Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Monday, January 29, 2007

Logic is a very broad term.

It makes sense to me?

When my second daughter was about two, we were out and about in our yard in Western Washington. I was doing something with the flower beds, weeding I think, when I noticed her hunched over something. I called out to her, and of course she ignored me, so I walked over to see what she was doing.
Stuffing some funky Western Washington mushroom in her mouth.
Growing up in Utah = No funky mushroom experiences (that I will admit to.)
I panicked, dug every bit of funky mushroom I could see out her mouth. Then I took a hearty bite and called poison control.

When my oldest daughter was about six, I caught her eating some berries off a bush while we were out hiking. She started gagging because they were so bitter. So I ate a few, hurriedly hiked home and called poison control.

My, ahem/cough, logic was, that if it was something harmful, I would be able to more accurately describe, know and understand what was causing the problem and it's affects, or if was sympathy induced.

Shut up.

Today, I gave my son an herbal supplement (Gotu Kola) that my MIL sent that supposedly helps with brain function (whatever, she is obsessed with labeling him with some sort of dis-function that she feels like she can fix, because Apraxia doesn't have an easy answer). Safe, herbal, MIL sponsored? OK, I'll play, but still take a drink first.

I sipped it, and it wasn't too bad mixed with OJ, and gave the rest to my kiddo.

Ten minutes later, my face, lips, mouth, tongue, throat, were itching. 15 minutes later, my throat and eyelids started swelling shut.

I took some Benadryl, my husband stood at the door contemplating driving to work or driving me to the ER.

Son was completely fine, in his room, engaged in an argument with his brother about dragon vs. Tiger.

The Benadryl worked, the swelling went down and I can breathe, but I'm still pretty itchy and have resorted to a topical benadryl solution.

I've always been allergic to cats, and recently had some nut allergy issues.

I did a google on Gotu Kola, and it doesn't contain cat balls, so I am at a loss? :o)



Doors.

I've been working a lot of hours lately, and not getting home until the late hours of the night/morning. Because that's what happens when administration pisses off the per diem employees by posting their jobs. On the verge of state citations for being critically under staffed. I wonder when they will notice the lack of people waiting in line to work for lousy pay and poopy (literally) conditions.

I stumble home from work, walk in the door and smell what my family had for dinner.
I go to the bathroom and see a tub full of dinosaurs, hot wheels, legos and other seven year old boy tub toys.
I head to my boys room, to kiss their faces, smell their heads and to tuck the blankets they've kicked off, and stare at them too see how much they've changed in 12 hours.
I go downstairs to my younger daughters room, and see her latest art project, turn off her radio and her lamp, kiss, tuck, and ponder the outfit she has chosen for school, because, DAMN the girl may be color blind.
I have to sneak into my oldest daughters room, because she is at the age, where tucking and such, are like so not necessary MOM, this is my private space, MOM. Plug in her cell phone which is desperately dead and beeping from hours of supposed sleep time text messaging.
I walk into the kitchen to see the dishes washed, the leftovers in the fridge and a plate with my name on it.
I don't have to go anywhere in the house to hear my husband snoring. He has really been super-dad lately. He's stepped up with the cooking/laundry/homework etc.
And I love them. And I miss them.

I walk in the door at work AGAIN (I should really just rent a room) and wonder who is still with us, and if so, what condition they are in.
I try not to have favorites anymore, because (it took a lot of learning) it hurts too much. But this is me we're talking about. My favorite old man is declining. He's about 5 foot on a good day, when not hunched over, with a 46 inch waist. Freaking Teddy Bear. He has an unique last name (Italian?) and delights in me pronouncing it correctly. I went into his room tonight to wake him for dinner, which is unusual. He's usually the first one out, and NOT one to miss a meal. :o) I called his name, then called his name and stopped breathing to see if I could hear him breathing. I started to get concerned. I walked over and shook his big toe, and he woke with a start. I said "anonymous old fart, you must have really been snoozing!", he said, "I was dreaming about playing a basketball game!", I asked "who won?" and he replied, "I don't know, I didn't get to the end!" He is generally in great health, but has these unexplainable whack-A-Doo episodes. They've done MRI's CAT scans and tested for infections. No TIA's, no UTI's, nothing wrong with the dude he just goes off the planet for awhile. We had to take away his motorized cart because of his episodes. He was running into walls, eloping in 10 degree weather and almost ran over another resident....But lost eleven pounds from all the walking! :o)
He was given 30 days notice. I know when he walks into that new door, he will give up. Because he told me so. I said I would visit him. He said, don't bother. :o(

