Just a quick "thank you" to Amy for reminding me that a 20 minute morning battle about taking a plastice "Pikachu" to school is indeed preferable to some of the tasks that required my attention when the boys were toddlers still in need of many of the basics of hygiene.
I am still using diapers these days--only on the dog--and you know the weirdest thing? Pampers still works better than the others. There might be a commercial there.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Memories...
Heather, your poop story brought back memories. Here's a few gems from when my girls were your girls' age... (originally written in 2003)If you are easily grossed out just close this 'cause it's icky!!
________________________________________
As many may know, Lilly has been struggling with potty training. She’s got the pee thing down but the bowel issues have her really flummoxed. She simply doesn’t like to go poop on the potty and even refuses to go in a diaper. Yeah, it’s real fun at my house lately! Anyway, Lilly hadn’t gone since Wednesday and I was starting to get concerned. She’d told me she had to go several times but after sitting on the potty she couldn’t go. She wore a diaper all day yesterday and didn’t do one thing.
So last night we tried the potty again and she peed but nothing else. I put her in her jammies which I let her choose. She has this one pair that has kind of like Capri pants that are really loose fitting. I didn’t put any panties on her – she said she didn’t want any and I wasn’t going to fight her about it. That decision came back to haunt me!I put the girls to bed at the same time – which is unusual. Lilly had had a bad day so I let her watch a video in bed while Audrey was in her crib - they share a room btw. I went in an hour later to turn off the TV and tuck Lilly in.
As I came upstairs I smelled it – Lilly had pooped her pants.
I opened their bedroom door realizing with horror that her loose fitting pants probably wouldn’t have contained the mess and fearing the worst. Turns out I didn’t have the imagination to fear what I actually saw!
And what did I find you ask? On the floor beside Audrey’s crib was three big piles of poop. Okay, now that’s gross but not a big deal right? I look up into the crib and I see Audrey – COVERED HEAD TO TOE IN POOP!!! She had her paci in her mouth and there was poop all over her! On the bed, on her hands, on her legs, on the bedding – EVERYTHING! Thank goodness she had her paci in her mouth because best I could tell she didn't end up eating any. SHUDDER!!!Lilly came up and explained to me that Audrey had pooped. Of course she hadn’t – her diaper was still on. All I can figure is that Lilly pooped and then picked up the poop and (naturally!) handed it to her sister who promptly decided to use it like a bar of soap!
I wasn’t sure who to feel more sorry for:
Lilly because she is so poop-stressed that she’s trying to blame her sister
Audrey who is covered in someone else’s poop
Me who is trying to stop laughing long enough to begin the super-fun task of cleaning up,
or Brad who is so horrified that he was virtually useless to me and will probably never emotionally recover from this. (He comes from a home where dirt was forbidden. His mom used to wash his shoelaces while he napped for goodness sake! He has no frame of reference to deal with this kind of filth!)
So that was my evening. They don't call if Memorial Day for nothin' in my house! I can assure you we’ll not forget this!!
______________________________________________
A few days later...
Remember the "poop incident"? It happened AGAIN last night! I'm at my wit's end! This time the poop was EVERYWHERE too - including both kids. We were meeting with the countertop guy who was SUPPOSED to have shown up at 1 pm and didn't arrive until 7:45 pm! (Did I mention that not only is his name Daniel Boone - which of course meant I couldn't call him by name or risk an inappropriate fit of the giggles! - but he's the chattiest human being on the PLANET and didn't leave until 9:30!)
During this time Lilly saw fit to poop her panties, strip herself naked and put her soiled undies in Audrey's crib. She then proceeded to mill about the room grinding feces into every surface. Here's the scenario. It's 9 pm both girls are supposed to have been asleep for HOURS! I come in to find poop on most surfaces as well as on Audrey and Lilly. Lilly is wandering around and everything she touches now has poop on it. Audrey is covered and it's all over the crib and bedding.And there is only one of me.I have to somehow manage to get Audrey AND Lilly clean ASAP because every second they are dirty and unrestrained they simply spread the mess further through the house! The only way is to put them both in the tub or leave Audrey to "stew in her sister's juices" while I deal with Lilly. I can't tend to Audrey first because Lilly will follow spreading feces in her wake and I obviously can't confine Lilly anywhere until she is clean. I do make Lilly help at first, but frankly, I can't bear to let Audrey sit there for more than a few minutes because I am sure any second she's gonna do the unthinkable and put some in her mouth!
Then, once the girls are clean, I have to find somewhere clean AND babyproof to put them because the room is a toxic waste dump and if they go back in there they'll get all dirty again! All the bedding must be stripped and remade before the girls can even be allowed back in their room. At this point Audrey is EXHAUSTED and crying and wanting to go to sleep! We have now created a rule. The rule is "no pooping in panties" and "no touching of poop messes" and "no giving poop to Audrey" (who'd have thought I'd need to be so specific!! ) and she's been told that if she makes another poop mess that she doesn't get to sleep with Audrey anymore. I think she actually does understand, but we'll see.
Last time it was funny, this time it was not.
Good times my dears, good times!!
________________________________________
As many may know, Lilly has been struggling with potty training. She’s got the pee thing down but the bowel issues have her really flummoxed. She simply doesn’t like to go poop on the potty and even refuses to go in a diaper. Yeah, it’s real fun at my house lately! Anyway, Lilly hadn’t gone since Wednesday and I was starting to get concerned. She’d told me she had to go several times but after sitting on the potty she couldn’t go. She wore a diaper all day yesterday and didn’t do one thing.
So last night we tried the potty again and she peed but nothing else. I put her in her jammies which I let her choose. She has this one pair that has kind of like Capri pants that are really loose fitting. I didn’t put any panties on her – she said she didn’t want any and I wasn’t going to fight her about it. That decision came back to haunt me!I put the girls to bed at the same time – which is unusual. Lilly had had a bad day so I let her watch a video in bed while Audrey was in her crib - they share a room btw. I went in an hour later to turn off the TV and tuck Lilly in.
As I came upstairs I smelled it – Lilly had pooped her pants.
