Monday, October 29, 2007

Pinch me...

I am in disbelief...


I got a call today from the ED for United Way [of Larimer County] and he told me that basically he'd volunteered "my expertise," to the people working on this HUGE economic development project in town. HUGE!


First, I had to laugh - "expertise?" That I've magically accumulated in all of my 6 years in the worforce - I mean really?

Yeah, he meant really.

See, the hub of this re-development project is the Poudre River corridor, an area which is populated with the camps of many of our chronic homeless. My job will be to advise the committees of this project about:
1.) homelessness in Fort Collins - both chronic and transitional
2.) how different industries (i.e. retail/service) perpetuate the problem with non-living wages
3.) how aspects of the project will affect the homeless, either positively or negatively
The woman he directed me to, for purposes of working together, noted that Fort Collins may be implementing a program very similar to Denver's Road Home project, a project that I have watched and admired from afar for about 2 years now, but have felt that was impossible, due to the discrepancy in resources that non-urban areas receive for these issues. Thanks to an anonymous donor, the seed money for such a program could be available!

Huge exposure opportunity for me. Huge opportunity to effect change and truly help those in need!

Good thing I rediscovered my mojo, eh?

Rediscovering My Mojo

Earlier this month, hell, even just last week, I would have told you that Hammy had totally lost her mojo – in pitiful rendition, rivaling that of Austin Powers’ when he’d lost his zest for shaggin’.

I felt completely wiped out in a sea of turbulent overwhelm. And thusly did a crap job in: keeping close to God, being a friend and partner, mothering, my job as a civil servant, school, housekeeping, and whatever else usually lies front and center on my plate.

I was having the “what should I cut out so that everything is balanced” discussions with myself in my head – you know, that seemingly harmless little “I gotta take care of me so that I can take care of others” battle we women do? It’s innocent enough in the beginning, but let it breed and this reevaluation and quest for “balance” soon consumes my life such that I’m taking care of me for the sake of taking care of me, to the point of unbalance (irony is a funny, funny thing, no?) and the initial intent of making myself a better person for others gets lost along the way.

The other things that this funk had me doing were 1.) overanalyzing, to the point of talking myself out of things that God has very clearly put me up to (school – yes, I really was considering saying, “stick a fork in me I am D-U-N, done”) 2.) sending my normally confident (sorta, that one’s complicated) mindset into a rapidly descending abyss of insecurity.

But, ya’ll the rainbow has come out.

Charlie Brown has been in a bit of a funk himself lately, but the past several weeks he has been very, extremely, and sweetly supportive. Like. A. ROCK. That is always there, and always holding up whenever I happen to fall prostrate across it. That weathers everything that comes its way, and still remains. I need to appreciate that more about him.

I caught a break or two in the scholastic realm. Somehow the online professor, “knows I’m not a slacker” and gave me a break on a very craptastic job on the midterm. I don’t feel like there’s been enough info exchange for him to possibly know this – so I’m curious to know if my advisor and him talk? And my weekend professor? The one whose syllabus was not accessible until the Monday before the first class (the fist class where we were supposed to have a huge book report due) – he decided that whoever turned in the book report, early or late, so long as it was turned in before the end of classes, got an A. He told us that after I scurried to get my paper in by the end of lunch yesterday – hoping to get the dreaded B- in graduate school. So…those two things? Totally made my month.

Finances are coming up. Work is bearable again – oh, and news alert! I got a fun new project with other key players in the community today! Fabulous excitement as a new challenge is here to pique my brain!

Kiddos were good to come home to, and so was my new furry baby – Stella the kitty. She is preshus. And should be MYYYY preshus, except I have to share with my children (can you believe it?!?) – the very people for whom Stella made her way home with Charlie Brown on Saturday.

Life is good. And so is rediscovering one’s mojo. I can do this. We are balanced where we're at, we just had some stressors of late.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

It's [almost] REALLY Happening!!

:me, sighing with giddy excitement:

Remember my unbloggable scholarly excitement?

Well, we are in negotiations/proposal phase now, and I'm all super-dee-duper hopped up about the increasing potential of it.

But, again, because it is not for sure yet - you should e-mail me if you are interested in hearing the juicy (uhm, academic - so whatever you make of that) details.

Tah-tah...

Monday, October 22, 2007

Singing My Personal ABC's

Scott, a new reader of my ramblings, tagged me with this meme - here goes.

A - Activist - in my daily actions and longterm goals. I long for action that makes society more loving and inclusive. See C below.

B - Brown eyed and auburn hair has made for many a comment about my autumn coloring

C - Christian believer

D - Doggie owner...and puppy is not in good standing with me. She has a chainlink kennel with a cover, since she began jumping our fence a while back. Today, she was out when I got home - the darn thing has figured her way out of it! grrr...

E - Excited b/c my BFF just told us that they were expecting!!!! :-D It's their first.

