Well, for me Christmas is over and I couldn't be happier. I seriously don't like holidays that require me to buy gifts for the people I love. I buy my kids things all the time so I don't need a specific holiday to tell me that I need to buy them more. What I really don't like about gift-giving holidays, though, especially Christmas, is the way it changes people.
Most of my friends love the holiday and profess it all the time but there are some who get caught up in the commercial aspect of it rather than the giving/sharing aspect of it. I see strangers like that also. Since I really hate shopping of any kind I try to do all my Christmas shopping all in one day. This year I did it in four hours and was done, done, done. And I must say that I'm probably the only person in the store with a scowl on my face. I really do hate shopping.
But most of the people I see that are smiling aren't necessarily smiling because of the "joy of the season", they're smiling because they just got the best, most expensive gift for someone that they could find. I watch people when I'm out - it's kind of a hobby of mine - and I saw couples in Walmart comparing prices on toys for their kids just so they could get the one that was more expensive. I kid you not. Just because it costs more, people, doesn't mean it's better. Besides, is your kid going to know that you bought the more-expensive toy? I don't think so.
I saw people in electronics doing the same thing with TVs, video games, etc. What does it matter if the TV is five inches bigger than the other one? Is the person you're buying it for going to throw a hissy fit because they got the 32" instead of the 37"? If so perhaps that gift recipient needs a reality check. Why can't people just be grateful for what they get instead of complaining about what they didn't get?
My son Zach said the best thing to me today. I'd done my shopping with lists in hand from each of my kids. I bought what I could get and what I could afford from the lists, and it wasn't much. Then I added to their gifts with things I wanted to buy for them that I could also afford and that I thought they'd like. My gifts and Santa's gifts get mixed up under the tree so they have no clue where any gift came from other than something that may have come from a friend.
I knew my kids were hoping to get certain things that I just couldn't afford, especially Zach. He desperately wanted a video game that wasn't under the tree. After he'd finished opening all his gifts he looked at me with a great big smile and said, "Mom, I didn't really get a lot of things from my list but what I did get I really like." No complaining, no crying, no "why didn't Santa make sure I had such-and-such?" and I felt really good hearing those words. All my kids felt the same way and I was pleased. I knew I'd done a good job helping them to understand that we can be grateful with what we've got rather than bitching about what we don't have. I was proud of all of them.
Most people, however, don't feel the same way at Christmastime even though they say they do. There's too much spending and competing to get the best of everything for those they love and it really makes me sick. But the holiday is over now and I can let go of my stress and relax and feel that my family had a good holiday without going into debt the way that so many others have done this year and years previously.
My stress will start again around October next year the way that it does every year, but I won't think about it now. Now I'm going to concentrate on my favorite holiday of the year - New Year's Eve. In my mind everything gets wiped clean with the turning of a new year and we all get to start over. I'm going to concentrate on all the positive things that are going to happen for my kids and me, and all those we know and love, in the coming year and that's where I'm going to stay. It's better than stress and negativity, and it comes more easily and makes me feel better; and it doesn't require any shopping. :)
Until next time...peace to all.
Our second trip to the ER was worse than the first. When we went on Friday night I figured it would be busy because it was the weekend; what I didn't count on was the ER being twice as busy on at Monday noon than it had been on Friday night. The place looked like a sold-out movie theatre when we arrived at 12:20 on Monday. It took us two hours just to get triaged and another hour after that before they called us into an exam room in the back.
From there we played the waiting game all friggin' day and night. The ER resident came in first and took the history of the problem with Ty's knee which started two weeks prior and ended up where we were that day. He looked at Ty's knee, said he was going to speak with his supervisor to find out what was going to be done. A while a nurse came in to insert a j-hook into Ty's arm to take blood and to make sure they had an line in place in case they needed to hook up an IV later. Ty had all that done on Friday but they wanted to re-do everything on Monday. He wasn't happy, he doesn't like needles.
The ER resident came back in to tell us the on-call orthopedist would be in to see us in a while. Hours later he did come in and I had to repeat the entire story again. He examined Ty and said he wanted to wait for the labs to come back so he could speak to his supervisor, another ortho, to decide where to go from there. During all of this they wouldn't let Ty eat or drink anything in case any procedures needed to be done.
