Anybody else find the news very end of days lately? The unemployment all over the world, the insanity in the middle east with suicide bombers and so much violence everywhere it seems. Traumatic brain injuries are up in children in Southwestern PA, experts think it's due to the economy and stressed parents taking out their stress on their children which makes me so sad. I switched to CNN whilst (I'm such an anglophile) on the elliptical yesterday and saw all the concern about swine flu and a possible global pandemic. The website doesn't show it but CNN has already come up with a swine flu graphic (comprised of sliced together pictures of a pig next to a medical symbol) that is quite humorous. There'd be more than a little irony, what with our country's conspicuous consumption on so many levels, if swine flu is the next pandemic. Oink! I would hate to die from swine flu, it's seems horribly vain but I'd hate to die from anything embarrassing and this is completely insipid on my part but doesn't it sound worse to say death from swine flu as opposed to avian flu. Not that I have anything against pigs, they're supposed to be really smart animals and I love crispy bacon. My God I think the citristrip fumes I inhaled for five hours, even though I was outside, while stripping a buffet (will post when it's done, I got it for $29.99 solid wood with lovely legs) has affected my intelligence. Good night and good oink.

Can I just complain about still needing to wear my winter coat. Granted I'm the type of person who's almost always cold but still... I can't wait for this weekend when it's supposed to be in the 80s. How I long for my skin to be warmed by the sun.

I am having to rethink my nursing school plans since Duquesne offers very little in the way of scholarship money for second degree students and I can't take out ungodly amounts of aid that I'll have to pay back on a nursing salary, it just doesn't seem wise when there are hospital nursing programs that will pay your tuition. Soo I'm scrambling to apply to two hospital schools at the last minute with all the chaos that entails; getting transcripts mailed (including my high school one, even though I graduated 22 years ago!), groveling for references, taking pre-admission tests, getting flooded with 'will I get in?' anxiety once again. Aghhh, and then I've got to find some sort of nurse's aide job for extra money (all of $9 an hour) when I used to make $40 an hour freelancing. Thank God I live in America's most livable city, where my mortgage is CHEAP and I could actually get by on $9 an hour. Seriously, if I was facing all this in New York or Boston I would have had my breakdown by now. The picture has nothing to do with the post, it's just Oona's demonstration of 'tiny clap'.

what was i thinking

I was very busy this Easter weekend. I spent friday evening and all day saturday, like until 8:30 at night, much to the annoyance of my neighbors, gutting our downstairs bathroom. This all started innocently enough back in the fall when the drywall ceiling was falling due to previous water damage. I couldn't stand to look at it and tore the dry wall down one inspired (or insane) afternoon to find that the previous water damage had removed a good portion of the ceiling's plaster as well as damaging the lathe underneath the tub. Soooo I put up plastic bags with duct tape and a staple gun and figured I'd tackle the project later (these first 3 pictures document my fall venture).




Well, March rolls around and I had two contractors come in order to get estimates on various repairs around the house. Both said the plaster and lathe would need to be torn down so that the joists could be examined to make sure they were alright. Visions of the tub landing on my head while on the toilet floated through my head. So Toby picked up the kids on Good Friday and I figured that gave me two whole days to tackle the project. The remnants of the ceiling came down easily enough BUT then I noticed termite damage on one wall, which I tore down, first dry wall then the plaster and finally the lathe. Long story short all four walls had termite damage (the drywall and window moldings/baseboards and one section of lathe). Fortunately all the studs miraculously escaped termite damage. So now I have a dumpster's worth of plaster and lathe in our garage, which I hauled out of the bathroom by filling kitter litter bins full of plaster and lathe and then dumping the bin into Owen & Oona's wagon in the narrow alley between our house and the neighbors and then I'd wheel it to the garage. I didn't want to track this through the house due to the mess factor.





I still have some black soot coming out through two heating registers that access the vent that I removed plaster and wire mesh off of (I thought taking down plaster and lathe was hard, that wire mesh was near impossible). There's a blocked off doorway to the kitchen that makes me think part of this room was originally a pantry. I still have to gut the narrow hallway between this former bathroom and the basement. I'm thinking of opening the whole thing up and redoing the pantry, which would then lead to me needing to gut and renovate the kitchen, which I would love to do but for the lack of funds.




