I love my peanut. Who told me to stop calling her peanut lest she become one! My husband has been away for more than a week, and it makes me appreciate him more both as a spouse and an amazing dad. I also admire people who single solo on a regular basis. Love to them, love to my peanut.
Charlotte came home today from school with a picture of “MY FAMILY”. It included the regular subjects, but added were “Laura”? and “ISA”? and “AVA”. Ava, the baby sister she wants. Funny things about this drawing were and are that she intensely dislikes the sounds of crying children, ESPECIALLY babies. She isn’t fond of sharing, and is certainly queen of this only child castle.
The thing that OOOFffed me in the heart, was that, she does probably want a sibling. I baby girl to play with and dress up probably sounds way better than putting one of the cats in a dolly’s dress. I am sure she can not given true thought to the consequences this would bear, it was sweet. Bitter sweet.
There are those people who think even one child is too many, lots of us breed too much. Two children is irresponsible and more is nutso. There are faiths and just regular old kid loving people who think the more the merrier, or stop at a certain number. I knew we would only have one while when I was pregnant with Charlotte. At seven month along I wanted to kill myself. I couldn’t take my regular psychotropic drugs and wasn’t on any. The suicidal ideation seem to outweigh any other risks at 7 months and I took a low dose antidepressant, until more than a year after Charlotte was born. I knew I could not handle the mental or physical challenge of gestating again, let alone being crazy and pregnant.
Charlotte has not asked why we can’t have another baby, because these reasons are lengthy and difficult to explain to a kid without a language delay
1) crazy. I am on more medication than ever, and stopping it to get pregnant it not an option
2) diabetic. I had a perfect diabetic pregnancy, testing my sugars, took my insulin, ate like an angel, but having a lovely fetus in your body is still a parasite and I still suffered from some milk kidney and insulin production damage. Oh, I was diabetic before I got pregnant
3) child, I am 40. I do not want to do this at my age for so many reasons. Health, stamina, age, preference.
4) Ill conceived. We needed more than a year of assisted fertility to make you. Who knows what, if any, eggs lie beneath. And Fertility treatments blow.
5) I couldn’t be a good mom to two children, even two girls, which if you asked me about at 25 I would have shouted YELL YA! about. I know my limits, physically, mentally. I may be in a healthy enough to be a good mom and good wife with two kids when I am 50. I am working on all of that better person stuff.
6) I have the love to give, but not enough of the other important shit. I know that one child is the right choice for us as a family. Also, I am 40.
I wanted a sibling when I was little as well. I mean I had a older brother, but he was mean and wanted nothing to do with me and might as well have been raised by wolves, seriously. I wanted a sister. I wanted an older sister, a younger one would have done. I wanted an ally. I was lucky that my mother was the eldest of 15 kids and I had Aunties around that were a pretty close second to having older sisters. I figured out that when Aunty was on the couch and belt buckles were heard (the 70s people), that they were probably doing dirty things that God would not approve of (Catholic). I learned to sew, I was exposed to my first computer and played text based adventure games, I drank beer a little too young, I was a bridesmaid. Having Aunties was awesome. I am sorry I can’t give you that in the same way either.
Lord knows that Charlotte isn’t aware of all the other problems she is facing right now and baby Ava is super not important, trust me. My heart aches for her, for me, for Mark. He wanted a team, at least Basketball. Unfortunately Mark has no uterus. Or perhaps, fortunately. I just feel a little sad and wistful, for it seems like another thing I cannot do for my family, my six year old baby. I think I am ok, I think you will be too my baby.
I wrote this post last Friday. I am fast with the posting and such,
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I had typed a post while I was in Vancouver waiting for my delay flight to San Francisco and then I deleted it because I am using Word Press and I really don’t know what I am doing and the post was attributed to a boogie author and I am done, the end. Perhaps my husband or some other genius was reading it and cached it, but i think i am buggered. I love the google, but I don’t think they cache posts after 3 minutes.
It was a half assed point done in point form, which is my go to when I haven’t posted in a while and my brain is a swirl with information, stuff, and you know, other stuff.
I am going to San Francisco as a sort of consolation prize for missing Mom2.0, which I am still really sad I missed. There are a plethora of people in NorCal who are the awesome and I am trying to see as many people as possible, but still make it quality time intend of kiss and go. I will be renting a car at some point because a lot of y’all live far enough apart that I cannot take the BART of Caltrain or god, I would love to rent a Mustang convertible and pretend I am ThelmaLouise without the cliff bit. I suspect it is too cold for a convertible though. I will call tonight about reserving a car.
