Tuesday, December 27, 2005
We went to Mike's parents on the 23rd. It's always fun. In addition to our regular presents we exchange dollar gifts. The rules are you have to buy a gift for everyone (except yourself) and it cannot cost more than a dollar. We have more fun buying and exchanging these gifts than we do all of the others. Mike and Lullah always take a day the week before Christmas and go buy their dollar gifts.
Lullah raked in the gifts as usual. I always end up getting her more than I'd planned on. It's easy to do.
I got my Chanel No. 5 stash replenished, so I'm happy. And I smell nice too.
I plan to give y'all a better update later.
I hope everyone had a great holiday.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Lullah and I baked today. Magic Bars and sausage balls. Yum. We delivered them to some friends, her "not-a-boyfriend" guy friend, and Mike's parents. Now we are going to sit down for a Gilmore Girl frenzy. Season 5, yaaaaay! We're sad.
Monday, December 19, 2005
After 16 ounces of orange juice we checked her blood sugar. It was 34. SHIIIIIT! was the word that my mind was screaming. We get nervous when it gets below 70. We treat it immediately if it's below 65. 34 is seriously low. Seizure low. Holy crap low. I managed to stay calm and got the glucagon injection just in case she actually seized. She was shaking all over, she does this weird head jerk thing when she's super low. It's extremely scary.
After more orange juice and some graham crackers she was finally 90. She was also nauseated and exhausted. When she gets low it completely wipes her out.
Once the crisis had passed she said to me "I hate this shit."
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Last week we got a letter from Lullah's endocrinologist with her lab results. Her HgA1C was 9.6%. It's a test that measures a persons average blood sugar for the last 3 months. Her blood sugars are NOT in control. The results for the last 3 visits (we go every 3 months) have been about the same, in the 9% range. The target goal is 7% or less.
The thing is, I'm pretty sure she isn't taking her insulin like she's supposed to. I think she randomly chooses her doses. She takes minimum of 4 shots a day. Her morning dose is an intermediate acting insulin(NPH) mixed with a sliding dose of a fast acting insulin(Humalog). She takes a sliding dose of the fast acting insulin at lunch and supper. She takes a long acting insulin(Lantus) at bedtime. She's supposed to decide the sliding dose based on the number of carbs she's going to eat. I think she's shorting the dose. In addition, she isn't taking the amount the MD prescribed for her am NPH or the evening Lantus dose.
It's been a long time since I've felt this helpless. She has to be the one responsible for her diabetes care, but she's not doing well. If I take over, she's going to end up resenting me for it. Also, I can't be the one to take care of her everywhere she goes. She's not 8 anymore.
I talked to her Friday night about the serious consequences of not getting her levels in control. Blindness, kidney failure (ending up on dialysis), amputation, heart disease. We've talked about it before, but not in depth because we didn't want to instill fear or hopelessness in her. But the reality of diabetes is that if you don't take care of it, you WILL end up with some really serious health problems. There's no maybe.
For a 15 year old, I guess those things seem like scary bedtime stories. But, for me the monster waiting in the dark is very real.
Mike thinks she's in denial. That she's trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. If she does just what she's supposed to do and doesn't think about diabetes then, she's just like all the other kids. He's probably right. I also think she's afraid of her blood sugar getting low and acting foolish or having a seizure in front of everyone. Which also goes back to wanting to be normal.
I am so afraid and helpless right now that I feel like I can't breathe. I HATE DIABETES!!!!!!!!! I am being irrational, I know. This is a manageable disease and things could always be worse, but I'm so pissed about the whole mess.
I hate the bruises on Lullah's stomach from the shots, I hate that there isn't a cookie in my house, I hate the tiny specks on Lullah's fingers from the fingersticks, I hate the box of insulin in my refrigerator, I hate that every purse we buy Lullah needs pockets for her damn meter, I hate that food is a major topic of discussion at least once a day at my house, I hate the bottle of used syringes in my kitchen, I hate the look that people get on their face when the find out she has diabetes, I hate the food police that question her when she's eating something they think she shouldn't. I hate it. I just do.
And I don't know what to do.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Monday, December 05, 2005
One of his friend's sister lived in the 9th ward in New Orleans and had been missing since the flood. She had decided to not evactuate. Like a lot of people, she'd evacuated before for what had ended up being a false alarm. And like a lot of people she felt the levees would be fine. Noone had heard from her since the night before the hurricane. Her son had went back about a month ago to look for her again, but found no sign of her. The family was in limbo and worried.
A week ago, they went back and did a more thorough check. They found her remains in her attic. She most likely drowned there.
I can't imagine a death like that.
In the midst of all the rhetoric and finger pointing that's happening down there we can't forget that real people died. There are still people searching for their loved ones.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
I love lazy Saturdays.
This week has been crazy.
My sister-in-law came over most of Monday and all of Tuesday for my help with an English paper. (I may one day blog about that, but for now let me just say...I've got some issues with the English class).
After she left Monday I started to put lights on the Christmas tree. It fell on my head. The stand was kaput. I made a flying trip to town (an hour away-no stands here that were big enough) for a new one. Picked Lullah up after dance line practice, dropped her home and went to play practice.(I'm Jeanette in "The Last of the Red Hot Lovers") Mike took her to dance class and picked her up (whew). Got home, we fixed the tree. Then I found out I only had one strand of lights for a gigantic tree.
Tuesday the SIL was here until 5:15pm. I left her here and went to the local WalMart. I had to be at practice at 6. After practice I once again started decorating the tree.
Wednesday is dance class for Lullah (an hour away).
Thursday was dress rehearsal for the play.
Friday was the town Christmas parade (I did the music for the dance line, the high school cheerleaders, the jr. high school cheerleaders and the dance studio that Lullah dances at). I left the parade and went for our first play performance. Home at 10:15 after stopping by Popeyes for a biscuit. Oh and the ex-danceline sponsor is a charter member of our local community theatre. Yeah, she was there. It was weird.
So...I love lazy Saturdays.
And then LSU got the crap kicked out of them.
Buttercup is seriously depressed now.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
BitchPhD has posted her "radical-married- feminist-manifesto". It has stirred considerable debate. At last check there were over 200 comments. Wow. I think she's stirred the pot.
I adore BitchPhD. She makes me think, she makes me laugh. Both accomplishments I value greatly. I completely enjoy BitchPhD's blog and found myself nodding in agreement with her post on numerous points. I also read the article she's blogging about(it can be found here) and found myself doing the same. The article and Bitch's blog entry take on the issue of educated women opting out of the work force.
Here's my problem. I consider myself a feminist. I've come to the realization that there are probably alot of other feminists who would disagree and say that I am not. The article BitchPhD references kinda smacked me in the face with that fact. The stay-at-home-mom debate is apparently alive and well and I guess I'm on the wrong side of the argument. After reading the article, I felt extremely marginalized and diminished. Isn't that one of the things the women's' movement had hoped to end? Maybe since it's another women doing the marginalizing it's ok. (I'll stop being sarcastic now.)
I'm happy with my life. I'm essentially a stay-at-home-mom. I work as a contract nurse so I schedule work when I want to, otherwise I'm a SAHM.
I didn't end up a SAHM. I wasn't coerced into staying at home. I am not a SAHM under duress. I realize the financial ramifications of my being a SAHM (which is one of the points the article seems to focus on).
The thing is this...
I am tired of having to justify myself to other people. This decision was made by ME. I am NOT wasting my potential (as a family member attempts on a regular basis to convince me). I am not holding back the women's movement (as the article made me feel I was doing). And I am not sitting at home on my laurel's watching Oprah (as a women in Wal-Mart inferred yesterday).
