This past week has been a total nightmare involving steroids and pee.
Last Monday, as I posted last time, Rufus was put on steroids since his neck was pretty much clawed to bits. I still think, despite what the vet thinks, that he had an allergic reaction to the diet dog food that he was on. The last time we fed him this particular company's regular dog food, he developed an allergic reaction and we finally narrowed it down to corn. Well, guess what the first ingredient in said company's diet dog food is? Corn. Kind of funny how I even have on his chart with the vet that he's allergic to corn, huh?
Now I don't feel bad that my doctor isn't the only one that doesn't read my chart.
They took blood to check his thyroid. Thursday night, I came home to a message on the answering machine from the vet who said that his thyroid was normal. So his recommendations?
1. Put the dog on prescription diet medication.
2. Keep the dog on the diet dog food.
3. Bring the dog in weekly to meet with his staff physical therapist to develop an exercise regimen for him.
Um, excuse me? I'd be doing things for the dog that I don't even do for myself. Next thing you know the little bastard will be getting manicures, bikini waxes, and colonics.
So I've kind of taken things into my own hands, starting with changing his food. I spent a few days gradually introducing it and now he's on it 100% and doing very well. It's all-organic, low calorie dog food and he loves it. No more scratching or licking or rubbing his eyes, either. Strangely enough, there is no corn in this food. Coincidence? I think not.
One thing that has been problematic this week is that the steroids are making him drink literally gallons of water a day. The first day he peed on the carpet next to my bed. Then he did it the next night while we were sleeping. We went the rest of the week with no accidents, but he stayed outside during the day because it wasn't hot. Today, he was inside and I had the foresight to actually put him in our bathroom so he wouldn't pee on the rug.
So he peed on the bath mat. Oops.
We are down to every 24 hours with the steroids instead of every 12 hours, and then this weekend we go to every 48 hours. I am hoping that my carpets (and bath mats) will survive all of this.
You can tell he's finally feeling better. Last night he spent a good 20 minutes scouring the baseboards under the kitchen cabinets just looking for any speck of edible dust he could. And licking the carpet under the coffee table, hoping for one tiny molecule of Oreo Heaven. It's downright pathetic, but a sure sign that he's feeling better.
*****
Today, I had to run home to meet the plumber. Our fabulous porno shower had a clogged drain (they pulled out a big wad of Builder Mama hair, gag) so despite three bottles of various drain-unclogging environment-killing chemicals, I gave up and called Cat Door to get the plumber back out here.
Rufus was outside when the guy pulled up, so I ran outside to try and get the dog inside before he attacked the poor man. Not that he would bite anyone, but he can be pretty ferocious.
Upon greeting the repairman, I noticed that he had a very distinctly British accent. We chatted a bit as he eyed Rufus warily, who was circling him like a bloodthirsty hyena.
"Not a big fan of the Corgi," he said.
"Is it that you're not a fan of corgis? Or because you're not a fan of the Welsh?" I teased.
And with all seriousness, he answered: "Both."
All righty then.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
And suddenly, it all became clear
Yesterday, of course, was Father's Day. It was a really nice day, and I think Joey enjoyed being fussed over a little bit if I do say so myself.
The in-laws were tolerable. On a scale of one to ten, I'd rate it an eight. It would've been a seven, but since the visit only lasted 45 minutes I gave them a bonus point. The two major annoyances this visit:
*Calling us at 11:10 wanting to know why were weren't there yet. When the set time to meet was 11:45.
*Wishing that just once, we could make it through an event with them without my father-in-law yelling at my mother-in-law to "shut the hell up, woman!" Seriously, is that necessary? Yes, she is annoying as hell with her incessant yammering, but please - don't talk to her that way in front of Monkey Man. He doesn't need to hear that crap.
Good thing the restaurant has good yeast rolls.
*****
So my funk that I was in for a few weeks seems to have diminished somewhat. I've been trying to work out a few days each week (don't ask about last week, though) and we've had consistently sunny days which definitely helps my mood.
Yesterday, as we were riding back from our Forced In-Law Interaction (With Yeast Rolls!) it hit me like a brick. Why I've been so down in the dumps. Or at least a big reason why.
My dad's cancer is back.
It's not something that I've ever talked about much. My dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer back in 1997 - he ended up taking radiation therapy and has had a few flare-ups over the past eleven years that required different therapies. He's lived a pretty much normal life except for, oh, almost dying two years ago. And you know, it's rare that any man actually dies FROM prostate cancer - they die WITH it but with something else as the primary cause.
This time, though, the last known therapy has stopped working. He is currently taking an experimental drug that is supposed to enhance the effects of the current therapy he's on, so all we can do is hope for the best.
It makes me angry, dammit. Angry that someone so good just can't seem to beat this thing. Angry that my dad can't seem to catch a break these last few years.
And most of all, angry that a piece of shit like my father-in-law - who drinks heavily, smokes three packs a day, and pretty much hates everyone on the planet - is as healthy as a horse. "A medical miracle" is what his doctor calls him. Bastard.
I have found myself distancing myself from my parents over the last few months. Not because of the cancer, but because it's easier than having my feelings hurt over and over by my mother's manipulations. And that sucks. I've been trying to work through that because honestly, I don't want my father to die and suddenly not be able to remember the last time I talked to him. I don't want it to be that way.
We - our whole family except my loser Salsa King brother - are headed to Texas in August for my dad's World War II reunion. It will probably be his last big trip anywhere. He will be 86 at the end of July, and his last trip was pretty difficult for him to make. I think it's sheer will and excitement about having all of us together that's keeping him excited about the trip.
And me? Well, Texas in August isn't exactly what I'd choose, but I'd go anywhere for him.
*****
So poor Rufus was put on a diet by the vet a few weeks ago, right? Slight problem - he seems to be having an allergic reaction to the food, so bad that he has clawed his neck to bits and required a day-long vet visit. Poor guy was put under, shaved, and all kinds of indignities performed on him including a pedicure. He is not a happy camper.
And the worst part? He has GAINED three pounds since starting the diet. So we will be changing to another food and doing a little more exercise, I do believe. And we're getting his thyroid checked, which he thinks is a great idea because then he can always blame that for his fat ass. Little does he know that I spent most of my afternoon on Corgi bulletin boards discovering that Oh My God, I Have Been Overfeeding My Dog Like Crazy. Oops.
The in-laws were tolerable. On a scale of one to ten, I'd rate it an eight. It would've been a seven, but since the visit only lasted 45 minutes I gave them a bonus point. The two major annoyances this visit:
*Calling us at 11:10 wanting to know why were weren't there yet. When the set time to meet was 11:45.
*Wishing that just once, we could make it through an event with them without my father-in-law yelling at my mother-in-law to "shut the hell up, woman!" Seriously, is that necessary? Yes, she is annoying as hell with her incessant yammering, but please - don't talk to her that way in front of Monkey Man. He doesn't need to hear that crap.
Good thing the restaurant has good yeast rolls.
*****
So my funk that I was in for a few weeks seems to have diminished somewhat. I've been trying to work out a few days each week (don't ask about last week, though) and we've had consistently sunny days which definitely helps my mood.
Yesterday, as we were riding back from our Forced In-Law Interaction (With Yeast Rolls!) it hit me like a brick. Why I've been so down in the dumps. Or at least a big reason why.
My dad's cancer is back.
It's not something that I've ever talked about much. My dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer back in 1997 - he ended up taking radiation therapy and has had a few flare-ups over the past eleven years that required different therapies. He's lived a pretty much normal life except for, oh, almost dying two years ago. And you know, it's rare that any man actually dies FROM prostate cancer - they die WITH it but with something else as the primary cause.
This time, though, the last known therapy has stopped working. He is currently taking an experimental drug that is supposed to enhance the effects of the current therapy he's on, so all we can do is hope for the best.
It makes me angry, dammit. Angry that someone so good just can't seem to beat this thing. Angry that my dad can't seem to catch a break these last few years.
And most of all, angry that a piece of shit like my father-in-law - who drinks heavily, smokes three packs a day, and pretty much hates everyone on the planet - is as healthy as a horse. "A medical miracle" is what his doctor calls him. Bastard.
I have found myself distancing myself from my parents over the last few months. Not because of the cancer, but because it's easier than having my feelings hurt over and over by my mother's manipulations. And that sucks. I've been trying to work through that because honestly, I don't want my father to die and suddenly not be able to remember the last time I talked to him. I don't want it to be that way.
We - our whole family except my loser Salsa King brother - are headed to Texas in August for my dad's World War II reunion. It will probably be his last big trip anywhere. He will be 86 at the end of July, and his last trip was pretty difficult for him to make. I think it's sheer will and excitement about having all of us together that's keeping him excited about the trip.
And me? Well, Texas in August isn't exactly what I'd choose, but I'd go anywhere for him.
