Ganked from jpallan. I guess really the purpose of this list is if you see someone on this list (or anyone else on LJ for that matter) that I actually know, or you think I should know, and you feel inclined to make introductions, here's your chance. :)
I tried out TrustFlow II for LiveJournal. The following people not on the friends list for waterowl are close by:

• danjite, beepbeep (100 - 150)
• rollotreadway (150 - 200)
• madlori, treemonster, porfinn (200 - 250)

( More results below the cut... )

Yesterday was our anniversary and we had a lovely day. Thanks to Parents Helping Parents, we got some free tickets to Disney on Ice:Finding Nemo. Special K loved the show. We thought it was okay. The ice skating especially for the jellyfish section was at times beautiful and for some reason I found myself moved when Nemo was reunited with his dad. Afterwards we stumbled across a crowded Vietnamese restaurant that served delicious soup.

C and were planning to go out on a romantic dinner, but our respite care worker called in with a cold. So instead all four of us went to dinner with friends. Little T hasn't been to a restaurant in ages. However I remembered we have a booster seat and Little T is gradually getting weaned off steroids, so he's less and less immuno-compromised and we would be in a large group in a large restaurant so away from crowds. Unfortunately Little T was too fat for his booster seat. And C was too busy dealing with both kids to enjoy himself. However I enjoyed myself.

I also got two lovely flower cards from two members of the List that also brightened my day.

I had a lovely time at Thursday dinner with my friends, and a lovely dinner with my family last night. Both buoyed my spirits, as did venting here. C and my mother both commented that I seemed more my cheerful self. However I've caught yet another cold, so I have a sore throat, slight cough, and feel pretty low energy and a bit hazy. When I climb the stairs, I feel out of breath. I'm not that out of shape. I'm just sick. Bleagh. But I still feel more cheerful than when I was healthy last week. Life just seems more manageable somehow, though nothing has materially changed. Maybe I'm just delirious. ;)

I want to write about my mother's trip to Burma, but I can't concentrate too well. Feel free to nudge me about if I forget after I'm feeling better.

I had a lovely time at owlmoose's Moose Day tea. owlmoose and her friends originally started Moose Day as the Friday after Thanksgiving and you always have a tea. I think it's a fine tradition. We celebrated a week early because anzubird and luvmoose were in town.

I also enjoyed hanging out at solomita's afterwards. Then we all went to Supenkuche and met C and my dad and ate hearty German food.

Afterward C, my dad and I saw Fidelio. I've heard Fidelio can be wonderful, but neither the singing nor the music of this performance moved me. C said "I can see why Beethoven only wrote one opera." That seems rather harsh to me, because this was just one performance.

Christine Brewer the heroine Leonore/Fidelio sang with neither the range nor the depth to make me believe she would die for her husband. She stood like a man throughout the entire show even after she had revealed she was a woman. In fact when she pulled off her cap to reveal short hair, I think it took the audience a little bit to realise "Oh, that's right she's a woman." I think the role calls for a bit more vulnerability that she portrayed. And certainly better acting. The best singer Thomas Moser as Florestan the prisoner convinced me how horrible prison life that even though his portly frame indicated that he was clearly well-fed. Unfortunately the singing of Juha Uusitalo who played Don Pizarro the villain of the opera lacked the power to creep me out and at times was drowned out by the orchestra. In fact at times it was rather pathetic, because portly Florestan was singing over Don Pizarro.

The staging did a great job of portraying a grim prison setting, but was otherwise awful. Fidelio and Florestan are supposed to drive off Don Pizarro, except the way it was staged, the two singers were left singing in the dungeon and the door was closed behind them. So instead of reveling in the moment that they're free, you're worrying that they're trapped in the dungeon. Then finally the stage changes and they're out in the sunlight. Phew! What a sigh of relief. The opera's almost over. Though the denouement was gorgeous and made me wish that the rest of the opera had been as good. Though I also had to admit it was also the most symphonic part of the entire opera.

We've seen all the operas for the fall season so we won't be going to the opera again until June.

Last night Special K, C and I went to our first party without Little T. He had to stay at home, because he's still immuno-compromised. We had a good sitter through the respite care agency. By odd coincincidence she has the same name as our wonderful teenage babysitter.

