Happy New Year!

When I was a kid, I always got the post-Christmas blues.  The magic and wonder was over, and it was such a let down.  Especially since it was also time to face a long winter of school and drudgery.

As I got older, the holidays were always just a little sad to begin with.  Each year I'd imagine that next year would be the year I'd finally be in a serious relationship, and then I even let myself imagine that I was just a few years away from having little ones of my own to celebrate with.  And each year I was disappointed.  At least until 6 years ago, that is, when I gave up on finding Mr. Right and took my first dose of Clomid ever on New Year's Eve, and one year after that, when I was finally pregnant with Finn.

I haven't felt any of that let down this year.  I've been chronically exhausted since Thanksgiving, but have had tons of stuff packed into the holidays and managed to get a good amount of shopping and decorating done without losing my mind. We didn't do everything I'd hoped to do, but I am pretty satisfied that this year I made Christmas a memorable and magical one for my boys - not because of the presents, but because of the season itself.

However, this past week I've watched Finn as he struggles with the same post-Christmas funk that I used to always get.  I got him to help me take down our outdoor Christmas lights, and that took the sting out of that.  But he's really resisting taking down Christmas inside.  So tonight, after bed, I got a lot of things put away - most everything that's not the trees, mantle or the Christmas village is safely stowed away. He's going to help me tomorrow - though I think I might give in and leave a few things out for a while if he asks again.

Before heading upstairs to bed tonight, I took one long look at my mantle, lit by just the lights of the Christmas tree.  And I looked at the two stockings hanging there.

"Finnegan" "Zachary"

And out of no where I started to cry. I am so very lucky. And oh my gosh it goes so fast.  If only there were a way to make it all slow down, just a little.  Well, maybe not all of it.  Some of it really sucks.  But the good stuff, the magic stuff, the every day mundane sticky kisses and sly grins - I want to savor that slowly, enjoying every last minute.

Happy 2016!

Happy Christmas!

It's Christmas night - the end of a lovely, crazy, stressful, funny Christmas. Two exhausted, slightly sticky and very happy boys are snug in their beds as the air conditioner runs so they don't sweat too much in their fuzzy Christmas pjs.

Sitting in my living room by the light of our Christmas tree, snuggled with the dog and under the watchful eye of Darth Vader, I thought about writing a post about our Christmas holiday.

But instead, I started giggling at all the questions I've been asked by a little 4 year old over the past week, at bedtime and in the middle of the night.

Can grasshoppers jump as high as people can?

Can you still breathe in heaven?

How can you walk if one leg is shorter than the other?

What date are you going to heaven?

Why did Grandma watch tv all day long today?

How did they put Han Solo in that carbonite?  How come you don't know how?

How does Santa know if we're awake or not?

Why don't we see Santa if we're outside when he comes?

Why did Fergus (our elf) leave last night? Why didn't he stay until tonight? How did he tell Santa that I was good yesterday?

When I turn 5 am I going to a new school?  What's the name of my new school? Why do I have to go to kindergarten?

Can I keep my Christmas tree up all year?

Does Santa really have kids? How come you don't know?

The questions never stop.  Ever. As half of those were in the middle of the night, I can't even say that they stop when he's asleep. I just wish I was able to give him more answers.

Attainable Goals

There are times lately that everything is really, really good.

These past few weeks have not been one of those times.

First Finn was sick with a fever that lasted 6 days with no other symptoms other than just feeling bad from the fever. On day 5 of the fever I took him to the doctor, and it was just a virus.  We then had a fever-free week before Zachary got a fever that turned out to be strep throat.  In the midst of all that we had 3 rainy weekends in a row.

I've been tired.  The boys have been sick or tired or stir-crazy or all of the above. So there's been lots of crying and fussing and short fuses all around. It's not been fun.

Here's the thing. My kids bring more joy to my life than anything else ever has.  But I'm not sure that I'm doing a good job of letting my kids know how much joy I find in them.  While we've had some really great moments this past month, they seem to be outweighed by times when I've been short-tempered and cross with them.

I realize I'm not perfect.  I can't always respond to irrational meltdowns (or even rational meltdowns for that manner) with calm acceptance and understanding.  But I am the adult in the relationship, and I need to work on acting that way a little more often.  Especially now that I'm starting to see a reflection of my own behavior in Finn when he gets especially frustrated or annoyed by something.

