Where's my Hanukkah ham????

I'm going to take a big leap here, and guess that the owners of this store are NOT Jewish.

Little Bekah

I've been thinking about my friend Shannon's daughter Rabekah endlessly since June, but I haven't been able to write about her. Partly because it's very emotional, but mainly because I know there is just no way for words to do her justice, or to explain the impact she has had on my life (and many people's lives)- before she was sick, and since. She's just beautiful beyond words- in so many different ways.
I will write more about her at some point. But in the meantime, click on the link and read her story, from the beginning. Send some prayers her way, for her and for her family.


http://patientsweb.org/rabekah/index.html

Dudley

So, I think my cat Dudley had a stroke Friday night. She (yes, Dudley's a girl- long story) was completely normal before we went to sleep. Yesterday morning, Richard took care of the kids, and let me sleep in for a little while (I have the best husband ever!!). I trudged downstairs and into the kitchen to pancakes on the stove, the kids playing, and Dudley laying against the dog in the dining room. Something was wrong with this picture. Dudley hates the dog. While our other cats have gotten used to his presence, and pretty much act like he doesn't exist, Dudley still screams like a rabid beast and attacks him every day. Otie's scared to walk past the doorway of any room she's in. But here she was, lying against him. Weird.

So I watched them for a minute. Otie, seeing me watching him, moved. Dudley, realizing it was a dog she was snoozing with, freaked out. Dog runs away in horror- good, back to normal.

But Dudley was still acting pretty funny. She stood up, and just walked in circles- to the left. Circle after circle after circle- she wasn't stopping. I picked her up, and she couldn't make eye contact. One was slightly more dilated than the other, but both were still dilating and constricting together. I put her back down, and she walked into the wall. Watching her, I realized she was blind. I would make a sound by her right ear, and she would circle to her left to find the source of the sound. There was definately something seriously wrong with her.

I fed the other cats, and she had an appetite, but the poor thing couldn't eat her food very well. I put a pile in front of her, and she would turn in a circle, and grab a peice as she went by, if she could. She made a mess scattering the food all around her (much to Ezra's delight). Water was even messier.

My first thought was vestibular disease. But, it didn't really seem like it. She had no head tilt, and wanted to eat- no ear issues. She just didn't seem like a vestibular cat...

I talked to the on-call vet at the clinic-I was going to bring her in, but really, there's nothing much we'd do for her there that I can't do at home. Being a cat, she's not going to be getting a CT scan or anything... So, it's a wait and see type of thing.

It could be a stroke- that's what it seems like to me. It could be an accute poisoning (like lead or something else ), but being an indoor cat, probably not. And she doesn't eat paint chips, as far as I know, (though she is a weirdo, so who knows). Could be a tumor that's starting to press on surrounding structures. Could be the begining of some other disease process... Don't really know for sure. But since she seems completely content, other than circling and bumping into things, and being blind, I'm going to wait and see for a few days. I'm giving her an anti-inlammatory for a few days to see if there's any improvement, too. If there's any swelling in her little head, she should look better.

She's the same today, though she has managed to figure out how to get around and do the things she normally does. She gets up and down the stairs (though she does a complete circle on each step on her way up and down!). She gets in and out of the litter box (Thank Goodness! If she couldn't, or was incontinent, that would have been her demise). She's fine-tuned eating and drinking while walking in a circle, and she still manages to attack the dog, even if she's a bit off the mark now.

She's our oldest cat- 12, which isn't really that old for a cat. I got her when I was 20- before I met my husband, before I had any kids- she's been through a lot with me. She's a sweetie. I hope to have her around for a few more years...

We'll see.

It's getting cold...

It's getting cold once again here in Maine. Except for the astronomically high oil prices, I'm actually sort of looking forward to winter this year. Maybe it's because we're in Waterville now, and it won't feel like we're so isolated like we were in St Albans. It'll be nice to not live on a hill with the wind beating mercilessly at our house, on a dirt road that was almost impossible to drive up from December through May. The only thing I'll miss is seeing the deer outside every morning, and the amazing brightness of the stars on a clear night. But then, when I think about having to dig a tunnel through the snow to the mailbox, it seems like a minor sacrifice for all the conveniences of town living. Besides, the skunk living under our porch is more interesting than deer any day!! We've traded the stars at night for a streetlight outside our window, and the sound of snowmobiles and four-wheelers for the sound of cars. But now it takes exactly 2.5 minutes to get to the store for milk, and we can go outside for a walk whenever we feel like it, without having to dress the kids in pounds of gear, and rescue whistles in case they are suddenly completely consumed by the mud.
It's funny- I've always considered myself a country girl, but what did I know? I spent most of my childhood on Long Island, NY. If I couldn't see every detail through the windows of the house next door, we were in the country. I always thought the highways in upstate NY were really creepy because they were so empty. I did go to college in Vermont, at a tiny school in the country (for real), but I lived on campus, around people. I've realized over time that that's what it is- I like to be around people. Solitude is wonderful, once in awhile, but for everyday life, especially with little kids, I really like being close to civilization.
I can't wait to see Ezra's face when we get our first real snowfall- Which should be any day now here in miane, right? He played outside last winter, but It'll be brand new to him this year. I love the look of amazement and wonder in their eyes when they look out the window and see everything covered in a blanket of white for the first time. And the way they giggle when they step outside into the snow, and experience all the new sensations that go along with it. That's my favorite thing about little kids- the way they experience each new thing so fully- and their emotions are so genuine and raw.

