Life Is Going to Shit..Literally.

Today has been one of those days when I am knee deep into it and I just ask myself, "Why?" Why do you stay home, trapped in, ummm, being home all the time? Why do the meanest, cruelest things always happen to you? Those are just a few of the million questions that I have for myself on a daily basis.

This morning I woke up at 650am for no good or apparent reason. I felt very lively at that time and decided to play a few games online instead of cleaning the city dump that is my house this week. All was well until about 9 am when the most extreme sleepy, tiredness hit me, almost like a drug induced, seditive tired.

Since the girls were not up yet, I curled up in bed hoping for a nice power nap to ward off this sudden drowsiness. I immediately started drifting off into one of those cozy, toasty naps when Brooke busted in the door. She was talking loud about cereal, juice and possibly going swimming. It took me about fifteen minutes to come to completely with the help of Brooke's whining getting louder and louder, "I WANT CEREAL!!!!". Yes, cereal, I think we have that, as I stumble out into the hallway feeling drugged and dizzy. I spot Cassie coming into kitchen, give an order to feed Brooke and stumble back to bedroom. The sleep is overcoming me now...I must, I can't stop it, my body cannot tolerate awakeness right now. "COME SIT AND EAT CEREAL, MOMMY...WHAHHHHHHHH, COME ON, MOMMY, MOMMY,MOMMY, MOMMY!!!" Okay, back up again.

I don't want any cereal, but is that a chair and a table to rest my head on?? Okay, I can do that. "MOMMY, WOOK AT ME!!!" Okay, wooking, I mean looking....She runs out of the room to the potty and then yells for me to wipe her butt. When I get there, she is gone and is now in my bedroom. I tell her to come back so I can do that thing she asked. I look down and it (by it, I mean shit!!) is all over her legs and feet. What the hell? I put her in the bathtub, wash it all off, turn to pee and see it is all over the toilet too. Life is cruel and mom is so, very tired.

After the clean up I coax her into watching cartoons in my bedroom, she goes for it..yay! I then get her all comfortable under the covers, walk around the bed to snuggle into the other side when I feel a very, unpleasant squishy substance on my toes. No, please not THAT! But, yes, totally that!! More shit! I clean up the floor and my foot and head back in.

The day was long and I never did get over this tired misery. But just for fun, after dinner I went to use the bathroom and I starting picking up some towels as I walked through and once again a squishy, unpleasant substance haunted me. It was a pair of her undies,the pair that she must have dirtied this morning, that leaked in my bedroom. There they lay under a towel and of all the places for my foot to land...again....why???????

Seriously, WHY?????????

Cassie in D.C.

Cassie went on her big 7th grade trip to Washington, D.C. last week. Remember the whole tearful good-bye I wrote about a few posts ago?

Of all the impressive sites that D.C. had to offer, one of her favorites was this foot. She even posed kissing the big toe.

They did your general, weird pose pictures in the hotel room, because with all the historical landmarks in D.C.,why, like, waste your film on that?? And with photo editor, you can jazz'em all up and junk...way better than those boring monuments.

Another of the highlights of her trip was when she got to pose with a war protesting,used to a hippie-like dude. She has several pictures of this hottie and she fondly remembers this as " the funnest part of the trip".

All in all, she seemed to have a good time, even though when she got home on FRIDAY night, no one was there to pick her up and she had to walk home...3 blocks up hill..with all her luggage...at midnight. That tends to happen when she tells you to make sure to be there to pick her up on SATURDAY! Since she had the pukey-itis and missed school the day they handed out the itinerary, we took her word for it. Will we ever learn and will she ever miss the opportunity to make us look like the stupidest, most non-caring parents on earth?

Probably not.

Taylor Wins!!

I went to the darts banquet instead of staying home for the finale, but when I made a call to see who won at 10pm, I wanted to watch the show immediately. I'm such a nerd, but...WOW, the show was awesome.

When the opportunity came to get the tape, and that happened because I whined over and over, "I want to see it NOW!", my friend met me at Mcdonalds and I skipped meeting my dart buddies for round two. After listening, for an hour and a half, to the top teams in each league and the top shooters and not being even remotely close to winning any such honor, the show seemed more exciting than continuing on to the bar. I think I made the right choice because...WOW, the show was awesome! Did I say that already?

There were guests like Prince, who cracked me up when he came to sing on AI, but then walked off all "I am so above this" in true Prince style before Ryan could walk over to thank him. Everyone sounded so well too, well most everyone minus the Clay lover and the singing cowboys, but they were supposed to be bad. Taylor's number with Toni Braxton wasn't the best of the night, it seemed like her microphone was not high enough or she was not sounding so good or the song was wrong for her or something off, I may need to rewatch it to over analyze that later.

I must admit that Katherine sounded very good last night and if she had performed that well during the actual competition, I may have felt she deserved the title. But she didn't and MY Taylor won, so no complaints here.

