Discard and Renew

Be ruthless, be ruthless, be ruthless. 

That's what any home organizing expert will tell you about reducing the things in your home. Haven't worn it in a year? Out. Have a box and have no idea what's in it? Out. Sentiment? Only to be doled out in minuscule bits. 

I never have a problem with this. In fact, I actually feel glee when throwing things away. Clutter drives me mad, quite literally, and with fewer possessions, I think and feel and live more clearly.  Unfortunately, my husband does not have this same outlook. I'm pretty sure he doesn't "see" clutter. Unchecked, he would most likely inhabit a space resembling Hoarders in a few years.  However, one of the things I'm trying really hard to learn is that I only have control over myself. I can't change him. I can suggest and explain why things matter to me, but I can't force him to do anything. That's somewhere we shouldn't be ruthless.

A friend of mine once said to me, "But everyone needs to have respect for their living space, for how they live." And I agree with her, but everyone is raised with a different idea of what that means. Right now, what it means for me is that I need to maintain control over what I can so that it doesn't all feel out of control. So last week I tackled my half of our closet. It had gotten to a point where I was having a hard time finding things to wear to work because so many items didn't fit or were out of season, so I knew it was time for an overhaul.

And I was right! I took two large trash bags of clothes to the donation bin and threw two trash bags of clothes (too worn out, threadbare, etc) out. It felt GREAT. My drawers are no long bulging. I can wear a lot of what's in my closet. I can find what I want to wear. 

The hard part, for me, is parting with clothes that still feel like part of who I hoped to become. It's difficult to be ruthless with your past hopes. I donated a beautiful, delicate, lacy, ivory-colored over-shirt that I will never fit into again and that I'd have a hard time fitting into my life (Nate would probably snag something on it or stain it before I got out the door). So away it went - but I clearly remembered the day I bought it and the vision I had of myself then, of who I was becoming.

So many of the clothes I got rid of are from that time-frame, when I was thinner, in my first year of grad school, not married (or even engaged), hopeful for the professional life that seemed to be unfurling before me.  That road has yet to unfurl. Some days it actually feels like someone tore up all the pavement and I'm having to find my way through the undergrowth. So, yeah, who I was then is gone. There was a naive hope that has been consummately squashed since then.

As I packed those clothes away and sort of mourned the hopefulness of that time and felt foolish about my naivete, I had a funny thought: this is why Doctor Who works. Well, it's one of many, many reasons Doctor Who works.  In some way, we all feel like the Doctor. We are different incarnations of ourselves, with different costumes to match, as we go through life's battles. We even have different companions at different stages (although I certainly hope they meet better ends than most of the Doctor's do).

We all have to say goodbye to dreams unfulfilled or hopes dashed, but it's like clearing the closet: it makes room for the new hopes and dreams. Rather than dwell on what didn't come to pass, why not start thinking about what can still happen. 

The Contrary Hour and Colorful Language

Monday, after 4pm: 

Nate: Mommy, I want to go home. (We were at the store.) I want to go home and open my juice and eat dinner. I no want to be at the store anymore. 

As we drive down our block, almost home: NO! I no want to go home! I stay in the car! You go inside. 

Me: I can't leave you in the car alone, the police will take you away from me. 

Nate: Then you come get me at the police office. 

Me: No, they won't let me come get you. 

Nate: Dada come get me. 

Me: No, they won't give you to Dada either because we left you in the car and that's not good. 

Nate. I go inside. You stay in the car and the police come get you. 

Me: But then who will make your dinner?

Nate: I make it myself. I make macaroni and cheese soup. 

Tuesday, after 4pm

Nate (waking up from his nap): Dada, I need milk. 

After getting milk: NO! I full. I not want milk. I don't want ANYTHING. *gets back in bed and pulls blanket over his head* 

Oyyyyy. Nate never really had a "witching hour" as a baby. He had his moments, for sure, but never a reliable time of day that he became difficult. This week seems to be changing all of that. 