This last picture is my battered arms, fortunately I got a tetanus booster when I saw a doctor last month because I scraped alongside a lot of rusty metal and I had a very large protruding nail gouge me in the ass when I came off the ladder to quickly. Can I tell you, I never knew that my hands, specifically my palms, could ache so much. And I went through two respirator filters making sure I didn't inhale the lead dust and 100 plus years of crap behind those plaster walls. I still felt goofy at the end of it but I think that's just because I exhausted myself. So God knows when I'll get around to completing this project. Does anyone know if it's really difficult to hang drywall?

spring has sprung

I hope that everyone enjoyed their easter/passover/spring break. The kids enjoyed Easter, although Owen did pout and whine a little bit today when he asked if we could get the card game Uno and I didn't drop everything and run to a store to purchase it. My kids are spoiled, like why they should be expecting presents for Easter is beyond me, they think it's like a second Christmas. Any religion attached to the holiday has been lost with the consumerism, entirely my fault. I try to explain the religious reasons for the holidays but I don't think I do the best job. I tend to over explain and neglect to tone it down for the kids but then I've heard about some churches doing the passion with the easter bunny to get the point across for children which just seems wrong on so many levels.

Anyhoo, the kids had a good time and I was rewarded with belgian chocolate by a friend of Toby's who's visiting. I got two milk chocolate bars and two dark chocolate bars and as of 6:30 tonight they are gone. My God, my way of coping with stress is to dichotomize myself when it comes to eating, meaning I either eat very little extremely healthy stuff or batten down the hatches I'm like somone with prader willi syndrome. I don't mean to make fun of that syndrome it's just once I start eating it's like I can't stop. Having had an eating disorder before I know stress makes me revert to disordered eating habits. I just can't gain any more weight because I'm serious when I say that none of my new clothes (that I got for a song at the Gap) will fit the stressed binging (but not purging) me.

Like this last photo? I know you've heard about the ghost of Christmas past but probably not the ghost of Easter present? That's Oona who prefers to have her shirt of most of the time, when she's topless with her black leggings she's like a toddler Iggy Pop. She is the sybarite of the family, only the best for her. She loves pleasing her senses, all the time, with abandon. The girl is pure Id. I'm sort of in awe of her powers, believe the girl has power. All the boys in her pre-k talk about Oona and she's one of the younger kids and usually bosses them around - could she have a future as a dominatrix? I'm just amazed at her confidence. She's a very loving girl, Owen was sick last night from eating too much candy and she was like a tyke sized Florence Nightingale, but she won't sacrifice her needs for another's. Owen's more like me. I told a friend he's the daughter I always wanted, which sounds horrible, but whenever I thought of having a child I'd imagine a nice little girl who read a lot and was a people pleaser and that's my Owen. The poor kid is also burdened with an overwhelming superego. At least now I have a partner in whining, my Owen.

Deadly ambush in Stanton Heights claims the lives of 3 city police officers

What happened here in Pittsburgh on Saturday was dumbfounding to me. Stanton Heights is right next to Morningside, the neighborhood I live in. I drive past the street where these 3 police officers were killed every day on my way to pick up Oona from pre-k. I heard some ding dong at the care center where my Grandma lives say 'well you know that's inner city Pittsburgh for you.' but that statement is ridiculous! Stanton Heights has nice homes with well maintained lawns. Many police officers and firemen live in that neighborhood and Morningside. I had no idea what happened until I got to the gym and saw it on the news, although I was wondering why there were so many helicopters hovering on the hill up the street from me when I was getting into my car. Then I was listening to the news at the gym and one thing that pissed me off was an interview with the killer's best friend. The guy starts talking about how, like myself, my friend was against the zionist movement blah blah blah and I'm thinking, why aren't they cutting the camera from this guy? Maybe this is a huge generalization but whenever I hear 'against zionist movement' I tend to think white supremist and there's no need to televise this guy preaching his racist agenda when three men lost their lives.

