The Great Potato Fight

I used to love to cook. I remember chomping at the bit to get into the kitchen, eager to play and whip up new and exciting dishes. I still enjoy spending time in the kitchen, but what was once a beloved and relaxing activity has become a chore.  In between writing reports, fielding conference calls, finishing assorted projects, managing my social media responsibilities and entertaining Hamlet, I still manage to make dinner. Every. Single. Night.

Yesterday was especially busy because I decided to surprise Robby (and Timmy) with a trip to Jumping Jimmy's after school. (In addition to wanting to see the boys have fun I must admit to some ulterior motives. I've discovered that taking the boys to a bounce house tires them out, dramatically simplifying our bedtime routines.) Before I left the house to pick up Robby from school, I prepared dinner. I prepped chicken and potatoes so that all I had to do was put it in the oven when we came home. Granted that roasted chicken and potatoes isn't gourmet, but it is a solid meal.

After spending an hour jumping and playing, we came home, and I immediately put the chicken into the oven. Because I was tired and wanted to be comfortable, I changed out of my clothes and into my yellow nightgown. (I realize that it was only 4:30, but I had already been up for 12 hours at this point and was beginning to anticipate going to bed.)  Ninety minutes later the house smelled yummy and dinner was ready. Sitting down for dinner, I saw Scott turn up his nose when he saw the chicken and potatoes.

With all seriousness, he asked me if the potatoes were crunchy. I explained that they were freshly dug potatoes from the farm that had been roasted with the chicken. He put down his fork and proclaimed "I have decided that I am only going to eat crunchy foods from now until my surgery." (He is having his wisdom teeth removed next Thursday which, if you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you realize this is quite the traumatic event for him.) 

Seeing that his Daddy was refusing the non-crunchy potatoes, Robby followed suit. Both crunch-seeking eaters picked at some chicken and refused to touch the potatoes. I could feel my blood pressure rising each time they pushed the food around their plates.  Finally I had enough! I put the rest of the potatoes and chicken on a plate and directed Scott to take it to Mr. Bill.  I dismissed all of his attempts to defend his crunch-seeking ways and proceeded to clean the dishes. 

As I was loading the dishwasher, my ire was rising. Seeing Scott across the street laughing on Mr. Bill's porch was my tipping point. Still holding a dirty red spoon, I went outside onto our deck and screamed across the street.  "Hey Your Highness, make sure you apologize for the potatoes not being crunchy enough."

And then I saw myself: I was standing outside, furiously squawking across the street while wearing a yellow nightgown at 5:30 in the afternoon. Yikes. When did fighting over non-crunchy potatoes become my reality?  I took a deep breath, tried to muster as much dignity as possible and went back inside. 

I decided to forgo arguing about dinner. I figured that the boys would find something to eat when they were hungry. I closed down the kitchen and proceeded with Timmy's bedtime routine.  I have no intention of rehashing the great potato fight, but I must admit that I'm looking forward to whatever Scott and Robby decide to make for family dinners for the remainder of the week.  This Momom is on strike. 

Nana's Friends

By Friday Robby was fully recovered from his cold, allowing us to proceed with our weekend plans. We packed up the car Friday afternoon and headed to Nana's house. It has been awhile since I visited with my Mom and I was looking forward to the visit.

Although Robby enjoys visiting his Nana, he has been known to complain of boredom. This is especially true when we visit during the weekend, when his cousins are with their dad. He always brings his computer during our visits and typically ends up in a "fort" watching videos for countless hours.  I feel badly that he is bored and watching videos, but realizing that his options for entertainment are limited I try to avoid nagging him to do something more active. 

During our last visit Robby became acquainted with the neighbor children who live up the street from my mom.  He spent hours playing with them and had such a good time that he lamented returning home.  As we were driving to my mom's house, he asked if his friends would remember him and want to play with him again. We both crossed our fingers that his playmates would be available.