*****
So poor Rufus was put on a diet by the vet a few weeks ago, right? Slight problem - he seems to be having an allergic reaction to the food, so bad that he has clawed his neck to bits and required a day-long vet visit. Poor guy was put under, shaved, and all kinds of indignities performed on him including a pedicure. He is not a happy camper.
And the worst part? He has GAINED three pounds since starting the diet. So we will be changing to another food and doing a little more exercise, I do believe. And we're getting his thyroid checked, which he thinks is a great idea because then he can always blame that for his fat ass. Little does he know that I spent most of my afternoon on Corgi bulletin boards discovering that Oh My God, I Have Been Overfeeding My Dog Like Crazy. Oops.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Held hostage by crazy people
I am one of the few people that you will ever meet that will willingly admit to being a control freak. And not in an angry, bitter way - just as a "this is who I am" part of me.
I try not to impose my opinions or wants on other people. But if I feel like I don't have control over a situation, it makes me feel a little sick inside. Okay, really sick inside.
I've worked on it some. And I've embraced it a little, too. I think you can do both, right? RIGHT?
Okay, losing control. Must focus.
This weekend is shaping up to be fun for the most part. In about 30 minutes we will have the following equation take place:
2 moms + 4 kids + 1 Brazilian au pair + 2 bottles of wine + 1 swimming pool = FUN.
Yes, I'm meeting Jay and her crew at the pool. This is our first venture out to our neighborhood pool this year, not exactly sure why but I'm kind of looking forward to it. Not looking forward to blinding everyone with the whiteness of my thighs, but there's going to have to be a point where I have to do that in order to fix the problem.
Then there's tomorrow. Baseball game followed by a trip to Heather's pool with husbands and kids - there will be plenty of beer and good food. Oh, and I have to sneak out and pick up Joey's present from Monkey Man which is ready.
And then, there's Sunday.
As I mentioned last time, the dreaded in-laws decided that they were coming. Then not coming. Then maybe coming. And now, we have no freaking idea exactly when they are coming or if they are coming or if we're meeting them halfway or what. As in, now we have no concrete plans for Sunday waiting on their stupid asses to make up their minds what they are willing to do.
I hate being held hostage by crazy people.
So until then, I am determined not to give Joey any eye-rolling, not to make any snide comments, or undermine his opinion that his parents are the most considerate people on the face of the planet. I think it's pretty evident that they're not and we all can see it, even if he can't. I still have faith that one day, he too will realize that they are psychopathic idiots of the highest magnitude.
Whew, that felt better.
*****
A good thing and a bad thing. Bad things first.
Cat Door's wife - The Mrs. has a very small family. I guess her family didn't reproduce a lot, and her own parents died years ago, so she has a brother (with wife and kids) and a cousin she is close to (and his wife, kids, and parents). Well, she lost one uncle on Tuesday to cancer, and then another passed away this morning unexpectedly. So if you don't mind keeping her in your thoughts, I'd appreciate it. Two funerals in one weekend, and she's taking it pretty hard.
And a good thing. Today is the last day of school, and my boy is officially a rising first grader. With a perfect report card. Mama couldn't be happier.
I try not to impose my opinions or wants on other people. But if I feel like I don't have control over a situation, it makes me feel a little sick inside. Okay, really sick inside.
I've worked on it some. And I've embraced it a little, too. I think you can do both, right? RIGHT?
Okay, losing control. Must focus.
This weekend is shaping up to be fun for the most part. In about 30 minutes we will have the following equation take place:
2 moms + 4 kids + 1 Brazilian au pair + 2 bottles of wine + 1 swimming pool = FUN.
Yes, I'm meeting Jay and her crew at the pool. This is our first venture out to our neighborhood pool this year, not exactly sure why but I'm kind of looking forward to it. Not looking forward to blinding everyone with the whiteness of my thighs, but there's going to have to be a point where I have to do that in order to fix the problem.
Then there's tomorrow. Baseball game followed by a trip to Heather's pool with husbands and kids - there will be plenty of beer and good food. Oh, and I have to sneak out and pick up Joey's present from Monkey Man which is ready.
And then, there's Sunday.
As I mentioned last time, the dreaded in-laws decided that they were coming. Then not coming. Then maybe coming. And now, we have no freaking idea exactly when they are coming or if they are coming or if we're meeting them halfway or what. As in, now we have no concrete plans for Sunday waiting on their stupid asses to make up their minds what they are willing to do.
I hate being held hostage by crazy people.
So until then, I am determined not to give Joey any eye-rolling, not to make any snide comments, or undermine his opinion that his parents are the most considerate people on the face of the planet. I think it's pretty evident that they're not and we all can see it, even if he can't. I still have faith that one day, he too will realize that they are psychopathic idiots of the highest magnitude.
Whew, that felt better.
*****
A good thing and a bad thing. Bad things first.
Cat Door's wife - The Mrs. has a very small family. I guess her family didn't reproduce a lot, and her own parents died years ago, so she has a brother (with wife and kids) and a cousin she is close to (and his wife, kids, and parents). Well, she lost one uncle on Tuesday to cancer, and then another passed away this morning unexpectedly. So if you don't mind keeping her in your thoughts, I'd appreciate it. Two funerals in one weekend, and she's taking it pretty hard.
And a good thing. Today is the last day of school, and my boy is officially a rising first grader. With a perfect report card. Mama couldn't be happier.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
What exactly is normal, anyway?
I was going to call this post "Back to normal" but what exactly does that mean around here, anyway?
Joey came home last night. I have to admit that I've grown to enjoy his yearly Manstravaganza, especially now that Monkey Man is older and grown to be so much fun. We packed so much crap into five days that it was unbelievable. And fun.
And you know, I secretly enjoy having a few days where I don't have to worry about anyone's schedule. With Joey's job, it's a constant struggle to work everything around when he's going to be done. I know his cell phone rings at 5:15 every night with me on the other end wanting to know what the plan is for the evening and he probably cringes. So having a few days where it is me and my little buddy is fun. Not saying that I want it that way all the time, but it's a nice break.
Of course, this weekend is Father's Day and somehow I had the inkling that my in-laws were going to rear their ugly heads this weekend. Sure enough, the hair was standing up on the back of my neck as Joey pulled into the restaurant parking lot tonight at dinner and he was on the phone. Yup, my mother-in-law. It seems that they will be going to a nephew's graduation party about 40 minutes from our house on Saturday night (we were not invited, go figure) and they want us to meet them for breakfast or lunch for Father's Day.
Holidays are a serious sore point around here. Especially Mother's Day. Starting with the year that Monkey Man had turned one, my mother-in-law started with her theatrics the Friday before Mother's Day. She locked herself in her bathroom at her house and cried for hours because "her boys" (a.k.a. Joey and his brother Kenny) weren't coming for Mother's Day. My father-in-law called Joey and cussed him up one side and down another for "disrepektin yo mama" or some bullshit like that. So he was upset all weekend and basically we barely spoke.
The year after that, she locked herself in their bedroom crying. Again. So Joey decided after his father's angry call that WE had to go down to see his parents on Mother's Day weekend.
Um, I say bullshit. Again.
I was so angry with him that we ended up fighting again the entire weekend. And for at least a week after that. It got to the point where we had to actually sit down and come up with a written "contract" of what holidays would be spent where and all that stuff. It worked for about a year, and then fell by the wayside. The point being, I think he finally got it.
My whole bone of contention...not that I wanted him to disrespect his own mother, but I really felt like Mother's Day should be my day with my family. As in, the three of us being my family. At that point, my mother-in-law had gotten 32 Mother's Days all to herself. I had gotten two, both of them ruined by her fucking theatrics. It was mean and unfair. Joey's point was that she is his mom, and how could he ignore her on Mother's Day?
My point was...you don't have to ignore her - make plans to do something with her the weekend before, the day before, or the weekend after. Call her on Mother's Day. Send her a gift and/or a card. But dammit, Mother's Day should be our family day together. I never dragged him to see my father on Father's Day, so I expected the same courtesy. All I ever wanted was just to get to choose what *I* wanted to do on Mother's Day. Which would not involve spending the day with people I can barely tolerate.
Believe me, if you know my rocky relationship with my in-laws, you would know by now that my idea of the perfect day would be to get as far away from them as possible.
So anyhow, since the big blow-up I have gotten Mother's Day to choose whatever I wanted to do. And he has gotten Father's Day, and almost every year we have had to tolerate meeting his parents for lunch. I hate it, but it's his day and I just suck it up and pray that it's over quickly.
The worst part is that now that I know that we're going to have to see them this weekend, I am automatically on the defensive as well as feeling pretty snippy about the whole thing. My mother-in-law has called Joey's cell phone three times tonight and they are whispering about who knows what, probably some scheme she has come up with for Sunday. It makes my stomach hurt.
