Bug Zingers

I had to share (before I forget them).

We've been listening to Christmas music while eating lunch. I don't condone this before Thanksgiving, but the rainy weather demanded some holiday cheer.

"Celebrate Me Home" by Kenny Loggins was on the radio. Bug sang, "Silly Bring Me Home". Next time it's on the radio listen closely. I think Bug's lyrics are much better. We've been ad libbing ever since.

BB asked for more lemonade from across the house (pet peeve of mine). I yelled back he'd had plenty. His response, "I know I'm pretty. I need more lemonade!".

Every day he asks what day it is and where are we going. Today we're going to speech therapy. He said, "That's going to suck".

Me - "That's a bad word."

Him - "I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to myself."

Distubed

I'm disturbed. For several reasons.

Picture this:

Giant Grocery store.

Me-walking inside.

A toddler pushing the cute little cart for kids with the huge green flag straight out of the store, down the cart ramp into the middle of the freaking road. Alone.

A cart collector with gaping mouth.

An elderly woman with gaping mouth.

Two phrases keep repeating in my mind...WTF and Where is his mother?

Being a responsible parent, I beckon the child back into the alcove of the store and out of traffic. Does he respond to me? Hell no. I'm a stranger. And being in traffic is fun.

Therefore I walk inside the door, spot a motherly type chit chatting, and bang on the window. She reluctantly takes time away from her important conversation with the Giant worker and stares at me. I mouth, "Is that your son????" while frantically pointing at the tot in traffic. She rolls her fucking eyes and says yes. She then nonchalantly walks out of the store and meets her son in traffic.

After thinking maybe I overreacted to the situation, I glanced at the other shoppers and am reassured by my crazed plan to save the boy. Shock and Awe pretty much sums up the looks on everyone's face.

I wanted to turn her in to child services. I've never been one of those people. I'm just stunned by the dismissal she gave her son. He walked out of a store into a busy intersection and she didn't care. That poor poor child.

Bug Speak

Since this is my journal...a list of Bug's cuteness.

"Al is a baby. I'm a own up (grown up). Babies can't drink soda but own ups can." He drinks IZZE soda which is really carbonated water and fruit juice. Whatever gets us through the day.

When asked what he could do to help after dinner he replied, "Don't talk?". Maybe he'll pass this tidbit on to his dad. That would be so helpful.

I asked him a question about his vampire bat. His response, "Duh. You ij-i-dit. You iji-dit. Id. Idi."
Me - "Idiot?".
Him- "Yes! Idiot!"
Me- Shocked. I'm going to have to watch Spongebob. I bet he uses that word.

BB- My rap is done.
Me- Huh?
BB points to his zipper.
Me- Your zipper is down OR your trap is open.
Great. He's already showing signs of mixing up phrases and words; a source of constant embarrassment for me.

After being sent to bed early for bad behavior, I was on my way out for a girls' night out. BB comes to the top of the steps and says, "Oh bate (great). I was sleeping and you woke me up. Bate (great), now I awake. I'm coming down there to watch TV."
Me- dumbfounded. He's so darn smart. And really good at turning things we say around and using them to his advantage.

To step in, or to not step in. That is the question.

Nanny days are awesome. She's great with the kids. They love her in return. They play. They laugh a lot. They learn quite a bit, including some spanish words which I consider a bonus. Everyone comes out a winner, especially me. I get shit done while she's here.

Today while up in my office doing important things, like Facebooking, I heard BB scream at the nanny to "knock off", "that's what you tink", "I'll do it if I want toooo", and finally "KNOCK OFF". I have faith in her abilities to handle any situation but what do I do when I hear my child being a complete brat? He knows better than to talk to anyone this way. We all know he knows better. So, do I go downstairs and tread on the nanny's ground. Or do I let her handle it?

You be the judge

From Bug's Preschool Teacher:

Week 1:

Upon entering the classroom with his bucket in my hand: "BB needs to carry his own bucket".

