Once upon a time, in my deepest fantasies, well before I met the Mad Scientist, I dreamed of having a a house big enough to entertain. I dreamed of Saturday nights with lots of friends over, the kids running around having fun and the adults sitting around talking and playing games. I dreamed of the simple things; the moments that I remember fondly from my own childhood. Of course, at the time, I never thought I'd marry or have kids, so those fantasies were just fantasies.
Then I met the Mad Scientist and fell in love! We bought a house that was too small to entertain, but those moments were waiting for me right around the corner. I couldn't believe how close I was to living out my fantasy life!
When I was pregnant with TRex, my fantasies grew and I knew life would be perfect. (Of course, I didn't really expect perfection, but you know what I mean.) Life was falling into place in a way that far exceeded my imagination.
All of that came crashing down when the Dancing Queen was diagnosed. At first, we were simply too busy to and too scared of germs to entertain (and our house was still too small). We couldn't go out in public much--there was too much equipment, we needed to maintain our routine for health, and germs were too, too scary. So even when we were invited places, it was not feasible to go. And even if we planned to go, many times we'd end up canceling at the last minute due to illness. I've lost count of the number of fun outings we had to cancel literally as we walked out the door.
Now that it is slightly easier and we have a house big enough to entertain, the option is gone. We're never invited places and we have no one to invite to our house (and frankly, the energy to clean for guests, let alone cook, is way beyond our capabilities these days). Besides, we still have the problem that routine is very important for health (maybe even more so these days). Between work, school, doctors' appointments, and the kids' activities , we don't have the time travel to see friends we used to have and cannot hang out to make new friends.
Maybe this would be our life even without a sick child. Maybe we'd still stick at home most of the time with just the four of us. But I doubt it.
I don't blame the Dancing Queen. I know she would be out and about more than the rest of us if she could. That is part of the problem. She doesn't rest when she is having fun, so if we do go out, she needs at least a day to recover. That is not fair.
I hate that we can't have the life that I had dreamed about. I hate that people are uncomfortable around us or find it easier to ignore us because including us is too hard. I hate that I can't let the Dancing Queen stay up much past her 7:00 bedtime. I hate that I don't have the energy or time to invite people into our home so that I can show them we are normal and so that my children can have fun with others. But most of all, I hate that its things like friendship, camaraderie, play dates, and memories never made that are lost to my children.
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rants. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Monday, July 30, 2012
Really? REALLY?!?
We closed the sale on our forever home on Thursday, July 19th, after 3 grueling hours in which they slaughtered my name in every way possible. We didn't get possession that day because the sellers needed more time (they had a lot, A LOT of junk in the house). We gave them until the 29th at 5:00pm.
But, at first, we were told we'd have the house on the 20th. Then we were told it would be later, but they weren't sure when. Then we were told the 29th. All the while, we couldn't make plans to move ourselves.
Finally, last Thursday, the 26th, we were told we'd have the house on Saturday, the 28th. We planned our lives around this. We told the kids when we were getting the keys.
Yet, on the morning on the 28th, the seller called (the seller we were told has been in Hong Kong all summer!). He told us he'd not be out of the house until the 29th, but gave us no time. So, we drove by to ask WHEN. We were told 5:00pm on Sunday. (And I noticed they hadn't cut the grass once in the 10 days after closing, despite the days and days of rain.)
At 11:00 am Sunday morning, the seller call me again and said 5:00 was not going to happen. That he needed another week. Another week! This upcoming weekend is the ONLY weekend we have left to move this summer. He couldn't have another week! If he did, the Mad Scientist and I would both have to take time off of work to move. We can't afford that!!! And besides, the escrow only lasted until Sunday night at 5:00pm!!!! I was furious and scared and sad and furious!!
I called my realtor. I was told my only option was to call a lawyer. Really????
I spent the next several hours researching my choices, calculating damages, and drafting eviction papers. I was prepared to go to the house at 5:00pm, the first set of eviction papers in hand to serve him. But, at 2:00pm, as TRex and I entered the grocery store, my realtor called, asking if I'd be willing to do a final deal, whereby the sellers got an additional 2 days. I said okay as long as I got $175 for each day past the escrow. (The utilities were already in our name!!!!)
So, we made deal between the parking lot and TRex's bathroom break after aisle 5.
Then, as I was literally paying for my groceries, the seller called me again, asking if we'd let him give us the keys at 9:00pm that night. He had called all of his friends and begged them to help him. I said yes!
During dinner, he called again, saying his friends had come he would be done by 9:30pm. He also asked if he could leave the pool table in the basement. (Score one for MS! He wanted that table.)
It seemed as if the house was finally going to be ours 10:00pm Sunday night.
Then, at 9:26pm, the seller called again. He had run out of space in his second storage unit and nothing was open any longer for him to rent. He wasn't going to be out Sunday night.
Luckily, MS was on the phone with him. I was screaming in the background. Yelling that he had better be out by 5:00pm Tuesday night with the money he owes us! But, I could tell from the Mad Scientist's end of the conversation that he had NO INTENTION of finishing. He didn't want to take a day off of work. BUT I WAS GOING TO HAVE TO TAKE TIME OFF OF WORK?!?
Finally, MS handed me the phone. I heard the seller say he needed to rent another storage unit; that he needed another truck. I didn't care. I told him he had until 5:00pm Tuesday to get out with $350 to cover my damages or I would start the eviction process and file a lawsuit for damages (I had calculated at least $3200 in damages if he still wasn't out by next Sunday.) I pulled the lawyer card (which I try never to do). He said he couldn't miss work. I told him I COULDN'T MISS WORK. I told him that I have a house that needs to be empties. That he was messing with my children because they keep thinking their getting a new house and then they don't. I went all crazy on him. But, I left the conversation with the impression that he really didn't care about us and had no intention to pay the money he owes and wasn't going to leave the house by 5:00pm Tuesday.
I sent a long email to my realtor, asking her to impose on the seller's agent how serious I was and that I would feel cheated by everyone involved if the agreement causes me to lose two days in which I could have started the eviction process.
This morning, my realtor took care of business. She and the seller's realtor worked it out to make sure the deal we made on Sunday would go through. I wasn't believing anyone any more, so I spent a lot of time doing legal research, talking to colleagues, and formulating a plan. This seller is a lawyer himself!
I was told not to speak with the seller; that the agents would handle it. I was grateful, ready to be done with it.
Then, about 7:45pm, as MS and I were plating our dinner, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, so I didn't pick up. Then MS's phone rang from the same number. It went to voicemail. Sure 'nough. It was the seller. He was going to be out by 9:00pm. Could we come pick up the keys? And we thought "Again! Really? REALLY!?!"
In total, he called us 5 times before we called him back and said MS would be there at 9:30pm to get the keys.
I started writing this post about 45 minutes ago, when MS left the "old" house to get the keys to our forever. I asked my brother-in-law, the Car Guy, to go with him so I could feel safer. And now that the Car Guy lives very close (as of last week), he could do it for me.
Since then, MS has called me. The seller is still packing up the last of the junk and MS is making sure to dot all of the I's and cross all of the T's for his lawyer wife. The sellers are leaving many things more than we planned: a trampoline, a backyard kid's play set, benches. We want to be sure we're not accused of stealing the items.
We still need to get our money for his holding over. We need him to sign the release of escrow funds.
But even after all of that done, after I know my sweet husband is safe and that I have the keys to forever, I don't know if I'll believe it's all true. So much has happened. We've lost this house and got it back again over and over and over. Will life ever feel normal again?
But, at first, we were told we'd have the house on the 20th. Then we were told it would be later, but they weren't sure when. Then we were told the 29th. All the while, we couldn't make plans to move ourselves.
Finally, last Thursday, the 26th, we were told we'd have the house on Saturday, the 28th. We planned our lives around this. We told the kids when we were getting the keys.
Yet, on the morning on the 28th, the seller called (the seller we were told has been in Hong Kong all summer!). He told us he'd not be out of the house until the 29th, but gave us no time. So, we drove by to ask WHEN. We were told 5:00pm on Sunday. (And I noticed they hadn't cut the grass once in the 10 days after closing, despite the days and days of rain.)
At 11:00 am Sunday morning, the seller call me again and said 5:00 was not going to happen. That he needed another week. Another week! This upcoming weekend is the ONLY weekend we have left to move this summer. He couldn't have another week! If he did, the Mad Scientist and I would both have to take time off of work to move. We can't afford that!!! And besides, the escrow only lasted until Sunday night at 5:00pm!!!! I was furious and scared and sad and furious!!
I called my realtor. I was told my only option was to call a lawyer. Really????
I spent the next several hours researching my choices, calculating damages, and drafting eviction papers. I was prepared to go to the house at 5:00pm, the first set of eviction papers in hand to serve him. But, at 2:00pm, as TRex and I entered the grocery store, my realtor called, asking if I'd be willing to do a final deal, whereby the sellers got an additional 2 days. I said okay as long as I got $175 for each day past the escrow. (The utilities were already in our name!!!!)
So, we made deal between the parking lot and TRex's bathroom break after aisle 5.
Then, as I was literally paying for my groceries, the seller called me again, asking if we'd let him give us the keys at 9:00pm that night. He had called all of his friends and begged them to help him. I said yes!
During dinner, he called again, saying his friends had come he would be done by 9:30pm. He also asked if he could leave the pool table in the basement. (Score one for MS! He wanted that table.)
It seemed as if the house was finally going to be ours 10:00pm Sunday night.
Then, at 9:26pm, the seller called again. He had run out of space in his second storage unit and nothing was open any longer for him to rent. He wasn't going to be out Sunday night.
Luckily, MS was on the phone with him. I was screaming in the background. Yelling that he had better be out by 5:00pm Tuesday night with the money he owes us! But, I could tell from the Mad Scientist's end of the conversation that he had NO INTENTION of finishing. He didn't want to take a day off of work. BUT I WAS GOING TO HAVE TO TAKE TIME OFF OF WORK?!?
Finally, MS handed me the phone. I heard the seller say he needed to rent another storage unit; that he needed another truck. I didn't care. I told him he had until 5:00pm Tuesday to get out with $350 to cover my damages or I would start the eviction process and file a lawsuit for damages (I had calculated at least $3200 in damages if he still wasn't out by next Sunday.) I pulled the lawyer card (which I try never to do). He said he couldn't miss work. I told him I COULDN'T MISS WORK. I told him that I have a house that needs to be empties. That he was messing with my children because they keep thinking their getting a new house and then they don't. I went all crazy on him. But, I left the conversation with the impression that he really didn't care about us and had no intention to pay the money he owes and wasn't going to leave the house by 5:00pm Tuesday.
I sent a long email to my realtor, asking her to impose on the seller's agent how serious I was and that I would feel cheated by everyone involved if the agreement causes me to lose two days in which I could have started the eviction process.
This morning, my realtor took care of business. She and the seller's realtor worked it out to make sure the deal we made on Sunday would go through. I wasn't believing anyone any more, so I spent a lot of time doing legal research, talking to colleagues, and formulating a plan. This seller is a lawyer himself!
