Let's bow our heads for a few minutes for the long hard fight of Terri Schaivo.
May God grant her eternal bliss.
What's your opinion? I'd love to hear it.
I'm Kind of a Big DealI'm just so full of awesome that I had to get some of it out.
Muttpuppy //
Thursday, March 31, 2005 8:16:00 AM- Kether //
Friday, April 01, 2005 9:06:00 PM
- Summer Girl //
Saturday, April 16, 2005 6:02:00 AM
- Kether //
Wednesday, March 23, 2005 1:45:00 PM
- Muttpuppy //
Thursday, March 24, 2005 5:07:00 AM
- Patty //
Thursday, March 24, 2005 11:31:00 AM
- Summer Girl //
Saturday, March 26, 2005 1:55:00 PM
- barb //
Thursday, March 31, 2005 1:39:00 PM
- Summer Girl //
Tuesday, March 01, 2005 2:42:00 PM
- some girl //
Tuesday, March 01, 2005 7:04:00 PM
- Carol P //
Wednesday, March 02, 2005 2:52:00 AM
- Kether //
Thursday, March 03, 2005 9:55:00 PM
- Patty //
Friday, March 04, 2005 9:27:00 AM
- some girl //
Friday, March 04, 2005 11:00:00 PM
- barb //
Sunday, March 06, 2005 7:12:00 PM
- Crista //
Wednesday, March 23, 2005 7:04:00 AM
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Last night was so nice. Some friends that Dan and I graduated HS with came home from KC for the holiday. We hadn't actually had a "couple" to hang out with for a few years, so we went "out". When we got to the bar, I think about half of our graduating class was out last night. We ended up at three different bars and could've had our class reunion a few months early. I met wives and husbands of other classmates, and it wasn't even wierd! I wasn't in the "popular" group, cuz, I mean, come on, I HAD A BABY back then. The cool thing was most of them had changed and actually had some intelligent things to say. A few were the same ol' same ol' and still stuck up each others' asses. But that's all cool.
I'm dying to tell someone this story. So I guess my internet friends will get to be those ears.
This guy we went to school with- let's call him BOBBY was a total freaking jerk back then. SO MUCH SO, that everyone knew this story about when he was in 8th grade, he was a bully, and had thrown this younger kid's bicycle in a river. That kid (the younger one) knew his ass would be kicked when he came home with no bicycle, so he jumped in to get it. He never came up. Bobby continued being a jerk all through high school, and I still don't understand WHY he was so popular! Anyway, after high school one of our classmates was killed by a drunk driver. Bobby and another classmate held a "Ride Across America" where they rode BICYCLES across the US to bring awareness to drunk driving. Now last night he was boasting about how he's in the Peace Corps. Maybe an attack of conscience? I doubt it. (shut up, Stephanie)
I'm dying to tell someone this story. So I guess my internet friends will get to be those ears.
This guy we went to school with- let's call him BOBBY was a total freaking jerk back then. SO MUCH SO, that everyone knew this story about when he was in 8th grade, he was a bully, and had thrown this younger kid's bicycle in a river. That kid (the younger one) knew his ass would be kicked when he came home with no bicycle, so he jumped in to get it. He never came up. Bobby continued being a jerk all through high school, and I still don't understand WHY he was so popular! Anyway, after high school one of our classmates was killed by a drunk driver. Bobby and another classmate held a "Ride Across America" where they rode BICYCLES across the US to bring awareness to drunk driving. Now last night he was boasting about how he's in the Peace Corps. Maybe an attack of conscience? I doubt it. (shut up, Stephanie)
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
In case you are wondering (which I guess many of you are! wow!)
I missed my u/s appointment. I've made another appointment, but it's not until April 1st. Sigh.
This is what happens when you are me. When you are me, things slip your mind. Even important things like ultrasounds. When you are me, you suck at life. When you are me, you miss your kids so much when you are away from them, and then are SO totally impatient with them when you are around them. When you are me, you forget just how much you really would like a good romp in the sack, but you are too tired, anyway. When you are me, your house is always messy and no one has clean clothes. When you are me, you are amazingly adept on the job, because it's your future and you must impress everyone, though your home and family are suffering. When you are me, you are happy you are about to graduate and be a REAL nurse, but sickeningly bittersweet-ly sad at the same time, because gosh-damnit, you loved school, and your friends there, but hated clinicals. When you are me, you see that you can't do it all, but try anyway. When you are me, you schedule a day out at the zoo with your friend, your friend's kids, and your kids, and you realize two days before said day out at the zoo, that said day is your 8th wedding anniversary and therefore are a disappointment to your husband, who is stuck at work, and alone in the evening until you get home, at 8 pm, exhausted from a day at the zoo with the kids that kept getting on your nerves. (But I do love them so.)
So glad you aren't me.
I missed my u/s appointment. I've made another appointment, but it's not until April 1st. Sigh.
