I thought mean girls emerged in Jr. High!

Someone is bullying my daughter and I want it to stop. Now.

This girl is an evil mastermind. She personally hasn't said or done anything to L. She gets other kids to do it. L's friends. Even her best friend, who then felt so bad about it that she told her mom (which is how I found out that this is happening). L's best friend told her mom of at least 3 other girls who were being encouraged to tease L about a physical characteristic that she is sensitive about.

When I talked to L about it, she sobbed because she was so upset this was happening and seemed relieved that I knew about it and would step in to try and make things better.

So, even though I wanted to run right over to the school and pound this little brat on the head, I instead did the appropriate thing and called the school counselor to talk about it. (This is the same counselor I talked to two years ago and I felt like she did absolutely nothing to fix the problem. But that was a different situation and I have hope that this blatant bullying will provoke a response.)

I found out about this Wednesday evening. I called the counselor on Thursday morning. I heard back from her on Friday. I told her that I didn't understand the details and recommended that she talk to the friend's mom to get the full story about the girl who was getting other girls to say mean things to L. She thanked me for letting her know and told me she'd follow up on the situation. She's not at school on Monday. She finally talked to L today. Almost a week later.

I asked L how it went and what the counselor is planning to do. L told me that the counselor told her that she has two choices: L can talk to her friend about it and tell her it hurt her feelings or she can let it go and try to forget about it.

WHAT? This seems like a fine solution if it were just that her friend made a mean comment to her. I understand the concept of talking it out or just deciding something's not worth the trouble and just getting on with life. And if this were just between these two friends, I'd agree with this strategy. But this isn't that! I called the friend's mom this evening. The counselor didn't even talk to the mom to get the story, as I suggested. These two girls, who have been best friends since Kindergarten (now in 4th grade), are being manipulated by this outside force, this evil genius who seems bent on cutting others down for her personal enjoyment.

I don't know what to do. A week after the fact, L seems ok with the forgive and forget option offered to her by the counselor. Do I need to let it go now? Or do I need to continue to pursue this so that mean girl learns she can't continue to be mean girl?

Compliance

Lately I've been thinking a lot about how health care workers perceive their patients. Particularly the undesirable ones, the ones we blame for being sick. I know we do it; I'm guilty of it. The heart failure patient who is readmitted a few times a month when her edema becomes so severe she has difficulty breathing but who doesn't take her medication because it makes her pee too often. The asthmatic patient frequently seen in the emergency room for shortness of breath who refuses to get rid of the cat he's severely allergic to. The diabetic patient whose family smuggles donuts to him WHILE HE'S STILL IN THE HOSPITAL. I get so frustrated! If these patients would only be COMPLIANT!!!

But look at all these examples: Would you want to take medication if you knew you were going to have to get up 3 times in the night to pee? What about the cat who is the asthmatic patient's only companion? Would you say good-bye to your best friend just because a doctor told you to? Even the diabetic patient who eats donuts while still in the hospital and seems to be the most self-defeating of all: How would you feel if you contracted a disease that meant you had to completely change your way of eating and give up most of the foods you derive pleasure from?

But we get frustrated, blame them for not changing, send them home, and groan when we see them come through the doors again.

In nursing school we were taught to continue telling these patients that they need to change their ways. Even if they've already heard the same words over and over, we're told that "if we continue to repeat the message, maybe one day they'll get it." Does anyone really think that any of these patients are going to wake up one day and say "Gee, maybe I should _________ like my doctor/nurse/nutritionist told me and then I'll get healthy."

Every time I go to the dentist, the hygienist tells me I need to floss. I've been receiving regular dental care since I was a child and have been told this at every dental appointment for over 30 years. I know I need to floss. I don't hate flossing. I just never think to do it. I leave every dental appointment with good intentions; somehow this time will be different. Not once has a hygienist offered me any practical solutions to get into the habit of flossing. When I ask for suggestions, I'm met with "You just have to do it." I'm sincere in my desire to become a flossing person. It's just that no one has ever guided me in developing this habit and I can't seem to figure it out on my own. To the hygienist, I must appear like a lost cause, a very noncompliant patient.