I opened their bedroom door realizing with horror that her loose fitting pants probably wouldn’t have contained the mess and fearing the worst. Turns out I didn’t have the imagination to fear what I actually saw!
And what did I find you ask? On the floor beside Audrey’s crib was three big piles of poop. Okay, now that’s gross but not a big deal right? I look up into the crib and I see Audrey – COVERED HEAD TO TOE IN POOP!!! She had her paci in her mouth and there was poop all over her! On the bed, on her hands, on her legs, on the bedding – EVERYTHING! Thank goodness she had her paci in her mouth because best I could tell she didn't end up eating any. SHUDDER!!!Lilly came up and explained to me that Audrey had pooped. Of course she hadn’t – her diaper was still on. All I can figure is that Lilly pooped and then picked up the poop and (naturally!) handed it to her sister who promptly decided to use it like a bar of soap!
I wasn’t sure who to feel more sorry for:
Lilly because she is so poop-stressed that she’s trying to blame her sister
Audrey who is covered in someone else’s poop
Me who is trying to stop laughing long enough to begin the super-fun task of cleaning up,
or Brad who is so horrified that he was virtually useless to me and will probably never emotionally recover from this. (He comes from a home where dirt was forbidden. His mom used to wash his shoelaces while he napped for goodness sake! He has no frame of reference to deal with this kind of filth!)
So that was my evening. They don't call if Memorial Day for nothin' in my house! I can assure you we’ll not forget this!!
______________________________________________
A few days later...
Remember the "poop incident"? It happened AGAIN last night! I'm at my wit's end! This time the poop was EVERYWHERE too - including both kids. We were meeting with the countertop guy who was SUPPOSED to have shown up at 1 pm and didn't arrive until 7:45 pm! (Did I mention that not only is his name Daniel Boone - which of course meant I couldn't call him by name or risk an inappropriate fit of the giggles! - but he's the chattiest human being on the PLANET and didn't leave until 9:30!)
During this time Lilly saw fit to poop her panties, strip herself naked and put her soiled undies in Audrey's crib. She then proceeded to mill about the room grinding feces into every surface. Here's the scenario. It's 9 pm both girls are supposed to have been asleep for HOURS! I come in to find poop on most surfaces as well as on Audrey and Lilly. Lilly is wandering around and everything she touches now has poop on it. Audrey is covered and it's all over the crib and bedding.And there is only one of me.I have to somehow manage to get Audrey AND Lilly clean ASAP because every second they are dirty and unrestrained they simply spread the mess further through the house! The only way is to put them both in the tub or leave Audrey to "stew in her sister's juices" while I deal with Lilly. I can't tend to Audrey first because Lilly will follow spreading feces in her wake and I obviously can't confine Lilly anywhere until she is clean. I do make Lilly help at first, but frankly, I can't bear to let Audrey sit there for more than a few minutes because I am sure any second she's gonna do the unthinkable and put some in her mouth!
Then, once the girls are clean, I have to find somewhere clean AND babyproof to put them because the room is a toxic waste dump and if they go back in there they'll get all dirty again! All the bedding must be stripped and remade before the girls can even be allowed back in their room. At this point Audrey is EXHAUSTED and crying and wanting to go to sleep! We have now created a rule. The rule is "no pooping in panties" and "no touching of poop messes" and "no giving poop to Audrey" (who'd have thought I'd need to be so specific!! ) and she's been told that if she makes another poop mess that she doesn't get to sleep with Audrey anymore. I think she actually does understand, but we'll see.
Last time it was funny, this time it was not.
Good times my dears, good times!!
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
The Good, The Bad and the Socially Unacceptable
The Good:
My children are wonderful. Really. I mean we all have our flaws, but they're just the right amount of "goofy" compounded with a healthy dose of "cute."
They are playing together much more readily these days and enjoying it! Two words...Star Wars. The battle for dominion over the galaxy is waged in my home at least once a day. And here's the great thing about it...the good guys ALWAYS win!
We are having more play dates from first grade class members. Boy Scouts rock! Little League is starting, the kind where they really hit the ball. And Spring is almost here! Say it with me; "Outdoor play!"
The Bad:
I have a "Drama King." Now, most six-year-olds are not characterized by their "balanced emotional outlook" on social situations, but the model I have paints EVERYTHING in extremely vivid hues. Consequently, most of my time on the drive home from school is spent adding some midtones in to balance out the daily picture.
And the youngest hates school. Things were fine until he turned four and they moved him to the four-year-old room. Now he cried everyday when Doug drops him off and he's been known to run after him even into the parking lot! When asked why he doesn't like his new class he simply responds over and over again, "I just want to stay a little bit." I am open to advice.
The Socially Unacceptable:
Burping.
There, I've said it. I can't rid my house of the deliberate burp. I understand the involuntary bodily function we all experience from time to time, but the act of which I am now speaking is definitely planned.
Hands in pants.
Another habit I can't seem to deter no matter how many "gentle" prompts are given. Even not so gentle ones are usually ineffective. But, I know at some point the fact that peers will stop doing the same thing will be a greater influence than my meager appeals and that habit, at least, should go away. I think the burp may be here to stay.
My children are wonderful. Really. I mean we all have our flaws, but they're just the right amount of "goofy" compounded with a healthy dose of "cute."
They are playing together much more readily these days and enjoying it! Two words...Star Wars. The battle for dominion over the galaxy is waged in my home at least once a day. And here's the great thing about it...the good guys ALWAYS win!
We are having more play dates from first grade class members. Boy Scouts rock! Little League is starting, the kind where they really hit the ball. And Spring is almost here! Say it with me; "Outdoor play!"
The Bad:
I have a "Drama King." Now, most six-year-olds are not characterized by their "balanced emotional outlook" on social situations, but the model I have paints EVERYTHING in extremely vivid hues. Consequently, most of my time on the drive home from school is spent adding some midtones in to balance out the daily picture.
And the youngest hates school. Things were fine until he turned four and they moved him to the four-year-old room. Now he cried everyday when Doug drops him off and he's been known to run after him even into the parking lot! When asked why he doesn't like his new class he simply responds over and over again, "I just want to stay a little bit." I am open to advice.
