Life ramblings and the journey through adoption.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
230
Now I'm not saying that I don't have to lose weight, because I DO. However, if I could only have HALF of this woman's healthy attitude during the process? I'd be much happier and healthier throughout the process.
Monday, March 26, 2007
15, 31, 33 hike!
Malka had her 15 month appointment today.
She weights 31 pounds. She is 33 inches long.
She is FINALLY "curving" on the charts, instead of just shooting straight up. Her doctor seemed SO much less concerned about her in every sense. Her fine and gross motor skills are in great shape, if not above the mark in some areas. She can point to her "Af," (nose), "Ozen," (ears), "and her "Peh," (mouth), which is an 18 month milestone. She tries to jump, she climbs over and on everything, with a chipped tooth to prove it; but she doesn't have words yet. Well, she does say "uh-oh!" after purposefully dropping something...
She does have, what the doctor refers to as: "receptive language," which basically means that she understands what we say. If we ask her to bring her "sefer" (book) from the other room, she will. (when she's in the mood to... mind you, she IS a toddler!) She is getting increasingly frustrated with her INability to talk, as she reaches and whines a lot. The big relief, however, is that her doctor isn't concerned about her lack of words, as her ability to understand is the pivot point in cognitive development. She was pleased with all of her other skills and abilities, and is glad that Malka doesn't mind the broccoli that I sneak into her (ric
e pasta) mac and cheese.
These bangles are from her Doda Amy, all the way from India. Malka was scared of them at first, shaking her head "NO!" That is, until she saw Amy shake them on HER wrist. Malka then HAD to shake them too. A wearable tambourine, who knew?
She weights 31 pounds. She is 33 inches long.
She is FINALLY "curving" on the charts, instead of just shooting straight up. Her doctor seemed SO much less concerned about her in every sense. Her fine and gross motor skills are in great shape, if not above the mark in some areas. She can point to her "Af," (nose), "Ozen," (ears), "and her "Peh," (mouth), which is an 18 month milestone. She tries to jump, she climbs over and on everything, with a chipped tooth to prove it; but she doesn't have words yet. Well, she does say "uh-oh!" after purposefully dropping something...
She does have, what the doctor refers to as: "receptive language," which basically means that she understands what we say. If we ask her to bring her "sefer" (book) from the other room, she will. (when she's in the mood to... mind you, she IS a toddler!) She is getting increasingly frustrated with her INability to talk, as she reaches and whines a lot. The big relief, however, is that her doctor isn't concerned about her lack of words, as her ability to understand is the pivot point in cognitive development. She was pleased with all of her other skills and abilities, and is glad that Malka doesn't mind the broccoli that I sneak into her (ric
e pasta) mac and cheese.These bangles are from her Doda Amy, all the way from India. Malka was scared of them at first, shaking her head "NO!" That is, until she saw Amy shake them on HER wrist. Malka then HAD to shake them too. A wearable tambourine, who knew?
Thursday, March 22, 2007
UN-b'frick'n-believable!
Have you read about this?
"While we love Baby Jessica as our own, we are reminded of this terrible mistake each and every time we look at her," the Commack couple said in documents filed in Manhattan Supreme Court. "It is simply impossible to ignore."
This poor, poor child! Her parents are basically suing a NYC fertility clinic because black sperm was used in an IUI instead of her white husband's sperm. I cannot imagine ANY parent saying that their child reminds them of a mistake every time they look at them.
If it were within my power, I'd have that child removed from that family for her own emotional health and well being.
I'm just sitting here with my jaw hanging open.
"While we love Baby Jessica as our own, we are reminded of this terrible mistake each and every time we look at her," the Commack couple said in documents filed in Manhattan Supreme Court. "It is simply impossible to ignore."
This poor, poor child! Her parents are basically suing a NYC fertility clinic because black sperm was used in an IUI instead of her white husband's sperm. I cannot imagine ANY parent saying that their child reminds them of a mistake every time they look at them.
If it were within my power, I'd have that child removed from that family for her own emotional health and well being.
I'm just sitting here with my jaw hanging open.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Why are all bridesmaid dresses sleeveless?
So um, Amy's getting married in August. August 6th, to be exact. And Sara and I are her bridesmaids. Amy is family, one of my oldest and dearest friends, a true Doda to Malka. She was my "Mayberry;" the friend that cut across the neighbor's yard, came into your house through the sliding glass doors that were your dining room, and made a b-line for your fridge BEFORE saying "Hi, Mrs. A; Hi, Mr. A!" (she actaully said that, I'm not protecting the innocent here, this is a direct quote). The friend that I don't have to hide a SINGLE THING from. I can TRULY just be me with Amy.
So, I am prepared to do the UNthinkable. Because I love Amy as if she were my own sister.
I am going to wear....
a DRESS.
And not JUST a dress.
A Bridesmaid Dress. BUT, yet again, here is another reason why I love Amy. She told Sara and I that her colors were blue, and that was the only restriction. Because it "matched the boat." She is getting married on a boat. In August. It will be pretty awesome, actually. So Amy gave Sara and I free reign. Sara's pretty keen on "kobalt blue velvet." Since I've never been a bridesmaid before, I said, Sure! I'm game, I trust Sara to know the right thing to do here. Now I really don't HAVE to wear a dress, but Amy let the word slip out a few times, and well, here's hoping that you only get married once, right? So I'll be looking for a Kobalt Blue Dress.
