A Special Spoon

I was not able to have children. My best friend was able to have three. I love her children, and while I don't see them that often (she prefers to come up here, because it is quiet and she can read in bed and no one needs anything from her...), but when I do it's like no time has passed. Even though they are all TEENAGERS now. 

Her oldest son is turning 18 this May. How is this possible? Look how cute he was as a (not so) tiny baby: 

I believe that's a car in his hand. He used to put them in order and name them, with the most special being "Fire Truck" -- which was whispered. So freaking adorable.

And now... he's going off to college. My best friend is beside herself. 

But, a few weeks ago we had a visit from the boy and his dad, because he was touring his top 3 colleges that he got into and one of those is SUNY Geneseo. (SUNY = State University of New York). SUNY Geneseo is where I went, and where my best friend's husband went, and it was my graduation party from Geneseo that resulted in my best friend and my college friend meeting and...the rest is history. 

Here is the boy now: 

Much bigger, loving on Eggi. 

A slight attempt at stacking the deck, we said if he went to Geneseo, he'd be 25 minutes from me and Bryce, quality kitty time (he's going to miss his soooo much), and the occasional Annie's Mac & Cheese. And to top it off, I said I would get him a grapefruit spoon. 

Why a grapefruit spoon? Because to the boy, it is the perfect utensil. Like a spork but with better cutting ability. Perfect for Ramen and any kind of noodles. 

So, when I got the very cute decision reveal video from my best friend (they waited at the bottom of the stairs and he came out of his room wearing a Geneseo sweatshirt), I put in an Etsy order. And it came today! 

Needless to say, my best friend is considerably less nervous (but no less distraught) about him going off to college because we'll be nearby. With a special spoon just for him. 

This post in part inspired by Mali's post on friends and family. Go read it! 

Positive Brain Dump

I have a bunch of posts percolating, but today I just feel... demoralized. I am so disheartened by what's happening in the United States, by the stripping of freedoms, the LITERAL rewriting of history, the cuts to funding in all the areas that make a place desirable to live (medical research, education, libraries, vaccine development, stuff that means you CARE ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE)... I am taking advantage of my time to go to 5calls.org and call my Congressional representatives daily, but the active topics page has reached FIFTY things. FIFTY. It feels awful trying to pick which one or two I'll call about today. I could keep going on and on, but instead... 

I'd like to do a brain dump of 20 positive things or things that bring me joy that I can think of in a short period of time (but not timed, because timers stress me out): 

1. The spring peepers are out

2.  I have a snuggly cat purring next to me

3.  I went for a drive for the first time tonight

4.  The Surgeon was really happy with my knee healing and progress

5.  It was (briefly) warmer today

6.  The daffodils on the hill on the side of my house are blooming

7. I didn't know that Van Gogh painted more than one Starry Night painting, and there are others in the series that are just as beautiful if not more in my opinion

8. I love the puzzle I'm working on ("Midnight Moths" by Elena Essex)

9.  I can go up stairs pretty normally now

10.   There's a gluten free almond ring coffee cake on the table, and gluten free double stuf Oreos in the pantry

11.  I love the new cooling sheets I got recently, they are cozy and airy all at once

12.   Bryce is going to help me set up and stain my new window box planters for the deck

13.  The planters are going to make a "deck meadow" along the periphery of our deck with pollinator friendly plants

14.   The idea of sitting in an Adirondack chair, surrounded by meadow flowers, is highly appealing right now

15.  The orchid I was given for my birthday in 2021 is reblooming multiple times a year thanks to Bryce's attention

16.  It's been blooming for months straight

17.  The sliding glass door off our living room makes a perfect place for plants and it looks sort of like a botanical garden wall which is delightful

18.  I love my house, it is so cozy

19. When Eggi gets ahold of her catnip fish pillow, she hugs it to her and rubs it all over her face like it's her baby

20. Making this list actually has made me feel appreciably happier and lighter. 

Huh, interesting! Go make your own if you so choose! 

Thinking Ahead to the Future

The future is an uncertain place...but lately it seems even more uncertain than ever. Things that I thought I could count on (democracy, social security, my job's long-term reliability) are looking more ephemeral by the day. 

So, reading Mali's post "Ageing Without Children: Self-Motivation Needed" made me think about our own situation. 

Thinking about future planning for aging seemed pretty far away. Bryce just turned 51 and I am turning 49 in May, and we realized it's actually not as far in the future as it seems. So, here are my musings:

- As a teacher, technically I can retire at 55. which is only 6 years away (what the hell!). For perspective, 6 years ago I was already 2 years out of childless-not-by-choice resolution. Now, this is a bit more complicated because I didn't become a full-fledged teacher until my early 30s. For retirement, you can retire at 55, but you get full benefits with 30 years of service. Before that, it's prorated. I am in one of the only remaining professions with a pension, and I eked in at Tier 4, which is the most beneficial NYS retirement tier. I am super lucky for that. To get 30 years of service, I have to teach until my 60s.  That wasn't something that bothered me at all, until everything about teaching became uncertain with attempts to shutter the Department of Education and concerns about funding (especially for special ed) and school budgets facing shortfalls and a teacher contract that is up for renegotiation in 2027. I have hit eligibility for healthcare upon retirement, so I could do that without penalty at 55. So now we weigh the risks of retiring before 30 years to secure healthcare, or taking the risk that that goes away if I wait to have full benefits at 30 years. Sigh. 

