Big news first--Mr. Moo came home from the hospital three days post surgery and hasn't skipped a beat (HA--*beat*) since. In fact, it took all of my energy to keep him from hurting himself as he did have a sternum that had been wired shut and all. But we are past the point in healing where he has any restrictions, and he is proud as punch to show anyone who happens to ask about the surgery his "line."
And thank you to all who sent prayers and good wishes through the whole process, it really meant the world to me.
Now the grand event du jour is that we are actually following through on those big expensive plans that I was musing about a while back. If all goes well, we will have our house on the market by the end of next week. Holy scary (and exciting) as hell Batman. The main tipping point of the whole decision was really the horrific commute that we would be able to cut down tremendously with a relocation. From 2.5 hours RT to more like 30 mins. Yeah. It's really that different. So, I will get 20% of the commuting time for the low low price of only 200% of what our current house is worth. But what's another zero between friends?
I will try to be better about posting so that I can share the whole saga as it unfolds. But for now, I have a big box of toys to sort. And tomorrow I get to ponder yet again what kind of crazy person put all of this crap in our house.
Thursday, October 07, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Tubes and Glue
I am happy to report that Mr. Moo's surgery this morning went very well and he is recovering nicely. Not that I will relax until he's, like, 18 or something, but I should be able to sleep tonight even though my bed is only two feet from him (read: the alarms have stopped, finally). I have been warned of a 3am x-ray (although the nurse also said that if I didn't want to get up she could just "throw some lead on me"). And at 6am they are probably going to start removing some of the many tubes going in and out of his little body (he quite resembles Mowgli from the Jungle Book, except with lots of connections...).
And I was surprised to find that his incision is not covered at all because it was closed with surgical adhesive. For those who love a little trivia, that was an early use for super glue, except in a more military medic kind of way. There are stitches underneath (and some wire holding the ribs together), but the surface is really not that gory at all. Good deal.
I should probably get some sleep as it will be a LONG day tomorrow if he is actually awake and talking. Mind you, I won't argue about one little word that comes out of that precious mouth, but by the end of the day, he will have asked 100+ questions about every single device to which he is connected, talked the ear off of every hospital staff member that stops by, and probably tried to reprogram some of the equipment when we turn our backs for a moment.
It's ok, though, because he's here and he's healthy.
And I was surprised to find that his incision is not covered at all because it was closed with surgical adhesive. For those who love a little trivia, that was an early use for super glue, except in a more military medic kind of way. There are stitches underneath (and some wire holding the ribs together), but the surface is really not that gory at all. Good deal.
I should probably get some sleep as it will be a LONG day tomorrow if he is actually awake and talking. Mind you, I won't argue about one little word that comes out of that precious mouth, but by the end of the day, he will have asked 100+ questions about every single device to which he is connected, talked the ear off of every hospital staff member that stops by, and probably tried to reprogram some of the equipment when we turn our backs for a moment.
It's ok, though, because he's here and he's healthy.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
The Heart of the Matter
I've got a lot on my mind these days, but without question the biggest thing is Mr. Moo's upcoming surgery. Sorry to just drop it on you like that, but I really couldn't come up with a clever way to introduce the topic because, well, I'm a bit of a stressed out mamma at the moment.
This coming Friday, my little pumpkin goes under the knife to correct a ventral septal defect (VSD) that he has had since birth. As far as heart defects go, it's a relatively minor one. The hole is quite small, and Mr. Moo is a healthy little kid. The problem that we've run into is that the turbulence caused by the hole (so much turbulence, in fact, that one need not even touch the stethoscope to his chest to hear the murmur) is causing the heart to enlarge. Left alone, it will lead to numerous vascular, heart, and lung issues later in life, and by then it will be too late to repair anything.
So, enter scalpel, rib spreaders, and the whole open-heart parade.
{sigh}
Even last week, I was dealing pretty well with everything, but now that we're in the last few days before the procedure, I'm a bit of a raw nerve. Add to that the reality of a cousin in hospice (in his 60's, but still...) and a friend whose husband died unexpectedly last week, and I've become a bit of a hawt mess. I hear a song...I tear up. I read Facebook...I tear up. I refill my coffee cup...I tear up. I am not at all the weepy type, so add to the mix my brain trying to deal with All. Of. These. Emotions. So. Much. To. Process. (Read that last part in the voice of William Shatner for full effect.)
