Life Insurance

At any time, it could all change. That's the sad realization that my friend Kynisha is dealing with right now. She found out on Monday that her husband was killed in a car accident. Yesterday she went to identify his body. Today she spent trying to track down family, make funeral arrangements, focus on the to-do list...still in shock, no time to grieve or cry or figure out how she'll get this together when she can't get her thoughts together, or sleep, or eat. How does that hurt begin to change? It seems too deep and sudden to wear away.

This all brings up my fears of instability. What would Kevin or I do without the other? Not just the companionship, the life to share, the children to raise...We would lose our home. Where would we go? What would the other do?

Every month, Kevin and I go into our savings. For groceries. We should certainly be better at living within our means, but we don't live extravagently. We haven't figured out our budget post-K + 2 kids yet. But somehow, we have to manage to include life insurance in our monthly expenses. It seems like the only protection against the unexpected and the inevitable. God, please give us many many more years together.

Elliot's Eyes

Elliot's opthamologist really frustrates me. After the last appointment, and hearing "this is bad" two times too many, we're back where we started with the "wait and see."

Last visit, the nurse dilated his eyes, the doctor checked El out, then requested further dilation. The second examination is when the doctor shared with me that because El's eyes turn in, it's likely one or both will deteriorate (blindness is associated with CMV. Yes, this is the next place my mind goes when I hear this). Then the "this is bad, this is bad." Then me saying, "could you be less cryptic? WHat do you mean BAD? Can we do something about it?" Then he, "Oh yes, glasses, or surgery." Then me, "That's not bad. If there's something we can do, that's not bad." He "Right. Come back in 3 weeks. We'll do all this without dilation."

GROAN. Because he couldn't have popped in before this circus to check him out pre-dilation. Because he admits that this dilation sometimes exacerbates the eyes' tendency to wander.

And so, Friday was three weeks later. No dilation. He, Hmmm. Not as bad as I thought. We can just watch her and see. Me, He. His name is Elliot, you F***. Last visit you said things were bad. I was worried. I don't understand. He, well I was worried. We'll just wait and see. Me, that's what you told us last year. That's where we were before our last visit. He, If this deteriorates, then we may have to do something, but I think we're OK for now.

@#$&*()@#*!!!!!

My friend Holly is always looking for good doctors, and it's not until she asks her questions, that I begin to question our choices. Is it too much to ask that the dolt remember my child's gender, for christsakes? I know Elliot is quite the doll, but shit. And of course, all the confused and contradictory determinations do nothing but strip away at my confidence in anything he says.

So we're looking for another pediatric opthamologist. Not that I won't keep my appt. with this guy in two months. We all deserve better. And because we have these kinds of relationships, with Elliot's pediatrician, with my allergist, with Kevin's GP, with El's therapy team, we know how this should work. And this is not it.

Coming out of the Dark

The funk that was weighin' me down is leaving, and I'm quite relieved.


My visit with the social worker was good stuff. I've never talked to anyone, and the outcome of it was different than I had anticipated. First, I imagined that discussing my feelings would be an immediate unburdening. Instead, like any therapy, what I did was make the necessary work clear, with some tools to help. Lou recommended writing about my feelings for 4 straight days, 20 minutes at least at a time at the same time each day, and then letting it go. I have yet to do this. But am moving past my feelings, and have been sleeping, and feeling uplifted. Sleep makes a tremendous difference in my ability to be present and receptive to all the joy that exists in my life. I'm so grateful for those many nights of sleep...

What was so validating about my visit were such simple things-

-Lou acknowledging that "Yes" all that I've been through is hard. As an objective person on the side, he could look at it all, and say, "yeah, that's a lot, Emmy." Wow. Through my tears I had to acknowledge, "I don't know why that feels so good, but it does. Just hearing you say that."

-The simple statement that struggling through Elliot's health does not negate my love for him. That was such a gift. Wow. Being able to talk about how hard these challenges are, and how guilty I feel when I let the weight of it sink in was tremendously difficult. I didn't really want to open this can of worms. But I felt so relieved by Lou telling me that I can love Elliot and struggle with this all.

-Discovering that I've adapted something that I hated from my family: my dad's crazy obsession with dinner time ON TIME. I explained to Lou that I feel that I was spending too much time in the evenings at work. I then told him how much I LOVE my afternoon art time with the preschool, and rarely feel in a rush to leave. It's when I get home that I feel this self-imposed pressure to put my nose to the grindstone, and get dinner made by 6 pm. This intense rushing that I do gets in the way of the evening walk, or backyard playtime that the kids often want to do. I'm not even hungry when I'm doing this. As I answered Lou's question of "where does this come from" with "I don't know" I thought about my Mom's crazy rushing every evening, and my dad's petulant frustration if dinner wasn't made by 6:30. The lightbulb went off. Yikes! I've done so much to marry a man not like my father, but what have I done? Lou's comfort was so easy: It's easier to get rid of the dad in your head. It's a good thing you didn't marry someone with that expectation. It would be much harder to change him. So now I'm working on ejecting the dad in my head from our family traditions. Sorry dad. It's not working for me. (My dad doesn't know what a blog is. Otherwise, I wouldn't write about this).

I imagine if I was doing my homework, these good feelings would double. I'm going to try that tonight.

Happy Birthday, Tita!

Abuelita-

Your life is a gift to every one around you.

