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Wow Thursday October 1, 2009

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
6 comments
I was looking for a quote I used often a long time ago and have since forgotten the end to, and decided maybe I’d find it in my blog archives.  Of course, I didn’t.  Too much to slog through, I was hoping maybe it was in one of the titles, but no.  What made me say "Wow" was how much I’ve written in all these years, and how many readers I’ve lost in the past year and a half.  Some have left blog land, some have just left me.  That, of course, is my fault:  not only was I absent for quite a while and then only sporadic, but I was quite depressing when I did manage to get online and write.  So thank you to the faithful few who’ve stuck around to come see how me and mine are doing.  I love you too.  =)

Laura hosted her first sleep-over this past week-end.  Skyler, Krysta and Heidi came over to play, all friends from her Head Start experience last year.  Krysta is also in her kindergarten class this year now and Sky lives close to us even if they don’t play together very often.  Heidi is still in HS, she’s just turned 5 last month.  Heidi is the sweetest little darlin’ ever, all kitty cats and pink ribbons and soft baby dolls.  Sky and Krysta are more "Let’s play DIE, DIE, DIE!" and "You can’t be on the top bunk because you’re wearing short pajamas and we’re wearing long pants jammies" types.  Weird as it is, normally agressive Laura is strangely quiet and cooperative with everyone when she’s with her peers, she’ll go along with whatever is going on as long as it isn’t a competitive game.  Needless to say, there were a number of times I had to pet Heidi while she cried, explain to Sky and Krysta that we don’t play bloodthirsty games at my house, break up little fights every 4 minutes…
And of course it rained all day.  You know it did.
Heidi didn’t get to spend the night, her grandma hasn’t cut the umbilical cord that much yet, even though Mom was willing and Heidi begged.  But at least she didn’t get tortured in the Barbie bloodfest that went on later at 10:30 pm when Krysta wanted to reenact a scene from Saw 3 after I was dumb enough to leave them alone for 10 minutes.  Laura alerted me to *that* one. 

I remember Jess and Becca’s sleepovers at that age when all I had to worry about was if any of the girls were going to say any naughty words one of the other kids hadn’t heard before.  And the twins sleepovers, keeping alert that one of the kids might know something "dirty" and spread the knowledge to their little friends.  Now I’ve got all that AND a six year old looking for my butter knives so she can pretend to hack up La’s Barbies?  Wow.

Laura finally gave in to her gentler nature and crawled into my bed and curled up next to me.  She said she didn’t like sleepovers any more.  I was so sad for her.  She’d looked forward to this treat for weeks, been so excited to have these girls over and play.  Only they didn’t want to play ponies and dress-up, watch Barbie movies and act them out with her, didn’t want to color or play with the paints and the butcher paper.  They wanted mayhem and scary stuff.  And what saddened me the most is that Laura, instead of sticking to her *self* came around and sided with the majority and went along for the most part.  She even told me after Heidi left that she (Heidi) was a baby.  After 3 hours of playing happily with H doing all the stuff La always loves to do.  Just because the kids in her grade, her class, two against one were more aggressive.

That worries the crap out of me.  Laura doesn’t back down to anyone around here except me, even Daddy.  I know peers are an entirely different story *later*, but NOW????  In kindergarten???  If someone like Laura isn’t capable or willing to stand up for herself what chance do the Heidi’s of this world have?   What do I do about Laura?! 

And poor Krysta and Skyler.  Five and six years old and that’s what they’re interested in?  I *know* both these children’s families.  I wouldn’t have had them over to play with Laura if I didn’t.  Granted, Sky’s Mommy isn’t the greatest in the world, but she tries, and tries hard.  Where Krysta is coming up with this stuff just astounds me though.  There were some other things she said and did, wanted to play that just boggled my mind.  And I thought I couldn’t be boggled any more.

On the up side, Libby’s 14th birthday is Saturday.  She’s bouncing off the walls excited.  Another sleepover to look forward to, AND her first "My boyfriend is coming over to dinner" occasion.  My birthday is next week, but I am ignoring that as much as possible.  It falls during Fall Break for the kids, so I’ll too busy having a nervous breakdown to remember probably.