Maybe my father-in-law will share some of his hooch with me. That might make Sunday more tolerable.
Joey came home last night. I have to admit that I've grown to enjoy his yearly Manstravaganza, especially now that Monkey Man is older and grown to be so much fun. We packed so much crap into five days that it was unbelievable. And fun.
And you know, I secretly enjoy having a few days where I don't have to worry about anyone's schedule. With Joey's job, it's a constant struggle to work everything around when he's going to be done. I know his cell phone rings at 5:15 every night with me on the other end wanting to know what the plan is for the evening and he probably cringes. So having a few days where it is me and my little buddy is fun. Not saying that I want it that way all the time, but it's a nice break.
Of course, this weekend is Father's Day and somehow I had the inkling that my in-laws were going to rear their ugly heads this weekend. Sure enough, the hair was standing up on the back of my neck as Joey pulled into the restaurant parking lot tonight at dinner and he was on the phone. Yup, my mother-in-law. It seems that they will be going to a nephew's graduation party about 40 minutes from our house on Saturday night (we were not invited, go figure) and they want us to meet them for breakfast or lunch for Father's Day.
Holidays are a serious sore point around here. Especially Mother's Day. Starting with the year that Monkey Man had turned one, my mother-in-law started with her theatrics the Friday before Mother's Day. She locked herself in her bathroom at her house and cried for hours because "her boys" (a.k.a. Joey and his brother Kenny) weren't coming for Mother's Day. My father-in-law called Joey and cussed him up one side and down another for "disrepektin yo mama" or some bullshit like that. So he was upset all weekend and basically we barely spoke.
The year after that, she locked herself in their bedroom crying. Again. So Joey decided after his father's angry call that WE had to go down to see his parents on Mother's Day weekend.
Um, I say bullshit. Again.
I was so angry with him that we ended up fighting again the entire weekend. And for at least a week after that. It got to the point where we had to actually sit down and come up with a written "contract" of what holidays would be spent where and all that stuff. It worked for about a year, and then fell by the wayside. The point being, I think he finally got it.
My whole bone of contention...not that I wanted him to disrespect his own mother, but I really felt like Mother's Day should be my day with my family. As in, the three of us being my family. At that point, my mother-in-law had gotten 32 Mother's Days all to herself. I had gotten two, both of them ruined by her fucking theatrics. It was mean and unfair. Joey's point was that she is his mom, and how could he ignore her on Mother's Day?
My point was...you don't have to ignore her - make plans to do something with her the weekend before, the day before, or the weekend after. Call her on Mother's Day. Send her a gift and/or a card. But dammit, Mother's Day should be our family day together. I never dragged him to see my father on Father's Day, so I expected the same courtesy. All I ever wanted was just to get to choose what *I* wanted to do on Mother's Day. Which would not involve spending the day with people I can barely tolerate.
Believe me, if you know my rocky relationship with my in-laws, you would know by now that my idea of the perfect day would be to get as far away from them as possible.
So anyhow, since the big blow-up I have gotten Mother's Day to choose whatever I wanted to do. And he has gotten Father's Day, and almost every year we have had to tolerate meeting his parents for lunch. I hate it, but it's his day and I just suck it up and pray that it's over quickly.
The worst part is that now that I know that we're going to have to see them this weekend, I am automatically on the defensive as well as feeling pretty snippy about the whole thing. My mother-in-law has called Joey's cell phone three times tonight and they are whispering about who knows what, probably some scheme she has come up with for Sunday. It makes my stomach hurt.
Maybe my father-in-law will share some of his hooch with me. That might make Sunday more tolerable.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
All about the Monkey Man
It's been a busy, busy few days around here. And this post will mostly be about Monkey Man, so bear with me while I brag a little bit.
*****
First, we had the "big game" on Thursday. Way back when the baseball season started, Monkey Man's school had so many kids sign up for the 6 - 7 year old pee-wee group that they ended up having to split into two teams. At the time, I was pretty distressed since they decided to take all the experienced kids - which included all of Monkey Man's good friends - and put them on one team, and then all the newbies on another team. I was really concerned that Monkey Man wouldn't want to play if he found out he couldn't play with his friends...not to mention, selfishly, I had been looking forward to hanging with the Badasses all season.
Well, in the end I thought maybe it was best for us to stay on the team he was put on. And honestly, it was a good thing for numerous reasons, not the least of which was that he's made some new friends that are nice kids and I've also made some new friends too. Anyhow, last Thursday turned out to be the scheduled game for the two teams to battle it out to the end.
And Monkey Man's team won. The team of misfits, the team that never practices. They won handily, 14 - 9. And my kid was named the MVP of the game and got the game ball. Two triples, two doubles, 3 runs, and a few great plays as a left fielder. I was so proud of him I could barely stand it. He's not the strongest player that they have, but he tries really hard and I think it finally paid off.
The best part, though, was how he handled himself. He went over and congratulated all of his friends on a great game. And told them that it didn't matter who won or who lost, that each team did the best they could.
So if he gets nothing else out of this whole baseball thing, hopefully it's that he learns not only to be a good sport, but also a gracious winner and loser.
*****
The weekend has been peppered with activities with the other Badasses and the kids. Friday night was dinner out with Jay and Harry and the kids. Today was another baseball game and then off to the pool with Heather and Tammy and their kids, then out for dinner since for some reason the snack bar at their pool was closed.
It was a contrast in control. And in one night of ill-behaved kids, and one night of little angels.
I love Jay and Harry to death. Really, they are such good people. But their house is out of control. Ever since the third kid arrived, the kids have been getting worse and worse in terms of behavior. I can't figure out if it's from trouble adjusting to the new baby (well, really not new anymore - she was born last November) or that Jay and Harry are just so overwhelmed that they have just thrown their hands up in the air. Their son, Q, is one of Monkey Man's best friends as well as a classmate, and used to be our go-to guy to take places. He was so good you could take him anywhere. Now, I wouldn't take him down the street. He is out of control. By the time we left the restaurant last night both Q and his sister had created such havoc that I was practically ducking and running out of there in embarrassment. Even Monkey Man got in the car and said, "Whew, that was ROUGH."
Today, though, we had Josh, Lucas, Jordan, and Monkey Man. All were well-behaved, colored on their kids' menus, and played quietly. They ate their dinners without complaint. It was NICE.
Ya know, it's always a crapshoot. And maybe some people think I'm a total hardass on my kid for insisting on good behavior 24/7, but I hope he won't ever be "that" kid. You know what I'm talking about.
*****
So then there's all this other Monkey Man stuff going on that I'm trying to figure out what to do with.
He has been bringing home some amazing artwork. Like stuff that a 6-year-old probably wouldn't normally draw. His art teacher and several other people have all commented that we should sign him up for some art lessons. I have to admit, I was a pretty good artist until I got into music and dance so heavily, so a huge part of me is thrilled to death that he seems to have some artistic abilities. I really need to scan one of his pictures and post it, because I thought for sure he traced the darn picture it was so good.
But ya know, I really would like him to have a REAL job one day and not be a starving artist. And definitely not work in construction.
So tonight we got home and there was an envelope from the school in the mailbox. Finally, the long-awaited news about the testing for the gifted program...so I ripped the envelope open and look to see if he qualifies.
And he does. But get this - it's not for what I thought it would be for. He's an excellent reader, has a great imagination, all that stuff. But he didn't cut the mustard for the language-based program.
He qualifies for math. He is gifted in math, for God's sakes. I almost wept with thankfulness, because I certainly have struggled with it for my entire life.
This is will be the one trait that I definitely will have to give Joey all the credit for.
*****
Lastly, if you haven't heard of the group "Airborne" by now, and you like some good rock that has an AC/DC vibe to it, you should check them out. Any group that has a CD with a sticker on the box that says, "Genuine fist-pumping, sweat-soaked rock and roll" has GOT to be good, right? Joey bought the CD about 2 months ago and finally passed it on to me a week ago after I complained about my inability to download it on my iPod (long story). Heck, I even bought a copy for Cat Door for his birthday and he called me in utmost astonishment that it was actually something he liked whereas most of the time he makes fun of the CD's I burn for him and says that I'm probably just one step away from being a serial killer. Whatever.
Monkey Man loves him some Airborne. Josh decided he wanted to ride in the car with us over to the restaurant from the pool, so the boys were in the backseat listening to the CD and playing with this rubber snake that Monkey Man had acquired somewhere last week. The two of them were having this totally serious conversation about the music and what was the name of this song and what was it about and so on. Then finally, Monkey Man declares, "Josh, you need to put the snake down and LISTEN to the music because this is some rockin' stuff, dude!" I just about drove off the road.
And that's what I will take the credit for. Heh.
*****
Off to collapse. And tomorrow brings another day, with hopefully a visit to see Miss Finley and also shoveling out the house before Joey comes home on Monday.
