My Babysitter

is pregnant.

Now let's get to the important stuff!

J's older daughter is graduating from college this May. I've already started thinking about a present (simply because I have nothing else to do... Aww... come on... you know what it's like - you have SO much that you focus on the minutia... like I have to explain that!) and am not really coming up with anything...

So, in the midst of my not coming up with anything - I came up with something.

Gift certificates.

I'm thinking like $150-200 worth of gift certificates.

I figure $100 at Banana Republic. $50 at a shoes place (Aerosoles, 9 West..), $25 Jamba Juice and $25 Barnes & Noble or Borders.

So - the all important question my bloggy friends: What do you think? Is this a cop out? Should I get her a gift? Should I put the whole amount into one thing? Should I split it up into more...?

You see... this is what I do when the sheets aren't on my bed & I'm exhausted & am tossing around the idea of just sleeping on the mattress, and when my older son is late with his science project (it was due last Friday & I totally forgot), and I have piles of papers here to put away, and mail to go through, and taxes to mail out, and checks to write, and dishes to wash, and clothes to put away - that have been sitting in a pile at the foot of my bed for a week, and toothpaste to clean off the sink, and towels to pick up off the bathroom floor....

So? What do you think? And is $200 enough? (I'd actually prefer $150... but I really feel like that might not be enough? I don't know - everything's so inflated nowadays....)

I woke up (and I only JUST woke up - am drinking my coffee now...) feeling all discombobulated. I feel really.... I guess... weak. I gave in to X far too easily and the worst thing about it is how it impacts so many other people. My parents have to schlep out here at 8 at night, I lose a night alone with J, and even though X might not really care - my kids lose a night with him.

The only way I can explain/rationalize it to myself... is that all the stuff of the past month has taken a bit of a psychic toll. I want my kids where I can see them. Safe. And when X started to say how the place was going to be all a shambles, no bed, no tv.. and even though I said to X "That's not a problem. They're kids. Give them a few blankets to sleep on & they can deal with one night without tv..." It made me too anxious... the idea of the kids in that chaos made me too anxious. And I let it.

But now I just feel like a fool. I sucked everybody into my anxiety.

And this whole thing with J talking to X -- makes me crazy. I'm not sure why. And that's absolutely something I need to figure out. Because like Heidi says in the comment below - it's really ok. (As is her comment! ) It's more than ok. But still. Sends waves of anxiety through my stomach when I think of it.

Gah! Sometimes I think I just think too much & just need to let stuff BE.

BUT - on another note. Get this: Last night the guy came to deliver my laundry. He picks it up on Mondays and brings it back on Tuesdays. It's my little treat to myself. To allow myself a weekend. He's a young guy & seems to get a kick out of coming by, seeing the kids (they've brought him in & showed him their gerbil...) etc. So I pay him & give him his tip & he leaves.

Door bell rings. He has $20 for me. I gave him a $25 tip instead of the usual $5 (it's a heavy bag.) So, he gave me back the $20 (thank you!!!). Max grabbed the $20 & ran away yelling "I'm rich, I'm rich!" I say goodnight to the laundry guy (John), shut the door and call after Max "You give that back!"

Door bell rings again. John is back. He has $5 that he gives to Max. Then he takes out his wallet and gives $5 to Nathan. I'm standing there open mouthed. I'm like -- you know, this is an awful lot of money for them! He's all "It's ok. It's nothing! Guys! You just listen to your mom, ok?" And leaves.

!!!!!! What was that?!? What just happened?!?

ETA - From my "hero" (J): "Wanting to keep your kids isnt really selfish - he's had multiple opportunities throughout this crises to step up - at each and EVERY point he has not. Nothing else to really say." Yeah. That's my boyfriend. I love him.

This Saturday - we are going to have WORDS.

That's what J just said to me. About X. I think the straw has broken this camel's back.

I have an appointment tomorrow night - for a consultation with a child psychologist. The appointment is at 9 pm. The kids are usually at X's on Wednesdays; so I felt comfortable making that appointment. Also, it was the first available & I just want to get this all taken care of already...

X called me today. Can I switch days? Could he take the kids on Thursday instead of Wednesday? He is moving Thursday morning. (I have asked him time and again when he's moving.... with no answers...) I told him I couldn't - I have that appointment. I said I would see what I could do about finding somebody to stay with the kids - but wasn't too optimistic.

In thinking about it I realized I did not want my parents to come stay with the kids. I didn't want them here when I got back, asking me all sorts of questions... (my dad has already told me not to tell the school that Max will be going for therapy -- that it will follow him on his school record! And these are "enlightened" people!!)

So when I got home from work I phoned X. My parents cannot come. They have plans. You will have to take the kids. He's all "the apartment will be a mess, we'll be taking apart the furniture, there will be no tv..." and whining and complaining.

I start to feel anxious.

I say yes, well, see you Saturday at Little League. He asks what time the games are again. I tell him 9 am for Nathan; 1 pm for Max. AND - if he cannot take them to let me know - that I will pick them up. Then he launches into this tirade how it's so much easier for me - how everything is in Forest Hills... how it's all so difficult for him - how he has to hang around between games.. how it's so difficult with Hebrew School... that's why he doesn't take Max.

I mutter something like "ok. fine." and he's all "You have no empathy! You have no idea how difficult it is for me! You just don't understand!"

Wait a minute! What just happened here?! Did we just swap positions?!?

It continued like that for a while & I hang up. I'm feeling really anxious. I just don't want the kids to go there. I call my parents. I tell X. I tell him I will keep them for Thursday, too. I tell J. And rightly he reminds me that the kids like to be with their dad. That they need to sort out their own relationship with him.