Oh!  And good news for everyone else, bad news for Emily, sort of…she finally broke up with Jeremy after two long years.  She says she’s been fed up with him for a while, but she’s not addressing the "I’m single" issues yet, and that bothers me a little.  She’s thrown herself full-blown into talking to 2 or 3 guys already, which is making me nuts, but I can’t stop that girl from being who she is, I’ve already learned that lesson the hard way.  At least Jeremy’s gone.  That is a huge relief.

*Laugh*  I just realized I’ve just written another Downer Post.   Heck.  Next week is Fall Break.  I’m sure there will be giggles in that one.

Blessings!

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Letter to HER Thursday April 24, 2008

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
10 comments
Dear Fertility Goddess,
Hello again, it’s been awhile now, hasn’t it?  Almost five years.  Please let me begin by thanking you for your gift of the six healthy, intelligent, talented beautiful daughters you’ve given me.  I cannot tell you what a blessing they all are in their own special, individual ways.  My life would not be complete without them.  You are a most benificent and giving creature, and I am most blessed.
 
Thank you also for not bestowing your most momentous gifts upon my oldest two daughters yet.  While I realize I was already twice gifted by the time I was Becca’s age, I assure you, my darling daughters and I are most grateful you have decided in your infinite wisdom to wait on showing them you bountiful nature.  Also, may I bow and show all my gratitude for your not visiting upon my teenagers.  Thank you, thank you.  I am well aware how much you love my family, as evidenced by the plentitude of cousins I have on both sides of my family.
 
Now we come to the meat of my reason for this epistle:  I had a visit with my gynecologist today, Fertility Goddess.  I’d been having a few problems and thought I needed a little checking out so I could be told all was well and that I was turning into a hypochondriac.  That isn’t what happened.  Instead, in the middle of the exam, the GYN suddenly told me my uterus felt like it had boulders in it, that I had fibroids and she promptly sent me off for blood tests and signed me up for a pelvic ultrasound and a mammogram.  Luckily, the mammogram is just because I’ve hit the 40’s and that’s when you’re supposed to get your first, but the rest is just frightening!
 
We’ve had a long, fruitful and loving relationship, Fertility Goddess.  I’ve always admired and respected you.  I’d like to keep all the organs that have helped you do your job inside me, in good condition as long as possible.  I hope you want that too.  Please do what you can to help.  Thank you.

La’s Visit to the Doc, Part II, and why kids shouldn’t see Peanut Friday April 11, 2008

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
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If you haven’t read the post below yet, you don’t know I’d had QUITE the doc’s visit with Laura before she went to her first day of daycare on Thursday, but in all the swirl of my nutso thoughts of coochies and La finally being a big girl and having friends I forgot how she traumatized me before we ever got into the back area of the doctor’s office.

I’ve mentioned many time we live deep in Amish country here (oh great, now I’m wondering what they call girl parts…I know they don’t call ’em coochies!), Sorry…the xanax just takes my mind where it wants lately…
Anyway…I’m sitting there with La in the outer waiting room in an outer seat, La’s in the middle and in walks an elderly Amish lady to come sit beside the Demon.  Oh great, I’m thinking…because anything can come out of that kid’s mouth at anytime.  But no, today she’s being sweet and cute and an utterly adorable 4 year old and the older Amish lady is actually smiling at La’s antics.

Now, I don’t know who is familiar with the comedian Jeff Dunham;  he’s a puppeteer guy, really funny-we just love Peanut and Achmed the Dead Terrorist.  Becca bought herself the DVD for her birthday and brought it over for the week and we’d watched it while La was catching up on Aladdin and Jasmine’s latest adventures.  Except…then she saw the box and demanded to see the DVD too.

Cough, choke, gasp….ummm…what harm could it do, right?  She wouldn’t get the sexual content, Peanut is very amusing and lively, and as long as we could skip Achmed, it’d all be good.  (Remember, La imitates movie quotes and I did NOT want her going to school telling her teacher or friends in that high-pitched voice "I KEEL YOU!")
So I told the kids they could let her see Peanut and THAT IS IT.