Parents

I was one of the few kids I knew growing up who had parents who were still married. That doesn’t mean they had a particularly happy marriage, or should have stayed married, but they were, and it always seemed to be a source of pride for them. They might have been the most screwed up couple on the block, but hey, they were still married. That had to count for something, right?
I’ve often wondered over the years why they stayed married. They clearly made eachother miserable. Or at the very best, weren’t very compatible. But they had this "moral code" they wanted to live by; ( If you get married, it’s forever- it’s an oath before God, and it’s wrong to divorce.) In reality, it was like they had an idea in their heads of how they wanted to live their lives, but didn’t quite have the maturity, character or self-discipline to actually follow through. But if they stayed married, at least they could cling to that. It was the most visible example of how they lived their lives. They could appear to be living life a certain way, when in reality, they weren’t. They also used the whole "we have to stay married for the kids" excuse. I call it an excuse because that’s all it really is. It’s an easy way to justify doing nothing to change a situation that they don’t really want to put the effort into changing. People who say they are staying together for their children are really staying together REGARDLESS of their children. They are being selfish while trying to appear selfless. It’s self-deception, pure and simple. There were many many times growing up that I wished they would just get divorced already. Anyone who thinks it’s better for kids to stay together no matter what is completely wrong. Kids see right through it. Kids want peace and stability in their homes, and yes, parents who are happy, or at least positive. If that can only happen by the parents being separate, so be it. I’ve yet to meet someone who said "yeah, my parents fought like cats and dogs while I was growing up. They were yelling all the time, and we had no stability whatsoever, but I’m so thankful because at least they were together!". Duh.
Anyway, my parents are now separated. Of course, as is the status quo for our family, it took a major crisis for a change to happen. But it’s a good change. My parents were worried about how we were all going to take it, which I think is just silly. There are five of us, and four of us have been out of the house for years. They’re in NY. I’m in Maine, my sister is in Massachusettes, two of my brothers are married and have kids. At this point, their relationship has, like, zero impact on our lives. My first reaction was "it’s about time!!"
I think it’s really the best thing for both of them, especially my dad, at this point. They were stuck in a place where neither of them could move forward in any way with the other one there. Now they have the room to actually work through the personal things they each have to work through. If they can only be the best people they can be without eachother, then that’s the best thing. If eventually they work through stuff and get back together, fine. I really don’t care that much about the status of their relationship. I’d rather just see each of them happy and healthy.
There is a fictional couple that are the perfect depiction of my parents when they were fighting. The couple from the Shining. (The first one). If you take the baseball bat, the axe, and the homicidal tendencies out of the picture, there you have it- my parents. The similarities are actually pretty amazing! (Of course, in the Shining, Jack is the bad guy, and his wife is innocent- in my parents case, both are equally responsible for their problems). It still makes me laugh when I see it.
It makes me wonder, though... As I’ve gotten older, and since having a family of my own, my parents have seemed more and more transparent to me. What are Richard and I going to seem like when our kids look back at their childhood with us? Which crazy fictional movie-couple are we going to remind them of????

A Favorite Quote

"We have bigger houses but smaller families:
We have more degrees but less sense;
more knowledge but less judgements;
more experts but more problems;
more medicines, but less healthiness.
We've been all the way to the moon and back,
but we have trouble crossing the street
to meet the new neighbor.
We build more computers
to hold more information,
to produce more copies than ever,
but we have less communication.
We have become long on quantity
but short on quality.
These are times of fast foods,
but slow digestion;
tall man, but short character;
steep prophits, but shallow relationships.
It is time when there is much in the window
but nothing in the room."

-Dalai Lama

Halloween '07

Who's saving who?

I recently heard another story on the news about a family saved from a burning house by none other than their loving dog. In this particular instance, the family was sound asleep upstairs. There were no smoke dectectors (who needs 'em when you've got a dog?). There was a fire. According to the news report, they think the cat started the fire. (Why is the cat always the bad guy? Sheesh. And they don't even know if that's the case, so why even mention it? But no, the dog saved them, so the cat must've started it.)
Anyway, I digress... So there was a fire ( I personally think the dog started it- probably just to get the cat in trouble). According to the news, dog sees fire, dog thinks of his family, goes upstairs, wakes them up, and as a result of his love and loyalty, saved them from certain death. Dog is now a hero. I love these stories. I really do- they're warm and mushy, and I love dogs. But then I started thinking...
Who opens the door when doggy needs to poop? Not the dog. Who opens the door when dog needs to go out for any reason? Not the dog. So when there's a fire, and dog senses danger, and he needs to get his butt out of there, who is going to open the door? Why was he really up there doing his best to get his sleepy owners out of bed??

Ick

I woke up this morning, went into the bathroom, lifted the lid of the toilet, and what did I see?
My toothbrush, and the full tube of toothpaste.

Ezra strikes again.

Luckily I bought a two-pack the last time i got toddler toothbrushes. I got to brush with the blue crayon. Oh, and strawberry flavored baby toothpaste. Lucky me.

August 22

I continued The story about Calev on my other blog- if you want to read it, just click on the link that says "Rachael's space". He's doing great. He just got back on Friday from 5 days at cub scout camp. He had so much fun- this year, being a Webelo 2, they took a five mile hike up Blackcap mountain, and camped overnight. He brought a camera with him, and took 2 rolls of pictures while he was there. I love looking at pictures that kids take- they're so different from ones Richard or I would take as adults- Kids have such a unique perspective.


