altarflame: (chocolate can't)
My google homepage's featured news articles are all titled things like, "Burma death toll tops 34,000", "At least 12,000 killed by China earthquake" and "Dozens of Florida homes destroyed by wildfires". I am freaked out and sad for the world, in a wide-eyed and frightened way.

And yet...within my own little microcosm, it is a good day.

Isaac's pain levels escalated suddenly, yesterday, to the point that I was about to take him up to the surgeons at the hospital for re-evaluation. It just seemed really crazy how much harder it was for him to walk, roll, anything, than it had been the day before. Grant helped him to the bathroom as I called my sister to come help with the kids and got my stuff together, and I could hear him screaming and howling from the back of the house. But then he pooped. And came out all excited, with G. And I set the keys down and watched him start sitting down on the floor to play with blocks, and put on a batman mask, and smile a lot. It's CRAZY, the difference it made for him, he seems almost all better today.

AAAaaaaaaaaaaaand we finally got the key to the STUPID HOUSE. Only 7 days late and after the real estate attorney threatened the title company with a lawsuit, but hey, Grant is over at the utilities place getting electricity and water hooked up right now and we're going to be meeting a contractor over there this afternoon! At (that's right) Our House.

But first he's bringing us some awesome italian subs back from this great new place, and after the meeting Ananda and I are going some places alone in the Prius.

There is an enormous weight off of me, because I think Isaac is really healing well, and I slept last night. Having the house is icing on the cake.

*big grin and a sigh*


I have a little Chinese fortune here on my keyboard. I don't know who put it there. It says, "Good news will come to you by mail." I love mail. I'm going to assume they're not talking about the addendum I just received for Elise's massive hospital bill, of an additional $15,000. I apparently now owe the Brigham $205,000 for her NICU stay. Um, right. Right-o.
altarflame: (Time is coming for me.)
We've been making and receiving dozens of phone calls because we were supposed to close on the house on TUESDAY, which turned into Wednesday, and is now "Hopefully Thursday? Or...Friday?" because - I'm not kidding - the title company this bank that owns our house uses lost our deposit. Our $22,000 deposit. There is plenty of proof that we gave it to them and nobody is trying to say we didn't, but for now...it's missing. So our real estate attorney is going all livid and flipping out about how ridiculous this is, and - hopefully tomorrow? Or Friday? Either way it has to be at night or during a long lunch or something, because Grant's going back to work tomorrow.

Once we knew, on Tuesday, that nothing was going to happen, we spent the day down at the beach. It was wonderful. Elise was KILLING ME DEAD walking around with her poochy belly and her fat butt, in her little one piece bathingsuit, with her curls and, just, I was dying. The tide was way, way out when we got there so we were able to walk really far on the sandbars, and we had brought this little inflatable mini-boat thing that Jake and Isaac could both sit in, with rope for pulling, and Elise had her little baby boat thing (one of those rings with a seat and a back). We were out for a long time in the ocean, stopping sometimes to sit and nurse and splash and find shells and run around, Aaron was hilarious, it was a great day, great ride in the van, great food. The kids tried to outdo each other picking up litter before we left.

I got a bunch of errands done today, with A and A, and then had some time out just Aaron and I for the first time in a long time. We had lunch at Casita Tejas and then went to Speed Demons and played air hockey and ski ball and galaga and things for awhile, it was fun. I gave him all of my tickets and he traded them in for parachute men.

There was a big thing earlier when Grant stepped on a bee that Isaac seemed scared of. Aaron's been stung twice in the past couple of months. But he (Aaron) was SO upset that Grant killed this bee - "It just seems like if a bee isn't stinging you or threatening you or going to sting you or anything, and you just step on it, that just seems so, so, so mean to me. He would still be living." It dominated the afternoon's conversation, and then long after AWANA as we were eating dinner there was a lightning bug in the dining room. I called him out to see it, and he was so excited, and carefully moved it to the back porch...where it flew up into Grant Sr's new bug zapper we'd forgotten all about :/ Poor Aaron. I care not one fig for bugs, but I am so moved by his love and respect for life in general and how much he cares about everything. He makes me feel as though I'm wrong for not caring about bugs and can learn something from him.

