The good news is, my sister's ok (physically, at least). She swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills, but thankfully realized as she started getting sleepy that she really didn't want to die after all. So that's good, I guess.
I went up on Saturday, first flight out in the morning, last flight home at night. It's awful -- she's stuck in the er at a kind of crummy-looking hospital, just sitting there until a bed opens up, possibly today. So yeah, three days of sitting in a waiting room, staring at the walls. How very therapeutic.
At some point, I'm going to need to talk to someone about all this. Right now, I'm just struggling with the feeling that I should be there, even if it's just to stare at the walls together. But see, there are these kids, one of whom doesn't take a bottle and is still nursing. It's a catch-22. I can't take E to the hospital, but I can't really leave her, either. So I'm stuck with daytrips when I can arrange babysitting, and even those I'm hoping don't leave E to wean early. And then I feel guilty that I'm thinking about things like that when my sister is going through hell. I should be dropping everything to be there, doing whatever it takes, right?
I don't know. I'm a mess right now. (a thoroughly non-suicidal mess, just in case anyone thinks that I'm sounding worse than I am.) I hope that once we figure out where she's going to be long term, things will get clearer and easier.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
wordless
my sister tried to kill herself today. Thank heavens, she failed. But I've been on the phone woth the hospital trying to get information for almost an hour no, with no help. I cannot talk to anyone right now, so I'm posting here. i just needed to get that out.
It's like waiting for godot. "We can't help you here. Please hold. Please hold. Pleasehold. She's in critical, can't tell you anything. You can't find out information on a critical patient. Ok, when she leaves critical, who do I talk to? We can't give you any information then, either. You need to be here."
Am looking for flights now, but can't possibly get there until tomorrow (with E in tow). Oh, god.
It's like waiting for godot. "We can't help you here. Please hold. Please hold. Pleasehold. She's in critical, can't tell you anything. You can't find out information on a critical patient. Ok, when she leaves critical, who do I talk to? We can't give you any information then, either. You need to be here."
Am looking for flights now, but can't possibly get there until tomorrow (with E in tow). Oh, god.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Broadway Baby
When I was little, I loved listening to Broadway musicals. It started with Annie, of course (wasn't every kid who grew up in the Suburbs surrounding NYC in the late 70s/early 80s obsessed with Annie?). But, spurred on by my involvement in a singing group, I was soon belting along to Grease, Chicago and Bye Bye Birdie. I never thought about what the words meant, I just sang. It wasn't until college that I learned what half of the things I'd so gleefully sung about actually meant.
I assumed the same would be true with M. I made her a mix CD recently of "princess music," consisting largely of songs from Disney movies. But I had some room on the CD, so I snuck in my favorites from Annie, Hairspray and Bye Bye Birdie. I (correctly) figured she'd like the music. My big mistake, however, was in assuming she'd just listen and maybe sing along without thinking about what the words mean. My folly has led to some interesting lines of questioning:
"What's a hard-knock life, Mommy?"
"Why are their lives hard?"
"What's an orphan?"
"But why don't orphans have Mommies and Daddies? Are they dead?"
"Are you half and orphan, since your daddy is dead?"
"Are you going to die?"
"when you go back to work, will I be an orphan?"
"What's a flasher?"
"Why does that girl's mom tell her 'no'"
"Why doesn't her mommy want her to dance on TV?"
"Can I dance on TV?"
(she also, incidentally, insists that the Tracey who sings "You Can't Stop the Beat" is a different girl then the one who sings "Good Morning, Baltimore," because they sound different.)
"Why are they on the phone?"
"Why are they singing on the phone?"
"but WHY?"
Seriously, if I'd know she was actually going to listen to the songs, I'd never have put them on the CD. The point was to get her to stop talking in the car, not to open up new and uncomfortable lines of questioning.
At this point, I'm just glad she's never heard any of my Avenue Q cd.
