Friday, October 30, 2009

sigh of relief

Well, we're home and tonsil/adenoid free. The doc said Austin's tonsils were like golf balls. So there you go. He did pretty well before hand, until he got bored with playing with the hospital bed. Thankfully, not too long after that they came in with the liquid sedative.

They said the surgery would take 45 minutes and it did, pretty much to the second. It was the waking up that was hard for him. He fought and cried and cranked and ripped the IV out of his arm. And we sat and rocked in the chair and got him to drink water and they sent us home.

He was still pretty miserable at home until grandma (my mom) showed up with the yellow jello. (that's fun to say. Try it. Yellow jello. Yel-low jel-lo.) He was happy to see grandma and finally eat something (he didn't care for the popsicles we had, too cold). Then he watched DVDs until he dozed off on the couch. Every once in a while he'll sit up like a shot and whine and hold his throat. We kiss him and smooth him and he lays back down and falls back to sleep.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

T and A

No, not that T and A... Austin is getting his tonsils and adenoids removed this Friday and I am so fucking nervous. We’ve been down this road with Maya already, and with her we’ve done it enough to know what to expect… she hates anesthesia and FIGHTS it, furiously; but once she gets through it and the waking up and groggy feeling after, she bounces back beautifully. And knowing all that I still get nervous when she has to go under, which she has done several times so far in her short life (tubes in, tubes out, tubes in, and you shake it all about, tonsils/adenoids out, dental work, tubes in, fucking seriously, enough already). So not knowing how Austin will do with it is making me all kinds of wound up. And I know there’s no use in being worried, we’ll deal with it when we get there, however it goes. But still. This could be ugly. He’s a stubborn little turd. They’re gonna need the liquid sedative.

And the pain after really sucks. Two weeks of recovery aided by popsicles and DVDs.

But on top of all that is the relief that this day will finally come. He has needed this for some time now and I’ve been struggling with his pediatrician(s) just trying to get a referral to an ENT, and then when we finally did see an ENT, it took about 10 seconds for him to say we should do it, god love him. He asked me if I wanted time to think it over and I laughed. No. Let’s do it. And just like that, we had it scheduled for Friday.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Watch Them Grow

Barely

Ms. Moon asked us a question. Namely, how do YOU "do it" and are you crazy from it? I wasn't going to answer because, frankly, I try not to think about it. But then I got to thinking about it and, well...

First, my stats... I am 32, married to a 39 year old who is chronically ill and hasn't worked in three years but goes to school part-time. Important: He is Chronically Ill NOT Terminally Ill, death is not immanent, but he will be sick until he dies. We have two children, a 12.9 year old girl who is "mildly" mentally retarded and has a tendency to take her clothes off at inappropriate times, and a three year old boy who was once a very mellow baby but is now like a pre-schooler on crack (hopefully this will be corrected to some extent when he has his tonsils removed this Friday so he can maybe get some sleep). I have had the same full-time job for nine years and have worked in some capacity for the same employer for about 11 years. They are mostly very understanding about "family stuff" and thank god because I'm always taking someone to a doctor appointment or some such thing. I live in a 1400 square-foot three-bedroom house on a dirt road on a one acre portion of a 10 acre piece of land that my parents own, so I will never be homeless. My sixty-something parents live a couple hundred feet away and my 76 year old mother-in-law lives in my house and she just found out she has skin cancer. My parents are retired, but are often pre-occupied with church commitments and their own aging parents who are in their late eighties and early nineties.

How I "do it"... I get up at 5 AM every day of the world. My kids take a bath EVERY DAY after dinner because like me, they get The Funk fast, and I ain't putting up with that shit. Most of what I "cook" comes out of a box, bag or jar and gets doctored up a bit. I haven't made anything from scratch since Home Ec in the seventh grade. But I do have standards as to what is in the box, bag or jar. Most of the time. The eating dishes go in the dishwasher and most of the cooking dishes get done by me at 6 AM on Saturday morning or 9 PM on Monday night. The pots stack up a bit during the week, more so if my husband decides he wants to cook (god help me), less so if he grills out back (thank god for the grill). My whole house is dirty so I try not to wear my glasses at home so I don't see it. I dropped my birth control pill on the kitchen floor yesterday morning and as I was down on all fours looking for it, I thought the dried gunk and dog hair on the floor might make me throw up. My house only gets really clean when I am hosting a Family Dinner, usually Thanksgiving, Easter and Fourth of July. I go to yoga and therapy during my "lunch" and take my son out for a walk/hike/explore on Saturday morning when my daughter goes to church with my parents (Seventh-day Adventists). I gave up religion when I was five or so but attend special occasions, like the Christmas play, to support the believers I love. I make decent money, but don't see much of it because I spend a small fortune on daycare/preschool for my son because my husband was having too many bad days with his illness to keep him home all the time. I have lost most of my "real life" friends to distance or other circumstances, so my blog friends, a couple work friends and my mama and grandma are all the friends I have. I listen to music all the time and would me much more crazy than I am without it.

