my soft spot

just a mom who plays hockey and knits

Friday, December 30, 2005

Some good things.

First, my car is paid off! I didn't expect this--in college, I was told this is an OBOB, an Off By One Bug. The loan started in January, so I thought the last payment would be in January. But it was this month! $148/month to go toward the France trip (which may be postponed to 2008 if I can't manage to get G to go on a successful overnight). Yay!

Next,

Thursday, December 29, 2005

QOTD: What should I do for my birthday?

I had a fleeting moment of bliss today when I thought we had a Green game on my birthday. Just checked the schedule, and nope: we have one on 1/24 and one on 2/5. Crap. Will any of my hockey friends at least be playing on 1/29?

Probably doesn't matter, as our church's annual meeting is scheduled for that day. Can get lively (as it did last year, when I decided that I was the Church Troublemaker for challenging a vote of "Oh, we can't audit the books, so let's just not even try, again"--what crap!), but is generally tedious, long, and dull. Hm, great way to spend your birthday, eh?

The only thing that could make it worse would be if it were Super Bowl Sunday. Then again, if it were SBS, they probably wouldn't have scheduled the effing meeting that day.

So now I'm considering hiring a babysitter for hours on end on the 28th and going and doing something. Ideas?

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Look carefully.


Look carefully. You may see a sweet puppy who's just perfect for your home. Look deeper. See the teeth that will chew your cupboards, your baseboards, your toothbrush? See the lithe body that will whip out the front door given the slightest chance, sending you, panicked, down the street, hoping the little whippersnapper doesn't get KILLED in the busy traffic? See the neck, ready to give you whiplash as she pulls so hard on the leash with no break? See the tail that will knock your wine glass off the coffee table faster than you can scream, "Sit!"?

Beware. Looks like a puppy; is the spawn of Satan. Satan, I tell you!

You may think it's been 11 yrs since Max was a puppy... I'm here to swear I remember it all. So clearly. Anyone know of an 8 yr old Lab up for adoption?

(the above puppy is offered through a Rescue group. Don't worry; she'll be placed in some unsuspecting fool's house in no time. Don't do it, man!)

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

It all went very well.

We ended up having a great Christmas after all. My sister said I had to confront my mom and say, "I don't like your hurtful behavior and you need to change it" or some such. This is the sort of confrontation that ends up with my mom weeping and nothing changing. Ever. Instead, when she would do her schizophrenic behavior ("Now, you don't get a daily newspaper, right?" "No, but Maddy needs a walk; I'll get one at the corner store" "NO, I don't want one!"), I would call her on it. She settled down and graciously accepted the paper (and Maddy was THRILLED with the walk and I was very happy to just out of the house without anyone else with me, well, except Maddy, who is always good company). I did that a few times and things got better, although I lost the battle of trying to have her sleep in my room on my good mattress with a door that keeps out the noise. Still a little stunned that she preferred tucking sheets into the folded-up hide-a-bed every night instead. (sigh) Whatever.

Christmas eve, we went to the evening service at our church, where I played handbells and sang and sat to watch the Christmas pageant and played handbells. And then went home. It started excitingly, where I sat on the Reserved pews with another choir-singer, quietly chatting while we waited for the services to begin... when the choir director quietly stole up to us and said, rather calmly, "You're supposed to be up in the balcony, playing bells, right now." Took the entire first song for my breathing to get back to normal, Ah tell you whut.

Then we went to my uncle's house up in the hills above Montclair and had a wonderful dinner with him and my aunt and her mother-in-law, who was very hard-of-hearing. My cousin arrived a little bit later and did very well communicating with the MIL, bless her. I never seem to be able to make myself understood. G opened his present from my uncle & aunt; a Nicktoons kind of mini-Playstation. Has 4 video games in it; you just plunk in 4 batteries and off you go. You can buy a Game Key to "unlock" other games in it.

Then home to await "Santa." G fell asleep pretty easily, Thank God, because I didn't want to wake up at 4AM to fill stockings. The damned brass stocking holders fell off the mantel probably 4 times (for 3 holders), once on my hand and once on my foot. G never woke up; phew.

Christmas morning, we leisurely opened our plentiful gifts and ate yummy (expensive!) turnovers from the local little bakery (pumpkin, orange almond, and apple). I got tons of things on my list! G was thrilled that Santa brought him some dinosaurs, the only thing on his list of 3 that he got (robot and jack-in-the-box were the other 2). Moved slowly the rest of the day and finally jetted out at 4PM to catch Albertson's before it closed for some steaks for Christmas dinner.

