The Dinoia Family

Wanted: Stories of the 'Real' Foreign Service

All others need not apply.

You see, as I mentioned in my last post, this blog was recently deleted from a blog roll.  Never mind the fact that its presence on that site was specifically requested well over two years ago.  The online community specialist managing the page (at the time) was eager to list it, glad for my input and seemed grateful for my participation.  I always thought it was a rather arbitrary list, but it seemed like a work in progress and names were being added, not subtracted (at first).  Recently and without warning, that inexplicably changed.  Care to guess why? 

I used the "n" word:

nipple.

Sunday evening, when I noticed the blog missing, I wrote to the online specialist who had contacted me way back when.  The next day I heard from a new community specialist.  I was told in no uncertain terms that my blog does not have "content relevant to the U.S. Foreign Service".  When I replied back with a description of the content that is more than related, I received a response from yet another new person.  The response from that person?  

Hopefully, you can understand that some topics covered in your blog are very personal in nature, e.g. nipple cozies, and wouldn’t necessarily resonate with the majority of potential candidates who are interested in learning about the FS life overseas. Through our years of recruitment experience, we found that FS prospects want to learn more about the work that’s conducted, the people and cultures with whom they will interact, the travel experiences, and the individual stories our employees* have to share.  

Oh! They want travel experiences and individual stories.  I'm sorry, have I not been providing that information?

So you mean describing stories about life after a diagnosis of breast cancer while your FS husband is serving in Iraq on an unaccompanied tour 6,219 miles away is not an individual story?  You mean detailing how you got through said issue, how you managed to pick yourself up off the floor each day despite feeling like your world had completely fallen apart (oh, wait, it had) and managed to somehow dust yourself off and keep going with your Foreign Service life is of no interest?  Guess that means I am the *only* one who will ever have to deal with such a thing.

The fact that we ended up doing a second unaccompanied tour?  Booooring.  Or that I had what, 4 surgeries in the past 18 months (scheduled AROUND my husband's most recent posting, so that he would be able to complete his obligations?)?  Um, hello, that's *too* personal, repugnant even!

You know, like life in the Foreign Service.  Unless my life is somehow different and everyone else is perfect.  Do others not have family issues, worries about elderly parents,  kids with special needs (medical or otherwise), curtailments, and  health or safety issues overseas?  Apparently, with the exception of our family, for the other 10,000 or so folks, FS life is charmed.  Right-O.  

Now, if I had received some remotely logical explanation that they decided to rotate blogs (which would be fine, except that they didn't), or something even a teeny bit diplomatic, I might not have thought twice about the situation.  However, there is no way on earth that I can be told by someone who works in recruiting (and, to my knowledge, is not actually in the FS) that my blog is not relevant for FS candidates or their families.  

In fact, today I have been told repeatedly how valuable it is to others, something that made me teary-eyed, but in a good way.  Quite a different response than I had when I read the email from the recruiter, particularly the above in italics, which just struck me to the core.  How could the person manage to pick the *one* issue that would stop me in my tracks and leave me shaken beyond belief?  How could my past illness and my desire to share what I went through (God forbid anyone else in the FS deal with it) be suddenly held against me? 

All because I used the word nipple.  And you thought the lack of world peace was scary?  That's got nothing on my nipple!  

So, want the *perfect* Foreign Service experience?  Well, avert your eyes, it's not to be found on this blog!

Want real life FS experiences?  Stay tuned....because if you thought all bets were off before, you haven't read anything yet.  

 

A huge debt of gratitude goes out to those who have supported me in this matter today, to include those currently on the *official* roll and those who are not or were also removed or, even more inexplicably, never asked.  Many, many thanks to those who have posted (everywhere) with support, including those who are linked below:

It's the Little Things

I Guess I'm Not As Important As I Once Assumed

You're Just Not Quite FS Enough...

What Makes a Blog an FS Blog?

*Yet not all blogs (to include mine) are those of employees, but somehow I'd guess that wasn't realized.  You know, what with the focus on my nipple and all!

 

 

Did you know?

I am officially (gasp, weep, sob) no longer a Foreign Service blogger. Take me off your blog rolls*, unsubscribe, throw away this URL.  That is correct, I do not (I am assuming, *ever*) have Foreign Service content in my blog.

I was informed of this today by...oh, the who isn't important.  Apparently, despite my, oh, nearly 14 years of experience as a DS/FS spouse, a long-time volunteer with AAFSW First Vice-President & currently moderating two Yahoo Groups), having moved how many times, worked overseas, having had recently published articles in the Foreign Service Journal (gee, thought I blogged about them...), and having written about almost all of it:  my blog is of no use to the Foreign Service Community.

I must say, one WEEK before my husband leaves on an unaccompanied tour (where he could deal with, well, use your imaginations), this is a real slap in the face (you know, in addition to the year away).  I guess I forgot when I blogged about the recent event I created and planned for AAFSW that I don't write about Foreign Service issues.  Or maybe it slipped my mind when I wrote this post about how Peter was (at that point in time) departing in 19 days.  Or when Cait and I had our discussion about living overseas and I penned a post on that conversation.  That's right, because if we were in the Foreign Service, we wouldn't discuss moving overseas and issues related to it.  

I wouldn't have signed the form today that allows me to receive ISMA while Peter is gone for a year.  We wouldn't have spent the weekend clearing out the garage and staging his gear for his pack-out on Wednesday.  I wouldn't be writing about how he leaves in exactly 1 week and 1 hour from now.  You know, I'd only do that sort of thing if we were in the Foreign Service.  Thankfully, however, someone has reminded me that I don't touch on that issue.

Maybe the problem is we aren't overseas?  Anyone remember why we aren't overseas? Oh, that's right! Remember that whole bit I went through two years ago while Peter was in another you-know-where scenario?  Of course, not like I wrote about that or any of the issues we had to deal with because we are a Foreign Service family.  'Cause, like I said, we aren't.

Right?  So, I'll go back to my not-FS life now and forget that post I was penning in advance of Peter's departure next week.  After all, who would want to read about that since it has nothing to do with the Foreign Service?  After all, no one in the FS ever lives in the U.S. (for training, UTs or otherwise) or has to curtail a post due to a medical issue.  Nor does discussing those issues apparently count for anything....but somehow, I think I already knew that.

 

*Clearly, I'm kidding.  Unless you are a certain 'official' blog roll, in which case, you have already thoughtfully removed me from your list. You know, the list that I was asked to be on  two years ago?  After all,  I'm not a Foreign Service blogger because my blog "currently focuses on topics outside of the U.S. Foreign Service."   Now off to help my husband shop and pack for his UT and continue to purge for our move to Managua.  Maybe when we live there I can be an FS blogger again?  

Babies, Boobs & Breastfeeding, oh, my!

What a week.  If you haven't been on the internet this week, you might have missed it, but there was a bit of a hullaballoo over...babies & boobs.  Time Magazine decided to do a piece on Attachment Parenting and it ended up being more of an explosion over *extended* breastfeeding.  Or, as most of the world calls it, breastfeeding.  Why do I write that?

Despite AAP and WHO guidelines, it would appear that commenters, particularly those in America, have forgotten that breastfeeding into toddlerhood is normal and accepted around the world.  It is not something that is shameful or needs to be hidden.  Women are not trying to flaunt their parts or "whipping it out" (perhaps my *favorite*  term!), they are just trying to satisfy a need for their child.  Breastfeeding a toddler is not bad, weird, gross, dirty or wrong.  It is simply feeding them.  Contrary to some commenters' thoughts, it is not a replacement for regular food and it does not need to stop when a child can chew.  

I have not discussed this topic for, well, years now, for obvious reasons:  it just makes me too sad.  If you've read my blog, you know what happened in November 2010.  I was literally forced to wean Nicholas and still remember rocking and nursing him the very last time on that side.  Amazingly, I got through it without too many tears.  Due to no fault of my own, his nursing relationship was abruptly being cut short.

This is not to say that he nursed frequently as a toddler, but he did when the need arose.  High fever or stomach issues?  He nursed.  Morning time or a bit at night before bed?  Yes, those were nursing times. Throughout the day?  No, generally not.  He was too busy playing, going to school, eating real food (yes, really, he did!) and enjoying life.  Nursing was not his everything, but a supplement that gave him extra nutrients (the milk changes over time to satisfy the growing child's needs) and did especially help out in those few moments when he could tolerate nothing else.

Such as the time when he was 22 months old.  Peter was back in the DC area for high threat training and Nick had a fever of 102-103?  It wasn't just the fever, though, but also a stomach virus that caused him to throw up no fewer than 5 times in a couple of hours.  I watched him like a hawk and feared sleep. Finally, when the vomiting seemed to have pass, he began to nurse again.  For the next day, he nursed frequently and gradually added in other foods.  I would have been more worried, but I knew that by nursing, he was rehydrating and filling his body with needed nutrients, but not overdoing it.  He also had the extra comfort of being near me when he needed it.  In turn, I was grateful that I didn't have to try outside supplements that he may or may not like, and no doctor's visit was necessary.

Nick is not the only one who has benefited, though.  In fact, he and Kelsey can both thank Caitlin for their abilities to able to (almost) self-wean.  You see, I quit with Caitlin.  I tried...really I did, but I just felt like I was no good.  I was so stressed out.  I had a newborn and a husband with a new job that required way more of him than I had originally been told.  Travel was frequent and the only support I had at home was the dog (helpful with keeping me company and the floors clean, but not so much with everything else).  I nursed her frequently, but then on the poor advice of a pediatric nurse, began to supplement and everything unraveled.

I was told she had weight gain issues.  No, she was not a fat baby, but nor was she unhealthy.  She simply needed to eat more frequently (NOT every 3 hours, but on demand), but I was not given that advice by the pediatrician.  I was too nervous and scared to head to the Lactation Consultant (and had not liked the one in the hospital) and after a horrible experience with attempting to pump at work (was barged in on while pumping on the toilet, the ONLY place to pump at a well-known non-profit in Alexandria, VA), gave it up.  I kept up morning and night-time nursing, but Cait was in daycare, Peter was never home and I was at my limits.  I felt the guilt, however.  I should have tried harder and should have kept it up.  I should have fought for my rights at work and found a decent place to pump.  I didn't realize this until later, though.

Kelsey and Nicholas reaped the rewards from this, however, as I began to use the internet more, to realize that there were laws about pumping and breastfeeding and that I should have and could have fought harder (or at all). Then we moved to Venezuela.  I still remember walking around and seeing women breastfeed with their shirts unbuttoned and not a care in the world.  Women didn't stare, call it gross or point it out.  Men didn't gawk and it was just so natural.  I loved it and vowed from then on that I would do my best with Kelsey. Whether it be fighting for a space to pump or nursing in public (you know, feeding your child?), I was not going to be deterred.  I had a few setbacks, but did my best to work through them.

I had no idea at the time, but I was later so grateful for my turnabout in thinking.  Approximately 13 months after Kelsey was born, she was diagnosed with craniosynostosis.  A month later, she had a 4 hour long cranio-facial reconstruction.  While her recovery was amazing (she was in the step-down PICU by that evening), it sped up even more when she was put into a regular room.  Why?  She was still nursing, so when she couldn't tolerate (or see) regular food, she could nurse.  I was able to nurse her to sleep and while she was in pain.  While her 9 year old self could understand post-surgical pain, her 14 month self did not have the capability.  The nursing eased the pain and I was so glad to be able to do something physically that helped her.

She ended up nursing a total of 21 months.  She was in the process of self-weaning when my mom and I took a 10 day trip to England.  I regretted the timing of the trip at that point in time, but later realized it was the last good long chunk of time I had with my mom.  Sometimes moms know best, eh?