This is what happens when you are me. When you are me, things slip your mind. Even important things like ultrasounds. When you are me, you suck at life. When you are me, you miss your kids so much when you are away from them, and then are SO totally impatient with them when you are around them. When you are me, you forget just how much you really would like a good romp in the sack, but you are too tired, anyway. When you are me, your house is always messy and no one has clean clothes. When you are me, you are amazingly adept on the job, because it's your future and you must impress everyone, though your home and family are suffering. When you are me, you are happy you are about to graduate and be a REAL nurse, but sickeningly bittersweet-ly sad at the same time, because gosh-damnit, you loved school, and your friends there, but hated clinicals. When you are me, you see that you can't do it all, but try anyway. When you are me, you schedule a day out at the zoo with your friend, your friend's kids, and your kids, and you realize two days before said day out at the zoo, that said day is your 8th wedding anniversary and therefore are a disappointment to your husband, who is stuck at work, and alone in the evening until you get home, at 8 pm, exhausted from a day at the zoo with the kids that kept getting on your nerves. (But I do love them so.)
So glad you aren't me.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
This morning I took my 7 year old to the hospital for an ultrasound. He is precious, by the way, and my favorite boy in the world, so you know. I haven't posted about this problem we're having with him yet, because I'm trying to make it "not a big deal." But now I think I shall, cuz I have nothing better to talk about. So there.
I took him to the doctor about a month ago because he is seven and still (STILL!) wets his pants. Daily. Like every day. Not at night, but in the day time. I'm saying every pair of his whitie-tighties I put into the washer is yellow-y pee stained from all the day peeing. He is potty trained, has been since age 3, but still has "accidents." These aren't huge accidents; in fact, you wouldn't even know he's peed himself unless you were doing his laundry. It's only his underwear. So there's leakage, we've figured out. (As mrs. said doctor pointed out, he's not actually wetting his pants; if he were, he'd have a puddle under him.)
The last time I took him to the doctor for this was when he was 5 and he (bastardly ex-doctor- see previous post) said it was a case of "laziness." He said that my sweet baby boy was peeing himself because he didn't want to get up from whatever he was doing. SO, 2 years of talking, pleading, encouraging, and punishing (YES, PUNISHING) ensued. It's still happening. He's still wet. Every day. (Have I told you how much I hate that fucking doctor?)
(Here, we take a moment to shed a tear for the monumental guilt I carry as a mother for punishing my son when he obviously can't help the fact that he wets himself.)
That brings us to today. Our wonderful, new, female GP referred us to a Pediatric Urologist. I have to drive 3 hours to get to a pediatric urologist's office. I mean, really, WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND wakes up one morning and says "I want to be a pediatric urologist when I grow up"?? Who? Apparantly Dr. John Gatti did. (I want to call him Dr. Gotti when I get there. I really do.) Where was I? Oh yeah, so, Dr. Gatti wants him to have a u/s of his kidneys and bladder before his appointment that is 3 hours away from home. That's what we did this morning. The tech, focusing on the first kidney, asked DJ if he'd ever had any surgeries. He said no, and the tech just said "Hmmm." She didn't elaborate. That bitch. (I'm sure she's a very nice person, but, for the purpose of this story, she's a bitch.)
Later this month we will be headed to Children's Mercy in Overland Park (HI PATTY!) to see if there are any physical abnormalities inside my son's wee abdominal area. Thank god we have better insurance now.
My ultrasound: Friday.
I took him to the doctor about a month ago because he is seven and still (STILL!) wets his pants. Daily. Like every day. Not at night, but in the day time. I'm saying every pair of his whitie-tighties I put into the washer is yellow-y pee stained from all the day peeing. He is potty trained, has been since age 3, but still has "accidents." These aren't huge accidents; in fact, you wouldn't even know he's peed himself unless you were doing his laundry. It's only his underwear. So there's leakage, we've figured out. (As mrs. said doctor pointed out, he's not actually wetting his pants; if he were, he'd have a puddle under him.)
The last time I took him to the doctor for this was when he was 5 and he (bastardly ex-doctor- see previous post) said it was a case of "laziness." He said that my sweet baby boy was peeing himself because he didn't want to get up from whatever he was doing. SO, 2 years of talking, pleading, encouraging, and punishing (YES, PUNISHING) ensued. It's still happening. He's still wet. Every day. (Have I told you how much I hate that fucking doctor?)
(Here, we take a moment to shed a tear for the monumental guilt I carry as a mother for punishing my son when he obviously can't help the fact that he wets himself.)
That brings us to today. Our wonderful, new, female GP referred us to a Pediatric Urologist. I have to drive 3 hours to get to a pediatric urologist's office. I mean, really, WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND wakes up one morning and says "I want to be a pediatric urologist when I grow up"?? Who? Apparantly Dr. John Gatti did. (I want to call him Dr. Gotti when I get there. I really do.) Where was I? Oh yeah, so, Dr. Gatti wants him to have a u/s of his kidneys and bladder before his appointment that is 3 hours away from home. That's what we did this morning. The tech, focusing on the first kidney, asked DJ if he'd ever had any surgeries. He said no, and the tech just said "Hmmm." She didn't elaborate. That bitch. (I'm sure she's a very nice person, but, for the purpose of this story, she's a bitch.)
Later this month we will be headed to Children's Mercy in Overland Park (HI PATTY!) to see if there are any physical abnormalities inside my son's wee abdominal area. Thank god we have better insurance now.
My ultrasound: Friday.