So, hi.

It’s been nearly a year.

I’m not the same person. I had no idea I grew so much in a year. It must have happened while I was sleeping, or something. That’s when the best ideas come to my head. Except on evenings when I have terrible insomnia, evenings not unlike tonight. So basically I get ideas when I’m sleeping and also when I’m not sleeping. I’m kind of complicated like that.

This blog used to serve a purpose.

It was to help me let go of all the stupid things I did as a child.

It’s done that. I no longer look down on myself with utter embarrassment.

It was to come to terms with my bipolar depression.

It’s done that. Not only do I now accept my condition, but I’m comfortable telling just about anyone about it. Especially those close to me who had absolutely no idea, no idea because I lived far away, and in my emails and phone calls I masked. I was happy, happy, happy. Yes, I’m doing fine (turn the tables before they realize I’m drowning in my own mind), how are you? 

It was to discuss my parenting mistakes, whether serious or hilarious.

It’s done that. Or perhaps it’s doing that. I haven’t decided yet. Nevertheless, my children seem to be thriving. I haven’t done them in yet, so I guess I can continue on the current trajectory with all its ups and downs.

The Great Orange Crayon Meltdown Of 2012

Husband is out-of-town, so for the next three days it's just me and my girls.  We're going to stay up late watching chick-flicks and eating ice cream out of the container. We might also give each other make-overs and talk about boys we like.  I haven't worked out all the details yet.

And I really feel like I need this quality time with my kids.  I've been focusing so much on my studying lately, that I haven't been engaging with them one-on-one as much as I used to.  I have to push them aside to continue pouring over old notes and textbooks.  In a very small way, I already feel like I'm back at work.

All of this is probably what led up to the great orange crayon meltdown of 2012.

You see, around 8:30 last Friday morning I called out to my girls "Let's get our socks and shoes on! It's time to go to school!"  Preschooler bounds to the steps and eagerly jams her shoes on her feet.  Toddler is dawdling by some pictures they were drawing in crayon.

"Orange crayon," she says.

"Ok," I say, "Finish drawing with your orange crayon.  It's time to go."

She makes some marks with the crayon, and then says a little louder, "ORANGE CRAYON."

"Yes," I reason, "You've drawn with your orange crayon.  Now it's time to go."  She pitter-patters up to me and starts to wail, "Ooorrrange crayyyyyooonn."

"Come on, sweetie, we have to go."  I start putting her socks on, and she runs away screeching, "NO! NO! ORANGE CRAYON! ORANGE CRAYON!"

And as her wails reach a crescendo in my ears, I hear a second voice chime in, "NO! NO! STOP IT! AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!"

Poor Preschooler is especially sensitive to her sister's feelings, and hearing so much angst emitting from her sibling's mouth was enough to send Preschooler into utter hysterics.

For five straight minutes, while I wrestled socks and shoes and coats on them, my girls screamed until they were both red in the face. The amount of unnecessary noise was staggering, and I would've cried too if the whole thing hadn't been so ludicrous.

Later that day, I did talk to Preschooler about some other coping strategies she has when Toddler cries. We talked about how she can cover her ears, or she can go to her room where it's nice and quiet.  I wasn't sure whether any of that would stick, but she seemed to take it to heart.  A couple days later, when Toddler started pitching a fit about something, Preschooler announced, "I HAVE TO GO TO MY ROOM!!!!"  She scampered upstairs and about 5 minutes later she came back down with a smile on her face.  "I feel better!" she said. "That's great!" I announced.  "See!  When Toddler cried you were able to go up to your room where it was nice and quiet." "Or the toy room!" she agreed.

So maybe there is a silver lining after all.

Mentally Barred

As I mentioned before, I may be going back to work full time.

So, in an effort to open up as many doors as possible, I've decided to take the bar exam here in Wisconsin.   For those not in the know, the bar exam is an exam the state requires a lawyer to pass before they can legally practice law in that state.  It's a tough (and expensive) exam, spanning two full days, and covering every area of law imaginable.

So even though the exam isn't until the end of July, I've already started studying.  And my brain is fried.  Not that I've burned out or can't learn anything more.  Just fried in the sense that all my mental energy is focused on re-learning difficult concepts that I haven't utilized for as many as five years or so. All of which leaves me with little mental energy for blogging.

So forgive me if my posts are infrequent for a while. I'm still here.  I'm still going to read and comment on other blogs.  It's a nice distraction from studying.

But until I have all my brain cells back, I may not be posting more than a few times a month or so, when my mood and energy levels allow me to.

I love you all, and am still around.  But for a while, I'll be studying as I've never studied before. And coming from this overachiever, that's saying something.

Lesson Learned? Do Not Talk On The Phone While Driving. You'll Just Do Something Stupid.

As I headed home from the gym, I saw some one in the parking lot whose car battery had died.  The poor soul finagled around with some jumper cables with a mixture of confusion, dread, and anger on his face.  This reminded me of something I found out a couple years ago when I still lived in Ohio.

Your car battery can't die if you leave your keys in the car and the car running.  All night long.

Oh yes I did.