After spending a few hours with his Nana, Robby put on his shoes and headed up the street to find his playmates. When he didn't return home, we assumed that he had found them. Sitting on my mom's porch I could hear his squeals and giggles, confirming that he was busy playing. When the sun was beginning to set I headed out to find him. He was happily jumping on the neighbors trampoline with a small army of new friends. 

While Timmy and I were quietly visiting with my mom on Saturday, Robby was busy playing. He left her house after lunch and only returned for bathroom breaks and a snack. Seeing him so happy with playmates, I began to wonder if we should consider moving to a neighborhood with children. I love our house in the woods, but maybe the seclusion isn't the best thing for the boys? In the meantime, at least he can always play with his neighborhood friends at Nana's house. 

Sick Day

Robby woke up yesterday morning complaining of a sore throat and headache.  After verifying that he was running a fever I sent him back to bed. I texted his teacher and went about rescheduling all of my appointments for the day. (Between work meetings, appointments and personal errands, I had an extremely busy day planned.)

As the morning progressed Robby's moderate fever began to lessen. Soon he was at that phase where he was well enough to play Xbox on the couch but too sick to go run around outside. Because his brother was sick, Timmy and I spent the majority of our day outside playing. I blew up our moon bounce and we jumped for almost an hour in our yard. We looked at stick and rocks and also spent a lot of time picking up nuts from our driveway.  (I wouldn't let him then throw those nuts at the car and I held my ground despite his red faced protests.)

It wasn't the busy work day that I had planned, but thankfully I have enough flexibility in my schedule to adjust for the unexpected. I am hoping that a solid nights sleep will knock the bug out completely, allowing my little Koopa to go back to school today.  Thankfully I have the weekend to play catch up after the  sick day. 

Rough Housing

Yesterday I sprung Robby from school a little early so that we could enjoy the fabulous fall weather at the farm. Before the judging starts, know that the early dismissal had the blessing of his teacher. His school values off campus experiences and encourages families to participate in and enjoy community resources.  This educational philosophy is one of the many reasons that Scott and I have chosen this school for Robby. 

Both boys love our weekly farm visits. Robby because he thoroughly enjoys visiting the animals and playing on the various structures and amusements. Timmy simply delights in spending time outside with his big brother. Usually content to tag along behind, pure joy emanates from Hamlet on those rare occasions when his brother actually plays with him instead of just next to him.

Unfortunately, rough housing with a toddler is vastly different than rough housing with another 9 year old.  Timmy doesn't realize that his brother is being rough and smiles through the pain inflicted simply because he is happy for the attention.  Robby doesn't appreciate that he is being too rough because Timmy continues to smile and giggle. I end up standing on the sidelines squawking for Robby to calm it down and play nice. This cycle typically continues until either Robby becomes bored and finds a new activity, I intervene or Timmy becomes hurt. 

Yesterday our fun farm visit ended with me dabbing blood off of the tip of Timmy's nose. Despite my constant warnings to calm down the play, my littlest guy ended up getting hurt on the jumping pillow. It is just a brush burn injury, but hopefully drawing blood will serve as a reminder for Robby to heed my warnings.  Thankfully, his pain was quickly soothed by a few pushes on the swing and feeding the goats. 

Update on the Medicare Proposal

I wanted to provide a quick update on the Medicare proposal that would significantly impact access to lower limb prosthetics. My life, and those of my friends and colleagues, was consumed by this issue throughout the  month of August. As soon as the deadline for comments passed and the calendar changed the entire community has been existing in a holding pattern. 

As it stands right now, nothing official has transpired. CMS and Medicare are not obligated to modify the proposal based upon the hearing and comments submitted, but most of the key players agree that changes will be made by committee members. Rescinding the proposal entirely and starting from scratch is a long shot. It isn't a matter of if the proposal will be enacted, but rather how detrimental the final version will be on accessing lower limb prosthetics. 

I am an eternal optimist and remain hopeful that the most horrific aspects of the proposal will be removed from the final version. If I were to bet, I would lay my money on the elimination of a natural gait requirement as well as the restrictions based upon the utilization of other mobility aids. I suspect that the other aspects of the proposal will be adopted with slight modifications. 

