Money pit?

When we bought this house 6 years ago, we were surprised when the owners told us the lock on the back door "never worked right."

We accepted it. Fixed it about a year later (after finding said door standing WIDE open after a long day at work/school).

We found monsters sized cracks in the laundry room, our bedroom, and bathroom approximately a year after we moved in. Not a big deal, all houses settle. 

Should probably have wondered about the electricity when Ironman was out of town & I got "locked in" the garage. The van was in the garage, with about 8" clearance between the top of the van & the garage ceiling. Every time I pressed the button to open the garage door, the electricity shorted, blew a breaker, and we lost power to open the door. The emergency release was above the van. I couldn't get around the front or back of the van at all, so couldn't pull the release, so was essentially home bound until either the fault fixed itself (likely? Right...) or Ironman returned from his weeklong trip. 

Fond out it was due to a short in an EXTENSION CORD run outside to power some lights in the deck. Rated indoor only. Short was caused by melting snow. 

Two years ago we started pulling down the deck due to overly high pergola height. It was so high we never were able to get any sun protection. And the center post? Supporting the entire weight of the structure? Unanchored. Resting on the floor of the deck. Not even toenailed. And we had a porch swing hanging from this. Should we mention the two "outdoor rated" electrical ceiling fans we pulled down? Rusted through the housings. Hanging in open air (no roof over them). Yep, some high quality engineering went into the hanging of these.  

So today, Ironman decided to pull down the rails on the deck. Big old sledge, some frustration, and voila! The rails are down. 

Unfortunately...when he removed one of the rails, the top of a support post came off, revealing it had previously been repaired. He checked a little further and found that almost all of the posts are wet. Or at least damp. That's ok, it's been a pretty wet spring, and its on the north side of the house. Right? Or maybe, if you dig a little around the post, he finds the post is BURIED in the ground, not anchored in cement, and others are likely the same. 

Sigh. 

Updates to follow. 

On the upside? We got the raised bed garden done in about two hours on Saturday!

 

40 Days

40 days without social media.

40 days without games.

I don't know how this is going to go for me. I'm guessing it will be 40 days of opportunity.

Chances to pray for those I normally "play against". Chances to be more closely in tune with my family. Opportunities to play catch up on housework, homework, exercise, writing?

Who knows? These 40 days could be...exactly what He intended.

Sad

I've been working in my current department for nearly 2 years. I've been doing my current job for more than a year. I've been officially titled an "administrative assistant" for nearly 5 years, still at the same desk, doing none of the same work as when I was hired.

So today my manager came to me and told me I've been promoted. To the job I'm currently doing. To the position I currently hold.

Effective Monday, I'll be paid for doing the job I've been doing for over a year. I've worked my fingers & eyes out, compiled data, worked spreadsheets like there's an end of the world depending on it, sorted data, created forms, run queries, done things in databases I never knew was possible.

I've been praying for this. Praying that God would help the people in charge realize my value. Praying we'd be better able to make ends meet. Praying A LOT.

So now it's official. I'm so relieved all I want to do is sleep. And I've no one to tell.

It's just...sad.


Suz

Twinsight

While in the car the other day, I overheard the chix talking. It was oddly enlightening.

"it's not like you're my twin."

"yeah, I know"

"it's like you're my best friend. Who makes me really mad. And just won't go away."


I'm not sure if I should be concerned, but it did make me laugh.

I am pregnant...hear me whimper

Oh good Lord, NO! I am NOT pregnant.

But I was at the time.

I was home on maternity leave - bed rest - restricted activity - whatever you want to call it. This was thirteen years ago and my chicklets were still a twinkle in my eye and a large lump in my abdomen.

I needed to get out of the house. The doctor had advised I go to the Y and swim. After trying it just once, I was hooked. These little boogers put so much strain on my bod, the effect of being pseudo-weightless even while completely and mortifyingly LARGE in the torso? Hea. Ven. Ly. Heavenly. Absolutely pure, inexplicable heaven.

Who cared that I got to know all of the lifeguards by name (due to the number of contractions I'd have while halfway through the deep end of the pool). Who cared that I'd swim the slooooooowest laps in the world (because of course, this was only allowed during lap swim, and I wasn't allowed to float, I had to SWIM)! Who cared that I'd stay in the water until the last possible second and then HEAVE myself out of the water to blunder to the bathroom to relieve my increasingly stressed bladder. Not me.

The Y saved my sanity.

Except...this one time...

I grabbed my gear. Grabbed my purse. Grabbed my swimsuit. Grabbed my towel. Grabbed everything!

Except the keys.

8.5 months pregnant with twins. And I'm locked out of my house.

Of course, this is pre-commonly-accessible-mobile-phone days, so I didn't have a phone. Or a key. I couldn't leave the house, because I didn't have a car key. But I couldn't get in the house, either.

