As usual, it has been a very busy weekend trying to cram a weeks worth of stuff into one weekend all while trying to navigate around my naps - which are required for the general well being and safety of all who are in close proximity to me. Add on top of all the usual crap that needs to be done; grocery shopping, laundry, some cleaning, etc. we needed to decorate the house for the holidays. Hanging lights and other festive decorations in the hopes that maybe this will get us in the mood for the typical holiday madness that seems to afflict people this time of year. What happened to the days of a simple wreath on the door and a candle in the window? Well I think I might know the answer to the last question I posed. Too many houses caught on fire (real bummer during the holidays especially when some might be expecting family). Yeah, I know, electric lights - good idea.
I had to unravel the cursed outdoor lights in the hopes that I could find the one bad bulb which for some really stupid, stupid reason affects the whole strand of lights. Who's the genius? Will the genius please stand up and accept their award.... a crown of broken Christmas lites crammed onto their head. Why oh why couldn't the offending bulb at least explode or something so we know which one it is? I personally would like the lights to last more than one holiday season - I do believe I smell a conspiracy.
Anyway, after doing all that and cooking a lovely dinner with my daughter; Pork chops with cabbage and bacon...Yum ! We were getting ready to sit down to dinner and my husband, Matt scurried up from the basement (office) and went to open his bottle of wine so he could have a glass with dinner. I know it was red wine, but not sure what type it was, just that it tends to give him red lips if he has a wee too much. I had just sat down to my yummy meal, fork and knife positioned to start cutting when I heard, "OH CRAP!" Matt was standing by the counter with a panicked look on his face and I though he had cut himself with the cork screw...no biggy, I could poor some peroxide over the wound, slap a band aide on the boo boo and finish my dinner. I was kind of close..it did involve the cork screw, but he didn't just cut himself, he somehow managed to corkscrew his thumb. No, I don't know how the hell he did it...he tried to reenact how it happened after the fact, but I still don't understand - I'll never understand - I refuse to understand. The curly part of the corkscrew was in his thumb AND this particular corkscrew is the kind that folds so it fits neatly in the silverware tray, was folded and in his thumb so he couldn't maneuver it to remove the curly portion. To make matters worse, he thought I was laughing at him, I wasn't (the kids were giggling quietly at the table). What might have been misinterpreted as my laughter, was me trying not to get sick and pass out. For some reason this was really grossing me out. In a shaky voice he asked me to go get some pliers down in the basement...great! How the heck am I going to find anything down there? I ran down and managed to find some needle nose pliers and ran back up stairs. He wanted me to hold part of the metal screw part while he tried to open up the cork screw so he could unscrew it out of his thumb....at this point I'm thinking I really don't want to do this, lets just drive to the ER where we can let the professionals take care of this - after their done laughing of course. For a quick selfish moment I thought...darn my dinner is getting cold, maybe he really doesn't need the whole thumb - we could hack off the part with the corkscrew in it and call it a day. He'll still have a good portion of the thumb left....hmmmm. OK, it was a little longer then a moment. Reason set it and I realized that we would absolutely end up at the ER because of the blood loss and possibly to reattach his thumb....if I didn't leave it on the kitchen floor in my panic to get my beloved some help. I'm sure the cat would have no problem eating it or playing with it until it was unrecognizable and no longer salvageable.... boy, my imagination is just incredible, isn't it?
Finally, he managed to get the cork screw open, with my help of course and the curly part out of his thumb. It bled a little - he washed it off and put a band aid on and that was that. No ER, I didn't pass out, although I did get a mega hot flash while holding the pliers. I thought I might spontaneously combust right there on the spot. We finally sat down to dinner, which by the way was still warm and very tasty and the really ironic thing is, my daughter had already poured red wine from an open bottle and it was on the table already! Brilliant!
The lights are on the house, dinner dishes are put away, Matt is back down in the basement and tomorrow is another week. Stay tuned to see if Mary manages to get her Christmas shopping done before Christmas.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
What's become of us?
I came upstairs to blog, because that is where I do this. I like to call it the office, but really it's a old gutted kitchen. Why, you ask is she typing in an old gutted kitchen? The prior owners of this house sectioned off the upstairs and rented it out as an apartment. My husband, Matt and I didn't want to play the renting game because you never know what kind of nut you could wind up having as your tenant, so we opened up the stairwell which involved knocking down a wall. There are two bedrooms upstairs and there used to be a bathroom. Ugly little closet like bathroom with shiny panelling all over the walls and a teeny tiny little shower stall. Well we were going to enlarge the bathroom and the bedrooms using up the space that use to be the kitchen, but that has not happened yet nor will it happen any time in the near future unless we win the lotto or this blog does really really well...hint, hint.
So I'm sitting in the "office" typing away with holes ripped in the ceiling and walls, exposed pipes that use to be the kitchen sink, linoleum flooring torn up in various areas, and of course the cat litter pan, which once again needs changing but bad. It's the scooping kind, but for some reason it doesn't get scooped on a daily basis maybe cuz I'm busy? Ya think? I really believe if we saved all the old used cat litter, we could repave our driveway with it. That scooping stuff hardens like rock! Maybe even build us a nice patio out back? The possibilities are endless and also stinky - I'm thinking like anything, we will either get use to the smell or it will eventually dissipate?
So I came up here to just write because I haven't done it in a awhile and I missed it, like a dear old friend and I start IMing my husband who is down in the basement in his "office". Let's not even go there..... I'm just surprised he doesn't have mold spores growing on him...it's cold, damp & yucky down there - makes my "office" look pretty posh. So why are we IMing? It's sort of fun because we write each other funny one liners that always crack me up. He's very good at making me laugh which is one of my most favorite things in the whole world.
I am tired, and not as punchy as I normally am at this hour so this blog lacks a bit... I will try again tomorrow.
Mary
So I'm sitting in the "office" typing away with holes ripped in the ceiling and walls, exposed pipes that use to be the kitchen sink, linoleum flooring torn up in various areas, and of course the cat litter pan, which once again needs changing but bad. It's the scooping kind, but for some reason it doesn't get scooped on a daily basis maybe cuz I'm busy? Ya think? I really believe if we saved all the old used cat litter, we could repave our driveway with it. That scooping stuff hardens like rock! Maybe even build us a nice patio out back? The possibilities are endless and also stinky - I'm thinking like anything, we will either get use to the smell or it will eventually dissipate?
So I came up here to just write because I haven't done it in a awhile and I missed it, like a dear old friend and I start IMing my husband who is down in the basement in his "office". Let's not even go there..... I'm just surprised he doesn't have mold spores growing on him...it's cold, damp & yucky down there - makes my "office" look pretty posh. So why are we IMing? It's sort of fun because we write each other funny one liners that always crack me up. He's very good at making me laugh which is one of my most favorite things in the whole world.
I am tired, and not as punchy as I normally am at this hour so this blog lacks a bit... I will try again tomorrow.
Mary
Friday, October 23, 2009
Mass Transportation
We are looking to buy a new car. We were kind of considering used, but the dealerships "encourage" you to buy new and the pressure was too much. As far as I was concerned, I was hoping to get another two or three years out of the vehicles we have because the thought of a car payment right now is daunting. Not just mentally overwhelming, but I'm wondering what kind of mathematical trickery am I going to have to pull out of my pocket to make this work. Hmmm..... so many ideas. I've played some serious Russian Roulette with my check book before, and managed to fire off a few rounds - ouch. It use to be a lot easier to do before the Internets screwed everything up what with Internet banking. Oh wait! I'm on the Internets now, aren't I. Don't let the whole plural thing fool you, there really is only one, right? Or is there another Internet that exists in another time and dimension? Just something to ponder.
