In about 60 hours, Ken will leave for his annual 4-day canoe trip on the upper Delaware River. I recall last year's trip being a blur for me because I had a newborn (Henry) and a 2.5yo (Padraic) and was still trying to figure out exactly how to juggle both their needs by myself. To make matters more interesting, Ken's trip was Friday through Monday, and Padraic didn't go to day care on Fridays or Mondays. So it was four solid days of Mommy + the boys. I seem to recall coming close to losing my mind on days one and two, but somewhere around the end of day two or beginning of day three I got into a groove. To the point where when Ken returned, I wasn't as ready to flee as I had expected to be.
Let's hope that is the case this time around.
Our schedule will be different this year, anyway. Ken leaves on Thursday morning and gets home around suppertime on Sunday. So I just have to get the boys to day care and myself to work on Thursday, and then during the workday I need to make sure I retain some bit of sanity to use that evening until the precious hour when both little doodles are snug in their beds. On Friday I'll need to get Padraic to day care, but heck, I'll throw on sweats and a baseball cap, grab Henry out of his crib in jammies, and just head on up there and return home quick as a bunny. Then I'll have my usual work-at-home day with Henry and go get Padraic in the midafternoon. Friday evening will probably seem looooooooong. We'll survive.
Saturday we are meeting up w/my parents and sister partway out the good ole PA turnpike to have lunch and celebrate my dad's upcoming b'day. (He'll only be 56!) That oughta be fun and keep the boys amused for several hours. The drawback is that they tend to sleep in the car, which is good for while we're in the car; not so good for once we get home and Mommy is tired but they are not. We'll work it out.
Sunday I plan to do not a thing outside of this house, unless absolutely necessary. OK, maybe I'll splurge and take the boys out for McD's or ice cream or something. If I am feeling really bold, I might take them to Linvilla Orchard and let Padraic pick out a pumpkin that doesn't have a hope in hell of making it to Halloween (but it would still be fun to get it). We'll see. A lot depends on the weather and how thinly worn my nerves are by then.
Ken and I are such opposites at the childcare thing. When I travel for work, he thinks the hardest days are the ones where he has to get the kids ready for day care and then get himself to (and through) work. I think it's harder to spend the whole day trying to come up with things to keep the boys entertained and that don't make me bored out of my own mind. This is why we make such a good pair. Or at least one reason why.
Anyway, so I am bracing myself and starting to plan for what supplies we might need for the four-day Daddy absence. Number one on the list? Chocolate. In its many forms. Bars of chocolate. Hot chocolate mix. Chocolate ice cream. From there, I'm not sure. I think we probably should have diapers for Henry, but other than that, just chocolate.
9.29.2008
Bye, bye, Wachovia
I've been waiting for this news for a few months now, and the day has come: Wachovia has sold its assets (and liabilities up to $42bil) to Citigroup. So I guess our next mortgage payment will be going to Citigroup, which Ken jokingly says cannot be since then he'd be indirectly supporting the Mets. Well, who cares, now that they're out of the pennant race anyway? ;)
I continue to have unsettled feelings about the economy, the bailout that's in process, and the volatile oil-price situation. We're on track to be free of all debt (credit cards, student loans, car payments) but our mortgage by sometime in 2010, but what happens in the meantime? What happens to the home improvement project we'd wanted to do in the spring? We have a great credit rating, but should we even risk taking out a home equity loan? Should we just putter around next year, doing smaller projects around the house so we feel better about our home but only use money that comes directly from our paychecks, not from a creditor?
The one thing I do feel good about is that our "life savings" (wait a second while a giggle....ok, moving on) is at the credit union, which is financially sound since they didn't take part in any subprime mortgage lending. I'd get rid of my accounts at Commerce Bank (which recently merged with TD Banknorth), but it's the only way to keep cash available locally and seven days/week. It's nearly impossible for us to get to a branch of the credit union since the closest one is in South Philly near the stadiums, and we're about 20mi from there. Plus, they keep bankers' hours, while Commerce has at least some hours every single day. Very nice. I know our money is FDIC insured (I mean, let's be honest, we're waaaay below 100,000), but still, if a bank goes under, it's bound to cause a ripple effect in our lives while we put the money elsewhere and change over our automated payments. I don't really know what Commerce/TD's status is right now in the financial world. Guess that's some research I need to do.
