Two weeks ago Connie went to get her second opinion on the foot wound. This place was a sister clinic to the one where she had her hyperbaric treatments, and the doctor there was highly recommended by her favorite nurse. Connie wanted to go in without telling this doctor anything about her foot. He came into the cubicle without reading her chart. It went downhill from there.
The doctor wanted to know why Connie had peripheral neuropathy. When Connie told him she had been diagnosed years ago with heavy metals he began shooting out questions. Connie got defensive. She began giving him biting answers. He got defensive. Eventually he decided she needed tons of tests to determine why she had neuropathy and why she got the charcot foot. He told his nurse to put on a contact cast. I tried to explain that we had been there done that and it hadn't worked. At that point I told him about the Foot God and the surgery. He said he would defer to the God. He ordered on the contact cast.
We should have held up our hands and said, "Stop!" We didn't. Connie cried. I tried to process all of it in my head. I was annoyed at the crying. I wanted her to buck up and think things through. The clinic was closing for the day and Connie was one of the last patients of the day so the nurse began putting on the contact cast. There really wasn't time to step back and assess.
And here is where helping one's parent gets difficult. I am happy to take charge for the most part and direct and ask questions and say, "Stop!", but Connie is still very much in charge of her mental state and her health. She wants help, but she doesn't want to relinquish everything into someone else's care. While she isn't able to process things as fast as she once was able to, today's medical care is moving at warp speed and no one wants to take the time to let patients digest information. Doctors want to get paid and to make that happen they have to see as many patients in a day as they can fit in. This doctor, like the Foot God, was at the clinic in addition to his own practice. Connie had an idea what she wanted, and when he didn't deliver, she got flabbergasted and discombobulated. I tried to intervene, but she was still processing and halted me. Bottom line: she got the contact cast against her wishes.
We got back to her house and within twenty minutes we were at the hospital having it removed. The cast hadn't been put on right where she could walk comfortably and the nurse hadn't known about the swelling that Connie's legs and ankles do at night. We took our special removal instructions as the cast isn't like a normal cast and went to the ER where they removed the cast and sent us home within an hour and a half. By that time we both had calmed down and talked things through, and agreed we need to learn to put a stop to things when we feel overwhelmed. We called and made an appointment with the Foot God intending to have the surgery.
In the meantime, the clinic where Connie's favorite nurse worked was working on a crow's foot cast for Connie that would offset her weight and allow her to stand a bit on her foot. It is very much like the contact cast, and unfortunately like the cast she sweats a lot in it and moistens the wound. She got the crow's foot only the day before our visit to the Foot God, but in that waiting period between doctor's the wound had stopped tunneling. The home health care nurse was thrilled.
After the wound doctor appointment we had an appointment with the infectious disease doctor. We both love her so much we could just follow her around all day and listen to her talk. She is Indian and beautiful and so caring Connie cries every time she sees her. She sat and listened to the entire story of the wound doctor, and when we were finished she shook her head. She agreed with the Foot God. The point was taking care of the wound, not going back in time, and doing unnecessary tests to determine something that had been determined long ago. And usually peripheral neuropathy is unexplainable anyway so going through all of that was just crazy. She has worked with the Foot God, never had a problem, all her patients speak highly of him, and he wheels around the parking lot in his little sports car. We laughed and told her we tell him all the time that Connie has paid for that car. We left there happy to have a plan.
The Foot God came into the room and first off made a joke that Connie
and I didn't even recognize because it was so against his personality.
By the time we realized he was being funny, he had rolled off another
funny. We relaxed. He apparently wasn't going to bring up the second
opinion. He was trying to be funny. We were home again. I
love the Foot God.
He had received a letter from the infectious disease doctor AND had read it all. He proved it when Connie questioned him by reciting the letter and then pulled it up on his computer. We gave him lots of prop for that. Working on that personality...
The Foot God was happy with the non tunneling. He was so happy with that and the new crow's foot he opted to let her go another two weeks before talking about surgery again. In this case, surgery being a big deal, we didn't need to think things through. I'm not so certain that two weeks will make any difference, but then I'm not the expert in podiatry (and I don't play like I am in my scrubs).
So we sit and wait again for two weeks.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Aurora has become sleeping beauty
When Madison was a baby the only place she would sleep during the day was in her swing. Or if someone was holding her in his arms. She wouldn't sleep in a bed or in a car or in a stroller. Only on rare occasions would she fall asleep in any of those other places, and if she woke up there was no going back to sleep. Tom and I would hold our breath when she feel asleep in her car seat. We would have to quietly and slowly take the seat out of the car and put it in her crib. There was no one we could remove her first from the seat without her waking, and once awake, she stayed that way.
As she got too old for the swing our pediatrician laid down the law. She has to nap during the day and she has to do this in her bed. I tried to make sure that our mornings were full of activity so that when it was nap time she would sleep. I would darken the room, turn on her lullaby tape recorder, close the door, cross my fingers and hope for the best. Most of the time she slept, but it would take her twenty minutes or so of talking and singing to herself before she drifted off. Sometimes she would cry herself to sleep while I cringed in a corner in the room farthest from the crying, my milk coming in at the sounds and staining my bra and shirt. Eventually she learned that nap time happened every day and it was a good time to rejuvenate.
When she turned one year old she was frustrated with sleeping because THERE WAS TOO MUCH TO DO. Her crib was against the wall between her bedroom door and the door leading into what was then our computer room. I would put her down, tell her to sleep tight, turn on her music, darken the room, give her Elmo, and back out of the room. I would do a few chores and stop and listen. Silence from her room. I would tip toe to her door, open it a few inches, and she would immediately stand up in her crib, a big smile on her face. "All done!" she would say, and then cry when I told her nap time wasn't over. I would feel like a heel, more frustrated then before.
Eventually I learned NOT TO OPEN THE DOOR. Instead I would work in the other rooms and hope that the silence meant she was sleeping. On days when I needed the computer I would wait awhile and then quietly do the tip toe routine into the den. I would cringe at every little sound; the creaking of the chair as I hefted my weight in it, the scraping of the mouse against its pad as I moved it, the clicking of the keys as I tapped. Many days her little hand would turn the doorknob, shove open the door, and a voice would say, "Hi Mama! All done!"
