I took down the tree! There is no evidence of Christmas remaining, except for the fiberoptic tree, which goes into a box, balls and all, when I am ready. The real tree was coming apart into little sprigs of dead pine all over the living room, and I was so tired of having it block out every bit of light that came through that window. Must rethink that location for next year.
The thing is, it wouldn't be so bad. I mean, Christmas is a nice and happy time. Until you are the person responsible for unpacking 17 boxes of accumulated CRAP that just clutters up the house for a minimum of three weeks. And then the person responsible for repacking these 17 boxes. Why can't we just have one box of ornaments, and then maybe a few small items for around the house? How lovely would that be? Buy a tree, take out THE box, trim the tree. Done.
Although I love the Village. Don't want to shortchange that. However - snow everywhere - the roads curl up - the people fall over - the lampposts don't light - pieces break when I pack them up - trees stick me and don't fit in the box that I think they came in. And this year, thanks to Puff and Rusty, I went light on the Village: no people, no snow, no street lights, no trees. It was a beautiful scene.
As I expected, I am so grateful that I didn't put up many lights outside. Just the dancing snowmen and the lighted one. And some ribbon and garland, but that comes down easily at any time, like the fiberoptic tree.
I just love to have my house back. I feel like it's spring already. The dust shows up on everything, and I can really see how bad of a housekeeper I am with all that clutter gone. It inspires me to vacuum and clean. For about two hours.
But now it's the dreaded New Years Eve. We are actually invited to a party this year - that's two years in a row! However, as the day got closer I found myself thinking how much I liked the years when we just went to my favorite restaurant, Bahr's, in Highlands, and ate their crab cakes and drank Kendall Jackson chardonnay. That is my favorite New Years Eve.
Now Brian has just come home and he is complaining that it's winter, so we shouldn't go to a shore restaurant. Contradictory to that, he says - but it will be packed! So we'll see what happens. Megan has a sore back, and no wonder, that training this week = overtraining. I told her to tell the coach she's sore, take a couple of days off later in the week. She won't even hear of it. I used to feel like a pressure parent, telling her not to miss practice. Now I can't get her to take a day off here and there. The county championship meet is Saturday afternoon, I don't want her to hurt herself; they're also using medicine balls again.
Meanwhile, I emailed all of Brian's teachers regarding their Christmas comments on the progress report. I asked two of them to fill in questionnaires for his neurologist, and I have been researching "executive dysfunction". I found a published paper on one site that sounded like it was written about Brian. But Kevin says it is like a horoscope, that it would apply to anybody. Well, again ... we'll see. I don't expect to hear back from any of them before school starts back up on Wednesday.
Well, there are just seven hours remaining in 2007. I must go and put them to good use.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Sunday Sunday
Megan is home! I expect she will sleep for most of the day. They got home early and practiced, then we were all home doing our thing when the cable suddenly went out. Thankfully it was only out for less than an hour. Life does NOT go on in this house so well without the cable. The computer, a phone line, and all the TVs become lifeless. Now XBox Live has become a factor. But once the rest of the neighborhood realized it, comcast listened.
I see that something has enabled the picture in my last post to show up on its own. I'm not sure what I did or why. But there is Puff. Who just fell to the floor from the table she is standing on, for no apparent reason. She is trying to eat my fiberoptic tree. Eventually I will figure out why the picture is so huge, and why it isn't positioned according to the layout I thought I had selected.
Today is the last Jets game of the season. This Jets season is the most ridiculous joke ever. Kevin and Brian have season tickets, but they don't have a parking pass. This doesn't even mean they have to pay for parking. It means they CAN'T park, unless they go to a satellite lot and get bused back to the stadium. So they have to scrounge rides with people who go up hours before the game to drink beer and eat ribs: rain, sleet, freezing rain, or shine.
Today there is an added twist. At the Giants heartbreaking loss to the Patriots last night, an escalator malfunctioned. Today, all escalators will be turned off for the day. So - no parking, no escalators. Lots of walking for those unfortunate souls. Hopefully in a couple of years, the new stadium will make it all worthwhile. The question is, will the Jets?
On top of that, Megan has to go to a Sweet Sixteen party tonight. I will be, once again, home by myself. I'll have to drive her there and back, perhaps, and so far she has no gift or card. All she has is a dress. And I wonder if she will be able to move when she gets out of bed anyway, after all the workouts this week.
I'm looking at the clock and considering church. I'm thinking that I went twice this week already. It looks cold outside. I think I'll just stay in and try to finish laundry.
I see that something has enabled the picture in my last post to show up on its own. I'm not sure what I did or why. But there is Puff. Who just fell to the floor from the table she is standing on, for no apparent reason. She is trying to eat my fiberoptic tree. Eventually I will figure out why the picture is so huge, and why it isn't positioned according to the layout I thought I had selected.
Today is the last Jets game of the season. This Jets season is the most ridiculous joke ever. Kevin and Brian have season tickets, but they don't have a parking pass. This doesn't even mean they have to pay for parking. It means they CAN'T park, unless they go to a satellite lot and get bused back to the stadium. So they have to scrounge rides with people who go up hours before the game to drink beer and eat ribs: rain, sleet, freezing rain, or shine.
Today there is an added twist. At the Giants heartbreaking loss to the Patriots last night, an escalator malfunctioned. Today, all escalators will be turned off for the day. So - no parking, no escalators. Lots of walking for those unfortunate souls. Hopefully in a couple of years, the new stadium will make it all worthwhile. The question is, will the Jets?
On top of that, Megan has to go to a Sweet Sixteen party tonight. I will be, once again, home by myself. I'll have to drive her there and back, perhaps, and so far she has no gift or card. All she has is a dress. And I wonder if she will be able to move when she gets out of bed anyway, after all the workouts this week.
I'm looking at the clock and considering church. I'm thinking that I went twice this week already. It looks cold outside. I think I'll just stay in and try to finish laundry.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Picture This
" border="0" alt="" />I am trying to take my blogging to the next stage of the learning curve: photo inserts. Let me try that right now.
It didn't work.
Let me try again. Ok it said it uploaded that one, and there's all kinds of code at the top of this entry. I'm going to hit preview and see what happens. oh lovely...a blank box with an x in the corner. I'll publish the post and see what it shows.
Well. It didn't work. Stay tuned to this space for future endeavors. Meanwhile, feel free to draw in the empty space.
Friday, December 28, 2007
It's All in the Name
Some days, I sit down with the laptop and considering writing a post, because I am out of emails to which I can reply and I still feel like babbling. Then I think, what will I name the post? As if it matters, because who reads this anyway? But still, I feel like everything I write has to have some creative name, like that must be one of the rules of blog-dom. Someone should have a book on blog titles. Once I searched one of mine and was so saddened to see that I am not nearly as original as I fancy myself to be.
Megan is recovered. The trip will be over tomorrow, when they return home and have to swim one more time at their own pool. What a relief that will be. I think they're having fun. Some of the kids are getting into trouble here and there, others should be getting into worse but aren't getting caught.
Brian was in a three day baseball camp and insisted I come to watch the scrimmage for the last half hour of the day. I am always amazed at the way the coaches, who should remain impartial, will jump and dive for the balls just to make the out, and technically, they're not even on the team, they're acting as pitcher and catcher for both teams. It reminds me of the time we played a family softball game at the church picnic and Kevin's heroic play at first base. The batter? A five year old girl.
I bought the cats real fur mice to play with, so they're batting them all over the house now. I wanted to go visit our share-a-pet cat down at the Humane Society, but Brian has other plans, of which I don't really approve. He is still desperate to find out why the XBox Live isn't working.
Hard to believe it's already Friday. The weekend and New Years' holidays will fly by, I'm sure. And then it's back to the grindstone, with barely a day off for months. Hopefully that will bring the focus back to reality for some of us.
Megan is recovered. The trip will be over tomorrow, when they return home and have to swim one more time at their own pool. What a relief that will be. I think they're having fun. Some of the kids are getting into trouble here and there, others should be getting into worse but aren't getting caught.
Brian was in a three day baseball camp and insisted I come to watch the scrimmage for the last half hour of the day. I am always amazed at the way the coaches, who should remain impartial, will jump and dive for the balls just to make the out, and technically, they're not even on the team, they're acting as pitcher and catcher for both teams. It reminds me of the time we played a family softball game at the church picnic and Kevin's heroic play at first base. The batter? A five year old girl.
I bought the cats real fur mice to play with, so they're batting them all over the house now. I wanted to go visit our share-a-pet cat down at the Humane Society, but Brian has other plans, of which I don't really approve. He is still desperate to find out why the XBox Live isn't working.
Hard to believe it's already Friday. The weekend and New Years' holidays will fly by, I'm sure. And then it's back to the grindstone, with barely a day off for months. Hopefully that will bring the focus back to reality for some of us.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
'Twas Two Days After Christmas
Megan is better. They tried to send her home, tried to exaggerate her symptoms to some degree, but she toughed it out and made it to the afternoon practice, and is begging to eat pizza tonight. I hope that was all there was to it.
Puff is locked in the bathroom with "no-sorb" in a litterbox, the poor thing. I wonder how long she will wait to pee. I think she is starting to just get used to living in the bathroom. She actually seems pretty happy in there. There are no scary monsters, and she doesn't have to spend the whole day hiding under a couch.
So, Christmas was two days ago. I am such a scrooge this year. I have no emotion for the lights that hang all over the lawns, or the millions of lighted reindeer. Not even the white plywood mangers. Mostly I am just glad I never got too carried away, because there is less to take down next week. The tree is drying out, and I can't wait to get it out of the living room window. Is there no joy in Christmas without Santa? There used to be. I think it's the commercialism. After having kids and seeing the materialism, sometimes Santa seems to bring more greed to the holiday than charm.
On a lighter note, New Years Day is coming up. A fresh start for 2008? At least it has a nice ring to it.
Puff is locked in the bathroom with "no-sorb" in a litterbox, the poor thing. I wonder how long she will wait to pee. I think she is starting to just get used to living in the bathroom. She actually seems pretty happy in there. There are no scary monsters, and she doesn't have to spend the whole day hiding under a couch.
So, Christmas was two days ago. I am such a scrooge this year. I have no emotion for the lights that hang all over the lawns, or the millions of lighted reindeer. Not even the white plywood mangers. Mostly I am just glad I never got too carried away, because there is less to take down next week. The tree is drying out, and I can't wait to get it out of the living room window. Is there no joy in Christmas without Santa? There used to be. I think it's the commercialism. After having kids and seeing the materialism, sometimes Santa seems to bring more greed to the holiday than charm.
