Days of Argh

This morning barely seems like morning as I awaken disoriented, dry-mouthed, thick-eyed; crumpled snot-filled tissues forming a crackly halo about my throbbing head. The light seeping in through the gaps between the blinds is wan, green, presaging a stormy day; dank and heavy.

It's not how Rosh Hashannah should be, these Days of Awe nearly always crisp and autumnal, sporting achingly blue skies to be glimpsed longingly from inside the synagogue's hush and thrum.

But I have not been this year, sending the menfolk off without me, this virus hitting hard as the holiday's just begun. We have managed the bare minimum tradition requires: a round challah procured, apples honey-dipped, a family meal shared, a sweet new year requested.

And now all I long for is sleep, sleep, sleep. And the room to stop spinning. And the unholy pile of dishes in the sink to wash themselves. And for my mother to walk again.

No matter how far I go in my thoughts, it keeps coming back to that: this huge lump of sadness lodged deep under my heart like that bubble of acid that would not go away throughout my entire pregnancy, spilling out if I tilted just the tiniest bit off true, to the left or right.

My mother has not been my compass for many years, yet I am hers. All she has left. But I am spinning, spinning, spinning right now, unable to find my North.

The storm outside will not come on, teasing all day with skies darkening and lightening and the air growing thicker and thicker until we are all covered in a sheen of our own sweat though we are doing nothing more strenuous than engaging in yet another internecine battle of the homework wars.

Finally, as dusk comes on and the winds begin to lash, the heavens clearly ready to finally open up at any moment, I must leave the apartment for the first time in days, driven by an empty medicine bottle of Jacob's plus the deep need see something other than these walls and my children.

But one insists on coming with: Ethan who will not be separated, even though that age is coming on soon when I will be the one clinging and fearfully watching his back as he strides away. He proceeds to be helpful, carrying bags as we make a few stops to stock our waning pantry as well as pick up his brother's necessary pills.

By the time we trudge back, laden, dying to peel off the rain jackets that were not really necessary but instead have encased us in our own steamy dampness, it has grown near dark and the wind pushes against our bodies, something substantial to resist, fight against, instead of each other, as we find our way home.

SOC Sunday: Sweet and Sour and Harlem Globetrotters

It has been a loooong time since I've participated in Stream of Consciousness Sunday. So long that when I went to find it at Fadra's joint, I found it had moved... to Jana's Thinking Place. Well, okay then.

What I have tonight is not a post, really, it's a brain dump. And since that's the definition of Stream of Consciousness Sunday, I thought: perfect! And then when the optional prompt for this week turned out to be "Who has dropped into your life and made it better?" -- even better! Because I was planning to write about a wonderful serendipitous connection, although it's group, not an individual, but still, they did quite just drop in.

So, here goes...

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Tonight is the start of Rosh Hashanah - the Jewish New Year - and we have done virtually nothing to mark it, because Danny and I are both under the weather, big time, with a nasty cold/flu/virus.

I am sick as that proverbial dog today: sore throat, chills, body aches, nausea, snot galore, clogged ears, dizzy, woozy; you name it, I've got it.  Dan is over the worst of it but still dragging his ass, and down for the count as soon as he starts to build up steam, trying to get anything done.

So the New Year which is supposed to be marked with sweetness and family and apples dipped in honey has turned into my lying on the sofa wishing the kids could possibly be quieter and just let me sleep.  I sneak off into the bedroom for short bouts of slumber but they follow me in there, not wanting to be disconnected. This is the weekend, dammit, THEIR time.

Lousy timing to be this sick, four days off for the kids and all I want is for them to be elsewhere so I can be sick and sleep in relative peace.

Also? I was supposed to write my first big post for this cool thing that dropped int my lap - I am a Harlem Globetrotters associate blogger now! (I will be at and promoting their October 7th game* in Brooklyn)

So as such, I was invited to a meet and greet and PLAY BALL with some of them this past Thursday and so I grabbed Ethan and away we went...

Ethan and I and the HARLEM GLOBETROTTERS, yo!