I stopped by my parents' house on Sunday and even they noted how different he was than just a few weeks ago. "Very, very three" as my mom put it. 

He has also added some lovely new words to his vocabulary. In the past week, when he had a potty accident, he has started using the F word: "Fuuuuu**! Fuuuu**!" and also the charming, "F'ing shi*!" 

Awesome. We have traced the source of this learning and kindly asked that they refrain from this language but I'm not counting on it. I don't want to do the whole bad words/good words thing because, really, they're not "bad" words. They're just inappropriate at times (like before age 18).  So I'm trying to teach him that they're words only grown-ups use, but I don't know if that'll work. I have to do something, though, before he gains even more colorful language (I dread to even imagine what would be next).

Fault Lines

When I was in high school, I spent my summers as a camp counselor at our town's recreation department summer day camp. The summer I was 14, I was a CIT (counselor-in-training) and I think I earned a whopping $500, which I spent on my first stereo (WITH CD player, oooh). The following two summers, I was a full counselor and my days were spent making lanyard bracelets, playing with water balloons, going to Sesame Place, and other relatively pleasant summer activities. 

But just like a standard summer camp horror film, there was an undercurrent to this idyllic scene (although nothing horrifying). The other counselors were all kids who were relatively popular in my high school, kids who wouldn't talk to me or even look at me outside of camp (confirmed once the school year started up again). So I spend my summers enjoying the false security of belonging, able to pretend that I fit in. 

But I didn't fit. I didn't know the music they knew, I didn't hang out at the places they did (i.e. I didn't hang out anywhere but my house), I didn't attend the parties they talked about (i.e. I didn't attend any parties), and I didn't have the clothes they did. As counselors, we all had to wear the same shirt (recreation department issues) but shorts and sneakers were up to us. I'm sure my clothes were passable but I couldn't wear the same brands because, as a plus-size teen, they weren't available in my size.  

As a part of this job, we were reviewed at the end of the camp season by one of the senior counselors. My first year, that senior counselor was a girl who had been the lead in our high school play that year (Charlotte's Web ) and was disarmingly beautiful. She had the movements of a dancer and glided, not walked, across the playground. She was also a kind person and one who I never worried was saying anything mean about me behind my back.

I remember that my review, overall, was good, though I don't remember many details. In fact, I remember one thing: my lowest score, of course. (We always remember the worst, right?) For appearance, I scored on the low end of acceptable and the Sr. Counselor had written in a note: 

"Shouldn't be held against her. Not her fault."

Because, of course, I was fat. I couldn't tuck my shirt in like everyone else. My shorts weren't crisp. I looked lumpy. So, my appearance score was low (womp, womp) but (!) it wasn't my fault! Hurrah? 

That note was written 23 years ago, but it popped into my head today as I was grading one of my students' final exams. She is an ELL (English Language Learner) student and since my class is Reading (not Writing), I was noting that her grade on the final didn't take grammar into account, but that it must be noted that her grammar needs significant development.

I wrote that and immediately flashed back to August 1990 and how uncomfortable I felt all summer. How I went home and spent hours daydreaming that someday, I'd be popular, have friends, go to parties - but, mainly, feel confident in myself and not self-conscious every single moment of every single day. 

I still need significant development. If it is somehow possible to be confident yet still self-conscious, then that's me. I guess, maybe, I am confident in who I am but don't like who that is a lot of the time. 

How do we know what we need to be held accountable for? How do we know what is or isn't our fault? How am I 37 years old and still don't know this? 

In my head, I am still fifteen, peering through the blinds, watching the kids pile into the house across the street, the house with the big pool. Fifteen, cracking my window open, trying to overhear bits of conversation, desperate for any details as to how the other half lived. 

Since many of us still live in the same area, I see them around and a lot of those differences have melted away. We all work, some have families. We have conversations about raising children and events in town. We've all melded into adulthood but I wonder where those struggles to become us are supposed to go. Some of my students work so hard to fit in, others work so hard to try and succeed. Some do nothing in either direction and just drift along with an easy smile. 