Ty had eaten a bowl of cereal before we went to the PCP because we thought he'd be cleared to go to school and he would've missed breakfast by then. I hadn't eaten since Sunday evening when I had dinner and I wasn't going to eat when Ty wasn't allowed to eat; it didn't seem fair to me. Both of us were hungry and tired of waiting but we had no other choice. So we waited some more.
The ortho came back in with his supervising ortho and I had to go through the story yet again. Don't doctors actually speak to one another or do they just give little bits and pieces of information? After I finished the story for the umpteenth time she examined Ty and both orthos decided that he needed to have his knee tapped to see if there was any sort of infection in it. His blood work had come back and still show some sort of inflammation even though everything else was as it was supposed to be.
At 10:30 that night - we'd been there for 10 hours already - the ortho came in to tap Ty's knee but then we had to wait another hour for those results to come back. When he got back to us just before midnight he said the result did show an infection in Ty's knee and that they were going to do an irrigation on it Tuesday morning to clean it out, and that they'd put him on IV antibiotics to clear up any remaining bacteria. Ty was permitted to eat, though, even though most surgical patients are NPO after midnight. The ortho convinced his supervisor, who would be doing the procedure, to let Ty eat up until 1:30 so he wouldn't be completely famished by the next day.
I ran down to the cafeteria and got us a small feast. It was really good food but tasted even better, I'm sure, because we were both so hungry. They'd also told us that they didn't have any available rooms in the hospital so we'd be staying in the ER for the night and Ty would be put in a room after his procedure. So we ate and got comfortable - he in the hospital bed, I in the rocking recliner that opened all the way into a bed. We put a movie on Netflix on my laptop and soon Ty was asleep. I was just falling asleep at 2:30 when the nurse came in and said they had a room for Ty and were getting ready to move us. Seriously? I was exhausted as it was.
They moved us to a temporary room where Ty went to sleep right away but I didn't fall asleep again until almost 3:30; about five minutes later both orthos were in the room discussing the procedure. According to them it was 7:00 in the morning. It sure didn't feel that way to me. But I got up and got all our stuff packed up again since they weren't sure if Ty was going back to that room after the procedure or if he was being put into a regular room.
The procedure went quickly; it only took about 45 minutes total. Paul arrived after they'd taken Ty in; he was late because he woke up late and also made Zach and Dolly late for school. He got them on the bus on time the morning before; what was so difficult about doing it a second day in a row? Apparently it was really difficult for him. Whatever, it was done. So Ty was moved back to the temporary room after the procedure and seemed to be doing fine.
Paul left and later that evening - I have no clue what time it was because I was too exhausted to even know what day it was - they moved us into a regular room. It was private, we had our own bathroom, we each had our own TV, and the couch actually folded into a bed for me. Maybe I could actually get some solid sleep unlike the sleep I'd gotten - or had not gotten - in the rocking recliners in the other rooms. That was not to be, however.
Nurses came in during the night to take vitals and check Ty's knee, as is usual for a hospital. A person is supposed to get rest and heal but it's impossible with people coming and going at all hours of the day and night. And, per protocol, they were there at 6:30 Wednesday morning to do their jobs again, waking both Ty and me yet again. Just a few minutes later the resident ortho came in to check Ty's knee and remove the drain from it but Ty was being really uncooperative so I had to leave the room before I flipped. When I got back to the room Ty was in a better mood.
Over the next couple of hours doctors and nurses came and went and finally gave us the okay to be discharged, with a list of instructions to follow. That's how it always is, we all know that. But we didn't care, we just wanted to go home. So almost exactly 48 hours after we entered the ER that second time we were back in the van and heading to the comfort of our home. Both of us were exhausted and cranky and wanted a break from each other; we'd been together almost 24-7 since Friday when I picked him up from school.
It was all worth it, though, because Ty is doing much better; he hasn't had any fever since the procedure was done, he hasn't had any pain meds at all since we've been home, and he's actually walking without the crutches and in a much better mood than he had been in when this all started last Thursday. I just wish it could have all be taken care of with less waiting and faster service. The hospital we were in is for children only so you'd think they'd have quicker methods of doing the work they need to do just to get the children in and out as quickly as possible. Children aren't the best patients, my son being a prime example of that.
