So Bizarre...

So for those of you who don't know, we have a small jewelery store. (Come! Buy! We're nice!) Jewelery stores have both (a) safes and (b) alarm systems. The safes are on metal plates with tons of alarm features-vibration sensors, movement sensors, damage sensors. You name it, there's a sensor for it. Benjie's safe looks something like this: It's big. It weighs like 500 pounds. Or maybe 1000 pounds. Honestly. I'm not joking.

So Benjie has intermittent issues with his vibration sensors-as in the go off all. the. time. for. no reason. The vibration sensor is supposed to register if someone is drilling into the safe. It's not supposed to go off at 4:37 am for four nights in a row. It seriously makes no sense.

On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights, the alarm went off at 4:31 am, 4:36 am and 4:37 am respectively. There was nothing wrong. All we got was a phone call in the middle of the night and a good shot of adrenaline, because phone calls in the middle of the night usually mean either someone was born or someone died. If the entire jewelry mall was not alarmed, and motion sensored, and barred with metal grates, I'd be really nervous by this three nights in a row alarm issue.

But because of all the security there, I'm more just completely perplexed. Because, while the alarm did not go off last night, we DID get a phone call at 4:21 am. It was Privacy Manager and no one was there. But the phone DID ring.

So why has my phone rung at 4 am for the past four nights in a row? Is G-d trying to give me some type of message? Am I supposed to be getting up then to say Tikkun Chatzos (a kabbalistic prayer that I'm not even sure what it's for)? Why is this happening?

It's so bizarre...

On another note, ADT is coming to service the alarm today.

My Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day

(Alternately titled: How Sara Got High and Hated It)

So yesterday, about 3 minutes after I finished my post, I got a call from Dovi's school that his eye was swollen and probably had conjunctivitis. I was most confused because his eye had been fine when he left for school about two hours prior. I was informed that his eye was swollen and looked like it might be getting a sty, and was goopy.

I was ticked and not overly polite, more because I was about to lose yet another day of work than anything else. I will not repeat what I said to the nurse as I picked him up. It was not pretty. Then I proceeded to wait over an hour in the eye doctor's office. Sure enough, he is getting a sty, which you do nothing for. And he has a very very mild case of conjunctivitis that he decided to treat more because of Dovi's history than because it really needed it. So he's on eye drops and is going to school come hell or high water. Yes, I have a note clearing him for school. Assuming the eye is not having discharge. Which it is not.

So D and I tootled on home, stopping to pick up the eye drops. While there I asked about the status of another one of his meds that is having insurance issues. For whatever reason, Medicaid, after paying for this med for 2 1/2 years, has now decided to deny it. They are trying to get it approved but so far, no go. I guess they'd rather pay for him to be hospitalized when he gets pneumonia, being as this is a med for his nebulizer. Fab.

Dovi and I ate lunch, and decided that it was not worth it to waste a perfectly good day off. So we headed out with a friend to heaven Homegoods, where we got a few little things and Dovi broke some tacky snowman plate, which they thankfully did not charge me for.

Then all the lovelies came home, we had dinner (chili in baked potatoes-amazing success!), did homework, and I dropped them all off at my in laws and headed out to my dentist appointment.

My teeth are even worse than I thought.

Remember I got two cavities filled a few weeks back?

Well now I have four more cavities and a tooth that needs to get EXTRACTED. As in pulled out. I need an implant! I think I need to yank them all out and get dentures.

So tonight I got two of the four cavities filled. Like last time, I got nitrous oxide. Unlike last time, I had a crappy insane reaction.

Firstly, I'm 100% sure that he drugged me up and left me to go treat another patient. Who was screaming to him about how she would have never bothered him for one broken tooth, but she has THREE broken teeth! But then again I might have been tripping. I seriously had insane hallucinations? thoughts? what are they called? At one point I recall the dentist saying "wow, she's getting really twitchy". What did that mean? Yikes!

