Candle at Both Ends

creamer-related brush with death

2009-01-24T21:10:00.003-05:00

Today I am still feeling criticized and uncomfortable and blah blah whineypants blah, and sometime later when I am feeling less yucky I will talk about it because I'm sure some of you suffer from similar bad feelings sometimes.

But because Jason thought my mention of tears in last night's post was unprofessional, and because I am still deciding how I feel about a weird Facebook situation (but NOT the one where my high school friend blocked me!) I will write about something else.

I will share the tale of my creamer-related brush with death.

This occurred last Monday, at the Giant Eagle near my house. As has been scientifically established, Coffee-Mate Peppermint Mocha creamer is as vital to my well being as Cymbalta. Unfortunately, because God hates me (also scientifically established), Coffee-Mate only makes Peppermint Mocha creamer during the holidays. Which I think is just narrow minded and prejudiced, because in my culture Valentine's Day is a high holy day. And my birthday is in March, so it is insulting that they've chosen such a narrow definition of "holidays."

Anyway, it has also been scientifically established that Peppermint Mocha is the most sought-after flavor of creamer in the tri-state area. (Any tri-state area.)

So last Monday night I was shopping and encountered some tough-looking youths, probably Baldwin-Wallace students looking to bash in some suburban housewife skulls, in the dairy aisle. They were perusing the creamers in the back of the store, and a stocker was attending to the creamer endcap.

Not wanting to jostle the BW toughs and get my skull bashed in, I asked the stocker whether he'd spotten any PeppMocha during his shift. He said he had, just a few. I said I'd like to buy them all, and he started digging through nasty rejected Gingerbread and Pumpkin Spice bottles -- which, incidentally, taste like Comet Powder.

I accepted the four bottles he found, and moved happily to the milk section, where I annoyingly dug through all the gallons of milk to find the newest ones.

When I resurfaced and walked toward the front of the store, the BW toughs were positioned in front of the break and bake cookies. As I walked behind them they both slowly turned to look right at me.

A chill swept over me, and I felt 78 percent certain this chill was separate from the overall chill of being in the refrigerated foods section. I grabbed my frequent shopper card and held it like a shiv between my knuckles. I booked it for the check out, only to find the lines were all at least three shoppers deep. Lordy! This left me in the open, without the cover of the soda coolers and magazine racks to shield me from the BW creamer freaks.

I chose a line and queued up, nervously eyeing the dairy aisle. Sure enough, they emerged looked my way, then paused for discussion. Just then, a manager called me to a newly opened check out aisle. Salvation was mine! I darted for safety... only to find that the checker on duty was my nemesis, April or Charity (she uses multiple aliases to make it difficult for me to report her to management). After my last WIC shopping trip, when April or Charity angrily threw all my WIC eggs into the cart after I said I couldn't reach to bag my own groceries (they are supposed to bag here, people! And April or Charity wasn't pushing the groceries to the end of the stand so I had to climb the stand and lay across it to grab stuff. Bitch.) I had vowed to never use her check out line again.

So much was at stake.

I decided, since I am a mother with no life insurance, to sacrifice my principles for my safety. April or Charity glared at me, and the next shopper's cart caged me safely out of reach of the BW Kreamer Thugz.

Then I ran into April or Charity at the library on Thursday and had to make awkward small talk. It was painful, but probably not as painful as getting beaten in a grocery store parking lot by some private liberal arts college kids, and then coming home from the hospital with no Peppermint Mocha creamer to look forward to.

again with the hormones

2009-01-23T21:08:00.002-05:00

Note to my imaginary male readership: Being a woman can be really sucktastic. Also, you may want to tune out now.

So my period is doing some weird thing where it starts and stops for about a week, then is hellacious for a day or three, then stops and starts for another week. Yeah. So, like, two weeks of period.

And honestly right now just thinking about that has me in tears again.

Sigh.

I am So. Tired. Like pregnant tired. Maybe I'm anemic -- I'm too tired to care.

Jason is home. I'm exhausted. Sitting up takes a ridiculous amount of energy. But the worst part is -- and here come the tears again -- I am going to be working the entire weekend, and most likely will still not catch up. And I'm talking paid work, not housework or errands.

So if you are a person who sent me your info re: freelancing, I am going to write you tomorrow morning and see if you have time this weekend. Can you tell it is really hard for me to pass writing off to other people? Yes, it is. I'll pay $20/hour though.

