Compromised By A Cold

I came home from BlogHer a week and a half ago full of energy and full of ideas. It seems to happen every year, and I spend the first two weeks home trying to mentally sort these new blogging ideas and choose where I want to start first.

Only this year, most of that energy was abruptly stopped four days in when I started to get sick. I had already heard others saying how they came down with the post-conference crud, and by Wednesday I felt certain I was in the clear from it.

But then Thursday, I woke up exhausted. Utterly exhausted. Friday was the same, along with a slight sore throat. I tried to dismiss it as dehydration and not enough sleep, drinking more water and trying to go to bed earlier to combat it.

Over the weekend, the exhaustion continued, and the lymph glands in my throat were swollen. I was definitely getting sick, but I didn’t really have a lot of symptoms yet. It wasn’t until Sunday night that I started to get the stuffy nose and (again) the sore throat to tell me this was a full-blown cold coming in.

And now it’s Wednesday, and I feel like I’m only hitting the peak of this germ infestation. This might possibly be the slowest moving cold EVER.

I’d like to think it took so long because my body put up a valiant effort to fight it off, holding the line for several days before eventually being overwhelmed by the viral enemy. In that case, I’d expect the cold to be weaker from the battle casualties, making only a brief appearance to plant its mucousy flag in triumph before my immune system regrouped and kicked its ass.

Instead, I think this cold virus has taken the lazy approach. Seeing that my immune defenses were already weakened from travel, it didn’t see the need to amass forces quickly, taking its sweet time to build up gradually, completely fooling my stressed out white blood cells, who were only looking for critical mass enemies. By the time my leukocytes sounded the alarm, the cold was already entrenched and easily overcame them.

That’s all a fancy way of saying I’ve felt miserable for nearly a week now and today is the worst day yet and why won’t this cold go away already and waaaaaahhhh!

I was lucky to avoid being sick this summer until now. But no amount of Emergen-C or zinc is helping shorten this long-game cold. I can handle many of the symptoms of being sick – stuffy noses aren’t so bad when I didn’t breathe much through my nose for the first 22 years of my life. (I had sinus surgery to correct that.) The lack of energy, however, is frustrating.

Here’s hoping I’ll be back to my usual self soon, and that my energy will return so I can get back to planning out new blog posts with a brain that isn’t quite so foggy.

We’re two weeks away from the start of the school year, which means I have exactly two weeks to get over this cold and rebuild my immune defenses before the kids bring home shiny new germs from their classmates.

Maybe I’d better have my immune system double-down on those defenses.



Summer Camp Terror

I should have recognized the signs.

Cordy was excited to go to summer camp at the start of the summer. She loves the camp she’s attended for several years, and the only concern she had this year was that her sister was going to be in the same group with her and would bother her. (Ah, sisters.) Other than worrying that we’d hear from the teachers that these two were constantly arguing with each other, we expected an easy-going summer.

But then around the start of July, I noticed a small shift. When I told Cordy she didn’t have summer camp because of the Fourth of July, she seemed happy about not needing to go that day. That was puzzling, since routine changes are generally frustrating for her, and I knew she liked her summer camp program.

Cordy and Mira on stageI understood her anxiety about the day they performed Puss in Boots, even though she handled it well.

Then came days when she’s ask if she could just stay home. I know that being social can be hard for her, so I dismissed any concerns in my head because she didn’t have a specific reason for wanting to stay home other than “we’re there for a long time.” Her teachers didn’t say anything to us about it, so we didn’t worry.

Near mid-July, she told Aaron one morning that she didn’t want to go to this camp again next year. She asked if she could go to a camp for kids with autism. This didn’t totally catch us by surprise – she’s recently started working with a behaviorist and we’ve been discussing autism with her, so I assumed that she was noticing more differences between herself and other kids and was looking for a way to fit in. Maybe she thought that being around other kids with autism would make her feel more accepted?

