My Truant Pen

The Guilt-go-round

So I went to the doctor for me today. About a fortnight ago I got this cough. It’s really kind of a funny cough — it tickles my throat all the time, but I can go for quite a long spell without coughing, especially when I’m not talking much. But when I get a coughing fit, I find myself coughing every 5 minutes for even hours at a time; this barking, irresistible impulse.

I ignored it.

Saturday, I spiked the fever and slept the day out. I felt better on Sunday, so despite the remaining cough I figured I was better! Yay better! You know how coughs are sometimes trailing indicators.

But by the end of the day yesterday, I was so darn wiped out I had to admit: I’m not better.

I hated taking the time to go to the doctor. Yesterday I had Thane’s 6 month checkup. (More later on that — all it well.) Then I had Grey’s open house for preschool. (See also: more later.) I pump twice a day. I visit my sons at lunch almost every day. There have been sick days and paranoid days and doctor’s appointments and dentist appointments. And I just didn’t want to spend any more time on all that. (I’m very fortunate to have plenty of sick time TO take, I just don’t like to bunch it all together, you know?)

Then when I got to the doctor, the eyebrow was raised when I said how long I’d been sick. She looked at my chart, and noticed that I’d completely blown off my prescribed well-grownup cholesterol tests etc. (In my defense I went to take them once, only to discover that they were 12 hour fasting tests. Then I gave up.)

“You need to take CARE of yourself” she said censoriously. If I had a dollar for every time I’d heard that, I could pay for all-day preschool. It’s hard to be the mom. There are these stacks of things that need doing. You can only defer laundry so long before you run out of super-hero undies. (Note: I have purchased sufficient super-hero undies that this extremis only arrives after about 16 days if there aren’t an undo number of accidents.) We only have so many sippy cups AND counter space, so the dishes really do have to happen periodically. And people get grumpy if their bills don’t get paid after a week or two. And let’s be clear here — my husband pulls his weight. But even with two oxen in the harness, the furrows just don’t all get plowed before the sun sets. If you push off the chores because it’s a fantastically beautiful Sunday in spring, then you better not pull the “oh and I think I have pneumonia” crap on Thursday. (And by the way, chest x-rays confirm it’s not pneumonia. It’s bronchitis.)

I find myself in this untenable position of trying to do what needs to be done, do those things which make life worth the living, and making the compromises in my own life to permit it to happen. Then I get called on the carpet for my martyr syndrome and told that it is somehow self-indulgent of me to make choices like toughing it out when I’m sick because I’d rather have that sunny Sunday than an afternoon lying in bed drinking tea. There’s this aura of disapproval around how much I try to do.

I have been accused of martyr syndrome. I do admit that sometimes I get caught up in a martyred attitude of “look how selfless I am!” but I think I’ve done that less and less lately. These days it’s a more intentional and aware tradeoff. I have come to realize that at this time of life, it’s just not going to be about me. I’m not going to get to read many books cover to cover. I’m not going to get to stamp cards while listening to baseball every week. There isn’t going to be this big reliable block of time that is all about what I want to do. But this won’t be forever. And there are the moments of grace when suddenly there ARE two hours available for wine-dark seas. Someday, my boys will be readers too and time I now spend wiping bottoms and putting away onesies will be time I can instead spend reading on the couch with my guys.

I don’t resent the choices I’m making (most of the time). We’re having an awesome time together as a family, but because our boys need so much attention, there is more corporate time and less individual time. That’s ok.

I do resent being told that I should feel guilty about not having time for myself. I resent the implication that I’m making up how much there is to do, or doing work that doesn’t really need doing.

Grey and monkey think mommy needs more coffee

Thoughts on pandemic flu

It seems as though, at least for now, Swine Flu is not “the big one”. Lot’s of people are complaining about how the media has hyped it up and sensationalized it, how there are already tens of thousands of deaths a year due to regular flu, and how this was all really a tempest in a teacup.

My perspective on the issue is rather different.

The kind of flu pandemic we are worried about will be one to which we have no prior immunity. This means that more people will get sick and people who do get sick will be sicker. For the regular flu, most adults have some previous carry-over immunity.
On a related note, MOST of the time, there is a vaccine available for the regular flu. That helps spread out the rate of transmission, means fewer people are infected and the infections are less serious, and can help halt transmission. For a scary-new pandemic flu, that will not be true.
In the 1918 flu pandemic, which killed more than twice the number of people killed in WWI (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1918_flu_pandemic), the people who were mostly likely to die were the strong, healthy adults. With the regular flu, the people most likely to die are the very young and the very old. (Really, if you think that everyone was overreacting, read the Wikipedia article on 1918 and think again.)
With the 1918 flu, up to 5% of infected individuals died. That pandemic cost us Gustav Klimpt and Bill Yawkey (of Yawkey way) as well as 70 to 100 million other mother’s children.
I have heard, although I can’t find support for this, so it may just be false memory, that some victims of the 1918 pandemic died within 12 hours of showing symptoms.
If infection rates are very high, our superior medical technology won’t help THAT much. We only have so many ventilators and doctors. Our emergency rooms normally run at or over capacity. If 20% of the population is sick, you cannot count on a hospital bed, ventilator and focussed attention.