Isaac did not go to AWANA. He started throwing a big screaming fit we could see from the van where we secretly watched, with Ms Jessy, his Cubbies leader, because he didn't want to go (all of a sudden, when he'd been eager all day and week and loves it every Wednesday and had just hopped eagerly out of the van to meet up with them and go inside...) It went on for a minute while G and I debated whether we should intercede (he used to do this every dropoff, and then be fine within 5 minutes), until Ms Jessy led the group a little ways away and left another volunteer assistant there to "Reason" with Isaac (ha). Within 30 seconds she saw it was futile - he was making bird motions with his hands and hopping around, and red faced by then - and she tried to pick him up and carry him towards the group, when he started flailing and howling and kicking the hell out of her, which is when Grant jumped out of the van and ran over there. Volunteer Assistant bolted as soon as Daddy arrived, let me tell you. Isaac came grocery shopping with us (and Jake, and Elise) in a sniffly but mostly calm way, and then got a "talk" and a lack of the sparkling strawberry water everyone else had with dinner...

I really don't know what to do with him sometimes. If Ananda or Aaron had acted that way, I would have been LIVID. I might have smacked to get attention. There would have been immediate loud talking - which actually got their attention - and they would have been standing in a corner (because they would stand in a corner) or laying in bed for a nap (because they were acting like they needed a nap). My dissapointment would have hurt their feelings.

With him, this sort of thing is routine, though. There is no shock in me, just a weary sigh. When I've snapped and smacked Isaac in the past - VERY rarely because I don't generally believe in smacking - he's either laughed right in my face or smacked himself harder and THEN laughed. I really think we could only get in a smacking contest that ended in a beating. He cares not about my dissapointment. He SEEMED upset when I told him that poor girl who was helping Ms Jessy probably has bruises from him, and he hurt her, but you can't really tell. He was really uspet about not getting sparkling strawberry water, and it was only the "you won't be at the dinner table with the rest of us if you melt down again, either" that kept us from another tirade. There was a tirade I've ommitted from here in between those two, about goldfish crackers, that he rode out in his room where Grant sent him.

I would have been far more shocked at Jake acting that way, and would have probably come down on him harder, too, and Jake...is two. I worry that Isaac is bipolar and we'll find out down the road, or that he'll just always be a miserable adult, all sorts of things. He's so intense, it's totally different. I was telling G earlier that I worry a lot about wanting to hold him to the same standards I hold the other kids, but not feeling as though he can be in "big trouble" every hour of every day...it isn't fair to him or possible for me, and though I hate to admit it, there ARE times that I do something differently than I would have with the others, with him, just to avoid a fit. I try not to make it obvious. But he makes me freaking tired.

He at least came out into the ocean with us at the beach. Every other trip we've had to leave someone on the shore with him (Laura or Shaun if not G or I), but this time he did well and was proud of himself.

Sidenote: I saw a commercial for bipolar meds earlier, one of those laughing on the beach things with the voiceover, and the voiceover after talk of hope and help and living life again went into the side effects. She actually said things like, "if you experience ________, contact a doctor immediately because these could be signs of serious and potentially fatal side effects. If you have trouble using your muscles, discontinue medicine immediately because this can be permanent."

Do people really call for more info after these sorts of warnings? I guess if it gets bad enough you take what you can get? I mean damn, I'm afraid of the hormones in birth control pills and won't take sinus medicine while I'm nursing, how do you leap hurdles like that?




One of the errands I had to run was following up with a police report because of our fraudulent bank charges.

Police Woman: How old are you?
Ananda: Seven about to turn 8.
PW: And how old are you?
Aaron: Six about to turn 7.
PW: Why aren't you kids in school?
Ananda: We're homeschooled.
PW: Oh, I see. I'll be back in just one minute.
(PW walks off with our paperwork)
Aaron: She has a gun.
Ananda: It's just a stun gun or something.
Me: No it isn't, it's a real gun.
Aaron: Hey, Mom, I read "Closed Weekends" off the window.
Me: Wow, you can read backwards now, that's cool Aaron.
Ananda: (smug) If I wanted to, I could just make the words spin around in my mind and then I could see them the right way. Or I could just read the reflection over there in that glass, that isn't backwards.
Aaron: It says "Copps Unit" and "Monday Thru Friday" too.
Me: Very good.
Ananda: (note of hysteria) I could read that if I wanted to!
Me: Do you know why police carry guns?

That last line is momspeak for, please let's change the subject this is ridiculous.

The thing with Annie is, she CAN READ. She just has to try. And she's not used to having to try, and she hates trying. The only thing she's ever really dug in her heals about with me and fought tooth and nail about, is reading - reading aloud to me especially but also reading work in workbooks. And I don't usually push much, I take it at her pace, I work it in naturally. After looking into prices and availablity for all the school things we are planning for next year, I decided to go ahead and order some A beka stuff for her now - I think we're going to go seriously intensive with what is really review of basic phonics and grammar rules and spelling and things - meaning not a lot of TRYing - because I'm hoping and believing that by the end of it, she'll have some more confidence and this won't be AS big of a "thing" as it is now.