But I digress. I'm trying to think what will need to be offered up to the Gods in order for us to swing this car payment? No more meat for dinner? Name brand cereals? Heat? Clothing? So many choices. I absolutely put my foot down with the kids - they still bring in a nice tax deduction. Just so we are all on the same page (assuming there is an "all" reading this), we are not buying a high end vehicle like a Mercedes, BMW, etc... not even close. It is a toss up between a Yaris and a Fit. Ooooh so many choices! Both ride like a card board (corrugated) box with wheels on it - smooth. I believe my son's skate board rides nicer and could possibly have more leg room. To be honest the Scion is now in the picture as well because we were told that they do not ship the Yaris's with cruise control & fog lights to the Northeast. Ok, why? No, really, I would like to know why? You go into a dealer and they give you that lovely glossy brochure that lists all the options and the different prices, some of which come in packages, and on that list it clearly states Fog lights & cruise control as an option and there was NO disclaimer stating "Offer is not good in Dutchess County, NY". It's times like this you just want to go absolutely postal in a dealership (my apologies to all those fine postal workers out there who still remain perfectly sane). I realize we are dealing with sales people and they are a special breed of person. I also realize they are trying to unload the cars they have in stock (out in the dealer parking lot) rather than have new vehicles shipped in. All because some pain in the arse customer won't do as their told. So here I am trying to think why they would tell us this? Isn't it all about making the customer happy? As in big smile...we'll shop here for ever and ever because y'all are great! Hugs and kisses all the way around. No, some schmuck doesn't want to clean the snow off all the cars that are still left in the lot during winter - we sometimes get snow here in the Northeast, unlike some states like, oh I don't know... California?
My husband and I are pretty much both of the opinion, it needs to be reliable and get us (him) from point A to point B which is an hour each way, every single day. I figure when money is less tight....... had to stop for a moment because I was laughing/crying, we can get a nicer vehicle (for me!). Maybe when I'm discovered from writing this blog and somebody out there wants to make a book about me & my blog and then Julia Roberts plays me in a movie about my blog.... You all are invited to my book signing by the way. There I go again with the "all". I have various versions of the back jacket photo they will use, floating around in my head. Where was I?
So, we are hoping we wrap this up by this weekend, because we are trading in our 2000 Honda Civic and I'm told it's better to drive the vehicle you are trading in as opposed to your husband behind the wheel and me and the kids pushing it into the lot, all the while ducking behind the trunk and making engine type noises to try and fool the salespeople into thinking that the car was running. I drove the Honda to work today and it chugged like a choo choo all the way. It's worse when I stop at lights, not sure why, but the thing vibrates but bad. I think I threw a disc out in my back. Also makes it kind of hard to drink coffee. I do believe I chipped a tooth taking a swig from my Starbucks Travel Mug. Thank GOD I wasn't applying make up at that time! It also doesn't show you in the best light to fellow drivers...hairs out of place (understatement), chipped tooth and your flailing around (because of the chugging) like you are possessed...Soooo attractive!
But I digress. I'm trying to think what will need to be offered up to the Gods in order for us to swing this car payment? No more meat for dinner? Name brand cereals? Heat? Clothing? So many choices. I absolutely put my foot down with the kids - they still bring in a nice tax deduction. Just so we are all on the same page (assuming there is an "all" reading this), we are not buying a high end vehicle like a Mercedes, BMW, etc... not even close. It is a toss up between a Yaris and a Fit. Ooooh so many choices! Both ride like a card board (corrugated) box with wheels on it - smooth. I believe my son's skate board rides nicer and could possibly have more leg room. To be honest the Scion is now in the picture as well because we were told that they do not ship the Yaris's with cruise control & fog lights to the Northeast. Ok, why? No, really, I would like to know why? You go into a dealer and they give you that lovely glossy brochure that lists all the options and the different prices, some of which come in packages, and on that list it clearly states Fog lights & cruise control as an option and there was NO disclaimer stating "Offer is not good in Dutchess County, NY". It's times like this you just want to go absolutely postal in a dealership (my apologies to all those fine postal workers out there who still remain perfectly sane). I realize we are dealing with sales people and they are a special breed of person. I also realize they are trying to unload the cars they have in stock (out in the dealer parking lot) rather than have new vehicles shipped in. All because some pain in the arse customer won't do as their told. So here I am trying to think why they would tell us this? Isn't it all about making the customer happy? As in big smile...we'll shop here for ever and ever because y'all are great! Hugs and kisses all the way around. No, some schmuck doesn't want to clean the snow off all the cars that are still left in the lot during winter - we sometimes get snow here in the Northeast, unlike some states like, oh I don't know... California?
My husband and I are pretty much both of the opinion, it needs to be reliable and get us (him) from point A to point B which is an hour each way, every single day. I figure when money is less tight....... had to stop for a moment because I was laughing/crying, we can get a nicer vehicle (for me!). Maybe when I'm discovered from writing this blog and somebody out there wants to make a book about me & my blog and then Julia Roberts plays me in a movie about my blog.... You all are invited to my book signing by the way. There I go again with the "all". I have various versions of the back jacket photo they will use, floating around in my head. Where was I?
So, we are hoping we wrap this up by this weekend, because we are trading in our 2000 Honda Civic and I'm told it's better to drive the vehicle you are trading in as opposed to your husband behind the wheel and me and the kids pushing it into the lot, all the while ducking behind the trunk and making engine type noises to try and fool the salespeople into thinking that the car was running. I drove the Honda to work today and it chugged like a choo choo all the way. It's worse when I stop at lights, not sure why, but the thing vibrates but bad. I think I threw a disc out in my back. Also makes it kind of hard to drink coffee. I do believe I chipped a tooth taking a swig from my Starbucks Travel Mug. Thank GOD I wasn't applying make up at that time! It also doesn't show you in the best light to fellow drivers...hairs out of place (understatement), chipped tooth and your flailing around (because of the chugging) like you are possessed...Soooo attractive!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Oldie but Goodie
Once again, I am recycling an old email while I gather new material for a fresh brand new blog coming soon to a blog near you....
This is an email to my sister Rita (she wanted me to change her name to protect her innocence). Ok, I'll humor her. She wanted me to ask my father a few questions for this book she picked up where you ask the "subject" a bunch of questions about themselves, about things they remember and because she lives in California or lets say Oregon for the sake of this blog, she wanted me to ask the questions during Thanksgiving Dinner. As for the leaf blower...someone wanted to buy my father a leaf blower for his birthday or some occasion where you give people stuff. Enjoy,,,
Dear Jeanette,
Thank you ever so much for giving me the really, really hard questions for Dad, he’ll be sobbing all over his turkey remembering first his happiest day and then the fact that it was so long ago and realize how old he’s getting, only to be bombarded with another question, what was your saddest? Now his turkey is drenched and completely inedible and the cranberry sauce is running into the mashed potatoes making it look like a bloody snowy battlefield. Bamm, we’re back in Korea…..no stopping now…. Here we might as well tied Dad up, bare foot, to the back of a car and dragged him down memory lane, leaving chunks of skin every ¼ mile or so….all for the sake of us having a lovely little book with his deepest most treasure memories so we could read it and laugh, sob or whatever. Absolutely no problem though, I’ll be sure to ask the questions.
Test date is 12/11 but can be postponed, if need be…..I’m going to try & avoid that, but it’s not looking very promising cause I’m just plain tired and work is sucking the life out of me and the holidays are coming and there is cat fur stuck to my kitchen floor so it looks like a shag carpet, but only in select spots. I’m up to my arse, no way past my arse, in laundry and the cat litter boxes are getting ready to just up and walk away. However, they are handy when you want to clear your sinuses out. Just walk up stairs and you slammed with this foul awful smell and you realize, WOW I can breathe again, then you realize, Holy Mother of GOD…I CAN BREATHE AGAIN AND I WISH I COULDN'T’T!!!!
As far as the leaf blower, good idea when you are just dealing with leaves, but he’s got the Acorns from Hell. You start blowing those around and it’s World War I all over again. I can see Gruter coming out to check out what the heck is hitting his house and scrambling to get back into the house when he realizes Bill is out of control with the leaf blower and can’t be stopped, not because he doesn’t want to, believe me he does, but the force of the air coming out of the thing is so strong it’s preventing him from standing and all the while he is still blowing leaves, with Acorns, like machine gun fire all over the neighborhood and Gruter screaming to get back into his house, because Doris locked him out. Bill is just waiting for the damn thing to run out of gas.