F - Frugal fashionista...today I'm glammed up in my second hand GAP tweed skirt, Old Navy deep V cardigan with a lace top cami, beads on the neck, hoops on the ears, and my bargain, high heeled calf-boots - total cost of the whole look? Under $30, and the boots were originally priced at $70 alone!

G - Girlfriend - I love to hang and dish with all my friends, gals and guys alike.

H - Heather, HAM, Hammy, Hoot, Hootie - all my names start with H

I - Initiative...I have a tendency to initiate lots of things, whether apologies, controversies, projects, or a little hubba hubba with Charlie Brown, I like to get things started.

J - Joker...of the very dry, sarcastic variety

K - Kitchen queen - see T

L - Linguistics fanatic...whether it is grammar, spelling, or etymology (I go off on the origins of words all the time at work; The Boss refers to me as the Human Dictionary)

M - Mama...what a double-edged and sharp piercing sword motherhood is. Our hearts are never the same...they bleed with joy and pride at times and others with the most gutwrenching worries for our children

N - [excellent] Notetaker [and transcriptionist] - or so I'm told on the first part...I take minutes for several boards and commissions. Also for class.

O - Open book - what you see (or read) is what you get with me - sometimes this can get me in trouble

P - Procrastinator extraordinaire

Q - Questioner, of people, of faith, of tradition, of authority, of "limitations"

R - Redhead...though auburn is what most people would call my hair - except occasionally for the color-impaired folks who've asked me, re: Punkinhead, "Where did he get his red hair from?"

S - Seeker of truth, see Q

T - Talented, or so people tell me. I have a particular affinity for publications design, writing, planning, organizing, singing, and cooking. Notice that only one of those is a domestic trait.

U - Unaware of my true capacities for stress - though I would like to say, "Lord, sometimes I wish You didn't think so much of me!"

V - Vulnerable to self-doubt, guilt, and depression

W - Wife to Charlie Brown

X - [often] X-asperated, see W, add in LMNOB's sensory processing disorder, and my life of chaos in general

Y - Young[ish - still hanging on to the 20's for another year and a half or so]

Z - Zany - I am a bit crazy at times, but what's life without some zest, eh?

Sunday, October 21, 2007

"Helo Diyury"...Shocking Ramblings of My 6 y/o Girl

So this weekend we bought a girly girl notebook and some gel pens as a bribe, erm, incentive towards good behavior on the premise that the girl likes to write.

As I glanced over her shoulder this morning at church, I wanted God to smite down her little thought process.

LMNOB is 6, remember, a mere six years of age.



Helo diyury,

I wish i code [could] Love a boyfrend. but How?
I cowde [again, could] pray to the Lrod [Lord - a little transposition
there].
No, no, no, no, NO!

All day long my melodramatic, mama worrying wheels have been spinning on this one.

SIX - She's six, she canNOT be thinking about that yet!


Oh dear Lord, no. She's deriving her sense of worth based on her success with the opposite sex. Crap - she'll marry the first man that comes along and pays her any attention.

It's those books that the teacher bumped her up to. They're too emotionally mature for her and now they've primed her to tween-age angst.

It's a sign. A sign that she's not having enough positive interactions with her father and is seeking out male attention to plug that daddy shaped hole. Must talk with Charlie Brown.
And then...
WTHeck kind of spelling is this? She reads 4th grade books, and yet writes like an avid LOLspeaker??

No matter. So what did I do? I let it fester all day in my brain.

Tonight, before evening prayers, I told LMNOB that I'd seen what she'd written in church and that I wanted to discuss it with her. She was embarrassed, and grunted repeatedly and kicked me from underneath her mountain of blankets (her own self medication of her propioceptive issues - I honestly do not know how she doesn't spontaneously combust at night).

"Hey...I know, sweetheart - it's private and I promise you I wasn't snooping, you were right there in the open, remember? I just happened to see it while you were writing."

I got a one-two with a grunt and a kick. Then she shrunk from me and retreated into the solace that only a blanket can offer for a six year old - you know, because if you can't see them, they aren't really there, right?

"Honey, don't be embarrassed, or think that you're in trouble...I just want to find out more about what this means to you.

More grunting and kicking.

"Heeeey...this is just like Junie B. is [Almost] a Flower Girl - at the beginning of the book, her mom is talking to her about sort of the same thing."

LMNOB's head popped out, and indignantly muttered, "Yeah, but Junie B was only in kindergarten!"

Seriously, my unspoken thought process went something along these lines:
1. Haha, made ya talk to me. I knew my inner nerd could tap into yours; and
2. Oh, the horror of my obtuse disregard of that critical distinction, you are so very right.

To make a long story shorter, we talked. And basically, she's lonely - not fitting in with her peers as well as she could, and her one BFF neighbor-girl schoolmate has paired up with a boy at recess, leaving LMNOB alone. So a boyfriend is what she thought she needed, when in fact any friends will do to help her feel better about herself.

