Memorial Dayish

With Memorial Day just around the corner, all the American media machines are pumping stories about the Gulf Coast Oil disaster and touting the annual white sales and summer bar-b-q season kick-off deals. Occasionally you hear about soldiers serving or sacrificing their lives in far off places like Afghanistan and Iraq – places you have barely heard of, never been nor would you want to visit.
Not long ago, Israel commemorated its annual memorial day – Yom HaZikaron. I surreptitiously caught my husband standing at attention while he watched the taped media coverage of the commemoration ceremonies that had happened hours earlier and thousands of miles away.
Granted, this is a special holiday for all Israelis when the entire country stands for a moment of silence while air raid sirens sound overhead. And even more so for my husband whose father and several uncles were career military men. One of his uncles was on active duty when he was killed in a car wreck and so every year the family as a unit trundles off to the military section of the cemetery in their small town to honor and pay respect to their fallen relative and countrymen.
Now, my children learned about Yom HaZikaron in conjunction with Yom HaAtzmaut (Israeli Independence Day) which directly follows on the heels the somber mood of the memorial day ceremonies. The sun goes down on the somber mood of Memorial Day and the Israeli populace breaks out in public concerts, fireworks displays and general mayhem that may or may not include being chased and hit over the head with a plastic toy hammer and silly string. What that has to do with commemorating Israeli Independence Day I have never figured out, but it sure is fun. Like the American version, bar-b-q is a staple, but Israeli style, with pita and hummus at every table.
What I had a bit of trouble with was when I tried to discuss the Memorial Day holiday with my kids. The discussion went something like this:
Me: Did you learn about Yom HaZikaron and remembering the Israeli soldiers at school?
Them: Yes
Me: Well our American Memorial Day is coming up soon and you will be off from school….
I couldn’t figure out a way to make this Memorial Day holiday relevant to these American kids who have never met a real-live soldier, whereas in Israel, all of hubby’s younger cousins seem to be in the army or right around the army age (either just before or just after)
I want to make this memorial day something extra memorable for them since it will be the last one for awhile before I will be feeling up to giving them my undivided attention and getting them somewhere fun to do something. Somehow my birthday and July 4th which are both still on the horizon, just don’t seem to be on my radar as the time to do something fun with them, since I am feeling more and more like my body is preparing to give birth to these twins sooner rather than later at this point….like any day now...
Since I saw my OB/GYN this monday, and gave her my verbal report that the U/S doctor hadn't yet sent over (and then researched all he said fanatically on the interweb) I feel like the pregnancy has finally taken over my body and I have had to relinquish control. I have been might uncomfortable lately owing partially to the tiniest sliver of glass that was embedded in my foot and then the subsequent stich when the GP had to dig to get it out. Now several days after the stitch was removed, I am still hobbling about because it is still tender (maybe the stubborn sliver is still in there) but mostly because I managed to jam my toes and twist my ankle on the day the stitch was removed. I took that as a sign that the universe wanted me to stay off my feet so I played hookey from work: I took 3 naps, had a leisurely lunch with my aunt, went shopping, and dropped off and picked up my mother from her myriad drs sessions at the cancer center. The next day it still took me almost 30 minutes to walk the 3 blocks from my car to my building -between my sore toesies, my tender foot and the extra baby weight I am hauling around (sometimes they just feel like they weigh a ton and other times it is no big deal)
I'm thinking I'm gonna have to change my mantra for the next little bit from - "I'm not broken, I'm just pregnant" to "So I'm a little worse for wear, and thank you for holding that door (or elevator, or seating me at a table instead of a booth)"

not a happy dance kinda day

I am stressing out about finances for the coming year and don't really know what to do other than be as proactive as I have been already.

Somehow I think having a nanny will be less expensive than daycare times 2. Plus two other school tuitions. Plus an increased mortgage and out of pocket expenses having to deal with a likely C-section (I'm finally coming to terms with that possibility although the thought scares me and I would rather do without) and care for 2 newborns.

Whoever said money is no object has not walked a mile in my shoes lately.

And on that point, I can't even walk a mile in my own shoes right this minute. Between gasping for breath because of my weight gain from the babies and the minor surgery I had to undergo yesterday to get the embedded remaining tiny sliver of glass out of my foot (which the dr couldn't really even see except for the glint of it in the light from the scope), I am nursing a tenderfoot with a stitch that needs to be removed in a week.

I hobbled my-own-self since we tried to get it out ourselves. Dad got a piece, then I soaked it a week later and got another piece out and then in the process moved the other remaining piece around so much that it was irritated and well embedded and not going anywhere. The dr couldn't see it any more than I could, but I could feel it for sure when he rubbed over the location. He had to give me a local anaesthetic injection and that was pretty darn painful! Never mind - I just joked that I am preparing for the hardship of labor to deliver these babies. Then he called in the nurse to assist - he wanted me to lay down on the table on my stomach and I refused. So rather unorthodox of most patients, he allowed me to sit on the corner of the exam table while he labored on my foot and Delilah held it still for him - with the understanding that I was not allowed to look [ not that I would want to -eeeewwww]. Delilah missed the whole injection phase, so she thought aloud that I had a rather high tolerance for pain which is when I joked that I was practicing getting my body ready for real pain...of labor... Then she wasn't really prepared for an extraction stitch kit, but went to get one while the dr held the wound together. Would have been better if I hadn't looked then either. Couldn't bear to watch the stiching part, but actually felt some of that so whatever...

All of that drama made the freezing of the wart on the other leg a walk in the park...