Why am I always wrong???

Watch the video, about halfway through you’ll see it and then I’ll tell you what she did to me and the Amish lady…

Yeah, Peanut’s a hoot, isn’t he?   We love him.  Laura loved him.
So we’re sitting and waiting for La’s name to be called and I rubbed my nose.  Out of nowhere, I hear her screech out "What the HELL was that?!"  You just PICKED YOUR NOSEOH MY GOD!  YOU DID!  You! JUST! PICKED YOUR  NOOOOOSEEEE!!!!"   And she bent her head in that unnatural angle so she could look straight up my nose and said "EWWWW, you didn’t even get it all!"

Amish Lady did not find La so amusing after that.  I considered following her when she got up to move and begging the lady to take the child to raise, but knew that was an exercise in futility.  So I just gave the kid the Death Glare, told her to stop being Peanut and never EVER say hell again.

Then we went back thankfully to the doctor’s room and she found out what her dinah was really called here.
*SIGH*

Stressful 24 hours Wednesday March 19, 2008

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
17 comments
It started with the mail yesterday afternoon.  Some strange envelope from Canada…"why, Sis must have written to me…goody!" I think.
 
No.  It’s a letter informing me I’ve won 3rd prize in a sweepstakes I entered, and I’ve netted meself $225,000 and some change.  Yeah.  Wow.  Fun thought.  There’s even a cool little check in the envelope for $2,375.00.  A "real" check.  Instructions to go cash the check…and here’s the funny part:  Send $1950.00 back to the sweepstakes people for taxes.
 
Uh huh.  First flag goes up.
 
Now, I’ve won sweepstakes before.  I’ve managed to make over $400.00 from MSN alone entering the Spaces contests they have occasionally.  I’ve won free stuff galore, won $50.00 here and there…so the idea that I *could* have won a big bundle…yeah, maybe.  But it all sounds hinky.  So I call the number I’ve been given, and I’m told I don’t have to take the check to a bank, I can cash it at a check-cashing place, send the "tax money" and then call them back and they’ll send off my big fortune.
 
Uh huh.  Second flag goes up.
 
So I do what I always do.  I call my Mommy, who starts screeching about scam stories she’s seen on GMA.  I call Sis, since this is a Canadian company doing an "international promotion" and Sis can’t find the address for the company.  Huh.  AND she finds out from the Canadian Royal Police there have been a rash of this type of fraudulent scams lately there.
 
Ah well….it was fun as all get-out to play with the idea of having a quarter million dollars handed to you.  Heck, if old people in Middleton, Suburbia can win the lottery, why couldn’t I win some mucho mulah?  I’d decided to pay off my parents mortgage, take the kids to Disneyland, and of course set up some sort of fund for later for the kids and Mike and I.  It was fun thinking about it, but I never pictured in my head actually doing it, you know?  Well, honestly, I did fantasize some about paying off my parents mortgage…my poor Mom works so hard and they’re having a really tough time.  It’d thrill me to no end to do that for them.
 
Ah well…time to play my dollar Powerball ticket, huh?
 
Oh, turned the check and the letter and stuff over to the local police and called the FBI about it.   I hope they catch this bastardo…this exact kind of scheme has ripped some people off for tens of thousands of dollars.
 
And then today…*SIGH*
 
My mother used to smack me in the face whenever I said something she didn’t like, or just didn’t feel like spanking me.  It was the most humiliating, degrading thing she ever did- I hated it so much worse to be slapped once in the face than to take a beating with the belt.  That’s probably why she used that one on me so often, because it hurt so much…she just thought the tears were from the pain of the slap, not the humiliation. 
 
So there’s always been a policy in our household that fighting will be barely tolerated, physically, I mean…but face-slapping is a "Boy, have you crossed the line, Kid!" offense.  The girls have been told how often men use this as a tool against women to subjugate them, how I felt as a kid being slapped, what a humiliating, horrid thing I find it.
 
