Running for Office

No, not me (that would be priceless...)

Madi wants to be the Student Council Representative from her 4th grade class.  Yay!  As a former Student Council member and proud and supportive parent, I am happy to help however I can.

Except she came into my room last night at 9:30 and annouced that she had forgotten to write her speech, and the election was tomorrow.  Since I was knee-deep in a panic-attack / nausea / migraine-riddled evening, I told her that she could get up a little earlier and write it in the morning.

This morning didn't find me in much better shape; I got Sarah out the door, set Madi in motion getting ready, and set my alarm for 20 minutes before we needed to leave for the bus, planning on trying to sleep a bit.  I knew we could easily knock out a 20 second speech in about 5 minutes.

You know that there's a "but" coming, right?

The speech did take 5 minutes to write - Madi had her thoughts well composed - but during the composition she mentioned that they could make campaign posters as well.  Campaign posters.

This was a true test of motherhood.  I looked at the clock - we had 10 MINUTES before she needed to leave for the bus. A wise mother would have said "oops!  You should have thought of that a week ago!*" and let natural consequences teach the lesson.

I am not wise.

I wanted her to WIN.

So, we scrambled and worked together (!) and came up with a poster.  I cannot tell you how grateful I am for computers, scrapbook paper, and glue sticks.  I cannot believe we pulled together a poster in 15 minutes, but we did.

The picture on the poster is Madi, age 3, face covered in shaving cream.  Pretty darn cute.

Well, now at least she has a fair shot.  The rest is up to her and the fickle voting whims of 26 fourth graders.  I'm going back to bed.

VOTE MADI!

*In her defense, Madi had told me that her teacher didn't tell them about the campaign poster until yesterday.

ps - we didn't make the bus, but did have enough time for me to change out of my PJs and drive her to school on time.

UPDATE: Apparently, all of the other moms were "wise" - Madi was the only candidate with a poster.  :)  Unfortunately, she didn't win.  :(  The election was won by Brady, last year's winner.  Madi's being a trooper, but I can tell she's disappointed.

Another Day

Today is a new day.

Last night, I put clean sheets on the bed that I've been living in, and watched a movie on Netflix called "What If?"

It made me think a lot about the choices that we make.

So, today, I chose to open the curtains and let the daylight in.  Today, it helps.  It makes me want to do something, so I'm heading to the store.  The little voice in my head is mocking me, telling me that "going to the store" should not have to be a goal for the day, but today the rest of me is strong enough to fight back, and scream - BABY STEPS!

It's Not That Bad

note: this is not a kid-friendly post...

It's not that bad.

That's what I keep telling myself.  I have a good life.  A great husband, two kids who love me like crazy, a safe home, food to eat, money in the bank, my husband's stable job with great medical coverage, reliable transportation, etc. etc. etc. ... I am abundantly blessed.  So very, very many people have things so much harder than I do.  It's not that bad.

It's not working.

No matter how many times I repeat that mantra, it's not helping.  I've spent the last 6 hours in my darkened room, unable to get on with my day.  After the next dose of xanax, I tell myself - then I'll be able to go to the store.  But, I take the dose, try to leave my room, and my heart starts pounding and the blood starts rushing and as the panic rises I just give up and go back to the darkness.  Watch another show on my laptop - escape to another reality.  Live someone else's life.

But I don't know why.  My reality is not bad.  It's actually quite good, aside from the kinks that autism puts into it.  Why can't I bring myself to live my own life?  Am I really just that lazy?

It's a few minutes before 3, and I have about 30 more minutes before the kids start coming home and I need to pull myself together, to try to pretend that Mom's not losing it.  The sad thing is, they know.  Even Sarah - developmental delays and all - I'm not even good enough to fool her.

The irony of it all?  That this episode of panic/anxiety that has gripped me for the last 12 days was brought on by me trying to be a better mom for them.  I wanted to deal with the depression that had been haunting me; to take back my life and be a wife and mom who laughed, who didn't take everything so seriously, who actually enjoyed life, and enjoyed spending time with her kids.

So at my annual physical, I got a prescription for Zoloft, which had helped me before.

And 8 hours later, I was in the ER, scarring both myself and my youngest daughter with a 911 call that brought police, medics, and an ambulance ride into my life.  Living the agony of being so anxious that you KNOW you are going to die while your husband is in another state and your kids are staying with a kindly woman who doesn't have a lot of experience with autism...and needs to go to work in a few hours.  I will never ever again marginalize anyone who suffers from a panic disorder.  There is a voice in your head, telling you that you're not rational, but your body is not listening, and it's terrifying.

