Shokufeh is... home

Tethered

Note to self:
Next time, before you set out to do battle-by-phone with the health insurance company, empty your bladder.

The PIF-ers

I didn't forget about you pay it forward-ers. I've just been immersed in my hives, and their possible sources. I'm hoping I just did something toward a hive-free life. Maybe February will be the month when I start to move more toward clarity. I really feel like I'm muddling through life these days. So many things I've been wanting to write about, but I can't seem to clear the noise in my head. (That did say "nose in my head," which is another thing that's been stuffed. ) Is this why people turn to medicating themselves on a daily basis?

Out of the recesses of my mind!

So, I would like to pay it forward to Arin, Hannah, and Holly. Sorry that I'm saying this ten days after I said I would. And, let's be honest - the gifts aren't going in the mail until after Mardi Gras. Lucky for you, it's early this year.

Daycare and hives, part 2

Today MrMan started at his new daycare. For ages, we've been talking about the "new neenees" and Ms. X and Ms. Y. If there's one thing I learned from MrMan's warm welcome of Ameh Joon, it's that talking about things ahead of time, makes it go more smoothly when the moment arrives. However, I did notice that this weekend, MrMan often brought up his now-former classmates when talk turned to the new neenees. And this morning, he seemed a bit anxious. As we went from the car to the school, he wanted to move from Sam's arms to mine. And you could tell that as we were going down to the hall to his classroom, he was working hard at holding it together. As Sam greeted one of his coworkers and we came in sight of MrMan's teacher, the floodgates burst. He eventually calmed down enough to participate in activities, but cried again as we left to go to work. I half expected a call asking me to come get him, as their policy is that if a child is having a hard time adjusting, to work up to a full day. But, we made it through to 5 pm, when I walked the block to get him. And he had a great day! With this setup, we were home by 5:30, even with a couple of detours. We all had energy to goof off for a while. It didn't hurt that our dinner cooked last night in the slow cooker - my first time - so there was nothing to do but goof off.

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The hives. I spent a lot of the weekend sleeping. A major part of that was due to the Benadryl. That stuff knocks. me. out. I think a minor part of it was the general malaise that sent my body to hivesville in the first place. I don't know much about hives, but given that histamines are involved, and I find myself battling histamines more when my body is run down, it seems plausible. My theory is that my body has been fighting off several things - infection, allergies, asthma - which have been feeding off of each other and my stress and the debris that is in the air from the building demolition next to my office. I've had allergy issues for a long time, but I've had hives only one other time in my life - in September 2004 - during one of the most stressful weeks of my career. (So much so that I didn't document it at the time, but I should because it's kind of funny.) I feel like this weekend's hives were a reminder to chill the hell out. They came back again last night, by the way. But no puffy lip this time.

Having said all that, I decided not to go to the doctor. I don't think I would get much out of it, other than a prescription for an antihistamine. (And perhaps another annoying and faulty out-of-network fee.) I feel like I can't provide enough information to shed light on the cause. For now, I'll keep the Benadryl handy and try to find that balance and clarity I referred to a few weeks ago. Now I know why people like pills so much - it seems like such the easier option.

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Unrelated: Yesterday, MrMan saw his first movie in the theater: Enchanted. And he did awesome sitting through it. There were a few moments of boredom, one of which he relieved by breaking into song ("Rhino..."), but he seemed to mostly enjoy it. As did Sam and I.

Daycare and hives

Today Yesterday was MrMan's last day at his preschool. He's been there a few weeks shy of a year. For most of that time, I felt like it wasn't the place for him, not quite the right fit. He seemed to agree, as, many mornings, he burst into tears as I left him in his classroom. Nonetheless, I feel a little nostalgic about leaving. I'll miss the staff and teachers, the other kids and parents. I made little goodbye/I'm moving photos for his classmates. It's my favorite trick these days - adding text to a photo, then printing it at Walgreen's. Image and message all in one.

This afternoon, I went to pick him up and make sure we got all his stuff. As I was sitting in traffic, I realized that probably part of the reason I felt compelled to leave our contact info with all of his classmates is that I still have friends from this phase of my life, and I want him to have that same option. My mom (who was meeting me there to take MrMan, while I went back to work) beat me to the preschool so gave me the report that MrMan seemed to understand that there was something different today. He made a bigger production of his goodbyes, hugging a couple of his classmates and saying bye. A lot of days, he just leaves without a word.

