Damn, teeth are expensive

Aquafresh Bubble Gum Flavor: $1.84

Crest mouthwash: $5.04

Pronamel toothpaste: $5.69

Oral B Replacement Brush Heads: $24.99

Cleaning last month: $169

Crown last week: $1,166

Antibiotics and narcotics associated with infection of above: $48

Total: Damn!  

I do not like to converse whilst showering

I step into nice hot shower, where I get all nice and warm, a welcome break from the chilliness of the morning air at the farmhouse in New Hampshire where we're visiting my brother and his family.  Then I hear.....

MOM!!!!!!!

I stick my head out.  Cold air rushes in.

WHAT? (thinking there better be a damn good reason for interrupting my hot shower in a cold farmhouse)

WHERE ARE MY SNOWPANTS?

BY THE FIREPLACE!  

OH. OK!

Mutter, mutter, that was not a good reason since they were in plain friggin' sight.  I stick my head back in, warm up again, lather up....

MOM!!!!!!!

I lean out with suds in my hair, trying not to get suds in my eyes, as the cold rushes into my shower again.

Me, exasperated: WHAT?!????!!!!!!

WHERE IS MY PARKA?

Me, leaning out again: WHAT, ARE YOU BLIND BOY?  RIGHT BY WHERE YOUR SNOWPANTS ARE!

OH. OK!

Good grief.  I'm beginning at this point to think he really is blind, and just as I think that... 

MOM!!!!!

Now I'm beyond exasperated and into irritated.  Still with suds in my hair, I lean out and inform him that

YOUR GLOVES, SOCKS, WORM*, HELMET, GOGGLES, VEST, AND APPARENTLY YOUR BRAIN ARE ALL BY THE FIREPLACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  AND STOP PESTERING ME WHILE I'M IN THE SHOWER! 

Why can't I just have 5 minutes of peace?  Its the curse of motherhood.

* the worm is one of these, I don't know the actual name of it.  Its an absolute necessity when skiing or sledding when its single digits in New Hampshire.  He also wears one under his bike helmet when its cold (relatively speaking, when its high 20s, low 30s).

The dog that deadbolts

We ordered pizza tonight - to my utter delight, our local pizza joint now carries gluten free pizza - and the delivery guy arrived.  As always, Dog and Dogley went absolutely ballistic at the sight of a stranger at the door, so I stepped outside and closed the door to sign the receipt and get the food.  As the guy walked away, I turned back to come back into the house.  

Only now, the door was locked. 

Wha????  I jiggled wiggled and tried absolutely everything, but the dabgum door was utterly and irrevocably (at least from the outside) l-o-c-k-e-d. I couldn't figure out how I had locked it by shutting it - maybe I'd pulled it too hard or something weird, some strange confluence of space and time?  The only lock we have is a deadbolt that turns though, so I just was utterly confused, until I saw Dog (very tall, very big) Dog bounding up and down pawing the door ... and it all clicked. Pun intended.  I tried everything to unlock it from the outside, but since its a deadbolt, the idea is that, well, it doesn't open from the outside.  And we got our money's worth - it didn't open.  [sidebar: I feel very safe at night now.]

But here's the problem now.  It's raining (of course it's raining).  I'm standing outside holding hot food.  My paralyzed husband is inside.  My non-paralyzed child is not home.  I don't have my phone on me.  I'm wearing just pajamas and socks.  The only other door is around back.  Sucking it up, I plunge through the front, then side, then back yard, where I step in a pile of dog doo.  Great.  I sit on the edge of the porch, take off my soaked and utterly disgusting socks and go to the back door.  I try the handle JUST as I remember I had deadbolted the back door the last time I let the dogs out.  

Now I'm am 100% deadbolted out of my house - front and back doors.  I have one last hope though ... the garage door.  We have a keypad, so I punched in our code and much to my relief, the door opened.  I came flying in the door and breathlessly asked Wheeler if he heard all of the commotion.  He blithely looked up and said "No".  NO?!?!   I shook the door, yelled at the dog, swore like a sailor as I walked around the house, jiggled the back door, swore some more and then opened and came in the garage door ... and he didn't notice that I was gone for all that time just answering the door for pizza???  For an observant guy, he sure is clueless sometimes.