So do I think the response we just had to the flu was an overreaction? Absolutely not. We aren’t out of the woods yet on this one right now — it might take a nasty turn. We certainly aren’t out of the woods on this virus. As the 1918 flu pandemic happened, the first wave was mild, the second brutally lethal.

Even if it happens to pass that this mutation never takes a turn for the nastier — which God willing it won’t — the efforts we have spent have NOT been in vain. In the first place, there was no way of knowing whether this would be a big deal or not ahead of time. The world needed to act as though it was going to be as bad as 1918 and hope that it would be wrong on the “overreacting” side. Who knows? Maybe if we hadn’t slowed it down or stopped it, there was some person in whom it was going to mix with another virus or mutate and take that nasty turn. These actions MAY have prevented it.

But most importantly, chances are good that some day the world will face a viral pandemic like the 1918 flu. This episode has provided us with an excellent chance to practice. I would not be surprised, for example, for people to realize we need more early tracking all over the globe. I also wouldn’t be surprised if plans were changed. For instance, it quickly became clear that the pace of global travel meant clamping down on infected areas was useless. Lots of the transmission was from people in richer countries who had vacationed in Mexico. When you mean shut the borders, do you really mean strand your 19 year old daughter in Cancun and don’t let her come home from her spring break?

So no. I’m sure the media enjoyed the ratings, but they didn’t make this up or play it for all it was worth for no reason. We were not — still are not — sure how this will all fall out. And a influenza pandemic remains a very real and very scary risk.

NOTE: This page has a great breakdown on flu deaths in regular circumstances:
http://www.wrongdiagnosis.com/f/flu/deaths.htm

Relieve your minds

Just to let you all know that I felt much, much better this morning. Out of an abundance of caution I went nowhere where I could’ve infected anyone, but we did end up going on maybe a 4 mile hike (up and down and up and down — we hadn’t planned on that being so long but we got lost). Then we had ice cream. Then I made an awesome dinner.

It was a good day.

Flu

I have a flu. I’m running a temperature of 99.2, slept until 3 pm and generally feel like a dishrag. I don’t think there’s anything dangerous going on, I just feel crappy. I’m really not up to any parenting at all. My husband has felt better in his life too. It’s a gorgeous day and we’re really in no position to enjoy it.

Based on zero evidence, I don’t think this is swine flu. I’m pretty sure it’s not a dangerous flu — it certainly doesn’t feel like the worst one I’ve ever had.

Did I mention I feel crappy? Thane seems a little under the weather too. Grey is cranky because no one will pay attention to him.

Fun!

Robot Papa

Grey is still very much processing his grandfather’s death. There’s a certain spot on our commute home that must remind him of Michael, because he often talks about him as we pass it. This was last night’s conversation:

Grey: Mommy, is Papa STILL dead? (Sounding aggrieved that Papa hasn’t gotten over this “dead” thing yet.)
Mommy: Yes Grey, Papa is still dead.
Grey: When he going to stop being dead?
Mommy: Not in this world as we know it, Grey. (Note: I know too much about theology. The less confusing answer is that he isn’t, but I believe in the resurrection and the life everlasting, so I go with confusing.)
Grey: Why he dead?
Mommy: Well, he had lived his life. He was a baby, then he was a boy, then he was a young man, then he was a grownup, then he was an old man. Then he got sick and he died. (Subtext: don’t worry, kiddo. Neither you nor we are going anywhere soon, God willing.)

** pause for thinking **

Grey: I have an idea! (He holds up his finger to show that yes! An idea!)
Grey: We could make a ROBOT Papa!
Mommy: **nearly drives off the road giggling**

If only we could make a Robot Papa, son. You’ll just have to make do with your memories.

Would Robot Papa help Grey write stories?

What I spend my brain cells on

Usually at lunch I head across the bridge to daycare. It’s maybe a mile and a half. Four stoplights. It takes longer than you think it should, but I get to daycare in under 10 minutes, spend 15 minutes with the boys and head back. It’s a nice interlude in my day.

On Monday, they closed the bridge for repairs. I can’t really argue. It needed it. The bridge was built in the 1800s and is made out of a metal mesh. You can see under your tires to water — by design. It wobbles when you cross it. It’s hardly confidence-inspiring. It will probably be closed for a month. Right now I have a great view of the construction and there is a very large hole in the approach to the bridge. Your stimulus dollars at work.