So I scanned the house. I knew the gates were locked. The little crappers in the neighborhood opened the gates and let our dogs loose if we left the the gates unlocked. But I checked anyway. And I was right. They were locked. Safe and snug were my doggies - behind the gates - inside the house - locked up tight. Yep, I was thorough. Thoroughly stuck. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't get over the ding-dang fence.

So...went to the guest room window (we lived in a ranch-style-house at the time). Locked.

Went to the chix soon-to-be-bedroom window. Locked.

Went to the living room window. Locked.

Like I could heave myself up into an open window? Even if the window was open, the lower ledge was boob-height. This monstrous belly sticking out in front of me? Leaving me with less than one-inch of lap? How freaking ridiculous was I?!?

Apparently not ridiculous enough.

After being outside - in a coat because it's April after all - in Indiana - where snow is still a possibility in May - for roughly TWO HOURS and seeing no neighbors I know (or want to know?) I decided to hoof it down to a house where I see activity. Oh yeah, I got to tell my sob story to someone I don't even know.
This was NOT the lovely water I had imagined, remembered, longed for. Definitely not.

Turns out, after explaining my freakingly fantastic story to the person who answered the door, they don't live there. They're "watching" the house for their friend while their friend's windows are being installed. And then I got to explain the whole goofball story AGAIN to this random neighbor, whom I've never met, over the phone. And they graciously (grudgingly?) gave me permission to use their phone.

So I called my two neighbors who lived on either side of me. Only one had a key to my house. But neither was home (which I already knew). And of course, since I didn't carry a planner (hello, maternity leave? bed rest? 1998? thanks, glad you're still with me!), I didn't know how else to contact them.

I called my husband on HIS mobile phone. But he was working "in the field" so didn't know or even hear that I called.

Poop. Back to waiting on my front steps for Ironman to hopefully show up...sometime before dark?

Wait wait wait. Bored bored bored.

Except, about 30 minutes later, one of the workers from the pseudo-neighbor's house came down. I felt a little weird. Here's me and my monstro-pregnant belly, hanging out on my front steps because I have nowhere else to go, and here's this strange guy walking down the street.

::gulp::

He said he'd heard my whole situation and wanted to see if he could help me.

::gulp:: Oh screw it.

Cue Hallelujah Chorus!

errrrrr, well, maybe.

I explained the window thing - yep, I was paranoid enough to have locked ALL of my windows in my house. And the gates. And yes, the front door. But...there was a chance I'd forgotten to lock the back door. The one that leads out into the padlocked back yard. Where I couldn't get my pregnant belly. Because I couldn't climb the fence. Because I was uber-pregnant. With twins.

So random pseudo-stranger offered to check.

And then he hopped the fence. Easy as pie. (and yes, I could do it now - because I'm no longer monstro-the-whale)

Pseudo Stranger: "Um, ma'am?"

Me: "Yes?"

PS: "Um, your windows are locked back here. Do you want me to check your door?"

Me: "Yes, PLEASE!" (because at this point, though I had used the bathroom at pseudo-neighbor's house, I was desperate, people! I reallllllly needed to use it AGAIN)

PS: "Um, ma'am?"

Me: wriggling nervously, trying not to wet my pants "Yes?"

PS: walks around the corner of the house to the gate and says, "Um, ma'am, the back door is unlocked. What do you want me to do?"

Me: "oh my gosh, just walk in. Just walk in. When you walk in, you'll be in the laundry room. Turn left and the front door will be straight ahead of you!"

PS: "Are you sure?"

Me: attempting to hold onto my dignity "Yes, whatever you need to do, just please, thank you, please go straight through."

And he did.



And THAT is how I didn't escape to the Y. Because after all of that, the chicklets and I needed a bathroom. And a nap.

you have to imagine this being said by a friend who has a lilting Bengali accent

Me:

I have a headache.

Co-worker:

Aren't you glad?

Me, completely confused:

Wha...?

Co-worker:

You should be glad you have a headache. It makes you aware you have a head!

Good grief, this woman can make me laugh.

Mommy, my stomach hurts...

Thus began my morning.

Well, technically it began a few hours earlier. The chicklets had a track meet this morning, so I had awakened them at 5 (a.m.) so they could swallow some breakfast. They each had a banana and promptly went back to sleep.

When awakened at 7:15, Yell came into my room whining about her stomach. I was washing my face and questioning her about her symptoms at the same time.

"what do you mean it hurts? Like heartburn? Like you need to go to the bathroom? Like you..."

Yell, "buuuurp"

Stunned silence.

Yell, "Oh, that feels much better. Never mind."



I think she gets her manners from Homer Simpson.