Maybe no one has come alongside all those noncompliant patients and helped them solve their unique problem that would help them manage their chronic illness. What if Heart Failure had her dose adjusted so that she was taking her medication at intervals throughout the day and her fluid was restricted close to bedtime? Perhaps she could sleep through the night AND maintain an appropriate fluid balance. Asthma could be assisted in finding a new home for his companion where he could continue to visit when his disease is well-managed. Diabetes could be reassured that an appropriate change in diet doesn't mean that he can never have a donut again; a home visit with a nutritionist where his lifestyle and personal preferences are considered and a personal nutritional plan is developed could go a long way to helping him make sound nutritional choices more often.

That's not how we do things, though. We print out the generic heart failure/asthma/diabetes home-care instructions, circle a couple important points and say good-bye to the patient--until the next admission.

This is not the kind of nurse I want to be. Instead of reminding the patient that they need to make changes, I want to come alongside them, discuss barriers to health-enhancing behaviors, and help my patients overcome those barriers. Nagging doesn't work. Let's get down in the trenches with our patients and help them find a way to be healthier.

Now I need to go floss.

Warning! I'm in a pissy, whiny mood and feeling quite sorry for myself.

Last night I went to see a movie with my sister. State of Play, a political thriller. About 15 minutes into the movie, just as the congressman and the journalist meet face to face for the first time, I had to leave to use the bathroom. (That's the polite way of saying that my stomach hurt bad and I knew I had only a short time to make it to the restroom.) I returned to the theater about 10 minutes later but knew better than to sit down as I would probably have to leave again. This time I was able to stay for about 5 minutes, long enough to learn that two apparently unrelated characters had a connection to each other. Looking like a really great movie. But I wouldn't know because I spent most of the first 45 minutes of it in the bathroom, gripped by severe abdominal pain and pooping liquid.

I should have known this might happen and not even tried to go to a movie, especially not one that requires you to actually watch the whole thing to know what's happening. I know that I need to sit on the aisle in case I need to get up to leave. I gauge how I feel before I take my dog for a walk that will take me far from the nearest bathroom.

No, I don't have colitis or IBS. What I have is the side effects of a medication that is supposed to regulate my blood sugar. It doesn't appear to be having any effects on anything except my bowel.

I have diabetes and right now I'm really pissed about that! I'm doing the things I should to control my blood sugar but it continues to climb. So my doctor added in the dread drug that causes the diarrhea, metformin. I've taken it before and stopped because frankly, it's difficult to swallow a pill you know will likely give you severe diarrhea and associated cramping. Usually the side effects pass, but never completely. I've been back on this medication for about 3 weeks and the diarrhea is subsiding. A bit. I leave in 4 days on a roadtrip with my daughter. I'm intending to continue taking the medication while I'm gone but I'm not sure how practical that will be. I'll have to see how it goes. I really want to be "compliant" with my treatment plan to see if it makes any difference in the numbers at my next check in 2 months.

I think I wouldn't mind the side effects so much if I thought my numbers were improving. But, each time I poke my finger, I see little, if any, difference in the number staring back at me. But I keep taking the diarrhea pill in the vain hope that when I go back in a couple months, I'll see a difference in the number that matters, the A1C (a measure of blood sugar control over the past 3 months). I'm specifically trying to not make any other changes to my lifestyle that may affect my blood sugar during these 3 months; I want to know if the metformin actually has any effect on my blood sugar. If the number improves, I want to know it's from the medication, not assume that but know it could be related to dietary changes or increases in exercise. If metformin doesn't do anything positive for me, there's no sense in putting up with the side effects, right?

