I have a head cold.
I am oxygen challenged, especially in the more humid of months, and a head cold equals all sorts of unpleasantness for me. So I knew today was going to e an awesome day.
SydneyBeth slept like a ROCK. No really, I shook that girl for a good solid minute (hello! child services) and the little darling would not get up. And since I was not operating on all cylinders, I let her sleep.
Needless to say, SB was 30 minutes late for school. When I arrived with SB at the school office, looking spectacular with no makeup, baseball cap, and my jammies (yes, I am that mom on occasion), OF COURSE today is the day that EVERYONE in the front office had PTA related finance questions.
Fabulous.
I sounded like Lindsey Lohan the day after a chain smoking and whiskey fueled bender. Pretty sure I felt like it too.
Then Jonny and I headed for the weekly grocery shopping trip that I had already put off twice. If we didn't go today, the kids would be packing diet cokes for lunch.
So, for the SECOND WEEK IN A ROW, Jonny has to tinkle just as I am in the checkout lane.
Seriously.
He's four. There is no holding it.
Luckily, the store was not busy, my order was huge, and the checker promised to go slow.
By the way. I am pretty sure he does it on purpose to spite me. Maybe it is because I ask him to smile at my friends to show off his dimples? Whatever it is,. this crap is getting OLD. I swear I am definitely showing his naked baby pictures to his girlfriends when he is a teenager. I will point to this blog as my motive.
On the way home from gymnastics, the kids decided to wage World War in the backseat. Over what? No idea.
My course of action was to blast the Black Eyed Peas and, later, Glee until they had no choice but to sing a long.
I am a genius.
Then, exactly 5 minutes before I have to put everyone to bed, my father in law asks me to print up a trip tick from AAA for him. I am a member. He is not.
Of course, he needs it NOW. The trip is in a couple of WEEKS.
I am overjoyed.
Now the kids are snuggled with me, because they want to snuggle. Good. But here I am again, telling them not to LICK each other!
Pretty soon, there will be the famous Becca Clark call of distress, "I HAVE HAD IT!", which provokes my husband to fly up the stairs and swoop up a child.
Just. One. More. Whine.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
I am not a nice person. I'm a person.
OK, I am a woman of the world.
I grew up in the city. I was not rich. There were times I had free lunch. No shame.
We moved up, moved down. I floated between socio-economic lines pretty easily. Education does that, but that is another blog...
So now, I am a happy housewife in the suburbs/ex burbs, and life is good. I will not lie. We have our issues, but I am damn happy to be here. So, when someone else is having a rough patch, doesn't everyone pitch in? Isn't that what you rich folks should do?
A friend has brain cancer. It's not pretty. She has a little girl. Time is of the essence. So, the vacation to Disney World has been moved up. To NOW. I knew about this, so of course I write a check.
"Oh Becca, that's so nice"
"No dude. It's normal. It's what you should do. I have it. You need it. Here."
Done and Done
Another friend's sister just lost everything in a house fire. She has 3 kids. So of course I stop what I'm doing and call everyone I know to gather up some supplies and cool stuff so the kids don't have to go to school in Red Cross Standard Issue. Believe me, I saw that crap. Not good.
So, while I was doing this today I got a lot of positive feedback. It was cool and all. But hello! This is normal! This is what we do? Right?
And if not? Why the hell not?
Believe me, in my neighborhood, if someone had a rough patch, the whole neighborhood pitched in. A kid whose grandparents were drunks was taken in when his mom disappeared. Indefinitely. My best friend's family took me in when I was having mom issues. They fed me, took me on vacation. Everything. No questions asked. Grace, who had 5 kids of her own, would make Polish Chicken soup for someone if they had so much as the sniffles. We all babysat, for nothing. Our parents, or someone, would kill us if we didn't take care of the little ones.
And, God forbid, if someone had a fire or a break in. We would clean out or house so the family would be comfortable. And don't get me started on the meals.
I realize the feedback here will be so much bigger than in my old neighborhood. And it should be. We have sooo much to give. This is our job!
I'm not a nice person. I'm a person. It takes a village. Always.
I grew up in the city. I was not rich. There were times I had free lunch. No shame.
We moved up, moved down. I floated between socio-economic lines pretty easily. Education does that, but that is another blog...
So now, I am a happy housewife in the suburbs/ex burbs, and life is good. I will not lie. We have our issues, but I am damn happy to be here. So, when someone else is having a rough patch, doesn't everyone pitch in? Isn't that what you rich folks should do?
A friend has brain cancer. It's not pretty. She has a little girl. Time is of the essence. So, the vacation to Disney World has been moved up. To NOW. I knew about this, so of course I write a check.
