May 18, 2012

The one where I out myself

By phoebz4

No, not that way.

Here’s the deal – I’m a bit of a freakshow.

I mean that in the nicest, sweetest, most entertaining of ways.  But let’s be honest – I have issues. I have pretty baggage that coordinates, which I’ve collected over the years.  And I’m not talking about family – HA!

No, I have a collection of anxiety, depression, and a few phobias.  All of which I brushed off as “not that bad” until they became THAT bad.  Something about having a panic attack, where my face went numb and I couldn’t figure out how to breathe correctly led me finally to seek help, learn that what I was dealing with was actually huge, that I wasn’t just making stuff up, and hey, sometimes a little Prozac can be your friend.  Eventually, Prozac and I were able to part ways, and depression lifted, anxiety chilled out.

But I still have Issues.  Lovely, sparkly Issues.  Like anything to do with vomiting (heck, the word itself can make me feel queasy).  Or most recently – dental issues.

Yes, I have a Big Fat Fear of the dentist.  A fear that I know is a bit ridiculous.  I’ve always had great dentists – it was actually my orthodontist that caused me so much pain.  Especially with the hook.  Every damn visit, I’d end up with a hook in the gum.  To the point that I would wait for it, do my customary yelling of “Ow!” and he’d apologize and be more careful.  Then there was the day my eye tooth was in the way – so he moved it.  He physically moved it.  Do you know the nerve ending for that tooth runs up along the side of your nose and around your eye?  I didn’t either until that moment.

So yeah, I have well-earned fears about my teeth.  I avoided the dentist for most of my adult life until my back molar cracked.  I vowed to stop being a dumbass about not going to the dentist.  I also stopped drinking pop for the most part because of an acid chart in the dentist’s office.  Now when I drink a Coke, I am certain I can feel it eating away at the enamel.

Anyhoo – a couple weeks ago, I was eating a muffin, felt a bit of an “ow” and chewed on something not soft.  I was certain – CERTAIN – I had broken a tooth.  CERTAIN.  It made sense in my poor anxiety-riddled brain.  I mean, sure, I’d been to the dentist 6 months before, she looked over it all, did x-rays, all was well.  But I could be grinding my teeth at night for all I know and that’s why all my teeth are crumbling out of my mouth.

Of course, the right and proper thing to do in this situation…is panic and try to ignore the pain.  Some days it didn’t hurt, other days, it did.  Every day, I’d vow I’d call the dentist.  Every day, I’d conveniently forget that vow.  Some days, I had no pain and then think “Wow, my tooth doesn’t hurt” and instantly I could feel the nerve flare up.

Meanwhile, I was certain more pieces of tooth were trying to crumble off.  And I thought of my grandmothers, both long-lived ladies and wondered, if I’m not yet forty, and they lived to be 88 and 92, I’m going to have to spend the next 50 years worrying about these teeth!  What if they don’t last!  I should stop avoiding that phone call!

And then it’d be Friday afternoon – too late to do something.

Eventually, it got to be too much.  I finally got up one morning, and confessed to my husband that I needed to go to the dentist, then started crying…

Have I mentioned I have the best husband in the world?  Who offered to call the dentist, take me to the appointment, sat with me as the dentist checked out my teeth, called them all good, but mentioned a seed had gotten stuck way up there in my gums.

A seed.

All this for a seed.

This is where the rational side of my brain turns to the irrational side and says “You’re such a dork.”

So now, I’ve had that area flushed out and flossed intensely and flushed again with an antiseptic, have some specialized mouthwash to use for the next few days, and a new lipstick as a reward for being such a brave girl at the dentist.  Worst case scenario is that there is a small cavity or crack that they can’t see, if the pain persists, to just go back.  But he was pretty certain there was nothing wrong except a seed causing all sorts of inflammation and issues.

A seed.

And once again, the rational side of my brain is saying “See?  It wasn’t that bad.  It’s NEVER as bad as you think it’ll be.” ..as the irrational side of my brain mutters “feck off” under its breath and admits the rational side was right.

