I started this blog almost nine years ago with a list of things I planned to accomplish by my next birthday. I had gotten the idea – of the list, not the blog – from a book I’d read about a woman who took over another woman’s list of big goals and it changed her life. The things on my list had nothing to do with the every day activities of my life at the time and I think that was part of the point. My life was changing in ways that, for the first time in my life, I had absolutely no control over.

Before I had kids, my life sometimes felt out of my control, but it never really was. Of course I had moments when someone else exerted control over me or their choices affected me in ways that made me feel powerless, but the way I moved on from those moments was always up to me. I got to choose the general direction of my life. When I didn’t like jobs or boyfriends or friends or living situations I could choose to leave them behind. I was even lucky enough to be able to choose to stay home with my first child. I had been consistently employed from the age of 16 to 37, but leaving that behind was still my choice. How I handled being a mom to our first baby and then to our second was still under my control.

But nine years ago I first heard the term pervasive developmental delay and my life was suddenly no longer under my control. I was standing in this room, back when it was a spare bedroom rather than my office, on the phone with Dr. G when the world dropped out from under me. I was suddenly propelled into a world of occupational therapy and speech therapy and decisions about evaluations and whose advice to take because nobody seemed certain about anything anymore. I was faced with choices I didn’t know how to make with repercussions I couldn’t fathom, let alone process and understand.

So, looking back, I’m not surprised that I made a list of goals that I could accomplish. It was my way of reconnecting with a familiar world where I had control over outcomes. I made a list of five goals and started a blog I named Destination 140, though it might have been called Desperation 140. I accomplished almost everything on the list by my deadline, too.

• I read 20+ books that I already owned.
• I learned how to knit and made a placemat and half a scarf. I haven’t knit a stitch since, but I think about picking it up again sometimes.
• I wrote a book with a beginning, middle, and end, though it is still unfinished nearly a decade later and I’m STILL working on a version of it almost a decade later.
• I ran a 5k with BC Maven’s help. God, I miss her. Cancer killed another good friend a few weeks ago, one day shy of her 34th birthday. BCM was 35. Fuck cancer.
• I lost 80 pounds from my peak pregnancy weight. I was supposed to lose 100, but decided that I got close enough to count.
• I fit into the purple dress…and started the climb back to my peak pregnancy weight where I currently sit.

None of those achievements changed my life, but this blog did. Writing this blog helped me sort out my feelings about autism. It helped me improve my writing in ways that still surprise me when I look back. It revealed things about myself that I didn’t know until they poured out on the page. It helped me connect to people, even my husband, in ways I’m not capable of in the moment. In person. I even had a friend tell me recently that she knew my blog before we met.

This blog helped me find my authentic voice.

Then the 2016 election happened and I was so appalled by the outcome and the subsequent attitudes of people I had considered friends that I stopped posting here. In truth, I stopped writing altogether. I still have trouble stomaching where we are as a country, as a society, really.

I think I would have eventually come back to this blog, though, had it not been for the school situation. I had blogged about the bullying situation Zoo Keeper experienced in the 2015-2016 school year, discussing the advocate a little bit, though not as much as I thought I had. I put a summary in the post Rock Bottom. In Climbing Out, I wrote:

“Our happy, smiley, silly boy had turned sulky, scowling, and snappish. And angry. His anger was always just below the surface, ready to pounce. His OTs, psychologist, and I all talked to him about figuring out what his body feels like while he’s getting angry so he can learn to do some self soothing before he starts screaming. Or growling. He maintains that it happens too fast to do anything about it, which I think means it’s still too close to the surface all the time.”

We hoped the 2016-2017 school year would be better, but it wasn’t. By the end of that school year, he was home with me much of the time and we pulled him out of public school in desperation after a particularly combative IEP meeting. We put him in a private school that takes special care with traumatized kids for the 2017-2018 school year. Though he liked the school and the teachers there, he refused to go most of the time due to PTSD from the public school situation. He spent most of the year at home with me. His brother also requested to be moved to this private school and by the end of the school year they were both home with me most of the time.

