What It's Like

Below is a picture of my 3 monkeys.  My four year old on the far right is named Jacob and he has Autism.  He's beautiful. 

I get a lot of emails and Facebook postings in regards to Autism in an attempt to educate myself about my son's condition.  I don't read all of them and I rarely watch a video. Today I did, and I am so glad. It's hard to explain how it feels to have a child with Autism and not everyone has the same experience. I find it hard to put my feelings about my son into words. I don't want to get emotional or sound flippant, I don't want pity and I don't want to make others feel uncomfortable. Questions are welcome, parenting advice is not. 

The video I watched today.......nailed it. At least for me. This father, without using spoken words, said exactly what I feel. And when he held up the notecard that says, "They came to our house.", my tears started flowing. Ugh, I hate crying sooo much! But that day those people came to my house to assess Jacob was, excuse my language, absolutely shitty!

In fact the experience inspired me to write a poem, not something you will usually get from me unless it's more like a dirty limerick. I copied my poem below this video. Will you watch it for me?  Will you read my poem? I appreciate you.

A deep, searing breath

a retching cough

rub my eyes

tuck a curl behind my ear

wipe the hot tears off my cheeks

3 faces swimming in my living room

telling me my youngest needs further assesment forAutism

I scoop up my son

I offer them coffee and fudge

he sings Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star into my ear

I squeeze him and rock him

I glance at the clock

one face asks me if I need to leave to pick up my other kids

I say no we have 30 minutes

He laughs, looks at his colleagues and says, "We rocked this.".

Another face grimaces and asks me if I have questions.

Yes.

Can you be wrong?

Can somebody else with more letters behind their surname

deliver better news?

And once my child suceeds beyond all expectations

can his records be sealed so nobody can ever label him?

I need to go to bed,

I need to drive,

I need to drink,

I need to go to the beach and feel the sand beneath my toes,

I need the sound of the surf in my ears,

I need the cold wind to bring fresh tears to my eyes.

I need to yell,

I need to kick,

I need to hit,

And I can't.

I am a mother

and I have to maintain.

I have to smile.

I have to love.

Jump through hoops.

I need help.

My Son Will Never Be a Mountain Climber

Well we attempted a weekend vacation in beautiful Truckee, CA but my oldest puked his guts out.  


It started Saturday morning when he got up at 5am, ugh.  He usually gets up at 7a, and an inability to sleep is a symptom of altitude sickness.  But I didn't know that, I just thought he was being a pain in the ass. 


Then Auntie M. bought them a big box of Captain Crunch which my kids have never eaten and Mike could barely gag it down! That caused me a little concern because he loves sugar. 


The clincher was right before we were to leave for a day at Lake Tahoe he puked.  So everyone left and I stayed with Mike who was crying and begging to go to the beach.  I told him if he could keep some applesauce down we would go to the beach. He ate some applesauce and I set the timer and watched him.  He said he was great so we headed for the beach. 


25 minutes into our drive we passed the sign stating that we just passed 7,000 ft. elevation.  I looked in my rearview mirror and Mike was green. "Buddy do you need to throw up?" , "Yes mommy.".  Oh shit I am on a two-lane semi-rural highway looking for a place to pull over. I found it too late! Poor Mike spewed applesauce all over the inside of our van.  He got each row and the side of van as well once he made it out. And all over himself. All I had to clean him up was a few flimsy wipes and some socks. Gross!!


We turned around and went  back to the cabin.  Where he bathed and I scrubbed the van. Thankfully Bekah and Jake went ahead to the beach with Auntie M. so while Mike watched t.v. and barfed again all over the master bathroom, I packed up. I had no desire to do this all weekend. 


 Great Uncle Les was traveling with us and is a doctor so he called in some anti-nausea pills for Mike. And they brought those back with them to the cabin.  Mike immediately swallowed one and then all 3 kids started to cry about having to leave. Heartbreaking. 


Auntie M. volunteered to keep Bekah for the weekend and I loaded up my tearful boys.  Mike was able to eat some mini-pretzels on the way home and kept them down.  I made it home from Truckee in 2.5 hours, I flew! Now Sunday he is eating everything in sight and bouncing off the walls. Since nobody else is vomiting it's obvious that it was indeed altitude sickness and not a stomach bug or food poisoning. And the link below supports my uneducated diagnosis. 


Beach vacations only from here on out!!!!




http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0001190/

The 10 Rules For Being a N.E.O. Mom

1. NEO Moms promote a positive body image to their children.

2. NEO Moms get along with their parenting partner most of the time.

3. NEO Moms support a person's right to choose.

4. NEO Moms are patriotic.

5. NEO Moms like to party, laugh and just generally have a good time.

6. NEO Moms support, protect, and nurture their children.

7. NEO Moms expect their children to behave most of the time, especially in public.

8. NEO Moms take care of themselves.

9. NEO Moms have common sense priorities.

10. NEO Moms don't always follow the rules.


Ok so now I need to add some explanation to these rules.

1. Don't worry I don't expect you to feed your kids tofu and sprouts and make them do Yoga. What I mean by promoting a positive body image is don't be anorexic or obese. That's all. And I feel that I can speak with some authority on this issue because I have been both a size 16 and now I am somewhere between a 4 and a 6. But we all know women's clothing sizes are a scam so in reality I probably used to be a size 20 and now I am a size 8.

