I'm giving you excuses.

I've actually been... wait for it... too busy to post today. Not that I've been busy doing anything productive, really, but I've not had a chance to sit down and type because I've had a lot of children-in-my-lap time today. But I have had a few minutes to look around a little at some of my favorite sites (besides sesamestreet.org, which is not really my favorite, but is a big favorite of the 1 year old.)

Over at Awesome I found a link to a site that literally made me laugh at loud. Literally. Check it out - especially if you are someone who gets a giggle and/or nervous twitch when people misuse words.*

*(I'm thinking about you, Melissa. I don't know how you can stand to read what I write. It must pain you at times. But I'm very glad you stop by!)

Health insurance has not been my friend.*

I wrote a post for you on Monday that was all about yet another round with my health insurance company but I did not post it because I am either very lazy, or very busy. I'll let you determine which one it was. Also, I did not post yesterday for the same reason. But here it is, a post written two days ago:

Hi there!

How are you?

I am writing this whilst on hold with my health insurance company. And, amazingly, I am not having fun.

So far, the recorded voice that periodically comes on between the music has advised me on how to remember to take my medication daily. (Get pill holders with separate compartments for each day of the week.) Also, I've learned how to quit smoking. (I do not smoke, but if I did I now have helpful hints on how to stop.) And I've heard music. Bad music. Fun!

Once the music cut off again for yet another round of 'helpful hints', I was informed that I should help my children stay healthy during cold and flu season. (Who knew! I was trying to keep them ill. Silly me.) Then, oh then, the operator came on the line and it took me a minute to realize that it was an actual human being speaking.

Operator: "Thank you for calling Blue Cross and Blue Shield. My name is Heather, last initial J. May I have your name?"

Me: [...]

Operator: "Hello?"

Me: "Oh....sorry"

SO I found out that my health insurance company (Hello! I do not like you! But please continue to pay for our doctors visits and prescriptions, and please do not cancel yourself again! Thanks!) is screening all of my doctors fees from my bought with kidney stones for pre-existing conditions. Because there is a pre-existing clause in my policy, and they may be able to get out of paying it if they find sufficient cause. I'm just hoping they do not list having a kidney as a pre-existing condition. Because then I'm totally screwed. Also, I found out that my son's allergy medication will be expensive, no matter how much I try to talk them into paying for it.

Did I mention how much fun this is? To be not covered, cancelled and otherwise told to 'shove it' by your health insurance company? Yeah. You wish you were me, don't you.



*I'm done now. I won't talk about this anymore because I'm taking a deep breath and moving on from it all. And everyone's taking vitamins and walking around in full padding and helmets because we must stay healthy!

If you are a kid, do not read this. (And maybe some adults shouldn't either.)

At what point in time does Santa no longer become the person who leaves you presents?

Now, I'm not going to give away any sort of secrets here, because you never know the severity of heartbreak one may cause by 'outing' Santa. (And you never know who can read, and who can't.) But for those of you who know what I'm talking about... well, explain to me how this is all done. How does the 'outing' happen?

(Oh, I just know someone out there is going, "Santa's gay?")

(And if you are thinking that, my only reply can be - it depends on your Santa.)

I'm a little disturbed by the lengths some people go to during Christmas time. They get phone calls from the big guy, letters, pictures, etc... And not that I think anything is wrong with that, but I'm a little worried for the psyche of the child who believes with all their heart. I'm worried about the horrible feeling of betrayal they'll feel when they find out that Santa may not really be magical. (Not that I'm saying he's not! I'm not ruining anyone's Christmas here, guys! I said he MAY not be magical. MAY not be. Which means he MAY really be!)

I don't remember a definitive moment when it all came together for me. I don't know if it just wasn't a big deal for me, of if maybe I'm just blocking it all out because it was so mentally scarring. Regardless, I don't know how it happened in my childhood. Do you remember? Was it awful? Or was it just like, eh, whatever?

Because I'm a little afraid of getting myself in too deep around here, and stomping my tender-hearted children's hearts into the ground. I'm avoiding putting our name on the phone call list, and I sure as heck don't want to do personnal correspondence, lest they develop a deep relationship with someone who will later be 'outed' as not being anything close to what they thought 'he' was.

Or maybe I will never tell them the, um, secret, and put them in an isolated bubble for the rest of their lives.

Option two is sounding very good to me right now.

Amazing is

...Watching your son do jumping jacks perfectly, when in September he couldn't seem to get the whole hands-up-legs-out, and all-at-the-same-time thing down.

...Seeing your son go through his Tae Kwon Do routine without missing a beat.

...Witnessing your son breaking a board with his tender little foot.

Amazing.

Pictures and daily news.

I'm a little late in posting these pictures...


Here are the kids decorating the tree. Every year I string the lights and let them decorate the tree. And I think they do a wonderful job - I only have to rearrange a few ornaments. They've come a long way since the times when they would hang all of the ornaments on one or two branches. (And they used to laugh and laugh when I would get frustrated!)

And here's my ham of a girl and my ever-patient husband. (I swear she looks like she's much older than 5 here. And I don't like that one bit. Quit getting older, missy!)

And here is the living room during Decorating-Fest 2006. That's me over there - barely in the picture. And I'm sure I'm giving orders and bossing the kids around - because that's what I do best. (And Dad, note that white box down there. It has been with us since we moved from England.)

Pictures of the outside will come soon (maybe.) They are pending on the arrival of one inflatable snowman (or not.)

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Today's my daughter's Star Student day. She's actually been Star Student of the Week, but today is the day her Daddy goes in to talk about his job and eat lunch with her. And then, because he's a good Daddy, he's also staying to eat lunch with my son. (Their lunch times are back-to-back.) Also, my little girl is Student of the Month at her school. Not that I'm bragging or anything... but I think she's absolutely wonderful and I'm so proud.

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My son is testing for his new belt tonight in Tae Kwon Do. He was so excited, he couldn't sleep last night. So I'm a little worried that he'll be over-tired and sick to his stomach by the time 7:00 rolls around and it'll be time for him to test. So cross your fingers for him. And I think he's absolutely wonderful and I'm so proud of him too. (Not that I'm bragging or anything...)

Candy cane visions.

Okay, so you remember when I told you about the candy canes in my front lawn? Remember when I told you that I had bought more for the yard, bringing the candy cane count up to 20?

Well, I had a definite vision about where exactly to place those extra 10 candy canes. They would (of course!) go on the other side of the front porch to bring balance and symmetry to the display. Because the 10 we had out already were only on one side of the porch. So (of course!) we needed to put the other 10 on the other side.

Only (of course!) my husband did not share my vision. And so when I left the house to take my son to Tae Kwon Do last night (in his newly be-patched uniform) and said to my husband, "If you feel like getting ambitious..." and gestured to the new boxes of lighted candy canes, he took that to mean he could put them up wherever he wanted.

And he did. Wherever he wanted. He put the candy canes wherever he wanted. Which is exactly the opposite of wherever I wanted them. (Of course!)

So I tried to be a big girl and not whine about the candy cane placement. I am, actually, still in the process of trying not to whine. But there is no symmetry, you see, and I cannot take such madness. It is eating away at my very soul. Eating away at me, I tell you.

Edited to add: I did it. I changed them. (Of course!) I couldn't help it. I tried, I tell you, I tried really hard. But the part of me that wanted to just let it be was overpowered by the part of me that needs things to be balanced and symmetrical. (Let's hear it for OCD!)

(Sorry, honey, for what I've done to your candy cane vision. But remember, you married me willingly. And you knew about my craziness - or do I need to remind you about my cows?)

There are some things money can't buy.

Four patches for my son's Tae Kwon Do uniform: $8.00

Specialty sewing kit (because I can't find the needle and thread I already own): $5.00

Bandaids: $2.00 (for the sewing related injury)

Look of pure joy on my son's face when he saw that I had finally sewn on his patches: priceless

I'm hating the sewing, but liking the lights.

I'm taking a break from sewing my son's patches onto his Tae Kwon Do uniform. For the record, I can't sew, and I dislike it very much. Also, I dislike it very much. Ooops, did I say that twice? That just goes to show how much I dislike sewing. And I said it again. So there.

Also, for the record, we now have plastic candy cane lights on our front lawn. And some spiral-y tree thingies. Four of them, to be exact. And 10 candy canes. But we'll soon have 20 candy canes because I went to the store and bought more for the other side of the house.

Whooo, boy, we sure do know how to decorate for a holiday around here! Maybe if you're nice, I'll post pictures.

Did I mention candy canes? On my front lawn? Yeah baby!

What's happened during your day?

My day so far...

