My calendar stresses me out.
This is something I say fairly often. It could be the millions of birthday parties and playdates, but really, I'm okay with all that. It is the constant juggling of our work, school and daycare schedules that totally pushes me over the edge. If you want to have any vacation time as a full-time employee and parent to say, actually take a vacation, you must be extremely careful about juggling who is going to be where when. Thankfully, we have Bright Horizons Back-up Solutions, of which I've written previously, and wonderful extended family members who always can help with a day here and there. But it is the scheduling of all this that drives me absolutely insane.
So I'm sitting here filling in the our Google calendar (G-d bless the Google calendar) with the dates for Max's daycare next year, and I had to share this phenomenon with you, by posting the email I just sent my husband, who is working at our other computer downstairs (I'm even spelling out our usual acronyms for you, and putting in a bit more description). Enjoy the chaos.
Subj: end of summer
I'm putting everything from the Early Learning Center (ELC) in the Google calendar and just feel like emailing you this instead of interrupting your work. Plus I'm not sure I could say this all out loud.
ELC is open for full year kids (Max attends full year) during the week after Kaleidoscope (Hannah's camp) ends. It might make sense for Hannah to do the vacation camp program this year for that week because...
The following week, the JCC is open for FY kids on Monday and Tuesday. So if we're going to go away we might want to wait until Wednesday, 9/1, to leave and Hannah can come to Bright Horizons on Monday and Tuesday because...
Once Hannah goes back to school the day after Labor Day (assuming that remains the same), Max is still off that Tuesday. On Wednesday is the ELC Open House, not that we'd definitely need to attend, BUT...
There's still no school that day because it's Erev Rosh Hashanah. And that means he effectively has no school all week.
And if we were to take off all of those days, we will have no vacation time left to go to Paris (which we are hoping to do at year end).
Gotta love the end of summer.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
So I Had Surgery
I wanted to capture some of the experience I had this week, having two herniated discs repaired in my lower back. It was the first time I've had surgery, and only my third hospital experience, the others being the births of my children.
Marc and I arrived at the surgical center at the hospital just before 10 am on Wednesday morning. There was a check-in process that involved a few pagers, similar to waiting for a table at a restaurant. Marc was eventually given a old-fashioned pager so that the surgeon could contact him by phone after he was finished (though I guess he never used it, as my surgeon found him in person instead). We were taken back to a pre-surgery area, where I met with a nurse, my surgeon and the anesthesiologist, who eventually administered some lovely drugs that knocked me right out. I have no memory of the operating room.
However, I have a VERY clear memory of waking up in the recovery area, which was one big room with many post-operative patients and lots of hospital staff running around. I was lying propped up on my side and facing a wall, so I couldn't see other patients, and it was sometimes hard to see the people taking care of me. And I was in PAIN. Before the surgery, I had said my level was 8/10, which I think had been amplified that morning because I was so nervous. Afterward, I was definitely 10/10, and I probably would have said 20/10 if they'd let me. The nerves in my legs were on fire. I was wearing devices on my legs to help with circulation, and every time they turned on, the pain became unbearable. I was given lots and lots of drugs. Marc came to see me, but was taken away pretty quickly because I was in such bad shape. He was brought up again later, and I had a total meltdown because the pain was still so bad and, from my perspective, no one was helping me. I had been sedated by the medication, so I'm sure I wasn't communicating clearly, but I couldn't figure out what else to say other than that I was hurting. The nurse mentioned to the anesthesiologist that I would need to go to the ICU if they gave me more drugs, and I pleaded for them to stop, that I would somehow tough it out, but I think that was what made the anesthesiologist review my chart again. He discovered that I hadn't been given a medication for nerve pain, despite his thinking that I had received it, and I was finally given the right stuff. The pain calmed down and I was transferred to my hospital room just before 6 pm - maybe two or three hours later than we'd expected prior to surgery.
I was kept at the hospital overnight because I was having surgery on two levels of my spine (usually it's just one) and because I am a diabetic,. When I reached my room, the pain was definitely less, but I still felt terrible. Marc didn't have much time to spend with me, since it was so late and he needed to get home to the kids, and I felt so bad that I didn't want him there. I shared a room with another woman. I'm not sure what she had done, but she received a lot less attention than I did. Meaning she slept. AND SNORED VERY LOUDLY AND ALL THE TIME. It was miserable. I was very concerned about my blood sugar levels, since I'd been told that keeping them in control would help prevent an infection. Every 20 minutes or so, the nurse would check my vitals (blood pressure, oxygen levels and temperature), but I kept reminding them that I needed my sugar checked. Due to the stress of the surgery (I hadn't eaten for about 24 hours at that point), my blood sugar was incredibly high. I was given, again from my perspective, very small doses of insulin, and my results just kept getting worse. Finally around 1 in the morning I got permission to do half of my normal insulin dose, and by morning I was back at normal levels. When Marc came to see me that morning, he had realized that I'd been feeling so badly that prior evening because of the high sugar levels (remembering that I wasn't the nicest person before I started being treated for diabetes).