I have spent today writing criticism on exams (along with compliments and advice) and while I am sure of what I am writing, I know I am still unsure in so many other ways. I cracked a smile at myself, writing in my authoritative voice while still eavesdropping. 

Memorial Day Potty

What, Memorial Day was last week? Pshawww... There is no time limit on talking about today's very important subject: potty training.

(To people uninterested in potty training: I apologize. Feel free to move on and return next time for a non-potty post, I promise.) 

I promised myself I wouldn't be a potty-training talking parent. To each their own, but I am personally not a fan of potty training updates on Facebook. I do not need to know that Brian or Susie did pee-pee in the potty. I just don't. And I certainly, certainly , do not need to know anymore MORE than that. (You know what I'm talking about.)

However, if you are a parent, approaching the potty training process (especially for the first time, I assume), can be terrifying and I have always appreciated discussions of the process with as little child humiliation involved as possible. Because, really, aren't we all glad our parents didn't have Facebook and blogs and write about our bathroom learning process? I know I am. 

We've been talking about the potty with Nate for a long time and he's had a potty in our bathroom since September***, but he really only used it before baths. But he's three now, has really good speaking and reasoning skills, and I knew he was physically ready (able to hold it for long periods) - so off we went, into potty land.

Note: there is nothing cuter than little boy briefs. I quite literally cannot bear the cuteness sometimes.

I bought him some new underwear (he had some that we had talked about a lot but he had already outgrown it), some training underwear for naptime (it's a little bit absorbent and lined) , and lots of good snacks and beverages for the weekend. My plan was to also use the training pants for nighttime but, to be honest, I chickened out and kept using diapers for overnight.

I also bought prizes. I know a lot of people use food as a potty reward, but with the weight and food issues in my family I just can't bring myself to use food as a reward for anything. So, I went with Nate's favorite things: stickers and cars. Every time he did #1 in the potty, he would get to put a sticker on his sticker poster:  

Potty Poster

Those are Nate's stickers from Day 1! Lots of #1 on Day 1. He had a couple of accidents, but very quickly caught on to what he was supposed to be doing. By Day 2, he had fewer accidents and made it to the potty with dry underwear over half the time. I was (am) super proud of him.

The toy cars were for #2 in the potty. I knew that would be more difficult, but I hoped it wouldn't be a battle. I know some parents for whom that part of the process continued to be difficult for a long time (months! a year!). I'm happy to say that a week out now, it seems like Nate pretty much has the hang of it. I don't expect that we'll be accident free forever, but he's doing amazingly well. (Again, sparing future Nate the details of that process here. Nobody needs #2 details written down.) I will add this: I bought a five-pack of Matchbox cars for his #2 prizes. He received the last of them yesterday, so... it took 11 days to earn the five cars. You can figure out the hit/miss percentage. Yesterday's prize was for going in the potty at Grandma's house, which I think is a really big deal. 

I'm still putting a diaper on him at night, but it's been dry every single morning  of the past week and something like 10 out of 12 mornings since we started. He has also woken up dry from his nap since Day 1. That first day he didn't make it to the potty in time after his nap, but he has every day since. I'm ready to move him to regular underwear for naps and the training pants for night (juuuuust in case) but I already told him we'd finish out the diapers we have. We have nine left, so I'm thinking perhaps I will go throw five or six out to hasten this process a little.

The potty training process has been the #1 thing I have dreaded in parenting, but I'm super relieved that it's gone this well. After Nate went to bed the first day I texted my sister and summed the day up and asked, "Is he doing okay? Bad? I have no idea." Because, really, it's hard to have your own perspective if you've never done this before. (This, I think, is why people post about potty training on FB And Twitter; they want community feedback.) I was so relieved when my sister texted back, "That's not good, it's GREAT! He's doing AWESOME! He'll be done before summer!" I think I flopped on my bed in a mix of exhaustion and relief.

