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Tuesday, August 31, 2010

PINT: I'm officially GREAT!

That One Mom

Thursday, August 26, 2010

I win.

Well, we survived the first day of school yesterday and my boys rode the bus home for the very first time.  I was walking around here like a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs waiting on that bus to get here. 

I just knew Dev was going to absolutely hate riding the bus but guess what?  He loved it.  And that boy doesn't love much, let me tell you.  The Dracenator had apparently been under the impression that there would be assigned seating and was elated to discover that was not the case when he was allowed to freely choose his choice of seat. 

As soon as they walked through the door I started blasting them with my long list of  first day of school questions.  "How was your teacher?  Did you get to talk to your friends much?  Where did you sit on the bus?  Who did you sit with?  Did you sit near each other? What time is lunch?  Did you have p.e., drama, art or music today? What did you eat for lunch? " 

The Dracenator's response to that last question was "umm...cantaloupe and....barf." 
 Excuse me?  Did you just say "barf"? What the heck are you talking about?
"Well, it was something nasty that looked kinda like barf."

Alrighty, then.

I looked at Dev with a puzzled look on my face and he just shrugged and gave me the that I don't have a stinkin' clue what he's talking about look and said he had popcorn chicken that was pretty good but that they also had pizza and some other things.  I guess those things were what Dray was referring to. 

On the outside of Dray's blue folder, the teacher had written his name, "homework folder" and "read 15 minutes every night".  When I told him to read, he was already back to his old try to fool mom game by responding that he didn't really think his teacher meant for him to actually start that today.  "Nice try buddy but ole mom is way too experienced to fall for that one again. Now go get a book."  He came back with a flap book, Richards Scarry's Best Flap Book Ever, Sneef Saves The Day! 

Alrighty, then

I am not sure whether he was just that excited about going back to school today, snuck in the consumption of too much caffeine at some point in the afternoon or it was just the phase of the moon but that boy woke us from a dead sleep around 3 am to inform us that he had woken up starving to death and could not go back to sleep. 

He was told to go back to bed but of course, that wasn't gonna fly so I had to get up, fix him a bowl of goldfish and inform him that the bedside lamp, closet light and light from the muted t.v. were probably affecting his ability to go back to sleep to which he let me know real quick, he absolutely cannot sleep without them on.

Alrighty, then.

It was not a restful night but believe it or not, both boys got right out of bed when I woke them up this morning. I picked the Dracenator out some clothes but he flung back the covers to show me he was already dressed.  At least he made good use of his insomnia though his outfit of some old hand-me-down shorts of his brother's and a Smurf t- shirt did not pass the mama inspection.  He said he was sweaty anyway so did not put up a fuss when I instructed him to change. 

Tonight we have football and soccer practices which will succeed at tying up our evening from 5:30 to 8:00pm but the time between now and the arrival of the school bus around 3:30 this afternoon is mine.  Well, mine and the dirty laundry's, dirty dishes', dirty floor's, and dirty dog's who went outside this morning and came back in smelling like he just rolled around on a dead rodent, which he probably did. 

Never met a dog who could resist getting all stinked up when given the opportunity.  This is most likely my payback for taking him to the groomer's last week. He came bounding back through the door, tongue hanging out and all proud-like and jumped up beside me as if to say, "Ha! get a whiff of me!  this is what a dog is supposed to smell like!"

Once he's in the tub covered in suds though, he'll be looking up at me with those I surrender puppy dog eyes that are saying,

Alrighty, then. 

You win.

I win.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Last day of summer...

Well, this is it.  Our last day of summer. 

The boys aren't even up yet but I'm thinking if I don't wake them within the next 15 minutes, we will most definitely have a problem because they will not be able to fall asleep tonight which means they won't be able wake up in the morning. 

We met the teachers last night and got the bus number.  Yes, bus number!  They are going to try riding the bus home this year though I will still take them in the mornings.  7:15a.m. is waaay too early for bus catching.

Dev had told me that he was okay with riding the bus home this year (he will be in 6th grade and has never ridden the bus) but as I'm filling out a form in the Dracenator's classroom last night, he told Dray's teacher that he was going to be a car rider.  She was over there saying, "how's that gonna work?"   

Should I be feeling guilty now that I told him he's gonna ride the bus home?  The Dracenator is all excited about it but the thing is, they will get home a good 30 minutes later than if I pick them up.  I think we'll just have to see how this thing goes.  

