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Morning update.
Jan. 20th, 2009 08:16 amI had a lot of Braxton-Hicks contractions yesterday evening, after the fall, but they cooled off when I lay down. I feel very normal this morning. So we now return to the status quo, yay.
I'm loving this story.
Jan. 19th, 2009 08:50 pmThey are victims of hurricanes and women who suffered in abusive relationships; they are disabled adults and children scarred by poverty. Some suffer from terminal illness. They arrived in Washington by plane, train and automobile from as far away as New Orleans, Galveston, Tex., and Wichita, invited to witness one of the biggest events in a generation.
"Prince, you are stepping up!" Prince Brooks said to himself as he walked into the elegant lobby of the JW Marriott Hotel, surrounded by chandeliers, liveried bellmen and ornate furnishings. "I've got to make the most of it."
Brooks, 57, a homeless veteran, was among hundreds of people from across the country whom Fairfax County businessman Earl W. Stafford invited to attend an inaugural ball in space he rented at the Marriott, two blocks from the White House.
Stafford conceived of it as a simple idea: celebrate the inauguration of the nation's first African American president by inviting to Washington as many people as he could afford, people whose health or economic circumstances would prohibit them from making the trip on their own.
He called it the People's Inaugural Ball and planned other events, including a nighttime tour on the visitors' first evening in Washington, a prayer breakfast and a luncheon today in honor of Martin Luther King Jr.
Stafford told a team of volunteers working with him to provide his guests with everything they need, including luxury accommodations and gowns and tuxedos for the ball. [...]
Then volunteers from the Northern Virginia chapter of the National Urban League started contacting men and women who wanted to donate evening gowns and tuxedos. Hundreds of gowns poured in -- so many that volunteers had to announce that no more could be accepted. Two hundred tuxes came in. A shoe company in Atlanta donated 100 pairs of men's shoes. Hairdressers, barbers and manicurists offered to come in to beautify the guests. Seamstresses offered to make adjustments to any clothing.
Yesterday, the guests flooded into the hotel lobby, registering for rooms with 400-thread-count sheets and down comforters. Even as they benefited from Stafford's generosity yesterday, most of the guests said that they didn't know who he was or that he was spending $1.6 million on them.
I know they have a lot of balls to attend, but I really hope the Obamas stop by that one.
Quick midwife update.
Jan. 19th, 2009 08:25 pmYou know what's not a good idea, when you're damn near 37 weeks pregnant?
Falling hard on the ice on the way into the midwife's office, that's what. I seem to be okay, but I think it's going to be a tense 24 hours until we're absolutely 100% positive that it's not going to send me into labor or anything. We are under orders to call immediately if I notice anything whatsoever that seems funny.
Also, I landed on my right hip, which is the difficult one.
Also, thank goodness Michael and Alex came along to the appointment, or I have no idea how I would've gotten up again.
Fall and resultant shakiness notwithstanding, I managed to come up with a good blood pressure reading of 110/72. No sugar or protein problems. I've gained four pounds (!) since last week, which may partly be a factor of last week's visit being before lunch and this one being immediately after dinner. My uterus is measuring 40cm when I'm contracting and 39cm when I'm not contracting. (Why yes, I am contracting a lot.) I'm Group B Strep negative, yay. (That saves me from having to get antibiotics in labor.) My symptoms are as normal as an extremely normal thing. The baby's heartbeat sounds strong and beautiful.
Then I sent Michael and Alex out of the room and told Kathy about the feelings I had after the hospital tour. She is not the touchy-feeliest of midwives, but she was great. She gently told me that it was entirely appropriate and reasonable and expected to still be grieving and to have negative feelings triggered by my upcoming birth. She thinks that laboring women focus intensely on labor, and that I am unlikely to have significant problems with D&C memories in labor, but she is ready to remind me that I am there to birth a baby. Also, she is fairly certain that if I call when I first notice labor signs they will be able to snag me the room where Alex was born, which not only has positive memories associated with it but is huge and couldn't be more different from the rooms I was in when I miscarried. She's going to tell the other midwives how I'm feeling, which is good.
She also told me, firmly, that the universe intends for me to have this baby, that this is the baby who is meant to be. I'm not sure how I feel about that as a theological position, so I will choose to focus on the part where we are positive that I am going to have this baby.
