Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Confessions of a Drama Queen
I am the Drama Queens' Drama Queen.
It's all about ME, ME, ME!
If All The World Is A Stage....
I want better lighting,
A bigger dressing room,
and
M.A.K.E.U.P!!!
I can complete for the spotlight with the absolute very best of them.
But I gotta tell ya, this center of the universe stuff is really starting to take it's toll on me.
Surgery last week. EXCELLENT attention getter.
Recovery. A week behind in my work.
and i have told you over the years that i LOVE my job. and as any Drama Queen would say, I am actually VERY GOOD at my job too.
'cept maybe for yesterday. one of my NYC customers - that does not like me for some unknown reason - escalates a project i am working on for him. (Also a fabulous way to draw attention to yourself) Fine. I had made my mgmnt aware of it last week - as i KNEW he (NYC A-hole) would escalate this.
so my manager calls him. NYC A-hole proceeds to yell at my mgr. It just so happens that my mgr is from NYC too. He yelled back. They yelled at each other for a while and then my manager called me.
In any event, i left the conversation/situation so beyond pissed off, i had the shakes - literally - for three hours yesterday.
SHOOK ALL THE WAY TO JURY DUTY.
Yes, I had jury duty this week.
And guess who got selected out of 50+ people to sit on the SIX person panel.
Say hello to juror #4.
That would be me.
Your truly
your favorite Drama Queen.
Hello, people I have only been off pain meds for three days. I haven't gone a day without a nap in almost two weeks.
My husband was actually "angry" with me (his words, not mine) for not trying to opt out of jury duty. I have a strong sense of civic duty when it comes to jury duty, voting and things like that. i opted out the last time when the baby sitter had the flu. in the same courthouse. Didn't feel right about trying that this time. Plus, i thought what are the chances i'll get picked...
Yeah. Right.
Back to that Drama Queen thing....
It's all about me.
for sure.
but it is starting to get old.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
sick to death of being sick and sore...
Today marks a week for this current illness.
As I said earlier, woke up Thursday morning thinking I had gotten bad food the night before.
Was still sick and in considerable pain by the time I drove myOWNself to the ER at 11AM on Saturday.
I am going to try and do the short version here so pay close attention...
I figured i had an ulcer
or it was all in my head
again
as it was back in March
After settling into the ER , they took me for a sonogram of my gut. The technician asks nonchalantly - while pushing & prodding on my sore gut - if they found anything other than the gallstones back in March?
do what?
who has gall stones?
You do. It's in your report.
Oh. that report. The one i never got.
if i had known i had gall stones i would not have taken a bottle of Tums, Maalox, Mylanta and popped several Lortabs from my root canal to try and stop the pain. I WOULD HAVE GONE AND SEEN A DOCTOR TWO DAYS AGO!
This alone should have been enough to tell me to get the hell out of that hospital.
but shortly after this, i was diagnosed with pancreatitis caused by a gall stone (i did not know i had) dropping down and blocking a common duct of the gall bladder and pancreas. And since gunk could not exit the pancreas, it caused something called auto-digestion. In effect, my pancreas was eating itself.
lovely, huh?
thus the pain.
so he tells me they are not releasing me and that i will have surgery to remove my gall bladder either today (saturday) or tomorrow(Sunday). that was around 1PM-ish.
I didn't really have time to get too alarmed about it b/c the nurse popped in with a healthy dose of morphine. Holy crap - no wonder ppl get addicted to that stuff.
Finally. Bliss. No Pain. Nice little high. Who cares we're having surgery...
i did not come back to my senses until they were rolling me into a hospital room and they referred to it as "semi-private."
again, s'cuse me?
I'll take a private room please. I pay a premium for my private health-care and i plan to use it to it's fullest.
There are no private rooms available.
And i know how this is going to sound to some people and i am sorry if i come across as sounding 'entitled' but quite frankly - i did not know semi-private rooms still existed.
The last time i had a 'room-mate' was college. I was not in pain and sick.
The room was currently empty. Two beds. so i got the one closest the door. Then they proceed to tell me that IF i get a roommate, my hubby will not be able to stay the night with me. That's illegal.
We have a family rule - when any family member stays overnight in the hospital - someone stays with them. And now you are telling me that my family rule is illegal if you give me a roommate?
And still there is more. I may be drugged - but i was still thinking...
Can you put me in a semi-private room and charge/bill me for a private one?