So what I am saying is that you just have to be as healthy as you can be for your kid's sake. Because if I didn't have kids I would be eating whatever I wanted and swilling alcohol and who knows what else. But now that I have 3 dependents I have to eat stuff like salad and get all gross and sweaty exercising. It's very important that I watch all 3 of them graduate college and of course my daughter will need me to take over all of her wedding planning.


2. I chose the term parenting partner because not all of us have a legal spouse. You may have a boyfriend or a lesbian lover or be single. I really don't care but my point was that you need to get along with them most of the time especially in front of your children. Domestic abuse is not cool.


3. Choice is important to me and to pretty much any mother who doesn't get offended easily. And I have a wide definition for rule #3. So I may lose some women with this, but I am including a woman's right to choose to terminate a pregnancy as a valid and respected choice.

I won't stop there though, a NEO Mom also respects a woman's right to breast-feed or not, to work or stay-at-home with the kids, to pierce their daughter's earrings or to circumcise their sons. It's really none of your damn business what other moms do if it is not hurting their child or your's. And real moms know this. A not easily offended mother knows that with every decision a mother makes, there are wakeful nights, and long discussions, and reading through baby books. It's never easy.

4. Ok so some of my friends are like WTF?! Yes that's right I am unapologetically patriotic and I think this is a very good rule. I get goose bumps and teary-eyed every time I hear the National Anthem. I love this country and it's people and it's founding prinicples. A lot of people think America sucks right now but it's our govt. that sucks not our people. So does patriotic mean you have to fly the flag in front of your house to be a NEO Mom? No, look at rule #3. Does this mean you can't burn the flag if you get pissed off? No, look at rule #3. Actually I think to deny somebody the right to burn the flag is very Un-American. But if you burn my flag I think you are an asshole. Of course I will fight for your right to be an asshole because that is the American Way.


5. So don't worry that you can't be a NEO Mom if you are in recovery. If I said you had to drink booze to be a cool mom then I would be like that jock in high school trying to get into your panties. No you don't have to drink, or whatever, but you do need to like at least cake or ice cream or chocolate and ,you realize life is way too short to not be able to laugh at least once a day.

6. This is kind of a no-brainer isn't it? Does this mean you can never yell at your kids or make mistakes? Shit I hope not! You just have to take a deep breath once in awhile and realize that you are all they have. You are mommy, the all powerful, and it is your job to protect, defend and nurture their little souls.


7. An adult woman is not afraid of a child. Even if that child is a criminally insane 3 year old. A competent mother expects their child to behave especially in public. But a NEO Mom expects only age appropriate behavior from their children. What I mean is that you can't take a 2 year old to a fancy restaurant and expect them to maintain, it's just not fair to all involved. Now if you are at a family pizza parlor, they are most likely going to be loud and squirmy but they still have to sit and eat some of their food and not throw most of it on the floor. I think that is reasonable.

I was at such an establishment recently and my 20 month old was boisterous and it was fine with me, he was eating his food and sitting for along time. This place has an arcade and a bar and is very loud and this one old man was actually giving my son dirty looks! Are you insane? This was not the place you take a date! So he was not a NEO Mom, he had no clue as to what a child's limits are. My 4 year old on the other hand was forced to sit and eat before he could play any arcade games, and he was ready to go out of his mind until I gave him the stink eye and that was it.


8. Sleep deprivation, stress, hormones, hunger. Those are 4 letter words when you are a mom. I know it's not always possible to take a nap but you have to eat, you have to breathe or you will lose it. I love those magazines that tell you to get a sitter and go get a massage.............well duh if we could we would right? How about locking yourself in the bathroom with a book and a glass of wine/beer? If you have toddlers like I do you know they are not going to get hurt because they will be on the other side of the door trying to get in. I just sit on the toilet and stare at their fingers as they slip them under the door and cry mommy. But for the safety of all I need a few minutes before I can open that door again.

9. This is another no-brainer. If you want a new pair of shoes and your kid is hungry..........the shoes can wait. Here is another analogy, what is more important dirty dishes or getting a 30 minute nap while you can? The nap wins everytime. You don't want to be yelling at your kids all of the time and seriously you will have tons of time to do dishes when they are in college. I live in a part of the country that has ants. This is what I do if I need sleep and I have dirty dishes. Pile them in the sink and then take dish soap and squirt it all the way around your sink, the ants will get lodged in the soap and die while you nap and then you can just wipe them up. Don't act all stuck-up and think I am gross, you know you are going to do it.

10. It's true, rules are for shitheads. These are more like guidelines or something amusing to read during the kids' naps.

A Vow Deconstructed

in sickness and in health,
to love and to cherish;
from this day forward,
until death do us part. 


On our wedding day, as we stand in our finest before our friends and family we repeat these vows and largely take them for granted. 


 Well of course I will bring you a blankie and the remote while you are laid up on the couch, I can make chicken noodle soup and rub your feet and I can run to the pharmacy.  If I must, I can clean up after you and I can definitely pick up the phone and call your mom to come save your ass.  