- The rest of our retirements is investments, 401(k), my 403(b), and rollover IRAs. So... currently we just don't look at those statements because it's all awful from the turmoil of current events. Hopefully it recovers. 

- We have started going through the house and reducing "things." Streamlining what comes into the house to what is necessary, what will help us be organized, and what is aligned with our values. We've been in our home since December 2018, and we absolutely love it. It has seen me through two total knee replacements, and while it is a "treehouse" and is taller than it is wide, the (very bougie sounding) elevator has saved my ass multiple times. The fact that the downstairs bedroom is entirely accessible helps a lot. But, eventually, we will also want to move to something with fewer stairs, something a bit smaller. Maybe an end unit of a side-by-side condo where we can have some gardening, but we don't have to worry about mowing or shoveling or any of that. Maybe a tiny house (or small compound of themed tiny homes) in a meadow somewhere where we live with our books and music and cats and get chickens and goats or something. 

- We have been watching "Man on the Inside" on Netflix. It's about an older widower (the wonderful Ted Danson) who is in a lonely rut after the death of his wife, and answers an ad to be a spy on the inside of a retirement community to help a private investigator solve a string of thefts. It's funny, and heartwarming, and yesterday it made me cry. It's not an assisted living place per se, everyone has their own apartment, but there's a dining hall and activities and nursing care, as well as a memory care wing that looms like a door you go into and never go out. Yesterday, I felt like...maybe that's not such a bad thing for when you are older and living alone is isolating. You have less care to worry about, and you have social connections that keep you going. Of course, it also tends to cost thousands of dollars per month, and you own nothing. But, it seems like perhaps it's not the worst thing if you find a nice place for active older adults. Having children doesn't guarantee that you'll have people visiting. But NOT having children definitely makes the prospect of aging feel scarier, lonelier, more isolating. Maybe a place like that would ease those worries. 

Of course, we are nowhere near those kinds of decisions. We need to figure out how we can make the most of the years of our lives where we're active, and independent, and have the ability to do fun things. I have two new knees for a reason! It's always a good idea to have those thoughts and plans in the corners of the mind though -- time marches on and it stops for nobody. 

We're not promised that we'll get to those "golden years," so we have to live it up in the moment. If we are fortunate enough to have a comfortable old age together, it would be nice to know that we prepared and planned for it. 

Where My Mothering Energy Goes

Wednesday marks Five Weeks since my knee replacement. FIVE! It is insane that it has both been that long and that short. My leave from work is 12 weeks long. Which means, next week is the halfway point. That is absolutely incomprehensible to me. 

I have turned a corner, which means I am not in constant pain anymore and my meds schedule has become much more streamlined and manageable (Tylenol, ibuprofen starting tomorrow, and oxy only at night when the bones, they make me cry). I am far more independent and mobile -- I don't need my cane in the house anymore, and I use it on the not-so-frequent-occasion that I am out of the house (which has been a total of 3 times -- once for my post-op appointment, once to go out to dinner with my dad, and once to go to our Friday night Maria's in person for the first time this past weekend). I use it on non-rainy-day walks to the mailbox, too. What a wildwoman I am. I am able to cook dinner, and do laundry, and do very exciting things like clean out the bathroom cabinets, organize toiletries, and switch my clothes over from winter to spring. Again, someone rein me in! I'm ca-raaay-zzzyyyy! 

The biggest challenge currently is that I am going freaking stir crazy from not being at school. It's been interesting, because not having that all-consuming piece of my life has freed up a ton of time and mental space. It has made me actually organize things, because other things can take priority. But good god do I miss my kids. 

I used to hate it, absolutely go beserker, when people said "well, your students are your children" as we were struggling to expand our family beyond the two of us and cats. I felt like, HOW DARE YOU insinuate that my job can take the place of my own children! I used to say very snarky things like, "Oh yes, everyone dreams to have a group of 13-14 year olds at the same time with hormones flaring, neurodivergent quirks, and behavior challenges. THE DREAM!" And other times I would say, "yes, well, I love them while I have them, but they don't go home with me and I don't get them for the duration. It is NOT the same." 

I still maintain that it is not the same as having my own children. However, I concede that my students are the recipients of most of my mothering energy. I put just shy of everything I have into my groups each year, whether they are "easier" or "very challenging." I (appropriately) love on my kids every year. I will advocate fiercely for them. I will do my best to have them be better humans when they leave me than when they came in, to varying degrees of success. I hold them to high expectations but also want them to have fun, to be kids, and to grow into the young adults they resemble when they head off to high school. My nurturing energy just flows from me to them, and I am very very proud of knowing my kids, fighting for my kids, and supporting my kids towards greater independence. I partner with families and feel insanely proud when I'm considered part of their "village." 

I also am very grateful that I can come home and have quiet time with Bryce and our cats and not have to split my energy between my students and my own children. I would have been loathe to admit that when deep in the struggle, but I truly believe that I can give so much to my learning community BECAUSE I don't have children of my own. 

So you can imagine, it's been very, VERY hard to be away from all that. It's like a major piece of my identity is on hold. 