This was around the same time that we started getting reports from the summer camp of behavior issues. She was overreacting to things and spiraling down into a pit of self-hate when given the slightest correction. While I was in Chicago, Aaron received a call from the pool when one of her teachers couldn’t get her to stop hitting herself after being told to not talk to strangers, and he calmed her down over the phone, thankfully.

I’ve been baffled at why this summer has been so much harder for her than previous summers. It couldn’t be just because her sister was in the same group – the teachers report that they don’t play together all that often, and when they do, there aren’t any issues.

And then on Friday, the pieces fell together. When Aaron picked the kids up from camp, one of the afternoon teachers asked if the girls had told us that Cordy (and Mira at times) were being bullied.

Bullied? It hadn’t been brought up at all by either of our daughters. We knew nothing about it.

We found out a boy in the upper elementary group, and his friends to a lesser extent, have been bullying Cordy for awhile now. Cordy and Mira are in lower elementary, but the two groups are together for a large part of the day. One story was that this boy and his friends like to play a certain board game in the afternoon, and Cordy likes to watch them play. They got annoyed at her asking so many questions, and one day the teacher asked Cordy to please watch quietly and not ask them questions while they played. That led to the boy trying to trick Cordy into asking a question each day so he could then send her away. (“Hey Cordy?” “What?” “Oooh, you asked a question! You have to get away from us now and can’t watch us play!”)

My older daughter is naturally a rule follower, so she’d have to comply, since the teacher was originally the one who asked her to not ask questions. Tricking her into asking a question seems cruel, though, and she wouldn’t tell when she was sent across the room, because she felt like she was the one who had done something wrong. Telling the teacher would only get her in more trouble in her mind. It sounds like he made up a lot of rules to force her to do what he wanted.

This same boy also would take toys that she brought to camp, playing keep-away from Cordy with his friends. He did the same to Mira, too, throwing her stuffed animal onto the roof of the camp building a few weeks ago.

He had been verbally ordering Cordy around, but it didn’t stop there. He also liked to “jinx” her. (Like we yelled as kids when you say the same thing at the same time.) He’d try to catch her saying something and then say the same thing with her. Then he’d yell “jinx!” and tell her she wasn’t allowed to speak again or he’d hit her. When she did accidentally speak, he followed through with his threat and hit her each time she spoke. Again, Cordy didn’t tell because she thought she had done something wrong and thought the teacher would side with him since she broke the rule.

It’s no wonder Cordy didn’t want to go to summer camp. She had to face each morning wondering what this bully was going to do to torment her that day.

Finding all of this out on Friday night (pieced together from what the afternoon teachers told Aaron and from what our kids finally shared with us), I was furious with this kid and a little angry with myself. This boy had been bullying my daughters for most of the summer, and I was thankful that I wasn’t the one picking the kids up that day or I would have asked Mira to point out this kid for me so I could have a few not-so-nice words with him. How dare this kid pick on a girl younger than him – a girl with special needs, too. I wanted to speak with this kid’s parents, too, although I had a feeling that if he was a bully, his parents probably already knew and tolerated it. Or worse – taught it to him.

But I was also upset that I missed the signs for most of the summer. Cordy’s behavior was off, she was happy for days she didn’t go to camp, and she was asking to go to another camp next year – I should have realized something like this was happening. There was no way to expect her to tell us that something was wrong. My sweet, innocent girl believed she was at fault for everything and that telling someone would only result in her getting into more trouble. She was convinced she was the problem, not the bully, and if she could just follow the (absurdly strict, made-up to guarantee failure) rules that the bully put in place, there wouldn’t have been any trouble.

Mira had known this kid was trouble the whole time, too, but didn’t speak up to us because Cordy didn’t want her to. Mira told us that this kid was in trouble all of the time at the camp, but the teachers didn’t see half of the things he did because he was sneaky.