A couple weeks ago, we went to EMMC for Calev's echocardiagram, and appointment with the cardiologist. It all looked great- no sign of Marfan Syndrome, or anything at all with his heart (except for an innocent murmur). That made us very happy!! At this point, we can pretty much say he definately doesn't have it. There's no specific test for it- they basically look for certain signs, and diagnose based on that. To get a diagnosis of Marfan's, you have to meet 2 major criteria, as well as a certain number of minor criteria. The major criteria are skeletal symptoms , (like arachnodactly, double-jointed, extra tall, and extra-long bones) Cardiac symptoms (aortal dilation, etc), genetic predisposition, eye problems (specifically lens detachment I think), there may be another one- I'm going on memory here. But basically, Calev doesn't have a single one. He does have one of the minor criteria, which was the spontaneous pnuemothorax, but that's it, and not enough to diagnose a connective tissue disease like Marfan's. His doctor still wants us to keep Calev's appointment with the geneticist, and ophthalmologist, though. I don't really see why, but then, I'm not the doctor...


Since his hospital stay, they put him on an inhaler that's a topical steroid. At his recheck appointment several weeks later, his peak flow was still at 200-240. His doctor said it should be up around 350 at his age/size, and was hoping that inhaler would help, and bring it up. Now thay added Singulair to the mix, and we'll see how that goes. They also ordered a Pulmonary Function Test (PFT) to make sure there's nothing else going on. We just went for that on Monday morning. I really want the results, but don't know if they have them yet. I'm glad they did that test- Richard and I had just been commenting that Calev had a lung issue, and it seemed like they were setting him up with a specialist for everything except for his lungs!!


Really, though, at this point I'm not worried. Sometimes these things happen spontaneously, and there just isn't a reason, or at least not a reason that has any lasting effect.





Now that summer is drawing to a close, at least here in Maine, we're doing as much as we can outdoors. We went to Popham Beach yesterday, which was a lot of fun for the kids. Ezra eats an amazing amount of sand there- He actually just uses his shovel like a spoon, and shovels it in. I try like mad to keep him from eating it, but when you're stitting there on acres and acres of nothing but sand, it's virtually impossible. So, I see it in his diapers for a few days afterwards- and let me tell you, sand is HARD to get off with a wipey!!

