Happy National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week!

I feel like I am behind in so many ways. Last week was a rough week. Ever have one of those days where you feel like you are digging yourself out of a bottomless pit? Well, that was Friday for me, and luckily, I have friends that decided to help me dig out so my husband didn't have to. Just can't even tell you how great they are. So, anyway, lousy week, and then I worked on Monday (not my best idea ever, but I'll just blame it on the medication...or something.) Yesterday was a busy day, but today I have to stay home, so I am getting a lot done.

And why do I have to stay home, you ask? Well, our kitchen sink has decided to have a mind of it's own and likes to spit things back at us like a mini smelly volcano. The plumber is cleaning our pipes out as I type. Yet another day when I wish I lived near my incredibly smart and useful brothers who have awesome tools and fabulous skills.

So, I have been meaning to post about something you may or may not be interested in for some time. But, I'm behind, so I'm finally getting to it, three days late. This week is National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week. Never heard of it? Yeah, me either. But I occasionally check in on the blog of Lisa Copen, founder of Rest Ministries, a place for Christian support for the chronically ill, and I found out about it. To celebrate this week (because who doesn't want to celebrate chronic illness, right?) they are hosting a conference on blog talk radio with an interesting variety of topics. If you know someone who deals with a chronic illness, or know someone who has one (besides me, of course) you may want to listen, here. They even have cheesy elevator music, which is fantastic. But really, there is some good information.

And, now, if you'll excuse me, I finally have running water in my kitchen and it seems that headaches are not the only chronic thing going on around here. Shouldn't someone invent a way to avoid ever having dirty dishes?

Irksome

Yesterday morning I dumped the last of my favorite cereal in a bowl and grabbed the milk. As I poured the milk on my cereal, it came out in chunks and smelled divine. I have no idea how the milk got to be this way, but I have my suspicions.

The twins' teacher emailed me and let me know that each of them had a missing assignment in the last couple of days. Naturally, it was not their fault, and they had no idea how such a thing could happen. I assured them that now that they are required to write all assignments in their agendas, and bring all work home to be checked, that this won't happen again. They are so excited.

By the way, guess what their classroom jobs are? Homework Monitor, and Agenda Monitor. It seems someone up there has a very good sense of humor.

She's On The Ball

Snow White is a ball girl for the college volleyball team. She takes her job of running after balls and wiping off the sweat very seriously. She has a friend, M, that volunteers with her, and M's mom and I just thought the girls were so cute doing their job. The girls really liked mingling with the college mascot and giving all of the volleyball players high fives as they introduced them to the crowd. Fun stuff.

On Sunday, we Skyped with Grandma. (For those of you, like me, who are not technically minded, Skyping is an online telephone conference call with your computer camera. Sort of Back to the Future technology stuff. Pretty cool.) Snow White wanted to tell Grandma about being a ball girl. Only Grandma didn't really know what a ball girl was, so Snow White was having a hard time explaining it. She was assuming that Grandma knew most of what a ball girl does, and her explanations were sort of going over Grandma's head. King suggested she start at the beginning. He said, "Pretend Grandma is an alien, and she has no idea what volleyball ball girls do, and start explaining it to her that way."

Snow White waved her hand at Grandma on the computer screen, smiled, and very slowly said, "Greetings."

King and I about fell off the couch laughing.

Just Call Me Lame

Okay. I have some really good reasons for my lame mistake. For starters, I was tired. And, I had a headache. Actually, I'm not really sure that I did, but since I don't remember not having one, which would be something to remember, I probably did. Also, I was talking on the phone to my sister. And the TV was on. And I had to go to the bathroom so I was in a hurry. So, really, I had no business being on facebook in the first place.

But I was. And I invited someone to be my friend, which sounds really great and friendship-y, except I don't even know her. But I thought I did. And I was distracted. And when I saw her name on a comment of one of my friends, I thought, "Yay! Jane Smith (not her real name) finally joined facebook, I'm going to add her as a friend." So I did. Then I went to the bathroom, and got on with my day.

Later, when the kids were in bed and the house was quiet, and I wasn't on the phone, I decided to check out Jane's profile. And that's when I realized that if this were really my Jane Smith friend, she would have joined facebook as Jane Smith Jones because she's married now. And then when I actually took time to look at her profile, I realize that this Jane Smith is married to my Jane Smith Jones's brother. And I've never met her. And she has no idea who I am. And I gave her a hard time about finally joining facebook and she probably has been on facebook since before I even knew about it. And I am totally lame.