I believe the key was waiting until Nate was ready physically, emotionally, and mentally. He's also a very laid-back kid (always has been) so I didn't anticipate any of the "NO! I don't WANNA use the potty!" objections I've heard about from other parents. As with all other transitions - bottle to sippy cup, crib to bed, high chair to chair - he just went with the flow. Mainly, again, because he was ready. 

Here's what did and didn't work for us: 

Didn't Work 

• Telling Nate to keep the characters on his underwear dry.  He couldn't have cared less if Mater or Mickey were dry. He knew that pee went in the potty and didn't need any other reasoning.
• Getting frustrated or upset. We stuck really, really strongly to just saying, "Oops!" when he had an accident. Any little hint of being upset or annoyed and Nate's face immediately registered shame, which is counterproductive in this process. Was I exhausted at the end of the night those first few days? Sure. But I kept a positive attitude and smile for his sake.  (See: Did Work)
• Trusting Nate when we knew he had to go but said he didn't. Parents, you quickly learn your child's signals or times they'll have to go. If they refuse, pick them up and put them on the potty (See: Did Work). Otherwise, get the Swiffer.

Did Work 

• Waiting until he was ready. This was the most crucial part (and, I think, particularly important with boys who, anecdotally, seem to have a more difficult time with this process). 
• Being attentive. Do not leave your child's side the first couple of days. I think that is crucial. On Day 3, I loosened the slack there a little and we did okay, but you have to play it by ear.
• Using what he loved as rewards (stickers and toy cars) and not being uptight about it. If he wanted two stickers, fine. If he wanted two for the poster and three for his shirt, he got it. By the fourth or fifth day, he was putting stickers on his bare chest (my little frat boy), but I didn't care. It was his hard work and his reward. 
• Acting a darn, overjoyous fool when he got it right. Lots of cheering and clapping and constantly telling him how proud of I am of him and what a "big kid" he is now. ("Big boy" wouldn't work because he's been that since he moved to his "big boy bed" at 22 months so I used "big kid.") 
• Physically putting Nate on the potty when he refused even though we knew he had to go (See: Didn't Work). I struggled with this one because I didn't want to force him to do anything and wanted him to learn the feeling of having to go, but I also recognized that sometimes he was just having too much fun playing to go. He needed to deal with the fact that big kids take play breaks for potty time. We're still working on that, but I know he understands, even if he refuses sometimes.
• A positive attitude. Nate has been hung up on the word "proud" for months now, so I knew telling him we were proud of him would work (and it did). We also (as stated above) stuck to "Oops/Oopsie" when he had an accident and never said, "It's okay." It's not okay, but it also isn't the end of the world.
• Having support. It would be really hard to do this alone. If FB or Twitter are your only support, then go for it. I only texted my sister and Tom (when he was at work, otherwise he was home helping) and held off on writing my parents a big, glowing email until Day 3. I know no one's as excited about his progress as I am, but you do need a sounding board and someone to cheer you on and say you're all doing a great job (and to be honest if maybe you need to do something differently). I also told the people who watch Nate while we're at work (my MIL and our babysitter) that we would be potty training that weekend, so next week his routine would be different. They were on board; they had to be for it to work. Nate's first day at my in-law's was a disaster, but then we brought a potty there for him and it's been increasingly great since.

I think a lot of the potty process simply comes down to knowing your child, what sort of behavior they respond to, and realizing when they're ready. I am relieved that we are where we are at almost two weeks into the process and I'm really so very proud of my little man. He never ceases to amaze me.

***I went back and read the post where Nate started asking for a potty  and the change in his language skills from September to now totally blew me away. Obviously I know he's progressed a lot, but just seeing how only 9 months ago he was saying, "Nate a potty please?" while now he would say, "I want a potty, please" really made me marvel at how quickly they grow. 

Graduated Graduations

Eight years ago at this time, I was a recent NYU graduate, having received my B.A. in creative writing on May 12, 2005.

Five years ago at this time, I was a recent Rutgers graduate, having received my M.A. in English (I didn't attend the graduation).

Tonight, I am about 12 hours away from pretending to receive my EdM (Master of Education) in English Education at Teachers College, Columbia University.

