Don't make me come over there.

Please don't touch your brother's penis (referring to Dexter, our dog).

Give me a break.

Mommy's nipple is not a handle.

Please don't poop on me.

Please don't pee on me.

Please don't hit the cat in the head with her food bowl.

Please don't bite me.

Shoes do not go in your mouth.

Please don't eat the grass.

Please don't eat the rocks.

Filing cabinets are not for standing on.

You are driving me crazy.

Books are not for eating.

Please don't touch the poop.

I'm sure I'll add to this list as I think of more.
How about you? What have you said to your children that you thought you never would?

Posted by torrie at 01:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (18)

So, after an MRI and several X-Rays my doctor has determined that I have adhesive capsulitis.

I wasn't exactly surprised, but I'm really upset about it.

I've been having joint and spine problems since I was 9 years old. No medical professional has ever been able to tell me why. There is no name for my disorder. It's just lots of problems with my joints and spine- loose joints- which caused me to have shoulder surgery almost 4 years ago, bursitis and tendinitis in my shoulders and hips, deteriorating meniscus in my knee, carpal tunnel syndrome, and 5 (at last count) herniated discs.

I'm used to being in pain every day. But, I always held out hope that I would find something to "fix" me. I thought if I did enough yoga, or acupuncture, or massage, or stretching, that I would be cured. I'm all for putting up a fight, but this latest diagnosis has made me realize that I can not be cured.
I will struggle with this for the rest of my life.

That's really hard for me to accept.

I'm only 32 years old, and I'm already in so much pain. The doctors marvel at how my body acts like it is twice its age. (Adhesive capsulitis is rarely seen in people under 50.) What will I be like when I'm 62, or 82? The thought terrifies me.

Do you know how heartbreaking it is to have a doctor look you in the eye and tell you that you will be in pain every day for the rest of your life?

Every day tasks that most people, myself included, take for granted have become a struggle. brushing my dog, doing the dishes, putting my hair in a ponytail, driving, making dinner- these are all things that cause me considerable pain. I can't go bowling, swim laps, play pool, play darts, or go white water rafting.

It hurts every time I pick up my child.

That has been the hardest part of all of this for me- it is keeping me from being the mother that I want to be. Instead of enjoying every minute with my daughter, I'm counting the minutes until my husband gets home so I can have a break.
Being in pain makes EVERYTHING harder. What is a quick trip to the store for most people is a huge undertaking for me- carry kid down stairs- load kid into car seat- drive- open back of car (we have an SUV and the back is really hard to open and close.)- wrestle stroller out of car- lift kid out car seat- buckle kid into stroller- close back of car-push stroller- open back of car- put shopping bags in back of car- unbuckle kid- put kid in car seat- fold up stroller- put stroller in back of car- close back of car- drive- open back of car- get kid out of car seat- pick up shopping bags- close back of car- try to balance kid and shopping bags while walking up front steps and opening door. It all hurts.

Pain shatters your hopes and dreams. It takes the fun out of everything. It makes life more frustrating. It leaves little room for patience.

Pain is robbing me of enjoying my child. I'm so angry.

My husband has been so amazing through all of this. He's so supportive. It must be so hard/ frustrating for such a young, vibrant, active guy to be married to a woman who can't do anything.
His fellowship is not what we thought it would be. He is working so much more. A minimum of 60 hours a week. He's working 7 out of 13 weekends. He's working this weekend, which means I won't really get a break until next weekend.
It's been really hard. We can't afford a babysitter. He leaves for work at 6am and comes home at around 7pm. Then he gives Willa a bath and puts her to bed. He eats dinner and them does the dishes or whatever other chores need to be done. 2 out of the last 5 weeks have been spent on night float. This means he leaves for work at 7pm, works all night, gets home between 9-10am and sleeps all day. Those weeks have been really hard for me- I get no break at all. Whenever he gets a day of the week off (usually because he was working all night) he watches Willa while I get an acupuncture treatment. If he's around on the weekends there are a ton of chores to do.
Both of us rarely get a break. I feel really bad for him. I feel like he really deserves a break, but so do I.
He has ten more months until he is done with his fellowship. Ten more months until his salary increases so we can hire some help. I'm counting the days.

The most important treatment for adhesive capsulitis is lots of physical therapy.
We really don't know what to do about this.
I should be going to PT 2-3 times a week, but I have no one to watch Willa, and we can't afford to hire a babysitter. My mother comes and stays with us every once in a while for a week or two, but that's not enough.
For now I'm going to do some research and see what exercises I can do at home.