"Oh Becca, that's so nice"
"No dude. It's normal. It's what you should do. I have it. You need it. Here."
Done and Done
Another friend's sister just lost everything in a house fire. She has 3 kids. So of course I stop what I'm doing and call everyone I know to gather up some supplies and cool stuff so the kids don't have to go to school in Red Cross Standard Issue. Believe me, I saw that crap. Not good.
So, while I was doing this today I got a lot of positive feedback. It was cool and all. But hello! This is normal! This is what we do? Right?
And if not? Why the hell not?
Believe me, in my neighborhood, if someone had a rough patch, the whole neighborhood pitched in. A kid whose grandparents were drunks was taken in when his mom disappeared. Indefinitely. My best friend's family took me in when I was having mom issues. They fed me, took me on vacation. Everything. No questions asked. Grace, who had 5 kids of her own, would make Polish Chicken soup for someone if they had so much as the sniffles. We all babysat, for nothing. Our parents, or someone, would kill us if we didn't take care of the little ones.
And, God forbid, if someone had a fire or a break in. We would clean out or house so the family would be comfortable. And don't get me started on the meals.
I realize the feedback here will be so much bigger than in my old neighborhood. And it should be. We have sooo much to give. This is our job!
I'm not a nice person. I'm a person. It takes a village. Always.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Things I Have Said in Public
They are a surprise, even to me, sometimes. But at the time, perfectly appropriate.
And I have said every damn one of these...
"Do not lick your sister"
"I do not negotiate with terrorists"
"Yes, you have to keep your underpants on, all day long"
"No, you may not pee in the grass."
"Sure, this is the perfect place for a cartwheel."
"Do not put your feet in your brother's face"
"Do not put your toes in your mouth"
"No, I do not want to smell your feet, thank you."
"Why yes, that is the biggest poop I've ever seen, thanks for pointing that out"
"No, you can't have dog food for breakfast"
"Get your dupa (butt) out of your sister's face"
"You cannot eat pudding without a spoon"
"Please, just eat with your hands" (Jonny likes to put his head in his food)
"Do not wipe your hands on your head"
"That boobie thing is called a bra, and yes, it is bigger than mine. Thanks."
Stay tuned...
And I have said every damn one of these...
"Do not lick your sister"
"I do not negotiate with terrorists"
"Yes, you have to keep your underpants on, all day long"
"No, you may not pee in the grass."
"Sure, this is the perfect place for a cartwheel."
"Do not put your feet in your brother's face"
"Do not put your toes in your mouth"
"No, I do not want to smell your feet, thank you."
"Why yes, that is the biggest poop I've ever seen, thanks for pointing that out"
"No, you can't have dog food for breakfast"
"Get your dupa (butt) out of your sister's face"
"You cannot eat pudding without a spoon"
"Please, just eat with your hands" (Jonny likes to put his head in his food)
"Do not wipe your hands on your head"
"That boobie thing is called a bra, and yes, it is bigger than mine. Thanks."
Stay tuned...
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Normal and LOUD
It's one of those days where absolutely nothing is easy.
Nothing is wrong, it's just not easy.
And everything is really friggin LOUD.
We had Muffins with Mom at Syd's school this morning. It was before 9am, so I was chipper as ever. Jonny was with us too. And it was LOUD.
"Mommy, I don't love this party", he says.
Right.
But it was cool. Syd loved it. And those mini creamers can make even the grumpiest 4 year old happy.
At home, the dishes were all piled up so I got to clang through them and tidy up the house. Why are males incapable of putting dishes in the dishwasher? It's inches away from the sink!
Jonny watched Mary Poppins, I cleaned recycle piles. Folded laundry.
Glamorous stuff.
Then the dog came through and demolished my laundry piles.
Awesome.
Ran all over the house putting laundry away, came down to find Jonny overturned the last laundry basket and was sitting UNDER it.
Too cute to be pissed, but I was working on it.
Then Syd came home from school and it was about 2 solid hours of
"Mommy Mommy MOMMY!"
LOUD
And my husband is unable or unwilling to make his own travel plans, so I had to be Julie the Cruise Director for a trip I'm not going on because I have to stay home with the kids, not that I'm bitter, because it's in Colorado, and I am physically unable to take a quick trip to Colorado. SO I found all his travel options but the punk still won't make a decision.
Awesome.
See, nothing WRONG, just not easy.
Now I just want to read in bed, and surprise! Two little bodies want to be touching!
"Mommy, I love you. I want to snuggle"
"I love you too, where's your dad?"