But, I am so very lucky that I have the best long term sub in the universe. He is working so hard to keep that connection going, to give me updates, to relay messages from my kids to me so I don't feel like I'm out in the cold. When I'm there, we spend a small chunk of time every Monday 1st period doing "Weekend News." I borrowed this idea from another educator, and it is worth every single minute of the time it takes from direct instruction. Everyone, kids and adults in the room alike, gets 1-2 minutes to share something about their weekend. It can be literally ANYTHING. For one student, it is almost always "Friday I had pepperoni pizza. I watched the football game. I hung out at my grandma's house. And...yeah." Which I love. Over time, the students learn about each other and learn that the adults are humans too. It encourages active listening. And, it is always okay to pass if you're not feeling it. It is also okay to rescind your pass at the end if you decide you DO want to share something after all. I asked the kids once if they thought it was worth the time, and it was a resounding YES. They like that they can share about their lives. Sometimes my students are very very honest and are like "I like that it slow rolls Monday and we have less time for class stuff." Ha! It is so important for connection, and will always be a priority for me. 

So.... starting the first Monday of my leave, I do a Weekend News video Monday morning! I actually set an alarm for it so it comes in during homeroom. I share a little about what's going on, and the kitties, and ups and downs. And then they share right back, which fills my bucket. 

I have nefarious plans to work around the policy that you cannot "step foot on school property" while on leave. When it is nicer out, I am going to have Bryce take me to the driveway outside my classroom door so that I can briefly visit without stepping out of the car, so that I am following the rules (I haven't stepped foot, haha) but can say hi in person. May 19th is just so far away. 

This continued connection is such a gift, and not one every sub would be willing to entertain. It gives that mothering energy a place to go while I'm out recuperating. 

Birthdays As a Family of Two

Last week was Bryce's birthday. Obviously we couldn't go out to dinner (titanium knee), so it was a low key celebration. 

I actually started it the night before, because he'd had a rough day and so had I, a lot of it from the general state of things and feeling like perhaps we are living in a speculative fiction novel.I was like, "that's IT, we're doing a Birthday Eve present!" I had two cards, one sweet and a bit mushy for the actual day, and another one that was ridiculous and funny. So, I gave him one card and one present as an appetizer of sorts. 

Amazing Etsy find at LittleMapleShop cracked us both up! 

Another Etsy find (TheArtOfManyThings), THE BEST. 

It was a lovely way to kick things off and have a little joy in the midst of what sure feels like End Times. 

The next day, actual birthday, we had a tasty Hello Fresh meal, and then surprise cake (I enlisted a friend to pick up and drop off a slice of carrot cake for Bryce and a slice of GF golden cake with buttercream frosting). Then, my favorite part --  the giving of the prizes! 

I pretty much furnish Bryce's wardrobe collection of Dungeons & Dragons t-shirts. He is a Dungeon Master for a group of guys, which is a terrific social and creative outlet. So if course, I had to get him another one (Etsy, this one from DragonbornDesign). 

What a handsome DM!

My favorite thing that was so silly was this: a Spookula umbrella. Is it not the absolute best? 

Yes yes, open umbrella in the house, had luck, blah blah. 

Finally, the best candles ever -- Nubble Light Candles from Maine. For Bryce, they smell like home. 

Two Mornings at the Lake, which smells like coffee and camp, a Lost in the Pines, which is Maine forest all the way, and Beach Bonfire, which is exactly as it sounds. 

It is so wonderful to be able to have a low key birthday celebration just the two of us. We don't need much, and everything is practical yet quirky. A lot of couples I know with kids have rushed birthdays, and prioritize their kids' celebrations so their own are minimized. 

We don't have kids, so we make our own rituals and celebrate each other pretty thoroughly. We are a family of two (plus cats), and we do everything we can to squeeze as much love and joy out of our time as possible. We have fun and, in a way, treat ourselves as our own kids. 

We are definitely reaching a point where the sadness of not getting to parent is pretty well balanced with a hearty appreciation of and gratitude for the life we get to live, just the way it is right now. 

Surgery Bloopers

I can't imagine going through life without a sense of humor. It really makes everyday life, but especially inevitable foibles, so much more entertaining. What's that quote? Trauma + time = comedy? There were a few bonkers moments in my hospital experience.

1) My surgeon does not do general anesthesia for a total knee replacement. Instead, both times I got a nerve block, a spinal, and sedation. Last time they said, "you won't feel anything because of the spinal, but we'll make you nice and sleepy for the procedure." To which I replied, "no no-- I see those power tools over there! You will make me ASLEEP!" And they did. 

This time, I had the spinal, and the anesthesiologist put the sedation in my IV (thankfully I'd already had a bit for the nerve block), and was like "night-night!" 

But, THERE WAS NO NIGHT NIGHT. He kept futzing with the IV, and muttering, and I was very much awake. My ridiculous veins made my IV not so effective. So, they set up the blue sheet that I associate with every TV c-section... Awake. I could feel tugging as they positioned my knee... Awake. The anesthesiologist was visibly upset as he adjusted the IV, and I repeated my very-much-aloud mantra "I'M AWAKE I'M AWAKE I'M AWAKE!" while the surgical team STARTED IN ON MY KNEE. I fell asleep before I could hear any power tool sounds or see blood spatter on the blue screen, and I legitimately couldn't feel anything, but THEY TOTALLY STARTED CUTTING WHILE I WAS STILL AWARE. I think right before I went dark, I hollered, "Dude, THIS IS NOT A C-SECTION!" In recovery, my surgeon checked in on me. I asked, "did you start cutting when I was awake???" And he said "yup." 

I wasn't mad, it is kind of cool that you can't feel any of that answer apparently some (possibly psychotic)  people WATCH, but I did say, "that's messed up." Bleccchhhh.

2) In immediate recovery, you still can't feel anything. They don't move you until you can wiggle your toes and feel your feet. Blissfully, it takes a while before you can feel the horrors of what was done to your leg. The last part of you to regain feeling is your pelvic region.