With that, I will end this rant. I do believe I have had way too much coffee.
Night,
Love always,
Mary
This is an email to my sister Rita (she wanted me to change her name to protect her innocence). Ok, I'll humor her. She wanted me to ask my father a few questions for this book she picked up where you ask the "subject" a bunch of questions about themselves, about things they remember and because she lives in California or lets say Oregon for the sake of this blog, she wanted me to ask the questions during Thanksgiving Dinner. As for the leaf blower...someone wanted to buy my father a leaf blower for his birthday or some occasion where you give people stuff. Enjoy,,,
Dear Jeanette,
Thank you ever so much for giving me the really, really hard questions for Dad, he’ll be sobbing all over his turkey remembering first his happiest day and then the fact that it was so long ago and realize how old he’s getting, only to be bombarded with another question, what was your saddest? Now his turkey is drenched and completely inedible and the cranberry sauce is running into the mashed potatoes making it look like a bloody snowy battlefield. Bamm, we’re back in Korea…..no stopping now…. Here we might as well tied Dad up, bare foot, to the back of a car and dragged him down memory lane, leaving chunks of skin every ¼ mile or so….all for the sake of us having a lovely little book with his deepest most treasure memories so we could read it and laugh, sob or whatever. Absolutely no problem though, I’ll be sure to ask the questions.
Test date is 12/11 but can be postponed, if need be…..I’m going to try & avoid that, but it’s not looking very promising cause I’m just plain tired and work is sucking the life out of me and the holidays are coming and there is cat fur stuck to my kitchen floor so it looks like a shag carpet, but only in select spots. I’m up to my arse, no way past my arse, in laundry and the cat litter boxes are getting ready to just up and walk away. However, they are handy when you want to clear your sinuses out. Just walk up stairs and you slammed with this foul awful smell and you realize, WOW I can breathe again, then you realize, Holy Mother of GOD…I CAN BREATHE AGAIN AND I WISH I COULDN'T’T!!!!
As far as the leaf blower, good idea when you are just dealing with leaves, but he’s got the Acorns from Hell. You start blowing those around and it’s World War I all over again. I can see Gruter coming out to check out what the heck is hitting his house and scrambling to get back into the house when he realizes Bill is out of control with the leaf blower and can’t be stopped, not because he doesn’t want to, believe me he does, but the force of the air coming out of the thing is so strong it’s preventing him from standing and all the while he is still blowing leaves, with Acorns, like machine gun fire all over the neighborhood and Gruter screaming to get back into his house, because Doris locked him out. Bill is just waiting for the damn thing to run out of gas.
With that, I will end this rant. I do believe I have had way too much coffee.
Night,
Love always,
Mary
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Love, Mary
This past weekend me and my family attended a walk for Nephcure at FDR park in Yorktown Heights, NY. The reason we attended the walk was because we had originally thought my Son had FSGS. That is a disease where there is scarring in the kidney's. I won't get into too much detail because the bottom line is he has been re-diagnosed with Dent's Disease. This too affects the kidneys but is a rare genetic disease. It would appear that I am a carrier. Great. Just one more thing my kid can tell the psychiatrist about when he's older. It really isn't my fault though - it comes from my mothers side of the family and I'm not sure if you can point a finger at any one person. Long story short, I believe it is a better diagnosis.
We did the walk anyway because it just didn't feel right bailing the cause just because we have a different diagnosis. I believe we had a moral obligation to stick with it. It's not like we took black magic marker...you know the kind, permanent with the real cool smell...and crossed out Nephcure and wrote Dents. That would have been in poor taste. Actually the thought crossed my mind, briefly. Besides, Dents Disease doesn't have an organization to call their own, at least that I know of. I could, if I had the time and energy, start my own, but there would only be like 3 members - hence the rare genetic disease thingy.
It was a beautiful fall day and the turnout for the walk was great. They had music, food, airbrush tattoo's for the kiddies (to prepare them for the real thing when they get older) and grown-ups if they felt the need. The biggest thrill was, Ronald McDonald was there. OMG!!!! that means Oh MY GOD for all you old timers. I couldn't believe it - pinch me will you? He managed to get his madeup mug into every photo and he was working that crowd like the true professional he is. His makeup was flawless and that bright, flaming red hair - pinch me again. My cousin, Bryan's son, managed to get Ronald or Donald as he called him, all ticked off. Not pretty for a clown, let me tell you. He decided to walk right up to that oh-so-talented entertainer and ask him what kinds of low sodium items will McDonalds be featuring on their menu this year. Ronald mumbled and moved on the the smaller kids who couldn't quite form sentences yet. Then in my families usual fashion... we tend to do things to embarrass ourselves, my daughter dressed up in this silly bear costume (i couldn't get my mind off of what kinds of germs are festering inside that costume) and laid down on the ground so Reily, my cousins son, could pretend like he shot the bear on a hunting expedition. He posed with a stick as his rifle and one foot firmly placed on the bears abdomin - thank GOD it wasn't a walk for Peta!!! We would have been stoned. Everyone was looking at us, wondering, I bet, why we couldn't show just a little decorum..... had we no shame?? Nope, none. None at all.
I was happy to be part of this walk and I was proud of the people that I walked with with. I didn't think it possible - but I loved my family even more. As strange as it might sound, I felt guilty. FSGS is horrible. Horrible for the people/children it affects, horrible for the parents who live with the worry everyday. I caught a brief glimpse of that worry and heartache for myself and it took it's toll on me for that period of time we thought our son had that disease. Now, I realize compared to others, it was just a blink of an eye. I am relieved, relieved to the point that I could exhale for the first time and now can't stop. I also feel great remorse that I get to feel relieved and others do not... My son will get treatment for his disease and I believe, I have to believe, the prognosis is very good for him. My son, with the smile as easy as a summer day, his beautiful blue laughing eyes, golden hair and incredible child like energy that causes him to jump out of bed and just live to play as children should - will do well, will live long and for this I am grateful. I look at him and just want to hold him, to hold on to this moment and remember what we almost went through and be so grateful - I need to be grateful every single day for the rest of my life. I need to look at him and know, nothing is so terrible as long as my children are well. My newly found gray hair will stay and my heart still aches when I let my mind go to that place where I remember what we went through, what it felt like, but it aches even more for those still living and agonizing over their diagnosis, the treatments, the mornings their child is unable to jump out of bed to swallow up the day - it will continue to ache.
To my family. Thank you for checking in, thanks for asking, thank you for the kind words, prayers and thoughts - they helped, they did as is evident by the new diagnosis. I am overwhelmed by the love that is my family.
Love Always,
Mary
We did the walk anyway because it just didn't feel right bailing the cause just because we have a different diagnosis. I believe we had a moral obligation to stick with it. It's not like we took black magic marker...you know the kind, permanent with the real cool smell...and crossed out Nephcure and wrote Dents. That would have been in poor taste. Actually the thought crossed my mind, briefly. Besides, Dents Disease doesn't have an organization to call their own, at least that I know of. I could, if I had the time and energy, start my own, but there would only be like 3 members - hence the rare genetic disease thingy.
It was a beautiful fall day and the turnout for the walk was great. They had music, food, airbrush tattoo's for the kiddies (to prepare them for the real thing when they get older) and grown-ups if they felt the need. The biggest thrill was, Ronald McDonald was there. OMG!!!! that means Oh MY GOD for all you old timers. I couldn't believe it - pinch me will you? He managed to get his madeup mug into every photo and he was working that crowd like the true professional he is. His makeup was flawless and that bright, flaming red hair - pinch me again. My cousin, Bryan's son, managed to get Ronald or Donald as he called him, all ticked off. Not pretty for a clown, let me tell you. He decided to walk right up to that oh-so-talented entertainer and ask him what kinds of low sodium items will McDonalds be featuring on their menu this year. Ronald mumbled and moved on the the smaller kids who couldn't quite form sentences yet. Then in my families usual fashion... we tend to do things to embarrass ourselves, my daughter dressed up in this silly bear costume (i couldn't get my mind off of what kinds of germs are festering inside that costume) and laid down on the ground so Reily, my cousins son, could pretend like he shot the bear on a hunting expedition. He posed with a stick as his rifle and one foot firmly placed on the bears abdomin - thank GOD it wasn't a walk for Peta!!! We would have been stoned. Everyone was looking at us, wondering, I bet, why we couldn't show just a little decorum..... had we no shame?? Nope, none. None at all.