You see, I was on my way home from work when I got a call on my cell phone from an old friend I hadn't talked to in ages.  I was so excited to hear from her that I broke several safety rules by talking on my cell phone while driving.  I continued talking on the phone as I pulled into the parking lot. I got out of my car, and closed the door, still talking. Once I was in the house, I talked some more.  I think I talked for two hours, total.

What I didn't do?  Turn off my car and take the keys out of the ignition.

Yes, my car sat there running in my parking lot all night long.

So imagine Husband's surprise when he wakes up at the butt-crack of dawn (he had an hour-and-a-half commute back in those days), and hears a car running.  Who the hell else is up this early?  Huh, that sound is right by our apartment.  Wait a minute?  That's OUR car running!

Needless to say I never heard the end of this.  Which is fair.

Because it happened again.

Yes, not once, but twice, I have forgotten to take the keys out of the ignition and have left my car running in the parking lot all night long.  The second time (we were still living in Ohio), I was talking to my mom.  Who I talk to practically every day.

No excuses there.

So now I'm hyper-vigilant about making sure I turn the car off before leaving.  I've even turned it off, turned it on again and then turned it off again, just to make sure.

This is blurring into OCD territory, and I have enough neurosis, thank you very much.

Moms Always Know

It started when she was 18 months old.  She just had her 18-month-well-visit and was lagging behind a bit in her speech development.

Hmmmm........

Then she got an ear infection.  And then another. And then another

By twenty-one months she hadn’t gained any new words since that 18-month-well-visit.  Not one.

“Husband,” I said, “I think there’s something wrong with her hearing.”

“No there’s not, watch,” he said. “Toddler!  Come here!”

And Toddler toddled towards him.

“See? No problem.”

Hmmmm........

Three more months and three more ear infections, and Toddler and I find ourselves at the audiologist and ENT (ear, nose, and throat doctor.)  The audiology test shows she is at the line between normal hearing and hearing loss.  The ENT notices she has had a series of reoccurring ear infections.  I notice that her speech is delayed enough that she now qualifies for speech-therapy, and explain it’s because she’s not hearing properly.  But, the test says she’s technically normal.

“Let’s wait on it,” recommends the ENT.  “Lots of times the ear infections die down during the spring and summer months.  Then, if she doesn’t get more of them in the fall, we may be in the clear.”

Hmmmm........

Fall comes, and following that, winter.  Toddler continues with speech-therapy, and while she progresses, she still struggles with beginning and ending sounds of words.  I have her in to the doctor’s office at least six times, suspecting ear infections.  Two were ear infections.  The others?  “Wow, there’s a lot of fluid behind her ears!” the doctor would exclaim. “But it’s not infected.”

Hmmmm........

Speech-therapy continues. About a month ago, the therapist asks, “Have you had her hearing tested?”

“Yeah, like a year ago.” I replied.

“Maybe you should have her retested,” she replies.  I set up an appointment.

Finally, I bring her back the pediatrician a couple weeks ago with yet another suspected ear infection.  And this time we see a different pediatrician.  “Woah!” she says. “There’s A LOT of fluid behind her ear.”  The pediatrician flips through her chart, noting she’s in speech therapy.  “There’s no way she is hearing properly,” the pediatrician said.  “She needs her hearing tested.” 

Good thing I have that appointment set up.

A week ago I take her back to the audiologist.  Again, she tests on the border line of normal hearing and hearing loss.  But the tests for a toddler are limited.  She responded to her name, and to white noise, but there’s no way to test what speech sounds she’s hearing and what she’s not.  You might test an older child or an adult by asking them to repeat what you say.  “Chair” you say, and then maybe they say “hair” or “where” if they’re not hearing the “ch” sound properly.  But you can’t perform such a test on a two-year-old.

I talk to the ENT.  “Woah!” he says.  “There’s A LOT of fluid back there!”

So I’ve heard.

So we start to talk about ear tubes.  We agree that, infection or no infection, she needs tubes in her ears to drain all that fluid.  It will probably help with her hearing, and hopefully her speech.

And then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, “What about her adenoids? I noticed she’s very congested.”

“Yes,” I reply, “She always has a stuffy nose, always has a bunch of dried-up boogers up there.”

“Does she snore?”

“Yup!  That’s how we know she’s really asleep, and not just up in bed biding her time.”

“I think we should take her adenoids out too, while we do the ear tubes.”

Apparently adenoids can also get in the way of ear fluid draining properly.  Or so I’m told. 

So we set up the procedure for today.  We’re to arrive at the hospital at 9:00 am for ear tubes and an adenoidectomy.  That means that when she wakes up there’s no sippy cup of milk.  And no breakfast.  And that means that the first hour of her day was one epic temper tantrum.  After that first hour, she seemed to be resigned to the fact that we weren’t feeding her this morning, but she was still pissed.

But once we got to the hospital, SHE. WAS. A. CHAMP.

She played with the toys in the waiting room.  When we were sent back to an exam room, she accepted the trade of her monkey jammies for the astronaut-themed hospital gown with no compunctions whatsoever.

She spent the next 45 minutes, while we waited for the anesthesiologist, playing peek-a-boo with the room’s curtain and generally entertaining herself.