It's really when you have a few years of marriage under your belt and something arises that let's you really know what those vows mean. Maybe your husband falls off a bike and breaks a leg. All of a sudden your independent man needs your help and sometimes he's cranky about it. Or in my case I started a new medication this evening that is supposed to help with my ulcerative colitis.  


I read all the instructions and I even used the practice "pen" they gave me but lucky for me my husband is a family practice doctor and I asked him to do it for me. I laid on my back on the couch and he swabbed me with alcohol and gave me 4 different injections in my stomach. It hurt but I just pretended I was getting a tattoo. 


We cleaned up and I changed into some sweat pants since my tummy was sore and I asked him to please do bedtime and I would make him dinner.  After the kids were in bed I thanked him for giving me those injections and not being grossed out.  He said it was his pleasure and that he just wants me to feel better. 


To love and to cherish, he makes that very easy to do.

Grandma Hazel

This is the eulogy I delivered for my Grandmother yesterday. I wasn't the only one to speak kind words and my Aunt Kitty and Uncle Mike really put together a service as beautiful as my Grandmother. I wish I could say my gorgeous children sat quietly during the service but no, my dear husband ended up taking them to McDonald's.  The were the best dressed family there. And I am eternally gratefully to Erik for going beyond the call of husband and father yesterday, and just being a completely awesome and patient person. I also delivered this eulogy wearing my husband's right contact lens instead of my own, just to add some extra challenge to the whole public speaking tension.





There are several things that will always remind me of my Grandmother: the status of poodles, and Cadillacs. The luxury of perfume, and Cashmere sweaters. Grandma was always perfectly put together, her dogs were groomed, her house spotless, and she smelled wonderful and felt so soft. She was by far the most glamorous person I have ever met. Grandma Hazel could wear white slacks and gold sandals to a BBQ and stay stain free. My girl cousins and I would love to open her bathroom drawers and stare mesmerized at all the lipsticks and lotions.

But she didn't always have access to these conditions. There is no status in migrating to California during the Depression. No luxury in sleeping under a bridge ( pictured above is the 7th Street bridge my Grandmother slept underneath, which is still located in Modesto, Ca.)  with your siblings. There is nothing clean about having 6 kids of your own.  And there will never be any glamour in outliving one of your own sons.






The beauty and order Grandma surrounded herself was much deserved. Both her and Grandpa Bill worked hard to build their life. They were excellent role models for hard work and learning new skills. Grandma Hazel didn't learn to play the piano and do ceramics until later in life. And Grandpa was always reading and educating himself.






And even though Grandma loved her family unconditionally, that doesn't mean occasionally she wouldn't try to change you. Us grand kids learned early on not to mention if we were feeling under the weather. Grandma would take this opportunity to pump us full of vitamins or make you drink some strange herbal concoction. She wouldn't mind performing minor surgery on our dirty feet to get out a splinter or rubbing Vitamin E oil on some mystery rash. She was an excellent nurse but wasn't afraid to experiment on us either.






I know my Grandma Hazel loved me. She gave me tons of hugs and kisses and spoiled me rotten. But I am pretty sure she thought my hair was out robbing liquor stores at night. I worshipped her so much I really didn't mind the experiments she attempted on my unruly hair. My mom would leave me at Grandma's house and she would be instantly washing and conditioning my hair in the kitchen sink. It was like a spa day. I didn't mind the crazy hair cuts, I didn't mind the olive oil and the beer rinse didn't bother me at all. It was the homemade mayonnaise I objected to. I smelled like a bologna sandwich for 2 days!






I wasn't the only grandchild, my brothers and my cousins were always at Grandma and Grandpa's house. Often for days at a time. And they played with us. Grandma would play on the piano with us, take us to parks, bowling, shopping and dye Easter eggs with us. Grandpa played cards with us,played pool with us, and let us follow him around the garden, and read all of his books. We were never bored and felt safe and loved. All of us running around the backyard, sleeping on the floor in sleeping bags and crowded around the kitchen or patio table.






Over the years family, just like friends, drift apart. I am so grateful for the memories my grandparents gave me and my cousins. And now that I have kids of my own I realize it's not that easy to organize family gatherings or reunions. I do want to offer my kids the same positive experience that we all had. I know that Grandma would want today to be more of a happy reflection and celebration of life. A chance for everyone to re-connect, to forget any differences, and to be loving role models for our new family members.






One day I was out to lunch with Grandma and she told me there wasn't a lot of love and affection in her childhood home. And as an adult she went to visit her brother Clarence at his home one day. Clarence walked up to her and hugged her. She was very surprised, but she said it felt so good to her that she hugged him back. She told me to remember to hug people and tell them that you love them otherwise they may never know how you feel.






I found an Irish Blessing perfect for the wife of a roofer.






May the roof above us never fall in.


And may the friends gathered below it never fall out.





End of eulogy.

I asked a dear friend who currently lives in Stanislaus County if she knew of any non-religious type organizations that help homeless children.  Modesto, where my Grandmother migrated to as a homeless child is in Stanislaus County, and my Grandma Hazel was never strongly religious. |My friend Daphne found a couple of places. Thank you so much Daphne that really means a lot to me.