I was happy to be part of this walk and I was proud of the people that I walked with with. I didn't think it possible - but I loved my family even more. As strange as it might sound, I felt guilty. FSGS is horrible. Horrible for the people/children it affects, horrible for the parents who live with the worry everyday. I caught a brief glimpse of that worry and heartache for myself and it took it's toll on me for that period of time we thought our son had that disease. Now, I realize compared to others, it was just a blink of an eye. I am relieved, relieved to the point that I could exhale for the first time and now can't stop. I also feel great remorse that I get to feel relieved and others do not... My son will get treatment for his disease and I believe, I have to believe, the prognosis is very good for him. My son, with the smile as easy as a summer day, his beautiful blue laughing eyes, golden hair and incredible child like energy that causes him to jump out of bed and just live to play as children should - will do well, will live long and for this I am grateful. I look at him and just want to hold him, to hold on to this moment and remember what we almost went through and be so grateful - I need to be grateful every single day for the rest of my life. I need to look at him and know, nothing is so terrible as long as my children are well. My newly found gray hair will stay and my heart still aches when I let my mind go to that place where I remember what we went through, what it felt like, but it aches even more for those still living and agonizing over their diagnosis, the treatments, the mornings their child is unable to jump out of bed to swallow up the day - it will continue to ache.
To my family. Thank you for checking in, thanks for asking, thank you for the kind words, prayers and thoughts - they helped, they did as is evident by the new diagnosis. I am overwhelmed by the love that is my family.
Love Always,
Mary
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Too Big for It's Britches
Last weekend, my husband and I had to attend my daughter's first open house at her high school. We thought it was important that we both attend given the fact that she is a freshman and we wanted to meet all her teachers up close and personal so they could see why she is the way she is (yes it's all our fault). Pat us on the back for a job well done, right?
We were a bit nervous, because we had been warned by many people that this High School is huge! Looking back, heelies would have been appropriate or a scooter. Apparently the School District, in it's infinite wisdom decided the school needed to be ENLARGED because of the ever expanding population here in rural Dutchess County, NY. No the locals aren't up to anything funny....it's people from counties south of us moving up for the better pricing, which really isn't all that great right now. The School District & the powers that be, kept having this same brilliant idea, year after year after year. Hey, I have an idea! Let's add an addition (round of applause) times five. I believe the suggestion that another High School should be built was mentioned at some point, but that could be just urban legend as the person that purportedly made the suggestion is no longer "around". They keep slapping on these additions so now we are at the point where this High School is beyond ginormous (not a real word). My daughter's freshman class consists of a mere 800 + kids. I don't know about you, but I get concerned when 10 or more teenagers start congregating - let alone 800 in just one class! We'll need to take a week off for the graduating ceremony....ugh.
Anywhoo, my husband and I went armed with this knowledge, and were scared to death. The first clue that this was a mess in the making was the "attendants" who were directing all the other scared-to-death parents into the parking lot. I do believe they were ex-marines. God forbid you even looked in a general direction of someplace you would not be allowed to go- they knew it...and waived their florescent light saber in the direction they would make you go whether you liked it or not. As we were walking toward the main entrance or "The Bubble" as some like to call it, there were dozens of parents outside chatting away on their cell phones. What on earth could be so important? We were about to be swallowed whole by this school - were they saying goodbye to loved ones? The ironic thing is, to me anyway, there was a giant "No Smoking" sign and my mind went where it often goes. There was a time, not too long ago, parents would be puffing away outside "The Bubble", not talking on cell phones cuz there weren't any. Hmmm....will there be a sign 10 years from now with a cell phone in a circle with a line through it - and what will replace that?
As we were trying to navigate our way to the classes my daughter takes and me marveling at the fact she made it home after the first day and search teams weren't needed to find her, my husband mumbled that they should really hand out GPS devices. He cracks me up. By the end of the night, I was exhausted and we were late to about 3 classes, and missed Gym because it was in Weight Room 1 and we could not for the life of us find Weight Room 1. We saw Weight room 2, 3 & 4 not to mention, Gym's 1, 2 & 3 as we were going by Cafeteria A & B, not to be confused with Cafeteria C & D......EEEEK!
We were a bit nervous, because we had been warned by many people that this High School is huge! Looking back, heelies would have been appropriate or a scooter. Apparently the School District, in it's infinite wisdom decided the school needed to be ENLARGED because of the ever expanding population here in rural Dutchess County, NY. No the locals aren't up to anything funny....it's people from counties south of us moving up for the better pricing, which really isn't all that great right now. The School District & the powers that be, kept having this same brilliant idea, year after year after year. Hey, I have an idea! Let's add an addition (round of applause) times five. I believe the suggestion that another High School should be built was mentioned at some point, but that could be just urban legend as the person that purportedly made the suggestion is no longer "around". They keep slapping on these additions so now we are at the point where this High School is beyond ginormous (not a real word). My daughter's freshman class consists of a mere 800 + kids. I don't know about you, but I get concerned when 10 or more teenagers start congregating - let alone 800 in just one class! We'll need to take a week off for the graduating ceremony....ugh.
Anywhoo, my husband and I went armed with this knowledge, and were scared to death. The first clue that this was a mess in the making was the "attendants" who were directing all the other scared-to-death parents into the parking lot. I do believe they were ex-marines. God forbid you even looked in a general direction of someplace you would not be allowed to go- they knew it...and waived their florescent light saber in the direction they would make you go whether you liked it or not. As we were walking toward the main entrance or "The Bubble" as some like to call it, there were dozens of parents outside chatting away on their cell phones. What on earth could be so important? We were about to be swallowed whole by this school - were they saying goodbye to loved ones? The ironic thing is, to me anyway, there was a giant "No Smoking" sign and my mind went where it often goes. There was a time, not too long ago, parents would be puffing away outside "The Bubble", not talking on cell phones cuz there weren't any. Hmmm....will there be a sign 10 years from now with a cell phone in a circle with a line through it - and what will replace that?
As we were trying to navigate our way to the classes my daughter takes and me marveling at the fact she made it home after the first day and search teams weren't needed to find her, my husband mumbled that they should really hand out GPS devices. He cracks me up. By the end of the night, I was exhausted and we were late to about 3 classes, and missed Gym because it was in Weight Room 1 and we could not for the life of us find Weight Room 1. We saw Weight room 2, 3 & 4 not to mention, Gym's 1, 2 & 3 as we were going by Cafeteria A & B, not to be confused with Cafeteria C & D......EEEEK!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Something to read...
I've run out of books to read and desperately need more, but that would require a trip to either Barnes & Noble and I'd need money for that or our local free Library, which in my case also requires money, because I'm a chronic late returner of books. Why I continually return books late, I have no idea and as more time goes by, it gets worse until I dress in all black, drive to the library at midnight to drop my books in the book drop knowing eventually I'll have to go back and pay the fine. Either that, or I send my kids in to face the wrath of the librarian.
So, I've decided to read the Constitution of these here United States of America. I'm not clear why, but I'm hoping it becomes clear as I stumble through. As a bonus, I am going to share my thoughts on what our founding fathers compiled on crinkly parchment paper - did the crinkly parchment thing happen over time with age? Was the paper crisp and white at the time of the writing? Did a founding father spill his tea on the document? All very interesting questions, at least to me and I'm quite certain some scholar out there knows the answers.
