RBall Tourny & Much Ado About Monday

Ugh.  And ugh.

Monday came too quickly after a full weekend of participating in a racquetball tourney (with a miserable cold and little sleep - whine, whine), in which a large group of high schoolers who are ON A TEAM (didn't realize they even had r-ball teams in school!) took the prizes (ok, it was just sweats, so I wasn't too disappointed) in my division.  The real prize was the all you can eat (or did I just call it that?) food from Arby's.  There was a sign, which I felt was targeted at me, that read "no hoarding of food."  Well, maybe I should've paid attention to that - I'm thinking the mozz sticks did nothing for my game.  And, thank god, I had the sense to wait on the chili and pepper poppers until AFTER my games.  (Shall I hold the comments such as "or maybe then I really could have blown my competition away?")

Now let me "backup" (pun intended-read on my friends) a bit.  I had been discussing the tourney with my rball buddy on the phone and had lots of things going on in my head for strategizin & stuff.  I get in the car, open the garage door, and press on the gas pedal - WHACK!!!  Wow.  I am totally awake now!  Uh, yea, I backed right into the van...Crap.  I quickly assessed the damage - I put a few marks & a HOLE in the hubs bumper and nearly nothing on my big bad mama van.  Do I run back in & tell on myself, or shall I phone my man on the way?  OR...better yet...neither!!  I let it hang until I got home.

Two yr old Bea kept me up the night before by coughing then running down the hallway, bursting open the door and saying "I want mommy!"  WHY oh WHY did we take the containment bed, I mean crib, down???

I awoke with sore muscles, a sore throat, & a sore brain.  I look in the mirror - holy heck and other assorted words!  Please let the swelling go down on those eyes and - oh yuk - the dry, cracked, open crevice on the side of my mouth that was created by saliva leaking out my gaping mouth at night b/c I couldn't breathe out of my nose and my hair that looked like The Bride of Frankenstein - whites included.

As I am getting ready for work, the "raaaaaaaahhhhhh" took my attention off the mirror.  My middle "slash - first born" (as there are seven yrs between my eldest and she) child screamed bloody murder about the butterfly shirt that "didn't feel right" and whose "pants are too tight" and on and on about the clothes - for the love of god - the clothes!!  Let's not even mention the hair brushing.  That kid can reach decibels I couldn't fathom a child producing unless they were getting an appendage cut off.  Well, I finally got her out the door for school w/dad with all of 25 minutes to get myself and the 2 yr old ready.  I tossed a waffle to B & turned on the TV while I had just enough time for a "whore bath" then threw on some clothes & did a pony - after the dollop of vaseline on my nasal area & desert lips.  The usual Mon morning routine.

As I was taking Bea to the sitter's for the morn, I packed her a banana & drink.  I brought a waffle & a to-go coffee for my "commute" to work.  I attempt to get her out of the car (ouch on the tired r-ball muscles!), she throws a "do it myself" fit - so I grabbed her bag and notice she has taken her banana out & mushed the heck out of it trying to peel & eat it in the car.  Only a small amount of mush was in her fuzzy coat.

So, off for my 20 some mile drive to my first appt.  Oh crud - I gotta go pee already!  Damn coffee and nowhere to pee.  I distract myself by croaking along with Adele with my sore throat voice that doesn't sound so much sexy/raspy as it does near-death.

As I near the exit off the hwy, I put my turn signal on.  CLICK CLICK CLICK in rapid succession.  The display reads "Check right turn lamp."  Hmmmm...funny that's the same side that whacked the hardest when I backed into the van.  Guess I better fess up again tonight.  I approach the purple cow skull marker hanging on the fence, alerting me I'm near.  Somehow I manage to pull in for my 9:00 appt. at 9:02 - how DO I do it?

PAT visit

So, I have the coolest Parents As Teachers (PAT) Educator - not only is she a previous Speech Language Pathologist (and you all know how super cool we are, right?), she is a hip and understanding mama!  She came out the other morning for a visit w/my little 2 yr old Bea bopper.  As I opened the door to let her in, I apologized for my tired, haggard no-makeup face as I sheepishly admitted to being in recovery from enjoying some home brew and fine wine w/friends the previous eve-I get out so infrequently, that I stayed out until nearly 2am!