There is no timeline for CMS to act upon their proposal. They can release their final draft today, next month or they can decide to sit upon it indefinitely. The absence of a definitive deadline is frustrating for everybody who rallied and worked tirelessly on this effort.  In some ways we are all in a holding pattern, just waiting to learn our fate.

Our petition to the White House met the minimum required for a response within 17 days. I am extraordinarily proud that ours is the only disability oriented petition to ever meet the threshold required for a response. The community rallied behind the petition and our #NotALuxury movement, forcing the White House to respond to our concerns. We expect to receive a response by the middle of October.

Of course, meeting the requirements for  response and rescinding the proposal are two entirely different things. We do not know what the White House response will look like, nor is Medicare obligated to consider their input when making a decision.  Again, we are caught in a nerve wracking waiting pattern. 

If you haven't yet contacted your elected officials concerning this issue, I encourage you to do so. We need to keep pushing this issue and fight to keep the concerns of the community in the forefront of this fight. Rest assured that I am staying on top of this issue and that I will keep everybody apprised of any developments in this blog.

Exhaustion

Yesterday was not my best day. Timmy woke up obscenely early. By 3:15 he was out of his crib and running around the house, activating every musical toy while breaking out into a dance. I tried to convince him to go back to sleep but I could tell by his energy that he was raring to go. Watching him jump on his trampoline while trying to sing along to his Leap toys, I knew I was going to be putting my coffee maker through its paces. 

By lunchtime I was spent and the near constant flow of caffeine was merely keeping me upright.  Timmy was still going strong, happily playing and creating as much mischief as possible. I was struggling to keep up with my high energy toddler. When I become overly tired I become emotional and depressed, which explains why I was crying while pushing him on his swing set.

At one point I decided that allowing him to unroll the toilet paper through the living room was worth the few moments of quiet rest that the activity afforded.  Unfortunately when the roll was completely unwound the freshly papered living room only contributed to my feeling overwhelmed. I decided to leave the mess.  When Robby came home from school I offered him "a whole quarter" to clean it up. He happily accepted the job and, if you ask me, I made out on the deal. 

Timmy slept better last night and didn't wake me up this morning until almost 5. I'm feeling better and my sleep deprived depression has lifted. I'm hoping that today is going to be a better day!

Part of the Group

For the first time since Robby began school five years ago I actually feel comfortable around the parents of his classmates. Being involved in his life, through whatever avenue necessary, has always been a priority. Despite my efforts to forge friendly relationships with the other parents, I have habitually felt like an outsider.

I suspect that my feelings of being ostracized are probably equal part reality and perception. I have almost a decade on the majority of the other parents. Other than our kids, I just don't really know what I'm supposed to talk about with them. Typically my conversation fodder runs out after five minutes, leaving awkward stumbling and silence until I can figure out how to escape.

If I were to be completely honest, I also feel different from the other moms because of my disability. The fact that I utilize a prosthetic leg is well known and quite obvious. While I'm not ashamed of my amputation, I continue to struggle with feelings of isolation because of it. I can't hide the fact that I look "different" than all of the younger (and considerably perkier) moms.  When I am in a social situation with other parents, I tend to retreat which only intensifies the feelings of not belonging.

While I love chaperoning Robby's field trips, part of me always dreads the forced socializing. Last Friday, while Robby was chomping at the bit to spend the day at the Battlefield with his friends, I was trying to mentally prepare for a day of awkward and forced conversation. Thankfully my worries were for naught because I actually enjoyed talking with the parents who came on our field trip.

I'm not sure if I am more confident or if this group of parents is different, but I felt comfortable and part of the group. I didn't experience the feeling of being isolated from the parent clique. Instead, our conversations flowed organically and comfortably. I actually think I could be friends with these people outside of school!  Who knows, this may be the first year I don't dread taking Robby to birthday parties.