This year may have produced the most diverse set of singers. You usually get the standard country and ballad singer, but this year we got a rocker that could really singer, a soul patrol guy and other unique personalities that took the show other places with more entertaining ways to present their songs. Katherine spent a lot of time sitting on the stage and Taylor danced, ran all over the place and even laid on the stage during his performances...definitely something new. More than anything, it was just fun to watch.

"I Wanna Be Da Princess!!"

On her birthday, Brooke was all about wanting to be "da princess". She received about 6 different princess dresses and 15 pair of high heel, play shoes. It was very important for her to be the princess until.........

She opened the "pretty lellow dress" and then she insisted on wearing that. She was very fussy all day, her hair was all over the place and she was like a child in birthday overwhelm. It was important that she spend another ten minutes picking just the right pair of shoes for the "lellow dress".

Then all was well until she opened the Dora bathing suit and grass skirt which, on a day that was getting chilly, was a cold waiting to happen. Not only did she wear this the rest of the day, she insisted on wearing it to bed and most of the next day. I talked her into a bath and took that suit and hid it with a quickness. I hid it so well that I have never been able to find it since.

She saw the picture of the Dora swimsuit as I was writing this and is now all in a fit over it. It started a crying jag that moved from one issue to the next and ended with just crying for the sake of crying. If I could just think of something to make her stop crying for five minutes, it would be such a break for me................ Damn, I wish I could find that sucker!

Pass the Bucket

I cannot even find the words to describe how horrible the flu/vomit/achey body/dizzy illness has been. I feel a little better today, but far from normal.

Ryan started his new job yesterday at the warehouse. He came home after work and said he was so sore and miserable. He was surprised he was that weak because an hour into all the lifting he was hurting all over. Thirty minutes after getting home, he threw up. He said it made him feel a little better to know it was the illness and that he was not a total weakling. He got up and went today at 8am and I cannot imagine how miserable he must be, trying to make a good impression with a new job while being so ill it is hard to stand up.

This weekend we were supposed to celebrate Chase and Lacey's birthday, Bob's twins from his first marriage. They turned the big 18 this week, but we had to tell them what a bad idea it would be to come to the house of horrors. Bob is going to take then to dinner this evening instead and they will not be able to stay this weekend, for their own good.

Last night was so bad as we all lay in the rec room under our blankies, unable to find the energy or strength to even sit upright. My parents had to drop off pull-ups for Brooke(her illness is now uncontrollably coming out the other end), lysol to spray our diseased house, and gatorade for all of us to get some fluid. They refused to come near the inside of our home and called when they pulled up so we could walk out to grab our stuff. Travis, the only one now over it all, was at Kelly's track meet so we had to call them for the goods.

I can't imagine how it would take so long for me to catch this thing, being the next to last to start, especially because Brooke threw up on me twice while hugging my neck during extreme belly aches. I was the puke bucket cleaner and the fever checker...you think I would have been infected before Cassie and Bob. Of course, then I would not have been able to brag that I was, obviously not going to get it...to then get it.

We have never had someone get sick and then have each and every member of the family have it all in the same week. We are saving a fortune on groceries though, because no one can eat anything. I tried a few bites of jello, but my stomach started to scream in pain to stop. My fever is still going strong making me afraid to get a bath today because my bath water must be one degree below scalding temperature and that could be bad for a fever I would think.

We all have cabin fever too, despite being unable to leave anyway. Brooke woke up the other night at 5am, in one of her vivid dreams screaming about going outside to play. I had to walk her out on the front porch to prove it was night time. She was not happy.

Okay, I has reached my limit on sitting. Time to go lay down again.........

illin'

Started last night at about 1230am, too sick to talk about it. Maybe later. :(

Family Rollercoasters

I woke up at 435am to take Cassie to the bus. I told her we would leave at ten til, because we lived two blocks from where we had to go. That gave us a good fifteen minutes to get into an arguement because she has to start running her mouth. I, SOOOOOO, did not want to do that and I try so hard to avoid it, but it is Cassie and she knows just the smartass, wrong thing to say to set you off. This morning it was several things including,"Shut up, Mom, just chill, you were too lazy to worry about it yesterday". Huh???? All I said was lets make sure you have everything and I still have to give you your money.

I only spent the better part of the day, yesterday, trying to help her pack and she said, "Chill, we can do it tonight". I then washed up more clothes, because I am convinced you should always over pack, went to the drugstore to get her all her supplies, ran to the bank for her money and then the grocry store to get her all her favorite snacks for the bus and hotel room. I bought her a new CD player and a big supply of batteries.

When we get to the bus she walks directly to it and boards while I am about 10 feet behind her, carrying her luggage. No good-bye, no 'Thanks, Mom" , no kiss my ass, no nothing. It was like the scene at the end of Rainman, I had to yell for her to tell her to have a great time, I love you and call as soon as you can. I then realized she forgot to grab the blanket for napping on the bus, I sped back home, grabbed it and returned with it as the bus door was just about to close. But, of course, I am lazy.

I drive away fighting tears because I can't believe for all I do for this brat all I get is attitude, and all I want is a decent relationship.

