Sunday, September 30, 2007

Maybe not a mistake

Summer's pollution gauze has lifted and the clear blue of fall is far far above us as we sit outside without bitching about heat or bugs. The neighbor uses heavy machinery and yells in Spanish to his friends as they cut down leaves, branches, trunks high above the roofs. My mother watches earnestly, purporting an interest in botany and calling us often to watch as the men leap from branch to cherry-picker and wood crashes past them to the ground.

The babies lurch more quickly and talk to each other in guttural growls only they understand, punctuated more and more often with actual human language. The girl plays with shoes, the boy complains eloquently enough without many words. The little boy fills the vacuum of noise left by his brother's post-operative silence and loves the kitten until it says "me." The big boy is healed by his brother and sister's weekend visit and makes pizza from foam and titans from pixels. The biggest boy is quiet, enigmatic. The big girl is resilient and innocent, still cheerful despite bullying and uncertain supervision.

I read other mothers' blogs and the love shines from them, and I wonder what I'm missing, why my children so often seem like something to survive. This weekend, though, I see it. Sometimes they almost glow.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

The tonsils have left the building

Big boy had his tonsils and adenoids out this morning, and he did better than I could have hoped. Thank goodness. He was brave as anything, and I tried for a brave face too, but I'm glad it's over. It's been less than 12 hours, and he's up and getting himself obscene amounts of ice cream, with much less whining than I feared.

Boy twin, on the other hand, who had no part of his body surgically altered today and who was cleared by the pediatrician just 2 days ago when I took him in because of his excessive freaking bitching and moaning has spent the day, predictably, bitching and moaning. I really do love him, I swear, but he is NOT a pleasant baby most of the time. I keep hoping it's something he'll outgrow, but I feel for his future teachers/spouses/children if this persists. At least I only have 16.5 years left of it, max. Because his butt's going to bounce when I throw him to the curb on his 18th birthday.

I am procrastinating - I need to plan for my class tomorrow (I've been planning a week in advance like Donna recommended, but I fell off the wagon). I'm loving the teaching thing. And my boss said I could have more sections next semester, so yay! I'm going to try to start taking my last four pre-med pre-requisites soon, too, if local colleges would get their butts in gear and post their winter schedules already. I love love love volunteering at the hospital. It's seriously addictive, I never want to leave when I'm there. Hmm, what else can I talk about that doesn't involve grading quizzes? Oh, i just read Water for Elephants, which was really really good. Between it and an elderly patient I worked with the other day, I keep thinking about novel ideas involving old men. Because I'm original like that.

Sigh. Fine, I'll work.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Tired

Something seems to be wrong with Boy Twin. He has been exceedingly fussy, even for him, all weekend, and now he has sworn off sleep. That's not strictly true, as he's actually asleep right now, across my arms as I type, but he flatly refuses to let me sleep. Tomorrow (today?) is my 3rd day volunteering at the hospital, and so far I don't think I've gotten more than 4 hours of sleep before any of my shifts. Makes it harder to memorize the gigantic amount of stuff I need to learn there when my mind is wrapped in cotton batting.

We had a great weekend, though. My husband has been working about a million hours a week, and I haven't been all that gracious about the whole single-parenthood thing, but this weekend we all hung out together and the weather was beautiful and except for one whiny-ass baby, things were good. I love it when the weather's so nice that the kids spend all day outside and the house is none the worse for wear (although it's still plenty "worse" from last week, sadly it still does not self-clean).

My hospital volunteering has me so excited about becoming a doctor that I don't want to wait three years to start medical school, as my original plan required, so I'm trying to relearn the science I once knew and start taking the remaining prerequisites this winter. I got a refresher chemistry book from the library (okay, my mother checked it out for me, I'm still persona non grata at the library) and read the whole thing this weekend - it was fun to observe my own brain dredging up old information, one ah-ha after another. How much of it I'll retain this time remains to be seen, especially since I only slept about 3 hours tonight (last night) and I think I read that you have to sleep after learning something for it to stick. Which means I've learned nothing in about 7 years. Which actually sounds about right.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Feeling like a real live girl

You know, like in Pinocchio (wow, I spelled that all kinds of wrong at first, thank goodness for google)? "I'm a real boy!" Well, that's me - a real girl, that is. The September ramp-up period is nearly over, and the family is in full schedule mode now, and it feels really good to have outside interests to break up some of the 24/7 giving that is life with small children. I'm settled into my class now and I think I'm actually doing a decent job. It's a lot more fun than I thought it would be - I hope they give me another section or two next semester, too. And I started my hospital volunteering this week. After a couple hours of running around for badges and paperwork and TB tests and scrubs and badges again and scrubs again and paperwork again, I finally got to start in the real live Trauma PACU today, and it was really cool. I'm volunteering at a teaching hospital, so they're used to having to explain things, and everyone was really nice, and I'm really looking forward to going again on Friday. Plus! I got to wear scrubs! (Picture, including extra chins and missing top-of-the-head, courtesy of little boy):