After winter break that year, Zoo Keeper refused to go to school for two solid weeks. He had daily panic attacks, sometimes lasting hours, and the only way I could talk him down was by discussing suing the school district. By the time I got him to go back to the school building, I was convinced that’s what we needed to do, so I went looking for a special education lawyer. Once the lawyer got involved, the school district decided to find an appropriate placement for Zoo Keeper to start in the fall.

I had signed both boys up for summer camps, but BamBam’s depression had already come to a point where he was missing lots of school, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that he refused to attend summer camp more than one day a week. Once again I had a kid at home with me almost all the time.

We had also gotten a dog that was supposed to have been trained as a sensory companion. As it turned out, that meant he needed me to meet his sensory needs. With our other dog and the boys home most of the time, it was like I suddenly had four preschoolers home with me. One of them likes to bark a lot.

Basically, I’ve been running on empty for a long time.

But fall of 2018 brought some relief to our family. The new placement for Zoo Keeper is going really well. He is almost back to the sweet, funny, happy kid he was before third grade happened. It’s wonderful to see him happy again. BamBam is there, too, and he likes it, though he’s not making friends as fast as he’d like. We had tried some depression and anxiety meds for him that didn’t work, so we had a genetic test done that verified those particular meds were not good for him. He’s been on a new one the test recommended for a couple of weeks now. Can’t tell if it’s working yet, but at least it hasn’t made him more depressed like the other two did.

There are still issues for both of them, but I think the dark days are behind us. For now, at least.

I was able to get away for two whole weeks by myself in October. My mom came to stay with Sparky and the boys – Thanks Mom!

I’ve found myself ready to get back to blogging. I’m ready for a new list. But, unlike the one that kicked off this blog, the new list isn’t about finding my way in a new normal. This one’s about reestablishing myself now that I have a little bit of time to focus. I guess it’s about reintroducing focus into my life. Hello, Focus, I’ve missed you.

http://mockingbirdjane.com

Where the previous list was about taking some control back, the new one is about focusing my energy to achieve my goals. I think I need a new blog for that. As this blog grew far beyond the list I made at its inception, I’m sure the new blog will grow beyond its list. I’m hoping to be more of a resource for families with special needs at the new blog, but I’m sure there will be plenty of introspection, too. I can’t seem to help myself in that area.

So, this will be my final post here on Life with the Quirky Boys. I hope you will join me in my new digs over at Mockingbird Jane. Please come subscribe – it’s kind of lonely over there right now. Plus, I wrote a children’s book that I’m about to publish (EEP!) and I want to tell you all about it.

Remember the diet I was on back in October? It’s called The Whole 30 and it really works. The problem is that it’s difficult to stick to – cuts out all grains and grain-like seeds (like corn and quinoa), dairy, legumes (including peanuts), sugar (even artificial or “natural” like stevia), and oils other than olive and coconut. I did very well; lost almost 20 pounds and a pants size in the first three weeks, all with no exercise. The food was delicious and I did not cheat…until the end of the three weeks. That’s when both boys were home sick from school for two days. Home because they each threw up, but neither was sick enough to dampen his energy one tiny bit. At the end of that second day home with them, I was making gluten-free chicken nuggets and I stuck one in my mouth. I hadn’t had a chance to fix anything for myself to eat and I just kind of cracked. It went downhill from there and the only good news is that I’ve gained less than five pounds back in the two-plus months since. I’m still wearing the smaller pants, though just barely.

I heard about the diet from a friend who tried it hoping it would relieve some GI issues. She had great results. I have GI issues as well, but I chose the diet because I was afraid I had developed diabetes. I had gestational diabetes when I was pregnant with BamBam and experienced some hypoglycemic episodes then, but they stopped after he was born. Unfortunately for me, they started again last May. Around the same time, I started having hot flashes. The two explanations for those symptoms that I could think of were diabetes and menopause. I figured the diet couldn’t hurt either way.