He's right. So I'm left here feeling... well... like I gave in. Which I guess I did. X sees that I give in this time, and he'll do it again. I totally went with the anxiety & should have waited a bit. Talked it out. Something.

I talk to J later & he's all riled up. "He and I are going to have words this Saturday!" Huh? What? "This has been building for a while, and how he didn't help during Max's crisis... this is between he and I. But we're going to talk."

And that sends me into another panic. You CANNOT argue with X. You just can't. He doesn't follow the normal rules of logic and engagement. And the idea of my boys seeing the two of them arguing.... does not sit well with me at all.

I suggest that perhaps he will calm down by Saturday... but J informed me that it is unlikely.

He says that I should hire a sitter for tomorrow & "make" X pay. And I lose it. That's what everybody says -- just "make him" take Max to Hebrew School. Or "make him" pay for camp. But that is NOT reality. He will not. Sure, he might if I get a lawyer and pay the huge bucks to force him to.... he might do lots of things. But that will put the kids in the middle & it will be ugly. I'd have to take things away from him, restrict his visits with them, make him give me more money... and the tension and turmoil it would cause --for the kids and also for me -- I'm just not sure it's worth it. In the end you cannot legislate behavior & personality... and unless I have sole custody of the kids these things will just keep happening.... and in the interest of sanity (mine) I just cannot think about it. It might seem like a huge cop out... and maybe it is. But like I've said - X does not work by the normal rules. He has a different way of seeing the world.

(Doesn't this seem like the worlds longest divorce? Even though we've been legally divorced for a while now... I just don't get why things can't calm down. Maybe I answered it above: X does not play by the rules. He does what he wants & the rest of us have to work within those parameters..)

This is all new for me. J having words with X, me giving in to X so easily and quickly - I had gotten really good at standing up to him... but I think I've lost even more faith in his parenting ability.... this whole feeling anxious about having the kids there -- that's not so good, either. At this point I'm not quite sure how I feel. I'm kinda all jumbled. (Just like this post!!!)

Some thoughts on my yesterday.

So much happened yesterday. I'm still actually trying to process it....

When I was leaving Williamsburg to go back to the Lower East Side I noticed that quite literally no two people on my subway car were the same. No two same race & religion. Hassidic man, Latin American Woman, Asian girl... you get the idea. And at the risk of sounding trite and cheesy.... well... it kinda made me feel good. And I remembered back in NYC when they were having the riots in LA. They thought we would have them here in NYC, too. My office actually closed early, to let us get home to be "safe". I remember we didn't take subways... we walked. I remember telling some friends of mine who lived in walk up apartments.... "Come sleep at my house. I'm in a big building. I have a doorman."

We left work early and did what most young single people do when let out early from work on a nice warm day.... went to a bar. Stayed out pretty much all night. Not too smart if there were going to be riots. But there weren't.

And we all thought and talked about it the next day.. and realized that the big difference between NYC and LA is the subway. We're all together. Quite literally bodies pressed against bodies. Our heads droop on each other's shoulders when we nod off, our bags poke each other, we see each other tired at the beginning and end of work days... and that all really builds community. As strange as that seems.

So. I thought about that.

And I thought about how X actually finally realized that I did/do something. While walking to the subway yesterday, on my way home to take Max to the ER I called X to tell him. I lost it. I asked him if he knew how difficult this has been, and what he experiences is a fraction of what I experience. He said: "I know." "I don't know how you do it."

Stunned silence.

NevereverevereverevereverEVER has X realized what I do. NEVER.

Later he thanked me for taking Max to the ER. Thanked me It was strange to be thanked for taking care of my son... so I'm actually not really sure where to go with that one.

When I talk to J about all this Max stuff he always says we should do this for him, or we could take him to that doctor.. We. A small word. But I notice it. I totally notice it. It's like it's in boldface. It's not you. It's we. (Just to... you know... drive home that point. We.) And. Well. Wow. I'm obviously having a very difficult time accepting this. (As evidenced by Heidi's comment in my previous post. She's right.) I can't really digest the "we" thing. I think... not in the true sense of the word.

Gotta sort that all out, because he is so obviously very there for me... and it's not wrong to need somebody. To need help. And of course I wouldn't think twice about doing the same for him...

Today I kinda got a slap upside my head. I was talking to one of the child therapists & telling him about Max. How he yells in pain. And the therapist kept saying "That poor boy." And my brain flipped. I had been feeling so beleaguered. So overwhelmed. So annoyed. So ... well... so damn sick of his yelling - that I kind of lost track of WHY he was yelling. Even if it's not pain in the physical sense... something is hurting him. For real.

So when I came home today & the sitter told me he was fine all day.. and he starts yelling and moaning that his stomach hurts. As if on cue. I tried. I really truly tried. Then I told him to go in his room and yell. Such a good, kind, social worker mom.

How I Spent My Day (So Far)

This day. Oy. (ETA - This was started yesterday -- before I actually knew how the whole rest of my day would go...)

Slept through my alarm. Totally. Just didn't hear it. Running around getting ready before I wake up the kids & hear a moan... "Mooommmm.... my stomach. It hurts more than yesterday! More than last night!"

Last night I had found out the magical Pokemon Cure. You haven't heard of it? It's the one where you tell your ailing child that if he/she/it makes it through the week you will buy he/she/it a Pokemon Card on Ebay. It's amazing. Works wonders. Ears perk. Stomachs stop hurting.. or at least the VOLUME of the stomach ache is taken down a few notches... it's kinda, almost, all forgotten...

So I responded to the moan: "Remember... you make it through this week.... Pokemon!"

Silence.

