Work

Take a Deep Breath

by Mary on March 29, 2011

A goodly amount of crap has happened in the Flashlight household since the end of last year. A lot of time, I’ve just been paralyzed by the drama. Now that it seems to be (mostly) resolved, I may be able to write coherently about it.

Back when I was in the hospital in November/December, one of the things they told me was that they “caught sight of something in my lung” when they did the scan of my abdomen. “Probably nothing,” they said. “We’ll check it again in four months.” Cue me, worrying. Because we’ve certainly been told “probably nothing” about other issues that have turned out to be Something.

Also, when the IV pole fell on me, it caused a deep muscle bruise on my left shoulder. I’m left-handed, and I carry the kids in my left arm. No strain there. I also managed to catch my foot trying to step over a baby gate, and fell… onto that arm. “Probably a torn rotator cuff. Probably needs physical therapy.”

During the winter break, we finally got notification that we could get some other “out of school” help/therapy for the J-man, because for a while now, home time has been difficult. Number of therapy visits are dependent on my health insurance.

Then, in the beginning of January, my team at TCTSNBN was informed that layoffs were coming. We got 2 weeks to stress about whether we were chosen, and then those who were chosen were told. I was one of the chosen. No stress there, right? I mean, I’m just the primary breadwinner AND the holder of health insurance. Not like I could need either of those things!

TCTSNBN, in their infinite wisdom of this round of layoffs (and this round for my team involved THIRTY PERCENT of our US based employees), gave us 60 days on payroll to find another job within the company – or without the company, but 60 days either way before severance kicked in. The severance package was also pretty good, but GAH – health insurance!

I immediately sent individual emails to everyone I’d ever worked for within the company – or even people I peripherally worked for. I readied my resume over that first weekend, and eventually applied for 48 different jobs within the company. I had some immediate rejections (always good when a script tells you “Not Qualified”) but also a good number of “Resume Forwarded to Hiring Manager” replies. One of those jobs was one I probably wouldn’t have applied for because I didn’t really meet the written qualifications, but one of my contacts had sent my resume to the hiring manager, who asked me to apply.

There followed a round of interviews – many of which stopped after the first question of “Why do you want to relocate to random-very-cold-Midwest-city?” – and an interview with the hiring manager who had asked me to apply. THAT one went very well, and at times I felt like I was interviewing the manager instead of the other way around. I felt pretty confident, but it was OVER A MONTH after that interview before I got an official offer letter… and only 6 days before I would have gone off-payroll. Whew!

I started physical therapy 2 weeks ago, because my shoulder had gotten so bad that I couldn’t take a deep breath without wincing. The J-man’s getting 12 hours a week of developmental therapy, at our home, and the lady is awesome with a side of awesomesauce. I had my 4-month follow-up CT scan, and the place in my lung is actually getting smaller.

Included in the results was the comment that the bilateral atelectasis (essentially, it means I couldn’t take a deep breath, probably from the pain) noted before was now resolved.

Resolved indeed. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

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Where Am I?

by Mary on April 19, 2010

Why is it so hot? Why am I in this handbasket?!

The J-man has been on Spring Break for three weeks now, with one to go. It has been, for the most part, wretched. There has been so much crankiness in our house that I’m surprised it hasn’t split at the seams already. Maybe by this weekend!

Never before have we seen exactly how much he craves the routine of school. The sensory overload of, well, everything he sees, touches, eats, or hears has boggled my mind. I watch him struggle, and watch us struggle with him, and I feel overwhelmed. Tim feels overwhelmed. Dale Jr is still going with the flow, although he will occasionally look over at his big brother like, “Dude. Calm down!” The J-man, whose bedtime and morning routines have been stable for months, has suddenly needed to be dragged (literally) to the bathroom for teeth-brushing and shower, dragged back to his room for clothes, forced into his clothes… and then at night, carried/forced into taking meds and having teeth brushed, manhandled into pajamas… He bit me the other day on the finger so hard that I still have a blood blister 2 days later. He went a couple weeks where he ate nuggets so rarely we were concerned about his protein intake, but thankfully that seems to have subsided. No amount of brushing/joint compressions/smushing has seemed to help.

Of course, none of this is helped by the extended family’s illnesses/surgeries/dramas going on, and the fact that both Tim and I have been absolutely covered up in work. I’m leading a project right now, and I haven’t done that in a long time. Tim is frantically working to meet a deadline, but he can only get so much work in per day, because of having to be with the boys all the time. The house is a wreck, and we don’t have the energy to fix it, but because the house is a wreck, we feel even more stressed.

Tim and I talked last night in bed, and I told him something I had read recently on a blog. Someone said, “Nobody is coming to save you.” They were talking in terms of money, but also in terms of regular life.