I know it starts with self care.  When I'm rested, I can do better.  When I get regular exercise, I can do better. When I'm hard on myself, I do worse.  I get caught in that negative shit storm of bad feelings about myself and that spills over into how I interact with my kids. I tell my patients who are trying to do better to start with goals they can easily attain.  So I'm going to follow my own advice and make some goals I know I can do:

Hug each child as many times a day as they'll let me.
Sleep at least 7 hours every night.
Walk at least 30 minutes every day.
Spend 20 minutes of bedtime cuddles alone with each child every night.
Listen more.
Listen longer.
Choose love.


I know I'm not alone.  What are your parenting struggles right now?  Feel free to post here or on your own blog if you want to share.  

Getting My Act Together

Somehow it's been another month since my last post.  I'm bursting with things I want to put down in writing, but by the time we have dinner, do bedtime and the boys finally go to sleep, I never seem to have the time to devote to this space.  And when I do have the time, I find myself overwhelmed with all the many "that would make a good blog post" thoughts I have fighting for attention in my brain. So I'm just going to start writing tonight and see what comes out.

Life is good right now.  The bone deep exhaustion of last year is mostly gone, though I wasn't getting enough sleep a few weeks ago and felt so absolutely awful it made me wonder how I survived last year at all.  And made me realize what a better mom I am when I'm getting at least 7 hours of sleep a night.

Having a dog has been challenging and wonderful.  I get up every morning and take him on a 20-30 minute walk.  It's just up and down my street, since the boys are still sleeping (and Finn knows how to Facetime me if he wakes up and wants to talk), but the street is on a hill, so it's a good workout.  My brain feels clearer, and my waistline is getting just the tiniest little bit smaller.  I feel like I'm finally doing a little to take care of myself. And then I sent him to doggy boot camp.  He'll be gone for the next two weeks, learning basic obedience and gaining some much needed confidence, and I'm going to have to find something to keep me exercising while he's gone.

A few months ago I asked myself what things in my life would I change right now if I could - I asked myself as I was reading the Gifts of Imperfection again.  And I realized that I lose mysef - a lot - with my phone and my computer, blanking out the world for more time than I'd care to admit. Brene Brown calls it numbing.  It wouldn't be too off to say it's an addiction.  So I decided to start limiting my phone time at work (I already do at home when the boys are awake, well, I try to, but I'm not always successful). Then I thought again about the things I would change.  One of the biggest ones is the weight of always being behind on my charts at work. It's not uncommon for me to have 80-90 office visit notes to complete at any given time, and it felt like a constant weight around my neck.  In July, I started to work on that.  It took me two months, but in September, I found myself with zero open charts.  I'm back up to 12 this week, but it's been a busy two weeks at work, and usually after a few weeks like this my number would be at 40. It feels good to have something like that finally under control.

I'm now back to working on my house.  I think I've mentioned before that I pretty much threw things where they landed when I moved in 21 months ago.  Now I'm gradually clearing things out.  I don't have a system, though I do have a plan of what needs to be done. I've discovered that it works best if I tackle whichever project is calling my name when I have the time to do it.

One overwhelming task is getting the boys' toys organized and keeping them that way.  I'm not good at it, my nanny isn't good at it, and the boys haven't learned to be good at it. Adding to the problem is the fact that we have tons of toys that both boys have outgrown, as well as quite a few neither actually like.  We're going to try to start with getting rid of all those toys in the next week or two. Then we'll tackle the onerous task of finding an organization system that we can all stick to.

It's all baby steps.  But it's baby steps that are making me feel more free, lighter, and less overwhelmed by the day to day life.  I realize that it will always be a work in progress, but if I can get through my current list of projects, this will become a work in progress that's part of my everyday life, and not a constant series of overwhelming tasks.

A New Addition

Last weekend we added another family member when we brought home 3 year old Vader - a 60 pound black dog who we adopted from a local rescue group.  More than once in the past week I've wondered "what the hell did I do?" even though I've though long and hard about the pros and cons of dog ownership for a very long time. We had some home break ins a few months ago that scared the entire neighborhood and terrified Finn - it was that fear which led me to decide it was time to have a dog in the family, even if I wasn't quite ready for one.  The first morning after he came home, Finn said, "I wasn't scared at all last night.  Do you know why? Because we have a dog now!"

