The other day, Offspring had a back baby tooth crack and crumble at the top, so the dentist had to positively YANK it out (it was not ready to come out at all so it was really stuck in his gum hard). But that brave boy sat there and just took it like a total man. I was so impressed!! I would have been demanding drugs and sobbing. He even staunchly refused ibuprofen afterwards.
Not a wimp, that one!
Friday, March 29, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
His WHO?
Wheeler had cataract surgery last week. At the registration, we both sat there as the admissions clerk (an older lady) ran through all the questions, which Wheeler duly answered. I got out his insurance cards of course, since he is paralyzed from the neck down (this factors in again in a moment, so don't forget this part). After all the questions were done, she printed the arm band, walked around her desk to us and said to Wheeler
"Which arm do you want it on?"
To which he politely, not flippantly, replied, something along the lines of
"It doesn't really matter".
Then, she looks STRAIGHT AT ME, full in the face, and says this. Brace yourself.
"Mom? Which arm?"
I totally frickin' shit you not.
Wheeler then indignantly and rather forcefully corrected her:
"That's my WIFE"
To which she replied:
"She's your wife??" in a very shocked tone.
Lots of layers to unpack here, am I right? Let's start with the obvious. Even if I had a child at a young age, that would make me at least in my mid 60s. Even on my worst day of my life, there is no possible way that ANYONE ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET would think I am in my 60s. Oh wait, except her.
Actually, though I don't even think she thought I was in my 60s. I don't think she even saw me as a person. She saw me in my "role" - my caregiver role. Who would be with a man totally paralyzed from the neck down? Well, only his mother of course, because of course people like that would never have a normal life and anyone other than his mother come to the hospital with him. Or oh my god, get (gasp!) married!! I mean, what would be the point of that for the girl eh?
I am just so angry about this that I could spit nails.
"Which arm do you want it on?"
To which he politely, not flippantly, replied, something along the lines of
"It doesn't really matter".
Then, she looks STRAIGHT AT ME, full in the face, and says this. Brace yourself.
"Mom? Which arm?"
I totally frickin' shit you not.
Wheeler then indignantly and rather forcefully corrected her:
"That's my WIFE"
To which she replied:
"She's your wife??" in a very shocked tone.
Lots of layers to unpack here, am I right? Let's start with the obvious. Even if I had a child at a young age, that would make me at least in my mid 60s. Even on my worst day of my life, there is no possible way that ANYONE ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET would think I am in my 60s. Oh wait, except her.
Actually, though I don't even think she thought I was in my 60s. I don't think she even saw me as a person. She saw me in my "role" - my caregiver role. Who would be with a man totally paralyzed from the neck down? Well, only his mother of course, because of course people like that would never have a normal life and anyone other than his mother come to the hospital with him. Or oh my god, get (gasp!) married!! I mean, what would be the point of that for the girl eh?
I am just so angry about this that I could spit nails.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Break a leg
It's been a long time since I auditioned for anything. Since high school in fact. Which I won't put how many years ago that was to protect the innocent. But last night I auditioned to be in this interesting show called Listen To Your Mother Show. From their website:
A national series of live readings by local writers in celebration of Mothers Day. Born of the creative work of mothers who publish online, each production is directed, produced and performed by local communities, for local communities.
We’re casting a show of about twelve readers whose pieces will fit together in some kind of flow. Some will be funny, some sad, some both. But we have no preconceived notions going into auditions, no slots to fill or boxes we’re looking to check. The best thing you can do is show us what Deb Rox calls “the incredible youness of you.”
Bring in something that you love, something that you feel strongly about, something that you want people to hear said. Bring in the story that only you can tell. Even if you’re talking about something about motherhood that’s totally universal (like sleep deprivation?), find a way to make it uniquely yours.
My piece was Rabbit Autopsy, written when Offspring was 6 years old*. It is certainly only a story I can tell, and indeed shows the incredible (me-ness) of (me). I have a free styling, non traditional form of parenting and this story is emblematic of that approach.
To get into the show, I first had to submit my piece in writing for selection to audition verbally. I made it past the first hurdle and was asked to audition verbally. The audition was last night. It was held in the home of one of the organizers, and I made sure that I got there very early - I was 45 minutes early because I was afraid I'd get lost on the way there and I certainly didn't want to miss my big chance to be the next Garrison Keiller.
