Saturday, December 31, 2005

Ways in Which to Annoy My Husband

I'm a movie talker. I don't do it when we're in the theaters, but at home, I can't help it. It's why Mr X usually wears headphones. I can talk and he doesn't have to hear me.
Tonight he didn't.
Tonight he made me watch Star Wars III. I don't mind really, but it's definitely not my usual thing.

Tonight, I got The Look for the following:

*Repeatedly referring to the movie as Star Trek. At first, it was an innocent mistake but when he started getting annoyed, it was just funny.

* When the Chancellor turned to whats-his-face-that-turns-into-Garth-Vader and said "I have good news", without missing a beat I shouted "I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico!"

*Repeatedly asking when 'Garth' Vader was going to show up. Yes I know it's Darth. But Garth is funnier.

* Asking if he ever noticed that his mom kind of looks like Yoda, only not so wise.

* "Water, you will pass Mr X-ey one"

* "You kind of look like that Dog thing honey."
"That's a Wookie Mrs X"
"Bless you."
"I thought you sneezed."

* Telling my increasingly less patient husband that Garth Vader was hot with that mask on and the heavy breathing? What a turn on! I bet he made great dirty phone calls.

*Asking why Captain Picard wasn't in there fighting with the force.

* Asking who the gold man was about 6 times. And no I don't remember.

* Telling him R2D2 looked like a trash can on wheels and that I dressed as him for halloween one year as a kid.

* Telling him I wanted an R2D2 for my birthday so I wouldn't have to dust anymore.

* Repeatedly referring to Samuel L Jackson as Julien and saying that it would be so much more kick ass if he'd start doing that speech he always did in Pulp Fiction. Can you picture Yoda as John Travolta? Doing the twist with Uma? Uh-huh. Totally kick ass right?

He went to bed before the movie was even over. His headphones are charging so there's always next time!

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Poking the Bear

The bear being Baby X and the poking being those evil evil vaccinations! And before I get any comments via here or e-mail, I vax because the alternative, for me, is far scarier. I'll be damned if I'm going to take a chance on that!
Check-up was good, kid is a total string bean; lean and lanky. He had 2 nurses to give him the shots. I laid him back and he flirted with them and talked until *jab* *jab* AARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And OH!! The look he gave them! Because he was just so OFFENDED!
Here he was flirting away, batting his baby blues, smiling that toothy grin, cooing softly, he'd gently tough their arms with his hands and dip his chin and then, OH AND THEN!! The pain! They had the nerve! to give him shots!
They left them room as I consoled him and then redressed him. I put his little Santa hat back on him. *sniff sniff* He smiled at me and things were right again.
Until we walked out into the hall.
Baby X has always been a happy baby. Full of smiles, friend of all.
We stepped out into the hallway and where he spotted the nurses.
He threw his head back and began to WAIL!! OH the HUMANITY!! He laid his head down on my shoulder and just SOBBED!! PITY ME!! Those awful awful people hurt my poor little legs!! And OH! How they HURT!!
He'd peek back up to see if they were still there and wail even louder! The other nurses were fawning over the poor poor baby. His Dr came out to see what the fuss was and I just shrugged my shoulders 'it's not me!' I got out to the receptionist to make our next appointment. He flirted with both receptionists as he always does.
When one of the shot nurses came around the corner, he stuck out his lower lip and sniffled. Little tears running down his cheeks.
More fawning for Baby X.
By the time we got out of there, he was smiling and laughing and carrying on as he always does.

My little Ham.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

This Message Brought to You by Baby X

Dear Readers,
I have taken over Mommy's blog just long enough to tell you that all is once again well. Your concern has been greatly appreciated. I can now fishhook my sister, pinch my mommy, poke Cat in the eye or butt (whichever is closer), and pick up cookies. Yes, dear readers, my (Favorite!!) finger has returned to all it's functional glory as evidenced by the picture below.

Again, thank you truly,
Baby X

**Yes, that is his finger in his nose.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Oh. Gah! That's Blood! I Mean.... Gah! **UPDATED** 2x because it just wasn't long enough!