I have done both full time work and been a SAHM. I worked full-time when Lullah was a baby and helped my husband finish college. I took a year off after he graduated because we knew it was a temporary placement and Lullah started a half day Kindergarten program at the same time. We were also living 3 1/2 hours away from anyone we knew. When we moved to a more permanent place, this time 7 hours away from our family, Lullah started a full day school program and I went back to work full time. Our lives stayed this way until her diabetes diagnosis. At that time, I became a SAHM to take care of her needs. It wasn't a difficult decision. I'm a nurse, Mike is an engineer. Who was better suited to take care of things?
We were able to move closer to our families eventually and at that time I once again went back to work full-time. A health crisis with Lullah precipitated another status change. My boss (a woman) told me "you have to decide which is more important, your job with us or Lullah." I decided. After the crisis abated, I was back to work full time until the last two-three years. My schedule and Lullah's has become much fuller and Mike is traveling more. And so I have worked part-time. Next year when she gets a drivers license, that will change. But for now, I can't work full-time and be the kind of mother, wife, daughter, friend and woman I want to be.
I am tired of other women beating me down because I'm a stay at home mom. Not just "feminists" either.
The woman in Wal-Mart (I had considered her a friend) said "it must be nice to not HAVE to work." Among other things. I didn't bother to point out that almost every stick of furniture in my house is second hand, my husband's truck is 7 years old, umm I was in the clothing department of Wal Mart (not Saks). We ain't exactly living a jet set lifestyle.
The family member (an aunt) probably 90% of the time pointedly asks "when are you starting back to school". The implication is that until I am, I'm wasting time and taking up space.
I'm tired of it y'all. Call me crazy but I thought the women's movement was about choice. Individual choice. Guess I was wrong.
Monday, November 28, 2005
The first time I took an anti-depressant (zoloft) was sometime in the early 90's. I wasn't overly impressed with the results. I felt somewhat better, but I couldn't pinpoint that is was actually the medication. When I titrated off of it, I didn't notice it being gone. Of course, back then I was a bit of a mess all the time so how would I have known the difference. I just wasn't as sad as I had been.
The last time I was on medication was about a year ago. My depression seems to do that. It cycles. I'll feel ok for a year or so, then wham! Out of the blue, I don't. The last time I was beginning to have suicidal thoughts before I finally admitted I'd better do something. I'd been off any kind of medication for about 3 years at that point and I just didn't want to go back to a daily regimen again. I take daily medication for a hypothyroid and I have a terrible time remembering to take it, I didn't want to add another pill to forget.
About 2 months ago, I realized I wasn't feeling right. My mood was labile. I don't want to be around people (a sure sign-I love socializing). My insomnia is way worse than usual. All signs that the ship is arriving.
But, I just don't want to take anything. Partly because I'm lazy, partly because... well I just don't. I know it's crazy, but I want to just get better. I want to do it on my own. I want to just be...normal. I HATE taking medicine. Of any kind.
At any rate, I'm trying to decide whether to call the doc and get a new scrip for something. Or wait and hope it passes.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Thanksgiving is a weird holiday for me. My mom never made too much of a thing of it. I can remember seeing TV families celebrating. The dad carving the turkey at the table. Do people actually do that? Ours was always electric knifed and plattered on the table, ready to consume. The TV families always seemed odd to me.
Thanksgiving was of course about the food and being thankful and all that crap. But what Thanksgiving really meant (and means) to me is the day CHRISTMAS STARTS!
Once the dishes were done and put away the real fun began. Down came the ornaments, down came the tree (artificial-real ones are too messy and make me itch like a mofo). This was the official kick off to Christmas at my house. Wheeeeeeeeee!
My Mom decorates for Christmas.
She was Martha-ing up the joint before there was Martha. The women will decorate anything that will hold still long enough. And it is always beautiful.
My Mother's tree is always the most beautiful tree I've ever seen. When we were kids, it was covered in ornaments that we'd made or picked out. It was still gorgeous. My mom was the first person I knew who used clear lights. She was the first person to use solid colored lights. When multicolored lights were back in vogue-she was a year ahead of everyone else.
When she "changes" her tree Mom doesn't go to the local Hobby Lobby and buy a Christmas Tree Kit. She goes everywhere. She will sometimes use some things she already has on hand and add to them. She usually picks up things at different places. Including the grocery store. She never spends outrageous amounts of money either. She says that'd be silly, since she'll want to change everything in a year or two anyway. Gotta love her.
I love my Mom's house at Christmas. We lived in a trailer when I was a kid and I remember thinking that our house was the prettiest one in town at Christmas. It was.
My Mom and step-Dad live in a beautiful log house now. By the time my Mom finishes this year it will look like a magazine. They came over this evening and we had Thanksgiving with them. After the dishes were in the dishwasher, we started on my trees.
Lullah had put her tree up Thanksgiving afternoon (it's extremely pretty and very pink). So we put the one in the living room together and the three tiny trees in my dining room together. We'll finish the decorating tomorrow.
My mom had a stroke one October evening 5 years ago. You would never know it if you saw her on the street today. That Christmas was the only year that she has't completely decorated her house. Lullah and I broke in and put the tree up while she was at physical therapy. But it wasn't the same. I just can't do the things my Mom can do with floral wire, greenery and some balls. Seriously.
So on this and every Thanksgiving one of the things I am thankful for is Christmas.
My Mom is still here to help me get my Martha on and I see sparks of her ability in Lullah every year. I love Thankschristmas.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Probably part of the reason I don't particularly enjoy Thanksgiving.
Mike (the hubby) was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes January 15, 1992.
My birthday. I don't particularly enjoy my birthday anymore either.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
In 1993 I began searching for an alternative method of birth control. I was getting lazy about taking my BCP at the same time every day. I occasionally missed pills. Waiting for my period was stress my broke 22 year old ass didn't need. So, after dismissing Norplant as an option and my MD poo-pooing my questions about IUDs, we settled on a new medication on the market. Depo-Provera. A shot. Every 3 months. That was something I could definitely do.
I LOOOVED Depo. It worked wonderful. I was a little nauseated the first 2 weeks after my initial injection, but that was it. Oh, and joy of all joys-NO period. I didn't have a period. EVER. Yay! I was very pleased with Depo.
I have remained on Depo except for 2 brief intervals. Both were caused by out of state moves. I wanted time to find a good gyno and so I briefly went back on the pill until I could do so.
Last January at my regular yearly lady visit, my gyno informs me that he'd like to take me off of Depo. Apparently it can cause irreversible osteoporosis. I had a bone scan done and things were pretty much ok, but he still wanted me off the shots. And so, once again I became a pill packing mamma.
Y'all I HATE birth control pills. I can't remember to take the damn things. When I do remember, I have to take 2, sometimes 3 at a time. Then of course I'm pukey. I hate the cutesy packaging. I hate the little tinfoil circle thing left after you push them out. I hate them. Hate them. Hate. Them. I just do.
Which brings me to yesterday. After, yet again,tensely waiting on my period to arrive. I was officially in search of a new method of birth control. Hooray.
I called the gyno office asking about a prescription for the BC patches. The nurse was very sweet but apparently, they will kill you. They have an increased incidence of blood clots. She suggested the new NuvaRing (the site has cutesy music, blech).
At this point, I'd try just about anything. I'm sick of waiting with bated breath for my period. I'm sick of the whole pill mess. So, after asking a few questions about it. I said ok. She said they'd call it in for me. ( I of course also checked out what info I could find on the internet)
Trip to the pharmacy to pick up my new NuvaRing. You could feel this semi-hard ring thing through the foil envelope. Weird. Get home, open sesame and there it is. The clear O-ring that caused the Challenger to explode. A clear, baby sized version of those stupid plastic bracelets I wore en masse in 8th grade. A small plastic shower curtain ring. Weird.
