The sound was a shriek but I couldn't tell if it was laughter or crying. Then it stopped. Suddenly, again, and I ran outside. Silas, the only one I could see, was nearly speechless:
she ... (pointing) fell in there -- help her, mom!
I turned around to see where he was pointing: Eden, hysterical, was trying to climb out of the basement window well, where she'd fallen, apparently through the plexiglas covering it.
I pulled her out and tried to assess injury. She was standing, breathing, crying.
My head.
I felt the back of her head -- a huge goose egg, already risen.
We came inside, and for about an hour she cried, and we held ice on it. I sat trying to remember things about concussions -- Max was a head-hitter when we were growing up and once lost memory for some hours. So I asked questions: why are we wearing green today? who turned the milk green this morning? who was in the yard with you? She tracked with me.
I quickly googled concussions -- watch for dilated eyes, confusion, tingling arms or hands, double vision or loss of vision, nausea etc. None applied.
My mom came over for corned beef and cabbage, and we took turns holding weepy E. The grumpy pediatrician called me back and told me which hospital to go to if any severe symptoms developed.
I took Eden up to the bathroom, still crying, and sitting there she asked why she couldn't see me. I watched her hand opening and closing, opening and closing.
You can't see me?
I can't see anything. Why does my hand feel so weird? She opened and closed it.
Every nerve in my body stood on end.
We packed into the car -- so grateful my mom was over and could stay.
As Ben drove, I leaned back and asked Eden questions to keep her from crying. Within a minute, her eyes started glazing over and she couldn't answer me, couldn't count. Her eyes kept rolling. Eden, Eden, look at my eyes. Let's count, Eden.
I was leaning so far into the back of the car my face was only inches from her and we kept talking. Eden, let's count together, repeat after me -- one.... Eden, ONE. (one). Two. (two). Three. Eyes rolling. THREE.
What if this is my daughter now? What if life just altered?
She threw up the rest of the way to the hospital and kept getting disoriented like a tiny old lady with quiet wild eyes: where are we going? where are we going? what are they going to DO?
The emergency room was empty and felt like stepping into Grey's Anatomy with only young attractive doctors in slouchy scrubs. Slowly we moved through the steps -- vitals, check for neck pain, track a finger. She kept throwing up (all of her throw up was green from a day of Leprechaun-colored food -- kind of sad). Then they sent her for a CT scan -- she lay perfectly still as the camera lens arc around her head and the radiation sign flashed on and off above her body.
Doctor Sanjay came in within minutes. The scans looks good. There is nothing glaring, no bleeding. We are just waiting for confirmation from radiology.
She threw up until she fell asleep against me. Radiology confirmed, and we drove home. By morning, the swelling was nearly gone and Eden was full of play again.
Thankful.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
A Picture of Life
Ben and I are trying to do our taxes. Why this is always a prolonged effort rather than a succinct action, I don't know. Yesterday involved faxing a 15 page form from my parents' fax machine. Ordinarily this would seem a reasonable task, but I couldn't get the machine off a setting that involved placing each page, one by one, on the platen glass to scan s l o w l y, and it seemed an inordinately long time for the fuzzy screachy fax sounds to begin and even longer for the confirmation to be spit out (mine never came out at all). But, nonetheless, a doable task, especially with the kids out back at the park and Maeve in her stroller in a post-sleep stupor; I just needed to be patient and shake off my hurry.
Slowly I scanned each page, feeling the relief of the task nearly finished and feeling proud of myself for sticking to it. Right when I was standing up to leave, the fax noise started and was met with a "if you'd like to make a call--" I'd misdialed.
The only thing to do was to start over. So I took a deep breath and began again. About halfway through, the machine, like a possessed robot, began dialing the wrong number again. I pushed every button (literally) and could not make it stop until I finally unplugged it.
Maeve started to shake her rattle but seemed happy. I carefully entered the number and lay page one down for the third time. Then Maeve started fussing. The scanner bar slowly moved across the document. A quarter of the way. Half way. Maeve started crying. Three quarters of the way. I walked, picked her up, and laid her on the floor, then moved the first page out and lay down the second. She wasn't happy on the floor. She needed to be changed. I went back to the stroller for a clean diaper and wipes, moved the second page, laid the third, and started unsnapping her suit. Not just a dirty diaper, but a blow out. I checked the scanner -- only mid-page -- and went back to the stroller for the extra outfit I'd shoved in the pocket last minute. I moved page three, put down four, unfolded the clean diaper, put it under her, and realized the blowout was so big that the new diaper was now dirty too. So I went to the stroller for another clean diaper, moved page four to five, discovered poop was up her back and all over the inside of her onesie and that in trying to pull it off, I'd also gotten it on her arm. I lay her back down and pulled out a gob of wipes, switched pages on the scanner, wiped and wiped and wiped. Changed pages again. Smooshed her chubbiness into a clean outfit. Changed pages again -- on it went: me on my knees, swapping pages on the glass with one hand, shoving dirty diapers and wipes into a bag with the other, debating throwing the dirty clothes straight into the trashcan (I didn't), and the kids walking in from the park right in the middle of it because I'd taken so long -- ahh, a picture of life!
