doctors and needles

Poor Naomi is having quite the week. In addition to her trip to the emergency room (nose is fine now), the rounds of immunizations for the trip to Nepal have begun. So far she has had three within 8 days. There will be the last hepatitis A/B shot in 14 days, plus 3 rabies shots, 1 for Japanese encephalitis, and I don't think that's the full list. And although she was an angel for the first 2 needles, so brave she didn't even cry, after the nasal nightmare at the hospital, she has developed a bit of a generalized fear of all medical professionals- I imagine this is perfectly rational from a 4-year-old's perspective. At the hospital, they let me give her the sedative medication up her nose ("trust me, I'm an epidemiologist.."). Today she got all worked up, and was crying so hard she didn't even notice when the doctor shot her in the ass. Once again I had to promise Scooby-Doo (I hate that damned dog) and more chocolate ice cream.

the holidays aren't complete without a trip to the ER

This is the toy responsible for all the trouble. I don't know what possessed her, but Naomi felt compelled to shove a small piece of green fun foam up her left nostril yesterday. When I asked her why, all she could come up with was, "I didn't want it on the couch." Somehow, in her barely four-year-old brain that made sense. She came running up the stairs crying hysterically, blood pouring down her face, I was terrified, I had no idea what she'd been up to. To make matters worse, Michael was at work, meaning we were at home with no car, and on top of that we were in the middle of a freezing rain storm. I did the only thing I could do, I called my blessed friend Sandra to bail us out (yet again), and off we went to the Emergency Room. Once the initial panic wore off, she was even calm enough to nap on the drive to the city, and played happily enough with another stricken child in the waiting area. But it would not end that simply, oh no. She rammed that thing up there good and tight. The poor thing was (justifiably)terrified, asking me how they would get it out. Well, for a time it seemed even the medical professionals weren't quite sure what to do, as the first attempts using suction and then pincers were not only unsuccessful, but made matters much worse for poor Naomi's state of mind. Oh, god, it was awful. I hate to lie to my child, but she kept asking if it would hurt. I hate to see her cry, she hardly ever does, and I'm not sure she has cried that much ever in one day. It was all I could do not to cry myself, as it took two of us to pin her arms and secure her head as she was screaming in fear, saying, "it hurts, it hurts!" The first doctor couldn't get it out, so they sent in the ENT specialist (some guy young enough to be my boy-toy love-slave. His class ring was dated '06, I hate it that doctors and lawyers and other professionals I might need can now be younger than me, when did that happen?!). He couldn't get it either on the first attempt. Now Naomi is truly freaking out. I had to bribe her with everything I could think of: unlimited viewing of her favourite Scooby-Doo video, popcorn, and chocolate ice cream. In the end they had to use 3 drugs: 1 to sedate her (that one left her stoned and stumbling like a drunk afterwards), one to numb her nose, and one to shrink the nasal tissues. It still took a few attempts, but finally, a squishy, bloody, green fun foam rectangle emerged.

I have now officially earned my mommy wings. And I did let her watch her video and make her popcorn today, with a promise of ice cream for tomorrow, true to my word.

Birthday planning

Today is the last day that I will be the mother of a 3-year-old. Tomorrow is Naomi's fourth birthday, being celebrated by a big party. I am up to my eyeballs in tasks required to get this crazy house of ours ready for 12 small children and their parents. The house truly is in chaos, but perhaps somehow it will all come together in the end. Right now the kitchen table remains disguised by piles of mail, bills, and general junk, there is a ladder waiting for me to finish painting one wall in the living room, which for some reason we decided was absolutely necessary before we could have visitors in our living room (we have been meaning to paint and rearrange the furniture for about 2 years. We are world-class procrastinators in this house).