When I got pregnant with Darcy I was worn out each day at nap time. Again my pediatrician stepped in with advice: put her in her room for quiet time. We told her she could play or read in bed, but that she couldn't get up until we told her she could. So she did exactly that. Rarely did she sleep. She would do puzzles, read books, and play with Elmo singing and talking to him for two hours. I got so that I was afraid to sleep myself so I started sleeping on the bed with her. I would sleep and she would play. When she discovered jumping on the bed I let her move to the floor to play so that she wouldn't jump on my belly. After Darcy was born, I said screw it and nap time went out the door.
For years Madison slept only at night unless she was sick, and even then sleeping during the day was rare. If she awoke in the night or early morning hours, then she was awake. She had a hard time falling back to sleep. I use to cringe when a lawn mower started up in the morning or a dog barked because then I knew Maddy would be awake and it was too early. I worried constantly about her lack of eight hours of sleep.
Fast forward to high school. Now this child wants to do nothing but sleep. It started probably six months before high school started. She stayed up late and slept later in the morning. Now that she gets up at 5:45 AM (not that she gets up then, but she is awaken) and doesn't go to bed until after midnight due to papers, projects, and homework on the weekends all she cares about is sleeping.
She sleeps until someone wakes her. Last weekend no one was home and she slept until 1:30 PM. Sometimes she comes home from school so tired that she goes into her room and NAPS for 45 minutes. The first time she did that I stood over her and just stared and stared. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My first born actually taking a nap!
Nothing has changed for me. I still worry because she doesn't get her eight hours except on the weekends. I shush people all weekend long so that she can catch up on her sleep. I still yell at her to get to bed during the week. But I've learned that no matter how much sleep or lack of it that she gets she is able to function and hold it together.
I just wish that I could do the same when it came to her sleeping patterns.
As she got too old for the swing our pediatrician laid down the law. She has to nap during the day and she has to do this in her bed. I tried to make sure that our mornings were full of activity so that when it was nap time she would sleep. I would darken the room, turn on her lullaby tape recorder, close the door, cross my fingers and hope for the best. Most of the time she slept, but it would take her twenty minutes or so of talking and singing to herself before she drifted off. Sometimes she would cry herself to sleep while I cringed in a corner in the room farthest from the crying, my milk coming in at the sounds and staining my bra and shirt. Eventually she learned that nap time happened every day and it was a good time to rejuvenate.
When she turned one year old she was frustrated with sleeping because THERE WAS TOO MUCH TO DO. Her crib was against the wall between her bedroom door and the door leading into what was then our computer room. I would put her down, tell her to sleep tight, turn on her music, darken the room, give her Elmo, and back out of the room. I would do a few chores and stop and listen. Silence from her room. I would tip toe to her door, open it a few inches, and she would immediately stand up in her crib, a big smile on her face. "All done!" she would say, and then cry when I told her nap time wasn't over. I would feel like a heel, more frustrated then before.
Eventually I learned NOT TO OPEN THE DOOR. Instead I would work in the other rooms and hope that the silence meant she was sleeping. On days when I needed the computer I would wait awhile and then quietly do the tip toe routine into the den. I would cringe at every little sound; the creaking of the chair as I hefted my weight in it, the scraping of the mouse against its pad as I moved it, the clicking of the keys as I tapped. Many days her little hand would turn the doorknob, shove open the door, and a voice would say, "Hi Mama! All done!"
When I got pregnant with Darcy I was worn out each day at nap time. Again my pediatrician stepped in with advice: put her in her room for quiet time. We told her she could play or read in bed, but that she couldn't get up until we told her she could. So she did exactly that. Rarely did she sleep. She would do puzzles, read books, and play with Elmo singing and talking to him for two hours. I got so that I was afraid to sleep myself so I started sleeping on the bed with her. I would sleep and she would play. When she discovered jumping on the bed I let her move to the floor to play so that she wouldn't jump on my belly. After Darcy was born, I said screw it and nap time went out the door.
For years Madison slept only at night unless she was sick, and even then sleeping during the day was rare. If she awoke in the night or early morning hours, then she was awake. She had a hard time falling back to sleep. I use to cringe when a lawn mower started up in the morning or a dog barked because then I knew Maddy would be awake and it was too early. I worried constantly about her lack of eight hours of sleep.
Fast forward to high school. Now this child wants to do nothing but sleep. It started probably six months before high school started. She stayed up late and slept later in the morning. Now that she gets up at 5:45 AM (not that she gets up then, but she is awaken) and doesn't go to bed until after midnight due to papers, projects, and homework on the weekends all she cares about is sleeping.
She sleeps until someone wakes her. Last weekend no one was home and she slept until 1:30 PM. Sometimes she comes home from school so tired that she goes into her room and NAPS for 45 minutes. The first time she did that I stood over her and just stared and stared. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My first born actually taking a nap!
Nothing has changed for me. I still worry because she doesn't get her eight hours except on the weekends. I shush people all weekend long so that she can catch up on her sleep. I still yell at her to get to bed during the week. But I've learned that no matter how much sleep or lack of it that she gets she is able to function and hold it together.
I just wish that I could do the same when it came to her sleeping patterns.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Blogger app for apple electronics
I recently downloaded the Blogger app for my phone and Ipad, but have discovered that it isn't the same as blogging via Blogger from my computer. For one I had a hard time saving an entry and pulling it up later on my Ipad. Which made me wonder were did that entry go? For another, I haven't found out how to italicize or I would have used it for part of that last sentence.
I'm not sure how this app will help me in my blogging. I was hoping to use the app for ease when inspiration hit, but it seems easier to just use Safari. But using that doesn't let me post pictures. Apparently this app does...pics from my Ipad that is.
So here goes. These are photos I discovered taken by little munchkins (or larger) who have obviously stolen my pad at various times.
I'm not sure how this app will help me in my blogging. I was hoping to use the app for ease when inspiration hit, but it seems easier to just use Safari. But using that doesn't let me post pictures. Apparently this app does...pics from my Ipad that is.
So here goes. These are photos I discovered taken by little munchkins (or larger) who have obviously stolen my pad at various times.
