Friday, March 28, 2008

Too Bad I'm a Diplomatic Type

Because it would have really have been fun to mess with the alpha mom I ran into this week.

Seriously, I was thinking of all sorts of alternate comments to make rather than the pacifist ones I did make. And if perhaps I'd known this woman better, well, then I would have...but since I didn't I just kept the peace.

So now, I'm gonna dish the dirt with ya'll because this woman? Un-freaking-believeable.


First a few background details...


LMNOB's school does birthday celebrations once a month. They do a fun little thing for all the kids whose birthdays fall that month in the cafeteria, then the whole class gets in on the sugar high with a classroom celebration. A sign-up list is put out by the teacher at the beginning of the year and parents stake their claims on when they would prefer to bring in the obligatory cupcakes and punch.

I signed up for the March b'day celebration, right? In August, mind you.


Well Monday I get an e-mail from Ms. M reminding me that I'm up for b'day treats, but ThisGirl's mom had mentioned that she would like to help out, here's her e-mail, is that ok?


I reply all that sure it is ok - thanks for the help. Get the classroom number of kiddos and e-mail ThisGirl's mom to ask if she just wanted to split the goods 1/2 and 1/2?


Well, actually, she already had all the stuff for cupcakes and she was wondering if I would just bring drinks. Did I know, that ThisGirl's b'day was today? And did I have a March b'day kiddo too, having signed up for the March b'day?


:Insert the first alternate snark here: Oh really? Well damn if this is your version of "helping out," then I'd hate to see your "taking over the damned world."


Yeah, I could bring something fun for the kids to drink. Yes, LMNOB's b'day was March 1 and she'd really wanted me to be involved with the b'day celebration.


:insert more snark here: And I, despite being a WOHM, actually am an involved parent who likes doing this kind of stuff.


:also: So do you want to break the news to LMNOB that you just stole the b'day treats show from her mother? Because I think there will be tears, and since I'm not the one who instigated this I think you would be the perfect informant! I guess ThisGirl is a first rate citizen who matters more than LMNOB, is that the way it goes? Bowing down.


Oh, well did I know that Ms. M prefers CLEAR LIQUIDS so as to avoid stains. She'd brought in capri suns before and that worked VERY WELL. Oh, and I should avoid anything RED, you know the dyes do weird things to the kids and that is a hard way for parents to start the weekend.


:eye roll and hands up in the air: Is your name Barbie, Martha, or June perchance? In other words, are you for freaking real? I don't even know you and you've managed to control exactly what I am doing here.


Sure, sure....I get the clear thing, and yes, I'm aware of food dyes, particularly reds and yellows, impacting kids' behavior. I'd thought to do almond punch, a family favorite that is an all natural, light citrus punch, but you know :insert passive aggression here: since you are so full of great and helpful suggestions, maybe I ought to go the capri sun route.


Oh, no - the punch sounds delightful! Bring that. So, LMNOB's had to wait a whole month for the b'day celebration? I don't think ThisGirl could have waited that long! See you Friday!


:snarky mcfarklepants sez: Probably not, in fact I bet she would have just DIED if she had to suck it up and, oh, WAIT. That's what happens when we cater to our childrens' every desire, or wait, is that superior parenting of the alpha mom?

WTF? I mean this woman was SUCH a pretender to the b'day goodie throne for the day. Then she just bulldozed her way in.

Turns out when I broke the news to LMNOB that I was not bringing cupcakes to the class, she DID cry. And it made me wish that I'd just said, "Whoa there, somebody needs some reigns lady. I signed up 7 months ago for this rite, back up and play second fiddle. You can bring some capri suns," instead of being a pansy.

Instead, I told her, "Well, hey...I was going to do cupcakes AND almond punch - and if ThisGirl's mom had brought drinks, why, we wouldn't be able to make our supper yummy secret family punch recipe! So, of course she is bringing cupcakes! You can help me make the punch, ok?"

And that was pretty much that.

Today, bringing the goods in, alpha mom's cupcakes were pathetic, which brought me great joy. The punch was a hit. Alpha mom barely even made eye contact with me, and managed to talk Ms. M's ear off to the point that I never even got to kill her with kindness with introductions.

And at that point I just thought, "I am a bigger person than she is."

And that was that.