The Socially Unacceptable:
Burping.
There, I've said it. I can't rid my house of the deliberate burp. I understand the involuntary bodily function we all experience from time to time, but the act of which I am now speaking is definitely planned.
Hands in pants.
Another habit I can't seem to deter no matter how many "gentle" prompts are given. Even not so gentle ones are usually ineffective. But, I know at some point the fact that peers will stop doing the same thing will be a greater influence than my meager appeals and that habit, at least, should go away. I think the burp may be here to stay.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Gotta tell an Audrey story...
Background. She's got her front permanent teeth and her permanent incisors but the teeth in between were her baby teeth. Over a YEAR ago the dentist was after us to get those out but Audrey didn't want to mess with them and honestly, they weren't loose. So at this point I've got a dental appt for the girls next week and my child has spent the last year looking a little odd with these two big front teeth and little baby teeth jammed in between. They were wedged in there and wouldn't move at all!
So Tuesday Audrey comes downstairs and informs me that she remembers how she lost her tooth in a bit of chocolate last Christmas Eve. She said she wanted to lose another tooth this year. I told her to start with those two little ones as I was going to have to pay the dentist to pull them out next week! Audrey thinks about it for a second and starts digging around in her mouth. 30 seconds later 'MOM! It's LOOSE!!' The left baby tooth is wiggling and bleeding. She goes and gets a kleenex and asked me to pull it out which I do quick as a wink!
Brad and I are stunned because prior to this with both kids any pulling of teeth was an emotional even wrought with tears, drama and long prolonged sessions of coaxing to get them out. So the tooth fairy comes and I've just saved a $25 extraction fee! Hooray. We asked if she wanted to do the other one but she said no, because she wanted the tooth fairy to come twice. Good thinking. Fair enough.
So yesterday I asked if she was going to pull out the other one tonight. She said no so I figured - we've got a few more days before the dentist and worst case I'll have him pull it. Put the girls to bed at 7:30 and I go upstairs to read. 8:30 Audrey bursts into the room with a kleenex shoved into her mouth and the tooth pillow clutched in her hand shouting "I pullbed oup my ober toof!" Brad and I are stunned. Sure enough - tooth is out, already ensconced in the tooth pillow and pressure was being applied to tooth hole wound. Wow!
So the tooth fairy comes again last night (thank goodness we had a stockpile of silver and gold dollar coins which is 'tooth fairy script' in our house!)
This morning we were talking about the event and I asked Audrey how she did it. The explanation went a little something like this...
Audrey: 'you know how the clothes hamper has a handle' (she has a square plastic clothes hamper with a plastic lid that flips up and down).
Me: (suspiciously) 'Uh huh...?'
Audrey: 'Well I held onto it like this (mimics gripping a handle close to her face) and pushed..."
Me: "You mean you held onto the hamper while you pulled out the tooth with your other hand?"
Audrey: 'No Mommy' (frustrated with my obvious lack of intelligence) 'I held onto the hamper and pushed my tooth on the edge'
Me: (disbelieving) 'You mean to tell me, you used the side of the hamper to push out your tooth?!'
Audrey: 'Yes!' (clearly pleased that I finally understood her McGyver-like abilities with regard to tooth removal...)
So that happened. And I just saved a total of $50 in dental fees! Golly I do love that girl!
So Tuesday Audrey comes downstairs and informs me that she remembers how she lost her tooth in a bit of chocolate last Christmas Eve. She said she wanted to lose another tooth this year. I told her to start with those two little ones as I was going to have to pay the dentist to pull them out next week! Audrey thinks about it for a second and starts digging around in her mouth. 30 seconds later 'MOM! It's LOOSE!!' The left baby tooth is wiggling and bleeding. She goes and gets a kleenex and asked me to pull it out which I do quick as a wink!
Brad and I are stunned because prior to this with both kids any pulling of teeth was an emotional even wrought with tears, drama and long prolonged sessions of coaxing to get them out. So the tooth fairy comes and I've just saved a $25 extraction fee! Hooray. We asked if she wanted to do the other one but she said no, because she wanted the tooth fairy to come twice. Good thinking. Fair enough.
So yesterday I asked if she was going to pull out the other one tonight. She said no so I figured - we've got a few more days before the dentist and worst case I'll have him pull it. Put the girls to bed at 7:30 and I go upstairs to read. 8:30 Audrey bursts into the room with a kleenex shoved into her mouth and the tooth pillow clutched in her hand shouting "I pullbed oup my ober toof!" Brad and I are stunned. Sure enough - tooth is out, already ensconced in the tooth pillow and pressure was being applied to tooth hole wound. Wow!
So the tooth fairy comes again last night (thank goodness we had a stockpile of silver and gold dollar coins which is 'tooth fairy script' in our house!)
This morning we were talking about the event and I asked Audrey how she did it. The explanation went a little something like this...
Audrey: 'you know how the clothes hamper has a handle' (she has a square plastic clothes hamper with a plastic lid that flips up and down).
Me: (suspiciously) 'Uh huh...?'
Audrey: 'Well I held onto it like this (mimics gripping a handle close to her face) and pushed..."
Me: "You mean you held onto the hamper while you pulled out the tooth with your other hand?"
Audrey: 'No Mommy' (frustrated with my obvious lack of intelligence) 'I held onto the hamper and pushed my tooth on the edge'
Me: (disbelieving) 'You mean to tell me, you used the side of the hamper to push out your tooth?!'
Audrey: 'Yes!' (clearly pleased that I finally understood her McGyver-like abilities with regard to tooth removal...)
So that happened. And I just saved a total of $50 in dental fees! Golly I do love that girl!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Testing the Email Function
I tried to link an email whenever anyone posts. Let's see if it works. If this annoys you let me know. If you want to post remember to log in as amystone3797@yahoo.com with the password of weeklyrant
Anyone else hate those 'I'm There' State Farm commercials...
I don't have anything pithy to say about it, except I loathe it like a Dockers commercial...
I secretly dream that the big circle they are inexplicably standing on is a type of black hole that will suck them and their stupid ass lives off my TV screen.