It was a tough morning, but relative to the ones I've been having lately... a piece 'o cake.

We make it out & up to the bus. I went off to work - although today I had to visit a client at a nursing home out in Brooklyn. This is the client who got the trach even though he had a living will that stated he did not want to be attached to any machines.

As I'm walking out of the subway my phone rings. It's X. Did I hear from Max's school? The nurse had called him (!!!!) to pick Max up. I said - No. Call them. Say he's staying at school. A roar from the other end of the phone: "I can't! It's crazy today! I can't do this!" I take the wimps way out & say fine. I go into nearby store & call the nurse. Max isn't there. As I'm on the phone with her the school calls. I talk to the woman who works in the office. Max came in with a teacher. His stomach hurts. It's been hurting for 6 weeks. If I do not come pick him up they will call an ambulance.

(It's been hurting for 6 weeks!?!? Really?!?! Well, watcha know! I had NO FRIGGIN' IDEA!) Gah!

I told her everything that has been going on: Three Doctors, One Pediatric GI, No stomach aches on the weekend, the professional opinion (from my shrink) that it does him more harm than good to bring him home... etc, etc, etc. She is sympathetic & transfers me to the.... Assistant Principal.

The Assistant Principal is probably the best person in the school. A very warm, kind, professional woman. I like/respect her very much. So, I tell her the same thing. She said yes, but the teacher was very alarmed. I explain how Max is VERY dramatic. She puts the teacher on the phone with me. I explain to the teacher. She sounds unsure but says "ok, I guess you have to do what's best..." I respond (just at the absolute total end of my rope at this point) that I do NOT have a crystal ball. That I AM trying to do what's best. That I have to rely on my instincts and professionals - all of whom are telling me that there is nothing physically wrong with him. I say that I am sorry if he is disruptive, but I'm just trying to do what is best for him."

I hang up and realize that I am in a Kosher store. I pick up some Kosher marshmallows, which are actually very hard to find. I tell the Hassidic man behind the counter that these are very hard to find. He very obviously could care less. I must go on, though, and say "I guess I haven't been going to the right places." He gives me a "please leave now" smile. (Kosher marshmallows are good for people who are veggies - since marshmallows have gelatin in them that's made from animals.

I went to the NH to see my client. As I'm walking I'm realizing I'm getting some funny looks from people. Then I remembered: I'm in Williamsburg. Brooklyn. This is an area that now is thought of as the young, hip area -- but actually still has a very large Hassidic Jewish population. And there I was. In the middle of it. They were looking at me. Wearing pants. Head not covered. And when I tell you that EVERYBODY there was orthodox/Hassidic -- I am NOT exaggerating. It's not often that a white woman has the chance to feel like a minority.... but I did.

Get to NH. See client. He is in a lovely private room. He has a tube attached to his trachea, a tube feeding him into his stomach, a tube draining his urine. He was awake but would not open his eyes. I told him we haven't forgotten about him. I told him we are trying to get him home. I told him that it is his choice if he wants to have the tube in, or not. That he has to think about it. He turns his head to the wall. I tell him I will be back to see him again.

I talk to the nurse who tells me they are weaning him from the vent. Three hours a day. But he is 87. It will take a long time. Then she says: "You know, we are a Jewish facility. We will not disconnect him."

Oh.

Well, better (for me, I guess) knowing that from the start. I leave not sure how to feel about all this. What can I do? What did I do?

I take the subway back. I stop off at The Essex Street Market which is nearby but I've never been able to go to. I buy myself a carrot cake truffle and wonder at food's ability to comfort.

I get into work and promptly get a headache that I still have now.

Max's school calls. Stomach still hurts. I call sitter. Pick him up.

I talk to one child therapist who is no longer taking patients. She tells me she can hear the anxiety in my voice. She takes pity & gives me referrals for others.

I work. I leave to go on a home visit. As I'm walking to the client I call my house. I tell the sitter that she should still bring Max to Hebrew School. She says he's been laying in his bed for most of the time. I call J. I think it's just time to bring him to the ER. My Dad is actually at my house, I ask if he can stay. He will.

I go on Home Visit. Client is being terrorized by her neighbors. They yell when she puts on her fan. They yell when she puts on her tv. They watch her. She is starting to yell at them. From her apartment to theirs. They are starting to call the management company. She asks if I think she is crazy? I tell her. "Ignore them. If they yell - just ignore them. If they scare or intimidate you - just ignore them. They are bullying you. That's the best way to deal with a bully." She listens. She agrees. I wonder how long that will last and leave.

(Sorry this is so long. It was a long ass day.)

I go home. Both of my parents getting on my nerves. I feel like my mother is telling me that I need to do certain things with Max that I have not done yet. I do not want them to come with me to the ER. I call J. Please. Come. I. Cannot. Deal. Too much. He had plans with his sister. He says I will meet you there later. I had oh so many conflicted feelings: Don't ask him. Ask him. Do it on your own. Need him. Don't bother him. That's what relationships are for; it's no bother. He tells me to be quiet and he will be there.

We go to ER. Me. Max. My Dad. We do all the registration, the triage, etc, etc. Max is scared. He wants to go home. I talk to triage nurse who understands where I'm at. She's like listen: You can put in the time tonight & get the tests done, or wait another two weeks for a GI appointment. I tell Max we are staying. I have to stop the madness.

We sit. Sit. Sit. Sit.

J. comes with his sister. She teaches 3rd grade. She says that she has lots of boys with stomach aches. She does not even let them go to the nurse. I think I have to talk again to Max's teacher.

We go in. One Dr. checks him. Two doctors check him. (We're up to 7 doctors now, people!) He gets an x-ray of his abdomen. He pees in a cup.

