Sleepless Nights

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  • I appear to have broken my filter

    I spotted the Fake Mamamia hashtag on twitter this morning and wasn’t going to get involved. That is, until I saw a real MM article about some lady who got an all expenses paid trip to Tasmania – a place she thought that she hated, and bagged out plenty. But apparently in this day and age, an all expenses paid trip wins, even if you think you’ll hate the location.

    She went on to be ASTOUNDED and AMAZED that she actually (wait for it) ENJOYED HERSELF.

    Shock. Horror.

    I was offended and said so on twitter.

    Then I looked at the #FakeMamamia hashtags and I couldn’t help it anymore, I joined in, because come on, that site SO had it coming. Click baiting headlines, setting women up against each other, hating on people for making different choices, you could argue that Mamamia is all that’s wrong with women’s media at the moment.

    It was HILARIOUS. I haven’t had that much fun on twitter in a very long time.

     

     

     

     

     

    There were hundreds of fake headlines. It was fantastic.

    As I tweeted though, enjoying every single minute of mocking that I did, I realised something: I’ve broken my filter.

    I’ve spent the last 17 days writing fiction for NaNoWriMo. I’ve removed the ads from here. I’ve turned down all the sponsored posts I’ve been offered. I (mostly) stopped checking my traffic. I stopped caring.

    And I haven’t regretted a single moment of it. I wasn’t tweeting this morning worrying about what people thought of me. I wasn’t crippled by angst over the unfollows I got (and trust me, I checked, I got plenty of those), or about whether I was annoying anyone.

    I was having fun, saying exactly what I wanted to say. I didn’t even freak out when my tweet ended up on the SMH [who, incidentally, completely missed the satire of the whole thing, and seemed to think that one single tweet had “caused” it, rather than a buildup over god knows how long] and then syndicated through a bunch of other news sites. Eh, it could have been worse.

    Fiction writing has broken my filter*. And it’s awesome.

    *I should clarify that when I say my filter, I mean the filter of “oh noes, what will people THINK OF ME” filter. Not that handy one that stops me oversharing about my vagina, or telling hilariously embarassing tales about my 6yo. Also, when I talk amout MM, obviously I am grmbling about the site in general, not about the woman who runs it. No personal attacks occured during my hilarity. Calm down.

     


  • A series of seemingly unrelated things

    Evelyn had a Paeds appointment this afternoon.

    I just stopped and thought about that. That particular line has been the starting line of more blog posts than I care to imagine. You’d think with my super powers that I’d be able to think of new and exciting ways to let you know that Evie saw her doctor, but apparently, you’d be wrong.

    In any case, she saw the Paediatrician today and he is stumped, but! not really. but! kind of. but! these things should not be related, but might be, but probably aren’t.

    Evelyn appears to have contracted cytomegalovirus at some point, probably while she was in utero. I don’t know much about it and at this stage I’m a bit loathe to google too much, but I do know that it can cause seizures …

    [Digression: If we go through all of this, this EVERYTHING, only to be told that she’s not having seizures, but now she has something that seemingly can cause seizures, I will be VERY ANNOYED if they decide that she IS actually seizing. Because it sure as hell looks like seizures still to me and “twitchy episodes” or “non-epileptic myoclonic episodes” as they’re technically being called does not have the same ring to it when I’m watching my daughters eyes roll into the back of her head while her face twitches.]

    … because of calcification in the brain. Now, when Evie had her MRI at the grand old age of five and a half weeks, or around 10 days corrected, it didn’t show any calcification and common sense would tell you that there needs to be calcification first to cause the symptoms she is having. But common sense would also tell you that if she had had cytomegalovirus, then there would be both IgG and IgM antibodies in her blood and urine – whereas she only had IgG antibodies (inherited from me, because I’ve had it an am immune). BUT, trumping everything, they found DNA PCR in her urine (that’s what they told me, anyway), which is apparently a better diagnosis than just antibodies?

    All of that is to say, I’m not sure how much of the IgG and IgM and PCR stuff you understand, goodness knows I’m barely wrapping my head around any of it.

    End result: Evie has had cytomegalovirus and it might be the cause of some of her issues and it might not. She might be terribly broken, or she might be entirely asymptomatic. We just don’t know. She’s been referred off to have another hearing test and a brain ultrasound in any case, so we’ll see what those show.

    Unrelated: She’s also having her adrenal function tested, because her skin continues to darken, making her look rather like she’s trying to hide a solarium habit from me. As a child of completely Caucasian parents, her nipples should be the darkest part of her torso, not the lightest. Again, it could be nothing, but darkening skin is an adrenal thing and we’re checking it.

    I think she’s also having another liver test, among other things*

    Also unrelated: Her development continues to suck. I mean that in the very nicest way of course. She’s just barely hitting some of her 6 week milestones now (at almost 16 weeks), and so I’ve got a handy dandy developmental chart to fill out before our next appointment in a month.

    *I say tested, but we didn’t do the bloods today because it was all too much, and PACU was very busy taking blood from a poor screaming toddler. We’ll get the bloods done when she has her ultrasound next week.

  • Happy Birthday to me!

    Happy Birthday Cake

    It’s my birthday today. I went and spent all my money at the nursery, buying trees. It’s a good day.

    I’m 24 today.

  • All baby, all the time

    While I’m busy writing a story [see the sidebar for my wordcount progress], you’re stuck with baby photos.

    I KNOW. It’s TERRIBLE. I can feel you boycotting me right now.

    She’s 15 weeks old chronologically, and 11-12 weeks old corrected.

    That second photo is Evelyn’s best attempt at lifting her head while on her stomach, which still looks remarkably like it did a few weeks ago.

    Eh, she’ll either manage it or she won’t.

  • The many faces of Evelyn’s tongue

    Which is basically to say, the baby pokes her tongue out A LOT. Like, all the time, pretty much.

    She continues to be adorable and slightly weird. No real changes in anything – her vision is in and out, her hearing is similar and her twitchy episodes continue to occur regularly. She’s almost 15 weeks old now and is rather like an oversized newborn – except for the fact that this baby doesn’t cry. Shouts a bit for attention, but doesn’t cry. I don’t know what that means. She’s so very placid.

    In any case, we see the Paeds again next week.

    [In other news, Amy doesn’t want to go to school, and is taking her temperature over and over again, in the hope that THIS TIME it will say that she’s too sick to go to school. She’s very grumpy that the thermometer is not cooperating.]