Stuff

I received a letter indicating the tuition rate at my kids' school will go up by approximately $50/month next year. Coincidentally it was the same day as our mandatory parents’ meeting. I’ve been trying to compose this letter since then.

Dear School Principal,

To say I’m disgusted by what is expected of next year is an understatement.
I respect that you intend for the students to perform service hours to ‘earn’ their class t-shirt. I respect that they will need to earn the right to wear them on Fridays. My kids are probably not the norm. They will each have completed ten hours of service within the first two days of their summer vacation. What I do not understand, comprehend, condone, or encourage is the acquiring of ‘things’ for our students.

I’m likely in the minority. I’ve always been frugal so we can afford our children’s wants as well as their needs. This will likely shock you, but I’ll tell you anyway. For all of my children’s back-to-school supplies (including shoes & clothing), the cost for July 2010 was $99. It was done very carefully, watching sales, using coupons, buying “pre-worn” items, and with several gifts from current 8th graders.

But that doesn’t resolve my feelings about what is expected for our soon-to-be eight graders.

A class shirt. Estimated cost $25 each. As is typical for our family, we purchase 5 shirts (one per day) each year for each child. Because these are unique to this class, the cost to my household is $125 for one child.
A sweatshirt. Estimated cost $30. $155. For two children (yes, there are two families with two kids in the class) the total is now $310.

A yard sign. Estimated cost $10. $165. For two, $330. For use one day of the year. To announce what the rest of the school already knows – these kids are graduating. Yes, the children are given the option to take the sign home and display it in their yard. As a safety issue, this concerns me. Do I really want everyone on the street to know my now-graduated-from-8th-grade-child has gifts, money, spare time, and will likely be home alone?

A DVD. Estimated cost $10. $175. For two, $350. With pictures of my child on it that I supply. I’m supposed to pay to buy a DVD of photos I already know I have?

And the big class trip. Estimated at $150 per child. $325. For two, $650. And we haven’t purchased shoes, pants/shorts, socks, jackets, gym uniform, dodge ball, or the various track/cross country/volleyball/football/basketball/kickball/soccer/sports t-shirts and equipment. I know I can scratch off the class sweatshirt, the DVD, and the sign, but that saves a $50 from the total. Not a significant savings.

I know (and understand why) my 8th grader will ‘want’ everything the other kids have. I realize there is an opportunity for them to participate in, not one, not two, but THIRTEEN or FOURTEEN fundraisers. What is that teaching my child? Yes, hard work = earning your trip. But also, “your trip can be better than the one the class had last year" if you earn the money to pay for it. I’m also teaching them to sell “stuff” to people in our neighborhood who are already facing reduced incomes due to high gas prices, higher costs at the grocery store, higher taxes, more responsibilities, bigger burdens. And can you imagine what it does to the families with two children? Oh yippy skippy! TWENTY-SIX to TWENTY-EIGHT fundraisers! I assure you, those parents are not thrilled.

Yes, graduating from eighth grade is a ‘bigger deal’ from a parochial school than it is from middle school. Perhaps only because most of these children have been in the same class for the past 9 years. Perhaps because they’re all looking forward to attending high school with the same set of kids. Perhaps they should consider scaling back on their final year of school. Perhaps consider inviting the kids from a "less fortunate" school to participate in their class trip to a park for a picnic – perhaps our privileged youth should share their blessings?

People don’t need more STUFF in their lives.

I’m ready to wash my hands of the whole year and move the kid to public school.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

I'm posting this as part of Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.  Though I may have to write the dream prompt as well.  I have a doozy that inspires me to no end of activity.




My oh-so-thoughtful sis coerced us into collaborating on a Mother's Day present for my mom.  It's perfect.  It doesn't require dusting.  It doesn't require watering or maintenance.  It won't cause her to gain weight.  It won't be thrown away or cause unnecessary pollution.  But it might make her cry.

---

On Mom and Sewing

2010

I remember coming downstairs to find mom hunched over the kitchen counter, the light above her work turned on. She was working on some flannel. It was white, with little purple flowers. She painstakingly inserted pieces of metal through the fabric and then grabbed a hammer. She pounded on the fabric, trying to get the snaps to adhere. When she cried because her wrist hurt, I felt bad and went back to bed. I hoped Dad would help her. Those jammies were that much more special to me, because despite her fatigue, Mom made me jammies.  –Suz

Pajamas. Love. –T

Mom bringing out the big white board with blue dots on it and laying it across the dining room table. The sound of scissors running across that board as they were cutting fabric for Mom's next project. Learning how to read a pattern and cut the right size. Making shorts for myself. Learning to use Aunt Alma's sewing machine alongside Mom: "Does your sewing machine have a zigzag stitch?" –Kake