He's... say it with me now.... Fine.

Except I have to give him a suppository. Yech. Nice to have another new parenting experience.

We go home. J stays over. We crash at 12:30. I wake up this morning with yesterday's headache raging... telling J I had a bad dream that we spent the night in the ER.

Max will be staying home from school today. I will be calling more therapists.

You Have to Separate....

That's what a co-worker just said to me. That I have to try to keep my home stuff home.. and not let it impact me so much at work.

And she's right.

But how the heck to people do it?!?

Honestly, as you can tell from this blog I've never really been able to keep my stuff in. I haven't figured out, yet, if that's good or bad... and I'm really really trying to learn how/when NOT to spill... (Like the time in high school I told my new employer at the bakery that maybe he did not want me to come in on a weekend... I was new, and not so experienced and maybe.. didn't he think.. the weekend might be a bit much for me? Yeah, he didn't call again.)

I am way, way, too honest & today I got an email from my supervisor. She is starting to "document our supervision for clarity." What does that mean to me? That she's creating a paper trail. I'm not too concerned, because I know I can pull myself back... but it kind of took me by surprise, I guess.

Issues discussed were concerns about personal life kids being sick and
Amy having to miss work. B stated she understood that children are her
priority but she is concerned with how much more Amy can take on and how the
stress is impacting her. Amy said she is trying to keep up with her work and
feels she has been able to. B and Amy also spoke regarding her
monthly stats which have been low since Dec. all full time social workers are to
be pulling in 80 hrs a month. B suggested Amy review her stats and make
sure she is documenting everything.

I had felt like she's supportive.. somebody to talk to... and I guess she is -- but I also guess that she has to be "manager" first.

But lately? This working mom thingy... not really liking it too much. I feel like I can't do either thing well. Not parent or my job. I'm not as good at either as I'd like.

I know it's a tough patch now (Max screamed and screamed this morning - I had to carry him out of his bed - we did not leave the house until 8:10 for an 8:20 bus. He's saying now that he's dizzy, too. He would not move. Didn't eat anything. Didn't even go to the bathroom, I made him dress - practically dressed him. I actually left a message w/the pediatrician for a name of a local therapist. This is almost becoming like a panic disorder & I just do not know what to do.) I come into work every morning with my kishkas in a twist. And I notice it's starting to upset Nathan, too. Max's stomach was FINE over the weekend. FINE. Nathan's fever went away by Saturday... luckily.

Now just to make it through the rest of this week...

Today I did (have been doing) something I have not done in a long long time. Nothing. Not a thing. Have not even showered yet. (Shhhh)

Yep. I called in sick. Kids are with X all day, from last night and I just called in sick. I suppose in a sense I was sick. Everybody at work yesterday gave me the "are you ok?" look. You know the one? Where you look like crap & people are starting to get worried. And the truth is, by yesterday I had totally reached my saturation point. This sickness, this back and forth from work and home with emergency phone calls, trips to doctor, X... and a wee bit o' PMS... well - not a good mix.

Nathan has this on again off again fever. Brought him to the Dr. Sunday & she gave him an antibiotic for a sinus infection. By Wednesday he still had fever. I had the sitter take him to the doctor. The doctor switched meds (hey, did I write this already? Am I repeating blog posts? omigod. There is nothing more pathetic than not remembering if you've written something in your blog already or not!!! Well, I'm home sick - so I should be forgiven.) and said that if his fever is not down with the new med then we have to take him for a blood test. For Mono.

Mono.

Wednesday, after dealing with a HELL of a morning trying to get Max out of bed and to school "MOM you are making a BAD decision! My stomach HURTS!") having the school nurse call me in the middle of a training session, having the sitter call me in a near panic because Nathan's fever went up so much... I had to deal with Max yelling.. ohhhhh... about THREE HOURS. From about six until 8 pm. "MOM MY STOMACH HURTS! IT HURTS! A BAD DECISION! I'M TELLING YOU! IT HURTS!" If anybody had happened by they would have thought I was the most heartless person in the world. "Ok Max. It hurts. Stop yelling. Or, if you have to yell go into your room. Or the bathroom. Just BE QUIET!"

But it's hard. And we've already discussed that wee part of me that is NOT so sure it's nothing... and three hours straight of yelling... well.. I just think - is it possible for a person to keep up a pretense for that long?!?

So, yesterday they were both home. I caved. Nathan still had fever. They were supposed to go to X's Thursday night through Sunday. (My mom was all "how can you send them? He can't take care of them!") But I said to Nathan - do you want to stay here & he responded that he wants to go to his Dad's.. Sooo... I sent X emails of all the meds he'd have to buy (motrin, tums) a thermometer... (And don't ask me how Max's stomach was yesterday at home, last night, or today - or I'll have to kill somebody. It was, of course, fine. Even X is now starting to say maybe we should find somebody for Max to talk to -- but that's probably another post...)

In the end I caved again - and just bought them for him. I figured, I'm so stressed... why add to it wondering if he's going to get the stuff. So I bought him a thermometer, motrin, tums... I packed up all of the kids' meds in little plastic bags, each one labeled... and oh - I've actually done ONE thing today. I've called and texted X about 25 million times.

I texted him at 7:30 am. "Take Nathan's temp before you give him the motrin. first thing in the morning" Then at 8:30 - "give him lots of liquids." Then at noon - called.

His temp which had been going from 101 - 103 has not gone above 99 today... so I'm cautiously hopeful. If not, X will have to take Nathan for the blood test tomorrow.

Now, time to get back to my nothing.

Isn't it so horrible that I feel like I have to get all medical care done for my kids before Friday? From Friday - Sunday they will be with X & I can't depend that he will do... well... anything.