On a lighter note, New Years Day is coming up. A fresh start for 2008? At least it has a nice ring to it.
It's a ... Dead Bird??
So the other day, a flock of birds fell from the sky onto Staten Island sidewalks. They were just flying along, and then they died. It was like a scene from a movie, the onlookers all said. But, it's ok. Probably just something they ate, or some pesticide. No need to worry that the same thing happened in Austin, Texas, and also in Australia a year or so ago. I guess those two locales have not experienced any major disruption, unless you were one of the birds, so why be worried. Of course, it's all upwind of New Jersey. Isn't it?
We survived our holiday visit and I managed to keep my less-than-gracious hostess-ness to a minimum (I think). I only barked a few times when my car was blocked in, or coffee and cookies were spilled on the floor, or... oh it's over with now, why dwell on it?
Christmas was very nice, although the Monster-in-Law played a few of her usual tricks, causing me to be the less-than-gracious daughter-in-law she knows so well. She was fairly grumpy by the end of the evening, but if you ask me, that was unjustified. She was the one who got to stretch out her legs in the front seat, recline her chair, and talk to her heart's content about everyone who has died, will soon die, and have lost all their money playing naked Twister. So what if we didn't all come in and pet her dog? Ok, so what if we didn't even want to roll down our windows to say goodbye...
Today was the day for the big swim team training trip departure. After practice, everyone loaded into vans and SUVs for the two hour drive up to the practice pools and the hotel. By dinnertime, Megan was not feeling well. Fingers are crossed. I hope she can feel better. We found out that the hosts of our party from the other night all came down with a stomach bug the very next day. Yikes. Luckily the poor chaperone is also a nurse. She gave Megan all sorts of various remedies. Hopefully, all are sleeping soundly now.
That is my main gripe. Also, the cat pee. The cat pee is popping up everywhere, and Puff. Is. In. Heat. Again. I made her appointment. She is being spayed on January 8. I can hardly wait, except that will mean it is almost my birthday; and I still won't have gotten a haircut. I forgot to cancel my appointment (another swim meet coming up), but I must. And I almost forgot to take the dog for her bath this morning. When I went to pick her up, I didn't even recognize her. Her face has gone so white that she looks like a blonde golden.
The other day, I was walking around and heard a flock of birds. I held my breath, but they kept on going. So I guess life goes on in New Jersey for now.
We survived our holiday visit and I managed to keep my less-than-gracious hostess-ness to a minimum (I think). I only barked a few times when my car was blocked in, or coffee and cookies were spilled on the floor, or... oh it's over with now, why dwell on it?
Christmas was very nice, although the Monster-in-Law played a few of her usual tricks, causing me to be the less-than-gracious daughter-in-law she knows so well. She was fairly grumpy by the end of the evening, but if you ask me, that was unjustified. She was the one who got to stretch out her legs in the front seat, recline her chair, and talk to her heart's content about everyone who has died, will soon die, and have lost all their money playing naked Twister. So what if we didn't all come in and pet her dog? Ok, so what if we didn't even want to roll down our windows to say goodbye...
Today was the day for the big swim team training trip departure. After practice, everyone loaded into vans and SUVs for the two hour drive up to the practice pools and the hotel. By dinnertime, Megan was not feeling well. Fingers are crossed. I hope she can feel better. We found out that the hosts of our party from the other night all came down with a stomach bug the very next day. Yikes. Luckily the poor chaperone is also a nurse. She gave Megan all sorts of various remedies. Hopefully, all are sleeping soundly now.
That is my main gripe. Also, the cat pee. The cat pee is popping up everywhere, and Puff. Is. In. Heat. Again. I made her appointment. She is being spayed on January 8. I can hardly wait, except that will mean it is almost my birthday; and I still won't have gotten a haircut. I forgot to cancel my appointment (another swim meet coming up), but I must. And I almost forgot to take the dog for her bath this morning. When I went to pick her up, I didn't even recognize her. Her face has gone so white that she looks like a blonde golden.
The other day, I was walking around and heard a flock of birds. I held my breath, but they kept on going. So I guess life goes on in New Jersey for now.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Merry Christmas from the Middle School
Progress reports arrived yesterday. I suppose I could say it is slightly better than last year's second marking period, when Brian was really in the midst of his middle school floundering. The science class, the one which he had been in danger of failing before we coached him to a 100% on the next test, says "pleasure to have in class." Well, that was the good news.
Of course, I don't know he did on last week's test in that class yet.
The other classes were perplexing. Most say 'homework quality needs improvement.' Spanish says that Brian is missing homework or assignments, but he is well prepared for class. Language Arts says 'come in for extra help.' Math says 'satisfactory progress' and social studies might as well say, "what is up with this lazy kid and why is he not doing the work he is so clearly capable of doing?"
So what do I do now? It is a full time job just managing this kid's education. All of the teachers, except for one, have websites where they post homework. I am always being told "I did it already," or "I don't have homework in that class." I created a form for him to fill in daily and return to me, and he is supposed to show mehis assignment pad every day. The form often falls by the wayside, and I tell myself, maybe he is turned around, let's see what the next grade report shows.
And so the next grade report has shown. I am at a loss. Upstairs, in a file, I have two forms from the neurologist, which, just last week I was thinking I might not use after all. I will dig them out as soon as the kids go back to school. These are assessments for ADD, which I don't actually think is the issue, but what do I know...at least it will be a starting point.
Many chiari children have cognitive issues, and I feel pretty sure this is part of it. But he is also young, and immature,and peer-pressured. The problem is that the peers who are pressuring seem to be able to handle all of this and school as well. Brian can excel with just minimal effort. The trouble lies in the fact that he is unwilling to put even minimal effort, and his studies are in such disarray that it's difficult for me to guide him.
I have read much about neuropsychological testing, and I hope to look into that. I did go so far as to leave a message for a woman who was recommended by a friend. In fact, we are going to that friend's house tonight, so I may ask again. , as the person never returned my call. Not such a good sign, though. I found another local guy by googling.
I'll see if the results of those questionnaires can get the neurologist to write us a referral. I'd better act quickly, because my threat is Catholic school, and I would need to make that sort of decision soon.
On a positive note, Megan's was wonderful as always, although it still listed her first marking period absences. All of the comments were positive, but fora straight A+ student, what else can they write?
Otherwise, that's all there is. Our houseguests have arrived and we are getting ready for Christmas. It's warm(ish) and rainy outside, not the best weather for Christmas.
Of course, I don't know he did on last week's test in that class yet.
The other classes were perplexing. Most say 'homework quality needs improvement.' Spanish says that Brian is missing homework or assignments, but he is well prepared for class. Language Arts says 'come in for extra help.' Math says 'satisfactory progress' and social studies might as well say, "what is up with this lazy kid and why is he not doing the work he is so clearly capable of doing?"
So what do I do now? It is a full time job just managing this kid's education. All of the teachers, except for one, have websites where they post homework. I am always being told "I did it already," or "I don't have homework in that class." I created a form for him to fill in daily and return to me, and he is supposed to show mehis assignment pad every day. The form often falls by the wayside, and I tell myself, maybe he is turned around, let's see what the next grade report shows.
And so the next grade report has shown. I am at a loss. Upstairs, in a file, I have two forms from the neurologist, which, just last week I was thinking I might not use after all. I will dig them out as soon as the kids go back to school. These are assessments for ADD, which I don't actually think is the issue, but what do I know...at least it will be a starting point.
Many chiari children have cognitive issues, and I feel pretty sure this is part of it. But he is also young, and immature,and peer-pressured. The problem is that the peers who are pressuring seem to be able to handle all of this and school as well. Brian can excel with just minimal effort. The trouble lies in the fact that he is unwilling to put even minimal effort, and his studies are in such disarray that it's difficult for me to guide him.
I have read much about neuropsychological testing, and I hope to look into that. I did go so far as to leave a message for a woman who was recommended by a friend. In fact, we are going to that friend's house tonight, so I may ask again. , as the person never returned my call. Not such a good sign, though. I found another local guy by googling.
I'll see if the results of those questionnaires can get the neurologist to write us a referral. I'd better act quickly, because my threat is Catholic school, and I would need to make that sort of decision soon.
On a positive note, Megan's was wonderful as always, although it still listed her first marking period absences. All of the comments were positive, but fora straight A+ student, what else can they write?
Otherwise, that's all there is. Our houseguests have arrived and we are getting ready for Christmas. It's warm(ish) and rainy outside, not the best weather for Christmas.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Friday Night Lights
Last night was so fun!!! It didn't start so well, we dropped Megan at the school at 7:30 and headed down to Wall for the 9pm swim meet, we were going to get something to eat first. We texted her to let us know when the bus got there and didn't hear from her for half an hour, so we called. There was a mixup with the bus company, and they hadn't sent a bus at all!
So I hopped back on the parkway and headed towards the school, in case no bus came. However, I was truly impressed when, at 8:15, they told the kids that a bus was on its way. So I got off the parkway and turned around again. $0.35 repeatedly starts to add up. Jon Corzine should be very happy today.
At the pool, one of the other parents came back and said, "they said the other team has NOTHING." So we were joking around, and said, "we heard that, too."
Well, I am afraid our team proved them more or less right, except for Megan and her one friend, who won everything they swam. But they would win, the other team would get 2, 3 and 4, and our other two entries - if they came to the blocks in time - would get 5th and 6th, with a few exceptions who might have taken third insome events. I don't know what the final score was, but it wasn't pretty.
Anyway, in the last relay, which is a 400 free, Megan and her friend were swimming third and fourth. I have no idea who went first and second, but they were so far behind. Her friend went and made up some ground. Perhaps our team was in last place, I don't even know. We were far behind. When Megan got in the pool she was at least a full length (25 meters) behind the girl in second place. First place was about a lap and a half ahead.
Megan dove in and lit up the whole pool!! She closed in on the girl, lap after lap. The girl, totally unaware that this was even possible, plodded on and on throughout her hundreds. Somewhere during the third lap, the crowd could see that it was going to be possible, and they started to go crazy. First place was too far ahead, they were already finishing, but just before the last turn, Megan caught the second place girl. You could tell when that girl realized it and tried to turn it on, and they raced neck and neck into the finish. It was so exciting!! But Megan touched first, and South got second place!! It was more exciting than if we had won the meet. She said she was so mad, they weren't doing anything, but they were beating us. So she went super fast.
As we left and I passed those other parents, I said to them, "well, I guess you were right. But that was my daughter!!!"
:P
So I hopped back on the parkway and headed towards the school, in case no bus came. However, I was truly impressed when, at 8:15, they told the kids that a bus was on its way. So I got off the parkway and turned around again. $0.35 repeatedly starts to add up. Jon Corzine should be very happy today.
