Why blog...

...when you can just go for blood tests?

Well, it seems my case of shingles is so mild that I actually don't have them. There's something wrong with how you earn a living when you'd rather have shingles than show up at work. Maybe not quite, but it's a coin toss.

The short story of the ongoing Health Caucus 08 is that my suspected case of shingles turned into not being shingles but then the doctor(s) were perplexed with some odd symptoms I was having (including numbness in my right arm), fevers, lethargy. I was ordered to the ER with a perscription and described as looking "fachada." My sister, Roni, has diagnosed it as Blogitis only to be cured by locking up my computer and throwing away the keyboard. That Roni.

Once in the ER, blood was drawn by an 80 pound resident. If I closed my eyes, I was certain that it was a 300 pound gorilla working the tubes. The ER said everything looked okay. Not so, says my internist the next morning. Come into my office this afternoon. It seems the results from the ER showed an extreme decline in my iron to the tune of about 30% drop in just one month. The doctor drew new blood and I had a day to again, imagine my children motherless, only to find out that the ER results were actually incorrect and I am fine. It's enough to raise your blood pressure and mine is holding steady at 100/60. As my mother would ask, "Are you sure you're breathing?"

Back to earning a living. Just in time to return to the office to a resignation; a splitting of accounts back into our offices in Manhattan and back with me into a newly formed department (so new, they don't even know what its purpose is yet) in Manhattan. I'm actually looking forward to being back in the city as it is definitely time for a change. Now if I could glean a few more details of the position, that might be good.

I wish I could be enthusiastic but I'm tired of earning a living and not really enjoying how it is I do that. But short of sitting home in our "playroom", making something artisitc (more specific than that, I can't be) and looking into our backyard, I don't think I'd be happy. Change of scenery of course takes care of that for a while.

Maybe in the meantime, my ship will come in. Boy do I sound wistful and pathetic or what? Maybe I should just make absolutely sure that I don't have shingles...

L'chaim

Drink to your health!

It all started with a bad case of indigestion that awakened me one night. I was having shooting pains and Scissors made me some secret special tea that his Mom picks from the wilds of Queens (don't laugh - the stuff is miraculous). I even considered for a brief moment a trip to the ER. I'll spare you all the details that lead me from TUMS to toilet, but suffice to say - I called my doctor and made an appointment for a checkup.

For the past month, I've had sonograms/various "oscopies" and to cover everything, a mole checking. No not the kind in the ground - on my body. I am now wrapping up Health Caucus 08 with tomorrow's mammogram/sonogram. At the end of the day, I blame the horrific heartburn on a bad batch of undercooked homemade french fries and the bad news is - I have shingles. Oy.

The good news (I am so very much hoping) is that it was caught early so I'm taking anti-viral meds to hopefully stave off the severity and length of the attack because as it stands - not feeling so good. Basically it appears as a welt of sorts on my scalp, actually several of them and they hurt. And I take Tylenol and so far it calms it down. What I've noticed over these couple of days now is that as the day progresses, it gets worse and I start to feel a bit fluish by nightfall with my head and neck really hurting and feeling numb at the same time.

I think this may account for some of my more than cranky feelings of late and I'd say that it's time to hunker down and take good care. Tali was already pitching in after school, getting Julian to hang up his coat and they were rearranging their shoes in the closet which lead to Julian "sleeping" on one of the shelves in the closet and pillows all over the floor. It's good to see they can rise to the occasion.

Alright then, I guess I'd better listen to my body and get to bed early. I feel badly as I'm not getting around to my circle of buddies as I'd like to, but you are all in my thoughts and I hope that life is treating you well.

PS: By the way, as I took out my web MD diploma and started checking around about shingles, I came across this helpful advice for the caregivers:

"Do something you enjoy; read a book, listen to your favorite music, watch TV, go for a walk, indulge in a bubble bath or participate in a hobby."

Will the caregiver have time to care for the person? In this case - me. I see where this is going - Scissors and Co. with the music blaring, doing hobbies in a bubble bath fresh from their long walks, whilst I sit ringing my bell for a cup of tea or sympathy.

Please check on me.

If it's Tuesday...

I've got nothing.

Well, I've got plenty of nothing. My computer is on the way to crashing - is that possible, or does it just crash all at once? I can't access anything signed in under my sign-in and so can't get at my pictures/files/basically the G Manifesto that's being developed as you sleep. The volume rises of its own volition like a scene from High Anxiety.