Slowly I scanned each page, feeling the relief of the task nearly finished and feeling proud of myself for sticking to it. Right when I was standing up to leave, the fax noise started and was met with a "if you'd like to make a call--" I'd misdialed.
The only thing to do was to start over. So I took a deep breath and began again. About halfway through, the machine, like a possessed robot, began dialing the wrong number again. I pushed every button (literally) and could not make it stop until I finally unplugged it.
Maeve started to shake her rattle but seemed happy. I carefully entered the number and lay page one down for the third time. Then Maeve started fussing. The scanner bar slowly moved across the document. A quarter of the way. Half way. Maeve started crying. Three quarters of the way. I walked, picked her up, and laid her on the floor, then moved the first page out and lay down the second. She wasn't happy on the floor. She needed to be changed. I went back to the stroller for a clean diaper and wipes, moved the second page, laid the third, and started unsnapping her suit. Not just a dirty diaper, but a blow out. I checked the scanner -- only mid-page -- and went back to the stroller for the extra outfit I'd shoved in the pocket last minute. I moved page three, put down four, unfolded the clean diaper, put it under her, and realized the blowout was so big that the new diaper was now dirty too. So I went to the stroller for another clean diaper, moved page four to five, discovered poop was up her back and all over the inside of her onesie and that in trying to pull it off, I'd also gotten it on her arm. I lay her back down and pulled out a gob of wipes, switched pages on the scanner, wiped and wiped and wiped. Changed pages again. Smooshed her chubbiness into a clean outfit. Changed pages again -- on it went: me on my knees, swapping pages on the glass with one hand, shoving dirty diapers and wipes into a bag with the other, debating throwing the dirty clothes straight into the trashcan (I didn't), and the kids walking in from the park right in the middle of it because I'd taken so long -- ahh, a picture of life!
Thursday, February 28, 2013
The Difference of a Word
The weather has warmed to 40's and 50's but is damp, so that cold still soaks through the clothes. And March wind whips before the month changes. Along the ground, bulbs break out. They stand mostly as green speared leaves, but finger-sized crocuses crop up in clusters along bush lines.
Winter is giving way.
Green dots the ground.
Today I spoke with a friend who listens well. She heard me say "had" a lot: I had to let Maeve nap in the car; I had to drive Eden; I had to haul Maeve's heavy body all over the playground; I had to get up four times in the night; I had to throw routine out and leave Maeve home.
My eyes sting with tired. My body is weary.
What, she challenged, would change if I said "get" instead of "had"?
I get to leave Maeve with a babysitter. I get to take Eden to school. I get to feed Maeve and hold her soft head in the night. I get to soothe Eden when she wakes up. I get to care for incessant baby-needs one more time. Get to.
The low grey skies are breaking into high windy clouds.
The frozen ground slips with mud.
Crocuses open purple.
I could do this, too, receive change, get to...
Winter is giving way.
Green dots the ground.
Today I spoke with a friend who listens well. She heard me say "had" a lot: I had to let Maeve nap in the car; I had to drive Eden; I had to haul Maeve's heavy body all over the playground; I had to get up four times in the night; I had to throw routine out and leave Maeve home.
My eyes sting with tired. My body is weary.
What, she challenged, would change if I said "get" instead of "had"?
I get to leave Maeve with a babysitter. I get to take Eden to school. I get to feed Maeve and hold her soft head in the night. I get to soothe Eden when she wakes up. I get to care for incessant baby-needs one more time. Get to.
The low grey skies are breaking into high windy clouds.
The frozen ground slips with mud.
Crocuses open purple.
I could do this, too, receive change, get to...
