Monthly Archives: January 2011

You and I, we’re off to a new server. It’s possible that the site will get crashy and weird, but I’m pretty darn sure I know what I’m doing.

But like even more than the captain of the Titanic.

And I’ve got a back up file.

So, let’s see if Media Temple can keep this site moving a little faster.

Going. Going…..

I know, I’m supposed to be all delighted with the “My Son is Gay” blogger. I’m supposed to think that she’s a heroine for letting her son dress as Daphne for Halloween.

Okay fine, it was Halloween. I’d probably let Alexander dress as a girl for Halloween, but my family would think I’m a complete and utter asshole if I posted my son’s picture and then told the world he was gay. Why? Because that’s an asshole move at any age.

Mom blogging can be Moms talking to Moms, or Moms talking to the world. It doesn’t have to be Moms Telling Stories That Will Haunt Their Children. Oh, unless you drove a tank down the 405 instead of going to class in your freshman year of college. That will humiliate everyone, and it is a story that clearly needs to be told.

My son, who has no gender identity issues, may not wear a dress outside this house. He may not wear a pink frilly top, or tap dancing shoes. My son, because he is being raised by conservative freakazoids, will only wear clothing purchased in the boy’s department. Yes, I recognize that I’m narrow minded. I am okay with that.

If your son or daughter has gender identity issues this video is not about you. I’m really sorry, but I can only address the 99% of the world that smacks me in the face. It’s a blog, not an encyclopedia. I’m a Mom Blogger, not a politician, you don’t have to love me, and I don’t have to campaign for your issues.

So what say ye? Would you let your son wear a dress to school?

My morning started with a slow logon, and then this:

Here’s the text of my tech support. I am not happy.

Jon: [10:19:02 AM] Welcome to our real-time support chat. How can I help you today?
Jessica Gottlie..: [10:19:02 AM] help, my site is very very slow
[10:19:22 AM] actually it appears to be down
Jon: [10:20:20 AM] okay I am showing that the account is being throttled quite a bit
[10:20:32 AM] go ahead and login to the cpanel and go to the logs section to CPU Throttling
Jessica Gottlie..: [10:22:01 AM] okay, I’m there
Jon: [10:22:14 AM] and this tool will give you the reason why the site is running slow
Jessica Gottlie..: [10:22:34 AM] okay, but I’m not looking for a reason, I’m looking for a solution.
Jon: [10:22:53 AM] you will need to optimize the site to handle the amount of load it is placing on the server
[10:23:17 AM] you will want to optimize the site, database, clean up unused information on the server to help with the load
Jessica Gottlie..: [10:23:38 AM] but I’m trying to grow my site bigger, not reduce it’s size.
Jon: [10:24:32 AM] okay with that amount of time with the CPU throttling I would recommend using a Virtual Private Server or a Dedicated server to handle the load
[10:24:47 AM] it is looking like you are about to outgrow our system
Jessica Gottlie..: [10:24:52 AM] shit
[10:25:03 AM] I mean shoot.
[10:25:29 AM] is there a dedicated server that I can use without me having to do any work?
Jon: [10:25:56 AM] not within our servers
[10:26:08 AM] to keep the site from being slow you will need to optimize the site on our servers
Jessica Gottlie..: [10:26:41 AM] right, but I’m adding content every day, so I’m thinking that optimizing is a very short term solution.
Jon: [10:27:41 AM] yes it is and the long term solution would be to migrate the site to a server that is able to handle your site
Jessica Gottlie..: [10:27:58 AM] Thanks Jon. Appreciate it, even though you made me want to cry.

This morning I took my kids to their tennis lesson. The child who had his lesson before Jane and Alexander was getting a patch put on his eye by his mother.  He was a bit younger than Alexander.

“Four hours.” She said, gently pressing the patch onto the bridge of his nose.

“My son wears a patch too.” I told her.

“Your husband and I have talked about it at length.” She snapped, and then a little more gently she continued, “it’s terrible what these kids have to go through.”

I smiled for her and picked up my book.

When Alexander was six months old I knew he needed the surgery, but I was terrified for him, and I was thinking that we’d take the conservative route offered to us (it never should have been offered), and to patch Alexander for eight hours a day, four hours each eye, and wait until he was about two for the first surgery.

