Who Matters

I'm normally not a fan of forwarded emails, but once in a while I get a good one.  Tonight I got an email with this sentiment that I really liked (unfortunately I don't know who the original author is):

"There comes a point in your life when you realize:

Who matters,

Who never did,

Who won't anymore,

And who always will.

So, don't worry about people from your past; there's a reason why they didn't make it to your future."

I sometimes (more than I'd like to admit) let my thoughts drift to people in my past and mistakes I feel like I've made.  I get caught up in worrying about how people labeled me in my youth and what they would think of me now.  This sentiment is a good reminder to myself that it really shouldn't matter what happened in the past and I definitely have nothing to prove to those I look back at who said hurtful things in my younger days.  

Happiness and Regrets

One of the tv shows I enjoy watching is "House".  I was catching up on this week's episode tonight and had to write down this line as it seemed rather poignant.  The plot focuses on a woman who was a top cancer researcher and left her career to do something that would make her happy over something that she felt she "should" be doing.  Towards the end of the episode she's talking to one of the dr.'s treating her and he remarks that he often thinks about what he will regret when he's lying on his deathbed reflecting on his life.  She answers him, "You're going to spend one day of your life on your deathbed.  It's the other 25,000 we should worry about.  Go to bed happy tonight."

I often have to remind myself that no one will look back on my life after I die and say, "Gosh, she was a great Business Analyst." or "She really had a knack for redoing templates at work and project management."  At least I really hope that's not what I'm remembered for.  I'd hope that people look back on my life as being a good mother, wife, and kind person.  I'd like to believe that those things I do outside of my 40 hours a week at work make an impact on others and at the same time make me happy.

I would love to find a job that I could also count in the makes me happy column, but I'm not sure I'm ready for that leap yet.  For now I content myself with enjoying the people I work with (well most of them anyway).  

I do think I'll have regrets in the end; I'm guessing most people do.  I hope though that if I can confine them to the part of my life that falls lowest on the totem pole of overall importance that it won't be so bad.

Granola Contraband

Yesterday in true Mommy fashion after work I picked up Alanna, went to Costco to pick up a multitude of items on the grocery list, then took her to Target to get new tennis shoes and the remaining household list items.  

In a likely vain attempt to try to take small steps towards losing weight and save money at the same time, the items on my list included diet soda (so I wouldn't be tempted to spend an insane amount at the overpriced soda machine at work) and healthy snacks.  One of my coworkers has been raving about Kashi granola bars so I thought I'd pick some up while at Target.

In the granola bar section of the store, it was obvious all of the Peanut Butter flavors had been pulled from the shelves due to the recall.  So I picked out Chocolate Raspberry, Trail Mix, and Dark Chocolate Cherry.

At the checkout, the guy began ringing up my items and got to one of the boxes of granola bars.  He scanned it, stopped, looked at the screen and got this deathly serious look on his face.  I honestly thought from the look that perhaps the computer had frozen and he was going to have to rering the items that were already bagged and in my cart.  He looked me square in the eye and in this secret service tone uttered, "Ma'am, I can't sell you these granola bars."

I quizzically raised a brow and said, "Why?  They're not peanut butter ones.  Those were all gone from the shelves."

He replied again in this OMG serious tone that they were marked for recall.  He then proceeded to wave over an Asst. Manager type young lady.  As she was walking over, he continued ringing my items and came to another box and the computer must have told him it was an evil bad box and that it too could not leave the store with my person because he got "that look" again.  "I can't sell you this one either", this time with almost a tone of sympathy as if my granola bar box had just passed on to the next life.

At that same moment, Asst. Mgr comes over and looks at me (I kid you not!) with this accusatory gaze and asks, "Where did you find these granola bars?"  

Because obviously I had uncovered some secret contraband stash of recalled granola bars and was in league with a whole group of people conspiring to purchase them openly at the cash registers.

After I replied that I found them on the shelves in the GRANOLA BAR SECTION (don't worry, I was nice about it even though the DUH was coming through very loudly in my head), she rushed off with little red baskets one can only assume to remove the foul boxes and have them promptly destroyed by people in HazMat suits.  The world can breathe easy once more.