Tuesday, February 05, 2013
A Couple Winter Recieps
A Perfect Winter Salad: Arugula & Butternut Squash with warm cider vinagrette
1 bag arugula
2 butternut squash, cubed
small handful crasins
1/2 c walnuts
2 T shallots
1 T maple syrup
3/4 c apple cider
2 T cider vinegar
2 t dijon
parmesan
1. Preheat oven to 400
toss squash in olive oil, 1 T maple syrup, S&P and roast for 15-20 minutes
add crasins at the end
2. toast 1/2 cup walnuts, set aside
3. in a small sauce pan mix together 3/4 c cider, 2 T cider vinegar, 2 T shallots
boil over medium head 6-8 minutes until it reduces to ~ 1/4 c
4. remove from heat and whisk in 1/2 c olive oil, 2 t dijon, 1/2 t pepper, 1 t salt
5. to arugula add roasted squash, toasted walnuts, shredded parmesan (generous amount), vinagrette. toss and serve.
Molly Wizenberg just posted this recipe on Orangette, and I made them this morning. They are a simple cookie-cracker, much like a digestif biscuit (which I *love*) or the carrs sweet wheaty crackers that come in the dark red box. Molly suggests eating these with cheese, and she's right -- a sharp cheddar was perfection; and Silas crumbled his on chocolate chocolate chip ice cream, which may have been even more brilliant. Easy to make, too.
Oatcakes
Adapted slightly from Orangette (who adapted slightly from Stephanie Congdon Barnes and 3191 Quarterly No. 9)
1 ½ cups oats
1 cup flour
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
½ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
1 stick cold unsalted butter, diced (mine ended up being more room temperature -- fine -- just not soft)
¼ cup full-fat plain yogurt (not greek, though it would probably work, just add a little milk)
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment.
-In a large bowl, combine oats, flour, brown sugar, baking soda, and salt, whisking to blend.
-Add the butter and use your fingers to work it into the oat mixture until it resembles a coarse meal.
-Stir in the yogurt until a soft dough forms. The dough should be a little crumbly.
-Lightly flour a work surface, and turn the dough out onto it, rolling to a ¼-inch thickness.
-Using a 2-inch round cookie cutter, stamp out oatcakes, and transfer them to the prepared sheet pans.
-It’s okay to gather and re-roll any scraps of dough.
Bake the oatcakes for about 15 minutes, or until they are golden brown around the edges. (mine were a bit on the light side and I think the darker the better -- a little crunch at the edges would be good here).
Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely, and then store in an airtight container at room temperature.
Yield: about 25 oatcakes
1 bag arugula
2 butternut squash, cubed
small handful crasins
1/2 c walnuts
2 T shallots
1 T maple syrup
3/4 c apple cider
2 T cider vinegar
2 t dijon
parmesan
1. Preheat oven to 400
toss squash in olive oil, 1 T maple syrup, S&P and roast for 15-20 minutes
add crasins at the end
2. toast 1/2 cup walnuts, set aside
3. in a small sauce pan mix together 3/4 c cider, 2 T cider vinegar, 2 T shallots
boil over medium head 6-8 minutes until it reduces to ~ 1/4 c
4. remove from heat and whisk in 1/2 c olive oil, 2 t dijon, 1/2 t pepper, 1 t salt
5. to arugula add roasted squash, toasted walnuts, shredded parmesan (generous amount), vinagrette. toss and serve.
Molly Wizenberg just posted this recipe on Orangette, and I made them this morning. They are a simple cookie-cracker, much like a digestif biscuit (which I *love*) or the carrs sweet wheaty crackers that come in the dark red box. Molly suggests eating these with cheese, and she's right -- a sharp cheddar was perfection; and Silas crumbled his on chocolate chocolate chip ice cream, which may have been even more brilliant. Easy to make, too.
Oatcakes
Adapted slightly from Orangette (who adapted slightly from Stephanie Congdon Barnes and 3191 Quarterly No. 9)
1 ½ cups oats
1 cup flour
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
½ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
1 stick cold unsalted butter, diced (mine ended up being more room temperature -- fine -- just not soft)
¼ cup full-fat plain yogurt (not greek, though it would probably work, just add a little milk)
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment.
-In a large bowl, combine oats, flour, brown sugar, baking soda, and salt, whisking to blend.
-Add the butter and use your fingers to work it into the oat mixture until it resembles a coarse meal.
-Stir in the yogurt until a soft dough forms. The dough should be a little crumbly.
-Lightly flour a work surface, and turn the dough out onto it, rolling to a ¼-inch thickness.
-Using a 2-inch round cookie cutter, stamp out oatcakes, and transfer them to the prepared sheet pans.
-It’s okay to gather and re-roll any scraps of dough.