Falling hard on the ice on the way into the midwife's office, that's what. I seem to be okay, but I think it's going to be a tense 24 hours until we're absolutely 100% positive that it's not going to send me into labor or anything. We are under orders to call immediately if I notice anything whatsoever that seems funny.
Also, I landed on my right hip, which is the difficult one.
Also, thank goodness Michael and Alex came along to the appointment, or I have no idea how I would've gotten up again.
Fall and resultant shakiness notwithstanding, I managed to come up with a good blood pressure reading of 110/72. No sugar or protein problems. I've gained four pounds (!) since last week, which may partly be a factor of last week's visit being before lunch and this one being immediately after dinner. My uterus is measuring 40cm when I'm contracting and 39cm when I'm not contracting. (Why yes, I am contracting a lot.) I'm Group B Strep negative, yay. (That saves me from having to get antibiotics in labor.) My symptoms are as normal as an extremely normal thing. The baby's heartbeat sounds strong and beautiful.
Then I sent Michael and Alex out of the room and told Kathy about the feelings I had after the hospital tour. She is not the touchy-feeliest of midwives, but she was great. She gently told me that it was entirely appropriate and reasonable and expected to still be grieving and to have negative feelings triggered by my upcoming birth. She thinks that laboring women focus intensely on labor, and that I am unlikely to have significant problems with D&C memories in labor, but she is ready to remind me that I am there to birth a baby. Also, she is fairly certain that if I call when I first notice labor signs they will be able to snag me the room where Alex was born, which not only has positive memories associated with it but is huge and couldn't be more different from the rooms I was in when I miscarried. She's going to tell the other midwives how I'm feeling, which is good.
She also told me, firmly, that the universe intends for me to have this baby, that this is the baby who is meant to be. I'm not sure how I feel about that as a theological position, so I will choose to focus on the part where we are positive that I am going to have this baby.
(no subject)
Jan. 19th, 2009 04:41 pmIn our big research study (not mine, but my boss's), there's a part of the study where we deliberately make the participants angry. It's a role play, and the instructions go something like this: "Pretend that I'm your landlord, and there's something around your place that needs to be repaired. You've left me messages and nothing has been done. Now you're going to run into me in person and discuss the problem. If this has happened to you in real life, you can use a real example - otherwise, I want you to make something up. But the important thing is to make it sound as real as possible."
Every participant has had this problem in real life. The housing problems they report are detailed and realistic. When we play our instigating role in the dialogue - and we are the most obnoxious landlords ever encountered; favorite lines include "It will get done when it gets done," "You need to watch your attitude - don't take that tone with me," and "Well, I don't know what you expect for the kind of rent you're paying" - they are well prepared to respond. More than half threaten to put their rent in escrow until the problem is fixed. They have been down this route, again and again.
Those role plays are on my mind today because we are having a heating problem. The front of the house has been heating just fine, but not the back; the final straw came yesterday when I went into the kitchen and the bottle of olive oil on the counter was congealed solid. To add insult to injury, the freezing cold in parts of the house comes alongside an outrageous $600 electric and gas bill for December. Michael went down to investigate the boiler and came back reporting that the pressure seemed oddly low.
Michael called the landlord this morning. And fifteen minutes later the landlord's handyman rang our doorbell. He adjusted our radiators and explained to me, at length, how the steam radiators we have now differ from the hot water radiators we had in the old house, and what the theory is behind their operation. (It turns out that steam radiators have a steam regulator as well as the little thingy that opens or closes the coils; we didn't know.) Then he went down to the basement and spent twenty minutes or so tinkering with the boiler, drawing off several buckets of muddy water which he said were preventing it from operating properly (and thereby raising our heating bill). He finished by promising that he would come back in the spring and do a full cleaning and servicing of the boiler.
When he left, I called Michael to report. And as soon as I got off the phone with Michael, our landlord called him to assure him that if the house isn't heating to our satisfaction by tomorrow morning he'll send in a full team.
The olive oil is still congealed, but we're going to wait and see what happens when the house cools off at night and then the heat cycles on in the morning.
Our landlord would totally fail as a role-play landlord. Damn, we're lucky. And privileged.
Every participant has had this problem in real life. The housing problems they report are detailed and realistic. When we play our instigating role in the dialogue - and we are the most obnoxious landlords ever encountered; favorite lines include "It will get done when it gets done," "You need to watch your attitude - don't take that tone with me," and "Well, I don't know what you expect for the kind of rent you're paying" - they are well prepared to respond. More than half threaten to put their rent in escrow until the problem is fixed. They have been down this route, again and again.