A very nice Christmas.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

I love my mother.

I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother I love my mother.

But holy crap, how quickly and easily they can push one's buttons. I had been thinking, good think my mom isn't nearly as annoying as Andrea's is. Funny how effective denial is, eh?

Actually, it's a lot better today. She came (to stay here) Thursday evening. We were ready to pick up the carving knives within the first half hour.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

All that free time

Well, I'm working a bit today, partly to save my PTO* and partly to get some stuff done. I'll be leaving soon (am praying that the rain lessens, as Smartchick Me forgot a jacket of any kind) and wrapping presents. G continues to enjoy Y-kids, so why take him out till I have to?

Mum gets back from her quick trip to my aunt's mountain cabin today. Maybe we'll finally get a Xmas tree this aft. Not sure what we'll do tonight, but Skein Lane with Sami tomorrow! Yeah!

Geez. I'm freezing. Did someone's husband finally do the dishes, and hell is freezing over or something?

Oh, crud. Raining even harder. That's OK. I can run real fast.

*PTO = personal time off. My company's substitution for vacation/sick leave. At 10+ yrs here, I get something like 6 weeks in a year. So if I'm not sick, vaca galore. If I am, less.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Sit on my ass, my ass!

Yeah, so Monday was kinda a flop in the sit-on-my-ass department. I really had planned to, but took to heart my mom's warning about sweeping up the leaves on the front sidewalk and walk ("someone could slip and sue you"), so I did that, then had to clean up after her dog who's having gastrointestinal problems (let's leave it at that), then some laundry, random cleaning, and voila, day gone. Dangit.

But I have tomorrow & Friday off. Am hoping for some ass-sitting then.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

I love my grey hair.

There, I've said it. I love, love, love my grey hair. Was totally prepared to hate it. But the way it's coming in looks cool and is way cooler (and, need it be said? cheaper) than those highlights some hair stylist recommended last summer. O'course, I'm lucky in that I have light(ish) colored hair and the grey is more subtle than stark.

I am not fond of the slowly accumulating wrinkles, especially the frown line between my eyebrows. That my mother has an identical one does not console me. I am also not pleased with the way my skin looks like Old Lady Skin when I hold my head a certain way. It startles and annoys me.

But the grey, it can stay.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Now it's time to sit on my ass.

I've gotten past almost all the hurdles. One more gift certificate to buy, locally. Wrap local gifts and I'm done. But for now, today, I'm sitting on my ass. I got all the northgoing gifts bought (or created, as I downloaded 4 albums and burned them onto CDs for one gift--yes, legally), wrapped, packed, and shipped. (well, missed UPS on Friday, so they'll go today. Could quite easily get there Wednesday, God bless UPS.) Oh, and did the two handbell concerts (Alameda Homes Tour 3-hr marathon and Water's Edge senior lodge), the big Christmas concert (handbells, singing, and playing flute)... but didn't get the tree yet...

Taking most of the week off, but at least today, shipping the kid off to childcare. That's why I pay them the big bucks. And he'll have some fun time with his friend J from his preschool, whose childcare combines with ours for the Winter break. And I'll sit on my ass, watch a DVD, and knit.

Aah. Fabulous.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Corn?!?

Was just reading through a coworker's code, and he used a variable named 'corn' for an index in a 'for' loop. "Corn?" I thought. "Has he been reading Andrea's blog?" Then I realize it's short for "corner," as he's stepping through corners of cubes in the code.

Still, it's pretty funny. Got corn?

Bid here now!

Wow. Have you ever seen anyone with worse feedback? There's even one positive, which was a mistake! Yikes!

Thursday, December 15, 2005

QOTD: What Meyers-Briggs type are you?

Viv's post (well, responses to it) piqued my interest. I usually come out ENFJ and sometimes ENFT. My Introvert/Extrover score is pretty close to the middle, too...

If you don't know, an abbreviated version is available online.

Is it scary

that I'm able to choose my See's chocolates with complete accuracy? So far, I've eaten two Bordeau chocolates and one dark-chocolate-covered caramel. I look at them, and know exactly what they area.

Imagine if I'd turned that sort of ability to nuclear physics or cell biology.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

I am nearly done!