At the pool, one of the other parents came back and said, "they said the other team has NOTHING." So we were joking around, and said, "we heard that, too."
Well, I am afraid our team proved them more or less right, except for Megan and her one friend, who won everything they swam. But they would win, the other team would get 2, 3 and 4, and our other two entries - if they came to the blocks in time - would get 5th and 6th, with a few exceptions who might have taken third insome events. I don't know what the final score was, but it wasn't pretty.
Anyway, in the last relay, which is a 400 free, Megan and her friend were swimming third and fourth. I have no idea who went first and second, but they were so far behind. Her friend went and made up some ground. Perhaps our team was in last place, I don't even know. We were far behind. When Megan got in the pool she was at least a full length (25 meters) behind the girl in second place. First place was about a lap and a half ahead.
Megan dove in and lit up the whole pool!! She closed in on the girl, lap after lap. The girl, totally unaware that this was even possible, plodded on and on throughout her hundreds. Somewhere during the third lap, the crowd could see that it was going to be possible, and they started to go crazy. First place was too far ahead, they were already finishing, but just before the last turn, Megan caught the second place girl. You could tell when that girl realized it and tried to turn it on, and they raced neck and neck into the finish. It was so exciting!! But Megan touched first, and South got second place!! It was more exciting than if we had won the meet. She said she was so mad, they weren't doing anything, but they were beating us. So she went super fast.
As we left and I passed those other parents, I said to them, "well, I guess you were right. But that was my daughter!!!"
:P
Friday, December 21, 2007
Everything is Coming up Sixes
Two days ago I got in my car at Acme and glanced at my mileage: 66600. (!)
I tried to drive as fast as I could to get a 1 to pop up at the end. Then last night, after I picked Megan up at the church meeting, I glanced down again: 66660! By the time we got home, it was at 66666. I never take note of the numbers on my odometer. This just made me feel like I am being haunted by demons.
I received my reply back from the priest, and he accepted my compromise. I felt so good about it, until I realized that I have just signed my daughter up to starve herself from 10 PM Friday through 6:30 PM Saturday. and, to make matters worse, since there has been a choice offered to the group, no participant in their right mind is going to choose 30 hours of fasting over volunteering at the soup kitchen and then hanging out talking about it all afternoon. So I don't even know who else will participate in this fast anyway. I can't help feeling that I've been duped.
Then I got a sub call last night and had to turn it down. I absolutely hate turning them down, but I knew if I worked, even for the morning, that there would be no way that I would get a thing done towards making this house even somewhat presentable. There are stacks everywhere, pet hair everywhere, and just general dirt. I also have to pack up the boxes of Christmas things, and get them out of the basement area for our houseguests. And I have to clean the basement bathroom, which hasn't been done properly since the sump pit backed up through the tub drain a year ago. I've cleaned out the toilet and wiped things down, but even that's not been done since August.
But for now, I have to get Megan to school. Brian is harassing me about his chorus uniform, I guess today is the school show. And I have to get my banking ready, since I am allowing myself just the one trip out of the house this morning before I start to clean. And the stair vacuum is broken. Blame it all on the sixes.
I tried to drive as fast as I could to get a 1 to pop up at the end. Then last night, after I picked Megan up at the church meeting, I glanced down again: 66660! By the time we got home, it was at 66666. I never take note of the numbers on my odometer. This just made me feel like I am being haunted by demons.
I received my reply back from the priest, and he accepted my compromise. I felt so good about it, until I realized that I have just signed my daughter up to starve herself from 10 PM Friday through 6:30 PM Saturday. and, to make matters worse, since there has been a choice offered to the group, no participant in their right mind is going to choose 30 hours of fasting over volunteering at the soup kitchen and then hanging out talking about it all afternoon. So I don't even know who else will participate in this fast anyway. I can't help feeling that I've been duped.
Then I got a sub call last night and had to turn it down. I absolutely hate turning them down, but I knew if I worked, even for the morning, that there would be no way that I would get a thing done towards making this house even somewhat presentable. There are stacks everywhere, pet hair everywhere, and just general dirt. I also have to pack up the boxes of Christmas things, and get them out of the basement area for our houseguests. And I have to clean the basement bathroom, which hasn't been done properly since the sump pit backed up through the tub drain a year ago. I've cleaned out the toilet and wiped things down, but even that's not been done since August.
But for now, I have to get Megan to school. Brian is harassing me about his chorus uniform, I guess today is the school show. And I have to get my banking ready, since I am allowing myself just the one trip out of the house this morning before I start to clean. And the stair vacuum is broken. Blame it all on the sixes.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Merry Mayhem
Well, the cold sore is gone, it lasted about six days but it was never visible like usual, only I could feel it. I'll just keep using the cream if I get another one, without risking the dizziness and mood swings of that other drug.
Molly still needs her lampshade, and Puff is no longer in heat, so she is being very cute and friendly (to me)and making me feel bad about having to take her in for her spay surgery. I have to make that appointment next week, when Molly goes for her bath. Hopefully she can stay out of heat long enough to get it done the first week in January.
So I just came out of a three day work stint, after three days of the swim meet up at Rutgers. The weather was questionable, so we split the weekend between home and a hotel, which was a good thing. Megan swam pretty well, she got a best time every time she swam, if even by .01. Then she had to come back for finals in a few events. So that was exciting.
For some reason, her high school coach was unaware of a meet they were supposed to have on Tuesday. So they ended up rescheduling it for Wednesday, which meant that I had to reschedule her confirmation make-up (for what she missed for the other meet) for Thursday, which means she has to miss her Y practice, which she also has to miss on Friday for another high school meet!!! It's major mayhem and I can't even stand it. So she won't swim with her real team for nearly a week by the time she gets back in for Saturday practice.
Of course, right after that, the Y takes her away for the four day training trip to another state, in the middle of our family holiday.
And on top of this, we still have not resolved the issue of the 30 hour fast. I googled some other area churches and other churches' requirements for confirmation. Most will give a selection and require that most be met. Others will include a choice of several retreats, and some do just one class. Most seem to mention community service, of which our church does none. They added on a quick day at the soup kitchen, to which I plan to send Megan before the county swim meet.
If the church is going to deny her confirmation because we don't want her to fast for 30 hours two weeks before her Y state championship, at which she is trying to make national cuts, then we have to seriously consider whether or not we belong in that church at all. I'll offer for her to do the sleepover and skip breakfast and lunch on Saturday, which is a lot for her anyway. Plus the soup kitchen, which is half of the other day, the one she can't make.
In the end, she is putting forth the greatest effort possible, and we are trying to be flexible. Since I feel that is the church staff that has set these requirements, and not actually God per se, if they do insist that she must do this fast without any compromise, I'm afraid I will have such a bad feeling that I will have to consider searching for another church. They are offering no "home schooling" type of makeup for the fast, no alternative other than these two dates, one of which conflicts with the country meet.
I've been getting emails from them begging the congregation to please return their pledge cards, and apparently finances are tight. Although I can never repay the kindness of the pastor when Brian had his brain surgery, I'm afraid that this just isn't the kind of church I would want to be a part of, and wonder if that is perhaps some of the reason behind the difficulty in getting pledges back. Strength in pastoral services doesn't always balance out the atmosphere within the church; and that's what you have to deal with day to day.
So now I am off to try to tie up loose ends of shopping today and loose ends of cleaning tomorrow before the onlsaught of our holiday guests (at which time we may not see Puff again for days). A particularly strenuous litterbox changing activity has left me feeling a little shaky, so I sat down to let that wear off before I shower and hit the mobs. I hope the mobs are still asleep.
Oh, and maybe I'll put up some Christmas lights outside. Or maybe not. It is almost time to take them down already.
Molly still needs her lampshade, and Puff is no longer in heat, so she is being very cute and friendly (to me)and making me feel bad about having to take her in for her spay surgery. I have to make that appointment next week, when Molly goes for her bath. Hopefully she can stay out of heat long enough to get it done the first week in January.
So I just came out of a three day work stint, after three days of the swim meet up at Rutgers. The weather was questionable, so we split the weekend between home and a hotel, which was a good thing. Megan swam pretty well, she got a best time every time she swam, if even by .01. Then she had to come back for finals in a few events. So that was exciting.
For some reason, her high school coach was unaware of a meet they were supposed to have on Tuesday. So they ended up rescheduling it for Wednesday, which meant that I had to reschedule her confirmation make-up (for what she missed for the other meet) for Thursday, which means she has to miss her Y practice, which she also has to miss on Friday for another high school meet!!! It's major mayhem and I can't even stand it. So she won't swim with her real team for nearly a week by the time she gets back in for Saturday practice.
Of course, right after that, the Y takes her away for the four day training trip to another state, in the middle of our family holiday.
And on top of this, we still have not resolved the issue of the 30 hour fast. I googled some other area churches and other churches' requirements for confirmation. Most will give a selection and require that most be met. Others will include a choice of several retreats, and some do just one class. Most seem to mention community service, of which our church does none. They added on a quick day at the soup kitchen, to which I plan to send Megan before the county swim meet.
If the church is going to deny her confirmation because we don't want her to fast for 30 hours two weeks before her Y state championship, at which she is trying to make national cuts, then we have to seriously consider whether or not we belong in that church at all. I'll offer for her to do the sleepover and skip breakfast and lunch on Saturday, which is a lot for her anyway. Plus the soup kitchen, which is half of the other day, the one she can't make.
In the end, she is putting forth the greatest effort possible, and we are trying to be flexible. Since I feel that is the church staff that has set these requirements, and not actually God per se, if they do insist that she must do this fast without any compromise, I'm afraid I will have such a bad feeling that I will have to consider searching for another church. They are offering no "home schooling" type of makeup for the fast, no alternative other than these two dates, one of which conflicts with the country meet.
I've been getting emails from them begging the congregation to please return their pledge cards, and apparently finances are tight. Although I can never repay the kindness of the pastor when Brian had his brain surgery, I'm afraid that this just isn't the kind of church I would want to be a part of, and wonder if that is perhaps some of the reason behind the difficulty in getting pledges back. Strength in pastoral services doesn't always balance out the atmosphere within the church; and that's what you have to deal with day to day.
So now I am off to try to tie up loose ends of shopping today and loose ends of cleaning tomorrow before the onlsaught of our holiday guests (at which time we may not see Puff again for days). A particularly strenuous litterbox changing activity has left me feeling a little shaky, so I sat down to let that wear off before I shower and hit the mobs. I hope the mobs are still asleep.