Those role plays are on my mind today because we are having a heating problem. The front of the house has been heating just fine, but not the back; the final straw came yesterday when I went into the kitchen and the bottle of olive oil on the counter was congealed solid. To add insult to injury, the freezing cold in parts of the house comes alongside an outrageous $600 electric and gas bill for December. Michael went down to investigate the boiler and came back reporting that the pressure seemed oddly low.
Michael called the landlord this morning. And fifteen minutes later the landlord's handyman rang our doorbell. He adjusted our radiators and explained to me, at length, how the steam radiators we have now differ from the hot water radiators we had in the old house, and what the theory is behind their operation. (It turns out that steam radiators have a steam regulator as well as the little thingy that opens or closes the coils; we didn't know.) Then he went down to the basement and spent twenty minutes or so tinkering with the boiler, drawing off several buckets of muddy water which he said were preventing it from operating properly (and thereby raising our heating bill). He finished by promising that he would come back in the spring and do a full cleaning and servicing of the boiler.
When he left, I called Michael to report. And as soon as I got off the phone with Michael, our landlord called him to assure him that if the house isn't heating to our satisfaction by tomorrow morning he'll send in a full team.
The olive oil is still congealed, but we're going to wait and see what happens when the house cools off at night and then the heat cycles on in the morning.
Our landlord would totally fail as a role-play landlord. Damn, we're lucky. And privileged.
(no subject)
Jan. 17th, 2009 10:13 amYes, Alex is definitely anxious about the Niblet's birth. ( Read more... )
Poor kid. I know how she feels - it is weird to know that labor could hit at any time, and that we don't know what will happen next. Honestly, I don't think there's a fix for this other than birth.
Poor kid. I know how she feels - it is weird to know that labor could hit at any time, and that we don't know what will happen next. Honestly, I don't think there's a fix for this other than birth.
(no subject)
Jan. 16th, 2009 01:59 pmI was going to make a post complaining about how cold it is here - it was 14 F when I took Alex to school this morning, and has subsequently warmed up to a balmy 16. Then I read through my friends page and saw how cold it is where most of you live. So never mind.
Although I must say: I have an excellent coat for weather like this. It is the thigh-length parka I bought when I lived in Iowa. It is wool-lined and Polartec-filled and Gortex-topped, and the hood snaps across the lower face so that only the eyes are exposed.
There is no way in hell that it would zip over my belly.
I suppose I should be counting my blessings. It's fortunate that my standard winter coat (ankle-length double-breasted wool, although it only buttons down to the midriff) does close over my belly. It's fortunate that I have maternity tights I can wear under my slacks for additional warmth. And even more fortunately? The portable electric heater I bought for my office arrived earlier this week. Just in time.
Although I must say: I have an excellent coat for weather like this. It is the thigh-length parka I bought when I lived in Iowa. It is wool-lined and Polartec-filled and Gortex-topped, and the hood snaps across the lower face so that only the eyes are exposed.
There is no way in hell that it would zip over my belly.
I suppose I should be counting my blessings. It's fortunate that my standard winter coat (ankle-length double-breasted wool, although it only buttons down to the midriff) does close over my belly. It's fortunate that I have maternity tights I can wear under my slacks for additional warmth. And even more fortunately? The portable electric heater I bought for my office arrived earlier this week. Just in time.
There goes your image of me...
Jan. 15th, 2009 10:13 pmI made Jello tonight. For the first time in my life.
It's not the Jello of my youth, because it's lacking in canned "fruit cocktail." (My mother was a serious cook, and therefore never employed mini marshmallows.) It does have canned pears and banana slices, though.
It would never have occurred to me to make Jello, except that Alex suggested that she could bring some to school to share with the friends on her birthday. When I expressed surprise, she and Michael both informed me that they like Jello. I never knew. So we bought some, and then Michael got sick and it seemed that it would be a kindness to make something that would slip easily down his sore throat.
So, Jello. In our fridge. But I swear I draw the line well before Chef Boy-Ar-Dee canned ravioli.
It's not the Jello of my youth, because it's lacking in canned "fruit cocktail." (My mother was a serious cook, and therefore never employed mini marshmallows.) It does have canned pears and banana slices, though.