On the plus side, perhaps I can just tell Dog to go lock the door instead of having to get up and do it myself from now on.

Defective gift

I got this coffee grinder for my birthday (which is on Christmas, if you recall from 6 years of posting it on this very blog), but so far my chamber maid hasn't arrived....

Other than this defective gift, my Christmas was great - as was everyone else's.  

Dog washing

I just washed the dogs in coconut shampoo.  And now the house and dogs smell disconcertingly like a giant semi-dog scented pina colada. Throw in the pine scented candle I've been burning all day and we are scentsibly confused here.  

One of my better gifts

Just exactly how stupid do they think I am?

The NY Times charges $15 a month (get that, $15 A MONTH) for full online digital access.  Free access is limited to 20 articles a month.  Shoot, I read 20 articles a day - and that's not an exaggeration most days.  I read the digital equivalent of cover to cover every day; its pretty much my only news source.  So for the past year or so I've been paying $15 a month for the all you can eat buffet of liberal elite media. 

Today I logged on and there was a big banner ad "Cyber Monday Sale! 50% off Digital Access for 1 Year!".  Really?!?!  WOW!  So I clicked through all the screens, filled out all the boxes, and hit enter.  It then informed me that I'm not eligible because I already have an active digital subscription. 

SERIOUSLY? 

First of all, I am precisely the customer you should reward. It pisses me off that I can't get as good of a deal as the guy off the street. 

Secondly, and perhaps should be firstly, the digital access is solely controlled via an email username/password combination.  Let's see.  I'm gonna put on my ole thinking' cap, some smokes ah gonna blow outta my ears while I do somes thinkin' and golly gee gosh, I'll just CANCEL my current subscription and sign up under another email address.  HELLO?!?!?!  What kind of idiot do they think I am???????

So I clicked through all the menus to cancel my online subscription and guess what, you can't cancel your online subscription online.  You have to CALL.  Gee, they make it so convenient.... So I duly called. "Hello, this is the NY Times Customer Service Line, please hold while we transfer you to one of our customer service agents". 

[Sidebar your honor: why do they have to transfer you?  Since I called directly in, do they really have to transfer me?  I digress.]

When I talked to someone, I told them exactly why I was canceling and exactly what I was going to do - sign up under another email address ... because (say it with me:) I'm not stupid.  So she says "If I give you 4 more weeks for 99 cents would you consider staying?  Me: uhhhhh, no.  She then says "If I give you 2 months at half price would you consider staying?".  Me: uhhhh, no, I'm going to get 12 MONTHS at half price by signing up under another email address!  She then says "Is there anything else I can help you with?"  I said "Yes, you can tell someone that it is a very bad idea to penalize your curent customers".  She said "Thank you, have a nice day" click. 

So now I'm signed up for 1 year at half price under Wheeler's email address.  Well duh.

I love to wrap presents

AND I'm good at it!

Social justice

Offspring, the other day as we were walking to the park, starting talking about social justice.  Only he didn't know it was social justice.

"If I was in charge of the world, the very first thing that I would do is totally get rid of money.  Money just messes everything up.  But when I told my dad that he said that no one would go to work then, but I think that at least EMS would volunteer.  I mean, they are nice, they save lives and stuff.  So I think that would be ok.  Then I would ban war.  If anyone disagreed, they'd have to settle it by playing rock paper scissors.  And I'd also make it so everyone had to pay the same amount of attention everywhere".

What do you mean by that? I asked.

"You know, like some neighborhoods - like ours - are really REALLY nice with trees and brushes and clean playgrounds, but other places aren't.  Like, they would all have to be the same amount of nice instead it being so unfair.  And then back to that job thing, about money, EMS would volunteer, but everyone else could barter.  Like someone might fix your car if you designed a clinical trial for them mom". 