I always had to ride the bus and I hated, hated, hated it!  This was because I had that whole shyness issue going on though. Charlie said he loved riding the bus because he had a captive audience in which to entertain.  See, this is a little what I'm afraid of with the Dracenator. That boy loves an audience, especially when it's made up of older kids. I'm afraid he would not hesitate to attempt a backflip over a bus seat if one of Dev's friends dared him to.

This is the last year those two will ever be in the same school together.  Next year Dev will be in middle school.  {Oh dear Lord, is that really true?  Aren't those like two of the most dreaded words in the English language?}  By the time the Dracenator gets there, Dev will be off to high school.  

Okay, okay, I've got to stop all this talk now or I'm gonna have a breakdown.  My "baby" was actually sitting on my lap last night as I tried to explain the happenings that were taking place on Back to the Future, which he had never seen.  ~does he make it back? does that old man die?  ~what was it like in the 50s? did you have a t.v.?  {Hello!  I'm nowhere near THAT old!}  What happens?!!  Why are they disappearing off the picture?  It was a little annoying but cute too and I couldn't help but giggle over some of his questions.  

I think I teared up once.  For one thing, he rarely sits on my lap anymore and my mind wandered down memory lane back to when he was a baby and then when Dev was a baby and then I started thinking how they will be young men towering over me before I can blink twice.

Then I started thinking how adopting a baby  (cause I can't have anymore naturally) would not be such a bad idea.  Don't worry, C, this always passes when the demolition duo starts back up throwing punches at each other or begging me for four wheelers and dirt bikes.

The Dracenator told me last night when we were watching America's Funniest Videos where one Y chromosome after another crashed his dirt bike into fences, poles and brick walls, "I wouldn't do stupid stuff like that on my dirt bike!"  Of course you wouldn't, baby, cause you are never going to have one. 

Hopefully, one day they will look back and realize that Mama wasn't being mean.  She was just trying to keep her boys safe and see them into manhood.  Not today though.  Today is the last day of summer for two little boys and I think I'll go take them to lunch and a movie.  :)

Monday, August 23, 2010

100th post and I swear, it was real

Okay, this is like my third or fourth attempt at my 100th post.  I just do not have any grand ideas here since I've already done that 100 random things about me list and the 100 item bucket list.  I am really not up to another list of 100 anything and I seriously doubt any of you are up for reading it.

I thought of going back through all my posts and picking out my faves but then I'd have to put a bunch of links in here and well, that would probably be rather annoying to try and read...usually is for me when I try to read someone's post that is linking me somewhere else every other sentence. 

So...I think I'll just wing this like I do just about every post I write. 

I am pretty certain that a black coyote ran out in the street in front of me this morning.  The boys were with me but neither of them saw it.  It ran right out in front of the car and disappeared into a cornfield.  I have never seen a black coyote but I am telling you that thing did not look or move like any dog I've ever seen either. I'm convinced it was a coyote and no, I am not taking drugs, prescription or otherwise. 

I've heard that old superstition about a black cat crossing your path and bringing bad luck.  What the heck does it mean for a black coyote to cross your path?

I think it's a good thing I'm not superstitious.  I did do a search about black coyotes but didn't find much information about them so I will declare right here and now that seeing a black coyote is a good omen.  Now it's in writing on the internet so it must be true, right?

I'm gonna need some good luck to get me through the next few weeks.  School starts back here Wednesday which means we have to GET UP EARLY.  The boys and I, mostly the Dracenator and myself, are not morning people.  We have Morning Bear Syndrome.  I just made that up...MBS...maybe I can get one of the big drug companies behind this and create a brand new drug that will promise to have us leaping out of bed with smile and song every morning. 

Of course, the side effects will include nausea, headaches, irritability, toenail fungus, inexplainable weight gain, warts on the hands and feet, loose stools, dizziness, the inability to operate a motor vehicle or other heavy machinery and hallucinations such as black coyotes.  Don't you just love those little disclosures at the end of those sunshine and rainbow drug commercials?

Anyway, back to what I was starting back. The good news is, there will now be 7 less hours a day that I will have to play referee between the loving brothers and I can maybe actually make it to the gym more than once every two weeks and write some blog posts that don't sound like they were written by a schizophrenic. 