Just bought two more gift certificates online today, and went to a local bookstore in search of something else and emerged with Martha Stewart's "Quick and Healthy" cookbook that I'll give my dad instead of the Costco hardback thrillers he asked for. (Hey, he's the one who cooks in their family anyway, and he's always saying he likes to eat healthfully.) (I also bought a classic Elizabeth Zimmerman knitting book; hard to resist!)

Now all I have to do is finish off my nephew's present and I'll be ready to finish wrapping and ship my sister's and dad's family's gifts.

It is really nice to be so close to that precious finish line. OK, off to wrap Graham's teacher's shrug! And practice flute for the Christmas concert. And read to my son.

I wonder why I'm so tired!

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

I am liking this method of shopping.

My sister wanted something from the Container Store. I went to their website only to find (after I'd registered, dagnabit!) that the item cost $8.50 and would cost $6.50 to ship. No way, Jose. The closest stores are in SF (ugh, time), Walnut Creek (closer, but dammit, we were just there on Sunday!), and San Jose (Santana Row, which is charming, but still far).

Got her the aforementioned fork, sitting here on my sizeable heinie. Wanted to buy a gift certificate for a friend from a store that's local but not a hop, skip, and a jump. Emailed the store from their website, and lo and behold, I can call with my credit card number, and they'll mail the GC to me (or to whomever I choose). Again, still sitting here.

I think I only have 2 more people to buy for. Unless I forgot someone, which is very possible. (sigh) Now, to wrap one hundred million presents and send ninety million of them...

Lee Valley Tools may have a sense of humor

Ordered something from LVT for my sister for Xmas. They don't have a formal method for marking something as a gift, which I found out after the process was done. So I had to send a note to their customer service telling them it was a gift. Apparently, you can specify what goes on the card, too... I was going to just sign "Love, Jennie," but the item is a spading fork. (I'm 99% sure she doesn't read this. If she does, well, she is the one who found the hidden presents every year and came to tell me what I was going to get. Karma will come around.)

So I had them sign the card, "Merry Forking Christmas." They sent back a note saying they'd done what I'd asked. I was a little afraid they'd respond that they couldn't do that, sorry.

Hee hee hee.

Please, I beg of you, kill me now.

Just got off the phone with Delta Dental, who claim that A) my son must have a subscriber ID to be covered by them (even though I do have a group number and am certain that he is the only G_____ D_____ VH in the entire country), and B) it surely is his Social Security Number. Now, as I am very leery of privacy issues, I only hand out his Social Security Number when needed--that is, for Federal tax forms. Period. So I did not give Kaiser (under whom I got the Delta plan) his SSN. Yet Delta claims this is the only way to look him up. (sigh)

And now am on hold with Kaiser, who claims that, after dropping the Delta coverage for him (since it is worthless and is guaranteed to cost way more than paying out of pocket), his premium will go from $155 to--get this--$170 in January. OK. So I'm dropping a $22/mo dental plan and his premium will go UP $37. What. the. fuck?

I hate. hate. hate insurance companies. Hate them. Hate them.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

So much for a lazy Sunday

Well, we got up earlyish (after our late night going-to-bed) this morning because I had to be at church at 9:00 a.m. (instead of the usual 10:00 a.m.) to have an extra-long handbell choir practice. We managed to get there on time and G was so good about just working in his puzzle book while we practiced. So proud of him!

We practiced and practiced, mostly "The Twelve Days of Christmas," which I warned the choir director is doomed if cheerful folks in the audience decide to start singing along, since we have lots of tempo changes and pauses. Doomed, I tell you. But it is way fun, as it incorporates just about every way you can make a noise with handbells, including my favorite, the mart (short for martellato), in which you pretty much jam the handbell into your (padded) table, producing a short "clunk" sort of sound. So much of handbells is really physical, which is part of the enjoyment. I understand the super-high bells are as hard to ring as the super-low ones. Glad I'm in the middle. I play C and D in the treble clef and end up with lots of melody notes, which is a bit ego-stroking, really.

Anyway, we had our practice, I packed G up and took him downstairs, and made the coffee for coffee hour, which includes pouring out half-and-half into little pitchers and putting them in the fridge, and filling pitchers of juice and unhealthy and foul Country Time Lemonade from a mix (supported by the same church ladies who protested the appearance of half-and-half, as the powdered stuff is "fine--people like it!").

