This was prompted by Claudia posting the same thing today.
1. I took my mom to the bank, and heard Knights in White Satin. Not only can I remember when this song came out, I can remember when no self-respecting bank would play anything NEAR its style/genre.
2. I took a short nap the other day, and happened to look in the mirror right after I got up. The marks on my face weren't pillow creases, they were WRINKLES.
3. While getting up at 6 is still hard, staying up til 6 is impossible.
4. Mom's chin. Nuff said.
5. This is the first year i haven't gotten carded for buying beer at christmas time (i wear a santa hat that covers my grey).
6. Justin Timberlake? I have kids older than him. Sean Connery? now THERE'S a man!
7. I broke my finger when I was 14, and from then on, I had a weather finger (and yes, it's THAT finger. i like giving crazy aunt marge (the fill-in for mother nature) the finger). It would ache within 24 hours of an approaching storm/major weather change. Now? It never stops hurting, it just hurts MORE when those weather changes happen.
8. They're not hot flashes, they're power surges.
9. I can carry pencils around without using my hands.
10. More tolerance for teens. Yes, you're reading that right, i said MORE. was terribly impatient with the girls' and their friends. The boys? not so much.
And, just as an aside? I just turned 43 a couple of weeks back. At this age, my mother had a 5 year old, a 3 year old, and a 2 month old baby. How the HELL did she do it? And thinking of trying to deal with teens (and me and my baby brother were both incredibly strong-willed) from the age of 51 to 61? Unthinkable. she's 81 now, and i can only hope i'm half as tough as she is/was.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
coming home
I've been noodling around on Youtube, as I'm wont to do when I stay up way too late, and ran across a whole slew of military tribute videos/slide shows.
One that hit home was Ozzie Osbourne, and Coming Home.
My baby brother was in the first Iraqi war, Desert Storm. He left in September, 1990, after having only been in the Army for 6 months (total, including basic & AIT). He left a 19 year old boy. It changed him. He came home older, wiser, and sadder.
I'm not the praying type (even when I "had" religion, i didn't do it much), but in the months that he was gone, until he came back to the States in mid-April, I prayed every night that he'd come home. I put up yellow ribbons wherever I was (i ended up moving 3 times in that time period. it REALLY sucked). all i asked was "please let him come home."
He doesn't talk much about his time there (and I've found that a lot of them won't). He came back with some bad habits (he started smoking there, if only to relieve the boredom), and some new insights, and some health issues (don't let them kid you, Gulf Syndrome is real. he has small bits of neuropathy, foot fungus issues (still! and it's been 19 years!), and generally weird stuff).
He told me, when he got back to Ft. Bragg, and got in his car to drive home, on his first leave, that the last song that played as he drove down highway 75 to my parents' home was Ozzie and Coming Home. I think, at that point, he really was home, and it really was over. (apparently bloggers embedding feature is broke, so click the link)
Bob played his cards right. He stayed in the military for just over 8 years. Long enough to gain a small disability check (his knees will never be right), and long enough to get out of that inactive duty that has dragged so many people back into the military, who thought they'd gotten shut of it (i'm thinking of the woman who reported for duty with her kids with her, since there was no one else to take care of them), and not so long that he was obliged due to retirement (they nabbed my SIL on that one, but because she's developed some major health issues since she'd left, they couldn't send her overseas, so they put her on immigration control as a federal marshall (which she'd done before. the woman has had more military and military-type jobs than icare to thinkabout! (imagine a drill instructor with the last name of Payne. oy!)))
But that time will never leave him. He bears the scars inside and out. But he came home, which is so much more than some have done. And I'm grateful.
One that hit home was Ozzie Osbourne, and Coming Home.
My baby brother was in the first Iraqi war, Desert Storm. He left in September, 1990, after having only been in the Army for 6 months (total, including basic & AIT). He left a 19 year old boy. It changed him. He came home older, wiser, and sadder.
I'm not the praying type (even when I "had" religion, i didn't do it much), but in the months that he was gone, until he came back to the States in mid-April, I prayed every night that he'd come home. I put up yellow ribbons wherever I was (i ended up moving 3 times in that time period. it REALLY sucked). all i asked was "please let him come home."
He doesn't talk much about his time there (and I've found that a lot of them won't). He came back with some bad habits (he started smoking there, if only to relieve the boredom), and some new insights, and some health issues (don't let them kid you, Gulf Syndrome is real. he has small bits of neuropathy, foot fungus issues (still! and it's been 19 years!), and generally weird stuff).
He told me, when he got back to Ft. Bragg, and got in his car to drive home, on his first leave, that the last song that played as he drove down highway 75 to my parents' home was Ozzie and Coming Home. I think, at that point, he really was home, and it really was over. (apparently bloggers embedding feature is broke, so click the link)
Bob played his cards right. He stayed in the military for just over 8 years. Long enough to gain a small disability check (his knees will never be right), and long enough to get out of that inactive duty that has dragged so many people back into the military, who thought they'd gotten shut of it (i'm thinking of the woman who reported for duty with her kids with her, since there was no one else to take care of them), and not so long that he was obliged due to retirement (they nabbed my SIL on that one, but because she's developed some major health issues since she'd left, they couldn't send her overseas, so they put her on immigration control as a federal marshall (which she'd done before. the woman has had more military and military-type jobs than icare to thinkabout! (imagine a drill instructor with the last name of Payne. oy!)))