The party itself was lovely. Lots of friendly people. Good food. Lots of kids. One kid had the exact same hair as Little T, said "gah", and took the same delight into moving about as Little T. He was also about the same size as Little T. He's 10 months old, so I guess that means Little T is functionally about 10 months old. Watching him really made me miss Little T. We came home after 2 1/2 hours and Little T seemed happy to see us, but continued to play contentedly with the babysitter. What a relief!

The holiday season is upon us. So we'll attend more parties without Little T. I feel sad for him. He loves parties. But I count my blessings that he's still here, he's at home, we have time to go to parties, we have people who can babysit him so we can go to parties, and of course we have friends who have parties.

We went to Ikea and bought a small red desk. I love the absurdity of its ridiculous maraschino red. Ikea was celebrating its 20th birthday, so we also got birthday cake. And the icing on the cake matched the desk colours. Perfect.

My desk fits neatly in the alcove between the sofa and the kitchen table. And somehow I fit my writing in between all my other activities and it brightens my days. It has wheels, so theoretically I could wheel my computer around and write all around the house. qqqqqq122222222222222222223v Here Special K sat down and interjected her thoughts. That's one of the disadvantages of having this new ergonomic set up. My old chair was a bar stool. She still managed to climb up, but it was harder.

After Ikea we failed to go a friend's games party, which was sad, because Special K crashed and fell asleep. Though it turned out to be a good thing, because she's remained healthy...so far. (knock on wood)

The day after we went to a lovely fondue party that owlmoose blogged about. Unfortunately C was very tired and fell asleep, because Little T was up a lot....getting sick.

At the party I had a parent moment. You know one of those moments where a non-parent stares at you in utter bemusement. Little T urped all over himself and me. He was quite cheerful about it, so I just calmly set about changing him and trying to wipe myself down with a paper towel. I know before I had children, the thought would fill me with horror. But now it's the screaming I can't stand. And I know it can get a lot grosser and I was thankful it wasn't.

Unfortunately my gratitude was short-lived. We're now into day two of screaming and explosions from every orifice. My nanny is here. He's finally gone to sleep. And I'm thinking sweet cherry red thoughts. I'm also taking a couple days off from writing. My writing is back in the NICU days, and I start to worry too much about his illness, even though he just has a stomach bug. At least I hope so. Knock on sweet cherry red desk.

It's been an odd couple days

C's friend has calmed down, but nothing has fundamentally changed, so I feel the situation is only just waiting to explode again.

I read and critiqued a friend's novel that was wonderful, but also heart-wrenching.

I just joined a study that might actually help me with my dystonia. I'm scared to hope, but I can feel hope pressing against my chest.

Little T has started pulling up on everything. For weeks he would only lean up on the leather couch and haul himself up that way. He tried other places but couldn't quite do it and would cry at me to help. I tried to help and he'd scream at me more. On Tuesday Special K and I were doing puzzles on the coffee table, Little T had to pull and see. With huge effort, he pulled up all on his own. Now he pulls up as he never had any problems and he's working on cruising. All of this involves a lot of fussing and crying as he gets frustrated. He wants me to pick him up. I have a sprained ankle. I shouldn't pick up a 19lb boy especially one who's arching backwards. I relent more than I should. By about 6pm my patience has worn thin. C doesn't get home until 7:30. I try not to go crazy before then. Some days I succeed.

I got no writing done yesterday as I was so worn out with dealing with Little T that I slept through most of the time the respite care worker was here. C really doesn't understand how draining the constant crying is. Today I wrote about 300 words. I'm behind. I must borrow my quota from other days.

What I've been doing instead over the past couple days is to put together over 20 hours of music that makes me happy. We can play music on our Tivo, but without a playlist after a while, it mysteriously kicks back to Live TV. During the daytime that's a lot of bad tv. Now I have music for parties too. I feel a real sense of accomplishment. I made the playlist using MediaMonkey, which also makes me happy -- the name of the program that is.