Then this morning at about 1130 I get a call from my brother asking if I had talked to my mom cause my sis is all freaked out by a fuzzy message on her cell phone..all she could make out was, "Its mom, static hospital...static", message ends. He then calls me, I call my other brother to see if she was watching his daughter today, she wasn't. Sis calls back and is still freaking out,no answer on Mom or Dad's cell, she called both hospitals and neither are there, she is totally in a panic.

I start getting worried even though my brother and I know she usually gets things blown of proportion and gets very upset before she knows the whole situation. We decide she had an appointment or something and it is nothing too serious...and yet, my mind starts to wonder. The "what ifs" take over and I start to feel scared. Ten minutes later the phone rings. It is my sis, her voice now calm as she says, "Tricia, she was at the mall". The static was so bad "at the mall", became "hospital" to a spazmania.

Then my Brother calls and said, "Is she freakin' crazy or what??" He then informs me he tells her she is a nutcase and a freak. He sounds mad. I knew he would be that is why when she called to tell me first, I offered to call the OTHER brother instead. Momma didn't raise no fool here.

I am sure she will be tortured for this for years to come, but it did serve a purpose for me. Those "what ifs" make you realize that a call like that can come at anytime, a call that brings bad news concerning someone you love. Maybe I should call my mom and tell her thanks from HER brat.

Next!

Okay this weird, no one can have it at the same time, never ending vomit disease has struck again. Cassie, who is supposed to leave at 5am tomorrow morning for D.C. trip, has been passed the bucket of doom and it sits next to her bed now.

Let's recap. Travis started this on Thursday and Friday, passed the bucket to Brooke for Saturday and Sunday, Cassie is the new holder for Monday and Tuesday. I am so scared of Wednesday.

Bob, Ryan and I are the only ones left and you can see the pressure mounting as we all fear if the cycle will continue. I am thinking it will pass me by because I took my turn last night. I dreamt I was vomitting throughout the night, would wake up, check the bed, see it was dry and realize I have been around this stuff for too many days when it actually starts to invade your dreams.

Ryan has orientation for his new job today. He woke up late, misplaced his driver's license and didn't have time to shave. I'm so proud that my unorganized, chaotic ways will continue in the next generation. Everyone says it always skips one. Or is that diabetes? Anyhow he starts his job tomorrow.....the dreaded Wednesday!

On a totally different note, that has nothing to do with puke, I am thinking about getting several inches of my hair cut off or at the very least getting an actual haircut that would include a style other than, "just hanging there doing nothing". It is like a toss up everyday...what will it do, which side part will work best, will it frizz or be flat, and will it look so bad I will have to put it up and have it look even worse. I just don't have time to worry about it anymore. I am so busy all day with so many other things, important things, like cleaning up after sick kids.

I'm really nervous about losing too much length because I did that once and became invisible. I decided I had enough of the long hair, got it cut in a short bob and then realized no one really "looked" at me anymore. The funny part is I usually hate when men give you that checking you out kind of stare...but when it totally disappeared, I felt ugly, undesirable and all kinds of icky things.

*******************NEWS FLASH**********************

It is 905am and Bob has just walked in the door. He left work because he puked all over the water plant. This is so nerve-racking. Four down, two to go and I am one of the TWO!! Hold me, I'm so scared............

Mother's Day..HA!!

As the mom, you know, the vomit cleaner, maid, laundry doer, pep talker, boo boo fixer upper, dinner maker, stay up all night with sick kids-er, toilet scrubber, and do every other damn thinger, none of my kids, not one, remembered their mommy on Mother's Day. Well that is not entirely true, one did, but he did not actually come out of me.

Chase, my son's good friend remembered. He showed up at the door at about 6 pm last night with card in hand, gave me a big hug and said "Happy Mother's Day!". He always called me his second mom and spent a lot of time at our house. The card called me a remarkable woman and he signed it, "From your favorite son, Chase". Come to think of it, he IS my favorite son.

I remember once when we lived at the other house, I was trying to peel off an old border in the living room. It was a nightmare. No matter what I used to try and get this shit off, it came off in dime-sized pieces. He grabbed a chair, a spray bottle and went to work with me as my lazy family sat around watching TV and playing games on the computer. God, I adore him!

Puke Fest 2006 seems to be winding down as Travis and Brooke both went puke-free for the day and no one else started. I was so anticipating that I would get it that if my insides made even the smallest grumble..I was all in a panic. I now feel that after being exposed for five days and nothing happened, I should be pretty safe. Of course my feelings have a funny way of being completely WRONG more often than not.

Oh, and to all my mother friends, Happy Belated Mother's Day. Here's to another year of the most wonderful, tedious, insane, fabulous job in the world.

And You Wonder Why I'm Nuts...........

Yesterday we moved Ryan home from college. His bags of acquired stuff still sit on the covered back patio. There was no time to sort through it all because we had to get Travis, the vomitting wonder, ready for prom.

