March, I’m done with ya
Carl’s grandmother died on the weekend, which was unexpected in the short term but she was getting on. However now he is going out west for the funeral, so we have to juggle that this week.
Man this has been a really, really hard month in many ways.
Virtual chocolate accepted.
Protected: Work foo - pwd is same as our dragon’s name
Week from hell!!!
This will be one of those weeks you look back at and say “God, how’d we do it?”
Saturday Noah had a bit of a fever and Sunday I did take him to the clinic. I got the hairy eyeball about it, because Noah was pleasant and chatting and cheery… until the doctor took his temperature which was over 104 degrees. Soon he was diagnosed with strep throat and put on Biaxin. (Noah’s allergic to penicillin, at least we think so as he reacted when I had some when I had mastitis, and that was a tiny tiny dose, so we have it all over his charts and Do Not Mess Around with it.)
I hemmed and hawed. My MIL was here, and Carl had Monday off already, so I went to Montreal Mon and Tues for work as planned. I cannot really say more and not be potentially Doocing myself but I may write a locked entry about it.
It was stressful, and not because there was work to do. I did get a nice room upgrade which I might’ve enjoyed more had my coworker not taken this opportunity to try to get us to bond, so I wasn’t IN my room enough hours. I did get a bath though and a whole night’s sleep. But I missed Noah SO badly. And I was worried about him. And he cried for me at 2:30 I was told. I’d blather on about how I don’t really think it is great to leave one’s toddler but I did anyway, except that’s a good summary.
And Noah really is fine with Carl. Actually Carl was a simply AMAZING parent this whole week. As usual but he really took the stay home role. My MIL stayed another day, which was also amaaaazing. And my parents helped out. Our community worked. It was really nice.
Got home to find Noah really sick still though. Really sick. He’d been to our family doctor who thought it was not strep but an ear infection, and prescribed an alternative antibiotic but she suggested waiting to fill it until wed both to give the Biaxin more time and because 10% of ppl who are allergic to penicillin react to the new drug. But at this point and since Sun night really, he was hitting 104 as the fever meds wore off every time, and that is on an alternating Tylenol-Motrin schedule so that some med was given every 3 hrs.
Wed I had to go to work to deliver very bad news (mine, but not anything I could control), so I felt I had to go in person, but Carl had taken Tues off as well. So he worked from home and my parents helped out for most of my half-day at work. Wed night though we just could not keep Noah’s fever down even with baths so ended up in emerg at 2 am, where the fever promptly dropped a little. It was not a happy trip though. The dr there recommended sticking with Biaxin so we did for one more round Thurs morning. He also confirmed both the ear and the strep, so Noah had both.
After going to the hospital I was wide awake with terror so I got the first look at my project to test and it was not happy testing, but sending the email at 4 am was pretty impressive looking.
I stayed home Thurs. and Carl worked from home too and we played pass the baby around between conference calls. Noah was a brick but he was starting to lose it at this point. I learned a lot about my son and about, I think, me. He is an amazing stoic. I suddenly understood that some of the illness in my childhood really was what my parents described: I would seem fine, and then suddenly be in hospital with massive pneumonia. It’s just that now that I know this about Noah, as soon as he seems a little sick, I will take him in right away.
Anyways so Thurs afternoon and night were not good. We finally made the decision to switch antibiotics in the afternoon, so I was terrified about anaphylactic shock. Many childhood things do not scare me, but that one does, because of Emily and oxygen and the way there just isn’t time to react if someone has that kind of reaction. But so far so good, knock on wood.
But fever wise, same thing. Today Carl was able to watch him with some help from my mum and I went in for a day of tense executive decision making resulting in a delay, which helps ’cause I was scheduled to work all weekend. But all the stress together plus no sleep (less than 3 hrs/night) made me punchy and I was a little more direct (err me) than I usually am at work. It’s okay though; I’d rather die on that hill than not have communicated what needed to be said.
I couldn’t (still can’t) sleep in part because I just feel like I have to be awake checking on Noah. That is very definitely half normal, half Emily stuff. I also have such a deep distrust of all doctors. I mean we have seen 3 in 7 days and each one has in their own way said “try to keep the fever down, wait for the antibiotics to work, he is not dying” and I have felt “NO NO NO DO SOMETHING AAAAUGH.” So high alert and no sleep.