I'll start with the Preamble, 0f course. In 1787 what do you think they meant by "We the People"? I've given it some thought. Picture a bunch of white guys in nickers and wigs, stooped over small wooden desks with quill pens...writing down, "We the People". Who do you think they meant? Did they envision that in the not so distant future it would include black people, women? I'm inclined to say no...they probably thought that it would always mean fairly well-to-do white men, who owned land. I'm pretty sure their wigs would go limp if they knew that now everyone is included in the whole "We the People" thing. To their credit, sometimes being vague works out for the best - leaves things open for improvement or interpretation. Bet those guys would have killed for a computer back then...the editing process must have been a royal pain in the knickers and I'm guessing there was no such thing as home keys back then and they probably would have killed for some whiteout. They would have had to get one of their wives, who don't fall under the category of "People" to type the damm thing all the while glaring at these silly white dudes in knickers.
The rest of the Preamble seems pretty clear; however, at some point or other in our history I do believe all have been put to the test. Perfect union, establish Justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, general welfare, blah, blah, blah. All really good stuff and let's keep in mind this is just the opening remarks to the actual Constitution of These Here United States of Americas - God I love saying that - makes me giggle. What I did learn in reading this fine document, is that you can't file a lawsuit based on the Preamble. 1905 Jacobson v. Massachusetts. Mr. Jacobson, or let's call him Henning, apparently was afraid of shots - big baby, and didn't want to get his Small Pox vaccination, but rather than admit to his fears, Henning claimed his liberty was violated, boo hoo. Come on really, it's not like they were going to give him the shot in his arse...actually I'm not sure on that one, it might have been the way that shot was given, in which case, I would agree that his "liberty" had been violated. Any whoo the Supreme Court also thought he was a bit of a baby and needed to man up and get his shot and I'm sure they were thinking of the greater good. Oooh, wouldn't that fall under either "common defense" or "promoting the general welfare"? The Supreme Court said (another bunch of white guys but wearing black robes - scary) that the Preamble is just a wish list, it's not the end all. Duh...good try though Henning. Bet you he was real grateful when he didn't get small pox. I hear tell it's nasty.
So, I've decided to read the Constitution of these here United States of America. I'm not clear why, but I'm hoping it becomes clear as I stumble through. As a bonus, I am going to share my thoughts on what our founding fathers compiled on crinkly parchment paper - did the crinkly parchment thing happen over time with age? Was the paper crisp and white at the time of the writing? Did a founding father spill his tea on the document? All very interesting questions, at least to me and I'm quite certain some scholar out there knows the answers.
I'll start with the Preamble, 0f course. In 1787 what do you think they meant by "We the People"? I've given it some thought. Picture a bunch of white guys in nickers and wigs, stooped over small wooden desks with quill pens...writing down, "We the People". Who do you think they meant? Did they envision that in the not so distant future it would include black people, women? I'm inclined to say no...they probably thought that it would always mean fairly well-to-do white men, who owned land. I'm pretty sure their wigs would go limp if they knew that now everyone is included in the whole "We the People" thing. To their credit, sometimes being vague works out for the best - leaves things open for improvement or interpretation. Bet those guys would have killed for a computer back then...the editing process must have been a royal pain in the knickers and I'm guessing there was no such thing as home keys back then and they probably would have killed for some whiteout. They would have had to get one of their wives, who don't fall under the category of "People" to type the damm thing all the while glaring at these silly white dudes in knickers.
The rest of the Preamble seems pretty clear; however, at some point or other in our history I do believe all have been put to the test. Perfect union, establish Justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, general welfare, blah, blah, blah. All really good stuff and let's keep in mind this is just the opening remarks to the actual Constitution of These Here United States of Americas - God I love saying that - makes me giggle. What I did learn in reading this fine document, is that you can't file a lawsuit based on the Preamble. 1905 Jacobson v. Massachusetts. Mr. Jacobson, or let's call him Henning, apparently was afraid of shots - big baby, and didn't want to get his Small Pox vaccination, but rather than admit to his fears, Henning claimed his liberty was violated, boo hoo. Come on really, it's not like they were going to give him the shot in his arse...actually I'm not sure on that one, it might have been the way that shot was given, in which case, I would agree that his "liberty" had been violated. Any whoo the Supreme Court also thought he was a bit of a baby and needed to man up and get his shot and I'm sure they were thinking of the greater good. Oooh, wouldn't that fall under either "common defense" or "promoting the general welfare"? The Supreme Court said (another bunch of white guys but wearing black robes - scary) that the Preamble is just a wish list, it's not the end all. Duh...good try though Henning. Bet you he was real grateful when he didn't get small pox. I hear tell it's nasty.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Recycling is a good thing
Once again, I'm recycling an email sent to my dear eldest sibling... again, this is how it all started (blogging). I was writing my crazy rambling thoughts to her and not the other siblings, who started to feel left out. The blog thing keeps everyone in the loop as to how crazy I really am.
Dear Jeanette,
Ok as promised, here is yet another fun filled experience at the Doctor’s office. Sort of like an amusement park with wild rides & games, but not really.
It was my trial day at our outer office to see if I would like it and could make my decision based on that, which to be honest, my mind was made up when I realized 20min commute vs. 1 hour….. the math says it all. However, on a day where anyone would want to make a good impression with their potential new co-workers, I had an abscess that went bad. Similar to a “drug deal gone bad” but without all the shooting and DEA officers in full swat gear barreling at you with tazers. To be honest though, if you ever had an abscess gone bad, DEA officers pinning you to the ground with their knees and shooting you full of electricity would have been a welcome relief from the pain & discomfort of an abscess. When I say it went bad, it went beyond one tooth to the whole left side of my face, into my sinus cavity and pressing up against my nose, and inflated the left side of my face like I had wads and wads of cotton, or a whole roll of bath tissue stuck in there. It was extremely painful and I couldn’t take enough ibuprofen without the threat of dialysis. Then there was the whole appearance thing…. I had to try & style my hair to cover the alien growing in my mouth and working it’s way to my brain for the final take over. My soon to be, new co-workers were very nice though and didn’t say anything like “Holy crap, what’s wrong with your face?”.
I managed to get through the day and decided it was time to seek medical assistance. Some might say that I should have gone at the very first sign of an abscess and they have, but let me explain. I thought the not so little bugger was going away what with the baking soda rinses, and bacteria killing mouthwash treatments, but I woke up to find the bacteria were merely resting for the ultimate take over. While I dozed, they got busy and I woke up with the whole swollen face thing. I went the local Medi Care office as they have something of a file on me and don’t require an appointment which was clearly evident when I walked in the place and couldn’t find a seat. So I checked in and settled down to watch some TV. When the receptionist called me over, I thought I must be a pretty big deal to get in before everyone else, but NO, she just wanted to verify my insurance information. When I asked her how long the wait was she told me about 1 ½ hours!! I was going to leave, but the pain kept me there. So I sat back down and decided I’ll just relax and watch some TV. There was a lady sitting with her husband, boyfriend, partner, whatever, who I believe had some nasty airborne disease that we thought we eradicated years ago, but not so much, because she sounded HORRIBLE!! Great, I come here with an abscess and leave with typhoid or TB. Sharing is caring. If the DR. came out and called my name, I had already planned on insisting they take her first, or better yet, let’s dial 911 and get this poor soul to the ER – than we can start the process of sealing off the building and contacting the CDC to come in to quarantine us all. Finally, after about an 1 ½ hours…by the way, that receptionist is good, they called my name. I went into the exam room sat up on the crinkly paper stuff (I swear one of these days I’m just going to doodle all over it) and waited, and waited, and waited…. Started playing with the instruments and thought briefly about lying back and taking a quick nap. About ½ hour later, the Dr. came in… he could have been a mechanic at this point – anything, just get rid of it and let me go home before I gnaw my own arm off out of hunger. The usual “So, what brings you here today?”. Times like these I’d love to mess around and just say, I have a hemorrhoid…. Duh. I explained, “I haf an infecsion im my mouf”. He being a Doctor of Internal Medicine with a degree from some Medical School and all that neat stuff Dr's have, wisely said, “why yes, I can see that.” Hey, how bout you can hear it too? Picture this though…he’s standing across the room from me like he was afraid to get to close. He’s probably thinking, the thing im my mouf is going to blow any minute spewing abcessesy liquid all over his sparkly white lab coat and name tag. Then I’m sure the Dr. in him kicked in and being I waited out in the waiting room with Whooping cough lady for an hour and half, he probably should take a look at the beast. So he meanders over to the extreme left side of the exam table and grabs the little flashlighty thing on the wall (I was playing with that before he came in) and asks me to open up – standing back as far as he possible could while pointing the light in the general direction of my face….”hmmm yes, it’s an abscess”…than scurries back over to the “safe” side of the room and grabs his prescription pad probably thinking he can use it as a shield if Mt. Saint Abscess erupts. He writes me the strongest prescription of antibiotic I have ever had….to be frank I didn’t know they came in doses that strong and warned me several times to eat before taking. Great, I can’t eat right now, so I’ll have to drive to Friendly’s and bulk up on a Fribble. I think he did that to prevent me from having to come back at all because I apparently frightened him. Boy, what was he like as an intern? Big baby. I was probably in there for all about 7 minutes and couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there and away from Lung Flung lady, who was in the exam room next to mine spreading what ever airborne illness she had.