Doesn't work that way.
okay, so if i don't get a roomie, then my husband can sleep in the other bed?
Nope.
so where will he sleep.
nurse points at hard wooden chair by my bed - the only padding on the seat.
no cot? no recliner? no rocker? this is it?!
That's all we got she tells us.
you have got to be kidding me.
I should have unplugged my IV right then and walked, but still i stayed. Morphine had me firmly in it's grips.
So we waited.
for the surgeon.
to call
or show up
to find out when surgery would be
hubby could not get dinner at the hospital - their food service was closed.
nor could he run home (25 minutes away) and clean up and grab a bite to eat.
after seven hours of waiting i was SERIOUSLY considering leaving AMA.
We have lives too. families to update. kids to make arrangements for.
Two words come to mind - COMMON COURTESY.
then a nurse tells me that the surgeon legally has 24 hours to respond to the page. Did you know that?
so I asked her to page him.
an hour later we find out he is on his way to the hospital.
so 8.5 hours after i am told i will be having surgery - i finally meet the surgeon.
he splains the details. and that IT will take place tomorrow on Sunday somewhere around 10AM - 12PM. as he has a few other procedures scheduled b4 mine.
Family rule be damned - i send hubby home for the night. He had played with the remote control since we got into the room. I was sick of the clicking. I was sick of listening to NASCAR, Drag Racing, Wrestling, Boxing and all other shows that reek of testosterone.
Surgeon had told me he'd leave orders for a sleeping pill and continued pain management and i should get a good night's rest b4 the surgery.
Cool.
sleep.
after an hour, i buzz the nurse asking about my sleeping pill. she says there are no orders for a sleeping pill. i ask ever so sweetly if she will page the Dr as he obviously forgot to write it down.
Midnight, i get a sleeping pill.
and for the next 6 hours straight, my IV pump beeped - like an alarm clock every thirty minutes. Had to call the nurse. to shut the :*@!$)%5E$ thing off. Finally, after three hours or so of this, she tells me that it is beeping b/c I keep bending my arm where the IV is inserted into my body.
Sheez, lady - tell me that THREE hours ago! Would have made things a lot easier for BOTH of us.
Finally fell asleep. for maybe two hours...
Then i was awakened by a headache. Small pin prick of a headache. By the time hubby got there around 10AM, it was trainroaring monster of a pain between my eyes. Had tried an ice pack. Nurse 'juiced' my pain medicine, that only gave me a 'sick' headache. Finally another aide or angel or someone gave me 2 oz of water and a 500MG Tylenol. It took an hour to work and it only worked for like 10 minutes. Then back came the whistle stop in my head.
the headache nightmare continued till they came to take me to surgery around lunch time. I had to keep wash clothes over my eyes from the room to pre-op b/c the lights hurt so bad. I must have been a sight wheeling around like that. NOT THAT I CARE.
Did not quit hurting until the anesthesiologist started juicing me for the surgery. Ahhhh. finally. sweeet rreeellliieefff.
Then woke up from surgery and Sweet Jesus, Somebody Help Me!
NOBODY told me that the referral pain spot for the gall bladder was the right shoulder. That's where my torn tendon rotator cuff thingie is. and my Right Shoulder was on FIRE.
Apparently the gas they fill you up with so they can do the procedure laproscopic also goes to this area.
FIRE.
OUCH.
PAIN
HURT
SHOULDER.
NO!
I clearly remember saying these words over and over to the recovery nurse. I remember her finally telling me to "hush." Treating me and looking at me like I was a big baby.
The floor nurse had told me very clearly before I went down for the procedure that i needed to have my pain well under control before i left post-op. She explained to me that they could juice my meds ever ten minutes or so as needed down there but up on the floor, they could only give me pain meds every 2-4 hours.
Apparently the recovery nurse wasn't aware of this advice. Or had somewhere important to be after the last procedure on a Sunday afternoon.
SOMEONE DO SOMETHING BEFORE MY SHOULDER EXPLODES!
and then i remember her rolling my bed back to my room, having a hard time getting it to fit along side the bed already there and then pulling and pushing me from one bed to the other. Drugs and all - I clearly remember this part.
No one told hubby I was back in my room. He just found me there after a while.
And this is where he redeemed himself for not driving me to the hospital and for driving me batty with the remote the first 8 hours i was there. He made certain they gave me my pain meds every two hours - whether I needed them or not. I didn't come out of the surgery pain stupor until about 9PM Sunday night. And even then, I still felt like a hit and run victim.
