I took a really good hard look at my hands today. Not to admire a great manicure, or my rings, but to be surprised that I have my mom's hands. Not size-wise mind you, she was 5'5'' and I'm 6' even, but the age showing on the backs of my hands. The hands now have age spots & lines...the skin looks like the backside of an old elephant. All these years I've taken care of my face and been pretty blessed with a lack of serious wrinkles and lines, only to find out EVERY wrinkle and line is on the backs of my hands! I was wondering where the face lines would go.
I never had a problem aging, as a matter of fact I had wondered when getting older would bother me. Now it is a few months before number 44, and it finally hits me. I'm approaching my next birthday like most men handle their mid-life crisis. (Ok, no affair...I only have the stomach for ONE man at a time!) I've bought all new makeup, younger looking clothes, I'd go for the convertible if I hadn't just recently got a new car. Mind you, I've never been a fashionista, for the past 5 years I've lived in sweat pants and t-shirts.
All this time I thought I was aging with grace...instead I'm aging into my mother. I'm going to hit the face cream and put it on my hands. That, and a good drink for my soul.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Sick day.
I made the awful mistake of eating something I shouldn't...and paid the price yesterday. I spent the day sick in bed with all the horrible side effects of food poisoning. I had to force myself up long enough to pick up my son from school and wait for the husband to come home. My butt prints are still on the couch.
Once my husband arrived I immediately went back to bed. Within 30 seconds of my head hitting the pillow, in came my son. He informed me that he was my doctor and he was going to take care of me. He ran off, I presumed to get his doctor's kit, but he came back carrying his tool box. I asked him if he was going to use those on Mommy and he grinned from ear to ear. He grabbed the little plastic saw and began "cutting" on my leg. Actually it tickled like hell, but I was too sick to complain. My little doctor told me he would cut off my head and I would feel better. I fell asleep out of exhaustion while my little doctor kept working on me with his play tools.
I woke up this morning feeling much better. Hurray for the little doctor with the tool box!
I am still trying to find my head though.
Once my husband arrived I immediately went back to bed. Within 30 seconds of my head hitting the pillow, in came my son. He informed me that he was my doctor and he was going to take care of me. He ran off, I presumed to get his doctor's kit, but he came back carrying his tool box. I asked him if he was going to use those on Mommy and he grinned from ear to ear. He grabbed the little plastic saw and began "cutting" on my leg. Actually it tickled like hell, but I was too sick to complain. My little doctor told me he would cut off my head and I would feel better. I fell asleep out of exhaustion while my little doctor kept working on me with his play tools.
I woke up this morning feeling much better. Hurray for the little doctor with the tool box!
I am still trying to find my head though.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Crazy drivers...aren't we all?
WARNING...the following is a rant of the highest caliber!
Ugh. I hate taking my son to school. Okay, I hate taking my son to school in a CAR. The parking lot at his school is the most dangerous place I have ever seen. This morning I decided to park in the front parking lot instead of the teacher's parking lot where I usually park. Because I have been ill lately, I really needed to have my obligatory walking-my-child-to-his-classroom time as short as possible. He's in kindergarten, so dumping him off at the curb is not an option until he is in second grade, at least.
Pulling into the parking lot, I see the normal line of traffic waiting their turn to drop their kids off at the curb. I pull to the left to go to the parking areas just as three cars couldn't wait any longer and pulled out from that line. The only problem was I was occupying the space they wanted to occupy. After horns honked and fingers pointed, I continued on to find a parking spot. I found an empty spot just as another car's doors flung open and five kids jumped out of the car right in front of me as I was already entering the parking space. I sighed, remembering why I know what I'm doing is a bad idea, I should have parked in the teacher's parking area. After that car pulled out, another truck pulled in next to me, parking his front bumper so close I could not get out of my car. Damn, I was really losing my patience now. I rolled down my window and asked, no yelled at the idiot to back up and let me out of my car. I get another finger pointed at me. I still have my son in the back seat, so I let it go and wait. Except the fool in his truck refuses to move. I rearrange things in my car so I can crawl out the passenger side and take my child to class. I walked around to the front of my car when the jerk pulls out of his spot laughing and giving me the finger again. Yes, I caved and flipped him off right back and it wasn't as satisfying as I thought.
After dropping my son off at his classroom and getting back to my car, I was literally shaking when I got back to my car. Still, after the first bell rings, cars are still speeding around the parking lot so I decide to wait to move my car. I decided the way was clear enough to try to pull out and head home. I started backing up and I will be damned if every car kept speeding by, even when I thought I had the clear someone would fill the space. Finally I managed to extricate my car from the school parking lot and head home.
Whatever happened to driving carefully in a school zone? Why must adults speed through a school parking lot like it is the Indy 500? Whatever happened to good old-fashioned manners and looking out for each other? In this kiss-my-a** society we have developed, we've lost something along the way. I think we lost ourselves and our civility. What a sad day for us all.