The diet also purported to help with various autoimmune diseases, none of which I thought applied to me, and chronic systemic inflammation, which TOTALLY applied to me. I’ll come back to all of that, though.

So, I stopped the diet in early November. In mid-November, after a talk with BamBam’s teachers and some of his therapists, I decided to allow the boys to have some gluten again – they’d been off it since August. It doesn’t seem to affect their behavior, and there seems to be a threshold under which it doesn’t affect their GI systems either. In early December, two friends who have hypothyroid disorders told me separately that they think I have a type of hypothyroidism called Hashimoto’s disease. Furthermore, one of them, who knows me really well, told me the reason she thinks I have it is that I remind her of her before she was treated.

Now, my therapist has been telling me to have my thyroid checked for a couple of years. And I have. Up to that point, I’d had it checked four times in the last three years. All of those tests were within the normal range given by the labs doing the testing. When I told that to my friend, they told me there was a controversy about what ranges to use and that the labs generally went with the wider ranges. So I began to research it and found that she was absolutely right.

More than that, I realized that the symptoms that led me to start the Whole 30 diet could be explained by Hashimoto’s disease. And that Hashimoto’s is an autoimmune disorder. Remember how I said the diet I was on is supposed to address the symptoms of autoimmune disorders? Turns out Hashimoto’s is listed among them in that book. So, another reason to go on the diet. Actually, it’s more a way of eating than a diet.

I called my doctor’s office and asked for a referral to an endocrinologist to discuss possible thyroid issues. I threw in diabetes in case my doc was unwilling to make the referral, but I’m not sure the office even asked her about it. I called the place they referred me to and made an appointment. It was for January 3rd, my birthday, which was almost a month away at the time. Also, our insurance was set to change with the new year, so I called another place to see if I could get in sooner, but the soonest they had was February.

About a week later, I realized I was limiting myself by only checking practitioners close to me. A bigger clinic, one in, say, Seattle, might be able to get me in sooner. So I called the one where both my friends are seen. They had one doctor with a few appointments available on December 26th and 27th. Perfect, I thought. It wasn’t the doctor either of my friends see (I asked them later), but same clinic and who was I to be picky? I told them I’d take it. They told me to hold on because they couldn’t make an appointment until they had a referral from my doctor. No problem, I said, I’ll call them right now.

And I did. I told the staff I needed another referral for hypothyroid sent to this other doctor. They were a little put out, but said they’d do it. The guy asked what my symptoms were and I think this is where I made my mistake. I said something like, “I don’t know, whatever was on the other one…fatigue.” But the guy said he would send it. Actually, he said he’d have the clinic send it. You see, I go to a satellite clinic of a larger organization, so they have a central office that handles stuff like this by telling the satellites to do it. I’ve thought many times about changing doctors, but I really like the fact that they have my test results online where I can look at them myself and that I can email my doctor directly and make appointments online. I’ll put up with a lot of crap for good technology.

I called the Seattle endo place back the next day, but they hadn’t received the referral yet. I called again a few days later and it still wasn’t there. So, I called my doctor’s bureaucrats and was told that it was marked pending, but that she couldn’t see why and would tell the clinic to fax the referral right away.

I called the Seattle endo office again a few days later and still no referral. I called my doctor’s bureaucrats again and was told by yet another person that it was pending. Pending what? Pending verification of insurance. Here’s how the rest of that conversation went, with me getting more steamed by the nanosecond:

Me: Why do you need to verify my insurance for a referral?
Phone Bureaucrat: Well, we need to make sure it’s covered by your insurance policy.
Me: Yeah, I understand why you verify insurance in general, but why do you need to verify it for me to see an outside doctor? You’re just doing the referral, not the service.
PhB: Yes, but we need to verify that your insurance will pay for it.
Me: But this is the doctor that I want to see and I’m willing to pay out of pocket for the visit even if my insurance company doesn’t pay. I just need the referral before they’ll see me. I need the referral before they’ll even let me make the appointment.
FB: Well, we just need to verify that insurance will pay for it.
Me: The payment won’t be coming to you guys anyway, so why the fuck do you care?
Poor FB: I’ll have my supervisor call you back.

