My poor daughter Alicia. She was due to be born on Dec. 4, 2000. However, she could not wait that long, and made her debut on November 24. I was in labor all day Thanksgiving day and she was born in the wee hours the next morning.
Now, almost 10 years later, we realize just how big an inconvenience this really is.
Try planning a birthday party around Thanksgiving. It ain't happening.
This year, instead of an all-out party like last year (a cowgirl theme complete with miniature pony rides), she opted to take a couple of friends to the opening day of "Tangled" instead.
Problem is, nearly everyone is going out of town! Holly is going to Disneyland, Chloe to Idaho...it appears that Elizabeth may be the only one in town.
Some day, we'll come up with a solution. I don't want to be one of those parents who celebrates the birthday at the "half year". Perhaps I should start planning now for next year.
My poor girl.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Rusty Art
I love to draw; I always have loved to draw. I think I'm pretty good at it. I've been told I'm pretty good at it. Somewhere I have a ribbon from the fair telling me I'm pretty good at it.
However, I'm very rusty at it.
One of the pictures I took last week of Frank Hannon has just got me thinking that I NEED to draw it. It won't leave my mind!! So, I'm taking heed and I'm going to attempt to draw it. This afternoon I have graphed it out. It has been probably 12 years since I've used the gridding technique for drawing anything at all, let alone a portrait, but I'm determined to do it. I don't like that I've become so rusty. I don't know why I'm letting my talents and loves fall by the wayside, but I say, "No more!" I'm getting back into the swing of it.
Here's a start of it:
However, I'm very rusty at it.
One of the pictures I took last week of Frank Hannon has just got me thinking that I NEED to draw it. It won't leave my mind!! So, I'm taking heed and I'm going to attempt to draw it. This afternoon I have graphed it out. It has been probably 12 years since I've used the gridding technique for drawing anything at all, let alone a portrait, but I'm determined to do it. I don't like that I've become so rusty. I don't know why I'm letting my talents and loves fall by the wayside, but I say, "No more!" I'm getting back into the swing of it.
Here's a start of it:
Thursday, October 28, 2010
From Behind Prison Walls to Behind the Stage
Many of my friends are aware that I married into a family that has a lot to do with the music business. Mike and I are definitely not part of that business and I sometimes refer to myself as "living on the fringe". This simply means that I live my normal, hum-drum domestic life of homeschooling, cooking, and taking care of house, kids, and Mike but every now and then get to live out some silly adolescent fantasies of hanging out with "rock stars". Every kid I knew had a desire, on some level, to hang out with someone they perceived to be famous, and it's still a desire many people have. My kids now have this same desire, not really realizing that they do that very thing while just spending time with some extended family and friends. It's not something I ever expected to actually do. If I had a bucket list at the age of 19, this would have been on it.
My brother-in-law Troy, whom I love very much even though we've had our differences a few times over the years, is the drummer for a band named Tesla. They first popped onto the mainstream scene in the mid-1980's; I had even heard some of their songs, while sequestered at the top of a mountain in Healdsburg, CA, where radios and TV were forbidden and rock music was definitely frowned upon by my boarding school's strict administration. They were probably at the peak of their popularity in 1989, when an epic song called "Love Song" was getting airplay on the mainstream rock stations. I really did like that song, but I didn't know the name of the band that played it.
And then I met Mike. That story will have to come at another time.
Since then, I've had many opportunities to attend Tesla concerts and meet a few people. It's usually fun, and sometimes pretty boring. Sadly, I don't have much more than passes to show for it all because management companies and venues were extremely strict about not allowing cameras into concerts. With the advent of photo-capable phones, that rule has fallen by the wayside.
I had the opportunity this last Sunday to go to a Tesla concert being held at UCLA. They were opening for Bret Michaels, lead singer of Poison. Usually Tesla headlines, but this was a benefit concert for diabetes awareness and prevention, something Bret is championing as a man with diabetes. I grabbed my friend Jenifer and we headed out on the highway to go see our "boys".
Now, I've taken Jen backstage to a concert before. We watched the show, sang our hearts out, then headed backstage where we just kind of stood around and waited to meet the guys and say "hi" to Troy. We got a few hugs and a couple of pictures with our phones.
All pictures can be seen enlarged by clicking:
Not the best pictures, but they were in a parking lot at night, so what can you expect?
We left mid-morning, planning to be there mid-afternoon, which we were. Troy called me while I was on the freeway passing through Burbank and said to park as close as possible to the backstage and let them know that I was expected. And so the adventure began...
Finding the campus was easy. Finding the venue was not so easy. Finally we spotted some men in yellow jackets labeled "Security" and we knew we were onto something. I pulled into a small driveway and asked for help. These very helpful men called a young man on a golf cart and had him take us to the parking garage. It was very gray and overcast, which was unusual for LA, and Jen was wearing white shorts. She decided it would be prudent to change clothes BEFORE we rode on the 2-seated golf cart (it had a flat bed). Climbing into the back seat to change, she requested I not drive by any trucks. She was safe. On the way to the garage, she said that she hoped she could drive the golf cart as she's never driven one before, an option we both thought wouldn't be available. When we stepped out of the car, he asked, "Which one of you wants to drive?" And that's how Jen got to drive her first golf cart.
He directed us back up the little driveway we had been in before, through a very narrow gate, and right up to the backstage door. We got out, asked around, and discovered that Troy was on stage, setting up his drum kit. I didn't have my backstage pass out because I didn't know if I needed a different one for this show and Jen didn't have one at all; we were strictly going by my ID and last name at this point, I can't believe they let us through so easily; so they let us up on a balcony to watch him. He eventually spotted us from the stage and called me over. That's when he told me to take out my pass and we went to the dressing room and got one for Jen. We now both have All Access for the entire tour. Here's what we saw next door to Tesla's dressing room:
Bret's dressing room.
We went into the room and sat around and waited. The band, according to the schedule, was on lunch. There was a full sandwich bar with chips and candy, etc., set up. One by one, the members straggled through the door and started getting ready for the evening. Brian came in with his two Jack Russel terriers, Bonnie and Clyde, and his wife Monique. Jeff came in alone and Frank came in with his 12 year old son Alex, who greatly resembles his dad. Dave came in later and had his wife and a couple of friends with him.
Jeff was in top form. He was in a story-telling mood, and boy, can that man weave a story! Soon enough, it was time for sound check. Troy grabbed me and Jen and I followed him out to the stage. We opted to sit in the chairs while they worked sound check. Troy did his bit, then Brian, then Frank. Alex played a few bars of "Crazy Train" and "Rock Me Like a Hurricane" on his dad's guitars. Dave checked his, and Jeff just kind of bounced around the stage. At this point, it started raining, something we had been told wouldn't happen.
When sound check was done, we went back to the dressing room, which was really starting to fill up. Jeff continued to come out from the back and tell us stories and Bonnie and Clyde kept looking for love and attention. There was a couple with their 3 and 7 year-olds, Devon and Maya, and they were so sweet and cute! We ended up watching the kids, Alex included, eat far too much sugar and start bouncing off the walls.
Soon, it was time for the Meet and Greet. Jen and I were swept along across some tennis courts and into a tent with tall tables and food. We ended up walking in with Jeff and Dave, who were telling Jen that Bret owes her $30 for a canceled concert in 1989, or at least she could give him a swift kick to a sensitive area. Once inside, a local radio host did a quick interview with the guys and let the audience ask them a few questions. Jeff, already being hyper and having eaten a bunch of junk, was dancing all over the stage and then fell off the back into the tent. What a goof!
My brother-in-law Troy, whom I love very much even though we've had our differences a few times over the years, is the drummer for a band named Tesla. They first popped onto the mainstream scene in the mid-1980's; I had even heard some of their songs, while sequestered at the top of a mountain in Healdsburg, CA, where radios and TV were forbidden and rock music was definitely frowned upon by my boarding school's strict administration. They were probably at the peak of their popularity in 1989, when an epic song called "Love Song" was getting airplay on the mainstream rock stations. I really did like that song, but I didn't know the name of the band that played it.
And then I met Mike. That story will have to come at another time.
Since then, I've had many opportunities to attend Tesla concerts and meet a few people. It's usually fun, and sometimes pretty boring. Sadly, I don't have much more than passes to show for it all because management companies and venues were extremely strict about not allowing cameras into concerts. With the advent of photo-capable phones, that rule has fallen by the wayside.
I had the opportunity this last Sunday to go to a Tesla concert being held at UCLA. They were opening for Bret Michaels, lead singer of Poison. Usually Tesla headlines, but this was a benefit concert for diabetes awareness and prevention, something Bret is championing as a man with diabetes. I grabbed my friend Jenifer and we headed out on the highway to go see our "boys".
Now, I've taken Jen backstage to a concert before. We watched the show, sang our hearts out, then headed backstage where we just kind of stood around and waited to meet the guys and say "hi" to Troy. We got a few hugs and a couple of pictures with our phones.
All pictures can be seen enlarged by clicking:
Not the best pictures, but they were in a parking lot at night, so what can you expect?
We left mid-morning, planning to be there mid-afternoon, which we were. Troy called me while I was on the freeway passing through Burbank and said to park as close as possible to the backstage and let them know that I was expected. And so the adventure began...
Finding the campus was easy. Finding the venue was not so easy. Finally we spotted some men in yellow jackets labeled "Security" and we knew we were onto something. I pulled into a small driveway and asked for help. These very helpful men called a young man on a golf cart and had him take us to the parking garage. It was very gray and overcast, which was unusual for LA, and Jen was wearing white shorts. She decided it would be prudent to change clothes BEFORE we rode on the 2-seated golf cart (it had a flat bed). Climbing into the back seat to change, she requested I not drive by any trucks. She was safe. On the way to the garage, she said that she hoped she could drive the golf cart as she's never driven one before, an option we both thought wouldn't be available. When we stepped out of the car, he asked, "Which one of you wants to drive?" And that's how Jen got to drive her first golf cart.
He directed us back up the little driveway we had been in before, through a very narrow gate, and right up to the backstage door. We got out, asked around, and discovered that Troy was on stage, setting up his drum kit. I didn't have my backstage pass out because I didn't know if I needed a different one for this show and Jen didn't have one at all; we were strictly going by my ID and last name at this point, I can't believe they let us through so easily; so they let us up on a balcony to watch him. He eventually spotted us from the stage and called me over. That's when he told me to take out my pass and we went to the dressing room and got one for Jen. We now both have All Access for the entire tour. Here's what we saw next door to Tesla's dressing room:
Bret's dressing room.