Oh, and maybe I'll put up some Christmas lights outside. Or maybe not. It is almost time to take them down already.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Sipping Wine Through a Straw
I hate those mornings when I get out of bed and my lip stings. Then I feel that little lump, almost barely there, but for sure it won't be going away anytime soon. My emergency treament protocol of peroxide and campho-phenique, when implemented immediately, seems to help and has even aborted attacks. But today? No. Today, I had to go have a filling replaced.
The good thing about that would be that dentists can prescribe drugs to treat cold sores, and mine was glad to do so. However, I picked it up and the pharmacist said that the side effects are dizziness and drowsiness! I can't drive around with those side effects! Then I see there are many more "highly unlikely" side effects. And I also read that you should only take this medication for one day when taking it for a cold sore. My bottle says take it for five! And I opened it and looked at the pill. It's the size of a ... of a ... I'll think of something. It's BIG.
So I have decided not to take it. The thing is that at least he also gave me a topical cream, and that seems to be maybe helping a little. Except that my lower lip is all ripped up from the dental abuse it took during the procedure. God, I hate the dentist.
After that ordeal, I ran around for hours trying to get shopping done just in case I work for the rest of the holiday season. Who in the world can stand Hollister? Why is that store so popular? You can't see a thing, the music is deafening, and I think there surely must be a MAXIMUM requirement on the IQ's of the workers. Add to that that all the clothing implies that you either live in, or frequently visit, Southern California. My children don't know what Malibu is. They have never seen the Pacific Ocean. I ended up saving $30 at American Eagle though! Of course, I had to spend $200 to do that. But at least the clothes look like they belong on the east coast.
And I have been spared my driving shift tonight for swim team. Megan is sniffling, she seems like she will never get better; probably needs to have it treated with something, but I don't want to put her on anything before this big meet. Surely she can't be at peak performance when she can't breathe, but she's done it before. Sigh. At least she has officially backed herself out of all high school swimming for this week. Her next high school meet will be December 21.
In other news, Molly is chewing on her foot and has to wear her lampshade. But the biggest of all: Puff is being spayed on Wednesday!! I'll drop her off on my way to work, and pick her up in the evening. The girl tried to tell me she has to be out of heat for six weeks or she can' be spayed. I felt like saying, "excuse me? Have you ever MET a cat who has not been spayed?" It's like Puff is in heat more than she's out, and she's only just six months old.
But...I don't have a headache today!!!
The good thing about that would be that dentists can prescribe drugs to treat cold sores, and mine was glad to do so. However, I picked it up and the pharmacist said that the side effects are dizziness and drowsiness! I can't drive around with those side effects! Then I see there are many more "highly unlikely" side effects. And I also read that you should only take this medication for one day when taking it for a cold sore. My bottle says take it for five! And I opened it and looked at the pill. It's the size of a ... of a ... I'll think of something. It's BIG.
So I have decided not to take it. The thing is that at least he also gave me a topical cream, and that seems to be maybe helping a little. Except that my lower lip is all ripped up from the dental abuse it took during the procedure. God, I hate the dentist.
After that ordeal, I ran around for hours trying to get shopping done just in case I work for the rest of the holiday season. Who in the world can stand Hollister? Why is that store so popular? You can't see a thing, the music is deafening, and I think there surely must be a MAXIMUM requirement on the IQ's of the workers. Add to that that all the clothing implies that you either live in, or frequently visit, Southern California. My children don't know what Malibu is. They have never seen the Pacific Ocean. I ended up saving $30 at American Eagle though! Of course, I had to spend $200 to do that. But at least the clothes look like they belong on the east coast.
And I have been spared my driving shift tonight for swim team. Megan is sniffling, she seems like she will never get better; probably needs to have it treated with something, but I don't want to put her on anything before this big meet. Surely she can't be at peak performance when she can't breathe, but she's done it before. Sigh. At least she has officially backed herself out of all high school swimming for this week. Her next high school meet will be December 21.
In other news, Molly is chewing on her foot and has to wear her lampshade. But the biggest of all: Puff is being spayed on Wednesday!! I'll drop her off on my way to work, and pick her up in the evening. The girl tried to tell me she has to be out of heat for six weeks or she can' be spayed. I felt like saying, "excuse me? Have you ever MET a cat who has not been spayed?" It's like Puff is in heat more than she's out, and she's only just six months old.
But...I don't have a headache today!!!
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Whine Whine...Wine?
So I guess the thing is that my head is always going to hurt. I went out and bought some sudafed yesterday and had to show my drivers license. I couldn't even remember if it's that I can make bombs or street drugs, and I had to fill out all my information on a spiral notebook of forms. Now I see it's crystal meth. If nothing else, maybe when the sudafed doesn't cure my congestion, I can make that; and then I won't really care if my head hurts or not. And then I found I actually had some sudafed from years ago, actually bought without the federal government knowing about it.
So I spent the entire night sleeping with a wet washcloth on my head or neck, and then I awoke in a daze. It was already after 8, and I had to get up to be a greeter at church. So, they have five ushers and three greeters. It's a wonder people don't just turn and run in a panic to one of the other churches down the street. And you have five people all trying to give you bulletins, whose do you take? Although I may have been mistaken in trying to hand them out. Perhaps it is not the job of the greeter to give out the bulletins. I wouldn't know, because I never received the packet with the information.
Today I have been abandoned. Everyone has left me, either for the NY Jets or for the mall. On my home I picked up the makings of meatballs and sauce, and an $80 Christmas tree. I remember when we spent $40 and dragged the thing up the stairs in Queens. That was a lot to spend. Now, $80 without a second thought. At least I had the sense not to buy the Noble Fir at $110. Not that I didn't consider it. That tree had a beautiful shape.
Since I am abandoned, I had to get the tree in the house by myself. I had to get it off the roof of the Explorer, and then haul it up the five or so steps. This might sound not so bad, but each time I tried to put weight on the bad knee, it threatened to render me immobile again. I had to do this in plain view of anyone who might be passing by. There was a young guy in army fatigues across the street. Vanity stopped me from going across the street and saying, you look like a good citizen. Wanna carry a Christmas tree?
But I got the tree in the house, and in the stand! I even had to cut about 8 inches off the tip to keep it from bending over. In our old house we had a cathedral ceiling. I forget that in this new, giant house, I am limited in my choice of tree.
So, here I sit, with bags of meats and pasta waiting to be cooked. The sudafed is helping, but I am waiting for the advil to kick in. It's already 2:23 and I need several hours to simmer the sauce. Megan should be home soon, but then she will complain that there is no food. This being the week before Holiday Classic, she will have to be well fed and rested, and I will have to be nice to her. I am still awaiting a return email from her high school coach. I finally just emailed him and explained her quandary, that she thought a time warp would occur and the conflicts between high school and club swimming would resolve themselves. This week will show how that plays out.
Finally, there is Puff. She seems to be peeing around the house. I locked her in the bathroom with a litterbox until she finally dumped her little pearls in there. The vet called and it's all clear. As soon as she stops flirting with the uninterested hermaphrodite boys in our house, she's in for her surgery. I really wanted to wait until after Christmas, but this is just ridiculous. I don't know how cats stand it. Six months old and in her third heat cycle already? People who don't spay their cats must be out of their minds.
Well, that about winds it up for me. The whines and the other whines. The problem is, I am absolutely terrified to have my wine while I'm on the sudafed! I mean, I really don't know, but what if that is the other ingredient for the methampethamine? It could be. Or maybe that would not be so bad. I'm off to the kitchen.
So I spent the entire night sleeping with a wet washcloth on my head or neck, and then I awoke in a daze. It was already after 8, and I had to get up to be a greeter at church. So, they have five ushers and three greeters. It's a wonder people don't just turn and run in a panic to one of the other churches down the street. And you have five people all trying to give you bulletins, whose do you take? Although I may have been mistaken in trying to hand them out. Perhaps it is not the job of the greeter to give out the bulletins. I wouldn't know, because I never received the packet with the information.
Today I have been abandoned. Everyone has left me, either for the NY Jets or for the mall. On my home I picked up the makings of meatballs and sauce, and an $80 Christmas tree. I remember when we spent $40 and dragged the thing up the stairs in Queens. That was a lot to spend. Now, $80 without a second thought. At least I had the sense not to buy the Noble Fir at $110. Not that I didn't consider it. That tree had a beautiful shape.
Since I am abandoned, I had to get the tree in the house by myself. I had to get it off the roof of the Explorer, and then haul it up the five or so steps. This might sound not so bad, but each time I tried to put weight on the bad knee, it threatened to render me immobile again. I had to do this in plain view of anyone who might be passing by. There was a young guy in army fatigues across the street. Vanity stopped me from going across the street and saying, you look like a good citizen. Wanna carry a Christmas tree?
But I got the tree in the house, and in the stand! I even had to cut about 8 inches off the tip to keep it from bending over. In our old house we had a cathedral ceiling. I forget that in this new, giant house, I am limited in my choice of tree.
So, here I sit, with bags of meats and pasta waiting to be cooked. The sudafed is helping, but I am waiting for the advil to kick in. It's already 2:23 and I need several hours to simmer the sauce. Megan should be home soon, but then she will complain that there is no food. This being the week before Holiday Classic, she will have to be well fed and rested, and I will have to be nice to her. I am still awaiting a return email from her high school coach. I finally just emailed him and explained her quandary, that she thought a time warp would occur and the conflicts between high school and club swimming would resolve themselves. This week will show how that plays out.
Finally, there is Puff. She seems to be peeing around the house. I locked her in the bathroom with a litterbox until she finally dumped her little pearls in there. The vet called and it's all clear. As soon as she stops flirting with the uninterested hermaphrodite boys in our house, she's in for her surgery. I really wanted to wait until after Christmas, but this is just ridiculous. I don't know how cats stand it. Six months old and in her third heat cycle already? People who don't spay their cats must be out of their minds.
Well, that about winds it up for me. The whines and the other whines. The problem is, I am absolutely terrified to have my wine while I'm on the sudafed! I mean, I really don't know, but what if that is the other ingredient for the methampethamine? It could be. Or maybe that would not be so bad. I'm off to the kitchen.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Lingering Headaches
I guess the stresses are surpassing my power to ignore them, because I was unable to contain the headache to one day. I turned down a sub call and tried to stay in bed.
I just have daily gripes that I chose to blog.
1. Molly is leaking. She leaks mainly in her dog bed (I think) but weeks ago, I remember she was leaking by her water dish. A major expense and a step down the road to demise, I don't want to rush into the vet; particularly because of Gripe #2.