I realized that lately, I’ve been reading fiction where there is ALWAYS someone there to “save” the main character. There is always some distant relative you’ve never met who dies (but because you never met, you don’t feel too bad) and leaves you a house, or a huge amount of money. Something relatively small that you were left by your elderly godfather is actually a rare item worth $80K. Or, suddenly a nanny appears who is able to care for your children AND clean the entire house with one hand tied behind her back, and you can afford her full-time. (We actually have someone who comes in for a few hours every couple of weeks, and we LOVE her. But we need more than a few hours!) Somehow, you stop eating because of stress, and look down at yourself and have magically lost 4 dress sizes.

I realized that I have been behaving like somebody was coming to save me. It’s not going to happen. I need to start acting like that.

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Trying to Get Perspective

by Tim on November 29, 2009

These past weeks have been a serious reality check for us. All of us have been sick, hurt, or both at one point or another. Not surprisingly, this has weakened both our physical and emotional defenses. That’s a nice way of saying that we’ve turned into a bunch of grumpy, rundown, sick people who aren’t coping well.

I tend to process things best by writing about them. This has been one of those periods where every time I sit down to write, my brain just locks up like an overloaded computer. If nothing else, I guess it’s made me appreciate perhaps a little of what days are like for those of our kids whose brains are overwhelmed most of the day every day.

It recently became evident that we were losing control of most facets of our life. The J-Man was obviously experiencing some significant changes to his sensory system, and seemingly none of them for the good. He seems to shoot wildly between wide-open, screechy, running around, stimming overload to almost totally shut down. It’s hard for him to find a happy medium. That on top of all of our physical and emotional wear-and-tear and stress so thick you could cut it with a knife, we’ve been fast reaching an unsustainable place in life. And then last week it became really clear that it was worse than we thought. (More on that in a second.)

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A Tale of Two Babies

by Mary on August 19, 2009

[In case you're wondering about the whole 'Dale Jr.' thing, for you non-Southerners, the son of Dale Earnhardt - a stock car racer of Biblical proportions - is often referred to as Dale Jr., but originally his nickname was Little E. So it looks like our Little E is now Dale Jr.! If that made no sense, just go with it.]

It may have been the best of times. It may have been the worst of times. I really can’t tell you. I remember very little of the J-man’s first year. It was really a blur. I was SO TIRED all the time then that now, when Dale Jr does something, I ask Tim if the J-man did that too… because I truly can’t remember. So, for your reading pleasure, a comparison of the two so far:

Sleep:

J-man: what’s that? Why would you think I needed to sleep? I have to be up to eat every 2 hours anyway, so why would you force me to try to nap (for 25 minutes initially, although we did get that number up to FORTY WHOLE MINUTES)? I sometimes will only sleep while in a carseat with the car moving, so Daddy perfected “driving naps on 540.” Also, putting me down “drowsy but awake?” HA HA HA HA HA. Seriously, just nurse me to sleep, then hold me for at least another 30-40 minutes to make sure I’m really asleep, then carefully, carefully, carefully put me down, leaning your whole upper body into the crib so we are touching until the very end. Plan to be back soon! If I make a noise, or shift slightly, go ahead and get up, because I will be. I was still waking every 2 hours at 7 months, and didn’t sleep through the night until I was 18 months old.

Dale Jr: obviously read those “sleep books.” I love this. I love my crib. Is my thumb there? Then we’re good. I started sleeping 10-12 hours straight per night at 2 months old. I am the poster child for “put me down drowsy but awake” which Mama figured out only because she really had to go to the bathroom, so put me down in my crib for just long enough to do that… and I was out when she came back. I enjoy napping, and have been able to self-soothe from the beginning pretty much. Mama and Daddy spent several nights waking up to make sure I was still alive because they couldn’t believe a baby could sleep that long.

Eating:

J-man: I will nurse and nurse and nurse and nurse and nurse. And hate the bottle. And nurse and nurse and nurse and nurse and never let go even while sleeping. PS: and nurse.

Dale Jr: I nurse when I’m hungry, and then I’m done. I don’t especially like to go to sleep nursing. I have taken a bottle a few times, and seem to be OK with it. I DO nurse about every hour during the day (when I’m not sleeping) but since I don’t nurse at all during the night, Mama is perfectly happy with that.

Size:

J-man: I am HUGE and outgrew some clothes before I ever got to wear them.

Dale Jr: I am HUGER and outgrew a LOT of clothes before I ever got to wear them. Also, I’m out of sync with brother’s clothes sizes, so the hand-me-downs aren’t helping at all. Also, I’m growing out of the 9 month summer clothes that Mama bought when I was 2 months old because I outgrew the 6 month clothes she bought when I was 1 month old.