• We left the van door open last night. All night. And not only was there frost on the outside of the glass, but also on the inside. And a weird smell. I'm thankful that we live in a fairly safe neighborhood and that the van was still out there and in one piece when we woke up. But I'm not thankful for whatever it was that deposited that weird smell inside my van.
• I seemed to have lost one baby shoe, brown, size 12 months. He had it on when we went to drop the kids off at school, but I don't know for sure if he had it on when we came back into the house. All I know is that when I put him into the highchair for breakfast, he only had one shoe on.
• My friends Sara emailed me and told me to check Ebay for that Star Wars ship we didn't get last Christmas. And she was very nice in that she refrained from going, "Duh" in her email. Because, duh, who doesn't check Ebay for these kinds of things? But she did include a nice link to a specific auction, lest, duh, I can't find my way around Ebay.*
• I have forgotten to eat. Anything. And now I'm chewing on my own lip and wondering if Chapstick has any nutritional value whatsoever.

So... I'm off to scrounge for food in the kitchen. And I'm going to try to gather my wits and proceed on with my day in a calm manner. (I just love saying 'gather my wits', although I'm not even sure if I can use it correctly in a sentence. But you don't really care, right?)

*Nah, Sara would never say "duh" to me. And I don't really think she thinks I'm stupid. She just knows that temporary lapses of rational thought go along with the whole having kids thing.

Who knew - spending money makes me happy.

Yesterday made me so happy. So, so happy.

What did we do yesterday? We went shopping and bought our children's Christmas presents.

Every year I get stressed about what to buy them (and what to recommend to Santa) and we usually end up waiting until mid-December and have to run all over town to find what we want. And like last year, we end up emptyhanded; without the very coveted toy. Well, this year we had a good idea about what to get, and decided to, what the heck, go ahead and buy it all.

So we went shopping. At Target, nonetheless. We found gifts for the kids, and we helped Santa with his gift choices too. And now we are done, and I am peacefully, blissfully happy.

(Well, after I got over the sticker shock, that is.)

(Wow, how expensive can pieces of plastic get? I mean, really?)

But my husband, who should henceforth be known as spoiler of all children, is a little worried we didn't get enough. Because there is more out there that the kids would like to have. There is a lot more that we would like to buy! So I am trying my best to resist his brand of reasoning and stay strong. But sometimes when he argues that maybe they should have this-or-that, I want to give in.

Don't tell him that though, I've got a reputation as a mean-ass mommy to maintain.

Thanksgiving, a story in pictures.*

*Mostly because I'm too deeply ensconced in my post Thanksgiving sugar coma to come out and write much of anything.

Here is my first-grade pilgrim before his class's big feast. And at said big feast he ate exactly one portion of turkey and one roll. Feast on, big guy, feast on.

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Here is my kindergarten pilgrim at her class's feast. And feast she did, with a good portion of ice cream and apple pie to top it all off. And I'd like to take a chomp out of those cheeks, because they are so, so delectable.

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Here they are displaying the 'thankful turkeys' we made the day before. You can't get any better than crafts made from brown paper sacks.

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Hers says she's thankful for, "Family, friends, and my heart."

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His says he is thankful for, "All my teachers, family, friends, sunlight, electricity so we can cook food, video games, and stores."

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And here are me and my girl, as seen through the eyes of a 7 year old with a digital camera and an obvious desire to not get too close, lest the shine from his mother's forehead blind him permanently.

Enjoy your day.

There are so many things I am thankful for. I could go on for days if I truly got into the things that have blessed my life. So I'll leave it at this - I have wonderful people in my world (both close and far) who make my life something to be thankful for.

Thank you, you wonderful people, you. Thank you very much.

Sensitive.

My daughter has a big heart. She's a nurturer by nature, and she absolutely, positively loves things when others may just mildly like them. She's also tender-hearted, and yelling at her at the wrong moment may just cause her heart to break from the sheer meanness of it all.

So it should come as no surprise that she cries at sad movies. But she also cries at Spongebob movies. And that Arthur movie that came out recently. And a lot of other things that other people do not find sad in the least.

Well, yesterday before their Thanksgiving feast at her school, they sat all the children in a darkened room and turned on a movie to watch, as sort of a special treat for the children. And do you know what movie they chose to show the children? An American Tale. You know, the one with Fievel - where he gets lost from his family, and he is left all on his own to find his way? You know that one? Well, it is sad. And I arrived at the school to see my husband (who arrived earlier than me) out in the hall comforting my daughter. She was a wreck. Apparently, he peeked into her classroom to see her, and found her sobbing at the teacher's desk while they tried to make her feel better.

They're going to have to warn us if they're ever going to attempt to give my daughter a movie 'treat' again. Because this is a girl who cries every time Spongebob loses Gary, no matter how many times we've seen the episode - you can't break out Fievel on her without making her fall to pieces.

I feel like I'm famous.

A question of mine is featured over at Want Not today. And it makes me as giddy as a child who's getting candy.

(Speaking of candy... I'll be right back.)

(Mmmm, candy.)

Okay, back to what I was originally saying. Mir, from Woulda Coulda Shoulda, has a site called Want Not. She keeps track of sales and special offers and lists them throughout the day. If you've never been over there, go on and check it out.

I've gotten deals on several things she's written about, and there are several times that I'm tempted to buy things, but manage to restrain myself. (But you, you should totally buy all those cool things she features because I would like to enjoy a good deal vicariously through you. Thank you.)

Oh, anyway, if you are looking for a good gift for your children's teachers, go see her answers to the question that I asked. Now excuse me while I go do a little dance because she answered my question, y'all!

Grumpy.

Sometime in October I must have really pissed off someone important. Because I had that episode with kidney stones and an infection, I got a flat tire the day after Halloween, my health insurance was cancelled, and just yesterday my car battery died while I was waiting in the pick-up line at my children's school. (That was not fun.) Oh, and don't forget the rampant pink eye infections. Sheesh.

It's all managed to work out one way or another, but I still can't help wanting to just call it a do-over and make it all go away.

I wonder what else lies in store for me...

Weekend wrap-up.

This weekend we went to an IGA in a small town close to here. (Independent Grocers Association, for those of you who don't know.) There aren't many IGA's left out there. But we had a hot tip that the meat prices at this particular one were awesome. Like so awesome that it was worth a little extra drive once a month to buy a freezerful of meat. So we decided to check it out.

And, by golly, it was worth it. The meat was half the price of the stuff I buy at the local WalMart. So we bought some. Not a freezerful though. Our freezer is too busy being full of pizza and chicken nuggets to be bothered with something as trivial as good quality meat.

And folks, that was about my weekend in a nutshell. That was my excitement. Meat.

Oh, I also went out Christmas gift shopping. I wanted to get the friends and family who are far away all shopped for, so I managed to convince my daughter to go with me, and we hit the stores on Saturday. (I bribed her with chocolate. Works every time.) I did manage to get the majority of everyone shopped for.

The major success was the fact that I got over my obsession with gifts that have to be useful to the receiver, and I just bought some plain old frivolous things.

But you know, I still feel like gifts should be useful! Should be practical! Should have a purpose! (I think that being practical must be ingrained in my very being. That's how everything should be to me - practical.) I'm not so sure, however, that others feel that way. So I bought something pretty, with no practical use whatsoever, for someone. And I'm proud.

We're contagious.

Our house may have to have a quarantine notice posted on the front door. In fact, there may very well be one posted there as I type this.

[note to self: check front door for official notices]

Why the quarantine? Two words. Pink. Eye.

Oh yeah, the contagion of all contagions has breached our doorway and settled itself comfortably in my son's eyes. Both of them. (Fun!) And it looks like the 3 year old I babysit has got it started in his eye too. In fact, when I took my son to the doctor yesterday afternoon after having picked him up early from school, the doctor took a look-see at all of the children's eyes, just to be on the safe side.

[another note to self: try to refrain from taking 4 small children to the doctor's office again, as it was decidedly not fun.]

So if you're looking to get yourself out of any work/school/social obligations, stop on by our house and rub your hands on various child-height surfaces and then rub your eyes vigorously. Just ignore the quarantine notice on the front door.

Busy, busy, busy.

For those of you who are sitting around going What the heck, woman, why haven't you posted yet? Don't you know it's getting awfully close to lunch time? Well, y'all will have to wait. Because I just haven't had a chance to write anything. I've been too busy taking care of kids and doing some online browsing (time well spent, if you ask me.)

So in lieu of any actual writing, I'll leave you with this link: Typhoon. Go there. Do a little looking around, and check out there oh-so-cute pink vintage kitchen ware. I'm telling you, it almost makes me want to don this apron and a string of pearls and be a happy homemaker. Almost.