You’ve probably already guessed that I never heard back from his supervisor. I did call the Seattle endo office back an hour later and VOILA! My referral had magically arrived. What they did not have were any records on me. No labs and no chart notes, which they needed before they would make the appointment. No problem, said I, I can email the labs to you right now. But they only have ability for fax. Which meant I was going to Kinko’s to spend upwards of $20 to fax them my labs because faxing no longer works with our home phone service. So I trekked out to Kinko’s that afternoon and plunked down my credit card to send them my labs.

And didn’t hear from them for a week, when I broke down and called them. And they still wouldn’t make an appointment for me. Because the lovely people at my doctor’s office had listed fatigue as my only symptom. And my labs show that my thyroid hormones are within the normal range. I argued with them about the validity of those ranges, but they wouldn’t budge. They gave me two options to get an appointment:
Option 1: Have my doctor call the endocrinologist on Monday (December 24th, by the way) to make the case for evaluating me for a hypothyroid disorder. My doctor. The one who has been telling me for three years that my thyroid function is fine and I should just lose weight. Yeah, that’s gonna happen.
Option 2: Have my thyroid levels tested again and send them in. If they were outside the normal range, I could make an appointment with the endocrinologist.

So much for getting in to an endocrinologist before the end of the year. But I did take their advice and got the thyroid tests done again. I already had orders on file for a glucose and lipid panel, so I asked to add the thyroid tests on to those. And I just kept the appointment on the third with the endocrinologist who is closer to me and allowed me to make an appointment the first time I asked for one. And I have resisted the nearly overpowering impulse to write a letter to the Seattle endocrinologist demanding he remove the following statement from his web bio:

“I strive to empower my patients to be active participants in their health care. By thoroughly explaining medical problems and treatment options, my goal is to educate and engage each individual in the decision-making process.”

I’d call that false advertising.

I found my thyroid tests disappointing. They were still within the standard range. Worse, my TSH was actually lower. Or I thought it was worse, until I looked at the functional ranges given in a book recommended by one of my friends called Why Do I Still Have Thyroid Symptoms When My Lab Tests Are Normal? by Datis Kharrazian, DHSc, DC, MS. According to that book, the pattern of TSH levels in Hashimoto’s is all over the map, so at any time it can be in, above, or below the standard range. What’s more, my Free T4 and Free T3 levels along with my TSH fit perfectly with the pattern listed for hypothyroid secondary to the pituitary gland. I printed out those pages to take with me to my appointment so I could use them to fight for an antibody test (the definitive test for Hashimoto’s) if I needed to.

That appointment was this morning. The endocrinologist was not very impressed with my TSH levels, though she did note that my T4 levels were consistently straddling the low number of the standard range. She was, however, very concerned about my glucose levels and, especially, my cholesterol. So, I got the standard lecture about diet and exercise and an admonishment to take my cholesterol medications (I stopped taking them while I was on the diet). I endured and promised I would (that was my plan anyway) and that I would figure out a way to exercise around my plantar fasciitis. My glucose levels aren’t high enough to make me a diabetic, thanks in part, I think, to my three weeks without sugar, but my fasting blood glucose is consistently over 100, so she prescribed a medication that’s supposed to help with that. And she ordered the antibody tests for Hashimoto’s. I didn’t even have to pull out my research. She told me I could wait and do the antibody test in six weeks when I have my cholesterol and glucose checked if I didn’t want to have my blood drawn twice. She obviously doesn’t know me at all. I drove straight to the phlebotomist from her office. The results should be in by Monday. I just wish her office had the technology to put them online.

