Category: It’s all about me

Blog Post Interrupted

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Working from home has its challenges, the biggest of which is endless opportunities to waste time. Yesterday’s to do list included two blog posts, paying some bills, a phone call to my Dad and laundry. Sometimes I am my own worst enemy with regards to being productive, but sometimes, productivity isn’t all it is cracked up to be.

Productivity gurus would say write first. I decided to call my Dad instead. I hadn’t spoken to him for a while and while he has lived out West for more than 30 years, he still runs on East coast time. The best time to reach him is in the early, early morning his time.

Dan and a 2 year old me sitting in a lawn chair on Tempo Road
Dad & I Then

My biological father and I have a complicated history. One that involves divorce, distance, alcoholism, sobriety, perfectionism, stubbornness, and uncertainty. My parents split when I was three and I was very fortunate that Dennis stepped into my life when I was six. Dennis wasn’t my dad, but he was. I wasn’t his daughter, but I was. Dennis always encouraged my relationship with my Dad, and for a variety of reasons, some of them circumstance, some of them my fault, some of them my Dad’s, we’ve never been especially close.

A little more than a decade ago, my world was turned upside down and I realized that what I thought I knew for sure, might not have been true after all. I always thought my perspective on things was independent, but the glasses I’d been wearing were shattered and I realized that perhaps, my opinions had been more heavily influenced than I originally thought. Since then, my Dad and I have stayed more in touch and worked to get to know one another. It is a journey we are taking together and I dare say we are enjoying.

I called yesterday to touch base and we ended up talking for quite a while. I knew some things that were helpful to some issues he was dealing with. We said our goodbyes and I moved on to writing. A while later, he called back. He was looking for something and needed my Internet skills.

The conversation focused on one of his interests, classic films.

While he’s a movie buff, I’ve always been more of a music person. During our conversation I revealed the fact that I’ve never seen Breakfast at Tiffanys. To his way of thinking, this is a huge failure in my cultural education. My college roommate was a film person, and given how many other classic films I have seen, it does seem like a bit of a gaping hole.

My father is a fabulous story teller and in his younger days was active in the New York bar scene. Yesterday, he regaled me with more of his exploits as it related to his movie knowledge. It was really fun to help him find what he was looking for and to learn more about what makes him tick. We said our goodbyes and again I turned back to work.

I turned up the volume on iTunes to find that the current song was Cracklin’ Rosie by Neil Diamond. On the weekends we did spend together, my Dad and I spend countless hours in the car and Neil Diamond was one of our perennial favorites. Cracklin’ Rosie was a song that ALWAYS made me think of him. I had to call him back to share the serendipity with him. We ended up talking for another 20 minutes sharing memories of some of our adventures.

We can’t change history. In one way or another, we’ve both said we’re sorry. There is still distance and uncertainty between us and yet we are actively taking steps to close that gap. There is no destination on this journey. I have no “goals” for my relatiohship with my Dad other than continuing to share stories and make memories.

I never did get the blog post written, but in the words of Brad Paisley, it was Time Well Wasted.

Dad and I June 2009
Dad and I June, 2009

Photo Credit, David Ryan

Writing about why I haven’t been writing

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Well the last week here in Skeeterville has been fun. I started a week ago Monday when I awoke at 4am to Mim vomiting IN HIS SLEEP. Clearly it had happened a few times and sleeps-like-a-rock mommy didn’t hear him. When I woke him to clean him up, first words out of his mouth? “Mom, Fish and I unlocked Carburetor Canyon On Mater Nationals.”

Um yeah buddy that’s great, but can mommy get the chunks of grilled cheese out of your hair please?

24 hours later, he was up and running, but I was down for the count with a Sinus headache and a clogged nose. When I’m sick, I can’t go above and beyond. I can really only handle the basics and even then, not that well. I thought this might be allergies, so I didn’t start Zicam soon enough. Thus, my mucus under pressure and the associated cold medicine haze lasted far longer than it should have.

Come Saturday, I was still pretty miserable, but it was a beautiful day, so I lazed on the sun porch while everyone else enjoyed the burst of spring. Fish and her dad went for a bike ride. When she came back, she complained of nausea. Despite her nick name, Fish does not drink much therefore, she is highly susceptible to dehydration. I gave her a Gatorade and told her to rest. Thankfully, she is old enough (and was awake enough) to make it to the bathroom when the Gatorade decided to make a return appearance. Oh thank you stomach bug for coming back to visit us once again and AGAIN via A-Man on Monday Morning during his bus ride to work!

Here is it Tuesday, and everyone is back on their feet. My head is only mildly clogged and I am left with the debris left over from a week of ignoring life.