I was told not to speak with the seller; that the agents would handle it. I was grateful, ready to be done with it.
Then, about 7:45pm, as MS and I were plating our dinner, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, so I didn't pick up. Then MS's phone rang from the same number. It went to voicemail. Sure 'nough. It was the seller. He was going to be out by 9:00pm. Could we come pick up the keys? And we thought "Again! Really? REALLY!?!"
In total, he called us 5 times before we called him back and said MS would be there at 9:30pm to get the keys.
I started writing this post about 45 minutes ago, when MS left the "old" house to get the keys to our forever. I asked my brother-in-law, the Car Guy, to go with him so I could feel safer. And now that the Car Guy lives very close (as of last week), he could do it for me.
Since then, MS has called me. The seller is still packing up the last of the junk and MS is making sure to dot all of the I's and cross all of the T's for his lawyer wife. The sellers are leaving many things more than we planned: a trampoline, a backyard kid's play set, benches. We want to be sure we're not accused of stealing the items.
We still need to get our money for his holding over. We need him to sign the release of escrow funds.
But even after all of that done, after I know my sweet husband is safe and that I have the keys to forever, I don't know if I'll believe it's all true. So much has happened. We've lost this house and got it back again over and over and over. Will life ever feel normal again?
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Slumber Parties & Parks
Last night, the Mad Scientist and Papa drove to New York to help the Editor and Car Guy pack up their house for good and move to Michigan. That left Ma and I with all four kids. So, we had an experiment. The first of what we hope will be many, many slumber parties with all four kids. The night was filled with pizza, popcorn, movies, and lots of fun. The kids did really well. When the last movie ended and lights were out, they all fell asleep without trouble.
This morning, they played together, ate well, and just had fun. It was so wonderful to watch. My heart swelled with love for all of them and how good they are with each other (even if there was some bickering). Little Car Guy, who should really be called the Screen Bandit, was very good about helping the younger kids. And the younger kids look up to him with so much awe and love. My heart was melting, watching it all.
Before it got oppressive outside, we headed to the park. After half an hour/forty-five minutes, Ma was pushing DQ in the swing and the boys were climbing climby things, so I had a couple of minutes to sit and watch some more. I was in my glory and decided to check my email. The one I was waiting for was there: "Yay! They will vacate on July 29." Our realtor was letting me know that our new house will be completely ours on July 29th! I was ecstatic. My world was complete--my sister and her family are moving close to us so our kids can become best friends, the kids were getting along, and our new house was becoming real! I, of course, called the Mad Scientist to share.
As I talked with him, reveling in the news that we will be moving the first weekend of August, I looked at Ma & DQ. They had stopped swinging and were heading to the shade. I hung up with MS and asked what was going on. Ma brought DQ to me. She had a nose bleed, was complaining of stomach pain, and was obviously in distress. She just wanted me to hold her and I did. Her heart was beating so hard. I tried to round up the boys, but they didn't want to leave. I was hanging on by a thread. DQ had only been swinging. She wasn't running! She had been regularly drinking! SHE WAS JUST SWINGING! My emotions were a roller coaster as my baby was turning limp in my arms.
Ma rounded the boys up and explained why we had to leave. The boys started joking that DQ was dieing. And I broke. I knew she wasn't dieing, but hearing out loud the fear that is always lurking in the far reaches of my mind took me over the edge. I sobbed. I tried not to let the boys see me and DQ was so out of it she didn't really know I was doing anything, but I couldn't hold back the tears. I took DQ in my arms, racing toward the car as Ma continued to talk with the boys, tears streaming down my face.
We got to a picnic table next to the car and sat. DQ with her head on my shoulder and tears flowing like a faucet by then. Luckily, by the time the boys got to us, I had calmed down. I got DQ in the car and we decided to go to one of DQ's favorites--Olive Garden--the one restaurant with gluten free food (for me), vegatarian fair (for Screen Bandit and Chef), and stuff everybody likes. Except DQ didn't want to go. She wanted to go home. My baby was passing up basgetti!
Ma took the boys out to eat and I brought DQ in. She just wanted to sleep, but only after trying to vomit. She is now napping, but not well. She cries out in pain every couple of minutes. I'm sure it was the heat, but it was only about 80. And she was just swinging.
Swinging.
I can't stop thinking that she was just swinging.
I hate this. I hate that my daughter can be so happy, doing the thing she loves most in the world one second, and a puddle in my arms the next. I hate that she continues to have nosebleeds for no apparent reason. I hate that she has so little reserves. I hate that life is so unfair to her. I hate that everyone's day gets turned upside down because DQ's body can't handle life. I hate that I can be riding a huge high and that I let DQ's normal life take me down so low. I want to be able to rejoice in the happy that we have and not let the sad parts get me down, but I don't know how. I want my baby to have one day where she can play with the kids and not worry that she could die if we let her play with the kids.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
I Hate Waiting!
I am so exhausted. I don't mean tired. I mean I am exhausted to the core. I have nothing left. Waiting is killing me.
It has only been a week since the Dancing Queen's cardiologist confirmed one of my worst fears. We are still waiting to hear the plan; to learn when DQ will have her seventh heart catheterization. I'm no good at waiting. And not knowing is so hard on me.
On top of that, I had to sit and wait in the hospital surgical suite for DQ today as she underwent a sedated brain scan hearing test. Waiting to hear how much damage has been done to her ears from multiple explosive and horrible ear infections. Waiting to hear whether we'll need to add further procedures or devices. I hate waiting.
DQ was so good, but fairly miserable after from having an empty stomach and being under anesthesia for over an hour. (Not to mention the vomiting/dry heaving she did from 4am through just before going into the OR because of how scared she was.) For the rest of the day, she wouldn't allow me to put her down for even a minute. As I held her, all I could think was why did she have to suffer through so much! The emotional roller coaster of it all takes a huge toll.
Tomorrow, I have to sit with the Dancing Queen in the same office I sat almost 2 years ago. I get to wait for the same doctor who gave me no hope 2 years ago; wait thinking that I have to ask him the same exact questions I did 2 years ago. Even worse though, I have to wait in that office, talk to that doctor, with so much more knowledge. And I have to list for him how often DQ gets sick. I need to convince him that something more needs to be done. That his decision to not help her immune system is only damaging her more and causing her heart and lungs to be overworked. Somehow, in my weak mental state, I have to stay sane in this situation. I have to keep my composure and not scream at him after I know he will make us wait for at least an hour (he is always late). I can't cry in his office. If I do, he won't help my baby because he'll just think I'm an emotion mom. But, frankly, I don't think I can keep myself even-keeled. (I can't even write this post without tears stinging my eyes.)
It has only been a week since the Dancing Queen's cardiologist confirmed one of my worst fears. We are still waiting to hear the plan; to learn when DQ will have her seventh heart catheterization. I'm no good at waiting. And not knowing is so hard on me.
On top of that, I had to sit and wait in the hospital surgical suite for DQ today as she underwent a sedated brain scan hearing test. Waiting to hear how much damage has been done to her ears from multiple explosive and horrible ear infections. Waiting to hear whether we'll need to add further procedures or devices. I hate waiting.
DQ was so good, but fairly miserable after from having an empty stomach and being under anesthesia for over an hour. (Not to mention the vomiting/dry heaving she did from 4am through just before going into the OR because of how scared she was.) For the rest of the day, she wouldn't allow me to put her down for even a minute. As I held her, all I could think was why did she have to suffer through so much! The emotional roller coaster of it all takes a huge toll.
Tomorrow, I have to sit with the Dancing Queen in the same office I sat almost 2 years ago. I get to wait for the same doctor who gave me no hope 2 years ago; wait thinking that I have to ask him the same exact questions I did 2 years ago. Even worse though, I have to wait in that office, talk to that doctor, with so much more knowledge. And I have to list for him how often DQ gets sick. I need to convince him that something more needs to be done. That his decision to not help her immune system is only damaging her more and causing her heart and lungs to be overworked. Somehow, in my weak mental state, I have to stay sane in this situation. I have to keep my composure and not scream at him after I know he will make us wait for at least an hour (he is always late). I can't cry in his office. If I do, he won't help my baby because he'll just think I'm an emotion mom. But, frankly, I don't think I can keep myself even-keeled. (I can't even write this post without tears stinging my eyes.)
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
I Need You to Protect MY Babies
One of the things I fear most as the mom of child with DiGeorge's Syndrome is the unimmunized healthy child. The child whose parents believed a playboy bunny rather than medical science. Or the parents who think it is fine for their child to get major illnesses, not taking into consideration that their child's illness is another child's death.
I don't understand it. Diseases like measles and chicken pox have killed untold numbers of people through the ages. And here we are today, with the means to eradicate these diseases, saving countless lives, and people choose to keep the diseases around! Why?!? Because they had chicken pox as a kid and were fine. That is BS. Pure and simple, self-centered BS! Because some "scientist" published a paper that said vaccines cause autism; a paper that has been criticized, debunked, retracted, and proven to be falsified. Really? What part of fraudulent and debunked do they not understand? What part of the dude has lost his right to practice medicine do these people NOT understand?
Yes, I am angry. Very, very angry. My daughter has been hospitalized numerous times for things you and I would call a bad cold. I would do anything for the MMR or chicken pox vaccine to protect her. But her immunologist has declared it too dangerous because those vaccines are made with live virus. If my baby with her weak immune system had either vaccine, she could easily contract the diseases. And for someone like her, with such a fragile medical condition, those diseases could be deadly. So, no she is not allowed to be vaccinated. Neither is my son because the small amount of virus in his vaccine could infect the Dancing Queen.
I was told not to worry about my kids not being vaccinated because everyone else is vaccinated. But that is a pipe dream based upon sound science and not upon tabloid rumors which, surprisingly, control many parenting decisions. While my daughter's immunologist is sure my kids wouldn't be exposed to chicken pox, measels, mumps, or rubella, he is wrong. Last spring, a child who rode the bus with the Dancing Queen came down with chicken pox. And this week, a child in TRex's school also came down with chicken pox. These children were probably contagious without showing any symptoms for 3 days prior to coming down with the pox. We lucked out last spring because DQ was in the hospital when the child got sick. I guess we'll see next week if TRex was lucky enough to escape the illness. Unfortunately, we will not know if he was lucky until it is too late.
The Dancing Queen is not the only child with immune issues. There are many children with the 22q11 deletion or other congenital abnormalities that cause immune system deficiencies. There are more children who have had cancer and their treatments render them vulnerable. And every child who has had an organ transplant is on anti-rejection meds that weaken their immune system.
Please, have your children vaccinated. Help save lives!
How would you feel if your decision not to vaccinate lead to the unthinkable?
I don't understand it. Diseases like measles and chicken pox have killed untold numbers of people through the ages. And here we are today, with the means to eradicate these diseases, saving countless lives, and people choose to keep the diseases around! Why?!? Because they had chicken pox as a kid and were fine. That is BS. Pure and simple, self-centered BS! Because some "scientist" published a paper that said vaccines cause autism; a paper that has been criticized, debunked, retracted, and proven to be falsified. Really? What part of fraudulent and debunked do they not understand? What part of the dude has lost his right to practice medicine do these people NOT understand?