Friday, October 23, 2009

The real cure for depression: Anger

I’m having trouble focusing lately. Whenever I get like this, my mother says it’s because I’m tired. But I’ve been tired since I was born to motherhood and sometimes I think I’ll be tired until I’m dead. But this out-of-focus-ness comes and goes. And sometimes, along with it, comes a sort of emotional numbness.

The numbness is what comes when my depression and/or dissatisfaction has exhausted itself. I don’t mean to say it’s gone away or gotten better, it has just worn itself out. Or rather, worn me out. So I guess in some ways, my mother is right, I am tired. But it’s not a sleepy or physical kind of tired. It is the sludgy trenches of depression.

There are things that help. I am truly grateful for yoga. And I am considerably less desperate than I was before I started taking Prozac. But it is still just… there. I don’t know what kind of shape I would be in if I didn’t have a three-year-old that doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer when it’s time to get up in the morning. Because of him I get my ass up and out of the house to walk and explore on the weekends.

And I know that for some people, even a stubborn three-year-old isn’t strong enough to temporarily combat their depression or other mental illness. I know it.

.::.

This morning, just before my yoga class was going to begin, the topic of recycling came up. A woman next to me was talking about taking bottles into the recycling center and asked me if I did that. I said no (my trash service picks up recyclables every other week) and, I told her, I don’t have enough storage space to collect bottles for the recycling center. She said “yes you do; you’re just too lazy.” That word – lazy – hung there for a minute. I don’t take kindly to that word. She went on to explain that when she takes her bottles in, she gets about $2 for her trouble. I shrugged, as if to say, okay, that’s not worth it to me. Then she said that she wished she was as rich as me, to not care about $2. Then she asked “are you rich?” No. “Well,” she said, “maybe that’s why you're not.” At this point I decided I didn’t care if I ever spoke to this woman again in my life.

At various points in the class, the yoga instructor reminded us to let go. To be present. I was having a little trouble letting this conversation go. I kept imagining myself kicking that woman in the head. But I didn’t kick her. I just wrote it instead.

Why did this bother me? Well, this woman doesn't know me. She doesn't know how much space I have, how many people I have in that space, how much I work to keep things going. I CHOOSE not to collect bottles and cans to trade in for money. They still get recycled. I just don't want them sitting around the house for months (and it would take that long to collect enough to bother taking the time to make a trip, because WE DON'T EVEN USE THAT MANY BOTTLES, BITCH.)

End rant.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Not so free bird

I stopped into my neighborhood home improvement store yesterday for just a moment to buy a plate hanger for the newest addition to my collection of Blue Willow plates. As I was checking out, I heard the sound of a bird and could tell it was close enough to be inside. I asked the cashier, and she pointed up to a skylight where the poor bird was trying to fly up and out, only to repeatedly smack himself into the glass. I said something about him thinking the light meant there was a way out, and another employee said the bird had been there all week (whatever that means on a Tuesday). I asked if they had put out a bowl of water for him. Employee #2 said that they had been trying to get him out. How, I wonder, do you try to get a bird out of a skylight that is 40 feet overhead? Butterfly net and a cherry picker maybe?

I left and went on with my day, but find myself still wondering about that poor bird. Is he full of anxiety? Do birds feel anxiety? Does he have a nest to get back to? Is he getting tired and ready to give up?

Monday, October 19, 2009

Friday, October 16, 2009

Interracial couple denied marriage license in La.

NEW ORLEANS – A white Louisiana justice of the peace said he refused to issue a marriage license to an interracial couple out of concern for any children the couple might have.

Keith Bardwell, justice of the peace in Tangipahoa Parish, says it is his experience that most interracial marriages do not last long.

"I'm not a racist. I just don't believe in mixing the races that way," Bardwell told the Associated Press on Thursday. "I have piles and piles of black friends. They come to my home, I marry them, they use my bathroom. I treat them just like everyone else."

