29 September 2008
24 September 2008
Long month, bright spot
First, it was the cancer diagnosis.
Then, it was some idiots at my workplace who decided it would be brilliant to take their Bid Day Bash off campus to a rural area two counties away. They d@mn near killed a freshman from alcohol poisoning in the process.
Last, my son was diagnosed with eczema. We suspected he had it; a rash that never disappeared confirmed it yesterday.
However, I love our pediatrician.
As she's looking at the poor boy's itchy armpits, she asks about flu mist. I dither, like I always do, then remember, my mom's going to be immunocompromised for months, duh. Yes, I say, we need the mist. My mom starts chemo next month.
Our ped immediate stops what she is doing, and asks, "How's she doing?" Oh, she's fine, I say. She follows up, looking right in my eyes, "How are *you* doing?"
That's the sign of a good doctor. My well-being immediately reflects on the kids, because my stress trickles down to them.
After saying that while the diagnosis was a shock, I'm okay now, she says that if we need anything, she'll make sure it happens. She's going to make sure we get in for the second shot of flu mist ASAP. She'll have a chat with the eldest at her checkup in a few months, just to reassure her that because Grandma has cancer does NOT mean she'll get it. Our worrywart needs to hear this from someone other than me.
I love our ped. She's one of the best docs we've ever had. So, Dr. K, if you stumble on this, I just want you to know that we appreciate everything you do for us.
Then, it was some idiots at my workplace who decided it would be brilliant to take their Bid Day Bash off campus to a rural area two counties away. They d@mn near killed a freshman from alcohol poisoning in the process.
Last, my son was diagnosed with eczema. We suspected he had it; a rash that never disappeared confirmed it yesterday.
However, I love our pediatrician.
As she's looking at the poor boy's itchy armpits, she asks about flu mist. I dither, like I always do, then remember, my mom's going to be immunocompromised for months, duh. Yes, I say, we need the mist. My mom starts chemo next month.
Our ped immediate stops what she is doing, and asks, "How's she doing?" Oh, she's fine, I say. She follows up, looking right in my eyes, "How are *you* doing?"
That's the sign of a good doctor. My well-being immediately reflects on the kids, because my stress trickles down to them.
After saying that while the diagnosis was a shock, I'm okay now, she says that if we need anything, she'll make sure it happens. She's going to make sure we get in for the second shot of flu mist ASAP. She'll have a chat with the eldest at her checkup in a few months, just to reassure her that because Grandma has cancer does NOT mean she'll get it. Our worrywart needs to hear this from someone other than me.
I love our ped. She's one of the best docs we've ever had. So, Dr. K, if you stumble on this, I just want you to know that we appreciate everything you do for us.
21 September 2008
Cancer strikes us again.
Wondering where I've been? Well, grad school, thesis writing, freelancing and soccer season have kept me busy.
Three weeks ago, I added something heavier to the mix of stuff to do.
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 58.
She's always been fairly obsessive about getting her mammograms. She had a good friend die after a long fight against breast cancer in the '80s. So when something didn't look right, she went to get checked three weeks ago.
One mammogram, one ultrasound, one biopsy later, she was diagnosed with early stage one cancer on her left side.
The good news: It is stage one. It wasn't in her lymph nodes when she had a mastectomy last week. It's a highly treatable form that was caught early; there's a 95% survival rate.
The bad news: She's going to have chemo. We're waiting on the path report and the oncologists' plan for what mix will work best and how long she'll have to take it.
So, to my girlfriends and other Mommy-Tracked mom readers out there: Go get your baselines done. Now. Today. Before the new year. And be vigilant. My mom's type does not present as a lump. Usually there is no sign. Unless you get it checked out, you could be a lot further along the stages than you'd like.
Add a pink ribbon to your social networking sites for us, and prayers, love and support are welcome. But we aren't going to let this get us down. It's not all bad news; a lot of it is quite good. It will not be much fun for the next few months, but it will be over with and dealt with soon enough.
Three weeks ago, I added something heavier to the mix of stuff to do.
My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 58.
She's always been fairly obsessive about getting her mammograms. She had a good friend die after a long fight against breast cancer in the '80s. So when something didn't look right, she went to get checked three weeks ago.