There is a whole large post here, that I do not have the energy or brain cells to write yet, but I wanted to say SOMETHING sooner than later, because it was a wonderful experience for us. Ethan got to go 1-on-1 with professional ballplayers. For a basketball-loving kid that is just the greatest, sweetest thing in the world.

And know what they said? He got game. Uh, huh.

So even though I'm feeling mighty sour right now, there is some sweetness too, as we head into this New year.

Happy 5773 y'all.  L'Shanah Tovah. (Cough cough cough, ack!)

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New to SOCS?  It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump.  Want to try it?  Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spell-checking. This is writing in the raw.

You can do it, too!  Click on the picture link and let's hear your 5 minutes of brilliance...

 
*I have a discount code that gets you $7 off each ticket to the Globetrotters local game - at Barclays Center in Brooklyn (the Nets new home) - on October 7th at 5 PM. I will be there with the whole family and it should be a great fun family event.

Click on this link: GLOBETROTTERS BROOKLYN EVENT and then the "Buy Tickets" link on that page, and then enter SQUASHED in the "Promotions and Special Offers" section.

**Disclosure: I am being compensated for my promotion of the Globetrotters in two ways. As an associate I will be receiving a small percentage of the money for tickets sold with my discount code. I will also receive tickets to the game for my family. All opinions of the Globetrotters and my experiences with them are unbiased and wholly my own.**

Just a Friday Scatterfield

Well, it's not Sunday, but I'm feeling all stream-of-consciousness-y anyway; it's not Monday, but I am happily, simply being me; it's not Tuesday, but I want to just. write.

So I'm going to go for it. You'll bear with me, right? OK, then, spinning the brain cells and seeing where they land...

What a week it has been. Not the week I planned to have, for sure.

Nobody plans on getting a letter sent home in their kid's school backpack telling them that a teacher's aide in the school has been arrested for abusing a child there last week. (No, NOT my son, thank goodness.)

Nobody plans on being sick as dog and dizzy as a dervish for three straight days running.

Nobody plans on spending most of their one non-ill day at a Social Security office, trying to straighten out their elderly mother's paperwork, only to find out that everything the people on the phone had told them they needed was wrong, and they have to go home and get a whole OTHER set of documents and come back to try again next week.  

But, as we used to tell the kids, sometimes, you just get what you get, so why get upset?

And hanging out in the Social Security office wasn't a total loss. We got to be entertained by a very cheesy video about filing for retirement, starring Patty Duke and George Takei. Don't believe me? Here's a bit of print support material:

Boldly going out to pasture, and looking just so damn happy about it.

And you know? Right now at this very moment (wait, hold your breath, it may not last long) I miraculously feel happier than I have felt in a long time. And for absolutely no justifiable reason.

Maybe it's the lift that comes from finally feeling physically a bit better, near human-like, even, after days of dregs-living, ass-dragging, simian-reductive misery. One of those viruses that get into your middle ear and knock your gyroscope all wobbly, so any motion sets off the dizzies and horizontal is the only way to go.

Maybe it was the lasting glow from attending Ethan's "Colonial Stories" class publishing party this morning. Ethan's essay on colonial entertainments was fun and lovely, and I learned what the Scrabble word "Quoits" means, again. The way too delicious homemade pumpkin bread may have helped, too.

Maybe it was the wind scouring the sky clear of clouds so the golden light of day's end washed over the city, turning cold stone buildings into fiery fairy castles.

They say a strong wind will blow the aura right off your body, so maybe I was scrubbed clean too, maybe it blew the negativity clear off me along with the shredded plastic bags that danced before us as Jake and I walked along Riverside Drive, holding onto our hats.

"The wind! The wind, Mommy!" he exclaimed, still, in his glorious innocence, excited and surprised by nature.

Me? I'm excited and surprised by this serendipitous happiness; hoping to waft on these upward breezes, as long as they blow.

Long may they blow.

I'm linking up to Maxabella's I'm grateful for... because, well, I am feeling grateful.

Looking for comments? To read or leave a comment, click on THIS post's title, or HERE, to bring you to the post's page view. Comments should appear below.

Friday? Really?

(This photo has nothing to do with anything in this post.)

Today is Friday? Really?