We were in San Diego for Spring Break with Charlotte and rented some shit ass Hundai, they had a special on Mustangs and I cannot get that sexy car out of my head. I am not a car chick. We drive a sensible Camry Sedan Hybrid, with no acelleration problems whatsoever thank you very much. I love Toyota. We drove a Corolla for 10 years. We only have only ever had one car, Mark takes the bus and when I had a real job, I took the bus and it has worked out well for us. OK, car talk detour!
San Diego was beautiful. We actually stayed on Coronado Island, which Mark points out ISN’T really an island because it does to land somewhere. We did take the bridge over to San Diego pretty much everyday. The weather was perfect. We had three cooler days to go to Legoland, Seaworld and the Zoo, three warmer days to do the beach and a some pool time. Last year in Florida Charlotte would not get into the warm, and shallow kiddie pool. She was terrified. She had taken some private lessons before we left and managed to enjoy the pool but found the sand and tide pools much more enjoyable. Mark and I did too. Despite the sand in my bits and pieces. Charlotte had her challenges, mostly around food, bedtime, transitioning to other activates. I won’t lie, it was sometimes difficult not to lose my shit. She could tell the difference between Canadian macaroni and cheese (Kraft Dinner) and American macaroni and cheese (also Kraft). She ate a lot of peanuts and drank veggie/fruit juice with a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches for good measure.
Lots and lots has gone on in regards to Charlotte’s Autism assessment. It really has distracted me from almost everything. She got in for the full assessment at the Autism Clinic about a month or so ago. I was told 6-9 month, but the stars aligned and my name and number was on the top of some pile and we dropped everything one morning and spent two days at the clinic. Lots of information, interviews, questions, observations. It was super intense and Charlotte was really struggling by the time she was to be seen my the Occupational Therapist and was called “immature and uncooperative” i the report, which pissed me off. She was there for an Autism assessment. It was the end of a two day ordeal. She was tired and wanted to go home, she was pale and had circles under her eyes. I watched from a two way mirror. It was difficult.
We received the report this past friday. This means more action on our part. Mailing a copy to the school, her (hopefully) new Speech Language Therapist, Language procession is considered one of her biggest “severities”.
April 22
OK, didn’t finish this post, but TO BE CONTINUED……
Just like a Charlie’s Angels Episode
My memory of her will never be the same. Were some days this difficult before? Two months ago? Last year?
Refusing to eat two of the foods on her repertoire, claiming they made her loose tooth hurt or her tummy hurt or mouth burn before a bite was taken? I know she was hungry. Two hours later dinner was 2 crackers, yes I know I know, better than nothing. The mimicking of what I say, cute before, but a symptom now? I feel so weak for wanting to hide in my room, like a child.
I feel badly that I am relieved school is back in tomorrow and then with dread remember the play group. The play group pilot program the school has us in for two more Mondays, she gets anxious before going, she knows we go on Monday nights, we eat pizza, we drive far away. She is unpredictable when we are there. I get anxious and agitated. Tomorrow I have to go alone, Mark is out of town. I have to drive in an unfamiliar part of the city. In the dark. Again I feel weak. This is the teeniest of teeny of beginnings and I am already doubting my ability to persist and fight and wait. Wait. I am thankful I have a strong husband and embarrassed that I am forever the wobbly kneed foal.
I want to eat. Smoke. Drink and get drunk. Pretend. And I know. I really know that the challenges I we have are less than many others. People say its gets better. Everyone really does say that.
Tonight she got in bed with about 10 barbies, her Nintendo DS, I didn’t make her brush her teeth or ask to read her a book. I shut the door and am hiding in my room.
TODAY, we did make these:
sparkly on the outside
p.s. Yes, I did get my passport, no I didn’t go to Mom2.0. More sad. Flight cancellation, coincided with ongoing respiratory infection, more antibiotics, blah blah. I will survive. More.
The last post encouraged me to keep up with the old OLD blog. I was re-energized by your energy and it reminded me why I write. It feels good. It clarifies my thoughts. I may sometimes tell you things of little consequence, like I am currently composing this while my spaghetti sauce simmers. Not even a fancy sauce. It is a sauce that Charlotte will probably not eat. While I know that, I know she is picky I didn’t realize that it does put a damper on cooking dinner. And, I don’t cook all that much to begin with. My depression and anxiety often make me “sun down” late in the afternoon and I feel tired or apathetic and we have take out, or frozen dinner or sandwiches. Ahh, the things you figure out about yourself just from smelling sauce from downstairs.
