Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, Knees and Toes - 11/19/2007

The inventor of the annual female exam MUST have been a man. Who else could come up with this stuff? Men, just turn around. Click the "back" button. No need to go further. Women plumbing is not for you.

I call this my "annual overhaul." I work in a place where the all the equipment gets checked and serviced every time it goes out the door, but once a year, the motors must also have an "annual overhaul." On the calendar at work, it said "Kaaren in late; Annual Overhaul."

I have never been a fan of this exam, but have never really had any horror stories. I have been blessed with really great doctors. I have two actually that I use; my regular practitioner (who I call Egon)

and my OBGYN, who I will call Theresa, as she is a saint. They are in separate offices. Egon's staff are the ones who did Jake's toe. My OBGYN was booked through December, so I scheduled my appointment at my regular doctor's office and got the new nurse to do the job.

The new chair almost had me laughing aloud. It was a regular old chair and next thing I know, it's an inverted U and I'm all over the place. It was possibly the best annual exam, as far as these go. I felt not a darned thing. And the new nurse practitioner was SOOOOO NICE. She gets an A+.

Let's fast-forward to this morning. I have another exam to do. This one involved drinking 32 ounces of water before arriving. I did so, got to the office early, and sat in the waiting room. And waited. And Waited. And Waited. I would like for you to measure out 32 ounces of water, drink it in a half hour period and then not pee...for 2 & 1/2 hours. I was crying, really crying, in the waiting room. I felt like such a fool, but I have never had my bladder this full in my LIFE. I was hyperventilating. I was convincing my self to be calm, while also convincing myself to forget this crap, cancel the appointment and just go pee. It was the worst feeling I have ever had.

The receptionist saw me crying and said "We'll be right with you." Five minutes and I am in the exam room. Fifteen MORE torturous minutes and I am finally allowed to use the rest room.

Go, drink 32 ounces. Let me know how it goes for you. *gag*

Raise You Hand if EW! - 10/20/2007

My poor, poor boy has had an ingrown toenail for a while. Months. We thought nothing of it, even when he would YELL if anyone accidentally stepped on his toe, or he hit his toe on something. Even then, I thought "Overreact much?" Then, Isabel stepped on it, and pus came out. That caught my attention. I scheduled an appointment with my doctor (Jake & Iz's doc moved to Apopka, way too far away for us).

The first visit was pretty much just to say, yea he needs to have that cut off by our doctors, please pay your $25 co-pay. We scheduled "surgery" for 3 days later (please pay another $25 co-pay. Losers.)

On Friday, the 4 of us went to the doc (David brought him from school because I was not driving from work in Seminole county, to get him in Volusia county, to take him back to Seminole county for the appointment).

Let me preface this by saying, Jake's dad is an $%^&+*. (I don't care who reads this; you know who you are!) WHY the heck would anyone tell their child about to have surgery "You make sure they knock you out. I had that surgery and it was the worst pain in my life. The needle they stick in your toe to numb you hurt like hell. The worst pain I ever felt!" Who does that?!?!? He is not your "buddy," he is your son. Your job is to protect him, not scare the crap out of him. SERIOUSLY.

That's what I was dealing with as I went into the room with him; terror. He started to freak a little, and I told him: "The thing about pain is, you have to breathe through it. You cannot freak out. You have to breathe and stay calm. Freaking out is only going to make it last longer. Just get through it and it will be done." He asked me when did I become a Zen Master.

The doctor came in (she was 12, Indian, pretty and sweet). She explained the procedure while Jake tried not to hyperventilate. When it came time to numb the toe, they placed a rubberband tight around it, and then stuck a 20 gauge needle into his toe, to slowly push in the medicine. I turned my back to them, looked at Jake, held his hand and told him to relax and breathe. I could tell he was in pain. They numbed one side, then it was time for the other. The return of some feeling to my hand led me to believe that the first shot was working. Jake was afraid that he would feel them cutting into his toe and voiced that fear aloud. That's when I told him that they were injecting him a third time. He had no idea.

Last time he had to have an injection to numb something was in Kindergarten. He sliced his finger open & needed stitches. As the doc was putting the injection in his finger and Jacob screamed bloody murder, the room looked a little too white and bright. A nurse said "Mom, are you o.k.?," sat me down on a chair and shoved my head between my knees.

So, yea, the room is getting a little whiter and man, it's hot in here. MY doctor walks in to help out 12-year old doctor. He sees me and says "Are you o.k. mom?" I laugh and sit down.

Jake was listening to his music on his MP3 player so he did not hear the CRACK of the nail coming off, or the doctors laughing about how loud it was. I'm trying to refrain from sticking my head between my knees.

They bandaged the toe before we could see it, showed me the HUGE piece of nail embedded in his toe, and gave us instructions for the next few days.

Intervention - 08/09/2007

My daughter Isabel......has a Gummy Bear Vitamin Addiction.



She loves Gummy Bears, so we bought her vitamins in Gummy Bear shapes. She can get 2-4 a day. She usually plays us; she'll ask David for some, and then later she'll ask me for some. We have to coordinate our Gummy Bear dole-age.

Today David calls me at work laughing. This morning he let Isabel pick the gummy bears herself from the jar. She reached in and grabbed about 5-6 of them. David tells her "No, no, baby, you only get two." In that moment, her little bear-addicted brain made a split-second decision....



She shoved her entire fist with all 5-6 gummys in her mouth and ran.

Wild at Heart - 12/05/2006

Last Thursday was month-end at work. Last day of the month to bill stuff. My official motto for month-end is "BILL! BILL! BILL!"

It wasn't as stressful as any other day. The usual stress. Around 2 p.m., I am sitting at my desk, when I realize that I can't get my heart to stop pounding. I stop. I start breathing deeply. I cannot get it to stop. The pulse in my neck is pounding. I had no idea what was happening. I was not stressed or irritated that second or those 10 minutes before, for that matter.

