Roller Coaster of Life

It’s been such a busy 36 hours here, full of ups and downs and uncertainties. I’ve barely had time to sit down long enough to process it all.

The good:
Remember that job I applied for in a local small hospital? I got it! I’ll be working in the Birth Center as a labor/delivery/postpartum nurse. I’m thrilled to be starting my nursing career in a specialty I’m interested in, and the smaller hospital size may work to my favor.

The bad:
It’ll be a long commute – over 45 minutes. And I was a little surprised to realize that the starting pay is equal to what I used to make as a technical writer five years ago. Ah well, it’ll be worth it to be working with mamas and babies.

The good:
After Mira’s well-child check when she turned two, we were told to schedule an appt. with Children’s Hospital for a speech evaluation. Mira had an evaluation with Help Me Grow last fall, but her pediatrician wanted to see a more aggressive therapy schedule. After waiting over a month, we got an appointment and Mira spent the morning with the speech pathologist today. She was amazed that Mira can speak in full 3-4 word sentences. We heard the word “gifted” again.

The bad:
Although she can speak in 3-4 word sentences, good luck trying to figure out what those words are. Mira is a smart little kid, but she was diagnosed with apraxia of speech. It means that somewhere between her brain and the muscles in her mouth, the message is getting garbled, resulting in poor muscle coordination with her mouth.

It’s nothing that therapy can’t fix, although I’m not looking forward to the fight we’ll have trying to convince the World’s Most Stubborn Toddler to cooperate in even more speech therapy.

The not-so-good:
Cordy’s had a rough week or so. She’s been extremely uncooperative, rude and had several outbursts when frustrated. The culmination was at summer camp today, when she freaked out at swimming time, refusing to go into the water, pinching another child, and then when she had a full-out meltdown, she kicked her teacher and then lost control of her bladder, peeing on her teacher. Not her best day.

The uncertain:
Tomorrow Cordy goes in for surgery. It’ll be early in the day, and as long as the hospital has wireless I’ll probably be tweeting to keep from going insane from worry. I’m sure her tooth has been hurting her – maybe it was the reason she’s been acting out so much? – but the thought of my little girl undergoing general anesthesia is hard to bear. Cordy often has strange reactions to medications, and I don’t know which way she’ll react to what they give her.

I’ve had nightmares for days about something going wrong, then waking up in a full panic attack, trying to stop the tears. Were this Mira, I would not be as worried. Don’t get me wrong – I love Mira just as much, but she’s an amazingly tough kid. She’s never seemed as medically fragile as Cordy. Ha, I can’t believe I just called Cordy fragile. My Amazon warrior princess?

So spare a thought for Cordy in the morning, and hopefully I’ll be reporting that her surgery was quick, routine, and we’ll be home in time for her to watch Word World.



Yet Another Guide to BlogHer for Newbies

Note: I wrote this post last year, but didn’t see the sense in re-typing all of it again. Enjoy this recycled post with a few edits to make it more relevant to this year.
——–

Can you feel the tension and anxiety building in the blog world? Nearly one thousand (mostly) female bloggers are a week and a half away from traveling to Chicago for BlogHer 09. The posts about what do I wear? and will anyone talk to me? are already in full swing as some newcomers start to panic and wonder if they’ll be mocked if they don’t have a laptop with them or don’t say the right things.

Relax. Seriously…relax.

This will be my fourth(!) year of BlogHer, and thank god I get to escape flying this year and be a part of the GM carpool. (Hate. flying.) I’m ready to see old friends, meet new friends, and party until I drop. However, I was a member of the nervous newbie club once, too, so I know how some of you are feeling. Allow yet one more person to give you a little advice on surviving your first BlogHer:

Hit the parties: There are a lot of parties planned this year. More parties than one person can possibly attend without some kind of time control device, and most are open to anyone attending BlogHer. Go to the parties, especially the Thursday night parties! This is your first chance to mingle and socialize in a low-stress environment. Even if you have a hard time making the first move to introduce yourself to another person, I promise that someone will ask you who you are and will want to get to know you.

