Things I have learned about having a broken rib....
--there is such a thing as extra strength vicodan
--you can take two vicodan ES at night and sometimes it still hurts
--getting a cold when you have a broken rib is the most horrible thing imaginable
--vicodan makes you loopy
--vicodan is my friend
--three year olds take advantage of sick mommies and thrash the house
--no, wearing a constrictor band does not make it better
--breathing deeply may prevent pneumonia, but it hurts like a mofo
--wearing a bra is impossible unless it is all cotton, two sizes too large , and blue
--explaining that not wearing a bra is kind of uncomfortable to a P.A. who is a member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee is a source of mirth
--laughing hurts
--I am a member of the Big Breasted Broad Club and I would prefer to wear a bra, thanks
--giving birth is preferable to a broken rib except for that whole the next 18 years thing
--driving for hours on end hurts
--having your husband forget to gas the car so that you run out of gas on the top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere would be okay if you could just shoot yourself rather than remain in the car or sit on a log
--sighing hurts
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
My ribs are continuing to be very very sore and to limit my movement. While vioxx can make that better, I'm not sure it's better for me to be able to do more and thus, put myself at risk. Not that I'm a workaholic or anything, Nooooo, not me. Uh-unh. No sirreeee.
My mom and I were comparing notes about that too, because she's torn the cartilege between her ribs and dammit, if I'm not a whole lot like her on that whole workaholic thing. She says she keeps reinjuring the ribs and it's taking her that much longer to heal. I've actually been trying really hard to slow down and take it easy, but I've been finding phrases like "Gosh, I should really paint that bathroom" coming unbidden into my head and "Hey, only three more loads of laundry, if I hang dry them."
The biggest bitch is that I have to finish that baby quilt and there's just no way I can get there right now. Sitting up and leaning forward like you have to do for sewing for an extended period of time would have me nauseous with agony in short order. I've been thinking about what if I got it pinned and taught Angelina, but I've been also debating that whole patience with a teenager thing and with the whole nauseous pain thing happening, I'm not sure I can handle the other, especially when we are talking about my thigh squishing Bernette sewing machine. I mean, (insert high pitched voice),"It's a Bernina!" And it cost $400 several years ago when that actually counted for something.
I did go to the dermatologist on Monday and I have a full blown yeast gone to fungus skin infection under my boobs. I've got the meds for it, as well as medicated anti-itching stuff for my ever itchy back, and a fancy alpha hydroxy skin lotion. Diabetes blows chunks. It doesn't matter that I my last hba1c was a 5.7 to my skin, it still grows icky critters in inconvenient places. Although, someone found the yeast infection cream stuff in the remote flap on the couch and accused me of using it, however, my poor daughter has been the sufferer of late. Hey, there's little you can't do with a mini pad, active yogurt cultures and a tube of monostat. I think a commercial I just saw in that vein scared me some.
Basically, a commercial for yogurt and in the background has about 10 grown women smiling and clearly involved in a slumber party and all I could think is "What is this, a yeast infection party?"
What kind of women have those? Is that a bunch of single women who've hung out at the pool too long in their swim suits and all discovered somewhat offhandedly that they all have yeast infections and hey, what the heck, let's have a yogurt and monostat party?
Honestly, the only women I see at the public pools are not young pretty singles, they're frumpy pretty wives watching their kids and they don't have enough time to lay on their towels by the pool soaking up so much sun that they change their body chemistry. They are running their asses off chasing munchkins in and out of the water, walking someone to pee in the bathroom (instead of the pool), toweling off a child, suggesting that their blue-lipped child take 5 in the sun, playing "find the penny", and disciplining one of their other children with the phrase,"Please don't try tossing pennies down other people's butt cracks." And a few minutes later,"Please don't drop pennies down my swimsuit."
I hear doors thundering in the hall. I am getting in that shower before I hear the phrase,"What's for breakfast?" and feel obligated to cook.
My mom and I were comparing notes about that too, because she's torn the cartilege between her ribs and dammit, if I'm not a whole lot like her on that whole workaholic thing. She says she keeps reinjuring the ribs and it's taking her that much longer to heal. I've actually been trying really hard to slow down and take it easy, but I've been finding phrases like "Gosh, I should really paint that bathroom" coming unbidden into my head and "Hey, only three more loads of laundry, if I hang dry them."
The biggest bitch is that I have to finish that baby quilt and there's just no way I can get there right now. Sitting up and leaning forward like you have to do for sewing for an extended period of time would have me nauseous with agony in short order. I've been thinking about what if I got it pinned and taught Angelina, but I've been also debating that whole patience with a teenager thing and with the whole nauseous pain thing happening, I'm not sure I can handle the other, especially when we are talking about my thigh squishing Bernette sewing machine. I mean, (insert high pitched voice),"It's a Bernina!" And it cost $400 several years ago when that actually counted for something.
I did go to the dermatologist on Monday and I have a full blown yeast gone to fungus skin infection under my boobs. I've got the meds for it, as well as medicated anti-itching stuff for my ever itchy back, and a fancy alpha hydroxy skin lotion. Diabetes blows chunks. It doesn't matter that I my last hba1c was a 5.7 to my skin, it still grows icky critters in inconvenient places. Although, someone found the yeast infection cream stuff in the remote flap on the couch and accused me of using it, however, my poor daughter has been the sufferer of late. Hey, there's little you can't do with a mini pad, active yogurt cultures and a tube of monostat. I think a commercial I just saw in that vein scared me some.
Basically, a commercial for yogurt and in the background has about 10 grown women smiling and clearly involved in a slumber party and all I could think is "What is this, a yeast infection party?"
What kind of women have those? Is that a bunch of single women who've hung out at the pool too long in their swim suits and all discovered somewhat offhandedly that they all have yeast infections and hey, what the heck, let's have a yogurt and monostat party?
Honestly, the only women I see at the public pools are not young pretty singles, they're frumpy pretty wives watching their kids and they don't have enough time to lay on their towels by the pool soaking up so much sun that they change their body chemistry. They are running their asses off chasing munchkins in and out of the water, walking someone to pee in the bathroom (instead of the pool), toweling off a child, suggesting that their blue-lipped child take 5 in the sun, playing "find the penny", and disciplining one of their other children with the phrase,"Please don't try tossing pennies down other people's butt cracks." And a few minutes later,"Please don't drop pennies down my swimsuit."
I hear doors thundering in the hall. I am getting in that shower before I hear the phrase,"What's for breakfast?" and feel obligated to cook.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Okay, Mike and I took the kids to a local water park on Friday. I was then encouraged and dared to ride a ride called,"The Black Widow." As I hit the second tier, I caught a lot of air and started to flip on my big giant floaty tube thingy, so rather than go down on my face on the ride the rest of the way, I let the tube go up behind me and I landed in back in the track and went down. I knew I got banged up and I took it easy for the rest of the day. I took 800 mg of ibuprofen, and I got worse. I got to where I was whimpering when Mike drove over road seams, at which point, I called my doctor's line to see just how much painkiller could I get hepped up on. I was referred to the nurse's line, who referred me to the emergency room.
Several hours later from the emergency room, I was sent home with the prognosis: A broken rib.
Deep breathing hurts. Sneezing hurts. Belching hurts. Drinking a lot of cold water hurts. Sleeping hurts. And vicodan is a drug you can only use at night because it isn't good for driving. I know, I know -- details, details.
And clothes you can button up are just about the best damned thing you can have in your wardrobe. At least now that the muscles have mostly healed, I can get on my own underwear. Getting in and out of bed is a complete and total bitch. And hiccups are the work of the devil.
The worst part is that I can't hug the kids very well. Genny's been dying to cuddle and all I can do is hold hands, which just plain blows.
Several hours later from the emergency room, I was sent home with the prognosis: A broken rib.
Deep breathing hurts. Sneezing hurts. Belching hurts. Drinking a lot of cold water hurts. Sleeping hurts. And vicodan is a drug you can only use at night because it isn't good for driving. I know, I know -- details, details.
And clothes you can button up are just about the best damned thing you can have in your wardrobe. At least now that the muscles have mostly healed, I can get on my own underwear. Getting in and out of bed is a complete and total bitch. And hiccups are the work of the devil.
The worst part is that I can't hug the kids very well. Genny's been dying to cuddle and all I can do is hold hands, which just plain blows.
Thursday, July 17, 2003
Dear God,
I know you're testing me lately. I am studying hard and I hope I'm doing well. Someday, I'd like to make honor roll.
Today, my 15 year old friend and niece started to just leave. She made it so I could find her easily, so she wasn't really leaving, but I'd been suspecting she was sad and depressed, because she'd been hitting me so much. She made it seem like play, but when someone is always hitting you, it's like they're trying to get your attention. I kept wondering what she didn't think I was attending and today we found out.
I touched her toe and made a smooching noise and that's the straw that broke the camel's back, apparently, because she left me at the restaurant with my two kids and the unpaid bill. I watched where she walked, paid the bill, strapped the kids in the car and drove down the road 4 blocks. I called 911 and as I was transferred to the police, I saw her up ahead walking on the same street, so I picked her up and talked with her. We discussed that we love each other and that people who love each other don't just up and leave. I asked her what was going on and she said she's worrying. I said,"OK, when we get home, Genny goes down for a nap, Russell goes into the bathroom with the fan on to clean it, and you and I are going to talk."
I cried all the way home as I drove, just tears streaming down my face, quietly. Remember, God, I prayed? Thanks for hearing my prayers because when she did talk, I sat quietly and listened and I asked questions to get more answers. We reiterated the same conversation over again -- pete and repeat -- how if things go to shit, she can stay here and she'll be safe and have her needs met. How her mom seems to be making the strides necessary to provide for her. She looked desperately sad and I asked why the toe thing set her over the edge and she shrugged. I said,"After I had endured a lot of abuse, there were some things that triggered me, sometimes for no reason." I told her about my weirdnesses about hair and hairbrushes. She looked relieved and said that yeah, sometimes she has the same thing. I said that she'd been hitting, kicking and punching me for days and that I had been worried, but waiting.
She apologized.
I told her I loved her. She told me she loved me back.
And for the first time all week, she went to her room and slept.
I may not be able to save the world, and maybe even not her, but I feel I am doing the right thing by making the effort. God, you tell me to love and I hope I love enough.
God, please hold A in the light and take all my wishes and hopes for her happiness and help her make them real in her life.
Love and adoration,
Wendy
I know you're testing me lately. I am studying hard and I hope I'm doing well. Someday, I'd like to make honor roll.