This is all well and good, but it makes that trip to daycare longer. This is compounded by the fact that the NEXT bridge up the river is ALSO under construction and has been for ages. This I consider to be bad planning. Finish one first THEN move on to the next bridge.

So what do I do at lunch?

My options are:
1) Walk to daycare. Tempting in the nice weather. Will take longer than the budgeted amount of time.
2) Drive to daycare. I’m trying various alternate routes to see which one is least obnoxious.
3) Use lunch to go check out preschools. This is probably what I should do instead of hanging out with my three year old peeps.

I keep deciding to do one. Then changing my mind. Then changing it again. I have half an hour until it’s time to go, and I still have no idea which one I’m going to do!

I’m working on this query that has so far taken 25 minutes and isn’t done yet. (Which would be why I’m working on it.) I wonder if it will be done before it’s time to go! Working on performance always takes forever because every time you test it, by definition it takes a long time!

UPDATE:
I walked. It was lovely. It’s about 15 minutes each way. (You can still cross the bridge on foot.)

And the query took 38 minutes and 33 seconds. While it was running I rewrote it. It now takes less than three seconds. I could probably file it down further if I spent some time on it.

Thane at six months

Thane’s six month doctor’s appointment isn’t until next week, but no one has informed him that he should continue acting like a 5 month old until then. Thane has changed vastly last month to this month. He’s certainly started to move. He’s still trying to put together all the pieces for crawling. I kept encouraging him yesterday, informing him of the 6 month press deadline, but he hasn’t quite gotten to the first crawling stage. Watch this space, though, because it’s not far off. What he is doing is moving by way of rolling, waving his body, and going around and around like the hands of some chubby, cute clock. And oh does he WANT to move.

Which brings us to milestone two: having very strong opinions. One of the milestones in “What to Worry About: The First Year” is objecting when a toy is taken away. Babies don’t notice when they lose a toy. Proto-toddlers do. (The most hilarious/frustrating stage is when they want a toy, you give it to them, they throw it, and then they cry because jeez! They want that toy! Thane’s not there yet, but very close.) As I was taking these pictures I was attempting to coax Thane into sitting unsupported long enough to get some good pictures of it. (He was doing that before I got the camera!) While doing that, he accidentally pushed away his toy and then burst into heartrending wails of despair because his toy! Was gone! WOE!!!!! So chalk that milestone up as accomplished.

Sitting is not quite there yet. If I prop him up, he can sit for a while. He USUALLY is smart enough to fall to the side, into a comfy crawling position, instead of thumping backwards onto the hard floor. He doesn’t seem to really like sitting unsupported much, and will only do so for as long as he has a neat toy in his lap. I think this is 50/50 ability/desire at this point.

Thane has gotten extremely grabby. I thought he was before but now he REALLY is. Anything within the surprisingly large radius is liable to be pulled towards him. Favorites include the cats, his brother’s hair (both brother and cats are very long-suffering), any noses, earrings, and spoons full of peas and/or prunes. The spoon thing is SO FRUSTRATING. The child will be hungry and piteously wailing about how much he’d please like some yummy sweet potatoes, meanwhile his two waving hands are more effective than anti-aircraft artillery about knocking away incoming sweet-potato-projectiles.

We’re still sort of in flux with food. For a while there we cut way back on solids. They went in fantastically. They came out with less ease. Then he got an ear infection, which prompted a nursing strike which threw my production for a loop. Then he got antibiotics which gave him diarrhea (two rs! That’s it!) which meant we could give him solids. Then he recovered from the ear infection and antibiotics and got REALLY HUNGRY and my production isn’t keeping up and I’m not in the habit of giving him that many solids. Also, he would like you to know that he may be hungry, but he isn’t hungry enough to eat peas, thankyouverymuch.

It’s been very interesting to watch my sweet, smily, sunny child develop opinions. Instead of a default of happy, he now sometimes decides he doesn’t like something. Most of the time, what he doesn’t like is sitting still. We still get the 100 watt gummy smiles (no teeth yet!) but he is also showing more frustration.

Happily, one of the things that makes Thane very happy indeed is Big Brother Grey. The love and affection that already passes between the two of them makes my heart gooey. Grey patiently puts up with having his hair pulled. He distracts a fussy Thane with funny faces, goofy voices or silly games, often without my asking. He restores lost toys with cheer. He talks about all the things Thane will do when Thane is a big boy like Grey. He often wants to play family, where there’s a mommy, a daddy, a Grey and a Thane. His animal babies are all named Thane and all treated with tender lovingcare. For his part, Thane rarely looks anywhere else when he can see his brother. (Less than optimal when one is nursing.) Even between tears, Thane will grin at his big brother. You can see the adoration in his deep blue baby eyes for the hero of the nursery. It warms my heart to see it.