Meanwhile, we still await the gas line we need for our new home heating efforts this winter. Maybe the steam pouring out of my ears will get us through until they show up to install the line, though.
I continue to have unsettled feelings about the economy, the bailout that's in process, and the volatile oil-price situation. We're on track to be free of all debt (credit cards, student loans, car payments) but our mortgage by sometime in 2010, but what happens in the meantime? What happens to the home improvement project we'd wanted to do in the spring? We have a great credit rating, but should we even risk taking out a home equity loan? Should we just putter around next year, doing smaller projects around the house so we feel better about our home but only use money that comes directly from our paychecks, not from a creditor?
The one thing I do feel good about is that our "life savings" (wait a second while a giggle....ok, moving on) is at the credit union, which is financially sound since they didn't take part in any subprime mortgage lending. I'd get rid of my accounts at Commerce Bank (which recently merged with TD Banknorth), but it's the only way to keep cash available locally and seven days/week. It's nearly impossible for us to get to a branch of the credit union since the closest one is in South Philly near the stadiums, and we're about 20mi from there. Plus, they keep bankers' hours, while Commerce has at least some hours every single day. Very nice. I know our money is FDIC insured (I mean, let's be honest, we're waaaay below 100,000), but still, if a bank goes under, it's bound to cause a ripple effect in our lives while we put the money elsewhere and change over our automated payments. I don't really know what Commerce/TD's status is right now in the financial world. Guess that's some research I need to do.
Meanwhile, we still await the gas line we need for our new home heating efforts this winter. Maybe the steam pouring out of my ears will get us through until they show up to install the line, though.
9.27.2008
It isn't fair
My friend Kate's niece, Peyton (welovepeyton.blogspot.com), who is suffering from a rare form of infant leukemia, now has a dangerous fungal infection. Definitely in her nose tissue, where her feeding tube has been, and possibly in her eye, brain, and lungs. I've never met Peyton or her father, Dru, and I've only met Kate's sister--Peyton's mother--a handful of times in my life, during our college years and again over the weekend of Kate's wedding, so why do I care so much? Well, because she's a mom and I'm a mom.
Those of you with kids will understand when I say that being a parent is like having your nerves and emotions living on the outside of your skin. Everything that goes wrong with your kid or someone else's kid is akin to having someone run a cheese grater over your body. It hurts. It just freaking hurts. You might cry at a news article about a child being abused by caregivers. Those commercials for children's charities overseas, where you see starving children in dirty villages, will make your heart cringe. Life becomes more precious when you're a parent and have someone else's life to watch over.
Babies are born with the expectation of so much potential, a lifetime of holiday memories, milestones achieved, photos in the ever-growing albums to be pored over at graduations, weddings, births of their own children. Birth should not bring about the horrifying experience that Peyton, her parents, and everyone who loves her is going through. And mostly what her parents are going through. Because although so many people love Peyton, the people who brought her into this world are the ones who are suffering most. Count on it.
It isn't fair. This little girl should be at home with her parents, enjoying the nursery they surely set up for her and getting to know her big cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, neighbors, friends. She shouldn't be in a children's oncology ward, fighting for her life.
I don't know if prayers will be enough. I really don't. But I hope that they are. I want Peyton to get the miracle that she needs. I want her parents to be able to smile and see their little girl grow up. If you're the type to pray, please do. If you deal with the universe in another way, keep Peyton and her family in your thoughts the way you feel is most appropriate. If you have money to donate, send it to St. Jude's or another charity that helps sick children, or reach out to a family in your own community that is staggering under the weight of medical bills for a child who shouldn't be sick but is. Please.
Those of you with kids will understand when I say that being a parent is like having your nerves and emotions living on the outside of your skin. Everything that goes wrong with your kid or someone else's kid is akin to having someone run a cheese grater over your body. It hurts. It just freaking hurts. You might cry at a news article about a child being abused by caregivers. Those commercials for children's charities overseas, where you see starving children in dirty villages, will make your heart cringe. Life becomes more precious when you're a parent and have someone else's life to watch over.