We finally got home the next day. The night nurse tried to kick us out at 5:00AM telling us where the all night pharmacy was located. We left around 9 or 10. Bought every popsicle between the hospital and home.
And i then got into my own bed.
Ahhhhhh.
Felt 10 times better instantly.
LET IT BE KNOWN:
IF YOU HAVE LAPROSCOPIC SURGERY:
The WORST part of the whole damn thing is that they cannot get all the gas out of you - that they shoot in - so they will have room to work on your guts - when the surgery is over. This gas is in your body cavity. You cannot burp it out. You cannot toot it out. YOUR BODY HAS TO ABSORB IT. And apparently i got the non-absorpant variety. OMG, these gas bubbles STILL hurt me a week later. the gas gets in your joints and you pop and creak every time you move.
Going to the bathroom sounds like breakfast cereal - Snap, Crackle and Pop joining in.
And shall we talk about exquisite pain when these bubbles jiggled a part of you that had been cut and sewn on. I have had three kids people. Tubal after the last one.
This was NOTHING LIKE THAT. THIS SHIT HURT.
I can say with all certainty that this experience definitely rules out the tummy tuck I was planning. Will invest in SPANX instead.
Better now.
I completely understand why my shoulder Ortho Doc would not operate on my R shoulder until i got my back pain straightened out. He said, "I don't want you laid up from surgery when your back is in that shape."
I concur. My back almost killed me this week. Had to set my heating pad to BROIL to numb the pain. a day after the surgery, i hurt more in my back and shoulder than i EVER did in my gut.
Ain't life fun?!
And to think, the ER doc AND my dentist told me this week i have a high tolerance for pain. Me? Really? Who'd of thunk it?
And that is the short version...
Monday, May 07, 2007
guess how i spent my weekend
- i wore panties, this time
- i got high as a kite
- am now googling gall bladder surgery recovery
that's all i have the energy for.
there's a fabulous story coming. check back.
this, u don't want to miss
Saturday, May 05, 2007
the last good thing i remember
oh yes, jon bon jovi on AI.
and wasn't he good?!
i LOVE that song. talk about seductive. HELLO
other than that...
i had my first root canal this week
got the email from hell from my brother with unsolicited, half-informed, well-intentioned (i'm sure) advice on how to live my life, how to raise my kids, which house to buy and to point out that i obviously have a problem with Rx drugs and alcohol. yep. i think that covers most of it. Oh yeah, and i think he told me i should get some help. thanks bro. just what i needed to send me right back to the pits of emotional hell.
i guess the shrink and the psychologist i have been seeing for going on 18 months don't count. who knew???
next time you want to share the love, DON'T.
i either have some sort of ulcer or gall bladder attack going on b/c i have been hurting since the wee hours of thursday morning in my upper gut. sometimes dull burning - sometimes stabbing. no, nothing i have tried seems to help. 'cept lying in bed with the heating pad on high, moaning, some Lortab and a beer chaser. *rolling eyes*
yes, i have tried everything. no, i am not going to the ER. the last time i went they made me get nekkid, ran all kids of tests, told me it was all in my head and charged me way too much for all of it.
my dearest hometown girlfriend - that is a paper or two away from being a nurse practitioner - suggested last night that i drink this stuff - that she made me buy like 6 months ago - to clear out my guts.
she says to me, "t_cole, you're probably full of sh*t. drink XYZ and call me in the morning." now SHE can get away with saying stuff like that to me.
so i finally get to sleep and my phone rings at 2:11 AM. when your phone rings at 2:11 AM and one of your children is NOT under your roof - you levitate. hubby and i both did. as savvy is still in mississippi with my parents.
someone named something from some home security service tells me that my bestest city girlfriend's home alarm was tripped and when they called her house, the person at the house gave the wrong code and they have dispatched the police to said girlfriend's house.
me - Why are you calling me?
she - You are listed as her contact person.
me - I am?
she - Yes.
me - And what am I supposed to do now?
she - I don't know.
seriously folks.
i am like 1.5 hours drive away from her so it's not like i can run around the corner and check on her and her house.
