Mom to the Screaming Masses

Migraines I suffer from migraines.

Migraines

I suffer from migraines. Suffer would be the correct word. When they hit, I go down hard. I can remember one day when I came down with a migraine - I called my neighbor over to feed my kids dinner, and I laid (lay? I never can get that straight!) down on the couch and just sobbed. I felt like my head was in a vise. She was appalled that I told her to just make them instant oatmeal - with tap water. (I'm so bad that I don't heat the water - why heat it - it'll just be too hot. I do put protein powder in it for them. Anyone want oatmeal at my house? Probably not.) I've had to call my mom over and had her bring fast food. I've called baby sitters. I've even gone to bed with all the doors locked and put the big kids in charge. The last one, I had to pull over on the side of the road and puke into a trash bag, as my 12 year old stuck his head out the window and yelled loudly how grossed out he was. The Hubster left work and took care of the kids. Thanks be to God for Imitrex - a snort of that up the nose, a couple hours of sleep, and I can return to life.

Thankfully, I don't get them all that often. I rarely get them when pregnant, and have about a 2 month reprieve after birth. It seems that Gabriel, who is four, may have inherited them. Three times he's complained of forehead pain, and within fifteen minutes, he's crying, begging to just be able to go to bed. I give him advil or tylenol and put him to bed. He goes to sleep so fast it's like he passes out; sleeps all night, and wakes up fine. The first time, I didn't think too much about it; and not the second. But this last time, I was a little bothered and I called his pediatrician the next day. He's not worried, but wants me to make notes on anything I think could cause it, if it happens again. Weather, lack of food or water, lack of sleep, moods, medications, etc. Gabe is my food allergic child - he is anaphalyctic to peanuts, tree nuts and coconut, and he reacts to even a slight trace. Do you know how much stuff contains coconut oil? And traces of nuts??
He has fairly bad asthma and takes meds for it. The migraines could be a sign of another food allergy, or it could be something else. I am wondering, though, if he could need glasses. I got glasses when I was 7 or so, and my eyesight has steadily declined. The ped thinks that's a good place to start.

I called today to make an appointment - I had to find a pediatric optometrist, which wasn't hard. To find one who accepts my insurance, much more difficult. We go on Monday.

Have you ever had a child with a migraine? Do you think it could be his eyes?

Things I learned this week

Things I learned this week

- Children will do anything to draw attention to themselves while in public places because they just know you won't spank them.
- Summer is about 3 weeks too long.
- Whatever they pay my kids teachers, it's not enough.
- Being without a crockpot for two weeks cut my menu selections sharply.
- The Olympics are really good, but I can't wait for football.
- If you make a fuss at McDonald's, they won't give you the toys in your Happy Meals.
- i know an awful lot about pregnancy and birth - I did some research this week and found that I understood a great deal.
- I really need coffee. Every day.
- All boys pants size 16 are not the same.
- The school supply that is required for seventh grade is the very one that the school has sold out of, and no one at Office Max has ever heard of.
- Never loan an extremely hard to find video of Sinbad's HBO special about growing up in the 70's, to your brother inlaw. The very one who gave it away.
- A piece of chocolate cake every night is really good for my sanity, but deadly for my tush.
- My neighbor is really tired of her kids. She sent them over my house to play, with strict instructions not to come home, as she was tired of them.
- Fate is already getting on my nerves. The first night of back to school meetings, not even the start of school yet, and I've already got a conflict.
- Getting hit in the head got me some good treatment the next day.
- I've reached the number of children that is too much for most babysitters.
- I really should get better at taking my vitamins. I feel better when I do.
- I eat too much junk.

I'm sure I learned more, but I'm drawing a blank. Thanks to Lee over at Oh, no the Blog! for the idea!

The most expensive week of

The most expensive week of my life

This week has just sucked, as far as trying to save money. In the past four days:

I went grocery shopping - $350.
I bought school supplies: $80
I reordered medication from the incompetent mail order pharmacy - $220
I filled local prescriptions - $213
I bought three pairs of sneakers - that was cheap, about $60
I bought PE uniforms for three kids - $220
I bought clothes at the super wonderful consignment sale - $143
One new backpack, and two raincoats - $80.
Mail order vitamins and soaps and such from drugstore.com - $100

No wonder my brain is fried. No wonder my hand hurts, from writing all those checks. No wonder I have no money. And I still have to buy another $75 or so of schol supplies from the school tonight.

But have I told you that they go back to school in 12 days?

The Mother Olympics Being

The Mother Olympics

Being in the spirit of the Games, I thought I'd think of a way that I could get involved. You know, I'd really like to think of myself as a world class athlete. Ok, pick yourself up off the floor. I don't mean athlete in the way that involves actually sweating. But, I thought of some events that I could probably medal in:

The dirty diaper shotput toss - See how far away from the diaper pail you can be, and toss the diaper in. Extra points if it contains a solid mass and it doesn't fall onto the floor!