Well, it was a good idea up to that point ...  I'm not sure I know any mechanics who need a clinical trial designed ... but with a few degrees of separation it might actually work.  He went on with all the other ways that he would change the world, and dammit I can't remember all of them because its been a few days since the conversation but it all boiled down tot essentially leveling the playing field so that everyone has an equal shot at a good life.  That everyone has the same basic slate to start from and that you aren't disadvantaged just because of who you are or where you live or your lack of money, status or immigration status.  I was proud of him - and I'm proud of me for raising a child who has come to believe in social justice.

He may be naive right now about how the world works, but maybe if more of us were a bit more idealistic in our thinking, the world might change for the better.  Just a little at a time.

The good parts of quadriplegia

Good things about being married to a totally paralyzed quad. First, the totally obvious stuff:

• Outstanding parking
• Excellent seating options at events (usually, but if not, I piss and moan until I get my way by threatening public exposure, humilitation and just my general wrath)
• You get lots of attention, nearly always polite and caring.

The not so obvious stuff:

• You never have to go through a turnstile at an event, or metal detector. His chair would sorta make the wands go dingy-dingy-dingy so they just wave us through. All of us. Hmmmmm.
• Small Boy can ride on Wheeler when he's tired of walking.
• He always has a place to sit. I never have to bring a lawn chair for Wheeler.
• His chair reclines, so Small Boy and Wheeler can lay back and study the stars together from the same vantage point.
• You have a place to hang all of your shopping bags, purse, lunch bag, backpack. Just lop it over the top of the headrest and/or hang it off the carabeeners bolted to the back of his chair.
• We have an uber cool bed that goes up, down, reclines, tilts, and changes its own sheets (just kidding about that last one).
• We have an overhead lift in our bedroom to get him in/out of his chair/bed/showerchair that lifts him 6 feet in the air and tracks 15 feet long.  Its WAY cool.  
• You get to weird people out by staring back at them when they stare rudely at Wheeler.
• We are almost always seated immediately at a restaurant, even when there is an hour wait for anyone else. It's the "gimpathy" thing I guess. Or they hope he doesn't drop dead while he's there so get him in and out asap. 
• You get to push those wheelchair door opener things! (even though I could perfectly well open the door and just hold it)
• When you roll into Starbucks, the four people sitting at the single table prominently labeled for disabled customers, all immediately BOLT away and look terribly sheepish (even though there's absolutely nothing wrong with sitting there if there's no disabled person there .... but they seem to get embarrassed anyway, happens every time)
• When something irritating happens due to his disability, I get to holler and yell, shake my finger and say "ADA thing, and ADA that, ADA shigga, ADA ragga, ADA bliggablogga, and DO WHAT I WANT RIGHT NOW". And then, miraculously they do. Ahhhh, power. Yes, it corrupts. (during these episdoes Wheeler shrinks into his chair as if he has never seen this crazy ranting woman in his entire life)
• I am in charge of the fork. If I want the first bite, I get it. 
• Wheeler has a super cool environmental control unit that turns lights and fans and all sorts of things on and off. Dude. 
• He knows absolutely everything trivial thing about everything. Ummm, ok, so that's unrelated to being a quad, it's just Wheeler being Wheeler.

On the whole though? We'd go with not paralyzed..... 

Me versus the cockroach

Can I just say that cockroaches scare the crap-ze-ola outta me. As in, huge eyes, rapid heartrate, constricted blood flow to the brain, doe in the headlights, screaming banshee SCARED of cockroaches. Maybe it's just disgusted? No, I'm outright scared of them. The mere thought of one touching me, much less crawling on me makes me twitch uncontrollably and brush my self off with my hands. And since Wheeler has that little problem called complete and total paralysis from the shoulders down, I have had to become bug killer extraordinaire. Including cockroaches. THIS WAS NOT IN MY LIFE PLAN!!!!!!!! Bugs. *shudder* 


I have managed to conquer my phobia to bees and other flying insects enough to kill them with chemical, mechanical or aquatic means.  But cockroaches are where I draw the line. I am completely phobic about them. But if I see one and I do not hunt it down like a dog and kill it, then it will be in my house forever.  And it might CRAWL ONTO ME OHMYGOD! So I have no choice but to find it and kill it myself. 