Carl also took Noah back to the dr because Noah was swallowing a lot and see above, allergic reaction. It turned out that in the midst of this strep throat the child has a canker sore. God. Anyways, finally, FINALLY the antibiotics seem to be kicking in and he actually went 7 hrs just now between pain meds before the fever started to hit 102 again. But he is still a very sick little boy and I am not thinking about work at all this weekend but just loving on him.
Of course now I am worried that all this means he has some horrid autoimmune thing or cancer or whatever. When probably in all honesty it’s that we took him swimming at the Briars while he had a cold, which probably started something off like the ear and then the rest got going. Still I will be watching it.
Also each doctor not our own commented on how prominent his heart murmur was. They are more prominent in sick children, but I think I might get it checked out again anyways.
I know I sound a bit detached in this post with all the work while my kid was sick, but the thing was this was THE critical week. (At least until today’s decision.) But I would still have blown it off were it not for Carl, and Carl very simply at this point is just as good as me at parenting. I truly felt Noah was just as loved, comforted, comfortable, and well cared for if Carl was here while I worked as he would be if Carl were working and I were here. And Carl was able to take the time. So there it was. I suppose I will now lose my uterus to our societal pack of hyenas but that just - how it is.
However when I got home today Noah ran up and said: I am SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU Mummy. I say this to him every day but today he said it to me. Wow. Guilt and overwhelming joy all mixed up.
Now I’m going to go collapse somewhere.
Update (Sat): He is a little better but not like the antiobiotics killed the bug or whatever. Poor guy. But he is noticeably better, so that’s good.
Happy Easter
Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate it in whatever way. This year we opted to celebrate it more on the spring/fertility side and less on the Christian: we decorated eggs yesterday and had chocolates in baskets this morning. Carl was in charge of the easter egg hunt and he… hid the hard-boiled eggs we had decorated. We have found 7/12 so far. I am nervous, I tell you, nervous.
It takes a man to hide REAL, PERISHABLE eggs. And leave the chocolate eggs designed for the hunt on the counter.
One amusing moment: Lynn, who has a hard time over Easter in various ways, was dealing this year through humour (!!!) and sat down with Noah at one point when he was saying “why?” “Why Easter?” he said. Lynn said, “Because Easter is the time that some believe that theirlordandsaviourlordjesuschristdiedfortheir sinssotheymighthavelifeeverlasting.” (She canted that whole sentence in a pseudo-religious tone.) Noah looked up at her and cracked up and said “booga blah bloobah” or something like that and then they both sat there talking nonsense and laughing for about ten minutes.
Can I just say: therapy works? Therapy works!
Although I do wonder a bit about this whole, you know, introducing one’s child to some kind of moral and ethical base thing at some point. Because so far in our house, we don’t seem to be doing a great job making any decisions about this, and as touching as it is that Lynn can share these things, I’m not really sure I’m comfortable with our religion being “fondly making fun of Christians.” Y’know? It’s not respectful.
On that topic I had a very very long dream last night that was like, the dark DaVinci code: someone was Out To Get our innocent crew of heroes (dishelved looking touristy sorts) and they discovered ancient stairwells in a cathedral that led to a sort of basement of horrors: grime covered cement hallways with lethal “surprises” in the best psychopathic traditions. It went on and on and people died and terror was felt until, at the end, it turned out that it was God who was out to get all the followers of Jesus. So Jesus showed up at the end and God had to leave everyone alone (until the sequel) Because God and Jesus had had a war for the Earth and Jesus sort-of lost by being, you know, crucified. But then people’s faith in him vs. the old-Testament God was upsetting God, so God was basically lurking in wait to get people. And then that faith let Jesus win, this round. Wait for Easter II: Deathmatch!
That was straight out of Lynn stuff, but I was dreaming it. I haven’t said for a while, but sharing parenting and everything definitely has continued to open communication up among the system. I’m still pretty certain full integration is not an option (even if we wanted to), but we’re in concert more than I would ever have thought would be possible, much of the time. I think that it’s almost like a critical mass of experience is coming together: we spent 20-some years split off from each other, 5 of confusion, and 10 starting to work together (to round the numbers a bit).