I don't really swear very often. I've learned to censor myself since I have a couple of midget parrots who listen to EVERYTHING I SAY AND THEN REPEAT. Usually at totally innappropriate times. Like in the middle of dinner with my grandparents when Girl X (3 at the time) told them to pull her damn finger she had to fart. I nearly choked on my water and my Grandpa had to leave the table because he couldn't stop laughing.
Tonight? It was not a night to test my censorship abilities.
I believe fuckity fuck came out of my mouth a number of times. In my defense, it's not often that I see Baby X's blood on the outside of his body. (You know, as opposed to all the times I've seen it on the inside of his body. What?)
The evening started out well enough. We were waiting for Mr X to get home. It was the first night all week I didn't feel like I was going to keel over from running around all day and night. Baby X had decided that Girl X's door was fun to play with.
We banged as loud as we could with our hands. She'd open it and say boo. Back and forth. He laughed. It was great fun for all. (Gee, I'm so glad we have all those interesting, loud and educational toys for Baby X.) Then Girl X peeked around her door at me. She started to close her door when I saw Baby X was playing with the hinge of the door. The hinge that is inside her room. And we were outside. Um.
"Don't close the door!"
She was like a millisecond from having it totally shut. She quickly opened it.
Huh. There's a little spot of red on the door. Now where did that come from?
Look at Baby X.
Oh Shit! Oh Fuckity Fuck!
He was doing that noiseless scream. Typically reserved for when something really really really hurts. Duh mom! Of course it hurt! What a stupid thing to say. And you just sat there for what seemed like an eternity with this 'uhhh' look on your face while I BLED!! Hello? BLED I SAY!!!!
I grabbed him and ran into the bathroom. How bad could it be? It was just a door right?
The pad of the tip of his finger was a little more than halfway off.
I grabbed gauze and tried to stop the bleeding. Yeah. What was that? I've got this BLOOD coming out of my finger, which? I have so much more to say about that! And you stick some kind of papery stuff, hold my finger up and squeeze? What is wrong with you? I mean really! I'm bleeding. You're supposed to drop everything and make it better. Like instantly! And the finger? Oh my GOSH people! Readers? Out there seeing these words right now? I have to tell you. It wasn't just any finger ok? It was my FAVORITE finger. The one I point at everything with. I use it to poke my sister in the eye. I use it to shake indignantly at my mom or my sister or my dad when they won't give me cookies... mmmm cookies. What was I saying? Oh right. The finger. And oh! THE BLOOD! Wow. Just. My favorite finger and. Blood. And she sticks, what was that? Gauze? Yeah. Gauze on my finger. For what?
The blood kept coming so I said 'Gah!' Grabbed a band aid because you know, nothing says good mom better than a SpongeBob band aid on a half chopped finger. What is a SpongeBob? And what is this thing on my finger? First, there's the blood and now there's this strange blue thing stuck to my finger and it won't come off! Help me!
We get to the hospital right in time for everyone else to get there too. By now, Baby X isn't screaming anymore. Girl X is still crying because she feels HORRIBLE because OH MY GOSH MOM I CUT OFF MY BROTHER"S FINGER AND AHHHHH!!!! So, I had to keep telling ehr accidents happen and if she only knew some of the things she had to go to the hospital for...... er. um. Accidents happen. He won't remember it later anyway.
We go to check in and there is noone there. We're in an emergency room and there is NO ONE TO HELP US! HELLO?? There is a line forming behind us. I finally say screw being polite. "Hello? Anyone help?"
Check in and am told to wait. Which, I expected I mean. Finger. Not life threatening.
We walk over and look at the fish tank. Fish? Oh I like, wait. What is this thing on my finger? I want to point at the fish and there is this thing on my finger! Gah!
"Look mom! Dead fish."
What? No. I don't think that's dead. I mean, dead fish float to the top and this one is just kind of hanging out in the coral with his face down in where we can't see it and his tail sticking straight up.
Dead fish float. Right?
When that fish finally did come out, uh. I wish it had stayed in. It was ugly. So ugly. Mom! My finger! Remember? My favorite finger? The one I use to stick up my nose?
Waiting to get called back and I decided we all needed a bathroom break so I told the nurse and she said not to worry.
And when we came back she said 'sorry, I just let someone else go in front of you. You'll get called back soon.'
Of course. You can sit in a hospital waiting room for an hour and they won't call you back until you get up to use the restroom. Never fails.
We finally get taken back to a room.
Where we get to wait and wait some more. Only now? No fish to look at it!