Anyway... another post to follow. Maybe this afternoon. Maybe tomorrow. Who knows?

The reason for my hissy fit yesterday.

So... What do you do when you realize that your health insurance company has cancelled your and your kids' policies? And that they've cancelled it before you had to go to all the doctor's appointments and receive that very expensive CAT scan? What do you do?

If you think you should call your husband in a panic and maybe yell a little and then maybe cry a little, then you and I think a lot alike.

So... Big surprise. My health insurance company cancelled my policy. And yes, they did it before my medical crisis.

And what's funny (but not so much HA HA funny) is that I did not get any notices that this was taking place until tonight. Which is after I found out by calling them this morning. Thanks for keeping me in the loop, you big doofus of a health insurance company!

But, don't fret. I think we've got it all straightened out. I'm not positive though, so don't breathe your big sigh of relief just yet. Just keep your fingers crossed that the lady on the phone who said it would be no problem to fix, we just needed to send in a letter and then they could reinstate our policy and back date it to cover all of my medical crisis bills, is correct. (Well, the percentage of the bills that they would have paid before, anyway. Sure do wish it would cover them all, though.)

But you know, it kind of irks me that they make the mistake, and I've got to be the one to write a letter to fix it. Also, I've got to deal with all the doctor's offices who will inevitably be calling me because I obviously lied about being insured. (Well, that's what they'll think, won't they?)

Stupid, dumb health insurance!

(And I'm using my nice words.)

Also, thank you to Sara for sending me an 'I'm being supportive' comment. She's the kind of friend who will join me in my name calling fest before even knowing why she's doing the name calling; the kind of friend who just needs to know that you are upset and she will stand by you, and it doesn't even matter why. That's a good kind of friend to have.

Today I'm trying to be diplomatic.

I don't think I can write a post today without starting to yell. And also I'd probably start foaming at the mouth, and sputter and spit. So I'll save you the grief. I'll just say that I really have a very strong dislike for Blue Cross and Blue Shield. A very, very, very strong dislike.

He loves him some games.

My son, who could easily start a club called Future Gamers of America, has discovered Video Mods on MTV2. They're music videos using video games instead of the band. As in, sometimes they just use scenes from the games, and sometimes they make it look like the characters are actually singing/playing the song. I have to admit, some of them are pretty cool. If you've got some time to kill, go see some of them. My son's particular favorites are "Save Me", "I'm Not Okay", and "Take Me Out". Oh, and also "DOA", which I've managed to find on YouTube:

Let the frantic begin.

So... Have you looked at a calendar lately? You, you probably have. Or you are at least aware that because it is November, the month of December will be coming soon. Very soon, in fact.

But me, I had no idea. I mean, yes, I know that December follows November. And I've been aware of that fact for a good long while now. But what I didn't realize, in my head-in-the-sand sort of way, was that we are practically in the middle of November, and that (holy crap!) Christmas is only a couple of pay days away.

Let me say it again: Holy crap!

I haven't even started shopping yet. Nor have I even made a preliminary list of things to shop for. I haven't even begun looking. Unless you count seeing an item on sale and idly wondering if so-and-so would like that particular item. Otherwise, I am wholly unprepared.

And my kids would graciously like one of everything, please. Which leaves me with the decidedly un-fun task of weeding through all the crap (oops, I mean new toys) available. Curse you Nickelodeon! You and your darn commercials!

So wish me luck. I am going to start with Toysrus.com, and work my way through all the 'must haves'.

P.S. - Curse you too, Lego, for making all those Star Wars ships in teeny, tiny Legos and then charging an arm and a leg for them. I mean, I would love to buy them for my son (even though I seem to be the only one physically able to put the darn things together here in our house) but you make it very hard on me when you price them like this.

Luckily he does the sprinkler.

Do you remember when I wrote about the baby who likes to throw remotes into various household receptacles? (No? Then go here.) Well, the baby struck again. Let me backtrack a little...

Sometime yesterday morning I noticed that the remote for the TV was missing. No big deal, I thought, I'm sure I'll run across it later. But as the day went on, I didn't find it. So I started to worry. Because while that specific remote is not necessary for our daily TV watching (the cable remote is responsible for that,) it is necessary for switching the TV to 'Video 1' mode so that we can watch DVD's.

I eventually found myself crawling around on my hands and knees, searching any nook and cranny available to a 1 year old looking to stash a remote control. I looked in the pantry, the closet, under all the couch cushions, the furniture in both the front room and family room, under the oven, in the toy boxes, and even in my purse. No remote.

It was then that I stood up, very frustrated-like, and eyed the kitchen trash can. No, I thought, surely not the trash can. But because I had nowhere else to look, I decided to dig in. Literally.

At first I merely lifted the trash bag from the can and tried to see all it's contents by peering through the white plastic. Unfortunately, I couldn't see everything, and I was getting more and more positive by the minute that this is where the remote was. So I placed the bag on the back patio, and with an audience of two (one 3 year old and one 1 year old who, I swear, smirked at me,) began to dig into the trash bag.

Luckily for me there were no dirty diapers in there, Also, no leftover oatmeal. This bag contained mostly school papers. (By the by, do not tell my kids that I threw away some of their school papers. They want me to keep every single thing. Every. Single. Thing.) And also, it contained one TV remote, slightly soiled. At the bottom. Of course.

This baby is going to be the death of me. None of my kids threw things into the trash can. Or into the toilet. Lucky for him he makes up for it by periodically doing a little dance that looks an awful lot like 'the sprinkler'. And how can I resist little baby sprinkler dances?

Morning news - in order of priority.

What does it say about me that when I logged on to the Internet this morning and saw that Britney Spears filed for divorce from her husband, I wanted to call someone up and tell them the 'good' news? How does that little tidbit of information reflect on me personally? Oh, who gives a flip how it reflects on me. Let us be happy for Britney and hope that she can claw her way out from the pit of doom that marrying that, that, man (let us call him that to give him the benefit of the doubt) thrust her into. Let's rejoice, people, because this is the kind of news I can get behind.

In other news, we had an election. And if you'll excuse me, I will now go find out who won.

Thank goodness they'll finally stop calling after today.

*phone rings*

Me, checking caller ID: "Ignore it. I think it's another one of those political recordings urging us to vote for them. You know the drill, "the fate of the country rests in your hands and you will ruin everything if you don't vote for me."

Husband: "You know what we did wrong, don't you? We registered to vote. That's how they got our phone number. No one ever called us before, when we were unregistered."

Me: "Well, damn, if I'd have known it would mean several phone calls a day, I never would have registered in the first place."

Bullets on Monday.

This Monday snuck up on me. I really wasn't ready for it. I feel like I skipped a weekend day, and was just thrown into Monday unprepared. Although, I'm not really sure what kind of preparation I needed - I knew it was Sunday yesterday, and that today would be Monday. But still... unprepared.

Also, I am unprepared for a blog entry today. I have a couple things I think I could tell you about, and have even started a couple of different entries, only to erase them. I just can't find a way to string the words together to tell a story. My thought are jumping all around and it all comes out in a very jumbled and uninteresting way. So today - bullets:

• We decorated a paper turkey this weekend. It was supposed to be a "family project" for my son's class, but my husband and I did it all. Well, we let my son put the googley eye on the turkey. But that was it. In fact, my husband and I not only worked on the project all by ourselves, but we also whisked it away from the kids once we were finished, lest they put their little fingers on it and mess anything up. If his teacher was hoping to foster family togetherness with this project, boy did she miss the mark here in our house.
• The time change has really screwed with my sleep/wake rhythms. As soon as it is dark, my body wants to go to bed. Seeing as how it's dark here a little after 5, it really is not working out well for me. And I'm waking up way too early. It's messing me all up, to say the least.
• I'm sick of taking my daughter to dance class. And she's sick of going. But neither of us wants to be the first one to say "quit" because I don't want to disappoint her, and she doesn't want to disappoint me. And also, I want her to learn to see things through to the end, not just quit things as soon as she thinks she may be bored with them. But honestly? I'm bored to death with it and want her to quit.
• And the fourth thing, well, is that I don't have a fourth thing. I just feel like I should have more to tell you.

I hope your Monday didn't sneak up on you. It really sucks when it does.

I guess I have to say no to drugs.

The doctor gave me a prescription for pain. Perc0cet*. And seeing as how I've been in a lot of pain recently (see: kidney stones and infection of something-or-other,) I've taken it a few times. But only three times, to be exact.

Why only three times? Because the darn stuff gives me headaches.

Yes, headaches. I wake up in the morning feeling like I want to die. The pain from my abdomen isn't bothering me as much. No, the throbbing, head is going to explode feeling distracts me from any other pain that may be lingering. So in that case, I guess the perc0cet is working well - I'm not even feeling the kidney stone pain.

