Nagging Cough, the doctor will see you now...

Aren't the HIPPA laws a pain in the butt? (Ooh, poor choice of words as I will later reveal.) I mean with all the acknowledging that you've been read your rights and declining of literature at every single medical office or pharmacy you visit. Especially when it doesn't really seem to make much difference when they still call out patient's names when trying to protect our privacy.

On the other hand, aren't you glad they don't call you back by whatever aliment you are being seen for that particular day? Can you imagine...

"nagging cough, the doctor will see you now",

"heartburn and indigestion, you can go on back",

"thrombosed hemorrhoid, they're ready for you in the procedure room".

Uh - that last one...that would have been me today. Most people have never even heard of a thrombosed hemorrhoid let alone get one...TWICE! Yep, I am the freak of nature who can't seem to get enough of strangers holding my butt checks apart while my doctor cuts open a hemorrhoid and removes a blood clot. (My first adventure was when I was pregnant with Jace. If you missed out on that story, you can still check it out here.)

I put off that call all day because it is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO embarrassing. I finally couldn't take the pain anymore and luckily they could squeeze me in (no pun intended). Last time they asked me if I minded (is that a word) if the student nurse watched the procedure. I figured what the heck, the more the merrier, right?! But when I had my son at the doctor on Friday, they had a really cute male student and the only thing I kept thinking is that they were going to ask me the same thing this time. I just didn't think I could be on board for that. I was not feeling too good about the whole situation. I mean last time I could blame it on my pregnancy - hemorrhoids are common in pregnancy. What was my excuse this time? The fact that I still weigh as much as I did pregnant?! Yeah - that was something to feel good about. Luckily the student wasn't there today. Dodged a bullet there. My doctor did, however, ask me if I had any interest in seeing what he was removing. Hmmm - no, nah, nada! I wasn't feeling that either. It was all so depressing.

So, but I'm feeling better this evening. Thanks for asking. The hydrocodone (left over from some other "incident") and sitting on the pillow my son made in Home Ec are really helping. All the comforts of home!

Knock the Corn Mom

Knock the corn...sounds like some Iowa hick thing doesn't it? Like cow tipping or something. Nope - that is how Jace tells me to honk the horn. If we are waiting for someone to come out of a house or something, he says "knock the corn mom". It's so darn cute, you can't help but oblige. Who cares if it's a little rude to the person you are waiting for. Apparently they needed to hurry up anyway (haha).

Dude, your bedside manner SUCKS!

So today was the day that Jace was getting his tonsils and adenoids out. His surgery was at 8:15 am and we had to be there at 7:15 am. Get there right on time only to find out we were on the schedule for 10:30 am, not 8:15 am. I was holding in my hand the paperwork from the doctor's office that said procedure time: 8:15 am. Apparently his office changed the time (not once but twice) and NEVER notified us! I was pissed!!!!! Not that it mattered to the people at the surgical center. There was nothing they could do, the doctor was doing a procedure at the hospital and obviously wasn't going to drop everything and come running to tend to my child. The nerve of that guy!

I wasn't about to sit around there for 2 hours with those Polly Anna's saying "I'm so sorry" over and over again. All the sorries in the world didn't do a damn thing when my baby started begging me for something to eat which he couldn't have. "Please mommy. PLEASE. You're making me sad mommy."

While back at home, since I am known to almost never check my home voice mail, I decided I had better see if they indeed had tried to contact me. 26 messages later - I was right, no call from his office about the change. But you know what? Even if there had been one, don't you think they should make sure they talk to someone in person rather than just leave a message when it's something like that?!

So, we go back at the "scheduled" time (I use that term very loosely) and about 10:15 am (15 minutes before they are supposed to start), we find out the doctor is running about an hour late. I about blew a gasket! They brought in a portable dvd player and The Bee Movie really helped keep Jace's mind of food. At one point there were asking when was the last he had anything to eat or drink and Jace goes, "I want something to eat - I want a drink". Poor baby!

They finally took him back about 11:30 am and before noon we were talking to the doctor. It all went well but I wanted to make sure he was aware that his office did not notify us of the time change. I figured he would ream some ass much better than I could. The thing is, he wasn't too terribly put off by it. He said those are things beyond his control. REALLY?! My fist going upside your head is about to be beyond my control if you patronize me and my child again!!!! He did finally say they were having trouble with one scheduling nurse doing stuff like that and he would talk to her. I'm sure he won't but it was something.

All and all Jace is doing good. He is talking a lot more than I ever remember Brendon doing when he got his out when he was 4. If fact, Brendon forever became a mumbler after his surgery. Jace isn't really into eating any popsicles yet, will take a few drinks so that's good. He is really sore! Time for some more Tylenol with Codine when he wakes up. I think I need some!

Does that say REEBOK on the side of your face?

Ok - I am posting this to try to win a Wii over at City Mama's blog. You are supposed to post an embarrassing fitness story. This isn't so much embarrassing but cringeworthy and mortifying as a mother.

About 9 or 10 years ago, I was joining the Tae Bo craze. I actually like Tae Bo even though you sweat like a pig when doing it. Anyway, one day I was doing Tae Bo in my living room, Dallas (who was 3 or 4 years old at the time) was playing with his legos behind me in the living room. Not a problem, 'til he decide to run down the hall to the playroom. He was running passed me at the exact same moment I did a side kick and I kicked him right in the side of the face - knocked him into the couch. I felt horrible. It was a pretty good kick. I am surprised the word REEBOK wasn't imbedded on his check. Can you imagine? I felt sooooooooooo bad!!!!!!!