Nothing like admitting you're hungover, no matter how delicately I tried to word it, to the government employee who is coming into your home to discuss the progress of your minor child!!

Side note - she is so cool that my teen daughter (who was 12 at the time) dressed up as a PAT instructor to trick the kids at playgroup one day!

My hubs had expected me around 11 and he was planning on staying up until midnight to order the restocked supply of V-Tech's Innotab for Christmas so that I could go to bed.  Well.....needless to say, I roused (sorry to him there is no letter "a" in front of the previous word) him when I tried to get in the locked garage door.  I don't believe he kissed me goodnight!  

Just before the visit, little B announces she needs to poo.  I sit her on the potty, saying "I don't want to change a poopy diaper."  Her reply "daddy do it when he gets home."  Maybe I should've gone w/that...but let's just say - thank god that BM went into the pot!!!

Anywho....back to the PAT visit (sheesh - any of you who know me probably see I type in the same manner I speak - rambling...).  So, after listening to me whine about how pooped & crummy I felt, Miss PAT whips out Hi Ho Cherry-O, asking if we play board games at home.   I'm sure we did ... over the summer.... once.  Does the Wii Just Dance count?  B/C we did get that out the other day (which, btw, I kicked buttocks on the Jackson Five moves-I TOTALLY want a wig & retro clothes for christmas to complete the look).  

Then we talk about the teen and how I feel she always gets the short end of the stick, as we are always doing "little kid" stuff.  So, she mentioned she always used bedtime to sit on her daughter's bed & talk to her after the others were tucked in.  Funny she mentioned that.  Last night, I did just that.  My 13 yr old's reply "get off my bed - you know I hate it when you do that - just close my closet door on your way out mom."  Yea-great bonding moment.  Turd.

As Miss PAT has also been my educator w/my now 5 yr old & knows what crummy sleepers we raise, she asked how little B was sleeping.  If I'm lucky, she stays quiet until about 5am, then I lug her soggy diapered booty in bed next to me.  Listening to the suck-suck-SUCK of the binky in my ear & the whacking of my chest, head, etc. by her arm & the incessant hand down the shirt.

It becomes time for the PAT lady to leave.  I follow her out, yakking at her all the way to her car, when I hear the door shut AND lock.  All I can see is a bit of blonde tuft thru the door window.  She bolts and just looks at me.  There is no other way in at this point.  Sweetness led to time out threats, then the door was unlocked.  Turd.

Onto lunch.  I do the ol' Chef Boyardee standby.  This heating up of canned item does not take long.  Yet, in this short span, said turd girl has removed a potted plant, dumping dirt all over the table, bench, & floor.  After I grump & growl about that & get it cleaned up (long after the ding of the micro), I see she has tried to "re-plant" a few of the leaves in her applesauce next to the plant!!  Ok, so maybe that part was kind of cute.  Kind of and maybe.

And, to top it all off, I failed to put a diaper on her after the potty poo, and she peed in her cute little pants and onto the carpet.  Thank GOD it's naptime!!!

Thankful List 2011

Albeit a true-but thrown together list (since I am otherwise busy *wiping butts* & making my one not homemade cherry pie to take to friends - since my family is otherwise nuts and I cannot cook-in that order).

Not necessarily in this order, I am thankful for:  birth control, caffeine, blood pressure medication, jet tubs (and the ability to, occasionally, use by MYSELF), binkies, naptime, DISPOSABLE diapers, wipes (which are useful in many ways - esp. for all of the females in this house), beer/wine, hair color (bye bye white-ies!), Nyquil, Benadryl, drive thrus, push-up bras, panti-liners (a neccesity after three kids), pony tail holders, makeup, elastic, Retinol & eye cream, sunglasses, internet shopping... *Let me add Lysol here - as I had to go wipe a messy butt and potty seat during this entry.  Since it is Thanksgiving, and many of you will be gorging yourselves, I will not go into details so as not to ruin your feast*...microwaves, canned food, Scentsy's for the bathroom, bathroom door locks, doors in general (to hide the clutter), having kids too young or spaced far enough apart to not know the difference so I can re-gift, a 6'3 husband who will sleep in a twin size bed when it thunders, Dr. Rao, free babysitting (TV), washable carseat covers, caller ID, front loader washer w/sanitize option, curse words (even if only in my head), and, last but not least, the public school system.

