Surgery. Again.

He had an absolute blast at the surgeon's office.  And I LOVE the medical bench!
 He was beyond excited to see the fire truck as soon as we walked into the room!
 He was up and on it before the door closed!

Tate is circumcised.  The procedure was done on his second day on this planet.  I had never given circumcision much thought.  All my life, I had assumed if I had a son I would have him circumcised.  But times they are a-changing.  All of a sudden it is a much discussed debate, one I never paid, nor do I now, pay any mind to.  I had my reasons for wanting Tate circumcised.  I did however talk about it with Christian, since as a German male he is uncircumcised, and I knew he would have some feelings about it.  He was against it, but knowing that Tate is my child legally left the decision up to me.  So it was done.  


You're quickly shown and told how to care for the circumcised penis.  From keeping it moist and pushing the foreskin back with every diaper change.  In your post surgery, immense blood loss, new mother, aching, leaking haze you nod and say you understand and yes you can do it.  And I did, or I think I did.  But I never wanted to hurt him, so maybe I didn't push it back enough.  Christian tried to help while he was here that first week, and my mom was good about it each time she changed him.  I think we did it ok.


I'll never know.  About 2 months after he was born I was concerned because it seemed like the foreskin was adhering to his penis a bit much.  Our pediatrician pushed the skin back for us (not pleasant) and told me it was normal and that at some point it should remained detached? unattached? (what is the proper male term for this?!!!).  In any event, I brought it to her attention at most of his well baby checks and half of our visits included her trying to 'fix' the adhesion.


Then I stopped worrying about it.  Though my mother made mention a few times that his penis just didn't look as circumcised as my nephew's at that age.  I simply didn't know what to make of it all. Several women on my birth board posted about their sons' penises having the adhesion and the foreskin not looking right, and it seemed all the peds were not concerned.  I moved on.


Around 18 months of age I noticed what I thought was a very small cyst on the underside of his penis;  it was about 5 mm in length and 2 mm in width.  He didn't seem the least bothered by it.  I took him for an evaluation with our ped.  She said it was some redundant tissue left from the circumcision.   I couldn't believe I had never noticed it before.  She was able to 'squeeze' some of it out, but said it may come back, so we would probably need to see a pedi surgeon for removal.  However, it was nothing to worry about at this time.  At his 2 year check-up I brought it up again, and since it had gone back to its original size she referred us to the pediatric surgeon which is who we saw today.


He's a great little old man.  The office was fabulous, efficient, well staffed and RAN ON TIME!  We arrived 15 minutes early, filled out our paperwork, were brought back to our amazing room 5 minutes before our scheduled appointment time, and the medical assistant took Tate's medical history.  No sooner had he been out of the room 2 minutes that our surgeon walked in with a huge smile.  Tate was in heaven!  The exam bench was a fire truck.  There were great toys on the window sills!!  Tate laid down and let the doc examine him and move his little penis this way and that way with nary a fuss.  


Dr. B explained that Tate's circumcision was very conservative, and that yes the little cyst like area was redundant tissue remaining from the circumcision that was left under the bell (or something or other).  He felt like the foreskin was still too attached as well.  We could leave the redundant tissue, but it would just become annoying as Tate got older.  He told me that we had 2 real options (1) simply remove the redundant tissue (2) revise the circumcision and in doing so the redundant tissue would be removed.  I chose option 2.  


So, on October 14, 2011 Tate will be undergoing general anesthesia for a circumcision revision.  I'm not thrilled obviously.  And I will now always wonder if I made the right choice to have the circumcision done in the first place.  Well actually no, I don't think I'll wonder that.  It was the right choice at the time. And sometimes things happen beyond our control.  I hate that it wasn't done as well as it could have been and that now he'll have to have anesthetic gases to have a revision done.  He's also in the midst of potty training at school (and doing very well I might add, though at home I haven't even started), so I have no idea how this will affect that.  He'll have a few dissolvable stitches and will be swollen for 2-3 weeks.   But in the grand scheme of things all will work itself out.