It is not like when I went to prom 20 some years ago, it is like an all day event now that starts in the morning with picking up the flowers, the gum and the cameras. By afternoon he realizes he has no black socks and they forgot to put his cufflinks in the bag. He is leaving at 3pm, this is at 230pm. Bob saves the day by finding a pair in his black dress shoes that we all sniff and determine "do not stink".

Travis must go pick up Kelly, pose for pictures there, then head off to another friend's house where all the kids will gather, the parents will have food and beverages for all and about a hundred other parents will try to park around said house. At 5pm they must be at the high school for the "Grand March" where they are introduced and walk out to cheers, applause and more picture taking. After this, everyone walks outside and comments on how great they all look and then they take some more pictures. Following this, they head to dinner, take more pictures, go to the dance, take more pictures and then stand in line to pose for professional pictutres. This is not just you and your date anymore. Sure they still take that one, but then you get a cute pic with your buddies and then a few more of you and various others...lots and lots of pictures.

I am so caught up in all the events of the day that I forget to eat anything. Right before we leave for the grand march, I get extremely sick to my stomach, worry I have Travis's illness, start an IBS attack, feel fluid leaking out my ear that I determine is blood, freak out, pull myself together and head out.

I was all ready to go out, but then got caught in the rain and my hair was a mess. I had 30 minutes to spare between the ending of the prom activities and the dinner with my friends. I decided to change my shirt, because maybe a different shirt would look better with my messy hair, that I did not feel like trying to repair at this point. After nearly twenty shirt changes, I leave with the shirt I already had on.

I get to dinner late, but am still the first one there cause my freinds are assholes. I sit alone in a smoking room for fifteen minutes til one finally appears, it takes another half hour to forty-five minutes for the rest to get there. Total assholes.

We then head to the bar where the night included a passing out drunk, fights with the bar wench and another fight between some crazy bitch getting implants in two weeks and anyone she could start a fight with at the bar. She was carried out after she tried to clock my brother, a now owner of the bar. Much drama happened before, during and after. You know, the regular bar stuff, people crying, people starting shit, people dancing and people making fools of themsleves while feeling perfectly within their right to do so. Everything seems pretty okay to say or do after five pearl harbors, so who can blame them? I never get into fights, but commonly can be the reason for one and I help passed out drunks get to the bathroom. I'm all about peace, harmony and laughing at others.

Bob shows up around 1230am and tells me Brooke has now caught the vomitting illness. We leave a while later and get home to more vomitting that went on til about 930am this morning. A complete buzz kill. Bob and I both have belly aches and have consumed several tums. We fear we are next and not being able to sleep the entire night is not helping the situation.

Now we must go pick up the van I left at the bar, but Brooke has a fever and is burning up. All the kids are sleeping because Ryan went to a party that got busted by the cops. He escaped and was home about 430ish and told us his story while reminding us that due to finals and this party, he last slept sometime Thursday. I imagine he will wake up sometime tomorrow. Travis was up all night at after-prom and left there for another get-together and Cassie had a sleepover that included little sleep.

I am tired, need to get my van, need to get groceries, need to get about 6 hours of sleep, along with the rest of the house and need to re-evaluate my entire life.

Another fabulous Mother's Day, could I ask for anything more?

Stuff

A few updates.

The friend I had written about who was battling cancer is still battling cancer. He is back to work and taking another round of chemo, this guy is my inspiration. He never gives up and always pushes ahead with hope. I want to be him when I grow up.

SIL paid her escrow for this month. I am both shocked and amazed, but am certain it will be a monthly stress... always. I can only pray she will prove me wrong.

Ryan's last day of school is Saturday. He has an exam at 8am and then he will stay for a party, I will pick him up on Sunday and,more than likely, clean up after that party. I'm thrilled to be getting him back full-time though!

Travis has his prom this Saturday. He is home from school today with suspected food poisoning from a carryout meal he ate last night. Hopefully, he will be feeling good tomorrow and have a great time. I don't think he has missed a day of school in many years, so the boy is hurtin' without a doubt.

Cassie is leaving for D.C. on Wednesday. She is very excited and ready to go. I am secretly terrified she will spend all her money on the first day or lose it all because the child lacks good sense, but I am trying to have some faith.

Brooke is doing well and her vocabulary has greatly expanded. Unfortunately one of her new favorite words is "bitch". Not only does she love saying it, she knows exactly how to use it because she sees Cassie now and says, "Sissy is a BITCH!!!!!!!!!!". We totally blame Cassie, because we don't use that word and Cassie giggles just a bit too much when she says it. If she was saying "shit", Bob and I would take full responsibility...but that is not the case. Verdict: Cassie, guilty as charged.

I'm going out Saturday night for a real night out with my dart buddies. I have not been out for a "real night out" in ages. I predict lots of drinking, inappropriate behavior, dancing, and total embarrassment on Sunday.

It may not happen that way, but one can always hope.

Embarrassing your Kids: Fun or Just Plain Sad?

