Stir crazy

The last two weeks have been totally crazy. I was in the office for only 1 out of the 10 working days, and the boys' school was closed for 8.5 of those 10 days due to snow and ice. That's a LOT of time to be cooped up. And you know it's bad when then kids groan about yet another school closure because they just want to see their friends (and get away from their mean old mom who won't let them eat snacks every minute of every day), even if it means going to school!

Our first "winter weather event" happened on Monday, February 16. I was already home with Lorelai for President's day (daycare teacher workday) so it was no big deal when school got out early. We ended up with more sleet than snow, so many secondary roads were skating rinks. With more snow on Wednesday, school was out all.freaking.week because it was just too bitterly cold to melt the ice/snow. I guess I didn't really get how bad some roads were until we picked Aidan up after a sleepover on Saturday morning. 5 days later, and his friend's road was still solid ice.



We thought we were in the clear last week. Monday was a normal day at school and work. And then everyone was completely surprised when we woke up to more snow coming down on Tuesday. Some buses had already left to get students by the time the school delay call came in at 6:30am. By 7:45, it was very clear the roads were too bad to go to school, so we were at cancellation number 5. I think we ended up with 2-3 inches before it stopped. The kids loved it though--real snow, better than the ice last week.


Adam ventured out to work every day, making me a nervous wreck (I'm paranoid) when every single time, he forgot to text me that he got there safe.


The biggest punch in the gut from good old Mother Nature came at 1am on Thursday when our power went out due to the heavy, wet snow taking down trees and power lines. It sure was gorgeous though!


We don't even own a snow shovel--we had to borrow the neighbor's.


We keep our downstairs thermostat really low at night so it didn't take long without heat to drop down into the 50s. We tried to warm the house with our first fire in the fireplace in I don't know how many years. Since before Logan was born maybe. It became very clear that the poor Duraflame log was not cutting it. Those things are not made to give off much heat.



My work laptop was completely dead, and with no indication that our power would be back on soon, I couldn't run my cell phone battery down by calling in to my work meetings. Worst use of a vacation day, ugh. With no power and no coffee and most importantly no heat (I was SO cold even with multiple layers under blankets!!), we packed up and headed to Adam's work down the road. Thankfully the main roads weren't too dicey because some plows had made it through. We happily mooched off their power, wi-fi and coffee until our power came back on that afternoon. And then my mom happily mooched off our power until hers came back on that evening. :)


This is the clubhouse of one of the apartment complexes Adam manages. Cinnamon roll keurig coffee and a huge media room for the win.


Of course (because we're in the south) the secondary roads still weren't safe for buses by Friday, so that was cancellation numero ocho. Ouch. And now the boys have officially lost the first week of their 3-week intersession at the end of this month. At least there's no Saturday school for us, so that's an up side?

The snuggles were also a big up side. :)



This has been the first "normal" week in a long time, and now we're looking at another wintry mix on the way tonight that could possibly delay or cancel school tomorrow. While I actually didn't mind going into full hibernation mode--no makeup/yoga pants/curled up under a blanket at the table in front of my computer and only stepping outside to take a couple of quick pics of the kids, I was happy to be back in the office this week. I will echo the sentiment of pretty much everyone when I say I'm SO DONE with winter. Hurry up, Spring!

Life lately

So it looks like I've unintentionally abandoned my blog for the past couple of weeks. I'd love to share our latest beach pictures. I'm sure they're great, but I have no idea because I haven't even gotten the camera out of the case since we unpacked.

Life's gotten in the way--between our beach vacation, work being as crazy as it's ever been for me, and the rest of the proverbial shit that's hit the fan recently, I haven't had the time or the mental capacity at the end of the day to do anything other than veg in front of the TV or sleep. That is, when I'm not jumping out of bed at 11pm to send some urgent emails I thought of while I was trying to fall asleep but couldn't because my brain wouldn't quiet down. I've felt more stress these past couple of weeks than I can remember in a long time. I know I have to keep swimming, but I'm having trouble keeping my head above water.

So in bullet point form, here's what's been going on in my world. Quite a bit of ups and downs last week...

• We went to the beach for 4 glorious days!
• I've had to eat my words (twice!) about how Logan has turned the corner, because he basically did this again last Monday. But more scary this time, because of all the morbid thoughts he was verbalizing. Drop-off at his trackout program was...let's just say rough...and 30 minutes later I was back to pick him up because he was threatening to run away from them. The teacher had to physically restrain him from leaving the room.
• On Tuesday, I was moved to tears by a coworker who noticed that I was having a really rough day on Monday (crying about Logan in the hall at work was a dead giveaway...embarrassing) and delivered these flowers to my desk to try to brighten my day. It worked!