Read instructions. I have to say, I especially love the cartoon lady squatting, laying and standing with one leg precariously raised. I chose a cartoon lady to emulate (I won't tell which) and plunged forward. Pun intended. Weird.
So far so good. I was a little queasy within about an hour of placement, but that comes and goes. I figure that will eventually go away. But I'm hopeful. The nurse said I can manipulate my periods with the ring, so that I skip a period if I want. I plan on doing just that. Plus now I can make all sorts of Lord of the Rings references to freak out the H.
This is the thing.
First, I'd love to see the first memo regarding the ring. Did somebody say "hey, a plastic ring! I bet women would TOTALLY put a plastic ring in their vaginas?"
Second, the discussions about color had to be funny. You know some ass suggested pink. "Cuz girls like pink".
Third and this is my main point. Why in the hell did I have be the one to stick ANYTHING anywhere? It's a poor beaten dead horse, I know. But it pisses me off that the responsibility for birth control lands pretty much in my FEMALE lap. Don't get me wrong, the H has suggested and he will probably eventually have a vasectomy. But in the meantime, why do I have to put something in my body that puts me at risk for stroke, heart attack, blood clots and god knows what else?
Why is the only birth control option for men a condom? It ain't right. It just ain't right.
In my opinion when we talk about women's reproductive rights this is an issue we must address. You can't lay the entire responsibility for PREVENTING pregnancy in my lap and then tell me that if I screw up and don't prevent a pregnancy I have no more say in the matter.
I'm pro-choice. For a lot of reasons. The search for new birth control just reminded me of one of the reasons.
I read the post on thatfarmgirls site and couldn't help but think of the changes that Katrina has wrought.
New Orleans and Gulf Port are intertwined in my memories. We would usually go and spend the day in New Orleans while we were on the Gulf (that's what we always called the week we were there, our week on the Gulf).
Like most families, we have vacation traditions.
We've only missed one summer going to the Marine Life Oceanarium. We always went to Haagen dazs at least once. I had Key Lime pie at least once. We'd walk on the beach at night at least once. We bought peanuts to feed the squirrels. We ate fried shrimp until we thought we'd never want shrimp again.
The Oceanarium is destroyed.
The pool you see in the middle left is where Lullah swam with a dolphin. The largest circle was the main dolphin tank. Lullah saw her first baby dolphin there. This was where the sea lion gave her a smooch on the cheek. He didn't survive. He was one of the sea lions you may have seen on the news coverage.
The mall where we ate ice cream is gone. Our favorite place for shrimp po-boys is gone. It's all gone.
Every inch of Beach Boulevard holds some memory for me. I'm just a tourist and my heart breaks everytime I think about it. The people of the Gulf have received such a devastating loss. I cannot imagine their grief.
It's been weeks since Katrina hit. Things will never be the same, but they will be ok. Maybe even better. In the coming year and probably the next few years, the Gulf coast and New Orleans area will need help. Financial, spiritual and emotional. Please don't forget what Katrina left in her wake.
Monday, November 21, 2005
I went to thatfarmgirls blog this evening and found the following and cried:
There's not a working clock in this entire city. This morning I went on my walk and the big clock by St. Patrick's Church on Camp said it was 2:30, as I walked on the Whitney clock said it was 11:15 and by the time I hit the French Quarter a clock there told me quite firmly that it was 6:00 o'clock.I'm not really surprised at this' New Orleans has always had a problem with time. Time is not linear here. This is a city where people live in two-hundred-year old houses, have wireless Internet and use 600-year-old recipes while singing 60's songs to their newborns. Time is more of a mental game in New Orleans, you can pick the year you liked the best and stay in that year for the rest of your life here and no one says a thing. You can talk about your great-great-grandparents as if they were still alive and talk about your neighbors as if they were dead, we all understand.Time marches to its own drunk drummer here. This morning as I walked into the Quarter on Chartres, a woman ran out of a cafe to greet me, "Hey dahlin" she yelled as she hugged me, "Where ya been?" I looked at her and realized it was one of the exotic dancers from the smaller establishments on Chartres. Over the years I'd become friendly with several of the dancers as I would take my morning walk, we'd smile, wave, exchange pleasantries. This morning I realized that even though I had said hello to this woman three times a week for four years, I didn't know her name. I smiled, hugged her back and told her how badly I felt that I never knew her name and she laughed "Dahlin, you know my name, it's Baby!" Time to laugh out loud.Twenty minutes later as I walked up Royal from Esplanade on my way out of the Quarter, a dark sedan stopped in the street right by the Cathedral and all four doors opened at once. I was twittering with curiosity when the driver hopped out, ran to the other side and escorted a smiling Lindy Boggs out of the car. Before I could stop myself I'd yelled out, "Hey Lindy, good to see ya!" Mrs. Boggs, accustomed to such raffish behavior, smiled and yelled out "Hey yourself" as she waved, laughed and headed to church, surely thinking it's time to pray for better manners for the likes of me.We're dealing with a lot of time issues these days, time to meet the insurance specialist, time to call FEMA, time to put out the refrigerator, time to get a new refrigerator, time to decide whether to stay in New Orleans or head elsewhere, time to register the kids for school, time to sell the house, time to buy the house, time to find a job, time to leave a job, time to figure out the rest of your life.Could we maybe, while dealing with all those time issues, take a minute and remember? Remember that there was a time when all of this was different, there was a time when slaves were sold in Napoleon House, a time when Mid City was considered the country, a time when people staged sit ins downtown, a time when there was no McDonalds or Wendy's or even Popeye's, a time when the Quarter burned, a time when people spoke French or Spanish, a time when the Opera House was open, a time when this was all uninhabited, a time when your refrigerator worked, your house was whole, your neighborhood wasn't flooded and your city wasn't defined by a Hurricane.More than any other city in this country, this is a city defined by the quality of the times people have had here. Maybe it's because it's a port city, maybe it's because of the food, maybe it's because of the heat, but this city remembers everyone who has ever lived, loved and laughed here. People visit us because they can feel the difference as soon as they get here, they can feel how time is honored here, in the time to craft our houses and the time to make a roux. They can feel that the city holds all of our memories, our joys, our sorrows and our triumphs. That any time spent in New Orleans is kept in the breath, air, water and sky of New Orleans. What happens in Vegas may stay in Vegas, but what happens in New Orleans changes the city and its people, minute by minute, day by day, year by year so that we can't help but live in the past, present and future.Time will tell what we will end up looking like, how strong the levees will be, how many houses will be repaired, but we will tell time how strong the people of New Orleans are, how deep our commitments to each other are and that sometimes the best stories are the ones we write for ourselves.Once upon a time in a city called New Orleans...
posted by thatfarmgirl at 12:57 PM on Nov 21 2005
This is Lullah's cat, Buttercup. He's one big ball of fluffy love. He really is the sweetest cat we own.
She'd broke her leg in 3rd grade and was home bound for 3 1/2 months. We'd been to the doctor and went by the pet supply to purchase some cat food. At the time we only had one cat, Popsicle, so I fed top grade cat food. (Those days are gone by the way). They had a litter of half persian kittens that were free with a $20 purchase.
One sack of Science Diet and a cat toy later, Buttercup was ours.
He sat in her lap pretty much the entire 3 1/2 months. When she finally had to go back to school he was miserable. He still whines for about a week when school starts after summer. I have to leave her door open, because he will think she's in her room otherwise. It is truly pitiful to see 15 pounds of fluff cry at her bedroom door.
We think he's beautiful, but that's just us.
At any rate, we love him.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Rules are as follows:
Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump everyone up one place; add your blog to the #5 spot.
Here's Your Sign
Select 5 new friends to piss off.
I'll add these later.
What were you doing 10 years ago? Living in Texas. Married with a 5 year old. Hating that she was in school.