Last evening we went to see Ryan play in a passing scrimmage. He is so sensitive to my presense anywhere, mostly because I act a fool and embarrass him. It only leaves me one choice in the matter. To act a fool and embarrass him. Not always. I can play grown up too, but they seem to sense my mood and when it is necessary to be on guard for my weirdness.

After the game he was calling up to me in the stands with his favorite whiny comment, " Moooooooooom, I'm hungryyyyyyy!" I told him to throw me the ball if he wanted to eat. He was stupid enough to actually do it. Then he stood there waiting for me to throw it back so he could take it to the locker room and clean up to go out to eat. Silly boy, it isn't that easy. I must fake throw it 10 times and annoy the living shit out of you and then you will get disgusted and walk off. Then and only,then, will I toss the ball your way.

Where did I get this need to torment people and why do I feel I must do it for my own amusement? Maybe it was all the encouragement they gave me when they were young and less likely to be humiliated. We would ride through town and they would beg me to turn up the music, roll down the window, and dance and sing loudly as I drove by people. I was only too happy to do this for them, because I am strange like that. It was hilarious to them until they turned about 10, then I became the biggest source of their embarrassment. You can't encourage behavior that someone finds completing entertaining and then try to pull it away from them when it suits you. Doesn't work that way, my dear children.

Of course I am a complete hypocrit when they are tormenting one another and someone truly gets frustrated beyond belief during the process. I always tell them that when you think you are having fun, but someone else is crying or miserable...it is n NOT fun anymore, so STOP!!
Ryan wasn't crying though and he was merely bordering on misery, so I was within my limits, I guess.

The only issue with it was that when we went to dinner, he mostly acted annoyed by me even when my tormenting stopped three seconds prior to being seated and I wanted to be serious. There lies the sad part. If you piss someone off enough, they are less likely to agree to play nice when you have finished.

As I dropped him off at the dorm, asking if I could come up and clean up, he said , "No!". I hugged him and told him I loved him. He hugged me back and said he loved me too, but in a very "roll his eyes, leave now", kind of way.

As we pulled away I saw a boy struggling to unlock the door with a giant basket of folded laundry as Ryan was walking up behind him. I yelled out the window, "Other boys actually do their OWN laundry here??" He turned and yelled as we drove off, "I can do laundry!! Geezeeeeeeeeeee!!!"

I get this funny feeling he was glad I was leaving. And just beyond my hysterical laughing, I did feel slightly bad. I questioned my behavior, wondering if it was time to slow down on the tormenting where he was concerned, but then I realized........nah, he makes it too fun.

OCD-minus the C

I'm not really compulsive, in fact, I am the opposite of that entirely. I am, however, extremely obsessive, cause now I am convinced I have worms.

The last few weeks my belly has looked more like a 5-6 month pregnant belly than a non-pregnant belly. Like a puppy that has worms with that big belly!! After I read about all these normal people defecating worms and colon build up, it has officially become my new obsession.

It may help to know that yesterday I was searching "swollen abdomen" because I was looking for something that may be causing this belly issue. Bob had come home from work and I asked him to check out my belly, as I pulled my t-shirt tight against it. He shook in fear, looked away and yelled at me for never going to the doctor. He was scared of it, asked where it appeared from so suddenly and told me to seek some type of medical help.

So, I did. The way I seek medical help is to search online cause I am too scared to go to the doctor and truly believe they never fix anything anyway. My search brought up this colon cleansing website, among a ton of other serious/non-serious illness type sites. I browsed through the others and decided on this one for my true Dx. Mostly cause it sounded like the easiest to fix and, actually, did list swollen abs, bloating and a handful of other symptoms I was having, that probably fit 80 other conditions, but I PICKED THIS ONE!!

I AM INFESTED WITH WORMS, PEOPLE!!

The worms and colon build-up have made me tired and fatigued, it has caused me to have to use the restroom way too much, they have made me feel sick, given me frequent cold and allergies symptoms and some other junk it said that I forget now....but it all fit, just like "desperate people trying to sell a product" sites, usually do.

Once my colon is clean and my de-worming is complete I will be healthy and happy. I will lose 2-10 pounds from just the cleansing, I will have beautiful skin, I will have more focus and all my problems will be gone forever!! Except, of course, for my copper-overload issue that I just read about the other day online. I need like five other products to rid myself of that,which I fully intend to do.......

Then, after that and the colon cleanse, I will be all that stuff I said before.

Doctors, foctors...who needs them when I can falsely Dx myself and treat my conditions with things that I decide might work? Same difference.

Now I must go search "obsessive-compulsive disorder, minus the compulsive" and see what I need to buy to fix that. I bet they sell some really cool, expensive vitamin/herb thing for that and I bet it makes you all healthy and happy too. :)

Lists and Worms.

I am 39 now. I remember as a child talking about the year 2000. That I would be 33, it seemed unreal, like it would never happen. But it did and not only did it happen, more years went by and I got older and older. It really didn't bother me much until recently.