So hey, I am going to Mom 2.0. Probably. My passport expired and I paid for expedited service, but they will not guarantee anything. “Probably”, “most likely”, but no guarantee. Need I make a bitter comment about public service employees? I worked at the University for 11 years and probably had to do and say similar things, but still. I HAVE PAID FOR EVERYTHING. Let me tell you, it costs a piss-load to fly from here to Houston. Cheaper to go to London, England, Greece, almost China. I decided to go because all of a sudden it felt like I should. Intuition, Jedi mind wisdom, I have no idea? The speaker list is kick ass, I know many of them, and some of the panels really “spoke” to me. Ha. It will be great to meet new people too, and the conference seems small enough that I don’t feel all anxious sauce. I am of course, worried that no one will like me, my only in my subconscious. I have already been promised hugs and any hand holding I may require. Also, I won’t have to phone anyone or talk to any teachers, clinics, Speech Pathologists, private swim teachers and hopefully the “my kid is Autistic WTF WTF?!” voice in my head will be a bit quieter. I think it is ok.
In thinking about where my blog is going, I have come up with some ideas other than just me me me, or having my blog nothing but Autism. I would like to add some more video and audio, probably in the name of humour. No one wants to see my cry on Vimeo. I have a little idea involving Twitter and a bit that Conan O’Brien used to do, but I will have to refine that idea. Essentially it involves mocking tweets, all in good fun. I also want to talk about fashion, design and style, in the home and on the body. In “real” life I am a clothes horse and love shoes and I want to express that – maybe once in a while? I will talk more about gardening when the season is appropriate, because I love to grow me some stuff! Oh! and photos. I need to learn more with the camera I have, because I enjoy taking photos too! And books!
I will be doing reviews and giveaways as I feel they are appropriate, hoping to Blog with Integrity. I also have a friend who will be helping me with reviews and giveaways which I think will be super fun! You will meet Kelly soon. OH! And I will be working on making the blog aesthetically beautiful. I feel more like being here when it is pretty. I am getting help. 
So, god willing and the creek don’t rise (and I get my passport tomomrrow at 10 AM!!!), I will be in Houston on Wednesday at the hotel around 7 or 8 pm? If you want to know my “real” last name, email me and you can call me or I can call you or we can hook up or watch movies alone while ordering room service. I am on twitter at @thejennui (no longer protected) and email is jennifer@jennnui.com
With all sincerity and affection I want to thank you, this community, you lovely lovely people, for continuing to be so kick ass and kind and giving, and nice and smart and amazing.
Me at forty
Thank you as always for paragraphs are for pussies to Mrs. Kennedy
A little over two weeks ago, Charlotte, who just turned six, was diagnosed with Autism (DSM-IV 299.00). I thought MAYBE they might say she exhibits some behaviours consistent with Aspergers, but this was more expansive than I thought. Surprising. She has more difficulty with language than a a child with Aspergers, so she got bumped up.
“…qualitative impairment in social interaction, communication and restricted repetitive and stereotyped patters of behaviour, interests, or activities. Charlotte has significant difficulties using nonverbal behaviours, such as eye-to-eye gaze, facial expression, and body posture to regulate social interaction, developing age-appropriate peer relationships, spontaneously seeks to share enjoyment and interests or achievements with others, and she demonstrates a lack or emotional reciprocity. Her difficulties initiating and staining a conversation as well as her preoccupation with certain objects and nonfunctional routines, including pick eating, wanting certain pajamas, and difficulties with transitions (i.e. leaving parents to go into classroom), support this diagnosis.”
I think that is all I can muster right now. I have a respiratory infection and am bagged. I will bring my laptop to bed, instead of using SO MUCH energy typing at my desktop. Yes, I am way feeling sorry for myself. Sorry.
Happy 6th Birthday
brand new
xo
JenB
Sometimes when I go a long time without posting that I have so much to say I don’t know where to start. So I don’t. Then I don’t so more. Then I think of one thing but feel like I need to give the post its proper respect and I am not sure I can do it because the event happened weeks ago.
Example. My brother was laid off of his job of 22 years. It happened on a Thursday a few weeks ago. They escorted him home, took his blackberry, company truck, laptop and said that he could come back later and collect any personal effects in his office. Twenty two years. It was his first job out of school. He had never had a bad review and the firing came as a huge surprise. My mom called me on the Saturday to tell me, wondering if my brother had called me. He hadn’t. We are not close and I don’t think I am at the top of the list of people to break bad news to unless it is family related. My mom is our conduit.
