NaBloPoMo Day 18: This will just have to do

November 18, 2006

I slept from 12:15-2:15 last night.

Took Deputy Dad to the E.R. at 3:00 AM.

Left the hospital at 8:30.

Attended Miss Attitude’s last soccer game at 12:00 noon.

Slept about an hour and a half this afternoon while SuperBoy napped.

In other words, I’m exhausted.  Drained.  Wiped out.  Weary.

The girls are spending the night with Mother-In-Law.  I just put SuperBoy to bed.  Though Deputy Dad has not yet passed the kidney stone, he’s currently drugged to the gills medicated and snoring like a buzzsaw resting comfortably on the couch.

I’m off to try to get some sleep while I can.  Goodnight, Internet.


You know how I love my lists

November 4, 2006

~ I spent this morning in the Emergency Room with Deputy Dad, whose kidneys decided to get stoned again. Today’s visit wasn’t as bad as the last time, since we were fairly certain we knew what was going on. Even so, any amount of time spent in an E.R. is too much, in my book.

~ Henry won’t eat. He won’t drink milk. He won’t eat puppy food. He won’t eat puppy food soaked in milk. I finally found some Puppy Formula at Wal-Mart, when I went to fill Deputy Dad’s prescriptions, and I managed to get Henry to eat a little; but he wouldn’t take much, and I’m a nervous wreck over this puppy business. It’s like having a freaking newborn in the house, with the worrying and the sleepless nights and the OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO.

~ Miss Attitude’s soccer team won their game this morning. Deputy Dad and I missed the game, since we were still at the E.R., but the in-laws made sure Miss Attitude got there. Times like today, I’m so thankful we live so close to them.

~ The Drama Queen’s (4th, 5th, & 6th grade) football team – the one she cheers on, that is – lost their game tonight, two games into the playoffs … … and all the moms guiltily breathed a sigh of relief that the season is finally over, and our Saturday nights are free once again.

~ Super Boy is making slow but steady progress with his Speech Therapy. I would REALLY love to just have him wake up one morning and be talking exactly as an almost-29-month-old toddler should be…but it’s just a slow process. He’s picked up a lot more words, and has even started experimenting with short sentences in the last couple weeks. (The very first sentence – “Mom had bath” – he said just after dumping an entire cup of water on me when I was bathing him.) His current favorite word, of course is, PUPPY! PuppyPuppyPuppyPuppyPUPPY! Heh.

~ I’m exhausted. It’s been one hell of a long day. I think I’ll head for bed now.

~ Dammit. I guess what I mean is, I’ll try to feed Henry again, and THEN I’ll go to bed. Sigh.


You know you’re chock-full of Momness when…(Part II)

November 2, 2006

…you find yourself looking forward to your dentist appointment, because it’s the closest thing to “me time” you’ve seen in months.


I’m down with OCD, yeah you know me

October 30, 2006

Maybe it’s the depression, threatening to capsize my little lifeboat as it roars and swells in angry waves.

Maybe it’s the stress, recently reaching near-record levels and jeopardizing the precarious state of my anxious mind.

Whatever the cause, the effects are cropping up in some rather unconventional ways.

You remember I told you about my odd need for physical even-ness? (If you’re just tuning in, please see #90 on my 140 Things About Me page. As if that weren’t idiosyncratic enough in and of itself, I’ve recently developed a few other peculiarities…

I am, apparently, physically incapable of taking the top cup off of a stack of disposable cups. Each workday morning, I arrive at the office and get a cup of coffee. I reach for a styrofoam cup, and…

I pick up at least four or five cups off the top of the stack, so that I can take a cup from the middle. I do this at fast-food joints and convenience stores, too. I think it stems from being neurotically worried about putting my mouth on a cup someone else has touched. Because I know that not everyone washes their hands as obsessively as I do. Which brings me to the next manifestation of my mental meltdown…

I am constantly aware of everything I touch, who might have touched it before me, and what germs I might be unknowingly acquiring. So I wash my hands eleventy thousand times a day, until they’re dry and chapped and raw. (But hey, I don’t use a new bar of soap for each hand-washing, like Jack Nicholson’s OCD character in As Good As It Gets. I’m not that bad … … yet.)

I think I had more to post about, but as I was perusing that IMDB link (that movie’s one of my favorites), I came across this quote:

Sell crazy someplace else, we’re all stocked up here.

And on that note, I think I’ll go curl up in the corner and cry.


You know you’re chock-full of Momness when…

October 27, 2006

living on the edge means leaving the house without a diaper bag.


The longest week in the history of weeks

September 16, 2006

This has been a fantastically shitty week. I’ve not posted about it, because I can’t seem to put the right words in the right order…so I’m just closing my eyes (literally! – you’ll forgive the typos, right?) and typing.

* Monday morning found me standing at the front desk of the pediatrician’s office on the phone with the kids’ insurance company, crying and (loudly) saying things like, “WHY did you terminate the coverage? I’ve talked to at least THREE DIFFERENT PEOPLE in your office in the past couple months, and EACH ONE told me the coverage would NOT be terminated. And now, here I am, standing in the doctor’s office WITH MY SICK CHILD, and they’re telling me the coverage is terminated.” and then (even more loudly) saying things like, “Okay, if YOU can’t do anything, then LET ME SPEAK WITH SOMEONE WHO CAN. I need to talk to someone who can FIX THIS; if you can’t do it, LET ME TALK TO SOMEONE WHO CAN.”