Secretly, my irrational side is relieved to know that my teeth aren’t all crumbling out of my mouth.  And once again, I’m vowing not to be so dorky about visiting the dentist.

 

 

13 comments   |  tags: , , | posted in blathering

May 17, 2012

Did you know…

By phoebz4

…that this week is the first ever International Cri-du-Chat Syndrome Awareness Week?

Well, I didn’t either until another blogging mama reached out to me and asked if I wouldn’t mind spreading the word about it.

Funny enough, I am aware of Cri-du-Chat Syndrome.  I first read about it during my stints reading the rare diseases database, while searching for a diagnosis for Maura.  It stuck with me because of the descriptor, how babies with this syndrome sound like little mewing cats.  Let me tell you, in the world of genetic syndromes, that one stood out to me.

So when asked to spread the word about this syndrome, to bring some more awareness to it, I said “Yes please!”

To read more about it, you can either click on the links already provided, or one of these below -

Five P Minus Society

Criduchat.org

Many thanks for taking the time to learn about this syndrome!

Leave a comment   |  tags: , , | posted in special needs

May 15, 2012

The why behind weight gain

By phoebz4

Last night, I read something that bothered me.  I won’t go into the details, but basically, it implied that people are fat because they eat too much.  It annoyed me enough that I went off about it to my husband, who said “Then blog about it.”

So that’s what I’m doing – blogging about it.  Why it annoyed me so much.

Now, I’m not ignorant – food can make you fat.  Lots of wrong food choices will make you put on weight.  I can get behind that.

But at the same time, it’s not food that makes you gain weight.  In many ways, it’s life that does it to you.

Case in point – I’m a good 50 pounds overweight.  According to the BMI, I’m Obese.  I hate the BMI by the way.  I think it’s a lousy scale, as it also tells me that my idea weight would start at like 100 pounds.

Now, how did I get to be 50 pounds over my ideal weight?  Not from stuffing Twinkies in my face morning, noon and night.  Nor was it from getting super-sized fast food meals every other day.

No, my weight gain was caused by depression and having learned the fine art of emotional eating and self-medicating with food. Throw four pregnancies with postpartum depression to help fill me out.  I didn’t gain the weight overnight.  It slowly crept on with the pregnancies, then exploded at the end with the depression.

This is someone who’s never dealt with depression or dealt with weight gain doesn’t get.  It doesn’t happen overnight.  It’s not always because of bad food choices at every meal.  It’s those moments in life, when you can barely keep breathing, and you stuff a candy bar in your mouth because for one moment, that candy bar makes you feel good. And then you go, try on clothes, have nothing fit, feel bad…so you soothe yourself with a bowl of ice cream.

It may not make sense to the naturally skinny, to those who’ve never struggled with depression.  But I’m also betting a lot of you are nodding your head and saying “Oh yeah, been there, done that.”

And there are times, when you’re shoving that cookie in your mouth, you think to yourself “You know, I don’t even want this cookie.”  But you eat it anyway.  Because you’ve been taught so well how to emotionally eat.  To have food make you feel better.

Only it doesn’t.

And then someone naturally skinny person comes along and says they must have an “inner fat girl” because they love food so much.

Let me tell you – that’s just bullshit.  I didn’t get fat because I love food so much, and the same goes for so many others in the same boat.  It happens because there’s something bigger going on in their lives that they can’t control.  So they eat.  Sometimes, they don’t even like what they’re eating, but they eat it anyway.

It’s not always about poor food choices.  It’s not always about portion size.  It’s not always about over-eating.  Sometimes, weight gain is a symptom of a bigger issue, one that isn’t well seen.  Anxiety.  Depression.  Shame. Abuse. Medical issues.

All around me these days, I see these really skinny women, walking out of the coffee shop with a tall skinny latte and a muffin or something that just by looking at it, I will gain a pound.  But obviously it doesn’t affect them.  And I wonder, where did I go wrong?  What choices did I make that put me over here, in the Obese end of the BMI scale?