But that time will never leave him. He bears the scars inside and out. But he came home, which is so much more than some have done. And I'm grateful.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
amazing
so, apparently, someone is reading my blog from YEARS ago. apparently, even now, this person can't let go. won't go into all of it, but get a life, please?
Sunday, February 22, 2009
it's done
i keep coming back to my dad. you all know how much i miss him, every day, even though it's been almost 8 years since he died.
it was brought back to me again, tonight.
i'm watching the oscars, and they did they're usual "in memoriam" thing, and the last name to come up was Paul Newman. Paul Newman was my dad's age, almost exactly. I always connected the two. Somehow, as long as he was out there, kicking it, it was ok. But Paul Newman's gone, now. And, so, too, is my dad.
it was brought back to me again, tonight.
i'm watching the oscars, and they did they're usual "in memoriam" thing, and the last name to come up was Paul Newman. Paul Newman was my dad's age, almost exactly. I always connected the two. Somehow, as long as he was out there, kicking it, it was ok. But Paul Newman's gone, now. And, so, too, is my dad.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
going batty
the phone rang about 45 minutes ago. considering it was almost 9, i knew it had to be steph.
here's a little back story on steph. she can't STAND creepy-crawlie things. they had a mouse problem for a while, and one got caught in a trap by just its tail and one leg. her solution? put a paper box top with an iron on top to keep it contained until her sister got home to deal with it. not quite sure how she's my child, since creepy crawlies don't bother me in the slightest, except for the bite factor (i don't handle snakes because my hands are tender enough without throwing bites into it).
so, i answer the phone, and she's SQUEALING. not in a good way. "THERE'S A BAT IN MY BEDROOM!" "where are you?" "UNDER THE COVERS!" "well, dummy, get out!"
she hadn't been feeling good, and had been in bed since she'd gotten home from work. she was calling me from under the covers. she had been lightly dozing when she heard what she thought was a mouse, so she thumped on the floor to scare it away. instead she heard wings!
i finally talked her into getting out of the room, amidst much squealing, giggling, and half-crying (yes, she's that scared). i called the humane society/animal control, and the lady told me that steph was going to have to keep a visual on the bat until they got there. i told her that wasn't going to happen, because she'd practically had a panic attack while calling me. finally, i told the lady i'd go over and keep an eye on the bat until they got there. she told me that since this was considered an emergency, we would be next. however, the officers were already out on a call.
i called steph up and told her to tell me how much she loved me, because i was going to come over and keep an eye on the durned thing. i went over there, and discovered she'd turned the light off. "how am i supposed to watch the bat if the light's off?!?" i turned the light on, and she screamed "don't let it out!" "would you s hut up! that's why it's flying around, you've got it all worked up!"
i got her to shut up, and it actually decided to land on the window sill at the top, and there it stayed until the officers showed up. i decided i could watch it by opening the door every few seconds, and that worked. i honestly think the poor little thing had gotten worn out, and since the nuttiness had died down, it needed a nap, lol.
So, the officers show up. They're both GIRLS, and both around steph's age. she was thoroughly disgusted, lol. I opened the door enough for them to go in and get the poor little guy, and steph fled to the kitchen.
We had to sign paperwork waiving rabies testing, but steph is positive it never touched her, so the officers didn't seem concerned.
The whole thing took about 45 minutes, from her call to the little guy being deposited in the container (which was a commercial-sized sour cream container with holes cut in the top, and what looked to be a paper towel sticking through the lid).
i'm still just struck over how much of a puss steph was over the whole thing, lol.
here's a little back story on steph. she can't STAND creepy-crawlie things. they had a mouse problem for a while, and one got caught in a trap by just its tail and one leg. her solution? put a paper box top with an iron on top to keep it contained until her sister got home to deal with it. not quite sure how she's my child, since creepy crawlies don't bother me in the slightest, except for the bite factor (i don't handle snakes because my hands are tender enough without throwing bites into it).
so, i answer the phone, and she's SQUEALING. not in a good way. "THERE'S A BAT IN MY BEDROOM!" "where are you?" "UNDER THE COVERS!" "well, dummy, get out!"
she hadn't been feeling good, and had been in bed since she'd gotten home from work. she was calling me from under the covers. she had been lightly dozing when she heard what she thought was a mouse, so she thumped on the floor to scare it away. instead she heard wings!
i finally talked her into getting out of the room, amidst much squealing, giggling, and half-crying (yes, she's that scared). i called the humane society/animal control, and the lady told me that steph was going to have to keep a visual on the bat until they got there. i told her that wasn't going to happen, because she'd practically had a panic attack while calling me. finally, i told the lady i'd go over and keep an eye on the bat until they got there. she told me that since this was considered an emergency, we would be next. however, the officers were already out on a call.
i called steph up and told her to tell me how much she loved me, because i was going to come over and keep an eye on the durned thing. i went over there, and discovered she'd turned the light off. "how am i supposed to watch the bat if the light's off?!?" i turned the light on, and she screamed "don't let it out!" "would you s hut up! that's why it's flying around, you've got it all worked up!"
i got her to shut up, and it actually decided to land on the window sill at the top, and there it stayed until the officers showed up. i decided i could watch it by opening the door every few seconds, and that worked. i honestly think the poor little thing had gotten worn out, and since the nuttiness had died down, it needed a nap, lol.
