40 in four(ty): pals and nicknames and symbols

Well, damn. 40 in forty has quickly turned into 40 in four. Good thing I'm excited about it. 

I really don't have much in the way of wisdom left to share. But I have, as my birthday and party approach, been thinking about friendships and the many incredible people I'm lucky enough to call dear pals. About what it means to know and to be known. About how it feels to make our ways, both alone and together, through this thing called life.

About the nicknames we bestow to special people and the inside jokes we share over the years. About the importance of safe relationships in which you can ugly cry one minute and laugh hysterically the next; in which you can whisper to each other that your children approached asshole status earlier and also send each other photographs of and brag notes about those devil-angels later.

Yesterday, while one of my besties, C, and I were rearranging what furniture I do have (she grooves on that sort of thing which is one reason I love her), I received a mailing tube from Poland. I do not know anyone in Poland but I spied a fleur-de-lis stamp on the outside of the package and squealed a bit just as C said, "I bet it's a present." 

Friends, I did not think surprise gifts could get much cooler than the personalized knife of two weeks back, but the Polish treat is right on par with the blade from Japan. 

It is a LASER-ENGRAVED rolling pin, people. Peppered with FLEURS-DE-LIS. It wallpapers your cookies (or fondant or whatever) with fleurs! Say what?

Today after finally finishing a project I've been working on for the kids' school, I scurried to the kitchen and made some shortbread dough. As an aside, this is the only shortbread you should ever make. It is Ming Tsai's recipe, and it is off the hook. I sub vanilla bean paste for the vanilla bean innards. Same diff. If you have time, make the cookies several days in advance because they improve with age. Do NOT skimp on the salt.

Ok, anyway, back to the pin. Beyond the fact that it's just ridiculously cool and pretty, it is also exceedingly me, and that's what I love most about it. Amy, one of my dearest college besties, knows me inside and out, and she knew this was perfect and that I would adore it. Today on the phone, amidst my enthused goings-on, she said, "I mean, I looked on the woman's website and saw one WITH YOUR SYMBOL." 

Indeed. Why not have a symbol? You don't have to go all Prince about it, but rather, you can think about a symbol (or image if you prefer) as a nickname you give yourself.

I have always been an enormous fan of nicknames and feel quite happy when others start calling me something that seems to roll of their tongues without their even thinking.

In college, my best guy friend, Mike, and also my roommate, Rosemary, called me Emmy. Amy called me Ems (and still does), and I called her Ames (still do). My senior year boyfriend called me Emil. He's the only one to ever coin that one, and in many ways, that seems fitting. He was special and so was the name. Most everyone else called me Nichols (maiden name). 

My mom always called me Rascal, and now, most people call me Em. 

seriously. how gorgeous are those cookies?!

My inability to completely let go of Nichols is the reason I took it back as part of my last name after briefly letting it go post-marriage. I realized that it was too tightly wound to the core of my identity to not use. Adding it back was like welcoming home a long-lost (in this case short-lost) friend. 

And now I have my beloved fleur-de-lis which is a state symbol of both Louisiana and Florence (where I grew up/my parents still live; where my sister lives) and also this blog and me. 

Forget about it with my kids. I call each of them at least a half-dozen different names including Doodle, Peaches, Onk and Bug.

Do you have an image that people connect with you? Something that makes people think, "Oh, that is SO her!" What about a nickname? Do you have one? More? What are your favorites? Have you ever been nicknamed something you hated?

I find that nicknames breed a greater familiarity and a whole lot of warmth. The world is nicer with those things in it. Go forth with symbols and nicknames and good friends!

On a cold dark night, she put her foot down

I am tired today. Have been since I awoke. Last week was long; jet-lag, dealing with the kids' jet-lag, readying our old house to go on the market, illness, prepping Jack for his camping trip, welcoming an exhausted (but happy) Jack back from his camping trip, telling Oliver about Percy, preparing to tell Jack about Percy, digging out my winter parka and sadly putting it on. 

I am tired and I have felt increasingly constricted, folding inward as if trying to shield myself from one.more.to-do. I have not read the paper, the laundry is not folded, undercurrents of rage and dismay are coursing through my veins.

Not rage at any one thing, but rage against life's relentlessness and a dismay about that fact. The rage that comes from being overtaxed and underhelped. From feeling cold. This is a familiar feeling for many. It doesn't worry me, it doesn't put me off when I see it in others. I understand. But I don't like it.

What bothers me most about these shadowy pits is that in them, I lose elasticity. I can sense the way my posture changes, the way my usually glowing face darkens as if under the shadow of a pregnant storm cloud. 

I stop feeling expansive and generous. My sense of humor goes AWOL. I want to shutter, close for the season, throw huge swaths of stuff and obligations out, and start anew tomorrow or next week, after I've burrowed in a flannel blanket and wrung the chill right out. 

I don't have anything for you tonight except these truths. That in the face of overwhelm and waves of Legos and bobos and joy and a fourth trip to the DMV and more laundry and whining and dust bunnies and freeze warnings in April, hunkering down is a very fine option. 