Back upstairs to throw on my choir robe, and into the sanctuary to sit down... for a while. Then the bellchoir was to drift up to the stage during the Passing of the Peace ("time for the hugs," we call it). G goes off to Sunday School and we finally play our piece (which, ah, could have gone better, dagnabit; too bad). The service finally ends (after a wonderful sermon by the director of our local women's shelter), we go downstairs to coffee hour, I have lots of conversations and we head off home.

I make 16 deviled eggs (one of my 9 eggs deciding to explode in the pan), and we head off to my swim teacher's potluck (after sending out an email to a guy on Craig's List and a gal on Freecycle...). We stay maybe an hour (and I meet a cool gal from Cameroon, who speaks French with her 2-year-old child and gives me incentive to start doing that at home), are loaded up with more food than we came with ("I only have so much room in the fridge--here, take more!") and head home. I set up a time with the freecycler to pick up some bathmats and bedsheets (purple bathmat, I'm in heaven!) and a time to meet with a guy from Craig's List who is selling a camcorder for a *song* (so cheap, my sister and I are afraid the guy left off a zero on the price, as this listed for $2300 and he's selling it for $75!).

I'll tell y'all after Xmas why we bought the above, just in case.

The camcorder guy is in Danville, so I decide to stop at Macy's Walnut Creek for pj's for my stepmom. We finally get home 8-ish... so much for the lazy evening and maybe a fire in the fireplace. I read most of the first chapter of Harry Potter 1 to G before he falls dead asleep (to my exciting narration! Unbelievable!).

Off to dreamland for me, too.... If anyone wants to come to our Christmas concert, it's free and followed by tasty treats (also free). 5:00 p.m., December 18, at First Congregational Church of Alameda. It should be fun! And short.

My night out

A friend from our local SMC group sent out a note pointing out that there's a Single Parents Night Out at the Berkeley YMCA on Saturday, free if you sign up. When I called, they were full, but the gal encouraged me to call at 5:30 p.m. (the program starting at 5 and going till 10) to see if there were any no-shows. I did, and they asked me to call back 15 mins later, which I did gladly. They did have openings, so I bundled us off to the car and took G in. He ate pizza, swam, got his face painted, and played.

And I got to go see Harry Potter 4! I called Karen & Sami to see if they could go, but Karen said Sami had fallen asleep and she had to finish something. I moped for a bit, hoping my friends in the South Bay lived closer. And then I went off to the Jack London Theater, turned in one of my vouchers from my Entertainment book, and went in to the movie (I think it cost me like $5.75, woo hoo!). After dropping off G kind of last-minute, I got to the theater at about 7:05 for a 7:00 show, but I didn't miss a minute. I saw one preview and the movie started. (I didn't get to get popcorn, but I certainly wasn't going to miss some of the movie for popcorn, much as I love it.)

I don't like to go to movies alone, just as I don't like to eat in restaurants alone. (This is one of the many ways G makes my life better--no more eating in restaurants alone.) But I still enjoyed it greatly--the man behind me, who was driving me nuts with his sniffling and grunting at the beginning (sinus problems, maybe?), laughed just where I laughed, and when I cried near the end (no spoilers here), I think I heard him crying too (but not his wife, hm). Really enjoyed it. I'd heard from some that it was, ho-hum, just another Harry Potter movie like the others. Not so. It was wonderful and captured all the angst that suddenly came up by Book 4 of the series. Fabulous and plenty of scary, funny, startling, heart-breaking, and joyous moments.

And long! It was 9:40 p.m. when I got out, so I really scurried to get back to Berkeley on time. The front doors of the YMCA were shut, so I followed some other late moms to the alternative entrance we were suppposed to use and picked up G right away. He had had a great time and was sitting quietly, reading a book from their shelves when I got him.

Yay, thanks, YMCA.

Psychic Fair in Berkeley, Dec. 17 & 18

But I expect if you needed to know that, you'd already know, now wouldn't you?

There's a psychic in Berkeley near BART. I always wondered why she had a doorbell. I mean, how good are you?

Thursday, December 08, 2005

May I have my brain back, please?

I would really like my brain to return some day.

Last Thursday, the gal who does childcare for our church choir rehearsals was just getting over a stomach bug and gallantly wrote that she could come if I wanted (G is currently the only kid), but she wouldn't be nearly as animated with G as normal, and she still wasn't really able to keep food down, but at least her temp was gone. "Stay home, we'll be fine!" I wrote her in the morning.