Flare ups of adhesive capsulitis last 1-3 years. 40-60% of sufferers have some permanent loss of mobility.

I know that there are people who have it much worse than me, and that I should be grateful, but it's really hard to look on the bright side when you are in constant pain.
I have become Debbie Downer.
I'm no fun at all.
I try to put on a brave face- to grit my teeth and smile through the pain, but it's becoming increasingly difficult and I'm tired.

Posted by torrie at 09:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (15)

Today is the one year anniversary of my father's death.

I can't believe it's been a year. Similar to the way I feel about Willa's birth, part of me feels like my father's death was just yesterday, and part of me feels like it was ages ago.

Sometimes I forget and say "my father is" instead of "my father was".

The hardest part for me has been realizing that there are questions I have that will never be answered. Why did he do that? What was he thinking?
I'm not very skilled at letting go.

I realized that, as with every other uncomfortable situation in my life, I have been dealing with my dad's death by not dealing with it at all. I am the queen of avoidance.
And, in doing so, I have kept Willa's grandfather from her.
I should be talking about him with her. Telling her his likes and dislikes. Showing her pictures.
But, I'm not, because it hurts. That is not fair, and I vow to do better from here on out.

I might be hurt, but I am a mother first. I need to put my daughter's feeling's before mine.

And maybe, if I'm lucky, it will help me heal.

For those who are interested here is my father's obituary in the New York Times.

Posted by torrie at 09:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (19)

Several of you have asked me to update about Willa's modeling career so here goes-

Oh internet. The lessons I have learned from this experience.

I hope that when someone does a search for "should my baby model?" or "baby modeling" or "child modeling" they will find this post so I can tell them why it is a horrible idea.

Here's what no one tells you about the child modeling industry- IT SUCKS.

Here's how it works-
You are at the clients beck and call.
Every day between 3-6pm the agency would call to tell us if we had any go-sees (auditions) for the next day. This means that you can't schedule anything.
THEN, if your child gets the job they don't tell you that you have a photo shoot until the day before.
So basically, you have no idea what you will be doing the next day until the night before.
For someone like me, who like to make plans, this will make your head explode.

Another problem- go-sees and photo shoots are scheduled for all different times, and they very often would screw with Willa's nap schedule. Willa is about a thousand times more enjoyable when she gets a good nap, so it always sucks when she is thrown off her schedule. There are kids who are good at going with the flow, and do well even without a nap. Willa is not one of those kids.

There are so many other stressful aspects to child modeling-
The logistics can be a nightmare.
Because most subway stations are not stroller friendly I usually take a cab or my car to the auditions and shoots. I've spent countless hours driving around in circles trying to find a parking space. I've gotten so excited about finding a space only to discover I didn't have any quarters for the meter. I once paid $32 for 31 minutes of parking.
I can't tell you how many go-sees or photo shoots we have shown up to only to discover that the building has stairs. I've had to beg strange men to help me haul the stroller up and down stairs.
Until recently we lived all the way on the east Side of Manhattan, uptown, and 90% of the go-sees and photo shoots were down town and on the west side.

I once dragged Willa and my husband to a go-see on a Sunday and sat there for an hour only to be told that Willa didn't qualify because she couldn't stand unassisted(she was 10 months old).

Another time we went all the way down town for a go-see for a company Willa had worked for three weeks earlier. I assumed it was for a fitting, but instead, we walked in and all they did was take a polaroid of her.
I was super pissed- a company who had booked her three weeks ago and had head shots of her needed me to screw up Willa's nap schedule and make a two hour round trip so they could take a polaroid? I don't think so.

These companies have no respect for you or your child. They don't care about your child's schedule. They just schedule everything and expect you to be there.

Recently, a company called my agency at 6 pm and told them that they wanted 5 kids (including Willa) at 8am the next morning, all the way out on Long Island. I refused (as did most of the mothers of the other kids). I would have had to wake Willa up at 5am to get there on time, when she usually wakes up at 7-8am.
The woman from Willa's agency was practically in tears because this particular company did shit like this all the time, and here she was at 8pm making phone calls. The company gets away with it because there are plenty of parents who are willing to do ANYTHING to make their child a successful model. I am not one of those parents.

Another aspect that's weird, for lack of a better word, is that you very rarely get to see the pictures from the shoots. They don't send you copies. I've had to search them out. I spent a while last night searching the internet for pictures of Willa. It's kind of odd to know that there are picture out there in the world of my kid that I haven't even seen.