And I know in my medically trained head that general anesthesia is quite safe.  And he did really well a year ago when he got his tubes put in.  But no surgery should be taken lightly.  There is always a risk.  But we will pray for Dr. B's hands to be steady and sure, the anesthesiologist to monitor Tate and administer the necessary medications with care and assuredness


That's all we can really ask, that those who care for our loved ones to treat them as we would want to be treated.  That's something I really strive to do when I'm working on the kiddos myself.  I keep in mind...how would I want Tate to be treated if he were laying here having his teeth drilled?  


Everyday many, many of us leave our most precious gifts in the hands of others.  And as we walk back out to our cars, we do so assuming they will be treated as if they are precious to those caring for them.  We have to believe it because otherwise it would be impossible to get in those vehicles and drive away.  And every morning I miss Tate as I try to imagine what he will be doing for the next 10, TEN, hours we are apart.  Ten hours.  Ten hours he's with Ms. L and his little friends, being loved, taught and cared for.  


Treated as their own.  My greatest wish and hope.  That my precious boy is always loved.

Just a Funk

Sunday and Monday night Tate woke up screaming, and I mean screaming and hollering around 10pm after being put in his crib around 720pm, and asleep by 745pm.  At first there were just a few whimpers, but that quickly escalated into the full on blood-curdling screams.  I went upstairs to see just what was wrong...had he dropped his hippo?  could he not find one of the 15 pacifiers I had strewn about his crib?  was an appendage stuck in one of the crib slats?  did he hit his head and have a bloody nose?  


None of the above.


I wondered if he was having night terrors :(  I picked him to try to calm him, and he flailed about mercilessly.  I got him his hippo and a pacifier which he gratefully clutched, but managed to wail and cry around the pacifier hanging out of his mouth.  I walked with him, rocked with him, sang into his ear and finally laid down in my bed with him.  After about 8-10 minutes he calmed down and fell asleep and slept through the night.


Monday night was a repeat of Sunday night, though 15 minutes later.  


To make matters worse Monday morning though he woke up smiling and wanting to read his books as is his usual he had a fit when he came downstairs for breakfast.  Now this boy loves Cheerios, loves them. He has 2 bowls almost every morning along with a fruit, usually a banana, and a cup of plain yogurt.  I had his cereal all ready in his bowl, milk poured into it and he started crying and whimpering before he made it down the stairs.  The crying continued for 30 minutes.  I put him in his newly assigned seat at the dining room table as we've made the move from the highchair to a regular chair as of last week.  (I added a 'heightner' to the bottom of the chair).  He was beyond displeased.  Finally after 30 minutes I had to get him dressed for daycare, so I could get on to work.  He was still crying, with the beloved hippo AND pacifier. I held him and sang to him with some relief, but he just starting sobbing after a few minutes.   I ended up putting the cheerios in a plastic baggie for him to hold and eat out of and voila! Happiness.  We finally made it out the door 20 minutes late.  But once we got to school, the tears started again.  And these were the big, so unhappy and so very sad Mommy is leaving me here tears.  It was awful.  Nothing worked to help him, not sitting at the table eating yogurt melts, not going on to his classroom and playing with his friends.  Nothing.  The assistant director ended up holding him, so I could leave.  My heart was aching.  (when I picked him up they told me it took about 10 minutes, but he did calm down).  Needless to say I was late to work.


After Monday night's meltdown, Tuesday morning was a disaster as well.  I don't know what was wrong with my breakfast presentation.  But it was wrong.  I quickly put the Cheerios in a baggie and that seemed to help, but he still had lots of tears when left at daycare.  Again, I just wanted to run back inside, grab my precious boy and go back home and cuddle and snuggle with him all day.


Thankfully, Tuesday, Wednesday and so far tonight were uneventful.  He went down without a fuss, playing in his crib for about 30 minutes before drifting off to sleep.  Wednesday morning was better, but we still want the Cheerios in a baggie.


But Wednesday lunchtime was another story.  I got a call from the school around 11:15am.  My heart plummeted as soon as Lety told me it was Tate's school on line 1.  Those are 3 words you never want to hear as a working parent in the middle of the day...It's (insert your child's name here) school.  It was the director calling to tell me Tate's teacher asked her to call me because Tate was beside himself not wanting to eat his lunch.  He was refusing to sit down at all and was just crying and crying hard.  That day I had not packed his usual 'side dishes'.  He has always had a side of cottage cheese and fruit with his main meal.  I packed him a yogurt in place of the cottage cheese yesterday to switch things up.  Obviously not a good idea for my child.  They seemed to think he was upset about the empty spot on his tray.  Luckily I had left a little baggie of some puffs in his backpack and I told them to put those in the spot.  


