Blog Challenge - Day 26.

Day 26. What would you like your Grandchildren to remember about you one day?

These questions are getting intense! Apologies if they're too serious, but I wouldn't be doing them justice if I wasn't sincere. If you've read back the past month or two, you know that we've had a heck of a winter, and I'm not talking about weather. Lots of illness, a few real scares, and a Hubbie working around the clock leaving me to go solo much of the time. I've reoriented quite a few fundamentals of our life, and been pretty pleased with how we've fared. But I had a Eureka! moment about a month ago.

You see, I'm a consensus builder by nature, and I'm always trying to make as many people happy as possible. But consensus building doesn't work when you're hanging by a thread, and there were too many decisions that just couldn't wait until the next time I got to see or even talk to my husband. Much less actually have a long conversation with him.

So I started just acting without consulting, and it dawned on me one night that what this family needed was a Matriarch. A good, old fashioned, this.is.how.it's.done Matriarch. No nonsense, no consensus needed. (That doesn't mean he doesn't have a say, but it means he trusts me to know when he really wants to have input. Funny - turns out he did all along.) Matriarch meaning there are things we do, and things we don't, and that's the end. Not by making it about me personally or what I want, but by sheer force of will.

So of course I want my Grandchildren to think of me as warm, and kind, and involved. As always, always available to them; as a shelter in a storm. But I think I'm going to need that mantle of the lady that held it all together. Although if I'm truly successful, they shouldn't ever know that I had it.

Prescience

I had a dream last night that, as I was sitting at my office desk, I saw a missile come down and hit the middle of the street immediately in front of my office. It seemed to hit some anti-missile installation, and somehow in my dream I knew it was from Libya.

I got my phone, blackberry, and purse and headed for the stairs, to run down the 10 flights and try to figure out how to get home. I think I must have allowed my psyche to revise my response a few times, since I remember that I was wearing bad shoes for running down stairs, but I also remember teetering in heels (and getting dizzy on the stairs), as well as brilliantly changing into running shoes before heading for the stairs. I also remember a version when I grabbed a bunch of cash in my desk (I'm currently collecting for a big office party!) and brought it with me in case it could prove helpful getting home.

I was calling Hubbie as I went down the stairs, telling him I love him and the kids and I wasn't sure how I'd make it out of downtown, but that I'd head home. And to tell the kids I love them. I was processing through how long it would take to get my car out of the garage, and whether that would allow traffic to build up so much (as everyone else fled the city) that having a car would be worthless anyway. Maybe I should walk?

I think I am feeling under attack lately. Maybe?

So imagine my response when there was an actual 'suspicious vehicle' today at work - on our very corner - and the streets were blocked off as they brought in hazmat. Then no one could enter the building. Then exit. Then those of us with window offices had to stay away from the windows and shut our doors.

Not okay, given the dream of the very night before. Not that I have any track record of ESP, but it was all a bit too much for me. It's going to be a while before the tightness in my chest goes away, I think.

I wanna go home and hug my kids. And move out of DC. To flyover country, where international foes real and imaginary don't care what happens. Like I needed more reasons to not wanna be at work, really!

My least favorite thing in the world...

...is looking for childcare.

I haven't mentioned anything about this before, because it's really not a very fun topic. But a huge part of why I've been bad about posting lately is that my time has been suddenly and unexpectedly consumed with a new childcare search. Our beloved nanny, who I had fantasies of keeping for years on end, is leaving us. Really, really early. I won't go into why, but all that matters is that she feels pulled elsewhere. Not only do I want to respect that, I also don't want someone caring for my children who doesn't want to be there.

Anyway, there it is, about two weeks later. Maybe I was still in denial until recently? But I started blogging to get these things out in a coherent way and thus maybe allow me to better sort through my thoughts. While I'm sad she's going and frustrated that I have to spend so much time - so soon - on another blasted nanny hunt, I'm most worried about the kids. She's the only person besides family that has ever cared for Lion. And Monkey is very attached to her and routinely lists her as part of our family. So I'm really stressed about finding the right way and time to tell Monkey about this.

Not to mention finding the right person. I'm not only looking for all the traits that I think make a good caregiver, I'm not obsessively trying to gauge how sincere someone is about their willingness to make a longer commitment and how well they really understand what they're getting into as a full-time, live-in nanny. It doesn't help that the first good interview we had turned out to be telling me everything I wanted to hear - which I learned after being alerted she had a drug problem and had stolen from her last family. So now I'm totally second guessing my own instincts.

This whole thing bumps up against all of my insecurities about being a working Mom.

This is three hires in a year and a half - a part-time nanny for a few months before Lion was born, a hire who never ended up coming because of a last minute personal crisis, and our current nanny. I'm exhausted. And losing faith in whether we'll ever be able to find someone that will give the kids the love and stability they deserve.

Blog Challenge - Day 18 on 22.

Day 18. If you could, what would you tell yourself before you had your baby?

It'll be OK. It's going to be harder than you think - a lot - but it will be OK. You're an idiot for thinking that babysitting prepared you for this, by the way. Anyone who thinks they are prepared for their first child is wrong. And seriously naive.