• That night, while Adam was out of town for work, Logan got upset at me again and acted like he was trying to suffocate himself. In my heart I know he didn't really mean it and I know he couldn't have actually hurt himself that way, but it scared Aidan (and me) to tears.
• Wednesday I called my Employee Assistance Program hotline for a referral to a child psychologist. I don't know what's going on with Logan, but I'm worried so I have to do something. Anything.
• Then I engaged in some retail therapy during lunch because I just had to get out of the office for a bit, and ended up with these cute polka dot pants I found on the clearance rack at Target. Score!

•  And then last Thursday, Adam lost his job. Gulp.

(And just to add insult to injury, on Friday, I came down with a cold. Seriously?!)

Now that the initial shock has worn off, we're doing okay. Adam's okay. I have faith that he will find a new job that's better than his previous one. He's so good at what he does and well-respected in his field that I shouldn't be worried. But it's the uncertainty that's scary right now. How long will he have to go without a paycheck?

As much as I'm complaining now, I know I'm not special. Lots of people have lost their jobs or their pay because of the furloughs. Lots of people are working (even more) insane hours alongside me right now. Lots of people have issues with their kids.

And really, I know we'll be okay in the end. We're lucky because we have our health (knock on some serious freakin' wood!). We're lucky because we're not immediately in a dire financial situation. We're lucky because I still have a job, regardless of how insane it's been lately. We're lucky because we have each other and a supportive family.

"When life gets you down do you wanna know what you've gotta do? Just keep swimming..." ~Dory

We'll be okay.

Jinx and vomit

I probably should have knocked on wood after I wrote up such a lovely birthday post for Logan, talking about how he had turned a corner with the meltdowns and was handling his feelings a little bit more appropriately. Either I had totally selective memory while I was caught up in my birthday nostalgia, or I totally jinxed myself.


I wrote the first half of that post the day before his birthday, but by the time I had written the rest and was ready to post, he was already proclaiming his day ruined and he was having the worst birthday ever. Dramatic much? And this is what happened when I dared to ask for a photo with the child I birthed from my loins 7 years ago on that day.


How dare I?!?


Unfortunately, during a total cluster of a time trying to get a tantruming Lorelai down for her nap, Logan got yelled at (not by me! Orange Rhino FTW!). And even though I tried to calmly remedy the situation, it spiraled out of control. He stormed up to his room, said he was going to throw away all his presents, and said all kinds of hurtful things to me like "you don't love me! You never love me!" It was certainly nowhere near as bad as his temper tantrums have gotten in the past, but it was extra hurtful because it was on such a special day, and I truly, honestly, was nothing but sweet and comforting to him when he got upset. (Side note: I'm giving myself mad props for not having any kind of mental breakdown or screaming match from all of the tantrums going on. Deep breaths...)

On the plus side, he came out of it fairly quickly, and was all better by the time his cousins came over so they could enjoy some quality time eating pizza and brownies and playing Skylanders on the Wii.

But...BUT! It wasn't all sunshine and birthday unicorns from there on out. By 9pm, he was writhing in pain on the bathroom floor with a horrible stomach ache, and then proceeded to puke up his entire dessert. Because of course. Of course Logan couldn't have been spared, on his birthday no less, from the vomit that has plagued our house for what was now the 3rd weekend in a row. First Lorelai, then Aidan. I should have seen it coming for Logan from a mile away. Sure, I think it had much more to do with the 3 chocolate donuts, a few slices of pizza and one monster-sized birthday brownie he scarfed down over the course of the day as opposed to whatever Lorelai and Aidan had. But still. 3 kids, 3 weekends of puke. Lovely.

We're all better now, so if Adam and I can make it through this weekend without either of us throwing up, maybe our "lucky" streak will be broken. Fingers crossed. Toilet bowls thoroughly cleaned, just in case. :)


PS: I have to say that I really do think Logan has turned that corner. And no matter what this post sounds like in my effort to document our reality--both the good and the bad--I meant every single heartfelt word I said about him. Just in case that didn't go without saying.

PPS: For the record--he done went crazy again this morning when I asked him to be more helpful like Aidan. Apparently what he heard was "I hate you, Logan." Sigh. 