CRAP! literally (thanks to the junk other GF had me drink) and figuratively.
so then it occurs to me. my 2 AM mind starting to spin......
this goof-ball friend of mine came home - shall we say "tipsy" - tripped the alarm, gave the wrong code, and now the police are coming to lock her up.
so i jump out of bed - OUCH - stomach - OUCH - stomach - OUCH - looking for my purse and cell phone, call GF and her hubby answers.
i tell him the police are on the way to his house. he says WHAT?!
so i give him the quick run-down on my call with whomever she was, he starts laughing and says "i guess i better go wait out front for the cops."
i tell him as i hang up -"TAKE SOME ID WITH YOU!"
i still hurt. my tummy and my heart.
but in some wicked weird way am so flattered that i am her security company contact.
i guess that's a good thing too.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
the stars have aligned

on for TWO nights in a row.
(so help me GAWD if Paula so much as touches him!)
how could it possibly get any better than this?
i think i will stop and buy a lottery ticket today.
it's just that good
Friday, April 27, 2007
shall we define irony overkill?
the state inspection on my minivan has been expired since january of this year
on the way to dropping my son off at Mother's Day Out at the local FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH, a TEXAS STATE TROOPER pulled in behind me. lights a flash'n
I was early for drop off. for once. so all the other moms were pulling in right behind me.
on this particular day i am giving my friend J's daughter, A, a ride to day care. J's hubby is the new preacher at MY church.
so to recap, State Trooper. lights flash'n. FBC of Nowhereville TX. me, my son and my preacher's daughter trying to unload and get into day care. i'm not certain, but i don't think i even brushed my teeth b4 i left home that morning.
so i say sweetly, "Mr. State Trooper, i know why you stopped me. here's my license and insurance card. may i please get my children inside?"
he politely granted my request.
i walk in with son and preacher's daughter. explain to all the wide eyed moms that NO, I was not speeding (this time) and that my inspection sticker was expired...
Kiss Kiss. Bye Bye.
hastily depart.
return outside to sign my non-moving violation.
i jokingly explain to the trooper that my husband is a CERTIFIED STATE INSPECTOR for the great state of TX and he (the state trooper) has absolutely no idea how much hell my hubby is going to catch when he gets home.
Mr. Trooper says "I don't blame you b/c this goes on YOUR record and NOT his."
want just a wee bit more irony...
Mr. Trooper tells me that usually if i get the inspection done in the next ten days they will waive the fine. that I will need to see Judge D in XYZ court.
i actually laughed out loud. Judge D and i teach sunday school together. i have never called him Judge D a time in my life - only by his first name. His wife is one of my dearest friends.
i am still not kidding. there are about 40 ppl TOTAL that go to my church. and one of them happens to be Judge D.
and Judge D has always told us that if any of us (from church) ended up in his court, he'd treat us the same as anyone else that ends up in his court.
so what do i do???
i phone Judge D's office number on the citation as soon as i pull out of the parking lot. oh yes i did.
of course he was not in the office.
sunday morning - at church - i am going to tell him that i know i am not supposed to ask for special treatment or anything....
but if he could lock my husband up for a few days over this little incident, i'd be most grateful.
Monday, April 23, 2007
in my next life
i have way too much stuff
i will be a nudist -
i have entirely too many clothes - most of which i don't wear but cannot stand to part with
NOTE TO SELF - stock up on sun block...
i will eat out more -
Way too many pots, pans, plates and kitchen gadgets
i will not have kids -
i will regret if for my entire next lifetime, but i gotta tell ya - for every widget i got, they have two gadgets. For ever single piece of clothing i have, they have THREE.
None of this ever really occurred to me as a serious problem-
too much 'stuff'
too many clothes
spoiled kids with almost every single thing they ever wanted and then some...
UNTIL I HAD TO PACK ALL THIS SH*T UP.
I HATE MOVING!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
true friends...
in any event, i am going to need a true friend for one or the other reasons soon. because:
A. I am either moving or
B. I am going to kill my hubby for not kicking it into high gear and helping me move.
any takers???
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Don’t want to miss the bandwagon…
Children can and should be raised with love, understanding, patience and attention and they grow to reflect those traits - more often than not. Same thing works with dogs. Raise them with love, understanding, patience and attention and more often than not they grow to reflect those traits.
But as there are children raised in loving environments who later in life do not reflect their upbringing, so are there with dogs. Ever see or read Lord of the Flies? Hello??!!