Besides, as Ms. M and I were talking later, she said, "At the risk of sounding cliche and cheesey, it is such a gift that LMNOB has you for parents. You guys are amazing with your efforts at home, the communication with me, and just your involvement. I know many parents who spend more time with their kids, but are so far behind you in the quality. Thank you, it makes my job much easier."

After that, how could I even feel remotely badly?





© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Operation Tooth Pulling....

Two stubborn baby teeth outta there to give that big new one some room.

No pain.

No freakouts.

Teacher and OT alerted that sensory input should be upped so as to prevent residual meltdowns.

Success.

Relief.



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

It's Pretty Much Like This

One of the things about blogging that I love is how we are able to connect with people going through the exact same thing so magically. I found Mir shortly after I first started blogging, and her experiences with her son, Monkey, really helped when we were looking to get LMNOB evaluated last year. She's one of those people I think of as a "super-blogger," i.e. she has a huge following, multiple blogs, and manages to make a living doing it... at the time, approaching a super-blogger was a bit intimidating for a small-timer like myself, but she had common threads that I needed to explore. So I did, and I was not disappointed. She was very helpful, very informative, and so supportive!

Many of you have asked about how LMNOB is doing, since there hasn't been an update in awhile regarding her sensory issues.

And the answer is, we're doing really, really well.

Most of the time.

Last month we did swim lessons and that really helped with 1.) adding to her sensory diet, 2.) strengthening her core, and 3.) her confidence levels. Going underwater was a challenge for her, but when Punkinhead began to master it (read: show off constantly) her competitive nature aided her in testing the [under]waters.

We're done now, and after having been sick we had some "re-entry" issues with getting back to our routine. And now again, after a holiday weekend - but here's where things have dramatically improved, she's aware that she needs stimulation and is getting better at seeking it out herself, without the structured activity. She was a dream this weekend...with the exception of this one time where she crapped her pants - and really on that one, I think it was laziness more than sensory-related.

But, she's met all of her goals in her treatment plan with the OT-

1. Strengthen the core, thereby increasing awareness of elimination urges and decreasing accidents. Despite the incident above, we have made great strides here...LMNOB has been Pull-Up free for about a month now, and dry each night!

2. Increase tactile, proprioceptive, oral, and vestibular input with goal of eliminating the superfits.

3. Increase upper body strength - the girl has gone from barely hanging on a bar for 10 seconds to being more than able to hang for a minute.

But the social stuff, the confrontational speech issues still baffle me. I don't know how to help that at this point, besides just talk, talk, talking it all out.

Thing is, life isn't always routine. Sometimes it deviates from schedule and well, LMNOB regresses a bit. And other times, there is no rhyme or reason and LMNOB regresses. It's exhausting trying to anticipate and prevent meltdowns, because there isn't always a pattern, and sometimes the trigger is out of my control. And that's just when I catch it.

Other times, I miss the signs. Completely. I'd tell you what that's like, but Mir just did a beautiful job the other day.

Monkey has been doing really well. REALLY WELL. He has hit his stride at school and is doing well with his friends and being sweet and charming and everything I associate with the very heart of my sweet, tender son.

At least, he was.

See, I knew that the orthodontia was going to be hard for him. I knew that as a “sensory kid” he would experience more pain than a kid who is not wired a little wonky when it comes to sensory input. I knew there would be an adjustment period.

And then he wouldn’t eat. And he wouldn’t drink. And while I spent the week trying to get him to consume something—anything—I missed it. I just completely missed it.

He started eating again (a little) and I rejoiced and asked if he was feeling better and he said yes and so I STILL missed it, because I wanted to believe we were on the road to recovery and the hard part was over.

The occupational therapist once described kids like Monkey to me as as pitcher that can hold a finite amount of liquid (or sensory input). Each addition to the pitcher raises the liquid level, and normal people both don’t experience that input as being such large amounts and are better at “pouring off” when necessary. Kids with sensory integration problems experience every input as a huge cup poured into the pitcher, and find themselves overflowing in very short order.

Well, you know, we’d worked out a great system, here. Monkey does his occupational therapy, he takes his anti-anxiety meds when he needs them, and for the most part he’s on a pretty even keel.

Then he got his devices put in, and now there’s all this pressure in his mouth.