I can tell that the next month will bring big changes. There will be sitting and crawling. Perhaps there will be pulling up to standing. There will be throwing and exploring. He may start encountering foods he can serve himself. My baby is turning into a boy. Oh! I will miss the baby! But I will also enjoy the boy.

All done now

I called daycare this morning, and the other kid is fine. He got back from Mexico Saturday. So they didn’t bring Swine Flu back. The boys are at daycare and I am at work. I still can’t figure out whether I was totally justified or completely paranoid. I suspect that when this is all said and done it will look like one or the other, but we don’t know yet.

Saunter Against Hunger

As the economic crisis grows, I’m getting increasingly concerned about hunger — in America and across the world. I can only imagine how devastating it might be to swallow your pride (the only meal of the day) and ask for food help, only to be told there is none.

My church has always had a fantastic team participating in the Walk for Hunger this Sunday. We’ve never done it, but inspired by examples of other young families participating, I thought the Flynns would give it a shot. (The great sacrifice will be just how early it starts in the morning!) Given that one of the participants can’t even crawl, and one of them is three years old and highly distractable, it’s likely to be more of a saunter (we probably won’t make it all 20 — and by probably I mean certainly. I think 2 miles would be an accomplishment). And really, I’m sauntering AGAINST hunger, not for it.

So please support the Flynns Saunter Against Hunger by going to this site and making your pledge:
http://www.projectbread.org/goto/flynnfamily

Contradictions

This period in my life has been full of contradictions. Privately, this has been a wonderful period for my family. My sons are both great. Grey is entering that fun conversational stage, where he starts being useful and asking interesting questions. Thane has, for his short life, been a ray of sunshine. My husband and I are both healthy and employed. We are surrounded by a network of people and have opportunities to do fun and interesting things. (For example, due to surprise babysitting this weekend we got to go see “A Winter’s Tale” on Friday!) Last night we spent at our neighbors house watching our kids play together and sampling the takeout from the new restaurant in town. Frankly, our life is about as good as it could be within the parameters of how things are set up.

But outside the walls of our house and family it is a scary — terrifying — world. For months people have been losing their jobs. I’ve come to dread Fridays as the days when I hear from my friends that they have had layoffs in their company, pay cuts, hours cut, or they have lost their jobs. The drumbeat of climate change hasn’t disappeared. The financial stability of the world is undergoing convulsions. It feels like we’re in the middle of an earthquake and none of us know when the shaking will stop or what the topography will be when it’s done. We also aren’t sure if or when we’ll get knocked in the noggin by falling bricks. Not only that, but this was a very bad weekend for people I love. My brother-in-law shattered his femur (not easy to do) taking roller skating lessons. As in titanium pin, in surgery for hours, will be in rehab for months shattered. Then I heard that a dear and beloved friend from college’s daughter was born this week … and it isn’t all ok. He used the word “life support”. She is in respiratory distress and that sounds terrifying and up in the air and all I can do is pray for them.

And then this Swine Flu thing pops up. I have to admit, flu pandemics are one of my personal nightmares. Everything I’ve learned about the 1916 pandemic scares the skivvies off me. It was worse than WWI, in terms of fatalities. It mostly affected people my age. You could go from fine to dead in like 12 hours. Usually I talk myself out of panic attacks using reason and preparation. Reason isn’t helping me here, and preparation would pretty much require that I hunker down at home with my family and bathe in hand sanitizer.

So today I pulled my boys out of daycare and took them home because of the flu thing. Seriously. For real. I’m writing this during naptime at home.

As I walked in the door at daycare with my boys, I heard Pablito’s voice. As I drove in to work, I thought “Wait a minute. Didn’t Pablito spend last week (Spring Break week) in Mexico on vacation?” I got to work and read about 8 articles on the flu. I finally buckled and explained the situation to my manager and LEFT. I got to daycare and attempted to explain in Spanish that I was having a panic attack over the flu issue and the fact that they’d just flown home from Mexico and I was taking my boys for today and probably tomorrow and to please call me if she heard that anyone was sick. I wiped Grey’s hands and toys with an alcohol swipe. I stopped by Target on my way home and bought baby food, bread, milk and hand sanitizer. I stopped at Starbucks to make sure we had an adequate supply of true necessities. (One pound Sumatra, ground for a flat bottom drip.)

I think this might qualify me as a bona fide loony. But if I hadn’t done that I’d be sitting at work feeling sick to my stomach about whether my sons were contracting fatal diseases while I added a “run now” button.

But then I look out my window and it’s like 70 degrees and gorgeous. Tomorrow is supposed to be 90, and you can’t catch the flu by getting out the inflatable pool and sitting in the back yard drinking Mike’s. It’s a beautiful world and I have a beautiful family and Ellsbury stole home last night and I continue to enjoy myself.

What a strange time in the world!