Today, my 15 year old friend and niece started to just leave. She made it so I could find her easily, so she wasn't really leaving, but I'd been suspecting she was sad and depressed, because she'd been hitting me so much. She made it seem like play, but when someone is always hitting you, it's like they're trying to get your attention. I kept wondering what she didn't think I was attending and today we found out.
I touched her toe and made a smooching noise and that's the straw that broke the camel's back, apparently, because she left me at the restaurant with my two kids and the unpaid bill. I watched where she walked, paid the bill, strapped the kids in the car and drove down the road 4 blocks. I called 911 and as I was transferred to the police, I saw her up ahead walking on the same street, so I picked her up and talked with her. We discussed that we love each other and that people who love each other don't just up and leave. I asked her what was going on and she said she's worrying. I said,"OK, when we get home, Genny goes down for a nap, Russell goes into the bathroom with the fan on to clean it, and you and I are going to talk."
I cried all the way home as I drove, just tears streaming down my face, quietly. Remember, God, I prayed? Thanks for hearing my prayers because when she did talk, I sat quietly and listened and I asked questions to get more answers. We reiterated the same conversation over again -- pete and repeat -- how if things go to shit, she can stay here and she'll be safe and have her needs met. How her mom seems to be making the strides necessary to provide for her. She looked desperately sad and I asked why the toe thing set her over the edge and she shrugged. I said,"After I had endured a lot of abuse, there were some things that triggered me, sometimes for no reason." I told her about my weirdnesses about hair and hairbrushes. She looked relieved and said that yeah, sometimes she has the same thing. I said that she'd been hitting, kicking and punching me for days and that I had been worried, but waiting.
She apologized.
I told her I loved her. She told me she loved me back.
And for the first time all week, she went to her room and slept.
I may not be able to save the world, and maybe even not her, but I feel I am doing the right thing by making the effort. God, you tell me to love and I hope I love enough.
God, please hold A in the light and take all my wishes and hopes for her happiness and help her make them real in her life.
Love and adoration,
Wendy
Saturday, July 12, 2003
I am feeling like a rabid angry elephant and I'm thinking there has to be a china shop somewhere that I can demolish.
We took A for Pauline because she needed to be able to pay bills. So Pauline is now letting the girlfriend of A's older brother stay there, which means she's also letting the older brother who abused her so much that she kicked him out mid-school year when he turned 18. The girlfriend is 17 and told her parents she wanted to leave so she could be with her abusive boyfriend. Her parents said go ahead (don't let the door hit your butt on your way out the door, dear), however the girlfriend had no plan for where to live, Pauline said she could stay for a couple days, which is now stretching to a couple weeks.
I know very freakin' well that Pauline's son won't give her a penny towards anything and that Pauline will be paying for everything. I also know that despite the fact that Pauline said she was putting A first, that this is a big fat lie.
Mike and I have already discussed that A may come stay here, if the brother and girlfriend aren't out when I take her home for her birthday and that we'll simply come take her back and that Pauline will fill out custody papers granting us guardianship over A, so that we can put her on our insurance and claim her on taxes. She'll stay for the entire school year, so that she doesn't lose school time and we've also discussed that we will work out letting her get involved in school activities, so that she can have more of a social life because we know that will be the hardest thing on her about doing this.
I'm pissed because I'm paying for Pauline's son's sex life. I'm ripshit that her daughter, who has worked her ass off and been a terrific help and kept up her end of the contract with us is getting the short end of the stick. I don't give a shit if her son is a bully, Pauline needs to call the cops and have him removed from her home and provide for the one kid which she is still legally obligated to support.
We took A for Pauline because she needed to be able to pay bills. So Pauline is now letting the girlfriend of A's older brother stay there, which means she's also letting the older brother who abused her so much that she kicked him out mid-school year when he turned 18. The girlfriend is 17 and told her parents she wanted to leave so she could be with her abusive boyfriend. Her parents said go ahead (don't let the door hit your butt on your way out the door, dear), however the girlfriend had no plan for where to live, Pauline said she could stay for a couple days, which is now stretching to a couple weeks.
I know very freakin' well that Pauline's son won't give her a penny towards anything and that Pauline will be paying for everything. I also know that despite the fact that Pauline said she was putting A first, that this is a big fat lie.
Mike and I have already discussed that A may come stay here, if the brother and girlfriend aren't out when I take her home for her birthday and that we'll simply come take her back and that Pauline will fill out custody papers granting us guardianship over A, so that we can put her on our insurance and claim her on taxes. She'll stay for the entire school year, so that she doesn't lose school time and we've also discussed that we will work out letting her get involved in school activities, so that she can have more of a social life because we know that will be the hardest thing on her about doing this.
I'm pissed because I'm paying for Pauline's son's sex life. I'm ripshit that her daughter, who has worked her ass off and been a terrific help and kept up her end of the contract with us is getting the short end of the stick. I don't give a shit if her son is a bully, Pauline needs to call the cops and have him removed from her home and provide for the one kid which she is still legally obligated to support.
Wednesday, July 09, 2003
Man, I'm just tired.
Pauline came up to visit with us and we went to a local water park today. We're so sunburned and tired.
I miss my house with just my kids and just my husband. I am glad to help out, but it's just so much all the time and sometimes, I just feel tired.
I miss Mike mostly. To the good, we can lock the door and go into our room and just spend time talking and hanging out. Today, with the car full of kids and Pauline, I stopped to get my water shoes out of the back of Mike's car and I called him on the cell and asked him to come downstairs. He came out, I smooched him and we drove off.
Pauline said I was cute. I just am in love. I miss him a lot, too. With all of these kids, it's hard to have a spare moment alone with him hanging out in the livingroom. We saw T3 (dumb dumb dumb movie) and we saw it late at night, which was nice, but I miss our quiet hour or so in the evening cuddling on the couch without a 15 year old thinking we're big horny lechers. (We are, but yeesh!)
I also feel like when I have someone here, I am supposed to entertain them, so I haven't painted nor have I hardly unpacked, which sucks big wang. I want to finish my painting and I want to be able to just take a nap with the kids, if the mood strikes me and things are just too crazy right now to do that. Add to things that I am now sewing blankets and quilts for A's pregnant 15 year old friend, and there aren't enough hours in the day to sew my curtains for my kitchen or for my bathroom or a dress for Genny or a throwover for me for the pool.
The icing on the cake is that Russell's meds are just not working and he's been pretty bad. Today wasn't too awful because we just kept him running and I kept him on his usual old meds for most of the day, which wasn't great, but it made his behavior tolerable. He's trying so hard and it just about kills me. I want him to be happy. I'd give anything for him to just be happy and have a great day.
Heck, I'd like that for me, too. I'm not unhappy, just stressed. Small surprise, I guess.
Pauline came up to visit with us and we went to a local water park today. We're so sunburned and tired.
I miss my house with just my kids and just my husband. I am glad to help out, but it's just so much all the time and sometimes, I just feel tired.
I miss Mike mostly. To the good, we can lock the door and go into our room and just spend time talking and hanging out. Today, with the car full of kids and Pauline, I stopped to get my water shoes out of the back of Mike's car and I called him on the cell and asked him to come downstairs. He came out, I smooched him and we drove off.
Pauline said I was cute. I just am in love. I miss him a lot, too. With all of these kids, it's hard to have a spare moment alone with him hanging out in the livingroom. We saw T3 (dumb dumb dumb movie) and we saw it late at night, which was nice, but I miss our quiet hour or so in the evening cuddling on the couch without a 15 year old thinking we're big horny lechers. (We are, but yeesh!)
I also feel like when I have someone here, I am supposed to entertain them, so I haven't painted nor have I hardly unpacked, which sucks big wang. I want to finish my painting and I want to be able to just take a nap with the kids, if the mood strikes me and things are just too crazy right now to do that. Add to things that I am now sewing blankets and quilts for A's pregnant 15 year old friend, and there aren't enough hours in the day to sew my curtains for my kitchen or for my bathroom or a dress for Genny or a throwover for me for the pool.
The icing on the cake is that Russell's meds are just not working and he's been pretty bad. Today wasn't too awful because we just kept him running and I kept him on his usual old meds for most of the day, which wasn't great, but it made his behavior tolerable. He's trying so hard and it just about kills me. I want him to be happy. I'd give anything for him to just be happy and have a great day.
Heck, I'd like that for me, too. I'm not unhappy, just stressed. Small surprise, I guess.
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
This morning I went to the spa pool and it was okay, but I think I need to work harder. It hurt a little, but I think I was taking it too easy because I'm not hurting much tonight and because my sugars are running high, which is way not usual after a good workout. I put in a half hour of solid water work -- jogging in the water, x-c skiing, kicking, etc., but I think it was just not quite hard enough, so tomorrow, I think I'll go a little early to avoid the nosy gabbing old people and try again, working for more aerobic-ness and more time. I may even try out in the pool first and then go to the spa to warm up and get the cold out of my joints.
Today, Genny just kind of lost it. I don't know what crawled up her patooty, but man, she was just the crowned Princess of Piss and Vinegar and that's even next to the teenager with advanced PMS. It all kind of culminated with an hour of meltdown from 5-6. Word, I've never seen this kid lose it like she lost it tonight. I don't know if having to share all her stuff and her room with the teenager just hit her and turned her little world upside down today or if she's getting sick. I almost hope it's the latter because I can fix that better than the space invasion of a teenager.
The teenager is going to a drawing class tomorrow and much like Rudolph, I could even say she glows. She's very psyched about it, but she had a hard time accepting it. I think to some degree, no one has ever done something this nice for her before and she was stunned about the money. I'm really glad to be able to show her that we think she's way worth it.
While we're not rolling in money, I put in extra time on the contract and got a little extra cash and after I find out what the dental damage is tomorrow at the dentist's, we'll know how much I need to pay my dental bills to get my teeth somewhere near cleaned up, capped, and done from the stock options. I'm hoping we can avoid the whole damned thing and work out a reasonable payment plan, but I suspect it won't be that tremendously reasonable for our restricted budget in the face of my not-really-working status.
I'm getting psyched about school. I was hoping to work on a book idea with a professor, but she blew me off for the summer, so I'll approach it in the fall.
We're still figuring out the 4th celebration plans, but I think it'll be BBQ here and then we'll drive to the city and see the fireworks. We might be able to drive up a dirt road and watch two cities worth from a mountain crest, but I need to scope out the roads during the day.
My husband is naked in my bed and giving me that come hither nod. Must. go. hither.