For years we tried to have a third child and had nearly given up when Nicholas came along.  By the time I gave birth to him, I knew several things:

• I was going to exclusively nurse him for the first 6 months...no formula at all and I would use a lactation consultant as my nursing advisor, not a nurse or pediatrician
• He  was going to nurse on demand, any time, any place. I'll never forget being called super mom at the grocery store when Nick was 5 or 6 months old.  I started nursing him in line while unloading groceries.  Guess what?  NO ONE saw my boob, no one freaked out and my baby was happy and fed!  Not that I did not feed the girls as they needed, but especially with Cait, I worried more than I should have about where I fed her...and was hassled about feeding Kelsey in public (I was grossing out customers in a store by quietly nursing her in a corner).
• I was not going to freak about his weight, should he not gain as fast as formula-fed babes.  I knew to expect a long, thin wee one and was not surprised when he arrived as such.
• I researched and researched and found supportive websites.  Kellymom became my best friend.  I loved that we were living in Iceland where breastfeeding was the norm and expected.  Formula wasn't verboten, but no freebies at the hospital and no nursery (only a NICU...rooming-in was also expected).
• I had no preconceived notions of when he would wean.  I knew it would happen at some point and seriously doubted he would still be nursing by age 5 (guess I was right?), but refused to put a timetable on it.  I had a feeling he might be my last (naturally born) child and was not going to let anyone else tell me what I should or shouldn't do.

Which brings me to another point:  support.  One might assume that because I nursed Nicholas for so long or that I had the turnabout with Kelsey, that I must have had amazing support with both.  I did have a lot of support with Nicholas.  Kelsey and Cait? Not so much.  Peter's job required so much of him, my mother tried, but was not around, and I cannot tell you how much negative commentary I received with Kelsey.  From the fact that she needed to eat constantly or that she hated bottles (when I did need to pump), I was not immune from criticism.  Guess what that did? Yep:

It just made my decision to have Nicholas's nursing experience be the best possible that much firmer.  

To my surprise, it didn't actually end as soon as I expected.  While I did need recovery time, one day a month after my surgery, Nicholas randomly wanted to nurse on the other side.  Up until then, I had been in too much pain, but we tried, and it worked.  This went on for a month or so, until I had my follow-up procedure and then he just stopped.  We ended up nursing just shy of 3 years and while some parts of the experience were not ideal, it worked for us.

So, do I know have a clingy, unhappy child who can't do anything by himself?  Um, no.  We have always encouraged independence and use nearly every experience as a teaching experience.  There seems to be the thought that attachment parenting (or parenting, as I like to call it), is somehow wrong, stunts growth or causes a parent to be a helicopter parent.  This could not be further from the truth.  I was by far the most attached to Nick and while I don't like to compare, he is far more independent and outgoing than his sisters were at his age.  It could be any number of things, but I worried so much less with him...and co-slept more, breastfed longer, and carried him more.

Now the article wasn't supposed to be all about breastfeeding, but the title and the cover just shocked people (Kroger actually took it off the shelves...shame on them!).  Are they going to remove the candy and magazines with scantily-clad models, too? Or they might have watched the follow-up Today show episode and seen the 3 year old who was a bit tired and wanting of his mom's attention.  For those who watched that and criticized the parent, did you take into consideration that the child had been on a plane three times in one week?  Did it occur to him that maybe he was just exhausted? 

This post isn't really so much to delve into the topic of my boobs (again, sorry it's just rampant on this blog), but to draw attention to the parents who have helped us and are now being criticized for caring about and nurturing their children.  A friend of mine, Dionna, who writes over at Code Name:  Mama, was the third photo of the six (pictured with her son and daughter).  I have followed her blog for years and loved that her son was just a bit older than Nick.  I felt like I had additional guidance, especially as having a son (vs. another daughter) forced us to consider other things we hadn't with the girls. 

You might also remember Dionna from this post in October 2010.  She encouraged me to write about the experience I was going through.  It was extremely cathartic, exactly what I needed at the time.  She later organized efforts to send me good thoughts and wishes via NPN* and some folks went so far as to treat us to magazine & Netflix subscriptions, as well as books and emails to cheer me up (it worked!). 

So before you pick up that issue and think, ew, gross!, read a bit more about the people who make up the issue.  Read what my friends have written on the topic.  Throw away your preconceived notions and think that maybe what works for each family is best for them.  The people in the Time issue are moms (and dads) just like you and me.  They don't all do everything exactly the same, but have one thing in common:  they care about their kids.  Just like we do.  Really, in this day and age, why do we insist on finding fault with that? 

 

*NPN is Natural Parents Network founded by Dionna and Lauren, who writes at Hobo Mama (another amazing resource!).

 

 

 

 

 

{these moments}: Surprise photo shoot!

{these moments} - A Friday ritual. Two photos - no words - capturing moments from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment(s)' in the comments for all to find and see. 

 

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  Photos courtesy of Jane Martin (Thank you, Jane!!).

 

Success?

I'd like to think so.  Last week, as a part of our initiative to provide an even wider variety of activities and programs, AAFSW hosted the first ever UT (Unaccompanied Tour) Happy Hour.  Like the other happy hours we have begun hosting, we gathered at central Foreign Service-y meeting area and mixed and mingled prior to an evening of panels and Q & A.

You see, when the FSO/DS Agent/OMS (the list goes on and on) goes overseas to an Unaccompanied Post, there is plenty of training.  What to do (what not to do) and lots of manuals about insurance, contingencies and what-ifs that we hope will never be thought of again.  The spouse of the person headed overseas, however, does not get the same kind of training.  There are classes on basic regulations and allowances and security seminars, but all target those going overseas together. Since there are so many different departments out there working to try and assist family members, we at AAFSW thought perhaps it was time to bring them all together.  After all, we are *the* Foreign Service family support organization.

So, we did!  I created the idea of the UT Happy Hour and even managed to plan quite a bit (with help from other AAFSW board members) while recovering from surgery.  We had staffers from several different departments at State speak on the various UT topics and also had a panel of EFMs (Eligible Family Members) discuss issues that affected them during their tours.  Don't worry, I only talked a wee bit and therefore, avoided completely depressing folks with my "woe is me" B'dad tour of 2010.

We had a very full room and while I am sure we did not capture everyone, we did manage to take copious notes that will be shared with AAFSW members.  While maybe not the magic bullet that will suddenly make the UT a fabulous time, it is a wealth of information that ties together the different areas of assistance (with live links, of course).  

Wondering what we discussed?  A few of the benefits, such as ISMA and the travel of separated families.  How to keep in touch without overdoing it and trying to keep all family members at a modicum of happiness even during such trying times.  Discussing methods of communication, various options (where to live and how to decide), and even just ideas for vacations.  Stay at home or take a whirlwind trip?  

While we may not have been able to give each and every person the exact answer that was being sought, I felt like we had a great gathering with a lot of information.  I received feedback that the event was extremely helpful for all who attended, not just those seeking information about UTs, but also those trying to assist family members.  The end result seemed to be a night full of advice and experience, a good lesson in planning for me (it actually went very smoothly overall) and, yes, the thought that we will be doing this again soon.  I don't want to pat myself on the back, but must admit I am very proud of the way the evening came together and excited that AAFSW is creating such new and necessary programs!

 

 

 

{this moment}:

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. Idea courtesy of Soulemama.

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  (The moment was really finding the drawings she scanned into iPhoto.  Hard to capture that in a photo, so thought I'd share her talent a bit....)

 

T-Minus 19 days...

I think.  I've been so busy with recovery from surgery, creating and planning an Unaccompanied Tour Happy Hour Event for AAFSW (gee, if that isn't up my alley...), and with the house and kids in general that there are days I forget Pete leaves in fewer than three weeks.  Might I say thank goodness I remembered it Monday?

It was my first day truly back in action.  I thought I was feeling just fabulous and decided I was going to get back (to the extent I could) into my fitness routine with a vengeance.  I wisely went ahead and told Nick's school he would stay for daycare, went home, took a nap and then had a very fast power walk (almost felt the urge to run at times), came back home, took Kelsey shoe shopping, started feeling weird, and barely made it to the grocery store.  Halfway through the grocery store I was nearly doubled over in pain and wishing to God Whole Foods had those little power carts you see at Giant or Safeway.  The walk that had felt so good at the time came back and bit me in the rear (actually the abdomen) with a vengeance.  I quickly texted Pete and let him know that once I finished at the store, picked up Nick and made it home, I had a date with the recliner for the rest of the evening...he readily agreed and it worked out quite nicely...that night.

Then it occurred to me that 3 or 4 weeks from now, the aforementioned scenario will not be possible in the slightest.  Oh, sure, I can put Nick in daycare or go for a too-fast walk, but if I overdo it, I'm completely and utterly on my own at night, well, at all.  Sigh.  This is where I remind myself at least I didn't wait to do the stage 2 of the reconstruction while Pete was on R&R;  that would have been a total waste of time and a recovery/logistical nightmare.

Luckily, Tuesday, for most of the day, I managed to forget.  Despite not being 100% physically, I'm more with it mentally this week (woot!).  I've been wrapping up the details for tonight's event, working on my schedule for this weekend (I'm sort of half-attending a Girl Scout camping trip), trying to not forget that Cait's chorus trip is Friday (she has to be at school at 5 A.M.!) which is also Pete's last day of work.  I'm also finally scheduling forgotten doctors appointments, finding a new dentist for the kids, remembering that I am being elected VP of Kelsey's PTA next week (yes, ME?!), the need to get Kelsey to an orthodontist (and now that the UT is looming...will be much easier on the wallet), trying to firm up summer plans for the kids without going overboard, but not forgetting to take little breaks now and again.

Like this morning.  Nick will again attend daycare this afternoon, which makes me look like a bad/selfish mom, but gives me the time I need to prepare for this evening's event, maybe rest up a bit, finish paperwork for Kelsey's sleepaway camp and review what she needs for the camping trip this weekend.  I also have to take it a bit easy, as I did nothing more than normal stuff yesterday (okay, and a wee bit of organizing in the basement) and woke up feeling like I'd run a 5K (since walks do me in right now...).  I just remind myself that he enjoys daycare since he is with his school friends, it doesn't cost a fortune and it's really my only option.

I guess I'll be reminding myself of that off and on for the next year or 43 of the next 55 weeks?  Or maybe I should just think about the move next year.  Eyes on the prize and all of that.  Monday night I dreamt that we had just moved to Managua and I must say, I woke up in just *the* best mood.  Yep, eyes on the prize, Jen, eyes on the prize...

{this moment}: Ssh, don't tell Kelsey

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. Idea courtesy of Soulemama.

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  

 

I have a new kind of cozy

but you can't buy it in stores.  Well, you can buy the parts, but they sure don't create this:

Queen's Diamond Tea Cozy

or this one.

 

The "wild zebra."

 

Nope, I have the new style (close your eyes if you fear TMI...this is one of those posts), er, nipple cozy, if you will.  Now, before you say, "Oh, how utterly clever!" I can't even take credit for the term.  My friend, Becky, over at Suburban Matron (who has been a wealth of information and a rock of support), first uttered (well, typed) it (to my knowledge), so all credit goes to her.

Now, I did not directly jump into the cozy, but if you recall, began (or ended) the latest surgery with my bra bandage bondage which was more a massive slathering of gauze.  I was taped to the gills and had the adhesive marks to prove it.  This past Tuesday was the day of reckoning:  my post-surgical visit with Dr. X who would remove all of the bandages (and tape...OWIE!) and then, well, I didn't know what came next.   No after photos, yet, though, thank Gawd.

Dr. X dutifully zipped the steri-strips off my thighs and while my thighs do not appear any smaller (darn you, no lipo!), the "dog ears" (scar tissue) from the first surgery are now gone.  Well, not gone so much as transferred to another location.  You see, since he is a very green doctor and waste not want not and all, those old dog ears are my new....(are you ready for this...think of it in a medical way):

nipple.

Yes, if you remember, while I had a skin-sparing la-la-la awful surgery TWO years ago, the nipple went bye-bye.  For no good reason as it turns out, but I'm trying not to be bitter.  Instead, I am trying to be impressed by the absolutely amazing talents of my plastic surgeon.  He took the bits of skin that held my drains in and turned them into a work of art (well, I think at least in Peter's mind).  