Teacher Fired for Misconduct...

in her private life, personal time.

My kids told me tonight that a female, 7th grade teacher got fired for stripping. I first I thought they meant that this person moonlighted as a stripper - we all know teacher's don't make much money. But apparently that was not the case. My 8th grader's details were pretty sketchy. Apparently this teacher stripped somewhere and a student's parent witnessed it (again, sounds like a strip joint to me) and called the school.

My 7th grader said he heard it happened at a bar in one of the small towns in our school district. Said teacher was out with friends and apparently the group decided to have a contest amongst themselves as to who of them had the best body. Said teacher started with lifting her shirt to show her bare midsection and then went on to strip off more. I don't how much she took off, if it was just her top or if she was down to her Victoria Secrets or what. But apparently the Associate Principal happened to be frequenting the same establishment that night and witness the incident.

The teacher has now been fired. What I am wondering is why does what she does outside of school, not in the presence of any of her students matter to her job security? I understand that with all the serious teacher misduct involving sex with students in the news in recent years, there is probably a lean toward nipping any inpropriority in the bud. But, like I said, this didn't happen at school and she didn't strip in front of her students. I assume she was probably well respected. In addition to her regular teaching duties, she was a after-school program coach, and was also dating a well liked and respected faculty member. Now because of something (albeit ill-advised) she did in her personal life, she has lost her job and reportedly the other faculty member has dumped her too.

Is this fair? Who hasn't done things, especially when drinking, that they aren't embarrassed by? Mortified even? Heck, one read through my "embarrassing moments" post shows I've had my fair share. But would we have lost our jobs over those actions? Should this teacher have been fired for this? Perhaps teacher's contracts have a morality clause but was this immoral? She had a little too much to drink and lost both her inhibitions and her good judgement. Does this make her a bad person? Does that mean she can't teach 7th grade math? Would it have been different if she were a stipper at a strip joint? Should what teachers do in their private lives remain private and not affect their jobs so long as no students are involved?

When I was in high school I worked at a fast food joint that happened to be acrossed the street from the dirty book store. One day when I was washing windows, I saw our school counselor enter that facility. Did the fact that he liked to look at porn (or get a little slap and ticket) make him unable to help a student decide if they should go to college or become a pest control specialist? Did it mean he couldn't sit two fighting girls down and get them to see that they were best friends two minutes ago and will be again in two minutes. Did it mean he couldn't spot a troubled teen and get them help? If you think it does mean all those things? Why? Because he took his fetish out into the daylight? What if he watched hard core porn at home and no one ever knew? Does that make him any more qualified to perform his job duties?

I feel for this woman. I have long known that I can never run for politic office for fear that my past misdeeds would resurfice. And I have endoured embarrassment too but imagine how she must feel knowing the entire school district is judging her.

What do you think?

Officially the MOST fattening thing I have ever eaten!

I've sunk to an all time low in eating things that are bad for me...

Introducing the Burger King Loaded Steakhouse Burger!

What is it loaded with you might ask?!

Oh, just Durkee fried onions, mashed potatoes w/ sour cream & chives, bacon, A1 steak sauce, and cheese.

Let's take a look at the nutritional (ha) value...

970 calories

55 grams of fat

2190 mgs of sodium

63 grams of carbs

I still can't believe I ate this concoction and actually proclaim to want to lose weight. What is wrong with me?! I think I need an intervention! HELP!

Good Friends, Good Times

I'm not really partial to having picture take these days but despite me always having my mouth open and my double chin, I thought this was a nice picture of my friends and I having a night out last night. We celebrated my 5th wedding anniversary - absent the husband of course. We are still missing Misti though. She needs to get back to Iowa soon. We thought about super-imposing her picture right about were that Miller Lite clock is. HA. I am so thankful for my good friends and the good times.

I'm raising a mime...

I guess Brendon has decided to become a mime. I've come to this conclusion from his total lack of verbalizing anything at all. So far the only "gesture" he knows is the shoulder shrug. I suspect he is also working on the eye roll but I usually have my back turned when that move is performed so I can't really say if he has mastered it or not.

All I know is he is freakin' driving me crazy with the not responding. I told him last night I've had more stimulating conversations with pimples on my face! Teenagers are sooooooo aggravating! Either they act like you are sooooo beneath them even bothering to utter a word to you or when they do speak (good doggie), the tone is totally to let you know how incredibly stupid they think you are!

Serenity now, serenity now, serenity now!

Pass the duct tape please...

So, when you last joined us, I had resorted to caging my spirited 3 year old. For my next trick, instead of pulling a rabbit out of my hat, I'd like to try duct taping his mouth...

I was at Stuff's Etc (fave store) today and was trying on a couple pairs of shorts and a couple shirts. I knew it was going to be iffy on any or all of these fitting but I was willing to try (even though disappointment and dismay always follows). It was just me and Jace so I had to take him in the fitting room with me. I start to pull on the first pair of shorts when I realized they weren't going to make it passed my thighs. I made that obvious statement to myself in my head along with "man, how could I have been so off on thinking these would fit" when I noticed the zipper was stuck and perhaps if I unzipped them all the way it would give me the extra umpth I needed. As I reached for the zipper this is what I hear from my precious little boy..."those aren't going to fit you".