There is much to write about, but little time and the cold medicine is impacting my ability to thread thoughts together.

There’s always tomorrow!

The Dork at THIS keyboard

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With apologies to Oh The Joys, this post is in honor of Tanis, and in a few years, for my kids.

Me in 6th Grade
Me Circa 6th Grade

There was a time when I wanted to be “cool”. I wanted to look like the other kids and wear what the cool kids wore (In sixth grade I had to have moccasins, in 7th grade, a pair of dark blue Nikes with the light blue swish). In high school I settled into the band crowd and that mostly worked for me. I still wasn’t a cool kid, but I had “people”. In college, I realized that my different looks were an advantage. People remembered me (in a good way) and I started to use that to my advantage. It my mid-20’s, I hit my stride and never looked back. Like it or lump it baby, I yam-what-i-yam, ya know?

In honor of Tanis’s post about marching to her own drummer, I share with you what makes me, me.

I was a Mac user long before Apple was cool and during the years when Steve Jobs wasn’t CEO and everyone said they were done for. I tell people my blood runs in six colors and most people don’t get it.

My first car was a brand new mini-van, by choice. I miss the functionality and would get another one in a heartbeat if it was practical where we live.

I wore sneakers under my wedding dress and proudly showed them off. I live in Danskos in the winter and Crocs sandals in the summer. I think high heels are painful and high fashion is stupid. There are days when I dress to impress, but I refuse to be uncomfortable.

I loved Star Trek the Next Generation. I thought the Wesley Crusher was cool.

I love to dance, but am hopelessly uncoordinated. There has been at least one trip to the ER tied to my dancing.

Solid, three part harmonies bring tears to my eyes. Blue grass fiddles cut right to my soul.

I didn’t start listening to FM radio until high school. As a result, I know the words to way to many cheesy 70’s songs. This includes (but is NOT limited too), Daddy Please Don’t, Convoy, The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia Any Barry Manilow song from the 70’s, Dead Skunk and several Tony Orlando and Dawn Songs. Those are just the songs in my iTunes library. I spent the first two years of college listening to the classic rock station just trying to catch up. I never made it to the “cutting edge” stuff.

I like Nickleback too. I like, 38 Special Styx, Poison, Quiet Riot, Ratt, Twisted Sister and Night Ranger. Today, my tastes, are more country. Garth Brooks, Trisha Yearwood, Miranda Lambert, but don’t leave out Anna Nalick, Norah Jones, and Jason Mraz. In short, my tastes are all over the map.

I like Dolly for her voice (no, really!) and yes, she has awesome business sense.

I bought The Climb by Miley Cyrus because I liked it.

I danced to Celine Dion with my Dad Dennis at my wedding (Because You Loved Me). I can belt out a mean “Its All Coming Back to Me Now”. No apologies Tanis.

I recently discovered romance novels. I can respect literature, but can rarely read it. I like good stories, and symbolism can frustrate me.

I go to the movies to be entertained. Make me laugh, and please don’t make me think too hard. I do that in other areas of my life.

My actor crush growing up? Andrew Stevens How’s THAT for out of the main stream. Anyone else remember Code Red?

I get very wrapped up in TV shows like ER and 24, to the point where I don’t watch them because they stress me out.

I hate most sit coms and reality TV because I hate to see people make fools of themselves.

I love Big Bang Theory because while not nearly as smart, I identify with the geeks.

I like old George Carlin and think that Dennis Blair is one of the funniest men walking the planet.

I drink tea, not coffee and while I have been exposed to a variety of fine teas, many of which I have enjoyed, I can be equally happy with a cup of Tetley.

I love acapella music.

My 3x Bioptic Telescope from Designs for Vision

My vision sucks, but I will not miss out on all that is to be experienced in this world. I hold things close to my face to read them and my bioptic allows me to see things clearly that are at a distance. Yes, it looks odd and if I catch you staring at me for a long time, I will turn my scope on you. If you are curious how it works, just ask me nicely. I’m happy to explain and if you’re nice, I might even let you try it.

These days, I embrace my inner dork on a regular basis. If Oh The Joys hadn’t used it first, I would have used “The Dork at the Keyboard” in my blogging description.

My daughter is approaching the precipice of her teenage years with impatience, mixed with fear and anticipation. Thanks to this book we regularly have discussions about menstrual cycles and their, uh, accouterments. I dread the teenage years because like Tanis, mine SUCKED and I want better for my kids. Yet, I know that it is just something that every kid had to get through. Right now, my daughter seems to follow her inner spirit and I can only hope she hangs on to that guide as time passes.