And, in all seriousness, all 32 of you who read my inconsistent & often poop-related blog.  Happy Thanksgiving!!

PEEved

Soooo...hoping all 33 (wait 32 - I'm my own follower) haven't yet given up my near non-existent blogging of late.  LIFE IS NUTS WITH THREE KIDS!!!!!   
And becoming 40 something has apparently not been to my advantage.

Take, for example, a recent blood draw and 24 hour urine test.  I asked my husband, "who has 24 hours where they can commit to collecting their pee EVERY single time?!"  His reply, "old people."  Thanks dear.   

So, aside from having two flat tires in the same week (one of which caused me to have to cancel a speech client and the girls to be late to school - and with dirty clothes b/c they got tired of waiting on AAA to come fix the tire b/c mommy doesn't know how, so they rolled around in the wet yard), having the air go out in the - *add curse word here* then add "ing" - van, having to call a lawyer regarding visitation issues w/eldest daughter & her "father," getting a CT scan and TWO blood draws b/c they goofed (and I HATE NEEDLES) and the "normal" day to day craziness, I am having to collect and refrigerate my dang pee!!!  No wonder this "old lady" has high blood pressure!  I only prayed Macy wouldn't open the fridge door (as she usually does) and grab the container!  All that hard work would have gone to waste - oh yea, and a possible visit to the ER because of a wrongful consumption.

To continue w/the pee saga, on one occasion I had to be "in town" (we live, god forbid, at least 10-20 minutes out of town) for a time period that would not allow for my "three children later" bladder to be held.  So, knowing I would be dropping two of the girls off at daddy's office (where he has a dorm fridge) after school, I conveniently packed a plastic cup and wrapped Saran Wrap around the top, securing with a rubber band (no WAY was I going to use one of my pitchers).  He saw me w/the cup and I proceeded with "I know you aren't going to want to do this, but..."  

Don't worry - it's just coffee in the cups

I was right - he did not want any part of what I needed of him.  I used the restroom down the hall, cup concealed in a Wal-Mart bag.  I couldn't find the Panera bag the lab tech gave me, saying the lab people would think I was surprising them with bagels.  I returned the speciman to the fridge with a sheepish smile to the hubs, who later told me the bag was WET (it was from the sink - seriously!) and gave me the visual of him holding the 2 yr old in one hand, the SOLO full-o-pee in the other, all while trying to corral the other kiddo from the street to get them into the van.  Which reminds me of how I dropped the kids off at his office, then proceeded to get back in the van (with the carseats) and drive off to make my racquetball league on time - only to have him call and ask "what the he** are you doing - we have to switch vehicles."  Oh yeaaaaa.  

Aside from that ordeal is the fact that my 2 yr old rarely is in another room from me - so she was present at quite a few of the pee collections.  She thought I was using her potty seat while collecting in the lovely little plastic seat they provide.  Then, she brings some crackers in the bathroom and places them on top of the toilet seat where I had just placed the "collector seat."  "Don't put that cracker in your....mouth!!!!"  Close call.  Thank god those 24 hrs are over.  Now to tackle the weekend.  Enjoy yours!!

And THANKS to igottalaugh.blogspot.com's crazay blogger for encouraging me to do another blog!!  Though I would have rather taken a nap today...

Ladies, All The Ladies...

Ok.  So, this will be the one & probably only blog that isn't about a harried day with the kids.  I will risk some humility at the chance to remind all of you lovely ladies to GET YOUR FREAKIN' MAMMOGRAM ALREADY!!!

I had my first one last month.  I guess the newest research shows that at age 40 you should have your first one and follow up every year.  Old news was age 35.  They say the small amount of radiation received outweighs starting them at that age.  HOWEVER, you should always do the ol' monthly checkup on your own.  You know the drill.  But, if you're like me, with kids howling or banging on the shower door, it tends to take the back burner!