It was like a dagger to the heart. Why oh why are kids so brutally honest?! A brief back and forth of "yes they will" - "no they won't" ensued. He was right...they didn't fit so I moved on to the next pair of shorts. Again I hear, "they're not going to fit you mom" followed by "you need to try bigger ones mom".

I had been heckled enough. I fought back with "I really don't need to hear that from you right now Jace". One of my finer moments.

Defeated, I moved on to the shirts. I removed the top I was wearing and Jace shouts, "I see your boobies". Is it possible to teach a 3 year old that discretion is the better part of valor? Is it possible to not be totally embarassed when a 3 year decided to speak his mind?

He wanted to get back to his toys that we had left waiting in the cart outside the fitting rooms so I finished up and we went on our way. Not before he took a quick peak under the wall to the adjoining room. Thank God he didn't have any comments for that person as to whether their selections would fit them or not.

Sanity with a 3 year old...

Jace has become very wiley (or is it wirely) - he is very hard to catch if you want to go somewhere and he doesn't. Very slippery when trying to hold him down to get his shoes or coat on. Very tempting to have a leash on hand in public places or he is gone like the Road Runner (beep, beep, zip, bang). Basically a typical toddler with a mind of his own. I definitly cannot keep up at times so I found a solution. There's nothing wrong with this picture, is there?

DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS!

If I don't cage him, I find him doing things like this...

I say it's creative parenting at it's best.

(Disclaimer before DHS comes knocking on my door, the makeshift cage was actually a mesh laundry basket and he put it over himself on his own. He likes to pretend it's a rocket ship and he is blasting off in it. Kids?!)

Bite Me...

I really don't have much tolerence for people right now. Hmm...I wonder why...under a little bit of stress right now.

Ok, so the Wendy's employee who was taking the drive-thru orders tonight sucks the big one and can bite my left tit.

Me: Yeah, I'll take (2) Crispy Chicken sandwiches - both plain. A regular chocolate Frosty...

Idiot: So that was (2) Crispy Chicken sandwiches and a small Frosty.

Me: I wanted a regular Frosty.

Idiot: We don't have regular Frosties.

Me: It's right here on your menu board.

Idiot: Well, I rang up a small, is that what size you want?

Me: No, I want a regular.

Idiot: I don't know what size a regular is, do you want a medium?

Me: I don't know, you tell me. It's your menu board not mine.

Idiot: I don't know what the menu board says but we have small, medium, ...

Me: It says right here 16 oz regular Frosty.

Voice of Reason Chiming In Whispering to Idiot: 16 oz is a medium

Idiot: a 16 oz is a medium.

Me: Well, then you might want to change your menu board.

Idiot: Oh ok - would you like anything else.

Me: Yeah - a copy of your GED certificate.

(Just kidding - I didn't say that - but I wanted to. Where is Lola when you need her?)

Have Some Respect...

I was at lunch with a friend today when my brother, Roger, called to tell me about a conversation he had just had with our oldest half-brother, Danny. Apparently, out of respect to their mother, he and my half-sister, Sherry, aren’t coming to my mother’s funeral. I am completely shocked and awed.

The divorce and subsequent years after between our dad and their mom were VERY BITTER! I’ve heard stories of how she would drop off the kids to my mom & dad saying she was done with them and they could have them. They would enroll them in school, bought them all new school clothes, etc and Marie would come get the kids and take them back. There is also speculation that my mom and dad had an affair but even if that was the case, they went on to get married, have (3) kids together and stayed married for almost 28 years until my dad died. It wasn’t just a fly by night fling. You can’t help who you fall in love with and after almost 50 years, this woman needs to GET OVER IT.

Us kids never grew up together because Marie wouldn’t allow it. I don’t ever remember meeting my sister until my dad’s funeral. That was 20 years ago and since then we usually all see each other once a year or every other year.

I am just heartbroken over this. They say, “out of respect for their mother”. Well, what about out of respect for MY mother?! My mother who only tried to be apart of those kids’ lives and who loved them. What about out of respect for US as their siblings?! A funeral is a time to show respect for that person’s life and for them not to come feels like they have no respect for her.

Roger says, “well, he kept saying how they want us to know that they love all of us and they do think of us as brothers and sisters” and so on. I say actions speak louder than words. Those are just words to me to cover their reasons for not coming. They should act on that love they talk about and be there for us and for my mom. At least come to the visitation.

And these people are in their 50’s. Why can’t they stand up to their mother and say, “I’m sorry but this woman was a part of our lives and these are our brothers and sister and we are going to be there for them”. My other half-brother, Mike, hasn’t spoken to his mother in over a year so I am hoping against hope he will be there.

And one could ask, “would you do the same for them?”. Well, I would have to say no, only because I don’t know her. I have never met her in my life. It’s not like my mom was the first wife and he went on to marry her and she was my step-mother. If it had happened that way then it would be different.

Roger, I think, feels kind of the same way but he told them we understand. Well, I’m sorry I don’t understand!! And I won’t forgive them if they don’t come. It took my father’s funeral to bring all of us kids together and I guess it’ll be my mom’s funeral that tears us apart.