But all is well now, just a couple of follow-up visits with doctors over the next two weeks and then Ty will be back in school after the holidays and everything will be back on schedule. I'm just hoping nothing like this happens again with any of my kids because I may have to hurt someone if I ever have to sit in the ER for that length of time again. If I do they may be checking me into the psych ward of the adult hospital across the street. Although, knowing how the children's hospital works, the adult hospital may be worse and I could wait a week just to get locked in a rubber room. Let's hope I never find out.
Until next time...peace to all.
I can't believe I haven't been here since the 11th. I've actually lost track of time these past few days, and it started last Friday. When Ty got off the bus on Thursday he was complaining that his knee hurt him so we wrapped it and iced it figuring it would be fine the next day. He got up, said he felt okay and I sent him of to school. Two hours later he called me from school saying he could barely move his leg so the nurse wanted me to pick him up. Before I left the house I called his PCP to make an appointment and it all started there.
We saw a nurse practitioner who took all our information - he'd been ill two weeks prior with a fever of 102* for about four days, and was fine after that. His brother and sister had the same virus so I didn't think anything of it. Every few days or so Ty would say he didn't feel well and would have a fever of just over 100* but a few hours later would say he felt fine. No big deal. Then his knee came into play so it needed to be checked.
The nurse practitioner was having trouble coming up with a diagnosis so she consulted a doctor who advised they take blood work and that we get an x-ray. We headed home after the x-ray but when she called me with the blood results it showed an inflammation so she sent us to the ER for further testing and a consult with the on-call orthopedist. She thought his knee may be septic from the virus he'd had so off we went.
We sat in the ER from 7:00 that night until 3:00 the following morning only to be told that his blood work did show an inflammation but he wasn't showing any signs of a septic knee. He was having trouble moving it but he could move it, and it wasn't swollen, red or hot; the ortho chalked it up to an MCL strain and sent us home after giving Ty a knee immobilizer and me specific instructions on what to look for in case he got worse. If he did I was to return to the ER; if he didn't we were to follow-up with his PCP on Monday morning, and with the ortho later in the week.
Ty was fine all weekend long, no fevers, no pain, no nothing to indicate he had a problem at all. He was supposed to have gone to his dad's house that weekend but chose not to go; Zach and Dolly did go so it was just Ty and me all weekend. Zach and Dolly came home on Sunday and went to school on Monday. I made Ty an appointment with a doctor at the PCP's office for that morning.
He showered and started to complain that his knee was starting to hurt again. We figured it was from him actually using it since Friday since he still had no fever or swelling. By the time we reached the PCP, however, he had a fever of 100.9* and his knee was swollen and had a visible cyst in the back of his leg. Needless to say the doctor definitely thought it was infected and sent us back to the ER. We stopped back by our house to grab his overnight bag that was still packed from Friday's visit. He was supposed to take it to his dad's but we took it with us just in case they admitted him. Since we'd gotten home so late and were both so exhausted the bag stayed untouched in the living room all weekend.
Anyway, I grabbed the bag and my laptop and we headed back to the ER in downtown Kansas City and started another adventure that I'll finish tomorrow night. I'm way too exhausted to finish it now since I've only had about 18 hours of sleep between Sunday and tonight. I'm hoping I'll get some decent sleep tonight so I'll be rested and in a much better mood tomorrow. For now I'll leave you with this part of the story and just say goodnight, happy dreams.
Until next time...peace to all.
Last night I went on a little Facebook 'unfriending' spree. Anyone in my bloodline is no longer a friend, and many of them have been blocked. Why? Because as far as I'm concerned my family consists of my kids and a few close friends. I have no blood relations outside of these four walls and I don't care.
I haven't spoken to some members of my family for years simply because I don't like them. Other members haven't spoken to me probably because my mother didn't allow me to be around them very much when I was growing up so there really isn't any relationship there. That's fine with me. From here on out I can honestly, and without regret, say that I don't have any blood relatives other than my little bitty family right here in my home.
You may think it's sad and may be wondering why I'm telling you this, or even why I did what I did. I'm telling you because I can, because this is my outlet. I did what I did because apparently my family has a problem with the way they think I live. They don't even know me yet they feel they have the right to judge me. Interesting.
Whatever. It is what it is and they're entitled to their opinions, but so am I. I don't need toxic people in my life; I need people who are positive, who actually know me, and who don't feel the need to judge me based on my past or present. I don't feel bad disconnecting from anyone who feels the need to try to make me feel bad about myself; I have my kids, my friends, and my work, and I'm happy that way. I don't need to be a target for anyone.