2 1/2 hours later, the Dr walks in and spends all of 2 minutes looking at his finger before he asks me what I'd like to do. What? Did I get a medical degree in your waiting room? What???
If we had been seen 30 minutes earlier, he wouldn't have hesitated to start stictching. But, now it was borderline. It was starting to clot and heal. It was iffy whehter he really needed a stitch or not.
I chose not. Because really? This kid would have been pulling on it and chewing on it and if it wasn't 100% neccessary, why bother. And yes. He will have a scar. But once it's too late for stitches, he would've had one anyway. Did you even think to mention how it HURT to have that strange guy pulling on my finger and bending it like that? Oh and what about that stupid joke with Girl X? Offering her a pony in exchange for me? What was that? Although, maybe I should have said yes. I bet he wouldn't have let my finger, my favorite finger!, get hurt.
So after 3 hours what did we get?

A band-aid.

They were going to wrap it up in some red stretchy stuff- ha! A big red bump where his finger should be!- but Baby x, like me, has a latex allergy. So instead, a giant band aid (no SpongeBob?!?!) that wrapped aorund his finger about a hundred gazillion times! What the.. I mean come on! Of all the darned things... Really? I mean. Really? How am I supposed to bend my finger? Do you know how hard it is to fishhook someone when you can't bend your finger? Well. I do. What next? Wrap up my arm so I can't grab Cat? Gah! Are you all getting the magnitude (do you like how I, a babe of barely a year, can use such big words like magnitude and indignant?), of this? It's my FINGER! I need this finger. A lot. I pick up cookise with this finger! Oh for the love of........ yawn..... uh. ZZZZZZZ....................

So then we had to wait for discharge papers. And after 30 minutes, it dawned on me that I was waiting for someone to tell me how to care for a band aid. A BAND AID!!!
So I left.
Without the papers.
I'm expecting the discharge paper police to show up at my door at any moment. Right behind the favorite finger police.

Mr X likes to point out how I'm all long winded (and so?) and yes, I totally could have finished this post neatly in like 6 words.
Baby. Finger. Door. Blood. Ouch. Band-aid.

But that does not capture the full picture. The magnitude mom! It's my ffffffavorite!! Zzzzzzzzz
So. It's long. But what did you expect from me?

*Updated AGAIN*
Today we went stocking stuffer shopping. Baby X has been his normal happy self until someone talks to him and then he gets all solemn and holds up his finger and I SWEAR HIS EYES GET WATERY!! and starts "uuuhhhh huh uhuhhhuh uhhh oooo" and then he smiles sweetly. I think it means 'look! Crazy people hurt my finger! Call CPS! I'll smile so she doesn't get what's up! Come on! Dial! Dial!' Actually mom, I'm trying to tell them about this stupid thing you stuck on my finger, my FAVORITE FINGER AGGG!!! and I can't bend it and would they be so kind as to give me a cookie. Then I smile to show them how cute I am. And as soon as I can coordinate myself, this thing is coming off. OFF, you hear me? Now where's my cookie?

Note to Women Everywhere

I know it's winter and the perfect time to skip shaving every now and then. When you're all bundled up no one knows. Your significant other is sworn to secrecy at the risk of limbs they hold dearly.
However, if you are going to wear capris; in freezing! icy! weather, shave. And for the love of all that is good and holy, put some lotion on your legs!
When you can map New York City on your legs from all the cracks, it's time to use some lotion.
And the reason my son looked at you so oddly lady at the dentist's office is that he's really only seen that much hair on a leg on his dad. And he was pretty sure you were a woman. Not, as you stated, because he is mentally retarded.

The hell?



Tuesday, December 13, 2005

"What's that? What's that?"

Baby X has found his voice before his feet. While his sister is home, I hear him screaming through the house for her as they chase each other through the hall and into the kitchen. Back down the hall again with him, like a siren, dropping the first letter of her name and the last part of it completely.
"Gog!' at the sight of our Dog or any dog now. "Goggoggoggoggoggoggog mama."
Yes. That's a dog.
"ARCKHS! Mama!" sends fear into our cat and causes him to quickly run as he realizes he has been spotted.
"No." When I say it's bedtime or bathtime.
Please get Cat's head out of your mouth Baby X. "mrmphnauuu" Translation? "No."
"Wow" when the lights on the Christmas tree come on. Or the camera flashes. Or mommy managed to take yet another spill down the driveway in front of all the neighbors.
And the current favorite "sss tat?" and he points to whatever it is that has caught his eye. Sometimes to the same thing over and over again.
"sss tat?" My nose.
"sss tat?" Ow. My eye.
"sss tat?" Mauu mauhth.

Today it was at the book store. Up and down the aisles.
"wow. sss tat?" To the children's section.
"sss tat? gog?" Yes. Picture of a dog on a book.
"sss tat?" Um. 'That' is one very grumpy looking person glaring at me for my stroller being in her direct path. "No. ARCKHS!" Not a cat honey.

