Mom Blogging Articles

Like you never had a meltdown before.

Tennis and pho fixed everything. Thanks for your concern.

I guess I wasn’t clear in my earlier post. You see the fax gave me tsuris but the problem, the real problem is that my son is going to have surgery for the fourth fucking time.

So yeah, HIPPA is a logistical nightmare. The surgeon is a mensch and his office staff is kind but they are in over their heads. That they won’t fax another physicians office (by the way physicians are the only dinosaurs still using those damn machines) is absurd and speaks to the fact that somehow lawyers and MBAs are involved in my son’s surgery.

So I’m pissed and it’s a LOT easier to be pissed about the fax than about the fact that once again my son will be on a gurney, once again my son will cry blood for a few hours and once again I’ll hope against hope that this actually works.

And efax.com isn’t particularly reliable. I know you think your 23943287493 emails are problem solving but they just irritate the fuck out of me. It’s entirely possible that I’ll have no friends left at the end of this next chapter and (no offense) today that seems like it would be just fine.

I can’t get my fax machine to work and everyone with a chronic condition knows that you must have a fax machine because physicians can’t email anything because of HIPPA. I think HIPPA was written to benefit psychiatrists because I’ll be needing one by the end of the day.

Alexander has a pre-op appointment today. We’re going ahead with surgery #4 for strabismus. I’d hoped that we’d be able to do it in December of 2012 but for a variety of reasons it really needs to happen now. None of the reasons are particularly interesting.

So once again I’m at UCLA hat in hand and begging for a cancellation appointment for my son.

In order to be put on the schedule Alexander must first have a pre operative physical exam from his pediatrician. This is mostly for the anesthesiologists.

I’ve known for the past few weeks that Alexander needed another surgery but it took me until Friday to act on it. I called the office at UCLA and requested Alexander be put on the cancellation list. The folks at UCLA told me they’d fax forms over and I explained that the fax machine was not on and that I wouldn’t be home Friday to turn it on so we agreed on a Monday fax.

This morning they sent the documents over via fax and I didn’t have it set up quite right. I adjusted the settings, called the office and asked them to resend it. They resent the forms and the first four pages are great, the next twelve are blank. My all in one was out of ink. Of course.

So I call to have them try for a third time but no one is answering the phones at just 11.30. I’m pretty sure they take lunch at noon so the lines must be jammed. I ask the service to please fax them a note and ask them to fax me and the doctor’s office directly. They don’t like sending faxes directly to the pediatricians because they get lost she explains and I try to not scream or cry.

I’m picking my son up from school early today to bring him to a doctor’s appointment, he doesn’t know why he’s having it. I didn’t want to ruin his weekend but I did ask him on Friday how he felt about his eyes. I asked him if he wanted to fix them because it’s a close call as to whether or not they need fixing. Medically it’s undeniable but if he wants to learn to live with it I’d be open to that, or at least I think I would be.

I’m back in the world of medical nonsense where gifted surgeons are surrounded by blithering idiots led by a team of lawyers who won’t allow them to simply email me a blank document because someone told them that someone might sue.

All because I ran out of ink.

Yesterday, like most days, was jam packed. I spent the bulk of the day dealing with video, udemy.com (it’s a disaster over there) and general officey type stuff that makes me want to cry. I walked the dog, I took a longer faster walk and I had a little time alone with my husband. That time is both rare and delightful on a weekday.

There was this bikini event at 5 that I’d planned to attend with Jane because she really needs new swimsuits and I figured this would be a stress free way to deal with it but of course I’d forgotten that there was a spring sing. So I RSVPed to an event that I don’t really care about but I’d thought my daughter would like knowing that I had to be at Staples Center for the Kings game at 6.

I showed up at the bikini thing and met a lady in the elevator who lives in the neighborhood but, of course, I didn’t get her name. Then I ran into my neighbor and another friend. I suckled a Bellini, tried on a great swimsuit from Vix Swimwear and I left.

The valet had a tough time finding my keys but I was able to make it to Staples Center with 40 seconds to spare.

Can I just say that parking at Staples Center is $25. AEG owns the whole area and now they’re trying to bring football to LA but they want 8234324 tax breaks. I’m pretty sure they’ve got the cash to make it happen and LA could really use those tax dollars.

I fast walked to my seats (grabbing a sushi on the way… it’s LA after all) where my husband, Alexander and our friend were already watching. My son was a little down and it didn’t make sense to me. After a few minutes I figured out that he hadn’t finished his homework and was in a full fledged panic. I emailed his teacher and then lied to him. I told him that his teacher said to not worry about a thing and to enjoy the game. Thankfully when I woke up this morning the teacher had said just that.

We had amazing seats 15 rows up from the ice, unfortunately these people were just 10 rows up from the ice.

The blonde girl (who was convinced that she’s much more adorable than she really is) stood up every time the puck came down our way. This forced many rows of men to stand up to see and a half dozen of them to yell things like Bitch sit down. And as much as I like to scream misogyny with the best of them it really was a moment to yell at her.