I've started to use friends lock for a few things. So I trimmed my friends list down to mostly mutual/waterowl_feed friends. It also brings my friends list back down to 42 which pleases me. Of course I'm willing to add more LJ friends again. If you want to be my LJ friend, you can friend me and I'll friend you back. Or I guess you comment here about it. Of course LJ friend isn't the same as RL friend, so please don't take it personally.

Last night we went to a singing party with some friends where we sang songs, eat dinner and the kids ran around. I loved sitting with Little T on my lap and singing with him.

C says I'm depressed. He thinks I'm more sad about missing this writing workshop than I should be. I dunno. I always worry about missing opportunities. I don't really have a good way to evaluate what I really need right now.

What I do know is that I keep writing. My non-fiction book is up to 17,808 words. I'm behind on my 500 word count today, but I'm more than ahead from other days.

Both Special K and Little T are wearing one sock.

Seems like a good time to do this meme:

Name 10 small things for which you're grateful

1. My sprained ankle is slowly healing, so I can walk around the house now.
2. The top of Little T's shoulder is now normal and not tumor.
3. Special K is over her cold.
4. Little T can wear little boy pants
5. Eating ripe organic bananas
6. Special K shuts the door to the bathroom so Little T can't go exploring there.
   
7. A nice hot cup of tea
8. Little T has started to look at books on his own just like big sis Special K
9. C has been getting together with some old friends.
10. After several "web site is down", I can finally pay my American Express card bill online.
    

I hate tagging people, but please carry on the meme if you feel so moved.

It's a waning moon and very bad stuff is going down with a friend of C's. C is helping as best he can and he can't take the kids along. So I can't be gone for hours and hours next weekend. My ankle's slowly getting better, but not better enough to navigate the extensive walking needed for public transportation. I can't drive that far. It also turns out that none of the other participants is coming down from the peninsula, so I can't get a ride. Bottom line: I can't go to the writing workshop next week. I'm really bummed about it, but it wasn't meant to be right now. One bad thing happening, okay? But three things are coinciding to make this not happen. There will be other workshops. This is a fiction workshop. And my current obssession is my non-fiction book.

I could sort of it see it coming when I sprained my ankle. I figured that sweetie that he is, C would drive me if it came down it. But it just felt a chain of events had been set in motion. Don't get me wrong. I do believe in free will. But I also believe in chaos theory. I believe a butterfly's wing can change the pattern of the weather in the amazon three thousand miles away.

We had company over which was lovely. My friends had a nice lunch in my garden while the CCS social worker did her session with Little T inside. She showed me why Little T will pull up in certain places, but not others. It made perfect sense when she explained it, but I'd have to think about on my own. I don't think very well spatially.

I wrote 500 words today up to 15,325. I'm totally obssessed with my non-fiction book. But after having a good talk with Jenny last night, I know I'm in a down phase. I really hate spraining my ankle. Bad stuff from my childhood. I feel it's a moral failing. I'm literally and figuratively lame. It's okay to be disabled as long as I'm not limping around. It's okay to be disabled as long it's partially hidden. It's worse and better that my ankles are hyperflexible because of my disability. At least I know it's not just because I'm a total klutz.

I hate having to literally have to count each step I make. I started to tell her it was the writing that was killing me. Guilt about that coming out. But actually I was feeling pretty good before I sprained my ankle. I was getting stray projects done like getting rid of books. As she kept telling me, I was getting my groove back. It's hard to groove when you're lame.

But after I said some stuff that out loud to her and blogging more stuff here, I feel a bit more free. I don't want to pass on this crud on to Little T. I sprain my ankle about once a year. Last year I was 8 months pregnant with Little T, so it's a lot easier this time around. Maybe this time I'll do my exercises better or something and I'll avoid it for longer. But I just have to face up to the fact that at least for the foreseeable future, it's part of who I am. It's part of the me that jerks. It's part of me that can't drive on the highway. I just do the best I can with the body I've got.

Special K seems largely unaffected by my lameness. She can now dress herself, get her own food, go to the bathroom, and play. She does need some help, but it's not like last year where she was frustrated and hobbled by my injury. Little T is too young to care. He just wants to be picked up. But I'm asking for more help this time. Next year will be better too. Little T will be able to do more. Special K too. I'm not sure what it is about this time of year that causes ankle sprains. I'll have to think about that. Got any ideas?