I sat in the car, watching other auditioning women stream in and out of the house. I read my piece out loud about 4 times, after which I got rather sick of hearing myself talk. I had brought my Kindle, so I sat and read my Kindle, trying not to get nervous. At the appointed hour, I went into the house and awaited my turn in the laundry room turned green room. And let me tell you, this was the greatest laundry room in the history of laundry rooms. It was HUGE and doubled as a sewing room. I was green (in the green room, ha) with envy.
One of the woman came down to get me at exactly 8 pm, my audition time. We made a little small talk and then I read my piece. It was over before I knew it and then I left. I honestly don't think that I did very well - I think that I was nervous and that it showed. But I did my best and that's all I can do. So we'll see if I make it into the show. That would be uber cool but I'm not pinning my hopes on it. They said that at this point they are trying to make a show that flows together well, less judging what is good, so who knows if I'll make it in.
But I can bet you any amount of money that I'm the only mom that talked about an animal autopsy!
*he is now 12, I don't really know how that happened.
A national series of live readings by local writers in celebration of Mothers Day. Born of the creative work of mothers who publish online, each production is directed, produced and performed by local communities, for local communities.
We’re casting a show of about twelve readers whose pieces will fit together in some kind of flow. Some will be funny, some sad, some both. But we have no preconceived notions going into auditions, no slots to fill or boxes we’re looking to check. The best thing you can do is show us what Deb Rox calls “the incredible youness of you.”
Bring in something that you love, something that you feel strongly about, something that you want people to hear said. Bring in the story that only you can tell. Even if you’re talking about something about motherhood that’s totally universal (like sleep deprivation?), find a way to make it uniquely yours.
My piece was Rabbit Autopsy, written when Offspring was 6 years old*. It is certainly only a story I can tell, and indeed shows the incredible (me-ness) of (me). I have a free styling, non traditional form of parenting and this story is emblematic of that approach.
To get into the show, I first had to submit my piece in writing for selection to audition verbally. I made it past the first hurdle and was asked to audition verbally. The audition was last night. It was held in the home of one of the organizers, and I made sure that I got there very early - I was 45 minutes early because I was afraid I'd get lost on the way there and I certainly didn't want to miss my big chance to be the next Garrison Keiller.
I sat in the car, watching other auditioning women stream in and out of the house. I read my piece out loud about 4 times, after which I got rather sick of hearing myself talk. I had brought my Kindle, so I sat and read my Kindle, trying not to get nervous. At the appointed hour, I went into the house and awaited my turn in the laundry room turned green room. And let me tell you, this was the greatest laundry room in the history of laundry rooms. It was HUGE and doubled as a sewing room. I was green (in the green room, ha) with envy.
One of the woman came down to get me at exactly 8 pm, my audition time. We made a little small talk and then I read my piece. It was over before I knew it and then I left. I honestly don't think that I did very well - I think that I was nervous and that it showed. But I did my best and that's all I can do. So we'll see if I make it into the show. That would be uber cool but I'm not pinning my hopes on it. They said that at this point they are trying to make a show that flows together well, less judging what is good, so who knows if I'll make it in.
But I can bet you any amount of money that I'm the only mom that talked about an animal autopsy!
*he is now 12, I don't really know how that happened.
Monday, February 25, 2013
2:41 pm
Every weekday, Dogley goes to the front door at exactly 2:41. At exactly 2:43, Offspring appears and comes through the door.
Every.
Day.
Dogley has supersonic hearing and hears the bus 2 blocks away.
Every.
Day.
Dogley has supersonic hearing and hears the bus 2 blocks away.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
$120 toilet paper
That's how much toilet paper costs at Sam's.
Well, that and all the stuff I bought along with the toilet paper I went to buy. Which was the only reason I went.
Well, that and all the stuff I bought along with the toilet paper I went to buy. Which was the only reason I went.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Strange bedfellows
Aside from being a serious ethical breach, I went to WalMart today. The guy behind us in line had two items in his cart: prune juice and ammo. Can you imagine the list hanging on the refrigerator at his house?