No one could.1

* Deputy Dad is back on night shift, leaving me with the majority of the Getting Everyone Where They’re Supposed to Be When They’re Supposed to Be There; and I’d be lying if I said I’m not totally getting my ass kicked feeling completely overwhelmed. For example, Wednesday afternoon went like this:

3:25 – Pick up Miss Attitude from school. (The Drama Queen stayed after school for cheerleading practice.)
3:40 – Pick up Big Boy from sitter.
3:50 – Arrive home, get Miss Attitude ready for her first soccer practice, change Big Boy’s diaper.
4:15 – Leave home to pick up The Drama Queen from cheerleading practice.
4:30 – Drop off The Drama Queen at gymnastics.
4:45 – Rush back home to grab Miss Attitude’s forgotten inhaler and Gatorade.
5:00 – Take Miss Attitude to soccer practice.
5:30 – Pick up The Drama Queen from gymnastics.
6:00 – Pick up Miss Attitude from soccer practice.
6:15 – Pick up dinner on the way home, where I was faced with feeding three kids, bathing Big Boy, keeping the girls on task through their showers and bedtime routines, and getting all the kids in bed.

Part of me likes all the busy-ness. I think I feel better when we’re all so busy – there’s simply no time for brooding when I’m running around at breakneck speed. But it IS a bit overwhelming, especially if anything goes wrong and throws a kink in the works. And keeping up with everybody’s schedules – work schedules, school schedules, doctor appointments, speech therapy, soccer practice, soccer games, cheerleading practice, football games, volleyball practice, volleyball games, and whatever else comes up along the way – is STRESSING ME OUT.

* I worry constantly about Big Boy’s speech delay. He’s had three therapy sessions so far – two with the developmental therapist and one with the speech therapist. I know it’s really too soon to be expecting a major improvement; he’s still getting to know the therapists. But, dammit, I want to hear my boy talk. He has added a few new words and phrases, including the heart-burstingly awesome phrase, “MY Mama”…but I just want so badly for him to be speaking as well as he should be.

* Did I mention I have found myself somehow signed up as the assistant coach of The Drama Queen’s volleyball team? Did I mention I am significantly overweight and not at all athletically inclined? Did I mention I am, apparently, a total schmuck?

* I’ve had a horrible, pounding, eyeball-searing headache all week long.

* Last night I dreamed about unpaid bills, sick kids, The Drama Queen’s school supplies (a whole nother story), and Big Boy’s speech delay. I’m even stressed out in my sleep.

Here’s hoping this coming week (which starts in about 32 minutes, my time) is better than this past week.

1The kids have had health insurance through a state-sponsored program. They’ve had the coverage for five or six years now, and it has been a godsend, especially with Miss Attitude’s asthma (her asthma prevention medications alone would run us over $500 a month without insurance). For some reason I have yet to figure out – and for which no one there can give me a clear explanation, they terminated our coverage effective August 31st and processed our renewal as a new application, with insurance coverage effective October 1st. Which means, until then, all doctor visits ($80 just to walk in the door) and prescriptions (Monday’s alone were $90 – and I only filled HALF of one of them.) come out of our pockets. And, of course, Miss Attitude is still having asthma trouble, and Big Boy started running fever today.


Blog rhymes with fog…

April 25, 2006

…but that’s not the point, not that there is one, so don’t go getting your hopes up, you’ll just be setting yourself up for disappointment.

. . .

So, yeah, I’m still here. Lots of craziness around here lately. So much craziness, it can only be contained in list format!

  • We traded in both of our gas guzzlers – my good-for-family-travel-but-costs-an-arm-a-leg-and-a-major-organ-to-fill-up Suburban and Deputy Dad’s big-honkin’-macho-man-4-wheel-drive-15-miles-to-the-gallon pick-em-up truck and got a … ::whispering:: … minivan. A 2003 Pontiac Montana, to be exact. I suppose this officially makes me a Soccer Mom…although, since neither of the girls plays soccer, I’m not so much a Soccer Mom as a Basketball-Gymnastics-Softball-Chess Club Mom. I’ve been blasting Shakira over its little minivan speakers since we got it last week, in an effort to somehow convince myself that I’m not really, you know, driving a minivan. But even a constant loop of “Hips Don’t Lie” isn’t enough to refute the undeniable evidence that yes, I am, in fact, you know, driving a (gulp) minivan. Any “cool factor” I was clinging to is now dead, dead, dead, and gone the way of my 1980’s leg warmers and Trapper Keepers. Sigh. Perhaps our new ride needs some flames, à la Circus Kelli?
  • I think I exceeded the Maximum Number of Links Per Entry Allowed by Law in that last item, and it took me so long to type it, now I don’t remember what else I…wait! Got it!
  • The Drama Queen’s basketball season is over. They had their tournament last week. She was so excited, bless her little heart. “MOM! We got SIXTH PLACE in the CHAMPIONSHIPS!” So happy and thrilled. The first person to remind her there were only six teams will be condemned to an eternity of watching Congressional debates on CSPAN – without sound – while listening to the magical song stylings of Deputy Dad’s Butt Trumpet.
  • Now that basketball is over, it is of course time for softball sign-ups. AND next week begins the last month of school, which means we’ll be barraged with awards assemblies, the first grade play, end-of-school parties, Vacation Bible School, and the like. Lord help me. Here we go again.
  • Big Boy is KILLING ME these days, with the whiny and the tantrums and the clingy and the squawking and the OH MY GOD ENOUGH ALREADY. I was relieved when we got him off his pacifier a couple months ago, but I swear sometimes I’m thisclose to buying more, just so I can stick one in his mouth to SHUT. HIM. UP.
  • Other than that, you know, he’s a perfect angel. Really.
  • I seem to be pulling away from the blogosphere a bit…not posting much, not responding to comments, not visiting my blog neighbors as frequently, and not commenting as often as I used to, when I do visit. I think maybe it’s because I seem to be focusing more on Real Life. And if that’s it, then that’s good, right? Because, hey, I love my computer friends and this little blog world, but living outside of this virtual reality is good for the psyche, don’t you think?