Today, Genny just kind of lost it. I don't know what crawled up her patooty, but man, she was just the crowned Princess of Piss and Vinegar and that's even next to the teenager with advanced PMS. It all kind of culminated with an hour of meltdown from 5-6. Word, I've never seen this kid lose it like she lost it tonight. I don't know if having to share all her stuff and her room with the teenager just hit her and turned her little world upside down today or if she's getting sick. I almost hope it's the latter because I can fix that better than the space invasion of a teenager.
The teenager is going to a drawing class tomorrow and much like Rudolph, I could even say she glows. She's very psyched about it, but she had a hard time accepting it. I think to some degree, no one has ever done something this nice for her before and she was stunned about the money. I'm really glad to be able to show her that we think she's way worth it.
While we're not rolling in money, I put in extra time on the contract and got a little extra cash and after I find out what the dental damage is tomorrow at the dentist's, we'll know how much I need to pay my dental bills to get my teeth somewhere near cleaned up, capped, and done from the stock options. I'm hoping we can avoid the whole damned thing and work out a reasonable payment plan, but I suspect it won't be that tremendously reasonable for our restricted budget in the face of my not-really-working status.
I'm getting psyched about school. I was hoping to work on a book idea with a professor, but she blew me off for the summer, so I'll approach it in the fall.
We're still figuring out the 4th celebration plans, but I think it'll be BBQ here and then we'll drive to the city and see the fireworks. We might be able to drive up a dirt road and watch two cities worth from a mountain crest, but I need to scope out the roads during the day.
My husband is naked in my bed and giving me that come hither nod. Must. go. hither.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
Teenagers are a lot of work, specifically female ones. I am so glad that my next interaction with a teenager in a parental capacity will be with a boy, not a girl and that I'm looking at at least a good 10 years before I have to deal with a female teenager again.
I love this girl. I love her like my own. She's suffered pretty awful things and I think about the time she flinched when I reached up by her head into a cabinet that I realized just how much.
According to her mom, I've been spoiling her rotten. I've bought her underwear, socks, a pair of jeans, some shirts, and a bra. She had nothing but 3 halter tops and a single t-shirt when she arrived, which was all she owned in the world, aside from a couple of jeans, and a smattering of underwear. (Okay, we also hit the Mexican bread shop and Krispy Kremes, but whatEver) Her halter tops left little to the imagination and I finally pulled her aside and said that this was a really conservative area (Little Mormonville situated just south of Baptismal Fount) and that that kind of clothing was inappropriate. Pauline said she had not bought her any of the clothes she brought, so I'm assuming that her charming daddy did. She hasn't been living with Pauline but for a few weeks, so that's the most likely.
Overall, I thought that I chose a pretty tactful way to say, "Hey, you're my 15 year old niece and you look like a tramp!"
Mike and I are cashing out stock options that have gone from being worth 15 to 40 bucks per share (in 3 months) to have extra cash. We both feel that she's had so little for so long that we are happy to find a way to give her something. We just keep telling ourselves that he can use the employee stock purchase plan to recover some of this and because the stock just split, it won't kill us nearly as much. *sigh* I'm putting her in an art class because one of the kids at the Christian youth group made aspersions about her heritage, claiming that he was just making a joke. I didn't find it funny and she was hurt by it, so I'm taking her to the library at will and she'll be taking this drawing class once a week while she's here because drawing is something she loves to do. Her mom is coming up next week to visit, so we'll all go to the local water park with the kids and hang. I might look into something else, but I'll see how happy she is and go from there.
She's been heavy on the guilt trip with her mom, but Pauline is hanging in there and not giving in because she told her "Too bad, you're going to have to stay." I've assured her that we're spoiling A rotten and while A whines about missing her friends, she's enjoying herself anyhow. She's tried pushing on the phone privileges, which I cut up short when she and I both knew she'd exceeded her limits. Mike was very clear with me about what was okay with him and what wasn't, so I've held the line fiercely. We were going to drive her home for an eye appointment and then I realized she was doing stuff that made it clear that she planned on making a run for it when we got back. I talked to her mom and we agreed that perhaps she just needed to wait on that eye appointment, but I also scratched my cornea with a drop of bacon grease, so I think it was all God's will. Everything for a reason.
The only real bummer is that a strange girl called on her boyfriend's cell and hung up on us one morning a half dozen times and finally demanded to know who I was and I identified myself and she hung up. Suffice it to say that we don't think the BF is keeping his nose clean despite the fact that he declared that "I think I love you." to her before they left. However, give this girl credit, she said that,"Hey, I've only known you 6 months, so I don't know if I love you or not." He was nonetheless unamused, apparently such that he can't keep it in his pants. Teenagers!
To follow up on the bacon grease, I saw the doctor yesterday and he said it was healed, so I'm good. No worries. I've gained weight, but I found out that there's a spa pool I could go work out in mornings. My biggest complaint with working out in water in winter is that it's cold, so now, I've got no excuses. I am going to start bolting for an hour or so mornings so I can get some working out time in there. It feels wonderful on my arthritis, and the weight loss would be lovely for my self esteem and diabetes. I got on a scale at the doctor and while it wasn't pretty, it wasn't as bad as I thought either.
Tomorrow morning, I'll be the big fat broad hauling my butt to the spa pool at the buttcrack of dawn. I figure a significant reduction of my buttcrack is a small price to pay for the lack of sleep.
I love this girl. I love her like my own. She's suffered pretty awful things and I think about the time she flinched when I reached up by her head into a cabinet that I realized just how much.
According to her mom, I've been spoiling her rotten. I've bought her underwear, socks, a pair of jeans, some shirts, and a bra. She had nothing but 3 halter tops and a single t-shirt when she arrived, which was all she owned in the world, aside from a couple of jeans, and a smattering of underwear. (Okay, we also hit the Mexican bread shop and Krispy Kremes, but whatEver) Her halter tops left little to the imagination and I finally pulled her aside and said that this was a really conservative area (Little Mormonville situated just south of Baptismal Fount) and that that kind of clothing was inappropriate. Pauline said she had not bought her any of the clothes she brought, so I'm assuming that her charming daddy did. She hasn't been living with Pauline but for a few weeks, so that's the most likely.
Overall, I thought that I chose a pretty tactful way to say, "Hey, you're my 15 year old niece and you look like a tramp!"
Mike and I are cashing out stock options that have gone from being worth 15 to 40 bucks per share (in 3 months) to have extra cash. We both feel that she's had so little for so long that we are happy to find a way to give her something. We just keep telling ourselves that he can use the employee stock purchase plan to recover some of this and because the stock just split, it won't kill us nearly as much. *sigh* I'm putting her in an art class because one of the kids at the Christian youth group made aspersions about her heritage, claiming that he was just making a joke. I didn't find it funny and she was hurt by it, so I'm taking her to the library at will and she'll be taking this drawing class once a week while she's here because drawing is something she loves to do. Her mom is coming up next week to visit, so we'll all go to the local water park with the kids and hang. I might look into something else, but I'll see how happy she is and go from there.
She's been heavy on the guilt trip with her mom, but Pauline is hanging in there and not giving in because she told her "Too bad, you're going to have to stay." I've assured her that we're spoiling A rotten and while A whines about missing her friends, she's enjoying herself anyhow. She's tried pushing on the phone privileges, which I cut up short when she and I both knew she'd exceeded her limits. Mike was very clear with me about what was okay with him and what wasn't, so I've held the line fiercely. We were going to drive her home for an eye appointment and then I realized she was doing stuff that made it clear that she planned on making a run for it when we got back. I talked to her mom and we agreed that perhaps she just needed to wait on that eye appointment, but I also scratched my cornea with a drop of bacon grease, so I think it was all God's will. Everything for a reason.
The only real bummer is that a strange girl called on her boyfriend's cell and hung up on us one morning a half dozen times and finally demanded to know who I was and I identified myself and she hung up. Suffice it to say that we don't think the BF is keeping his nose clean despite the fact that he declared that "I think I love you." to her before they left. However, give this girl credit, she said that,"Hey, I've only known you 6 months, so I don't know if I love you or not." He was nonetheless unamused, apparently such that he can't keep it in his pants. Teenagers!
To follow up on the bacon grease, I saw the doctor yesterday and he said it was healed, so I'm good. No worries. I've gained weight, but I found out that there's a spa pool I could go work out in mornings. My biggest complaint with working out in water in winter is that it's cold, so now, I've got no excuses. I am going to start bolting for an hour or so mornings so I can get some working out time in there. It feels wonderful on my arthritis, and the weight loss would be lovely for my self esteem and diabetes. I got on a scale at the doctor and while it wasn't pretty, it wasn't as bad as I thought either.
Tomorrow morning, I'll be the big fat broad hauling my butt to the spa pool at the buttcrack of dawn. I figure a significant reduction of my buttcrack is a small price to pay for the lack of sleep.
Tuesday, June 24, 2003
I guess I have always been one of those people who would sooner kill someone than have someone I love suffer.
I have a lot of suffering loved ones around me right now and that makes me sad. And no, I'm not really going to go out and kill someone, but lately that thought has crossed my mind.
I can't believe I bought that SOB a nice dinner once.
I have a lot of suffering loved ones around me right now and that makes me sad. And no, I'm not really going to go out and kill someone, but lately that thought has crossed my mind.
I can't believe I bought that SOB a nice dinner once.
Monday, June 23, 2003
I got the girl on Friday.
God, I'm old.
I feel appalled by a 15 year old who knows what kind of beer she likes and mentions that between her pregnant friend and her, she was sure she'd be the first to get pregnant.
Winnie the FlippinPooh, what?
She's kind of on limitations...no phone calls except to her mom, and no one else for a week.
We changed the phone bill to be a standard charge for all calls and I'm keeping her busy doing stuff. It's just hard. I feel like things should be much more exciting. And they're not.
Today we did get thunderstorms for most of the day and a fair amount of rain with snow on the mountains. First week of summer, my big white buttochs.
I'm feeling overwhelmed by teenagerhood. I'm glad Bear's just in puberty. It's not as tenuous.
God, I'm old.
I feel appalled by a 15 year old who knows what kind of beer she likes and mentions that between her pregnant friend and her, she was sure she'd be the first to get pregnant.
Winnie the FlippinPooh, what?
She's kind of on limitations...no phone calls except to her mom, and no one else for a week.
We changed the phone bill to be a standard charge for all calls and I'm keeping her busy doing stuff. It's just hard. I feel like things should be much more exciting. And they're not.
Today we did get thunderstorms for most of the day and a fair amount of rain with snow on the mountains. First week of summer, my big white buttochs.
I'm feeling overwhelmed by teenagerhood. I'm glad Bear's just in puberty. It's not as tenuous.