And then I think of those days, when Maura was just diagnosed with “something”, no one able to tell me what was wrong with my child, learning that I may never know…and those times I sat around, staring at the tv, shoving a bag of chips in my mouth because I just couldn’t deal with life.  Rewarding myself after a bad day with some ice cream.  Then realizing that I put on ten pounds in ice cream alone in a month, and feeling badly over it.

A constant vicious cycle of not feeling good.

And the funny thing is – I don’t let my kids eat like that.  It’s just myself I’m shooting in the foot.

But at this point, I’m done with being overweight.  I’m learning different ways of perking up my mood.  I’ve figured out the “why” behind I eat, and I’m trying to do better.  So that someday, I can be that skinny gal with the tall latte and muffin.  Well, maybe not skinny.  I’ve never been skinny, not since puberty.  But fitter, healthier, less lumpy, more curvy.

I’m still going to like my food, I’m just not going to listen to the lies it tells me, and call it a damn dirty liar when it tells me it’ll make me feel better.  I’ve learned a lot about myself over the past few years – and this is one of the things.

Maybe you’ve learned something too by reading this.

 

 

35 comments   |  tags: , , | posted in blathering

May 14, 2012

One somewhat sunny afternoon in Dublin…

By phoebz4

Today, Maura got off the bus, all shades of happy and giggly.  Her backpack was heavy from the many many changes of clothes it contained thanks to toilet training at school (three days in a row with some success!)

As I emptied the backpack of one plastic bag after another, a scream came from the kitchen and a small dog came skulking out guiltily.

See, Zoey had been in the back yard.  Whenever Maura hears Zoey at the door, she’ll let her in. In her joy to see a child and with her natural exuberance, Zoey leapt all over Maura….and accidentally scratched her up across the belly.

Not being a dumb dog, Zoey realized she’d done a bad bad thing and ran for it guiltily.  I managed to calm Maura down with some booboo cream, a band aide and two bananas.

Then Miriam came home and I heard “AH!  AH!  Get DOWN!”

Obviously the dog has short term memory issues, having instantly forgotten how her jumping and leaping injured one girl already.

Now she’s circling Maura (after leaping at each boy as they walked through the door) as Maura stands there eating a sausage roll.  Circling…circling…flopping down to wait…

I guarantee, in an hour, this dog will have worn herself out with her excitement in having her kids back and crash out at someone’s feet.

Zoey with her kids, in a calmer moment

PS – Remember, I’m collecting money of all sorts for a fundraiser for Maura’s school – click here to read more about it!

1 comment | posted in family tales, maura, miriam, pet antics, sean

May 14, 2012

Music Monday – Boy on Bridge preview

By phoebz4

So once again, mentioning my love of the band Great Big Sea, and how one of the guys, Alan Doyle, is coming out with a solo record very soon (May 15th…wait, is that tomorrow? woohoo!)

Anyway, up on his site, there’s a lovely media player box with five of his new songs. I can honestly say, I love all five.  Usually with new albums, I’ll love three, like a couple, and have one that will always be skipped over.  But not here.  All five are fabulous in their own ways.  So I’m sharing.  And if you want, you can then order the album – released tomorrow.  And then roll down your car windows and blare these songs as you drive down a country road, within the speed limits of course.

So click right here, then go to the media player box, and perk up your Monday morning a little with some damn good music.

5 comments   |  tags: , | posted in music monday

May 12, 2012

Our Saturday

By phoebz4

Josh had a work-related thing he had to go to today, so it was just me and the kids.  As it was supposed to be a nice day today (after what seemed like 40 days and 40 nights of rain), I decided that we should all get out of the house and go for a walk on the beach.

The children all leapt for joy and said “Oh Mother!  That sounds divine!” and scurried into the car with a skip in their step and songs in their hearts…

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

There was Maura, screaming at me because I had to take off her boots in order to change her diaper.  Teenage boys going “Do I have to go?” and “Groan.” and “Ugh.”  The dog was running amok because she saw the leash come out.  Then it turned into a “But it’s just going to rain on us.”