Back to the movie: My sister graciously suggested that we leave when I finally returned to my seat. I had missed too much to ever figure out what was going on. We stopped at the customer service desk and got a refund. I'd like to try again. But I'm afraid the same thing will happen again. I guess I'll just wait for video.

(I warned you I was feeling sorry for myself!)

20 Years Ago - June 7, 1989

Today I drove my mom to the cemetery where my dad is buried. Strangely, there was little emotion surrounding the day for me. I was actually more interested in looking at the gravestones of other long-gone family members and the names of people from the small town where I grew up.

He's been gone for 20 years. She kept saying, "Wow. Twenty years goes by fast." It does and it doesn't. I can remember the events of that day as clearly as if they had happened last month. On the other hand, in that time I have gotten married, obtained two college degrees, and become a mother. The world has seen two Bushes, a Clinton, and Obama as President, two wars in Iraq, and a rise in global terror. Organic food has become mainstream and the Mariners went to the playoffs 4 times (Dad didn't live to see them even have a winning season).

June 7, 1989. He was 43. My parents had been married not-quite 23 years. I was 19. I've now been without a dad for more than half my life. I'll catch up with him in a few years. Mom has lived as much time without him since he died as she did before they were married. In a few more years, she'll have lived as a widow longer than as a married woman.

These are just the numbers. There is so much more to say that I just don't have the energy for today. About the words and the voice etched into my mind forever telling me that he had died; losing my mom when a part of her died that day; never getting to know my dad from the perspective of an adult; watching my 7-year-old sister grow instantly into a little adult, thinking she was responsible for caring for my mom. The list could go on. I hope I have the energy over the next couple of weeks to write about these things and others.

But for today, I'll just note that it's been 20 years.

Remembering

A friend's blog entry about Memorial Day left me with tears in my eyes.

On a trip to Europe while in high school, I visited the American Cemetery in Luxembourg. At the time, I was mainly impressed with the way all the headstones lined up and that Patton was buried there.

Now, just thinking about the cemetery brings tears to my eyes. I think of the young soldiers who gave their lives to protect my freedom. I think of the families who received a visit to their door or a telegram telling them they'd never see their son/husband/brother again. The bodies that lie below the headstones in Luxembourg were buried across the world from their homes.

20+ years ago, when I saw the symmetrical lines of the headstones, I was reminded of orchard plantings. Now whenever I see an orchard, I can't help but think of lines of crosses, each representing a fallen soldier. I try not to take their (and their families') sacrifices for granted. One day a year hardly seems enough to honor these heroes.

Happy Anniversary!

A year ago yesterday was my first blog post. I started blogging hoping to escape crippling depression. For most of the year, I blogged occassionally, when the whim struck.

I'm not stable on my antidepressant and would say that I'm no longer clinically depressed. By no stretch of the imagination am I always happy. But that's to do with real feelings, not chemicals misfiring in my brain.

So happy anniversary to me and my blog. I'll keep writing and see if I can't find more happy days than sad.

Wired

I am sitting at Starbucks, connected to wireless, listening to my iPod, with my cell phone sitting on the table next to my computer. Since sitting less than 10 minutes ago, I have checked my phone for new email and texts (I've received both in that time), updated my facebook status, and checked the weather forecast.

One of my favorite bloggers posted today about the drain that she is feeling from the influence of technology. I saw myself in her post much more than I care to admit. These devices that can be such aids to daily life are becoming the master rather than the assistant.

It doesn't seem that long ago when only a few people had cell phones. Or when AT&T came out with a cordless phone giving you power to wander around the house while talking on the phone. And phones with actual DIALS! Heck, I can remember when everyone had a party line. Anyone else remember party lines? When I went to college, only the rich kids had computers and no one had email. Who, other than a few computer geeks, had heard of the Internet? Now my (supervised) 9-year old has a computer, an email account, and a blog.

What a would an unwired existence look like in today's technology-filled world? (I don't mean wireless--everything is wireless these days!) Do we really need instant access to everything? What would happen if I turned off my cell phone for a day? Didn't look at facebook for a week? didn't check my email ever again? I don't know how to untangle myself from this addiction. Like Midlife Midwife, I feel like a slave to the technology.