The salesman walks in and sees me with my hand to my neck and my eyes closed. "What's the matter" he asks. "I don't know," I told him. "I can't stop my heart from pounding." He goes into protective mode, God love him, and starts hovering over my desk. "Want to go to the clinic? Let's go, I'll drive." I kept reassuring him I would be ok. He made me get up, walk around and kept telling me to breathe. Like a mother hen, he bugged me. He got me a Coke (not sure if that was even right - caffeine?), he hovered some more, offered to take me to the clinic 2 more times, and told me to stop freaking him out.

I kept working and around 4:30 p.m. I realized everything was back to normal. It was SO weird. I REALLY need to calm down (hence the laughing at the bird lady, rather than freaking out). I have been trying real hard & earnestly, to let things slide off my back, slick as goose poop. :)

Now, if I can shake these flu-like symptoms I'm feeling, that'll be great, thanks.

Wild at Heart, Buffy Season 4, episode 6

Sleeper - 11/09/2006

Holy shnikes, I'm tired. Tuck me in, please?

Grandma's back in the hospital, in Puerto Rico. :( The fluid is around her lung again. Her daughter and husband are there, so they will take good care of her, if the hospitals can't.

Um....oh, tomorrow night we're invited to dinner at the neighbor across the street's house. Dang it, I meant to bake something and I forgot. What should I bring?!? Wine (ew)? A pie from Publix?

Speaking of Publix....I GIVE ALREADY!! Gaaahh! I give. I have to shop there. Their bakery, deli, produce and meat departments cancel out the fact that they overcharge for the dry goods. I give UP driving further to a store that doesn't carry snap peas or runs out of celery. Celery! *shrugs shoulders*

Saturday night, we're going to a Barmitzvah for one of the boys in Jake's old Cub Scout group (1st-5th grade). Yay Ben! I am very excited to go. Everyone has something nice to wear, but me. Cause of the fatty fatness & all. I have something to wear, just nothing to write home/blog about. I have never been to a Barmitzvah. I've been to a Bat- but not a Bar.

We're working on The Amityville Window. Wait till you see what we did. We should be done soon. I'd say this weekend, but we have too much to do already.

Veronica Mars season 3 is shaping up to be Buffy Season 4. As in, the season that must not be mentioned. I can't even say that. Buffy season 4 was VERY disjointed as far as the arc went (The Initiative? Spike with a chip? Werewolf chic? Riley with Buffy? Please.), but at least it had some terrific stand-alone episodes. (Something Blue, Emmy-nominated Hush, Who are You, Superstar, Restless). Veronica? Not so much this year. Please let it get better.

Off to finish yesterday's episode of Lost.

Safe - 10/28/2006

My grandparents should have just arrived in Puerto Rico. I booked them a flight for Saturday morning, 8:30 a.m. This meant getting up at 4:30 a.m. They were already up & dressed. I went down in my pj's & started coffee for all of us. I also packed them lunch, consisting of a sandwich each, two fruit cups, some Chex Mix, sugar-free cookies for grandma and regular cookies for grandpa, some spoons and napkins. Grandpa helped grandma down the stairs. I gave them some coffee, and a bowl of cereal each, with some cut-up bananas in it. Jake made himself some oatmeal. Jake came with me to the airport to help. Grandma secretly hands Jake what I think is $20.00 I hear him say "No grandma, it's too much." She shushes him and shoos him away. I later find out it was not $20, it was $40! Then Grandpa slips him a $10. Anyone needing a loan, please see Jake.

I brought the luggage down and loaded the car. David came out to say goodbye to us in the garage. David, who worked late, was staying home with Isabel. We left early, so I drove without any rush or stress. We got to the passenger unloading zone. I searched (and searched) and found a wheelchair. We placed grandma in it. I asked Jake to stand in line at the outside check-in, with grandpa, while I went to the short-term parking lot. I parked and got back to them by the time they called them up.

Tickets in hand, I was about to go in when the Skycap guy yells to me in Spanish to make sure I get a wheelchair pass inside. No clue what that was, but now we had to wait at the INSIDE line. It actually went by fast. I'm thinking they are going to give me...a pass to allow her to be in the wheelchair? No clue. The Delta agent asks me for ID. I hand them my grandparents' id's. She said no, she needed mine. I was confused. She said the pass was for me to be able to go with them all the way to the plane. How cool was that? With all the regulations and restrictions, I thought for sure I would have to drop them off at security and then just watch as my grandpa struggled with a wheelchair, and a large duffel bag. We went through a special security gate for wheelchairs. They scanned the lunch I prepared and had to take out the fruit cups. The fruit cups. They had liquid in them. *sigh* They also took away the toothpaste tube because it was too large. I told grandpa to put all the liquids in the checked in luggage, but forgot to mention the toothpaste.

The 4 of us get in, Jake carrying the duffel bag and I pushing the wheelchair. Quick stop at Starbucks for me and Nathans for Jake (french fries at 7:10 a.m.). We waited right at the gate with them for about an hour. I went to get the grandparents some coffee. They are very picky coffee drinkers. They don't like American. I bought a grande cappuccino (coffee & steamed milk), and a side shot of espresso. I poured the espresso into the cappuccino, added artificial sweetener, and divided it into two cups. "Great Coffee, Kaaren" was their reply.

When they called the flight, we went straight to the front of the line and they immediately started taking grandma down. I had to jump to grab a goodbye kiss from both before they were taken to their seats.

I think about families that have elderly people living with them. I know a couple who have taken care of or still do take care of an elderly relative. Then I read of people with young kids like me, also taking care of their elderly parents or grandparents. My hats off to you. Kudos. Really. From the bottom of my heart, know that I have the deepest respect and admiration for what you do, each & every day.