In the mean time, I save this link to show her it could be worse, she could be her for a mother 🙂 And, I’ll gather more photos of me to prove to my daughter, no one survives unscathed, but we all muddle through one way or the other.

My display o'dorkiness

Steak Miraculous

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The master at work

I was a picky eater as a kid.  In those days, if it wasn’t hot dogs, plain spaghetti with butter, bread or a sugared cereal, I wasn’t interested. Dennis, usually made it home from work before my mom so dinner duty usually fell to him. In an effort to defuse dinner time tensions between my mom and I, he would endeavor to make a big deal about dinner preparation.  When he was trying to get me to try something new, he’d call it Gourmet by Dennis.  The man couldn’t wield a screwdriver to save his life, but he was master of all things grilled. Usually.

On this occasion, Dennis’ cousin Paul would be joining us for dinner. The meat selection for the evening was a round steak. Dennis prepared the marinade, and allowed the steak to bathe in some wine, garlic and spices.  He wrapped the beef in heavy duty aluminum foil  and slathered it with onions, mushrooms and the marinade and put the “Steak Miraculous” on the Webber charcoal grill to cook.
Throughout the preparation, he hyped this meal as THE most amazing ever.  He assured me my taste buds were in for a treat.  My picky eater, tween self was more than skeptical, but I had learned by then to keep my food opinions to myself, lest another tussel break out about my preference to live on bread and Coco Puffs.
The table was set, the salad made and the potatoes baked (in the coals of course). The hype continued to build. Steak Miraculous would astound and amaze.  It would change the way I thought about dinner in general and steak specifically. It would be THE gold standard of dinners.
There was much pomp and ceremony surrounding the foil packet’s delicate removal from the grill.  Glory Glory Hallelujah may even have been hummed.  My mom, Paul, and I were told to be seated while the delicacy was plated and prepared for it’s debut.
It was presented, and we diners offered up the appropriate amount of oohs and ahhs for such a momentous occasion. The steak was cut, er hacked, and served.  I delicately picked away the offensive mushrooms and onions (I know, I know, remember I was a picky eater.  I’ve since become a devoted worshiper of the sacred triad that is mushrooms, onions and garlic). Carefully, I cut a small bite.  It took some effort, but I managed to break away a minute morsel and get it into my mouth. I chewed and I chewed, and I chewed.
It was what I imagined it would be like to eat corrugated cardboard. Corrugated cardboard that was marrinated in red wine and garlic. I kept chewing.  Like I said, I was a picky eater and had already engaged in my share of dinnertime tiffs over what I would and would not eat.  There was no way I was going to be the first to offer my less than stellar opinion of Steak Miraculous.  Slowly, I lifted my head to gauge the opinions of my fellow diners.  They too were still chewing.  I looked from my mom, to Paul to Dennis unable to read their expressions.  My mother broke first with a snort of laughter as she continued to chew, and chew.  Paul was next and finally Dennis.  I eventually joined the gales of laughter.   We laughed so hard we cried.
Steak Miraculous was awful.
It wasn’t just awful, Steak Miraculous was quite possibly THE most miraculous disaster in the history of Gourmet by Dennis.  It was 100% completely inedible.  It was tough and tasteless and flat out gross.  It was a meal that would live in infamy because I didn’t have to eat it.
I’ve since learned that round steak is best suited for slow cooking and thin slicing.  To this day when I see it on sale in a grocery circular, I chuckle. I also came to learn that the more Dennis hyped a dish, the less confident he was in its success.  Still, he kept trying and eventually I learned that there was more to life than bread and Coco Puffs.
Thanksgiving Perfection
Monday would have been Dennis’ sixty first birthday.  By the time he died, we’d shared many more successful Gourmet by Dennis dishes including, Potatos Anna, Bowman’s Tower Chicken and even a grilled Thanksgiving turkey. He however, was never able to convince me that turnips were a food, but that didn’t stop him from trying.
This post was inspiried by Busy Dad. Go watch his tribute to beef and learn how you could win $100 Omaha Steak gift card courtesy of the American Cattleman’s Association and The Motherhood.
I am not being compensated for my words, I’m married to a serious carnivore and I really want to win the gift card 🙂
It is worth noting that I grew up to appreciate all the glory that is a good cut of beef.  I refuse to buy beef in the super market.  Instead, we get ours from a local butcher.  The cost is a bit more per pound, but I have him package our order in appropriate portion sizes, so there is very little waste and the taste is worth it!

Found My Bliss At Blissdom ’10

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Images from the Blissdom'10 ConferenceI’m home, I’m jazzed and I’m really glad I went to Blissdom‘10 in Nashville.