Morbid thoughts.

Sometimes my mind gets stuck on a worst-case scenario and I can't stop my brain from going down the rabbit hole of what would happen.

For example, yesterday when I was running, I kept picturing myself collapsing on the sidewalk. I was really struggling with my run (so maybe the jogging stroller isn't the cause of my problems...?) and I've also been having this weird issue where twice in the past two days, it's felt like my heart or lung is ripping inside me when I try to breathe deeply. So I guess that's where it came from. But instead of just brushing it off and moving on, I started picturing details about what would happen. Someone would drive by and see me laying there, and would grab the phone off my arm to find out who to call. They'd probably call the number labeled Home, Adam would answer, and they'd describe a person laying (dead?) on the street. He would freak out, get the kids in the car, and pull up as the ambulance was loading me in. Very detailed. I just couldn't get my brain to move on.


Obviously I was fine, but exhausted. And I should also mention that I waited to get Lorelai from daycare so I could run without the jogging stroller. #don'tjudge


It also happens regularly when I'm driving on a bridge over water (I admit, I have anxiety when it comes to bridges--driving to the OBX was really scary for me and you will probably never see me with fewer than two hands on the steering wheel over water). In my mind, I can't help but picture and play out what would happen if I drove off the bridge. Not that I would purposefully drive off the bridge, but if we had an accident that caused us to go over.

And I do it with the kids, too. It'll be a completely harmless situation--like they're at school when I get a call that something tragic has happened. It's always very disturbing. Kind of like a nightmare, but I'm wide awake.

I don't know, maybe it's just me subconsciously confronting my own mortality in the wake of senseless tragedy like the Boston Marathon bombings. Or my kids' mortality whenever I (often) get sucked into terrible news stories of kids dying...

Do other people do this too, or am I mentally unstable? And did I just admit that I'm mentally unstable to the entire interwebs? Maybe I should also ask: has anyone else had a similar feeling like your heart's going to tear or like your lung can't expand anymore or it'll tear (it's hard to describe)? I know better than to google...(or do I?)

The other injuries

While we've never had an ER visit for any of the kids up until this weekend, it's not quite accurate to say that we've been accident-free up until then.

In July 2009 when Logan was 3.5, he somehow fell off a bike and into the bike petal at daycare and basically had a puncture wound right next to his eye. The director called me in a panic because she just assumed he needed stitches and just knew I'd need to get him to a doctor right away. It was gross and scary because it was a gaping wound so close to his eye, so I admit to freaking out a little lot.



I took him straight to urgent care where they cleaned him up, but they almost sent us to the ER for stitches, since urgent care doesn't do the sedation required on pediatric patients when stitches are required. Fortunately, they were able to use dermabond (lots and lots of it) to close the wound, so our ER bullet was dodged that time.

Almost a year later when Aidan was in kindergarten, he was playing outside and gashed his scalp open on a nail (or something??) underneath the playset. His teacher called me in a panic because she couldn't get it to stop bleeding. By the time I got there, the bleeding had mostly subsided and I got him right to urgent care where he got two staples in his head to close the gash. After the incident with Logan, I wasn't quite as freaked out over this wound, since Aidan was a bit older, not super upset about it, and I just know that scalps tend to bleed a lot even on fairly minor wounds. Calm Mommy award goes to me on that one. :) It still turned my stomach to look at it, though.

But Lorelai still wins the dubious prize for causing the biggest parental freakout (I guess she wins that award x2 if you count the pregnancy scare I had...little stinker!) because of the nature of her injury and the unknown that's involved with head injuries. As much as I cringe to think about blood, etc., I'll take a superficial wound over possible brain damage any day.

But note to the universe: that is most definitely NOT a request for more injuries. Let's see if we can go at least another 2.5 years before we see another ER or urgent care. I need time to replenish my insurance health fund after what I'm sure will be a large ER bill...

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Never a dull moment

Given the perspective that Saturday gave me, I'm not really complaining, believe me. But it just seems like there's a lot more crazy and not as much lazy going on over here. And what happened last week, on top of the school issue we've been stressing about + the scare with Lorelai, just adds to the list of crazy.

With the stress from the parent/teacher conference on Thursday, I was in no mood to cook (reality check—I've just been plain old terrible about meal planning lately), so we took the kids out to Chick-fil-a for a celebratory "We're proud of you, Aidan" and "Yay for the end of the school quarter" meal. Good times.