Madison & Brea twins
Darcy
Grandma Mary Anne - playing against her will I'm sure
Tom
Madison
Darcy
Kelly
Gabby
Hmmmmm....
Thursday, April 26, 2012
I found it...after all these years
Once a long time ago when I was still in school my mother
realized that our education in geography was sorely amiss. We might have been playing Trivial Pursuit
when she discovered this and a discussion was had about what we had learned
about our world and locations. I
honestly could not tell her where countries were located outside of North
America. She was horrified.
Connie: “You are
kidding. You… What have you been
learning?”
Me: “Not geography
Mom. I’ve never had a geography class.”
Connie: (her face red) “Aren’t you
curious? What in the world do you think
of when you talk about countries in history?”
Me: “What do you
mean?”
Connie (her face getting more red):
“What do you see? (taps her head with her finger) What comes to
your mind when you hear about Ethiopia?
What do you see in your head if you don’t know what the country looks
like?”
Me: “I see the word “Ethiopia”
in giant letters across my brain.”
I’m not sure she has ever recovered from that conversation and
that is probably part of the reason why she pays for my children’s private
education in a Montessori based school.
They both were learning about and completing maps of the world at age
three. But the other day I was behind
this vehicle:
And I thought, "Well, I'll be damned. There is Ethiopia." I couldn't wait to tell my mother.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
I'll do it tomorrow
So today was one of those SAHM days where I wonder why. Why did I throw away my expensive four year college education to take care of a house, to become a chauffeur, and to work even harder at taking care of and pushing two daughters so that they too can have that expensive four, perhaps ten, year college education. It started off with me deciding once again to skip the gym because I needed to get on the stick with putting my house back in order cleanliness-wise. First stop? The kitchen.
Since we put in the tile it has driven me crazy. Spots are more pronounced. Stickiness is such that I am literally stuck in one area for hours. The grout is never clean. The kitchen floor had to be cleaned, but I know that one does not start with the floor and work herself up, and so I started from the top. The top right which is where my refrigerator sits. I took out all the food, cans, jars, containers, jugs, and cardboard rolls of cinnamon and orange rolls (on sale this week), and then I washed down the inside of my refrigerator. I removed shelves and cleansed them with antibacterial cleansers. I wiped down sticky residue on bottles, door handles, and walls. I threw away expired salad dressings, marinades with less than two tablespoons of liquid, and my collection of fast food condiment packets. Then I put everything of importance and use back into the clean refrigerator and rubbed down the outside with my stainless steel handy wipes.
Then I got a personal phone call which took up quite a bit of time dealing with, and because I needed two hands to clean with and couldn't tuck the cell under my chin as it always disconnects, I had to stretch out on the couch to take the call. Which made the call longer as such. By the time it was finished and I had completed wiping down counter tops, started the dishwasher and scrubbed the sinks, it was time for me to do the high school car pool pick up. And right on cue my daughter called to tell me she had to stay late for play practice which meant I had to make two trips.
Off I drove to pick up Maddy's friend who we car pool with. She had missed the past two days of school because of a fever and a cough. She was white as a ghost, and I mean that when her face appeared in my passenger window I jumped. She got in the car, spoke little, but coughed, and coughed, and coughed the entire twenty minutes it took for me to get her home. She stumbled to the door and couldn't get in. Her father, who works from home, had forgotten about his daughter and was out to lunch. So back we went the same way we had just come so that I could drop her off at the restaurant where he was eating. As I drove away from there Madison texted me to pick her up in ten minutes.
Since it would take me longer than that to get back to the school I went immediately. I texted her upon my arrival, but did not receive a response. Forty minutes later she called, apologetic, but low and behold her teacher had called her back up on stage sans phone. Oh, and she couldn't leave yet. I went home kid-less. Upon that return I found that in my absence while my dishwasher and laundry machine were hard at work my kitchen sink was clogged.
I tried plunging. I ran the disposal. I called the hubby. I called the plumber. The woman answering phones and setting up appointments had a screaming baby in the background. She apologized. I empathized. She asked my situation. I told her. She offered a plumber for tomorrow. So much for that mom to mom thing. I demanded a plumber today. She agreed to send one between 3 and 7. As I hung up the acting daughter called and assured me she was finished for the day.
I drove back to school, dropped off that daughter at home, and drove to the other school to pick up the second daughter. I got her home and stared at my clogged sink. No point in making dinner. I walked the dog instead, stopping for awhile to sit and chat with my neighbor Chuck. We discussed happenings in the hood which included an attempted, but thwarted, robbery and a suicide by gun shot.
Chuck: "And I just heard that some man stopped his car at the Seven Eleven on 58th and killed his wife and then himself."
Me: "Jeez, what is happening? That's like the third husband to kill his wife this week. Did you read that in the paper about the man who killed his wife yesterday and then shot himself? And three days ago some husband put a pillow over his wife's face and killed her."
Chuck: "I understand it. I can see it. Has to be done."
Me: "Nice."
Chuck: "I'm just saying a man is working his butt off while his wife is clogging up sinks and costing him money."
The plumber arrived before seven and worked some time unclogging the sink. Damage: $157.50. But he also ran the snake down the other side of our house where our toilets reside back to back...just in case. I paid him, cooked dinner, helped Darcy pack for her field trip the next day and gladly stumbled to bed. As I lay in bed thinking of tomorrow and what was on tap, I realized that the kitchen floor still had yet to be cleaned. Good thing I have tomorrow.
Since we put in the tile it has driven me crazy. Spots are more pronounced. Stickiness is such that I am literally stuck in one area for hours. The grout is never clean. The kitchen floor had to be cleaned, but I know that one does not start with the floor and work herself up, and so I started from the top. The top right which is where my refrigerator sits. I took out all the food, cans, jars, containers, jugs, and cardboard rolls of cinnamon and orange rolls (on sale this week), and then I washed down the inside of my refrigerator. I removed shelves and cleansed them with antibacterial cleansers. I wiped down sticky residue on bottles, door handles, and walls. I threw away expired salad dressings, marinades with less than two tablespoons of liquid, and my collection of fast food condiment packets. Then I put everything of importance and use back into the clean refrigerator and rubbed down the outside with my stainless steel handy wipes.