Anyway, the point of this whiny post, for future me who has hopefully forgotten all about how sucky this part of life was, is:

I do not think this is a sustainable level of stress. I do not think I can do this long-term. Thinking "long-term" or "indefinitely" in relation to this situation makes a ball rise in my throat and tears spring to my eyes.

Reasons why this is different than other stressful times, like when the twins were babies:
Because then the carrot dangling in front of me was getting them sleeping through the night, and that seemed nearer, at all times, than Jason getting a job here in town seems. Or maybe it's because we are designed to function well in stressful situations like new babies, but we haven't yet evolved to handle job loss/single parenting/working/preparing house for potential sale/juggling insurance companies/etc. No idea.

Something both times had in common: People telling me how lucky I am, and me not quite feeling it. But I really loved the twins (I mean, I still do, more now actually) and that made some of the hard things easier. It is not as easy to feel lucky about this job, which pays little and costs even more. I love being home with the kids again (instead of at the coffee shop) but that's the only positive about this latest change.

I've convinced Jason to bring his laptop up to bed so I can go to sleep with him there, and he can play World of Warcraft and slay some beasts while I slumber peacefully beside him, so I'm going to go. But think of me fondly tonight, your friendly whiney-pants blogger, and look for emails from me tomorrow morning if you are interested in making a bit of money this weekend. I would send them tonight but I am too exhausted to think straight.

untitled (and possibly hormone-related)

2009-01-22T21:29:00.003-05:00

Today the boys started "preschool." Or, "storytime at the library," as the other participants call it. It went better than I expected. I could feel their anxiety building as the group singing started, and they both backed slowly onto my lap, jostling each other for space. I offered the ear plugs I've started carrying in my purse, and Griffin nodded vigorously. But by the time I pulled them out the song was over, and for the rest of the hour I let them hold the baggie of bright orange ear plugs whenever the singing got to be too much.

I don't know why they are like this, but they very much need for me to not participate in group singing, praying or responsive reading. I am okay with that normally. I feel weird about it when we are at church with my family, and if I participate they glare at me, or try to cover my mouth with their hands.

Today I am feeling mired in past regrets. And I hesitate to say much because of people who have recently found my blog, and because of who is probably going to, not because there are secrets I am keeping, anymore, but because I am laid bare here. I am as one-dimensional as Jason's ex-wife is to me - a person who hurt, and nothing more.

And because I am quick to hate myself, I am quick to see myself in this light. Nothing more.

I'm amazed at how quickly, with Jason gone and the kids in bed, I am back to the place I inhabited 12 years ago, where the world felt as though nothing would ever be right again.

But that's just an aside, because earlier as I was staring blankly into the cupboard for nothing at all, lost in others' perceptions of me, suddenly Athena appeared next to me, and I hadn't heard her get out of the bath or come down the stairs -- she was just suddenly there, and pissed because the boys and Helena were playing with a balloon she got from school, and I had this great moment of clarity, and a sense of purpose and worth. I can't believe this is my kid. I can't believe I can hate myself so much and have this amazing pissed off kid in a pink towel, and these other three wild hooligans running in circles chasing a balloon and laughing like donkeys, and I guess that even though I know producing children is no indication of worth as a human being, I saw them and felt like I was maybe not so bad.

So I'm overwhelmed with love for my perfectly imperfect children, who are embarrassing and disobedient and hate sing-alongs and responsive readings, and who run and yell and chase and exuberantly break my furniture. Right now I'm holding them as evidence of my value to mankind.

daria watchers, anyone?

2009-01-21T23:01:00.002-05:00

Were any of you fans of "Daria?"

Remember how her dad's eye used to pop out and turn red, and he'd yell, "MY EYE!" whenever he was mad or stressed?

That is me.

I have Athena's eye funk, but not as bad and only in one eye.

It is less painful than I expected it to be, except when I am tired. This morning my eye was glued shut when I woke up, and then it didn't stop tearing for a few hours. My right eye wept for the tragedy of my current life. (I should be eating ice cream and watching VH1 marathons, and instead I am taking out the trash and eating nasty Angel Food Ministries instant oatmeal. It's NOT GOOD, people.)

It also causes a halo around all light sources, especially in the morning. It would be heavenly if I weren't fighting with people about how instant oatmeal is what I made for breakfast and that's what they're having and there is nothing wrong with it. (This was before I tasted it. Sorry kids.)

