Want To Be My Buddy?

Lately it feels as if I am spending the majority of my waking hours either preparing for a doctor's visit, sitting in his (or her) office, or decompressing afterwards. Between the boys, Scott's extensive dental issues and my own medical needs, I am sitting in a waiting room several times a week. Timmy, normally happy and ready for an adventure, has begun to fuss and cry as soon as we walk into the reception area.

Yesterday it was my turn to sit on the examination table. I was called into the office to investigate some variations in my recent blood work. Although he was disgruntled and tired, amusing Timmy was not the most frustrating experience during my appointment, nor was the  blood draw before I left the office. For me, having a needle jammed into my arm is not nearly as angst-ridden as stepping on the scale.

I can't say that I was shocked that I've gained some weight. I may be denial expert, but even I recognized that my pants were tight. I guess I was just surprised the number that was staring me down. I wanted to break down and cry, but I chose a different approach. Without giving it much thought, I broached my weight with my doctor.

I was proud of  myself for admitting to the doctor that I needed to and wanted to lose weight. For some reason, I have always felt that a desire to lose weight is a taboo topic. Ironic, because weight is definitely one issue that is impossible to mask. By telling the doctor that I wanted to lose weight, I feel like I took the first step towards a healthier life. Wish me luck, and feel free to email/FB/Tweet (@amputeemommy) me if you want a weight loss buddy. I don't really want to do this alone.

Just Another Manic Monday

For the second day in a row, Timmy has slept past 5 AM. I don't want to jinx this trend, but I will say that the extra sleep has been wonderful. I am cautiously optimistic that he has turned the corner with his exhausting sleep pattern. It never hurts to hope, right?

Yesterday was a typical Monday. After the chaos of getting Robby ready for school, part of me was happy when he climbed out of the car. It isn't that I don't love my little Koopa, but I'm not thrilled with the snarky attitude that has started to emerge recently. All of a sudden I do everything wrong. I'm amazed that I have been able to survive before my know-it-all nine year old was there to remind me of everything that I am doing wrong or that should be done better. Needless to say, I'm not loving this stage. I'm fairly confident that it is only a sneak peek at the teen years, but I'm going to mask myself in denial and hope that the Snarky Robby doesn't visit for long.

After dropping off his brother, Timmy and I headed to the doctor. After an extremely long appointment (which is surprising because we saw the physician for maybe 5 minutes) I carried my exhausted, hungry, angry, screaming toddler to the car. He fell sound asleep on the way home but of course he woke as soon as I turned the ignition off and opened his car door.  My hopes of a productive nap time were ruined.

Instead of napping, Timmy and I made cookies for his Daddy's school.  He isn't a skilled assistant (yet) but he certainly enjoys sampling the dough! I am thoroughly enjoying having a little baking assistant again.

Wacky Friday

Friday morning Robby's teacher met me at the door, eager to share a story from the previous day. After ushering my little guy into the room and making sure that he was not within earshot, she began the tale. During snack time on Thursday, Robby confided a secret to both his teacher and her husband. He revealed that he was looking forward to being 10 because then his Daddy promised that he is old enough to finally go to a whore house. He continued by explaining that he is looking forward to going to the whore house with his dad so that he can finally get a look at all of the witches inside. Hearing him say, "But we aren't going to tell Momom that we are going to a whore house because she'll say no, so we are going to go without her knowing" caused his teacher's husband laugh so hard that he coughed his chocolate milk out of his nose, making him late for work.  

I never thought I would need to clarify that Robby is not going to a whore house with his daddy. He meant haunted (horror) house. He is looking forward to going to a haunted house with his daddy next year, not a whore house.  Thankfully his teacher knows our family well enough that she saw nothing but humor in the story. Although it was the source of some embarrassment, I do have to admit that the whore house story put a smile on my face for much of the day.

In the afternoon I picked up Robby and we headed to the mall for Halloween photos. I've always wanted to have professional photos taken of the boys in their coordinating costumes, but somehow I never got around to doing it. Scott met us at the Picture People studio and everybody quickly changed into their costumes. 