We went into the room and sat around and waited. The band, according to the schedule, was on lunch. There was a full sandwich bar with chips and candy, etc., set up. One by one, the members straggled through the door and started getting ready for the evening. Brian came in with his two Jack Russel terriers, Bonnie and Clyde, and his wife Monique. Jeff came in alone and Frank came in with his 12 year old son Alex, who greatly resembles his dad. Dave came in later and had his wife and a couple of friends with him.
Jeff was in top form. He was in a story-telling mood, and boy, can that man weave a story! Soon enough, it was time for sound check. Troy grabbed me and Jen and I followed him out to the stage. We opted to sit in the chairs while they worked sound check. Troy did his bit, then Brian, then Frank. Alex played a few bars of "Crazy Train" and "Rock Me Like a Hurricane" on his dad's guitars. Dave checked his, and Jeff just kind of bounced around the stage. At this point, it started raining, something we had been told wouldn't happen.
When sound check was done, we went back to the dressing room, which was really starting to fill up. Jeff continued to come out from the back and tell us stories and Bonnie and Clyde kept looking for love and attention. There was a couple with their 3 and 7 year-olds, Devon and Maya, and they were so sweet and cute! We ended up watching the kids, Alex included, eat far too much sugar and start bouncing off the walls.
Soon, it was time for the Meet and Greet. Jen and I were swept along across some tennis courts and into a tent with tall tables and food. We ended up walking in with Jeff and Dave, who were telling Jen that Bret owes her $30 for a canceled concert in 1989, or at least she could give him a swift kick to a sensitive area. Once inside, a local radio host did a quick interview with the guys and let the audience ask them a few questions. Jeff, already being hyper and having eaten a bunch of junk, was dancing all over the stage and then fell off the back into the tent. What a goof!
Once the M&G was done, it was time to go to the dressing room - again. This time the guys really were concerned about getting ready for the show, taking showers, changing clothes, etc. Monique came in and said that the Bret M&G was a madhouse and she left it because you couldn't even move. Alex confessed to me that he had already had 2 Mountain Dews and about a dozen mini Snickers. Maya and Devon played Phineas and Ferb songs on their mom Jackie's iPod. Jeff entertained us some more and then - out of the blue - shows up with a big cup of coffee.
Now, I had been looking for coffee and could not find it. I was resigned to the fact that there just wasn't any. Naturally, I jumped all over this. "Jeff! Where did you get coffee?!" "It's upstairs." "What?!" "Grab your cup, put in some creamer, put the lid on, and follow me." Jen and I did as told and followed Jeff upstairs.
Upstairs was more food, catered, and coffee. A couple of members from Bret's band were finishing dinner and Jeff stopped to talk to them. I started to pour my coffee when Jeff yelled, "You're doing it wrong!" and proceeded to tell me how it just HAD to be done so that I could get the full effect. As we laughed and joked about how to make and not make a cup of coffee, I was missing my chance downstairs, in the room I had been in most of the day...
When we walked back into the dressing room, Jackie said, "You just missed Bret. He just came through." That would have been my only chance at getting a picture with him that night. Darn that Jeff.
Before we knew it, it was show time. Now, watching a show from backstage is nothing like watching a show from the audience. First we went up into the wings on the stage, but Jen and I are such big fans that that wasn't good enough for us. We wanted to be in front, right in front of the speakers.
The rain was really starting to come down so we headed backstage to listen. Tesla finished their set and Troy once again grabbed us and dragged us to the dressing room while Bret's band set up. We heard them start, but still stayed put until Troy announced that he really wanted to go listen. Backstage we went again. I tried to get as many pictures as I could for my friend Aurora, who is crazy about Bret.
Again, Jen and I wanted to be up front. Unfortunately, security wasn't honoring our All Access passes and wouldn't let me stand in the front where I didn't have an assigned seat (what?!), but I managed to get one shot from the front.
Bored with standing in the middle, Jen and I wandered around the backstage and back to the dressing room for awhile. Troy found us and asked us to go out with him again, so we headed to the sound booth with him and his friend Ryan to finish watching the show.
The show over, we once again headed to the dressing rooms. Outside, we ran into some of Bret's band, but no Bret. Troy and Bret's drummer met and traded numbers. I have to admit, the guy was awesome.
While standing there, I saw Dave just sort of hanging around. I said that I'd never had a picture with him, so Troy took one of us. Unfortunately, Troy isn't the best photographer. We got one of Jen with him, too. All we have left to get is Brian, and I have no idea why I didn't ask this time.
I really tried to postpone my leaving so that we could get a picture with Bret, but Troy and Ryan insisted on walking us to our car. And that is what the VIP treatment is like, backstage at a Tesla show.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
My Prison Term
For the record, I did host a party and got another over-priced, pretty, sparkly shirt.
Now, for the post explaining the title "My Prison Term".
My mom works at one of the CA women's prisons. http://www.cdcr.ca.gov/Facilities_Locator/CCWF.html It so happens, hers is the one with the female death row. They had a family night celebration, celebrating 20 years. Now, the kids and I have gone for a prison tour before, but we were only allowed outside the gates, which was fine; we still had a great time.
This time, however, we were allowed INSIDE the prison. Too cool!!!
We started with a little ceremony in front of the administrative offices. There was prayer, a little talk from the warden, the Pledge of Allegiance, and the National Anthem. Then we headed over for the tour of the prison. We were checked in and went into the first set of gates. Once those closed, we walked into the second set. When those closed, we were then allowed to go onto the grounds.
We walked past my mom's office, which is just inside the walls. There is a huge population of wild rabbits on the grounds and the kids were on bunny-alert. Then we walked into the visiting area. After that, we walked through the processing area for the inmates who receive visitors and out into the yard.
Next, we walked into our first pod, an inmate housing unit. We went to the guard's station and heard a few facts about how they run the unit. The guards are unarmed, unless you count pepper spray and a baton. The cells are off of hallways, spread out like spokes from the station.
We got to enter two empty cells. They had bunks, one held 6 and one held 8. Each bottom bunk has two metal drawers attached underneath to hold inmates' belongings. They each also had a locker. The shower and toilet were in-room, with doors, but still not much privacy. The doors basically covered vital areas, but head and feet would still be very visible.
Along the hall there were probably about 12 cells, 6 on each side. We were encouraged to walk down and wave to the prisoners, which was odd. I'm sure they felt like goldfish, but so did I. They were pressed against the windows, knocking to get the children's attention. They smiled and waved and I encouraged my kids to wave back. I explained to them that many of these women are mommies themselves and they miss their children very much, but made poor choices in life and that's why they're there. They showed Reece how they make their own dominoes (pieces of cardboard with the dots drawn on). I am sure I saw more than a few tears.
After leaving that unit, we walked along and the Sgt. pointed out the medical and library buildings. Then, we headed into - what was for me - the highlight of the tour...death row!
Going into the maximum security was strange. On our walk, inmates in other units were knocking on the windows and waving. Things were eerily still in death row. It's two-tiered, with metal stairs leading to metal walkways. It's laid out in a circular pattern, no halls in this unit. Directly over the entrance is a room with armed guards and a posted sign that reads, "Warning - there will be no warning shots fired". The room has round metal tables, each with four metal chairs attached. The ceilings are open-beamed, sprayed heavily with insulation.
These cells are small. As a claustrophobic, I wouldn't last 10 minutes in one. There are 2 bunks. I believe the cells are only 6 feet wide. There is absolutely no privacy here. The stainless steel toilet and small sink are right inside the door, visible through the small window. That is about all there is to it.
The showers are side by side outside of the cells. Inmates are escorted to the shower. It is basically a closet with bars, and it is facing the openness of the unit. There are inserts behind the bars that would barely suffice for modesty, probably covering from mid-thigh to upper chest.
There was no knocking and waving on death row. I noticed only a couple of women peering through the narrow windows on the doors there.
We left death row and walked past the counseling services and another library, with a poster advertising a Steve Martin book. We went through another guarded area and headed through the gates to the outside.
Our next stop was the parking lot. There were booths in the lot and on the grass. We walked up just as the Crisis Response Team (CRT) demonstration began. The CRT is like the prison SWAT team. My friend Andy is a member of the team and after the demonstration, the public was invited to visit with them and ask questions. I walked up to Andy and the first thing he said to me was, "What are you doing out of area?" About 6 camouflaged, helmeted heads swung around to look at me. "Haha, Andy, you're so funny!" "Seriously, did you make parole?" The other members of the team relaxed and he indicated he was joking. The LAST thing I wanted was to be taken down by that team. After chatting with Andy a bit, we decided to go on the hay ride.
The hay ride took us around the perimeter of the prison. We peeked inside the almond processing plant and then proceeded to the fire station. There, the kids shot off the fire hose, sounded the alarm on the truck and watched a jaws of life demonstration.
Finally, we grabbed something to drink and the kids ate some cotton candy and then we were done. Altogether, I'd have to say, prison rocked!
Now, for the post explaining the title "My Prison Term".
My mom works at one of the CA women's prisons. http://www.cdcr.ca.gov/Facilities_Locator/CCWF.html It so happens, hers is the one with the female death row. They had a family night celebration, celebrating 20 years. Now, the kids and I have gone for a prison tour before, but we were only allowed outside the gates, which was fine; we still had a great time.
This time, however, we were allowed INSIDE the prison. Too cool!!!
We started with a little ceremony in front of the administrative offices. There was prayer, a little talk from the warden, the Pledge of Allegiance, and the National Anthem. Then we headed over for the tour of the prison. We were checked in and went into the first set of gates. Once those closed, we walked into the second set. When those closed, we were then allowed to go onto the grounds.
We walked past my mom's office, which is just inside the walls. There is a huge population of wild rabbits on the grounds and the kids were on bunny-alert. Then we walked into the visiting area. After that, we walked through the processing area for the inmates who receive visitors and out into the yard.
Next, we walked into our first pod, an inmate housing unit. We went to the guard's station and heard a few facts about how they run the unit. The guards are unarmed, unless you count pepper spray and a baton. The cells are off of hallways, spread out like spokes from the station.
We got to enter two empty cells. They had bunks, one held 6 and one held 8. Each bottom bunk has two metal drawers attached underneath to hold inmates' belongings. They each also had a locker. The shower and toilet were in-room, with doors, but still not much privacy. The doors basically covered vital areas, but head and feet would still be very visible.