FYI- His preschool requires kids to bring buckets. Not the cute little buckets you're thinking of. Big a** mop buckets. Think 10 gallon. They get to decorate them but they are expected to carry them from the car into the school.

Week 2:

During pickup, I was pulled aside and informed that Bug and another boy wouldn't line up after the whistle was blown. They weren't immediately punished therefore they did it again during the next playground time. I was told that if it happened again they would spend playground time in the office. I completely agreed with this punishment. We use the same philosophy at home.

Week 3: I arrived early to preschool for pickup. BB was hanging out alone on the playground looking extremely sad. When the whistle was blown, he lined up but slower than the other kids. I watched the teacher take the shoulder area of his coat and jerk him into line. Not cool in my book.

During the ride home, he said he got in trouble 3 times for not using 'pretzel legs' (Indian style seating).

Week 4: Upon dropping BB off at class, we were running behind but not late. I carried his bucket inside because I didn't want him to fall with that darn bucket weighing him down. His teacher did not say Good Morning instead said "BB, you need to carry your bucket'.

Yes, we get it. The boy should carry his bucket. Couldn't you say good morning before lecturing? Not cool again in my book.

Obviously I'm keeping a list. I'm so tempted to talk to the director because I feel we're treated differently. I hate to say it's because we aren't members of the church where BB attends preschool. It's been a month and I keep thinking his teacher is having a bad day... every Tuesday and Thursday it seems. My plan is to watch the other kids and see if she treats them differently also. Then I'm taking my list and making an appointment with the director. Aren't all kids, hyper or calm viewed the same in the eyes of God? Thought so.

Let's hear it for the birds........

While walking from the car to the house, a bird shat on me. It landed right on my front pants pocket. How does that even happen? I was wearing a jacket. Totally missed my head, glasses, nose, jacket and landed right on my front pocket. I can only venture to guess that it happened this way because I've lost weight.

Yes! CrossFit is the BEST workout ever. It's worth the money. It's worth the industrial looking warehouse turned gym. It's worth suffering through summers with no A/C. It's even worth the pre-workout diarrhea days dreading the intense, damn difficult WOD. I'm so glad I got off that stupid elliptical trainer and joined my CrossFit gym because I am finally getting the results I deserve. And tomorrow is Fight Gone Bad day. I'm so nervous about that workout, the pre-workout diarrhea has already begun.

Lemons

It's been how long? Where the hell have I been? And what have I been doing? June 7th was my last post and it's August 24th. Well friends, I've been contemplating life. When life throws you lemons what do you do?

Most important contemplation and the biggest lemon...Al was (mostly) diagnosed with neurofibromatosis. Back up, when she was one month old she started getting cafe au lait spots all over her body. (Cafe au lait spots = similar to birth marks the color of coffee with cream.) More than six or seven large ones are usually enough for a diagnosis of neurofibromatosis (NF1). She has 9 large ones at last count and many smaller ones. She's had 2 MRI's, a CT scan, an EEG and several other fun medical tests. All of which were clear. One would normally breathe a huge sigh of relief. Well, NF1 is a waiting game. She could develop more symptoms over time or live her life with just cafe au lait spots. For now, we wait. I took one whole day to wallow. Now we're proactive and dealing with whatever comes our way. This month it's low muscle tone and no weight gain. Are they related to NF1? Maybe. No one really knows for sure which is why Al is in the NF1 research study. I know I could've used more positive information on this disease. For fun, just google NF1 and take a look at the photos that come up. I sound bitter but I'm not. I never was. Just worried about my girl. Dealing with something like this will change your perspective on life. It's made me a better person. I worry a lot less about the little things and more about the important stuff.

We took our first family vacation this summer. We packed up and drove 3 hours to Philadelphia for Sesame Place. Great time! The kids experienced water slides, roller coasters, cotton candy, super long twisty suckers, and lots of tomfoolery!