Insomnia and fatigue are two of the symptoms of Hashimoto’s thyroiditis and I have both in spades right now. So, if this post is a little flatter than my usual stuff, I’m totally blaming it on that.

Monday weight: 253.4

The movie French Kiss is a guilty pleasure of mine. There’s a moment when the heroine is telling her ex-fiance not to feel guilty about what he did to her and she stops and tells him to go ahead and feel guilty. “Swim in it ’til your fingers get all pruney.”

This week has been a crazy one in Quirkyland. On Monday, Zoo Keeper had his school award ceremony and was called an animal expert by his teachers. We all think that’s pretty cool. And true. Sparky took him to his school’s field day on Tuesday and then school was out for him.

BamBam’s afternoon class has been out for a couple of weeks, but the morning class lasted until this week. They had a class party/concert for the last day of school on Tuesday. He practiced hard and knew all the songs and moves, but I only know that because he sings and dances when we watch the video at home. During the actual concert, he was way overstimulated by all the extra people and the heat of the room. So he didn’t participate much. Here, I’ll show you:

I am a Pizza 2012  *(I apologize to those of you without QuickTime, but this was the only way I could get the video small enough for WordPress to let me post it.)

Yes, that’s me sitting behind him. He entered the room crying and had just submitted to sitting in a chair when he spotted me and lost it all over again. He ran to me and refused to rejoin his class until his teacher asked if he wanted me to go with him. He did, so I did. For all the parents who now have me on their kid’s video: You’re welcome.

He did end up participating a little, especially on the pirate song. When she asks for rhymes for numbers, he just shouts the number back at her until she acknowledges him. Yes, BamBam, five does rhyme with five. That’s the wonderful, fabulous, amazing, best-special-ed-teacher-in-the-multiverse he’s shouting at, by the way. Oh, wait, I forgot to show it to you. Here it is:

Pirate Ship 2012  *

The reason everybody laughed when they’re rhyming four and one of the kids said, “Nor,” is because that’s the name of one of the girls in the class. And, yep, on ten the little girl in the back said she pooped. It was pretty funny, even to me, and I was having a rough time with my boy.  He really did not want to be there and I can’t blame him.  He didn’t understand what all those people were doing there or why they were staring at him. I think his teacher had tried to explain it, but his receptive language just isn’t that sophisticated yet. He didn’t get it. And it was hot in there with all those bodies. And it was a change in routine. He doesn’t like those. Not one little bit.

On a side note, BamBam’s expressive speech is really coming along. He talks all the time, though we still don’t understand most of what he says, which is frustrating for all of us. He’s pretty patient with me, though. At least for the moment. It took me forever to figure out what he was saying when he would do humpty dumpty. Or that “schwimpy fush” means slippery fish, which is a song they sing at school. And I only really got that because Zoo Keeper’s school sang the same song a couple of years ago, so I knew the words. Unfortunately, it was pretty easy to get the new phrase he uses when he’s hungry: “Chicken stwip backet wiff gwaby?” I don’t know where he learned that. Honest.

Anyway, when BamBam and I met Sparky and Zoo Keeper at home and then Sparky left for work, the reality of summer set in. I’m home with these guys for two months with a schedule that changes every week. There’s no set routine. The boys are in some camps, but they are at opposite times, leaving me with next to no downtime this summer.  And these guys are…high maintenance.

What I’m trying to say is that I realized in that moment how much this week was going to suck. Not that I didn’t already know it, I am the one who manages the schedule after all, but at that point I could feel it in my bones. And I’d started back on the Program diet that morning. The first week on the program is the hardest because your body goes through a kind of withdrawal and you feel like complete crap. Major headaches and grumpiness. Great.

I had pretty much decided to postpone the diet (again) until next week. So, I was standing in my kitchen trying to figure out what kind of pizza to order when I just stopped. I thought about how hard the diet would be and how hard the non-routine quirky-boy time would be and I decided to just throw myself in the deep end. Swim in it ’til my fingers got all pruney.