I'm starting school again at the end of March (YAY! Yay?). Now that my husband is working night shift, I can take classes during the day and still be home with my critters at night. I'm taking it slower this time, not such a full credit load. I feel like I failed somehow last time, even with an awesome GPA, just by quitting. This is a scary heavy door to open for me...Again.

My younger brother is moving out of the country, and has chosen a car for my oldest daughter. The dudes a mechanic, he is constantly buying, fixing and selling cars. BTW, if anyone is in the market for some sweet vintage restored VW's busses, let me know. :o)
He chose this car as the perfect teenage driver starter car. It is an ancient diesel Mercedes. He has fixed everything that could be fixed, and a few things that he just did because he loves her and is awesome.
He proudly tells me that it takes about 10 minutes to accelerate to 30 miles an hour :o) and is a tank, so if she hits anything or anything hits her, she won't be the one to sustain the damage.
It has been almost as hard for him to deal with her growing up, and going to drivers ed as it has been for me. They've always been more like siblings, because he was so young when she was born (13), and was her favorite babysitter.
She doesn't know about the car yet, he's waiting until the car is perfect and an exact date when he will lovingly drive it from Utah to Washington for her.
Probably the last time we will see him for an unknown time.
That door opening, and closing, will be a tough one, for all of us.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Time in a bottle.

Seriously? You're going to cry at that? And again?

I've been so weepy all day, for no reason.
Not that time of the month, or that other time of the month.
Just an extra bonus fun "cry for no reason" day!
Par-arr-Tay!

  • Saw my name on a friends blog=cry. (For the record, I don't have Pheeb's HTML Skeelz, or all ya'lls names would be there, even the chronic deleters)
  • Walk past a picture of my Grandfather that has been hanging there since I bought the house, oh I dunno, seven years ago=cry.
  • Look at my sons HUGE chicklet front tooth that is growing in=cry (if they all come in that size we may have to order a larger mouth. Possible new nickname: Fang or Thumper)
  • Get into an argument with "THE TEEN WITH MUCH NEEDS BUT VERY LITTLE BRAINS" about something stupid she did, thus spending the rest of the night in her room sulking=cry.
  • Empty bed. Husband working night shift=cry.

I've been really missing my siblings, and my Grandma lately.

I think that is a large part of my emotionalmessiness, and of course the recent holidays didn't help.

All of my siblings except one moved out of state two years ago.

My younger sister and spouse just totaled their Outback on some icy roads in Utah. They're mostly fine, but it's hard to hug with 1000 miles in the way (worry worry worry). Although, 1000 miles should seem manageable, when she has spent most of the last ten years in Brazil/Guatemala/Israel/Bolivia/India etc...etc...etc... AT&T loved us. She is married to a Brazilian, and being a newlywed is much harder than Hallmark would like us to think, especially with cultural gaps.

My younger brother just put his house, car and everything else up for sale. He's moving his fam from Utah, to Australia with an awesome job opportunity. I looked, and it's only 11 cents a minute to call. We usually spend and hour or so on the phone every Sunday, but hey, I'll just learn to talk faster, if they'll stop my niece and nephew from growing up without me.

My older sister is a first year teacher in Utah, and is in charge of the Spanish immersion program at her school. Her husband just opened a new business. Lot's of stress, and I worry. I talk to her the most, usually right when her class gets out every day. We relate to each other very well. She has a set of twins too, and helped me survive my twins first years. We save each other mucho buckos in therapy because we have each other. She is my prozac. We don't "relate to each other very well" we.just.get.it. She is TBM. I am agnostic/atheist, and it has never been an issue, because that is just how much we rock.