One mammogram, one ultrasound, one biopsy later, she was diagnosed with early stage one cancer on her left side.
The good news: It is stage one. It wasn't in her lymph nodes when she had a mastectomy last week. It's a highly treatable form that was caught early; there's a 95% survival rate.
The bad news: She's going to have chemo. We're waiting on the path report and the oncologists' plan for what mix will work best and how long she'll have to take it.
So, to my girlfriends and other Mommy-Tracked mom readers out there: Go get your baselines done. Now. Today. Before the new year. And be vigilant. My mom's type does not present as a lump. Usually there is no sign. Unless you get it checked out, you could be a lot further along the stages than you'd like.
Add a pink ribbon to your social networking sites for us, and prayers, love and support are welcome. But we aren't going to let this get us down. It's not all bad news; a lot of it is quite good. It will not be much fun for the next few months, but it will be over with and dealt with soon enough.
09 September 2008
26 August 2008
Amen, sister!
"Because we want our children — and all children in this nation — to know that the only limit to the height of your achievements is the reach of your dreams and your willingness to work for them."
~Michelle Obama, Democratic National Convention, Monday, Aug. 25, 2008
~Michelle Obama, Democratic National Convention, Monday, Aug. 25, 2008
21 August 2008
Sniff. Sniff. Not ready. At all.
We just dropped our baby off at preschool this morning. She took her Dora "packpack" and her Tinkerbell lunchbox in hand, tugged my husband across the parking lot, and happily marched off to Mrs. McE's room.
Just like her brother, she practically shoved us out the door. High fives, hugs, kisses, then see ya.
Four years ago to the day, I was bemoaning the aches and pains of pregnancy; I was wishing she'd pop out and spare me misery. How on earth did she grow so fast? It's been a blur.
Her brother ran into his first grade room, hugged his teacher, and then went to hang up his backpack. I might as well not have showed up. I was a pack horse to carry school supplies, that's it.
Our eldest, all long and lanky and beautiful, raced up the steps to the level where the junior high is. She's a 7th grader. So not ready for this. It seems like just yesterday I was fighting with school administrators to have her skip a year. I wouldn't wish that back, because she's smart and witty and needs to be challenged academically. But she's so mature. So old.
They are still my babies, but they are so not my babies any more.
Just like her brother, she practically shoved us out the door. High fives, hugs, kisses, then see ya.
Four years ago to the day, I was bemoaning the aches and pains of pregnancy; I was wishing she'd pop out and spare me misery. How on earth did she grow so fast? It's been a blur.
Her brother ran into his first grade room, hugged his teacher, and then went to hang up his backpack. I might as well not have showed up. I was a pack horse to carry school supplies, that's it.
Our eldest, all long and lanky and beautiful, raced up the steps to the level where the junior high is. She's a 7th grader. So not ready for this. It seems like just yesterday I was fighting with school administrators to have her skip a year. I wouldn't wish that back, because she's smart and witty and needs to be challenged academically. But she's so mature. So old.
They are still my babies, but they are so not my babies any more.
18 August 2008
Nine down, three to go
Straight As.
I rock!
(Oh, and said paper that needed to be revised for a conference submission? Still haven't done it. Will do it tomorrow. Freelance work got in the way.)
I have three courses to go over the next two semesters. Two seated, one dissertation (I get three hours for writing it.) I'm really trying to crank up the energy to get through this, but I'm wiped. Summer session took a lot more out of me than I expected. Somehow, in the next 10 days, I have to get mentally back in the game.
I rock!
(Oh, and said paper that needed to be revised for a conference submission? Still haven't done it. Will do it tomorrow. Freelance work got in the way.)
I have three courses to go over the next two semesters. Two seated, one dissertation (I get three hours for writing it.) I'm really trying to crank up the energy to get through this, but I'm wiped. Summer session took a lot more out of me than I expected. Somehow, in the next 10 days, I have to get mentally back in the game.
08 August 2008
I *heart* Google Scholar
I'm in the process of revising a paper to submit to the Midwest Communication Conference. I needed to find some very specific, on-point research. Research on a trend that is fairly new and hasn't been studied much yet, because it is so new.
I looked through the university database system and found a little, but not enough.
