So today was half way through the dreaded 3 day weekend. All parents know what I'm talking about. It's hard enough to keep them occupied for 2 days and then a holiday comes about. I am ready to gouge out my own eyes, call myself in to DHS, or blatantly shop lift just to get some peace and quiet. Jeremy and I discussed something more long term but I am trying to avoid felony charges. Jeremy doesn't care at this point.....
I am watching A bugs life instead of Brave tonight. A welcomed change at this point. Poor Flick being harassed by that asshole Hopper. I have worked on my homework all day today in between my MMA refereeing. By the way, Cooper may be in the lightweight category but he can handle himself up the ladder. He's wiry and persistent, he can make me beg him to stop.
I see Charleigh Joe mocking my behavior everyday and as I become my mother, she is becoming me. She runs down and tells the boy's supper is ready, go to bed, stop fighting. She is my minion and I love her. I'm still trying to figure out her hair though. It is curly? How the hell am I supposed to do it? I have never had an curly hair on my head (that I didn't do on purpose) and I have no idea how to fix it. I keep argan oil on it and blow dry it with a diffuser and it looks sloppy, if I dry in with a round brush she looks like a mini Nancy Grace. I don't know which one is worse!
We have plans all day tomorrow so hopefully I can get lost in a crowd and escape from the chaos. I hate to say that but at some point every parent has or will. So don't judge me. Don't judge me for my child rearing, judge me because I have a new-in-box bedside commode. That is a whole other story. You just never know. Go ahead and collect your guns and ammo, load your basement with canned goods, just be prepared to shit in a Walmart bag while I'm on the throne. Yeah, didn't think about that did you?
I have been limiting my contact with the news as it upsets me. Jeremy is fascinated by it and actually gets alerts on his iPhone (I don't get that kind of fascination?) and has let it slip about this crap with Syria. It upsets me so much. I can take 4 kids straight from school to Sam's Club sleepy, crying, and hungry but I can't take the real news.
Maybe I do the Sam's Club thing because they eat their snacks at the sample kiosks, stop crying long enough to get to the car and sleep all the way home....Whatever. I feel your judgement. Go ahead and shelter your kids, I prefer to welcome them to the real world. To thoroughly prepare them. Where everyone is a one-upper, people don't follow the rules, and its really really hard. Maybe my way isn't right, but it is the only way I know. If they can survive me, they can do anything they want.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Friday, August 30, 2013
The Day After!
I LIVE! Spoken in the voice of Mushu (Eddie Murphy in the movie Mulan).
For those of you who don't know me personally, I have quite a few kidney stones. Usually I can handle it and move on but I had a bad time yesterday. I had to leave work (which I hate) and come home and medicate. I am probably the only girl with a prescription for Flomax at my local pharmacy. Anyway, stripping off naked and twisting and turning til I was sore all over, I finally started to void again this morning. I had not voided for 18 hours, it was like Tom Hanks in any movie he has ever acted in. Anyway, I felt so much better and I lived through another one.
So now, I'm up and feeling great ready for the day. I plan on making the most of this time without the children to do some much needed homework and also just enjoy the question-less, no arguing, no running, fight-free environment. I'm going to watch all my crime shows stored on my DVR (48 hours, Dateline, etc.) while the kids are home and solve the crime before they do, all without having to pause it to break up a riot or answer an odd question.
Now I begin my day and await all that it has to hold, until 3pm, when "they" come home. Jeremy and I were discussing how we can't wait until they grow up and have families. We plan on randomly showing up and doing the same shit they have done to us. Draw on the walls with sharpies and crayons, pee all over the bathroom, drag shit out that you just put up, leave bread crumbs on the counter top, leave their car doors open until the battery is dead, call 911, fight like worst enemies, lose your keys, put important shit in the trash, bring in animals to take care of, the list just goes on. We plan on giving what we got, in our golden years we will strive to make their lives as memorable as ours has been.
On a positive note, I just got a couple of new bras. I'm sure this is not a big deal to most but to me, HUGE. I am a woman of "mammary means" and have a hard time finding the right undergarment. My favorite brand just went on sale at 40% off! I ordered 3. It takes the right kind of bra to lift and separate these jewels. I will tell you a secret that all the naturally big busted girls won't, after a certain age they don't look good without a bra on. My description would be tube socks full of sand, all the bulk on the bottom (as well as the nipple) and the stem or root of the breast is just exactly as I described, a stem. There is something about new undergarments that make you feel nice.
Oprah (our dog) has enjoyed the air conditioning in the house lately as I feel like its been too hot for her to be out. That and she got stuck under Jeremy's truck not long ago and we had to jack it up to let her get out. I let her in and she sleeps in the same spot. Jeremy was making fun of her because she snores while awake. She is a larger, older dog and doesn't want to be identified by her weight, she is perfect in my eyes. Bless her heart, the expression used in the South that makes it perfectly OK to talk about someone horribly. Truly it works. "She smells like ass and cat food, bless her heart." Everyone does it, it seems so harmless because you recognize the problem, want to say it, but not seem like a bitch. I use this expression often.
I really appreciate every one's views of my blogging, please feel free to leave comments or share my link. My hopes of becoming all I can be depend on YOU! Otherwise I'm just some heavy set funny girl who writes about her life so everyone can see, bless her heart.