I'm worried about my girl. Academically she is excelling. Developmentally she is progressing (no more fecal matter issues, and her core strength is improving). But socially, it's like she is retreating into herself and growing more and more socially backwards. More tantrums with us at home, and more crippling shyness with others.

Case in point...

Last Wednesday's incident.

It's overwhelming. Mothering is hard enough. Adding special needs just plain sucks sometimes.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Categories...

On Wednesdays LMNOB'school does an early release.

She gets off the bus, crosses the street and goes to our daycare provider, M's, home, at approximately 2:30. Usually M has had the door propped open for her on Wednesdays, but this last Wednesday was fairly cool, and M got distracted, and forgot to prop the door as a result of both factors.

At 3:00, she went to take some diapers out, and lo! There was LMNOB on the doorstep. M felt horrible that she'd forgotten - and honestly I don't blame her at all, because it could have happened to me just as easily.

But what's off here is that LMNOB was just standing there...and had been for 30 minutes.

She wasn't distressed, she wasn't finding something else to do to pass the time, she hadn't wandered off.

Moreover, she had never even knocked or rung the doorbell. At age 6, this should have crossed her mind!

All I can do is thank God that nothing happened to her - but that is not sitting well with me. I want to prepare her and better equip her.

BT the OT wants to do some social groups with LMNOB, as well as some categorical associations type of work, and sequential patterning. I.e. find all the green shapes, or among varied shapes, find all of the rectangles. And then we'd break down tasks into step by step instructions, and she would order them correctly.

Because then we can extend that kind of rational thought process to "a shut door is still like an open door, however to walk through a shut door, we need to knock/ring the bell, wait for it to open, and then walk through."

I never imagined I would have to tell my above average intelligence daughter how to think with the aid of categories.

Math Has Always Been the Bane of My Existance - the Mothering Edition

Monday night was a doozie of a night at Casa del Meyer. I will not be able to properly convey the frustrated rage that it created, but generally, you’ll get the picture.

LMNOB was in top I-have-sensory-processing-disorder-so-I-do-not-have-to-listen-to-A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G-you-parental-types-have-to-say form. And yes, before people correct me about the nature of the disorder where it’s not so much a have to listen distinction as it is an ability to listen, let me assure you I am well aware of this particular distinction.

So, when we started her very first Monday Math homework, and she cut the paper dominoes’ dots that represented quantitative data instead of the dotted lines signifying where she was supposed to cut (and therefore tear forever asunder from each other) said “dominoes,” I immediately suggested, “Why don’t you go get your [weighted] vest so that your brain is getting input and you can make better sense of what you need to do.”

She then told me she didn’t know where it was, then tearfully and all, please-have-pity-on-me-because-you’re-right-I-CAN’T-do-my-homework-without-it (in other words – she latched on to the opportunity to stall with a deathgrip) begged Charlie Brown and me to help her find it so that she could be a good student.

We fell for it hook, line and sinker.

And when we discovered that she’d lied to Charlie Brown about the whereabouts of said vest (A very conscientious “Oh, Daddy, it’s not in my closet”…and yet indeed it was in the closet), she began to throw a screaming fit.

Funny, nothing is her fault, not even the words that she uttered forth of her own volition.

Yeaaaaaaaaaahhhh…..Thing is? Mama don’t play that way. AT ALL.

We got the vest put on her and made her jump on the tramp…well, that last part was really halfhearted, anyway – and not so successful – but nevertheless she was getting proprioceptive input, right?

Then, Charlie Brown and LMNOB sat down and played the domino math game that she was assigned to do, while I prepared a sumptuous feast of Tex-Mex cuisine. Or maybe just tacos and refried beans from a can. Whatever…

After dinner and the subsequent clean-up, I revisited the homework assignment, telling LMNOB that there was another piece to the puzzle before she was finished: She needed to read the directions on the worksheet and then write what they were asking for before I could sign off that she’d done her homework.

She then said, “No, YOU read it to me.”

I told her that she could read it and that I would help her with the writing activity once she read the directions. HERSELF. I mean for Pete’s sake, she’s reading 4th grade level books, she can for certain read instructions on a 1st grade math worksheet! I am a big proponent for individual responsibility and empowerment – for me to read her something that she was perfectly capable of reading herself, and that was more appropriate for her to read (since it would give her a better understanding of HER work to be done than if I had read it) is enabling this behavior – and I refuse to be an enabler!

Enter WWIII. She threw a holy fit, and I yelled, Charlie Brown yelled, and at one point I prayed that none of the neighbors could hear.

At 8:00, I declared the war over, determining that LMNOB had run out of time for homework and that she would have to face the music for her poor choices at school.

She wailed at that, and for the next 40 minutes both children howled from their bedrooms.

Throughout the whole evening, it had been unbelievably hard not to cave – but firm I remained.

The next morning, she glared at me when I put her homework folder back in her bag, with detailed notes to her teachers about why the work was not done.