I don't want to miss more work - so I am asking my babysitter to bring Nathan to the Dr today. I am depending on somebody I pay -- more than the children's father.

I know. I said no expectations. And this IS no expectations. But I just can't stop being so incredulous about it....

Have to stop the incredulity (a word?) too.

Greetings from the Sick House

Yep. Fun times afoot.

Nathan has had this weird sort of illness. On again off again. He has fever, about 102-103 one day & the next it's gone - with this strange kind of cough. At first it was loose, but now it's actually becoming a bit more serious.... This has been going on for about two weeks. Brought him to the Dr. on Sunday, she said maybe a sinus infection, gave him antibiotic & he was better Monday. Today: fever again. Gonna take him back to the doctor (hopefully an early appointment!) and my sitter is going to be here the whole day.

I figure I'm not going to stress over whether or not X will help with the extra babysitter money. I need her to come, so I will ask her to come. Too many stresses (missing work, will he pay...) have to cut down on that. Just have to live how I have to live, and if he helps -- all the better.

Max was stomach ache free all the rest of Friday (after X was able to get him off to school) and Saturday... and all of a sudden.... Sunday evening, wouldn'tcha know... Then, yesterday morning it was an absolute teeth gnashing fight to get him out the door.... Allow me to describe: "Max. Get up!" "I can't! It hurts" "Max. Get up!" "But MOM - it really really hurts!" "Max. Get up." "MOM!!" "MAX GET UP OUT OF THAT BED RIGHT NOW! IF WE MISS THAT BUS I WILL BE LIVID!"

Max slithers out of bed, kind of like a snail, or a snake, or maybe more like an inchworm. He can't stand up, you know - because "IT HURTS!" (Sorry, reached my sympathy quota last week.) He inches his way, on his stomach, to the couch. He gets there. "I'll have a flip flop waffle." As right as rain.

Hmmmmm

Then he starts with the Pokemon cards. He is not moving. Not eating. Not getting dressed. Not nothing. Just Pokemon. "Max. Put down the cards. Eat your breakfast." "Ok." "Max. Put down the cards. Get dressed." "Ok." "Max. Your breakfast! Clothes! Put DOWN the cards!" "Ok." "MAXPUTTHOSECARDSDOWNRIGHTNOWORI'MTAKINGTHEMAWAY!" "Ok."

Snatch.

"Oooohhhh... my cards! Ohhhh... you are the MEANEST MOMMY EVER! I am NOT getting dressed UNTIL I get the cards back! I'm NOT!"

(Said in a cold, quiet voice) "Maxwell. I have the power. I have the cards. You will get dressed. Also, if we miss that bus, you know that whole binder of cards that you have...." He got dressed. We walk out the door - and dontcha know - he's fine. Like the whole morning trauma: POOF! Gone.

This morning was eerily similar. Except his hurting/screaming was far more dramatic. I got out my camera phone and videoed. I couldn't believe the drama, the pathos, the nearly real tears....

But he got really upset. He said "I can't believe you humiliate me like that!" "Humiliate?" How does my seven year old even know that word?!? I apologize. I told him I was just trying to calm him down. He said "Did your mom ever do stuff like that to YOU?" I said "Oh no - but she did other things..." (You can talk to your shrink, kid, like I do to mine!)

I don't know... does his stomach really hurt? I think it does.. but I can't understand why it's just during the week? Could the stress of school really manifest itself into these stomach aches? I see him wince in pain, and I can't imagine a seven year old could keep up this pretence for so long...

All his tests came back normal (Celiac, Crohns, etc) I have to take a stool sample (yuck! Even yuckier when I asked the Dr how... don't worry - I won't tell you!) to test for H. Pylori. Every doctor says he's "fine" -- and I have to believe them, right?

But ugh. I'm totally reaching saturation point with all this, that's for sure.

I think I need to start meditating...

(And you know, I almost started to write medicating... which might be ok, too...)

Thursday was parent teacher conference day. I met X & the boys at the school and we all went. The kids got good reports & I was really happy. Max's got amazing scores in reading, and his teacher recognizes that he knows his math - just makes silly mistakes. (Apparently all the boys just want to get their quizzes in first - not caring what the answers are!!) And Nathan's teacher said he's right on track. She showed us how he reads, and also said that he's not as timid with his friends, but is very timid with her.

As we leave X says to me: "What do you think about Nathan's reading. Or lack of it?"

I mention how he's just in his first year of school. But X doesn't hear.

X says: "I think Nathan is so timid because you coddle him. I saw you kiss him after he read that page! You treat him like a baby, that's why he's so timid!" I respond that I think Nathan is so timid - so afraid to make mistakes - because X is so critical.

X states that he is NOT critical. (This is the same man who said to me: "I think Max will do just fine on the gifted test, but I think Nathan will have troubles & maybe should not even do it.") I say that all I ever hear from X about Nathan is critical -- and that while he might not say it directly to Nathan... this is how he feels & this is what he picks up.

X scoffs.

I know I can't even say anything to him, because he won't take it in. He'll say: "I'm just saying it because it's true. I have to speak the truth." He has personality disorder. I'm not a doctor. I'm not a psychiatrist. But I know. Everything around him has to be perfect.

I get so angry at him. So angry. And there's no where to go with it. Friday morning he called. He had the kids - Max's stomach was hurting. I said to give him some pepto or mylanta... He doesn't have. I told him 20 times, in 20 different ways to get it. He didn't. So Max suffers. I say he has to go to school. X says he won't get out of bed. I say he will. Just slowly. I say: "Now you know what I go through every morning." He curses at me and hangs up.