Bug learned lots of new words while on vacation. He has mastered the use of sh**, da*n it, and fu**. He really gets a lot of variety out of the f-word. There's 'f-in' and insert any type of toy you can imagine. Sometimes he throws out a plain ole 'fu**' if something doesn't go his way. On occasion he's insisted his sister hurry up and get in the 'f-in' car. It's just great. I've tried explaining that it's a horrible word but that didn't work. Now I'm trying to ignore it or take away treats. Did I mention he starts a Methodist preschool in a few weeks? We could get kicked out before he has a chance to catch the flu.

It doesn't seem like I've done much with my summer but if you checked any of my three calendars you would notice that we don't have much down time. I cherish the mornings we don't have to be anywhere. It's rare for us to head out to Target just to have something to do. So to answer my own question, what to do when life throws lemons at you? Turn them around a few times to find the pretty side and then display the f***ers on your blog. And remember, if it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger.

Hello my friend, hello

Go ahead and use your very best Neil Diamond voice, I dare you.

Facebook claims way too much of my blogger time. It's ridiculous. Well, no more. Now school will claim all of my free time.

Surprise, Surprise...I was offered a Fellowship Grant through Drexel's online school. The grant gives 30% off all classes as long as I am a part-time student. With two kids, I'd have to be superwoman to take more than two classes at a time and do well in them. The kicker just happens to require that I begin this summer. Just thinking about starting so soon gives me IBS. My brain is not ready. But my life is ready. Luckily, we found our nanny early and she 'fits' in our home quite nicely. Bug has been enrolled in preschool two days a week beginning in September. Combine that with two nanny days and we're set. In theory, I should have plenty of uninterrupted time to devote to school.

What has the child been up to? Thanks to him, I'm almost never embarrassed anymore. Anyone ever have days where you leave the house and check to make sure your pants are on? I do. I thought it would be really embarrassing to look down and lack pants. Turns out, after life with Bug that wouldn't be so embarrassing after all. Now we've entered the tooting stage. He can toot on demand and he does. In elevators, on benches while some poor random soul is inserting the child's foot in a pair of shoes, in Ikea while a sweet little lady is commenting on his cuteness, and during any other time where tooting would be inappropriate.

Random Bug comments:

Walking through an orchard after picking strawberries:

Bug: Mom, you have a big ole wien in your butt.

Me: (Looking stricken and very pale all of a sudden.)

Bug: I'm just kiddin', it's your camera.

Me: (Technically, the camera was in my back pocket.)

Jas yelling at Bug to go to his room because he was tormenting his sister.

Bug: I'm not scared of you. (As he sprints to his room.)

In the grocery store an older women is checking out produce:

Bug: Hey! Have you seen our baby? Isn't she cute?

At the diner after being seated:

Bug: See our baby? Hey, did you see our baby???!!!!

Talking to my mom (his momo) on the phone:

Bug: See our baby? She's so cute.

Thank goodness he loves his sister.

After knocking Alice to the floor and stealing her toy causing her to scream bloody murder...

Me: Go To Your Room.

Bug: How bout I kiss Alice and say sorry 3 times?

Me: Try it.

Alice: (Immediately soothed.)

On our way to a short errand Bug packed his backpack full of toys.

Alice: (Begins screaming in the car)

Bug: (Opens his bag of goodies and passes her a toy) Here you go Allie. Don't pie (cry).

Me: Did you bring any toys for you?

Bug: Nope. I didn't want her to pie in the car.

Me = melting heart.

Life is good.

Conquering Fears

Resolutions made this year:

Focus on me.

How I've accomplished this so far:

Hired a nanny.

Dedicated at least three mornings a week to the gym.

Hired a personal trainer.

Applied to a master's program; got accepted; will start in September.

Next steps:

Conquering my fears. 

My fears:

Running - Shin splints, side splitting pain, slamming my feet on pavement. 

Murky water where I can't see the bottom or the big nasty fish lurking beneath the surface.

Scuba diving

Travelling new places alone with children in tow.