- Prune juice
- Ammunition
I have been one upped in the funny department.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
How can he eat this much?
Every day, he comes home from school and announces that he is hungry. He eats. Then he commences eating continuously from then until dinner. I'm not kidding. I'll make him spaghetti with red sauce after school most days. Then he'll have goldfish. Then ice cream. Then some almonds. Then it's dinner time.
How can he eat this much and not have a hole in the bottom of his leg? Or be 300 pounds??????? Instead he's this tiny thing. I sure wish I had that metabolism. Sigh.
How can he eat this much and not have a hole in the bottom of his leg? Or be 300 pounds??????? Instead he's this tiny thing. I sure wish I had that metabolism. Sigh.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Best boy in the world
I'm not sure how it happened, but I have the best kid in the world. He does whatever I tell him to do without EVER having to ask him twice, and he doesn't ever complain. The other day I had ten tons of crap piled up on the stairs that needed to be taken upstairs, and so I asked him to do it. He came downstairs and did it. No "MOMMMMMM, do I HAVE to?". He just came down and did it. If I ask him to unload the dishwasher, he just does it. If I ask him to fold up a load of laundry, he does it. (mind you, not very well but hey, beggars can't be choosers).
How did I get this lucky?
How did I get this lucky?
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Eulogy for my grandma
RIP Grandma, 2/11/1927-2/5/2012
My grandma could yodel, play the spoons and even after living “up north” for 30 years, still had a delicious residual southern accent. The highlight of our summers as children was when my brother and I would spend a week at her house. Our three cousins lived in the same town, and the 5 of us got up to much mischief together – albeit under Grandma’s watchful eye.
One summer, we five cousins were out playing in the woods behind her house, when we saw her put two piping hot, delicious pies in the kitchen window to cool. Stomachs growling, we circled outside like jackals, around and around, knowing that we would not be allowed to have pie until dessert at dinner later on. Poor impulse control coupled with even poorer judgment caused us to decide that Grandma probably wouldn’t notice if one pie just happened to go missing. Quickly, before we lost our nerve, my brother hoisted me up on my cousin’s shoulders, and I stole one pie right out off the windowsill. Running pell mell into the woods, we proceeded to eat the pie like wild animals, afterwards washing off our hands in the creek (pronounced “crick” in her accent). Later when we were called in to supper, we sat anxiously waiting for Grandma to say something about the missing pie. Much to our relief, not one word was spoken about the pie. We’d fooled her!
Grandma sewed lovely outfits for me – one year she made me a Sesame Street Cookie Monster long dress. She crocheted amazing blankets and stitched beautiful quilts. She never went anywhere without “her face on” – she took pride in looking her best no matter if we were just running to the post office or to the “dime store”. As the only girl grandchild, I got to play with her makeup, lotions, perfumes and substantial costume jewelry collection. I would put on her jewelry, wear her makeup, clomp around in her heels and pretend to be grown up while I eagerly listened to her life stories.
When I was in college, she and I took a long road trip down through southern Illinois and Kentucky were her kin folk were from, and where she was born and raised – Fredonia, Kentucky. We deeply bonded on that trip and it remains one of the highlights of my life. But it was also when the first whispers of Alzheimer’s came calling – only no one recognized them at that time. She would constantly check if the doors on the car were locked. She would constantly lose her purse. She would repeat stories and sentences verbatim to me over and over again. We all chalked it up to being quirky and normal aging at the time. But we were wrong.
Over the years, Alzheimer’s became more obvious: paranoia, anger, forgetfulness, and ultimately the inability to function independently. A move to live with my mom came first, then to an assisted living, then finally to a nursing home. Alzheimer’s slowly slithered in and stole away my Grandma. The disease took her personality, her intellect, and then finally her very essence, leaving her body bare of its soul. My mom, my aunt and Grandma’s sister have lovingly tended to her over the years, enduring the heartbreak of seeing their mother and sister slowly vanish. She has been gone in reality for a long, long time, but now her body is finally gone too. Farewell Grandma. I love you, and I know that you are finally whole again.
My grandma could yodel, play the spoons and even after living “up north” for 30 years, still had a delicious residual southern accent. The highlight of our summers as children was when my brother and I would spend a week at her house. Our three cousins lived in the same town, and the 5 of us got up to much mischief together – albeit under Grandma’s watchful eye.