Beginning of our summer

Over the past couple of months, things have been pretty crazy. Things always seem crazy, but instead of feeling just BUSY, it’s more like I’m consumed. It’s the only way to describe it. While some things seem to start to return to normal, other things come up- so goes life I guess.
One good thing is we’re completely moved, and we have rented out our house in St Albans. One less thing to think about. It’s our first experience being "landlords"- it’s weird trying to pick someone to live in your house- especially a house you did so much work to, and actually care about. Doesn’t help that St Albans doesn’t exactly produce a large pool of prospective renters- being in the middle of nowhere, 45 minutes from both Bangor and Waterville. But, we’re happy with who moved in.
Moving itself seemed like a daily fiasco- as far as finding a house we liked , and the whole mortgage/closing process. It almost seemed more stressful than it was worth at times. I guess that’s the way it goes, right? I heard buying a house never goes smoothly. And mortgage brokers- ugh. I’ll be happy to never talk to one again. They’re no different than the stereotypical used-car salesman. But, luckily, that’s over too.
There’s a lot more I can go into as far as moving, and some of the craziness going on up in St Albans, especially with my mother-in-law, who , to put it very nicely, is one of the most vile human beings I have yet to meet, but I’ll save all that for another time. All I’ll say right now is that I have an amazing husband, who I have a lot more respect for after seeing how he handled all he’s been put through over the last several months. Everyone tells me I got the one with all the looks from the Haviland bunch, but I think I got the one with all of everything. Those of you who have met Richard know what I’m talking about- he’s just the kindest, most easy-going, hard-working guy ever, and the best father in the world.
Anyway, in the middle of all this, Calev has been having some health issues. He’s always had asthma, which seems to have gotten milder as he gets older. As a baby/toddler, he was using a nebulizer all the time, and we had several ER trips over the years. But over the past few years, he rarely needs to use his inhaler. He only starts wheezing if he has another virus or infection like a cold or strep throat. Otherwise he’s fine, which is most of the time.
Around the 3rd week of June, he started getting a cold- no big deal- we had him using his inhaler about 3 times a day just to make sure he didn’t start having breathing issues because he was coughing a little, along with his runny nose. On Sunday, we went to a friend’s house to help out with some gardening, and Calev was hanging around the pond feeding the trout, and catching frogs (he had a bucket with about 30 frogs in it, along with a big bullfrog!!). He was wheezing a little, so he used his inhaler, and otherwise seemed happy and active. Around 1ish we were getting ready to leave. While we were eating lunch, Calev said he didn’t feel well, and that his chest was hurting a little. He was going to stay longer, and go fishing with Richard, but we decided to head home instead so he could relax, etc. So, we hopped in the car and headed home. Home from where we were was about 45 minutes away, along back roads through tiny towns. About 10 minutes into the ride, Calev started complaining that his chest was hurting a little more, and his wheezing was getting worse. I didn’t worry too much. We thought we’d get home, see how he was feeling, and if we thought it was necessary, we’d head over to Urgent Care (it was a Sunday) and Richard would stay home with the two little ones. Calev was okay with that- he said he wasn’t too bad, thought he’d be okay with his inhaler.
That didn’t last long, though. Maybe 10 minutes later, he said it really hurt to breath, and that his chest was really starting to hurt. I was watching him in the rearview mirror, and he was starting to not look so good. I quickly did a mental estimate of how far we were from home (a ½ hour), how far we were from the nearest emergency room (about 35- minutes) and how far it was from home to the ER (about a ½ hour). We could be at the Er in a ½ hour. If we went home first, it would be at least an hour. Was it really that bad to warrant an ER visit? Maybe we just needed to get home, and rest? Was he just panicking, or was he really having trouble? He seemed pretty normal a little while ago- he’s never gotten bad that quickly before...
All that went through my head in a matter of 3 seconds, and the conclusion I came up with was "drive faster". I looked down at the dashboard, and saw the gas light come on. I looked in the mirror again, and saw Calev with a pained look on his face. "Are you Okay?"
"No. I feel like it’s getting worse." Okay, I turned around, and decided to head straight to the emergency room. But I had to get gas first. We were literally in the middle of nowhere, and I was kicking myself for not getting gas earlier when I had thought about it.
After we got gas, I just headed to Pittsfield, which was the closest hospital, even though it was tiny. Calev at this point was complaining a lot more, and I was getting really concerned. I was driving about 75 mph, just trying to get there as fast as possible, and watching Calev in the mirror, trying to reassure him we were almost there. He started crying, and saying "I can’t breath. My chest hurts. It’s getting worse" Richard went into the back to sit with him, I started to get that panicky feeling. He was clutching his chest, and looked pale, and just really bad. He was taking really short, shallow breaths, which sounded very wheezy. And he just had that look- that sort of pale-bluish, lacking oxygen- it’s hard to explain- it just wasn’t good.
I looked at Richard "What should we do? Should I stop and call an ambulance, or keep driving?"
We decided to keep driving, because we didn’t think an ambulance would get to where we were any more quickly than we’d get to the hospital. Also we noticed we had no cell signal where we were, and were near no houses, and miles away from any stores.
At this point, I could feel myself getting more into panic mode, and had to fight to keep my head clear and just drive. I was trying to run through the steps in my head for CPR, because at this point I thought we might need it. The thought entered my head that he could possibly die, and I have to say, it was the most horrible feeling in the world. And I just felt so helpless, because here we were, in the car, in the middle of nowhere, and all I could really do was drive as fast as I could, and get there. Richard was sitting with him, and talking to him, trying to keep his anxiety level down so that his breathing didn’t get any worse. At this point though, it was his chest pain that worse. He couldn’t even lean back slightly because it hurt so badly, and made breathing more difficult.
Anyway, we got there. I ran in with Calev while Richard parked the van with the kids. There was noone around inside. It’s a tiny hospital. So I just rang the little bell until a woman came out looking rather annoyed. When she saw Calev, though, she called for triage right away, and they got him in. The first thing they did after listening to him is give him a shot of steroids in his muscle, and give him a nebulizer treatment. When they listened to him again, they said his lungs sounded much better, and along with the steroids, he should be fine. He was still in a LOT of pain, so they did a chest x-ray. That came back looking clear. In the meantime, though, he was still crying because his chest hurt so badly. He still could only sit straight up because moving at all made breathing difficult, and made the pain worse. The doctor basically said "well, his radiograph is clear, and his lungs sound clear. He may have pulled a muscle" So they gave him some tylenol and ibuprofen, and we sat there and waited another 45 minutes or so. When they checked in again, his pain hadn’t lessened any. He was in more pain than I had ever seen him in. I knew something wasn’t right, but it seemed like the doc and nurses thought he was just complaining. Granted, kids complain, and they don’t know him, but this wasn’t Calev- something else was going on. She seemed ready to discharge us, but Calev was still crying, and in just as much pain as he was in the car. His face also had a swollen look- his jaw line was basically gone. The doctor checked him over again. She started palpating his chest and neck. He was yelling when she got to his neck/ collarbone area. Suddenly she looked at me and said "whoa! I feel crepitice!" She said she thought he may have a pneumothorax, and sent him to get an immediate MRI. Crepitice is the feeling of air under the skin, which feels sort of like rice crispies. A pneumothorax is the medical term for a collapsed lung.
I got a little scared at that, and sort of confused too,. I’m used to dealing with animals, and the only times I have seen a pneumothorax, it was related to trauma, like getting hit by a car. It’s a medical emergency, and we have to place a chest tube in the animal under anesthesia to keep the air from building up around the lungs to that the lungs can expand again. How the heck could he get a pneumothorax?? But, it made sense with the symptoms he was experiencing.
Once the MRI confirmed that he did, in fact, have air in his chest outside of his lungs, the decision was made to transport him by ambulance to Eastern Maine Medical Center in Bangor, because it was a much bigger hospital, had a pediatric unit, and he could get more appropriate care there.
And for now, I’m out of time to write any more, so I’ll let you know the rest of the story later.
Calev is fine right now, though. Back to normal, and having a great summer.

Double digit

It's hard to believe, but Calev turned 10 years old. In some ways, it seems like such a long time ago that he was just a liitle guy, crawling around, and in other ways it seems like yesterday.
I remember when he was born, and I was figuring out how old I would be when he was 5, 10, 16 and driving, graduating... I was 22. Looking ahead ten years was impossible. So much has changed, yet so much has (nicely) stayed the same.
It's funny- Calev really didn't want to turn 10. He was actually a little upset about it. He kept saying "this is my last year as a single digit- for the rest of my life, I'll be a double digit!" I reminded him he may someday be a triple-digit, but it didn't seem to make him feel any better.

He doesn't want to grow up. I'm glad he wants to be a kid. I remember being ten, and all I could do was count the days til' I was a teenager, then an adult so I could be "free". Of course kids have no idea how free they really are. Kids today seem to grow up too fast, so it makes me happy that Calev wants to enjoy his childhood for as long as he can. Because it's really so so short.
I think, too, that some of it stems from the fact that he has two much younger siblings. They are still so dependent, and demand so much attention. I wonder if Calev sees growing up as growing further away from the dependence and on Richard and I. I wonder if in some ways, he fears being "left out " because he needs less and less of the type of constant attention the toddlers need.
Of course, Calev gets a lot more one-on-one time from both of us. Once the kids are asleep at 7, we play games, help with homework, cub scout stuff, sport stuff, bring him to do the things that are hard to do with toddlers, etc etc. When he's reminded of that, he's always like, "oh yeah!"