Hutton House

Pathways

Me, my mom Louise, Grandma Hazel and my daughter Rebekah Hazel. R.I.P. Grandma nobody will ever be as beautiful as you.

Hurricane Katrina 5 years later

I remember that August well. My oldest was 15 months old and I was hugely pregnant with my daughter. Mike was playing with a Hot Wheels track and I was watching super hottie Anderson Cooper on CNN while folding laundry.

That was Anderson Cooper's epic coverage of the Super Dome in New Orleans, with all the stranded victims of Hurricane Katrina. As he talked to the camera a hugely pregnant woman shuffled behind him. I gasped. Here I am cool, comfortable, safe and well-fed watching a woman as pregnant as me sweating, with no access to food or water. I started bawling.

Michael is the emotional barometer in our home and he was immediately concerned. Just then my husband opened our front door which faced our living room. And this is where it gets funny. My dear husband saw his crying pregnant wife, holding his son and Erik actually took one step backwards. He stood on the threshold of our home, one foot in and  one foot out, and stole a quick glance over his shoulder. He was thinking of making a run for it!!  Erik was struggling hard to think what he had done to make me cry and how he could escape punishment. What a chicken.

I explained to him why I was crying, and it wasn't until he realized he was not guilty of anything that he felt safe walking into the house and shutting our front door. In his defense I was a little psycho when I was pregnant.

Now I have a 6 year old, an almost 5 year old and a 3 year old. I am so happy to not be pregnant during another summer! But I still wonder about that other pregnant woman. Did she and her baby make it?  Is her child going to start Kindergarten next year like my daughter Bekah? Does she, or did she have more kids?  Does she still live in New Orleans? I can only pray that she is safe now.

No Excuse, Support Exists

A side effect of being a mom, and especially a stay-at-home mom, is isolation. When my oldest was born I was so lucky to have an awesome neighbor whose 2nd son was born the day after my firstborn.  We talked on the phone, we walked in the mornings, we traded dinners, we watched trashy reality t.v. together. I thought this whole mothering thing was a piece of cake.

Then my friend moved 2 states away. I had never felt so alone in my life. I found a mom's club and even though I eventually got kicked out because of my big mouth, I am still close friends with these women.  I have known them now for 5 years and they have been a huge support.

Now I have 3 kids.  Just a few months ago my oldest was diagnosed with ADHD and Sensory Processing Disorder and my youngest was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder (which is basically Autism). I felt the same way that I did when my friend moved away, alone.

I cried and felt sorry for myself and drank too many beers and yelled at my kids and refused to have sex with my husband.   And then I sucked it up and started looking for help.

So we all know about 9-1-1 and 4-1-1 but have you heard of 2-1-1?  This number is somewhere in between 9-1-1 and 4-1-1, if you aren't having a full blown emergency but need more info than a phone number, than 2-1-1 is for you.  Crisis intervention, family counseling, parenting classes etc. Free of charge.

Through them I was able to find out about CARE Parent Network.  They hooked me up with another mom who has a son with ADHD and a son with Autism!!! That's better service than an online dating website, and it's free. This mom called me before mother's day when I just happened to be wine-tasting in Napa.  I told her I couldn't talk at the moment and she said she was extremely jealous.  But she called me back this evening, and Erik had taken the kids to the gym, so I was actually able to talk on the phone. We talked for an hour. We had a lot in common.

This hour long conversation was informative, but mostly therapeutic.  The kind of phone call where you are scrambling for a pen to write down what she has to say, but where you also can just take comfort that somebody has walked a mile in your shoes. And she is still standing.

I am not the only parent in this family, I am not a single mom and Lord above I never want to be!  So on my husband's day off I am dragging him to a Saturday full of parenting classes. Classes for parents of children with special needs; that's us.

After my firstborn got kicked out of his second preschool I found the ever so amazing School Of Imagination.  My friends always tell me that I should be their spokesperson because I praise them so often. I can't help my enthusiasm, I love this school.  Your kid could be as difficult as  you can imagine, and they will nurture and bring out the best. School of Imagination also offers parenting seminars and other community outreach projects.  One of these seminars are what we will be attending on Saturday.

A dear friend of mine, Danica, accused me of being so blue lately.  Meaning my blog posts haven't been light hearted and funny.  I agree. I have been dealing with some shit, I want perfection for my kids. And Danica isn't shallow by any means!  I know she just turns to my blog for humor to get her through the day.
:
Here is a joke just for Danica: What's the difference between a heterosexual woman and a bisexual woman?

4 drinks.

Mother's Day 2010

Since I am a mommy blogger I am obligated to write something on Mother's Day.

I celebrated on Friday by going wine-tasting with my N.E.O. Mom friends in Napa. That was awesome!

Saturday my 4 year old daughter and 5 year old son had dance recitals.  That was awesome!

Today, Mother's Day, not so awesome.

My husband has been oncall all weekend, I have barely seen him. My kids were beastly today and it was pouring rain, trapping us inside. I could have gone to the gym but the time I got my act together the daycare was closed.  They closed early for Mother's Day.

I dragged everyone to the grocery store, during the brief time Erik was home, so we could have some together time and get out of the house. A husband is almost as bad at the grocery store as 3 kids.