Y'all believe me about the black coyote, right?  ;)

Thursday, August 19, 2010

A Childhood Obsession

I haven't participated in Mama Kat's writer's workshop in quite awhile so I thought I'd give it a stab today and write about the things I oddly obsessed about as a child.

I am quite sure there were many things I obsessed about but the one I recall most was the utmost importance I placed on my many dolls and stuffed animals.

I LOVED them all. Each.and.every one. and they all had names.  I recall Darlene, Shelia Claudia, Deborah Suzette, and countless others, including my prized collection of Garfields along with all his sidekicks: Odie, Arlene, Pokie and Nermil.

My BFF and I actually went through a stage where we decided they were "real"  and took this to the extreme.  I'm not sure which one of us declared this to be so but we were fully committed and took great lengths to convince everyone around us that it was the full truth.  

I remember us going to the local Sears (back before they were in malls!) with one of our parents and each carrying along two or three of our "babies".  They had these little blue strollers at the door and we each had one packed full.  We overheard a parent with a small child say in disgust, "That's why there aren't any strollers left!  They've got their DOLLS in them!"  We pretended to be shocked and mortified that this horrid woman would call our "children" who were clearly REAL such an ugly word and covered their ears so they couldn't hear this outrageous nonsense.

Looking back on this, I'm surprised our parents didn't get together and discuss whether or not to have the both of us tested and screened for mental disorders.

We pushed them around the neighborhood in baby buggies which led to outright screaming matches to the point of tears with the neighborhood boys who we played softball, road bikes and climbed trees with on a regular basis.  We were totally demolishing and obliterating our good standing reputation over this nonsense yet we held to our guns.

I thought my Dad was going to disown me once over Sheila Claudia.  I think the little incident I'm about to tell you about was the only time in my life, to this day, that I can recall him being truly furious with me.  I lived with my mom but usually spent weekends at his house where I had a stepsister, two years younger than me and a half-brother, 7 years younger. 

It was Christmastime and I was lying under the artificial Christmas tree with Sheila Claudia and playing with the tree in a way that was making it sway.  My brother was very young at the time and nearby.  I accidentally toppled the tree over and it fell on him and S.C.  He was crying and I was screaming, "Sheila!  Sheila!  Sheila's under there!"   Luckily, everyone was okay but I think it took my dad awhile to cool down over that one. 

I can't recall exactly how long we kept up this little charade but I do remember us having a talk about it in my backyard one summer and coming to the mutual agreement that it just wasn't true and that we needed to set things right.

I busted into the back door of the house and walked up to my mother who was washing dishes and said in a point blank and very matter of fact way, " I don't believe in Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy and I know my dolls aren't Real!"  She kind of gave me an open-mouthed stare for a minute and then said, "Well...okay." and I turned on my heels in a very drama queenish sort of way and headed back out to play, and it was never mentioned again.

But...just between you and me...Sheila is still in very good condition and now spends her days tucked quietly and safely away in my cedar chest. 

I may have to pay her a visit today.  ;)

For more writer's workshop posts, visit Mama Kat at Mama's Losin' It.
Mama's Losin' It

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Post it Note season and other stuff

I think I stayed away from the blog way too long.  There were crickets chirping up in here on my post yesterday.  I finally did get 2 comments and one was my sis.  The other was Laura at Purseblogger, one of the sweetest bloggers I know.  Thanks, ladies!

Today is Tuesday, which means Post It Note Tuesday with Supah.  Yay!  LOVE PINT!  :)

Monday, August 16, 2010

The gift of health and he can swim now?!

School starts back in nine days.  No more sleeping in way too late and staying up at night watching Hoarders and Intervention.

I don't know why I find it impossible to pass by those shows when I'm channel surfing.  Behavioral disorders have always been extremely interesting to me.  Maybe they just make me feel extra confident with myself and my own level of sanity. 

Speaking of my sanity, the Dracenator tested it to the best of his ability yesterday afternoon at a pool party for one of his friends from school.  First of all, I thought the kid didn't really know how to swim.  I had planned to take him for swim lessons this summer but never got around to it after my mom got sick. 

So, I'm all like..."is that the deep end or the shallow end?" that the kids were jumping into while playing a game when we got there.  It was the deep end.  I warn that he can't really swim so they show him to the shallow end.  Well, he can't stand that because all the other kids are jumping in the deep end and catching a ball that an adult is throwing to them. 