I am NOT a pit bull expert by any stretch of the imagination. Not by a long shot. And I am not waving a flag that this breed is for everyone. But if you are going to have an opinion about anything people – have an informed one. Don’t believe everything you read and hear in the news. Anyone with half a brain knows how the truth can be distorted in our “non-biased” US media circus.
I am sharing the following with you from my gut, my personal experience and from my heart.
I am told there are two classes or types of breeds of pit bulls. Those with ‘game’ and those without ‘game.’ My limited understanding is that game pits are more aggressive and are more inclined to engage aggressively with other animals (specifically dogs) than non-game pits. My husband always - ALWAYS - told me that we would never own a pit bull that was game. That he would “put it down” because that is not a trait he wants to perpetuate in the breed. Again – this is his/our personal opinion. Not one shared by all pit bull owners.
We’ve had three pit bulls in our marriage. In fact my husband had a house, a truck and a pit bull named Vice Grip when I married him. It was a package deal. And when we married I had the same misconceptions and biases against pit bulls that most people do. Until I lived with one, then two and now three.
And do NOT misunderstand me. Pits are a breed unto themselves. They were bred for fighting. This is their nature – this cannot be disputed. But they were originally bred for fighting other dogs. Not people. These dogs are ONLY for informed, educated, and loving owners – people such as my hubby.
Once, our Vice Grip escaped through the open garage door, ran across the street, and engaged (in what Vice Grip considered play) another dog being walked by its mortified owner.
My hubby had ALWAYS told me that when the dog was “in the pit” fighting, that the referee (or whatever they call them) could put his hands/body between the fighting dogs – to disengage them and the dogs would not hurt the person. I had never tested this assertion before. Nor did I ever plan to. But in this instance I had no choice.
Years later I held Vice Grip in my arms as the vet put him down. He got off his chain and lost a battle with either a car or a neighbor’s cow. I wept as if I would never stop. Even bloody, injured and dying, that dog would not/did not in any way show aggression towards me. Only love and loyalty.
And I don’t know if our pits were unique or anything – but they really had no concept they were dogs. They sincerely believed they were people and when we actually treated them like dogs – it was a serious affront to their canine dignity.
Pits also have no concept of their size or weight or strength. Which unfortunately leads to many of today’s common misconceptions. Dixie Cup Cole climbed into my lap to watch TV when she was 65 pounds as she did when she was 6.5 pounds. Made her no nevermind. My lap was where she should be – therefore that’s where she went. She did the same to our kids – much to their chagrin and mashed little bodies. They quickly learned how to share the recliner with her and not be her pillow.
We don’t have any pit bulls now.
we had Dixie Cup Cole since she was a baby. This past January 1, she turned one. she was beautiful. gorgeous. green eyes, red nose. awesome combination. and as docile with the kids as you could ever ask for from any dog. Played rough with them when they initiated the activity. but never EVER showed any aggression toward them. Just active rough and tumble play.
If you read this blog you already know - I can hardly take care of myself most days lately. I struggle to handle the kids. the house is a wreck. Taking care of the dog was just over the top. Neither David nor I could spend enough time with her to justify having such a physically STRONG dog around our kids. She could really hurt them just playing with them. Not with her BIG teeth or razor-sharp claws. But I’d be willing to bet she could’ve literally pulled all three of them – at the same time - by her leash the length of our seven acres and back without breaking a sweat.
So about the time we decided to move back to the city, we decided to move Dixie out too. Hubby was reminded that his nephew in Mississippi LOVED and respected pits and had a few. So he called and his Nephew was THRILLED to have our baby girl - especially with her papers and excellent blood line. Not to brag, but Dixie was a $1K puppy that was given to us from a dear friend when our last pit puppy BB was accidentally run over.
Nephew got her on Monday. took her straight to the vet. played with her all day - took her to work with him each day. Loved on her - reassured her that all was well in her new home and that she would be just fine. He said she was skittish at first in her new home but he was willing to do whatever was necessary to help her make the adjustment. Only yesterday afternoon, my daughter Savvy went over and played with her. A friendly, familiar face for our Dixie must have been a welcome relief.
but last night - while she was outside on her chain – hubby’s uncles dog's (not nephews other pits) attacked and killed Dixie. Nephew heard the commotion. ran out. Dixie was already down, but still alive. he wrapped her up. rushed her to the vet but he could not save her.
The dogs that killed her – pit bulls. Pure bred. With game. “Outside dogs” that rarely, if ever, were given the dedicated love and attention they required.