Along the hall there were probably about 12 cells, 6 on each side. We were encouraged to walk down and wave to the prisoners, which was odd. I'm sure they felt like goldfish, but so did I. They were pressed against the windows, knocking to get the children's attention. They smiled and waved and I encouraged my kids to wave back. I explained to them that many of these women are mommies themselves and they miss their children very much, but made poor choices in life and that's why they're there. They showed Reece how they make their own dominoes (pieces of cardboard with the dots drawn on). I am sure I saw more than a few tears.
After leaving that unit, we walked along and the Sgt. pointed out the medical and library buildings. Then, we headed into - what was for me - the highlight of the tour...death row!
Going into the maximum security was strange. On our walk, inmates in other units were knocking on the windows and waving. Things were eerily still in death row. It's two-tiered, with metal stairs leading to metal walkways. It's laid out in a circular pattern, no halls in this unit. Directly over the entrance is a room with armed guards and a posted sign that reads, "Warning - there will be no warning shots fired". The room has round metal tables, each with four metal chairs attached. The ceilings are open-beamed, sprayed heavily with insulation.
These cells are small. As a claustrophobic, I wouldn't last 10 minutes in one. There are 2 bunks. I believe the cells are only 6 feet wide. There is absolutely no privacy here. The stainless steel toilet and small sink are right inside the door, visible through the small window. That is about all there is to it.
The showers are side by side outside of the cells. Inmates are escorted to the shower. It is basically a closet with bars, and it is facing the openness of the unit. There are inserts behind the bars that would barely suffice for modesty, probably covering from mid-thigh to upper chest.
There was no knocking and waving on death row. I noticed only a couple of women peering through the narrow windows on the doors there.
We left death row and walked past the counseling services and another library, with a poster advertising a Steve Martin book. We went through another guarded area and headed through the gates to the outside.
Our next stop was the parking lot. There were booths in the lot and on the grass. We walked up just as the Crisis Response Team (CRT) demonstration began. The CRT is like the prison SWAT team. My friend Andy is a member of the team and after the demonstration, the public was invited to visit with them and ask questions. I walked up to Andy and the first thing he said to me was, "What are you doing out of area?" About 6 camouflaged, helmeted heads swung around to look at me. "Haha, Andy, you're so funny!" "Seriously, did you make parole?" The other members of the team relaxed and he indicated he was joking. The LAST thing I wanted was to be taken down by that team. After chatting with Andy a bit, we decided to go on the hay ride.
The hay ride took us around the perimeter of the prison. We peeked inside the almond processing plant and then proceeded to the fire station. There, the kids shot off the fire hose, sounded the alarm on the truck and watched a jaws of life demonstration.
Finally, we grabbed something to drink and the kids ate some cotton candy and then we were done. Altogether, I'd have to say, prison rocked!
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Listen to Me!
There are days that I feel all I do is yell at the kids. Most often it begins with, "Listen to me!" Yet, they continue to NOT listen to me. Sigh. What is wrong with them?
Today I thought Reece had a birthday party to go to in Modesto. Turns out, it's next week, but that's okay. My friend Tish was having a party that's sort of like Tupperware, but with clothing, purses, and accessories. Cute, sparkly stuff. I had to take both kids.
When we got out of the car, I distinctly said to them, "Do not yell, run, push, scream, or make any sort of scene while we are in there. Do you understand?" "Oh, yes Mommy, we understand!"
They did okay - at first. Then...I don't know if I took too long trying on T-shirts (and trying desperately to find one that didn't hug my chest too much but also didn't billow around my waist), but I think they got bored. Add to that the fact that Alicia found eclairs (her favorites) and, well, sugar-induced mania followed. I felt so bad that I did buy an overpriced, albeit gorgeous T-shirt.
Maybe I should call Tish and see if I can book a party off of her. You know, to make up for my monsters. Meanwhile, here's my new T-shirt.
Today I thought Reece had a birthday party to go to in Modesto. Turns out, it's next week, but that's okay. My friend Tish was having a party that's sort of like Tupperware, but with clothing, purses, and accessories. Cute, sparkly stuff. I had to take both kids.
When we got out of the car, I distinctly said to them, "Do not yell, run, push, scream, or make any sort of scene while we are in there. Do you understand?" "Oh, yes Mommy, we understand!"
They did okay - at first. Then...I don't know if I took too long trying on T-shirts (and trying desperately to find one that didn't hug my chest too much but also didn't billow around my waist), but I think they got bored. Add to that the fact that Alicia found eclairs (her favorites) and, well, sugar-induced mania followed. I felt so bad that I did buy an overpriced, albeit gorgeous T-shirt.
Maybe I should call Tish and see if I can book a party off of her. You know, to make up for my monsters. Meanwhile, here's my new T-shirt.
A little more
This week felt very...unproductive. I feel as if I am pulling teeth from a crocodile trying to get these kids to do their schoolwork. Once they get it done, it's not so bad. It's just getting them to do it.
Alicia is doing really well in her tutoring. They breezed through 5 lessons Tuesday!! The tutor is pretty sure we can get her caught back up to grade level this year. I pray that not only can we get her caught up; we can keep her there.
She also did her second week of ballet classes. Alicia is, of course, the tallest girl in the class. That means that she gets to lead her group in the dance. She's really excited about that fact. There are too many girls for them to perform the Nutcracker so they are doing the waltz. It's going to be so beautiful, if they can actually get it down. I mean, 16 girls for one hour a week for 6 weeks...it's a lot to expect.
I am impressed with how graceful she actually is. Her teacher said she is happy with her performance, which makes me happy. I can see some of her balance issues affecting her, but she is compensating.
Alicia is doing really well in her tutoring. They breezed through 5 lessons Tuesday!! The tutor is pretty sure we can get her caught back up to grade level this year. I pray that not only can we get her caught up; we can keep her there.
She also did her second week of ballet classes. Alicia is, of course, the tallest girl in the class. That means that she gets to lead her group in the dance. She's really excited about that fact. There are too many girls for them to perform the Nutcracker so they are doing the waltz. It's going to be so beautiful, if they can actually get it down. I mean, 16 girls for one hour a week for 6 weeks...it's a lot to expect.
I am impressed with how graceful she actually is. Her teacher said she is happy with her performance, which makes me happy. I can see some of her balance issues affecting her, but she is compensating.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Neglectful
I'm a neglectful blogger. If my blog were a child, it would have run away two years ago or withered up and died from malnourishment. Thankfully, it isn't a child and is still waiting here patiently for me to write something - anything - and pay it some attention.
Here's the issue: I don't know what to write. Do I really believe that anyone is interested in reading about the mundancity (I don't believe that is a real word, but I'm coining it and making it mine) of my life? Just how much of my kids' quirkiness can they read without deciding that I am certifiably nuts?
At any rate, I have stumbled across this once again and feel compelled to make an entry. Here goes...
I am in my third year of homeschooling. I never thought that I would be one of "those" people, those people who keep their children home and teach them at home instead of at school. Really, though, I love it. I am so frustrated every day that my Type B personality children can hardly sit still long enough to do a work page without asking if they can have a break while my Type A personality is dying a little bit inside because I just want it done. I still love it.
Regardless, it is immensely rewarding to see them realize a concept and truly understand it. The first time Reece read a book, I wanted to cry. I mean, I DID THAT. I taught my child to read. He is also learning to write, struggling with his lack of mastery over some fine-motor skills required to write, but doing it nonetheless.
I have a little bit of help this year with Alicia. Her math scores have been low enough that she qualifies for one-on-one tutoring this year. Normally, I would be appalled that one of my kids was "deficient", but I am actually relieved. One thing that I have learned with this child is that it is an amazing feeling to have your suspicions confirmed by the professionals and to have their support in working toward a resolution. My girl has some issues. They are mostly linked to her ADD. I knew, I KNEW while we were getting the diagnosis that we were in for an adventure. An adventure it definitely has been.
Last year we discovered that she has what I call polar problems. Basically, her North pole and her South pole do not communicate well with each other. Not to mention her hemispheric issues - left and right (East and West?) don't really click, either. Imagine trying to do things such as tie your shoe or get the pencil to write what you're thinking when synapses aren't snapping. It isn't easy! We now have exercises for her to do, to sort of "wake up" her poles and get them working together. Throw into the mix a wicked case of can't-sit-still and oh-look-at-the-shiny-whatever and imagine how hard it is to get the work done. There are days that I feel accomplished if we get two work pages done. Yes, a mere two pages.
We've had some other changes in life as well as just the schooling. Mike has been through a few (several?) jobs the last couple of years. Nursing just isn't what it used to be. Working for the state, his former dream job, turned out to be a dream all right - of nightmare proportions. As if driving an hour each way into the foothills wasn't enough, the state mandated three furlough days. As in, you aren't getting paid for three days of work. That hurts! In addition, he often still had to work the days as he could not get anyone to take his shifts because they were short-handed. Working for free isn't fun. It doesn't get the bills paid. We're in the middle of a recession, oh, heck, let's call it what it truly is - a depression - and wages have gone down. Unfortunately, bills and goods haven't decreased accordingly so we are paying more with less wages. One doesn't have to be a math major to realize that that won't work for very long.
As a result, Mike is looking for a second job. In past times, this would have been very easy, but apparently a lot of nurses are doing the same and jobs are scarce. We've looked at me returning to work, but anything I make would go straight to childcare so that it isn't very smart. Perhaps I should have finished my degree after all...
We're still here and we're still happy, despite it all, and I guess that's really just about all that can be said. This wasn't the most uplifting post, but it gets us up to speed. Maybe I'll actually update this now and then.
Here's the issue: I don't know what to write. Do I really believe that anyone is interested in reading about the mundancity (I don't believe that is a real word, but I'm coining it and making it mine) of my life? Just how much of my kids' quirkiness can they read without deciding that I am certifiably nuts?
At any rate, I have stumbled across this once again and feel compelled to make an entry. Here goes...
I am in my third year of homeschooling. I never thought that I would be one of "those" people, those people who keep their children home and teach them at home instead of at school. Really, though, I love it. I am so frustrated every day that my Type B personality children can hardly sit still long enough to do a work page without asking if they can have a break while my Type A personality is dying a little bit inside because I just want it done. I still love it.
Regardless, it is immensely rewarding to see them realize a concept and truly understand it. The first time Reece read a book, I wanted to cry. I mean, I DID THAT. I taught my child to read. He is also learning to write, struggling with his lack of mastery over some fine-motor skills required to write, but doing it nonetheless.
I have a little bit of help this year with Alicia. Her math scores have been low enough that she qualifies for one-on-one tutoring this year. Normally, I would be appalled that one of my kids was "deficient", but I am actually relieved. One thing that I have learned with this child is that it is an amazing feeling to have your suspicions confirmed by the professionals and to have their support in working toward a resolution. My girl has some issues. They are mostly linked to her ADD. I knew, I KNEW while we were getting the diagnosis that we were in for an adventure. An adventure it definitely has been.