We have our minivan back from the shop as of this afternoon, so I am prepared for any and all emergencies.

That's all I got, because MY EYE! AUUUGH! Must go get some sleep.

happy new day.

2009-01-20T22:12:00.003-05:00

Maybe it's the hours spent sitting in Grace Brethren and Southern Baptist churches during my first 18 years of life.

Maybe it's coming from three generations of preachers.

Either way, Dad, it's your own fault that I find President Obama beyond inspiring.

The appreciation for a good speech, for a great delivery, came from those hours in church, no doubt. A good orator follows a distinct cadence, whether he or she is a professor, a preacher, or a president.

But.

And I feel guilty even writing this --

I do not recall m/any sermons focusing on serving the poor or the addicted or the abusive or the -- the wrong. Most of the sermons on service, as I recall, centered on serving the community through a Vacation Bible School held at our church. Or... well... yeah.

I believe the church I grew up in was good at quietly serving its own, which I think is very important. I think money was given to families in need, without a loud and public "love offering" being taken. I know there was a food pantry, though I never saw it. Quite possibly there was more I didn't see.

Since Jason's job loss August 1, we have had our every need provided for us. ["All I have needed/Thy hand hath provided/Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me."] (Oh come on, at least one of you was singing that in your head.) Family members, friends, and anonymous strangers have given to us. Relative strangers -- internet friends -- have given to us. Athena's school offered to pay for our kids' Christmas -- did I tell you that? We declined, and they were extremely pushy (in a nice way, I mean) and made it hard to say no! The school secretary said things like, "Oh, come on! Are you sure? It would be so fun to buy for the twins!" She made it feel like we'd be doing them a favor if we let them buy the kids' gifts.

And oh, what a charge that is -- to realize that is what I must do -- to meet people's needs while showing them that it is actually my needs being met. To be quiet when I am able to give, so the gift is more about the recipient. To give rather than asking, "Do you need anything?" And to be generous even to the people who are -- plain and simple -- wrong. Like the grocery checker at Giant Eagle, or Dick Cheney.

(I am still working on having a generous spirit toward those who are truly wrong, like violent criminals. I am not generous enough yet to talk about it without joking.)

Anyway, today feels like a new beginning. Let it be so!

optimism (and lots of parentheses)

2009-01-19T22:04:00.003-05:00

I'm feeling optimistic.

Maybe it's that tomorrow is Inauguration Day, and that LOST starts up again on Wednesday. (I'm being honest, people. I am an expert at grabbing hold of the little things. Will I get to watch ANY Inauguration festivities without children screaming for Dora and Spongebob? No. Will LOST make the world better at all? No. But I'll get to watch it. Therefore they are equal.)

Maybe it's that the second estimate on our minivan was substantially lower than $2400. Maybe it's that our overall population is less frighteningly sick than they were several days ago. Maybe it's that Jason cleaned the house and swept the insulation out of the torn up bathroom this weekend.

Whatever it is, things are looking up.

I made a decent meatloaf and good mashed potatoes. Athena ate half a piece of meatloaf! Griffin asked for more mashed potatoes! (That represents the sum total of what was eaten by the children, but again, I grab onto what happiness I can.) (Oh wait, that's not true, Helena and Phoenix ate some frozen peas. Yes, still frozen. They like 'em that way. I highly recommend frozen peas and frozen blueberries for your children 12 months and up.) (But we didn't have any frozen blueberries, to Phoenix's horror.)

The roofing people have said there's no point in doing anything until the snow thaws. I am now prepared for major damage to the inside and outside of my home, and I can relax about it. For now. (The bathroom is really freaking cold without insulation. Insulation is an amazing invention.)

Athena is going back to school tomorrow! She has been fever-free for a few days, and her eyes look almost 100% normal. I am looking forward to a cozy week of kids feeling better. I have been meaning to blog about how amazingly, breathtakingly hard that whole acute illness of several children at a time thing was. Not because I am so awesome (goes without saying) but because I am shocked by it, and I had forgotten what it was to be needed so intensely by three people at one time, and I've never gone through it with four before. Particularly not on my own.

