And again...

Kiddo has had an on again, off again relationship with ear infections.

I thought we had broken up with them forever and ever...

But alas, like a crazy old Ex that won't just find a hole and crawl in it, Ear Infection #25 found him today.

I'll take a five year old with a double ear infection over the screaming hot mess of an infant that he used to be.

Nothing will make a mother's heart drop quite like seeing the name of the Preschool flash up on the cell phone.

Husband was available to manage the pick up, bring to the doctor (where I work haha) and wrestle in the waiting room.

But my Mommy Proud moment came when I got to bring my own child back to the room and check him in.

I am biased, but he was by far, the best patient of the day. 

I explained I wasn't Mommy right now, I was Dr B's Assistant.  He did so well.  Explained how his ears felt, talked like the Big Kid that he is becoming, and overall was just awesome.

After it was all over, I gave him two suckers.

Not many kids get two suckers.

Noah

I am not the most religious person on the planet.

I question God.  I question the whole notion of a 'supreme being'.  I question them all.  Hindu, Jewish, Christian, etc.

I was raised Methodist.  I am more than happy to experience various religions and find their traditions fascinating.  I bow my head along with everyone else.  I'm not a screaming Atheist that doesn't want people to pray...ever.  I have no problem with it.  What they feel is what they feel.  What I feel is what I feel.  I respect their feelings and find the experiences educational and spiritual in my own way.

But I've never felt religion deeply.  I accept them all for face value and keep happily plugging along.

But Kiddo has started asking about God.

I mean, the child goes to a Church Preschool. He's starting to wonder who this 'God is Great' guy is all about.

The Husband and I have not been big on going to Church.  We just haven't.  Lots of excuses.  I won't list them.

So I picked up some Bible story books for Kiddo's age at the Library. 

After last week's events in Connecticut, I figured it was about time to try a little soul searching.

So we read the story of Noah last night....

I thought he'd be more interested in the animals all on the Ark.

Not so much...he was more interested in the rainbow at the end.

But when I read the paragraph "God watched them, these people who would continue the world.  Humans are not perfect, God thought.  There is an evil corner in their hearts. Perhaps they will learn goodness one day.  In the meantime, I made them, and must accept them as they are".

Oh wow. 

And it was not lost on me that they buried little Noah yesterday.  In Connecticut. 

But my heart has healed a little.  Just a crack.  Just a smidge. 

A tiny bit.

Trying

I'm trying.
Really I am.
I'm trying to not look at my five year old and cry.
I want to kneel down in front of each and every child that comes into our practice and hug them.
I want to pat the top of all their beautiful little heads.
The little girl with glasses and missing teeth today was the most beautiful child ever.  Her smile was just stunning.
And I had to turn and pretend to send a fax as my eyes filled with tears.
I can't talk about this at work.  I can't talk at home.
I am attending my son's 'Sing Along' program tomorrow and I know I'll cry at some point.  Hoping to make it to the car afterwards before I let it loose.
Because there are twenty parents in Connecticut that won't get to do that. 
Instead they are burying their children.
That's just so wrong. 
So very very wrong.

Grief

I heard about the Connecticut shooting at work.
I heard three people were dead.  Oh ok...another co worker shot up fellow coworkers.  Domestic issues gone wrong.
I was so very wrong. Very very wrong.
In this town in Connecticut, there are 20 sets of parents of first graders that are having to deal with Christmas presents, empty rooms, dirty laundry, and the loss of their child.
How do you go on?
I've cried myself stupid.
For my own sanity, I have not read a report, nor watched the news since Friday.  I cannot get on Facebook either.
I want to curl into a ball and sob my eyes out for parents that I don't even KNOW.  The grief is so striking...so painful.  I feel like I've been kicked.  I feel sad.  Sad isn't a good word.  I'm just hurt...
My Kiddo is five.  What the fuck would I do?  How would I go on?  How do you keep breathing?  How do you keep moving?  How do you not just die yourself?
I couldn't.
I've been to a toddlers funeral.  I still grieve for that child, and it's been seven years.  She was not mine.  I was not a mother at the time of her death.  But I still grieve.  Her parents have pushed through and are just wonderful people with very full lives for their children.  But I cannot for the life of me imagine having to push through.
I can't imagine the fear and terror these children experienced in that chaos...I cannot imagine their pain and confusion.
I just can't.
I flash to the face of my own child and the thoughts of what I would do.  I keep putting myself there.
My heart aches.  It just hurts so bad.  I want to get in the car and drive there and hug someone and say I am sorry.  So very very very sorry.
As I hug my fiesty child that has no idea this horrible evil ever happened.
My five year old.
With his presents from Santa waiting in the closet. 
And his dirty laundry strung everywhere.
And I am grateful that my child is safe and well, and happy. 
But those poor parents...those poor families...it hurts so badly. 
That town will never be the same.  How do you heal from that?  How do you ?
I have no answers.  Just grief for these parents.  The hopes that the news story will change. 
But it won't. 
And these kids are gone.
And the Christmas trees are lit.