I would be willing to bet – and it tears my heart to pieces – that Dixie didn’t even put up much of a fight. She was always submissive to other dogs here. Always. I can just imagine her not understanding why these dogs were hurting her.
Sam is devastated it. it hurt her heart bad enough just to send Dixie to Miss. Hubby worked out this great story about how she (Dixie) wanted to be a Mommy dog and that Nephew had the Daddy dog and they would be Husband and Wife dogs and have Baby dogs. Sam still did not like it, but the thought of the happy dog family placated her well.
now there will be no happy dog family. There is no happy family at my house either.
i know it's just a damn dog.
but it's not either.
the night before she left us, hubby bathed her and that 65 lb 'puppy' slept in bed with us just like one of the kids. under the covers, head on the pillow. we never let her do this - was just hubby’s way of saying good bye. neither of us realized it would be so permanent.
I may never change anyone’s opinions about pit bulls.
And that’s not really my intent.
My opinion was changed. our baby is gone.
that’s really all that matters in my house.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
change, it is acoming
against my better judgement.
KIDDING.
and to my local friends and family -
i apologize if you learn the following information here before you hear it directly from me...
we are moving
leaving the farm. (farm-ette)
moving back to the hustle and bustle of city life.
back to the old neighborhood my hubby grew up in.
i cannot begin to express to you how difficult this decision has been for us.
we love it here.
wide open spaces
no street lights
stars at night
neighbors - although the very best on the planet - not so close as to be able to string a clothes line between our homes.
a small country church where we are accepted, welcomed, and the people there have never treated our special needs daughter as anything but just special.
simple living at it's absolute very best.
a home we love. where the kids can literally run in and out the FRONT or BACK doors and i don't have to sweat it.
so why are we doing this?
the last week of March found me in the ER thinking i was having a heart attack. seriously. chest pain. difficulty taking a deep breath. sobbing uncontrollably.
after a medical work-up - heart and lungs - the prognosis was the worst panic/anxiety attack i have ever experienced IN MY LIFE. and i can count on one hand how many panic attacks i have ever had.
Side Bar: real life funny story from the ER. They whisked us right back when we said the words "chest pain." fella put us in a small ER room, gave me a gown - you know the ones - and told me to take off everything but my panties.
i don't wear panties (or drawers - as we call them where i am from). haven't worn them in quite a while - but that's another story...
so anywho, he comes back in and starts putting these ekg sticker thingies all over my body. imagine his shock when he pulls up my gown and sees 'christmas.' but he keeps going. sticker after sticker. finally i look at him and say, "You know - if you're going to see me nekkid, the least you could do is introduce yourself." He did - and kept right on with the sticker thingies.
my husband was cringing in the corner.
back to the serious stuff...
life has been pressing down on me to the extent that i could not/cannot handle it any longer. and i'm a pretty tough cookie.
daughter #1, Sam, goes to the very best school in the US - bar none - to assist her with her numerous learning differences and speech delay. With their guidance and instruction, she has a SERIOUS chance at a normal life one day. her tuition for the past three years has exceeded what i paid for my four-year college degree. and we have paid it gladly. as well as the fuel bill to get her back and forth. which thanks in large part to "W" get higher every single day... (i digress and if i start a rant on this one - i WILL have a coronary!)
hubby takes her to school every morning. with traffic it is over an hour commute. w/out traffic, 45 minutes to an hour. we are talking about an 8 year old child making this kind of commute daily and her parents doing the same to get her back and forth.
and me trying to work a full-time job.
with a three year old under foot.
no baby sitter since November.
no help with normal, daily house work.
and while my son just started a two day a week mother's day out program -and LOVES it - i cannot get him to school, pick up Sam in town and then be home to meet Savvy off the bus after school. every week - a balancing act.
and we - as a family - have at minimum - one Dr.'s appointment in Dallas/week. usually it is two to three appointments. that's an hour into town, and hour or so for the visit and then an hour back home. three hours running here, there and yonder when i should be home doing my job - the one that PAYS me so i can support my family.
so we are moving. to be closer to the school, the doctors and the in-laws (which have been nothing short of PHENOM in helping us out.)
we are selling a house
we are buying a house
i have sent my six year old daughter to Mississippi to live with my folks and finish out the last two months of Kindergarten there.
THIS ALMOST KILLED ME.