Then at soccer practice this week, someone’s dog managed to circle him and wrap the leash around his legs and it cut him a couple of places.

Then he started eating again, but still not really enough, and so he’s constantly complaining of hunger but unwilling to try to eat more.

This kid’s pitcher has been overflowing all week and I missed it.


Like LMNOB sometimes does, Monkey had a series of freakouts. And the sheer frustration of being on guard all the time, only to have a trigger slip under the radar, made Mir cry. And then Monkey felt bad.

The end to Mir's post just made me want to cuddle them, and my own LMNOB and say, "Damn neurological quirks! Why must you torment us?"


“Is your mouth still hurting?” I prompted. “Is something ELSE hurting? I gave you some Motrin, you know.”

He nodded against my shoulder. “My head,” he cried. He sat up and wiped his eyes and looked right at me for the first time all day. “My head, Mama. It hurts. It hurts so much, it’s so LOUD all the time. The Motrin doesn’t help fix loud. When it’s so loud I get MAD.”

At that point it feels like there’s nothing left to say, because the volume in his head is turned up to 11 thanks to the sensory overload in his mouth, and when I look at it that way, no wonder he’s so angry. On the other hand, he can’t go around having tantrums and hitting people, and he knows it; and yet here we are.

So I didn’t say anything, I just held him and wrapped us up in a blanket and rocked him and stroked his hair and hoped that maybe for a minute or two, things were quieter for my baby.

And that's pretty much what it's like.

Thankfully, it's not always like that.

But the fact that it is that way a fair amount of the time is heartbreaking.

And, I write this on the verge of April, when my schedule goes wonky. Also, LMNOB is having a tooth pulled tomorrow.

I am not sure what to expect besides some serious bumps.

Time to buckle up, Buttercup.




© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Monday, March 24, 2008

Oh, Yes, I am a Quick Witted One

I had a Eureka moment in the truck on the way back to the Fort last night...

I was pissed off at myself for yet another holiday weekend spent with quiet ambivalence.

Easter is supposed to be a happy holiday, Heather.

It is supposed to be about the event on which your entire faith is based - the resurrection - and even when you lose sight of that, it's still food, family and fun, so what the hell is your problem?

Why is Easter so damned melancholy for you each year? Why...

It was about here when a memory cued. Not one of those recovered memories that would spark a debate for years to come, but a surging remembrance of something I have often wished I could forget.

It was me walking, up a hill. Crying, feeling like a daughter scorned.

I can't believe she let him talk to me like that.

I'm out of here.

Then, my inner voice had a field day taunting me.

Holy shit, Heather, if this isn't a "Duh, freaking duh," moment. It's taken you this long to put together. And I thought you were an insightful person. Had you pegged wrong.

It had been our first Easter with OJ, the first one since Mom and the kids' dad had split.

He'd pulled a big giant baby routine and refused to go to my family's annual shindig, hosted by my uncle and his family this year, just blocks away from the house Mom and OJ had rented that fall. His reasoning: It's not my family.

Mom said suit yourself and we went and had a great time. My aunt T had moved away that year, and we were all glad to see her and my little cousin, who'd lived with us the first few years of her life. When we decided to mosey on back to the house, we took the cousins, my uncle's oldest boy and my aunt's girl, back for a family play date. My aunt had said she'd swing by later and pick them up.

So the kids were all playing outside in the yard when I was told by a whiskeyed up OJ that I needed to get the damned laundry done. He'd been using his time wisely while we'd been gone, I saw.

I got to it and proceeded to fold laundry on the living room table. Just as I was finishing up, my aunt pulled in. I went out to bid them goodbye with everyone else, and when I came back inside, all of the neat piles of laundry had been knocked over and now lay in a ramshackled mess on the floor.

In all of my infiinite wisdom (I was just shy of my 14th birthday, full of resentment over our still relatively new living arrangement, and not afraid to mince my words), I hollered at OJ, "What the hell is your problem?"

He came out, eyes blazing - almost with gratitude, as now he had a perfect excuse to fly off his handle. "This room was a fucking mess. There was laundry shit everywhere."

I shook my head, "It is now - thanks to you! That laundry was FOLDED, in PILES, and READY TO BE PUT AWAY! And because I'm not an anti-social bastard like you, I thought I could step away for a second to say goodbye to my family, that is not yours, before putting it up."
With tears, I started to pick up the articles of clothing and start the madness over when my mom walked in.