Yes, I am angry. Very, very angry. My daughter has been hospitalized numerous times for things you and I would call a bad cold. I would do anything for the MMR or chicken pox vaccine to protect her. But her immunologist has declared it too dangerous because those vaccines are made with live virus. If my baby with her weak immune system had either vaccine, she could easily contract the diseases. And for someone like her, with such a fragile medical condition, those diseases could be deadly. So, no she is not allowed to be vaccinated. Neither is my son because the small amount of virus in his vaccine could infect the Dancing Queen.
I was told not to worry about my kids not being vaccinated because everyone else is vaccinated. But that is a pipe dream based upon sound science and not upon tabloid rumors which, surprisingly, control many parenting decisions. While my daughter's immunologist is sure my kids wouldn't be exposed to chicken pox, measels, mumps, or rubella, he is wrong. Last spring, a child who rode the bus with the Dancing Queen came down with chicken pox. And this week, a child in TRex's school also came down with chicken pox. These children were probably contagious without showing any symptoms for 3 days prior to coming down with the pox. We lucked out last spring because DQ was in the hospital when the child got sick. I guess we'll see next week if TRex was lucky enough to escape the illness. Unfortunately, we will not know if he was lucky until it is too late.
The Dancing Queen is not the only child with immune issues. There are many children with the 22q11 deletion or other congenital abnormalities that cause immune system deficiencies. There are more children who have had cancer and their treatments render them vulnerable. And every child who has had an organ transplant is on anti-rejection meds that weaken their immune system.
Please, have your children vaccinated. Help save lives!
How would you feel if your decision not to vaccinate lead to the unthinkable?
Sunday, August 21, 2011
It is exhausting
Yesterday, we celebrated TRex's birthday. As I alluded in my last post, I was very busy all last week with work and preparing for that party. I promise, I will post pictures and show what fun was had. But that will have to wait until later. Today, I'm exhausted.
I'd like to say I'm physically exhausted from my crazy busy week at work, lots of extra time spent on putting the birthday party together, little to no sleep, and the zillion extra obstacles sent our way (like a dead battery when all we wanted to do was get the melting down children home or arriving home find trees on top of houses and people looking around lost--remnants of a huge storm that luckily did little damage to us). I'd like to say that is what has me exhausted. It did. Last night. I couldn't keep my eyes open to eat dinner. I was bone tired, but slept well for the most part.
None of that plays a role in this exhaustion. Today, I'm mentally exhausted. Today, is one of those days I want to roll into a ball in the corner and cry.
Yesterday morning, on the way to TRex's birthday party with Ma, the Dancing Queen vomited in the car. We didn't think much of it because we all thought it was probably excitement for the party. It had been built up huge all summer. And DQ did have a slightly runny nose while we were there, but we were swimming. That happens. And she seemed totally fine otherwise. She ate (that's huge), she played, she had so much fun.
We started to get concerned near bed time, but DQ was fine. We checked her ears. They were fine. She slept fine. But, this morning, DQ had a runny nose. We went to breakfast at our favorite place because our house was empty of food. DQ took her first sip of juice and we were done. I tried to run out of the restaurant with her, but we didn't quite make it. Maybe 10 feet from the door, all of the mucus came up and out over my shoulder, down my back, and a little on her. We ran into the rain, DQ crying and upset.
An hour and a half later, we were home, playing and I went to move DQ's hair from her face. I couldn't. Her ear drum had exploded again. There was blood and gunk streaming down her cheek and into her hair where this morning it had been fine.
The Dancing Queen has an ear infection. Again.
Perhaps this seems tiny to you dear readers, but to us, this is just one more in the a long line of ear infections. DQ saw her ENT not but 6 days ago. The last ear infection from a couple of weeks ago was so bad that it burst a hole in her ear drum and knocked her third set of tubes out. The ENT ordered us to keep her ears healthy until he saw her again in 6 weeks when he would planto put the 4th set of tubes in in less than 2 years. I guess we failed there.
We have lived this same scenario: the vomiting, the ruptured ear, the pain, the crying, so many times. I no longer have count. The Dancing Queen has been on antibiotics continuously since October 2010 (and before then, fairly regularly as well, but I use her last open hear surgery as the cut off since she was healthy then). For a couple of months, there was talk of putting her on IVIG (donated immunoglobins to up her immune system), but her immunologist changed his mind and didn't think it would help. Now, DQ just goes through course after course after course of antibiotics. And her left ear drum continuously gets damaged. And my poor baby cries because of the pain and she cries because of the things her illnesses deny her.
Today, she cried her heart out because she wanted to eat at our favorite restaurant (even though she wouldn't have eaten a thing). We had promised. We were there. We had to leave. And DQ knows why. She feels like she is being punished for being sick. We try so hard to not let her feel that way, to let her know we are not angry and that leaving is not a punishment, that we will go back when she is feeling better, but she is 3 and doesn't understand. My heart breaks a little more with each of these instances because as she gets older, she understands more and more.
I've watched my daughter endure so much pain, so much suffering, so many tests, procedures, and surgeries. I've held her as she vomited continuously because her digestive system was too slow because of heart failure. I've held her down so she could be poked and prodded. I've signed off on slicing her open and spreading her ribs. I've stood there looking at her scared eyes as dozens of doctors and nurses have worked over her body. All of that was so very hard to do, but each instance was finite.
With these ears and this pain and suffering, it is continuous cycle. It is always there. How much longer can we last? How much more can a little girl take?
A week ago, I found the notes that were taken during the multidisciplinary conference right after we had been given DQ's initial diagnoses. In those notes, the geneticist wrote that hearing loss is common for people with DiGeorge Syndrome due to boney anomalies in the ear or frequent infection. Frequent ear infection. Is hearing loss next?
When will the Dancing Queen catch a break? Can't we have one month without pain? Can't we go three weeks without antibiotics? Can't she feel good for a moment?
I'd like to say I'm physically exhausted from my crazy busy week at work, lots of extra time spent on putting the birthday party together, little to no sleep, and the zillion extra obstacles sent our way (like a dead battery when all we wanted to do was get the melting down children home or arriving home find trees on top of houses and people looking around lost--remnants of a huge storm that luckily did little damage to us). I'd like to say that is what has me exhausted. It did. Last night. I couldn't keep my eyes open to eat dinner. I was bone tired, but slept well for the most part.
None of that plays a role in this exhaustion. Today, I'm mentally exhausted. Today, is one of those days I want to roll into a ball in the corner and cry.
Yesterday morning, on the way to TRex's birthday party with Ma, the Dancing Queen vomited in the car. We didn't think much of it because we all thought it was probably excitement for the party. It had been built up huge all summer. And DQ did have a slightly runny nose while we were there, but we were swimming. That happens. And she seemed totally fine otherwise. She ate (that's huge), she played, she had so much fun.
We started to get concerned near bed time, but DQ was fine. We checked her ears. They were fine. She slept fine. But, this morning, DQ had a runny nose. We went to breakfast at our favorite place because our house was empty of food. DQ took her first sip of juice and we were done. I tried to run out of the restaurant with her, but we didn't quite make it. Maybe 10 feet from the door, all of the mucus came up and out over my shoulder, down my back, and a little on her. We ran into the rain, DQ crying and upset.
An hour and a half later, we were home, playing and I went to move DQ's hair from her face. I couldn't. Her ear drum had exploded again. There was blood and gunk streaming down her cheek and into her hair where this morning it had been fine.
The Dancing Queen has an ear infection. Again.
Perhaps this seems tiny to you dear readers, but to us, this is just one more in the a long line of ear infections. DQ saw her ENT not but 6 days ago. The last ear infection from a couple of weeks ago was so bad that it burst a hole in her ear drum and knocked her third set of tubes out. The ENT ordered us to keep her ears healthy until he saw her again in 6 weeks when he would planto put the 4th set of tubes in in less than 2 years. I guess we failed there.
We have lived this same scenario: the vomiting, the ruptured ear, the pain, the crying, so many times. I no longer have count. The Dancing Queen has been on antibiotics continuously since October 2010 (and before then, fairly regularly as well, but I use her last open hear surgery as the cut off since she was healthy then). For a couple of months, there was talk of putting her on IVIG (donated immunoglobins to up her immune system), but her immunologist changed his mind and didn't think it would help. Now, DQ just goes through course after course after course of antibiotics. And her left ear drum continuously gets damaged. And my poor baby cries because of the pain and she cries because of the things her illnesses deny her.
Today, she cried her heart out because she wanted to eat at our favorite restaurant (even though she wouldn't have eaten a thing). We had promised. We were there. We had to leave. And DQ knows why. She feels like she is being punished for being sick. We try so hard to not let her feel that way, to let her know we are not angry and that leaving is not a punishment, that we will go back when she is feeling better, but she is 3 and doesn't understand. My heart breaks a little more with each of these instances because as she gets older, she understands more and more.
I've watched my daughter endure so much pain, so much suffering, so many tests, procedures, and surgeries. I've held her as she vomited continuously because her digestive system was too slow because of heart failure. I've held her down so she could be poked and prodded. I've signed off on slicing her open and spreading her ribs. I've stood there looking at her scared eyes as dozens of doctors and nurses have worked over her body. All of that was so very hard to do, but each instance was finite.
With these ears and this pain and suffering, it is continuous cycle. It is always there. How much longer can we last? How much more can a little girl take?
A week ago, I found the notes that were taken during the multidisciplinary conference right after we had been given DQ's initial diagnoses. In those notes, the geneticist wrote that hearing loss is common for people with DiGeorge Syndrome due to boney anomalies in the ear or frequent infection. Frequent ear infection. Is hearing loss next?
When will the Dancing Queen catch a break? Can't we have one month without pain? Can't we go three weeks without antibiotics? Can't she feel good for a moment?
Saturday, August 6, 2011
It's Hard Being a Working Mom
You may have noticed that my posting has dropped dramatically over the last couple of weeks. (If you didn't notice, it has.) My posts have dropped because my hours at work have increased. A LOT. That is a good thing, but it also sucks.
Working a lot is very good because having business is always very good. You might not know this, but the legal industry has been suffering just as much as the rest of the economy. Many, many attorneys have lost their jobs (but not their student loan debt!) Many, many more support staff have lost jobs. So, having work is a very good thing.
Unfortunately, this uptick in work is not crazy busy, not trial prep busy, but it is normal busy pre-recession. The problem is my level of overall fatigue. Because I am so tired from this life we have been living for the last three years, it is hard for me to get up in the morning because my inner night owl wants to come out (or at least stay in bed). However, if I don't get up by 5:30 am, I don't get to work until 9:00/9:30am, which means I have been leaving work between 9:00 and 10:30 pm. When I don't get home until 11:00pm, my night owl really kicks in, making it so much harder to rise the next day. Throw in the Dancing Queen crying off and on all night due to pain from an ear infection that won't go away no matter what we do and continuously bursts and bleeds, and I am one tired mommy.
