Deep Thought

Note to self:

The philosophical questions of life don't seem so burdensome when you just live--work--play--act--do things. . .

Okay, maybe that was a shallow thought.

Prayer Request for 8/26

Please offer a little prayer for my mom, who is having surgery for a gall bladder polyp today in New Orleans, where medical care is not exactly stellar these days. Thanks!

Let's Say a Prayer

For families.

For families that are having difficulties, especially those with little children involved.
For families in which one or more members have dangerous or stressful health issues.

And in thanksgiving, if our families are healthy and strong.

My Top Thoughts after Finishing the Ph.D.

• Okay, so I have a Ph.D. I'm supposed to know stuff. . .
• So when was I supposed to learn all of the stuff that I am supposed to know?
• There's a point in any academic career when one has forgotten more than one actually knows at the moment. Is it too early to say I'm there?
  
• Oh cr*p! I have to get a job now!
• Wait, you mean there's a(n intellectual) world outside of this dissertation?
• Maybe I could sit in on a few graduate courses & get up to speed. No wait. . .
• You mean other people read books without someone telling them to??
• Note to self: Come up with new excuse for being a crummy teacher. . .
• Dr. who are they talking about? Oh, that's me!
  
• Now what?
  
• The rest of the thoughts have to do with student loans (language not appropriate to this blog. . .)
  

What to Blog?

Okay, I'm having a blogging lapse. The world isn't presenting itself in bloggable chunks. And I've started worrying about my audience and my blogging persona. I feel like the persona I present is so fragmented that I just don't seem like one person, and I'm not sure that the part of me I'm representing at any given time is really worth representing. I mean, why am I so darned grumpy all of the time? It's not hormones any more. Those are feeling better than they have in years. When I have any "IDEAS," they are fleeting and usually occur in the car or bathtub and by the time I'm by the computer they just don't seem worth the effort to write down. I could blog about the job search, but who really cares about those anxieties? I don't even care much about them. They just surface and are replaced by more immediate concerns. And when I try to write critical observations about how I fit (or don't) in my discipline, I get in trouble for it, and really, tongue-in-cheek and hyperbole don't play well in blogs, and I really like tongue-in-cheek and hyperbole. I've got a family blog where I could write about family stuff, only I don't because it takes a huge time commitment to upload photos. I have a book blog where I'm supposed to be writing about things I'm reading, only I'm not reading much. I've missed the last two Saturdays of research in the sci fi archives because of toddler illness and a graduation celebration, and all of the Saturdays' worth of research I haven't blogged about is stale and it's hard to muster up the energy to blog about them. Classes have ended for now, so that's out. Spiritual stuff occurs to me sometimes, but I'm in such a serious dry spell that it's difficult to get really excited about anything theological right now. I feel like such a bad Catholic. A LOSER Convert. So when I think, "Oh, I'll post about the homily," I just feel like a phony. More often, however, I think about posting things about our new associate pastor, who seems to have some mental block against all things Trinitarian. 'Cause if there's anything to be said or done in threes, he messes it up. Case in point: "Through Him, With Him." The next Mass?: "Through Him, In Him." Also, "Christ have Mercy. Lord Have Mercy." Looooooooong pause. About the time he remembers that something is missing, the choir starts in. Nice guy, but with serious stage fright, it seems. Is that really something I should be blogging about? Probably not. I could blog about NFP, but I don't wanna. There's some family stuff going on--extended family stuff that's really uncomfortable & messy to deal with, but why would I want to subject everyone else to that? I'm uncomfortable as it is about giving everyone the impression that I'm, well, as crotchety as I probably am. So I remain quiet. Or post about what not to post.

Chiclette's New Fairy Dress

Petal dress - front, originally uploaded by literacy_chic.

I've been working for a couple of weeks on this dress that Chiclette wore to the graduation. It's another Ottobre design--this one a bit more detailed, perhaps, than anything else I've made, including the chicken dress! Or perhaps it seemed so because I had to fray-check and then hem ALL of those petals! PLUS I did 9 for a dress for Doodle--same fabric for the petals, different coordinating fabric for the dress.

I graduated!

Pics on the family blog.

Things went well. I was a little stressed with Doodle up on the front row of a balcony with a rather low railing, but all went well. Very well. She went to the bathroom no fewer than 3 times! She watched some episodes of Doug--now available on iTunes!--on Brother's iPod. Chiclette fell asleep. And I found myself less stressed after I crossed the stage. Coincidence?

Rest of the Week Follow-up

Thanks everyone! Things have been better the past day or two, though Doodle is still very cranky and not really eating. Before things are completely back to normal, I get to start stressing about graduation. Have I explained that I feel very inadequate in social occasions? Any time I think about large gatherings of people--whether they are people I know or not--I get to feeling very anxious and all of my worst anti-social tendencies reveal themselves. That, and little things start to get to me, like the doctoral robe's sleeves being different lengths, or the fact that "unisex" means "not for full busts"!!