How I'm taking control:

This week starting to sprint on the treadmill. If I like it, who knows I might become a runner over time.

I decided to learn to scuba this week. Jas wants to windsurf together but that doesn't interest me in the least. After looking into scuba lessons I found most of the shops do beginner dives in quarries. FEAR QUARRIES!!! My chest closed up just reading about it. I think this fear will take more time to overcome because I'm not jumping into a quarry. Anyone seen 'Gone Baby Gone'? I quarrel with myself on whether or not I'd jump into a quarry to save someone else's child. I'd do it for my own in a heartbeat but I'd have to talk myself into doing it for someone else. 

I'm seriously considering taking the kids on the Metro tomorrow to pick up my sis from the airport. That should count for travelling to new places alone with kids in tow. I hope no one needs a bathroom.

I've been doing some thinking. (Run!!! Get out now!!!!) Jas and I are not happy in our rental house. 

It's older than we initially thought.

If one too many things are plugged in to various outlets, a fuse blows. And blows. And blows. It doesn't even matter if you unplug that one thing. It will blow four to five times resulting in me scurrying down two flights of stairs to reset the fuse box. Anger always ensues. Not to mention the possibility of a FIRE. We hired an electrician to take a look and of course the whole house needs to be rewired. FYI- if you build on to a house, make sure the electrical stuff can handle the add-ons.

We have a pool but will have to pay for a pool fence in order to make it kid safe. Hint: this cost about $2000 in Florida and I'm sure the price is inflated some here in DC. The owners will not pay for this but we can take it with us when we leave. Oh, it will only benefit us if we have a pool again. Otherwise we'll have a random pool fence in the garage.

Carpets are old and need to be replaced. Obviously the owners aren't going to do that. It's a rental. 

So I keep thinking that if we're going to be here for 4 years it makes sense to be happy in your house. Right? We have considered (seriously) looking for a foreclosure home to buy, fix up a bit and then possibly sell or rent when we leave here. There are some great deals out there. -I've been looking nonstop for two days at houses online. I just feel bad for taking advantage of someone else's misfortune. Is that crazy? It's a great time to buy. And I'm a sucker for a great deal. I usually buy shoes or bags but I can make exceptions for houses too. 

Please pick me. PICK ME!

A few weeks ago I applied to Drexel's information and library services master's program. I've been so nervous awaiting their response. At first, I believed my friends and family when they said I would get in without any problems. After the boosted ego went back to its normal state, I started to fret. Why would they pick me? I don't even have library experience. I just know it's what I want to do. Why would they allow me of all people to skip taking the GRE?? 

I only applied to one school. Drexel. Their program is completely online. They offer four different areas of study for the library services degree. They also allow applicants to skip the GRE if your previous GPA is above a certain number. Which is all perfect for me! I don't want to take the damn GRE. It's hard and I'm way out of practice on mathematics. Basically, all of my eggs were in one basket. 

It paid off! They sent an acceptance email last night. I'm in. Yahtzee!!!!!!!!!!!

What did I do after calling my family and closest friends to share the news? Realized I've got to study my arse off and ended up chewing all of my fingernails off. Lovely.

Zingers

Bug has been full of it lately. Here's a list of the zingers I can remember from this week.

Me: Trying to get him buckled in to his seat. "We do this rigamarole every day. Sit still."

Bug: Did you say cinnamon rolls? Yummm, I love cinnamon rolls. 

Bug: I have an idea. A good idea. How bout Aldice and I play a game?

Me: She's too little to play with the games.

Bug: How bout I pour water on her head.

Me: Why would you do that?

Bug: So, she'll grow like a plant and get bigger like me.

After a long car ride home from the gym, Bug could tell I was agitated.

Bug: Good beef mommy. I'm worn out.

Translation: Good grief.

Me while picking up the kids from the gym play area: Hey Bug, who's your new friend?

Bug: This is sock shoe boy.