Boom Blox

I've been rather disenchanted with several of the recent Wii games we've purchased and hesitant to buy new ones without really really exploring the reviews.  

We loved the Wii when we first got it and played Rayman Rabbids all the way through in a weekend as a family and had a great time.  We also are huge fans of Mario Kart and Mario Party 8.  Alanna likes the Pokemon Wii game and we've all had a few laughs with Wii Fit.  I also have been known to jam out with Guitar Hero from time to time.  

Overall though, there are few other games that we've come across that we all like.  There are several others we have that we enjoy from time to time or individually, but we've also found a lot of duds over the past two years that we've promptly traded back in.

Tonight, however we found a winner.  Boom Blox  is just awesome.  Of course, we've only had it for one evening, but so far so good.  We've started playing it in single player adventure mode and just taking turns, but apparently it also has multiplayer mode.  It's like a three dimensional jenga style puzzle game where you try to complete the puzzles by blowing up/toppling over blocks with baseball throws.  The mini storylines are also super cute with a fairy tale fun style.

Highly recommended and it's all I can do to not sneak back downstairs and complete a few levels on my own--although I'm fairly certain that J is actually doing that right now so I'd have to battle him to steal the Wii remote away!

Quick Surgery Update

First off, just a quick update on Alanna.  The surgery went absolutely wonderful aside from some last minute nerves on Alanna's part (completely fine and to be expected).  In this particular case, I have to admit that perhaps my therapist, C, was right--nobody tell him I said that!! :)  I often find myself upset that no matter how hard I've tried to make sure that I don't "pass on" my lovely anxiety issues to my daughter, that sometimes she exhibits signs of having an anxious personality.  I beat myself up for "giving" that to her.  C has said time and time again and I believe Zazzy has also pounded it into my head once in awhile that I am the best mother for her because having "been there done that" I can help guide her through it when it does rear it's head.  

In this case, it proved to be helpful.  Alanna was terrified of the anesthesia when we got back to the OR.  She had practiced in the waiting room with Surgery Bear and was all geared to go and even excited about it, but lost her nerve when the actual time came.  The anesthesiologist had to hold his hand over her mouth with the tube because she wouldn't wear the mask, but he was having difficulty getting her to relax and take some breaths in.  I held her and told her that in order for him to be able to take his hand away she needed to calm down and we could do it together and then we did our deep breaths as a team--like we do sometimes at home when she gets upset.  It killed me to watch her stop squirming and pleading to go home as it took effect and fall asleep, but I know ultimately it helped that she and I had practiced time and time again calming down.

Dr. Wood is confidant that things look good and we're just astounded at how resilient she is.  She came out of surgery and promptly ate two popsicles and requested a Happy Meal.  You can not even imagine the relief we feel.

Thank you for listening to my ramblings/anxiety on the topic and for the words of encouragement.

It's so easy

I often forget how easy meal planning and cooking is if I would just make the time to do it.   It's so easy to fall into the rut of feeling rushed and resorting to "helper" style meals or even worse, just picking up fast food or ordering a pizza for dinner.

This weekend while I had time alone, I actually took the extra 15 minutes (and yes, it really only takes that small additional amount of time!) to think through meals for the week and plan my grocery list accordingly.  All of the meals I planned take under 15 minutes to prep and under an hour to cook.  They're all also far healthier options than my rushed fare.

I also find that if I make the extra time once I get home from the store, maybe an additional 30 minutes, to wash and chop veggies and/or fruit that we are more inclined to eat it.

I prepped a tator tot hotdish yesterday and just popped it in the oven today.  I also had all the veggies chopped up to make a veggie pizza which was easy for Alanna to help with and she LOVED eating it.

Did I mention jello?  I'd totally forgotten how easy jello is LOL.  I swear we had jello nearly every night when I was growing up.  Toss some fruit in and mini marshmallows and it doubles as a dessert.  Alanna can only have jello and clear liquids in the morning on the day of her surgery, so I promised she could pick out three or four flavors she'd like.  Tonight we did a "test jello" run and it was another of those things that smacked me in the face as being obviously easy and something she enjoys helping with and eating.