Also - little boy's birthday went splendidly, big boy is having his tonsils out next Wednesday (gulp), and gorgeous fall weather has arrived. The best part of the fall weather has to be the new outfits for the babies (not the best expressions, but check out the shoes!):
























Little boy got some awesome new hand-me-downs, too:

And yes, the still-nameless kitten is still alive! I think he may be down a couple lives, though.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Doing better

I'm still here, and life feels less painful though still a little overwhelming. My mother is back, though, and my friend is in town and helping me catch up on the disaster that my house became in sympathy with my mind last week. Just in time, as little boy's birthday is tomorrow and I'm totally not ready and haven't slept much in a week or two to boot. To boot is a funny expression.

Updates in bullet form, as I must must must start cleaning and got about 4 hours of sleep and can only think in fragments:

  • Boy twin got ear tubes in on Wednesday. One of them got a blood clot on it, which has resulted in some oogy looking blood-from-ear, but otherwise it went well and the change in his personality has been dramatic. He's SO pleasant. Poor baby must have been hurting more than we knew!
  • Big boy was evaluated for tonsillectomy/adenoidectomy and is a go for surgery. The theory here is that his sleep issues stem in part from faulty anatomy and are contributing to behavior problems. Let's hope it works!
  • Big boy again - he had a GREAT week at school this week, didn't cry once and went to bed like a champ every night. Thank. God. Apparently 2 weeks was the required adjusted period. It would be so handy if he'd post that kind of information ahead of time.
  • Still no dryer. The one we ordered was delivered 2 days late and didn't fit down the stairs to the basement. Suck suck suck. Still working on ordering another, smaller dryer.
  • We got a kitten. Because yes, a kitten is EXACTLY what I needed. It was more a mission of mercy, though, than a true mental aberration. Poor kitty was about to be dumped in the woods by a weird crackho with 5 kids in the car, and was so covered w/fleas he had fleabite anemia. The vet said he's only 4-6 weeks old and shouldn't even be away from his mama. He's SO tiny (the cat, not the vet), but really feisty and tough. Still nameless, since big boy can't commit, so I think he's probably going to end up stuck as Kitty.

I think that's the highlights. Off to clean/stash stuff in closets.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Blue, baby, blue

So, I'm moving on from yesterday's silver-lining-seeking and entering the dwelling-on-it phase of this mood front. You know the stages of grief? I should document my own stages of falling-off-the-edge-for-no-freaking-reason. For example:

1) Denial (doesn't everything start with denial?). I get more preoccupied, more confused, more forgetful, but without really noticing at first. My world grows smaller and harder to handle, gradually and then faster and faster, until it's so small I'm forgetting the rest of the world and denial becomes impossible to sustain. I then move on to:
2) Determination to avoid, this time, the joy-sucking darkness of mind, the fear and anxiousness and paralysis of the next stage. Another stage in denial, really, where I look for things that don't suck (and sometimes post them in lists, see below). Inevitably, this does not work, and then comes:
3) Suck. The point at which I give up the pretense that life is livable under these mental/emotional conditions and wallow in the misery. Today, in other words. It's 8:45pm, I took 2 naps today, I'm still in last night's pjs, the kids have been left to the tender mercies of their father's loving but fairly distracted care all day, all meals have been leftovers, I've read an entire novel, and I just sobbed at a children's movie, prompting big boy to say "you're crying over a stupid movie?" Hello, daily-crying-about-school pot, I'm a kettle. Everything feels wrong, I feel wrong, words sound wrong, food tastes wrong, noises are loud and jangly and...wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
4) The stage that's hard to see from here. I know, intellectually, that stage 3 does not last forever. Believing it is tough at times. Medicine helps. Maybe this time it will be short.

So there you have it, falling apart in four easy steps.

Friday, September 07, 2007

TGIF

It's been a long while since I was this happy to get to a Friday. If that which does not kill us truly makes us stronger, we ought to be getting stronger any day now around here. So far, we have not had a single school day start without big boy in tears, and the twins are feeling better but are now terminally spoiled from being held through their illness and whine a hideous "eh eh eh" duet all the livelong day.