We had a long talk on Friday night about bullying and why it’s always OK to tell on the bully. And it’s not just OK to tell on a bully, but it’s necessary to tell an adult. Reporting a bully will never make you a “tattle-tale” and we assured them that we will always stand with them if they’re being bullied.

We also discussed how they don’t need to listen to rules given to them by other kids that sound like mean rules – they can always check with a teacher or parent to verify if they have to follow what another kid says or not. We also taught Cordy new scripts to use – if a bully tries to tell her to do something that doesn’t sound right to her, she can respond, “I don’t have to listen to you. I’m going to ask an adult.” And if a bully threatens to hit her, she can say, “I’m telling an adult/teacher that you’re bullying me.”

I also took a somewhat controversial step in discussing how to handle a bully. Our children have been taught to never hit another person. But on Friday night, I made an exception. If a bully hits them, they should first try to get away and find an adult for help. This should always be the first thing to try. But if they can’t get away, or they fear for their safety after being hit once? Hit back. Hit, kick, scratch – anything to protect yourself until you can get away.

We went through several scenarios so Cordy could lock the script into her mind as to when it’s OK and when it’s not. As I’ve mentioned before, she’s a letter-of-the-law rule follower, and I know she’d only hit back if a situation met all of the conditions. Although Cordy abhors violence, she’s amazingly strong and could use that physical strength if needed. Yes, she’d likely get in trouble with the school/camp for hitting back, but if she was truly acting in self-defense after being attacked, she’d face no punishment from us.

I spent an entire childhood being bullied and told “just ignore the bully and they’ll leave you alone.” I can tell you that didn’t work. Ignoring them only meant they would escalate their attacks, and back then teachers weren’t as willing to get involved with reports of bullying. There were entire school years that I was miserable, fearing what would come next from the bullies and unable to ever feel like I could be myself or feel safe at school. I still think about missed opportunities I let pass by so I could continue to fly under the radar and not draw attention to myself by those waiting to shoot me down again. There were days I didn’t want to live any longer because of the harassment I endured.

I’m grateful that bullying has become a bigger issue now and that many schools take a zero tolerance policy with it, but I know it still happens. Unfortunately, Cordy is a very easy target for these kids. She’s trusting, she’s sweet, she’s an open book with no ability to have ulterior motives. She doesn’t understand sarcasm and often can’t tell when someone is making fun of her. And she’s a perfectionist, meaning she battles low self-esteem and tends to believe everything is her fault, so she’s less likely to tell on the bully and will instead hold it inside as her own personal shame.

If I could have my way, she’d no longer be a victim of bullying. We’re going to continue working on skills to recognize bullying and to make sure she always tells an adult. We’re also helping Mira understand why it’s important to not protect her sister’s secrets when it comes to bullying and to stand up for her sister.

I’m done with bullies. It took me years to find my inner strength as an adult, and I refuse to let my daughters go through that. Now that I know that bullies can’t control me, I won’t let them play with my daughters’ lives, either. Cordy has lost most of a summer to a bully, and I refuse to let that happen again.

Follow up: Aaron spoke with the camp again this morning, and we discovered this boy has been a problem for several kids, including ours. The boy wasn’t scheduled to be there for this last week of camp, thank goodness, and the head of the program also said she’s informed the boy’s parents that he won’t be allowed back next year. I’m glad they finally addressed it, although I wish it could have been caught earlier.



Gluten-Free Breakfast With Udi’s

It was not even a year ago that we discovered that Aaron couldn’t eat gluten. I had suspected it for quite some time, but it took two weeks of eliminating it from his diet entirely, followed by a visit to the doctor, for us to confirm that eating gluten was damaging his insides and his health.

Having one family member need to be gluten-free was quite a shift for our mealtimes. We had to read the labels on everything at the grocery. We had to buy separate peanut butter and cream cheese containers to prevent cross contamination from a knife leaving crumbs behind. Aaron couldn’t even order pizza with us, or have a fast food cheeseburger.