One saving factor is that my employer is being completely understanding and has only chided me for trying to figure out how soon I can be back to normal workload. "Don't you even think about work until your little guy is better," I have been told. How refreshing and welcome. I think if I were at ye olde place I would have gone postal by this point.
So, asking for prayers, good thoughts, and any other positives to get us all through this rough patch. Thanks all!
This coming Friday, my little pumpkin goes under the knife to correct a ventral septal defect (VSD) that he has had since birth. As far as heart defects go, it's a relatively minor one. The hole is quite small, and Mr. Moo is a healthy little kid. The problem that we've run into is that the turbulence caused by the hole (so much turbulence, in fact, that one need not even touch the stethoscope to his chest to hear the murmur) is causing the heart to enlarge. Left alone, it will lead to numerous vascular, heart, and lung issues later in life, and by then it will be too late to repair anything.
So, enter scalpel, rib spreaders, and the whole open-heart parade.
{sigh}
Even last week, I was dealing pretty well with everything, but now that we're in the last few days before the procedure, I'm a bit of a raw nerve. Add to that the reality of a cousin in hospice (in his 60's, but still...) and a friend whose husband died unexpectedly last week, and I've become a bit of a hawt mess. I hear a song...I tear up. I read Facebook...I tear up. I refill my coffee cup...I tear up. I am not at all the weepy type, so add to the mix my brain trying to deal with All. Of. These. Emotions. So. Much. To. Process. (Read that last part in the voice of William Shatner for full effect.)
One saving factor is that my employer is being completely understanding and has only chided me for trying to figure out how soon I can be back to normal workload. "Don't you even think about work until your little guy is better," I have been told. How refreshing and welcome. I think if I were at ye olde place I would have gone postal by this point.
So, asking for prayers, good thoughts, and any other positives to get us all through this rough patch. Thanks all!
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
Blog Tour: You're Not the Boss of Me
I was so excited to be chosen as part of the Mom Central blog tour* of You’re Not the Boss of Me: Brat-Proofing Your 4- to 12-Year-Old Child because I feel that no matter how hard I have been trying to avoid it, we are heading down that path in our home. Sure, my oldest just turned five and his younger sister is only two, so I’m really at the beginning of the range Betsy Brown Braun talks about in the book. But my philosophy on these things is nip it in the bud.
You’re Not the Boss of Me provides a comprehensive look at some of the major issues in child rearing that, when approached in the right way, can help to tame the brat in every child. Braun discusses the ubiquitous issue of communication in its own chapter as well as throughout the book in examples of what a parent can say in certain situations to make things better (as well as how our words can make things worse). These scripted examples are quite helpful even if the exact words don’t work for your situation. Having a place from which to start a conversation, and seeing that the author really does understand our parental frustrations kept me turning the pages, anxious to see what other dilemmas she may have addressed.
One matter that has been particularly frustrating for me is being sure that my son hears and understands me when I am speaking to him. He is an energetic child, and I was often finding myself becoming exasperated by his constant motion as I would try to speak with him. Thinking that it was a good solution, I would sometimes call him over, sit or kneel down to be at his level, and gently hold his cheeks to have him face me while I spoke in a normal tone. I would often find myself losing patience as he struggled to get away from me, eyes darting in every direction but mine (for those wondering, he has no difficulty maintaining eye contact while relaying a story or in other conversations, so I’m not concerned about an autism spectrum issue—this behavior is very specific to when he knows I need to “talk turkey” with him). Braun disagrees with my method, noting that by making my son stop and focus on me, his energy is either channeled into getting away or on the fact that I am making him look at me, so the words I am saying are lost anyway. She reminds the parent that a child can hear you either way and shows other methods of ensuring that what you said is comprehended (like simply asking, “what did I say?” or even, “what does that mean?”). When children are older, eye contact can be a sign of respect or confidence, so it’s a good thing to teach, but demanding it in the course of talking to a younger child isn’t absolutely necessary. I have made this one change and it really did make a difference in communicating with my son.
The thing I liked most about the book was that information is presented in bite-sized pieces. And it really needs to be because Braun presents a LOT of information. She even tells the reader to implement ideas one at a time, slowly, to be sure that they are not overwhelming. The examples are very real and numerous, giving plenty of chances for each parent to find some steps to implement. Will every example apply to every family? Of course not. But even if you only find half of her tips to be useful, it will have been well worth the read.