What were you doing 1 year ago?
Pretty much the same thing as this year.
Five snacks you enjoy:
1. Cheese 2. Cheese dip 3. Chocolate anything 4. Oreos 5. Cherry tomatoes
Five songs to which you know all the lyrics:
1. Amazing Grace
3. On Jordan's Stormy Banks
4. Crazy-Patsy Cline
5. Santa Baby-Earth Kitt
(this is actually a cheat category for me, I have a weird affinity for lyrics)
Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
1. Pay off my debts.
2. Put away enough so that can go to any school she wants to.
3. Start a college fund for my nephews and niece.
4. Take my Mom and step-Dad and my in-laws on a really cool vacation.
5. Go back to work, 'cause I've spent the million with 1-4.
Five bad habits:
5. Beating my self up
Five things you like doing:
1. Watching Lullah dance
2. Spending time with the hubby and Lullah.
4. Sleeping (I never get enough)
Five things you would never wear again:
1. Jelly shoes
2. Neon socks
3. Parachute pants
4. Those crazy Z-Cavarichi pants that sort of looked like MC Hammer pants.
5. Those sequined, hand painted cotton pant suit things (matching top and pants)
Five favorite toys:
1. My computer
2. My XM radio (I am officially addicted)
3. From childhood- Barbie
4. Childhood- Easy Bake Oven
5. Childhood- Fashion Plates
We met them at the restaurant and ate dinner with them. Chocolate martinis for the grown ups, cheesecake for the girls. Yum. Then we all went to see Harry Potter. Coffee after the movie.
I think they had a good day.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Appointment was at 2:30, we were leaving the office at 4:30. TWO hours later! aaaargh! We went to the SuperTarget (aaaah, life was looking up) and then decided we were starving and wanted mexican. We ended up at the Superior Grill. Yum.
We stopped by the bathroom on our way out. We had to go cups and plates so I waited while Lullah went in. A lovely blonde came down the back steps and walked past me. An older man was walking by at the same time and they obviously knew one another as evidenced by the conversation...
Lovely Blonde: HEEEY!
Older man: Hey girl! Lemme see them new titties!
She pulled her shoulders back at this point and displayed said titties.
Older man: Those look great! How many cc's?
Lovely Blonde gave a number (it was loud, I couldn't hear)
Lovely Blonde: I like them.
Older man: yeah, are they hard or soft?
She pulled her jacket away from the new titties and said
Lovely Blonde: Feel 'em!
Older man: Those are great! Who did 'em?
Lovely Blonde: Dr. ??? in Alexandria.
They waved goodbye, he went to the bathroom and she went on through the bar.
I don't think Emily Post would have approved, but it damn sure made me and the Shreveport cop standing next to me laugh.
I was one of those kids who was constantly told that I wasn't applying myself by the adults in my life. An aunt recently alluded to the fact that my unplanned pregnancy (Lullah) completely ruined my life (her opinion, NOT mine). That particular branch of my family still pushes me to finish college. EVERY visit at some point comes around to the "when are you going to start back to school" conversation. So now I'm one of those adults who feel like I've somehow let the world down by not "being all I'm capable of".
The thing is, what if this is IT? What if this is as good as I can do? What if I am splattered, smooshed against the glass ceiling of my life? What if everyone realizes it? What then?
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Well, I've been puking for two days. That's what I get for calling Lullah, Talullah Pukey Pants. I haven't felt like this in I can't even remember when.
I haven't kept anything solid down since Sunday night. I'm keeping some Sprite down, but that's it.
I feel icky to say the least.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
The community we were in is in south Louisiana near Lake Charles. It was affected by the recent hurricanes. On the drive down, we saw evidence of the destruction wrought on that part of my beloved state. If we had driven further south, we would have been confronted with more destruction.
The stands across the field were filled to capacity. There were fans three deep lining the fence on both sides of the bleachers. It was a sea of purple and gold. Behind them the temporarily repaired roof of their gym could be seen. It looked like aluminum foil.
The bleachers on "our side" were also filled to almost capacity. Not just parents and grandparents either. Or just students. Fans had driven 3 hours to support a team that they love and believe in. Some of these people may have children who graduated from the school, some do not. They just wanted to show their support.
I stood in the bleachers with my hand over my heart. As the band played I thought about Veterans Day. All over the state of Louisiana the same scene was being played out. Cheerleaders were standing with pom poms over their hearts. Dance lines were standing at attention, hands over their hearts. Young men were standing on the sidelines, their helmets in their left hands, their right hands over their hearts.
Those boys on the sidelines are around the age that my grandfather was when he joined the army and was promptly knee deep in World War II. Those boys were around the age that my father-in-law who'd never left the state left for a jungle in a country he wouldn't have been able to find on the globe.
Almost every man in my family has been a member of the armed services.
One of my uncles graduated from West Point. My father volunteered for the Navy. Three uncles served in Korea with the army. One uncle was a marine. Another in the army. My grandfather was in the army.
I watched the wind catch the flag. It unfurled and whipped in the wind as the band played. Each of us there in that stadium were there because of the sacrifice that our veterans have made. Without them we would live in a different world.
That sacrifice continues. We have boys and girls a million miles away. Whether you agree with the war in Iraq or not, they are there.
I would rather they be here with us, at football stadiums, at their homes, anywhere. Just home.
But they aren't and on Veterans day, we should thank them and any veteran you know for the sacrifices they made and continue to make. Sacrifices so that we CAN sit in stadiums, in our homes, anywhere. So tell a veteran thank you.
She threw up once more here at the house. I gave 25mg of Dramamine and we left for the game at 2pm. They let her ride with me instead of the bus in case she got sick on the way. Fortunately she made to the game without throwing up. She waited until we got to the field. So I gave her 25mg more.
After she'd throw up she'd feel way better for about an hour. I wouldn't have let her go, but they weren't dancing after half-time because the band was leaving. I figured if she got to feeling too awful we could leave. She was absolutely determined to dance. "I'm not giving that woman the satisfaction of seeing me not on the field" was the phrase she used. I probably should have made her stay home, but I think it would have been one of those things that twenty years from now she'd STILL be pissed at me for. I just loaded up lots of Dramamine, juice, wet wash clothes and liners for the trash can we took with us. She's sleeping it off today. So far no puke.
I think the sponsor prayed some kind of hex on us. The girl she treated so badly last Friday had to make an early morning trip to the emergency room for abdominal pain. They thought appendix initially, but it was an inflamed colon. She's ok. She ended up dancing too. So if the sponsor (ex-sponsor) did put a hex on us. It didn't work.
We made it home without incident and she threw up once more before bedtime.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Lullah gets in the car and doubles over and starts sobbing. Great, loud, sobs.
During practice one of the girls asked if the windsuits were in. The sponsor said yes, that she had one of the jackets in the car. She went and got it, put it on and modeled it! The girls were excited of course and asked if they were getting them after practice. She said no, that the principal had said they were to be put away until next year because we probably only have one game left. She goes on to say that if THEY had been patient they would have probably gotten them. Lullah (ever tactful) asked how their lack of patience affected the delivery date of the wind suits. The sponsor looked her square in the face and said "if some of the parents hadn't complained to the principal about them not being here yet, y'all would be getting them". "But because y'all can't be patient they are being put away until next year".
This was after she had spent the entire practice according to Lullah "staring us down" while they were dancing.
She MODELED it y'all. She went to the car, got it out. Oh wait, she had to intentionally put it IN the car first. SHE MODELED IT and then told them...oops sorry y'all need to learn to keep your little impatient selves in check. aaaaaaargh!
Oh yeah, I was pissed. The co-sponsor came over to the car to get the "permission slip" for tomorrow signed. I asked her if the sponsor had actually said the mess above. She kinda frowned and said, yeah. The co-sponsor said that the sponsor neglected to tell the girls that 4 of the jackets were on back order so they wouldn't have been able to get them because of THAT.