It all goes back to my glaring disregard for all things technology. Do I have anything backed up? Well on a To-Do list somewhere I am very sure.

I'm just a bit tired lately. I've done precious little writing, even less blogging and a lot of time feeling that I'm on a treadmill (which I can assure you I have not been - read previous post for exercise alternatives) going nowhere fast.

I'm not sure when the haze set in. I feel as if there are things that I need to get up on my roof with a megaphone and start shouting "Hey you - thinking it's all about you who has two kids! Yeah you! Wake up, as you've spent their entire life not caring for them! Yes you." I can assure you this is not self directed as (and not to give myself a pat on the parental back), but I have spent precious little time thinking of anything else but being a good parent since my kids came into this world. Not always to our own glowing reviews, but I know that Scissors and I give it our all. No, this is someone, I - know.

"Oh, hey you! Thinking that life is hopeless. I'm reading up on slavery as Tali studies in school. You want hopeless - imagine being in their place. Yeah you!"

"Oh here comes the one I've been waiting for - yeah you! You. The ones who send me emails enticing me to school functions with the promise of "250 of NYC's most influential moms." Influential, you say? Where do you stand on ProChoice? Where do you stand on Darfur? What stands of the candidates are you interested in? Oh, silly me - not that kind of influential! Riight."

I overheard the query of a Dad at a recent school function to another Mom in the class about the daughter's coat. "No, not that Peppie Le Precocious - My Sweet Little Skunk, the other French brand. Is that what you call influential? I thought so. I'm not influenced, I'm nauseated. Yeah you!"

Sooo, with all of this angst and nowhere to place it, oh wait a hot NYC influential parent moment (yes QUEENS is part of NYC) - I have a blog!

I'm a blogger!

And as Joe E. Brown replied in Some Like it Hot...oh wait, if it's Tuesday (never mind that will change in one hour) - there must be something new to show you (or in this case something that never gets old):

If it's Tuesday...

there must be something new to show you.

Never mind that it is almost Wednesday. Again.

But before I show you, I'm going to tell you. Tell you how vexed I am at emails to bloggers from all manner of marketing angles. This one from a "kids club" which is apparently an exercise club for kids. As excerpted from their charming email which just has me running to join them:

"I just wanted to follow up with you because I think I wasn't clear enough that I know you're not a NYC mommy or daddy blogger -- I was just hoping you could help me deliver this invitation to a good home. And since you're a blogger, I was hoping I could tap into your double-secret blogger cabal -- you simply must know some folks in New York City. Please have them visit ______________________for full details about these events, including RSVP information."

It goes on to say...

"If you may recall, this is an exclusive blogger day event at the premier kids club of New York City. Why should your NYC friends attend? Our talented instructors are on hand during these events to answer questions and guide your children in fun and interesting activities. There will be complimentary drinks and snacks as well as wireless internet access. We invite the whole family to come blog, bounce, surf, and enjoy the afternoon."

Because apparently nothing says exercise like wireless internet access. And I should schlep my kids from Queens (although part of NYC - not Manhattan) and come hang out and access wireless internet for my kids to get exercise? Well then, may I publicly and politely decline your invitation? Oh and in parting, the last I heard - Queens had not succeeded from NYC.

Now places my kids do go for exercise:

 

THE OVERPASS! Well we do walk there from our home which is exercise. Then, of course, there is the pulling motion of our arms to signal the engineer to blow his horn. On to other places where we get exercise...

 

The ice cream counter of a favorite old time parlor. Here we are celebrating Julian's first concert and apparently where they are laying down plans to overthrow the parental units, who are nearby with their noses in homemade whipped cream.

So thanks for visiting and remember, if it's Tuesday - there must be something new to show you!

The Ghost of Homework Past

...or why I suck as a parent sometimes.

I'm beginning to think that I'm turning myself into a freakin' martyr. Nothing would displease me more. Thankfully it is the end of the week so this feeling that I just have to rip off the layers of my existence until it is only me and nothing or no-one else around me isn't as acute as if it were a Monday night, say.

Well, look at that 9:45 am tomorrow - appointment with "Dr. Roberts." Perhaps I should just print this and hand it to him. Then he'll nod and pull out his prescription pad and in a scene reminiscent of the Ralphie teacher essay grading fantasy in Christmas Story, write up my new scrip.