Last time, I said I had to pee and two nurses supported me walking to the bathroom attached to my room. I day down and realized I had peed already... There was a puddle trail leading from the bed to the toilet. The nurses said it happens all the time, but it was still embarrassing. And it is insanely weird to use toilet paper on an area you can't feel at all -- like you're wiping a mannequin's nethers instead of your own. 

So this time, I wasn't in the cushy room area, they had me in the PACU extended stay around the corner from recovery (Post Anesthesia Care Unit). The bathroom was right across the hall, but it was shared and the pathway was public. I got excellent, fast care so the fact that the ambience wasn't posh mattered not a bit to me, but the bathroom situation was less than ideal.

I sat in my bed, talking with Bryce, when my leg started to itch. I scratched at the bandage (they ace bandage your ENTIRE LEG like a mummy), and my hand came away...wet. Oh holy jeezum. I slowly realized that I had full on emptied my bladder in bed, WHILE TALKING TO PEOPLE, and couldn't feel it. They had to change my sheets, change my bandaging, change my gown. I was mortified. 

A little while later I walked to the bathroom (with the support of a nurse and a walker), and realized I was dribbling my way across the public hall. Nooooo! It was at this point I was offered adult Pull-ups. I took them, and made some lame joke about how this was a glimpse into my future, very sexy. I didn't end up "needing" the extra protection, but it did give me be peace of mind. I felt more dignified knowing that should I spring a leak again,  I'd be covered. Amply, and with much crinkling.

If those were the only two things to go awry, I count myself lucky! I do enjoy that horrifying and/or embarrassing moments can later become at most hilarious, and at least good stories. Life is never boring.

You Know What to Expect

It's different going into a total knee replacement having already had one. One of the most frequent encouragements I got before going out on medical leave was, 

"But you know what to expect this time! It will be easier!" 

Um, true. And also...not. 

Positives of knowing what to expect: 

- I was prepared with all the things I need for recovery -- the Cold Rush ice machine with knee pad, the countertop ice maker to keep up with ice demands, lots of stretchy wide-leg pants I can pull up for wound inspections by doctor and PT, water bottle, books, word searches, headphones, body pillow, setting up the downstairs bedroom, inspecting the elevator (ugh, sounds so bougie, but the downstairs was built wheelchair accessible, so we have an "elevette" that is terrifying but also VERY convenient for surgeries, and actually the doors are all wider and the bathroom has more maneuvering space). 

- Bryce was prepared for what he needs to do to help take care of me when I'm not yet independent. This was really hard last time as I had the hematoma and medication snafus and way more inflammation than I needed to deal with.

- We can tweak things that could have been better last time -- like meds management (Bryce made a spreadsheet this time and is the "home pharmacist," because it's a good idea to have those on narcotics maybe not be in charge of keeping track of them, at least at first!). 

- I have knowledge about what impeded progress and caused inflammation last time -- I know not to overdo the ROMTech range of motion bike thing, I know to ice, lots, I know to listen to my body better, and I know that bending is hard, but straightening is harder. Lots of putting pillows under my calf, not my thigh. (It's paying off!)

- We knew to advocate for the Celebrex and Gabapentin from the get-go, and didn't take no for an answer when it looked like maybe it was going to be a clusterfuck again.

- I requested my same home PT team, since they were phenomenal last time. Guess what? You can TOTALLY request things like that!

You would think all this preparation would make me a lot calmer. But...

Negatives of knowing what to expect: 

- I KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT. I remembered the pain of the nerve block, the fear around the spinal. I remembered the weird sensation of having to walk without totally feeling my feet, and thinking that they put me in a waterbed because my ass was numb for hours (Fun Fact: your pelvic region is the last part of you to regain feeling, which is INSANELY WEIRD in the bathroom. Use your imagination.). I remembered the horrors of mismanaged pain. I remembered difficulties sleeping. I remembered pain, and pain, and pain. 

- This meant that my anxiety levels were soaring the days before surgery. I was literally on edge and teary and panicky all the way until they first gave me a little sedation with the nerve block. It was ROUGH. So much anticipatory anxiety.

It reminded me of when I was going in for my last handful of embryo transfers. Some clinics will give you a valium because it helps with relaxing your cervix. I advocated for it for that reason, but also because I was an absolute wreck every time by that point (should have been a clue maybe it was time to stop). I would see that flash of the embryo(s) entering my uterus through the pipette on the ultrasound screen, and I would just tear up and say (sometimes out loud), "Hey, little guys, I'm so sorry. You're probably going to die in there." Ooof. Just for the record, these thoughts in no way sealed my embryos' doom. We humans simply don't have that kind of power. Sorry, manifesting "think it true" folks! 

It felt terrifying to know what to expect, because so many things went wrong, both with the transfers and my first knee. But... 

This time has been so much better. I was right that having no prior scar tissue from a previous traumatic injury and surgery made it easier. I have pain, and it's hard, but the knee part is nowhere near as bad as it was the first time. Also, it's easier to advocate for my needs. Unfortunately, some things not-knee related have made it of course more complicated. I had an allergic reaction to the adhesive in the wound covering that I didn't have before. It caused a rash, and blisters, and horrible itching/burning. Hydrocortisone cream helps a bit, but the only thing that is truly clearing it up is Prednisone. UGH. I hate that med so much. It's a fast Medrol pack, so I'll sleep again soon, but blergh. Gross. Also, all the one-sidedness and weird positioning to get comfortable resulted in horrible sciatica and piriformis spasming. This was literally a pain in my ass! It was so bad that it eclipsed the knee pain sometimes. However, amazing PT for the win -- I got really great stretches and exercises to help. Also, my amazing massage therapist and friend came and did a house call! I got quality time kneading out my butt. It made a huge difference. 