This will seem like a stretch but I think about the girl who went postal on me in the car accident and this shooting and every day I see people who are so angry and it really saddens me. This is a very stressful, scary time for our country but all the anger, it winds up being misplaced and then people lash out at strangers. Before my car accident a woman, I use the term euphemisitically, shouted at me 'you fucking bitch' because I had the right of way and went straight thru an intersection while she needed to turn left. But it wasn't like I raced through when the light was yellow, that would be bitchy. The light was still green, she had to wait two seconds for me to pass and then she was able to turn. Meanwhile she has a three year old in the front seat, without a seat belt, let alone a car seat, and the child is standing on the seat looking out the back window. People get in cars and forget their manners. With my car accident my Mom thought I should have yelled right back at the lady but I'm like 'What would that solve? I'd just wind up feeling worse because I was as petty as she was.' and she's like 'you're right.' It's not worth it. My God, and on Marty Griffin (talk radio that me and every Pittsburgh senior citizen listen to) he was interviewing a gun shop owner who said since Obama took office it's been crazy the sales he's had, that people are stockpiling weapons and ammunition because they're scared about the administration clamping down on gun laws. What the fuck?! This paranoia, it's gonna be the downfall of us. I'm agnostic but even I know that it's best to love thy neighbor. Follow the golden rule, treat people the way you want to be treated. I'm incredibly shy but it's amazing what a difference it makes when you're kind, make small talk and smile.

house without kutner is not a home

Last night I shuffled the kids off to bed before 8 so I could sit down and watch House, which is one of my favorite tv shows. I love House and especially like his relationship with Wilson. I don't really care for the new residents working with House aside from Kutner, whom I loved, and I thought Kal Penn portrayed him perfectly. When they killed him off with a suicide last night I was ready to protest such a seemingly half-assed out of nowhere plot twist. How could they get rid of Kutner, he was a lovable goofball but usually the resident most likely to solve the case and his character was the ethical one. BUT after listening to NPR this afternoon I learned that he had to leave the show because of his new appointment as arts liaison for the White House. He's smart, creative and politically active. How adorable is he? And he looks so friendly with his sweet little smile. If I was 10 to 15 years younger I'd be swooning, as it is the Mom in me wants to pinch his cheeks and give him a hug for a job well done.

Among the things that baffle me as a mom. Why children protest so much about naps, if only someone would insist that I take a nap every day. Also why they refuse to go the bathroom, my son's nickname should be the camel for how long he'll hold off before going the bathroom. My kids are also incredibly picky with food at mealtimes but I only have myself to blame for that, I'm not a good example for three well balanced meals. In fact Owen used to tease me about my soda addiction, almost as if I was an boozehound, he'd tell his teachers how I was addicted to Coke, fortunately I got no call from a social worker about this. But this is one of the more baffling thing to me. How children will position themselves while doing things. Tell me how in the world balancing your body on a couch and table like this while watching tv can be comfortable? There's just no way.

Owen told me something priceless at bathtime tonight. I was patting him dry and poked his tummy, he's got abs that Toby & I both envy for how lean and strong he is, when he lifted his arm up and told me to feel his muscle. I touched his slender bicep, wrapping my hands around it until thumb and index finger touch. He said 'I'm getting really strong because I've been exercising. In girltown today (he went over to his friend's house and her room, which she shares with her sister, is called girltown, which is priceless in itself) I picked up a five pound weight' he says incredulous. 'With one hand! And raised it over my head!' I whistled amazed at this tale 'Wow, you're quite strong Owen.' 'Yeah, imagine if I found a ten pound wieght.' Imagine.