It would never have occurred to me to make Jello, except that Alex suggested that she could bring some to school to share with the friends on her birthday. When I expressed surprise, she and Michael both informed me that they like Jello. I never knew. So we bought some, and then Michael got sick and it seemed that it would be a kindness to make something that would slip easily down his sore throat.
So, Jello. In our fridge. But I swear I draw the line well before Chef Boy-Ar-Dee canned ravioli.
Another thing.
Jan. 14th, 2009 10:55 pmI was already feeling fragile this evening before I discovered that someone had hacked Respectful of Otters.
Michael and I took the hospital L&D tour this evening. We were just there on Saturday afternoon for Alex's tour, but I guess that I was focused singlemindedly enough on her experience, or the surrounding details were different enough, that it didn't hit me the wrong way.
Tonight it did.
We were in a group of six or so glowing beaming hopeful expectant couples. A childbirth educator led us onto the L&D floor. Just across the hall from the nurses' station was the little registration room. I glanced in as we walked by, just for a second, and there was a woman sitting in the patient's chair, crying. Hand up to her face. Nonswollen belly.
This time last year Ithought I was eleven weeks pregnant. I had just had my first midwife visit, at which everything looked great. I had told Alex that I was pregnant, and the two of us were looking at pictures in pregnancy magazines together. Two weeks afterward I was sitting hunched over my nonswollen belly in that same registration room, crying, having discovered that what I thought was a baby was just a bloody mess of misdirected cells. Getting ready for emergency surgery.
Everything brought it back. The brief glimpse of the crying woman. Standing at the window of an L&D room looking out at the gorgeous 16th-story view of the city by night. The childbirth educator mentioning the two operating rooms on the floor and the 24-hour anesthesiologist. Asking her about triage, did we have to go through triage, realizing only in retrospect that the reason the idea filled me with such dread was that I'd spent a good long time in triage before my D&C. Remembering how I had felt hearing the heartbeat of a laboring woman's live baby on the monitor, on the other side of the curtain, before I got my headphones on.
My due date is a week to ten days after the anniversary date of my D&C. I don't know if I will be thinking these thoughts, having these memories, when I go to the hospital for the birth. Maybe I'll be too focused on labor, too focused on my imminent baby. Maybe it will help that I've already freaked myself out now with the vivid memories that are apparently still locked on to that place. Maybe it will help to be prepared next time, because I swear that for some reason it never occurred to me that it would be hard to go back to L&D, because apparently it's not like I'm a psychologist or a reasonably insightful person or anything.
Maybe I should discuss this with my midwife and doula, but it's hard to think of what to ask for that would be helpful.
Michael and I took the hospital L&D tour this evening. We were just there on Saturday afternoon for Alex's tour, but I guess that I was focused singlemindedly enough on her experience, or the surrounding details were different enough, that it didn't hit me the wrong way.
Tonight it did.
We were in a group of six or so glowing beaming hopeful expectant couples. A childbirth educator led us onto the L&D floor. Just across the hall from the nurses' station was the little registration room. I glanced in as we walked by, just for a second, and there was a woman sitting in the patient's chair, crying. Hand up to her face. Nonswollen belly.
This time last year I
Everything brought it back. The brief glimpse of the crying woman. Standing at the window of an L&D room looking out at the gorgeous 16th-story view of the city by night. The childbirth educator mentioning the two operating rooms on the floor and the 24-hour anesthesiologist. Asking her about triage, did we have to go through triage, realizing only in retrospect that the reason the idea filled me with such dread was that I'd spent a good long time in triage before my D&C. Remembering how I had felt hearing the heartbeat of a laboring woman's live baby on the monitor, on the other side of the curtain, before I got my headphones on.
My due date is a week to ten days after the anniversary date of my D&C. I don't know if I will be thinking these thoughts, having these memories, when I go to the hospital for the birth. Maybe I'll be too focused on labor, too focused on my imminent baby. Maybe it will help that I've already freaked myself out now with the vivid memories that are apparently still locked on to that place. Maybe it will help to be prepared next time, because I swear that for some reason it never occurred to me that it would be hard to go back to L&D, because apparently it's not like I'm a psychologist or a reasonably insightful person or anything.
Maybe I should discuss this with my midwife and doula, but it's hard to think of what to ask for that would be helpful.
