DH is NOT 40. Yet.

Milestone birthdays and me do not seem to mix very well.  When I turned 30, my twin boys had both recently come home from the NICU.  We had the extended family come over, as is traditional in my family, and a cake (I think), but most of the evening was spent passing my beautiful boys around and ooing and aaahing over them.  Sleep deprivation and new mom hormones combined, and the evening was a blur.

Earlier this month I turned 40.  Not only was it the second night of Passover (which normally would have been spent participating in the Second Night Seder at my synagogue) but I was sick.  Apparently now that I had pneumonia in October, every head cold has the potential of settling in my lungs and becoming pneumonia all over again.  I worked hard (a lot of rest, liquids, decongestants, antibiotics, and two different inhalers) and I did NOT end up in the hospital again, but it still took me a good two weeks to get over.  I didn't even get a cake this year, and only my mom (who stopped by on the day of my birthday to bring me a present from both my parents but stayed well at the other end of the couch to avoid getting what I had) sang me "Happy Birthday."

Around that time, DH (who is a full year younger than me) started talking about inviting a few friends over to celebrate his birthday which is at the end of this month.  He assured me that he would take care of everything.  He also told me that this was going to be a "I'm not yet 40" party (nice, isn't he.)  Fast forward to this weekend.  I asked him to make me a list of everyone he had invited and show me who has said they are coming.  The list of RSVPs is already well over twenty!  When I asked him if he was planning to barbecue, he infomred me that he thought "we" would just do a whole bunch of appetizers like "we" do for New Year's Eve.  Of course, that is the royal we.

So this week, in addition to everything else I need to do, I will be compiling a list of appetizers, shopping for the ingrediants, and then making anything I can make ahead of time.  I will post recipes after I have finished compiling them.

And after his "I'm not 40!" party is over, I am going to start planning my do-over 40th birthday party.  Because I so have it coming to me!

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving marks the one year anniversary of when DH's medical mystery, the mystery that had taken over our lives for two and a half years, was finally solved.  This week, one year ago, DH once again began experiencing the strange stroke-like symptoms that caused sudden, significant weakness over the entire left side of his body.  He was once again unable to use his left leg without it buckling, unable to lift his left arm or use his hand. Once again his words became garbled, the left side of his face drooped, and he couldn't move his tongue to the left side of his mouth.  

This time was different; DH was experiencing a brand-new symptom.  This time, his head hurt, too.  And even though every medical test that any doctor could think of had already been run, this new symptom caused the doctors to hospitalize DH yet again in order to re-run the old tests and try some new ones.  The headache, in conjunction with all the other symptoms, finally forced the doctors to think outside of the box.  It finally provided the missing piece of the puzzle that convinced the doctors once and for all that DH was not allowing his stress to manifest itself in a physical way with these bizarre symptoms (a.k.a. Conversion Disorder).  

On Thanksgiving Day last year, a neurologist finally came up with the diagnosis of Complex Hemiplegic Migraines, a disorder that explained everything and, as soon as it was mentioned and I began researching it on-line, seemed so obvious I could not believe that none of the fancy-shmancy neurologists at Jefferson or Johns Hopkins had even considered it.

Late in the afternoon that day, DH was given an injection of medication to treat the migraine, and within ten minutes, the symptoms went away.  Just like that.  He could speak clearly, he could move his arm above his head, he could walk without a cane.  For the first time since this medical roller coaster started, he was able to leave the hospital better than when he entered.  This time he did not require weeks and weeks of physical therapy to regain full use of his body, only to relapse with yet another episode anywhere from a month after all the symptoms had disappeared to as little as a few days after being discharged from the hospital, long before his body was back to normal.  This time, exactly one year ago today, the doctors figured out what was wrong and actually treated it.  They prescribed medication to prevent the migraines from returning and medication to take at the first sign that a migraine is coming anyway. 

Don't get me wrong - we have ended up in the ER a number of times this year.   Any time DH's symptoms do not respond to his medication, we have to head back so the doctors can make sure it isn't a stroke.  And every time, despite acting  they are humoring me when I tell them the specific medicine he needs in his IV and that the symptoms will completely disappear within ten minutes, DH's symptoms have disappeared within ten minutes.  But the times that his migraines do not respond to his medication are becoming fewer, and I clearly have become more convincing in the ER - our visits are shorter each time now that the doctors are giving DH the IV drug earlier and earlier into our stay.