I was fortunate to have an awesome travel experience. Unfortunately, some got stuck in Nashville unable to leave due to the massive storm that socked the mid-Atlantic region. Although I guess there are worse things than being stuck at the lovely Gaylord Opryland Resort, I know I was glad to get home.

Thanks to my roommate Jennifer Wilson. It was pure serendipity (and great luck on my part) that we ended up rooming together, but I couldn’t have asked for a more fun and considerate roommate. Jennifer blogs about digital scrapbooking here at Simple Scrapper and also about life and food at Midwest Neruotica. Pop over and see her and tell her I sent you.

At the beginning of the conference, Alli Worthington one of the conference organizers told the assembly of 500+ women “We decided to go big or go home” and I’m really glad they didn’t go home. Blissdom ’10 was a great event and their hard work showed at every turn. Hats off to Alli Worthington, Barbara Jones and Paula Bruno. Take a bow ladies, ya done good.

My roommate Jennifer came to the conference armed with a specific list of goals and questions. In hindsight, I did too, but I didn’t wasn’t conscious of them them in advance and they were more internal than external.

Of late, I have been feeling overwhelmed. I know I want to write, I know I want to blog, but making time to write, making it a priority has been a real challenge. As much as I was really looking forward to the conference, I felt guilty about going since I wasn’t blogging as much as I would have liked. I was also feeling put upon and weighed down by family responsibilities.

This weekend away surrounded by all things blogging, brought me to some important realizations. No one is going to make this happen but me and I really DO want to make this happen. No one is stealing my time to write but me. No one is asking me to put myself at the bottom of the list, but me. It was a disturbing, but freeing realization. Freeing because if there is one thing I am certain about in life, it is that I cannot change others, but I can change me. And, since I’m the one causing the problems, I can fix them too.

While I Blissdom, I generated a number of important questions about my blogs, and I also identified some next steps that must be taken. Lastly, I practiced some self care. I made sure I ate relatively well, I socialized, but I also snagged some alone time. Most importantly, to me, I exercised all three days. The first day, I walked in the gray 40 degree temperatures. I was nice to be outside with only a fleece. The second and third day, I swam in Opryland’s amazing indoor pool. It was an excellent kick start to the day.

Blissdom has given me tons of content for this blog. A few sessions provided some interesting writing prompts, which generated some writing that with just a little tweeting will be posted here. I met lots of awesome people some of whom I want to introduce you to. While I have a renewed focus my writing, there are still only so many hours in a day, and a large number of my hours are committed to nurturing my marriage, raising two beautiful kids maintaining our home, so I’m going to string you along 🙂 and share bits and pieces of information as I can.

Lest you think I am all talk and no action, I have made some changes. I committed to leaving the house twice a week to write. To that end, I woke up early Monday morning, early enough to dress, shower and even put on a little make-up before I woke the kids. I made conscious choices about the clothes I put on, maintaining comfort, but also insisting on style. I did the same things at Blssdom and felt like they were good habits to continue. After I put the kids on the bus I made a beeline to Starbucks. My husband did an awesome job holding down the fort while I was gone, but, there were piles on the island and laundry awaited. I was (still am) behind on my Facebook news feed and Twitter, not to mention my RSS feed reader, but I was there, at the keyboard writing and I can’t tell you how good that felt.

So, thank you to the producers of Blissdom, thank you to my tribe (more on that later) and thank you to my husband for his support. I am home, I am jazzed and I’m on it!

Blissdom highlights
Kevin Carroll’s inspiring presentation including:

  • “Your work can be your play if you always have joy.”
  • “How’s your want to? Can’t do anything with a broken want to.”
  • “Sometimes you need to resign from adulthood.”
  • I also learned the rules to the game toilet tag.

Learning the phrase “Brain Porn” from Megan Jordan.

The awesome media training session from Dan Barber at Fleishman-Hillard. I’ve been a part of media out reach campaigns before, so not all of his information was knew to me, but it was awesome to have all the important information included in one place and Dan related to the audience exceptionally well.

Bearing witness to a reader recognizing a blogger she reads regularly (BookieBoo) and smile of pride that crossed the blogger’s face when BookieBoo lavishly complimented her dress.

My awesome tote bag from Land’s End

My husband tweeting he wished I’d win a Roomba from iRobot.

The yummy Hebrew National Hot dogs in puff pastry (thank you ConAgra foods for your sponsorship).

I met LOTS of people.  I have a 1 inch stack of business cards to sort through, but it was cool meeting two bloggers I regularly read, Amy from Chicken and Cheese and Casey from Moosh In Indy IRL.

The pool at the Opryland hotel.