For those of you who don't know me personally, I have quite a few kidney stones. Usually I can handle it and move on but I had a bad time yesterday. I had to leave work (which I hate) and come home and medicate. I am probably the only girl with a prescription for Flomax at my local pharmacy. Anyway, stripping off naked and twisting and turning til I was sore all over, I finally started to void again this morning. I had not voided for 18 hours, it was like Tom Hanks in any movie he has ever acted in. Anyway, I felt so much better and I lived through another one.
So now, I'm up and feeling great ready for the day. I plan on making the most of this time without the children to do some much needed homework and also just enjoy the question-less, no arguing, no running, fight-free environment. I'm going to watch all my crime shows stored on my DVR (48 hours, Dateline, etc.) while the kids are home and solve the crime before they do, all without having to pause it to break up a riot or answer an odd question.
Now I begin my day and await all that it has to hold, until 3pm, when "they" come home. Jeremy and I were discussing how we can't wait until they grow up and have families. We plan on randomly showing up and doing the same shit they have done to us. Draw on the walls with sharpies and crayons, pee all over the bathroom, drag shit out that you just put up, leave bread crumbs on the counter top, leave their car doors open until the battery is dead, call 911, fight like worst enemies, lose your keys, put important shit in the trash, bring in animals to take care of, the list just goes on. We plan on giving what we got, in our golden years we will strive to make their lives as memorable as ours has been.
On a positive note, I just got a couple of new bras. I'm sure this is not a big deal to most but to me, HUGE. I am a woman of "mammary means" and have a hard time finding the right undergarment. My favorite brand just went on sale at 40% off! I ordered 3. It takes the right kind of bra to lift and separate these jewels. I will tell you a secret that all the naturally big busted girls won't, after a certain age they don't look good without a bra on. My description would be tube socks full of sand, all the bulk on the bottom (as well as the nipple) and the stem or root of the breast is just exactly as I described, a stem. There is something about new undergarments that make you feel nice.
Oprah (our dog) has enjoyed the air conditioning in the house lately as I feel like its been too hot for her to be out. That and she got stuck under Jeremy's truck not long ago and we had to jack it up to let her get out. I let her in and she sleeps in the same spot. Jeremy was making fun of her because she snores while awake. She is a larger, older dog and doesn't want to be identified by her weight, she is perfect in my eyes. Bless her heart, the expression used in the South that makes it perfectly OK to talk about someone horribly. Truly it works. "She smells like ass and cat food, bless her heart." Everyone does it, it seems so harmless because you recognize the problem, want to say it, but not seem like a bitch. I use this expression often.
I really appreciate every one's views of my blogging, please feel free to leave comments or share my link. My hopes of becoming all I can be depend on YOU! Otherwise I'm just some heavy set funny girl who writes about her life so everyone can see, bless her heart.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Where do broken hearts go......not home unless the house is empty.
I'm pretty sure Dantes 7th level of Hell involves children fighting. When they are not screaming and assaulting each other, they are crying. My days and nights are consumed with disappointing them at every turn. I spend my free time plotting against their fun, laughter, and freedom. It is my job, I'm first and foremost a MOTHER.
As a lot of you know, I am a mother of 4 really good kids. These kids however, often piss me off beyond belief. I walked in the door after a long, hard day at work and my 10 y/o doesn't even look up from his Nook and says "Did you get my band money". I had tried to call my 16 y/o on my way home from work and my 2 calls went straight to voicemail, the 2 youngest are running around wreaking havoc, and yet I feel guilty.I'm sitting on the couch doing homework and my oldest calls my cell and says he's sorry he missed my call. I had to break it to him that I had been home for awhile and was currently in the living room. WTF! I will never understand how I got to this status. I remember how not too long how they rushed to the door just to see me, just me. Not to ask me a barrage of endless questions that did not include how I was or if I had a good day. Thus, that is why we don't let them vote. I love them so very much, just some days they aren't very likeable. Today would be a day described kinda like that.
I am lying in bed watching Brave (as I do every fucking night of my life) hoping to instill some female power in my youngest child and only daughter. I refuse to raise the victim, if I can help it. I detest the women of the world who tousle their hair and play coy, and life seems to follow them around begging them to take favor or perhaps that is just my jealousy. After all, a lot of those girls don't have to work 10 or 12 hours taking care of people who will never know their name. Those women sit on breakfast nooks and have breakfast with their friends and plan shit they saw on Pinterest (and actually do it, they are probably building those awesome pallet patio furniture sets as we speak) and wait on their husbands and children who ask how they are to come home. Damn those sluts. If only I had been born beautiful, with a waist.
Instead I'm considering offering specialty services on Craigslist. Not that kind, mind you but just a disturbing or even more so. I'll be the one offering baths and if you want to be treated like an adult baby for an hour and shit like that. If I thought I could make enough money to pay for Wyatt's tooth (broken doing the worm, just in case you missed that post) in cash, I would post tonight what days and nights I am available.
Oh well, so much for dreaming about paid for dental work. I'm back to the grind tomorrow for another 10 hours of anonymous work (if I don't get called in tonight) but, at least I'm working with my friend Deborah. She is one of the nicest people I know especially to be so hot. She's got guns like a professional wrestler, but she's all heart. Today was also 2 of my friends at work had birthdays today, D Money and Angie. Also 2 of the most genuine people I'll ever have the privilege of meeting.
