Happy Thanksgiving! Today is a difficult day for me. I don’t really feel much like celebrating. Although I have much to be thankful for. Believe me, I really do. I’m just so sad. This year I decided to just have Thanksgiving with my husband and daughter. I didn’t want to invite anyone over. I’m sure my father-in-law and his wife are totally pissed off, but I don’t care. I’m just not in the mood for all of it. The wife was not very sensitive when my mom passed away, and last time they were here to watch my daughter when we were out, and my daughter was sad, she was not at all comforting to her. I just want a quiet day alone. I’m not setting an extra place for my mom like many people say to do. It’s obvious enough she isn’t here.

Last night we went to a nice Thanksgiving Eve church service and there was pie fest after. Everyone brings a pie and there is always way too much pie, and we stuff ourselves silly. It was pie making day for us yesterday. We made 3 pies – one for church, one for us, and one for a sick friend. We delivered one to a friend who has cancer and spent an hour visiting with them. When I count my blessings, I am thankful for my health and the health of my family, and I pray deeply for our friend.

Today we will read the giant newspaper full of ads, watch the Macy’s parade, make a nice meal, talk about what we are thankful for, and share memories of my mom. I hope everyone reading this has a happy Thanksgiving. Don’t eat too much!

If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Today I had a follow-up appointment with my gynecologist on an ultrasound I had 2 weeks ago. I was shaking in my boots that he wanted to see me, rather than just talk to me on the phone. He thought I had polyps, which was the reason for the ultrasound. As suspected, I have polyps in my uterus. I have to have surgery to have them removed. Hip, hip hooray! And… I have to be put under to have it done. Ugh. I don’t like to be put under. It makes me nervous and I feel super groggy when I wake up. Also, it makes my daughter freak out. Just what I don’t need right now. He has assured me that out of the thousands of polyps he has removed, he has never had one be cancerous, so he has told me not to worry. I hope he is right.

Then I got home and one of my kittens who is only a year old walks toward me and she is limping. The poor baby! I thought I noticed a slight limp over the last week or so, but I couldn’t really tell and she was playing, running, and acting totally normal. Today it was a definite limp and she was holding up her right front paw and just looked sad. Terrific. Luckily, I got an appointment with the vet tomorrow morning, so I have to keep the other one from tackling her and rolling across the floor with her for the rest of the day.

I hope my daughter doesn’t come home from school with any drastic school mishaps today. Thank goodness she has 5 days off for the holiday. It should be a welcome relief for her from homework and annoying kids.

Mother of the Year

Well, no Mother of the Year Award for me this year. Today my daughter had a Student Council meeting after school that ended at 3:45. I have a calendar of everything that happens during the week posted on a dry erase board on my refrigerator. I looked at the ending time of her meeting no less that three, maybe four, times today. However, somehow I must have got it stuck in my brain that I had to leave the house at 3:45, not BE THERE at 3:45.

As I was driving to school, I was talking on the phone to my husband about something totally unimportant. I looked at the clock and said with alarm “is it really 3:52?!” He says “yeah, why?” I had just realized that I was supposed to be at school at 3:45, as I stepped harder on the gas. Of course, I started crying, because that’s what I do lately. I still had 15 minutes left before I got there. I was frantic. She has a phone, but it’s not activated for calls. She can get texts if she has the WiFi on. Jeff turned it on when we were at parent-teacher conferences and showed her how, but I don’t know if she ever turns it on. He said he would try to text her and tell her I was late.

Murphy’s Law, as I am tearing down the road, there’s a cop with the road closed. Grrr, I have to take a detour. Go figure! Tears are streaming down my face. Please let her stay inside behind the locked school doors. Once she goes outside, she can’t get back in. I finally get to school and she is right inside the door, relieved to see me, but wondering where I was. The text from Jeff did go through, thank goodness. She has been begging us for a phone for at least a year and now she is definitely getting one. Elementary school was too young, but middle school with all the activities is different, she needs to be able to reach me. This isn’t going to happen again where I can’t reach her and stay on the phone with her until I get there. Although I will never be late again!