I secretly dream that the big circle they are inexplicably standing on is a type of black hole that will suck them and their stupid ass lives off my TV screen.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Why do children hate coats?
It's 35 degrees outside and a fine mist is falling. There is a toasty fire in the fireplace and my children would rather go outside. Not only would they rather be out there, I have to threaten them to get them to wear a coat!!! They're convinced the sweatshirt jacket they wear when the thermometer is at 60 degrees is good all year round.
I know their circulation is better, but it can't be THAT good.
The life of a mother.
Esther
I know their circulation is better, but it can't be THAT good.
The life of a mother.
Esther
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Amy: Am I hoggin' this blog?! Okay, I'd like to discuss our family dinner last night...
As a rule family dinners in the Stone home are a 'no-no'. It started once Audrey started eating table food. By whatever perfect storm of circumstances you want to blame, I developed big time stomach issues when Audrey was about 2. Which means that about the time we would have started having family meals, family meals became physically and emotionally painful.
I am married to a very tidy man who does not tolerate mealtime disruption well. Add this to severe stomach pain when such stressors occur, and let's just say, we penciled in a family meal once a week out of sheer guilt. The rest of the time, the kids eat in front of the TV and we eat in blessed silence when they are in bed, like God intended.
As is typical, because we denied them our company during mealtime, 'family dinner' became desireable. I mean, c'mon - you really want to sit there and have me criticize your vegetable to starch consumption ratio? Having your dad micromanage your table manners is fun for you?! Yeah, I guess we are that fantastic.
So, okay fine. Family dinners then. About two years ago we ramped it up to 4 - 5 nights a week. Felt a bit like torture to Brad and I but we put forth the work effort. Of course about this time the girls decided that they really only liked about 5 foods. Those 5 foods of course rotated randomly through the sweet/starch/chickenfried food spectrum - best I could tell, pretty much randomly. After about a year of making two dinners (flat out stupid) and a year of making dinners that we all might like (flat out impossible) I decided to just make some food that Brad and I enjoyed. Kids were invited of course, but I braced for the inevitable fallout on a nightly basis.
And fall out it did. I would spend hours planning menus and making meals only to have Lilly start laying the groundwork for not eating at about 3:15. She'd ask (she thought slyly) what we'd be having, and then, after what I am sure seemed to her a reasonably long time period, she'd start to drop hints about phantom stomach aches, or how she ate so much for lunch, or how she'd bravely forego dessert as she just simply couldn't eat any dinner. You have to understand that Lilly will eat a clod of dirt if it is served in a restaurant, but anything served in our home is viewed with skepticism at the very least, with downright suspicion being ultimately more typical.
Let's just say this didn't do much for my GERD.
So Monday I asked Brad if there was anything he wanted me to fix for dinners this week. He'd just read this National Geographic article about the 100 best foods and he suggested (with a straight face) that I 'try to encorporate some of those foods' into our menu. Ummm Hummm. Okay, buster, you asked for it.
Monday evening was butternut squash risotto (which Brad had decreed unacceptable weeks ago due to its shocking lack of meat content), grilled chicken and steamed asparagus. As the meals were plated I braced myself for the neonate fall out.
Not only was there no fall out, but I'm damn sure that those were not my children at the table. They were - my hand to God - FIGHTING over the asparagus. Lilly ate all her chicken (never happens, although she did dip it liberally in mayo - shudder!) and ate two leftover steamed shrimp from the night before. She also ate three asparagus spears and although she eschewed the rice for the most part, she did give it a good try and Audrey polished hers off with gusto. Brad and I kept eyeing each other over the table trying to make sure we weren't having some sort of hallucination.
It was the best family dinner ever.
So I figured my best bet was not to push it. They ate homemade pizza in front of SpongeBob tonight. I just need a few more hours to bask in the glory before we regress to the mean...
I am married to a very tidy man who does not tolerate mealtime disruption well. Add this to severe stomach pain when such stressors occur, and let's just say, we penciled in a family meal once a week out of sheer guilt. The rest of the time, the kids eat in front of the TV and we eat in blessed silence when they are in bed, like God intended.
As is typical, because we denied them our company during mealtime, 'family dinner' became desireable. I mean, c'mon - you really want to sit there and have me criticize your vegetable to starch consumption ratio? Having your dad micromanage your table manners is fun for you?! Yeah, I guess we are that fantastic.
So, okay fine. Family dinners then. About two years ago we ramped it up to 4 - 5 nights a week. Felt a bit like torture to Brad and I but we put forth the work effort. Of course about this time the girls decided that they really only liked about 5 foods. Those 5 foods of course rotated randomly through the sweet/starch/chickenfried food spectrum - best I could tell, pretty much randomly. After about a year of making two dinners (flat out stupid) and a year of making dinners that we all might like (flat out impossible) I decided to just make some food that Brad and I enjoyed. Kids were invited of course, but I braced for the inevitable fallout on a nightly basis.
And fall out it did. I would spend hours planning menus and making meals only to have Lilly start laying the groundwork for not eating at about 3:15. She'd ask (she thought slyly) what we'd be having, and then, after what I am sure seemed to her a reasonably long time period, she'd start to drop hints about phantom stomach aches, or how she ate so much for lunch, or how she'd bravely forego dessert as she just simply couldn't eat any dinner. You have to understand that Lilly will eat a clod of dirt if it is served in a restaurant, but anything served in our home is viewed with skepticism at the very least, with downright suspicion being ultimately more typical.
Let's just say this didn't do much for my GERD.
So Monday I asked Brad if there was anything he wanted me to fix for dinners this week. He'd just read this National Geographic article about the 100 best foods and he suggested (with a straight face) that I 'try to encorporate some of those foods' into our menu. Ummm Hummm. Okay, buster, you asked for it.
Monday evening was butternut squash risotto (which Brad had decreed unacceptable weeks ago due to its shocking lack of meat content), grilled chicken and steamed asparagus. As the meals were plated I braced myself for the neonate fall out.