I have no idea about this one. Unless the kid's name is Joshua - that sounds a little like sock shoe boy. There's also a girl he refers to as purple girl. This sounds a little bit like a couple of superheros or a cartoon, right? Sock Shoe Boy and Purple Girl save the day!

Talk to the hand

Yesterday I took the kids to the gym so they could play in the playground for a while. Before going inside I asked Bug our number 1 rule. He said, "No thumbs in my mouth". Yes! (He's a thumbsucker and we have picked up some nasty germs over the years.) There were lots of kids at the club so I knew they would have a great time. I worked out for an hour and came back to pick the kiddos up. I caught Bug slurping down some kid's bottled water. It seems we need to add a rule.

After our lunch, Bug held up his hand and told me to talk to his hand. I grabbed his hand and began a conversation. Then he asked me to talk to his ear. So I did. It wasn't until I reiterated all of this to Jas that I realized some girl probably held up her hand and told Bug to 'talk to the hand'. I imagine my son did what I did, grabbed the hand and began a conversation. After laughing each time I recounted the story to my mom and my sister I also felt a little bit like we failed the first of many 'cool' tests. Ah well, I wasn't cool until I embraced my inner nerd. Bug will probably be the same way.

In case you didn't know

#1 Moon sand is dangerous. Don't ever EVER accidentally blow any of it in your eye. Bug accidentally blew some in his eye and ended up with abrasions around his eye...from rubbing. He also had extremely red eyes for three days. Moon sand now lives in the garage. We're saving it in case something strange happens to his eyes. It could be necessary in court. You just never know.

#2 If you get fillings from the dentist and they feel slightly high go back for an adjustment. I did not and now feel like I pulled a neck muscle AND have TMJ pain. Serious TMJ pain. In my defense, I thought I pulled a neck muscle. I didn't think the two were related. 

#3 Don't confuse Andy Rooney with Andy Dick. They are two entirely different people.

#4 Life in the kitchen ends when sink plumbing goes down the drain. No cooking, no cleaning, no counter space because of all the cleaners normally living under the sink, and being 'green' goes right down the tubes due to paper plates and plastic cups. 

#5 If the sink craps out and the plumber tells you you can still use the sink, don't. Especially if the plumbing isn't attached to the sink. Really, REALLY don't turn on the disposal. It's messy. And just plain gross.

Adventures in Doctoring

Why is it so difficult to find a good doctor? I'm not even asking for a great doctor these days, I'll settle for good. 

I thought I found a great doctor until her office stopped taking calls. Seriously, when I call it goes directly to a message that says they are renovating and will finish by December 2008. I tried calling for three weeks before throwing in the towel. I didn't want to give up on her. Giving up means getting back online to find another doctor. It's really a crap shoot with this area. Why did we find exquisite doctors in a small Florida town but can only find shady doctors in this metropolis we live in? Shouldn't it be the other way around? 

I found a new doctor for myself and the kids. They are located right above the new dentist I found. The new dentist is great. Wonderful even! They are kid friendly, just like our dentist in Florida and very unlike the mean office we first went to in this area. So, I assumed the doctors in the building would be great too. Anyone remember what happens when we assume? Yep, I waited for 3 1/2 hours to be seen. The doctor was from Africa which wouldn't have been a problem if he would have looked at me. Or read my chart. Or not pummeled me with questions. Or stopped getting annoyed with me for not answering fast enough. Or stopped rubbing his head like I caused a headache for him. Or didn't argue with me that a BP of 156/98 is normal. Or didn't ask what kind of medicine I wanted him to give me. Or didn't tell me that wearing glasses causes migraines. Or I should hire a nanny and just take my migraine pills and pass out for a day. Where the hell do these doctors come from? I feel sorry for all the people waiting with me who think they are getting good care from their doctor. They aren't and should leave...after they get four new prescriptions like I did. One of which just happened to be a really good BP med that also prevents migraines. Let's hope it works. I'd like to think something good came out of a completely wasted morning. And I'm still hopeful the new pediatrician will be great. If not, I'll just find a new one.

yes, I have asked around for recommendations. I've called them too. They either don't take our insurance or aren't taking new patients. I'd go back to Navy medical but that would screw up Bug's speech therapy. I can't even imagine letting Navy medical deal with my son. To save money they would probably tell me he's cured after 6 months and then we're just done. We'd have to pay out of pocket for speech therapy.  

