Tuesday, August 23, 2005

I'm Broken, Totally Broken

Somebody fix me, please.

Saturday evening I was getting ready to go for a long run but felt tired, so I decided to lie down for a few minutes.

I woke up 2 hours later feeling like a 90 y/o arthritis patient who had been hit by a bus. Every inch of my body ached, my head was ready to explode, I couldn't move my neck, I was alternating between chills/sweats, I was nauseous, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to cough, it hurt to open my eyes.

So I took two Tylenol PM and went to bed.

For some reason, the "Fact Sheet" that the Diva brought home a few years ago when meningitis was going around the school popped into my head: It comes on suddenly, with severe headaches and a stiff neck being the two symptoms that distinguish it from the regular flu.

I spent most of Sunday in bed, and even more of Monday. This is all I remember of Monday:

-Destructo woke up, and I handed him off to the kids for the day.

-I heard the Hubster walking around the bedroom flossing his teeth. (I didn't know it, but he came home four times that day to check on me.)

-I called Base Medical to see if I could get a same-day appointment, and cried into the phone when the appointment clerk told me there were none left. She must have felt bad, because the doctor called later to do a phone consult, and after listening to my list of symptoms, said, "It might be meningitis. You should get over to the ER at Tripler." And he said something about some tests, including a spinal tap.

Okay. So I decided to pop some more Motrin and go back to sleep. I couldn't do the 20 minute drive to Tripler, fight for a parking space, then sit for who-knows-how-long in their crowded waiting room. (And the phrase"spinal tap" creeps me out.) I would wait till morning and see if I could get a same-day appointment on Tuesday.

Today I wake up feeling better and decide against the appointment. The body aches are gone, so that's a start, right? Plus, I need to meet a prospective tenant out at our house this afternoon.

As the day went on I started feeling worse and worse, and wished I had made the medical appointment. But I crawled out of bed, showered, and drove out to the house to meet the lady.

The bitch stood me up. I hate people like that.

Anyway, different day, different symptoms. The body aches have been replaced with dehydration, lightheadedness, a horrible cough, and severe nausea. And of course the neverending headache and chills/sweats/fever combo.

So, tomorrow I will make the appointment, no matter how I feel in the morning.

In the meantime, can I ask for some healing vibes, prayers, or anything you can send my way?

Friday, August 19, 2005

Bad Parenting 101

When your toddler isn't able to fall asleep for his afternoon nap, it's not a good idea to get him up and take him along while you run one quick errand.

Especially if that one quick errand is directly next to a super playground.

And it's 90+ degrees in the middle of the afternoon and you didn't bring his shoes.

You'll be left with a very upset toddler who, an hour later, is still crying, "one, doo, gree....." as he pretends to count the steps leading up the slide that you didn't let him play on.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Sometimes It's Just Too Easy

The Rumor Mill has been working overtime, and we're not doing anything to stop it.

I recently had a medical appointment at the MTF on base. (MTF=Military Treatment Facility=doctor's office....gotta have an acronym for everything!)

It was no big deal, but the doctor ordered an ultrasound which will be done at Tripler. The paperwork was sent over to Tripler, and all I needed to do was wait for them to contact me to set up an appointment.

Except for one thing.

I hadn't updated my contact information after we moved.

They tried and tried to reach me, but didn't have any luck. So they called the Hubster's office to have him pass a message along to me. Not a problem.

Except for one thing.

The Hubster was on the Mainland when they called, so they left a message with his chatty administrative assistant. Not just a "call Tripler" message, but a detailed "Mrs. X needs to contact us to schedule her ultrasound as soon as possible".

I would guess that the majority of the population make the ultrasound/pregnancy connection. At least in his office they do.

So we've been playing along, being vague when they ask questions such as "And how have you been feeling?" or "You look radiant today - what's your secret?"

They are just waiting for us to make an announcement, or slip and drop a few clues.

Eventually we'll have to end the game. But for now, it serves them right for passing information around the office when they obviously didn't know what they were talking about.

(And BTW, I did have a nice talk with the radiology department about patient privacy.)

((And just to clarify - I've never felt better, and the radiant glow must be the result of one too many margaritas.))

Monday, August 15, 2005

Adventures in Running, Week One

Last night was the night for my 6-mile run.

It's been a while since I've done six miles, but I was pretty confident. The toughest part for me is just getting out the door, and last night was no exception.

It was almost 9:00 and Destructo refused to sleep.

The boys were having computer problems.

The Diva was writing an essay as summer homework for an AP class, and she needed help.

I needed to get some laundry started.

The Hubster had jet lag and had been asleep for over an hour already.

I finally told everyone to just deal with it or wait until I got back, and I headed out the door.