The Baby pass - watch the parents pass the baby back and forth, trying to calm her during an especially long Mass. You will be surrounded by little old ladies whose children never behaved this way.

Wrestling - change the diaper on a baby who just learned to roll over, and practices over and over. Alternatively, you may be given a baby who has just learned to stand, and is determined that laying down is equal to death.Extra points given if it's either a) a dirty diaper, requiring multiple wipes and/or b) a cloth diaper using pins.

Weightlifting - Unload a cart full of groceries into the back of a minivan. Note: this is not just a one time lift, but really a test of endurance. Multiple bags will be hefted, all of them packed unevenly, some of them with holes, and some of them ripped. The milk will be bagged, as well as the jumbo 9 roll of toilet paper. Extra points given if it is raining, and additional extra points if you are keeping track of more than two children as you lift.

Mountain climbing - strap on the crampons and scale Mt Laundry! This one will be especially difficult, as you contend with a used pull up tossed in the washer, a red t-shirt washed for the first time, with color that ran, mold inside the washer, and blue crayons melted into the dryer. One unknown contestant will also be given marbles in the wash load.

Speed racing - it's a race against time, as you realize that you've overslept,and you must get the kids up, dressed, fed and out the door, as school starts in 27 minutes. How late will you be? Some contestants will have car trouble, some will encounter traffic situations, one will be trapped by a funeral procession, and one by multiple fire trucks. Each contestant will have multiple fighting kids of various ages, kid music blaring, and a surly preteen in the front seat.

Verbal volleyball - conversations with your inlaws, tossing insults back and forth. Goes hand in hand with the fencing competition. Topics of discussion include, but are not limited to : how you are spoiling that child, how homeschooling is wrong, why that baby should/should not be weaned, kool-aid is not a fruit juice, spanking as a punishment.

Swimming - The dishwasher overflowed, and you have to swim through the water to find the cut off valve. This competition is hampered by the two year old clinging to your leg, the phone ringing, the doorbell chiming, smoke pouring from the oven, and three shouts of "Mom!"

Triathalon - you will have to single handedly run the school bake sale, man the dressing room backstage during the performance, and chaperone the 4th grade field trip all in the same day. Conditions include starting with only four hours of sleep, no coffee, a lost insurance form and an overdrawn bank account.

How many events will you enter? What will you medal in?

Meandering Monday, Traveling Tuesday

Meandering Monday, Traveling Tuesday

Ok, so I'm a day late or a day early, depending upon your time zone and/or how much sleep you've had. I decided to take a note from Genuine, and I'll do a blog travel. Since I haven't yet figured out how to make that nifty sidebar thingy, and post some of my favorite blogs, I'll give them a shout out here. In hopes that they will similarly mention me, of course.

First on the list, well, I guess I'll start with Genuine. He has been recently lifted from his Double Secret PostPartum probation, after the birth of Genuine baby, so there probably won't be any posts from tonight. But his previous stuff is really great. AND, he takes the time to comment on your comments - always a plus with me. Of course, I think he's got one of my kids over there, but I'm not in a rush to go get her back.

Next, we have Moody Mama.She has a wicked sense of humor, and a big family like mine, and doesn't take crap from anyone. She's quitting smoking, and has made it over a week.

Third (thirdly??) I nominate Strong Coffee. She's got three kids, a great outlook on life, and stuggles with her weight. She's real and human and I enjoy her writing tremendously - although she doesn't write nearly enough for me.

Next on the trek, let's go with Gut Rumbles. A divorced man, living in GA, travels everywhere and anywhere he feels. He is straight in your face, tell it like it is, no holds barred. He loves wimmen, preferably ones with red toenails. His point of view actually reminds me of my dad. I know he'd hate to hear that. I mean that in a nice way, too. I learn tons of stuff from him.

And, last but certainly not least, I have to go with Redsaid. She was the winner of the writing contest that I came in second with, and it's easy to see why she won. She's in a play right now, and her descriptions of stage activities and fiascos bring me back to when I participated in theater productions.

Next week, more of my favorites.

Things that piss me

Things that piss me off

- leaving the lights on and running the battery down in my van.
- having to jumpstart the van in the pouring rain.
- having said van cut out on me three times when I was trying to drive to the restaurant.
- poor wait staff with a mandatory added 20% gratuity. She in no way deserved 20%.
- hearing the baby scream her head off - seriously, I thought it would just pop off and float into space, kind of like a balloon - all the way home from dinner.
- looking forward to a nice, quiet evening, and having the Hubster show up with a daughter and one of her friends to spend the night.
- making my favorite chocolate cake, and taking it out of the oven when it tested done, and yet turning it over onto the cooling rack to discover a goopy center.
- knowing that, this week, I have to buy four lists of school supplies, one backpack, 2 sets of PE uniforms, uniform pants, sneakers, ballet slippers, and medication. Not to mention the standard grocery shopping and bill paying. And I HATE bill paying. This means shopping almost every day with the heathen children.
- delaing with an incompetent mail order pharmacy. And knowing that I've got to cal them again tomorrow.