Willa doesn't get every job that she auditions for. I handle this really well because we're not doing this for the fame and fortune. But, some parents get very upset when their child doesn't get a job. If you are going to be disappointed every time your kid doesn't book something, then child modeling is not the business for you.

The modeling industry is a strange word. Once, when Willa was shooting for the cover of a major parenting magazine (they shoot 4-5 kids and then pick the picture they like best), they changed her outfit because they thought her arms looked chubby in the sleeveless top she was wearing. She was 11 months old at the time.

So, where do we stand now?

Well, Willa is still technically a model, but we do very little work.

She is now on "by request only" which means that I only take her to auditions for companies who have specifically requested to see her because they have seen her headshot. I don't take her on any more huge auditions, or as I like to call them "cattle calls". You have to work for a while and book several shoots before most agencies will let you do that.
Lately we've only been working 1-2 days a month, compared to a few months ago when there were weeks when we were working 4 days.
Also, to be honest, when Willa was younger she booked a lot, but now that she's a toddler, and still pretty bald, she's not booking as much. People expect a child of Willa's age to have a full head of hair.
We're in a good situation now because I feel comfortable saying no and picking and choosing what we do.

So to sum up- The baby and child modeling industry has a lot of flaws. It's a ton of work for very little reward.

Posted by torrie at 03:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (16)

I think I'm going to start living my life differently.

Maybe some stealing. Maybe some drugs. Definitely some debauchery.
No more helping little old ladies cross the street. No more letting cars cut in front of me.

Fuck that.

I have lived my life being a good person- even when no one was watching- and the universe insists on shitting on me. REPEATEDLY.

Posted by torrie at 08:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

I can't move my right arm.

OK- that's a lie. I can move it, but when I do it feels like someone shot me with a nail gun and then set my arm on fire.
Three and a half years ago I had shoulder surgery. It ended my career as a pastry chef.
My recovery was long and painful. The first eight weeks I could barely move my arm. I endured months of physical therapy.

I've had physical problems since I was a kid. My spine and my joints have been a constant problem. Nobody has ever been able to figure out why.
I'm so tired of constantly being in pain. It's exhausting. And it affects every aspect of my life.

My doctors, my husband, and my mother have used the word handicapped when referring to me.
I'm having a really hard time accepting that word.
There are people in much worse shape than me.

I might not "look" handicapped, but I can't do a lot of the things "normal" people do.
No bowling, playing darts, playing pool, rowing a boat, playing baseball, etc.
It hurts to put my hair in a ponytail.
It hurts to open a door.
It hurts to walk my dog.
It hurts to drive.
It hurts to pick up my child.

I started to have pain in my shoulder again a few months ago. I ignored it. I didn't tell anyone about it because I didn't want it to be real. But, in the past couple of weeks it had become unbearable. I toss and turn all night. Yesterday I reached for something on a shelf and I yelped out in pain.

I'm seeing my doctor in a couple of weeks. He will tell me what I already know- I need to have surgery again.

It was hard enough the first time- I really don't know what I'm going to do.
I won't be able to pick up my kid for at least 8 weeks. How do you explain to a toddler that you can't pick them up? You don't. She won't understand. Her feeling will just be hurt.
My mother will have to stay with us to take care of me and Willa. The problem is, we live in the suburbs now and my mother doesn't really drive. Also, she can't stay with us forever, and the first time I had surgery it was a good 5-6 months before I could really use my arm and lift things.
I won't be able to shower by myself, butter my toast myself, or get dressed by myself.

On top of all of this my husband's new job has been a nightmare. He's been working WAY more than they told him he would. He is at work at 7AM and if he's home by 7pm we're lucky because it means he gets to see Willa for a 1/2 an hour before she goes to sleep. He's working 5 out of 9 weekends.

We can't afford a babysitter. We can't afford a housekeeper.
I don't even know how I'm going to afford months of physical therapy (my insurance doesn't cover all of it).

How is my husband supposed to work a bare minimum of 60 hours a week (most weeks it's more like 80), and do all of the chores?

Also, I guess my photography career is over too. My shoulder can handle the shoots, but not the hours spent sitting at the computer editing. Even just sitting here typing this my entire right arm is burning.

This whole thing is a disaster.

There's no solution. There's no bright side.

Posted by torrie at 02:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (22)