On Friday Little T had his one year checkup. His ped was impressed by how far he's come. He now weighs 18lb 7oz, which puts him on the growth charts! My son's in the third percentile. I never thought I'd be proud to say those words. :) He's only 26.5 inches long, so still below the charts. But his head is still the 50th percentile at 18.25".

Little T delivers to a deadline and to an audience. On Saturday he pulled up for the first time in front of adoring fans at his party including his hematologist. He also actually waved for the first time too. He used to raise his right arm in the air once, then drop it back down. It was one wave. But not waves. Now he waves...sometimes.

We all really enjoyed his birthday party which had 20 people. We tried to keep the guest list down, but it keep ballooning. We're at the stage of life where you can't invite one person, because they often have an SO and child/ren. I used to have large parties where I invited everyone I knew, which was fun, but now I have to do mummy things as well as hostess things. And twenty was about all I could handle.

Or maybe it was the amount of unexpected drama. A friend showed up for literally about ten minutes to give me her news which included she was getting a divorce. Then Sonya and Roberta arrived late and Robert had a lot of cuts on his face. The poor things had gotten into a car accident on their way down here. No-one was seriously hurt, but the air bag had deployed in Robert's face and scratched him up pretty badly. We had two doctors at the party and tons of medical supplies. But it turned out that washing the cuts and applying antibiotic ointment was all that was necessary.

Sunday was much quieter. C and the kids went to the farmers' market as usual. C bought some moon cakes and we ate them in the light of the full moon for the Chinese Moon Festival. We'll prolly make it a family tradition every year.

Today was not a good day. It wasn't a bad day. A bad day on the Thida scale of bad days involves a trip to the ER or hospital. No, this was a day filled with mild annoyances and simple pleasures. It began with our nanny calling in sick, because she caught a cold from Little T.

We had a brief interlude of calm where we all snuggled on the bed. Then I realised that Little T's jumpsuit was in fact now jodphurs coming to knee length. He needs to go into twelve month clothes. I don't have even backup girly long sleeved 12 month stuff since Special K was in summer clothes at that point.

A kind friend had given me hand-me-down clothes sorted by size (bless her) for Little T. C had just shoved them into a trunk "to get them out of the way". They ranged in size from newborn to 4T. So this morning I could no longer put off going through the clothes to find something for Little T. It was either that, or a trip to Target. And my inate sense of cheapness forbade that. It turned out to be an expected pleasure as well as annoyance as my friend loves sailing and has a lot of cute nautical outfits. Plus it brought back memories of my friend. A favourite was going to see elephant seals with her and her family. Many of the outfits we couldn't use because they were too small and had to pulled over the head. Little T can't raise his left arm over his head. So I have a big stack of clothes to give away. I'll have to ask my friend what to do with them.

Just as I was done, I realised it was time for Special K's gynmastics. I hadn't left enough transition time for Special K. So it was "Just five more minutes" from Special K and fuss and worry from me, but somehow we managed to make it to gym on time. And Special K had a lovely time at gymnastics with Sylvia and Josie. Little T babbled and babbled and watched everything intently. He also smiled and flirted with everyone who passed by.

Then we went shopping at Toys R Us and Trader Joe's and Special K peed in the car seat, which was incredibly messy and smelly. Both kids were very good otherwise, but it was filled with petty annoyances like someone stopped abruptly in front of me in the parking lot. Maybe that's when Special K peed. And somehow it took hours. Though we started at 11:30, we didn't get home until 3.

And even though Little T had not had any food all day except a tiny bit of banana and a little bit of cereal, he refused to drink anything when we got back. So I gave him a bolus feed of 4oz down the tube.

As I was unhooking him, I stepped on the pump pole leg and cut my foot. But perhaps my blood sacrifice was not in vain. So far he's managed to keep it down, though he's had the dry heaves a few times. We took him off Prilosec for the PH probe and he actually seems to vomit less, so we've kept him off it.