When we got to the front to pay for my copy of The Velveteen Rabbit (I love that story!) there was another little one. A 7 month girl with the sweetest toothless grin!
And suddenly, Baby X stopped talking in a language I could almost understand.
They touched hands and smiled and laughed and babbled their own secret language.
Baby X: My mom puts me in stupid hats. Does yours?
New baby: No. But she keeps putting me in these flowery dresses and it is so last season!
Baby X: Nah. You look fine. Does your mom poke you when you're sleeping? I pretend to stay sleeping and then wait an hour and start screaming. As soon as she comes in the room, I go back to sleep. I figure eventually she's going to learn right?
New baby: Dude! That's brilliant! My mom pokes me too! I'm going to start doing that too.

And when it was time for new baby to go, Baby X waved and said "Bye-eye!"
"Sss tat?" and then he noticed the female clerk and went into flirt mode.

Just as when he was tiny and new, I find myself wondering just what it is that goes through his mind each day. What is he thinking? What is he trying so hard to tell me?
Mr X bets that it's that he hates his hats.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Get Her a Padded Suit

"Mrs X, this is the school nurse. Your daughter fell off the monkey bars while doing a back off with a half twist. Don't worry, she broke the fall with her face. Can you come pick her up? She's easy to see. The egg she now has doesn't fit in the room so part of her will be sitting on the curb when you pull up."

Ok, so the egg wasn't quite that big. And I really have no idea what she was trying to do. I do know that this is not the first time she has tried to do it, and landed on her face. The nurse has my number on speed dial. Has since Kindergarten when Girl X decided to take a boy up on a dare.
I believe it started when he said something about girls in skirts are sissies. Something that my little skirt-wearing tomboy wouldn't take sitting down. The school has this slide that seems to go on forever. Facing downhill. Screaming for kids to break the rules and ride it backwards and upside down.
She waited until all the kids were being called to go back to class and she knew the playground patrol would be busy. She climbed to the top, layed down on her tummy and went backwards down the wet slide and straight into the bark and dirt at the bottom.
She walked back to class without saying a word.
No way was she telling! One, she probably would have cried the way I did when I saw her after school and she was not giving some boy the satisfaction. Two, she was pretty sure she had done something stupid and therefore, trouble!
The teacher asked her about the hole in her tights. Did she fall? Girl X shrugged and went back to work.
She got off the bus at the end of the day and we walked home. She didn't say a word until we got to the garage.
"Mom. I have to show you something."
When she lifted her shirt, she had angry red cuts and scratches from her chest to her bellybutton and all across her abdomen. It was beginning to bruise underneath the cuts.
She healed but she didn't learn.
I make regular trips to the nurses office now. I have no doubt that it will continue as, I believe I've mentioned this before, she has inherited my gracefullness and my husband's sense of adventure. Someone who managed to break her foot tripping over a brick and someone who thought parachuting would be fun (after my look of death, he settled for shopping on black friday and dinner with his mom).
Note to Baby X: Mom can only handle one daredevil at a time. Please stick to trying to make Cat pull you around the house by his back legs and eating his tail. Thanks.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