He sat down and ate every last morsel once his lunch was presented in a manner which suited him.


He's been in a funk.  That's what his godmother, my dear friend Shelley, would say.  He's in a funk.  She always said that when her kids were acting 'weird' or outside their realm of normal they were going through something that put them in a funk.  She always tells me to give it time and he should figure it out.  


Sure enough it seems as though he has.  He's sleeping now and has been since 740pm.  This morning breakfast was only met with tears for about 2 minutes, and daycare drop-off was a breeze.  I pray this funk is over.  


Oh, and yes he had cottage cheese in his lunch today.

That's not the face of a kid in a funk, now is it?!

Just a little bit of Tate

I have to write about the so very cute things Tate does!! I do try to keep his yearly calendars up to date, but sometimes he does so many adorable things in one day I can't fit them in the little square!  :)


So, tonight after dinner, we're hanging out in the living room, me on the floor, him messing around with all of my CDs and DVDs putting them in and out of the Blu-Ray player, letting the chosen songs play about 12 seconds each time.  Just enough time for him to get a good butt swing going with some arm action and a goofy, excited grin!  Then he pushes open/close and chooses another!!  Oh and he knows exactly which one will play Keith Urban's guitar (aka 'Put You In A Song'!!);  he can pick that one out of a stack of 74 CDs.  As I'm sitting there drawing on his art table he starts singing 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' all by himself out of nowhere for no reason.  The entire song.  He just moved his little booty back and forth and wobbled his head while he sang.  I didn't want to get up and go get anything to video him because I simply wanted to enjoy the experience.  And I'm so glad I decided to just be in the moment with my little boy.  That little face, that gorgeous smile, those happy eyes...he was just having a great time, singing a little tune to himself.  


Then tonight as I was reading stories to him at bedtime, he climbed down off my lap, grabbed his book 'Moo Baa La La La', sat down on the floor near me in the glider and read the book to his hippo.  He actually said most of the words correctly.  I was enamored of all he can do and all that he has become.  It's just so cool!  :)


Oh and this morning at swim lessons we were practicing climbing out of the pool via the wall.  We were right next to the depth marker written on the side of the pool.  It said 3 FT 6 IN.  He randomly pointed to the 6 and said six!  He then pointed to the T and said 'T'.  The 'T' doesn't surprise me that much since he sees that all the time with his name.  The 6 I will have to say surprised me.  I then quizzed him on the rest of the letters and he got them all but F.  He confuses that with T.  But he also knew the 3!  And maybe most toddlers know these things; in fact I'm sure they do, but it doesn't make me less proud!!!


This little boy and I have come so far.   Two years ago I couldn't have imagined having another human being at my dinner table to talk with (well ask yes or no questions of), someone to sing with in the car, someone to travel with (though traveling with a toddler is not a vacation), someone to fill every nook and cranny of this house with his laughter, his smiles, his antics and his life and someone to make me part of a family.  Sure there are plenty of times when his whining, oh the whining, make me want to scream (and sadly sometimes I simply do lose it) and there are times when I'm just counting the minutes when he goes down for a nap or to bed.  I just need some downtime and some alone time.  And when I'm just craving that alone time, I am beyond grateful I am an SMC because I don't have a partner I have to have in my space. I need the time to just be.  But then I go upstairs to check on Tate.  I hear his sweet breathing.  I see that sweet tush up in the air.  I see those cheeks just sucking away on that pacifier while he's clutching that hippo in his hands.  I smell the smell of my little boy.  And I just want to crawl into the crib with him or pick him out of the crib and cuddle him all night long.  I want him to wake up just a bit to give me a kiss or snuggle in more.  I want it to be morning, so I can see his first morning smile and hug that warm, sleep filled body.


So, I'm off tonight to go check on him.  Then I'll head off to bed;  I'm still trying to decide if I'll sleep in the room with him tonight or downstairs alone.  I'm thinking with him is going to win.  