The second toughest part for me is the first mile. I'm okay once I hit my stride, but most of the first mile is spent cursing and wondering why the Hell I wanted to run in the first place. It's not so bad now that we've moved because the majority of that first mile is down a steep hill. The bad part? The majority of my last mile is always UP that same hill.

Anyway, I made it through the first mile and was feeling pretty good. I couldn't stop thinking of the spinach and cheese ravioli I had made for dinner. I had only eaten four pieces because I was planning to run, and there were lots of leftovers waiting for me when I got home. It's sad, but that's what kept me going.

I was running a route that I had done hundreds of times before....last time we lived here. This was my first time since we moved, so I wasn't totally familiar with the route yet.

There is one section, just over a mile long, where it is a rather dark two-lane road leading out to the back gate. There are a couple of curves in the road, and I couldn't quite remember what was around each curve, or which curve was the last one before the back gate (my turn-around point).

As I'm running along I noticed some blinking lights off in the distance. I was excited because I knew there were blinking lights at the back gate, and this meant I was getting close. I kept running and was amazed how quickly I was approaching the blinking lights. This motivated me more because (based on my calculations) it meant I was keeping an amazing pace.

So, I continue running toward the blinkie lights at my amazing pace, with visions of large plate filled with spinach/cheese ravioli dancing in my head.

And then it hit me.

Those blinkie lights? They weren't at the back gate. They were attached to two bicycles and were moving toward me.

Crap. So much for my amazing pace.

I managed to get a grip and finish the six miles, making it back up the hill without incident, and sprinting the last 100 yards toward my house (and the waiting spinach/cheese ravioli).

As soon as I walked into the kitchen, I saw an empty Tupperware bowl in the sink. The same Tupperware bowl that was half full of spinach/cheese ravioli when I left the house less than an hour earlier. The Hubster woke up hungry, so he and the Diva polished off the leftovers.


Next week we're having oatmeal for dinner when I do my long run.
Violet Friday

Before viewing my PhotoFriday pic for the week, you must read the following disclaimer:

1. I have never been, and never will be, a foot model.

2. I am not a pedicurist, and have never had a pedicure. (Something about having people touch my feet just creeps me out.)

3. I have tan lines in places most people don't have tan lines. Deal with it.

4. Three hours in the hot sun on Soccer Saturday will make you do weird things. Especially if you have a camera handy.

5. PhotoShop makes it pretty simple to change pinkish-coral color to violet. And it almost looks real.

By clicking on the link, you agree to not hold me responsible for any long- or short-term effects resulting from viewing my PhotoFriday submission. These effects include (but are not limited to) nausea, vomiting, convulsions, blindness, fits of laughter, and lack of sexual drive (for all you foot fetishists).

Do you agree to these terms?

I agree.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Wake-Up Call

At 3:40 this morning, my cell phone rang.

With the Hubster on the Mainland, I've been sleeping with the cell phone next to me (on my new nightstand, by the way). He is in a class and calls at the end of his lunch time, which is about 7 a.m. Hawaii time - I may or may not be awake, depending on Destructo's sleep patterns.

Anyway.

When the phone rang at 3:40, even in my groggy state I knew it wasn't the Hubster. It could only be two things: Really bad news or a wrong number.

It was neither.

Me: H'lo???

Voice on the Other End: Good morning! This is Not-So-Bright Maintenance Person from the property management company in Florida. I'm not calling too early, am I?

Me: (trying to focus on the clock) Well.....it's 3:something here, so yeah....it is too early.

Perky Voice: Oh, I'm sorry. I knew Hawaii is in a different time zone. I just assumed you wouldn't answer your phone and I could just leave a message.

Me: Oooooookay??? And what would that message have been?

Perky Voice: The tenants are having a problem with the automatic garage door. I've called someone to take a look at it. I just wanted to let you know.

Me: Okay....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz? Is that it?

Perky Voice: That's all. Have a great day!!

At 3:40 a.m., I really don't care.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Genetic Paybacks

Don't you hate it when your kids use your own DNA to drive you crazy?

Like when the Blonde One's stubborn streak comes out, and he tries to out-stubborn me.

Or when you try to paint a wall with your perfectionist 10 y/o, and his idea of perfection is different than my perfectionist vision.

And then there's Miss Independence.....it was totally okay when I was Miss Independent, but it's a different thing from a parent's perspective.

Damn genes.
Dial-Up Hell....and Other Stuff

This crappy AOL dial-up is killing me.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed - we're supposed to get our cable internet on Friday if all goes as planned. (I'll save my "Verizon Sucks" whine for another day.) For now, I've got internet on the kids' computer and all my good stuff (links, photos, etc.) on my no-internet computer. In addition to being slow, it makes me crazy to not have my 'stuff' right here. Hopefully my sense of humor will return with my cable internet....