While taking Jane to nursery school one of the moms took a look at Alexander and said, “You’re going to fix that aren’t you?” And then she took her glasses off, showed me that her left eye immediately turned into her nose, and said, “you can’t make friends when no one can look you in the eye.” She went on and on to detail a chilhood with no eye contact, and finally no one talking to her, because it was difficult for them to know if they had her attention. She talked about the loneliness she attributed to her eyes, and the fact that things got better almost immediately after her first surgery in middle school.

This wonderful woman also told me how she had to have adjustments every ten years or so, and that the surgeries spanning into her adulthood would not likely be necessary had her eyes been corrected as a child.

If an angel had swooped down on June 11, 2002 and said to me, “Before you hand your infant son to the anethesiologist I’ll allow you to give up your vision and he will have his.” I would have made the accommodation in a second.

Strabisumus seemed like the cruelest of conditions in 2002.

In April of 2003 Alexander went back for a second surgery, and he was not the youngest child, therefore he was not the first on the schedule. When they were a few moments late I anxiously asked the nurse what to do. “Sit tight.” was the gentle reply.

I asked again after half an hour, and again after 45 minutes, when finally the nurse replied, “Our doctors are running behind schedule, because they are operating on a five week old girl who was born with no vision.” I sat down, I shut up, and I hugged my baby who could see quite well out of one of his eyes.

This morning I put a contact lens into Alexander’s eye. Only one lens, because he has 20/20 vision in the other eye. He patches just six hours a week, which is remarkable. Alexander’s eyes are not perfect, I can see them turn in at the end of a very long day, and it’s possible that another surgery is on the horizon for him.

My son sees, and he sees well. He doesn’t feel burdened by his diminished eyesight most days, but I have to confess that as his mother I do.

I understand how the mother of a 5 year old could feel overwhelmed, and as if her son isn’t getting the gift of a typical childhood, but really he is. They all are, because this is their typical. This is Alexander’s normal, and it’s a good childhood, and it’s really not a terrible burden for the kids when we learn to keep our anxieties to ourselves.

Bloggers love and hate comments. Comments are often the validation that we’re all looking for, and, almost as often, can be like a dagger through the heart (or an axe in your back). I’ve had dozens of people ask me the same question:

How do you deal with the hateful comments. Don’t they bother you?

No, they don’t, and they shouldn’t bother you either.

Have you ever accidentally cut someone off it traffic only to have them honk at you, drive past, sneer and flip you the bird? Have they ever rolled down a window to yell and scream at you, and then skidded off leaving only a trail of burned rubber behind?

When I was younger I might have reacted to the driver with road rage. I might have sped after them, or cut them off again, I might have played dangerous games of chicken while my adrenaline surged.

I’m wiser now, and I’m a fairly courteous driver. I see road rage around me, and it leaves me unaffected. Road rage is just like comments.

If you haven’t been in my home your angry comments can’t hurt me. I look at them, and I envision you speeding past me on the 405 with your middle finger hanging out your car window. I think of you alone in a car headed nowhere quickly. Even when the comments are not anonymous, they’re not likely to be words that would be said to my face.

I’ve promised myself that every time I read an annoying comment, I’ll just imagine who is it behind the computer, and more often that not contempt fades to pity, or even worse apathy. I don’t care that they exist. I honestly see no value in their words. None.

Conversely, if I’ve been out of line, and someone from my inner-circle leaves a comment letting me know that I’ve been hurtful, crude or mean, those are wonderful comments to get. Thank you for saving me from general assholery. It’s good when your girlfriends help you become a better person.

The answer is Cheerios.

Does this still feel like a healthy breakfast to you?

Whole Grain Oats, Modified Corn Starch, Sugar, Salt, Tripotassium Phosphate, Oat Fiber, Wheat Starch. Vitamin E  Calcium Carbonate, Iron and Zinc, Vitamin C, a B Vitamin, Vitamin B6, Vitamin B2. Vitamin B1,, Vitamin A , a B Vitamin, Vitamin B12, Vitamin D3.