Happy World Anaesthesia Day!

This seems like a fitting day to share all things surgery related: the run-up, the main event, and the immediate aftermath.

One of my goals after turning 40 was to finally focus on my physical health once again. Long-story-short, family stress and aging and the pandemic lead to gaining almost 40 pounds over the past five-ish years. This was gonna be my year to start reversing all that. I lost about 20 pounds last year by focusing on nutrition.  And this year I was excited to add in more exercise and build back my strength. After finding out I was going to need surgery, it only doubled my desire to get stronger. I found Heather Robertson’s home workout videos on YouTube and committed to doing three a week interspersed with my perennial favorite Yoga with Adriene. In 8ish weeks I ended up gaining a lot of strength and flexibility, and I lost 7 more pounds. These pics are from a few days before the surgery. I felt really good about my efforts to go into this in the best shape possible. 

Getting ready for surgery meant a lot of appointments. First I met with a nutritionist through Wellness House, a non-profit that offers free programs and services for people affected by cancer. Did you know 40-something women are supposed to be eating AT LEAST 100 grams of protein a day? That is insanely hard to do without eating 3000 calories unless all you eat is chicken and broccoli for every meal. I wear a Fitbit on and off, but I really don’t like tracking my calories on the same app as my steps because then I see that I burned x number of calories and way over eat to compensate. So I sprung for the paid version of LoseIt! I really like the functionality of this app and the ability to track protein, fiber, and total calories. I highly recommend it if you’re looking for a nutrition tracker. 

I also had an appointment with a lymphedema physical therapist. They measure your range of motion and arm volume before surgery so they can compare it afterwards. Then a physical therapy plan is designed based on what you need. 

MOM SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH

Most of the time I was completely at peace with my decision to have my breasts removed with no reconstruction and couldn't wait for the surgery to come so it could just be over with. I talked about it a lot with Joe to make sure he was also ok with this decision. Yes yes, my body my choice and I was going to do whatever I wanted anyway, but I think it's important to hear and honor your spouse's wishes as well. That's why I don't have a full sleeve tattoo and eight thousand piercings -- Joe isn't a huge fan, and I want him to still like me. So I have a few tattoos and piercings and we're both happy with that. Without getting too intimate, let's just say we both really enjoyed my boobs. The lead up to surgery was rough. I ended up crying everytime we had sex, which made it not fun for anyone. Then I would stay up late reading horror stories in support groups about women whose partners just couldn't handle the change in their body and their relationships ended up falling apart. Joe has always made me feel desireable and sexy, through all the changes that happen from age 21 to 40 and having kids, and deep down I knew that wouldn't change. But man, it was still super scary at midnight. 

MOM YOU CAN COME BACK NOW

I decided to throw myself a party to say Tata to my tatas. Everything was planned and ready for a party in our backyard, and then the village decided they were going to spray for mosquitos that night. My truly incredible friend Julie said screw that, come have your party in my yard. She was the most delightful host and made it super awesome and everyone brought something to share. I posted the invite on Facebook, and women from every corner of my life showed up. Grade school and high school friends, work friends, mom friends, nature-nerd friends, and a few friends of friends who just tagged along. It really meant the world to me. The most gorgeously thoughtful Sol put it in words best, " I saw women pulling threads from their pockets to weave assurance into a wound we all fear."

Finally, August 5th rolled around. We dropped off the kids at my parents' house, boarded the dog, and Joe cleared his work schedule. The surgery was scheduled for 11:30am, but we had to be there by 7am for all the pre-op procedures. I had to fast for 12 hours before arrival, so I hadn't eaten anything since 7pm the night before. I do not do well without coffee and breakfast, and it was a big scary thing we were going to do, so I was not pleasant at all that morning. Similar to the whole summer, there was a lot of hurrying up and waiting. The surgeon popped in to do a final physical assessment, the anaesthesiologist came in to introduce himself, so many nurses, and I had to take a visit to the Nuclear Medicine department to have my lymphnodes mapped. They use a really tiny needle to inject radioactive die all around your nipple, it felt like 8 tiny bee stings that stopped hurting immediately. Then you wait half an hour and they check you with a geigercounter and some kind of imaging machine to see which is the sentinel lymphnode, basically the first one that everything passes through. That one will be biopsied during the surgery to see if the cancer has spread to other parts of my body. 

Then it was time to say goodbye. I am terrified of surgery and anaesthesia, so in the days leading up I had written letters to the kids and hid them in my sock drawer in case anything happened. I also made short voice recordings for them on my phone. I couldn't find the words to write or say to Joe, so I just told him where the letters were. When I was 10 I had an appendectomy, and I remember being given the anaesthesia before going into the operating room, so I was not expecting to be wheeled into the operating room awake. But that's what happened. It was so bright and white and there were so many machines and lights and instruments and people. The surgical staff all introduced themselves again and I had to climb up onto the operating table. Then it felt like as soon as I laid down I was out. 

When you first wake up you're in what's called Recovery 1 where they make sure your vitals are stable, your pain levels are ok, and start to give you some food and water. I was there for about an hour, and then I was moved to Recovery 2 where Joe was allowed to come back. I was SO HAPPY to see him. I didn't really feel any different. You're wrapped in so much gauze and bandages and a compression bra it practically looks like you still have a chest. The surgeon came out and said everything went great, they were able to remove all of the cancer but they did find isolated sells in the sentinel lymphnode so they removed all 14 axillarly lymphnodes connected to that. Thankfully all 14 of those were negative, but it was a slightly more extensive surgery on my left side. They put in four surgical drains, two on each side to help reduce swelling. Everything felt tight and it was hard to move my arms. Then I was discharged to recover at home. Riding in the car was the worst every bump and every press against the seatbelt was nauseating. Not painful, just ooky and made me feel really sick. 