I forgot to mention yesterday that he gained a little weight up to 8125 g and grew 67.3 cm. It's good that he's still growing, but he's not catching up. He's just maintaining a curve and the curve is still below the 3rd percentile. I don't care so much about that. What I do care about is that he's losing a lot of his baby fat and a year is a little young for that. So I see more bolus feeds in his future. We go to GI clinic on Monday, and we'll investigate more why my boy has no appetite. And for some reason, this reminds me of the Silly Sisters Song "My husband has no courage in him". I feel a filk coming on.

On Sunday we went to a birthday party for twins that were born on the same day as Little T. It was the first time in a long time that we had a party on blankets where all the children were on blankets, except Special K and the older sibling and another child who arrived to wait the birth of his younger sibling. Little T had a fabulous time smiling and "talking" to the other babies and banging his hand against the blankets.

We put him on the ground with the twins' nursing pillow in case he fell over and both twins crawled over to him. He said "hi". It does literally sound like hi. I guess that counts as his one word. It would have been interesting to see what happened next. Unfortunately both twins started crying, so they had to be removed. Ahh, well.

Yesterday I took both kids to Storytime Monday. Last time it was an unqualified disaster as my nanny (not the one I have now) fell asleep and Little T hated it. This time Little T enjoyed listening to the story. He also enjoyed grabbing the socks of another almost 1 year old and trying to grab the parachute. Special K love running around with her friends. We'll definitely try to go again next week.

I feel bad, because a year has slipped by and Little T has no friends his own age, and I didn't even really notice the lack. Special K already had several friends. Some child experts say children can't make friends at this age. yada yada. Nonesense, I say. You only have to see how Special K used to light up when she saw her friends, still does in fact and how they would crawl up to each other. I'm not really sure how or when I'd have made these friends for Little T, especially since for large parts of the year, he couldn't be in contact with other babies and seeing healthy babies filled me with envy, so it's not really that. And I suppose that's it. I guess I did think about it fleetingly back at the beginning, but I realised it wasn't possible. I do have this capacity to simply put things out of my mind, which is different from letting go, which I'm bad at. But we'll see if I can move making friends for Little T on my long to-do list for him next year.

I didn't know that my friend Ned Spofford was over 70. He writes poetry.

I also forgot to mention that I got my start on my emergency supply kit from Arnold Schwarzenegger and Safeway. Back in the summer, Safeway was offering subsidised kits under the auspices of the Red Cross. The kit was in a red backpack with a list of suggested additional supplies and photo of Maria Shriver. After all, it'd be good to see her face in an emergency.

Age prejudice 'ubiquitous in UK' - I was particularly struck by the quote "One key point is that a half of all people under the age of 24 have no friends over 70, and vice versa. And the data shows that those without intergenerational friendships are also more likely to hold negative beliefs about the competence of people over 70." Do you have any friends over the age of 70? I used to, but sadly they all died. Time to make some new friends.

I'm so excited I can hear Anne Lamott speak at the CAR Luncheon. A friend is on the Book Committe that chooses the speakers, so will get me a seat. I missed last year's because Little T was back in the hospital again. I really really really hope I can go this year. I'll be bouncing to my haircut just thinking about it.

Anne Lamott wrote Bird By Bird, which has been an inspiration to me as a writer. I have no idea why no-one shoved this book into my shaking hands when I expressed doubt in my writing ability, but consider this a virtual shoving. I wish I'd taken one of her classes at the UC Berkeley Extension. Ah, well.

I had a friend in college who used to say "Stop the world! I want to get off!" I don't exactly feel that way, but my brain is definitely overloaded.

I just forgot one of Little's T apts. He has a lot of apts, but forgetting one totally is a first for me. I've had some near misses when I remembered minutes before the apt, but never total amnesia before. I'm quite embarassed. I also recognise in some way my brain is overloaded with info, so some of it fell out. Most of them are really good things, but I have a background anxiety that I could get personal bad news. Little T's relapse happened just after we had a joyous Xmas.

So here's a partial brain dump of what's on my mind:

• Potty training Special K - I have a background process, as a geeky ex-boyfriend would say, that tracks when Special K last peed, so we can avoid accidents. Though lately she asks "Can I have a diaper?" I put her on the potty and she performs.