Not only was there no fall out, but I'm damn sure that those were not my children at the table. They were - my hand to God - FIGHTING over the asparagus. Lilly ate all her chicken (never happens, although she did dip it liberally in mayo - shudder!) and ate two leftover steamed shrimp from the night before. She also ate three asparagus spears and although she eschewed the rice for the most part, she did give it a good try and Audrey polished hers off with gusto. Brad and I kept eyeing each other over the table trying to make sure we weren't having some sort of hallucination.
It was the best family dinner ever.
So I figured my best bet was not to push it. They ate homemade pizza in front of SpongeBob tonight. I just need a few more hours to bask in the glory before we regress to the mean...
Esther: Bumper Stickers Help Angry People Feel They've Had Their Say
I never really thought about it before, but while I was reading the hatchback of a Subaru Legacy on my way out to Hamburg on Sunday, I realized what a public service bumper stickers really are.
I mean, you take this guy I was following. I counted 15 bumper stickers on the back of his car, leaving just enough space for the rear window. They all made rather definitive statements about his political, moral and economic opinions...some of them even used BOLD type to EMPHASIZE a word, phrase or name. Obviously, this man had a lot to say and wanted the world to hear it.
And then it hit me. Without bumper stickers, this man would have to stop everyone he saw and yell all of this information at them. I mean, how much time would something like that take?
Thanks to bumper stickers, we can all share our thoughts and opinions about deeply personal and political issues with complete strangers in cars around us. And the real beauty of it is, we never have to say a word to them. Is that some kind of public service or what?
I mean, you take this guy I was following. I counted 15 bumper stickers on the back of his car, leaving just enough space for the rear window. They all made rather definitive statements about his political, moral and economic opinions...some of them even used BOLD type to EMPHASIZE a word, phrase or name. Obviously, this man had a lot to say and wanted the world to hear it.
And then it hit me. Without bumper stickers, this man would have to stop everyone he saw and yell all of this information at them. I mean, how much time would something like that take?
Thanks to bumper stickers, we can all share our thoughts and opinions about deeply personal and political issues with complete strangers in cars around us. And the real beauty of it is, we never have to say a word to them. Is that some kind of public service or what?
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Amy: Is it possible to be a reverse racist?
One of the many birthday parties I endured this weekend (that is another rant altogether) was for Lilly's friend Malaayia (I swear to God I am sure I spelled that wrong - there are like a hundered a's and y's involved but I get the order messed up...). She is a sweet little girl of color in our otherwise lilly white Scott county. Okay, I just flat out lied there. She actually is a bit of a bitch but she LOVES Lilly, and has spent the last two years defending her friendship with Lilly like some sort of prize and picking fights with other girls who get to friendly with her.
Okay, so here's the thing. I really want to encourage Lilly to have a friend who is different from her, but I think I might be encouraging a friendship that I would never ever encourage if the the little girl was white! We went to her birthday party today and I love her mother - she's super sweet and works at Toyota - just promoted to specialist from a job on the line. Let's just say that we were the marshmallows in the cocoa at the party, but everyone was VERY nice. The thing is - they are super duper Baptist. I'm not talkin' - go to church and then a potluck Methodist behavior. I am talking full on, almost-didn't-make-the-party-because-CHURCH-RAN-UNTIL-2:30 Baptists!!! Now that is not necessarily a deal breaker, but I was a bit worried that I was going to say something wrong. The one gal was a hairstylist and I was informed that she had 'ministry in her hands'.
Okay. Sure.
Another other gal shared that she is attending Asbury to be a christian counselor. Fantastic, although I could have done without her rave about how great the program was because it contained little or no psychology or counseling classes. Seems like you might need a bit of those things to be effective, but what the hell do I know?
So the party was fine. The girls had fun. But honestly, if they were white, I'm pretty sure she'd not be coming over for a play date next week...
Okay, so here's the thing. I really want to encourage Lilly to have a friend who is different from her, but I think I might be encouraging a friendship that I would never ever encourage if the the little girl was white! We went to her birthday party today and I love her mother - she's super sweet and works at Toyota - just promoted to specialist from a job on the line. Let's just say that we were the marshmallows in the cocoa at the party, but everyone was VERY nice. The thing is - they are super duper Baptist. I'm not talkin' - go to church and then a potluck Methodist behavior. I am talking full on, almost-didn't-make-the-party-because-CHURCH-RAN-UNTIL-2:30 Baptists!!! Now that is not necessarily a deal breaker, but I was a bit worried that I was going to say something wrong. The one gal was a hairstylist and I was informed that she had 'ministry in her hands'.
Okay. Sure.
Another other gal shared that she is attending Asbury to be a christian counselor. Fantastic, although I could have done without her rave about how great the program was because it contained little or no psychology or counseling classes. Seems like you might need a bit of those things to be effective, but what the hell do I know?
So the party was fine. The girls had fun. But honestly, if they were white, I'm pretty sure she'd not be coming over for a play date next week...
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Lara: "It's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a ..."
I myself have recently entered the world of elementary school sports, and I'm trying really hard to not be one of "those" parents. Susannah played soccer with LYSA last spring for the first time, and it was very laid back, 5 vs. 5, boys and girls, on a tiny field. And it - was - hilarious! Nobody kept score, there were no goalies, the kids just flocked around the ball and flailed away. By the end of the season, a few of the kids had figured out that if they could get the ball away from the pack and dribble down the field, they could actually score a goal! Everybody had fun, everybody was happy, half the parents sat around and chatted and didn't even watch the game.
Well, that was U6. Now she's in U8, and it's a whole new ballgame, so to speak. The good news is that it is all girls, because there were a few boys last season that were pretty big and pretty competitive. But now it's 7 players plus a goalie on each team, and they play on a field that is probably 3 to 4 times as large as the one they played on in U6.
So I found out all of this during practices (2 per week before school started, but thankfully only 1 per week now) from talking to the other moms, so I wasn't surprised to see the giant field. I was actually happy because it looked so nice and pretty and flat and green, and I wanted to run around and play myself!