So, the officers show up. They're both GIRLS, and both around steph's age. she was thoroughly disgusted, lol. I opened the door enough for them to go in and get the poor little guy, and steph fled to the kitchen.
We had to sign paperwork waiving rabies testing, but steph is positive it never touched her, so the officers didn't seem concerned.
The whole thing took about 45 minutes, from her call to the little guy being deposited in the container (which was a commercial-sized sour cream container with holes cut in the top, and what looked to be a paper towel sticking through the lid).
i'm still just struck over how much of a puss steph was over the whole thing, lol.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
amazing
i was unable to watch the inauguration today. i had to take my mother to the dermatologist to get a small thing on her forehead removed. (no biggie, i think it took longer for them to numb her forehead than it took to remove it). i tried to find a tv. walmart had theirs focused on their own internal network (big surprise there), and burger king just down the way didn't have one (some do, some don't).
so i sat in the car, and i listened. and i cried. not tears of sorrow. i don't know if i would call them tears of joy. tears of hope. such overwhelming emotion. bigger than me. bigger than all of us as individuals.
today is a milestone. not just for democrats. not just for african-americans. for all americans. "all men are created equal." indeed.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
outrage
i know, i seem to be pissed alot lately, but this one is justified.
sometimes political action groups have a place. however, the ones who 1) target seniors and 2) fear-monger are #1 on my shit-0-meter.
here's the story. my dad was a big one for small donations to these political action groups. when he died, my mom continued to receive requests. she donated in the small quantities that my dad had. did this for years. i know this. it's her money, and it wasn't hurting her to do so.
until recently. i got a call from the bank today, saying that her check to the IRS (she pays quarterly) was going to bounce because she only had $19 in her checking account, and there wasn't enough in her savings to cover it.
WHAT THE HELL??????
my mom is comfortable. she can buy what she wants when she needs it. she's loaned money to me and my kids and my brother, and not been bothered by the amount.
so i told them we'd be in as soon as i could pick her up. i called her, told her to get out her duplicate checkbooks (thank god for those, it helped me figure out what was going on), and i'd be right over.
i looked at them as she was finishing putting her coat on, and realized that the "small" donations she'd made in the last month were more than my car payments! i'm not going to give figures, but it made me very, very angry. i asked her what she was thinking, and she couldn't tell me. she got angry with me, until i told her that this was causing problems with her bank, and that this point, i wasn't even sure if she had enough $$ to go grocery shopping! that made her pause.
we went to the bank, and after going through all kinds of paperwork, we were able to place a series of stop payments, to at least stop the hemmorage of $$ from her account. we were able to cover the IRS check, and leave her with $$ to live on until her next checks came. we did eventually end up going to the grocerystore.
when we got back, she grabbed some letters that she had set out for the mailman totake (he hadn't been yet) and brought them back in with her. she said to tear them up and throw them away. i looked at them first. the "small" donations they used to ask for were,apparently, a thing of the past. the smallest "minimum" donation they were asking for was $100! this was with 3 different committees! kind of explained a few things.
one was asking for money because sure as shooting, Obama and Ted Kennedy were not going to protect her social security and medicare rights, and try to socialize health care, etc, etc, etc. (my mom's a republican, can you tell?) i'm not sure my mom would be able to make it if it weren't for medicare (she has numerous health issues that have her at the doctor's on a regular basis).
FEAR MONGERING! run, be scared, give us money so we can scare the shit out of you! that's what i read.
Traditional Values Committee
National Committee for the Preservation of Senior Rights
American Seniors Rights Committee
that was the 3 i saw today. these people were terrifying my mother, and as tiny and old as she is (she's 4'8" and will be 81 on the 30th), the only thing she thought she could do is give them $$.
i think i've found a new cause.
my mom has promised not tosend $$ to these people any more (and i have things in place to monitor this more closely than before).
but she's going to still get the mail for them. i've asked her to save them for me, and i'm going to do some investigating. finding out who is legit, and who isn't. and i'm going to act. contact my congressmen. my governor. my attorney general. i'm going to stop these fuckers. stop 'em hard.
i'm done.
sometimes political action groups have a place. however, the ones who 1) target seniors and 2) fear-monger are #1 on my shit-0-meter.
here's the story. my dad was a big one for small donations to these political action groups. when he died, my mom continued to receive requests. she donated in the small quantities that my dad had. did this for years. i know this. it's her money, and it wasn't hurting her to do so.
until recently. i got a call from the bank today, saying that her check to the IRS (she pays quarterly) was going to bounce because she only had $19 in her checking account, and there wasn't enough in her savings to cover it.