I'm disappointed because there goes my life as a suburban mom hopped up on painkillers. There goes my appearance on Oprah where I talk about how addicted I was and how the one time I endangered my children lives while high on painkillers made me realize that I needed help. There goes my stay in rehab. And also the book I would write explaining my horrible descent into the drug trade and my subsequent rise above it all. I get none of that now.

And you know, part of me wonders why it is I cannot even take a simple painkiller without having some sort of reaction to them. What is up with me?!?


* I spelled it like that - with a zero instead of an o - because I don't really want a lot of hits on my site from people google-ing names of painkillers. I averaged 3 hits a day from google searches of being Boo-ed, so I can't even imagine what kind of hits drug names will get you.

Random-y randomness.

You know, I have to say, thank God for my husband. He's the one who, while going through a very stressful time at work, took the time to handle the whole flat tire debacle for me. (Which happened because of a rock. Evidently, it was a very sharp, very determined rock that left a hole in my tire that was too big to be patched.) He soothed me when I was at a breaking point, called a company to come get my van, and handled the subsequent phone calls from the tire people. He even talked them into delivering the van back to my front door once it's all finished. When I'm down for the count, he steps in and gets things done. What more could I ask for?

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Anyone out there want to buy cookie dough? My kids are selling it for their school. And it looks like I'm going to have to buy a whole bunch of it. My husband has already taken it to work and strong armed people into buying some. (Oh, did I say strong armed, I meant asked nicely.) I'm turning in the order forms tomorrow, so let's get those orders pouring in quickly people!

And don't be surprised if you get cookie dough from us for Christmas.

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The one year old I babysit has figured out that things dropped into the toilet make a very satisfying ker-plop sound and a giggle-inducing splash of water. It's fun for him, but not so much fun for the person who has to fish various things out of the toilet. That person, of course, being me.

His latest victim? The remote control to the TV upstairs. And I'm thinking that its time to go buy a new remote because I'm not lying in bed watching TV while using a remote that was recently brought out from the depths of the toilet. Also, do they make any waterproof ones?

I have since learned to keep the toilet lids down, and he's moved on to the kitchen trash can. Which has a lid that swishes back and forth whenever he throws something away. He's learned (smart boy!) that the heavier the object, the more swishing the lid does. And his favorite victims? Guess. Yes, remotes.

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So far today is coming along nicely, and I hope your day is too. I think there was a rash of not-so-great days yesterday, based on emails and a comment I received. Here's wishing you a better day today! And if all else fails, I recommend my husband as the man to call if you want to get things done.

And now, the pictures I promised earlier...

Medieval Princess Extraordinaire:

And Darth Vader:

Worst Day Ever and cute pictures.

Well, it's November 1st and I'm going to officially name this the Worst Day Ever. (Okay, so maybe I exaggerate a little... But not too much.) Why is today so awful? The list is long. First, I still feel awful. In addition to the kidney stone and infection pain, I now have a migraine headache. But wait, there's more. Also, I drove the kids to school with a flat tire. Yes, you read that right, a f*cking flat tire. So now the van is sitting in the driveway (because I drove the damn thing all the way back home) and I am just seething. Because all I can think is that it was some sort of Halloween prank and it's going to cost us more money than we have. And the seething is not helping my headache. And let's not forget the kids, who are all crazy and grumpy and suffering from sugar hangovers. (Except my son, who does not eat candy. He's just grumpy from lack of sleep because he seems to have decided that sleep is highly overrated and he does not need any. I beg to differ.) Oh, and my poor husband is working on a project for work that has everything going wrong, and has him tossing and turning at night, dreading going to work the next day. He thinks this could be the Worst Day Ever too.

And now it won't let me post the pictures. Apparently, my day will suck even more.

Party at the Clubhouse.

They look so calm...

Okay, that's more like it!

The two E's

Come back.

The kids are off of school today. And I've got lots of halloween related crafts that I want to do with them. If I was smart, I would have written a post this weekend to put up here today so you wouldn't have to see the I feel bad post from Friday. But I'm not that smart. And I have nothing for you today - but I didn't want anyone to think that I was huddled in bed clutching onto the last little bit of life left in my pain-ridden body. Nor did I want any are you okay phone calls, so I'm posting this bit of midless drivel to say, in a long-about-way, that I'm okay (still hurting but not dead,) and I'm busy.

Tomorrow, though, I've got pictures for you. So come back then.

It's back.

So you know when I had that fever and back pain or the second time this past weekend and ended up at the urgent care clinic and also got sent to get a CT scan that said it was maybe a kidney stone that they think has already passed? Well, the fever and backache were back last night. So that kind of blows the whole it-was-a-kidney-stone-that-caused-the-pain theory right out of the water. It looks like something else is still infected, hence the fever.

So I've made an appointment for next week at my regular doctor and my husband and I decided that if the fever is back today or tonight, it's back to urgent care for me - we won't even wait for the appointment next week.

But rather than turn this whole blog into a How I'm Feeling Today blog, I'm just going to leave it at that and hope I can come up with something totally off of the subject of any illnesses to blog about later.

Happy Friday.

Test results.

After much hassle and a phone call in which I may or may not have called someone incompetent (in my defense, I didn't really mean it. I just wanted to get her to, you know, do her job,) I have finally found out what is wrong with me. A kidney stone. Which, y'all, seems to be the thing around here. I guess I didn't want to be left out.

At least, that's what they think it was. Because there seems to be a small something-or-other mineral in my bladder. I'm holding the results of my CT scan here in my hands, and it says, "The possibility of a recently passed stone within the bladder must be considered." So it's a possibility. Bah.

But here's something interesting, the results also show a "low density area in the anterior spleen." Which means I'll have to go get my spleen checked out. Because while it most probably is nothing, there is that darn possibility that it could be something.

Additionally, the results say that my lung bases, liver, pancreas, adrenal glands, kidneys, abdominal wall, lumbar spine, aorta, retroperitoneal structures, and uterus are "unremarkable". What I think would sound much nicer is if they would say they are "quite remarkable indeed, and thankfully they have absolutely nothing wrong with them." Heck, I'd even like it better if they said they were just "normal". But "unremarkable" makes me feel kind of sad.

So now I've got to go back to my doctor and get my blood and urine retested to make sure I don't have any more signs or infection.

Now excuse me while I go google 'spleen' because I have no idea what in the heck that particular organ does.

Mmmmm, candy.

Recently I ate enough candy pumpkins (think candy corn in pumpkin form) to make myself sick. You would think that being an adult would prevent me from making such an error, but no, it did not. However, like a rat in a science lab that avoids the lever that gives him an electric shock, I did draw my hand away quickly today when I automatically reached into the cabinet for some more of those pumpkins. Ah ha (!), I have learned my lesson, I thought. I know better! So instead, I reached for the candy corn. Eh, I never said I was smart.

While we're on the subject (said subject being candy, not my lack of smarts)...

I've been browsing the Halloween candy aisles as of late. I've been doing what I call a 'pre-shop' in that I am seeing what is available and how much it all costs. You see, I have a dilemma on my hands. Should I buy the cheap candy and go for quantity - to be sure I have plenty of candy for the millions of trick-or-treaters that will descend upon our house? Or should I go for quality and bypass the Smarties and Dum-Dums (Ha! Those names! Do they cancel each other out?) and instead buy good chocolate? I'm not sure which is the graver offense - not enough candy or crappy candy. The decision making process has my mind just plain shutting down, and I have yet to buy anything. I'll be the lady who goes out on Halloween night and buys whatever the heck they have left. That is my lot in life.

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And for those of you who are interested (Hi!) I have yet to get any results back from the CT Scan. So I'll let you know when I hear something.

Pumpkins.

That's my boy (in the middle) on his field trip to a local pumpkin farm. They also had a place where the kids did gemstone mining, a huge slide and a children's play area, an obligatory hay ride, and ponies.

He had a wonderful time and came home with a very nice pumpkin that is now sitting in the front yard. However, the whole trip was like taking a weeks worth of allergy medicine and throwing it out the window. He was red and itchy and runny-nosed when I picked him up from school that day, and is finally just getting back to normal.

Well, his allergies don't seem to be doing that badly, but the cold that he's catching from his sister (who swears she's on her death bed) is making him runny-nosed and red too. I tell you, I can't win.

Oh, and I've got that pesky CT Scan today before lunch. And I can't eat anything and have to drink 40 oz of water before the scan. Talk about kicking a person while she's down.

(That enough complaining for you today? If not, I think I could do more...)

How I spent my weekend.

So what did you do this weekend? I hope you enjoyed yourself.