One summer, we five cousins were out playing in the woods behind her house, when we saw her put two piping hot, delicious pies in the kitchen window to cool. Stomachs growling, we circled outside like jackals, around and around, knowing that we would not be allowed to have pie until dessert at dinner later on. Poor impulse control coupled with even poorer judgment caused us to decide that Grandma probably wouldn’t notice if one pie just happened to go missing. Quickly, before we lost our nerve, my brother hoisted me up on my cousin’s shoulders, and I stole one pie right out off the windowsill. Running pell mell into the woods, we proceeded to eat the pie like wild animals, afterwards washing off our hands in the creek (pronounced “crick” in her accent). Later when we were called in to supper, we sat anxiously waiting for Grandma to say something about the missing pie. Much to our relief, not one word was spoken about the pie. We’d fooled her!
Grandma sewed lovely outfits for me – one year she made me a Sesame Street Cookie Monster long dress. She crocheted amazing blankets and stitched beautiful quilts. She never went anywhere without “her face on” – she took pride in looking her best no matter if we were just running to the post office or to the “dime store”. As the only girl grandchild, I got to play with her makeup, lotions, perfumes and substantial costume jewelry collection. I would put on her jewelry, wear her makeup, clomp around in her heels and pretend to be grown up while I eagerly listened to her life stories.
When I was in college, she and I took a long road trip down through southern Illinois and Kentucky were her kin folk were from, and where she was born and raised – Fredonia, Kentucky. We deeply bonded on that trip and it remains one of the highlights of my life. But it was also when the first whispers of Alzheimer’s came calling – only no one recognized them at that time. She would constantly check if the doors on the car were locked. She would constantly lose her purse. She would repeat stories and sentences verbatim to me over and over again. We all chalked it up to being quirky and normal aging at the time. But we were wrong.
Over the years, Alzheimer’s became more obvious: paranoia, anger, forgetfulness, and ultimately the inability to function independently. A move to live with my mom came first, then to an assisted living, then finally to a nursing home. Alzheimer’s slowly slithered in and stole away my Grandma. The disease took her personality, her intellect, and then finally her very essence, leaving her body bare of its soul. My mom, my aunt and Grandma’s sister have lovingly tended to her over the years, enduring the heartbreak of seeing their mother and sister slowly vanish. She has been gone in reality for a long, long time, but now her body is finally gone too. Farewell Grandma. I love you, and I know that you are finally whole again.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Dog farts
Dogley is a flatulent dog. Always has been, we just accept it as part of nature. Unfortunately for us. But sometimes, he rips one out so bad that he clears the room. And just now, he ripped one out so bad that he offended himself. He got up and walked away, staring backwards at the stench, with a look of confusion ...... like, who did THAT?
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Sleeping in pee.... Just part life around here
Normally Wheeler has insomnia and I sleep like a baby but the last weeks its been reversed. So as I sat here tonight reading through a stack of magazines I've brought so as to distract my head from yelling internal at me WHY AREN'T YOU ASLEEP, I reached over for the next magazine as I'd left them in a stack on Wheeler's legs (yes, I treat him as my table, he's astonishingly useful in that regard and doesn't mind a bit. win-win!) I digress. Which I'm prone to do at 2 am.
But the magazine I pick up is sopping wet. I suddenly realize that the off odor that I'd been smelling for the past however so long was (insert DUN DUN DUN.....) PEE! Not just any pee though, stenchy odiferous wild untreated UTI pee. His bag earlier the day had stunk so badly that I actually changed the bag out, something I have never had to do before. I only change them when I change the catheter once monthly. But this was full on peel the paint off the walls STANK (as we say in the south).
So I took all three corners of sheets and blankets and pillows off that I could do without disturbing him, took away the pillows we use to stack him in the positioning all night (good bye to those, I don't think they are salvageable but I could be wrong) gathered a fresh supply of: waterproof mattress pad, fitted sheet, flat sheet, blanket, bed pad, sheepskin, pillow and pillowcase for him. You see, the way it leaked was such that it formed a blossoming oval around him from his knees to his neck and it didn't touch my side much. I think the sheepskin wicked it up and around him.