Then we headed over to Sweet Frog for some FroYo to continue to celebration and family fun. More good times. And for the record, I'm still kind of dreaming about my mango/original tart swirl with strawberry and mango poppers, white chocolate chips, coconut sprinkles and mochi (what is that stuff anyway?!) despite what happened next.



We got the kids bathed and in bed, and relaxed on the couch watching tv for a while. Then we went to bed, and before I could even fully fall asleep, Lorelai cried out. Adam got her and yelled for me to help when he realized that she had thrown up all over herself and her bed. Whomp whomp.

Adam got her bed changed and I got her all cleaned up as best as I could—she wouldn't get in the tub so I did what I could with a soapy washcloth and shampoo in the ends of her hair over the sink (a huge PITA, btw). Got her all dressed and back in bed, but she didn't stay asleep. She called out to me so I came in her room to rock her some more. And that's when she threw up all.over.me. I had a small blanket that I tried to use to um...contain it, but I already had it all over the side of my face, neck, shirt and hands. Decidedly NOT good times.

Another massive cleanup ensued and she finally laid down and was good for the rest of the night. She never had a fever and was perfectly fine in the morning, so it must have been something she ate that her stomach disagreed with. But suffice it to say that Chick-fil-a and Sweet Frog definitely lost some of their appeal the minute it was thrown up onto my face. (You're welcome for that image. "You know you're a mom when"...amiright?)

Anyway, I'm just sayin'...I could totally use a bit of down time in between some of these more "intense" events (I know, perspective. Things could be so much worse, and for that I'm thankful). A few dull moments might be nice. ☺ But then again, I'm a parent, what can I expect?! Ha!

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First ER visit

Most definitely not a good parenting milestone, but one for the memory books nonetheless: we made our first ever trip to the ER as parents this weekend. Ironically, 8.5 years into parenting with two older boys, and Lorelai is the one who finally broke our ER-free streak. :(

After her bath on Saturday night, she was running from the bathroom to our bed at full speed with her towel wrapped around her, and tripped over a shirt on the floor. Her forehead broke her fall into our metal bed frame.

 

This was a few hours and LOTS of ice later. Thank goodness
for the ice because the swelling was SO much worse initially.

I was only a few steps behind her, so I pulled her up immediately and literally saw a dent in her forehead that was black with an immediate bruise. And then it started to swell, BAD. Adam immediately ran downstairs to get some ice, and I frantically screamed at him to hurry because it was huge and purple with a now bloody dent in the middle. It was horrifying.

Adam was beside himself with panic, and we were both legitimately worried she'd cracked her skull based on how hard she fell and how bad it looked. He freaked the freak out (I'm not criticizing. I get it, really) and called 911 for an ambulance before I could convince him we could just drive her to the ER on our own since she was concious and breathing and the blood wasn't bad. So he hung up on 911 (duh! you don't do that ever!) but when they called back, I told them we didn't need it.

Aidan had just gotten out of the shower when this all happened so he walked in to our room to see two frantic parents, and a screaming baby sister with a nasty head injury, so he proceeded to freak the freak out as well. Poor thing was crying so bad, he could barely figure out what clothes to put on.

As we were scrambling to get Lorelai's clothes on, I dialed my mom and handed to phone to Logan so I could finish getting her dressed while Adam held the ice on her. For some reason, Logan took the phone to Aidan who was incoherent (my mom thought it was me crying--I can only imagine the terrible thoughts going through her head with a phone call like that) but I was able to tell her the situation and get her to meet us ASAP at the ER so she could take the boys.

With Adam yelling things like skull fracture, brain damage and brain bleed, it's understandable why Aidan was so worked up and Logan was kind of in shock (I don't think he cried, he just got very quiet). As I begged Adam to calm down, I kept repeating to the kids (poor sweet Lorelai included) that everything was going to be ok. I was saying it out loud for myself as much as anyone else, because I don't think I've ever been that panicked (not including in-utero scares) as a parent that something was wrong. Although I'm still amazed that I was the calm one in this scenario, for the record.

It didn't take much more than 20/25 minutes to get to the ER, but Lorelai was pretty lethargic during the ride, although she was never unresponsive. This was very scary, because even though it was her bedtime, she's never that tired at 7:30 at night. Adam kept telling her to stay awake and she would quietly mumble "ok Daddy." Meanwhile, in the back, Aidan was still crying a little, but Logan was rubbing on his arm to comfort him.