Tough Love - 10/26/2006

Grandma got out of the hospital this afternoon. My second (or it it third? Second once removed?) cousin Marisol happened to be there. She is my grandma's niece (the size 2). Marisol stayed with them while they checked out and then drove them to my house. My cell phone was grand central station. When are they leaving the hospital? I don't know, I'm at work. When are they flying home? I don't KNOW, I'm at WORK. My boss let me go home early. He was probably as tired of my phone ringing as I was.

I got home and Marisol was feeding them chicken noodle soup, God bless her. I cleaned the kitchen, as it was a wreck. The floor was covered in cookie crumbs. Isabel and my grandparents have about the same coordination, and all 3 were eating cookies, hence the crumbs. I started cooking dinner for Jake & I. Not the same food for my grandparents because they can't eat the same things. I got my grandma changed and into her pj's. I made coffee. I changed Isabel's diaper. I made rice for my grandpa and soup for Isabel. I did more dishes. I swept the floor again. Grandpa asked if I had gone on the internet yet to look at flights. David called & asked me to tape Smallville, oh and had I gone grocery shopping yet.

I went upstairs to put some of Isabel's toys away. In her room, her bed sheets had tons of chocolate spots on it...like she went to bed with a cookie. I changed her sheets. I noticed not one but two days worth of clothes on her dresser. The hamper is 5 feet away, the closet, one. The tags from her new outfit she wore yesterday were still sitting on the dresser. The garbage can, one foot away.

I put my hands to my face and started bawling.

I asked Jake to please start Isabel's bath. He must have heard something in my voice, because not one word, or one huff did I hear. He jumped up and started her bath. Now, I'm off to run downstairs and see if Isabel is done so that I can plunk her in the bath. And tape Smallville. And then put her to bed. And then look at flights on the internet. I might even get a bath. If I can stop crying.

Eternity - 10/25/2006

Grandma wants to go HOME already. Poor thing. Nothing new to report. The doctors are really not telling them WHEN they can leave. Annoying. Here are some pictures:

Grandpa and his two great-grandsons.






Someone got a hold of the painter's tape.


We dressed our girl as a fairy and visited grandma right before bedtime - around 8 p.m. Grandma really enjoyed it.



Tonight, Wednesday, we had a mini-family reunion in the room. 9 people, counting me & grandpa too. David stayed at home w/the kids. It was fun but I forgot the camera. :( OH, and she told my second cousin that she was fat. My cousin's a size 2. LOL!! EVERYONE'S fat.


(Eternity, Angel Season 1, Episode 17)

Life Serial - 10/24/2006

Learned a few things these past few days.

• 
  My grandma only went to school though 4th grade. She said her dad took her out once she learned to write. They didn't want her writing love notes to boys. Abuelo only through 3rd. He's so intelligent. He's self-learned. Abuelo was born in 1923. His mom was 37 when she died - my age. He was 14 and thought she was ancient then.
• 
  My sister Brenda is a rock. She may be a hot head, and quite possibly nuts, but she is a rock. When the chips are down, she is there. She told me she was glad that this happened at my house, because I am so patient and strong. *blows raspberry* Whatever. I was just so grateful she was here. I was so proud of her when, in a blink of an eye, she made a split-second decision to rise above some personal things with other people, for the sake of my grandma. So proud of her.
• 
  The second floor of Fish Memorial is worked on the weekends by only good-looking people. It's true. Ask Brenda.
• 
  Grandma has a funny sense of humor. She grabs grandpa's butt. She hates hospital food, and dang it!! put some salt on this food!
• 
  My grandparents saw a tv show while in Miami about snakes and people who eat snakes. No clue what the show was, but they now insist that Florida is inundated, is teeming, with snakes and we all eat them on a daily basis.
• 
  The same story, after being told a 5th time...not so funny anymore.
• 
  A toddler and an 83 year old together are the Cutest. Thing. Ever. Mrs. Squeaklefritz is enjoying the heck out of abuelo.
• 
  Conspiracy theories are not just for the young.
• 
  Going back to work after one & a half working days off is like...taking a week off. Geezumpete! The piles. The mess. They can't do without me. LOL
• 
  Cafeteria food stinks. Vending machine coffee is putrid. I drove to a local coffee shop to get my abuelo & me some coffee. Alas, abuelo says no one knows how to make coffee in America.
• 
  When YOU are sick in the hospital, how will YOU feel when your son/sister/granddaughter/niece/cousin tells you they are too sick, too tired, it's too far for them to visit you? Will you remember the time YOU were not there for your mom/sister/grandma/aunt/cousin? Remember. Karma's gonna bite you in the arse.
  

(Life Serial, Buffy Season 6, Episode 5)

Helpless pt 2- 10/23/2006

Too tired. Must sleep. Tried to post an update and the flippin computer froze. Too tired to redo. And also tomorrow, Work, gah!

Grandma is fine. One quart of liquid drained from left lung. *EEEssshhhhh* Hospitals seem to suck the energy right out of me.

Helpless - 10/22/2006

Just a VERY quick note. I have not updated because we had an emergency. My grandmother visiting from Puerto Rico was hospitalized Saturday early a.m. (3 a.m.) after our having to call 911 from my house. We're all STILL exhausted and she's still in the hospital.

UPDATE:

It's 11:23 p.m. as I start typing on Sunday night.

My sister Brenda and her son Jonathan were driving up Friday to bring my grandparents for a visit. My grandparents are visiting from Puerto Rico & have been in Florida for a little over a week. They were supposed to come up Thursday night, I was going to take all Friday off work to spend the day with them, hanging out. Then, on Saturday, I was to drive them to Tampa for a birthday party, where my dad would be. He would then take them to his house for a few days.