How I Found My Faith

There is nothing more frightening then seeing your child lying in a hospital bed and listening to the Dr say 'Just one more test.'
When Girl X was a baby it started. Frequent high temperatures. 3 am, checking her temp and Oh lord! No. 105? Really. That's bad. What to do? Cool cloth. Tylenol. She's so red. Her breathing is so painfully slow. Hospital. I can't tell you how many times we repeated that scenario for the next 2 years. Once by ambulance.
She had been off that day. Not eating well but still playing. Pedialyte and cuddling. Bedtime. Check on her at 11 pm. She's hot. Red. Taking her jammies off and her skin feels like fire. Breathing is rapid now. Then she started seizing. I don't really know how high her temp was. I didn't check.
I called for an ambulance. My neighbor in the next apartment heard me and came over.
I wasn't particularly religious at that time. Truthfully, I feel that I had lost my faith. But seeing her there, seizing, shaking. I found myself on my knees begging God for mercy and strength. Begging for her.
I heard the sirens and snatched her up. Ran down stairs half panicked. Jumped in the ambulance when they had barely opened the doors and cried for them to please go now. They took her from me and began their routine. My neighbor grabbed my hand and we prayed together now.
Just one more test but no answers.
Months passed and the fevers seemed to be under control. No more febrile seizures but still no answers.
She turned 3 and started preschool. Time passed.
"Did you ever notice something off?"
And then I watched her even closer than ever. She turned 4 and we finally got an appointment with a neurologist and finally. An answer.
Complex Partial Seizure Disorder. Not horrible but yeah. Tests. Sleeping and awake. They watched her brain do it's thing. MRI to see if they could tell where it was originating from. It was awful. They had to give her an IV and put her to sleep. It was loud. I sat in the room with her and tried not to cry. Things could be worse. We were at Children's Hospital. I had looked around and knew, things could be worse.
She didn't shake. She just went somewhere. Her fingers would work themselves as she stared, vacant. Not there. Don't move her. It's confusing to be playing in your room and then suddenly. Blink. The kitchen. She doesn't understand how she got here. She would cry. Disoriented. She said it smelled funny. She had trouble with her bladder.
Nights of sitting by her bed. Listen to her breath. Touch her hair. Kiss her cheek. Cool. Not hot.
Watching her play then her fingers begin working. Eyes blank. Hold her hand. Brush her hair from her eyes. Kiss her head. It's over. Play with her. Don't cry in front of her. Don't look worried. Don't scare her.
The Doctors and tests scared her.
Hold her closer. Watch her when she eats. Can't have her choke.
The medication.
Here's a little puzzle for you.
To get a one month supply of Girl X's meds in the US cost us $565 by the time she was at her full dosage. $565 a month.
We ordered a 3 month supply from Canada. Same meds. Same Brand. 3 months for $216.
$565 for 1 month. $216 for 3 months.
Can you explain that one to me? Because I haven't found anyone who can tell me why and have it make any sense.
The medication. We had to build up to it slowly. Half a pill a week at a time until she was taking 6 pills a day.
6 pills a day for 3 years. No slumber parties away from home. She can't shower by herself. She can't ever be left alone in the tub. She could have a seizure and drown.
2 years seizure free. We could begin taking her off the meds. Slowly. Too fast could be very dangerous for her.
Please God let this work. Please God let her be free now.
I had found my faith. I had found it in the back of an ambulance listening to the siren. I found it in the loud banging of the MRI. I found it in her eyes when she took her last pill.
3 months now and no seizures. 3 more months and we can breath. 3 more months and the likely hood of her ever having another seizure is so low it's laughable. Almost.
She will always be more likely than those who have never had a seizure to have one. Her brother is more likely than others to end up with the same affliction. The risk is small, but it's there.
We watch. We wait. We pray.
Slowly, Girl X is able to focus more easily on her schoolwork. Her reading has caught up to grade level. Getting better daily. Her memory is improving. The medication did it's job but it also took over part of her brain. Numbed it. Slowed it down. It had to. Now it's out of her system and it's like those parts that were sleeping are waking up, catching up.
We don't know what caused her seizures. Was it genetic? The constant high fevers? A fall? A fluke? We'll never know.
I found my faith when my kid got sick. It stayed when she got better.
We were lucky. We were blessed. It could have been so much worse.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Dear Santa,

For Christmas this year I would like some Bratz dolls. That is all. My brother likes trucks and toys that give mom a headache. A drum on wheels would be perfect. In exchange I will leave you some cookies. They are really good. I am hiding some from Dad just for you. I will try not to eat all of the ones I am hiding for you. If I do I am sorry and maybe you'll get cookies next door because Neighbor X's dad doesn't like cookies.
I bet I have been very good this year. Just don't ask my mom ok?
Love, Girl X

PS Mom says I am getting snowman poo. She is kidding me right?

And I ask now as I have asked many times over the years......
Where did she come from?!!??!?!

Friday, December 09, 2005

Stupid Things I've Done Today

I do stupid things everyday. Kultzy things. Verbal things that should never have been said. Things for which I cannot explain. Today was no exception.
To give you insight into what it's like for Mr X to come home every day I've decided to share them with you. That poor poor man. He so foolishly, er, bravely asks me every day how my day was. This is an example of what he's treated to.

*I spent my morning scraping burnt pancake off the microwave because I mistakenly set the timer for 30 minutes not 30 seconds before going to get myself and Baby X dressed. I stopped and helped Girl X with her clothes and made my bed and thought to myself "I'm really on top of it today. Yay me!" I gathered my things to be ready to go grocery shopping and... wait.... *sniff*... what's that smell? *POP* EW! What is that smell? Wait. The microwave is still running? Crap! Yeah. So. Ew. And pop tarts for Breakfast because I suck and my kids teeth are all going to rot out of her pretty little head if I keep this up!

