Protestors and Such

After a somewhat heated Twitter exchange that I didn't intend to make heated with a friend over the evacuation of Zuccotti Park, I realized there is just a lot that I don't know. It's also very hard to debate on Twitter, since you don't get a lot of characters to use, so what you learn back from someone else is a sad little snippet of their thoughts as well.

Anyway, if a "park", in this instance a stone/marble/concrete seating area, is privately owned but intended for public use, what rights do the people who use it have? Do they have the right to erect tents? I honestly don't know. I know if someone pitched a tent on my property they better damn well have cleared it with me ahead of time, or I too would kick them out in the middle of the night when they were tired and less likely to offer resistance, especially if they overstayed their welcome and I was about to be sued by business owners over lost revenue. And no, I wouldn't want to let them alert the media and make a circus out of it either.

I wouldn't, however, use pepper spray, but who am I to criticize since I wasn't there, and I don't know what really happened. And I wouldn't be evicting hundreds of people from my land. Was Zuccotti Park peacefully evacuated? Obviously not since pepper spray was involved. It wasn't violent on the scale that some of the Occupy protests have been though. It seems like it was done fairly quickly, but I haven't really paid enough attention to the after-stories to know for sure. There ARE some things I do know:

1) This "park" used to be called Liberty Plaza pre-9/11. People ate lunch there, played chess there, and generally loitered there. There is no grass. There are no bathroom facilities.
2) Brookfield Properties owns Zuccotti Park, not New York City
3) Zuccotti Park is not on Wall Street
4) Many of the "Wall Street" firms that people are protesting are not located downtown
5) NYC has a larger population than some states. The mayor of NYC therefore is a powerful person.
6) The last I knew, the mayor's salary was $1. He is a billionaire and doesn't need the city's money, so he only takes the token $1.
7) A church wouldn't let the protestors sleep on its property either, but people don't seem as upset over it

So teach me some of things I don't know. Seriously. I would like to hear.

Triple booked and nowhere to go.

I have developed this new habit of booking everything on the same day. Sometimes even at overlapping times. Yes, I am triple-booking myself, but also spreading some of them out. Take Friday for instance - I have a class coffee in the morning, a pizza night (well, 4-6 pm) at my house for the neighborhood, and then I'm going out later for drinks. At least those I spread out over time. Next Wednesday I have 3 things scheduled at the same time. I don't think the Kindergarten moms will check to see if I am over my sinus infection, nor will my hairdresser & friend, so I think I had better reschedule the overlapping doctor appointment. If I remember.

Heck, I can't even REMEMBER where I'm going. Twice today I drove right past my turns. I was apparently going home both times, except I wasn't supposed to be going home. I just forgot and was on autopilot. I think my autopilot needs to be re-set, just like that dr. appointment...

It's been awhile...

I notice that the less I write, the more my friends seem too. Perhaps it is all to maintain the balance in the blog world. Much has happened since my last post, I just haven't felt like writing. Swim team practices, swimming lessons, and swim meets in July. Girls tested for Green Belts in Tae Kwon Do in July. I've been to multiple doctors for multiple tests and issues, not all for me. Sami has been sick almost all summer with some random virus, after all.

What else? Favorite radio station taken off the air? Check. Hall bathroom finally finished? Check. Vacation? Check. Earthquake? Check. Hurricane? Check. Storm of locusts? No check. Not yet at least. Same goes for the master bath. Demolition hasn't even started for that one. The hurricane didn't help the timing either, I'm sure.

Sienna is still licking & chewing herself raw. Cat is still peeing in places he's not supposed to. The girls start school next Tuesday, Thomas the following Monday (I. CAN'T. WAIT.).

Mark's birthday is today. We even bought him a present Thursday, so I will even be able to give it to him on time. That NEVER happens. It always sneaks up on me, disguising itself as another August day, part of summer. Then WHAM, it's September and I've missed it. I wonder what calamity I have caused in the universe by being on time with his present and cards. Hmmm...

Weather from Hell?

I swear it's only July, but oof is it hot. Not that you don't know this already. Everyone's a/c is taxed to the maximum. Cafe Villa tonight didn't feel all that cool in the front because of the doors being opened and the huge ovens. Our dog is even feeling it. Between her meds (steroids/antihistamines) for her itchy skin and the weather, the dog just. can't. stop. panting. We keep kicking her out of our bedroom, because we can't even sleep through it. I took her for a walk last night, but not tonight (so perhaps she will pant less?). It was still over 90 degrees at 10:00 after all. MAYBE I will get up early and take her out in the morning. Yeah, that'll happen. Poor thing. And my kids are furious that we didn't go to the pool today and they want to stay all day tomorrow. Excuse me, but I will melt. Or worse. Sigh...