Stopping Dialysis To Allow A Natural Death

This was the name of one of the articles I read online last night in my quest for information about what my mom will be facing. There was a really good publication from the National Kidney Foundation that did a bunch of Q & A on everything from continued medical care, home health care and hospice options, getting financial affairs in order, to what the person would experience in their final time.

I actually was wrong (I am not a doctor nor do I play one on tv so what do I know), mom wouldn't get sick after stopping dialysis in the sense of anything painful or even vomitting. Both the Kidney Foundation and another publication from a Sacred Heart Hospital said that death from kidney failure is actually painless.

It said...

"This time is usually gentle for the person stopping dialysis. ... As the body's waste products build up there is a natural state of sleepliness and analgesia (pain relief) that leads to a peaceful, painless, and gentle death".

What more could anyone ask for? Certainly not my mother who has been in pain for so long. Certainly not her loved ones who just want her to be at peace.

However, it was this line of the article that stopped our hearts...

"The expected duration of life after dialysis is stopped is one to two weeks".

The National Kidney Foundation publication said anywhere from one day to a few weeks. Either way, this floored us. As strong as are all trying to be, we were thinking one to two months not weeks. This was a real reality check. It's been a hard couple days to have to go through personal papers and starting to think about planning your mother's funeral. I broke down in the shower today because it just hit me like a ton of bricks and started to again when trying to put on some make up. I told myself to "stop it, this is stupid, they'll be plenty of time to cry later".

We just have to keep telling ourselves that this is what she wants.

the strength to let go...

Most people who know me know about my mom's health. How she has had Rhuematoid Arthritis for over 15 years and how really the last 5 years she has not been good. All the medications over the years damaged her kidneys and she had to go on dialysis 4 years ago. Most recently, she has been in and out of the hospital since Christmas for difficulty breathing. She has progressively gotten weaker and weaker.

Today, when I visited her in the hospital, she told me that she is ready to go (to heaven). She wants to go see my dad, her "mommy & daddy", my Uncle Tom & Aunt Veda (and so on). That she doesn't feel she has any quality of life anymore, that everyday it takes more and more to go through the dialysis and she just doesn't have the strength to fight anymore. I knew in my heart this moment was coming. I could tell she was getting so weak that she would be giving up. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do but I held back my tears, my fears and told her it was ok. That us kids would be ok and that she could let go. She didn't need to hold on for us. She asked if we'd be mad at her and I said of "course not, we don't want you to be in pain anymore".

She has made the decision to stop dialysis and just let things progress naturally 'til the end. I told her she needs to prepare herself for the fact that she will probably get really sick because the toxins won't be flushed from her system. She asked me where she'd go when that happened and I told her probably hospice. She asked if hospice was there at the hospital and I told her that yes, they have a hospice unit. We already had a family appointment set up with her doctor on April 14th so that is when we are going to discuss this with him. She said she has a lot of questions and she was sure us kids would too. I told her we would ask him what she should expect to happen to her with stopping the treatments and I also want to ask if he would have any estimate as to how quickly things would progress. Four years ago they said she would only live a year without dialysis and she is in so much worse condition now than then.

The last thing I told her before I left was that she didn't need to hold on for long but she needed to give us a chance to say goodbye. To get all our kids here and her twin sister. She said, "ok".

She does want to go home from the hospital before anything happens. Probably to get her affairs in order. My brother left work and he & I went online tonight and did a Power of Attorney. I know a Notary and I know she'd come to the hospital or the house if I asked her to. We need mom to show us where all the insurance papers are and just everything.

I know we are not the first family to go through this. I feel so much for anyone who does. My mother and I haven't always had the best relationship but when I needed her, she was always there for me. When I needed her to, she always came through for me. That is what I am doing for her now. She deserves the right to choose how she is going to die and our family is going to honor that. I know I will miss her terribly when she is gone but for now, I will do what I can to give her the strength to let go.

DC or Bust...

It's almost 3 am and I just got back from taking Brendon out to leave for his trip to DC. You may remember how I was struggling with how I was going to be able to pay for this trip and be able to give my son something my parent's weren't able to give me. It all worked out and I couldn't be happier. In fact, I got a little teary when the final papers about the trip came home a couple weeks ago. You couldn't tell it by Brendon - Mr. Show No Emotion Whatsoever. He is just like his dad, a man of many words. All of his answers are either one word responses or "I don't know". It really is very irratating! I mean why isn't he jumping up and down for joy, screaming from the mountain tops (if there were mountain tops in Iowa)?!

So, I had totally planned on going shopping for snacks and last minute items and packing early in the evening and going to bed early since we had to be at the school at 2:30 am. Yeah - shopping became a mad dash because Brendon and a friend wanted to get in a round of golf in before the trip. They were supposed to be thinking FOUR in terms of "four score and seven years ago" not shouting FOUR on the golf course. (I know nothing about golf so that actually could be spelled FORE for all I know.) Then at 9:00 pm we starting searching for his baseball jacket he needed to pack in case of rain, to no avail. I searched every box I have shoved in every closet and could not find it. I still say it's at his dad's but a call over there came up with nothing either. Finally at 10:00 pm, I had to get some sleep, so I gave up.