She was taken aback and questioned what had happened. You'd have thought she was questioning two siblings, not a 28 year old man and his 14 y/o pseudo-step-daughter, with the he-said, she-said response that she was given from us. [sidebar - I'm reading this now, 12 years after I originally wrote it and the numbers for the ages of the adults in my teenage years is blowing my damned mind. I mean - I had Kelsey young, but when she was 14, I was in my mid-30s!] 

"She's a fucking little lazy bitch," he slurred.

"Oh FUCK YOU!" I screamed back at him. Then, at my mom, "I don't know what you see in him, anyway."

Mom mouthed, "OUT" at me and I gladly obliged. She was at least upset with OJ over this and was giving him what for.

I went out alright. By now the kids had heard the fighting and had moved on to playing in the church parking lot across the street. Their eyes were big and questioning, but I kept walking.

Up the hill, I walked. I had every intention of going to the home of my newly acquired "bad-girl" friend. My face burned with the salty discharge pouring out of my eyes. I became absorbed by my thoughts, and wasn't even paying attention to where my feet were taking me.

And then I was there.

At my uncle's house.

WTAF?!?  I felt betrayed by my body - I hadn't wanted to "do the right thing." I'd wanted to go somewhere where I could piss away my anger via some illicit activity, with minimal parental supervision - a haven with which my friend's house would have afforded plenty of opportunity to do just that.

My aunt J answered the door and immediately took me in. Relations between OJ and my uncle were already strained, at best. As I recounted what had happened, my uncle was interjecting with all sorts of cruderies, "I'm gonna rip his limp dick off and beat him with it," and the like. Yeah, I come from a lineage of super "klassy" kinfolk.

They called over at the house to let mom know I was alright.

No answer.

Dial again....

No answer.

Enter my own guilt.

If I hadn't been so mouthy.

If I'd just refolded the laundry.

If I'd stayed I could be helping her.

Then outside the corner of my eye, there was mom, driving up the street in the old Nova, with all the kids piled in.

There had been a struggle for her keys, when it became clear the fight was going nowhere.

And he'd chased her around the house with his gun.

Somehow, she'd made it. Safely.

The rest is a blur...tears, yelling, adrenaline...

Seems like the police were called. Seems like they locked the gun cabinet, keeping the key, while Mom grabbed some of our clothes to take back to my uncle's.

Seems like the very next day we stayed home from school, in crisis mode. And mom was missing when I woke up. I asked my aunt where she was and she said, "She went back to the house to talk with OJ."

Admittedly, I cannot say with 100% certainty if the following remainder of the memory is accurate or is something my mind made up. In other words, I don't remember if I really experienced the following, or if I just filled the gaps in my memory with assumptions.

But what sticks in my mind is the distinct impression that I actually went back to the house, walked in and heard them having sex.

Whether that part happened on that exact day, I can't actually say. It did eventually. Just six months later, we were moving 1,200 miles away from family with him.

Mom and OJ stayed together for another 10 years. And given his struggles with alcoholism and mental illness, countless more holidays were ruined.

But Easter of 1993 was the first one. And while I know that he was the adult and I was the child, thus fault lies with him, I played a role in it. Justifiably or not, I've claimed some of the guilt for that one.

Amazingly, this was the first Easter in the 14 since that day that I made the connection between my shitty mood and the events so long ago.

I'm quick like that.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Oh, Tarzhay...You Disappointed Me This Time

I love your shoes.

So stylish, so affordable, and usually good wearing.

Last night I bought these lovelies for a wedding we will be attending tonight.

I now have a ginormous blister from the peep-toe edge cutting into my big left toe.

Ouch.





© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

How This All Got Started...

Eight years ago, I was not yet pregnant with Kelsey, and just about to turn 21.

I thought I had my future all mapped out. I had the hubs, had gotten some great "real-world" experience working at CSU's Financial Aid office through school, and had only to get thru summer school and the next fall semester before I would be the first in my family to graduate with a college degree. The icing on that cake was that I was looking into and preparing to appy for graduate programs. I was gonna BE someone, damn it!

On July 3, 2000 - that all changed.