Next week, it's the "new neenees."

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It may have escaped your notice, but it's three in the morning. Welcome to tonight's episode of Shokufeh-has-turned-into-an-old-woman-and-can-only-talk-about-her-health-problems. An hour ago, I was awakened by a bout of coughing. Then noticed a few hives. They started appearing, only a few at a time, in random spots on the body, at random times. The coughing's been going on for a couple of weeks, changing in nature, accompanied by various things. Today, I developed the ebola. Or, really, some blisters, on the inside of my mouth. So, back to why I'm up. I thought it weird that my body developed hives while I'm sleeping - I'm not exposing myself to anything new, except dreams. I get up and look in the bathroom mirror and notice that my lip is slightly swollen. Starting to freak out a little, I asked Sam to go get the Benadryl he's been suggesting. Yes, even though it's the middle of the night. Yes, even though I kept refusing it when it would been more convenient to get. (That is my editorializing. My sweet husband graciously went to the drugstore.) By the time he came back, I was feeling like my lip was bigger. Sam agreed with me. But I was still surprised when I saw myself in the mirror. I hope this Benadryl works soon.

I've been kind of thinking I should go to the doctor, but I was so unimpressed with the last internal medicine doc I saw. Layer on that the fact that I've been having to make numerous calls to several parties, trying to clear up some billing issues related to my headcuts (an entry I've been meaning to write), the only thing I've done is to take my mother's newly prescribed asthma inhaler.

Must they grow so fast?

Make sure to comment on my PIF entry!

Holly's recent entry reminds me of the things that I fear MrMan is losing or has lost. Recently, he jokingly said "dar-dar," what he used to call vehicles. Now he says car and truck. I get a little sad thinking about my little guy growing up and changing his vocabulary, even if it means more people can understand him. This morning, he said his standard and oh-so-cute, "A'mon," as he grabbed my hand and led me to the living room. I repeated, "A'mon," which he then followed with a very clear, "C'mon." But I think the potentially most heartbreaking language change is the fact that he now, sometimes, calls us "Mommy" and "Daddy." I was ready to be "Mee" for the rest of my life. I can handle the other language changes, but I'm hoping this one is just a glitch.

Laughing at myself

Sometimes wires get crossed. Some of those crossings are more amusing than others. Just now, I read a headline that said "Entertainers named in steroid report." I read every word of that headline clearly, but my brain processed the meaning of steroid as meteoroid. So I was picturing these entertainers involved in the trafficking of rocks from outer space. I'm not sure what I was thinking. Except that Shirley MacLaine must be involved.

PIF

Keep reading. There may be something in it for you. Just keep scrolling. And comment!

Over the past few months, MrMan can sometimes be heard yelling, "Pi-i-if! Pi-i-if!" My mom taught him this word - it's a colloquial way of saying stinky in Persian. I think my mom's thought was he could use it in relation to his solid waste. But I think MrMan's thought is that he can use it whenever he wants to attract attention. Early on, I thought it was a summoning to change his diaper. I eventually realized it's just a summoning.

But that's not the kind of PIF I'm talking about. The kind of PIF I'm talking about is more like this article: Where Dreams Live. Except that it doesn't involve a restaurant or $10,000. (Read the article. It's touching.)

It does involve a beautiful handmade card and felted coffee cuff that I (and two other bloggers) recieved from GreenStyleMom, after she (and two other bloggers) received another gift.

So now it's my turn to pay it forward to three other bloggers (who should then pay it forward as well).
If you'd like to participate, please leave a comment. I will choose the PIF-ers on or around January 18.

Pop, are you reading this?

Sunday, in honor of Epiphany*, I made a big dinner of BBQ tofu, mashed potatoes (both sweet and white-with-garlic), and greens. We invited my parents and assigned them the job of bringing the king cake. As we officially pass from Christmas to Mardi Gras season, we must have king cake. My personal goal each year is to eat enough of it that I get sick of it, until next Epiphany. This will be a challenge this year, with Mardi Gras so early - February 5.

