An Honest Holiday Letter

By Troy Foster

This New Year's Eve - like others in the past - I'm sitting here reading the letters stuffed in many of the holiday cards we received.  I love them.  It's like reality TV.  A lot of hype, bragging, exaggeration, and some out and out lying.  Combined with a small, very small dose of substance and truth.  Of course that's not true of all of them and I sincerely hope that this doesn't result in us getting less of them next year.  Because I really do love them.  (Have to admit that the ones that are completely truthful, just give a basic rundown and pictures are cool - but not nearly the thrill the over-the-top ones provide.  The later ones are in my lap right now!)

But let's have a reality check.  If most of what I read is true, everyone's kid is the smartest, most wonderful child, on the Honor Roll, and enjoying much success in all sports.  And everyone's vacations were perfect, involved going to an island (or two) and a cruise.  All have been promoted or now lucky enough to be staying at home, and loving every minute of it - work and play.  Everyone's spouse is prince charming or a goddess unlike no other; or for the single folks, they couldn't be happier alone by choice - loving every minute of their freedom and would have it no other way.  They've lost weight, bought a new and bigger house (because bigger is always better), live in the safest neighborhood with the best schools, and are bffs with their neighbors.  

You know what I'm talking about.  You get them too.  Come on.  A lot of these folks (some of my closest friends and relatives) are full of it.  Now, don't get me wrong.  It's much better than reading "woe is me" letters, which I do not read more than once.  And, I'm all about seeing the silver lining - in almost everything.  But a silver lining is different than making everything I touch turn into silver and gold.  

From my perspective, shouldn't what happened in the last 12 months - without the exaggeration - be good enough?  What's the shame in having a moderately good year or feeling great that you made it through a hard one?  It's a bit of a bummer that it seems as though these over-the-top letters' authors think they need to "puff" for it to be a success, or to impress their readers.  

We don't write holiday letters, but if we did, it would go something like this:

Our 2011 was filled with a lot of laughs, challenges, but most of all memories.  Here are the highlights.

Luke and Henry are enjoying school.  Luke loves reading and does well.  Except on days that his anxiety is uncontrolled.  On those days, we've had to pry him out from under a water fountain because his new teacher freaked him out.  Henry really likes his special needs pre-school class; his teacher is awesome.  Though there is one boy in Henry's class (like last year) that bites, kicks, and is generally violent.  Henry is not dumb, he's befriended this kid.

Lily is not a huge fan of school and will do almost anything to try to avoid homework.  She also fights with her teacher - not physically like the kid in Henry's class - just attitude.  We've been working on that, and she is doing much better this fall.

Our last au pair was a nightmare.  Basically, she didn't watch the kids, let our 7 and 4 year old run away (really), slept after strapping our youngest (1) into the highchair, and fed our Henry (who is allergic to almost all foods) snacks three times a day.  So, she's gone and I'm staying at home part-time to watch them.  Hard job, but I like it so far.  Good time with the kids, gives me a new appreciation for a lot of things - like clean clothes, floors - anything - which we won't have for more than 5 minutes until 2028.  It's made me a little more of a slob than I'd like.  When I don't have time to shower, I don't.  The end.  I do make sure that my seizure and anti-anxiety meds are taken everyday though because that would be a problem.  I've also made more food - mostly cookies, cakes, and other sweets - than necessary - which has helped me gain weight and land on cholesterol meds.  But 2012 will make the difference.

While I work, the kids go to a preschool at our local church.  Eli is a bit of a manipulative monster - crocodile tears every day I leave and am told that stops, and becomes the "boss" of the class before I'm out of site.  Yep, we see that at home too.  He'll climb on top of things, look at me, smile (you know exactly what it looks like), and yells "get down" to himself.  He eats like an ox, which is refreshing, given that our other kids don't eat.

Kristen is doing great at the firm.  It has grown and shrunk, and then grown again.  We've had our normal crap at work - not worth commenting on.  She's running for Congress.  Oh, and I wrote a book (Three Candles); second one on the way.  I'd love it if you buy it (publicist would kill me if I didn't say that).  We've been working a lot on Henry's Hope too and helped quite a few kids this year, but so many more that need it.  Blah, blah.

Kristen and I spend a lot less "alone" time together.  Kristen is still hot, and thinks that I am.  We have managed to squeeze in some dates when we get a babysitter.  And that will be more frequent when we get respite care for Henry via the State Program here that Henry qualifies for.  Awesome program.  

On the friend front, mixed bag.  We have some great ones.  Found out we have a few fair weathered ones. And, some that we thought were friends, but never were.  Again, mixed bag.  Some people are great.  Some people really suck.  I know that I do sometimes.

We have and use our health insurance - frequently.  Henry and Luke both have the same condition, and so the doc appointments are plentiful.  But they let us combine them, which saves a lot of time.  They've had ups and downs (Luke is back in glasses but Henry gained weight last month).  But, all in all, they are happy.  So are we.  Everyday is an adventure.  Some days are great.  Some days suck.  But, we are happy with what it is.  Good enough for us!

