viral meningitis and a migraine

Recently voted worst reason to spend a week off work, in our house at least.

The good news is I got the opportunity to watch the first two seasons of Dexter and the first season of 24 on Netflix instant play. The bad news is I'm looking over my shoulder for serial killers and I may never trust my co-workers again.

I've never had a migraine before. The doctor suspects it was triggered by the meningitis so hopefully I'll never have one again, either. It turns out that while Hand Foot Mouth (Elliot was sent home sick from school last week and this was circulating his classroom - did I mention that before?) is rarely transferred to adults with its fidelity intact, the virus that causes it can get into your system and manifest itself as viral meningitis instead. There are also a series of nasty "echoviruses" that troll around in the late summer looking for people to deliver meningitis to. Ah, the things I have learned in my doctors office lately. Regardless of cause, the end result is OhmygodIhavebeensofreakingsick.

I'm attempting some upright time today. Cross your fingers for me.

hot under the collar

We're starting an FSA program at work that includes dependent care expenses. M already has one but she wasn't a legal guardian for E at the time of her last open enrollment and we didn't get our act together to start it up during the 30 days after the adoption so we've been waiting for her next open enrollment period to come around. Now I have the option of setting aside $5000 pre-tax for daycare. This is great, except that it means we have to make a decision. An infuriating, insulting decision. Which of us will claim E on our taxes this year? Because only one of us can, and unlike what we do with our mortgage every year (plug it into both of our tax returns to see who it helps more before deciding who claims it), we have to decide this right now.

Please excuse me while I lose my shit for a moment...

[Edited 30 minutes later to say... Never mind. Lost my nerve already. Actually, I just have a very sick little boy and what is likely to be a long, worried night ahead of me and I'm not in the mood for any blog drama this rant might have sparked. I saved the original post in my drafts, so maybe I'll post it again another time.]

I'm totally going to come back and delete the above once I cool off. I get that rage like that will only serve to divide us further and it's not representative of how I feel on a day to day basis. I just felt so separate and so unequal and so very angry sitting in my office FSA presentation. It was just a little more than I could bear so you get my vent.

On a more practical note, anyone have tips as to which of us should claim him? Is the general rule to go with the higher income parent or am I making that up? Also, anyone knowledgeable about dependent care FSAs versus child care tax credits and which is likely to benefit us more? Maybe we should skip the FSA business altogether? I'm totally in over my head on this stuff.

Oh and while I'm venting:  Dear Japanese spammers, would you PLEASE go haunt someone else's blog for a while? I'm so sick of deleting your comments. I'd hate to go to comment moderation but I'm starting to think it's the best option, at least for a while. Lame.

chatterbox

Elliot's 17-month "birthday" shall henceforth be known as The Milemarker at Which His Speech Exploded. I don't think I posted about this here (defensive much?) but at E's 12 month check-up, E's doctor suggested that he might be speech-delayed. I had asked her about the follow-up hearing test that was recommended on his Special Care discharge papers due to the ototoxic effects of the antibiotic they gave him via IV for the first week of his life. (Gah!!) The doctor agreed to order it, followed with the comment "It's probably a good idea anyway because of his speech delays." This was the first she'd said of it and I was so caught off guard, I didn't even question her about it. She'd asked a few questions earlier about what he was and wasn't saying but hadn't given any indication she didn't like my answers until then. Anyway, he had the hearing test about a month later and to the extent that they can test a 12-month old, he passed meaning he should not have any difficulty acquiring language.

So, we cruised along for a while, picking up a word here and a word there, and then during the last couple of weeks, E started not only repeating every single thing we say, but remembering the words and using them at other times. I realized last week that we are on the cusp of a phase where I won't even be able to keep track of all the words he uses. I was home with him most of last week so it gave me a good chance to keep track of everything he's saying, so here it is, the last word list I intend to make. :-)

Words Elliot uses correctly at 17 months:
balloon
flower
apple
water
juice
milk
bee
bird
dog
kitty
ball
banana
choo-choo
car
truck
bus
bunny
baby
mine (love this one)
hi
bye bye
star
sun
bubble
no
yellow
shoe
bottle
light
nose
frog
butterfly
chair
rock
beep beep
hooray
ta-da
whoa
He also does the animal sounds for cow, sheep, duck, horse, lion and dog (almost).