I feel old. Having a toddler makes me feel older. I have the patience now, but no energy. I am emotionally a better mom. I do not get overly upset with anything that she does. I am not a screamer where she is concerned and I let the small stuff just roll off my back, because I am old enough to realize it doesn't mean shit.

The physical part, the part that requires endless amounts of energy, walking, playing, running, and maintaining that for 12-14 hours a day, I suck at that. I feel like the one that requires an afternoon nap, that I am not ever going to get. "Mommy chase me!" used to be a game that took five seconds, now I am running like a fool merely trying to actually catch her instead of faking that she is faster than me. There is no faking it now, she is faster than me!

When the boys were young, we used to play outside and I was like a big kid, doing cartwheels, swinging higher than anyone, playing ball and teaching them how to do a flip. Now I sit in the grass with Brooke and when she runs she gets a thirty second head start, cause that is how long it takes me to try and stand up again. I'm so out of shape and that is a bad thing because I don't have the freakin' time or energy to change that. The scariest part is wondering if I even have the youth left to change it. Cause, damn, I gettin' old.

My downfall began when I stopped working in the fast-paced, run yourself ragged, laboratory. I rarely had a chance to sit down. Now my job's only real physical requirement is to be able to lift a phone to my ear. Some days that seems like too much work. After all, mommy chase me can be an exhausting game, ya know?

So, for these and other reasons I have decided to stress myself out further with a "to do list". I only have ten months to complete them all, cause it is a "before I turn forty" list. OMG, I am going to be 40 in 10 months!!! How did this happen? (breathing....)

I want to stop smoking, get in shape, eat right, and possibly work on not being depressed most of the time. Hopefully, the first three will have some major impact on the last one. It is a tall order, especially for me, but a girl can try. I should also work on my denial and stop calling myself a girl, as in young.

I went to some very creepy site today about colon cleansing, because apparently it can change your life. I may order it when I get through all this prom/D.C. trip expense. I want to change my life and if a clean colon will do it, I'm game. The site is , http://www.drnatura.com/, and you just HAVE to look at the icky junk that comes out, under picture gallery. The testimonials are a funny read too. These people pass foot long worms and are so pleased. I get that you are glad to have them out of your body, but if I pass giant worms, I may need extra therapy for that trauma. But, hmm......I should add that to my "before I turn 40" list.

De-worm yourself. Done.



.

Thump, Thump..

I have a headache. The kind of headache that feels like your eyeball is being popped out with pressure and all around it, as anything or one makes noise, lights come on, you move ever so slightly, it thumps and pulsates in massive headache pain. It sucks.

Brooke decided to have one of those tantrum things over wanting the fence unlocked so she could run wild and I would have to chase her out of traffic and danger. Since moving about that much seemed like the worse of two evils, I opted to leave the gate locked. In return, I got 45 minutes of loud, crying, tantrum, top of her lungs, screaming. I hugged her and tried to act calm, hoping it would telepathically be sent to her, this calm, under-reacting thing. After the long tantrum, by head was thumping spazz-mania-ish and I swallowed several tylenols which I can now taste and I find quite unpleasant, but the thumping is now a dulled tapping on my temple and eye socket. An improvement, at least.

All the chaos has sent me into IBS hell, which occurs most everyday and forces me to go racing to a bathroom about twenty times a day. As if the whole condition was not bad enough, it forces me to spend more time in the bathroom than most anywhere else and while sitting there, a girl ponders about many things. Mostly, how the hell can I keep producing this much, well, shit?? And, if the previous day I have been here twenty times, how do I make enough to go twenty more today? What the hell is wrong with my body, if it had to excel at anything, why did it have to be overproduction of , well, shit!!??!!

There are other unpleasant side effects to IBS. There are cramps, vomit like belly aches, dizziness, exhaustion, dehydration, feeling like you must have a restroom close by at all times, urgency, hemorrhoids, embarrassment, and pain. As bad as these side effects seem, the worst has to be the fact that you start making it part of your daily conversations. Like anyone gives a shit about your shit, you talk to friends and family and start giving them a rundown of how many times you had to go and how bad it hurt that seventh time and how you were in line at the bank and you had to race out and get home immediately and then barely made it and on and on. You become a freak and start believing it is totally acceptable to introduce bathroom habits in normal conversation, because you spend so much of your life dealing with your restroom habits.

I've tried having long conversations with my large intestine. I have reasoned with it, begged, pleaded for some type of normalacy or even a night of not having to worry when I leave the house, but it doesn't listen. It just proves that you can't count on anything that is full of shit.

So, I apoligize to everyone and anyone that I bored with my IBS stories. That is not to say I will not do it again, cause you know I will, but incase you are interested in something a bit different today, I have a killer headache that I am ready to talk about, in length, with anyone that calls.

Why do I get the feeling that no one will be calling?

Sylvia Brown's Book

I was looking through a still, unpacked box from the move. Yes, it has been two months, but unless it had my overnight heavy duty pads or some sort of food I crave at 2 am, some boxes did not seem urgent to unpack immediately. Anyhow, this one had some books in it and I was bored. I found a few books my aunt had given to my mother to drop off to me. One was the story of psychic, Sylvia Brown.