So that will wait. I am highly emotional (impending inauguration + lady moontime + complete exhaustion) and struggle not to cry about, oh, anything at all, and I worked tons this weekend, and I'm sure I'll be terribly stressed this week as deadlines crash in, but for now I feel sort of good.

further musings on health care that would make my mother's skin crawl

2009-01-18T20:34:00.005-05:00

Today I spent nine hours editing a document that started out 697 pages long. I've whittled it down (sorting for duplicates codes, other things too boring to describe) to 126 pages but now I am too mush-brained to do any more hunting for duplicates, and I'm definitely too mush-brained to start the actual writing work.

I feel like I ought to be able to put in a good three hours tonight, but my head hurts just thinking about this boring boring file. (It will not be boring when I finish with it. It will be zesty.)

We started using Athena's eye drops on Phoenix too, and now I think it was merciful that the pediatric ophthalmologist wrote me a refill. I am going to step forward in faith and assume Athena is going to be all better when we discontinue the drops today, and it will be okay to use the refill to get Phoenix taken care of without another dr. visit.

The more I've thought about high deductible health plans (the only option I've seriously considered since Jason lost his job, since everything else is beyond our budget) the more I've been struck by what unhealthy choices they lead people like me to make. These plans are touted as being healthier for consumers, encouraging them to take a greater interest in their health care. I am not feeling that. Instead, I am scheming, wondering if I can lie about having spilled an antibiotic so I can get a bottle to use for another kid... wondering if I can figure out the right dosage for a smaller child; whether it's as simple as algebra... wondering if it is safe to guess at a diagnosis so I have grocery money left.

I didn't do things like this before. I didn't take the kids to the doctor often, and I didn't go often, but I was responsible about prescriptions and getting problems checked out. Helena, my "failure to thrive" baby? She was last weighed in September. And I don't think she is failing to thrive, but I do think there is something wrong. It's something slippery, though, that I can't describe in a way that makes sense, and the fear has been there since she was born -- different than any ways in which I worried for the other kids. But you don't pay out-of-pocket to discuss vague fears, half-formed suspicions, and the things you hope aren't real. Not on this kind of budget. Feeding her comes before finding out why she won't gain weight.

So the only people who get healthier on a high deductible plan have to be people with plenty of money. That seems... unconscionable. And it is probably not the working poor abusing our health insurers with unnecessary physician visits, in the case of lower deductible plans -- the working poor have to work and they have to pay those $20-$40 copays. Getting time off and forking over $40/visit are disincentive enough for people whose budgets are tight.

My mother would be terribly ashamed of me, but I'm not even sure how to see this issue in another light.

further misadventures in the land of the uninsured

2009-01-17T17:40:00.002-05:00

I posted a new Examiner article, which is long overdue and I'm sure they are about to fire me and I will pretend not to care, to be relieved, but I'll actually feel like crap and beat myself up about it for a few months and feel embarrassed whenever Examiner is mentioned for the rest of my life.

So, if you don't mind, click over and then comment in the comment form over there because I get double points if you comment!

My Examiner article, by me.

my children are evil

2009-01-17T16:09:00.002-05:00

Today it is Phoenix who's passed out from the eye pain and fever, and Athena and Griffin who are wrestling on the sofa bed, injuring the baby while I try to work and Jason takes a shower.

Aside: Who does he think he is, bathing while he is on duty? Can I leave the kids unattended in the middle of the day, trusting that they will not kill each other? No I cannot.

Their obnoxious Gap-girls laughter makes me want to drink myself to sleep when I contemplate another week alone with them against even tighter (impossible, actually) deadlines and a teachers in service day on Friday.

hey kids! did you know...

2009-01-17T14:02:00.003-05:00

...adenoviruses can cause tonsilitis? I know that now, because Phe was asking me why his throat is growing closed and upon inspection, I see that antibiotics are not improving what I had assumed was strep.

...adenoviruses can cause obesity? I discovered that while researching adenoviruses and what else I might have in my near future. I am going to blame my recent weight gain on Athena's trip to Chuck E. Cheese on the 8th.

a cozy happy family (not mine)

2009-01-16T15:33:00.002-05:00

For Christmas, one of Santa's elves made these little wooden peg dolls for the girls. The house and pilgrims and other non-peg doll stuff came from the thrift store.

Anyway, I have it on good authority that the dolls were a lot of fun (theraputic) to paint, and can be found at craft stores and even cheaper online. And now they all live in this little cavity in our wall where a phone used to rest, I guess, maybe.

a poor reflection on my personal hygiene

2009-01-16T13:27:00.002-05:00

Me: I'll be right back -- I'm gonna go brush my teeth.
Athena: Why? Is Daddy coming home?