Refusing to help with baths or "watch me, watch me" one more time tonight and instead cooking a good meal (this one-pot chicken and sumac onion dish really is so very good; go me!) to share with Tom is how I put my foot down today. Tonight. A small action, a needed one. It starts again tomorrow.

chicken with caramelized sumac onions and israeli couscous

40 in forty: Get your annual exams and know your body

When I was a newlywed and thinking ahead to the childbearing years on my horizon, I began tracking my basal temperatures each morning. I can't remember why I first started doing so; maybe I already realized how irregular my periods were, or perhaps I just wanted to get my ducks in a row and a good friend who tracked her temps suggested I do the same as she'd had trouble ovulating and getting pregnant.

Armed with my basal thermometer, some print-out charts and the marvelous book, Taking Charge of Your Fertility, I soon found that I wasn't regularly ovulating; that would make getting pregnant difficult.

We were in Cambridge then, and, lucky to have the benefit of the fantastic Harvard medical system, I made an appointment to figure the ovulation thing out and found that I had a small cyst on my pineal gland and that I had a significantly under-active thyroid, an integral part of the endocrine system that regulates many important hormones, not least those linked to reproduction.

Because I found all of this out early on, I could 'take charge' and take care of my body. A few MRIs found that the pineal cyst was totally benign and had probably been there for ages. Basically, I can ignore that now. And hypothyroidism is easy to treat; you simply need to find the right dose of synthetic T4 (an identical replacement for what one's thyroid gland produces in non-hypothyroid folks) and take it daily. 

During the regular blood tests during my first pregnancy, I found that I have a naturally lower platelet count. That knowledge has enabled me to inform subsequent physicians about my platelets when my bloodwork comes back and they mention it as a possible issue.

After I had Jack (with no issues at all) and finished nursing, I resumed tracking because my menstrual cycles again seemed haywire. This time I found that I had a vastly protracted luteal phase, the latter part of menstruation, which makes sustaining a pregnancy a challenge. Because I knew this, when I became pregnant with Oliver, I was immediately put on progesterone. It made me awfully sick, but I had no troubles with the pregnancy so totally worth it.

Throughout all of this, I found that I became infinitely more aware of my body's rhythms and "personality." It is always very clear to me when something isn't quite right, and I know immediately when I need to get something investigated.

I've kept detailed records and histories which has made appointments and changes in my doctors over the years really easy to navigate. There aren't any real question marks, and I feel both empowered and totally aware of my health. 

The same is true for my children. For both self and dependents, I have found it essential to advocate. Doctors are rushed, many often want quick and easy answers, and some think they know me or my kids better than I do, even though that feeling is in many ways absurd. I'm the one who spends all my time with self and children, for pete's sakes. 

I am confident that my repeated insistence that Jack's regular fevers weren't the same virus on loop was what finally led to the discovery that he actually had PFAPA, a febrile disorder marked my regular bouts of high fever and swollen tonsils. It was a breeze to treat WHEN we knew what it was. Before that, he was missing a week of school every five weeks and sick as a dog during those absences; often he had fever-induced night terrors. Once we started him on the medicine, old-school cimetidine by the way (a basic stomach acid reducer that is super-safe for pretty much anyone to take), Jack was never sick again and finally outgrew the syndrome.

My plea to you is to get your annual exams, know your body and your history, write it all down, and advocate for yourself and your health.

• See the dentist at least once a year. In the meantime, floss every day. Every day!
• Get your annual physical without fail.
• Ladies, get your annual or biannual gynecological exams. Ovarian cancer is a mean, stealthy beast that often slinks in without symptomology. HPV is about as common as the common cold and is linked to cervical cancer. Find out what you have, if you have something, and treat it!
• Ladies, I also want you to take care of your breasts. Do self exams, get mammograms when you come of age.
• Men, if you have a family history of prostate cancer or any symptoms suggested prostate trouble, get your prostate checked. Come on, guys! You also need annual physicals, and watch your blood pressure and cholesterol which are, according to a doctor friend of mine, the big issues for men in their 40s and 50s. Please see the comment from DrBabs below for helpful links!
• You should also get an annual skin check and in the interim periods check your own skin and wear sunscreen daily. I am an insanely freckly person so it's especially important to be vigilant. I've had moles removed from my back and foot and have a great relationship with the irregularly-shaped and colored moles on my shoulders and chest. Skin cancer is not to be trifled with.
• Do NOT ignore your mental health. Anxiety and depression are real and do not in any way mean you are weak. They can be treated and should be. Therapy is a gift and in my opinion should be something everyone does. We're all human, people, and even those who lucked out in the family department have shit to deal with.
• Eat cleanly and exercise. I eat butter and olive oil and full fat cheese and a bit of dessert every single day. By eating cleanly, I mean Eat Real. Avoid processed shit, diet stuff, things with infinite shelf-lives, and too much sugar. 
  We all need regular exercise, but ladies, as we age, it is especially important that we do weight-bearing and balance exercises. We lose bone mass as we grow older, and weight-training and core strength will help us keep our bones strong AND avoid dangerous falls.

Most insurance covers all above-mentioned tests because they count as preventive care. 

It might seem scary to venture into unknown lands where you could discover something ugly. But I believe that it's better to know as early as possible so that any needed treatment can start pronto. 

Go forth, know yourself, love yourself, care for yourself. Encourage others to do the same!