Me? Well, I had a good Friday evening - we had my husband's little sister (I say little, but she's 21) over for dinner, and played XBox and laughed out hearts out.

Then by the time she left, I was feeling a little feverish. And the back pain that had plagued me a couple of weeks ago was suddenly back, along with the fever. It was then that I knew that something was wrong.

Saturday morning I felt a little better. I decided not to go to the doctor, but promised my worried husband I would make an appointment for sometime this week. Because sudden back pain (so low down on my back that he jokingly called it my a** pain) and a high fever are not just normal occurrences. Anyway, Saturday we went about our day and had a nice time.

By Saturday night, I felt terrible. The fever, it was back. And, oh boy, did my back hurt. I awakened several times that night in pain and tossed and turned. When I took my temperature at about 6 AM and it was way over 102, I knew I was not doing well. And I had the worst headache ever. Oh, and then I threw up.

So Sunday was spent at the Urgent Care getting x-rays, a urinalysis, and blood tests. They confirmed that I seem to have a bacterial infection in some sort of organ in my lower abdomen/back. I also had blood in my urine (didn't you want to read that? Too much information?) but they didn't know exactly what was wrong. So they are going to make an appointment for me to get a CT scan, hopefully today.

They also told me that if it happens to be my appendix, and it bursts, to go to the emergency room. (Really? I wouldn't have guessed that.) And I got a prescription for Darvocet. He didn't want to give me anything stronger in case I did have something burst/break and I was too out of it to know. To which I say, Ha! Also, they didn't give me any antibiotics because he didn't want anything to get less inflamed until they did the CT scan. Hmmph.

So I had fun. Did you?

For. Real.

So I found myself over at mimi smartypants catching up on all the posts I've missed since I last read her hilarious writing, when I came upon a post written at the beginning of the month. I didn't even finish reading the post, because she linked to this : abstinence outlet, and I clicked my way on over there to see what the heck it was all about. I mean, with that title, who could blame me?

What did I find? A site that I truly thought was some sort of joke at first. (And, oh, what does that say about me that I thought this could only be the work of some comic genius?) But after clicking my way around the bestsellers and gift items, it slowly dawned on me that they were serious.

Seriously, people are walking around with things called, for example, the VD Mood Pencil, STD Crab and Eros Eraser. And with (my goodness) the Single Woman's Prayer Mug in their cabinets. (Don't worry, there is also a men's version.) Oh, and of course there's the bestselling Abstinence Rose Pin.

Wow.

I mean, for real?

Now without extra teeth.

Here he is - the boy who lost his first tooth at age 7.

(he's punching the air, which seems to be his new favorite photo pose)

And he was not going to pull that sucker out, no sir. He didn't want to wiggle it in the slightest. Instead, he waited until the permanent tooth he had growing behind it pushed that little baby tooth right on out. Literally. I saw the tooth barely in his mouth on Sunday, and we bribed him with lunch at a restaurant if only he would let me pull that tooth. So I reached in there and gave it a gentle tug upwards. And it just lifted right out. I do not think it was even still attached to anything.

And you can finally see it in this blurry close-up - [mental note: learn how to use camera correctly] the shark-like tooth that was growing behind the baby teeth. It's still got another tooth in it's way, so it cannot move up, front and center, until that tooth is gone too.

(notice daughter's perfectly perfect teeth (the dentist told her so!) in the background)

At this rate, he'll have all of the baby teeth out by the time he's 16 or so.

Oh, and the tooth fairy did visit him. We convinced him he should put the tooth in a ziploc bag so it wouldn't get lost underneath his pillow. We were thinking it would be easier for the tooth fairy to grab if it was in a bigger container of some sort. But the tooth fairy cursed a mean streak when she went in for the child's tooth late that night, and instead of a nice quiet retrieval, she was met with a noisy plastic bag. A bag which caused the child to toss and turn and mumble things in his sleep. And the tooth fairy was madly trying to come up with excuses for her presence if the child indeed woke up. Thankfully, he didn't awaken. Yet the tooth fairy feels that we should come up with a better tooth container so as to avoid the problem in the future. I'm wondering if it would be a major faux pas if the child put the tooth in a box, say, on the bookshelf. Or maybe just outside his bedroom door. I need to check into that...

My son awoke on Monday morning to see that the tooth fairy had turned his tooth (ziploc bag and all) into a dollar bill. When I suggested that maybe, just maybe, she traded his tooth for a dollar, or maybe even bought it off of him for a buck, he scoffed. "The tooth fairy," he explained to me, "is magical and she magically turned my tooth (ziploc bag and all) into a dollar." Then he nodded his head as if to say, yep, that's the only explanation possible.

Links suck.

Well, I was going to give you a little something this morning - in the form of a Get Fuzzy comic - but Blogger wouldn't let me upload pictures. (F you Blogger!) So I'll give you a link instead. I know, I know, it's not what you were hoping for, but at least it's something.

(I could identify with Satchel on this one - just replace kids with Bucky, and you get the idea.)

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The boy lost his first tooth on Sunday. And I have pictures of his mouth! Aren't you excited?!? But, alas, the whole not letting me upload photos thing is keeping me from posting them. I'm going to keep trying (because I'm a sucker like that.)

Coming Soon: Photos of the Boy's Mouth

Because sometimes I feel like I take a hundred steps back for every one I take forward.

So, how do you deal with problems that bring you down? (Besides, well, solving them.) How do you deal with the things that life throws at you that can't be solved, just endured? Oh heck, how do you also deal with problems that can be solved, but you just don't feel like putting forth the gargantuan effort it takes to solve them? How, I ask, how??

I deal with them by sticking my fingers in my ears and lalala-ing until the problem is not standing right in front of me, waiting to be dealt with. In short, I ignore. And ignore. And ignore.

The only problem with that tactic is that there are some things that do not solve themselves; Some things just don't get better with time and lalala-ing. And those things have a way of compounding, and then before you know it, you are shouldering a mountain's worth of problems on your very weary shoulders.

And sometimes that mountain's worth of problems will make you ache. Or it will give you a raging case of insomnia. At least, that's what happens to me. Take right now, for instance. My back is aching. (Other times it has been my head. And my wrist. And even my neck.) Also, I have been using copious amounts of Tylenol PM to get a little bit of sleep at night. And being the astute person that I am, I often don't realize I am lalala-ing my problems until my body comes forth with a new ache and I suffer from many sleepless nights.

So, you know, I have found that ignoring things is not really the way to go.

Nope, not so much.

(Who would've thought?)

What do you do? How do you keep the bad things that happen from getting to you? How do you deal with being just plain unlucky at times? I'm asking because I really don't think that Tylenol PM will be the answer to my problems for the long term.

No more mornings.

Tuesdays and Thursdays have become crazy days for me. No, not mentally, although if you think I'm literally crazy on Tuesdays and Thursdays, you may be on to something. No, I mean crazy as in I drive all over town and have a lot of things to do.

On Tuesday and Thursday I take the little boy I babysit to preschool. He goes for 3 hours in the morning. Why would he go to preschool when he has a perfectly good babysitter? (Yes, that would be me, and I am good, so hush.) He goes so he can experience the whole socializing thing. You know, spend three hours whining with other three year olds. Oops, I meant playing - playing with other three year olds.

During that time he's in preschool, I just have the one child with me. (Just one child is so nice; so freeing.) And since he's barely walking, I can strap him into a stroller or shopping cart and head out to get things accomplished. (I can get things accomplished!)

But throw in all the time required to feed a one year old, the time required to get all the children out of the door in the morning, a nap time or two, afternoon lessons, and way too many potty trips and all of a sudden you have a crazy, hectic day. So there it is: the reason why I haven't been posting in the mornings.

Phew. All that typing to tell you not to expect morning posts on those crazy days. I really must look into learning how to be succinct.

Boo!

I've been spending way too much time on the computer lately. The weather has turned cooler (if you count being in the 70's cooler) and I told myself I would get out more; spend all the time I could outside before it turned rainy and cold.

And that's what I did this morning. That is, until the children I babysit grew very tired of walking and riding in the stroller and begged to go back home. Well, one begged, the other fell asleep in the stroller. These kids nowadays, they have no stamina! No grit!

So now I'm back in front of the computer while one child sleeps (comfortably in his crib now) and the other catches up with his missed TV time. But not me, I will not give in! I have the windows open and am enjoying the lovely little breeze that is blowing through the house.

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This weekend we had the strangest thing happen to us. I say strange because it is very out of the ordinary in the world that my husband and I are from. Some of you, on the other hand, may think it is very commonplace and maybe even fun. My husband says Bah! to your fun.