Now, Sara wants to go shopping at "the Century," and don't get me wrong, I LOVE that place, but their plus size selection is, well, limited. So I started looking at places that specialized in these types of clothing devices. I can sum it up in ONE word: sleeveless.
Um, HELLO! I have Eastern European Jewish arms - I don't "do" sleeveless.
So here's where you, the lovely internets come in. I need help in finding a decently priced, kobalt blue dress that would look nice on me. It's just all a bit too much to look for, since I generally have NO idea where to start.
So, I am prepared to do the UNthinkable. Because I love Amy as if she were my own sister.
I am going to wear....
a DRESS.
And not JUST a dress.
A Bridesmaid Dress. BUT, yet again, here is another reason why I love Amy. She told Sara and I that her colors were blue, and that was the only restriction. Because it "matched the boat." She is getting married on a boat. In August. It will be pretty awesome, actually. So Amy gave Sara and I free reign. Sara's pretty keen on "kobalt blue velvet." Since I've never been a bridesmaid before, I said, Sure! I'm game, I trust Sara to know the right thing to do here. Now I really don't HAVE to wear a dress, but Amy let the word slip out a few times, and well, here's hoping that you only get married once, right? So I'll be looking for a Kobalt Blue Dress.
Now, Sara wants to go shopping at "the Century," and don't get me wrong, I LOVE that place, but their plus size selection is, well, limited. So I started looking at places that specialized in these types of clothing devices. I can sum it up in ONE word: sleeveless.
Um, HELLO! I have Eastern European Jewish arms - I don't "do" sleeveless.
So here's where you, the lovely internets come in. I need help in finding a decently priced, kobalt blue dress that would look nice on me. It's just all a bit too much to look for, since I generally have NO idea where to start.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Playing hookey!
From my chores, that is...
Here's a day in the life, while my beloved is off in NJ doing Radio Golf. (We did have about 1/2 hour together this am, however, and it was enough to see my b'sheret, and have our family reunited for a spell...)
6:15am - alarm goes off (theoretically, as I rarely hear it).
6:45-7:00am - 2nd Alarm, (aka, Malka Palka Pooka Palka) goes off.
7:05am - Yell at alarm clock for not working, hop out of bed, inadvertantly trip over cat enroute to the loo.
7:10am - After using said loo, go to kitchen, step in cat puke. Grab paper towel, go back and clean up said puke. Go to linen closet, grab carpet cleaner, further clean up spot on rug. Remember purpose for heading through hallway that originally had me step in puke, wash hands, pour milk, go back to loo, take meds, (remind self to NOT brush teeth... see later).
7:20am - Listen at bedroom door for MP3 sounds, and if no sounds (she settled back down or is playing), feed cats, plug in coffee maker, make Malka's lunch. If she's still fussy, go in and greet her highness for the day - if she giggles and grins, it will be a good morning. If she's still fussy, watch out!
7:30am - Give MP3 bottle WHILE getting her out of jammies and into clothes - THIS, my friends, is key. Diaper and clothing changes have become somewhat of an olympic event, and her bak-buk gives me about 4 minutes of fuss-free time. All I have to do is say "switch" when I need an arm to go through a sleeve, and she'll switch the hand she uses to hold her bak-buk.
7:34am - Turn on cd of fun kid songs (Thanks, Jen and Cait!) and bop head. This allows Malka to forget that her bak-buk is empty, and that music!is!on!fun! so she'll bop her head and let me slather her face with lotion, oil and pik out her hair, and put a pony tail holder in it.
7:40am - Dance with Malka in her room. BLISS, people. PURE bliss.
7:43am - Put Malka into the blue 'restraining device" (actually, her vibrating chair that's also a rocker), and "brush teeth." If you ask Malka if she wants to brush her teeth, she'll head to our bathroom and reach up towards the sink, and the toothbrush area. So we BOTH brush our teeth (see above).
7:45am - Frantically hop in shower, playing peek-a-boo through the shower curtain, wash important bits, hop out, slap on some lotion, put on clothes, do stand-up routine for Malka, throw on some random hair product, while singing "itsy bitsy akaveesh" for the 900th time.
8:00am - Put coat on Malka, put Malka in stroller, put un-eaten waffle in zip lock bag for ride to daycare. Put coat on self, grab everything I can remember, leave.
8:20am - Arrive at daycare, watch Malka giggle at the thought of getting OUT of the stroller, take her out, remove coat, put away her lunch in her room, encourage Malka to come INTO the room from the hallway, watch her shake her head "no," then start dancing, and watch her toddle into room to hug all of her boyfriends. I kid you not, she's already a heart breaker! One boy screams MALKA! as soon as she walks in, another runs over to KISS her. Another runs over to DANCE with her - holding out his hands and all. We are SO screwed!
8:30am - Blow my little love a kiss, tell her I love her, and bolt out the door.
9:05-9:15am - Arrive at work.