So much going on right now, most of it good. I'm actually considering taking a trip, which if you know me that is really big time. I have this horrible morbid anxiety about traveling. I don't know why but I will turn into a blubbering mass of anxiety the minute we get 2 hours outside of Overton County. This has prevented me from ever seeing the ocean, visiting all the great historical sites I watch documentaries on, accepting invitations for all sorts of things, and I'm sincerely considering doing it. My hopes are that slowly I can reduce my anxiety by introducing "safe" trips, either that or benzodiazepines.
Well, I should wrap this up and so I can make my "ways to disappoint the kids" list for tomorrow. The sound of children moaning in disappointment and crying just puts me at ease. Its better than Little Debbie's cakes for relaxation.
As a lot of you know, I am a mother of 4 really good kids. These kids however, often piss me off beyond belief. I walked in the door after a long, hard day at work and my 10 y/o doesn't even look up from his Nook and says "Did you get my band money". I had tried to call my 16 y/o on my way home from work and my 2 calls went straight to voicemail, the 2 youngest are running around wreaking havoc, and yet I feel guilty.I'm sitting on the couch doing homework and my oldest calls my cell and says he's sorry he missed my call. I had to break it to him that I had been home for awhile and was currently in the living room. WTF! I will never understand how I got to this status. I remember how not too long how they rushed to the door just to see me, just me. Not to ask me a barrage of endless questions that did not include how I was or if I had a good day. Thus, that is why we don't let them vote. I love them so very much, just some days they aren't very likeable. Today would be a day described kinda like that.
I am lying in bed watching Brave (as I do every fucking night of my life) hoping to instill some female power in my youngest child and only daughter. I refuse to raise the victim, if I can help it. I detest the women of the world who tousle their hair and play coy, and life seems to follow them around begging them to take favor or perhaps that is just my jealousy. After all, a lot of those girls don't have to work 10 or 12 hours taking care of people who will never know their name. Those women sit on breakfast nooks and have breakfast with their friends and plan shit they saw on Pinterest (and actually do it, they are probably building those awesome pallet patio furniture sets as we speak) and wait on their husbands and children who ask how they are to come home. Damn those sluts. If only I had been born beautiful, with a waist.
Instead I'm considering offering specialty services on Craigslist. Not that kind, mind you but just a disturbing or even more so. I'll be the one offering baths and if you want to be treated like an adult baby for an hour and shit like that. If I thought I could make enough money to pay for Wyatt's tooth (broken doing the worm, just in case you missed that post) in cash, I would post tonight what days and nights I am available.
Oh well, so much for dreaming about paid for dental work. I'm back to the grind tomorrow for another 10 hours of anonymous work (if I don't get called in tonight) but, at least I'm working with my friend Deborah. She is one of the nicest people I know especially to be so hot. She's got guns like a professional wrestler, but she's all heart. Today was also 2 of my friends at work had birthdays today, D Money and Angie. Also 2 of the most genuine people I'll ever have the privilege of meeting.
So much going on right now, most of it good. I'm actually considering taking a trip, which if you know me that is really big time. I have this horrible morbid anxiety about traveling. I don't know why but I will turn into a blubbering mass of anxiety the minute we get 2 hours outside of Overton County. This has prevented me from ever seeing the ocean, visiting all the great historical sites I watch documentaries on, accepting invitations for all sorts of things, and I'm sincerely considering doing it. My hopes are that slowly I can reduce my anxiety by introducing "safe" trips, either that or benzodiazepines.
Well, I should wrap this up and so I can make my "ways to disappoint the kids" list for tomorrow. The sound of children moaning in disappointment and crying just puts me at ease. Its better than Little Debbie's cakes for relaxation.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
I am so disappointed in you.
Have you ever noticed how things like "I'm so disappointed in you" or THE LOOK can really take you down? Sometimes I'd almost rather be chewed out or disciplined in some way rather than be disappointing, or how about being the bad guy in every situation? A lot of times I am cast as the bad person in a situation just because I'm an opinionated person and usually don't mind speaking up, it's when others who also feel the same way step back in the line when ask about it. I don't know why this is on my mind, but I kinda do.
Today is Gina's last day at our job. She is moving on to greener pastures with the person whose job I filled, Kathy. Gina is an awesome person, always smiling, laughing, so very smart and talented. She is very goal oriented and very realistic, I think that is a trait of a woman with 4 kids (wink wink). I know she will be fine, but will we?
Insert LOOK of disappointment at Gina.
Last night I was talking with Jeremy about this crazy TV show that was on. It was about some guy who murdered another person and called up a random friend to help him dismember the body! It was one of those reenactment type crime shows who use the same actors in each episode wearing bad wigs. Anyway, and the friend actually came over and helped dismember this person! I remember how hard it is to get someone to help you move, let alone DISMEMBER A BODY! That a friend. A really good friend. He would probably help you move, even the piano and the sleeper sofa (which actually is the same weight as a compact car).
I started to wonder: A. Who dismembers a body
B. How do you dismember a body
C. Why am I actually posting this
Actually this brings me to yesterday mornings events. Yesterday morning I was meeting my friends Nick and Blair (just bought a house, fire pit, yada, yada) for breakfast at 4:30 before I went into work. I didn't realize that they had cancelled until I checked the time on my phone. There was only one other guy in the place and so I thought, he looks nice enough and I sat down at the table adjacent to his booth.