I had a “ME TOO” moment during the Striking Balance session when Megan Jordan admitted she was completely overwhelmed by the check list from the Building Community session.  I seriously gained some perspective when she explained what she was going to do to battle the overwhelm.

Watching Casey sit straddling a wall four feet high to get great shots of Harry Connick Junior.

All the cute babies that thankfully were not mine.

The flower arrangements for the arrangements Redenbacker pop corn break. The arrangements coordinated with the types of popcorn being served. (like Limes with Salt, or cheddar cheese).

The creative center pieces at lunch on Friday and discovering that I do like grilled eggplant. I might just have to go buy George Duran’s book. He swears I’ll like Brussels sprouts if I do. I’m skeptical, but after the eggplant, I might give it a try.

Southwest airlines calling ME to rebook my cancelled flights.

Watching Casey and Tanis sing redneck woman

Admiring all the little chubby cheeks and nummy toes but not having to deal with the smelly diapers or the cranky babies 😦

Watching Casey dedicate “I Want You To Want Me” to Heather Spohr (a.k.a Mamaspohr ) at Karaoke.  I don’t know the back story, but both of these ladies have been through there own personal versions of hell this past year and their friendship is inspiring.

I have a list of action items that I will be tackling slowly.  The truth is on a good day I have about 2.5 uninterrupted hours a day to work and very few days fall into the category of “good days” in that respect, but, I’m going to keep plugging away because I have recommitted to my passion thanks to the Ladies of Blissdom.

Feelin’ the LUV for Southwest Airlines

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Southwest Airlines Green Jet

I was not compensated in any way shape or form for this post.  I am just a satisfied customer. All images © copyright and courtesy of Southwest Airlines.

The snowpocalypse that socked the mid-Atlantic region this weekend impacted at least 3 major airports and snarled air traffic throughout the country. I’m sure there will be many stories of trial and tribulation that come out of this storm.

Mine is not that story. Mine is a story of AWESOME customer service.

I flew to Nashville this weekend for the Blissdom conference. Whenever possible, I fly Southwest Airlines. Due to childcare constraints, there wasn’t a lot of padding on the outbound leg of the trip. This is risky in February, the weather can screw up your plans in the time it takes to say total snow accumulation. Mother nature didn’t disappoint. My outbound flight was delayed, making my connection in Baltmore much tighter than I wanted it to be.

Southwest Airlines Agent Assisting customer.I was able to arrive a the airport early for my departure, but not early enough for one of the earlier itineraries to Nashville. When I checked my bags, I mentioned the tight time frame in BWI. If my flight was ANY later, there was no way I would get out of Baltimore to Nashville Wednesday night. My conference started at 9am sharp on Thursday. The agent’s response? “Let me see what I can do about that.” There was an earlier flight to Baltimore with plenty of room, so she moved me. I had time to spare in Baltimore and that was fine with me.

Come Friday afternoon, the trip home was making me nervous. I was watching the weather with a sinking feeling. My husband had already worked from home Thursday and Friday, and he had an important meeting on Monday. I HAD to be home Sunday night.

I was in conference sessions all day Saturday. I checked in for my flights via the web and the system still showed an on time departure even I knew that wasn’t true. I had plans to call Southwest during one of my breaks. I looked at my phone and saw a missed call from a 214 number. I only know a few people in the Dallas area and I couldn’t imagine why any of them would be calling my cell phone. When I checked the message, is was Southwest calling to tell me the initial leg of my trip had ben canceled. No shock there. A short time later, the phone vibrated and again it was a 214 number. I grabbed it, a pleasant automated voice told me my connecting flight had also been canceled. Then Lady Luv asked me if I wanted to speak to someone to rebook my flights. I briefly considered staying in my session and calling later, but then I thought if they were offering to connect me with someone now, I should grab that brass ring.

I figured, I would be on hold, so I slowly moved to the back of the room. I was wrong. I was immediately connected to Rae and she even had my itinerary right in front of her. Cue scurrying out of the ballroom and speaking in hushed tones. I suggested that if they wanted to route me through Chicago, Midway, I would be ok with that. Nashville, to Manchester, via Midway is a not standard route for Southwest, so Rae had to get approval from customer service. She got approval, but there would be a cost difference and the amount would vary depending on whether I wanted to take the morning flights or the afternoon flights. Wait, whaa? I’m cheap er I mean frugal, I didn’t want to have to pay to change the ticket. So, I asked Rae what was available on my original itinerary. How about departing Nashville Monday morning at 7:35 and arriving in Manchester at 1:35pm? Uh no, THAT wasn’t going to work either. Ok, Rae, get me a price to travel via Chicago. While she checked, I ducked back into my session. I didn’t even have time to hear the one question before Rae was back telling me that customer service had approved a courtesey waiver and there would be no charge! Wahooo!