4:00pm (OK, usually 4:30) Leave work, head to daycare to pick up MP3 (BEST part of my day!)
5:30-5:55pm - Arrive at daycare, chat with a few parents who are also doing pick-ups, chat with Louise, or Suzanne, or Jacqueline, or "Tia Raquel," about her day, about their fun activities, watch Malka run to me, but not want to leave...
6:05pm - Head out the door of daycare, sometimes stopping by the healthfood store to pick up some extra Milk or other random necessities, try to walk home quickly.
6:30-6:45pm - Arrive at home, take the giggle girl Out of the stroller (who probably spent a good 3/4 of the walk home screaming), watch her chase the cats.
6:45pm - Hope she plays solo for a bit as I scramble together a dinner for her.
7:00pm - "Feed the baby!" While she eats, remove shoes and socks, play the "stinky feet" game - basically, smell her feet after her removing the socks, and say "stinky feet, stinky feet, baby's got the stinky feet!" She giggles up a storm. While she finishes her dinner, sneak away and prep her last bak-buk of the day, fill her humidifyer, dash back to help her out with the last bits of dinner.
7:15-7:20pm - BATH!
7:30pm - "Pat da baby, pat, pat da baby, baby, pat da baby, pat pat da baby." Because of her eczema, we don't rub her dry, we pat her dry, but ever since she was younger, aka, "easier to lift out of the tub," we've wrapped her up in her towel, and spoke-sung the "pat da baby" song. If she catches herself in the bathroom mirror, she'll giggle. Then it's all about slathering her in Aquaphor, diapering her, getting her into her jam-jams, (the bak-buk helps big time here, too), giving her a "puff-puff" from her inhalor, and trying to get it all in before the bak-buk is finished, so that we can have a few moments of snuggle time on the sleeper-futon-thinggy.
7:40pm - Whilst humming "od yavoh shalom aleynu," carry her to her crib, kiss her, put her in, make sure she has her lovey, cover her with her blankie, zip the crib tent, KEEP HUMMING, walk out door.
7:45pm - Collapse on the sofa for a few...
8:00pm - Make dinner. Veg out in front of tv for a bit.
9:00pm - Feed cats*, load dishwasher, tidy up living room from the toy cyclone that is Malka, prep coffee maker for the am, empty litter boxes.
11:00pm - Crawl into bed, let all three cats re-arrange ME to suit THEIR sleeping needs, watch Good Eats, ( I *HEART* Alton Brown!), call Narda to say goodnight.
12Midnight - Turn off TV, roll over, say the Shemah, go to sleep.
So, um, TONIGHT? I'm pouring myself a lovely glass of Penfold's Bin 389, watching some Trashy Reality TV, and going to bed early. I'm totally playing hookey from my chores. (Except feeding the cats, because, you know, that'd just be mean. And Juno's on meds, so she needs her evening snack).
But yeah, I'm totally playing hookey. I'll do it all tomorrow night...
*There's currently a pet food recall on a serious amount of pet foods. All by the Menu Foods company. Please go here and make sure that your pet foods are NOT on this list!
Here's a day in the life, while my beloved is off in NJ doing Radio Golf. (We did have about 1/2 hour together this am, however, and it was enough to see my b'sheret, and have our family reunited for a spell...)
6:15am - alarm goes off (theoretically, as I rarely hear it).
6:45-7:00am - 2nd Alarm, (aka, Malka Palka Pooka Palka) goes off.
7:05am - Yell at alarm clock for not working, hop out of bed, inadvertantly trip over cat enroute to the loo.
7:10am - After using said loo, go to kitchen, step in cat puke. Grab paper towel, go back and clean up said puke. Go to linen closet, grab carpet cleaner, further clean up spot on rug. Remember purpose for heading through hallway that originally had me step in puke, wash hands, pour milk, go back to loo, take meds, (remind self to NOT brush teeth... see later).
7:20am - Listen at bedroom door for MP3 sounds, and if no sounds (she settled back down or is playing), feed cats, plug in coffee maker, make Malka's lunch. If she's still fussy, go in and greet her highness for the day - if she giggles and grins, it will be a good morning. If she's still fussy, watch out!
7:30am - Give MP3 bottle WHILE getting her out of jammies and into clothes - THIS, my friends, is key. Diaper and clothing changes have become somewhat of an olympic event, and her bak-buk gives me about 4 minutes of fuss-free time. All I have to do is say "switch" when I need an arm to go through a sleeve, and she'll switch the hand she uses to hold her bak-buk.
7:34am - Turn on cd of fun kid songs (Thanks, Jen and Cait!) and bop head. This allows Malka to forget that her bak-buk is empty, and that music!is!on!fun! so she'll bop her head and let me slather her face with lotion, oil and pik out her hair, and put a pony tail holder in it.
7:40am - Dance with Malka in her room. BLISS, people. PURE bliss.
7:43am - Put Malka into the blue 'restraining device" (actually, her vibrating chair that's also a rocker), and "brush teeth." If you ask Malka if she wants to brush her teeth, she'll head to our bathroom and reach up towards the sink, and the toothbrush area. So we BOTH brush our teeth (see above).