They are taking charter buses to Chicago and flying to DC from there. After arriving around noon I would suspect, already on the first day, they go to Arlington National Cemetery and the Jefferson, Lincoln, & Washington monuments. They see those in the evening when it's all lit up. I can't remember all the other stops but things like Capital Hill, the White House, (3) of the Smithsonian museums, etc. The trip is so jam packed, they are going to be exhausted. Brendon might be running on the (2) gallon size baggies full of candy he packed. Plus he is sick. He came down with a pretty bad cold and he said he couldn't take any medicine along because there was a deadline to turn in any meds to the school nurse. I still think I could have called one of the trip organizers and gotten by but the truth is he probably wouldn't take it anyway without me there to force it down him.

So, I am freaking out a little about what if he gets seperated from the group, what if he gets hurt, what if the plane...nope, not going there...but I am trying not to be too overprotective so I told him to call or text me once today so I know they got there and once on Saturday so I know he hadn't been kidnapped along the way. In between times, I will be a nervous wreck and missing him terribly!

Dallas, on the other hand, is THRILLED to be having the house to himself for a few days. He is even skipping going to his dad's this weekend so he can enjoy it to the fullest. Hey, I can't blame him. I like the days I get the house to myself too!

...all just a dream...

They mingled at the same party, both knowing the other was there, it didn't seem out of the ordinary to her. Eventually, making the rounds brought them to each other. After a couple minutes of smiles and small talk, he tells her how he has had a crush on her for years. How whenever he sees her, he thinks about what it would be like to touch her.

Although she is shocked by what she is hearing, she instantly blushes, her smile grows larger. It feels good to hear his words but she doesn’t know whether to trust it as anything more than the alcohol talking.

She's insecure. She doesn't feel attractive when she looks in the mirror. Nobody says things like that to her. She is the fun girl everyone can laugh with, not the object of their desires. In the past her insecurities had made her easy prey for guys who only wanted one thing. Enough alcohol, mixed with a little attention, topped with just the right words could win them their way with her. She'd feel a temporary high but it always gave way to shame and loneliness. So how could she help but think this was any different?

She wasn't the girl she used to be. She had finally learned that sex does not equal love. Casual sex, no matter how hot or how satisfying, was not going to bring her her soul mate. But in her mind, her soul mate would say these words she was hearing from him.

She had tried to counter them with things like, "come on, you're married" and "I've always gotten the impression you really love your wife". Stabbing holes in any plausibility these feelings he claimed to have could be true.

He didn't deny it. In fact, admitting it was true that he did love his wife. "But there is something about you”, he said. "It's your personality. You are always so bubbly and happy. I watch you and think about what it would be like to be with you. Even as your body has changed over the years, it didn't matter to me. I still wanted you", he told her intently.

This couldn't be happening. What girl hasn't dreamed of someone who sees them for a person and not just a warm body? Who sees passed their size and likes them for who they are. That seeing her that way makes them want her in every sense of the word. To find someone has fantasized about them from a far for years rather than being the only prospect at the end of the night.

It was becoming harder for her to resist his charm. They kept talking, her now coyly taking in his thoughts. Softly holding her drink to her lips, occasionally playfully biting the rim of the glass. She looks at him, smiling brightly, shyly holding his eyes for moments than bashfully looking away. He leans in and says, "you're teasing me."

She laughed and swore she wasn't. Maybe she was. Maybe she was teasing the moment. Knowing it wouldn't last. Knowing it couldn't. She doesn't even remember what she was saying when he suddenly kissed her.

There was a lot of conversation and laughter going on around them. Well aware there weren't the only people in the place but not letting it stop them. Had anyone witnessed the kiss? It was quick and surprising but she felt herself kiss back. It was a mere fleeting moment but she had ended the kiss with him. Their lips pressed firmly and fully together.

She tells him she can't believe he did that. He is practically giddy, his smile so big now it dominates his features. He tells her he is glad he did. How he couldn't help himself. Just watching her talk, he had to take the chance. He wanted to take her.

She holds strong. Never wanting to feel used again, she tells him how this can't happen. How she knows he is not saying he would leave his wife and how she deserves more. It hurts to say it. It hurts to let go of how good this had all felt but she knew better. She knew better of herself.

She was a good person and deserved to be loved whole heartedly and not play second best. He agrees. He looks at her and says that she's great and she does deserve all of that. Still playing the prince.

So that's it. It was over. He needed to get going. To get home to his wife. She was going to walk him out. In the parking lot, they would share one more kiss. A longer and more meaningful one. A goodbye.

She talked to a foursome at a nearby table while he said his farewells. She watched him anticipating that kiss she was planning. Waiting to sneak out and have that moment with him. She looked away so that no one would detect her stare. When she turned back, he was gone. He had left alone. Left her alone. It was over.

Although she had stayed a while longer at the party, she thought of him. She remembered every word and that kiss. The memory lingered of the feel of his lips on hers. The heat of that moment when he couldn't not have her any longer. She cried all the way home. She felt stupid for letting herself want what he had said to be true.

Was it? Had he heard about her past and thought of her as that easy prey? Did he know he could fluster her the way he claimed to be flustered by her? She cried at the thought of being a fool to think anyone feels that way about her. Cried at that thought of him skipping out when he hadn't succeeded in getting her to succumb to him. Cried at the fact that she wished it were all true. Cried that it couldn't be.

She had done the right thing yet she still felt used and alone. She couldn't win. She thought she had held on to her dignity but had she? Was there any dignity in being played even if the guy didn't score? To her, the score was cruel world - 100, her heart - 0.