Plans got changed a bit due to their not being back from visiting my aunt in Miami until Thursday. I went to work on Friday and left at noon. I drove home and they arrived shortly thereafter. The grandparents were tired!! The had just driven from Miami to West Palm the day before, and now drove 3 hours up to my house. That may not seem like a lot to you, but for two 83-year-old people, it's exhausting.

My grandma is this little short lady who can't hear well. She walks really slow and is always laughing. She hugs me and says "My Negrita! (dark girl), you look good. You're fat." *sigh* Yep. I'm fat. Later, my sister Brenda, who had not heard my grandma's comment, came up to me and told me I looked good. I pouted and said that Grandma said I was fat. Brenda starts cracking up and said, "Listen to what she told me. She said 'Brenda! You're so fat!! No wonder your husband bought that new trailer out front. So he can haul your big butt in it'." Brenda proceeds to crack up and told me not to feel bad. Everyone's fat.

I cooked dinner for all of us (my sister Brenda & nephew were spending the night as well) and we all relaxed and hung out. Grandpa asked Brenda to send his daughter (our aunt) a "computer telegraph." Hee hee. An e-mail. He doesn't know what it's called. He was very adament that Brenda send the telegraph now! because Aunt Carmen was leaving the office soon. Brenda tried to explain (again) that e-mails don't go anywhere, and Aunt Carmen can check them from home or work anytime. But he insisted, so Brenda sent the computer telegraph.

Grandma wanted to visit her grandkids (7 of us) and her great-grandkids (5). She just decided out of the blue 3 weeks ago, so they came. That day, Friday, Grandma did not make it upstairs until it was time for bed. She's had fluid in her left lung for at least 2 months now. The medical system in Puerto Rico is horrible. They've asked for the lung to be drained, but they said no, not until we run a CT scan. They went for a CT scan and have been awaiting the results....for 4 weeks. Four weeks of being out of breath and tired. They call & no one will tell them anything.

David & I gave my grandparents our bedroom. The guest room right now consists of a mattress on the floor, and there's no way they are getting up & down off the floor. J's bed is WAY too high for grandma to get on. Even my bed was a little difficult for her. She showered and Brenda helped her to bed. Last I remember, the boys, J & Jonathan, were playing DDR, Brenda was on the computer, and the grandparents were in bed as was Mrs. Squeaklefritz, who happilly went to bed at 8:30 p.m. after being serenaded by her great-grandpa playing guitar. I went to sleep in the guest room at around midnight.

At 2:00 a.m., Brenda wakes me to say that we need to take my grandma to the hospital. She was downstairs (?) and was having chest & back pain. Her face hurt too. It was not a stroke though; she was speaking clearly and had full motor function on both sides (Yay, CPR/First Aid Class). Also, Brenda's been studying for...6 months (?) for Medical Assistant and starts her externship on Monday. I head downstairs and grandma's on the couch. Her heart was beating erratically, her pulse was through the roof, and she said her chest hurt. I call David to see where he was - I did not want to leave the kids alone. He said he was just pulling in the driveway. I called 911 and proceeded to give them the wrong street - I told them we lived on "Avenue" rather than "Drive." David heard me & corrected me. I was nervous. As I'm calling 911, Grandma throws up. Brenda's tending to her and I'm running upstairs to get dressed. The Fire/Rescue team arrived first, in 5 minutes. Very nicely done Oh County of Mine. They were followed by the EMT's about 4 minutes after they arrived. The EMT's put her on a gurney and we (Brenda, Gramps and I) followed them to the Hospital. Florida Hospital Fish Memorial is about 9 miles away from my house in Orange City. They admitted her to the ER. I sat in the empty waiting room while Grandpa, with Brenda translating and helping calm him, went to give them her information. Grandpa was nervous and when he gets nervous he ... overreacts? No, that's not what I am trying to say. He gives too much detail, too much information that boggs things down. Brenda & I were trying to be quick & concise back at the house so we can get her the heck out of the house and to the hospital. They would ask a question about her medical history. No one knows her better than grandpa, but he would want to go into everything that happened with her, when all that was required was a "yes" or "no." Poor guy, I can't blame him, but we just wanted to hurry up. They asked what kind of medication she was on and he pulls out this HUGE make-up style bag FULL of medicine. Everything from stool softener, heartburn medicine, aspirin, to the real meds. Way too many. I tried looking through it briefly, but had no clue and just handed the huge bag to one of the EMT's, after removing the stool softener. :)

So, back to the hospital. We got there at 3 a.m. At 5 a.m. Brenda came out & told me to take gramps home for a nap and breakfast and then come back. She would stay with grandma. We came home at 5:15-5:20 and slept until 8:30 a.m., when Isabel woke me up. Breakfast made, kids fed, I woke David up at 10:30-ish to tell him we were leaving soon, as visiting hours started at 11:00 a.m. Brenda had since called to tell us that grandma was stabilized and in a room. We left at 10:45 and were in the hospital room from 11:15 or so until 7:30 p.m. MAN, hospitals are draining.

It's 11:59 on Sunday and I am SO tired. There's more to tell, but it'll have to wait. I am taking off tomorrow from work to take care of grandma at the hospital.