This morning, her math teacher stopped her in the hallway and said, “LMNOB, at first recess this morning, you are going to come into my room and we are going to work on the rest of your homework.”

Said teacher later told me that I’d done the right thing by not rescuing my child, letting her face the natural consequence.

Validation is nice.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Go Do This! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaase?

If you see this picture over on my side bar:

Will you pretty, pretty, please click on it and tell BlogHer what you think about my blog? Or whatever it is that their SHORT little survey is asking?

With sugar on top?

Because I’d really like to grow as a writer, and YOU could all help BlogHer make it happen.

Also?

It would mean, as the sign says, that you LOOOOOOOOOOVE me.

And, awwww, if that isn’t the sweetest!

I love you all too.

Mmmmmuah!

How I found the Bermuda Triangle...in COLORADO

Or, due to my lack of mechanical knowledge and the overabundance of a thick fog, perceived that I was entering the Twilight Zone this morning.

First...

If judged by its cover, my car is a certifiable POS. I contend that it is a 12 year old Subaru with almost 130k miles, that has rarely been garaged, and thus the outer appearance is...well, let's just say the elements have not been kind. But it's PAID for. AND it gets me where I need to go - often when nicer cars cannot perform. So, nyah!

So, I'm driving to work this morning in the groundclouds that made it dark and gloomy when I got to the newly added stop light, replacing a 4 way stop, and cursed the nuisance of this new light.

At green, I began to go again, and my li'l navy blue wonder had to be prodded a bit.

Ok, more gas, that's more like it. Oh, wait...WTH was THAT?

That, was my speedometer needle going up and down like a diving board would after Ralphie May gave a good jump off. And the RPM needle.

Well...hmmm...car's still goin' though, right? But cripes, what next, a full Linda Blair revolution?

As it would turn out, no. It did peak up high and then just die, only to rest at 0mph, despite the car following closely behind the vehicle in front. Then the ABS light came on. Slight shudders could be felt through the gas pedal.

Holy schnikes, I thought, as Maximum Overdrive came to mind. Not that I've watched it recently, or that it was that great of a movie, but it used to scare the hell out of me as a kid.

As I rounded the corner by Horseshoe Lake, the fog got REALLY thick, and the guage needles suddenly revived themselves again - only to plummet back to 0. Then, my airbag light went on. And my heater and radio just went poof!

Creepy...Let's just hope I get to work in one piece.

I get to work, call Charlie Brown - who is a Subaru guru, if you remember - and before I even got all the story out, he says, "It's the alternator. I'll be by there for lunch and put a new one in."

Ok, then - so now I'm left wondering how many Bermuda triangle instances were really fritzing alternators?

Monday, October 15, 2007

Blog Action Day

I've been looking around the blogosphere today and finding that it is blog action day.

Cool beans.

I found the most fascinating quote over at Larry James' today:

"True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring."

--Martin Luther King, Jr.
Sermon at Riverside Church for Clergy and Laity Concerned
New York CityApril 1967

It sums up the longing in my heart - true progress towards social justice will come about with the restructuring of our institutions.

But, lest I become guilty of "looking [solely] to the institutions to solve complex societal and individual issues" (per my class this weekend) let me remind you that institutional changes start with our every day lives.

As such, Blog Action Day is great, but in the end, just A day. What about the remaining 364 in our years?

I want my LIFE to be about acting upon the causes I care for, for the people I care for.

That want makes it easy for me to go to work each day and study each night.

We can change the world.

But it takes time. Don't waste it. Let today be the beginning of your life of action.

Back, With Tales from D Town


Class was good.

Overwhelming - given the little communication glitch - but the prof was much better in person than via e-mail. So that was nice.

It was a large class too - like 40 grad students - so there was a lot of diversity in experience, which I enjoy.


Meeting Heather was also fun and awesome!

Hotel Chez Neff is the bestest out there. The hostess is sweet, extremely accommodating, and TOTALLY FOR REAL. I recommend her hospitality :-) And the entertainment - made me not miss my kiddos quite so much, since there was plenty of their sweetness to go around. I had a blast - even if bogged down with
homework and class time.


We went to Bonefish Grill for a girl's nite out dinner Saturday night and giggled like schoolgirls when the hostess asked us for a name for our party...


"HEATHER" we chimed in exuberantly. At the hostess' "Uh, I see...I don't get it," look, Heather explained that we were in fact both Heathers. She still wasn't impressed, and you probably aren't either, but it seemed funny to us at the time.


Then as we were eating...an older gentleman behind me got down and dirty. Heather's eyes got big and she mouthed, "Look behind you..." so I did, only to find man breasts and a flabby belly exposed for all to see. Ok, then. Dude needs a Bro, I thought.


Heather's chicken had not been done at first bite - which meant the mgr came out, apologized profusely, got her more chicken, done right this time, and told us dessert was on the house.