A Tale of Two Turkeys

Ahhhh...the Tradition of running all over three states for the Thanksgiving Holiday had to be given up this year.

With Great New Job, comes the fact that I had to work on Friday after Thanksgiving.

So , no travelling.

My parents, both being sick, didn't come in.

My inlaws...well....nevermind.

So it was going to be a Dinner for Three.

I voted to go out to dinner.

The Husband voted to order dinner.

Kiddo wanted to 'do it right Mom'.

Which meant Biggest Turkey Ever, corn, rolls, carrots, and pies.

Here's the kicker...Kiddo has NEVER eaten the Traditional Meal.  Ever.

Last year, I had to stop at Waffle House in North Carolina and feed him.  He literally had not eaten for three days because he refused all the Traditional stuff.

I knew in my heart he wasn't going to go for this...but maybe, just maybe if we took him shopping he would be into it.

Off to the grocery store we go...armed with coupons and savings.

Kiddo promptly picked out a 22 lb turkey.

Yes, TWENTY TWO POUNDS.

No amount of convincing or talking would get him to give up on The Biggest Turkey Ever.

So we put Big Bird in the cart, and trolled around for the rest of the fixings.

The Husband and I kept eye balling each other sidewise, and like the team that we are, without saying a word, he picked up Kiddo as we were nearing the end of the store to take him to the salad bar to get a 'snack'. 

Wink Wink  Nudge Nudge.

I hoofed it back to the Freezer section as fast as I could fly.  I dodged down the aisle when I heard his voice pipe up.

I hoisted Big Bird out of the cart and flopped him back into the bin.

I mashed my pinky finger in the process.

I frantically rooted for the Smallest Turkey Ever. 

I settled for a 12 lb'r.

I raced back to the check out.

I informed the clerk to ring the Bird up first and stuff it quickly into the canvas shopping bag.

NOW!  Here they come!

Operation Turkey Switch was a success.

Kiddo talks about eating the turkey leg...the big slices of the turkey...and all the fixins.

Thanksgiving Day dawns...the Bird is being prepped for the oven. 

Kiddo admires my handiwork...watches it all day...ohhhhs and ahhhhs when I take it out of the oven.

I'm so proud to lay the thick slices on his plate with the pretty sides I've labored over all morning.

We say Grace...three times.  Three different ways. 

And Kiddo proceeds to ....

EAT.  NONE. OF. IT.

He had corn, carrots and a roll.

*Sigh* 

Next year, we are hitting Golden Corral.

Pain

Today I established as a New Patient with the Awesome Doctor I work for. 

It was odd to say the least...to be the patient.

I did most of my paperwork early on...had my prescriptions loaded in, along with getting information from the specialists I have seen over the years.

Awesome Doctor reviewed them as they came in...my Breast Biopsy and Breast Cyst Saga...my Cervical Stenosis from Hell...the Allergy Testing I had done last year...and my round with Shingles this spring.

It was interesting to read up on the different ailments and their outcomes. 

I did realize something...I'm really pretty luck.  I'm not suffering from High Blood Pressure, or Diabetes.   I'm overweight, but I am no obese.

Most of my problems are pain and joint related...in some form or fashion.