He removed the bandages on Tuesday, the oodles of gauze pads and voila.  Yes, a few stitches, redness and blood, but if I didn't know better....Peter was just in shock and I can't say it wasn't pretty amazing to see what they can do with leftover skin.  Even the color is so similar.  I'm sure it's just temporary and I will still have to be tattooed, but really...quite impressive to look and feel so...natural, so normal, so...symmetrical!

Oh, and the cozy?  Well, the new nipple is actually still quite, er, swollen.  Let's just say I'm glad it's not swimsuit season yet as half of my chest would have a Madonna (you know, in that video) look to it. Not something I'm exactly willing to parade around and show off.  Now, the doctor reminded us that the swelling will go down and things will soon look and feel more like normal.  Of course, given the lifting and tucking on the other side, I'm beginning to lose site of my old normal and just going with natural.

Given the delicate nature of the surgery and the long healing process, the, uh, nipple has to be cared for quite carefully.  Lots of antibiotic ointment and, yes, a newly created nipple cozy each and every day for the next three weeks.  I can't have too much pressure, but have to wear something that keeps all the gauze in place.  The surgical bras (are they made of steel?) help keep it in place, but are just too binding.  

Thank goodness I thought to buy a few camis a while back with a little built-in bra and they are doing the trick without causing too much discomfort.  So, I need an additional 15 minutes or so each day to do the whole thing...slathering, creating the cozy, throwing on the cami, then adding the cover to the cozy (the skin has to be covered by gauze and ointment) and finally whatever else it is I do to get ready.  I've also been throwing a bit of ointment on the left side as it's still looking a little, well, injured, and I figure it can't hurt.  Oh, and yes, just like the bandage-bondage, this bra/ointment/cozy deal is 24/7 until further notice...as well as no baths, swimming, hot tubs.  Did I mention I'm glad I did this before the summer began?

And...there you have it. One more step completed, and really, just a few more weeks until I'm back in my exercise routine and spending most of the day forgetting what happened two falls ago.  Actually, I even do that now for the most part...and it's a pretty good feeling.

Lest I forget (and those of you with skittish minds, avert your eyes), I had the most amusing/sweet/adorable/thoughtful conversation with Nicholas tonight.  He has seen me from the beginning, before, during and after all of the surgeries.  He is the least phased by it (in fact, pretty much not at all) and usually just wants to know how long the surgery will take and will the doctor finally fix my na-nas?

Tonight he happened to see me.  He saw the left side first and said, "Aw, what happened?!"  I explained how they had to nip and tuck to make it equal to the other side (which he then demanded to see).  I removed the gauze, he took one look and said, "Aw, it's growing back!"

And that reminds me that my decision to never hide anything from him gave him possibly (and, yes, a bit inadvertently) one of the best learning experiences of his life.  Not that I wouldn't change the past in a heartbeat, but that little guy has more understanding of this whole situation in his little finger than....well, he's just awesome and that's that.

 

Last night,

Caitlin and I were briefly discussing bathrooms and, how sadly, they still have not yet learned how to clean themselves.  As you know, I am supposed to be laying low, but even then, sometimes get fed up when things aren't done in a timely manner and I just do it myself.  These days that gets me a percocet and a few hours in the recliner and dirty looks from all family members while they lecture me on how I am supposed to be resting.

Be that as it may, it occurred to me that come May 21st, I *might* want to seek some assisitance with the regards to the whole housecleaning bit.  I am not talking about having the staff of Downton Abbey move in, but more along the lines of someone to come by MAYBE every two weeks (MAYBE) and give the bathrooms and kitchen a good scrub-down.  I figured this would give me more time to (on my own for the next year) take care of the kids, plan activities, plan meals, plan a few summertime activities, cook most of said meals, work on decisions for our next post, continue to declutter, install new windows, think about getting new floors, paint most of the rooms in the house, decide what to do with the upstairs bathrooms, maybe adopt a dog since the kids are going to be so "lonely," join a pool so Kelsey can do a swim team, try to fit in summer trips to Ohio and California, and, oh, wait, sleep?

So imagine my delight when I mentioned to the one who is almost as tall as I am (scary) that I was toying with the notion of a housekeeper (and I use that term VERY lightly) for the year Peter is not here.  

OH!  The LOOK!  The DISDAIN!  You would have thought...well, who knows what was going through her mind, but the thought of me getting a break and not having to clean bathrooms (they help, but the reality is...) on a weekly basis just about gave Caitlin heart palpitations.

Then I really shoved my foot in my mouth.  I said something along the lines of, "Well, since we may have some staff in Nicaragua."

"STAFF?!"

I replied I meant that we might have someone to help out with the cooking and cleaning (though mostly cleaning), and perhaps other things around the house.  

"WHY would we have HELP?"

Now, really, I want my kids to be independent and all, but give me a break.  The one chance I have at fairly inexpensive live-in help and I'm going to get dumped on by my teenager?  

You know, we might have a bigger house, we might need help with cleaning and for good measure, I threw in the ole, "We would be providing employment for those who might need it/want it."

Boy, did I get it then..."Now, WHERE did you hear that line?  Who says just because we are in the Foreign Service that we need help in our own house?  I certainly can take care of my own room!"

Yes, she can and she does.  She does her own laundry, vacuums, most of the floor is nearly always visible (as opposed to Ms. Creative in the next room over), and she still has (to my knowledge) her 14 point a.m. checklist.  

So, there we are.  I wanted more than anything to raise a free-thinking non-judgemental independent child whose idea of self-reliance extended to beyond just being able to pick out her own lunch foods at the grocery store.  I guess I got what I asked for...

but I'd still like a little help with the bathrooms, whether here or there.  Is that really so wrong?

I was bound and

determined to attend Nick's first soccer game today.  I hadn't mentioned anything about him being on a team any sooner, as well, up until this past week, we just weren't sure.  We had another one of those 'we need an extra coach' scenarios and guess who did not step up this time.  Actually, to be fair, last time he just volunteered "to help" and the next thing we knew he was Coach Pete.  And wasn't he awesome (c'mon San Ramon friends, did he rock that coaching thing or what?....).

Given that practice sessions led by Skype from far off locations might not go over so well with other parents, we just kept our mouths (and emails) quiet this time.  Then, we lucked out and another parent volunteered...and he just happens to be (get this!) the head soccer coach at the University of DC!  Well, now extremely glad we just kept the idea of Coach Pete to ourselves.

Practices began yesterday and while Nicholas was a bit nervous at first about being a "teamer" he quickly warmed up after meeting new friends at practice.  Being that my incredibly swollen and slow self is still convalescing, I skipped practice in hopes that resting up would allow me to attend the game. It did and so glad to have not missed his....first goal!

Yep, the Little Guy managed to score the first goal of the game!   He had a free kick, hit it right in and boom, the white team scored!  He played at least half the game, if not more, and had a great time running, kicking, stopping and randomly looking around (most of them did this, I think it's required...and adorable) and just getting sweaty and having fun.  He loved snack, he loved hanging out on the sidelines (and on Dad's shoulders) and I am so glad we signed him up for this trial run.  As we found out with Cait, this age is perfect to find out if they really have interest or not, especially as it is so non-competitive.

Shoot it in the wrong goal? No worries! Other team scores?  Go red team, congrats!  

I don't know even know the final score, just that they had fun and I managed to walk one quarter of the way to the car (about 20 yards) before I was in massive pain and had to hang by a light pole until Pete picked me up.  Given my long sleeve shirt and sweat pants (bad idea on a hot day), you can't see my bandages and I'm sure I was given many a looks for my shuffle and moans of pain because I tried to walk more than a step a minute.  You know, cause I look so young and all (as if).

Oh, and my get-up?  Yep, I'm still bound in that direction.  No changes in that regard until Tuesday when I have my post-op with the famous Dr. X.  At the pre-op appointment, he insisted I was doing terribly well, and that all was healing beautifully.  He even thoughtfully ignored my beached whale look (which is now twice as bad).  So, I would offer a slew of photos of me looking absolutely fabulous, but all we have right now are these (avert your eyes if you are squeamish about large amounts of tape and gauze):

Yes, I know, I look lumpy, bumpy and a bit weird all around (see the tape up to my neck?).  However, God forbid anyone else ever has to go through, this is what a Stage 2 DIEP looks like 5 days post-surgical.  Oh, and my chest is not screwed up as much as it might look ...those wrinkles really belong to this massive amount of bandaging.

Yes, there I am in my glory.  My swollen, gauzed up, overly-taped, then constricted by a super surgical bra glory.  FYI, there will be no other before and afters, not to worry, as I don't even know that I will be looking on Tuesday.  I'm sure the PS will want to ooh and aah over his work, but I'll definitely be covering my eyes...at least at first.  As an added bonus, I will spare you the "bweeds" (according to Nick) that the PS gave me when removing the dog ears of my abdominal scar.  

There, hope I haven't offended anyone or been added to an indecent exposure list, but figured in case anyone who had seen me in person was wondering what on earth could make me look so odd...well, there you have it, at least until Tuesday!  

{this moment}: He's a teamer!

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. Idea courtesy of Soulemama.

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  

 

I'm back...

sort of.  More details later, as I'm still a bit fuzzy on the past two days, but all apparently went well with the surgery.  I think it was somewhere in the realm of three hours and he did everything but lipo (not needed...I'll take that as a compliment?).

I'm still feeling the effects of the anesthesia and due to the ab work, will be on painkillers for a bit. I'm also a bit more restricted (oddly enough) than other surgeries.  I'm not even allowed to walk for a week other than around the house, no running for a month and you should see the get-up I have to wear.  My chest is so bound-up and I'm taped up to my neck. Thank goodness no fancy-pants events for me any time soon.

Lest I drivel on any longer, I just wanted to say thank you for all of the good wishes we have received.  There is nothing more comforting than having folks check up on you from far and wide.  Just wanted everyone to know the thoughts and prayers are very much appreciated and hopefully I will feel more with it soon...for now, though, I think I feel another nap coming on....

The grand finale

is finally commencing.  Right about now, I'm being rolled into...oh, I know, "What, this again?!"

Well, hopefully it is the last...NO.  No, it is the last surgical update you will ever see related to the blip. The only follow-up to this is tatooing, which will not happen until Peter's first  R & R (quite a bit of healing needs to take place first).  So, today's dealio is simply lopping off ye old dog ears on the scar running neath my belly button, minor adjustments, and well, prolly not lipo (I'll take that as a compliment?).  A much shorter procedure than the last and still outpatient, but I'll be taking two weeks or so off for recovery purposes.

So, if I'm quiet for the next few days (ha, as if!), you know why.  Many thanks for all of the good wishes and now it's off to la-la land....

We decided the eve

of the 'grand finale' of the surgeries should be a less than stressful day.  We had been promising Nicholas a family day for quite some time and this definitely fit the definition.          

On a friend's recommendation, we opted for Scott's Run in McLean.  It has quite the reputation, as apparently the land, known as the Burling Tract,  was barely saved from being a housing development back in 1970.   We are grateful that it was as not only are there plenty of other areas in which to build, but this is a gorgeous piece of land.  We are thrilled that it was left untouched with the exception of the trails.

 

He will quite literally have to outgrow these beloved boots. They are the most multi-purpose shoes he has ever owned.

 

Not sure if you can tell, but a photo of Kelsey taking a photo of me.

 

The waterfall at Scott's Run (from a distance).

 

The falls...small, but still impressive.  Oh, and, of course, Cait compared to Gullfoss.

 

Finally relaxing after nearly a 2 mile trek to the falls.

 

As Nicholas would ask, "Why DO people litter?"

 

Peter had to offer to help (it's steeper than it looks). The boy has no fear and I have visions of solo rapelling down sheer cliffs....I mentioned 127 hours and Nicholas was fascinated...of course!

 

The coolest creek crossing (for those who don't feel like getting wet), I've ever seen.

 

Um, it was a very warm day.

Even a nature preserve might have droids lurking around....

It was a gorgeous day, an amazing (okay, and tiring) hike and the perfect way to end the weekend.  I almost forgot what waits for me tomorrow at noon...