Thursday, June 19, 2003
Well, after much back and forth with Pauline and her daugher, I'm going to go pick up her daughter (A) on Friday because Pauline has the day off and it works out best for me to do that. She's going to stay until August, but after talking with her daughter, I'm feeling better about it.
She's apparently having friend trouble and Pauline is worried about her getting into some kind of cat fight thing and going back to Juvenile Hall. A's been getting a lot of shit that resembles Mexican girl gang material and Pauline thinks that just removing her daughter from the situation will defuse it. I think it will help and it would be nice to have help this summer with the kids and getting the house together. One thing I'd like to do is finish the painting and I could do that if someone kept an eye on Genny for me. The drag is that A needs glasses because her dad never bothered to get the ones they left at a doctor's office for reference and never bothered to get her new ones even though she has insurance. I'm going to have to fill out paperwork for Medicaid for her while she's here. I wish we could just cover her under Mike's insurance, but his company probably won't cover that.
She's apparently having friend trouble and Pauline is worried about her getting into some kind of cat fight thing and going back to Juvenile Hall. A's been getting a lot of shit that resembles Mexican girl gang material and Pauline thinks that just removing her daughter from the situation will defuse it. I think it will help and it would be nice to have help this summer with the kids and getting the house together. One thing I'd like to do is finish the painting and I could do that if someone kept an eye on Genny for me. The drag is that A needs glasses because her dad never bothered to get the ones they left at a doctor's office for reference and never bothered to get her new ones even though she has insurance. I'm going to have to fill out paperwork for Medicaid for her while she's here. I wish we could just cover her under Mike's insurance, but his company probably won't cover that.
Monday, June 16, 2003
After posting despondently on my kids's list, I got a lot of great suggestions, so the boy and I sat down and made a schedule. We have a schedule for most of the summer, including swim lessons, visit to museums, water parks, see movies, go to the big local lake, take small hikes, etc. We have stuff planned for the summer, such that when I got to the week of August 19th, when I start my grad assistantship, Russell groaned in disappointment at the prospect of me going back to work -- totally cool that my 9 year old thinks it's cool to hang out with Mom.
The library has cool stuff going on on Thursday evenings, so I library day will be then, which will work nicely around their swimming lesson schedules.
---
Lately, I've been wondering about Pauline. I wondered why I hadn't heard from her, assumed she must be getting laid, and thought about calling her, but then got busy.
This weekend I got a message from her, so I called her back and left a message. Then she phone-tagged me back today, and I called her and caught her. Her sons have grown up and moved out and her daughter had been living with her father, Pauline's ex-something. The middle boy had had an altercation, where he defended himself against getting hit by his father and then his father called the cops, had the kid dumped into Juvenile Hall for assaulting him. The kid got a slap on the wrist and went and lived with Pauline afterwards. Her daughter, however, has stayed with Daddy because he turns a blind eye to her doing whatever her teenage head dreamed up. Well, finally, dad decided to hit his daughter and when the girl stood up to him and fought back, he tried the same routine and had her in Juvenile Hall for three weeks. When it came to court, however, he had the same judge, who looked at him and said,"One kid maybe, but two kids can't be bad. You're the one common denominator" and the judge tossed the case out. However, apparently, despite the fact that she's living with her mom and social services has designated her with some kind of numbering that means they understand that her custody is in limbo, her custody is still with the father.
Enter Pauline's phone call. Pauline works nights and she can't keep on top of a willful horny 15 year old with problems. Apparently, she ran up Pauline's phone bill several hundred $ calling much older males in the Bay Area. Pauline is struggling as it is, so an extravagant phone bill is a ball breaker. so she's asked Mike and I to take her for a month until she can get a week's vacation and spend time setting up a schedule and the like with the girl. She said she needs a break. At first, she'd said a couple weeks, but when I questioned her further, she really meant 5 weeks. *sigh*
I love this kid, but I haven't spent any time around her for nearly 3 years. I know she's been a spoiled little brat for a long time and that Pauline is hoping I'll blow money we don't have on this kid, but I can't. We're on a different budget without me working. What we said is that we'd take it a day at a time with her. I said if things were going well, she could stay, but that if things starting going funky, we'd ship her back to Pauline.
I'm very concerned about the custody issues, so I'm placing calls to the county social services department where they are from and seeing what I can find out as to what I need to do to protect myself and still let this kid come to "summer camp" on the farm. The biggest fear I have in the back of my mind is that Pauline is planning on ditching her daughter with us. I am not averse to caring for any child, but my feeling is that Pauline needs to face the music and the needs of her child because I won't be party to her breaking her kid's heart.
The library has cool stuff going on on Thursday evenings, so I library day will be then, which will work nicely around their swimming lesson schedules.
---
Lately, I've been wondering about Pauline. I wondered why I hadn't heard from her, assumed she must be getting laid, and thought about calling her, but then got busy.
This weekend I got a message from her, so I called her back and left a message. Then she phone-tagged me back today, and I called her and caught her. Her sons have grown up and moved out and her daughter had been living with her father, Pauline's ex-something. The middle boy had had an altercation, where he defended himself against getting hit by his father and then his father called the cops, had the kid dumped into Juvenile Hall for assaulting him. The kid got a slap on the wrist and went and lived with Pauline afterwards. Her daughter, however, has stayed with Daddy because he turns a blind eye to her doing whatever her teenage head dreamed up. Well, finally, dad decided to hit his daughter and when the girl stood up to him and fought back, he tried the same routine and had her in Juvenile Hall for three weeks. When it came to court, however, he had the same judge, who looked at him and said,"One kid maybe, but two kids can't be bad. You're the one common denominator" and the judge tossed the case out. However, apparently, despite the fact that she's living with her mom and social services has designated her with some kind of numbering that means they understand that her custody is in limbo, her custody is still with the father.
Enter Pauline's phone call. Pauline works nights and she can't keep on top of a willful horny 15 year old with problems. Apparently, she ran up Pauline's phone bill several hundred $ calling much older males in the Bay Area. Pauline is struggling as it is, so an extravagant phone bill is a ball breaker. so she's asked Mike and I to take her for a month until she can get a week's vacation and spend time setting up a schedule and the like with the girl. She said she needs a break. At first, she'd said a couple weeks, but when I questioned her further, she really meant 5 weeks. *sigh*
I love this kid, but I haven't spent any time around her for nearly 3 years. I know she's been a spoiled little brat for a long time and that Pauline is hoping I'll blow money we don't have on this kid, but I can't. We're on a different budget without me working. What we said is that we'd take it a day at a time with her. I said if things were going well, she could stay, but that if things starting going funky, we'd ship her back to Pauline.
I'm very concerned about the custody issues, so I'm placing calls to the county social services department where they are from and seeing what I can find out as to what I need to do to protect myself and still let this kid come to "summer camp" on the farm. The biggest fear I have in the back of my mind is that Pauline is planning on ditching her daughter with us. I am not averse to caring for any child, but my feeling is that Pauline needs to face the music and the needs of her child because I won't be party to her breaking her kid's heart.
Thursday, June 12, 2003
I've never been a stay-at-home (SAH) mom before. I've always worked. While I've worked at home in the past year or two, it's not the same because I still have someone there watching and playing with the kids while I do my work.
I've been feeling really stressed out because I simply don't know what to do with the kids. It's kind of like one big weekend all the time. I get to sleep in with them and we snuggle and giggle in bed, make and eat breakfast together and then what? On the weekends, Mike and I are cleaning, washing, and doing house stuff one day, typically, and then the other, we screw around, watch TV, go out to a movie, or play miniature golf or something. I am having a hard time figuring out how I am supposed to get house stuff done, and still keep track of kids, without them being bored senseless in the process somewhere.
I had all of these dreams of doing a load of laundry every day, but as usual, I've got a basket of folded, but not put away stuff sitting in my room and barrels upon barrels out in the garage to get done.
I feel inept at this whole SAH thing. Russell is delighted and he loves to have the time with me, even if he has been fighting me over every little stinking damned thing -- med transitions suck. Today, after I'd come >< close to strangling him, I made him go into his room, lay on his bed and close his eyes for "at least one hour." 1.5 hours later, he came out and was as nice as pie to me. I guess I called it.
Part of the problem today is that I had to get Russell up to town for a haircut and a dentist appointment, so I got out of the house without my meds and that just made for a lot more foggybrainedness than perhaps was necessary.
Tomorrow, I start walking with the kids every day. It'll be good for all of us.
I've been feeling really stressed out because I simply don't know what to do with the kids. It's kind of like one big weekend all the time. I get to sleep in with them and we snuggle and giggle in bed, make and eat breakfast together and then what? On the weekends, Mike and I are cleaning, washing, and doing house stuff one day, typically, and then the other, we screw around, watch TV, go out to a movie, or play miniature golf or something. I am having a hard time figuring out how I am supposed to get house stuff done, and still keep track of kids, without them being bored senseless in the process somewhere.
I had all of these dreams of doing a load of laundry every day, but as usual, I've got a basket of folded, but not put away stuff sitting in my room and barrels upon barrels out in the garage to get done.
I feel inept at this whole SAH thing. Russell is delighted and he loves to have the time with me, even if he has been fighting me over every little stinking damned thing -- med transitions suck. Today, after I'd come >< close to strangling him, I made him go into his room, lay on his bed and close his eyes for "at least one hour." 1.5 hours later, he came out and was as nice as pie to me. I guess I called it.
Part of the problem today is that I had to get Russell up to town for a haircut and a dentist appointment, so I got out of the house without my meds and that just made for a lot more foggybrainedness than perhaps was necessary.
Tomorrow, I start walking with the kids every day. It'll be good for all of us.
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
My darling boy was getting too much medication, apparently, so we are backing off his ritalin a bit and adding in some strattera, which was a prozac knockoff that didn't work for most folks. Then they discovered that it worked in ADHD people. Unfortunately, it does little for focus, but does help behavioral issues wonderfully. My doctor says that a combo of the two is believed to be the future of ADHD meds. Oh, yay. More drugs.
I really wish I could just take him off the meds and have him be something other than a raging psycho. Because when he doesn't take the meds, that's what he is. And mind you, I love him and think he's an adorable little boy with gorgeous big brown eyes, and about the smartest kid on the planet, but I know what he's like when he doesn't take his meds, and honestly, you wouldn't know him when he's without meds.