Pool Rules

I attended my favorite aqua cardio class today with trainer Dalfim. He sure is a charmer with those old ladies. During “Macho Man”, he jumps up and does splits in the air. Today he did a couple push ups and he actually pushed himself off the ground about a foot and clapped his hands. WOW! I would have had a broken nose if I tried that. He really woke up the crowd and those old women were smiling and batting their eyes at him like they were in love. Ooo la la! It was hysterical!

I have a list of pool rules that I think everyone must follow, but especially if you are over the age of 70.

  • No speedos – I think this definitely applies to everyone, but seriously if you are over 70 and your gut hangs several inches over the speedo, it’s a definite no.
  • No make-up – Really ladies? Make-up in the pool? You’re gonna get wet and it’s going to smear down your face. Get over it and go without the make-up.
  • Don’t fix your hair and expect it to stay dry – once my husband came to water aerobics with me and jumped in the pool and a lady bit his head off and said “some of us don’t want our hair to get wet”. Really? You’re in a pool!!!!
  • No white swimsuits gentlemen – For the love of Pete men, you can see right through it (if you know what I mean). There is one VERY old man who comes in every day in white swim trunks. When it gets wet — ARRGGHH!
  • Ladies, if you are a little heavy on the bottom (front and back), PLEASE get a full coverage swimsuit. And when it starts to stretch out, please look in the mirror and get a new one. Everyone can see everything that hangs out of it. Some things you just can’t un-see. I’m getting a little grossed out at the pool.

Now, I’m not perfect, but I don’t think I’m grossing anyone out either. At least I hope not.

Bits & Pieces

Life is beginning to return to normal in bits & pieces. Yesterday I had my first personal training session since last spring. I simply never got around to it in the fall and now they are going to expire, so I have to kick it into gear. I also feel like I’m putting on a few un-needed pounds. I went to water aerobics today also and it felt good to actually be at the gym two days in a row. My body is responding and I can feel the difference.

Yesterday I also talked to my uncle, my mom’s oldest brother. I interviewed him for the book I am writing. It was interesting for me to hear some stories about her as a child and young adult, before I was born. I am already up to 50 pages, with much more to add. I still need to talk to her younger brother and hope to have time to call him tomorrow.

Today’s grand adventure was taking my daughter to the doctor for her annual physical. She was not very cooperative. The paper gown was itchy. She has excema and didn’t want to show the doctor, yada, yada, yada. She was mad as a wet hen when it was time for the shots. Tetanus and flu shots. She was really ticked! I told her she won’t have to worry about the tetanus again until she’s 20.

On the way to the appointment, she asked where she had to get the shots. I said, “in the doctor’s office”. Ha ha! I’m such a smart ass. “Disco Inferno” came on the radio, so I cranked it up and sang along as loud as I could. I thought I would try to cheer her up to take her mind off the impending shots. She told me I had a mental problem. Ahhh, kids. They don’t appreciate good music.

The Talk

My daughter has been bugging me to have “the talk” with her. You know what I’m talking about. Yep, that one. The sex talk. I wrote about this before. She has overheard girls on the playground talking about it and started asking questions. The playground girls think that they can get pregnant by kissing boys. Ummm, I don’t think they listened very closely to the presentation that was given last year at school.

Well, I broke down and talked to her. Although, I wasn’t ready. I thought I had a few more years before this came up. I don’t think she was either, but no time like the present. Right? I can’t let her run around thinking babies come from kissing. I would rather she be informed properly than listen to a bunch of uninformed girls on the playground. I asked her what she thought happens and she had a very general idea. I explained the whole puberty thing and getting her period and how all that works for girls. How boys voices will start to change, etc. Then I had to get to the nitty gritty. Ugh! I didn’t want to talk about it any more than she wanted to hear about it. I did stress that you only do it when you really love someone and usually when you are married. Once I gave her the details, she ran to the bathroom and made sounds like she was throwing up. Then she came back and shouted, “I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT’S HOW I WAS BORN!!!!!!!” Ha ha! I’m pretty sure I scared her off from anything to do with THAT  until she is at least 30. 

