Noah is sick.

Apparently, there’s something going around his day care classroom, and he was feverish and listless yesterday afternoon. Not that they called us or anything. You know, so we could see a doctor yesterday, or give him some medicine to help him feel better. Or maybe to avoid getting more kids sick.

By 6:30 pm, his temp was somewhere around 104. (A hair above, by the ear thermometer; followup with the more invasive thermometer showed a hair below.) He wouldn’t eat anything, not even a cookie, although he did suck down watery apple juice like a champ.

The on call pediatrician advised alternating tylenol & motrin, which seemed to help, but he still had a rough night. Strangely, I think Noah is dreaming about apples. He just said “apple” about 6 times, and is now sleeping quietly again.

We’ll see what the doctors say in real life later this morning.

Speaking of doctors, we had the second opinion Reproductive Endocrinologist appointment yesterday. It was a productive visit, but not without some issues.

Here’s what the RE had to say:

  • Stop nursing and do not attempt to get pregnant for at least 2 months after you stop,
  • Have another HSG,
  • Do a low dose of injectible fertility drugs next time, and two insems in the cycle, even though you only have 3 vials left,
  • Their magic potion doesn’t really do much to frozen sperm,
  • Do IVF if that doesn’t work; the cost for our IVF services are between $12-20k. (Probably for us it would be closer to $12k than 20. Still!)

Also, they are “out of network” for my insurance, which means that we’d have to pay 30% instead of 10% while we’re still doing IUIs. Nothing in IVF is covered.

Given all that, I’m not inclined to switch REs. I’m leaning more towards having a consult appointment with my current RE, to ask about switching to injectibles, the HSG issue (not that I want one), etc.

BTW, I think we have achieved weaning. It’s been 3 days, and Noah didn’t even ask to nurse last night while he was hot, flushed, and miserable.

Have I mentioned that I feel HORRIBLE about the fact that less than 48 hours after Noah quit getting my antibodies on an (almost) daily basis, he got sick?

 

Monday nights are Jill’s Automotive Fundamentals class nights, giving me and Noah prime one-on-one time together. This is both good and bad.

The early part of the evening went well. Noah had fun with his choo-choos, he didn’t vigorously resist eating dinner, and he actually ate a good amount of the food on his plate. (All the mac&cheese, most of the chicken, half of the sweet potato, 2 bites of parsnip.)

Noah didn’t even fight getting into the bath, or at least not much. He obviously would rather just run around his room naked, but there were no tears at being lowered into the bathtub.

Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Once I had Noah naked, it occurred to me that now was a good time to satisfy my curiousity about his almost-21-month weight. So I convinced him to follow me into our bathroom, and to get on the scale. Unfortunately, it’s a scale you have to turn on and then stand still on to get a reading, so that didn’t work.

“I’ll just do it the way we did when Noah was a baby!” I thought, picking him up. When I stood on the scale holding Noah, I almost threw up. The number was higher than I ever hit pregnant: 200.5.

I put Noah down, and while he was sprinting for our closet, I got back on the scale: 170. A number I’ve never previously observed outside of pregnancy.

I’m going to start going to swim at the gym at 5:30am 3 mornings/week. (There’s a gym associated with the hospital 5 minutes from our house — not glamorous, but so what?) And I’m going to go handle the paperwork etc this morning, before the RE appointment.

Back to Noah: 30.5 lbs! He’s not my string bean/lollipop kid anymore! That’s somewhere in the 85-90 percentile range. We also unscientifically measured his height last weekend, and it’s roughly 34.5″, or in that same range.

When I started breathing again from the scale shock, I picked Noah up and we headed for the bath. While he was still enjoying splashing and “swimming” and making the choo-choo swim, I noticed a telltale piece of floating debris.

“Noah, are you pooping?”

“No.”

I peered around him. Yes.

Noah reached for the interesting piece of “dirt.”

“Noah! Do NOT touch that dirt!”

“Touch. Dirt!” he repeated, reaching for it.

I scooped him up, grabbing the washcloth to finish wiping. It was an unusually yucky poop, and somehow, he’d also gotten it on his feet.

“Dirt! Dirt! Dirt!” Noah yelled, reaching for the main pile.

“No! Yucky dirt! I answered, holding a squirming, wet, focused, poopy toddler. Thank god he’d tossed the choo-choo out of the tub a few minutes earlier.

For lack of a better idea, the poopy washcloth went back into the tub, and the probably-poopy towel went on the floor. Naked Noah went back into his room, where within 1 minute, he also peed on the carpet, and then began stamping his foot on the peed-on spot.

“Wait, Noah! Put this diaper stuff-in on the pee-pee first, then step on it.” That is, in fact, how I usually first clean up his floor-peeing accidents. Microfiber is amazing stuff.