Last year we discovered that she has what I call polar problems. Basically, her North pole and her South pole do not communicate well with each other. Not to mention her hemispheric issues - left and right (East and West?) don't really click, either. Imagine trying to do things such as tie your shoe or get the pencil to write what you're thinking when synapses aren't snapping. It isn't easy! We now have exercises for her to do, to sort of "wake up" her poles and get them working together. Throw into the mix a wicked case of can't-sit-still and oh-look-at-the-shiny-whatever and imagine how hard it is to get the work done. There are days that I feel accomplished if we get two work pages done. Yes, a mere two pages.
We've had some other changes in life as well as just the schooling. Mike has been through a few (several?) jobs the last couple of years. Nursing just isn't what it used to be. Working for the state, his former dream job, turned out to be a dream all right - of nightmare proportions. As if driving an hour each way into the foothills wasn't enough, the state mandated three furlough days. As in, you aren't getting paid for three days of work. That hurts! In addition, he often still had to work the days as he could not get anyone to take his shifts because they were short-handed. Working for free isn't fun. It doesn't get the bills paid. We're in the middle of a recession, oh, heck, let's call it what it truly is - a depression - and wages have gone down. Unfortunately, bills and goods haven't decreased accordingly so we are paying more with less wages. One doesn't have to be a math major to realize that that won't work for very long.
As a result, Mike is looking for a second job. In past times, this would have been very easy, but apparently a lot of nurses are doing the same and jobs are scarce. We've looked at me returning to work, but anything I make would go straight to childcare so that it isn't very smart. Perhaps I should have finished my degree after all...
We're still here and we're still happy, despite it all, and I guess that's really just about all that can be said. This wasn't the most uplifting post, but it gets us up to speed. Maybe I'll actually update this now and then.
Friday, May 11, 2007
7 Weird Things About Me...
I was tagged by my friend Mandy. I'm listing 7 weird things about me and tagging 7 people. I may have to tag people on MySpace, because not many of my friends blog, other than those Mandy has already tagged.
Without further ado, 7 weird things about me:
1. I like even numbers. If I am eating a sandwich, I have to take an even number of bites across the sandwich. If I'm eating a food such as M&M's, I have to have an even number of each color. An even amount of fries, an even amount of pretzel bites per pretzel (four) and an even amount of lima beans are all a part of this evil sickness.
2. I hate clutter but cannot seem to get on top of it all. If you were to see my house, you would think that I was very unorganized and unfazed by clutter, but you would be wrong. I just live with three messy people and am on the verge of giving up the pipe dream which is a neat and tidy house.
3. I love to drive really fast, but am scared to death of getting speeding tickets. If I had no kids in the car and said car was a sports car...I'd be in trouble.
4. I alphabetize my DVD's.
5. My clothing in my closet is hung in a particular order. From right to left, it is skirts, then pants, then tops, then dresses. Now, within these parameters are even stricter rules. The shirts are organized by sleeve length, shortest to longest. And within this rule is the color rule: lightest to darkest. I don't take out hangers when I take out an item so when I put away laundry there is always a hanger just where I need it.
6. I really do hate to end a sentence in a dangling preposition. I abhor double negatives. My kids will grow up to use proper English. They are already well on their way to this goal. It is not as if they have much of a choice.
7. I can draw, really well. I haven't really drawn since, well, Alicia was born. Perhaps I should pick it up again. (Notice that I added "again" so the "up" was not dangling.)
Without further ado, 7 weird things about me:
1. I like even numbers. If I am eating a sandwich, I have to take an even number of bites across the sandwich. If I'm eating a food such as M&M's, I have to have an even number of each color. An even amount of fries, an even amount of pretzel bites per pretzel (four) and an even amount of lima beans are all a part of this evil sickness.
2. I hate clutter but cannot seem to get on top of it all. If you were to see my house, you would think that I was very unorganized and unfazed by clutter, but you would be wrong. I just live with three messy people and am on the verge of giving up the pipe dream which is a neat and tidy house.
3. I love to drive really fast, but am scared to death of getting speeding tickets. If I had no kids in the car and said car was a sports car...I'd be in trouble.
4. I alphabetize my DVD's.
5. My clothing in my closet is hung in a particular order. From right to left, it is skirts, then pants, then tops, then dresses. Now, within these parameters are even stricter rules. The shirts are organized by sleeve length, shortest to longest. And within this rule is the color rule: lightest to darkest. I don't take out hangers when I take out an item so when I put away laundry there is always a hanger just where I need it.
6. I really do hate to end a sentence in a dangling preposition. I abhor double negatives. My kids will grow up to use proper English. They are already well on their way to this goal. It is not as if they have much of a choice.
7. I can draw, really well. I haven't really drawn since, well, Alicia was born. Perhaps I should pick it up again. (Notice that I added "again" so the "up" was not dangling.)
Friday, March 30, 2007
A little of this, little of that
We've had a busy week or so. Last Thursday we went on a trip to Reno to visit Mike's Aunt Lorraine and cousin Gary. We stayed the night at Circus Circus and took the kids to the midway for some fun in the morning. After a big buffet breakfast we headed down for the festivities. The kids had a blast playing all of the carnival-style games and winning prizes. After an hour or so we were ready to leave. Alicia and Reece had played nearly every game there and my leg was really starting to throb from all of the activity and not being elevated.
We headed over to Lorraine's new apartment where Gary met us. We all sat and talked for awhile, catching up on our lives and then decided to go out for lunch. We were going to go to one of the casinos, but they didn't allow children in - even in the restaurant! That is the first time I've seen that, but they were strict and I didn't want to break any laws so we left and headed to Red Robin. After a big filling lunch we said our goodbyes and Mike, the kids and I were on our way home.
On the way we stopped at Boomtown so the kids could ride the rides in their children's area. Boomtown is a great spot for kids - if you want to spend the money. They had a blast and rode the ferris wheel with seats shaped like covered wagons, the old-fashioned carousel and a ride that took them up and dropped them quickly. They convinced Mike to take them on the 9-hole miniature golf course in the building, something he regretted nearly immediately. While they golfed I sat with my poor leg elevated and waited for them to finish. Once they were done we spent our credits (no money there, just credits on a card) on a couple of prizes and something to drink for everyone and once again we headed out, arriving home late Friday night.
The rest of the week was pretty uneventful until yesterday, Thursday. We got a surprise phone call in the afternoon from Mike's brother Troy. He was driving from Fresno to Sacramento and wanted to stop in and say hi for a few minutes. Of course we said yes - and then we panicked. The house is a disaster since I had my fall! Poor Mike tries, but he can't keep up with the cleaning. I had fortunately just called my brother and asked him to send my niece Anayla and nephew Khori over to help a bit so they did do a bunch and make it a bit more presentable when Troy and his friend Shane showed up.
It was very nice to see Troy. We hadn't seen him but once since their dad died in 2003. He seems to be doing well and was in good spirits. Khori was over the moon in ecstatic happiness because he finally got a chance to meet Troy. Khori plays guitar and has discovered Troy's band Tesla. Khori has been working hard at learning the songs that they play and was a little upset that I didn't tell him Troy would be here because he didn't bring anything to have signed. That was fine because Troy set him up with some autographed drum sticks and took some pictures with Khori. I am sure that as soon as Khori is not grounded, one of those pictures is going to be set as his default on MySpace.
Today, Troy's son, affectionately called Little Troy and a drummer in his own band, came by to see us. He and his dad are currently estranged and did not know that each of the other was going to be here in town. I first met him when he was an 8 year old boy and now he is a heavily-tattooed man with a long braided goatee. He's still a little sweetie, though, and I can see glimpses of that little boy still in there.
A few minutes after Little Troy arrived with our good friend Adrian, another of Mike's brothers showed up. Denny lives in L.A. but is up this way on business. He is also in the music business, but he is in management. We haven't seen Denny in about a year so this was a nice visit as well. He brought with him the birthday and Christmas presents he's been holding for the last year for the kids. The house is now messier than ever but the kids are very happy. Alicia got a chest with dress-up clothing and a Cinderella princess carriage and Cinderella doll. It really is a beautiful gift for a little girl. Reece got a roaring dinosaur that knocks over a stack of plastic pieces that form some sort of hut or something. I'm not sure what it is, but he's crazy about it. He also got - and this is the big-ticket item - a Superman bicycle! Uncle Denny is coming back on Sunday morning to put it together for him. Boy, does he ever spoil our kids.
This evening, I got a phone call from my sister's best friend, Amie. I was a little surprised because I don't think that Amie has ever called me before. She told me that Karnette was involved in a motorcycle accident. Amie assured me that Karnette was okay and that Amie had Karnette's girls with her. Apparently Karnette had been out riding with her friend Cynthia and took a corner too quickly. It was sharper than she expected and she hit the shoulder and went sliding. She thought she dislocated her collarbone and was taken in the ambulance to the hospital to be checked.
I just got off the phone with Karnette and she didn't actually dislocate anything. Instead, they think that she has pulled the ligaments. She is in a splint and doped up pretty well, but still in a lot of pain. And yes, she is planning on riding a motorcycle again.
We headed over to Lorraine's new apartment where Gary met us. We all sat and talked for awhile, catching up on our lives and then decided to go out for lunch. We were going to go to one of the casinos, but they didn't allow children in - even in the restaurant! That is the first time I've seen that, but they were strict and I didn't want to break any laws so we left and headed to Red Robin. After a big filling lunch we said our goodbyes and Mike, the kids and I were on our way home.
On the way we stopped at Boomtown so the kids could ride the rides in their children's area. Boomtown is a great spot for kids - if you want to spend the money. They had a blast and rode the ferris wheel with seats shaped like covered wagons, the old-fashioned carousel and a ride that took them up and dropped them quickly. They convinced Mike to take them on the 9-hole miniature golf course in the building, something he regretted nearly immediately. While they golfed I sat with my poor leg elevated and waited for them to finish. Once they were done we spent our credits (no money there, just credits on a card) on a couple of prizes and something to drink for everyone and once again we headed out, arriving home late Friday night.
The rest of the week was pretty uneventful until yesterday, Thursday. We got a surprise phone call in the afternoon from Mike's brother Troy. He was driving from Fresno to Sacramento and wanted to stop in and say hi for a few minutes. Of course we said yes - and then we panicked. The house is a disaster since I had my fall! Poor Mike tries, but he can't keep up with the cleaning. I had fortunately just called my brother and asked him to send my niece Anayla and nephew Khori over to help a bit so they did do a bunch and make it a bit more presentable when Troy and his friend Shane showed up.