Finally I said “LISTEN!  WE’RE GOING TO THE BEACH AND WE’RE GOING TO HAVE FUN DAMMIT!”

(FYI, times like these, Josh and I refer to as “Family Fun Dammit”  - aka, we’re going to give it our best shot, whether you like it or not.)

Eventually, everyone got into the car – groaning teen boys, hyper dog, girls in pink skirts.  We drove to the beach, which is about a ten minute ride, so of course Sean napped on the way.  He inherited his father’s superpower of being able to go to sleep instantly anywhere.  I hate them both for that.

But then, we got to the beach.  I sent the boys with the dog and a plastic baggie to go walking while the girls started playing.  Earlier this week, Josh and I took the dog to the beach only to find it with high waves and a higher than norm tide.  Today, we were greeted with actual stretches of sand.  The girls were in heaven.  The boys…well, they were a bit bored, but they were out there, not complaining.

And for a few minutes, I had peace.

Of course, eventually, we all piled back into the van, luring Maura away with the word “ice cream”.  There was a few ugly moments in a parking lot, as Maura screamed because she wasn’t getting out of the car while Collin ran in to get ice cream and I frantically looked for the twenty euro bill I knew I had just had (it was in my wallet…yeah…)…and then there was the realization I forgot to have him get bread and a quick stop at the Spar (think big convenience store only nicer), a chat with the teenager behind the counter joking about how quickly the loaf would disappear, and an impromptu trip to the fruit and veg market next door, housed in an old stone church, to buy flowers with Maura – who had announced “I’m FEEE!” as she unbuckled herself.  Then finally home again, where ice cream was devoured, and children and dog now sprawled out watching tv.

But for a moment, I had peace – as girls played in sand and boys walked the dog along the shore.  Peace and sunlight.

Miss Miriam

 

My awesome boots that I got in Scotland, just for this purpose

 

Zoey – WAY too excited to be there

 

Miriam and Maura

 

way back there, against the building, are the boys, probably discussing why sunlight is bad for their skin and how crazy their mother is

Maura, deciding to shed shoes and inhibitions to stick her toes in the water

 

and then the wave hit!

 

She thought it was hysterical that the wave almost got her!

 

It’s nice when the sun comes out…

 

6 comments   |  tags: , | posted in collin, kid talk, life in Ireland, maura, miriam, pet antics, photos, sean

May 10, 2012

The one where I hit you all up for money

By phoebz4

I don’t know if I’ve said it lately, but Maura’s school here is awesome. It’s part of a system – St. Michael’s House – that helps people with disabilities. From schools to social groups, doctors and respite care, the system is great.

Maura’s school is what’s known here as a special school – you know, for special kids. Her school is for children with moderate to severe disabilities. They do some academics, but also focus a lot on life skills – from dressing and toilet training, to how to ride the bus, to cooking. Miriam loves it when Maura has a cooking day, because they always send enough of the baked goods home for Maura to share!

The people who work at the school are the loveliest group you could ever meet. And there’s a lot of them – from the principal to the bus drivers and aides. Even the cleaning staff make sure we have tea and biscuits for meetings. Maura loves her school and we can’t say enough good things about them.

Like everywhere, times are tough, money is tight. Maura’s school is managing, but with more money, they could do even more for our kids.

They have several fundraisers, but one of the big ones is the Flora Women’s Mini Marathon Fundraiser. Somehow I ended up heading that fundraiser. And I thought “Well, if I’m going to head it, I might as well do the marathon.”

Let me be honest – I’m not running. NO RUN. But I can walk it. It’s part of why I’m going to the gym, to get into some shape before this marathon.

So yeah, I just signed up to do a 10K walk for charity. Because I love my daughter and love her school.

Who wants to give me money for that? Which will all go to Maura’s school?

And if you donate, you get to be all cool and European-Uniony and pay in Euros! Oooo…euros….(don’t worry, you can donate in good old American dollars, it’ll convert)…not to mention, Josh worked very hard to get this Paypal donate button to work.