There are a handful (okay, a lot) of these you'd have no chance of identifying the first time you heard them (i.e. bunny = muh-nah, butterfly = buh-fye, flower = vow-ah). We recognize these words because we hear them consistently (usually in conjunction with him pointing at the object to name it), but he's not ready to use them on the debate team or anything. :-)

He's also been saying "la-loo" for the last few days but we haven't been able to figure out what word it is... until this morning when M correctly identified it as hello.

I know the light switch flips for kids at different times and 17 months seems to be ours. It's really exciting, especially after going through that speech-delay silliness a few months back.

a tip and a story

You should totally enter this giveaway! I am not entering because I have a personal connection to the business owner and I know their goal is to find new customers, but I would love for one of those new customers to be one of my blog friends! Hurry, because today is the last day to enter.

I blogged about these shoes before here and 7 months later with more walking time under E's belt, I love them all the more. It turns out that E has ridiculously wide feet. I have no idea where they came from. (Lie. I totally do: Me.) After our first attempt to branch out into other wide-width brands (Stride Rite XW velcro-closure sandals) yielded pressure marks and scratches on E's uber-chubby feet, we realized we were "stuck" with S.oft St.ars for the forseeable future. They are expensive, but (1) they are comparable in price to the Stride Rites we bought and (2) they are handmade by an independently-owned, earth-friendly small business and (3) they are seriously built to last. All of E's SSs have held up WAY better than the Stride Rites, and he wears them 10x as often. They offer a line of less expensive pre-made shoes, but if you have a hard to fit foot, a creative streak, or both, you can design your own shoes down to the last itty-bitty detail for a few more dollars. We send E's foot measurements in with our order (they have a video on their site showing how to get these) and they use them to make sure we get a perfect fit. I can't say enough good things about them.

And the story... M just called to check in from her mom's birthday party. It sounds like E is behaving himself and everyone is having a great time. However, her father is apparently telling everyone that Elliot "looks just like his dad!" Hmm, there seems to have been a Message Fail somewhere along the line. Note to selves: Have a chat with Grandpa about Elliot's lack of a "dad" before E is old enough to know what he's talking about.

p.s. Let me know if you win some shoes! ;-)

life in mono

I’ve been working on a big project lately that is a total time-suck. It’s in its final week and I’m logging an unprecedented number of hours per day but I’m in the home stretch. I can’t wait to get back to my normal life. As strange as this sounds, I’m surprised by just how much I miss my family.

M and I both work 20 minutes from our house, but in opposite directions, and since the daycare is less than a mile from my office, I generally handle all daycare pick up and drop off duties. My schedule is so crazy this week that M is picking E up every day. This means that instead of my normal routine of grabbing the kid and speeding home with him to drop him off and inhale a quick bite before racing right back to the same neighborhood I just came from, I get to choose a place to eat some dinner and kill an hour between obligations – no commute and no indigestion. I thought I’d appreciate the mini-vacation, but it turns out I really miss picking E up at school. He’s in bed before I get home which means the only time I’m seeing him this week is for the hour or so that we’re getting ready in the mornings, and any parent can tell you that is usually NOT quality time!

Add to this that M is taking E to visit her family at the end of this week. They’ll be gone Friday through Tuesday. When we planned the trip, it seemed like a great idea – M’s mom is celebrating her 70th birthday and not only can I not go (recall the big project), but I’ll be crazy busy all day Friday and Saturday (recall the big project) so M and E would be on their own anyway. Escaping to a temperate beach climate with M’s family seemed like a no-brainer. I thought it would be good for me, too. I was secretly reveling in the thought of full nights of sleep, long showers, leaving for work in the morning with only my own belongings, going out for a guilt-free celebration with friends after our project wraps up on Saturday night, and spending all day Sunday on the couch in my PJs. Now the trip is upon us, coming right off a week with no time with my little man, and I’d trade all of those things to keep them home.

I’m not sure how to explain this without sounding like a bad mom, but here it is: After 16.5 months of parenting with the demands of maintaining full-time employment and no family around for respite, I thought having a few hours (this week) followed by a few days (this weekend) “off duty” would be a welcome change. I really didn’t think I’d miss E too much. I mean, I see him all the time! It would be like a little retreat to my carefree, self-absorbed, pre-baby days! Boy was I ever wrong. I’m only on Day #2 of M picking E up from school and I’m already contemplating sneaking over there after work to steal a quick cuddle.