At a time in my life where everyone else was so proud to flash their ID in a public place, to be able to drink and live it up, the only ale I was drinking was ginger - kept the morning sickness at bay.

Most women I know talk wistfully about their pregnancies like they were their personal "best of times, and the worst of times," with all the awe-struck, romantic notions of motherhood and physical discomforts.

It was a time that was lonely as hell for me.

My peers did not remotely have the same reference as I suddenly faced. I had no friends from high-school, having been "the new kid" that didn't fit the mold.

I was scared witless about our financial future. This baby had not been in the cards, man - I was supposed to have graduated, gotten further education, and landed a healthy salary as a psychologist before we even thought about having kids. Ha! The joke was on me...

So I ventured into the still young, mysterious space known as the world wide web, and found a niche. Ivillage had a message board for women who were expecting babies due in March, 2001. I was the next-to-youngest girl on the board, but these women took me in and rode the turbulent sea of hormones that is pregnancy with me.

After the babies were all born, some of us descended into the depths of post-partum depression, we all stuggled with the transition of adding a new family member. Some of us experienced the hell of divorce; others felt achingly empty after their new babies, that they'd grown with us, closed their eyes for the last time, never to be held by their mamas again. Some of us mourned the loss of our dreams of their baby's "normal" life when the word "Autism" escaped the doctors' lips. We proudly relayed each milestone, worried together, and just were there for each other like friends are. Many of us went on to have subsequent babies, and have said that other boards, "weren't quite the same."

Eight years later, we've dropped the "IRL" friends distinction, and call a spade a spade. We're truly sisters, related through motherhood. Some of us are closer than others. Some have disappeared. But we're all still in this together. Because of and through the internet, I have a set of friends who've known me longer than anyone else excepting my family has. Who'd have thunk it?

But even so......

My marriage is so not perfect. (It has since improved, however). I don't know anyone's whose is, but when yours is in constant upheaval and others are just so...."normal?" a message board just doesn't seem to be the suitable place to process it.

...and....

I still haven't figured out what I want to be when I grow up, or who God wants me to be, and just how to reconcile those two yet. Those are conversations that don't juxtapose with ease right next to discussions about sippy cups, Pull-ups, and time-outs.

...and....

I am prone to depression - a perfect nature and nurture cocktail of family heredity plus family history makes me a certifiable loon from time to time. And while mental health has its place on a parenting board, it isn't always a fit, ya know? Two years ago, I hit the hardest depression I've experienced thus far in life - and I've had some doozies - and I decided I needed an outlet.

Not a journal - journaling for me has always been one-dimensional. I'm a pretty self-aware person, and to write down on paper what I already know and leave it at that....well, it's always fallen a bit flat for me.

I visited an ivillage friend's blog, and fell in love with this new medium where others can validate, debate, and just acknowledge your thoughts.

And thus, here I am.

Shallow or deep.

Sane or insane.

Secular or Spiritual.

Parenting or Seeking Myself.

Happy or Sad.

Fair or Unfair.

One-Sided or Balanced.

Plain Jane Writing or Aspiring Novelist.

Just a Person or I'm Going to Be Someone Damn It!

Take Me As I AM or Trying on Some New Friends.

And here are all of you.

Just like my March 01 Mommies, I have my Bloggies, and you ARE important...You keep me sane, buoyed, encouraged, entertained, informed, and so much more!

I'm wishing myself a happy 2nd Bloggiversary, ya'll. C'mon in and join the party.

Befuddled

I don’t get it.

Maybe you, dear internets, do. Please read the following e-mail exchange and let me know what you think.

Date: Monday, March 11th
From:
HeatherMeyer@workemail.com
To:
MysterPerson@Agency.org
Subject: 2008 Grant Process
Importance: High

Hi MysteryPerson,

I am working on a draft presentation schedule for the City’s grant process, and have tentatively scheduled Mystery Person’s Agency’s presentation for Monday, April 7th. Presentations made on April 7th will be scheduled to run between the hours of 5:30 PM – 8:30 PM, and you will be notified at a later date with the location and specific timeslot you have been scheduled for.

If you could, please confirm your availability to make your presentation before the Human Services Commission on this date, I would greatly appreciate it. Also, if there is a preferred time I will take that into consideration; however, due to the volume of presentations being made, we may not be able to accommodate all requests.

Thank you for your timely response!