That marked the end of naked time, much to Noah’s disappointment and frustration. Having a diaper and pjs on is nowhere near as much fun.

Fortunately, the rest of the evening was uneventful. And Noah adorably chose to fall asleep in his big boy bed. For the second night in a row. Without nursing.

 

We had a really relaxing weekend, which was sorely needed. Noah slept in until 7:30 am on Saturday! Then we had fun at our Kindermusic class.

The current class is Sign & Sing, which I think would be more valuable for a younger child, but is still fun, and Noah has started signing — beyond just “more” which he’s been using for well over the last 6 months. But this weekend, Noah also signed duck, car, up, down, and something else in class that I can’t remember. Since class started, he’s also done silly and in, with some reliability. We also have our own sign for veryveryfast, like when Thomas gets attached to a jet engine that accidentally gets turned on.

After class, we hung out with Emily (the teacher), Kathrine (her partner) and Laurel (their 2 year old daughter) until it was time for lunch and a nap. Laurel very generously provided me with all of the stuffed animals for sale and within her reach.

After naptime, Jill and Noah went to get Noah a haircut and to play at the park. Jill spent the evening studying and watching scary movies, while I wandered across the street to watch football (well, to hang out and have a beer) with some of our favorite neighbors.
Sunday, we skipped church and had a lazy morning followed by brunch at Waffle House and a trip to the playground, where we ran into some of other our favorite neighbors. After a super-extra-long nap, we went over to Liam’s house to trash their living room like rock stars play. We even managed to talk them into going out for pizza with us. Noah even scored a cool yellow car, which apparently isn’t as exciting to Liam as it was to Noah.

This is going to be a busy week, since I’m still playing catch-up from my crazy San Diego jaunt, have to sit at my desk and watch a two-day webcast, and tomorrow we have the consult with the new RE. If any of you are scientifically minded (Carrie?) and can suggest intelligent questions to ask about their allegedly magic potion, aka platelet-activating factor, please leave them in the comments!

 

I just finished reading Alternadad by Neal Pollack, and I loved it. It’s my second favorite book about being a parent, after Operating Instructions, by Anne Lamott.

I also have to give credit for my having read this to Shelfari. It caught my eye on Lizzie’s shelf, which contained numerous books I’ve read and loved, so while I was stuck in La Jolla, I found and bought it.

I probably wouldn’t have picked it up if it weren’t for Lizzie’s recommendation. It’s a dad book, for one thing, and the cover features a rubber ducky with a stainless steel bill ring. In my mind, I am just not as hip and cool as that kind of parent — and let’s be honest, my favorite “music” is NPR. Aside from that, I 90% don’t care about what I’m listening to, although I sometimes pretend otherwise.

But it seems that being “alternative” is more complicated than just partying and being ironic and listening to bands in smokey bars. If Pollack and his family are examples, it also includes being politically active in your community, trying to be an informed consumer and to struggle with the compromises that requires, and smoking a lot of marijuana.

I’m not a pot smoker any more than I’m a watch bands in smokey bars person, but I am progressive, moderately active, and I struggle with making consumer choices that are right for my family and what we believe. I’m also good with being ironic. Oh yeah, and I think I automatically get a heaping pile of alternative cred points for being a 2 mom family. ;-) Even if I do look like Jenny of Suburbia.

Here’s what I loved about Alternadad.

Pollack wrote about his family, from meeting his wife, through their decision to move to LA when their son was about 2 years old. I cracked up reading at various moments, including:

Few couples have ever gone into childbirth as educated as Regina and I. We new every possible permutation and were prepared for all of the curves. This just might be the easiest birth in the history of humankind.

I don’t want to ruin anything for you, but if you think an ironic outcome is on it’s way, you are absolutely correct. But don’t worry, everyone is ok in the end.
Another favorite example:

I realized that marriage would mean some concessions. But I didn’t realize I was marrying an adult female Pigpen, a woman who seemed to have a genetic penchant towards sloppy surroundings.

I began to realize that Regina employed an odd household logic. It had only a little bit to do with her not wanting to do chores, because I was more than willing to split the work with her. Slowly, it occurred to me that, for psychological reasons, she really didn’t want things to be clean, that she preferred for things to skirt the near edge of vile before she went on a massive bleach rampage.

Like Operating Instructions, Pollack wrote about the good, the bad, and the ugly. He didn’t whitewash to make himself look good, or his son, or his parents. I don’t think he whitewashed to make his wife look better, but she comes across as the person I’d most want to hang out with in the book, so maybe I’m wrong there. (I wrote that last sentence before deciding to include those quotations, so now I’m thinking he didn’t whitewash her either. Nope.)

In every major decision, every struggle, every argument, you can understand and relate to the difficulty and the final choices. They’re human choices, full of human love and human pain.When people write about their experiences in a way that is true and touches on the universality of being a parent, being married, or trying to pursue their professional & artistic dreams, it doesn’t matter if they are Jenny of Suburbia, the poster boy for hipster fatherhood, or a depressed recovering alcoholic single mother. Almost anyone can still hear himself or herself in their stories.