Everyone's should be good enough for them too.  But if that happened, I wouldn't get these gems.  So torn.  Happy New Year!

Body Fluids - Whatever

By Troy Foster

This week, I saw a guy (30-year old or so) freak out because some kid sneezed and snot flew out of his nose.  Now, the guy - obviously not a father - was far away and just reacting in disgust to the fluids flowing from this kid's nose.

I used to be like that.  Grossed out by random body fluids.  Even the term is disgusting.  Now, we have four kids.  And I stay at home with them part-time.  Perspectives change.  I probably have a combination of snot, poop, pee, blood, vomit, bile, and saliva on this “clean” shirt that I just put on this morning. The beauty, however, is that if I spill anything on it – ever – (and I do mean anything) - I have four excuses.  CSI would have a field day with my clothes.

Before we had kids, I gave mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to an old dude that had a heart attack.  And, he threw up in my mouth.  (I cursed myself for taking that class for years.)  Of course, I did the right thing.  Spit out the throw up and kept going.  He died.  So, it was sad.  But, I was also disgusted that a stranger threw up in my mouth for nothing.

Now, that wouldn’t even phase me.  If anyone is going to have a heart attack, having it around me is the best bet, as I’ll have no hesitation about the mouth-to-mouth.  Can’t guarantee results though!


Next time, I plan to talk about the best way to get your kids thru a transcontinental flight without a peep.

"Stealing" the Marshall Papers

by Troy Foster

Is there a statute of limitations on this, I hope?  Anyway, here goes.  When I was in Washington, they released the papers of deceased (and first Black) U.S. Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall.  When they say “release,” they mean that they are under lock and key at the Library of Congress.  Only Members of Congress and their staffs could go sneak a peek – for the first few months.  So a friend (actually the Chief of Staff’s mother who I adored) and I took advantage.  It was pretty interesting.

As we left, the alarms beeped.  We looked around.  Nope, didn’t have anything.  The library staffer looked, and thanked us for stopping.  I was annoyed.  That night, I unpacked my book bag that I took with me to work.  In it, I found a two-inch stack of Justice Marshall’s handwritten notes.  What?  Of course, only the handwritten ones.  Perfect.

Without sleeping all night, my mission returning them began early.  I had thought of what I’d say, how I’d apologize, and planned it out.  Hoping not to get arrested.  I walked into the Library, signed in, and saw the papers in the same station where I left them – with no one there.  I sat down and unloaded them.  Then realized this was covert – so had to stay a bit pretending to read them.  One of the more nerve wracking, yet silly experiences in my life.


Next time, you'll read about odd job interview experiences.  Very, very odd.

My Newt Gingrich Story Involves Sweat - Not What it Sounds Like

Sweatin’ on The Speaker

by Troy Foster

Of the House, that is.  Many moons ago, I worked for a Congressman on the Hill.  When the House Republicans signed their “Contract with America,” it was a big buzz in Washington.  So, I decided to get my picture taken with the newly elected Speaker of the House, Newt Gingrich.  Signed up for a time and everything.  Then, so unlike me, I got lost in work and realized that I was late.  Late for the Speaker.

So, I booked it.  Me and running don’t go together – so, it was probably a sight.  I had to run two buildings over.  Only problem – it was hot and humid.  When I start sweating, I can’t stop.  So, I arrived, fully drenched.  The good news is that he wasn’t on time.  I stood and waited by these red, expensive looking curtains.  Realizing that I couldn’t wipe my sweat on my suit (without it being in the picture), I quickly wiped my head on the Speaker’s curtains.  Very absorbent.  I helped pay for them, right?  And it’s only sweat.


Got the picture!  Still looked sweaty.  Speaker Gingrich signed the picture, "Your friend, Newt."  I know that's his form, but it made me feel like my sweat incident wasn't an issue.  So in this close primary race, I have to say, that's a factor.  Not decisive, but who wouldn't want a friend that forgives (or overlooks) your social trespasses in the White House.



Next issue we'll cover how I accidentally borrowed THE Marshall Papers - and not on purpose.

"Super Parents" Need to Give Us Normal Parents a Rest

by Troy Foster

I love Christmas.  It's my favorite holiday for a lot of reasons.  Having four young kids makes the holiday and the lead-up extra special.  The magic of Santa, his reindeer, the trip down the chimney, and the story behind it all provides so much hype and buildup.  It's impossible to replicate the pure excitement and happiness on the kids' faces.  And, I love it.

But, I can't stand the "Super Parents."  Every year, there is something new and different about Santa that throws me a curve.  This year, my son's friends (many - not just one with parents that have nothing to do) got calls from Santa.  Seriously?  I barely get the phone when it rings, tripping over the kids' toys all along the way.  So the kids are satisfied in blaming me for missing St. Nick's call.  And, they are not happy.

Santa is apparently on a new health kick too.  My son's classmates are talking about giving Santa snacks that will help his energy level for the long trip and not junk food.  No cookies and milk?  Ok super health conscious parents, I am not killing Santa with the cookies.  Come on; we all know Santa isn't going to die from those cookies.  And, I'd appreciate you teaching your kids healthy eating on your own time.