Thought I did not read the entire book, I skipped about looking for the good parts, like when you get a good, steamy novel and scout the pages for words like throbbing manhood, nipple, or anything remotely sexual to just to get to the good part already. I found a section where her spirit guide, Francine, describes "the other side" in great detail. Apparently, it is on Earth, but on a different plane and we can come back and live as many lives as we choose or stay there for eternity, among other options, such as becoming a spirit guide, etc.

Time is different there. When you are living for eternity, 100 years of earth time is like a blink of an eye. She explained that when you lose a loved one, your reunion, if 50 years on earth, is a very short time to the one waiting for you. Everyone is 30 years old and you can look anyway you wish when you arrive. There are parties and social gatherings. There are no bad or negative emotions and when you reach the other side, the knowledge of everything makes you even have positive feelings and deep understanding of your worst enemies. You can marry your soul mate, but being faithful is not necessary. Sex is called merging and it is 100 times better than any orgasm on earth.

She was asked why anyone would wish to come to earth if everything there was 100 times better, the flowers, the scenery, the love. She said it is part of the knowledge and lessons you must learn in eternity. You come to earth to experience negativity and to learn lessons in this plane that are not learnable ( is that a word, oh well) on the other side, since nothing negative exists there.

It goes on and on with the explanation and I think it was supposed to be comforting and it may have been if I was like, 97, but I'm not. Now I wonder why I have to wait for all that great stuff, when I could be having orgasms with whomever I wanted and strumming guitar with John Denver. I bet I could even learn to play it well there. Of course it all could be a load of horse doodies, but geeze, it sounds good.

Now it has totally broken any motivation I had to do better, because all the really good is there. No fair! I probably took it all wrong and should feel inspired to find the good stuff here, love thy neighbor, live as they do on the other side, start freaking people out with book material written by Sylvia Brown, but instead I feel bummed out and even sad because I actually would not care if this life was all there was, now that would certainly inspire and motivate me more!

I need to not read that book anymore and go back to the steamy novels, sitting up late at night, leafing through the pages for bad words. I was happier then.

Labor of Love.

I, again, witnessed one of my biggest pet peeves in the convenient store the other day. Mothers telling a, soon to be, mom horror stories about labor. You know, labor, the thing this poor girl has never been through, the thing that has nothing to do with yours, the thing you should share with someone that you cannot scare the b'jesus out of in a grocery mart!

Even when one of these naive, young moms-to-be ask me directly about it, I tend to minimize the drama of it all. Stress the fact that "everyone is different" and "it is so worth it, no matter what". I always throw in a "You will do fine, your body takes over, it knows what to do".

I was pretty lucky in that area. All four were natural births and the longest one was eight hours, six and a half of which I labored in my mom's house because the stupid nurse said that if was just my back that was hurting, it may be the start of labor, but I should wait until the pain squeezes around to the front before coming to the hospital.

That was my first labor, with Ryan, nineteen years ago. Speaking of nineteen, that was my age and I was clueless as to what to expect, so I pretty much did as told.

It started at noon that day,this horrid back pain that throbbed and got worse and then got better again, to only get worse again. The cycle continued and by 5 pm, I told my mom I would go lay down and wait for Ralph, my first husband, to get home from work. I really went up to her room because the pain was earth-shattering now and I thought I had a long way to go and did not want to be seen as a "big baby" this early in the process. I screamed into pillows as each contraction peaked, so as not to be heard and to not ruin my cover as strong, brave and pain tolerant.

When Ralph arrived at her house at 615pm he came up and found me there, looking kind of whacked and seeing in my eyes that we may need to go to the hospital NOW. I told him they had not come around to the front, but after some discussion, we decided to go anyway.

My family was all downstairs getting ready to eat supper, they tried to warn me that I would just be sent home, it was not time yet. As I walked out the front door, I got another back contraction so strong that it sent me, involuntarily, into a squatting position. We drove to our apartment a few blocks away to get my bag, just in case, where I again squatted involuntarily every 45 seconds.

Upon arriving at the hospital, they learned it was my first baby and took their sweet time asking me questions about my religious preference, medical history and junk I thought I had already answered... already! It was about 640pm by now and still, after being there for ten minutes, no one had checked me. A nurse came in and put the monitors on me and assured me I would be checked very soon.

Very soon meant twenty-five minutes later when an intern and a nurse arrived and asked how I was feeling, being very low key and nonchalent until............the nurse pulled her hand out, gave him a surprised look, he inserted his and said, "Time to go to the delivery room!!!". And out they both ran.

I grabbed the phone, called my mom, who was still chewing on a mouthful of dinner,

"Mom, it's me"
"Are they spending you home now?"
"No, they are sending me to the delivery room"
(Hyper nurse returns, tells me to hang up, I am 10 cms and should be pushing by now, as she waits for me to hang up while making spastic movements to hurry, hurry , HURRY!!)
"Mom, I have to go now, they are here to take me."
"Okay, we will be there after I clean up dinner, this could take all night, they could still send you home, ya know..."
"Ummm, bye mom...."