*****
First, we had the "big game" on Thursday. Way back when the baseball season started, Monkey Man's school had so many kids sign up for the 6 - 7 year old pee-wee group that they ended up having to split into two teams. At the time, I was pretty distressed since they decided to take all the experienced kids - which included all of Monkey Man's good friends - and put them on one team, and then all the newbies on another team. I was really concerned that Monkey Man wouldn't want to play if he found out he couldn't play with his friends...not to mention, selfishly, I had been looking forward to hanging with the Badasses all season.
Well, in the end I thought maybe it was best for us to stay on the team he was put on. And honestly, it was a good thing for numerous reasons, not the least of which was that he's made some new friends that are nice kids and I've also made some new friends too. Anyhow, last Thursday turned out to be the scheduled game for the two teams to battle it out to the end.
And Monkey Man's team won. The team of misfits, the team that never practices. They won handily, 14 - 9. And my kid was named the MVP of the game and got the game ball. Two triples, two doubles, 3 runs, and a few great plays as a left fielder. I was so proud of him I could barely stand it. He's not the strongest player that they have, but he tries really hard and I think it finally paid off.
The best part, though, was how he handled himself. He went over and congratulated all of his friends on a great game. And told them that it didn't matter who won or who lost, that each team did the best they could.
So if he gets nothing else out of this whole baseball thing, hopefully it's that he learns not only to be a good sport, but also a gracious winner and loser.
*****
The weekend has been peppered with activities with the other Badasses and the kids. Friday night was dinner out with Jay and Harry and the kids. Today was another baseball game and then off to the pool with Heather and Tammy and their kids, then out for dinner since for some reason the snack bar at their pool was closed.
It was a contrast in control. And in one night of ill-behaved kids, and one night of little angels.
I love Jay and Harry to death. Really, they are such good people. But their house is out of control. Ever since the third kid arrived, the kids have been getting worse and worse in terms of behavior. I can't figure out if it's from trouble adjusting to the new baby (well, really not new anymore - she was born last November) or that Jay and Harry are just so overwhelmed that they have just thrown their hands up in the air. Their son, Q, is one of Monkey Man's best friends as well as a classmate, and used to be our go-to guy to take places. He was so good you could take him anywhere. Now, I wouldn't take him down the street. He is out of control. By the time we left the restaurant last night both Q and his sister had created such havoc that I was practically ducking and running out of there in embarrassment. Even Monkey Man got in the car and said, "Whew, that was ROUGH."
Today, though, we had Josh, Lucas, Jordan, and Monkey Man. All were well-behaved, colored on their kids' menus, and played quietly. They ate their dinners without complaint. It was NICE.
Ya know, it's always a crapshoot. And maybe some people think I'm a total hardass on my kid for insisting on good behavior 24/7, but I hope he won't ever be "that" kid. You know what I'm talking about.
*****
So then there's all this other Monkey Man stuff going on that I'm trying to figure out what to do with.
He has been bringing home some amazing artwork. Like stuff that a 6-year-old probably wouldn't normally draw. His art teacher and several other people have all commented that we should sign him up for some art lessons. I have to admit, I was a pretty good artist until I got into music and dance so heavily, so a huge part of me is thrilled to death that he seems to have some artistic abilities. I really need to scan one of his pictures and post it, because I thought for sure he traced the darn picture it was so good.
But ya know, I really would like him to have a REAL job one day and not be a starving artist. And definitely not work in construction.
So tonight we got home and there was an envelope from the school in the mailbox. Finally, the long-awaited news about the testing for the gifted program...so I ripped the envelope open and look to see if he qualifies.
And he does. But get this - it's not for what I thought it would be for. He's an excellent reader, has a great imagination, all that stuff. But he didn't cut the mustard for the language-based program.
He qualifies for math. He is gifted in math, for God's sakes. I almost wept with thankfulness, because I certainly have struggled with it for my entire life.
This is will be the one trait that I definitely will have to give Joey all the credit for.
*****
Lastly, if you haven't heard of the group "Airborne" by now, and you like some good rock that has an AC/DC vibe to it, you should check them out. Any group that has a CD with a sticker on the box that says, "Genuine fist-pumping, sweat-soaked rock and roll" has GOT to be good, right? Joey bought the CD about 2 months ago and finally passed it on to me a week ago after I complained about my inability to download it on my iPod (long story). Heck, I even bought a copy for Cat Door for his birthday and he called me in utmost astonishment that it was actually something he liked whereas most of the time he makes fun of the CD's I burn for him and says that I'm probably just one step away from being a serial killer. Whatever.
Monkey Man loves him some Airborne. Josh decided he wanted to ride in the car with us over to the restaurant from the pool, so the boys were in the backseat listening to the CD and playing with this rubber snake that Monkey Man had acquired somewhere last week. The two of them were having this totally serious conversation about the music and what was the name of this song and what was it about and so on. Then finally, Monkey Man declares, "Josh, you need to put the snake down and LISTEN to the music because this is some rockin' stuff, dude!" I just about drove off the road.
And that's what I will take the credit for. Heh.
*****
Off to collapse. And tomorrow brings another day, with hopefully a visit to see Miss Finley and also shoveling out the house before Joey comes home on Monday.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Return to sender
This morning promptly at 7:06 I got a triumphant phone call from Cat Door, who returned last night from a 10-day trip to Spain alive and in one piece. I'm not sure how The Mrs. fared on the trip since it was a motorcycle tour and instead of the usual tour for wusses that he signs up for, this one actually required them to ride the bikes from city to city for 10 days versus having a home base and him taking off and riding most of the days alone while she shops. And shops. And shops.
I'm thinking there was a method to his madness on that one, because the woman seriously spent some major bucks last time they went on one of these trips. Do not leave her unattended with a credit card or there will be some major debt racked up.
Anyhow, I guess he is still on Spain Time and had been up for a while and was just itching to talk about his trip to someone other than their dogs. And since I'm probably the only one of our circle that is actually awake and coherent at 7 AM, I was the winner of the phone call.
We chatted for a few minutes and then he finally was like, "Well, what did you think of my email?"
Email? Huh? I didn't get no stinkin' email.
As it turns out, he had gone with a few of the other tour guests to an internet cafe and decided to shoot some emails out to the crew. He tried to email me at work and then copy my gmail account. The work email probably never made it since he has an AOL account and our spam filter is pretty tight and most AOL and Yahoo accounts never make it through.
But what about the gmail address? Yeah, it went through. But not to ME. He apparently sent it to a similar email but not my address. Oops.
So somewhere out in the Midwest, some elderly man is probably checking his email account. "Mabel? Some guy just sent us an email. Says he's in Spain, and that the women are hot but they have terrible teeth...."
I'm thinking there was a method to his madness on that one, because the woman seriously spent some major bucks last time they went on one of these trips. Do not leave her unattended with a credit card or there will be some major debt racked up.
Anyhow, I guess he is still on Spain Time and had been up for a while and was just itching to talk about his trip to someone other than their dogs. And since I'm probably the only one of our circle that is actually awake and coherent at 7 AM, I was the winner of the phone call.
We chatted for a few minutes and then he finally was like, "Well, what did you think of my email?"
Email? Huh? I didn't get no stinkin' email.
As it turns out, he had gone with a few of the other tour guests to an internet cafe and decided to shoot some emails out to the crew. He tried to email me at work and then copy my gmail account. The work email probably never made it since he has an AOL account and our spam filter is pretty tight and most AOL and Yahoo accounts never make it through.
But what about the gmail address? Yeah, it went through. But not to ME. He apparently sent it to a similar email but not my address. Oops.
So somewhere out in the Midwest, some elderly man is probably checking his email account. "Mabel? Some guy just sent us an email. Says he's in Spain, and that the women are hot but they have terrible teeth...."
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Movie mayhem
So Friday ended up being fun as hell. There may or may not have been the following involved: numerous bottles of wine, crashing a premiere party, drinking in the movie theater parking lot, and sneaking a bottle of wine into the movie theater. Okay, it was all involved. Happy now?
The movie was fantastic - if you were a Sex and the City fan. If you weren't then it probably would suck. I mean seriously people, it's not going to win any Oscars but it is definitely escapism and a love letter to all the fans that watched the series for all of those years.
The funniest part of the evening was when we got to the movie theater and they had police there for crowd control. I mean seriously - what kind of mayhem were they expecting from a bunch of white 30-something moms that drive minivans, a bunch of gay men, and the four token hetero guys who were there solely for the fact they were dragged there and therefore would probably score a piece that night? I'm kind of surprised they didn't call out the SWAT team, but whatever.
