Fickle Friday: Week RecapPosted: May 31, 2013
I’ve been trying to write on and off all day. Maybe because I’m sleep deprived, maybe because my mind is trying to hold too many things all at once. My heart is fickle today. The kids, disability, laundry, extra chromosomes, preschool, echocardiograms… Sometimes I feel like my skull is full of marbles just crashing into each other at random intervals. I think I have maybe five really big posts in my head and I can’t seem to get any of them out. Bullocks.
Mouse is leaving preschool next week. I’m looking forward to spending the summer blissfully sleeping in every morning (thank gawd, because sorry sweetie, but you are awful in the mornings). The girls will wake up, well rested, get themselves dressed, eat breakfast without struggle, and we will set of on some magical journey of discovery each day. Shhh. Don’t say a thing. This will be the way my summer goes.
Come September, Mouse will be attending a Spanish immersion transitional kindergarten class. Five full days a week. Yup. Big kid school. Hellz yeah.
I’ve been surprisingly affected by the idea of her going to a “real school”. I’m mixed on the school thing, honestly. Homeschooling is floating around. We like the immersion school that Mouse is going to attend, and I like the idea of her learning Spanish, but homeschooling really appeals to me. More accurately, the learning environment of the modern classroom does not appeal to me. I’ll write more about it, I promise, as I’m sure many of you are already lining up what you’ll say to me about why school is important. I’ll be ready for ya.
Back to preschool “graduation”. She seems so grown up, and I can’t stand it. The same little baby whose separation anxiety was so bad that I quit my job is now a fairly independent little girl. I imagine this is just but the tiniest of wee slivers of what empty nesters must feeling, but I did get a flash, just for a second. I did so much for that little baby and not only does she have no memory of it, but she’s going to take everything I give her and use it to leave me. Now kindergarten, later maybe college, then into full-blown adulthood. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about physical leaving. I’m talking about the process of her gradually coming into herself. Emotionally leaving me. I know it is exactly as it should be, but I can already feel the pangs of things to come. Sniff.
LP got his follow-up ECHO this week as well. Thumbs up. The two holes in his heart are both smaller. He doesn’t have any sign of pulmonary hypertension, which is what the pulmonary doc was holding over my head as the big boogey man problem with not treating LP’s sleep apnea. Cardio doc said in most circumstances he wouldn’t want to see LP again for six months, but we’ll go back in three, just to please the pulmonary doc. Ya hear me, pulmonary doc? Lay off now, ok?
While we were doing the ECHO, I was struck again by the beauty of the human body. I watched the ultrasound tech take pictures of the various structures of LP’s heart, and it looked eerily beautiful. The pumping of the valves looked like a ghostly bird, trying to take off despite that it will forever sit firmly in his chest.
On another slightly random note, in Chinese medicine, the heart connects to one’s mental activity and emotional reactions. Its health reflects in the face, and it opens out to the tongue. Makes me wonder what a Chinese doctor would have to say about LP’s health.
Speaking of LP (I know, I never write about him here), we finally seem to be out of the more intense medical guessing games. We went to another pulmonary doctor to get a second opinion on LP’s sleep study. She looked at the study, and said, “Meh, you could try doing a CPAP mask, but I don’t think your son’s sleep apnea is of huge concern.” Contrast this with our original doctor who was scaring the bejeezus out of me over potential pulmonary hypertension and huge brain function deficits. I just had to roll my eyes and carry on. We’re probably not doing a CPAP mask.
Intervention-wise, we are treating his thyroid, however. I know I’d already mentioned it, but holy cow, what a difference. His skin cleared up overnight and turned into the classic soft baby skin. His hair started getting darker and thicker.
I was actually sort of bummed about the extra hair, because I’d been plotting to take a picture of his amazing dictator comb over, but now it isn’t nearly as dramatic. Dictator comb over, you say? Why yes. If Hitler could have had a baby with Kim Il Sung, I believe that baby would have resembled my child. Yeah, I went there. I think it is ok, we have legitimacy. I’m Korean, Latke is Jewish. It’s cool, right? If anyone had legitimacy in making this particular inappropriate joke it is us.
Anyways. I digress. Thyroid meds, check. CPAP mask, no. Dictator comb over, disappearing as you read this strange disjointed blog entry.
I know this entire post is haphazard and strange, but like I said, that is how I’m feeling. I do have some things I really want to write about. Dolls for Downs really sparked an interesting realization on how limiting children’s toys are in general, which made me rethink the idea of what a toy even is. I’ve been thinking about risk, death, disability, pregnancy and Ethan Saylor all come together (I swear it does in my head). I’ve been thinking about the random funny ways I don’t understand American culture references. The word “broken” keeps coming up, and I wonder whether or not it is fair to use in describing a person. I’ve been thinking about homeschooling, homebirth, vaccines, and the government.
Oh, but what to actually pick out in my brain and write about? Makes me wonder what you, friends, are thinking any given day. Are y’all as scattered as I am? (Let’s not actually answer that with too much honesty, lest I realize that I’m the only one.)
Happy Friday. I hope your weekends are filled with minimal crap and maximum joy.