My pain was about a 4/10 the following morning, but it was all in the incision site. My legs felt amazing. I hadn't walked much yet, but I could already tell that the surgery had been a success. It was such a huge change from the night before. After walking down a hallway and up and down a flight of stairs, I was cleared for discharge. It was totally surreal to be going home just about 24 hours later from what had been such a life-changing experience.
My brother Ryan had flown in from San Francisco to help out with the kids and taking care of me, and it was wonderful to have him here.* I think the kids almost wished I could have more surgery just so he'd come visit again. I received lots of lovely flowers, balloons and food, plus plenty of prayers and encouragement from family and friends. I am getting stronger each day, walking and sitting and finding it all totally novel. I have to retrain my mind to not expect pain with each and every movement. I've gone for a couple of small walks, and I'm feeling very optimistic that I will be completely healed soon. I can't adequately express how thankful I am for all the kind words and acts over the past two months. While the surgery was definitely not the easiest thing to go through, I am thrilled that I did it.
* I would be remiss if I didn't mention that in all of Wednesday's chaos, my mom called Marc to tell him that my grandfather had passed away. Marc had to break the news to me once I had stabilized and reached my inpatient room. While I was very upset, I think being in the hospital at the time actually made it a little easier to accept. Having Ryan here with me was beyond wonderful as we were able to both be on the phone with my mom together so easily, since our normal lives were already totally disrupted. I wasn't able to travel to attend the funeral today, and I am sad not to be there. My grandfather, Max Curtis, was a survivor of the Holocaust in a truly amazing story of luck. My most fond memories are of riding in his green station wagon when I was a kid. He was a house painter, and so the car was filled with paint cans, drop cloths, ladders and FUMES. He'd take me to McDonald's and then to a toy store called Children's Palace, and I'd come home with an upset stomach from the fumes and the excitement of it. My son is named for him. I am glad that I got to see him one last time at Thanksgiving, and I am going to miss having him in my life.
Marc and I arrived at the surgical center at the hospital just before 10 am on Wednesday morning. There was a check-in process that involved a few pagers, similar to waiting for a table at a restaurant. Marc was eventually given a old-fashioned pager so that the surgeon could contact him by phone after he was finished (though I guess he never used it, as my surgeon found him in person instead). We were taken back to a pre-surgery area, where I met with a nurse, my surgeon and the anesthesiologist, who eventually administered some lovely drugs that knocked me right out. I have no memory of the operating room.
However, I have a VERY clear memory of waking up in the recovery area, which was one big room with many post-operative patients and lots of hospital staff running around. I was lying propped up on my side and facing a wall, so I couldn't see other patients, and it was sometimes hard to see the people taking care of me. And I was in PAIN. Before the surgery, I had said my level was 8/10, which I think had been amplified that morning because I was so nervous. Afterward, I was definitely 10/10, and I probably would have said 20/10 if they'd let me. The nerves in my legs were on fire. I was wearing devices on my legs to help with circulation, and every time they turned on, the pain became unbearable. I was given lots and lots of drugs. Marc came to see me, but was taken away pretty quickly because I was in such bad shape. He was brought up again later, and I had a total meltdown because the pain was still so bad and, from my perspective, no one was helping me. I had been sedated by the medication, so I'm sure I wasn't communicating clearly, but I couldn't figure out what else to say other than that I was hurting. The nurse mentioned to the anesthesiologist that I would need to go to the ICU if they gave me more drugs, and I pleaded for them to stop, that I would somehow tough it out, but I think that was what made the anesthesiologist review my chart again. He discovered that I hadn't been given a medication for nerve pain, despite his thinking that I had received it, and I was finally given the right stuff. The pain calmed down and I was transferred to my hospital room just before 6 pm - maybe two or three hours later than we'd expected prior to surgery.