On a whim, I put the search terms in Google Scholar.
Ding. Everything I needed and more. Newly published research that hadn't hit the databases yet. I could search on terms within texts, have it highlighted right on the page, skim, determine if it would work or not, and then move on.
What would have taken me days in the old (or weeks in the old, old microfiche, Dewey Decimal System) way took me a matter of hours. Now I can block out time to revise the paper this weekend and be done with it.
Excellent.
I looked through the university database system and found a little, but not enough.
On a whim, I put the search terms in Google Scholar.
Ding. Everything I needed and more. Newly published research that hadn't hit the databases yet. I could search on terms within texts, have it highlighted right on the page, skim, determine if it would work or not, and then move on.
What would have taken me days in the old (or weeks in the old, old microfiche, Dewey Decimal System) way took me a matter of hours. Now I can block out time to revise the paper this weekend and be done with it.
Excellent.
04 August 2008
What the hey?
When I was a reporter, we all dreaded heat waves. It was like everyone went insane when the temps topped 95. Woe to the poor schmucks working GA shifts during a heat wave. You might as well live at the cop shop, because the crime rate would spike with freaky stuff.
My cousin who used to be an ER nurse reported the same thing.
It is miserable hot right now where we live. In the past few days, it's been 90+ with humidity to steam you as you walk outside.
As a result, it seems like there's more crime stories than normal; all seem odd:
Tied-up victim
Tiger attack
Shooting
And then, to prove that even politics goes nuts:
Blunt and ice cream
My cousin who used to be an ER nurse reported the same thing.
It is miserable hot right now where we live. In the past few days, it's been 90+ with humidity to steam you as you walk outside.
As a result, it seems like there's more crime stories than normal; all seem odd:
And then, to prove that even politics goes nuts:
28 July 2008
"Say, Mom and Dad
Did you notice that it is a lot quieter without C1 around? Without her here telling us everything about everything?"
So sayeth our son this evening. Soda really hurts when you snort it through your nose, btw.
His older sister (C1) is away at camp. C2, our son, is right, it is quieter. Pleasantly so, because he and she fight like cats and dogs over every fact known to mankind.
For the next four days, the boy is top dog (or cat). He's loving every second of it.
I'm enjoying the silence in the car and at the dinner table. It's nice not playing factual or logical fallacy referee.
So sayeth our son this evening. Soda really hurts when you snort it through your nose, btw.
His older sister (C1) is away at camp. C2, our son, is right, it is quieter. Pleasantly so, because he and she fight like cats and dogs over every fact known to mankind.
For the next four days, the boy is top dog (or cat). He's loving every second of it.
I'm enjoying the silence in the car and at the dinner table. It's nice not playing factual or logical fallacy referee.
14 July 2008
Homework panic!
Amazingly, me. Not the kids.
It was midsummer break in my grad program. We had the week of the Fourth off. I looked at my online course assignments, then blissfully went to Hot Springs and crashed at the in-laws' place.
We came back. I dove into work. I finished one project.
The other, I would have sworn, was due on Saturday at midnight. But Friday night, after doing laundry and dinner and chasing kids off to bed, something niggled in my brain. I booted up the computer. Looked at one class. Nope, I was good in that one. Looked at the other class.
Dang. Due at midnight Friday. As in, 2 hours and 40 minutes away.
I somehow managed to pull together a short story in record time, and post it with about 20 minutes to spare.
I hereby promise to cut my kids one night of slack when they forget a homework assignment this fall. Humbled, thy name is Mommy-Tracked.
It was midsummer break in my grad program. We had the week of the Fourth off. I looked at my online course assignments, then blissfully went to Hot Springs and crashed at the in-laws' place.
We came back. I dove into work. I finished one project.
The other, I would have sworn, was due on Saturday at midnight. But Friday night, after doing laundry and dinner and chasing kids off to bed, something niggled in my brain. I booted up the computer. Looked at one class. Nope, I was good in that one. Looked at the other class.
Dang. Due at midnight Friday. As in, 2 hours and 40 minutes away.
I somehow managed to pull together a short story in record time, and post it with about 20 minutes to spare.
I hereby promise to cut my kids one night of slack when they forget a homework assignment this fall. Humbled, thy name is Mommy-Tracked.