Babies are born with the expectation of so much potential, a lifetime of holiday memories, milestones achieved, photos in the ever-growing albums to be pored over at graduations, weddings, births of their own children. Birth should not bring about the horrifying experience that Peyton, her parents, and everyone who loves her is going through. And mostly what her parents are going through. Because although so many people love Peyton, the people who brought her into this world are the ones who are suffering most. Count on it.
It isn't fair. This little girl should be at home with her parents, enjoying the nursery they surely set up for her and getting to know her big cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, neighbors, friends. She shouldn't be in a children's oncology ward, fighting for her life.
I don't know if prayers will be enough. I really don't. But I hope that they are. I want Peyton to get the miracle that she needs. I want her parents to be able to smile and see their little girl grow up. If you're the type to pray, please do. If you deal with the universe in another way, keep Peyton and her family in your thoughts the way you feel is most appropriate. If you have money to donate, send it to St. Jude's or another charity that helps sick children, or reach out to a family in your own community that is staggering under the weight of medical bills for a child who shouldn't be sick but is. Please.
9.24.2008
Random thoughts
Ever want to feel really, really wanted and needed? Register as an Independent. You'll get more phone calls and knocks on your door during an election season than you'll know what to do with.
Henry still isn't interested in walking on his own. He'll cruise around like a little devil, but he will not let go and take that first step. He's now surpassed his big brother in terms of being a holdout. Who wants to place bets on whether he'll walk on his own before 15 months (October 11)?
After feeling like hell for 48hrs, I got an amazing night's sleep last night, and even though I'm tired today, I can't complain. It often takes feeling like crap for me to realize how good I actually feel on a regular old day.
My annual review at work is approaching, and (gasp) I haven't met all of my goals. That will be a first, and I'm not liking it. Nothing I can do about it except try harder next year. And try to learn some mental telepathy powers so I can force authors to do my bidding. LOL.
I like wearing cozy sweatshirts and comfy warm pjs when fall first comes, but the charm is going to wear off in about two weeks. Then I'll want the nice hot summer back. Winter can go bleep itself. I am not a fan of cold weather and the white stuff. And trying to buckle kids into car seats while your (inclined) driveway is a patch of ice? Talk about fodder for America's Funniest Home Videos. Good thing we leave for work before many people in the neighborhood are even awake.
In my next life I want to be a beagle that's spoiled as badly as we have spoiled our beagles. Especially the part about getting to sleep 25hrs per day. That part must really rock.
Is it evil to use the earlier sunset as an excuse to get the kids into bed at, say, 6pm? ;)
Henry still isn't interested in walking on his own. He'll cruise around like a little devil, but he will not let go and take that first step. He's now surpassed his big brother in terms of being a holdout. Who wants to place bets on whether he'll walk on his own before 15 months (October 11)?
After feeling like hell for 48hrs, I got an amazing night's sleep last night, and even though I'm tired today, I can't complain. It often takes feeling like crap for me to realize how good I actually feel on a regular old day.
My annual review at work is approaching, and (gasp) I haven't met all of my goals. That will be a first, and I'm not liking it. Nothing I can do about it except try harder next year. And try to learn some mental telepathy powers so I can force authors to do my bidding. LOL.
I like wearing cozy sweatshirts and comfy warm pjs when fall first comes, but the charm is going to wear off in about two weeks. Then I'll want the nice hot summer back. Winter can go bleep
In my next life I want to be a beagle that's spoiled as badly as we have spoiled our beagles. Especially the part about getting to sleep 25hrs per day. That part must really rock.
Is it evil to use the earlier sunset as an excuse to get the kids into bed at, say, 6pm? ;)
9.23.2008
Side effects may be more prominent than they appeared in the little pamphlet
Have you ever, like me, found it fun to mock pharmaceutical commercials for their full-speed babble about all the horrible things the drug will do to you while so-called fixing your original complaint? Jeff Foxworthy has an awesome tribute to side effects (http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Jeff_Foxworthy), and he is pretty close.