7:45am - Frantically hop in shower, playing peek-a-boo through the shower curtain, wash important bits, hop out, slap on some lotion, put on clothes, do stand-up routine for Malka, throw on some random hair product, while singing "itsy bitsy akaveesh" for the 900th time.
8:00am - Put coat on Malka, put Malka in stroller, put un-eaten waffle in zip lock bag for ride to daycare. Put coat on self, grab everything I can remember, leave.
8:20am - Arrive at daycare, watch Malka giggle at the thought of getting OUT of the stroller, take her out, remove coat, put away her lunch in her room, encourage Malka to come INTO the room from the hallway, watch her shake her head "no," then start dancing, and watch her toddle into room to hug all of her boyfriends. I kid you not, she's already a heart breaker! One boy screams MALKA! as soon as she walks in, another runs over to KISS her. Another runs over to DANCE with her - holding out his hands and all. We are SO screwed!
8:30am - Blow my little love a kiss, tell her I love her, and bolt out the door.
9:05-9:15am - Arrive at work.
4:00pm (OK, usually 4:30) Leave work, head to daycare to pick up MP3 (BEST part of my day!)
5:30-5:55pm - Arrive at daycare, chat with a few parents who are also doing pick-ups, chat with Louise, or Suzanne, or Jacqueline, or "Tia Raquel," about her day, about their fun activities, watch Malka run to me, but not want to leave...
6:05pm - Head out the door of daycare, sometimes stopping by the healthfood store to pick up some extra Milk or other random necessities, try to walk home quickly.
6:30-6:45pm - Arrive at home, take the giggle girl Out of the stroller (who probably spent a good 3/4 of the walk home screaming), watch her chase the cats.
6:45pm - Hope she plays solo for a bit as I scramble together a dinner for her.
7:00pm - "Feed the baby!" While she eats, remove shoes and socks, play the "stinky feet" game - basically, smell her feet after her removing the socks, and say "stinky feet, stinky feet, baby's got the stinky feet!" She giggles up a storm. While she finishes her dinner, sneak away and prep her last bak-buk of the day, fill her humidifyer, dash back to help her out with the last bits of dinner.
7:15-7:20pm - BATH!
7:30pm - "Pat da baby, pat, pat da baby, baby, pat da baby, pat pat da baby." Because of her eczema, we don't rub her dry, we pat her dry, but ever since she was younger, aka, "easier to lift out of the tub," we've wrapped her up in her towel, and spoke-sung the "pat da baby" song. If she catches herself in the bathroom mirror, she'll giggle. Then it's all about slathering her in Aquaphor, diapering her, getting her into her jam-jams, (the bak-buk helps big time here, too), giving her a "puff-puff" from her inhalor, and trying to get it all in before the bak-buk is finished, so that we can have a few moments of snuggle time on the sleeper-futon-thinggy.
7:40pm - Whilst humming "od yavoh shalom aleynu," carry her to her crib, kiss her, put her in, make sure she has her lovey, cover her with her blankie, zip the crib tent, KEEP HUMMING, walk out door.
7:45pm - Collapse on the sofa for a few...
8:00pm - Make dinner. Veg out in front of tv for a bit.
9:00pm - Feed cats*, load dishwasher, tidy up living room from the toy cyclone that is Malka, prep coffee maker for the am, empty litter boxes.
11:00pm - Crawl into bed, let all three cats re-arrange ME to suit THEIR sleeping needs, watch Good Eats, ( I *HEART* Alton Brown!), call Narda to say goodnight.
12Midnight - Turn off TV, roll over, say the Shemah, go to sleep.
So, um, TONIGHT? I'm pouring myself a lovely glass of Penfold's Bin 389, watching some Trashy Reality TV, and going to bed early. I'm totally playing hookey from my chores. (Except feeding the cats, because, you know, that'd just be mean. And Juno's on meds, so she needs her evening snack).
But yeah, I'm totally playing hookey. I'll do it all tomorrow night...
*There's currently a pet food recall on a serious amount of pet foods. All by the Menu Foods company. Please go here and make sure that your pet foods are NOT on this list!
Monday, March 19, 2007
Thank you, Pingu!
We really don't let Malka watch TV. Sure, she caught a bit of Access Hollywood and such in her early months, but in general, we prefer to play a CD, or turn the raido on, or play, or read to her. She's a HUGE fan of books, and the repeating thing is getting SO old, but hey - if she wants me to read and read and read, who am I to say no?
So this weekend's sick fest had me, by end of day, quite unsure as to what to do to keep the tears at bay for much longer. And then I remembered that we have "kids on demand" with our cable! Woot! So I flip on PBS kids, and there it is. Pingu! The adorable penguin who speaks in gibberish, except for this one sound that sounds like he's saying "knock-knock."
It kept her attention for quite some time, and allowed the feverish-whiney-velcro-baby to enjoy herself a bit this weekend.
So to the gibberish speaking penguin, I say a HEARTFELT thank you!