19th nervous breakdown

I think I'm ready for one. All the thoughts in my head, it's like those vats for lotteries where all the different balls are bouncing around and off of one another. I swear sometimes I'm convinced that I'm losing it. But, I know I'm not, I'm just under a mountain of stress. Toby and I are separating. He's moving out April 1st, the irony and bittersweet humor of it being April fool's day is not lost on me. I don't want to say much more about this other than the obvious, it's an incredibly difficult time and decision but one that I hope will make everyone happier in the long run. So far the kids are taking it well but I think the whole concept is still abstract for them, once they're going back and forth between our homes things might be harder, but Toby and I are together on making the transition as smooth as possible for them. Toby and Owen went out to Ikea yesterday and he mentioned that Owen was wondering how we came to the decision to separate, specifically he wanted to know if we thumb-wrestled or did rock, paper, scissors in order to decide. It just makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time. That's all I'll be revealing of our separation, it's odd to write about it on this blog. I just felt like if I kept skirting around the issue it would become the proverbial elephant in the room (or blog in this virtual case).

Friday morning was a foggy one, and I love foggy days. The lovely mystery about them, it makes me feel like I'm in a Sherlock Holmes novel. But running out the front door I noticed the plastic bag hanging in my nieghbor's tree and it just flattened my initially happy mood. Just another sign that I'd like to live where it's quieter and the trees are bag-free. I dropped the kids off at their respsective schools, went to Statistics and was driving back home to go over my Statistics homework. The fog had burned off,it was sunny and I was getting on to route 28 without any problem, which is rather remarkable given that it's a dodgy entrance to navigate, plus there's construction going on now which makes it that much worse. But I had my signal on, I got in the first lane, kept my signal on, checked my rearview mirror and looked out my window before getting into the left lane when two seconds later I feel my car grinding against something and bounced back into the right lane. Oh no. It was another car. There is no shoulder on the road for, well there's no shoulder at all on our side, just bridges, three of them. The other driver pull across traffic to a dirt shoulder on the far side of the road. I've put my left signal on and am trying to cross the three lanes of traffic in spite of the clearly posted 'no turns' sign in front of me. My heart is in my throat to begin with when I see the lady get out of her car and immediately start dropping the f-bomb while looking over at me. At this point, for a split second, I'm thinking 'do I really have to go over there?' But of course I do, she's looking like she's about to cry while gesturing with her hands to the streak marks along her black Range Rover's door. Oh God, I'm not a hit and run person, I'm not a deserter. Soo I make my way over to the dirt shoulder and am routing through my glove compartment for my insurance information which I'm having trouble doing because my hands are shaking, this lady is pissed and I'm trying to call my insurance company at the same time because I'm thinking that's what I'm supposed to do right? She walks over to my car and I lower the window and she's chomping at me 'I hope that you're calling the cops to let them know that you almost killed me!' I just lose my breath at that, I thought it was bad enough her saying effing this and that while I was still on the road. 'no' I manage, take a deep breath, then 'Honestly, I don't think it was my fault. I had my signal on.' 'You drove right into my lane! You're being difficult. I'm calling the cops!' and she storms off to leave me sitting there stunned while someone from roadside assistance comes on the phone to inform me that I don't want to speak to them but rather the claims department. I hang up and I'm just sort of blown away, in this fugue state where I'm thinking 'why is this lady so mad at me?' it was an accident. What did I do wrong? I had my signal on, I looked out my window to make sure no one was behind me. Either she was in my blind spot or she was driving too fast, probably both, because that part of route 28 is where you're supposed to drive 35 mph but most people drive 55. She struts back over to get my insurance information and I write down all her information in a script that will be hard to decipher later, but I'm in panic mode. She tells me that she's leaving and I ask 'But aren't the cops coming?' 'Look at my nice car.' she says 'I have a job. I can't wait.' this whole interaction is getting more and more confusing to me. Is she trying to be snobby and insinuate I'm some deadbeat without a job? I'm driving a Ford Freestyle, not a Range Rover, but it is a year newer than her car, and even if I was driving a '78 El Camino what is the point in saying something like that. 'Listen' I say, 'I'm sorry. I honestly did not see you. I looked out my window.' She just mutters something and goes back to her car. I call 911 because I'm thinking surely I'm supposed to report this to the cops right? And a man comes on brusque and businesslike, '911 what's your location?' and I start telling him about the accident in this incredibly high, halting, tearful voice and then I can't stop crying. To his credit, he became a lot friendlier once he heard me bawling and I'm like 'I just don't understand why she's so mad at me. She's saying I tried to kill her and I honestly didn't see her.' He soothes me into a lull saying accidents happen, people have blind spots, there's no reason to be nasty, don't worry about it. He can send a cop out to write up report but in the state of Pennsylvania it's no fault so the best thing to do is file a claim with my insurance company. He can hear that I'm still upset though. 'Do you want me to send a cop out?' 'nono, it's okay.' I squeak 'thank you.'