On to my reaction:

I was out for like an hour and a half. When I came to, I was soooo out of it. I honestly don't remember checking out at the desk. I think I wrote a check to them. Not sure if it was for the correct amount.

Then I went outside and called Benjie and made him stay on the phone with me as I prepared to drive home. I've never been drunk, but imagine this must be what it felt like. I still can't believe I drove home. It was not a good idea.

I got home and collapsed onto the couch, feeling really sick. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I felt perfectly fine.

It was bizarre. Not an experience I would like to repeat. Although I will.

In a few weeks when I GET MY TOOTH EXTRACTED.

To Push or Not to Push

So, for the past year and a half or so, Dovi has been going to a reading tutor. He goes. He works. He reads. A little. As in less than my six year olds. He tries.

But he has such a hard time. I'm not sure why it's so hard for him. Is it because he wasn't pushed so much at school? Hi Keshet people, I know you read this. And I also know that you know that Keshet's AMAZING strength, and I mean AMAZING, MIND BLOWING strength, is inclusion and socialization. Dovi rocks the inclusion world. He has friends! Real, honest to goodness, friends at Schechter. He is able to appropriately navigate his way through social situations. Benjie was shocked one day, when Dovi, upon meeting someone new, extended his hand and said, "Hi, I Dovi. What your name?" So appropriate socialization? Keshet rocks. But educationally, academically, well, he hasn't been pushed as much as I might have hoped.

So is the reading tutor an example of too little, too late? Am I trying to get him to do something that he is simply just not capable of? I have visions of him sitting and enjoying a book. Maybe not War and Peace, but why not a Judy Blume book? Beezus and Ramona? That's what I want.

I crazy love reading. If I could, I would sit in my den, on my couch, with a cup of tea, reading all day. I could literally sit and read all day long. I want him to have that joy. But then again, Benjie...ummm...not a reader. We've been married 11 1/2 years (yikes). He's read maybe six books. And lest you doubt me honey, what have you read since we've been married besides a few Harry Potter books, a few John Grishams, The Kite Runner, and now you're reading The Book Thief? It's not a judgment. I certainly can't play ice hockey. You can. We have different interests that way.

But back to Dovi. Maybe he got Benjie's reading genes? Maybe I'm pushing him to do something that he just does not have any interest or ability in doing. He had his IQ tested when he was 6. It was not the greatest test because his expressive language was a tad lacking (as in he hadn't started the mind blowing, life altering PROMPT therapy yet so his entire expressive language consisted of "yah"). So he tested as moderately cognitively impaired. The tester felt the score was artificially low due to the lack of language. For example, he was shown a picture of a red box. He knew his colors. But since he couldn't say "red" he didn't get credit. If given choices, he could choose the right answer. But because he couldn't verbally express the answer, he didn't get the credit.

So I guess the whole point of this ramble is:

Should I be pushing him? Should he be going to the tutor after a whole day of school? Or should he maybe be going twice a week? She says he's progressing. But it's the eensy weensiest baby steps I've ever encountered. So is it worth it? Or should I just say, he's happy-let him be?

A Crafty Momma

Ahhh...back to fluffy unsubstantial posts.

I love crafts. I really do. I could spend hours in the craft store, just looking at all the possibilities. I would love to take sewing classes someday. Last night Benjie abandoned me went to the calling night for Eskape (Come! Really! You know you want to!) so I decided to spend the evening watching HGTV and making the pretty princess some new hairbows. I must say I was highly productive, in a bizarre, mommy type of way.





The rubber bands were a new experiment but I must say I think they turned out quite nicely (aside from taking me 10 minutes to put in her hair this morning because I kept ending up with her pony upside down...)

Defining Moment/Not Me Monday

I'm renaming my "Not Me Monday" Post. Reason will be obvious as you read.