I was wrong.
I introduced myself and said that we might as well enjoy breakfast together (IHOP, I was already there, might as well eat, French Toast that I didn't have to make or clean up after, uhm yes please) and he nodded. Clean cut guy, glasses, still a blonde as an adult which I though was odd. He begins by telling me his sleeping pattern is off (totally a psych thing to say, everyone else would say they hadn't slept well) and that he had school this morning. Did I mention it was 4:30AM? No classes in that town were starting until 8am. I ask him what he was taking and he replied engineering, but it was for a project he was working on.
He explained that he wanted to go "off the grid" and use his machine which makes gravity from air(?) to do so. I told him that as a mother and a professional person, I needed to ask him if he had or was planning a bunker, he looked at me and answered no. His body language and facial expressions said "She knows, now she must die, but she's a big girl so I'd better stun her and call Jimmy from 8th grade to help me dismember her."
He was still there when I left, no doubt leaving around 6:45 so he could perfectly back his vehicle into the perfect parking spot at his school and open his Trapper Keeper with his paper dolls inside, stroking the his mothers locket he now wore around his neck.
If I see his face on the news, I will be so disappointed.
Today is Gina's last day at our job. She is moving on to greener pastures with the person whose job I filled, Kathy. Gina is an awesome person, always smiling, laughing, so very smart and talented. She is very goal oriented and very realistic, I think that is a trait of a woman with 4 kids (wink wink). I know she will be fine, but will we?
Insert LOOK of disappointment at Gina.
Last night I was talking with Jeremy about this crazy TV show that was on. It was about some guy who murdered another person and called up a random friend to help him dismember the body! It was one of those reenactment type crime shows who use the same actors in each episode wearing bad wigs. Anyway, and the friend actually came over and helped dismember this person! I remember how hard it is to get someone to help you move, let alone DISMEMBER A BODY! That a friend. A really good friend. He would probably help you move, even the piano and the sleeper sofa (which actually is the same weight as a compact car).
I started to wonder: A. Who dismembers a body
B. How do you dismember a body
C. Why am I actually posting this
Actually this brings me to yesterday mornings events. Yesterday morning I was meeting my friends Nick and Blair (just bought a house, fire pit, yada, yada) for breakfast at 4:30 before I went into work. I didn't realize that they had cancelled until I checked the time on my phone. There was only one other guy in the place and so I thought, he looks nice enough and I sat down at the table adjacent to his booth.
I was wrong.
I introduced myself and said that we might as well enjoy breakfast together (IHOP, I was already there, might as well eat, French Toast that I didn't have to make or clean up after, uhm yes please) and he nodded. Clean cut guy, glasses, still a blonde as an adult which I though was odd. He begins by telling me his sleeping pattern is off (totally a psych thing to say, everyone else would say they hadn't slept well) and that he had school this morning. Did I mention it was 4:30AM? No classes in that town were starting until 8am. I ask him what he was taking and he replied engineering, but it was for a project he was working on.
He explained that he wanted to go "off the grid" and use his machine which makes gravity from air(?) to do so. I told him that as a mother and a professional person, I needed to ask him if he had or was planning a bunker, he looked at me and answered no. His body language and facial expressions said "She knows, now she must die, but she's a big girl so I'd better stun her and call Jimmy from 8th grade to help me dismember her."
He was still there when I left, no doubt leaving around 6:45 so he could perfectly back his vehicle into the perfect parking spot at his school and open his Trapper Keeper with his paper dolls inside, stroking the his mothers locket he now wore around his neck.
If I see his face on the news, I will be so disappointed.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Restless Leg Syndrome is so real, I feel like a fucking Cricket.
So, I'm awake. Against my will I am on the couch with my computer. I am in pain, my restless leg medication must have been switched with BITCH pills. I am so pissed off. Now that's out of the way I have, however been able to come up with some ideas for things. I blame this on my mother. She plans everything for everyone. Not that they ask, she feels like its her obligation. I am turning into my mother.
My friends Nick and Blair got married last year and just bought a house and I was wondering what Jeremy and I could get them as a housewarming gift. Since Blair is and excellent decorator, this has presented a challenge, until tonight. I have thought of the perfect gift for their new home. I am going to buy them a fire pit. Hopefully they don't already have one, and if they do well, FUCK. I will leave the gift receipt of course.
Also during this wonderful nocturnal session, I have figured out what I want done in my kitchen in regards to the wall that was removed. I have made some financial and personal decisions as well. School starts back for me on Monday. I hope this semester is better than last semester. Last semester sucked. The kids were on some sort of mission to kill me and/or themselves.
Cooper stuck a broom handle up into the fan blades and shattered the glass globe. I heard the screams as he came running up the hallway with Charleigh Joe clinging to him. They were both covered with blood and both crying. I went into triage mode. I quickly discovered all of the blood was Cooper's when he was trying to talk to me blood spatter was coming from his mouth, the piece of glass had fallen straight down and went through the cartilage of his nose occluding both nares. So all the blood couldn't drain out of his nose, it drained back into his mouth and throat. Now you and I both know the glass had to be removed, so I did it. Whew, that was bad. I further assessed the wound, and it indicated money, ugh a trip to the ER.