The sweet sound of my baby sleeping will give me all the rest I need.

Random Musings on a Wednesday Night

Tate is just so damn cute these days.  I cannot get enough of him.  I dawdle with him in the mornings and try to get extra cuddles in the evenings.  He laughs so hard when I tickle him or make some funny noises or faces.  He loves loves loves playing music on our Blu-Ray player; his favorites are anything Keith Urban but especially 'Put You In a Song', and amazingly he can pick out the specific CD and put it in.  He's also loving 'Dancing Queen' by ABBA.  Who doesn't love 'Dancing Queen?'  He puts those cute little arms in the air and wiggles that super duper cute little boy tushy and just makes me smile from ocean to ocean.  And he talks up a storm.  He can make some 3-5 sentences, but he's really great about repeating every single thing I say.  Needless to say I'm extremely careful with what I say;  I've actually been really good about that since he was born.  It is absolutely astonishing how many new things he learns and assimilates every single day.  


This has been a much better week workwise.  Part of it is that I'm alone at the office, so it's quieter and not nearly as hectic, so I can actually think while I work.  Whenever my boss isn't there I don't do operative treatment;  I do the exams.  As the patients are loathe to see anyone but her we usually end up running about 1/3 our normal schedule.  It's not as stressful, or maybe just a different kind of stressful as I'm not holding my breath while I give shots to 2 and 3 year olds this week.  However, it's very difficult to see a patient for a recall exam who has been seeing my boss (the other Dr. C in the office) for 10 years, and I find a cavity on said patient for the first time.  Not conversations I enjoy having with their parents, but I put on my big girl panties and do it.  If they don't believe me or opt to have her do another exam, I just grit my teeth and move on.  


We've got a busy weekend coming up. Thankfully I'm off on Friday.  But it's a packed day.  I have an appointment for blood work Friday morning at 815am.  We have Tate's swimming lessons at 930am.  I have an eye check-up appointment at 11am, so he will be off to daycare after swim lessons.  I then have a physical at 145pm which I am sure to fail on many, many levels.  But I'm excited to see where I am healthwise and to start taking control of my body.  I need to lose weight, I need to exercise...this vessel I am walking around in is begging me to take better care of it.  This will be a wake-up call I'm sure.  I'm just praying I don't hit snooze yet again.  After my appointment I'll pick up sweet Baby Tate and hopefully we'll have time to go play in the park.


Saturday morning we're doing the FAAN Walk for Food Allergy Awareness.  I've raised over $500, so I'm pretty proud of my friends and family who are supporting us.  And I just decided to join the race last Tuesday!!!  In the afternoon we're going to a little birthday party for one of Tate's 'friends' at the train at Hermann Park...one of Tate's most favorite things to do!!!!


Sunday will be Tate and Mommy time!!!  Woohoo!!!


So, tonight I'm heading off to bed hopefully a bit early.  I'm still sleeping downstairs during the week so as to not be disturbed by Tate when he wakes around 5am.  If I'm in the room with him he feels the need to share his joy of the upcoming day with me.  If I'm not in there he happily flips the pages of the books I lay about his crib once he's gone to sleep in the evenings.  But I miss sleeping in the same room as him.  And I can't really say why.  It's obvious he doesn't need me in there with him.  But I miss the closeness I guess.  We spend so much of our day separated that I crave the nighttime closeness though we rarely co-sleep these days (he is all over the bed!!!)  But when I co-sleep with him I love love love the sweet little contented little smile he gives me when he realizes we're going to be sleeping together.  He gathers his little hippo lovey to his face, curls on his right side, cuddles into my left arm and just grins this cheesy, thrilled little grin.  


MMMMMM...I love it.  It brings such joy to my heart.  I wish I could bottle up that pure joy and love and savor it forever.

Playing with the Big Kids

Tate and I came over to my parents' yesterday afternoon after his nap to spend a couple of nights.  I'm on call this weekend, and it's difficult to take him in with me, though I have done it a few times out of necessity.  Single moms have to do what they have to do.  Sometimes  that means bringing their kids to work with them!  The parents of the children I have seen have all understood.  