.::.

Read the full story here. "They [my black friends] use my bathroom," was ABSOLUTELY my favorite bit. I mean, seriously. What the fuck? What year is this? Who is our president?

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

While we're sharing

With all this talk about bicycles (here and here) I feel compelled to share something. I cannot ride a bike.

It’s not for lack of trying or anything; I just have really horrendous balance and equilibrium issues. I had lots of ear issues as a youngin (not unlike my own daughter) and didn’t even start walking until after my first set of tubes. My mom loves to tell the story about how strong I was, and how I tried to walk but would never let go of her. That is until the night we came home from getting tubes in my ears (the first time) and I walked away from her to some furniture, putting one foot in front of the other like a little pro.

Anyway. Can’t ride a bike. It seems like it would be such a good thing to do though. So, when I have money (ha!) I’ll be in the market for an adult tricycle, like the old woman I am.

I can’t swim either. (Sad face.)

Where the Wild Things Are

Confession: I have never read the book (cuz I'm a girl?), BUT I am excited about the movie.

Maybe I'll go buy the book today for the kids. I got a copy of the soundtrack for my birthday, and this song is one of my favorites from the CD. It's slow, but worth it (I think).

Contrariwise has been celebrating the upcoming release of the movie with tattoos featuring illustrations from the book, and oh my god, check out the commitment here:

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This is Miss Grace’s tattoo of one of the Wild Rumpus scenes from Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak.

Wow. She still plans on getting color.

I never go see movies in the theater cuz it costs tooooo much, but I eagerly await the DVD.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

One-legged waterwheel

I went back to yoga yesterday for the first time in a couple months. Every time I go back after taking a break, for whatever reason, I ask myself “why did I ever stop going?!?” Sometimes I think I need yoga more than therapy. I’ll keep both for now, but if someone made me choose tomorrow, it wouldn’t be a hard decision.

Anyway, blah blah blah, with yoga you either get it or you don’t, so I’ll shut up about it. Except to say that I must have been trying a little too hard to prove that fat girls can do it too, because my abs hurt.

I turned 32 on Sunday. It was a nice day. Austin has been sick so we’re trying to keep him low-key. I have exactly two things to say about turning 32… What the fuck happened to the last 14 years? Seriously. And… Only 23 years until retirement! Woo-hoo. Kidding.

Monday, October 12, 2009

What works for me

Prozac.

Yasmin.*

Yoga.

Water.

Fiber.

More Water.

I really want a Mountain Dew. HAVE MORE WATER.

I have a really bad headache. Okay, have the Mountain Dew. But then have some water.

Take a damn walk already.

.::.

*There are side effects and shit. Talk to your doctor.

Rain by The Beatles

I'm not sure how it's possible, but I had never heard this song before this weekend. It seemed so befitting my blog title I had to post it.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

I love me a good hippie catalog

I got a catalog today from Northern Sun with all kinds of fun hippie/tree hugger paraphernalia.

One t-shirt made me laugh out loud. It said, "God used to be my copilot, but we crashed into the mountains and I had to eat him." No offense intended to the believers, it just tickled me.

But my hands down favorite is the poster shown here. It reads: I pledge allegiance to the Earth, and all the life which it supports. One planet, in our care, irreplaceable, with sustenance and respect for all.

As the daughter and granddaughter of public school teachers, and a long time partaker of public education, I immediately thought of the hundreds of mornings spent reciting the pledge of allegiance (to the flag) and had a mini-fantasy about starting a private/charter school where we would recite this pledge to the Earth every morning. We could have a school garden and use the veggies and fruits for the students' lunches. We could take field trips to local dairies and popular hiking locations. And...

Help me with this fantasy school. What would you like to see there?

Thursday, October 8, 2009

37 days and counting...

Okay, I figured we needed an update on the Great Birthday Countdown. And I needed to get my head out of my ass. So. A bike. For the almost 13 year-old. I still can’t get used to that. Thirteen!

I looked first at Target, mostly because I’m always at Target, so I might as well look, right? It’s a Super Target, which you have to say like it’s a superhero… SOUP-PER TAR-GET! Anyway, they didn’t have any beach cruisers, but they do have a nice mountain bike. And it’s purple. Purple is good. But it’s not a beach cruiser and SHE SAID BEACH CRUISER.