I planned to make an amazing dinner, because I love to cook.  But Erik got called back to the hospital, so I cancelled it.

I let the kids play in the mud once it stopped raining, bathed them and put them to bed.  Bekah was inconsolable, crying for her father. I ran out of patience. Now I feel like shit for yelling at her and want to wake her up and apologize.

But this Mother's Day is still marginally better than the Mother's Day we took the kids to Hooters for dinner.

Happy Mother's Day.

3 Days in the Hospital

Well if you are a regular reader you would know that last weekend I wrote about having a tough time with my illustrious colon. I was bemoaning the misfortune of having feeling like hell and having a disease that nobody wants to talk about, especially me!

The final chapter on last weekend was that I decided to continue on the steroids my gastroenterologist had prescribed me, and things will be looking up soon. That was last Sunday, by Tuesday I could barely get out of bed. I was in pain and had lost more blood than I was comfortable with. I personally called my gastroenterologist, and when I have time I will be shopping for a new one. All this time I had been in remission or had mild flare-ups but now that I was really sick, he was not helpful. He agreed that a trip to the E.R. might not be out of the question, but warned me I might lose my colon. I am not sure how he could tell that over the phone but it certainly didn't quell my anxiety.

I called my sitter Saint Sarah to come in early to get the kids dressed and to school and I insisted on showering. Erik drove me to the hospital and I won't lie I went straight to a bed instead of the waiting room and I was grateful for that perk. Erik gave the staff a quick update, kissed me and went to check on his patients. It's so embarassing talking about my symptoms that all 3 people were leaning towards me to hear what I had to say. I am not a quiet person, most people in my family don't own indoor voices. I just didn't want everyone to hear. And then I started to cry and then they took my blood pressure. 203/122! That spoke louder than words. I was in a lot of pain. The E.R. doctor was so nice and ordered some Ativan, "To step this crying down. ". He didn't say it in a rude way, it was helpful. I can't talk if I am crying and I couldn't stop crying because I was anxious, and the anxiety and pain was making my blood pressure go through the roof.

I was there less than an hour, and they decided who was taking over and that I was spending the night, and was scheduled a sigmoidoscopy for the next morning. Moms aren't supposed to go into the hospital.

San Ramon is a small town and Auntie M had seen Erik driving me to the hospital that morning so she called me on my cell and asked what's up. It was perfect because I could immediately begin to arrange child-care, and school transportation, and meals. When I got off the phone the nurse joked that I had been spotted by the paparazzi.

I was quickly whisked upstairs into a room and Auntie M came shortly after bearing trashy mags, a smile and a promise to keep the kids in line. After she left 2 nurses came back and started tossing stuff onto my bed and said we are moving you. "Why?", "Aren't you Dr. Gracer's wife?", "Yes". "Well we have a bigger room with a view for you.". "Oh that's really nice but that's not necessary I just need a toilet and a bed and a tv.". But they wheeled my groggy self to a bigger room, it was sweet but the view was wasted, because I immediately passed out.

They woke me for my clear liquid diet lunch and dinner and I ate it out of self-defense. Jello and popsicles should never be an entree. I was still in pain and the steroids make me weepy. It's embarrassing because my husband has to work there and they are going to think his wife is a crybaby. Thankfully my night shift nurse was a ray of sunshine. Super attentive without nagging or being clingy. I am partial to people who work the graveyard shift ,because I did that in an emergency psychiatric hospital, it takes a different kind of person.

The next morning was the sigmoidoscopy and they wheeled me down to that unit. I overheard my friend's voice so I called him over. One of our closest friends is a gastroenterologist and he is usually the one who would be doing this to a patient. I don't mind getting drunk and having a guy friend see me naked in a hot tub but a sigmoidoscopy is where I draw the line. He laughed and said he understood.

Now it was time for the procedure and they had me turn on my side. I warned them that I metabolize medications very quickly and have a habit of waking up during times I was supposed to be sedated. The nurse said, "OK ," Gave me the shot in my I.V. and then turned around to do paperwork. I bored holes in her back with my eyes. She turned around, and I smiled, she said, "Just give it a few more seconds.". I was feeling rainbows and unicorns but I was still awake, and there was no way in hell they were going to stick a garden hose up my ass while I was conscious. She turned around again to meet my buggy eyes and then turned to the physician, "Can I give her more?", "What!?". He was a little surprised to see my unblinking stare, but he must have said yes because that's the last I remember.

After the procedure there was a huge chunk of time that is not very coherent. I know that I was told some stuff, but then I had to ask over and over again because my short-term memory was a mess. After many people repeating to me many times I finally understood that I was grateful to not have an infection or polyps, and though they did take a biopsy they didn't think it was cancerous. But it did look like my colitis had spread significantly. I was weepy and tired and wanted my kids. My husband was tired too and very stressed out and everyone was just trying to hold it together.