The doctors tell me to keep taking the meds, these side effects will go away, that sometimes it gets worse before it gets better.  I hope so, because my quest to be a better mom has currently had quite the opposite effect. I've had a few okay days since, but today is a step back. Today I just want to WANT to leave my bedroom.

Change is Good

Have you ever made a change, then asked yourself - "Why on earth did I wait so long to do that?"

I took the plunge and changed my hair today.  I colored it myself, then went and got a new cut.  Can I just say - I love my stylist.  I took in a picture of what I wanted, and she did a fabulous job of adapting it to my face shape and hair type.   It was amazing how much hair was piled up on the floor when she was done.

Here is the before shot.  (This is me first thing in the morning, no shower, no makeup.  I can't believe I'm posting it, but it's all I've got.)

Here is the final result!

I might go in for a few highlights, but for now, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.  I'll have to check some old photos, but I think it's a lot like a cut I used to have years ago.

Amazingly, Sarah looked at me when I got home and didn't even comment. The girl notices every burned out bulb, every balloon that's floated to the 20 ft. ceiling of the store, every minute detail of... everything, and she doesn't even notice that Mom cut 6 inches off her hair.

Madi took one look at me and said - "Mom, your hair looks weird. (pause) You look like Grandma Gail."  Grandma Gail, I'm certain that she does NOT think you (or your hair) are weird.  And even if she does, she still loves you very, very much.

Recipe: N-ice Cream

Since learning a few years back of my increasing lactose intolerance, the one thing that I've really missed is ice cream.  I haven't really explored the workarounds of pills and lactose-free milk, because, really - who NEEDS ice cream?  The threat of abdominal agony has worked wonders at keeping me from the calorie-laden treat.

It recently came to my attention that you can make a pseudo-ice-cream from bananas.  Did you know if you puree bananas and freeze them, they taste remarkably like ice cream?  Apparently, this is a well-known trick amongst sneaky moms.  I must have missed the memo...

So, now I eat this yummy treat while the rest of my family devours ice cream.  It satisfies my craving, and allows me to feel smugly superior for my healthy choice.  :)  If I'm willing to forgo the feelings of superiority, I add chocolate sauce and nuts, and it tastes like a banana split! 

I've dubbed it "Nice Cream" - 'cause it's N(ot)Ice Cream.

Nice Cream

3 ripe bananas, sliced
1/4 cup of unsweetened almond (or rice) milk (optional)
1 tsp vanilla (optional)

Combine ingredients in blender and puree until smooth.  Add to ice cream maker, following manufacturer's instructions.  It may need additional time in the freezer to fully harden.  Enjoy!

A note on banana ripeness:  the riper the banana, the richer the flavor, but the darker the color of the finished product.  I usually use bananas that are moderately freckled.

It's Not All in My Head...

So, I've had knee pain for about 5 weeks now, and I've been starting to feel that perhaps I am just not very tough.  A suspicion strongly reinforced when I recall how poorly I handled the epidural-free birth of my first child.  Fourteen years later, I still feel bad for the other women on the floor who had to endure an entire day of my screams of agony lady-like utterances.

Today, the doctor called with results from my MRI, and, while the question of my wimpiness is still unresolved, I do have legitimate cause for pain.  Turns out I have a posterior medial meniscal tear.  It's not all in my head - there is actually something wrong with my knee!  Strangely, this makes me very excited.  I have the name of an orthopedic surgeon, and will be calling first thing in the morning to set up an appointment.

The lure of Google was strong, so I googled my condition, and it's not encouraging, at least in the long term.  Seems that people who have the surgery to repair the tear (it's not really an option - it often doesn't heal on its own) end up with a greatly increased risk of osteoarthritis in their knee.  Also, pain relief occurs in about 60% of patients.  I don't want to be one of the 40%.

So, I'll go to the surgeon, learn more about what's wrong, and make plans from there.  It does look like surgery is in my future, though.  I'll keep you posted...

Tried... and failed

So, I tried riding my mountain bike on a casual ride to the elementary school and back (less than two miles) yesterday.  I was riding at a Madi pace (which is surprisingly fast - 10-12 mph) and there were no hills.

My knee was stiff, but I expected as much, seeing as I haven't done anything in the last 5 weeks except lose muscle and gain weight.  By the time I was close to home - about mile 1.5 - the knee was really starting to complain.

I came home, and took 2 Aleve (which my doctor tells me is prescription strength).  Hours later I was still in pain, and it was getting worse.  I called the doctor to see what last Friday's MRI said, but I haven't heard back.  My biggest fear is that the MRI will be clean, and then what?

Regardless, it doesn't appear that I will be hopping back on the bike anytime soon.  *sob*