I keep trying to tell myself that I could weather it through...just take him off the meds and use alternative means, but it would mean a lot of suffering for all of us. I finally came to the conclusion that medication sometimes is to reduce suffering. I remember back when he was grounded all the time in the days before meds. And I wasn't mean and I didn't spank him, but I had to do something, so he lost privileges. Now, he gets grounded only for a day at a time once in a great while -- not the months and months that it used to be. In order to take him off meds, I'd have to take away things he likes: the TV, the Gameboy, the computer, and movies. I don't want to take away things he likes and cares about. He likes how he is in control when he takes the meds. Sometimes he thinks the meds are what make him. I keep explaining that they are just a tool for him to use to figure out the person he would like to become.
He likes that idea. Honestly, so do I.
I really wish I could just take him off the meds and have him be something other than a raging psycho. Because when he doesn't take the meds, that's what he is. And mind you, I love him and think he's an adorable little boy with gorgeous big brown eyes, and about the smartest kid on the planet, but I know what he's like when he doesn't take his meds, and honestly, you wouldn't know him when he's without meds.
I keep trying to tell myself that I could weather it through...just take him off the meds and use alternative means, but it would mean a lot of suffering for all of us. I finally came to the conclusion that medication sometimes is to reduce suffering. I remember back when he was grounded all the time in the days before meds. And I wasn't mean and I didn't spank him, but I had to do something, so he lost privileges. Now, he gets grounded only for a day at a time once in a great while -- not the months and months that it used to be. In order to take him off meds, I'd have to take away things he likes: the TV, the Gameboy, the computer, and movies. I don't want to take away things he likes and cares about. He likes how he is in control when he takes the meds. Sometimes he thinks the meds are what make him. I keep explaining that they are just a tool for him to use to figure out the person he would like to become.
He likes that idea. Honestly, so do I.
Sunday, June 08, 2003
Okay, so I've had a week off from painting and now, I'm all feeling ready to hump a paint can again. What's up with that? I told Mike that and while he promised not to laugh, I don't think I've seen a look of that large dose of disdain in some time. It bordered on the "just how fucking crazy are you, woman?" look.
I have all but the kids' bathroom and the kitchen done. I have this idea in my head to paint the kids' bathroom white and sponge bright yellow over it, which would actually be kind of neat. It'll bright and cheery in a room with no window.
We bought a pool this week and I kept telling Mike that it needed to be on a flat surface and it's slopping heavily to one side, and we found what appears to be a nail trying to poke through the bottom of it. So we're watering the garden with it and then we'll relevel things. Mike wants desperately to put everything on cement. Cement is expensive, I've tried to explain, but then we're both in do-it-yourself mode and have delusions of gradeur about figuring it out and having this wonderful cement surface which would surround the pool and allow for sunning and make the sand elsewhere. But of course, he thought if we didn't use chlorine that the filter would take care of things. Today he saw all the clouding and realized the error of his ways and so we're watering.
Often, lately, in the course of watering, I've been finding lizards. And usually I think lizards are pretty cute and stuff, but these are pretty good sized and they give me the willies a little. I try not to let on about that to Russell because if I gave him the faintest reason to suspect that they freak me out, he'd be more freaky-deaky about things that crawl and bite and squirm than usual. I swear -- today we were floundering about in the pool and Russell said something about a snake. I playfully slid a styrofoam noodle by his shoulder and told him to watch out for the snake and he jumped three feet into the air.
I don't like snakes, but I just back away and that's that. He actively worries about coming across his next snake. *sigh*
I have all but the kids' bathroom and the kitchen done. I have this idea in my head to paint the kids' bathroom white and sponge bright yellow over it, which would actually be kind of neat. It'll bright and cheery in a room with no window.
We bought a pool this week and I kept telling Mike that it needed to be on a flat surface and it's slopping heavily to one side, and we found what appears to be a nail trying to poke through the bottom of it. So we're watering the garden with it and then we'll relevel things. Mike wants desperately to put everything on cement. Cement is expensive, I've tried to explain, but then we're both in do-it-yourself mode and have delusions of gradeur about figuring it out and having this wonderful cement surface which would surround the pool and allow for sunning and make the sand elsewhere. But of course, he thought if we didn't use chlorine that the filter would take care of things. Today he saw all the clouding and realized the error of his ways and so we're watering.
Often, lately, in the course of watering, I've been finding lizards. And usually I think lizards are pretty cute and stuff, but these are pretty good sized and they give me the willies a little. I try not to let on about that to Russell because if I gave him the faintest reason to suspect that they freak me out, he'd be more freaky-deaky about things that crawl and bite and squirm than usual. I swear -- today we were floundering about in the pool and Russell said something about a snake. I playfully slid a styrofoam noodle by his shoulder and told him to watch out for the snake and he jumped three feet into the air.
I don't like snakes, but I just back away and that's that. He actively worries about coming across his next snake. *sigh*
Thursday, June 05, 2003
Harsh Betty sent me five questions for an early Friday five familiar.
- Name something which you spent a lot of time doing / dealing with /
experiencing a year ago, but it's no longer a big part of your life today.
Having, maintaining, dealing with a JOB, in particular a job I totally hated with every fiber, molecule, atom, and subatomic structure of my being. I get up for myself, for my kids, for my husband, for my house, for my own selfish and nefarious purposes. I water my plants, feed my chickens, feed my kids, take a shower, have sex with my husband, and I LOVE it! No, and I don't just mean the sex, though that's definitely fun.
- Name one thing you regret doing, and another that you regret *not*
doing.
I dunno. I guess I feel like regret is a guilt trip I choose not to take most of the time. I regret leaving New England sometimes. I miss my family -- my parents, brother, and grandparents and assorted family live there and I miss them a lot. I regret not sticking to my exercise plan. It has really sucked to do the yo-yo weight thing. A lot. I'm changing that, but it's an ongoing battle and I hate that.
- Was there anybody other than a member of your immediate family who had a
big influence on you when you were a kid? Who was it, and how did they
influence you?
Mrs. Barbara Cohen, my 12th grade English teacher. She encouraged me in my writing and was the sole reason I majored in English. Ever. Or even showed another soul on the entire planet my poetry and writing. She is the reason I consider myself a writer now. I loved her, her class, and while she was considered a battleaxe by some, I adored her because she empowered me.
- What, for you, didn't live up to all the hype?
Star Wars, Episode 2. Could it have been any more schmarmy? Yeesh!
- What's the best thing, within reason, that could happen with the rest of
the day? (obviously it would be great to find out you'd won a $100 million
lottery, had accidentally cured cancer and perfected cold fusion, and Kevin
Costner is on his way over with a bottle of champagne and another of massage
oil ... but be a little more realistic, ok?)
That the house would become spotless, the shelving installed appropriately, the fridge cleaned so that the smell went away, the kitchen cleaned with decorations hung, the pool filled without depleting the well, and my room and bathroom cleared of boxes --unpacked or not, and that despite their chaotic, destructive tendencies, the children would not fight like cats and dogs nor thrash my clean house.. Oh, and that my husband would use the massager to rub my shoulders and back at days's end as foreplay to foreplay.
I'm betting I'll get everything except the kids fighting and thrashing.
My darling son is so smart and wonderful and such a hard worker. I don't say this because I'm biased, though I am. I say this because he just made honor roll with a 3.42. He is so thrilled and I am thrilled blind for him.
It's amazing when you finally see them winning. He's happy and I am delirious to watch him.
It's amazing when you finally see them winning. He's happy and I am delirious to watch him.
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
I painted the bathroom over the weekend. I'd started it last week with kind of a light olive green thinking it would be okay, but it was too dark and icky. So I sponged light blue over it from the Oops! paint from Home Depot and now it looks amazing. We also bought a two bulb light instead of retaining the 8 bulb vanity energy wasting bar of death and now I have the most amazing looking bathroom. Mike's started taping the kitchen, which means that I should paint it. I realize that sounds insane, but think Field of Dreams,"If you build it they will come" but more like "If you tape it, she will paint" and you've got it.
I have a fortune in garden plants sitting in the driveway. I started planting my garden by laying out the marigolds and the fucking wild bunnies have been eating them. I'm going to get me a big ass bunny trap and catch me some bunnies and then drop them off in nearby state park land, where I hope they get eaten by coyotes. Bastards. I never thought bunnies would touch marigolds...I mean, nothing will. I even buried them in blood meal and I saw the buck-toothed varmit eating them yesterday. To be fair, he looked very skinny, but I think I'm going to trap him and release him on state park land a mile or two away. I just hope bunnies aren't like cats and that this little SOB doesn't find his way home.
The housewarming party is this weekend. I think I finally have a handle on Genny's room. The problem is that there is this big box of crap in her room that she would mostly never miss if it were to say...um...mysteriously disappear into the big garbage can in the sky. Stuff like Happy Meal toys, baby plastic beads, etc. In fact, most of it would be better to be given to goodwill than returned to her room, so I'm going to work something out with Mike, so that this box of crap just disappears back into the garage or something. We'll sort through it when she's in bed and retain the good stuff and put the rest in a box for goodwill.
Russell's room needs shelves. Well, Russell just needs something. We increased his meds a little, but he's been truly awful lately -- forgetful, can't follow directions, needing things repeated 20 times, etc. I do not want to call the doctor and say that he needs a meds increase, but lord, he needs something because he's just not himself. The truly telltale sign is that his room isn't just messy, it's completely and totally thrashed. I told him he couldn't play gameboy or watch TV until his room was clean. Ugh.
I'm still tired...way tired, but Mike's been really supportive (and horny) about letting me sleep (after sex). He's done dishes (after being nagged to death) and has been really super (grumpy and curmudgeonly) about going to Home Depot to get materials and make repairs.
I have a fortune in garden plants sitting in the driveway. I started planting my garden by laying out the marigolds and the fucking wild bunnies have been eating them. I'm going to get me a big ass bunny trap and catch me some bunnies and then drop them off in nearby state park land, where I hope they get eaten by coyotes. Bastards. I never thought bunnies would touch marigolds...I mean, nothing will. I even buried them in blood meal and I saw the buck-toothed varmit eating them yesterday. To be fair, he looked very skinny, but I think I'm going to trap him and release him on state park land a mile or two away. I just hope bunnies aren't like cats and that this little SOB doesn't find his way home.
The housewarming party is this weekend. I think I finally have a handle on Genny's room. The problem is that there is this big box of crap in her room that she would mostly never miss if it were to say...um...mysteriously disappear into the big garbage can in the sky. Stuff like Happy Meal toys, baby plastic beads, etc. In fact, most of it would be better to be given to goodwill than returned to her room, so I'm going to work something out with Mike, so that this box of crap just disappears back into the garage or something. We'll sort through it when she's in bed and retain the good stuff and put the rest in a box for goodwill.
