Emotional Cabin Fever

Mootsie has Hirschsprung's Disease (HD).

For her first birthday, she traveled via ambulance to Children's Hospital in Minneapolis. It took a while to get a definitive diagnosis; most patients present symptoms within weeks of birth. Especially if it's long segment, or involving the complete colon, like Mootsie's.

I'm sure I'll be writing more about this in the future, so for the time being, I'll give you the Reader's Digest version. She had her colon removed in December. She has had a few bouts of dehydration which have required hospitalization since then. Currently, she is in the hospital again, for dehydration caused by catching rotavirus.

I have a pretty melancholy disposition and this recent challenge has brought that to the forefront more than I wish. I have battled for years against this state of mind, and it's been a losing battle the past couple of weeks. Even before she was hospitalized most recently.

I was thinking recently about *why* I wasn't getting cabin fever. Especially given the aforementioned temperament. This is our first year in Minnesota. We moved here from Arizona. Logic would tell me I should be getting a little stir crazy. But I wasn't. Then, as I was doing a load of laundry, it occurred to me. I *knew* the end was near. I knew that within a matter of weeks, I'd be able to go outside with just a jacket and without my nose hairs freezing. I knew I'd soon be able to plant things. I knew that I'd be able to have the weather calls reversed. No longer would smug relatives be calling, bragging about 70 degree weather. I'd be the smug relative bragging about 70 degree weather. We'd have *green* in ways that Arizona just doesn't.

But Mootsie's situation is giving me big time emotional cabin fever. It seems there is not an end in sight. And that makes me sad. It makes me want to rage like a mad woman. It makes me glad we don't have a dog, because I'd kick it. It makes me want to shake my fist at life. It makes me feel trapped. I don't know how to break free of it.

All the pat answers are cold comfort right now. I don't think there are any consolation prizes for this one. I guess now that I've reached the end of my rope, I need to tie a knot and wait for the snow to melt.

Lent

Sigh.

I really wanted to be dedicated and successful. My sister has been doing Lent for the past couple years and she told me it was a very spiritual act. I was game. Mormons (which I am) don't usually practice Lent. But I felt like I needed to gain control of my natural man and I like the idea of Lent and the potential it has to draw me closer to my Savior. I decided to give up chocolate, caffeine, and processed food (no white flour, pasta, sugar, etc.).

And I did really well. For about 10 days. Whoever decided to have Valentine's Day during Lent, anyway?! I'm an all-or-nothing type gal. It's been very hard for me to get back on track. Especially since I got a *horrible* case of the flu. I have a firm delusion that chocolate is a miracle cure. It at least helped me feel better about the oh-my-gosh-just-put-me-out-of-my-misery sensations I was having. Now, I'm pretty much over the flu, although I still hack like I've smoked a carton a day since I was 5.

But it's my birthday. Or it was this week and we were all too sick to celebrate properly. So, I have a huge chocolate cake with cream cheese mousse filling from Costco waiting for tonight's celebration.

Maybe I can practice Lent this year on my own terms. Maybe I can start over with the Greek Orthodox calendar on March 10. I don't think I want to give up quite yet. A fellow homeschooling friend wrote this article. And I think if I get nothing else out of Lent this year, applying this wisdom will be worth giving up chocolate over Easter. I think.

Pseudonyms

I figure to protect the innocent and my children, I'll be using pseudonyms.

Skater Chick gripes about her pseudonym, but has yet to come up with something else to be called. *sigh* Teens can be *so* hard to work with.

Of course, we've met Skater Chick, Half Pint, Sweet Cheeks, Little Fella, Mootsie, and Papa. But there are other people in my life, and as I mention them, I'll think of groovy things to call them.

I can hardly wait! {said rubbing her hands together in a conspiratorial fashion}

Speak Reddenese?

Okay, let me preface this with the fact that some may find this nauseating. And others may be shaking their heads at the seeming lack of language development concern that Papa and I have.

But we speak Reddenese. You could also call it Reddenish.

Each of our kids have their own dialect and have contributed to the vernacular.

It all started with Skater Chick. Since she was our first, and naturally on the smart side, she said most of her words flawlessly. Except water. Papa spent shameful amounts of time trying to make her say water. She said Mahcose© * Said ma, like mama, and cose, like sucrose, lactose, fructose, etc.

Anyway, Papa was much more persistent than I. He had frequent conversations with her that went like this:

Papa: Say "wa"

Skater Chick: wa

Papa: Good. Now say "ter".

Skater Chick: ter

Papa: Okay. Now together. Say "water"

Skater Chick: Mahcose.

Papa slaps hand to forehead and tries again. And again. And again. He's not a quitter, I'll give him that.

Then one day, Skater chick and I are driving around. She's talking about something, then BAM! pulls a complete non sequitur. Says she, "Uncle Crusty (a pseudonym) says it's said water, so I'm going to say water from now on."

And that was the end of it. Or it could have been. But Papa and I think it's cute. So sometimes we use it. After all, we *are* fluent speakers of Reddenese.

*Skater Chick said mahcose is a copyrighted term and cannot be used without her permission. I do not have her permission, but since she is a minor, her property is mine, unless she takes me to court and challenges it. And frankly, I don't think her argument against me would hold much mahcose.