This morning, I brought Malka to MY doctor's office with me. I was going to bring her in as well, but she was feeling MUCH MUCH better, and her fever was gone. My strep test came back negative (PHEW!), which also told me that MP3 was negative for strep, too. I think it was SUCH a great idea, actually. She had a great time, the nurses were all smitten, I was able to sneak over and grab a ride on toy from the Ped. waiting room, and bring it over, and malka got to see ME get poked and prodded by a doctor INSTEAD of her - a win-win situation, truth be told. I then brought her to daycare, came home and slept for 4 hours. I still feel yucky, but the sore throat and constant hacking have lessened. So for that, I'm grateful.
So this weekend's sick fest had me, by end of day, quite unsure as to what to do to keep the tears at bay for much longer. And then I remembered that we have "kids on demand" with our cable! Woot! So I flip on PBS kids, and there it is. Pingu! The adorable penguin who speaks in gibberish, except for this one sound that sounds like he's saying "knock-knock."
It kept her attention for quite some time, and allowed the feverish-whiney-velcro-baby to enjoy herself a bit this weekend.
So to the gibberish speaking penguin, I say a HEARTFELT thank you!
This morning, I brought Malka to MY doctor's office with me. I was going to bring her in as well, but she was feeling MUCH MUCH better, and her fever was gone. My strep test came back negative (PHEW!), which also told me that MP3 was negative for strep, too. I think it was SUCH a great idea, actually. She had a great time, the nurses were all smitten, I was able to sneak over and grab a ride on toy from the Ped. waiting room, and bring it over, and malka got to see ME get poked and prodded by a doctor INSTEAD of her - a win-win situation, truth be told. I then brought her to daycare, came home and slept for 4 hours. I still feel yucky, but the sore throat and constant hacking have lessened. So for that, I'm grateful.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Mostly it's fine...
But sometimes it totally sucks to be the only person in the office. Like today. My fever's back, I'm sick as a dog, it's snowing out, I *should* be going to see my doctor, but there's two "projects" that HAVE to get done today. So I just have to go in.
Ugh.
And um, after a small mayo clinic and Google image search, I've decided it's either Mono, Strep or tonsillitis. Hopefully strep, as that will go away as soon as I start taking antibiotics. I'll take a picture of my lovely spotted tonsils for anyone who's an armchair diagnostician!
The Advil Cold and Sinus seems to be reducing the fever a bit, which makes a world of difference. Now if just the sore throat and general feeling of blah would dissipate, too.
On the upside, Malka's babysitter called with a change of plans, so she IS now available tomorrow night. Phew. Maybe I'll have a hot toddy when we go out tomorrow, that should help...
Ugh.
And um, after a small mayo clinic and Google image search, I've decided it's either Mono, Strep or tonsillitis. Hopefully strep, as that will go away as soon as I start taking antibiotics. I'll take a picture of my lovely spotted tonsils for anyone who's an armchair diagnostician!
The Advil Cold and Sinus seems to be reducing the fever a bit, which makes a world of difference. Now if just the sore throat and general feeling of blah would dissipate, too.
On the upside, Malka's babysitter called with a change of plans, so she IS now available tomorrow night. Phew. Maybe I'll have a hot toddy when we go out tomorrow, that should help...
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Here we go again...
All I can say is that Malka, at least, has been (knock wood, spit, spit, keynahora, toss salt, etc.) realitively healthy for the past few weeks. Mild congestion, a runny nose here and there, but we (Baruch Ha'Shem), seem to have moved passed the scary stuff that plagued our house all those recent months ago.
What seems to have happened, however, is that the bugs, germs and viruses that USED to plague Malka have now started to plague US.
That's right. I've had a "mild cold with sinus action" for a while now, and this morning, I ACTUALLY thought I was on the upswing. As soon as Malka and I get home, however, I feel a bit more tired than usual, but figure it was because of Malka's early wake up and Cougie's Pukage on the bed that had me changing sheets at 5:30am, which thereby had me make the decision to just.stay.up. Ugh. But no. After her bath, bak-buk and bed, I took my temp with Quincy on my lap (with the EVER trusty old BBT thermometer from the ttc days - YES! It was still in the nightstand), and I figured I would be at, oh, say, 98 or 99, but uh, 101.1. So yeah, I have a fever, slight chills, a headache, goosebumps, a sore throat, a sometimes cough and no appetite, yet I'm hungry. Now seriously, this all 'came down,"since I picked Malka up from daycare. (Where they did this AWESOME activity by making a shaving cream table, and all of the kids played and had a blast! - they took some pictures, and luckily, I had my camera with me today, so I took some pictures of the polaroids. They'll be up on flickr soon!)
I'm sick of getting sick! When I was at NYU, I took ONE sick day in TWO YEARS. (I did have to use up a few "koff, koff" sick days for the Chagim, and a personal day or two to meet with Malka's birthmom), but seriously? Since Malka's started daycare in August, I've been sick a LOT. I've taken at least 2 sick days this year so far, and um, it's only the beginning of March! OY is all I can say.
And Amy's in town this weekend. From London! And she's getting married in August, in Portland, and I'm a bridesmaid for the first time in my life! And I have to find a babysitter for Saturday night, because in my "Eemah brain," I totally forgot that 2 months ago, we 'casually ' mentioned drinks on Saturday the 17th (insert "I coulda hada V-8" icon here) So now, Malka's primary babysitter isn't available. And, and, and. I just want some soup and to go to bed.
