So remember back when Clara had her seizure in October? The one that resulted from slipping while getting in the bath and banging her head, and then resulted in a CT scan with a worrying blob (cyst)?
Today we finally met with the neurologist. He's a Big Name at Johns Hopkins Hospital in which the outpatient neurology waiting room is all asplash with print and visual media informing you that "Johns Hopkins Hospital Neurology is ranked #1 in the United States by [Everyone Who Matters]."
He asked a few questions--apparently to feel us out about whether we were the sort to sue if 20 years from now something happens to Clara--and then said he didn't think we needed to do an MRI. "I'm so unconcerned about this right now" he said, adding "if it were my child, I wouldn't do an MRI." Why such big news? An MRI for a 5 year old means general anaesthtic, itself a risky procedure. I am so damn relieved we don't need to do one.
In other news, I also met with my hematologist today: my low white blood cell count is indicative of neither lupus nor rheumatoid arthritis, and my anemia is treatable with OTC drugs. Will I be constipated and cranky? Yes. Am I sick with something scary? No.
AND, Clara's loose tooth came out today, in the car, in a messy bit of tooth flopping and Mummy pulling over to pull the thing out with my fingers. There was blood. And a BIG hole. And I freaked out (as I was then still on edge about the upcoming hematology and neurology appointments). But it's fine.
It's all just fine.
All four of us went to Petit Louis for an indulgent French Bistro dinner to celebrate. Screw Christmas. I felt very "Happy Everyone is basically OK Day!" Very happy. I had wine (and I never drink so a little wine goes a long way towards inebriation). I had wine, and I had my two small blond-haired offspring snuggled up into my armpits. I was, and am, so damn happy.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Teeth
Stress dreams for me generally feature my teeth falling out. Sometimes I pull them out, their dream-roots emerging as long yellowed spirals. Sometimes I spit them out like unpopped corn kernels. Sometimes I grind them into ivory shards that stick into my tongue and cheeks so I choke trying to spit them out.
Interestingly, though this has been a stressful semester, I haven't had teeth dreams.
Instead, in the real world, I've had dental work. The fissure sealant used by a University of British Columbia dental student to mold my tiny, malformed teeth into something presentable back in 1988 finally wore down on one of my front teeth. (Good job, Joan Chen, that long-ago dentist! Sealant is not supposed to last so very long as a cosmetic fix. Do you still practice dentistry? I hope so. You were mighty fine, and very tolerant of the fact that I would eat cookies during the 10 minute break in the middle of our 3 hour sessions, requiring you to clean my whole mouth from scratch for the second half of our session). Recently, I developed a stain that looked like a small piece of newsprint stuck to my tooth. Last week I had it fixed (and was reminded by my current dentist, not for the first time, that my dental work is older than most of my undergraduate students). My teeth still look too third world for America, but at least they look tea-stained rather than papier-mache.
In other tooth news, Clara complained a few weeks ago that a friend had accidentally head-butted her teeth. There hadn't been blood, so the teachers weren't concerned. One of those teeth is now loose, perhaps as a result of the bonk, perhaps because it is time.
My daughter is old enough to be losing her baby teeth. E-gads.
Interestingly, though this has been a stressful semester, I haven't had teeth dreams.
Instead, in the real world, I've had dental work. The fissure sealant used by a University of British Columbia dental student to mold my tiny, malformed teeth into something presentable back in 1988 finally wore down on one of my front teeth. (Good job, Joan Chen, that long-ago dentist! Sealant is not supposed to last so very long as a cosmetic fix. Do you still practice dentistry? I hope so. You were mighty fine, and very tolerant of the fact that I would eat cookies during the 10 minute break in the middle of our 3 hour sessions, requiring you to clean my whole mouth from scratch for the second half of our session). Recently, I developed a stain that looked like a small piece of newsprint stuck to my tooth. Last week I had it fixed (and was reminded by my current dentist, not for the first time, that my dental work is older than most of my undergraduate students). My teeth still look too third world for America, but at least they look tea-stained rather than papier-mache.