 

We're either completely awesome

or the coolest parents on the planet.  Oh, wait, maybe it's both!  Why?  Well, for sending our daughter away by herself to a land far, far away...but we have to, given that she has missed it so much.

She?  Caitlin.  It?  The land of fire & ice.

It's not difficult to understand her homesickness, given that she lived there during such formative years of her life.  We were supposed to visit in late 2010, but then our lives went you-know-where and unfortunately, we just couldn't make it.  This broke her heart, as did the fact that we could not go last year, either.  In fact, it wasn't until we thought about Peter going to...over there...that we realized we might be able to fit in a trip this coming fall.  However, Cait will beat us to the punch, as she is boarding a plane at the end of May to spend a whirlwind of a week in and around Reykjavik with a dear friend and her family.

My friend, Berta, has graciously opened her home to Cait for 7 amazing days so that my not-so-little girl can spend time catching up with friends, inhaling the clean air of Iceland, scarfing down fiskur og fronskur (see, I haven't lost my Icelandic!), careening through the lava fields, walking along the beach, embracing the midnight sun, hot-potting and swimming in any weather and re-living the life she left behind three years ago.  Of course, it will be different...people will have grown and places will have changed slightly.  However, I bet it is just enough of the same to make her heart very happy happy happy for a week or so...and given all that has happened over the past two years, that's all that really matters.

Happy Confirmation, Cait!

Love, 

Mom & Dad

 

{this moment} : Get set!

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. Idea courtesy of Soulemama.

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  

Phew,

that's over and no more until September.  What's that?  "That" would be the visit to the oncologist.

I don't really have a schedule, so can't say it's the every 3 month or every 6 month visit.  In fact, until the week before the visit, I generally forget about the whole thing....which is just the way I like it.

If you remember, I felt kind of cruddy last year.  I might have looked fine, maybe even better than usual on the outside, but the inside felt like crap.  It wasn't until that past few months that things suddenly started to look up.  Whether it was the start of school, an uptick in my activities, I'm not entirely sure.  However, things started to click and I was more like my old self.

My old self, however, never had to worry about remotely frequent visits to doctors.  Oh, sure, I had them, but until October 6, 2010, I never stressed out about them.  Now I get a major case of white coat syndrome every time I find myself in a waiting room.  The fewer visits I have, the better I feel.

Today was a 3 month follow-up of sorts.  I had last visited the oncologist just prior to my DIEP in January.  If you remember, I received boatloads of snark from the nurse practitioner and promptly vowed never to see her again.  I mean, really, I don't need MORE stress about this issue, do I?

Today was also, I suppose, a chance for the doctor to ask *the* question...the one about the medicine.  No, I'm still not taking it and, no, I have no inclination at this time to take it.  I figured the entire visit would be centered around that.  Thankfully, I was wrong.

Once I arrived (don't ask about traffic...oh, this area...), it was a good 20 minutes before we were even taken back to a room. Weight, blood pressure and temperature were taken and all acceptable levels/rates.  We then had to wait....and wait...and wait.  Finally, when it seemed like it might be time to reschedule, the door opened.  The doctor walked in (as did a med student...yippee) and sat down to chat.

We reviewed my basic history.  I had finally obtained the blood test results from the hematologist regarding the scrubbing of my blood to determine if I might be more prone to clotting issues.  For the most part, no.  One protein was slightly lower than it should be.  The doctor noted that it shouldn't cause me any issues with the medication, but stopped there.  Given my family history, no one can say for sure what would or wouldn't happen.

We reviewed all of the other labs, annual exams and such that I had taken upon myself to have completed over the past three months.  I did finally have the doctor visit  I had been dreading for 14 months.  And my worries?  Completely unfounded.  Everything was normal, my vitamin D level was up and my liver levels were just fine (slightly awry in January due to the surgery/narcotics).  

I then had to acquiesce to the lovely physical exam.  Might I add how tired I am of these?  There is the idea that when one has the surgery (or surgeries) I had, one becomes numb or can no longer feel things in certain areas.  This, thank goodness, is not the case for me, in part due to having the DIEP (though I had plenty of feeling prior to that).  So, the numerous exams, especially after surgery, are just getting...tiresome.  I'm weary of being prodded and felt up and thus, when the whole sordid affair was over, I was thrilled when I sat up and she said, "Why don't we just not see you again until August?"

This ended up turning into the first week of September, since there is no way we can verify that Peter will be home in late August.  Early September, however, should be more than doable.  The better part?  Well, she did bring up the medicine (tamoxifen) again, but it was a very brief discussion and not nearly as stressful as it could have been.  

She asked, "Have you thought about taking it?" and before I could answer, Peter jumped into the discussion, reminded her that I had just had surgery, will be having more on Monday and really just am enjoying getting back to my old normal.  She nodded and then said she just wanted to check.

I added that I thought about it occasionally, but, the thing is, I'm happy right now.  I'm finally nearly back where I was before this whole mess began and I don't want to screw with that.  The reality is that I can't start the medicine right away and nor would I.  I'm not willing to go there when Peter is about to leave for a year and there will be no one that I can reach over and wake up in the middle of the night if something seems wrong.  There is no guarantee that it will help, I will not feel better simply by taking it and could in fact, end up feeling much worse.  That's not something I'm willing to risk as I'm embarking on a year of solo parenting.

The doctor then reviewed my Oncotype score and remembered just how low it was.  She remarked that it didn't mean there wasn't any chance of recurrence, but said, "It IS a low chance..." Exactly.  Very low and very unlikely anything will happen again.  And for now, given how good I finally feel, well, I'm not willing to mess with that.

I'm sure there are some out there who completely agree with me and there are some folks that think I'm nuts.  That is absolutely fine with me.  I'm not telling anyone else what he or she should or shouldn't do with his or her body.  However, I do know what is right (and what is not right) for me at this time.  I am keeping my options open and will revisit the issue again in September. By then I will be healed to an even greater extent, Peter will be home on his first R & R and the only thing that might be stressing us out will be a back to school shopping list or two.  

I also, just might, based on this visit, might not be so stressed out next time.  The visits are really nothing more than check-ups, are further and further apart and will end eventually.  In fact, if they continue beyond next July, they will be down to once a year.  I suppose even my wimpy self can handle that...

Meet the President?

No, we didn't.  Have a blast at the 2012 White House Easter Egg Roll?  Absolutely!

I have wanted to go to the Easter Egg Roll for years, if not decades.  I remember being jealous as a child of those lucky-ducks who got to skip school (well, in a few cases) and head to Washington, DC, to roll Easter eggs on the lawn, maybe hang with the President and take home a souvenir egg after an afternoon of fun.

After eons of waiting, my dream came true today and I cannot say that I was disappointed in any, way, shape or form.  I am also extremely grateful I had the forethought not to wear 4 inch heels  (oh, yes, you should have seen the espadrilles on one woman). Thanks to my friend, Jen, we ended up scoring four tickets to the Egg Roll.  We nabbed the perfect time slot:  2:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. (so Nick could still go to school) and decided to give Nick a double-thrill by taking the Metro into the city.  

Peter took the afternoon off, met us at home and once we donned our Easter finery, we headed to Arlington and parked the car (far easier than in DC).  We took the train from Rosslyn to Metro Center and Nick just loved it. It was an easy walk to the White House and the line to get in was virtually non-existent.  We already had our wristbands, so we only had to pass through one security line and voila, and an eggstravaganza that would thrill any child (and many adults).

 

Almost too much to choose from...

 

Mrs. Bunny was a no-go for a photo-op with Nick.

 

Nick loves Martha, but this was as close as he felt like getting.

 

We posed for pictures (everywhere), rolled eggs, participated in the eggtivity zone,  listened to a concert by a favorite band (of Kelsey's), saw a TV star (well, from the Disney Channel...thank God Pete recognized her), ran around, sat on the grass, rolled around on the lawn, took more pictures and when all was said and done, exited the grounds to collect our wooden eggs.

 

Required family photo.

 

Let's roll!

 

Over quickly, but they loved it!

 

Comfy clothes were a very good idea....

 

 

A memory she will have for a very long time.

 

Kelsey and one of the stars from Shake It Up (in the background). 

 

Nothing like chilling on the White House lawn...

 

Madame President?

 

Possibly my favorite photo from the day.

 

The perfect souvenir.

Now Nick is even more intrigued and hopes for a return visit to see the inside of the White House. Well, one can dream, right?

 

It's not Easter

Without those dark, late at night photos which are as about as fuzzy as your brain when you took them. Someday, SOMEDAY, I will learn and somehow get the kids to sleep early so the, er, Easter Bunny can come early and I can actually get some sleep on a holiday eve night.  

Laughing yet?  That's my late April Fools' joke!  Early to bed, as if...

So, we have a plethora of pics that look like this: 

 

 

It also looks like Christmas instead of Easter.  I did that thing that I always do where I buy stuff, hide it in random places, forget about it and then compile it all late at night and realize I've gone slightly overboard again.  Oops.

To be fair to myself, about half of these items are fun Easter treats from the grandparents, so I can't take all the credit. 

I also can't take credit for the egg hunt.  I'll spare you the video (you will thank me if you have motion sickness issues), as I clearly did not major in film production.  The iPhone is great for videos, just not when I am taking them...

Oh, and we also have many fun post-Church pics.  Cait and Kelsey sang in the choir, as expected and I only wish we could have been closer.  Twenty minutes early was not early enough and we ended up in the cry room. Not a bad view, but not as easy to concentrate and/or see them singing.  C'est la vie.  It was a good service, the music was beautiful and the day could not have been more gorgeous.

 

We finished up the afternoon with lunch at the Peking Gourmet Inn.  No, I really just didn't want to cook. The closer we get to Pete's deployment, the more we have to do.  I figured we'd spend as much at the grocery to buy food in preparation as we would at the restaurant, so why not just treat ourselves?  Pete got hooked on PGI after accompanying a certain 'former ambassador from somewhere over there to the U.S.' there on evenings out, as well as going several times while on the Secretary's Detail.   If you haven't been, GO, because there is Beef Proper, which is pretty much like food crack.  'Nuff said.  

 

The paparazza was getting to him.

Overall a fairly stress-free holiday, which is very good considering everything coming up (surgery a week from tomorrow...eep!).  Oh, and that Lenten going to bed early promise thing?  Well, I tried and actually succeeded on a few nights...but there is always next year, right?

 

 

 

Remember this

Little Guy?

Who doesn't love a good cherry tomato?

Now we've got the Big Guy....

He was actually after the apple cider from the farmers market.

I'm pretty sure the fun has only just begun...

{this moment} : Get set!

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. 

 

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  

 

We've been

quiet the past few days, as we have been sans kid and thus, escaped town for a night.  Our friends, the amazing Salty Dogs, took on our crew for a few days so that Peter and I might have a night away special in West Virginia.

Peter paid a surprise visit to his parents last weekend, so the kids and I offered to help the Salty Dogs by driving out, taking over their house and babysitting their LG on Saturday.  He was a  gem, as to be expected, and we had much fun.  My coup of the day Saturday?  I drew a lovely flower, but Nate pointed to it and shouted happily, "Propeller!"  Win/win! (Had I tried to draw a propeller, neither a propeller nor a flower would it have been.)

Saturday evening, I drove back home and had a whole night with the house to myself.  I really wasn't sure quite what to do, so calmed myself with a glass of wine and a movie.  I had only one activity Sunday afternoon, prior to Peter's arrival, and before I knew it, he was home.

We then had a whole night at home alone.  Wow.  It was so odd to hear thumps in the night and wonder if you shouldn't investigate, since no one else is there knocking books off their bed, or getting water at 3 a.m.  We survived the night alone, he went to work Monday, I went to the Third Culture Kids Panel at AFSA (very informative and I would highly recommend) and then had lunch with a friend from the panel.  Might I add that it is so wonderful when we have opportunities like this to catch up with those we haven't seen in years?

Monday afternoon sped by and soon we headed to West Virginia. Truth be told, we actually stayed in Winchester, VA.  We found a lovely room in the George Washington Hotel ($77/night for a gorgeous room) and had a lovely dinner at a local Italian restaurant, Violino, where we also discovered a 'new to us' wine we now adore.  Winchester is very walkable and quite a unique mix of old businesses and new.  The restaurant selection was particularly wide and we really had a tough time choosing where to dine.

