You know those days when you sit around watching the soaps because you can't find anything else to do?... Yeah. Me neither!
I'm in stress mode trying to get everything ready for a trip to Greece and then Italy. I'm feeling the pressure of packing for events for which I'm not in charge. Have I ever mentioned that I like being in charge? I hate not knowing what to expect and what is expected of me. It causes me an unmeasurable amount of anxiety. I know, it's a control issue--don't judge me, I'm working on it...
And if that wasn't bad enough... I also have to coordinate, arrange, plan, and prepare for all the eventualities that will occur to/for my children while I am gone. Hopefully those unscheduled activities (that inevitably pop up) will not include any more trips to the ER.
Additionally, I am feeling guilty that I'm leaving my kids to my mom and dad for two weeks... Not that they can't handle it--they will handle it better than I could. But still, I won't be in charge. And I hope they survive it (my parents, that is... not at all worried about the kids!).
So--if you have any packing suggestions, de-stressifying suggestions, or other random suggestions, submit them now. And if you know of anything in particular that I should or should not pack, do, prepare, please let me know that as well. Although, if your suggestion includes learn to speak Italian--please keep it to yourself. I tried that and it was an epic failure.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Too Much to Do
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Where did those stitches go?
I have five kids. Five kids equals many trips to the ER. We've called 911 more than our fair share of times. I'm not sure if the worst part of these emergency visits is the wait time, or the culminating medical bill.
My new pet peeve is this: Waiting forever for treatment and/or waiting hours before figuring out that the medical attention provided was non-helpful.
A couple of years ago, I took JJ to a local ER when I was sure he had appendicitis. We waited for HOURS before even being shown to a gurney. After waiting for yet several more hours, we were told that they weren't sure what was wrong with JJ. They proceeded to tell me that if I was correct, and it was in fact appendicitis, there was nothing they could do for him. They told me that I should take him to Primary Children's Hospital where they were better equipped to deal with pediatric cases. Why on earth would they let me waste an entire night waiting for help before sending me out the door to another hospital? We arrived at Primary's at 4:30 am where JJ was whisked into surgery for an emergency appendectomy. His abdomen was full of infection.
JJ spent a few days in the hospital, but now he's fine... No thanks to the efforts (or lack thereof) of the staff at hospital Numero Uno.
Last night we had another trying experience. Max fell and cut his face open. It was immediately apparent that he needed stitches. The Mister took him to Primary Children's Hospital (per my request) where they arrived around 8pm. They waited until after 2 am before being seen by a physician. I understand that the ER was busy, and I have no argument there. The problem is this... After waiting for 6 hours with a gaping wound, he got stitches, but the doctor decided to use dissolvable stitches. The stitches were supposed to take 5 days to dissolve, and if they hadn't completely dissolved by then, we were to take Max in to have them removed. Here's the problem... The stitches dissolved completely by dinnertime tonight. They didn't even make it 18 hours! Now what am I supposed to do? I know they won't restitch him at this point. But now I'm concerned it's going to pull open again. What good are dissolving stitches if they dissolve before the wound is healed? Seriously!
Monday, April 27, 2009
Proof of Spring
I've been holding out on you. I've been showing photos of my wintry home to elicit sympathy. But the truth is, I have proof of spring.
This is one of the four little cuties who arrived (without fanfare) on Easter evening. While I wasn't looking forward to adding to our collection of pets, even I have to admit that these are four, very cute little additions.Let me know if you are in need of a fluffy companion in your home. We'll be looking for four very good homes in the near future.
I wanna be Chubby Biker...
I don't know who Chubby Biker really is. I'm sure her actual moniker is a bit more mundane... But whoever she is, she's a regular fixture on the hill. And she's earned my respect. I have to think hard to remember a day when I haven't passed Chubby Biker in her effort-filled peddling to the top of the mountain. Sometimes she bikes in the morning, sometimes it's in the afternoon, but she's certainly dedicated to her daily challenge.
Biking to the top of our hill is a popular challenge for the bike set. In fact, passing bikers on the hill is not an unexpected event. I've become accustomed to fudging left of center (of my lane) to leave a safety buffer for the bikers. (And dare I mention that some of those bikers wobble across the line like drunks? Some of them need that safety buffer that I so generously provide!) Most of the bikers wear their fancy bike pants, with matching jerseys, toe-clipped shoes, and customized helmets. Not Chubby Biker, she wears sweat pants, sneakers, a basic helmet, and a puffy, down parka. She is obviously not an athlete. She probably started this exercise (no pun intended) in uphill peddling in an effort to lose a couple pounds. But her dedication and stick-to-it-iveness impress me.
Those other bikers is their fancy pants just don't inspire me. I don't feel an unrepressed desire to cheer them on. They get their glory when they cross the finish line in record time. But not Chubby Biker--she's in no danger of winning a race anytime soon. But regardless, she's the one who gets my vote!