When dessert came, the waitress asked us if were ready for dessert. Heather said she hadn't seen a dessert menu, and the waitress said (almost in a flirty way), "I am the dessert menu..." and then rattled off the choices. I about bust up laughing at Heather's facial response.

Left: Heather N. Right: Me!

Dinner was later summed up by us in that we'd seen some serious skin and then were propositioned by another woman, lol. When we told Heather's husband that on our return, he looked VERY confused. And oh did we laugh.
But the best part?

Last night as I came home, my family had missed me, and honored me by assuring that the home was CLEAN upon my arrival!

And the smell of chocolate chip cookies wafted through my abode, welcoming me in.

I was surprised - for certain.

But it was blissful to be back home, with the smells of baking, cool in the air, and cozyness of Charlie Brown and I on the couch, snuggling with my blankie (after I got LMNOB to relinquish it from her room - the little thief - she has her own!), reading more of the book that I have not yet finished for school, and him watching the Rockies. Who won. Again!

The only thing that would have topped it would have been a little adult recreational activity - but we were both weary, so it's ok...we'll get to that.

Ah, contentment, it is a nice feeling....

Friday, October 12, 2007

Back to Denver for School

It ought to be eeenteresting, very eeenteresting, as the prof is a visiting prof from Michigan...the class is Conflict Management...and when a fellow student e-mailed him about a syllabus, the prof bit his head off.

Turns out he ASSumed that the school had made the syllabus available online, and thus this fellow student was an idiot, and should "damn well better know how to access these things without help." So said the e-mail exchange.

The school never posted the syllabus in their site's reorg this summer.

Whoopsie.

I am loving it, finding a delectable amount of irony in the professor's response and the subject matter of the course.

Because I'm twisted like that.

And my intended to be somewhat snarky response to the prof's e-mail that said, paraphrased, "Here's the syllabus. Yes the first assignment is due at the class in less than a week. Yes it's big. Deal with it. It was not my fault.", was read in a different light than inteded, earning me a "What a positive outlook - that should take you far in life," from the prof. Irony again has earned me brownie points, it would seem?

It will be eenteresting indeed.

Oh, and the other cool thing about this weekend? I get to meet Heather N!! Finally...it's only taken 7+ years of internetting.

In Which My Ramblings Work as a Peer Support Group

Sara, at Suburban Oblivion is currently being featured on BlogHer Headlines for her outspoken post raising awareness about the benefits of antidepressants. How they are not "happy pills," so much as they are "Oh my God I am a functional person again because they brought me back to baseline," pills.

As I read that post, oh, how I related. And even more so as I read the post she had up yesterday.

Depression doesn't just go away. And one of the cruelest things about it is that often the things that happen in the fog become all too clear just as we feel life might be worth living again; after we've stabilized on our meds. Seeing the error of our ways with such clarity does nothing to help our new mental status. At least it didn't for me.

When I first started this blog in 2006, I was about 12 weeks into my antidepressant. We were recovering from some big $ mistakes I'd made while in my apathetic, I wish the real world just stop hasselin' me clearly not clear and utterly befuddled state of mind. Life was starting to become all right again. Then this happened, in which the original scheduling mistake had been made while I had been in the hazy brainfunk known as depression. And then the Boss took action. And I spiraled down into a point of utter desperation, so fragile had been my newfound hope.

It's a dance, this thing called recovery.

Sara, it will get better. Hang in.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

A Humble Prayer

Found this on a msg board I frequent...

Heavenly Father,

Help us remember that the jerk who cut us off in traffic last night could be a single mother who worked nine hours that day and is rushing home to cook dinner, help with homework, do the laundry and spend a few precious moments with her children.

Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man who can't make change correctly could be a worried 19-year-old college student, balancing his apprehension over final exams with his fear of not getting his student loans for next semester.

Remind us, Lord, that the scary looking bum, begging for money in the same spot every day (who really ought to get a job!) could be a slave to addictions, as a sole means of escaping a life of trauma that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares!

Help us to remember that the old couple walking annoyingly slow through the store aisles and blocking our shopping progress could be savoring this moment, knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got back last week, this will be the last year that they go shopping together

Heavenly Father, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us, the greatest gift is love. It is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear. Open our hearts not to just those who are close to us, but to all humanity. Let us be slow to judge and quick to forgive, show patience, empathy and love.
--Author Unknown


Now...I better hear a chorus of Amens, believing ones or not. Ya hear?

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

On the spot...

So yesterday, I was training volunteers on the newly adopted protocols for the severe weather shelter...

And as I got to the part about the breathalyzers for entry, my friend put me on the spot, asking all sorts of whys and hows and other miscellaneous scenarios that really, probably are not going to happen just as he manipulated for his examples.

He was trying to win. And getting me to lose credibility. Not hard, given that I was half the age of anyone in the room. And female, to their male superiority.

But I stuck to my guns. And sent mental SOS notes to my friend from the Loveland PD who was going to do crisis intervention training for them after I went over the rules.