My monkeys did come to visit and ate my popsicle, which was my entree, and some licorice the nurses gave them. They made a sticky mess and crawled all over me and asked lots of questions. And I was sad to see their smily faces go. The rest of that night I was still uncomfortable but I got another night shift nurse who was a rock star. All night long she kept trying to get me to lower my blood pressure. At one point I was on a pain med, benadryl and ativan and it was still 188/103. I was just laying there doing nothing! Finally she looked at me and said, "Is it me? Do I stress you out?". I cracked up and said, "You are the least of me worries!". She then said, "Well maybe I am just too hot.". I suggested she wipe off her sexy lip gloss and we can try again later. I believe bantering and a sense of humor is something that should be taught in nursing and medical school. This woman was so nice she stopped by in the afternoon to check on me on her OWN time.

When the doctor came by to visit me the next morning I told him the truth about how I was feeling and all it got me was another night in the hospital!!! What?! I was feeling better than on Tuesday so I thought for sure they would let me go. But he made a good point, "You are going to go home and start chasing your kids and end up back here on I.V. again. I need to get in as many steroids in I.V. form inside of you before you go back home.". He's right but this is just not practical. More crying. And Erik was supposed to be on-call that night at the hospital I am a patient at. I had to pull out the big guns and asked my mom to come please spend the night at my house.

By now my kids were showing by their behavior the stress of not having mommy at home. They weren't being very nice to their Nana and Grandma Wheeze and Mike was crying at school. I wanted to curl into a ball and cry. The only upside was that my MIL brought me some cute little scarecrow figurines to decorate for the holidays and my mom brought me some decent toiletries and panties (instead of the thong panties Erik brought me). And I was switched to a full liquid diet instead of clear liquid. Pureed soup tasted like a gourmet meal at this point.

Erik came by later with my laptop so I could order groceries online to be delivered, that made me feel a little more in control of my life. I told him to come back after tucking his patients into bed so he could give me a kiss. I tried to wait getting my pain meds until after he left but I couldn't wait. I have a fuzzy memory of somebody kissing me goodnight, I hope it was Erik and not the janitor.

Another Florence Nightingale got me through the night and in the morning I had one foot out the door. I told the doctor I was fabulous and was told to take it easy this weekend and eat a low-residue diet. Saint Sarah had to pick up the kids from school first and then I told her to just wait out for me out front so she wouldn't have to drag all 3 through the hospital. Well you know how hospitals insist on wheeling you out in a wheel chair? So here I am sitting waiting for a wheel chair and I can hear my kids over my cell screaming for mommy. Finally I flag down a nurse and tell her my ride is here. She asks if I can walk and I say hell yeah I can walk. We pass my volunteer in the hallway on the way to the elevator. A little old lady volunteer who practically needs the wheelchair as a walker. We told her it was ok, I can walk to my car, and the nurse and I laughed that maybe her volunteer duties should be stapling or giving out kleenexes instead of wheeling large adults around.

My kids were out of their little minds when they saw me. Mike and Bekah both unbuckled their seatbelts and lunged at me and Jake strained against his carseat and whined. I gave them lots of hugs and kisses and tried to get my bag from the nurse. She just stood there and said, "They are so happy to see you, oh it's so sad, they missed you. ". I thought she was going to cry. Oh jeez. So I just got in the van and buckled them back in and gave them hugs and kisses and then got my bag from the nurse and told her it was ok.

Wow coming home was not peaceful. The kids were hungry, whining and spinning out of control. The grocery guy showed up at the same time, to deliver the groceries and so did Erik with our new bookkeeper. It was total fucking chaos. I did not want to meet our new bookkeeper while dressed in pajamas and bruises from I.V.s on my arms and my kids in tears. She must think her new boss has the most dysfunctional family ever. The timing couldn't be worse.

We got the very nice grocery guy out the door even though I did want to talk to him about his daughter's wedding, she's a marine. I helped Erik seperate some personal and business files for our new bookeeper which she means she had to go in our home office in our messy bedroom. Then Saint Sarah and I tackled feeding the kids, cleaning the kitchen and putting the groceries away. I put Jake down for a nap and then sent Sarah to Target to pick up my meds while I did some more de-cluttering. But the hospital called the meds into Walgreen's instead of Target, sigh. So Sarah came back with the kids and made brownies with them and I went back to Target to straighten it out.

By this time my knees and ankles were starting to swell and I was really tired and irritable. But when I got home my dear friend Barb was here with her awesome monkey and everything was calm and quiet. Auntie M had come to pick up Bekah for some special girly time and Jake was napping. I was so grateful I teared up. This is more crying I have done in years, people who know me know I am not a crier. Another dear friend Danica brought dinner and we put the kids down for an early bed without a squawk.

This morning Erik came to the room and said, "Honey can you get up?", at first I was annoyed, thinking he should cut me some slack, but then he said, "It's 10:30a.m.". I was shocked I thought it was like 7 in the morning. I was so tired. I sent Erik back to bed and I got up to hang with the monkeys. I was feeling so much better and it's nice to be in my home. But I can really see the affect me being gone had on my young kids. When their Nana showed up today, my mother-in-law, the kids clung to me and were rude to her. Bekah ran into another room, Mike's rudeness was too much to ignore and he ended up on a time-out. I reassured them that Nana was just there to go to a birthday party with their Daddy and that I will be home the whole time. I am not going anywhere. Poor babies.