It's a double-edged sword. The convenience of instant information makes life easy. Today I registered my daughter for summer camps, paid bills, and read the New York Times online. This was much easier than doing things the un-wired way: stamps, phone calls, newsprint on my hands. Technology is such a time-saver, right? Except that when I was done doing these things, instead of doing something productive, I headed over to facebook to catch up with some friends and followed link after link until I realized that what was supposed to be a quick look at facebook had turned into two hours of mindless surfing. I only stopped because it was time to get L from school.

Carrying my phone with me means I'm available in an emergency. It also means that people can reach me wherever I am, even if it's not an emergency. I recently stopped wearing a watch when the battery ran out and I decided not to replace it. I like the feeling of not being as time-bound. A large part of me wishes that I could simply not recharge my cell phone the next time the battery runs out.

For better or worse, these devices are here to stay. I know I won't stop paying bills or registering for camp online. Nor will I stop carrying my cell phone whenever I'm away from my daughter. But I hope this awareness of how technology is taking over my time will help me to put technology back in its rightful place: my assistant instead of my master.

Sick? Or Tired?

Today when I picked L up from school, she told me she wasn’t feeling well, like she was going to throw up. Tuesday is ballet class day. There’s only 3 weeks left before the dance spring performance and her entire class will be effected if any of them miss practicing together. Missing class today was not an option, unless she was truly sick. We have about 45 minutes at home before we have to leave to get to ballet class. So we went home and I fixed her favorite snack and had her change into her leotard and fix her hair. I proceeded as though we were going no matter what. Of course, by the time it was time to leave, she had eaten her entire snack and was bouncing around the living room. When I asked her if she was feeling better, she said “I still feel like I’m going to throw up.” I figured that a bouncy, hungry girl was just fine to send to ballet.

This incident brings up a few issues for me.

• Why is it that she seems to not feel well every Tuesday afternoon? She seems to love ballet and has plenty of friends she only sees at ballet class. But she never seems to not be feeling well on Thursday afternoon, the day she has tap class. Does this mean that she doesn’t like ballet? Earlier in the year mentioned that it was getting hard. I told her that’s because she’s getting better and she’s going to be learning harder and harder things.
• I get to decide when I feel like/want to go to my classes. This week I’ve been fighting a nasty cold and I got bit on the hand by my dog. The day after the dog bite, I didn’t go to Pilates because I was still in a lot of pain and didn’t think I could do the arm work that involves holding a strap. Because there is an 18-hour cancellation policy at the Pilates studio, I already cancelled my class for tomorrow morning because I’m not sure how I’ll be feeling tomorrow morning. I suppose I can go anyway if I wake up in the morning and feel okay. Would I have cancelled these classes if I held myself to the same standard I hold L to?
• When I told L she had to go unless she actually threw up, she called me the worst mom in the world. I’m used to such pronouncements so this didn’t bother me. Is there any way to help her see that I don’t make these decisions willy-nilly? Two weeks ago during her ice-skating lesson, she fell and hit her head hard. She came off the ice crying. I immediately helped her out of her skates and hurried her to the car, where I called our doctor to see if she needed to be evaluated in the emergency room. The next week, she fell again, this time landing on her hip. Again, she came off the ice crying. These tears were different, less urgent. I comforted her for a few minutes before sending her back out on the ice. A man who doesn’t know us well said something to the effect of me being a hard-ass to make her go back out. Another mom who knows us through skating defended me saying that she was fine this week, whereas the week before she wasn’t necessarily fine. Somehow my mom intuition tells me when things are serious and when it’s time to “buck up” and keep going. Today seemed to be a “buck up” kind of day.
  

I’m sitting in the car outside the dance studio, watching the class. L is bouncing around and smiling with her friends. She seems to be feeling just fine. After class, I’ll ask her if she’s glad she went. I’m pretty sure she will be.