I realize now that I’ve become a little jaded. When we were working (and working and working) to bring E into the world, I thought I’d be unconditionally grateful for every sleepless night, every dirty diaper, and every temper tantrum until the end of time, should we ever be lucky enough to encounter those things. But that’s not realistic. It never was. That was just my infertility-damaged soul making promises it could never keep. The reality is that the sleep deprivation and the endless cycle of divining and meeting a little human’s needs is draining, and sometimes it makes you wish for a break – just a few days to catch your breath and remember that you yourself are a human with needs. Or at least it made me wish for this. It turns out the break isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

I have only been away from Elliot for two single overnights since he was born – both under 24 hours. It’s going to be a long, lonely 5 days. :-(

"my car"

Guess who said this in our living room yesterday morning?

Two words! Used together and in context! Woot!  :-)

a new kind of all-nighter

This post may resemble complaining, but it's not. I LOVE being awake for 90% of the time between 12am and 6:30am with my molar-sprouting son! M and I are thoroughly enjoying the fact that for the past week or more (I'm in such a state of euphoria, I've lost track) we have had the opportunity to bond with our screaming, writhing, discontent child for 1-2 hours at a time, and we only have to miss him for a quick 30-45 minute snooze before it starts again. It's been just like having a newborn again so, you know, it's all-around awesome. Good for our mental health, our productivity at work, and of course our relationship in general.

Last night I decided to try giving him alternating doses of tylenol and motrin in his sleep. We did one "dream dose" around 11pm. This bought us a couple hours more than we'd been getting and I set an alarm for a 2am dose, but alas, he woke screaming at 1:50am. One top molar is in and I can feel both bottom ones below the gum. No sign of the fourth one yet. This morning was just one long meltdown from the moment he woke up until we pulled out of the driveway. The cumulative sleep deprivation is obviously getting to him, too.

When I dropped him off at daycare, I told his teacher he'd been inconsolable all morning and I hoped things would go better for her. No sooner did I finish the sentence than I turned to see he'd pulled a book off the shelf and was sitting on his own, quietly and contentedly "reading" it to himself. His teacher said that he'd spent the whole previous day doing much of the same. This kid is usually a whirlwind at daycare but he obviously feels the need for some downtime. Kids' intuitive self-care is amazing sometimes.

this and that

I'm here with a belated thank you to everyone who talked me off the ledge after my last post. I'll fill you in on how the story ended: My friend and I discussed the situation very briefly during the only time we saw each other (a couple of days later) but I was still too bound up emotionally to express much of anything. Then she went out of town for a few days. When she returned, I brought it up again and confessed that my feelings were hurt that we talk so openly about so much and yet she'd kept this from me, and also that I knew I was probably being paranoid, but I was worried about what her keeping it from me meant in the grand scheme of things. She swore up and down that it meant nothing; that she hadn't had a chance to tell anyone about it before her friend (now business partner) launched their website, not even her husband. I'm choosing to believe her because she's a good friend and I want to be over this. Here's hoping I'm not about to be knocked out by the Other Shoe on it's way down.

Honestly, the situation was eclipsed by a bigger, scarier WTF, but I'm filing it in the unbloggable folder for now. Mostly because I'd like my blog to be something other than long periods of neglect punctuated by complaints. Bor-ring.

So in the yay column: Elliot rocks my world. I realize I've said this every month since, like, month 5 but... 16 months old is totally my favorite time!! His sense of humor is really starting to come out and he's just so darn sweet, when he's not throwing himself on the floor and screaming until he can't breathe, but as long as I'm in the right mood, I even find that kind of cute. (C'mon, how do you not laugh when a child acts like you've removed a limb without anesthesia because you tell him he can't wear your adult-sized shoes to school?) M teases him about his low standards because he pronounces "Ta Da!" at full volume and thrusts both arms out to the side when he does something as impressive as stack a single block on top of another. He can point out his eyes, ears, nose, mouth, chin, head and tummy and tell us what a cow, sheep or duck says. Oh, and a rooster, if you count "doo-d'doo," which we do, because we have low standards too. :-) He's just a cool little dude.