This year, as we went around the table overflowing with our extended family to share exactly what we were thankful for, I couldn't help but tear up a little as I remembered last Thanksgiving: taking the kids to visit Daddy during the day, Twin B getting so excited about how "lucky" we were to be in the hospital that day since the cafeteria was giving away free turkey lunches and dinners, trying to provide a sense of normalcy for the kids by taking them to our regular Thanksgiving dinner at my parents' even though DH was still in the hospital.  I remember talking to DH on the phone soon after the medication had taken effect, marveling at how easy it was to understand his speech as he told me he could go home the next day.

And so today marks the anniversary of the mystery being solved.  It marks the end of DH being told it was "all in his head" and the beginning of actually treating the problem.        

Happy Thanksgiving, indeed.

Just Do It

Tonight begins Day One of DH's and my 30 day challenge based on Douglas Brown's book, Just Do It: How One Couple Turned Off the TV and Turned On Their Sex Lives for 101 Days (No Excuses!).  It's quite an inspiring book in the sense that they acknowledge how hard it is (hee hee, I just wrote "hard" - I know, I have a twelve-year-old's sense of humor sometimes most of the time) to have or even want a regular sex life when you're a parent with young kids, but they made a committement to doing it for one hundered (they added in the extra day just for fun).  It is hard (tee hee) to even be relatively awake by the end of the day to want to do more than sleep or just veg in front of the tv so you don't have to even think.  DH and I work with other people's kids all day long - his are in middle school, mine are in preschool.  Then we both are innundated with our own kids as soon as they get home.  And as much as I love them, the boys are eight and both have special needs, the girl is six and has her own set of special needs by virtue of having the world's longest case of PMS.  By the time they go to bed (finally!), I'm spent.  I don't want anyone else touching me.  Or talking at me.  Or needing me.  For ANYTHING.

On the weekends it's a whole different story.  I get to indulge in my favorite activity of all time: sleep!  And I remember:

Sleep is good!

But once I'm well rested, I begin to remember that I actually have another favorite activity I like to do in bed.  On those days (and afternoons and evenings) I actually encourage my DH to come back to bed with me.  We go to bed together at night and enjoy turning to each other touch and caress and . . .

The thing that I have found the most amazing are those times when I have made some kind of deal with DH that ultimately involves me having s-e-x on a weeknight, no matter how tired I am or what kind of day it has been.  Cmon, I'm not the only one who does this, am I?  "Sweetie, if you take care of homework tonight and let me go upstairs for about an hour to chill out, I promise you can <ahem> 'take advantage of me' tonight (wink, wink, nudge, nudge)."  When it comes time to "do the deed," I might start out lying next to him in bed with absolutely no desire for it at all despite the fact that we're both naked.  But then the heat from his body lying so close to mine will soon begin to feel good, and the unmistakable feeling that he is turned on will quickly remind me that I did make this promise, so I'll turn to him and encourage him to roll on top of me (c'mon, it's not like we only do it that way, but the point is I'll be really tired by now and am just thinking about getting it over so we can go to sleep).  This is when the amazing thing occurs: after we get started, no matter how tired or not into it I was at the beginning, I will soon be just as into it as he is!
Ever hear the expression, "Fake it til you make it"?  This is what I have named this phenomenom.

So with that in mind, I found Douglas Brown's book while browsing in a book store with DH one evening.  "Hmmm," I pondered, "'Just do it' seems to make sense.  I wonder HOW they managed it?"  And I started reading.  And I couldn't put it down.  I loved that they made a committment to their sex life.  I loved that they began feeling closer because of it.  And I loved that I knew without even asking that DH would be on board with us trying it.

One hundred days seemed like too much to try out at this point in our lives, but thirty days seemed manageable.  I decided New Year's Day would be the perfect starting point.  

And so this year I have the typical resolutions that most people do:

1. Eat healthier,
2. Exercise more,
3. Take better care of myself by getting a full eight hours of sleep, and . . . . hmmm, there's one more.  What was it again?  Oh yeah, I remember!
4. Get more sex.       

Do you have any resolutions?  Feel like joining in DH's and my challenge?  Please comment and let me know.  Also check out this blog as another place to share your resolutions.

Winter Vacation

Actual size of bandaid on her big toe.