I realize again that the no expectations has to extend to the fact that he will not buy or purchase anything for the boys. If I want them to have these things, I'm going to have to buy them. (I've decided that I'm going to give him a bag of kids' medications for Father's Day.)

So I really have to try to reset my mind. To have no expectations at all. I can't let him get me upset over things that he just will not do. He cannot do. It does no good.

But I still have all the anger. And even if I buy him the meds for the kids, he'll keep saying those things about them. That I can't change.

And the anger that is just starting to sit in my stomach is, at times, overwhelming. I have no where to go with it.

I blog it.

I talk to my shrink about it.

I tell everybody I can about it. I have to get it out.

But I'm starting to think that maybe some sort of meditation.. some way to calm myself down... might be a good idea.

I really just hate him.

I am realizing that I never feel more like a single parent; that I never feel more alone than when one of my kids is sick.

We brought Max to the Pediatric GI specialist on Monday. She took some blood (celiac, crohns, etc) but pretty much said that she thought it was just that his system hadn't gotten back in synch from a past stomach virus. She suggested accidopholous. She said he could go back to school.

I spent most of Tuesday fighting with the school nurse who said to me: "But he wants to go home." To which I replied: "Don't most kids?" I mean, really!?!?! She told him he should be home. She told him I should take him to the doctor. She told him he shouldn't go to Hebrew School that evening. (Hey, maybe she's working for X!!!) The fact that I told her that I've already taken him to THREE doctors (one a SPECIALIST) didn't really seem to.... well... sink in.

And Oh - Monday? The day after X told me that Nathan had a headache? He was home sick. Fever and a cough. He was home Tuesday, too -with 103/104 fever. (He gets high fevers.)

Today? After fighting with Max all day Tuesday and Tuesday night? He wakes up with a temperature of 101. Nathan? Fine. Max's temperature went up to 102 & I just walked by his room & heard him moaning. Which is what caused me to come over here.

I hate this part. I hate not ever being sure. I'm not sure if this is a universal parent thing, or just me... but honestly... my mind just goes to the absolute WORST place. Worst. Like TV Movie of the Week stuff.

J says "For somebody who usually has such good judgement.... with this... well....I'm not so sure" And I know. I can't handle it. I do the inside panic. I keep a very very tenuous grasp on logic and reality... and start slipping off to comas, wheelchairs, amputated limbs.... ("Yes, I know it just started with a fever and a cough... but then it suddenly escalated! And! And! 911 was called. Oxygen administered! And now... we wait... in the ICU to see what happens....")

Should I go into script writing?

I'm making a joke about this because part of me does realize how crazy it is. But the other part... and being here by myself and suffering through it... just sucks.

(And lets not even go into the single parent logistical contortions I have to do with one kid sick & the other one well... bus stops.. parties...)

(And let's also not talk about X not able to come tomorrow & me being late again to work.)

Nope. Let's not.

I'll save it for another time. I hear Max whimpering...

Tell me this never happens to you!

The other night. At J's house. We both woke up for some reason at about 3 am. As we were both drifting back to sleep all of a sudden I said: "The orange! You have to remind me!"

He was, understandably, confused. Orange?

"YES! Behind my couch! It's been there for a week! I keep forgetting! It's going to rot and smell! You HAVE to remind me!"

And I fell back to sleep.

He told me about it the next morning, totally amused. I choose to see it as maximizing my resources and making sure I get the task done.

It's now in the garbage.

So, since about Friday I've been feeling all my tension in my stomach. That has never happened before. Ahhh, the mother child connection. A wonderful thing.

Sooo... where do I begin with this? Max had little league practice on Saturday. Saturday morning. At 9 am. The kids were with X for the weekend. I had initially thought both kids had practice - at the same time - so scrambled around to figure out how we could make that work. Because X had the kids and I hold absolutely NO illusions that he would worry about this. I spoke to a woman who lives in my building. Her husband is Max's coach, the boys are friends. She said that they would drive to Sunnyside and pick Max up. He had already missed one practice & she said there was no reason for him to miss another.

It ended up that Nathan's practice was cancelled - so only once child to one practice. The offer still stood for Max to get a ride, but I told my neighbors that I'd check with X. It's only one child... but then you never know with ole' X....

Spoke to X the Friday before. Asked him. He responded absolutely affirmatively. Yes. He will take Max. It's at a location that is easily accessible. I reminded him that Max COULD get a ride.. but he said he WOULD take him.

You know where this is going, right?

Sunday morning X calls me up. "Nathan has a headache and his leg hurts." (Ummm... so you're calling me why?) I ask: Does he have fever? Does he seem lethargic? Has he been eating? X responds with: "I didn't call you to be interrogated." Still in relatively good humor I respond that I was NOT interrogating, but asking the normal questions a person asks when a child is not feeling well. That there are certain ways you can assess how sick a child really is. I told him to give Nathan some children's Tylenol & take his temperature. (Realizing the whole time that the reason he called me up was for me to say "He's sick? Ok, I'll pick the kids up earlier. I'll deal with it.") I asked how Max had been - he said fine. No complaints all weekend. I asked about practice... (wait for it... wait for it.....) No. They did not go.

I saw red. WHY?!?!? He could have gotten a ride there if you didn't want to take him! He's only made one practice because you didn't take him to the first, and the only reason he made it to the 2nd practice was J went out at SIX AM to get his parents' car to take him!!! X responded that Max's stomach was "sore" so they didn't go. Ummm.. then HOW COME YOU TOLD ME HIS STOMACH HAD BEEN FINE?!? I said, that really - if his stomach had been sore that when I asked he would have said "It was sore on Saturday morning & we didn't go to practice...." I laced into him: "Don't you understand the value of practice? He's on a higher level team this year! They are learning how to pitch! Also, the bonding with the teammates before the season! Not feeling like he's the only one who doesn't know..." I was beyond livid. Beyond. X responds: "I think I know more about sports than you do." I scream "Then put it into action!" and hang up. Luckily I hung up before he heard the string of epithets that came out of my mouth. J heard them, though.