But as Thursday wore on and I went through kleenex at a phenomenal rate, I realized I was getting really sick. Gargled with warm salt water and even managed to do a neti-pot sort of thing at work, straggled to 5:30 and went home and stayed there, blowing and blowing my nose.

Then, last weekend, I realized with a jolt that I had been out of choir, sick, and had never called the childcare gal to let her know we weren't coming. Since I can't handle having thoughts like that and managing to hold the thoughts till I get to the computer, I didn't email my apologies till this morning. Of course, she just emailed me back and said that she had been sick, too. Duh, of course she was. Whoo, Sunday was quite the blur.

I really wish I'd put one of those "If found, drop in any mailbox/return postage guaranteed" signs for my brain.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

WTF?

On the latest Berkeley Parents Network "Marketplace" newsletter, some guy was advertising an Air Port for just $5 in a "moving sale." Hm, a wireless hub, I think, not a bad idea to own one.

But just to be sure, I email him, asking him to confirm that it's an Apple AirPort, the wireless base station. No, he replies, it's a water flask.

Huh?

How to appreciate your nice hockey skates

Forget to bring them to practice, and be forced to practice in rental hockey skates (that Belmont Iceland was kind enough to lend for free). Not only are they so dull that it's like skating on a pair of chopsticks, but they're a horrible rust color that sharply contrasts with every single other hockey skate on the ice. That, and they are so hard to tighten that they require lacing up three times each. (The upside: someone left behind a lace puller. Thanks, Someone!)

The only upside is that when Barb asks you to skate harder, you can say, "I'm just a little unsure in these skates" and she lets you off the hook. Ha ha ha!

Jena was so welcoming; it was sweet. And Tiffany back-handed a goal into the net and lifted it! This is her first season; she's not supposed to do things like that. Great to see Nora back on the ice, although I think her knees were not doing well. And of course, both Liz and Andrea were greatly missed. Jena made up for it by hocking chunks of snow at Steph. Well done!

Monday, December 05, 2005

And my wallet heaves a sigh of relief.

G had his first dental visit today after the Monumentally Expensive Dental Achievement of mid-2005, wherein I was handed a bill that had a dollar sign, a one, and three more digits after. So you can imagine my anxiety.

After a cleaning, x-rays, and a check by the dentist, G was pronounced in full dental health. I was very happy to pay that $141, let me tell you. Phew.

Sunday

Samantha reminded me I haven't blogged since Saturday. Can it be true! It can, it can!

Well, Sunday was basically a blur, or really, a cold-induced haze.

I got up, got my bod into the shower, put on some nice-ish clothes, all while feeling like I was enclosed in someone's jello salad. Thought about going right back to bed many times. Finally grabbed the half-and-half for Sunday coffee hour outta the fridge, got us into the car, and dropped it off at church, only to walk/stumble back out and go home and to bed. I half hoped someone would say, "Oh, just leave G; we'll take him home after," but I really didn't run into that many folks who were possibilities. G was sad, but I explained that I hadn't yet figured out how to clone myself, so this was all I could do.

Went back home, made some tea, watched videos, knit a bit, dozed a bit. G watched a Rugrats video, honestly, 4 times. Geesh. I made a pot of tea and settled us in to watch Harry Potter 2, after G insisted it was too scary for him--but I pointed out that HP3 was not too scary for him, and I know it's WAY scarier than HP2. In the end, he was just fine.

About 3PM, I realized the cold was really not going to give way, and sent out notes that I wasn't going to be able to make it to hockey practice. In the past, I've shown up sick and the sick feeling absolutely disappears when I get on the ice (you'd think skating your butt off on ice-cold, well, ice would make you feel worse, but no). This time, it didn't feel like that would happen.

Then Allison brought by some of the leftover turkey soup from Saturday's Advent Crafts Fair/Turkey Soup Supper at church that folks had simply left behind. Yum! So glad to have a healthy dinner with no effort.

So Sunday was kinda a nothing day. But I did half-finish a gift scarf.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Once again, the due date is NOT the due date.

A while ago (perhaps it was last year), we had a furious debate on moms as to whether due dates were written in stone. One gal, who apparently works in finance, said vociferously that due dates were just that, dates on which payment was due, end of sentence. I demurred, stating that I had many times been late on paying my PG&E bill in college, and that after a year, they sent me a note that I had "excellent credit" and was welcome to show that note to anyone wishing to know the state of my credit history.

Also, I have several times paid a credit card bill late (far less often now that I can not only pay thing online but also schedule payments automatically), and called and had the late charge as well as the interest reversed.