My turn again?

A while back I had a crazy week where nothing worked for me. It seems the world revolved and it's my turn for craziness again.

• I've upended entire bowls of food onto the floor. 
  
• I've tried to make my child happy by cooking corn muffins but couldn't because a household pest got into the cornmeal, both bags. Which reminds me...go to Lowe's and buy something to get rid of pest. Of course I have analyzed the pantry for signs of a specific pest. Based on my astute observations; i.e. I called my mom and described the evidence; it's probably not a mouse but maybe a weevil. Whatever that is. 
  
• Upon calling the gym to make reservations for the kids, I asked to be transformed to the Kidz Klub. Much laughter ensued when I then asked to be translated to the Kidz Klub. **I might have mentioned confusing words and embarrassing myself.
  
• My oldest child now feels responsible to remind me of daily things I keep forgetting to do. I feel terrible for being the cause of his new responsibility.
  
• I have found several items in the pantry that just don't belong there...brand new, recently opened BBQ sauce, tub of butter, and the coffee creamer. 
• Thus I have also found a box of oatmeal in the fridge. 

Not only did the world revolve and dump braindead on me, the kids have stolen hours from my sleep each night for the past two weeks. Unlike others, I don't need sleep for beauty purposes. -No, I'm not saying I'm gorgeous and don't need it. I just gave up on sleep solving my eye baggage long ago and now invest in expensive creams, lotions and serums. Sleep is vital for my brain to function. I wonder, what would the husband do if he came home and found one of the kids stowed in the pantry on a shelf? Could I sleep in then?

 

Scenes from the day

Today we had an evaluation with a speech therapist for Bug. Baby Al and I were allowed in the room to watch. It was really all I could do not to laugh out loud.

Here are just a few things I heard.

ST showing a picture of a boy holding his stomach: This little boy seems to be holding his stomach. What do you think he's feeling?

Bug: When you stomach hurt you sometimes po up. Then you should po up in the pash can. 

Translation: .....sometimes you throw up and you should throw up in the trash can. This was a valuable lesson learned this week when Bug had the stomach flu. He rolled over with his hand over his mouth saying he needed to 'give up'. His mouth was aimed at my face. I had to lay the ground work for future throw up sessions by telling him that no one should ever throw up (give up) on a mama. Always hit the trash can. He listened well.

ST: Here is a picture of a boy with dirty hands. What should he do?

Bug: When my hands is dirty my mommy says, "DON'T suck your thumb. You get germs". 

ST: What do you like to eat with a spoon?

Bug: (leaning forward with elbows on the table) Hmmmm. Let me tink about this. I like to play in the water with my poon.

ST: Can you point to the little shoes?

Bug: No. No, no no. You can't wear Baby Al's shoes. They too little for you. You wear you own shoes.

I was in tears in the back of that room. Yes, I think she caught all of his problem areas. And no, I don't think those were the answers she wanted from him. But by golly they made sense. My child cracks me up. He knew some things I never thought he would remember. Kids are like sponges! I'm just glad he didn't tell her that she has a gina or curse at her. All in all, it was a very good day out in public.

There's something stuck in my brain

Two days ago I woke up with a strange word stuck in my head. Mariposa. I asked my husband about it. Was it in a movie we watched? Is it someone's name? Does it ring any bells? He was stumped.

I finally googled it. Mare-posa = Vatican City. Mariposa is a city in California (Yosemite). Mariposa is also the name of a boutique selling dresses and tableware.

So, either something is telling me to become Catholic, take a vacation or buy a new dress.