I know it's not gourmet cooking, but I do enjoy just being in the kitchen and if I do the little easy meals that are healthier than what we tend to gravitate towards in a rush, I can allow myself something I like to do and hopefully cut our budget and waistlines at the same time.

It's going to be ok

I've spent a lot of time this past week convincing everyone that Alanna's surgery is going to be ok.  She's confident and happy and actually looking forward to her surgery and the multiple flavors of jello that Mommy is making for her to enjoy on Thursday before we go.

I have continued to go to work and put on a brave face.  I have been an expert in vascular malformations for family, coworkers, and teachers.  

I got the copy of the doctor's notes on Wednesday evening in the mail after a particularly trying day at work where a difficult coworker made my afternoon pretty miserable with her drama.  There's nothing quite like seeing in black and white that "Alanna's mother understands the risks of surgery include..... and has decided to proceed."  Of course, none of the risks of NOT doing the surgery were listed.

It hit pretty hard, but I picked myself up and went in to work yesterday morning.  The surgery preop nurse called and we discussed all of the things I need to remember next week and I answered all of her questions and held together really well.  That is, until the question about if there was an emergency in the operating room, would I want them to do everything possible to save my daughter.  The next hour at work, I hid at my desk and tried to see my computer monitor through tears.

But I sucked it up, made it through the rest of the day and made it through today.  I told myself all of the same things I've been telling everyone else.  

J and Alanna went to visit Grandma this weekend.  I tormented myself about if I should go with or if I should stay home.  This visit has been planned since shortly after Christmas and the intent was that I would get a Mommy alone time weekend.  In my mind I leap to the worse case scenario and how awful of a mother I must be to have an upcoming surgery for my daughter and to not spend as much time as possible with her before hand.  On the other hand, I know I can't live my life in fear of the worst outcome and that I'd be admitting I don't believe things will go well.  

I HAVE to believe things will go well.  But I've spent so much time telling everyone else that and I have no one to tell me that.  I just need to know it's going to be ok.  

Truly, I didn't intend for this blog to start off so needy and I apologize.  I promise once things do start to be ok that I'll rant about my evil coworker or traffic or how illiterate I am with my new cell phone or other mundane things.

Surgery

The surgery scheduling nurse called today and took me off guard.  Apparently they could have actually scheduled Alanna in for surgery this coming Thursday.  Here I was preparing myself for having to wait a month or two to get on the calendar.  For better or worse though Alanna's first field trip is Thursday so we're waiting until next week for her surgery.

In true Lel fashion, I immediately took control of whatever I could get my hands on to make myself feel better.  I scheduled my time off, moved meetings, called or emailed family, told the teacher, scheduled her pre-op physical, cancelled her swimming lessons for this session, and double checked my insurance out of pocket maximum. 

For some reason I'm now exhausted...hmm..wonder why.  But I at least feel that as much as I can take care of I have.  Now comes the hard part, the waiting for that part I can't control.

Disconnected

Apparently I'm the last person on the face of the earth who does not own a cell phone.  Every time I say this out loud, people look at me in disbelief shortly followed by the question, "Are you serious?"  As if survival without a cell phone was completely impossible and I'm apparently a throwback to ancient times...well that or an alien being who hasn't a clue.

Truth be told I am technically savvy.  In fact my job is technical analysis in which write specification documents for a team of developers.  I do seem to have this odd block in my brain though when it comes to cell phones.  People have handed them to me to use over the years and I look at them as if the object might bite me.  Even J's IPhone confuses me.  I guess I just want it to be a phone and having to try to figure out how to get the dumb thing to dial irritates me.

Now that being said, I've received increased pressure from all of the two to three people I would call on a cell phone to hurry up and get one.  That if I don't they'll break down and buy one they'll buy me a prepaid phone because I just simply cannot survive any longer (in their eyes) without one. Whatever will I do if my car breaks down somewhere or they need to get ahold of me in the few hours I'm either not at work or home!!??  I'd suggest a bat signal, but I suppose that would have a more expensive monthly service plan.

So today I looked again at cell phones.  I researched several prepaid plans and even stopped at the little table for TMobile in WalMart (and on a side note I really hate going into WalMart).  The guy there also gave me the alien look when I told him I didn't have a phone.  He went the step that others often go to with "How can you not have a phone with a child?"  I resisted the impulse to answer, "Oh crap!! The doctor must have forgotten to pull the phone out of my womb when she was born!  No wonder I occasionally hear ringing and can't figure out where it's coming from!!"