WHAT THE HELL??????
my mom is comfortable. she can buy what she wants when she needs it. she's loaned money to me and my kids and my brother, and not been bothered by the amount.
so i told them we'd be in as soon as i could pick her up. i called her, told her to get out her duplicate checkbooks (thank god for those, it helped me figure out what was going on), and i'd be right over.
i looked at them as she was finishing putting her coat on, and realized that the "small" donations she'd made in the last month were more than my car payments! i'm not going to give figures, but it made me very, very angry. i asked her what she was thinking, and she couldn't tell me. she got angry with me, until i told her that this was causing problems with her bank, and that this point, i wasn't even sure if she had enough $$ to go grocery shopping! that made her pause.
we went to the bank, and after going through all kinds of paperwork, we were able to place a series of stop payments, to at least stop the hemmorage of $$ from her account. we were able to cover the IRS check, and leave her with $$ to live on until her next checks came. we did eventually end up going to the grocerystore.
when we got back, she grabbed some letters that she had set out for the mailman totake (he hadn't been yet) and brought them back in with her. she said to tear them up and throw them away. i looked at them first. the "small" donations they used to ask for were,apparently, a thing of the past. the smallest "minimum" donation they were asking for was $100! this was with 3 different committees! kind of explained a few things.
one was asking for money because sure as shooting, Obama and Ted Kennedy were not going to protect her social security and medicare rights, and try to socialize health care, etc, etc, etc. (my mom's a republican, can you tell?) i'm not sure my mom would be able to make it if it weren't for medicare (she has numerous health issues that have her at the doctor's on a regular basis).
FEAR MONGERING! run, be scared, give us money so we can scare the shit out of you! that's what i read.
Traditional Values Committee
National Committee for the Preservation of Senior Rights
American Seniors Rights Committee
that was the 3 i saw today. these people were terrifying my mother, and as tiny and old as she is (she's 4'8" and will be 81 on the 30th), the only thing she thought she could do is give them $$.
i think i've found a new cause.
my mom has promised not tosend $$ to these people any more (and i have things in place to monitor this more closely than before).
but she's going to still get the mail for them. i've asked her to save them for me, and i'm going to do some investigating. finding out who is legit, and who isn't. and i'm going to act. contact my congressmen. my governor. my attorney general. i'm going to stop these fuckers. stop 'em hard.
i'm done.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
i can't believe this
Ok, gang, we all know that charity crafting is near and dear to my heart. However, there's a movement going on that i just became aware of, that may put it in jeopardy for me.
This legislation will prohibit the sale of children's products without costly, intensive testing. This just might be the the straw that breaks the camel's back for so many people. All those WAHMs who do small things to help supplement their income making simple things for children from safe products who can't afford this kind of testing.
i know i'm being kind of incoherent, but this pisses me off so much i can't stand it!
why not have the suppliers of the materials (who usually do this in massive quantities) sustain the costs of the testing, rather than making each individual do it, and drive them out of business. Admittedly, it will drive up the cost of the materials, and maybe cause these companies to cut back on some of their inventories, but i'm sure most of the people buying for their own businesses could increase their prices as well, and still be able to be IN business. one $500 test for a material that the company sells 10,000 pieces for breaks down to FIVE CENTS per item.
FIVE CENTS, people. where as Judy's Baby Binkies (hypothetical here, folks) may only make $500 a month on her blankets.
i know, this act is in response to the toy recalls of the last few years, but those were from toys manufactured OUTSIDE THIS COUNTRY. (lookin' at you, China!). What this legislation will do is drive the toy-makers (and other kids' items crafters) who people turned to when all those toys were recalled out of business. Which turns us BACK to those SOB's who weren't using safe practices with our children in the first place!
Anyway, go. check the link out. follow some of the suggestions made. I'm definitely going to write to my congressmen.
This legislation will prohibit the sale of children's products without costly, intensive testing. This just might be the the straw that breaks the camel's back for so many people. All those WAHMs who do small things to help supplement their income making simple things for children from safe products who can't afford this kind of testing.
i know i'm being kind of incoherent, but this pisses me off so much i can't stand it!
why not have the suppliers of the materials (who usually do this in massive quantities) sustain the costs of the testing, rather than making each individual do it, and drive them out of business. Admittedly, it will drive up the cost of the materials, and maybe cause these companies to cut back on some of their inventories, but i'm sure most of the people buying for their own businesses could increase their prices as well, and still be able to be IN business. one $500 test for a material that the company sells 10,000 pieces for breaks down to FIVE CENTS per item.
FIVE CENTS, people. where as Judy's Baby Binkies (hypothetical here, folks) may only make $500 a month on her blankets.
i know, this act is in response to the toy recalls of the last few years, but those were from toys manufactured OUTSIDE THIS COUNTRY. (lookin' at you, China!). What this legislation will do is drive the toy-makers (and other kids' items crafters) who people turned to when all those toys were recalled out of business. Which turns us BACK to those SOB's who weren't using safe practices with our children in the first place!
Anyway, go. check the link out. follow some of the suggestions made. I'm definitely going to write to my congressmen.
Monday, December 22, 2008
i miss him
My dad's been gone for 7 1/2 years.