I called the principal and left a message. I was VERY nice. I just gave a short telling of what she had said and said if he had any questions to call my cell.
After all this I had to go to Sears and buy 2 new tires. $399. I was thrilled.
The principal called me and wanted to know what happened. He was pretty appalled. He said that she does not speak for him. What he had actually said was that since she had not gotten the order in so that the suits could be in sooner that they should hold the suits until next year and the parents could buy them then. He has really been wonderful through all this. I get the distinct impression that he is NOT happy with the way she had conducted herself. After tomorrow, it will be better. His exact words.
Oh, and I've burned two extra copies of the music for tomorrow's dance. So, in case she "loses" the music we're prepared. She didn't have batteries for the radio at a pep rally this year, so I wouldn't put it past her to "lose" the music.
After tomorrow, it will be better. After tomorrow, it will be better. After tomorrow, it will be better. My new mantra.
The worry is this...
She makes the girls "try out" on Thursdays for the dance they are performing Friday night. If they don't know it, they have to sit out. Not usually a problem, except she has behaved exceptionally poorly toward the girls this week. Bear in mind also that noone has had to sit out a dance all year. I am very afraid that she will try to cut some of the girls. I'm not too worried about Lullah because she choreographed and then taught the dance, so she should be okay. Lord, I hope that woman doesn't try to twist the knife one good last time.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
This is what they were speaking of. The Jones Soda Holiday Pack is according to the Target web site....
• Complete turkey dinner, zero calories, zero carbs
• Gift pack of five, 12-fl.-oz. diet sodas
• Turkey and Gravy, Wild Herb Stuffing, Brussels Sprouts, Cranberry and Pumpkin Pie, all in bottles • Yum yum! Just like Mom used to make!
The site goes on....
Tired of the holiday-food hangover? Had enough of the obligatory gluttony? Then it’s time to try the smarter, more intestinally friendly holiday feast. Turkey and Gravy, Wild Herb Stuffing, Brussels Sprouts, Cranberry and Pumpkin Pie—you can have it all! In mouthwatering, savory 12-fl.-oz. diet sodas! While your family’s getting all bloated and uncomfortable, you’ll be sippin’ pretty. Enjoy it any way . . .
All this for JUST $9.99!
Regis was DRINKING this swill. Poor Kelly looked like she was going to throw up. I kept thinking this is surely not real stuff. Well, folks it is. And when we went to Target today (as I always do on Wednesday) they had boxes of it for you purchasing pleasure.
I know I've said it before about other things, but I'm gonna say it again.
EW EW EW EW!
Today was a good day. I was a sack of poo and dozed on the couch until about 11:00. The DSL repairman showed up around 11:30. He FIXED THE DSL! Hooray! Y'all it has been such a huge pain in the ass. It will go down at the most random times. The husband especially likes it when he's online playing Call of Duty. He replaced the outside connections, so that may do the trick. We'll see. If we go one whole day without out it going down, we've had MAJOR improvement.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
The last few days have been the final blow up after a long simmer. It has been...trying. Thank y'all for puttin' y'all's two cents worth in.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Apparently the danceline sponsor is blaming the uniform snafu on one of the team members and Lullah, absolving the captain of any responsibility in the matter. In addition, the captain found Lullah this morning wanting to know if Lullah had choreographed a pep rally dance. (Lullah is teaching the field dance that she choreographed already).
Now, Lullah had choreographed every field dance and pep rally dance except 2. That's out of 13 dances. We had previously went to the sponsor and discussed this issue and were told to let the captain "fall on her face" and for Lullah to NOT take care of anymore dances. A solution I DID NOT approve of at all. I found it pretty heartless.
This morning Lullah went to the sponsor to discuss the above issues and was told that she and the other girl WERE responsible for the uniform snafu because they had said ANYTHING at all about the tops. Further more, that if the captain told Lullah to take care of the dance then she (Lullah) would be required to do so or she would get demerits. And so, I got a phone call from a tearful Lullah.
I went to the school and Lullah told me the above tale. I took her and we went to the office and had a meeting with the Principal and the Assistant Principal. We discussed the above issues, plus a few more. I could tell you everything, but it's be about 6 pages long. Seriously. The least issue being EXTREME disorganization (we miss deadlines, camp clothes aren't ordered etc) to one of the worst being the sponsors outright lying to parents.
TheP and the AP were both extremely concerned and I honestly felt/feel that they are going to address the issues. They asked that I put my concerns in writing, which I have done.
As I was leaving, one of the other moms was waiting in the office. It was the mother of the other girl being blamed for the uniform mess. This girl is frequently singled out by the sponsor as the cause of pretty much anything that goes wrong with the squad.
As Lullah and I left the office, the sponsor was coming out of the teachers' lounge. I stopped her and VERY nicely (no REALLY, I was nice) told her that Lullah couldn't do the pep rally dance. She gave me a horrible look and said "It's not my problem anymore. This is my letter of resignation." And walked off.
The above mom called me after her meeting. Apparently the sponsor barged into the principal's office while the mom was talking to him and handed him the letter and stood there glaring at the mom while he read it.
I think the mom of the girl from my previous post also made a trip to the school today.
The sponsor called the squad to the foyer of the school and informed them of her resignation. She told them that this week things would remain the same, but after Thursday they do not have a sponsor. This is technically not true. The co-sponsor hasn't resigned. She was IMHO trying to make them feel bad. One of the girls asked why she was resigning and she said she couldn't say at this time because it might hurt someone's feelings. (Is this woman 2 years old?)
Y'all I'm at a loss. I truly did not envision this woman resigning. I felt like by taking my concerns to the administration (after I have discussed them with her at different times) that maybe some things would change. I NEVER seen this coming.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Tuesday morning the high school principal arrived to find the square TP'd,a picnic table in the tree in the center of the square and every lock on every door...super glued. He had to climb into a window to get into the school. I am a horrible person, but I secretly laughed. Out loud.
They managed to bully and threaten the student body into coughing up some names and eventually 4 boys came forward and confessed. I suspect that there are more boys involved, but these are the only 4 that will own up to it. The boys' parents are going to pay to replace the locks. Two of the boys were starters on the varsity football team and weren't allowed to play at the game Friday. They will also probably be required to attend alternative school for a looong time, in addition to regular school. So far, I have no objections. Here's the mean part...they (and their parents) were told that the boys could attend the football game, but would be required to sit on the opposing team's side. The administration said that our town didn't want or need them on our side. Two of the boys' mothers told me this. This same administration that last year allowed 4 boys who were arrested for shoplifting and drug possession on a Saturday night to PLAY the following Friday. Apparently "our town" has no problem with this type of activity, but pranks well that's another story. The same administration did nothing when 3 of the basketball girls placed 4 picnic tables on top of the canteen building damaging the roof. Inconsistent, don't you think.
Other meanness. The danceline. One of the danceline members' grandfather died Thursday(the funeral was this afternoon). At the pep rally the sponsor got onto the girl for using a flag that I made her for her birthday during the pep rally. (She also got onto our girls about 3 football games ago for cheering the team on, but I digress). The girl and her mom decided that she would dance at last night's game anyway. The mom thought it would be a good destraction and it was the last scheduled game. The mom checked the girl out at lunch to go to the funeral home and be with her family. The danceline captain decided to change the uniform that afternoon. She, nor the sponsor called the girl to let her know. She showed up in the wrong top. They live about 25 minutes from the school and had come straight from the funeral home. The sponsor jumped all over the child. Accused her of having an attitude and gave her a demerit. Nice, huh. The mom tried to talk to the sponsor and got yelled at and a finger shook in her face. This exchange occurred next to my car. I'm sure my jaw was in my lap. This same sponsor refused to allow two members to go to tutoring last week. I was present for that conversation as well.