The white glass egg for fixing socks and her focused on that sock-wrapped egg with needle in hand and tongue sticking out. –Nacho

The Chicklets - wearing 2 of
Grammy's creations

Mom is sewing my socks. Why is mom sewing my socks? –B

My memories with Grammy:

Sewing skirts for my dolls
Teaching me to crochet
Using the sewing machine with her
Dressing the dolls with the clothes we made –Crab

I remember that one time Grammy was helping us make clothes for our dolls and I remember that after we were done I was playing with my doll, I sat down then yelled "OUCH!!!!!", I had sat down on a needle. I also remember the time that she helped me make a hanky for my mom for a special occasion. And the last thing that I remember is the time she helped me make a cape for my Roggy and I put half of the buttons on the wrong side!! I still have that cape and my Roggy is still wearing it. –Yell

life simplified

Today was another track meet.

I was incredibly proud of Crab. She's been practicing for track for a little over 2 months & has gained confidence. She started playing around on the hurdles DURING the last track meet & had her coach put her into competition today. She came in THIRD!!!

Yell was disgusted with herself. Apparently she wasn't pacing herself properly and came in ONE SECOND behind her previous one mile time.

Ahem.

One second.

I realize that's a lot of time when you're looking at racing times. I realize it's significant when you're looking at her total time.

But people - one second. It's not a MONSTER FREAKING DEAL.

But apparently it was. And is. To her. She was meaner than all get out for the rest of the day.

Rawr. With teeth. And claws. And sharp fingernails.


So our comedic moment came while I was dealing with entering the kids' times. I was nominated by my husband to do data entry. I have a weird habit of typing things in the most efficient way possible. So while 'bored' at work, I taught myself to enter 10-key.

Yup. I'm an idiot.

Our spreadsheet had some errors in it. I don't know how it happened. Since I know 10-key, I kind of watch myself as I enter the info. So I just glanced at the screen and saw that a 4th grade girl had just run in a 7/8 grade event.

Um, what?

Checked the list of participants, called the kid to the score table, verified their info, gave them a new number, continued down the list of entries.

And it happened again. Called kid to the score table, verified their info, gave them a new number, continued down the list.

And then it happened AGAIN. But as I was looking down the list of runners, I noticed that I wasn't getting everyone who had run during the past three meets.

Call in "Mr. Baker". Scott is the guy who created our spreadsheet. But "Mr. Baker" is the guy who is a techno-geek who I know is nearby. Scott is at yonder pit with kids hurling large metal balls into the air while competing for distance. I'm staying away from that guy.

I yelled, "Hey, Yell, Crab, whoever you are (I know, it's weird, sometimes I can't tell my non-identical twins apart), go get Mr. Baker!"

The kid turns around (it was Yell), and says, "WHO?!?"

"Mr. Baker - he's out by the scoring stuff. I need him right away."

"WHO?"

"Mr. Baker....that kid's dad!" and pointed to a little guy who was wearing a fireman's jacket/raincoat.

"Oh. You mean Cooper's dad?"

---------------------

Later, a mom came up to the table and asked if anyone has seen Yellybird.

I said, "yes, but she's asleep in her car."

The mom says, 'Oh, well has anyone seen her dad?'

I said, "Well, yes, but he left for a business trip."

The mom then said, "Oh, you're Yelly's mom?"

"That's me."

"Oh. Hi Yelly's mom. I have her earrings!"

---------------------

So there you have it.

Life has been simplified. We are our children's parents. That is all.

this is getting good

Two weekends ago, I was lucky enough to have my niece and nephew for the weekend. My sister and her husband are preparing for a new arrival (yay, another little cuddler!) as well as trying to move into a new/old house! Tra la tra la, Nieceling has the sniffles. Not a big deal. The last THREE TIMES she's spent the night at my house, Nieceling has had a cold/cough/germs-in-general.

Or so we thought.

Sunday night, after returning Nieceling & Scooby to their loving mother's van, I felt bad. I went to bed early, but attributed it to having had less-than-adequate sleep. What? You're used to a toddler sleeping until 7am? I'm not! I enjoy sleeping 'late' on weekends when I have the opportunity!

Anyway. What was I thinking...? Oh. Crab felt tired, too, so she laid down with me. On Monday she went to school & I went to work. Yell went to school. Ironman went to work. Crab went to her volleyball practice. Yell went to her swim practice. But by the end of the evening, Crab & I were both under the weather.

To make this long story short, we found out seven days later (Sunday afternoon) (four days ago) that we each had a sinus infection.

Oh. And my sister's daughter? She had a sinus infection.

What's this? You wonder about the rest of her family? Scooby had a fever for one day. But Helmet, dad of the two little darlings, felt bad last Tuesday night, felt worse the next morning, went to the doctor...and tested positive for H1N1!