NOT the right way!

Soooo, I knew something was up when slightly smaller righty got a third photo-op and lefty was left hanging.  Just when I thought the ol' smoosheroo was complete, I was directed to place right side back in the wringer.  The phonecall a few days later confirmed there was a suspicious mass.  Pardon me, but, oh shit.  Ok, so follow up with an appointment with A SURGEON!!  Lump went directly from breast to throat.

I waited "a coon's age" in the office.  She (thank god for the "she" part) was worth it and I had an awesome friend go with me.  We had plenty of time to try to make light of the situation, cracking third nipple jokes and such.  A nurse finally arrives and asks "are you still having your periods?"  Good lawdy - already thinking menopausal?  Thanks.

The surgeon entered & reported it was more than likely a benign (insert a titilating sigh of relief) knot called a "fibroadenoma."  It was only 2cm and I could not feel it (another reason to get the mammo gals!).  She gave me three choices - but omitted the first, which was to ignore it.  I ended up getting a biopsy later that week.  These results resulted in my friend & I going down the road to get a Bloody Mary (to which the young waitress fumbled over her words and said two murders coming up!).

THE BIOPSY:  Super hubs came along for moral support (or did he just want to cop a look-see - I mean, with three kids, the ol' gals don't get out as much).   I look up in the waiting room to see that one of the techs that is going to be prepping my booby was a high school friend and the other a young male.  Yay.  Also, as we're walking back, I see another friend from school days.  She says "are you having another baby?"  All I could do was laugh out loud!!  She later came in & apologized - saying she didn't ask that b/c I LOOKED preggers, but b/c my hubs & I were together!  LOL again.  I'm sure it was just my big boobs.  Sure of it.

So, disrobe from the waist up, lie down, whip her out.  At least I got to place my arm behind my head, giving righty the added effect of lift.  After being asked, "you didn't eat or have any caffeine, did you?"  To which I replied - "just a granola bar and a small cup of coffee."  The surgeon told me NOT to NOT eat!  And, you know I gotta have a cup of coffee!

Then I get briefed on the details while being rubbed with betodyne (which is, ironically, about the same shade as a nipple/areola).  So, as I'm lying there exposed, they report that the doc, who is usually there at 745 still isn't there at 815.  Nothing like chatting with a young man (tech) while your booby is wide open getting cold, as I check to see if he is keeping eye contact.

Doc finally enters, apologizing.  Bet he wasn't up getting three kiddos breakfast at the crack of dawn while worrying about his "moobs."      

Obvsiously, I was numbed, then he made a super small incision then used this funky and loud device (sounded like a stapler!) to extract TWO specimens.  I reminded myself to breathe 289 times during the less than seven minute procedure.

He was very nice and the school friend was super awesome.  And doc let hubs stay in the room.  I find myself saying "thanks" as is customary.  I later told hubs "thanks - thanks for cutting on my booby & sticking that big arse needle in it??"  I tell ya, after having your crotch exposed to numerous strangers three times during childbirth and now this - there is no modesty!

After the procedure, I call my friend (the one who went w/me to the first appt) to tell her "I just got my booby cut on."  She had an extreme reaction, which was odd, because she knew this was scheduled & what was happening.  She thought I said "I just got my booby cut off."
 
Next step - go back to see the surgeon for the results.  The report did not come back saying it was a "fibroadenoma" but that it did appear benign.  I'm thinking that was it.  Nooooo.  She wants me to get another ultrasound in a few wks. just to be sure the samples were indicative of the entire "mass" (all 2 cm of it)!

I have a friend who recently had a mastectomy and is currently going through chemo and radiation.  She is a brave young mother of three who is on top of things, for sure.  Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers and don't forget to take care of yourself - for yourself and your family and friends!

Ludicrus Library Day

Wow - it's been forever since I have had time to "post a new post."  This will be just from the few hours of one morning.  

This morning started off better than the previous one.  Our coffee pot took a crap & we had to put it to rest.  This morning we used our new Bosch single cup-style pot.  OMG OMG OMG  Let's just say it put the old one to shame.  Deelishioso to the max - and not the Maxwell House - yippee!!  As usual, though, it had gotten cold by the time I got to finish the last drop.  And this one WAS good to the last drop.  Ok - I'm done w/the lame commercialized talk.