I LOVE SOUTHWEST AIRLINES!!!

The flight home was utterly uneventful. I was sorry to leave the ladies of Bissdom’10 behind, but I was grateful to get home.

Thanks Southwest.

Finding My Bliss

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Blissdom Conference ~ Nashville ~ February 4-6 2010

I knew I wanted to blog the first time I visited a blog.  Eventually, I knew I had gone as far as a solo event planner as I wanted to and it was time to move towards a career in freelance writing.  I thought I’d start in September of 2009, but it is amazing how much you can’t get done with an active five year old in the house.
So instead, this year is a building year.  Two of the three blogs that I want to write regularly, are up and running in their most basic form.  The third will have to wait awhile until I feel this blog and This New Hampshire Life are getting what they need from me with regards to regular posting and finding their audiences.
This weekend, I am heading to Nashville for The Blissdom Conference.  I attended last year and I’m really looking forward to attending again. The content was just amazing and I had such a good time meeting people. There were over 200 women and the facility was overwhelmed by all the attendees, this year, the organizers stepped things up a notch and we are going to Opryland Y’all!
As a recovering event planner, I completely understand what it takes to pull together an event of this caliber for 500 women.  Hats off to Allison Worthington and Barbara Jones for all their hard work.
I also want to extend my thanks to ConAgra foods and all the other sponsors.  As a family we are not a huge consumer of pre-packaged foods, but a quick peek at the ConAgra web site shows a few brands that inhabit my pantry including Hunts and Pam and Hebrew National (except I keep the hot dogs in the ‘fridge).
I made the switch to Hebrew National a few years back during the Mad Cow scare.  I like that beef is the first item in the ingredients list and water is the second.  With the remaining ingredients taking up less than 2% of the hot dog.  I’m not going to tell you that hot dogs are a healthy food, but in my opinion, Hebrew National is a healthier choice especially when dealing with two picky eaters.
Hebrew National is one of the few premium brands I purchase (we call them tube steaks), but I think in this case it is worth it. Some weeks, my five year old’s only sources of protein are American Cheese and Hebrew National hot dogs. Thanks to ConAgra for the coupon for the free package of hot dogs!
I’m looking forward to the trip as a learning experience, but also as a get away from day to day life. Along with the educational sessions, there are several official parties and many being run along side the conference.  I’m leaving my options open but as it stands now, I am looking forward to some quiet time in between the learning.   I’m looking forward to meeting new people, but and uninterrupted hour with my laptop sounds mighty appealing these days too. I’m also hoping to squeeze in some time to exercise.  That’s a lot to fit into 3 conference days!
Hopefully you’ll see the results of my attendance in this here space in the near future. In the mean time, I need to pack!

Don’t Gimmie No Lines and Keep Your Germs to Yourself

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The stories are everywhere; you can’t open a paper (for those of us that still read them) or turn on the radio without hearing the words flu or H1N1 mentioned. The topic is all over Facebook and Twitter as people lament their illness, or that of their kids and spouses.

The flu is serious business, it can be deadly for some populations, but arguably, for most people, it is just uncomfortable and inconvenient. Yet as Americans, we take any kind of illness personally, it is like some sign of weakness to admit that you weren’t able to fight off a stupid little virus. So, rather than doing the smart thing and staying home and keeping the germs to ourselves, we put on our superhero capes (or martyr robes depending on your perspective) and soldier on, runny noses, scratchy throats, hacky coughs and all.

Sick days to the working person are like those plastic decorations on a cake. They look good in an employment offer, but you aren’t really supposed to consume them. Some companies even reward employees who DON’T use sick days. This means that super Joe or Jane comes to work spewing germs thus infecting poor Mary or Marty who doesn’t have the strongest immune system and ends up taking sick time. Joe or Jane gets a reward at Mary or Marty’s expense.

The age-old argument is “I don’t have TIME to be sick”. Really? Why is it that doctors say the best remedy for colds is rest and fluids? If you’d stay home when you are first sick, I bet you’d find you feel better faster than if you barrel on like a locomotive infecting everyone for miles.

Don’t even get me started on parents who send sick kids to school. In most cases, I don’t blame the parent as much as I do the parent’s employer. When I was volunteering in my daughter’s second grade classroom, I overheard J, an obviously sick child tell the teacher she couldn’t go to the nurse because her mom would lose her job if she left work to care for J. What is a teacher supposed to do with that?????