When my mom told me about Mike’s job loss, she told me he cried when he told her. He was upset and hurt and confused, he loved his job. Knowing that my brother cried made me sob after I got off of the phone with my mother. I grabbed a cotton sock near by bed, for no kleenex in sight (and I was still in bed, slacking on a Saturday morning). I grabbed a lime green cotton sock that I had worn to bed because my feet are always cold, regardless of temperature. I cried until that sock was wet. I shook and cried and imagined my brother crying. I had seen it only on one other occasion. He was working at a part-time job tand was a consistently top salesman. They offered him a decent severance bu reneged on giving him thousands dollars in commissions. He spoke with a lawyer that told him it was too expensive to fight for something that might not have a positive outcome. He took the severance on the following Wednesday, they did not even give him a week to look it over.
I think Mike will be fine, he will get an excellent reference and has made many good contacts in his years in sales. I am not worried, we live in a province that has a low unemployment rate, is oil rich and he is in the right industry. We aren’t close, we have very little in common with, I love his two kids, my nieces, but he cried.
My damp sock and sad can not do anything for him, and I guess it is ok. I said I am sorry and I don’t think he would want anything from me. But my brother, he cried, and it hurt.
Ok, seven years of having a blog. This baby blog, jennui.com, is new, but THAT OTHER ON, lets call is menandcolonic, lived almost seven years. My first post was August 22st, 2002. Holy Shit. I started the blog while I was working in an office job and was better able to post regularly. My time was structured. I didn’t have the ability to slack and procrastinate and put off posting like I do now. I miss that regularity, I miss the community at the time. Yea, I am going to be all old skool and miss those times. I like what is happening now, the growth, the opportunities, the more and more amazing people. I did consider calling it quits after a family member found old kenandflonic, but I was inspired by all of you to continue. I think it was Will, from Be the Boy, who said the only thing worse than blogging, is not blogging. Blogging has changes, Facebook, and Twitter have been the most significant in terms of taking people away from Classic Blogging®. I think I needed a reality check and you guys were great and I had fantastic comments on this post where I was discerning my online path. I encourage you all to read the comments, if you blog or read blogs or generally exist. Some smart people saying excellent things. I will keep blogging, the way I want, for me and not for others. I will be doing product reviews when appropriate, I will also be adding a style section, because people, I love my things, and it is part of my life.
Ultimately, I think that what has renewed my passion for the blog is diversity. I am not just depressed, fat, sad, lazy, or live a life of slack. Those things are true of me, but not all the time. I want to talk about cooking, gardening, clothes, mental health, television, donuts, whatever is on my mind. I think I had pigeon holed myself into a depression blog and that isn’t all I am. Some of you suggested that if having a blog no longer made me happy, I should stop. I thought about that. Other commenters talked about me getting out of the house more, or getting a job out of the house. Also good advice and more thought. I have insulated myself since not working in an office environment, created more social anxiety. I am working hard at getting the hell out of the house to see friends who live near me, friends who I can have a coffee with. I HAVE FRIENDS in my city that I neglect, but whom I love. I am working on this. I did hang out with my friend Kelly twice in the last couple of weeks while she made jam and got to hold her 3 month old lovely baby.
The job thing is harder. I considered working at an Apple store, or perhaps another retail environment. Alas, the knee injury, bursitis, and arthritis prevents me from standing on a hard service for any length of time. I cannot get a full-time office job, neither my psychiatrist or medical physician would approve a 40 hour week because of the crazy and physical challenges of being old and gibbled. I have looked or some part-time office gigs, but it is slim pickins’. Most of the jobs are temp relief in medical offices or part-time assistants, secretarial work. While I am not putting these jobs down in any why, it is difficult for me to do that type of work after being in a professional position for 11 plus years. When I left my previous job, I tried to let me job share with my replacement. They would not, so I quit. I am in a fortunate (really really really lucky, I know) position to not HAVE to work, so I will keep looking for work, paid or not. I haven’t spent a lot of time looking yet. If I was smarter or keener or more disciplined or magic, perhaps I could blog my way into more of a part-time job. Paid or not. Still thinking.
I am trying to work with some people to make jennui look nice, I have some ideas in my pocket. The dusty one in my brain I haven’t used much. I have lots in my head and I want to put it here. I enjoyed it before and I think I can adapt to the New Way of blogging and love it again. I also want to address more of the comments from that post. You guys changed my life and I have to tell you I printed out all of the comments so I can read them on PAPER. Thank you my people. You are awesome.
Advice always welcome my friends.
gah. I am at @thejennui - some bitch took jennui before me 
updates are protected, but I am an easy follow. *wink wink*
updated Feb 2010 – no longer protected, who really gives a crap?
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