Someone has hacked my old blog and, apparently, taken it over.
They posted something today. It's about HIV, but it's not written by me. They have edited the page to take down some of my information - like the e-mail contact I was using - and they've added some random links to the bottom that make me wonder if they're planning to turn the blog into a link farm. They've also removed the Haloscan comments, unless those disappeared for some unrelated reason.
I don't know how to log into the blog anymore - Blogger's interface has changed enough times that I don't seem to have the capability to access the Dashboard anymore. And whoever did this probably reset the e-mail account and everything in any case. That's what I would have done.
What do I do?
They posted something today. It's about HIV, but it's not written by me. They have edited the page to take down some of my information - like the e-mail contact I was using - and they've added some random links to the bottom that make me wonder if they're planning to turn the blog into a link farm. They've also removed the Haloscan comments, unless those disappeared for some unrelated reason.
I don't know how to log into the blog anymore - Blogger's interface has changed enough times that I don't seem to have the capability to access the Dashboard anymore. And whoever did this probably reset the e-mail account and everything in any case. That's what I would have done.
What do I do?
Hypochondriacal preschooler report.
Jan. 12th, 2009 12:30 pmThis morning's excuse: "I'm too sick to go to school because my heart is pumping my blood in the wrong direction."
I offered to take her straight to the hospital. She declined.
I offered to take her straight to the hospital. She declined.
Quick midwife report.
Jan. 12th, 2009 12:29 pmFor some reason, my midwives think my due date is two days later than I thought it was. So here I was all proud of being in the 36th week, and instead I am only 35w5d. You can stop feeling sorry for my unbelievably bulbous self now, because apparently I'm not that pregnant. ( Read more... )
Good day today.
Jan. 10th, 2009 10:02 pmThis afternoon we went to visit some good friends who just had a baby two weeks ago. And... whoa. I had honestly forgotten that they start out so small. I really had. He's not a shrimp of a baby, comparatively - he's up to eight pounds now - but holy cow, he is tiny. Was Alex really ever that small? Is Niblet really going to be that small? I just... I just forgot.
(I was putting away baby clothes the other day and found myself wondering whether the 3-6mo onesies had shrunk in the wash. Because surely he won't be that small after actual months have passed, right? Right? ...Needless to say, they hadn't shrunk.)
It was wonderful to see and hold the baby. I got to snuggle him for a long time while he was sleeping. Alex got to pet him and hold him and help burp him. But it was when Michael took him and soothed him after a feed, cradling and rocking and bouncing and murmuring to him - that's when my overloaded pregnancy hormones hit hard and I got a bit teary. For me, especially now, I think there is very little that's as attractive as a man who is a good father.
After visiting our friends, we had a wonderful late lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant we'd never been to before. Alex proved that it is actually possible to make a meal of plain unseasoned rice noodles in a rice-paper wrapper; Michael and I ate things that had actual flavor. Among other things, we ordered a dish that came as a platter of separate items: the aforementioned rice noodles, crispy seasoned strips of pork, pickled vegetables, plain raw vegetables, lemongrass sauce, and rice paper wrappers. You wrapped your choice of ingredients into a sort of a burrito. It was YUM. I haven't had Vietnamese food in too long.
Then we went to Daedalus Books & Music, a discount bookstore, and spent a fair amount of time and money. After we'd already checked out, I noticed that they had big laminated maps packaged at 3/$10: a U.S. map, a world map, and what turned out to be sort of a lame third map that shows flags of the world on one side and flags of the U.S. on the other. We couldn't resist them.
So this evening I've been collecting pictures of our various family members, and book covers of books we've read that have definite settings (most children's books don't, of course), and pictures of places we've been together like SUUSI and Montreal and Williamsburg, and a few extra pictures like our house and the sphinx (Alex is fascinated for some reason) and the Obama family. I'm going to print them all out as small images and cut them out, and then we'll fasten them to the maps.
Alex has started to show some interest in geography lately, but of course concepts like the vast size of the world and where places are in relation to each other are pretty hard to understand when you're three. I think this will help start to sort it out in her mind. And I like that this is a project we can keep adding on to when the spirit moves us, but it's not something where we would feel bad if it never progressed any further. However far it goes, it will be fun.
(I was putting away baby clothes the other day and found myself wondering whether the 3-6mo onesies had shrunk in the wash. Because surely he won't be that small after actual months have passed, right? Right? ...Needless to say, they hadn't shrunk.)