In any event, we're at my parents.  Tate had a hard night and ended up in bed with me around 945.  Yes, ended up in bed with ME who was already in bed!!  Woohoo!!  I had crawled into bed around 935.  Certainly, I may be the reason he woke up, but he sleeps lightly the first night or so in a new place.  Although Grandmommy and Papa's place isn't new he sometimes has difficulty.  Combined with the fact that he is very congested these days with a cough he sleeps even lighter.  So I just put him in bed with me.  Ugh.  He tossed and turned ALL night long.  I was awakened almost every 2 hours with either a hand slapping my face, a foot kicking me in the back or some sweet baby's hair tickling my nose.  550am came awfully early, but we've had a pretty good day.


We ran out for a Target run while the grandparents went to church.  Yes, yes we should have gone with them, but, well no buts.  We simply didn't.  I need to get Tate back into the habit of attending church.  I miss it, and I definitely want him to have the relationship I have with our Lord, so it's back to our church we shall go.  


The weather here was amazing today!!  Finally, a cold front!!  Ok a Texas cold front!!  The temps today didn't get over 95.  It was in the low 80s this morning, so we walked to the neighborhood park here and played for about 45 minutes.  Tate had a blast throwing rocks, riding the slide and most of all having me push him in the swing...his favorite outdoor pasttime.

Please don't look at the mismatched outfit...
these were the only play clothes at my parents'!!!

After Tate's nap today we headed over to my best friend's parents' house for an afternoon gathering.  They were celebrating their family's August birthdays as well as hosting several family members in from out of town.  I have always been treated like one of the family, and now they have wrapped Tate in their cocoon of love as well.  

This is the first time I have left Tate alone with older kids to play on his own.  Susan, my best friend's kids are 8 (boy) and 5 (girl), there was a 4 year boy and a 7 year old girl.  Tate obviously knows Susan's kids but not the other two.  Susan and I spent some time in the awesome playroom that's set up there for the grandchildren.  Tate is always sweetly shy around new people even kids and will not utter a word!   He gingerly looked through all the toys to see what offerings he might enjoy, showing me each one.  After about 15 minutes I left the room, meandering back every few minutes to check on him, sitting down a couple of times to play with him and the others.  He did so well...never a tear.  He then came into his own.  Though he never spoke to anyone, save me, he ran around looking for chips (his favorite party treat) and asking for help from whoever would give him one, well two...one for each hand!  And by asking I mean looking pathetic and trying to reach the bowl.  He found Susan's Aunt Karen was more than happy to oblige and she became his go to woman.  

I gave him his plate of food from home for dinner (his lunch he didn't touch) and he ate most of it left alone with the other kids in the playroom.  I was so proud of him.  Upon leaving everyone commented on how well behaved he is and of course how very cute he is :)

This parenting thing is fun I've decided.  It is rife with ups and downs, but it's so much fun.  I love having him in my life and being able to share him with others.    And I so enjoy watching him come into his own.  He had an absolute blast playing with the big kids!  What a sweetheart!!!

Hold On

Hold On


I know this pain
Why do lock yourself up in these chains?
No one can change your life except for you
Don't ever let anyone step all over you
Just open your heart and your mind
Is it really fair to feel this way inside?


You could sustain
Or are you comfortable with the pain?
You've got no one to blame for your unhappiness
You got yourself into your own mess
Lettin' your worries pass you by
Don't you think it's worth your time
To change your mind?


Some day somebody's gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don't you know?
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can you hold on for one more day
Things'll go your way
Hold on for one more day

I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and
Break free the chains
Yeah I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and you
Break free, break from the chains

Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day,
If you hold on
Can you hold on
Hold on baby
Won't you tell me now
Hold on for one more day 'Cause
It's gonna go your way

Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can't you change it this time

Make up your mind
Hold on
Hold on
Baby hold on 

*Lyrics by Wilson Phillips (edited a bit for space)


I heard this song as I was walking through the grocery store on Thursday (the day after my last post), and it just buoyed me up as I really listened to the words.  This used to be one of my most favorite songs, and I now remember why, though now for different reasons.


Hold on...if you hold on for one more day, things'll go your way.  These past three days are a testament to that line.  Nothing has really changed, but I feel 100% better.