I assumed the same would be true with M. I made her a mix CD recently of "princess music," consisting largely of songs from Disney movies. But I had some room on the CD, so I snuck in my favorites from Annie, Hairspray and Bye Bye Birdie. I (correctly) figured she'd like the music. My big mistake, however, was in assuming she'd just listen and maybe sing along without thinking about what the words mean. My folly has led to some interesting lines of questioning:
"What's a hard-knock life, Mommy?"
"Why are their lives hard?"
"What's an orphan?"
"But why don't orphans have Mommies and Daddies? Are they dead?"
"Are you half and orphan, since your daddy is dead?"
"Are you going to die?"
"when you go back to work, will I be an orphan?"
"What's a flasher?"
"Why does that girl's mom tell her 'no'"
"Why doesn't her mommy want her to dance on TV?"
"Can I dance on TV?"
(she also, incidentally, insists that the Tracey who sings "You Can't Stop the Beat" is a different girl then the one who sings "Good Morning, Baltimore," because they sound different.)
"Why are they on the phone?"
"Why are they singing on the phone?"
"but WHY?"
Seriously, if I'd know she was actually going to listen to the songs, I'd never have put them on the CD. The point was to get her to stop talking in the car, not to open up new and uncomfortable lines of questioning.
At this point, I'm just glad she's never heard any of my Avenue Q cd.
Monday, August 03, 2009
Stuff
Just quick updates:
1. The baby is crawling. Not army-crawling, which she'd been doing for a while now, but actual, hands-and-knees crawling. I tell you, it's very funny to see this little tiny thing (she weighs 14.5 pounds at a week shy of six months) crawling. Plus, she's super proud of herself, so as she moves, she'll look up at me and crow. Adorable.
2. I'm back on some kind of diet -- since E was born, I've gained back all but 10 of the pounds I'd lost. Part of the reason is that I dove back into bad habits -- eating chocolate all day every day, for instance. So I've banned candy from the house and will be refocusing. I'm not fool enough to think I'll lose any weight, I just want to try not to gain any more before I end up gaining everything back.
3. My body continues to play with my head. Gr.
4. Two of my IRL friends, both of whom I like very much, are in a fight with each other. Each has privately confided in me, so I know both sides of the story. Aside from feeling dishonest because I haven't disclosed to either one that the other has spoken to me about the problem, I'm kind of frustrated because I feel like I should fix it. Mostly, it's been a problem of miscommunication combined with oversensitivity on both sides (seeing offense where none was meant). Unfortunately, I don't know how to fix it without betraying one or more confidences. Gargh. I'm not good at this kind of thing.
5. M continues to be a fantastic big sister. She adores E, who adores her right back. It's so nice to see the two of them playing so well together. Nice, that is, until M decides that she's big enough to pick up the baby and carry her around or move her to a different spot if M deems that E's too close to something M doesn't want her to touch. If there's a scarier phrase in the English language than "don't worry mommy, I''m moving the baby," I don't know what it is.
6. We're starting E on solid foods. So far, she hates rice cereal, will tolerate oatmeal, and doesn't really seem to like anything else. Mostly, she just doesn't like to eat because (a) mealtime means she's confined to a high chair, and there's nothing E hates more than being confined, and (b) I won't let her steer the spoon all by herself. If this keeps up, I fear that we're going to dealing with a very picky eater. That'll be a new experience, because M was a great, non-fussy eater from day 1. I've been very spoiled.
7. That said, if I place a plate of cheerios on the floor, E is about as happy as she can be. She LOVES cheerios, and if she can eat them while crawling around, so much the better.
8. I know this because I got tired of E picking carpet fuzz off the floor and trying to eat it. I finally figured that if she was so hungry, I'd give her something more nutritious than polyester to eat. So I put down a plate of cheerios, just to see what would happen. She devoured them with glee.