I take a deep breath and drive back home through the city, I don't want to be on route 28 right now. I finally get back home and get out of my car to check the damage for the first time. There's a bit of a dent in Owen's door, some scrapes along the door and wheel well and the plastic 'elbow' joint to my side view mirror is gone, but considering, things could have been a lot worse. It makes me remember the car accident I was in my senior year of high school, twenty two years ago, when things were a lot worse. I call the insurance company and start crying again, I really don't handle myself well for a forty year old, saying again how angry and mean the lady was. They record my account of what happened. The man tells me that investigators from both insurance companies will determine who's at fault. 'But I thought Pennsylvania was no fault, that's what the cop told me?' Apparently it is from a medical standpoint but not from a who caused the accident standpoint, so I start feeling bad all over again. How do they figure it out when it's a she said versus she said story? They're going to think it was my fault. I have to pay a $500 deductible and our insurance is going to go up because of me and how are we going to manage, already stretched tight due to this separation. Toby's the first one I called after I hung up. He's always the first person I think to go to, and he said not to worry about the money, that he was just glad I was alright. I am alright, shaken up, teary, but I think I'll be okay.

Sam and Frodo are so much a part of our family, here they're like sentinels watching over my kids during bathtime. Don't worry I'm in there too, I don't rely on the cats to keep my kids from drowning. I just couldn't resist getting a shot of them ever watchful. The cats remind me a bit of the lions that guard the books at the New York Public Library. The real fun begins after the kids are bathed when I'm draining the tub and Sam walks along the tub's edge until the water has receded enough for him to hop in and start drinking the remaining puddle of water. Nothing like dirty bathwater for feline digestive health. Happy spring everybody!

I think every parent has these moments where you find yourself saying something to your child and think, wow, never thought those words would come out of my mouth. Stuff like 'don't poke your sister with the unicorn', 'bend over so I can wipe your butt' or 'get the fire truck out of your mouth'. I swear Owen chews on so many things, I think he's part beaver. It's not too farfetched to see myself at his high school graduation admonishing him for having the tassel from his cap in his mouth. A couple nights ago Owen stayed up waaay past his bed time reading two Magic Treehouse books at the same time, I'd think that would be incredibly confusing but it doesn't seem to faze him. Toby came home late from a business dinner and went upstair to kiss the kids. Owen was still up reading by the glow of his ikea torch lamp after 10 and Toby chided 'Owen you've got to stop reading and get to bed.' and I'm like, 'bet you never thought you'd say that in your life.' I mean we're both bibliophiles so how can we scold Owen for staying up late reading, I mean I know kids need to sleep too but it's awesome to see him enjoying reading so much. Here he is not eating his breakfast because he's so engrossed in Sunset of the Sabertooth.