I could not move for a good ten minutes. Just sat there with my hands over my face. J comforted me. We will buy him a mitt, we will practice next weekend. I'll take him to a batting cage. It'll be ok. We'll make sure he gets to all his games. But J is also baffled. He kept saying "Baseball practice was such a great bonding time for me and my dad..." and "But this is what you do? This is what parents do. I drove my girls all over the place. I didn't sleep late for 20 years!"

I'm thinking... what if I try for sole custody? But then what would that do to/for the kids? They like being with their dad. They love it. They love him. He (in his strange, selfish way) loves them. I can't really do it.

I resolve to (try to) not have any expectations of X at all. I resolve to (try to) not get upset when these things happen. But then I think.... what does that do to me if I'm not phased by this? Isn't it better that I still have some standards? I'm not sure I can suspend all expectations I have for my children's father. Not sure at all.

Just Take. The. Time.

That's what my boss said to me about a half hour ago. "You have the time. Take it. Resolve this." (Not in a mean way, more in a I can see how this is wearing on you way...)

And it is.

The school nurse called again today. Max came to her office & she said that he "seems to be in real pain." More than other times. She was like: "I understand you want to wait, but you really should get this checked." I explained that I was at work, could not leave right away, and that it would take me about an hour in travel time. I also said that I would call my sitter - to see if she could get there before me.

I check my work voice mail - a message from Max's teacher. She NEVER calls. Max seems really uncomfortable. In pain. She's been watching and doesn't think there's anything bothering him. "I understand that you want to wait, but you really should get this checked."

I fly out of work in a near panic, visualizing him crying for me... in an ambulance.... on his way to the hospital for an emergency stomachache-ectomy! Or some such immediate emergency procedure that can't wait for me to return! Of course! There I am, on the subway.. unable to be reached by cell phone. I don't know if I can really explain that feeling... knowing your child could be in possible distress - that this is the fastest way to get to him - and being totally out of contact. (And yes, I know, this is how it was before cell phones.. but allow me my moment of drama!)

I call a friend who lives in my building. She is conveniently (for me) out of work. She picked up Max. You know, my sitter is very competent.. but I just felt better having him with a MOM. (Ok, a Dad would have been ok, too...)

I pick him up. He's fine. Hungry. "My stomach hurts a little..."

I talk to my boss. She was very nice. "Soo..... You really should have that checked, you know?"

All these people, of course, want this resolved. As do I. But I was hoping to be able to do it in the least invasive way possible...

I left a message for the Dr. (about 4 hours ago! Why haven't they called me back yet?!?!) and I guess I'll just see.....

A Fake Ache?

Max's stomach still hurts. I kept him home Monday & took him to the Dr. Again. We saw another Dr in the practice who was a bit... errr... surprised that the first doctor had prescribed the Belladonna/Phenobarb. She said that it might actually have messed him up even more.

That's just dandy.

She could find nothing wrong so told Max he had to go to school, to go to the nurse only "if he's dying" and told me to give him some fiber. She said that if it's still hurting in 3-4 days then we'll start the tests.

Monday evening it was HELL here. Max was screaming in pain. I nearly brought him to the ER, but called my friend H who talked me down. She was like "does he look like he's in pain?" I look over at my ruddy faced boy who is pouring through his Pokemon cards. He's not pale. He's not sweating. He's not doubled over.

I don't doubt that he's feeling something. I believe him. BUT - I also think that he is VERY good at the drama...

And also - he keeps saying "I don't want to go to school! Mom, I think you're making a Very Bad Decision to send me to school!" (Yeah, well kid - it wouldn't be the first and it won't be the last!)

It's hard to keep that level head in the midst of all the sturm and drang. And it's hard to prevent the What If's from sneaking into your brain. What If it's something bad? What If it REALLY DOES hurt him that much and you're just ignoring it? What If his appendix just BURSTS and you have to clean burst appendix off the couch?

He goes to sleep & sleeps through the night. The next morning X phones to find out how he is. He asks Max about this boy at the bus stop. It seems X had noticed that this boy hadn't been to nice to Max. X has keen bully radar. I never noticed. It turns out this boy pushes Max, calls him names, and "uses bad words." He's in 4th grade.

I told Max I'd write a note to the teacher. And, for a little while, he seemed ok & I thought I had the problem solved. For a little while (it was good while it lasted) - then he was back again.

Sent him to school - at about 10:30 the nurse calls. I explain. She says ok, he "doesn't look sick" so we won't send him home. She freaks out about the Belladonna... (Join the club!)

Teacher calls - Max is doing fine at school, will get great report card, and is also doing very well socially. She can't think of anything that could be bothering him. Great. I mean, if he had been having problems then MY problem would be solved. But no. He has to be all well adjusted and smart. Just my luck!

He makes it through the day. Goes to Nurse three times, but she doesn't call me. He goes to Hebrew School. His stomach is STILL hurting tonight.

I'm just at a friggin' loss.

If it's still hurting by Thursday I guess I'll take him in for tests.

Tell me - does it ever happen that a person (doesn't have to be me, although that sure would be nice...) gets one month of calmness? No events? I have realized, in my old age, that nobody has the perfect life. Everybody has their "stuff" -- but damn! I'd even take two weeks!