At that point, I finally had to wake him, for which I felt horribly guilty (waking a man with sleeping difficulties.....) and explained. He said "Whatever", I put him in the sling, I redressed the bed in such good time that I'm prepared to lobby the Olympics to make it a sport. Then I hoisted him back down, where he .... promptly fell back to sleep!! SUCCESS! I took the sheets and blankets straightaway to the washer, put the whole rest of the mess outside on the back porch so that smell won't be in my house, or worse, soaking into my hardwood floors. I'll do those tomorrow.
Now only magazine is unusable (and possibly the body pillows, but I'll make a final judgement on that in the AM).
All I can say is that I am quite HAPPY to have had insomnia tonight. Otherwise it would have been much, much, MUCH worse if it had leaked all night versus finding it early on in the leaking process tonight at 2 am.
Cheers to insomnia
But the magazine I pick up is sopping wet. I suddenly realize that the off odor that I'd been smelling for the past however so long was (insert DUN DUN DUN.....) PEE! Not just any pee though, stenchy odiferous wild untreated UTI pee. His bag earlier the day had stunk so badly that I actually changed the bag out, something I have never had to do before. I only change them when I change the catheter once monthly. But this was full on peel the paint off the walls STANK (as we say in the south).
So I took all three corners of sheets and blankets and pillows off that I could do without disturbing him, took away the pillows we use to stack him in the positioning all night (good bye to those, I don't think they are salvageable but I could be wrong) gathered a fresh supply of: waterproof mattress pad, fitted sheet, flat sheet, blanket, bed pad, sheepskin, pillow and pillowcase for him. You see, the way it leaked was such that it formed a blossoming oval around him from his knees to his neck and it didn't touch my side much. I think the sheepskin wicked it up and around him.
At that point, I finally had to wake him, for which I felt horribly guilty (waking a man with sleeping difficulties.....) and explained. He said "Whatever", I put him in the sling, I redressed the bed in such good time that I'm prepared to lobby the Olympics to make it a sport. Then I hoisted him back down, where he .... promptly fell back to sleep!! SUCCESS! I took the sheets and blankets straightaway to the washer, put the whole rest of the mess outside on the back porch so that smell won't be in my house, or worse, soaking into my hardwood floors. I'll do those tomorrow.
Now only magazine is unusable (and possibly the body pillows, but I'll make a final judgement on that in the AM).
All I can say is that I am quite HAPPY to have had insomnia tonight. Otherwise it would have been much, much, MUCH worse if it had leaked all night versus finding it early on in the leaking process tonight at 2 am.
Cheers to insomnia
Fines at our house
You are fined 25 cents* in this house for:
1. Failing to put Wheeler's mouthstick back if you move it away
2. Failing to push the piano bench in (it traps/blocks Wheeler)
3. Swearing (a quarter per offense)
4. Saying fart (Offspring only, adults allowed)
5. FartING (Offspring only, quads allowed, mothers simply don't fart)
6. Leaving anything on the ramp (blocks/traps Wheeler)
7. Failing to obey a direct order (Offspring and quad only, mothers rule supreme)
1. Failing to put Wheeler's mouthstick back if you move it away
2. Failing to push the piano bench in (it traps/blocks Wheeler)
3. Swearing (a quarter per offense)
4. Saying fart (Offspring only, adults allowed)
5. FartING (Offspring only, quads allowed, mothers simply don't fart)
6. Leaving anything on the ramp (blocks/traps Wheeler)
7. Failing to obey a direct order (Offspring and quad only, mothers rule supreme)
8. Leaving shoes anywhere but on feet or on stairs
9. Failure to maintain a 5 minute warning buffer prior to trumpet practice
10. Turning Wheeler's chair off on purpose!
* all fines go to Villalobos Rescue Center which gets rich from us. Once a month I send in a SUBSTANTIAL donation.
postscript: the most revenue is generated by breaking rule #3 by the author of this blog, who shall remain thankfully anonymous....
9. Failure to maintain a 5 minute warning buffer prior to trumpet practice
10. Turning Wheeler's chair off on purpose!
* all fines go to Villalobos Rescue Center which gets rich from us. Once a month I send in a SUBSTANTIAL donation.
postscript: the most revenue is generated by breaking rule #3 by the author of this blog, who shall remain thankfully anonymous....
