Okay, so I don't believe in god, but that's quite beside the point right now. Even atheists and existentialists will say cliched phrases like, "God bless you" or, "Dear god in heaven, not again." Because sometimes, you've got to bring out the big guns so people know you're serious.
My long time blog readers (yes, all 3 of you) will probably remember my horrible time two years back when my eyes went berserk.
Three weeks ago my vision started changing. I went straight to my retinal specialists, who declared my eyes healthy. So today I went to my optometrist, who said, "Something is very wrong here. Vision doesn't just change like this for no reason, we need to find out what's caused this and fix it." She told me to wear only one contact lens, she told me to only update one of the lenses in my glasses. Said we'd run some blood tests. Deja fuckin vu. Dear god in heaven, not again. The same symptoms, the same suggestions.
Last time, it was a month or two from the time my vision changed to the time I started going blind. It wasn't until I started losing vision that a retinal specialist was called in and saw major problems. What if those problems just weren't visible during the first stages anyway? What if it's happening right NOW, and they're looking at everything else because they think they've already ruled this out?
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Backstage, Underage...
When I was coming back to work from lunch, Bel Biv Devoe's "Do Me" was the last song I heard before leaving my car. It's always amazing to me how a single song can transport you to another time, make you remember a person or place that you haven't thought of in years. In 1990, I was in 7th grade. *sigh* Wait... what the HELL was I doing singing a song like that?!
Anyway....
Had a great time on Saturday jamming to old music with my friends. It's not often I find people who have the same odd tastes in music as yours truly. The only thing no one seems to dig (or at least admit to) is Elvis. I'm an Elvis girl. But Rob Zombie, Aaliyah, Adina Howard, My Chemical Romance, Shai, Linkin Park, Pink... those were just some of the music that rocked out a suburban kitchen this weekend, and we happily sang along like the old, lame parents that we are.
Blackstreet - that CD was too scratched to play :( I remember seeing them live, how the bass vibrated my ribcage and changed the rhythm of my heart to match the bass line.
I must now go and find their song, Don't Leave.
Put your lighters up (or your lighter apps, iphone users!) and go listen to some of your favorite music today :)
Anyway....
Had a great time on Saturday jamming to old music with my friends. It's not often I find people who have the same odd tastes in music as yours truly. The only thing no one seems to dig (or at least admit to) is Elvis. I'm an Elvis girl. But Rob Zombie, Aaliyah, Adina Howard, My Chemical Romance, Shai, Linkin Park, Pink... those were just some of the music that rocked out a suburban kitchen this weekend, and we happily sang along like the old, lame parents that we are.
Blackstreet - that CD was too scratched to play :( I remember seeing them live, how the bass vibrated my ribcage and changed the rhythm of my heart to match the bass line.
I must now go and find their song, Don't Leave.
Put your lighters up (or your lighter apps, iphone users!) and go listen to some of your favorite music today :)
Monday, June 15, 2009
Underwear Nation
Here we go again. Got a call from the school's day camp leader who said that Isaiah pulled up a little girl's skirt today. But here's what I don't understand - The teacher's attitude has flipped 180 degrees from last week. NOW she says it's no big deal, all the kids think it's funny, she just wants me to know. Last week they acted as if he was torturing small animals and well on his way to being a murdering, antisocial psychopath. But NOW it's no big deal. What the …?
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Pants Off Dance Off!!
Parental mortification.
It comes when your child does something that you’re so embarrassed about, you debate moving to another state. Okay, he didn’t kill anyone, but ….
Yesterday Isaiah pulled down a little girl’s pants at day camp. I was horrified. All I could think of was this little girl being scared, embarrassed, crying. My husband and I talked to him both together and separately. He wrote a note to the girl that says, “Isaiah M. is sorry. To Emma” It’s a little backwards, but gets the point across. Oh, and did I mention that Emma is not a tom boy – she’s a shy, adorable, tiny little girl. You’d think he could at least pick on someone his own size!?
This morning I march him into day camp and go to the head instructor, and Isaiah apologizes to her. Then I ask for Emma and her parents, and her mom is CONVENIENTLY sitting there in the hallway. I’m ready to defend my little guy and explain that he’s not a malicious perv in training. Her mom was accepting of Isaiah’s apology, Isaiah gave Emma his note, and Emma’s mom had her give Isaiah a hug. We chatted for a bit, and I tried to explain that we obviously don’t condone such behavior. Then she tells me that their biggest problem with it was that Emma thought it was funny. She said that she has a 2 year old boy and for all she knows, it’ll be him doing it next week.
Sometimes I forget how understanding most parents are. Raising kids is kind of a universal experience, we’ve all seen and tackled the same issues. No one wants to be too rigid, only to be the one apologizing next time.
I’m just glad he didn’t end up on the pre-k offender registry.
It comes when your child does something that you’re so embarrassed about, you debate moving to another state. Okay, he didn’t kill anyone, but ….