Heather Meyer
----------------------------------

Date: Tuesday, March 12th
From:
MysterPerson@Agency.org
To:
HeatherMeyer@workemail.com
Subject: Read: spam: 2008 Grant Process

Your message was read on Wednesday, March 12, 2008 11:26:57 AM (GMT-07:00) Mountain Time (US & Canada).
--------------------------------------------------------

Date: Thursday, March 13th
From:
HeatherMeyer@workemail.com
To: 100+ representatives from various agencies (read: scheduling is a bitch!)
Subject: 2008 Human Services Grant Application Hearings
Importance: High

Hello agencies!

Hopefully, you are all breathing easier today, now that the deadline has come and passed.

As you are aware, I have been in contact with you all this week regarding presentation dates. I have heard back from the vast majority of folks regarding dates that work/don’t work, and have finalized the schedule accordingly. I have attached the hearings schedule to this e-mail. Please find your agency’s name/proposal and note the date, time, and location for your presentation.

As many of you are new to our process, here’s how the presentations work:

Presentations are your chance to bring your application to life before the Human Services Commission. You will have 20 minutes total, per presentation slot – presentations are to be no more than 15 minutes in length, and will be followed by 5 minutes for questions that the Commissioners may have.

No Power Point, please.

You may bring handouts and other informational materials about your agency and/or program. Please bring 15 copies of each item.

You may bring clients to provide “testimonials” at your presentation; however, per above, please be mindful of time constraints. As evidenced by the schedule, we have a tremendous amount of agencies participating in the process, which means we must stick to the allotted times.

If there are questions that require advance preparation to answer, I will contact you 24 hours prior to your presentation – this will usually be via e-mail, so please be sure to check for questions the day before your
presentation
.

Finally, the time disclaimer. Yes, I know many of these slots are late. I will be there too, all month long, ;-) Please understand that someone has to go last, and if that is your agency this year, we are sensitive to that. In addition to accommodating for fundraisers and other important events, I try to rotate presentations as fairly as possible. If your agency had an early presentation last year, you likely have a late one this year, and vice versa.

If you have any further questions, please let me know and I am more than happy to assist.

Heather Meyer
-----------------------------------------------

Date: Friday, March 14th
From:
MysterPerson@Agency.org
To:
HeatherMeyer@workemail.com
Subject: Re: spam: 2008 Human Services Grant Application
Hearings

Heather,

Agency is actually on spring break for that entire week. Would it be possible to schedule a presentation the week prior or after?

Thank you.

Mystery Person
------------------------------------------

Date: Friday, March 14th
From:
MysterPerson@Agency.org
To:
HeatherMeyer@workemail.com
Subject: Re: spam: 2008 Human Services Grant Application
Hearings

MysteryPerson,

I am really sorry, but this is the finalized schedule. Because I received a read receipt from you on Tuesday but had not heard back, I assumed that the proposed date would work. At this point, the vast majority of agencies have confirmed their availability and I have already sent schedules out to the printers.

If the presentation date is too problematic, it may be worth noting that agencies are not required to make a presentation and can be considered solely on the basis of their application.

Thank you!

Heather Meyer
------------------------------------------------------

Date: Tuesday, March 18th
From: MysterPerson@Agency.org
To:
HeatherMeyer@workemail.com
Subject: Re: spam: 2008 Human Services Grant Application
Hearings

Heather,

Wow. I read the initial email seeing this was a draft, and that I would respond after I got through my 2 grants I was working on last week. As I mentioned, this is our Spring Break and I will be out of town. Would another agency be willing to trade spots?

Mystery Person

I do not get it. It was a draft, on Monday. But people actually have to read these applications that came in, which means I need to get them distributed ASAP. Thus, when all the people who had "absolutely not" dates contacted me IMMEDIATELY, and when I took into account all of the read receipts with actual responses, I felt confident with the FINAL schedule.

So again I say – I don’t friggin’ get it.

For one, if you knew that a grantor who paid a sizable chunk of your payroll year after year had a process that included presentations which might coincide with your travel plans, wouldn’t you be vocal about that in a timely fashion? Maybe even, I don’t know, I’m going out on a limb here, before such an accommodating scheduling attempt was made? I had a few agencies that did just that, so it’s not unheard of. Also, see “may not be able to accommodate all requests” statement in my original e-mail.