Robby is delighted with his World War II Officer's costume. He was walking around the studio with his head held high, saluting anybody who looked in his direction. Scott is such a good sport, happily dressing into his World War II Private costume. He looked something like Gomer Pyle with the tan suspenders and pouches.

 Wanting to keep everybody coordinated but not wanting to put him into a military costume (I just thought he was too young to be in uniform), I had a difficult time coming up with a costume for my Hamlet. When I discovered the baby bald eaglet costume, I knew I had a winner. He was the patriotic symbol that tied everything together. It turns out that my little Hamlet enjoys wearing costumes.

Timmy loves being dressed like an eagle. After a brief moment of shrieking as we pulled the furry tunic over his head, he was immediately delighted. He joined his brother dancing around the studio flapping his little wings and giggling.

Unfortunately, my happy little eaglet wasn't satisfied being cooped in the studio. He spied the mall and took off like a flash. I wish I had a video of the scene that unfolded.  A little baby eaglet running through the center of the mall, squealing and flapping his wings. He was being chased by a World War II private and a pint sized Officer, screaming "Catch that bird" at the top of his lungs. Our little eagle flew all the way to the food court before his little wings were finally clipped. 

Halloween is an unpredictable and wonderful time of year in this house.  The adventures continue...

Splitting and Stacking

Happy Friday!

The weather is supposed to be beautiful, and I'm gearing up for a relaxing albeit busy weekend.  It will be spent working on the wood strewn through our front yard. In just a few short hours after work, Scott has made an impressive dent on the project. I am hopeful that we might actually have everything cleared and chopped by the time we need to return the splitter. Of course, my husband's weekends are typically reserved for football watching, so I'm not entirely convinced that Scott will attack the splitting with the same gusto.

I haven't been able to help with the heavy work, not because I'm not physically able but because I am running around the yard after Timmy. He loves to be in the middle of the action, but splitting logs is not exactly safe for a toddler. He is easily distracted but requires constant attention so that he doesn't wander or eat an acorn.  (I am beginning to think that he is part squirrel when I think of his affinity for popping acorns and hickory nuts in his cheeks.) While Robby, Scott, and Mr. Bill are busy chopping and splitting, I am on the move after the youngest helper. 

Hopefully by the time we go to Trunk-or-Treat on Sunday evening the yard will be cleared of all the wood, and our firewood pile will be stacked and ready for winter. I'm looking forward to being able to walk through our front yard without having to navigate the minefield of limbs, tree sections and divots. It will be nice to look out the front window without feeling overwhelmed by the woody mess!

Lackluster Response

Last Friday the White House finally responded to our We the People petition. The response was lacking in content and, considering that it was released after hours on a Friday night, had the air of being intentionally buried. The administration really didn't need to bury their response; It certainly didn't say anything that could be construed as controversial. In fact, it didn't say anything of consequence!

I was simultaneously heartbroken and angry when I read the response. Reading the non-committal recap of the issues instead of the response to the proposal that was requested, I wanted to cry. I felt like I had wasted my entire August working to secure signatures on a futile petition.

After a few days and multiple conversations with those whom I respect in the field, I have been able to gain perspective.  The statement released by the White House was labeled as the "initial response," and it was indicated that more information would be forthcoming. Those who are working the political side of this issue believe that there are a lot of backroom discussions concerning the proposal and that the fight has not been in vain. The White House felt obligated to provide a response but was not yet prepared to address the specifics.

I took the lack of content as a failure, but it could be a victory. While it is frustrating to continue to wait, the fact that more information was promised is an encouraging sign. It means that access to quality prosthetic care is being examined by the highest levels of our government. My optimism about our success is starting to return.

While I'm feeling more hopeful about the Medicare proposal being rescinded or modified, our battle is not yet over.  Private insurers are already beginning to adopt the detrimental aspects into their policies. As of October 1, UnitedHealth Care has stopped covering prosthetic vacuum systems. They cite the lack of medical evidence as the reason, but privately they attribute the decision to the Medicare proposal. I fear that this is just the beginning of the cascading impact of this proposal.