It was wonderful to see and hold the baby. I got to snuggle him for a long time while he was sleeping. Alex got to pet him and hold him and help burp him. But it was when Michael took him and soothed him after a feed, cradling and rocking and bouncing and murmuring to him - that's when my overloaded pregnancy hormones hit hard and I got a bit teary. For me, especially now, I think there is very little that's as attractive as a man who is a good father.
After visiting our friends, we had a wonderful late lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant we'd never been to before. Alex proved that it is actually possible to make a meal of plain unseasoned rice noodles in a rice-paper wrapper; Michael and I ate things that had actual flavor. Among other things, we ordered a dish that came as a platter of separate items: the aforementioned rice noodles, crispy seasoned strips of pork, pickled vegetables, plain raw vegetables, lemongrass sauce, and rice paper wrappers. You wrapped your choice of ingredients into a sort of a burrito. It was YUM. I haven't had Vietnamese food in too long.
Then we went to Daedalus Books & Music, a discount bookstore, and spent a fair amount of time and money. After we'd already checked out, I noticed that they had big laminated maps packaged at 3/$10: a U.S. map, a world map, and what turned out to be sort of a lame third map that shows flags of the world on one side and flags of the U.S. on the other. We couldn't resist them.
So this evening I've been collecting pictures of our various family members, and book covers of books we've read that have definite settings (most children's books don't, of course), and pictures of places we've been together like SUUSI and Montreal and Williamsburg, and a few extra pictures like our house and the sphinx (Alex is fascinated for some reason) and the Obama family. I'm going to print them all out as small images and cut them out, and then we'll fasten them to the maps.
Alex has started to show some interest in geography lately, but of course concepts like the vast size of the world and where places are in relation to each other are pretty hard to understand when you're three. I think this will help start to sort it out in her mind. And I like that this is a project we can keep adding on to when the spirit moves us, but it's not something where we would feel bad if it never progressed any further. However far it goes, it will be fun.
In economic news today...
Jan. 10th, 2009 05:23 pmAt a press conference in Washington today, President-elect Barack Obama repeatedly refused to answer questions about the size of his package, calling the subject "a personal matter."
Again and again, reporters attempted to get Mr. Obama to tell them exactly how big his package was, but the President-elect was steadfast in his refusal to quantify it.
"If I tell you the size of my package, some of you will think that it sounds too small, " he said. "And others will be uncomfortable with how big it is."
The President-elect seemed to indicate, however, that the size of his package may vary according to the circumstances.
"Depending on what is going on, my package could grow significantly larger," he said. "It all comes down to the amount of stimulus."
(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2009 11:04 amAlex has been complaining a lot about illness. "I'm sick. I don't feeeeeel good." It's been going on for a few weeks now.
She was actually sick, before Christmas. She doesn't seem to be sick now. She has the occasional sniffle or cough that just seems to go along with winter, but she's displaying no actual symptoms - no fever, no worrying change in her eating or sleeping habits, no changes in her appearance, no apparent activity limitations. Just complaints. When we ask her what hurts: "My whole body hurts." "Everything hurts." Even, she will insist if we ask more detailed questions, her toenails and her eyelashes. Every part. We've started asking "What do you think would make you feel better?" Sometimes she asks for medicine. Usually she doesn't know.
For a while it seemed like it was related to things she didn't want to do, or things she did want to do. "I can't put away my game because I'm siiiiick" and "I need to watch another video because I don't feeeeel good" are pretty easy to interpret and respond to. Or boredom-related "sickness" in the car. But more recently it's been different. Every morning this week, as soon as I mention school: "I don't feel good. I need to stay home." I will usually tell her, cheerfully, that we'll see how she feels once she gets to school. She's started asking: "WHY are you making me go to school when I'm SO, SO SICK?!"
She still doesn't seem to be legitimately sick at all.
I spent some time this morning talking with her about school. Why doesn't she like to go to school all of a sudden? Because she doesn't feel good, she told me. Is anything happening at school that she doesn't like - anyone being mean to her, any problems, anything scary? No, she said. Nothing is wrong at school, she just doesn't want to go anymore because she doesn't feel good.