Prepare for short attention spans: At the same time, expect most people at these parties to behave as if they have some kind of attention-deficit disorder. It’s only natural – for those who have been to BlogHer before, they’ll be bumping into lots of people they haven’t seen since last year. And others will suddenly turn and see one of their blog friends standing right in front of them for the first time. So don’t be surprised if you’re talking with a group and someone disappears or squeals and runs away. It’s not you – she was probably overcome with happiness to see another friend. It’ll happen all night, and as one person disappears, others will appear to join in on the conversation. It may even be you doing the ADD-wander-off.

Expect happy surprises: Don’t be surprised if others come running to you, too. At my first BlogHer, I felt so lost when I was checking into the hotel. There were women everywhere – many were clustered in groups, and I was far too shy to approach one of these groups to find out if they were bloggers I knew of. I remember walking past everyone, dragging my suitcase behind me, anxious and feeling like I wanted to hide in my room for the next three days, when I heard, “Is that Christina? Hey, woman!” It was Izzy, and she was the first shout out of many I got that night. I was also invited to dinner with Mayberry Mom that night, too, which further helped to calm my nerves.

Hand out your card: If you don’t suffer from debilitating shyness, be sure to introduce yourself to as many people as possible. Have business cards if you can. They don’t have to be anything fancy: name, blog name, URL and e-mail address are plenty. You might think you don’t matter enough to have a business card, but you’re wrong. That card will help people remember you, and will help them find your blog after we all leave Chicago. Without cards, I never would have remembered the blog names of everyone I met at BlogHer, many of whom I now read.

Be unstructured: Once the conference begins, you’ll meet even more people at the panels you attend. These panels are wonderful, with lots of information for beginners as well as advanced bloggers. But you may occasionally find you need a break, or find a session that doesn’t have any panels you want to attend. That’s totally OK. There’s no rule that you must attend every session – hanging out in the hallways chatting with others is often just as valuable or more valuable than the sessions themselves.

Expect to be photographed: There are cameras everywhere. You’re probably bringing one, too. Remember that everything said or done at BlogHer is on the record, so be prepared to end up on Flickr. This especially goes for those who like to drink, but can’t hold their liquor. (However, if you do want drunken antics to show up on the internet, drink away!)

Branch out: You’re going to find bloggers in your niche, but you’ll also encounter bloggers on nearly any topic. Take some time to get to know women outside of your niche, too. Surely you have interests beyond being a mom, right? Mommy bloggers are lovely, but there are some awesome craft bloggers, too. And pet bloggers. And life bloggers. And food bloggers. And shopping bloggers. If you can’t find someone who blogs about one of your secondary interests, maybe you need to start a new blog, eh?

So what I’m trying to say is don’t stress out about coming to BlogHer, because you’re going to have a good time. It’s a crazy, chaotic few days, where you’ll meet new friends, rub elbows with blog “stars” and maybe even find out that someone admires you, too.

Dress in a way that makes you feel comfortable, and don’t worry so much about your hair and makeup. After all, it can’t be as bad as my hair disaster from ’06.

And if you need someone to give you that initial boost of confidence and support, come find me. I love meeting new people and I’m always available for a hug. At my first BlogHer several friends held my hand and made me feel comfortable, and I’m happy to return the favor for others.

Now tell me, who will I be seeing this year?



Haiku Friday: Life vs. E-mail

The messages pile
up in my Inbox. Do I
owe you an e-mail?

If so, I’m sorry.
Life gets in the way at the
worst times, doesn’t it?

Cordy’s tooth, job hunts
and summer chores have taken
over my brain now.

I’ve stopped starring all of the messages I want to reply to in my Gmail inbox, because it was simply too many. I’m spending the next 24 hours playing catch-up, hoping to make a small dent in the flood of correspondence I need to respond to. And then once I’ve tackled part of that mess, I can turn my attention back to everything else taking up my time at the moment. Why must the summer months always be the busiest?

But on the bright side, I’m glad it’s all e-mail and not paper mail. Just think of what a mess that would be.

(And oh! my lame haiku today! Next week will be better!)

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!



Not Your Typical Milestone

Thanks to the broken tooth, Cordy had to break her string of only visiting the doctor once a year in order to get a pre-surgery physical. I’ll admit that I was nervous, expecting a meltdown or at least a lot of non-compliance from my doctor-phobic daughter. She’s never liked going to the doctor, and has never let them do a full exam without a lot of screaming and being held down. We still don’t know her blood pressure, as a cuff has never made it around her arm yet.