I think me and Joe had pizza for dinner that first night, but I don't really remember. I was given a nerve block that lasted about 24 hours, but when the surgical pain killers started to wear off I put on my big girl panties and took the hydrocodone. I was also to alternate it with ibuprofen to help keep the pain level low and constant, not fluctuating up and down, so every three hours I was taking something. I FaceTimed with the kids, it was so good to see their faces and hear their voices. Hydrocodone turns me into a delightful chatty Kathy, so for the next 24 hours or so everything was great! After the nerve block wore off though, days 2-7 were the worst. I had to set alarms to take hydrocodone/tylenol or ibuprofen every three hours, even through the night, or the pain would get out of hand. Everything hurt. I was stiff, but I had to get up and walk as much as possible and use my arms below the shoulders as much as possible to help facilitate healing. Using cold packs in pockets on the mastectomy pillow really made things feel better, so I would leave them on for like an hour. Definitely not the doctor approved method and when I checked in with a nurse the next week she was like please only do 20 minutes on and 20 minutes off. Those days are blur of Joe taking care of the drains, napping, binging Fallout, icing, slowly walking around the block, and just generally feeling miserable. On Day 7 the kids came home, and the next day the dog returned. 

This post has been long enough, so the saga of the drains and long-term recovery will come next week.

Be Aware: Turning 40 Sucks!

 Hello again! It has been just over ten years since I felt the need to write about the mundanity of raising small children. Ten years later I have middle- and high- schoolers, a part-time environmental education job, four pets, and cancer. Happy birthday to me! Most of our pictures these days are of me and Joe together watching the kids do something far away. 

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month in the United States, and it has always bothered me. I think I might even have a post about it on this blog. Brands pink-wash everything to "raise awareness" and donate some tiny bit of money towards research. The only awareness I ever gained from this month was that boobs sometimes get cancer. Duh, I knew that already. I did not know anyone under the age of like 65 that had ever had it. Since my diagnosis, it turns out I have two friends that also have/had it and one of the parents of a former student is going through diagnosis right now. All under 40. I also did not know that alcohol and lack of exercise are the biggest risk factors, not genetics. So in the spirit of Pink-tober, I'm going to be sharing my story in the hopes that it might help someone else. I'm thinking there will be four posts. One each covering diagnosis, surgery/immediate recovery, treatment/long term recovery, and paying for cancer/survivorship. Is there something else specific you want to know about? Ask me anything. 

Here goes. I think the easiest way to organize this is an annotated time-line full of nitty gritty details. I'm going to bold and highlight pink the sentences that I think have the most important information if you'd just like to skim. 

May 8: Five days after turning 40 I had an annual physical exam. I have been seeing the same primary care physician (PCP) for over fifteen years. She knows that I am slightly hypochondriatic and am always convinced that I have MS. (I do not have MS.) For years I've been saying I feel really tired, and for years every doctor I've ever mentioned this too says something like "Well, you're a busy mom. Of course you're tired." In retrospect, this may have been an early symptom. Along with the usual annual exam things, she did a manual breast exam. I have been told from my very first breast exams twenty years ago that I have dense breast tissue and that I shouldn't be surprised if they feel lumpy bumpy and to not worry about it. Turns out women with dense breast tissue have a  FOUR TO SIX TIMES increased risk of developing breast cancer. AND it is harder to find in regular mammograms. The doctor felt something on the left side, then went back and forth from left to right a couple of times, and walked over to her computer and started furiously typing. I thought, well that can't be good. She explained that she felt something on the left, but not the right and since I just turned 40 I should be going for my first mammogram soon anyway. But since there was this weird thing, she went ahead and ordered a diagnostic mammogram as well. She said not to worry about it, most of the time it's nothing, and try not to freak out. For whatever reason, this time I believed her. I went home and I didn't worry. After all, everyone had always told me they were dense and it wasn't going to be anything. Just another annoying test. It's also interesting to note that the American Cancer Society no longer recommends self breast exams, or even clinical breast exams! This seems insane to me. https://www.cancer.org/cancer/types/breast-cancer/frequently-asked-questions-about-the-american-cancer-society-new-breast-cancer-screening-guideline.html

June 4: I go in for my mammogram. They walk you to the "Spa Room" where you change into a cheap pink robe and there's a TV with some daytime talk show on and you wait with a bunch of other women until they call your name. A regular mammogram is uncomfortable. They squeeze your boob inbetween two plastic sheets while you awkwardly hug a machine and they take pictures. A diagnostic mammogram is twice as uncomfortable because 1) they're doing it AGAIN with more pressure and 2) they make you stand in really weird positions to get the best angle for the image. Then you also get an ultrasound.  Afterwards they have you change back into your regular clothes and wait in the spa room for your results. This is the worst part, watching people who arrived after you leaving before you. It's never a good sign. Then a nurse shows up with a different color folder than everyone else's was and calls your name. Also not a good sign. They walk you to a special little room that is supposed to be private and calming with a fountain and some fake plants. The nurse explains that the radiologist did in fact see a 2x3x4 cm mass and is recommending an ultrasound guided biopsy and they can fit me in the schedule in two days. When you're only 40 and it's looking like cancer things move quickly. Then the radiologist comes in to see me. She explains that regardless of what the biopsy results are, whatever this mass is will have to come out. So at the very least I am for sure looking at surgery of some kind in the near future. 

