Bird on the Street

A Birthday Ramble

10:23 pm

Anybody remember when blogs weren’t full of polished entries, but were more of a dumping group for whatever you were thinking at the moment? Well, welcome to 2005 because tonight I’m just rambling a bit.

It’s my birthday and I am now thirty-four years old. Thirty-four! For some reason the even numbers always feel a lot older than the odds.

So I’m feeling a little old, and I’m also pretty sure I’m done having babies, and suddenly I find myself thinking about what my next big project will be. Since the summer I’ve been feeling some rather intense pressure to “pick a lane.” I feel like I know how to do some things, and I’ve got some knowledge and skill, but I have no freaking idea what I should be doing.

I definitely think I should be writing about something. Took me six months to narrow that down. I have a few topics in mind, but I keep bouncing here and there, back and forth, and OH MY WORD JUST PICK A LANE!

Like I said, I think I’m narrowing it down, but it’s hard. In the whining about things that ridiculously not worth whining about department, it’s hard to pick a lane when no one really cares what you do. Doesn’t that sound melodramatic? I guess what I mean is I’m a mom. I’m a mom first and if I find something to do in my spare time, then great, but I could knit, or scrapbook, or whatever. Nobody’s waiting for me to start bringing home a paycheck. This should be a dream, but it leaves me with options–sooooo many options. A lot of options is dangerous. I know–woe is me.

So while I ruminate on what the heck I’m doing with my life–is this a mid-life crisis?–I’ll ask the people who read this blog about theirs. Have you picked a lane? What is it? If you could do anything you want starting tomorrow, what would you do?

This post brought to you by the number thirty-four.

Maybe now that I’m old I’ll remember to wear makeup and stop taking pictures of myself with my cell phone. . . doesn’t seem likely, though.

Filed Underdecisions

Self Discovery A-Go-Go

8:40 pm

The other night I tweeted about this briefly, but in the last few weeks I’ve had one of those uncomfortable personal revelations. I’ve never figured out exactly why it’s so easy to see things in other people’s lives while being completely oblivious to your own. If you figure that one out, let me know.

Well here’s what I’ve realized: I am not an entrepreneur.

If you know me in real life this is ridiculous. Of course I’m not an entrepreneur. OF COURSE. I don’t like business. I don’t like money. I mean, I like having money, but I don’t enjoy extracting it from others. I derive very little pleasure from earning money. I know I NEED it to live and eat and whatnot, but I was totally the girl who found three uncashed checks in her drawer when I finished my last job. I’m not motivated by money. I often work for free and love to volunteer my time.

But I love entrepreneurs. Adore them. I love people with ideas and passion. I love people who are making their dreams come true. I love people who work hard. I love innovators.

Sadly, however, I don’t think I’m one of them.

I actually think I might be–gasp–a creative.

I know.

I am so resistant to this idea. I think of creatives as the type of people who can’t be depended upon. They are flaky and always late and have no common sense. I like to believe I’ve got common sense. It’s OK for other people to be creative, but me? No, sir. I’m way to level-headed for that.

There’s also that whole thing where being creative means putting yourself out there. You can hide a little with paint, but writing? I have always felt rather firmly that I am NOT a writer. Writers are smarter than I am. Writers are better at grammar and writers probably don’t read detective novels. I’m pretty sure they sit around reading Proust in their spare time. I’m also sure that writers did not get B’s in English like I did.

But here I am (starting a sentence with a conjunction) typing away on this keyboard day after day.

I’m not an entrepreneur, but maybe I’m a writer.

Filed Underdecisions

Going Off Book

8:58 pm

Charlie has had very few well-child visits. Like, his last one was two years ago. I think. In the beginning he was so sick and we were in and out of the doctor’s office so often, that well-visits just weren’t on my radar. I didn’t really see the need to go visit the doctor and find out if he was developing on schedule. He wasn’t. Obviously. And that checklist they give you when you arrive? That can bite me.

The main reason I decided to have one of these well-child visits was somewhat controversial. For almost a year now it’s been on my heart that I need to have Charlie vaccinated against tetanus. Charlie’s neurologist advised us about two years ago that we should avoid unnecessary vaccinations because he has a very ugly EEG and vaccinations have been known to cause seizures. Charlie had a very severe form of epilepsy as a baby and we have managed to keep things in check since then. Still, rocking the boat is not recommended. DTap in particular carries a caution for his specific type of epilepsy–it must be stabilized and under control before administering it.

Unfortunately, DTap is the only way for a child under seven to be vaccinated against tetanus. You may be able to find a doctor that would administer it before that, but it’s not FDA approved before age seven. Seven is a LONG ways away and meanwhile I have a very oral child who loves to put his mouth on cool, metallic objects. I only had to see him try to mouth the chain of a porch swing once to know that if there’s tetanus out there, Charlie would be the one to find it. Not everyone worries about Tetanus, but me? Well, I don’t like any illness that includes “convulsions.” Nope, not one bit.

After I thought about it for a very long while, I remember that Charlie had the DTaP vaccine at two months(before his epilepsy appeared) and had no ill effects that I noticed. Of course, he then went on to develop epilepsy, so take that with a grain of salt, but I didn’t think the two were related. I took that information, combined with my fear of tetanus, and my general dislike for pertussis (I had it a few years back), and decided to go ahead with the DTaP vaccine. Let me tell you, NOTHING is scarier than having your doctor ask you, “you do have emergency seizure meds at home, right?” Nothing. They should hand out nerves of steel right after they cut the umbilical cord, amirite?

The shot itself went fantastic. I had talked to Charlie about it several times before we went and he didn’t even shed a tear. Well, he shed a lot of tears, but that was because I had the nerve to put away my iPhone when it was time to go home. I’m a mean mommy like that. I kept a very close eye on him for the next few hours and he had absolutely no ill-effects from the shot. And now? We’re vaccinated against tetanus. Yay!

It’s hard to make a decision like this. In my family, I make almost all of the decisions about my children’s health and well-being with very little input from my husband. While I appreciate the trust, it can be very scary to make those sorts of decisions for another human being. What if I’m wrong? I often think that burden is the hardest thing about being a parent–making decisions that actually could be life or death. Nothing I did before parenting prepared me for that.