Fin

a better day

2009-01-15T20:58:00.002-05:00

Homeowners' insurance is going to cover our roof. Glory be!
This makes the car more manageable.
Athena seemed to feel better today and only fell asleep once.
Phoenix is still a wild beast but I discovered that with the others incapacitated, I can keep him out of trouble by enlisting him to help me at every turn. This strategy is useless normally because EVERYONE wants to help with EVERY step of any given task.
Helena was much cuter today. I didn't consider placing her for adoption at all today.
Griffin slept off and on for most of the day. Things like drinking from a sippy cup wore him out so much that he cried about being tired and laid back down to sleep afterwards. Poor little man.
All the children have very bad diarrhea. Very bad. Pooping in their sleep bad.
I've gotten no work done. Hoping my clients are forgiving.
My ass is huge.
Tomorrow is Friday!

how i measure snowfall, and comment replies

2009-01-14T23:06:00.003-05:00

How I Measure Snowfall, by Jennifer Boyer

How I measure snowfall is, every 8 hours I throw a garbage bag right outside my side door. When I come back 8 hours later, I can tell if it has been snowing, and how much! And that's how I measure snowfall, by Jennifer Boyer.

Comment replies:

First, I do want to clarify that "Anonymous" was my husband, being funny. He was ridiculing a conversation I'd had with someone else, earlier, in which their sympathy was for my poor poor husband. So he is sympathetic to my plight and will be even more sympathetic when he comes home to 10 days' worth of garbage in the garage and by the side door. 'Cause Oh yeah, today was garbage day and I thought a little about it but decided it wasn't a priority.

Second, please do not let my woes stop you from complaining about your own! [Short break because Athena woke up having soaked her pajamas and sheets with sweat, and then a check of the boys proved that they needed more Tylenol.] Anyway, complain away. Really. I am not here sneering at your piddly problems or anything. I know my problems are awfully piddly, really.

I think I am gonna cancel on my aunt because that's what I do, and because I don't really want to deal with the kids over there, and because then Jason can worry about the car when he gets home. And he wanted to take Friday off and come home Thursday night, but I said no way because he doesn't get paid if he doesn't work, and I spent $330 today.

My dad bought me pizza for dinner tonight and when the delivery person got here (an hour sooner than they'd estimated!) she could hear Helena crying and asked, "Do you have a little one?" Which I took to be an invitation to tell my life story, 2001 to present. She said, "Well, if you need help--" and I interrupted that I did, and she gave me her name and number and said she runs a home daycare and also does hourly sitting. So I packed up Helena and sent her home with the pizza lady until the weekend.

No I didn't. Helena cried in her crib for Two. Solid. Hours. during which I contemplated suicide probably only a handful of times, which indicates the Cymbalta is working.

A cute thing Helena did today: I got her out of the tub before she wanted to get out (for splashing-related offenses) and she was angry and yelled at me, "I! FWIM! A MERMAID! AT! NOW!" Which means something like, "I WILL swim like a mermaid, RIGHT NOW!" And also, "I hate you Mommy!"

A cute thing Phe did yesterday: I was surpised by how quickly he did something and commented on it, and he replied, "Well duh! I'm Flash." As in Flash Gordon or the Flash or some fast superhero, I don't know. But then I did tell him how "duh" isn't a nice thing to say. He learned it from his babysitter, Spongebob.

And I'm off to bed! I feel much better after pizza and Jason making me laugh, and all your comments affirming that I am such a brave little lady. Keep 'em comin'!

dear god, i thought you quit punishing us because of jesus's crucifixion, so what the heck is up with all this?

2009-01-14T19:48:00.006-05:00

This is how Athena's eyes look. Actually it doesn't truly do them justice. She looks like a vampire or something, and when she is tired her skin turns truly gray and the effect is startling.

My girl loves her some Buckeyes! Let's go scarlet and gray! O-H! Eye... Oh.

This evening I gave Griffin Tylenol, then another dose of Tylenol, then a popsicle, and after that he went to lay down because he was too cold. After a bit he started screaming and I went to him and he was so hot to the touch that I worried I needed to take him to the ER or something. I pulled off his shirts and put a cold washcloth on his neck, then ransacked the bathroom to find our last thermometer -- one died this weekend and the other died this afternoon. When I took his temp it was 104.1. AFTER all my cooling measures.