Russell's room needs shelves. Well, Russell just needs something. We increased his meds a little, but he's been truly awful lately -- forgetful, can't follow directions, needing things repeated 20 times, etc. I do not want to call the doctor and say that he needs a meds increase, but lord, he needs something because he's just not himself. The truly telltale sign is that his room isn't just messy, it's completely and totally thrashed. I told him he couldn't play gameboy or watch TV until his room was clean. Ugh.
I'm still tired...way tired, but Mike's been really supportive (and horny) about letting me sleep (after sex). He's done dishes (after being nagged to death) and has been really super (grumpy and curmudgeonly) about going to Home Depot to get materials and make repairs.
Wednesday, May 28, 2003
I am way tired, after painting three bedrooms, the hallway, and the large livingroom (with 10' walls)and we never really had spring, but have gone straight to summer with temps in the 80's and 90's with a week of transition in the 70's.
My ankles balloon ankles -- usually indicative of my diabetes going straight to hell are deflated. While my sugars were bad, my doctor told me to take some time off and loaf a little. So I laid off the painting and am working on my gardens. I've got the front flower bed nearly half weeded and got the garden tilled and weeded. I've put in my perimeter of marigolds, as well as have already purchased peppers and tomatoes. I'm going to have to start corn separately to keep the birds out of the seedlings and wait a bit to transplant. The really good news is that my sugars have come down and I'm feeling better, and the swelling is down, too. The only bitch about gardening instead of painting is that my pale white freckly Irish skin is now red and heavily freckled and there's just not enough aloe vera with lidocaine for me.
I think Rupert the hen is actually possibly a rooster because the animal looks a lot more red and jowly and bigger-combed than the other birds. That may be a function of her species, but it may also be gender. Only time will tell. She looks lots better these days and is getting feathers. The other birds are getting huge and the little puffballs are now about the size that their older counterparts were when I got them with the feathers coming in. Last night, I smelled our neighborhood skunk go down and check out the henhouse, but thankfully, nothing startled it into spraying again last night.
For his birthday, I got Mike these little grown up walkie talkies and he just loves them. Last night, because my husband is insane, he was crawling around under the house trying to install cable in our bedroom and we were flirting over the walkie talkies. He finally got it all installed and now, I'm here writing because my computer is on the net again.
My ankles balloon ankles -- usually indicative of my diabetes going straight to hell are deflated. While my sugars were bad, my doctor told me to take some time off and loaf a little. So I laid off the painting and am working on my gardens. I've got the front flower bed nearly half weeded and got the garden tilled and weeded. I've put in my perimeter of marigolds, as well as have already purchased peppers and tomatoes. I'm going to have to start corn separately to keep the birds out of the seedlings and wait a bit to transplant. The really good news is that my sugars have come down and I'm feeling better, and the swelling is down, too. The only bitch about gardening instead of painting is that my pale white freckly Irish skin is now red and heavily freckled and there's just not enough aloe vera with lidocaine for me.
I think Rupert the hen is actually possibly a rooster because the animal looks a lot more red and jowly and bigger-combed than the other birds. That may be a function of her species, but it may also be gender. Only time will tell. She looks lots better these days and is getting feathers. The other birds are getting huge and the little puffballs are now about the size that their older counterparts were when I got them with the feathers coming in. Last night, I smelled our neighborhood skunk go down and check out the henhouse, but thankfully, nothing startled it into spraying again last night.
For his birthday, I got Mike these little grown up walkie talkies and he just loves them. Last night, because my husband is insane, he was crawling around under the house trying to install cable in our bedroom and we were flirting over the walkie talkies. He finally got it all installed and now, I'm here writing because my computer is on the net again.
Monday, May 19, 2003
Well, the room is painted and moved into. I just got the hallway done and I've got sizeable wall portions done in the livingroom.
My diabetes has been a pain in the ass lately. Actually, it's been kicking my ass. I thought I had been doing okay, but Saturday I got a little low without realizing it and when I went to open a bar to eat something, my hands were shaking like a leaf. And I've been so tired. Lord, bone tired. So I finally found a blood kit and discovered that my sugars have been a little high, as well as low -- this morning was 123, which is high for me. And I have been waking up all puffy...hands swollen, face swollen, and elephant ankles. This morning I took a half hour walk and ate fruit and cottage cheese and while I don't feel great, I feel better.
I am working on a corner of the livingroom, so I have to tape and paint accordingly. The only bitch about pretty open beams is that you have to tape to avoid painting the danged things.
Rupert is in her own cage with a little bit of antibiotic in her water, so she feels better, because when I picked her up out of the coop, she not only is rather featherless, but she also had a bright red butt, like she'd been suffering from some kind of poultry malady. Her feathers are already starting to come back, her butt is no longer aglow, and generally she seems happy. She's hanging out with the puffball baby chickens through the screen. They are sharing the warming lamp and cuddling next to each other at night, so it's all good.
The older chickens are getting huge. I need to put together nesting boxes for them to lay in, but I also have to rototill the yard and finish the painting. The fun never ends, I tell ya.
My diabetes has been a pain in the ass lately. Actually, it's been kicking my ass. I thought I had been doing okay, but Saturday I got a little low without realizing it and when I went to open a bar to eat something, my hands were shaking like a leaf. And I've been so tired. Lord, bone tired. So I finally found a blood kit and discovered that my sugars have been a little high, as well as low -- this morning was 123, which is high for me. And I have been waking up all puffy...hands swollen, face swollen, and elephant ankles. This morning I took a half hour walk and ate fruit and cottage cheese and while I don't feel great, I feel better.
I am working on a corner of the livingroom, so I have to tape and paint accordingly. The only bitch about pretty open beams is that you have to tape to avoid painting the danged things.
Rupert is in her own cage with a little bit of antibiotic in her water, so she feels better, because when I picked her up out of the coop, she not only is rather featherless, but she also had a bright red butt, like she'd been suffering from some kind of poultry malady. Her feathers are already starting to come back, her butt is no longer aglow, and generally she seems happy. She's hanging out with the puffball baby chickens through the screen. They are sharing the warming lamp and cuddling next to each other at night, so it's all good.
The older chickens are getting huge. I need to put together nesting boxes for them to lay in, but I also have to rototill the yard and finish the painting. The fun never ends, I tell ya.
Thursday, May 15, 2003
Well, this is the story of Rupert the Runt. Rupert is a sad little hen-to-be who has literally been henpecked a lot. Her shoulders and mid-back are all bare and her sister hens are the apparent culprits. I took Rupert out of the general population and gave her her own place to live for a while, until she gets a lot bigger and feathered.
I had watched the other chickens picking on her and kicking her out of the food and water dishes with a well placed nudge or wing flip. She runs faster than all get out, but the reasons why are kind of sad. I picked her up and she was squawking a bit at first, and then I was gently petting her and she became quiet, kind of settled into my hand, and if pullets could purr, she'd have been purring.
Last night, the coyotes found the henhouse and were whooping it up at 2AM. I was worried about the chicks, so I asked Mike if he'd come out with me and just check on them. I was wearing my flannel nightgown and he put on his robe and we wandered out there and they were fine. While we didn't hear from the coyotes again, I had a hard time getting back to sleep. I got up with the kids and once Russell was off to school, I went back to bed and slept until 10. It was lovely and beautiful and wickedly delicious.
Today, my penance was that I got most of our bedroom painted. I mixed a dark goldenrod and a light yellow, which made a beautiful butterscotch. I only missed a small place and that's because the mirror doors are too heavy to lift by myself. Mike's going to help me move those tonight, and we'll finish it. The only thing that will be left is the red trim in the room, which I'll finish tomorrow. Then I'm going to start moving stuff in. I'm not worrying heavily about the bathrooms because they'll be fast, so I'm going to rip down the hall and into the livingroom, so we can get stuff moving. The hall will be quicker than spit, but the livingroom is going to take a lot of time to tape around everything. I'm hoping that we can get the livingroom taped this weekend, but I'm not holding my breath. Mike's birthday is this weekend, so I'm not sure how much we'll get done in light of him hitting yet another year in that decade that many of us no longer know: the twenties. Lucky bastard!
I had watched the other chickens picking on her and kicking her out of the food and water dishes with a well placed nudge or wing flip. She runs faster than all get out, but the reasons why are kind of sad. I picked her up and she was squawking a bit at first, and then I was gently petting her and she became quiet, kind of settled into my hand, and if pullets could purr, she'd have been purring.
Last night, the coyotes found the henhouse and were whooping it up at 2AM. I was worried about the chicks, so I asked Mike if he'd come out with me and just check on them. I was wearing my flannel nightgown and he put on his robe and we wandered out there and they were fine. While we didn't hear from the coyotes again, I had a hard time getting back to sleep. I got up with the kids and once Russell was off to school, I went back to bed and slept until 10. It was lovely and beautiful and wickedly delicious.
Today, my penance was that I got most of our bedroom painted. I mixed a dark goldenrod and a light yellow, which made a beautiful butterscotch. I only missed a small place and that's because the mirror doors are too heavy to lift by myself. Mike's going to help me move those tonight, and we'll finish it. The only thing that will be left is the red trim in the room, which I'll finish tomorrow. Then I'm going to start moving stuff in. I'm not worrying heavily about the bathrooms because they'll be fast, so I'm going to rip down the hall and into the livingroom, so we can get stuff moving. The hall will be quicker than spit, but the livingroom is going to take a lot of time to tape around everything. I'm hoping that we can get the livingroom taped this weekend, but I'm not holding my breath. Mike's birthday is this weekend, so I'm not sure how much we'll get done in light of him hitting yet another year in that decade that many of us no longer know: the twenties. Lucky bastard!
Wednesday, May 14, 2003
Done. Totally and completely done. Final-ly DONE.
Last night, I put the adolescent chickens out in the chicken coop. To some degree it was because SPRING has finally show up here in the mountains. Spring had spent a little too much time humping Old Man Winter, but apparently, the old guy's getting tired, so Spring ditched him to turn on the heat, plant the flowers, and make it green. It was around 80 here yesterday -- absolutely wonderful. Last night, we had the window open and I was still hot. I think compared to winter, it is hot, not that it actually was hot.
Anyway, the chickens.
They were so funny. At first, of course, they all had a spazz peepfest out in the coop. *peep*Oh, my gosh *peep* you moved *peep* us. Then they started to really enjoy their new digs. They started scratching the dirt and pecking rather fervently at whatever attracts chickens, but one of them even got into the chicken scratch bowl and was scratching in there, happy as a...well, chicken. They would find pieces of hay and start to run from the other chickens thinking they had the best prize. Then they started flying around a little. Kind of spreading their wings and dashing at the air. (Stand not there, fair Rooster, for I shall joust at thee.) And then a couple just started to fluff out their feathers and hunker down. Very very sweet.