I notice 5 yr old (Kam) has major yellow crust on her eye.  Oh crap.  Is this means for another pediatrician visit?  Pink eye or allergies?  And tomorrow is Friday - does it always seem to work that way?  I try to avoid Dr After Hours for sure!  As I'm wiping it away (sort of - it's more of a struggle with a wild bear cub), the 2 yr old (Bea) is imitating the screaming fit.  Yay.
Well, it's the library or the doctor...the library won.


Next up is trying to get a quick shower in before the two create too much disaster with mommy not in sight.  When I finish, I peek my head around the corner to see the two year old eating "breakfast" out of a bag of Cajun Spice & Herb chips instead of her cereal.  Man, that topmost shelf of the pantry is going to be full after I rearrange!  The syrup she squeezes into her mouth is top on the list.


Next up is getting these little ones ready.  I mean, this whole leaving the house for an hour or two ordeal takes all morning!  I put little Bea on her potty seat - success!!  Then, she is so proud, she wants to wipe "all by self" - while sticking her hand IN the basin of pee as she wipes.  After hoisting her up to the sink to wash her hands (another wild bear cub experience), it's time to get them dressed.  Oh, that middle child of mine.  She wants to wear her tutu dress - the one that has leggings to go with b/c it's too short.  Get everything on.  "These leggings are too tight - I don't want to wear this!!"  Mama's patience is wearing thin.  I inform her she can put those clothes away & choose one more, but that is it.  Fit throwing ensues b/c she can't seem to get the dress back onto the hanger.  As I'm counting to ten in my head, I notice a long forgotten sippy cup of milk (chunky style) on her nightstand.  It must have traveled in there from little sis - and I have been buying the even more expensive than usual milk (organic w/the DHA brain fuel - hoping these kids will be doctors & lawyers & such so they can support their old ma & pa someday). 

PRE-MED STUDENTS

Somehow, we make it to the hot van in decent time.  We walk up to the sweet young library employee and I hand over the book that Bea ripped.  She says she can fix it.  Good - b/c we have two more like it at home.  I had to check them out w/Kam's new library card which we got b/c I have a wayyyy overdue book "Like Mommy, Like Daddy" that I can't find anywhere!

As we choose new books, Bea:

*runs up & down the ramp (the one I tell her EVERY time not to run on)
*grabs Pooh bear & Nemo off the shelves & throws them on the floor in the reading area
*throws numerous books onto the floor
*gets right in the little boy's face who is using the computer and starts "talking" to him
   (The last time she did this to a little girl, the girl got really upset w/her and said "stop it - look what you did!"  And made little Bea cry.  I felt Mama Bear rise up, but I put her to rest before I stood to my full 5'10" height and said to her "look what you did - you made her cry!")

As the lady is reading for storytime, Bea:

*performs forward rolls onto the other kids
*stands on her sisters fingers (accident), making big sis announce it very loudly 
*picks her nose, announcing "I have to get that booger out"


As we do our craft, she 

*grabs entire handsful (handfulls is not correct, right?) of tissue paper, wadding it all up for the other kids
*gets most of the tissue paper stuck to her hands
*reason for bullet #2 is that she has taken the purple glue stick and rubbed it all over her hands
 
Crazy me decided to head over to the used bookstore w/these houligans to get even more books (mostly to kill more time away from home where arguing & boredom set in - am I referring to the kids and/or the spouses - lol).   As I am attempting to pay, Bea grabs a pkg of cheese crackers & mouths it - "could you add these to the tab?" then I notice a candy bar wrapper, with a huge bite missing, on the floor.  Again, "could you add this to the tab?"  The understanding owner laughs it off and says something along the lines of  "I really didn't place them that low (like Wal-Mart) for that reason, but...maybe it does work!"  BTW, good choice Bea, caramel & chocolate - can't beat that!


The last ordeal before we head home is Bea running off as I'm struggling w/the book bags & the van doors.  I was able to stop her as a van came cruising down the one way street.  Then a Denali w/out of state tags starts heading down it the wrong way, as an on-comer honks.