The end of the story is…the abscess is gone. I need to make an appointment for the dentist, but I really don’t want to. I’m thinking of moving to a deserted Island where I could say, I can’t go to the Dentist because there aren’t any. So there. But then again, who would I say anything to being it is a deserted Island? Huh HA, I don’t have to answer to anyone! Unless of course I have a volley ball with a face drawn on it and a tuff of hair poking out the top and it was my bestest friend in the whole world…quick, what movie was that?
Love,Mary
Dear Jeanette,
Ok as promised, here is yet another fun filled experience at the Doctor’s office. Sort of like an amusement park with wild rides & games, but not really.
It was my trial day at our outer office to see if I would like it and could make my decision based on that, which to be honest, my mind was made up when I realized 20min commute vs. 1 hour….. the math says it all. However, on a day where anyone would want to make a good impression with their potential new co-workers, I had an abscess that went bad. Similar to a “drug deal gone bad” but without all the shooting and DEA officers in full swat gear barreling at you with tazers. To be honest though, if you ever had an abscess gone bad, DEA officers pinning you to the ground with their knees and shooting you full of electricity would have been a welcome relief from the pain & discomfort of an abscess. When I say it went bad, it went beyond one tooth to the whole left side of my face, into my sinus cavity and pressing up against my nose, and inflated the left side of my face like I had wads and wads of cotton, or a whole roll of bath tissue stuck in there. It was extremely painful and I couldn’t take enough ibuprofen without the threat of dialysis. Then there was the whole appearance thing…. I had to try & style my hair to cover the alien growing in my mouth and working it’s way to my brain for the final take over. My soon to be, new co-workers were very nice though and didn’t say anything like “Holy crap, what’s wrong with your face?”.
I managed to get through the day and decided it was time to seek medical assistance. Some might say that I should have gone at the very first sign of an abscess and they have, but let me explain. I thought the not so little bugger was going away what with the baking soda rinses, and bacteria killing mouthwash treatments, but I woke up to find the bacteria were merely resting for the ultimate take over. While I dozed, they got busy and I woke up with the whole swollen face thing. I went the local Medi Care office as they have something of a file on me and don’t require an appointment which was clearly evident when I walked in the place and couldn’t find a seat. So I checked in and settled down to watch some TV. When the receptionist called me over, I thought I must be a pretty big deal to get in before everyone else, but NO, she just wanted to verify my insurance information. When I asked her how long the wait was she told me about 1 ½ hours!! I was going to leave, but the pain kept me there. So I sat back down and decided I’ll just relax and watch some TV. There was a lady sitting with her husband, boyfriend, partner, whatever, who I believe had some nasty airborne disease that we thought we eradicated years ago, but not so much, because she sounded HORRIBLE!! Great, I come here with an abscess and leave with typhoid or TB. Sharing is caring. If the DR. came out and called my name, I had already planned on insisting they take her first, or better yet, let’s dial 911 and get this poor soul to the ER – than we can start the process of sealing off the building and contacting the CDC to come in to quarantine us all. Finally, after about an 1 ½ hours…by the way, that receptionist is good, they called my name. I went into the exam room sat up on the crinkly paper stuff (I swear one of these days I’m just going to doodle all over it) and waited, and waited, and waited…. Started playing with the instruments and thought briefly about lying back and taking a quick nap. About ½ hour later, the Dr. came in… he could have been a mechanic at this point – anything, just get rid of it and let me go home before I gnaw my own arm off out of hunger. The usual “So, what brings you here today?”. Times like these I’d love to mess around and just say, I have a hemorrhoid…. Duh. I explained, “I haf an infecsion im my mouf”. He being a Doctor of Internal Medicine with a degree from some Medical School and all that neat stuff Dr's have, wisely said, “why yes, I can see that.” Hey, how bout you can hear it too? Picture this though…he’s standing across the room from me like he was afraid to get to close. He’s probably thinking, the thing im my mouf is going to blow any minute spewing abcessesy liquid all over his sparkly white lab coat and name tag. Then I’m sure the Dr. in him kicked in and being I waited out in the waiting room with Whooping cough lady for an hour and half, he probably should take a look at the beast. So he meanders over to the extreme left side of the exam table and grabs the little flashlighty thing on the wall (I was playing with that before he came in) and asks me to open up – standing back as far as he possible could while pointing the light in the general direction of my face….”hmmm yes, it’s an abscess”…than scurries back over to the “safe” side of the room and grabs his prescription pad probably thinking he can use it as a shield if Mt. Saint Abscess erupts. He writes me the strongest prescription of antibiotic I have ever had….to be frank I didn’t know they came in doses that strong and warned me several times to eat before taking. Great, I can’t eat right now, so I’ll have to drive to Friendly’s and bulk up on a Fribble. I think he did that to prevent me from having to come back at all because I apparently frightened him. Boy, what was he like as an intern? Big baby. I was probably in there for all about 7 minutes and couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there and away from Lung Flung lady, who was in the exam room next to mine spreading what ever airborne illness she had.
The end of the story is…the abscess is gone. I need to make an appointment for the dentist, but I really don’t want to. I’m thinking of moving to a deserted Island where I could say, I can’t go to the Dentist because there aren’t any. So there. But then again, who would I say anything to being it is a deserted Island? Huh HA, I don’t have to answer to anyone! Unless of course I have a volley ball with a face drawn on it and a tuff of hair poking out the top and it was my bestest friend in the whole world…quick, what movie was that?
Love,Mary
Sunday, September 6, 2009
At a loss...
My sister Jeanette (my eldest sibling) said that I could recycle some old emails I had sent to her to use on my blog. Truth be told, her emails are the beginning of all of this... me, late at night and feeling really punchy sending her an email on various events in my life, most of which I find hysterical. The email I'll be sharing tonight is one sent a little over a year ago when I attended a banquet my sister Leigh (second to youngest sibling) was going to for a weight loss contest she had entered. There is a lead into the weight loss banquet, so be patient...and forgiving? Without further adieu....
Dear Jeanette,
I came up stairs to clean the cat litter and the poop that doesn’t make it to the litter pans (Massie), and thought I’d check to see if you wrote back…and walla you did! Yeah me! So that cat litter is not being changed at this very moment, but I am writing an email to you (my favorite but don’t tell the others).
I just found out I’m a generation Xer. Who knew? I certainly did not. Love it when people label me and lump me in with a bunch of other people. What are you? Generation x or baby boomer? What does the X stand for? Excess? That would be appropriate. I’m all for killing off the baby boomers to solve our Social Security problem. Or better yet, send them over to Iraq to relieve the soldiers there and those who emerge from the war intact….can continue to collect. I hope you know I’m kidding….. I’m not that twisted…well, OK maybe I am.