(Helpless, Buffy Season 3, Episode 12)

The Puppet Show - 09/23/2006

Well, I'm mad. We have our annual insurance enrollment time at work. If you need to make any additions or changes to our health, dental or vision plans, now is the time to change. I'm having some toast and a cup o' joe while I am reading the forms. THEY have decided that they don't think we need vision coverage or orthodontia coverage (braces) for children in our company. As a mother of a toddler and also a 12 year old who a) wears glasses and b) needs braces, I am extremely mad. Braces alone run $3-4k and our current plan only covers $1500 of that. I still would have had to pay out-of-pocket expenses, but NOW we have to pay the whole thing. Apparently, those who decided this, must not have kids. My son is due for his eye appointment too. This really stinks. They act like they are doing us a favor by not having this. They might be for the non-kid-having sect, but not me! This will deter a lot of people from giving their kids the braces they need. Mom was poor and we did not have insurance growing up (thanks dad), so none of us got braces. Vicky ended up getting braces at like age 29 or 30. My lower teeth could use a straightening, but I don't care. Thanks, oh wise company, for making us parents have to go in hock to fix our kids teeth and be able to help them, you know, SEE in class. Boo! A pox on you!

Inca Mummy Girl - 09/21/2006

Seriously. When will I ever use this title? Never. LOL So, a random title for a random blog.
Let's say you have to get out of the car after you have parked it, but you need to walk around and get something out of the passenger seat; something bulky or whatever. Do you walk around the front of your car? Or do you swing around the back? I go around the back and I DON'T KNOW WHY!! It's so weird. I catch myself doing it all the time. I would think going around the front would be quicker (shorter front end than tail), but I still go around the back. Did my mom instill in me a fear of walking in front of cars? Am I trying to get more exercise?(psshhhyea, right) No clue, but I find it weird.

Tomorrow I'm going to get re-certified for CPR & First Aid. A whole day out of the office. Yay! So, if I'm ever around and you're...say..gagging, I'm your gal.

What else, what else. Oh yeaaa....yesterday, I'm changing our girl into her pj's. There's a mirror on her changing table, so she's looking at herself as I take off her shirt. (I typed shity - LOL my fingers were on the wrong keys!!) So, she points to her teeeeeeeny little baby nip and says "Booby!" I just stare and say "What did she say?" Jake's laughing out in the loft and says "Yea, David taught her that today." Nice.

The Gift - 08/16/2006

*sigh* Hello. This post is gross. I'm warning you. Damian, just walk away from the screen. Right now.

Little Miss Cranky McCrankin was ...yes...cranky today. We could not figure out why. She was just not happy and not eating. Not even her "Fiiiish" (Goldfish crackers), which are her favorite right now.

I get home from work and start cooking dinner. J's watching TV, "I" is whining and walking around the kitchen. Then, she leaves to go upstairs. David is up there, so I am fine with that. About 2 minutes later, she starts crying and whining "Mommy, mommy, mommy," and crying some more. I go to see what is wrong and discover her, on the 3rd step up. Just standing there crying. And on each of the three steps, poop. Runny brown poop. I scoop her up and head up stairs. I yell for David to get the tub going. I place her on her changing table. Bad idea. Stuff was oozing out everywhere. The terrycloth pad cover is covered. She's crying. David's got her legs up while I wipe and maneuver the 50 pound liquid poop diaper away from her thrashing legs. Fun! Dinner's beeping. Water's boiling and J is downstairs yelling what should he do. I stop, run down stairs, wash my hands, take dinner out of the oven, pour the rice in the boiling water and run back upstairs. By this time, David has "I" in the tub and is washing her down. She is miserable and does not want to be there. Her poor butt has booty-burn. I run and start the laundry, throwing in the soiled socks, shorts and changing pad cover.

We get her out of the tub. I yell down for "J" to set the table and David heads down to start cleaning the stairs. My girl and I went to her room to dry her & dress her. I covered her butt in the stinky white cream and got her dressed. I asked her if she wanted to get down. She whines "Noooooooo." I asked her if she wanted to play. She whines "Noooooo." I ask her if she wants Mommy to hold her. She almost starts to say no, and then she just mumbles something. I said "If you want Mommy to hold you, you have to say yes." She whines "Yeeeeeeesss." So, I hold her and we sit on the couch in the loft, me rubbing her back, she with her head on my chest. One minute later, she's running for one of her baby dolls and is happy. *sigh* I go to my bedroom, look in the mirror and discover that my dress has poop on it.

Dinner was fine, (I changed into shorts & a T-shirt) we had to change her diaper 2 more times in one hour, and I went back to re-clean the carpet with this pet stain remover that I bought once-upon-a-time when J threw up in the car on our way up to Lookout Mountain one winter. What is it with me & my projectile-emitting kids?

I'm pooped. *parum pum*

Listening to Fear - 07/26/2006

Hello There,

Long time no talk. We've just been working & living. J's been with his dad's side of the family and I had a minor scare yesterday & today. I called his dad to talk to J. The call went straight to voice mail. I call J's big brother. That call went straight to voice mail. So, I call Jake's grandpa Al. Al has not heard from them and he's mad - it's 7:23 p.m. and they were supposed to be there at 7 for dinner (all 3 of them; J, his dad & brother). J's dad called Al to see if they could come over for dinner. Low on $$ and all. So Al says yes, and they are late. I ask Al to have J call me when he gets there.

9:30 p.m. I call Al. They still have not arrived, and both the phones are still going to voice mail. I was both furious and scared. I did not give J his cell phone this visit because his dad ended up keeping it for a week to use as his personal phone the last time J was with him, and let me tell ya..I am NOT funding my ex-who-has-not-paid-child-support-in-three-years and his phone needs. I left more messages. I called again at midnight and left even angrier messages involving missing persons and police.

6:30 a.m. Voice mail on both cell phones again (J's dad and J's brother). I am now imagining (a) a scene involving ditches and paramedics and (b) a scene involving my ex absconding with both boys and (c) my ex taking the boys to the beach or something and not telling anyone. Scenario A was first & foremost on my mind. I call Al in tears at 7:30 and he promises to go by J's brother's apartment. He goes, and sees no cars there. He leaves and calls me to say he'll start calling local hospitals. I am at work and am shaking. Al calls back and says "J is fine. I thought it was weird that both cars were gone. Greg and little Greg don't hang out. They went off in different directions, so I went back to the apartment and knocked on the door. J peeped his head out a side window (good boy for not opening the door) and said 'Hi Grandpa!'" At which, I started bawling again and asked to speak with him. Mr. Nonchalant thought I was utterly insane for crying and was fine. He left with his grandpa back to his house.

