Sunday, August 2, 2009

Back To School...Yee-frickin-HAH!

Yep, its that time again. I know I'm supposed to be happy and all encouraging and whatever, but OMG, the rules have changed since I was shoved out the front door with my spankin' new back pack and blinding white new KEDS, with my mom kissing us on the heads and pointing up the hill. Nothing is as easy as it used to be.

The first day of school for me was about unsharpened pencils, 24 perfect crayons, new notebooks that I hadn't yet written my new crushes name on, and shoes that hurt to walk in for a week. And, dear god, did we walk! Everyday, to AND from school. This just shocks the shit out of my children. Their beloved, sweet grandma MADE me walk? At the time, I had no idea that there was any other way to get there. That sort of child abuse is not to be tolerated in this day and age. When my kids start school, I begin logging more miles than a cab driver working overtime. Yet it is still a mystery why the childhood obesity rates have skyrocketed...

Things in our neck of the woods have gotten a bit more complicated than just maxing out the credit card to purchase the list of "essential items" the teachers demand they produce, lest I earn the label of uncaring, uninvolved mom. Whatever. I'm sure I'll scream about that little scam after I actually get the bill for this years list of useless bullshit. Anyway, the Utah legislature, at the urging of some of the overpaid jackasses and home owners who live on, what they consider to be the right side of the tracks, got together and decided that they want to split off from the old school district. They had some boring fiscal reasons. Like they pay a crap load more in property taxes than those on the west side do, and they have 1/2 as many children enrolled, whine, bitch, kvetch. I'm sure the word demographics was thrown in somewhere...To tell you the truth, I didn't even care at the time, because I didn't live in the affected area.

Politics in Utah tend to run toward the insanely stupid, like making restaurants build walls around their drink making areas so that our poor children are not subjected to the sight of a wine bottle, as it may incite a 3 year old to demand his sippy cup be filled with Chardonnay, and force the teenagers to become alcoholics at the mere sight of a beer tap. And selling half of downtown Salt Lake to the mormons, causing gay people to protest when church security threw them out of the "Garden of Peace and Tranquility" for smooching. They held a "Kiss In" for 3 weekends after that. So I figured when all of this crap was going on, lawmakers were just on to another of the useless bills they love so much. Then we moved, so that means I have to care. I really tried not to, but my sister lives on the west side that my now neighbors are talking about. I really never thought that in Utah there could be a bill that kinda sorta punishes people for having too many children, and not having as much money as some others. But, hell has frozen over, and here we are. The only reason I can see for splitting the district is because it was too big, and it sucked. We moved from an area where my kids never had more than 20 kids in their class to one where you were lucky if there were enough desks. I guess to be fair, and because my sister made me look, I do pay more property taxes. I still didn't really care though. I do now.

We now live in the most hated school district in the state, for good reason. You can glean a shit load of unpublicized info eavesdropping at the park. Good lord, the snobbery!! They placed the new boundary smack dab on, what they thought was the economic divide. This bullshit caste system is too much like the Dr. Seuss book, The Sneetches. I don't want to have my children thinking that they HAVE to have a new laptop, ALL branded clothes and a Burberry bag just to attend kindergarten, in addition to the other lame waste of money bullshit that the upper crusty's provide their over indulged offspring with. We have gone way past reasonable when a 12 year old thinks he MUST have a REAL iphone, mummy! Back to the eavesdropping, apparently, since we are not "footing the bill for other peoples kids, the food might not look like dog food, and we won't have to send lunchables. Really, canned veggies are just wrong, ya know?"
So are potato chips and glow in the dark cheese, but nobody asked me.
So needless to say, I AM NOT looking forward to the new school year which promises only more and more douchebaggery and snooty ass behavior. Stupid me, I thought that we might have learned from all the emphasis being placed on excess, and not enough on giving our children an edumacation worth something. In light of all the current stupidity, I have decided to save myself the trouble, and enrolled my 14 year old social butterfly in the new online school.
The kind of fresh hell he would have put me through with the star bellied biatches is something I can live without. An emphasis on learning, and not just about everything he DOES NOT HAVE, (because I am the worst mom), is just what the doctor ordered. Especially in light of the fact that he has chosen to stop taking his medication for ADHD, which I totally support him in, but cannot do FOR him. No more Adderall. Lucky Me!!! I get to play teacher, therapist and taxi driver this year.
I hope I can get in the spirit, as my last child, and my only girl starts kindergarten this year. Maybe sniffing her crayons and buying her some keds will work. Otherwise, I am screwed.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Easy street