A little closure on a very long and negative past is just what I need and now I can move forward without having to be involved in all the family drama, especially as the subject of it. I was left behind years ago and tried for a long time to make sense of it. Now I couldn't care less, I know where I stand and I'm okay with it. It's easier for me this way and I know I'll be much happier knowing that all the negativity is behind me.
Until next time...peace to all.
What the heck is a "real girl", does anyone know? Can anyone explain that to me? I'm asking for a reason. In my life I've had four long-term relationships, with occasionally dating between them and each guy, in some way, has accused me of not being a "real girl." When I asked why I was given these answers, or variations thereof:
1) You always dress in jeans and Tees/sweatshirts;
2) You don't like shopping, or going out, all the time;
3) You don't ask for anything (gifts, money, assistance, etc.)
4) You don't wear make-up, jewelry;
5) You like 'weird' gifts;
6) You're like one of the guys.
I'm sure there were other answers, I just can't think of them off the top of my head; these all came flooding to the forefront just now. But they don't make any sense to me. So I'm asking you, the reader, do these qualities define what a "real girl" is?
I dress in jeans and Tees because I'm comfortable wearing them. I don't like dressing up unless I'm going to a "fancy" event. Most of my time is spent at home, running errands, or volunteering at the kids' schools. Why would I dress up to sit at home all day, or to go food shopping? My ex used to buy me clothing that he would've liked to see me in, but it wasn't my style: spandex dresses, print blouses, etc. Then he'd complain that I never wore any of it. We never went anywhere worthy of clothing like that.
With him and my other exes we only went to local dives if we ever did go anywhere. I'm not dressing up for that. Paul even complained that I never dressed up for when he got home from work. I was home all day with two toddlers spilling food, wiping their noses on me, causing chaos. I'm certainly not going to dress up in spandex and heels to vacuum the floor. What the fuck? I do wear dresses on occasion but I have to be in the mood.
I don't like shopping at all. I don't like crowds, I don't like rude people, and most times when I have to go shopping I run into inconsiderate, rude people who seem to lack any sort of common sense. I don't need to deal with that. So I do my food shopping in the mornings and make lists of anything else I need to I can get in and out of the stores as quickly as possible. And I've already mentioned that I'm a homebody; restaurants and movies are expensive, and bars are not my scene. I'd rather stay home.
I don't ask for gifts because anything I want I can get myself; I don't ask for money because I've usually got all I need; and I don't ask for assistance because whatever needs to be done I can do and get it done correctly. My exes all compared me to their previous girlfriends who were constantly pointing out things in store windows and "hinting" that they'd like to have it. I don't do that, sorry to disappoint.
I wore make-up when I was younger, at the age when my mom first gave me permission to and all my friends were wearing it. Then, at age 14 I stopped wearing it because it was too much trouble and a waste of time. I haven't worn it on a regular basis since; the only time I put on make-up is, again, for a "fancy" occasion or when the mood strikes, but it has to strike hard. And I do wear jewelry - an 'angel power' ring on my right hand, and three earrings in each ear. Why do I need more than that?
By "weird gifts" they were referring to the fact that I like practical things rather than showy things. I don't wearing diamonds or gold - any jewelry I wear is white gold or silver; I prefer to pick out my own clothing; I don't need fancy bath oils and gels or anything like that. I'd rather get a vacuum cleaner, or a basket of cleaning supplies, something that's useful to me that will save me money. The best gift anyone can give me is a gift card so I can use it when and how I need to. Nobody understands that.
And I have no clue what "one of the guys" means, I can only guess. I think it means that I have no problem joining a discussion with a group of men rather than sitting with the women bitching about women who aren't there. I don't like to gossip, I don't like to spend my time griping and complaining about my man, and I certainly don't want to have a girls' day at the mall. So does that qualify me as one of the guys? I don't know, do you?
I'm just me and I didn't realize there were specific criteria to qualify me to be a "real girl." What does it matter anyway? Why can't I just be me and not have anyone making fun of me because I can belch with the best of them? What? Belching isn't lady-like? Sorry, but I'm not holding it in; I'm not disgusting with it but a burp is a burp and it needs to be released.
I'm not going to dress all girly-girl, or change who I am, just to get and keep a guy's attention; I have nobody to impress. You can either take me as I am or walk away, I don't care. I still want to know what a "real girl" is though so if any of you have an explanation I'd love to hear it. In the meantime I'm just going to continue being me, the not-real-girl that I am.