It was very nice to see Troy. We hadn't seen him but once since their dad died in 2003. He seems to be doing well and was in good spirits. Khori was over the moon in ecstatic happiness because he finally got a chance to meet Troy. Khori plays guitar and has discovered Troy's band Tesla. Khori has been working hard at learning the songs that they play and was a little upset that I didn't tell him Troy would be here because he didn't bring anything to have signed. That was fine because Troy set him up with some autographed drum sticks and took some pictures with Khori. I am sure that as soon as Khori is not grounded, one of those pictures is going to be set as his default on MySpace.
Today, Troy's son, affectionately called Little Troy and a drummer in his own band, came by to see us. He and his dad are currently estranged and did not know that each of the other was going to be here in town. I first met him when he was an 8 year old boy and now he is a heavily-tattooed man with a long braided goatee. He's still a little sweetie, though, and I can see glimpses of that little boy still in there.
A few minutes after Little Troy arrived with our good friend Adrian, another of Mike's brothers showed up. Denny lives in L.A. but is up this way on business. He is also in the music business, but he is in management. We haven't seen Denny in about a year so this was a nice visit as well. He brought with him the birthday and Christmas presents he's been holding for the last year for the kids. The house is now messier than ever but the kids are very happy. Alicia got a chest with dress-up clothing and a Cinderella princess carriage and Cinderella doll. It really is a beautiful gift for a little girl. Reece got a roaring dinosaur that knocks over a stack of plastic pieces that form some sort of hut or something. I'm not sure what it is, but he's crazy about it. He also got - and this is the big-ticket item - a Superman bicycle! Uncle Denny is coming back on Sunday morning to put it together for him. Boy, does he ever spoil our kids.
This evening, I got a phone call from my sister's best friend, Amie. I was a little surprised because I don't think that Amie has ever called me before. She told me that Karnette was involved in a motorcycle accident. Amie assured me that Karnette was okay and that Amie had Karnette's girls with her. Apparently Karnette had been out riding with her friend Cynthia and took a corner too quickly. It was sharper than she expected and she hit the shoulder and went sliding. She thought she dislocated her collarbone and was taken in the ambulance to the hospital to be checked.
I just got off the phone with Karnette and she didn't actually dislocate anything. Instead, they think that she has pulled the ligaments. She is in a splint and doped up pretty well, but still in a lot of pain. And yes, she is planning on riding a motorcycle again.
As I lie gimping...
My healing has actually come a long way. I've had 3 casts since my last posting. One was put on and then removed the same afternoon. The tech who put it on did a really shoddy job. It was poking and curling in next to my foot. Altogether it was the most uncomfortable cast I'd had. I thought that maybe I could last it out until Monday (it was put on Friday afternoon), but when I went to bed that night all sorts of stuff happened. There was miserable pain in leg. My toes went numb and when I touched them they would tingle like pins and needles, as if my foot had fallen asleep and was waking up. That's not how a casted foot should feel.
I had Mike take me to the emergency room. We left the house around 11 pm, dropped the kids off at my sister Karnette's house and got to the emergency room just before midnight. Did I happen to mention that once the clock hit midnight it was my 37th birthday? Yes, happy birthday to me.
The triage nurse put me at a higher priority because my toes were numb. Then we had to go sit back out in chairs and wait...and wait...and wait. Finally, at about 3 am, I was taken back to be seen. The doctor finally wandered in to see me and was distracted, to say the least. Turns out I had to wait so long because some patients from Merced had been airlifted to the hospital with gun shot wounds. One of them had so many holes in his heart that they couldn't close all of them up and he didn't make it.
On to my insignificant problems...they decided to remove the cast since it was obviously pressing on something somewhere and causing issues. The ortho tech came in and removed it and replaced it with a lovely splint. I swear, those things feel as if they weigh 20 pounds!! Monday I went back to the doctor's office and got a new cast.
I am on another cast since that time. My healing is still going along as if I'd had the surgery. This latest cast is a walking cast, which is a major misnomer. I am still on crutches. I can only put 50% of my weight on the cast. I have had it for 2 weeks now and will have it for another 2 weeks, although I may get another one next week if my swelling continues to go down the way that it is. The reason I would need a new one in between is because as the swelling goes down the cast will rub against the foot and make a blister. Hopefully the next one will be a true walking cast and I'm still healing the same.
I had Mike take me to the emergency room. We left the house around 11 pm, dropped the kids off at my sister Karnette's house and got to the emergency room just before midnight. Did I happen to mention that once the clock hit midnight it was my 37th birthday? Yes, happy birthday to me.
The triage nurse put me at a higher priority because my toes were numb. Then we had to go sit back out in chairs and wait...and wait...and wait. Finally, at about 3 am, I was taken back to be seen. The doctor finally wandered in to see me and was distracted, to say the least. Turns out I had to wait so long because some patients from Merced had been airlifted to the hospital with gun shot wounds. One of them had so many holes in his heart that they couldn't close all of them up and he didn't make it.
On to my insignificant problems...they decided to remove the cast since it was obviously pressing on something somewhere and causing issues. The ortho tech came in and removed it and replaced it with a lovely splint. I swear, those things feel as if they weigh 20 pounds!! Monday I went back to the doctor's office and got a new cast.
I am on another cast since that time. My healing is still going along as if I'd had the surgery. This latest cast is a walking cast, which is a major misnomer. I am still on crutches. I can only put 50% of my weight on the cast. I have had it for 2 weeks now and will have it for another 2 weeks, although I may get another one next week if my swelling continues to go down the way that it is. The reason I would need a new one in between is because as the swelling goes down the cast will rub against the foot and make a blister. Hopefully the next one will be a true walking cast and I'm still healing the same.
Monday, March 05, 2007
A broken update
Last Wednesday I went to the orthopedist for a plan of action on my broken leg. It had been exactly a week since I broke it and I had been in an awkward splint the whole time. I was very ready to know what was going on.
Dr. Weiss, a kind older man, said that he would like to avoid surgery at all costs. Apparently, the type of fracture I have would require a pretty involved surgery, complete with pins and plates. I wasn't prepared to hear that. Plates? The pins I pretty much expected, but PLATES? In addition to the complexity of the surgery, I would be at risk for infection. Apparently, the type of break I have is not a great one.
When I break a bone, I do it well!
First thing I did at the appointment was get a couple more x-rays. I got to keep on the splint, but it was still awkward and very uncomfortable. Next, I met with dear Dr. Weiss who told me that if I followed everything he told me to do I would probably avoid surgery. In about three weeks I could probably get a walking cast and six weeks out we would know for sure if I was healing well enough to avoid the dreaded operation. Finally, I made it into the cast room.
The woman setting my cast was very nice and extremely friendly. She cut off my splint and I was amazed at how much the swelling had gone down in my ankle. I was also surprised at just how sensitive it still was. The slightest bump sent pain radiating up my leg and made me cringe. She asked me to pick out a cast color. Alicia had told me before she left for school that she would like me to have a pink cast. Unfortunately, the only pink available was a flourescent pink. I was definitely not ready for that. I chose a dark blue that resembled denim.
She set my foot on a metal stand as I sat on the edge of an office bed. My instinct was to not move my foot one iota, but she had other plans for me. I needed to lower my heel and bend my ankle as close to 90 degrees as possible. She allowed time for me to do it. Over the next couple of minutes I was able to get my foot almost at a right angle and she was happy with it. She confided that she didn't expect me to get it bent as far as I did.
Once it was all wrapped and set, I felt so much more comfortable. The difference between a splint and a cast was remarkable and it felt so much more secure with the hard cast keeping my foot in place. The cast wasn't quite as bulky as the splint, either, which was an added bonus.
I left with orders to continue keeping my foot elevated and to return on Monday afternoon so Dr. Weiss could keep tabs on my progress.
Today is Monday. I went back to Dr. Weiss's office and got an update on my healing. My cast was removed so that we could do some x-rays. The removal of the cast was quite interesting. A small saw is used, but it does not spin. It merely vibrates and cuts through the plaster rapidly. If it does happen to touch skin, it is painless. In fact, the cutting rather tickled. Once the cast was cut she proceeded to cut the soft materials underneath with scissors. Some extenders to further separate the cast and she was able to lift it off. Underneath all of the casting was a surprise for me - bruising had really set in. I thought that I felt a bruise happening in the past week, on the opposite side of the break. The woman (I really need to learn her name) told me that is a good sign. It meant that the swelling had been decreased enough for the bruise to come through and that I have been keeping my foot elevated as instructed. The blood flow is the way it is supposed to be.
I hobbled to x-ray on my crutches with my now-loose foot. The sensation was quite odd after having it encased for two weeks. In the x-ray room I was positioned on a table and told to hold my ankle in increasingly awkward positions, having to flex my toes upward each time. I wished that I had taken a pain pill a little sooner than I had; I took it just before I got to the doctor's office. Once the x-rays were done, I hobbled back down the hall and was put into an exam room.
Dr. Weiss came in and discussed my break. He said that it is healing exactly as it would if I had had the surgery done. If I continue to do this well I will definitely not need to have the surgery. I went back to the casting room.
There was an adorable three-year-old boy also in the casting room. He is actually only a couple of weeks older than my own three-year-old, Reece. He had a bright green cast removed and this time opted for safety orange. He had such a great personality! It helped get my mind off the fact that my uncasted foot was really beginning to throb.
The wonderful ortho tech finished up with him and came to do my new cast. This time I chose a light blue in honor of the spring weather that has hit us this week. Once again I set my foot on the metal stand and worked at getting it bent to a 90 degree angle. I got very close to it this time, closer than the first time. The warmth and stability of the cast was comforting to me.
And now here I sit, my leg once again elevated and me relegated to two more weeks of no activity. I go back in a couple of weeks for some more x-rays and hopefully a walking cast. I can't wait.
Dr. Weiss, a kind older man, said that he would like to avoid surgery at all costs. Apparently, the type of fracture I have would require a pretty involved surgery, complete with pins and plates. I wasn't prepared to hear that. Plates? The pins I pretty much expected, but PLATES? In addition to the complexity of the surgery, I would be at risk for infection. Apparently, the type of break I have is not a great one.
When I break a bone, I do it well!
First thing I did at the appointment was get a couple more x-rays. I got to keep on the splint, but it was still awkward and very uncomfortable. Next, I met with dear Dr. Weiss who told me that if I followed everything he told me to do I would probably avoid surgery. In about three weeks I could probably get a walking cast and six weeks out we would know for sure if I was healing well enough to avoid the dreaded operation. Finally, I made it into the cast room.