Dave and I recorded a podcast about the issue and are encouraging everybody to tweet @AskUHC, which is the official customer service handle for United Healthcare.  Please ask them why they are limiting prosthetic care for customers. Don't forget to use the #NotALuxury hashtag so that we can trace and retweet these queries. We need to flood United Healthcare with polite inquiries and concerns so that we can increase public awareness.  Let's continue to make a difference on this issue!

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LumberJacks

We never made it to the farm yesterday. The stars finally aligned, and Timmy ended up taking a substantial nap. I decided that it would be more beneficial (for both of us) to allow him to sleep rather than wake him up and schlep him outside to play. I am amazed by the amount of work that I can accomplish during a few hours of quiet!

Of course, every action has a consequence.  Timmy had a lengthy nap in the afternoon, resulting in his sleeping poorly last night. He woke up at 3 AM. Although I was able to get him back to bed around 4, he was restless and awake (hence keeping me awake)  until I finally surrendered and released him from his crib at 5. The benefits I reaped yesterday were wiped out by one long night.

Somehow I have to tap into my energy reserves by the time Scott gets home from work. We rented a long splitter and need to clean up the yard. We have the machine for a week, but the amount of wood is overwhelming, and I'm beginning to worry that 7 days won't be long enough. I know that I have to stay  motivated and moving because if I relax, the project will never be completed. I don't want to be a nag, but I also don't want to be out the money for the rental and a yard still cluttered with wood. 

I'm still dealing with the sores on my leg. They continue to be painful but are not worsening, so I'm slightly optimistic that I am on the mend. I'm going to the doctor this afternoon to have him check it, and I wouldn't be surprised if I end up with antibiotics. I hate taking pills when they aren't necessary, but the sores have been oozing puss for a few days, and I think it is time to be aggressive. I've been dealing with this issue for a few weeks and I have exhausted all non-medicinal methods. 

Because of the sores, I have to be careful with how much I physically help with the log splitter. Rotating in my socket tends to aggravate the area, which is exactly what I don't want to do. A few years ago we would have been stuck, but now Scott has an eager and capable assistant in Robby. (Before the lectures start, we don't allow Robby to move or handle the logs. His job is limited to lever control and to moving the small pieces to the pile after they have been cut.) 

With my older boys splitting wood, I will be on Timmy duty. I'm sure he is going to want to be outside and part of the action, which is going to clash with my keeping him a safe distance away from the workers. I'm hoping that he becomes bored watching the splitting and I will be able to occupy him with his favorite outdoor activities--picking up nuts and throwing sticks into the woods. Who knows, maybe all of the excitement will tire him out and he'll sleep well past dawn. 

Better Day

Much to screaming Timmy's chagrin, yesterday I took an extra long time getting out of bed. I tried to block out the wailing of his discontent as I slowly stretched and enjoyed being prone for a few brief moments. I knew that it was going to be a long day, and I wanted to enjoy the solitude as long as possible.  Of course, solitude and a screaming toddler don't mix well, so my efforts were short lived. I begrudgingly put on my leg and prepared for the ensuing chaos of another Monday morning.

Just as I predicted, it was constant movement from the moment I picked him up in the morning until I fell into bed at night. Between a near constant stream of work calls, projects with converging due dates, and Timmy tantrums, I barely had time to grab a quick snack for lunch. I hate those frantic mommy days when I feel like I'm barely treading water. I always feel like I'm doing enough to stay afloat but never enough to be really good at anything.

While yesterday I was a good employee, I feel like I was a lousy Mom. I was snappy and impatient with both boys. I know that everybody would have been better off if I had just unplugged, put down the phone and played for awhile. Unfortunately my schedule was demanding and my timelines were pressing.  Perhaps it was fatigue induced, but I went to bed feeling like an utter failure. I tried my best to push the negative thoughts out of my mind, but I definitely had a difficult time decompressing and falling asleep.

Today my schedule is less compact allowing me some much needed playtime. The weather is supposed to be crisp and beautiful, so I think I may take Timmy for a special mommy and me farm adventure. I think we could both use the break from our normal routine.  (Thankfully he is not yet verbal, so I don't have to worry about him telling his big brother that we went to the farm without him.) Today will be a better day!