I hope it's a vacation! I could use one of those. I don't need any of the other things.

Live it up.

A friend from high school emailed a few weeks ago. It seems her husband has rectal cancer. At the time they thought it was stage 3. I just received another update from her and after further testing he has stage 4 rectal cancer. He's young. He's a doctor. They have a 3 year old who is learning to use the potty. They travel any chance they get...with their child. They are such a normal, sweet, caring and loving family.

When my friend emails about her husband, I always respond with positive thoughts. I truly believed in these positive thoughts until I googled rectal cancer stage 4. It's bleak. The treatment he has to go through seems impossible for a strong, healthy man much less one already weakened by cancer. It's going to be a very tough year for them.

My heart goes out to them. There isn't much I can do for them, other than continue to be a good friend. From this moment on, I will live it up. They didn't let children stop them from seeing the world, they packed them along. I vow to do the same. I'm not going to wait until 'the kids are older so they remember'. As Bug says, "You just never know, do ya?". Seriously, you just never know.

In case you didn't know.

These are just a couple of things someone in my house did not know.

If blueberry oats x 3 is on the Trader Joe's grocery list - don't be fooled. A blue box does not mean there are blueberry oats inside. And now, I have three boxes of plain ole boring oatmeal to eat on for breakfast. I'm sure he just had my heart in mind.

The wine opener only looks like a wine opener when it's in my hand. Some people can open a drawer several times and stare at the wine opener BUT it just doesn't look like one until I pull it out.

Showers do not magically clean themselves. Really, they don't. Trust me.

I just love extra long weekends. We learn so much about one another.

How?

Two nights ago my aching neck woke me up from a blissful sleep. That very next day I had an intense headache only slightly relieved by the Tylenol/Motrin mix. Yesterday I showed up at the gym for my weekly training appointment only to find out I screwed it all up. I was an hour early and had to spend an hour doing cardio and then another hour with the trainer. OUCH - add a lot of obsenities and you might cover how my ass feels right now. My abs do look better though. I've never EVER seen overnight results but killing myself for two hours might be the miracle fix for my problem areas. Somehow during all the weight lifting, I pulled the same darn neck muscle. The way I turn my head to the left is just geriatric.

How is it possible to pull a muscle while sleeping? Seriously, how? I'm not a violent sleeper. I don't toss and turn or sleepwalk. Is this all part of aging? If so, I don't think it's fair. The amount of sleep I get these days barely suffices for a full day with two kids. And now I have to worry about pulling muscles while my body is replenishing after the torture I put it through. Unfair.

Not your average day

Last Friday I received a call (finally) from Al's new genetics doctor. She's the chief of Genetics at Georgetown Hospital and she called me, personally. FYI- She scored so many points in my book just for calling. She had received Al's records and wanted to see us Monday (today). This worried me quite a bit. Made me think she saw something in Al's records that other doctors had missed. Of course I was anxious about going. Plus I had to drive to DC and maneuver two kids through a huge hospital and entertain both of them while restraining Bug. (He's way too smart to be loose. He'd have their whole computer systems rewired before they knew what hit them.)

Just a few obstacles we encountered:

Plan A: Put Al in the baby Bjorn and single stroller Bug so he'd be strapped in. BUT the single stroller had been man handled too many times by the hubby that it wouldn't even open. Upon closer inspection...the whole frame work was bent. I struggled so much with that damn stroller with Al in the Bjorn that a strange man approached apprehensively and offered to help. Muggers are usually my main concern in parking garages but today I willed them to try me. Just try me.

The parking garage at GH leaves so much to be desired. There are plenty of elevators but none of them are accessible from three of the four parking aisles. We found a hole in the aluminum fence (construction I guess) and I lifted the double stroller over cars just to get through. It was a small feat.

The doors, all three of them leading to the hospital from the garage, are not handicap accessible. Anybody ever seen a mom trying to push a double stroller through a door?? Please help her. Luckily one very sweet woman helped me all the way to our floor. Bless her.

