Mom is a Four-letter Word

Winston Churchill once said, “If you are going through hell, keep going.” Let’s just say that I am taking the ol’ bulldog’s advice to heart.

I have been very intentional about who I am surrounding myself with these days. In the midst of utter chaos, it’s amazing how quickly you learn who your real friends are. The ones that can hold you up, and more importantly, push you through hell when you are tempted to stop and just take a nap.

Lisa is one of those friends. She’s a pusher. We’ve been friends for over ten years, and she’s always had her “Team Pam” hat on. No matter how weary, wounded or angry I get, she won’t let me stop. She’s there to get me to where I need to be, even if it’s sitting on her teeny tiny shoulders.  And she has taught me to find the humor in all of this nonsense, and we laugh about it together. Sometimes until we cry. Or pee. Whichever happens first.

This weekend, I attended the uber-fab OC Blogger Ball. I was so excited to go and get a much-needed mom’s-night-out some of my favorite members of the blogfia. But I was a bundle of nerves just thinking about the impending questions. So, where is Mr. Momisa4LetterWord? Why the writing hiatus? What’s going on with you, Pam?

Wanna hear the amazing thing? Nobody asked about HIM. They wanted to talk about the campy wristlet corsage that Lisa gave me. You see, she was my date for the night. And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have spent the evening with.

Falling in love with her yet? Well, don’t. SHE’S TAKEN. But you can check her out here and here.

I know, I know, the silence is deafening. It’s killing me too.

But due to some, shall we say “stuff,” I had to make an executive decision to take a mini writing break. Or to at least scale WAY back. I am sharing this with you so if I disappear from blogdom for a bit or my infrequent posts start to REALLY suck, you’ll know what’s up.

I recently made a very grown-up decision. This wasn’t an overnight decision and in fact, it’s been a really long time coming. And that’s about as much as I can say. But for now, I am absolutely making a decision that’s in the best interest of my girls. I have no doubt in my mind that I am doing the right thing. But that doesn’t make it any less complicated.  

I’ve been advised not to write publicly about what I am going through. Since, apparently, it can (and the way things have been going WILL) be used against me. And maybe I will write anyway, for my own sanity, and post it in 100 years or when the dust settles. Whichever comes first.  

Here’s the rub–my whole website is based mostly on observational humor and the absurdities of everyday life. And right now, certain absurdities are off limits.

I know that MOST of my readers are also close friends, or my mom. Hi mom. I also know that you love and support me no matter what, and for that I am eternally grateful. 

Trust me, we’ll be in touch.

IMG_0317

I’m pretty sure I just used up of six minutes of my allotted fifteen minutes of fame. In May, I was interviewed by OC Family magazine (see it here on page 82) about being a working mom.

And then the editor Susan Belknapp (see her blog here) asked me to be part of a panel interview on “Cox Forum.”  It’s a local show about issues facing the heart of Orange County–actually, I don’t know what their shtick is–I just made that up. But I am sure it’s something like that.

I was nervous. It was the first time that I was “coming out” that I worked at CHOC Children’s. Up until that point, I only ever wrote about “working for a hospital.” That meant that I’d have to put on my PR hat and say the right thing–about one of the most hot-button issues ever. In the history of motherhood. No pressure. Now, I am no stranger to the debate between the working moms and the stay-at-homers.  But I do, obviously, have my own opinions and was nervous about whst “work Pam” could have to say about all of this. 

The good news is I was paired up with Trinka–a VP at a well-known bank, and a mother of a two-year-old. It turned out that it wasn’t even a debate. We were pretty much on the same page. There wasn’t anybody there yelling at us or pointing fingers. Just an honest discussion about the issues facing working moms.

We both answered some pretty loaded questions, and think we did okay, considering that we are amateurs.

You can see the video below. I am used to writing speaking points for people going in front of the camera, not actually being in front of it. And please be kind, I was so nervous that I wasn’t sure what to do with my hands. So I sat on them. Can you say awkward?

And the real highlight of the night? Once Trinka and realized that our little ones were fast asleep at home and there was no need to hurry home. Susan, Trinka and I went out for a yummy meal and an even yummier and much-needed drink.

 In case you wanted to know, I plan to use the last nine minutes toward a windfall lottery mega win and when I am interviewed by Oprah. And in case you want to see me at OC Family, click here.

My apologies for the radio silence. I have been cut open, sewn up, and neared death more than once. Then, I completely lost my marbles, moved in with my parents, was babied by my mommy and moved back home, only to be tortured by my babies.

That’s right, I got my tonsils out.

I work at a hospital where I regularly interact with some of the world’s top physicians and surgeons. When I told them I’d be out for a couple of weeks to have the procedure–the reaction was NEVER good.

Here are some ACTUAL responses from docs and/or nurses here at the hospital:

“Yikes!”

“You are going to feel like you are swallowing shards of glass.”

“I am SO sorry. I will pray for you.”

“It’s worse pain than childbirth or kidney stones, you know that, right?”