And all of this had nothing to do with homework. I'm thinking I'd better get to bed because I have a certain daughter to awaken in the am to see if a night's sleep will have awoken her creative juices. I go from putting Julian to bed and of course nodding off doing so to plopping across the table from the daughter who is sullenly doing anything but her homework assignment (we won't talk about the spilled toothpicks or the two hours squandered when she got home). I'm sorry, sometimes I don't have it in me to inspire or offer beginnings or spoon feed how to approach an assignment.

Sometimes you just have to come up with it on your own, kid. Hey, maybe I don't suck at this parenting thing after all.

Don't I feel better now. Maybe ever so slightly. Good night.

If it's Tuesday...

there must be something new to show you.

Via one of my favorite home/design blogs, Apartment Therapy, I offer an alternative to crashing on relatives' couches or costly hotel stays whilst work (or in this case, fumigation) is being taken care of in your home. Pia, are you listening?

Comedian/filmmaker Mark Malkoff of the Colbert Report has moved into Ikea for a week and is documenting his stay here, fittingly titled, MARK LIVES IN IKEA.

Hope this has been helpful because if it's Tuesday, there must be something new to show you!

Never mind that it's almost Wednesday.

FOOTNOTE: You don't have to look like Stephen Colbert to work for him, but it helps!

UPDATE: Tali and I called Ikea this evening to speak to Mark. We first went to a national call center and asked to be transferred to the Paramus store which we were after assuring the call center we needed to speak to somebody in Office Furniture. We got to an operator and we asked for Mark. We were a little surprised when they put us right through...to Mark's assistant. Needing a reason to call Mark, I asked to speak to him and was told he wasn't able to come to the phone right now. "ohhh" I replied "we were interested in a sleep sofa of Ikea's and was wondering if he might test them out and let us know which he thinks is best."

"That's a great question" she chimed (read - mollified me. But she didn't know that I was mollifying her mollifying me). "Why don't you come on down and visit."

"Well I just might." I replied.

And I just may. But you know with things like work and school, it would be a real effort to go to Paramus, NJ. Let me call Mark. I wonder if he's sleeping yet...

Wild Thing!

This was originally sent to me via email from the Wildlife Conservation Society - New York Zoos and Aquarium. It's quite fun. You can make your own composite wildlife self. Here's what I would look like in wild form:


Well that doesn't really hold a candle to my punk days. The funny thing is - it kind of looks like me. Go on, make your own wild self HERE Click on the link "Build Your Wild Self."

After seeing my wild personae, Julian and I went back to make one for him. Building your wild self starts off quite mundanely with type of shorts, shirt, etc. Easy enough. Then you move onto animal legs, headdress and so on and so forth. That's where Julian began to rebel. I'd try to talk him into something exotic and he'd say "no, no - not that one" bringing it back to regular hair or shoes. Something about being an animal does not appeal to him.

Give it a try. You make everythang groovy!

A New Year Begins and I Recall Times Past...

Here's to hopes being fulfilled this year for you all.

I had a get together at my oldest brother's this past weekend and as always, it was wonderful to gather. But of course, underlying each gathering is a poignant sadness reserved at the head of the table for where my Mom should be. Just a few of us - two sisters, said brother and one sister-in-law took a walk down a back path to get some fresh air and as we walked along, I said "oh my...I thought that woman was Mommy for a second!" and my sister replied "so did I!" Only later in talking to my older sister who was walking ahead did she say the very same thing. I guess it's just wishful thinking on our parts.

I was looking through an old writing notebook of Tali's (all the way when she was a lowly third grader) and found this which is excerpted from her overall entry of "My Aunt Trish and Mommy's Mommy Came":

I went back upstairs to play with my dolls. I played and played, and played. I waited and waited, and waited. Finally my aunt came upstairs and my brother turned on "Let it be" so he could dance with Mommy's mommy. My mom joined in. Then I did, and then my aunt did.

Mommy's Mommy was the name that stuck since Tali was a wee one. That's who she'll always be to my kids. I remember above day so well. I remember Julian crying out for her to dance and her joining in. I remember Tali dressing Julian up as a girl and him getting into character and my Mom laughing so heartily. It was a good day.

Anyway, not really a New Years post, but you know I did want to have one up to start the year in the right fashion. I also would be remiss if I didn't mention how great it's been to get to know each of you and I so enjoy each blog that I visit for your unique perspectives.

Here's hoping that 2008 brings us each what we need, which you'll recall may not necessarily be what we want.



Forty years ago? Let's enjoy today. Happy New Year!