How Mama’s work is going:

J-man: I occasionally made Daddy drive me to Mama’s office because I would go on bottle strikes and refuse to eat. I ate enough during the day to not starve to death, and then nursed until I could not nurse more at night which made Mama tired. People in Mama’s office got very angry when she went to pump every 3 hours. Mama is surprised she didn’t wreck driving to work everyday in a daze state from lack of sleep.

Dale Jr: Mama’s work people have heard me on conference calls because sometimes I need to eat, and are perfectly fine with that. They also realize Mama gets way more work done now that she’s home.

How Daddy’s work is going:

J-man: Daddy doesn’t get to work during the day. Ever.

Dale Jr: Daddy can work while I nap. Sometimes.

Maybe now is the best of times. It’s not the worst of times. It is a good time.

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Starting to Sink In

by Tim on March 12, 2009

We haven’t posted much lately partly because of being endlessly sick, but partly because we’re starting to become more and more conscious of the enormity of the next phase of our lives. I know this is not really breaking news, but the idea that the baby is coming soon (like 7 weeks! or so…) is finally starting to sink in. We live so in the moment around here that anything not happening in the next 24-36 hours has almost no meaning for me.

This past weekend, we went out of town on what – barring some emergency – will be the last trip we take before the baby is born. I guess it’s the idea of knowing that something is the last anything before the baby is born that makes it more real. Perhaps it’s that it gives time some definition and clear edges, like I said, something that doesn’t happen much in our hour-by-hour world.

Mary and I have this running thing on long car trips that we’ll think about baby names to pass the time, but for the most part until now it’s been a car game like “I Spy” or “License Plate Bingo”. Now we’re at the point where we really do need to pick a name. We’re down to under a half dozen first names, with a likely candidate emerging. I find myself saying the names out loud, letting my voice get used to the possibilities and seeing how I feel when I say them.

With that being our last trip, it started me thinking about how on earth we’re going to travel on our next trip – whenever that will be – now with two kids given how getting out of town now with just one feels like it takes 10 people and an act of Congress. What feels like a sea of little questions fill my head and stress me out more and more. Which side of the back seat do we put the J-Man on and which side will the new baby ride on? With the J-Man, one of us rode in the back with him on long car trips. Now, we won’t be able to. How will he react to a baby back there? How will the baby do with neither of us back there?

It’s hard enough for the J-Man to be away from home and the routine and the things he’s familiar with, though he does better and better it seems with each trip. We can now tell how much he tries to understand new situations by relating them to situations he’s already experienced. This is a very helpful skill for him to learn, but knowing that’s what he is doing is actually somewhat anxiety-making for me. I have a much better idea of what he’s thinking we’re doing even though that’s not what we’re really doing, because he’s trying to make sense of something new with something familiar. It’s his confusion that I feel stress about.

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I’ve mentioned on here before that I freelance as I have the time. My work pattern – if you can call it that – seems to be settling on nine weeks of frenzied work while the J-Man is at school and three weeks (5 1/2 at Christmas…) of getting behind while he’s on break, all thanks to the patterns created by year-round school calendars. Of course, this will all get blown to bits when the baby comes, but let’s pretend for a while longer.

I freelance in some combination of web design (more programming and interfaces than graphic design), most every conceivable form of writing, business and marketing, and really most anything related to electronic and print communication. Anyway, I had my first face-to-face client meeting in eons yesterday. I work from home and do most everything by phone and e-mail. I honestly can’t remember the last time I pitched a proposal in person.

A graphic designer friend of mine had a prospective client and wanted to farm out a lot of the programming and writing components of this project to me while she did the design and various artwork needed for it. It was a win-win since we complement each other’s skills (or lack thereof in some areas) well and probably never would have gotten the job without combining our strengths.

The proposal was for no small chunk of change, so we worked pretty hard on it. The meeting and the lead-up to it was an interesting experience for me on many levels. After living almost solely in a world of the J-Man and all of his therapists and teachers for three years, it was a nice benchmark for me to see how my personality and social tendencies have evolved over that time.

Here are a few things I noticed that are now either different or much more pronounced:

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Worry

January 2, 2009

Here’s what I’ve been doing lately… worrying. I worry a lot, about things big and small. Don’t tell me not to sweat the small stuff – that just makes me worry that I’m doing something I shouldn’t. I worry about the J-man, and how people will respond to him. His stimming has increased dramatically without [...]

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Thankful

November 26, 2008

I know, it’s Thanksgiving, and everyone is doing it. Sometimes, that’s not a bad thing. I am thankful. I am thankful for my husband, son, and the little bean-son growing. Without Tim, my life wouldn’t be fun, filled with laughter and love, and there would be a giant Tim-sized hole in my heart. Without the [...]

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