Recently, I have seen a huge cockroach in our master bedroom 2 times now. The first time it got away before I got get a large object to smash it with (there ain't no way on the face of the planet I would squish it with my hands no matter how desperate I got, that baby would get to snuggle up in bed with me before I smushed it with my hands).  But last night, when that sucker made his second appearance, I was prepared. I had shoes and books all over the bathroom ready to pick up and kill from any position at any time.  So when I spied him, I slowly picked up the nearest shoe and I whammed him with all my might. Confident that I'd be writing his (probably lengthy given his size) obituary, I put the shoe down.  


Then that little sucker started to crawl away!!!!!!!! 


I whammed him again - even harder. He STILL kept crawling, so I stood on him (shoes on of course) and ground him into the tile till he was a mushy pulp. But EVEN THEN this bug twitched an antennae when I moved my gazillions times his body mass me off of him, so I scooped him up with toilet paper and flushed him down the toilet. Then I flushed again in case he knew how to swim. Then once more to ensure his safe passage to the sewage system. And then one last time for good measure.

I proceeded to wash my hands and arms with a most vigorous effort even though I hadn't even touched him technically. It just made my skin crawl at the thought. Then I took the shoe outside and it's been sitting there ever since. Do you think incineration would be enough to get the bug juice off of it?

Shudder.

There are gads of advantages to being married to a quad, but that is one DEFINITE downside. Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-yuck.

Sure signs you are the spouse of someone with a spinal cord injury

Sure signs you are an SCI caregiver wife:

• When you know quad doesn't mean the square in the middle of the campus
• When every third person you meet in public says to you in a voice of hushed reverence, with a gentle pat on your arm and an ever so small tear glinting in their eye, that "you are so special to be with him"
• When people ask of you "are you his mother"? or "are you his nurse?"
• When people speak to you instead of your perfectly articulate sci'ed mate
• When you routinely discuss the finer points of bowel movement management at dinner (often in public... without even noticing)
• When you really miss not having hubby with you because you don't have his wheelchair on which to hang your purse or shopping bags
• When your husband says "I think I need to pee", it's you that gets up
• When there is a cockroach, wasp or other horribly scary bug in the house, YOU are the one in charge of killing it.
• When you are really good at fixing wheelchairs, clogged toilets and any manner of small electrical devices
• When you visit someone who is sick in the hospital, and they ask for a drink of water, you start to hold a drink up to their mouth so they can take a sip, and check to make sure they’re properly padded in bed and their heels aren’t touching the mattress.... and then remember: oh crap, they're not paralyzed!
• When you can build a 4 foot section of a chain link fence solely out of zip ties and duct tape
• When you’re flipping the TV channels and you see the SCI-FI channel, and your first thought is that it must be some show on Spinal Cord Injury
• When you holler at your sci'ed hubby to get off his ass and hurry it up, people around you look completely aghast at your horrible treatment of the disabled
• When the phrase "the crips and the bloods" means hemorrhoids in the disabled
• When you are always on top, and related, rather than ask your husband if he's "in the mood", you have to go check
• When you are in complete and total charge of the tv flipper
• When you can diagnose a UTI with one whiff, perform extensive range of motion, percussive quad coughing, change a suprapubic catheter while half asleep and perform brain surgery because its all considered "custodial care" by your insurance company
• When your sci'ed mate is in the hospital, you are quasi-admitted yourself since you can't leave him alone there with a call button he can't operate
• When your dog leaves a dead rabbit on the doorstep, YOU are the one out digging the hole to bury it

And the number one sure sign that you're a quad caregiver wife .....

• You found this post funny

This cannot be good.

Offspring is currently, as in right this second, making something with a push pin, baking soda, water, an empty water bottle, vinegar, toilet paper and coins…. hmmmmm.  This cannot be good!


And now he just said "And now we have to fill up the tub".....  