I did let her know it’s actually pretty amazing that God planned it this way and a whole person is suddenly born. It’s pretty much a miracle. She still better wait until she’s 20, or else.

Shots in the Head

Today was shot in the head day. Yes, you read that right. Every 6 weeks I get trigger point injections for migraines. I get about 20 of them in the back of my head, my neck, and shoulders. It is not fun, and it is certainly the least exciting part of my day, but it helps tremendously and generally lasts most of the 6 weeks until the next one. Or at least 5 weeks and I suffer greatly the last week until the next one. My head gets very numb immediately after he injects the steroid and stays that way most of the day. It will start to wear off about 7:00 and then I will start to hurt and need a couple ice packs and go to bed early. I have an appointment with my personal trainer tomorrow, and clearly completely forgot I had this appointment today when I made it. Probably not a great idea, but it is too late to cancel now. She is pretty good if I tell her I can’t do something. She knows I have migraines and fibromyalgia, so she will just have me do a different exercise instead.

Well, I am in a real mood with my daughter’s school. Again. They seem to have a real need to micro-manage us parents. OMG! First of all, I got no less than 6 emails that there was a PTO meeting yesterday. I shit you not. So… are you trying to tell me there is a PTO meeting on Monday? Do you think they are trying to get people to attend? Geez! And then there is the “Fundraiser that’s not a fundraiser”. If we donate this much money, it will prevent them from ever having a bake sale, if we donate $xx it will prevent us from selling wreaths and wrapping paper, etc, etc. Yep, I doubt it. You will still try to make us sell stuff. Forget it. I put in my years as a Girl Scout leader and sold several thousand cookies. Been there, done that. Until you come up with something people really want to buy, I’m out.

Also, yesterday we got an email to make sure we pull up “all the way to a certain spot” when we drop off in the morning to “ensure a proper flow of vehicles”. And don’t drop your child off until they are fully ready to exit the car. OMG! You really have to waste an email on this nonsense! Why don’t you just shoot me in the head? What a serious waste of time for the writer and the reader. Give me a freakin’ break. Also included in that email was a “social media challenge”. You’re gonna love this. They want us to sign an agreement to add the school’s Facebook page to our Facebook. And if our children are over 13, to add the school to their Instagram. Ummm, no. I’m not wasting my time to print it, sign it, and send it back. Again, give me a break. I have better things to do. I already have them on Facebook, but now I want to delete them for spite. If my kid was 13, maybe I wouldn’t necessarily let her be on Instagram. Did they ever think about that? Hmmm?

Lastly, I want to strangle the yearbook club advisor. She really needs to get her shit together. Seriously. Let me tell you why. All the other clubs have nice calendars of when they meet. Nope, not her. 3 weeks ago, we had a date on the calendar for the yearbook meeting, but it wasn’t on the school calendar, so we weren’t sure if there was a meeting. I told my daughter I would call the school and find out and told her to listen to the announcements. I called the school and there was no meeting listed. Also, no announcement, so I picked her up at the regular time. On her way out the door, a friend asked if she was coming to the meeting. Sure enough, there WAS a meeting. Terrific! She missed it. I sent the advisor an email to inquire why it wasn’t posted on the website, announced, or why the office didn’t know about it, and could she please provide a calendar. No reply.

Today there was supposed to be a yearbook meeting. It WAS listed on the school calendar, but there was no announcement, so Hailey thought it was cancelled and she sent me an email to pick her up after school. Again, walking out the door, the same friend asked if she was coming to the meeting. Again, there WAS  a meeting and she missed it again. Because I drive 20 minutes one way to school, I was already in the parking lot waiting by the time the friend told her there was a meeting and this continues to happened. Hailey was pissed off and said she isn’t staying on the yearbook staff. I sent another email to the advisor referencing my message from 3 weeks ago and kindly asked her to get her head out of her ass and reply. I really just asked her to get herself organized, which probably wasn’t nice either, but at this point, I don’t really give a hoot.

Anyhow, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. End of rant.