June 6: The biopsy was scheduled for early morning. I head back to the same hideous spa room and wait. A biopsy is where they take a chunk of tissue and send it to a pathology lab to see what's in it. The doctor explained they were going to use a local anesthetic to numb the area, and the only thing I should feel is pressure, but no pain or stinging. So they inject the lidocaine, wait a few minutes, then insert a large open bore needle. The doctor takes the first sample, KACHUNK, and it hurt. Like a lot. I'm pretty sure I whimpered. I told the doctor that I definitely felt that, so she stopped and injected more lidocaine and I had a mini panic attack before moving on. She took six samples, and the rest were thankfully all numbed. Then they drop in a titanium clip to help with further imaging and surgery. After the biopsy you have to go have another mammogram to make sure the clip is visible. And let me tell you, if a regular mammogram is uncomfortable, having one immediately after having chunks of your boob cut out is even worse. As I'm hugging this loud machine, weeping and visibly upset, the tech says again, "I've had three of these it's probably nothing". I understand that doctors and nurses don't want to cause unnecessary anxiety, but hearing over and over again about how it's probably nothing only makes it worse when it's not nothing. 

June 8: The test results  pop-up in My Chart on a Saturday in the middle of Thomas's hockey game. No phone call, no explanation, just the raw pathology report, followed by a panicked weekend of deep Googling: 

    Invasive ductal carcinoma, low grade
    Estrogen receptor 92%
    Progesterone receptor 98%
    HER-2 negative
    Ki-67 35% (unfavorable)

June 10: I finally get a call from my PCP who was really upset the report was released directly to me instead of being held until she could view the results and call. I get set up with a Breast Health Nurse Navigator, a pair of RNs whose only job is to manage breast cancer patients. They help get insurance approval, set up appointments, provide resources and education, and are the easiest to get ahold of for questions. These women are incredible. Maybe it's because they don't provide any medical diagnoses or treatment so it feels less judgey, but they are easier to talk to about whatever million questions pop-up in the middle of the night, whatever random internet advice I've found, or whatever alternative treatments I have questions about. They see all of your communication with all of the doctors and all of your test results and help follow up if it seems like the doctors haven't gotten to something. They also have seen so many different women, going through all the different kinds of things that come with this diagnosis, and they just know a lot about the medical system, how to get insurance to pay for what you need, and make you feel less lost. 

June 12: By the time this appointment rolls around I am just a giant ball of anxiety. From all my Googling I've figured out that there is 97% survival rate at 5 years, 94% at 10 years, and 90% at 20 years. When you've just been told you're already in the 2% that got cancer, those numbers are NOT reassuring. It feels like there's no way you're going to be in the majority ever again and suddenly 20 years is not a long time at all. The oncologist explained that this is cancer in a milk duct that has started to spread to nearby breast cells and that the treatment is surgery to remove the cancer, then depending on what they find during the surgery possible radiation and chemotherapy, and definitely 5-10 years of hormone therapy. The strong ER/PR and HER-2 neg results are all good things. It is the most common type of breast cancer, and the easiest to treat. A Ki-67 number over 30 (out of 100) is an indicator that the cancer was growing quickly, and might mean a higher risk of recurrence. 

June 14: After spending six days researching all the different types of surgery possible, I finally met with a breast onco-surgeon. She explained that there is no difference in long-term outcomes between a lumpectomy with clear margins, single mastectomy (SMX), or double mastectomy (DMX) with or without reconstruction. It seems weird that your risk of recurrence doesn't go down if you remove breast tissue. I understand they can never guarantee to get ALL of it, but it seems like less boobs should = less risk. You get bumped to the annual mammogram club for monitoring, so they will likely see a recurrence quickly. But then, she pulled up the images of my mammograms. The regular mammogram, that I would have gotten anyway just for turning 40, SHOWED NOTHING. The surgeon said the radiologist would have looked at this and said everything was fine. If my PCP hadn't felt the lump I would have never known. In that very second I knew I was going to have a DMX because I would never sleep again knowing that the standard imaging test didn't even show the cancer. 

June 19: Back to the hospital for an MRI. For a breast MRI you are laying face down ona table with two holes for your breasts to sort of dangle freely in. So it feels less claustrophobic, but definitely weird. The MRI confirmed the size and location, far from my chest wall and the skin, and the closest lymphnodes looked clear. It also did not find anything in my right breast. That is all good news because it looks likely that it hasn't had the chance to spread. 

June 28: I am generally terrified of surgery. I hate the idea of general anesthesia. I have a very low tolerance for pain (even though I've given birth drug-free), especially long-lasting or stinging pain. And I really don't like taking strong pain-killers because I'm terrified of becomming addicted to opiates. Not that I've ever had a problem with that, it just seems like the kind of thing that might happen to me. The onco-surgeon had me meet with a plastic surgeon to talk about all the different reconstruction options. As soon as he said the words "necrotizing nipples" I was done. I wanted the surgery to be as simple and quick as possible. And I wanted the shortest possible recovery with the least amount of potential complications. So after talking with Joe, I decided on an Aesthetic Flat Closure (AFC), and the surgery was schedule for August 5. 