Yesterday Isaiah pulled down a little girl’s pants at day camp. I was horrified. All I could think of was this little girl being scared, embarrassed, crying. My husband and I talked to him both together and separately. He wrote a note to the girl that says, “Isaiah M. is sorry. To Emma” It’s a little backwards, but gets the point across. Oh, and did I mention that Emma is not a tom boy – she’s a shy, adorable, tiny little girl. You’d think he could at least pick on someone his own size!?
This morning I march him into day camp and go to the head instructor, and Isaiah apologizes to her. Then I ask for Emma and her parents, and her mom is CONVENIENTLY sitting there in the hallway. I’m ready to defend my little guy and explain that he’s not a malicious perv in training. Her mom was accepting of Isaiah’s apology, Isaiah gave Emma his note, and Emma’s mom had her give Isaiah a hug. We chatted for a bit, and I tried to explain that we obviously don’t condone such behavior. Then she tells me that their biggest problem with it was that Emma thought it was funny. She said that she has a 2 year old boy and for all she knows, it’ll be him doing it next week.
Sometimes I forget how understanding most parents are. Raising kids is kind of a universal experience, we’ve all seen and tackled the same issues. No one wants to be too rigid, only to be the one apologizing next time.
I’m just glad he didn’t end up on the pre-k offender registry.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Oh, My Balls!
While giving Belly a bath last night, he started repeating lines he's heard from movies, TV and Youtube. One of them had the word "testicles" in it. So I asked him if he knew what testicles are, and he said no.
Now, Belly's quite big enough to wash himself these days, my Mom duty is only to wash his hair and face so he doesn't blind himself. So I explained that his testicles are below his penis. Of course he got out of the water and yanked it up and said, "You mean these?"
"Yes, dear, I mean those."
He then asks for a run down of penis neighborhood parts and functions. Ever try to explain a urethra to a five year old? Do try, because it's great just to hear them repeat the word.
The he says that there's one more thing down there, but he doesn't know what it is. I ask what, and he says,
"Balls."
with such innocence and openness.
He was delighted to find out that balls are testicles, and to finally get what all the jokes mean when someone gets hit "in the balls."
(You may be asking WHY on earth my five year old would hear those jokes. Two words - Mike Meyers)
So at this point he's out of the bath and getting dried off and I'm trying in vain to get him to stop saying BALLS. So I told him it's not something to joke about, they're private parts. He retorts that private parts aren't BAD. Touche. So I said that it's not a word for kids to say.
Then the light bulb goes off over his mischievous little cherub head and he says, "I won't say it at school, and I won't say it in front of Daddy. I'll just tell you!"
Then he had one last request. "Can I say one more thing?", he asks.
"Sure," I say.
He crouches in classic ball-shot position and yells, "Oh, my balls!"
Oh, the many joys of raising male children!
Now, Belly's quite big enough to wash himself these days, my Mom duty is only to wash his hair and face so he doesn't blind himself. So I explained that his testicles are below his penis. Of course he got out of the water and yanked it up and said, "You mean these?"
"Yes, dear, I mean those."
He then asks for a run down of penis neighborhood parts and functions. Ever try to explain a urethra to a five year old? Do try, because it's great just to hear them repeat the word.
The he says that there's one more thing down there, but he doesn't know what it is. I ask what, and he says,
"Balls."
with such innocence and openness.
He was delighted to find out that balls are testicles, and to finally get what all the jokes mean when someone gets hit "in the balls."
(You may be asking WHY on earth my five year old would hear those jokes. Two words - Mike Meyers)
So at this point he's out of the bath and getting dried off and I'm trying in vain to get him to stop saying BALLS. So I told him it's not something to joke about, they're private parts. He retorts that private parts aren't BAD. Touche. So I said that it's not a word for kids to say.
Then the light bulb goes off over his mischievous little cherub head and he says, "I won't say it at school, and I won't say it in front of Daddy. I'll just tell you!"
Then he had one last request. "Can I say one more thing?", he asks.
"Sure," I say.
He crouches in classic ball-shot position and yells, "Oh, my balls!"
Oh, the many joys of raising male children!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Where's the Rum?!
Spent Friday having fancy scans done on my eyes, because I'm having some sight issues. Yah, sight, that thing you need to drive, work, etc. They didn't find anything that points to VKH (the rare condition I'd been diagnosed with in 2006) Now there are just no answers about why my eyes are acting all wonky. All I know is my vision is changing, and not in a good way.
I've decided, if I go blind, I'll have to give up my plan to become a teacher. Instead, I'll be a pirate. And I'll wear 2 eye patches. And because I can't see, I'll sail in circles.
My name will be Shipwreck. And I'll hang out with Johnny Depp, of course. Ah, I love a pirate who appreciates a good red wine.
I've decided, if I go blind, I'll have to give up my plan to become a teacher. Instead, I'll be a pirate. And I'll wear 2 eye patches. And because I can't see, I'll sail in circles.
My name will be Shipwreck. And I'll hang out with Johnny Depp, of course. Ah, I love a pirate who appreciates a good red wine.
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