I am now in that part where I'm more mobile but prone to overdo it in my desire to be more independent. I have to remind myself to slow down and not push it, because that can result in slowing down recovery. It is something else to actually have the space and time to slow down. More on that later. 

So, "you know what to expect" is a mixed bag, but it did actually make more of a positive difference than a negative one. If I had a third knee, I would tell myself those days before surgery that everything would be okay. A couple bloopers, but overall... it was way better than my brain led me to believe. 

Not-So-Quick Knee Replacement Update

I have so many posts in my head, but between the pain meds and utter difficulty being in a comfortable position to write, I figured I'd just out out a quickie to let you know how it went. 

- The three weeks before leave were intensely stressful as I tried so hard to get things as ready as possible for my sub. That meant roughly 3 days per week bring at school until 6-7 pm. Exhausting. It really sucks that I'm missing almost all of my IEP meetings; that is my biggest stressor.

- My sub is amazing. I left with full confidence that he would take great care of my kids. He has sent me videos of each student presenting their final Giver project. They absolutely adore him and he is keeping us connected, which is such a gift. 

- The actual surgery went well. I had insane anxiety the day before and the day of, but it went well and some things went better. More on that later. I spent the night and pain management was excellent.

- I did have to fight for it, annoyingly, but I did get the gabapentin and celebrex at discharge that made such a difference when I finally got them last time. 

- Initially I was doing great -- far more mobile and independent than last time. 

- Initially is the key word. Last Friday I developed an allergic skin reaction to the wound covering glue. I had to go to an in person appointment, and they didn't want to remove it early (usually 2.5 weeks ish, or when it falls off), but the reaction necessitated it. So then I got 9 steri strips (mini blinds for my incision!) with the assurance that the adhesive is different. 

- Not different enough. I am looking at a course of steroids (noooooo, devil pills!). The rash is spreading. Ugh.

- Over the weekend, my back started to bother me. And my butt, like sciatica. I had pain radiating down my leg and up to where my kidney is. So I was terrified that the meds were making my kidney fail. Ha. Nope, my piriformis muscle deep in my ass is seizing, and it's impacting the sciatic nerve and so much more.

- Monday I called the home healthcare nurse line about the pain, which was eclipsing my knee pain. She suggested I call my Ortho office and get a muscle relaxer. Sounds easy, right? Ortho nurse said "we don't treat backs" and I said "but it's my back/butt BECAUSE OF THE KNEE," and she said regardless they don't prescribe for back pain, I'd have to call my primary care. Oh yes, because that went great the last time I needed medication related to my major surgery.  His office said I'd have to come in in person because drugs. 

- I made an appt but also had PT this morning and wanted to see her thoughts. She was awesome and took me through stretches and adjusting my gait and the placement of my Range of Motion bike. It was a relief. I'm going with those functional things and I cancelled my doctor's appointment because I didn't want another med anyway. And the anticipation of uninformed discussion of my pain management plan was causing me not a little anxiety and overwhelm.

So...better, then worse,  PTs are the bomb.com, and Bryce is an amazing support. My dad, too, who has been able to be pinch hitter when meetings clash with appointments, which is pretty much always.

Guess that wasn't short but here it is. Tomorrow I get my nifty mobile standing desk thingy that looks amazing and will allow me to type on my laptop in comfort, on the couch or in bed. Tomorrow is two weeks from surgery. It feels like a freaking lifetime. But still, in most ways, better than last time. 

You Don't Know Until You Know

I am terrible at collecting the mail in my mailbox at school. I grabbed it yesterday morning, and there was a little slip of paper in it. 

A teacher is having her first baby, and a birthday pool was organized to bet on when the baby will arrive, as well as a baby shower. This is a lovely gesture -- our school comes together to support people in lots of ways, and it's great to celebrate someone's happy event. 

I flipped the slip over, and there was a cute letterboard thing that said "And then there were three..." 

But also, a freaking ultrasound photo. In everyone's mailbox. Completely and utterly unavoidable. 

I immediately thought of several people I know who have suffered losses recently. Of people going through infertility treatment without success. Of all the people who would have a punch to the gut and suffer in silence. 

My hallway neighbor who had a devastating loss last year, who has been impacted by other announcements recently, deserved a heads up. I popped in and said "Did you check your mailbox? DON'T!" 

Well, apparently they went into mailboxes yesterday,  and since I didn't check it in a timely fashion... she'd already seen it. And felt the feels. 

The papers were set up by someone in the main office and not the pregnant person. I decided... how will anyone ever know that ultrasound pictures are tremendous triggers for so many if NO ONE TELLS THEM? That the picture hurts for: 

- childless not by choice due to infertility
- childless not by choice due to social circumstances
- people going through infertility treatment who wonder if they'll ever get a picture like that
- people who suffered losses at any stage
- people who never got to be pregnant for whatever reason
- probably other situations I haven't even thought of.

So, I took a deep breath, called on my empathy reserves, and prepared to have a very uncomfortable conversation in the kindest way possible, not knowing if there would be defensiveness or ire, because who am I to rain on someone's happy parade with sad feelings (but collective sad feelings)? 