July 3: I had to meet with my PCP one more time to be cleared for surgery. I did take a little bit of joy at being able to say "Ha! This time it IS cancer!" when she walked into the room. Thankfully she's a good sport. 

Aaaannnnddddd..... that's how I was diagnosed. Ask me anything about anything and I'll answer as honestly as I can. Next week, all things surgical. 

Feeling Lucky

I ran the Get Lucky 7k on Saturday.,I registered shortly after joining a gym to give myself something to work towards. It went great. It was down in Jackson Park, all along the lakefront where I used to run when we lived in Hyde Park. It was so nice to be on roads that I knew.

 I usually have two goals for a race: don't finish last and don't walk. I definitely didn't finish last, and I came in well under my goal time of one hour (46:08 to be exact). As for not walking, well I have been running and walking all during training, and I did during the race as well. It seems like right now my body likes to run half a mile and then walk a quarter. I can pretty much go forever if I do that and still be able to move the next day. It was all fine and well while I was on the treadmill, but it was WAY hard to stop and walk after just a half mile into the race. Everything in me said don't quit! You can make it the whole way! But I also knew that if I did that I would be terribly sore the next day and probably seriously injure myself. So I swallowed my pride and walked. After that first stop, it got easier. I actually really love run/walking because it gives me a chance to reset my form and make sure that everything is going fine. 

Here are my two little leprechauns modeling my finishers medal. This is now the face Thomas makes when you say you're going to take a picture of him. And Lily has decided that covering her face is the optimal pose.

This race was exactly what I needed. Motivation to get back into the habit of working out regularly and forcing me to get back into running. I feel like I can safely put myself back in the 'runner' category now. I think my next step is going to be focusing on my arms and abs, while trying to run faster, lighter, and longer (more running, less walking). Any races I do will probably be stroller friendly 5ks. I'm really looking forward to the warmer weather and running outside again. 

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Good Eats

This has been the winter of the casserole. I didn't eat a lot of casseroles growing up, and I'm hard pressed to remember ever actually cooking one before. But something about them has just been so appealing for the past couple of months. Warm meat and cheese and carbs and veggies all in one dish. Amazing. I've tried several recipes, and thrown together random ingredients and leftovers. I'm kind of obsessed. 

The one recipe I keep coming back to is shepherd's pie from The Baby Bistro Cookbook. This is a fairly ridiculous book that is a little too sanctimonious for me, but it has great recipes. 

Ingredients:
2 potatoes, peeled and cut into 1" pieces
1 pound ground beef or lamb
1 small onion, chopped
1 cup tomato sauce
1/2 cup milk
1 cup frozen thawed mixed vegetables (peas, carrots, corn, etc.)
1/2 cup shredded Cheddar cheese

*Note: I use instant potatoes because it's easier so I skip a few steps, and I've used bison before. So good. Also I never measure cheese. I just shredd it until I have enough to cover it.

Directions:
Preheat the oven to 375*F.

Put the potatoes in a medium saucepan with enough water to cover. Bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium-high and continue boiling for 10-15 minutes or until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a fork. 

While the potatoes are cooking, in a large skillet, cook the ground beef or lamb over medium-high heat, crumbling it with a spoon. Spoon off and discard any excess fat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes or until the onion is translucent. Stir in the tomato sauce and remove from the heat.

Drain the potatoes and return them to the saucepan. Add the milk to the potatoes and mash until smooth. Spoon the meat mixture into a 2-quart casserole dish. (I used a pie plate.) Top with the frozen vegetables. Cover with the mashed potatoes and sprinkle the Cheddar cheese on top.

Bake for 30-45 minutes or until heated through and the potatoes are just slightly browned. 

Love Buzz

This post is about Valentine's Day. I hate Valentine's Day. I never liked it growing up and I sure didn't like it as a young adult. Now that I have kids? It's awesome. It's fun to teach them about what the different holidays mean, do some decorating, do some baking, do some making of things for other people. All great fun. 

This year I started the holiday off by dying my hair. The color is officially called 'Dark Auburn'. It's more dark than auburn, which is fine by me. I've had grey hair since I started grad school, just a few hairs here and there. Each kid gave me a few more, and now when I put it up in a pony tail I can see the wiry grey buggers sticking out all over the place. I never thought I would be the kind of person to be bothered by this, but I sure was. It makes me look SO OLD. And since I'm not yet 30 (at least for another couple of months) I decided enough is enough. A little semi-permanent hair dye isn't going to kill me. And I love it.

Lily's school delayed celebrating until the next week, so it was just a regular day at school. And a regular day of Thomas desperately trying to convince me that he, too, is in fact big enough to stay at pre-school with his favorite sister. 

I had been looking for an excuse to buy Lily the Frozen Castle Playset and Valentine's Day seemed just right. My mom had previously bought her the barbie sized dolls, and they were just begging for an appropriately scaled mansion to live in. She LOVES it. I can put on the soundtrack and she will happily sit there and play for like an hour at a time. It's fantastic. She prefers to use the small clip dolls when she plays by herself because they're easier for her to manipulate and change their clothes, but when we play together she likes to use the bigger ones. It's so fun.  