While I don't usually miss him so much this time of year, I was watching Little People, Big World, and saw that their best friend passed on, and it was sudden, and quick, and unexpected. It made me think of my dad.
When I was a kid, this time of year was quiet. The harvest was in, everything that could be repaired probably had been by now, and the sows weren't going to farrow for at least another month and a half. This is when my dad would get fat and sassy (yeah, right, the man never broke 160. he was 5'6", and definitely not a fat man. during really busy times, i think he was lucky to be 140).
"HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!" i can remember hearing that on several christmas mornings. my dad had a big voice for such a small man. he could rattle the windows.
i remember he could never say "banana." it was always "balana." He was very sick as an infant, and spent most of the years we learn language not hearing anything. When he finally began to hear again, it was never quite right. the Nebraska School for the Deaf focussed on sign language, rather than speech. i credit my ability to understand most people to the fact that i grew up hearing "mangled" english.
i don't miss him much this time of year. he's not as close now. wait for spring. when i drive in the country, and see farmers planting at all hours of the day and night, i hear my dad's hollering for more seed corn. when i see the corn growing up and up and up, i hear my dad talk about when they were kids and how corn grew during WWII (he wasn't allowed to serve, for obvious reasons, although he tried). My favorite smell is corn pollinating in july. Seeing combines on the road makes me remember rides on the tractor, going from field to distant field (although my dad NEVER took his equipment on the highway. if it needed to go to town, he had it trucked. said it was too hard on the tires to drive on the highway (and those tires were $500 in the 70's!))
i miss my dad
While I don't usually miss him so much this time of year, I was watching Little People, Big World, and saw that their best friend passed on, and it was sudden, and quick, and unexpected. It made me think of my dad.
When I was a kid, this time of year was quiet. The harvest was in, everything that could be repaired probably had been by now, and the sows weren't going to farrow for at least another month and a half. This is when my dad would get fat and sassy (yeah, right, the man never broke 160. he was 5'6", and definitely not a fat man. during really busy times, i think he was lucky to be 140).
"HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS!" i can remember hearing that on several christmas mornings. my dad had a big voice for such a small man. he could rattle the windows.
i remember he could never say "banana." it was always "balana." He was very sick as an infant, and spent most of the years we learn language not hearing anything. When he finally began to hear again, it was never quite right. the Nebraska School for the Deaf focussed on sign language, rather than speech. i credit my ability to understand most people to the fact that i grew up hearing "mangled" english.
i don't miss him much this time of year. he's not as close now. wait for spring. when i drive in the country, and see farmers planting at all hours of the day and night, i hear my dad's hollering for more seed corn. when i see the corn growing up and up and up, i hear my dad talk about when they were kids and how corn grew during WWII (he wasn't allowed to serve, for obvious reasons, although he tried). My favorite smell is corn pollinating in july. Seeing combines on the road makes me remember rides on the tractor, going from field to distant field (although my dad NEVER took his equipment on the highway. if it needed to go to town, he had it trucked. said it was too hard on the tires to drive on the highway (and those tires were $500 in the 70's!))
i miss my dad
Friday, December 05, 2008
we remember
One year ago, today, the nation's worst mall shooting occured in a place i've been several times. maggie webb, angie schuster, janet jorgensen, dianne trent, gary joy, beverly flynn, gary scharf, and john mcdonald were lost that day. their families still grieve, as do we all.
never forget.
i was at miss violet's when the shooting happened. i was driving down to sean's school, when carin called me and told me "don't go to westroads. there's been a shooting." as we watched, and heard the stories, and the horror, and saw the tears and fears, we cried.
never forget
never forget.
i was at miss violet's when the shooting happened. i was driving down to sean's school, when carin called me and told me "don't go to westroads. there's been a shooting." as we watched, and heard the stories, and the horror, and saw the tears and fears, we cried.
never forget
Monday, December 01, 2008
Her name is Frances
A couple of button down shirts. Some paper towels. Toilet paper. A book of stamps. Simple things. But that's all I know. These are what she wants for Christmas.
I found a giving tree at walmart today, for seniors. I went through all of them, and thought, "which one shall i pick?" when i saw Frances, I knew. What kind of life is she living that her wish is for paper towels and toilet paper? I almost broke down right there in Walmart, and every time i looked at the tag i'd taken from the tree, i'd tear up again. in fact, i need a tissue right now.
I'm so grateful for the fact that my mother isn't in that position. But Frances is someone's mother, aunt, or sister. So, I bought what she asked for. I hope it makes her Christmas a little brighter.
I found a giving tree at walmart today, for seniors. I went through all of them, and thought, "which one shall i pick?" when i saw Frances, I knew. What kind of life is she living that her wish is for paper towels and toilet paper? I almost broke down right there in Walmart, and every time i looked at the tag i'd taken from the tree, i'd tear up again. in fact, i need a tissue right now.