What I was not prepared for was how much it seems that the games actually MATTER now! I don't know it is. It might be because the fields are so damn big that when the ball actually goes near the goal, it's really hard to keep from screaming your brains out - GO! GO! GO! KICK IT! SHOOT IT! - and then the ball slowly dribbles out of bounds behind the goal.
So I've been trying really hard to quell my inner competitiveness, and I've been very good about only yelling helpful, encouraging things, like NICE TRY, ABBY! GOOD JOB, ISABEL! THAT'S OKAY, LUCIE! The problem is that the game seems to matter much more to ME. The girls are having a great time; most of the parents still sit and chat and only cheer occasionally; there have been no fights between parents of opposing teams (and I've heard some stories). All in all it's still pretty laid back and enjoyable. So why is it that I feel exhausted after every game?
Well, I'm doing my best to stay detached, but deep down I know my general good mood this afternoon might have something to do with the fact that we finally won our first game! Sigh.
But if you ever see me barking "RUN!" to my child, a la Chuck Comer, just shoot me.
Well, that was U6. Now she's in U8, and it's a whole new ballgame, so to speak. The good news is that it is all girls, because there were a few boys last season that were pretty big and pretty competitive. But now it's 7 players plus a goalie on each team, and they play on a field that is probably 3 to 4 times as large as the one they played on in U6.
So I found out all of this during practices (2 per week before school started, but thankfully only 1 per week now) from talking to the other moms, so I wasn't surprised to see the giant field. I was actually happy because it looked so nice and pretty and flat and green, and I wanted to run around and play myself!
What I was not prepared for was how much it seems that the games actually MATTER now! I don't know it is. It might be because the fields are so damn big that when the ball actually goes near the goal, it's really hard to keep from screaming your brains out - GO! GO! GO! KICK IT! SHOOT IT! - and then the ball slowly dribbles out of bounds behind the goal.
So I've been trying really hard to quell my inner competitiveness, and I've been very good about only yelling helpful, encouraging things, like NICE TRY, ABBY! GOOD JOB, ISABEL! THAT'S OKAY, LUCIE! The problem is that the game seems to matter much more to ME. The girls are having a great time; most of the parents still sit and chat and only cheer occasionally; there have been no fights between parents of opposing teams (and I've heard some stories). All in all it's still pretty laid back and enjoyable. So why is it that I feel exhausted after every game?
Well, I'm doing my best to stay detached, but deep down I know my general good mood this afternoon might have something to do with the fact that we finally won our first game! Sigh.
But if you ever see me barking "RUN!" to my child, a la Chuck Comer, just shoot me.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
I Am A Football Hypocrit!
I readily admit it here. I have a double standard when it comes to the game of football.
Since I was in high school I have been a HUGE fan of the sport. I would watch any high school game in my area and any college game that happened to be on...even "Nowhere in the World" State verses "Dismal Seepage" University.
Nothing says "Fall is here" quite like the sound of clashing hard plastic helmets traveling through the cool autumn air in the evenings. The clicking of the cleats on the concrete as the players head for the locker room. In short, I love the game and the tradition that accompanies it.
Knowing this about myself, I was therefore amazed by the immediate disdain for the sport I experienced when my oldest son started playing flag football this year.
Here are my complaints, in no particular order:
-They want six-year-old's to practice two nights a week for an hour-and-a-half each night followed by a game each Saturday! Too much time right there.
-Parents keep yelling things at these practices like, "Where's the ball, Owen?" or "You missed the play! He went right by you!" (And when I say yelling...I mean YELLING!)
-This is suppose to be "Flag Football" meaning no tackles. When you pull the flag on the guy with the ball, the play is suppose to be over. The players don't seem to understand that fact. They keep piling on top of the play after the flag has been pulled and both the "puller" and the "pull-ee" have tumbled to ground due to momentum. Last week during a scrimmage at practice, one boy broke two of his fingers! During a scrimmage! At practice! This is suppose to be FLAG FOOTBALL! You know like "Capture the flag"? When you get the flag you stop trying to "get" things.
-Lastly, I overheard one of the coach's tell a parent that it "ruined his whole day Saturday" because our team lost the first game they played. I mean really. If losing your first flag football game, which took place at 8:00 am no less, can ruin your day, you must have fairly low expectations for the weekend.
On a positive note, Jack is having fun. He says he likes to play...but not as much as he likes basketball and playing with his Lego Star Wars models. This is good. I can use this.
We have a rule at our house. You can't quit something you've started, but you don't have to try it again.
So next fall, when the pools close and school starts and the football sign-ups are posted, if my oldest says, "hey Mom, am I playing football again this year?" I will tell him the choice is his but there's a lot of fun to be had at home in the evenings with the X-wing fighter and the AT-AP walker and Leia might need you to help Luke rescue her from Darth Vader.
Plus basketball starts in five short weeks.
Since I was in high school I have been a HUGE fan of the sport. I would watch any high school game in my area and any college game that happened to be on...even "Nowhere in the World" State verses "Dismal Seepage" University.
Nothing says "Fall is here" quite like the sound of clashing hard plastic helmets traveling through the cool autumn air in the evenings. The clicking of the cleats on the concrete as the players head for the locker room. In short, I love the game and the tradition that accompanies it.
Knowing this about myself, I was therefore amazed by the immediate disdain for the sport I experienced when my oldest son started playing flag football this year.
Here are my complaints, in no particular order:
-They want six-year-old's to practice two nights a week for an hour-and-a-half each night followed by a game each Saturday! Too much time right there.
-Parents keep yelling things at these practices like, "Where's the ball, Owen?" or "You missed the play! He went right by you!" (And when I say yelling...I mean YELLING!)
-This is suppose to be "Flag Football" meaning no tackles. When you pull the flag on the guy with the ball, the play is suppose to be over. The players don't seem to understand that fact. They keep piling on top of the play after the flag has been pulled and both the "puller" and the "pull-ee" have tumbled to ground due to momentum. Last week during a scrimmage at practice, one boy broke two of his fingers! During a scrimmage! At practice! This is suppose to be FLAG FOOTBALL! You know like "Capture the flag"? When you get the flag you stop trying to "get" things.