Vader looks fierce, but is actually quite timid - and of course he still needs time to fully adjust to his new home and his new life. While I knew the adjustment period would be hardest, I still didn't quite expect it to be much of a challenge, and so I'm trying to readjust my expectations of the next month. He is very good with the boys, and very patient with their initial nervousness around him, but now that they aren't nervous anymore, he's the nervous one as he has to get used to the sheer volume of noise the two of them can create (it is amazing how much noisier my house is with two boys instead of one - I swear the noise level has quadrupled, not just doubled). I can tell he's going to settle in eventually, though.  Last night we were playing "Kissing Monster" and Vader joined in the fun, with wagging tail and lots of licks for the Kissing Victim.

Then there was the night this weekend when he got away from me after being scared by fireworks our neighbor set off and was gone for 3 hours. That was drama I did not anticipate as the rescue group and some neighbors came out at 9 pm to help me look for him while the kids slept.  It was sometime after 11pm when I was sitting out on the front porch, wondering what I was going to tell the boys, when he came walking up to the house, all on his own.  So clearly he now knows where home is - and so I guess we're stuck with him.  And him with us.

Right now - this time in my life - feels like the start of a new chapter. It's not just the dog, though Ifee like he's the start of it all. I've been making some changes over the past few weeks and I'm feeling really good about them.  I think I'm just about ready to share what I'm doing, but still figuring out how to put it all down in words.  In the meantime, I'm going to get to bed at my actual bedtime tonight, because someone is going to be waking me up for our morning walk at 6am, and it's hard to say no to that sweet face of his.

Date Night

If you're familiar with Dr. Laura Markham, you've probably heard about Special Time - that tiny sliver of time that parent and child spend together for bonding and reconnecting every day.

If you're familiar with the life of a mom who works full time...especially a single mom at that...you're probably aware that Special Time is pretty hard to come by.

My boys each have me to themselves at bedtime.  I let Finn watch 30 minutes of television while I rock Zachary, read him a few stories and sing before bed.  It's our sweet, one on one time that is very special, but since it has the purpose of getting him to sleep, I'm not quite sure it counts as Special Time.  Finn and I then have his bedtime routine - which again I'm not quite sure counts as Special Time, since the sole purpose of the entire time is to get him to go to sleep.

So a few months ago we started doing Date Nights.  Once I get Zachary to sleep, we go downstairs and make small bowls of ice cream, and then we sit on the back porch while we eat and just enjoy each other's company.

It's been well over a month since our last date night, and Finn's behavior has been a little difficult lately - I'm sure due to the craziness of our travels over the past month, as well as the stress of starting a new school. Understandable or not, it's been pretty exhausting and very frustrating. And pretty clear that we were long overdue for Date Night.

So tonight I put Zachary to bed and Finn and I went outside with our fancy ice cream sundaes. We ate.  We listened to bird calls on our favorite app (Merlin Bird ID).  He told me just the tiniest little bit about school ("When I walk in the door, I try not to smile, but I just can't help myself.  I love it so much!") and he asked me about the patients I saw today.  We talked about our next vacations.  We just sat and listened to the cicadas for a few minutes.

It was then that I noticed the sunset, and decided we should walk out to see it.  Which led to picture taking.  And that led to rock jumping (doesn't it always?)

I'm pretty sure I needed Date Night tonight just as much as he did.  It was nice to spend time with no purpose together, no other distractions, just me and him.  Even if the time connecting doesn't help improve his behavior at all, I know it will help improve my reactions to him.  And I'm sure that will help everything.  (This parenting stuff is so much harder than I ever thought it would be.)  

A Preschooler's Prayer

Finn started preschool today, and  I'm acutely aware that this time next year I'll be sharing "first day of kindergarten" pictures... which of course means it's only a few years before I'm sending him off to college.

It's a new school - I moved him from the preschool he was at last year to one that follows the Reggio Emilia approach to education, which I think fits our family better than his previous school.  And, it's only a few minutes from home!  He's in the afternoon session, so I can pick him up a few days a week, as well.