2. Puff peed on the dog bed. I was able to wash it with Molly's dribble but I saw Puff showing interest in it, and folded it in half. A few minutes later, in the midst of a hot debate on Divorce Court on whether or not a woman should be paid $400 a month by her husband for doing housework, I heard scratching. Puff had peed on the back side! So, I threw it out.
I consider it unsalvageable once a cat empties a full load onto there. Minorly in her defense, she is in heat AGAIN. I am finally able to take a stool sample to be rechecked for worms. Once she is rid of them, she can be spayed. They don't do it until she is six months old, which seems a little rough, since she seems to be in heat every 2-3 weeks. This will be her third time. It's very irritating, even without the peeing around. But she is now, at last, at the magic age of six months. I was trying to hold off until after the holidays ... but after that -- don't think so.
3. Swimming conflicts. That gripe just speaks for itself.
4. Groups that you belong to who feel like they should choose adopt-a-families after you have already adopted children for the season. The church group is adopting a large family, and they are not rationing out the gifts in an organized manner. I can hardly wait to see how this turns out. It may extend my time in purgatory, at the very least.
Anyway, those are about all the gripes I have time for. Since I spent the day nursing my headache, I feel very gripey. Now I am off to try to breach security at the army base, so I can commit the heinous act of watching my very first high school swim meet.
I just have daily gripes that I chose to blog.
1. Molly is leaking. She leaks mainly in her dog bed (I think) but weeks ago, I remember she was leaking by her water dish. A major expense and a step down the road to demise, I don't want to rush into the vet; particularly because of Gripe #2.
2. Puff peed on the dog bed. I was able to wash it with Molly's dribble but I saw Puff showing interest in it, and folded it in half. A few minutes later, in the midst of a hot debate on Divorce Court on whether or not a woman should be paid $400 a month by her husband for doing housework, I heard scratching. Puff had peed on the back side! So, I threw it out.
I consider it unsalvageable once a cat empties a full load onto there. Minorly in her defense, she is in heat AGAIN. I am finally able to take a stool sample to be rechecked for worms. Once she is rid of them, she can be spayed. They don't do it until she is six months old, which seems a little rough, since she seems to be in heat every 2-3 weeks. This will be her third time. It's very irritating, even without the peeing around. But she is now, at last, at the magic age of six months. I was trying to hold off until after the holidays ... but after that -- don't think so.
3. Swimming conflicts. That gripe just speaks for itself.
4. Groups that you belong to who feel like they should choose adopt-a-families after you have already adopted children for the season. The church group is adopting a large family, and they are not rationing out the gifts in an organized manner. I can hardly wait to see how this turns out. It may extend my time in purgatory, at the very least.
Anyway, those are about all the gripes I have time for. Since I spent the day nursing my headache, I feel very gripey. Now I am off to try to breach security at the army base, so I can commit the heinous act of watching my very first high school swim meet.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
My Head Hurts
No sub calls today. I had the day off.
I decided to start it off with a swim. That actually went pretty well, I had a lane all to myself for the whole 25 minutes that it takes me to swim a measly 40 laps these days. On the way out, I noticed that they had a "giving tree" set up at the Y. I studied the remaining tags and chose two little girls. One only wanted Bratz dolls, but the other was very specific: a monopoly game, a hooded sweatshirt, and Nike sneakers. Woah! Anyway, my credit card was reset to $0 as of today, so why not.
(Sure, it's only ONE credit card that's at $0, the others are probably considerably more, but I hope to have them all paid down by the time I stop getting paychecks again in June!)
But by now my head was really hurting. Some online Bratz shopping hadn't helped what the 40 laps had somehow started. Maybe it was the leaky goggles. I had to take some advil and lie down for an hour. I watched How Clean is Your House and You Are What You Eat. Who in the world signs up for those shows? All I would need would be for my mold and dust to be filmed for national television. And then to have to keep the house clean until the "surprise visit" from the British ladies who helped clean it in the first place.
Eventually I managed to drag myself up and shower. I went out into the snow and searched high and low for Nike sneakers and a hoodie sweatshirt, which I finally did find. The little girls should be very happy.
Afterwards, I faced the true source of my headache: church. They are requiring that Megan must satisfy one requirement for her confirmation in April. She must either attend a retreat on the day of her high school regional championship meet, or she must fast for 30 hours over President's weekend. This is in addition to the four hour meetings once a month + homework. I can feel the holy spirit fading from her person as I type this. If you may not worship any God but the true God, then I am afraid we will have to count her out. Her god? Her swim team coach.
Although, that is not entirelly true, because she will not even be swimming for him on the day of the retreat. Will God really close her out of heaven because she went to the conference meet? That doesn't really seem fair, when she is usually very nice to everyone, and she even serves at church when she can be there. Does her very salvation ride on her refusing herself food during the peak training period for her championship swim season? How scary is that?! Whatever happened to "God is Good! All the Time!"
And did God say she had to do these things? Was it through His wishes that the schedules were made up for these events? Don't the homeless people have to be fed every day? Why, then, is it that she must be there on February 9th?
In fact, she is at swimming now. She should be back soon, but one never knows. It's her day off from swimming, so she was able to go to the high school practice. The first meet is tomorrow, but the parents can't attend. They're holding it under top security. Ah, the folly.
I decided to start it off with a swim. That actually went pretty well, I had a lane all to myself for the whole 25 minutes that it takes me to swim a measly 40 laps these days. On the way out, I noticed that they had a "giving tree" set up at the Y. I studied the remaining tags and chose two little girls. One only wanted Bratz dolls, but the other was very specific: a monopoly game, a hooded sweatshirt, and Nike sneakers. Woah! Anyway, my credit card was reset to $0 as of today, so why not.
(Sure, it's only ONE credit card that's at $0, the others are probably considerably more, but I hope to have them all paid down by the time I stop getting paychecks again in June!)
But by now my head was really hurting. Some online Bratz shopping hadn't helped what the 40 laps had somehow started. Maybe it was the leaky goggles. I had to take some advil and lie down for an hour. I watched How Clean is Your House and You Are What You Eat. Who in the world signs up for those shows? All I would need would be for my mold and dust to be filmed for national television. And then to have to keep the house clean until the "surprise visit" from the British ladies who helped clean it in the first place.
Eventually I managed to drag myself up and shower. I went out into the snow and searched high and low for Nike sneakers and a hoodie sweatshirt, which I finally did find. The little girls should be very happy.
Afterwards, I faced the true source of my headache: church. They are requiring that Megan must satisfy one requirement for her confirmation in April. She must either attend a retreat on the day of her high school regional championship meet, or she must fast for 30 hours over President's weekend. This is in addition to the four hour meetings once a month + homework. I can feel the holy spirit fading from her person as I type this. If you may not worship any God but the true God, then I am afraid we will have to count her out. Her god? Her swim team coach.
Although, that is not entirelly true, because she will not even be swimming for him on the day of the retreat. Will God really close her out of heaven because she went to the conference meet? That doesn't really seem fair, when she is usually very nice to everyone, and she even serves at church when she can be there. Does her very salvation ride on her refusing herself food during the peak training period for her championship swim season? How scary is that?! Whatever happened to "God is Good! All the Time!"
And did God say she had to do these things? Was it through His wishes that the schedules were made up for these events? Don't the homeless people have to be fed every day? Why, then, is it that she must be there on February 9th?
In fact, she is at swimming now. She should be back soon, but one never knows. It's her day off from swimming, so she was able to go to the high school practice. The first meet is tomorrow, but the parents can't attend. They're holding it under top security. Ah, the folly.
Monday, December 3, 2007
I Don't Like Monday
I don't like this Monday. I thought I had the day free; I was trying to finish up a nice dream in the early morning, when the shriek of the phone came through the fog. Of course there was no phone in its cradle, so I had to stagger around the house in search of one. Luckily, my knees, ankles, and plantar fascia all were in agreement this morning, and I was able to walk.
I missed the call and tried to return it, but dialed the wrong exchange. I should have known when I had to unblock my private number to call the sub caller that something was wrong, but it wasn't until the groggy voice of some poor woman came on the other end that I fully realized the error of my ways. But in the end, I got the job.
I showed up to find that the teacher didn't know she was going to be out. She left a lot of busy work, and there were many breaks - the first day of library, their art class, lunch, and an assembly. It seemed like a really easy day. Note to self: never believe that.
On the way to library, we got in trouble from the Principal for talking in the halls. The nurse took kids two at a time to screen them. Everyone acted like they didn't know what they were supposed to do for the assignment that was written as if they'd all know exactly what to do. But the morning was fairly ok.
After lunch we had to do a Scholastic News (formerly known as Weekly Reader) on the new seven wonders of the world. People voted on them, and I had never heard of most of them. The Great Wall of China is one, and the Taj Mahal is another. During this time, the students began their rebellion. ADHD reared its head, and one girl put her head down and went to sleep on her desk. Thankfully it was time for the assembly. Which was an experience.
The man running the show was exactly like John Belushi. His show involved a lot of dry ice steam demonstrations and a lot of screaming and running around the room. He was definitely the right man for the job, but part of the allure was the amazement of watching him. He was sweating bullets within minutes. He had the kids up and screaming half the time, and then they had to calm back down, and come back to do math.
Because of this, I am not getting up from the couch, hence this update. Tomorrow I am working in the morning. I'll float for the child study team meetings, so I can't have this class again. It's funny how on the days when I feel like I have screwed up the most, the kids ask me if I will be back tomorrow, and write "You rock!" on the board.
I missed the call and tried to return it, but dialed the wrong exchange. I should have known when I had to unblock my private number to call the sub caller that something was wrong, but it wasn't until the groggy voice of some poor woman came on the other end that I fully realized the error of my ways. But in the end, I got the job.
I showed up to find that the teacher didn't know she was going to be out. She left a lot of busy work, and there were many breaks - the first day of library, their art class, lunch, and an assembly. It seemed like a really easy day. Note to self: never believe that.
On the way to library, we got in trouble from the Principal for talking in the halls. The nurse took kids two at a time to screen them. Everyone acted like they didn't know what they were supposed to do for the assignment that was written as if they'd all know exactly what to do. But the morning was fairly ok.
After lunch we had to do a Scholastic News (formerly known as Weekly Reader) on the new seven wonders of the world. People voted on them, and I had never heard of most of them. The Great Wall of China is one, and the Taj Mahal is another. During this time, the students began their rebellion. ADHD reared its head, and one girl put her head down and went to sleep on her desk. Thankfully it was time for the assembly. Which was an experience.