The Princess is resting on the couch is resting her foot with the injured toe on the coffee table.  You see the toenail has broken slightly and she refuses to allow me to trim the nail at all.  She would, however, allow me to put a bandaid on it.  Unfortunately we don't have any normal size bandaids, so I had to use a very large one and then tape it down on all sides, so it appears to be almost a cast on her big toe.  It's a shame she's not more dramatic.



Not even close to the actual amount of Legos Twin A actually owns.

 Twin A is in the playroom putting together one of his fifty thousand Lego kits he received from my ILs for Christmas.  Yes, we're Jewish, but my ILs are not, so we stay overnight on Christmas Eve every year and then spend Christmas Day there as well.  And man, do the kids get presents!  In any case, Twin A has been having major, major meltdowns about being able to use the Wii, so we have been writing a schedule for him each day to show to show him when he gets his fifteen minutes of electronic time.

Twin B is in the dining room trying to grow crystals with his new chemistry set.  Every minute or so he tells me a fact about what he is doing or to read me a direction.  And then repeats it.  The same fact or the same direction.  Or the same question.  Over and over and over and over again.  I keep jumping up to make sure he has read the directions.  Or is not using his finger to stir the crystal solution.  Or is actually using a measuring instrument to measure out 1/3 of a teaspoon and not just pouring in what looks like it could be that amount.  Because in the back of my mind, I fear I will miss hearing him say this some day, and then it will be too late:

DH is resting upstairs after having spent most of the morning shoveling out the driveway.  And the sidewalk.  And one of our elderly neighbor's driveways.  Because he is just that kid of guy. 

We had attempted to take the kids sledding after he finished shoveling, but, BRRRRR - Baby, it's COLD outside!  I think it took longer to get our winter gear on than we actually ended up spending outside.  After a few minutes (literally) at the top of the hill with the wind so strong that it actually knocked the Princess down twice, the kids began begging to go home.  So much for "family bonding."

But ultimately, it's all good, because the kids will soon be heading over to my sister's for a sleepover.  Oh yeah, DH and I are going to the movies and then to a big book store (because that's what we like to do in our free time - hanging out in a book store is our version of geek heaven), and then back home without having to whisper or tiptoe or hold back any noises at all, if you know what I mean (wink, wink).  And then we get to sleep in as late as we want (as long as we pick up the kids by noon).  Oh yeah!      





















Who is this Teacher, Mom, and Crazy Lady, anyway?

I'm so glad you asked.

Just like the title implies, I am a teacher.  I'm kind of a born teacher, always knew I would be working with kids in some capacity.  I taught elementary school for about eight years before I had my own children.  Currently I teach Pre-K, a combined class of threes and fours.  The school is small and up-to-date with the current early childhood research so everything we do is developmentally appropriate and big on learning through play.  The hours are good (8:30-1), the kiddies are so cute, the director is wonderful, but the pay sucks.

After trying to get pregnant for about five years, I am thrilled to say that I am also a mom.  I have three children:

1. Twin A is an 8 year old third grader who is learning to live with Aspergers and his more recent diagnosis of ADHD.  He is our electronic genius and computer whiz and appears to have a soundtrack playing in his head at all time since he often will just burst into a song and dance no matter where he is.
2. Twin B is also an 8 year old third grader who is also learning to live with Aspergers and ADD, both newly diagnosed.  He is a sensitive science lover, and can tell you everything about any episode of Mythbusters whether you wanted to know or not.
3. The Princess is a six year old first grade girly-girl.  No matter how many times I tell the twins that she does not make the rules, they allow her to boss them around all the time.  She loves coloring and crafts and somehow has had the earliest and longest case of PMS I have ever heard of.

Lest you think I am raising these children all alone, let me tell you a little about DH, my husband for the past fifteen years.  We were cast as romantic opposites in a play in high school and were friends ever since.  Our friendship feelings gave way to love after my first year of college, and we got married after I graduated.  DH is also a teacher, and even if he gets on my nerves every once in a while, I'm happy to say that he is a really good guy.

There is more to me than being a teacher and a mom/wife, though it's hard to remember that at times.  I love to sing and act, though I haven't been able to perform in a show since I was pregnant with the Princess.  I read all the time, especially romantic suspense novels.  I talk a good game about eating right and exercising, though I realize I need to do more than talk about it to get myself in shape.  I have both major clinical depression and narcolepsy, and am happy to say that my life is an example of better living through chemistry. 

And so this is my life.  We laugh, we cry, and I let it all hang out for all of you to see.  Glad you decided to come along for ride!