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2008 June

Uncle, I Say

June 30, 2008

the hardest part about being a parent

Ten hours in the ER. Morphine IV. Ultrasound. Abdominal CT scan. Consult with a surgeon.

Diagnosed with mesentaric adenitis. Basically it presents the same as an acute apendicitis attack, but there is nothing to do for except pain management and anti-nausea medication. Sent home with a prescription for Vicodin.

He managed to eat this afternoon and keep it down, for the first time in four days. I was hoping that we were turning a corner, but this evening found him screaming in pain again to the point where he was hyperventilating.

I have never experienced anything quite so heartbreaking as seeing my child in that amount of pain, and I hope to never again.

I laid down with him on the couch. My most difficult child who usually resists hugging, held on tight to me. Searching my face for comfort that I couldn’t give. I traced the scar on his forehead with my thumb and just wished I could take all the pain away.

Posted by Chris @ 10:35 pm | 159 Comments  

Don’t Blink

June 26, 2008

pitch

Tonight before the game I was sitting with some of the other mothers of boys on the team. The other team was on the field warming up. We all remarked at how huge they were. Why were those boys so big? Did they have some ringers on the team? Were those high school boys? And my god they are throwing those balls so hard and running so fast. Our bay-bees were going to be crushed by this team of giants.

Then our kids took the field alongside them. And we realized they were the same size. And they threw the balls just as hard and ran just as fast.

We won the game 10-1.

I know it is such a cliche, and one that was impossible to believe when my children were all so small and I lacked the perspective of time, but they grow up way too fast.

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I’m afraid to blink again.

Posted by Chris @ 11:40 pm | 46 Comments  

First Place

June 22, 2008

championship-trophy

One championship won.

The season is winding down, except for my oldest son who is just gearing up and will be playing through August. But co-ordinating the practice and game schedule for one kid will be a cake walk after this season of trying to juggle four different teams.

The coach said one nice thing about all the kids as he handed them their trophies. Some were nice like “great hitter” or “all around good player.” Some were so-so like, “never met a pitch he didn’t like to swing at” or “tries really hard, even though he never hits anything.” Of course his own kid walked on water while turning it into wine.

He said my son could “run like the wind.” Which is true, he can run incredibly fast. You know when he actually hits the ball and doesn’t do things like get his hand stuck in his pocket.

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My seven year old got a trophy as an honorary member of the team. He went to all the practices with the team, but he is only seven and not eligible to play with them. This disappointed the coach so. He would have loved to trade my blonde son with the bad attitude for the little one with the fiery spirit.

So the coach gave him and another younger brother of a member of the team trophies and called them the team good luck charms. As soon as they started sitting in the dugout with the team, the team went on a winning streak.

I am not sure if you can tell by the photo above that he did not like that trophy one bit. Nope, he wasn’t pleased at all.

Friday my 12 year old had his championship game. They are thus far undefeated. But we all know that means absolutely nothing. I am just hoping they win for no other reason than the series will end. Since it is a double elimination series they would have to continue playing. And I would have to continue driving him to the field. The trophies should really be inscribed with the names of the players mothers.

Posted by Chris @ 9:52 pm | 41 Comments  

Bubble

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Posted by Chris @ 9:01 am | 29 Comments  

Normal

June 20, 2008

My poor husband almost had a coronary when I called him and could only croak out normal before bursting into sobbing tears.

“WHAT? What does normal mean?” he shouted over me. Because clearly normal could not be good if I were crying.

But it is. I am normal. Or at least my innards are normal.

And I feel thankful. And lucky. And blessed beyond measure.

Posted by Chris @ 10:26 am | 159 Comments  

There is Always Something to Laugh About

June 19, 2008

When I was at the doctor’s office and she had a form she was filling out and was asking asking me five million questions, among them:

“Are you pregnant?”
“Hell, no I am not.”

“Are you sure you aren’t pregnant?”
“Yes, very sure.”

“What sort of birth control are you using that you are sure?”
“My husband had the Big V a couple of years ago.”

“Are you dating?”
“Um, no my husband generally is not to fond of me dating other men.”

And then at that moment she looked up from her paper and looked at me quizzically. And I looked at her.

“I said, ‘Any babies?’ Meaning, are you nursing any babies.”
“Hahaha I thought you were asking if we were swingers. I sort of wondered if this was so common that now you routinely asked people that or if I just looked like the swinging type.”

Afterward I was wondering what would have transpired had I said, “Why yes, I date all the time!”

*****
At the radiologist’s office today I went into the bathroom and they gave me a pair of hospital pants to put on. This morning when I was getting dressed I realized that I own NO pants that don’t have snaps, zippers, or something metal on them. My husband tried to convince me that I could wear my pajama bottoms. But, oh hell no, I do not wear pajamas out in public.

While I was in there getting changed the tech said something to my husband and he calls through the door, “Take off your underwear and bra.”

I hear the tech correct him and say, “No, I said underwire bra.”

He responds, “That’s what I said, underwear… bra.”

She corrects him, “No, WIRE. UnderWIRE bra.”

He says through the door, “Oh something called underwire bra.” Then I hear him say to her, “What is that?”

As she uncomfortably began to explain lingerie to my husband I called through the door, “It is a kind of bra that women who actually have boobs wear.”

*****

The CT scan went fine. I am now an expert on drinking large volumes of disgustingly flavored liquid. Bring on Survivor, except for the athletic competitions.