The woman setting my cast was very nice and extremely friendly. She cut off my splint and I was amazed at how much the swelling had gone down in my ankle. I was also surprised at just how sensitive it still was. The slightest bump sent pain radiating up my leg and made me cringe. She asked me to pick out a cast color. Alicia had told me before she left for school that she would like me to have a pink cast. Unfortunately, the only pink available was a flourescent pink. I was definitely not ready for that. I chose a dark blue that resembled denim.
She set my foot on a metal stand as I sat on the edge of an office bed. My instinct was to not move my foot one iota, but she had other plans for me. I needed to lower my heel and bend my ankle as close to 90 degrees as possible. She allowed time for me to do it. Over the next couple of minutes I was able to get my foot almost at a right angle and she was happy with it. She confided that she didn't expect me to get it bent as far as I did.
Once it was all wrapped and set, I felt so much more comfortable. The difference between a splint and a cast was remarkable and it felt so much more secure with the hard cast keeping my foot in place. The cast wasn't quite as bulky as the splint, either, which was an added bonus.
I left with orders to continue keeping my foot elevated and to return on Monday afternoon so Dr. Weiss could keep tabs on my progress.
Today is Monday. I went back to Dr. Weiss's office and got an update on my healing. My cast was removed so that we could do some x-rays. The removal of the cast was quite interesting. A small saw is used, but it does not spin. It merely vibrates and cuts through the plaster rapidly. If it does happen to touch skin, it is painless. In fact, the cutting rather tickled. Once the cast was cut she proceeded to cut the soft materials underneath with scissors. Some extenders to further separate the cast and she was able to lift it off. Underneath all of the casting was a surprise for me - bruising had really set in. I thought that I felt a bruise happening in the past week, on the opposite side of the break. The woman (I really need to learn her name) told me that is a good sign. It meant that the swelling had been decreased enough for the bruise to come through and that I have been keeping my foot elevated as instructed. The blood flow is the way it is supposed to be.
I hobbled to x-ray on my crutches with my now-loose foot. The sensation was quite odd after having it encased for two weeks. In the x-ray room I was positioned on a table and told to hold my ankle in increasingly awkward positions, having to flex my toes upward each time. I wished that I had taken a pain pill a little sooner than I had; I took it just before I got to the doctor's office. Once the x-rays were done, I hobbled back down the hall and was put into an exam room.
Dr. Weiss came in and discussed my break. He said that it is healing exactly as it would if I had had the surgery done. If I continue to do this well I will definitely not need to have the surgery. I went back to the casting room.
There was an adorable three-year-old boy also in the casting room. He is actually only a couple of weeks older than my own three-year-old, Reece. He had a bright green cast removed and this time opted for safety orange. He had such a great personality! It helped get my mind off the fact that my uncasted foot was really beginning to throb.
The wonderful ortho tech finished up with him and came to do my new cast. This time I chose a light blue in honor of the spring weather that has hit us this week. Once again I set my foot on the metal stand and worked at getting it bent to a 90 degree angle. I got very close to it this time, closer than the first time. The warmth and stability of the cast was comforting to me.
And now here I sit, my leg once again elevated and me relegated to two more weeks of no activity. I go back in a couple of weeks for some more x-rays and hopefully a walking cast. I can't wait.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Broken
I knew it the second it happened. I slipped, felt my ankle twist and heard a loud "CRACK, CRACK!!" In that split second I thought to myself, "I've broken my ankle." Then I hit the floor and the pain hit as well. Luckily, my husband was home instead of at work, where he had been scheduled to be. Otherwise, it would have been just our three year old and me. An ambulance would have been called.
He was still asleep in the back of the house with the bedroom door closed. I called his name. I knew I would have to call louder. I yelled again and then again. I still lay on the floor in excruciating pain. I dragged myself onto one of the dining room chairs and continued to call, my voice ragged and haggard with pain.
He's a heavy sleeper. I wondered if I'd be able to reach my cell phone and call him on the house phone - not that that was a guaranteed wake up, either. I am sure that I yelled his name about 20 times, hysterically, raw with pain and finally I heard him moving in the other room. He rushed out, down the hall, bleary-eyed with sleep. He knew that something was wrong; I am not the excitable sort.
He wasn't prepared for what he found. I was sobbing, cradling my ankle and repeating over and over again, "I broke it, I broke it."
Mike got our little guy Reece dressed. There was some delay as Reece wanted to wear his new flip-flops but could only find one of them. Finally, Mike put his foot down and told him that he was wearing his regular shoes because Mommy had to go to the doctor right then. Reece cried, but ultimately he complied.
I called my mom, who had the unfortunate distinction of being the person calling when I had the fateful fall, and told her that we were going to the ER because I broke my ankle. She felt very bad and headed up to meet us so that she could help with Reece. Sitting in the ER with a 3 year old is not the easiest thing to do.
At first, Mike was going to take me to the Urgent Care for the X-rays and some pain medications. When we got there, he looked at me and decided that I should go straight to the ER. Unfortunately, that meant driving 3 towns away due to our insurance. I never realized the freeways needed so much repair until I had to ride down one with a broken leg supported on a stack of coats.
By the time we got there, I had been broken for an hour. My mom wheeled me to the admissions desk while Mike parked the van and unloaded Reece. The admissions clerk ignored my admitting complaint of "broken ankle" and put down "twisted ankle". Then she sent me to the waiting room. Much later, I was called to triage.
I had cried plenty before getting to the hospital and am not crazy about crying in front of a room full of strangers. My coping mechanism is to joke and make light of things. The nurse in triage didn't bother to look at my ankle and said plenty of pithy things such as, "You must not have hurt it too badly if you're laughing and joking...."
I stifled the urge to give him a matching break in his leg.
I was sent back to the chairs. After about another half an hour, I was called back to triage where a different nurse checked my vitals and actually took the time to look at my ankle. She immediately ordered a 3 view X-ray to be done so that the doctors could treat me when I got back into the rooms. She apologized that she had no open beds at the time and sent me back to - you guessed it - the chairs.
Finally, the X-ray tech came to take my pictures. I was wheeled down a labyrinth of halls and into a small room. I carefully eased myself onto the table and gingerly placed my injured leg on the film. For each view I had to move and position my leg differently. This required moving my broken limb. I gave up on being stoic and was crying, albeit quietly. Big, huge, silent sobs wracked my body as I tried to be a good patient and stay still for the films. At one point, the tech said that she couldn't tell if I was laughing or crying. I assured her I was crying. They finished and Mike came in. I leaned into him and sobbed, my breath jagged with the pain.
It had been over 3 hours at this point.
The tech graciously offered to show me my interior. There it was, in black and white (and gray), a distinct break in the fibula, just above the malleolus. The amount of space between what should have been one solid bone was remarkable. There was no mistaking it; my 6 year old could have pointed out the break.
I went back to chairs. After awhile, during which I played dodge-the-passersby-and-don't-let-them-touch-my-foot, I told Mike and my mom that I would like to have some sort of pain medication, considering that I now had proof that my leg was indeed broken. My mom jumped on the opportunity to feel useful and went to the front desk to see why her baby wasn't in a room yet or at least medicated. I would have been happy for a single Tylenol at that point.
She came back with the news that they were cleaning out a room for me and would get me back there as soon as possible. As soon as possible being about another 10 minutes. I managed, once again, to get out of the wheelchair and onto a table. The nurse informed me that I would need to put on paper pants. Wow, this was just getting better and better. Let me tell you, there is nothing like taking off a pair of jeans and putting on paper pants all while trying NOT to jar your broken leg.
I managed to get into the pants, which didn't feel as papery as I expected, and a nurse practitioner made his way in to the room. Finally! Someone was going to take some action! Or so I thought. Mike pointed out that I hadn't received any sort of pain relief and had been there for 3 hours already (it had been 4 since I actually broke my leg). The NP asked if I wanted pain pills or a shot. I could have shot him! I opted for the shot, naturally.
Such relief in such a small needle. Finally, the sharp, searing pain was gone. The constant aching was lessened. There was still pain, but whereas it had been about an 8 or 9 previously, it was now diminished to around a 3. It was nothing I couldn't handle. In a few minutes, I was about to be extremely happy for that shot.
The NP said that they would be splinting my leg and referring me to an orthopedist who would decide whether to cast it or do surgery. He didn't think that surgery was a strong possibility.
The ortho tech entered along with an orderly. Only, they aren't called orderlies anymore. He was also called a tech, but I don't remember what kind. I was informed that he would be putting a plaster splint on my leg, but first of all they would have to MOVE it a little bit because it was leaning in and down a bit. I tried to convince him that it was matching the other foot, but he caught on to my ruse immediately and refused to believe me. I was told that it may hurt a bit, did I think that I could handle the pain?
I informed him that I have survived two natural childbirths, I can handle this as well.
It hurt. I will not lie. It hurt. I did not scream, I did not cry. I did groan and grunt with the pain a bit and clutch the rails of the bed as the younger of these men leaned against my foot and pushed it toward my broken leg. At one point I was told to relax my leg; I was fighting it too much. Um, yeah, that's not so easy to do.
Once he was done, the ortho tech informed me that I was very lucky that I didn't break any of the other bones and he was surprised that it was only the one. Then he informed me that it is very likely that I will need surgery.
I didn't care for the inconsistencies much.
I was sent home with a measly prescription for 15 vicodin and told to call my doctor for a referral to the ortho. I called him first thing the next morning, as soon as the phone lines opened and before he is actually in the office. Five hours later they called me back and said that they would refer and took down some information. Six hours later I called again and complained that I hadn't heard from the ortho and what is the status? The nurse said she'd call him again in the morning.
This morning, no news. I called again (I can be a bit of a pain when I have nothing to distract me from a mission). I was beginning to worry because there is no way that the Vicodin is going to last much longer than the weekend, if even all the way through. My doctor didn't have any appointments available until Monday afternoon. I was referred to Urgent Care.
Urgent Care. I can't stand it there. I am not crazy about the doctor working it; he's great with kids but always makes us adults feel as if we are mere med-seekers, looking for a quick fix. Even with my broken leg, fat splint and all of the notes in the system, he still seemed reluctant to prescribe me any medications. Finally, he prescribed a stronger dosage of Vicodin, enough to last me for 10 days. Wow, what a pal. *roll eyes here* He informed me that he looked at the notes going back and forth between the offices and it looks as if I won't be getting into the ortho office for another 7 to 10 days.
SEVEN TO TEN DAYS?!?!