-Lastly, I overheard one of the coach's tell a parent that it "ruined his whole day Saturday" because our team lost the first game they played. I mean really. If losing your first flag football game, which took place at 8:00 am no less, can ruin your day, you must have fairly low expectations for the weekend.
On a positive note, Jack is having fun. He says he likes to play...but not as much as he likes basketball and playing with his Lego Star Wars models. This is good. I can use this.
We have a rule at our house. You can't quit something you've started, but you don't have to try it again.
So next fall, when the pools close and school starts and the football sign-ups are posted, if my oldest says, "hey Mom, am I playing football again this year?" I will tell him the choice is his but there's a lot of fun to be had at home in the evenings with the X-wing fighter and the AT-AP walker and Leia might need you to help Luke rescue her from Darth Vader.
Plus basketball starts in five short weeks.
I HATE new doctors....
Okay, let me preface this little rant by saying that I really do like her new doc and will probably continue to drive 1.5 hours each way to see her. The appointment was very thorough and and although it took FOREVER I know this is one of the very best rheumatology departments in the country.
So all that being said, the new doc wants to change her meds AGAIN! Right now she's on the enbrel shots once a week and methotrexate orally once a week. The methotrexate is what keeps her eye disease in check but it has liver function side effects so that is the med that makes us have to take folic acid supplements and get blood work done every 6 weeks. The new doc is worried about her eyes - even though they are 'quiet' she still has white blood cell floaters and blindness from iritis can happen very quickly if we miss it. We are supposed to ramp up her eye doc visits AND she wants us to go from enbrel and mtx to humira. Humira has only been approved since Feb. of this year, but it supposedly has great results keeping iritis in check. Ideally we'll take her off the enbrel, replace it with humira and wean her off the methotrexate so that eventually she's only on one medication. The other good news is that the shot is only every other week! The bad news is that the stabilzer they use in the medication causes the injection to be much more painful than enbrel. I let Lilly make the decision and she wants to try the humira. If all goes as hoped probably by the first of the year she could be down to one shot every other week and blood draws once or twice a year. We'll have to see the eye doc monthly for awhile to make sure that the iritis doesn't come back but that's not a huge deal. We'll see the rheumatologist every three months.
Sounds good right? And it is of course, but all of this can be so tiring. I mean, it's hard to choose to put medication in a child's body when there is so little long term research out there. But, on the other hand thank goodness we have these options, right? The thing is that the med she is is on (both enbrel and humira the new drug) is a TNF inhibitor. TNF stands for 'tumor necrosis factor'. Bottom line, the research (such that it is) shows that it increases cancer risks among those who use it. Problem is, people who have conditions that benfit from these meds are also more likely to get cancer (lymphoma primarily) than the general population. It's difficult to determine what is a disease risk and what is from the meds.
The idea that I might be injecting her with something that is going to give her cancer later...I just can't even think about it for more than a few seconds. But the bottom line is, what choice to I have? If I do nothing she will be unable to move without pain and will probably go blind within a few months. I could go back to the methotrexate alone but that has liver side effects - she's already had one high blood test showing some small issues there. I know I don't have a choice I just hate being the one to have to decide this for her. All I can do is hope that neither of us will live to regret it. The drugs work so well for her and take her from what would be a terrible outcome to a child who is, for all intents and purposes, just like any other child. That is such a great thing to be able to offer her a normal life. I know that all I can do is the best I can do, and that is to give her the drug and pray that I'm not doing any more damage.
Sorry to whine. Sometimes it just helps to get it out. Brad is teflon with this stuff. He can't even address the possiblity that this might end badly. This is why I hate these doctor visits. I had made my choice with the enbrel and was able to put the decision away and now I'm having to redecide it all over again! I know in a few weeks we'll move past this and I'll be able to put my fears aside and get on with it. Thanks for listening. Oh, and sorry this was not very funny but something kind of sick funny did happen.
My uber-obsessive researching really backfired. The doc first started talking about remicade which I knew is done by iv in the hospital once a month and takes like 6 hours! I nearly passed out (seriously nearly had to put my head between my knees) because I thought that was what she was going to suggest!! Brad couldn't figure out what in the hell had gotten into me, but luckily the doc figured it out once she realized I already knew the delivery system on it. As it turns out she was simply trying to point out that remicade is a great med and humira is very similar but it did give me a scare!!
So all that being said, the new doc wants to change her meds AGAIN! Right now she's on the enbrel shots once a week and methotrexate orally once a week. The methotrexate is what keeps her eye disease in check but it has liver function side effects so that is the med that makes us have to take folic acid supplements and get blood work done every 6 weeks. The new doc is worried about her eyes - even though they are 'quiet' she still has white blood cell floaters and blindness from iritis can happen very quickly if we miss it. We are supposed to ramp up her eye doc visits AND she wants us to go from enbrel and mtx to humira. Humira has only been approved since Feb. of this year, but it supposedly has great results keeping iritis in check. Ideally we'll take her off the enbrel, replace it with humira and wean her off the methotrexate so that eventually she's only on one medication. The other good news is that the shot is only every other week! The bad news is that the stabilzer they use in the medication causes the injection to be much more painful than enbrel. I let Lilly make the decision and she wants to try the humira. If all goes as hoped probably by the first of the year she could be down to one shot every other week and blood draws once or twice a year. We'll have to see the eye doc monthly for awhile to make sure that the iritis doesn't come back but that's not a huge deal. We'll see the rheumatologist every three months.
Sounds good right? And it is of course, but all of this can be so tiring. I mean, it's hard to choose to put medication in a child's body when there is so little long term research out there. But, on the other hand thank goodness we have these options, right? The thing is that the med she is is on (both enbrel and humira the new drug) is a TNF inhibitor. TNF stands for 'tumor necrosis factor'. Bottom line, the research (such that it is) shows that it increases cancer risks among those who use it. Problem is, people who have conditions that benfit from these meds are also more likely to get cancer (lymphoma primarily) than the general population. It's difficult to determine what is a disease risk and what is from the meds.