No kidding - H1N1 a year after the big old swine flu scare. Way to buck a trend, Helmie!

Worse news? My sis has a raging cold the following Tuesday.

Worst news ever? She tested positive for H1N1 yesterday.

Not kidding. My nine-month-pregnant sister, due any minute (actually, due Sunday), has the swine flu. If she delivers before Tuesday, she won't be able to hold her own baby!?!!

This isn't sounding comical at all. Hang on. It gets funny.

While at the after-hours clinic with Crab, at the checkout area, Crab noticed a sign about 'labs, blood draws, pap smears' etc not being billed with the doctor visit.

She asked,

What's a pap smear?

me,

Uh, not something you want me to explain right now.

Crab,

Mom, come on, just tell me! What's a pap smear?

me,

Uh, well, it involves a woman laying on a table...

Crab,

Mom, that's enough, I don't need to hear anymore, Mom, STOP!!!

End of discussion.

Or so I thought.

Today, while attempting to cheer up my sister, I tell her that I was sincerely looking forward to coming to take care of her in the morning. I was planning to make two soups, put them in the fridge for warmup later, do some laundry, coddle & pamper her as much as I could.

Except she's nine months pregnant. And she'll need to get out of bed every 20 minutes to go to the bathroom. We started laughing & I said it could only get better if I had a bed pan to offer.

Kake says,

Oh, wait, a catheter would be awesome!

Believe me, when you're nine months pregnant they start to sound good. Especially if any movement you make causes you to start coughing. Which could potentially start a leak. Are you getting the idea?

Anyway, Crab was listening.

What's a catheter?

me,

Crab, not now, honey, I'll explain it later.

Kake & I continue our chatting. All of the sudden we hear,

OH MY GOSH! That's GROSS!

Kake and I are both laughing & find out that she's googled the meaning of catheter. Then Crab stifles a small scream and yells that she's also looked up pap smear!

Ahhhh, the wonders of the Internet age. I know I knew zero about pap smears until I went to my first OB/GYN visit!

Anyway, Crab was stalling about going to bed, I was stalling about doing dishes, and Kake was trying to say goodbye so she could go to bed and get some rest for herself and the wriggler. I told Crab to say goodbye. Kake said:

Hey Crab.

Crab,

what?

Kake,

pap smear

And Crab was...


gone.





This parenting thing is getting good.

Wish I could send this to the personnel serving overseas!

I've had it!

Or I should say, I think my phone has had it.

Stupid phone.

I had a clamshell-type for more than 3 years and put up with its battery cover falling off on a regular basis. It worked fine. I could text with one hand, had speed dials set up for easy-to-remember numbers, had certain ring tones for specific people, different ring tones for people I didn't necessarily want to interrupt a good read to talk to, an excellent ring tone for my family, and probably the best feature - ring + vibrate together!!!

I sacrificed it all for a Blackberry.

The initial purchase was simple, it arrived by mail, I activated it, and got a blue screen of death. For 2 days, roughly 6 phone calls.

I could answer & talk for a few seconds & then zippo. Zilch. Nada.

And it was promptly replaced (with another refurb) by my ever so helpful carrier. Whew! Or at least a temporary reprieve.

That was nearly 18 months ago and all is not well in the Blackberry department. The phone 'hangs' when the phone rings. I'll answer it, and can hear nothing, but the caller can hear me, yet the screen never indicates its been answered! Or I'll go to a website to read someone's blog and have it 'hang' while reading a script on the page. Or it 'hangs' when I open an email. Or read a tweet. Or delete a phone record. And when I say it 'hangs', I mean it gets the nice little rotating hourglass...for seconds, minutes, it could be HOURS at a time! But if I'm not LOOKING at the phone, or it's gone to its 'inactive' screen I have no idea that it's hanging on the hourglass...draining my battery...nixing my ability to receive any email...any phone calls from my precious Chicklets...any texts from my oh-so-romantic Ironman...

And did I mention that I've gone from one 'hard reset' per day, to 3 per day, to 3 before noon!

I've been counting down the months since...um...June? I need this phone to last until Dec 8. Then I can upgrade without commitment.

Help me, people!

I need recommendations on AT&T compatible mobile devices. iPhone, droid, blackberry, tell me what you like. What you hate. Give me the latest & greatest perks & peeves.

I need email access...and text...and phone...and I might perish without Twitter & Facebook, so take those into consideration too, kay? And did I mention I have a budget? The cheaper the better.

Thanks.



Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

This is what happens when you tell your kids you have a road trip in the morning

You come downstairs to find a treat bag on the stove next to your purse.

And not just any old treat bag.   

A treat put in a 'special' bag from a certain store that a certain chicklet LOVES.

When you recover from your shock, you look a little closer at the tag on the treat bag.