But yesterday was a new milestone. She was mostly agreeable. When the nurse asked her to step on the scale, she did it without argument – a task she refused to do at the hospital over a week ago. I’d like to think that part of it was my different approach this time: instead of asking her to see how big she was (which she always replies “I’m four and a half big!”), I instead told her to step on the scale so we could make number appear. Ah-ha! Appeal to her love of numbers! Why didn’t I think of that before?

After the scale was out of the way, and my eyes came back into my head after seeing she weighs 50 lbs. (before you think it, she’s not fat. 50 lbs is reasonable for a 4 year old who is getting very close to 4 ft. tall), we then went into an exam room. The nurse wanted to get Cordy’s pulse, but Cordy did not like this woman touching her wrist and holding it for a long period of time. We tried asking Cordy to count to 15, count the fish painted on the wall, etc., but we never got past 8 seconds. The nurse gave up at that point.

When Cordy and I were alone in the room, she scanned the room quickly and found a magnetic drawing board. Suddenly she was happy as she drew pictures of grandma, complete with her trademark circled X, H, and an outline of her hand. We didn’t wait long before the doctor came in.

This was our first time seeing this doctor, so I didn’t know what to expect. But she was soft spoken, young, and seemed to understand Cordy well. She asked me several questions first, not directly confronting Cordy so that Cordy could get used to her in the room. Then she started off with simple questions for Cordy, asking what she was drawing, how old she was, does she have a sister, etc.

When it came time for the exam, I was prepared for the worst. However, Cordy willingly let the doctor put her stethoscope on her chest and back, even taking deep breaths when asked. She opened her mouth and said “Ah” on command, and didn’t complain too much when the doctor looked in her ears. She even laid down when asked so the doctor could feel her belly. I sat there the entire time, grinning like a fool in amazement, and at the end told the doctor that this was the first time Cordy has ever let someone examine her willingly. She was pleased to hear that.

The verdict: Cordy is fit for surgery. Other than low muscle tone (which we already knew about, and seems to be common in kids with autism spectrum disorders), Cordy has no medical issues.

I was so thrilled with Cordy’s performance, I agreed to get ice cream afterward. The two of us enjoyed our ice cream together, until about half-way through when Cordy bit down into an M&M and got that worried look on her face. “Does your tooth hurt?” I asked her.

“No, it’s OK!” she tried to reassure me, but the worried look remained.

“Your tooth hurts, doesn’t it? It’s OK, you can be honest.”

She shook her head yes for a moment, then shook it no. “No, my tooth is OK. It doesn’t hurt. But can you pick out the M&Ms from my ice cream, mommy?”

So her tooth still hurts. Next week is her surgery.



Grocery Store Misdirection

At the grocery this evening, I waited in line at the self-checker while three early 20-somethings unloaded their cart. In it were two bottles of vodka, a 6-pack of beer, and some Red Bull. They also asked the cashier to fetch them some cigarettes. He slowly shuffled off to get their cigarettes from the locked case after checking IDs.

I heard the three of them talking to each other in hushed, urgent voices. Finally, one of the two women said to the guy with them, “I said I don’t know! I’ll ask.”

She then turned towards the cashier and loudly asked, “Hey! Can I use my food stamps to buy this?” as she gestured to the Red Bull with one hand and held up her food assistance card in the other.

The cashier looked up with a bored expression, as if he had heard this question several times. “No,” he responded.

The three 20-somethings sighed in defeat. “Damn – I told you. Just pay for it already,” the other woman said. They paid for their items and soon were out the door.

As I stepped up to the self-checker, my eyes met those of the cashier. “You know,” I offered, “They actually can buy Red Bull with food stamps.”

“Yeah. I know,” he replied with a smile. “But if they don’t know that, I feel no need to tell them they can use assistance to buy that junk.”

I stifled a giggle. Sure, he was probably wrong to lie to them, but I wasn’t going to correct him while they were still there, either.

(FYI – They get a booklet when they get their food card telling them what they can and cannot buy.)