We had Muffins with Mom at Syd's school this morning. It was before 9am, so I was chipper as ever. Jonny was with us too. And it was LOUD.
"Mommy, I don't love this party", he says.
Right.
But it was cool. Syd loved it. And those mini creamers can make even the grumpiest 4 year old happy.
At home, the dishes were all piled up so I got to clang through them and tidy up the house. Why are males incapable of putting dishes in the dishwasher? It's inches away from the sink!
Jonny watched Mary Poppins, I cleaned recycle piles. Folded laundry.
Glamorous stuff.
Then the dog came through and demolished my laundry piles.
Awesome.
Ran all over the house putting laundry away, came down to find Jonny overturned the last laundry basket and was sitting UNDER it.
Too cute to be pissed, but I was working on it.
Then Syd came home from school and it was about 2 solid hours of
"Mommy Mommy MOMMY!"
LOUD
And my husband is unable or unwilling to make his own travel plans, so I had to be Julie the Cruise Director for a trip I'm not going on because I have to stay home with the kids, not that I'm bitter, because it's in Colorado, and I am physically unable to take a quick trip to Colorado. SO I found all his travel options but the punk still won't make a decision.
Awesome.
See, nothing WRONG, just not easy.
Now I just want to read in bed, and surprise! Two little bodies want to be touching!
"Mommy, I love you. I want to snuggle"
"I love you too, where's your dad?"
Friday, May 7, 2010
COMA
I have often said that I have two speeds, 100 MPH, and coma.
Last week, while my beloved was golfing, I was at 100 MPH.I was getting kids to and from school, gymnastics, trampoline, soccer, etc. I was hosting sleepovers. I was moving Grammy to and from wheelchairs, in and out of the house. And yes, I was a rock star carpet cleaner.
Yesterday, I hit COMA.
I have lung issues. Have since I was five. I spent a lot of time on the ninth floor (the lung floor) of Children's Memorial in Chicago in my youth, up to when I went to college. Why was the lung floor on the top of the building? cruel joke, I guess.
I am a better manager of my breathing now, and the improvement of pharmaceuticals over the last several years has helped a lot, but sometimes, I just can't breathe.
SO I was having an episode. Just chest pains, no real attack, but the damn thing wouldn't stop.
I took my arsenal of meds, still pain, and I was SO FRIGGIN TIRED.
And cold.
Something was not cool.
I figured it was steroid time, that dreaded time of the year where nothing else will work but a large does of oral steroids. No, not the body builder kind. The other kind that seems to cure just about anything quickly, but leaves you with killer headaches, bloated, jittery, and moody.
Awesome.
I marched into Urgent Care, and saw a doctor I know pretty well from my not so rare visits to Urgent Care(remember Jonny Danger?) . The cute one. Doctor Blue Eyes.
But first the nurse takes my vitals and she is pissed.
"Stop moving your arm, I can't get your blood pressure"
"I'm not moving my arm"
"Do you have low blood pressure?"
"Um, no"
"OK, let's do it again"
The second time it read 90/70. Shit.
Instead of the usual "looks fine", that nurse RAN out of my little room.
Fuck.
Blue Eyes comes right in to deal with the rest of me. He listens to my chest, and before I can tell him that I am the rare asthmatic who does not wheeze, he says,
"You're the one who normally doesn't wheeze, right"
"Why yes, thanks for remembering, I was just going to tell you that."
"Well, you are wheezing up a storm now. I'm glad you came in today"
Fuck.
So he waves the paper with my vitals on me, tells me I should be dead, and makes me promise to take immediate steroids, and follow up with more medication. And do nothing for the rest of the day.
Easy Peasy.
Welcome to my coma.
Luckily enough, Jon came running when I told him the happy news. He took the kids, and I took to bed, my meds, and some chocolate. See, I take direction well.
Now, I am a little loopy, slightly jittery, I have we rid sleeping habits and I am hungry all the time, but I can breathe, and my chest doesn't hurt anymore.
Eureka.
And today, my BP was 120/80.
I AM ALIVE AGAIN!
In celebration, I finally got myself that damn pedicure.
Awesome.
But if you see me running more than 3 errands in a day for the next week, please tell me to slow the hell down.
seeing the cute doctor is not worth the coma.
Last week, while my beloved was golfing, I was at 100 MPH.I was getting kids to and from school, gymnastics, trampoline, soccer, etc. I was hosting sleepovers. I was moving Grammy to and from wheelchairs, in and out of the house. And yes, I was a rock star carpet cleaner.
Yesterday, I hit COMA.