Oh dear.  Wish me luck. 

Seceding from the family

Offspring announced tonight that he was seceding from the family.  I burst into a huge fit of laughter because, well, it was funny.  I asked him why and he said "I don't know, it just seems like a good idea".  I proceeded to tell him that meant he couldn't stay in the house, he'd have to live outside, after which he took a lawn chair, his coat, flashlight and his pack (see previous post) full of gadgets and sat outside in the dark. I came into the bedroom to tell Wheeler about this development and Wheeler promptly said "Well, he can't be on our family property if he secedes from the family" so I went outside and kicked him off our property.  And then I told him there was no trespassing in our neighborhood, so the park just behind us was out too. It was at that point, plus the enticement of dinner, that he came back in and decided not to secede after all.  Turns out they are studying when North Carolina seceded from the Union during the Civil War and he thought freedom sounded pretty darn fun.  Until he realized the full ramifications - like dinner and a bed to sleep in!

This is what three 11 year old boys at an overnight birthday party sound like.  There's no video, its just sound.  Listen and enjoy..... I triple dog dare you not to smile while listening.

Fantastic apple pie

I brought a ton of apples back from Alabama and made a pie this weekend.  It was pretty darn good, but I made another one tonight and although I haven't yet cut into it .... you be the judge:

Here is the recipe:

CRUST: 2 cups of Pamela's gluten free flour + 1/2 cup sugar + 1 tsp salt + 1 tsp cinnamon + 2/3 cup vegetable oil + 1/4 cup half & half (or milk).  Stir together with a fork until well mixed and crumbly.  Press 2/3 of the mixture into a pie pan and reserve the rest out to crumble on the top.  [note: It's sort of an art to press the crust into the pan, you have to make sure its even and consistent across the bottom of the pan and up the sides.  My first effort kinda sucked, but my second I was able to get it right]


FILLING: Peel, core and thinly slice about 14 small apples (e.g. baseball sized), maybe about 6 cups?   I didn't measure, I just cut up enough till it looked like the right amount to generously (heaping) fill up the pie pan.  You can always just eat the extra filling alone if you make too much, so err on making too much rather than not enough. Melt on low one full stick of butter in a large sauté pan, add the apples and 1 cup of sugar. Cook on medium for 10-15 mins, until the apples start to soften and the mixture starts to turn caramel-ish.  Add lots of cinnamon (to taste) and at the very end, stir in about 1/4 to 1/2 cup of Pamela's GF flour to thicken up the filling.

Pour entire filling into the pie crust, cover lightly with foil.  Bake at 400 degrees for 45 minutes.  Remove foil for last 3-5 mins to brown top crust, but watch carefully as the topping burns easily at that temperature.

EAT!

What are the odds of THAT?

I went to the first home preseason Canes game last Friday, and I went alone because we only had one ticket, and even though I could have gotten ahold of more than one ticket, Wheeler wasn't feeling well from another UTI.  The ticket was on the upper deck and the place was deserted.  It was excruciatingly dull to watch the game alone from that high up, and so I considered leaving after the 1st period.  Instead I decided to upgrade my situation - since it is just preseason, and the place was really empty, the ushers didn't care about people moving down after the 1st.  So I moved down to about 8 rows up off the ice and enjoyed the 2nd period much more. 

Between the 2nd and the 3rd, the little boy seated in front of me turns around and says "Ma'am? Does your son go to (insert my kid's elementary school name here)".  I looked stunned and said "Yes?" and he said "Are you Offspring's mom?", to which I said with surprise "Yes...", to which he replied "I'm Matthew and I'm in his class".

[insert feather]  Me  [insert fallen over]

This arena has almost 18,000 seats people - what are the odds of that?  A kid in my kid's class - and that he recognized me, and that I picked that seat out of all the seats on the lower level to sit in.  And that he was brave enough to speak up and say hello (my kid would have sat in silence and said nothing).  Bizarre.  Life is stranger than fiction sometimes.

The longest mile

On the walk to school today:

Mom, what would you do if Dog pooped on the sidewalk right in front of you?


