I won't go gracefully into that good night

I have always prided myself on the fact that I have good eyesight. Not that I really have anything to do with it. There has always been this secret smugness inside of me as more and more people I know need glasses. When DM got glasses I giggled. When he needed bifocals I chortled. I'm married to an old man...hee, hee, hee.

Cut to present day.

I've been noticing that things are fuzzier than normal. I have to squint and move the paper back and forth when reading small print. But I don't need glasses. My eyes are fine. I'm not that old. Pay no attention to the grey hair...wait, it's not grey hair, it is highlights...yeah...highlights...platimum blonde highlights are what they are called.

Well, the attorney-du-jour gave me some documents to revise the other day. The came from a client and were in 9 point font. Normal font size is 12, so there is quite a difference. Combine that with the scribbling that said attorney made all over the paper and it was a difficult task. When I showed the mess I had to work with to other secretaries they groaned and said things like, "Better you than me." "Good luck with that." And my personal favorite, "HA!!!" I had 6 of these suckers to do! My eyes were crossing, but I finally got them done. I said to myself, "Self, maybe you should see about glasses, it might make the strain on our eyes less." Myself said, "Shut your hole, bitch! We are not that old!" Myself is a cranky one...potty mouth too. The next morning, when I arrived, on my chair was another document to revise. This one complete with tiny font, ADJ's scratchings, but to perfect my eyestrain it came in colors. The document had been created with track changes turned on. I HATE TRACK CHANGES! So I had to look at not just tiny black type, but red and blue as well. I got 2 pages into it, stomped downstairs (with my eyes streaming), lay prostrate at my BFF's feet and begged her to borrow her reading glasses.

The piece de resistance in the whole humiliating experience was when I tried them on and she said, "Oh! Don't wear them yet, they make you look old."

What is a BFF for, hhhmmmmm?

Confimation/First Communion

Saturday #3 was confirmed & made his first communion. He was extraordinarily handsome in his suit and so very excited. I was so happy for him. He has been waiting to receive communion for nearly 2 years. Afterward when I asked him how he was he said, with eyes sparkling, "Great. You know, I wasn't sure if I should drink the blood. But I figured, what the heck, this is my first time. So I went for it."

His confirmation name is Joseph. When I asked why he picked Joseph, the reply was, "Well, Joseph is Jesus' step-father. I figured that if anyone could help me to be close to Jesus, he could."

Today is the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. I emailed DM to tell #3 that. #3 has football practice this evening. His reply was, "I'll fight for him in football."

Gotta love 9 year old boys!

Pain is not fun

I am in pain. Total, hideous, brain numbing pain.

If only my ankle were numb.

Yesterday it was sore, so I wore my good shoes, for which I have a note from my chiropractor in order to wear at work. By lunch time it hurt so much I was nauseaus. I took my magical meds to no effect. On the way home I called the chiro to discuss it and we were befuddled. It hurts more when elevated, but doesn't hurt more when walking on it. Very strange. I called DM to get me the cowboy cure...BOOZE. He procured rum & mojito mix. I didn't drink enough. By 10 that night I was debating whether I should go to ER or not. I hate the ER...hospitals are no place for people! Anyway, I stuck my foot in a bucket of ice water (again) and froze it solid and was finally able to sleep.

This morning when I awoke it still hurt, just not as much as last night. Saw the chiro again and we decided that I must have strained my talofibular ligament. When she adjusted me, doing a side posture (which we have done dozens of times before) my foot got hung up and pulled a little. Maybe with the mess that is my ankle, it just couldn't take it. Still, very strange.

I called the orthopod, whom I saw in January. Yes January 2008! The soonest they can get me in is Monday. Left like this I will have gnawed my foot off by then. I asked if they could call something in for me or have any other ideas of what to do for the pain. They said (notice the quotes) "We couldn't possibly call anything in for you since it has been so long since you have been here."

Since when is 3 months long?!?!

Medical Pitbull Chick reared her ugly head. It has been a long time since she has surfaced and I would rather she continue to hide in the depths of the abyss that is my soul, but she is useful when needed. "Have the doctor call me then. I have an appointment...ON MONDAY...THAT IS 4 DAYS AWAY...WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO UNTIL THEN? HHHHMMMM?" She hemmed & hawed, but said she would leave a message and took my pharmacy # just in case.