I was kept at the hospital overnight because I was having surgery on two levels of my spine (usually it's just one) and because I am a diabetic,. When I reached my room, the pain was definitely less, but I still felt terrible. Marc didn't have much time to spend with me, since it was so late and he needed to get home to the kids, and I felt so bad that I didn't want him there. I shared a room with another woman. I'm not sure what she had done, but she received a lot less attention than I did. Meaning she slept. AND SNORED VERY LOUDLY AND ALL THE TIME. It was miserable. I was very concerned about my blood sugar levels, since I'd been told that keeping them in control would help prevent an infection. Every 20 minutes or so, the nurse would check my vitals (blood pressure, oxygen levels and temperature), but I kept reminding them that I needed my sugar checked. Due to the stress of the surgery (I hadn't eaten for about 24 hours at that point), my blood sugar was incredibly high. I was given, again from my perspective, very small doses of insulin, and my results just kept getting worse. Finally around 1 in the morning I got permission to do half of my normal insulin dose, and by morning I was back at normal levels. When Marc came to see me that morning, he had realized that I'd been feeling so badly that prior evening because of the high sugar levels (remembering that I wasn't the nicest person before I started being treated for diabetes).
My pain was about a 4/10 the following morning, but it was all in the incision site. My legs felt amazing. I hadn't walked much yet, but I could already tell that the surgery had been a success. It was such a huge change from the night before. After walking down a hallway and up and down a flight of stairs, I was cleared for discharge. It was totally surreal to be going home just about 24 hours later from what had been such a life-changing experience.
My brother Ryan had flown in from San Francisco to help out with the kids and taking care of me, and it was wonderful to have him here.* I think the kids almost wished I could have more surgery just so he'd come visit again. I received lots of lovely flowers, balloons and food, plus plenty of prayers and encouragement from family and friends. I am getting stronger each day, walking and sitting and finding it all totally novel. I have to retrain my mind to not expect pain with each and every movement. I've gone for a couple of small walks, and I'm feeling very optimistic that I will be completely healed soon. I can't adequately express how thankful I am for all the kind words and acts over the past two months. While the surgery was definitely not the easiest thing to go through, I am thrilled that I did it.
* I would be remiss if I didn't mention that in all of Wednesday's chaos, my mom called Marc to tell him that my grandfather had passed away. Marc had to break the news to me once I had stabilized and reached my inpatient room. While I was very upset, I think being in the hospital at the time actually made it a little easier to accept. Having Ryan here with me was beyond wonderful as we were able to both be on the phone with my mom together so easily, since our normal lives were already totally disrupted. I wasn't able to travel to attend the funeral today, and I am sad not to be there. My grandfather, Max Curtis, was a survivor of the Holocaust in a truly amazing story of luck. My most fond memories are of riding in his green station wagon when I was a kid. He was a house painter, and so the car was filled with paint cans, drop cloths, ladders and FUMES. He'd take me to McDonald's and then to a toy store called Children's Palace, and I'd come home with an upset stomach from the fumes and the excitement of it. My son is named for him. I am glad that I got to see him one last time at Thanksgiving, and I am going to miss having him in my life.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Pain Fest 2010
On February 13, I put my son into his car seat. Given my long-term struggle with back and leg pain, it's not something I do terribly often, but I was anxious to get on the road to start a weekend trip away. I was tired and hungry, and I just wanted to GO.
And it sent a searing pain down my left leg, and I have not recovered since.
After a new MRI I was diagnosed with a second herniated disc, and the first one, which I thought had gotten mostly better, was determined to actually be worse. So now I have one on each side of my back, affecting nerves running down my legs, and I can no longer walk or sit without pain. Lots and lots and lots of pain.
Other than a few disastrous attempts at going in to the office, I have only left my house for doctor visits, and recently, to see a chiropractor. I have missed a tremendous amount of time and activities with my family and friends. Fortunately, I am able to work from home, and have been saving my best efforts to focus on my job.
I've been wanting to write an entry here, but I've been stuck on exactly what to say. This blog has always been about how busy I am - it is the name, after all - and technically, things have been busy. Just not for me. Marc has worked like crazy to keep things going for the kids and the house, and he has done more laundry and dishes in the last few weeks than he has done in the last few years. He has had to drive me everywhere and come along to every appointment. The kids have still been going to school and temple, out to birthday parties and restaurants. But I have been home, mostly in my bedroom. *I* have not been busy.
But in the midst of this lousy experience, there have been some wonderful things. I have an awesome extended family that has been helping out in so many ways, and I am extremely grateful for that. I have friends who have sent flowers, brought food, or just came by or called to chat. People have driven Hannah around when our family needed to be two places at once, and one of those places was not my bedroom. It has been amazing to see this community I've built try to rally around me, even though I am not very good at accepting help.
I am still in the process of figuring out what will happen next, but some kind of surgery is likely. I feel so fortunate to have health insurance and access to very good medical care so that I can face this dilemma without additional worry. I hope to be back on my feet again soon, so that I can get back to the busy life I want to be living.