Biting the Hand That Feeds You

My very loving and playful dog just bit me. She didn't mean to. We were playing tug and she went for a better hold on the toy, missed the toy and chomped down on my hand. Hard. She immediately jumped back and laid on the floor. So now I'm trying to type with an ice pack on my hand. It's not working well. I had planned to spend lots of time writing tonight. Instead I think I'll watch a Hallmark Channel movie in bed. It really hurts!

Cookbook Challenge

I need a challenge. NEED might be a bit strong. WANT might be better.

Earlier today I was reading the NY Times Food Blog, "Bitten," a blog I catch up on from time to time when I want to be inspired about good food that is within the reach of the home cook.

As so often happens when "surfing," I followed links until I found one that caught my attention and made me want to act. The Bread Baker's Apprentice Challenge will take challengers through every recipe in Peter Reinhart's cookbook of the same title. The date of the entry was about a week and a half ago and I immediately made plans to run out and get the book so I can join the challenge.

Then I read the next post. The challenge is closed to new participants. I know I can still do the challenge on my own but I think I'm less likely to actually complete the challenge if I don't have a group of people I'm accountable to, who will follow a schedule and keep my on task.

I still want to do this. Perhaps I'll find another group to join. Maybe there will be a "shadow group" of folks who found the challenge too late to join. Or maybe I'll start it on my own and post my progress here, to the blog that nobody reads. Make an attempt at being the self-starter that I aspire to be.

So I'm off to the bookstore to peruse the baking section. I'll take a look at The Bread Baker's Apprentice and see if it looks doable in my kitchen and with my willpower. After all, I've (mostly) managed to keep the commitment I've made to myself about taking a picture each day. And I'm trying to give this blog thing a real go. So baking bread isn't out of the realm of possibility, right?

In the Land of the Alpine Mood Swings

L is a nine-year-old girl. One minute I'm her best friend and the best thing going in her life. The next minute, I'm the enemy, the cause of everything bad that has ever and may ever happen to her. I usually do a good job of remembering that I'm the grown-up and respond like I don't care. Of course I respond if she's destructive or disrespectful. Part of my responsibility as a parent is to help her learn appropriate ways to weather the ups and downs of daily life that she feels so accutely right now.

I've learned to (mostly) let these moments roll off my back like water on a duck. It doesn't always work. Sometimes she says hurtful words that break through the grown-up exterior and wound me. If she hurts me deeply, she sees me cry. She is learning that her actions can cause pain in other people, even if there are no visible wounds. The few times she's driven me to tears, she's completely taken aback at my response. Nothing stops her tantrum faster than me crying. I don't cry to get her to stop. Quite the opposite; I feel like if I cry she wins, as much as if I had given in to a demand to buy candy in the check-out line to stop her crying as a toddler (which, by the way, I never did. I have a very strong will and would rather have her throw a tantrum in the middle of the grocery store in front of strangers than give in to a demand.)

The thing that amazes me about all this is that when she's not stomping off to slam the door over the drama of the day, she's friendly and cooperative. She voluntarily cleans her room. This morning she even thanked me for making her a yummy lunch every day. She wants to have cuddles and hugs at home and tells me how I'm the best mom ever.

It must be hard to inhabit the body with these drastic mood swings. Sometimes in the middle of a tantrum or crying fit, she'll tell me she's not sure why she's acting this way or why she can't stop crying. I think she genuinely doesn't want to act this way! So I do my best to help her navigate out of the terrible moments. I encourage her to stop and "hit the reset button." I calmly remind her about consequences of tantrums and how out of hand she got the last time.

But sometimes I yell back and then feel horrible about my reaction. "After all," I tell myself, "I'm supposed to be the grown up." Sometimes I just don't feel like the grown up. And sometimes I don't act like the grown up. But I think we're growing up together, she and I. We'll make it through this and hopefully, we'll remain close on the other side.