I know my heart has bled a lot on these pages about how difficult it is being a heart mom and it is. But I don't think it is as black and white as I've been making it out on here or in my head. At least 50% of my exhaustion, of my dreariness, is being a full-time litigator mom. Trying to find enough hours in the day to take care of children (and a husband) while working is hard enough, but I am also expected to do the extra hours required for a litigator and I need to constantly be on call for emergencies and surprise deadlines. I'm not sure how I do it all because I am always so very, very tired.
I had lots of roll models for working moms. My mom worked full-time while raising my sister and I. My aunts worked. Both of my grandmothers worked. That is what you do when you have to put food on the table and one income won't do it. I saw them struggle to balance it all, but I had no idea of the utter weariness of it all. So, when baby fever hit, I knew I could do it because they all had, but I didn't really know how hard it would be (or the toll it would take on me physically).
Add in at least one doctor appointment a week, therapy sessions, and the inevitable trips to the pharmacy, even doing the regular stuff for the kids gets hard. For instance, TRex will begin kindergarten a month from now. How can I find the time to take him to visit the school (when it is open)? I need to be at work during the day and if I'm not at work during the day, I'm at a doctor's office or the hospital. I simply don't have extra time to take him to the school. Yet, he needs to go there.
So, I make time for things like visit schools, making me work later and longer when I finally get into the office. The next day I sleep in later, perpetuating the cycle. The only way to break the cycle is a break. This is why vacations exist. People need a pause button for life. And even if you don't go anywhere, at least you can catch up on sleep. But instead of vacations, we get hospital stays that are more draining than most everything else.
And that is why I am not blogging. If I'm not working or at a doctor's office, I am exhausted without brain power to write. It's hard being a working mom.
Working a lot is very good because having business is always very good. You might not know this, but the legal industry has been suffering just as much as the rest of the economy. Many, many attorneys have lost their jobs (but not their student loan debt!) Many, many more support staff have lost jobs. So, having work is a very good thing.
Unfortunately, this uptick in work is not crazy busy, not trial prep busy, but it is normal busy pre-recession. The problem is my level of overall fatigue. Because I am so tired from this life we have been living for the last three years, it is hard for me to get up in the morning because my inner night owl wants to come out (or at least stay in bed). However, if I don't get up by 5:30 am, I don't get to work until 9:00/9:30am, which means I have been leaving work between 9:00 and 10:30 pm. When I don't get home until 11:00pm, my night owl really kicks in, making it so much harder to rise the next day. Throw in the Dancing Queen crying off and on all night due to pain from an ear infection that won't go away no matter what we do and continuously bursts and bleeds, and I am one tired mommy.
I know my heart has bled a lot on these pages about how difficult it is being a heart mom and it is. But I don't think it is as black and white as I've been making it out on here or in my head. At least 50% of my exhaustion, of my dreariness, is being a full-time litigator mom. Trying to find enough hours in the day to take care of children (and a husband) while working is hard enough, but I am also expected to do the extra hours required for a litigator and I need to constantly be on call for emergencies and surprise deadlines. I'm not sure how I do it all because I am always so very, very tired.
I had lots of roll models for working moms. My mom worked full-time while raising my sister and I. My aunts worked. Both of my grandmothers worked. That is what you do when you have to put food on the table and one income won't do it. I saw them struggle to balance it all, but I had no idea of the utter weariness of it all. So, when baby fever hit, I knew I could do it because they all had, but I didn't really know how hard it would be (or the toll it would take on me physically).
Add in at least one doctor appointment a week, therapy sessions, and the inevitable trips to the pharmacy, even doing the regular stuff for the kids gets hard. For instance, TRex will begin kindergarten a month from now. How can I find the time to take him to visit the school (when it is open)? I need to be at work during the day and if I'm not at work during the day, I'm at a doctor's office or the hospital. I simply don't have extra time to take him to the school. Yet, he needs to go there.
So, I make time for things like visit schools, making me work later and longer when I finally get into the office. The next day I sleep in later, perpetuating the cycle. The only way to break the cycle is a break. This is why vacations exist. People need a pause button for life. And even if you don't go anywhere, at least you can catch up on sleep. But instead of vacations, we get hospital stays that are more draining than most everything else.
And that is why I am not blogging. If I'm not working or at a doctor's office, I am exhausted without brain power to write. It's hard being a working mom.
Monday, July 25, 2011
The Dark Side of Being a Heart Mom
I promised myself that I was going to be more up beat on the blog as my last several posts have been very introverted and not necessarily happy. But I couldn't shake this feeling I was having. I kept coming back to the same topic. It is something that is never discussed (at least not in any conversations I have had). So, this post needed to be written.
I have a digital picture frame on my desk at work. I last uploaded photos to it just before returning from maternity leave when DQ was three months old (yes, I keep meaning to add new photos, but time just seems to escape me). I look at those pictures nearly everyday, but don't necessarily see them. But today, I did. I saw myself six years ago, five years ago, four years ago, even three years ago. I was young, so very, very young.
I look at those pictures and I can feel how much I have aged in the last three years (most of it in the last two). I know how much more unhealthy I have become. And I hate it! I hate everything that the last couple of years have done to me, done to my face, my psyche, my stress, my butt . . .
But what's worse is that hating what the worry, stress, and fear has done to me, makes me feel like a horrible mother. I don't blame the Dancing Queen for any of this, but if she wasn't born broken, born so very sick, I wouldn't have aged fifteen years over the last couple. I likely wouldn't weigh more now than I did when I was pregnant with her.
How can I think such things? Afterall, DQ is the one who has suffered so very much. Not me! She is the one who faces the rocky future, filled with more surgeries, too many pokes, and endless tests, scans, and appointments. I am not staring down that fate.
I wish I could take all of the pain for her and I would, if I possibly could. And yet, and yet . . .
I hate how I have changed for the worse since DQ was born.
Yes, I know, I have changed for the better in so many more ways. I have changed in ways that matter more than looks, grey hair, and a big bottom. And I would never, ever change anything about DQ. How could I? She would never be the same little girl that I love with all of my heart. And I would do it all again without hesitation. That little girl is my world (along with her brother and daddy).
But, when I see pictures of the person I used to be, I wonder how much better our lives would be if DQ wasn't broken. And I hate that I will never be that person again. That DQ will never know her mom the way that I was and TRex will never remember days without overshadowing worries. And as much as I love my new found appreciation for life, I also miss the person who was innocent enough to take life for granted.
* * *
I have a digital picture frame on my desk at work. I last uploaded photos to it just before returning from maternity leave when DQ was three months old (yes, I keep meaning to add new photos, but time just seems to escape me). I look at those pictures nearly everyday, but don't necessarily see them. But today, I did. I saw myself six years ago, five years ago, four years ago, even three years ago. I was young, so very, very young.
 |
| One of the very last pictures taken of me before the Dancing Queen's diagnoses. |
I look at those pictures and I can feel how much I have aged in the last three years (most of it in the last two). I know how much more unhealthy I have become. And I hate it! I hate everything that the last couple of years have done to me, done to my face, my psyche, my stress, my butt . . .
But what's worse is that hating what the worry, stress, and fear has done to me, makes me feel like a horrible mother. I don't blame the Dancing Queen for any of this, but if she wasn't born broken, born so very sick, I wouldn't have aged fifteen years over the last couple. I likely wouldn't weigh more now than I did when I was pregnant with her.
How can I think such things? Afterall, DQ is the one who has suffered so very much. Not me! She is the one who faces the rocky future, filled with more surgeries, too many pokes, and endless tests, scans, and appointments. I am not staring down that fate.
I wish I could take all of the pain for her and I would, if I possibly could. And yet, and yet . . .
I hate how I have changed for the worse since DQ was born.
Yes, I know, I have changed for the better in so many more ways. I have changed in ways that matter more than looks, grey hair, and a big bottom. And I would never, ever change anything about DQ. How could I? She would never be the same little girl that I love with all of my heart. And I would do it all again without hesitation. That little girl is my world (along with her brother and daddy).
But, when I see pictures of the person I used to be, I wonder how much better our lives would be if DQ wasn't broken. And I hate that I will never be that person again. That DQ will never know her mom the way that I was and TRex will never remember days without overshadowing worries. And as much as I love my new found appreciation for life, I also miss the person who was innocent enough to take life for granted.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
*That* Lady
I was laying in bed seething. Every trick my therapist had taught me to block out the world and go to sleep was failing horribly. It was 1:45 a.m. Saturday night/Sunday morning and my neighbors, old enough to know better, self-centered enough young enough not to care, had been partying around a campfire all.night.long (as they do almost every weekend during the summer). I decided I would wait until 2:00 am and calmly go to the fence and remind them of closing time, others who had to work all day Sunday, sleeping children. I didn't want to be a total jerk. I mean some of my favorite memories revolve around campfires and nights spent with friends. But, it was almost 2:00 a.m.!
Then it happened. The neighbors got exponentially louder and the Dancing Queen began to cry. They woke up my sick daughter who needs sleep more than anything. Angry bear mama roared her head and I ran downstairs, out to the back porch and yelled at them to quiet down. There was no banter about closing time, no understanding of "I remember those times". This was me unleashing my fury over loudness (and probably a little jealousy that those days are gone for me).
But, the partiers didn't hear me. They didn't freaking hear me yelling at the top of my lungs! And so I did it, I became that lady: I threatened to call the police if they woke my sick child again. Apparently, they could make out the word "police". The fire was immediately extinguished and they went indoors or elsewhere. All was quiet.
I might have laid back in bed, thinking about the incident and lamenting my fall into "that lady" status, but instead, I walked into one of the most horrific scenes of my life and quickly forgot the careless frivolity of youth.
Let me back up a little bit.
DQ had started getting sick Friday night/Saturday morning. So far, it was just a cough and runny nose, maybe a low grade fever. I say maybe because she was out of sorts all day Saturday, crying and screaming, so of course she felt warm. But was it from her anger or from fever? We weren't sure. We were sure that the attitude was because she wasn't feeling well. Her heart rate was up, she was swollen (sign of an over-worked heart), and she was complaining of stomach pain. She took a three hour nap Saturday afternoon and still needed to be woken up from it. We feel fairly certain it is just a summer cold, but with DQ, a summer cold can lead to the hospital. Her body was obviously trying to compensate yesterday and she needed rest. Hence my sheer anger when the neighbors woke her.
The thing is, when I went back inside to check on her again, I noticed something in the dark. I looked again. DQ was sound asleep, but she was covered in blood. My baby's entire face and hands were covered in blood! I couldn't tell the origin of the blood or whether it was dry or new, or even if she continued to bleed in the dark. It seemed to be everywhere.
I ran to the Mad Scientist, made him look to be sure my tired eyes weren't playing tricks on me. They weren't! She had blood everywhere. I had the Mad Scientist pick her up to bring her to the bathroom while I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off searching for wash cloths to clean her up. My heart was racing. I was shaking. And DQ was just sleeping in her daddy's arms, looking like an angel covered in dried blood.