Then I got a personal phone call which took up quite a bit of time dealing with, and because I needed two hands to clean with and couldn't tuck the cell under my chin as it always disconnects, I had to stretch out on the couch to take the call. Which made the call longer as such. By the time it was finished and I had completed wiping down counter tops, started the dishwasher and scrubbed the sinks, it was time for me to do the high school car pool pick up. And right on cue my daughter called to tell me she had to stay late for play practice which meant I had to make two trips.
Off I drove to pick up Maddy's friend who we car pool with. She had missed the past two days of school because of a fever and a cough. She was white as a ghost, and I mean that when her face appeared in my passenger window I jumped. She got in the car, spoke little, but coughed, and coughed, and coughed the entire twenty minutes it took for me to get her home. She stumbled to the door and couldn't get in. Her father, who works from home, had forgotten about his daughter and was out to lunch. So back we went the same way we had just come so that I could drop her off at the restaurant where he was eating. As I drove away from there Madison texted me to pick her up in ten minutes.
Since it would take me longer than that to get back to the school I went immediately. I texted her upon my arrival, but did not receive a response. Forty minutes later she called, apologetic, but low and behold her teacher had called her back up on stage sans phone. Oh, and she couldn't leave yet. I went home kid-less. Upon that return I found that in my absence while my dishwasher and laundry machine were hard at work my kitchen sink was clogged.
I tried plunging. I ran the disposal. I called the hubby. I called the plumber. The woman answering phones and setting up appointments had a screaming baby in the background. She apologized. I empathized. She asked my situation. I told her. She offered a plumber for tomorrow. So much for that mom to mom thing. I demanded a plumber today. She agreed to send one between 3 and 7. As I hung up the acting daughter called and assured me she was finished for the day.
I drove back to school, dropped off that daughter at home, and drove to the other school to pick up the second daughter. I got her home and stared at my clogged sink. No point in making dinner. I walked the dog instead, stopping for awhile to sit and chat with my neighbor Chuck. We discussed happenings in the hood which included an attempted, but thwarted, robbery and a suicide by gun shot.
Chuck: "And I just heard that some man stopped his car at the Seven Eleven on 58th and killed his wife and then himself."
Me: "Jeez, what is happening? That's like the third husband to kill his wife this week. Did you read that in the paper about the man who killed his wife yesterday and then shot himself? And three days ago some husband put a pillow over his wife's face and killed her."
Chuck: "I understand it. I can see it. Has to be done."
Me: "Nice."
Chuck: "I'm just saying a man is working his butt off while his wife is clogging up sinks and costing him money."
The plumber arrived before seven and worked some time unclogging the sink. Damage: $157.50. But he also ran the snake down the other side of our house where our toilets reside back to back...just in case. I paid him, cooked dinner, helped Darcy pack for her field trip the next day and gladly stumbled to bed. As I lay in bed thinking of tomorrow and what was on tap, I realized that the kitchen floor still had yet to be cleaned. Good thing I have tomorrow.
Monday, April 23, 2012
The future looks...childless
This last year or so I have been doing a lot of thinking about my life and where it is going; where I see my future. I think it started with my daughter going to high school. I can remember her as a toddler running around, her bare feet scrunched in the carpeting for traction, while the mothers in our play group worried about kindergarten. I remembering scoffing at them and thinking how far away kindergarten was for my little Madison. Then suddenly she was in eighth grade and we were choosing a high school, and I knew that college was just around the bend. With children in your life time rotates around that clock at speed dial no matter how hard you try to slow it. Darcy will be right on Madison's heels and just like that I will be out of a job.
I watched my friend Robin go through it with her daughter. We happened to end up staying at her house in Indiana the summer Kristen set off for Purdue. I watched as Robin made trips to Target loading up on linens and bed sheets, her foyer stacked with boxes and all the odds and ends kids haul off to college. I listened as my friend lamented about how fast the time flew by and we remembered together the little raven haired toddler who scrunched up her nose and blew out when she sniffed a flower. Now she is getting ready to send off her second child.
This August my nephew will be heading to Ball State University. The same nephew who once looked so tiny in my husband's long arms, and who I trailed behind as he drove his little motorized car around the driveway, my little red haired girl in the passenger seat. I listen to my sister-in-law as she prepares to let him go, to watch him as leaves the nest, and I feel panic for her and for myself.
All of us, Robin, Susan, and myself have defined ourselves as mothers. We gave up whatever careers we once had or dreamed about to be stay at home mothers devoted to caring for our offspring. It wasn't something we set out to do, but something that felt right for all us. We were the mothers who didn't jump up and down when their kids boarded their school buses, but who instead enjoyed having them home with us. That is probably what will be our down fall, that feeling, but for the years that they were in our care that is how we worked. Now as one by one our kids move into their next phase of their lives, away from us, we have to find ourselves away from our kids.
I don't think that will be easy. Not for me, or Susan, or Robin. I think the most natural thing would be reconnecting with our spouses, but we each have husbands who work or who play quite nicely by themselves. While they will hopefully spend time with us, we have got to also not depend on them for whatever lies ahead. Which leads back to my original thought of how I'm thinking ahead to my future. I think keeping a list of ideas might be the way to go, especially with my memory doing its flip flopping. So far I have one item on the list.
* Buy a puppy that will love me and only me. One that will be small and will want to snuggle and cuddle.
I'm not a certified shrink, although I play one often (in and out of my scrubs), but something tells me that that item might not be a good start; that I'm substituting one child for another. I've randomly thought of things I could do like travel, but that means needing money, and since I didn't receive a paycheck for the job(s) I did as a stay at home mother I'm not sure that is a viable item for the list either. And as I think of these items, like the puppy and traveling, than tandem thoughts pop up such as maybe I should take in an exchange student, or foster a kid, or learn to give pedicures and work from my bathroom to make the extra income to travel. Then the thought of starting again with kids or going back to school makes me tired, which makes me realize I'm old, and then that depression just climbs on top of the kids are leaving soon depression and the weight becomes unbearable.