I don't even remember what this is all over his face, but it's still cute. 

We made some Valentines for the grandparents and Lily worked really hard to write her name on all of the ones she needed to bring to school. We were going to make our own Valentines for everyone, but once Lily saw the Disney princess ones at Meijer, it was a lost cause. And, honestly, it was enough work just to get her to write her name on them I can't imagine trying to make them all, too. 

Finally, Joe met us for dinner at the Buzz Cafe, here in Oak Park. They were hosting a fancy family dinner with a prix fixe menu. It was so awesome. I would highly recommend this to anyone with small kids who wants a chance to actually go out and eat a nice dinner on Valentine's Day. It was sort of an expected disaster. It took about 15 minutes to seat us, even with the reservations, but everybody was just waiting together, a bunch of kids played together, and people kept good attitudes. Then because the menu was set, the staff didn't have to waste time taking orders, they just brought stuff right out. And it was BYOB, so we got to bring our favorite cheap wine, Koonunga Hill. And it was close enough that we got to drink the whole bottle. They had fun food for the kids, good food for the adults, a guy playing the keyboard, and it was loud. Kids were talking loud, babies were crying or just making baby noises, and it was all ok. This is the most horrible picture of me ever, but it's the only one we got that night. 

This is one of my favorite restaurants in the whole world. We go every Saturday morning for breakfast and to see Joe's dad play with the Farmers' Market Band. I went there today for lunch with the kids because it had been a long morning and they serve peanut butter and jelly. There's a space in the back for the kids to play while waiting for food (not on Saturdays) and the servers are always super nice. I just love it.

So for the first time ever, I think, I can honestly say I had a great Valentine's Day.

Happy

I complain about parenting. A lot. The spills, the messes, the crying, the poop, the touching, the reading, the cooking, everything. It's no secret that I don't love this every minute of every day. 

There have been a few articles making the rounds on Facebook about things you'll miss when your kids are older. And I read them and always think, yeah, well, everything's better when you're remembering it. I kind of smirk and think you just don't remember how much it sucks. 

This morning in my inbox was an email from the Park District of Oak Park proclaiming that they are looking to hire people for the summer. Specifically, environmental educators to teach summer camp at the Oak Park Conservatory just a few blocks from our house. My first thought, this is perfect. This is exactly the kind of job I'm looking for right now. Something education and environmental related. Close to home. Doesn't start until June. Only for the summer. Perfect. 

Then I thought about all the fun things I'm looking forward to doing this summer. Baseball games, the zoo, taking the train all over the city, gardening, running, swimming, playing. And most of all, not having a schedule. I am usually the type of person who LOVES having a schedule, but right now I'm feeling kind of trapped by it. So the spontaneity and hours of summer sunshine hold the promise of freedom and happiness. I'm excited about having two KIDS, not babies. I'm excited about being with those KIDS, who can walk and run and jump and explore and dig and splash. And suddenly, working four days a week from 8-4 doesn't sound so great. 

After breakfast, Joe took the kids for a museum adventure downtown. I got to go to a yoga class, walk home in the very pretty snow (I can't wait for it to go away, but when it's falling it is so very pretty), straighten up the house, make myself lunch, and just catch my breath. Now I'm sitting on the couch, in a clean empty house, watching the Olympics, sipping tea, soon to be knitting, and what do I want? I desperately want to kiss Thomas's chubby face until he giggles uncontrollably and gives me the biggest, bestest baby hug ever. I want to answer Lily's 1,437,568 questions about the Olympics, princesses, snow, and the meaning of life. I spend all day, every day with them, and now that I finally get a chance to be alone, once the house is clean, all I want is to be with them some more.

I'm surprised to realize that in spite of myself, I am enjoying this season of life. That the trite expression 'The days are long, but the years are short' is true. That I am, in fact, happy.

Gym Rat

I joined a gym this week. This sentence is usually part of a New Year's resolution and is written with a sense of excitement and anticipation. For me, like most things, it's a little more fraught. In my head I am still a twenty year old college athlete. My body, however, ten years and two kids later, says otherwise. And, again like most things, I feel the need to justify it.   

1) I am a runner. That means I run outside, rain, shine, snow, cold, whatever. The gym is for when you're sick or injured, or for lifting. And that lifting has to be serious free-weights, not little two-pound dumbbells and certainly not machines. 

The truth is, I am currently not a runner. I haven't run since last summer when we first got the double jogging stroller, and the reason I haven't run since then is because I went at it too hard too fast. So I need to start with walking, then add in SOME jogging, and maybe eventually I will be a runner again. That largely depends on how my crazy, self-dislocating hips hold up. Another truth is that I have become a huge weather wimp. I don't like it to be too cold, too hot, wet, humid, or pretty much anything other than room temperature. By joining a gym, the weather stops being a excuse not to work out. 

2) Working out with your kids is easy and fun! Pop in a video, do some yoga together, put them in the stroller for a jog! It's so great for them to see you being healthy!

That might work for some people, but it absolutely has not worked for me. I've tried doing a video while Thomas naps in the morning, but he invariably wakes up half way through and cries while I finish the rest of it. Doing yoga with two little people around is IMPOSSIBLE. I could deal with the distraction and not being able to really focus, but I can't handle being in downward dog and one kid is climbing onto my back while the other is trying to pants me. As for the stroller, I prefer not to have them strapped into things for long periods of time if they don't have to be. Lily does like to run with me sometimes, so when it's really nice out again we'll probably go for short runs together and I'll push Thomas. That'll be great. When it's warm. The gym has child care. Cheap, cheap childcare. And if I time things right, I get to take a shower. Alone. It's glorious. 