I was really worried the coyotes would come down whoop it up and scare them half to death, but not yet. I'm going to have to finish barricading them in there and I need to find a damned saw to saw the wood with to make a door and door frame. I know we have a saw, but it's really old, so I'm not sure of the quality thereof, but Mike can't find it, regardless. I personally think he's lobbying for power tools. Wait! This is MIKE! My bad.
And Mike and I both just kind of started realizing last night that if we don't put our room together soon, we're both going to start ripping all our hair out. The moral of the story is: don't screw with earth signs' home space.
Last night, I put the adolescent chickens out in the chicken coop. To some degree it was because SPRING has finally show up here in the mountains. Spring had spent a little too much time humping Old Man Winter, but apparently, the old guy's getting tired, so Spring ditched him to turn on the heat, plant the flowers, and make it green. It was around 80 here yesterday -- absolutely wonderful. Last night, we had the window open and I was still hot. I think compared to winter, it is hot, not that it actually was hot.
Anyway, the chickens.
They were so funny. At first, of course, they all had a spazz peepfest out in the coop. *peep*Oh, my gosh *peep* you moved *peep* us. Then they started to really enjoy their new digs. They started scratching the dirt and pecking rather fervently at whatever attracts chickens, but one of them even got into the chicken scratch bowl and was scratching in there, happy as a...well, chicken. They would find pieces of hay and start to run from the other chickens thinking they had the best prize. Then they started flying around a little. Kind of spreading their wings and dashing at the air. (Stand not there, fair Rooster, for I shall joust at thee.) And then a couple just started to fluff out their feathers and hunker down. Very very sweet.
I was really worried the coyotes would come down whoop it up and scare them half to death, but not yet. I'm going to have to finish barricading them in there and I need to find a damned saw to saw the wood with to make a door and door frame. I know we have a saw, but it's really old, so I'm not sure of the quality thereof, but Mike can't find it, regardless. I personally think he's lobbying for power tools. Wait! This is MIKE! My bad.
And Mike and I both just kind of started realizing last night that if we don't put our room together soon, we're both going to start ripping all our hair out. The moral of the story is: don't screw with earth signs' home space.
Monday, May 12, 2003
Two down and one to go.
I talked to the learning disabilities prof and told her I was sending the final via email sometime this evening because I had to format the references correctly, but that I was willing to send it as is to show that it was done. I also told her that I wasn't sure I was thrilled with it.
She said it was okay to take a little time and just to call her when it's done.
I think I'm going to sleep and then tackle reference formatting tomorrow.
I started to reread this today and realized it's actually in really good shape and I was pleased. It also made me realize that I should not proof or evaluate my work at 2AM.
I'm way bummed about Genny's dresser, though. I asked Mike and Russell to paint it yesterday and I'm going to have to scrape every ounce of paint off the thing and redo it because it looks like shit. Big gobs of paint just sort of dolloped on there with little attention to omitting brush lines or following wood grains. I am tired enough to be significantly pissed off about it.
And with as little sleep as I'm working on, I am angrier than hell at my husband. Remember that yesterday was Mother's Day? Mother's Day to me means I get a day off and that the minions in cooperation with Daddy avoid thrashing my house. Yeah, right! I am scraping things off the kitchen floor that I am not sure I can identify. The dishes in the sink have a weird odor, and what really pisses me off about all this is that Daddy sat on his ass for three hours doing nothing last night, except yelling at the kids.
As I scrubbed the filthy kitchen, I told him tonight if this is the kind of support I can expect in grad school that I won't go to grad school. Then I would resent him forever and eventually divorce him in disgust. I may be so tired as to be over the top, but I am soooo not confessing to it.
I talked to the learning disabilities prof and told her I was sending the final via email sometime this evening because I had to format the references correctly, but that I was willing to send it as is to show that it was done. I also told her that I wasn't sure I was thrilled with it.
She said it was okay to take a little time and just to call her when it's done.
I think I'm going to sleep and then tackle reference formatting tomorrow.
I started to reread this today and realized it's actually in really good shape and I was pleased. It also made me realize that I should not proof or evaluate my work at 2AM.
I'm way bummed about Genny's dresser, though. I asked Mike and Russell to paint it yesterday and I'm going to have to scrape every ounce of paint off the thing and redo it because it looks like shit. Big gobs of paint just sort of dolloped on there with little attention to omitting brush lines or following wood grains. I am tired enough to be significantly pissed off about it.
And with as little sleep as I'm working on, I am angrier than hell at my husband. Remember that yesterday was Mother's Day? Mother's Day to me means I get a day off and that the minions in cooperation with Daddy avoid thrashing my house. Yeah, right! I am scraping things off the kitchen floor that I am not sure I can identify. The dishes in the sink have a weird odor, and what really pisses me off about all this is that Daddy sat on his ass for three hours doing nothing last night, except yelling at the kids.
As I scrubbed the filthy kitchen, I told him tonight if this is the kind of support I can expect in grad school that I won't go to grad school. Then I would resent him forever and eventually divorce him in disgust. I may be so tired as to be over the top, but I am soooo not confessing to it.
Sunday, May 11, 2003
Tomorrow is the deadline of two finals. One of which I have halfway done and the other I've been thinking about and have half an outline to in my head.
When asked what I wanted for mother's day, I said I wanted them all to leave the house, so I can do my work. I've been doing it, but to no avail. I am feeling lost about the one topic.
I'm supposed to synthesize some reading and do it with a zinger at the end. My problem is that I want to save the world and I know exactly where I'd start and how I might do it, but that I don't have all the words for it. Well, that and someone else in the book wrote my damned essay, so now I have to reinvent the essay in my own words. I'm pitiful, I tell you.
I am of a mind that all children should be in the same classroom, regardless of abilities and that an adequate educational program should be inclusive of all those abilities. I am of a mind that instead of spending money on specialists if we spent money paying more than one teacher to manage a 30 pupil classroom that project-based classes could be developed in team situations with teachers and parents and children that would incorporate all skill levels and allow all students to experience a successful educational experience.
Call me crazy. Call me insane. That is just what I think. I think if we spent less money on specialists and more money on basic classroom strategies that allowed for things like "the instructional conversation" or an "educational dialog" that you could have all students be successful with little or no ostracism of people with learning or language differences.
Me and Thomas More...we're like peas in a pod. Utopia, baby, all the way!
When asked what I wanted for mother's day, I said I wanted them all to leave the house, so I can do my work. I've been doing it, but to no avail. I am feeling lost about the one topic.
I'm supposed to synthesize some reading and do it with a zinger at the end. My problem is that I want to save the world and I know exactly where I'd start and how I might do it, but that I don't have all the words for it. Well, that and someone else in the book wrote my damned essay, so now I have to reinvent the essay in my own words. I'm pitiful, I tell you.
I am of a mind that all children should be in the same classroom, regardless of abilities and that an adequate educational program should be inclusive of all those abilities. I am of a mind that instead of spending money on specialists if we spent money paying more than one teacher to manage a 30 pupil classroom that project-based classes could be developed in team situations with teachers and parents and children that would incorporate all skill levels and allow all students to experience a successful educational experience.
Call me crazy. Call me insane. That is just what I think. I think if we spent less money on specialists and more money on basic classroom strategies that allowed for things like "the instructional conversation" or an "educational dialog" that you could have all students be successful with little or no ostracism of people with learning or language differences.
Me and Thomas More...we're like peas in a pod. Utopia, baby, all the way!
Tuesday, May 06, 2003
I am one week away from being free from school til fall. I got a graduate assistantship, so I can actually pay for next year's schooling. I'm so excited! It seems like things are finally coming around for me.
I realized that I kind of set myself up...one of the profs I did a web page for hit me up for doing another one. I told him I wouldn't be free until next week, but I asked him if there was any money in it for me. He said he'd ask. The worst they could say is no, and I would still do the page. I just wouldn't do as MUCH of a page for them.
Over the weekend, I bought chicks. I have 18 adolescents that still have down on their heads, but feathers on their bodies and 12 little puffballs with the slightest bit of wing feather on them. I have them caged out in the garage with lamps. They stink to high heavens, but I think the adolescents are just about old enough to be moved to a chicken coop and roost which I don't have built yet. I'll have to finish all my schoolwork, but then I will be painting and cooping.
We had a thing with one of our neighbors. The guy renting the house across the street approached Mike about using our corral space to put his horse in. I guess originally he wanted to "borrow" our corral fencing. I told Mike no. That stuff is $50 a panel and there'd be no guarantee that we'd get it back, much less in one piece, and if he's just renting, he can rent panels cheaply. Then he wanted to know if he could board his horses here for "at least a month." I checked around and was told that $50/month per horse was more than reasonable. At first, we were considering it, but then the guy wanted to put them in the front area where my garden will be going in next week and the only way to the back corral is through the garden or over a step that I don't think would be good for a horse to attempt. And while at first I was willing, when he said "at least a month" I was afraid it would drag on. I guess he wants to corral them in an area that is near the owner's big shed and that area is currently full of big heavy construction piping and structural and that combined with his commentary and the total inconvenience just made it less palatable. It was inconvenient because we wouldn't be able to let Genny into the corral to play in the dirt because she'd be tempted to check out the horses. We wouldn't be able to put the kids' brand new swing set out in the corral either because it would be in the path of where the horse would be going back and forth. We talked and we both felt that if we had put the money together to own our own place that we ought to be able to do with it whatever we wanted.
So Mike and I went and told them that we really didn't want to do it. We explained that this was our first house and that we had plans for several of the places that he would have to use, if we were to board his horse. We offered to care for the horses in the summer when they were gone, which is something else he had asked about. His wife had a hissy and stammered something about how she didn't understand the problem because were were going charge them. Before I had gone and checked around to see if there were places listed on various community bulletin board for boarding horses and the lowest charge I found was $150/month per horse for what we were offering. All I could think is "yeah, and we weren't going to charge you MUCH!" I held my tongue, however. Then she rather abruptly shooed us out of the house.
WhatEver. It is our land, we should be able to do with it whatever we want. It's not like we're putting up a brothel in lieu of stables. I was pretty disgusted with her attitude because she was definitely of the opinion that we owed them something. In light of her attitude, I'm really happy we didn't because I think we would have been "owing" them a lot over time.
I feel like God showed me what I needed to see in this situation, certainly.
I realized that I kind of set myself up...one of the profs I did a web page for hit me up for doing another one. I told him I wouldn't be free until next week, but I asked him if there was any money in it for me. He said he'd ask. The worst they could say is no, and I would still do the page. I just wouldn't do as MUCH of a page for them.
