Why is it that on the weekends that I don' t have any plans "scheduled" I seem to be busier than ever? After a crazy-ridiculous week of work and deadlines and spreadsheets and meetings, I was looking forward to a little R & R. No plans except for a kids birthday party on Sunday, no sweat. I thought I'd have a leisurely Saturday, go for my morning run, cook some breakfast, enjoy the cool weather, spend time with the kids...ya know, a lot of nothing on a Saturday. Sunday, I anticipated reading the newspaper, enjoying bagels delivered by my husband, with Starbucks of course, a quick jaunt to the birthday party and time to plan a delicious, leisurely Sunday night family dinner.
What happened exactly was that I did all of that and fifty-five zillion other things in between. Six loads of laundry, wipe down the baseboards, help Maverick clean the garage, run errands, prepare sixteen meals, organize the girls' closets, make lists of lists of things I need to get done, and a host of other essential things that were not scheduled on the initial agenda.
I may be a fanatic for a clean glass kitchen table, but I do not exaggerate by telling you I wiped that table down thirty-two times in one weekend. Once after an art project, again after breakfast, another time after snack, again after lunch and afternoon snack, after dinner, after dessert later and finally again after the girls were tucked away in their beds and I saw smudges I missed the first twenty times. Multiply that by two and a half days of the weekend and that quickly adds up to thirty-two.
Then there's the shoes that need to be picked up infinitely and returned to their proper place. I'm always amazed by how four people can create a pile of shoes to fit an army by the end of each day. I also have to put away eight little baggies of unfinished snacks, two dishwasher loads, a host of mail that needs to be scanned, sorted and tossed. Backpacks to be emptied and then filled again within forty-eight hours, homework to be filed and homework to start. Playdates, babysitters and carpooling arrangements to be made. Tivo'ed shows to be watched, scattered magazines to be read and recycled. Pictures to be taken, enhanced, printed, emailed and scrapbooked.
Not to mention the list of "weekend projects" that need to be executed...things that can't happen during the waking work week: windows to be washed, patios to be pressure cleaned; garages to be organized; whole closets that need to be organized, drawers that need to be cleaned, filing that needs to be filed.
And of course, in between all this, I must find time to hang out in the driveway so the kids can get fresh air and play with their friends because we live in a sick world and I can't let them out on their own like I was allowed at their age.
It's no wonder I'm so pooped when it's time to go back to work on Monday.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Call me crazy...you're not the only one.
It just seemed to "happen" one day back in May. I was getting dressed on a Saturday night with a few extra minutes to pay some attention to myself. I'm a mother of 2 girls, so looking closely in the mirror is a luxury I ususally cannot afford. I noticed that some of my eyelashes seemed to have fallen out. I wondered how I hadn't noticed that before. I thought something was wrong with my eyes--some weird eye infection perhaps. Over the next few weeks, I inspected my eyes closely while I waited for my appointment with the eye doctor.
Then one day, I noticed the hair seemed to be thinning at the front of my face. Not just at my temples, but all along the crown and at my hairline. I panicked, worrying how did I not even notice this before? How come I didn't make the connection? I had the dull realization that the hair I saw in my shower drain lately was my own. (I had convinced myself subconsiously it was my daughter's hair since they had just started showering in my bathroom.) I completely panicked and broke into hysterics. I lost it.
I showed my scalp to everyone...my friends, my husband, my mother, my collegues. No one could see it. Instead, they all showed me their hair and complained that they too were losing hair. I knew I wasn't crazy. I knew I had a whole lot more hair on my head just two months ago. So I went to a dermatologist who poo-pooed me. She ran the blood tests, which came back normal, and shrugged me off that it was probably stress. Yes, I was stressed, but no more so than I have been the remaining 37 years of my life. She sent me on my way.
I returned to her office two weeks later in hysterics again. I could see a few random hairs missing in my eyebrows, my eyelashes were missing spots and my hair seemed even thinner and more noticable directly at the top of my forehead. She gave me some foam and send me packing.
I found a therapist. He was just what I needed because I was competely losing my mind. I felt totally out of control and at a loss for what would happen next. Over the next few months, I watched and waited. The hair loss finally seemed to have slowed. I kept telling myself that as long as the volume stayed the same I could live and deal with it. Maybe it was stress. Maybe my body reacted differently now that I'm 38. I hoped and watched all summer.
All of a sudden last month, the hairs started falling out. I can now see light shining through the top. I can see hair loss all over. My pony tail is half the size. No one else can see it yet. So everyone still thinks I'm over reacting. If one more person shows me their temples I'm going to scream. It's NOT THE SAME THING!, I scream in my mind. It's not. This is sudden, dramatic hair loss. I see parts of my hairline receding. I see ten hairs in the space three times as many used to fit. I had a cowlick on the front of my forehead that's no longer there. My long bang is wispy.