For two, when these agencies present to the United Way, the dates they are given to do so are non-negotiable. So why would you complain, virtually kicking a gift-horse in the mouth, when your own delay to communicate with a grantor who tries to accommodate everyone’s needs was the reason you didn’t get what you needed wanted?

For three, ALREADY BEEN SENT TO PRESS. Methinks Mystery Person could stand to take a gander at the 1.) cost of this process, 2.) thickness of the books, which are in presentation order, and thereby changing it up now would really create chaos, and 3.) the fact that the universe does not in fact revolve around Mystery Person.

For real, I just want to say, "I'm sorry you had plans. I couldn't even make plans for Spring Break with my daughter, who is also on break that week, because I had to help staff this damned process. Life's a bitch sometimes, eh?"

Every year, I am astounded by the audacity of folks who don’t get their ways. It is so ironic to me that every one of them is in the field of helping people, a field in which compassion goes a long way – and then they are rude to people trying to help them.



© 2008
Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Monday, March 17, 2008

Moved by St. Patrick's Words

In effort to demonstrate that St. Paddy's day is more than a green beer-fest, allow me to share with you some excerpts from the legendary man's Lorica:


I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness Of the Creator of creation.
I arise today Through the strength of Christ's birth and His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension...

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of the sun,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of the wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of the earth,
Firmness of the rock.

I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me;
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's hosts to save me
From snares of the devil,
From temptations of vices,
From every one who desires me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone or in a mulitude...

Christ with me,
Christ before me,
Christ behind me,
Christ in me,
Christ beneath me,
Christ above me,
Christ on my right,
Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down,
Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through a confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation

--St. Patrick (ca. 377)

It's a soul food of sorts, along with the corned beef in my slow cooker....



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Friday, March 14, 2008

If I Were a SuperHero...

I would somehow be able to make time stand still in those inevitable weeks of catch-up, so that I could, you know, actually catch up?

I missed a week of work last week due to the nefarious bug known as Influenza, aka In Flew Inz A BigAssed Monkey Wrench to My Tightly Scheduled World.

Then, on top of missing work, I got behind in my studies with school. I mean, my head was swimming over the fact that I really did have to get up and care for two children when all my body really wanted to do was curl into fetal position, suck my thumb and wait for this pain to end - had I attempted to read about leadership, organizational cultures, informal authority v. formal, et cet er a, I think I would have spontaneously combusted. So I didn't.

And now, I am paying. Dearly.

My gut has been in a knot all week. Because usually, I just forego sleep when I've got to get to the grindstone and bust my chops. But this week, my body has said, "Oh hell to the no, sistah, you need friggin' sleep," and I'm snoring by 9:00. Which means - the extras, the catch-up? So not happenin'.

Oh, oh, oh, and then guess what? Grant applications were due Wednesday. Which means I am swimming in a SEA of paperwork, scheduling logistics, and dealing with rude people. And the Boss happened to schedule her vacay this week and next. So I'm going it alone.

And so, I really, really wish that I could just freeze time, whip through all this stuff, and have everything signed, sealed, and delivered. ON TIME.

But, seeing that I am a mere mortal afterall, and not SuperMama, alas! I cannot. And it pisses me off. Moreover, it leaves me feeling like I can do little more but dribble my lips with my finger like a looney tune.



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Monday, March 10, 2008

Behind the 8-Ball

Dear LMNOB,


You turned 7 over a week ago.

I don't know how that is possible, seeing how a blink ago you were 9 months old, dolled up for your first Christmas:

And I have yet to write you a letter for your birthday.

But, I made you heart-shaped grilled cheese and tomato soup for Valentine's Day, and threw you a party that you said was "The BEST birthday, E.V.E.R! Mama!!!!" so hey, I think it is ok, right? You're a good girl like that, cutting Mama some slack.

Honey, this past year was a wild and crazy ride, and really, isn't that what life is? I see no evidence that this ride is gonna be letting up anytime soon. Like I always say in the car, "You better buckle up Buttercup," life's just getting bumpy.


Last spring was what I like to call "The beginning of the rest of your life." I know you are sensitive about being different, and Baby Doll, I just have to say that I'm so glad that people know about your kind of different because it has changed our lives. For the better.