This is our cat Bolt, aka Crack Jack. He has been known to attack the dog and hang from her jowls by the teeth and come flying out of our pine tree from 20 feet up and land on the other cat, Stormy, who is very old, and very fat. Needless to say, Stormy does not appreciate the behavior of the cat on crack. Strange, but the dog does. In fact, she and this cat are inseparable. Zena recently saved the cat from certain death by refusing to move, and crying at the back gate to alert us to the fact that Crack Jack was stuck under the raingutter during a storm.
I have been seriously considering taking this cat to the no kill shelter, as I got him at Christmas for my son Jordan when I got Breanna her beloved Bella. I only did this because the lady at the Animal Shelter informed me that he was going to be put down the next day, and that would have been Christmas Eve. I couldn't have that, and so we got 2 for the price of one.
However, this animal has an aversion to the litter box. He prefers the living room corner. I cannot have this as we once moved into a house once inhabited by 80 cats. Thats a story I'll save for another time. But this left my husband with an aversion to cats in general, and was only talked into getting one (umm, yeah, 2) by the only little girl we have, and her big blue eyes. I have tried every humane tactic I have heard of and he still insists on going over there, and leaving presents for us. He is so brazen about it! He will look you right in the eye while he befowls the house, as you are screaming and looking for the spray bottle of vinegar and water to shoot him with. I think the dog is the only reason he is still here. That, and because he is cute. If anyone has any suggestions, I would appreciate it. He is again on death row, and about to be released into the wild by one irate husband, who does not care that I saved his life on Chritmas Eve.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Am I Older Than Dirt?

So I was having a conversation with my 5 year old today about TV shows. She has now become a fan of Noggin. This is fine with me, as I cannot stand the fantasy life portrayed by the Disney channel. My 12 year old thinks that is the way life should be and spends most of his time throwing out one liners from the lala land show about kids who live in luxury hotels. Needless to say, we do not have turndown service here, and he is greatly offended.
Anyway, she was asking me what shows I watched when I was a kid, and apparently she has no idea what the Polka Dot Door is, had never heard of Fraggle Rock, and was not even remotely impressed by the fact that I was on Romper Room when I was little, because she had no idea what it was.
So she asked me if we had Noggin. No? Nicktoons? Nope. So she aasked me if we even HAD TV when I was little. Yes, we had PBS, Breanna, because your grandparents were too cheap to pay for cable.
Now she wants to know what cable is, we have a dish.
I am doubling up on the face cream, and if that doesn't work soon, I want a refund from Elizabeth Arden, Lancome, and Target. Yes folks, I am now going to insist I get what I pay for, and if you say Youth in a Jar, you damn well better mean it.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

So is it MRSA, or not?

My oldest son DJ was helping a neighbor Sunday before last, and he came home and was itching his arm like a dog with fleas. He showed me what I thought was a mosquito on his forearm, and i just put some campho=phenique on it, and forgot it. But the next day I called to make sure he was on his way home from school, and he says,

"Oh yeah, and mom? I think you might need to take me to the doctors. That bite got really big."

So I'm thinking that his big and my big are like the difference between a chihuahua and Zena, our mastiff. Ok, so I was wrong.

This thing was huge! He had A Popeye arm, and I would have taken a picture but I was totally freaked out. So I ran him to the ER, and this man next to had just lost the tip of his finger in a lawnmower accident. In another post, I will let you in on why I don't seem so shocked at the finger loss accident-been there done that. It kinda (not really) put it into perspective, but then this doctor came over and takes one look at his arm, doesn't even touch him, and says,

"Well, 90% of all bites we are seeing these days are MRSA. So I'm going to give him this antibiotic and this one, blah, blah, blah..."

That is all I heard after MRSA. I know what that is. My child has the superbug!!! Lovely, and it would have to be the one who has taken the most antibiotics in his life. This was a conversation which took all of 35 seconds, and he basically just scared the shit out of me, and walked away.

So I took him home, and went to get his prescription, and then came home to watch him. And watch some more, and he is 16 and he doesn't so much like that anymore and I don't know what exactly I was watching for. Maybe a big bug with fangs and puss to come out of his ear so I knew it had left him ? I have no clue, but hovering would be an under statement. I even wanted him to sleep with me, but as he is 16, I settled for on the couch.

The next day, I called his regular doctor and he made me feel better, but told me that if his arm became any more swollen or red, take him back in. That night it became more red and even bigger. So, because I was the picture of the calm and collected mother, I ran him across the street to the DENTIST who lives there and is now considering moving. At that point, I figured an MD is an MD? No, but it freaked him out and he assured me that I would not be over reacting if I took him back to the ER. So I did.