They’re pretty pruney, but I’m still standing. And it’s Friday. And I’ve lost six pounds. With no exercise. Because, no, I did not add that in this week. I’m not a complete lunatic. Please don’t disabuse me of that notion.

So next week I’m starting back to the gym. Wish me luck.

P.S. I’m getting kind of an angry vibe off of Sparky, who just walked in and realized I still haven’t unloaded the dishwasher yet, so I’m off to help. Cheers!

I’m 43 today. My mom’s pretending I’m 23 because of what her youngest child being 43 means in terms of her own age*, but I’m actually glad I’m not 23. I was pretty clueless and lost at 23. There’s been a lot of growth for me in those 20 intervening years. It wasn’t all fun, but most of it was worthwhile and I’m glad to be who and what I am today. I started to call this Happy Birthday, Loser, because it’s going to contain info about resolutions I made last year that I didn’t follow through on, but I don’t actually think I’m a loser and I decided to own that more this year. And to be nicer to myself. So, Happy Birthday, Self. You’re pretty awesome, if you do say so yourself, and you do.

As I said, I didn’t have a lot of follow-through on my 2011 List. Here’s the breakdown:

Well, that’s half done, which is better than I thought when I sat down to write this. You all know 2011 was pretty rough for me, so let’s just call it good and move on to the 2012 List.

Pretty much the same as last year with a few tweaks. I don’t know what I weigh today and there’s no way I was stepping on a scale on my birthday, so I don’t know exactly how much I gained last year. I do know that it was more than the 50 pounds I lost on the Program. So this year my goal is to get back to where I left off with the program. If I manage more, great, but I’m not going to push for it. I’m planning to start back on the program next week (too many birthday plans this week), so I’ll post my weight here as of Monday morning and every Monday or Tuesday after that.

I am going to push for exercise. I want to start running again. I had trouble with it after my surgery – it was a longer recovery than I expected. But I think I’m ready to start again, so I’m going with my goal from the first list of running a 5k.

With the boys in school, I’ve got some free time coming up. I’m not use to that and am trying to ease into it so that I don’t go crazy filling it up with stuff and end up burnt out by February. One of the things I know I want to use it for is writing. I plan to blog every week, but I also plan to finish a first draft of a novel. That’s not a crazy goal. It’s within my grasp and I’m going to do it.

The last goal, logging the books I read, is just a continuation of the goal from last year. I like doing it. I can look back at the list and remember that I did take time for myself. Time to read, which renews my spirit and helps me cope with this fast-paced world. It’s important and I’m worth it.

So, not a crazy list, but a doable list. I can do this and I’m going to. Thanks for the support!

*She’s kidding about the 23 thing and Mom will probably be by later to tell you that herself. At least it will get her to comment. 🙂

Today was supposed to be my first day back on The Program; the beginning of hard-core exercise and a few weeks of a very restrictive diet that would give way to a sustainable low-calorie, well-balanced diet. Only yesterday was quite taxing and I didn’t go to bed until 11, which led to turning off my alarm when it went off at 5:15 without waking up enough to realize I’d done it. So, today’s exercise…not so much. I haven’t eaten anything off plan yet today, but I can feel that coming based on my morning.

BeBop turned five in May. He’s not quite ready for kindergarten, but the public schools don’t allow kids who are already five in their developmental preschool program. His old preschool was not an option for various reasons, so he started kindergarten prep at a new school today. It’s a private religious school and we’re not at all religious, so it felt kind of weird. It’s a good school, though, and its primary purpose is education, so we’re good with it. And he’ll already have a friend there because J, who we carpooled with to his old school, will be in his class this year as well. The new school is much closer to home, but I’m still excited to continue carpooling.

Plus, all the kids in the new school learn Japanese. How cool is that?