So I sent her a new message. "Uh, hi Jane. Sorry about that message before. You don't know me and I don't know you, but I thought you were your sister-in-law, and I know you look nothing like her and I know your family picture has less kids than hers would and I know that she would never be married to her brother so just ignore that message and sorry I asked you to be my friend. Um, tell your husband hello from me. He'll know me as his little sister's friend, who apparently is still as dumb and naive as the thirteen year old I used to be when he knew me. I'm sure you are nice and all but we really don't need to be friends. Sorry. Sorry I said you were a slow poke. I'm sure you are super speedy and totally technical and nothing like Jane Smith Jones who still isn't on facebook. But, really, can we blame her? I mean some lame-o that doesn't know her could send her rude messages or something and that would be annoying. Yep. Sorry."

She never sent me a message back. She is sure that I am a psycho facebook stalker, probably. Clearly, I am not old enough to operate something as suave as this worldwide networking site. I really should just stick with things I know. Like email. And boring blogs with no fancy flowers or patterns running down the sides. And talking on the phone. A land line, no less. Of course. Did you expect anything more? Didn't think so.

Reminiscent Rambling

One of my friends in my ward is having twins. She's due in a month, so really she could have them any day. We're having a shower for her tonight, and it's got me thinking back on life when our little twins arrived. It seems like just yesterday, yet, it seems that so much has happened since they were born. Weird how time does that.When Cinderella turned two, I was around 20 weeks pregnant. I was starting to feel like I might make it through the days without feeling too pregnant sick. I had a little bit of energy and spent more of my day out of bed than in it, which was quite an improvement over how I'd felt the sixteen weeks prior to that point. We had a little party for Cinder, and she was miserable. She got medicine for a dual ear infection the next day.

From that day in early October, until mid-January, poor Cinderella had an ear infection almost non-stop. She would be on an antibiotic for ten days, and by the twelfth day be running a fever and start all over again. It was awful. And, compacting the problem was the fact that in late October I was put on bedrest. So, we spent much of our little time we had together (our friends took turns taking Cinderella during the days while King was working on his PhD) taking medicine and visiting the pediatrician. I know there were at least two times that my contractions were bad enough that it scared me into sending Cinderella to the pediatrician with my friends. Poor little thing.

In mid-January, I was done. I didn't want more antibiotics or more fevers, and no more trips to the pediatrician; I wanted the problem fixed. So, we had tubes put in her ears. It was a sad day to watch her go into surgery, but one of the best decisions we ever made. She was so much happier afterward! And she hasn't had an ear infection since.

Two weeks later, the twins were born, and then my mind is a little foggy as to how well everyone was feeling. I think Cinderella was just so thrilled to stay home every day and have me get out of bed and play with her that she didn't really seem to mind all of the hours that I sat on the couch or floor and nursed her baby sisters. She even begged to help feed "the babes" a bottle occasionally. And, it was adorable.That was the beginning of Cinderella's love affair with babies. She loves them. She once spent the entire four days we were with my sister and her kids holding my littlest nephew every moment she could. I think the only time anyone else had him was when my sister had to feed him. Cinderella hugged him and rocked him and shushed him and changed him. She was in heaven. (2006) Cinderella cannot wait for these new little babies to arrive in our ward. She has told me that she plans to spend one afternoon and evening a week over at our friend's house so that she can help with the twins and their big (only still little--18 month old) sister any way she can. We're hoping that our friends are wanting a helper because I'm pretty sure there is no way I can stop her from going. She even wants me to figure out if a bus could drop her off there instead of at home right after school. (There isn't. I just checked. She'll be bugged.)

Funny how much she's grown up in the past years, but that all she really wants to do is play with "the babes" like she did ten years ago. Maybe this time I will be much less sleep deprived so I can remember helping a little bit, too--if they'll let me. There is nothing cuter than two little babies to cuddle and love. What fun!

Grrrrrr

Girls are mean. Not certain girls. All girls. Yes, sadly, even mine, I'm afraid. I don't understand why girls can't just slug their friends if they aren't getting along. Instead they have to think of a way to be mean. Mean enough to hurt and then mean enough to make it fester for a while.

For instance...this morning Sleeping Beauty and Snow White were telling me about Ann (name is changed to protect the not-so-innocent) who used to be SB's "maybe 2nd or 3rd best friend way back in 3rd grade" (yes, that was just over a year ago, but who's counting?) now tells SW and SB all the time that they go to the "stupid school" now instead of the "cool school". Nice. Except really, if you are going to get technical, they now got to the "gifted and talented school" which isn't really the same as stupid, but in fifth grade language I guess they are pretty much the same thing. Oh, and Ann also thinks that SW's new glasses are boyish and that SB wears pink too much.