I get a call this morning from Emmy.  She’s slapped Katie in the face *in school…in the hallway…in the middle of class change* because Katie made fun of one of her grades.  Gee, turns out Emmy started the fight about the grades, Katie just retaliated…Em got pissed and hauled off and belted her one.
 
I’m at a loss.  I’m so furious I can’t even stand it.  I’m sick to my stomach for what Katie must have felt.  I’m just…totalled by the entire incident.  We let Katie pick the repercussions Emily would face for her actions, and Katie grounded her for 3 days.  THEN Emily kept making nasty remarks and ended up grounded for another day, kept from a sleepover she really wanted to attend AND sent to bed w/out dinner.  I haven’t sent a child to bed w/out dinner since 1987.  But, I haven’t had a child say "Why don’t you just STARVE me?!" because they didn’t like what I was making for dinner, either.
 
I have had it way too easy with Jess, Becca and Katie.  NOW I’m finding out what all the fuss about ‘raising a teenager’ is all about.
 
It’s sad and ugly and exhausting.

THAT was a whoopin! Tuesday March 11, 2008

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
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Well, this is the last year I don’t get my flu shot…that’s for sure.  I had no idea the monster virus was so evil; I swear I’ve never felt that miserable ever before when I wasn’t under a morphine injection machine.  It probably didn’t help that the fever raged pretty high and brought on migraines too, of course:  or that I got up before I should have and tried to be Mommy Homemaker and Office Manager.  Thus, the bronchial pneumonia.  Yippee, what a grand 3 weeks it’s been.
 
I’m still alive and kicking, though only aiming at shins right now.  Hopefully I’ll be up to full-speed by the end of the week and feel like visiting and catching up to everyone.  I miss like mad not knowing what’s going on with everyone…funny how even in the throes of a fever and coughing spasms I still think so often of everyone who comes to visit me here and that I’m so accustomed to checking in on every few days. 
 
Lovin’ you all, thank you for the get-well-soons!
Thanks sis for covering for me…when I get my voice back I’ll give you a call, promise!

Oh, THAT sounds like FUN! Friday February 15, 2008

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
16 comments
It’s been wild getting this business up and going.  I’m having a ball learning the new computer system and All-in-one; it feels like my brain is actually learning to work again – Hurrah!  Vista is not that bad, after you get inside and teach it to stop popping things up at you every 3 seconds, that is.  Now the big challenge is Quickbooks.  I’m skeered.  The truck the Mario Brothers bought is ugly, but runs great and has all the bells and whistles they needed, so that’s good, we’re up and have the ads running on the net now, so all that’s left is for me to get my act together and decide for sure whether to go to the trouble of dealing with a webpage and harassing Solaria into building one for us.  We’re weighing whether we need one or not yet right now.

The doctor visit was ummm…well…let’s just say I got some heartening answers.  He says cancer is way down on his list of possibles on what could be going on.  He reeled off lots of other lovely diseases he thought were more probable *giggle* and that were medically treatable, and I’ve researched them all based on my symptoms and pretty much think I’m got Ulcerative Colitis.  Now, will I be surprised if it’s something different?  No, my body always comes up with fun new ways to surprise me, but I’m betting on this one, it just makes sense.  AND-it’s medicinally treatable – YAY!  So, the 20th I go into the hospital for the double tubing.  Heh heh heh.  Yeah.  Not JUST the colonoscopy, not me, heck no.  Let’s check that pesky darn esophageal ulcer too while we’ve got Lynn knocked out.  I talked to Sis on the phone and we joked about making sure there were TWO tubes, and insisting on them doing the throat tube test FIRST.  It’s good to be able to laugh about the process.  Mike’s taking the morning off to be there, Becca’s trying to get the rest of the day off to take over the house so I can rest up afterwards and not have to deal with the kid or dinner.  I’m gonna milk this one for all it’s worth. 😉

Jack and Jessica are madly in love.  It’s kinda creepy to hear her baby talk to him the way she does on the phone, but I know that attention-mad pup is just eating it up, and she’s been lonely in her apartment…she’d always had roommates before this place.  Jack and his next-door neighbor puppy are the best of friends now and whine at each other’s door every time one of them goes out, begging to play.  It’s turned into a wonderful situation for the girl and her dog.  I’m so so happy for them.