On Saturday, feeling a little worse for wear, we took off to a local ballpark for Monkey Man's umpteenth game of the season. The boys did pretty well for the first two innings and then slowly imploded. It's been a little frustrating because the coach, who has an older son whose team he also coaches, hasn't made the kids practice in two months so basically they're just playing games and sucking big time. He has them practice hitting and catching but never told them some of the key principles of the game like, oh, you have to STAND ON THE BASE or your ass will get tagged out. I think we're going to start going to practicing next week, because this week we have a makeup game on Thursday and he didn't want to push the kids too much. Whatever, dude.
It was hot as hell and dusty too. The wind was whipping that red dirt all over the place and I swear I had grit in my teeth. It was nas-ty.
We came home, did some stuff in the yard, I ran, and then we all got cleaned up and decided to go see Ironman.
If you are like me and don't give a rat's behind about comic books, you'll still like the movie. I'm not a huge Robert Downey, Jr. fan and I found him extremely good in the movie, the plot was good, and we all really enjoyed it. And I just found out that it's going to be a trilogy, God help me, so I guess we will be watching the sequels if they don't suck too badly.
Anyhow, today we had team pictures, made a Costco run, and have been generally laying low. I'm tired. And I have like a hundred loads of laundry to do. And Joey is headed out of town Thursday for his Manstravaganza. And we have two baseball games this week and hopefully can squeeze in our first trip to the pool for the year. It's gonna be a busy week.
The movie was fantastic - if you were a Sex and the City fan. If you weren't then it probably would suck. I mean seriously people, it's not going to win any Oscars but it is definitely escapism and a love letter to all the fans that watched the series for all of those years.
The funniest part of the evening was when we got to the movie theater and they had police there for crowd control. I mean seriously - what kind of mayhem were they expecting from a bunch of white 30-something moms that drive minivans, a bunch of gay men, and the four token hetero guys who were there solely for the fact they were dragged there and therefore would probably score a piece that night? I'm kind of surprised they didn't call out the SWAT team, but whatever.
On Saturday, feeling a little worse for wear, we took off to a local ballpark for Monkey Man's umpteenth game of the season. The boys did pretty well for the first two innings and then slowly imploded. It's been a little frustrating because the coach, who has an older son whose team he also coaches, hasn't made the kids practice in two months so basically they're just playing games and sucking big time. He has them practice hitting and catching but never told them some of the key principles of the game like, oh, you have to STAND ON THE BASE or your ass will get tagged out. I think we're going to start going to practicing next week, because this week we have a makeup game on Thursday and he didn't want to push the kids too much. Whatever, dude.
It was hot as hell and dusty too. The wind was whipping that red dirt all over the place and I swear I had grit in my teeth. It was nas-ty.
We came home, did some stuff in the yard, I ran, and then we all got cleaned up and decided to go see Ironman.
If you are like me and don't give a rat's behind about comic books, you'll still like the movie. I'm not a huge Robert Downey, Jr. fan and I found him extremely good in the movie, the plot was good, and we all really enjoyed it. And I just found out that it's going to be a trilogy, God help me, so I guess we will be watching the sequels if they don't suck too badly.
Anyhow, today we had team pictures, made a Costco run, and have been generally laying low. I'm tired. And I have like a hundred loads of laundry to do. And Joey is headed out of town Thursday for his Manstravaganza. And we have two baseball games this week and hopefully can squeeze in our first trip to the pool for the year. It's gonna be a busy week.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Like lemmings off of a cliff
Every thirty-something woman in this God-forsaken city will be at the movies tonight watching the Sex and The City movie. Including me.
I never had that kind of experience. I grew up 45 minutes outside of NYC proper and spent a lot of time there but mostly with my parents. Maybe the closest that I ever got to experiencing the freedom of Noo Yawk was when I was 18 and went back to visit my best friend from high school along with my boyfriend, Angry Rocker Dude. We spent a whole day in the city doing all the touristy fun things, eating at Carnegie Deli, all that good stuff. The best part of the trip was the fact that Angry Rocker Dude had never been on an airplane before, so when we caught the small puddlejumper from our hometown up to Newark Airport, his whole extended family - who I'll call The Clampetts - showed up to see us off. My mother was mortified, but honestly she should've been glad that they left their pet chickens at home.
Most of my time in the city was spent going to various museums and cultural events. Mom was always really big into that, not to mention that my dad enjoyed driving our car into the city because it reminded him of driving a tank in World War II. I shit you not. His tactic usually involved not making eye contact and getting one fender in first. Make sure you pack an extra pair of undies for those trips.
When SATC came out on HBO, I didn't watch it because of the stars. Or the humor. Or even, God help me, for the sex. I watched it because I missed that damn city so much. I relished each and every episode and secretly envied the fact that not only did these people have a cool job where they got to be in the city all the damn time, but that there was a whole show about the consummate "single woman experience" based in the city. That's what I would've chosen for myself, but it just didn't happen that way.
I'm hoping against all hope that the movie will be good. Not great, but good enough to enjoy with the Badasses tonight, most of whom have never been to Noo Yawk and won't understand someone who wasn't watching the show for all the regular reasons. Nor will they understand why someone would leave the chickens at home or why you should pack a change of undies when riding with my father in the city.
*****
Today was the class party. I made cupcakes with vanilla icing and red sprinkles on some and blue sprinkles on the rest.
The rest of the menu was pretty tame. Hot dogs, chips, watermelon, and cupcakes. Lord, did we have cupcakes. Because not only did I bring some, but one of the other Peanut Allergic kids' moms brought some too. Each kid ate at least 2 cupcakes and then were being shipped home on the bus to some lucky parents.
I somehow ended up helping serve the food to the kids, who lined up to receive this bounty on their red and blue plates. The boys all suspiciously eyed me and asked repeatedly if I was REALLY Monkey Man's mommy. The girls all told me I was pretty. Nothing like a little ego boost from a bunch of six-year-olds, huh?
It was fun, and even when he was trying to act all cool in front of his friends the teacher told me he'd been so excited all week about me coming to his party that she got a kick out of it. I guess I need to do a better job of popping in every now and then.
I never had that kind of experience. I grew up 45 minutes outside of NYC proper and spent a lot of time there but mostly with my parents. Maybe the closest that I ever got to experiencing the freedom of Noo Yawk was when I was 18 and went back to visit my best friend from high school along with my boyfriend, Angry Rocker Dude. We spent a whole day in the city doing all the touristy fun things, eating at Carnegie Deli, all that good stuff. The best part of the trip was the fact that Angry Rocker Dude had never been on an airplane before, so when we caught the small puddlejumper from our hometown up to Newark Airport, his whole extended family - who I'll call The Clampetts - showed up to see us off. My mother was mortified, but honestly she should've been glad that they left their pet chickens at home.
Most of my time in the city was spent going to various museums and cultural events. Mom was always really big into that, not to mention that my dad enjoyed driving our car into the city because it reminded him of driving a tank in World War II. I shit you not. His tactic usually involved not making eye contact and getting one fender in first. Make sure you pack an extra pair of undies for those trips.
When SATC came out on HBO, I didn't watch it because of the stars. Or the humor. Or even, God help me, for the sex. I watched it because I missed that damn city so much. I relished each and every episode and secretly envied the fact that not only did these people have a cool job where they got to be in the city all the damn time, but that there was a whole show about the consummate "single woman experience" based in the city. That's what I would've chosen for myself, but it just didn't happen that way.
I'm hoping against all hope that the movie will be good. Not great, but good enough to enjoy with the Badasses tonight, most of whom have never been to Noo Yawk and won't understand someone who wasn't watching the show for all the regular reasons. Nor will they understand why someone would leave the chickens at home or why you should pack a change of undies when riding with my father in the city.
*****
Today was the class party. I made cupcakes with vanilla icing and red sprinkles on some and blue sprinkles on the rest.
The rest of the menu was pretty tame. Hot dogs, chips, watermelon, and cupcakes. Lord, did we have cupcakes. Because not only did I bring some, but one of the other Peanut Allergic kids' moms brought some too. Each kid ate at least 2 cupcakes and then were being shipped home on the bus to some lucky parents.
I somehow ended up helping serve the food to the kids, who lined up to receive this bounty on their red and blue plates. The boys all suspiciously eyed me and asked repeatedly if I was REALLY Monkey Man's mommy. The girls all told me I was pretty. Nothing like a little ego boost from a bunch of six-year-olds, huh?
It was fun, and even when he was trying to act all cool in front of his friends the teacher told me he'd been so excited all week about me coming to his party that she got a kick out of it. I guess I need to do a better job of popping in every now and then.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Martha Stewart I am not
With all the chaos currently going on at Builder Mama Headquarters, I've pretty much been slacking off in the parental involvement department in terms of those pesky emails that I get several times a week from the Class Mother (sound of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in the background) begging for us to send stuff in. Next year, there is no way in hell that I'm signing up for both the PTA volunteer list and the class volunteer list. No way. No. Freaking. Way.