My oldest sister is the only sibling that lives in the same state as me. We live a 1/2 hour apart, but don't see each other often because of her crazy work schedules. She is an RN with four, yes I said FOUR, jobs. She is my children's second mother. We have lived together off and on since I was sixteen. If someone wanted dirt on me, she would be the one to call, fortunately she wouldn't tell, cause I gots the dirts too. :o) She is Lesbo and her spouse, an RN too, is (insert inadequate awesome word here) is the closest thing to a sister I have without the DNA.

My Grandma. Gawd I love her, and miss her terribly. She turned 80 in August and still has a head full of thick brown hair, lives on her own and is the rock of the family. Say the word and she will cook up a storm and be the party. Her cauliflower soup is the only vegetable product my husband has every eaten. I've been dreaming about her and my (deceased) Grandpa, nightly for two+ weeks. In my dreams, I am back at their house in Idaho. THE happiest memories of my childhood. I walk through every room and commit it to memory. I rarely remember my dreams, but these stick with me, and I have a strange desire to sit down and draw a floor plan of that house? Every resident I deal with at work, gets extra time/love/patience, because I can't spend it with her.

Pass the tissues?

Friday, January 12, 2007

Bed Buddies

My husband started working the night shift last week.
I loathe it in every way possible.
It's been rough on all of us.


One of the unexpected trials is that, after 10+ years of someone next to you in bed, it's hard to sleep without them....and I have a difficult time sleeping anyways.


Soooo, I did the logical thing and recruited a new sleeping partner.

This is his favorite position:


He is almost as hairy and snores just as loud as my husband.
Well, ya gotta do what ya gotta do eh?
Praise Buddha for Frontline.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Fucking 07

I don't do the New Years Resolutions thing, because I feel like you have to really be ready and committed for changes to be successful.
Plus, I'm usually imbibing, because of the socially acceptable method of inviting the new year.

Alcohol+Goals=poo.
BUT, this time of year is always stressful for me, and this time, it is making me frantically push the pause button.
My husbands birthday was on the 28th of December (OhMyFreakingHeckI'mMarriedToA35YearOld!) and my oldest daughter turns 15 on January 3rd.
Life.
It's fast.

I'm feeling it.
I have a daughter who is going to take Drivers Ed spring quarter.
I have a husband who is halfway to forty.
If that's not enough to wake one from a daily stupor, I don't know what is. Gah.
So here it is:

  • Too personal to even share with my brain barfing community.
  • Ditto
  • Find a way to form some sort of relationship with my "mother".

I know, I know.

Believe me I know, shut up already.

I haven't talked to her in three + years, after our latest falling out, where I had to evict her, yadda yadda yadda...

The "mother" is toxically septic on her best of days.

But I feel (and ya'll know where I work, and what I have put up with her) that I have the responsibility to MYSELF to come to some sort of piece of peace while I can. With much pressure from my siblings.

I came to a realization recently, that I don't hold my Father to the same accountability as my "mother". I generally have a good relationship with him.

He was there, he could have stopped/fixed/changed things, but didn't. Why is he off the hook?

Maybe he wasn't the one who beat me with a stick, and ripped my clothes off because I wouldn't change my school shoes, but he watched it and didn't stop it.

I'm the Mom now, and realize that I also make mistakes, and hope that my children will be able to forgive me for all of my past and future bungles.

I'm not her, I would NEVER do the things to my children that she did to me, and I'm not dismissing all her chronic denials and disingenuous acts*.

But, if calling her, a couple times of year, will ease MY guilt/pain when the final transition comes. I might be able to do that...With earplugs and valium (possibly tequila shots).

*Ahh, The ever slippery slope: I don't talk bad about my "mother" to my children, because she is their Grandmother, BUT, my daughters have seen it first hand. I have to teach them compassion BUT at the same time, instill a sense of worth and show them how not to allow people to treat them.