Too much drama for this mama. I'm thinking of getting a parental block phone for J. He can only make calls to me, and 2 or 3 other phones I preprogram.

Off to happier subjects: I....am a hottie. Yes, yes. I know, shocking? David took our girl to work with him yesterday. He & I work less than 3 miles away from each other, so I was to go get her after I got off. He got there early to show her off to his new manager. I arrive, all spiffy because our VP had come to visit the branch that day. I am in my Anne Taylor turquoise shirt that I love, my brown Wentworth slacks, and my wonderful brown/turquoise shoes that I blogged about a few months back. LOL Anywhoo, I meet the new boss, pick up my girl and leave.

Today, David tells me of a conversation he & his boss had. He said something to the effect of: "Wow. David, you did GOOD." And then something about them being average Joe's and he hopes he could get someone like me too. *snort*
So, yea. Hottie.

What's My Line Pt. 1 - 07/17/2006

Just got back from a mini-vacation. Took a 4 day weekend off to go visit my sisters in West Palm. But first...PICTURES!! I cannot even remember what pictures I said I would post though.

Here's the bedroom and the blinds. See how the color of the bedroom changes in light? What a pain. Oh & the new ceiling fan in our room that David installed.

Man, seriously dark storm outside right now. So if this Blog seems to end mid-sentence, it's because my power went out or the computer froze. Miracle Mrs. Squeak can sleep with all the racket going on outside.

Speaking of racket, we heard the space shuttle sonic booms this morning around 9 something a.m. They sounded more like thunder than booms.

Back to my weekend. We WERE going to a family reunion, and had put a $50 deposit down for it last year. When we did so, we had not even thought of buying a new house. Then in January, we put the $$ down on this lot, and the rest is history. Had we driven up to PA, and spent the $$ on the food and lodging, etc., we would have spent about $1k. We really wanted to go to the reunion, but we did not feel comfortable spending more $$. We have a larger house with TWO AC units, which equals humongous light bill. I'm skeert, so we decided not to go. We luckily did not have to pay anything extra, just the $50 deposit, which is fine with me. Not their fault we had to bail at the last minute.

As I still had the time off, we decided to head to West Palm. We stayed with my sister Brenda (the one who came up here to help me move stuff into the U-Haul). Saw one of my best friends, Kelli Kelli Elliot, went to Bed Bath & Beyond and got my comforter set (Vivaldi. # 1 for those of you in the e-mail "know"). My sister Vicky had a 20% off one item coupon and we used it on the comforter set, which BTW, was on clearance. We have to buy KING-SIZED PILLOWS!! LOL the shams look so funny. Like floppy little bunny ears, because we have regular pillows in them. The picture of the bedroom will just have to wait until then, sorry.

Visited Vicky's mansion (lol) before the shopping and David & Mrs. Squeak went for a swim on Saturday. Then, we went shopping, went to Chili's for a late lunch and then back to Brenda's. Saw Kelli again at her house too.

Fede got baptized on Sunday. My pictures came out horrible, because the church was large & dark. Jonathan, my nephew (Brenda & Fede's son), is not a church-goer. Neither is Brenda, for that matter. They went to support Fede. He did not think Jon & Brenda would be there. When they call the baptism candidates, all 12 of them, in from behind the pulpit somewhere, Jonathan gets up (we're WAY in the back), walks all the way down that long aisle (mind you - NOT a church loving guy), and hugs his dad. Brenda & I were crying. It was a touching moment. We went to Denny's after for Breakfast/Lunch and then ended up staying longer (reading books, playing Guitar Hero) because our little gorgeous gal fell asleep and we wanted her to have a nice nap.

We drove home late Sunday, me in a panic at our house being broken in to cause I am a freak. Or OCD. Depends on who you talk to. Speaking of OCD...not trying to make light of that disease, I would never tease anyone about having it, because I've known people with family members who do have it, and it's not funny to me, but speaking of:

From Wikipedia.com:
Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) is a psychiatric disorder, more specifically, an anxiety disorder. OCD is manifested in a variety of forms, but is most commonly characterized by a subject's obsessive (repetitive, distressing, intrusive) thoughts and related compulsions (tasks or rituals) which attempt to neutralize the obsessions.

The phrase "obsessive-compulsive" has worked its way into the wider English lexicon, and is often used in an offhand manner to describe someone who is meticulous or absorbed in a cause. Such casual references should not be confused with obsessive-compulsive disorder; see clinomorphism. It is also important to distinguish OCD from other types of anxiety, including the routine tension and stress that appear throughout life. A person who shows signs of infatuation or fixation with a subject/object, or displays traits such as perfectionism, does not necessarily have OCD, a specific and well-defined condition

So, no, I don't have OCD.

From helpguide.org:
Obsessions are recurrent, persistent, unwanted ideas, thoughts, images or impulses that are experienced involuntarily, appear to be senseless, and feel out of control. They commonly intrude when you are trying to focus on thinking or doing other things. Obsessions are often accompanied by uncomfortable feelings, such as fear, disgust, doubt, or a sensation that things have to be done in a way that is "just so."

Some common obsessions include:

fear of danger to oneself or others
fear of contamination
a need for exactness or order
sexually explicit or repugnant thoughts

A compulsion is a repetitive behavior - a ritual - that you feel driven to do, and seemingly cannot stop doing. Compulsions represent your attempts to manage your obsessions by doing something to resolve them. For example, if an obsessive worry is whether or not the door was locked, then a compulsive response might be to check the lock repeatedly.

