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Showing posts from January, 2012

She still won't pull that *&%$ing tooth

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Apparently I have nothing else in my life to occupy my thoughts.

If only for a day

Yesterday I made my annual trek out of town for the rescue's board/volunteer meeting. I bid on a two-star room on Priceline and was upgraded to a Hilton. Yay me! I have now decided to forgive Priceline for putting us up at Chez de la Sucks Ass back in July. I dropped the kid off at a birthday party at noon. The party was held at a local jumpity-jump joint. I think there were over a thousand birthday parties going on simultaneously. Just walking in to deposit my daughter with the correct party group and winding through the crowd to get back out was enough to make my face twitch. I'm so glad she's old enough to be dropped off at these shindigs and that I don't have to hang around. She gets invited to a lot of parties and my mental health is fragile enough already. I then hit the road, tofurkey sandwich in hand and a new "road tunes" playlist at the ready. Two and a half hours later, I was at my hotel. I checked in and was given a room on the 11th floor. As

I have to stop reading/watching the news

When I was a kid, I remember hearing the ticking clock of "60 Minutes" emanating from our console television every Sunday evening and always thought, "Ugh!" I could not understand how anyone could watch something so boring. Watching the news seemed like the very worst thing that could happen to a person. Of course, now that I have a few more decades behind me, my tolerance for news programming has increased considerably. I record "Sunday Morning" on the DVR every week and watch it after church. On weekdays, I scan the headlines on MSN and CNN while I munch my lunch. I have a long-standing crush on Robin Meade and usually listen to her newscast in the morning (even though I'm still mad about Headline News being shortened to HLN - I really did have time for those extra letters, CNN!). There weren't any big news stories this week, so I had plenty of time to be pissed off about small ones. 1. Michigan's ass backwards adoption laws . Adoption la

Fearful

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Although my daughter has excellent social skills (as evidenced by her innate need to talk to strangers and share intimate details of our lives with them), her physical skills are not as well developed. She was a late walker (14 1/2 months) and is still hesitant about trying new things if it means pushing herself physically in any way. She will not: Ride a bike (with or without training wheels) Ride a scooter Roller skate She owns all three items, of course. Ah, that was money well spent. Basically, if wheels are involved, she wants no part of it. It does not bother her that many of her friends can ride a two-wheeler with no training wheels. And ride a scooter. And roller skate. She simply does not want to try anything that might possibly result in a scrape or a scratch. I've told her that every kid falls off her bike at some point. I divulged that I fell off my bike when I was a kid, but I decided not to tell her that I broke my arm while roller skating when I was five. The

Well, she sure showed me

We've been having a few minor behavioral issues with Short Stuff lately. She still gets in yellow at school a lot. We've gotten so used to it that we don't really make a fuss unless she gets in red. When I picked her up from Kindercare yesterday, a staff member told me that they are having problems with my daughter getting on the bus in a timely manner after school. Kindercare transports her to and from school.  This did not come as a surprise to me at all. Kindercare was closed on January 2nd and I had the day off, so I took her to school and picked her up that day. When I arrived to pick her up, I parked my car in the lot and walked to the blacktop (where the kids go after the bell rings). As luck would have it, it was extremely cold and windy that day. I stood out there with the other parents, doing a little jig to keep my blood flowing. I watched wave after wave of children emerge from the double-doors and board busses or meet parents. I saw A's friends come out, dr

Lordy, Lordy

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So, you know that 20-year-old jarhead I picked up at a club in D.C. way back when? He's turning 40 today. I really need to look into exchanging him for a younger Marine. The kid and I gave him his gifts early - a Kindle Fire and a pair of jeans. He's been playing Angry Birds on the Kindle for the past two days, which was actually part of my plan as it frees up the TV for me to watch the stuff I had piling up on the DVR.  We went to Red Robin for dinner last night so that he could claim his free birthday burger. As soon as we pulled into the parking lot, he made the same announcement he has made about every restaurant (or any public establishment of any kind for that matter) for the past two decades: "It's packed." I'm throwing a little party for him Saturday night (at an equally packed restaurant on the other side of town). The kid made him a card that says,  "It's your britday, Dad!" Then she wrote "40" all over it and included a

Sermon on Legacy

I was invited to speak at my church on Sunday. I spent several weeks (off and on) working on my message and figured I'd foist it off on my unsuspecting blog readers, too. I also read a couple poems not included in the text below: Eyes Fastened with Pins by Charles Simic Men at Forty by Donald Justice "What Legacy Will I Leave? For as much as I’ve tried to pretend I am still in the first half of my life, I’ve slowly come to realize that I probably crossed over that invisible line some time ago. Based on my health history, I don’t expect to be an incredibly long-lived person. It’s important that I live long enough to finish raising my daughter, however, because I have seen how her father dresses her when I am not around. Plus, I am convinced that I am the only person in our home capable of unraveling the complexities of our school district's late start/early dismissal schedule. Without me, I’m fairly certain that A would never end up at school on the right days at