I am not looking forward to this next week. I may have to devote my copious amount of free time to hounding the ortho office starting Monday.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Updating
I guess I just have been to busy to write in here. Or perhaps I've been too lazy to write in here. I think it's actually a combination of the two. I was re-reading my last post, the one from the day after Christmas. It was such a nice, sweet post. So cheerful and upbeat.
It left out such misery.
What I didn't say was that I was completely miserable the month of December. I was a walking migraine. It was horrible. The doctor got fed up with my insurance company refusing to pay for my Topamax and walked in with a sack full of samples for me. Hopefully he'll have plenty stocked up for the next time I visit him. Since I had such a headache, I didn't get out of the house much. I was a self-exiled hermit. It was horrible.
January was a little better. The Topamax started working. Alicia went back to school on the 8th. Life started getting back to normal. Mike had his 38th birthday on the 24th. I made him lasagna and German's chocolate cake from scratch as is our tradition. I went to women's retreat the last weekend of the month in Yosemite. Actually, it's right before you hit the park, about 2 miles ahead of the entrance, but it's so close that it may as well be Yosemite. It was wonderful and I felt as if the speakers were talking to ME. They could have thrown my name into every sentence and it would have been completely relevant.
I came home not feeling so hot. It was quick and relatively painless. Mike got it the next day and was not too bad off, either. Alicia, on the other hand, poor Alicia...she got a urinary tract infection last Monday. I took her to the doctor on Tuesday. That night she got a cold. At least, I think it was a cold. It may have been a virus. There was one going around her class that involved a cough and a low-grade fever. The poor girl had painful peeing and a phlegmy cough. How miserable can that be? She was out of school from Tuesday to Friday. It was also spirit week at school. She had to miss out on all the fun stuff that entailed. I felt so bad for her. However, her class won on participation and they got a pizza party today for celebration. She did go back today. It looked like most of her class was there. Out of 25 kids, 10 were sick last Friday!
Now I'm babbling. I think I'll go to bed.
It left out such misery.
What I didn't say was that I was completely miserable the month of December. I was a walking migraine. It was horrible. The doctor got fed up with my insurance company refusing to pay for my Topamax and walked in with a sack full of samples for me. Hopefully he'll have plenty stocked up for the next time I visit him. Since I had such a headache, I didn't get out of the house much. I was a self-exiled hermit. It was horrible.
January was a little better. The Topamax started working. Alicia went back to school on the 8th. Life started getting back to normal. Mike had his 38th birthday on the 24th. I made him lasagna and German's chocolate cake from scratch as is our tradition. I went to women's retreat the last weekend of the month in Yosemite. Actually, it's right before you hit the park, about 2 miles ahead of the entrance, but it's so close that it may as well be Yosemite. It was wonderful and I felt as if the speakers were talking to ME. They could have thrown my name into every sentence and it would have been completely relevant.
I came home not feeling so hot. It was quick and relatively painless. Mike got it the next day and was not too bad off, either. Alicia, on the other hand, poor Alicia...she got a urinary tract infection last Monday. I took her to the doctor on Tuesday. That night she got a cold. At least, I think it was a cold. It may have been a virus. There was one going around her class that involved a cough and a low-grade fever. The poor girl had painful peeing and a phlegmy cough. How miserable can that be? She was out of school from Tuesday to Friday. It was also spirit week at school. She had to miss out on all the fun stuff that entailed. I felt so bad for her. However, her class won on participation and they got a pizza party today for celebration. She did go back today. It looked like most of her class was there. Out of 25 kids, 10 were sick last Friday!
Now I'm babbling. I think I'll go to bed.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Merry Day After Christmas!!
I am sitting on my loveseat, relaxing after the super-busy day I had here yesterday. Yes, I am ON my LOVESEAT, not at the computer desk. Guess what I got for Christmas? hehehe...
We had a nice day yesterday. I had everyone over and I fed them all and let them open their gifts and generally spoiled the whole family all day. I made a yummy turkey and my own stuffing (my first!), Karnette brought a roast and made the mashed potatoes. My mom made pumpkin roll and wassail, her boyfriend brought fudge. Sweet potatoes, a fresh vegetable tray, pickles, olives, deviled eggs and pumpkin pies rounded out the meal.
The kids were so excited about their gifts. They each had an unwrappable present that was sitting in front of the tree in the morning. Alicia had a beautiful dollhouse and Reece had a roaring dinosaur. Our big purchase for the kids (and Mike) was an X-box 360, which Reece has claimed to be his. We also got several games to go with it. The kids got lots of needed clothing and also several movies. They both got radios from their grandma's boyfriend, "Grandpa" Dan.
Alicia got makeup so that she will stay out of mine. She got a Polly Pocket. Actually, it was Polly's friends Lila and Drew; I didn't know they had different names until a couple of days ago. Her grandma gave her a pretty necklace. We gave her a gold charm bracelet with a butterfly charm. We plan to add a charm a year for what she is interested in; by the time she is old enough to wear it, it should be full. She claims it is her favorite present. She also got door beads and a pink fuzzy chair. We gave her a Razor scooter. I can't believe she's old enough to want one! I gave her a game about toppling pizza. I'm sure there is something I'm forgetting, but oh well.
Reece got several items as well. He got a Spiderman blanket from his grandma. He got a Spiderman dinnerware set. A Star Wars light saber and Star Wars flight craft. A remote control elephant; sounds weird, but he loves it. Toy cars. A Spiderman figure that is completely poseable. He got a Darth Tater, which is a Mr. Potato Head, Star Wars themed. I'm sure he got more, too.
My big gift was, of course, my laptop. Mike got me the Gateway convertible notebook. I wanted the convertible for digital scrapbooking. So far, I love it!! He also got me a beautiful carrying case for it. It's so pretty!! Really pretty clothes and a gorgeous silver watch rounded it out.
He got some nice clothes, a leather coat, cologne, the Star Wars set and games for the X-box.
Even with all of those material gifts, the best thing about the day was the time spent with family. My favorite times are when the family is here and we are spending time just talking and laughing and being goofy with each other. That happens A LOT.
We're a goofy bunch. We tease each other. We make fun of each other. We also help each other. I love that I was in the kitchen with my mom and my sister, making yummy foods, pushing each other around in the tiny space with our rears (some of them bigger than others), tasting as we go and ordering every one else out. It's our domain and we kick out all others. We are very territorial about it. Someday I plan to include Alicia in it. I already do, to an extent.
Just not at Christmas.
And now, it's over. There's still a bit of a mess. The dishes are done, all but the turkey pan that is soaking. There are still some boxes that wouldn't fit into the garbage cans, but the garbage isn't collected until tomorrow morning. Not all of the gifts have found their proper homes yet. We still have all of our decorations up. They'll be there until New Year's, when we have our next big gathering.
I can't wait.
We had a nice day yesterday. I had everyone over and I fed them all and let them open their gifts and generally spoiled the whole family all day. I made a yummy turkey and my own stuffing (my first!), Karnette brought a roast and made the mashed potatoes. My mom made pumpkin roll and wassail, her boyfriend brought fudge. Sweet potatoes, a fresh vegetable tray, pickles, olives, deviled eggs and pumpkin pies rounded out the meal.
The kids were so excited about their gifts. They each had an unwrappable present that was sitting in front of the tree in the morning. Alicia had a beautiful dollhouse and Reece had a roaring dinosaur. Our big purchase for the kids (and Mike) was an X-box 360, which Reece has claimed to be his. We also got several games to go with it. The kids got lots of needed clothing and also several movies. They both got radios from their grandma's boyfriend, "Grandpa" Dan.
Alicia got makeup so that she will stay out of mine. She got a Polly Pocket. Actually, it was Polly's friends Lila and Drew; I didn't know they had different names until a couple of days ago. Her grandma gave her a pretty necklace. We gave her a gold charm bracelet with a butterfly charm. We plan to add a charm a year for what she is interested in; by the time she is old enough to wear it, it should be full. She claims it is her favorite present. She also got door beads and a pink fuzzy chair. We gave her a Razor scooter. I can't believe she's old enough to want one! I gave her a game about toppling pizza. I'm sure there is something I'm forgetting, but oh well.
Reece got several items as well. He got a Spiderman blanket from his grandma. He got a Spiderman dinnerware set. A Star Wars light saber and Star Wars flight craft. A remote control elephant; sounds weird, but he loves it. Toy cars. A Spiderman figure that is completely poseable. He got a Darth Tater, which is a Mr. Potato Head, Star Wars themed. I'm sure he got more, too.
My big gift was, of course, my laptop. Mike got me the Gateway convertible notebook. I wanted the convertible for digital scrapbooking. So far, I love it!! He also got me a beautiful carrying case for it. It's so pretty!! Really pretty clothes and a gorgeous silver watch rounded it out.
He got some nice clothes, a leather coat, cologne, the Star Wars set and games for the X-box.
Even with all of those material gifts, the best thing about the day was the time spent with family. My favorite times are when the family is here and we are spending time just talking and laughing and being goofy with each other. That happens A LOT.
We're a goofy bunch. We tease each other. We make fun of each other. We also help each other. I love that I was in the kitchen with my mom and my sister, making yummy foods, pushing each other around in the tiny space with our rears (some of them bigger than others), tasting as we go and ordering every one else out. It's our domain and we kick out all others. We are very territorial about it. Someday I plan to include Alicia in it. I already do, to an extent.
Just not at Christmas.
And now, it's over. There's still a bit of a mess. The dishes are done, all but the turkey pan that is soaking. There are still some boxes that wouldn't fit into the garbage cans, but the garbage isn't collected until tomorrow morning. Not all of the gifts have found their proper homes yet. We still have all of our decorations up. They'll be there until New Year's, when we have our next big gathering.
I can't wait.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Oh my crazy life (or, Just another day for Tammy)
My kids make life very difficult for me at times. Usually those times are in the morning (and in the afternoon and in the evening....haha). This morning was no exception. They were driving me crazy. By crazy I mean that I was ready to walk out the door and not come back.
Mike had to work a double shift so he was gone before 6 this morning. That meant that I had to wake Reece up and get him ready to go with me to drop Alicia off at school. This is never a fun time. That child, Reece, does not like to wake up. He likes to sleep in. He's a night owl, and even the 7 am wake-up call was too early for his liking.
I managed to get both kids up and moving. I put food in front of them. It didn't really get eaten. Reece's was mostly eaten, but Alicia hates to eat in the morning. She must take after me. I got Reece dressed after a lot of tickling and playing around. Alicia was a different story. She did not want to get dressed. At. All.