Cried for two hours the night before she left. laid in bed holding her as she slept and sobbed silently trying hard not to wake her or let my tears fall onto her hair. (she'd had her hair straight-ironed that morning and would have been extremely pissy with me if i had messed that up.)
she will be fine. 100%. she LOVES going to school in Mississippi. She has told me numerous times she wants to go back to school in Mississippi. So I asked her saturday night if she still wanted to go back to school in Mississippi.
"YES!" was the answer.
so i said "Pack your bags."
and she did in less than 5 minutes flat.
selling a house.
buying a house
packing. moving. working. taking care of kids.
it's going to be madness for quite awhile -
but eventually
someday soon
i hope
i pray
this brings sanity back to our lives
to our family
it's a hell of a lot of work being a family.
don't ever let anyone else ever try to tell you otherwise...
Sunday, April 01, 2007
sinking
the surface above me
ripples moving
rhythmically with the wind
Sunday, March 25, 2007
AMEN

*******

Friday, March 23, 2007
SO HELP ME....


I SPENT THE GREATER PART
OF LAST NIGHT TRYING
TO CONVINCE HIM
THERE IS NOT A T-REX
OR MONSTERS IN OUR HOUSE.
SO HELP ME...
Monday, March 19, 2007
I HAVE A NEW REASON TO LIVE
YES, I AM YELLING AT YOU!
well not so much at you as i am yelling out loud for EVERYONE to hear!
BON JOVI HAS A NEW ALBUM
AND THE FIRST SINGLE
IS RELEASED TOMORROW.
did ya hear ME????
TOMORROW, TOMORROW, I LOVE YA TOMORROW.
no, wait - correct sentiment - wrong song, certainly wrong artist.

Are these boys not delicious?!
don't ya just want to take a bite?
at the very least, a nibble?
is it getting warm in here or is that just me???
anywho - just got the email and i have been doing the little bon jovi happy dance all over the house. (Not really - too tired and lazy after my trip to LA last week and the west coast time change thing along with the daylight savings and my flight being delayed and driving all day yesterday to pick up my daughter after a week's visit in Mississippi -inhale- anyway, i am tired) so i have been THINKING about doing the bon jovi happy dance all over the house.
The actual press release:
(March 19, 2007 – New York, NY) Flush with the success of their record-breaking world tour and multi-platinum album Have A Nice Day
– Island Records group Bon Jovi has completed a new album, LOST HIGHWAY.
Produced by Dann Huff (Keith Urban, Rascal Flatts) and John Shanks (who co-produced Have A Nice Day, and whose credits include Sheryl Crow, Melissa Etheridge, Chris Isaak and others) LOST HIGHWAY will arrive in stores June 19th on Island Records/Mercury Nashville. “(You Want To) Make A Memory,” the first single from the new album, will be blasted out to radio on Tuesday, March 20th.
Hello Boys. I've been waiting on yoooouuuuu!
Monday, March 12, 2007
why i would never commit suicide...
- the most important reason i would never commit suicide is my family - specifically my kids. i could not leave them with that legacy. i'd rather them raised by a "kooky" mom than left by one unable to handle life and therefore ended hers.
- i am a ninny. pain scares me.
- i am afraid i would burn in hell for eternity
- don't want my husband to get the life insurance money. not because i don't love him or anything but i have no doubt that while my body rots in the ground he'd go out and buy a brand new red dodge viper. and i'd have to come back and haunt his ass. And at the very least - when i am dead, i want to rest - not have to get up and chase him around (in order to haunt him) in his sexy new little sports car.
- i have to know how this season of 24 will end
- have not been to scotland yet
- even though i have my own personal set of demons i deal with on a regular basis and they make me flat out batty sometimes, i love life. i love living. i love not knowing what tomorrow will bring.
Richard Jenni, comedian, shot and killed himself yesterday in West Hollywood. He's the guy that did the private engagement for my company's conference last year in Vegas. He brought the house down. He's the one I got to meet backstage with our CEO after the show. He's the guy that seemed so sincere and upbeat and glad to meet us in order to make sure he had done a great job for our company.
he obviously had his own demons.
you never really know when you meet someone what their demons may be.
i have demons.
you never really know if the people you deal with every day consider suicide as a way out.
everyday.
i consider it.
would never, EVER do it. for the reasons listed above and a thousand more.
but i still consider it. i relate - in a very twisted sort of way - to the people who actually do it. i do not extol their actions or wish to follow in their footsteps. i simply relate to the emotion that got them to the point of complete and utter desperation.
how sad that they did not have something to live for.