This flipped Alexander out. He felt unsafe and uncomfortable but still enjoyed the game. 

We were home before 10 and by all accounts the Spring Sing was wonderful. Jane and her Grandpa enjoyed an evening together.

Last night I went to an event where I knew no one. I guess technically I knew the host, but I didn’t know him to the point where I’d leave the house to spend hours with him talking about nothing.

I figured I’d go to the event and surely there would be someone there that I knew. Los Angeles is a small town.

I pulled up to the address and gasped a little. Twenty or so years ago I almost married someone there. The Swede, it was a close call but thanks to my Grandfather it’s the wedding that never happened.

So I entered the party a little rattled but ready to put my best foot forward. After the scanning the crowd I realized I knew no one and I decided that this wasn’t going to be like a regular LA event where you show up and have drinks with people you already know and leave having met no one. I completely barged in on a conversation that three women were having.

“I’m going to go ahead and introduce myself. I’m Jessica.” And I extended my hand.

It felt like 852 years passed before smiles crossed everyone’s faces, but they did. And it was great. I met three amazing women and a man. A makeup artist, a German writer, an interior designer and one who never talked about her work. They were smart and they were funny and my circle of friends just got larger.

It was terrifying and I’m going to continue to terrify myself otherwise it’s just not worth leaving the house.

Earlier this week I made a little video about the Time Magazine Cover and I wondered aloud (once again) if Mom Blogging is good for kids. The feedback I got was mostly unrelated to the content of the video. It was more like: The hair! You have a great blowout.

I did it myself. I had a good haircut (for a change) and I learned a few tricks.

Basically the folks at Wella saw my constant updates about my bad haircuts and bigoted hairdressers and took pity on me. Sometime before the awards season they wanted Jane and me to see one of their hairdressers for color and styling. They wanted us to bring in pictures of red carpet hair and they’d provide the styling.

That never happened. With sports and travel and life it was virtually impossible to get myself and my daughter to have a few free hours on the same day. We were trying for a February appointment and the first available date was April 14. It wasn’t them. It was me.

Anyhow, for the first time since I was a preadolescent I had a haircut outside of the Cristophe Salon.

Jane and I walked into The C Salon in Studio City and everything was the same as every other salon but everything was also different. It’s a beautiful and noisy space, chatter, blow dryers and music keep it loud and lively. What was noticeably missing was the attitude. I typically hate the salon experience because of the prettier than thou attitide and not one person at The C Salon had it.

The receptionists were warm and welcoming, all the hairdressers made eye contact and smiled. Everyone seemed to be happy to be there. This shouldn’t be remarkable but sadly it is.

Jane was looking for some highlights and I wasn’t sure what to expect but when Tiffany came out with a big smile, the perfect pink lipstick (deemed perfect by Jane) and a tutu-like skirt I knew we had the perfect hairdresser for my 13 year old. I just didn’t know if she was to be trusted. I hovered a little reminding her that we were looking for subtle and she nodded and assured me it would be natural and pretty and would please us both.

Did it ever. Are these the most natural looking highlights you’ve ever seen?

In addition to being pretty and trendy Tiffany is a foster mother and was telling Jane about her kids. Atypical discussion for a hair salon but totally refreshing and much needed.

I ended up having a cut and style with the owner of the salon Claudio Lazo. As we got to talking we realized that our daughters had played soccer at the same park for the past seven years and that they’d been on a team together for a Thanksgiving tournament last year. As we chatted it became apparent that Claudio set the tone at the salon. You’d think I’d be relaxed at this point but I really wasn’t. As much as I’d become unhappy with my hairdresser before him I wasn’t particularly trusting.

We talked a lot about styling and he told me he teaches classes that are hours long on how to make a ponytail. Apparently to get a runway ponytail you start with a triangle of hair where the pony will sit and you add hair tiny bits at a time to it. I might ask him to make a video with me if y’all want to learn a bit about a runway ponytail.

While Claudio was trimming my hair he mentioned cutting it a little shorter in the front because of my high cheekbones…. uh yeah. If by “high cheekbones” he meant “chubby cheeks” then he was spot on. It was just so refreshing to have someone speak to me kindly. Why am I so slow to change?

I do a good blowdry for myself but as my hair has straightened out in the last few years I’ve not known how to get body into it other than with different sizes of round brushes, this is an exhausting process. Claudio gave me a few tips about getting those beachy waves we all love.

• Use a heat protecting spray. (Wella has one that I’m newly addicted to)
• Curl small sections of hair and let them hang naturally to cool down or put a pin in them to create a tighter curl
• After your entire head has curled and the hair has cooled hit it with a bit of spray
• use your fingertips to pull down a few strands from each curl not so much brushing as pulling and positioning.

It’s been a month since my cut and styling and it’s still a good haircut.

That’s me with not a stitch of makeup. I told you I don’t have time for anything.