Early Morning

I used to love the first few days after turning back the clock. I remember basking in the extra hour of sleep and how the benefits were felt for days until my body fully adjusted. Then I had kids, and the days that I had previously enjoyed turned against me in the most ironic manner.

Children, especially toddlers, have no concept of time or the clock. My little tireless Timmy has woken at 3 AM every morning this week. The fact that it is pitch dark outside and that the house is quiet, seem to be irrelevant. I've been trying to keep him up later in the evening to encourage a later wake-up time, but so far our efforts are in vain. Where he is alert and ready to play at an obscene hour, I find myself struggling to function. A steady stream of coffee has become my faithful companion as I try to wrangle an energetic and mischievous toddler. 

Sitting in the dark and quiet room, trying to rock a wiggly and energetic Timmy, my mind begins to wander.  This morning I envisioned my future, visiting him when he is grown and settled with a family of his own. I was reminded that these long and exhausting days will not last forever. Before I am ready, my house will be quiet and I will again have the luxury of sleeping. Soon, this will be nothing more than a memory.  When I am visiting a grown up Timmy, I plan on reminding him of these special hours we spent together. 

Thinking about my future, I couldn't help but smile as my mind concocted the perfect scenario.  I plan on waking him up at 3 AM by frantically demanding breakfast. I will throw the scrambled eggs on the floor, his windows and his cat. I'll stomp and squawk when he fails to read my mind, threatening to wake up everybody in his house with my tantrum. When he thinks that I am calm and happy, I am going to sneak into his bathroom and unravel an entire roll of toilet paper through his hallway before I disrobe and pee on his floor.

I know that these early morning wake up calls won't last forever. In the meantime, I will probably continue to spend the wee hours of the morning imagining my revenge.

We Did It!!

Friday morning I received news that left me absolutely overwhelmed with excitement. Although my first instinct was to log onto my blog to share, I knew that I needed to wait for the official announcement or risk being cut out of the information loop. I was assured that the announcement was imminent, so I eagerly refreshed my inbox and constantly checked my phone throughout the day.  By nightfall I finally received word that the announcement was being held until Monday morning because the powers-that-be didn't want to bury good news over the weekend. 

Yesterday, around 2 in the afternoon, the White House finally issued a follow-up response to our We the People petition.  In short, we won! Although the wording stopped short of using the term "rescind" the White House response indicates that the current draft policy will not be finalized. Instead, a "multidisciplinary Lower Limb Prostheses Interagency Workgroup" will be convened in 2016 to draft a policy that makes sense. Upon reading of the formation of this group I immediately reiterated my offer to serve on the committee. I am hopeful that they will include "real life" amputees in this workgroup, but the membership requirements was deliberately vague in the issued statements.

The statement did ensure that whatever the workgroup proposes will be subject to public response and input.  The opportunity for input was not guaranteed until this statement was released. Rest assured, I will closely monitor the situation and provide updates throughout the process.  Hopefully the new draft policy will be fiscally sound without restricting prosthetic care.  If it is lacking, I am fully prepared to respond.

Although I know that the battle to ensure quality prosthetic care for all amputees is far from over, today I will celebrate this victory.  The community rallied, and we were able to thwart Medicare from adopting an atrocious policy.  With professional groups, manufacturers and a small army of grassroots advocates working together, we were able to effect meaningful change. I am so incredibly proud to have been part of this effort!

Halloween Round-Up

Another successful Halloween is in the books. Scott and Robby took off on the scooter in search of the "good candy." The pair scouted our area in the summer with the theory that the bigger the house, the bigger the candy score. For Robby, the joy of Halloween lies in the pursuit of candy. He still doesn't eat it, but has created a game out of getting as much as possible in the two hour window. 

With Robby and Scott trolling for the good candy, Timmy and I went trick-or-treating up our street. My little eaglet thoroughly enjoyed prancing down the street flapping his wing but seemed ambivalent about approaching houses. I finally convinced him to go to two doors, but by the time he was finished, an hour had elapsed. I picked up my now screaming eagle, his pumpkin carrying the two pieces of candy and schlepped him home.

After tucking Timmy into his crib, I settled in for a night of welcoming trick-or-treaters. I waited until the boys returned at 8:30 before shutting off our lights, disappointed that we only had one group of trick-or-treaters all night. Robby fared far better, bounding up the stairs with two grocery bags full of candy.  His hypothesis of the bigger the house, the better the candy had been tested and proven correct. The amount of candy he scored borders on obscene. 

Robby will probably spend the next few days organizing, sorting and admiring his candy haul. By the end of the week the novelty will be gone, and we will send the loot  with Scott to give to his students. I'm sure that they will appreciate his efforts. 

Toddler Tornado

Yesterday morning I woke up, bent down to put on my leg and became stuck at a 90 degree angle. It took me almost 5 minutes of rocking and stretching (and cursing) before I was able to don my leg and limp out of bed. Lately I have been able to predict the productivity of my day by the level of pain I experience in the morning. Judging from the fact that I could only move with my body contorted like a reverse question mark, I knew it was going to be a long day.

Keeping up with a mischievous toddler while trying to nurse an aching back is an exercise in futility. Although he is only 18 months old, I am fairly certain that Timmy knew that my defenses were weakened. I would love to report that he was caring, loving and well behaved all day out of empathy for my pain. Instead, he took full advantage of the opportunity to wreak as much havoc as possible.

Within a 30 minute period he splashed in the toilets, shoved cat food into his mouth by the fistful and unraveled two rolls of toilet paper through his bedroom. Hoping to minimize the damage, I ended up blocking the exits and limiting access to the living room. I was hoping that he would calm down and quietly play with one of his numerous toys.

I was wrong. My little Hamlet spent the next hour pressing every button available, unplugging cords and raging against the barriers until he was released from his make-shift prison. As much as I begged, he just wouldn't stay still. 

I felt a severe muscle spasm last night, but after that episode I am feeling much better. Today I'm able to bend and walk erect without pain, which is definitely a good thing because I need to start cleaning up the remnants of the toddler tornado that hit my house yesterday.

Party Time

Happy Halloween!

I realize that I am a few days early, but today Robby is attending two Halloween celebrations, and we are fully awash in the spirit of the holiday. This morning his class is going trick-or-treating at a local mall before enjoying a special lunch at the food court. Usually taking Robby to the mall is accompanied by a stream of complaints and procrastination. When he is going with his class, the mall suddenly becomes an epic destination. 

Although he won't have a clue as to what is going on, Timmy will delighted to join the "big kids" for the morning.  (Hopefully the excitement of trick-or-treating will tucker my little eaglet out and coax him into taking a nap.) I'm going to try to keep my little eaglet separate as much as possible, but I suspect that he will spend much of his time frantically pulling on his baby leash as he struggles to keep up with his brother.

After school we head to magic class where they are celebrating the holiday with a magical-themed Halloween party. Much to Timmy's chagrin, he is not invited to this celebration. I will probably end up pushing him through the aisles of a local grocery store until my little magician is done with his party. I'm expecting that Timmy won't be thrilled with this activity, but hopefully I'll be able to distract him and keep him occupied. 

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.