Monday, March 05, 2007
it was NOT the peanut butter
anywho, his sweet little bones are not poking out any more - 'cept where they are supposed to. his cheeks are round and rosy again. not hollow and pale. his personality is back in full swing - and then some. it's as if he has to make up for lost time.
he woke from his nap yesterday full of piss and vinegar. he father picked him up out of his bed and deposited him in my lap on the couch.
son immediately demanded "i want a 'nola bar NOW!"
TRANSLATED: "May I please have a granola bar dear sweet mother?"
so i threw him a curve ball.
i casually asked in my deflecting i'm-gonna-try-to-get-you-to-eat-an-apple mother tone "You want a sucker?"
"NO! I want a..... YEAH!" HIS EYES BIG. MOUTH OPEN. "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY MOTHER" stare.
i laughed until i cried
that was fun
i need more moments like that
don't we all...
Thursday, March 01, 2007
damn doctors...
went to the eye Dr to get new contacts and glasses. so he is doing his exam and i mention that i am starting to notice a small problem with reading fine print. not the computer screen, not the newspaper. not magazines.
F.I.N.E P.R.I.N.T.
you know, the tiny stuff.
he has the AUDACITY to point out that i am almost 40 and this kind of stuff happens when your eyes get older.
'scuse me?!?
i am attached to those eyes and i am certainly not getting anywhere NEAR older.
i never felt so old or insulted in all my barely 39 years. puh-lease.
then i go the my new family doctor. i haven't had one (a family Dr.) in years and my OB/GYN - who wrote me a script for anything i called and asked for - RETIRED. so i figured i should build a relationship with a new Dr. so that when i get pink eye again or my sinuses implode, i can actually get an appointment with someone i have met and approved of previously when NOT sick.
so i meet this new dr. she is young. (my age-ish) hip. cool. she thinks i am funny. she listened to me. we connected. clicked. she did a thorough exam. ordered blood work - all the normal things one does for a well checkup type experience.
she tells me she'll follow up with me on my blood results. see ya next year type thing and then she hands me some papers. printed material on some of the issues we had discussed. has her name and address on the top. nice touch, i think. just general information about being a woman and what you should do to have good health at this phase of your life.
and then i see it
the material she gave me is for the 40-49 year old woman age range.
HEEELLLLOOOOO, NEW DOCTOR - that i was really digging...
I AM 39 FREAK'N YEARS OLD.
I AM NOT 40.
Not for another 11 months and 5 days. (not that i am counting.)
and not that there is anything wrong with being 40. I think it will be just grand.
BUT I AM NOT 40.
DON'T FREAK'N RUSH ME!
and finally...
my daughter Samantha sees a psychologist once a week for counseling. i go in for 15 minutes and tell the doc how our week went and then Sam spends the rest of the hour (50 minutes) with the doc doing whatever it is they do.
so this week - based on the doc's suggestion - we started a new reward system with the goal of modifying unacceptable behaviour.
the idea is that every time we 'catch' a kid doing something nice, right, good, we add a penny to the small fruit jelly jar. when the jar is full, the kids get a reward. we decided the first reward would be really good - a trip to Chuck E. Cheese - aka adult purgatory!
so the kids nic-named the jar, "The Chuck E. Cheese" jar.
the first morning we used it, yesterday, WOW and holy COW! i have never seen better kids. jumping over each other to listen, follow directions, share, be kind to each other, get dressed, brush teeth and hair - not one complaint or whine.
not a single one.
Mom and Dad did not have to raise their voices once. It was like Mr. Roger's house on speed. the pennies just kept clinking in that jar. i thought it was brilliant. i envisioned a happy home with well-behaved children and clean floors for the rest of my natural life.
this morning I walked into Sam's room with the bunnies hop, hop, hopping under my feet, the blue birds singing on my shoulder. picture Snow White in the forest with the small, sweet, innocent, smiling animals. that was me almost skipping in to wake my precious angel from her slumber to start another glorious day in the Happy House.
soft sweet mother voice sings out...
"Samantha darling, it's time to get up and get ready for school. and don't forget about the Chuck E. Cheese jar..."
from under the covers comes a low growling rumble...
"I HATE THE CHUCK E CHEESE JAR!"
damn doctors...
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