It's funny, I always thought nothing would compare to my NYU graduation. It was such a perfect day. The ceremony took place in Washington Square Park, which was covered in purple tulips (NYU's color, violet). It was due to rain but ended up being a beautiful day. (As one of my coworkers said, "It never rains on NYU.") It was most momentous, though, because I worked really hard to get there. I spent seven years as an undergrad, taking time off in the middle and switching schools (I had started at Muhlenberg College, a small liberal arts school in PA).

I was proud of myself that day, something I rarely feel or admit. I felt accomplished. I finally had something I felt like everyone else had, something I thought I should have had earned years earlier.

For my M.A., everything felt about right. I worked hard but I felt recognized for it. I had a trip to Ireland around the corner and just didn't see a reason to make time for graduation when I was preparing for that trip and looking for a job.

This time, I don't know if I'll ever have another graduation. I might be done with my education now. I might not. I don't know. But why miss the chance to walk for an advanced degree, especially at a school I'm proud to have attended. It still seems, though, that my NYU graduation will remain the most fondly remembered.

There's a bit of shine off the day due to my unfinished thesis and the fact that while I'll still be class of 2013, it'll be October, not May. I'm a bit angry that this whole situation has tarnished my Teachers College experience. Up until this, I loved everything about my experience there and now I feel like I might never feel the same wearing the sweatshirt again. I'm hoping this is just temporary and once I finish my thesis, I will feel accomplished again and the walk I take tomorrow will feel like it fits.

Helloooo from way over here...

Oh, lordy. It's been weeks! Weeks!! I changed hosts for the blog (since I had been wanting to drop my previous to-be-unnamed host for quite a while) and then couldn't figure out how to get the new host to point to Squarespace and my domain. Womp womp.

I also didn't have time to call my new host and get some help until today - almost THREE WEEKS after the switch over. Oy. These past three weeks have been a humdinger, and we'll have to catch up and all, but right now I am just so overjoyed to be able to write this post. I've been on Twitter and Instagram, of course, but it's just not the same as writing. Man, have I missed writing.

Not that I haven't been doing any writing. Oh, no. I turned in a 52 page thesis in order to finish my EdM (Master of Education in English Education). However - plot twist - I found out Monday night at 7:30pm that it needs significant revision and I will not officially graduate next week as planned. I do get to walk at graduation (thankfully, since I already purchased my regalia) but my degree will be issued in October and I have to pay a graduation re-filing fee.

Sigh. Because of course.

I was feeling so, so good up until 7:29pm on Monday. I was done with this degree and with school for the foreseeable future. I'm burnt out and tired of reading scholarly articles and conducting research. I was ready for a fun summer with Nate and not feeling like I'm barely getting by at work because my mind is on school. But, no. Not yet, anyway.

But at least the blog is back up. I have a zillion photos from my photo-a-day project. Plus, Nate turned three last week (three!!!). So there is so much to discuss and ponder.

Welcome back, blog. You've been missed.

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My Life by iPhone - Days 59 - 94

Really? I didn't post at all for the month of March? Oy, life. So here's what was going on...

Day 59 - Eating an ice cream sandwich in bed. We all do this, right?

Day 60 - Kayaks outside the mall. It seemed hopeful spring would be arriving soon, but as we know now, that was so not the case.

Day 61 - Dinner at the new Steak and Shake near us. It was yummy!

Day 62 - My sister's kids sit on the counter all the time, but I don't do it with Nate much because he won't think anything of trying to get down on his own.

Day 63 - My new Casetegram case. Makes me happy.

Day 64 - An insanely late night at work. That's my car, all alone in the parking lot.

Day 65 - Geese trying to enroll in school?

Day 66 - Nate walking around Trader Joe's (a rarity - he is usually confined to a cart).

Day 67 - Snow. Again. Winter, you're drunk. Go home.

Day 68 - Nate's first trip to Starbucks. He loved it.

Day 69 - Stained recipe book pages mean love.

Day 70 - Coffee at the car dealership.