I took a new medication Sunday night (for a female issue...you don't want the details), and instead of experiencing the first-tier side effects like, say, headaches and mild nausea, I got to enjoy the second-tier side effects of staying up allllllll night long vomiting and having the shakes. Clearly, this is not the medication for me. I have not taken it since Sunday night, but, oh, it is not done with me. I am home from work today (thank God I telecommute on Mondays so I at least didn't waste another day off on this crap) to continue recuperating. I was up most of last night, though I was able to fall asleep for restless little jags starting around 3am, which, sadly, is a massive improvement over Sunday night.
I guess I'll be grateful that I didn't have the "holy crap, get to the ER right now" third tier of side effects, but when you're vomiting up individual Cheerios that you'd been hoping were innocuous enough to make it past the bouncers guarding your stomach, that distinction starts to make a lot less difference than you might think. I was at least intelligent enough to put a call in to my dr's 24hr answering service and talk to the dr on call, who calmly informed me that some people react strongly to this particular medication. No shit, Sherlock. He also informed me that what I took was a "very small dose" (and again, thank God for that) and that the symptoms would improve eventually. Again, gee, thanks. I mean, while there is some reassurance in not having a medical professional tell you to high-tail it to the ER, that fades pretty quickly when you hang up the phone and go barf for the billionth time. I felt better when I had morning sickness with Henry, and at least that was for a more worthwhile reason.
So I'll be trying to catch up on my sleep today while the remainder of my "very small dose" works its way out of my system once and for all. Then I'll give my dr a call when her office opens and see what the next step is. I can tell you what it is not: Taking any more of those horrible little pills. Next time you get a prescription and read the pamphlet, consider how you might feel if you did get some of the worse side effects. Better yet, ask your dr more questions about the drug before you agree to take it. That was my first mistake. I only learned of the first-tier side effects and went no further until it was toooooo late. Lesson learned, I can tell you that!
I took a new medication Sunday night (for a female issue...you don't want the details), and instead of experiencing the first-tier side effects like, say, headaches and mild nausea, I got to enjoy the second-tier side effects of staying up allllllll night long vomiting and having the shakes. Clearly, this is not the medication for me. I have not taken it since Sunday night, but, oh, it is not done with me. I am home from work today (thank God I telecommute on Mondays so I at least didn't waste another day off on this crap) to continue recuperating. I was up most of last night, though I was able to fall asleep for restless little jags starting around 3am, which, sadly, is a massive improvement over Sunday night.
I guess I'll be grateful that I didn't have the "holy crap, get to the ER right now" third tier of side effects, but when you're vomiting up individual Cheerios that you'd been hoping were innocuous enough to make it past the bouncers guarding your stomach, that distinction starts to make a lot less difference than you might think. I was at least intelligent enough to put a call in to my dr's 24hr answering service and talk to the dr on call, who calmly informed me that some people react strongly to this particular medication. No shit, Sherlock. He also informed me that what I took was a "very small dose" (and again, thank God for that) and that the symptoms would improve eventually. Again, gee, thanks. I mean, while there is some reassurance in not having a medical professional tell you to high-tail it to the ER, that fades pretty quickly when you hang up the phone and go barf for the billionth time. I felt better when I had morning sickness with Henry, and at least that was for a more worthwhile reason.
So I'll be trying to catch up on my sleep today while the remainder of my "very small dose" works its way out of my system once and for all. Then I'll give my dr a call when her office opens and see what the next step is. I can tell you what it is not: Taking any more of those horrible little pills. Next time you get a prescription and read the pamphlet, consider how you might feel if you did get some of the worse side effects. Better yet, ask your dr more questions about the drug before you agree to take it. That was my first mistake. I only learned of the first-tier side effects and went no further until it was toooooo late. Lesson learned, I can tell you that!
9.22.2008
He kissed me!