Obsessions and compulsions range from mild checking behavior (did I turn off the iron?) to severe cases where compulsive actions prevent normal life functioning. If we think of obsessive-compulsive traits and behaviors on a continuum of varying degrees and intensities, most people experience them with little or no negative consequence on their daily lives and relationships.

So still, not so much of the ME. Cause...ew.

But THIS I thought was interesting. From helpguide.org again:

What is obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (OCPD)?

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, obsessive-compulsive personality disorder (OCPD) is a condition characterized by a chronic preoccupation with rules, orderliness, and control. Individuals with OCPD do not have the same intense obsessions and compulsions as those with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Instead, a person with OCPD is obsessed with:

• perfectionism (a belief that anything less than perfect is unacceptable)
• orderliness (a focus on routine, patterns, and order)
• control (the need to control others and oneself)

If you have OCPD, you may find it hard to get things done because your standards are unrealistic and impossible to uphold. People with OCPD seldom think they have a problem; family members or friends are often the first to notice and point out the problem. Some common signs of OCPD include:

perfectionism
inflexibility
preoccupation with details, rules, and lists
reluctance to allow others to do things
excessive devotion to work
restricted expression of affection
lack of generosity
view of money as something to be hoarded; a tendency to be stingy
rigidity and stubbornness
inability to throw things away, even if there is no sentimental or financial value in the object

Vicky, Brenda & I were discussing this list this weekend, and I told them I would post it so they could read. Vicky and Brenda both agreed to a lot of the OCPD stuff in them. We were rolling on the floor. "Perfectionism" - Brenda & Vicky would raise their hands. "Preoccupation with details, rules, and lists" - Brenda raised her hand. "Reluctance to allow others to do things because they won't do it right" - Brenda, Vicky & I raise our hands. "Excessive devotion to work" - NOT. "Restricted expression of affection" = ROFL! Have you MET us? "Rigidity and stubbornness " - Brenda raised her hand. Vicky & Me? Sometimes. "inability to throw things away, even if there is no sentimental or financial value in the object" - SO not us. lol "Lack of Generosity?" Brenda is generous to a fault at times.

So there's the list Brenda & Vicky. We all have a little bit of OCPD in all of us (not to be confused with OCD - I don't wash my hands a billion times, nor do I check my locks every 10 seconds, or worry that my iron is on, or think sexually repugnant thoughts.) The fact that I am efficient, organized, quick and productive (not to mention attractive, witty, intelligent and modest), should not have to equate me to having OCD.

Back to the weekend topic. The house was fine, the light bill for 22 days was WAY less than we were scaring ourselves over, (God is good all the time. All the time God is good.) and I am off Monday as well. Whoot.

Move Update # 2 - 06/23/2006

Did I mention the tiredness that is me? My knees! WHY did I have to be an idiot when I was 18 and bust them up? As Vicky so aptly put it, "You're going to be one of those old blue hairs yelling I'm mo-bile thanks to my Hover-round!"

OH HEY! SIDE STORY: While my sister Brenda & Fede were here, I decided to take them to look at the new house, from the outside. We're walking around the house, and two cars pull up in the driveway. I'm not too concerned. I'm thinking maybe the builder, Maronda, told them where they could see what a George Washington model looked like. So, I am putting Ms. Squeak in the car seat, when my sister comes around the corner and says "They're putting a key in the door Kaaren!" Now, there is no Maronda rep. with them. Just some old Hispanic lady(Puertoriquena by the look. I can spot my own). and her son in his 30's. My sister Brenda, as you can tell by my last post, takes no guff. She says to them "Why are you trying to get into my sister's house? SHE doesn't even have a key to show her own sister and they're letting strangers look at it?" They explain that Kenya at Maronda gave them a key so they could look around. Unattended. In my house. Now, I knew I had not technically closed on it, and I said so to them, but the more I thought about it, the less I liked it. Brenda said that it looked as though the key would not work because the older lady was jamming the key in & pounding on the door. I got on my cell and called my salesman Ralf. I was driving around the block as I spoke to him. I asked him "Ralf, why did Kenya send people to look at the house? I mean, I've already had my second walk-though, right? I've already signed off that everything is perfect, so what recourse do I have if someone does something to the house or something gets damaged?" Ralf acted all shocked but I really don't believe it. I think they were trying to be sneaky and show the house. The odds of my being there were pretty slim, right? HA. God works in mysterious ways. I drove back to the house and Mister Hispanic Guy gets ATTITUDE with me. Attitude! He's at my house and he's giving me 'tude?!? He starts immediately with "I have nothing to say to you, you need to call the office. It's not your house yet anyway, you haven't closed." To which I replied "I did call the office. They said that no one should be in the house. I've already had my second walk-through. I've signed off that it is perfect and no one should be in the house even after the first walk-through!" (They're getting in their cars - looks like they never got in the house). My sister Brenda asks him "What was the name of the sales lady again?" He says "I'm not telling you nothin," (nice grammar - if you're not telling me "nothing", you're telling me something. The two negatives negate themselves, Dork.) My sister replies "I know her name is either Kendra or Kenya, so don't worry about it." We drove off. I was so upset for the rest of the night. The NERVE of Maronda for sending someone unaccompanied to look at my house and the NERVE of el estupido portorra que se cree que puede comprar una casa tan grande como la mia. NOT.

OK, where were we...Monday's move & closing. We got the truck pretty much settled. Then, we remembered the 44 cases of 6 each of tile in the garage! The HEAVY 44 boxes. David and I loaded those suckers up, 12 cases at a time in the Jeep & he drove them to the U-Haul place (we got free storage for a month for renting the U-Haul for 3 days). David, by the way, is Superman in disguise. I don't know how he did it all. Mrs. Squeaklefritz was o.k. Bored out of her mind and wandering to the U-Haul a lot.