Until next time...peace to all.
A friend told me the other day that my posts seem to be coming from my comfort zone lately and I guess they are. I think it's because my life has brought me back to my comfort zone and I don't really know how to step out of it right now. Everything that happens on a day-to-day basis is the same, nothing changes, nothing exciting happens and, for the most part, I'm happy that way. I don't like surprises, I don't like drama...so it's just easier for me to discuss the commonplace events that occur here rather than my hopes and dreams he said I don't discuss anymore. I'd like to talk about more but something holds me back; it's safer that way.
The reason I write here is really because I don't have many people to discuss anything with without feeling like I sound like an idiot. Don't get me wrong, my friends would never say that to me but I feel like they're thinking it. Sometimes when I'm here I feel the same way but I don't have to see the face of the person reading it and notice that he or she is trying to stifle a laugh. That's because I feel like the things I think about don't make sense to anyone but me. See, most of my thoughts are fantasies that I quash with my own fears, whether rational or irrational.
For instance, the other day I was feeling lonely so I was thinking about how nice it would be to have a man in my life. I was watching TV and saw a great lead character and how great of a partner he was to his mate and I thought of all the good things that would come of me having a guy like that in my life - I wouldn't be lonely all the time, I'd have a grown-up to talk to occasionally, I'd have someone to hold my hand when I'm feeling down or someone to rub the pain out of my shoulder. I thought of how nice it would be to be able to just lean my head on someone's shoulder while we watch TV; and none of it has to lead to some sort of sex-capade all the time. Then I talked myself out of it.
I started thinking that caring men, men who give as much attention to their woman as they do to themselves, don't really exist because I've never met one - remember, my ideas of men only come from movies and TV. No man I've met in my life, whether friend, significant other, family member, or stranger, has ever been even remotely close to what my idea of a great partner is supposed to be. Then I watched the show a little longer and changed my mind again - maybe, just maybe, men like that do exist. Maybe there is one for me. Uh-oh...hear comes my reality leaking in again.
Even if I were to meet a guy like that I probably won't ever find out how great he is because I won't give him the chance. Why? Because too much from my past spouts up to the present. The ugly words that have been said to me, the emotional scarring and psychological damage that've been done, my total lack of self-esteem because of all of it come creeping in to flush the fantasy away.
I start thinking that, even if Great Guy did come along he'd find out who I really am and run screaming for the hills as fast as he can. If he's my age or older he won't want to take on the responsibility of my three kids since most men my age have kids who are grown. If he's a little younger than me and doesn't mind my kids he may want to add to the family and that won't happen because I'm not having anymore kids.
Then I add to the mix that even if he wanted my kids and no more of his own he wouldn't want me because of my physical appearance. Pretty face, yes, but it goes along with a not-so-attractive body; a body that could be better if I had the resources and ambition to make it better but why do that when the baggage from my past won't allow any guy to want to stick around too long anyway.
Just to get all that ugly crap off my mind I'll turn back to the TV and watch another show with some really great lead character and that sends me back to square one all over again. It's a vicious cycle with me and I don't know how to get out of it. Most of the time I'm okay being alone, I've said that before, but there are times when I just feel really alone, even with my kids around.
I've been through four years of counseling and that helped some but we never got to a point where we discussed dating or how I'd feel or handle it. Not that I'm in any place to date right now, and I certainly don't want to date right now - I'm thinking future through all of this - but it would be nice to know what to do if and when the opportunity arises. I guess I'll just figure it out when the time comes.
But, see, this is why I don't really talk to my friends about things like this, it sounds silly and childish to me. I don't know how it sounds to you but I don't have to see you as you read it so no harm done here. It's just a bunch of my jumbled thoughts written down for all to see and, even though I started to cry when I began writing, I'm actually shaking my head and laughing at my own stupidity right now.
However, it is what it is and it's just something I'll have to learn to deal with since I don't know how to change my odd thought processes. I do, but not always about stuff like this. Anyway, maybe I made you laugh, maybe you're just thinking I'm pathetic, maybe you feel sorry for me. I don't know and right now I don't care. I'm tired so I'm going to watch a little TV before I go to sleep and perhaps have a happy dream. Those I can handle; it's my reality that gives me issues.
Until next time...peace to all.