We’ve navigated the GF (gluten-free) world as best we could so far, along with some mourning of Aaron’s favorite foods. He misses the crackers he used to have as snacks. Cookies and cakes still tempt. And he really misses his breakfast baked goods. Of all meals, breakfast is probably the hardest to recreate without the gluten.

So it’s no surprise that we’ve tried a LOT of gluten-free baked goods and snacks over the last nine months. There have been a few hits and many, many misses. We’ve found many GF baked goods are often dry, flaky, or lacking in flavor. Some have odd textures, too.

Udi’s Gluten Free recently sent us some samples of their foods for Aaron to try. Some of the foods are items he’s tried before. The cinnamon rolls, for example, are a frequent grocery request. When prepared according to the instructions, they’re really moist and tasty, and the icing is just sweet enough to be decadent without being cloying.

Udi's Cinnamon Raisin BreadAaron also found a new favorite breakfast item with the Udi’s cinnamon raisin bread. His quote: “Toasted with a little bit of cream cheese spread across it, you have a nicely filling breakfast that has sweet, tangy and savory flavors. The raisins also help to keep the bread itself moist.”

We also discovered that for our slower mornings – when we’re not rushing out the door – the Udi’s millet-chia bread is a great substitute for regular bread when making french toast. And some scrambled eggs, peppers and cheese tossed together and wrapped up in an Udi’s tortilla makes the perfect breakfast burrito.

(If you’re looking for a recipe, well…you’re probably new here. There’s no recipe to be shared. Scrambled eggs are pretty standard, and our french toast recipe comes from searching Google. I never said I was a cook.)

For days when we’re on-the-go, or just need a snack, the new soft-n-chewy chocolate chip granola bars are convenient and easy to take along. I don’t find them chocolatey enough for me, but they’re still sweet.

And even though Aaron’s the only one who needs GF food options, I’ll admit I snack on the Udi’s cranberry granola. Yum.

Udi's granolaNo, really – just pour the entire bag of cranberry granola right into my bowl.

Finally, the Udi’s snickerdoodle cookies? OMG, amazing. Dude, even if you’re not gluten-free, you’ll love those cookies. (They weren’t included in the samples we received – we just regularly buy them as treats.)

I didn’t expect us to find such a wealth of GF items that are just as delicious as their gluten counterparts. Udi’s has shown why they are one of the biggest names in GF foods based on the samples we’ve tried. We like most of the Udi’s baked goods we’ve tried, and they help my husband live a more typical life with all of us gluten-eaters. I’m grateful to Udi’s for their focus on quality, delicious gluten-free foods that help those who must live without gluten to still enjoy their baked goods.

Full disclosure: We received samples of several Udi’s items for review, although we’re regular Udi’s consumers as well. No further compensation was received and all opinions are my own. (Well, some are Aaron’s, too.)

 



An Honest Answer

Scene: yesterday, while discussing me going to Chicago this week for BlogHer ’13.

Mira:  Mommy, I’m really going to miss you.

Me:  I know, sweetie, but I’ll only be gone for a few days.

Mira:  I’ll still miss you and think about you every day.

Me:  Thank you, Mira. I’ll miss you, too.

(turning to Cordy)

Me:  What about you, Cordy? Will you miss me while I’m gone, too?

Cordy:  (shrugging) Nah.

Aaron:  Cordy, you’ll miss mommy when she’s gone, won’t you?

Cordy:  (backpedaling) I, uh, I mean…I’ll try to miss you!

Aaron:  Not quite right.

Cordy:  Oh, OK, I’ll try NOT to miss you!

Me:  It’s OK, Cordy, I’ll miss you, whether you miss me or not.

Sigh.



I May Be Too Old For General Admission Concerts

Near the beginning of the year, I found out that one of my favorite bands was coming to Columbus on tour. You may have heard of the band Fun. – yes, it’s an unusual band name, and yes, the period is a part of their name. At the time, it was easy to buy tickets because they weren’t an extremely well-known band. Well, then they won a few Grammy awards, had another hit song, and suddenly the show was sold out. Good thing I bought my tickets early.

