I will probably have to cut this short, since I am heading to parent-teacher conferences in a few minutes. I am making a list of all the things I will NOT miss after emptying my nest, so when I am missing my kids I can pull out that list and dwell on all the positive aspects of being sad and lonely and without kids. And PT conferences will definitely be on that list. It’s not that I don’t like teachers. It’s just that they never have any good snacks there. Usually just some dry cookies and coffee, which I don’t drink. One time they had no snacks AT ALL and when I complained, the principal brought me a package of those honey graham bear things that he had hiding somewhere in his office. Like that was going to appease me.
So I took Emily to an interview last night for a scholarship. She was very nervous and I don’t think I helped much as I bombarded her with the following common sense "tips" right before she went in:
1. Don’t giggle or play with your hair.
2. Don’t start every sentence with the words "Well, um..."
3. Don’t talk about your Uggs or your trip to Paris last summer.
4. Don’t tell them your mom and dad are lawyers.
5. Don’t respond to any statement with the word "cool".
Afterwards she reported that she broke at least two of the above rules AND she didn’t make good eye contact. Bummer. She also went completely blank when asked to name her favorite WWII general...after she told them she was a WWII buff. (We’re lucky she didn’t say James Franco.) But I guess the real low point was when she exclaimed at one point "I LOVE cheerleading!" which is not even true. But all’s well that ends well, because she already got an email telling her she got one of the scholarships. I’m thinking that panel of interviewers took pity on the poor lost child.
So I really do need to go. But before I close, I had a bowl of Cocoa Krispies for lunch at home, but then our bookkeeper had brought a crockpot of chicken soup to work and I had a bowl of that as well. Bonus.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Breakfast Club
Dave says we’ve become one of those families that lives from crisis to crisis. And sadly, this is true. We’ve been plagued by one thing or another these past few months, and we are getting far too well acquainted with the emergency rooms around here. So I know any day now, people will start hiding and/or running in the opposite direction when they see us coming. And they’ll ignore our calls, avoid our eyes, and NEVER, EVER ask us "how are you". It’s inevitable. Which is why blogging about my various crises will become more and more important to my emotional well being...as it will be my only outlet. Just a fair warning...
So let’s start with the latest crisis which occurred over lunch JUST TODAY! Kind of exciting eh? Emily calls and says to come quick because Rachel has fallen coming out of school and hurt her arm. So I do what any good mother would do...I finish the email I’m writing, tell our receptionist I’ll be back later, and hurry home. And sure enough she has a deep, ugly gash on her elbow and it’s still bleeding so I try not to swoon as I evaluate the damage. Is it awful that the first thing I say to her is, "Boy I wish I’d had my camera when you fell"? I WAS kidding but I’m not sure she saw the humor in it.
So anyway, I determine the injury does not warrant a doctor visit (whew!), then rummage through our bathroom drawers for first aid items. That’s when I find four, yes FOUR, Animal Kingdom band-aids, which I promptly wave in those kids’ faces because they’re always telling me we have no band-aids, and I like to prove them wrong even in the midst of emergency situations. But unfortunately, these band-aids are for paper cuts or suchlike, and not for deep oozing wounds. So I open up some gauze packs (which look like they’ve seen better days, but still are clearly marked STERILE) and find an Ace bandage and patch that thing up nicely. Of course, after wrapping the bandage around her arm about 17 times, she wonders aloud if we can cut the bandage to fit...and I am so proud of her at that moment because I know that CNA training of hers has come in handy. So, another crisis neatly resolved.
And speaking of being a proud mom, I also had cause to feel that way this morning when Emily left early to serve detention. She assured me that this was no big deal, because she didn’t lie, cheat or steal. She just forgot her name badge three times AND she turned herself in...instead of trying to hide it like all the truly bad kids. I mean she made it sound like serving this detention was more of a BADGE OF HONOR, and all the honest kids would be there, and so I couldn’t help but be proud of her "accomplishment".
I took both girls to Wichita this past weekend to see my niece Meagan, who is home from Africa for a few weeks. Meagan is a master game-player, but I think I’ve found something I can challenge her on. And it’s Big Boggle. Yes, I sort of dominated there. I mean, one time I found the word UNFORGIVEN. You know I don’t like to brag, but do you know how many points that’s worth??
But anyway, since we were in Wichita, we also decided to do some dreaded prom dress shopping on Saturday afternoon. If you’ve ever shopped for prom dresses, you are well aware that the process can be quite grueling. And I have TWO daughters going to prom, so it’s double the dress-trying-on, double-the-pain. Okay, I know I sound awful. And we did have some fun in the process (even though I couldn’t get either of them to try on that scalloped potato dress). But seriously, a good dress is so hard to find...especially when you’re as cheap as I am. So I’m happy to report that we eventually settled on a frothy pink/orange concoction for Emily, and a stylish black number for Rachel.