I'm so grateful for the fact that my mother isn't in that position. But Frances is someone's mother, aunt, or sister. So, I bought what she asked for. I hope it makes her Christmas a little brighter.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
postcrossing
I'm having a bit of fun. I joined www.postcrossing.com, which is a free service. you register, and ask for addresses to send post cards to, and when they're received, your name gets put in, and then you get post cards back. i've gotten them from china, germany (twice), the netherlands, the phillipines, lithuania, south africa, the us (west virginia, ohio and utah), and the last from spain. i actually replied to her in a small amount of spanish, let's see how she responds, lol.
i'm enjoying this. i've got odd postcards from interesting areas. and i'm keeping them. much to mark's chagrin, lol. right now, i've gotten 12, so my collection fits in one drawer of the desk. i've been going to the local bookstore, and getting nebraska postcards from there. however, their collection is kind of limited (a lot of them from the mormon cemetary up the street (they ARE the winter quarters bookstore, lol). i need to go to the zoo, and get some cool ones there.
the best part? all it costs me is the cost of the postcard AND postage. it's 97 cents to mail international, and 27 to mail in the us. wheeeeee!
i'm enjoying this. i've got odd postcards from interesting areas. and i'm keeping them. much to mark's chagrin, lol. right now, i've gotten 12, so my collection fits in one drawer of the desk. i've been going to the local bookstore, and getting nebraska postcards from there. however, their collection is kind of limited (a lot of them from the mormon cemetary up the street (they ARE the winter quarters bookstore, lol). i need to go to the zoo, and get some cool ones there.
the best part? all it costs me is the cost of the postcard AND postage. it's 97 cents to mail international, and 27 to mail in the us. wheeeeee!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Remind me
I didn't craft at all yesterday. It was a bad day after I got home from Miss Violet's. The school called, and Sean got suspended again. This is his 5th suspension (and we still haven't finished the semester yet). I won't go into why, except he needs to learn to control his mouth.
It was a tense afternoon, and evening. Sean was absolutely livid when he got home, as was Mark. While dinner went well, there were specific tensions. Sean asked for ice cream, and I decided that he could have an ice cream sandwich, rather than the last of the drumsticks. That pissed him off, so he went upstairs rather than have any. Mark got bent out of shape, and went to bed.
Then Sean came down and proceeded to puke for an hour. He'd get up, puke, then lay on the floor in the bathroom. I won't go any further than that, for those of you who are a bit sensitive stomach-wise. He fell asleep on the bathroom floor, claiming he was going to stay in there for the night. I finally woke him up around 9, and he decided he felt a little better, and could go upstairs after all.
With a bunch of other stuff going on (in case y'all didn't know, I'm the Managing Editor for the Daily Chum, and i was working on some major stuff (watch that space after Thanksgiving. you'll love it!), and ended up not touching fiber or needles, and going to bed at 11:30.
Today, I picked up my crochet (AC4C are asking for strips to piece into blankets, as they're faster to join, for the Pine Ridge Reservation), and after 3 stitches, I could feel the peace and harmony flooding through me.
So, do me a favor. If you see me on Plurk howling about insanity, or if i bitch here about the nuttiness that can be and is being the mother of highly intelligent children (not to mention Sean's other issues), ask me if i've picked up any fiber. Doesn't matter what, be it spinning, knitting, or crocheting (not sewing, though, that causes me more stress). Remind me. I need it.
It was a tense afternoon, and evening. Sean was absolutely livid when he got home, as was Mark. While dinner went well, there were specific tensions. Sean asked for ice cream, and I decided that he could have an ice cream sandwich, rather than the last of the drumsticks. That pissed him off, so he went upstairs rather than have any. Mark got bent out of shape, and went to bed.
Then Sean came down and proceeded to puke for an hour. He'd get up, puke, then lay on the floor in the bathroom. I won't go any further than that, for those of you who are a bit sensitive stomach-wise. He fell asleep on the bathroom floor, claiming he was going to stay in there for the night. I finally woke him up around 9, and he decided he felt a little better, and could go upstairs after all.
With a bunch of other stuff going on (in case y'all didn't know, I'm the Managing Editor for the Daily Chum, and i was working on some major stuff (watch that space after Thanksgiving. you'll love it!), and ended up not touching fiber or needles, and going to bed at 11:30.
Today, I picked up my crochet (AC4C are asking for strips to piece into blankets, as they're faster to join, for the Pine Ridge Reservation), and after 3 stitches, I could feel the peace and harmony flooding through me.
So, do me a favor. If you see me on Plurk howling about insanity, or if i bitch here about the nuttiness that can be and is being the mother of highly intelligent children (not to mention Sean's other issues), ask me if i've picked up any fiber. Doesn't matter what, be it spinning, knitting, or crocheting (not sewing, though, that causes me more stress). Remind me. I need it.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
get the word out.
as many of you know, sean has asperger's. he also has ODD (oppositional defiant disorder), ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) and OCD tendencies (obsessive compulsive disorder). the OCD isn't full blown because he isn't completely compulsive about things, but it can manifest itself at any time (when he's nervous, he'll pick his lip or his fingers, or anything else to bleeding).
here's what i propose. the biggest problem sean is having at school at this point is a lack of understanding. students, staff, and even a few teachers (i won't go into which ones, but i have my ideas) think he can control all of his behaviors, and just needs a good kick in the pants. what they fail to realize is that the last word in all those alphabet soup diagnoses is DISORDER. not working right. i don't wanna say that sean is disordered, but what he is is different.