Moving is a big catalyst for change in a lot of ways, for us. Grant has wanted to do woodworking for years now, and has done little things, but now he can have a shed full of supplies and make it happen. And now that he has a "regular" job with actual days off, I can write like I've wanted to for years. He came home with a fire safe for important documents. That's something we always could have had, but never thought of before. Like how I could have cleaned out old stuff, but didn't. Lots of things like this. We're "saving" the new linens we bought for the new house, and I'm not even sure why. And we're changing our schedules. Starting now, though, in the midst of all this changing. I'm actually taking the plunge beyond my normal "We need to get back to waking up between 9 and 10, not at 11" and saying "We're waking up at 7:30 every day from now on", for the first time. We're planning zoo camp and VBS for A and A this summer and preschool for Isaac in the fall, and I'd really rather none of those things were a family-wide masochistic burden to accomplish each morning. Church would be nice, too.

Goodbye 3 am, I'm not sure I'll miss you...
altarflame: (MeandJakesleeping)
We've been hibernating with severe illness. The oral virus struck me just as predicted. There is always something really sweet about being sick together. I suppose that sounds ridiculous, but I love it when I see Ananda dripping in sweat because her fever has broken, red-faced and miserable with her own sudden heat, and I can come put a cool rag on her head and watch her wolf down a plate of cold watermelon chunks. That relieved, slightly disoriented smile kills me. I love it when I'm shaking with fever of my own and about to lose my mind from the teeth-rattling internal freeze, and Grant suddenly appears out of nowhere, swipes away my blankets, and drops a new one fresh from the dryer on me. I swear I moaned and instantly fell asleep.

Last night I was sitting up on the couch, with Elise sitting in my lap asleep and Jake laying next to me asleep. I was dozing off and on and she squirmed her way onto him - they woke each other up, face to face. I was ready for sick-kid hysterics, but instead they freaking looked at each other and grinned, and then commenced to do things like stroke each others' cheeks and give sloppy kisses for about 5 minutes before Grant ran over with the video camera. They were sitting up at that point, her leaning back against him and his arms around her.

Saturday was not any kind of ok...G had to work 12 hours, I hadn't slept much and I had to watch Aaron crying and shaking with pain and fever :/ All while very ill myself. I was feeling like my arms weighed 100 pounds each, so imagine my..uh...we'll call it "lack of amusement" when I realized the solution to his dilemma was to drag the portable hammock he's in love with out to the super warm sunshine in the yard and let him lay in the fresh air.

Anyway, it worked O_o And since then "sick with help" has been a nice contrast to "sick here by myself", particularly when I'm napping or eating something G's cooked.

I was also rather validated when the huge pot of from-scratch chicken noodle soup I made for everyone was actually universally well-received. The last time we were sick and I spent hours making stock and chopping things, nobody ate it but Grant and I. Big improvement.

This "oral virus" is really weird, btw. I was drooling so much in my feverish sleep the first night that I kept waking up all wet. Not acceptable. Apparently (according to the pediatrician) my sister and Brian have such deep-rooted systemic yeast problems that their immune systems are shot, so basically anytime Brian gets sick, he mutates it into something way worse and then passes it along. Which is right in line with TWO incidences now where his little play group had a mild, 24 hour illness that landed Brian in the hospital and then got my family ultra sick for days. I think we are going to have to institute a week long quarantine on him from now on, from whenever he "seems better".




While we all wallow about with blankets and bottles of C-Boost and Gatorade, time is playing tricks on us...Grant and I's anniversary was yesterday. We had plans to make plans, but, well, yeah. I could barely lift my head for parts of it, so we're tentatively talking about using it as an excuse to celebrate belatedly...

And Elise will be 1 in 8 days.

And we'll be closing on a house "on or before" 14 days from now, assuming nothing drastic happens.

G and I kind of looked up suspiciously, earlier today, realizing all this in the midst of our haze.