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
But I don't use a landline.....
I just signed Offspring up for Delta's frequent flyer program and it asked for a mobile phone number, and then for a home phone number. My mobile number is our home number, so I left it blank. *error* It required me to fill in a home number. So I filled in my mobile number in that field too. *error*. WTF? Now what am I gonna put in? I don't use a landline. Ultimately, I put his dad's number in there, but if I need to sign up for Delta's miles myself (which I should do, I travel for business alot lately), I'm not quite sure what to put there. I guess I'll put Wheeler's cell number there. But it's just annoying that they are so behind the times that they don't account for people who only use a mobile for everything. I've used a mobile for everything for 5+ years. Get with the program people!
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Really tall
We have been fiddling with using different cushions to combat a pressure sore that keeps developing on a certain spot on Wheeler's rump area. Bascially, we rotate between a Supracor Stimulite
and a Roho
I got him dressed in bed, got him in the sling, put the Roho cushion down on the seat of the chair and put him in the chair. Immediately, we knew something was off because he was sitting really high up - so far up that we couldn't even swing the chin control around past his shoulder. I leaned him back using the attendant controls on the back, and we managed to get him leaned back to I could try to arrange him to get the height issue resolved.
But every time I sat him up, he was still really tall sitting up. His feet literally dangled above the foot plate, he was that high up. The only thing we could figure out is that Uncle Air Force must have pumped up the Roho (we had discussed pumping it up) and he must have seriously overinflated it.
Then I suddenly realized.
I neglected to take the Stimulite cushion off BEFORE I put the Roho on. He was sitting on TWO cushions. (insert drum ba bump bump here). I am an idiot.
But every time I sat him up, he was still really tall sitting up. His feet literally dangled above the foot plate, he was that high up. The only thing we could figure out is that Uncle Air Force must have pumped up the Roho (we had discussed pumping it up) and he must have seriously overinflated it.
Then I suddenly realized.
I neglected to take the Stimulite cushion off BEFORE I put the Roho on. He was sitting on TWO cushions. (insert drum ba bump bump here). I am an idiot.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Really good ideas
I cannot tell from year to year how old Offspring is in his school pictures. He has been basically the same size, or very close in size, for 5+ years, so its really difficult to pin down what school year his photos come from. As a result, I have a drawer full of photos that I can't date. Today is picture date. I devised a scheme that would be very handy: write on his shirt "I am 11 years old and in 6th grade". Brilliant, doncha think?
One of the worst feelings is when you go to put wet clothes in the dryer, only to find a full load of dry clothes that you neglected to take out and fold when they were done. Hate that! Happened to me last night. Bah humbug. Meant I had to fold up 4 loads of laundry instead of 3.
Yesterday Offspring got a big glass out of the cupboard and filled it to the tippy top with milk. I noted to him, belatedly, that just because a glass is a certain size does not compel him to fill it to the top of the glass. He turned and said "But mom, I'm a thirsty guy!". Who can argue with that eh? And damned if he didn't drink it all. But probably only because I told him he better and I gave him the mommy death stare. Otherwise I know half or more of it would have been leftover and I would have had to find a place for it in our overstuffed fridge.
Wheeler got me these, aren't they FAB?????
They were extremely expensive, but he says I deserve them. Hell, why not - have to splurge now and then,
Two adorable young college fraternity guys came to our place Saturday to take an extra TV we had back to the fraternity house where Wheeler was a member during college. Today they messaged Wheeler and said that as part of pledging, the youngest guys needed to meet alumni and do work, and so did we need anything done, like cleaning out an attic or a garage? YES!!!!! and YES!!!!!!! How awesome is this? I really super need strapping young lads to carry crap down from the attic and four of them could make very short work of it. Ditto the garage. Combine that with a few loads to the city dump and I will have a clean attic and garage in a few weeks. Hooray! I may have to change my tune about fraternities.
One of the worst feelings is when you go to put wet clothes in the dryer, only to find a full load of dry clothes that you neglected to take out and fold when they were done. Hate that! Happened to me last night. Bah humbug. Meant I had to fold up 4 loads of laundry instead of 3.