You see, we were Booed. That's right, Booed.

What's Booed? It's when someone rings your doorbell and runs, leaving a Halloween treat bag on your doorstep. With this treat is a little paper ghost that says, "I've been Booed," and a note telling you that you have been visited by the Halloween Phantom and that you must post your ghost on your door to ward off more visits from the Phantom and, also, you must Boo 2 other people within 48 hours.

That's right, it's a chain letter in candy and prank form.

When our doorbell rang at 8:30 at night on Saturday night, we were immediately suspect. No one rings our doorbell at night. It's just not done! I was upstairs assisting my son with his various lotions and such (see: eczema, the suffering of) and left my husband and daughter to answer the door. Well, when the doorbell rang my daughter yelled, "I'll get it!" To which my husband replied, "No! It's late! I'll get it!" And he opened the door.

There on our doorstep sat an orange plastic pumpkin with a note sticking out of the top. Upon seeing the pumpkin, and no accompanying person, my husband immediately thought it was a prank; a bad prank committed by teenagers (and we all know teenagers are the dregs of society.) (I jest.) (But I'm still scared of them.) Anyway, my husband sent my daughter back inside while he patrolled the front of the house. He didn't see anyone.

Had he seen anyone, they surely would have been sorry for ringing our doorbell. I think he would have chased them down and maybe even beaten them to a bloody pulp. For you see, ringing a doorbell and running is not a good thing where he comes from. It is a thing that means someone is sure to meet you at the door with a shotgun and you would be very lucky if they even opened the door first instead of firing a shot right through the front of the house. It's a good thing we don't have a shotgun handy, is all I'm saying.

Soooo, anyway... he finally saw that the plastic pumpkin was indeed not a bomb (or filled with, um, anything icky, but instead candy) and brought it into the house. He read the accompanying note and saw that it was meant to be a fun thing; a nice surprise. (Okay, maybe he didn't see it that way at all. Maybe he was very angry and worked up and maybe even scared my daughter so much about the whole thing that she burst into tears. And maybe I had to calm him down by telling him it was supposed to be fun and maybe I shot him evil looks over the children's heads.)

But maybe it would not be a good idea to Boo us next year. Maybe.

Taken over.

Hello,

I'm E's funk.

And I am back.

She may think I have gone away, but I will take over at night when she finally has a moment to let her mind wander. I will cause her to want to quit her job (the one she works at for 50 hours a week.) I will also cause her to want to quit her other job (the one she works at from the time she wakes up until the time all the kids are sound asleep, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.) I will make her feel very tired and unimportant. I will also give her too much to worry about. That is my job, and I am good at it.

Now if you will please excuse me, I have to get back to work.

Down with the funk.

I have been in a funk the last couple of days. It was just enough to make me feel kind of scared about how 'funky' I was feeling and whether or not I was slipping down the slippery slope of depression. But no worries. Today I have found myself back in happy territory, and I'm very glad that my bad mood was just an itty-bitty thing for me. It has been a while since I've felt myself get so restless; since my mind has raced into the regrets/wishes/woe-is-me territory. I'm glad it seems to be over.

And today I went over to Rockstar Mommy's site and read a post that put all I had been feeling into words. (Much better words than I could come up with, too.) So I'll give you a part of it that struck home with me, and then you can get yourself on over there to read the rest:

"I hate to use the word depression for two reasons. One, because I think it's an extremely abused term - anyone with a hangnail nowadays is automatically depressed, medicated, and sent back into the world with a band-aid over their hearts and a button that says, SUCK IT, TOM CRUISE. And two, because I'm not depressed. I have a long history of depression, going back to as young as twelve years old, so I know what depression is. This isn't it. But, whenever I feel myself slipping into some sort of funk, it always frightens me. It could be, and most likely is, nothing. I could just be stressed and overextended like every other normal adult. But when you've been through depression -true, abysmal depression- even the slightest of mood shifts can be terrifying. After you've been there and back, it feels like you spend the rest of your life scared of running too fast because you know how hard the fall is."

The Queen and Obi Wan's Shadow.

My daughter is now Queen of Everything.

(Yeah, I didn't know it either. Apparently she was crowned Queen and no one else was told. Maybe we all missed the memo. Or maybe she needs new publicists. But either way, it happened and now you know.)

She informed me herself of her new position in life. I had asked her if she was Queen of Everything, thinking she would say no, she wasn't. Imagine my surprise when she said she was indeed Queen. And I thought to myself, well then, I guess you may continue on being bossy seeing as you are the Queen and all. She also informed me, in a very regal manner, that everyone should listen to her and obey her.

And then she made a series of proclamations that involved her brother giving her all of his toys, the children I babysit not being allowed to make noise, and me making her chocolate milk and eggs on demand.

(She's gotten very good at making proclamations.)

All of which prompted my son to say, "It's like living life in Obi Wan's shadow."

(I'm not really sure what he meant by that either. But it sounded so cute when he said it in such a serious voice.)

Woe betide the bored blogger.

I've started 2 different posts already this morning, only to delete them with a quickness. I just don't have much to write about today. I'm in a funk. A dreary, tired, bored funk.

I was going to tell you about coupons. More to the point, my lack of coupons while the grocery store is doing a 'triple manufacturers coupon' special. And it made me feel like I was throwing money away; like I could be saving so much if only I took the time to clip coupons. The whole coupon thing is a sore subject with me. I have coupon induced guilt.

I also thought about telling you how crazy my day was yesterday, but that didn't really pan out either. I started to give you a play-by-play of my day, then I got tired of typing about it. It just didn't seem necessary to give you all that information when I could just say this: My day was very hectic and exhausting. See? That tells it all right there.

Also, I considered delving deep into my psyche and writing about something personal and maybe even heart wrenching. But really, I don't have all that much for you. And I think it's all quite boring anyway. Who needs that kind of stuff on a Wednesday, right?

So, you know, I'm in a funk. I've got blog-writer's block and a serious case of woe-is-me.

Woe definitely is me.

Oh yeah, I forgot.

I never wrote an update concerning the whole 'bring a friend' thing at my son's TaeKwonDo school. I'd like to say I had a good reason for not writing about it. I'd like to say that, but, really, I can't. I didn't write about it because I am a space cadet and forgot all about it. .

(It's like a tour through my brilliant mind, reading this blog. I forget all about the things I wrote mere days ago. And while you are touring through my mind, please watch out for all the big, blank spaces; you could get lost in there and never come out. Also, if you see the dream about me losing all of my teeth, please remove it. You know, while you're in there and all.)

So... the whole Open House thing was awful. Really and truly awful. Sure they had a big inflatable obstacle course and slide thing, and a bounce house, and a demonstration area set up to watch the black belts, but it didn't make up for the fact that it was crowded and loud and just plain wild out there. Oh, and drizzling. It was so crazy that we left after our kids took a turn on the obstacle course. We got them the heck out of there, thank goodness, and never even had to deal with the whole 'bring a friend' thing.

At least, I don't think we'll get in trouble for not bringing anyone. We haven't been to his class yet this week. Maybe when we go tonight...

Wish me luck. I may need it.

Fun with danger and food.

Ever have one of those days when you just feel like you really shouldn't be doing anything? A kind of day that doesn't start off badly, but you just feel awkward and uncomfortable? Know what I mean?

Well if you don't, give me a call and I'll tell you all about how it feels to be awake and doing things when all you really want to do is shut out the world for a while. Because that's exactly what I feel like today.

Blah.

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We had a very fun weekend this past weekend. On Saturday we went to a Heritage Festival at a local state park (it was FREE and I love FREE) and they had all kinds of great things to see and do. There were farm animals of all sorts, carriage rides, cane fishing, blacksmiths doing blacksmith stuff, hay rides and a tractor pulling barrels. The barrels were what we set our kids into (imagine them on their sides with a hole cut into them and a seat and wheels added) and they were pulled at approximately 60 mph around a parking lot and up the road by crazed tractor drivers. I say approximately 60 mph because I do not know the actual speed a tractor pulling 6 barrels full of children can go on rain-slicked roads, but they were going f*cking fast, so I'm guessing it was pretty close.

(It's funny that we noticed the tractors zooming past us as we were entering the area and remarked about how unsafe they appeared, yet we still happily set our children into the barrels of death. We'll take our parents of the year award right now, thank you; no need to wait until the end of the year.)

And yesterday we took them shopping. And out to eat. And they love us with all their hearts because first we put them in grave danger and then we fed them restaurant food, which is their favorite kind of food.

(Being parents of the year is exhausting.)

Fermented vegetables for everyone!