Life is busy, full.  The girls have so much going on; drama, school, projects, boyfriends, growing pains.  My insecurities about Mike leaving me out of the business was insanity, I’d forgotten how much he depends on me for so much…heck, I found the truck for them.  My brain feels like it’s finally being used again after so long just doing it’s work in Safe Mode. 

Do I worry about what’s going to happen next week?  Yeah, I have my moments.  But, I figure, whatever it is, it’s a problem to be solved, right?  It’s something that needs to be fixed, so we’ll find out what’s wrong, and deal with it.  That’s what I do, baby! =)

What do you want first? Sunday February 10, 2008

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
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This is one of those Good, Bad and Ehhhh…. Entries.   Let’s do the Good First, it all happened first.

My iron and folic acid supplements seem to be helping a little; I’m a bit less dizzy unless I’m getting up – meaning I’m not dizzy all the ding-dang time now, just when I get up from sitting or being down.  So that’s a good

Laura’s finger is healing up nicely.  Definitely a good!

The girls all came home with great progress reports for their halfway through the nine-week grading period!  That meant no fussing, grounding or defending in loud, grievous tones!  Hallelujah!  I hate screechy girl voice.

No concussions!   Definitely a GOOD thing!

Mike and I got the business officially started sorta this week.  We go for the city/state business license tomorrow, opened up the bank accounts already, and bought the fax machine (HP all-in-one 5610), computer ( HP desktop), all the files, folders, bells, whistles and buttons I could possibly need to drive myself crazy learning to deal with for the next little while.  Most assuredly a good thing.  We’re very excited.  Mike and Russell are truck shopping today and Monday.  I’ll be reading my Quickbooks for Dummies and Tax Power for the Self-Employed books between learning how to work my new fax machine. 

The Ehhhhh….

Jess moved last month into a new apartment in an area of town I am NOT comfortable with at all.  It’s close to her work and college and since she doesn’t drive, that’s better for her, and she loves the little place, but it makes me tense just the same.  Her neighbor/best friend Katie has a new puppy that Jess sits for while Katie is at work ( does EVERYONE name one of their kids Katie in KY, I wonder????) and mentioned on the phone this week that now she really wants a dog.  I blurted out, "You can have Jack."  I was thinking about the size of him, how he’d protect her, she’d be safer and how we’d still get to see him whenever she came to stay the night here and we went to visit there.  And Boom! she jumped on the chance.  We talked for a while about the size of him and how he’d cope in her smaller space, I had to make sure he’d get plenty of exercise – but then she’s a walking freak and I know that won’t be a problem, and he IS a good watch dog.  He already loves her from her many visits here. 

So I talked to Emmy and Katie about it since Jack was one of their birthday presents, and Katie was fine with it immediately, she really didn’t like Jack biting La, and it just so happened that Jack had scratched Emmy’s face that day and left a mark, so Em reluctantly agreed too since it was Jess he was going to and we’d still get to see him.  We all feel better knowing Jess has Jack for protection now and we know she’ll take great care of him.  Now the brats want a cat.  We took Jack over to Jess’ yesterday and La had a hard time saying goodbye.  I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before she gets over this.  I miss him too.  It is weird not seeing him in his spot by the shoe box, snoozing.  But it felt like the right thing to do….like it was meant to be this way.

Now the dang bad.

I’m an idjit.  With all the planning ahead I did, it never occurred to me I was going to need another DSL line when we had two computers.  So I can’t set up the new computer until I get the cable guys in here to put another line in the kid’s room for THIS one, cause they are never going to be allowed to touch the business system for anything at any time for any reason, ever.  So I’m frustrated because I’ve got all these beautiful boxes full of stuff I could be playing with that I can’t open until I get another line run.  That’s BAD.