Lately she hasn't been wanting to go to school. I don't know why, because she seems perfectly fine once she's there and she's perfectly fine when I pick her up. She complains that she doesn't have friends, but I see little girls giving her hugs goodbye, hugs that they initiate.
This morning she did not want to go to school. I finally managed to get her dressed and then I set about to brushing her hair. She really needs to just cut it, to around her shoulders, but there is no way that she is going to do that. In the meantime, I fight and fight with her to let me brush the tangles out of it. Tangled it was. Very tangled. I finally made my way through the jungle of her hair.
I fought with her to get her new pink cowgirl boots on.
I made sure that everything was packed into her backpack and we were getting ready to walk out the door. I had no time to spare; the kids had managed to use up every spare minute I'd allowed.
I should have allowed an extra half an hour because Reece had spotted his sister's backpack. He wanted his Spiderman backpack. I didn't know where it was and we were now running late. His solution? What else but to throw a major fit, to have a massive meltdown, complete with screaming, crying and rigidly standing his ground? There was no other option - I went back into the house and found his backpack in record time in the mess that is their playroom.
I loaded the kids into the van. I started the van and turned on the defroster. The windows were iced over with the lacy crystals that are pretty look at, yet very hard to get off. I grabbed the hose and turned on the water and...
The pipes were frozen, or at least, the hose was frozen.
I got my keys, went back into the house for some water and wasted yet more time. I poured a large bowl of water (a Tupperware Thatsa Bowl, for those in the know) on the windshield and got it cleared. We were finally on our way - at a time that we should have been pulling into the school parking lot.
Once we finally got to the school I took her into the office and got her tardy slip. For the first time ever, I didn't walk her to class. I didn't have time; I had class shortly myself. The look on her face when she realized I wasn't going with her was heartbreaking.
I love walking her to class, taking the time to help her put away her backpack and watch her sign in. Watching her greet her friends with smiles and hugs and stories. It's special to me, because I know that if I stop watching and walking her to class she's going to grow up before I know it and she won't want me to walk her to class - or anywhere for that matter.
I headed out to the van with Reece. My next planned stop was in Riverbank at my friend Dawn's house. Mike usually stays home with Reece on the mornings I have school, but he had to work so Dawn agreed to watch Reece. It works out well since she is the mommy to Reece's best friend, David. By the time I reached their house, Reece was sound asleep. I unloaded him from the van and started to carry him up to her house. From my shoulder, where his soft cheek was resting, I heard, "Brrrr. It's cold out here." He was awake and ready to go play with his friend.
At this point I needed coffee. I ran out the door (practically, I didn't want Dawn to feel badly) and drove straight for Starbucks. I got a white chocolate mocha and a reduced fat blueberry coffee cake and headed for school - across the city of Modesto. Traffic wasn't exactly flowing the way I felt it should, but I wasn't too horribly late.
I walked into class about 5 minutes late, which was just in time to miss the professor's lecture to the class about not missing class and showing up on time. Oops!! That's okay. It was the first class I was late to, excluding the first class. I was only late to that one because it took me 45 minutes to find a parking spot.
Class was fine; we got a lot done.
I headed straight for Dawn's house after school. When I got there, Lo was there with her lovely Emma. Emma and the boys (and Ariana, we can't forget Ariana!) were running around wreaking havoc as usual. Dawn and Lo were sitting at the table eating breakfast foods. They offered me banana bread. I said, "Sure, I'll take a little."
Dawn cut out a piece that constituted 1/4 of the baking dish and set it in front of me! I protested, "That's way too big!"
You'd think I cursed their children. Jaws dropped. Lo's eyebrow went up. "Whaddaya mean it's too big?! We just ate the whole rest of that by ourselves!"
I grabbed a knife and cut it in half, a more decent sized portion, and smeared some margarine on it. Then I ate and we all talked and giggled. Lo said that she was distracted by my chest and Dawn agreed. I blushed, I'm sure, and we talked and laughed some more.
I told Lo that I just knew that she was going to go home and blog about my distracting boobs and how I insulted them by not eating very much banana bread. She insisted that she was nicer than that and would not do it. She's staying true to her word. I love that about her. She's so honest about everything. If she's going to blog about me, she usually lets me know to expect word bubbles with things I would never say coming out of my mouth, and I love it!! I love that she's honest enough to let me know it's going to happen and I even love that she has me saying strange things.
Lo gathered up Emma and went home for a nap. Dawn and I hung out on her sofa and looked at catalogs. I told her I love her for the fact that her house was messy. It makes me feel better about my own messy house and I love that she doesn't think she has to clean it up just because I'm coming over. It's nice to know I'm not the only one who can't keep up with life.
When I left Dawn's house I felt so peaceful. Reece was so happy to see me. He even stopped playing enough to give me kisses and hugs when I got there. When I picked Alicia up from school, she ran to me with her arms outstretched, hugging me from 20 feet away with a huge bear hug that I could practically feel for the seconds it took for her to reach me.
No matter how the days start and end, those kids are my life. Every fiber of me is so in love with them that I will never take that walk out the door and not come back.
Mike had to work a double shift so he was gone before 6 this morning. That meant that I had to wake Reece up and get him ready to go with me to drop Alicia off at school. This is never a fun time. That child, Reece, does not like to wake up. He likes to sleep in. He's a night owl, and even the 7 am wake-up call was too early for his liking.
I managed to get both kids up and moving. I put food in front of them. It didn't really get eaten. Reece's was mostly eaten, but Alicia hates to eat in the morning. She must take after me. I got Reece dressed after a lot of tickling and playing around. Alicia was a different story. She did not want to get dressed. At. All.
Lately she hasn't been wanting to go to school. I don't know why, because she seems perfectly fine once she's there and she's perfectly fine when I pick her up. She complains that she doesn't have friends, but I see little girls giving her hugs goodbye, hugs that they initiate.
This morning she did not want to go to school. I finally managed to get her dressed and then I set about to brushing her hair. She really needs to just cut it, to around her shoulders, but there is no way that she is going to do that. In the meantime, I fight and fight with her to let me brush the tangles out of it. Tangled it was. Very tangled. I finally made my way through the jungle of her hair.
I fought with her to get her new pink cowgirl boots on.
I made sure that everything was packed into her backpack and we were getting ready to walk out the door. I had no time to spare; the kids had managed to use up every spare minute I'd allowed.
I should have allowed an extra half an hour because Reece had spotted his sister's backpack. He wanted his Spiderman backpack. I didn't know where it was and we were now running late. His solution? What else but to throw a major fit, to have a massive meltdown, complete with screaming, crying and rigidly standing his ground? There was no other option - I went back into the house and found his backpack in record time in the mess that is their playroom.
I loaded the kids into the van. I started the van and turned on the defroster. The windows were iced over with the lacy crystals that are pretty look at, yet very hard to get off. I grabbed the hose and turned on the water and...
The pipes were frozen, or at least, the hose was frozen.
I got my keys, went back into the house for some water and wasted yet more time. I poured a large bowl of water (a Tupperware Thatsa Bowl, for those in the know) on the windshield and got it cleared. We were finally on our way - at a time that we should have been pulling into the school parking lot.
Once we finally got to the school I took her into the office and got her tardy slip. For the first time ever, I didn't walk her to class. I didn't have time; I had class shortly myself. The look on her face when she realized I wasn't going with her was heartbreaking.
I love walking her to class, taking the time to help her put away her backpack and watch her sign in. Watching her greet her friends with smiles and hugs and stories. It's special to me, because I know that if I stop watching and walking her to class she's going to grow up before I know it and she won't want me to walk her to class - or anywhere for that matter.
I headed out to the van with Reece. My next planned stop was in Riverbank at my friend Dawn's house. Mike usually stays home with Reece on the mornings I have school, but he had to work so Dawn agreed to watch Reece. It works out well since she is the mommy to Reece's best friend, David. By the time I reached their house, Reece was sound asleep. I unloaded him from the van and started to carry him up to her house. From my shoulder, where his soft cheek was resting, I heard, "Brrrr. It's cold out here." He was awake and ready to go play with his friend.
At this point I needed coffee. I ran out the door (practically, I didn't want Dawn to feel badly) and drove straight for Starbucks. I got a white chocolate mocha and a reduced fat blueberry coffee cake and headed for school - across the city of Modesto. Traffic wasn't exactly flowing the way I felt it should, but I wasn't too horribly late.
I walked into class about 5 minutes late, which was just in time to miss the professor's lecture to the class about not missing class and showing up on time. Oops!! That's okay. It was the first class I was late to, excluding the first class. I was only late to that one because it took me 45 minutes to find a parking spot.
Class was fine; we got a lot done.
I headed straight for Dawn's house after school. When I got there, Lo was there with her lovely Emma. Emma and the boys (and Ariana, we can't forget Ariana!) were running around wreaking havoc as usual. Dawn and Lo were sitting at the table eating breakfast foods. They offered me banana bread. I said, "Sure, I'll take a little."
Dawn cut out a piece that constituted 1/4 of the baking dish and set it in front of me! I protested, "That's way too big!"
You'd think I cursed their children. Jaws dropped. Lo's eyebrow went up. "Whaddaya mean it's too big?! We just ate the whole rest of that by ourselves!"
I grabbed a knife and cut it in half, a more decent sized portion, and smeared some margarine on it. Then I ate and we all talked and giggled. Lo said that she was distracted by my chest and Dawn agreed. I blushed, I'm sure, and we talked and laughed some more.
I told Lo that I just knew that she was going to go home and blog about my distracting boobs and how I insulted them by not eating very much banana bread. She insisted that she was nicer than that and would not do it. She's staying true to her word. I love that about her. She's so honest about everything. If she's going to blog about me, she usually lets me know to expect word bubbles with things I would never say coming out of my mouth, and I love it!! I love that she's honest enough to let me know it's going to happen and I even love that she has me saying strange things.
Lo gathered up Emma and went home for a nap. Dawn and I hung out on her sofa and looked at catalogs. I told her I love her for the fact that her house was messy. It makes me feel better about my own messy house and I love that she doesn't think she has to clean it up just because I'm coming over. It's nice to know I'm not the only one who can't keep up with life.
When I left Dawn's house I felt so peaceful. Reece was so happy to see me. He even stopped playing enough to give me kisses and hugs when I got there. When I picked Alicia up from school, she ran to me with her arms outstretched, hugging me from 20 feet away with a huge bear hug that I could practically feel for the seconds it took for her to reach me.
No matter how the days start and end, those kids are my life. Every fiber of me is so in love with them that I will never take that walk out the door and not come back.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
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