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On the down and triggery side, Noah is sick and rapidly approaching Sick. I actually opened the computer to check on clinic hours as his fever didn’t even go down for this morning. He’s cheery and alert… and had a fever of 103.5 at 7 am (motrin had worn off around 5, I’m guessing, from when the last dose was). This is the third day and I’m worried. We were sick most Easters and all Christmases and everyone is sad Noah is sick for this one.
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The crucifixion of Jesus really is probably the biggest sticking point between us and Christianity in general. I think we’re pretty much at Noah’s level on it: Why? Why would that even be necessary? Christians, don’t come and try to inform me, ’cause I have read and thought on it a lot and consulted Catholic priests, Jehovah’s witnesses, Mormons, Presbyterians, and a host of writers and philosophers on it. It’s not that I don’t understand the concepts intellectually. I just find it difficult as a model. I sort of like Buddha under the tree better.
The Briars IV
We had a very relaxing time. There was lots of snow this year, but we pretty much stuck to the usual: swim, walk around, read lots, watch junk television, eat good food that miraculously arrives, and cry.
The one exception was that I took Noah on a horse-drawn sleigh ride through the woods. Err, not alone, there were about 10 people in the sleigh and two very beautiful bay horses pulling the thing. But between Noah and I it was like it was just us. I remembered that my grandfather (the bad one) had a sleigh and he used to sometimes take us for rides by hitching it to his tractor, and it had much of the same qualities: a ride in the woods with bumps and making tracks. Those were not bad times; he had the capacity to make things very magical - a quality which sadly was also turned to evil at times. It was the good times that came to mind and Lynn whispered to Noah about the kinds of trees we were seeing; the woodpecker holes and the stumps and all of it, and that was not knowledge I knew she had. And it was good. Perhaps we will have to try joining in for other things in the future, if we go back. Which I hope we do.
Noah was a brick. Mealtimes were the most challenging times, but since breakfast and lunch were buffets we could load up plates and go, if necessary. We only made it through one dessert of a three-course dinner, but it was not really unpleasant to walk back to the room with Noah and the sweet stuff in hand. (This was mostly a bedtime issue; his cranky period just would hit before appetizer and entree were done.*)
He loved almost everything else. The pool, the halls, the novelty of living in one room with a television in it, the fireplaces and nooks and crannies. He cried leaving. But once we were home he was okay again.
The menu was slightly pared down in terms of number of dishes offered but the overall quality made up for it. I had a simply amazing duck breast over arugula that was to die for. **
There’s more but I’m tired.
The worst part was showing up at the cemetary to find Emily buried. Ha, ha, no, really, under a 5-ft snowdrift. We started digging her out but gave up as Noah was freaking out. So was I. It was just too symbolic and I realized you could not, never, ever dig far enough down, if you know what I mean. I prostrated myself on the grave and wept instead. I really did, because what else is the use of a 5 ft snowdrift if not to make some kind of ironic snow angel statement like that.
I am still SO ANGRY. That is tiring me too.
But the break was truly good. Refreshing. Except… oh yes this is amusing, my old boss was up there on the last day. Went round a corner and there he was! Grr. Of course this great article on his site put him up to the idea… so I have only my enthusiasm from last year to blame.
* And service there is inn-speed, which means this is about a 2-hr process start-finish. Noah is pretty well behaved and fairly accustomed to restaurants, but right now that’s just too long a stretch starting at 6 pm. Before anyone criticizes that, we’re good with it. He doesn’t yell, throw things, or run around; he just gets progressively more upset and asks to get down and sits under the table. We’re not really into trying to force this at this age. When he’s older yes, but right now when the sticker/drawing/reading/table play runs out, we’re all done.
** Noah did quite well with the food. He mostly preferred things that were relatively solo - broccoli & other vegetables, bread, beef tenderloin off our plates, fruit, etc. The kids’ buffet was nicely prepared but very traditional kids’ food - grilled cheese, breaded chicken, fries - and he wasn’t that into most of it, except the fries and we really didn’t want him eating fries every day. Anything with rice was pretty good, but sadly they had removed risotto from the menu and nothing came with rice pilaf or anything by default, so that was mostly buffet fare. The only thing we tried that really bombed was the sweet potato ravioli, where he liked the ravioli but if the goat cheese coated mushroom on top had touched anything he was not ok with it, and when we were taking that out goat cheese got into the sauce… ha.
Food plan
This week’s food plan is:
Tonight, Monday, Tuesday - eat whatever we can forage from the fridge to use it up before we go (on tap: squash, carrots, potatoes, eggs, cauliflower, cheese, lots of canned stuff).