08 July 2008
Glug.
Homework has got me down. Thank goodness I'll only have three classes left after this, and none will be online. I'm tired of writing.
28 June 2008
Very tired for this former Red Fed
I'm back from Girls State.
I only did four newspapers in two days. Whew.
I pulled off a newspaper with several 17- and 18-year-olds from across Missouri as we covered the creation of democracy, building it from the wards on up to the state level, with the final announcement of our Senators who will go to Girls Nation next month.
No clue how some of those women (some much older than I am) manage to pull off that schedule for seven days. I'm wiped.
It was inspirational. It was fun. It was exhausting.
I might even go back next year and do it again.
I only did four newspapers in two days. Whew.
I pulled off a newspaper with several 17- and 18-year-olds from across Missouri as we covered the creation of democracy, building it from the wards on up to the state level, with the final announcement of our Senators who will go to Girls Nation next month.
No clue how some of those women (some much older than I am) manage to pull off that schedule for seven days. I'm wiped.
It was inspirational. It was fun. It was exhausting.
I might even go back next year and do it again.
19 June 2008
Bugs.
We've been invaded by ants for weeks because of all the rain. So we've got ant traps everywhere. We'd spray, but it isn't dry enough long enough to be able to spray.
A new menace cropped up this week. Lice. Blech. One of the kids was infested at the Y camp. We caught it early (bless you Terri, my hairstylist who spotted them).
So, insecticide and combing. And laundry. And more laundry.
I hate bugs.
A new menace cropped up this week. Lice. Blech. One of the kids was infested at the Y camp. We caught it early (bless you Terri, my hairstylist who spotted them).
So, insecticide and combing. And laundry. And more laundry.
I hate bugs.
11 June 2008
Tired. So. Very. Tired.
I don't even understand why.
We did our annual staff retreat yesterday, and while it was sitting in a conference room, it was a conference room that looked out on a lake. I watched Great Blue Herons fish while I was half-listening. We went for a walk during a break.
It's not like I had a hard day. Yes, I worked out for a bit after work. I took the kids to swim lessons and read grad school stuff while I was there. None of it was what might be termed "exhausting."
I guess once I arrived home and finished making dinner, then did a few loads of laundry, flipped and vacuumed our mattress, okay, yes, that was physical labor. Again, not really out of the norm.
Yet when I woke up this morning, I was wiped out. So were all of my co-workers. We can't figure it out. It wasn't really hard, what any of us did yesterday. Yet we are all walking zombies today.
I have to slog through one more interview and one more meeting, then grocery shop, get the kids, go home, make dinner, get through piano lessons, finish laundry and maybe finish a proofing project. That's all more exhausting that yesterday was, as a whole.
Just strange.
We did our annual staff retreat yesterday, and while it was sitting in a conference room, it was a conference room that looked out on a lake. I watched Great Blue Herons fish while I was half-listening. We went for a walk during a break.
It's not like I had a hard day. Yes, I worked out for a bit after work. I took the kids to swim lessons and read grad school stuff while I was there. None of it was what might be termed "exhausting."
I guess once I arrived home and finished making dinner, then did a few loads of laundry, flipped and vacuumed our mattress, okay, yes, that was physical labor. Again, not really out of the norm.
Yet when I woke up this morning, I was wiped out. So were all of my co-workers. We can't figure it out. It wasn't really hard, what any of us did yesterday. Yet we are all walking zombies today.
I have to slog through one more interview and one more meeting, then grocery shop, get the kids, go home, make dinner, get through piano lessons, finish laundry and maybe finish a proofing project. That's all more exhausting that yesterday was, as a whole.
Just strange.
03 June 2008
Surfacing, then sinking
Sorry, we went on a longish vacation after grades came in, and hubby and I made it a point not to do ANYTHING. No computer. No news. Just slugging around, swimming, golfing, running (okay, well, me running), and relaxing.
It was wonderful.
Sadly, I'm back at work. Classes start tomorrow. We're carpooling, so that means that I'm stuck downtown longer than usual. On the upside, this forces me to actually make time to work out at the Y. On the downside, no one in this family eats dinner until after 7.