I paid the pediatrician a $100 deposit, and I had to beg and cry on the phone for them to see us today since we don't have insurance cards. They said I had to go through their financial office and they'd get back to me in 48 business hours. WTFF???? Which stands for What the Fucking Fuck. I started crying and said I'd pay cash for the entire appointment before we were seen, and the lady said she'd let me talk to the nurse, and the nurse was alarmed enough by Athena's condition that she made an appointment.

Then we were referred to a pediatric opthalmologist. I paid him a $100 deposit too.

We had 45 minutes between the appointments, and it was lunchtime, so we drove to McDonald's ($22) and ate in the car as we drove back. Athena began crying because her toes hurt because they were so cold. She was wearing winter boots but our minivan doesn't have mfing heat right now and it was in the single digits here today.

I paid $108 for her eye drops.

Apparently the eye thing is like having hundreds of tiny divots in the surface of your eye. It sounds unbelievably painful. I am still having a hard time reacting with kindness to all the whining.

The danger is that she would get a bacterial infection in the eye while the surface is compromised. They can't do anything to help her get better faster, they can just give her these drops to try to keep it from getting more complicated.

Phoenix is in pain too, but he alternates between crying from the pain, and being absolutely wild, bouncing off furniture and breaking rules. It seems illness completely negates his ability to control himself and his impulses.

Helena is much the same, though she doesn't seem to be in pain. But she's been so awful today and yesterday that I don't want to get her from her crib, where she is currently screaming, because I am so sick of her that I worry I'd be mean to her. Meaner than ignoring her and making her cry from her crib.

What I want: my mom to come and help me. What is happening: my aunt is coming tomorrow to take us to her house, and her son who is a mechanic will look at our minivan, and my aunt will help me take care of the kids at her house. It is so, so nice. And I'm so glad because this is unbelievably hard. But I am nervous about dealing with the kids at her place, Phoenix and Helena because they are awful and Griffin and Athena because they are so sick and I hate being sick away from home.

Also I have work voicemails and emails from yesterday that I haven't read/listened to/responded to and I promised someone I'd call her back tomorrow to discuss a project and I promised someone else I'd write them last night about their project, and I am sinking.

I wish my mom would come and help me.

adenovirus

2009-01-14T17:12:00.001-05:00

http://kidshealth.org/parent/infections/lung/adenovirus.html

She has keratoconjunctivitis, which could keep her out of school up to a few weeks.

Griffin can't move his neck.

This is possibly one of the hardest things I've ever done.

y'all, i'm about to do some bitchin'. join me.

2009-01-13T21:57:00.005-05:00

I won't bother to recap the events of the last 6 months. No, this bitching post will focus more narrowly, on the last six hours.

Firstly, Helena is still awake. It is 10 p.m. I cannot express in words how desperately I want her to shut up and go to bed and leave me alone. I cannot express in words how loudly she screams when I place her into her crib.

Secondly, what I have eaten today is this: a few handfuls of popcorn, and a handful of Dove chocolate Promises. I was waiting for my delightful daughter to go to bed, and now I see that it is 10 and the dinner I'd made myself hours ago has aged to a point of being unsafe. I meant to eat, but was interrupted by a flood of children with dirty hands and faces and diarrhea that needed wipe assistance and stinky feverish children in need of baths. And now here I am, with freaking Helena and having eaten nothing of value or substance today.

Thirdly, between my children and my plumber, my house is in a state. Aside from the bathroom being dismantled (I can close the door on that), there is drywall tracked all through the carpet, there are boards and insulation pulled out in our weird diaper closet, the diapers are strewn about my room, and my closet shelf and a board blocking access to the bathroom sink were removed and left out. How much does this make me want to cry? An amount that is out of proportion to the actual problem. See "what I have eaten today," above.

Dinner dishes are on the table and counter, plumber debris is everywhere, and kids' normal detritus is also everywhere.

I really want to give up. Being completely honest, I don't care anymore. I don't. Were it not for the children pestering me constantly, I would sit in this very spot, not moving at all, until the house fell around me. I am tired of trying -- of trying to keep up, trying to figure things out, trying to be cheerful and optimistic. I'm tired.

Others, feel free to join in. Melissa from Binkies and Bandaids found out today that her husband was laid off. Casey's dad got hit by a freaking car. What the HELL, 2009?? Are you SERIOUS?