I have lung issues. Have since I was five. I spent a lot of time on the ninth floor (the lung floor) of Children's Memorial in Chicago in my youth, up to when I went to college. Why was the lung floor on the top of the building? cruel joke, I guess.
I am a better manager of my breathing now, and the improvement of pharmaceuticals over the last several years has helped a lot, but sometimes, I just can't breathe.
SO I was having an episode. Just chest pains, no real attack, but the damn thing wouldn't stop.
I took my arsenal of meds, still pain, and I was SO FRIGGIN TIRED.
And cold.
Something was not cool.
I figured it was steroid time, that dreaded time of the year where nothing else will work but a large does of oral steroids. No, not the body builder kind. The other kind that seems to cure just about anything quickly, but leaves you with killer headaches, bloated, jittery, and moody.
Awesome.
I marched into Urgent Care, and saw a doctor I know pretty well from my not so rare visits to Urgent Care(remember Jonny Danger?) . The cute one. Doctor Blue Eyes.
But first the nurse takes my vitals and she is pissed.
"Stop moving your arm, I can't get your blood pressure"
"I'm not moving my arm"
"Do you have low blood pressure?"
"Um, no"
"OK, let's do it again"
The second time it read 90/70. Shit.
Instead of the usual "looks fine", that nurse RAN out of my little room.
Fuck.
Blue Eyes comes right in to deal with the rest of me. He listens to my chest, and before I can tell him that I am the rare asthmatic who does not wheeze, he says,
"You're the one who normally doesn't wheeze, right"
"Why yes, thanks for remembering, I was just going to tell you that."
"Well, you are wheezing up a storm now. I'm glad you came in today"
Fuck.
So he waves the paper with my vitals on me, tells me I should be dead, and makes me promise to take immediate steroids, and follow up with more medication. And do nothing for the rest of the day.
Easy Peasy.
Welcome to my coma.
Luckily enough, Jon came running when I told him the happy news. He took the kids, and I took to bed, my meds, and some chocolate. See, I take direction well.
Now, I am a little loopy, slightly jittery, I have we rid sleeping habits and I am hungry all the time, but I can breathe, and my chest doesn't hurt anymore.
Eureka.
And today, my BP was 120/80.
I AM ALIVE AGAIN!
In celebration, I finally got myself that damn pedicure.
Awesome.
But if you see me running more than 3 errands in a day for the next week, please tell me to slow the hell down.
seeing the cute doctor is not worth the coma.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Year of Becca
The other day, my friend complimented me on my eye makeup. She really liked all the greens and purples and browns around my eyes.
Only one problem.
I wasn't wearing any makeup.
Well, at least I know I look hot when I am completely exhausted.
It's like getting a compliment on your hair when it's filthy. Awesome.
Well, that little gem reminded me of a promise I made to myself recently. Not in January, but whatever.
This is the YEAR OF BECCA!
DAMMIT!
Every couple of years, I notice that I may be in danger of slipping away from myself, so I grab those reigns and tug.
This is what I am doing to remind myself that every one in a while, I get to be first in line of priorities...
I am putting on perfume every day (when I remember). Just smelling like vanilla makes me feel a little more like me.
Chain reading. I will never be book-less. Therefore I will not stop reading for myself. Therefore I will not forget I have a brain in my cute little head.
I have three piercings in one ear. And I will wear earrings in every damn one of them. Again, strange and insignificant to you. Big deal to me.
I'm gettin back on that skate board. I know it's weird and not mom like at all. But, I like it, it keeps me active when the kids are active, and I feel like a ROCK STAR!
3 day (OK, maybe 2) day a week gym date.Whether or not the kids fuss about the kid's club. They will not die, and in the long run they will be happier when Mommy gets time to work out.
There will be chocolate sorbet in the freezer at all times.
Every Sunday morning, I sit down with my coffee and watch "Sunday Morning". It's relaxing, informative, and it reminds me of my dad. All good. And the kids hate it. Even better.
Pedicures whenever physically possible. I choose by OPI name. More important than color. If it makes me giggle, I'm good.
I will continue to try to get out with my friends more. Feel free to remind me.
I know, they aren't huge things, but when practiced consistently, they remind me that I am worthwhile, and pretty important to my family. So I'm going with it.
So, put yourself first too. See ya at the nail salon...
Only one problem.
I wasn't wearing any makeup.
Well, at least I know I look hot when I am completely exhausted.
It's like getting a compliment on your hair when it's filthy. Awesome.
Well, that little gem reminded me of a promise I made to myself recently. Not in January, but whatever.
This is the YEAR OF BECCA!