Finally, my mortgage is due on the 5th, but the automatic-scheduling program the bank itself uses constantly schedules the payment for the 7th, 8th, or even 9th of the month. As far as they're concerned, it's not late till after the 10th. The first time this happened, I called up in a panic, knowing that the late fee was $30 (or maybe it was even $50!). They assured me, things were fine and I was the apple of their eye.

Fast-forward to November 2005. I have a new system for not forgetting things from David Allen via my sister: a sort of open file/sorting thingy with tabs 1-31 in front, and months Jan-Dec in back. When something is due on a certain day, or I need to deal with it on that day (and need no prep days ahead of time), I put it in that slot. Then, according to the system, each day, I check the day's slot and deal with those items. You can see what's coming, can't you? So I dropped the reminder of my recent speeding ticket into November 19, knowing it was due to be paid by November 21. Looked at my file on November 23 and gasped. I quickly wrote out a check (dated November 20; Daddy didn't raise no dummies) and posted it, hoping for clemency.

Voila, a week later, I get my receipt and the info for traffic school. No late fee or nothin'.

I tell ya, the due date is most assuredly not (or not always) the due date.

I handled it. Me.

Sarah invited us to The King and I at the Children's Musical Theater of San Jose today. I hesitated, and then she said she'd jump at the chance to show her kid live theater, and I went for it.

So there we were, settling in at the theater, and G starts in with "My tummy hurts"... over and over and over again. Several times, I said, "Then we need to go out. OK?" and he said no, he'd be quiet. It crescendo'd and we ended up out in the hall, with him lying on the carpet (ick) and me wondering what to do. Finally, I darted back into the theater, whispered to Sarah, grabbed my purse and we set off in search of kid-friendly tummyache meds.

Now, my first instinct with something like this is to call Kaiser, or take him in. When he's moaning and crying from pain (and he even barfed a tiny bit outside the theater), I just feel thrown, or like I need him to be seen to rule out something serious. I hate this helpless feeling.

But today, I asked the gal in the lobby, and she pointed me to the next-door Marriott, that they might have a mini-drugstore. Seemed a good bet, so we went there, with poor G lying down on the floor of the Marriott's deli/drugstore/magazine store as I perused their slim pickin's. They only had Imodium, which is apparently just for diarrhea, not stomach upset; and Tums, which seemed like the thing, but had no child dosage information (but rather a serious sounding "keep out of reach of children"). sigh.

So I asked their wonderful Guest Services guy, and he directed me to the nearest drugstore: a Walgreen's, 4 city blocks away. In hindsight, despite Sue's virtual glaring that I can already feel (no carseat!), I wish we'd taken a taxi. As it was, we walked, whined, I carried for a bit, and we walked some more, with G collapsing down into a miserable ball at each stoplight. We finally made it there, and as I'm frantically looking for Children's Tylenol (for the pain of the tummyache) and some sort of kid's Pepto-Bismol (the adult type has aspirin, which isn't OK for kids, to soothe the tummy itself), G decides he is going to barf. Thankfully, I had borrowed a receiving blanket from Sarah, and had it ready. Now, I'm done being a good patron, and I grab Children's Tylenol off the shelf, rip it open and pour out a dose for G. Stuff the rest of the bottle into my purse, park him on the empty pharmacy-waiting chairs, and head down to the Pepto area, which is of course like a mile away from the analgesics. Turns out they make a kids' Pepto, which, I tell you what, is just Tums with smaller amount per pill and children-dosing labeling. Oh, and watermelon flavor (hurk). But I was glad to buy it, and he took one with no complaints.

I dose up the kid, and we head back, with him on my back, piggy-back. The whole time, I'm thinking, I'm a sitting duck with my purse barely on my arm; anyone could come along, grab it, and sayonara. But no problem. As we approach the theater, I realize he hasn't moved nor talked in a while. I put him down at the last stoplight, and he gleefully informs me he was "pretending" to sleep (yeah, right) to fool me, and as we pass a radio station's promotion tent, he starts dancing wildly and happily to the music. I warn him not to get too wild and upset his stomach all over again, and he complies; but his stomach is fine the rest of the day and night.

I did it. It cost like $10, but who gives a crap? Dr. visit would've been $25. We're good.

Friday, December 02, 2005

Feeling pressure

from Andrea to blog about every little thing in my life.