And then you flip it over to find...

Awwwwwwww.

Isn't she sweet?

The kid has some spelling issues.  But she's assured herself of 1st place in your head (and in your heart) for the day.


At least, that's what happened at my house.

Public Television (or what not to watch when you may have phobias)

I should preface this little confession by admitting I have a few fears. I'm not sure when they developed.

I remember being in a swimming pool at a lesson when I was a kid. We were doing our normal routine, heading toward the deep end, doing breast stroke, when all of the sudden I remember inhaling water and feeling like I was being sucked toward the drain. I was close to the edge, grabbed the side of the pool, pulled myself over, coughed out half a lung of water, thought to myself that I was completely *nuts* and continued the lesson.

Sometime after Ironman and I got married, we went camping in Kentucky. We were roughing it. We packed our stuff in, packed our stuff out. Went hiking all over the valley. It was gorgeous. But we went over part of a 'natural bridge' and I could feel myself being pulled toward both sides of the bridge. A realllllly incredibly high natural bridge. I couldn't stop the sensation of being pulled toward the edge and I was terrified of falling off. I sat down. Ironman thought I was being ridiculous, but it was this unearthly sensation of my body toppling toward the edge, the side of this really high bridge, and I was absolutely going to fall off no matter how hard I tried to stand up straight.

Fast forward to being at the mall in the past three years. The mall downtown has 3 (or more?) levels, with walkways along the sides, the 'inside' of the walkways being open to the floors below. I'm really not sure how many levels there are or what there is to see, because the walkways have railings with clear glass. If I get too close to the railing I have the sensation of being 'pulled' over the edge of the rail. If my kids get too close to the rail, I feel almost desperate to get them away from the rail, but I can't get to them to keep them away because I'll be pulled over myself! It's one of the worst feelings in the world. I want to 'save' my kids, but I can't get close enough to them to keep them safe. I feel - just - completely paralyzed. It's awful.

The same thing happened when we were out on a boat dock while we were camping. The girls would get close to the edge, trying to look for frogs, and I couldn't grab them to keep them away from the sides. I really wanted to keep them from the edge, and apparently we were only over water about 4 or 5 feet deep, but I couldn't get close enough to the chix to keep them from being pulled into the water! Nothing happened to them, and they were never in danger, but geez, I. couldn't. help. them.

Anyway, ahem, back to watching the wrong tv show(s).

Trapped in an Elevator aired on November 2nd. It was very interesting. It contained information about the invention of the elevator and how it's affected the economy, commerce, etc. It makes me proud to know that someone from Indiana invented it! Did you realize that the least expensive offices/apartments were on the upper floors because people had to use the stairs? I guess I had assumed the most expensive were always on the top floors. Something to ponder.

Anyway, this guy got stuck in an elevator for 41 hours. Forty-one. Yeeks. Failure on the part of security not to notice the guy urinating down the shaft to get their attention. Failure of building maintenance. Failure of elevator inspection. Failures galore.

And since I saw that show? I've had not one, not two, but THREE notable elevator incidents. And today is the ninth. THREE elevator incidents in a week's time.

#1 - got in the elevator with my cart-o-crap to go up to the floor of the parking garage where I'd left my car. Elevator stops at floor #2. I need floor #3. I wait, the door closes, we start to go up again, and then WHAM! the elevator drops (not glides) down to floor #1. The doors open, my knees are shaking, I pull my cart-o-crap out the doors and shakily walk up to the third floor, get in the car, and try to stop trembling. Jeez-o-Pete, freaking SCARY! I was so freaked out I couldn't tell if the parking garage itself was shaking, if it was my car, if it was my legs, or what. Yeeks!

#2 - pressed the elevator button to go down to the basement. I work on the 6th floor. The door next to me opens without a sound, no light indicating up or down, but I assumed it was going down to the basement so I got in. Huh. It seems I was wrong. The door closed, the elevator went up, up, up to 11...and started dropping again...never stopping...until it got to the basement. Very smooth ride. But not how I was expecting to get to my destination!

#3 - this one, at least, is laughable. It's directly related to something that happened yesterday at home, but I'll leave that story for later. Maybe. It's pretty gross. Anyway, today I got to work, and booked it through the parking garage gerbil tubes to the basement elevators. I stopped to wait with the hordes to go up to 6. And this woman waiting/chatting with an assumed co-worker walked toward the elevator when the door opened. Something was hanging from her shoe. Oh. my. gosh. Something was hanging from her shoe. No kidding. I checked, rechecked, did a triple-take. A feminine hygiene product, stuck, apparently to the bottom of her foot, hanging out of her clog.

Ewwwwwwwwww

So...I'm now taking suggestions on alternative routes to and from the 6th floor.