What seems to have happened, however, is that the bugs, germs and viruses that USED to plague Malka have now started to plague US.
That's right. I've had a "mild cold with sinus action" for a while now, and this morning, I ACTUALLY thought I was on the upswing. As soon as Malka and I get home, however, I feel a bit more tired than usual, but figure it was because of Malka's early wake up and Cougie's Pukage on the bed that had me changing sheets at 5:30am, which thereby had me make the decision to just.stay.up. Ugh. But no. After her bath, bak-buk and bed, I took my temp with Quincy on my lap (with the EVER trusty old BBT thermometer from the ttc days - YES! It was still in the nightstand), and I figured I would be at, oh, say, 98 or 99, but uh, 101.1. So yeah, I have a fever, slight chills, a headache, goosebumps, a sore throat, a sometimes cough and no appetite, yet I'm hungry. Now seriously, this all 'came down,"since I picked Malka up from daycare. (Where they did this AWESOME activity by making a shaving cream table, and all of the kids played and had a blast! - they took some pictures, and luckily, I had my camera with me today, so I took some pictures of the polaroids. They'll be up on flickr soon!)
I'm sick of getting sick! When I was at NYU, I took ONE sick day in TWO YEARS. (I did have to use up a few "koff, koff" sick days for the Chagim, and a personal day or two to meet with Malka's birthmom), but seriously? Since Malka's started daycare in August, I've been sick a LOT. I've taken at least 2 sick days this year so far, and um, it's only the beginning of March! OY is all I can say.
And Amy's in town this weekend. From London! And she's getting married in August, in Portland, and I'm a bridesmaid for the first time in my life! And I have to find a babysitter for Saturday night, because in my "Eemah brain," I totally forgot that 2 months ago, we 'casually ' mentioned drinks on Saturday the 17th (insert "I coulda hada V-8" icon here) So now, Malka's primary babysitter isn't available. And, and, and. I just want some soup and to go to bed.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Time, time, time, see what's become of me...
I used to think that Daylight Savings Time was a Joke, messing with mother nature, a sham created by "the man."
But then Malka came into our lives.
I get it now, I SO get it. It was BLISSFUL to pick Malka up from daycare today and for it to STILL BE LIGHT outside.
I'm Daylight Savings Time's newest and biggest fan!
But then Malka came into our lives.
I get it now, I SO get it. It was BLISSFUL to pick Malka up from daycare today and for it to STILL BE LIGHT outside.
I'm Daylight Savings Time's newest and biggest fan!
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Real tears...
As some of you may know, I fell in love with a little white kitty in Japan who I only knew from Flickr.
She lived in a home with many wonderful, spirited cats, and a man who loves cats more than me! His name is (on Flickr, anyway) "Junko."
Hime (which means "Princess" in Japanese), was recently diagnosed with a heart condition, and she passed away last night.
My heart is breaking for him, and I'm crying real tears, as if I had lost one of my own cats.
It may be silly, but she was very real to me, and I adored her so.
If you care to, please go and send Junko some love...
She lived in a home with many wonderful, spirited cats, and a man who loves cats more than me! His name is (on Flickr, anyway) "Junko."
Hime (which means "Princess" in Japanese), was recently diagnosed with a heart condition, and she passed away last night.
My heart is breaking for him, and I'm crying real tears, as if I had lost one of my own cats.
It may be silly, but she was very real to me, and I adored her so.
If you care to, please go and send Junko some love...
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Oh my Gawrsh!
For those that don't know, as a former stage manager, I'm a bit of an office supply whore.
In order to get THE coolest receipt pouches EVER,
-------------------------------------->>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I had to go all the way down to SoHo, to the MOMA store.
But NOW, but NOW! MUJI IS COMING TO NYC.
OH MY GAWRSH. I cannot WAIT.
This is serisouly amazing news.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Friday, March 02, 2007
When it hits...
It hits hard. For the most part, the Lexapro has REALLY REALLY helped with my "health anxiety." But sometimes, physical symptoms kick in, and those said symptoms kick start my mind.
Take this evening, for example...
I've been coming down with something for a few days now, more than likely "DVFH #93," so I'm already a bit run down, plus Narda's been in NJ at the McCarter Theatre, working on Radio Golf. So I've been flying solo, and there was nasty rain this am, so I used the hip seat, an umbrella and the bus to get Malka to daycare (as opposed to the mile long walk with her in her stroller).