And as we chatted, I realized I am in Pain such a large amount of time that I don't remember what it is like to NOT hurt.

I have Fibromyalgia as my base pain.  So in other words, I hurt all over pretty much all of the stinking time.  I was not diagnosed until 1999, and even then I had a hard time getting a doctor to listen to me.  I was in such misery, and sure I was dying from some unknown tropical disease.  I had one physician tell me to just 'get over it'. Yeah, sure.  Let me get right on that.  I tried anti depressants...and pain medications.  They didn't work very well for me at all.  I had to finally figure out that it wasn't going to kill me...and I had to learn to cope.  And cope I have.

Then you add in herniated C-5, 6 and 7 in my neck.  Turn the wrong way too fast folks, and I am DONE.  As my Neuro put in his notes "stuck in the neutral position".  I remember that well...I wanted to throw up from the pain, but I don't think I could have bent my head to do so.  I still live in fear of that moment again...I won't even get on a roller coaster...ever again.

Now I have come kind of weird pain in my left knee and ankle.  They hurt.  Not every day...but mainly when I am ovulating.  Excruciating!  I know!  Go freaking figure!  She flexed my foot and pushed on it...then my toes turned blue.  I know! (again!) Weird. 

Honestly, I was just hoping my feet didn't stink and my stubble on my legs weren't showing too badly.

All in all it was a good visit.  I'm glad I did the establishment.  It was good to kind of spell it out all for someone so that they have the full story in front of them.

So I now have in hand some lab work paperwork, and xray orders.  Gonna see what this next round of joint pain is all about.

I'd love a massage right now.

Twizzler Snitch

I love Halloween.

I adoooore Halloween.

I absolutely love the fact that Halloween is so much fun, and such a guilt free Holiday.  As I have stated before, no one gives you grief over spending too much time at the in laws on Halloween, or eating their Special Halloween Dinner and not Theirs.

Kiddo has such a good time.  He plans it out well in advance...say March.

This year was no different. 

This year we are allowed to dress up at work.  Some employees go all out, some are simple.  My Doctor (whom I love) and I are trying to coordinate.  Contemplating my costume was a task within itself.  I needed something that didn't show my bosom or ass.  So that took out most costumes on the market now.

Then I needed something I could work in.  So that takes out another huge portion of available costumes. 

I'm irritated. 

Till The Husband points out my red scrubs...and a pair of devil horns.

THIS is the reason I keep him around folks.

My Doctor agrees to small angel wings and a little blinking Halo. 

I think I may have offended a patient or two...and was called a 'horny devil' in Target by a guy that I am not sure if he was or was no in costume.  I think he just looked like a scary pervert on a daily basis.

Trick or Treat time at the house!  Rush home...throw some hot dogs in...run Kiddo to the Neighbor Who Hates Halloween's House so she can dump an entire bag of fun size M&M's in his bucket...then lock up her house and leave for a few hours...

And the Trick or Treaters began.

First set...at 6pm...Batgirl...SuperMario and a teenager dressed as a prostitute (I think it was a witch...but I am not sure) and Mom.

I give them goodies...the little girl exclaims over my Twizzlers...awwwww she's cute!  So I hand her more.

An hour later, we have a lull, I'll take Kiddo to a few houses.

Hit another neighbor, round the corner...hit another neighbor...

Then we get to The House.

At The House...the Prostitute Witch is in the car in the driveway putting makeup on her boyfriend.

I walk past...to their well lit porch with well lit decorations and pumpkins.

Kiddo rings their doorbell.

And it is answered by The Mom...who then proclaims to my five year old child..."Oh, I'm sorry sweetie...we aren't giving out candy!"

To which I replied... "Your light is on".

"It's on a sensor...I need to shut it off"

"Yeah, you do...you're going to get your doorbell rung all night...come on Kiddo"

We turn to go, and I see Batgirl standing in the doorway...eating a Twizzler.

Kiddo busts out with 'She got that at our house!'

My loud reply was thus "Some people just have no manners baby...they take from you but won't reach into their own bucket to give any back.  Have a good night!"

Some people just need their house toilet papered.