So, I am off to the delivery room or as I remember it the "push til you pop each vein in your head" room. That first one takes some serious push time, but by 802pm, there was my son. My precious little Ryan in my arms. The family all made it in time, just in time, and within thirty minutes we were back in my original room.

They wheeled him in, with that striped white and blue cap on his tiny, little head. It was silent as as we all looked at him, with excitement, love and anticipation. No one's life would ever be the same. His life would make it better, this tiny 8lb 3oz'er would change everything.

So,those crazy bitches want to talk about pain and horror, when it is really all about this.............

Yeah, so worth it...

KIDS!!!!!!!!!!!

Somedays having kids feels more like a punishment for all your past sins. Judging from yesterday, I was very bad.

Brooke was chanting, "Mommy, hold ya!!" all day, even if I was, in fact, already holding her. She put herself to sleep, still saying it, late last night. She did take a nap from 1030-noon yesterday since she had only gotten about five hours the night before. When she woke up, she ran to me, telling me how she slept in Sponge Bob's house. Then she spent the next two hours crying because I would not put her through the TV to go back to his house. Apparently in the dream, that is how she got there.

Travis had to make banana bread for his food class. He asked me to help him make it, but why I have no idea, because he yelled at me and treated me like crap the entire time. He was mixing dry ingredients into the wet ingredients before all the wet ingredients were in the bowl. The kitchen was covered in flour, the bread turned out all doughy and it tasted quite nasty too. He went to bed mad at me because I tried to explain the importance of following the recipe.

Ryan called, obviously, to get his stress out on someone safe, his mom. He called and yet every time I spoke he acted like he was being interrogated and answered or replied back with attitude, impatience and sighing. Then after three minutes of that, he asked if he could hang up now.

Cassie was in her normal mode of singing, yelling and fussing over nothing. When I asked her to quiet down, she screamed back tens times as loud as she was previously. Again, yelling about me yelling at her. Except I actually didn't yell and it only got worse as she went into the whole saga of me picking on her, being mean to her and yelling at her for no reason. I did not argue about it or respond in anyway, hoping that if she was just fighting with someone that said nothing, maybe she would stop. She didn't.

On AI, my future husband Taylor, sang a wonderful song, to me, to end the show. Katherine f'ed up her first song, Chris was good as usual and the professor and Mary Ann were okay, or whoever, I don't care about them. Randy was not dawgin' much, Simon was his usual pleasant self and Paula was hammered, but with bed head this time. Brooke sang "Mommy, hold ya" as backup through about 90% of the show.

The lack of appreciation, the mommy abuse, and the chaos could have really ruined the whole day if Taylor had not sang to me. Good thing he did.

Disappearance of SIL From Hell

It is such a predictable thing. The assholes of the world, that when they can get something out of you, they ALWAYS seem to be around. When the times comes that they are required to do something for you or owe you something, such as late escrow payments, they disappear.

It makes me wonder about her whole drunken, say inappropriate things to my 13 year old daughter, walk around town telling stories about us taking her house and the other things she did that would certainly come back to us. Was this her plan?? Did we fall right into it? In some sober moment when her mind was off drinking and saying nasty, filthy things, did a lightbulb go off that said, ruin relationship with the people that helped you for the last two years so that you have an excuse to be out of their good graces, to not be speaking, to NOT have to pay what you owe.

The fact that she has not tried to call and beg for forgiveness, try and make amends over the situation and blame her divorce leads me to believe this is exactly what she wanted. She doesn't go away this easy...she never goes away. Not until now, the time when she owes us part of the payment. The fact that she owes that part each and every month and will, obviously, not be making it now.

To think I actually started feeling bad about it. How she hadn't called, chalking it up to "She definitely knows she crossed the line and now she cannot find a way to make up for something that bad. How hard that must be.". I am such a fool! She did it, planned it, wanted to cause some sort of break off to get out of her responsibilites. She came that night on a mission. As bad as she generally is, she was worse that night, singing, monopolizing the whole night with loud,inappropriate talk, singing, spilling beer....she knew exactly what she was doing. She was laying the tracks to fuck us over!!!

When you are young and naive, you think everyone has a chance in life. A chance to be fixed, get better, do better and just like in a movie, change their ways for the better and live happily ever after. Then you grow up and realize that neuro-pathways are very hard to re-route and that some people are not only unwilling to change, but are so bad that change, is quite possibly, impossible.

I cleaned for her, listened to her cry and bitch about her miserable existance at 7am, 3am, and all hours inbetween. Her problems were always bigger, people were always out to ruin her life and she was always worse off and in more need than anyone else...according to her. I invited her and welcomed her into my home when no one else would give her the time of day. In the final act, I pay dearly. I guess it is true what they say...........
no good deed goes unpunished.