All of the mothers out there know this to be true never get hurt unless you are un-bathed. I had been un-bathed and gowned for 2 days, so I had Cooper sit on the couch with Matthew and an ice pack while I had a quick shower. Yes ladies, I had a kid who needed medical attention and I took 15 minutes to shower. There is no way that I could have ever entered any medical facility with this child and NOT gotten a DHS consult had I not taken a few moments for personal hygiene. Luckily I work with another nurse (Deborah, the one who probably still wears sexy shit to bed, see above blog)whose husband is a surgeon and they agreed to meet us at a local hospital.
Dr. K took such good care of Cooper and Deborah took such good care of me. I wondered after it was all over with and we were removing the drapes, how poor Charleigh Joe was doing as she was very upset with me taking her Cooper off without her. When we returned home, she was the first one who came running down the front porch steps to greet us. All was well with the world again.
Fast forward 2 weeks to the day for our next summer adventure. Saturday night around bedtime, I'm sitting on the couch with Charleigh Joe no doubt watching Brave for the 12th time that day. Charleigh Joe slips off he arm of the couch and immediately starts crying. I got up and looked at her and I immediately knew she had broken her arm, bad. I told Jeremy, who was on the other couch to get me a good magazine and some silk tape. He handed me a National Geographic and the tape and I carefully splinted the precious babies arm. Jeremy picked her up and I got the Monkey refillable ice pack (TJ Maxx 7.99) and set it on her arm.
I had to shower. Once again, I looked homeless. It also gave me time to think logically what to do. If I take this kid to the same ER I can just bet that we WILL get a DHS home visit. Because really, 2 kids in 2 weeks, it doesn't add up to a Full House episode. I showered and dried my hair, applied some mascara. We loaded up Charleigh Joe and took her to another ER, we immediately were taken back and x-rayed. She had broke both bones in her left forearm and probably needed surgery. Great. After splinting and receiving our discharge teaching and instructions, we went to Wal Greens and picked up her Codeine. She fretted all night and cried out. It was pitiful. The next morning I e-mailed my Speech Professor as I was scheduled to finish my last speech of the semester that day and explained to her that I could not come to class as we were waiting for a call from the orthopedic office to tell us when to come. She was very nice and said I could do it the next day, which was the final day of class.
All morning I waited for the call and finally we were summoned to the ortho office. We saw a PA and he never even unwrapped her arm. He looked at her x-rays and said she needed surgery and scheduled us the next day to come back and see the surgeon. I called my Professor again and she was very understanding and told me that I could do my speech the next day (final day). I dropped off Jeremy and the baby at the hospital for surgery and sped over to class and discovered I had made it too late. The class had ended without me giving my speech, the biggest graded project of the semester.
I tried to push it back in my mind and went back to Jeremy and Charleigh Joe who were waiting at the hospital. She knew something bad was about to happen, and so did I. She ended up having to get 7mg of Versed before she would let go of Jeremy for them to take her to surgery. I cried like a baby even though I knew they would take such good care of her. It broke my heart. I was comforted by friends in the lobby, my co workers stopped by and nodded knowing that any speaking would cause me to start crying again. Not very long after they took her back, I got the call that she was doing great. When they brought her back in the room, Megan and Pierson (SIL and nephew) and Teresa (BFF) were there bearing gifts for such a brave little girl.
They said she had done great and hadn't cried at all, until she saw me. She cried and I felt like I was the sorriest person on the face of the planet. She cried and I wanted to hit myself in the head with a shovel. It was horrible. So I called for pain medication immediately. This crying shit had to stop. I was moments away from jumping my fat ass off the roof of the building when she brought it in. It only took a few minutes and a few sips of juice and she was nice and comfortable. No crying.
This leads us to the final two events of my summer that almost caused me permanent harm, Wyatt's tooth and the van incident. Now before I begin to elaborate, let me give you some background information about me, my mother and our teeth. We are very sensitive about any kind of tooth issue. I have to take Valium for a filling. I have ask to be restrained before, my mother will start crying when you talk about tooth injuries or procedures.
I got a call from the local middle school in which Wyatt attends (less than one week into classes) telling me Wyatt had broken off his left front tooth and needed to be picked up. I ask how this had happened and she said Wyatt told her that he tripped over a chair. I called Jeremy and he raced to the school, as soon as they got to the van Wyatt busted out crying and admitted that he did not trip over a chair but had injured his mouth doing the "WORM". Jeremy called me and ask me what he should do, I told him to take him immediately to the dentist for it to be fixed.
Jeremy then told me the real story about what happened, and I briefly considered breaking off his other tooth. Unfortunately it was broken off at a bad point and the dentist felt like waiting a month to see if the tooth was even going to live before we did a root canal, and porcelain crown.
So now Tone Loc is having to roll around town with one front tooth broken off. It didn't stop him from going to the school dance the next night. Brave, brave boy. He has more chutzpah than Lady Gaga, cause I can assure you I would have had FMLA filed or had to convert to Islam to hide that anomaly.
The final event that made this summer memorable was the van incident. I had parked behind the van and Jeremy needed to go to town to pick up the kids. He told me that he knew he didn't have enough gas to get there and was gonna roll to a little mom and pop store a mile down the road and gas up.
