I had to take the twins for their shot update today. Simple enough I thought. Wrong I was.
First the doc informs me that they haven’t had their 3 year old shots, so they need those in addition to the 4 year shots. Totalled up to 4 shots each. Oh, and they need an anemia test so that’s a finger prick and squeeeeeeze each. And to top that off he needed a urine sample from each.
I would have paid to see my face when he dropped all this on me…or at least have recorded what was running through my mind. I gotta do what? How much? Get them to pee in that tiny cup? Am I being punked?
First things first: the usual eye, ear, throat, heart check. All good except Parker is running the whole time and pulling off the stethoscope, squeezing the blood pressure cuff, moving away from the light in his ear. If it wasn’t supposed to be done, Parker was doing it. Classic Parker. Maddie sat still and did it all.
Overall she’s over an inch taller and two pounds heavier and he has slightly worse eyes.
The real fun started with the urine samples. I went into it assuming I’d get peed on by one or the other or both. Parker hit the target…no drips or misses. My placement wasn’t quite right for Maddie so I did get a little wet, but I’ve had worse baby fluids on me before.
Then it was shot time. To have a little fun I asked who wanted to go first. They both fought for the opportunity because they didn’t know what was up. I let Maddie go first. She made it through the flu mist and finger prick okay, but with the stick of the first shot it all went out of control. She’s screaming bloody murder while she gets the four sticks, and Parker hearing and seeing this goes over the edge too. He’s in the corner screaming his head off…not feeling for her, but because he knows he’s next. Talk about fun.
At this point I know I’m supposed to be comforting dad and I was to an extent, but you ever have those moments where you can’t help but laugh at the situation. I couldn’t catch my breath for all the screaming from Parker. Nothing had happened to him yet, but you’d think we were about to snip off a few fingers and torture him.
I comforted Maddie while Parker sat next to me screaming like a banshee. When it was his turn I had to pry him from his chair one hand at a time. Then I had to pry him from me to get him down on the table…all this while laughing uncontrollably. And the nurse had to jump in quick and hold down his legs before she could stick him. I thought Maddie was bad but he was worse. I think he turned purple at one point.
When we finished with all the torture the nurse mentioned a treasure chest. It’s amazing how leftover happy meal toys in a Rubbermaid container (treasure chest) can shut any kid up. All this screaming and a cheap plastic ring made her happy again. He settled on a plastic Pokemon thingy.
Then we had the “walk of the wounded” through the office to the car…lots of limping, foot dragging and tear wiping for the soldiers.
This one’s about having “one of those mornings”.
It starts at 4:00am as I am shaving in the shower and feel that all too familiar razor slice on the neck. Instant shock and burning and droplets of red on the shower floor. Luckily I’ve seen 3 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy so I was able to stem the bleeding. Seriously, my “go to” trick is an ice cube on the small nicks. Works every time.
A few minutes later on the way out the door with my laptop bag in one hand, lunch in the other and 16oz plastic cup full of Diet Coke clenched in my teeth…well the inevitable happened and the cup slipped from my teeth.
Now I’ve been doing this for years and have never, ever dropped the cup…until today.
Diet Coke and ice went everywhere including on the laptop bag and my jeans. Having numerous children I know how to quickly jump into action to mop up a spill. Two soggy towels and three minutes later I’ve refilled the cup and I’m ready to head out the door. I’m OCD about my morning routine so the 3 minute delay has me in a tizzy…not to mention the wet spot on my jeans (left thigh).
The ride to work was uneventful (though I was waiting for something).
Within the first five minutes at work the optical mouse appeared to die on one of the control room computers. I couldn’t get it to move at all…even after beating it repeatedly on the desktop (hey, sometimes that does work). Since I don’t know where they keep the spare mouses or mice or whatever, my go to remedy is the ever popular reboot. Surprisingly that seems to have fixed the mouse problem…who knew.
My fingers are crossed that the rest of the day doesn’t spiral out of control with more mishaps.
Chevy and Ashley are both boxer rescues that we adopted. Chevy was our first ( October 2007) and then Ashley followed for companionship in July of 2008.
Because they are rescues, it’s hard to know what their lives were before us. Their lives are both very good now-and they are an important part of the family.
All we know about the past are two things: Chevy was a Hurricane Katrina rescue, and Ashley was rescued by a hunter who had found her shot and left for dead. What we know about the present are two more things: Chevy is Mr Nervous, jittery, and a constant licker-and always on the lookout for anything unusual outside the house. Ashley is laid back until she sees other dogs, heavy ( despite the fact they are both on strict diets) and is the bigger barker of the two.
Rarely is there too much drama other than the occasional chewed and headless Barbie doll, or the stealth move to grab a pop tart for some gastric hell later in the day. Unfortunately this past Saturday had 10 seconds of high drama that landed Chevy at the vet.
There were more dogs than usual at the neighbors’ house this weekend, which of course peaked both Ashley’s interest and vocal chords. Really not much unusual, just doing what nosy dogs do. In fact, as nervous as Chevy can be about the exact GPS location of me and Jodi at any given moment, Chevy usually doesn’t care much about barking dogs. That is until Ashley gets really wound up jumping and digging at the fence, which he then dives in with her.