When the friend in the audience continued, he said, "This really isn't fair of me to put her on the spot - I really ought to be asking the City Manager."

And I jumped on it.

My voice hard and steely, my eyes dead-on in, "ya wanna go?" mode, I said, "You're right, it's not fair. And I don't appreciate it. If you recall, I asked for citizen input months ago. I got nothing. And right what you have in your hands is what you've got to go with. And the bottom line is that every one of you is going to sign a statement that you understand the rules and that you WILL abide by them, and you're going to turn that in to me, thus you are bound by that. If you choose not to comply with that then the shelter will not exist."

So, die on your sword of principle for maybe one person, or play by the rules.

I kid you not. I was somewhat embarrassed later that I put it all out there like I did.

My cop friend told me later..."I, uh thought about rescuing you with an answer to that, but you did pretty damned good holding your own. You must have been a hell of an outreach worker."

*Edited to add - this post was a rush job. It does not fully convey the complexities of the exchange. The man in the audience who was questioning me was not trying to bring me down, so much as he was wanting to budge the rule. And, I understand why - because I know many of these folks too. He's a great guy. BUT...again, it isn't really my call. And, as a public servant - I am willing to make some folks feel uncomfortable with a breathalyzer if it decreases the risk of harm to any and all. I am willing to exclude someone if they choose alcohol over shelter (even though if they are an alcoholic, it is much less a choice and more a compulsion - I KNOW this) to keep one or ten people safe. Even with the edits - I'm not getting it all out there...

:sigh:

Monday, October 8, 2007

Digging Out...

Well...even though we didn't hear back from the lab on Friday, I think we are on the mend now?

(Knocking on my new, DIY hardwood floor - more to come on that adventure)

Punkinhead has been free of the diarrhea since Friday night. LMNOB is still having "soft" stools, but it's not diarrhea.

All righty, that's enough of that crap. Hopefully.

Today, I will begin the monumental task of digging out - a mountain of voicemails, e-mails, and a ginormous to-do list, that must be done by today, awaits at work, since instead of being able to work some from home, I was fighting with MD's over crappy details. Gah, that makes me so mad.

And school...bwahaha? I am so behind.

I really wish I had that nose twitchin' capability that Samantha awed me with as a child. Then I might stand a chance.

Friday, October 5, 2007

37 hours...

Ya'll are probably sick of this shit too, eh? Well, too bad. You're in it with me, albeit vicariously.

Punkinhead even had a "formed" stool this afternoon for the poop watch.

And yet...

He still had diarrhea this evening. What good is the 24 hour guideline when we seem to go justpast it, to no avail?

LMNOB has been having tummy cramps just before a BM and then diarrhea at least 3 times today on my watch.

I turned the samples into the lab today at 12:30. Then left to help at LMNOB's school for FUN DAY (and oh what a not fun sensory nightmare it was - for me!), which we then left just prior to the end for the reunion with BT the OT. (She'd had to cancel us for a hospital patient 3 wks ago, and then went on a 2 wk vacay. God has heard countless times how we've missed her work over the past 3 weeks!) I VENTED my heart out to BT the OT, about how M-D does not spell "GOD," and she was sayin' "Sing it sistah," at the end.

I, for some unknown reason, had expected a phone call from the doc about lab results - 'cause ya know, a heads up either way would be nice.

I was disappointed.

Me, my kids, and Dr. PediatricianThatWe'veHadFor.EV.er?

We are so over.

Poop Watch: 2007

Sooo...


After some 6 hours passed, and two more voice mails left, I finally got a call back from Dr. PediatricianThatWe’veHadFOR.EV.ER, HIMSELF.


"So, uh, I understand you've had some diarrhea and..."


"And it has been recurrent for 10 days now, not following any rhyme or reason with my knowledge of GI bugs, and there is a health alert out for cryptosporidium, and Dr. OnlyWomanInThePractice completely dismissed me and wasted my time and money."


"Well, we go by national guidelines, you know. How many diarrhea stools are they having a day?"


"I dunno, maybe 2-3?"


"Well, 4 is the number we look for."


"Ok, whatever, she didn't even ask me that - so how then would ya'll have known? I mean all she did was look them over, listen to their heart/lungs and send us on our merry way."


"Well, again, sometimes we have to go with how the kids look - 2-3 loose bowels a day can cause some kids a lot of fatigue and to seem really sick - whereas others are happy go lucky, just with a lot of stools coming out, you know?"


"I DO know - my kids are in that latter group and it is really hard keeping them out of their normal routines when by all appearances things are normal. HOWEVER, that's a focus on how sick they are, which is not a lot now, and not on how healthy they are - which we will not know for certain until everything goes away or until we TEST for this crypto. And national guidelines are fine, but when the LOCAL health dept. is saying 'outbreak,' why in the hell don't you pay attention to that? I do NOT want my kids to spread something around if they in fact have it."