I went to a weight loss banquet with Leigh on Thursday. It was the end of a competition that all the gyms in this area were having. They broke people up into age categories, 18 – 28, 29- 39, 40 – 48 and the baby boomers (ha, ha). They took before photo’s and then the final photo for judging. In-between these people had to lose weight, tone up, buff up, etc and were judged on their final photo and an essay. Leigh lost something like 35 pounds and 5 inches and it was noticeable in her photo. She looked much more toned and her waste shoulders and arms were leaner. I was so impressed and so proud of her. So when you hear banquet you think lots of food right? No. Wrong. I was hoping for a buffet, because I love them and if you prepare and bring zip locks you can feed your family for a week. They passed around appetizers on a tray…sushi, fruit kabobs?, cheese ham & tom kabobs (all about 1 inch in length and a diameter of about ½ an inch. I made the mistake of asking when the cocktail weenies were coming out. The scathing looks I received! You would think I asked for crack! To save myself, I suggested soy cocktail weenies wrapped in whole wheat..yeah I gagged too. The waiter came around with meatballs with tomato sauce on a tray with tooth picks stuck into the meat balls. Keep in mind, we had NO plates, just napkins in which to eat off of. When the guy came around with the meatballs, I asked it I could have some pasta to go with mine. Again, dirty look, walk off to serve the meatballs to the starving masses just grateful for something to eat. I had to go to the rest room, and passed the bar….boy these people can drink or maybe drinking takes their minds off the fact that they are starving and every muscle in their bodies is screaming to be left alone? I was in the bathroom and they had those new fangeld sinks & paper towel dispensers that have sensors…either my body is not emitting any heat whatsoever and the machine doesn’t know I’m there waiting to wash & dry or it’s a big joke on me. I’m trying to get a paper towel to dry with and it just wasn’t working. I mumbled to the girl in the bathroom that I hated those things and I’d be better off running around the bathroom flailing my hands in order to dry them. It was either that or toilet paper and I had an idea how that would work out…I’d be picking bits o’ toilet paper off my hands the rest of the evening. I went with flailing. Seemed like the best choice at the time not to mention, good exercise.
After all the awards were handed out, Leigh didn’t win anything, but she really did. She looked great, you could tell she felt great and she is going to keep it up! She was a winner without a doubt that night and if I had an award to give her, I would have. Any way, we were saying our goodbyes to the people at our table and I yelled to them as they were walking away…”See you at McDonalds”… the looks! The glares! Almost as if I screamed “Fried Chicken with mashed & gravy and some Cheese Cake” which sounds like it would have been fun, but only if I made it out alive. It’s all fun & games until they have to call an ambulance, or the swat team. I think Leigh was glad I was there. Cuz I’m just so much fun.
Gotta go change cat litter now. Enjoy your Sunday!
Love,
Mary
Dear Jeanette,
I came up stairs to clean the cat litter and the poop that doesn’t make it to the litter pans (Massie), and thought I’d check to see if you wrote back…and walla you did! Yeah me! So that cat litter is not being changed at this very moment, but I am writing an email to you (my favorite but don’t tell the others).
I just found out I’m a generation Xer. Who knew? I certainly did not. Love it when people label me and lump me in with a bunch of other people. What are you? Generation x or baby boomer? What does the X stand for? Excess? That would be appropriate. I’m all for killing off the baby boomers to solve our Social Security problem. Or better yet, send them over to Iraq to relieve the soldiers there and those who emerge from the war intact….can continue to collect. I hope you know I’m kidding….. I’m not that twisted…well, OK maybe I am.
I went to a weight loss banquet with Leigh on Thursday. It was the end of a competition that all the gyms in this area were having. They broke people up into age categories, 18 – 28, 29- 39, 40 – 48 and the baby boomers (ha, ha). They took before photo’s and then the final photo for judging. In-between these people had to lose weight, tone up, buff up, etc and were judged on their final photo and an essay. Leigh lost something like 35 pounds and 5 inches and it was noticeable in her photo. She looked much more toned and her waste shoulders and arms were leaner. I was so impressed and so proud of her. So when you hear banquet you think lots of food right? No. Wrong. I was hoping for a buffet, because I love them and if you prepare and bring zip locks you can feed your family for a week. They passed around appetizers on a tray…sushi, fruit kabobs?, cheese ham & tom kabobs (all about 1 inch in length and a diameter of about ½ an inch. I made the mistake of asking when the cocktail weenies were coming out. The scathing looks I received! You would think I asked for crack! To save myself, I suggested soy cocktail weenies wrapped in whole wheat..yeah I gagged too. The waiter came around with meatballs with tomato sauce on a tray with tooth picks stuck into the meat balls. Keep in mind, we had NO plates, just napkins in which to eat off of. When the guy came around with the meatballs, I asked it I could have some pasta to go with mine. Again, dirty look, walk off to serve the meatballs to the starving masses just grateful for something to eat. I had to go to the rest room, and passed the bar….boy these people can drink or maybe drinking takes their minds off the fact that they are starving and every muscle in their bodies is screaming to be left alone? I was in the bathroom and they had those new fangeld sinks & paper towel dispensers that have sensors…either my body is not emitting any heat whatsoever and the machine doesn’t know I’m there waiting to wash & dry or it’s a big joke on me. I’m trying to get a paper towel to dry with and it just wasn’t working. I mumbled to the girl in the bathroom that I hated those things and I’d be better off running around the bathroom flailing my hands in order to dry them. It was either that or toilet paper and I had an idea how that would work out…I’d be picking bits o’ toilet paper off my hands the rest of the evening. I went with flailing. Seemed like the best choice at the time not to mention, good exercise.
After all the awards were handed out, Leigh didn’t win anything, but she really did. She looked great, you could tell she felt great and she is going to keep it up! She was a winner without a doubt that night and if I had an award to give her, I would have. Any way, we were saying our goodbyes to the people at our table and I yelled to them as they were walking away…”See you at McDonalds”… the looks! The glares! Almost as if I screamed “Fried Chicken with mashed & gravy and some Cheese Cake” which sounds like it would have been fun, but only if I made it out alive. It’s all fun & games until they have to call an ambulance, or the swat team. I think Leigh was glad I was there. Cuz I’m just so much fun.
Gotta go change cat litter now. Enjoy your Sunday!
Love,
Mary
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Climbing Mountains
You would think that just by the title of this blog I was going to write something really profound and life altering, but no, not so much - not really my style. BUT if you want to read something into it, by all means, be my guest and do share.
I hadn't seen my cousin Brian & his wife Kate for some time and I suggested we get together. They agreed and we planned to meet this weekend to go for a "walk" and pick blue berries. Sounded really nice and wholesome to me and I thought it would be good to do something outdoorsy. My husband, Matt/Bart couldn't make it because he was sent to Cape Cod by his work last Monday and they asked him to stay longer which he reluctantly agreed too...Poor Matt/Bart...I feel horrible for him stuck in Cape Cod. So it was just me and the kids off to Ellenville, NY to go for a "walk" and spend time with my Cousin, his wife and their two boys, Reily & Sully.
Turns out the walk was up a mountain with inclines even your most ardent hikers would have difficulty with. I discovered I had muscles I never knew about and they were screaming. My cousins wife Kate is physically fit, and exercises on a daily basis so she was going along at a nice clip, but my kids & I hung back pretending to be captivated by the views, which to be honest I couldn't really see because I was blinded by the pain. We were then going to climb down to take a peek at the Ice Caves that they have at Sams Point... Sams Point is a giant mound of layered rock that goes straight up about 25 - 30 feet. They say, Sam, the guy they named this after, hurled him self off the highest place on this rock. Now this is pure speculation on my part, but I think he had a friend or cousin that talked him into walking up there and he didn't really hurl himself off the side, he just couldn't feel his legs anymore and slithered off the edge.. I think I know how he felt. Now all he has to show for it is a giant mound of rock named after him, until Donald Trump buys the place, to build a resort and/or casino, and names it after himself. Trumps Point. Has a nice ring.
We then started walking down to the Ice Caves. Here I thought down is certainly better than up, wrong again. It was a bit treacherous and I had a moment to reflect out loud...really loud...for all to hear...that this wasn't how I planned to go after my 44 years of managing to stay alive....I was thinking...80 years, I'm in bed all comfy cosy and then, and only then, do I slip quietly, comfortably, peacefully into eternal rest. Not falling down the side of some mountain named after some guy named Sam, who couldn't cut it, in a sweaty, disheveled heap at the bottom. Pony tail on the side of my head instead of the back, teeth knocked out from the fall, legs wrapped around my head with my femur jutting out...no, that's not what I had in mind at all.