Donate Now!

Maura, first day of school

11 comments | posted in maura, special needs

May 9, 2012

Dear World

By phoebz4

Here’s the deal – if you’ve never had a special needs child, do not tell us how to manage ours. Telling us to spank our kids when they’re “bad” is ridiculous. Telling us “Oh I know! My two year old does that.” isn’t helpful. Because your two year old? Will grow out of that behavior. My kid may not.

If you work with special needs kids, input given nicely is welcomed. Blind interference is not. Do not come up to me while my child is having a fit and try to help when you’ve never met us. I’m actually quite capable of handling my child, I have loads of practice. You have no clue what you’re stepping into and actually just making the situation worse.

If you have a special needs child, then you should be more sensitive to each individual situation. Do not judge my child by your situation. I don’t judge yours by ours. Because they are different. Also, this is not a competition. If you want to compete, I’ll let you win. Because I don’t want to win the “Who has it worse?” game.

To other parents – teach your children how to be kind to those who are different. This may mean you have to change your attitude towards my child. Because if you see my child as a little weird, your children will pick up on that and imitate that.

To teachers and principals – keep us special ed parents in the loop. Some of us have children who can’t tell us what happened in school. I should not have to find out about the bullying going on from my older child. It breaks my heart that children who can’t defend themselves are being picked on, especially after having my older child sign all these “anti-bullying” pacts and sit through “anti-bullying” rallies. My ten year old should not have to hear from friends how her little sister is being called a baby by other students. It not only hurt her feelings, but made her angry. And I couldn’t tell her “Oh, don’t worry, they’re taking care of it at school. It won’t happen again.” Because it did happen again. Right in front of me. And it’s happening to other students. And it just makes me both angry and sad. I was a child who was bullied, but at least I could defend myself. My child doesn’t have that ability, and her sister shouldn’t have to step in for her.

Dear government – if you force us to mainstream our moderately disabled children, then for God’s sake, give more funding to the schools who have to deal with them. Because many schools are not prepared for moderately disabled kids. They have to hire extra staff, get items that are not readily available in the school, sometimes build additions. You insisted on making Least Restrictive Environment a law, local districts shouldn’t have to pay the price for your decision. You should. Local districts shouldn’t have to choose between cutting something like art or shortchanging the special ed kids.

To all the teachers, aides, and therapists – Having a special needs child makes you a little insane. It might be the lack of sleep, the stress, the worry, or our child’s current repetitive behavior. We’re just trying to do what’s best for our child, and many times we hear “You have to fight! They’re the enemy! You have to be a warrior!” And we buy into it. Thank you for putting up with us when we’re crazy. And I say this as one who has admitted to turning into “That Parent” at one point. What you don’t always see is how when we’re in the privacy of our own homes, how we may burst into tears because we just don’t know what’s going to happen to our child. That we’re somehow failing our child. And we’re embarrassed when we are caught in our weak moments. We don’t mean to be crazy – it just ends up that way.

Dear Doctors and medical staff – please understand that we may be crazy at times, but we’re also the expert on our child. All we ask is that we’re taken seriously, or at least at face value. Do not brush us off. You have no clue what we sacrifice to afford to see you. And in an emergency room situation, for God’s sake, listen to us when we say “My child doesn’t understand.” That’s not some secret code for “Please, talk to my child like they’re a competent 24 year old.” It means “My child does not understand and is going to freak the shit out on you when you start poking them with needles.” And if I tell you “My child’s going to freak the shit out when you pull out the needles and flail a lot” – don’t think I’m exaggerating. Get that extra person to help hold them down.

And for the Love of All that is Holy – do NOT criticize us for not holding our child down well enough. It is mentally painful for us parents to have to hold that child down when we know they’re going to be caused pain. Our child will look at us and wonder why we’re letting you cause them pain and not understand. Sorry if I’m not perfect at it. That’s really your job.