Today is Open House day at my son's TaeKwonDo school. There will be a bounce house, a big slide, food, drinks, and a demonstration by the Masters - one of whom is a 5 time World Champion TaeKwonDo-ist (or whatever it is you would call him.) Also, he was a trainer for the Korean Olympic team - he's that good, y'all.

Oh, and also, there will be kimchi, which I really can't bring myself to eat because of the whole fermented thing.

All of this sounds good to me. I'm happy to take my children there so they can enjoy themselves and see what their instructors can really do (besides wrangle a bunch of little children.) I'll even brave the throngs of people, even though doing so makes me want to hide in my room with the lights out and my head under the covers. (Have I ever told you how much I hate crowds?)

The thing that bothers me about this whole 'Open House' thing is that they are adamant that you bring a friend. A friend who is not already taking TaeKwonDo. A friend who preferably has parents with enough money to pay the exorbitant rates they charge for lessons. A friend that they can recruit into their big money sucking organization.

(Am I a bitter about how much money they charge? Maybe just a little.)

Now, now, before you start throwing capitalistic barbs out to me about how there is nothing wrong with making more money, or how a company needs to grow to be a success, know that I understand their efforts to grow and thrive. I just don't like that they are pressuring my son so badly to bring a friend. They've been drilling the 'bring a friend' thing into their heads for a good month now. It's become a requirement. I'm actually kind of afraid to show up without some little child in tow.

And therein lies the problem - the little boy that my son wanted to invite cannot go. And now we've got no one who can go on last minute notice. And I'm very scared about what Master Chin will do when he discovers I have not succeeded in my mission to recruit young children into his organization. You don't think he'll get all Hi-Yah on me, do you? Because even though he's a little man, I have no doubt that he can kick my a**.

Maybe if I eat enough kimchi, he'll leave me alone.

That, or I'll have to get out my checkbook.

I'm not sure which is worse.

Tag, you're it

I woke up this morning and my internet connection was down. I thought, I don't need you anyway, Internet. I'll just read a book. Then by 9:30 I realized I had checked my computer 3 times to see if I was online again. And that's when I realized that I do in fact need you, Internet. I need you like a junkie needs a fix. So I called the cable company and they sent a tech out here. The guy, brilliant man that he was, said, "You have connectivity issues, ma'am." And I was very good, people. I refrained some saying, no sh*t. I just left him to resolve my 'connectivity issues' on his own since I figured he didn't need my smart mouth there to help him.

After many trips up and down my stairs, he finally got everything back up and running. And I can stop hyperventilating and check my email. And blog, of course.

Except, well, besides the whole 'connectivity' thing I really didn't have anything to blog about. Until I went over to Sara's site and she tagged me for this:

REVEAL A LITTLE ABOUT YOURSELF:

NOW
Is your hair up?: no
Is your phone right beside you?: yes
Do you wish you were somewhere else?: yes
Do you have plans for tonight?: taking my son to TaeKwonDo - I'm a party person, I know.
Are you wearing makeup?: a little
Are you wearing chapstick?: yes
Are you cold?: not really
Are you tired?: a little
Are you watching t.v.? no, but I am listening to the TV - Go, Diego, GO (save me, please)
Are you wearing pajamas?: no
Who's the last person that IMed you?: funny you should ask - it was my husband. We were trying out the IM feature on MySpace. Other than that, I never IM.
Who's the last person that called you?: my husband

PAST
Anything you regret?: sure - but I'm not telling you
Ever stuck gum under a desk?: no
Ever spit at someone?: no
Ever kick something living?: um, maybe (?)... but I'm sure I never hurt anything/anyone
Ever had your nails done?: yes
Ever thrown up because you cried so hard?: no, and I hope I'm never that emotional

LAST WEEK
Had any plans last week?: I don't think so... it was so long ago
Who did you see most last week?: kids, kids and more kids
Was last week interesting?: maybe not so much, seeing as I don't really remember last week.

TODAY
Have you cursed?: in my typing, but not out loud
Have you yelled at someone?: no
Have you gotten mad at someone?: no, not even the cable tech.
Have you cried? no
Have you seen the person you like? sure
Have you called more than 3 people?: good God, no. I hate to use the phone
Have you IMed more than 3 people?: nope
Have you eaten anything gross?: depends on what you'd call gross

SPILL YOUR GUTS
Q. First thing you did this morning?: helped my husband with his tie and collar
Q. Last thing you ate?: jalapeno cream cheese poppers (does that qualify as gross?)
Q. What's something you look forward to most in the next 6 weeks?: hmmm... I'll get back to you
Q. What's annoying you right now?: Go, Diego, GO
Q. What's the last movie you watched?: I don't even remember
Q. Do you believe in long distance relationships?: yes I believe in them - they aren't like the tooth fairy or anything - but no thanks, I don't want one
Q Where is the last place you went?: the elementary school to drop the kids off
Q: Who is the last person you called?: the cable company
Q: Been cheated on? yes
Q: Do you think that someone is thinking about you right now?: I would like to think so
Q: Choose one to have (love, beauty, creativity): love
Q: Do you wish on stars?: I used to
Q: Does it work?: not so much
Q; Do you untie your shoes every time you take them off: no, and I thinkg that makes me very lazy
Q: When did you last cry?: I have no idea
Q: Do you like your handwriting?: gosh no, I can't even read it
Q: Are you a friendly person?: I'd like to think so
Q: Are you keeping a secret from the world?: ha! that's funny - I spill everything
Q: Who's bed did you sleep in last friday night?: my own... did you expect somebody else's?
Q: What color shirt are you wearing?: white t shirt and a pastel striped button down
Q: Do you have any pets?: no
Q: What is the color of your bedsheets?: white with stripes
Q: What were you doing at 9 last night?: falling asleep
Q: last person you talked to in person : the child I babysit
Q: When is the last time you saw your dad?: May
Q: Look to your left: okay...(?)
Q: Ever cried yourself to sleep?: when I was little, I'm sure
Q: Ever cried on your friends shoulder?: oh yeah
Q: Are you a normally happy person?: yes
Q: Is your self-esteem low?: sometimes I wish it was higher, but, no, I wouldn't say low
Q: What color are your eyes?: brown
Q: Long or Short Hair : long, long, long - but it needs to be cut badly. No wait, that didn't sound right - it badly needs to be cut. It doesn't need to be cut badly - I would like a goodly cut, please.

Busy, busy, busy (but eating well.)

It's a good thing you all are out there reading this from the safety of your own houses, because I am out of breath and breaking a sweat. So, you know, you are spared the huffing and puffing. And also maybe the smell.

Am I exercising? Good God, no! I'm just worn out from all the running around I'm doing.

Today was the first day of Preschool for the 3 year old I babysit. So I got my own kids ready for school, dropped them off, drove back home, quickly fed the baby his breakfast, packed my two charges back into the car, drove to the preschool, dropped off the 3 year old (which, good luck to you, preschool teachers. You will need it.) and then took the baby grocery shopping, came back home, unloaded the car, got a snack for the baby, put away the groceries, made myself some jalapeno cream cheese poppers (because I deserve it,) washed the sheets my son accidentally wet last night (for he finally fell into a deep sleep without his allergies bothering him) and now I'm here on the computer.

Phew. Even typing it wears me out.

And I've got exactly 30 minutes until it all starts over again. Make that 20 minutes. Yikes.

So if you don't hear from me, do not worry. I am not dead. I may, however, be passed out on the floor letting the children crawl all over me and draw on my face with markers. Wish me luck.

Now it's later, and I'm back.

Hi there!

(I think that's how I'll start all my posts - with a hearty Hi There! It's so cheery.)

Well, operation take a child to the doctor went off without a hitch. Well, it was a little hectic, but hitch free. You see, when I went to pick up my son at school they were in the middle of a fire drill. So the class was not in their classroom. And, me being me, I had the time it would take me to pick up my son and get to the doctor's office planned right down to the minute. So when I went into the school and had to hunt down my son during the fire drill, my whole planned down to the minute thing went right out the darned window! Which, really, was no big deal because I always plan in an extra 10 minutes to deal with variables. (What is that you say? I'm Type A? I have no idea what you're talking about.)

Another variable that was thrown into my schedule was when the mom of the little boys I babysit called me and said her oldest boy had a doctor's appointment this morning and she was coming to get him. To which I thought, Uh-Oh. We are at the doctor's, I told her. I told your husband last night that we were going. But, um, I guess he didn't tell you. So she had to come pick up her son for his doctor's appointment at my son's doctor's office. Talk about crazy.

But still - did not throw me off of my schedule. Did not even give me a minor headache. Because I was getting my son fixed (not like he was broken - more like malfunctioning,) and nothing could ruin it for me!