Now the weirdness, I was reprimanded for NOT signing the permission slip I have previously ranted about. This remprimand came after I made the comment (AS I was signing the damned thing) that it was "the most on crack thing I've seen in awhile". I was a little sarcastic, but still I'm pretty sure that I'm not 6 anymore. Seriously, reprimanded. Told EXACTLY why it was necessary, ad nauseum.
And the football team got the crap kicked out of them. Friday night sucked.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Here it is:
I _________,parent/guardian of____________ do desire for my child to ride home from _________________________(list activity and location, i.e. foot ball game at Caldwell Parish) on_______________(date) with me. I acknowledge that because the (our) Parish School Board will not be providing this transportation, they have no control over the person providing transportation. I hereby release the (our) Parish School Board from any and all
liability associated with the transportation of my child for this trip and do agree to hold the (our )Parish School Board harmless from and and all claims associated with this trip.
Y'all read it right. I have to give my daughter permission to ride home with ME!
Now, if I don't sign this are they going to prevent her from getting in my car? Are they going to physically prevent her from riding with me?
Seriously, I think it's messed up.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
The Hemor~Rite Cryotherapy Device is just the world needed. Do I put this next to the ice-cubes or the ice cream?
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
I've been thinking about it though. I loooove Halloween. I always have. My mom can not stand it. Hates it. For no reason, she just does. She isn't overly religious so that's not why. She just doesn't like it, at all.
On the way home Saturday we drove through a small town near our even smaller town. There were about 6 people holding signs on the side of the road. The signs included...Fall Festivals are a compromise to Satan and my personal favorite Jesus Vomits Lukewarm Christians (how's that for a visual). I can understand people not wanting to participate in Halloween. If it's not your thing, then don't. What I don't understand is the interest in the last few years on whole heartedly bashing those of us who enjoy it.
A number of the churches here are vehemently against Halloween. It encourages a curiosity in witchcraft etc. Now, y'all, there ain't exactly a burgeoning coven that I'm aware of here in town. I could be wrong though. I understand that Halloween tends to bring out the idiot in some people (like the kids that superglued the locks at the high school last night). But some of my most vivid memories are Halloween related. I was the best Wonder Women EVER! AND the best Princess Barbie EVER. Thank you very much.
The lady who made popcorn balls and candied apples was always our first stop. (did everyone have that lady in their town?) She put them on her pool table and would let you pick your own. Y'all I've been to the Guggenheim and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I've seen sunsets and rainbows. I've seen new born babies and new brides. I have seen the fall leaves in all their glory. Y'all get the point. But I have yet to see anything as beautiful as that lady's pool table on Halloween. She turned out the room lights and left the light over the pool table on. Those treats were illuminated from above. Almost, I dare say, a heavenly light.
Halloween will never be about evil to me. It will always be princesses and Wonder Woman. Witches yes, but extremely cute and sweet ones. Or sexy as I've gotten older. Halloween will always be that excitement I felt when we turned up the drive of the pool table house. Snickers bars, peanut butter cups, Halloween carnivals and cake walks. That's Halloween.
Monday, October 31, 2005
We got home about an hour and a half ago from a Halloween costume dance. Lullah and former best friend who is now best friend again went as Paris and Nicole. Yes, Hilton and Richie. Yeah, I was thrilled. Luckily the costumes consisted of a denim mini, cowboy hat, western style shirt and cowboy boots. Oh and a beanie baby dog. It could have been worse.
The dance was for high school girl scouts and their dates and jr. high girls and their dates. The membership exec was hoping to recruit some jr. girl scouts. Their are no girls at the jr. high signed up for a troop. Alas, I think our efforts won't be successful. Their were about 6 girls from the jr high there. One was dressed like a "slutty angel". The others weren't in costume, thank god.
Lullah and her friends had a good time. They danced for 2 hours straight.
Not a bad way to spend Halloween if you ask me.
Friday, October 28, 2005
I have spent the last two day, in my pjs. Yesterday I didn't get dressed until 2:30, that's about what I'm shooting for today. I may wait until after I pick up Lullah. We have football game tonight so I will have to beautify for that, so I may just postpone the getting dressed.
Have I mentioned that I also LOATHE house work. I would love to be one of those women that find it therapeutic to clean. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy the after effects of cleaning. That pine oil smell and non-dusty glass sparkle is pretty! I just don't want to be the one to get it to that point.
Ok, I'm going to clean the bathroom. But I'm doing it in my pjs. So there!
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Dad calls this morning. He said he had been taking over the counter Tylenol since last week, 650 mg every 4 hours. Around the clock. Oh, my tale gets better.
Now, I had SPECIFICALLY told him last week at the football game DO NOT DRINK ALCOHOL when you take tylenol. Twice, at least. He told me today that his knee is getting a little better. I asked if he had been drinking while he was taking the tylenol.
"No," says he.
"Well make sure you don't, it's dangerous" says I.
"Ok, I've just had a beer before bed that's all" says he.
"Um, Dad that's drinking"
"Well, it's just a couple of beers before bed" he explained.
*Note that the amount has increased
"Dad, you can't drink and take tylenol. Alcohol is excreted through your liver, so is TYLENOL!"I explained.
"Well, three or four beers won't hurt will it?"he asked.
*Once again, note that our amount has increased.
Now at this point I should let you know these bits of information.
1)My father graduated with honors from college.
(sooo, he isn't stupid!)
2)He once owned a liquor store.
(sooo, he know what alcohol IS)
3)He drinks approximately 3-4 Evan Williams and 7up cocktails per night prior to bed. This after going to the local bar and drinking beer(I'm guessing probably 3-6) every afternoon.
(So I guess 3 beers IS a major slow down in consumption.)
I did manage to not beat my head against the wall. I only hope that he ACTUALLY listened to me and doesn't continue to drink and take the damn tylenol. The man's poor liver has been abused enough. The conversation was actually a little longer than my retelling of it, but I honestly don't think he'll listen to me. I also had to explain that acetaminophen and tylenol are the SAME medication. I only HOPE that he hasn't been double dosing himself. Yikes!
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
I'm bringing this up because of a conversation Lullah and I had this evening over supper. We were discussing having babies(see my rant about teenage pregnancy). She stated, rather firmly I thought,that she plans to adopt. When I questioned her a little further, she in a round about way alluded that the main reason is she's afraid of what it would do to her blood sugars. And that if she couldn't maintain control what it would do to a baby. She's 15. She's already worrying about shit like that. She worries about dialysis, amputation, blindness. Damn.
About 2 years ago, we were talking and she said that she went to bed every night afraid that she wouldn't wake up. She said she was afraid she would die. At that time, we were having trouble with her blood sugars getting very low during the night. I would check them every one-two hours most nights. She has had 2 hypoglycemic seizures and the husband has had 1. Thankfully, it has been a while since they've had them.
My kid was aware of her mortality at age 13, probably younger. She figured out pretty early that life isn't fair. I worry about what that has done to her psyche. She seems ok, and we are one of those disgusting families that "talk about" everything. But still, I worry.
One of the things that is particularly sucky for Lullah (her word) is that she absolutely must be aware of EVERY bite of food that she puts in her mouth and her friends eat like crazy.
One of her best friends eats Little Debbies(PLURAL) like there is no tomorrow. That kid eats crap, it's kinda amazing. Lullah not only is careful about what she eats, she gets a pretty good amount of exercise too. She dances at least an hour per day. Most days much more. Still she battles her blood sugars AND her weight. Her blood sugars are not within the range that we (she, her MD, me and the husband) would like to see them. And the MD has stated that she doesn't need to gain another pound. It really does seem like a war sometimes.