Malka likes to lean forward a bit while ON the hip seat, which puts a bit of strain on my arm. So by the time I got to work this am, my left arm was a bit sore. By day's end, however, I had forgotten about it. Until the ride home. We took the bus, but we still had to walk a few blocks FROM the bus stop to our apartment. I tried the "holding her hand and walking," but after about 1/4 of a (NYC) block, she stopped, and wanted to be picked up. So onwards. We get home, and I make chicken, she loves it, we light the Shabbas candles, have a sip of Shabbas wine, and she has her chicken. While she's eating, I stick the spaghetti squash in the oven, and notice that I have a slight headache. After dinner (this is the cute part), she signs "all done," and when I take her out, she makes a B-Line to the bathroom, ALL ready for her bath. I tell myself that I'll take some adv*l after I get Malka to bed. Malka, for one, did NOT want to get out of the bath, and protested vehemently when I removed her, and once we were in her room, walked over to her bottle and wanted it, which she usually gets AFTER she's in her jammies. But the screaming (remember my slight headache from a few sentences above....) sends me to get her bottle, which IMMEDIATELY stops the screaming and tears, and allows me to put a diaper on her, slather on her Aquaph*r, and put her jammies on. I then scoop her up, for the last ounce of her bottle, we sit on the sofa-futon-thinggy, and have the last minute of our routine. She goes to bed with ease.
It is walking out of her room that it hits me like a mack truck. I feel light headed, headache, sore arm, and all of a sudden, I've diagnosed myself with an on-coming stroke, heart attack, diabetes, and some weird disease from Quincy's scratch from the other day. It's REALLY weird how my mind works, and I have NO idea why it goes to such extremes when I have any sort of physical symptom. It's like my intellect totally knows there's nothing really wrong with me, but some random part of my mind beats that part up and takes over and goes into full-blown panic mode. Now the difference is that before the Lexapro, I would "sit" in the anxiety for about a week or two. Now, I take steps to try and get out from under the part of myself that tries to take over. The first thing is to put my hand on my stomach and just breathe. Then distract myself - I turned on the TV to my Brit-coms on Channel 21, took my Adv*l, ate something (to combat the low blood sugar), and started blogging. Writing it out is a form of release. It also helps to put things in perspective.
Cougar would like me to also tell you that he indeed has helped TREMENDOUSLY. He has that way about him of just coming onto the couch and insinuating himself into my lap, DEMANDING that I pet him. They do say, after all, that pets lower stress.
I AM so grateful for the Lexapro, as what would have lasted for 2 weeks, has dissipated within an hour. And for you, internets, for giving me the space to share about it. That, in and of itself, is a HUGE help.
Truly.
Take this evening, for example...
I've been coming down with something for a few days now, more than likely "DVFH #93," so I'm already a bit run down, plus Narda's been in NJ at the McCarter Theatre, working on Radio Golf. So I've been flying solo, and there was nasty rain this am, so I used the hip seat, an umbrella and the bus to get Malka to daycare (as opposed to the mile long walk with her in her stroller).
Malka likes to lean forward a bit while ON the hip seat, which puts a bit of strain on my arm. So by the time I got to work this am, my left arm was a bit sore. By day's end, however, I had forgotten about it. Until the ride home. We took the bus, but we still had to walk a few blocks FROM the bus stop to our apartment. I tried the "holding her hand and walking," but after about 1/4 of a (NYC) block, she stopped, and wanted to be picked up. So onwards. We get home, and I make chicken, she loves it, we light the Shabbas candles, have a sip of Shabbas wine, and she has her chicken. While she's eating, I stick the spaghetti squash in the oven, and notice that I have a slight headache. After dinner (this is the cute part), she signs "all done," and when I take her out, she makes a B-Line to the bathroom, ALL ready for her bath. I tell myself that I'll take some adv*l after I get Malka to bed. Malka, for one, did NOT want to get out of the bath, and protested vehemently when I removed her, and once we were in her room, walked over to her bottle and wanted it, which she usually gets AFTER she's in her jammies. But the screaming (remember my slight headache from a few sentences above....) sends me to get her bottle, which IMMEDIATELY stops the screaming and tears, and allows me to put a diaper on her, slather on her Aquaph*r, and put her jammies on. I then scoop her up, for the last ounce of her bottle, we sit on the sofa-futon-thinggy, and have the last minute of our routine. She goes to bed with ease.
It is walking out of her room that it hits me like a mack truck. I feel light headed, headache, sore arm, and all of a sudden, I've diagnosed myself with an on-coming stroke, heart attack, diabetes, and some weird disease from Quincy's scratch from the other day. It's REALLY weird how my mind works, and I have NO idea why it goes to such extremes when I have any sort of physical symptom. It's like my intellect totally knows there's nothing really wrong with me, but some random part of my mind beats that part up and takes over and goes into full-blown panic mode. Now the difference is that before the Lexapro, I would "sit" in the anxiety for about a week or two. Now, I take steps to try and get out from under the part of myself that tries to take over. The first thing is to put my hand on my stomach and just breathe. Then distract myself - I turned on the TV to my Brit-coms on Channel 21, took my Adv*l, ate something (to combat the low blood sugar), and started blogging. Writing it out is a form of release. It also helps to put things in perspective.
Cougar would like me to also tell you that he indeed has helped TREMENDOUSLY. He has that way about him of just coming onto the couch and insinuating himself into my lap, DEMANDING that I pet him. They do say, after all, that pets lower stress.
I AM so grateful for the Lexapro, as what would have lasted for 2 weeks, has dissipated within an hour. And for you, internets, for giving me the space to share about it. That, in and of itself, is a HUGE help.
Truly.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
When Sweet Pea Pea Sweet comes to visit...
In our 5th month ttc (trying to concieve), let's see, December, 2004, I believe...