We went to meet his teachers last week and they were very warm and welcoming. I discussed his diagnosis with them and they seem ready to work with us to make this a great year for him. The classroom is fabulous – even has a loft/clubhouse type area in one corner with a ladder and everything. He has to wear a uniform, but he doesn’t seem to mind it. I think part of that is that the optional sweaters are red, his favorite color.

As we were putting on BeBop’s uniform this morning, he said something about J telling him to go away. This was not a good omen. He hasn’t even seen J for several weeks. It’s something J used to say to him sometimes, mainly to rile him, and BeBop just can’t seem to let it go. The kid’s memory is better than mine used to be, and I passed a 400-level modern algebra class by memorizing 4- to 5-page proofs that might appear on the tests. I was not happy to have him bring this up. Breakfast seemed to go well, though, so I thought it had passed.

So, BamBam and I took BeBop to his first day of school this morning.

The best full picture I could get in his uniform.

BeBop and J

My favorite pic of the day.

And there he goes…

As we were exiting the car, BeBop spotted J in the parking lot and shouted, “You’re not my best friend anymore*, J!” Ugh. I don’t think J heard that. I really hope not, anyway. He doesn’t need that baggage on his first day of school. I’m sure he has some of his own to carry. I never realized that about kids this age, but I think it’s true. I had a little talk with BeBop before I let him continue out of the car and he seemed fine after that. I hope it will last.

BamBam, however, was another story. He was okay while we were walking from the car to the front of the school. Then there was a lot of milling around of all 100 kids and their families. Not so great for BamBam. He got extremely over stimulated and it only escalated from there. The principal led the school in the school prayer and the Pledge of Allegiance. BamBam screamed throughout both and bit me at least twice. I considered asking the principal if she was glad I hadn’t let her talk me into enrolling him in the twos class. Had I known this was the procedure for the first day, I would have done some things to make it better for him. Like bring his headphones. I’m going to send an email to BeBop’s teacher and ask for a heads-up when things like this will happen again. I think I might have gone home and had a drink if I hadn’t had to drive him to speech therapy.

Now I’m sitting in my car waiting for him to finish occupational therapy (after speech for today only) while a woman circles my car talking at full volume into her cell phone and I contemplate running her over. Go sit in your own damn car, lady. Why do you find it necessary to invade my peace? She now has her back to me so she can’t see me giving her the stink eye. I wonder if she’d go away if I started honking.

Ahem.

Anyway, I’m not sure the whole diet thing is going to stick today. I’ve told you before that I eat my stress and I seem to be quite stressed today. Tomorrow is another day. And it’s also a day I get to see my therapist, so that should help a lot.

*On the way home, I asked BeBop who he played with at school and the answer was J. He said J is his best friend again now.

First, an announcement: The Benefit Concert for Japan is this Saturday night at 7* pm. If you’re in the greater Seattle area, please consider supporting this worthy cause. You can get tickets here.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled babblings.

Yeah, I know, there’s no weight up there this week. I have a good reason, though: I’ve decided to stop weighing myself for the time being. It serves no purpose other than to taunt me right now. I’m going to concentrate on eating healthier things, meaning things that don’t make me feel physically sick by irritating my digestive track, and exercising regularly. I hope that those two things will help me fit into smaller pants, or at least not require bigger ones, but that’s really just a side effect at this point. I need to do it to help me feel better. Period.

I also need it to fit into my current life, rather than trying to shoehorn my current life into a diet plan. Which is part of the reason I’m putting the GFCF diet on hold for the moment. I just can’t deal with it right now and that’s going to have to be good enough. We’re taking BamBam to a developmental pediatrician this week. I plan to talk to him, as well as our regular pediatrician, about the lab tests and the diet. Until then, and maybe for a while after, it’s on hold.

That’s all I can manage today, so I’ll leave you with a card I found last week that spoke to me:

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*ACK! Edited to reflect the correct time for the concert. Sheesh!