Ah, The Last Day Of School...

...and the kids still won't give me a break. We were not even off the school grounds when Janine started groveling for a play date. Granted, I don't set up a lot of play dates. Sami is such a nightmare when they are at our house, whether the play date is hers or Janine's, that I don't do it very often, not to mention all their activities (hello, Tae Kwon Do is twice a week and right now swim practice is every day). Thomas gets the shaft because his close friends don't live in our town, and I can't drive 20 minutes to a play date for him and still be back in time to get the girls from school. And do NOT expect me to be organized enough to be sending the girls off to play dates at someone else's house on the same day I have one for Thomas elsewhere.

NO. No play date today. The flood of tears opened up - from the 9 year old. Come on. Then I get a hard time because I won't take them to McDonald's. UGH. Give me a break. I can't eat much red meat for the blood condition and my stomach won't take deep fried processed foodstuffs all that often. Again, give me a break. So we go to a nearby diner and lo and behold one of our friends is there. So see, I'm not the worst mom in town, and if I am I have excellent company then.


On the way home, we decide to stop at the nearby school's playground. The kids had a blast, and I think I might have been forgiven for a few moments at least.

Goals, schmoals.

Do remember when you were a kid and people used to ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up? I never had an answer. I never knew what I wanted to be. I even took a test in the guidance office at college, and it was completely inconclusive. There was just nothing that would appeal to me long term. Short term, some things sounded fine. Long term? No. Once I hit the workplace, the question changed to "where do you see yourself in 10 years?" Again, no answer. I have never been one to set goals. Getting through the day seems a little too mundane to be called a goal, although that IS my most frequent goal as the mother of 3 kids.

I am a very practical, down to earth kind of person (I AM a triple Virgo, after all), so my interpretation of the complete lack of goals and aspirations was, quite frankly, that I would be dead by 30. No, I'm really not morbid, but there seriously was just NOTHING there in terms of goals and aspirations. So the answer must be nothing, right? Given the way people drive in parking lots, I figured that would be where I would meet my maker. I never did anything to speed along the process, mind you. Dying by 30 was really not a goal (remember, there WERE no goals).

Well 30 came and went, and so has 40. On reflection, I am a completely different person than I was in my previous decades. In a way, I did die. Missy Aylsworth no longer exists. Instead, the new version, Melissa Cavallone, has emerged. It was a metaphorical passing, not a literal one. OK, fair enough.

One day when I was talking to my mother, she made some comment that made me realize I think just the way she does. I then opened up about my thoughts regarding my lack of goals and vision, and she laughed because I indeed sound like her. Then she pointed out that my cousin Beth is the one who was in an accident in a parking lot, so I escaped that one. (Beth's ankle was broken, I believe, but thankfully she is still with us!)

There is no point to this story. No moral. No revelation. It just is. And I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

And now I know

So now I have the results of the hematology tests, and I know that it isn't all in my head. My fatigue goes beyond being the mother of 3 kids, and now at least someone will listen. And now I know why I basically collapse every weekend. After pushing through the entire week, chasing after and busing around my kids to school, Tae Kwon Do, softball, birthday parties, and music lessons, there is no energy left, no matter how much sleep I get.

Now for the fun part - finding out how often I need to get blood taken to keep it at an optimal level for me. Hmmm. It would be even better if I could have that blood taken without coming so close to passing out...

What the heck is wrong with me? Anything?

As I posted on Facebook, my doctor wanted me to see a hematologist because my platelet level seems to be running high. OK, fine, except the hematologist he wants me to see isn't in my plan. So I contact a friend who is very ill and has a doc for everything. She gives me a name, but tells me (I thought) not to see this other doc in the practice. I guess I misunderstood. I made an appointment with the one she dislikes. Oh well. Anyhow, I had my doctor's office fax over the recent blood work. I've only been seeing my doctor since I had that crazy infected lymph node on my jaw last August, but I had the prior doc's records sent over. My current doc sent over ALL the labwork, so it actually went back over four years. (Before that, most of my time was spent at the OB/GYN's office, not the GP.)