School officially ends on June 13th and after the Field Day festivities of a week ago (including the requisite emails asking for a myriad of things like a cooler, ice, water bottles, etc.) I breathed a huge sigh of relief that the class parties, except for probably a party on the last day of school, were over. Done. Finito.
Yeah, right.
Yesterday, I get an email from the class mother at 4 PM telling her faithful minions that the teacher has decided to have a July 4th party on Friday. That would be this Friday, May 30th. Not July, May.
Uh, okay. So then the email goes on to state that she needs things like hot dog buns, napkins, and then the real kicker. "It would be nice if one of the PA kids' mothers would provide dessert for the class like cookies or cupcakes."
Oh it would be, wouldn't it? Sure, if you're not one of the moms of the PA kids.
PA stands for Peanut Allergic. And yes, my kid is PA. There are actually three PA kids in his class, one of which can't even be in the same room as peanuts or she goes into anaphylactic shock. It's serious stuff, folks. Thankfully, my kid is not put into a life-threatening state by the presence of peanuts, but we keep all nuts away from him with the hopes that by reducing his chance to exposure, he will never have to worry about dying because someone left a speck of peanut butter on the table.
The agony of all of this is that unless people have a kid with food allergies, or know someone like Monkey Man that has food allergies, they think it's no big deal. Seriously, I have had people tell me that I worry too much, that he'll grow out of it, and all kinds of other insane things.
No, he won't grow out of it. Yes, it's serious. Yes, it can potentially kill a person who is highly allergic.
After living with this for so many years, I've become kind of numb to the whole thing. You get so used to checking packages, to asking questions, to bringing your own treats to birthday parties, that it just becomes routine. And you really stop expecting people to understand how freaking hard it is and you just suck it up and do the best you can do.
You might ask - what irritated me about the email? The fact that we were singled out and made to feel like if we didn't provide the treats, the class would go without them. So it's either suck it up and spend the next 2 nights baking and decorating cupcakes, or be known as the mean mom who didn't bring dessert for the class. That's what it makes me feel like. Never mind the fact that I have to work both days, I had to drag a very unwilling dog to the vet tonight, have to shovel out the mess so Reyna can clean tomorrow, then tomorrow night I have a haircut right after work and will have to come home and deal with the cupcake fiasco.
It just rubbed me the wrong damn way. So sue me.
And I'm sure that Martha wouldn't turn up her nose at me for using, gasp, prepackaged cake mix and canned frosting, right? Right. Even she wouldn't be that mean.
*****
On a somewhat related note, I had to drag a very unwilling corgi to the vet this afternoon. Seems as though he got a goopy eye about five days ago and although I've been putting his usual "goopy eye salve" in there it hasn't gotten better. Not to mention the poor guy has been kind of gimpy around the house lately, struggling to walk without a severe limp.
If you've seen a corgi, almost all of them are overweight unless they are show dogs. And yes, poor Rufus has been told today that he has to lose 15 pounds.
This is so not going to be fun. He already acts like we don't feed him enough and spends every spare second in the house scouring the carpet for any wayward crumbs or morsels of Oreo Goodness. He is downright pathetic already, let alone now being fed DIET DOG FOOD. He was glaring at the bag the whole way home from the vet with palpable hatred.
School officially ends on June 13th and after the Field Day festivities of a week ago (including the requisite emails asking for a myriad of things like a cooler, ice, water bottles, etc.) I breathed a huge sigh of relief that the class parties, except for probably a party on the last day of school, were over. Done. Finito.
Yeah, right.
Yesterday, I get an email from the class mother at 4 PM telling her faithful minions that the teacher has decided to have a July 4th party on Friday. That would be this Friday, May 30th. Not July, May.
Uh, okay. So then the email goes on to state that she needs things like hot dog buns, napkins, and then the real kicker. "It would be nice if one of the PA kids' mothers would provide dessert for the class like cookies or cupcakes."
Oh it would be, wouldn't it? Sure, if you're not one of the moms of the PA kids.
PA stands for Peanut Allergic. And yes, my kid is PA. There are actually three PA kids in his class, one of which can't even be in the same room as peanuts or she goes into anaphylactic shock. It's serious stuff, folks. Thankfully, my kid is not put into a life-threatening state by the presence of peanuts, but we keep all nuts away from him with the hopes that by reducing his chance to exposure, he will never have to worry about dying because someone left a speck of peanut butter on the table.
The agony of all of this is that unless people have a kid with food allergies, or know someone like Monkey Man that has food allergies, they think it's no big deal. Seriously, I have had people tell me that I worry too much, that he'll grow out of it, and all kinds of other insane things.
No, he won't grow out of it. Yes, it's serious. Yes, it can potentially kill a person who is highly allergic.
After living with this for so many years, I've become kind of numb to the whole thing. You get so used to checking packages, to asking questions, to bringing your own treats to birthday parties, that it just becomes routine. And you really stop expecting people to understand how freaking hard it is and you just suck it up and do the best you can do.
You might ask - what irritated me about the email? The fact that we were singled out and made to feel like if we didn't provide the treats, the class would go without them. So it's either suck it up and spend the next 2 nights baking and decorating cupcakes, or be known as the mean mom who didn't bring dessert for the class. That's what it makes me feel like. Never mind the fact that I have to work both days, I had to drag a very unwilling dog to the vet tonight, have to shovel out the mess so Reyna can clean tomorrow, then tomorrow night I have a haircut right after work and will have to come home and deal with the cupcake fiasco.
It just rubbed me the wrong damn way. So sue me.
And I'm sure that Martha wouldn't turn up her nose at me for using, gasp, prepackaged cake mix and canned frosting, right? Right. Even she wouldn't be that mean.
*****
On a somewhat related note, I had to drag a very unwilling corgi to the vet this afternoon. Seems as though he got a goopy eye about five days ago and although I've been putting his usual "goopy eye salve" in there it hasn't gotten better. Not to mention the poor guy has been kind of gimpy around the house lately, struggling to walk without a severe limp.
If you've seen a corgi, almost all of them are overweight unless they are show dogs. And yes, poor Rufus has been told today that he has to lose 15 pounds.
This is so not going to be fun. He already acts like we don't feed him enough and spends every spare second in the house scouring the carpet for any wayward crumbs or morsels of Oreo Goodness. He is downright pathetic already, let alone now being fed DIET DOG FOOD. He was glaring at the bag the whole way home from the vet with palpable hatred.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
So much to say, but not knowing how to say it
I don't even know where to start. But yeah, hi!
I guess I should probably explain where I've been. Or at least try to.
You see, I always have had a certain amount of pride about my life. That I'm the "together one". That I'm the one that always has a great attitude, who doesn't let the little things get under my skin, who forges onward with a smile and a lame joke. Yup, that's me.
Or maybe not so much.
I've been depressed. There, I said it out loud. Slowly but surely, I felt like I was sliding backwards to where I was five years ago when I felt like I was just going through the motions. You know how it gets when you're just existing to exist? Putting one foot in front of the other without any kind of joy or emotion about your life? That numbness.
You know what I mean. I know you do.
I felt like the walls were closing in around me. What might have been insignificant problems a few months ago suddenly became insurmountable, like countless stones tied around my ankles and keeping me from gaining any momentum.
The kicker was that we had a little scare here at home. As in a Oh Crap, My Period Is Late scare. The kind that the Mirena IUD is supposed to prevent, although as most of the PIM's know we do have one member who went on to have Kiddo #3 with the Mirena. I was so freaked out that I refused to take a test until 2 weeks had passed, and the day I was headed out to get the test my period started.
And instead of relief, I felt kind of sad. Maybe a little disappointed. I know we've made the right decision for our family not having more children, but there was a teensy part of me that was secretly hoping that we would indeed have another. But things happen for a reason. The strangest part was that I was surprised at the wave of emotions and was kind of swept up in it. It was the icing on the craptastic cake that my life had turned into in the past month.
Things are getting better, though. I kind of kicked myself in the ass last week and realized that pretty much everything was something that I could control and at least improve or make go away. And I started feeling a lot better. Eating better. Getting some exercise. Spending time outside. Making sure I had some fun at work, which had become a very un-fun place to be. Reconnecting with my friends. And most of all, loving my family. I would be nothing without them.
Maybe at some point the exercise and the diet and all the other stuff won't work and I might need a little shove in the right direction, but for now it's working. I feel like I'm getting my mojo back.
So while I've been scarce, I appreciate it if you're still around. And hopefully you'll continue to hang in there with me while I work through all this jello in my brain.
*****
A few shout-outs to my peeps.
Congratulations to MPP's Mom on the birth of beautiful Sweet Potato! She joins her big brother My Pumpkin Pie who I am sure is very proud!
And as of Monday, we have the arrival of Moosebaby, son of Mitzi and Moose Green and little brother of Bob. Congrats to the happy family!
