Just errrr.... wondering...

"Frustration Boobs"

I have had about 10 people find my blog through that Google search.

Is that the name of a new tv show? Band? Book? Are that many women frustrated with their boobs? And if so, why not write the search "Frustrated With Boobs"? Or "Boob Frustration."

Really.

Just wondering.

Oh, this body of mine...

This has been floating around in my mind for a week or so... so I figure I gotta process it.

In the past six months or so I've put on about.. oh... 7 pounds. Which in and of itself is not so bad... but on top of the oh... 7 pounds or so I already had to loose -- and the fact that I'm pretty small... well. It's a lot. For me. None of my clothes fit. I'm wearing the same outfits all the time. I'm not happy.

But here's the thing. The other day I caught myself. Naked. In the mirror. I have not looked at myself naked in a while. I just have not wanted to. And I saw myself. And I stopped. And I was like: "Hey, that looks like one of those Renaissance nudes. This body... it looks... beautiful." And I quickly stepped away. And I went back. And looked again. And reaffirmed.

You know.. it's not at all skinny... it's like... voluptuous - a little stomach, hips, big thighs.... No rolls or anything.. not "obese" and actually a bit of muscle tone. (And not that there's anything wrong with either of these... rolls, being obese... I'm just kinda trying to process what I thought I looked like in my mind... and the reality of it...) It was not a nude that you see in magazines... but it was a classic nude body.

so I'm taking this information and trying to figure this whole thing out. Why can't I just be happy with that? Why am I so miserable every time I try something on? And WHY am I freaking out about the idea of a bathing suit this summer!

It's funny (not funny ha-ha - but funny weird, strange, upsetting) how society sets this standard of how we're supposed to look in clothes. And here in NYC -- how people dress up & dress high fashion. Most people. Or have that "hip" way of dressing, with the tight t-shirts & the jeans...

I could wear a tight t-shirt - but my stomach would stick out. Why is that bad? It's not a bad stomach? Why do I get so upset when I see it sticking out? Why do I end up wearing bigger clothes, that hide everything? Why do I want to wear a tight t-shirt if it's not the look for me?

Ugh. I have no answers to this. And of course I've started another month of nutri-system. Last time was a bust -- with Max's stomach aches & my comfort eating... With this peri-menopause setting in (and I have to believe that's what this is...) my metabolism is SHOT. S.H.O.T. I've never been like this before, I"m usually able to loose pretty quickly.... but not this time. I'm thinking of investing in an exercise bike (yeah, me and my trust fund) - because I never have time to go to a gym, go for a run.... (And don't say I could be doing exercise instead of doing this! I know that! I have to figure out a new schedule for myself...)

But. So. Anyhow. I don't know. This whole thing is just really thought provoking to me. How I see my body. How I dress my body. How my body is REALLY....

And now for some more matzoh and cream cheese.

10 Plague Bowling Pins

These had me doubled over with laughter at our seder. #1 is blood, #2 Frogs, #10 - slaying of the first born (see his sad face...)

Anxiety.

I know I need to do a post Passover wrap up (it went well!) but just need to vent this now.

X has kind of lost his job. I say kind of because they made him a "consultant." He's on half salary & no health insurance. His fiance lost her job a few months ago (works at an investment bank.. they're all being downsized.)

(And I know - those of you who know me for a while are probably like "X has lost his job AGAIN?!?" The man is a professional job looser/getter. He's really good at getting them. So I guess I"m not TOO worried.

But.

There have been funding cuts here & two of us will lose our jobs. I'll find out by the end of May. We'll get one months' notice & severance... plus I would get unemployment.

We don't know yet - who it will be. It's a small staff.. only three social workers... and some admin.

I'm trying NOT to stress.. because 1) there's nothing I can do to change any of it; 2) It might not be me.

But. You know. My mind goes to those dark places.... me out of work, X out of work, paying for summer camp... Not to mention the fact that I absolutely love this job. I love where I work, too - the agency - my boss is so family friendly that it makes it so easy for me...

She thought she was doing us a favor by telling us now. Being transparent. Letting us know about the process they are going through (budget, etc, etc...) but waiting a MONTH to find out. Pull that band-aid off! I want to know now!

(Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts....)

Somebody tell me now that the economy is doing well. Tell me and all those homeless people I'm seeing more and more of on the streets....

Passover

So tonight's the first night of Passover. Pesach in Hebrew. We (me, the kids, my parents, my sister, my brother and my Uncle!) are going over to J's parents house for the Seder. Big deal, huh? I tell people and their eyes open wider... "You are all going? To his parents' house?" I work with a rebbetzin - her husband is the rabbi at one of the big synagogues down on the Lower East Side... and when I told her what I was doing the first night I could see her practically planning the wedding... (Well, you know, my first husband not being Jewish and all... - though yes, he did convert.. but...) so this is oh so... meaningful to her..

Did I mention that Passover is the holiday where one is allowed to ramble? Especially in blogs. Yep. It's true. There's the line: "And thou blog writer - on this day you are allowed to ramble.. to go off on tangents... whatever." (And yes. They said "whatever". They learned it from their kids!) (So glad I don't have many Jewish readers...)

ANYHOW.

You know, last year was the first time I met J's parent. And my kids. And my parents have already met his parents & all the families have pretty much met.

But still. Our first Seder all together. Should be interesting. You know, of course, that I will report back.