*I ran over my own foot at the grocery store. I still don't know how I did it. My toes had barely recovered from Thanksgiving and then? Ow. Cart. Smashed toes hate me.

*I was carrying in the groceries after putting Baby X down for a nap and I lost my grip on one of the bags. And of all the bags it would be? The one with the spaghetti sauce of course! I was standing in my driveway in freezing weather spraying ragu off into the grass. And that of course made the driveway extra slippy. Which? I found out when I tried to bring in the next bag of groceries and fell on my ass people! My neighbors think I'm an idiot who can't walk. Or I drink.

*I managed to get all the groceries put away with only slamming my finger in a cabinet once. I sat down to eat lunch, yeah! Then I heard feet on the steps to my front door. I had to run fast to stop the UPS guy from ringing the doorbell or knocking (Causing Dog to bark) and thereby waking up Baby X. I was running up the stairs waving my arms like a madwoman and? Totally bit it. I crashed forward and slammed my chin into the top step. I howled and the UPS guy looked horrified. At least the neighbors couldn't see me.

*You would think that I had done enough damage to myself for one day. Right? You'd be wrong.
I had to go back out to my van to grab some wrapping paper. I opened the garage but before it came all the way up I decided to just duck under it. Because I? Dumbass.
I smashed my head right into the bottom of the door. And that HURT!! Still hurts.
I was almost ok but then I felt wet. I cut my head. Just a little, but ahh! Blood! And my neighbors? More reason for them to think I'm an idiot. Or a drunk.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Send in The Clowns.......

Mr X and I got married when Girl X was 4. (He adopted her last year. Another story for another day if I actually remember that I was going to post about it.) We managed to avoid all the big to-do's and my MIL by just going to Las Vegas. My family was there and some of his family. Very small and just right for us. As a momento, we had gotten her a clown. It's sparkly and sits in this canister. She has never taken it out of the canister. It sits on her shelf, smiling that freakish smile that clowns have.
The first week we were back from Vegas, I was sitting in the living room doing some paperwork. I had put Girl X down for bed an hour before and had already told her twice to stop playing and go to sleep. Mr X was watching tv.
She came stomping out to the kitchen carrying this clown in the canister with her and she looked furious. I got up to put her back to bed and tell her now is no playtime. Instead I watched as she put the clown down facing the corner, stepped back and with her hands on her hips did the best mommy impression I have ever seen.
Waggling her finger at it....
"Now you just sit there and think about what you did. It's not play time it's sleep time and I better not hear 'nother peep outta' you or I'll give you a what for mister!"
And with that she turned and marched herself back to bed. As she went down the hall, she yelled back "Nobody talk to that boy! He's in trouble."
Within 5 minutes she was asleep and I was still standing in the kitchen with the clown in the corner. Mr X and I jsut looked at eachother and burst out laughing.
I still don't know what 'what for' is or where she ever heard it. But that clown still sits on her shelf. Every now and then I hear her tell it to go to sleep. And I giggle thinking of that little powerhouse in the kitchen yelling at her toy.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

"I Have Worms in Me"

*Shiver* That still gives me chills. I keep hearing it over and over in my head.
I was watching some show on TLC and this Dr was talking about a patient he once had who was um... slightly mentally disturbed? She kept saying over and over "I have worms in me". All calm and matter of fact. "I have worms in me."
The Dr prepared to do his thing and just happened to catch a glimpse of her arm. When he pushed up her sleeve he saw that her arm was BLACK FROM THE NASTIEST CUT EVER!! And this is what I was watching before bed? And I wonder why I have the strangest dreams? Her arm was black up to her elbow.
"I have worms in me."
At this point the Dr has pretty much said to hell with the worms, this cut is pretty bad. Gee, ya' think?
He decides to take a look in the cut to see how deep it goes and, wait? Are you eating right now? Because really? You should stop reading. Or eating. Because you know what I'm about to say right?
The Dr nearly fell out of his chair because SHE HAD WORMS IN HER. They were slithering through her cut arm. He started pulling them out with forceps. She named them as he pulled them out ad got upset because she thought he was hurting them. There were 6 or 7 of those earthworms in her arm.
Once he had them all out, he set about to clean up her arm. She looked at him and smiled.
"I have worms in me."
"Yes you did."