It would be so much easier if Susan and Robin lived near me and then we could be depressed together every morning over coffee around my pool, but alas, we all three live miles apart. Hmmmm...that gives me an idea. Maybe a commune for retired SAHM where we all work together toward something, our spouses visiting us on the weekends? Let me think on that one for awhile...I have five years.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
My random morning thoughts
My sis-in-law over at Me & My Thoughts did this yesterday and it made me laugh. This morning as my thoughts were going full blown I remembered her thoughts and laughed again. Then decided to copy her. My rambling brain as it started at 5:45 AM:
- Get up! Just get up and go into the bathroom. It isn't that hard Madison. Aaaaahhhhh!
- Why? Why can't she get up? I get up. My alarm goes off and I get up. I don't want to, but I do. Tom gets up. We don't dilly dally in bed. She has got to start getting up earlier. Why do I have to be the one? I'm getting up three and four times a morning to go in there and harass her.
- That's it! I'm done! I'm not doing this any more. She can just get up on her own.
- I have to get up earlier than normal this morning because I told Madison I would fix her lunch to take to school. See! See how responsible I am to remember that and to get up and do it? She needs a job. Kids today don't have the responsibilities we had back in the day. I had a job at 15. Hell, I had a job at 14! And even earlier than that if you want to count babysitting, which I do because that was a responsibility, a job. She hasn't even done that.
- Who can Madison babysit? I don't know anybody. Well, SueG's kids. Maybe I can ask SueG to go out to dinner with me while Madison babysits and then I'll give SueG money to give to Madison. No, no, that isn't going to work. She needs to spend several hours doing this, putting kids to bed, playing with them. I'm not sure she can even do that. Hmmm...there are the kids down the street. I should talk to Stacey about that.
- No! No! Madison should talk to Stacey about a job. Jeez, here I go again taking her by the hand. But I know Madison. She will just say, "But you're the one who wants me to have the job."
- Why is this refrigerator so crowded? I hate this refrigerator. I just cleaned it two days ago. Why am I the only one who can organize this thing?
- This cheese smells funky. It should still be fine. I just bought it. I'd taste it, but it is way too early for that. It's fine.
- I wonder how the toaster oven will work this morning? Will the waffles be bent? Will they get stuck? How come this never happened to me at Susan's house with her toaster oven? I hate this toaster oven.
- Now Madison is annoyed as she goes off to school and it is all my fault. And seriously? Did I really say that out loud? I've become my parents now. That's the kind of thing my parents would have said to me. I might as well start saying I had to walk to school two miles in the snow. Which I never did. I walked to the bus stop. Which was fun actually. See, see, she needs to ride the bus so she can have that experience. We had fun at the bus stop.
- This dog is so loving in the morning. Why can't he be like this all the time? Why is he scratching? No. Stop it! Great! Great! Now he is going to start with that allergy stuff again. Someone must be taking him out in the front yard. Why can't anyone listen to me about that? Take the dog to the backyard!
- Do I call Connie this early? No, not yet. We don't have the appointment until later today so I'll wait.
- Does Scott just keep starting new games in this Scramble? We have like 50 games going. Why can't I remember any words? These boards are the same boards and still I can't get any words past 5 letters.
- I hope fishingaddiction is Scott. Maybe it is someone that I thought was Scott, but isn't. No, that has to be Scott. Who else can be that addicted to fishing?
- Oh, look the bunny is back! He's so cute. What the hell could he possibly be eating in my yard?
- I wonder if anyone wonders why I wasn't at the meeting last night after I said I would be. See if you were really my friend, wouldn't you call to find that out? Especially after I had to ask for help yesterday from you? I find that so weird. I would have called to find out.
- I shouldn't eat these Frosted Flakes. They are full of sugar. I'm so lazy. And seriously, unless you eat these with whole milk what is the point? It's just a waste of sugar. My father loved these things and look what happened to him. Dead of a heart attack. I have got to start changing my ways.
- Oh, my god, are these dishes dirty? Am I the only one who can run this dishwasher? How hard is it?
- I need to start a list of things I need starting with dish washing soap.
- This coffee is way too strong. How is that possible? I didn't even put all the scoops in. That just means more sugary creamer. I am not doing well this morning on my quest to shed these pounds.
- Seriously? People hang these bathing suits out here to dry and forget them. The sun ruins them and now they have been rained on. And the towel too? Am I the only one who can put this stuff away?
- I have got to go farm. And blog. What am I going to write about today?
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Part of the reason my dog is stressed
Monday morning this was outside our front door:
And I mean right outside our front door, which we leave open so that Elliot can enjoy the early morning scenery. This little bunny knew Elliot was watching, knew Elliot couldn't get out, and obviously knew we wouldn't let him out. He just kept eating whatever it was in our yard that caught his interest while poor Elliot stood at point. Very quietly.
I suggested just opening the door to see what Elliot would do, but Darcy and I decided he would shoot out, capture the bunny, and have rabbit stew for breakfast. Darcy shooed the bunny away.
Tuesday this little guy was outside in our front yard eating away at something (maybe the same thing that attracted the bunny?)
We had a flock of ibis last week on our street going from yard to yard as a group, but they are gone now and apparently this little guy got left behind. Elliot wasn't as interested in the ibis as he was the bunny because he knows from experience that this one can fly in the air where the bunny puts up a good chase. But still he kept a vigil by the front door until we shooed the bird into the air.
Darcy and I think maybe this morning we will keep the door shut.
And I mean right outside our front door, which we leave open so that Elliot can enjoy the early morning scenery. This little bunny knew Elliot was watching, knew Elliot couldn't get out, and obviously knew we wouldn't let him out. He just kept eating whatever it was in our yard that caught his interest while poor Elliot stood at point. Very quietly.
I suggested just opening the door to see what Elliot would do, but Darcy and I decided he would shoot out, capture the bunny, and have rabbit stew for breakfast. Darcy shooed the bunny away.
Tuesday this little guy was outside in our front yard eating away at something (maybe the same thing that attracted the bunny?)
We had a flock of ibis last week on our street going from yard to yard as a group, but they are gone now and apparently this little guy got left behind. Elliot wasn't as interested in the ibis as he was the bunny because he knows from experience that this one can fly in the air where the bunny puts up a good chase. But still he kept a vigil by the front door until we shooed the bird into the air.
Darcy and I think maybe this morning we will keep the door shut.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Here's Maxwell!