I won’t have any results for 24-48 hours and since that would be the weekend, I probably will not know anything until Monday. The radiology tech was not able to say anything. Rob thinks everything was fine because she smiled at him. But he had no answer for when I asked what he would expect her to do if someone was riddled with tumors. Glare at the person? Give the person pitying looks? Slip a brochure for funeral homes into his hand?

She told me that the drink will probably make my poop white. Is it weird that my first thought was, ‘Wow, the boys will think that is so cool.’

*****

I have been completely blown away by all of the kind emails and comments. Really. Especially the people who preface the email with, “You don’t have to email back.”

When I got home today there was a message on my voice mail from a friend I have not talked to in over a year. The time stamp on the call said 11:00am, the exact time that my appointment was. She is very, very religious (probably the reason we have drifted apart) and I believe the exact message she left was, “Jesus put you in my heart this morning and after I prayed for you I decided to pick up the phone and see how you are doing. Blah, blah, blah. Call me soon.” Maybe I am taking some liberties with the blah, blah, blah part of the conversation.

Insert the Twilight Zone music here. Really if God is just trying to get my attention I think he should have just set a talking bush on fire in my front lawn. I guarantee I would have paid more attention to that than the ASSCAM.

Posted by Chris @ 3:06 pm | 47 Comments  

Treading Water

June 18, 2008

I have a million different things I could write about. Baseball championships, a birthday, home renovations that are taking place at warp speed, never ending doctor and dentist appointments that stack on top of each other, the garden the kids have planted, an exciting project I am working on, and other potentially good things that I am not allowed to talk about yet. Don’t you hate when people do that? tell you that they have something exciting going on, but that they CAN NOT TELL YOU?

I do. And yet, here I am doing it anyway.

Monday, I was at my regular general practitioner, the vanilla ice cream of doctors, where I was proclaimed in perfect health. Though she did suggest that I gain weight. Which, what the hell? Because according to her “chart” I was underweight. I grabbed the roll of fat around my middle and showed it to her, because apparently it missed the memo.

Yesterday morning at 8:00am I got a phone call from my GI doctor’s office. All the tests I had done came back normal, except two. They are markers for a specific kind of tumor. I need to go for a CT scan. Soon. Like tomorrow morning. If that doesn’t make a lump catch in your throat I don’t know what does.

On the one hand, it is nice to finally have a doctor who finally is doing something, even if it means doing scary tests and looking for rare, life threatening illnesses. On the other hand, it would be much nicer to hear, “Your are in perfect health! Go forth and live to 90 years old.”

So now I sit here and look over my to do list and fell paralyzed. I mean if I am dying (yes, I KNOW I have a touch of the melodrama) will I really care if my walls aren’t painted. Wouldn’t I rather have spent that time gazing with misty eyes at my spawn, you know while they try to win the bicker marathon contest? What you haven’t heard of it? Well, it exists and my children are poised to take the gold. I am so proud. Or else helping my 9 yr old memorize his multiplication tables so that when I am gone and he has to go to school people won’t talk bad about me.

My email box is filled to the brim with emails I should answer but am ignoring instead.

Because honestly, I DO NOT WANT TO SIT IN ON A PHONE CALL WITH SOME PSUEDO FAMOUS PERSON WITH AN AGENDA THEY ARE PROMOTING JUST SO I CAN BLOG ABOUT IT. PR people still haven’t gotten a clue it seems, since one called me on the PHONE yesterday to ask me why I hadn’t responded to their exciting email invitation to talk on the phone. (Let that sink in a moment… called me on the phone) And then seemed honestly shocked when I politely said that I was not interested. When pressed I finally said, “Um, because I don’t want to?”

So if I owe you an email, I am probably not going to get around to it. Ever. I’d like to say that I will, but that would be a lie. But I did read it. And I appreciate the time you took to write it.

I find myself in this place where if you were to call me up (um, please don’t) and ask how I am or what we are up to, I would answer with a generic “good” and “nothing” Not because either of those are necessarily true, but because I can’t even put any of it into words. At least not words that can fully encompass everything.

Posted by Chris @ 12:19 pm | 67 Comments  

Eleven

eleven

Happy Birthday, Bug.

Posted by Chris @ 12:18 am | 14 Comments  

Father’s Day

June 16, 2008

Nothing quite like…

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a little girl and her Daddy.

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She adores him. And he spoils her rotten.

Posted by Chris @ 10:01 am | 38 Comments  

Before the Storm

June 12, 2008

pitching

This photo was taken right after he shoved his glasses in his back pocket and broke them. He was sweating so much they were getting foggy. Luckily his vision isn’t that bad.

Is it just me or does his leg positioning remind you of the Karate Kid? It makes me want to break out my rattle drum or yell wax on, wax off.

Tuesday was so incredibly hot. All of the kids were dripping in sweat like they had been dunked in a pool. We were saying that we wished that the field had hoses hooked up so we could hose them down with cold water. Like zoo animals. They are 11 and 12 yr old boys, there isn’t much difference.

I couldn’t help but think that this is what separates athletes (them) from non-athletes (me), because I found it trying just sitting on the bleachers sweating. I could not fathom running around wearing long pants and knee socks. Much the same way that I can not fathom that all of these athletically inclined people came out of my body.

This is the last week of the season. Next week the playoffs start. Why we have to have playoffs is beyond me since it seems to me that all the teams make the playoffs. My oldest, HWSNBM (He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Mentioned), just began his baseball season this week. In case you were worried that I was suddenly going to start talking about other things. Never fear.

Posted by Chris @ 10:54 pm | 26 Comments