You Say It's Your Birthday?

Happy Birthday to me!

I love birthdays! More than then New Year's Day, it's the time that I set my goals and experience a sense of renewal. I put the previous year, with all its achievements and mistakes, behind me and plan for the next year.

Today I turn 39. Which means that this is a big year for me with the goals. Next year is a "0" year so long-term goals already exist. For some reason I don't have my goals for 40 written down anywhere so I'll have to do my best to remember them. But not here. They're too personal to put out into the blogosphere.

So what did I do last year?

• I am stable on my anti-depressant medications. I feel like myself and like I have normal emotions. I'm not happy all the time, nor am I sad all the time. I feel pretty normal and that feels pretty great.
• My dog died a few months ago. She was an amazing creature who demonstrated sensitivity in all her interactions with people. I miss her deeply. I think I have never loved an animal like I loved her.
• Barack Obama was elected president! 'Nuff said.
• I'm glad to no longer be working at the clinic I recently left. I had been there for 3 years, including 2 years working part time. It's time to move on. April 29 was my last day. Maybe I'll write more about this later.
• I traveled extensively in the US, mainly with my daughter. I went to 8 states that I had previously not visited.
• I was initiated into PEO, a sisterhood that raises money to support education for women (and has a great time together in the process). I immediately gained a cadre of friends who will support me and love me through whatever life brings.
• I lost 20+ pounds. As a side-effect of my medication cocktail, I lost interest in eating and gained the ability to stop eating when I'm approaching full. I leave more food on my plate than I eat. Don't get me wrong, I'm eating plenty to sustain myself and am not losing weight at a dangerous pace. The weight loss has stabilized and I'm once again interested in food. Now I just stop when I'm full and hope that the weight doesn't creep back on.
• I am paying more attention to my body. I started taking Pilates and am finding other ways to take care of my body. I still need to do more to take care of myself but that goes under the "goals for next year" section.

So, what does the coming year hold for me?

• More travel. At least a little bit. L and I are setting out on another road trip the day school gets out for the summer. No new states this time, but anticipating a great time with my daughter and reaquainting with friends we will see while on our trip.
• Better saving and economic awareness. So far the economic downturn hasn't really affected our family. My husband's company's earnings are down a bit from last year but we're doing fine financially. However, when I reviewed our taxes last month, I realized that we don't save nearly enough money, nor do we given away nearly enough money. I want to be a better steward of our resources.
• It's time for me to get serious about getting going on the next step in my career. I have declared a long-term goal and if I'm going to achieve it I need to work toward it. So tomorrow the work begins with a phone call to the grad school I plan to apply to.
• I'm tired of living in clutter. I think I declare this every year but this year I have no excuse for not getting something done about it. I no longer have an external work schedule to use as an excuse for not downsizing and cleaning. Maybe it's time to make an internal work schedule to treat housekeeping like the job it should be.
• Continue taking care of my body. The weight loss and Pilates has been a good start but I need to go further in taking care of myself. I need to better monitor my chronic health conditions and take the steps to be working toward overall better health.
• Mother/Daughter time. Both with my own mother and with my daughter. My mom is aging and I tend to try to pretend she's not. I need to help her make good decisions about her health. My daughter is at an age when she is torn between seeking independence and wanting to stay my little girl. I need to be sensitive to her needs, let her know I'm a safe place for her to share, help her identify others who are safe harbors for the times she feels she can't confide in me, and help her find her learn to be independent while remaining safe. No small task, that.

I think that's plenty to put on my list of goals for now. Oh, yeah. I also want to develop the discipline of daily writing.

Now it's time to head off to my birthday dinner. Happy Birthday to me!

Happy Mother's Day!

I just returned from my Sunday morning Pilates class and have been ordered back to bed. Time to experience an official rite of motherhood: "Breakfast in Bed on Mother's Day." I'm not sure I grasp the appeal of eating in bed but I definitely appreciate the love behind the gesture. From my comfortable perch, propped up against pillows in my comfortable bed, I can hear the clanging of dishes and the smell of burning pancakes. L and her dad are working hard to prepare my special breakfast. I can hardly wait!