We were feeling the need to nuture something, since we sensed that we weren't getting anywhere on the road to parenthood, so we did the logical thing and adopted Quincy and Sweet Pea. After all, the pet store was RIGHT around the corner from the clinic, and we would always go look at the kitties longingly.
We picked Sweet Pea first, and then the folks from city critters kept saying that we needed another one to keep him company, that cats aren't meant to be alone. I couldn't have agreed more, but Narda was hesitant. But then she saw Quincy. It was a done deal.
Adopting Sweet Pea and Quincy was *almost* as difficult as adopting Malka - we had a home study, we had to pay a fee to the adoption agency, and we were scrutinized within an inch of our lives.
But in the end, Sweet Pea and Quincy became a part of our household, and they became the best of friends:
When Narda's mom passed away, we tried to adopt out Cougar and Juno, but as you all know, that didn't pan out. The senior citizens came to NY to live with us, and to worm their way into our hearts - puke, inappropriate pooping habits and all. As many of you know, Sweet Pea Pea Sweet passed away on Rosh HaShanah, 5765, September, 2005. He had barely been with us a year. It was F.I.P. - Feline Infectious Peritonitis. We think that Cougar and Juno may have brought some latent virus with them that manifested itself into FIP for poor little Sweet Pea Pea Sweet. it was a hard time - he was our first real baby. I said Kaddish, I sponsored a kiddush in his memory, I lit a yartzheit candle on the one year anniversary, and he is still on the bookshelf, in a tin, with his collar around it.
About a year ago, Quincy started acting "funny." He would just, out of nowhere, meow, and then run off down the hall, chasing "something." He'll just be sitting calmly on the couch and then "get his freak on," as we like to call it - it's wacky.
We have decided that Sweet Pea started visiting us a while ago, but apparantly, Quincy is the only one that can see him. Occasionally, I "sense" him, or catch a flash of him running by, it's odd, I can't describe it - but Quincy TRULY engages in the behavior that he used to with Sweet Pea.
I share this, because Sweet Pea decided to visit tonight. While Quincy was sitting on my lap. Juno and Cougar were declawed by Velma, z"l, we don't believe in de-clawing. After tonight, however, I'm reconsidering. Quincy tore off after "Sweet Pea," using me as a launching pad. I have only been trimming Malka's nails lately. I am COVERED in scratches - ALL unintentional - Quincy, like the other fur balls, loves his Eemah, but oh my LORD - OUCH.
Sweet Pea Pea Sweet, next time you want to visit? Please make sure that Quincy-beast is NOT on my lap.
Thank you.
We were feeling the need to nuture something, since we sensed that we weren't getting anywhere on the road to parenthood, so we did the logical thing and adopted Quincy and Sweet Pea. After all, the pet store was RIGHT around the corner from the clinic, and we would always go look at the kitties longingly.
We picked Sweet Pea first, and then the folks from city critters kept saying that we needed another one to keep him company, that cats aren't meant to be alone. I couldn't have agreed more, but Narda was hesitant. But then she saw Quincy. It was a done deal.
Adopting Sweet Pea and Quincy was *almost* as difficult as adopting Malka - we had a home study, we had to pay a fee to the adoption agency, and we were scrutinized within an inch of our lives.
But in the end, Sweet Pea and Quincy became a part of our household, and they became the best of friends:
When Narda's mom passed away, we tried to adopt out Cougar and Juno, but as you all know, that didn't pan out. The senior citizens came to NY to live with us, and to worm their way into our hearts - puke, inappropriate pooping habits and all. As many of you know, Sweet Pea Pea Sweet passed away on Rosh HaShanah, 5765, September, 2005. He had barely been with us a year. It was F.I.P. - Feline Infectious Peritonitis. We think that Cougar and Juno may have brought some latent virus with them that manifested itself into FIP for poor little Sweet Pea Pea Sweet. it was a hard time - he was our first real baby. I said Kaddish, I sponsored a kiddush in his memory, I lit a yartzheit candle on the one year anniversary, and he is still on the bookshelf, in a tin, with his collar around it.
About a year ago, Quincy started acting "funny." He would just, out of nowhere, meow, and then run off down the hall, chasing "something." He'll just be sitting calmly on the couch and then "get his freak on," as we like to call it - it's wacky.
We have decided that Sweet Pea started visiting us a while ago, but apparantly, Quincy is the only one that can see him. Occasionally, I "sense" him, or catch a flash of him running by, it's odd, I can't describe it - but Quincy TRULY engages in the behavior that he used to with Sweet Pea.
I share this, because Sweet Pea decided to visit tonight. While Quincy was sitting on my lap. Juno and Cougar were declawed by Velma, z"l, we don't believe in de-clawing. After tonight, however, I'm reconsidering. Quincy tore off after "Sweet Pea," using me as a launching pad. I have only been trimming Malka's nails lately. I am COVERED in scratches - ALL unintentional - Quincy, like the other fur balls, loves his Eemah, but oh my LORD - OUCH.
Sweet Pea Pea Sweet, next time you want to visit? Please make sure that Quincy-beast is NOT on my lap.
Thank you.
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