Sunday, December 31, 2006

Fodder for One More Therapy Session

For the past several years we have battled Drama Queen to go to the movies with us. She never, ever, ever wants to go, which can be a big pain in the rear. No matter how many times I've asked her, she never has given me a reason for why she doesn't want to go. At one point she led me to believe that it was because she was afraid she would have to sit by someone she didn't know. I thought I had the problem solved by always offering to let her sit between us. No dice. She still threw a fit whenever we mentioned going to see a movie.

Friday night we went to a birthday party, part of which was going to see A Night at the Museum. The Hubster declared himself to be tired of being sent home to stay with DQ while we went and had all the fun, so he made the decision that they were going with us. This was of course met with weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Once the movie was over, heaven opened and a ray of sunlight shone on me as DQ decided to finally reveal the reason for her aversion to movie theaters. The child is scared to go because she's afraid someone will throw up on her head. She also gets hot while in the theater, a by-product of worrying that someone will regurgitate on her noggin'. Getting hot then makes her think that she, herself, is going to become sick and puke. See the endless cycle, all related to vomit? When I asked her why she thought someone would throw up on her head, she had a valid reason: they might eat too much. How can you argue with that?

I'm thinking a therapy fund might be in order.

Posted @ 5:32 PM ~ 10 comments

Post a Comment

Friday, December 29, 2006

Happy Holidays!

Since I missed wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, I just wanted to take a second to tell you all that I hope you have a great New Year's Eve celebration, whatever and wherever that may be. Please be careful if you are going to be out and about that evening.



I don't make New Year's Resolutions anymore. I have goals, but not set-in-stone resolutions. I'm still thinking about what I hope to accomplish this next year. What about you?





powered by performancing firefox


Posted @ 10:19 PM ~ 7 comments

Post a Comment

Monday, December 18, 2006

Tears

This weekend was my first experience in caring for someone with Alzheimers. I've been around several people with the disease, but I have never had to actually take part in caring for them. The Hubster's parents had a Christmas party Saturday night and needed someone to stay with his grandmother while they were gone.

The evening was progressing smoothly until it was just the two of us in the living room. She sat up straight in the recliner and started trying to get up. When I asked her what was wrong or what she needed, she told me, "To go home." Home to her is her childhood home, with her parents. Apparently she had told my MIL several times that day that she needed to go home because she hadn't told anybody she was leaving.

When it was time for her to go to bed, I had to take her to the bathroom. She was doing okay at first, but then I had to remind her to pull down her panties. When we got to the sink to wash her hands, I gave her a pump of soap, but she didn't know what to do. I told her to rub it in, so she started rubbing the soap onto the dispenser. I thought maybe she was trying to get more soap, so I gave her another pump of soap. She continued to rub it onto the dispenser and then finally started washing her hands with it.

Changing clothes meant undressing her and putting her pajamas on for her. Once she was in bed, I tucked her in and kissed her goodnight (feeling like I was tucking in one of my children). As soon as I walked out of the room, I started to worry she was too close to the edge and would fall out of bed, so I went back in and had her scoot over.

I'm not sure how long the whole bedtime routine took, but it felt like an hour. In all reality, it was probably only 10 minutes. As soon as I had her tucked in, I headed into the living room for a good cry. I was just devestated by what the disease has done to her. She literally has to be treated like a child, being told what to do every step of the way. She's not even related to me by blood, but I was so upset by her condition. I cannot imagine what I would feel like if it was one of my own parents. I'm praying I'll never know.

Posted @ 12:02 PM ~ 10 comments

Post a Comment

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Wiped Out

Karate Kid and The Hubster went to a Boy Scout lock-in last night. K.K. asked me yesterday if he could stay up all night. He was incredulous when I told him it was okay, but he quickly wanted to make sure that I also wouldn't tell him he had to take a nap or go to bed early. I told him I wouldn't make him, but that he would probably want to on his own.

As I was working on the computer this morning, K.K. was down in the floor playing with the dog. It got suspiciously quiet, so I turned around and found him like this:



Not to be outdone, those are The Hubster's feet up on the couch, where he had already been snoring away for quite some time.

Posted @ 11:25 AM ~ 3 comments

Post a Comment

Friday, December 15, 2006

Missing Out

Here is a conversation between Karate Kid and I last night. For those of you who only have girls, this is one conversation you'll never have--at least I hope.

KK: (as I was walking out of his room from tucking him in) Mom, turn the light on a second and look at this.
Me: Is it snot?
KK: No.
Me: Is it a lugie?
KK: No.
Me: Is it ear wax?
KK: No.
Me: Is it anything out of your throat or mouth?
KK: No.
Me: Okay, I'll look (It wasn't until this point that I even turned on the light, fearing that I would be subjected to an unwanted surprise).

See what you're missing? I bet you all want to run right out and borrow the neighbor's son for a good heart-to-heart, don't you?

Posted @ 2:19 PM ~ 5 comments

Post a Comment

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Little Angels

I was in the worst mood yesterday, a combination of PMS and 7 children who must have been bitten by a rabid skunk. Sing it with me: twelve time-outs, eleven pushing children, ten temper tantrums, nine boxing matches, eight screaming sessions, seven crying children, six shin kickings, fiiiiiiive breakdowns. Four deep scratches, three hair pullings, two biting boys, and a partridge in a pear tree.

