Archive for January, 2008

I Am Mother, Hear Me Roar

Have I ever told y’all that #2 has migraines? He does. It’s one of those things where as a parent, you would rather be hit over the head with a hammer than watch your kid cry with pain like that. If I could pay money to have them instead of him, I would do it. Any parent would.
He’s had them for about 2 or 3 years. We didn’t realize they were migraines til about 6 months ago when the doctor diagnosed it as that.

Usually, he can get one and he’ll go to sleep for about 30 minutes or so, he wakes up and he’s fine. Sometimes he throws up, sometimes he doesn’t. The doc gave him a prescription for nausea stuff but even at 9 years old, #2 is all “I don’t want to take anything.” I think it might make him more sickly feeling to swallow anything.

He’s had one this afternoon. This was the first time I’d ever seen him want all the lights off, no sound, nothing. It lasted longer. I forget he’s approaching double digit age and as he grows, those will grow and change (hopefully go away eventually).

I’ve never had a migraine. I’ve worked with a ton of people who have had them. My sister used to have them (do you still get those? I haven’t heard you mention them in a long time).

I absolutely hate it when #2 has them. Hate. It.

Something else I hate? Having to be the Bad Guy with one of my teenagers. I have to say though, your Sista grew some testicles last night in the process. I miss the days when she liked me. The days when she’d say “Mommy…wanna howd you.” I’m trying to hold her now. I think she half wants me to still. Maybe that’s the deal with being a teenager and that half woman/half child thing.

The HT and had a big ol row last night when she spoke to me, using words and a tone in public that was highly inappropriate either in public or private. I know it’s the age. I know. Still, I have been remiss in allowing her to get away with it.

Interestingly enough, I hear her say things that used to come out of my mouth at my parents and now, I hear myself say things my father used to say to me…that causes a little shiver. I will add here that the intensity in which I said smartalecky things to my father was NOTHING like what she does.  Plus, my dad was from another generation.  A generation that wasn’t worried about putting the fear of the father (and I don’t mean the Lord) in you.

I wish I could get across to her that I am on her side. I’m for her.

Again, I say that parenting is not for the faint of heart or the lily-livered.

Crappity Crap

Newscoma…I didn’t mean to lose my wonderful template.  That’s what I get for playin’.

A Decision

Nobody has asked and I don’t know that anybody cares, really, but, I think I know who I’m going to vote for in this Presidential election.  I’m not political and don’t engage in political arguments or discussions, as a rule.  With all this Super Tuesday stuff coming up it’s been on my mind and I made my decision the other morning when I was getting ready for work.

The winner is….


Why?  Not cause I’m a feminist although I do think a woman can do the job as good as any man, plus with multi-tasking skills get more accomplished.  The big reason…healthcare and the economy.  That’s it. 

 So what if she’s not icky gooey sweet and charming?  Charm and fashion sense doesn’t mean a hill of beans if my house is foreclosed (y’all have NO idea how close we’ve been to that before) and I’ve got some horrendous disease and can’t afford to go to the doctor because I was laid off. 

I don’t care if gay people can legally marry.  Let them.  If you don’t like it, fine.  In the grand scheme, is it more important that the guys that live across the street from my mother can legally be married or is it more important that the  young mom who had to have valve replacement surgery and because she was unable to afford her copay, not go for a follow up doctors appointment and then died at 35 years old? Helloooooo?  No  brainer.  Doesn’t mean I don’t love Jesus.  Ding dong…..reality is calling.

Dang, I’m Good

I couldn’t sleep last night.  It wasn’t the wind keeping me up. (Boy, that was some breeze wasn’t it?).  Just couldn’t sleep.

I finally went to sleep about 3:30.

Sometime in the morning, I’m sleeping and I hear Meredith Viera’s voice.  I’m not supposed to hear Meredith whilst I’m betwixt sleeping and waking. No, I’m supposed to hear Holly, Aaron and Tim.

Mr. Smiff nudges me…”I thought you were up.”  It was 7:15.  I’m supposed to be at work at 8:00.

Praise the Lord  and my flatiron that this was not one of those mornings that my hair was sticking straight up in the air, as it does most mornings. 

I have a talent of being able to get ready quick.  Even when I have to blowdry and fix the hair, I’m quick.  I’m quicker than Mr. Smiff even.  I even made coffee.
Luckily, the traffic was not bad and I was at work on time.   

She Knows How To Use Them

Is this a great photo or what? 


From The Leaf Chronicle, the tall blonde is the daughter of a co-worker of mine.  She’s so tall the other player is between her legs. 

I wish I had long legs. 

Go Lulu!

Y’all…Lulu Roman has lost a bunch of weight.  She looks amazing. Not like the same person at all.  Unbelievable how poundage can change your appearance.  She tells about how she did it here.

I haven’t lost as much as Lulu, but, I’ve lost somewhere betwixt 20-25 lbs since September.  The Chipmunk Cheeks aren’t quite as chipmunky now.  Praise!

This Is Familiar To Me…

When I got to work this morning, several people were talking about the little boy they saw on the news this morning with Asperger’s that sang the National Anthem at a Martin Luther King rally last week and how singing kinda zaps him into place. 

When #2 is doing homework, drawing, or anything that he’s focused on, he hums.  Sometimes, it’s at different pitches and different decibel levels.  All of this is interesting.  Perhaps music could be a very important key for some people with this? 

Go listen to David Militello sing.  It’s amazing.  I can’t help but laugh when he’s on the pew and he’s standing on his head.  That is what life with #2 is like sometimes. Welcome to my world.