It was a short day with only half his class to allow him time to get comfortable in the classroom, but knowing my boy, it will take a few weeks before he's at home there.  It's such a beautiful space, and his teachers seem lovely - I'm so excited to watch him learn and grow this year.

At bedtime tonight, he said he wanted to say his prayers.  I was expecting something about his first day of school in his prayers. This is what he said:

"Dear God:
"Please turn our house into a ship.
"And then turn me into a Jedi.
"And when you do, give me a real light saber and an astroblaster.
"Then teach me the ways of the Force, so I can fight the bad guys.
"Thank you.  Amen."

Lucky Number 13

Finn had his 13^th MRI on Tuesday.  I've always dreaded each and every MRI, but after last year’s experience, Finn has, too. At random times during the past year he's said to me, “Mommy, I don’t want another MRI,” and while I know it’s not something either of us thought about constantly, it has been weighing on both our minds.  Over the past few weeks we have done several rounds of role playing to prepare for the MRI, with both me being the patient and him being the patient (and I’m astounded by the level of detail he remembers from the last one). But I didn't want him to worry more than he needed to, so I didn't tell him he was going for his next one until the morning of the scan. When I told him that it was his MRI day, his whole face crumpled.  “I don’t want that thing on my arm” he said, referring to the bandage they put on after they took off his bandage.  “And I don’t want the mask.” 

I was prepared for this, and once we talked about the bandage and the mask, I told him I had a surprise for him to watch after his MRI.  Not one, but two Star Wars Lego movies.  This did bring a smile to his face and relieved the imminent threat of tears, but he still wasn’t happy.  When I was buckling him into his car seat, he looked at me and said, "I really hope the MRI shows that I'm healthy."

We had his ultrasound first, which he actually really liked.  The tech was fabulous and turned the screen so Finn could see it, and when it was clear he knew the names of the organs, she started telling him what he was seeing, turned on the color flow so he could see blood flow and even turned up the sound so he could hear the blood rushing through his veins.  He was nervous when he first walked in the room, but he had a huge grin on his face by the time he was done. 

Then we went to MRI.  They didn’t keep us waiting long at all, and within about 15 minutes of walking into the department, the anesthesiologist was giving Finn his “yucky medicine” (Versed).  He swallowed it down like a pro, and then complained of the taste for a few minutes before he started giggling.  He was the cutest little drunk ever.  Once he was very relaxed and happy, the anesthesiologist scooped him up out of my arms, let me give him a few silly kisses and he was on his way without even the slightest protest. Most of the staff in radiology and in recovery remembered Finn, and while he didn't remember them, it was very reassuring to me to see the familiar and friendly faces of people who sincerely care about how Finn is doing.

He was crying when I came up to get him recovery, and cried even harder once I was up there with him, but then started to clear up a little and asked me if his MRI was done.  Hearing that it was, and being allowed to drink some apple juice brightened his spirits considerably.  By the time we made it to the oncologist’s office, he was wobbly but smiling. 

We had to wait until yesterday morning to hear the results, but they were worth waiting for.  Not only was his MRI good, it was great!  He’s had a residual area of abnormality ever since his surgery that we thought would always be there as scar tissue.  Only this time, it is completely gone.  The entire area looks absolutely NORMAL.  That alone is great news.  But to make it even better – the guidelines have recently changed for children diagnosed with neuroblastoma in infancy.  It used to be that the recommendation was continued imaging through age 7.  But now the recommendation is only for 36 months after treatment.  Which means NO MORE MRIs!!!!! 

Over the past year I'd managed to forget the worst of the fear and worry that comes with an upcoming MRI.  I've even gone days on end without once thinking about Finn's diagnosis.  Or I thought I had.  The immense sense of soul-deep relief it gives me to know his risk of recurrence is now so tiny that he doesn't need another MRI is just staggering. I cried. More than once.

I’ve always felt a little like an imposter when I tell people that I have a child who was diagnosed with cancer, since he never had chemo or radiation, and the prognosis was such a good one to begin with. But it was still horrible and awful. It was much better than what some have gone through, but it still really sucked.  

I will be forever thankful that he did not have to get chemotherapy. 

There is not a day that goes by that I don't send out thanks to universe for the life of this this bright, inquisitive and funny boy who enriches my life so profoundly.

And now I'm incredibly thankful he no longer has to worry about his next MRI.  And neither do I.