What do you say that will make her feel better? I don't think there is anything that will.
*Life isn't fair.
*God doesn't put more on us than we can carry.
*What doesn't kill us will make us stronger.
*There are so many things that are much worse.
*There are so many people dealing with things that are much worse.
*You are brave and fabulous and adversity builds character.
Yeah, we've said all of that. And more.
And so, we just trudge on.
Monday, October 24, 2005
The dance line participated at a drug-free rally this morning at the high school. The drama club put on a skit, the cheer leaders led a drug free cheer. Drugs are bad, m'kay? That was the message.
I can't help but wonder if the organizers of said events truly believe that they are preventing drug use among teens. Maybe I'm just cynical.
The drug use in our small town is astounding. Meth has hit like a bomb. The thing is, it's adults too. The parents of the teens the rally is aimed at are users, makers, suppliers of drugs. Is a silly cheer or skit going to change perception? Is a kick ass dance going to cause someone to drop the crack pipe? I don't think so.
What do you offer a generation of kids who are more aware of the incongruence of the universe at 16 than I was last year? How do we tell them that drugs will kill them when they live life half dead already?
Lullah is for all accounts and purposes the ideal kid. She has a 4.0 GPA, she's number 1 in her class, she's co-captain of the dance line, she's got tons of friends, she's in numerous clubs. She's a girl scout for pete's sake. She's a parents dream. But, she told me the other day that she's depressed and sad a lot of the time. I see it in her friends too. They are mostly honor roll kids, parents married, no major behavioral problems. If the kids who look like they have it together are feeling depressed, how are the kids that are visibly falling apart feeling? How hopeless are they? Somehow I don't think a anti-drug rally is going to alter the course of those kids' lives.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
After Sonic, I took Lullah and 3 of her friends to see Elizabethtown. I WILL be purchasing the soundtrack. It was a really good movie. Orlando loses his american accent a couple of times, but other than that I enjoyed it. Of course, I'm in love with Orlando so he could remake The Omega Code (which BTW is one of the WORST movies I have EVER seen) and I'd go see it.
We got home around 1:30am, so I am now in desperated need of a nap. I'm not going to get to take one, I have gumbo simmering and I can't take a chance that it will scorch. Maybe after gumbo.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Lullah has been sick since Saturday. It started Friday night after the football game. She complained that her throat hurt. Since the game was AWESOME (26-27 WE WON) I just thought it was from yelling. She's progressively gotten worse. I took her to the doc today and he thinks she may have mono. GREAT! He doesn't want her dancing at the pep rally or football game tomorrow until all the lab work is in. Do you have any idea how well that fat lady pole vaulted?
Lullah immediately burst into tears. She just mutely sat there crying. Great big fat silent tears. Slowly sliding down her cheeks. It's the last home game. It's a dance she choreographed. To mine and her favorite song (September-Earth Wind & Fire)(actually a medley-Let's Groove Tonight, September and Shining Star). It's the dance she's been saving all season.
Damn damn damn damn.
I don't know what I'm going to do. Do I do an ostrich and just hope that she doesn't have mono and let her dance?
Oh and he dropped this lovely nugget-if the mono test is positive she's homebound for 21 days. To a 15 year old that may as well be 21 months. She'd miss the rest of football season, over a month of dance class. She has social stuff going on pretty much every weekend of October and the first of November. Once again damn damn damn!
Thursday, October 20, 2005
There are 3 girls pregnant at her high school of 250ish students. They are of course a topic of much discussion. That's what she was pissed about.
Prior to practice the dance line members were visiting and topic A was the pregnant girls. Apparently they got ripped on by the girls. The general feel was that they (the preggies) should be ashamed, how embarrassed the dance line girls would be if they were in their position, etc. This is a touchy subject for Lullah (and me). I was almost 5 months pregnant when the husband and I got married.
I've always been honest about it with Lullah. She knows how hard it was. She knows that I've been the topic of conversations that probably went very much like the one she sat in for this afternoon. One of the things she said was that it pissed her off that no one was gossiping about the fathers of said babies. No one said they should be ashamed or embarrassed.
I wish I had easy answers for her.
In a perfect world those girls wouldn't be pregnant. It would be slutty for boys to sleep around-not just boys being boys. In a perfect world girls wouldn't revel in one another's misfortune. In a perfect world people wouldn't revel in one another's misfortune.
All I can tell her is this. Sometimes the road we intended to travel is detoured. What we do on that detour is up to us.
When my turn comes around, what will my service be like? Will anyone want to come? Will they come out of some sense of obligation? God I hope not. What will people say? I hope they don't say I look good. Will people say to one another on the street-"did you hear? Kim died. Isn't it sad?" Or will they say "who? I can't place her."
The truth is I hope they miss me. A lot. I don't want to be replaceable. I want the world to be sad when I'm no longer in it. I know that sounds selfish. But it's the truth.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Since, I've been thinking about friends I thought I'd tell you a little about some of my closest friends.
Lullah is actually one of my best friends. I know it's corny. But she's one of the funniest and smartest folks I know. She has a unique perspective of the world. She is one of the most forgiving and kind people I know. When I grow up, I want to be more like her.
Karen-lives in Alabama, way too far away. She is one of the strongest people I have ever met. Also is beautiful(she thinks she's ugly). She endured a divorce after a 6 week marriage. A few years later she faced her mother's death from pancreatic cancer, a gigantic relationship breakup, her father's attempted suicide, she began nurse anesthesia school, had a liver cancer scare (they removed a lobe of her liver) and her father's remarriage all in ONE year. She was a tower of strength and grace. She's absolutely amazing. Did I mention that she's gorgeous to boot?
My mother in law- I love her! She is absolutely the most grounded person I have EVER met. She is my moral compass. When I'm unsure of what to do in any situation I think of what she would do. She is North.
My mom-as crazy as she drives me at times. She really is my friend. I can tell her anything. She has the best shoulders to cry on, lean on and hug on.
So in this season where I seem to be losing friends to the great beyond, I plan on telling these ladies how I feel. I also plan on telling the friends that I haven't mentioned. I've been blessed with so many people in my life. I feel like I have to let them know how much they mean to me. I encourage you to do the same.
Each of the women in this picture are special in their own way. Their day jobs include a teacher, a nurse (moi), an accountant, a scrub tech, an account manager, a stay-at-home mom and a decorative painter. Their are 5 divorces, 7 children between us all. One of the women has been arrested for DWI, two have children with chronic diseases, at least two have had/have an eating disorder, some are in serious debt, one has attempted suicide (moi), we all have issues with our parents, one is a step mom(a good one!). I could go on, but you get the picture. We are a hot buttered MESS at times. But, we love each other. Maybe in spite of all the mess.
I laugh harder with this group of women that I do any other time. They know some of my deepest thoughts and fears and vice versa. We have hurt each other in ways no one else could and we have healed each other. I'm so glad they are my friends. When I count my blessings and name them one by one-their names are on the list. Leah, Ashley, Christy, Misty, Tammy, Andrea. My hot buttered friends.
Monday, October 17, 2005
She had a hysterectomy two weeks ago. The surgeon perforated her bowels during surgery and she became septic. She now is in full blown ARDS. It's a respiratory syndrome that has about a 30-70% survival rate. The fact that she developed it after sepsis makes her chances of survival slimmer. She was an ICU nurse for about 15 years. Her husband has been an ICU nurse for about 10 years. Karen said she was alert when they decided to intubate her. She gave everyone a list of things she wanted them to do after she was gone. She knew what she was facing. I can't imagine how scared she must have been.
If you believe in a higher power, please ask for his/her/their/its intervention. For peace, for healing, for a miracle. If you don't believe, then just send good thoughts and wishes their way.