But! It's finally the weekend, so I am determined to try to find a bright side and dwell on it. Some options I've come up with for positive thinking:

1) Designing either mother's jewelry or a tattoo that somehow represents all of my kids, now that I'm damn certain I'm done having them.
2) Working on the computing class I'm teaching. It's both more fun and more difficult than I thought it would be, and is a good diversion from family life. Diversions are good. Anyway, my friend has challenged me to prepare for a WHOLE WEEK of class in advance, to be ready no later than Sunday night. I think it's madness (so far, I've felt pretty well prepared if I had everything set 12 hours before class started), but I'll give it a whirl.
3) House painting. My sister came to visit this week and ended up painting my bathroom and kitchen. Now I want to paint the other rooms on the first floor. And hey! A friend is coming to visit from out of town next week! I wonder if SHE would like to paint?
4) Pioneer living. With our dryer still out, I've been hanging clothes (and cloth diapers) to dry outside. The weather has been cooperating, so it's actually been really fun. Not that I won't welcome the new dryer that should be here Monday, of course.
5) Dreaming. I got almost no sleep last night, but DID have a great Hugh Laurie dream (although his name in my dream was John Book - wasn't that Harrison Ford's character in Witness?). No worries, I'm not pregnant, just having flashback dreams, apparently.

Also, I'm getting very excited about winning my father-in-law's Last Man Standing football pool again this year. I think my complete ignorance of all things football really helped me last year, as I was able to put my full confidence in a combination of my own psychic energy and the USA Today odds page with no interference at all from actual information or understanding. I've learned nothing at all about football in the interim, so I'm sure my cluelessness will serve me equally well this season.

Best of all, we have no real plans this weekend, so I can catch up on some sleep and occasionally go to the bathroom in peace. I hear that I'm going to miss these little ankle-biters when they're older, but I've also heard that women's sex drives peak in their early 30s. Obviously not universal.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

More of the same

I feel like I should post, but since my days lately have been literally filled with screaming from very early morning (I think today is still yesterday to me, technically, since boy-twin managed the night shift single-handedly last night) until late night (well, late-night by the standards of a very tired thirtysomething lifeless mother of too-goddamned-many, it's 9:45 and I am ready for some SILENCE, DAMN IT), my train of thought has been a few cars short of...well, a train. A few lumps of coal short of a hopper? Cards short of a deck? Cheese sliding off the cracker? God, I'm tired, and my ears ache from the screaming.

So, just another update. The twins officially have hand foot and mouth disease, which sounds like a livestock illness except that you can't keep the kids in a barn, even though they act like they were born in one, what with the door-leaving-opening and all. Damned mosquitoes. What? Oh, sorry, my stream of consciousness hit a dry spell, or a tributary, and my metaphors are not all that well thought out at the moment. Although I'm not so far gone as to not linger on my love of the metaphor. Or the tangent. Or the padded room and Valium.

Crap, where was I? Oh, the twins. Yeah, sick. Stupid virus that's not dangerous or treatable but very painful and results in twins unable to eat, nurse, sleep, or do anything other than whine and scream (whining under the influence of tylenol, scream when the meds wear off). Big boy is, as I type this at almost 10pm, going into hour 2 of the nightly bedtime screamfest, despite a therapy appointment today that gave me what now appears to be false hope and an afternoon of absolutely charming and pleasant behavior. My own mother told me today that if she were in my shoes, she would run away, and although I would not call that helpful advice, particularly, it is a little reassuring to hear that the unbearable nature of this behavior is not merely in the eye of this particular beholder. Hmm, that one's not a metaphor. Idiom? Whatever. Oh, and our clothes dryer died. Usually, appliance rebellions send me into hysterics, but it hardly even registers against the backdrop of the constant noise and the no sleep.

Oooo, but my sister-in-law just called, and her water broke and she's on her way to the hospital, so I'm about to be an aunt again. Yay for new babies who are not. mine.!

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Illness, mental and physical

Little boy: Look! I in time-out!
Mommy: Why are you in time-out?
Little boy (a little proudly): I killed a baby! HAHAHAHA!

Our mental health benefits are really going to get a workout over the years, I have a feeling. Like they're not already.

So, I haven't posted in awhile. Here is the update of suck in a nutshell: Big boy's first week of school totally sucked. The twins and I have some African-sleeping-sickness-type illness wherein we whine and sleep as close to 24 hours a day as we can but have no other symptoms. My husband has introduced the big kids to the joy and social death of peer-to-peer gaming, so the rest of us are gaming widows/orphans. In better news, my mother is back, just in time to do everything while I sleep and my husband plays on the computer.

I spent too much time hoping the long weekend would have good weather, and forgot to add in a wish for no plague. Back to bed.