Now, I have always thought that Ann was a little bit of a stinker, but this is ridiculous. I must be part boy and part mama bear because what I'd really like to do is slug Ann. But, instead, I said, "What would Jesus do? Maybe she's having a hard time at home or at school. Try to be kind to Ann. Turn the other cheek. Find something nice to say about her or her school, and for goodness sake, just sit somewhere else on the bus!"

Then, there's Suzy (again, not her real name), who is a friend of the girls' that I happen to really like. Only lately, she's been telling Snow White that if she were auctioned off she would "only earn, like, maybe half a penny" and Sleeping Beauty would get "around a million dollars if we auctioned her" because SW isn't really worth that much. Nice thing to say to a friend, huh? But this is even better, "I'd try to explain to you why you wouldn't get that much money, but you wouldn't understand, cuz you're not smart enough." Snow White doesn't know why all of the sudden Suzy has decided to say these things, or at least claims to not understand. Since I know girls, it's probable that something could have been said by SW to warrant such treatment, but it's also just as probable that something did not. They're girls. Ugh.

So, I told SW to think about what has happened with Suzy the last coulple of weeks and see if there is anything she said or did that could have been taken wrong, or maybe Suzy has other things going on that are stressing her out and making her take it out on her friends. And then I said, "talk to Suzy and tell her how you feel and that you'd like her to stop saying those hurtful things. See if you can work it out." Although, what I really wanted to say was, "Just punch her in the face if she says things like that." Again with the mama bear thing. Sigh.

I can't remember how old kids are when this kind of stuff gets old. I hope soon. I cringe to think of other moms wanting to clobber my daughters because they said something mean like this. Yes, mine have been taught to never talk like this, and always be kind, but so have these other girls, I'm sure. I do trust my girls to be good, to rise above such things, but honestly, they're also just girls, too. Pre-teen girls with hormones raging and emotions out of control. I hope they are nice. I'm sure they are...most of the time. But, considering that last night SW told Cinderella that her glasses don't make her look smarter, they make her look "like and idiot", I can't be too sure.

I really don't think I'm cut out to be the mom of three teenage daughters. I think it's time for hibernation. A ten year one. Anyone care to join me?

Night Growl

It's 10:30 p.m. Cinderella is awake and doing homework. She stayed home from school sick on Friday. She was miserable. She's finally feeling quite a bit better, but I'm guessing that this late night will make it so that she feels worse in the morning. She worked on tonight's homework for about an hour and has been doing Fridays work for two hours. It's sort of looking like all six of her teachers expect her to put a full 45 minutes in since she missed class. Ridiculous! Isn't she too young for this? Most of it is busy work that will teach her almost nothing.

I'm too tired to pull an overnighter, even if she can. I can't just leave her working by herself, can I? I don't know how old she will be when I decide she can do this all by herself. Maybe now. I'm exhausted. I have no idea how to do her math anyway, so I'm basically just here for moral support. And, I think I'm just bothering her more than helping her. How many times have I asked her to hurry in the last hour? Maybe ten. Or more. Aaaaaah!

Since I'm up, though, I'd like to ask a question--Do you think homework helps kids better understand and grasp a subject, or is it just extra work that gets in the way of family time that could benefit a child more? Where do you stand on this issue?

Also, have you ever in your entire adult life used integers for any reason? I can't think of one time. I can't even explain to her why she needs this skill.

Making a Mockery of the Menu

How do you plan your menus when you go grocery shopping? I do it by month. I plan on making fifteen to twenty different things, and some of them we plan to eat twice. I wish I could say I write down fifteen things I feel like cooking. Really, though, I write down a list of things that I can stomach, and more than half of them I only put because at least two children will eat them without complaining. I have no desire to eat Tuna Casserole, but since the girls all like it, I would rather have them happy and eating than have them whine while I eat something I want. Do you do this too? I can't be the only mother that would rather have peace than a delicious dinner. (I do realize that there are those of you out there that always make delicious dinners that your children also love to eat, but you bought your children from Jupiter, so that doesn't really count.)