After returning to the hotel, it was so lovely to do nothing more than swim in the Roman Bath style swimming pool or chatting with other visitors in the hot tub.  A good night's sleep and a light breakfast in the hotel restaurant was all it took to have me ready to walk around the town this morning.  

 

I had a chance to visit George Washington's office. He used it until Fort Loudon was complete (from September 1755 - December 1756).

 

 

A lovely little park outside of the office.

Peter could not accompany me as he had a training obligation (yes, the real reason for the trip) and we did not meet up until lunch, which was had at a delightful French restaurant, La Nicoise, on the outskirts of the main walking street in Winchester.  I have to say, we did not mind at all when the owner convinced us that we needed "to have a sweet for dessert."  

Despite the fact that it was a very short trip, the entire weekend was just lovely.  Given that we have so much coming up in the next few weeks and Peter's departure is rapidly approaching, it was heavenly to have a few days completely and totally to ourselves.  So very much appreciated, Salty Dog Crew!

 

Extra, Extra!

My latest article in the Foreign Service Journal.  Please browse through the entire edition;  I have several friends who had their writings published this month and their works are not to be missed.  Congrats to all!

 

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. 

 

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  

 

I pulled the "A" card....

and he hasn't even left the country.  Early, but we needed to use it.  You see, Cait has had a bit of trouble with Algebra.  She is working with a tutor and trying to fit in after school sessions, but it is still not her forte.

Peter and I are not particularly surprised because neither one of us really enjoyed it.  I know my own experience can be described as nothing short of hellish.  I had an Algebra teacher who was far more interested in spending class time discussing her kids and family issues, than, say, Algebra.  She had no use for those of us who needed a bit of extra help and sadly, I couldn't switch classes as it would mess with my other honors classes.  Thus, I was stuck with the first (and last) teacher who ever told me that I had a stupid question.  

Yes.  Not even privately, but in front of the entire class.  Needless to say, she didn't not win any bonus points with me for that.  Before anyone jumps in with, "Well, that's what you get for attending public school," let me assure you that this happened at a small, private, all girls high school. So much for extra attention and nurturing, right?  No guesses as to why I switched to the nearby public high school the next year.  My grades shot up, I was no longer bored and a far more delightful international blend of students nor would a teacher at that school conceive of calling a question "stupid."

So, given that my own history with Algebra was less than stellar, I simply wanted Cait to get through the year.  However, it was clear that even with extra help, she was still struggling a bit.  There is no shame in that, and even less so when we figured out that we already had a solution.  

A friend had mentioned years ago that when a student took a high school class in 8th grade, such as Algebra and the child did not do as well as he or she hoped, the class could be repeated in Freshman year of high school.  There is no need for summer school, and no worries about the GPA.  The 8th grade score is expunged and the child starts with a clean slate.  Our only difficulty:  reaching the teacher to confirm this information.

Teachers like email these days and so do we.  It is quicker, easier, and gives a written record.  However, we were having trouble getting information back from the teacher on specific issues.  Peter finally went a slightly different route, cc:ed the counselor (as we needed her input on the matter) and voila, an answer was had.  Unfortunately, the response indicated it wasn't clear she understood our questions.  I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but decided, especially given that the counselor had been cc:ed that it was time to pull the A-card (you know, Peter's future home country for the next year...).  I knew it was also likely that she didn't realize that we were fine with Cait repeating Algebra, as that had been left out of Peter's message.

I replied all and explained that Cait was being tutored, that we are encouraging after school sessions and that our main concern is planning.  Would she need summer school or could she not just re-take it next year as we had already planned?  I made mention of not wanting to pester anyone, but what with "her father headed 'over there' for a year beginning in May, we just want to get this settled."

We had a most excellent answer in our email inboxes this morning.  Not only did the counselor respond immediately, but said our assumptions were correct and Cait need only retake the course next year.  Her old grade would be expunged, her GPA would remain unaffected and she would have a good base for next year's class.  She then followed that up with a request that Peter "be safe in you-know-where."

Now, I don't know that my mention of his future assignment was the key, but I figured it couldn't hurt.  After all, we weren't asking for the world, just confirmation that we are headed in the right direction.  And are we worried/freaked/embarassed about Cait's Algebra issues this year?

Not in the slightest.  She is incredibly talented in so many ways and Algebra simply isn't her thing.   Why push her to take harder courses when she clearly could just use a bit more help in this subject? Given my own issues with the same course (ironically, Geometry and Algebra II were much easier for me...), I have no desire to push her when it's not necessary.  Call me a lazy mom, but I'm far more concerned with her needs than with my need to brag that she took Calculus at age 10.   And, now it's time to put the A-card away....well, at least for now.

Running low?

Desperate for Do-Si-Dos?  Salivating for Savannah Smiles?  Yearning for just one more box of Thin Mints?

It's your lucky day!  As it turns out, our troop has 44 boxes of cookies leftover from booth sales that need to be sold.  Yes, we can purchase them for ourselves (and will if they don't sell), but thought we would give you one last chance in case you need one more box...if so, you know the routine!  Comment here, send a DM on Facebook and/or send an email to Kelsey or me.  This is the last chance until next year, just in case you want to stock up...did I mention they freeze well?

In a related note, thank you for the thank you gifts!  In addition to the blog mentions and cards, we also are the lucky recipients of three pashminas.  Thank you SO much to our friends in Oman!  Kelsey adores them and I think I will end up borrowing from her instead of the other way around!

NOTE:  We have at least 3 boxes (total) of each type of cookie.  Please let us know how many you desire and we will confirm availability.

 

 

Aww...

Yes, too much texting can be evil, I suppose.  However, sometimes there are text messages that just make one's evening.  While I adore hand-written notes, it's also nice to have conversations like this one handy for days that I need a little pick-me-up and don't happen to have a scrapbook or journal handy.

 

 

 

{this moment} : "Getting the Mail"

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. 

 

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  

 

In a few minutes,

this little nugget will be 10 years old.  At this time 10 years ago, Peter was running downstairs to grab a quick bite to eat, thinking that I would be in labor for a bit longer.  Not a few moments after he arrived at the Friendly's (count on the hospital to have a healthy eatery on site...not!), he received a phone call.  He was told if he wanted to be present at the birth of his second daughter, he might want to skip those clam strips and hot-foot it back upstairs.

About 8 months old...

He did and our little Kelsey D. was born a few minutes later.  Her birth was the eye of the storm for us that year.  So much was happening* in our lives then and it's still amazing to me that we managed to stay remotely sane.  Perhaps it was the sweet wee one with the deep, dark eyes and the massive amount of curly, black hair.  She has accomplished so much in 10 long (but, oh so short!) years and I can't wait to see what the next decade will bring.  

Kelsey enjoying a post-Elevation Burger Mom & Me lunch at school today.

Happy, happy birthday to our sweet, artistic, creative, gentle and loving firecracker of a nugget!  Hope this year is the best yet, Little Buddy, Junior!

 

*Three weeks after Kelsey was born, the coup occurred in Venezuela.  I will leave out my personal opinion (the coup was a good thing), but Peter ended up being called back to the Embassy and we were stuck in the States on Authorized Departure.  We finally were able to return to Caracas at the end of May.  My maternal grandmother died at the end of June, we moved back to the States in August and then Peter started on crazy-insane two year stint on the Secretary's Protective Detail (and, yes, took on a third year).  It was all good, though, and now that things are so much calmer...oh, wait...

 

 

Two months from today

Peter will be winging his way over several continents and oceans towards his new home.  Somehow with all of the other springtime excitment, I forgot he is leaving so very soon.  We have no pack-out date and haven't even touched on thinking about the consumables shipment.  So, just how do I feel about him going away for a year?

Will you hate me if I say "Whatever?"  Not that I won't miss him, but at this point, the sooner he starts, the sooner he finishes.  Oh, and the sooner we can ramp up our savings and take a few sweet trips (maybe overseas?).  Frankly, right now, I'm more concerned about the proper papers being signed and things being handled properly so that we don't miss out on the benefits of this unaccompanied tour.  Other than that?  Well, we are still so darn busy with...

Yes, Girl Scout Cookies!  Between filling overseas orders and working the cookie booth, things have been a little crazy.  Kelsey worked last week in Old Town (on St. Patrick's Day, so very active) and will be working again* this Saturday!  At last count, Kelsey has sold a whopping 837 boxes (not including her portion of booth sales) and we have shipped to at least 25 countries (some more than once).  From here to Estonia, cookies are being enjoyed everywhere...and some folks have even placed follow-up orders and sent sweet thank you cards!

If you are curious, we will most definitely be mailing out cookies again next year.  Kelsey loved shipping out the boxes and even managed to sell to the postal clerks and the bank tellers.  The postal clerks were particularly impressed and glad to see so many boxes going to those fellow FS friends serving overseas.  Thanks so much to everyone who purchased cookies, Kelsey and her fellow troop members truly appreciate it!

*Oh!  You are local and want to buy cookies from Kelsey?  One more in-person sales opportunity will happen this Saturday.  If you might want to stop by her booth, please email or DM me on FB and I will let you know the pertinent details!

Nature Boy

and I headed into the city yesterday for a brief excursion to the National Arboretum.  While he loves his mission in the woods behind our house (our neighborhood backs to a nature center and park), we thought it was time to expand our horizons a bit more.  

 

I had been yearning to get back to the National Arboretum for a long time.  So much open  space and it is absolutely perfect for a BG* to run around, even with 3 light sabers.  The drizzly rain did not deter us (remember, my kids like playing in the rain), so off we headed.  

 

Despite a bit of traffic, we arrived with a good hour to spend.  This was a actually a perfect first trip, as we were really scoping it out for future missions.  We hit the koi pond, the herb garden and the Bonsai gardens.  If you have not seen the Bonsai gardens....amazing.  I fell in love with the red maple and only wished we could wisk it home with us! 

 

While we were perusing the offerings in the Tropical Conservatory,  Nick saw a small statue in the garden area of one tree, a man kneeling, as though in thought or prayer. He took one look at it and said, "But, where's Baby Jesus?" To be fair, the little statue did resemble Joseph a bit.  You can always count on the Big Guy for the most interesting comments (oh, yes, he is the Big Guy now, since he turned 4!  Woe to the person who calls him LG...).

 

Perhaps the best part was the herb garden.  Oh, to have an herb garden twice the size of our house.  I was proud of our little bit of rosemary until I saw the patch there.  Nick was thrilled and about to taste it when I had to remind him it wasn't for us.  

"But I eat it off the bush at home!"  Yes, you do, and I love that, but not so sure the Arboretum staff wants folks picking at the herbs.

 

Due to the drizzle, it was a very quiet day, however, this meant not many other folks around, so very quiet and lots of open space to run in.  We had a short but sweet visit and are already planning a return trip, this time with Kelsey.  We've got to get our fun time in DC in while we can, right? 

A trip like this is also a good reminder of why we live in this area and why we travel so much.   I want my kids to soak in and learn as much about their own country as they do others.  I love that Nicholas gets so excited to see the Washington Monument (and that he sees it so often).  I love that  walking past the White House is something we can do any time we want.  More importantly, one lazy afternoon, we can just decide to go to the National Arboretum without worrying about hotels or airline tickets.  We are close to the city, the bay, the beach and the mountains.  Pretty cool, if I do say so myself.... 

 

*Big Guy

{this moment}:

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. 

 

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  

 

Missions

are very big with us right now.  They involve traipsing through the woods with at least one light saber, a tool belt and several 'tools' (of the made-up variety).  Monday was early day for Kelsey, so we decided it was the perfect time for a good, long mission with Kelsey, her friend and Nick.

We set off with Nick shouting "Let's do it (play Clone Wars) when we get to the energy shield!" 