In other tooth news, Clara complained a few weeks ago that a friend had accidentally head-butted her teeth. There hadn't been blood, so the teachers weren't concerned. One of those teeth is now loose, perhaps as a result of the bonk, perhaps because it is time.
My daughter is old enough to be losing her baby teeth. E-gads.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Denial
Oh, who was I kidding? I am nowhere near having a good shortlist for school applications. I may be tired of school tours, but I still haven't actually seen the following charter schools: Charles Village Montessori, City Neighbors (which has two campuses), or the Green School.
Also, who was I kidding when I felt relief this morning? Yes, my classes are over, but no that doesn't mean fewer deadlines: I am chair. We are doing a hire. We are doing preliminary interviews at the Modern Languages Association Convention Jan 5-8.
There are nothing but deadlines to come.
And my car was suspiciously slow to start this morning: is the battery dying?
And there is a list next to my computer which is very long and on which all items should really have been completed about a week ago.
And then there's my email, which is full of items which need my attention; for now I am just ignoring the ones that have scrolled off the bottom of the page.
Time to put my head in a bag and weep.
Also, who was I kidding when I felt relief this morning? Yes, my classes are over, but no that doesn't mean fewer deadlines: I am chair. We are doing a hire. We are doing preliminary interviews at the Modern Languages Association Convention Jan 5-8.
There are nothing but deadlines to come.
And my car was suspiciously slow to start this morning: is the battery dying?
And there is a list next to my computer which is very long and on which all items should really have been completed about a week ago.
And then there's my email, which is full of items which need my attention; for now I am just ignoring the ones that have scrolled off the bottom of the page.
Time to put my head in a bag and weep.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Momosyllabic's Top Free/ Cheap School Wish List
1) Out of zone acceptance at Roland Park Elementary.
2) Tunbridge Charter School.
3) Baltimore International Academy. (Helloooo? Please return Husband's calls regarding whether or not you got our application which he, perhaps over-optimistically, sent an an e-attachment.)
4) The Green School (which I haven't toured yet, but they grow plants--no not those kinds of plants. How bad could it be?)
5) The Arts and Imagination Sudbury School (who would rank MUCH higher if they had just a smidge of science or math and perhaps a few fewer computer games).
6) The Wilkes School (if grandma pays and everyone reminds me repeatedly that priests aren't necessarily pedophiles; it just seems that way if you read the papers).
Number 1 is only if there's space in the school district (a bit like playing the lottery)
Numbers 2-4 are actually by lottery.
C'mon universe. Give us the school equivalents of snake eyes . . .
2) Tunbridge Charter School.
3) Baltimore International Academy. (Helloooo? Please return Husband's calls regarding whether or not you got our application which he, perhaps over-optimistically, sent an an e-attachment.)
4) The Green School (which I haven't toured yet, but they grow plants--no not those kinds of plants. How bad could it be?)
5) The Arts and Imagination Sudbury School (who would rank MUCH higher if they had just a smidge of science or math and perhaps a few fewer computer games).
6) The Wilkes School (if grandma pays and everyone reminds me repeatedly that priests aren't necessarily pedophiles; it just seems that way if you read the papers).
Number 1 is only if there's space in the school district (a bit like playing the lottery)
Numbers 2-4 are actually by lottery.
C'mon universe. Give us the school equivalents of snake eyes . . .
Monday, December 5, 2011
School Tours
I did one on Friday and TWO today.
We've looked at two religious schools because, though private, their tuition is somewhat affordable. They make me uncomfortable.
Today I looked at a Sudbury school, which I found thrilling. They "unschool": no curriculum, no class schedule. Just students with access to teachers and supplies. On the car ride home I sang "I'm such a hippy yes I am, yes I am, yes I am. I'm such a hippy, yes I am. Whooooooo knew??"
And yet: how is a five year old to discover she loves ancient Greek if no one shows it to her in the first place? Or to find that math has patterns?
I stumble on this.
My main requirement of elementary school is that it not teach my children to zone out and stare quietly at walls.