The next thing I know,  I look up and he is about to take his turn for the ball right in the deep end.  Charlie is preparing himself to go in after him, fully clothed.  Well, the little fish pops up like a bobber and swims right to the side.  I guess he knows how to swim now! He's diving, jumping through inner tubes and cuttin' flips off the side. 

I must have appeared to be the most overprotective nagging mother on the planet because I kept jumping up and reprimanding him.  Charlie had to go over once and threaten to remove him from the pool if he didn't stop cutting flips off the side and nearly missing the water and hitting the concrete with his corner jump.  He had two very close calls.  I needed a valium and a shot of Jose Cuervo by the time we left.

I got a Wendy's frosty instead.  My mom, the therapists and the other 3 patients on the rehabilitation floor made homemade ice cream at the hospital last week that she said tasted just like one so I had been craving one ever since.  

She went home Saturday, after a 17 night stay in the hospital.  I told y'all that she has a rare type of vasculitis called Wegener's Granulomatosis but as it turns out, they still haven't fully committed to that diagnosis.  I told her they may have to name a new vasculitis after her because she has not been a textbook case of any of them. 

She is currently on twelve different medications. The pharmacist's mind was completely blown when we tried to have them filled Saturday.  It resulted in 3 trips back and forth to the Wal-mart pharmacy, several phone calls and the tracking down of the doctor who wrote them at the hospital so that she could "explain" them to him.  

Fun times.

My mom still has a long road ahead but she has improved greatly since the day she went into the hospital.  We don't know for sure how much eyesight and feeling in her hands and feet that she will regain but she sounds like her "old" chipper self again when I talk to her on the phone and that is beautiful music to my ears. 

I've learned, through all of this, not to take my health and the health of those I love for granted because it truly is a fragile gift each and every day that we continue to be blessed with it.  

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Hospital Do's and Don'ts

Did y'all miss me? 

I have been spending all my days and many of my nights in a hospital which is, in fact, where I am at the current moment. 

No, I am not the patient.  It is my mother.  We got ready to take her to her doctor's appt. last Wednesday and when we got her to her feet (which was no small feat in itself) her vision went blurry.  She was transported from the doctor's office to the hospital via ambulance.  She has been a bit of a medical mystery. 

Where is that arrogant, know it all Dr. House when you need him?

After countless testing and a couple of "come to Jesus" meetings with some doctors and staff members, we seem to be getting somewhere though we have more of a clinical diagnosis at this point of a pretty uncommon disease called Wegener's Granulomatosis which is a type of vasculitis (inflammation of the blood vessels).  Treatment is corticosteroids so we are hoping to get her well soon.  

What I have observed while logging in all these hours at the hospital is that there are a lot of kind health professionals (and a few not so  much) who are all doing their individual jobs but often times fail to communicate both with each other and with the patient as well. 

Here is a little list of do's and dont's I'd like to see enforced in this hospital...

Do read over the entire chart before you enter the patient's room and ask them all the same questions they have already answered five thousand and ninety two times since they were admitted.

Don't  ask the patient if they have any results back yet on their biopsy.  Hello??  Aren't you the doctor who ordered the test?! 

Do try your very hardest to crack a smile when you introduce yourself to the patient and the patient's family.  A smile goes a long way people, a long way. 

Don't come in with yesterday's news.  Lack of knowledge makes you appear incompetent.  I don't work here.  I should not be the one to have to update the doctors and nurses on the latest results and happenings.  I say it again...READ the updated chart before you come in blind.

Don't omit information for any reason but especially not because you believe we are incapable of understanding it. Google is my very best friend, I'm a researcher at heart and I can pronounce the big words. Lay 'em on me, Einstein.  "Einstein" coincidentally, was the name of the ER doc who admitted her.  He was one of the good ones.

Don't express your hostilities while in the patient's room.  I really don't give a shit that your 20 year old self worked a 12 hour shift yesterday, that you are on the 14th hour (clearly!) of a 16 hour shift today, are going to nursing school and have to work at your mom's real estate business tomorrow.  All I want is for you to answer me nicely when I ask you a very legitimate question and to not slam and jerk things around while you are in the room.  Is that really too much to ask?

I don't know how much longer we will be here but I am quite sure I will come up with a few more before it is over. Meanwhile, I will breathe sighs of relief when I see the pleasant doctors and nurses with excellent communicative skills and bedside manners enter the room and take deep breaths and try to contain my inner madwoman when the other ones arrive.  

Y'all say a prayer.