I have to admit it is very exciting. I am really a grinch when it comes to xmas, but this year I am almost getting into the spirit, and even enjoying it a bit. I went on a mad shopping spree for party supplies, birthday gifts (and it's daddy's birthday in 5 days too), xmas gifts, decorations, all I need to do now is put one more coat of paint on the wall, get a tree, decorate it, clean the kitchen table and put out food etc for the party, finish making the treat bags with Naomi, move the furniture, vacuum, tidy, go to the grocery store, and make sure Naomi and I have baths...sure, we can do all this by 11:00 am tomorrow...

Free parenting advice

Don't decide to spontaneously cut your child's hair with children's safety scissors. I was brushing Naomi's gloriously long, yogurt-encrusted hair today when I thought I'd just quickly trim a wee bit off the ends, and reached for the pair of blue-and-purple safety scissors with the rounded ends that happened to be sitting next to me on the end table. Big mistake. Although they are definitely sharp enough to cut hair, they don't cut evenly. After the first 'incision' this became obvious, and yet I stubbornly continued on, too lazy to get up and retrieve a pair of proper scissors from the kitchen. Naomi remained mercifully unaware (I don't think she noticed the fact that I was cutting her hair at all, that might have actually freaked her out, as I've only ever trimmed it twice in her nearly 4 years), and in the end, I don't think anyone will notice.

Acts of kindness- Do It For The Kids!!

In the spirit of Bloggers Unite Acts of Kindness Day, do something nice today. I made my husband coffee. But I do more than that. If I could be anything I wanted when I grow up, I would like to be a philanthropist. I'm broke, but I give stuff away all the time. Research does show that poorer people give proportionately more of their income to charity than rich people. I have fantasized about winning the lottery and traveling the world over-tipping harassed waitresses, and topping up people's parking meters for them. Did you know it is actually ILLEGAL to put money in someone else's parking meter?! One more reason the world makes no sense to me. I always try to put something in the Food Bank donation box at the grocery store. I give granola bars to homeless people on the street (there's often a granola bar in my purse even when there isn't any money). I hate Christmas, I often don't even celebrate it (now I am made to because of Naomi), but I do always give new toys to the Salvation Army toy drives. And I'm slaving away in academia so that someday I can change the world, a tiny bit. I am basically a good person, underneath the sarcasm and cynicism.

If you don't feel that you have committed enough acts of kindness lately, you can always donate to your favourite charity, give the next homeless person you see a bill instead of spare change, forget about work and go play with your kid(s), give your wife a foot massage for no good reason - there are a million things to do out there.

And if you want to improve your karma,
click the donate button :-)
Do it for the kids!

Happy Day All.

Boycotts and blizzards

I hereby call for a boycott of Esso Imperial Oil. Despite my "automatic delivery" home-heating plan, for the 3rd time, we ran out of oil last night. No big deal, right? After all, it was only -15 degrees celcius outside (I'm not sure what that is in fahrenheit, but it's f*@king cold!). After visiting the scary but no-longer flooded basement (after all, if it was still flooded, it would be a personal ice-rink) to ensure it was lack of oil and not the furnace, I proceeded to the next logical step: call the oil company's emergency no-heat line. The first time I called, at 10 pm, I was on hold for several minutes before BEING DISCONNECTED! The second time I called, I did get through to someone after a few minutes who gave the (erroneous) impression that she was on top of the situation, and was dispatching a technician right away. With no indication of any technician on the horizon, and increasing fears that the taps would freeze yet again (oh yeah, not to mention the fac that by this point I was FREEZING!), at 11:15 I called back, to hear that dreaded message, "We are currently experiencing a higher than usual call-volume. You're estimated wait-time is 30 minutes." Great. After waiting more than 30 minutes, and watching the thermometer drop from 7 down to 6 degrees, eventually I got through, only to get the same telephone operator. She assures me she has called the technician, and that she will call again, and that she will even give me the number to call myself. But as she's talking it becomes apparent that she hasn't actually talked to anyone, only left a message on someone's voicemail. I knew that was a bad, bad sign. The number she gave me yielded a recorded message saying that hours of operation are 8-5, and spouts out 2 cell numbers and an 888 toll-free number. I left messages on both cells, and called the 888 number only to be told by yet another recording that this number was not available in my area. What?! Just after midnight I realized no one was coming. I crawled into bed with Naomi, she always has hot feet.