I'm afraid to wash it or brush it. I'm afraid to continue with my highlights or color it all back to brown. I go to the bathroom with the light off so I don't inspect, because god knows, I can't pass a mirror--or anything reflective in nature--without stopping to inspect. Heaven forbid I lose another hair and wasn't aware!
The dermatologist recommended Rogaine. I cried in the car at the CVS and laughed with the counter girl about purchasing it. I felt like a thirteen-year-old girl again buying tampons for the first time. I was mortified. I read the package insert to learn I could lose MORE hair on the way to growing new hair almost a year from now. It took another two days to get the product on my scalp.
I tried to google a hair loss specialist and all I can find are hair replacement specialists. There must be another person who can help me. I can't accept this is female pattern baldness. I've never heard of it being so sudden. I feel so helpless and out of control and sad. I can't stop envisioning the need for me to wear a wig. I saw a woman at Starbucks with beautiful, long, red hair the other day. Except her hairline started at a 90 degree angle from her nose She had a 6 inch forehead. I vomited in the Starbucks bathroom as I envisioned myself looking that way soon.
I'm almost thankful to have complete honesty from my hairdresser who tells me I'm not crazy. She expected to see new growth too, but doesn't. Last year I found out I carry the gene for breast cancer and had my breasts removed. Isn't that enough for one seemingly healthy woman? It just doesn't feel fair the way the cards are dealt in life. I'm not good at waiting...I'm not good at not knowing what to do next. I'm a girl with a plan at all times. Except now.
Then one day, I noticed the hair seemed to be thinning at the front of my face. Not just at my temples, but all along the crown and at my hairline. I panicked, worrying how did I not even notice this before? How come I didn't make the connection? I had the dull realization that the hair I saw in my shower drain lately was my own. (I had convinced myself subconsiously it was my daughter's hair since they had just started showering in my bathroom.) I completely panicked and broke into hysterics. I lost it.
I showed my scalp to everyone...my friends, my husband, my mother, my collegues. No one could see it. Instead, they all showed me their hair and complained that they too were losing hair. I knew I wasn't crazy. I knew I had a whole lot more hair on my head just two months ago. So I went to a dermatologist who poo-pooed me. She ran the blood tests, which came back normal, and shrugged me off that it was probably stress. Yes, I was stressed, but no more so than I have been the remaining 37 years of my life. She sent me on my way.
I returned to her office two weeks later in hysterics again. I could see a few random hairs missing in my eyebrows, my eyelashes were missing spots and my hair seemed even thinner and more noticable directly at the top of my forehead. She gave me some foam and send me packing.
I found a therapist. He was just what I needed because I was competely losing my mind. I felt totally out of control and at a loss for what would happen next. Over the next few months, I watched and waited. The hair loss finally seemed to have slowed. I kept telling myself that as long as the volume stayed the same I could live and deal with it. Maybe it was stress. Maybe my body reacted differently now that I'm 38. I hoped and watched all summer.
All of a sudden last month, the hairs started falling out. I can now see light shining through the top. I can see hair loss all over. My pony tail is half the size. No one else can see it yet. So everyone still thinks I'm over reacting. If one more person shows me their temples I'm going to scream. It's NOT THE SAME THING!, I scream in my mind. It's not. This is sudden, dramatic hair loss. I see parts of my hairline receding. I see ten hairs in the space three times as many used to fit. I had a cowlick on the front of my forehead that's no longer there. My long bang is wispy.
I'm afraid to wash it or brush it. I'm afraid to continue with my highlights or color it all back to brown. I go to the bathroom with the light off so I don't inspect, because god knows, I can't pass a mirror--or anything reflective in nature--without stopping to inspect. Heaven forbid I lose another hair and wasn't aware!
The dermatologist recommended Rogaine. I cried in the car at the CVS and laughed with the counter girl about purchasing it. I felt like a thirteen-year-old girl again buying tampons for the first time. I was mortified. I read the package insert to learn I could lose MORE hair on the way to growing new hair almost a year from now. It took another two days to get the product on my scalp.
I tried to google a hair loss specialist and all I can find are hair replacement specialists. There must be another person who can help me. I can't accept this is female pattern baldness. I've never heard of it being so sudden. I feel so helpless and out of control and sad. I can't stop envisioning the need for me to wear a wig. I saw a woman at Starbucks with beautiful, long, red hair the other day. Except her hairline started at a 90 degree angle from her nose She had a 6 inch forehead. I vomited in the Starbucks bathroom as I envisioned myself looking that way soon.
I'm almost thankful to have complete honesty from my hairdresser who tells me I'm not crazy. She expected to see new growth too, but doesn't. Last year I found out I carry the gene for breast cancer and had my breasts removed. Isn't that enough for one seemingly healthy woman? It just doesn't feel fair the way the cards are dealt in life. I'm not good at waiting...I'm not good at not knowing what to do next. I'm a girl with a plan at all times. Except now.
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