Sick Days

I'm sick. I am that special kind of sick where you don't really have a fever or stomach issues per se, but you can't make yourself get up and be productive without a crane. I am at that point where every time i cough, I pee, every time I sneeze, I get light headed, and walking for too long wears me out like you wouldn't believe.

So, i have given myself a day off, such as it is, and as all of you know, a day off as a mom, is never really a day off.

On top of being sick, and constantly afraid of peeing my pants, I still have the little person running around, perfectly healthy, and demanding of my attentions, my ability to turn things off or on and to reach all things high up.

But I have no patience for that right now. I don't want to reach things, I don't want to turn things on or off, and I don't feel like watching PBS Kids all day long. When I'm sick, I want to just be sick, just for a day. I want to watch day time television, eat soup, moan and groan and wallow in my sickness, or, even better, be taken care of by someone who wants nothing else in return.

Instead, by being a mother, I have given up my right to take a sick day. I did get to sleep in, after calling in to work and making sure all the work flow was handled for the day, I was re-awoken around 9am, with a demand for pancakes and a movie to be turned on.

I am spending my sick day turning on video games, making snacks, begging her to put on underpants, and trying to get caught up on Desperate Housewives.

Just add sick days to the list of things you give up when you have little ones, my lap apparently is also on that list as she refuses to get off of it right this moment.

I have often complained that companies do not have adequate benefits for employees that have dependents they are responsible for, as it is, i am going to have to work late all week to make up for this sick day since i used up all my sick days when the school wouldn't let Lily go in becuase they thought she had swine flu. But you know which job has the absolute worst benefit plan? Motherhood. Not a single sick day, vacation day, dental package, nothing that is just for you as a parent to say, "hey, thanks for workin' here"

Sure, we have our little perks from time to time, the occasional adults only weekend or grandma visit to take off some of the pressure, but man, days like today, I could really use that benefits package.

Conversations We Should Have Had

Most mom's have been through this at one point or another, that sick feeling in the pit of their stomach, the uncontrollable panic rising up the back of their neck, she's gone, and you have no idea where.

Today, my family took a day trip down to the Puyallup Fair. After about 10 minutes, I already had a blog planned about the way the fair's milk you for every last cent they can possible get out of you. They managed to get us for $40 in entrance fees and busing in from the parking lot, $30 in ride tickets (no bracelets on weekends), $25 in food and soda and $50 in souvenirs before we were ready to pick up our scones and get the hell out of doge.

Sister and I were taking the pink one over to the exits to head to wait for Steve while he returned the $13 wagon we rented to shlep our stuff around. I was on the phone discussing where we will go and who will meet who and where while we navigated the crowds and made our way to the picnic tables to rest for the first time in several hours. I looked to the left and saw a flash of pink head, knowing that she was behind me, I continued on my way to the tables and sat down.

When I turned around to direct her to our spot, she was gone.

like that, she was gone.

This is one of those things you always worry about, always plan for, or at least, plan to plan for, but until it happens, everything is theoretical and abstract.

My eyes scanned the throngs of people, searching for that little pink head, calling to her, expecting to see her climb out from under a rack of clothes in the booth next to us at any second.

I could not believe how slowly the seconds passed at that point. I went over it and over it in my head, she was there, I turned and looked down, and looked back, and she was gone. Just gone.

Sobbing, I turned in circles, afraid to leave the spot, afraid to stay there and not keep looking.

In the midst of my panic, several strangers stopped me, asking to describe her, taking out their phones, calling the police, alerting the gate security, thanks to a couple that put themselves on the look out for her, she was found within about 20 minutes. They walked with her to the last place she saw us, and there was Steve, holding two large bags of scones and frantically calling her name.

The one positive thing I can say about all of this is that it has re-affirmed some of my lost faith in humanity. At least 15 people, men and women and teenagers all came to my aid, made it possible for my to do what I do best and stand in one spot and panic, looking for her, and calling her name again and again while they did the actual leg work. One woman stood with me while my sister went to re-trace out steps, and another man called 911 for me while still others went in every direction looking for her. The kindness of those people is something I will never forget.

Something I realized today is that we never actually made a plan with Lily about what to do if we ever got separated. We've done the "don't let anyone touch you where your bathing suit covers" talk, the "Its okay to say Hi to strangers but not talk to strangers" talk, the "yes you have to eat your vegetables" talk, etc. But we haven't had the "what to do if you lose mommy" talk not yet.

Apparently, we need a code word, I didn't even THINK about that! So somebody walks up to you and is like "oh! youre that lost little girl, come with me!" If you don't have a code word, who knows who's taking off with her! How could I have NOT THOUGHT OF THAT!

I am completely negligent.

After we found her, and I was able to let her go and stop crying, we started to talk about what happened, and what should have happened.

Apparently, she just got swept up in the crowd, and when she couldn't see me, she tried to go back to the last place she had seen me (she is so freaking smart) but she didn't really know how to get back there so she stood in one spot and started to cry, a couple that was helping me found her and walked her to Steve.