• My brother's wedding on Labour Day - I'm a bridesmaid. I've never been a bridesmaid before. I've never had a good female friend get married with bridesmaids who are friends. I tend to make friends with either folks who are already married, have tons of sisters, or she and/or her SO aren't the marrying kind. I'm worried I'll forget something or somehow inadvertently offend someone.
  
  My dad called me many times over the past couple days about his wedding speech. I did give it some thought since my dad gave a wonderful speech at my wedding. But all I could think of was "Don't say anything embarrassing. Say nice specific things and anecedotes about my brother and his fiancee and what they bring to each other." C had a much better tip "Tell how [the fiancee] became part of the family."



• My children's book - Things are really coming along and I'm really excited about it and the responses I've been getting. But I got a comment that led me to revise it a tiny bit again. So I need to think about it again. I'm almost ready to submit it.



• Little T's eating - He should get more food in him over a longer period of time. He's okay for now, but he's getting bigger and therefore needs more food and we've reached the limit of what he can tolerate at night. So today I started giving him bolus feeds while he sleeps during the day. It's not yet a habit, so I need to keep thinking about it.



• Little T's yeast infection on his arm - I need to track how often it's aired v.s. wrapped.



• My finger - My left ring finger's still in a splint from when I thwacked it against myself. I can't really write. I also need to remember not to wash my entire left hand, but instead the non-splinted fingers. I do go to the doctor and the doctor said I bruised the bone, but to get an x-ray just in case. The x-ray was normal.



• Job ping - Out of the blue, I got a job ping that might interest me. I have a phone interview on Friday. It raises all sorts of questions I don't know how to answer yet. We'll see how it goes.



• SEP aka Someone Else's Problems - A few of my friends have serious problems right now. Unfortunately there's not a lot I can do for any of them, but they percolate in the back of my mind.

My friend owlmoose blogged about our tea tasting yesterday. I really love drinking tea. In the US, some folks sit down to relax with a beer or glass of wine, I sit down with a nice cup of tea. I've discussed most important conversations with my relatives over tea. I can't help it. Both the Burmese and English sides combine to view tea in pretty much the same way. I'm privileged to have friends who do. It's lovely.

My husband C. doesn't really get it. Sure he drinks tea with every morning, but he says it's because he can't be fished to make coffee as well. Coffee is a different beverage. Nothing wrong with it, but few describe coffee as relaxing.

In France, the tea houses were ferments of dissident views. The Americans used to get it. They rioted over tea in the Boston Tea party. I just read that Emma Larkin in her book Finding George Orwell in Burma saw spies listening in Burmese tea houses. I'm no Burmese dissident, but...well this is a public site, which anyone can read, so draw your own conclusions.

I've been feeling this sadness for the past couple days. I woke up last night with this sad weight on my chest. Maybe it's partly hormones. I'm having my period right now. Or the fact that I went on a hike last night. Part of it was going to my hs reunion and not talking about Little T at all. It was a conscious decision. It's not something that I want to share with people I'll prolly not see again for years. But perhaps the unsaid words pressed down on me.

Maybe it was that during the hike we shared memories of the past 3 years to celebrate Jenny's birthday. And unfortunately my most clear memories are of the past year and many of them are bittersweet. I should be saying it was a lovely party in which we hiked up a hill, watched the sunset and chatted. We got a bit lost on the way down and were back way after closing time, but the ranger waited around for us, and only ticketed one of our cars. And the party wasn't about me. And I did feel happy for Jenny, but the party also forcibly reminded me that the past year has been very difficult.

Maybe it's just that now I have the luxury of feeling sad. Little T's slowly getting better. We're starting to think about vacations now that we've managed a weekend away. I guess it's a pattern. I just can't feel sad when things are going badly, it detracts from what I need to do. So I feel sad later. I'm trying to remember that and just let myself feel sad instead of telling myself I should be writing or doing other useful things. And then I read back in my blog that the last time I felt really sad was July 1. I guess it's okay to feel sad, because Little T still doesn't eat and has some kind of swallowing problem, not to mention his non-functional arm. It's still a long road to get to healthy. Maybe we'll never get there. I never had a dream I'd have a normal child, but healthy yes. Doesn't every parent? I'll give myself a few days. Thanks for reading.