So anyway, graduation is tomorrow morning, and I'm all wound up. I finally decided that Doodle will be there--I debated for a while, knowing that she really won't enjoy herself. But I couldn't bear the thought of having Phelan there, and Isabelle, and not Helena. Besides feeling like I am not representing my family accurately by having only 2 of my 3 children there, it seems to imply something about her--that she was not good enough to be there. If I was leaving both babies with someone, it might feel different. After all, my son IS the only one with the patience for this kind of thing, and the only one who begins to understand the significance of a graduation. I decided that I didn't want to try to explain in 5 or 6 years, "Well, Brother was at Momma's graduation, and so was Chiclette, but not you." What child is going to understand that one? So anyway, she will be going. To a 2-hour graduation ceremony. With many, many things to entertain her. And there are still times when keeping her in a 1-hour Mass is challenging (notice I didn't say keeping her still--that would be one of the minor miracles). :) I love my Doodle, but she is not a sedate child. I rely on the presence of aunts and an uncle to keep her well-behaved!

After graduation? I get to pull together Summer II grades by Monday. We have a little breakfast/brunch planned for Saturday. THAT will be the highlight of my weekend! (Not so intimidating, you know?)

My Four Copays --Caution: The squeamish should proceed with care

Let me tell you about my weekend. . . and the beginning of my week.

On Friday, things were good. I didn't particularly feel like cooking; having just gotten to the end of a month of scraping by, I wanted a little splurge (even though my husband rationally--and uncharacteristically for either of us!--argued that if we didn't splurge, we could have a bigger splurge for the after-graduation mini-celebration), and decided to go get some drive-through, notch-above-fast-food-Mexican for dinner. I took Doodle with me to give my husband some (relative) peace! So we came home and Doodle went through her latest coming-home ritual--she ran to the stepping-stones between the two apartment buildings and started following the path. Just as I was reminding her not to run, she flew through the air and landed with her knee on the very edge of the stone. I scooped her up, bleeding, and ran into the house to wash it & apply pressure. Well, the gash was deep, so I called the insurance nurse line. Their standard reply seems to be "go to the emergency room" (it's their "limitation of liability" line--not nurse line!) and so we were advised, because the wound was opening when she bent her knee, and also to check out the kneecap, to go to the hospital. We were seen rather quickly, which was good since the waiting room was full of people throwing up. I was concerned that Doodle would be a bit freaked out by the spectacle, but she was fine. In fact, she was the Belle of the ER. She got grape juice, 3 sheets of stickers, some Motrin for the soreness, and the most expensive bandaid I've ever purchased in my life, and we returned home for a peaceful night (and our dinner). Well, sort of. . .

When Doodle was checked into the ER, her temperature was 99.5, which by today's standards, counts as normal, though when I was growing up we called that a low-grade fever. Nothing to worry about, right? Remember, she had had Motrin. Well, she woke up at about 4:00 Saturday morning with much higher fever. It got as high as 102 that night; the next day, when it went up a degree to 103 after she had had Ibuprofin, I decided to take her to the "today clinic" instead of chancing another pricey (and unnecessary) ER visit if the medicine wouldn't bring down the fever. Of course it did. By the time we had her checked in to the "today clinic," her temperature was normal. But it was still good to have her checked. Her ears were normal; her throat was a little red. She had a badly executed strep test that came back negative. (She had been complaining about her throat.) Nothing conclusive. So we went home. Well, throughout the weekend, the fever continued to spike from 101-102 when the medicine wore off. She woke up burning hot & shaky each night. Monday, I called her doctor's office and spoke to the nurse, who said that they usually say that after fever has continued for 3 days, they want to see the child. She offered to get her in that afternoon, but I waited until Tuesday anyway. I missed my last class because the babies were sleeping and I was not going to wake a feverish child to leave. My husband picked up their response papers.

All of this time, she had been in a relatively good mood--for a sick child. In fact, she was incredibly sweet. Sunday night, she started with some nasal congestion, and the mood shifted. She is much more irritable. So after another feverish night Monday night, we took her in to her appointment. It seems that hers was the 4th or 5th case of exactly these symptoms--with the congestion at the end of the 3 or 4 days--that he had seen. (I love this doctor, btw. I can't imagine a better pediatrician.) So we figure, the worst is probably over. We hope. I asked him about an ongoing problem we have been having with Doodle that is making potty-training absolute HELL. All throughout June she would have off-and-on diarrhea-like symptoms. It was awful. It would start at the beginning of the week, and by the end, after much yogurt, she was fine. And this had started happening in conjunction with the virus. The doctor explained that he calls this kind of thing "toddler diarrhea," or "slick gut" or "Schlitterban gut" (after the water park). What happens is that from eating certain kinds of fruits and drinking certain fruit juices, the acids burn away the tendrils of the vilii in the intestines. This causes a problem with absorption of nutrients and leads to the rapid passage of all of the food from the body. The remedy is a high-fat diet, milk fat in particular. Mandarin oranges are the worst for causing this, and they are her favorite fruit, and have been since she was a very young toddler. Needless to say, it was a relief to know how to prevent and cure this condition!! So we went home, anticipating a peaceful afternoon. . .