Calev finally got his much dreamed about mountain bike for his birthday. He has wanted one for awhile, and has looked them all over many times at the stores. It took a little getting used to because it's so much bigger than his old bike, but he loves it. As the days pass, and he realizes how much more he can do compared to his younger sister and brother (like ride his bike to his friend's, make what he wants for breakfast, etc) he appreciates being 10 a little more.

He's such an amazing kid. I love watching him grow, and seeing how his unique personality develops. He is incredibly artistic, and can draw anything. He loves cars (that's mostly what he draws), but he is starting to get interested in model trains- you know- those really complicated ones that are really detailed and can take up an entire room after a few years. We don't have the space right now, so luckily he can't afford much on his $4 a week allowance. That's $4 before extra jobs and stuff. He says his allowance isn't big enough. I have no experience with this- is $4 a good amount for a 10-year old????

When he grows up, he wants to be a wildlife photographer. That's on top of an artist, an antique car restorer, an astronaut, a veterinarian, and a pro-soccer player. What a wonderful way to see life- as an endless open canvas, full of hopes and possibilities. That's so easy to lose sight of during our everyday busy lives.

He helps me keep in mind what's REALLY important. I'm just so grateful to be able to watch him grow, love him, and enjoy every minute that he's still a child. I don't want to wake up one morning, wonder where the time went, and regret not spending it more wisely.

Idiotic Statement of the Week

I originally wanted to limit this category to one idiotic statement a week. But there are SO MANY to choose from!!! So, I may post more than one. Some may have my comments added, some really don't need much of anything- some idiocy speaks for itself.
Anyway, number ONE for this week:
(this statement is part of a "discussion" on Amy's blog about health and nutrition. Mind you, she calls herself a doctor. Scary.)

Another Mummy:"Are you seriously saying that it's fine to stuff your children full of crap and this will have no effect on them whatsoever?


Dr Amy Tuteur: "Yes. That's what I am saying."


(Now, in case it isn't blaringly obvious, the idiotic statement is the one by "Dr" Amy.)

Oh! I HAVE to add this one (from the same discussion):

"So breastfeeding is best NOT because it is natural, but because it is a superior food that we cannot duplicate. "

heeheeheeheeheehee
Um, yeah.
It's a superior food that we cannot duplicate- WHY?? Because it's NATURAL.
Yes, it is superior. Because it is made by human bodies for human babies. You cannot duplicate breastmilk with something synthetic, or man-made, and produce something equally beneficial. And it's not for lack of trying. (in fact food companies are still trying earnestly). With all of our knowledge and technology, our own bodies still do it better. It's really very simple.

Now back to that first statement. What is there to say?? I'm so glad this doctor enlightened me. And to think, for all these years, I've been torturing my children by trying to make them eat healthy foods. And I could have been stuffing them with all the crap that they wanted! From now on, Ezra will get sprite in his sippy cup, and tootsie rolls with his chicken. He'll love it. Calev, you don't want to eat your veggies? Okay, sure, just have some ice cream instead. Actually, just go ahead and eat ALL the ice cream.
Better yet, instead of reading labels on the food I buy to AVOID all the sugar and artificial crap, I'll read them to make sure I only get stuff with Artificial flavors, red #40, and 23 grams of sugar per serving, etc etc. Because really, these things are put in "food" to make them look and taste more appealing, and what you put in your body has no effect on it according to this doctor. Why not give yopur kids, and yourself only what you want? According to her warped logic, what is the point of eating real food?

This kind of leads me to something I've been thinking about lately. So little of what the average american eats is really FOOD. We put things into our bodies every day that we have no idea about. You don't eat a single thing that has NO effect on your body. That's physiology 101.
Dr. Amy, nor anyone else can say with any credibility that anything you buy, that's marketed as food, is safe, and/or healthy regardless of what's in it. In fact, most of the time, you don't know what's in something even if you do read labels. Why? Because the food industry is not required to let you know. How many things say "artificial flavor(s)" on the list of ingredients? Those artificial flavors are made up of numerous chemicals- sometimes 20 or more, to make something taste or smell a certain way. There is no law that requires that list of chemicals to be on the label. So, if you eat something that says "artificial flavor", you have NO IDEA what you are eating. If you don't really know what you are eating, you cannot claim that it is safe, healthy, or lacks any effect on your body. You can ASSUME all you want, but you do not know anything.

I personally feel that as a parent, I am responsible for what I put into my children's bodies. If I don't know what's in it, they're not getting it. I'm sorry, but I don't have that much trust in the multi-million dollar food industry to assume that they have my family's health or best interest at the forefront of their agenda. If they did, why not list ALL the ingredients in our food? Don't we have a right to know what we are ingesting?

Dr. Amy loves to say that there's no evidence to show this or that to be unsafe. But, you can't really say that if you don't know what you're even ingesting. Furthermore, when it comes to food, drugs, anything that we are putting into our bodies, the burden should be on proving it is SAFE , not saying all is good until it is proven UNsafe. Duh.

Spring In Maine

This is just last week here in Maine. The snow was almost gone, and the temperature was at least in the 40's everyday. It was officially mud-season. The kids were thrilled (as was I) to be able to run around and play without being hindered by all the the poofy layers of snowpants, coats, boots, hats, etc etc.