To top it all off, I had to buy presents for all of my children's teachers and then stay up until midnight writing letters to all of them. 'Cause apparently it wouldn't be Christmas if I didn't wait until the night before the school parties to take care of all of this. Every. single. year.

In between buying the gifts and writing the letters, I remembered a project our family was going to do. I fixed two Christmas trays with some cookies and things I had made, put an angel on each that Drama Queen colored and attached this note (not my original idea or poem):

The Christmas Angel has come to town,
To leave you some goodies, I see you have found.

If you wish to spread some of this good cheer,
Continue this greeting, 'cause Christmas is near.

First post the "Angel" where all can see,
And leave it there until Christmas Eve.

Then make 2 treats, with 2 notes like this,
Deliver to 2 neighbors who the Angel has missed.

You have only two days to leave a treat.
Ring the doorbell and run -- be fast on your feet.

Let's share in the spirit of friendship and love,
That's what Christmas is really made of.

We picked two neighbor families we wanted to treat and headed out. The first family wasn't home so we headed to a different one. The kids put the plate on the porch, rang the doorbell and ran to where The Hubster and I were hiding beside their fence. Nobody answered so we sent them back with a new strategy, a combo of door ringing and knocking. Still no answer. Since we have so many cats and dogs roaming the neighborhood, we decided the wise thing to do was remove the goodies and treat someone else.

As we were sneaking to the other neighbors we had planned to treat, the guy across the street came out. Apparently four people slinking through the dark at 9:00 (yes, I know it was late) is a little alarming. He was a good neighbor and watched us the whole time. Our treated neighbor came out and asked if the other man was the one who left the tray. He very quickly pointed out our hiding place on the side of the house. We stopped and chatted for a few minutes and then headed on to try to find someone else home.

It was a bust at another house, probably because they couldn't see anything when they looked out the peephole. We finally decided our next-door neighbors would enjoy being treated. I got smart on this one and set one of their outdoor chairs on the porch and put the tray on it. Digression: We secretly call this family the Griswolds because of their love of Christmas decorations. We sometimes worry that the planes may mistake them for the airport. So when we rang the doorbell and ran, it was like jumping hurdles and running an obstacle course all rolled into one.

But you know what happened to my mood by the time we were home? It did a complete turnaround. All the secrecy, giggling, running and hiding made me completely forget about all the things that had gone wrong that day and helped me focus on doing something nice for someone else. And we found out today that the first set we treated passed it along by treating two more neighbors today. How fun is that?

Posted @ 9:30 PM ~ 2 comments

Post a Comment

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Six (More) Weird Things About Me

I was tagged by Kelly at Pass the Torch for this meme. Since I seem to have a never-ending supply of weirdness, here are 6 more:

1. I can't stand for my feet to be touched or to touch anyone else's feet.

2. I hate decorating for any holiday besides Christmas.

3. I went to the tanning salon two weeks ago, the first time I've gone since a very short-lived stint in high school. I had an anxiety attack while I was there this time and had to call my sister to calm me down (skin cancer, claustrophobia, "nuking" myself, etc.)

4. I hate sending Christmas cards. I sent them the first year we were married and have refused to do it since then.

5. I call The Hubster "Daddy" instead of using his real name 99% of the time. I started calling him that when we got our dog, two years before our first child was born.

6. This one falls into the TMI category. If you don't want to know, stop reading here!

Every single time I go to the library, I have to, um, go potty. And not #1. Dollar Tree has the same effect on me.

Aren't you glad I shared?

Posted @ 3:58 PM ~ 6 comments

Post a Comment

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Still Here

I haven't dropped off the face of the earth. I've been busy enjoying my Christmas season (and shopping for my cruise--*squeal*). I'll try to post in the next couple of days. I'll also be dropping in to say hi when I get the chance.

Hugs to you all!

Posted @ 8:03 PM ~ 3 comments

Post a Comment

Friday, December 08, 2006

MeMe

I'm too tired to come up with anything today, so I decided to do the Meme I saw over at What's On My Mind.

This is a one-word association meme.

Yourself: Tired
Your partner: Hunting
Your hair: Short
Your Mother: Patient
Your Father: Jokester
Your Favorite Item: Books
Your dream last night: many
Your Favorite Drink: coffee
Your Dream Car: ???
Your Dream Home: Big
The Room You Are In: living
Your Ex: boyfriend
Your fear: lice
Where you Want to be in Ten Years: here
Who you hung out with last night: friend
What You are Not: patient
Muffins: no
One of Your Wish List Items: quiet
Time: 12:30 p.m.
The Last Thing You Did: cooked
What You Are Wearing: jeans/T-shirt
Your favorite weather: mild
Your Favorite Book: all
Last thing you ate: okra
Your Life: great
Your mood: content
Your Best Friends: cherished
What are you thinking about right now: sleep
Your car: dirty
What are you doing at the moment: ignoring
Your summer: short
What is on your tv: nothing
What is the weather like: cold
When is the last time you laughed: today

Posted @ 12:22 PM ~ 4 comments

Post a Comment

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Grace in Action

Have you ever heard of Turf Toe? Me neither. When I hear that term I think of wet shower tiles in the locker room. Makes me think of jock itch and athlete's foot, neither of which I've had the pleasure of contracting. Apparently athletes get turf toe when they catch their foot on the astroturf. An athlete I am not, but I have turf toe. From my kitchen linoleum.