Review Session

An old friend has an admirable discipline of writing a blog entry daily. I want to do that. I get such clarity from writing (even if what I write isn't clear to anyone else!) that I think I need to make it into a daily discipline. I think the discipline part would be easier if I knew that others expect me to write, so I'm going to go a bit more public and be a bit more intentional in my writing.

In anticipation that people I know or admire might actually read what I've written, I reviewed all my past entries to see if anything needed to be taken down. I edited a few entries and removed a few--some were just too much of me on the page and I don't want to be that vulnerable.

In reviewing my past entries, a couple things struck me.

1. I started this blog almost a year ago. In that time, I've written occassionally with no particular focus. I started writing to try to work through some of my depression issues, which are mostly resolved now (via chemicals and good self-care).
2. There are many things I wrote about that I need to follow-up on. I wrote about voting day but not the amazing experience of being with my daughter and many of her friends and their moms on inauguration day. I wrote in anticipation of my dog dying but haven't been able to write about her death and how my family is dealing with it.
3. I want to write about random things that interest me, from healthcare reform to recipes. I don't know have a focus for this blog, which may be my undoing if I want readership. I just want to be able to look back on it in a year and see a chronicle of my life and what I was thinking.

So here I go. Am I really going to commit to writing daily for a year? I'm certainly going to try!

The Flu and Girl Scout Camp

The mom in me wants L to have a fun time at Girl Scout camp this weekend. The wife in me is looking forward to a weekend away without the kid. The nurse in me is terrified that I'm going to look back on this weekend as a bad idea: hundreds of kids with a tenuous grip on handwashing and basic sanitary care, together for a weekend at the beginning of what is potentially a pandemic flu.

Many of my friends and family seem to think that this is all a big media hype that has gotten out of control. I hope they're right. However, I don't think so. I trust the CDC and the WHO to look out for public health in a way that my mind can't begin to grasp. If the best epidimiologists in the world are one step away from declaring pandemic, I'm all for stopping it now by putting everyone into quarantine. I've already heard parents making jokes about the school year going long and having to make up "virus days" because of school closures. Close the schools if necessary. I'd rather send my daughter to school all summer than risk her or any of her friends dying for fear of making up a virus day in the summer!

Maybe everyone has a point: maybe it's all a big overreaction. After all, only about 200 people in THE WORLD have died from this so far. Thousands of people die from the flu every year, right? So what makes this different? The high hospitalization and fatality rate. Only about 200 people have died but only about 500 have been diagnosed. That's about a 40% fatality rate. Not a number I'm interested in gambling with. And the people that are dying aren't the ones who die from the flu: the victims were healthy and not in high-risk groups of elderly and infant and immune-compromised. So PLEASE! OVERREACT!!!

The thing is, if the public health officials order these measures before the country/world has had a chance to panic, they will be called fools and everyone will say how much they overreacted. There will be congressional inquiries and agency heads fired for the perceived overreaction. But what the public sees as overreaction will likely just mean that the measures worked; that the epidemic was stopped before it became a pandemic. Good public health policy is rarely applauded. Bad public health policy costs lives.

I don't want to fiddle while Rome burns. I hope our society doesn't turn a deaf ear to what the experts are telling us. If we listen and their prevention measures work and the flu doesn't develop, I hope society doesn't ridicule the leaders who are potentially saving us from global pandemic.

So, while I desperately want the romantic weekend with my husband, I would completely understand, and even applaud, a brave (though some may say rash) decision to close the camp for the weekend.

I changed my mind. The mom in me desperately hopes she's not making a mistake sending her daughter off to camp this weekend. Maybe the mom and the nurse are the same person, after all. Now if I could just do something to appease the wife part . . .