“It’s the worst surgical recovery possible. Your C-section will seem like a day at the park.”

“Recovery for kids is SO much easier.” –thanks for telling me that TWENTY FIVE YEARS AGO

“Great! You won’t be able to talk!”–from one of my favorite surgeons and part-time heckler

“You are going to be planning my death the first week post-op.”–from my actual ENT surgeon that took ‘em out

After heeding such ominous warnings one might think that I would change my mind. But the wheels were in motion. I was having the same Strep Throat infection 4-5 times a year. I was really sick with throat-related infections the last two Christmases. The final straw, for me, was that I kept passing infections to the babies. I’d get well while they were sick, then they’d give it back to me, just as they were getting better. It was a vicious cycle. We were a big hot (literally) feverish, drugged-up mess. It had to stop.

So I did it. I had the surgery. As they wheeled me into the operating room, happy as a clam, being pumped full Versed, I had thoughts of grandeur, about how awesome I was for making such a great sacrifice for my family. It can’t be THAT bad, right? I can do this. Then I nodded quietly off to sleep.

When I opened my eyes, I gasped. There had to have been some mistake. A scalpel had been left in my throat. That was the only explanation. I opened my mouth to tell Rob to get help and nothing came out. There wasn’t a scalpel there, of course, but it sure as HECK felt like it. And remained that way until two days ago, which, just as a frame of reference, was 11 days post-op.

You see, with most surgeries, the pain is the worst in the beginning, then gets better each day. That is SO not what happened. In fact, by day four, I was ready to die just to find relief. I stayed with my parents for almost a week, who lovingly took care of me when I can confidently say I was at my worst. Ever. The whole thing was a sleepy, sweaty, painful blur. Every sip was so painful, I would gag, and whatever I was trying to drink would dribble out of my nose.

Even though I am still drinking Ensure* as my meals, I am on my way to recovery. I am back at work and 12 pounds lighter (although this isn’t exactly a viable weight-loss option–I suggest lap band or something WAY less painful.)

I am not writing this to scare anyone out of a tonsillectomy. I wanted to share the TRUTH so that you know what to expect. It was horrible, but in the totally worth it. It has made me stronger. My family and I will be healthier. Seriously if I can get through that, I can get through anything. And so can you.

When I came back to work, a colleague of mine said, “Pain must agree with you. You look great.”

“Thanks,” I said sheepishly, secretly knowing it was the narcotics.

*I was not in any way compensated by Ensure, but IF the lovely folks at Ensure want to send me a couple free cases, I’ll totally take it. It’ll be another few weeks that I am on this liquid/soft food diet. Just sayin.

Ethel said her first actual word over the weekend. She pointed at Lucy’s sippy cup and uttered “aab.” I should have been thrilled. But I wasn’t. It felt like I got punched in the gut. You see, “aab” is Farsi for “water.” But I don’t speak Farsi, my sitter does.

It’s guess it’s part of the suitcase-worth of guilt I drag around with me each day. It was a really hard decision to make to go back to work, and one that I didn’t take lightly. I did was right for me and my family. I truly believe that I am a better wife and happier mom because of my career. I mean, I LOVE my job. Every day, I have the opportunity to do exactly what I am best at–while supporting a cause that I believe in with all of my heart.  

But once in a while, a moment will sneak up on me like this. One that breaks my heart a little. I can’t help but feel a bit territorial. First words are for mommies, not sitters. And it reminds me, again, what I’ve given up for my career.

I have a fantastic sitter, who loves my girls as if they were her own. To be totally honest, I really am so happy that my girls are leaning English and some Farsi at the same time–especially while it’s so easy for them to learn. Lucy often times asking for “shir” instead of “milk.” I know that I asked her to teach them. But for some reason, it still stings.

I was recently interviewed by OC Family magazine (see it here on page 82) about being a working mom. My pull-quote was “Don’t worry about home when you are at work, and don’t worry about work when you are at home.”

Sounds like I need a dose of my own medicine.

To be honest, I’ve always had a running a mental list of what would make me happy. If I only had (fill in the blank) I’d be happy. And over the years, that (blank) has changed. It was a complicated moving target.

But something happened when I became a mom. You’ll see what I mean.

Five Things That Made Me Happy Before Babies:

1. A relaxing mani/pedi on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

2. Happy Hour(s).

3. Sporadic trips to DC and/or NYC. Riding on airplanes on a whim.

4. Sleeping in.

5. GordiePug sleeping in our bed.

Five Things That Make Me Happy Now:

1. When I am able to carry a small purse, not full of baby-related accouterments.

2. Sleeping, slightly sweaty babies.

3. Washing travel mugs and pre-loading the coffee maker the night before.

4. Getting to work without spit-up on my clothes or in my hair.

5. Finding out, the hard way, that maybe I AM cut out for this motherhood business after all.

Wanna be part of Five for Ten? Click here.

P.S. April Fool’s!

…just puppets. Read more in my post at OC Family.