"I have worms in me."
And then she pulled up her other sleeve.
I had to stop watching once he began to pull more worms out. I wanted to go to sleep that night without having any more of that image in my head.
Still, her voice replayed in my head all night.
"I have worms in me."
And I wonder what it is that compels a person, even someone who is mentally disabled, to dig into themselves and fill that cut with worms.
Is it loneliness? That would seem like the most logical answer right?
And it makes me sad. It even makes me miss my old job. I used to be an aide for mentally disabled persons who lived on their own. They all had a variety of mental disabilities and many capabilities. Most had jobs. They shared an apartment or home with another disabled person in the program I worked for. The one thing they all had in common was that they had been abandoned. Most did have families, but only one ever saw their child and then only once a month. But they had eachother. And they had us.
But it got to be too much. A few would get violent and if you didn't know how to deflect them, you could get seriously hurt. Some had medical problems that just made you ache to watch them. It seemed to me that with their lot in life the least they could have would be their physical health. I had to leave that job as much as I did love it. Most of the people who worked their burned out. And so did I.
Still, I have moments where I miss it.

Those little stars are just to say I'm done being serious right now. Because I wanted to get back to my original subject. See, I made the mistake of telling Mr X about that show and 'I have worms in me' and now? He's torturing me with it.
This morning he was whispering in my ear as I lay half asleep "I have woorrrrmmmmssss in me".
As he kissed me goodnight tonight "You have worms in you!"
And he's enjoying this way too much!
Especially since now? I have to keep rubbing my arms.

"I have worms in me"

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

A Visit with The Doctor

And I don't mean me so please don't start e-mailing me any odd medical questions or nasty pictures of some oozing purple cut. *shiver* There's a mental image I didn't want!
I mean the visit Baby X had with his Dr for his one year check up. Ok, maybe slightly less interesting but it wins because there are no disgusting pictures to go with it. (And if any of you smart asses send me anything gross *R!!*, I'm posting it. Keep that in mind).
He was sick, so no shots this time. We have to go back in a few weeks when he is over his ear infection. I'm sure that will be..... fun. Well, maybe for the nurse who turns into a total sadist when she gets that needle in her hand.
They weighed him... Chunk!!! They measured his height... Shorty!
And during all this he squirmed and rolled and did crunches because he does not like being on his back.
When the Dr came in she wanted to poke him, pinch him and otherwise check him over. He? Was not having ANY PART OF THIS CRAZY LADY WITH A STICK!
In desperation to get him to just lay still for a moment, I resorted to something that elicited many a giggle from the Dr and I'm sure the odd look from anyone who managed to hear me.......


And my little monster? Threw himself down, punched out his stomach, raised his arms and smiled big in anticipation of getting eaten up!
It amazes me what I will resort to just to get this kid to do what needs to be done.
He was rewarded with many a raspberry on his tummy and sides.
And when I left to go to the receptionist to schedule his next appointment, I was met with a few grins and a little old lady who smiled and said "I'd eat him up too if I had any teeth."

He's one!

What a difference a year can make!

He's one! I have to keep reminding myself that a year has already passed. Soon I'll have to stop calling him Baby X and start calling him what? Toddler X maybe? We'll see once he starts walking. Girl X was a late walker too. He likes to hitchhike. He'll grab the pant leg of anyone walking by and toddle along with them.
His party was this weekend and he was sick. He wouldn't touch his cake or ice cream. The cake I could kind of see but ice cream? This kid will appear out of nowhere when you open an ice cream container. He knows exactly how much ice cream is in a pint and just how much he should get before you put it away! But he wanted nothing to do with it at his party.
He did enjoy playing with his cousin. She is 6 months older than him but smaller. She was sitting there quietly playing on the floor when Baby X decided that she needed to be tackled and climbed on. She was crying her little eyes off and Baby X just sat on her and smiled. It's not that he meant to hurt her or make her cry. He only does this with people he really likes. I think Cousin X would just have rather had him not like ehr so much!
Sadly, anytime she saw him after that she would run and try to hide and he, thinking "yay! She wants to play chase with me!" would run afte rher laughing.

My Mother in Law is currently furious with me. I returned the dress she bought Girl X for her birthday. it was 2 sizes too big and nothing she would ever wear. MIL showed up at the party with the same dress in Girl X's size and asked for the other dress back. The misunderstanding was cleared up but she asked to see what I exchanged it for and was furious that I hadn't gotten her another dress. Mr X laughed and told me that she will never forget or forgive me. Not that it really matters since she hates me anyway. It's just one more strike against me.
She also told us that she had to return Baby X's present because she had bought a size 4. For some reason she always buys clothes 2- 3 times too big. Oh, and she argued with me because she thinks Baby X is 2 and we're all lying to her that he's only 1. Methinks she's off the meds again.