I am SO INSANELY GRATEFUL that it went okay. I explained that ultrasound pictures are triggering even though they are EVERYWHERE (facebook, emails, CHRISTMAS CARDS, profile pictures, ugh), and that we have a lot of people (the WORLD has a lot of people) that saw that and it opened up a wound. Or put salt in an oozing wound. Or poked at scar tissue with tiny needles. 

She teared up and said, "I am so sorry! I didn't know, I would never want to cause anyone pain!" 

"Of course not! And I'm not here to make you feel bad. I'm here because how will anyone ever know unless we talk about it? You didn't know. Now you know, and it can go differently next time." 

She asked if it triggered me. I said it was a bit of an unpleasant surprise, but no, I never got to that stage, so that particular type of ultrasound doesn't hit me the same way. Plus it was, at this point, so long ago. My last IVF cycle ended in cancellation...HOLY SHIT, almost exactly 10 years ago. How is that possible? 

It was interesting, because she was like, "I had a loss once, and I just thought, 'it happens, just try again' and didn't let it bother me too much." To which I gently said, "and that worked for you, and was what you thought, but not everyone has that experience. Not everyone gets a rainbow baby. Not everyone's gazillion needles result in a picture with a baby in the middle. IVF fails. A lot. There are so many more stories out there of things ending with a baby than the alternative." 

She got it, and then shared about a family member who tried to freeze her eggs because a partner wasn't materializing, only to find that insurance wouldn't pay for the meds for that purpose and so it was prohibitively expensive. And how worried this person was that she'd get to her 40s and finally find a person and it would be too late. I think a lightbulb went off at that moment in our conversation. 

At the end, she said, "Thank you so much for telling me. I really appreciate it." 

"Thank you for listening, not everyone would have the way you have." 

And we hugged. 

It was insanely uncomfortable. I felt like I was trying so hard to be kind, to not activate the human reflex to be defensive, but to also educate. And thank goodness, it went well. It was empowering. 

Different situation, but it reminded me of The Next 15000 Days' moment of bravery, speaking up for her right to have no children and ALSO (gasp!) have a private life outside of work. 

Keep speaking up, friends! Tiny moments like these can make a difference. When people know, they can do better. (Cue Maya Angelou quote...)

Found on instagram, no credit given but thank you! 

Oh! Found this gem along the way, too. Perfect.

I learned a long time ago the wisest thing I can do is be on my own side, be an advocate for myself and others like me.

- Maya Angelou

The Last of the Bin

Last week we were putting away Christmas decorations, and we needed another bin. We have stuff in our attic space that has been there since we moved, and I knew we had bins we could use if we emptied them. Bryce found a bin of old binders from school to unload. 

And then I realized... I had a bin that was only about a quarter of the way full. 

What seems like forever ago, when we packed up our nursery and donated the majority of the contents, I kept a bin of things I wasn't quite ready to let go of yet. I have been slowly shedding things from that bin ever since -- books and blocks and floor puzzles and stuffies and puppets that have gone piecemeal to other friends with small children. A soft barn owl stuffed animal that now lives in my classroom and has been named Chicken Wing by this year's group of students. Receiving blankets that we repurposed around the house (great to cover office chairs or things you don't want cat hair on). 

A few years ago, I donated a bunch of baby stuff when we went to Vermont. I'd been hanging on to a bin in my car, and finally had the strength to donate it. It hurt. But I knew I had the bin left in the attic. There were still snippets. 

Now the snippets of things I can't use are gone. I emptied the bin, saving only a box of cards from our baby shower (ooof) and the sign-in book. (Although, I honestly don't really get the point of those when we have cards. It's always got 50 extra pages because we're not royalty, and I don't ever go, "oh, let's see who signed in to my event years ago!" Strange custom.) 

What's gone -- Halloween board books, the El El Frijoles onesie from Maine, the batik jellyfish onesie from the Corn Hill Festival, the Blueberries for Sal onesie someone got us, and some beautiful hand-knit items from Bryce's mom. We could hang on to them in a sealed plastic bin in a cobwebby corner of the attic space, or they could get used and worn by actual human babies. We gave the things to our lovely cleaning lady, who has a family member who's having a baby soon. 

I didn't take a picture. But then again, I feel like I have a zillion pictures. I have so much chronicled here and at My Path to Mommyhood. If I want to revisit moments and beautiful things that were never used by our mythical baby, I have lots of places to go. I don't need to keep things from having a life somewhere else. (I actually just looked at pictures from the blogs, and sure enough, the spectral version of these things live there.)

It made me a little sad, but I didn't cry. It felt more freeing than devastating. 

I feel pretty good about that. 

Unbecoming

I forgot when exactly it started, but there is a teacher at my middle school who decorates the staff bathrooms at the start of each month. I'm not sure if she just does the ladies' room, or if she sneaks into the men's' as well, but there is a new inspirational quote on the inside of the stall doors every month, affixed with festive washi tape. 

I don't always love them, because sometimes toxic positivity sneaks its way in masquerading as "inspirational," and sometimes the December ones forget that not everybody celebrates Christmas, but overall they are a lift to the day. 

I absolutely love the one that is on the lefthand stall right now. I think about it every time I go to pee, which, as a teacher, is maybe twice a day. I meant to take a picture today, but I forgot. So, here it is (emphasis mine): 

"Maybe the journey isn't so much about becoming anything. 

Maybe it's about unbecoming everything that isn't you." 

- Paulo Coelho

Oooooooh. Isn't that a good one? I love that. The older I get, the less beholden I feel to the idea of becoming something new, and more attracted I am to unbecoming and being more authentically ME. I have spent a lot of time being someone else to fit in or meet an arbitrary milestone in my life. How freeing is it to flip things and to think, "you know what? I think I will unbecome until I am truly, unapologetically, authentically me." 