And it sent a searing pain down my left leg, and I have not recovered since.
After a new MRI I was diagnosed with a second herniated disc, and the first one, which I thought had gotten mostly better, was determined to actually be worse. So now I have one on each side of my back, affecting nerves running down my legs, and I can no longer walk or sit without pain. Lots and lots and lots of pain.
Other than a few disastrous attempts at going in to the office, I have only left my house for doctor visits, and recently, to see a chiropractor. I have missed a tremendous amount of time and activities with my family and friends. Fortunately, I am able to work from home, and have been saving my best efforts to focus on my job.
I've been wanting to write an entry here, but I've been stuck on exactly what to say. This blog has always been about how busy I am - it is the name, after all - and technically, things have been busy. Just not for me. Marc has worked like crazy to keep things going for the kids and the house, and he has done more laundry and dishes in the last few weeks than he has done in the last few years. He has had to drive me everywhere and come along to every appointment. The kids have still been going to school and temple, out to birthday parties and restaurants. But I have been home, mostly in my bedroom. *I* have not been busy.
But in the midst of this lousy experience, there have been some wonderful things. I have an awesome extended family that has been helping out in so many ways, and I am extremely grateful for that. I have friends who have sent flowers, brought food, or just came by or called to chat. People have driven Hannah around when our family needed to be two places at once, and one of those places was not my bedroom. It has been amazing to see this community I've built try to rally around me, even though I am not very good at accepting help.
I am still in the process of figuring out what will happen next, but some kind of surgery is likely. I feel so fortunate to have health insurance and access to very good medical care so that I can face this dilemma without additional worry. I hope to be back on my feet again soon, so that I can get back to the busy life I want to be living.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Morning Perfection in Four Pictures
Mornings around here can be pretty crazy. Marc will tell you that I get so stressed out some days, that I am horrible to be around. So on a recent morning when everything was calm and quiet, I had to document it. My perfect morning means I get the kitchen clean, both kids play on their own without haggling over toys, and Marc gets a bit of computer time. Awesome.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Are Your Weekends Like This?
Lately I've been feeling a bit over-scheduled. We've had a few weekends in a row where we've had morning and afternoon plans for both days of the weekend, if not a marathon string of events. It's all my own fault, as I could easily say no to something. But with little available free time during the week, and the alternative being bored kids who just want to watch TV, it seems better to be keeping busy.
Last weekend, we decided to take the kids to the Institute of Contemporary Art for their free, kid-friendly "ICA Playdate" series. We had a great time taking Hannah to the same event a couple years ago. The museum itself is gorgeous, with it's view and giant glass elevator. The permanent collection though is rather small and, at this time, wasn't all that kid friendly. It seems that this event has become more popular as well (can you do better than indoors and free during a 10 degree day?), which meant everything was terribly overcrowded. So it wasn't the greatest outing, but I'm glad we tried. We'll definitely head back to the ICA when the kids get older, and go on a day when you have to pay the price of admission.
Sunday was jam packed. I first ran to Rosenfeld's, our favorite bagel shop, to pick up breakfast. Then Marc took Hannah to religious school and attended a special tefillin minyan. I brought Max to synagogue an hour later to attend a Tu Bishvat event for the under 5 crowd. Max didn't actually get involved in the activities, but Marc and I had fun catching up with everyone. Marc took Max home while I picked up Hannah and we picked up some lunch for everyone. After lunch I spent an hour trying to convince Max to nap while Marc did a fast grocery run, then Marc actually got him to nap while I took Hannah to a play date that ended up being fun for both of us. Unfortunately we had to leave early to attend a concert by Josh Nelson, a Jewish musician, back at our synagogue. The concert was great though, so we were glad we made the effort. Afterward Marc left the three of us to attend another event so I got the kids dinner, had a little dance party and then got everyone off to bed. A long, but fun day!
This coming weekend looks crazy too - Max has two birthday parties, Hannah has a play date, we need to go buy her a flower girl dress, religious school, and the kids and I are being filmed as part of a synagogue project on the descendants of Holocaust survivors. I'm tired just thinking about it!
So, are your weekends like this too? If not, how are you doing it differently?
Last weekend, we decided to take the kids to the Institute of Contemporary Art for their free, kid-friendly "ICA Playdate" series. We had a great time taking Hannah to the same event a couple years ago. The museum itself is gorgeous, with it's view and giant glass elevator. The permanent collection though is rather small and, at this time, wasn't all that kid friendly. It seems that this event has become more popular as well (can you do better than indoors and free during a 10 degree day?), which meant everything was terribly overcrowded. So it wasn't the greatest outing, but I'm glad we tried. We'll definitely head back to the ICA when the kids get older, and go on a day when you have to pay the price of admission.