As for David, he is still slowly recovering from his surgery and weeks of inactivity. In fact, he can barely summon the energy to go to dances and friends’ houses, but he manages somehow. He also managed to captain his quiz bowl team to the quarterfinals in the first meet of the season. I was quite proud that he knew not only the NAME of the company in "The Office" but also the city in which the sitcom is situated. And it only annoyed me slightly that he didn’t have a clue that the Sistine Chapel was attached to St. Peter’s in Rome and that Leonardo Da Vinci was an Italian Renaissance artist who drew detailed sketches of the human anatomy, even though I took him to Italy and showed him these things IN PERSON last May.
And speaking of slow recoveries, Dave continues to make one too after his "ear attack" (two letters away from a heart attack, I always say). I can’t remember if I told you about that or not. It’s a REAL condition diagnosed by his ENT doctor whom some people affectionately refer to as Dr. Quackenstein, because of his sometimes unorthodox treatments, which in Dave’s case included oxygen and not too many people had heard of that for ringing in the ear. But after two $2,000 office visits to this ENT, Dave is actually better. So that’s why we aren’t complaining to some healing arts board somewhere.
Not much to tell about me...except that I’m sick of static electricity and hate my new coat, but don’t tell Dave because he was so sweet to pick it out for me.
I did have a dilly of a lunch today...leftover honey-seared chicken from Pei Wei. And yesterday I had leftover pizza from Il Vicino. Yum with a capital Y. It was like one of those back-to-back championship things...on a little bit smaller scale.
So let’s start with the latest crisis which occurred over lunch JUST TODAY! Kind of exciting eh? Emily calls and says to come quick because Rachel has fallen coming out of school and hurt her arm. So I do what any good mother would do...I finish the email I’m writing, tell our receptionist I’ll be back later, and hurry home. And sure enough she has a deep, ugly gash on her elbow and it’s still bleeding so I try not to swoon as I evaluate the damage. Is it awful that the first thing I say to her is, "Boy I wish I’d had my camera when you fell"? I WAS kidding but I’m not sure she saw the humor in it.
So anyway, I determine the injury does not warrant a doctor visit (whew!), then rummage through our bathroom drawers for first aid items. That’s when I find four, yes FOUR, Animal Kingdom band-aids, which I promptly wave in those kids’ faces because they’re always telling me we have no band-aids, and I like to prove them wrong even in the midst of emergency situations. But unfortunately, these band-aids are for paper cuts or suchlike, and not for deep oozing wounds. So I open up some gauze packs (which look like they’ve seen better days, but still are clearly marked STERILE) and find an Ace bandage and patch that thing up nicely. Of course, after wrapping the bandage around her arm about 17 times, she wonders aloud if we can cut the bandage to fit...and I am so proud of her at that moment because I know that CNA training of hers has come in handy. So, another crisis neatly resolved.
And speaking of being a proud mom, I also had cause to feel that way this morning when Emily left early to serve detention. She assured me that this was no big deal, because she didn’t lie, cheat or steal. She just forgot her name badge three times AND she turned herself in...instead of trying to hide it like all the truly bad kids. I mean she made it sound like serving this detention was more of a BADGE OF HONOR, and all the honest kids would be there, and so I couldn’t help but be proud of her "accomplishment".
I took both girls to Wichita this past weekend to see my niece Meagan, who is home from Africa for a few weeks. Meagan is a master game-player, but I think I’ve found something I can challenge her on. And it’s Big Boggle. Yes, I sort of dominated there. I mean, one time I found the word UNFORGIVEN. You know I don’t like to brag, but do you know how many points that’s worth??
But anyway, since we were in Wichita, we also decided to do some dreaded prom dress shopping on Saturday afternoon. If you’ve ever shopped for prom dresses, you are well aware that the process can be quite grueling. And I have TWO daughters going to prom, so it’s double the dress-trying-on, double-the-pain. Okay, I know I sound awful. And we did have some fun in the process (even though I couldn’t get either of them to try on that scalloped potato dress). But seriously, a good dress is so hard to find...especially when you’re as cheap as I am. So I’m happy to report that we eventually settled on a frothy pink/orange concoction for Emily, and a stylish black number for Rachel.