But ARGH!! I have Such. Bad. PMS. Like the kind where you look for things to get upset about? Like the kind where everything is going along perfectly well and you're like "look! Look at that teeny tiny spot over there! Who did that! Somebody's gonna pay! We are all going to stand here and look at that spot and figure out who did it and who is gonna PAY for doing it! All of us! Because my goal is to make everybody as miserable as I am!!"

Ugh.

But it's still gonna be a good day/night? Right?

Tomorrow night the Seder's at my parent's house. J will be coming. His girls will be with their mom and her family. I luck out at not having a Jewish X (yes, he converted.. but...)

There will be photos. There will be videos. (New Flip camera, you know...)

Now I'm gonna go stick my head under a pillow for a little while.

peeps for passover - a set on Flickr

peeps for passover - a set on Flickr

So, I brought Max to the child psychologist yesterday. The psych told me to tell Max that he would be meeting with a "nice man" who "likes to talk and play games" and that I "met the man and he is very nice."

So, that is what I told him.

After he came out & we were walking home Max turned to me and said: "How come you didn't tell me you were bringing me to a psychologist?"

Huh?!

He then went on to say: "A psychologist is somebody you talk to when you have that nervous feeling in your stomach - or have something on your mind. I don't have that nervous feeling in my stomach! Why didn't you tell me?"

I looked at him and said "well Max, most children do not know what a psychologist IS - so I guess I underestimated you. I"m sorry. I should have told you. So, what do you think? Did you like it?"

He shrugs. "Yeah. I liked it. I'll go back."

My kids. I will never underestimate them again!

So here's the thing...

This morning I was waiting with my kids for their bus. They are, like every other morning, all involved in the all important Pokemon Trading. All of them.

So I hear Nathan say: "I'm going to trade this fake Pokemon to Raphael. He won't know. I'll trick him."

And.

I didn't know what to do.

I often feel like I "mother" my boys too much. The other day at Max's Little League game it was all I could do to stop myself from yelling across the field: "Tuck that string into your pants!" And forget about trying to fix Nathan's little league shirt, which hangs down almost to his knees... I'm very conscious that I'm a woman raising two boys. (Ok - there's a father involved, but most of their time is with me.)

So I'm about to say something like: "that's not very nice" but I stop. This is the "code" of the playground. It's kid stuff. You have to let them work out all this stuff on their own.

But then I (mentally) counter myself: "but what about morality? Aren't you supposed to teach them that?" Then I go on to say to myself: "They learn that in the playground, too. It's all part of it. You teach them the big stuff... but the little stuff has to sort itself out." Then, as if I haven't had enough I go on to tell myself: 'Yes, but if they don't want you to hear it - then they shouldn't say this stuff right near you." And I remind myself of how when I was a chaperon on a flight for North American exchange students going to Brazil. There were a LOT of exchange students on our flight - from the US and from Brazil. The one BIG rule for the kids I was chaperoning was no drinking... but all the Brazilians were. And these "kids" were going to be on their own, in a country with no drinking age.... SO - what do I do. I put my head phones on & went to sleep. BUT, at one point I turned around & two kids were behind me. Drinking beers. I told them to put it away. I said: "listen, if you're going to drink, have the good sense NOT to do it right near the chaperon." I mean, come on.

(Ramble much?)

SO. Where was I. Stuck in my early morning morality morass.

I didn't say anything.. but I'm not really sure it was the right thing to do. As we were walking back from Hebrew School this evening Nathan mentioned it again & I jumped right on it. This is the three of us walking together. This is not the same. So I did the ole' "don't do to people what you wouldn't like done to you" spiel & they nodded & were like "ok mom.. whatever..." and that was that.

But still.

Happy Birthday~

the shuckers.

Youth Exchange and Study Program (YES)

Youth Exchange and Study Program (YES)

This is the program my sister works for. I can't wait 'til my boys are old enough (or we move to a bigger place!) to be able to host an exchange student...

You guys are so cool

So tell me. How come I write posts that come from the deep dark insides of my soul and I get one or two comments? I write posts about life changing moments and I get one or two comments? I write a post about a graduation gift.... and....

I now see how it is.

Fine.

Thank you guys for all your great suggestions! She's difficult to shop for. Very strong opinions, very artsy, very "non-traditional" (although somehow likes Banana Republic...).

SO. I've opted for this and a $100 Banana Republic Card. I figure it could give her a bit of a start with any sort of interview clothes she needs... and the other thing is kinda cool, artsy and fun.

That's what I'm getting.

Unless I change my mind.

Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water...

Yes. My new (about three months) wonderful, 26 year old babysitter is pregnant. She told me yesterday. She is five months pregnant and has been feeling fine. She is very happy about it. The father is involved, she has lots of family support, and feels she is the right age.

She says she will continue working until the last day, and plans to come back after. Her family owns a day care that takes new born babies, so she sees no problem. I told her well... let's see how you feel - because oftentimes it's totally different after the baby is born...

I'm not upset, anxious, angry, nervous... or anything. (I don't even want to go into how much the kids like this sitter and how I so do not want to have to put them through getting used to another one!!) I know I have the other (16 year old) sitter to fill in (who actually told me that if it doesn't work out with the current one how she would love to come back). She won't be good for a permanent sitter... but definitely for maternity leave & until I find one... If I need to.) I'm honestly... well... a bit freaked out because it just seems like so much has been happening.

I'm not a drama seeker. I like routine. I like calmness. I like knowing what to expect. Some people need - crave constant excitement. Nope. Not me. A nice boring life with a little bit of fun vacations and diversions thrown into the mix. That's me.

Is this what life is, or doesn't it seem like I've been getting a wee bit more than my fair share lately?

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.