Day 71 - Sometimes Blue and George are my co-pilots.

Day 72 - Beautiful Day

Day 73 - Blue took the wheel alone this day.

Day 74 - Reading in bed late at night with a beer. Total relaxation.

Day 75 - Nate catching snowflakes on his tongue. (MORE snow! Augh!)

Day 76 - Tom and I went out to dinner on St. Patrick's Day. I ordered a beer, but I didn't order a green one. That they did on their own.

Day 77 - My new TARDIS pen/pencil pouch. :-D

Day 78 - Nate jumping through the dribs of snow outside. (MORE SNOW?!)

Day 79 - A Bear in Underwear doll I found. Nate loves the books but this bear was a little overpriced.

Day 80 - This creepy vulture or something was right by my work. Eep.

Day 81 - I got a haircut and highlights!

Day 82 - Nate and I had a breakfast date.

Day 83 - We bought new leashes for the dogs but Nate wanted me to wear it and then walked me around the house.

Day 84 - Nate was not thrilled to meet the Easter bunny.

Day 85 - I thought those were stuffed animals, but they were two real dogs in the back window of that car.

Day 86 - Cleaning week at work.

Day 87 - Nate likes a chair on the couch.

Day 88 - They yanked the hard drive out of my computer at work and put it in a new tower.

Day 89 - This dog loves laying in the sun.

Day 90 - Easter! One of Nate's gifts was an Angry Birds hooded towel :)

Day 91 - Wearing sequined TOMS.

Day 92 - Whole wheat, flax, wheat germ, banana waffles made by Nate and me.

Day 93 - Nate's bedtime companions.

Day 94 - This truck was being towed in front of me and it was really weird to drive facing the front of a tractor trailer.

So, yeah, just a lot of daily life going on. But I like making sure I take a picture every day and save it somewhere to remember all the moments I might otherwise forget.

Penguin Book Adventures

A few weeks ago, I received an email from an author, Melissa Guion, saying she found my site because she wrote a children's book about penguins and found "Bookish Penguin" in her Google travels. As it then turns out, we have a lot in common (not the least of which is the fact that she's a former north Jersey resident) so she sent me a copy of her book, Baby Penguins Everywhere, for Nate.

This book is completely adorable. It's about a penguin who is kind of lonely, but then finds a baby penguin... and another... and another... until there are baby penguins everywhere and the mommy penguin just wants some time to herself.

When I first read this with Nate I thought, "I hear ya, sister!" but then I thought: this is a really smart thing to write a children's book about. There are times that mommy penguins do need some time to themselves and this book could help explain that to little ones. Really brilliant and sensitive.

So when I checked out all of Melissa's info (I follow her on Twitter now) and realized she would be doing a reading near me, I had to take Nate. I had significant trepidations, though -- if you can believe it, this was to be Nate's first public reading. I know, seems unlikely, but for my little doesn't-like-to-sit-down, prefers-to-run-and-explore little man, sitting for the reading of a whole book in an interesting public place just hasn't been possible. (He sits wonderfully for three or four books in a row at home and "reads" on his own, too.)

So with great hopes, off we went to Watchung Booksellers... and had a GREAT time! We were there early (because I can't not be early) and this gave Nate some time to explore the children's section of the bookstore before he was expected to sit still for a while. He got really antsy, but Melissa was really great at engaging the children and really bringing the story to life. She then showed the children how she draws penguins. The super amazing part about this is that when we went home, Nate was actually imitating what she showed them and drawing pseudo-penguins on his MagnaDoodle. It was really amazing to see. He had really been engaged in and listening to Melissa during and after the reading.

A reporter from the Montclair Patch was there to cover the reading. You can see Nate and I (and Curious George!) at the reading here. (The picture was taken before the reading when Nate was kind of antsy and getting frustrated, so he's flopping over and looks a little disgruntled.)

Melissa's book continues to be in our bedtime reading rotation, along with two other books we purchased at Watchung Booksellers that day: Dragons Love Tacos and Kate and Nate are Running Late. (Come on, how can I not buy a "Nate" book, right?)