He ended up backing over my car (again) and when he pulled off and parked, the van was tilted on a slant. He was unable to get it restarted it was so low on gas. He went to the back yard and got the gas can for the mower and emptied the contents into the tank, set off for the kids. The van never started again. He eventually went in my car and when he got back, he tinkered and fooled with it until Wyatt came forward and admitted he and Cooper had poured the gas out and filled it with water.
We did not strike the children. We wanted to. I'm sure that if the 2 previous ER visits requiring surgery weren't enough to get a home visit, what we wanted to do to them surely would. As I said, our summer was horrendous. I can't believe that I survived all that, worked full time and took all of my call back, 16 hours of school, sold MaryKay, and didn't commit suicide. It did enter my mind, but it would have been one more thing for me to do.
Well, I'm going to try to lie back down now. I hope my cricket legs will let me be. I hope there is enough room in the bed for me since Charleigh Joe has more kids than Angelina Jolie in the bed with us. I hope I rest.
My friends Nick and Blair got married last year and just bought a house and I was wondering what Jeremy and I could get them as a housewarming gift. Since Blair is and excellent decorator, this has presented a challenge, until tonight. I have thought of the perfect gift for their new home. I am going to buy them a fire pit. Hopefully they don't already have one, and if they do well, FUCK. I will leave the gift receipt of course.
Also during this wonderful nocturnal session, I have figured out what I want done in my kitchen in regards to the wall that was removed. I have made some financial and personal decisions as well. School starts back for me on Monday. I hope this semester is better than last semester. Last semester sucked. The kids were on some sort of mission to kill me and/or themselves.
Cooper stuck a broom handle up into the fan blades and shattered the glass globe. I heard the screams as he came running up the hallway with Charleigh Joe clinging to him. They were both covered with blood and both crying. I went into triage mode. I quickly discovered all of the blood was Cooper's when he was trying to talk to me blood spatter was coming from his mouth, the piece of glass had fallen straight down and went through the cartilage of his nose occluding both nares. So all the blood couldn't drain out of his nose, it drained back into his mouth and throat. Now you and I both know the glass had to be removed, so I did it. Whew, that was bad. I further assessed the wound, and it indicated money, ugh a trip to the ER.
All of the mothers out there know this to be true never get hurt unless you are un-bathed. I had been un-bathed and gowned for 2 days, so I had Cooper sit on the couch with Matthew and an ice pack while I had a quick shower. Yes ladies, I had a kid who needed medical attention and I took 15 minutes to shower. There is no way that I could have ever entered any medical facility with this child and NOT gotten a DHS consult had I not taken a few moments for personal hygiene. Luckily I work with another nurse (Deborah, the one who probably still wears sexy shit to bed, see above blog)whose husband is a surgeon and they agreed to meet us at a local hospital.
Dr. K took such good care of Cooper and Deborah took such good care of me. I wondered after it was all over with and we were removing the drapes, how poor Charleigh Joe was doing as she was very upset with me taking her Cooper off without her. When we returned home, she was the first one who came running down the front porch steps to greet us. All was well with the world again.
Fast forward 2 weeks to the day for our next summer adventure. Saturday night around bedtime, I'm sitting on the couch with Charleigh Joe no doubt watching Brave for the 12th time that day. Charleigh Joe slips off he arm of the couch and immediately starts crying. I got up and looked at her and I immediately knew she had broken her arm, bad. I told Jeremy, who was on the other couch to get me a good magazine and some silk tape. He handed me a National Geographic and the tape and I carefully splinted the precious babies arm. Jeremy picked her up and I got the Monkey refillable ice pack (TJ Maxx 7.99) and set it on her arm.
I had to shower. Once again, I looked homeless. It also gave me time to think logically what to do. If I take this kid to the same ER I can just bet that we WILL get a DHS home visit. Because really, 2 kids in 2 weeks, it doesn't add up to a Full House episode. I showered and dried my hair, applied some mascara. We loaded up Charleigh Joe and took her to another ER, we immediately were taken back and x-rayed. She had broke both bones in her left forearm and probably needed surgery. Great. After splinting and receiving our discharge teaching and instructions, we went to Wal Greens and picked up her Codeine. She fretted all night and cried out. It was pitiful. The next morning I e-mailed my Speech Professor as I was scheduled to finish my last speech of the semester that day and explained to her that I could not come to class as we were waiting for a call from the orthopedic office to tell us when to come. She was very nice and said I could do it the next day, which was the final day of class.
All morning I waited for the call and finally we were summoned to the ortho office. We saw a PA and he never even unwrapped her arm. He looked at her x-rays and said she needed surgery and scheduled us the next day to come back and see the surgeon. I called my Professor again and she was very understanding and told me that I could do my speech the next day (final day). I dropped off Jeremy and the baby at the hospital for surgery and sped over to class and discovered I had made it too late. The class had ended without me giving my speech, the biggest graded project of the semester.
I tried to push it back in my mind and went back to Jeremy and Charleigh Joe who were waiting at the hospital. She knew something bad was about to happen, and so did I. She ended up having to get 7mg of Versed before she would let go of Jeremy for them to take her to surgery. I cried like a baby even though I knew they would take such good care of her. It broke my heart. I was comforted by friends in the lobby, my co workers stopped by and nodded knowing that any speaking would cause me to start crying again. Not very long after they took her back, I got the call that she was doing great. When they brought her back in the room, Megan and Pierson (SIL and nephew) and Teresa (BFF) were there bearing gifts for such a brave little girl.