Speaking of little things, I'll tell ya, folks, that LEGO Advent calendar is the coolest thing going. Today's flap brought us a firehose spewing realistic water, a little oxygen tank for Mr. Firefighter of Dec. 1 to wear, and a fire hydrant. The only drawback is that G cries so much when I knock him down to get to the LEGOs first.

Words that strike terror into a single mom's heart.

"MY PENIS HURTS!" This is how my son greeted me this morning, walking into the bathroom while I was on the throne. As I desperately tried to garner more information, he just got more agitated and finally bellowed, "Get off the potty! I have to go pee-pee!" It didn't get a lot better. Urinating was not comfy and was especially un-comfy at the end. I popped him into the bathtub to see if warm water helped. When he peed before we left the house, it hurt again. Hoo boy.

Brought him to work for a scant few minutes, then off to Kaiser Oakland, as apparently every Kaiser child in Alameda had issues today and there were no open appointments. Saw a male doctor we hadn't before (and found that my son now thinks all doctors are women, due to his being exposed to female doctors almost exclusively: "When is she going to get here, Mom?") who turned out to be very nice. He thought it was nothing but was glad the nurse had us do a specimen (which was exciting--I was supposed to wipe him with the soapy square but as I'm opening it, suddenly he's peeing. Well, it was a midstream catch, anyway.).

He called me after lunch to say that the lab found that lo and behold, he does have a UTI after all. Down to Alameda Kaiser Pharmacy for a giant bottle of Keflex...

Tangent: Did anyone else read Stephen King's Gunslinger series? The first one talks about a bad infection and the main character obtains Keflex from a pharmacist, who assures him it's the strongest antibiotic he could ever need. And they're giving it to my kid! But the pharmacist assured me it was not a big deal, just an educated guess as to what would cure the UTI.

...and the consulting pharmacist was so nice about giving me another bottle to split the prescription into, so I could give one to the school nurse. This has been a huge hassle in the past, when G needed a medicine 3 or 4 times a day. No way you can split meds into 4 doses and not have one fall during work hours.

I stop by the school to give him one dose to start with, and he says, "Yay! I like medicine!" and asks for more when I give him his first dose. Funny guy. O'course, I have to be the serious mom and say things about only getting as much as you need, even if it tastes good.

I'm lucky he likes medicine. And that he's no longer yelling "My penis hurts!" at me. That's good, too.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Good parent/teacher meeting.

Had my first ever parent/teacher conference today. Started out poorly, as I arrived a little early for my designated slot, and the teacher passed me in the hallway, looking a little startled. "I'm a little early," I said, and she looked only slightly less startled. When she returned to the classroom, she looked at the schedule and told me I was on for tomorrow, not today. I couldn't understand how I'd screwed that up so royally till she said that she had sent a note home, asking me to switch, as she'd had to secure an interpreter for another family and apparently needed my slot for that conference. I'd never gotten that note; Y-kids never got it to me.

I could have come tomorrow, but had set up lunch with a coworker from Pittsburgh and really didn't want to miss that! But there was a later appointment today, so we decided I would just come back at that time (it's maybe 5 minutes' drive from my work).

The conference went especially well in that a) I didn't learn anything new, really, which tells me the teacher and I have been communicating well, and b) I got another chance to just talk with her, and I really am enjoying getting to know her better. She seems like a sweet person with a good devotion to the kids. There is one very odd element on the set of goals for the kids and she explained that it must mean that they want the kids to start understanding the division between fiction and non-fiction (it is phrased as "fantasy vs reality" in books). Stupid, and completely age-inappropriate. At least we're completely in agreement about that--G and I have read a book called "Flat Stanley" in which a boy is squashed flat and has subsequent amusing adventures. G asked some realistic question about how it could possibly happen, and I could only say that there was no way he could be flat and still live. shrug.

She also said, bless her heart, that she is already seeing massive improvement just since Thanksgiving in his behavior. People, that's only last week! So the behavior chart is really making a difference, even at school, I guess. Wow, this parenting stuff really works! Big thanks to those of you who lent a hand in this. Really.

And I got to assess her shoulder width for the shrug I've made for her. Suitably narrow, yay.

I am NOT sick.

My nose is NOT running (that much), my throat NEARLY feels better, and my head ALMOST feels clear. Do you hear me? I am NOT sick.

(interesting chorus in our hallway, with coworker coughing as I sneeze & honk my nose into my personal, soft Kleenexes.)