As I read, I was delighted to find examples of things I was already doing well, areas with which I have been struggling (with examples I will be trying to see if I can tackle some of my frustrations), and even areas in which I flat out disagreed with the author. Why would I find that delightful? Well, it made me stop, think about why I disagreed, and still feel confident in my stand. In my opinion, any chance you have to stop and rethink an important part of life (like raising kids) is a good thing. I will give an example: In a section addressing children’s table manners, Braun states that she does not believe that young children should be taken to restaurants and goes further to state that family friendly restaurants that promote poor table behavior should be banned. I have to respectfully disagree. I gather from the way she describes the family-friendly restaurant that she is talking about the place with the big rat and games galore. Frankly, I don’t think of that as a restaurant. I think of it as a recreation place that happens to serve food (although I admit that I haven’t been there since the 1980’s). To me, a family friendly restaurant (with tables and food but no games) teaches kids how to behave in public while eating without being too restrictive. In fact, I am more likely to excuse my kids from the table early at home because I know they can run around in another room. I won’t do the same at our local diner because they will get into nothing but trouble. And I do agree with her on the note that I would never take my young kids to a fancy restaurant. They are not at all ready for that level of dining. But, overall, it’s a topic on which Braun’s response intrigued me and for which I would actually like to chat with her to see if one of us can sway the other or if we agree to disagree. Perhaps someday.
One last thing I’d like to mention about the You're Not the Boss of Me is that I really loved the two lists Braun included in the appendix: "Fifty-two Cures for AFFLUENZA: One for Every Week of the Year" and "100 Ways to Say 'Good Job!'" Both provide a host of informational “micro-bites” to digest as we run in 10 directions at once.
I often make sure that review copies of books get into other people’s hands once I have finished, but I guarantee that You’re Not the Boss of Me will stay on my shelves for many years to come—in fact, probably as long as the Precocious Duo lives under my roof.
*In the interest of full disclosure, I wrote this review while participating in a blog tour campaign by Mom Central on behalf of HarperCollins and received a copy of You’re Not the Boss of Me to facilitate my review. Mom Central also sent me a gift certificate to thank me for taking the time to participate.
You’re Not the Boss of Me provides a comprehensive look at some of the major issues in child rearing that, when approached in the right way, can help to tame the brat in every child. Braun discusses the ubiquitous issue of communication in its own chapter as well as throughout the book in examples of what a parent can say in certain situations to make things better (as well as how our words can make things worse). These scripted examples are quite helpful even if the exact words don’t work for your situation. Having a place from which to start a conversation, and seeing that the author really does understand our parental frustrations kept me turning the pages, anxious to see what other dilemmas she may have addressed.
One matter that has been particularly frustrating for me is being sure that my son hears and understands me when I am speaking to him. He is an energetic child, and I was often finding myself becoming exasperated by his constant motion as I would try to speak with him. Thinking that it was a good solution, I would sometimes call him over, sit or kneel down to be at his level, and gently hold his cheeks to have him face me while I spoke in a normal tone. I would often find myself losing patience as he struggled to get away from me, eyes darting in every direction but mine (for those wondering, he has no difficulty maintaining eye contact while relaying a story or in other conversations, so I’m not concerned about an autism spectrum issue—this behavior is very specific to when he knows I need to “talk turkey” with him). Braun disagrees with my method, noting that by making my son stop and focus on me, his energy is either channeled into getting away or on the fact that I am making him look at me, so the words I am saying are lost anyway. She reminds the parent that a child can hear you either way and shows other methods of ensuring that what you said is comprehended (like simply asking, “what did I say?” or even, “what does that mean?”). When children are older, eye contact can be a sign of respect or confidence, so it’s a good thing to teach, but demanding it in the course of talking to a younger child isn’t absolutely necessary. I have made this one change and it really did make a difference in communicating with my son.
The thing I liked most about the book was that information is presented in bite-sized pieces. And it really needs to be because Braun presents a LOT of information. She even tells the reader to implement ideas one at a time, slowly, to be sure that they are not overwhelming. The examples are very real and numerous, giving plenty of chances for each parent to find some steps to implement. Will every example apply to every family? Of course not. But even if you only find half of her tips to be useful, it will have been well worth the read.