The full quote, when I looked it up because I don't bring my phone into the staff bathroom, is: 

"Maybe the journey isn't so much about becoming anything. Maybe it's about unbecoming everything that isn't you so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place." (also Paulo Coelho)

I do struggle a bit with the phrase "meant to be" even in this context, so I am partial to what's printed on the slip of paper taped to the inside of the bathroom stall. 

Here's to unbecoming more in 2025.  

The Books of 2024

I'm paring down my New Year's rituals, because lately they have become less tradition and more unhelpful stress-inducing exercises that I feel compelled to do. So, byeeee. 

One that is staying is the annual Cataloguing of the Books, where I take my Google Keep Lists and get the books down into my journal by month, and then analyze my reading habits. It's fun to see the mix of genres and authors, the patterns that come up, the best books and the meh books.

Could I do this in GoodReads? Sure. Except I suck at GoodReads. I'm not sure why it becomes a chore for me, and I can't really figure out how to be "social" on it (and I'm unsure if I want to, ha). But then, when Bryce does his yearly Christmas Book Flood, I have to share with him my lists of books I've read in Keep, and I have to try to keep my as-of-yet unread books in the same place so he can check. Kudos to Carrie, the bookseller at The Dog Eared Book, because she was able to say "I'm pretty sure she's read that book or has that book" to a couple Bryce picks...and she was right! A few years ago I asked Bryce to only order my books from The Dog Eared Book, because a) small woman-owned business, b) she's the most amazing bookseller who will find you anything and if she can't get it will direct you to where you can, c) she has incredible recommendations, and d) I would rather not give my book money to the corporate monster that is Amazon. The last time I was in, I talked about my shitty GoodReads usage, and she (once again) BLEW MY MIND. She said, "What about The StoryGraph? It's not owned by Amazon like GoodReads, it's Black-woman-owned, and it gives you all kinds of data." I downloaded the app immediately, and I feel like this may actually simplify my life and thrill me with charts and graphs galore about my reading habits. 

I think I will keep my Keep lists, but I bet the annual compiling will be a bit faster next year! AND I will have page counts.  

So... my 2024 reading year in numbers: 

• 82 books read
• 71 fiction, 11 nonfiction
• 65 adult, 17 young adult/middle grade
• 13 Bryce picks & prizes (for birthday, Christmas, or just because)
• 20 from Book of the Month Club
• 20 Fantasy/Sci-Fi/Speculative fiction
• 20 repeat author and/or continuation of a series
• 16 Twisty 
• 11 Horror 
• 5 Historical Fiction 
• 4 Memoir
• 3 Graphic Novels

I looked at my reading for diversity, which can be challenging because what's the criteria? Is it authors with identities different than mine? Is it race? Gender? Sexuality? Disability? All of the above? What if the author is writing about characters but is not themselves of the community? I think it's super important to read lots of experiences and perspectives that don't reflect your own identities. I think if more people did that we'd have a kinder, gentler world. 

So, 28 books fit this category. 

Interesting patterns: I read 3 completely different twisty books that featured true crime podcasts. 

                                 I read 7 books centering on mental health.

Winner for Most Disliked Book: Hush Little Baby by Suzanne Redfearn.
It was about escaping domestic violence, particularly tricky when the abusive husband is a police officer, but I just did not like the main character. I didn't like how she treated the people who tried to help her. It tainted the book as a whole. 

Winners for Weirdest Books: 

Our Wives under the Sea by Julia Armstrong

Death Valley by Melissa Broder

Our Share of Night by Mariana Enriquez

9 Books that were Memorable Because They Stuck With Me (but didn't quite make the top 4)

• The Other by Thomas Tryon -- Winner for most disturbing and troubling book. Twin boys live on a farm and trouble/death seem to follow them wherever they go. One twin in particular seems more "evil" than the other, and the horrible things that follow in their wake get worse and worse as you slowly realize what's actually going on. SO disturbing and downright gross, but thinky. 
   
• Bloom by Delilah S. Dawson -- Runner up for most disturbing but also absorbing, hard to talk about this book without ruining some things, but I'll try!  Basically, a woman who is sort of floating through life becomes mesmerized by a woman who runs a botanical booth at a farmer's market that also sells cupcakes and soap. She is slowly enveloped into this magnetic woman's world, and the deeper she gets, the more disturbing things become. It reminded me a lot of the story of Bluebeard and his wives. But more stomach-turning. 
  
  
• Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armstrong -- so hard to categorize, because a woman whose wife has returned from a deep sea scientific expedition that went wrong slowly witnesses the unraveling of her wife and the ways that experience changed her. It has two timelines -- the return and weirdness, but also the expedition and how things went weird. 
  
  
• Miracle Creek by Angie Kim -- an immigrant family that runs a therapeutic hyperbaric chamber business out of a barn on their property deals with the aftermath of an explosion that kills and injures clients -- including young people. Who is behind the disaster, that is suspiciously not looking like an accident? How does it tear the community apart? What are parents capable of when it comes to protecting their children? 
  
  
• The School for Good Mothers  by Jessamine Chan -- This was a book that I didn't fully love, but that my brain keeps returning to. The imagery, the way the story unfolds, it's insanely disturbing and effective. A woman gets caught leaving her baby alone in the house to run a brief errand in a time when the government gets to decide if you are worthy of parenting your child or not, and what constitutes a mistake worthy of removing the child from your care. She has to go to the School for Good Mothers where she is tasked with increasingly difficult and emotionally manipulative tasks with an android child, constantly observed and found lacking. It explores the disparity between how men and women are treated when they make mistakes, and while speculative, looks at the practice of child removal and what constitutes reunification. 
  