This morning at dropoff, I spoke to her teacher for a while. The teacher confirms that nothing overt appears to be going wrong for Alex - no friend issues or anything like that. She will play happily for a while at school, and then come over and tell a teacher that she doesn't feel good and that she needs her mommy. The teachers have been treating this as a plea for attention. They offer her the opportunity to sit or lie down and rest when she says she doesn't feel good, but haven't been calling us or taking her temperature or anything.
I think that what may be wrong is anxiety. I think that my questions about problems at school were off-base, and that rather than worrying about school she may be worrying about separating from me. After all, that's the other thing that happens at going-to-school time. And anxiety certainly makes your whole body feel bad.
She knows that Niblet's arrival is imminent, and that I'm going to go into labor and go to the hospital and have the baby. She knows we've been making plans for who will take care of her. I'm pretty sure that she knows that it could happen at any time and we don't know when to expect it or when things will change. That's probably pretty anxiety-provoking. Also, I've started being too pregnant to do certain things: I can't sit in the back seat of the car to keep her company, I can't bathe her, I can't play active games. That might be anxiety-provoking in itself, if she's worrying about how much I love her or how much I'll be there for her.
I think this is a reasonable working hypothesis for what's happening now.
The sibling prep books we've read have focused on having a baby at home, not on the anxious weeks of knowing that major life changes could happen any moment. We're going to have a sibling's hospital tour and meet with a nurse for a while on Sunday, and I guess that could go either way - it could make her more anxious, or less.
My tentative plan: I'm going to tell her that I spent a lot of time thinking and reading about what might be making her feel bad, and that I think she has a sickness called anxiety. I'll explain that anxiety can be treated using exercises, kind of like Dad's physical therapy, and I'll try teaching her progressive muscle relaxation using some kind of PMR script for children. I'll try waking her up a little earlier so that we have time to do a PMR exercise before school.
Separately from that, I will try asking her whether she worries about leaving me or being gone from me all day, and whether she worries about what will happen when the baby is ready to come. I don't know if I'm going to get anywhere with questions like that, though. This is where you'd think that being a psychologist would help, but it doesn't, because I mostly was trained to work with adults and I have zero experience with interventions or techniques for kids this young.
I would appreciate any advice or theories that people have - especially people with lots of young-child experience, like![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mactavish, and people with new-sibling-prep experience. Also, if you have any alternative hypotheses about what might be causing these illness complaints, I'd be interested to hear them.
She was actually sick, before Christmas. She doesn't seem to be sick now. She has the occasional sniffle or cough that just seems to go along with winter, but she's displaying no actual symptoms - no fever, no worrying change in her eating or sleeping habits, no changes in her appearance, no apparent activity limitations. Just complaints. When we ask her what hurts: "My whole body hurts." "Everything hurts." Even, she will insist if we ask more detailed questions, her toenails and her eyelashes. Every part. We've started asking "What do you think would make you feel better?" Sometimes she asks for medicine. Usually she doesn't know.
For a while it seemed like it was related to things she didn't want to do, or things she did want to do. "I can't put away my game because I'm siiiiick" and "I need to watch another video because I don't feeeeel good" are pretty easy to interpret and respond to. Or boredom-related "sickness" in the car. But more recently it's been different. Every morning this week, as soon as I mention school: "I don't feel good. I need to stay home." I will usually tell her, cheerfully, that we'll see how she feels once she gets to school. She's started asking: "WHY are you making me go to school when I'm SO, SO SICK?!"
She still doesn't seem to be legitimately sick at all.
I spent some time this morning talking with her about school. Why doesn't she like to go to school all of a sudden? Because she doesn't feel good, she told me. Is anything happening at school that she doesn't like - anyone being mean to her, any problems, anything scary? No, she said. Nothing is wrong at school, she just doesn't want to go anymore because she doesn't feel good.
This morning at dropoff, I spoke to her teacher for a while. The teacher confirms that nothing overt appears to be going wrong for Alex - no friend issues or anything like that. She will play happily for a while at school, and then come over and tell a teacher that she doesn't feel good and that she needs her mommy. The teachers have been treating this as a plea for attention. They offer her the opportunity to sit or lie down and rest when she says she doesn't feel good, but haven't been calling us or taking her temperature or anything.
I think that what may be wrong is anxiety. I think that my questions about problems at school were off-base, and that rather than worrying about school she may be worrying about separating from me. After all, that's the other thing that happens at going-to-school time. And anxiety certainly makes your whole body feel bad.