And my favorite thing of all- the robins came out. About 30 of them milling around the lawn every morning until our 3-legged dog noticed them and chased them around. I finally heard a pheobe- which for me has always been the sign that spring is really here. I love that sound, always have since I was a little girl.
I love this time of year- the longer days, the smell of the earth thawing, the sun, and the sounds- all hinting of the long warm summer days to come...

Then came Tuesday morning. I looked out my window and saw this:


It was actually really beautiful, but, well, it just wasn't what I expected to see on an April morning. I'm not much of a winter person, but I reasoned that it would probably melt by the end of the day, and spring would be back for good.

Then we got a snowstorm. My kids were thrilled. Calev didn't have school, and spent most of the day outside (after I dragged the winter stuff out from where I had packed it away for the season). Eleora and Ezra followed me around the house with their boots until I gave in, and bundled them up. Poor Ezra could barely stand up outside, especially with the clunky boots. He's 14 months old, and has been walking since he was 9 months. He is so steady on his feet most of the time- he runs, jumps, climbs- and he's very determined and strong-willed when he sets his mind on something ... all I can say is he was so frustrated ! Every two steps he was flat on his back, or his face. And when he did manage to get his balance in the snow, Otie kept running over and knocking him back down.

Actually, the picture is a bit deceiving. This is one of the few times Ezra actually stayed up while Otie knocked the other two down. We got a LOT of snow during that storm- I think it was the most we got all winter. And 4 days later it's still here. I wonder if we'll have a spring at all this year?

Driving home today, I saw a field full of Canada geese standing around looking perplexed. It was definately spring when they decided to fly north again. I wonder if they think they got lost?

When we first moved to Maine a few years ago someone said that if you don't like the weather, just blink. They were right. That's how it is here. You just never know what to expect, and it can always change with the blink of an eye.

Only Otie

This is Otie. Some of you know his story- he's a lucky dog. And he tries to be a good dog. Lately, though, I'm wondering if his luck is starting to run out. For a dog with very few brain cells, he manages to figure out a multitude of ways to drive us completely crazy.

I should start with how Otie came into our lives. We got him a little over a year ago. He was a nine-month-old puppy at the time. It was late December, '05, and I was very pregnant with Ezra- I think I was only a couple days away from my due date. I was in Bangor with my sister Debbie (who was up to visit from Mass), and Ellie- just hanging around, eating bagels (Maine has no idea how to make a good bagel, by the way). My husband, Richard called on my cell, and said he was on his way home from work- a mile or so from home, and found a dog lying on the side of the road. Someone had hit him, then drove away and left him there. He wanted to know what he should do. Noone was home at the house he was in front of. We did a basic assesment of his condition over the phone- he appeared to have a broken leg- maybe two, lots of cuts and "roadrash" as we call it, but was alert and responsive. I told him to scoop him up, and bring him home. Once I got there, we could figure out what to do- I didn't want to bring him to the clinic where I worked until we tried to figure out who his owners were, which animal hospital he goes to, etc .
For those of you who don't know- you generally can't just bring a dog into any vet clinic, even in an emergency, and expect to recieve treatment. Some areas have emergency clinics, which work in a similar way as a human emergency room, but the closest one of those is pretty far away, and expensive too.

Anyway, we got in touch with the animal control officer, who came to our house, saw the dog, then went to see if he could contact the owner. He went to the house we tried earlier. When the person there was told their dog had been hit by a car, and needed medical treatment, their response was: "well, we don't have any money, so just put him down."
I can't tell you how angry that attitude makes me. Unfortunately, it's not rare, either. People get pets that they have no real intention of taking care of. I understand not having a lot of money, but then don't let your dog run free where he is more likely to get injured!! Or better yet, don't get a dog at all unless you are willing to take responsibility for him. They didn't say "we have no money, but we care about him, what options do we have?" No. They just said "put him down" and according to the animal control officer, they acted annoyed that he even bothered them at all. They never even asked how he was, or what his injuries might be. Nice people.
Otie, though, is such a sweetie. And he is extremely friendly, and non-aggressive. Even injured, he let me palpate his broken leg, along with his whole body, and he never so much as growled. He licked me whenever he could. He is great with our kids- they can take food out of his dish while he's eating, crawl all over him, etc. Oh yeah- and he was already housebroken, even though he spent his whole life tied outside to a doghouse (except when he was loose, of course).

To make a long story short, we decided to "temporarily" keep him- take financial responsibilty for him, and when he was better, find him a good home. I really really didn't want a dog. Maybe someday, but not now. We already had Maggie- the Great Pyrinese we inherited when we bought this house, not to mention Maggie's cat, who we unknowingly also inherited , on top of the ones we already had.

Well, temporary somehow became permanent, just as his four legs became three. ( The broken front leg never healed correctly, even with surgery and pins, so it was amputated). The kids love him, and he gets around like any other dog, just with a little extra bounce. Things seemed to be great...

Then we learned why he got hit by a car to begin with. He is an incurable car-chaser. He is determined to be a two-legged dog. He doesn't just run after cars- he comes barreling out of the driveway and attempts to run straight into the front tire. Luckily we live on a dirt road, that also happens to be a dead-end, so we don't get too much traffic...