How did that happen? It was just Monday, like, 10 minutes ago.

Wasn't it?

No?

(Insert much cursing here, especially the word that is alliterative with the day of the week it actually is today.)

I have gotten nothing done. NOTHING.

I've been sick as a dog all week.

A few different things all converging.

Including - TMI WARNING: LOOK AWAY IF YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT GIRL-PART RELATED THINGS - my first period in 3 months that came on like gang-busters and has knocked me completely on my ass for 3 days. I know last year I told you all I thought maybe I was done with all this.

Not quite.

Instead I've been continuing on, regularly irregular, for the past year.

Fun. (Not.)

And today Ethan was home sick, too, with the same sore-throat-voice-stealing-nasty-cold I've got.

So I have had to scrape myself off the sofa to bring care and comfort to him all day. Because sick kids need their Mom. Right?

And while sometimes I find hard times inspirational? Not this week. This week I have had neither the energy nor motivation to write anything.

I feel lumpen.

Completely.

And yet my blog is staring at me, glaring at me, with a Monday date on my last post. 

(Insert more cursing here.)

I got... nothing.

And not the wonderful nothing like my friend Neil's amazing post last week.

Serious nothing.

(Although I have stolen a page from him and included an instagram photo since I figure if I've given you nothing really to read I should at least give you something semi-interesting to look at.)

My mojo is missing.

My lyricism has left the building.

But I am feeling sad in the silence.

I miss you guys.

Even if I have nothing more to say than: Hello. I'm still here. I'll pull through this all, and hopefully be back sometime soon with words wiser and worth reading.

And until then?

(Insert more cursing here.)


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Stream of Consciousness Sunday: Anti-life

Sunday!  Again!  Time for the wonderful:

OK, sorry for this one, folks.  Please forgive just one more whiny rant. Then I am DONE!

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"Antibiotics" means anti-life. and I don't take them often (less than once a year) and I hate talking them, but when they're necessary they make all the difference in the world.

How much do I hate how much I have been whining and whingeing on my blog lately, going on & on about how awful I feel? a LOT. I apologize. I don;t like being a whiney whiner. It is just the convergence of so much crap.

Just as I was FINALLy feeling about 90% recovered from my January's gall bladder surgery? I came down with a stupid head cold. It seemed like nothing much at first, annoying, but then instead of getting better it lingered, got worse, and I started feeling just generally awful, deeply fatigued.

I kept carrying on, and stupidly, of course, on a day I felt a little better I went out and got everything done that I had not been able to do on the down days preceding it, causing me to completely fall apart the next day. I have kids, one with autism, I have a mother who needs to go to doctors. Mom's not allowed to be sick, remember?

This past friday I FINALY hauled myself off to doctor who diagnosed me with a really nasty sinus infection PLUS bronchitis.  He was even saying things like "Wow, that's really inflamed in there!" Um, not what you really want to hear from a man with a scope up your nose. And can I say OW! that's the first time anyone ever did that to me. and? It fucking HURTS! Especially when you're infected and inflamed (Duh!)

Anyway, I'm on this really nasty heavy duty antibiotic (Levaquin if you must know). I HATE this antibiotic passionately. It is anti-life. And the crazy thing? I ASKED for it. I said to the doctor: let's pretend you gave me a Z-pack and I took it and then started feeling better but as soon as it was two days past my last dose I strted feeling worse again and came back to you and then you prescribed the evil but effective Levaquin.  Let's just skip that whole first part and cut to the chase, give me the bad shit.

(OK I didn't say "shit" to the Doctor, just thought it loudly) Because Levaquin, for me?  It completely knocks me on my ass with intense fatigue, constant low-grade nausea and  dizziness / wooziness. And did I mention how expensive it is? $13 dollars a PILL is my CO-PAY.  But also?  It fucking works. (It also, apparently, causes me to curse much more frequently in my blog than usual, sorry!)

SO this is my LAST whiny rant about feeling like shit.  Even if I keel over tomorrow, I won't blog about it - promise!

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OK, I went a little over 5 minutes. So sue me. 