As I read, I was delighted to find examples of things I was already doing well, areas with which I have been struggling (with examples I will be trying to see if I can tackle some of my frustrations), and even areas in which I flat out disagreed with the author. Why would I find that delightful? Well, it made me stop, think about why I disagreed, and still feel confident in my stand. In my opinion, any chance you have to stop and rethink an important part of life (like raising kids) is a good thing. I will give an example: In a section addressing children’s table manners, Braun states that she does not believe that young children should be taken to restaurants and goes further to state that family friendly restaurants that promote poor table behavior should be banned. I have to respectfully disagree. I gather from the way she describes the family-friendly restaurant that she is talking about the place with the big rat and games galore. Frankly, I don’t think of that as a restaurant. I think of it as a recreation place that happens to serve food (although I admit that I haven’t been there since the 1980’s). To me, a family friendly restaurant (with tables and food but no games) teaches kids how to behave in public while eating without being too restrictive. In fact, I am more likely to excuse my kids from the table early at home because I know they can run around in another room. I won’t do the same at our local diner because they will get into nothing but trouble. And I do agree with her on the note that I would never take my young kids to a fancy restaurant. They are not at all ready for that level of dining. But, overall, it’s a topic on which Braun’s response intrigued me and for which I would actually like to chat with her to see if one of us can sway the other or if we agree to disagree. Perhaps someday.
One last thing I’d like to mention about the You're Not the Boss of Me is that I really loved the two lists Braun included in the appendix: "Fifty-two Cures for AFFLUENZA: One for Every Week of the Year" and "100 Ways to Say 'Good Job!'" Both provide a host of informational “micro-bites” to digest as we run in 10 directions at once.
I often make sure that review copies of books get into other people’s hands once I have finished, but I guarantee that You’re Not the Boss of Me will stay on my shelves for many years to come—in fact, probably as long as the Precocious Duo lives under my roof.
*In the interest of full disclosure, I wrote this review while participating in a blog tour campaign by Mom Central on behalf of HarperCollins and received a copy of You’re Not the Boss of Me to facilitate my review. Mom Central also sent me a gift certificate to thank me for taking the time to participate.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Movin' on Up
So, after a surprisingly short discussion, we have decided that relocating to the other neighborhood appears to be a really good idea. One of the biggest factors is the dramatic reduction in our commute. Less driving = less stress + more time with the kids + more time for life. I will admit that I often find myself having to stop for a moment to work up the fortitude to stomach the commute every day when I pick up the kids at school. Knowing that I would have a 5-10 minute drive (or 15-20 min walk) will do wonders for my evening mood. And, of course, the other important factor is the kids. The new area would be a good one for them, too, in a whole host of ways. True, we love our current home and have finally gotten to know our neighbors, but the lure of walkability (and sidewalks!) is strong.
Of course, all of this means getting our current home ready for market, and I don't think the list of little things ever looks as long as when you know that they must be done and there is a real urgency involved. Given the list and our usual amount of free time, I don't see us being anywhere near ready until at least fall (not ideal, but reality trumps convenience). I think we'll see how it goes.
The other factor in the mix right now is that it appears that Mr. Moo will have to go through fairly major surgery this summer, and I don't see any way that we'll be able to get anything done while he recovers (not complaining, just stating fact).
So, I am at one time enthused about the search, overwhelmed by the selling, and misty about the surgery. That's a whole lot of emotions for the one who usually prides herself on being fairly stoic.
Not sure whether to giggle, hide, or cry.
Of course, all of this means getting our current home ready for market, and I don't think the list of little things ever looks as long as when you know that they must be done and there is a real urgency involved. Given the list and our usual amount of free time, I don't see us being anywhere near ready until at least fall (not ideal, but reality trumps convenience). I think we'll see how it goes.
The other factor in the mix right now is that it appears that Mr. Moo will have to go through fairly major surgery this summer, and I don't see any way that we'll be able to get anything done while he recovers (not complaining, just stating fact).
So, I am at one time enthused about the search, overwhelmed by the selling, and misty about the surgery. That's a whole lot of emotions for the one who usually prides herself on being fairly stoic.
Not sure whether to giggle, hide, or cry.
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