The man running the show was exactly like John Belushi. His show involved a lot of dry ice steam demonstrations and a lot of screaming and running around the room. He was definitely the right man for the job, but part of the allure was the amazement of watching him. He was sweating bullets within minutes. He had the kids up and screaming half the time, and then they had to calm back down, and come back to do math.
Because of this, I am not getting up from the couch, hence this update. Tomorrow I am working in the morning. I'll float for the child study team meetings, so I can't have this class again. It's funny how on the days when I feel like I have screwed up the most, the kids ask me if I will be back tomorrow, and write "You rock!" on the board.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
First Snow!
It snowed today! We have a winter wonderland. It's a little hindered in appearance by the piles of leaves that have yet to be picked up, but it is a white world nonetheless, very serene looking. I think tonight is probably the town tree lighting, since we're going to the church spaghetti dinner; and they always coincide.
I've been avoiding going back outside since I am developing the terrible fear of the holiday shoppers. I must go get cat food and some other things, and my heart speeds up at the thought of the parking lot at Target. Yesterday I drove about 100 miles on the highway with trucks and psychopaths. By the time I got home, I really needed a shot of valium or perhaps even morphine.
I was reading a post on one of the message board where a guy tells how he was harassed by an aggressive motorist. the guy came up behind him, flashing his lights and honking. So the narrator chose to slow down, to be annoying. The pursuer then went to the right lane to pass, at which point our "victim" sped up again!! As is the case so often these days, the end result was physical. The two cars pulled over, and the pursuer slugged our victim.
The message board is one for chiari sufferers, so this guy had chiari. He got the guy's license plate number, and filed a police report. The tone of his post is such that he was wronged on the highway. As in the case of the agitated seventh grader who took a cheap swing at the wiseguy - the aggressive driver was obviously not a model citizen. However - not one person has posted in reply - "what the hell were you thinking? Did you not expect that this might be a likely outcome of toying with an obviously deranged driver?!" I have reread that thread many times and can't believe nobody has said one word of reprimand to the victim.
And I'm not going to be the first one to do it!! But now I must escape because I hear that Brian is not doing well with his learning of the lessons - maybe I'll just find a back road to Target right now.
I've been avoiding going back outside since I am developing the terrible fear of the holiday shoppers. I must go get cat food and some other things, and my heart speeds up at the thought of the parking lot at Target. Yesterday I drove about 100 miles on the highway with trucks and psychopaths. By the time I got home, I really needed a shot of valium or perhaps even morphine.
I was reading a post on one of the message board where a guy tells how he was harassed by an aggressive motorist. the guy came up behind him, flashing his lights and honking. So the narrator chose to slow down, to be annoying. The pursuer then went to the right lane to pass, at which point our "victim" sped up again!! As is the case so often these days, the end result was physical. The two cars pulled over, and the pursuer slugged our victim.
The message board is one for chiari sufferers, so this guy had chiari. He got the guy's license plate number, and filed a police report. The tone of his post is such that he was wronged on the highway. As in the case of the agitated seventh grader who took a cheap swing at the wiseguy - the aggressive driver was obviously not a model citizen. However - not one person has posted in reply - "what the hell were you thinking? Did you not expect that this might be a likely outcome of toying with an obviously deranged driver?!" I have reread that thread many times and can't believe nobody has said one word of reprimand to the victim.
And I'm not going to be the first one to do it!! But now I must escape because I hear that Brian is not doing well with his learning of the lessons - maybe I'll just find a back road to Target right now.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Three Years
Three years ago tonight, I was oblivious. Well, I shouldn't say oblivious, but I certainly never knew how the next day would change our lives. I was a little concerned, since the neurologist appointment I had made for Brian was being rescheduled at the last minute, and my friend Jocelyne kept telling me December 1 is a bad luck day. But still. I was oblivious. What, me worry?
So the appointment changed everything ... Arnold Chiari and Syrinx are now household words for our family. My own vocabulary has grown tremendously, to inlude such terms as tethered spinal cord, pseudotumor cerebri, foramen magnum, and dura mater. Words that three years ago I would have shivered at the mere mention of one syllable. Now I read the message boards almost daily, trying to be sure the rug is never pulled out from under me again.
Surely, there were good experiences with the bad. We met many smart and world reknowned neurosurgeons. They took my calls, and called me back on weekends! The weeks after the surgery were strangely serene; with our family sort of all holed up in the house as if there were no world going on outside. Under different circumstances, it would have been beautiful. We played mancala, Sorry, Parcheesi, BusyTown, checkers, and (God help us) Pokemon Stadium for countless hours. We watched movies. We sat around.
But mainly, I worried. I worried beginning December 1st. I will never forget the date or the words, " I am not worried about (insert reason for visit), but I am very worried about (insert new symptoms, of which previously blissfully unaware)" nor will I forget "he needs an MRI of his brain, and an MRI of his c'spine" (c-what? oh yeah, that's another part of my new vocabulary, along with t-spine, lumbar, and medulla)
So the worrying began December 1st. After the MRI it did abate briefly. Only until I found out that the doctor had not called back not because it was normal, but because he wanted to see for himself the abnormal. And when he did return my call, again there were words I will never forget, "both of the things I was looking for ... (I swear he paused for effect) ... appear to be there."
This was several days after December 1, but I don't recall any dates other than December 1 for that part of the story. The month of December runs together. I remember we left the neurologist, and we went to the mall. Brian sat on Santa's lap, and his faith in Santa was so strong, that, even thought he was nine and in fourth grade, I truly feared he might not see 10 and fifth, and I was determined that he should hold onto that magic for another year. It was so bittersweet. He was big, and yet he was so small. And his teeth were a God-awful mess. That, too, I remember.
I remembered him sitting on my lap on a Disney transit bus, just weeks before, saying, " I can't wait until I have my own kids" so he could take them to Disney World. Would he ever have his own kids, I wondered now? That day kept haunting me. The doctor was no help. All he could say was, "every time a child has an MRI, it's scary."
After we saw Santa, I remember that we drove home. It was a surreal trip, between the news and my new anxieties. All of these years, being accused of hypochondria and never having been given anything this terrible to face: brain surgery. But I didn't even know that yet. It was still the unknown. In fact the unknown was so alarming, that when I found out that it meant brain surgery, that was like a huge blessing.
I did take Brian back to school that morning. On our way, trees were literally falling onto the roadways. It was very rainy and windy, and we were on a particularly winding road. A tree branch snapped off and landed on a power line. We were almost directly underneath it at the time. I just remember the entire day as if it happened only yesterday.
And I hope to never experience a day like that again.
So the appointment changed everything ... Arnold Chiari and Syrinx are now household words for our family. My own vocabulary has grown tremendously, to inlude such terms as tethered spinal cord, pseudotumor cerebri, foramen magnum, and dura mater. Words that three years ago I would have shivered at the mere mention of one syllable. Now I read the message boards almost daily, trying to be sure the rug is never pulled out from under me again.
Surely, there were good experiences with the bad. We met many smart and world reknowned neurosurgeons. They took my calls, and called me back on weekends! The weeks after the surgery were strangely serene; with our family sort of all holed up in the house as if there were no world going on outside. Under different circumstances, it would have been beautiful. We played mancala, Sorry, Parcheesi, BusyTown, checkers, and (God help us) Pokemon Stadium for countless hours. We watched movies. We sat around.
But mainly, I worried. I worried beginning December 1st. I will never forget the date or the words, " I am not worried about (insert reason for visit), but I am very worried about (insert new symptoms, of which previously blissfully unaware)" nor will I forget "he needs an MRI of his brain, and an MRI of his c'spine" (c-what? oh yeah, that's another part of my new vocabulary, along with t-spine, lumbar, and medulla)
So the worrying began December 1st. After the MRI it did abate briefly. Only until I found out that the doctor had not called back not because it was normal, but because he wanted to see for himself the abnormal. And when he did return my call, again there were words I will never forget, "both of the things I was looking for ... (I swear he paused for effect) ... appear to be there."
This was several days after December 1, but I don't recall any dates other than December 1 for that part of the story. The month of December runs together. I remember we left the neurologist, and we went to the mall. Brian sat on Santa's lap, and his faith in Santa was so strong, that, even thought he was nine and in fourth grade, I truly feared he might not see 10 and fifth, and I was determined that he should hold onto that magic for another year. It was so bittersweet. He was big, and yet he was so small. And his teeth were a God-awful mess. That, too, I remember.
I remembered him sitting on my lap on a Disney transit bus, just weeks before, saying, " I can't wait until I have my own kids" so he could take them to Disney World. Would he ever have his own kids, I wondered now? That day kept haunting me. The doctor was no help. All he could say was, "every time a child has an MRI, it's scary."
After we saw Santa, I remember that we drove home. It was a surreal trip, between the news and my new anxieties. All of these years, being accused of hypochondria and never having been given anything this terrible to face: brain surgery. But I didn't even know that yet. It was still the unknown. In fact the unknown was so alarming, that when I found out that it meant brain surgery, that was like a huge blessing.
I did take Brian back to school that morning. On our way, trees were literally falling onto the roadways. It was very rainy and windy, and we were on a particularly winding road. A tree branch snapped off and landed on a power line. We were almost directly underneath it at the time. I just remember the entire day as if it happened only yesterday.
And I hope to never experience a day like that again.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
K-Cups to go
Amidst much fanfare and anticipation, I finally bought the Keurig coffee single cup coffee maker. At the risk of appearing to be wannabes next to my sister's fancy coffee and espresso at the touch system, the ease and appeal of one cup at a time were too much to resist. No clean up? You know that is for me.
So, $149 with $30 instant rebate; three packs of K-cups at $9.99 apiece, less $5 for the purchase, and Brian and I were set to install the machine. As we followed the directions, he could barely contain his glee. Brian can hardly stand surprising people; in his eloquence, he describes the feeling: "I always get really happy when we do things like this" as he bounces his shoulders around.
We prime the machine. We brew the first cup of water. Then we brewed some coffee. What's this? With milk added, it's the color of sand on the beach! Maybe I misjudged the mug size, put in too much milk.
We try the hot cocoa. Brian says it's "ok". The happy feeling is fading. I smell it, and it reminds me of the hot chocolate I used to get at Penn Center Rink when we'd go ice skating in the winter.
But, there it is, in the kitchen, and I have to admit, it is beautiful, and easy to use. What a concept! Kevin is happy. But then he makes coffee. Weak again. He normally fills a travel mug. This morning he put it in the travel mug and it was filled to 1/3 or 1/2 of the capacity. At least it will not keep him up on the bus ride. I guess he could do a double shot, that makes it about the same price as a cup of Starbucks.