My mom was already waiting outside the ER when we pulled up, so she took the boys home right away. She later told me that Aidan had trouble getting the bad thoughts out of his head to go to sleep. :(

Thankfully, we didn't have to wait long to be seen, and not long after, Lorelai started to perk up. Her pupils looked good and she was chatting almost happily about the Nickelodeon shows they put on while we waited. She kept saying her head hurt and wanted to go home, but wouldn't lay down, because "that's not my bed."

Both the resident and pediatric specialist agreed she was fine--no concussion (she never lost consciousness) or any other kind of brain injury (fun fact: apparently brain bleeds are uncommon in children in falls like this), and they were even pleasantly surprised that the wound didn't even need surgical glue as they originally suspected.

 

The nurse put the numbing cream on this cotton ball and said it
looked like she was growing a unicorn horn. Lorelai liked that :)

They numbed her for a while then cleaned her wound and all she needed was some steri-strips and a band-aid. And a grape popscicle, of course. Absolutely necessary to the healing process. :)

We were home by 10:30pm and she slept soundly until almost 7:45am, at which point she was reunited with two boys who were VERY happy to see that their girl was ok. And who were very willing to take it easy with her and do their best to try to convince her to take it easy for the whole day--a tough thing to do with an active 2.5 year old!

Going in for some hugs. Lots of love and snuggles all around on Sunday.

Of course, in hindsight, part of me questioned going in the first place, thinking we freaked out over nothing. But the resident put my mind at ease saying we did the right thing and he would have done the same if it were his child. Even though ERs aren't cheap, that peace of mind was priceless, since we couldn't see into her brain to know she was okay in the same way we could look at a simple wound. That's why the doctors get paid the big bucks, I guess. :)

As traumatizing as that was for all of us, I know that it could have been SO much worse. I keep having flashbacks and thinking that if she had been just inches off, she could have broken her nose or her teeth. But she's clearly a tough girl--probably tougher than either of her parents were about the whole situation! And very lucky.

In fact, this minor crisis showed me how lucky we ALL are. Lorelai is lucky to have a doting father who would have moved heaven and earth to get her to the hospital faster, if he could. She's lucky to have two older brothers who care so deeply about her. Aidan's lucky to have a brother like Logan who instinctively comforted him when he was upset. We're lucky to have my mom so close and so willing to drop everything to be there for us. And I'm beyond lucky to have an amazing family so filled with love. I couldn't stand it if something happened to any one of them.

The conference.

(...the saga continues)

I shouldn't have been so hopeful. The conference didn't go well. And I cried.

Basically, she fully believed that Aidan deserved a D, from the simple fact that he didn't do well on his oral presentation. Completely despite the fact that his visual presentation was "excellent." Unreasonable? I think so.

She insisted that the whole point of the project was the presentation, which wasn't at all clear based simply on the criteria in the rubric. Only the last criteria mentions the oral presentation, so there was no way to know how heavily it would be weighted. She said if we had questions about the rubric, we should have asked. But I didn't know to ask, since the rubric was clear in my mind! Would anyone else have known based on the rubric or the project information sheet that the whole point was the oral presentation?




Apparently, she docked extra points on his rubric on what I assumed to be the criteria for the written component for lack of facts and lack of organization just because he didn't communicate those facts orally from memory (she kept saying he had to look at his slides). And she didn't believe he spent time on rehearsing, even though she admitted the facts were there in the written work, and it was very organized.

Aside from that, I tried to reason with her that the overall score he got on his rubric of a 3 out of 4 is NOT the same as a 75%/D, so the way she applied the rubric was incorrect (thanks to some helpful advice from a teacher friend on the dangers of applying letter grades to 4-point rubrics: http://www.phschool.com/eteach/professional_development/four-point_rubric_score/essay.html, FYI). On a 4-point scale, a 3 indicates an acceptable level of achievement, whereas a 75%/D does not.

But she wouldn't even consider it. I truly wonder if she believes students who got a 3 on every single criteria, including their oral presentation, all deserve a D as well.

Adam got mad and I got all flustered and upset, and didn't get the answers I wanted or expected. She didn't tell me the class average or show me any example of A quality work...but I guess comparing written presentations wouldn't have mattered since she didn't care about them much. I'm now kicking myself that I couldn't go see him and his classmates present to compare for myself.

So I guess that's that. Nothing I can do about it now, except explain to Aidan that I'm proud of his work, and we'll help him practice even harder for his next presentation.