I had been somewhat-patiently waiting for this concert for months. Aaron occasionally teases me for listening to current pop and rock music all the time, but even he agrees this band is awesome, which is why he was willing to come along with me. And yes, for the record I love current pop music and my iPhone is filled with current hits. At least I’ll always be aware of what my kids are listening to. Also, being able to sing along with their favorite songs makes me the cool mom now, and will absolutely mortify them when they’re teens. I call that a win-win.

On Saturday night, as I was looking up the concert info again, I noticed that there had been a venue change. Instead of playing the PromoWest LC Pavilion – a smallish, outdoor concert area, the concert had been moved to the LC Festival stage, immediately behind the Pavilion. I’m guessing that was done to sell more tickets. As long as it was still a comfortable area, I wasn’t too concerned.

The concert was also general admission. I haven’t been to a general admission concert since I was in college, and before that as a teenager seeing bands at the State Fair. I wish it would have been a location with assigned seating, but I thought as long as we got there early we’d have a good shot at being closer to the stage. I expected crowded conditions and that once we found our spot we’d likely need to stay in that spot or lose it.

Sunday evening we arrived to the concert two hours before the doors opened. The line was already down two blocks to the highway entrance. Since they couldn’t have people lining up on the highway off-ramp, the line diverted onto a small dirt path beside the concern venue, in a wooded area. (It’s also the path that leads to a downtown homeless camp.) We were in the part of the line still going up the path, with no idea where the line turned to go back to the street.

The line that never ends to see Fun.

A member of the PromoWest event staff came by with a megaphone after half an hour and told the crowd that doors would open right at 7pm, and they would get us all in as fast as possible. He promised that security was tight to prevent line jumping (joking that they would taser line jumpers), so we just needed to stay in line and we’d all get in quickly.

It was hot. Really, really hot. And it felt like we were standing there forever. Finally, it was 7pm, and the line started to slowly move. But just after we made the turn and started coming down the path to the street again, we saw others, further in line behind us, turn and merge in with the downward-facing line. What? People started grumbling about the line jumpers, but the offenders just shrugged their shoulders and shuffled even further down the line, ahead of more people.

As we reached the street, we saw large numbers of people ignoring the very obvious line entirely and walking right up to the entrance, blending in with the crowd and getting in without a wait. So much for that “security” they talked about. I was furious that we waited forever in line when we could have just sat in the shade near the entrance and then walked in when the doors opened.

Once inside, we got to see what the Festival stage area looked like.

The PromoWest LC Festival Stage Exciting, no?

It was the asphalt parking lot behind the Pavilion with a temporary stage set up at one end. Seriously? Half-way back was a huge video screen, meaning anyone behind the video screen couldn’t see the stage at all. Of course, being on a flat surface, their view was going to be mostly blocked by the people ahead of them anyway. I grumbled again about the lousy venue.

While we waited for the opening act, I looked for some water. Every food and beverage booth was cash only. The band’s merchandise tents were also cash only. (Not by the band’s choice – this was the venue’s choice.) Waiting in line for an ATM with a sky-high fee to help the venue profit more wasn’t something I was willing to do, so I had to abandon my hope of getting a tour t-shirt and used the $6 I had for two waters.

Since so many people were in line for beer, we managed to find a decent spot to stand that provided a fairly good view of the stage. At least at first. More people began to crowd into our space. If you had room to look down and see your shoes, then someone was likely to push in front of you to take up that available space. The opening act, Tegan and Sara, went on stage around 8pm, and while it was crowded around us it wasn’t too bad. (Side note: I’ve never heard Tegan and Sara before, but they’re very good. I’ve added them to my Spotify list.)

Tegan and Sara performOur view, no zooming in. The space in front of me was actually a group sitting on the ground on a blanket.