Also?  Did I mention that it's 6 AM and I have not really been to bed. Because besides knocking me on my ass?  This antibiotic also makes me wired and jittery.

So the 2 hours of sleep I got sitting up on the sofa is all I'm getting tonight.  So it's going to be FUN being me (or married to me) today.

Cheers, folks! 

New to Stream of Consciousness Sundays?  Here's the beef:

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spell-checking. This is writing in the raw.

You can do it, too!  Click on the link and let's hear your 5 (or so) minutes of brilliance...

R is for Really Wretched

R is for Rat's Ass, as in I don't...

R is for Really wretched, as in how I feel today.

I am sorry to say you will find nothing brilliant or inspired here today. It takes a certain energy to be thoughtful, either mental or physical; ideally both. And I clearly have neither today.

I am more: Just let me survive today.

I am trying to dredge up some cute story of my kids, something, anything, to justify this post's existence, but I am hard pressed to even come up with noun and verbs that fit together coherently in a sentence. You want adjectives? Adverbs? Metaphors and poetic language? Barking up the wrong tree today, kids.

And, true confession here: I, who am a generally good speller? Forgot that "Wretched" had a "W" at the beginning of it. Wrote this whole damn post about "Retched" and then went: Ack! (face-palm)

Obviously, my brain is not firing on all cylinders, rather just limping along.

This is now Day 10 of being sick. All week, this has been me:

Did I wake the kids up, feed them breakfast, dress them in weather appropriate clothing, make their lunches, pack their backpacks, include homework folders, sign all necessary permission slip, write all necessary teacher notes? Did I get Jake down to his bus on time, did I get Ethan to the yard on time to make it into the regular entry line?

GOOD. Now I can go climb back under the covers until it is 2:30 And time to go pick up Ethan, rush home to meet Jacob’s bus, make dinners, oversee homework, keep the boys from killing each other, get them fed, bathed, read to and tucked in, and start the whole thing over again.

I am waiting to have one extra ounce of energy, but until then: hunkered down in survival mode.

Having not gotten a call from one of their schools that I forgot to send lunch or sneakers for Gym day or to pick one of them up? I consider that a huge win.

Next week I promise more reflective thoughtful words will flow out of me. But for now? Back to my really wretched just-getting-by existence.

(And yes I am going to the doctor today after drop-off. 10 days is just too long to feel like this.)

This post has been inspired by and linked up to Jenny Matlock's Alphabe-Thursday writing meme.  I "R" tired of being sick.

P.S. I know it's supposed to be Alphabe-Thursday, and today is Friday, but yesterday was the 10th of the month, my Hopeful Parents Day, so I'm one day late (but not a dollar short).  Not the end of the world, right?

UPDATE: Went to the doctor, I do indeed have a nasty sinus and bronchial infection.  I am now on copious super-strong antibiotics, hope to feel better as soon as I am off them (because antibiotics like these knock me on my ass, too).  Thanks for all the concern and well wishes!

Wordless Wednesday: Thank Goodness

Thank goodness for Wordless Wednesday today, as I am still deep in the muck of this nasty, nasty cold and couldn't pull a "real" post together if my life depended on it (and thank goodness it doesn't).

After dropping Ethan off at school and running a couple of errands this morning I got home and lay down in bed "for a few minutes." I woke up just in time to go downstairs to meet Jacob's school bus. At 4 pm. Really.

Every time I went out, I felt as if the wind and cold were attacking me, personally. And taking the weather personally? Something I do not normally ever do. So I am clearly not in my right head, thinking fuzzy.

So I think I am all done with these word things for today, better stick to photos. May I present my week in pictures:

Remember what I'd said about my car looking more like a snowbank? 

Before: Yes, there IS a car in there!

Well, this week all the snow emergencies were over and they finally brought back alternate side parking regulations, so it had to move! Luckily some time had passed since it looked like THAT and I was able to get it moved, see:

After: Free at last!

The wonderful Jen from The King and Eye and Irish Autism Action was over from Ireland, visiting New York City with her Mum. In spite of feeling like crud, I went out to dinner with them and it was delightful. (There's nothing like meeting an good cyber-friend for the first time!)