There seems to have been a run on the ER that night, and DJ was freaked out to say the least. When we checked in, the nurse was so kind as she told my needle phobic child that he was going to have to have an IV. Thank You Nurse Ratchet! Needless to say, he tried to bid her good day, and run. He still had hold of his manners. So, I got him back to the exam bed in the middle of the room, and the man next to us, wearing a charming anklet with a flashing red light, is instructing the doctor on the correct dosage of Dilodid he would require to make it home. And there seems to have been a kerfuffle of some sort at a nearby bar involving a bitch , a ho, and a very large woman (?) who is a word I cannot say or I will be struck by lightening. And DJ was sitting in the middle of the room with a front row seat.

A very nice doctor came over and looked at his arm, and then marked the outline of the redness and swelling with a sharpie, and then told me that DJ does NOT have MRSA, per se, but they are treating him as if he does, in case it is. HUH? DJ was fine with that, but I wanted to ask questions, and he wanted to leave, lest the man decide to get out that IV. And the "ladies"down the hall were causing a ruckus over the last blanket in the warmer. So he told me to keep giving him the antibiotics, and gave him a stronger anti histamine, and told me that if the swelling grows to be an inch out of the sharpie line, bring him back.

So it seems that I reacted a little too soon, as he was 199% better the next day. So I let him out of the house. He was great, and taking his medicine until Saturday morning when he woke up with a fever of 104.5, and a raging headache. Mind you, as he has always had a problem with high fevers, I did not freak out that much. Just added Advil and Tylenol, switched out like he always has. But I still did the good modern mommy thing, and checked Google. Yes, Universe, he is going to die, according to Google.

By Sunday night, he had somehow developed a case of hives the likes of which I had never seen. He looked like a tomato, as they had started on his neck, and settled on his face and upper body. and as I was blithering on and getting ready to take him back to the ER, he put his foot down. Apparently he would rather die. This alerted me to the possibility that the state of our emergency rooms were such that a High School age child thinks that there is too much drama there for even him to handle. So I called, and was told what I already knew.

It seems that he is having a reaction to the Sulfa in the antibiotics, but that doesn't explain the fever. So I took him to the doctor the next day. His was out so he saw a woman. Oh God, THE HORROR! But she was good! Great even. She made the over-worked docs at the ER look like hacks. he was extremely offended when she touched his peetail. It reminded me of the scene in that movie Multiplicity where the 4th copy says,

"She touched my pepee, Steve."

Then when I asked her to tell him he really needed to start drinking, she looked at me real funny, and then started laughing. She thought I was suggesting he start knocking back shots of Jager or something. I love this doctor. She actually TOUCHED the patient during the examination, she knew what was wrong, AND (BONUS!!!) she has a sense of humor. He has a secondary infection, and has to take a different medicine, and then come back in a week for a follow up. Do you have any idea how refreshing it is when you get an answer, or when a doctor actually acts like they care what happens? I probably paid more to go to the ER twice, then I will for all the medication and the GOOD doctors appointment. Why are doctors immune to the get what you pay for rule? I want a refund.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Do I ground you and take away your phone or put you in time-out and take away your cookies?

So I posted some pictures of the children I call The Babies. I call them this because I had a major brain infarction when my 3rd son started kindergarten and I felt that I had been put out of a job. So I had another, and then the girl squeaked through just as I was about to close up shop. I do not regret this decision, as they are very cute. But I must say, I would not recommend this, for the following reasons.

I now do not know what the hell I am doing. Had I known that a harmless 11 year old would soon turn into a boy with PMS, pre-man syndrome, I do not think these people would exist. My oldest was children were 11, 9, and 7 when my last child was born. I had no idea what was to come. The age between 7-11 are relatively harmless. When they hit 13, you are now the enemy.

I have to shift gears so fast, I make no sense. When 3 o'clock rolls around, and the elders get home from school, and you do have to make sure they have been to school, suddenly you are to switch between one child nagging to go to the mall before homework, and another wanting to run around with no pants on. I have often found myself telling DJ, my 16 year old, to go sit in the naughty chair until he can change his attitude, and asking a 5 yr old if her report on Robert E. Lee is done yet. I think they like this state of confusion, and do all they can to see that I remain this way.

Recently, Jordy man went on a tirade which even impressed me. Shortly after one of the elders had given an oratory about what I NEVER let him do, what EVERYONE else is allowed to do, and I don't let him have a life, blah, blah, blah...translation? My homework isn't done, and I don't want to do it, and please don't check powerschool (I LOVE THE INTERNET!!!). So Jordy stormed in and informed me that he has no "FREAKIN" life and I never let him do anything. It was at that point I realized that I had entered a new and horrid realm of parenting.

With the first 3, the only influence that had any bearing on their behavior came from me, their dad, and Barney. These children are being exposed to Teen Brain daily. I believe I have said that the teen brain IS a drug. So I have 2 crack babies, and I didn't even get to do the drugs.