Yes, all of the blood was dried. There was a lot of it. It must have come from her nose. It looks like she tried to stop the bleeding with her hands and smeared it everywhere. So, it was not that big of a deal, I don't think. She lost a lot of blood, but not enough to be dangerous, I hope. I have no idea how much she swallowed. She has been having nosebleeds more frequently these days. I understand this is fairly common with DiGeorge kids and the fact that she is on an aspirin regime makes it more difficult. But, this nosebleed was definitely worse. The amount of blood was scary. Seeing my baby that way . . . Gosh, I thought someone had punched her in the face or had dropped something on her. The scene was horrific.
And all I could think about after I cleaned her up and she was back in bed, was "why hadn't she called us?" Then I remembered my idiot neighbors. DQ had probably called, but we didn't hear her over the loud party. Suddenly, I didn't care about being that lady. The reason that lady exists is because I care about more than myself. And if I have to remind a bunch of late-20 somethings that having a good time at the expense of others is . . . immature, well then I guess I'll be the grown up. My shoulders are big enough to carry "that lady" baggage.
Then it happened. The neighbors got exponentially louder and the Dancing Queen began to cry. They woke up my sick daughter who needs sleep more than anything. Angry bear mama roared her head and I ran downstairs, out to the back porch and yelled at them to quiet down. There was no banter about closing time, no understanding of "I remember those times". This was me unleashing my fury over loudness (and probably a little jealousy that those days are gone for me).
But, the partiers didn't hear me. They didn't freaking hear me yelling at the top of my lungs! And so I did it, I became that lady: I threatened to call the police if they woke my sick child again. Apparently, they could make out the word "police". The fire was immediately extinguished and they went indoors or elsewhere. All was quiet.
I might have laid back in bed, thinking about the incident and lamenting my fall into "that lady" status, but instead, I walked into one of the most horrific scenes of my life and quickly forgot the careless frivolity of youth.
Let me back up a little bit.
DQ had started getting sick Friday night/Saturday morning. So far, it was just a cough and runny nose, maybe a low grade fever. I say maybe because she was out of sorts all day Saturday, crying and screaming, so of course she felt warm. But was it from her anger or from fever? We weren't sure. We were sure that the attitude was because she wasn't feeling well. Her heart rate was up, she was swollen (sign of an over-worked heart), and she was complaining of stomach pain. She took a three hour nap Saturday afternoon and still needed to be woken up from it. We feel fairly certain it is just a summer cold, but with DQ, a summer cold can lead to the hospital. Her body was obviously trying to compensate yesterday and she needed rest. Hence my sheer anger when the neighbors woke her.
The thing is, when I went back inside to check on her again, I noticed something in the dark. I looked again. DQ was sound asleep, but she was covered in blood. My baby's entire face and hands were covered in blood! I couldn't tell the origin of the blood or whether it was dry or new, or even if she continued to bleed in the dark. It seemed to be everywhere.
I ran to the Mad Scientist, made him look to be sure my tired eyes weren't playing tricks on me. They weren't! She had blood everywhere. I had the Mad Scientist pick her up to bring her to the bathroom while I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off searching for wash cloths to clean her up. My heart was racing. I was shaking. And DQ was just sleeping in her daddy's arms, looking like an angel covered in dried blood.
Yes, all of the blood was dried. There was a lot of it. It must have come from her nose. It looks like she tried to stop the bleeding with her hands and smeared it everywhere. So, it was not that big of a deal, I don't think. She lost a lot of blood, but not enough to be dangerous, I hope. I have no idea how much she swallowed. She has been having nosebleeds more frequently these days. I understand this is fairly common with DiGeorge kids and the fact that she is on an aspirin regime makes it more difficult. But, this nosebleed was definitely worse. The amount of blood was scary. Seeing my baby that way . . . Gosh, I thought someone had punched her in the face or had dropped something on her. The scene was horrific.
And all I could think about after I cleaned her up and she was back in bed, was "why hadn't she called us?" Then I remembered my idiot neighbors. DQ had probably called, but we didn't hear her over the loud party. Suddenly, I didn't care about being that lady. The reason that lady exists is because I care about more than myself. And if I have to remind a bunch of late-20 somethings that having a good time at the expense of others is . . . immature, well then I guess I'll be the grown up. My shoulders are big enough to carry "that lady" baggage.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Weekly Wrap Up
I had started doing weekly wrap ups back in April and stopped for some reason. I've decided to bring it back.
The main wrap up for this week is: whooping cough! You got it right. Mom on a Line has been suffering from whooping cough (at least that is the working presumption--tests were not done because it wouldn't change my treatment). I have been terribly careful about not spreading germs, so I hope I did not inadvertently infect someone. A few lessons learned from this is (1) everyone needs their DTap booster every 10 years; (2) my kids vaccines seem to be working; and (3) I'm miserable when I can't breathe. How does DQ do it?!?
I have been sick for two weeks now. My throat has been hurting that entire time. I've been coughing like crazy. I lost my voice on Monday and still do not have it back. My lungs are so sore. It hurts to breath. And I had to have two shots! Waaaaa! Okay, I'm done whining now.
Back to the wrap up.
We got our new range. It has not been hooked up yet. Apparently, the Mad Scientist needs to buy a connector part. I am so excited to cook something with gas. The kids are a little afraid of having fire in the house though. They haven't seen the new range in action and the idea of actual flames to cook the food is too much for them to deal with. The first time it is used should be interesting. If it's really interesting, I'll share the story here.
DQ has fought with me every single morning this week. She has decided to start screaming fits whenever she doesn't get her way. Of course, I don't give in. That makes the fits go louder and longer. It has been pleasant. NOT! I'm ready to move beyond the horrific threes, thank you very much.
Our cable is going. AGAIN. Last spring for about 4 or 6 months, we had no cable. It started leaving us slowly, a channel here and there would begin pixulating. Then the channel would just be gone. Eventually, they all left us. We called out technicians. They'd fix something or replace that box. It wouldn't work. Then we were told it was a problem with the electrical wiring in our house. We had that replaced at great expense. Still not fixed. Then we learned if we stopped using internet, we'd get cable and spent a while switching back and forth and buying $100+ power splitters (who knew!). None of that worked. Finally, a new person came out and fixed the outdoor connections. That seemed to fix the problem . . . until two weeks ago when the channels we watch most started to pixulate. We've now lost Nick Jr. completely (no "Little Bill"!!!). We have NBC and Food Network in regular, but not HD, which is fine . . . until those go as well. I need me some down time! The whole situation is just odd and annoying and if it goes as last time, in about a month, we'll have nothing.
DQ only had one doctor's appointment this week, so that is good. The appointment was yesterday. She woke up with gunk in her hair and dried blood in her ear. Apparently, there is no infection this time. The doc seems to think she busted a blood vessel in her ear. The first thing I thought of was her screaming fits with the ear piercing screeches. Can you bust a blood vessel from screaming because you don't want to go to bed?
That has been my week. (Except for the part where I embarrassed myself on this blog by posting high school photos!) Anything exciting happen in your week?
Happy Memorial Day! Let us all remember the sacrifices made by the thousands and thousands of veterans who have laid their lives on the line for our ideals, freedom, and safety.
The main wrap up for this week is: whooping cough! You got it right. Mom on a Line has been suffering from whooping cough (at least that is the working presumption--tests were not done because it wouldn't change my treatment). I have been terribly careful about not spreading germs, so I hope I did not inadvertently infect someone. A few lessons learned from this is (1) everyone needs their DTap booster every 10 years; (2) my kids vaccines seem to be working; and (3) I'm miserable when I can't breathe. How does DQ do it?!?
I have been sick for two weeks now. My throat has been hurting that entire time. I've been coughing like crazy. I lost my voice on Monday and still do not have it back. My lungs are so sore. It hurts to breath. And I had to have two shots! Waaaaa! Okay, I'm done whining now.
Back to the wrap up.
We got our new range. It has not been hooked up yet. Apparently, the Mad Scientist needs to buy a connector part. I am so excited to cook something with gas. The kids are a little afraid of having fire in the house though. They haven't seen the new range in action and the idea of actual flames to cook the food is too much for them to deal with. The first time it is used should be interesting. If it's really interesting, I'll share the story here.
DQ has fought with me every single morning this week. She has decided to start screaming fits whenever she doesn't get her way. Of course, I don't give in. That makes the fits go louder and longer. It has been pleasant. NOT! I'm ready to move beyond the horrific threes, thank you very much.
Our cable is going. AGAIN. Last spring for about 4 or 6 months, we had no cable. It started leaving us slowly, a channel here and there would begin pixulating. Then the channel would just be gone. Eventually, they all left us. We called out technicians. They'd fix something or replace that box. It wouldn't work. Then we were told it was a problem with the electrical wiring in our house. We had that replaced at great expense. Still not fixed. Then we learned if we stopped using internet, we'd get cable and spent a while switching back and forth and buying $100+ power splitters (who knew!). None of that worked. Finally, a new person came out and fixed the outdoor connections. That seemed to fix the problem . . . until two weeks ago when the channels we watch most started to pixulate. We've now lost Nick Jr. completely (no "Little Bill"!!!). We have NBC and Food Network in regular, but not HD, which is fine . . . until those go as well. I need me some down time! The whole situation is just odd and annoying and if it goes as last time, in about a month, we'll have nothing.
DQ only had one doctor's appointment this week, so that is good. The appointment was yesterday. She woke up with gunk in her hair and dried blood in her ear. Apparently, there is no infection this time. The doc seems to think she busted a blood vessel in her ear. The first thing I thought of was her screaming fits with the ear piercing screeches. Can you bust a blood vessel from screaming because you don't want to go to bed?
That has been my week. (Except for the part where I embarrassed myself on this blog by posting high school photos!) Anything exciting happen in your week?
Happy Memorial Day! Let us all remember the sacrifices made by the thousands and thousands of veterans who have laid their lives on the line for our ideals, freedom, and safety.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Too Much
I had an interesting conversation today regarding signing with a child.
Let me say this straight out: I believe teaching the Dancing Queen American Sign Language was one of the very best decisions I have ever made. Purchasing the Signing Time Videos was one of the best purchases ever. Hands down, no question, our lives all got easier when DQ learned to sign. We saw the lightbulb go off in her head the very first time we popped in "It's Baby Signing Time". (We had tried signing with her before the video, but for her, music was the key. Not surprising from my music-centered kid.) At 18 months, she went from being a frustrated toddler (even though she wasn't toddling yet) to being able to communicate her wants and needs to us in an intelligible manner. The change was remarkable.
At 2 years old, she was evaluated by her speech therapist with the verbal ability of a nine month old, but she could sign and was communicating. At that time, when we were struggling to keep DQ alive, we were just happy she could tell us what was happening and what she wanted or needed.