I cleaned the old house top to bottom. I hope the new owners appreciated the work I did. It looked really good. David and I walked around the house, looking in every room. I was o.k. David was misty-eyed. We then went to the closing at 2 p.m. ....in jeans and t-shirts, because the Einsteins that we are forgot to leave nice clothes out. LOL I was all worried until we got there. They were dressed like shlubs too. WHEN did people stop dressing nicely? I wore a suit when I originally closed on the old house when I was buying it.

Babysitter story. Remember me saying my babysitter was going to be in Puerto Rico? You don't? Then read the BLOG, hello? Long story short: Oldest son got summer school after they booked the flights, so she & oldest son stayed in FL while husband and 2 other sons went to Puerto Rico. We had a babysitter for both closings.

The closing went well. The couple who bought the blue house were young - early 30's, with a 4 month old boy...named David. We did not have to bring anything to the table. By the time everything was signed in septuplicate (I'm making that word up, by the way), we were out the door with a ton o' cash...figuratively (it was all bank wires). We were quite wealthy...and also homeless. I text messaged almost everyone in my phone too. Hee hee. We ate dinner out. :) We drove the U-haul to Deltona and spent the night at a friend's house. Tuesday morning was the closing on the new house.

After Life - 05/11/2006

On the way to make my flight this past Sunday out of Orlando, I got a call from my ex. His mother passed away that day. My son's grandmother. I stood in the airport and cried. I'm sure people thought I was just crying because I was leaving someone. I wanted to tell yell out that this was more important than that. That tough old broad passed away. My son lost his grandmother before he even became a teen. And there I was, on my way to Seattle for a business meeting, flying away from him.


My M-I-L (we still called each other mother & daughter-in-law, even though I was remarried. I had her grandchild and nothing could change that for us) terrified me when I first met her. I was 19. She was THE BOSS and no one forgot it. She was meticulous, clean. If we showered in her bathroom, we had to wipe everything down in the shower with a towel - the walls, the floor if we dripped, the sink if we spilled water there. I was so afraid to drop crumbs on her floor.


She was a strong woman. Her first husband left her with 4 kids. She had 5 kids. One died at age 3 in the backyard lake, before my ex was born. Then she met Al. This man, a Marine, married this woman and adopted her kids. He took care of them (he is truly an amazing man). He was a Marine (Sir, Yes Sir!) and still....she was the boss. They raised 4 kids and 3 aren't so bad. Hee hee. I'll behave. She & Al even took in my ex's first son (my son's half brother) and raised him since he was about 2 years old. My ex gave up his parental rights to him before I ever met him. I met J's big brother when he was 3. He is now...19 I think, and a really good kid. He lost not only his grandmother, but really, his mom.


She smoked. Her husband, children and grandchildren constantly nagged, pleaded and yelled. She ignored. They nagged some more. She ignored some more. Then, I want to say in late 2003, she was diagnosed with lung cancer.


We had about 2 & 1/2 years with her. She was an hour away. My ex would not come see my son, but my M-I-L would still call me and ask if I could bring J over for the weekend. I would drive the one hour there and back to drop him off, and the hour there and back to pick him up. I wanted him to know his family. Just because his father and I were no longer together did not mean that I disliked his family. I love them. They have always been there for me. Buying J clothes or saving clothes from their kids for me. J's aunt buying me school supplies when I could not figure out how I was going to pay for them. They are great people. I wanted J to be part of their lives.


She went down-hill pretty quick. I hadn't seen her in a few months. J went to their house to spend the night last weekend, the weekend before she passed. He said it was like a party. One of their many, many, many family get-togethers. I miss those. Even with all the arguing & bickering.


I will miss her. Nancy, I will miss you.

Ah sed... my nothe ith stuffy. - 05/01/2006

I am sick. Sinuses are driving me nuts. My nose is stuffy. I felt horrible all day long. Tonight, after the crazy toddler is in bed, I have to scrub the kitchen floor. Hands & knees scrubbing. The Realtor Lady is coming tomorrow to take pictures. Ugh. My head hurts and I get to get down & scrub. Did I mention I have been getting dizzy spells for the past 3 weeks? I made a doctor's appointment....3 weeks ago. They could not get me in until this Thursday. Good thing I'm not sick or anything!!


J went to take out the garbage and said "Wow, there are a ton of people outside." Slight exaggeration, but there were several neighbors out. Neighbor Mark the mechanic talking to a friend, Mr. Cathy's husband washing his truck, the Hispanic vet nurses (husband & wife) across the street, Vic/Vin/Mick next door. All of a sudden, I felt really nostalgic. I like my neighborhood! And I am leaving. Male vet nurse even said yesterday "I wonder who will buy your house. What kind of people they'll be." To which I replied "Yes, because they can't be as cool as us." And he replied "You're right." Awe.


Oh Vic/Vin/Mick - that's one guy. When he first introduced himself, I was not sure if he said Vin or Vic. Not wanting to ask, I never called him by his first name for fear of getting it wrong. When I'd talked to David about him, I'd say "Vic/Vin said ....." It was an inside joke - I had no clue. Then, one day, across-the-street neighbor yells to Vic/Vin: "Hey Micky, come here!" Not Vin, Not Vic - his name was Mick. So now, we still call him Vic/Vin/Mick. Not to his face, of course. If I just say to David "Mick said he'd loan us his saw," David gives me a blank stare, until I say "Mick? you know, Vic/Vin/Mick?" Then comprehension dawns on his face. Hee hee.


I'm gonna miss the neighbors