Mom, what would you do if Deuce pooped so much that the bag wouldn't hold it all? 


Mom, what would you do if Dog had massive diarrhea all over your shoes? 


Mom, what would you do if Dogley barfed up his breakfast right here on the sidewalk? 


Mom, what would you do if ...

Sigh.

It was a very long mile.

I have to fill out this form again WHY?

I took Offspring to the asthma doctor this morning, and the receptionist handed me a form to fill out that was exactly the same as the form at the top of his chart that she was holding.  The form has on it his name, date of birth, address, phone number, insurance, parent's names, etc.  Nothing on the form is about medications or things that or symptoms, just demographics and insurance (which could change, but in our case, hadn't). 

She: please update this form.

Me: <glancing> oh, it's all the same, nothing has changed.</glancing>

She: <snippy> well, you still have to fill it out again.</snippy>

Me: (I take it and look at it more carefully)

Me: <politely> Ma'am, every single thing on this form is exactly the same, not one thing has changed, so there's really no point in me filling it out again.</politely>

She: <not politely=""> You still have to fill it out.  </not>

Me: <annoyed> Well can't I just cross out the date on that one and call it good enough?</annoyed>

She:  <loudly> NO. </loudly>

Me:  <crossly> FINE. </crossly>

Hrumph! How stupid it that?????  It was literally word for word 100% the same.  

And while I'm on the subject, why the hell do I have to HAND COPY down our insurance policy number, group number, address for claims, employer, blahdee blahdee, when they photocopy the damn PRINTED CARD (that you can, say, actually read versus my shitty handwriting) when you walk in?  And they take your photo ID and copy that too (just in case they need someone's ID for the Friday beer run??). 

Hrumph!!!

Me versus the self checkout machine

I hate the self checkout at the grocery store, I really do.  I never, ever use it if I can avoid it.  Even if I have only a few things, I will gladly stand in a long line behind people with a giant cartload of things because I hate self checkouts, and more saliently, they hate me.  They really do, I'm not making that up.  Today I had no choice though; I went to the store and there were no checkers available; I was forced to use the self checkouts with my 12 items.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me: stare at it with trepidation

Me: take deep breath

It: stares back at me menacingly, taunting me

Me: key in my phone number

It: doesn't recognize it, arches its eyebrows at me

SCORE 0-1, me-it

Me: type in another phone number

It: beeps

SCORE 1-1, me-it

Me: swipe my first item

It: silence

SCORE 1-2, me-it

Me: swipe it again

It: silence

SCORE 1-3, me-it

Me: try again

It: beep

Me: AH-HA!!

SCORE 2-3, me-it

Me: place thingy in bag

It: objects furiously telling me to take item off weigher area and to wait for assistance

Me: I remove it and wait

Me: I wait

Me: I wait suh mo

Me: No one comes

SCORE 2-4, me-it

Me: Still no one comes

Me: I swipe it again.

It: beep

Me: I put it in the bag

It:  objects furiously telling me to take item off weigher area and to wait for assistance

Me: I remove it and wait

Me: I wait

Me: I wait suh mo

Me: No one comes

SCORE 2-5, me-it

Me: I let out primal ARGHHHHHHH that I'm pretty sure was heard in the meat section in the back.

Me: Swipe item again.

It: beep (apparently scared by my yell)

Me: I place item in bag

It: silence (ahhhh)

SCORE 3-5, me-it

Me: Swipe next item

It: beep

Me: Swipe next item

It: Please place previous item on the weigher

Me: I ALREADY DID YOU PIECE OF SHHHH....

REVISED SCORE: 2-6, me-it


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end score ended up something around 12-738.

Have I mentioned how much I hate self check out lines?  It took me, no kidding, about 10 minutes to purchase my 12 items.  I'm still not sure that I actually either paid for everything or didn't pay for something twice.  I didn't look at my receipt because I didn't really want to know; perhaps the score was 11-739, or 13 to 737.  Grocery store checker-outer is clearly not in my career future.