But, I have a laptop, and a chocolate cake in the oven. All the kids and the Hubster are either in bed or asleep. Life's not all bad.

Oh, happy day!!! I

Oh, happy day!!!

I have a laptop! It's a real, working laptop. You have no idea what I've been through in the past seven days, but I'm here to share it with you.

My gateway laptop bit the dust - lightning strike. If you moved the computer one teeny hair, the entire screen died. I took it for repair, and it was given last rites. I talked with the Hubster, and we agreed that we just couldn't replace it at this time. We will be coming into some cash at the end of Sept, and if we had enough left over after replacing the kitchen floor, we would buy a laptop. I moped around for a while, but decided that I'd just deal with it. Pretty grown up of me, I thought. He felt bad for me, though, and decided to do 90 days same as cash. He's such a sweetie - I think I'll keep him.

So, you know that we bought a Hewlett-Packard. What I don't think I told you was that, stupidly, I agreed to the saleperson's off for the "BestBuy computer setup". I'm so stupid! I never agree to any of that! But, for whatever reason, I did. I left it there, and the computer guy was supposed to put the antivirus in, all the critical updates, and set the computer up. Yeah, all stuff that I could have done. And should have.

I have been on the phone with the Linksys tech support people no less than 5 times this week, and we were still unable to get online. So, on Friday afternoon, the Hubster and I packed up the kids and the computer and trotted off to Best Buy. I handed the computer over to Elizabeth, who told me that the laptop, the one that had never ever been online at my house, was infected with spyware - it had been hijacked. WTF? I told her that it must have been done at the store, when it was first set up, because I had never been online at home. "Oh, no, we have a secure line here, with a filter. It happened at your house." Whatever, lady. Believe what you want, just fix the damned thing. An hour later, with all the kids waiting, the computer was ready and we drove home. In the pouring rain. I flipped the screen up, turned on the computer, and was greeted with - a black screen that said Windows 95. NINETY FIVE?????? The shriek was heard for miles. I called the manager of BestBuy, and reemed him out, and said I'd be in the store in ten minutes to get a new computer, and I wanted the $70 for the set up fee returned to me. Back to the store - in the pouring rain. I brought the laptop to the manager, who told me to wait in the return line and he'd have the computer set up girl look at it. Her name was Kim, and she was certain I had done something wrong. Her words were, upon hearing my story from the manager, "There is something more to this story - something she's not telling us." I came across that counter so fast - she had no idea that I was listening to her. I said, with enough anger to light the computer on fire, "There is nothing more than what I have said to you. Nothing. This computer is a piece of junk, and I can't get it to work. I think it was messed up when it was set up." "Oh, you misunderstand me. I think that there is more to the story on OUR end." Riiiight. Way to think quick, but I'm not buying it. She looked at it, gave me a big grin, and popped open the disc drive. Apparently, the repair chic had left the repair cd in. Kim looked at me and said "I figured that's what it was. I was going to tell you that I had never seen it before and I thought you were crazy, but you didn't look like you would appreciate it." The only thing that saved her life was the fact that she hadn't said it.

Back home in the pouring rain. It still would not go online. Yet another two hours on the phone with tech support, even going so far as to download an update for the router, and nothing. Nothing. NOTHING!!!!!! That was it. The final straw. The Hubster packed it up, and at ten minutes before closing, he took it back. He demanded a refund, and they obliged, but only after requesting that he pay a 15% stocking fee. The "Bullshit!" was probably heard for miles. He said, "My wife has done nothing but deal with this computer for a week. It may work here, but it doesn't work at my house. She's beyond frustrated, and I can't deal with this anymore. My nerves, and her's can't take it anymore. We buy a lot of stuff here." He got his money back. The Hubster works in finance - don't jerk him around with money.

He came home with a Toshiba, which cost $300 more, and damned if we weren't online and ready to go in FIFTEEN minutes. Six days vs. fifteen minutes.

Now, I'll never buy another Dell, and I'll never buy another HP. And I'll never ever let Best Buy do a computer set up again. I'm convinced that messed the whole thing up.

In which the baby

In which the baby has a death wish

Man, this child is going to kill me. I just know it. You can't put her on the floor, without making certain that everything is off the floor. And I mean everything. If she's laying still in one place, and being quiet, chances are, her mouth is full of contraband. In the last day, she has tried to eat
- kleenex, both used (eeeuuhh!) and fresh
- dried spaghetti
- the tag from a new shirt
- a glop of yogurt that was spilled.
- the dress from a polly pocket

There was more, but I don't want to gross you out too much, this early in the morning. We have a carpet under our kitchen table, and no matter how many times a day it gets vacuumed - which is supposed to be after every meal, but the 12 year old boy is in charge of that, so GOOD luck - there is still a renegade specimen, and she is tops at discovery.