And this morning, when I called promptly at 8am, I learned from a new operator that the woman I talked to the night before CALLED THE WRONG NUMBER! She never talked to the technician because she didn't call the 24-hour number! By the time they did find a man with an oil truck, it took another 2 hours for him to get here, by which time the ambient air around my sofa had dropped to -2 degrees (that's about 31 fahrenheit, or f*@king cold).

I am changing oil companies Monday morning.

And the blizzard they predicted started an hour ago. Bet the power goes out just as the house starts to get warm.

From the past into the future

Don't be misled here, I have traveled before, but make no mistake: I was never traveling on a trust fund. I traveled to Israel on a full academic scholarship the first time, and to Northern Ireland on student loans I have yet to pay off more than a decade later. I worked my way around the world. When I couldn't find a job at home, I worked overseas instead (and as a consequence my Canadian pension funds are virtually nil, as I wasn't even living here to be contributing through much of my 20s). I was a cocktail waitress at 15 in Estoril, Portugal, a coffee shop waitress, and bartender at a United Nations Base (that was a great job) in Israel. I taught sociology at university in Belfast, I worked on 3 different kibbutzim, and then there was that year I spent in the Israeli army...I paid my own way. It seemed possible to move anywhere in the world with just $500 in your pocket.

But I was young and single then. Now I am a mom, and the proud owner of a mortgage, and worse yet, my husband has a day job. This does make it much harder to get away, I have been waiting not-so-patiently for years now. Excepting a fairly awful Florida vacation of less than a week last January, and 1 trip so Naomi could meet her grandmother in Ireland when she was 4 months old, I have barely moved beyond a 100-mile radius since 2002. They aren't kiddding when they tell you everything changes after you have a baby, even though Michael and I never planned for it to be the end of our traveling. Still, he seems more settled than I am, and more attached.

But he also longs for Nepal. We have been having some hard years, and are sharing a mini-mid-life-crisis. Maybe not so mini. I was so sick after Naomi was born with constant migraines and more, it took years and daily fist-fulls of heavy-duty medications to get me back to functional. I still rely on about half a dozen types of pills every day, for three separate medical problems- and I'm only 36! What the hell?! I was still doing yoga in my 8th month of pregnancy, even as I approached 180 lbs, and I could still do tree pose without falling over. Now I'm winded by 2 flights of stairs, due to one of the drugs I take. Saddest of all, Naomi remains an only child because of the meds. We would love nothing more than to have more children, and we talk about adoption, but my veins and womb are polluted with pharmaceuticals, as I get closer and closer to 40.

And Michael has his own problems. He is plagued by headaches, insomnia and stress. He is so overworked, putting in overtime nearly every day, on top of a 2-hour commute, which is now a 2-hour+ thrill ride on snowy and icy roads. I don't know how they get away with advertising those cars with winter tires speeding madly without fishtailing in whiteout blizzards- our new snow tires don't seem to slip any less than the old all-seasons. And between his schedule and mine, we have problems. For years Michael and I ran a home-based business, we spent virtually all our time together for the first 7 years of our relationship. Once he went to work, somehow we started to argue more. Call it an adjustment period. We've been together nearly 12 years and still call each other on the phone 2-3 times a day if he's at work, and say I love you every time (nauseatingly cute, I know). But it has become a lot harder to be a couple since we became a family sometimes. We never used to fight at all, unless it was over something stupid, like definitions of words, or historical events...we're both terrible bookworms. Our house is littered in books and magazines on dozens of subjects, as is the car.

In "Chasing the Monsoon" Alexander Frater mentions The Monsoon Cure, or the Kerala Cure people go to India for during the monsoon season. I think that is part of what we are looking for. We need some healing, physically and mentally, separately, and as a couple. The only thing we don't need to work on is being Naomi's parents. She is absolutely adored. She is what gets us through the hard days (and the easy ones). Her smile is infectious, and she's always full of giggles and smiles.