And in the last year, DQ's vocabulary exploded. She went from basically non-verbal to completely verbal almost over night. Her growth was remarkable. I attribute most of that to the signing. Even though DQ wasn't verbal, we still treated as if she was. We taught her manners. We talked to her as we would any child her age. Instead of only verbal though, we used signs as well. For instance, if DQ were to belch, she was instructed to say "excuse me" and sign it. Well, she couldn't verbalize, but she could sign. Signing was never done as an alternative to verbal speech, but as an additional tool that worked. As of DQ's last speech evaluation two months ago, she was verbally speaking over age level. It is a remarkable achievement that I think was aided by signing.
Today, I was part of a discussion in which a speech therapist told a worried mom that it would be wrong for her to teach her non-verbal child sign language because it would prevent the absolute earliest possible verbal speech. I can't argue with that. I don't have any idea if DQ would have verbalized earlier if she hadn't signed, but I do take issue with the idea that the goal should be to have the absolute earliest verbal speech.
At what cost to the family and the child should anyone suggest that obtaining the earliest verbal speech possible is the only goal? I know in my family, DQ wasn't about to start verbalizing any time soon. Changing therapy techniques may have worked, but not as quickly as signing. DQ needed her hearing fixed to be able to take that next step. Beyond that, she had to figure out how to work her mouth. She simply didn't do that well (for speech or eating or drinking!) If we had waited for only verbal speech, DQ would have been frustrated and screaming more for much longer. That would have added strain to our family at a time when we were beyond stressed because she was facing so many other life-threatening issues.
Isn't it too much when a therapist/doctor/specialist takes their own specialist interest and makes it the only goal? I find it completely irresponsible for a speech therapist to tell a worried mother of a non-verbal child that signing was a bad choice without taking into consideration the full picture. What are your thoughts?
Let me say this straight out: I believe teaching the Dancing Queen American Sign Language was one of the very best decisions I have ever made. Purchasing the Signing Time Videos was one of the best purchases ever. Hands down, no question, our lives all got easier when DQ learned to sign. We saw the lightbulb go off in her head the very first time we popped in "It's Baby Signing Time". (We had tried signing with her before the video, but for her, music was the key. Not surprising from my music-centered kid.) At 18 months, she went from being a frustrated toddler (even though she wasn't toddling yet) to being able to communicate her wants and needs to us in an intelligible manner. The change was remarkable.At 2 years old, she was evaluated by her speech therapist with the verbal ability of a nine month old, but she could sign and was communicating. At that time, when we were struggling to keep DQ alive, we were just happy she could tell us what was happening and what she wanted or needed.
And in the last year, DQ's vocabulary exploded. She went from basically non-verbal to completely verbal almost over night. Her growth was remarkable. I attribute most of that to the signing. Even though DQ wasn't verbal, we still treated as if she was. We taught her manners. We talked to her as we would any child her age. Instead of only verbal though, we used signs as well. For instance, if DQ were to belch, she was instructed to say "excuse me" and sign it. Well, she couldn't verbalize, but she could sign. Signing was never done as an alternative to verbal speech, but as an additional tool that worked. As of DQ's last speech evaluation two months ago, she was verbally speaking over age level. It is a remarkable achievement that I think was aided by signing.
Today, I was part of a discussion in which a speech therapist told a worried mom that it would be wrong for her to teach her non-verbal child sign language because it would prevent the absolute earliest possible verbal speech. I can't argue with that. I don't have any idea if DQ would have verbalized earlier if she hadn't signed, but I do take issue with the idea that the goal should be to have the absolute earliest verbal speech.
At what cost to the family and the child should anyone suggest that obtaining the earliest verbal speech possible is the only goal? I know in my family, DQ wasn't about to start verbalizing any time soon. Changing therapy techniques may have worked, but not as quickly as signing. DQ needed her hearing fixed to be able to take that next step. Beyond that, she had to figure out how to work her mouth. She simply didn't do that well (for speech or eating or drinking!) If we had waited for only verbal speech, DQ would have been frustrated and screaming more for much longer. That would have added strain to our family at a time when we were beyond stressed because she was facing so many other life-threatening issues.
Isn't it too much when a therapist/doctor/specialist takes their own specialist interest and makes it the only goal? I find it completely irresponsible for a speech therapist to tell a worried mother of a non-verbal child that signing was a bad choice without taking into consideration the full picture. What are your thoughts?
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Decisions Are Not Easy
I hate the questioning! My husband and I have thought and thought and thought about what is best to do for the Dancing Queen. We have never taken any decision lightly, yet we are constantly being questioned.
I work full-time. So does the Mad Scientist. In order to pay for our house, my student loans, food, and maintain health insurance to cover DQ, we must work. We've debated over and over and over again whether the Mad Scientist should be a stay at home dad and keep DQ shielded from the world. We decided to put her out there, to let her live her life.
My daughter has DiGeorge's Syndrome and severe, complex heart defects and lung disease and I let her to go public school. She rides a bus. She plays with other kids. We take her to the zoo, the mall, and she went to the movie theater for the first time last weekend. We let her interact with other humans. You know what, she loves it! My daughter is a people person, who loves life. And if you asked her whether going to the hospital every other month was worth playing with friends, singing songs in a group, and playing at a park, she'd say yes.
Could I keep her in a bubble? Yes. Could I prevent her from being a part of the world? Yes. Would that keep her from getting sick? Maybe. TRex still would be going to school and he'd still get sick and bring it home. Maybe I should be keeping him home as well. Even if we kept her home and away from the rest of the world that she loves, there is no guaranty she would stay with us longer. The only guaranty in that would be a less happy child.
When DQ was under lock-down mode last August through November due to prepping for surgery and recovery, she was miserable. She wanted to go to school. She wanted interaction with other children. She wanted a life outside of her home. Staying hidden from the world is not her.
Yet, I constantly have people questioning my decision to let her live her life in the open. I promise you it was not an easy decision. I don't like the thought that my daughter could die from a virus caught on the school bus, but I also know there is NO guaranty she would be fine if we locked her away.
We choose life, lived to the fullest in our household. I wish people would understand and not question my decisions. We each have our own priorities, our own special problems. That leads each of us to take our own path. I will not question your choices. Please don't question mine.
I work full-time. So does the Mad Scientist. In order to pay for our house, my student loans, food, and maintain health insurance to cover DQ, we must work. We've debated over and over and over again whether the Mad Scientist should be a stay at home dad and keep DQ shielded from the world. We decided to put her out there, to let her live her life.
My daughter has DiGeorge's Syndrome and severe, complex heart defects and lung disease and I let her to go public school. She rides a bus. She plays with other kids. We take her to the zoo, the mall, and she went to the movie theater for the first time last weekend. We let her interact with other humans. You know what, she loves it! My daughter is a people person, who loves life. And if you asked her whether going to the hospital every other month was worth playing with friends, singing songs in a group, and playing at a park, she'd say yes.
Could I keep her in a bubble? Yes. Could I prevent her from being a part of the world? Yes. Would that keep her from getting sick? Maybe. TRex still would be going to school and he'd still get sick and bring it home. Maybe I should be keeping him home as well. Even if we kept her home and away from the rest of the world that she loves, there is no guaranty she would stay with us longer. The only guaranty in that would be a less happy child.
When DQ was under lock-down mode last August through November due to prepping for surgery and recovery, she was miserable. She wanted to go to school. She wanted interaction with other children. She wanted a life outside of her home. Staying hidden from the world is not her.
Yet, I constantly have people questioning my decision to let her live her life in the open. I promise you it was not an easy decision. I don't like the thought that my daughter could die from a virus caught on the school bus, but I also know there is NO guaranty she would be fine if we locked her away.
We choose life, lived to the fullest in our household. I wish people would understand and not question my decisions. We each have our own priorities, our own special problems. That leads each of us to take our own path. I will not question your choices. Please don't question mine.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Screaming at Local Governments
So, this is one of those times I just want to scream at the government. To be precise, local government.
Local governments make me want to scream frequently because they infringe on First Amendment rights more than any other branch of government. I think it is because most local governments don't have the knowledge or resources to understand what they can and cannot do when it comes to speech and assembly.
In my neck of the woods, a local government has gone to extremes to prohibit speech and assembly. The speaker is repugnant, but the censorship is worse. If we don't protect the speech of the lunatic fringe, soon all of our speech will be censored. If we try to stop the hate speech, we just fuel the fire of the supporters to react more aggressively.
I could say so much more on this topic. I believe in free speech. It is one of the most important civil liberties we have in this country. But, I don't have the time today to pontificate further. Instead, I ask you: Who would you be without free speech?
Local governments make me want to scream frequently because they infringe on First Amendment rights more than any other branch of government. I think it is because most local governments don't have the knowledge or resources to understand what they can and cannot do when it comes to speech and assembly.
In my neck of the woods, a local government has gone to extremes to prohibit speech and assembly. The speaker is repugnant, but the censorship is worse. If we don't protect the speech of the lunatic fringe, soon all of our speech will be censored. If we try to stop the hate speech, we just fuel the fire of the supporters to react more aggressively.
I could say so much more on this topic. I believe in free speech. It is one of the most important civil liberties we have in this country. But, I don't have the time today to pontificate further. Instead, I ask you: Who would you be without free speech?
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Nameless Characters
I've written a post like this before, but didn't publish it and deleted it. It is about the nameless characters in our lives that make my blood boil. These people we shall call X and Y are as close in relation to our family as you can get, practically speaking. They claim to love my children so very much and my children light up like Christmas trees when they see X and Y, yet, where are they????
In February, when DQ was hospitalized the last time, X and Y refused to visit because they might get sick. And they refused to visit this time because X had a doctor's appointment on Tuesday. It makes sense, right? DQ has been in the hospital since last Thursday, will likely be in through this weekend and X has a 2 hour doctor's appointment on ONE day during the week, so they are way too busy to see one of the most important people in their lives.
Did I mention that neither X nor Y work. They only garden. If you didn't hear the snark in that statement, re-read it with lots of snark. We've had X and Y come to our house and pull TRex aside and ask why he doesn't visit them more often, prompting him to run to me and ask me: "Mommy, why can't I go to X and Y's house?" Then when we ask if we can come over, we are told the weather was too nice, X and Y need to garden.
I have many more instances. X and Y totally skipped TRex's birthday last year and showed up 2 hours late to DQ's 3 hour birthday party last year. They rarely visit DQ in the hospital and are never available to give the Mad Scientist or I a break. (Contrary to what most people think, having a young child in the hospital is kinda like a prison for the parents because the child will not allow you to leave the room, making getting food impossible or even a break, unless someone the child loves a whole bunch comes for a short visit.) X and Y hardly ever visit DQ.
I've been angry with X and Y for years now. I've discussed their actions with them and how it affects my family. The answer was "that is who we are". I would like nothing more than to cut them out completely, but that is not an option. It doesn't make it any easier on me and frankly makes me want to scream. I hate what they do to my family. And while DQ and TRex are too young to realize how often X and Y disappoint, they are getting older. That makes it harder. I know not to believe them when they tell me they will come, but when they tell my kids and don't come, how do I explain it? How can I explain to DQ that other people she holds in the same regard as X and Y visit her every single day in the hospital and X and Y can't find their way on any day? She will start to notice.
How can people who claim to love TRex and DQ so much constantly think of asinine excuses to stay away?