Doc’s office called yesterday just as we were starting out for the trip to the stores to pick up all the office equipment.  The lab tests came back positive.  I was not prepared for that one at all.  I’ve been sent for so many stupid tests, and I’ve always assumed something would show up on those…they all made sense.  This one I never dreamed about.  So here I am, stunned stupid and in shock at this test I blew off and laughed over…positive.  There’s not one stinking positive thing about it.  Luckily, I already had an appointment with the gastroenterologist for this Wednesday, so at least I don’t have to wait weeks to get in and make the appointment for the colonoscopy.  I just get to hear all the things it could or couldn’t be.  I made a frantic call to my Mommy, because that’s what I always do, and it turns out she had the same thing happen to her and it turned out to just be some polyps that they didn’t even bother to burn off they were so inconsequential….See?  My Mommy always manages to make me feel better.  So that’s what I’m holding on to.  It’s not going to be a big thing

And you know what?  Even if it is cancer?  I’ve been there, done that.  I beat it.  I’ve had my brain blow up on me and beat that.  I’ve raised two teenage daughters to adulthood who are magnificent examples of what citizens of this world should be, and I’m halfway there with my second batch of teens.  I can do this too.

And Ashley, if you read this one….DO NOT TELL JESS.  I’ll tell her after I’ve talked to the gastro guy and have a better sense of what’s going on.  I MEAN IT.  You are not too old for me to spank your ass.  And I know where you live.  I love you, girl.  Call me.

Love to you all. Blessings.  Notice how there were so many more GOOD than Bad?

Week in Review Monday February 4, 2008

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
20 comments
Let’s see…I’ll try to do this in chronological order, but when your memory sucks, heh…sometimes it works, sometimes it don’t.

Still waiting for Jess ( the manager at Walgre*ns PHOTO LAB dept.) to send me my Party Night photos.  I’ve e-mailed her and informed her she’s now grounded until she gets them to me.  No phone, no friends over, no partying until Mommy has her pics.  We’ll see if that gets the procrastinating brat to move her tushy along any.

Jack, our boisterous, huge, six month old black lab, knocked me down the basement stairs Tuesday.  I landed on my head of course and now have concussion #2 in two weeks.  My doc mentioned something about bubble wrap and space suits, but I might have imagined that.

While going back to the docs to recheck said head and get scrip for chest cold, discovered blood count was very low…7.8 low, as opposed to 12-14 normal.  Oh.  That would explain dizziness, falling down and exhaustion, huh?  Yes, yes it would.  Now on iron and folic acid that apparently I’m in short supply of.  Lovely.  At least now I can lie down under 5 blankets and give people the finger when they think to question what I’m NOT doing mopping the floor.

SAAM, you’ll love this:  Reason for low blood count must be internal of course.  WHY oh WHY is it always predicted something dire and then ends up being nothing with me?  So, I have to give stool sample smears.  They give me little packets and sticks, tell me to bring little packets back with ummm….smears on the packets.  I doo-doo and then do (bring back packet), and I get a call 4 hours later telling me I’ve smeared the wrong SIDE.  "WHAT?" 

Yeah.  They don’t MARK which side to smear, but apparently one side the patient smears, then the lab tech opens that side smears the smear and rubs said smear onto the other side.  Oh jeez.  So now I gotta do it all again.  Oh, the indignity.  All to prove I’m not bleeding in my stool, it’s blood from my esophogeal ulcer that I’m losing because I’m still throwing up during the week.

ARGH.

Super Bowl Night–
I’ve made the snacks.  I’ve settled Lala in with her new toy and a movie so’s she won’t worry Mommy, Daddy and Uncle Russell to death while we root for the NY Giants.  Mike is a fervent Indy Colts fan, and by George, if Peyton can’t win it again, then Eli should.  It’s 5:07, the Awards are beginning to be given out, and I hear La shout "NO!"   Then I hear her scream bloody murder, followed by the "Moooommmmbbaaaaaa!"  wail of distress.  I go running, meet her in the hall, and she’s clutching one of her hands in the other. 
Jack has bitten her again.  I scoop her up, take her running into my room to try to calm her down so she’ll let me see the wound, in come the twins to tell me Jack was munching his bone, La thought he had one of her toys, she put her hand in his mouth to get the toy out and Jack bit her.  This same scenario has happened a hundred times before.  Except this time he’s drawn blood.  Lots of blood.  Blood pumping out of the tip of her finger.  We wrapped it in a cloth and ice, tried to calm her down so her heart rate would go down and the bleeding would slow and after 45 minutes she fell into a fitful sleep.  Then I had to calm down.  I’m one of those excellent in an emergency, fall apart after, sort. 