And last, but not least, happy anniversary to Aimee and Bryan of Greeblemonkey fame. Twelve years and going strong! And in no small coincidence, they were 26 when they got married...so were Joey and I, and we celebrate 12 years in December. Huh.
Oh, and one more thing. Monkey Man lost his first tooth after weeks and weeks of wiggling and wiggling. He was somewhat disappointed to only get money, I think he was expecting a new car or something.
I guess I should probably explain where I've been. Or at least try to.
You see, I always have had a certain amount of pride about my life. That I'm the "together one". That I'm the one that always has a great attitude, who doesn't let the little things get under my skin, who forges onward with a smile and a lame joke. Yup, that's me.
Or maybe not so much.
I've been depressed. There, I said it out loud. Slowly but surely, I felt like I was sliding backwards to where I was five years ago when I felt like I was just going through the motions. You know how it gets when you're just existing to exist? Putting one foot in front of the other without any kind of joy or emotion about your life? That numbness.
You know what I mean. I know you do.
I felt like the walls were closing in around me. What might have been insignificant problems a few months ago suddenly became insurmountable, like countless stones tied around my ankles and keeping me from gaining any momentum.
The kicker was that we had a little scare here at home. As in a Oh Crap, My Period Is Late scare. The kind that the Mirena IUD is supposed to prevent, although as most of the PIM's know we do have one member who went on to have Kiddo #3 with the Mirena. I was so freaked out that I refused to take a test until 2 weeks had passed, and the day I was headed out to get the test my period started.
And instead of relief, I felt kind of sad. Maybe a little disappointed. I know we've made the right decision for our family not having more children, but there was a teensy part of me that was secretly hoping that we would indeed have another. But things happen for a reason. The strangest part was that I was surprised at the wave of emotions and was kind of swept up in it. It was the icing on the craptastic cake that my life had turned into in the past month.
Things are getting better, though. I kind of kicked myself in the ass last week and realized that pretty much everything was something that I could control and at least improve or make go away. And I started feeling a lot better. Eating better. Getting some exercise. Spending time outside. Making sure I had some fun at work, which had become a very un-fun place to be. Reconnecting with my friends. And most of all, loving my family. I would be nothing without them.
Maybe at some point the exercise and the diet and all the other stuff won't work and I might need a little shove in the right direction, but for now it's working. I feel like I'm getting my mojo back.
So while I've been scarce, I appreciate it if you're still around. And hopefully you'll continue to hang in there with me while I work through all this jello in my brain.
*****
A few shout-outs to my peeps.
Congratulations to MPP's Mom on the birth of beautiful Sweet Potato! She joins her big brother My Pumpkin Pie who I am sure is very proud!
And as of Monday, we have the arrival of Moosebaby, son of Mitzi and Moose Green and little brother of Bob. Congrats to the happy family!
And last, but not least, happy anniversary to Aimee and Bryan of Greeblemonkey fame. Twelve years and going strong! And in no small coincidence, they were 26 when they got married...so were Joey and I, and we celebrate 12 years in December. Huh.
Oh, and one more thing. Monkey Man lost his first tooth after weeks and weeks of wiggling and wiggling. He was somewhat disappointed to only get money, I think he was expecting a new car or something.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a...
Bug Net Launcher from the big daddy of all educational toys, the Discovery Store! Stop on by Picks and Pans and see how much fun we had shooting bugs. And the neighbor's cat. Kidding, people! Thanks to Parent Bloggers Network for hooking me up yet again with what's sure to be a fun summer toy for the bug lover in your house!
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Mothers, mullets, mohawks, and monster trucks
Well, this weekend was our annual trip to the big monster truck show at the beach.
Remind me again why we continue to torture ourselves this way? Oh yeah, it's part of that whole parental sacrifice thing I guess.
Let me recap the past few days. The weather here has been abnormally odd. On Thursday night, I fell asleep on the couch just to have Joey wake me up and tell me casually as we're getting in the bed that there's a tornado watch in effect and oh, by the way, tornadoes sound like a freight train.
You know damn good and I well I didn't sleep a wink after that. The thunder was rolling like crazy, lasting for several minutes at a time and just as I'd slip back into sleep, RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE. Dammit.
Friday, we got down to the beach around 8 PM and decided to check into the hotel before heading down to one of the local raw bars to meet Malcolm and Paula. They live down there, you see, so when we get in the area we usually try to get together for a drink or ten. This time it was more like A drink since we had Monkey Man along with us and we had to retain our stellar hand/eye coordination so we could have our asses kicked in air hockey.
We got back to the hotel around 10:30 and all crawled into the bed, exhausted. The kicker to this is that somehow I screwed up our reservations and got two DOUBLE beds instead of two queen-size beds. Big mistake, as a 62-pound 6-year-old who flails wildly in his sleep all night definitely can't share a bed with a good-sized adult - and the two adults surely can't fit in that double comfortably. So I bit the bullet and volunteered for Sharing The Bed With The Monkey Man.
He coughed. He flailed. At one point, he got up on his knees in a dead sleep and scared the piss out of me, then collapsed on my stomach knocking the wind out of me. And all the while I kept thinking that it was hotter than Hades in the room.
As we discovered the next morning, it WAS hot in there. The air conditioning wasn't working and it was a balmy 80 degrees in our room. But we got dressed, called the front desk to see if they could send someone to fix the air, and went on our merry way since the show started at noon.
We got to Big Sam's our favorite breakfast place, to discover that there was a huge waiting list and we really didn't have time to wait that long to eat. At that point we hauled ass up to the boardwalk and found a place at one of the hotels that had a buffet...that was closing in 20 minutes. I don't think you've seen three people pile more crap on their plates than we did - it was kind of like "Toasted yak? Sure, put some of that on there. Eye of newt? Yeah, I'll take some of that too." So it all worked out but it was kind of hectic.
The show, honestly, is kind of tired. This is the third year in a row and they hadn't changed a damn thing about the show other than they had a few different monster trucks. At least the tickets are only $10, otherwise I'd probably be way more bitter about it. And this year was almost as cold and windy as last year, but this year we had New! Improved! Cold Rain! to add into the mix. At least it waited until 15 minutes before the end of the show before that started.
Anyhow, we got back to the hotel around 4 and discovered that our A/C still wasn't working. And although it was cold outside, it was steamy in our room which really wasn't helping Monkey Man's cough any. We called the front desk again and they sent another guy up to check it out and at least this guy seemed to know how to fix it.
Dinner was at our favorite spot, we crashed for the night, and today was the trip home.
Today hasn't been so great. I am honestly tired. Three nights of constantly interrupted sleep has made Mommy a cranky girl. Monkey Man woke up saying he was feeling bad so we took him to the urgent care just to have him tell the doctor that he felt fine. And the doctor sent us away with a dismissive wave, which made my blood pressure skyrocket to the point my head was throbbing by the time we got home. I seriously felt like beating my kid for telling the doctor that, and all he's done since we've gotten home is cough and lay on the couch. Argh.
But I got some nice cards from my boys, and have just been able to watch all the crappy TV my stomach can handle. It has been raining cats and dogs all afternoon so it's been a nice excuse to be a lazy pig.
So we're back. And this is going to be a ballbuster of a week. Yippee.
Remind me again why we continue to torture ourselves this way? Oh yeah, it's part of that whole parental sacrifice thing I guess.
Let me recap the past few days. The weather here has been abnormally odd. On Thursday night, I fell asleep on the couch just to have Joey wake me up and tell me casually as we're getting in the bed that there's a tornado watch in effect and oh, by the way, tornadoes sound like a freight train.
You know damn good and I well I didn't sleep a wink after that. The thunder was rolling like crazy, lasting for several minutes at a time and just as I'd slip back into sleep, RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE. Dammit.
Friday, we got down to the beach around 8 PM and decided to check into the hotel before heading down to one of the local raw bars to meet Malcolm and Paula. They live down there, you see, so when we get in the area we usually try to get together for a drink or ten. This time it was more like A drink since we had Monkey Man along with us and we had to retain our stellar hand/eye coordination so we could have our asses kicked in air hockey.
We got back to the hotel around 10:30 and all crawled into the bed, exhausted. The kicker to this is that somehow I screwed up our reservations and got two DOUBLE beds instead of two queen-size beds. Big mistake, as a 62-pound 6-year-old who flails wildly in his sleep all night definitely can't share a bed with a good-sized adult - and the two adults surely can't fit in that double comfortably. So I bit the bullet and volunteered for Sharing The Bed With The Monkey Man.
He coughed. He flailed. At one point, he got up on his knees in a dead sleep and scared the piss out of me, then collapsed on my stomach knocking the wind out of me. And all the while I kept thinking that it was hotter than Hades in the room.
As we discovered the next morning, it WAS hot in there. The air conditioning wasn't working and it was a balmy 80 degrees in our room. But we got dressed, called the front desk to see if they could send someone to fix the air, and went on our merry way since the show started at noon.