The next few weeks are busy. Beyond work and coursework, I have a freelance story to finish, a consulting gig to do, and I'm helping out at Missouri Girls State. I'm an alum, Crowder City 1993. I finally live close enough -- and have kids old enough to leave behind for a few days -- to help out.
So I'll post. Just not as frequently as usual (not that it was that frequent).
Enjoy the summer, folks!
It was wonderful.
Sadly, I'm back at work. Classes start tomorrow. We're carpooling, so that means that I'm stuck downtown longer than usual. On the upside, this forces me to actually make time to work out at the Y. On the downside, no one in this family eats dinner until after 7.
The next few weeks are busy. Beyond work and coursework, I have a freelance story to finish, a consulting gig to do, and I'm helping out at Missouri Girls State. I'm an alum, Crowder City 1993. I finally live close enough -- and have kids old enough to leave behind for a few days -- to help out.
So I'll post. Just not as frequently as usual (not that it was that frequent).
Enjoy the summer, folks!
21 May 2008
4.0, baby!
Grades are in.
Seven classes down.
4.0 average.
Five to go.
My brain is mush. It really needs to get back into shape by next Friday night, when my short-term course starts.
Thankfully, we'll be on a short vacation at the in-law's place soon. I need the easy access to running trails, coffee, and wine.
If all goes well, by this time next year, y'all will have to call me Master Mommy-Tracked. ;)
Seven classes down.
4.0 average.
Five to go.
My brain is mush. It really needs to get back into shape by next Friday night, when my short-term course starts.
Thankfully, we'll be on a short vacation at the in-law's place soon. I need the easy access to running trails, coffee, and wine.
If all goes well, by this time next year, y'all will have to call me Master Mommy-Tracked. ;)
14 May 2008
Wow. Just . . um, wow.
Let me preface this by saying that if I find out that any of my children do this in college, I'll throttle them for the profs.
I'm sitting here, on my lunch hour, frantically working on finishing my final project for marketing grad class presentation tonight.
Phone rings.
Undergraduate--who is not my student, btw: Um, hi.
Me: Hello, UC, can I help you?
Undergrad: Um, I heard that you have the capability to TiVo stuff.
---Aside: We do. We have three of 'em hooked up to record stuff for our news archive.---
Me: Well, what exactly are you looking for?
Undergrad: Well, um, like I'm working on my final project for a paper, and I need clips of the governor's races commercials. They are supposed to air for the first time, tonight. Can you clip those for me?
Me: Well, we do have TiVo, but we have it set up to clip items that we need for work. We don't have anyone on staff who can set this up for you right now. Currently, all of our student staff is gone. (This is true. The last techie left yesterday. We're slammed with work for commencement/board meeting. I'm not helping this guy out.)
Undergrad: Well, but I have no way to save those commercials to my computer.
Me: Sorry. I can't help you; there's no one here who can do the clips right now.
And I hung up.
This annoys me on three levels--
1) Who has the nerve to call an office out of the blue, on a long shot, and ask for a major favor like this? I don't know this guy from Adam. I might do it for a student I know and trust, but even then, I'm not trusting our glitchy TiVo setup to just anyone.
2) This guy acted like I would help him, if he just explained why he was in a hole. Not. My. Problem.
3) This guy should have, I don't know, PLANNED OUT a way to get the clips if they are so important to his paper.
I get that we are to be supportive and all, but I didn't bail my kindergartener out last night when he had to redo homework. I'm surely not saving some undergrad's skin when I'm frantically trying to do my work + my homework.
I'm sitting here, on my lunch hour, frantically working on finishing my final project for marketing grad class presentation tonight.
Phone rings.
Undergraduate--who is not my student, btw: Um, hi.
Me: Hello, UC, can I help you?
Undergrad: Um, I heard that you have the capability to TiVo stuff.
---Aside: We do. We have three of 'em hooked up to record stuff for our news archive.---
Me: Well, what exactly are you looking for?
Undergrad: Well, um, like I'm working on my final project for a paper, and I need clips of the governor's races commercials. They are supposed to air for the first time, tonight. Can you clip those for me?
Me: Well, we do have TiVo, but we have it set up to clip items that we need for work. We don't have anyone on staff who can set this up for you right now. Currently, all of our student staff is gone. (This is true. The last techie left yesterday. We're slammed with work for commencement/board meeting. I'm not helping this guy out.)