So now we’re debating what to do about Jack.  He’s only six mos old.  He doesn’t even HAVE his adult teeth yet.  He’s a boisterous, normal, chew everything in sight puppy.  He’s good with La, especially considering how she’s a roughneck herself.  We are on her constantly about putting her hands in his mouth.  He’s never hurt her before.  There’s his size, too.  He already knocks all of us down when he comes running in or out, he’s up to everyone’s mid-thigh and still growing fast, he stands up to La’s neck now.  He knocked me down the stairs – it’s only blind luck that I came to quickly enough and didn’t break a limb and managed to get back up to call Mike…I was here alone with Lala then. 

But then, the girls love him.  They don’t take care of him, of course.  They just want a pet.  I’ve spent 5 months training him.  I’m told in a year, he’ll start settling down.  A year is a LONG time.  I’ve thought about a muzzle.  I’ve thought about making him an outside dog…but he’s a FAMILY-centric dog, I think it’d break his heart to be left out all day and night.  I know a family who’ve begged me to sell him to them once already who have labs.  But…he’s our Jack.  I don’t want to break Emmy’s heart.  I don’t want to get anyone else hurt because Jack is just being Jack, either.  I don’t EVER want another hour like I spent watching La’s finger spurt blood all over both our clothes again while she screams in pain and terror.  But then, she’s danger Mouse.  Those hours are going to come, and I might as well face that.  I don’t know what to do.

I hope the rest of my week goes better.

Blessings.

My Brain Hurts Friday January 25, 2008

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
7 comments
Literally.  Figuratively.  Subjectively.  Imaginately.  If there’s a way for it to hurt, it does.  Heck, even my hair hurts – I’ve got split ends I didn’t have 4 days ago.
 
Thanks to that darn La and fax machines.
 
La likes to get rowdy (-y +ier) in the evenings after Daddy gets home, especially if he is sitting anywhere near me.  For some reason, her favorite game is climb up Daddy’s back like a spider monkey, perch on his shoulders and LAUNCH! herself onto me.  It’s not OUR favorite game, but when has that ever mattered to a 4 year old anywhere, let alone someone like the La-less?  So, she’s playing Spider Monkey LAUNCH the other night when she LAUNCHES! just a little too hard, overshoots my arm and kicks me dead in the head, on the side I’ve had all that lovely surgical work done already.  I see stars and birdies…then I see nothing.  Next thing I know, Mike is shaking me, my finger hurts because my teeth are wrapped around it and I’ve apparently had a seizure.  And yep, it turns out it’s a concussion too. 
 
I love my youngest, I do, I do.
 
So I’ve spent the past couple days a bit wobbly and headachy – dizzy, thy name is Lynn.  The show must go on, regardless of the condition of the players, of course, so I’ve tried to carry on my work as best as I can, and luckily, one thing I can do is SIT DOWN and shop around for fax machines online.
 
Turns out after a Federal ID number and liability insurance (check and check), that’s the next thing we need to start up our business venture.  So I’ve spent this week looking everywhere online at all these different fax machines, pricing them, comparing, reading customer reviews, studying consumer reports, trying to decide if I want an all-in-one or just a fax/copier…
I’ve decided I have no damn idea.  I’m lost in a sea of possibilities.  My genius brother the IT guy says the HP 6310.  But the HP’s drink ink and it might be more machine than we need as mostly what we’ll be doing is faxing.  My parents have a simple Panasonic, but I’ve read the paper jams on those.  I like the Brother, but can’t find many customer reviews on those.
 