KAM THE PHOTOGRAPHER-EVEN TAKES PICS OF HERSELF

In an attempt to settle the girls down (after making 5 yr old eat some veggies that she's "never eating again!" and sitting w/the little on my lap while I attempt to scarf something down-chocolate bar to come for mama at naptime-you know, the one Macy ripped off the shelf...), I read one of our new books in the recliner.  Kam decides she would rather listen from behind the chair and ends up pulling Bea & me all the way back - she wanted to take a picture to show daddy (a bit blurry):

WHAM BAM KAM

As naptime is the only respite during the day, I am usually pretty anxious to get them settled.  I put Bea in her crib and start to head out.  She pipes up with "Rock a Bye Baby," her way of asking me to rock her in the chair.  I give in - for about a two minute rock.


Right at the time for lying down Kam, she announces she has to go poop, taking her coloring book & crayons with her, calling out "I need something to set my crayons on!"  Oh lordy.

As I'm writing this, I am distracted by a talking toy & investigate to find the dog is lying on it.  I also hear Kam trying to blow her stuffed allergy nose, as I'm hoping she'll conk out for awhile.  Better go & get to that candy bar while I can...

Wacked Out Wednesday

Wed is my work (outside of the home) day.  I have little one in bed w/me - since about 6am.  I tell her to sleep "until the sun wakes up" - which, I have learned is approximately 5:15 am.  It is usually this time, on the dot, when she wakes.  However, she will go back to sleep if I put her in bed w/me - so I do.
But I end up waking her as I try to sneak out for a shower.  And it's hair-washin' day, so I have to allot more time. 

So I am able to take a shower without any interruptions (I believe this is a first, for a hair-washin' day shower, especially!).  I'll give the hubs credit for starting the coffee.  But how is it I end up getting myself ready, feed the kids and myself (I mean, I DID have to pop waffles in the toaster & all), do a diaper change, AND chop up an onion & a big ol' roast & throw it in the crock pot - ALL before leaving the house?  Women are so awesome, right?

My self -sufficient, appreciative, affectionate, unforgetful (which is not a word, according to spell check), immaculate teen is staying w/the kids again while I do the morning part of work.  Hope you sense the sarcasm here.

I get into the beloved (yea, right) mini van and head down the road to my first appointment - about 25 minutes worth of listening to MY music-which I realized about five minutes into the drive while listening to Kids Station Live on XM Radio...

Well, I get home in time for lunch/nap, as usual.  I smell a combo of poo and roast w/onion.  Awesome.  Teen informs me of how the little one made a green load of toxic waster in her diaper, removed it, then proceeded to sit on the carpet, leaving the residue of the butt mush in it's place.  Teen did her best (I'm sure) to clean it up.  Seriously - kudos to her for having to deal w/that while I'm gone.  However, AFTER I hand the babe a piece of cheese that she consumes, I notice her hands smell poo-ish.  Great.

I wonder how all that happened unnoticed?  I mean, nothing much could have been happening - the teen had time to do her hair (thanks to the borrowing of my new Chi iron), and she was checking her texts upon my arrival. 

As I'm preparing lunch (thank you lord, for creating humans w/brains - therefore, the microwave), the girls scream at each other, one crying over one of those fake broken fingernails on the floor (which she had for all of three minutes), & the other crying b/c she couldn't get a container to open.  We finally sit down to spaghetti.  After removing little one's shirt (always comes off for ravioli or spaghetti - a red-stained belly is better than a ruined shirt), I head back to the kitchen to retrieve my plate (always last).  When I get back, one minute later, 2 yr old has found the syrup from Wednesday's Waffles and has poured it over her spaghetti and a nice pool of it on the table.  Good times.

After threatening the kids with "no swimming later unless you eat three more bites," it's nap time for little one.  She requests I do "Rock A Bye Baby" in the rocking chair.  We snuggle as I hum the tune.  As I rise to lay her down, her head sticks slightly as she lifts it off my shoulder.  I get a whiff of syrup, then lie her down - I'll wipe her down later...