She lets the nurses take her vital signs without blinking an eye.

The only time we had tears?  When we parted ways as they wheeled her towards the operating room and we went to the waiting room.  But were those her tears, or mine?  I’m still not sure.  Even though getting ear tubes put in is one of the most common surgical procedures in the country, no one likes to see their baby have surgery.

And what did we hear from the doctor when all was said and done?  “She had A LOT of fluid drain from both ears.  And her adenoids were HUGE.  She’ll definitely start hearing better after this.”

She wasn’t hearing properly?  WHO KNEW?

Lesson learned?  Trust your instincts. Moms always know.

Good job, my little trouper! Hope you’ll be talking up an (understandable) storm, soon!

30 Million Day Blog Challenge #10: Some One or Something You're Proud Of

I don't write about him often, although he has given me explicit permission to write whatever I want about him, good or bad.

I'm going with good.

We were friends before we were a couple, and I admired him so much.  He was so easy-going, able to make friends with pretty much any one, outgoing, all things I was not.  I felt honored just to be able to tag along with him.

And then one day he felt rather honored just to be a part of my life.  And we started dating.

And for the first time in my life, I had a boyfriend who was respectful, who accepted me exactly as I was, who didn't abuse me.  He was nothing but wonderful.

And then one day, we got married.

He supported me through my grueling law school experience, never complaining when I had to ignore him while committing to my studies and giving me a shoulder to cry on when things just got too hard.

He nursed me after the birth of my first child, through a failed breastfeeding experience, a recovery that took weeks, mastitis, and postpartum depression.

In fact, he supported me through all my crazy, my bipolar depression, my anxiety, never once questioning a diagnosis, or my need for medication.  He was nothing but understanding and loving, and he was always there during my darkest days.

From the very beginning of our relationship I knew he'd be a wonderful father, and that proved to be true. He takes a fully equal role in raising our kids, and I couldn't ask for a better father to my children.

He worked his tail off to earn a PhD, something few people do.  And then he worked his tail off at his first job, so that I may stay at home with my kids, at least for a little while.

So this one's for you, Husband.  I love you with all my heart.

Bad Blogger, Bad

It has come to my attention that I do not post as regularly as I used to.

I'm not leaving the blogging world.

I'm just distracted.

Husband's job search is taking longer than expected.  Although he's guaranteed to stay in his post-doc position for another year while he continues looking for permanent work, he won't make enough money to allow me to stay at home with the kids.  We've made it through the past two years relying on his income and our savings.  But it's gotten to the point where I have to get either a part-time or full-time job, lest our savings run out completely.

And I'm conflicted.

I have no doubt that the kids would love being in preschool for a full day if I went back to work full time.  In fact, it would probably be good for Toddler, who still refuses to use a "big girl" cup or use the potty.  She'll bring the cup to her mouth to drink, but won't actually swallow anything.  She loves sitting on her potty, but refuses to actually pee or poop in the potty.  Being in daycare/preschool and watching all the other kids do these activities may be the push she needs to start doing them herself. It would be an adjustment for Preschooler and Toddler, but once they got used to it they'd have so much fun they wouldn't think twice about missing me.

But I'd miss them.

When we lived in Ohio, I worked full time for three years.  Both my kids were placed in full time daycare when they were just infants.  And they thrived.  I had no doubt that they were receiving good care.  But I missed them with all my heart.  You know how some people love being with their kids all weekend, but secretly feel good come Monday when they get to return to work and the adult world?

I never felt like that.

For three years, I never felt like that.

And the activities we already do during daytime?  Speech therapy for Toddler?  Gymnastics for both girls?  Play-dates?  Not to mention that I wanted Preschooler to try out soccer and swimming lessons this summer? They'd all have to be moved to nights or weekends, or dropped all together.

And working part time?  It would mean working nights and weekends, and not earning that much. So I'd be at home with my kids during the day, but not with my family at night.  And it would make taking time off for long-weekend visits to my parents' or elsewhere a bit trickier.

So, it's complicated.

Add to that the conundrum of where I'd look for a job.  Husband is best off staying where we are in Wisconsin, completing the research he's been working on for the past two years.  But for me, there are few jobs here that would allow me to utilize the skills I earned in law school without actually practicing law, which I don't particularly want to do.  I worked crazy late hours while living in Ohio and have no wish to return to such an intense working schedule.  For me, the best place to be where I can find work related to my degree without actually practicing law lies in Minnesota.  But this would involve Husband leaving his research here in Wisconsin unfinished, and taking up a whole new post-doc position in Minnesota while he continued looking for more permanent work.

So what do I do?  Work part-time in retail or something similar?  Find a full time job in Wisconsin totally unrelated to my degree and my previous work?  Move my family to Minnesota?

It's really complicated.

Add to that the fact that the baby we've been trying for, for well over a year, hasn't happened.  I know that God is in charge of this and he's saying, "Not yet." And it's probably for the best, even though I don't fully understand why.  But it still hurts.

So with all this crap floating around in my brain on a daily basis, it makes it hard to be wry or witty, or to write about the funny things that happen in my day-to-day life.

So I'm not giving up on blogging.

I'm just distracted