I received a call from his office. Another nurse, who wanted to assure me that they wouldn't call in anything for me...blah, blah, blah. My response was the same. I'm still waiting to hear from them. Notice I'm not holding my breath?

Sure hope I don't have to go in to urgentcare.

A Blast from the Past

I just realized that I had a blog on live journal years ago. I found it & started reading. Pretty funny, pretty interesting. I thought this tidbit would be good to put on here. It makes me see how far we have come. It was titled "What to do about (#3)".

That boy may be the death of me, or I him. I he lives to adulthood it will be a miracle!

Today started off badly when he told me that he didn't want to eat breakfast at school, just wanted to go play. I told him no, he must eat, he had plenty of time to eat and play. He growled around and finally went into the cafeteria. I didn't leave till I saw him scooting down the line with his tray, milk & utensils.

When I got there to pick him up, his teacher let us come into her room to wait for #2. #3 was so good. He sat right in his desk and did his homework with hardly any prompting from me. I was shocked and amazed.When done, we left to get #2. After a ways I looked back & there's no #3. "#1, go get your brother." He disappears also. A couple minutes later #1 emerges...dragging #3. The latter is mad, he wanted to go to the playground, I said we had to go to the Chiro. He's pissed, won't move, sitting, pouting on the sidewalk. I go over to the little house monkey and he won't get up, won't speak, only grunts. I try to stand him up, no dice, crumples to the ground like a cheap suit. Try again, this time putting my finger like a hook in his armpit and ATTEMPTING to lift him up like that.

Notice I said attempting?

The child is oblivious to pain...unless he chooses not to be. This is why spanking doesn't work with him. In order for it to effect his behavior it would have to be borderline child abuse...seriously. Gotta find some way to discipline him. Any way, I'm getting madder & madder. I finally decided to leave him there, he'll get bored & decide to straighten up.

What a moron I am.

He just stayed there pouting, and making sure to grunt if people walked by. Yes, I am so very proud. I'm glad I've finally gotten over myself and realized that his behavior is a reflection on him, not me. I go back over, try again. Same results. This time I threaten and make even more of an effort to get him moving, he will not. I give him a swat on his bottom, don't care anymore what people will think. He didn't care at all. I had to walk away, I asked my sister to help me & we just walked away from him toward the cars. He did start following, but knew we were watching him, so made sure to keep his distance. I took all the others to the cars and she went back for him. Surely he wouldn't behave that way for his Auntie.

See above moron comment.

She DRAGGED him into the office and told the secretary that I would be in later to get him. Picture this, a woman who is 6 months pregnant, dragging a 5 year old dead weight that is grunting, squealing and grabbing on to anything that he can.

He is very strong.

I wait till all the traffic has gone (about 10 minutes) and go in the office.

"Are you ready to come with me?"

"RREEEUUUNNNHHHH"

"We need to go now, get up."

"UURRRRGGGGGG"

I then take his backpack & say, "Fine, I'm taking this to the car then."

He gets up and follows me. I hug him and sit with him for a while, try to talk to no avail. Let him be, we'll talk later.

When we got home I made him go in his room until dinner. That was a feat in itself. He was apologetic and loving, then when he realized that didn't mean he could come out he freaked all over again.

It wasn't all horrible, he was the sweetest person after dinner. Remorseful & loving. I don't know what to do with him. I will not enable him to turn out like Dean Hoffman! (Dean is a guy that my brother went to highschool with...a complete sociopath)

Talk about a trip down memory lane. He really isn't nearly that bad anymore. Maybe he is learning to use his powers for good.

Kids are just too darn smart

Last week while #3 and I were driving home from football practice, blissfully alone for once, he was babbling on about some video game. I had no frame of reference for what he was talking about & my mind was wandering far, far away. Being a good mom, I did manage to keep an attentiveish look on my face. When he was done I nodded and uttered something along the lines of "mmmhhhhmmmm". He began discussing the practice & I was once again transported into the conversation. Right in the middle he blurts out, "You were totally not listening to me before, huh mom?" If I hadn't been on the freeway I would have buried my face in my hands. I just giggled uncontrollably. He said, "See...I know you! #1 has taught me well."

They are just too smart!