Today is my shopping and menu planning day. I realized I was off to a bad start when I had only six things on the list--three requests from the children:

• meatloaf
• grilled chicken
• Swedish meatballs

and three things that I felt like making:

• scrambled eggs
• waffles
• pancakes

And then I crossed the first three off because they take so long to make. But, then I felt bad so I put them back on the menu on days when King has said he will cook. And then I felt guilty, so I put them back on the days when I will cook. And now I know that I will buy the ingredients, intending to cook the first three meals, but by this time next month, they will be on the list again because I will have made the last three meals on my list in their places.

I know you are shocked at the way my mind and grocery list work. Don't pretend you aren't. I'd also just like to add that I do use whole wheat flour when I make waffles and pancakes, just in case there is anyone who questions my commitment to health reading this blog. And, also, I'd like to say that Swedish meatballs are tasty; I have nothing against the Swedish.

It's a Good Thing

Today was a good day at church. I gave the most boring Sharing Time that ever was. I know this because half of the Senior Primary lives at my house, and they told their dad about the Sharing Time on our drive home. Now, I didn't think it was that bad, but I'm not ten, so I don't really know a lot, apparently.
(It's a good thing during the Sacrament Meeting portion of our meetings I resolved to have more patience, isn't it?) ;)

Would You Like a Side of Fries With That?

I told you how fun it was to get my IV infusions before, but now I'd just like to say that the best part was that it costs so much money. Ridiculous amounts. As in, $700 each time I went. For a 15 minute infusion. I'm sure the water I drank from a styrofoam cup cost around $25. I wish I had felt well enough to enjoy it. And I'm really glad I never felt well enough to eat anything the nurses offered. We do have insurance(thank goodness!), but 20% of that is still more than I'd like to pay for feeling like being run over by a truck. The whole thing makes me think that health care reform may not be a bad idea after all. But, that is something I do not really want to think of, nor discuss. So, moving on...

While my headaches got quite a bit better throughout the five day course, ultimately it did not work to break the cycle. I thought that on Monday morning, when I woke with no headache at all, that it had done it's job. But, a mere five hours later, I was in bed, miserable. I figure relief at roughly $250 an hour isn't really worth it. What do you think?

So, I spoke with the doctor. He feels bad. He says we pray this new medication kicks in and gives me some relief while we wait on the insurance to approve a round of Botox. Admittedly, it has taken me a few days to scrape my dissappointed self off of the expensive proverbial hospital floor, but I've done it. I'm ready to move on and face the week. But, Botox?

Now, I don't know about you, but I honestly think that I would never, ever elect to have a Botox treatment for cosmetic purposes. I think I'd like to grow old gracefully. What's the point of enjoying three lovely daughters if I can't show off some wrinkles and gray hairs as my badges of honor? Millions of people survived old age before they figured out shooting botulism into your face made you look beautiful.

Yes, botulism. The thing that you get if you eat those green beans that have been sitting in Grandma's basement for 25 years. Or honey when you're a baby. That is what they are proposing I shoot into my head. Sounds yummy, huh? It boggles the mind that someone actually came up with this idea. What is wrong with those scientific folks anyway? Well, besides being uber smart and highly creative. Botulism? Really?

You know, they only use Botox for migraine relief now because of it unsuspectingly relieving the migraines of those who had done the procedure electively for cosmetic purposes. They have since completed other studies where they have injected it into more sights than just on the forehead, like the neck and around the temple. (You can read a little about some studies here.) The relief sounds promising, and temporary. Most people have to repeat the procedure every three to six months, but have excellent results. So, you never know.

I have some decisions to make. If my insurance won't cover it, do I pay the $2500 to try it out? Will it work? If it does, is it worth the money? If it doesn't, can I handle that? Do I really want botulism in my face anyway? Will I like looking permanently surprised? That might be better than looking permanently mad or confused, which is what I think I look like when I'm trying to think with a bad headache. What about side effects? Are they worth it? (For example--according to this site 11% of patients using Botox for medical conditions experienced headache as a side effect!) And, am I really ready to subject my mind and body to one more thing that might or might not help?

I do realize these are not life threatening decisions, but they are things I must think about in the next few weeks. For now, I am glad my body has a break from trying new things. It's worn out. This week has been high on the pain scale and some hours I can barely walk down the hall without feeling fatigued. It's time for a little break before I move on to the next course.

And, I'll leave today with my favorite scripture this week: Alma 58:11: "Yea, and it came to pass that the Lord our God did visit us with assurances that he would deliver us; yea, insomuch that he did speak peace to our souls, and did grant unto us great faith, and did cause us that we should hope for our ^adeliverance in him." Because, no matter what, that is really the only deliverance I truly need. And I get it for free!! :)