We got to Big Sam's our favorite breakfast place, to discover that there was a huge waiting list and we really didn't have time to wait that long to eat. At that point we hauled ass up to the boardwalk and found a place at one of the hotels that had a buffet...that was closing in 20 minutes. I don't think you've seen three people pile more crap on their plates than we did - it was kind of like "Toasted yak? Sure, put some of that on there. Eye of newt? Yeah, I'll take some of that too." So it all worked out but it was kind of hectic.
The show, honestly, is kind of tired. This is the third year in a row and they hadn't changed a damn thing about the show other than they had a few different monster trucks. At least the tickets are only $10, otherwise I'd probably be way more bitter about it. And this year was almost as cold and windy as last year, but this year we had New! Improved! Cold Rain! to add into the mix. At least it waited until 15 minutes before the end of the show before that started.
Anyhow, we got back to the hotel around 4 and discovered that our A/C still wasn't working. And although it was cold outside, it was steamy in our room which really wasn't helping Monkey Man's cough any. We called the front desk again and they sent another guy up to check it out and at least this guy seemed to know how to fix it.
Dinner was at our favorite spot, we crashed for the night, and today was the trip home.
Today hasn't been so great. I am honestly tired. Three nights of constantly interrupted sleep has made Mommy a cranky girl. Monkey Man woke up saying he was feeling bad so we took him to the urgent care just to have him tell the doctor that he felt fine. And the doctor sent us away with a dismissive wave, which made my blood pressure skyrocket to the point my head was throbbing by the time we got home. I seriously felt like beating my kid for telling the doctor that, and all he's done since we've gotten home is cough and lay on the couch. Argh.
But I got some nice cards from my boys, and have just been able to watch all the crappy TV my stomach can handle. It has been raining cats and dogs all afternoon so it's been a nice excuse to be a lazy pig.
So we're back. And this is going to be a ballbuster of a week. Yippee.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
A little eye candy for the ladies
Remember this commercial?
This pretty much sums up Tuesday afternoon at my office.
About six months ago, some no-name construction company started building two spec office buildings directly behind our little office complex. We had a big time watching all the OSHA violations like guys dangling off the roof and such. The one thing that was lacking, though, was any good eye candy.
The accounting department windows look directly into the backs of these two new buildings, so we would sit in Robin's office in the mornings and watch the magic happen. Then, sadly, the shell of the buildings were completed and we hadn't had anyone over there in at least two months working.
Until today. The fine men of the power company were outside working on one of the power poles when I was in Robin's office returning a folder.
"Hey, look at that guy," said Robin, "He's pretty hot!"
I peered out the window. Yup, he was hot all right. He was probably in his mid-40's, had a goatee, and was built like things I've dreamed about. He was on the ground while his cohort (who wasn't hot) was up in the cherry picker messing around with the lines.
Suddenly, the guy walked over to the company truck and started taking his shirt off. "Holy shit! He's taking his freaking shirt off!" We all went running to the window. But he was slick, our little power man was, he positioned himself so we got just a flash of naked flesh.
By this point there are several of us gathered at the windows in the office. He turned away from the truck, buttoning his shirt back up. Then, he reached around and picked up a water bottle from the side of the truck.
"Next thing you know, he's going to start pouring water all over himself," I joked.
And you know what? That's exactly what he did. He took his hardhat off and started pouring water all over the top of his head. Then he'd take a swig of water. Then pour some more over his head.
We were rolling on the floor. You know what? If he knew we were all standing there, he was a total dork. And even if he didn't know we were all watching? Total dork.
Good times, good times. Of course, this is what you usually get on a construction site:
This pretty much sums up Tuesday afternoon at my office.
About six months ago, some no-name construction company started building two spec office buildings directly behind our little office complex. We had a big time watching all the OSHA violations like guys dangling off the roof and such. The one thing that was lacking, though, was any good eye candy.
The accounting department windows look directly into the backs of these two new buildings, so we would sit in Robin's office in the mornings and watch the magic happen. Then, sadly, the shell of the buildings were completed and we hadn't had anyone over there in at least two months working.
Until today. The fine men of the power company were outside working on one of the power poles when I was in Robin's office returning a folder.
"Hey, look at that guy," said Robin, "He's pretty hot!"
I peered out the window. Yup, he was hot all right. He was probably in his mid-40's, had a goatee, and was built like things I've dreamed about. He was on the ground while his cohort (who wasn't hot) was up in the cherry picker messing around with the lines.
Suddenly, the guy walked over to the company truck and started taking his shirt off. "Holy shit! He's taking his freaking shirt off!" We all went running to the window. But he was slick, our little power man was, he positioned himself so we got just a flash of naked flesh.
By this point there are several of us gathered at the windows in the office. He turned away from the truck, buttoning his shirt back up. Then, he reached around and picked up a water bottle from the side of the truck.
"Next thing you know, he's going to start pouring water all over himself," I joked.
And you know what? That's exactly what he did. He took his hardhat off and started pouring water all over the top of his head. Then he'd take a swig of water. Then pour some more over his head.
We were rolling on the floor. You know what? If he knew we were all standing there, he was a total dork. And even if he didn't know we were all watching? Total dork.
Good times, good times. Of course, this is what you usually get on a construction site:
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
If you just fell off the turnip truck...
Or someone asked you "were you raised in a barn," then today's review is for you!
Check out my review of "Were You Raised By Wolves" over on Picks and Pans. Hilarious book and a perfect graduation gift. Or something to leave on your bachelor coworker's desk because he forgets to put the toilet seat down. I'm just sayin'.
Stop over at Parent Bloggers Network to see what other exciting things we have going on...there's a little something for everyone!
Check out my review of "Were You Raised By Wolves" over on Picks and Pans. Hilarious book and a perfect graduation gift. Or something to leave on your bachelor coworker's desk because he forgets to put the toilet seat down. I'm just sayin'.
Stop over at Parent Bloggers Network to see what other exciting things we have going on...there's a little something for everyone!
Monday, May 05, 2008
I need elastic-waisted pants
I got back home yesterday and will be living on twigs and air for the next two weeks. Bleh.
Thursday afternoon, I flew to Boston to see my friend Meredith. And I ate and ate and ate. And we drank. A lot of martinis. And we talked until I was almost hoarse. The weather was atrocious. Like no higher than 50 degrees and rain the entire time. But we managed to keep ourselves pretty entertained and also got in some good relaxing time too.
Next month will mark 20 years since I moved down here from "up yonder." Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get used to being down here, and sometimes I wonder how in the hell I ever fit in up there.
Things I miss about living up yonder:
The bread. Oh god, the bread is divine.
Authentic Italian food that doesn't taste like Ragu.
Good pastries and baked goods.
People that tell it like it is.
That you can actually drive and get somewhere without having people driving 30 in the fast lane.
Having stores actually be open on Sunday, and even *gasp* some before NOON.
Things I don't miss about living up yonder:
People constantly invading my personal space. I'm sorry, but when I'm going through a rack of clothes in a store having someone almost stick their head in my crotch to grab something from the rack underneath it is a tad unsettling.
The traffic. As in having to drive like you're in a Sherman Tank just to go to the CVS.
The lack of good iced tea.
The lack of personal warmth in some of the people working in the restaurants and stores. Seriously, I don't want to have a deep conversation with you but something other than surly indifference would be lovely.
It's good to be home. And even better, I missed three days of In-Law Interaction, which in itself was well worth crossing the Mason-Dixon line.
Thursday afternoon, I flew to Boston to see my friend Meredith. And I ate and ate and ate. And we drank. A lot of martinis. And we talked until I was almost hoarse. The weather was atrocious. Like no higher than 50 degrees and rain the entire time. But we managed to keep ourselves pretty entertained and also got in some good relaxing time too.
Next month will mark 20 years since I moved down here from "up yonder." Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get used to being down here, and sometimes I wonder how in the hell I ever fit in up there.
Things I miss about living up yonder:
The bread. Oh god, the bread is divine.
Authentic Italian food that doesn't taste like Ragu.
Good pastries and baked goods.
People that tell it like it is.
That you can actually drive and get somewhere without having people driving 30 in the fast lane.
Having stores actually be open on Sunday, and even *gasp* some before NOON.
Things I don't miss about living up yonder:
People constantly invading my personal space. I'm sorry, but when I'm going through a rack of clothes in a store having someone almost stick their head in my crotch to grab something from the rack underneath it is a tad unsettling.
The traffic. As in having to drive like you're in a Sherman Tank just to go to the CVS.
The lack of good iced tea.
The lack of personal warmth in some of the people working in the restaurants and stores. Seriously, I don't want to have a deep conversation with you but something other than surly indifference would be lovely.
It's good to be home. And even better, I missed three days of In-Law Interaction, which in itself was well worth crossing the Mason-Dixon line.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