This time his jittery but swift paw landed in the wrong place. While digging under our wooden fence, he caught the chain link of the neighbors fence. I’ll spare you the details…. except to say that he did what he shouldn’t have done but what all dogs do and pulled his paw back. I immediately put him in the truck and headed to the vet while he held his hurt leg up.
A large set of stiches, and an extended stay at the vet is how he began the weekend. He’s doing fine, but needs to stay away from the excitement until it all heals-and coming home would get in the way of the healing. I hear he’s got a large bandage and one of those Victrola looking cones on his head to keep him from chewing or licking his foot.
As I walked out of the vet’s office, that heavy feeling came over me. That feeling of how we love our pets as one of the family and will do what we need to take care of them. That feeling of how when they hurt, we hurt. It made me wonder again how Chevy and Ashley were treated before we adopted them. It also made me grateful for people who so passionately love animals that they spend their college years learning how to care, treat, and operate-never knowing what emergency may come next.
Five year old Jack has been bugging me lately to play poker. He saw the game board and chips in the game closet a couple weeks back and he said he wanted to play. I tried explaining how hard it was, but he fired back that he’s already played at paw paw’s and he’d beat paw paw with a “big house”. Right.
He was pushing again Sunday to play and I think I finally convinced him that now is not the time. So, he shifted to wanting to play any game in the closet. I figured why not, we’ve got Sorry and Trouble and other kid’s games…can’t be that bad.
Well he emerged from the closet with backgammon. I asked if he know what it was and he said he didn’t. He also couldn’t be persuaded to get something easier to play, so I figured I’d give it a shot.
Like a nerd I showed him how to set up the board properly, explained that he got to roll a pair of dice and he could roll doubles and how he could move pieces off the board to win…blah, blah, blah. This all seemed to be going in one ear and out the other until I mentioned that he could also land on a space that had one of my pieces and “bar” my piece.
Now in backgammon, barring means you put the other person’s piece out and they have to roll the proper number to get that piece back on the board. It wasn’t necessarily me using the term “bar” that got Jack’s attention, but when I broke it down into Jack terms and said it was “killing”…well then it got exciting. All of a sudden he was happy to know that he could “kill” my pieces…kinda like he could “kill” my pieces in Trouble and Sorry.
Ah…violence was the key. The killing also became his strategy. It didn’t matter that I tried explaining about getting his pieces around the board safely until he could move them off and WIN! No, that no longer concerned him. The whole point of the game now was KILLING! Sadly for me it proved to be an effective strategy: he’d see a piece unguarded and go for the kill. I spent the whole game (two games actually) being unable to advance any pieces. And, my attempts to explain how this was not a good strategy…well those were useless because he was happy “killing” my pieces.
I did finally run out of pieces in his path that could be killed, and he eventually refocused on getting his pieces off the board and winning both games. I admit I did take it easy on him while trying to explain the proper way to play…so he didn’t really “beat me”. I’m just thinking maybe Milton Bradley and Parker Brothers need to look at possibly repackaging and reengineering the classic games to draw more interest from the kids: get rid of “checkmate” and “king me” and “bingo” and start using terms like “death grip” and “kill” and “slay”. Just an idea.
Ok if you look back to how many blogs I’ve actually written on here you may be surprised that it’s barely ANYTHING. I have a lot to say, but I can never get it into a good blog. But NOW MSJ is on Facebook AND Twitter! What a better way to communicate my feelings in writing than being limited to so few characters?!?!?! LOVE IT!
I promise I’ll update those two pages more than the blog – of course that can’t be too hard…
So it’s 2009. You want to be a responsible parent and not a wet blanket on prom night. And here are a few ideas:
1-Find out who’s driving, the time of the all evening plans ( dinner, dance, and post party fun).
2- Agree to a Check-in, or “Text in” schedule ahead of time. If your teen is more comfortable with either, agree up front. When they do it is more important than how they do it.
3-Have the reminder conversation up front about what may be going on around them-deflect peer pressure before it’s a problem.
4- Put key phone numbers, and even the cab company into their phone. It’s about choices. If their riding with someone and that situation’s not safe, they need to be able to make a choice of calling you, a cab,etc.
5-Plan to wait up, and let them know you’ll be waiting up when they get home.
1 – he must love his family, and stand by them.
2 – he always opens the door for ladies. always.
3 – he would (and could) slay a dragon for you – if he had to.
4 - he makes sure you are in on the joke. Never excludes you.
5 – he is secure in himself – and it shows.
6 – gets up and out on a beautiful day, just to soak it up.
7 – never feels sorry for himself.
8 – he works outside, just to work outside.
9 – is patient with children and inlaws.
10 – loves a cold beer.
11 – winks at you (only every once in a while – to keep it fresh)
12 – he can make you laugh (despite yourself)
13 – TRIES to listen.
14 – he goes out with the guys.
15 – has long lasting friendships.
16 – has a need to be physical, doing something.
17 – limits curse words.
18 – smells good as often as possible (but doesn’t point it out)
19 – he forgives.
20 – does that sexy thing with his jaw, and you can see it it move under the skin. (ladies, you know)
21 – takes care of the yucky jobs at home; garbage, killing bugs, etc. without complaint.
22 – doesn’t ask why you bought the shoes…
23 – doesn’t shave on the weekend.
24 – has a special nickname for just you.
25 -is always becoming a better man.