neuronal healing

That's my play on Marvin Gaye's Sexual Healing, the irony being that prozac has a frequent side effect of sexual dysfunction. Say what? Well let me back up a bit. I'm always catching snippets of Fresh Air between picking up Oona driving over to Owen's school to get him and finally heading to the gym. The whole cycle takes an hour but I miss quite a bit between running in and out of schools and trying to discern what's being said over the din of my tyrannical three year old, who believes I should pick up anything she drops as soon as it falls, never mind that I'm busy driving. I'm reading The Manipulative Child to learn how to deal with her but I haven't reached the part of effectively handling her yet. So, a while back I heard Terry Gross (does that woman ever sleep? how does she know so much!) talking to this guy Jonah Lehrer who seemed completely fascinating, he has a science blog called the frontal cortex, what's not to love?! Anyhow, I was reading one of his articles on prozac which, in a nutshell, says that current research points to the drug actually helping to heal neurons. I found this quite interesting given the stigma around taking antidepressants. I have been on an off various antidepressants since college, aside from a 6 year stretch without during my pregnancies and toddler years with my children. I finally went back on Prozac last June and I have to say I felt like kicking myself for waiting so long. It wasn't like I suddenly morphed into a social supermom. The main thing it did was turn down the volume of the constant worrying in my head. I still get little anxiety pulls watching my kids do certain things, I get nervous seeing strangers children riding shopping carts in the ways that are clearly banned with a slashed through icon on the plastic seat. And I'm a complete geek in social situations where I don't have a clear role, I don't worry about the social aspect of nursing because I'll have a purpose, but parties with a lot of people I barely know? I'm not confident enough to feel comfortable in those situations. But this craziness no longer sucks at my soul, seeing every disaster that could possibly happen to your children in your mind is like masochistic OCD, and I'm happier as a result. Let me know what you think about the story. He's so darn young. It's odd to me when I read or hear about people and they're much younger than me (Dick Gregory is two years younger than me?). I can go to the gym but I can't stave off the inevitable, I'm getting older. sigh.

pluripotent

I was in the locker room at the gym on Monday, changing into my exercise gear while trying to keep my body covered as much as possible, because I've always been a bit of a prude about my nudity in the locker room. CNN was on, talking about Obama lifting the ban one stem cell research. A happy blonde woman came in and said 'Obama is signing the order to lift the stem cell bill ban.' and I gave a close lipped smile thinking 'uh oh' because I don't know which way this woman falls on the stem cell debate and the gym is where I go to escape reality and the complications of politics and the dire state of the world for an hour and a half. Honestly, how will I change someone's opinion while putting on my sports bra? Then she looked at the woman across from her, 'I'm very happy for today. I have Huntington's.' That's when I noticed that she was having trouble getting her coat on. The woman across from her didn't say anything about the order but said, 'Here let me help you zip up your coat, it's cold out.' I have no way of knowing if she was for or against the lift on the ban, but she ignored the whole political minefield and did the kind thing in helping her. Later that night when Toby saw Obama on the news he mentioned how nice it was to finally have a rational man in office. Amen to that. I'm for lifting the ban because I see the enormous potential with research but when I think of this woman at the gym or a journalist afflicted with Parkinson's on a Frontline about Parkinson's that I saw last month, I can only imagine the breadth of what this means to them.

shark tales

My head, it hurts. I'm getting so many new things thrown at me in statistics. I can understand everything and do the problems easily enough but when the test comes a week from today I don't know if I'll be able to figure out which formula to use for which question - sort of like a lab rat placed in a maze wondering if it knows the right route to take. I am really looking forward to the break this summer between school school and nursing school. My Mom was out last week to visit for my Grandma's birthday, 94 years old and still fiesty, she's 88 pounds and can't walk but wheels herself all over in her wheelchair. She amazes me, the lady goes up and down so much with her health lately I never know what to expect. But she looked wonderful for her birthday, she had good color and cognitively she was pretty good and was in very good spirits so I'm glad that she enjoyed herself.

Grandma Cat, my children's euphemism for my mom, took us out to eat a whole bunch too. So much for my intention of avoiding junk food for lent. We hit Chili's twice, wild ones that we are, I can't resist the chocolate chip paradise pie. We'd get that and the molten chocolate cake and dig in with abandon. The first night we were there my paradise pie was so warm I scalded my tongue on it. The kids got electric blue slurpies of some sort, Oona wound up with a blue mustache resembling Dali's and Owen, not to be outdone, had a very blue tongue. And if that darn shark was waved in my face one more time I was ready to rip it to pieces with my bare teeth. I have spent most of February and all of March so far, eating like every day is fat tuesday. I need to stop before I pop or at least before my clothes become too small for me.