THIS is the part of parenting that I hate

Max has a stomach ache. No other symptoms. Just. A. Stomach Ache. It has been pretty much been going on since last week - but more constant now. And the difficult thing is, the no other symptoms part. If there was fever: a virus. Vomiting? A virus. This? Nothing. He's fine otherwise.

And when my son has a stomach ache does he suffer quietly? Does he moan, quietly, in his room? Right. You know he doesn't. "MOM! It hurts!" (Yeah. That's what stomach aches do.) "MOM! I have a stomach ache?" (Really? You have a stomach ache? I had no idea!!!) "MOM!!!!" (Yeah. That's what they call me.)

Sympathy just oozes from my pores. I know.

But seriously. He's had this for a few days with no other symptoms. (Did I mention that already?) And yes, everybody asks: He's "regular." And I've tried to find out if something is wrong @ school... or something - but he claims not. And he's a talker, he's not much for keeping things in (he's like me - probably be set up with his own blog in a year or so!) so I don't think that it's stress, or something like that.

And, I believe him. I don't think it's a ploy.

We stayed home from school/work on Wednesday & I brought him to the Dr. Dr felt for appendicitis, felt for "masses" (thanks, Doc - my mind didn't even GO to that place - so thanks for giving me something else to worry about!) etc. There was nothing obviously wrong. He asked a bit about diet & bathroom habits. Then he said that he was going to prescribe a "muscle relaxant" - that's been around since he was a kid. Fine. I asked if it would make him drowsy, he said probably not - "at this dose."

I get home from drug store. Open the bag. See the name of the medication on the bottle: "Belladonna/Phenobarbitol" !!!!!!!!!!!! Isn't Belladonna that, like, poisonous plant? And phenobarbitol... a BARBITUATE! For my little boy?!?!? I couldn't bring myself to give it to him. I felt it was like shooting a rabbit with an uzi (or something like that.)

So I figured - let me really really watch his diet. Keep it clean. Have him eat only very bland foods & see what happens. He goes to X's Wed night. I tell X - "Bland foods" He was going to take them for pizza. I say: "Bland foods" He gives Max soft boiled egg. With pepper. I say "Bland foods" he gives Max bologna with mayo for lunch.

Yep.

And oh. Max's stomach was hurting after breakfast at X's. X tells him "you're going to school - tell the nurse." So, who gets the call at work? After a day of missing work? Right. Luckily it was late enough in the day that the sitter was able to go over & pick Max up... otherwise I would have had to leave & miss more work.

I call X to ask him why he sent Max to school. He said Max was "bullshitting." That he's "not really sick." And I was all: "And that's not really the school nurse calling me to pick him up, either." I explained in very well thought out words why he cannot send a child who is yelling and screaming with a stomach ache to school. AND - (because I know X gave this so much thought) how it impacted ME. I touched on the bologna & the bland food issue, too... but talking to a brick wall isn't my favorite thing to do.

Gah!

So I gave Max the (evil) med last night & am keeping him home today. Dr. said to call two days after he's on the med to see what's what. If it still hurts he's going to have to go for "tests" etc.

BUT, BUT, BUT!!! Big news! For the First. Time. EVER my parents are taking the kids overnight!!! Tonight! There is a Walter Wick (I Spy Books) exhibit at a museum near their house & they want to take them... so they're picking them up after school... And the kids are willing to do it! (The mention of Pokemon cards had absolutely NOTHING to do with that! I promise you!) So, we'll see. They might keep them the whole weekend... but we'll see how it goes.

So that part's ok.

My 400th Post!

Yep. Scary, isn't it. Of course some aren't real "posts" some are articles, videos, etc, etc.... so I think we can chop a good 25 or so off the number. So I'll get back to you when it's 425.

Hmm... that was entertaining, wasn't it?

Question: When does a divorced mother have a weekend with out her kids and yet spend most of her days with them? Answer: When she is divorced from X.

Well, honestly, to be fair I don't know that he could have done this without me. And J. Both boys had Little League practice on Saturday. In two different places. (X didn't take Nathan to the one the week before... don't ask....) So I offered X for J & I to take Max to his practice & X take Nathan. Then Sunday Nathan was invited to a birthday party out on Long Island... X doesn't have a car... and I knew he would not bother himself to find somebody to give them a ride. SO - J once again generously helped. We took Nathan to the party.

And yeah, well, I realized something about myself. When I was with X I was always bothered how he never did anything for me. It was all about him. And when we split, and I was dating again one thing I put in my JDate profile was that I was looking for somebody who would "think of me as much and as often as he thinks of himself."

So I found J. Who is wonderful. Who is thoughtful. Who totally went out of his way, got up earlier, drove many more miles for me. For my kids. And it made me crazy. I felt so badly. So guilty. I was taking up his time. I using up his gas. He was forced to go to a party for five year olds... how awful for him. He didn't get to sleep late.... I can go on, but I'm sure you get the gist.

Issues much?

Gah! So we kind of talked about it & he was like "ummm... this is what we do for each other..." And I KNOW that.. but I don't. (You know, that dichotomy thing mentioned in the previous "I'm so neurotic" post. Should tag these things...) He even point blank said to me: "I will tell you if/when it's too much. It's not. Don't worry."

Ahhh.... I can hear my shrink: "We have lots of work to do, here, young grasshopper..."

And sometimes, I am just -- Without Words

The other morning Nathan said to me: "Mom, I saw you naked. I saw you when you were getting dressed!"

So, being the mature mother that I am, having read all the parenting books & knowing that this is what kids do - I responded: "And what did you think?"

And he responded: "It was beautiful."

........

My kids. Well. They just leave me without words.