I remember my post college days. I'd brew the coffee in a little percolator and drink half. The next morning, I'd pour the remainder into a small saucepan and heat it on the stove. That was good coffee.
My strategy for tomorrow: coffee in a tea cup.
So, $149 with $30 instant rebate; three packs of K-cups at $9.99 apiece, less $5 for the purchase, and Brian and I were set to install the machine. As we followed the directions, he could barely contain his glee. Brian can hardly stand surprising people; in his eloquence, he describes the feeling: "I always get really happy when we do things like this" as he bounces his shoulders around.
We prime the machine. We brew the first cup of water. Then we brewed some coffee. What's this? With milk added, it's the color of sand on the beach! Maybe I misjudged the mug size, put in too much milk.
We try the hot cocoa. Brian says it's "ok". The happy feeling is fading. I smell it, and it reminds me of the hot chocolate I used to get at Penn Center Rink when we'd go ice skating in the winter.
But, there it is, in the kitchen, and I have to admit, it is beautiful, and easy to use. What a concept! Kevin is happy. But then he makes coffee. Weak again. He normally fills a travel mug. This morning he put it in the travel mug and it was filled to 1/3 or 1/2 of the capacity. At least it will not keep him up on the bus ride. I guess he could do a double shot, that makes it about the same price as a cup of Starbucks.
I remember my post college days. I'd brew the coffee in a little percolator and drink half. The next morning, I'd pour the remainder into a small saucepan and heat it on the stove. That was good coffee.
My strategy for tomorrow: coffee in a tea cup.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Washer/Dryers of the Rich and Famous
It finally happened!! It really did!! Our dryer began to sputter into its last phase of life, and at last, we were able to replace it. I thought that this would have happened a year ago, when we first moved, and our seller had threatened to take out the old mismatched dinosaurs that occupied the narrow strip of space called the laundry room in our new house. To the rescue was our superhero realtor, who stepped in and paid the $300 which was offered as the purchase price.
And so they limped through another year and a few months, the washer dropping rust into load after load of clean clothes, if the lid was closed too hard; and the dryer always smelling faintly of gas for no apparent reason other than: it stunk!
Black Friday was on our side, and Sears had all their home appliances on sale for 20% off. After what was an amazingly simple process of buffering between Bob the sales guy and Kevin the brain-dead-husband who had to come along to approve such a major expenditure (about half of what I make in a year, I think, is that wise economics?) we agreed on the larger model Kenmore without the steam option. The steam option = extra work for more money. No thank you. I will keep the stains. At half my salary, it's got to still be better than anything we have had in the past.
And also amazingly - the next day they arrived at 9:30! I was able to do all the laundry which had piled up. Approximately five heaping, overflowing laundry baskets full. AND the washer and dryer are stacked now. Which alas means I will need a stool to reach the dryer controls and the back of the dryer drum without pulling out my shoulder.
But the good news - we can hide the laundry behind them now that there's room :-)
And so they limped through another year and a few months, the washer dropping rust into load after load of clean clothes, if the lid was closed too hard; and the dryer always smelling faintly of gas for no apparent reason other than: it stunk!
Black Friday was on our side, and Sears had all their home appliances on sale for 20% off. After what was an amazingly simple process of buffering between Bob the sales guy and Kevin the brain-dead-husband who had to come along to approve such a major expenditure (about half of what I make in a year, I think, is that wise economics?) we agreed on the larger model Kenmore without the steam option. The steam option = extra work for more money. No thank you. I will keep the stains. At half my salary, it's got to still be better than anything we have had in the past.
And also amazingly - the next day they arrived at 9:30! I was able to do all the laundry which had piled up. Approximately five heaping, overflowing laundry baskets full. AND the washer and dryer are stacked now. Which alas means I will need a stool to reach the dryer controls and the back of the dryer drum without pulling out my shoulder.
But the good news - we can hide the laundry behind them now that there's room :-)
Thursday, November 22, 2007
It's Thanksgiving
People singing ... it's Thanksgiving ...
This is an excerpt from a horrible song. It's a song that the kindergarteners sing, every year, and every year they pratice it over and over. If you are fortunate enough to hear this, you become permanently associated to the song. The mention of the holiday will send your subconscious voices into the reprise, "people singing ... it's Thanksgiving ..."
Of course I can't remember a single other word. Not too different from most of the kindergarteners! And this year I thought I was OK. I had the song in my head for a day or two, but it wasn't too bad. What happened? As I walk into the All Purpose Room, I see a line of pilgrims. And what are they singing? Yep.
So we have a turkey. We have a turkey, cranberry sauce, potatoes, and broccoli. I forgot to get the apple cider, but I didn't forget the Kendall Jackson Chardonnay. Lucky for us, we were out of coffee and Kevin had to be dispatched for an emergency coffee run, which turned into an hour long shopping trip. (Note: have not yet had coffee at 9am)
I also forgot to get salad. Then I thought, with turkey, cranberry sauce, potatoes, and broccoli, do we really need salad, too? The reason I forgot is that the Doll has normally brought salad. Her interpretation of bringing salad is to bring the lettuce in large shreds, and some cut up accoutrements, such as cucumbers and maybe some tomatoes. These ingredients arrive as I am about to consolidate everything else in the kitchen, and I then must find a bowl and mix and ready the salad. In print, it doesn't sound as frustrating as it actually is. If someone is bringing salad, I envision a lovely spread of greenery offset by colors, perhaps with some feta cheese and maybe croutons, covered with a lighgt bit of saran wrap. Like at the pot-luck dinners.
But this year, there is to be no disassembled salad.
But. There is coffee. I smell it.
This is an excerpt from a horrible song. It's a song that the kindergarteners sing, every year, and every year they pratice it over and over. If you are fortunate enough to hear this, you become permanently associated to the song. The mention of the holiday will send your subconscious voices into the reprise, "people singing ... it's Thanksgiving ..."
Of course I can't remember a single other word. Not too different from most of the kindergarteners! And this year I thought I was OK. I had the song in my head for a day or two, but it wasn't too bad. What happened? As I walk into the All Purpose Room, I see a line of pilgrims. And what are they singing? Yep.
So we have a turkey. We have a turkey, cranberry sauce, potatoes, and broccoli. I forgot to get the apple cider, but I didn't forget the Kendall Jackson Chardonnay. Lucky for us, we were out of coffee and Kevin had to be dispatched for an emergency coffee run, which turned into an hour long shopping trip. (Note: have not yet had coffee at 9am)
I also forgot to get salad. Then I thought, with turkey, cranberry sauce, potatoes, and broccoli, do we really need salad, too? The reason I forgot is that the Doll has normally brought salad. Her interpretation of bringing salad is to bring the lettuce in large shreds, and some cut up accoutrements, such as cucumbers and maybe some tomatoes. These ingredients arrive as I am about to consolidate everything else in the kitchen, and I then must find a bowl and mix and ready the salad. In print, it doesn't sound as frustrating as it actually is. If someone is bringing salad, I envision a lovely spread of greenery offset by colors, perhaps with some feta cheese and maybe croutons, covered with a lighgt bit of saran wrap. Like at the pot-luck dinners.
But this year, there is to be no disassembled salad.
But. There is coffee. I smell it.
Monday, November 19, 2007
A Random Blog
It's been a while since I posted, mainly because my life has been really boring and suburban. With swim team practices, cats, and shopping, just nothing has really piqued my interest.
Although I suppose there are many things. Let me start with the anti-bullying campaign that the schools have imposed on the elementary school students. These are the same students who in first grade come up to me and say, "Mary and Lisa say they're the Queens of the world, and nobody else can be it."
Yet we'll bring the entire school into the All-Purpose Room and give them the idea that, in middle school and high school, if you are being bullied in any way, this will all be ok in the end. For example, if your middle school friends no longer want to be your friend, you can tell on them! Isn't that the greatest thing? You can go to the guidance counselor and say, "Mary and Lisa think they're the Queens of the world, and nobody else can be it. "
Well, the problem is that something happens to the brains of these kids who draw those anti-bullying pictures, and make the books that describe the different types of bullies and how to handle them. It's like that part of the brain disappears and they all become mean, evil bully-monsters.
So the kid who bullies discreetly, but then taunts the fat kid until the fat kid beats him to a pulp in school, he becomes the victim, just like that. Of course, the fat kid is wrong. But the fat kid was also provoked. And fat kids will always be provoked, no matter how much anti-bullying is taught at the elementary level. The reason? Only the kids who would never be the passive-aggressive bullies are the ones who are really soaking that in.
Sad but true, and history will repeat itself, no matter what they say.
I was going to go on about other things, but I won't. My other gripe of the week is substitute teaching. But that's for another day.
Although I suppose there are many things. Let me start with the anti-bullying campaign that the schools have imposed on the elementary school students. These are the same students who in first grade come up to me and say, "Mary and Lisa say they're the Queens of the world, and nobody else can be it."
Yet we'll bring the entire school into the All-Purpose Room and give them the idea that, in middle school and high school, if you are being bullied in any way, this will all be ok in the end. For example, if your middle school friends no longer want to be your friend, you can tell on them! Isn't that the greatest thing? You can go to the guidance counselor and say, "Mary and Lisa think they're the Queens of the world, and nobody else can be it. "
Well, the problem is that something happens to the brains of these kids who draw those anti-bullying pictures, and make the books that describe the different types of bullies and how to handle them. It's like that part of the brain disappears and they all become mean, evil bully-monsters.
So the kid who bullies discreetly, but then taunts the fat kid until the fat kid beats him to a pulp in school, he becomes the victim, just like that. Of course, the fat kid is wrong. But the fat kid was also provoked. And fat kids will always be provoked, no matter how much anti-bullying is taught at the elementary level. The reason? Only the kids who would never be the passive-aggressive bullies are the ones who are really soaking that in.
Sad but true, and history will repeat itself, no matter what they say.
I was going to go on about other things, but I won't. My other gripe of the week is substitute teaching. But that's for another day.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Middle School Madness
Today was not a noteworthy day, but in the spirit of my new viewerless blog, I wanted to enter anyway. The best news was the news of the guy who saw a beautiful girl on the subway and wanted to know who she was. By the time he worked up the nerve to talk to her, she had gone. So he created a website with a sketch of her and a description, and one of her friends responded! They went out last night for the first time and had plenty to talk about. They were on the news show this morning. She is from Australia. It was very cute.