I won. But Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze, why does it have to be so hard? WHY???


So he called in the lab order - which meant that I had to go pick up two sets of these:


And 2 toilet seat "catchers" for the poo.

I then had to convince LMNOB to poop in it for me, so that I could scoop it into the vials.

Grody, grody, grossness. And awkward with all of her Sensory Processing Disorder / 6-y/o-girl-I-am-now-so-MODEST-about-EVERYTHING self. She was mortified.

But we did it. Last night.

Punkinhead on the other hand has still yet to have a bowel movement.

I hereby proclaim this Poop Watch: 2007 - and respectfully request that Dirty Jobs include the often nasty occupation of "Mom" to their ranks, particularly the highly specialized troups of "Mothers of small children."

Also? The DOG had diarrhea this morning.

All things GI - viral or buggy or whatever the hell it may be, PLEASE LEAVE GET THE EFF OUT OF Casa Del Meyer!

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Sick of this CRAP!

That is of the watery, incognito-then-recurring variety found here at Casa del Meyer.

Also? I am very disturbed right now. The language is much harder than my normal PG 13. You sailors can laugh all you want, but this is hard core for me, and possibly for many of my readers. That said - take cover, F bombs are present in this post.

I alluded to our malaise in yesterday's post, but there's a couple of reasons why I think it fits for us:

Scenario 1:
Labor Day, September 3: Pancake Breakfast with church at an elderly couple's rural farm. Said farm has a wonderland for thrill seekers, including a rip cord across a canal, rope swings and a giant platform "hop on" swing. My kids of course, fully submerged themselves in the canal water after repeated stints with the rope swing.

Crypto is a waterborne parasite...

Incubation....

Scenario 2:
2, maybe 3 weeks ago...daycare provider's 2 y/o son had diarrhea that would. not. GO. AWAY.

Exposure...prior to crypto warning and subsequent ritual cleaning...

Plus, toddler hygiene - need I say more?

Incubation....

Nevertheless, the end result is that Casa del Meyer has had the following GI timeline:

September 18th - I hosted a direct sales party at home, and stayed home to clean and prep. Charlie Brown called me - mortified - from work. Could I please bring him a change of underwear? He'd apparently shat himself.

18th - 23rd really vague and general "Mommy, my tummy hurtses" statements from Punkinhead and LMNOB.

September 24th: Punkinhead throws up. Charlie Brown not well. They stay home.

September 25th: all clear - daycare, school and work we go.

September 26th: LMNOB throws up. All. DAY. Long. I stay home with her.

September 27th: LMNOB has had diarrhea - I stay home again.

September 28th: We're all good. I go to work, for a training in Denver. Upon returning to the office at 3:00pm, there is a msg from daycare: Punkinhead has had diarrhea all day. Pick him up.

September 29th: Kids ok. Charlie Brown is vomitting and diarrhea-ing.

September 30th: Kids still ok. I am vomitting and diarrhea-ing. Charlie Brown is slowing down on the sick.

Monday, Oct. 1: I stay home - kids go to school and daycare. Daycare calls at 3:00 - Punkinhead had diarrhea explosion during nap. I pick him up. That evening, daycare provider calls with crypto information.

Tuesday, Oct 2: Punkinhead is solid. We all go to school, daycare, work. At 4:15 e-mail from LMNOB's teacher pops on screen, saying "LMNOB had an accident at school today. She's ok, got change of clothes from the nurse, and we talked - she said her tummy was not feeling well."
Pick kids up at daycare - tell daycare provider - she tells me she can't take them until they've been "solid" for at least 24 hrs. Which is fine, except, they have gone 24hrs without diarrhea multiple times, and yet here we still are. I, being the public awareness minded person I am, sent LMNOB's teacher and principle the health alert, explaining that LMNOB would be home tomorrow.

Weds. Oct 3: I stay home with kids (note this is the 4th day home from work). I bought new shower curtain and bath accessories for the kids, totally sanitized every surface imaginable with peroxide, called the health dept - who told me to call the kids' pediatrician and get them tested.

Call the pediatrician - he's not there but one of his associates is - ok, that'll work.

We go in. Tell the nurse EV.er.Y.thiiiiiiing, no diarrhea from Punkinhead today, some from LMNOB.

Wait for MD.

She comes in - makes me repeat EV.er.Y.thiiiiiiing, tells me the standard "GI bugs transmit fecal-orally, they spread back and forth a lot in daycare due to poor hygiene, yada yada, oh, hey are ya Rockies fans? They're winning! Bye-bye. Kids, make sure you get a sticker on the way out."

"Whoah - wait," I interrupt, pointing to my Larimer County Health Dept. handout, "Don't you need to test them for this outbreak thing?"

"Nah, we don't do that."

"Ooooooooookay." I am not impressed. Especially given our last interaction with this clinic.

"Well," she asked, now feeling acquiescent...sort of? "Do you need anything - like a note, or something?"