The next day she was still solemn. She replayed the night over and over in her mind. She didn't know what would happen when they saw each other again. She knew that time would come soon enough. Would he even remember? Had the alcohol given the courage to finally say all the things he'd been feeling? Will the alcohol cause him to also forget that he had? She didn't know what to expect but she was feeling the moments they had shared were the moments she had dreamed of.

Someday, someone will say those things to her and have the conviction to stand behind them. He'll take those feelings he can't deny inside himself and make them the reason he needs to be with her. To truly be with her. She deserves nothing less and wants nothing more. That day, that guy, that will be her soul mate. That day, that guy, that moment...will be hers.

Spring Fever

I've given up on NaBloPoMo...my life is way to stressful and hectic to post everyday and I found that I was posting nothing else but lists. Gone were the quirky, the cute, the family. So today I took some time out of my hectic life (and by that I mean I pulled myself out of the pappasan chair) and played with Jace outside. He was definitely having spring fever and enjoyed a little of the first day of Spring.

Day 15 - Embarrassing Moments

Day 15's list is embarrassing moments in my life. I won't say most embarrassing because, hey, I'm pushing forty and can't possibly remember them all - but these rank right up there.

1). This is a 2 parter...9th grade...9th grade locker bay, Joe Karasek gooses me and feels the ginormous pad I was wearing because Aunt Flo was visiting. His response, "nice butt". I was mortified and vowed never to wear pads again.

2). My mother refused to buy me tampons - the whole toxic shock thing - so I had to get them myself but I had no idea how to use them. My friend had to show me. She gave me the instructions then left the bathroom to let me "try". I was talking to myself out loud about how I didn't know what I was doing and turns out she never had left, was hiding around the corner and heard everything. The giggling gave her away.

3). Again, in the 9th grade (apparently it was a traumatic year for me). It was the first year of Spanish class and for the first term we were given names that when translated were similar to our actual names. Mine was Lourdes...pronounced Lor-dace. So, we had to go around the room...the first person would say their spanish name, the next person had to say the first person's spanish name and then their spanish name, and so on and so forth. When it came to this one girl, she didn't pronounce my name as Lor-dace...she pronounced is as Lard-ass. Everyone laughed and you know how sometimes nicknames tend to stick. Of all nicknames for people to remember all year. Not a fun year.

4). I guess I should say any of the zillion times I peed my pants from laughing. I used to have a condition called "spastic bladder" and when I would laugh (a hard laugh, not a giggle and since you never really know when you are going to laugh), the message from my brain to my nervous system would get confused and tell my bladder muscles to contract. The result...I would pee my pants. I was put on medication and given a permanent hall pass to go to the bathroom whenever I wanted at school. BUT that was in jr. high school after years of wetting myself prior. But as embarrassed as I obviously was, I don't know one time that anyone else noticed. I was never teased about it once that I can remember. See I got really good at hiding it, sometimes with the help of great friends. I would tie a sweatshirt or jacket (Members Only usually) around my waist and hope it hung low enough to cover. Once it happened in study hall which was right by the Home Ec room so my friend waited with me 'til the room cleared then she provided cover while we ran to the Home Ec room where the teacher let me use the dryer to dry my pants. (After all, it was the friend's fault I peed. We had been playing tic tac toe and she farted. That made me laugh and then I farted and that made me laugh even more). Thank God it was a free period for Home Ec and not a full classroom. Before I was diagnosed, my mom thought it was my fault, that I was not going to the bathroom often enough or fully draining my bladder. So one time when we were camping, my friends and I were fishing and I had an accident. So, they all took turns filling their hands with lake water and dumping in on my pants so we could tell my mom I fell in the lake. She didn't buy it and I got sent to bed early. But those were good friends. Another time it happened at a restaurant with a friend's family. I covered myself with my coat 'til we got outside but that wasn't going to explain how I got their car seat wet when we drove home. It was winter out and the cars parked on the street had a couple inches of snow piled on their hoods. I jumped on a car and slid on my butt down its hood. When I got off then I was all, "oh crap now I'm soaked. Why did I do that?". I think they fell for it.

5). I can't remember if this happened in 8th grade or 9th grade - after lunch you could go outside 'til the bell. It wasn't recess anymore but it was the next best thing. We were leap frogging over those posts in the parking lot. When I leaped one (basically spread eagle), a friend shouts "I'm surprised you didn't suck that one up". This was back in the day of all the cheerleader doing the splits jokes...you know, "waddaya do when a cheerleader does the slits and 5 class rings fall out" or "waddaya do when a cheerleader does the splits and sticks to the floor" ...so I know she was joking but still it was embarrassing.


Ok this is the part where any family members tuned in probably should stop reading. Just remember I was young and didn't know any better.