In February, when DQ was hospitalized the last time, X and Y refused to visit because they might get sick. And they refused to visit this time because X had a doctor's appointment on Tuesday. It makes sense, right? DQ has been in the hospital since last Thursday, will likely be in through this weekend and X has a 2 hour doctor's appointment on ONE day during the week, so they are way too busy to see one of the most important people in their lives.
Did I mention that neither X nor Y work. They only garden. If you didn't hear the snark in that statement, re-read it with lots of snark. We've had X and Y come to our house and pull TRex aside and ask why he doesn't visit them more often, prompting him to run to me and ask me: "Mommy, why can't I go to X and Y's house?" Then when we ask if we can come over, we are told the weather was too nice, X and Y need to garden.
I have many more instances. X and Y totally skipped TRex's birthday last year and showed up 2 hours late to DQ's 3 hour birthday party last year. They rarely visit DQ in the hospital and are never available to give the Mad Scientist or I a break. (Contrary to what most people think, having a young child in the hospital is kinda like a prison for the parents because the child will not allow you to leave the room, making getting food impossible or even a break, unless someone the child loves a whole bunch comes for a short visit.) X and Y hardly ever visit DQ.
I've been angry with X and Y for years now. I've discussed their actions with them and how it affects my family. The answer was "that is who we are". I would like nothing more than to cut them out completely, but that is not an option. It doesn't make it any easier on me and frankly makes me want to scream. I hate what they do to my family. And while DQ and TRex are too young to realize how often X and Y disappoint, they are getting older. That makes it harder. I know not to believe them when they tell me they will come, but when they tell my kids and don't come, how do I explain it? How can I explain to DQ that other people she holds in the same regard as X and Y visit her every single day in the hospital and X and Y can't find their way on any day? She will start to notice.
How can people who claim to love TRex and DQ so much constantly think of asinine excuses to stay away?
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Spent
I am totally spent, sitting at work just wanting to go home and climb back in bed and hide again. The Dancing Queen woke up around 6:30 a.m. vomiting and hasn't stopped yet. Since I have a huge memo due today and will be out of town all next week, the Mad Scientist had to make the hour drive back home at 6:30 in the morning after only being at work for half an hour. And of course, DQ only wanted mommy. Luckily, as I was leaving, she insisted on a nap, so it was okay that mommy was leaving cause she was going to sleep anyway.
TRex is supposed to be going with his Ma tonight to visit the Chef (5 to 6 hour drive). Now that is up in the air because TRex complained of a stomach ache twice AND he didn't really eat breakfast. That is never a good sign because where DQ never eats, TRex always eats. So, we are on the verge of having to tell TRex he can't go, thus disappointing him, the Chef, Little Car Guy, and Ma. And all of this on top of poor DQ being miserably sick.
I am totally spent.
TRex is supposed to be going with his Ma tonight to visit the Chef (5 to 6 hour drive). Now that is up in the air because TRex complained of a stomach ache twice AND he didn't really eat breakfast. That is never a good sign because where DQ never eats, TRex always eats. So, we are on the verge of having to tell TRex he can't go, thus disappointing him, the Chef, Little Car Guy, and Ma. And all of this on top of poor DQ being miserably sick.
I am totally spent.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Appliances
You may recall the dishwasher fairy I was waiting for back in February when my dishwasher had only been broken 3 weeks. Well, she never came. My dishwasher is still broken. We've been washing dishes by hand for 2.5 months now (and who has time for that!)
Then, this happened:
Seriously. How does this happen? The Mad Scientist merely placed a pot of water on the cold stove top this evening and WHAMMO.
Now, we need a dishwasher, a stove, and an oven. At least we can switch to gas. Been wanting one of those since we moved into our house 8 years ago (it came with all of the kitchen appliances).
Now, if one of you can send the kitchen fairy my way, I'd be so appreciative.
Then, this happened:
Seriously. How does this happen? The Mad Scientist merely placed a pot of water on the cold stove top this evening and WHAMMO.
Now, we need a dishwasher, a stove, and an oven. At least we can switch to gas. Been wanting one of those since we moved into our house 8 years ago (it came with all of the kitchen appliances).
Now, if one of you can send the kitchen fairy my way, I'd be so appreciative.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Should I Go to Law School?
I am often asked questions simply because I am a lawyer. The most common question is: "My daughter or son, my neighbor's nephew, my boss's girlfriend's daughter is applying to law school. What advice should I give them?" Of course, this question can be started even more ways than I provided. I've even had a check out lady at the grocery store ask me what I did for a living and immediately upon finding out, ask me for her daughter, a sophomore in college, but who is destined to be a lawyer. Occasionally, I will even have a real person who is thinking of law school talk to me.
My answer is the same for whomever asks: Think really, really hard about your decision. There is no going back. Student loans are non-dischargeable. If they don't want to be a lawyer, they shouldn't go to law school. Law school itself is hard work, long hours of preparation, and grueling classes if it is done correctly. You can skate by, but you won't be prepared and you'll be wasting money and annoying classmates who take it all seriously. But, long hours in law school are quickly passed up by even longer hours working as a lawyer. Even if you've worked 36 hours straight, you will still be expected to shower, slap on a smile and go mingle with hundreds of other attorneys to properly network. You will owe the equivalent of a mortgage in student loans and most attorneys don't make enough to cover two mortgages. That means you will have your education, but where will you sleep? Perhaps in your office because you'll feel like you live there anyway with the hours you will put in.
Okay, this is my sarcastic version of the advice I provide, but it is all true. I make sure people know most lawyers don't make tons of money. That student loans are equivalent of a mortgage for a house that you will never ever be able to sell, burn down, or lose to a hurricane. There is no insurance plan if you suddenly can't use your law degree. The hours suck. I emphasize thinking about it really hard, following around a real lawyer doing real work, working in a law office as a messenger or copy person to see what the culture is like. I always make sure people know that I love being a lawyer. If I had to do it all again, I probably would. But, I didn't have a clue what I was getting myself into. I am lucky that I love what I do (even if I don't like the hours).
One of the biggest myths propagated by law schools is that a JD opens up lots of career opportunities and you don't have to be a lawyer. Of course, many people who went to law school do not work as lawyers. And yes, you can take a myraid of career paths with a JD. BUT, why would you? If you are not going to be a lawyer, don't go to law school. Go to school for what you want to do. Don't know what you want to do, get a real job for a while and figure it out.
Of course many people will tell you that their JD made it so the could start in another field. But think about it. Those people are not going to tell you they wasted $120K on a career they didn't want or couldn't do. The fact is many law school graduates don't like being a lawyer. They don't like the hours. They don't like research. They're no good at it, so it is not fun. They don't like negotiating with jerks on the other aside. They never found their niche in the law that fits their style. Or that niche area was so concentrated, they couldn't get a foothold in. There are many niches in the law that any competent attorney should find a love, but sadly, some people don't find their niche and go elsewhere. If people thought more about what they want out of life before going to law school and thought about what their strengths are, then they would know if it is the correct decision.
One last thing needs to be said here. I've broached it twice earlier, but did you see it? There are two types of people who most definitely should not go to law school: those who plan to only skate by and those who are not capable of being a lawyer. Unfortunately, those people still go to law school and the schools do nothing to weed them out. There are people who are extremely smart and talented who just don't do well in law school. They can't get it. Those are people I felt should have flunked out after the first semester so they could find their true calling. And those people stuck out like a sore thumb! Instead, they didn't flunk, but were at the bottom of the class. Despite working really hard and trying, they never did any better and they were kept in school. As the years went by, the confidence they once had because they were smart and talented was lost due to being the bottom of the class. They did graduate from law school, but could never pass the bar. While I don't pretend to think the bar exam is a good measure of your worth as a lawyer, I do know people who I thought should have failed first year who could never pass the bar exam. I blame the law schools. They had to know these people couldn't cut it. Instead of forcing them out early before they were loaded with debt, before they had this degree people expected them to use, the schools made them wait to face this music at a much different phase of their lives. It's not right and it is a serious consideration for anyone who thinks that law school is the place to be. What if you can't cut it? How will you know? And are you prepared to cut loose without anyone telling you to do so? I only know one person who did that. He was smart. Dropped out in the middle of the first semester and went to med school instead. I hope it worked out for him.
Finally, the last type of person who should never go to law school: the skaters. Since people can make it through law school trying real hard and failing, the people who don't try, can still skate on by. While they may be able to be lawyers, they turn into skaters in real practice, which makes more work for the rest of us. Always trying to take the easy way out seems like the fast track to ethical problems if you ask me. As lawyers, we are bound by an ethical code. The quickest way to an unintentional violation is not knowing what you are doing and taking the easy way out instead of doing the work. Not doing the work, trying to skate by, getting ethical violations, those are the things that give lawyers a bad name. I'd rather those people put their laziness elsewhere.
My answer is the same for whomever asks: Think really, really hard about your decision. There is no going back. Student loans are non-dischargeable. If they don't want to be a lawyer, they shouldn't go to law school. Law school itself is hard work, long hours of preparation, and grueling classes if it is done correctly. You can skate by, but you won't be prepared and you'll be wasting money and annoying classmates who take it all seriously. But, long hours in law school are quickly passed up by even longer hours working as a lawyer. Even if you've worked 36 hours straight, you will still be expected to shower, slap on a smile and go mingle with hundreds of other attorneys to properly network. You will owe the equivalent of a mortgage in student loans and most attorneys don't make enough to cover two mortgages. That means you will have your education, but where will you sleep? Perhaps in your office because you'll feel like you live there anyway with the hours you will put in.
Okay, this is my sarcastic version of the advice I provide, but it is all true. I make sure people know most lawyers don't make tons of money. That student loans are equivalent of a mortgage for a house that you will never ever be able to sell, burn down, or lose to a hurricane. There is no insurance plan if you suddenly can't use your law degree. The hours suck. I emphasize thinking about it really hard, following around a real lawyer doing real work, working in a law office as a messenger or copy person to see what the culture is like. I always make sure people know that I love being a lawyer. If I had to do it all again, I probably would. But, I didn't have a clue what I was getting myself into. I am lucky that I love what I do (even if I don't like the hours).
One of the biggest myths propagated by law schools is that a JD opens up lots of career opportunities and you don't have to be a lawyer. Of course, many people who went to law school do not work as lawyers. And yes, you can take a myraid of career paths with a JD. BUT, why would you? If you are not going to be a lawyer, don't go to law school. Go to school for what you want to do. Don't know what you want to do, get a real job for a while and figure it out.
Of course many people will tell you that their JD made it so the could start in another field. But think about it. Those people are not going to tell you they wasted $120K on a career they didn't want or couldn't do. The fact is many law school graduates don't like being a lawyer. They don't like the hours. They don't like research. They're no good at it, so it is not fun. They don't like negotiating with jerks on the other aside. They never found their niche in the law that fits their style. Or that niche area was so concentrated, they couldn't get a foothold in. There are many niches in the law that any competent attorney should find a love, but sadly, some people don't find their niche and go elsewhere. If people thought more about what they want out of life before going to law school and thought about what their strengths are, then they would know if it is the correct decision.