9. Am I a bad mom for feeding my 5-month-old on the floor like a dog?
1. The baby is crawling. Not army-crawling, which she'd been doing for a while now, but actual, hands-and-knees crawling. I tell you, it's very funny to see this little tiny thing (she weighs 14.5 pounds at a week shy of six months) crawling. Plus, she's super proud of herself, so as she moves, she'll look up at me and crow. Adorable.
2. I'm back on some kind of diet -- since E was born, I've gained back all but 10 of the pounds I'd lost. Part of the reason is that I dove back into bad habits -- eating chocolate all day every day, for instance. So I've banned candy from the house and will be refocusing. I'm not fool enough to think I'll lose any weight, I just want to try not to gain any more before I end up gaining everything back.
3. My body continues to play with my head. Gr.
4. Two of my IRL friends, both of whom I like very much, are in a fight with each other. Each has privately confided in me, so I know both sides of the story. Aside from feeling dishonest because I haven't disclosed to either one that the other has spoken to me about the problem, I'm kind of frustrated because I feel like I should fix it. Mostly, it's been a problem of miscommunication combined with oversensitivity on both sides (seeing offense where none was meant). Unfortunately, I don't know how to fix it without betraying one or more confidences. Gargh. I'm not good at this kind of thing.
5. M continues to be a fantastic big sister. She adores E, who adores her right back. It's so nice to see the two of them playing so well together. Nice, that is, until M decides that she's big enough to pick up the baby and carry her around or move her to a different spot if M deems that E's too close to something M doesn't want her to touch. If there's a scarier phrase in the English language than "don't worry mommy, I''m moving the baby," I don't know what it is.
6. We're starting E on solid foods. So far, she hates rice cereal, will tolerate oatmeal, and doesn't really seem to like anything else. Mostly, she just doesn't like to eat because (a) mealtime means she's confined to a high chair, and there's nothing E hates more than being confined, and (b) I won't let her steer the spoon all by herself. If this keeps up, I fear that we're going to dealing with a very picky eater. That'll be a new experience, because M was a great, non-fussy eater from day 1. I've been very spoiled.
7. That said, if I place a plate of cheerios on the floor, E is about as happy as she can be. She LOVES cheerios, and if she can eat them while crawling around, so much the better.
8. I know this because I got tired of E picking carpet fuzz off the floor and trying to eat it. I finally figured that if she was so hungry, I'd give her something more nutritious than polyester to eat. So I put down a plate of cheerios, just to see what would happen. She devoured them with glee.
9. Am I a bad mom for feeding my 5-month-old on the floor like a dog?
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
WTF?
Not pregnant (duh). No period. But I've been crampy, it's been a week now that my breasts have been sore, and I've been spotting.
What the heck is going on here?
What the heck is going on here?
Friday, July 10, 2009
My Body is Messing with my Head
Did I ever tell you all that, when E was born, I asked the doctor that did the c-section to take a look at my remaining tube and tell us what she thought? No? Well, I did (ask, I mean). And then I felt bad, because she came into our room the next morning looking terrible, and hemmed and hawed and clearly thought she was delivering the terrible news that I am, indeed, infertile. We quickly reassured her that we knew that already, and that we were just checking in the hopes that, I don't know, maybe the tube had decided to become straight and unscarred while I was pregnant. But it hasn't, and that's ok. I think The Boy and I are both happy with the two kids we've got, and have come to terms with the fact that we won't have a son (heck, even if we did have a third, who's to say it wouldn't be another girl? Which, I hasten to add, we'd be fine with. I adore my girls and am glad that they are who they are).
Anyway, I know I can't conceive. I know this. And still, my body's messing with me. Specifically, these last few days I've been noticing that my breasts are sore. And so, even though I know that the chance I could be pregnant is infinitesimal, I'm still seriously considering buying a test. So far, I'm holding out, because I figure it's more likely that my period is getting ready to return and I'd feel like an asshole if I tested then got my period the next day.