  
• Battle Royale by Koushun Takami -- This was a Bryce pick that he was nervous about because it is a beast at 627 pages, and it is insanely brutal. This edition was re-released in 2009. It's in a futuristic Pan-Asian world where they sacrifice one 9th grade class for something like the Hunger Games, where the goal is to kill everyone else and the winner gets everything, except here no one is called in a lottery or volunteers. You are basically drugged on a school bus and arrive on an island in a nondisclosed location and then given the rules, a weapon, and then are sent out one by one. People die before it even starts because it's the government running it and if you are questioning things...you die as an example. To keep people from just hiding, everyone has a collar that will explode if they are in a "forbidden zone," and more and more of the island becomes a forbidden zone as time goes on to keep it exciting for the population watching. And, like any good dystopia, nothing is truly what it seems. It was so, so good but also... harsh. 
  
  
• Olivetti by Allie Millington -- I hugged this book when I was done. It's middle-grade/young adult, and told from the perspectives of both a boy whose mom has disappeared, and a sentient typewriter that holds her secrets. Very weird, but also beautifully written and such a unique idea.
   
• You'll Leave This World With Your Butt Sewn Shut by Robyn Grimm -- This book called out to me at The Dog Eared Book and I finally picked it up. It's all about death: the dying, the post-dying, the funeral business, the different ways to deal with a body. It was FASCINATING. I kept trying to read tidbits to Bryce, but he is very squeamish about this stuff so he begged me not to. I lent it to my best friend who shares a similarly morbid sense of curiosity, and she loved it. 
  
  
• Sundial by Catriona Ward -- This book was amazing in that you were constantly trying to figure out what the hell was going on and it was always not what you thought. I really can't say anything about it without ruining something, but it has a disturbing mother-daughter relationship, the idea of "a bad seed," returning to roots as a way to heal but also...maybe not, and dogs. There is some violence with dogs that was disturbing but it totally serves the story and isn't gratuitous, but that might make it a no-go for some. Very good and I think about it, a lot. 

TOP FOUR BOOKS of 2024: 

1. The Wedding People by Alison Espach.
   I reviewed it when I read it here, but basically it is a highly accurate depiction of the emotions associated with going through IVF to no avail...the grief, the gallows humor, the "what do I do now?" feeling. It is also very, very funny and a just beautiful slice of humanity. It does surround itself around a suicide attempt, which can be difficult for some, but man is it a hopeful, beautiful book. 
   
   
2. Somewhere Beyond the Sea by TJ Klune.
   I was so nervous to read this follow up to The House in the Cerulean Sea, because that is damn near a perfect book. It was a literary hug, and a must read if you work with kids, especially "challenging" kids (in my opinion at least). So how could this follow up compare? Good news! It was just as good, and perfect for these uncertain times when people are persecuted for not being whatever "in the norm" means. So much power of found family. So much sensitive exploration of trauma, adult and child. SO SO GOOD. And there's a yeti named David! 
   
   
3. Lula Dean's Little Library of Banned Books by Kristen Miller.
   This was a book that was recommended by a friend at school, and she lent it to me. I am so glad she did. Basically, a lady in the south makes banning books at school board meetings and town board meetings her reason for existing, and in the fight she puts out a little free library full of "appropriate" things like debutante guides, and Confederate histories, and chaste romances. Except... someone in the town has quietly swapped the books in the jackets out for the banned books, and when people take books out they definitely do not get what they expected. New titles include LGBTQ+ stories, erotic cake cookbooks, true stories of activism, anti-racism, and feminism. It turns the town upside down in the best possible way and introduces you to a cast of characters that are just delightful. It also makes clear the importance of stories, lots of different stories, and how they can unite far more than divide. There is a scene with a cake that damn near killed me because I laughed until I couldn't breathe. Very enjoyable. 
   
   
4. Cockroaches by Scholastique Mukasonga. Ooof, this was a Christmas Book Flood book, and it was the last one I opened. It was also the first one I read. It's a memoir written by a woman who lost 37 members of her family to the Tutsi genocide in Rwanda. It starts in the late 50s with her childhood and shows how the situation developed and festered and erupted, and you go with her on this slow march towards April of 1994. She was not there when it happened, but she went after to find out more and to pay respects and honor her family. It is brutal. It is so very important. I knew a little about this time, mostly from scenes from the movie Hotel Rwanda, but to hear it told so comprehensively and so personally was eye-opening. It led me down a rabbit hole of researching what the conflict between Hutus and Tutsis was all about and why it isn't as well known as it should be. One of my favorite passages: "...I hold what's left of the lives and the names of all those in Gitwe and Gitagata and Cyohoha who will never be properly buried. The murderers tried to erase everything they were, even any memory of their existence, but, in the schoolchild's notebook that I am now never without, I write down their names. I have nothing left of my family and all the others who died in Nyamata but that paper grave." 

That's it! Here are pictures from my book journal that show every single title I read. I read less individual titles than in 2023, but I think I read more pages. I have decided not to set a reading goal for 2025, except maybe to read more widely and not be afraid of page counts. With my upcoming knee replacement and leave, I am surely going to have a little more time to get some good reading in! 

What were your favorite reads in 2024?