Today is just today. And I'm ok with that.

Linking up with Murdock's Mama for Just Today





Outside my window...no window, but last time I was outside it was getting sunny & already incredibly humid. Nothing like the midwest in August & taking a walk through hot soup at 7am!


The time is...8:39am

Today I feel...tired

I am thinking...I'm really glad I remembered to grab my lunch today, because I totally forgot my purse. Doh!

At the moment, I am thankful...for seatbelts. Idiot driver pulled out in of a gas station without looking and nearly smashed into me. Instead I locked up my brakes, hit the horn, and locked up my seatbelt. I have a bruise from the seatbelt, but my airbag didn't deploy and we didn't collide.

Stupid.

Idiot.

Driver.

Should have just hit her.

Yes, I'm still irritated.

I am going...to try to figure out a running partner for Yell to run with at Anna's Celebration of Life this weekend.

I am wearing...black dockers, red button down short-sleeve shirt, black Danskos, earplugs, sunglasses as headband, and *horrors* no makeup! Yep, it's in my purse.

I wish...I could afford a new laptop

I am reading...Excel 2007 for Dummies (and The Memory Keeper's Daughter)(still) and I'm really enjoying another audibook by Rebecca Stead.  The Chicklets & I listened to First Light and it was truly a GREAT book.  I reviewed it on Goodreads.com if you want details.

I am working on...getting my living room dusted (found cobwebs on a lamp last night, ewwww) & figuring out some more shortcuts for Excel.  I'd really like to be a lot more proficient at this program.

I am hoping...for cooler weather soon!  Seriously, people, 110°F heat index at 2pm is just too freaking hot for comfort!

I am hearing...lots of work conversations.

Around the house...are lots of cicadas. One even flew into the house this morning!

I bet you didn't know...my twins are now certified Super Sitters! No more guilt over leaving them alone for a couple of hours - WAHOO!!!

One of my favorite...pens is a Staples OptiFlow gel pen. Smooth writing. No scratchiness. And it starts to write the instant I take off the cap. Glad work supplies them for my desk!

My weekend plans include...my grade school reunion (went to the same school 1st-8th grade) on Friday, race/fun run on Saturday for Yell, picking up back-to-school packets for the Chicklets, and a board meeting for FTSC. No rest for the wicked, right?

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Just Thursday

Have no idea why this didn't post last week -- but I just found it in my drafts -- so I'm submitting it now, but will be submitting another shortly. ::insert eyeroll::

Linking up with Murdock's Mama, Abby, for Just Thursday...because that's exactly what it is today...Just Thursday.



Outside my window...it's gone from completely too hot to sodden & rainy in the span of just 8 minutes!

The time is...5:40pm

Today I feel...good (doc was happy with me for losing weight...woot!)

I am thinking...it's going to be a loooooong 2 weeks without Ironman

At the moment, I am thankful...my parents let me borrow their car while Ironman's is being fixed

I am going...to be realllllly upset to hear the estimate on the car repairs

I am wearing...a long-sleeve t-shirt, shorts, river shoes

I wish...we had a more fuel-efficient vehicle (or two)

I am reading...websites, comparing hosting packages (wasn't I doing that last week, too?)

I am working on...moving the sspom.org site to a cheaper alternative

I am hoping...the next two weeks aren't too stressful

I am hearing...children babbling, people typing, doors opening & closing, air conditioning running

Around the house...there is a cowering dog who is terrified of the rain

I bet you didn't know...I'm at the library!

One of my favorite...activities is to watch my kids when they're practicing sports - 'cause the grin on their faces when they accomplish a goal is just about the best thing ever



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Have a great Thursday everyone!

So sad...

I went to the eye doctor back in January.  It had been more than a year since my last visit.  The doc was great, figured out that my eyes are indeed oddballs, and took care of my prescription.  Yay for new contacts!

Ahem.

To clarify, oddballs = differently shaped.

To further clarify, differently shaped = two different shapes.

To clarify to the fullest?  two differently shaped eyeballs means two different BRANDS of contact lens.  And two different prescriptions.  (Yes, I'm legally blind, but that's another entirely long and rather boring story.)

My new doc was kind enough to mail my prescription to me - wahoo! - no 40+ mile drive to his office just to pick up two boxes of contact lenses.

---

Did I mention I'm legally blind?  

I did?

Ok, no big deal, just making sure you're paying attention.

---

Anyway, the doc mailed my scrip to me and I was oh-so-excited to receive them.  I eagerly opened the box and found two different brands (as expected), but no note within indicating which brand/lens was for which eye.  I puzzled about it, pondered, examined the boxes, flipped them all around, scoured these silly packages and found nothing.

That was in February.

So I kept reminding myself EVERY DAY to call the doc's office to see which contact lens I should switch to when my lenses wore out, and which one was for which eye.

