February 17, 2007

1 in 166

It’s Saturday night and I’m watching The Parent Trap for the three hundredth time (Linday Lohan was much cuter ten years ago, and also significantly less slutty). Fortunately for you, I have a new piece up at mamazine.com:

Diagnosing mental disorders, including autism, in children is tricky work. Bipolar disorder will often present as ADHD; Asperger’s and NLD share a long list of specific traits; giftedness often mirrors autism. We need better diagnostic criteria, in order to clearly establish what it is that makes kids like John and Rebecca and Henry different from their peers. We need better strategies for helping those kids, better structures in our school systems and better support for families. We need to know more about the medications that are being prescribed to help these kids, and we need to be certain that the medication is used for the benefit of the CHILD and not to make things easier for the adults who are raising them.

Beats the hell out of The Parent Trap, although Dennis Quaid is kind of hot.

February 16, 2007

transition free, much like my day

Charlie woke up at three am with a fever, despite the fact that he had JUST FINISHED a ten day course of antibiotics for last week’s ear infection. Literally–he had his last serving of Omnicef (guaranteed to kill all germs within ten feet of your child!*) right before bed time.

On the way in to my parent-teacher conference at Charlie’s school, as I was patting myself on the back for being on time even though I hadn’t slept or showered, I slipped on some ice and fell on my ass. And my ankle. Smooth. Also, painful!

At lunch, in between the ordering of the food and the actual arrival of the food, Charlie put his head in my lap and moaned, “Mama, my EARS HURT.” I think I ate my sandwich; I brought Charlie’s entire pizza home.

Wade called me at 2:00 to say “I’ve been in meetings since seven thirty this morning,” and I said “ASK ME WHERE I AM. GO AHEAD! ASK ME! I’M AT THE PEDIATRICIAN’S OFFICE! AGAIN!!!” He was thrilled.

Charlie doesn’t have an ear infection OR strep throat OR the flu; he just has a virus. I promised Christa that if either of her girls wakes up at three am with a fever, I will PERSONALLY come and take care of them. At three am. I’m turning our phones off when I go to bed, just in case.

As we were sitting in the pediatrician’s office, in between the strep culture (Q-tip in throat) and the flu culture (Q-tip in nose) I realized that we’d had almost the exact same trip to the doctor two years ago. Except that time, I wrote coherent sentences at the end of the day.

I stopped to pick up coffee on my way back to Christa’s, because it seemed like the least I could do to thank her for keeping my germ-infested kid. On the way to the car, I spilled my coffee on my hand. I wiped it up with my sleeve, because OF COURSE I was going home to shower and get dressed. That was eleven hours ago. I’m still wearing the same fleece pullover. With the coffee on it.

*No, not really.

Saturday Morning update: HENRY HAS IT TOO! He woke up this morning running a fever.

Dammit.

February 15, 2007

can you feel the love?

Wade: People at work kept asking what I was getting you for Valentine’s Day.

Me: Did you say NEW BRAKES?

Wade: No, I said, “I just give her my credit card number and say ‘Buy yourself something nice at J. Crew, honey.’” Oh wait, you ALREADY DO THAT.

Me: HEY! I use my own credit card for that!

Wade: Uh huh.

Me: And I pay the bill myself, too!

Wade: Uh huh.

Me: Mostly.

Wade: Uh huh.

Me: You should have said, “I got her new brakes! And a new battery!” Because THAT’S romantic.

Wade: Sure. “Here you go, honey, five hundred dollars worth of car repair!”

Me: It wasn’t that much.

Wade: How much was it?

Me: Less than that.

Wade: Eh, whatever. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Me: You too, sweetie.

February 14, 2007

Happy Valentine’s Day! I think I’m dying!

I’m sick. You can’t really be too surprised to hear that, after last week’s germ festival, but still, it’s annoying. I desperately want to lie down and sleep, but unfortunately those pesky children have other ideas.

I did sleep for a couple of hours while the boys were at school; when the alarm went off, I snapped up and couldn’t figure out for the life of me where I was or what was going on. That’s always fun.

Tonight we’re going out for a romantic family dinner at Panera, after the boys and I pick Wade up at work. I have his car today because mine is in the shop, getting an oil change. And new rear brakes. And a new battery, because this morning when the mechanic went to move it from the parking lot to the garage bay, it wouldn’t start. At least it had the decency to die AT the garage and not in MY garage. Which would really have sucked.

I wish I could describe for you what exactly my sickness consists of (because I know you’re dying to hear), but it’s really just a persistent sense of malaise. And sleepiness. And my skin hurts, which is incredibly irritating. Molly called today, about something else, and when I moaned, “I’m SIIIIIICK,” she said, “Are your eyes goopy? Does your ear hurt?” And then she laughed.

Fortunately, no, that’s not what I have. Because that’s gross. Also, I don’t have the stomach flu, which is REALLY gross. I just have some boring generic sickness that makes my skin hurt.

Charlie came home from school with a huge bag of Valentine-related treats, which on any other day I would have totally raided. I’m sure Henry has something stashed in his school bag, too, and he doesn’t like candy, so he’s a good source for snacks. But I feel too crappy for chocolate even.

God that’s sad. I feel too sick to eat chocolate.