Nepal represents hope for us. A much needed break, not a vacation, just a change of scenery, a new window on the world. We've been together too long to call it a second honeymoon, some days it seems we're closer to needing marriage counselling. Not because we don't love each other, we do, very much. Just because life keeps getting more and more complicated, and harder to hold together.

If you're in your 30s, or older, are you happy with where you landed? Is this what you dreamed of? Is this what you planned to do with your life? I planned to be somewhere like Nepal, lending a hand, not here in the snow, struggling to pay the bills. Somewhere where life is meaured in more simple terms, not by the latest cellphone style, ipod, or new car. I'm quite sure I'll never own a new car. I hate to think of Naomi growing up wanting these things, and perhaps not caring about more substantive issues. Poverty like what exists in Nepal may be ugly, but it isn't that complicated (until you start analysing the world-wide imbalance of trade, transnational corporations, Western economic domination...let's not go there right now).

How do you measure wealth? We have a house and a car and a computer and a colour tv (and cable, thank god for cable, I admit I do love my digital cable), all things I did not have as a child. But I do not have an extended family, a relationship with my neighbours, or a vast social network. What would you rather have? What would you rather your children have? I always hoped I could grow up and live on a tropical island somewhere where life was simpler. You know, playing catch with coconuts on the beach instead of comparing the latest fashions in the schoolyard...maybe it doesn't exist, but this 24-hour, drive-thru, pop-culture civilization lite we find ourselves in just doesn't make me feel at home. This time of year especially the brutal, in-you-face materialism of the holidays pushes me over the edge. I will not buy Disney products or Bratz dolls. When Naomi gets Barbie merchandise as gifts, I give them away to charity. I hate branding. I have never set foot inside the Gap except to apply for a job - which I didn't get. I shop at yard sales and second-hand stores, if I shop at all. I make things like scarves and sock monkeys as gifts.

wondering the world

I've been paging through "Don't let the World Pass you By: 52 Reasons to own a passport," and it gives me reasons to reflect. Geared to the average non-passport owning American who may not have ever left their home state, this book reads like a "Get off Your Ass! and see the world" tirade in a rather puerile tone, interspersed with comments by travelers and suggestions and lists of things to do and places to see. I had hoped for more from Lonely Planet Publications, but then it has at least spurred my thinking onto the topic of the wonders of my world, those I have seen, and those I'd like to see. Hmmm...the Pyramids of Giza were the greatest disappointment of my traveling life. If you ever go, take my advice and rent the horse or the camel. The grounds are not only overflowing with other tourists by the busload, but there are hawkers everywhere, devoted to hassling you into giving them money, to ride on a camel, or just have your photo taken with one, to buy postcards or other souvenirs and cheap trinkets- it was the worst experience ever- far from inspiring. The pyramids of Mexico, Guatemala and Honduras however, were spectacular, and much more peaceful. I keep swearing that I'll stop climbing things: I've been up the stairs of the Statue of Liberty, up and down all those pyramids, trekking in northern Thailand (oh my god, was I ever in bad shape for that!), and up Mount Sinai on New Year's Eve, 1995. There are 2 routes up the mountain, both culminating in the 700 Steps of Repentence that lead to the top (where you can buy Coca Cola and snacks, by the way). We accidentally went up the hard way. But it was a clear and beautiful night as we walked down the easier path. I've seen the Aswan Dam, Erie Canal, and Niagara Falls (yes, we even spent a night of our honeymoon there in a jungle-themed room complete with mirrored jacuzzi. It was awesome). But as amazing to me as Niagara was a cascade in Guatemala I don't know the name of. The falls weren't that high or that wide - but the waterfall was hot water, from a nearby hotspring. Parts of it were too hot to stand under, but we lingered there for ages, enjoying the best quality shower we'd had in months (if anyone out there is a die-hard Survivor fan, in the Survivor Guatemala series, one of the reward challenges consisted of a spa treatment at this place, next to these falls).