Oh, this is sort of old news but I don't think I've posted this here before: I LOVE that he can walk. More experienced moms had me all freaked out about the walking stage: "Oh, you think he's tough now. Just wait until he's walking!" and "Don't encourage him to walk. He'll do it soon enough on his own and then you'll be in a world of trouble!" Well I'm here to file a complaint against that craziness. Stationary to crawling was a much bigger adjustment. I don't think he moves any faster walking than he did crawling but (a) I don't have to worry about his hands and knees getting dirty and/or torn up on questionable surfaces and (b) he can actually cover ground on his own now which is helpful if we need or want him to and (c) it makes him happy. He can get things for himself now which makes it easier to meet his needs than ever before. Sure we have to chase him around, but we were doing that when he was crawling and we weren't enjoying any of the "trade off" benefits of his independent ambulation. It's nice that when my arms are full of crap in the morning, we can make a single trip to the car because he can get there on his own two feet. It's nice that we can ask him to go get a pair of shoes from his room and he does it. We play the "take this to your Mom" game all the time - cute and functional. All this is to say that walking is good stuff in my book, so if you've had people tell you otherwise, please add these two cents to the mix.

It's been ages since I posted any pictures, so here are a few so you can see what a KID he's turned into lately:

most recent "bear" pic - 16 months

Fourth of July

last pro photo session - 15 months

When will it ever end?

I'm not going to waste your time with the details. The nutshell version is that my closest local friend who was also my doula during E's birth launched a major pregnancy/birth-related project, obviously several months if not years in the making, and I heard about it through someone else. On Fac.ebook, of all places, when I was asked to "like" said project's page.

I'm also not going to waste your time with the freaking dissertation I could write about all the many ways this has ruined my night*. Poor M got an itemized list over dinner. Know that they are plentiful. And know that at least 90% of them are self-absorbed, infertility-and-traumatic-birth-scarred bullshit**. I know this, and yet I can't turn them off.

I have M as a barometer for how a normal, rational person should respond to this situation, and compared to her, I am like some kind of sad, deranged narcissist.

I have been feeling really proud of myself lately - like I might finally be getting a little distance and perspective. Apparently not. I guess I just needed the right trigger to be right back where I started.

No, that's not fair to say. I'm not back where I once was. I don't view every pregnant belly as part of a conspiracy and I have ventured back into certain physical and online spaces I had to stay away from for a long time. I'm better than I was. I guess that makes it all the more surprising (and infuriating) when something so minor can unleash this torrent of sadness and disappointment and frustration.

I just want to be a normal person with normal emotional responses to life. I'm so, so sick of this twisted gift that keeps on giving. I know you all are too, which is why I'm here. I just need to vent to some people who get it, so thanks for listening.

*Here's one weird one, though - perhaps you can help me with it: One of the things that is most upsetting to me is the fact that I can't figure out why she wouldn't tell me. It makes me feel left-out; it makes me feel stupid for not being able to see whatever it is; and it makes me feel nervous and defensive - like whatever I'm missing is going to come crashing down on my head at any second. There is some Reason X why she didn't think I could handle the information or she didn't trust me with it or she didn't value me enough to share it or something else I haven't even considered. Whatever it is, it ain't good. I feel lame for being so upset over something I can't even define, but the fact I can't define it is kind of the point. Not only was I kept in the dark, I'm still there in a way. Any insights to normalize or clarify this jumble would be appreciated.

**10% have nothing to do with anything infertility- or pregnancy- or baby-related and are just plain old hurt feelings at being left out. I literally talk to this woman for several hours every single weekday, and many weekends, too. We talk about anything and everything, or so I thought. But I know that even those feelings are tinted by my residual hurt feelings at being blindsided by her pregnancy announcement, which brings us back to... you get the picture.

with butterfly wings

Disclaimer: I wrote the bulk of this post on 6/5/10, which is like 2 years ago in baby time. I am just now getting back to it to it. So it goes.

I have about a dozen things to write about, all of which could be posts unto themselves but they won't for lack of time so you get bullets.