You are blossoming so much, my little lady.


Socially, you're branching out. Having those first awkward moments with boys - which by the way, ought to stay awkward for a good long while just yet, for like, 20 more years, ok? Getting invited to parties, called out in the grocery stores, and just plain being acknowledged for the fabulously spunky little gal that you are. It's building your confidence, too. And I'm glad. I hope you always know, without a doubt that you are special just the way you are.


And actual growth? Dang girl, you've got legs. ZZ Top is gonna make a comeback just for you, kiddo. Where'd you get those things, anyway? Certainly not from me, or your father for that matter.

Your academic development astounds me. Last year at this time you read a word here and there. Now? You're reading my childhood classics, and some newbies as well. I'm loving this literary trip down memory lane, and I hope you continue to enjoy reading. It will take you far. Spelling, art, and science are your other favorites at school, and you are quite good at them, too. For whatever reason, gender biases be damned, you're not too keen on math. Oh, you've got all the abilities necessary, dear, for when you sit and actually take the time you ace through your math exercises. But you've gotten it into your pretty little blonde head that you're no good at math - stop that, alright?!? I think that you're a bit like me, and because math doesn't come to you with your eyes closed, like reading, that you grow impatient with it. You'll get there, trust me. Just keep working at it, babe.

Emotionally, you're my little wise one. And you know it, too, which makes you a consummate big sister (read: bossy little girl). That just makes me love you more, because I once knew a bossy little girl who also was an older sister ;o) . But when you're not trying to advance your unsolicited advice to others, you're listening, thinking, absorbing what's going on around you. And when I least expect it, your take on these happenings comes out via your artwork, writing, or conversations...these translations of your realities are surprisingly profound, usually have a spiritual tie-in of sorts, and make me so proud of the thoughtful person you are.

You're dabbling in new hobbies, from swimming to karaoke to riding without training wheels, and it's exciting to watch you discover new capabilities, likes, and dislikes. I know that I need to embrace that now, while it is fresh to me, for the years of constant experimentation (tweens/teens) loom in the not-so-distant future.

Last week, despite being so craptastically ill, I was thrilled to hold you, feel your heavy body on my lap while I breathed in your apple-shampooed hair, reading to you, and comfort you with the relief that Tylenol and Motrin can't hold a candle to: that feeling of closeness that will make you audibly call for me some day when you're sick, but grown and living somewhere else. You might laugh to think of yourself calling for Mommy as an adult, but you will, whether you're down with a flu bug or in the throes of childbirth, you will. For now, I take solace in that you are still a small, albeit ever-growing child, and that I can comfort you with ease.

I love you so much, LMNOB. I wish you a very lucky number seven this year.

Love,

Mama



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Things are Clearing Up

I now have a raspy cough that usually expels the drainage that has been drip, drip, dripping oh so stealthily in the post nasal canals into my lungs. Said drainage is clear, not green, which means no infection, no need for antibiotics. But, said drainage is still quite foul and gag-a-rific, given my inability to hock a loogie with ease.

The kids are restless now, and picking on one another again. All this week had been rather pleasant, as they were all docile and cuddly and "Mommy I just weeeeeed youwr wuv." And putting themselves to bed at 6:30.

Yesterday Charlie Brown mustered up the energy to go to Blockbuster and rent them a movie...and a game for him. I must say that despite getting into it myself, 8 hours of MX v. ATV Unleashed was a bit much for me to watch. So I attempted school work.

Speaking of, I do need to get to work on a paper - it was due yesterday, but upon hearing the flu verdict and knowing the insane amounts of sleep we'd be pursuing, I asked for an extension, which the instructor gladly gave.

I've had lots of blog-worthy fodder milling around this head of mine, but no cohesive glue with which to assemble these thoughts into a readable post. Soon, my dear internets, soon.


© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

What a Worthless Prick

That is, the flu shot I got in December.

Because, according to my family doc, Charlie Brown and I both have "an influenza like illness." She opted not to swab us, mercifully - as that shiz hurts like a mofo, because even if we tested influenza positive, we were too far gone for Tamiflu to really impact us.

Instead, we are OTC junkies. And taking Percocet for the relentless body aches.

The kids have been sick too, but they got a much better bill of health from their doc today.

I just want my health back - this sucks.




© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved