Stop Ahead

Top Ten

2012-02-11T11:44:00.001-06:00

The top 10 things I'm looking forward to about staying home with Rowan:
10. Walking the dogs. They have a vet appointment on Wednesday and I'm dreading seeing the effects of the couch potato life that has been in place for them ever since bed rest last year.

9. Walking myself. The dogs and I both have a layer of insulation to lose.

8. Cleaning the house. The level of cleanliness around here for the last two months has been guided by the questions "does it have spit up on it?" and "does it smell bad yet?"

7. Leisure. I have had a Netflix movie ready to watch for over a month. I have lots of books I want to read to Rowan, and a few I'd like to read myself. (Brandon Sanderson, hurry it up.)

6. Making meals at meal time like a civilized person instead of marathon cooking on the weekend or late nights to box up and reheat during the week.

5. Actually seeing family and friends.

4. Managing the house in general. It drives me crazy having our loose documents pile up "to be filed" and a full to-do folder. I need to do some accounting and budgeting and see what taxes look like. Yesterday I finally got a chance to call the medical insurance company, and the representative asked "what claim are you calling to inquire about?" I answered "all of them since October" (about 30).

3. Not being SO sleep deprived, including not waking up at 5am to get ready for work!! I fell asleep in my office this week and was granted a nice sweater imprint on my face for the next 30 minutes in return.

2. Actually having time to develop new mom skills-- trying cloth diapers, learning more baby sign language, using my new sewing machine and braving the local mom groups in the neighborhood and at church. I'm fully prepared to develop the new skill of avoiding the local mom's groups if they turn out to be too "Stepford wives," "Desperate Housewives," or any other brand of picturesque creepiness.

1. Not missing Rowan developing cool new skills. This week I actually was present for the first time he rolled over from back to tummy. He has become a real pro at rolling from tummy to back.

Another Week Bites the Dust

2012-02-08T22:16:00.000-06:00

Thanks to double checking my hours one last time with my LPC supervisor, my projected finish date moved up another week. I don't think there are any additional hours to be found, so I believe my projected finish date is pretty much set. I have four and a half weeks to go! Plus it's official. I had told my boss about my plan to leave way back in October, but I firmed up my plans now that it's getting to close. Yesterday I also told co-workers, which I was delaying doing until I was sure my plans were a go. Last month when Greg and I were wading through our dining room, flooded courtesy of a broken pipe inside the wall, I questioned whether maybe that was the dreaded "unexpected financial event" that may change our plans for the year. Never having flooded any walls or carpeting in the past, we expected the repair cost to be astronomical. But thankfully, though a handsome chunk of money, it was way, way less than we thought. And of course the upside is that we have can now add surviving that little surprise to our metaphorical "Up"-style adventure book. Incidentally we got a coupon from our water damage remediation company after this whole ordeal ended. I'm not really planning to be a repeat customer. But if any unlucky readers are ironically "surfing" the web from a newly sea-faring couch or table at the moment, apparently I can get you a discount on having that checked out.

SIX

2012-02-04T21:52:00.000-06:00

Last month I used a Christmas gift card to pick up an AWE-some completely random book at Half Price Books entitled "The Awe-manac: A Daily Dose of Wonder."

Just like it says, the book provides a bunch of random creativity-inspiring quotes, facts, and writing prompts for each month and day of the year. I feel like this quirky book was written for me-- I wish it was written BY me. It has colorful doodles everywhere and it suggests that you assign a nonsensical name to each day, like "The Day that Ate My Brain". I figured this would be a really entertaining book to refer to when I have a spare moment- or need to create a spare moment- on some days. I happened to look at the book yesterday, and the page for February 3rd says, "It's the midway point between winter and spring- 45 days have elapsed before the Spring Equinox. Write about being 'halfway' to anything."

As of today I have six more weeks to go before I'm home with Rowan. I have also been working for six weeks now, so coincidentally this is the official half-way point. Six weeks sounds like a short time, yet the amount of time I've been working so far seems long. I've often been reassured that the rest of the time will go by quickly.

Also, the name of today is Notice Green Day. (Notice the color green, not the band Green Day.) A glitch in Google caused me to temporarily lose my regular countdown to Rowan, and it loaded a blank template in its place. I happened to really like the random black and green skin that it used, so when I regained my iGoogle stuff, I changed it to match. Rowan would probably prefer that I use this instead of my former girly pink color anyway.

SEVEN

2012-02-01T05:52:00.001-06:00

I have spent hours squinting at my work computer combing through my hours accounting in my free time. I found TONS of hours that I had forgotten to count over the past year and a half. Based on my current projections, I've moved my "done by" date up two weeks!

I now have SEVEN weeks until I'm home with Rowan. Tracy has excitedly offered to watch him in the meantime.

Spoiled

2012-01-29T06:44:00.001-06:00

At barely three months old, baby boy has decided to literally sleep through the night. Not just "a six hour stretch" kind of sleep through the night, which he has been doing consistently for a month. But sleeping from his 7:30pm bedtime until we wake him at 5:15am. He has done this twice now. The other nights this week he only woke up once briefly.

Greg and I are so spoiled because Rowan has been an excellent sleeper all along. We began improving our 'sleep habits' a month ago, but we weren't planning on doing any kind of "sleep training" for another month. The sleep habits we keep are just having a regular routine, and I also stopped inadvertently waking Rowan up. I read several articles that said babies make little sounds and move around during REM sleep, and many a new mom thinks baby is waking up. Desperate for a quick return to my own sleep, I would pick Rowan up immediately to "soothe him back to sleep," when really he had been asleep until I intervened. When I waited a moment after hearing an initial babble or squeak, 90% of the time he dropped off into a comfy quiet new sleep cycle.

I've been told by several people and books that sleep may get tough again when he really begins teething, so this blessing of sleep may be short lived. I think the early teething process has begun for him. That's fine, we will be prepared. But however long it lasts this is SO NICE!

TEN

2012-01-25T13:17:00.002-06:00

10 more weeks including this one until I'm home with Rowan.

Quotes of the day since I've been back:

(You have to have seen SNL's Weekend Update in recent years with the extremely nervous woman guest to appreciate this one:)
Client: Suicidal?? Yes I want to kill myself! Just kidding! No, really, I want to die. No, KIDDING! I want to kill someone else....NO I don't! Well she deserves to die. Just kidding! I'll kill them all and let God sort it out. NO, no....I'm kidding.

Child client (pointing to a picture on my shelf): Is that your dog?
Me: Yes it is.
Child: Do people ever bring their dogs up here?
Me: No, it's not allowed.
Child: Why don't you have a "dogs are not allowed" sign in your office?

Child trying to play quietly with Legos in my office gets very frustrated that his tower keeps falling over. He finally runs to his mother exasperated and yells, "THOSE BLOCKS MUST HATE ME!"

Me: And do you believe that you have any special powers that other people don't have?
Client: Yes. In the military it's called "an ear finely attuned to bullshit."

Child client (classic non-sequeter during the assessment, turns to her mother and says): I want a pet cockroach.
Client's mom: Yuck!
Client: Like one of the big roaches.
Mom: You can't have a pet cockroch....The ferret would eat it!

Worth the Weight (Updated)

2012-01-20T18:15:00.001-06:00

Like most new moms I'm hoping that I can return to my pre-pregnancy weight and clothes sooner rather than later. It looks like it may be "later" in my case though, and I'm trying my best not to be too frustrated by it. I had high expectations about breastfeeding causing the weight to come off quickly- after all, it's like doing moderate exercise every 2-4 hours, 24/7 because of the calories that milk production burns. Plus I got a huge start on weight loss when the baby was born- the week after, I discovered I had lost 20 lbs and 6 inches from my waist as compared to the end of the pregnancy. (If there's a plus side to the horrific swelling I experienced in pregnancy it's that I had a lot of water weight to lose.) That leaves me with about 20 more to lose. But a month after the birth, the first set-back occurred* when my doctor discovered my pregnancy induced hypertension was back with a vengeance- my blood pressure was higher than it ever had been during pregnancy. And I suddenly had five extra pounds of swelling to match. So I had another week of monitoring and tests, which were inconclusive. So, it was followed by a second week of monitoring and tests. Finally, at six weeks post-partum, I was deemed healthy and also sufficiently healed from surgery to be without any restrictions.

I truly enjoy working out and being active, so I was excited to return to those activities regardless of concerns about weight. But in the back of my mind I thought surely the pounds will fall off once I'm breastfeeding plus doing light cardio and toning when I can. I was also careful to eat a well balanced but abundant diet since my doc warned me not to cut calories or my milk supply would go down. Frustrated after a few more weeks of no weight loss, I counted my calorie intake on several days to check if i was overdoing it, and I was always within 100 calories of the amount my doc quoted just by eating what and when I was hungry.
Later I had hopes that returning to work would help with weight loss because I couldn't snack freely, only had my preplanned healthy food available to me, and I continued to breastfeed exclusively thanks to the magic invention of the breast pump. But all of my high hopes were misplaced. I've lost 1 to 2 pounds in all over the last 3 months. I may be on the "9 months on, 9 months off" track.

I return to the slogan that has rattled around in my head since Rowan was born: "how important is it?" Or rather why is it important to me? It's not an appearance issue- as compared to my pregnant belly I feel wonderfully skinny. After all, I can see my toes and sleep on my stomach now. It's partly a practicality issue since none of my clothes fit. The pre-pregnancy clothes don't fit, not even close enough to wear unbuttoned with a concealing belly band. The maternity clothes with regular elastic bands just hug my incision site and my extra 20 pounds flop over the band like a little beer gut. Yet my belly is just small enough that the maternity pants with a panel aren't snug enough to stay up. As with shirts- I still need the long maternity shirts to cover my belly and maternity pants, and it would be nice to be able to cycle in the 50 or so pre-pregnancy shirts I own into the mix rather than rewearing the dozen shirts I've been wearing for nine months, about 4 of which are currently appropriate for work. (The temporary effects of breastfeeding can sure turn an innocent light cotton V neck into quite a spectacle...just sayin.)

But a more serious concern about the weight is my health. I've always tried to ignore weight completely because in itself it's a useless indicator of health. Even the Body Mass Index is an unreliable indicator because it doesn't account for what is making up the weight; it's particularly troublesome for women with any muscle tone. I have always tried to rely on body composition measures (like calipers or electronic sensors) and simply making good lifestyle choices to gauge my own health. So, it's not the number of pounds that's nagging at me- it's the fact that the number isn't not going down. I've wondered over the recent weeks if I'm doing something wrong. I've looked at whether I'm eating too much or too little, or being too active or too little, or even just needing more rest and sleep. It's incredibly important to me to be healthy for me and my family. I want to be a good role model for Rowan and also to be able to hike, bike, and climb with him soon. I am acutely aware of how busy and loving moms routinely put their family's needs above their own, which is good and noble. But it's easy for that to include their health. Another slogan I've held onto over the years, particularly working in the social services industry, is that you can't take care of anyone well else unless you take care of yourself. Ultimately caring for yourself ensures that you can care for those around you best.
Really, I'm fine with a slow return to pre-pregnancy weight. I'll take that over endangering my milk supply by sudden drops in my weight any day. (A friend of mine with an almost identical pregnancy including the high blood pressure, bed rest, and swelling before and after is down to producing 10% of her former supply after dieting.) I just want to be sure I'm not overlooking any bad habits that are forming causing the weight to stick. I felt much better once I read that for some women the hormones involved in breast-feeding causes weight retention instead of loss. Maybe I'm just one of those lucky ones. That would be par for the course for me and all of my weird pregnancy complications. I have resolved to keep up a healthy lifestyle, and as far as the pounds I'll weight patiently.

*I meant to add that the second the third set backs occurred when I was attempting to exercise and my bad knees got all clicky, and later I learned that when I walk with Rowan strapped to me in his baby carrier and I don't wear supportive shoes, my right foot is really painful to walk on like the bones are broken for the next week and my joints are all achy like an 80 year old's. I'm told that's due to the ongoing hormones that cause your joints and ligaments to stretch during pregnancy. Good times. Thankfully if I gear up with two knee braces and my New Balance cross training sneakers I'm fine.

Does that make me crazy?

2012-01-14T10:32:00.003-06:00

I've learned a lot about myself over the past few weeks working. Namely, I'm prone to temporary insanity. It's been incredibly difficult just to accomplish the things that absolutely need to get done in the 2-3 hours that I'm home at night before I go to bed: snuggle with and feed adorable son, snuggle with and feed adorable husband (though my very different means, mind you), clean bottles etc for next day, and take shower. Thankfully my wonderful hubby has done many of those things himself to make it all even possible. And vacuuming the house, walking the dogs, scrubbing toilets, folding laundry, cleaning my car out? Maybe in 2 months.

As it is, my schedule is thoroughly hectic. It's taken me an hour and a half just to drive home on three different occasions this week.

There are times I got insanely tired. Stuck in evening traffic at one malfunctioning light for 40 minutes, I began calculating whether or not Sheila could jump the curb of the grassy median. And go where? Maybe drive north on the completely empty southbound side of the road, I planned. Surely everyone would follow me in protest of the poorly maintained light and I'd be hailed as a hero of the commute. The only reason I didn't try it was in case there was an accident ahead, attended by law enforcement personnel. Instead I tried to nap for the 30 seconds between each time we scooted forward a half car-length.

There are times I got insanely hungry. One time I was almost home, driving into our section of the subdivision. I saw a Papa Johns guy get out of his car to make a delivery. "OOH!" I thought in all seriousness... "I could stop him and take that pizza!!" For a second, robbing an unsuspecting sixteen year old seemed like a small price to pay for a hot, ready-to-eat meal. But after that brief second, I was puzzled at the thought, as though it hadn't come from me. And I assure you, I resisted the temptation and proceeded home. And I was not associated with the pair who robbed a pizza man at gun point and made him strip down to his underwear, which oddly occurred on that same night I think.

And there are times I got insanely frustrated. On the third night that there was a stop light out on the way home, delaying my commute by 45 minutes (different light each night!), I was exhausted when I reached my neighborhood. But I needed sour cream for the dinner I had planned of wonderful spicy tortilla soup, already lovingly made by my hubby. As always when shopping hungry, I ended up with four times as many things as I came in for including a long-awaited hunk of Brie cheese. Although I don't find it offensive, generally I don't see any conversational value to profanity; instead I find it to be a jarring bump in the rhythm of speech. But when I'm tired and hungry, my internal dialogue is just illogical and unpredictable. First I marched to the isle I was sure I needed...."Where are the fancy-ass crackers?" I silently asked of myself. I stalked one isle over..."Fancy-ass crackers?...." No answer. I scanned the isle labels overhead, I walked the store, I retraced my steps, and no luck. Eventually, worn out and frustrated, ill-fitting pre-pregnancy overcoat askew and Brie in hand, it took all of my will power not to grab the next bag boy that I saw and demand, "Where the f*** are the crackers?" I resolved to buy the pack of 10 crackers for $5 that is displayed by the fancy-ass cheeses.

But I made it. I didn't break any laws. I didn't rob anyone or make them strip at gunpoint. I didn't accost any teenage employees of any establishments what so ever. And now I have Brie cheese for the weekend.

You Gotta Roll With It

2012-01-03T18:55:00.000-06:00

It is a proven fact that I lack the spatial reasoning required to roll pre-made crescent roll dough properly. The pan always ends up looking like a sad place where bakery misfits go to die.

2012-01-02T11:30:00.003-06:00

30 Before 30

2012-01-01T14:12:00.000-06:00

I'm simply amazed at how fast time is going as I get older. I'm speeding towards the big 3-0. I am wondering if I can fit all of my 30 before 30 in, well, before 30. Because of all of the restrictions and bed rest this year, much of my fun will be had in 2012, starting with the plane ride and flying lesson my hubby got me for Christmas! Watch out, Houston, because I'm taking to the skies sometime in the next few months! In other 30/30 news, I stopped my PhD applications this fall in favor of completing them next year for consideration for Fall 2014 admission when Rowan will be pre-school aged. I'm psyched to take the GRE again this year and try to improve on my scores from 10 years ago.

A few of my ideas will be best accomplished after I finish working full time, such as taking the Red Cross volunteer training class and showing Rowan off to far-away relatives. I'll have to adjust my goal of taking the bilingual test at work because I probably won't be employed there by the time I've studied enough to attempt something similar. And I am really unsure if I can do a few of the trips after all, namely the Grand Canyon and snowboarding. Both could be pretty dangerous with a squirmy infant or toddler attached to me. And lastly, I have to call out Brandon Sanderson, who is charged with completing the famous Wheel of Time series by the late Robert Jordan. Get your book on the shelves!! I have been patiently counting down the days to 2012, only to find out the official release date this year is TBA. Better watch out for frustrated mobs of WoT fans looking for you.

I reorganized the months to better accommodate my plans.

2010
Sept Hair cut	9/22/10 Zen
Oct Register with BetheMatch	9/22/10 BetheMatch
Nov Do 2nd Triathlon	10/10/10 Cypress Medical Center 10/24/10 Katy Firethorn
Dec Visit Another country	12/15/10-12/17/10 Honduras, Belize, Mexico

2011
Jan Volunteer with outreach ministry	11/2010 Thanksgiving food drive 12/2010 Christmas box for Honduras
Feb Visit Sharon in LA	10/15/10 to 10/18/10 LA to Houston
Mar Have parTAY	5/2011, 8/2011
Apr MS 150	4/16/11-4/17/11 Houston to Austin
May Go on a cruise	12/12/10 Royal Caribbean
Jun Go kayaking	12/17/10 Cozumel
Jul Drive Sheila over 200,000 miles	4/15/11
Aug Play a round of golf	11/7/10
Sep Try small group at church	9/25/10 Sacred Marriage
Oct Hike the grand canyon
Nov Apply to PhD/PsyD	Apply Fall 2012
Dec Snowboard again

2012
Jan Take a motorcycle lesson
Feb Ride on small plane	Christmas present!
Mar Publish my article	Submitted 9/2011, (pending)
Apr Volunteer Initiatives Ride Along	Scheduled: Spring 2012
May Become a certified Red Cross volunteer	Asap after work
Jun Go tubing
Jul Dog training class
Aug Teach an adjunct class
Sep Finish my 3 year supply of "Best of" movies	Watching: 50 done, 54 more to go
Oct Study Spanish and take bi-lingual test at work	Studying: no test available
Nov Get Distance ED certification	After licensed
Dec Visit relatives in Minnesota	Asap after work

2013
Jan Finish Jordan series	Final book may be published summer 2012
Feb Reduce debt by 75%	Saving: reduced by 56%!

Two Worlds

2012-01-01T12:45:00.003-06:00

A quote that I've always loved is a loose translation of a Chuang Tzu text, "I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?" I was reminded of this quote this week because I developed a completely unexpected duality of identity when I returned to work. Staying home the past few months was utterly foreign to me at first and was a complete departure from my previous lifestyle. But once Rowan arrived, the idea of returning to work became the oddity. For weeks I was anxious and reluctant about going back. I made list after list to help me feel more prepared about getting into a routine and making sure Rowan would transition well.

When the day finally arrived, the reluctance was inexplicably gone, and the anxiety suddenly morphed into excitement. I loved the familiarity of the commute and my beloved morning radio shows. I realized I had almost forgotten what it was like to be independent and solely in charge of how to spend my time. I strolled into my office early and resumed work as though I hadn't missed a day. I even remembered all of the keyboard short cuts that allow me to flash through our database screens when doing my paperwork. And I wasn't at all apprehensive about volatile clients. I jumped at the chance to review psychological testing reports, court orders and to talk to probation and parole officers- a few areas of psychology that I love most. It truly was as though I had just nodded off and the waddling and swollen feet and months of bed rest were simply a quick dream. A few times at work I've even mused about how difficult it will be to hang it all up for a while once I'm done with my intern hours in a few months.

But then each day I looked forward to arriving at home and seeing Rowan's smiling face. I calculated how many hours I had to cuddle with him until his bed time or until I have to leave in the morning. And I got a taste of the most common affliction of working parents- missing significant milestones, because Rowan rolled over for the first time about an hour before I arrived home from work on Thursday. When I think of all of the adorable expressions, discoveries, and accomplishments I will miss, three more months of full time work can seem like a sad eternity. That is until I'm back at work, and the idea of taking a few years off from the excitement and challenges of my field is disappointing.

I feel as though my entire constitution is different when I am at home as compared to when I am at work, and both of them feel natural and rewarding. It has been very odd to switch between them each weekday. I'm sure I will get used to it soon. In the meantime I just stare at the coworkers who I know are parents as though I've just discovered their secret superhero identity. I had no idea what a huge undertaking it is to juggle work and parenthood, especially if both parents are employed. Personally, I'm wondering exactly how long it will take before our household is completely devoid of clean dishes, clean clothes, and groceries and the furniture collapses under the weight of accumulated dog hair.

My first baby

2011-12-23T22:53:00.001-06:00

Although she has been a tad neglected at times since Rowan arrived, Sahara remains my true first baby-- someone I love unconditionally, feed, clothe, clean up poop after, and occasionally rush to the doctor in a frenzy (http://stopahead.blogspot.com/2009/01/vet-my-new-favorite-place-apparently.html). I was reminded today how hysterically funny it is to me that Sahara sits like a person in the car, with her legs stuck out straight. It cracks me up! This is car-only behavior. It doesn't happen on the couch or floor. The second funniest thing about the pets in the car is seeing reactions to the dogs. Children point excitedly, strangers smile warmly at them and nod to me, and I've even seen drivers inch their car within a paint-coats distance of the next vehicles bumper in order to stay within viewing distance of the pets. I think it really brightens peoples' day. If only they could see Sahara's legs. The hilarity of it would cause traffic accidents.

Sleep!

2011-12-21T22:07:00.001-06:00

I was so dead tired today after an attempted nap that I typed a long email to my Hubby explaining that I absolutely need to go to sleep early tonight. We worked together just as planned so I was able to get to bed when the baby went to sleep. Yet for the whole last hour and a half I've been as wide awake as Rowan was when he discovered the amazing fluorescent lights overhead at the doctors office. Though I don't intend to, I'm thinking all about returning to work-- my little office, my license hung on the wall, my clock radio that I've missed, the small hallway-community I belong to, and even the newfangled $300 desk phone we were all issued shortly before I left. I'm thinking of the untold number of times that my office was used by coworkers over the last four months when some vital piece of overworked office equipment was bring repaired elsewhere. I'm wondering what the office equivalent is of an unsupervised guest peeking into the medicine cabinet. I'm speculating as to whether any work-friends have gotten accustomed to using my mini-fridge, and if I will have to awkwardly evict them to preserve space for breast milk. I'm considering what I will say when someone knocks on my door while I'm pumping. I'm thinking of the 500 emails I will read next week. I'm betting on the number of days until a client becomes threatening or violent, and if I will still be as easily shaken (for me) as I suddenly was during pregnancy. My bet is four days I've decided-- I think I'll have an exciting new work story to share before the year is out. I'm wondering if I will recount my work stories to Rowan while I hold him when I get home in the evening. I am guessing as to the most interesting diagnosis I will encounter upon returning. Last time I returned I had a providential encounter with a client who had several rare diagnoses, and it reminded me of my passion for this profession.

...All I want for now is to have a very providential encounter with sleep. GO GO GADGET SLEEEEP!!

Old

2011-12-14T22:37:00.000-06:00

One week ago I was given the official go-ahead to resume exercising after 4 months of restrictions. I was so excited I bought new workout clothes on TWO separate occasions. Anyone who knows how much I loathe shopping would be impressed. I reorganized/finished-unpacking my closet in order to best accommodate said work out clothes. I scoured the house to find my knee brace, one of my most prized possessions. (Incidentally it turns out it had been shelved along with my road bike since the MS 150 in April.) And I located my new exercise ball, though I thought it unwise to try balancing my still pregnancy-weight-laden body on it using only my newly healed ab muscles just yet.

I started out by vacuuming the house. This was my idea of "starting slow," as everyone has warned me to do...those who know me best, repeatedly so. I slept for 2 hours immediately afterwards. The next day I instituted my favorite home work out routine that I used to do 15 years ago before I had access to a gym. Truthfully, it came from an early 90's issue of Seventeen magazine, entitled, "Exercises for the clothes you love!" with pink arrows connecting the bicep curls to a tank top and squats to the butt of some designer jeans. But, despite the source, the work out is actually fast, effective and comprehensive, consisting of three exercises each for upper body, lower body, and abs. So I started to do this routine with 10 lbs of extra resistance sleeping happily in the infant carrier strapped to me. But very shortly after that I stopped to seek out my brace on account of my knee was now clicking every time I moved. I braced myself and resumed the work out, and I was so glad to be active again. I couldn't do the three floor exercises due to carrying Rowan, but again I thought that might be a gold star for me in the "taking it slow" category. The next day my legs were still fiery-sore, but I felt great over all.

Two days ago I tried the routine again. This time I didn't have my knee brace, but I decided to go ahead anyway. My knee wasn't even clicking. Rowan tagged along in his carrier, and the dogs even excitedly followed along with me until they realized that I never intended to leave the 6 square feet of space I was exercising in. The next day my legs weren't even sore. No... Instead my knee swelled up, is tender to the touch, tight to walk on, and is even in twinging pain at rest sometimes. It makes it very difficult to kneel down beside the baby for play time or baths, or to rise from sitting on the floor. Even putting my knee on the mattress to get into bed is painful.

It was never this difficult 15 years ago! This is an easy work out! Sheesh. I guess I should trade in my Seventeen articles for some Boniva and a subscription to Better Homes and Gardens. As I informed Rowan today, "Your Mommy is OLD!"

Family Tree

2011-12-07T10:01:00.004-06:00

Before Rowan was born I endeavored to collect genealogical information about my family. The first reason for this project was because I honestly didn't even have the current generation straight because there are so many members of the family. There are eight kids on my dad's side of the family, and everyone has multiple kids (my cousins) and many of them have also had kids over the years (Wikipedia says my cousin's kids are my "first cousins once removed", and they are Rowan's "second cousins"). Anyway, starting with the current generation I found

23 of my cousins on Dad's side
14 of Rowan's second cousins
6 of my cousins on Mom's side
1 of Rowan's second cousins

I've tried my best to build historical genealogical information onto this. On one side, some of the family's history was preserved, with the family tree stretching back to a cool poet in England with the pen name "Walker Miles." He enjoyed traveling, being outdoors, hiking, and writing....sounds oddly familiar.

On the other side of the family, getting genealogical information over the years has been like pulling teeth, even from people who admittedly have the information. Until six months ago I don't even know the name of my biological grandfather. I've run into people over the years who share my uncommon maiden name, and they ask excitedly if we may be related. I always have to smile like an idiot and declare, "I don't know." Even my significant online research ("cyberstalking") skills have been of no help. I mean really...after exhausting public search sites, I eventually registered with a few state and federal databases, and nothing. I've even driven across the country to research this. Once I was expecting Rowan, I eventually pleaded with my relatives who have the info, and as in previous years, I just got referred in circles or not responded to at all.

So after about 15 years of trying and six months or so of concentrated effort to gather the info in preparation for Rowan's arrival, I will assume that side of the family was descended from a super-secret society of leprechauns or that we spontaneously generated ourselves about 70 years ago. I guess I'm fine with that for now unless I find the time eventually to request birth certificates and such and find these mysterious answers myself. What I have on the rest of the family tree is a great start. But the minute that Rowan is sporting a beard, hat, and buckled shoes, my relatives will have some 'splaining to do.

Mommyhood

2011-12-04T14:43:00.002-06:00

I continue to be surprised at how I'm responding to being a mother. As previously mentioned, as a kid I was never the type of girl to play with dolls, dress up, or pretend to be a bride. Having no draw whatsoever to mimic the more "traditional" feminine roles, I grew up as both a tomboy and an enterprising money-conscious child. My two younger sisters did enjoy dress-up and Barbies, so I claimed a counter of our play kitchen and set up a pretend dry cleaning business. I would charge my easily-persuaded siblings real money to care for all of their dress up garments ("silver money" only please- no pennies). I then deposited all of my profits into one of many banks that I possessed. Once a week I would count my money and put it into coin rolls. In second grade or so, I began "my first business" selling Sales Leadership Club merchandise to neighbors and family friends. I organized family garage sales and sold my old toys and things taking up space in the garage. When I was in third grade, I learned how to make a spreadsheet in Lotus 1-2-3 and I regularly composed budgets showing new income and expenses from the week. In fourth grade I bought a receipt book from the grocery store, complete with carbon copies, and utilized it when I lent my parents $100 cash for something or other. The next year I bought myself a TV for my room so I wouldn't have to share prime time or Nintendo privileges with my three siblings. At 12 I tried my hand at babysitting, but I found it to be both stressful and boring at the same time. Since every real employer still said I was too young to work, I persuaded the local skating rink to allow me to work in exchange for soda and skating passes. Finally at 15 I was employable, and I've always held one or frequently two jobs since that time. Thankfully, my career has developed quite a bit since the Sales Leadership days, such that I can make a living doing what I find to be most fulfilling and challenging.

Clearly my focus on employment and finances has been strangely high for the last 20 years. My focus on career is the main reason why I questioned whether I would want children. I believed that if I were to have a child, I should ideally care for him or her myself during the first few years of constant growth, development, and need. Yet I really could not picture myself in that role at home, especially given my short-lived career in babysitting. Since I was a kid I liked that working kept me busy, provided me opportunities for learning, and allowed me to be independent and to gamble on the effectiveness of my decision making. And I love the lack of predictability in my chosen profession and the opportunity to truly help people. So, long before I had Rowan, I sincerely doubted that caring for a baby alone at home could provide the fulfillment I've always found in building my career.

I have been shocked at how fulfilling motherhood is for me in a lot of the same ways that working has been. There's no doubt it keeps me busy. It invites constant learning, not only about my son and parenting, but I am reading more than I have in years on my Kindle app while he's nursing-- allowing me to continue to grow in areas other than being a parent. There are some ways- like the extra reading or exercise time and a flexible schedule- that being a mother allows me to have more independence than working. True, it doesn't allow me to have the security of financial independence, which has always been a strong driving force behind my desire to work. But I'm blessed with a spouse whom I trust to provide for the family and with whom I can share financial decisions. As far as gambling on the effectiveness of my decision making...I'm betting a large part of my son's future on it. And full time mommy-hood competes pretty well with the lack of predictability and the opportunities to help others that I find in the field of mental health.

I have an amazing opportunity available to me in which I can see what life is like on both sides of the stay-at-home and working-mom coin. After a wonderful eight weeks at home with my new son, I will return to full time work for at least three months. This will allow me to finish up my license as a professional counselor, at which time I plan to take a break from employment for a while to care for Rowan full time again. I am so grateful to be able to see what being a working mother is like, as at this point it seems like an unimaginably exhausting challenge that most American moms somehow manage (67%)! And I also feel incredibly blessed to know that this challenge will most likely be time-limited for me, and I can return home to my favorite little monster after a few months. On my iGoogle page, I replaced the baby-due-date countdown with the going-back-to-work countdown, and it's currently ticking off 22 days, 16 hours, and 59 minutes. The minute I set foot in back in my office, which has been abandoned for four long months, that clock will definitely get reset again to "Countdown-to-Rowan-Time!"

I listens for the baby while I sleeps...

2011-12-01T12:40:00.001-06:00

Mornings

2011-11-29T09:18:00.001-06:00

My poor baby is fussy sometimes as he is dealing with a mild case of reflux. He made this face at me yesterday which made him look like an angry mob boss preparing to order a hit (presumably on me). Turns out that this face means "lunch is about to come out of both ends at once."

For some reason mornings are particularly bad for his reflux. He usually wakes up at 6am to eat, and then the fussies start. I'm desperate for continued sleep at this hour, so I typically put him in his bouncer and rock him with one hand while the rest of me is semi-conscious. And every few minutes Rowan calms down into silence, eyes closed, only to wake up crying as soon as I stop rocking him. Eventually after 45 minutes to an hour of this, my arm gives out and I abandon the hope of sleep. I get up, change his diaper and/or clothes and tend to whatever hygiene I can manage for myself. About a half hour after that, once I'm fully committed to wakefulness, Rowan is suddenly sleeping...like a baby. I then ponder how long it would take my fully awake system to power down for a nap, and how long after that time Rowan would remain asleep. But then I realize it's 9am and I'm very hungry, but I promise myself I'll sleep during one of his naps later in the day. You know, for real this time.

The importance of communication

2011-11-20T21:48:00.001-06:00

At this point, my son has one mode of verbal communication- crying. There is some "big picture" body language to accompany that, but at this stage of fine motor skill development and muscle control, he will not be signing, pointing to, or reliably grabbing at what he wants just yet. So comforting him is a bit of a guessing game. I really wish I could hear his thoughts or review this stage later to see what parts of the game I got right (and wrong). I imagine it will go a lot like this:

Rowan, waking up from a nap: "WAAAAAAAAAAH!!" (Translation- "The sun's in my eyes, and an undone snap on my clothes is digging into my back and my ears are cold!!!!"

Mom: "Hi, baby! Are you hungry after that nap!"

Rowan: "WAAAA waaaaaaa, wa..." / "Oh, um.....alright I'll eat. But then we have to have a serious discussion about my ears!"

Rowan abruptly stops eating after a few minutes.

Mom: "All full!"

Rowan: "A dog licked my head while I was eating."

Soon Rowan makes his patented 'I'm going to start wailing' face.

Mom: "Aw, you got the gassies?" and I begin burping him.

Rowan: "My-ears-are-FREEZING!" WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!

Incident Report: Adjusting to the Baby?

2011-11-19T03:07:00.002-06:00

At approximately 2:30am complainant Gregory was sleeping at his residence. Wife Lisa reportedly left the bedroom with their child to respond to an alleged dirty diaper incident. Contrary to routine, wife Lisa neglected to close the door to the complainant's sleeping quarters. At this time the suspect entered the room and peed on the complainant in bed.

Suspect is a 5 year old female, reddish-brown hair, brown eyes. She is armed (4), tailed (1), and floppy eared (2). Often accompanied by red ball.

Complainants have identified a possible motive in the case: suspect misses her daddy.

Hello. My name is Mommy.

2011-11-16T22:51:00.000-06:00

I keep thinking how it seems like I've had my son for much longer than three weeks. It seems like he has always been with me. And it occurs to me that in my child's mind, he has. As far as he knows, I popped onto existence at the same time as him and we have been on this crazy trip of discovering the world together. It will be a long time before Rowan can conceptualize that I was once "an adult who was not a mommy" (Hyperlinks while posting by email? Cut and paste is the best I can do http://stopahead.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-am-adult-who-is-not-mommy.html). I believe I was in junior high before I truly realized that my mom had a complete adult life going on before she had me. Prior to that I pictured her life's time line as taking ballet lessons as a child at my grandparents house, and then suddenly she was walking in the park with me when I was about six.

In fact all of history will remain pretty much irrelevant to Rowan for a good number of years. 9/11 is to Rowan as the Kennedy assassination is to Greg and I. The bulk of my life so far occurred "back in the 1900's" in future-Rowan-speak. The fact that I was around before home computers were popular makes me seem like a dinosaur. I can't wait to attempt to explain to my son what a "land line" was. It's these things that really make me feel plenty old enough to be a mom. When I start feeling too old (how much time is left on my 30 before 30??) maybe I'll start encouraging Rowan's belief that I was created when he was born- a newly minted ageless Mommy just for him.

Three Week Update

2011-11-15T16:42:00.001-06:00

Today my son is three weeks old. It's also been three weeks since the surgery that ushered him into the world. I'm very happy to have settled into a routine with him at home. I can accomplish a fair amount of "to do"s while he naps during the day, and I still manage to make myself rest sometimes in accordance with my surgery recovery rules. The recurrence of pain tells me if I've done too much. As I recover and learn the trade of being a mom, the smallest accomplishments are the most satisfying. Yesterday I realized I have regained a lot of my range of motion, meaning I no longer feel like my insides are trying to escape through the incision across my middle every time I twist, bend, or sit up. I discovered with glee that this meant I could lay on my stomach again, something I haven't done for at least seven months. It was wonderful. And being relatively pain free is also a mark in my favor in the war against insomnia.

Other milestones for me and Rowan- Today I took Rowan on a car ride by myself for the first time. (That includes hefting him around in the car seat.) We are learning to nurse while walking so little tasks can be handled if needed. Today those tasks included quickly rescuing the cat and an Amazon delivery from a downpour of Biblical proportions this afternoon. And I successfully found, unwrapped, and applied a bandaid to Rowan's foot one-handed while soothing/holding the hysterical infant with the other arm. I was not able to continue nursing him during this incident however, which is why he was hysterical, not because his doctor-inflicted heel prick site was bleeding all over his receiving blanket. And lastly because of both the increased range of motion and having established a napping routine for the baby, I have made more progress on my three day attempt to paint my toe nails. So far I have the left foot done. If I manage to paint the other five toes I'd say today was a success.

Daze and Nights

2011-11-14T02:24:00.002-06:00

How long until we get the day-night reversal corrected? Well Rowan figured it out about a week ago. Lisa's problems have just begun.

Every night at 1-, 2-, 3-, or 4am with Rowan, I struggle to keep my eyes open long enough to finish feeding and rock him to a deep sleep. I spend this time vowing to take a nap at my first opportunity the next day. The trouble is I'm a really, really terrible napper. It takes forever to fall asleep, I wake up inexplicably covered in sweat, and I'm often disoriented with a headache and bleh feeling for the rest of the day. Several times this week I have attempted to take naps but I never got to sleep. Thus, I spend my days in a vaguely drowsy state awaiting night time, or "the appropriate time to sleep," according to my body. So imagine my surprise when for the last two nights I've suddenly been wide awake at bed time. After being a walking zombie all day, last night I spent 9pm to midnight laying in bed waiting and waiting for sleepiness to return. My infant was sleeping peacefully across the room...I was almost guaranteed to be free of parenting duties and worries for 3 to 4 hours...the room was dark and quiet...I felt quite grateful and serene, not at all anxious or sad...there was nothing particular weighing on my mind....and I really wanted to sleep. But what I did instead was stare at the ceiling, get a glass of water, think about what I'd like to do the next day, did deep breathing exercises, read from two books to try to get sleepy, and notice how one part of our window curtain was frayed and the moonlight shone in through little imperfections in the fabric. At midnight Rowan was hungry again and the process repeated itself.

I'm quite familiar with this night time torture routine, as I had serious insomnia as a kid and teenager. I spent all night with the radio on low trying to use it as white noise and to focus on the music instead of planning or worrying or thinking. I'd make a bet with myself about during which hour the classic rock station would play Dream Weaver (a nightly staple evidently) and try to suggest to my subconscious that I would fall asleep soon after I heard it. I grew so used to watching the clock and calculating how many hours until my alarm went off that I became conditioned to check the time exactly every 60 minutes; if I saw the clock at 3:17am I'd instinctively look again at 4:17 and then 5:17.... I never actually won that battle with insomnia technically, I just caught up on sleep involuntarily when I got mono as a teen and had to withdraw from school for 6 weeks. The insomnia persisted in college, so I just picked favorably scheduled classes. I became good friends with several night owls and we named ourselves The Breakfast Club partly to be ironic. My first job after college was working from 4pm to 12am so that suited my needs pretty well. In fact the first post of this blog from that time period explained that the site is named after insomnia-fueled night time driving. And somehow my insomnia simply went away when I began working an 8-5 job after that. It has rarely plagued me in the past six years. But now I find myself here, rocking my peaceful and recently-fed baby to sleep at 10, midnight, and 2am. Not a(nother) creature is stirring, not dog nor dog nor cat nor husband nor son. And I feel alert enough to do calculus.

Insomnia,
We meet again. Welcome back old friend.

How important is it?

2011-11-10T08:45:00.000-06:00

Two days ago Rowan turned two weeks old. This is considered a milestone for mom and dad primarily, marking the end of the fiery initiation period which forges you into a parent. It's hard to believe it's been two weeks already, yet also hard to believe I've only had my son that long. It feels he has always been here.

When I try to summarize what motherhood has been like so far, a slogan from Al-Anon surfaces: "How important is it?" For instance is "it" worth forfeiting your serenity? Is it worth missing out on the moment you are in now? Sorting through a mountain of challenges in the past two weeks, I haven't found any that are more important than cherishing time with my husband and son.

Among these challenges are the very difficult delivery and ongoing recovery, a "who's on first?" type of comedically frustrating situation with adding Rowan and myself to Greg's insurance while trying to access post-partum appointments and prescriptions, the sleep deprivation inherent with raising a newborn, and trying to figure out a balance between my new responsibilities as a mom and other aspects of my life like my career, friendships, marriage and even being a pet owner. Admittedly there have been times in the past two weeks that Greg and I forgot to feed the pets all day. (As luck would have it, for about a week the dogs were so fascinated with the baby that they weren't eating their food anyway, so Sphinx began surviving on their left overs.)

Normally something like the insurance problem would consume me in a flurry of Internet research and complaining phone calls and emails. But I literally looked at the baby in my arms, and "How important is it?" echoed through my head. I really didn't want to spend an afternoon bullying my way through my new HMO, missing all of the cute new expressions and movements my four-day-old was making while sleeping. I resolved to pay full price at the doc and pharmacy if needed and then seek reimbursement once the insurance got itself sorted out. Turns out it resolved itself in time for all those appointments anyway.

On the other hand the question of importance rings out at 4am as well when I've been up with Rowan for several hours with back-to-back bouts of hunger and fussyness (which usually goes for both mom and baby). Even in my deliriously tired state I can usually remind myself how important what I am doing is. Weighed against my sons healthy and happy development, a few hours of displaced or missed sleep doesn't seem that significant. Besides Greg and I are so spoiled as parents. Rowan was born a great nurser and a great sleeper. Once I realized I need to wait to lay him down until he's settled into a deep sleep, or "floppy asleep" as Greg and I call this dead-weight state, Rowan hardly ever has marathon fussy times at night. In fact since birth he has always slept for one 3 hour and one 4.5 hour stretch at night. If I recall correctly there was even a 6 hour stretch one night from which I still had to wake him, fearing he was starving.

What's surprising is that an event as complex as becoming a parent can actually simplify your life. The "how important is it" test pretty easily separates the big things like family from everything else clamoring for your time and resources.

Rowan's Moms

2011-11-09T08:37:00.001-06:00

Sahara: Beautiful morning! What's our plan for the puppy today? I can take him on a walk.

Tracy meanwhile keeps bringing Rowan a blinky ball for him to throw for her.

K-9 Mama

2011-11-08T01:07:00.000-06:00

Quick before my iPhone destroys my post...

Sahara has become adorably maternal about the baby. Any time Rowan is crying and I can't get to him right away Sahara rushes to his side and begins whining in harmony with him (MMM MMM MMMMMMMMM....MMM MMM MMMMMMM) while frantically looking back at me, like "Look alive, people, there's something wrong with the puppy!!"

iPhone war

2011-11-08T00:50:00.001-06:00

I've written no less than 4 blogs with pics of the baby included which were eaten by my iPhone. Specifically it doesn't save drafts of emails written from within the share photos feature, so if you toggle out of there- to update your feeding/diapers log, check email or take a phone call for instance- your email is just gone. Even saving a draft is hit or miss. This is very frustrating. They werent destined for publication I guess.

You Might Be A New Mommy If

2011-11-05T04:17:00.001-05:00

When you check the time you also have to ascertain whether that's AM or PM

You spend 19 hours per day hauling around an 8 pound new little person, and wonder when you finally hoist yourself into bed why your wrist hurts.

It now takes you 8 hours to watch a one hour show.

You have tricked yourself into getting a few minutes of extra sleep by dreaming that you got out of bed to retrieve your crying baby. This causes you much confusion when you actually wake up carefully clutching a pillow and see your child still in his crib across the room. A wave of relief follows as this explains why the pillow seemed to not be breathing.

You never imagined you would discuss poop so enthusiastically and in so much detail.

Food is categorized in terms of the ability to be eaten one handed, palatability once the dish sat long enough to go cold, and ease of balancing a container on one hip or knee.

You have a hurried mental planning meeting with yourself immediately after feeding the baby in which you ask "Am I more tired or more hungry right now?" In case of being too tired or hungry to make that judgment, pick one at random to remedy.

You aren't sure how long it's been since you showered, but not because you can't remember when the last one was. You just don't know what day it is now.

You alternate between wanting nothing in the world more than a nap and opting not to nap in favor of watching how cute your baby is when he's sleeping. It's like a 24 hour game of "you hang up"
"no, you"
"you first"
"noooo...hehehee"
"on three"
<...>
"you didn't hang up."
"neither did you..."

Special Delivery

2011-10-28T08:25:00.000-05:00

Baby William,

So, going back to that bus analogy. It turns out that we didn't so much meander to the end of the bus line together as the bus got into a crash, was cut in half, and you were extracted by the jaws of life. What an ordeal, baby boy. We sure do have a knack for surviving unexpected adventures together. I promise that most of our adventures will be SO much more fun. I'm so excited to get out of the shop and start our new life, little one.

Love,
The Bus
(Mom)

Countdown Begins

2011-10-21T11:56:00.000-05:00

Baby William,

It is October 21. Congratulations- you have outlasted everyone's best guesses for when you would arrive. Even Mom and Dad's intuition is no match for William's mighty will. But fair warning- if you aren't out by Monday you'll be evicted! I have a feeling that you like to do things on your own timeline, so let's work together to make your surprise debut before then. I'll be walking around and eating pineapple, since I swear you almost found your way out when I ate a bunch of pineapple last month. You work on your getting born thing. It's really fun out here! Everyone gets to breathe air and get older and move their arms and legs freely. It's a hoot. Plus, free dog kisses EVERYDAY at our house. You'll love it. See you soon.

Mom

End O' the Line

2011-10-17T22:15:00.004-05:00

When I was in college in Austin, I was endlessly entertained by the bus system. To this day the cheery phrase "BING! Stop Requested!" makes me laugh. During college I had no car and learned to navigate public transit for the first time by trial and error. One memorable lesson took place on the night that I discovered that while many bus routes are loops (or consist of several routes looped together), some aren't. I was riding a bus aimlessly at midnight once like a homeless person because I needed some time away from campus and my cramped shared dorm. Driving at night was one of my absolute favorite activities, and without a car I figured riding at night would have to do. I was enjoying the night time views of the city meander by when the bus settled to a stop. I quickly realized I was the only person on the bus, save the driver who was looking at me warily. "This is the end of the line...." she said like a bartender shutting the place down. I looked at my handy bus schedule book (as this was before the days of smart phones). Yes, the route clearly ended at midnight in "the middle of nowhere." Specifically, it was in an unlit commercial section of north Austin near 183 that I wasn't familiar with. Dumped from the bus on a dark street corner, I recall using the map in the schedule book to locate any familiar sounding college-kid street which might possibly be populated at that hour. "North Lamar" sounded promising, so I attempted to appear dangerously self-assured as I walked in that general direction. There I found a 24 hour burger place complete with a 24 hour bus stop. And thus the adventure ended well.

As evidenced by my blog I'm anxiously awaiting the end of my current adventure.

To my soon-to-be-born son:
I know it's been a long comfy ride so far, but your destination is near. You are approaching what is known as "the end of the line." Your lease is up this month. Leaving your familiar surroundings may seem scary, but the adventure will end well. It will be the first of many good stories to be blogged about you.

PS- I have to say it. You'll soon learn that your mom has a tendency toward silly comments and cheesy puns. But you really, really don't have to wait until the 28th. Just signal ANYTIME and "BING, Stop Requested!"

Secret to Lawn Maintenance: Regular Water(melon)

2011-10-16T10:47:00.000-05:00

Granted, it had been a while since the back yard had been mowed. With the few rain showers we had recently to relieve the drought, Greg decided it was time to tackle the whole lawn this morning while temps were somewhat reasonable. Shortly after he began I heard a knock on the back door. I could see that underneath the generous coating of wet grass and flecks of sod, it was my hubby announcing he had found a surprise in one of the gardens. I carefully followed him through the soggy yard to the back corner where I expected to find a nest of baby birds. When Greg proudly presented the overgrown garden as the point of interest, I tried to spot any animals. "Ants?" I asked him, confused. "No...." he said, pointing to the sizable watermelon that I had completely overlooked as part of the weeds.

Apparently our new home comes with watermelons. Now for the real mystery though. Could that melon have been there the last time the back yard was mowed, about a month ago? Or could it grow to that size in a month during a record shattering drought?

In an odd coincidence, the baby is reportedly the size of a watermelon right now. Maybe it's a sign that I'll go into labor today. Greg was convinced of it even before the great watermelon discovery.

Birthday Still TBA

2011-10-13T23:35:00.001-05:00

William was not born yesterday. Usually that phrase is used sarcastically but this is a rare instance in which it can be used literally. William has yet to make his first appearance in the world. In fact yesterday my OB check up had to be rescheduled because the doc had just left to deliver the baby of another first time mom. So, yesterday surely was someone's birthday, it just wasn't William's. Greg is betting on Monday the 17th, and someone remarked to him that the father's intuition is often correct when it comes to predicting the arrival of the first baby. Then the next big date in the unofficial baby pool is October 20th, claimed by two friends. We shall see.

Birthday

2011-10-11T23:14:00.000-05:00

I don't know when my son's birthday is. Yet. But I had a dream several weeks ago that it would be tomorrow, October 12th. I know that it's coming soon because I've regained many of the mental faculties that I lost to "pregnancy brain." Once William began cooking, I couldn't even beat my husband at Scrabble. That's correct- a former English major lost to an engineer at Scrabble for eight whole months. I would lose track of whole ideas or people's names in the middle of conversation. I found myself forgetting dates and lists and leaving my keys and phone in the most random places. I would neglect to complete routine parts of the client's file at work and have to chase them down in the lobby for signatures or a quick briefing.

But as of a few weeks ago, I won Scrabble again as nature always intended. Then I began winning some of the complicated and time consuming board games that we play. I even beat Greg at one particular game for the first time that is based on the principles of manufacturing engineering. I began to be able to do math in my head- something I've never been good at in the first place. This past week I even won a football pick 'em pool. And quite strangely, today at the bank while endorsing a check, an odd account number materialized from my hand as though the pen was possessed with the ghost of lives past. It was an account I had closed five years ago and not thought of or used since, but for some unknown reason that eight digit number was illuminated to the exclusion of all else in my mind.

Yes, prepare the crib! Gather the onesies! Ready the Longhorns blanket! William will be here soon.

Twilight (Parking) Zone

2011-10-11T00:18:00.000-05:00

Today I was on my daily walk at our community's private dog park. The pups love to run off energy there, and judging by the increased Braxton Hicks contractions, walking is helping me to prepare for and encourage labor. As usual I was at the park alone since I visit during the middle of the work day. But today after I had been there about 15 minutes, a woman entered the park with her Collie dog. I alerted Sahara and Tracy to their new friend, and I walked toward the human visitor to say hello.

"Is that your car out there?" she asked as I approached.
"Um, yes," I said, looking toward where I had parallel parked Sheila on the street.
"There's a police officer parked behind you. I don't know what he's doing.... Maybe he's just waiting for someone?" she said.
"Oooh.... I better go check on it....?" I replied hesitantly. The park has no designated parking, and everyone parallel parks outside. On the weekends there are typically 4-5 cars lined up there. Being there alone today, I was able take my favorite spot along the curb-- close to the park entrance and far from the nearest fire hydrant. I figured the officer must be waiting for someone, but I walked out there to be sure.

I found a white SUV marked "constable" containing one uniformed officer idling behind my car. There was no ticket on Sheila, so I made some hand signals to him and he motioned for me to approach his passenger side window to talk.

"Is this your car?" he asked seriously.
"Yes?" I replied.
"It's parked illegally in a lane of traffic," he informed me. "You are lucky I waited for you for.....twelve minutes...." he said gesturing to the clock. "Any longer and I would have to tow this car."
"Oh well I appreciate that...." I responded, becoming anxious. "I'm at the dog park here....do you know where is a good place to park for it?" I asked.
"You'll have to take that up with park management," he said sternly.
"Oh ok. Well I appreciate you waiting for me. I'll move the car," I concluded, really just wanting to be out of this officer's crosshairs. I saw Sahara and Tracy watching me anxiously from behind the park fence. I pulled into a nearby section of the subdivision and parked at the first home for sale that I found. Then I walked my 37.5 week-pregnant-behind back to the dog park to process all this.

The other dog owner was still there, and I told her what happened. She was shocked and as a long-time resident she said that parking there has always been allowed. In fact, all of the amenities in the subdivision utilize street parking without incident. I said I'll contact the HOA to clarify the parking situation, and in the meantime we could warn other dog park patrons about what happened. Then I excused myself because I didn't want the residents of the fancy neighborhood section that I parked in to tow my car either.

At home I wrote a thoughtful email to my HOA rep about the incident. I emphasized that at almost 38 weeks pregnant, the hike back to the park was difficult and having my car towed unexpectedly could have been a serious disaster. I received a phone call from the concerned HOA right away. Much to my alarm, I was told:

--Our HOA contracts with the constable's office for regular patrol of the area, and parallel parking is allowed per the terms. The HOA knows all of the constables who work the area, and they have never enforced any parallel parking violations at the park, INCLUDING TODAY.
--The HOA spoke to the constable who was on duty today and he was not the one who spoke to me.
--The vehicle that I described is not one used by our constable's patrol. No one knows who it was.

What the.....?? I immediately thought of a local news story from a few years ago in which a man commissioned a set of car decals exactly replicating a nearby police department's car markings. The decal shop became suspicious and called the police department directly to check the guy out, and it turned out he was a police impersonator. Cases of police impersonation are surprisingly numerous, though usually not as elaborate as to include a marked car. Apparently the Houston PD police impersonator squad handles 220 cases each year.

I realize that I've been watching a lot of Law and Order while on bed rest. I had another suspicious incident just two weeks ago, so maybe in my condition I'm a bit more jumpy and hormonal than normal. It's most likely that a new constable from another beat was passing through the subdivision and decided to confront me. But the things that stick in my mind are:

Why wait for me for twelve minutes?
Why didn't he identify himself?
Why threaten to tow and not issue a ticket?

He never actually did anything that proves he was legit. In hindsight, considering the possibility that he wasn't legit, requiring me to move my car far from the park made me very vulnerable. I was separated from my means of transportation and walking alone from the subdivision to the unpopulated main road and park. I have to wonder if things would have gone very differently if that woman hadn't showed up and witnessed my interaction with this guy. Or if I wasn't pregnant. While it's a relatively safe bet that someone who is alone at a park in the middle of a work day will be a woman, my humongous pregnant belly would likely be an unwelcome surprise to a predator.

I may never know for sure if this guy was legit or not. But it was very, very strange.

QOTD

2011-10-08T00:54:00.004-05:00

Thankfully this week the doctor authorized me to be more mobile. Specifically, I don't need to lie around all day; I can walk freely now that I'm technically full term. I've had a wonderful week filled with more than just TV watching! Today Greg and I attended our long-standing weekly Friday night bible study for the first time in about six weeks. Seeing all of my friends' children yielded several enjoyable quotes of the day. One occurred before I even arrived, as the almost-three-year-old who has been hearing I'm on 'bed rest' for the last six weeks insisted, "No, Lisa's not coming over tonight cuz she's sleeping."

The two four year olds in attendance had an unending supply of entertaining conversation.

Addison: "I'm glad at how your tummy is going."
Jared: "Your tummy is getting SUPER big because you're growing babies in there."
Addison: "Yeah I'm excited to see how your baby looks. I mostly think it's a girl."
Me: "Well I think it's a boy. And there's just one baby in there."
Jared: "What is your baby called?"
Me: "William."
Jared: "William and William?"
Me: "No just one for now."
Jared (thinking):"Will you have two babies someday?"
Me: "Maybe. Do you think he should have a sister or a brother?"
Jared (pondering his own two older sisters and a younger brother): "A sister."
Me: "Why is that?"
Jared: "Baby brothers just do *whatever* they want. They be loud and knock things over and break things. Better to have a sister."

Jared, starting a new dinner conversation: "My Daddy goes to work in his car. Lisa, does Greg go to work?"
Me: "Yes, he does. He does the same thing as your dad."
Jared listed everyone he knows who goes to work.
Me: "That's neat. I go to work too!"
Jared, quite shocked: "Reeaallly?"
Me: "Yup."
Jared: "Did you go to work when you were growing your baby?"
Me: "Yup, I was at work and growing my baby each day too. Are you going to go to work when you grow up?"
Jared became very interested in the dinner he was picking at.
Me: "You're not sure?"
Jared: "I'm thinking." Remaining undecided about his career choice, Jared instead answered,"I'm going to have a truck before I do that though." (Jared is fascinated with all trucks, especially Greg's and his grandfather's.) "Pawpaw used to have a old truck. Greg still has a old truck."
Me: "Do you think Greg should get a new truck?"
Jared. "Yes but I hope he doesn't get the same one. Not a Toyota."
Me, as I burst out laughing. I didn't know he, the four-year-old, knew the make of Greg's truck, which he's never been in and only ever seen sitting in his parents driveway: "What should he get instead?"
Jared: "A 4x4x4x4."
Me: "But we like Toyotas because Toyotas don't break."
Jared ponders a moment. "Do Fords break?"
Me: "Yes." (Though I quickly decided against teaching him that FORD stands for Found on Road Dead)
Jared (after more pondering): "Well I want a Ford."
Me: "Well, maybe yours won't break."

October!?

2011-10-02T23:14:00.000-05:00

Welcome, Month of October. This month I will have a son. I'll be a mom. The local population will be +1. I've had several dreams that he was born early, including today and October 12. My husband's bet is on October 17. But we all agree he will be here in time for Halloween.

He'll need a different costume.

Fun With Subtitles: Bed Rest Foreign Movie Reviews

2011-09-29T16:53:00.001-05:00

My Netflix streaming queue is almost empty. Once I watch the last three movies in it I'll decide whether to switch to a DVD only plan or to cancel altogether like the million other customers they've lost over the past few months. I've been procrastinating about watching these last films though because they are all subtitled. I have spent most of my time watching marathons of DVR'ed Law and Order and Burn Notice instead, which I can pay half-attention to while also playing spider solitaire or mahjong or some other activity meant to deter me from leaving my designed bed-rest post on the couch. I'm rarely disappoitned when I finally summon the patience to watch one of these foreign films though. Some recent good ones:

Tell No One (French) This was a suspenseful murder-mystery. Even Greg enjoyed it! But it was hilarious to see the level of "violence" portrayed in this French film as compared to what we are accustomed to seeing from Hollywood. Apparently in France an enraged, belligerent suburbanite can walk up to a band of thugs and punch a gangster in the face and suffer only angry words and empty threats in return. Cute.

The Island (Russian) This was a strange movie but very well done. It tells the story of an eccentric, guilt-ridden old monk who seems to have powers of prophesy, exorcism, and healing. The story is slow but compelling, and the harsh, unforgiving landscape beautifully mirrors the monk's pain. Though it seems to be common for these types of austere, metaphorical movies to have an ambiguous ending, this film provides a satisfying conclusion.

Jodhaa Akbar (Hindi) At 3.5 hours, this may be the longest movie I've ever watched. It actually has an intermission built into the film. I admit I almost did not watch it because the first 20 minutes were all history and battles. I find battles to be SO boring and difficult the follow...I even skip out on simple fight scenes in movies to go get snacks. But I stuck it out just long enough to realize that the rest of the movie was a beautiful love story with a strong, sword-fighting princess as the female lead. It was worth the time.

A Christmas Tale (French) I found this movie to be forgettable. I have literally forgotten how it ended. It explores all of the facets of dysfunctionality within an extended family brought together for Christmas. Psychologically, it would be a good case study for Adlerian theories of birth order or the function of scape-goating to preserve a family unit. But as a movie I didn't find anything particularly compelling or entertaining in the story.

Rambles

2011-09-28T23:25:00.005-05:00

My sleep schedule is all over the place. Some nights I sleep "normally," meaning my pre-bed rest routine of about 10 to 6. Some nights William kicks me awake through 2am. And some days I have the most annoying irresistible sleep attacks which last 2 hours or so, most often when I've been sleeping normally the days before. And then I can't sleep that night. :-/ Today was one such day.

The most exciting thing that happened today was that I was awakened from my unwelcome nap by a stranger knocking on the front door. When I sleepily ignored it, I saw him proceed to walk around to my back yard. I switched into Madea mode.

I don't own a gun- they scare me actually. But I figured out where my mace was and I encouraged the dogs to continue to bark ferociously as I looked out the window for more clues. There was a pest control company truck out front, and the mystery man rounded the corner of my house just then and saw me looking at him through the window. "Hmm," I thought... "Hide, mace, or dogs?" The truck was somewhat reassuring, and I assumed he was just advertising his services, but walking around the side of the home was concerning. "Dogs," I decided, obviously still groggy because in hindsight I should have had my mace in hand.

The man again approached the front door, having seen me at the window. I opened the door wide enough to speak to him and allow two big dog heads to pop out barking. He explained that the previous home owner used his service and he wasn't aware that the home had been sold. I replied that it was in fact sold and we aren't interested in the service. I let the dogs push through the door up to their shoulders, and the man apologized and left. I wandered around the house for a minute blinking and trying to recover from my sleep attack, but I decided I was generally satisfied with having addressed the intruder. I suppose he may have walked to the side of the house to start the pest control treatment...but he was not carrying any equipment. If he was lying and checkin' the place out (you know, "casing the joint" and whatnot) and he returns, I'm going to let Sahara and Tracy take a bite out of crime. I made my mace handy too. Don't mess with a pregnant lady, folks...I'll protect my cub even if he's not born yet.

Puppy Wars

2011-09-21T20:01:00.003-05:00

I'm watching my parent's dogs all week, and I'm happy to have the company. I expected that they would keep my pets, who have "sympathy lethargy," on their toes (or paws). It turns out they are also keeping me on my toes (or feet), literally. Instead of laying around on bed rest, Monday and Tuesday I found myself traipsing around the house cleaning up surprise pee-spots and keeping a lookout for new ones. I figured I knew just how to deal with this. On Tuesday I instituted mandatory potty breaks for the dogs on the hour. Despite this effort, a spot reappeared on Tuesday. Then I realized that one of the dogs wasn't taking full advantage of the potty breaks due to a stubborn aversion to walking in dewy grass.

So today I had an entire treatment plan made including behavior shaping and conditioning. First, I desensitized the dog to the wet grass by having her walk through it until she relaxed. I hoped that no neighbors were watching from a second story window during the first part of this treatment in which the dog was alternating between desperately pulling back on her leash and hopping around erratically like a gazelle as I insisted that she continue to progress through the yard. Eventually she relaxed, panting contentedly and smiling despite the wet grass.

Next I waited, dog treat in hand, for the target response to occur- peeing on the grass. This took much longer than I anticipated. It took several separate tours of the yard spaced over several hours. But eventually, SUCCESS! The dog was allowed off the leash and I haven't cleaned up any pee spots all day! However, I did hit a snag in the treatment.

When I returned from a doctor's appointment today, I found my purple pill reminder box torn to shreds and carefully selected pills eaten from it. All of the DHA/fish oil capsules were eaten, whereas the regular prenantal pill and heartburn meds were left on the floor. Not to worry- this shouldn't harm the pup. The "newly reconditioned" dog is the prime suspect as she is a known chewer. We will address this resistance in tomorrow's session.

I think I have too much time on my hands.

Canine Therapy

2011-09-19T15:18:00.003-05:00

All of my puppies and my parents puppies are busy protecting me while I'm immobile on bed rest. Of course, there is not much to protect me from at the house, so mostly they end up nosing and shoving each other around for the right to sit on my belly and incubate baby William. Sometimes I can persuade them to leave me long enough to chase a ball or have a hilarious play fight over a nearby toy, which provides me with a little entertainment. Other than that, I'm putting all my effort into staying still, exhausting my Netflix queue and watching Law and Order on cable.

Insomnia

2011-09-16T00:20:00.003-05:00

My third trimester is now equipped with a new, bothersome pregnancy symptom- insomnia. It's quite a good thing that I am on bed rest and not attending work because I seem to be incapable of getting to sleep before midnight. While I was awake one night this week I found this article on the subject. I can positively say that all of the factors listed there are issues for me, most notably the pre-baby excitement/planning/anxiety. Being kicked incessantly by my growing baby is a close second, and gastro-intestinal, nerve, and muscle aches of all kinds compose a formidable third. Yet knowing this doesn't help to alleviate the problem. None of the typical advice has helped (including advice I've often given to other people myself). Sometimes insomnia is simply an unbeatable force that won't be scared away by a little journal writing or glass of milk.

I recalled writing a blog on the joys of playing solitaire when insomnia-stricken. Incidentally, night time solitaire has lost its charm now that I play it 8 hours a day in an attempt to follow bed rest guidelines and stay off my feet. But I was amazed to learn that I wrote that blog SIX YEARS AGO. Ironically in that same post I wrote that time seemed to pass more quickly as I got older. Six years later I'd say that observation has proven itself to be true. Next year both my car and my Bachelor's degree will be ten years old! I'll be *almost* three decades old. And I'll be "a mom," which is both weird to me and seems completely natural at the same time, because I truly feel like I've been a mom for the past 9 months already. Especially when I'm trying to sleep or, having given up on that, trying to write a blog, and I inquire aloud of my unborn son, "William....what are you DOING in there," after the edge of my laptop has unexpectedly leapt an inch or two in the air. I'm convinced that my son has a strict exercise schedule posted on the walls of my stomach that reads something like,

Jazzercize- 10PM

Aerobics, beginner 11PM

Kickboxing 12AM

Aerobics, advanced 1AM

Yoga 2AM-4AM (I can usually sleep here)

Gymnastics 5-6:30AM

Sleep 6:30AM.....Suddenly he's calm once it's "time" for me to be awake, and I'm forced to choose between napping during the day, thereby slowing becoming a nocturnal creature, or trying to keep myself awake while on monotonous bed rest in a stubborn battle of wills with my uterus-bound child.

The 1AM glass of milk....if it won't put me to sleep at least it will stop my heartburn.

Bed Rest Movie Reviews 2:3

2011-09-12T19:43:00.003-05:00

Bed rest continues. Netflix to the rescue!

4 months 3 weeks, and 2 Days is a movie about two women seeking an illegal abortion in Romania in the 80's. I would describe the film as harsh but honest because of its straightforward portrayal of the situation. Despite including a graphic view of the aborted fetus, the movie doesn't seem to take a side on the abortion issue overtly. Mirroring the terminated pregnancy, the film seems to stop abruptly before an intellectual or emotional conclusion is reached. Reviewers have used the film to support both pro-life and pro-choice views. Several critics were surprised that this film wasn't considered for an Oscar in the Best Foreign Language Film category, and they attributed this to the shocking shot of the fetus. I disagree because much more graphic films than this one have won awards. I think the award snub may be due to the nagging feeling that something was missing from the film; while their handling of this sensitive issue was unique and skillful, I was disappointed not be left with a clear message or impression after watching this relatively intense movie.

The Other Side of Heaven is a movie distributed by Disney about a young American missionary to Tonga. I started watching it out of curiousity because I don't think I've ever seen a blatently Christian film by Disney. It turns out there is a reason for that. This was a very cheesy and shallow movie portraying the humor and sorrows involved in an "idealistic Caucasian" encountering "the simplistic natives" in a far away land. These kinds of movies unfortunately perpetuate the "us vs. them" mentality that people of very different cultures, ethnicities, and religions from one's own are comically primitive and are somehow woefully in need of instruction from a foreigner who has not bothered to learn anything about their culture or language. My boredom overruled my curiousity after about 40 minutes and I turned it off.

Sin Nombre- I love watching Spanish language movies and someday I hope to be able to follow them without subtitles. This film is a graphic look at complicated social issues like gang violence and immigration in Central America. The film style wasn't particularly unique or beautiful but the story was compelling and well-told. The movie collected several nominations and wins for Best Foreign Film in 2009 and 2010.

Bed Rest Movie Reviews 2:2

2011-09-12T01:03:00.002-05:00

The Cave of the Yellow Dog is a Mongolian language film dubbed in English about a young girl from a nomadic family who adopts a stray dog. The family's lifestyle is fascinating because though lacking modern technology and indoor plumbing, the whole family is comfortably occupied with complex tasks of daily living. I found myself wishing I could experience their life, maybe just for a summer.

Man on Wire is a documentary about French tightrope walker Philippe Petit who executed an illegal public stunt in 1974 by walking between the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Petit himself narrated most of the film. He comes across as both capricious and erratic, but also disciplined and fiercely dedicated to his art. As a post-9/11 viewer, one picture of Petit against the sky with a plane in the background was particularly haunting. I couldn't help but think what would happen if he tried an unauthorized stunt at an American landmark today- I don't think he would have survived.

Extreme Measures- I found this medical conspiracy movie starring Hugh Grant available in Netflix streaming. I like Grant's movies, though this is probably the first one I've seen that isn't a romantic comedy. The plot was actually pretty interesting, and the medical part of the story involved neurology, which I love.

Tangled- Yes, Greg and I watched this kid's movie based on the story of Rapunzel. It was alright, but we readily admit that we are cartoon snobs; we really only like Pixar flicks.

Bed Rest Movie Reviews: Round 2

2011-09-12T01:00:00.001-05:00

I am back on bed rest until my baby boy arrives in October. My Netflix queue is still mostly populated with the more obscure titles from Christianity Today's annual "Best of" film recommendations since I watched the blockbusters first, so the movie selection has been interesting. Greg has been a great sport and even watched some foreign and indie films with me. I'll share some thoughts on the things I have seen recently, and if anyone has feedback, please share!

The Devil Came on Horseback- This is a documentary based on a book of the same title about the conflict in Darfur. The movie is narrated by the author of the book, former US marine Brian Steidle, who documented the violence firsthand when he was hired to monitor the cease fire in Sudan in 2004. The film was graphic and very informative. It juxtaposed the progression of the violence that Steidle discovered with Steidle’s personal transformation from observer to political activist.

Paranoid Park- This movie is based on a fictional book about a skateboarding teenager who accidentally kills a security guard. The film is narrated by the teenage main character, so the language is refreshingly casual and simple. It was interesting to me as a psychology nerd, because in some ways it seemed like a short modern version of Crime and Punishment. I was disappointed with the ending though, but as my husband reminded me from behind his game of Plants and Zombies, “that’s what you get for watching indie films.”

Half Nelson- This is yet another “unlikely friendship” story featuring a dynamic Caucasian teacher who befriends an inner city youth and tries to protect her from the hazards and temptations of her social environment. What saves this movie from being a terrible cliché is that rather than being a naïve idealist, the teacher is addicted to hard drugs himself. Replacing the typical unrealistic dichotomy between virtue and evil is a continuous challenge to viewers to tolerate a “good person doing bad things” and a “bad person doing good things.”

30 Before 30 Update

2011-09-02T12:04:00.001-05:00

It has been a year since I outlined my plans for 30 Before 30. I've had so much fun completing these over the last few months, and I have a great start on my list! Of course, my pregnancy requires a little planning and shuffling of activities, as I certainly won't be hiking the Grand Canyon in October when the baby is due. (I also don't think that I could justify hiking as part of my doctor ordered bed rest.) I think I'll save riding on a small plane, visiting relatives, hiking the Canyon, and snowboarding for after I'm a mom.

On the other hand, applying to PhD programs (August 2011) is undoubtedly easier while I'm on bed rest with ample free time. I have found that many programs are not accepting applications currently though, including some programs that are frozen indefinitely and others which have delayed the application opening dates to December or later. In the meantime I'm determined to research whether the time and money involved in various PhD's has a sufficient pay off in the end in terms of expanded career prospects and earnings. The data actually hasn't been so promising! In my field ("social sciences," "mental health," and the "helping professions") the pay is already notoriously low. There seems to be a pattern of diminishing returns when the potential earnings for a diploma, BA, MA, and PhD are compared. It's quite possible that the level I'm at- the Master's degree- is the optimal as far as cost-to-benefit ratio. Still, my goal remains to apply and see what happens. I'm also looking forward to getting feedback about PhD prospects from my former professors and co-workers from grad school-- again, once I'm off of bed rest and mobile again. In preparation for applying I also finally resubmitted my article for publication today (March 2012). Fourth time's a charm! If it is rejected (again) I have at least one more journal that I plan to try.

2010
Sept Hair cut	9/22/10 Zen
Oct Register with BetheMatch	9/22/10 BetheMatch
Nov Do 2nd Triathlon	10/10/10 Cypress Medical Center 10/24/10 Katy Firethorn
Dec Visit Another country	12/15/10-12/17/10 Honduras, Belize, Mexico

2011
Jan Volunteer with outreach ministry	11/2010 Thanksgiving food drive 12/2010 Christmas box for Honduras
Feb Visit Sharon in LA	10/15/10 to 10/18/10 LA to Houston
Mar Ride on small plane
Apr MS 150	4/16/11-4/17/11 Houston to Austin
May Go on a cruise	12/12/10 Royal Caribbean
Jun Go kayaking	12/17/10 Cozumel
Jul Visit relatives in Minnesota
Aug Apply to PhD/PsyD
Sep Try small group at church	9/25/10 Sacred Marriage
Oct Hike the grand canyon
Nov Volunteer Initiatives Ride Along	Scheduled: Fall 2011
Dec Snowboard again

2012
Jan Teach an adjunct class
Feb Have parTAY	5/2011, 8/2011
Mar Publish my article	Submitted: 9/2011 (pending)
Apr Play a round of golf	11/7/10
May Become a certified Red Cross volunteer
Jun Go tubing
Jul Dog training class
Aug Take a motorcycle lesson
Sep Finish my 3 year supply of "Best of" movies	Watching: 44 done, 60 more to go
Oct Study Spanish and take bi-lingual test at work	Studying: no test available
Nov Get Distance ED certification
Dec Drive Sheila over 200,000 miles	4/15/11

2013
Jan Finish Jordan series	Waiting: Publish the final book already….
Feb Reduce debt by 75%	Saving: 72.45% done!

600th Post: Pet's Birthdays!!

2011-09-01T16:03:00.014-05:00

Though neither Greg and I or our pets had met each other yet, we both happened to adopt our furry family members in 2007. Based on the vets' estimates, all of our precious pets seem to have been born around September of 2006, so we designated September 1 as their official birthday. Today our babies turn FIVE!!! Time goes so fast. The pets have objected to how they have spent their birthday so far, so their "now" pictures are adorably grumpy.

Sahara in 2007, having just gotten used to her new home.....

....was unexpectedly accosted in a manner which was later described to her in disturbingly congratulatory tones as a "her first bath."

Today, having discovered that fur all along her neck was matted together by some unknown sticky substance, I subjected Sahara to about her 130th bath. She's still not a fan. Being the first of the month, Sahara's birthday also falls on heartworm/flea med day, or Dramatic Pouting Day, an art which Sahara has perfected.

"Seriously I wasn't THAT dirty and I didn't need a bath and life's SO unfair."

Sphinx was so little when I first brought her home.....

...but when she met Sahara, I found that her spirit more than made up for her small size.

Though she didn't get a bath today (that would be world-ending), she had a dramatic earful for me about how long she was stuck outside in the heat (about 15 minutes). She also hasn't had her flea meds yet since it's a topical treatment absorbed through the skin; while I'm pregnant "Dad" has to be the one to ambush Sphinx and pour stinky medicine between her shoulder blades. We'll see what else Sphinx has to say once she's trying in vain to reach around and remove that dreaded medicine from her fur.

"Ok, I'm thinking we need a system for when I go outside, mkay? I spend all my time looking around for nice geckos and snakes to bring to you, and I shouldn't have to wait to be let back inside, panting and looking foolish."

And of course Tracy. I didn't meet Tracy until 2008, but like any good parent, Greg has ample photographic evidence of her puppyhood.

I am told that as a puppy, Tracy enjoyed baths. I think that once she was introduced to real swimming in lakes and pools, baths became a begrudged substitute. Tracy shares Sahara's disgruntled view on the day so far.

"Ok, so, howcome I had to have a bath....I didn't need no bath....Sahara was the one who was all sticky.....and so, I'm ignoring you, can you tell...."

To all of my favorite mamminals....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRUMPY PANTS!!!

Return of Bed Rest

2011-08-27T11:03:00.008-05:00

As of Thursday I am back on bed rest at home. This time it will last until the end of the pregnancy. For now this is a welcome change from the busy pace that I have kept with work and home. I'm learning lots of interesting things about pregnancy and an associated condition that I seem to be developing called pre-eclampsia. As I noted in a recent post, I've watched with interest as my feet, legs, and now arms have ballooned up over the past few months. When it first started, I thought it was a pretty dramatic change, especially looking at my ankles. Little did I know that amount of swelling, or edema, was only "kinda bad" as compared to what it would develop into. On a scale of slight, 1+, to 4+, my doctor rated me at a 1 here.

The rating of the edema in my case is based on how bad the "pitting" is, or how deep an impression can be made and how long it stays there-- usually a matter of seconds. Mine began to stay for minutes.

My doctor prescribed the use of T.E.D. hose, or thrombo embolic deterrent stockings. These are compression stockings for the legs that are used to promote circulation. I had to wear these during my previous bed rest to decrease the risk of blood clots while the legs were inactive, but they also should help with swelling. In theory. While I've seen a little reduction, my swelling still earns the highest rating (4+) currently even with the hose. The pic below is when I was wearing the stockings (covered by thin black socks cuz I was at work), when the swelling still turned my foot into a brick of retained water.

Being on bed rest with my feet up should reduce the swelling-- again, in theory. It really hasn't helped much so far. I guess my swelling is as stubborn and determined as I am. I've gotten used to it though, and that's not the primary reason for the bed rest. Severe swelling like this can be associated with the condition pre-eclampsia because it may signal that the blood vessels in the body are constricting, pushing fluid out the cells. This will cause high blood pressure and possibly other problems, including pushing fluid out from the uterus or around the baby. The condition can be dangerous as it progresses. In addition to the swelling, I've had some indications of the other two hallmarks of pre-eclampsia-- increasing blood pressure and some physiological changes detected in lab tests. The bed rest, then, is prescribed in hopes of slowing the progression of these symptoms, since mine are not very bad yet aside from the swelling.

So, it's back to puzzles, books, and Netflix for me. While it's hard for me to refrain from busily cleaning and bustling around, I actually prefer the bed rest over waddling everywhere and lugging my belly around at work. I don't know if it's normal pregnancy fatigue or my additional symptoms, but I can't walk between two rooms without getting winded nowadays. It became comical at work that I would start off each assessment trying, very professionally, to catch my breath after walking the client back to my office. Bring on the bed rest.

To Do

2011-08-02T07:50:00.000-05:00

The quote from my desk calendar today is so true. Greg and I have been so incredibly busy packing, doing house loan paperwork, switching utilities over, registering for baby goods, and working our regular jobs and lives that yesterday I just had to have a break. I didn't go to LPC supervision. I didn't cook dinner. I didn't pack. I went home after work and placed my huge clown feet on top of two couch cushions for 3 hours. And Greg and I ate ice cream while watching TV. Now I have the energy to pick the mad pace back up again.

"Pregnancy is Beautiful"

2011-07-30T15:38:00.002-05:00

Oh, the harsh reality of swollen feet. I have one pair of work-appropriate shoes that have minimal contact with my feet- just a ring of material covering my toes. This allows my marshmellow feet space to balloon up throughout the day. Even so, my puffy skin spills over the loose material, impressing a line. A second indentation where my foot meets my leg is unavoidable. While my skin normally (pre-pregnancy) navigates this upward curve with no problem, when inflated it actually has to crease to make the angle. I find that my legs are often swollen as well, making it nearly impossible to cross my legs while sitting, and quite a challenge even to hoist one shin to rest atop my opposite knee. To accomplish this task, I pull the shin atop my knee by my pant leg. Then I rest my foot against my desk to keep the inflated leg from rebounding against itself and slipping off of my knee every 2 seconds. I don't jam my foot against the desk, mind you. The desk is merely there to stop the leg from going anywhere. And the 3 centimeter deep gouge pictured below is the result after about 25 minutes of sitting. It remains indented for about 15 minutes. The swelling overall takes about 8 hours of elevation (during sleep) to dissipate almost completely, but not actually all the way. When I wake up it's still stiff and uncomfortable to flex my feet.

Neeeeedless to say, I am uncomfortable for a great part of my day. Some of my maternity pants are unwearable because of the size that my calves become by about 10am onward. And I'm pretty sure that wearing tennis shoes or anything except sandals and these work shoes are all I will be able to wear for the remaining 3 months of pregnancy. Beautiful.

Why did the ducks cross the road?

2011-07-16T08:47:00.003-05:00

I don't know, they wouldn't tell me. But they were really happy when I retrieved the old bread from the house to feed them.

"I left a little late for work because I had breakfast for quackers."
"Crackers for breakfast?"
"No, no. Breakfast for quackers."

The Return of Cooking

2011-07-08T12:07:00.000-05:00

I'm back to my normal routine and have finally been able to use the wonderful Pampered Chef goodies and other wedding/reception gifts that my family and friends got for me. I love it!! On the menu recently has been:

"Josh's" Pizza Dip (the recipes' biggest fan was included in the official recipe name in the official bible study cook book)
Chocolate chip cookies
Southwest Beef and Bean Casserole
Crescent Rolls (ok not from scratch but they were used to break in a pampered chef stone baking sheet)
'Pasgetti (Greg made this)
Deviled Eggs
Potato Skins
Baked Potato Soup
Portaballa Mushroom with Goat Cheese (that's pretty much the recipe)
Artichoke Dip

Coming soon:
Chocolate Mousse
Lentils and Rice
Learning to cook with tofu and polenta

My Husband the Superhero

2011-06-29T14:37:00.012-05:00

When Greg and I got married, we mostly kept his electronics because they were in better condition than my own. Since then, Greg has frequently come to my rescue, responding to bellows like, "The TV doesn't have any sound again!" (the stereo needs to be turned on and fiddled with) and "I think I broke the Wii."

Last week I implored Greg to help me fix my expansion drive.

When I was unplugging the mini-USB from the drive last week, the port simply fell off inside the case of the drive and was jingling around loose in there. That is the only port used to access the drive, so I was a little bit screwed. It holds absolutely all of my pictures from the last 4 years as well as all of my music. There is no back-up, since the reason I use it in the first place is that my laptop hard drive is terribly small by today's standards. The most frustrating things:

--The hard drive works fine. There's just no way to access the data.

--The manufacturer's warranty covers replacement but not data recovery.

--This (the USB port falling off) is a very common occurrence (examples online abound)

We faced a choice to either open the external case, completely voiding the warranty, in hopes of repairing it ourselves; turning the drive in for replacement and losing all of my valuable data; or paying a unreasonable amount of money for various data recovery specialists, also voiding the warranty. Ultimately we couldn't pass up the opportunity to take something expensive apart and see what happens. I let my favorite geeky husband handle the procedure.

Inside the plastic case is another case protecting the drive.

The drive has an attachment containing the power plug and USB port. It turns out, this is the only thing that distinguishes an external hard drive from a computer's internal drive.

On ours, the port where you plug the mini USB....

....is completely detached from the circuit board. We were in no position to try soldering to repair it.

But again, this drive is the same thing that lives inside a desktop computer. In fact, we found out it's the exact same part number as the hard drive already in Greg's computer. Greg put his computer-building experience to work and determined what kind of power cord we needed in order to make this into a second internal hard drive on Greg's computer. One trip to Fry's and $2.50 later, the transformation was complete! I could access all of my pictures and songs via Greg's desktop, which is now equipped with TWO terabytes of memory.

Professor Sahara says:

Positively all of the measurable outcomes that we sought were achieved. We consider the procedure a resounding success.

Back to Work

2011-06-28T16:38:00.001-05:00

Though I returned to work last Monday, this week marks my true return to the normal schedule because I started the week with a 14 hour day. As is customary, I sang along happily with Bruno Mars' "The Lazy Song" which always comes on the radio during my hour long drive home from LPC supervision. I vowed along with Bruno that "today I don't feel like doing ANYTHING; I'm just going to lay in my bed..." knowing very well that my work week stretches out ahead of me and I can do no such thing. Still, it makes me feel good to belt out this silly anthem after such an impossibly long day. Plus I am comforted that I got the one longer work day out of the way for the whole week. The others are piddly 12 hour days.

With my return to work, there was a triumphant return of Quotes of the Day. I love holding onto little comments that my clients make that I find interesting, endearing, or just hilarious. New to my collection are:

Mom: Pick your bottle cap up.
Son: No!
Mom: Yes. Pick your bottle cap up.
Son: Make her do it! (pointing to me)

Client (with a longstanding history of mental illness): Can I use the bathroom?
Me: Sure. We have to keep them locked for client safety though so ask the security guard to open it for you.
Client: Oh yeah, for safety. That's a good idea cuz some of these people be CRAZY!!

Me: Any criminal history?
Client: Yes! Felonies out the butt!

Mom to toddler: Tell the lady how old you are.
Toddler gets out of his stroller and talks across the room to me very seriously. He grabs the door handle and with a face covered in pop tart crumbs says, "I'm ready to leave this place."

A six year old is playing quietly on the linoleum floor when he lets a big toot rip, which reverberates in the small office. He stands up and faces his mother immediately, proudly exclaiming, "I FARTED!"

And today I received the first comment on my pregnancy by a client.
Client: There must be something in the water here.
Me: (realizing she noticed the clinician in the office across from mine is also very pregnant) Oh, yeah, everyones saying that!
Client: I'll be sure not to drink the water.

Bed Rest Movie Reviews 7.....My Last??

2011-06-14T07:39:00.002-05:00

This could be the last review because bed rest might be lifted at the end of this week!

Super 8: Great movie! I thought the story, memorable characters, and the casual art of the dialogue were consistent with writer and director JJ Abrams' style, reminiscent of his awesome TV series Lost. I felt that the special effects were very Spielberg, so much so that every single time Greg and I saw a preview for the movie we thought it was for the new Transformers flick. Greg thought the opposite of the movie, however- that the special effects were Similar to Abrams' action scenes in Lost, and the compelling story was reminiscent of Spielberg's ET. I still maintain that the credit for the story telling belongs to writer and director Abrams though. See the movie and weigh in on it!!

Catfish: This movie apparently caused quite a splash at the Sundance Film Festival recently. My sister recommended this movie to me and my siblings but instructed us not to read any summaries, reviews, or previews of the film beforehand. It's a very interesting movie, and I'd recommend the same blind approach to anyone who wants to watch it. I wonder how JJ Abrams was involved in the project, as he's given special thanks at the end.

Jurassic Park: Greg and I both read the books before seeing this movie back in the day. It was fun to rewatch it on cable this weekend. We were impressed that considering it's a 17 year old movie, the special effects hold up decently to the standards of today.

Bed Rest Movie and Book Reviews 6

2011-06-10T22:11:00.000-05:00

Belly Laughs, a book by Jenny McCarthy: This is the most hilarious book about pregnancy ever. I'd recommend it to all pregnant women, and don't worry- the short chapters are perfect for quick reading. From "Holy S***, I Think I Hard Boiled My Baby (Taking Hot Baths)" to "Where the Hell Can I Find a Muumuu? (Nothing to Wear), this book provides honest comic relief from all of the odd experiences awaiting us preggos.

Requiem: This is a German language movie based on a true story about a young woman with epilepsy who ultimately suffers multiple exorcisms in a desperate effort to treat her condition. The only searchable adjective that Netflix provides for this movie is "dark." I didn't see it as particularly dark. In fact it seems to me to be a very realistic portrayal, unfortunately, of the mental anguish and isolation that people with troubling physical and/or mental maladies often face.

Through the Wormhole: I really want to learn physics. I've never taken a physics class in my life, as I leaned towards biology with one requisite chemistry class throughout high school and college. Greg has agreed to answer any questions I happen to think up on the topic, including one nagging inquiry that I maintain may be quite profound in its ignorance, "does gravity have density?" This new series explores mysteries of the universe, with such ambitious topics as "Is there a creator?" "Life after death," "Are there more than 3 dimensions," and "Does Time Exist?" All of this is calmly explained by Morgan Freeman, who I can't help but continue to view as the wise and laid back portrayal of God that he played in Bruce Almighty. That was a genius casting choice, Science channel.

Junebug: This movie is a glimpse into the family dynamics of an adult son returning to his family of origin with his new wife. The couple seems to be intelligent and well adjusted to urban life. So despite the wife's best efforts she can't seem to fit in with her husband's rural family, at least in the eyes of her new mother-in-law. I loved the dialogue and simple use of body language in the movie which created an endearing caricature of country life.

Things I'm Looking Forward to When Bed Rest Ends:

2011-06-09T13:07:00.002-05:00

Walking further than 30 feet at a time
Yoga
Swimming
Driving
Shopping for groceries whenever I want (thought Greg been EXCELLENT at getting me everything I request)
Baking cookies
Picking up the house
Unpacking and using my awesome wedding reception presents
Hopefully packing to move soon
Seeing friends whenever I want (utilizing both driving and walking)
Taking the dogs outside
Working, specificially helping people and encountering amazing new things each day
Having a quote of the day to share with Greg and isn't from network TV

Bed Rest Movie and Book Reviews 5

2011-06-08T22:02:00.004-05:00

Recent adventures had from the shelter of the safe immobility graciously provided by the couch--

Ponyo: The English version of this anime movie features the voices of tons of random famous people including Cate Blanchett, Matt Damon, Tina Fey, Cloris Leachman, Liam Neeson, and Betty White. It's a simple story about a boy and a fish with ongoing elements of animism and magic. It's also an unexpected love story, and thankfully no one has to die to validate it.

Howard the Duck: I watched this quirky movie with my parents dozens of times 20 years ago. Although it's meant to be a comedy, the explosions and an demon possession scared me as a child. It was entertaining to revisit my memory of this weird, half-understood movie as an adult and share it with Greg. Also, I never would have guessed it was produced by George Lucas.

The Namesake: This fictional book tells the story of a man and wife who immigrate from India to America and raise an family. The family speaks Bengali, a language I strived to learn around six years ago with plans to one day work at an NGO in Bangladesh. When I was studying I could write and speak entire conversations. Unfortunately I've forgotten most of it, though I can still sound out words written in Bengali script, and I remember a few phrases.

My career path unfolded in an entirely different but equally fulfilling direction here in the states, but I maintain a love of languages and cultures. Particularly anything in Bengali or relating to the Pakistan/India/Bangladesh region is fascinating to me, this book included. The Namesake was a wonderfully detailed account of the tensions between assimilating to a new culture while maintaining ties to the old one over two generations.

Bed Rest Movie and Game Reviews 4

2011-06-06T09:26:00.002-05:00

My bed rest babies like to jump on the recliner with me when anyone walks into the house. They assume I am infirm and need protection.

Recent movies--

The Other Guys: This was a funny movie. I wish there were more movies out there with clean(ish) humor that actually make an attempt at a plot. Too often comedies are either really explicit or they rely exclusively on people crashing into things and getting hit in sensitive areas of the body. The only drawback to this movie was that seeing Mark Wahlberg as a police officer was reminiscent of the Departed, and Will Ferrell in a suit reminiscent of Stranger than Fiction. So if the viewer starts to want or expect elements of either of those great movies, they will disappointed. But viewed on its own, the movie is entertaining.

Blazing Saddles: I am sure I watched this Mel Brooks comedy many times during my early childhood with my parents, but I don't remember much. Watching it as an adult through the lens of today's culture, the politically-incorrect dialogue was jarring initially. But the movie ultimately ended okay, although I don't understand the point of the anachronistic break in the progression of the movie. I didn't understand that element at the end of Monty Python and the Holy Grail either. I think it's the kind of thing that you either "get" or you don't.

New Super Mario Brothers Wii: I haven't been able to play video games since Super Nintendo. I couldn't make the transition from 2D to 3D game landscapes no matter how hard I tried. I can't even walk around in a 3D game, much less play. I constantly get stuck in corners when playing 3D games, and my character is always looking and/or shooting at the ground. So I've been out of the video game race since about the N64 era, although I've kept my ailing Super Nintendo system in semi-working order all these years. This weekend my wonderful husband went to Target and bought us the New Super Mario Brothers game for Wii. Thank goodness for side-scrolling!! The Wii remote even makes a fair approximation of the old super Nintendo controller when held sideways. Greg and I worked up to level 5 so far. I'm certain that I can rescue the princess before my prescribed bed rest is over!

Bed Rest Movie Reviews 3

2011-06-04T09:26:00.001-05:00

Today I am halfway done with the month-long bed rest, assuming it's not extended after the next sonogram. My movie watching adventures have included:

The Death of Mr. Lazarescu: This movie sat in my Netflix queue a long time. It's a Romanian movie summarized as a "real-time drama following the travails of an ailing old man who waits for his illness to overtake him as a weary paramedic shuttles him between hospitals." As advertised, the viewer simply follows a lonely, sick man from his apartment to several area hospitals in an ambulance while he complains, moans, rambles, and occasionally vomits. So, understandably, I was completely surprised at how the movie held my attention and that I cared about the main character despite that fact that he only ever speaks to repeat his symptoms. This simple movie appeared to be an existentialistic commentary on life highlighting the lack of comforts to be found when one confronts the inevitability of suffering and death.

The Shadow: Greg said to me one day recently, "the sun is shining." When I did not respond with the expected, "Yes, but the ice is slippery," (and in fact I had no idea what he was talking about), he declared that I needed to watch this movie that he remembers from childhood. Then it miraculously appeared in the Netflix Instant selection. The movie was surprisingly good, even better than Greg remembered it. The movie is an adaptation of a 1930's radio show about a crime-fighting hero who is like a mix of Batman and Dick Tracy. The elements of mindfulness and telekinesis in the movie are similar to some in the Matrix, on a much smaller scale. And of course, with only the cheesiest special effects available to a flick in the early 90's, in keeping with the slightly satirical approach of the movie.

One Night with the King: I would have watched this movie much sooner had I realized it was the story of Esther, one of my favorite women of the Bible. The movie scenes and costumes are beautiful. They take a few liberties to develop the relationships between the characters, but the story overall is preserved. The additions actually make the climax of the movie even more powerful.

I had to take a break from NCIS and Cold Case marathons, so I recorded a few good movies that were playing on cable to re-watch. Meet the Parents is always entertaining. I also watched X-men with Greg, a movie we both love. I have the whole series on DVD except the Wolverine movie. Eventually we will watch the new one that's in theaters, X-men: First Class. If anyone has seen it let me know what you think, but no spoilers please! And lastly, Jersey Girl is not a favorite exactly, and I am not sure what element is missing from it. Maybe romantic comedies appeal to me more when they are told from the point of view of the woman. But it is entertaining enough for bed rest.

My Bed Rest Buddies

2011-06-01T14:10:00.003-05:00

When I began bed rest, the pets were adorably concerned. They kept their eyes on me at all times, and occasionally would approach me slowly to lick my hand. "I don't think she has a temperature," they seemed to say to one another. "Maybe she is sad. Bring her a toy," they said.

They have gotten used to the fact that I am not flying around the house at 80mph like my usual self. Unfortunately they have decided to emulate me. Instead of running around, wrestling, and sun bathing outside like they used to do, the dogs insist on laying within 3 feet of me throughout the day. It's endearing. Even when I move from the couch to the recliner, which is situated in front of the couch, the dogs lumber off of their cushions onto the floor next to my chair. They only ever get up to bark away the door to door salesmen or innocent passers-by that occur about twice a day.

However endearing it may be, I wish these boogers would get some exercise. There's no need for all three of us to suffer atrophy. Greg and I took them to play with their "cousin" dogs at his parents house this weekend, and not only did Greg have to cut their outing very short, he nearly had to carry Sahara and Tracy home. It took the dogs about a half hour to recover, panting and whimpering on cold kitchen tiles in the air conditioned house. I can only imagine what state I will be in the first time I hit the gym after 4 weeks of this.

Dawgs: "We are helping mama sleep."

Bed Rest Movie Reviews 2

2011-05-28T13:12:00.005-05:00

Again also posted on Facebook. Thank goodness for having Netflix while I'm on bed rest.

Greg does me the courtesy of supplying me with the names of actors based on whatever vague information I have collected in my mental schema of them. "Hon, who is the pale actor who looks like a bear?" I ask, adding, "He's always a bad guy...."

"Philip Seymour Hoffman?"

"Yes!"

The Savages, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and others: This was a good movie portraying two busy adult children deliberating over how to care for their aging father. It has a straight forward style that documents this common dilemma realistically. The characters struggle with inconvenience, guilt, and unsettling reminders of mortality. While they have good intentions, the children never have a feeling of reassurance that they are handling this delicate situation "right." However their efforts are redeemed in the growth they experience as a family despite their feeling that they acted clumsily.

The Flight of the Red Balloon: I enjoyed this movie, even though that it has no discernible plot whatsoever. A big draw for me is that I love to listen to French and Spanish language movies. I try to pick out words I know, and it makes me want to improve any and all foreign language skills I have. This movie is an artsy French language film that juxtaposes the path of a red balloon in the city against the life of young boy and his new nanny. This what would result if the weird plastic-bag-filming kid from American Beauty made a whole movie. The film chronicles exclusively mundane moments- wide shots of the city streets showing the nanny and boy walking to a bus stop, discussing whether to visit a bakery or not, deliberating over what sodas to order, asking the amount due to be repeated, and counting out change for the bar tender. In the narrow crowded apartment the viewer watches the characters make pancake mix, put groceries away, get their piano tuned, and play video games. But for some reason the movie is still interesting. At some point the viewer realizes the boy's life is as haphazard as the flight of the wandering balloon as he is shuffled between nannies, teachers, boarders, and frequent random visitors to his apartment who are seeking his absent mother. The movie doesn't provide any background information, so viewers are just as detached from all of this environmental bustle as the boy is. The movie conveys through very simple means that children appear to enjoy a carefree and capricious existence, but actually they are completely subject to the whims of their environment. Rather than being characterized by freedom, being unfettered can be exhausting and lonely. As the boys classmates comment at one point about a painting of a child at play, "It's both happy and sad."

Dane Cook Live- New York: Dane Cook is one of the few comedians that Greg and I both enjoy. We were fortunate to find this show of his on Netflix Instant, so Greg was spared from watching a red balloon float around the streets of France.

Bed Rest Movie Reviews

2011-05-26T11:44:00.001-05:00

Also posted on Facebook... I have a lot of time on my hands here.

The doctor has placed me on precautionary bed rest for a month until my next ultrasound. I'm taking this opportunity to work through my hundreds of Netflix movies. Last year I added all of the movies from the Christianity Today top 10 movies lists. While I often disagree with the religious and political views expressed on the site as a whole, I respect their decision to take on on controvercial issues and allow the views opposing their own to be expressed and explored. However, the Movies and TV part of their site has a completely different tone from the rest of the site. It has consistently stood out over the years as open-minded, relevant to the culture, and progressive. The reviewers offer a Christian perspective on films in that they look for themes of redemption, guilt, forgiveness, and grace. But they avoid the common pitfall of Christian writers to let significant violence, sex, or profanity drag down their rating or perceived value of the movie. I've watched movies from their Top 10 lists over the last 7 years. Often the lists contain a few little known titles that I never would have watched otherwise, but those movies are consistently the ones I recall later at random times- remeberimg a beautiful scene, a powerful moment of the story, or a memorable character. I admit that I have watched the more well-known movies from these lists first, leaving a queue heavy with foreign, independent, and eccentric movies to choose from while on bed rest. And of course I also fill the time with Netflix instant movies, which is full of humorous knock-offs of popular movies (Transmorphers!) and flicks that didn't do very well at the box office.

The Squid and the Whale: Christianity today calls this a "candidly honest depiction of the consequences of divorce and infidelity." It reminds me of several others movies recommended previously about marriage and infidelity with a similar style- "The Royal Tenenbaums," "Little Children," and "Running with Scissors." These movies seem to try to create a sense of distance between the characters and the viewer, mirroring the disconnect between the dysfunctional characters themselves, by having the characters behave in exaggeratedly idiosyncratic ways with little verbal or emotional insight provided into their state of mind. I bet that someone with training in film studies knows a word for this type of style. Well I don't like it. :( The character's odd behavior becomes unrealistic for me. In a mild example from this movie, the teenage son dunks his head into a stagnant city pond, presumably because of a romantic disappointment, and appears at home drenched and smelly. His mother asks about the motive for his behavior and he has no explanation. As a viewer I can't find an explanation either, and the character simply comes across to me as one-dimensional and lacking any clear motive, even privately. It seems to me that in these movies, stark depictions of sexual compulsions and odd behaviors are meant to replace displays of emotion or discussion of feelings. I am a counselor- I'm in the business of talk therapy. I prefer the emotions and discussions. Still, these types of movies are entertaining for their blunt symbolism including that stagnant pond, a poorly maintained home, inadequate provisions for the children of divorce, and the big reveal at the end when the audience finally gets a sliver of insight into a main character explaining the title of the movie.

Paper Heart: This wasn't on Christianity today, it was just suggested by Netflix. Eeek, I'm often disappointed when I stray from the lists. Especially with a movie that's available on Netflix Instant. This movie appeared to be a very juvenile semi-documentary about love. The content and quality both seemed like something that was put together by a 9th grade media class student. I had to turn the movie off. Even on bedrest I just felt like watching it was a waste of time.

Grown Ups: Again, not on Christianity Today- this is a Netflix Instant of the "didn't do well in the box office" variety. I didn't have high hopes- I just needed something to watch while I was marooned on the couch, and the movie provided enough entertainment for me. In the movie five childhood friends and their families spend the weekend together after their old coach passes away. The friends end up reminiscing about the "good old days" as rambunctious and hopeful kids. It seemed more like an auto-biographical commentary on the fact that these actors are aging-out of their comedy genre. David Spade may have the good fortune to always look 12 years old, but Adam Sandler is just past the point of portraying the prankster black-sheep son or an endearing but unreliable and accident-causing boyfriend/sports icon/hair stylist.... Hopefully he will find a new niche portraying the trials of marriage, aging, and parenting that are hinted at in this movie and some of his other recent roles (Reign Over Me, Funny People, Bedtime Stories).

Baby and me

2011-05-25T10:50:00.004-05:00

The second to last client that I saw last week inspired quite a surprise. We talked as I walked with him back to my small office. He seemed particularly well adjusted, articulate, and self aware for a client with the type of major mental illness that my clinic treats. In fact, this client had the diagnosis that I consider to be the most chronic and potentially debilitating of those that we treat. Yet he was pleasant, responsive, and alert. Interacting with him in public, I would not have guessed he had an illness. It became clear during the assessment that he had average or above average intellectual functioning and had been receiving treatment for this illness for over 30 years. He knew offhand which medications worked correctly for him, what unpleasant side effects they cause, and what supplementary medications work best to counter those side effects for him. While he appeared to be functioning very well, he was also aware of what skills he could improve on and inquired about receiving counseling or psychoeducation in addition to the medication. I thoroughly enjoy seeing these types of clients because they provide me with hope for a good prognosis for the majority of clients that I see who are just beginning their journey with a serious mental illness.

To be honest, I "let my guard down," somewhat with this client because I judged him to be so high functioning. Having been through assessments his whole life, he knew the questions I would ask. I used more open ended questions with him rather than controlling the conversation with staccato "yes/no" options so I could assess and comment on his level of insight into the condition and treatment. I never shut my door when with clients, but the amount that I leave it cracked open is a judgment call between environmental distractions, client privacy, and my safety. On that day the environmental distraction happened to be significant. A coworker had a severe allergy attack and was vigorously blowing his nose precisely every 30 seconds...."HONK HONK HOOOONK" I don't know if pregnancy sensitivities played into it, but by the afternoon this incessant nose honking was almost unbearable for me. All factors considered, I chose to barely crack the door- it was very close to shut.

At the end of the clinical assessment I had to ask one last question before we moved onto the paperwork. We had finished talking about his history of substance use briefly. I was even smiling at the time because due to some open appointments, I had the opportunity to actually help the client, and the assessment had been so pleasant and easy. He had already discussed his substance use, so I asked the requisite seemingly benign follow up question, "And do you participate in any AA or NA to maintain your sobriety?"

The client's facial expression changed instantly to intense anger. He locked onto my gaze and maintained eye contact as he tensed his body, gripping the armrests of the chair as though ready to lunge. "I wish you wouldn't SAY that, it makes me ANGRY and it's PREJUDICED!" he said. I quickly assessed that I couldn't exit the room without provoking him with a lot of movement due to door being almost shut. I froze, looking back at him with my hands poised over the keyboard.

I have had dozens of clients become upset while in session. Many have threatened me ("You know what I was in prison for. Are you afraid of me? I could hurt you back in this office and no one would know."), one stood over me screaming for several minutes, some have knocked papers off my desk and onto the floor, others became agitated, pacing, throwing something, hitting the wall, or sliding down into a corner crying. Yet I was never, ever afraid in any of those other situations. In those situations, the "unpredictability" was technically predictable at some point. The clients were upset about something specific, they were high, or in some cases psychotic/paranoid/desperate, and that is what I specialize in addressing as a counselor. The vast majority calm down through the process of the assessment, a few have walked out of the office in a huff, and very few have been escorted out of my office in handcuffs by police. But in this situation I had no indication that the client was going to respond this way. I didn't even have any idea what had made him angry, and therefore had no idea what words or actions would trigger him further. All indications said he was going to physically attack me.

Finally I said, "Oh really? Substance use you mean? That upsets you?" I tried to maintain a casual approach which hopefully he would instinctually mirror, but I could tell my overly furrowed eye brows betrayed my concern. Being scared was actually a blessing though, because apparently the client was able to see that I was afraid and he let go of the arm rests. He broke his eye contact and looked towards the ground, seeming to shake off the tension that had been in his muscles. He looked thoroughly ashamed. And he said he would really be interested in some anger management treatment. "That can be very helpful," I said. Then I suggested that we take a short break while I gather some paperwork related to his upcoming appointment. I don't know if it was the client or I who was more eager to step away for a few minutes and let the tension dissipate from the room and from both of us.

I literally caught my breath when I took a break in the staff room. I told a nearby coworker what happened so she could keep an ear open during the rest of my assessment when the door would be wide open. And next I marveled at the fact that I had gotten so afraid. In addition to the true unpredictability that the client showed, I had a foreign thought during those anxious seconds, "I have to get my baby out of here." Until that point I had never had much of a sense of carrying "somebody" around with me; with no kicks or anything I still pictured an unformed blastocyst bobbing around in my belly. But after I got out of that office, I felt an odd sense of wartime camaraderie with this baby, as though it would be natural to look down at my stomach and say in lingering wonder, "Dij'ya SEE that?"

I finished the meeting with the client, still on edge that any question may set him off again. It turns out that 12 step programs are some kind of intense trigger for him. I made a big note of this for his soon to be treatment team, and he went on his way.

I knew that the next day I would be out for a sonogram appointment, where I could meet this baby that I suddenly felt so protective of. I also knew that the doctor was going to check for a possible pregnancy complication which might require bed rest. Bed rest would throw off my plans to complete my internship hours by a narrow margin before the baby arrives. Plus I have doubts that I could maintain my own sanity when restricted to home and now allowed to work on 10 things at once, as I have always preferred to do. Yet after being so shaken by that client, the possibility of bed rest now had one item in the "pro" column (no additional surges of adrenaline for the baby). The doctor had specified that the probability of needing best rest was low. But as the sonogram began, I began to wonder if this surprising incident with the client was part of God's plan to persuade me to slow down. "That SO seems like something you would do," I mentally IMed to God. I developed a hunch that bed rest was in my future. And taDAA! Here I am camped out in a recliner at 10:45am on a weekday. Per doctor's orders, for the next 4 weeks it's just Baby and me here at home, today recounting how we bonded over the second-to-last client that we will have in a while. Sometimes God's ways are not so mysterious as they are good-natured ironic commentary on your life. I think above all else God has a good sense of humor.

Trespassers will be shot. With watergun.

2011-05-11T09:16:00.004-05:00

Sphinx's favorite part of the day is the early evening before Greg and I close the doggie door for the night. Sphinx has a definite pep in her step as she scampers outside to prowl the neighborhood few a few hours of twilight and darkness. She even loses track of time occasionally and gets locked outside until her mournful meows on the porch finally wake us up, or until morning.

A few nights ago Sphinx returned to the house early when it had just gotten dark outside. Greg and I heard ferocious hissing and assumed that our pets were settling an offense amongst themselves. But the hissing in the kitchen continued loudly, and I noticed that both dogs were actually in the room with us. I stood up to look into the kitchen and I saw a foreign black and white paw swatting around wildly from the flap of the dog door, the paw-owner hiding safely on the other side of the door. Sphinx was puffed up to 3 times her actual size, hissing with all of her might at the invader-paw.

"Sphinx is fighting with another animal!" I yelled to Greg, who jumped up to intervene. Then the dogs caught on, charging though the dog door and chasing the animal out of the yard. Sphinx remained on the kitchen table, all poofed up. No animals were harmed in the making of this story.

Last night the invader returned, again trying to follow Sphinx inside. Sphinx ran into the house and squealed for her big sister-dogs' help. I calmed everyone down and snuck up to the door to catch a glimpse of this creature and verify that it's not a raccoon, squirrel, possum, or a deranged feral cat carrying rabies. Just yesterday I had read about a feral ca t that entered a home and sent a grown man to the hospital. I spotted a sweet looking black cat with white paws, whom I shall refer to as Mittens.

He was well groomed and had a collar on. I think he is a new neighborhood cat who has a crush on Sphinx. He appears to be recklessly brave (or perhaps just not too bright) as he has returned even after being chased by 160 pounds of toothy dog. But I know the kryptonite needed to keep this hapless Romeo from being eaten by Tracy and Sahara. I've prepared a water gun for Mittens' return. After a few well-timed shots he'll stay away from our porch for good. Maybe he'll even spread the word to his friends about the cute cat living down the street with an tragically crazy and protective family. That'll keep feline guests from entering our home without permission. You know, cut down on the cat burglars.

Wednesday Meeting

2011-05-05T21:40:00.003-05:00

Lisa: I loved scanning photos all day Wednesday for the reception slide show. I love seeing what kinds of kids we were, growing up completely unknown to each other for 25 years. And yet so perfect for each other.

Dogs: Wednesday was the boringest meeting ever. We layed in the office, then on the couch, and then in the yard in the sun. Then Wednesday was over.

Sheila's Big Day

2011-04-22T08:11:00.011-05:00

I bought my car in the summer of 2002 and named her Sheila H. Civic. She had 59 miles on the odometer during my test drive, and I bought her when we returned to the dealership. From that first day, I talked to Sheila about all the miles we would collect across the country on road trips, scenic drives, and just plain commuting.

We have gone through snow and deserts together,

Faced inclement weather and the wild outdoors,

Even encountered a few bumps along the way,

And Sheila has never failed to bring me home safely.

I have a lot of faith in Honda, and I planned from the outset to drive Sheila over 200,000 miles without any major problems. I told Sheila she could reTIRE anytime she wanted after that point. Sheila, of course, met that expectation easily. She passed 200,000 miles this past Friday without any problems over the past 9 years aside from normal wear and tear.

I was interested to see where this big event would take place. I had hoped to be able to drive the final miles leisurely on my day off last week, but I had too much to do in preparation for the MS 150 and tons of other tasks that snuck up on me. As it turned out I had to watch the miles creep towards 200,000 during my normal commute and errands last week, with the final destination a surprise. It turns out that Sheila has adopted a mischievous sense of coincidence and adventure from her owner. On Friday night driving back from dinner with friends, Sheila reached 200,000 miles in southwest Houston directly in front of my old employer and Alma Mater, Houston Baptist U. This is a fun coincidence and naturally I wanted to document the historic moment. The problem is, the immediate area that HBU is located is known to be one of the most dangerous in Houston. When looking for houses a few years ago I combed through HPD police crime stats painstakingly beat by beat. And I can confirm that there are far more murders and rapes in one month in *any* 3 block radius of that area than those that occur in a year in the entire zip code that I live in now. I sat in my car and contemplated this dilemma. My love of silly coincidences and photos won out.

I left Sheila running and scampered over to get a very quick pic. Then I ran back to Sheila before someone shanked my aaahz and carjacked me.

HAPPY "RE-TIRE-MENT" SHEILA!!

Wednesday meeting

2011-04-06T09:04:00.001-05:00

At the Wednesday meeting we discussed the springtime agenda:

Sahara, Tracy, and Sphinx: shed coat

Lisa and Greg: "spring cleaning" of the house spent rounding up all of the life-sized hair imprints of our pets made on the "furr"-niture.

Power Up (Super Mario style, not Wreckshop Family)

2011-03-31T10:36:00.001-05:00

I didn't want to jinx it by speaking too soon, but I felt like I had more energy and less nausea as of the end of last week. I couldn't sleep very late even when I tried. So, I planned a much needed return to working out this week, but opted to wait until my Wednesday off before trying the gym. My awesome husband went with me yesterday and we rode the stationary bikes just like we used before my body waged war against me. I was shocked that my energy held up fine during and after the workout. I was even able to exercise at the same level I did before my month-long hiatus. It went so well that I tried an early morning work out today, like old times. And it - was - AWESOME!! I feel like I've been a frustratingly sluggish "little" Mario for the past month, and I received a surprise mushroom this week.

Wednesday meeting

2011-03-30T08:17:00.001-05:00

It was a real snoozer

Dogs n' Food and Dogs n' Food

2011-03-28T21:50:00.004-05:00

All that I have energy for nowadays is to ruminate on whether or not I can/should/have/will eat anything and to relax at home, usually with the pets. So, fair warning: my blog will consist of only dogs and food for the next few months at least. This particular story contains both.

There is a wonderful ice cream shop near the house named Brusters, and Greg and I order their ice cream by the half-gallon when we go. One day this month we had the dogs in the back seat when we navigated their drive through.

"OH!" the Bruster's lady exclaimed eyeing Sahara and Tracy. "Would you like two doggie sundays!?"

"What? Oh.....uh?" we replied confused, "What are they....? Um, yes," we agreed since she had already left the window to compose them.

Beautiful! Two blobs of unidentified ice cream topped with mini milk bones! The dogs were ultra excited. I decided to let Tracy try it out first, as she has not quite mastered the concepts of "patience" or "taking turns." The doggie sunday was a hit.

Sahara cautiously tested out the next sunday and ultimately approved of it. Then I got a chance to enjoy my chocolate mint ice cream as we continued home.

Shortly before entering our subdivision I heard the unmistakable stomach lurching which precedes a doggie vomit. I looked in the back and saw the panic stricken look on Tracy's face that said, "Noooooooooo, not my sunday!!..............BLARRFF!!!"

Tracy delicately deposited the watery contents of her stomach into the bowl-like hand grip of the back door of the truck, as well as onto the floor below. And the pregnant woman in the car turned to her husband and said, "That's all you...." and then resumed eating ice cream. The gracious husband (who has mastered the virtues of patience and taking turns) executed a perfect vomit removal job upon our arrival at home.

Note to self: Tracy- lactose intolerant.

Kool-Aid Singles: Welcome to my Life

2011-03-24T15:58:00.000-05:00

Currently Sprite and Ginger Ale are "too sweet" for me. But a cartoon-bearing colored-sugar packet to pour into my water apparently is not. I researched a bit and contrary to my intuition on it, Kool Aid has significantly less sugar than those others, so it's no wonder my sensitive system prefers it:

Sprite 38g sugar
Ginger Ale 24g sugar
Kool Aid 7g sugar

When scanning the package at the store, I didn't see any artificial sweeteners like aspartame. Upon closer inspection today due to the note I saw about recently reduced sugar content, I found it does have artificial sweeteners acesulfame k and sucralose. Give a pregnant woman a break! Beverages of all types have become repulsive and tummy troubling for me, even plain water with lemon. Just this morning I gave away the last of my Sprite and Ginger Ale because just seeing them made me queasy. And now that I found something that's working ok, those pervasive sweeteners that I've worked so hard to cut out of my diet have snuck into my drink! However, this may be the only way for me to get a decent amount of hydration during this time that plain water makes me feel gross. Welcome to the pantry, Kool Aid, if only for the 22 single servings left.

Banana Hanger Fail

2011-03-24T10:18:00.000-05:00

Wine-ing

2011-03-20T19:38:00.003-05:00

Seen on the back of a wine distributor vehicle:

"Would pair nicely with a cheese truck."

I found this hilarious. And I can't have either (at least not the good cheese).

Lessons from the Womb

2011-03-20T11:04:00.002-05:00

What my child has already been teaching me at negative seven and 3/4 months:

Saying no

I’ve been saying no to people, events, and foods when I feel it is in the best interest of my child. Most importantly, I have said NO to other people's drama that tries to creep into my life. NO to unnecessary demands on my time. NO to foods and drinks that just *might* have health risks, like my beloved Diet Coke and other artificially sweetened fare.

Moderation

To ease queasiness, I’ve been eating small amounts of food every hour or two rather than three large meals per day. This is actually one (of several) healthy patterns of eating for anyone, as it helps to avoid large swings in blood sugar levels. And I’ve had to restore some balance to my activity versus sleep ratio. I traded my daily 6AM workouts for an extra hour of sleep each day during this exhausting first few months.

Relaxing

As a preteen, people used to tell me I would have an ulcer by the time I’m 20, because I had so much I aspired to do and never seemed to take a break. They were wrong but I can see their point. Well, never has my home been more cluttered and covered in dog hair. Never has my car remained un-vacuumed and unwashed for so long. Never have I watched more TV or worked out less. Never have I slept in so much or napped AT ALL during the day. Never have I actually taken all the periodic breaks allowed me at work, rather than multitasking right on through them.

Bluntness

Being pregnant is like instant assertiveness training. I don’t have time, patience, or energy for diplomacy and timidity anymore. This helps a lot with the Saying No part. And I say what I mean and mean what I say with my clients, coworkers, friends and family. It has been interesting when this bluntness brushes up against the particularly difficult and/or aggressive clients at work. This week two clients in particular were surprised not to be placated when they made a show about becoming frustrated in session. I was in turn surprised that when I responded with a clinically appropriate version of “these are the facts, deal with it,” the clients apologized for their behavior and thanked me for my help.

Good Intentions

2011-03-15T10:20:00.000-05:00

When I found out I was pregnant I was on a mission to provide the baby with the best physiological and nutritional environment I could. I've always tried to eat healthy and exercise regularly. So, I learned what exercises are safe to continue doing and in what amounts in order to keep in shape. (No biking the MS 150 for me unfortunately.) I banished caffeine, medications, and artificial sweeteners from my diet along with all kinds of yummy off-limits foods like sushi, Brie cheese, Ceasar dressing, and too much fish. I bought lots of fresh fruits, vegetables, and whole grains. I continued to use the lean recipes I like that don't have any forbidden ingredients. Below was my much-procrastinated first attempt at making tabbouleh with quinoa a few weeks ago and it turned out pretty good.

But, as of about two and a half weeks ago I feel gross alll the time. I don't want to eat. When I do I often feel grosser. When I don't I also feel grosser. I may feel like eating something one minute and later it is appalling. I have zero energy to walk across the house, much less work out. These are all typical pregnancy symptoms. A friend told me recently this is why the first thing they do when a child is born is spank them, for crap like this. After all of my hopes of eating veggies and fruits and a wonderful natural nutritious mix for the baby, I'm pretty much restricted to eating Teddy Grahams and saltines right now. Although I actually ate a pear and a cheese stick today as I was feeling a little better. This is progress.

Wednesday Meeting: Vet Adventure

2011-03-13T12:50:00.012-05:00

Although it's difficult tell tell based on the blog updates, the dogs and I still have our trusty Wednesday meetings every week. I have Wednesdays off of work, so the Wednesday meeting consists of whatever antics the pets and I can get ourselves into at some point during the day. Prior to becoming pregnant, the Wednesday meetings almost always consisted of a walk or a trip to the park. But lately the pets and I have spent our Wednesdays with Special Agent Jethro Gibbs who stars in the marathon of NCIS I have stored in the DVR. However, one particular Wednesday recently I endeavored to take all three animals to the vet. This would be my first time taking all three at once, and I intended to rest on Tuesday night in preparation for this feat. While driving home from work Tuesday night Greg informed me over the phone that he found Tracy roaming the neighborhood when he got home, having gotten out of the backyard through a faultily-latched gate. Sahara was found safely in the house wimpering a drawn-out story about how Tracy had left the yard, despite Sahara's stern admonishions about doing so. Greg informed me that Tracy didn't appear to be hurt or very dirty, so I continued home with hopes of a relaxing night.

When I arrived, my supersensitive pregnancy nose told me something was not right. It smelled like drowned river rats and crap in the house.

"Are you sure Tracy isn't dirty?" I asked Greg, ushering the guilty dog over for a whiff.

"She may have gone swimming in the pond," Greg replied. She definitely had the tell-tale earthy water smell, but it didn't account for all of the stench.

"Sa-HAA-raaa," I called out sweetly, not wanting to alarm what we assumed to be our one animal that had been exceptionally well behaved today. She walked to me with increasing hesitation.... no doubt due to the matted and clotted dirt that I found forming mud pants on her back legs. She had also undoubtedly rolled in something dead, judging by the pungent smells coming from her head and back.

"Greg!" I said in my best 'look at what your dog did' voice. (In true Lion King fashion, the offending child always belongs to the "other" parent.) "I can't bring them to the vet like this," I said. And so my evening was spent with these mischevious rascals who decided to treat themselves to a free day outside. Not only that, but "my" dog snuck BACK into the yard and pretended to be innocent and anxious about Tracy's escape!

They were both sentenced to baths. What did they have to say for themselves?

Sahara: It was worth it.

Tracy: Why you look so mad? We can walk ourselves now!

The News

2011-03-03T20:48:00.007-06:00

I've kept quiet on my blog since my birthday in order to make a few in person announcements without any danger of posting clues or spoilers beforehand. Besides, spreading The News took a fair amount of my time over the last few weeks. I enlisted the help of all of the pets, and they were less than cooperative.

Sphinx couldn't fathom what task would possibly be important enough to require her immediate attention, and decided not to participate.

When I captured the flippant feline, the dogs were restless, not understanding this marathon picture posing process. The grip I have Sphinx in could pass for an affectionate cuddle, but Tracy had an emergency yawn just as the camera clicked and Sahara was just plain bored.

When we finally got all of the pets in the frame, I have my typical pained picture-taking look which seems to shout, "why didn't the flash go off 3 seconds ago.......?" much more than it proclaims "Happy new mamma"

Next we considered giving Sphinx a get-out-of-family-activities-free pass, and got a cute pic of the dogs. But we decided we wanted everyone included in the announcement. Plus I anticipated some possible confusion about the message since I am a Future Mom, not a Future sister.

Next I figured if the pets wouldn't cooperate together, I could fashion something containing each of them individually. But as I was photo editing this idea into reality, all of the pets wandered into my office to hang out as usual, creating a great photo op. After the hour Greg and I had spent wrangling, coaxing, and capturing the animals, it ended up that the pets' natural curiosity and desire for community created the perfect pic without much direction from us. You can almost hear Tracy's thoughts, "Hm, I wonder why Mom is so stressed out?"

Birthday Week

2011-02-16T11:00:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow I will be 28. For some reason, that seems so much closer to 30 than 27 does. I've been thinking this week that my 20's are almost over. Oddly, it gave me more mental confidence when speaking with my adult clients, most of whom are much older than me. I believe I've always been able to maintain outward confidence and professionalism, but there was always a quiet droning loop playing in my head that said, "This 45/52/68-year-old woman is wondering how much professional experience I've gained....what helpful life experience I could possibly have...or what credentials someone her daughter and granddaughter's age could have earned...." And these insecurities are not dreamed up. A few of the more impulsive or less polite clients will throw this issue down on the table as a form of deflection and resistance to therapy.

"How old are you?" they'll ask.
"Do you even have kids?"
"I bet you didn't grow up poor and you have no idea what it was like in third ward back in the 60's. I grew up 5 blocks from here. You ever even been there? I bet you haven't. You've never seen anything like it in your white person life. Where do you live? You ever been poor? Back in the 60's here the police would....(let the dissertation on age, race, poverty, and politics begin)"

Just this week I faced a skillful challenge at work from a teenage client. This brooding teen was quiet throughout the first hour of the assessment, arms crossed, except for when she jumped in protest at her's mother's descriptions of the teen's troublesome behavior. The teen was reportedly very intelligent and excelling in school though. So when I asked if she had any thing to add, she asked me, "How many years of school did you need to go to to do this?"

"Oh," I said, surprised. I put my pen down to give her my full attention, "Well, to be a counselor you do your Bachelor's degree, which is four years, and then you do a Master's degree, which is another two." No response. "Are you interested in working in this field?" I asked.

"No." This was accompanied by a level stare, arms still crossed, and face impassive except that her eyes betrayed that she suppressed a satisfied smirk. 'Just my way of asking who the hell you think you are,' her body language said. I don't blame her- the assessment process is difficult for already sulky teens, and that was actually the most well executed affront to my authority I've had at this job. It was quite entertaining.

So this week as I contemplated turning 28, the mental playback loop stopped. Instead of being on alert for doubts from my clients regarding my age or experience, I was simply thinking "I'm almost 30." Somehow it seems like at "almost 30," my status as an adult will be universally recognized. Then again, when I went out for a drink with coworkers last weekend, I was the only one who got carded at the door. Well being "a woman my age," I'll just take that as a compliment.

Sticky Situation, Part 2

2011-02-04T10:39:00.007-06:00

Meet my sticker collection

I have had a lot of these stickers since elementary school. I have always been a saver. Of money, of coins, of books, and of stickers. Of pictures, letters. Games and art supplies. Of McDonald's toys. And inside an old-school green McDonald's lunch box (kids nowadays have no idea that we used to get our happy meals in collectible plastic buckets and boxes...), I even saved junk and scrap metal for making "inventions." I constructed a pulley system from trash in the garage which lifted my Connect Four off the ground to let the checkers fall out after a game.

Eventually I learned to weigh effort expended against profit gained. After all of my work, that pulley system probably required more energy to operate than picking the game up manually like a normal 8 year old would do. And much later, I also learned that the value of material things is generally tied to their usefulness, and so to spend my time dusting a collection of collections is again to expend energy without utilizing the potential of the items I supposedly treasure. Not using the items kind of nullifies their value in fact; having a rare or expensive perfume on the shelf is the same as having a drug store imitation sitting there if it's never used, and having a full palette of paints laying in a drawer never produces anything greater than having a single color stored away would.

I had a lot of fun the day I finally realized that. I colored and painted, made inventions and photo albums, tried on clothes, jewelery and nail polishes, and I even identified a lot of things to donate or throw away. Since then I don't hesitate to use anything. I look for opportunities to use things myself or pass them along to someone else. But my love of stickers was so vast that even after years of art, scrapbooking, cards, and gift making, I still have a box o' stickers available whenever I need it. In fact, I have probably accumulated more over the last few years than I've used. Stickers are cool! They're useful! I'm a compulsive journal-and-photo-album-maker, so stickers are a basic necessity. And when there is a sudden demand among my youngest clients for equal opportunity sticker choices, I can easily respond.

Animal stickers- check.
These apparently are suitable "girl stickers." I have just short of 528 of them.

These, I know, are boy stickers. No way you're getting your grubby paws on these ones, kiddos. The Ninja Turtles now belong to my husband.

I imagine that most kids would know about the Ninja Turtles. But some of my collection has lapsed into obscurity. Is it possible that anyone born this millennium knows of Tiny Toons?

And I must keep these- an elementary school relic- so that I can reminisce about when overzealous environmental lobbyists visited our elementary schools twice a year. They told us that Burger King was killing the rain forest, tuna companies were killing the dolphins, and at the current rate, we would all be buried alive in trash by the time we were 20. Our job as young recruits was to not eat at Burger King (seriously), eat only dolphin safe tuna, and start plastering orange stickers onto everything plastic in our house. Eh, I preferred to recycle the stickers themselves. I recall using them as tape once.

Sticky situation

2011-02-03T13:56:00.001-06:00

Observed in my office on Tuesday:

I was seeing elementary school aged sisters. As usual I attempted to establish myself as an authority figure from the outset, explaining that I have toys and coloring books for them during the assessment, and if they play quietly, they'll receive Spiderman stickers at the end of the meeting. While this usually inspires a determined/smug/mischievous smile, neither girl reacted much. They played quietly enough for the next few hours though. At the end of the session I announced that they had done very well and could choose a sticker from the page I presented to them. (Courtesy of my last trip to Half Price Books, it was a small investment with big returns. I haven't had a single thing thrown at me since instituting the stickers a few months ago.) The youngest girl pointed to her sticker choice hesitantly. The oldest simply crossed her arms.

"Those are Spiderman," she said.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"I want the girl stickers," she said matter of factly.

"Well, this is all we got," I responded. "Do you see one of these you like?"

"Spiderman are boy stickers."

"Oh, well I don't have any girl stickers I guess," I say. "What kind of girl stickers should I get next time?"

"Are there animal ones?" she asked, gesturing to the rest of the pages, which are in fact identical to the one I was holding.

"Nope, just Spiderman," I say.

"Are there stickers that smell?" she asked. Apparently she wanted to establish that my stickers were indeed at the bottom of a secret sticker hierarchy known only to children.

"Nope, just regular stickers," I said. "This one says 'Excellent!' cuz you did an excellent job playing quietly!" I said.

She reluctantly opted for one of the Spidey stickers offering some exclamation of praise, and was on her way out after she decided that, indeed, animals were the best choice for girl stickers if I were to obtain some.