But our lives were not so cute. Why are middle school kids allowed to wander free? Are they so rude, so stupid, or just so inconsiderate as to make an excuse like, "I can't come out" and then wander by with half a dozen or so friends to go and play exclusively without Brian? Is it the chiari? Is it the no-tackle policy? Or is it something else that has made this elite little group suddenly decide to ostracize my son? Perhaps we may never know. This is uncharted territory, and it's not in the handbook. Instead, we went to visit the cats at the Humane Society. We found two of the siblings of our new kitten, Rusty, were still there. Which means that someone must have taken (we hope!) the other one we were considering. If we didn't already have so many, I would have come home with those other two on the spot!
Three days of the weekend remain! Sometimes I don't know what to do with all the time, and then it's gone.
But our lives were not so cute. Why are middle school kids allowed to wander free? Are they so rude, so stupid, or just so inconsiderate as to make an excuse like, "I can't come out" and then wander by with half a dozen or so friends to go and play exclusively without Brian? Is it the chiari? Is it the no-tackle policy? Or is it something else that has made this elite little group suddenly decide to ostracize my son? Perhaps we may never know. This is uncharted territory, and it's not in the handbook. Instead, we went to visit the cats at the Humane Society. We found two of the siblings of our new kitten, Rusty, were still there. Which means that someone must have taken (we hope!) the other one we were considering. If we didn't already have so many, I would have come home with those other two on the spot!
Three days of the weekend remain! Sometimes I don't know what to do with all the time, and then it's gone.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Have Passport? Maybe.
We had an appointment today to get passports for the kids and me. The appointment was for 10 AM. We set out for the post office only to be greeted with the same nasty shrew who gave me a hard time when I had to do a mass mailing of directories for the middle school. Perhaps she is upset because she can't find a good diet plan or hairdresser. Some people should really rethink their career choices.
Fortunately - the shrew doesn't get involved with that. (All she really does is sell stamps and tape boxes, don't ask her for anything outside of these tasks) The only remaining knowledgeable person helped us instead.
Everything was going along swimmingly until, of course, Brian's application. His birth certificate, issued the most recently of all of them, did not list any parents!!! Megan, born two years earlier, in New York, had it all. So, thankfully...we only had to drive over to the next town to get the updated version.
After quite a comedy of errors involving moved offices, parking roulette, and disconnected phone numbers, we finally found the office. $10 later, in four to six weeks, we can leave the country!!!
(as if)
Fortunately - the shrew doesn't get involved with that. (All she really does is sell stamps and tape boxes, don't ask her for anything outside of these tasks) The only remaining knowledgeable person helped us instead.
Everything was going along swimmingly until, of course, Brian's application. His birth certificate, issued the most recently of all of them, did not list any parents!!! Megan, born two years earlier, in New York, had it all. So, thankfully...we only had to drive over to the next town to get the updated version.
After quite a comedy of errors involving moved offices, parking roulette, and disconnected phone numbers, we finally found the office. $10 later, in four to six weeks, we can leave the country!!!
(as if)
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
A Victory for Idiots
Isn't it wonderful? Apparently, up till now in New Jersey, idiots have not been allowed to vote, under constitutional law! But that has all changed. Any idiot can now vote. Unfortunately, I think most idiots have slipped through the cracks and were either voting, were on the ballot themselves, or both.
And yet there will be no stem cell research. Always a concern when you're actually facing a neurological condition. I guess $450 million was just too much to spend in support of Michael J. Fox. I'm a little disappointed, I know that some people have had amazing results with stem cell transplants for certain conditions. Of course, this had to be done in Belize, which most of us can't afford, even in a last-ditch effort to prolong our lives.
So those were the main points of the day. Other than preserving green acres, which thankfully is important to anyone who has ventured out onto the Garden State Parkway and witnessed the sprawl.
My full day sub job turned into a half day job last night. After showing up at school, I found I was barely needed...most of the meetings had been cancelled and they no longer needed coverage. As my ears are always open, I overheard the secretary on the phone saying they were shorthanded for classroom aides. I volunteered and was switched to a full day job with a multiply-disabled child. A whole different day, it makes you very happy and very sad all at the same time. These children are so happy with such little things, it's very cute until you remember that for many of them, they will remain exactly at this level for the rest of their lives.
And they will never be able to vote.
And yet there will be no stem cell research. Always a concern when you're actually facing a neurological condition. I guess $450 million was just too much to spend in support of Michael J. Fox. I'm a little disappointed, I know that some people have had amazing results with stem cell transplants for certain conditions. Of course, this had to be done in Belize, which most of us can't afford, even in a last-ditch effort to prolong our lives.
So those were the main points of the day. Other than preserving green acres, which thankfully is important to anyone who has ventured out onto the Garden State Parkway and witnessed the sprawl.
My full day sub job turned into a half day job last night. After showing up at school, I found I was barely needed...most of the meetings had been cancelled and they no longer needed coverage. As my ears are always open, I overheard the secretary on the phone saying they were shorthanded for classroom aides. I volunteered and was switched to a full day job with a multiply-disabled child. A whole different day, it makes you very happy and very sad all at the same time. These children are so happy with such little things, it's very cute until you remember that for many of them, they will remain exactly at this level for the rest of their lives.
And they will never be able to vote.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Election Day Madness
So now it is election day, and the schools in our town are closed. I didn't notice the usual push to get the parents out to vote this year, and with the rainy weather and boring ballot, there may be an even less-than-poor turnout. Once again we'll head to the polls and vote on who can best raise our taxes and complicate our lives. I wish I knew who was responsible for starting construction on the three roads that I need to use to get to work, all at once, I'd be sure to cast that vote in the other direction.
On with the saga of Brian and school. How does a 12 year old brain even function? How do 12 year olds even survive? I wonder daily if this is a function of chiari malformation or testosterone, and I don't know how to find out. There is just a total lack of any organization or thought process at all. I'm going to have to figure something out.
Otherwise we expect an uneventful day. We're off to the dentist for an orthodontic adjustment and Megan's first filling. She is terrified, and it reminds me of mine. I remember he used no novacaine, and it HURT. I can still feel the pain from the drill from 30 years ago. Or maybe that's because I feel it every time I get a filling. Hm.
Hopefully, it will stop raining. Maybe we can go car shopping. I am convinced that one day my brakes will just stop working. Most of the time they feel like it's going to be at that moment. I'm so tired of guzzling gas in a thirsty V8 for the five times a year that I actually USE all seven seats. I've always wanted to just drive around in a little Honda Accord. Although I have to admit I felt much safer in my Explorer when the Asbury Park Press van nearly creamed us on the road to Princeton on Sunday.
Hopefully, I am doing this blog the right way. I'm such an inexperienced blogger.
On with the saga of Brian and school. How does a 12 year old brain even function? How do 12 year olds even survive? I wonder daily if this is a function of chiari malformation or testosterone, and I don't know how to find out. There is just a total lack of any organization or thought process at all. I'm going to have to figure something out.
Otherwise we expect an uneventful day. We're off to the dentist for an orthodontic adjustment and Megan's first filling. She is terrified, and it reminds me of mine. I remember he used no novacaine, and it HURT. I can still feel the pain from the drill from 30 years ago. Or maybe that's because I feel it every time I get a filling. Hm.
Hopefully, it will stop raining. Maybe we can go car shopping. I am convinced that one day my brakes will just stop working. Most of the time they feel like it's going to be at that moment. I'm so tired of guzzling gas in a thirsty V8 for the five times a year that I actually USE all seven seats. I've always wanted to just drive around in a little Honda Accord. Although I have to admit I felt much safer in my Explorer when the Asbury Park Press van nearly creamed us on the road to Princeton on Sunday.
Hopefully, I am doing this blog the right way. I'm such an inexperienced blogger.
Monday, November 5, 2007
My First Blog
Well, since I don't have a life, I decided to have a blog. Today is the first day of my blog so I will list the major concerns of my life today:
1. This weekend's swim meet. It was the worst ever. We spent about 15 hours in the DeNunzio Pool at Princeton University for what I have to say was worse than any meet we have been to in our seven years of attending swim meets.
2. Puff Kitty. Not only did a first round of wormings for all fail to cure Puff of her roundworm infection, but now she is in heat. She isn't due to be spayed yet according to our vet. She is about five months old.
3. Brian's truancy from school. I got a letter that he has been absent four times. Once, he ate corn on the cob and went to the orthodontist. I picked him up at 11:30. He has to stay till 12 to get credit for the day. The next time he ripped off half of his thumb when he fell off of his bike. I took him to the pediatrician and brought him in at 1:15. Again, he won't be counted present although he was there late. They even called me after I dropped him off to tell me that he wasn't in school. And he brought a doctor's note, so that should have been excused. Finally, the other two were from when he had bronchitis and got sent home early. I thought he was picked up at 12:30 that day, so not sure why it was even an absence. I guess the absence counted from when he went to the nurse at 11:30. But he has a note for that and the next day, which he must turn in. Hopefully they won't send a truant officer to the school.
4. My house. Nothing unusual. It is always a concern. After a year, we still have no window treatments. Maybe soon we will get them. Also new rugs, floors, air conditioner, kitchen and bathrooms. But no big deal. We love it anyway. Hopefully it will stand long enough for us to save the money to do these things.
5. My new blog. I don't know how to do one or even who reads it. Maybe I shouldn't tell anyone about it. That way I can write about whomever I want.
1. This weekend's swim meet. It was the worst ever. We spent about 15 hours in the DeNunzio Pool at Princeton University for what I have to say was worse than any meet we have been to in our seven years of attending swim meets.
2. Puff Kitty. Not only did a first round of wormings for all fail to cure Puff of her roundworm infection, but now she is in heat. She isn't due to be spayed yet according to our vet. She is about five months old.
3. Brian's truancy from school. I got a letter that he has been absent four times. Once, he ate corn on the cob and went to the orthodontist. I picked him up at 11:30. He has to stay till 12 to get credit for the day. The next time he ripped off half of his thumb when he fell off of his bike. I took him to the pediatrician and brought him in at 1:15. Again, he won't be counted present although he was there late. They even called me after I dropped him off to tell me that he wasn't in school. And he brought a doctor's note, so that should have been excused. Finally, the other two were from when he had bronchitis and got sent home early. I thought he was picked up at 12:30 that day, so not sure why it was even an absence. I guess the absence counted from when he went to the nurse at 11:30. But he has a note for that and the next day, which he must turn in. Hopefully they won't send a truant officer to the school.
4. My house. Nothing unusual. It is always a concern. After a year, we still have no window treatments. Maybe soon we will get them. Also new rugs, floors, air conditioner, kitchen and bathrooms. But no big deal. We love it anyway. Hopefully it will stand long enough for us to save the money to do these things.
5. My new blog. I don't know how to do one or even who reads it. Maybe I shouldn't tell anyone about it. That way I can write about whomever I want.
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