 The energy shield is a large cement block just over the bridge, near the creek.  We threw rocks, washed our hands and then Kelsey's friend wanted to take us to her mission area (who knew missions were so popular these days?).  Her mission was far more complex and in addition to throwing rocks, required some digging in the very clay-like mud, taking off our boots, stomping through the creek and... 

 

you guessed it:  falling over and getting 100% sopping wet.  If you can't tell, it was a most excellent day for Han and crew (though I was relegated to being Princess Leia's mom, as Kelsey had to be Leia).  Nothing like two hours trouncing through the woods and a creek to remind one that the ingredients for a great afternoon need include nothing more than rocks, mud, water and the occasional light saber. 

The light saber must never be out of reach...

 

There is nothing like meeting

a Foreign Service internet friend in real life. You might have known this person for years thanks to the blogs, email and Facebook, but never actually shared a meal or sipped green tea with her.  Thanks to a happy collision of events, I was finally able to meet my DS bloggy friend, Donna, last week . Might I say that she is everything she appears to be and more?

Three hours just flew by as Donna and I chatted about everything from blogs to future posts.  She is just as forthright and brilliant in person as she is online and I couldn't believe it when 1:15 p.m. suddenly turned into 4:30 p.m.  It was, without a doubt, a most fun afternoon and I only hope we have the chance to meet up again soon before too much time passes. 

Despite my reticence about staying back another year, had we not, I would have missed out on so many chances to meet with FS friends in person.  I sometimes forget about that aspect of living in this area, and awesome lunches with new old friends remind me that I need to remember that more often....

The Top 10

reasons I started a new blog just for Nick-isms:

10.  Good grief, I have so much free time, why not?

9.  He's so darn cute?

8.  He was begging for his own blog or Facebook *

7.  When he goes on his first job interview, I want to be right behind him with a record of everything intelligent** he ever said.

6.  I have 1.8 billion scraps of paper and 12 journals with random notes of things the girls said...and I might have them organized by the time I have great-grandchildren.

5.  There are 24 hours in the day and I've only jam-packed 23.5.

4.  I mentioned he says the cutest, sweetest, most interesting*** things?

3.  I'll have proof that he called me "Princess" 12 times a day, 365 days a year until....

2.  I know it's only a matter of time before the top two things out of his mouth are "MOOOOOMMMM!" and "Whatevs" (not that I am quoting his eldest sibling...never)

1.  Every day I look at him and realize that sweet little guy is growing so very quickly and  I wish I could grab every moment and hold it tight forever.  Since that is somewhat impossible, I'll try this method.  At least this way I will always have those words (and maybe a photo or two) and you can enjoy, too. 

*Kidding!

**If you know me, you know I'm really, really, really kidding...

***I know, I know, all children say the cutest, sweetest, most interesting things

{this moment}: Smile!

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. 

 

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  That dimple....

 

We serve, too.

It has been almost 14 years since Peter became a special agent with the State Department.  We have moved as a family 5 times in those 14 years.  We have uprooted our kids, our pets, shipped our household goods and car around the world and sacrificed beyond what we expected in order to serve our country.

Now, however, we are being told that our service doesn't matter.  We don't count.  United has instituted a new pet travel scheme that could cost those of us moving pets thousands of dollars more.  This is in addition to any other fees we pay to move our pets, to include quarantine fees (which ran us about $2K when Bailey PCS-ed* to Iceland).  Taking our pets with us keeps our families intact, helps our kids adjust and allows us a bit of normalcy.  Now, the already exorbitant cost is going to skyrocket.

There seems to be an idea that every time we move, we somehow have no expenses.  Quite honestly, that could not be further from the truth.  While our goods our shipped for us and we do receive some allowances, nothing covers our costs completely. We understand that and absorb those costs.  We do this for the job, just like we take our kids out of schools they like and move them from areas they love.  We do it to serve our country.

Now we are being told that's not enough.

When members of the military found out about the new pet scheme, they banded together and petitioned United (rightfully) to exempt them from this new, far more expensive plan.  United back down and made an exemption for the military.  Foreign Affairs community members then started their own campaign, thinking perhaps that United just didn't realize that we serve, too.

• We staff embassies and consulates world-wide, without question. 
• We send our loved ones overseas for unaccompanied tours to some of the most dangerous places in the world.  
• We hear stories from those unaccompanied tours that make us cringe (at best) and cry (at worst) at what has been seen.  
• We, as family members, are not necessarily safe from harm's way whether we are doing the single-parenting gig in the States or managing a household overseas.
• We are not immune from family tragedies at home, yet often have to deal with them from thousands of miles away.  The financial implications can be staggering.
• We uproot, willingly, at a moment's notice, if need be.  
• We evacuate without question, make do with what we have, and make it work in the end, often with limited resources.
• Our salaries drop when we move overseas and have been frozen for the past two years.
• Our motto is "it depends" and we are okay with that.

What is not okay?  The fact that United refuses to recognize that we, too, serve.  

Do you believe we serve?  

If you do, then I ask that you help us serve.  Please contact United Airlines and let them know that the U.S. Foreign SERVICE does indeed serve its country.  As of right now, they do not appear to believe that our sacrifices are worthy of allowing us to be exempt from this exorbitant new cost.  We, too, deserve the respect that is being allotted the military.  

A letter has been written and is being circulated around the Foreign Affairs community. There is a massive email campaign that can always use more help.  Please take five minutes (or fewer) to send the following note (you can click through directly to the letter)  to United Airlines, preferably by 5 p.m. today. You may also send a note to any or all of the emails listed below the sample letter.  Additionally, if you can cc: member@afsa.org, so that AFSA may take an accurate count of those writing in.

If you believe we serve, help us tell United.  Let's make a change for the better;  our FS families and their pets are counting on it.

 

*Permanent Change of Station

 

 

 

 

You'd never know

the Nugget had surgery last Thursday.  She couldn't even open her eyes Saturday morning, but by the evening was walking around the house again (with sunglasses on).  By Sunday afternoon, she decided to drop the sunglasses and provided we kept the drapes closed, she had no problem with the natural light.

 

Too cool for school...

Monday was still a bit soon for school, but we decided to test the great outdoors with a field trip.  She wore her sunglasses most of the time, until we stopped at the coffee shop.  Within minutes she took them off and seemed completely comfortable despite the bright interior.

 

The healing power of the young is amazing...

I worried a bit about her return to school, however, she woke up Tuesday morning with far less swelling and the red in her eyes was finally dissipating.  She went off to school with only her regular glasses and had no issues whatsover.

 

Oh, yes, she wore the boots!

Wednesday was the big day:  the post-op appointment.  I picked Kelsey up from school and expected a long wait at the opthalmologist's Virginia office.  We were pleasantly surprised to see his assistant and then the doctor himself, within minutes of our arrival.  Kelsey was her usual calm self and passed every test with flying colors.  Even better:  no new prescription!

 

Celebratory spring rolls and fruit tea at one of our favorite Thai restaurants.

Her eyes are healing incredibly well, her vision is great (well, generally speaking) and we will see what happens in three months during her return visit.   We (of course) had to celebrate our good fortune with spring rolls (doesn't everyone?).    All in all, not a bad recovery.  Slightly painful, but very quick and nothing but good results from the surgery thus far.  Now that we are finished with her eyes (for the moment), we get to move on to orthodontia....good times!

 

 

 

Confessions...

I haven't been running (in the aerobic, for exercise sense) since last Monday.  I had every intention of going Wednesday, but it was pouring rain, and I'm just not yet up for running in the rain, especially given how sore I was from Monday's workout.  

If I can't get the run completed in the morning, it generally just doesn't happen.  Thursday was Kelsey's big day, and Friday - Saturday were all about recovery.  I didn't think about just how intense it would be. Her eyes were so incredibly sensitive, that she could not even open them for any length of time until Saturday morning.  Even then, she had to wear sunglasses in the house (yes, with the lights off).  Just the light coming in the windows was enough to be extremely bothersome.  

By Saturday afternoon, she was finally able to go to the bathroom by herself and get up and move around.  This was a welcome relief for all of us, as it's very hard for someone who is used to being indenpendent to suddenly not even feel like they can safely get to the bathroom a few steps away.  I'll be kind and spare you the tales of the twice daily ointment in the eye treatment (it's going...just painful for all involved), but the end result is that she is healing.  Her eyes are still red and swollen, but improving each day.

Yesterday afternoon, she was able to remove the glasses for a few hours.  She had a friend over and they played inside, since it was still too bright outside.  They watched  a movie and played for hours. Meanwhile, I decided it was time to take her bed and room apart, so we could reorganize.  This would be the reason I am not running today.  

I used muscles yesterday that I haven't used in two months. I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking, but my back has not yet forgiven me for the hours I spent cleaning, purging and dismantling furniture. Nicholas was of course excited by the whole event and tried to help by making tools out of his Legos and 'using' them to take Kelsey's old bed apart.  Oh, how I wish it was that easy!

I prevailed though, and now all I have to do is put this:

 

 

together.  Thank goodness Kelsey is still happily sleeping on the couch at night, as I just don't know if this is a one afternoon project, even with my 'struction guy helper.

My other confession?  Thus far, my Lenten project progress is not stellar.  I am not admitting defeat, I have made some headway, but it is far from perfect.  The issue is that I need downtime at night and I enjoy that.  I don't enjoy being tired in the morning, but the time alone makes up for that.  And, no, I cannot just get up early to have time alone, as I'd have to wake up at 4 a.m. to do so.  Not gonna happen.

My best night thus far was the day after surgery.  Nick wanted to sleep downstairs with us and he and I snuggled up in the recliner while Kelsey dozed on the couch.  Within minutes, we were all asleep and I daresay I got 10 hours of sleep (at least, if not more) in a row that night.  I woke up refreshed Saturday morning and hoped to do it again Saturday night.  I didn't get to bed quite so early, but still earlier...last night?  A no-go.  Sunday nights are hard with Cait's CCD class and since the kids slept late yesterday, made bedtime even harder.  

So, I'm far from perfect, but I'm not giving up.  That one really good night of sleep reminded me that it might be worth it to hit the sack a bit earlier.  I know it won't be 9 p.m. every night, but even 2 hours earlier would be an obvious help.  I'm not going to stress about it being too much earlier than that, as I really do need my *me* time.  If I don't have that, no amount of sleep will make me feel any better.  If nothing else, at least I've learned that lesson.

 

Wow...

I'm zonked.  Thursday just took it all out of me.  I completely forgot how waiting and pacing, sitting, pacing some more, checking the monitor for updates and waiting, waiting, waiting can just utterly empty one's energy reserves.

It was finally the big day:  the bilateral inferior oblique anterior transposition for strabismus for Kelsey. Yes, bilateral did mean on both sides as we thought after seeing the paperwork.  The surgeon decided that after a second review of the CT scan (prior to the pre-op appointment).  We were actually a bit nervous about whether or not the surgery would take place, as it took so long to get the appointment time. The hospital waits until the night before to call you with a surgical time slot, which makes it a wee bit hard to plan one's day.  Luckily, we have a friendly neighbor who was more than happy to pick up Nick and, well, Cait can take care of getting home and getting inside just fine.

We had quite the drive into Children's, but finally arrived at 10:12 a.m.  We were supposed to be there at 10:00 a.m.  but between traffic and the parking situation we arrived a few minutes late.   As I suspected, this did not matter in the slightest, as we didn't even register Kelsey for surgery until 11 a.m. and then were not called to preop until nearly 11:30 a.m. 

The i.d. accoutrement

During all of this, I have to admit, I was a bit nervous.  Getting our hospital bands, signing all of the paperwork and just waiting in a crowded waiting room with other nervous/pacing/crying parents can do it to you.  Finally, Kelsey was called back and we started her prep work.  

Hanging out in the lovely gown and socks...

We went over allergies and the like, once if not 100 times.  She was measured in every respect and asked 5 times by 5 different people if she had been sick recently.  After she changed, she was offered crayons, a coloring book, cartoons to watch and had a visit with a Child Life specialist. 