Tough lesson learned, I guess...but we'll move on.

 

It's ok buddy, only 9 more weeks of school until 4th
grade...um, where things will be even harder. Yikes... 


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A school issue and a second opinion

Aidan's big 3rd grade project for this quarter was a report on a famous African-American inventor. He chose Lonnie Johnson, and using the template provided by his teacher, he created a mock Facebook page with lots of information, after lots of research on Aidan's part. He spent a lot of time googling and reading and then (with some guidance and prompting from me, but not a ton) came up with various pieces of information to put into the template. It's actually a really cool project idea, although at first glance it seemed a little advanced for 3rd grade--what happened to a simple poster?! Here's what he came up with.







I was really proud of the work he did--summarizing what he read, paraphrasing, figuring out what he could put where, choosing images all on his own, doing the vast majority of cutting/pasting/re-sizing/formatting (he's now well-versed in the right-click/copy/paste special, ctrl-c, ctrl-v and ctrl-z!). I did help with some of the more complicated formatting issues and I helped some by typing the words he dictated to me. But in large, the work is his.

Maybe I'm biased (ok, I am, but still...), maybe I'm out of touch with expectations of freaking 3rd graders, but I'm PISSED that he got a 75 on this project. Please, someone give me a second opinion.


"...but little information on Lonnie himself" What?!?!?

Does this project look like it:

• Shows very few details about the inventor or his/her discovery. Does not go beyond basic information. (2 out of 4 on the rubric)
• Shows little organization. Very little time was spent on the project. Very few details are mentioned. Some difficulty interpreting information. (also 2 out of 4)

He also got a 1 out of 4 on his Oral presentation. I don't know otherwise because I wasn't there, but the criteria for a 1 on the rubric says "No understanding of written information. Unable to hear or understand information."

Aidan prepared notecards and practiced several times over the weekend before his presentation so I have a hard time swallowing that 1. Maybe he did mumble or read a bit too much from his slides, but I know he had a good grasp on who Lonnie Johnson is and what he's famous for. He did way too much research for that not to show at all. For this one, I'm mostly just sad that none of the practice Aidan did at home translated to his actual presentation. Maybe he got nervous, I don't know. He thought he did well, but his teacher said he couldn't answer many of the questions she asked without looking at his presentation. Is it really realistic to expect an 8-year-old to recite an entire presentation of facts from memory? That's a real question. Are most 3rd graders capable of that?

My momma bear instinct is raging right now, and I cried along with him when he came home today with this grade. Granted, I'm an overachiever by nature and rarely got bad grades myself (nerd alert!) so I cringe when I see grades like this. But if I thought Aidan truly did subpar work and deserved this grade, I wouldn't be nearly as worked up. Well I would, but for a different reason. I'd be more disappointed in myself that I didn't provide enough oversight or guidance to make sure he did well. But I did this time. And he really tried. And learned. And it looks good, damnit!

I really do welcome any and all opinions. If my mom-bias has clouded my judgement, please let me know. I want to go into the conference with his teacher next week with a clear head and realistic expectations.

Right place at the right time

I had to stay home with Lorelai today because she had a fever all night and didn't sleep well. So neither did I, after getting up multiple times to comfort her and then bringing her into bed with us at 4:30, where she tossed and turned for hours. But then like magic, her tylenol wore off and she was fever-free all day.



...Until right before I put her to bed.???? No idea what's going on with her. So we'll see how tonight goes...
 
Anyway, it ended up being a blessing in disguise that I was home with her today, because I just happened to notice that our water heater, which is on our second floor (why does anyone think that's a good idea?!), had started to leak. Add this to the rest of the list of things that are going/have gone wrong in our house. Sigh.



Thankfully, I noticed in time to give Adam a frantic call and he was able bring a maintenance guy from one of his properties over to take a look. At first we thought we'd have to replace it, which wouldn't happen until sometime next week. But fortunately, it looks like it's just a problem with the release valve on top, which was a quick fix.

So I guess today wasn't so bad. Got to spend the day in my yoga pants hanging with the cutest girl in the world, and I single-handedly prevented a house catastrophe (nope, not overstating that one at all, ha!).

A dead battery and a bad memory

Friday morning my car battery died while I was waiting at the bus stop with Aidan and Logan. It was a cold, rainy morning and I was already tired and grumpy after having been up with Lorelai several times the night before. Not to mention the fact that Adam was out of town. Since it was raining and I was not near neighbors that I actually knew, I felt bad flagging down a random stranger to help, so I just sat in the van shivering until roadside assistance showed up, almost 45 minutes later.