Pollack is that kind of writer. And if you are a liberal or progressive parent, trying to figure out how to entertain and teach your child without sacrificing your values or giving everything over to the easiest answer, I think you’ll love this book.

Also? Pollack writes a bunch of blogs, so you can decide for yourself whether or not you like his writing style before you buy the hardcover book.

(Aside to Parents.com: You have some great bloggers! But would you mind making it easier to find them and making your links shorter and easier to follow? This is a terrible URL: http://community.parents.com/dgroups/persona.jsp?plckPersonaPage=PersonaBlog&
plckUserId=a628e41865b5c3c340ae2e98f70ccc4f&userId=a628e41865b5c3c340ae2e98f70ccc4f&
ordersrc=rdparents0072&
, why not make them something like http://blogs.parents.com/alternadad or www.parents.com/blogs/twomothers, which I could remember instead of needing to bookmark or google every time. Even if you do have to query a database for each entry, you could return it to that kind of top level URL structure.)

 

Here are just a few things that I am feeling grateful for RIGHT THIS SECOND:

  • Two new beautiful SIGG bottles, so we can carry around our own water or apple juice or milk, creating less waste AND looking mighty stylish at the same time. One is a liter, the other .6 liters, which is roughly 20 oz. I am in love with the smaller one and may start carrying it everywhere I go. And Noah’s smaller one means that we don’t have to worry about the scary chemicals leaking out of certain sippy-cup plastics.
  • Being back home with Jill & Noah, who is now the oldest kid in his day care classroom. (We are sad that his best friend Kaylee has been promoted to the 2 year old room.)
  • Toddler kisses.
  • Frozen pizza, so I didn’t have to think of something to cook tonight, and frozen vegetables, so I don’t have to feel guilty about the pizza.
 

Hi, honey, I’m home!

This has been the second wackiest business trip of my professional career. (None will ever top driving across the United States after September 11. I hope.)

Monday afternoon, the conference organizer sent out an email confirming that we were still having a meeting.

Tuesday morning at around 8:30 am EDT, I got on a plane for San Diego.

Tuesday morning at around 11 am PDT, I smiled at the friendly front desk clerk at the breathtakingly beautiful hotel overlooking the Torrey Pines golf course. And she told me that my conference had been canceled, and did I still want to check in?

Now to be fair, I can see why they canceled it. But man do I wish they would have done that BEFORE I spent 5.5 hours on the plane.

Those fires are no joke. The air was thick and gray and hazy, you could taste the tang of smoke from inside the airport, everyone who worked outside, like the car rental guys, wore dust filtering face masks.

My hotel room could not have been more than ~2000 yards from the Pacific ocean, and I couldn’t see it. I could see where the grass ended, and then everything was murky and gray.

Most of the people in the hotel were families, clearly having evacuated from their homes further east in the San Diego area. There were so many children and dogs; you could see that people’s cars were filled with pictures and other important possessions.

I called and got my return flight changed from 6:30 am on Friday to 6:30 am today.

Because the air quality was so awful, people were advised to stay indoors if at all possible. I did, for at least the next 3 hours. By then I was thoroughly sick of daytime television, my hand was cramping from my recent efforts to remember how to knit, and I had to get the hell out of my hotel room.

So I found a bookstore online in “downtown” La Jolla, which was only a few miles due south, and hopped into the car. On the way, I took a bunch of pictures, including of insane people surfing near UCSD. I also had dinner at a Karl Strauss brewery — an order of chicken nachos that would have been more appropriate for a table of 4. (It does seem like everyone in the world wants you to eat fish tacos in the greater San Diego metro area. Unfortunately, I don’t like fish.)

Between wandering expensive but cute downtown La Jolla and eating dinner, I managed to kill about 3 hours. Then I went back to the hotel and crashed around 7:30 pm local time. Having set my alarm for 3:30 am, to make sure I had lots of time to make it to my 6:30 am flight.

Tomorrow, I’ll try to sync my cell phone to my computer at work and post the crazy pictures of the sky, the ocean, and the sunset in San Diego. (Much particulate matter in the air = spectacular sunset.) Happily, I have no actual fire pictures. That would have been way too scary.

 

Tomorrow morning around this time, I’ll be getting on the subway to go to the airport. To go to San Diego, where I will be until Friday morning. Without Jill and Noah.

Denial is probably the reason I haven’t written about this here until now.

I have this work conference, which I’m actually excited about, but I’m also nervous about leaving them. (Should help with the weaning issue, though.)

Any suggestions for making this easier? On me, or Jill, or Noah?

Any suggestions for where I should have dinner Tuesday night?

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