My diastasis is HORRIBLE from 2 days not wearing my support thing (I just haven't had the energy to put it on, or the will to deal with wearing it) and the nonstop coughing. Everytime I cough, the whole big lump of drooping, hanging muscle (it's right above my belly button) enlarges drastically and jumps. It freaks Grant out big time to see. It HURTS, is my thing...and yesterday afternoon it woke me up hurting so intensely that I was really afraid, almost frantic - it was VERY intense pain. I felt around that area and actually pushed something back through, and then it went back to normal "Oh man this sucks" everytime I coughed. I mean that's what herniation IS is something (fat, organs, anything) coming through a muscular separation, and I've been warned that this thing is itching to herniate, but yeah. Alarming nonetheless.

G approached me today about going in for the whole reparative surgery. I look 6 months pregnant right now dressed, deformed naked, and hate my body desperately, but he is most concerned about having to rush me to the hospital again for some emergency procedure or other when I get something strangulated in there. After clamming up, getting nauseus and generally feeling like I would cry over the terror of more surgery, we agreed to talk more about it another time...I've sort of, semi-resigned myself to possibly going with some sort of "wear my thing as much as possible now, and have a consultation to see if it's actually really dangerous, and then plan to get this done when Elise is weaned and Ananda is over the trauma of me dissapearing to hospitals" plan...which would allow me to lose some weight, which would make the surgery less complex/dangerous and more aesthetically good.

Mostly I'm still shuddering. The last time I had surgery, I woke up in the ICU with a face full of tubes. The time before that, they left a sponge in me and it nearly killed me. And all that after I was willing to do ANYTHING to avoid more surgery just from the screwed up experiences before...

Whenever I think of what it would actually BE, I seriously almost have a panic attack. I have to consciously shut down and just NOT think about it anymore.

Even before and after pictures give me the fucking willies...I look pretty cut up already, but nothing compares to that uneven, winding river, hip-to-hip red slice people have after a tummy tuck :x I feel like I'd start shaking everytime I saw my belly in the mirror and run from the bathroom.




Money.

What the hell.

Ok, so, we have everything all worked out, right? All of our debt paid off, all of our tithing done or mapped out, 2nd car purchased, house due to close. We've got necessary renovations, furniture we're missing and a buffer for our first year living there budgeted in, along with a few other things.

I got a bill in the mail today.

For $190,000.

One hundred and ninety thousand dollars!!

It's from Brigham and Women's, for Elise's NICU stay.

How in the world is it even legitimate for me to be just getting this bill for the first time now, when she's about to turn a year old? She was discharged at 3 1/2 weeks, and during her stay we met with the social worker and care coordinator plenty about their hassles with getting Florida Medicaid to pay the bill...and I remember the relief, albeit through layers of mind-numbing stress, when it was all worked out and taken care of. One less thing to worry about, awesome. So why now are we getting this bill? They've had my contact information all along and I've been communicating with them often, it's definitely not as though they just found me. Aside from legal stuff we dealt with, I've talked with her nurses and the care coordinator plenty to update them on her progress, and this has never been mentioned. And I received and paid some of my own bills that Medicaid wouldn't cover, for pathology and things. MANY MONTHS AGO, like last summer.

They're trying to act really generous in the bill, saying that if I pay promptly, they'll take off 20%. Yeah, I don't have that much either. Not unless we back out of a legally binding contract with a bank, forfeit a $22k deposit and take the loss of the cost of inspectors and surveyors. Not to mention, NOT GETTING A HOUSE.

I'm calling them tomorrow and trying to see what I have to do to fight with Florida Medicaid and get them to pay this, from my end. I mean, come on, they were SO good to Elise, and I DO want them to get paid, I am forever grateful to that NICU on about a million levels, but damn. I'm already negotiating a $111,000 hospital bill down here for my ICU stay last fall. Which was THEIR FAULT. We got a big sum of money dropped on us, yeah, but it's seriously just enough to set us up to live on G's income with a budget, independantly, debt free, and having given 10% (which we both felt was really, really important, especially after all the help WE received from total strangers last year...). We aren't in the Riviera on our yacht or anything, we're buying some tote bags from etsy, and once it's gone it's gone - with some new little cushions like life insurance that we never had before. The first thing we had to do was write check after check to doctors and labs and ERs and neurology departments, for 3 days, when we got it. The "writing year" with Grant not working was a pipe dream when we sat down to figure it out, and I'm "settling" instead for flying down some friends of mine that I'm dying to see.

Anyway, yeah, sudden year old but presented as brand new $190k bill that I was told was taken care of by insurance = not ok.




Elise is wonderful. Some of her new tricks include saying a consistent two syllables that she clearly thinks means "pick me up", and getting up on the dining table and my desk whenever people forget to push in the chairs.

May 2017

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