Well, let me start by saying that at 9 months, my Chiclette is further along in her mobility than either of the other children have been. She not only crawls and sits, she stands, shuffles, and climbs (onto our wooden futon-sofa). She also falls. A lot. She has hit herself more times on that wooden futon than Doodle EVER did. Usually she cries a little & gets up again with no problem. You know where this is going, right? So yesterday afternoon, she took one of her now-famous spills and hit her mouth on the futon, causing her two little bottom teeth (presumably) to cut a nice slit in the very tip of her little tongue. And as with any mouth injury, there was blood everywhere. I scooped her up, found a washcloth, cold water, and ice, and started reviewing my options. ER? Not if I can help it. Call my husband? Not without a plan of action. Call my mom? Not this time. Call my friend with 3 kids, who might have a suggestion? Call my sister to come help me take the kids? No, she can't drive & I would lose time picking her up. All of this in the first 1:35 minutes after it happened. So I called the pediatrician's office. Having gotten past the reception desk with careful phrasing ("It's not an emergency, but I have a quick question about a mouth injury. Can I have a direct line to the nurse?"), I learned that both doctors' nurses were busy (the ones we see, anyway), and then, considering further, I decided to make an appointment, only to find out that they were booked, so effectively, the only way to get in was to speak to a nurse. So I left a message for them to call and made plans to head to that "today clinic" again. . . (Keep in mind that we had been to see the pediatrician with Doodle that morning!!) I had my son call my husband to meet us (his boss gave him a ride, as I have our vehicle), grabbed ice and a couple of washcloths (one fell on the ground and had to be thrown back into the house as we left), gave my son a pep talk about staying cool in emergency situations and doing what needs to be done (I operate well on adrenaline) as he struggled with nausea and prepared to be the one in the back to administer the icy washcloth in the baby mouth. Doodle was very concerned. While I was on the phone, she kept saying, "Baby B--- a hurt you! A hurt you?" She brought Chiclette the baby dress I was making to try to make her happy. Doodle was crying in the car to see the blood. So I had Doodle start singing "Frere Jacques"--in French and English--to calm the Chiclette. So we arrived; my husband arrived, and Chiclette and I were shown to the room fairly soon for a walk-in clinic, while Brother, Sister, and Daddy waited in the waiting room. For a long time. While phonecalls were made and I waited with only a few bits of gauze (and then ice that I commandeered from a housekeeping person, and some wax cups that are in the room, a sink, some papertowels, and eventually a washcloth, when it was time to leave) trying to stem the still-bleeding tongue. She wanted to nurse--that was a mess. :( I was very concerned about the blood she was swallowing.

By way of wrapping up a long story, they don't put stitches in tongues (thankfully, actually) if they can help it, and I was assured that it WOULD stop bleeding. We were sent home, not particularly peacefully, to deal with the bleeding as best we could. A few more scares that night--I gave her Tylenol, and she almost immediately threw up, and that was pretty gruesome. Now, if my son is a little squeamish, my husband is more so, perhaps owing to a sibling's bloody injury he witnessed as a child. So throughout the night, I was either ordering him to leave the room and NOT to help lest he turn a few shades of green (poor thing!!) and throw up or pass out or WATCHING him turn green. :( But you know, you can't blame someone for that kind of thing, and though he felt bad, I was in control of the blood as long as he was in charge of the toddler (and some bloody laundry). She went through a few outfits, three bibs, but gradually, gradually, the bleeding began to be less frequent, and bleed less each time. She did sleep a bit, which allowed the wound to rest without her messing with it! Finally, after about 6 hours, it stopped bleeding. I had to feed her solids in spite of the bleeding to keep her from crying, which would have made it worse. We did chill the food so it would be somewhat soothing, and the feeding went surprisingly well in spite of the blood. Nursing made it start up once. She drank a LOT of ice water--we were advised to give her lots of fluids. But it ended.

I carry my tension in my shoulders, and let me tell you about the knots I had! It's one thing when an injury occurs, is patched, and everyone moves on. It's another thing to have to deal with this kind of bleeding for hours, worried about what toys she can play with, trying to minimize the mess, stop the flow, keep her happy. But we all survived. And everyone slept pretty well last night, considering. Many prayers were said throughout the evening.

Oh! And Chiclette now finds herself confined to a much smaller space--with no furniture.