Yesterday while at the Dermatologist's office for an exam ("so much sun exposure, so much sun exposure"), I was put in the same room that I'm always in--one with very little for the eyes and brain. The walls are white, there are only two chairs and a table, and the only things to read are pamphlets about dreaded skin diseases or skincare. Oh, and there's a sink and cabinet, and a rolling stool for the medical professional.
Also, there is a painting--ignore the lights and my reflection.
I enjoy studying this painting. It is simple, and strange, and happy, and every time I stare at it, I wonder--what the hell?
I mean, where is this pond that appears to be in the middle of nowhere? Where is the farm? Are pigs natural divers? What went through the artist's mind when he decided what he'd paint on the canvas? No one--not even my dermatologist--has a clue or information about this painting.
Leaving my appointment, a commercial came on the radio--the Geico ad starring Maxwell, the pig. He of the "whee whee whee" all the way home, head hanging out the car window, pinwheel in hoof commercial. This time he was without his signature "whee," because the director didn't want it in the commercial.
Maxwell: "But, it's sort of my thing."
Director: "Stick to the script"
It's a terrible ad, but it explained the painting I'd just left! That's the pig who plays Maxwell in the Geico commercials. He's on his estate in the Hollywood hills--earned from the money he's made from Geico, and that's his pool, and he's obviously living it up after a long day of filming! Probably an artist was there for some portrait work, and he captured the moment.
I'm so thrilled to have figured it out.
But then I sat down to blog about it and made the mistake of Googling the painting. It is called Kohler's Pig and is an oil painting by Michael Sowa (I'm not making that up). He apparently paints many animals, and pigs are the main subject.
I like my version better...
Also, there is a painting--ignore the lights and my reflection.
I enjoy studying this painting. It is simple, and strange, and happy, and every time I stare at it, I wonder--what the hell?
I mean, where is this pond that appears to be in the middle of nowhere? Where is the farm? Are pigs natural divers? What went through the artist's mind when he decided what he'd paint on the canvas? No one--not even my dermatologist--has a clue or information about this painting.
Leaving my appointment, a commercial came on the radio--the Geico ad starring Maxwell, the pig. He of the "whee whee whee" all the way home, head hanging out the car window, pinwheel in hoof commercial. This time he was without his signature "whee," because the director didn't want it in the commercial.
Maxwell: "But, it's sort of my thing."
Director: "Stick to the script"
It's a terrible ad, but it explained the painting I'd just left! That's the pig who plays Maxwell in the Geico commercials. He's on his estate in the Hollywood hills--earned from the money he's made from Geico, and that's his pool, and he's obviously living it up after a long day of filming! Probably an artist was there for some portrait work, and he captured the moment.
I'm so thrilled to have figured it out.
But then I sat down to blog about it and made the mistake of Googling the painting. It is called Kohler's Pig and is an oil painting by Michael Sowa (I'm not making that up). He apparently paints many animals, and pigs are the main subject.
I like my version better...
Monday, April 16, 2012
Connie Foot Update
Connie saw the Foot God last week after being released by the wound clinic and the hyperbaric doctor after 40 visits failed to close the wound. The hyperbaric physician and the Foot God agreed that a mangled bone in Connie's foot might be hampering the healing process due to her peripheral neuropathy.
The Foot God would like to do a surgery where he would make an incision on the outside of the foot, go inside, and plane (sand down) the bone, possibly closing the wound as well. He was ready to make an appointment for that, but Connie asked him if she could get a second opinion, having an appointment with another wound clinic doctor for this week. The Foot God assured us he was the best and that he knew this doctor and that this doctor would refer to him. Connie still wants to hear what he has to say before she makes a decision. The surgery will require an overnight stay in the hospital. Recovery would be several weeks.
The Foot God would like to do a surgery where he would make an incision on the outside of the foot, go inside, and plane (sand down) the bone, possibly closing the wound as well. He was ready to make an appointment for that, but Connie asked him if she could get a second opinion, having an appointment with another wound clinic doctor for this week. The Foot God assured us he was the best and that he knew this doctor and that this doctor would refer to him. Connie still wants to hear what he has to say before she makes a decision. The surgery will require an overnight stay in the hospital. Recovery would be several weeks.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Our lifeguard
When we first got Elliot one of my concerns (and there were many let me tell you) was the pool. We have a pool fence that separates one from the deck and the pool, but as usual I worried what if. What if someone left the gate open and the dog got out? What if the dog chewed through the fence and got to the water? What if the dog opened the gate? So I decided that the dog needed to learn to swim. As soon as the weather warmed up we introduced Elliot to the pool. Swimming came naturally to him, although he wasn't in any hurry to get into the water, but he knew how to swim and where to go to get out of the pool. The problem was and is that he doesn't seem to like that we are in the pool.
We know he loves water. One of his favorite exercises is having Madison spray the hose around the yard so that he can race back and forth jumping and catching the mist and spray. Every time Madison takes him into the front yard he leads her to the hose in hope that she will play the game. But when it comes to the pool and splashing he gets frantic. He wants us to splash him so that he can jump and catch the droplets, but if we aren't focused on him then he will run around the pool deck barking and whining, barking and whining.
It can get quite annoying, all that barking, as he barks shrilly and loudly. Tom attempted to train him by pushing him into the pool when he started all that barking, but Elliot has know learned to run out of the way. The last time we left him in the house while swimming he knocked off all the stuff on my bookcases that are under our big picture window leading to the pool. Plus he howls when we leave him inside, and by howling, I mean like a wolf. The newest problem is that all the running around the pool deck causes his paws to bleed and he limps for a couple days afterwards.
I've been wondering if he is a natural lifeguard. If someone's head goes underwater and there is splashing involved he has been known to jump into the water. Once in he doesn't attempt to drag the person to safety, but instead swims to the stairs, but I'm wondering if maybe I should be teaching him some lifeguard training. Because certainly the neighbors are use to his barking and barking and they aren't about to come see what is going on if he were barking in an emergency situation.
One day I went into the pool and tried to do some sunbathing while on a raft. It was so boring that I actually fell asleep and was awakened five minutes later by Elliot who pawing me on my head when the raft floated to the side. This past week I have been doing something I was taught not to do. I have been swimming alone. While this goes against everything I've ever learned in my business I am desperate to exercise my degenerative disc disease and think water is the way to do it. If I get in and keep my hands under the water, my head out of the water, and my splashing to zero then Elliot will go find some shade and lifeguard me from there.