Cheer me up by commenting. Bitch (even if you feel your troubles are insignificant. All our troubles are insignificant, really, so bitch away.) or just say hi. Now I am going to try to get rid of my Haney for the night. She's so cute. I'm so sick of her.

i had to share this with you first.

2009-01-13T16:22:00.003-05:00

You guys. You will not believe this.

The leak is coming from OUR ROOF. As in, the water pooling on our basement floor had seeped slowly through the walls and over a few weeks -- WEEKS -- made it into a giant pool on the basement floor.

We have about 8 inches of snow on our roof now, maybe more, with more on the way this week.

Water is running down our walls now. As in, I can sit and watch it move.

The plumber came and determined our pipes are all good. He ripped out part of the ceiling in our first floor bathroom and discovered the roof thing. It's where some addition was put on, years before we bought the place.

I am *pretty* sure roof repairs are not covered under our home warranty. Plumber figured just to fix the drywall where he tore it out would be $300-$400. That's not counting all the other places where the plaster is now mushy to the touch.

Sorta reeling from this.

I mean, really? No idea what the roof repairs would run but with the minivan repairs necessary in the next few weeks, this may be the difference between squeaking by in our house, and foreclosure.

Crap crap crap.

I need to pull it together because the kids are hungry and I'm struggling to function enough to make snack.

SERIOUSLY, 2009? REALLY?

even more good news!

2009-01-13T10:42:00.002-05:00

Ha! I just noticed water damage on the ceiling of three --THREE!!! -- of the first floor rooms! So our leak is coming from the 2nd floor. HA! HAHA! I bet this plumber trip is going to send me into a coma.

a day so awful, it is almost unreal.

2009-01-12T21:55:00.002-05:00

Of course, the very worst days of our lives usually have only one thing go wrong, but it's a terrible, life-altering thing. But the less serious category of Worst Days, the type where nearly all of a hundred little things go wrong, are so terrible you really can't help but laugh at them.

The plumber couldn't come until tomorrow, to fix the leak in the basement, so we are still limited to the basement bathroom. It's not proving to be too much of a problem, though, probably because Athena is terribly dehydrated and the boys spent most of the day in the basement refusing to clean their playroom.

Athena's antibiotic is only to be taken twice a day, thank goodness, and she is able to keep it down. She can also keep down a random Saltine, or a sip of water. But if I try to give her even 1/4 of a Tylenol meltaway tablet, she vomits. So, her fever is uncontrolled and I am hoping the antibiotics knock it out sometime tomorrow.

Jason took the minivan to a repair shop, and the bare minimum of repairs -- to get it to pass the E-check in the next 6 weeks -- will be $2400. It seems we need more like $5000 of repairs, really. So we looked at trading it in, but blah blah blah we can only afford a really sucky minivan that would cost more than ours. We're going to take a few days and think it through.

Griffin, Phoenix and Helena were wild and out of control today -- the boys more so than Helena because she is tiny and therefore weaker and slower, but they were all wild and horrible. I imagined they were getting sick. Just before 5 the boys fell asleep on the couch, on top of each other, and when they woke they were so sick and sad. Griffin just stood, tense, with his mouth wide open and tears falling fast as he screamed. Phoenix was calmer but cried that his throat hurt. Both have fevers. Helena fell asleep shortly afterwards, leaning against me on the sofa, her cheeks flushed in circles so perfectly round and red they looked artificial.

Everyone's tummies are sick. (One toilet!) I am achy -- my back hurts so badly I can hardly stand it, and my eyes are burning and my throat is sore. I can't show my fear to the children, but I am absolutely terrified of being here alone with them, and being very sick.

Four days, four days.

2009, you have not impressed me thus far.

2009-01-12T12:18:00.002-05:00

So far today...