I just want to give a shout-out to all my friends and family that picked up the slack this week. Thank you for the orchid and the card, the magazines, tons of food, taking care of my kids and my husband, my laundry and just being here to listen. I really,really appreciate it and could not have done it without you.
Love,
Charlotte

Disease Envy** (read disclaimer first)

I have disease envy. I have ulcerative colitis. I was diagnosed when I was 21 years old and have lived most of the time in remission. I take my meds and get a colonoscopy every 2 years and try not to get pregnant. But right now I am having the worst flare-up I have ever had and I am angry and ashamed.





Nobody wants to talk about your colon, it's gross. I don't want to talk about it because it's embarrassing. It's not a glamorous disease. We don't get to wear pink ribbons, we don't have 3 day walks with our friends, we don't get to stay in tents and hear moving speeches. You want to see what our ribbon looks like?

Brown and Red?!! The color of shit and blood? Excuse the pun, but who was the asshole that designed this ribbon?! Thanks a lot! I will be sure to order a t-shirt right away! You fucking moron!!

Here's a list of famous people with Chron's or Colitis. A couple of Presidents and some people I have never heard of, I'd rather have Christina Applegate.

July 30th I had endometrial ablation done and was prescribed some narcotics for the pain. Well if you have ever been on narcotics you know they stop up your bowels a little bit. So already I wasn't feeling too hot. Then I get this strange lump in my armpit which completely freaked me out!! Turns out to be an infected armpit hair follicle and my husband prescribes me an antibiotic to take. Well whenever anyone takes an antibiotic they put themselves at risk for c diff. If you have a fragile colon to begin with it's a huge risk. I immediately felt the effects.

I upped my meds and kept quiet, and it got worse. I went to San Diego for a week's vacation and to attend my brother's wedding. I let my husband know I was having some problems but left out most of the gory details. I started taking lots of Immodium and put on a happy face. As soon as we got home I told Erik the truth. He was not happy with me at all!! He explained to me that taking Immodium for that extended amount of time when you have ulcerative colitis can lead to toxic megacolon. Guess what the cure for toxic megacolon is? Removing your colon!

I immediately started to cry. Which means Erik stopped being mad at me because I never cry. I am so stupid, and so lucky I didn't injure myself to that extent. I made an appointment with my gastroenterologist who also read me the riot act. He changed my prescription and tested me again for c diff, so far it's negative but I am still awaiting the results from the second test. Erik and I just changed our insurance to a $2500. deductible, so the new medicine cost us $486 for a month's supply!!

Then I still didn't get better. So I finally agreed to go on a steroid called prednisone. Hit that link, read the side effects and you can see why I resisted. I get to take this for a month and then go back and see my doctor. But I am still hurting bad ,and it's a beautiful weekend and I should be taking my kids to the park, swimming, or to the gym to play with their friends. But I am honestly scared to leave the house.

I know I will get better soon, I can feel the steroid shutting down my colon like an INS raid on a factory in the Central Valley. I just want to feel better sooner than soon if you know what I mean, this has gone on long enough.

So to my local readers and friends: if you don't see me at the gym for awhile it's because I don't have the energy to work-out and the prednisone makes my legs hurt, if you see me on the computer even MORE than usual it's because I am not ready to leave the house for too long, and please don't hug me or look all sad when you see me because that will annoy the hell out of me. I will be fine, I just wish I could be more glamorous.

** 1) If you have lost family members to cancer do not read this.

2) If you get grossed out easily don't read this.

3) If you are going to feel sorry for me, don't read this.

4) If you are going to give me advice, don't read this.



I have lost family to cancer too, and it's not pretty, but this is about me and my feelings and venting. It's not about minimizing other's suffering. I have ulcerative colitis and it's gross, so don't read this while eating. My life is perfect in all other ways so don't feel sorry for me. Please, it bugs me because there are others on this planet who are way worse off. I live with a doctor, he's my husband, not my doctor, but I can still get advice if I need it. If you are going to forge ahead, thank you for listening.

Endometrial Ablation

That's what I had done yesterday, Friday July 31st. The brand name for it is called Novasure. Go to the website and you can read glowing testimonials from women who no longer have periods. And I am going to be one of them.

Most of my readers are women so I am just going to forge ahead here with the gory details. My periods were bad since the first one at age 12. So eventually I went on the pill and it controlled it nicely and that was that. Then 2 months before my wedding I go off the pill in anticipation of getting pregnant and I had some cramping but nothing too crazy.

Well I got pregnant on my honeymoon, and then again when Mike was 9 months old and then I got pregnant again when Bekah was about 7 months old. Basically for 3 years I was pregnant or nursing and did not have a period at all. Once I weaned Jake my monthly visitor came back riding a Harley, fully armed, and with a bitchy attitude.

My very first period came on a weekend to Las Vegas (I told you she was a bitch), and I was hit with a menstrual cramp so hard that I couldn't walk. I stopped in the middle of the casino floor and pretended to be searching through my purse for lipgloss. For anyone who has been in labor we are talking 5-6 cm. dilation with no epidural, that's how bad it hurt. I prayed that was just because it was my first cycle in 3 years.

Nope a few months later it continued and one Saturday morning while I was doubled over with cramps and irrationally yelling at my husband, he shot back, "You don't have to live like this and I don't want to live like this. You need to go see your OB. I wish I had an excuse to be a complete pyscho once a month.". He was forgiven for the last remark because he took the kids to the park so I could nap.