Once we were in our room awaiting the doctor, Bug decided to talk about 'ginas' and 'weins'. He swears he has a 'gina'. I keep telling him it's a 'wein'. I was so happy a poster encouraging reading lead his thoughts elsewhere.

Back to our new genetics doctor. She's absolutely wonderful. Very thorough and proactive. Al is finally in good hands. She's going to need physical therapy. She's been trying to crawl for months but never took off. She has very weak muscles in certain areas, could be a genetic thing. Definitely something her pediatrician should have picked up on a few months ago but didn't. She's going to have another eye exam and an x-ray of her pelvic region to check for any abnormalities. The genetics doctor will follow her progress until we know for sure she does not have NF. I'm happy. Finally we're searching for answers.

The new doctor also wants to see Bug and evaluate his speech problem. Hey hey, maybe we'll know for sure if he's apraxic or just needs speech therapy. I hope he just needs speech therapy. Apraxia can pose problems for kids for a long time.

The funniest thing about all of this...the hubs and I had a slight spat about doctors this evening. When we were searching for doctors several months ago, I wanted to find them one at Johns Hopkins or Georgetown. He said this, "Why would you do that? Why take them to a teaching hospital?" Um, probably because it's a really really good hospital. Ass. Now, just look where we are. Did I mention Al's new doctor is the Chief of Genetics. Yahtzee!

Screaming, Ranting, Raving yet keeping it on the inside

Imprudent
Nonsensical
Insufferable
Intolerable
Lazy
Impervious

Goodnight, I could go on and on. Who am I ranting about you ask? The referral chick working (I disagree) at my children's pediatrician's office. I can't tell if she's just uncaring or dense. Either way, she shouldn't hold the position given to her.

Background...
Baby Al needs a genetic test. She has lots of cafe au lait spots on her body which could indicate neurofibromatosis. We've done two other tests, a CT scan and EEG. Those tests were negative - which is great. The final test is a genetics test. This will tell us if she carries the gene for NFM. This is really for me. I want to know for sure that she won't have to worry about NFM for the rest of her life and also her childrens' lives.

Sounds simple enough, right? It was until we moved to Maryland. I've battled with the above mentioned referral woman for three months now. First, she gave me the main number to a hospital (she called it George Hospital, it was Georgetown Hospital) and asked me to call to make the appointment for Al. Silly me, I called. Can you even imagine the confusion I caused. I didn't have a doctor's name or anything to go on other than the word 'genetics'. There are lots of genetics doctors. Duh.

After many phone calls to Urma the referral nightmare, she finally gave me the name and number of the person she's been calling. See that's funny because she never actually called but she had the name and number and just horded it. (Can I put an emphasis on hore? Just add a w for me.)

Today I called the sacred phone number. It was so easy even though the genetics department didn't know me or my daughter. The genetics team asked that I have the pediatrician fax over any pertinent info about Al. So I called Urma. Oh my goodness. I needed blood pressure medicine after that phone call.

Here, tell me if you could've kept your cool.

U: So, they want us to fax information to them?
Me: Yes.
U: What could they want us to fax?
Me: (Fighting the urge to be sarcastic) Ummm, probably the actual referral request from her doctor and any information regarding the reason we need a genetics test.
U: And they want us to fax that over?
Me: (Are you kidding me? You do work for the doctor's office right? Is it odd for a referring doctor to have pertinent info about a patient???) Ummmmmmmm, your office has all of her records, right? The doctor needs to look at them before she decides to see us so they are kind of important.
U: Oh. Okay. I'll send them when I get to it.
Me: (Would it help if I dropped by and did it for you. Lazy ass.) That'd be great. Thanks.


As soon as we get this genetics test we're leaving that office. I've already called the office manager about the nurse who tried to give Al two sets of 6 month shots one week apart. No one really thought that was as scary as I did. Seriously, can't patients still sue? Doesn't this frighten people anymore?