I'm so glad Melissa stumbled across my blog and we connected and this led to Nate's first reading. I can't wait to take him to more readings and for Melissa to write new books.

My Life by iPhone - Days 50 - 58

Today is one of those days where I wish I could talk about finding joy in small things... but really I just wanted to smash things. Sigh. That said, I didn't have to work late tonight (I usually do) so I had some extra time with Nate. He's a bit crazy in the evenings, way too full of energy and a non-stop whirling dervish, but that's still better than everything else I had to deal with today that made my eyeballs ache by 2pm.

It's been a week of ups and downs, times of overly-busy-ness, times of hopeful thinking, and times of fun.

Day 50 - Blogging about the overturned emotional apple cart. Tough day, no other photos.

Day 51 - Nate loves to eat whole apples now. It's really funny because it takes him so long to eat it and he drips apple juice all over the house (okay, that part's not funny). This day it was the first thing he wanted when he woke up, hence the crazy hair.

Day 52 - Led a workshop at work about writing research papers, provided snacks that later became my lunch. (I could very happily eat cheese and crackers for lunch every day.)

Day 53 - Nate helped me drag the garbage cans to the curb for garbage day.

Day 54 - I took Nate for a haircut and then out to breakfast. I love the faux-hawk they give him now. He loves the strawberry banana orange juice he only gets on these special occasions.

Day 55 - Nate wanted to hold my hand while we watched TV. I might have cried. I might be tearing up now just thinking about it. I love those little hands.

Day 56 - Nate doing a "naked bunny hop" wrapped in his Thomas towel after his bath. Kid loves bathtime, what can I say.

Day 57 - Out to dinner at Chipotle with my two favorite guys.

Day 58 - This Ford Explorer said "Exprlore" instead. Yeah, I don't know. Crazy day today and it's the only thing I stopped to take a picture of.

I am now counting the hours until the weekend!

The real cost of miscarriage

Yesterday I got a letter from my FSA company that recent charges needed backup paperwork "to determine if they are eligible for health care expenses." I looked down to see what the expense was and it was my $150 copay to the hospital emergency room the night of my miscarriage.

Having worked in benefits for almost 10 years, I don't usually blink at stuff like this. I wanted to be annoyed, but to the FSA company's credit, the expense is just to "X Medical" with no details. Fair enough. Annoying and something I really didn't want to be forced to think about again, but fair enough.

Tom printed out the EOB (explanation of benefits for you folks who didn't spend a decade in benefits) so I could scan it at work and upload it on the FSA website. I hadn't thought much of the medical details of the evening, so they took me a bit by surprise:

Radiology: $165
Radiology: $140 (I had two ultrasounds)
OP Misc Services: $2,632.34
Total: $2,937.34

Nearly three grand to tell me what I already knew was happening (though I do not regret going to make sure nothing worse was happening). $2600 to sit in the emergency room. No meds dispensed or anything. Bloodwork was run, so that's part of it... but still. Expensive.

And here, because I can't help myself, I have to say something about insurance. I'm going to assume you know all know how in-network benefits work and that by being in-network, a provider agrees to reduced fees. But I'm not sure everyone understands just how much that reduction is.

Ultrasound 1: $165 (charged) - 106.16 (discount) = $58.84 paid by plan
Ultrasound 2: $140 - $89.77 = $50.23
OP Misc: $2632.34 - $2432.34 = $50

Total charged: $2937.34
Total paid by plan: $159.07

So, I basically paid the same amount that my insurance company did. We both paid about 5% of the total bill. However, if I was unemployed and without insurance, I'd have to pay the total $2937.34. How in any sane world does that make sense? (Hint: it doesn't.) I can't imagine having to go through this and then also having to worry about where I would get $3000 from. (I know there is assistance available sometimes for things like this but just overall the cost structure is unfair.)

The question about my claim is fixed and my FSA is in good standing. Hopefully that's the last I have to unexpectedly read about the scenario.