So I saw my nurse practioner who agreed that I am getting too old to go back on the pill and with a family history of strokes, that it's generally not a great idea. But before we went for the Novasure we decided to try large doses of naproxen (Aleve) 2 days before my period starts and continue it for 3 more days. And she prescribed some narcotics as well.

Genius! This method actually worked for a couple of months and I didn't even need the Darvocet. But then my cycle started to become irregular so I wasn't able to take the naproxen 2 days beforehand because I didn't know when it was going to start. Then the vomiting started. Then my cycle started to last 8-10 days leaving not too many good days out of the month to enjoy my life. I was ruining sheets and panties and losing sleep due to the painful cramping. I am sure you can figure out what a lovely mood this left me in and how parenting 3 small kids was a complete joy when you feel like Hell.

A recent blood test came back borderline anemic, and that made total sense, I was sooo tired. Finally I got an appointment with my busy OB and he cut me off in mid-sentence, "You really don't have to sell me on this, you are the perfect candidate for this procedure. You have 3 healthy kids, you are almost 40 years old, your body is healthy and your husband has had a vasectomy. Are you busy this Friday?". I was completely ecstatic!! That means for my upcoming 20 year high school reunion and my brother's wedding in September I would not be having a period!! Sign me up!

On my way home from that consultation appointment last Tuesday I was reminded of a friend whose mother had a full hysterectomy and asked her surgeon for her uterus. She took it home in a jar and I guess had a nice ceremony and buried it. I dug deep down into my heart but, I just could not dredge up the same feelings of sentiment towards my uterus.

I don't view this as a death, it's more like a divorce. We had an active 26 year relationship where she cradled 3 gorgeous babies for me. But then she turned into an unpredictable, belligerent hag and it was better for everyone to go our separate ways.

Our Trip to Santa Cruz

My mom rented herself a beautiful studio for a whole week at the Seascape Resort in Aptos, California. It was to be a week alone but she graciously invited me and Auntie M. and all of our offspring to spend a night with her. We shattered her peace into a million pieces, but we had a great time!

As soon as we got into the room Bekah, Kaitlyn and Haley all piled onto my mom's cozy bed.

Merrill and I enjoyed a beer and the view with my mom and then we suited everyone up and hit the beach. It has private access and they will cart your sandy ass back up the hill in huge golf carts driven by cute guys. There is my skinny Mike.

Kaitlyn just turned 11 years old. Can we say heartbreaker?

This is my future heartbreaker Bekah Boo.

I have one lean son and one tank. Jake continued to throw sand in the air even though it continued to get in his eyes. He's a little slow on the uptake sometimes. That's the beautiful resort on the hill in the background.

Remember that beer we drank? They don't have public restrooms on this beach.

After we hitched a ride back up to the resort we had another drink poolside. Their pool was warm and very kid friendly. We washed up and went to a pizza parlor for dinner that was within walking distance. After dinner some other cute guys from the resort built us a bonfire on the beach and brought us makings for smores. Those white boxes pictured below hold all the ingredients and we used those sticks to do the roasting.

Aforementioned cute guy took a family picture of us. From left to right back row first, Kaitlyn, my mother Louise (Grandma Wheeze), Auntie M, me Charlotte holding Jake, front row Bekah, Haley and Mike.

Mix melted marshmallow and add sand and you have cement.

Oh no! Oscar Garfield Super Flying Cat of the World the Second got melted marshmallow on him. I cleaned him with a wipe and everyone was happy.

Mike and the sunset.

Bekah watching the sunset with Auntie M

I can see the woman she will grow into in this picture.

Cuddling with Kaitlyn.

In the foreground was an air mattress shared by me and Auntie M. In the main bed my mom and Kaitlyn slept. Out of sight on the other side of the bed was another air mattress with Haley and Bekah. We put Mike by himself on some couch cushions because he was too wiggly to share a bed with. And Jake was in the portable crib. We packed that room to the ceiling and the amount of sand in that room could have been used to build a sand castle.

We had a lovely breakfast in my mom's room of bagels, fruit, donuts and coffee. Auntie M and the girls headed back to San Ramon for a swim meet and we headed to a park. After the park we had an awesome lunch where Bekah was so awful I had to yank her out of her seat and take her outside to talk. She was screaming in a very small restaurant because Mike got his lemonade before she did. People were covering their ears and staring at me. I was so embarassed. She pulled it together for our lunch but she was still fairly whiny when we took them to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk.

Here is Bekah's, "No I don't want ice cream!", face. Obviously she was saying no for the sake of saying no. Who the hell says no to ice cream?! Criminally insane 3 year olds do.

This is my favorite picture from our trip. That's my mom and Mike on the Caveland Adventure Train. My mom spoiled my kids like crazy! Video games, she bought tickets for all the rides, cotton candy, ice cream, they were in Heaven! And my mom and I took turns watching the kids while we went on the Giant Dipper. She let me go first and it is still the best roller coaster in the Universe. My butt actually caught some air and my teeth rattled!

The kids passed out on the way home, even Michael. This is turning out to be a fantastic summer.

Santa Cruz on Dwellable