She knows that Niblet's arrival is imminent, and that I'm going to go into labor and go to the hospital and have the baby. She knows we've been making plans for who will take care of her. I'm pretty sure that she knows that it could happen at any time and we don't know when to expect it or when things will change. That's probably pretty anxiety-provoking. Also, I've started being too pregnant to do certain things: I can't sit in the back seat of the car to keep her company, I can't bathe her, I can't play active games. That might be anxiety-provoking in itself, if she's worrying about how much I love her or how much I'll be there for her.
I think this is a reasonable working hypothesis for what's happening now.
The sibling prep books we've read have focused on having a baby at home, not on the anxious weeks of knowing that major life changes could happen any moment. We're going to have a sibling's hospital tour and meet with a nurse for a while on Sunday, and I guess that could go either way - it could make her more anxious, or less.
My tentative plan: I'm going to tell her that I spent a lot of time thinking and reading about what might be making her feel bad, and that I think she has a sickness called anxiety. I'll explain that anxiety can be treated using exercises, kind of like Dad's physical therapy, and I'll try teaching her progressive muscle relaxation using some kind of PMR script for children. I'll try waking her up a little earlier so that we have time to do a PMR exercise before school.
Separately from that, I will try asking her whether she worries about leaving me or being gone from me all day, and whether she worries about what will happen when the baby is ready to come. I don't know if I'm going to get anywhere with questions like that, though. This is where you'd think that being a psychologist would help, but it doesn't, because I mostly was trained to work with adults and I have zero experience with interventions or techniques for kids this young.
I would appreciate any advice or theories that people have - especially people with lots of young-child experience, like
mactavish, and people with new-sibling-prep experience. Also, if you have any alternative hypotheses about what might be causing these illness complaints, I'd be interested to hear them.Obligatory weird pregnancy dream.
Jan. 8th, 2009 10:04 amI dreamed that I had twins, horrible tiny things like plastic dolls. I couldn't remember whether I was supposed to keep them underwater or not. I kept trying to fill their aquarium, which was like a baby carrier with fold-up sides that had to be adjusted with straps and buckles, so the water kept running out. I thought, "Shit! Their mouths aren't underwater! They can't breathe!" ...and then I wouldn't be sure. Were their mouths supposed to be underwater, or not underwater?
The good thing about weird pregnancy dreams is that, no matter what I do in real life, I will never be as awful a mother as I am in my dreams.
The good thing about weird pregnancy dreams is that, no matter what I do in real life, I will never be as awful a mother as I am in my dreams.
(no subject)
Jan. 7th, 2009 07:52 pmSince about three this afternoon, my entire being has been focused on one thought: I HATE EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IN THE WHOLE WORLD.
The grant, at least, is in. But our attempts to procure a dinner that I did not have to cook resulted in such epic, incredible fail that I have given up. Alex has been fed, and that's the best I can do. I think I'll go to bed when she does.
The grant, at least, is in. But our attempts to procure a dinner that I did not have to cook resulted in such epic, incredible fail that I have given up. Alex has been fed, and that's the best I can do. I think I'll go to bed when she does.
Well, that was a fun civic experience.
Jan. 6th, 2009 08:06 pmI am free from jury duty for another year.
In contrast to Michael's jury duty experience, in which he sat in the juror's waiting room all day long and was never asked to stir, I went to jury selection for two trials. ( Read more... )
It's a shame that my jury service came at this particular time, because I would actually be happy to serve on a jury. I think it would be interesting, and I also think it's my civic responsibility. But not the day a grant is due. And not when a baby is grinding his head against my cervix on a regular basis.
Well. I'll have other opportunities.
In contrast to Michael's jury duty experience, in which he sat in the juror's waiting room all day long and was never asked to stir, I went to jury selection for two trials. ( Read more... )
It's a shame that my jury service came at this particular time, because I would actually be happy to serve on a jury. I think it would be interesting, and I also think it's my civic responsibility. But not the day a grant is due. And not when a baby is grinding his head against my cervix on a regular basis.
Well. I'll have other opportunities.
More jury duty.
Jan. 6th, 2009 03:15 pmI am bored. It's hard to focus on work in the jury waiting room. The work e-mail site is still down. They haven't called a jury panel in the last hour; I don't know if I'll even be called again. But I'm stuck here until they let us go home.
Say something entertaining?
Say something entertaining?