They said she had done great and hadn't cried at all, until she saw me. She cried and I felt like I was the sorriest person on the face of the planet. She cried and I wanted to hit myself in the head with a shovel. It was horrible. So I called for pain medication immediately. This crying shit had to stop. I was moments away from jumping my fat ass off the roof of the building when she brought it in. It only took a few minutes and a few sips of juice and she was nice and comfortable. No crying.
This leads us to the final two events of my summer that almost caused me permanent harm, Wyatt's tooth and the van incident. Now before I begin to elaborate, let me give you some background information about me, my mother and our teeth. We are very sensitive about any kind of tooth issue. I have to take Valium for a filling. I have ask to be restrained before, my mother will start crying when you talk about tooth injuries or procedures.
I got a call from the local middle school in which Wyatt attends (less than one week into classes) telling me Wyatt had broken off his left front tooth and needed to be picked up. I ask how this had happened and she said Wyatt told her that he tripped over a chair. I called Jeremy and he raced to the school, as soon as they got to the van Wyatt busted out crying and admitted that he did not trip over a chair but had injured his mouth doing the "WORM". Jeremy called me and ask me what he should do, I told him to take him immediately to the dentist for it to be fixed.
Jeremy then told me the real story about what happened, and I briefly considered breaking off his other tooth. Unfortunately it was broken off at a bad point and the dentist felt like waiting a month to see if the tooth was even going to live before we did a root canal, and porcelain crown.
So now Tone Loc is having to roll around town with one front tooth broken off. It didn't stop him from going to the school dance the next night. Brave, brave boy. He has more chutzpah than Lady Gaga, cause I can assure you I would have had FMLA filed or had to convert to Islam to hide that anomaly.
The final event that made this summer memorable was the van incident. I had parked behind the van and Jeremy needed to go to town to pick up the kids. He told me that he knew he didn't have enough gas to get there and was gonna roll to a little mom and pop store a mile down the road and gas up.
He ended up backing over my car (again) and when he pulled off and parked, the van was tilted on a slant. He was unable to get it restarted it was so low on gas. He went to the back yard and got the gas can for the mower and emptied the contents into the tank, set off for the kids. The van never started again. He eventually went in my car and when he got back, he tinkered and fooled with it until Wyatt came forward and admitted he and Cooper had poured the gas out and filled it with water.
We did not strike the children. We wanted to. I'm sure that if the 2 previous ER visits requiring surgery weren't enough to get a home visit, what we wanted to do to them surely would. As I said, our summer was horrendous. I can't believe that I survived all that, worked full time and took all of my call back, 16 hours of school, sold MaryKay, and didn't commit suicide. It did enter my mind, but it would have been one more thing for me to do.
Well, I'm going to try to lie back down now. I hope my cricket legs will let me be. I hope there is enough room in the bed for me since Charleigh Joe has more kids than Angelina Jolie in the bed with us. I hope I rest.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
So today was one of those days when you just don't want to not get dressed? Well, it's 5:30pm and I'm still in my gown. Yes, I said gown. I am one of those people under 60 and still continent who still wear the gown. I say continent, but after 4 children and a life of "hands on nursing" when you lug, tug, and pull all day, I really guess I should say not totally incontinent. I have come to realize that people are really particular about their nighttime attire and I include myself in that category.
I have always been a gown wearer, I like the freedom from pant legs twisting and turning, one less thing to pull off when I make one of my 50 or so trips to the bathroom, and its a one piece item. I realize that even my subconscious is trying to help me find ways of reducing the laundry.
I have realized that my age category is more of a T-shirt and sleep shorts generation, not because I make a point of asking, but because of the abundance of these items in stores. There are the teenage girl sets, "dorm age" girl sets,the sexy newlywed, mid 30's reality sets in "I'm never getting married", "fall asleep on the couch" doesn't mean we are sleeping together sets, and finally the "Winnie the Pooh and his honeypot" sets for the big girls. Next time you're out look and see, trying to find just the right gown for me can be tricky. By availability, I also conclude that only old people wear gowns, but those people are generally well off or in a trailer park. When I find one I like, its like Christmas when you're 5 and you open the Strawberry Shortcake doll you ask Santa for, and for a brief moment you KNOW he is real.
I have traditionally only gotten an new gown for the birth of my children. Mothers realize that it is important to look your best even after you have labored for hours and lost notable amounts of blood to deliver a child. After all this work, you try to take a shower, fix your hair, perhaps apply a touch of make up and slide that fresh gown over your head. You perch yourself up in the bed and wait for the onslaught of visitors to darken your door and admire how great you look after delivering the world's most beautiful baby. Its not for awhile that you notice that once the child is born, no one ever looks at you and your new gown. They all want their picture taken with the baby, so be prepared to relish in that fresh cotton garment, hopefully pre-laundered in Gain powder (original scent) and realize, its ok. You have a new gown to keep you happy.
So now you're thinking, so she only has 4 gowns (4 children), and the answer is yes. Until yesterday, when I was at TJ Maxx and found my new child. Cotton gauze, 3/4 length sleeves, mid calf length in a fresh gray color, it fit like it was made for me. I rushed to line at the checkout and it was everything I could do not to start sliding it on when I got to the car. I went and got my nails done with my friend Deborah (she's got a pretty tight package and I bet she still wears sexy shit to bed) and as soon as I got home, on with the gown. It was perfect. It was like when the royal baby was delivered. I felt like the prettiest fat girl in the world, I swear it even made me look slimmer.