Yesterday morning one of the kiddos left a beaded necklace on the kitchen floor. As I turned around, I stepped on it and slid across the floor. I managed to catch myself with my other foot and kept from completely falling down. And then the pain. I have a hard time getting to the doctor during the day, so I headed to Urgent Care last night.

I began to feel very silly as I sat in the waiting room. The lady a couple of seats in front of me was moaning and about to hyperventilate as she doubled over. I would have thought she was in labor had she been bigger. Me thinks she should have gone to the ER instead of Urgent Care. A young girl who was in there sounded like she was coughing up the very bottom of her lungs. I was starting to be afraid to breathe. I found out later that she was having an asthma attack (bad for her, better for my health). The girl (an aquaintance) next to me seemed fine, but as I sat in the exam room waiting for the doc, I heard the nurses yelling at each other down the hallway that she had lice. Oh, my freakin' gosh! If you've read my blog for very long, you know that is one of my worst fears.

So here I am with the oh-so-fashionable walking boot/shoe type thing for the next 7-10 days. It's a lovely navy blue, so it should go great with everything I wear. Maybe I should get a bedazzler and fancy it up a little. Or puff paint! That would be even better, dontcha think? Gah.

And as Meg reminded me last night, I'm out of Saturday's game, sidelined by my injury. There go my hopes of playing in the bowl game in a few weeks. Dang.

Posted @ 11:53 AM ~ 7 comments

Post a Comment

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

How Do I Hate Thee?

Let me count the ways.

Remember when we got our puppy? She was so cute and cuddly--for about 5 minutes. And then she chewed and pottied and pooped ad nauseum. My love quickly turned to frustration. No toy has been safe in the house since her arrival. Neither has the Tivo cord, my shoes, my throw pillows and...

A few weeks ago the guys were gone on their monthly Boy Scout camping trip. I had the whole bed to myself--except for the dogs. I got into bed but immediately remembered something I had left in the bathroom. I got up, walked 5 feet to the bathroom, turned right back around to get in bed and promptly stuck my foot into the big pee spot at the foot of my bed. The next night: same song, second verse. She did the exact same thing. I couldn't go to sleep because I was plotting ways to get rid of the dog without my family knowing it was me.

I have begged, pleaded, threatened, cajoled and whatever else I thought would work to convince my family to get rid of her. No luck. I am sick to death of this dog! My "middle" dog is the one that drove me crazy until we got the puppy. Now the middle one is a walk in the park.

The puppy is now in heat. I spend my days chasing her around with doggy diapers or little girl panties with pads inserted into them. It takes two people approximately 7 minutes to get one on her and a total of 1.3 seconds for her to get it off. I was so sick of waking up to--ahem--dirty sheets, that I drug her carrier in from the snow drifts and put her in it. After listening to her bark all. night. long. she suddenly appeared at our bedroom door. She somehow managed to work her way out of the crate. Back she went, this time with the newly filled dog food container on top to weigh it down. This resulted in more barking and another Houdini escape.

I think this morning took the cake, though. I woke up and, for some reason, ran my hands through my hair before I got up out of bed. Can you imagine how excited (massive sarcasm here) I was to discover gum and the gum wrapper stuck in my hair?! The dog had apparently been up during the night and either found a stray piece of gum or dug a used one out of the trash. In either event, she kindly deposited it on my pillow when she was done.

If you see a black and tan Dachshund running down the street, it's probably mine. She answers to Sassy. I do NOT want her back! There is no reward unless you take her and promise to never return her to my humble abode again.

Posted @ 3:32 PM ~ 7 comments

Post a Comment

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Snow Fun

It is very rare that it snows enough in Oklahoma that we can go sledding. What is even more rare is that I break out of my warm and cozy cocoon to even go in the first place. It has been 7 years since we've been sledding. In keeping with my "slow down and enjoy the holidays" theme, I braved the cold so we could go have some family fun.

When we went 7 years ago, Drama Queen cried the whole time because she got snow in her face on the way down (the one and only time she went down) and got cold. Since she's so much older now, I figured she would have a blast. Heh. She went down a few times and then started crying because she was too light to get the sled to go as far at the bottom of the hill as the rest of us. Then she got cold. Same song, second verse.

I'm quickly coming to realize that all of the warm and fuzzy Christmas/family time memories are only perfect in the movies and Norman Rockwell paintings. But you know what? I'm having a blast making each and every memory, perfect or not.

Posted @ 4:50 PM ~ 6 comments

Post a Comment

Friday, December 01, 2006

First (and probably only) Snowfall of the Year









Posted @ 10:32 AM ~ 7 comments

Post a Comment