Not only does the Child Life specialist come in and sit down to talk with your child, but assists them in decorating the oxygen mask and allowing them to opt for scented "sleepy air."  Kelsey was all over that and promptly chose bubble gum after covering her mask in brightly colored stickers (no, she did not get to keep as a souvenir).  I think the person must have expected a nervous little girl, but Kelsey just chatted with her quietly and then went back to her coloring and relaxing once the coordinator left.  I wondered how she could be so calm and collected (especially with the wailing down the hall), but nothing fazed her.

Decorating her mask with the massive sticker collection.

 

I then thought back to a discussion a few weeks before.  We were sitting and talking and Kelsey asked about my surgery, particularly the length. I mentioned that it had been about 8 hours.  

"Oh," she responded, "I thought it was only supposed to be 6!"

I told her sometimes it simply takes longer and she looked at me and said, "You know, I still feel so bad that you had to go through that."

Not that I hadn't received sympathy and love from my kids, but I didn't quite expect that thought.   I thanked her and mentally filed it away as one of the sweetest things one of my kids could say to me (right up there with "You are my princess!").  A week later she went to her follow-up eye appointment and at that time said she was no longer nervous about her surgery.  She had been in the beginning, but now figured she would have it done and all would be fine.  Did our discussion have anything to do with her new attitude?  I'd like to think so, but who knows.

 

Relaxed much?

I flashed back to the present and spent the next hour watching her.  She was as cool as a cucumber,  despite the many nurses and doctors who were in and out of the room and peppering her with questions.  She would answer them, go back to her relaxing and at the appropriate time (only 1.5 hours late, but...) hopped out of the recliner and walked off to the OR with the nurses.  So different from our last experience at Children's but probably easier in the long run.  We were then escorted to the waiting room and realized we'd best make use of our time and have lunch.

The view was good. The food, er, not so much.

I'm not going to say much about the hospital cafeteria, except to remark that the views were stunning.  The food?  Well, let's just say a Jamie Oliver revolution would be welcome there.  Pete said once (if not several times) that he was stunned by the lack of healthy options. There was a smoothie bar, but not much else.  I suppose I shouldn't be shocked, but would be so nice to see more fresh fruits and veggies especially when this is the only option for some people.

 

I was this tired, too, but just couldn't nod off.

We knew that the surgery would not last terribly long and headed back to the waiting room after we ate.  One of us was able to nap a little while the other paced, checked the monitor and played Words With Friends.  The internet was iffy, but I was able to do Facebook updates, a nice distraction.

After about 1.5 hours and the 15th check of the board, I noticed her case number said that the surgery was complete. I woke Peter up and 5 minutes later we were summoned by the surgeon.  He and the surgeon assisting went through the procedure and said several times how well things had gone.  We went back to the waiting area and 10 minutes later headed to recovery to see Kelsey. 

Poor tired Nugget in a wee bit of pain.

Ah, the poor thing.  She was still sound asleep when we got there, but we could see her eyes, teary and swollen and know she'd soon be in a bit of pain.  She was extubated, but still hooked up to the IV and monitors and had a ventilation device in her mouth to keep her respiration rate up.  Not 10 minutes later she woke up, startled by the device in her mouth.  After a few minutes of coaxing, she finally realized she was to spit it out (not bite down) and she went flat on her back to try to sleep.

 

The ice pack is now her best friend.

Unfortunately, that's when the pain and wailing began.  She couldn't open her eyes, they had a grainy feeling to them (normal) and, of course, the post-surgical pain.  We ended up being in recovery with her for about three hours, as they needed to ensure she was well-hydrated and able to move around.  

 

Yep, she needed sunglasses even while indoors with the lights off.

Her recovery, despite the pain, was quite good.  No nausea, no vomiting and within an hour she requested a popsicle.  She drank two cups of water and juice by the time we left and probably would have had more, but with the ice pack being on her eyes nearly continuously, it was hard to work around.  She was also too tired and kept drifting off, as one tends to do.  

Even more amazing than her calm prior to the surgery, was the statement she made after.  After she woke up and had two shots of morphine (the pain was just too intense), she started to relax.  At that point, she said in a very soft voice, "Well, at least it's all over now."  Maybe it was the morphine talking, but knowing Kelsey, I think it was just her logical attitude.

After meeting with the doctor and getting the sign-off to leave, we carefully dressed her and helped her into the wheelchair.  Thank goodness they have plenty of dark shades and ice packs, otherwise she would have had to be wheeled to the car looking like a ghost.  The lights are just so bright and I think it will be Monday before she's able to appreciate bright light again.

We arrived at home Thursday night around 7:30 p.m. and spent the rest of the night just relaxing with her, napping and making sure her eyes were lubed with an antibiotic (ointment appplication twice a day...fun!) and that she was as pain-free as possible.  

Finally in a very deep sleep yesterday afternoon.

 

Flowers from Tennessee!

Her eyes are still swollen today and she can't yet see the flowers that have been sent her way, but does appreciate them.  Despite yesterday being Read Across America Day, she couldn't do much more than  sleep and listen to movies.  Hopefully, her eyes will be open more today, as I am quite anxious to know how much the surgery has helped her vision.

Oh, and the boots?  

 

She loves them! Thanks, Kate, for the great idea!

She loves them!  See that smile?!  Okay, not really as she has a towel over her closed eyes so not one ray of light gets in, but she hugged me and was really quite excited when she opened them.  Now tomorrow, maybe she'll open her eyes?

 

 

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. 

 

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  

 

Before?

I figured since she is having surgery tomorrow (yes, finally scheduled!  We even have a time:  12 p.m. at Children's in DC.), perhaps we should do a little before and after.  So, here is before:

 

My just about 2.75 year old nugget, Christmas 2004.

 

Oh, wait, I meant before glasses and patching! If her eye seems lazy now, well, you should have seen it when.  The nugget had almost no muscle control in her left eye.  The glasses helped, but she was still frustrated by her inability to have it not drift off.  The patching ...now that really did the trick.  

 

Kelsey holding a wee little Nickerdoodle....

 

Wearing a patch on her right eye, 5 days a week for 9 months increased her eye strength incredibly. However, still not quite where it should be.  See how it still slides a bit up and left?

 

When you ask, "Do you want us to blow good $$ on a costume rental?" note that a grumble does NOT mean yes...well, at least Laura Ingalls Dinoia, I mean, Cait, was happy.

Here is the final before photograph.  Honestly, the difference between her eyes (face, whole kit and caboodle) between infancy and now is just astonishing.  I'm not sure I could be any more surprised by the outcome of tomorrow's (oops, TODAY'S) surgery, but I'll try. (Oh, am I up late?  I'm just a bit nervous about the procedure...but she's not, and that's key.)  It will be very interesting  to see if we also have to get a new prescription (expensive I'm sure, but anything for my nugget, right?).

 

The look means, "Can't we just GO already?" I had promised her a special mom & me dessert out last night..

Speaking of expensive (okay, not that expensive), on the suggestion of a reader/friend/fellow FS spouse, I decided to get Kelsey a little post-surgical treat.  Hopefully, Friday or Saturday, these will arrive in the mail (sssh!):

 

I can't WAIT until she opens them up! 

Bet she has no trouble seeing those, hot pink or not!  Now, off to bed so we can wake up in time for the big day...oh, and don't forget, if anyone asks, she's out of school because she's sick.  Apparently, she even fake coughed a bit at school today...that's my girl!

I'm his Princess

Leia, and he is my Anakin (yes, this might sound odd, but it works in his mind....).

 

 

Tried to snap a picture while he cradled the lightsaber, but then he flipped around. Some kids sleep with teddy bears...

 

A few minutes later, he will become Han or (occasionally) Luke, as his character changes on a moment's notice.  The need for a lightsaber?  That never ends.  The fact that he wants to sleep with his lightsaber or that he normally walks around with two of them hooked into his pants?  Nothing short of charming.

Can I say how much I am loving this age right now?  Does it have to end?  Someone say no....

I may well regret this

 

The Daily Mile stats are the 'real' stats, as the C25K didn't capture the extra time I tacked on.

in the morning, later tonight or maybe even 20 minutes from now.  Yes, I restarted the Couch to 5K today.  I'm either brilliant or completely insane.

If you recall, 7 weeks ago today I was still recovering in the SICU at Fairfax Hospital from stage 1 (the most involved procedure) of my DIEP.  8 hours of intense surgery generally leads to quite a recovery.  I felt, up until yesterday, that I was doing quite well.  I was getting around, walking quite a bit, have been driving and caring for the kids nearly full-time for the past three weeks.  Then maybe I complained a bit too much about pain and someone let me have an earful.

Perhaps, the implication stated, perhaps I was still having pain because I wasn't doing enough. Harumph was my answer to that one.  Given that this person had not been through anything similar, I failed to understand how he/she could have a clue what I was going through.  Then I woke up today and I was still in pain, not constant, but it was there and after I dropped Nicholas off at school, I tried to plan out my day.

Suddenly I realized I could skip the trip to the grocery, as I had everything I needed for dinner.  Perfect, naptime, right?!  Well, I still had to start dinner and by the time I finished, I realized maybe I didn't want a nap, so much as a bit more exercise.  I had walked last night, but the weather is gorgeous today.  Cold, clear, sunny and skies that are so, so blue.  Why not up my Vitamin D levels a bit more with a good long walk?  Maybe the exercise would help shake the remaining pain or at least give me something else to ponder.  Or...

Or, I could try and run.  

Now, I don't mean 3 miles start to finish, I mean more of starting over with the Couch to 5K.  Given that it has been a few months since I have really been running, I thought starting off slowly might be my best bet.  I realized I had plenty of time to check email, perhaps get a quick snooze in and then, yes, give the run a try before picking up Nick.

At 10:55 a.m., I picked myself up out of the recliner, redressed quickly (yes, I had reverted to jammies, as I can only take so much Spanx time and my scar is still sore at times).  My Garmin was charged, I turned on the C25K app, pulled my hair back, slipped on my headphones, put on the ole running shoes and off I went.

I can't lie, I felt tired at first.  Then I looked at my Garmin and realized that not only was my walking time good, it was AS good as it had been prior to surgery.  I knew if the running didn't go well, I could always stop and as long as I was careful, I figured it would be okay.  And?

Oh, MY!  I had forgotten...I had forgotten how amazing it feels to zip around powered by nothing more than your own two feet.  I had forgotten about that moment when I run...the one where all of the sudden my legs seem even longer.  The muscles seem to stretch and relax and my running picks up instead of slowing down.  The beat of the music certainly didn't hurt.  Not only wasn't I in pain, but I was picking up speed on each run.

Now, I know you are thinking, but..."you only ran like 8 minutes!"  Trust me, when you've been out of it this long, 8 minutes could be a lifetime.  In my case, though, it wasn't.  I was actually only supposed to run 6, but upped it because I could.

I returned home gleeful and excited, and stretched before running out again (by car this time) to grab Nick.  It's now three hours later and while I can't say I'm not tired, it's a good tired.  The kind of tired that makes you giddy when you remember why you keep feeling like it's naptime.  The kind of tired that reminds you that sleep will come easily tonight.  Even better?  The kind of tired that will hopefully wear off tomorrow and will have dissippated completely by Wednesday a.m., so that I don't think twice about lacing up my shoes, setting my Garmin and knocking out Week 1, Day 2 of the C25K.  

 

Yesterday was set to be one of those

days.  Friday night I was innocently putting Nicholas to bed, when I realized I needed to get something.  I oh-so-carefully pulled myself into an upright position, but somehow still did it too quickly.  I was rewarded with swift and intense pain in my right side, so much so that it was minutes before I could move.

The problem with doing something like the above is that the pain doesn't just hit and go away.  It comes and goes in large waves, then dissipates to a continuous cramp-like scenario for the rest of the night.  Lovely, eh?  My bad for doing the surgery, I suppose, but given the outcome (ahem, my improved mood and body image), I will just continue to deal with it.  And, no, no reason to talk with a doctor, it's simply part of the very long healing process.  Did I mention there are no sit-ups or crunches in my near future?