One last thing needs to be said here. I've broached it twice earlier, but did you see it? There are two types of people who most definitely should not go to law school: those who plan to only skate by and those who are not capable of being a lawyer. Unfortunately, those people still go to law school and the schools do nothing to weed them out. There are people who are extremely smart and talented who just don't do well in law school. They can't get it. Those are people I felt should have flunked out after the first semester so they could find their true calling. And those people stuck out like a sore thumb! Instead, they didn't flunk, but were at the bottom of the class. Despite working really hard and trying, they never did any better and they were kept in school. As the years went by, the confidence they once had because they were smart and talented was lost due to being the bottom of the class. They did graduate from law school, but could never pass the bar. While I don't pretend to think the bar exam is a good measure of your worth as a lawyer, I do know people who I thought should have failed first year who could never pass the bar exam. I blame the law schools. They had to know these people couldn't cut it. Instead of forcing them out early before they were loaded with debt, before they had this degree people expected them to use, the schools made them wait to face this music at a much different phase of their lives. It's not right and it is a serious consideration for anyone who thinks that law school is the place to be. What if you can't cut it? How will you know? And are you prepared to cut loose without anyone telling you to do so? I only know one person who did that. He was smart. Dropped out in the middle of the first semester and went to med school instead. I hope it worked out for him.
Finally, the last type of person who should never go to law school: the skaters. Since people can make it through law school trying real hard and failing, the people who don't try, can still skate on by. While they may be able to be lawyers, they turn into skaters in real practice, which makes more work for the rest of us. Always trying to take the easy way out seems like the fast track to ethical problems if you ask me. As lawyers, we are bound by an ethical code. The quickest way to an unintentional violation is not knowing what you are doing and taking the easy way out instead of doing the work. Not doing the work, trying to skate by, getting ethical violations, those are the things that give lawyers a bad name. I'd rather those people put their laziness elsewhere.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Opinions
I have a lot of opinions. Opinions about politics, about government, about the law, about healthcare, ethics, morality, duty, and so much more. These are the things I thought I would write about when I started this blog. The problem I have is how to state my opinions and not run counter to my professional life. It's not to say that I represent clients who are diametrically opposed to my personal opinions and beliefs, but I never know who the next client may be and I don't want to take a position that could hinder that relationship or my representation of that potential client. That leaves me in a bind.
It is safe to say that I tend to have liberal views. I don't like political parties though. I think allegiance to a political party rather than a core set of beliefs is causing our country to only care about elections instead of governing and care about popularity rather than what is right. Somehow politics is no longer about compromise, but about giving prizes to the people with the most money spent on the topic at hand and lambasting the people who didn't put enough money on the table. It's not right. Any of it!
Unfortunately, I don't have answers. But, I can say this. I believe in taxes. I don't believe in wasteful government. I don't believe in earmarks that skip the majority vote process. I do believe in providing the country a strong military. I do believe in providing our men and women who fight for us with the proper equipment. I don't believe we should continue to concentrate all of our resources based upon terrorism, but based upon our national interests. Really, terrorism is not new and is not going to be stamped out through killing and violence. I do believe in free speech. I do believe in the power of the people. I don't believe corporations are people. I do believe we now live in an oligarchy dressed up as a democracy. I don't believe that is right.
I am scared by what I see in the news. I am scared that unions are being destroyed so that corporations can make more money. I am scared that making money is more important than saving lives. I am scared that education is being sacrificed to cut deficits, but taxation is not considered because the ultra-rich are willing to pay millions in lobbying rather than pay taxes to cover education.
I believe we are better off living in a society and by doing so are responsible for each other. I don't like it when people do nothing and get a check because I work hard. But I don't believe all people are like that. No child deserves to go hungry. No mother should have to chose between seeing their children grow and putting food on the table for them. We will only continue to lose our grip on power in this world if all our children are not given the chance to succeed, if they are all not fed, and if they are all not provided healthcare. I don't understand why our priority is on lowering taxes and not on future generations. Without the children, none of this matters.
It is safe to say that I tend to have liberal views. I don't like political parties though. I think allegiance to a political party rather than a core set of beliefs is causing our country to only care about elections instead of governing and care about popularity rather than what is right. Somehow politics is no longer about compromise, but about giving prizes to the people with the most money spent on the topic at hand and lambasting the people who didn't put enough money on the table. It's not right. Any of it!
Unfortunately, I don't have answers. But, I can say this. I believe in taxes. I don't believe in wasteful government. I don't believe in earmarks that skip the majority vote process. I do believe in providing the country a strong military. I do believe in providing our men and women who fight for us with the proper equipment. I don't believe we should continue to concentrate all of our resources based upon terrorism, but based upon our national interests. Really, terrorism is not new and is not going to be stamped out through killing and violence. I do believe in free speech. I do believe in the power of the people. I don't believe corporations are people. I do believe we now live in an oligarchy dressed up as a democracy. I don't believe that is right.
I am scared by what I see in the news. I am scared that unions are being destroyed so that corporations can make more money. I am scared that making money is more important than saving lives. I am scared that education is being sacrificed to cut deficits, but taxation is not considered because the ultra-rich are willing to pay millions in lobbying rather than pay taxes to cover education.
I believe we are better off living in a society and by doing so are responsible for each other. I don't like it when people do nothing and get a check because I work hard. But I don't believe all people are like that. No child deserves to go hungry. No mother should have to chose between seeing their children grow and putting food on the table for them. We will only continue to lose our grip on power in this world if all our children are not given the chance to succeed, if they are all not fed, and if they are all not provided healthcare. I don't understand why our priority is on lowering taxes and not on future generations. Without the children, none of this matters.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Smokers Need Not Apply
Just read that a local hospital is refusing to hire smokers and is requiring nicotine tests before hiring. In the interest of seeing whether this is a new or a trend, I searched the web. Apparently, hospitals are refusing to hire smokers all over. The theory is to promote a healthy atmosphere and to save on healthcare costs.
Perhaps its the pessimist in me, but I wonder if this is an across the board decision or only going to work against the lower level employees? Are hospitals truly willing to forgo hiring the hot shot surgeon or specialist to head up a lucrative department simply because she or he smokes? Perhaps I'm jaded, but I've seen a ton of doctors who smoke and I've also seen hospitals only care about the bottom line. I don't believe any hospital would choose not to hire the hot shot doc.
Perhaps its the pessimist in me, but I wonder if this is an across the board decision or only going to work against the lower level employees? Are hospitals truly willing to forgo hiring the hot shot surgeon or specialist to head up a lucrative department simply because she or he smokes? Perhaps I'm jaded, but I've seen a ton of doctors who smoke and I've also seen hospitals only care about the bottom line. I don't believe any hospital would choose not to hire the hot shot doc.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
One of Those Weeks
This has been one of those weeks that I wonder how can I continue. Something has got to give. And it has. Once again, my health gave away. I've been sick the last two days. That is my trade off. I raise two kids, maintain a marriage, work as a full time litigation attorney, keep a house, yada, yada, yada, but there are only so many hours in a day, so I don't exercise as much as I should. I don't spend the time that a truly healthy diet requires. I get warn down from lack of sleep. And I get sick. Frequently.
My health is the part of me that people don't see or pay attention to or discuss with me when they look at our life. I don't see how it can be missed. I am a short, very round woman. To me, my health (or lack thereof) screams itself known as soon as I walk in the room. I've aged at least 10 years in appearance over the last three years. (I was looking at pictures of TRex's 1st birthday this morning. I looked soooooo much younger.) I don't want this for myself, but we are still in survival mode. We are working day to day, just trying to stay over the water. That doesn't leave time or energy for more.
Yet, one of the most common things that I am told by people is "I couldn't do it." People frequently tell me this after asking about the Dancing Queen or learning we've been in the hospital again or just hearing what is on my plate (even other heart moms who know I work full time or know I am an attorney). I guess they don't link my flabby exterior to everything else I have on my plate.
I have two regular responses to this statement: (1) "Yes, you could. It's what any good parent would do." (2) "I have no choice." In my head though, I'm yelling: "Give me a break! You mean 'thank goodness I don't have to do what you do.'" Perhaps that is pessimistic of me, but I don't believe my family is all that different from any other family, except we won the lottery of bad luck.
There is no known cause for the Dancing Queen's chromosomal abnormality and while it is likely that her heart defects are caused by the chromosomal abnormality, nobody knows for sure. I did everything I was supposed to do. I stopped drinking and caffeine before I started to try getting pregnant. I was on pre-natal vitamins before. I didn't eat soft cheeses, lunch meat, tuna, canned foods, etc. I didn't smoke and I would leave the room if someone else was smoking. I did a ton more, but can't remember now (probably cause I am sick). But the point is, it happened and we are stuck with it and we do what we must because there is no other choice and there never has been. This is my family and I will make it work because it has to.
Since I have a hard time not being accurate when I write, there is one caveat to the penultimate sentence of this post. Technically, we were given the choice of all choices when we learned of the Dancing Queen's conditions in utero. However, to us, there was never a choice to not protect our baby, but that is a post for a different time.
My health is the part of me that people don't see or pay attention to or discuss with me when they look at our life. I don't see how it can be missed. I am a short, very round woman. To me, my health (or lack thereof) screams itself known as soon as I walk in the room. I've aged at least 10 years in appearance over the last three years. (I was looking at pictures of TRex's 1st birthday this morning. I looked soooooo much younger.) I don't want this for myself, but we are still in survival mode. We are working day to day, just trying to stay over the water. That doesn't leave time or energy for more.
Yet, one of the most common things that I am told by people is "I couldn't do it." People frequently tell me this after asking about the Dancing Queen or learning we've been in the hospital again or just hearing what is on my plate (even other heart moms who know I work full time or know I am an attorney). I guess they don't link my flabby exterior to everything else I have on my plate.
I have two regular responses to this statement: (1) "Yes, you could. It's what any good parent would do." (2) "I have no choice." In my head though, I'm yelling: "Give me a break! You mean 'thank goodness I don't have to do what you do.'" Perhaps that is pessimistic of me, but I don't believe my family is all that different from any other family, except we won the lottery of bad luck.
There is no known cause for the Dancing Queen's chromosomal abnormality and while it is likely that her heart defects are caused by the chromosomal abnormality, nobody knows for sure. I did everything I was supposed to do. I stopped drinking and caffeine before I started to try getting pregnant. I was on pre-natal vitamins before. I didn't eat soft cheeses, lunch meat, tuna, canned foods, etc. I didn't smoke and I would leave the room if someone else was smoking. I did a ton more, but can't remember now (probably cause I am sick). But the point is, it happened and we are stuck with it and we do what we must because there is no other choice and there never has been. This is my family and I will make it work because it has to.
______________________________________
Since I have a hard time not being accurate when I write, there is one caveat to the penultimate sentence of this post. Technically, we were given the choice of all choices when we learned of the Dancing Queen's conditions in utero. However, to us, there was never a choice to not protect our baby, but that is a post for a different time.
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