My kids inspired this post. Both are home today. I kept the younger one home yesterday because he was a veritable faucet of mucus and is not good at blowing his nose, remembering to cover his mouth when he sneezes or coughs, or washing his hands. Germs are the only things he is good at sharing. He’s 5, I am optimistic this will change. He didn’t have a fever and spent most of the day be-bopping around the house.

The older one also had a runny nose yesterday and the beginnings of a cough, but since she is better at containing her germs and she BEGGED (really!) to go to school. I sent her. I send decongestant with her and when she visited the nurse yesterday, for a regular dose, she complained of a scratchy throat, so the nurse took her temperature it was 100.3. So, home she came. Both kids are still spewing liquid today, but both are better. Still, they are home. Don’t misunderstand me; I’m no saint in this game. I’ve sent my kids into the fray plenty of times when they weren’t 100%, but never when I knowingly thought they were seriously ill.

I’m not really sure what the answer is. Employers complain, that sick time costs money and lost productivity, but I think they are being incredibly short sighted. If they’d allow employees the time to stay home and get well, I think they’d find that that productivity would increase because when employees ARE on the job, they would be well and focused on their work rather than ill and jonesing for that next cold medicine fix.

I work for myself, so I have fairly liberal sick time policies. How about you? What kind of sick time policies does your company have? Can you work from home when you are sick? Are you at risk of losing your job if your kids get sick?

Albinism Featured on 20/20 on ABC

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I have albinism, a genetic condition that causes a lack of pigment in the skin, hair and eyes. This means I have very fair skin, bright blonde hair and blue eyes (blue, NOT red). Oh, an far from perfect vision. When I say “I have albinism.”, some people look at me funny. When I say “most people are more familiar with the word Albino.” Often a light bulb goes off. “Oh, I went to school with an albino.” Or, “My husband’s, sister’s, brother-in-law’s daughter is albino.” Many in the albinism community recoil at being called an albino. It doesn’t phase me so much, but that is a post for another day.

For me, albinism is an inconvenience. It is a pain slathering on layers of sunscreen, wearing a hat everywear and wearing sunglasses even on a cloudy day. BUT, at least I have sunscreen to protect my skin from skin cancer, I have contact lenses and glasses that help me see well enough to drive. I do not have the ultra rare kind of albinism that comes with medical complications. Nor, do I fear for my life every time I leave my house.

Since 2007, at least 53 (probably more) people with albinism living in Eastern Africa have been violently murdered for their body parts. The victims are tortured and killed by violent means as folklore often requires the killer to drink the blood of their victim to ward off dangerous spirits. The corpse is then hacked to pieces and sold to witch doctors for use in potions and salves.

I’m sorry, to be graphic, but the story is THAT disturbing.

According to ABC News, the story was broken by a BBC reporter who went undercover to try and expose the heinous crimes. It has been slow in starting, but there is a movement a foot lead by several non profit organizations including NOAH, Under the Same Sun, and Positive Exposure to shine a spotlight on these atrocities and force the governments to hold those responsible for these crimes accountable for their actions.

For more than a year NOAH has been working with ABC news on a story about albinism. The final product will air tonight on the ABC News show 20/20. There are stories of Americans with albinism, but most of the show is devoted to the crisis in Tanzania. There are preview clips here. From what I can gather this show is NOT suitable for a family audience.

I’m a little uneasy about the content of the show. For the most part, albinism is a rare and misunderstood condition. The lack of vision presents a real problem, but most of the challenges arise from our society’s intolerance of difference. I’m glad the situation in Tanzania is getting some attention. People with albinism there live a life very different from mine in so many ways. I hope that while they highlight the challenges that people with albinism face, they also show that people with albinism are not doomed to a life of suffering (at least not in the U.S.).

If course the irony of a segment about people with a visual impairment on a show called 20/20 isn’t lost on me.

Tune in an let me know what you think.

My Birth Story – Part One

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Dear Mama To Be,

I’m sure you’ve already received bucketloads of a$$vice from people about everything pregnancy, labor and delivery and parenting related. You’ve probably heard more birth stories than you’d care to think about. If you are overwhelmed or feel like you’ve got it under contol than leave now, no hard feelings. If you are open to yet one more perspective, keep reading, and I’ll share my experience with you.

My overwhelming advice for you about labor and delivery is hope for the best, plan for the worst and know reality will be somewhere in between. almost ten years after my first delivery, I can assure that while at the time it seems momentous, in the overall picture, it is a point for reference, just like many others in your baby’s life.

Keep in mind, Fish was a Clomid baby and I wasn’t even supposed to get pregnant that cycle because my ovaries didn’t show enlargement (turns out I had a cyst masking the size of the ovary). Not only did I get pregnant that cycle, but at first, I was pregant with twins, the second sac self terminated within 10 days. I didn’t fight nearly as hard as you did for my baby, but it was work none-the-less.