Help me.  I’m melting, I’m melting!!!
 
What’re you using?  What’re the pros and cons?  How long have you had it?  Is it a GOOD, FAST fax?  Does it drink ink?  Is that even what I need to worry about most?
 
I’ll visit everyone as soon as my head heals and I can stay online longer than half an hour at a time without needing a nappy, I promise!
 
Blessings!

Sleeping Awake Thursday October 11, 2007

Posted by gingerbreadman in Ain't THAT a whoopin'?!.
13 comments
I had an affair. 
 A mad-dash, wildly vivid, heart-wrenching, chest-pounding, passionate, romantic, sad, mad affair with a man who wooed me as I’ve never been wooed before.  I was swept off my feet away from the humdrum, dull life off a housewife and mommy and turned into a vibrant, sexy, lively, beautiful woman who was fire, ice, laughter and sunshine and ageless time to him.  We talked every day, we built dreams and fantasies around our someday ideas…
 
Our talks were the talks all lovers have I suppose; our admiration for each other, how our friendship blossomed into more, then into ‘it’, how the friendly, laughing, "I love you" said one day meant something more to one of us than the other, the held breath and quiet silence and kept secret while we waited for the other to finally figure out what those three words really meant…the excitement and fear when the realization came and the feeling was found to be shared.  How the talks turned from goofin’ on each other at times and politics and complaints about our respective mates to wishes for closer distance and more time, the need to touch more and talk less, the longing to be together, the crazy fantasy to take a trip together, leaving all responsibility behind.
 
It’s funny how during this dream of mine…did I forget to mention this was all a very strong dream I had?…one of those dreams that is so colorful and vivid that when you wake up you believe you’ve started dreaming now and the dream is your reality?  In my dream my children were periphereal really, I thought of them and mentioned them to my lover of course; and was assured that of course he loved me enough to love my kids….he’d be happy to adapt to a houseful of girls.  And in my dream-state I smiled and bought that line somehow, or shrugged it off, perhaps not even believing that dream within a dream, knowing that even some things are too unbelevable for a fantasy-dream of an invalid agoraphobic housewife to dream up.  I dismissed my adoring husband, who has worked himself to death to care for me and our girls through all my ailments to gaze with longing on a dream-man who had nothing really for me but pretty words and lots of silly fantasies but no real substance. 
 
The reality of me finally woke me up, that’s the irony of it all.  I was deep into my dream, probably snoring my ass off, when my illness interfered with something dream-man and I had planned, and the lover backed away.  Leave it to me, Blunt, Honest-With-Lynn-Anyway, me to insert reality into a lovely fantasy in which I’d escaped the drudgery of illness, a cranky overworked husband, lots of hormonal teens, a willful toddler so’s I could screw up a trip to Vegas with a man who flattered me endlessly with such pretty, pretty words and love.
 
I woke up crying.  I still am.  I don’t know when I’ll stop inside.  I’ve shattered my romantic notions that I’ll ever have more than what I have now for good and all.
 
BUT.
 
I’ve never watched Desperate Housewives.  Just the title alone put me off, to begin with, and then the previews to the show?  A bunch of hot, skinny broads running around whining about their petty problems, chasing men that don’t belong to them?  What’s housewifey about that???
Being a housewife is cleaning when you don’t feel like it, and even more when company is coming, cooking the same stupid meal for twenty years because the husband and kids love it, even if you got tired of it eighteen years ago.  Budgeting so you can buy fall and spring clothes for the kids while you wear the same clothes for five years in the row.  Loving the same man for 40 years, and being loved, even when you don’t like him, because you said so, and because youknow if you stick it out when you find it hard, he’ll charm you again, if you let him.  It’s laughing when your kid does something stupid and harmless and finding a way to be wise and strong when they do something dangerous.  It’s holding on and hanging on and laughing and crying and biting your lip and just doing it again the next morning.
 
And when your heart gets broken, you cry, you listen to some music and pour your heart out, then you suck it the hell up and go clean the cabinets.  Even if your heart was only broken in a stupid dream.