We received word that the repair bill for the minivan will exceed its worth, and may even equal what we still owe on it.
Athena threw up on my kitchen counter, a feat which had to require some effort on her part as the kitchen counter is at eye level for her.
The boys' behavior indicates they have gained access to a stash of cocaine, but they won't tell me where it is, so I can't sell it to fund the purchase of a replacement minivan.

why the baudelaire children can suck it

2009-01-11T22:53:00.005-05:00

The road to the basement bathroom is treacherous and littered with the bodies of the dead.
Darth Vader hath slain the Batman, and then he too hath fallen.
A ferocious dragon guards the entrance to the batcave.
The entire basement reeks with the scent of rotting superhero flesh and rusting superhero-robot metal. (In the case of Colossus.)
In this laundry basket, two mighty robots (and their tiny robot friend and Luke Skywalker and Lando Calrissian) have met an untimely end.
Like Moses, this baby doll succumbed just before she made it to the promised land of the basement bathroom.
You see why I hate going down there?

an unfortunate series of events, with less tragedy and more relevance than the lemony snicket tales

2009-01-11T21:57:00.004-05:00

It all started with Jason losing his job. Or it started with Jason being recruited for a job that would disappear in 18 months. Or it started with us not making enough money to support our passel of hangers-on. Oh, hell, what does it matter.

Anyway, to review, we have no health insurance. Well, the children have Medicare? Medicaid? As someone who writes about health insurance I really should know this, but we're being honest, right? So I won't look it up. Anyway, the children have Medicaid (just go with it) but I am nervous about using it because Jason has started his new job, although he won't get paid for a gajillion years, but anyway.

So even though that should be no big deal according to the douchebag father of Athena's classmate, it does mess with things. Today Athena was still very sick, so I took her to the CVS MinuteClinic but they said, "Fellas, it's too rough ta feed ya," and sent us on to Urgent Care. (That was a little shout out to Gordon Lightfoot and "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald." Really they said Athena was too sick to be seen at the MinuteClinic.)

At Urgent Care, she fell asleep in the waiting room and basically sort of freaked me out while we waited. She was diagnosed with strep, and supposedly her eyeballs feel like they are going to burst from her head because of the high fever? I am skeptical but we'll wait and see. Her doctor there was named something so complex I can't even guess at his ethnicity/cultural background etc. One of his names (there were four, and this wasn't even the last one) ended in -og. How awesome is that?? How many people do you know with a name that ends in -og!!!!?! I don't know any.

Anyway, she puked on Jason's back seat on the car ride home. Take THAT while you are having tasty delicious meals at my mom's all week, Jason.

While we were gone, Jason went to dig out the minivan, and confirmed my suspicion that the heat in the mini is broken. The service engine soon light is also on. Sigh. This probably won't be good.

Then, after he came inside, he discovered some sort of water leak from some plumbing (?) on the first floor, through the floorboards and all over the basement. Have I mentioned we are not handy? We're not handy. We do have a home warranty, though, so hopefully it will be covered, and not just covered-but-we-still-pay-$900.

Then there's the issue of contagion. How likely are my other three very oral children to contract strep? Apparently it's sort of likely. How likely am I to get approved for individual health coverage before any other children show signs of needing medical attention? Remains to be seen.

OH!!!! Worst of all, the leak caused Jason to have a little system overload (have I blogged about him being part robot? It looks like I haven't. Remind me to get to that.) and during his MALFUNCTION! MALFUNCTION! (have you seen the "Backyardigans" where they are "bad 'bots, robots who are bad?" Yeah.) he felt compelled to shut off the water to the two good bathrooms. All that's left is the sucky basement bathroom, which is freezing cold and you have to walk through a minefield of action figures to get to it. Also, did I mention it's in the basement? So if I have to pee in the middle of the night I have to go down two flights of stairs and through a supervillians' battlefield? Suck.

I anticipate lots of pants-pissing accidents tomorrow. (Not by me. I will push kids out of the way to get to the toilet in time.)

Oh, also, I don't know what's wrong with Helena but she literally walked around screaming and sobbing for two hours tonight. Every so often she'd throw herself face down on the floor, also. It sort of made my brain hurt. It made Jason want to shake her, probably because of his MALFUNCTION. And once we got the kids to bed he said, "I want to get in the car and drive away and never come back." Normally I'm the one who says those things.

obligatory post

2009-01-11T00:10:00.002-05:00

...because I am trying to post each day.

We have tons of snow. Athena is really really sick and I am actually sort of worried about her. Is there a disease where you have a high fever, severe headache and swelling around the eyes so it feels like your eyeballs may explode out of your head? Because that's what she has. Phoenix has pinkeye. I am trying to work a lot this weekend while Jason's around. All my marvelous cleaning was undone by the time I got up this morning.

The End

boys can enjoy barbies, too

2009-01-09T23:50:00.002-05:00

My boys play with Barbies in ways Mattel surely never intended.