Is there some hidden moral to this story? I'm sure if your read it 4 or 20 times you'll find one and I'm dying to hear it. Would I do it again? Probably, but I'd load up on calcium (for my bones) and wear a helmet.
I hadn't seen my cousin Brian & his wife Kate for some time and I suggested we get together. They agreed and we planned to meet this weekend to go for a "walk" and pick blue berries. Sounded really nice and wholesome to me and I thought it would be good to do something outdoorsy. My husband, Matt/Bart couldn't make it because he was sent to Cape Cod by his work last Monday and they asked him to stay longer which he reluctantly agreed too...Poor Matt/Bart...I feel horrible for him stuck in Cape Cod. So it was just me and the kids off to Ellenville, NY to go for a "walk" and spend time with my Cousin, his wife and their two boys, Reily & Sully.
Turns out the walk was up a mountain with inclines even your most ardent hikers would have difficulty with. I discovered I had muscles I never knew about and they were screaming. My cousins wife Kate is physically fit, and exercises on a daily basis so she was going along at a nice clip, but my kids & I hung back pretending to be captivated by the views, which to be honest I couldn't really see because I was blinded by the pain. We were then going to climb down to take a peek at the Ice Caves that they have at Sams Point... Sams Point is a giant mound of layered rock that goes straight up about 25 - 30 feet. They say, Sam, the guy they named this after, hurled him self off the highest place on this rock. Now this is pure speculation on my part, but I think he had a friend or cousin that talked him into walking up there and he didn't really hurl himself off the side, he just couldn't feel his legs anymore and slithered off the edge.. I think I know how he felt. Now all he has to show for it is a giant mound of rock named after him, until Donald Trump buys the place, to build a resort and/or casino, and names it after himself. Trumps Point. Has a nice ring.
We then started walking down to the Ice Caves. Here I thought down is certainly better than up, wrong again. It was a bit treacherous and I had a moment to reflect out loud...really loud...for all to hear...that this wasn't how I planned to go after my 44 years of managing to stay alive....I was thinking...80 years, I'm in bed all comfy cosy and then, and only then, do I slip quietly, comfortably, peacefully into eternal rest. Not falling down the side of some mountain named after some guy named Sam, who couldn't cut it, in a sweaty, disheveled heap at the bottom. Pony tail on the side of my head instead of the back, teeth knocked out from the fall, legs wrapped around my head with my femur jutting out...no, that's not what I had in mind at all.
Is there some hidden moral to this story? I'm sure if your read it 4 or 20 times you'll find one and I'm dying to hear it. Would I do it again? Probably, but I'd load up on calcium (for my bones) and wear a helmet.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Fleas
Fleas suck. Literally...I have no blood left in my ankles and they are covered in horrid scabs that I inadvertently keep scratching off and not realizing that I've just scratched off a scab. I'm oblivious to the blood running down my leg until I'm in the grocery store and just happen to glance down at my foot with the dried blood stains. I'm wearing shorts & flip flops -so yes, people will notice even though I try and convince myself they won't. I'm going to have some really nasty scarring. There goes my shoe modeling career, unless of course I'm modeling riding boots. Then I'm good to go. Yeah me!
I am still trying to figure out where the damn things came from. We have an indoor cat and I'm pretty certain, if he had no fur would look something like my ankles. The vet said they could have been dormant all winter and just started to "wake" up as the weather started to warm up OR we could have carried them in on our shoes. A flea version of a wagon train. Little bastards. Makes me wish I was Native American. They bite and the itch just stays with you. It's the gift that just keeps giving. My mother-in -law said they are suppose to die after two weeks if they no longer have a food source which was really discouraging news to me because it would appear that I am their food source. I'm like the mother load and their inviting friends to dine with them. If I weren't so afraid to die, I'd drink poison just to have a little fun with them.
I know eventually as it gets cooler they will go away, but I'm wondering how much of my ankles I will have left. Matt, my husband said "we" should bomb the house, but "we" all know exactly what that means...me, me me. It's not just a matter of setting off some flea bombs and sitting down to read a book. It involves getting the kids, myself, maybe Matt (depending on my mood), the animals out of the house for at least 4 hours and then coming home and cleaning EVERYTHING!! That is a large chunk of my life right there...killing fleas. I will never get that back, ever.
I am still trying to figure out where the damn things came from. We have an indoor cat and I'm pretty certain, if he had no fur would look something like my ankles. The vet said they could have been dormant all winter and just started to "wake" up as the weather started to warm up OR we could have carried them in on our shoes. A flea version of a wagon train. Little bastards. Makes me wish I was Native American. They bite and the itch just stays with you. It's the gift that just keeps giving. My mother-in -law said they are suppose to die after two weeks if they no longer have a food source which was really discouraging news to me because it would appear that I am their food source. I'm like the mother load and their inviting friends to dine with them. If I weren't so afraid to die, I'd drink poison just to have a little fun with them.
I know eventually as it gets cooler they will go away, but I'm wondering how much of my ankles I will have left. Matt, my husband said "we" should bomb the house, but "we" all know exactly what that means...me, me me. It's not just a matter of setting off some flea bombs and sitting down to read a book. It involves getting the kids, myself, maybe Matt (depending on my mood), the animals out of the house for at least 4 hours and then coming home and cleaning EVERYTHING!! That is a large chunk of my life right there...killing fleas. I will never get that back, ever.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
To Offend or Not to Offend
I've been wrestling with whether or not I wanted to do this and finally just decided to jump in with both feet.
I tend to over think things - not just blogging, but pretty much everything and I'd like to try and stop doing that. By the time I've thought things over it's generally too late or I'm just so tired from all that thinking. Anyway, to the title of this first (hopefully not last) blog, one of the things I was overthinking was whether or not I would offend anyone while writing this blog. I certainly am not out to upset, hurt or anger anybody and will make every effort not to do that, but in the event that I do, I would like to apologize in advance - can I do that? Similar to doing jail time prior to robbing the store - it's just not done that way, or maybe it is and I just don't know about it? There was that movie with Tom Cruise in it where they could forsee if someone was going to commit a crime and arrested them based on that. I digress. I tend to do that a lot, but just stay with me because eventually I come full circle.
Back to my apology (in advance). When necessary names will be changed, sometimes places in order to protect the innocent but if I should offend anyone with anything I write, it's really for the greater good. Consider yourself a martyr for the cause. If it's any comfort, I tend to make fun of myself more. What cause you ask. I don't know exactly, but it will be a good one. Details will follow as I figure things out.
Bottom line here is, there might be times where I cross "the line", and I guess we'll all know what line that is by the comments made by the offendee... Geez I hope that doesn't happen.
I tend to over think things - not just blogging, but pretty much everything and I'd like to try and stop doing that. By the time I've thought things over it's generally too late or I'm just so tired from all that thinking. Anyway, to the title of this first (hopefully not last) blog, one of the things I was overthinking was whether or not I would offend anyone while writing this blog. I certainly am not out to upset, hurt or anger anybody and will make every effort not to do that, but in the event that I do, I would like to apologize in advance - can I do that? Similar to doing jail time prior to robbing the store - it's just not done that way, or maybe it is and I just don't know about it? There was that movie with Tom Cruise in it where they could forsee if someone was going to commit a crime and arrested them based on that. I digress. I tend to do that a lot, but just stay with me because eventually I come full circle.
Back to my apology (in advance). When necessary names will be changed, sometimes places in order to protect the innocent but if I should offend anyone with anything I write, it's really for the greater good. Consider yourself a martyr for the cause. If it's any comfort, I tend to make fun of myself more. What cause you ask. I don't know exactly, but it will be a good one. Details will follow as I figure things out.
Bottom line here is, there might be times where I cross "the line", and I guess we'll all know what line that is by the comments made by the offendee... Geez I hope that doesn't happen.
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