Some would call my labor and delivery of Fish, a nightmare, I would call it an experience of my own making. I wouldn’t do it again (and I didn’t sort of), but I own my choices and have no regrets.

I read all of the literature about natural delivery. I’m not fond of lots of rules and I really don’t like medicine. Like you, I wanted to deliver at a birth center with limted medical intervention. I went into labor on a Thursday night and we immediately called my friend JS to come over. She and A-Man alternated by my side throughout the night. Labor started and stopped and started and stopped. Come morning we sent JS home. Labor started and stopped through out the day. I called the birth center, they didn’t want to see me yet. The start and stop when on all day Friday and Friday night. Finally, at 11pm Friday night, the mid-wfe suggested some wine to relax me so I would sleep. I only had hard liquor in the house (not even a beer). At this time, A-man didn’t drive, and JS is a recovering alcoholic, so getting wine was out of the question. Let this be a lesson to you :).

I was BEGGING the midwife to let me come in so I could get in the tub. Ours wasn’t big enough and I was convinced that time in the water would get things moving. No go, I wasn’t far enough a long and they were short staffed.

I took a long hot shower and went to bed. Again with the start and stop labor. Saturday afternoon, I got permission for JS to take me to the Y so I could get in the pool. I swam throughout my pregnancy, so they were used to seeing me. I was right. We got in the pool and almost instantly contractions started coming at a regular interval and then buliding with intensity. We swam for an hour and then headed home. Finally I was allowed to come to the birth center. It was 7pm. I was in that soaking tub as soon as she checked me. Labor kept building, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. I rested and tubbed and nothing. Mostly the mid-wife left us alone to labor, which was what I thought I wanted. JS was growing concerned that I wasn’t progressing and after the mid-wife checked me at 3am, Jeanne followed her and advocated for me, strongly. We had notced a valley in my stomach and a tight band around my abdomen. The mid-wife thought that maybe she should call the doctor. I knew at that point, we were going to the hospital. It was more than 50 hours at that point and no doctor was going give any advice without seeing me. I was right. Part of me was dissapointed, most of me was exhausted. I knew I’d given it my best, and I just couldn’t do anymore. I remember sitting in admitting and the very young girl asking me questions and growing impatiet when I wouldn’t answer. “Contraction” A-man growled at her. A-man doesn’t growl at anyone. The doctor checked me and Fish was ok, but showing signs of fatigue as was I. “I know you don’t want a c-section, but I think it is best for both of you.” At that point, I just wanted it to be over. Then, my concern switched to A-man, medical stuff ain’t exactly his bag. I told him if he didn’t want to come in, that was ok. He said he was good, but JS would likely be a little closer to the action than he was.

They prepped me for the ER (including giving me something to empty my stomach), I vommited bile all over a nurse, lucky her. A-Man told me he called his mom and he & JS were prepped for the OR with me. I went in first and the anesthesiologist told me to roll on my right side. I told him to go to hell. Enter the world’s smallest nurse. I swear she couldn’t have been more than 4’ 8’‘ and maybe 80 lbs. soaking wet.

”Sqeeze my hand“ she said.

”I’ll hurt you.“

”Squeeze my hand“ she barked. I did and the anethesologist gave me the epidural, at which time they rolled me on my back and I promptly told him he was my best friend.

The surgery was painless. JS was right beside me and A-Man, behind her.

It’s a girl YESSSSS, I was right.

”Oh and she has the brightest blonde hair“. No shock there really.

Fish had some meconium in her lungs, so she and A-Man went to the NICU while JS stayed with me as they finished up.

They brought Fish to me in revcovery and after a little encouragement, she latched on.

Once I could move my legs, We were brought to our room. JS, went home, and Grammy and Grandpa arrived. They took A-Man back to the house and out to breakfast (where he fell asleep sitting up), Fish went to the nursery (something I had not planned on, but I was SOOOOO exhausted, I knew it was for the best).

We all got a few hours sleep and they brought her back to me to nurse. From then on, she was with us unless we went downstairs to grab a bite in the cafeteria.

All totaled, I was in labor for close to 60 hours. Fish was head down, but posterier (facing the wrong way) and there was no way she would have made it out vaginally. Because of the c-section, I had a 4 day stay at the hospital. For someone who vehemently did not want a hospital birth, I had a great hosptial experience. I even wrote a letter to the director of nursing to complement her awesome staff.

Coming out of that experience, my advice to any who asked was a) trust yourself b) listen to your body and c)remember it is the end result that matters.

Tomorrow, the arrival of Mim.