We told her that she did the right thing in making her way back to where she last saw us, and that if this ever happened again, to look for a police man, fireman, or a family to help her find us.

We also decided that we are getting her an ID bracelet, and if I get my way, a retractable leash.

I kid, but seriously, I get it now. We had that kid piled into a wagon the entire day, or holding our hands each time she decided to get out. The ONE time we let her out and aren't holding her hand, we lose her, what could have prevented this, other than paying closer attention of course, a leash.

So, all in all, it was a terrible experience that reminded us how important it is to make these kinds of conversations priorities in our house.

Have these conversations people, and invest in a leash!

What Happened to Amy?

I've been doing a little thinking about my name lately. My name used to be Amy, I never really cared for it, too short, not easily turned into a viable nickname, rhymes with Lame-y, not a great name, but it was my name.

In the last five years since husband and I hooked up I have some how managed to develop several new names, and even a couple of new alter egos, but Amy, as a name, and most of the time, as a person, has seemed to have disappeared.

On May 7th 2005 I became Mommy, and a short time later, Mom, and lately, I'm becoming Mother. When I became Mommy, everything about me changed. Rather than the sexually precocious, foul mouthed sarcastic little narcissist i have been my entire life, I was transformed into a person that was required to give, sustain, and nurture, life; and hardest of all, watch her swears.

I was shocked to find that Mommy was concerned about the violent content of video games and television shows, Amy never really thought about that, other than ones where they kill hookers for money points, she never gave a damn.

Mommy seems to care a great deal about what kind of food is in the house, vegetables, milk, cheese, yogurt, things with pro-biotics in them, Amy always just ran to 7-11 and grabbed a couple platters of nachos for she and husband, who was then boyfriend, to snarff up. Amy didn't care about carbs, and didn't want a husband, but Mommy, she is a little needy, and could stand to drop a few pounds.

Mommy needed a sensible car, a sporty hair cut in only one, natural color, and a house that housed only herself, the boyfriend (who is now husband) and the child that converted her to Mommy. Amy was content to live in squalor with somewhere between 3 and 7 smelly boys at a time where someone was always awake and everyone visited everyone’s room, giving the term "bed sharing" a completely different connotation than the one Mommy knows.

Amy had LOTS of friends, all kinds of strange people with interesting things to say and fascinating movies to watch and cigarettes to smoke. Mommy has however only recently found herself two or three really close friends and not even that in the early days of her new life.

Mommy knows the entire Veggie Tales song book; Amy knew every word to "Hurray for Boobies" by the Blood Hound Gang. (Mommy remembers the lyrics, but doesn't get to sing them very often)

Amy used to have opinions, and ideas and thoughts that centered on issues other than family medical leave and preschool bullying. Mommy is happy if she can maintain a 15 minute conversation without mentioning, or hearing about, poop.

Mommy knows that she has things that she cares about, remembers important things she see's on the news, and sometimes writes them down in crayon so she can discuss them at work the next day, but then that commercial for the children’s hospital comes on with all the skinny bald kids, and she starts crying and can't remember what that story on the news was about, and the dog has eaten the paper she wrote on.

Sometimes Mommy allows Amy to come back for a short time, usually on a Friday night. Amy takes over and dyes mommy's hair purple, or cuts it really short, gets a new tattoo, or inserts the occasional swear. Mommy then re-surfaces around the time preschool starts on Monday and is forced to answer questions like "Why is your hair purple? or mom's can have tattoos? Can I have a tattoo?" from the kids at school, resulting in stares and the occasional look of horror from the other moms. Mommy then wonders what Amy was thinking and if she should get back at her by buying a minivan.

As moms, wives, husbands, and parents, we tend to lose a piece of ourselves every time we acquire one of these new titles. We are now responsible for someone other than ourselves and that responsibility is something that takes a toll. Being carefree and narcissistic isn't something that translates well into effective parenting, but is so much more fun than worrying about who is getting enough protein and who isn't wearing sunscreen.

I'm not saying I don't love my life, I really do, but sometimes when its quiet, and things have slowed down, i sit back and wonder how I got here exactly. For those of us who have adapted these new titles, thinking about how we came to be in this strange new world allows us to be reminded of not only where we came from, but how far.

My pregnancy, marriage, and eventual nose dive into parenthood were so unexpected that it sometimes feels like I was picked up out of my previously self centered life and plopped down in the middle of MomLand, an uncharted territory by members of my former realm MeTopia, there were a few natives here sure, but I didn't speak their language yet, and I couldn't tell if they were inviting me to a feast or offering to roast me.


Amy was a little wild and had too many issues for Mommy, and Mommy is a little square for Amy. But together, along with my other personalities Honey, Boss, and Daughter, make up the person I am now. I expect that eventually a new personality or two will emerge, along with a couple of new names, they will be welcomed into the fold, asked to move over because it is getting a bit crowded in here, and offered a cookie. Unless of course one of them doesn't eat carbs either.