6). A bar I frequented in my early 20's used to have these Build You Own Bikini contests where you had to make a bikini out of something other than material. A friend and I were there on a night of one of the contests, I had become friendly with most of the bar employees and they were trying to convince me to enter the contest. They only had one other contestant and needed someone else to enter to even have the contest. I said NO for most of the night but after a few drinks, they convinced me. This bar also served pizza by the slice so they decided to make my bikini out of tin foil. You know - the most durable of substances. So, I went into the bathroom, my friend helped me into the tinkini and of course it ripped in the process - right in the crotch area. She did what any friend would do and scrunched the tin foil together just like you do any other time you use tin foil and it rips and we carried on. One of the bouncers loaned me his uniform shirt which was basically like a baseball jersey to wear before the contest started so I wouldn't be exposed. So they called all the contestants to the dance floor and I removed the jersey. The yelling from the crowd was so loud I couldn't really hear the announcer but that was nothing new for this place. There were a lot of drunken guys and the bar held contests that catered to their carnal wants. I didn't think anything of it. I smiled and clapped to the music. Then a different bouncer came over to me and whispered in my ear, "fix it or your disqualified". I didn't know what he was talking about so I went on - clueless - and sure enough got disqualified. They covered me up and escorted me from the dance floor. Turns out the scrunched together part didn't hold and all the walking around before the contest started had caused the bottom of my tinkini to shift to the left, so the V shaped portion that should have been covering my vajayjay was actually covering my left thigh leaving only the side strap to cover...well, pretty much nothing. AND to top all of that off - this bar was also known to video tape all their contests. So, you see I can never run for political office now for fear that tape would surface during my campaign.

7). Having sex in a car, in the parking lot of a bar across the street from my work, said bar full of guys from my work attending a going away party, I look up the heat of the moment to see that many of those guys are now standing around the car not only watching but taking pictures. Thank God quickies are just that - to where most times you aren't fully undressed. Let me back track a little (ok save face a little)...this going away party was for a guy I had had a HUGE crush on for two years. He was a former marine and totally what the marine campaign "a few good men" was all about. He was muscular and HOT, HOT, HOT. I was already gone for the day but he stopped by my office to personally invite me to his party. My boss called me to tell me since she knew how I felt about him. She agreed to accompany me to the party so I didn't have to go alone. I was extremely nervous, hadn't eaten and plied myself with many beers to have the courage to talk to him. Turns out he had broken up with his girlfriend. He was single, I was single, I was probably never going to see him again so I took the opportunity to have my dream fulfilled. I am not ashamed of that at all. I was a consenting adult. Do I wish we had used better discretion and chose a better location? YES. But hey, hindsight is 20/20. Unfortunately, I was referred to as the "Official Going Away Gift" for the next several going away parties, however, I was unable to attend. Oh and the pictures...they never saw the light of day. Actually, in a way, they did...I knew the guy whose camera was used and he said the film had been exposed when the camera was opened but I still asked him for the roll to make sure. I never developed it so I have to trust that he did the right thing.

8). Puking in the middle of a bar right in front of the guy you are trying to impress. I had dated this guy for 3 months (he is on my boys who stole my heart post) and was trying to win him back. A friend and I went to a bar we knew he patroned on Thursday nights because of it being ThirsTea Thursday. Specials on all kind of teas - the ones with like 5 shots a piece - like Long Island Iced Tea but there were others like California Tea and so forth. He was there as predicted, we didn't speak to him - that wouldn't be casually ending up at the same place (or "being breezy" to any Friends fans). We had a couple teas there and then moved on (and by than I mean followed him) to another bar. We were standing by the dance floor acting all nonchalant when he finally came up and talked to me. I was soooo nervous and had had a lot to drink. My stomach started churning and I felt like I needed to belch. I put my hand under my nose like when you try to squelch a sneeze. My friend asked me if I was ok. I said, "yeah, I just need to burp". Then I starting puking. I tried to hold it back with my hand but it started flying over the top of my hand. It landed in our drinks even. I finally couldn't hold it anymore and just let it go and puked all over the floor. My friend and I looked at each other, started laughing and ran to the bathroom. I had puke in my hair - it was lovely. Man, I really know how to impress a guy, don't I?

9). Ripping out the ass of my skirt while doing the Electric Slide. A bar I mentioned earlier that I patroned a lot in my early twenties hosted a lot of Ladies Nights. What better way to draw the guys in than to offer free drinks for 4 hrs to any lady wearing a skirt. So, we'd don the appropriate attire for the appropriate 4 hrs and then change into shorts we left in the car. One night though, I can't remember if the skirt was particularly too tight at the beginning of the night or after 4 hrs of drinking but we were on the dance floor doing the Electric Slide and one time when I leaned over, as required by the dance, my skirt ripped up the back. Thank God I was wearing pretty panties! Thank God I was wearing panties! Just kidding - I have never been one to go commando (another Friends reference).

10). Getting caught giving a hand job to some guy at the drive in...by your brother. This would have been the end of 9th grade. The drive in WAS the Friday night place to be. I went with some friends and my brother went seperately with some friends. After a lot of Everclear and Orange Juice (or maybe not a lot because, I mean, it was Everclear after all - it doesn't really take a lot), two young girls stumbled around the drive in, looking for new friends. Later on, one of those young girls was in the front seat with one new friend only making out I think because her Aunt Flo was visiting (and was right there in the car with them). And the other young girl was in the back seat with the other new friend making out...and giving a hand job. After a while, there was a knock on the window of the back seat door. Young girl #2 looks up only to see her older brother standing there. Hand job O-VER. I didn't really care one way or the other...I'm sure the new friend did. In fact, I think he was a little put off because he called the young girl a slut and young girl #1's older brother and his friend hand to teach him the polite way to refer to said young girls.

11). Deciding to publish these embarrassing moments.