I am a big fan of the plain king cake. No need for fancy fillings. No need for cinnamon layers. Jjust give me baked dough with sugar on top. I think this is the only time, when it comes to food, that my thought is cheaper is better. My all time favorite king cake is that of McKenzie's. I still have fond memories of going to the McKenzie's on Oak Street (what is now the Oak Street Cafe), picking up a big cake to take to school. The sweet smell, covered with alternating strips of purple, green, and gold sugar, and multicolored sprinkles. (Their signature look.) McKenzie's was the best. But is no longer. However, Tastee Donuts makes their king cakes now. I will be procuring one in the near future.

I digress. Sunday, my father stopped at the grocery store. He got a plain king cake. You'd think this would be good, except that their version of plain king cake does not match mine. It was just a ring of cake, with no sugar on top, and swirls of cinnamon inside.

I've given him a chance to redeem himself. Yesterday, my mom was over and we all finished the king cake. With the exception of one small piece. I tucked the baby's feet into that sliver, wrapped the whole thing in plastic wrap, and sent it home with her to my dad. Whoever gets the baby is responsible for bringing the next cake. I'm hoping he'll carry through and bring one over tonight.

*One of the side effects of growing up in New Orleans is that I'm more focused on Epiphany that many Catholics.

I see a trip to Walgreens in my very near future

For the past couple of days, I've really been craving some Cheetos. In general, I'm a big believer in giving my body what it calls out for. I figure it knows best. However, it's usually spinach, or berries, or noodles, or something else that qualifies as real food. Do I have an imbalance of processed foods in my body? I certainly can't have a shortage of fat - that is plain to see. I would look up the ingredients of Cheetos, but I'm afraid that what I'll find out will keep me from enjoying the bright orange snack.

Update: I caved. My consolation is that my tongue is not orange. They can't be all that bad.

Ah, Friday

After eleven days of not having to go to work (yes, both Sam and I were off from Christmas to New Year's), I was feeling kind of ready to have more structure to my days. But, tonight, I'm happy it was only a three day work week. This week also included very cold temperatures (reminding me that maybe I don't miss Chicago all that much), dinners at home (but my parents still couldn't resist stopping in to see MrMan), and saying goodbye to Anis and Jennifer.

Apropros of nothing, in the past week, MrMan has, on different occasions, enjoyed eating jellyfish and toasted seaweed. Man, I love my kid.

Happy 2008

I've been contemplating the past year, as well as the year to come. I probably would have benefited from some list making, but just couldn't be bothered. For right now, I'm content enough with the other lists - groceries to stock our empty larder, the things to remember to take from my parents' house, the items we need/want to make our new place more comfortable and organized.
No concrete resolutions have yet revealed themselves. However, I would be more than pleased if I can cultivate two things:
1) balance
2) clarity
As I type these words, I think they sound so purple and crystal-y. But I'm realizing I would really benefit from some moderation and being happy with the little steps. And breaking free of the fog and the feeling that I'm muddling through life these days.

We brought in the new year with sparkling cider, praline toffee cheesecake, and Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story - all enjoyed on our comfy folding chairs. I didn't expect to really like the movie, but it was interesting and I've been thinking about it since.

Yesterday afternoon, we went downtown - to enjoy the UH fans, and experience the "snow" on Fulton Street. Harrah's hotel and casino has been sponsoring this daily "miracle" of snow fallng on the hour every hour. I thought it would be fun for MrMan to experience snow - even if engineered and sparse - especially since one of his favorite Christmas gifts has been The Snowy Day. Turns out these blizzard machines are shooting out bubbles. Bubbles! My child now thinks snow = bubbles. Crazy! He had fun, but I'm left wondering if we can fit in a visit to Chicago this winter, so he doesn't live with this bizarre misconception.

I have been so touched seeing all these fans from Hawaii, here for the Sugarbowl. That they've come thousands of miles, from the place I last lived, gets me all teary. It's been so wonderful to see their spirit, including two little boys we saw at Canal Place - when we went to see Juno (good movie) - who had UH designs bleached into their hair. As we walked around, I just wanted to approach people and tell them I used to live there. And that it seems a bigger piece of my heart than I realized was left behind.

And the part that's with me is breaking a little bit at the way the game is currently going.