Wed-Sun: Eat gourmet, thoughtfully selected, well made, beautifully presented dinners. For breakfast and lunch eat relatively thoughtfully selected buffet items, since during March Break the Briars goes buffet.
I like this plan, despite its costs. Did I mention that Carl got a surprise bonus at work nearly exactly the amount we were going to have to float? I cannot comment on a benevolent universe but it was definitely a nice coincidence.
I forgot to post last week’s plan but there was one. With notes:
Sat: Salmon, mashed potato, beet salad, eggplant - it was yummy, although we had peas instead of eggplant as the eggplant had unexpectedly gone mushy on one side.
Sun: Plan was for pea soup (froz from the week before) and quiche, to be borne to my mother’s home. But she decided she wanted Swiss Chalet, so we did that. A little grumpily.
Mon: Pea soup, scrambled eggs, peas, corn, salad.
Tues: Squash, potato, carrot, and sausage stew. Not much sausage, but enough to give it some flavour.
Wed: Salmon, rice & peas, broccoli.
Thurs: I was running late and Carl was out with friends so Noah and I sort of scavenged. He had orzo, tofu, and broccoli, and I had broccoli, stew, and bread.
Fri: English muffin pizzas, although the base was antipasto and not a traditional sauce, and chicken noodle soup. Noah selected the soup; the plan was going to be for pasta.
Sat: Beef, broccoli, kale, onion, pea, lentil, and rice mash/mess/fry/thingy.
I gave one squash away, there were two in the stew, and I have one remaining. Freezing the soup is a great idea Polly, the only problem being that my freezer is overly well endowed with frozen other leftover things from earlier. I think I’m going to have to learn to skip a week of delivery every so often (and indeed, am skipping this week as we’re away).
The body remembers
I’m not sure what to say right now. So randomness:
Things at my work are crazy from the minute I get in to the minute I leave and I have to work a bit at night too, just because of where we are in the project, and how people don’t seem to read documentation in advance. But also because I’ve held back in my planning to see if the launch date is real this time, which is my own thing.
I still am really liking it. Better yet I am getting on the book scene, in my professional capacity. While I don’t have TIME right now to really leverage this, it’s only a good.
There is still a piece of me that says when the site comes up, everyone will see how much I suck. And to some extent there’s a danger in that because moving a thing from potential to reality is that kind of gloss-removing process sometimes. But I am experienced, so I have to remember that.
Although sometimes when I have high-level meetings with the magazine people, I am reminded that I didn’t come up the ranks in a normal way and find weird gaps in my knowledge. Those moments both make me panic, and thrill me. They thrill me because that’s what I want to do, learn. Risk. All that. But then I freak out anyway. The good thing about being so busy is that I can only freak out for brief periods.
Regardless, I love the editorial discussions. I love them. Love. People like me. Sitting talking about stories. Love.
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Noah is his own special mixture of fear that I am failing him as a parent and wonderfulness. He is big into saying “I love you, X.” Like “I love you mommy.” Also, “I love you, teddy polar bear.” That’s to die for but I like the other side just as much in some ways. He tells me in fairly great detail every day at which points he missed me. “I cried at nap mummy because I was sad. ‘Cause I missed you.” I hate that he does, but that he tells me - can tell me, and does, both - is so amazing.
Although truth is of course fluid. Pretty much every day he has “soup” for lunch. The kind that is a tuna wrap with cucumber, for example. :)
Today we had a long discussion about dried up markers. It sounds dumb but just the thought that this kid who not so long ago did not know what his hands were is sitting there talking about how there is ink that dries up and the lids keep the markers wet enough to write is… so amazingly cool.
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I’ve had full body memories of labour in dreams all week. The feeling of Emily going back and forth over that spot where the cord was stopping her. The feeling of shoulders, butts, and legs slipping out. It’s been unpleasant. The worst dream so far was that Carl was driving, Noah was in the back, and I was in labour in the front and then had a baby whose bones were all broken and who was tiny, like a little wet bird, and we were trying to get to the hospital and Noah was crying and then the baby died.
Even when I have successfully got a life going that provides tons of “monkey mind” over my Emily memories, my body makes sure to remind me.
I am glad to be going away to the Briars. I need the downtime to reflect.