I was worried, though, as I had a rather long Girl Scout event Saturday morning.  I had not originally planned on attending.  However,  the troop was participating in Thinking Day and it promised to be an exciting day for the girls.  I decided on a whim to go, figuring Peter could always pick me up if I started to feel poorly and there was always the afternoon for a naptime.  So at the crack of dawn, we loaded ourselves up in the neighbor's car, taking all possible ethnoplunder for our display and headed off.  

It was a day I am so glad I did not miss.

Thinking Day, if you don't know, used to be called International Day.  Each troop that participates picks a country to study and then puts their knowledge (and food samples) on display during the event.  I'll give you one guess what our troop chose:

 

So, what was the big deal?  What is the yummy bubble tea one troop sold?  Perhaps the egg and spring rolls the cadettes were selling for a fundraiser?  Guess again!

Yes, it was the chance my girls had to share their experiences of living overseas.  Every picture on our posterboard came from our time in Iceland.  The photo on the swaps (little pins the girls create & trade) was taken by none other than Mr. Salty Dog during the Salty Dog Icelandic Adventure of 2008.  We sold cups of Skyr (which was gobbled up) and had a plethora of Icelandic books and toys to review.  We actually had children wanting to buy the Icelandic toys, which were fake sheep bones (based on Icelandic toys from years past).  

 

Scooping out the Skyr...

Instead of just reciting what had been learned in an encyclopedia or picked up via Google, the girls in the troop learned from Kelsey and then helped share the knowledge on Saturday.  Those who reviewed our stand had the additional benefit of talking with Cait (who registered as a Girl Scout just for this event), who could write a novel about her three years there.  We didn't just display trinkets we picked up on a trip, but a Buff Kelsey wore to preschool every day, the toys they played with, the books they read, the Icelandic study guides they used (to include from horseback riding) and the medal Kelsey won in the Latibaer Marathon in August 2007.

 

 

Caitlin swears she would have smiled had I told her I was going to post this photo. I beg to differ, but....

It was one of those wonderful days when you realize that all the sacrifices you make to join the Foreign Service, schlep around the world, and move every 2-3 years are completely worth it.  Your children didn't just visit a country, they inhaled it....lived in it and breathed in the experience every day for 3 years (exactly) of their lives.  They have friends and times they will never forget because they stepped out of a huge comfort zone and into a whole new world.  More importantly, 3.5 years after leaving the country, they are still excited to share it with others.

 

While I am sorry we haven't gone back out sooner, there is nothing like such an event to remind you how excited you are with regard to your next move.  More importantly, that even while State-side, you can still share the excitement of living overseas with others.  It's truly a gift, and one I am so glad to have given to my children.

 

 

{this moment}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. One photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. 

 

 

Idea courtesy of Soulemama.  

Giving It Up

Each year, I rack my brain to come up with something to give up for Lent.  This year, the first time I was asked about my sacrifice, I somewhat jokingly replied that I was giving up Peter for a year.  I honestly had not thought about what I might give up, as I was still in the throes of recovery, thinking that Kelsey would be having surgery today and in overall planning mode for Peter's departure in May.

I've thought about all of the standard things I *could* give up, but here's the deal:

• As it is, I rarely wear make-up.  So I could humble myself even more and give it up, but that would be maybe one day a week. I don't really see that as much of a sacrifice and certainly nothing that I might even notice.
• I gave up soda (as in caffeinated beverages made with HFCS) in 2006 for Lent and have rarely had a sip since.  I don't have the desire to drink anything but seltzer now (or maybe an occasional ginger ale), so there goes that idea.
• Sugar and/or chocolate.  Quite honestly, I don't think I eat enough of either to justify that being a reasonable or noticeable loss in my life. I'm the only person I know who can buy a gallon of ice cream, put it in the freezer and forget about it for 6 months.  Also, sometimes I do need a small lift and a tiny piece of good, dark chocolate helps.  It's not a crutch, but I don't want to feel guilty if I truly need something.
• Social Media.  A-ha!  If I really wanted to give up something, I suppose I could try giving up FB, Twitter and the like.  Though honestly, I don't use Twitter constantly (I'm lousy at Tweeting) and FB helps me keep in touch with others.  Not sure whether I would seem like I was sacrificing or just suddenly seem very out of touch.
• Coffee.  Really?  Not gonna happen unless everyone wants a major sacrifice for the next 6 weeks.

Finally, it hit me.  I found something that has been an issue for me for ages and something that I truly need to work on.  It's not just something I cut out of my diet for 6 weeks and then forget about it when Lent is over.  It's an issue I've struggled with for years and have finally realized that I really, really need to get control over this:

I'm giving up being a night owl.

 

Now, this might sound like a most ridiculous thing to some, but for me I see this as being a very big challenge.  While I have had issues with insomnia, there is nothing I enjoy more than staying up late, reading a good book, blogging beyond midnight or just catching up with friends (via Words With Friends, Facebook, what have you).  I'll throw laundry in the washer and use the excuse of needing to put in the dryer as a reason to stay up even later.  Then I end up overtired and not able to sleep when I do finally cozy up in my recliner and tend to be a cranky, tired mess in the morning.

So, for the next six weeks, I will sacrifice my ability to stay up late.  

Call it silly, but I see this as a way to touch on several things that I *could* give up and combine into one:

• Since I won't be staying up later, I will be drinking less coffee
• I tend to go on FB late at night and/or use the time to blog.  I'll have to find a way to do that earlier in the day.  So less time on social media right there, but I won't feel like I'm ignoring anyone or out of touch. 
• I might eat less chocolate, since when I do have a good piece, it tends to be later at night when I am having a cup of coffee (and no, the coffee doesn't keep me from sleeping, that's just me).

The benefits I hope to achieve:

• I'll wake up earlier (naturally) and be less cranky and feel less rushed in the mornings.
• Perhaps will get Nick to school a tiny bit earlier (he's not really late, but he could get there sooner and I'd have a bit more time for errands and exercise).
• Other family members (who will remain unnamed) might try to quell their night owl tendencies and also get more rest, since the house will be quieter.
• My day might be better organized?  Granted, with three kids and a husband departing for a UT soon, there is a lot of upheaval.  However, the more sleep and earlier start to the day might give me extra time in the a.m. to think my day through.  Even a few extra minutes would help.
• Perhaps this will help me get over my insomnia issues.  Since I do get tired early in the evening (but I just push through until I get a second wind), this exercise might help me get over resisting that exhaustion and just recognize that I am not doing anyone any good (most of all myself) by staying up later.

Technically, I am starting a day late.  I had a fabulous Girls Night In to attend last night and therefore, exempted myself from starting this until tonight. No way was I going to miss the night out and to say that the evening gave me a huge lift is the understatement of the century.  Good friends, yummy Thai food, wine, chocolate, and fun.  Who could ask for more? 

Since today's surgery was canceled, we have no meetings or activities, and nothing but dinner together tonight, I have nothing to prevent me from trying to get to bed at a decent hour.  Now my only quandary is figuring out exactly when to sleep.  I have a time in mind and will give that a go at first to see if that is enough sleep for me.  

Maybe this will be one of the most ridiculous ideas I've ever had.  On the other hand, it's only for 6 weeks and if it works, it could be life-changing in many good ways.  I'm thinking that daily updates will be difficult, but I am going to try to keep tabs on improvements (more sleep, less crankiness) on a weekly basis.  It might not seem like a sacrifice to some, but if you know me, this might be one of the hardest things I've tried as of late.  Wish me luck?

 

I'd be more shocked

that Kelsey's eye surgery for Thursday has been canceled, but let's just call it par for the course, at least for our family.  I am so used to mishaps on the part of anyone and everyone having anything to do with our medical care (to include payments for such care), that I am now surprised when things go the way they should.  Oh, the eye surgery?

Yes, not so much, at least not this week.  Well, I guess it could be Friday, but no one will call us back. Apparently, it was not realized until today that Kelsey could not have her eye surgery in Virginia, as our insurance won't cover it.  Nope, they won't cover us doing an outpatient procedure at the office minutes from our house.  What will they cover?  Apparently, shlepping downtown to Michigan Avenue to the main hospital.  So forget all of our careful planning and coughing ahead of time, we now are waiting to hear when the surgery will be performed.

Kelsey is annoyed as she was hoping to have two days off this week.  Peter is perturbed as once he sets his schedule, he generally needs to keep it as is.  I'm a tad bothered as now I have to figure out all new arrangements for Nick for surgery day, but don't have any dates to plan around.  On the other hand, I suppose at least they let us know before the surgery took place.  I don't want to think about how livid I would be had they waited until the day of surgery or worse, after it was all said and done and a huge (and not covered) bill awaited us.

Now, it would be in keeping with our other insurance/medical billing mishaps, but the mistake would likely have eaten up our entire FSAFEDs account. By some miracle, we have only used $50 thus far this year (Seriously, pinch me, I'm dreaming!).  If you remember, last year we hit our cap by mid-August.  So much for refiling those dental claims.  

This doesn't mean we won't use all of our money (we darn well better), but I'd like it to be a bit more spread out this year.  I had a brief upset when the first claims coming from my plastic surgeon were in the $34K range (no deductible, just a $6K co-insurance).  Then I calmed down, as I noticed that neither the insurance company nor the hospitals or doctors could seem to get anything right billing wise.  One minute a claim is being paid, the next minute it's rejected.  Well, I'm still a teeny bit nervous, but trying not to show it.

Claims are still bouncing back and forth, insurance isn't paying half of what the hospital requested (special rates and all) and no one seems to care.  Peter even called the anesthesia people (who tried to stress me out with a $5K bill) and they said to ignore it for now.  The insurance rejected it, of course (cause it's fun to be awake for an 8 hour procedure?), but okayed my post-surgical anesthesiologist visits (to check how much morphine I wasn't using...not even half of what was recommended, thank you very much).

In fact, one hospital, that will remain unnamed, isn't even billing the insurance for the corrrect person for a procedure from last April.  They have refiled the same claim THREE TIMES.  Each time it is rejected for "the correct diagnosis for sex" (which just makes me giggle) and Peter has to call them and explain that if they continue to put claims for my treatment in his name, they will never get paid.  They promise they will fix it, then they ignore said advice, and 6 weeks later, we get another explanation of benefits that has been rejected because they didn't listen to us.  It's like a little game now.  In fact, I'm not really sure anything since 2010 has been completely resolved, but you know what?

I just don't care anymore.  At this point, as long as we are not receiving random bills for $3,095 or $17K (or so) in the mail, I just don't care.  I am so over this whole mess and wondering if maybe I shouldn't consider being some sort of insurance specialist in my next career.  Just as long as I am the person that gets to put the notation about the diagnosis for sex....

 

 

 

 

 

Pinch me!

 

Celebrating at his Montessori...

As it absolutely cannot be 4 years ago, nearly to the minute (as I typed this post), that the Little Guy arrived in this world.  Mind you, according to him, it's his birthday every time he celebrates.  Therefore, Friday was his birthday (party at school), today was another birthday (a fete courtesy of the Salty Dogs) and tomorrow we will celebrate again with a trip out of town.

 

Can you guess the theme of the party at Chez Salty Dog?

Since all 3 kids and Peter have the day off, we decided we will spend the day in Baltimore.  We'll see as much in the Maryland Science Center as we can and enjoy an early birthday dinner in Little Italy.  We thought about the aquarium, but as Kelsey put it so succinctly, "Nick needs a place where he can run around.  At the aquarium, you just look at things, while at the science center, you can DO things."

 

A creation by Cait for the Little Guy.

We all know Nick never slows down.  Well, he does have moments of calm, but they are surrounded by hours of action and to say this makes him a bit different from his sisters would be an understatement.

 

 

One of the few pensive moments at the party...

It is a welcome difference, though.  From his blond hair and blue eyes to his need for so much activity, it has been a wonder watching him grow, interact with his sisters and enjoy life the way that he does.  And while I am a bit sad that it seems he is changing so quickly, it is so amazing to witness and I really can't wait to see what the next year brings.

 

A plasma car makes an awesome birthday gift, especially when in Spiderman colors!

Happy 4th Birthday, Little Guy!  We love you!