Well, we got to see the doctor after a bordering-on-outrageous wait, and she was like, wow, he looks bad. To which I thought, thank you for saying so. I know it is horrible of me, but I am thankful his skin was worse when I picked him up at school; even worse than when I dropped him off an hour earlier. I am thankful because usually his skin does the whole heal-up-before-going-to-the-doctor's-office thing and then they just kind of look at me like I'm the sort of mother who brings her child in for the slightest of things and thinks the world is going to end unless I get a prescription because we all know that prescriptions heal everything. Because I'm not that sort of mom at all. I'm more the type of mom who lets things get really bad before going into the doctor because I'm, well, I'm just that type of mom. But I digress... The doctor finally saw how inflamed my son's skin gets. He has hives, and itchy spots, and redness, and his nose is stuffed up, and his eyes are red, and he looks horrible.

So finally he was seen in all his glory and the doctor knew we had to do something about it. She first prescribed a 3 day course of steroids to rid his body af all the hives and allergens. Then she prescribed yet another allergy medicine to give to him nightly. It's Singulair, to go along with his nightly dose of Claritin. Claritin is an antihistamine and the Singulair is a somethingorotheriene blocker so the two of them together attack the allergic response in different ways. It's enough to stop his body from manufacturing any sort of allergy-type symptom. So, you know, hopefully he'll still have some fluids in his body and still be able to feel his skin. But we're willing to take the chance. (I jest.) (Kind of.)

She also prescribed a new kind of lotion for his dry skin. It's called Hylira and it's supposed to be a new and improved way of moisturizing. She gave me a sample, and it's kind of like a cross between a gel and a liquid. It's non-greasy and you can't even tell where it is you put it on your skin, it absorbs that quickly and fully. Most importantly, it is fragrance and irritant free and that is what I like to hear when it comes to what I use on my poor son. (But the sample bottle looks eerily like the bottles of a particular personal lubricant/massage oil I've seen. That kind of freaks me out.) The good news is, if he has a prescription lotion, I can drop some off at his school and have them moisturize him. Because regular lotion is evidently not allowed. Crazy, huh. The bad news is, um, I just looked it up online and saw that one bottle costs around $200.00. Yikes. I don't know if that's what it'll cost me because I have yet to pick up the medicine at the pharmacy, but I'm sure hoping it's not that much. I'm hoping very much that it doesn't cost me an arm and a leg. Or even a child. Because I'm going to have to sell one of the children if it does cost that much and I'm not sure if I should sell the child that requires all of this medicine, or if I should sell the other one so at least the medicine I paid that much money for gets used. Quite a quandary.

In summary, I didn't have to stage a sit-in at the doctor's office. I think things will get easier for the boy. And if they don't, we'll be back in two weeks.

(And I'll be in the poor house.)

Be back later.

Take the morning off, everyone!

(Don't you wish it was as simple as that? I just announce that today we shall all take the morning off, and then it is so.)

I'm taking my son to the doctor's today. I'm kicking off what is to be a series of doctor's and dentist appointments. Today we are going because his allergies and exzema are getting worse. Worser and worser. And I just can't bear for the boy to have a runny nose and itchy skin any longer. I am going to station myself in the doctor's office until she gives me what I deem as a satisfactory course of action. I am sick of being told the same old 'use non-scented products and plenty of lotion, and give him this allergy pill every day' nonsense. It doesn't work; it hasn't worked; it is going to change! [raising finger into air with the proclamation of change] And then next week he is going to the dentist so they can clean his teeth and admire his second row of teeth that are coming in shark-style. And next it is my daughter's turn at the dentist so he can marvel at how clean her teeth are because she loves to brush them and makes sure she cleans every single tooth with loving care. Then, oh boy, it is time for the flu shots. I'm taking them both at the same time, and I'm hoping they will not run screaming from the doctor's office, only to have me drag them back in whilst trying my hardest not to show that I am scared to death of needles.

Boy, how I ramble. I was just going to post a short little sentence saying that I'll be back to post later. And lookie there, I've managed to post a whole lot. I know that I am talented, no need to tell me so.

(Although, if you'd like to tell me how pretty and smart I am, you may do so at any point in time.)

They are like gold.

Around our house there is a great love of Yoo-Hoo. Specifically, the drink boxes. And when I say great love, I mean undying devotion to those precious little drink boxes.

So imagine our disappointment when we were unable to locate the drink boxes in any of our grocery stores. And by disappointment, I mean earth shattering woe. The kind of woe that has us dropping to our knees in the middle of the grocery store and wailing "NNNNOOOOOOOO!" That, my friends, is what happened to us. (Well, maybe we didn't drop to our knees, but I distinctly remember saying the NNNOOOOO part.)

Let me give you a little background. My son, my darling little bundle of neuroses, will not drink milk. Unless it's the chocolate milk he gets when he buys lunch, and then he only drinks a little tiny bit of it. But otherwise, the mere site of milk will send him into the bathroom to pay homage to the porcelain god, if you know what I mean. So when I grew tired of constantly feeding him calcium fortified juice (you should see what all that juice did to his bowels, it was not pretty) I sought out something to give him that would fortify his bones and keep him from snapping in two when I hugged him. Imagine my shock when I presented him with a Yoo-Hoo drink box, and he liked it. Loved it. And drank all of it down without even questioning it's ingredients. (Shhh, don't tell him it's milk in there!)

From then on I bought the drink boxes by the cart load.

And then, then, the grocery store was out of them.

No problem, I thought, I'll just go to another store. They were out too. I started to panic. But school had just started, so I figured other parents were buying out the supply. Don't worry, I told myself, they will get more in stock soon. Really soon, I hoped, because I only had one 10 pack left.

But (you knew the but was coming! I'm not very sly in my storytelling) they did not reappear in the grocery stores. Any of them.

In a moment of desperation, we bought a case of Yoo-Hoo in the cans. And that was quickly rejected by my son. (My daughter, on the other hand, liked it fine.) Instead, I bought calcium fortified orange juice for my son and tried not to think about what all that vitamin C would do to his bowels. (Did I mention it is not pretty?)

When we went to visit my husband's family in a town about 45 minutes away, we made a quick side trip into a grocery store and found four 10 packs of Yoo-Hoo drink boxes. It was all they had left on the shelf, and we bought them, hurriedly. We zoomed out of the store, giddy with the fact that we had the drink boxes! Enough to last a couple of weeks! And Ah-Ha (!) we knew where to find more! We are so smart!

The smart-ness, it did not last. Because when we were running out of drink boxes yet again and our stores still didn't have any in stock we went back to the other town. And they were out too. All of the stores. Completely out. [Cue earth shattering woe.]

We were out of drink boxes for weeks and the children were drinking lots of OJ. And life was very, very sad. My son would ask for his drink boxes, even go to the cabinet to retrieve one (he doesn't like them cold - odd, I know) and he would be sorely disappointed to see the shelf full of OJ. So sad.

Then, then, my husband had to go out of town for the day on Friday. While he was there, he went into a grocery store. And lo and behold, they had the drink boxes! So he bought 60 of them! Because we were beginning to think we would never see their loveliness again. And you should have seen the looks of joy and excitement on the children's faces when he showed up with packs and packs of drink boxes. It was a moment for us, I tell you.

And on Sunday when we went to buy some pastrami, swiss cheese and rye for yummy, yummy sandwiches, what did we see on the store shelves? Yoo-Hoo drink boxes! But not a lot. So I bought 4 more packs. Just in case they try to deny us again. And today I'm hoping to buy some more after I take the little ones to the library.

So we now have a stockpile of Yoo-Hoo. We have a cabinet full of the drink boxes, and 3 cases of the cans in our pantry. So, you know, if you ever need any....

Don't come asking for some here. We don't have enough to share.

Extra teeth.

Sometime late last night, around the 2 AM mark, I had a beautiful blog post composed in my head. It had it all - a bit of controversy, humor and a lovely story.

Then sometime around the 7 AM mark, I forgot it. I don't even remember the general subject. Nothing.

Man, I hate it when that happens.

So instead I'm going to share with you the situation with my son's teeth. You see, he has just turned 7. And by that time most children have lost a tooth or two. But not my son. Nope. His teeth are all still sticking around, nary a wiggle.

But he is getting his permanent teeth! There is one coming up on the bottom that looks huge compared to his tiny baby teeth. And the comparison is easy because it is coming up right behind his baby teeth! Right the f*ck behind them.

I'm wondering if he's going to get a whole set of permanent teeth behind his baby teeth. Then he'll be like a shark, with several rows of teeth. I've got visions of various tooth pulling devices and orthodontia swirling in my head. I can't imagine what this is going to do to the poor boy's mouth.

We're making a dentist appointment today.