Over the weekend, I bought chicks. I have 18 adolescents that still have down on their heads, but feathers on their bodies and 12 little puffballs with the slightest bit of wing feather on them. I have them caged out in the garage with lamps. They stink to high heavens, but I think the adolescents are just about old enough to be moved to a chicken coop and roost which I don't have built yet. I'll have to finish all my schoolwork, but then I will be painting and cooping.
We had a thing with one of our neighbors. The guy renting the house across the street approached Mike about using our corral space to put his horse in. I guess originally he wanted to "borrow" our corral fencing. I told Mike no. That stuff is $50 a panel and there'd be no guarantee that we'd get it back, much less in one piece, and if he's just renting, he can rent panels cheaply. Then he wanted to know if he could board his horses here for "at least a month." I checked around and was told that $50/month per horse was more than reasonable. At first, we were considering it, but then the guy wanted to put them in the front area where my garden will be going in next week and the only way to the back corral is through the garden or over a step that I don't think would be good for a horse to attempt. And while at first I was willing, when he said "at least a month" I was afraid it would drag on. I guess he wants to corral them in an area that is near the owner's big shed and that area is currently full of big heavy construction piping and structural and that combined with his commentary and the total inconvenience just made it less palatable. It was inconvenient because we wouldn't be able to let Genny into the corral to play in the dirt because she'd be tempted to check out the horses. We wouldn't be able to put the kids' brand new swing set out in the corral either because it would be in the path of where the horse would be going back and forth. We talked and we both felt that if we had put the money together to own our own place that we ought to be able to do with it whatever we wanted.
So Mike and I went and told them that we really didn't want to do it. We explained that this was our first house and that we had plans for several of the places that he would have to use, if we were to board his horse. We offered to care for the horses in the summer when they were gone, which is something else he had asked about. His wife had a hissy and stammered something about how she didn't understand the problem because were were going charge them. Before I had gone and checked around to see if there were places listed on various community bulletin board for boarding horses and the lowest charge I found was $150/month per horse for what we were offering. All I could think is "yeah, and we weren't going to charge you MUCH!" I held my tongue, however. Then she rather abruptly shooed us out of the house.
WhatEver. It is our land, we should be able to do with it whatever we want. It's not like we're putting up a brothel in lieu of stables. I was pretty disgusted with her attitude because she was definitely of the opinion that we owed them something. In light of her attitude, I'm really happy we didn't because I think we would have been "owing" them a lot over time.
I feel like God showed me what I needed to see in this situation, certainly.
Thursday, May 01, 2003
You know you're a redneck when...
Mother's day comes around and you don't want flowers, candy, candles, or a spa day, you want a garden tiller.
I would also like a spa day, but that would be after I use my new tiller. ;)
I am so far from unpacked, I'm feel like I'm moving backwards.
I am busy doing school work and I'd much rather be painting my room. It's sick and wrong I realize to prefer to paint one's room over the enthralling joy of writing lesson plans and synthesis papers, but what's a girl to do?
Mother's day comes around and you don't want flowers, candy, candles, or a spa day, you want a garden tiller.
I would also like a spa day, but that would be after I use my new tiller. ;)
I am so far from unpacked, I'm feel like I'm moving backwards.
I am busy doing school work and I'd much rather be painting my room. It's sick and wrong I realize to prefer to paint one's room over the enthralling joy of writing lesson plans and synthesis papers, but what's a girl to do?
Monday, April 28, 2003
I'm up to 7 pages on the ESL paper and I'm not even halfway done.
It's not that I'm particularly verbose. (Okay, I *am*.) It's just that this professor gives the impression that he wants you to dissect everything thoroughly. So here I am at 7 pages and not halfway through, wishing I could sleep, because Lord knows, that last night, I didn't sleep much at all, as I processed this stupid paper in my head. In retrospect, it might have been better to not have sought afternoon delight with my delicious husband and ground away at this paper, but he is way too yummy for that.
Tonight, I have my first graduate student meeting at the Uni, so I have to figure out if there is some way I can lose consciousness between 5-7 because from 4-5, I'll be resolving the issue of my enrollment. I was supposed to be enrolled in 6 units this semester and I was apparently enrolled by computer error in only 3. However, without 6 units in the system, I cannot get my in school deferment which I need for my loans. In addition, the uni wants to charge me for a class I never attended and which I added and dropped in the course of the same half hour. I'm having to get letters signed by the chair and people I don't know just to say that yes, I was in the ESL class and doing all the very fucking hard work and that No, I never attended the Trends in Special Education class.
The next week is the last week before finals, so naturally I have big nasty projects abounding for which I am responsible and while the room painting thing is calling to me, in a good angel/bad devil on my shoulder kinda way, I'm going to remain buried in schoolwork for the next week, at which point, I am simply going to send children to daycare for the day and sleep like a log.
Right now, I want and need some caffeine .... intravenously, please.
I am a slave to academia for the moment, which is good because in a week, I paint.
It's not that I'm particularly verbose. (Okay, I *am*.) It's just that this professor gives the impression that he wants you to dissect everything thoroughly. So here I am at 7 pages and not halfway through, wishing I could sleep, because Lord knows, that last night, I didn't sleep much at all, as I processed this stupid paper in my head. In retrospect, it might have been better to not have sought afternoon delight with my delicious husband and ground away at this paper, but he is way too yummy for that.
Tonight, I have my first graduate student meeting at the Uni, so I have to figure out if there is some way I can lose consciousness between 5-7 because from 4-5, I'll be resolving the issue of my enrollment. I was supposed to be enrolled in 6 units this semester and I was apparently enrolled by computer error in only 3. However, without 6 units in the system, I cannot get my in school deferment which I need for my loans. In addition, the uni wants to charge me for a class I never attended and which I added and dropped in the course of the same half hour. I'm having to get letters signed by the chair and people I don't know just to say that yes, I was in the ESL class and doing all the very fucking hard work and that No, I never attended the Trends in Special Education class.
The next week is the last week before finals, so naturally I have big nasty projects abounding for which I am responsible and while the room painting thing is calling to me, in a good angel/bad devil on my shoulder kinda way, I'm going to remain buried in schoolwork for the next week, at which point, I am simply going to send children to daycare for the day and sleep like a log.
Right now, I want and need some caffeine .... intravenously, please.
I am a slave to academia for the moment, which is good because in a week, I paint.
Sunday, April 27, 2003
I'm supposed to be working on the ESL paper, but I am faced with a clueless moment...is case work the same as writing process? I dunno. I don't care, and I need to care for about 3 more pages.
It's 1030 and I'm at the computer lab and freaking out about walking to my car at midnight. I'm old and female and that whole "Take Back the Night" thing only works when you're walking with others. I feel very apart as most of the students in the lab are about half my age.
I supposed that's enough distraction, so I'm back to beat my head on my original thought line about how process writing is antithetical to multiculturalism and is a perfectly lousy way to teach ESL students how to write, though I think you can have it both ways, but I can certainly see how project work is also very useful.
It's 1030 and I'm at the computer lab and freaking out about walking to my car at midnight. I'm old and female and that whole "Take Back the Night" thing only works when you're walking with others. I feel very apart as most of the students in the lab are about half my age.
I supposed that's enough distraction, so I'm back to beat my head on my original thought line about how process writing is antithetical to multiculturalism and is a perfectly lousy way to teach ESL students how to write, though I think you can have it both ways, but I can certainly see how project work is also very useful.
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Genny's room is nearly painted -- except for a couple of small spots under the tape. She was thrilled to see that it was pink. There was a lot of hunter green on the top of the room and on one wall, so I had to run to town to buy one more bucket of paint because even with the primer I had to use two coats. It's all done, thank GOD!
I don't think I'll be able to get to my room this weekend. I think it will depend on Mike's willingness to prep the room while I work on my paper for my ESL class and come up with a unit to teach. I picked colors for my bedroom at least, but I have to make one more stinking trip to town to get one of the colors because they didn't have the base they needed for the one I needed them to mix. I found one color in the Oops! pile and because I've been there so damned much, the guy gave it to me free.
Lately, I've been loving my doctor because he prescribed some vioxx for the agony. After painting all day, everything aches, but mostly my right shoulder is pinched and sore. Well, and I fall asleep in my chair.
I'm just pitiful is all, but lord, I'm well-decorated and drugged, oh and covered in three different colors of paint.
The best part of the painting is that I will never have to forget Mike wearing my pants...my girly pants covered in paint. Heh.
I don't think I'll be able to get to my room this weekend. I think it will depend on Mike's willingness to prep the room while I work on my paper for my ESL class and come up with a unit to teach. I picked colors for my bedroom at least, but I have to make one more stinking trip to town to get one of the colors because they didn't have the base they needed for the one I needed them to mix. I found one color in the Oops! pile and because I've been there so damned much, the guy gave it to me free.
Lately, I've been loving my doctor because he prescribed some vioxx for the agony. After painting all day, everything aches, but mostly my right shoulder is pinched and sore. Well, and I fall asleep in my chair.
I'm just pitiful is all, but lord, I'm well-decorated and drugged, oh and covered in three different colors of paint.
The best part of the painting is that I will never have to forget Mike wearing my pants...my girly pants covered in paint. Heh.
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
Remember the first of the year at Mike's mom's wedding? Well, I got the apology, albeit one of those, "I've apologized to you, won't you apologize to me" kind of apologies, to which I said,"I do appreciate your apology and I am sorry that you feel you should be apologized to. I felt that everything I said was in response to what was being said to me in an inappropriate circumstance, i.e., in front of my family, your family and people I don't even know after I had spent several hours in the emergency room in a great deal of pain. As far as I can see, I will not be putting myself nor my children in that position again."
What was really cool though was this was after my husband went swinging for me. He basically told his mom and stepfather that we wouldn't have much to do with them if they didn't apologize to his wife.
We're having his brother and girlfriend up for a post-graduation celebration, which I can't wait for. I love them both and he's the brother that got up mid-battle and said he wouldn't be a party to the "take down Wendy" fest, so he has a special fondness in my heart.
Nonetheless, my wonderful husband is getting a lot of affection for being such a great guy.
What was really cool though was this was after my husband went swinging for me. He basically told his mom and stepfather that we wouldn't have much to do with them if they didn't apologize to his wife.
We're having his brother and girlfriend up for a post-graduation celebration, which I can't wait for. I love them both and he's the brother that got up mid-battle and said he wouldn't be a party to the "take down Wendy" fest, so he has a special fondness in my heart.
Nonetheless, my wonderful husband is getting a lot of affection for being such a great guy.
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