Oh that Anne Klein, she must wear gowns too.
I have always been a gown wearer, I like the freedom from pant legs twisting and turning, one less thing to pull off when I make one of my 50 or so trips to the bathroom, and its a one piece item. I realize that even my subconscious is trying to help me find ways of reducing the laundry.
I have realized that my age category is more of a T-shirt and sleep shorts generation, not because I make a point of asking, but because of the abundance of these items in stores. There are the teenage girl sets, "dorm age" girl sets,the sexy newlywed, mid 30's reality sets in "I'm never getting married", "fall asleep on the couch" doesn't mean we are sleeping together sets, and finally the "Winnie the Pooh and his honeypot" sets for the big girls. Next time you're out look and see, trying to find just the right gown for me can be tricky. By availability, I also conclude that only old people wear gowns, but those people are generally well off or in a trailer park. When I find one I like, its like Christmas when you're 5 and you open the Strawberry Shortcake doll you ask Santa for, and for a brief moment you KNOW he is real.
I have traditionally only gotten an new gown for the birth of my children. Mothers realize that it is important to look your best even after you have labored for hours and lost notable amounts of blood to deliver a child. After all this work, you try to take a shower, fix your hair, perhaps apply a touch of make up and slide that fresh gown over your head. You perch yourself up in the bed and wait for the onslaught of visitors to darken your door and admire how great you look after delivering the world's most beautiful baby. Its not for awhile that you notice that once the child is born, no one ever looks at you and your new gown. They all want their picture taken with the baby, so be prepared to relish in that fresh cotton garment, hopefully pre-laundered in Gain powder (original scent) and realize, its ok. You have a new gown to keep you happy.
So now you're thinking, so she only has 4 gowns (4 children), and the answer is yes. Until yesterday, when I was at TJ Maxx and found my new child. Cotton gauze, 3/4 length sleeves, mid calf length in a fresh gray color, it fit like it was made for me. I rushed to line at the checkout and it was everything I could do not to start sliding it on when I got to the car. I went and got my nails done with my friend Deborah (she's got a pretty tight package and I bet she still wears sexy shit to bed) and as soon as I got home, on with the gown. It was perfect. It was like when the royal baby was delivered. I felt like the prettiest fat girl in the world, I swear it even made me look slimmer.
Oh that Anne Klein, she must wear gowns too.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
SO.....now I'm committed. I've finally started to figure out that no matter what, I am not in control. This Summer has been a fine example of the things that happen when you're "not in control".
The purpose of my Blog is to vent, post, reveal the things that perhaps maybe I should or shouldn't all, in the name of helping me and perhaps anyone who reads this. I have managed to make it thirty some odd years and really don't know any more than I did when I started.
I have a good job, a great family, a bright future, and no clue as to what I'm doing. If you are easily offended or don't like harsh language, perhaps this is not the blog for you. I will write in the same manner that I speak, usually foul. I consider profanity an art, and my 1st Amendment right. I say this just to remind you that I don't want you posting how the language was too much, just go watch Duck Dynasty or something.
I am a married, thirty-something nurse who works at hospital. Jeremy my husband, is a stay at home dad who makes the world go around, and the mother to 4 truly remarkable children. Despite what you feel about me, I am a very sensitive bitch. Shit hurts my feelings and I try to let it go. Each hurt leaves a scar and I use humor to deflect these stings. Some of the "happiest" people in the world are truly the most sad. Keep that in mind when you read some of my posts.
Over the next few blogs I hope to share some of my wonderful life altering stories in hope of keeping my sanity and sharing some experience or just perhaps making you laugh. My life is a roller coaster and I apparently bought an armband and its a slow night and the carnie is just laughing at me as I beg him to get off this ride.
So I hope to get a few people following me, and if not, there is always bikini modeling and that's a fact Jack!
The purpose of my Blog is to vent, post, reveal the things that perhaps maybe I should or shouldn't all, in the name of helping me and perhaps anyone who reads this. I have managed to make it thirty some odd years and really don't know any more than I did when I started.
I have a good job, a great family, a bright future, and no clue as to what I'm doing. If you are easily offended or don't like harsh language, perhaps this is not the blog for you. I will write in the same manner that I speak, usually foul. I consider profanity an art, and my 1st Amendment right. I say this just to remind you that I don't want you posting how the language was too much, just go watch Duck Dynasty or something.
I am a married, thirty-something nurse who works at hospital. Jeremy my husband, is a stay at home dad who makes the world go around, and the mother to 4 truly remarkable children. Despite what you feel about me, I am a very sensitive bitch. Shit hurts my feelings and I try to let it go. Each hurt leaves a scar and I use humor to deflect these stings. Some of the "happiest" people in the world are truly the most sad. Keep that in mind when you read some of my posts.
Over the next few blogs I hope to share some of my wonderful life altering stories in hope of keeping my sanity and sharing some experience or just perhaps making you laugh. My life is a roller coaster and I apparently bought an armband and its a slow night and the carnie is just laughing at me as I beg him to get off this ride.
So I hope to get a few people following me, and if not, there is always bikini modeling and that's a fact Jack!
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