And there are the skunks. A lot of dogs get skunked, learn what a skunk is all about, and avoid them in the future. The dogs who were blessed with fewer brain cells get skunked, then proceed to chase and corner any skunk they see forever thereafter. We got one of those. Of course, there's the trusty skunk-solution, which is a mixture of peroxide, baking soda, and dish soap, and it works great. The problem is you have to cover the dog with it, and let it soak in for 15-20 minutes before rinsing it off. That's the hard part- keeping him still while completely wet and covered with this stuff. All I can say is- pure hell. Though I guess not as bad as the smell of skunk for 6 weeks.

Why don't we just keep him tied up? Well, he's also a chewer. He has actually chewed through 2 or 3 metal cables to free himself. (And actually, except when a car comes by, he stays on our property). We don't keep him inside overnight anymore because of his chewing. He is especially fond of Eleora's shoes- of course only one shoe from each pair. Another of his favorite things are stuffed animlas. He chews these very methodically- he carefully chews each eye out, one at a time. Makes me wonder if he has psychological issues...
Yes, we constanly have chew toys around for him, and nyla-bones, etc. But he's like a little kid- he somehow knows that other people's stuff is much more interesting.

His newest thing is the newspaper. And this is what really drives me crazy. The newspaper represents the only time I have all day to myself- no kids, no husband, no DOGS. I wake up after Richard leaves for work, but a half-hour or so before the kids get up. It's the only time I can drink a cup of tea without sharing, and read the paper without it being pulled at and colored on. If I'm lucky, I even get to do the sudoku, or the crossword puzzle.
Well, Otie discovered to newspaper delivery guy. He sits out there and waits for him to drive up to the box. As soon as he pulls away, Otie jumps up, grabs the paper, and runs. He"ll drop it for awhile somewhere outside, and if I don't get out there in time to find it, he proceeds to attack it, shake it around, and slowly but surely, shred it to pieces.
I've tried everything- including training him to actually bring it to the door for treats, but nothing has worked. I've contemplated rigging the box to give him a shock as soon as his nose touches it (not really), but he's probably not smart enough to make the connection.
So, this is my newest project- trying to figure out a way to either keep him away from the newspaper altogether, or train him to bring it to the door and leave it alone.

Of course there's the ongoing project of keeping him away from horse poop, deer poop, cat poop... he prefers them to doggy treats any day. Gross. I keep a supply of dewormer in the cabinet....

Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated =)

It's "Cheese"!

Well, our littlest guy said his first "real" word yesterday- "cheese". Now he's saying it over and over whenever he wants anything to eat or drink- he's very proud of his ability to actually voice a want or need in a language other than screaming his head off, which he's done basically since the moment he was born.
I say first "real" word because he's said "mama" "dada", and something that sounds like "kitty" when referring to the cat- oh, and he can bark really well. But, cheese he said very clearly, standing on the floor looking up at the counter that had on it a block of, well, cheese.
It's sort of funny- how those little things are such milestones for a baby- he'll say cheese, and lots of other words all the time for the rest of his life, and they'll be just words. But that very first one is somehow different. It's like suddenly, that one little word means so much more than "cheese".
It became the first instant Ezra's little voice produced a sound that had context and meaning that another person can understand perfectly. It became the joy of watching the spark light up his eyes as he heard himself say a word and saw me smile at him and respond. It became that first little step over the threshold from infancy to childhood. The sound of his voice saying "cheese" instantly carried the meaning of all future words his voice will ever utter.
Finally, he has the tools necessary to take that giant leap from this:

To this:

Thoughts on "Dr. Judgemental" and Homebirth

I stumbled onto a blog several weeks ago- basically discussing the safety of homebirth.(www.homebirthdebate.com) At least that's what it claims to discuss. It's more like the ongoing rant of a retired OB who is viciously against homebirth, and also midwives and anything connected to the term "natural".
I'm hardly surprised at the concept of an OB being against homebirth. And I have no problem with someone wading through the studies and literature to find out if homebirth truly is as safe as it's claimed to be by the midwifery community. I'm all for separating truth from fiction. My problem with Dr. Amy Tuteur is that she has an agenda, which she is dishonest about. When she says her sole purpose is to provide women with the facts, then proceeds to post numerous diatribes which reflect nothing more than personal opinion, and routinely attacks positions that differ from hers- based on nothing more than philosophical differences, and again, personal opinion- well, that I have a problem with. Not that I care if she has her opinions- but don't disrespect your reraders by claiming to only be providing facts when facts only make up a small portion of your posts.
The thing is, I don't even disagree with a lot of what she says. My sister called her "Dr. Judgemental" after reading some of her site. I think it fits, so I'm going to use it. It's her utter lack of respect for other people with differnt views that bothers me. Also, her narrow-mindedness. She is so opinionated that she is unable to accept that you can have a different view, and niether one is necessarily wrong. There are some things that are just not worth arguing about- especially when it comes to personal philosophy. Yes, many homebirth advocates are driven by a specific philosophy. But so are doctors, and the medical establishment. I know I always tend to take the middle ground on things, but it's not out of the need to avoid conflict (believe me, I've never run from an argueament!!). It's more out of the fact that both sides (regardless of the issue), have valid points. There is some truth to both. And niether is based on a pure black-and-white principals that all members uniformly adhere to. When someone is so passionate about proving a point that they can no longer see clearly, it's rather sad. Dr. Judgemental does this. She has her preconcieved and largely made-up notion of what a "natural childbirth advocate" is. There is no room for any variation no matter what anyone says to her. She has us all wrapped into her neat little packages- unfortunately (for her) people don't always (or even usually) fit into a perfect little category. It is possible to strike a balance between two diametrically-opposed schools of thought. As a matter of fact, when it comes to this subject; homebirth vs. hospital birth, midwifery-model vs. medical-model, nature vs. technology, etc etc etc..it's actually smarter to look at the positive aspects of both, or at least accept that your way isn't the only "right" way.