:LOUD sigh:

"Uhm, yeah - I mean since the diarrhea has been recurrent, my daycare provider is leary of taking them back in. And, you know, I surely don't want to be spreading something in the absence of diarrhea and then having it pop back up again." Ya know, because I am a somewhat responsible member of this community and all, and have a CONSCIENCE about communicable health.

She wrote them notes to get back into daycare/school tomorrow. EVEN THOUGH I'D TOLD HER LMNOB HAD HAD DIARRHEA NOT 3 HOURS EARLIER!

I left - pissed that I would have to pay upwards of $100 for 10 minutes of a less than half-assed (quarter-assed?) pass at feigning interest in my children's health. I'm sorry ya'll the F bomb is about to be utilized. FUCK if that isn't the reason we are in a damned health CARE crisis in this nation, is crap like this! And I have insurance!

LMNOB proceeded to have more diarrhea in the afternoon.

I continued cleaning. Cooked the best meal we've had in two weeks since this shit began, and all seemed to be on the up.

Thursday, Oct. 4: I'm up, getting myself and LMNOB ready, when Punkinhead wails frantically from the bathroom, "Mama, I need help wiping!"

Go in and assess. The toilet bowl is full of brown water. Again.

Now..."mother cow" is my euphemistic attempt to avoid motherfucker - but it ALL came out, "Mother fuckin' cow! Dammit."

Punkinhead: "Mama, I'm swowwy!"

"Oh honey, no, it's not you - you can't control it. It's ok. I just REALLY want you to get better."

Wipe up the toilet bowl with peroxide. Wash hands for a period of time only an obsessive compulsive would approve of.

Get LMNOB off to school. Call the school, say she's on her way. Explain yesterday's visit. Explain that we are again dealing with diarrhea in my son, and that we will keep the school apprised as to what we're told.

Call the pediatrician's office.

"Clinic Name, this is Darlene."

"Hi Darlene, this is Heather Meyer, my kids were in yesterday to see Dr. OnlyWomanInThePractice."

"Yes..."

"Well, Darlene, Dr. OnlyWomanInThePractice virtually told me I was chasing a GI bug, that there was no need to test for crypto, and sent me on my way. And now, my son has just had diarrhea AGAIN, which makes for the 10th day, and this is not normal and I would really like to talk to someone about actually testing for crypto. Dr. PediatricianThatWe’veHadFOR.EV.ER, perhaps?

"Well, Dr. PediatricianThatWe’veHadFOR.EV.ER is not in yet, can I put you through to his PA's line?"

"Sure...whatever."

Get Voicemail. Leave long message, explaining that I am tired of being dismissed, I am looking into switching providers, and that I really would like to have a call returned about the feasibility of this crypto test.

That was two hours ago.

I am sick of this crap - nah, I'll call it like it is. I am sick of this SHIT, on more than one level.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Betcha Didn't Know...

  • *Y-E-S = No. This is the latest from Punkinhead - and it cracks me up because he thinks he is being just like his big sis who often rolls her eyes and says, "N-O. No," or is bouncing arround, proclaiming an excited, head bobbing, "Y-E-S. YES!" So he's a little confused, and is often touting "Y-E-S. No!"
  • *Some GI bugs are really slow in going away. And it is particularly disturbing when the diarrhea seems to have gone away, only to pop right back up again - making you look like the mother who dropped her sick kids off at daycare because work is so much more important. Even more disturbing? Having your childcare provider call you and say this mysterious GI bug and it's cantankerous hangy-on-ness (yes, I just made that rather sophisticated term up) is quite likely something horrible and freaky called cryptosporidiosis, an infectious disease that is up this year in CO. In the handout she received from the Larimer County Health Dept., it says:
    An unusual feature of cryptosporidiosis is that some people seem to get better only to have the diarrhea come back in a few days. Symptoms can come and go for up to 30 days, but usually subside in 1 to 2 weeks.
  • *Another something I'll betcha didn't know? Crypto (as they like to call it, I'm finding) lives through bleaching regimens. That's one seriously potent little parasitic MoFo! What does kill it? Hydrogen peroxide...so don't clean with your best clothes on. :sigh:
  • *Oh and finally...I have approximately 10 hours left of medical leave until January. And very little vacation time. Fun.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Left for Another...

Yesterday, our pastor resigned.

We were not there because I now had the tummy yuck as did Charlie Brown.

Our "source" came into Charlie Brown's shop today b/c he had car woes. He told Charlie Brown, saying it was another blast against the elders.

We've had a lot of people leaving. A lot of people fighting. And a lot of strife.

It is complicated and maddening. Overall incredibly saddening.

I was close to our pastor, having confided in him some of the ubloggables of my marriage, sharing with him the new revelations I'd arrived at in my walk.

And I will miss him.

I will also support the men in leadership at our church.

The hearts for God in that group are great and mighty.

I just pray for healing. Lest we all fall apart.