Here's a novel idea: honor your bleeping commitments

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A charm on my Giddy's collar. And check out the bad-ass skull design! I probably shouldn't generalize, but for many rescue volunteers, our least favorite task is working with owner-surrenders. Well, cleaning up one dog's vomit before another dog can eat it is pretty high on the list, too. About half the dogs that pass through our Boxer rescue come from shelters. The other half are surrendered directly by their owners. Now, you could make the point, "Hey, at least they didn't dump the dog in a field somewhere or shoot her in the head." That much is true. It is also true that many surrendering owners would love nothing more than to keep their dog. The last few years have been particularly hard on a lot of people. As a result, we've dealt with quite a few foreclosure situations, divorces, job losses, etc. Sometimes, the choices are few.  When you have nowhere to live, re-homing your dog becomes an unfortunate reality. For other surrenders, though, it comes

Snake oil salesman?

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When it comes to health and wellness, I'm in favor of an integrative approach. I take my dogs to a veterinarian who practices holistic/homeopathic medicine in addition to using traditional methods as needed. I like my vet because she doesn't just say, "Here are some pills" when one of my dogs has a physical problem. She looks at alternative approaches as well. For example, many behavioral issues can be lessened through the use of herbal tinctures (fear of thunderstorms is one example). My daughter's right ear, as you know, is causing me much consternation. I just keep thinking that there's gotta be a better way - one that does not involve surgery. Now, my friend Cassi pointed out that there are some maladies that cannot be solved without surgery. This is true. When my gall bladder was full of stones a few years ago, I was in absolute agony and wanted that mofo out. When I sliced my finger open a few years ago, I didn't try to treat it through better nutr

An unexpected compliment

I usually eat lunch at my desk (in cubicleville), but I decided to get out of the office for a bit today. Yeah, I get a little crazy on Fridays - you know it, girrrrrrrl. So, I hopped in my mom-mobile and drove to Walmart. (Don't hate! It's close and I needed some stuff, okay?) I grabbed a cart and picked up some fruit, ibuprofen, waffle mix, and a York Peppermnt Patty. Like I said, very urgent necessities . There is a Subway inside the store, so I checked out at the register and pushed my cart into the restaurant. I grabbed a bag of chips and ordered the veggie patty on wheat. My favorite part is when I say "a little bit of light mayo, please" and the sandwich maker inevitably unleashes a torrent of mayonnaise unlike the world has ever seen. If anyone knows of another way to say "a little bit of light mayo" that might be more effective, please let me know. When my order was ready, I took my tray and pushed my cart to an empty table. All of the tables have

The tube saga goes on (and on)

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My daughter failed her hearing test at school. Again. I received a letter from the health department in early December advising me that a nurse had tested her in October and again in November. She failed both times (well, that sort of makes it sound like she didn't study or something - obviously it's not her fault). The problem is, and always has been, with her right ear. The left is fine. As you may recall, this has been an ongoing issue - recurring ear infections and then surgery last February to have tubes inserted. We also opted to have her adenoids removed at that time, leaving the tonsils in place. We did everything we could to maximize the amount of time the tubes stayed lodged in her eardrums. We spent a small fortune on ear plugs and she's worn them for every bath, every shower, every swim (except one, when she lost the neoprene headband that held the earplugs in place - then we replaced that, too). I was hoping the tubes would remain firmly in position for at lea

Yes, I'm still talking about *that*

When I wrote my post about 2011, I forgot to mention a couple of accomplishments. They probably seem minor, but they are noteworthy in my book. In early 2011, I broke my addiction to caffeine and diet soda. I am sure I still ingest some caffeine in the occasional piece of dark chocolate, but nothing significant. When I first quit, I had a couple of rough weeks but I white-knuckled my way through it. Now I don't even think about soda that much, although I do miss my Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi from time to time. One day a couple months after I quit, I took my daughter to a local pancake house for breakfast. We had to wait a bit for a table and as we sat in the lobby, I watched the hostess guzzling a soda. I stared at her like a woman obsessed. I could almost feel the bubbles in my throat . . . ahhhhh.  Why did I quit?  Well, a couple of reasons. One, I read somewhere that in order to remove sugar from regular soda (and make diet soda), about a gazillion chemicals are added in order to