The idea that I might be injecting her with something that is going to give her cancer later...I just can't even think about it for more than a few seconds. But the bottom line is, what choice to I have? If I do nothing she will be unable to move without pain and will probably go blind within a few months. I could go back to the methotrexate alone but that has liver side effects - she's already had one high blood test showing some small issues there. I know I don't have a choice I just hate being the one to have to decide this for her. All I can do is hope that neither of us will live to regret it. The drugs work so well for her and take her from what would be a terrible outcome to a child who is, for all intents and purposes, just like any other child. That is such a great thing to be able to offer her a normal life. I know that all I can do is the best I can do, and that is to give her the drug and pray that I'm not doing any more damage.
Sorry to whine. Sometimes it just helps to get it out. Brad is teflon with this stuff. He can't even address the possiblity that this might end badly. This is why I hate these doctor visits. I had made my choice with the enbrel and was able to put the decision away and now I'm having to redecide it all over again! I know in a few weeks we'll move past this and I'll be able to put my fears aside and get on with it. Thanks for listening. Oh, and sorry this was not very funny but something kind of sick funny did happen.
My uber-obsessive researching really backfired. The doc first started talking about remicade which I knew is done by iv in the hospital once a month and takes like 6 hours! I nearly passed out (seriously nearly had to put my head between my knees) because I thought that was what she was going to suggest!! Brad couldn't figure out what in the hell had gotten into me, but luckily the doc figured it out once she realized I already knew the delivery system on it. As it turns out she was simply trying to point out that remicade is a great med and humira is very similar but it did give me a scare!!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Amy: Whyyyyyyyy isn't stupid stupid daylight savings time over yet???
I just checked and the clocks don't turn back to what I call 'normal time' until November 2!!! Seriously, we'll all be stone dead by then. Getting the kids up when it is dark out is just abnormal, plus it makes us all real grumpy.
I've said it before - its just not natural to mess with time!
Grump.
I've said it before - its just not natural to mess with time!
Grump.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Esther: BLOG - Being Lacking Online Genius
I have created two bogus blog accounts trying to post a new entry on this Blogspot. Now I know what "BLOG" stands for...(see title).
I think I finally have it down.
You follow the instructions...explicitly.
I am excited.
I have "blogged" successfully.
I blog, therefore I spam.
This is a good idea.
Esther
Amy: To a vomit-free week! (Please God...)
I'm not a natural nursemaid. I'll admit that. Frankly, I have the patience of a small rodent for most weakness. I want to be all sweet and nurturing, but down deep I'm a 'suck it up and keep on rolling' girl at heart. And I expect it of everyone without exception as it turns out.
Well, Ms. Suck-it-up is on day 8 of Pukapolloza 2008 with Lilly. I know you must be thinking, 'how could you blame an 8-year old for vomiting'?
It's real easy.
The child has a hair-trigger puke reflex. I know that most people who had what she has would be able to hold it down. Okay, I don't KNOW that, but I want to believe it. Anyway, I challenge any of you to get vomited on in Big Lots and not be the slightest bit bitter. Of course, who must really be bitter is the bottle blonde Big Lots employee who had the gross (literally) misfortune to walk by just as my sweet princess was yakking up her fruit and yogurt parfait. She was left with quite an exhilarating afternoon activity to be sure. And I shall be paying full price for my Chinese made goods for the foreseeable future, or at least until we get the guts to show our face there again...
The good news is that she hasn't puked since Saturday night, and she is at school today. I fully expect a call from the school nurse after she attempts to ingest what the school cafeteria menu whimsically described as 'popcorn chicken w/roll'. Do explain to me why chicken nuggets require an additional carb loading bread course? Perhaps as a grease absorbing medium?
Until then I shall attempt to shove as many vomit crusted laundry items into my washer as might reasonably fit and enjoy the silence.
Well, Ms. Suck-it-up is on day 8 of Pukapolloza 2008 with Lilly. I know you must be thinking, 'how could you blame an 8-year old for vomiting'?
It's real easy.
The child has a hair-trigger puke reflex. I know that most people who had what she has would be able to hold it down. Okay, I don't KNOW that, but I want to believe it. Anyway, I challenge any of you to get vomited on in Big Lots and not be the slightest bit bitter. Of course, who must really be bitter is the bottle blonde Big Lots employee who had the gross (literally) misfortune to walk by just as my sweet princess was yakking up her fruit and yogurt parfait. She was left with quite an exhilarating afternoon activity to be sure. And I shall be paying full price for my Chinese made goods for the foreseeable future, or at least until we get the guts to show our face there again...
The good news is that she hasn't puked since Saturday night, and she is at school today. I fully expect a call from the school nurse after she attempts to ingest what the school cafeteria menu whimsically described as 'popcorn chicken w/roll'. Do explain to me why chicken nuggets require an additional carb loading bread course? Perhaps as a grease absorbing medium?
Until then I shall attempt to shove as many vomit crusted laundry items into my washer as might reasonably fit and enjoy the silence.
Esther: I am becoming more and more annoyed with the term "reality TV"
The shows that bear this label are in no way founded in reality of any kind. They are, in fact, one of the oldest genres known to the viewing masses. They are...game shows.
Yes, they are. Think about it. You have contestants, competing for a prize. That is a game show. The only difference is they put them in a remote location, or make them swim in a tank of snakes or have them get from Paris to Istanbul with a scooter and a backpack.You give the contestants on the "Price is Right" a chance to confabulate offstage to the camera about how they should have gone a little higher on the price of that Hoover vacuum and how Sarah from Topeka is out to get him, and you have what is essentially "Survivor" in a Burbank studio.Reality television is a camera in my living room 24/7 with no editing and trust me, nobody wants to watch that.
Yes, they are. Think about it. You have contestants, competing for a prize. That is a game show. The only difference is they put them in a remote location, or make them swim in a tank of snakes or have them get from Paris to Istanbul with a scooter and a backpack.You give the contestants on the "Price is Right" a chance to confabulate offstage to the camera about how they should have gone a little higher on the price of that Hoover vacuum and how Sarah from Topeka is out to get him, and you have what is essentially "Survivor" in a Burbank studio.Reality television is a camera in my living room 24/7 with no editing and trust me, nobody wants to watch that.
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