• Elliot is at a freaking awesome stage right now. He is picking up new actions, words and skills by the minute - literally. He learned "uh oh" last weekend and now stops at nothing to create situations in which he can use his new word. He has become pretty adept at copying our actions. The other night, I was cutting up strawberries for him and I stuck one of my fingers in my mouth to lick off the juice, then pulled it out with a smack of my lips. Guess what Elliot's new favorite trick is? (It's way cuter when an almost-15 month old does it.) M brought home a new set of hand weights and he's obsessed. He watched her do a bicep curl and now tries to imitate it (as best one can when lifting roughly 1/12 of one's body weight), complete with a dramatic exhale at the top. He has decided through no prompting of ours that a certain large, heavy blanket is his "ring-around-the-rosie blanket" and he won't perform unless he's standing on top of it. In fact, if we start singing the song and the blanket isn't down, he'll go to the basket it's in and heave it out for us. I gave him a bite of a chocolate truffle and he clapped his hands and said "Mmmmm!" He is crazy good at sucking his cheeks in for a fish face and he's all about the hugs and kisses right now.
• Elliot is at a freaking challenging stage right now. Tooth #7 is newly in and we're waiting on... lord knows what. First I thought molars. Then I thought tooth #8. Now I've decided there's a submarine periscope trying to push it's way through. All I know is that teeth 1 through 6 weren't nearly this traumatic and if we ALL don't start sleeping better, none of us are going to make it out alive. Then there's the biting. We've asked the pediatrician for biting cessation tips on our last several visits as this has been going on - to some extent - for months. Each time she tells us the same thing - firmly tell him no and put him down - but it hasn't worked yet. This latest round of teething has catapulted his bad habit to new heights. The other day, I picked him up at daycare a little early and he was sequestered in a crib "to give the other kids a break from him." I'll admit to being a little miffed... until I saw the face of the little girl he bit. The poor kid had a puffy blood blister on her cheek where our little monster had clamped down. Nothing like that experience to ruin an afternoon. Any tips to stop the biting are more than welcome.
• Speaking of daycare, I'm not quite as over the moon with E's daycare now that he's moved into the toddler room. I used to feel like we'd won the lottery in finding the best daycare in the world and now I realize it was just the infant room, not the whole center. Where he is now is more like "slightly-above-average" which is still plenty to be grateful for. I really like his main teacher, but she leaves about an hour and a half before I pick him up and I'm less enamored with the care he's left in during that time. No serious concerns - just noting a difference. Wow, this is a useless bullet. Nothing to see here, folks. My apologies.
• Also speaking of daycare, M and E are both down with a nasty cold this weekend, courtesy of Elliot's classmate Charlie. Thanks, Charlie! Fortunately, they taught him to blow his own nose at daycare, too. He's really good at it. Maybe better than I am. Edited to add: That "cold" morphed into a double ear infection for E and tonsilitis for me and it knocked our entire house flat on its @ss for two solid weeks, hence the delay between writing and publishing.
• M and I are a week into Jilli.an Mic.haels' 30-day Sh.red. That #$*@ is hard.
• Oh, Elliot has another cool trick: He uses the clicker on my keychain to make the car horn honk repeatedly in the driveway! I'm sure our neighbors are loving it. He also pops the tailgate 9 out of 10 times, so our new morning routine involves me getting halfway out of the driveway before noticing the dashboard indicator is on and hopping out to re-latch the tailgate. If only I could catch on to things as quickly as he can.
• And one more: If he gets his feet onto the tile or hardwood during his evening naked time, he creates his own personal slip n' slide... with his pee. No joke. The first time we thought it was a fluke, and it probably was, but now that he's discovered how much fun it is, he does it frequently and at will. First he makes the puddle, then he lays down in it on his belly and splashes and spins around, laughing hysterically the whole time while we curse and run for towels. I am fully aware that this peeing-on-command business is going to help us when it comes to potty-training time. I just have to figure out how to channel it...
• My co-worker salvaged a little red convertible from the dumster behind her apartment building and she gave it to E, who thinks it's the Best Thing Ever. Witness:

• I have another cloth diaper post brewing. It's a post-script to my previous post. The last few months have seen some changes in my opinions on things. I've typed and retyped a bunch of things here but deleted them all, so I'm going to leave it at that until I have a chance to think through what I want to say a bit more. Rest assured that I love cloth-diapering as much as before, if not more, and I'm still so glad we went that route!
• June marks the two year anniversary of our successful IVF cycle. It feels like much less time has passed, and somehow, much more, too.

I don't know why I've been such a crappy blogger lately. I think I'm mostly just tired. I'm still not 100% well and I'm in the middle of an extra-curricular project that consumes my weeknights and will continue to do so until mid-August. I miss blogging, though. I miss knowing that no matter how hectic things are, I'm creating an archive I can look back on to remember this blur my life has become. Just some thoughts - neither here nor there, I guess.