But serious, when am I done with this? When will I really, truly accept the fact that we're done, there are no more kids coming, and that I will not be pregnant again? 'Cause I'd like to skip to that time, please. I have better things over which to obsess.
Anyway, I know I can't conceive. I know this. And still, my body's messing with me. Specifically, these last few days I've been noticing that my breasts are sore. And so, even though I know that the chance I could be pregnant is infinitesimal, I'm still seriously considering buying a test. So far, I'm holding out, because I figure it's more likely that my period is getting ready to return and I'd feel like an asshole if I tested then got my period the next day.
But serious, when am I done with this? When will I really, truly accept the fact that we're done, there are no more kids coming, and that I will not be pregnant again? 'Cause I'd like to skip to that time, please. I have better things over which to obsess.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Oops
Wow! I can't believe it's been over a month since I've posted. Life's been busy, what with the little one deciding that lying still is for chumps and the big one forsaking naps completely.
First, the little one: She'll be five months old this week. She remains rather easygoing, but at the same time absolutely hates being still. About the only time she complains is when she can't move around, either because she's strapped into her carseat or had run herself into a corner. Most of the time, she's happiest on the floor, where she creeps around, chewing on anything she can reach. She particularly likes the furniture, and has been known to take a casual tour of our family room, grazing first on the coffee table, then crawling over to the entertainment center for the entree, ending up at my computer chair for dessert.
She also loves paper and other chokeables. For instance, here's a list of things I have taken away from the baby just in the last hour (and yes, all of this indicates that I really need to clean up in here):
The newspaper
Three different hair elastics
Two pens, an index card, a tape flag and the packaging for the cards and tape flags (these were not lying around; I was working on a project on the floor and she raided my lap desk).
A child-safety outlet plug
M's hairbrush
a clothes hanger
Anyway, the baby's sheer mobility takes my breath away on a regular basis, and drives M plain up the wall. E's been army-crawling for at least a few weeks now, and has recently learned how to get up on all fours. She hasn't quite figured out how to coordinate her legs and arms for actual crawling (normally, she just rocks back and forth until she ultimately flings herself facefirst into the floor), but I know it's coming.
Meanwhile, M has gone and taught herself how to swim. She is now, for the record, a better swimmer than I am. It's crazy.
So, it's fair to say we're having a good time these days. There isn't much in the way of downtime, but the girls do a great job of keeping me amused, which is of course the whole reason for their existance.
First, the little one: She'll be five months old this week. She remains rather easygoing, but at the same time absolutely hates being still. About the only time she complains is when she can't move around, either because she's strapped into her carseat or had run herself into a corner. Most of the time, she's happiest on the floor, where she creeps around, chewing on anything she can reach. She particularly likes the furniture, and has been known to take a casual tour of our family room, grazing first on the coffee table, then crawling over to the entertainment center for the entree, ending up at my computer chair for dessert.
She also loves paper and other chokeables. For instance, here's a list of things I have taken away from the baby just in the last hour (and yes, all of this indicates that I really need to clean up in here):
The newspaper
Three different hair elastics
Two pens, an index card, a tape flag and the packaging for the cards and tape flags (these were not lying around; I was working on a project on the floor and she raided my lap desk).
A child-safety outlet plug
M's hairbrush
a clothes hanger
Anyway, the baby's sheer mobility takes my breath away on a regular basis, and drives M plain up the wall. E's been army-crawling for at least a few weeks now, and has recently learned how to get up on all fours. She hasn't quite figured out how to coordinate her legs and arms for actual crawling (normally, she just rocks back and forth until she ultimately flings herself facefirst into the floor), but I know it's coming.
Meanwhile, M has gone and taught herself how to swim. She is now, for the record, a better swimmer than I am. It's crazy.
So, it's fair to say we're having a good time these days. There isn't much in the way of downtime, but the girls do a great job of keeping me amused, which is of course the whole reason for their existance.
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