I have spent a lot of time commenting to some of her posts. Not really a lot of time, just a few minutes here and there. But, too much time nonetheless. I am convinced she is purposely argumentative- probably just to generate comments, but I realized (as many already have) that it is a complete waste of time. I have many opinions of my own on the subject, and I plan to express them, but on my own site, on my own terms, when something strikes my interest. She has no intention of ever really looking at anyone's arguement with a clear and balanced eye, so why bother? Most people, regardless of their opinion on homebirth, can read her posts, and come to their own conclusions on what motivates her. And it certainly isn't the "Truth" or the "facts" or even the best interest of women and babies. She is driven by her own philosophical outlook on life, and is rather uneducated on the very subjects she routinely dismisses or attacks.
Unlike her constant claims, homebirth is NOT unsafe, by any means, if you are an appropriate candidate for homebirth. There is NO scientific evidence ANYWHERE that shows homebirth to be unsafe. In fact, it has been proven safe time and time again. Is it "as safe or safer than" hospital birth? That is the real question. And the answer is not as simple and clear-cut as Dr. Judgemental makes it out to be. That is something I definately plan on going into on a deeper level when I have the time. (ha- as if I ever have spare time!!)
Anyway, I have lots to say- being a woman who has had 3 very different births- one a c-section in a hospital, the second an intended homebirth with a transport to the hospital, and the third at home with a midwife. I will write about each of these when I have the time, and what my experiences have taught me. I'm not an obstetrician, nor am I a midwife. But, unlike the stereotypical homebirther (according to Dr. Judgemental) I am well informed of the risks and benefits of all options available to me, I am educated, and have a very solid grasp of both science, and statistics. There is a lot of propoganda and un-truths on both sides of the homebirth issue. It's just too bad that an obsterician, who appears to be both intelligent and educated, tries so hard to sway women into her way of thinking by using fear tactics, portraying opinion as "fact", and continuously implying that anyone who disagrees is ignorant, uninformed, and unable to grasp either staistics or science. I just don't understand why she feels the need to denigrate other woman's choices to make her point (with no real scientific evidence to back her up). Luckily not all doctors are like her.

Space Filler

It has been quite a while since I have taken the time to write anything. My page here looks pretty empty with just one pointless post- Maybe another will help a little...
For whatever reason, I haven't been inclined to take the time to sit here and reflect on much- partly because life has been SO busy lately, and partly because it's that time of year. February. Cold. Blah. This is, by far, my least favorite month of the year. Thankfully it's also the shortest.
And February in central Maine is, well, Cold. It's been so cold here even the snow is staying away.
As most of you probably know, I have been working very part time since we had our last baby. I love being home with my kids, and I wouldn't change it for anything. But, at the same time, I miss working, too. Especially because I really love what I do. I'll go back to that soon- I know I have lots of time for that, but my children will be little for only a short time. It passes so quickly- I can't imagine spending most of every day away from them. I would miss so much. As much as I love my carreer, and as much as I learn from it, it could never equal what I have experienced and learned through my children- about them, about myself, about life. I plan on talking about some of those things, at some point.
This blog really has no specific point- it'll probably be a little bit of everything, and nothing- whatever I'm thinking about at the moment. Some of it will be work related- stories, experiences, etc from the animal hospitals/clinics I've worked at. There is never a shortage of funny, unusual, gross, or flat out strange experiences when you work with animals- it never gets boring! But home life never gets boring either, so I'm sure you'll hear lots about that too. Probably more than you want to.
A few of the things that have happened since my last blog (on my (other) space): My brother David, and his wife Sam had their baby girl- December 15. Her due date was March 6, so little Mia came very early. The had us all very worried for a little while, but besides being teeny, and a bit undercooked, she's strong and fiesty, and is now finally out of the NICU and home with her parents. I can't wait to FINALLY see her next week!!!! (we never made it to the NICU due to one or all of us being sick every time we planned a visit).
My brother Isaac, and his wife HIA are expecting their first baby in July. I am so excited for them. Hia told me they just had an ultrasound, and they know the sex of the baby- but I can't say anything yet.
Our littlest guy, Ezra, just turned a year old in January- time flies. Everyone says that, but I've never experienced it as intensely as I do now that I have children, and I can actually watch them change by the day, with my own eyes.
My sister Debbie got her identity stolen. As of last week, they (whoever "they" are) has spent about $20,000 in her name. She won't be liable for any of it, but it's a huge pain-in-the-ass for her in the meantime. She's unsure how exactly her information was stolen, though she was one of the people who recieved notification that her info was compromised about a month ago because some hacker got into company files and stole account information (I forgot the name of the company responsible). She lives in Massachusettes, where a large proportion of the victims were from. No fun- especially since she just started her last semester of law school, and really doesn't need the extra stress!!
There has been lots of other things happening too, but I'm done for now- off to sleep (I know, it's pathetically early...) Goodnight!

Not quite sure what I'm doing...

I finally followed a friend's advice and got a real blog. I'm brand new to this blog thing- and not too swift when it comes to computers in general, but I'll give it a try. Why not? It gives me some much needed quiet time away from the daily chaos of 3 kids, a husband, and various pets...

At the moment, the Superbowl is on- I'm rooting for the Bears. Why? Not really sure. The Patriots are out- , and the Colts are the ones who beat them, so why not root for the Bears? Besides, I think they're the underdog, and I always root for the underdog. Typical way for a female to pick- or so I'm told by annoyed males who don't get why I don't get football...

Ah well, the commercials are good... I guess. Goodnight for now!