3) I'm an athlete. That means you have to compete. 

I really like to run races. I'm not competitive in the sense that I want to win, I'm competitive with myself. Faster, farther, better splits, whatever. I try to improve something each time I enter a race. And I will do races again. Just not yet. I did the Monster Dash Half Marathon when Lily was 15 months. Thomas will be almost 2 years old by the time that comes around next fall, and MAYBE I'll be ready to do it. We'll see. It's sort of a flexible goal. While I was walking on the treadmill (at 10% incline doing speed intervals) a 50ish woman hopped on next to me and started jogging. It took all of my self-control to not join in. I want to run. I will run. Just not yet. 

4) I should be taking advantage of my time alone with Thomas while Lily is in pre-school instead of shunting him off onto someone else. 

When Lily was a baby, we did a bunch of baby classes. Baby yoga, baby music, baby art (yes, such a thing exists), story times, baby gym. Everything. But I think that mostly was just an excuse for me to get out of our apartment and interact with other adults. Also, it taught me how to interact with my baby. I honestly had no idea what to do with the tiny person they let me leave the hospital with. For Thomas, I feel absolutely no desire to do those things. We do all of those things, sing silly songs, read baby books together, have a tiny plastic slide, play with a million blocks, all day everyday. Sometimes with Lily, sometimes without. Because we co-sleep he's literally within arms reach of me for 24 hours a day. One hour a day less is not going to make a big difference for him, and it absolutely makes a big difference for me. "Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. And happy people just don't kill their husbands (or children)." - Elle Woods, Legally Blonde. And he gets to socialize with other kids. Double bonus. 

So these are things I've had to accept. And after going the past two days, I have to admit it's totally been worth it. I can't wait to go back on Monday and walk a little faster, a little farther.   

The Ugly Truth

Lily called me ugly today. 

It really took me by surprise because we never talk about people or things being ugly. I don't call myself or anyone else ugly. I don't know where she got that from. After I told her that hurt my feelings and we talked about how that's not a nice thing to say, she apologized and skipped away to play with her dolls. I went back to cleaning up from lunch and then I cried because the fact of the matter is she was right. 

I was ugly when I grabbed her arm and yelled at her for pushing Thomas down. Why can't I be more understanding that it's hard to always share?

I was ugly when I snapped at Thomas for yelling because he wasn't getting fed fast enough. Why can't I be more patient, he's just a baby.

I feel ugly when I open my drawer and there's only one pair of pants that doesn't have holes in the knees. Why can't I dress like an adult?

I feel ugly when Joe gets home at 8 and I'm still in sweat pants and a ponytail. Again. Why can't I get my act together?

I feel ugly when I wish I could go back in time for a weekend before we had kids. I want it to be just us again. Sleep in, make breakfast, do a crossword, listen to the radio and actually be able to hear it, think/talk/do NOTHING kid related. Why can't I enjoy my kids as much as I should?

I feel ugly when I think I'm better than this. I have too much education to just be doing this. It seems like such a waste. Why doesn't parenting feel like I'm doing 'enough'?

I feel ugly. There is no sweet turning point to this post. No cute little moral. I just feel ugly. 

Halloween

It's still November so this isn't THAT late. Ok, maybe it is. 

You may remember last year I made Wonder Pets costumes for all of us. It was a pain in the butt, took forever, and I swore I would never do it again. This year, I thought, I'm just going to buy whatever for the kids. Then Lily decided she wanted to be Sofia the First and Thomas should be Clover the Bunny, and hey you guys can be Queen Miranda and King Roland. So... I ended up making some of it, but not nearly as involved as last time. 

Here we have Sofia (totally store bought, thanks mom!).

And Clover.. It is nearly impossible to find a grey bunny costume for some reason. So I had to make this. I used an old jacket that was too small for me. I cut the hat and ears out of the torso, then sewed the legs together for matching pants. We already had a grey onesie and slippers. Add some pink felt to the ears and cotton fluff for a tail and tada! Instant bunny.

Here's King Roland with the kids. I made simple satin sashes with a button and fabric paint letters and sewed up a couple of blingy felt crowns.

The day before Halloween we took the train down to Joe's office where they had trick or treating. I think it's so nice that they do things like that so parents get a chance to celebrate with their families a bit. There was another family there with a Sofia and Clover. Lily thought that was amazing. 

And the haul... After Lily dumped out her pumpkin bucket (thanks Susan!) she lined it all up in the order she planned on eating it. She is my daughter, after all, you've gotta have a plan. For a couple of weeks she was pretty excited about getting to eat one piece after lunch each day. Now she's mostly forgotten about it so I get to eat it. 

Halloween day itself it poured. We did the super-lame-o drive around thing. We drove to my parents', Joe's parents', my brother and his wife's, and then made one last stop to see some friends where we ended up actually walking door to door for a block or so. We had enough fun to say we did it and got soaked. Then Joe unexpectedly got to leave work early so we ordered pizza, watched The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, unplugged the doorbell and put out a bowl for local candy hounds (we live on the second floor and tromping up and down the stairs with a baby and a 3 year old every 2 minutes was very unpleasant). Pretty relaxed, very fun, a total success. 