Bake the oatcakes for about 15 minutes, or until they are golden brown around the edges. (mine were a bit on the light side and I think the darker the better -- a little crunch at the edges would be good here).
Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely, and then store in an airtight container at room temperature.
Yield: about 25 oatcakes
My Resignation
The children are lovely, especially plump and bright-eyed to look at, but I have put in my resignation, and I am leaving. I plan to go first thing tomorrow. The destination isn't firm yet, but I envision a one bedroom cottage near the ocean, maybe in New England. A destination I can drive to where I won't need to answer any questions, pick anyone up from school, or "play two year old" with.
It's not that anything happened, nothing dangerous or catastrophic, but the number of diapers changed, onesies stained, little suits snapped up the legs -- it's just too many. And as of this week, Maeve is in swaddling purgatory where if swaddled, just as she's drifting off, she becomes irate that she can't move her arm and screams furiously; and if not swaddled, just as she's drifting off, she madly clutches the pacifier in her mouth, pries it out, flings it to the side and then screams because someone grabbed her pacifier. Oh help me.
General upkeep: Laundry, so much of it. Washing children, apparently not top priority. Eden hasn't bathed for a few days, and I just saw, here at 7PM, as she walked out of the room that she not only has two unbrushed pony tails (that are passable) but also a rogue hair clip that certainly served no purpose today or yesterday hanging from the back of her head, especially cute on the field trip today that several parents attended...
School work: tomorrow is letter day in Eden's class, a day they are supposed to bring a tidy Ziploc bag of clipped pictures beginning with the day's letter (tomorrow is K)-- what a cute weekly project to do with a preschooler. Many letter days she's shown up with nothing (how do Tuesdays hit so often and unexpectedly?) and sitting here now looking around the room with an unusual night-before awareness of the upcoming letter day, I see that I've once again recycled all the magazines... Silas's homework folder is currently lost as is the homework that goes in it. We both swear it was on the table yesterday...
More lost things: I put my drivers license and credit card in my pocket the other day and promptly lost the wallet they'd been in (that held other important things) -- always disconcerting. So I put the cards in an old wallet and hoped the lost one would reappear as it usually does. But, I then somehow lost the new wallet with my credit card and drivers license (!) Yesterday Ben found the originally lost wallet wedged between the seats of his car, but the license-credit card wallet is still missing...
Having written all of this, there does appear to be a strong case for my leaving for the sake of others in my care rather than for my own, which, I must say, is surprising. In any event, I have given my resignation, though maybe a transfer to a new location (a silent hotel with room and maid service) would suffice...
It's not that anything happened, nothing dangerous or catastrophic, but the number of diapers changed, onesies stained, little suits snapped up the legs -- it's just too many. And as of this week, Maeve is in swaddling purgatory where if swaddled, just as she's drifting off, she becomes irate that she can't move her arm and screams furiously; and if not swaddled, just as she's drifting off, she madly clutches the pacifier in her mouth, pries it out, flings it to the side and then screams because someone grabbed her pacifier. Oh help me.
General upkeep: Laundry, so much of it. Washing children, apparently not top priority. Eden hasn't bathed for a few days, and I just saw, here at 7PM, as she walked out of the room that she not only has two unbrushed pony tails (that are passable) but also a rogue hair clip that certainly served no purpose today or yesterday hanging from the back of her head, especially cute on the field trip today that several parents attended...
School work: tomorrow is letter day in Eden's class, a day they are supposed to bring a tidy Ziploc bag of clipped pictures beginning with the day's letter (tomorrow is K)-- what a cute weekly project to do with a preschooler. Many letter days she's shown up with nothing (how do Tuesdays hit so often and unexpectedly?) and sitting here now looking around the room with an unusual night-before awareness of the upcoming letter day, I see that I've once again recycled all the magazines... Silas's homework folder is currently lost as is the homework that goes in it. We both swear it was on the table yesterday...
More lost things: I put my drivers license and credit card in my pocket the other day and promptly lost the wallet they'd been in (that held other important things) -- always disconcerting. So I put the cards in an old wallet and hoped the lost one would reappear as it usually does. But, I then somehow lost the new wallet with my credit card and drivers license (!) Yesterday Ben found the originally lost wallet wedged between the seats of his car, but the license-credit card wallet is still missing...
Having written all of this, there does appear to be a strong case for my leaving for the sake of others in my care rather than for my own, which, I must say, is surprising. In any event, I have given my resignation, though maybe a transfer to a new location (a silent hotel with room and maid service) would suffice...
Monday, February 04, 2013
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)