Oddly enough, I have found some similarities. The 16 yr old and the 5 yr old both pout ALOT. One because his texting is turned off, and one because the TV is turned off. The 12 yr old complains when I make him change his favorite pants, and the 6 yr old complains if his favorite bowl is in the dishwasher, and I gave him a spoon with flowers on it. Both of them are a bit OCD. And that leaves the 14 yr old, and he has ADHD so he is chemically programmed to drive everyone insane.

The 12 yr old, Kolton, is still relatively harmless, though he has recently began lobbying for a cell phone. I do believe I should hold stock in Verizon, as eventually I am going to pay them more per month than I do for our house. Speaking of which, I also believe that Wachovia Mortgage only hires people with organic brain disease, as none of their employees can read or write. What is the point of a Pick A Payment loan anyway? Who, if given a choice is going to choose a higher payment? Another similarity, like talking a child into the virtues of extra credit. It won't work.

Take my advice, and take advantage of the 7-11. Its all downhill and round the bend after that.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Don't take your teenager to the health food store

I recently discovered a new mommy commandment. I had just gotten Jesse, the 14 year old, from school and Good Earth was on the way home, and I didn't want to have to battle traffic going home to drop him off and then going back, so I broke my rule and took the child to the store. You should know, I do not like to take ANY child to ANY store. This would be why this child had no idea that I buy some of the food he crams into his very large mouth from stores like Good Earth and The Sunflower Market. THE HORROR!!!
So within seconds of entering the store, he asked loudly, "What IS that SMELL?" I asked him to please keep his voice down and don't embarrass me. Have I mentioned that this particular child is mother-deaf? Well, he is.
I had to get some vitamins, so we went to the back of the store to look for them. Now this area of the store seemed to intrigue and revolt him at the same time. There were some elderly people who were talking to a salesman about a supplement to help with a severe problem with trapped gas and how long it would take for them to find some relief. Jesse, who laughs like a hyena, began to laugh. So I tried to move the mammoth child quickly out of the way, and went to the next aisle over. This was a mistake as it happened to be the section for men with certain problems involving their plumbing, and he called me a pervert.
I suggested that he go find out where the bathroom was for me, and when he returned he had a hand full of nuts, and an awful look on his face. He asked me what was wrong with these nuts? I was trying to read something and I told him I didn't know. He ate another one, and suggested, (not in these words) that the old people had taken the pills and had relieved themselves on the nuts. So I looked at them and told him he was eating raw cashews, that they hadn't been cooked. So he left, and came back with different nuts. My brain kicked in at that point, and I asked him where he got them and he said, "They have these big bins in a room back there, so I can taste this stuff so you won't buy it. What ARE these?"
So I figured today was not the day to see which supplement I should take so I would not get anymore headaches, because I had now found the cause of them. As we walked back through the store he made many comments about whether or not the people in this store ever ate, cuz they look sick, and am I trying to kill him with this food?
Then I made the grave mistake of walking down the chip aisle in an attempt to get him away from the stand where they were making wheat grass juice, as I already know his opinion on this matter, he calls it cow ass juice. I figured that the whole store did not need to know that he felt very strongly that only cows should be eating grass. There was an incident at Jamba Juice, which I would rather forget. But I had forgotten that he had even stronger feeling about the integrity of the potato. He looked around and said, "OK, now heres the stuff!!", and grabbed a bag of rice chips. He looked at the label, and said ewwww. Grabbed one with a potato on the front, and was absolutely shocked at what he read. He then proceeded to yell,
"MOM!!! They disgraced the chips!!!! There's no oil in them, they popped a potato!! How could they pop the potato?"
Now people were staring. I needed to get out. So I told him to go get a drink, threw the cereal and juice in the basket, and ran for the check out. He asked the clerk what is wrong with their gum, and why they pop the potato, and I sent him out to the car with his drink. But he opened it in front of the doors outside and spit it on the ground, and loudly stated,
"Can't you even leave the root beer alone? What is wrong with this?"
I told the check out lady that he was off his meds, and pulled my sunglasses down, realizing that I would no longer be welcome at Good Earth again.
When we got into the car, he told me that going there is why I am sick. For the love of god they have people in there that can't even fart. There was reference to not breaking wind, blowing dust, and then I turned the radio up. Then he showed me how very adept at releasing gas he was, all the while reading the back of the root beer bottle, and asking my what in Gods name is sasparilla. Lovely.
He is now refusing to eat the cereal he has been eating for a year, as he read the label, and now knows that the marshmallows in it are colored with beet juice and blueberry juice, and he would rather have blue lake #5.