Random Thoughts

I was in the middle of a very late Halloween post with lots of pictures, but it apparently vanished. So instead I'm going to write about several small things probably not worthy of individual posts. 

1) The Art of Weekending

With Joe working long hours during the week, weekends have become super important both as a time to all be together and as a time for each of us to recharge. The key to a good weekend, for us, is to have a plan that is open to change based on how we feel when we wake up Saturday morning. We always start by walking to the Buzz Cafe for breakfast and to listen to Joe's dad play the banjo. Then we usually have one thing each day that we HAVE to go to (visiting family, pageant rehearsal, something previously scheduled). We try to plan one fun outing that is completely optional. If we're feeling adventurous, we'll all go have fun. If I need a break and a chance to catch up with things at home (or just take a nap), Joe will take the kids out. Or if a Joe needs to get stuff done, I'll take them. We try to be pretty conservative with our commitments so the weekends don't feel like work. So far, they've all been pretty great. 

2) Sleep

Because Joe has been getting home late, I have been having to put the kids to bed by myself. This is a particular challenge for us because Thomas sleeps in our bed, Lily falls asleep in her bed with one of us sitting next to her, our bedroom is joined to her bedroom, and neither of them will go to sleep if the other one is within earshot (except in the car for some reason). I am fully aware that these are all problems we have created. At first I tried laying down in our bed with Thomas and told Lily to stay in her bed and listen to music. Well, she just kept on talking to me through the wall and then Thomas wouldn't settle. So we ended up just going cold turkey and said goodnight, stay in your room and listen to music, I'll be in the living room with Thomas. She cried herself to sleep the first two nights then got over it. Now she goes to bed happily and just gets out of bed a couple of times early on to ask for another stuffed animal or book or to listen to Puff the Magic Dragon again. I was amazed. The transition was so easy. Why hadn't we done this before? She's doing so great! I found some random things in her bed when I changed the sheets, but she had been playing in there earlier so I didn't think much of it. Then the other night she came out and said she had found her ring in one of her boxes. Why are you looking in that box? Silence. Turns out that what I assumed was peaceful, quiet going to sleep-ness was really quiet, covert party time in her room. She likes going to bed by herself because she gets to listen to music, read books, play with stuffed animals and her dollhouse all without anyone watching her or knowing what she's doing. The other morning she said she had a Halloween party with all of her animals. As far as I can tell she's usually asleep for real by 9pm at the latest, so I guess that's good enough. 

3) Housekeeping

Two kids make a ridiculous amount of mess. All the time. Everywhere. I've been struggling to figure out a way to keep the house not looking like a sty without just parking the kids in front of the TV for an hour a day. I had come across some cleaning plans on Pinterest and decided to give it a try. Some of them are ridiculous. Who wipes down the baseboards once a week? But some are more reasonable. I don't know why I never thought of breaking it down into doing one thing a day instead of all at once. It's so much easier this way! Every morning I do one load of laundry, empty the dishwasher, make the beds, and sweep. This only takes like 15 minutes and I can usually get most of it done before we walk to school. Lily likes to help sweep and her two official chores are to match the socks and make her bed. We try to do toy pickup throughout the day together.  Monday I scrub the bathroom while Lily is at preschool and Thomas takes a nap. Tuesday I dust. Lily and Thomas LOVE to help with this. Wednesday I vacuum. Thursday I wash the floors and/or change the sheets. Friday is free! Or, more likely making up for whatever I missed earlier in the week. Over the weekend I try to get one larger project done (finish unpacking something, clean the fridge, hang art, etc.). Turns out when I stick to this the house never really looks like it needs to be cleaned. It's amazing. Things might not be as organized as I would ideally like, but it's clean, relatively tidy, and I wouldn't be  embarrassed if  someone unexpectedly came over. 

All of this is rather mundane, but it's my life these days. I'll try to put together the Halloween pictures again and there will definitely be a Thanksgiving post, probably sometime before Christmas. Have a great weekend!

I puréed bacon.

True story. I made a soup for dinner tonight that involved putting bacon in a blender. Thank god it's fall.

From One Pot, One Bowl:

Bacon & Pea Soup
All the flavor of traditional pea and ham soup, but with a fraction of the effort, time, and money.

Serves 4
3/4 pound thick cut bacon, chopped
1 onion, coarsely chopped
3 1/2 cups frozen peas (reserve a few for garnish)
1 box (32 ounces) vegetable broth [I used chicken broth instead.]

In a large saucepan, fry the bacon until golden. Set aside some for garnish. Move the rest to the side and in the fat gently fry the onion until just translucent. Add the peas and vegetable broth. Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cook until the peas are tender, 3 to 5 minutes. Using a handheld blender, blend the soup until smooth. To serve, pour the soup into bowls and garnish with a few whole peas and a little crispy bacon. 

Omigosh is this delicious. We don't have an immersion blender, so I just did it in two batches in the blender and it worked out fine. I served it with the Maltese Cheese Pie from the same cookbook.

Maltese Cheese Pie
With four simple ingredients, this pie is really quite amazing.