Like the song says why do I lock myself up in these chains?  Real and imagined chains.  That's exactly how I've been feeling...stuck in this position of mine.  The analogy of the 'golden handcuffs.'  And I'm still feeling stuck, but I know that this is something that I can work on changing over the next few years.  And I am the only one who can make the changes happen.  


So tonight and every other night I'm opening my heart, mind, body and soul to feeling differently.  It is so not fair to my sweet Tate, my family and friends and most of all not fair to myself to not open myself up to the possibilities that just have to be awaiting me.  God is so amazing;  He is not going to let my get mired down by unhappiness and uncertainty.  If I will just try to sit back and let go of my fear and lack of confidence, He will certainly take them on for me.


And you know what, I'm not unhappy.  I'm really not.  I have an amazing little boy.  Amazing little boy. He is the man I waited my whole life to meet.  My family is beyond words with their love, support, kindness and generosity.  And my friends.  My friends.  I have some of the best friends in the world...we may not see each other often or live in the same city, state or even country, but give us 10 minutes together and it's like we were never apart.  Those sister-girls of mine are just precious to me.


And then there are these new beautiful women in my life via cyberspace....I'm eternally grateful for your support and kindness especially those of you who took time out of your very busy lives to offer me a hug albeit a virtual one with your comments (and Tamara!!  one of the hygienists who works with me and knows exactly how I feel...I got a real hug from her Thursday!...thank you my friend).  I feel like I know many of you though we've never met.  Thank you for lifting my spirits and showing me what true kindness is.


And there's Christian.  He read that post.  This man is beyond kind and devoted to Tate and me.  He wrote me the sweetest, most loving message.  I am beyond blessed that God put him in my life right when I was making this most momentous decision to have a child and put it upon his heart to offer to help me out.  Though this relationship we have is beyond outside the realm of anything anyone else could imagine it's working for us.  As well, we realize that this journey we're on is one that really hasn't been paved before, so we take it one step at a time and do what feels right for all 3 of us at the time, all the while knowing Tate and his feelings are the most important here.  We have to make this right for him above all else.  I know we are on the path of doing that for him.  Tate is a very much loved little boy.


So tonight I'm holding on...to hope, to love, to my amazing blessings amidst the sadness I need to allow myself to feel sometimes.  Hope and love.  I'm holding on.

So tired....

Tonight I rocked Tate to sleep for the first time in a very long time.  How I missed that sweet warm body nestled against mine, those soft long lashes against his face, his little breaths misting across my cheeks...that pure baby bliss.


Tate didn't ask to be rocked tonight, nor was he crying when I went in to check on him.  He didn't need me to rock him, but I needed to rock him.  It's been a long, long week.  And it's only Wednesday, and I'm on call this weekend.


Obviously, this has been a bad week at work.  It seems every patient I've worked on isn't happy with my work;  the complaints have been fast and furious it seems.  I'm having difficulty getting patients anesthetized, at least once a day.  And I just don't get it.  I haven't changed who I am or what I do after 12 years of private practice.  And I'm starting to really doubt my capabilities.  I'm so blessed to have a job in this economy, and a job that compensates me so well.   But I'm tired of my heart dropping every time a child cries because it hurts when he/she gets a shot in his/her mouth.  I'm tired of parents casting doubt upon my abilities because I'm not my boss.  I'm tired of feeling incompetent.  I'm tired of feeling less than.   I may not be the smartest person on the block, but noone will be kinder to your child than me.  Noone will try to make them comfortable more than me.  No other dentist almost cries when your child does in fear and pain.  


I'm tired of racing to get out my door every morning at 720am with my son who invariably has to poop 'just one last time' at 718am.  I'm tired of waking up at 545am to only having 80 minutes at most with my son in the mornings, rendering my hair and make-up routine to about 8 minutes and my clothing choices to 'did I wear this on Monday?'  I'm tired of having a 5 minute drop-off at daycare;  I just cannot figure out how to get up earlier to arrive there earlier.  545 is pretty damn early.  I cannot fathom waking Tate before 6.  


I'm tired of not being able go to the PTO meetings because I can't make it there in time (and also due to the fact that my child is starving by 545 and in bed by 715pm).  I'm tired of Tate being one of the last kids at daycare in the evenings.  I'm tired of only having 75 minutes with my child in the evenings and the majority of those precious minutes are spent eating and doing his bedtime routine.