At home on the web, I began on the AT&T site since we already have a plan with them and then also checked Verizon as that's where my sister-in-law and brother have plans.  My problem is this:

1) I've lived this long without a phone so how do I justify spending a minimum of $40 a month for a plan with a phone for 2 years?  

2) Once I get a phone if I go with a prepaid simple phone at closer to $12 a month just for the sake of emergencies am I going to regret it and really wish I'd gotten the phone that I'd like to use for internet, instant messaging, text messages and calling those multitudes of contacts who are going to miraculously appear the moment I declare to the world that I no longer am "disconnected".

The other trap I'm falling into is that I want a pretty and trendy phone.  Ok, don't even ask me why, but I'm apparently drawn to the colored phones that will coordinate with my new purse rather than just the simple functional plain black phone.  I feel in some regards like I'm back in high school trying to make sure I still fit in with the popular crowd even though I know that I can hang with them but will never really be a part of the group.

**UPDATE** Ok, I caved in and bought myself a GoPhone.  I got one of the nicer ones and checked the reviews.  It actually only ended up being $19.99 and will give me all of the features I could want if I really do decide to use it a bit more than an emergency only phone.  I think if I do end up getting a phone more as a "toy" then I'll wait it out and get the Palm Pre.  That one looks like it has the features I'd enjoy longer term and use more.  

Helpless

Tonight I feel helpless.  There's really nothing I hate more than feeling helpless.  I don't do well when things are out of my control.  I've learned how to cope with things that I absolutely can't control and to reign in the pieces of my surroundings or circumstances that can to make myself feel less helpless.  Often though it only serves to slightly reduce my anxiety and doesn't completely eliminate it.

For example, I know that my career path is one where things constantly are in motion and change is just a part of every day.  I've had to learn to live with the fact that the rules fluctuate and what may be the end all be all in one hour can flip 180 degrees by the next which may or may not require me to completely redo what I'd spent the prior 4 hours working on.  I've learned that I can control aspects of my work which makes the inner fluctuations more bearable.  I like my cube stagnant.  I line up my pictures in a specific place on my shelf.  I keep my emails in little subfolders.  I have a routine in the morning of what I work on first always. 

Today, Alanna had her follow-up appointment with Dr. Wood.  We've known for six and a half years (ever since we talked through my ultrasound results when I was pregnant) that there was a very good chance she'd need surgery.  Today was the day Dr. Wood said it was time.  I think I'd spent so long convincing myself and her that her birthmark was just a "special bump" and that it was just fine that it was hard to allow myself to believe today that indeed it's grown and changed.  

I'm faced with accepting that surgery is our next step and convincing myself as I reassure Alanna that everything is going to be just fine and that this is the best course of action.  I know that in the grand scheme of things that my daughter is a beautiful, smart, wonderful little girl and we are very blessed that she is healthy and happy overall.  That there are children out there who are on transplant waiting lists and/or have terminal illnesses and my daughter's venous malformation is not life-threatening.  I know that her MRI showed a long time ago that she was a good candidate for surgery, that the lesion is not deep and very contained.  

I'm very very VERY good with facts.  What I'm having trouble with is that helpless emotion I can't control.  I've done all my research through the years.  I know we have an excellent surgeon.  I've gotten a second opinion from a highly respected panel of doctors at Boston Children's Hospital.  I've combed the web and been vigilant about keeping myself informed.

Even today I tried to maintain the things I could control.  I checked with insurance, I notified the grandparents of what was going on, I wrote a note to Alanna's teacher and prepared a letter to send to school to help answer questions.  

It's not enough though and I'm all out of sorts.  I'm only out of sorts by myself though as it's far more important to be together, reassuring, confidant and strong so that Alanna can see that. She's so mature about it all and is asking questions, but absorbing the answers very matter of factly.  

I don't even know if anything I've typed has been coherent so I apologize if I'm rambling.  I'm tired, moody, and trying to vomit words onto the page to help myself move forward.