As for David, he is still slowly recovering from his surgery and weeks of inactivity. In fact, he can barely summon the energy to go to dances and friends’ houses, but he manages somehow. He also managed to captain his quiz bowl team to the quarterfinals in the first meet of the season. I was quite proud that he knew not only the NAME of the company in "The Office" but also the city in which the sitcom is situated. And it only annoyed me slightly that he didn’t have a clue that the Sistine Chapel was attached to St. Peter’s in Rome and that Leonardo Da Vinci was an Italian Renaissance artist who drew detailed sketches of the human anatomy, even though I took him to Italy and showed him these things IN PERSON last May.
And speaking of slow recoveries, Dave continues to make one too after his "ear attack" (two letters away from a heart attack, I always say). I can’t remember if I told you about that or not. It’s a REAL condition diagnosed by his ENT doctor whom some people affectionately refer to as Dr. Quackenstein, because of his sometimes unorthodox treatments, which in Dave’s case included oxygen and not too many people had heard of that for ringing in the ear. But after two $2,000 office visits to this ENT, Dave is actually better. So that’s why we aren’t complaining to some healing arts board somewhere.
Not much to tell about me...except that I’m sick of static electricity and hate my new coat, but don’t tell Dave because he was so sweet to pick it out for me.
I did have a dilly of a lunch today...leftover honey-seared chicken from Pei Wei. And yesterday I had leftover pizza from Il Vicino. Yum with a capital Y. It was like one of those back-to-back championship things...on a little bit smaller scale.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Um, Meckel's Diverticulum
It’s that time again...yes...time for a poem! I call my new ditty...
ODE TO A MECKEL’S DIVERTICULUM
Early one morning, about half past four,
we were suddenly awakened by a knock at our door.
‘Twas the youngest of our children, little David, he’s called.
He was clearly in distress; we couldn’t help but be appalled.
"I’m sick!" he cried.
"We can tell!" we replied.
And we rushed him to the doctor,
less than 36 hours later.
"Tests! We must run tests!" exclaimed the medical personnel.
But after sticking him with needles, they said, "What he has, we cannot tell."
So they sent him to a surgeon, who said he’d take a look,
but after examination he said, "This boy’s just not text book!"
"Oh no!" we exclaimed.
"It’s okay!" the surgeon explained,
"We’ll still hope it’s an easy fix,
just a simple but pesky appendix."
But as the surgeon wielded his laproscope,
of a simple fix, he gave up hope.
For the appendix was healthy and fine you see,
but the small intestine was constricted, not free.
It was then that he made the fateful decision,
to take his scalpel and make an long incision.
And we’re glad he did, for he found a surprise,
a sight fairly rare, even to an experienced surgeon’s eyes.
He turned to his nurse and said, "I think we have, um,"
"One of those rare Meckel’s Diverticulum."
Then he snipped and he stitched and he repaired the boy,
And after a week, we all went home with joy.
A moral to this story is bound to be sought,
so of course I’ve contrived one, I do that a lot.
If ever you get a pain in your side, and are in a miserable stew,
Just find a doctor, with a sharp scalpel, chances are he’ll know what to do.
My news will have to wait. I'm going to a ballgame and I'm late.
But for lunch I had...cheerios, two pieces of mushroom pizza, and half a grapefruit.
ODE TO A MECKEL’S DIVERTICULUM
Early one morning, about half past four,
we were suddenly awakened by a knock at our door.
‘Twas the youngest of our children, little David, he’s called.
He was clearly in distress; we couldn’t help but be appalled.
"I’m sick!" he cried.
"We can tell!" we replied.
And we rushed him to the doctor,
less than 36 hours later.
"Tests! We must run tests!" exclaimed the medical personnel.
But after sticking him with needles, they said, "What he has, we cannot tell."
So they sent him to a surgeon, who said he’d take a look,
but after examination he said, "This boy’s just not text book!"
"Oh no!" we exclaimed.
"It’s okay!" the surgeon explained,
"We’ll still hope it’s an easy fix,
just a simple but pesky appendix."
But as the surgeon wielded his laproscope,
of a simple fix, he gave up hope.
For the appendix was healthy and fine you see,
but the small intestine was constricted, not free.
It was then that he made the fateful decision,
to take his scalpel and make an long incision.
And we’re glad he did, for he found a surprise,
a sight fairly rare, even to an experienced surgeon’s eyes.
He turned to his nurse and said, "I think we have, um,"
"One of those rare Meckel’s Diverticulum."
Then he snipped and he stitched and he repaired the boy,
And after a week, we all went home with joy.
A moral to this story is bound to be sought,
so of course I’ve contrived one, I do that a lot.
If ever you get a pain in your side, and are in a miserable stew,
Just find a doctor, with a sharp scalpel, chances are he’ll know what to do.
My news will have to wait. I'm going to a ballgame and I'm late.
But for lunch I had...cheerios, two pieces of mushroom pizza, and half a grapefruit.
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