And to make this week even worse, I didn't get home tonight until after 605pm.  My last patient at 4pm who was only 6 years old needed 5 fillings, and I could not get her numb.  At 444pm not one of her teeth was ready to be filled.  I had to hop out of my chair with my patient still laying there, run back to my office, text Lindsey to beg her to please pick Tate up from school and feed him when she had already told me earlier she was going to go home and take a much needed nap before heading out for her run at 630pm.  I don't know what I would do without her.  Tate and I would be lost.  I had my boss come in to see what she thought as I'm always so unsure as to what she would want me to do. I know what I would have done, but I feel I always need to run things by her as we operate quite a bit differently, hence my constant need for her approval (and we've been friends for 19 years!!!!!)  She stepped in to help leaving me feeling like I was a student watching the master.  Finally, at 535 I had to go.  And I always wonder in these situations...'Jennifer what would you do if you were in your own practice?  You would be the be all end all.'  I realize that those thoughts just serve to make me feel so much worse, and I shouldn't wonder about the 'what ifs' because this is what it is.  And this is why I don't own my own practice.  I don't want to be 'the buck stops here' person.  I like having someone else to take the work journey with me who is also the 'be all end all' person.  I was never meant to be a practice owner.  I'm much better as the worker bee...you tell me what to do and how to do it and I'll do the best I can.  I'll defer to you and your ideas, methods and ways.  


But this job choice of mine is not the easiest for a single mother be it by choice or circumstance.  I can't just get up and leave if I haven't finished all my work.  I can't take my work home and do it after Tate is asleep.  I'm stuck, my mind whirling as I try to figure out how the hell am I going to get Tate picked up as well as thinking...this poor kid here at the end of the day is not happy, how can I help her through this?  As pediatric dentists we are swamped after school;  the time I most want to spend with Tate is the time parents most want to spend with me!  


So this has been a long week.  They have so over-scheduled me in the late afternoons my head hurts.  I have so many people scheduled at the same time my head spins.  I don't feel like I'm doing anything right.





But tonight I just need to feel a little sorry for myself.  I need a little cry.  I just don't feel up to pretending I can do all this well and do all of this well alone.  My car still has to be fixed from the accident, so I have to schlep Tate to daycare on Friday then go across town and sit at the car place for who knows how long while it's looked at.  My downstairs a/c unit is on the fritz, and it's been over 105 degrees here for the past 3 weeks.  How am I ever going to find time to be home to have someone look at it?   I have gained more weight than I thought humanly possible.  My back is killing me from the non-ergonomically correct position I'm forced to sit in all day. My garage door is off-kilter.  I need a new washer and dryer as these are on their last legs.  My electric bill is going to be so high I can't even fathom opening the bill next month. My baby Tate has to see a surgeon in a few weeks (nothing major but still)  I'm on call this long weekend, and I'm so not in the mood to be (not that I ever am)  My light fixture in the bedroom has yet to be fixed because I can't seem to get to Home Depot to get another fan for Mike and Bryan to install for me.  My friends are all married, so busy on the weekends, so I feel so disconnected from them lately.   Half of my blinds are falling apart...these ridiculously expensive Hunter Douglas blinds...I have no idea who to call for this.  I worry constantly about my retirement account, Tate's college savings, my emergency savings.  I wonder since I'm taking such crappy care of myself that this baby I wanted to much is going to be left alone in this world, so what the heck is keeping me from taking better care of myself for him?  I do have a physical set of September 9th, so here's hoping I'll get some much needed advice and answers about my sluggishness...is it depression?  or just that I need a 24 hour break?   My sweet Mommy worries me because she's so worried about her memory issues.  My beautiful boy is growing up so fast I can't keep up, and I miss him already.   


And I'm doing this all on my own.  


For all of those reasons I needed to rock Tate to sleep tonight.  To be reminded that all will be right in this world.  As I held him I could feel my heart beat slow down.  I felt at peace.  I may even go grab him and put him in bed with me tonight.  There's no place I'd rather than be than cuddled up with Tate.  mmmmm....I feel better already.