I won't hold a grudge about anything this mornng. As a matter of fact, I'm going to do the opposite...make my negative experience into a positive one. I'll do something nice for someone today. I challenge you all to do the same.
'Nuff said.
Ugh. I hate taking my son to school. Okay, I hate taking my son to school in a CAR. The parking lot at his school is the most dangerous place I have ever seen. This morning I decided to park in the front parking lot instead of the teacher's parking lot where I usually park. Because I have been ill lately, I really needed to have my obligatory walking-my-child-to-his-classroom time as short as possible. He's in kindergarten, so dumping him off at the curb is not an option until he is in second grade, at least.
Pulling into the parking lot, I see the normal line of traffic waiting their turn to drop their kids off at the curb. I pull to the left to go to the parking areas just as three cars couldn't wait any longer and pulled out from that line. The only problem was I was occupying the space they wanted to occupy. After horns honked and fingers pointed, I continued on to find a parking spot. I found an empty spot just as another car's doors flung open and five kids jumped out of the car right in front of me as I was already entering the parking space. I sighed, remembering why I know what I'm doing is a bad idea, I should have parked in the teacher's parking area. After that car pulled out, another truck pulled in next to me, parking his front bumper so close I could not get out of my car. Damn, I was really losing my patience now. I rolled down my window and asked, no yelled at the idiot to back up and let me out of my car. I get another finger pointed at me. I still have my son in the back seat, so I let it go and wait. Except the fool in his truck refuses to move. I rearrange things in my car so I can crawl out the passenger side and take my child to class. I walked around to the front of my car when the jerk pulls out of his spot laughing and giving me the finger again. Yes, I caved and flipped him off right back and it wasn't as satisfying as I thought.
After dropping my son off at his classroom and getting back to my car, I was literally shaking when I got back to my car. Still, after the first bell rings, cars are still speeding around the parking lot so I decide to wait to move my car. I decided the way was clear enough to try to pull out and head home. I started backing up and I will be damned if every car kept speeding by, even when I thought I had the clear someone would fill the space. Finally I managed to extricate my car from the school parking lot and head home.
Whatever happened to driving carefully in a school zone? Why must adults speed through a school parking lot like it is the Indy 500? Whatever happened to good old-fashioned manners and looking out for each other? In this kiss-my-a** society we have developed, we've lost something along the way. I think we lost ourselves and our civility. What a sad day for us all.
I won't hold a grudge about anything this mornng. As a matter of fact, I'm going to do the opposite...make my negative experience into a positive one. I'll do something nice for someone today. I challenge you all to do the same.
'Nuff said.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
New Kia Sedona?
Back in August 2008 I needed to go buy a new car after being in a rather serious collision and having my other car totalled by the insurance company. After much deciding what features I needed the most, I found a Kia Sedona, nearly new, for a great deal. I have been really happy with the performance of the new car until the past few weeks. It seems that Kia only intends their braking system to last about 14,000 miles. No, I am not kidding, I just had my brakes and rotors replaced at just 14,000 miles! The pads were well worn and the rotors were badly warped. Now, before you say I ride the brakes too much, I tend the exact opposite. I hate braking. Okay, now get off the floor from all the laughing, but I really do hate it. I tend to be that jerk in front of you who decides that coasting to the red light ahead is better than screaming up to said red light and then slamming on the brakes. It also keeps the guy in front of me from getting pissed off by my rapid arrival.
Anyway, while at the dealership, I decided that I needed to lighten up a little since my days have been kind of intense. So after flirting with my service advisor at the dealership (it's okay, he was about 400 lbs on a good day, not my type!) I settled into the waiting room and watched a rather harried mom with 2 kids ages 3 & 4 try to get them to settle down. Being a harried mom myself at times, I grabbed my son's toy basket out of my car just as they were about to take my car for a test drive and brought it back in the lounge. The mom's face said it all; sometimes we all need someone to just give us a little break! As her kids played with my son's toy cast-offs, we struck up a good conversation about our cars. Turns out we both have the exact same model with the exact same problem! I don't think the service advisor liked that we were comparing notes!
I started talking about my other problem with the car. It turns out there is a naughty little guy that lives under the passenger side seat. This guys only job is to find out how much the person weighs in that seat and then decide if that person qualifies for airbag protection or not. I found out that I can make his day a living hell if I throw my heavy bag on the seat. The airbag system goes wonky and refuses to operate at all unless I get my damn bag off the seat! What I want to know is will this little guy one day decides to ask me when I sit in the passenger seat "What the hell happened to your diet?"
I figure I just won't ride in the passenger seat. At least not until I lose another 100 pounds. I'll show that little tattletail under the seat. I'll cover his butt in McDonald's wrappers.
'Nuff said.