While I waited, I got to thinking about the last time my work day started with a dead battery. It was a day that completely turned my career all the way around and upside down. The day I lost my job (or, got fired for being pregnant, as I so affectionately refer to it).

It was a cold February morning in 2004, and I remember being in such a good mood because it was the first time I got to wear my maternity pants (side note: I feel silly now for being excited about that because it was certainly a step down in the fashion department--I blame first time mom craziness). I was headed to my job as an account rep for a very small PR/Marketing firm but I couldn't get my car battery to jump, so I think Adam drove me to work that day and I arranged for a co-worker to take me home.

Despite a frustrating start to that morning, everything was business as usual until I got called "upstairs." Didn't think anything of it, since I had asked for a review so I could talk raises. I had been there full time for about a year and had recently gotten very positive feedback from a client, so I was trying to be proactive. The details are extremely fuzzy (mental block due to emotional distress?) and I don't remember exactly what was said to me, other than the fact that that where I was in my life wasn't where they needed me to be as an employee. I just remember being completely blindsided. I was humiliated, angry and devestated. I managed to pack up my desk, but I couldn't even leave with dignity--I had to call my mom from the break room crying and wait for her to come pick me up since I didn't have a car that day.

That was without a doubt the most demoralizing thing I've ever experienced. I questioned every ounce of my self worth. Wondered why I was such a failure and how I could have been so stupid to not see it coming. Criticized myself for choosing a college major (Journalism, Advertising concentration) that I was apparently incompentant at.

And of course I immediately worried about expenses since we had a house a baby on the way, and Adam was already working two jobs for us to make ends meet. (The company did throw me a bone and paid for my insurance through the end of my pregnancy, which I'm so very grateful for.) And I figured no one would hire me since I was pregnant. The temp agency I registered with was a bust but I ended up with a part time job as a receptionist at my gym for a couple of months, with a paycheck that was enough to maybe cover a couple of monthly bills and that's it.

“Life's up and downs provide windows of opportunity to determine your values and goals - Think of using all obstacles as stepping stones to build the life you want” ~Marsha Sinetar



But perspective is a beautiful thing. I'm still occasionally bitter about the situation, but I've come to realize that the truth is...they were right. While I was most definitely not an incompetent employee, I really was not well-suited to that type of career and that type of workplace. It was the type of place that forced you to put career above all else. If you're not coming in early and staying late, you're falling short of expectations. I was never praised for a job well done, only criticized and nit-picked for what I should have been doing better or differently. I can't thrive in an environment like that. It was toxic, plain and simple. And the fact that they didn't even have any maternity leave policy before I announced my pregnancy certainly didn't bode well for me in hindsight. I could have never simultaneously been the mom I needed to be and the employee they demanded I be.

It's funny (but I'm not laughing)--Adam and I have actually both lost jobs in very unfortunate ways, and we've both had much better opportunities that wouldn't have otherwise happened. In the 3+ years since it happened to Adam, he's gotten several promotions (with hopefully another one coming up soon) and is making more than he ever did before.

As for me, I was given a chance to go back to the software company where I interned during college, albeit doing a completely different job. They took a chance on me, and I can honestly say I've felt like a valued employee for the past 8+ years I've been there (since Aidan was a mere 6 weeks old). I'm proud to say that I keep getting positive feedback on the work I'm doing, which is a big change from before. I got a huge promotion last summer and a couple of awards, including one last month where my boss said such incredibly nice things about me in front of my whole department. I just got an amazing annual review, and I'm thriving and growing my career in a way I never thought possible back then.

I would have never had this opportunity if it hadn't been for that fateful day and that miserable company, so in a twisted way I'm grateful. I totally could have done without the humiliation, overwhelming stress and lack significant income for almost 6 months, but it forced a career change that worked out for the better.

And my day on Friday ended immesurably better than the other time my car battery died before work :)


“The freedom to move forward to new opportunities and to produce results comes from living in the present not the past” ~Brian Koslow

Bad dream

You know the kind bad dream where you wake up and your heart is beating really fast? I had one of those last night about Lorelai.