DAMMIT!
Every couple of years, I notice that I may be in danger of slipping away from myself, so I grab those reigns and tug.
This is what I am doing to remind myself that every one in a while, I get to be first in line of priorities...
I am putting on perfume every day (when I remember). Just smelling like vanilla makes me feel a little more like me.
Chain reading. I will never be book-less. Therefore I will not stop reading for myself. Therefore I will not forget I have a brain in my cute little head.
I have three piercings in one ear. And I will wear earrings in every damn one of them. Again, strange and insignificant to you. Big deal to me.
I'm gettin back on that skate board. I know it's weird and not mom like at all. But, I like it, it keeps me active when the kids are active, and I feel like a ROCK STAR!
3 day (OK, maybe 2) day a week gym date.Whether or not the kids fuss about the kid's club. They will not die, and in the long run they will be happier when Mommy gets time to work out.
There will be chocolate sorbet in the freezer at all times.
Every Sunday morning, I sit down with my coffee and watch "Sunday Morning". It's relaxing, informative, and it reminds me of my dad. All good. And the kids hate it. Even better.
Pedicures whenever physically possible. I choose by OPI name. More important than color. If it makes me giggle, I'm good.
I will continue to try to get out with my friends more. Feel free to remind me.
I know, they aren't huge things, but when practiced consistently, they remind me that I am worthwhile, and pretty important to my family. So I'm going with it.
So, put yourself first too. See ya at the nail salon...
Sunday, May 2, 2010
VICTORY!
My husband and Poppa are still out of town.
I am tired.
This weekend, the five days as the most sane person in the house was beginning to show.
Yes, I am as amused by that above statement as you are.
Grammy got a little extra pitiful while I was helping her throughout the day. At one point I had to tell her that the whining and negative attitude were not helping. And no, I will not make a fried egg sandwich with jelly on toast for breakfast. Not only do I not know how, but I can barely make a pot of coffee before 10am.
Then I felt a little guilty about that and bought her some chocolate.
And I swear, the constant "mommy" "Mommy!" "MOMMY!" was driving me nuts!
SydneyBeth had a friend sleep over, and though that did help keep everyone amused, and I finally got to sit down for more than ten minutes at a time (to fold laundry, of course) those little monsters managed to stay up til 1AM! CRAZY!
Today I took both kids to a party at the batting cages, which was great in theory, not so much in practice.
It was roughly 100 degrees in that (literally) stinking place, with no AC. And neither one of my kids actually wanted to hit anything. So that was fun. But they seems to be amused.
And tonight the only way I could arrange to spend a few minutes to soak my aching bones was to take a bath with the kids. Yes, I used three in one wacky watermelon hair and body wash, but I did spend 20 minutes in the tub with the jets on, so that's a victory, right?
Now, Sydney has finally fallen asleep on time. Jonny just told me loved me without asking for anything afterwards, and Jon and Poppa will be home in a couple of hours.
I made it!
I am getting a pedicure tomorrow to celebrate!
Right after grocery shopping and before pre-school pick up.
I hope.
Maybe not.
I am tired.
This weekend, the five days as the most sane person in the house was beginning to show.
Yes, I am as amused by that above statement as you are.
Grammy got a little extra pitiful while I was helping her throughout the day. At one point I had to tell her that the whining and negative attitude were not helping. And no, I will not make a fried egg sandwich with jelly on toast for breakfast. Not only do I not know how, but I can barely make a pot of coffee before 10am.
Then I felt a little guilty about that and bought her some chocolate.
And I swear, the constant "mommy" "Mommy!" "MOMMY!" was driving me nuts!
SydneyBeth had a friend sleep over, and though that did help keep everyone amused, and I finally got to sit down for more than ten minutes at a time (to fold laundry, of course) those little monsters managed to stay up til 1AM! CRAZY!
Today I took both kids to a party at the batting cages, which was great in theory, not so much in practice.
It was roughly 100 degrees in that (literally) stinking place, with no AC. And neither one of my kids actually wanted to hit anything. So that was fun. But they seems to be amused.
And tonight the only way I could arrange to spend a few minutes to soak my aching bones was to take a bath with the kids. Yes, I used three in one wacky watermelon hair and body wash, but I did spend 20 minutes in the tub with the jets on, so that's a victory, right?
Now, Sydney has finally fallen asleep on time. Jonny just told me loved me without asking for anything afterwards, and Jon and Poppa will be home in a couple of hours.
I made it!
I am getting a pedicure tomorrow to celebrate!
Right after grocery shopping and before pre-school pick up.
I hope.
Maybe not.
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