Anyway, while at the dealership, I decided that I needed to lighten up a little since my days have been kind of intense. So after flirting with my service advisor at the dealership (it's okay, he was about 400 lbs on a good day, not my type!) I settled into the waiting room and watched a rather harried mom with 2 kids ages 3 & 4 try to get them to settle down. Being a harried mom myself at times, I grabbed my son's toy basket out of my car just as they were about to take my car for a test drive and brought it back in the lounge. The mom's face said it all; sometimes we all need someone to just give us a little break! As her kids played with my son's toy cast-offs, we struck up a good conversation about our cars. Turns out we both have the exact same model with the exact same problem! I don't think the service advisor liked that we were comparing notes!
I started talking about my other problem with the car. It turns out there is a naughty little guy that lives under the passenger side seat. This guys only job is to find out how much the person weighs in that seat and then decide if that person qualifies for airbag protection or not. I found out that I can make his day a living hell if I throw my heavy bag on the seat. The airbag system goes wonky and refuses to operate at all unless I get my damn bag off the seat! What I want to know is will this little guy one day decides to ask me when I sit in the passenger seat "What the hell happened to your diet?"
I figure I just won't ride in the passenger seat. At least not until I lose another 100 pounds. I'll show that little tattletail under the seat. I'll cover his butt in McDonald's wrappers.
'Nuff said.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
A sad day.
I received an email from one of my friends in my "allergic kids" group. I usually open those emails with glee, knowing that the person writing is one of the few people who really understand what raising a child with severe food allergies is like. Never mind the constant "it's all in your head" approach, or the "let your damn kids get dirty and develop an immune system" approach. The group of women and men I correspond with online have all developed close friendships based on the one thing: raising our children in a world where even the smallest morsel of the wrong food could make our child very ill, or worse.
I sat staring at the computer screen for at least a half hour. The "or worse" scenario was playing out right in front of my eyes. My friend sent me an email that her eight year old son with a severe nut allergy had come in skin contact with peanut oil, stopped breathing, went into a coma, and died right before Thanksgiving. My heart ached as I watched my own son playing on the floor.
Moments like these make me wonder why I chose to enroll my child in a public school. No matter how hard I try to protect him, short of placing him into a bubble I can not. It is not society's problem that my child has food allergies, the burden is mine to carry. My son is has severe food allergies to peanuts, tree nuts, soy, citrus, pineapple, onion, nightshades (eggplant), and to a lesser degree, milk, cinnamon and egg. I face constant battles to find "safe" foods that he can tolerate.
The thought that a small amount of peanut oil on his skin could kill my son makes my blood run cold. The blood test that my son has every year placed him at a "level VI" for peanut. Just a small amount could cause his airway to swell and fluid to fill his lungs in seconds. Yes, I can be a paraniod parent when my child is in public. I believe I am as cautious as I can be and still allow him to have as normal of a life as possible.
I can only hope that the ones that think food allergies are trivial will find this blog and say a prayer for the little boy who died because he touched peanut oil.
'Nuff said.
I sat staring at the computer screen for at least a half hour. The "or worse" scenario was playing out right in front of my eyes. My friend sent me an email that her eight year old son with a severe nut allergy had come in skin contact with peanut oil, stopped breathing, went into a coma, and died right before Thanksgiving. My heart ached as I watched my own son playing on the floor.
Moments like these make me wonder why I chose to enroll my child in a public school. No matter how hard I try to protect him, short of placing him into a bubble I can not. It is not society's problem that my child has food allergies, the burden is mine to carry. My son is has severe food allergies to peanuts, tree nuts, soy, citrus, pineapple, onion, nightshades (eggplant), and to a lesser degree, milk, cinnamon and egg. I face constant battles to find "safe" foods that he can tolerate.
The thought that a small amount of peanut oil on his skin could kill my son makes my blood run cold. The blood test that my son has every year placed him at a "level VI" for peanut. Just a small amount could cause his airway to swell and fluid to fill his lungs in seconds. Yes, I can be a paraniod parent when my child is in public. I believe I am as cautious as I can be and still allow him to have as normal of a life as possible.
I can only hope that the ones that think food allergies are trivial will find this blog and say a prayer for the little boy who died because he touched peanut oil.
'Nuff said.
The start of my journey.
I decided I need to blog to vent out my frustrations. Whether it is raising my son, dealing with my in-laws, or just life in general....I figure that putting it all out for the world to see is better than keeping it all inside. I'm discovering that repressed anger can make you sicker than the most virulent of viruses, so here goes my best attempt.
I don't plan to be a regular blogger...what you see is what you get, or like my son's kindergarten class chants, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit!"
A life lesson from a bunch of 5 year olds.
'Nuff said.
I don't plan to be a regular blogger...what you see is what you get, or like my son's kindergarten class chants, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit!"
A life lesson from a bunch of 5 year olds.
'Nuff said.
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