Serves 4 to 6
3 eggs
1 container (15 ounces) ricotta cheese
1/4 cup chopped parsley
2 sheets frozen puff pastry, thawed

Preheat the oven to 350*F. Line an 8-inch round baking dish with parchment paper. In a bowl, beat the eggs; set aside a small amount to paint the top of the pie. Stir the ricotta and parsley into the eggs. Season with sea salt and pepper to taste. Line the baking dish with 1 sheet of the pastry. Pour in the ricotta mixture and cover with the remaining pastry; seal the edges with a fork and trim the excess pastry. Brush the top crust with the reserved egg and cut 2 or 3 vent holes. Bake until the pastry is golden on top 35 to 40 minutes.

This turned out mostly okay. The puff pastry didn't quit firm up how I expected, maybe I just needed to leave it in longer. But it was warm and cheesy and went well with the pea soup on this chilly, rainy night.

I checked out this cookbook from the library, and it's okay. I wouldn't rush out and buy it. The gimmick is 4 ingredients in one pot or bowl. Mostly I've used it as a good place to get ideas and then use the recipe as a starting off point for a dish. These two recipes, however, were worth sharing. 

Happy fall!

One Shot

Joe started his fancy new job at a law firm. 

...Snap back to reality...

And I'm back to being a full-time-plus stay at home mom.

...Oh there goes gravity...

It's been quite a week. Those couple of lines from Eminem's 'One Shot' keep running through my head. Having Joe home for the last two months has been such a blessing, and I knew it was going to be a tough transition when he started, but I was still blindsided. 

Monday was a complete disaster. Somebody was crying all of the time, every ten minutes Lily asked "Where's daddy?", Joe didn't get home until 8PM, and all I could think was "This is it. This is how the rest of my life is going to be." Then Tuesday, glorious Tuesday. We went to the zoo and had an amazing three hours followed by a really solid nap. Dinner was easier, Joe got home earlier, and all ended well. Wednesday was picture day, so that led to a hectic morning, but over all went fine. I was supposed to work Thursday and Friday, but that was cancelled. I was disappointed because I really look forward to decorating for one or two days, but I took advantage of the previously arranged child care to get the last of our furniture built and the beginning of our art on the walls. 

The two hardest parts of our day are nap time and dinner prep. The trouble with nap time is the only way I can get them both to sleep is to drive. They both need to sleep at the same time, but they keep each other awake if they're in the same room ( but not the same car) and Lily won't lie down in bed by herself. We've finally got her staying in her own bed ALL night, but one of us has to sit in a chair next to her until she falls asleep. So I'm not really sure what to do other than drive for an hour and a half to two hours each day. That's getting a little expensive, but at least I get a chance to listen to some public radio, drink something caffeinated, and not be touched by anyone for a while. 

Dinner time is a constant struggle. I really like to make real food, but that is really hard with two little ones. Lily can "help", but Thomas just screams. I'm toying with the idea of getting a mother's helper to come from like 4-5 each day just to watch them while I cook. That seems a bit ridiculous, though. 

The absolute best part of my day is the half mile walk to and from Lily's preschool. Things are usually rushed and chaotic as we hurry to get out the door, but once we're out, everything changes. Part of the rush is so we can leave a little early and take our time on the walk. Smell flowers, crunch leaves, pet dogs and cats, and just chat with each other. Lily dances and sings and tells stories. Thomas babbles and coos and sometimes naps. The walk home is slower because she's more worn out, but she tells me all about her morning and usually makes elaborate plans for the afternoon. These walks are precious. 

And between those two walks I have my little fat baby all to myself. Almost standing on his own, he's still so snugly and happy and round. Joe played a Pete Seeger song for me called Little Fat Baby, and it's now one of my favorites. If you have little people in your life, you need to download it right now. (I couldn't find it on YouTube, otherwise there would be a link here.) I can't believe he's ten months old already, and in know how fast they are going to keep passing by. These mornings  are precious. 

This week has reminded me that I am a mama who goes. We need to get out of the house for all of our well being, especially after nap time. I am grateful to have a nice park at the end of the block so when the late afternoon crazies arrive we can just swoop out the door for a quick romp and then start the dinner battle. I foresee many afternoon trips to the library and the conservatory in our future, if the weather ever turns colder. 

And through all of this I'm trying to remember to enjoy some of it. It's not all fun, it's intense, and it's exhausting, but the days are so fleeting. I'm trying to hold onto the walks, and the mornings, and the moments of joy so that when the breakdowns and crankies take over, I don't get too overwhelmed. The opportunity to be such a big part of my children's lives will only come once. These days are precious. 

...You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime...

Summer Round-up

I was going through my phone and decided that I needed to add some pictures from our summer. As not-fun as I remember it being, our pictures say otherwise. The first big event was graduation! 

Then bar review started and that meant basically single-parenting for two months. This led to lots of random adventures and photos. 

Then Lily turned 3! We had a small celebration with Lily's two favorite friends, Ainsley and Louise, on her actual birthday, followed by another small celebration with family. That means she got TWO cakes!

Lily got her first haircut. She only agreed to do this on two conditions: 1) She wanted it cut like Sofia the First; 2) she wanted to wear a tiara when she was done. 

We spent a week at the cabin.

And then miraculously fall started. Lily had her first ballet class, we planted a mason jar herb garden, Thomas is standing and eating solids like a champ, and lots and LOTS of dress up. 

Look at this sleeping chub. His legs are so fat his little top foot can't reach the mattress and just kind of hangs there. 

So it turns out that the summer of misery wasn't so bad after all.