First I will give you my not me's:

I did not have my kids' backpacks packed up, lunches, snacks, and homeworks, all ready to go, at 3pm this afternoon. Thank G-d for the end of vacation!

Remember the car from last week that smells like something died?

Well I would NEVER still be ignoring said odor and just toodling around in the stinkiest minivan known to man. Kinda still hoping Benjie will deal with that.


Now onto my most major "Not Me"

I don't ever, ever wonder what my life would be like if Dovi had not been Dovi. As in if he had just been Dovi, and not "Dovi with FD". Ooh, deep. You didn't expect this, didja? You were expecting my usual funny not me's. Well, I gave you those. This is a blog about Life with Dovi, not Sara's life. So you're getting the Dovi crap now.

Some people can easily pinpoint the defining moment of their lives. The exact second when their lives changed forever. I am one of those people. Dovi was born at 7:31 am on November 13, 1997. At that exact moment, my life as I previously knew it was over. There's before, and there's after. And there is really no correlation, no similarities between the two. At 7:30 am, I was the blissfully ignorant, immature, clueless 20 year old about to have her cute little baby-toy honeymoon baby with her hot hubby of 8 months (yes, he was one month early, all you jokers out there). At 7:31 am I was the parent of a terminally ill child. But I didn't know it yet.

My entire life has been changed by that minute. Seriously. My child spacing plans have changed. My family size plans have changed. My career plans have changed. How I spend my time has changed. My friends have changed. My attitude has changed. Everything has changed.

I had this vision of having my kids crazy close together. Like MckMama close. (hey that's my mention back to MckMama on Not Me Monday). Like Benjie and I joked when I was pregnant with Dovi that we should just buy a double stroller because we'd be filling the second seat within a year or so. Instead I have an almost 11 year old and three 6 year olds. That's not exactly close together.

I wanted kids. Lots of kids. I love being pregnant (I know, I'm a freak). I love kids. I insanely love babies. Everyone knows that. I'm the nut at the park who grabs your baby, holds it for a while, and smothers it with kisses. While you watch to make sure I don't kidnap it. I have four kids. That's not a small family, by any stretch. But who know what will be in the future? The D man keeps me busy.

I was going to be a CPA. Instead I am a bookkeeper. I work maybe 26 hours per week, but my hours are dictated by Dovi's doctor/therapy schedule, not by my kids' school hours. I physically can not work more hours, no matter how much I'd want to. Because Dovi needs stuff.

I now spend much of my spare time running from doctor to therapy to school. Special ed school. I also spend much other time on the phone, fighting and cajoling people to give Dovi what he needs, what he deserves. It is not fun.

I have two close friends from before Dovi. That's all. I don't think anyone else was ready to deal with the enormity of Dovi meant to me, and by extension, them. Things change. Friends change. Which brings me to:

I now have a low tolerance for crap and bullsh**. Benjie teases me about it all the time. But here's the bottom line. I don't have time for crap. I've got things to do, people to fight with see, and don't waste my time.

So I wonder, what would it be like in my life, with no FD, no Keshet, no Chai Lifeline (speaking of which, if you live in Chicago, have kids, and like entertaining them, or even don't have kids but like having a good time, please come to Chai Lifeline's event this Suday-EsKape! Benjie has worked his tuches off for this event!), no Camp Simcha, no ENH Therapy Clinic, no Speech with Gail, no Walgreens, no midnight pharmacy runs, no nurse overnight in my house five nights a week, no DSCC, no fighting, no exhaustion (Dovi was up 10pm-2am Saturday night-we seem to have cycled back into a non-sleeping mode), no ...anything.

What would I do? Seriously? How would I spend my days? I can't even imagine.