If after a few minutes, I keep to that plan then he is able to relax even more while keeping a vigilant visual.
Yesterday I got the bright idea to train him to stop that incessant barking. I pulled him into the deep end and swam with him to the shallow. We did this four times, but it didn't stop him once he was on land. I enlisted Tom and Darcy's help. Tom rigged it so that I could tie a cord around my waist with the other end hooked around the railing so that I could swim without moving. He and Darcy cornered Elliot so that he couldn't run and tried training him to stop barking. Instead Elliot jumped into the pool. Over and over. Tom tried holding him, but he just barked. I held him in the water while Darcy swam, but he would make this pitiful whine like he just knew she was in trouble. We finally gave up. Everyone was exhausted. Elliot slept well.
We'll try again tomorrow, but something tells me he is just a nervous nelly lifeguard that isn't going to let down his guard as long as people are splashing as if they are in trouble.
We know he loves water. One of his favorite exercises is having Madison spray the hose around the yard so that he can race back and forth jumping and catching the mist and spray. Every time Madison takes him into the front yard he leads her to the hose in hope that she will play the game. But when it comes to the pool and splashing he gets frantic. He wants us to splash him so that he can jump and catch the droplets, but if we aren't focused on him then he will run around the pool deck barking and whining, barking and whining.
It can get quite annoying, all that barking, as he barks shrilly and loudly. Tom attempted to train him by pushing him into the pool when he started all that barking, but Elliot has know learned to run out of the way. The last time we left him in the house while swimming he knocked off all the stuff on my bookcases that are under our big picture window leading to the pool. Plus he howls when we leave him inside, and by howling, I mean like a wolf. The newest problem is that all the running around the pool deck causes his paws to bleed and he limps for a couple days afterwards.
I've been wondering if he is a natural lifeguard. If someone's head goes underwater and there is splashing involved he has been known to jump into the water. Once in he doesn't attempt to drag the person to safety, but instead swims to the stairs, but I'm wondering if maybe I should be teaching him some lifeguard training. Because certainly the neighbors are use to his barking and barking and they aren't about to come see what is going on if he were barking in an emergency situation.
One day I went into the pool and tried to do some sunbathing while on a raft. It was so boring that I actually fell asleep and was awakened five minutes later by Elliot who pawing me on my head when the raft floated to the side. This past week I have been doing something I was taught not to do. I have been swimming alone. While this goes against everything I've ever learned in my business I am desperate to exercise my degenerative disc disease and think water is the way to do it. If I get in and keep my hands under the water, my head out of the water, and my splashing to zero then Elliot will go find some shade and lifeguard me from there.
If after a few minutes, I keep to that plan then he is able to relax even more while keeping a vigilant visual.
Yesterday I got the bright idea to train him to stop that incessant barking. I pulled him into the deep end and swam with him to the shallow. We did this four times, but it didn't stop him once he was on land. I enlisted Tom and Darcy's help. Tom rigged it so that I could tie a cord around my waist with the other end hooked around the railing so that I could swim without moving. He and Darcy cornered Elliot so that he couldn't run and tried training him to stop barking. Instead Elliot jumped into the pool. Over and over. Tom tried holding him, but he just barked. I held him in the water while Darcy swam, but he would make this pitiful whine like he just knew she was in trouble. We finally gave up. Everyone was exhausted. Elliot slept well.
We'll try again tomorrow, but something tells me he is just a nervous nelly lifeguard that isn't going to let down his guard as long as people are splashing as if they are in trouble.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
SAT update
A few weeks ago, I wrote about the differences between my daughters and their experiences in taking the SAT's as seventh graders. I wrote the entry after returning from dropping off daughter number two and never updated it after picking her up. As usual, the differences were vast.
After Madison's little meltdown in the early morning, I returned to find her sitting alone at the school, having finished earlier than expected.
Madison: "Hi!"
Me: "How did it go?"
Madison: "It was really easy! Seriously."
She scored better than seventy-five percent of the Florida senior high school students who took the same test, and she received recognition and a medal from Duke University.
Remembering that, I was at the school early to pick up Darcy, but she came out way past the scheduled time. She walked out of the school building amongst a sea of seniors and hopped in the car.
Darcy: "I pretty much guessed on that entire test! Just so you know!"
Pfft. She scored significantly higher on the essay than Madison, and her scores were very good despite her statement. We are very proud of her.
In the end, I think the experience was a good one--at least they'll know what to expect when the time comes to take it for college acceptance.
Also, I'm thrilled they've added a category, so the test is out of 2400 in total points instead of 1600, and I don't have to compare my own high school scores with those taken by my seventh graders.
After Madison's little meltdown in the early morning, I returned to find her sitting alone at the school, having finished earlier than expected.
Madison: "Hi!"
Me: "How did it go?"
Madison: "It was really easy! Seriously."
She scored better than seventy-five percent of the Florida senior high school students who took the same test, and she received recognition and a medal from Duke University.
Remembering that, I was at the school early to pick up Darcy, but she came out way past the scheduled time. She walked out of the school building amongst a sea of seniors and hopped in the car.
Darcy: "I pretty much guessed on that entire test! Just so you know!"
Pfft. She scored significantly higher on the essay than Madison, and her scores were very good despite her statement. We are very proud of her.
In the end, I think the experience was a good one--at least they'll know what to expect when the time comes to take it for college acceptance.
Also, I'm thrilled they've added a category, so the test is out of 2400 in total points instead of 1600, and I don't have to compare my own high school scores with those taken by my seventh graders.
Monday, April 09, 2012
Our new neighbor
It is very exciting when one gets a new neighbor, especially next door. Our new neighbor moved in about three weeks ago and the girls, especially Darcy, are quite excited to have him so close. His name is Nickel, aka Nicky, and he is awfully adorable.
He is a Yorkshire terrier and is about twelve weeks old. He is full of mischief according to his owner, but all we see is cuteness.