However, perhaps no structured effort to impart knowledge goes too far the other way, given that human society has on the whole moved beyond hunter-gathering.
I think my ideal school would offer a 6-7 hour day in which 5 of those hours are at a Sudbury school and 2 of them introduce: Greek, Poetry, Math for Practical Sums and Engineering, Piano, Ecology and a Sport of the children's choice.
Where is that school?
We've looked at two religious schools because, though private, their tuition is somewhat affordable. They make me uncomfortable.
Today I looked at a Sudbury school, which I found thrilling. They "unschool": no curriculum, no class schedule. Just students with access to teachers and supplies. On the car ride home I sang "I'm such a hippy yes I am, yes I am, yes I am. I'm such a hippy, yes I am. Whooooooo knew??"
And yet: how is a five year old to discover she loves ancient Greek if no one shows it to her in the first place? Or to find that math has patterns?
I stumble on this.
My main requirement of elementary school is that it not teach my children to zone out and stare quietly at walls.
However, perhaps no structured effort to impart knowledge goes too far the other way, given that human society has on the whole moved beyond hunter-gathering.
I think my ideal school would offer a 6-7 hour day in which 5 of those hours are at a Sudbury school and 2 of them introduce: Greek, Poetry, Math for Practical Sums and Engineering, Piano, Ecology and a Sport of the children's choice.
Where is that school?
How much for the fish?
I was decorating the Christmas tree with Clara and Winton last night.
Every year I make one out of construction paper and tape it to the large, tall, empty china cupboard (salvaged from a dumpster; doors painted shut; why do we never have time to unstick them?). I then cut out shapes (yellow stars, red balls, white snowflakes) and the kids glue them onto the tree when not murderously arguing with each other over who gets to stand on the step-stool or tripping over Pepita as she tries to pull decorations back off.
In the midst of the festivities/ acrimonies, a knock at the door.
Behold, a girl. Eight perhaps? "How much for the fish?"
Me: "Um."
Girl: "How much for the fish?"
Me: "I don't sell fish."
Girl: "The fish on your back porch. How much?"
Me [thinking: why the hell does she want my Haligonian fish, made of an antique fishing buoy and scrap metal??]: "It's not for sale."
Girl: "Huh?"
Me [closing door]: "It's not for sale."
Husband: "You should have sold it. At least then we'd get some recompense. Now she'll just take it when we're at work."
Every year I make one out of construction paper and tape it to the large, tall, empty china cupboard (salvaged from a dumpster; doors painted shut; why do we never have time to unstick them?). I then cut out shapes (yellow stars, red balls, white snowflakes) and the kids glue them onto the tree when not murderously arguing with each other over who gets to stand on the step-stool or tripping over Pepita as she tries to pull decorations back off.
In the midst of the festivities/ acrimonies, a knock at the door.
Behold, a girl. Eight perhaps? "How much for the fish?"
Me: "Um."
Girl: "How much for the fish?"
Me: "I don't sell fish."
Girl: "The fish on your back porch. How much?"
Me [thinking: why the hell does she want my Haligonian fish, made of an antique fishing buoy and scrap metal??]: "It's not for sale."
Girl: "Huh?"
Me [closing door]: "It's not for sale."
Husband: "You should have sold it. At least then we'd get some recompense. Now she'll just take it when we're at work."
Friday, December 2, 2011
Sounds like Enid Blyton
American readers, have you heard of her? I imagine those of you who grew up speaking English in more colonial or British-ified locations will have. She writes series(es) of books for children: The Famous Five, The Secret Seven (both involving groups of children solving mysteries and having adventures) as well as the Mallory Towers series (about girls in a British boarding school).
I thought of them this morning when I left my daughter playing with two friends: Clara, Maisie and Pete (a girl). These sound like Blyton character names when you put them all together. The Thrilling Three: an adventure in the icy mulch.
I thought of them this morning when I left my daughter playing with two friends: Clara, Maisie and Pete (a girl). These sound like Blyton character names when you put them all together. The Thrilling Three: an adventure in the icy mulch.
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