One of the favourite places I've been is Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee. I'm not a huge Elvis fan, but if you're in Tennessee, you just have to go to Graceland (like the song says, "we all will be received in Graceland"). I had a total blast, even if I didn't pay extra to see the automobile collection or the Lisa Marie airplane. I'm also glad I got to see Stonehenge, (don't even ask about the time Michael and I tried to get to Giant's Ring in Northern Ireland, it's a bit of a sore spot), and this place not far from Dublin where St. Kevin hung out in a cave. Fatima, Portugal was surreal, as I'm sure Lourdes would be. Pilgrims walking or crawling for miles to see the site, where in addition to the chapel there is also a wax museum depicting the 3 children who saw a vision of the Virgin.

I collect places as I do postcards. Yes, I have been priveleged. I have also seen unspeakably horrible places like Auschwitz, Birkenau, Majdanek, Treblinka. I learned much from these places too, but I would not want to go back. And the most intense place for me, unlike any other, was Israel. It kept pulling me back. It has a way of making complete sense, and none at all. The first time I visited Jerusalem, I saw pious Jews praying so close to the Wailing Wall, they nearly scratched their skin against the stone. Before long, the call of the muezzin came clear from the speakers of the Dome of the Rock just above, and beyond that, church bells from the many churches in the Grove of Olives. I backed away to try and absorb all of this, thinking of all who have focused their lives on what is represented in these few city blocks of space, the religious centre of the world to Jews, Christians and Muslims (and don't forget the Ba'Hai's just up the road with their spiritual centre in Haifa). And it seems insane. How can this be? And if there is a god, and if god has a home on earth, this must be it.

Jerusalem is not my favourite place in Israel. Well, my favourite spot once was a kibbutz called Be'it Ha'Emek, but that is a very long story. I loved many places. The road to Tiberius is beautiful, and I love the sign you pass telling you that you are at sea level, as the road continues downward. I loved Eilat, I always had good times with good friends when I went there. I never spent much time in Tel Aviv except changing trains and buses, which I did a lot. Oh, except for the first time I went there, when there was a foiled terrorist attack on the Tel Aviv beachfront. I was on the beach that very day, wondering what all the helicoptors were doing up there in the bright blue sky. I liked shopping in Haifa. But my place was in Nahariya, a small town near Lebanon. In the winter, the scent of eucalyptus on the night air was intoxicating.

winter wonderland

It's a picture-perfect winter world outside today, everything covered in a layer of fresh snow that fell during the night, silently. Naomi looked out the window and was, of course, ecstatic. "Mommy, Mommy! Look it's snowing! Mommy, get up!" I am not, however, a winter person. I lived overseas for several years in several places, all of which had no, or very limited amounts of, snow. I often wonder why it is I came back to Canada 11 years ago, and I often regret it, especially this time of year. I still don't want to stay here for life, it's too damn cold. I am a cold-blooded person, my hands and feet are freezing most of the year, like a lizard's. I am happiest barefoot (and Michael is all for having me barefoot and pregnant again, he jokes. I was so happy when I was pregnant, huge and happy. I thought it was hilarious to be 60 lbs heavier. Not so funny now, when I still haven't lost it all 4 years later...). But I need socks from late August until June. My feet are very accurate gauges for the outdoor temperature. I hate sleeping in socks, I wish I could wear sandals all year long. I am just a little bit SAD. I used to be much worse.

But Naomi helps bring some joy to the season I would not otherwise feel. She's right, it is pretty outside. But luckily her dad took her out to play, while I can remain my indoor self. It rather worries some people that left to my own devices I can stay indoors for days on end without even really noticing. She will go out and make snowangels gleefully, eat handfuls of snow, and eventually come in with cherry-red cheeks. I'll be here, huddled by my space-heater at the computer.