i propose that we get the word out. if more people knew what asperger's was, and how it works, there might be more understanding. sean is a brilliant young man. he blows everybody out of the water in his biology class. there is actual discussion of putting him in honors chemistry next year, not because his grade in biology supports it, but because of what he says in that class. i'm sure i've said this before, but he has a college level chemistry book that he asked for a few years back. HE UNDERSTANDS IT. he understood it when i bought it. he and mark will go through it, and try and figure out what would happen if you combined this element with this element. also, his IEP teacher thinks that if he's in an AP class, the kids there have a different level of maturity, and be more tolerant of how he is (which is what he's getting in his biology class. the teacher is fantastic, and i've been told there's a group of kids in there who help sean as much as they can (not with homework lol, but other ways) and missed him while he was out of school).
most of all, if more people accepted sean for what he is, different (and not really all THAT different), he might be more accepting of himself. i know there is a small part inside that says "what the hell am i doing." he's told me. he knows when he's done wrong, but just can't stop sometimes. i just wish the life lessons in socialization were a little more gentle (unlike the young man who punched sean after sean kicked him for getting in his face because "you're weird.")
i have a new motto in life.
Normal is the setting on a dishwasher, not a description of people.
here's what i propose. the biggest problem sean is having at school at this point is a lack of understanding. students, staff, and even a few teachers (i won't go into which ones, but i have my ideas) think he can control all of his behaviors, and just needs a good kick in the pants. what they fail to realize is that the last word in all those alphabet soup diagnoses is DISORDER. not working right. i don't wanna say that sean is disordered, but what he is is different.
i propose that we get the word out. if more people knew what asperger's was, and how it works, there might be more understanding. sean is a brilliant young man. he blows everybody out of the water in his biology class. there is actual discussion of putting him in honors chemistry next year, not because his grade in biology supports it, but because of what he says in that class. i'm sure i've said this before, but he has a college level chemistry book that he asked for a few years back. HE UNDERSTANDS IT. he understood it when i bought it. he and mark will go through it, and try and figure out what would happen if you combined this element with this element. also, his IEP teacher thinks that if he's in an AP class, the kids there have a different level of maturity, and be more tolerant of how he is (which is what he's getting in his biology class. the teacher is fantastic, and i've been told there's a group of kids in there who help sean as much as they can (not with homework lol, but other ways) and missed him while he was out of school).
most of all, if more people accepted sean for what he is, different (and not really all THAT different), he might be more accepting of himself. i know there is a small part inside that says "what the hell am i doing." he's told me. he knows when he's done wrong, but just can't stop sometimes. i just wish the life lessons in socialization were a little more gentle (unlike the young man who punched sean after sean kicked him for getting in his face because "you're weird.")
i have a new motto in life.
Normal is the setting on a dishwasher, not a description of people.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
i have a dream
a caveat, first: i think it's great that barack obama won. i honestly think it will be a revolutionary change.
however, here we go.
I have a dream. I have a dream that some day it won't matter if you're black, white, red, or yellow, male or female, tall, small, skinny or fat. It won't matter. I have a dream that a person will be judged on their merits and skills, on who they are, and not what they are.
That is my dream
however, here we go.
I have a dream. I have a dream that some day it won't matter if you're black, white, red, or yellow, male or female, tall, small, skinny or fat. It won't matter. I have a dream that a person will be judged on their merits and skills, on who they are, and not what they are.
That is my dream
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
A Bone to Pick
Christmas is shot this year. Guaranteed. Wanna know why? I've got doctor bills to pay. Why, yes, I do have insurance. What of it?
When I checked into putting Sean into partial care 2 weeks ago, they told me that it would cover 50% up to $130 a day. That makes me responsible for $65. God knows what they've contracted it at, but that's what they cover. Sean was in partial care full time for 4 days. I have to call and find out how much they cover for transition days. There were 3 of those. Then there's the hospitalization. Dunno about that one either.
Here's the stinky bit. I CAN'T CHECK ON THE WEB. even though there's a website. i don't have authorization. it's mark's insurance. but i'm supposed to! We got a letter at the beginning of September that they were issuing new insurance cards as of october 1 (haven't seen mine yet, and i've been diligently checking the mail), and that spouses would be given log-ins so that they could check things like providers, and balances (it's a $750 deductible/person, with $1500/family, in network. don't even wanna discuss out-of-network. i think it's $1500/person, and $3000/family, but don't quote me), and coverage. haven't gotten it yet. it's FUCKING OCTOBER 22, PEOPLE!