And to the teachers, therapists and school staff who have gone the extra mile for us, the store clerks who have dealt with us with patience and a smile, the other parents who have commiserated with us, listened to us, invited our child over to play, the doctors who have listened to us, the children who have treated our child as a friend, to those with a kind word or smile – thank you isn’t enough. We are grateful for every kindness, every effort, every time our child and family is treated as normal and feel blessed to have people like you in our lives.

Love,

the crazy lady with the special needs kid

(this is another older blog entry from another blog I wrote – I was thinking about some of this lately, and thought I’d repost it here.)

26 comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in random letters, special needs

May 8, 2012

Only in Ireland

By phoebz4

So I took the girl out shopping today. The girl who claims she’s bored by clothes shopping (boy did THAT get a look from her parents).

Anyhooey – we were in one store, one that will remain anonymous, and Miriam spotted an item. Stopped, got big eyed, maybe drooled a little. It was a hoodie with a US flag in the shape of a heart on the front. While looking for her size, Mim then found a t-shirt with a sparkly US flag on it.

Of course I got them for her. The whole trip was to spoil her every so slightly.

As we were checking out, I told the cashier how we *had* to buy these, and she laughed, asked if we were American, and then said how they only sold American flag shirts in their store.

And then she went into it a little further –

It wasn’t that they didn’t have any British flag shirts, they just weren’t put out. On purpose. There were boxes of British flag stuff in the storage room. “They don’t sell anyway.” the girl said. “No one will buy them.”

I had to laugh a little at it all, and explained to the cashier that my grandmother was Irish, so I understood the “why” behind it all.

And I’m glad they like us Americans enough to sell clothes with our flag on it.

4 comments   |  tags: , , | posted in life in Ireland, miriam

May 7, 2012

A birthday, a story, and a song

By phoebz4

Today, our second boy – the spare to our heir, better known as Josh’s Clone – turns 14. Sure, I’ve hit this milestone before with his brother doing the same thing two years ago. Doesn’t mean I’ve gotten used to it.

The night I went into labor with Sean, there were tornado warnings. Which should have been a sign about how things would be with this child. Collin was the textbook baby – if the book said a child should do this and then that, Collin did this, and then that. Sean didn’t know there was a book to follow. He’s been doing things his way since birth, but always with an easy-going demeanor.

While Collin was more hesitant, Sean flew into everything he could as a toddler. Sometimes literally, which would explain the three scars on his forehead by age 2.

One of my favorite stories about Sean as a toddler was when he was just over the age of two. We had a rocking airplane (think rocking horse in the shape of a Red Baron-esque bi-wing plane). Now most kids? Rocked on it. As one does. Sean however, tilted it up on its tail end, then climbed up and into the framework.

This is how we ended up with one of Sean’s first sentences. Which was “Help! I’m tuck! I’m tuck!”

This also lead to a phone call to Josh at work. “Honey, where’s an allen wrench?”

“Why?”

“Because I need to unscrew Sean from the airplane, and the screws take an allen wrench.”

I was nice – I did lay Sean down, propping him up on pillows while I made the phone call. And then I made note of where I put the allen wrench afterwards. Because sure enough, Sean did it again the next week.

He’s less likely to run into a wall these days, or get stuck in something. He’s actually mellowed out since his toddler days. But there are still times, when we’re out and exploring, I’ll look and he’s scurried up some rock. But his method of keeping me on my toes now is more psychological. Basically, the boy is too smart for my own good.

As for the song (hey, it is Monday) –

I’m certain I’ve posted this before, but I’ll do it again. It’s Great Big Sea’s “Walk on the Moon” – which Miriam and Sean have photo cameos in (they asked fans to send in photos of accomplishments – I sent in a few, and those two made the cut.) Sean is the rock climbing boy at 1:05 – and yes, I remember the day. We were at a festival, and there was a rock climbing column. Sean – who was about 7 at the time – wanted to try it. He made it straight to the top. We knew he would.

5 comments   |  tags: , , | posted in memories, music monday, sean

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