I'm tired of going to funerals.
Friday, October 14, 2005
When we lived in Alabama the nearest Target was 3 hours away. I know it was inhumane. When we would come home, I would make a pilgrimage to the Target near where we live now (a mere 50 minute drive). My Alabama friends didn't understand.
About 2 years ago my best friend who still lives in Alabama called. She'd been to Target. They finally opened one. She's now a full fledged cult member. Welcome sister.
My cerebral fluid is leaking out of my ears after the day I've had. The assistant principal informed the sponsor after last weeks pep rally that the girls looked "awful" and if they weren't going to put any more effort into their performances then they didn't need to dance. Well, considering that Lullah choreographed said routine, I thought I handled this bit of info rather gracefully. I bit my tongue. Until today.
I went to the school. I was honestly hoping he'd been misquoted. He hadn't been. He said that they looked like they had thrown the dance together the day before. Y'all I was at the pep rally. I taped it. I think we saw two different dances. I agree, not one of their best performances, but awful and thrown together- our paths diverge there. He said he expected perfection and excellence. Period. Hmm?
There are two girls on the squad that have NEVER had any dance instruction of any kind. There are only 2 girls who are currently in any kind of dance class (Lullah is one of them). You'd think they'd kind of stink, but they don't. Now I don't think many of them are going to be Rockettes anytime soon, but they really do look good.
In addition-some of the students have booed them (also the cheerleaders and band) at every pep rally prior to them performing. School spirit ain't exactly high on everyone's list apparently.
The conversation went something like this.
Me- the fact that they get out there at all after that, much less perform well is amazing. Do you give the football team the same "if you aren't going to put 100% effort out" after they lose ? *I also mentioned the skill level of some of the girls, they are honestly doing their best*
Him- "no, they have 11 other guys pounding them"
Me-the girls have a people booing them.
Um, yeah. It is, it's meaner and pretty damn cruel. And the staff hasn't done anything to stop it.
Me- I would think that y'all would applaud the effort the girls put into the dance line. All of them are honor roll students, most do some sort of volunteer stuff. This is how they choose to spend their extra time. Not making loops in town, smoking pot, and staying drunk. *which BTW a lot of the kids here do* They practice 2 1/2 hours M-Th. They learn 2 new dances each week. ALL of which except 3 (out of 12) Lullah has gotten music for and choreographed. (while maintaining a 4.0)
Him-well I'll talk to them.
Y'all the conversation went on like this for about 15 minutes.
So I also needed to talk to the sponsor about Lullah having to do all of the dances. The actual Captain has taught 1 dance. One some of them had already learned at camp. The other two-one was a camp dance (Lullah taught that one) the other was one that they had choreographed by a local dance teacher for a competition dance at camp. She was up until midnight Tuesday finishing the pep rally dance for this week.
It just didn't go well either. Her solution was for LULLAH to refuse to do the dance and let the other girl fall on her face. Not to discuss it with the girl herself. Lullah was there and said, "but I'm afraid we'll look bad". The sponsor said "well maybe then she'd take it more seriously" I also wanted tell her that I'd talked to the assistant principal. I was frustrated, but at least we'd talked about it so I felt a little better.
Well I pick Lullah up this afternoon. She's PISSED! He talked to them alright. Told them if they weren't going to put their hearts into it 100% then HE wouldn't let them dance AT ALL. That they were responsible for school spirit. (umm, cheerleaders??) They should have been embarrassed Friday. WWHHHAAAT?!!!
I don't even know what to do at this point. Lullah said "he's just a stupid little fat man wearing suspenders" I'm inclined to agree.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Here's my beef. The day charge nurse on that floor ALWAYS changes the assignments when she gets there. This means the staff coming on are waiting around to see which patient they are assigned and the staff leaving is waiting to see who is getting their patients so they can give report. In addition there are about three nurses that are at least 5-to 10 minutes late 99% of the time. Some days it's more like 20 or 30. Clock in times are 0638-0708 in the am. Anything after is considered tardy. Apparently they are clocking in at some time clock located in an alternate universe. It totally pisses me off.
I have an hour commute (if traffic is favorable). I left the hospital at 7:20. Got home at 8:30. Traffic wasn't favorable. I've been up since yesterday morning. I'm fried.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
There were probably 300 people at the funeral. The pastor said that over 1000 had came by the funeral home for visitation. I told y'all that she was sweet. Once you were her friend-that was it. The population of my town hovers between 2500 and 3000. That's a pretty awesome percentage of people.
The pastor mentioned how she was about people. She was almost forgiving to a fault . She treated people better than a lot of them treated her. She was the person who befriended people who the rest of us probably wouldn't want people to know we even knew! She wasn't perfect. She smoked and drank on occasion(which to baptists is a big deal). She'd been divorced. But the overwhelming truth about her was that she was a good and kind person. The world would be a better place if more of us were like Mary.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
We didn't become "best friends". As a matter of fact, she ended up being on those friends you sometimes hang out with, then end up hardly ever hanging with.
We've been out of school for over 10 years now. I've lived in three states besides Louisiana since graduation. It didn't matter, when she saw me she always said Hello and asked about the husband, Lullah, my parents. The thing is, she actually cared about the answers. Every time. She'd had a lot go on since school too. Married, two daughters, a divorce, in school, out of school, gained weight,lost weight. Her parents house burned down. Life threw her some pretty big curves.
She was killed early Saturday morning. The truck she was riding in ran off the road. She was thrown from the vehicle and later died at the local hospital. The guy driving was drunk. He left the scene before anyone got there. She was left there alone. I hope she didn't know she was alone.
I keep thinking that I'm never going to just run into Mary again. We're never going to laugh about the things the other has heard about former classmated. We're never going to laugh over the trials and tribulations of raising girls. I'll go to her funeral tomorrow and then I'll never see her again. She was 34. She was a mom. She had a quick laugh. She was one of the nicest people I will ever know. And she's gone.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
I know it's extremely cliched, but I can't stand him sometimes. He drives me absolutely NUTS.
I'm an only child. My parents have been divorced since I was 11. They separated when I was 8or 9.
Lullah is my father's only grandchild. She will most likely always be his only grandchild as I am done with the child bearing. We live about 20 minutes from his house. August was the last time he came to my house. If I want to see him I have to go there. It doesn't matter if I invite him or not, he's not coming. We've been living here 6years and he's been to my house alone maybe twice. He'll only come if it's an entire family thing. (Preferably just his branch of my family) He thinks my husbands family look down on him and that they're rednecks. He will only come to Lullah's birthday parties if my aunt comes with him. He says my mother and step-father hate him. (Not true BTW)
I called him last night to invite him to the football game Friday night. We have two home games left and Lullah dances at them both. He didn't come to any of the games last year. Bear in mind that my husband's parents come to every home game ( they do leave after halftime) and the my mother comes to every home game (the step comes to almost every home game). And my mom makes it to a few away games. My dad always has a reason for not coming.
At the last home game last year he had said he was coming. He didn't. Lullah came up to the stands after half-time to say hello to the adults. I whispered to her that Papa didn't make it. She looked at me funny and said "oh, I didn't think he really would anyway. You did?" She doesn't even expect him at things anymore. How sad is that?
So, now to the reason for my rant. He just called me and he has a runny nose and diarrhea. It just hit him suddenly. Why can't he just say-I ain't coming? Then he changes the subject and starts talking about this time he took me to a fancy restaurant when I was 8. About how sweet it was, how the waitresses fawned over me. I remember going, I remember him having a come apart because I licked the butter knife. I didn't mention that to him though. THEN HE GETS PISSED BECAUSE I DON'T REMEMBER. He starts trying to make me feel guilt because it was such a wonderful night etc.
Now you know some of the reason my father makes my butthole hurt.