Anyone out there who has travel tales from Nepal, please share! We are still looking for contacts in the Pokhara region, with the university or any hospital. I am planning to do community health research while we are there, and I hope to find support over there to this end. If we can't link up with anyone suitable in Pokhara, perhaps we will stay closer to Kathmandu after all - Pokhara just sounds so beautiful, although we will visit both while we are there. Naomi and I read our National Geographic magazines together now, and have been looking at pictures of elephants in Chitwan National Park. I told her mommy and daddy rode elephants in Thailand, now she wants a try.

chanukah doughnuts

We finally made our sufganiyot, or chanukah doughnuts, Naomi and me. Not a Nepali speciality, I'm sure, but mmm are they ever good. These aren't traditional chanukah doughnuts, but are from an African recipe:

1/2 cup butter at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs, beaten lightly
1/2 teaspoon each cinnamon and nutmeg
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 teaspoons baking powder
3 cups flour

Mix the butter and sugar, then add the other ingredients. When well mixed, use your hands to knead dough into a ball. Break off small bits and roll into balls, about 1 1/2 -2" in diameter. Deep-fry at 350 degrees fahrenheit until golden, and roll or dip in cinnamon sugar.

Girls' night

Last night was the second night of Chanukah. Michael was working, so it was just us girls. Grandma found Naomi a lovely Chanukah book where you press a button and the candles light up - we took this to preschool today to share for storytime, and it was a big hit. But even better was the adorable little snow-globe I found months ago that I had been saving. Inside there's a stick-figure sort of smiling little girl figure with a handful of heart-flowers in her hand, and on the base it says Daughter, and around the back, "Daughters are made with love." She adores it, spent the rest of the evening shaking up the snow, saying, "Look at me inside!" A true treasure.

Special thanks today to Mary Lou Bourgeois, my massage therapist, for her donation. See her ad, use her services! If anyone else would like to make a donation in exchange for ad space, please e-mail me at: idftress@gmail.com.

And tonight is another type of girls' night out - I am very psyched. The Dalhousie University Student and Staff Art Show opens tonight at the Gallery, so I decided to make an occasion out of it. I wrote my last exam, I never get out after dark, never get an excuse to dress up, so I have a black sparkly dress (second-hand store find) to wear, and I might even sip my first cocktail since before I got pregnant with Naomi. My girlfriend and I are going out for dinner first, at a restaurant that does not serve the all-day breakfast special. This is really glam for me.

Happy Chanukah!

School is almost almost over (last exam yesterday, 2 papers and one stats assignment to go, just one more week!), and so now I can focus more energies into planning our trip. The past 2 weeks has been pretty stressful. Everyone in our house keeps saying, "I wish we could go to Nepal today." I've been making a list in my head of things I want to do there. I absolutely cannot wait to see honest-to-god snake charmers. I've always wanted to, and now I will have the chance. I also intend to visit a host of health practitioners who can advise me on my migraines, but more importantly, I can't wait to go to a yoga centre there, see hippie-dippy backpacker land in Thamel and Pokhara, climb to the Peace Pagoda, visit a wildlife reserve, see the bright-red spring rhododendron flowers in bloom (the national flower). And of course to meet the people, see Naomi in a Nepali school uniform, see her make new friends. And there's the monsoon to come...

I realise I'm sounding a little hippie-dippy here myself, and that's okay, but there's a lot more to me than that. But I have to be more of a mom for a while, I feel I have neglected poor Naomi these past few weeks, studying like mad. I'm back at home again everyday, I have time to cook proper meals again, and maybe, just maybe I'll finish all the laundry by New Year's (last year I was just 2 loads away before I ran out of soap on December 31 - how sad am I to spend New Year's Eve trying to get caught up with the laundry), and if we're really lucky, I'll find the surface of my desk and the full uncovered area of the kitchen table...I'm a great cook, a good mom, but a terrible housekeeper.

For now, it's just an hour before sunset when we will light our chanukah candles, and Naomi's eyes shine just as bright. Yesterday she got a hand-made mermaid doll, and she's been playing with her all day.

It's a happy day! :-)