After they were done, there was a momentary exodus as some went for beer refills. It was nice to breathe again. But then the crowd started to pack in tighter. Those who went to get beer came back to their spots, only others had also filled in the open areas, making it impossible for people to fit. Others would then push past, saying “oh, we’re trying to get back to our friends” but would then stop shortly in front of us, never finding those “friends” they were looking for.

A man next to us yelled at one group of women, shaming them for lying to push their way through and then stop in front of him. He wouldn’t let up in his tirade against them , either, and eventually they left the area to escape the verbal abuse. I had to applaud him for trying to make people act like adults.

Another woman and her friend then tried to push through shortly after that. I didn’t even have room to lift my elbows out to the side at this point. The woman beside me, who had been there the entire time like us, looked at the two newcomers and said, “Please, just no. I haven’t seen you here all night, you’re not trying to get back to your spot. Don’t be rude and think you’re better than others.”

The woman blew her off with a “I don’t have to answer to you,” and began to forcibly shove her way between me and the others. There wasn’t room, and the more she and her friend pushed, the more I was being squished and pushed into the others around me. (ouch) The woman beside me lost it at this point, grabbing the pusher’s arm and telling her, “No, you’re not standing in front of us, move to the back, bitch.”

And then a fight broke out right in front of me.

Why did I think I was young enough to still come to general admission concerts?

It didn’t last long, thank goodness, and the pusher lost the fight with some impressive scratches on her arm from the nails of the woman next to me. At that point, the winner glanced back to see three other women, who had also been pushing through until they got to us, right behind her. Our “hold the line” defender glared at them and one immediately said, “We’re not trying to get past you, promise! We saw what you did and we don’t want to fight you!”I had to laugh at this gal’s self-preservation skills, even when she was totally drunk.

Finally (FINALLY!) Fun. was on stage. And the concert was great, even if I was jammed up against other sweaty people (hate touching strange people, ew!), completely dripping in sweat myself from the heat, coughing from smokers blowing smoke in my face, had my view blocked several times by taller people moving ahead of me, and had beer spilled all over me from the drunk woman next to me, including half a cup kicked over onto my TOMS. (Anyone know if TOMS canvas shoes can be safely washed? Hand washed or machine?)

The performance was outstanding, and they played a nice mix of songs from both of their albums. Their voices were better than many live band appearances I’ve heard, and not a single song felt phoned in. Just when I’d start to feel worn out, Fun. revitalized the crowd with their own energy and kept that energy going for the entire show. Although I didn’t feel it that night, my feet, legs and back burned the next day from standing on asphalt for so long.

Fun. performs

Seeing the band live was something I had wanted to do for over a year now, and I was glad to get my wish. Next time I’ll be a little more detailed in my wish, though, and hope they play a better venue, with actual organization, staffing, and assigned seats.

The band Fun. in Columbus

I doubt I’ll ever see another concert at the PromoWest LC Pavilion – their inability to manage a concert was astounding. Moving it to a parking lot just because the band became more popular and they wanted to sell more tickets? Awful. (Also, those who purchased tickets before it was moved weren’t eligible for any upgrades or the chance to get a refund if they didn’t want to be at the new location.)

And I’m sure there are some who would say I’m just old and can’t cope with the way younger folks do concerts. Maybe I am too old for general admission concerts now, if by “old” you mean possessing common decency and manners. The crowd looked, on average, much younger than me, but there were also plenty of older folks behaving badly.

I feel like I should start telling “when I was younger” stories right now. Why, when I was younger, we were still packed in for concerts, but we gave each other a little more space, and sure, beer got spilled occasionally, but we apologized and didn’t try to trample everyone in front of us.

Where’s my cane? Get off my lawn!

(Yes, the camera is swaying a bit in the video. I couldn’t help it – if the crowd was swaying, I was moving along with it whether I liked it or not.)

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