The greatest joy of my life is that Ken and I have two little boys. They are not always in a good mood (and neither am I), but they bring me joy on a daily basis. Today's best moment was when Henry kissed me for the first time. I feel silly, but I'm welling up with tears just thinking about it. It was one of those amazing but awkward kisses from a baby who keeps his mouth wide open and just plants it firmly into the side of your face. Or nose. Whatever happens to be in the way. I've had a few rough days lately, but that little moment really brightened this one for me. I couldn't get him to repeat it, but I know it's only a matter of time. Just like him deciding to walk on his own. Just a matter of time.
Meanwhile, his big brother continues to grow at such a fast pace, both physically and in maturity, that it astounds me to think he was once a tiny baby in my arms. If I try to pick him up now, that nasty shoulder injury acts up, and that is such a shame. I am not old enough to be falling apart at the seams and unable to carry my children. But even if I can't carry Padraic, I can still hold him, and I try to get in as much snuggle time as I can. Because at what age is it that boys stop wanting to snuggle with their moms (or dads) and start to be macho and independent? Please, please say it's a long time from now. I'll be proud to see them grow into young men, but my heart will ache when they stop showing the affection they do now both spontaneously and when encouraged.
Meanwhile, his big brother continues to grow at such a fast pace, both physically and in maturity, that it astounds me to think he was once a tiny baby in my arms. If I try to pick him up now, that nasty shoulder injury acts up, and that is such a shame. I am not old enough to be falling apart at the seams and unable to carry my children. But even if I can't carry Padraic, I can still hold him, and I try to get in as much snuggle time as I can. Because at what age is it that boys stop wanting to snuggle with their moms (or dads) and start to be macho and independent? Please, please say it's a long time from now. I'll be proud to see them grow into young men, but my heart will ache when they stop showing the affection they do now both spontaneously and when encouraged.
9.19.2008
Time
I spend a good part of each day striving to be efficient, on time or ahead of it with tasks, and so on. Given the effort I expend on things like meeting deadlines at work, making dinner as soon as possible after work to avoid having the whole family starve to death, keeping enough clean laundry in our dressers to avoid having us go to school and work naked, I admit that I am pretty miffed when other people don't follow through in the same timely fashion with things. In fact, lately I feel like I am running a race that no one else is even aware of. Why do I even bother? Probably just because I would feel disappointed in myself if I slacked off, but apparently others do not have the same kind of feeling about tardiness and foot-dragging that I do.
The main focus of today's rage is how freakin' long it has taken to get not all the way through the process of having our house hooked to the natural gas line. The utility company filed the necessary permit paperwork back on June 19. By August 19, not a single thing had happened, and we started banging down doors, so to speak, to find out what the hell was taking so long. A week later, we arrived home to find that the one-call had been made because there were spray painted markings in the street and on our front lawn, pointing out where all the hidden utilities are. Good, we thought. According to Ken, you need to do a one-call within 10 business days of starting the work you're planning to do. I thought we were nearly home-free.
Except today is business day #10, and no one has come to tear up my lawn yet and install the gas line. The nights are getting down into the 60s, and soon we will want to turn on the heat to keep the boys from turning into kidsicles in the middle of the night. Ken and I will be fine since we each end up with a beagle glued to us while we're sleeping anyway, but it would be awfully nice to raise our children in a home with heat this fall and winter. If gas weren't so flammable, I swear I'd be out front with a shovel right now, doing it myself.
The main focus of today's rage is how freakin' long it has taken to get not all the way through the process of having our house hooked to the natural gas line. The utility company filed the necessary permit paperwork back on June 19. By August 19, not a single thing had happened, and we started banging down doors, so to speak, to find out what the hell was taking so long. A week later, we arrived home to find that the one-call had been made because there were spray painted markings in the street and on our front lawn, pointing out where all the hidden utilities are. Good, we thought. According to Ken, you need to do a one-call within 10 business days of starting the work you're planning to do. I thought we were nearly home-free.
Except today is business day #10, and no one has come to tear up my lawn yet and install the gas line. The nights are getting down into the 60s, and soon we will want to turn on the heat to keep the boys from turning into kidsicles in the middle of the night. Ken and I will be fine since we each end up with a beagle glued to us while we're sleeping anyway, but it would be awfully nice to raise our children in a home with heat this fall and winter. If gas weren't so flammable, I swear I'd be out front with a shovel right now, doing it myself.
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