But all this rambling brings me to one ultimate conclusion:

How I spend my days, how the D man is, is exactly the way G-d wants it to be. I can not, and will not ever claim to have any understanding whatsoever why G-d found it necessary to give Dovi FD. Frankly, I think it 100% totally sucks. I cannot in any way, shape, or form, no matter how much I wrack my brain, come up with one redeeming factor of the FD for Dovi. I got to make lots of friends I would never have met, etc etc etc. But that's for me. For Dovi? Not so much. Frankly, there is no good, in my humble opinion, in, for example, waking up every. morning. of. your. life. retching. As in he'd be puking if he didn't have a fundoplication. It's not enjoyable.

So instead of killing myself trying to understand, I have to say that obviously it has to be that G-d has a plan for Dovi, for me and Benjie, for my family, for the world at large, greater than me, or Dovi. If I spent time dwelling on that, I would literally be living in the loony bin. I would not be able to carry on. So, I know, I truly believe in my heart of hearts, that for whatever reason, my life is exactly how it should be. It's nothing like I planned. As you read, NOTHING like I planned. Seriously-who's life is this? Certainly not what I mapped out. But it's how it's supposed to be.

So that's that. Deal with it. (remember, I have a low tolerance for bullsh**!)

I'm SO Cracking Up

So I was peeking at the most recent keywords that brought people to my blog. I think that I have the all time best winner:

"What do wild dovis eat"

Last time I checked, THIS Wild Dovi exists on a steady diet of Peptamen Junior

and Pedialyte Singles
with the occasional addition of

fish sticks

and the most important food group of all, chicken wontons.


That, dear readers, is


What Wild Dovis Eat.

Well that was ugly.

So yesterday we were at our friends Alita and Michael's (see, you get a shout out here) for a late lunch. Or was it more like a linner? Lupper? Whatever. It was yummy. Tomato Feta Salad. Orzo with Pesto and Mushrooms. Pasta with Roasted Tomatoes. Caramelized Onion/Thyme Pizza. Oh and some Wacky Mac and Fish Sticks for the kidlets.

So I'm sitting in the kitchen reading the paper as Alita is washing dishes, looking forward to my Coconut Cupcake and cup of tea for dessert, when I get the dreaded call from Benjie:

"Sara, can you come here for a minute?"

That can only mean one thing:

The D Man has yet again managed to mangle himself in some way.

Sure enough. He somehow fell down one or two steps in the basement and managed to whack his face onto something (floor? step? it's anyone's guess).

Then the inside of his cheek got stuck to his braces bracket. And since he doesn't feel any pain, he merely ripped his cheek off the brace. Leaving a CRATER in the inside of his mouth. It's seriously nasty. It's about the size of my pinky nail and about as deep. It was bleeding. His cheek was swelling. Images of the ER and stitches began dancing in my head.

But it was a holiday. Now now, don't get all upset. OF COURSE we'd take him to the ER on a holiday. If he needed it. Which we weren't sure if he did. I mean-it was nasty. But was it that nasty?

Situations such as this call for strolls to the local resident Pediatricians/ER Doctors who live nearby. Some of them even keep suture kits at home for just these events. For example when my sister in law got her finger stuck. in. her. immersion. blender. blade. ten minutes before candle lighting. yes. it was that bad. It was hand over the head, feeling the blood pulse out bad. Her next door neighbor the ER doctor stitched it right up.

So we dumped D in his wheelchair and strolled down the street to said ER Doctor. He looked in Dovi's mouth. Declared it a "dirty wound". Did you know that human mouths have more bacteria than dog mouths? How is that? I was mighty disgusted by that. But since it was in his inner cheek, and it wasn't like he had a hole in his mouth, he told us to swipe him with a mixture of half hydrogen peroxide, half water a few times per day, and it would heal quickly.

First he wanted us to have him gargle four times per day. I'd like to remind you all of Dovi's issues with liquid in the mouth. So we settled on swiping.

Anyway, we went to the dentist this morning (who needs to work, anyway?) Dr. Bob said it's nasty but no need to do anything further. It should heal in a week or so. But knowing our luck it'll get infected and require IV antibiotics.

That's it in Dov-land. Over and out.