Yesterday Offspring got a big glass out of the cupboard and filled it to the tippy top with milk. I noted to him, belatedly, that just because a glass is a certain size does not compel him to fill it to the top of the glass. He turned and said "But mom, I'm a thirsty guy!". Who can argue with that eh? And damned if he didn't drink it all. But probably only because I told him he better and I gave him the mommy death stare. Otherwise I know half or more of it would have been leftover and I would have had to find a place for it in our overstuffed fridge.
Wheeler got me these, aren't they FAB?????
Two adorable young college fraternity guys came to our place Saturday to take an extra TV we had back to the fraternity house where Wheeler was a member during college. Today they messaged Wheeler and said that as part of pledging, the youngest guys needed to meet alumni and do work, and so did we need anything done, like cleaning out an attic or a garage? YES!!!!! and YES!!!!!!! How awesome is this? I really super need strapping young lads to carry crap down from the attic and four of them could make very short work of it. Ditto the garage. Combine that with a few loads to the city dump and I will have a clean attic and garage in a few weeks. Hooray! I may have to change my tune about fraternities.
Parallel processing
I don't parallel process well. But last night, I was parallel processing like a fiend between about 10 and 11. I was doing all of the following ....
- Getting Wheelers out of his wheels and into bed
- Programming the DVR to record all the new fall shows
- Q-tipping Wheeler's ears
- Plucking his nose hairs
- Rubbing his eyes
- Being his hands in playing Words with Friends on the iPad
- Shopping and building a computer to possibly buy at apple.com
- Chatting with a friend on Facebook
- Chatting with my niece on Facebook about the above mentioned computer on apple.com
- Texting with a friend on my phone
- Moving laundry from basket to washer, washer to dryer, then folding (x 3)
- Giving Wheeler his medications
- Taking my medications
- Feeding the dogs
- Letting the dogs out
- Putting dishes in dishwasher
- Enjoy a big glass of root beer
I was impressed that I didn't implode. Normally I just CANNOT do all that, but somehow I was able to juggle most all of it... for the most part. I had to check very carefully that we each swallowed the right set of medications though... a mix up there would be very very bad!
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Mommy fail
Offspring was 20 minutes late from school... I went to the bus stop and he wasn't there. Where could he be?!?!?! Mind you, I had JUST watched a show about a kid who was literally snatched off the street and kidnapped, so with that fresh on my mind I started to worry a little..... then a little more ... heart starting to pound, I suddenly remember ... OOPS!! He attended photography club after school and I WAS SUPPOSED TO PICK HIM UP! 2 minutes later he called me, peeved, saying "MOM, you FORGOT me didn't you?!" to which I had to sheepishly admit ummmm, yeah... so poor kid had to sit in the heat for 45 minutes waiting for me. Doink!!!
Earlier in the day, I ground up some coffee beans ... or rather, TRIED to because as soon as I started to grind them, the lid flew off and spewed half ground, half not coffee beans all over me, the counter, the sink and the floor. What the hell?! Some kind of plastic lining inside the grinder had broken, became ensnared in the blades and caused the whole thing to seize up.
Mommy fail day.
Earlier in the day, I ground up some coffee beans ... or rather, TRIED to because as soon as I started to grind them, the lid flew off and spewed half ground, half not coffee beans all over me, the counter, the sink and the floor. What the hell?! Some kind of plastic lining inside the grinder had broken, became ensnared in the blades and caused the whole thing to seize up.
Mommy fail day.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
School expenses
School supplies: $80. Graphing calculator: $99. Gym clothes: $50. Dad bought wrong size of clothes, so buy another set: $50. Trumpet: $230. Trumpet second mouthpiece and cleaning kit: $60. Subscription to music website for assessments and lessons: $30. PTA fees: $30. Yearbook: $30. New tennis shoes: $50. School t-shirt: $15. First month lunch money: $45.
Damn, it's expensive to be in middle school!
Damn, it's expensive to be in middle school!
Friday, August 17, 2012
You know you've lost it....
...When you drive to the pet store to get the dog's nail trimmed, only upon arrival you discover that you have failed to bring the dogs. Whoops.
Today I more successfully accomplished this task. Whew.
Today I more successfully accomplished this task. Whew.
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