There is no lightning flash of love that strikes you the moment that baby is out in this world. You will be tired and hormonal and just want everyone to leave you alone. You probably won't feel very bonded right away, and that does not make you a bad person or parent. Your body will just have done an amazing thing and it deserves credit and rest. You won't be able to breastfeed, and it isn't your fault. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. It doesn't mean you weren't meant to do this.

On other ways, too, things won't go as you envisioned when you were younger. You won't make all the same choices you planned; some because you're wiser, and some because life doesn't always work out that way. That's OK, because, well, it has to be. What's the alternative, really?

You will never be the same, but you will be better. You will be tested in ways you never imagined, and you won't always succeed, and it will be fine. Because your kids need to know that it is OK to fail, as long as you get back on your feet and try again. It's also OK to take care of yourself. Call your friends. One of them will tell you that a happy Mommy makes a happy baby, and those are some really important words. Reach out for help when you need it. You cannot; will not do this alone, and it is vain and proud to try.

How much do you rely on your pediatrician?

I'm incredibly frustrated right now.  Frustrated may not be strong enough of a word, actually. 

Baby Lion started seeming sick on Sunday as we celebrated his birthday.  (Pics to follow soon.)  He had a rough day, but the fever seemed to break that evening.  We called the pediatrician the next morning anyway, who said it sounded like he was on the upswing, and the remaining low fever was probably teething.  Last night, however, was from hell.  He was in so much pain he could barely sleep (so of course neither did we), even with ibuprofen, acetaminophen, and those little gum-numbing Orajel swabs.  It was terrible to see him so obviously hurting.

So we called again this morning to see how else we could help him - we know his lower molars are coming in, but this was too much.  They thought he should be seen and, TA DA!, raging double ear infection. 

I could just scream.  He could have been spared that horrible night.  He could have been on antibiotics a whole day sooner. 

I consider myself to be pretty assertive.  But there are times I could just kick myself for not being a more forceful advocate for my kids.  Why did I let them blow me off yesterday?  There's a natural tendency in me to trust people, but also to have faith in the medical profession, research, and science.  I'm a huge vaccine proponent.  (Don't get me started.)  After all, if they don't know what they're talking about, how many other things could I be screwed on? 

But seriously, this is not the first problem we've had on Lion's behalf.  Maybe it's because he's gotten sick more often, what with being exposed to Monkey's whole preschool germ factory.  But, no - other diagnostic misses have had nothing to do with germs.  I repeatedly raised the prospect of reflux with his regular doc, and was talked out of it.  Then she was out of town one visit, we saw someone else, and.. guess what?  Reflux.  Issues totally, immediately resolved with Prevacid.  I know they deal a lot with us hyper-worrying types, but if she had listened to me the first time we could have avoided months of his discomfort and spitting up (not to mention the added laundry!).  There were similar concerns - both where I was ultimately right that something was wrong - over possible hearing loss (that was the worst week of my life to date) and two other concerns.  All where if I had pushed harder to have my concerns believed, I could have saved him pain or other consequences.  Unacceptable.

So I refuse to see that doc anymore, and I'm shopping for a good fit with someone else in the same practice, but I'm beginning to wonder if it's a bigger issue.  Is it the practice itself?  Or would we have this risk anywhere?  Is it endemic to the medical profession?  A string of bad luck and coincidence?

In any case, you can be sure I won't be blown off again.  I can't believe I let it happen yesterday. 

By a thread

I'm having one of those weeks (okay, it's been more than a week) when I feel like I'm barely hanging on. Hubbie is totally MIA for a work project, has been for weeks, and will be for a few weeks more. This single parenting thing STINKS, people. Seriously hard. I have tried to tell every single parent I know just how awesome I think they are.

Regardless, when I got sick a little over a week ago, I went completely militant about not spreading germs. Pretty much slept for two days straight, even though I don't have any sick leave. Then last Thursday Lion went super cranktastic and started running a fever. Bronchitis AND an ear infection. How long had THAT been coming on that I didn't even notice? I feel like a bad, bad Mommy that he obviously was sick several days (at least) before we caught it, but the pediatrician kindly reassured me I must have a child with a high pain threshold. (I always thought that would be a good thing, but no.)

Friday night, from Monkey's room, comes the cough. The hacking, seal-barking croup cough. So with me barely back on my feet and committed to speaking about four hours away on Saturday, both kids are down. We went anyway, since we all needed a change of pace, and we thought four hours in a warmer direction and some fresh air might be good for everyone. Instead, my kids made the hotel their own personal infirmary and laid in bed for two days straight in another state. Monkey was delighted. Through the fever, she kept raving about how "they bring food to my BED." Child loves room service. go figure.

Anyway, long story short, Monkey is finally back at school today after over a week, Lion is better but still on the clingy, finicky side, and husband is sick, but working through it. Of course. And I'm exhausted. Two coughing kids means I don't sleep for worrying, and that isn't the greatest way to get better yourself. Then I got food poisoning. And now I'm a zombie. Don't really want to eat, but am getting weak for lack of it. And really, desperately need a full night sleep. Maybe tonight? Wish me luck.