Sunday, December 04, 2005


I was going to Blog about Baby X's first birthday party tonight (*tear*) but I'll save that for when I'm not falling asleep at the keyboard.
Instead, I have to tell you what happened today because seriously? This keeps happening! Maybe not this exact thing (although, yeah) but just being in the right place at the right time I guess?
We have this reward system set up for Girl X. She gets punished for bad behavior, but more importantly, she gets rewarded for outstanding behavior. Good grades, doing good things without being asked, doing something sweet for her brother, etc. She had earned a 'reward' and decided that she wanted us all to go out to lunch together. Nothing really exciting, just a Burger King playland. While there another group joined us. 2 sisters and their kids, husbands, brother and parents. The moms insisted that their kids wear their shoes in the playland whihc you aren't supposed to do. Rebels! The part that made me snort chicken was when one of them said "It's filthy in there so keep your shoes on."
These kids are crawling through the playland. Exactly what will keeping their shoes on protect?
They were loud- like yelling loud. But their kids were so cute!
We just ignored them and carried on. After awhile they got up and left.
We ate and Girl X played.
I went up to get her a sundae pie.
There was this cute little boy pacing back and forth.
He looked kind of familiar.
Right at the moment it hit me, I saw Mr X come up.
He looked at me and pointed to the boy "They left him."

Yeah. They left this kid. In Burger King. He was 6 or 7 maybe?
I stopped him from going out and asked the manager for the phone. Thankfully the kid knew his phone number but at this point he was in tears. They left him!!
In their defense, there were 3 cars and lots of kids. I'm sure they thought he was in another car. And I'm equally sure she felt awful realizing her wasn't.
When the mom came back that kid bolted across the parking lot and wrapped his arms around her and she mouthed thank you to me. I could feel her relief from across the parking lot.

I bet that kid gets whatever he wants for Christmas.
We all do stupid things

Friday, December 02, 2005

Guess What I did Today!!

Go on, you'll never guess.....

I went shopping!! I know, you never saw that coming right? Honestly this really is unusual for me because I rarely go shopping, but it is Christmas. There is something about Christmas that makes my Mastercard hate me.
I had to go to Borders to get a gift card and they had all these bargain kid's books. Harold and the Purple Crayon! 50% off! And then a stationary set for Girl X's teacher.....
I love shopping.
Baby X loves the flirting. I caught him feeling up the nice clerk who was helping me with some books. Just running his hand up and down her leg.
I'm lucky she had a sense of humor.
And I still have nothing for Mr X.
I need some ideas! So I'm going to ask you and I know you're watching....

What are you getting your significant others for the Holidays?

Thursday, December 01, 2005

I'm raising an Obsessive Compulsive and Other Random Notes

First? It's snowing! Yay! I love snow. I miss snow. We don't get enough of it here. Like, it snows and we can make a snowman but we have to use every bit of snow in our yard. But now it's snowing and did I tell you? I LOVE snow! I'm doing the snoopy dance right now.
Jumping to a new topic......
I had to go shopping again today. Yes I HAD to. No really, we needed food. And Christmas presents. Again. But I'm wondering what it is about the Holidays that brings out the worst in some people. Because y'all I have met every grumpy grousy (is grousy a word?) sour face today.
There was the guy that yelled at me to watch where I was going when I was standing there, totally not moving, looking at CDs. There was the guy that rammed this poor elderly lady because she couldn't move the motorized cart fast enough and then ran when I yelled at him and yes I SO DID YELL AT HIM even though he was way bigger than me.
And on and on. Seriously? What is it about the Holidays that make everyone turn into such sour snots?

And jumping subjects again because I'm good at it and it's fun and I don't want to make a new post when this one is just fine thank you very much. (See? Run-ons and that part of my brain that makes me stop is sleeping.)

Baby X is turning all OCD on me. He closes doors and cabinets and drawers. If I lift the arm of his car seat he slams it back down and then glares at me. If he sees my hand go anywhere near it he starts YELLING at me! We got him one of those pop up toys with like 5 animals that pop up when you push the button or slide the lever and so on. He hears one come up and he races over to it to slam it back down because he cannot stand to see it open!
The hell people!
And we're so mean because we'll sit there and open those little animals over and over again and watch him close them and then he will throw himself on to the toy to keep us from opening it again and again. It was missing for awhile and then I found it buried under all his other toys. So, being his mom and oh so in love with him, I opened up all the doors and set it in the middle of the room so he can't miss it when he wakes up.