It's too complicated to fully explain (and a lot of it doesn't even make sense), but the gist is that she got really sick and had to go to the hospital for surgery. Instead of getting better, she kept getting worse and no one could figure out why. I finally figured out that the blankets (or something?) they were using were made from peanuts, and she was having an allergic reaction. She was screaming in pain and I was screaming for someone to listen to me and get the blankets away from her.

In general, I've been handling her peanut allergy pretty well and not really stressing about it, since she's still in really controlled environments. Daycare is peanut free, and we completely control what she eats when she's home. Even though we do send PB&J sandwiches to school with the boys and some of their snacks are processed in a facility with peanuts, we're really careful about reading labels and making sure the boys don't eat their unsafe foods around her.

But apparently my subconscious has other ideas about how much her allergy stresses me out, if that dream was any indication. Thank goodness I'm not superstitious about dreams coming true, or I'd really be freaking out. It's just way too disturbing to think about something bad like that happening to this sweet girl.

This is why I was worried about Kindergarten.

When I said yesterday that "with Logan, it can be hard to tell how he'll react to something," what I was really getting at is that he loses his $h!* over the most ridiculous things sometimes and can become completely irrational and unreasonable (most notably and inconveniently when it comes to daycare drop offs even as recently as this year).

I've said before that he has a hard time handling his emotions, so I had mentally prepared for a rough drop off on his first day of kindergarten. I thought we had made it over the "transitions are hard" hurdle with him after such a great first day, but it turns out today was rock bottom after such a high point yesterday.

Logan got kicked out of daycare on his last ever day there. Yeah, that happened. And I'm mortified, upset, pissed and disappointed.

I honestly have no idea what set him off, but somewhere during the 2-minute drive to his last day at daycare, he decided that he was.not.going. I used every trick in my mommy arsenal to convince him to get out of the van: encouragement, compassion, humor, bribery, punishment, tears, and even brute force (and I have a kink in my neck to show for it). Nothing worked, so I carried Lorelai inside in tears and the director offered to try to get him.

That didn't work either, so I sat in the car with Logan, begging and crying for him to get out. For THIRTY MINUTES! He said he wanted to stay in the car all day, and when I told him it wasn't an option because it's too dangerous--kids die from being in hot cars for too long (I was going for the shock factor here)--he told me he would rather die than get out of the car. Lots of tears ensued and more hurtful words were said. You NEVER want to hear that you child thinks you don't love him, and that he doesn't love you either. He even said that if Adam came to help "I'll just unbuckle myself while daddy's driving so he goes to jail" (we may have overstated the consequences of not buckling up at time or two in the past...).

I finally convinced him to let me unbuckle him, but he immediately changed his mind and I had to physically carry him from the back seat of the van into the building kicking and screaming. The director took him and said he'd be fine since he usually calms down quickly after a bad drop off at school.

I cried all the way to work and then for a while longer in my friend's office because it was just that upsetting to me (parenting failure much?). I finally calmed down just in time to get a call saying that Logan was still kicking, punching, and trying to run out of the building. They needed me to pick him up. And just to kick me while I was down, they had packed up his cubby and papers and had it all sitting in a pile by the front door when I got there.

By the time I got there, he had calmed down (probably glad because he got what he wanted--not having to be at daycare), and he agreed to come to work with me. Because on top of all of that ridiculousness, our a/c broke last night, so I wasn't about to spend all day in a hot house with a kid who has lost TV and Wii privileges.

Thankfully, he was on his best behavior while he hung out at work with me, even though he did get totally stir-crazy. Thank goodness for awesome co-workers who gave him things to entertain him. But in hindsight, he said he would rather been playing with his friends. TOLD YOU SO! GAH!



He even took the time to write an apology note to his awesome teacher and draw her a picture. (Which obviously I made him do, but he didn't even complain about it.)

He told me what he wanted to write, I dictated the letters. Plus, arts and crafts with a sharpie and a stray magazine in the recycle pile. Use what you got, right?

Then he did the same on my white board. Now that he's calm, I think he really does feel bad for hurting our feelings and completely ruining his last day of daycare.

"Sorry for makeg you kry." He knew how to spell some of the words from his letter to his teacher, and he sounded out the others on his own.

Suffice it to say that it was NOT a good day, and not at all how I envisioned his last day at the place he's been for almost every day of the week since he was 12 weeks old. Unceremoniously kicked out. For violence. And now I bow my head in prayer that this NEVER happens again. Dear God, please.

And I also pray our a/c gets fixed tomorrow. I'm in no mood to handle this heat in my house.