Next was Sport Chalet. I wanted to go to the local mom-and-pop bike shop next, but the hubs said they would be too expensive, try Sport Chalet. HA! You wanna talk expensive. Sport Chalet is a NO.

So there I was in the mom-and-pop bicycle store. :) They don’t have anything in stock that meets our needs, but can order something quickly from a place that HAND BUILDS bikes in Huntington Beach. Awesome! We would be supporting TWO semi-local businesses. Hellsa yes. Problem = it’s twice as much as the mountain bike at Target and money is an object.

Next was craigslist. I found an awesome, pink, 24” beach cruiser for $150. In Inglewood. I am nowhere near LA and Inglewood? Is. We’re talking 90 miles away. So not happening with the hubs.

I still really like the idea of the more spensive cruiser from the local business, but the more-logical-than-me hubs is pushing for the Target mountain bike. (And no, that’s not why I was pissed at him this morning.)

good reading

I don't have it in me today to write and be positive. I'm tired and weary, but this is good, you should read this.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

All of My Days

Another song from the Away We Go soundtrack.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Walk & Don't Look Back

Monday, October 5, 2009

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Deathdays and Birthdays

Today is the first anniversary of my father-in-law’s death. Less than two weeks ago we celebrated what would have been his 78th birthday with his favorite flavor of ice-cream, chocolate chip. He never liked cake, so there was none on his birthday.

It’s hard to believe a year has passed, and along with it all of those firsts. The first Thanksgiving without him, the first Christmas, his and my mother-in-law’s anniversary in May. With all of those firsts out of the way I think the shock of his absence is lessened. Now there is mostly that bittersweet feeling of loving and missing.

Up until 2004 my in-laws lived less than a 10-minute drive away from us. But that fall they got a wild hare to move out of state, to Arkansas of all places. They enjoyed it there some, I’m sure, but my father-in-law’s health became more and more of an issue and in the summer of 2008 they decided it was time to come back. On September 3, 2008, my husband got on a plane to help them pack up and drive to California, and I stayed home with the kids to get our little house ready to hold 2 more people. The house has done quite well, I must say. It’s a good, flexible house.

On Wednesday September 17, 2008, my husband and his parents finally pulled into our driveway. Their trip west was an exhausting one fraught with tornados and the challenges of traveling with a very sick old man. On Friday, September 19, he was admitted to a local hospital with congestive heart failure. He spent his last birthday in the hospital on September 24, but he was released on the 26th and we celebrated his birthday with him the following day. The day after that, Sunday September 28, we called 911 and he was back in the hospital. Late in the night on October 3, the hospital called and said that his breathing had changed, if we wanted to be there for him, it was time. I was unable to wake my husband or my mother-in-law; they were so exhausted from everything. I called my mom to come over in case the kids woke up and I drove to the hospital.

I held his hand. I read Psalm 23 out loud from the bible in the bedside table. It wasn’t the King James Version though, that one is the best for Psalm 23. I told him that we would take care of his wife and that we would miss him, that we would always love him. There was no death rattle. His nearly imperceptible breathing became harder and harder to witness, and when I hadn’t seen his chest rise and fall for a few moments, I went and got the nurse and said I thought he was gone. By that time it was sometime after 1 AM on October 4.

The week following his death was one of the hardest, if not the hardest week, my family has ever experienced. When the funeral was done and over, my mother-in-law was sick from exhaustion. The day after his funeral, we celebrated my birthday and thus began this first year without him.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Poll: Nose Ring

I am hereby soliciting your opinion. I am trying to decide whether to get a nose ring. I think they look pretty, especially on Indian women, not that I am Indian or anything... as far as I know (I am something of a mutt). Anyway, it would be on the side, not through the middle, just because I like that better.

So, what say you? Yay or Nay?

My mom says nay. Actually, her exact words were “please don’t get a nose ring.” And she was dead serious, almost pleading. I’m old enough to not be pushed toward doing something out of rebellion, but am I old enough to not be afraid of disappointing my mother? I really don’t know.

I will admit that some of my reservation stems from my age. I will be 32 in 9 days. Am I too old to do such a thing?

.::.

Disclaimer: Please understand that even if the overall consensus is strong one way or the other, I will still do what I damn well please in the end. I just think it’s fun to get people’s opinions.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Oh! Sweet Nuthin', Away We Go


I just watched Away We Go for the first time last night. Great movie. The scene that featured this song ripped my heart out and smashed it into the floor of a dive bar.

I can't say it any better than this reviewer, so if you want to, read this.