The hematologist looked at the labwork and said that my platelets were at about the same level as four years ago. REALLY? Nobody noticed that? My prior doc never mentioned that the platelets were wacky, and my doc didn't mention that it had been at this level for four years. Hmmm. OK. Also, my red blood cell count is in the high end of the normal range. OK, nobody had mentioned that either. Took a little blood today, and the cells are at least properly formed (a good sign - malformed cells would/could be cancerous, right?). Took more blood to run more tests. I should know by Monday. Sigh.

So am I having any symptoms? Well here is where it all gets wacky. Since I am on an antidepressant, most of my symptoms can be explained away as a side effect of either the depression or the medication. Fatigue, frequently chilly, night sweats, etc. I did tell the doctor recently that my hands are sometimes tingly for no apparent reason. I think I need to have a talk with the doctor about the antidepressant, but they ALL have side effects, and this one has been pretty good for me. Regardless, I still feel more tired than I think I should. I actually DID mention this to the doc four years ago, but it turned out that I was deficient in vitamin D, and I felt so much better after that, so I didn't take that any further.

However, I don't think I should be so weary, even with 3 kids, a dog, and a cat. It is so hard to drag my weary ass out of bed each day.

Reading up on possible diagnoses, well, I am not amused, but I guess I should be thankful. We are talking complete diet overhaul - getting rid of pasta (hello, my kids are Italian and love their pasta), sugar, caffeine (what do you think helps me stay awake?!), and alcohol. There may be a medication, or a bloodletting (well, that IS basically what they do!) involved as well. I'm not making any changes until I know for sure, of course. So now I need to haul my weary ass off to bed.

This will go down in history as "The Wonton Incident"

First a little back-story. I believe that everything happens for a reason. Many times, we have NO CLUE what that is at the time, and often don't make the connection even when the pieces do come together. This time, I made the connection. I have always been the child in my family that got burned. Literally. My sister cuts herself with kitchen knives by accident - I don't know which is worse. I burn myself even when I'm using potholders to take something out of the oven. When I was 12 or so, I caught my shirt on fire while cooking. Quite a feat given that we had an electric stove. I simply ran to the sink and ran the water over my shirt, putting out the fire. No stop, drop, and roll here. I also liked to catch my hot curling iron with my forearms whenever I would drop the curling iron (something I seemed to do a lot of as a kid). Why I thought my forearms were less important than a cheap curling iron, I don't know. It must have been to prepare me for last night.


I took the kids to Tae Kwon Do for buddy week. Both girls had a buddy, one of whom I then took home afterward. This meant we got home around 6:20. Kind of late to start thinking about dinner (it had been a very busy day), so we ordered Chinese food and Mark, who came home early, went and picked it up. Since it wasn't delivered, the soups were a little hotter than usual. I handed a bowl of steaming wonton soup to Janine, and before I knew it, she was screaming like bloody murder. It took me a moment to figure out what happened. She tends to overreact, and the scream wasn't too unlike the scream when she sees a bug, it was just more urgent sounding and she kept making it. She had taken the bowl of soup with one hand (chopsticks in the other hand, but close enough to the bowl that I thought she would use that hand for balance. No. Instead she had dumped the entire steaming bowl of soup onto her lap.

Mark helped her get out of her now steaming clothes while I, rather calmly I thought given the situation, wet down some washcloths to hold on the red spots. Eventually we got her horizontal and left cool, wet washcloths on her. I did have to change them a few times. The two other kids were frantic, but Mark got them settled, Janine got re-dressed, and then we all ate dinner. The food was still hot, and Janine even ate some wonton soup. By the time she went to bed, her stomach and legs weren't even red anymore. Crisis averted. No ER visit, no blisters, and able to play softball today. Phew.

Well, there you have it.

I don't know that what I have to say is all that interesting, but I guess I do approach things differently than some people, and I do try to find humor in everything. Honestly, I don't think I could survive if I didn't.

When I lived in NYC, I used to see such crazy things (normal looking man masturbating in the subway station - thank goodness he didn't get on the train when Michele & I did; crazy show in a former gas station filled with junk art; almost naked, drunk, homeless man wandering the subway station only wearing a woman's long burgundy down coat - unfastened of course, etc.). At that point I thought I should write a book, but who would want to read that?!? Now I can't remember the details of such things anyway. You probably won't hear about those again.

I honestly don't know what I WILL be writing about here. I'm sure lots will be about my children who every day push me a step further toward the white huggy jacket I have always expected to wear one day.