Jen & I at a magic little spot on the Upper West Side: Cafe Lalo

Jake had Basketball, as usual, on Saturday. The big kid buddies are awesome. (And some of them are REALLY tall.)

Jake (Mr. Yellow) is a good shot!

On Sunday, I took Jake and my Mom to a Music for Autism interactive concert. I am not going to go on and on about them here (there's a whole post in that, coming soon) but it was AWESOME and we all had a great time, including hanging out with my Twitter friend SherriPizza & her son.

Jake LOVES music!

Music for Autism concerts are noisy and busy!

Ethan had a parents-welcome demonstration in his after-school fencing class:

One for all and all for one!

 I took my Mom to the doctor for a routine check-up. All is well!

Not bad for 88, right?

Monday night? I should have been in bed with the covers pulled up over my head. Instead I ventured out into the rainy night to hang out with about 25 other NYC bloggers.  Since I had tweeted this event into existence, I really had to show up, ya know?  We were mostly, but not all Moms; mostly, but not all women; mostly, but not all NYC (some had braved NJ Transit and MetroNorth trains to get there). We had a blast:

Hanging with the bloggers at the Brickyard!

Bloggers really like to talk! (Who knew?)

(Next one is in April. Tweet me if you want the info.)

And... it's a wrap!

I’m linking up to Wordless Wednesday at Angry Julie Monday.
I'm also linked to Special Exposure Wednesday at 5 Minutes for Special Needs

Mom is not allowed to be sick

Sorry, to be whining again.  It's just a cold, a basic stupid rotten head cold.  I feel like crap, but can scrape myself off the floor to function when I have to; the children are fed and looked after.

But I've got laryngitis, barely any voice, and what there is is so raspy that no one can hear me on cell phones.  How much I call out to the boys from one room to another?  I have no idea until I can no longer do it.

I need to traipse into the living/dining room from the kitchen to communicate anything and everything, including such bits of wisdom as: "take your feet off your brother" during dinner.  (Because, being in NYC, we cannot actually eat in our narrow cooking-only kitchen, and so the 10,000 times I need to get up during dinner to get something or other?  Means walking a long room away and back.)

And now, Ethan?  Came into the living room this afternoon telling me he felt oh, so cold when the room was rather warm.  Hand to forehead brought suspicions, thermometer checked, and yes indeed: 101.6. Damn.

And wouldn't you know it?  This afternoon was to have brought to fruition a plan months in the making: a play-date with a classmate, long discussed, finally scheduled.  Oh, well.

And I'm actually hoping Ethan has my head cold, and not the horrible stomach virus that is going around these parts.

Evidence is pointing towards the positive: Motrin taken, he's dropped down into the 90's and not shot back up yet; he still has somewhat of an appetite, downing a mere five instead of his usual ten chicken nuggets for dinner.

Jacob may or may not succumb.  The ridiculous amount of vitamins and supplements he takes appears to have been successful in giving him an iron clad immune system.  Nine-tenths of the time, when the rest of us are wheezing and sneezing?  Jacob sails through with nary a sniffle.

Which is all for the best, as Jacob ill is not a pleasant sight to behold.  He is the picture of misery, not understanding why he feels the way he feels, and cranky and much frustrated to boot.

But healthy when we are ill?  Jacob is annoyingly cheerful; chatting away, asking to have his turn with the thermometer, asking for medicine when Ethan gets his, clearly not wanting to be left out of anything.

OK, the children have been fed dinner, and are now happily being mesmerized by evil but oh, so addictive Japanimation on the television.  I am going to climb under the covers for an hour or until the fighting starts, whichever comes sooner.

Tomorrow it will be one year since I started this blog, my "blogaversary" as it were, and I hope to have a more philosophical post up then.  Until then?  To quote my friend Stimey: urgle, burgle, blech...

Tomorrow, Tomorrow

I am a hot mess today.

Just a seething mass of anxiety about tomorrow's impending gall bladder removal surgery.

I do not roil easily.  This is not a normal part of my personality.  I am many things neurotic, but anxious is not high on my list of personality traits.  I am usually the person you want with you in a crisis, calm and taking charge (OK, maybe a little bit too bossy, I'll confess).