When he comes outside in his backyard and he hears us in our pool area he runs under his owner's shrubs, which butt up against the fence between our yards, sticks his nose through the fence and whines in this tiny little squeal to get our attention. Elliot wanders over, takes one look, and comes back inside. Nicky loves Elliot and jumps all over him nipping him to get him to play, but Elliot freezes and gives us this look as if to say, "What the hell? Get this thing off of me!"
SueG: "Elliot acts like an old man."
Tom: "Nicky is just an annoying mosquito to Elliot."
The first week he moved in he got into some stuff under one of the beds in his owner's house and ate a book of matches. He didn't feel so hot for a day or so, but he has recovered quite nicely to bound across the yards like a little bunny. He and Darcy run, chase, and retrieve objects. He thinks Darcy is his playmate.
She picks him up and he just snuggles right into her neck, giving her little licks of his tongue. He is about five pounds now and won't get much bigger. I enjoy him like a grandchild; playing with him and than giving him back. I'm quite happy to be done with the puppy stage, but quite happy to have him as our neighbor!
He is a Yorkshire terrier and is about twelve weeks old. He is full of mischief according to his owner, but all we see is cuteness.
When he comes outside in his backyard and he hears us in our pool area he runs under his owner's shrubs, which butt up against the fence between our yards, sticks his nose through the fence and whines in this tiny little squeal to get our attention. Elliot wanders over, takes one look, and comes back inside. Nicky loves Elliot and jumps all over him nipping him to get him to play, but Elliot freezes and gives us this look as if to say, "What the hell? Get this thing off of me!"
SueG: "Elliot acts like an old man."
Tom: "Nicky is just an annoying mosquito to Elliot."
The first week he moved in he got into some stuff under one of the beds in his owner's house and ate a book of matches. He didn't feel so hot for a day or so, but he has recovered quite nicely to bound across the yards like a little bunny. He and Darcy run, chase, and retrieve objects. He thinks Darcy is his playmate.
She picks him up and he just snuggles right into her neck, giving her little licks of his tongue. He is about five pounds now and won't get much bigger. I enjoy him like a grandchild; playing with him and than giving him back. I'm quite happy to be done with the puppy stage, but quite happy to have him as our neighbor!
Sunday, April 08, 2012
Happy Easter 2012
Our Easter hunt began late this morning despite Darcy's 7:00 AM attempt to get the rest of the house up and at 'em. Usually the girls' Easter baskets are on the kitchen table at their places, but this morning only two puzzle boxes and two eggs awaited them. The back of the puzzle box read: Happy Hunting!
And they began the hunt. Three rooms held plenty of eggs.
Some not so hard to spot! The eggs had a "D" for Darcy and an "M" for Madison so if Maddy found a "D" egg she quickly put it back for her sister to find. The eggs also had numbers on them which the girls figured out had to do with the number of eggs hidden and the puzzle pieces.
Elliot helped out Madison in her hunting. He turned out to be a great Easter egg hunter!
Only problem was he was also a great Easter egg cracker as well. Each egg contained puzzle pieces and a variety of chocolate candy. We had to do some intervening on the chocolate.
Darcy collected all her eggs first. She then helped her sister who was missing six eggs. It turned out to be quite a hunt for those six eggs.
Eventually we all had to get involved. I'm not bragging when I say I found most of the six eggs, including the last one. Once the eggs were all found the girls got down to opening them and assembling the puzzles...which turned out to be hologram puzzles! That meant that the puzzles had two different pictures on them depending how you turned the piece.
The challenge was on to solve the puzzles. Darcy had her mother help her, but she didn't really need it. Madison worked alone on her Fancy Nancy 100 piece puzzle.
Darcy and I finished first and Darcy began the task of flipping the puzzle over. The girls realized early on that a message was printed on the back of the puzzle that would lead them to something grand!
Darcy's Fancy Nancy completed puzzle looking at it one way...
And looking at it the other way! The butterflies were the main challenge in the puzzle as were the shoes and the hair/hat.
The back of Darcy's puzzle said...
And when she did what she was told she finally found her Easter basket complete with bunny and peeps!
Madison finished her puzzle not long after her sister and began the process of flipping it over
The pieces held quite nicely and the message was loud and clear...
And when she too followed the instructions...
She was rewarded with an Easter basket as well!
Madison's Fancy Nancy puzzle completed looking at it one way...
And the other way... The puzzles were cute ones and certainly a challenge.
But in the end the rewards were worth it! Happy Easter to everyone!
And they began the hunt. Three rooms held plenty of eggs.
Some not so hard to spot! The eggs had a "D" for Darcy and an "M" for Madison so if Maddy found a "D" egg she quickly put it back for her sister to find. The eggs also had numbers on them which the girls figured out had to do with the number of eggs hidden and the puzzle pieces.
Elliot helped out Madison in her hunting. He turned out to be a great Easter egg hunter!
Only problem was he was also a great Easter egg cracker as well. Each egg contained puzzle pieces and a variety of chocolate candy. We had to do some intervening on the chocolate.
Darcy collected all her eggs first. She then helped her sister who was missing six eggs. It turned out to be quite a hunt for those six eggs.
Eventually we all had to get involved. I'm not bragging when I say I found most of the six eggs, including the last one. Once the eggs were all found the girls got down to opening them and assembling the puzzles...which turned out to be hologram puzzles! That meant that the puzzles had two different pictures on them depending how you turned the piece.
The challenge was on to solve the puzzles. Darcy had her mother help her, but she didn't really need it. Madison worked alone on her Fancy Nancy 100 piece puzzle.
Darcy and I finished first and Darcy began the task of flipping the puzzle over. The girls realized early on that a message was printed on the back of the puzzle that would lead them to something grand!
Darcy's Fancy Nancy completed puzzle looking at it one way...
And looking at it the other way! The butterflies were the main challenge in the puzzle as were the shoes and the hair/hat.
The back of Darcy's puzzle said...
And when she did what she was told she finally found her Easter basket complete with bunny and peeps!
Madison finished her puzzle not long after her sister and began the process of flipping it over
The pieces held quite nicely and the message was loud and clear...
And when she too followed the instructions...
She was rewarded with an Easter basket as well!
Madison's Fancy Nancy puzzle completed looking at it one way...
And the other way... The puzzles were cute ones and certainly a challenge.
But in the end the rewards were worth it! Happy Easter to everyone!