Pilates Update

I've been doing Pilates for over a month now and I'm settling into a routine. I'll admit that one of the things that still pulls me out bed in the early morning is the self-righteous feeling I get from being the kind of person who gets up for an exercise class that starts at 6 a.m. But another part of me just REALLY likes the way I feel. My body is getting stronger and I feel like I'm doing something good for my body when I go to Pilates class. When I miss a class, I'm disappointed for myself, not afraid that I'm letting down the instructor or that I'm not able to live up the new label of "exerciser" that I strive for.

The first intro series that I signed up for finishes at the end of this week. I'm trying to figure out how I can add in another class or two each week. I really DO like this stuff!

Pilates and Cupcakes, The Sequel

The Pilates Part
I pulled myself out of bed and made it to Pilates at 5:58 this morning. It was definitely the "I'm so self-righteous that there's no way I'm not going to class this morning" thing that got me out of bed. Saturday's class is at 10. I think I can manage that. The next real test will come Tuesday morning when it's up before the birds again.

(Did I mention that I can feel muscles I didn't know I had?)

The Cupcake Part
I took my mom to my favorite cupcake place today. I was busy photographing my cupcake so didn't notice her method. I looked up to see this:

Look familiar? I apparently learned my cupcake consuming method from my mother.

Pilates and Cupcakes

The Pilates Part
This morning I started a Pilates class. At 6 a.m.! I don’t usually do mornings. Particularly not for exercise. Yet, to my amazement and the amazement of all who know me, I pulled myself out of bed this morning at 5:15 and was out of the house by 5:30, dressed with my hair and teeth brushed.

It’s about 2 p.m. now. Throughout the day I’ve felt myself walking a bit taller and feeling a bit self-righteous. After all, I’m now the kind of person who gets up before the birds to exercise. I hope the push of self-righteousness lasts long enough for this to become a habit. The next test comes Thursday morning, a mere 39 hours from now.



The Cupcakes Part
Eating cupcakes takes the form of a ritual for me. I set the cupcake on the plate and pause to admire it. Often I whip out my camera and take a picture, even if I already have many similar photos of similar cupcakes. Next I carefully (so as not to smudge the icing) pick it up and remove the paper wrapper from the stump. I then remove the top from the stump and set it gently on the plate, still careful not to disturb the icing. Then I eat the stump, breaking off bite-size pieces, never taking a bite directly from the stump. When the stump is gone and my coffee is about half finished (I did mention that a cupcake should be accompanied by coffee, didn’t I?), I finally take a bite of the top. Carefully, so as to leave the icing as intact as possible until the last bit finds its way into my mouth.

I’m not sure if this excruciating method signifies my deep affection for cupcakes or just offers a glimpse into my disturbed obsessive-compulsive mind. Whatever the reason for my ritual, it’s a ritual I look forward to. I wonder if I would like cupcakes as much if I didn’t care how they are eaten?

Age Appropriate?

My dog is going to die soon. I can’t stop crying about it every time I think about it. Is it wrong of me to cry more for my elderly dog than I did for my grandparents? I’ve had my dog for 7 years. She was 7 ½ when I got her from the Australian Shepherd Rescue. Her previous owner had died and she was in need of a new forever home.

My breed research told me that I could expect her to live until she was around 12, giving me 5 years with her. I calculated how hold my then 1-year-old daughter would be and decided that 6 was an ok time to lose a first pet.

My daughter will be 9 next week. I’ll be 39 in two months. There’s no good age to lose a pet.

Me Time

L went back to school yesterday after an unexpectedly long (due to snow days from school) Christmas break. I spent yesterday putting away Christmas and putting the house back in order. Today is all about me!

After almost three weeks of nearly constantly being in someone else’s presence and being responsible for things that others need from me, it’s nice to make my own decisions. I took a nap after dropping L at school this morning. After my rest, I joined a friend for a leisurely lunch. Followed by a walk in blustery weather, taking pictures for my new photo project.