Undergrad: Well, but I have no way to save those commercials to my computer.
Me: Sorry. I can't help you; there's no one here who can do the clips right now.
And I hung up.
This annoys me on three levels--
1) Who has the nerve to call an office out of the blue, on a long shot, and ask for a major favor like this? I don't know this guy from Adam. I might do it for a student I know and trust, but even then, I'm not trusting our glitchy TiVo setup to just anyone.
2) This guy acted like I would help him, if he just explained why he was in a hole. Not. My. Problem.
3) This guy should have, I don't know, PLANNED OUT a way to get the clips if they are so important to his paper.
I get that we are to be supportive and all, but I didn't bail my kindergartener out last night when he had to redo homework. I'm surely not saving some undergrad's skin when I'm frantically trying to do my work + my homework.
09 May 2008
Miss Independent
My little one has become the most stubborn, willful, independent child in the past month.
She started pushing me away a month ago, when she told me, "I dwess myself" in the mornings. Then the morning snuggles stopped a few days later in favor of playing with her siblings. Then, she decided cuddling while watching TV was passe.
I love that she's becoming her own person, but darn it, I wasn't ready for this yet. I thought I had at least another year. Her brother was still having me dress him when he started kindergarten and I had to force him to dress himself.
I managed to persuade her to cuddle with me this morning for a few minutes, under the ruse of "help me wake Daddy." Those minutes were precious, because it showed to me how much she is growing up. She no longer easily fits curled into my body. She's half my height now (okay, that's not much, but still). She's a bouncy little kid, usually pretty cheerful, and well, she just doesn't want to need me much right now.
After months (years, really) of being clung to and needed, all three of my kids are pulling away at various degrees. My eldest was flirting with an old friend at a band concert last night (that's scary). My middle guy is proving that he's a perfectly capable person when it comes to doing things around the house (if he choses). My little one is practically shoving me out the door of her room most days (because, really, Miss Independent Fashionista doesn't need help).
It's bittersweet, I tell ya.
For Mother's Day, I want the following things: Art made by my munchkins, that I promise to frame and thirty-minutes of cuddle time with each of them -- with their undivided attention -- so I can enjoy those precious moments before they slip away completely from me.
She started pushing me away a month ago, when she told me, "I dwess myself" in the mornings. Then the morning snuggles stopped a few days later in favor of playing with her siblings. Then, she decided cuddling while watching TV was passe.
I love that she's becoming her own person, but darn it, I wasn't ready for this yet. I thought I had at least another year. Her brother was still having me dress him when he started kindergarten and I had to force him to dress himself.
I managed to persuade her to cuddle with me this morning for a few minutes, under the ruse of "help me wake Daddy." Those minutes were precious, because it showed to me how much she is growing up. She no longer easily fits curled into my body. She's half my height now (okay, that's not much, but still). She's a bouncy little kid, usually pretty cheerful, and well, she just doesn't want to need me much right now.
After months (years, really) of being clung to and needed, all three of my kids are pulling away at various degrees. My eldest was flirting with an old friend at a band concert last night (that's scary). My middle guy is proving that he's a perfectly capable person when it comes to doing things around the house (if he choses). My little one is practically shoving me out the door of her room most days (because, really, Miss Independent Fashionista doesn't need help).
It's bittersweet, I tell ya.
For Mother's Day, I want the following things: Art made by my munchkins, that I promise to frame and thirty-minutes of cuddle time with each of them -- with their undivided attention -- so I can enjoy those precious moments before they slip away completely from me.
03 May 2008
Prayers for friends
who lost their firstborn last week. He was due to be born in July.
Instead they will be having a funeral on Wednesday.
Sometimes, without knowing the rhyme or reason, life just sucks. How is it possible that teen starlets (I'm looking at you, Ms. Spears x 2) can have kids, and good people who would be great parents don't get the chance?
Instead they will be having a funeral on Wednesday.
Sometimes, without knowing the rhyme or reason, life just sucks. How is it possible that teen starlets (I'm looking at you, Ms. Spears x 2) can have kids, and good people who would be great parents don't get the chance?
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