Because of Sean's UTI problems earlier in the year, he met his deductible months ago. But as of right now, I'm still responsible for at LEAST $260 *for M-Th of last week, not to mention the rest. I'm still paying off the urologist from march for sean, and mark's facial surgery from EIGHTEEN MONTHS AGO. And now i'm going to have new bills for sean at this same damned hospital. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, FOLKS. When mark had the s urgery, i had received SIX SEPARATE BILLS. Radiology. Anesthesiology. Surgeon. Lab work. Hospital. and (this one pisses me off huger than big) RADIOLOGY CONSULTANTS. because his dad had skin cancer, they wanted to x-ray his lungs (had to do 2, cuz his lungs are so long, lol). so, they had a radiologist to take the picture, and a CONSULTANT to look at it! WTF. still paying the hospital and the surgeon (at least the surgeon doesn't send snotty letters EVERY MONTH even though i'm paying monthly).
and i won't even get into therapy, which will happen with sean eventually. the sad part? they'll only cover 26 sessions a year. and you have to reapply every so often during the year to v erify that you still need the services. he'll be ok for the rest of this year (there's only a tad over 2 months left), but next year could get dicey.
such is the state of mental health care. and it pisses me off.
*and this is beyond the $250 mark pays a month for the insurance. i can remember not so long ago when i paid $60 every 2 weeks to cover me AND all 4 of my kids. *stomps off in disgust*
When I checked into putting Sean into partial care 2 weeks ago, they told me that it would cover 50% up to $130 a day. That makes me responsible for $65. God knows what they've contracted it at, but that's what they cover. Sean was in partial care full time for 4 days. I have to call and find out how much they cover for transition days. There were 3 of those. Then there's the hospitalization. Dunno about that one either.
Here's the stinky bit. I CAN'T CHECK ON THE WEB. even though there's a website. i don't have authorization. it's mark's insurance. but i'm supposed to! We got a letter at the beginning of September that they were issuing new insurance cards as of october 1 (haven't seen mine yet, and i've been diligently checking the mail), and that spouses would be given log-ins so that they could check things like providers, and balances (it's a $750 deductible/person, with $1500/family, in network. don't even wanna discuss out-of-network. i think it's $1500/person, and $3000/family, but don't quote me), and coverage. haven't gotten it yet. it's FUCKING OCTOBER 22, PEOPLE!
Because of Sean's UTI problems earlier in the year, he met his deductible months ago. But as of right now, I'm still responsible for at LEAST $260 *for M-Th of last week, not to mention the rest. I'm still paying off the urologist from march for sean, and mark's facial surgery from EIGHTEEN MONTHS AGO. And now i'm going to have new bills for sean at this same damned hospital. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, FOLKS. When mark had the s urgery, i had received SIX SEPARATE BILLS. Radiology. Anesthesiology. Surgeon. Lab work. Hospital. and (this one pisses me off huger than big) RADIOLOGY CONSULTANTS. because his dad had skin cancer, they wanted to x-ray his lungs (had to do 2, cuz his lungs are so long, lol). so, they had a radiologist to take the picture, and a CONSULTANT to look at it! WTF. still paying the hospital and the surgeon (at least the surgeon doesn't send snotty letters EVERY MONTH even though i'm paying monthly).
and i won't even get into therapy, which will happen with sean eventually. the sad part? they'll only cover 26 sessions a year. and you have to reapply every so often during the year to v erify that you still need the services. he'll be ok for the rest of this year (there's only a tad over 2 months left), but next year could get dicey.
such is the state of mental health care. and it pisses me off.
*and this is beyond the $250 mark pays a month for the insurance. i can remember not so long ago when i paid $60 every 2 weeks to cover me AND all 4 of my kids. *stomps off in disgust*
it happened again.
I've hoped and prayed it wouldn't happen again. I've fought, and struggled, and done everything in my power to prevent it. However, it wasn't up to me, cuz I'm just the mom.
Sean's in the hospital again. We've been fighting this battle since school started. He's not adapting well to high school. He's been suspended 3 times, and the quarter ended today. He's been in fights, been picked on, and been outrageous in a not-so-good way.
We had him in partial hospitalization all last week (it's like a day-long therapy session), and were about to transition back to school full time, when he pulled his stunt. He didn't hurt himself, (and honestly, i don't really think he had any intention of doing what he threatened) but he made the threat, and at partial care, so it was grounds for immediate hospitalization.
He's there now. He will be there for 2 or 3 days.
This is so hard. i KNOW it's not my fault, that mark & i have done everything in our power to help him to adapt. he's been put into smaller classes, he's been moved away from kids who would torment him because he's different. it just wasn't enough.
but my heart hurts. i cried last night because i miss my baby boy. i miss him now.
dammit
Sean's in the hospital again. We've been fighting this battle since school started. He's not adapting well to high school. He's been suspended 3 times, and the quarter ended today. He's been in fights, been picked on, and been outrageous in a not-so-good way.
We had him in partial hospitalization all last week (it's like a day-long therapy session), and were about to transition back to school full time, when he pulled his stunt. He didn't hurt himself, (and honestly, i don't really think he had any intention of doing what he threatened) but he made the threat, and at partial care, so it was grounds for immediate hospitalization.
He's there now. He will be there for 2 or 3 days.
This is so hard. i KNOW it's not my fault, that mark & i have done everything in our power to help him to adapt. he's been put into smaller classes, he's been moved away from kids who would torment him because he's different. it just wasn't enough.
but my heart hurts. i cried last night because i miss my baby boy. i miss him now.
dammit
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