So, anyway, I know you're all wondering what we've been up to. (Admit it, you have.)

1. Painting, painting, and more painting.

The Hubster is on the Mainland and I've been a Decorating Diva while he has been gone. (I have the blue paint in my hair to prove it.) I've painted the master bedroom/bathroom, Wildcard/Destructo's room, and am going to do the Blonde One's room tomorrow. (The Diva painted her own room.) I've hung curtains, framed photos, and let the Wildcard paint a mural on part of his wall. The Hubster comes home on Friday, and I'm anxiously awaiting his opinion.

Maybe I'll post pictures after I get my 'net back.

2. The Diva got a job!

It's her first job, and (so far) she loves it! She's working in a restaurant as a cashier. It's not fast-food, and it's not sit-down...it's one of those in-between places where you order your food at the counter, then sit out on the lanai and wait for your number to be called. And then you leave a big tip for the cute, perky cashier who punched in your order.....

3. It's Marathon Season already.

I've been planning to run the Honolulu Marathon in December, but thought I had more time before I had to start a real training schedule. It's an 18-week training program, and I just happened to look at the calendar this weekend and realized there are exactly 18 weeks until race day....ack!!

I was hoping to slack off a bit longer.

My schedule starts out pretty slow - three 3-mile runs this week, then a 6-miler on the weekend. It all seems so manageable at this point, but I know I'll be whining at about week 12 when my toenails are falling off and my knees are failing me.

The Blonde One and the Wildcard have been running too, and they want to run a 5-K. I found one nearby later this month and promised them we'll do it.

4. Six day-a-week soccer.

There's a three-week overlap in the base soccer season and the AYSO season, so right now the Wildcard and the Blonde One are each playing on two teams. We're juggling four different practice schedules, five days per week, and then Saturday games. Coincidentally, the Hubster is on the Mainland for two of the three overlapping weeks. Hmmmmmm....

5. The House

I hate to say it, but everything is going so smoothly with the house purchase. The inspection went well, the appraisal came back above the sales price, the financing is all lined up. Right now we're just waiting to close next week. After that we've got a few minor repairs to make, then hopefully we can get the place rented ASAP. If not, we'll start taking reservations for blogging friends who are planning a Hawaiian vacation.....

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Coincidence?

The amount of time it takes a 1 y/o to shake half the contents of a cherry juice box over two rooms is the same as the amount of time it takes me to brush my teeth.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Cutting Ties

Is it a bad thing for a parent to covertly end a child's friendship?

The Wildcard has a friend from our days in Hawaii Kai. He was a bit annoying, as was his over-achieving dad. But he was the Wildcard's best friend and I wasn't about to interfere at that point.

Now that we've moved, that child has become a huge PITA.

He calls every day, many times each day. Today I counted seven phone calls. Caller I.D. is no help because he calls from home, from his dad's cell, his mom's cell, one of the phones in his dad's office, his mom's work phone, his grandmother's house, his nanny's cell.....

He always begins the same way, in a Pollyanna voice: "Wildcard's mom? This is B. Is the Wildcard there?"

I just want to reach through the phone and strangle him.

He spent this past weekend with us, and I couldn't wait for him to go home. Not only does he talk constantly and interrupt everyone, but he lies. That's the one thing I cannot tolerate in a person - blatant, unnecessary lies.

It's always about stupid stuff. Like this weekend he was talking about I.Q.'s. He said his dad told him his I.Q. was 88, which is high for a 10 y/o because the average for 10 y/o boys is 75. The Wildcard, who has been tested numerous times and knows about this stuff, told him what his I.Q. was, and mentioned that the average is 100, no matter the age. The Friend backtracked and said, "Oh, I meant 188. Mine is 188. They told me I have the highest I.Q. of all the 5th graders at Snooty Private School
."

I'm really ready for this friendship to end, especially after today's incident.

The Friend called and, after referring to me as "Wildcard's Mom", asked to speak to the Wildcard. I lied and said he wasn' t there.

The Friend said, "Oh. I wanted to see if he could come over today."

They live 45 minutes from here, each way.

I told him we had other plans today.

He said, "Oh. My parents said that since you didn't work you could probably bring the Wildcard over this morning and pick him up again this afternoon."

Am I wrong to feel insulted by this? Sure, they go off to the office every day, leaving their kids with the nanny from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., but it's not like I'm lounging by the pool with nothing to do other than spending 3 hours of my day transporting my kid to/from The Friend's house.

Bastards.