The upside is, I don't experience anxiety frequently.  The downside is, when I do experience it?  It's excruciating to me, intolerable.  It has been pointed out that I will cause situations to explode, much to my detriment, rather than tolerate an ongoing anxious uncertainty for any length of time.

But this situation?  Not at all under my control.  I just have to suck it up and wait until tomorrow at noon.  Anxiously.

Actually I guess I could eat a giant highly fatty meal (double Shack Burger, anyone?) and cause my gall bladder to go into full-on attack mode, landing me in the emergency room today.  But even I am not neurotic enough to pull that one off.

Besides, that would really hurt (like kill-me-and-put-me-out-of-my-misery-NOW kind of hurt) and when it comes to physical pain?  I am a whimpo supremo.

And also?  I have plans in place, and they don't start until tomorrow.  The kids expect to see me tonight, and I them.  And my kids?  Are getting a bit anxious about all this, too.

For Jacob it's diffuse, he probably isn't even consciously aware of the tension.  He just feels it in the air, my little autistic psychic sponge, and wants to be hugged.  A lot.

And Ethan?  Pretty much guaranteed to be his most highly annoying, out-of-control self.  The operating equation being: Ethan + anxiety = obnoxious to the 10th degree.  Sigh.

And I will work hard to channel my kindest, wisest, super-mommy self; to not react with anger out of my own anxiety, because I know he needs calming, needs love and reassurance.

So there will be fart jokes tonight.  Much mention of undergarments; requests that I smell his feet, with said feet being thrust near my face.  And I will embrace my jittery, fast dancing, fast talking kid and my dreamy, spacey one.  Tell them that everything will be alright.

And it will.  It will.

(Could someone please just hit me over the head with a frying pan and then wake me up tomorrow at noon?  No?  OK, I'll just plod on through, then.)


Looking for Comments? I still haven't fixed my "Intense Debate disappearing comment link on home page problem" yet, so if you are viewing this on my home page and want to read my comments or make one of your own, click on the post's title to bring you to the post's page view. Voila!   Still don't see them? Is your browser's pop-up filter set too high? (Hopefully this will get fixed soon - sorry!)

Stream of Consciousness Sunday: Surgery on my Mind

I am glad to finally have a chance to participate in another "Stream of Consciousness Sunday" writing meme, hosted by the lovely Fadra. 

The rules are such:

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spell-checking. This is writing in the raw.

I am such an over-thinker, this is always a challenge for me, but also why it's fun: to just let go once in a while, be raw and unpolished -- how liberating.  OK, setting the timer and letting 'er rip......

*****

Ask me to take my filters out and write what;s on my mind and one thing just dominates all else: surgery. I have a surgery date now: January 5th. On January 5th a guy is going to come into a room and take a piece out of me. I am going to lose an organ I was born with, and in spite of all the trouble that thing has been giving me lately I'm going to miss my gall bladder.

Not that i even knew I had one until about a week ago.

But still, I have had the great good fortune in my life to be relatively healthy. the head cold and stomach bug here and there, a little endometriosis, probably But no medical procedures until my IVF, no hospitalizations or surgery until my twins were born via c-section 8 and a half years ago.  And those were happy reasons to be doing all things medical (not that the fertility stuff wasn;t fraught in its own way. I have never been more anxious in my life than during those two hopeful dreadful weeks waiting to find out if the IVF "took") And since then? Nothing too.

But this surgery stuff? Its scary, even though they say it's a big nothing, since its now done laparoscopically and not the fish gut surgery it used to be. But still to me? it's something. a something that thoughts of will be my constant companion until its done. January 5th.

And then I'll just be a whiny cranky bitch for a week or so, because have i mentioned i really hate pain and make a terrible patient?   And the kids? don't even get me started on how the kids are going to react to all this.  I am guessing: not well.  Surgery - crap!

Looking for Comments? I still haven't fixed my "Intense Debate disappearing comment link on home page problem" yet, so if you are viewing this on my home page and want to read my comments or make one of your own, click on the post's title to bring you to the post's page view. Voila!