Happy 65th Birthday, Mom.

We're lucky to share in your life.

Self-Regulation

When meeting with an Infant Mental Health Specialist on Friday about how to teach children self-regulation, I began to think about my own balance, that I am trying to find. He mentioned the kind of activities adults use to self-regulate: waking up and having coffee, or running , or having a shower. Then later, taking a walk, having a cup of hot tea, or taking a warm bath...Simple rituals that allow us to balance out the intensity of our lives. My puzzlement was obvious during our conversation. Then I revealed that don't think I have enough of these activities in my own life. I'm not the most routine or organized person. With the exception of my morning shower, my day is all up for grabs. I'm hoping to institute more rituals that help shape my mental health. My best friend suggests changing into other clothes when I arrive home, really carving out my home and family time. And wearing nice pjs to bed, and lounging a bit in them in the morning. Our mornings aren't really the stuff of lounges, but I get the idea of using the clothes to help designate these times for specific activities.

This same friend also sends me an article on staying young from Dr. Oz in the same day that she drops off fatty delicious whoopie pies. In the article, he lists out an every day to do list:

• walk 30 minutes
• floss and brush
• drink several cups of green tea
• take your multi-vitamins
• meditate for 5-15 minutes
• sleep seven to eight hours per night

I'm working on adding these to my routine as self-regulation techniques. I walked this morning, after waking up after my sleeping pill night (7 hours). No wild rabbits but the walk was good for my psyche. Let's see if I can floss tonight. Recommendations on multi-vitamins welcome, although Oz has some requirements.

I have an appointment with a social worker on Monday to talk about my stress level. I'm hoping to be in a better space after that.

Thanks for all the support out there. I'm feeling the love.

Light a candle, say a prayer

Please send some loving hope to a child who needs some right now.


"Winners are the people who when the odds are stacked against them, and those around them have fallen, will have the courage to look within themselves and make the unbelieveable believeable, and the impossible possible."–C. Phillips


I believe in you. I know you will survive this. I'm sorry I can't be with you.

Drive-by Whoopie Pie

Delicious! Thank you, friend. For the company, sweets, and guidance.

33 plus one week

Following the advice of a friend who bundles her doctor's visits around her birthday, I've started this practice this year. I'm typically really bad about seeing the doctor. This, after 2 children in 3 years and the requisite visits with the OB in that period. But everyone and thing else to exclusion. I really don't take care of myself. I would like that to change.

So far on the agenda...
-teeth cleaned (check)
-Annual gynecology (check)...waiting on pap results
-mammogram (tba)

It was in the gynecologist's office that I had the opportunity for some introspection. You know that check list about your health on the back of one of the many forms? As I read through the list of ailments, I suddenly felt quite old and worn out.

-Weight gain (check)
-Sleeplessness (check)
-Frequent diarrhea (check)
-Back trouble (check)
-Sore breasts (check)
-Depression.
-Depression.
-Depression.

It is here where I lingered. I know that there are underlying reasons that lead us to behave in ways that others might describe as idiosyncratic, like loving to eat. But I was forced to wonder, when the checkmarks align just so, is there something else there that could use some attention?

In the last weeks I've definitely considered sleeping pills. The sleepless nights, and the fear of having a sleepless night have left me feeling beyond tired. I just feel old. Older than I should at 33.

Friday night movie night was different. Kevin was running late...Mom didn't babysit. My brother, who has some mental illness that makes him occasionally intolerable, began acting out in front of my kids. Since he usually lives at my mom's, I scooped up my sobbing kids who LOVE sleeping at Tita's house, and brought THEM to the movies. Bee Movie, Elliot's first. We pigged out and went into sodium and sugar overdrive. The tears forgotten as we recounted the movie on the ride home. Tired. And wondering if movie night is cancelled from now on. My brother just likes to pretend that nothing ever happened. I hate that. I don't think Ana will allow it anyway. It was the first time I had to explain another adult's poor behavior to my child. I think she really wanted to read him the riot act. That scares me.

On Saturday morning, I went out for a brisk walk on the levee. Just the uphill climb to the bike path makes me feel better. But after a day of trying to get it together for the Heifer bazaar and dealing with work stuff, I was depleted by sunset. Feeling somewhat satisfied by the sales (yes, we can buy a cow if we want to), but disappointed by the turnout. And just tired and old.

I'm ready to make some changes. I think. Always easier said than done.

I left the depression box unchecked. But I did explain my feelings with the gyn. I don't want medication. I want a life in balance...equal parts depletion and exhileration.

Craft for Cows

It's tonight! Abeona House preschoolers will sell their wares in the name of preventing hunger and promoting peace and self-sustainability through Heifer International.

Their work looks so beautiful. My favorites are their self-portraits and the earrings they made with Georgia when she came to school...I don't know how I can stop myself from buying it all.

I hope to see you there. 5-7 pm at La Divina Gelateria (3005 Magazine).

Trick or Treating on Oak Street

Ana was produce-shooter, Elliot was Superman (at Bright School), and Mom was Third Eye (a superpower who can see the future with a third eye on her forehead). We traipsed up and down Oak Street with princesses, ladybugs, elephants and lions. The neighborhood was very supportive, and the kids' bags were heavy by the time we got back. Definitely a new Abeona tradition.

Thanks, Holly for documenting our trip!