Days 11 - 14, I need a pardon please...

Who do I talk to about getting a pardon for Days 11 - 13? And Day 14's list will be the reasons why I need the pardon. Here is what happened to me in those days.

1). Got a tooth pulled. (The possible side effects of the surgery was going to be my list that day. They were pretty scary. But the Vicodin helps.)

2). My mom went into the hospital.

3). My 3 year old went into the hospital (after 7 hrs of vomiting every 15-20 minutes)

That was just Day 11.

4). Father of older boys resistant to keeping them while Jace is in hospital because he doesn't want his "new" family exposed to whatever Jace had. Putting me in the position of having to choose between the older boys and the little boy. Who I should be with.

5). I come down with whatever Jace had while he is still in the hospital. Spent all night either on the toilet or hovering over it.

That was day 12.

6). Jace is released and spends evening at dad's while I recover.

7). Ken comes down with whatever Jace had. He decided to add a degree of difficulty by combining being on the toilet and hovering over the garbage simultaneously.

That was Day 13.

8). Jace starts the vomitting again at 2:30 am and this time adds diareaha to the mix. Obviously thanks to the quality time spend with Dad.

9) Oldest son leaves book bag at home and calls from school for me to bring it to him. He can spend a 1/2 hour before the bus comes watching SportsCenter but step right over his book bag on the way out the door.

10). After taking shower to wash off the "death warmed over" look I had been sporting for a couple days, leave to head to school and find an almost flat tire.

11). Have to drive on flat to 3 gas stations before I find a working source of free air.

12). Spend rest of day working from home to catch up on what I missed. (Don't tell anyone that I could get caught up in 6 hrs after missing 3 days of work. That's our little secret.)

Day 10 - My First Day of Preschool

Someone asked me today if I was gone in the morning to a seminar and I said, "no, I was at preschool". They said, "oh, going back to school are ya?" . HA. I thought that was funny. Actually it was my first time as classroom helper at Jace's preschool so Day 10's list is what I did at preschool today.

1). Take snack to room - it was our day to bring snack. This is a lot of pressure you know. To bring something all the kids will like and it has to be nutritious. I decided on individual packages of sliced apples (a la McDonald's Apple Dippers - did you know you can buy these at Walmart?) and berry flavored Juicy Juice.

2). Help with "Alley Drop Off" - I had no clue what this was but apparently some people pull up in the alley, boot their kid out of the car and let a perfect stranger walk them to their classroom. I couldn't imagine who would do such a thing and actually no one did - thank goodness. So, instead I held the door for those juggling more than one child.

3). Play in the sand at the Sensory Table - this was the activity about 7 out of the 8 kids wanted to play all at once. Fighting over toys and that's when I knew I was in trouble. I didn't know anyone and I hate correcting other people's kids. I couldn't let them come to blows over wooden race cars that, according Ms. Tracy, aren't supposed to be in the sand anyway, so I had to try to reason with 2 and 3 year olds - boys no less.

4). Watercolors - this was pretty tame but Jace wouldn't let me paint my own picture. He kept coloring over my flowers and rainbow and party balloons with different colors so then you couldn't see my original painting anymore. I wanted to tell on him but thought I would let it slide this time.

5). Reading stories - first I read "You Can Name 100 Trucks" to Jace and Grey (or was it Greg? I couldn't understand - it sounded different each time a teacher said it). And the book was right, I could name 100 trucks...there was the ice cream truck and the lunch truck and the milk truck...it was making me hungry.

6). BIG room - the big room is basically the indoor playground when they can't get outside. There are Little Tykes climbers, lots of ride on toys, mats, bouncy balls. This was another area where sharing has not quite been mastered. I spent most of the time trying to keep kids from latching on to something Jace was playing with so that he wouldn't throw a fit and have my parenting skills put to the test. Could I keep my child from behaving badly and embarrassing me if push came to shove. And push could very well come to shove in the BIG room...no wonder they have the mats!

7). Snack - it was time for the wonderful snack. First we all used magic soap (anti-bacterial gel) and then passed out the apples. The teacher vetoed my juice and decided to serve milk. Something about it needing to be used up...blah, blah, blah. Then she decided that every child did not need their own package of apples but that they could share. I had brought 10 packages, there was plenty but it actually was a good idea because there was like 6 or 7 slices in each one. That really was too much for one small child. But then the other teacher offered anyone who wanted one a peanut butter cracker too. I was like, "you got something against my apples beotch? You wanna take this to the BIG room?". Again, the reason was, "we need to use these up" . Apparently nothing goes to waist at preschool.

8). Dancing - this was how we were going to fill the last 15 minutes of class. We danced with bean bags on various body parts, we danced our way to the store with "Sammy" pretening to fly, swim, crawl and hop rather than walk, we freestyled our way through the last song. We totally had the kids with us on the first song, by the second song most of the boys had drifted off to try to touch toys one last time (even though they knew they were closed after we eat), by the third song it really was just the adults. I was a little nervous when Ms. Tracy showed off her "grapevine" prowless to Ms. Susy (which in my day was called the Electric Slide).

9). Get our coats and bags - I had been watching the clock for the last 45 minutes and 11:30 am had arrived. Time to go. BUMMER and just when I was about to school Ms. Tracy on how to do the Worm. Oh well, there's always next month's helper day.