She's 7 months old, and has been able to crawl for a month. She's FAST too! Her speciality is misjudging the width of the door, and smacking her forehead. Over and over and over. Our bed had a solid bottom, and she crawls into it at lest three times a day. And, let's not forget the stunning dismount from the bed head first routine, which is an event she will be gold medaling in. I frequently put her in my bed for a nap, and surround her with pillows, since her crib is in the room she shares with the three other girls. The other day, I went to check on her, and could hear her, but not see her. She had gone off the bed and was under the overhang, chatting with the dust bunnies.

I think that my other kids did the same stuff, but my lame brain must have blocked it out. They all survived, so will she, but it's going to be touch and go for me!

Growing pains My son

Growing pains

My son is 12. Of course, you all probably have much better memories than me, and you already know this. But, what you don't know about him is that he hasn't hit his growth spurt yet. Most of the boys his age that he hangs with have already started. A few of them have peach fuzz, and one or two of them have these really deep voices. Not my son. He's put on some weight, in what the doctor assures him is the precursor to the longed for growth spurt. At the beginning of last school year, he was able to still wear his size 10 pants. By November, he was into 12's, and by January he was in 14's. Now he is in 16's. He's not fat, though. He only weighs 94 pounds.

He reminds me of the old Bill Cosby sketch where he talks about his daughters looking for the breast fairy to come by and give them a little pump with her bicycle pump. (If you haven't heard it, it's on the Those of you with or without kids cd. It's pee-in-your-pants hysterical - I highly recommend the entire monologue.) He measures himself daily. Someone told him that lots of exercise will help you grow, so he's riding his bike for miles. He's eating lots of fruit and veggies, drinking enough milk for a small country, and sleeping as much as he can. He's even starting to add protein powder into his fruit smoothies. He wants to grow THAT much. He is growing; it's just really slowly.

So, all good habits, but the inches just aren't coming. Any of you with older boys, about when did the magic happen for your son?

The humility of bra

The humility of bra shopping

OK, if you are a guy, this next post won't be relevant for you at all. Not that I think I have many male readers, but you never know......

So, having nursed 6 kids, for a total so far of 107 months (I had to add it twice, I couldn't quite believe it!), I've worn just about every bra size that there is. Lately though, I've got boobs the size of Manahattan. None of my current bras fit, and my shirts are too snug. I decided that I would invest the time and money to get properly fitted, since I thought that would make my clothes look better. (Hey, don't burst my bubble, ok? A girl's gotta have something to dream about!)

I went to Victoria's Secret, and was measured. She came up with a 36H. Nothing that big there, so she sent me over to Lane Bryant. I walked in, and was accousted by an enormous black woman. Think Mammy, only plus another half. I explained my dilemma to her, and she said "There ain't no way you wear that size. Them Victoria's Secret girls can't measure anything above a B cup. Take off your top and let me have a look at your girls." Um, ok, right here?

We went into the dressing room, and thank God I have no modesty. She stripped off my shirt,grabbed the girls from below, and pronounced that my first problem was a lack of support. This I already knew. Apparently, the girls should be sitting nice and perky, not down near my navel. She wedged one hand under each boob and slipped the tape measure between her ice cube hand and my hot, sweaty flesh. She repeated the process on the other side, and came up with the same band size - 36. Then she grabbed one boob, and thrust it to the sky, and instructed me to hold it there. With what - willpower? No, my hand. She flipped the other one up, and strapped the tape measure around, and came up with a different cup size - an I. Holy Toledo, they make 'em that big????

When we were finished with our intimacy, I requested to be shown where I could find a bra of this magnitude. Mammy tossed her head back and cackled,"Girl, we don't sell them that big here! You gotta get to a big black woman bra store!" She shuffled off, still chuckling, and I stumbled out of the store in a daze. Where could I get something like this? It has to be a nursing bra, since baby R is still making pit stops at the crawl up Dairy Queen. She can get me out of my bra faster than any homecoming date ever could - but that's another story. I've tried to find them online, and so far come up with several that didn't fit, and one that was uncomfortable.

I went to the only big bra store I could find on short notice, and looked around. What is the deal with the little bow between the breasts? Is it supposed to be cute? "Pardon me, I couldn't help but be attracted to you. You are wearing a German Prison Matron bra, with cups that are bigger than my head, but - that BOW! It attracted me like no other!"

I'm still on the hunt. Tomorrow is a new day - I'm planning to scoop the girls up from their comfy under-the-armpits resting place, and trek out again.