Sunday was jam packed. I first ran to Rosenfeld's, our favorite bagel shop, to pick up breakfast. Then Marc took Hannah to religious school and attended a special tefillin minyan. I brought Max to synagogue an hour later to attend a Tu Bishvat event for the under 5 crowd. Max didn't actually get involved in the activities, but Marc and I had fun catching up with everyone. Marc took Max home while I picked up Hannah and we picked up some lunch for everyone. After lunch I spent an hour trying to convince Max to nap while Marc did a fast grocery run, then Marc actually got him to nap while I took Hannah to a play date that ended up being fun for both of us. Unfortunately we had to leave early to attend a concert by Josh Nelson, a Jewish musician, back at our synagogue. The concert was great though, so we were glad we made the effort. Afterward Marc left the three of us to attend another event so I got the kids dinner, had a little dance party and then got everyone off to bed. A long, but fun day!
This coming weekend looks crazy too - Max has two birthday parties, Hannah has a play date, we need to go buy her a flower girl dress, religious school, and the kids and I are being filmed as part of a synagogue project on the descendants of Holocaust survivors. I'm tired just thinking about it!
So, are your weekends like this too? If not, how are you doing it differently?
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Being Sick, Well, Sucks.
Max has been sick this week. I don't want to say much about it because it's been so awful, but in the end he'll have gone to the doctor five times in six days, assuming tomorrow's visit is the last one and it goes well. He's had blood work and a chest x-ray, driven by very high fevers and very labored breathing. He's on antibiotics now and is getting back to his normal, rambunctious self, but it's been a scary, stressful week. I feel so fortunate that it wasn't something more serious, and that the drugs are doing their job to fix him. But yea, this experience has totally sucked.
Hannah Turns Six
Just four days after we celebrate Max, we get to celebrate all over again with Hannah's birthday. It's hard to believe I've been a mom for six years already, but she's there in all of her lovely, enthusiastic, caring self to prove that it's true.
Hannah's birthday was on a Tuesday this year, and she was excited to be in school for it. She got a certificate and special "birthday pencil" from the principal and her class made her a giant card. Parents can come in to help celebrate, but Hannah decided she'd rather we didn't come in. She chose The Cheesecake Factory for her birthday dinner, and the four of us had a nice meal together.
The following Sunday was her party, at Build-a-Bear Workshop at the Natick Collection. Ten of Hannah's girlfriends joined her and Max to pick, stuff and clothe new bears. Afterward we trekked across the mall to the food court for a pull-apart cupcake cake. I think everyone had a great time, and aside from some drama with a lost (and then found) coat, it went really well. Grandma Fillis and Grandpa John were a great help, and we all had a nice dinner together after the party.
Hannah is an amazing girl. She is very sensitive and cares deeply about her family (particularly Max) and her friends. She's very curious about the world and wants to understand how things work and why it's so. Hannah is at such a great stage of life, where she is now so independent and can do much for herself, but still wants to hug her mom several times a day. She's doing really well in school, learning to read and working hard, and now has the presence to stop and ask when she hears a word she doesn't understand, rather than let it sail past her. She is beautiful, generous, funny and kind, and I couldn't ask for a better daughter. Happy birthday, Hannahbelle.
Hannah's birthday was on a Tuesday this year, and she was excited to be in school for it. She got a certificate and special "birthday pencil" from the principal and her class made her a giant card. Parents can come in to help celebrate, but Hannah decided she'd rather we didn't come in. She chose The Cheesecake Factory for her birthday dinner, and the four of us had a nice meal together.
The following Sunday was her party, at Build-a-Bear Workshop at the Natick Collection. Ten of Hannah's girlfriends joined her and Max to pick, stuff and clothe new bears. Afterward we trekked across the mall to the food court for a pull-apart cupcake cake. I think everyone had a great time, and aside from some drama with a lost (and then found) coat, it went really well. Grandma Fillis and Grandpa John were a great help, and we all had a nice dinner together after the party.
Hannah is an amazing girl. She is very sensitive and cares deeply about her family (particularly Max) and her friends. She's very curious about the world and wants to understand how things work and why it's so. Hannah is at such a great stage of life, where she is now so independent and can do much for herself, but still wants to hug her mom several times a day. She's doing really well in school, learning to read and working hard, and now has the presence to stop and ask when she hears a word she doesn't understand, rather than let it sail past her. She is beautiful, generous, funny and kind, and I couldn't ask for a better daughter. Happy birthday, Hannahbelle.
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