And I kept forgetting.  And forgetting.

---

Have I ever mentioned that I have twin daughters who participate in multiple sports & I'm sucker enough to volunteer for board positions because I enjoy being able to make a difference where my kids and/or twins and/or multiples are involved?

Ok, maybe I didn't mention that part.

Anyway, I get sidetracked working on other stuff and frequently forget things like...phone calls to doctor's offices.  Like the one I made for my annual exam that was due May 21...and is now scheduled for July 8.

---

So, back to the contact lenses. 

I had searched these boxes and was unable to figure out which lens was for which eye.  And one night, after working on the deck project (another story to follow sometime in the future), I got some solvent in my eye, my lens promptly dried out and nearly fell out of my eye.  

Since I'd been wearing the same lenses the doc gave me (back in January)(have you noticed the date? in case you haven't, it's JUNE) I thought I'd better pull them out and toss them and give one last shot at the box to maybe be able to figure out which lens was which and how on earth to put the right prescription into the proper eye (yes, I've done it wrong before)(and it resulted in a migraine).

And guess what?  

I'm old.

Happy birthday to me!

Top 10 Things Learned While Mom was Sick...10+ Days

1. The dishwasher doesn't unload itself. 
   Even though the dishwasher gets full and the dishes get washed, unless Mom specifically says "Crab empty the dishwasher" the dishes stay INSIDE the dishwasher.
2. Mom disappears after being sick for 3 days.
   In the beginning, very attentive children brought popsicles, drinks, tissues, medicine.  After 10 days, I got ONE visit from the girls.  No visits from dh.  Ouch.
3. Puffs Plus tissues, though occasionally causing excessive amounts of oil to develop around the nose, are the preferred tissue when copious amounts of fluid are leaking from sinus cavities.
4. When Puffs Plus are not available, toilet tissue, napkins, and the occasional sock will work.
5. Sapper *can* get the kids out of bed and to school.  (Maybe I add too much volume to the normal routine, causing him to avoid us like the plague?)
6. 7Up and popsicles.  Not necessarily in that order.
7. My mother is the most wonderful woman in the world.
8. Flannel sheets are excellent for keeping the sickly warm & 'coasty' in cold weather.  However, they also trap heat when the sickly person has a fever (resulting in the formation of puddles).  Bleccch.
9. Not all antibiotics are created equal.
10. Sick time, when depleted, does not spontaneously regenerate.  ::sigh::

The biggest thing learned, though, was that H1N1 stinks!

So here I am. Sitting on a gurney in the emergency room.

Should I express my disdain for my primary care doctor? Or my chiropractor? or both?!

I awoke on Thursday with what seemed to be a deep cough.  Throughout the day I felt worse.  I went so far as to predict I wouldn't be at work Friday and that I likely had bronchitis.

And I was right.

And wrong.

I woke up Friday feeling crappy & did send an email to my supervisor letting him know I would be out due to illness.  I had had the presence of mind on Thursday to make a doctor's appointment for Friday morning.  Yay me.  Whatever.  The doc confirmed what I thought I had - bronchitis.

I got my prescription filled - ONLY $193 - thanks doc - and then went home to two little girls (dh is out of town) who attempted to take care of me over the course of the day by making jello, chicken noodle soup, ramen noodles, and hot apple cider.

I managed to wake in time for my chiro appt.  I knew I should have canceled.  But I didn't.  I went in the hopes of alleviating the pain I knew I should be feeling as a result of lying in a very tense position (while trying to avoid coughing).

And at the chiro appt, the doc again said I should bring in my girls to get their immune systems in alignment.

Uh, doc, you 'aligned' my immune system 12 hours BEFORE I started this nasty cough.  And now you're aligning it 36 hours AFTER I started hacking up a lung and it's phlegmy contents. And AFTER a medical doc diagnosed bronchitis.

How come immediately AFTER your alignment I developed a nasty case of diarrhea? Yeah, I know you'll probably try to tell me it was my body getting rid of some toxins.

Whatever.

I still ended up in the emergency room on Saturday.  24 hours AFTER your 'immunity alignment' -- being diagnosed with H1N1, getting two breathing treatments, steroids, and a painkiller to help me stop coughing.  If I'd waited for another 'immunity alignment' I'd probably be DEAD! My oxygen sats were in the 50s.  THANKS!

Dear Chiropractor, you SUCK!

Oh, I won't be seeing you again.  Enjoy your flakey self-righteous life with your son who has never had an illness or a vaccine.  Doorknob.

Oh yeah, and primary care doc?  Thanks for not bothering to check to see if I had H1N1.  As a result of your inefficiency, I wasted $193.  You may have that kind of money to throw away, but I DON'T!!!