Bad manners aside, I can see her point. I have tons of stickers at home which outlasted my childhood that I just haven't thought to bring up here. I've got colored smiley faces, dragons, hearts, unicorns, some kind of back-to-school dinosaurs, and even a whole book of animal stickers. Omigosh, I, like, totally need to bring girl stickers to work. Like, Spiderman is totally for smelly boys. Duh.

Just Another Manic Monday

2011-01-31T11:57:00.000-06:00

No matter how much I like my job, I can really identify with Office Space on Mondays. My Mondays are so hectic, it's kind of an unfortunate start to the week. I wake up at 5, and I'm at the gym at 6, and work at 7:30. I work until 6pm, with a half hour lunch wedged in there somewhere, and I scurry to my 6:30pm supervision session. I leave there around 7:45pm, which is still an hour from my house. At 8:45 I greet my long-lost husband, dogs, and cat, eat some kind of dinner. By 10 I'm hopefully asleep to start again the next day, when I'll repeat it all except the supervision part. Then, mercifully, I have Wednesday off, and do just 2 more rounds after that before the weekend. This looks like a very long road from the perspective of Monday morning.

On Mondays I lament the need to work. I echo Peter's longing from Office Space for the time and freedom to do "nothing." And somehow I conveniently forget the boredom I experience so quickly when I do have "nothing" to do; how I actually get excited to be able to work after feeling disconnected from society and purposeless whenever I've had any extended unemployment or idle time. None of this wisdom seems to register as I drive towards the city skyline in the pre-dawn hours, my free-time-weekend looming in the rearview mirror. All that occupies my mind is an acute case of the Mondays.

But some Mondays, I can remind myself what a great job I have; that it's exactly the job I wanted, and what I want to do; that I get the opportunity to help people; that I'm gaining great experience and that I'm simultaneously working towards a great asset- my full license; that I'll have that license this year and won't have to go to supervision; that I'll suddenly recover $160 per month when supervision ends in addition to a great jump in pay possible because of the license; and that when supervision ends, so do marathon Mondays.

Serenity

2011-01-24T21:44:00.004-06:00

As is entirely appropriate for Januaries, I've been reflecting on my past, present, and future. As usual, the process is maddeningly abstract, disjointed, and difficult to write about. But as an overview, I have seen several themes recur around me in the last few months that have me thinking. I feel like I have been encountering examples of leadership and growth everywhere I look. I have admired the choices and speech of some political leaders, and been perplexed by the poor decisions of some others. Each week I meet with my counseling supervisor, and I try to imagine his decision making process as he describes various issues that arise as the head of a growing counseling practice group. I observe how the administrators at my office act and react to events. I watch my pastors at church and note how they handle conflict and the changing needs of the congregation and community. Even in my current Wheel of Time book, the characters that I have watched grow up over the last 12 books are now wise and capable world leaders navigating politics and making hard decisions constantly.

In my own life I find myself wondering how I would handle these situations, and how soon I might be faced with them. Later this year I will be a fully licensed professional counselor, and at some point in my career, sooner or later, I may practice independently. At some point I may be a supervisor myself. And according to my 30 before 30, I will teach an adjunct class in the coming years. So I begin to wonder if I could approach leadership with the measured logic, adept political maneuvering, patient wisdom and peaceful serenity that I admire in various leaders I see around me.

I feel a little like the themes of growth and leadership have been chasing me in recent years, starting with my struggle with the woman at the well and Spiderman-based philosophies. During an Al-Anon meeting around 2007, I remember saying to the group that I felt like I had been in a season of rest and was sufficiently renewed to take on more active roles. I was referring to my self-imposed break from the intense helping professions during which I traded my job as a case worker to the chronically mentally ill for an admin assistant job at a university. I settled into that university job for 4 years, completing my Masters degree along the way. What I meant, then, at that Al-Anon meeting was that I had enjoyed some much needed time away, but while I thought I was resting, I was sneakily growing a lot as a person too. Through a few years of natural maturing, plus life experience and especially through Al-Anon I learned about my weaknesses, strengths, limitations, and boundaries, and I returned to the field much more capable to help others than I had been before. And I knew that in both my personal and professional life, maintaining self care physically, mentally, spiritually was a high priority, so I've continued to practice the teachings of Al-Anon, Christianity, psychology, and just plain instincts. All of these approaches strive for basically the same thing- serenity.

Ironically, I often find myself frustrated when pursuing serenity. With 14 years of Christianity behind me and 8 years of Al-Anon in tow, I feel as though I should "be serene" and "full of wisdom" sometime soon; as though after these few years of practice, I should never have to pray for serenity, courage, and wisdom again. The leaders that I see all around me appear to have mastered serenity and wisdom in their own ways. And seeing my turn at the wheel approaching, I become concerned that I feel like I have not. But there is a nagging little voice in the background that sighs and says that, one, wisdom and impatience don't mix. And two, those leaders probably feel as though wisdom and serenity are just as elusive as I do. I should know better than to "compare their outsides to my insides," as we say in counseling.

I guess I can finally accept the image that someone once projected onto me (quite cryptically) a few years ago as "the woman at the well." I will forever have to go back to the source draw more serenity, courage and wisdom. But I have assurance that it will always be there, available to me, and it will be enough for whatever role I find myself in next.

30 Before 30

2011-01-15T19:45:00.008-06:00

As I look over the new year I am keeping my 30 Before 30 adventures in mind. I accomplished several of my wishes and whims during the cruise including

Visiting another country
Roatan, Honduras:
Belize City, Belize:
Cozumel, Mexico:
Kayaking, which we were able to do in beautiful Mexico, was also a 30 Before 30 goal

As was going on the cruise itself.

I find myself starting 2011 with a great start on my 30 Before 30. I had accomplished my January goal at the end of 2010. I had hoped to "volunteer with an outreach ministry" in the form of manual labor....doing yard work, sorting clothes, or visiting a women's shelter. But the bulk of the hands-on volunteering was done when I was driving from Los Angeles to Houston with my sisters in October, and the next local volunteer event is not until March. (Unless I'd like to volunteer with children's Sunday school or the nursery during the service, to which I say nooooo, thank you.) The volunteers that were needed at the church in November and December were shoppers to pick up food for Thanksgiving and toys for Christmas. Ironically, the Christmas box I put together was destined for a 9 year old child in Honduras, which is where I ended up visiting on my cruise.

The last thing I was able to "check off" early was playing a round of golf. I bought a set of clubs so that I wouldn't break Greg's expensive ones as I hacked away at the ground, attempting to hit the ball. Greg patiently taught me how to use the various clubs at the driving range, and soon I was anxious to put my meager learning into practice. I've played TWICE now.

On my handy table, I'm noting the date I've accomplished things, or keeping notes about progress I'm making on multi-step goals. I'm not opposed to shuffling my goals around if I can't meet them by the goal month, but so far I've done everything as scheduled. Next up is to fly in a small plane, and much to my delight I actually discovered a small airport very close-by. I expect I could hitch a ride there.

2010
Sept Hair cut	9/22/10 Zen
Oct Register with BetheMatch	9/22/10 BetheMatch
Nov Do 2nd Triathlon	10/10/10 Cypress Medical Center 10/24/10 Katy Firethorn
Dec Visit Another country	12/15/10-12/17/10 Honduras, Belize, Mexico

2011
Jan Volunteer with outreach ministry	11/2010 Thanksgiving food drive 12/2010 Christmas box for Honduras
Feb Visit Sharon in LA	10/15/10 to 10/18/10 LA to Houston
Mar Ride on small plane
Apr MS 150	Scheduled: 4/2011
May Go on a cruise	12/12/10 Royal Caribbean
Jun Go kayaking	12/17/10 Cozumel
Jul Visit relatives in Minnesota
Aug Apply to PhD/PsyD
Sep Try small group at church	9/25/10 Sacred Marriage
Oct Hike the grand canyon
Nov Volunteer Initiatives Ride Along	Registered online VIP
Dec Snowboard again

2012
Jan Teach an adjunct class
Feb Have parTAY	Scheduled 5/2011
Mar Publish my article
Apr Play a round of golf	11/7/10
May Become a certified Red Cross volunteer
Jun Go tubing
Jul Dog training class
Aug Take a motorcycle lesson
Sep Finish my 3 year supply of "Best of" movies
Oct Study Spanish and take bi-lingual test at work	Studying
Nov Get Distance ED certification
Dec Drive Sheila over 200,000 miles	5,500 more!

2013
Jan Finish Jordan series	2 more books!
Feb Reduce debt by 75%	24% done!

The Return of Wednesdays

2011-01-15T14:14:00.005-06:00

Last week I returned home from an errand to find two fire trucks blocking one entrance to my street along with three white utility-type fire trucks scattered around. There were firemen standing around chatting, some of them entering or exiting the grassy field behind the subdivision where Tracy and Sahara love to track monsters, chase balls, and play hide and seek. My neighbor said she never saw smoke, and I never found out exactly what happened. So on Wednesday me and dogs went to check it out.

By the looks of the area- clean edges, no tree or property damage- I would guess maybe it was a controlled burn to avoid accidental fire in the very high grass and weeds. After all, teenagers appear to take over the area at night leaving behind beer cans, remnants of camp fires, and broken patio furniture. There's a recipe for a brush fire.

Tracy and Sahara thought the new field was amazing. Tracy had no trouble finding her bright green tennis ball among the black and brown charred expanse.

Sahara was delighted that her treasured deer skull was now perfectly visible in the remains of the high grass into which I had throw it a few months ago. I still wouldn't let her roll in it though.

The $800 Bruise

2011-01-07T11:12:00.003-06:00

Last weekend Greg and I headed to our favorite bike shop to purchase our last Christmas present- the road bike that Greg planned to get me for the MS 150 and my general biking enjoyment. They are expensive little boogers, and we had our eye on a fabled lowest-end bike that may go for $500 or $600. When we arrived we learned that the cheapest they had was $650. Plus, as it turned out, not only was the bike we heard about available only at a competing store, but it was now priced at $750 anyway. The helpful bike guy said that for the features of the bike, $750 was a good price, and that I could locate this competing shop just up the road. I am pretty loyal to my favorite bike shop though, and the guy had been so helpful….I decided to test ride one of the bikes that they carry. He selected a sleek looking bike that seemed to weigh about 3 ounces, stating that it was the most comparable to the fabled bike that I had come in asking about. He took about 25 minutes to adjust the tires, handlebars, and gears, and then adjust the seat according to my own biking posture and angle of my joints and all this very precise stuff. Then he told me to take 'er on a spin around the parking lot.

"Well," I said sheepishly, "I had a lot of trouble turning on a road bikes when I tried one once. And it was a little hard to pedal. I'm used to my mountain bike."

"Oh really," he said interestedly. "Maybe the tires weren't inflated all the way? Road bikes should generally move very easily, smooth."

'Hmm,' I thought….'this guy doesn't seem too worried…maybe it was just the bike I tried out before…'

So I took 'er out into the parking lot.

With freshly pumped tires the bike was a-maz-ING. I swear the bike is about 15 lbs lighter than my mountain bike. I didn't seem to have any trouble at all….it was so easy to pedal, I was flying! Until I reached the end of the parking lot. ……And this is when I discovered that I do still have trouble turning.

I successfully turned away from the absolute end of the parking lot. And ran right into the adjoining left side of the parking lot…a low concrete curb enclosing some kind of flower bed area. Greg saw a shower of dirt explode upwards from my fall. I briefly brushed clods of soil from my right shoulder, elbow, hip, knee, and leg, and hurriedly located the price tag on the bike. On sale for $799.99. I then inspected said bike. The right hand shifter/brake was bent out of place by about 20 degrees, plus had grass, clayish dirt, and what appeared to be straw poking out of all of its fine edges and seams. The bike saddle sustained a scrape.

Greg, thankfully, was laughing and asked if I'm okay.

"I fell over," I said, dirt still caked on my jeans and feigning a pout.

"Did we just buy a $2,000 bike?" he asked next. Not so easily distracted, this one….

"No, it's $800, I said," bending the shifter back into place and picking the straw out of it.

"Well I guess that's a bargain for a bike and a good story," he said. (Compared to $2,000, yes.)

I could have gotten away with crashing the bike and leaving. The bike guy didn't inspect the bike initially because he was busy with other customers, and once he did, he didn't force us to buy it. But I sincerely loved the bike, and the bike guy had spent almost an hour with us already on top of that. I had already been elbowing Greg in the ribs to pick out some biking gear to buy from this guy even before I crashed the bike so that we wouldn't walk away from him empty handed. Plus, like the bike mechanic told me as he was bending the shifter back (properly), "You already got your first wipe out over with! We should throw in some elbow and knee pads while you're here though…" he joked.

(About 10 minutes post-crash....I tried hard to clean up, but upon close inspection I have telltale dirt patches all down my leg and some kind of skid marks on my shoulder...)

I thought that I had escaped the incident unscathed, but as I learned 2 hours later, I actually sustained quite a nasty bruise to my left shin. I don't know if it hit the bike or the curb or what, but after the adrenaline wore off (or whatever) I discovered the bruise because even the mechanics of walking hurt.

Losing a high stakes game of gravity, inertia, and geometry: $800

An awesome bike, an unlikely boast, and gnarly bruise: priceless ;-)

And that is how my bike came to be. Me, my bike and my bruise lived happily ever after. My husband decided never to let me test drive anything expensive ever again.

Subtle communication

2011-01-03T17:46:00.001-06:00

"Don't make any sudden movements," Sphinx glared, "or the amp gets it."

I really do think Sphinx knew that pushing a delicate object to the edge of the high cabinets would get attention. I think it was premeditated; that it was an attempt to communicate.

...that she was trying to speaker mind.

Maybe she should have stereo. Typed.

Maybe she assumed she was a natural enemy of something called a woofer.

Or maybe she just acted fast to turn the tables when she realized the stereo had us surrounded.

...whew bored at work, ignore me.

Cruising the Caribbean

2010-12-26T14:01:00.013-06:00

Greg and I went on a spectacular Caribbean cruise for our honeymoon. I was most excited about the ports we were visiting-- Honduras, Belize, and Mexico. I wanted to seek out the culture of these places. I wanted to try the local food, see their homes and market places, and listen to foreign languages. I was also thrilled to experience the cruise itself, try the hundreds of amenities and activities on the ship, and indulge in the famously exquisite cruise food, but I was anxious about not knowing proper mores, etiquette, and rules. I wondered how many forks and glasses would be in front of me at dinner, and mentally revisited the advice that Molly Brown gave to Jack in the movie Titanic on this topic: "start from the outside and work your way in." Overall, I anticipated being more at home exploring the foreign countries than in the luxurious cruise culture.

Our port days were amazing. I think we chose the absolute best activities in each country, allowing us to explore Central America from the depths of the ocean (snorkeling in Cozumel)

to the tops of the trees (ziplining through the rain forest of Belize)

and we even made a few friends along the way. (Margie the dolphin in Honduras)

As expected, assimilating to cruise culture was much more tricky for me. I read all of the instructions provided in our room and on our interactive Tv menu, learning where to eat on the ship? What to wear? What not to wear? What's included already and what's extra? Where's aft? Where's port? When do we tip? How to check in and out at a port?....... I absolutely loved all of the activities on the ship, and all of the staff were incredibly friendly and helpful. Still, I couldn't help but wonder when is the last time someone served the wait staff a 3 course unlimited lobster dinner? Or brought them an unexpected cheese and fruit assortment to compliment a meal? After the room attendant cleans our balcony suite and arranges the extra towels into a different animal shape for each day of the cruise, what kind of state room does he retire to?

When is the last time the staff members, from all over the globe, have even seen their families?

Part of me settled quite comfortably into this life style. Greg and I made sure to eat in the main dining room with the unlimited gourmet food for every lunch and dinner that we could, as opposed to the casual buffet dining available for extended meal hours. Every meal is 3 courses, always boasting such fancy (as I would say, "friggin classy") options as crab, scallops, truffles, duck, lamb, and lobster. All of the food is included, and you can order as much, and as many different choices, of each course that you'd like. "Order all of the entrees if you want!" several veteran cruisers encouraged us. The cruise director said that guests gain an average of 15 pounds on on cruise, and that's completely believable to me. Having worked out every day in the "Ship Shape" fitness center (ha its a pun...), I walked away with 5 souveneir lbs.

(When I was on the treadmill I liked to pretend that I was powering the ship myself)
(Nothing like some open-air yoga surrounded by the ocean)

After about four days of this luxury, Greg and I were eating dinner in the main dining room. I had a impressive 4 cheese tortellini dish with cream sauce in front of me. After trying a bite of the pasta I had the distinct thought, narrated in a curt and serious tone: "This is not al dente." And I burst into giggles. I knew then I had been on the ship too long. Greg and I agreed that we were happy to bask in the excess of the cruise for a few more days, and then we would gladly return to the real world.

A world in which we read daily news. We communicate with loved ones. We make our own bed and cook our own food, even if it is mac and cheese. We use a maximum of one fork and glass per meal. And if we do happen to dress up, our outfits are accented by a smattering of dog and cat hair.

(This is the day we returned from the cruise. I think the pets missed us....)

The cruise was so amazing. The best vacations are the kind that you can enjoy so thoroughly that you look forward to returning to your 'real life' refreshed and energized. Welcome back to home, sweet home!

Newlyweds

2010-12-20T10:37:00.002-06:00

Greg and I set off on our honeymoon last weekend after our beautiful family wedding. The dogs knew something was going on all week, and Tracy sneakily tried to slip into Greg's garment bag last Sunday as to not get left behind.

But left behind with their "grandparents," they were, as we cruised the Caribbean in luxury for one week with NO phones or email.

The trip was a-MAZING. Blog posts to come, whenever I eventually have time to sort through my hundreds of pics after catching back up with the emails, letters, Christmas gifts, appointments, WORK, laundry, food and general tasks of daily life. Anyone care to cook me free a lobster tail tonight, serve it to me on a silver platter, de-shell it for me and offer melted garlic butter to top it?

No?

Oh well, then. It's back to Mac and cheese

4 10s

2010-12-02T14:21:00.000-06:00

I have all of my most important clients on Wednesdays.

Victory!

2010-11-29T09:20:00.001-06:00

I fought the clock and the...no, I WON! I woke up at 5am today no problem! Even though I accidentally stayed up until 10:45 reading the 12th book in the Jordan series, the first one written by Brandon Sanderson after Jordan's death. Good job, Brandon! It was a wise choice not to try and imitate Jordan's style, and you are doing an admirable job of closing this epic series. With the end of my own 10 year journey through the series so close, I can't put these books down!

So needless to say I'll have to lock the book away somewhere tomorrow night so I don't stay up reading. I have a feeling that waking up tomorrow will not be quite so easy, without the cushion of a fabulous 4 day weekend behind me that I had today.