And the reindeer now are hungry too?  We have to make special and magical oat mixtures for them?  I can barely get the kids' breakfast in them, get their faces washed and out the door.  Now, I'm making reindeer energy oats?  So they can poop on my roof?  No, we have plenty of poop in our house that I'm cleaning up.  The reindeer that our Santa uses have super duper energy and no oatmeal with glitter is necessary.  (And is glitter really healthy?)

Now, there's the Elf on the Shelf.  You know, the little Elf that watches the kids and reports how they're doing back to Santa?  Though he looks extremely creepy, we welcomed our Shelf Elf, Finn, with open arms - because pointing to him usually scares the beJesus out of the kids and misconduct becomes a rarity.  Heck, I was good with keeping Finn around for the entire year.  That was until the Super Parents decided to make him do stuff.  Now, I can deal with having him move from one shelf to the next each night.  Just barely though; and on the nights that we forget, the kids have bought the excuses (weather, he liked the spot, etc.).  But I keep hearing about other kids' elves doing all this crazy stuff.  Some go into the freezer because they miss the North Pole.  Some mischievous elves make huge messes in the middle of the night.  Some leave cute little videos of themselves walking around the house.  My son keeps emailing it to me.  There's even a website that lists the top 101 things that you can have the elf do.

Beyond ridiculous.  I don't have the time to make a huge freaking mess (when I'm supposed to be sleeping - and I need it by the way), pretend that it's cute first thing in the morning before my Diet Coke (which is necessary prior to any decent communication), and pick it up as I'm getting the kids ready.  Much less time to produce and post a movie of the doll walking around the house.  Finn don't play that way.  And a note to the Super Parents:  knock it off.  We need our rest.

More importantly, the kids don't need the extra.  It's plenty magical - even more so - when it's mysterious - without healthy Santa, the need for energy oats, calls from Santa, or Shelf Elf's gimmicks.  So please, Super Parents, give it a rest.  So we all can get some.

My Heart Breaks; Henry's Heart is Just Fine!

Henry and I just got back from his visit to the cardiologist.  It was a quick visit, he had a couple of tests, and is now at home while I do a little work.  

The good news:  His heart remains to be structurally sound.  He has a murmur and low blood pressure, both not biggies.  And he might have an arrhythmia – which wouldn't be a big deal either because the doctor reassured me that they can treat most with medications.  So, he is wearing a little heart monitor for a day or so.

With all of that good news, it's hard to believe that it was one of the most sobering and difficult appointments for me.  Maybe it's just me or maybe I was in a fog of denial because of the sleep apnea and now that I sleep . . . .  Anyway, it was the talk of the future that was difficult.  The cardiologist (and geneticist) put together a plan for Henry, what to look for, what to expect, and when to schedule his next appointment.  They said that we should anticipate that he will have cardiac issues given the severity of his deficiency and since the heart uses so much energy.  That he will continue to need more sleep, may become tired more easily, and may need to rest more regularly.  At some point, they will likely continuously monitor his heart and he might need oxygen (given that his lungs have shown issues and his oxygenation levels fall already).

But, not now.  That's for later.  And something we should be aware of.  For now, the cardiologist (Dr. Jeffries) said it best "this is about quality for Henry – packing as much good stuff in as we can – without going overboard."  So when I asked the question that Henry was dying for me to (could he play soccer), Henry looked up anxiously.  Jeffries, good with kids (or Henry at least), said "well, of course he can.  But Dad, he probably should be goalie or play on one end of the field because that's the most important position."  Henry smiled and looked to make sure that I heard the doctor.  And when he was again entranced in the TV in the room, Jeffries told me that exertion will wipe him out for longer and longer periods.  He's not concerned with his not being able to play for now – just that it will take a toll on him for the days that follow.  We already see that with visits and other fun stuff – but, it is so worth it.

And, Jeffries wants to see Luke again – another echo – probably every 6 months for him.  Older, asymptomatic mito patients get a little more attention, he told me.  They'll develop a plan for him too.

I'm all about planning and setting expectations, but today I just wasn't expecting it.  In looking back, all of the other "things" that Henry has have just snuck up on us.  His G-tube (now G-J tube); we know he'll have that forever.  His steroids/breathing treatments (doc said forever on that).  The medicines, his glasses, regular tests, treatments, and procedures.  Infusions of different medicines, etc.  It's just kind of grown on us.  Never thought I'd be pulling syringes out of my backpack or medical tape out of my pocket – instead of pacifiers or other kid crap.  Guess I would have preferred that the things in the future (heart monitors, cardiac meds, etc.) just grow on us too.  Looking ahead was too difficult today – maybe because I looked farther than Jeffries and team articulated – a place I refuse to embrace.  Never will.

To end with something fun, attached is a pic of Henry eating some black beans at Chipotle.  We love this place.  It's Henry's favorite, as black beans are 1 of 3 foods that he can eat - and Chipotle's are the best.  They are sponsoring a fund raiser for Henry's Hope next week; so, if we didn't love them already (we did), we do even more.  (For more information about the fundraiser, visit www.henryshope.org.)