clickmom

shoot me when I say "It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt."

On a nice day I pick Josh up from preschool and let him run around with his little buddies until I have to pick up Matt. Today, as the boys whizzed past the Moms Josh heard (eaves dropped) me mentioning to another mother that I had just come from Starbucks. Once in the car on the way to Matt, Josh questioned (interrogated) who it was that I went to Starbucks with. When I told him it was Boops, he got visibly upset (weepy) and requested (demanded) that we find Boops and go to Starbucks with her together. I finally realized that it wasn't the thought of missing a caramel frappachino (even though he never says NO to one of those) that was upsetting him, it was the jealousy of me having my own little private play date. So, I called Boops on the cell phone and put her on speaker to tell her in front of Josh that (wink wink) we wouldn't be able to meet at Starbucks anymore unless Josh was available to join us. She went along with it, and asked Josh just what he was missing, and with all the sweetness that he is about he said "Well, I said I said I wanted to go to Starbucks, but what I really wanted was to see you." Then he invited her over.

Since her kids were with her soon-to-be-ex she came over solo and watched me in the kitchen as I began to clean the dishes I have been piling up for the last 3 or 4 days. Then Josh and Evan both came over to play with Boops, and while I washed and scrubbed the three of them ran in circles around the house playing a high speed and furious game of keep-away with Josh's stick pony. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Boops come flying into the kitchen doing a ninja kind of kick in the air pose that anyone genetically related to me couldn't possibly even think of performing and also all sorts of leaps and defensive moves and really macho battle yells that totally had Evan thinking she was a martial arts expert. I could hear them peeling with laughter as they fought hand to hand combat and also monitor their whereabouts by listening to the thumping of their feet as they sped around the house. I washed and scrubbed and rinsed and all sorts of lame-o fun killing things kept creeping out of mouth like "Don't hurt her!" or "Watch out." or the worst "Someone is going to have an accident." and really I knew then what I suspected all along. Evan would be a much happier kid if I had a couple of brothers growing up.

But the game never ended, they broke briefly to scarf down a bit of dinner and then even after Boops got a splinter (and then tried to have an earnest talk with Evan over what amount he would have to pay for her pain and suffering, not to mention the emotional damages) trying to hold onto the horse stick, and Evan was forced to fake an arm injury, in an attempt to recover the stick pony, and in retaliation after Boops lifted his legs out from underneath him, and still they kept going and going. And I, in my own naturally wimpy way, kept saying "Oooh, not there." "Watch out for that." and other old lady party squashing stick in the mud stuff. Eventually Evan was panting and covered in sweat and Boops totally crashed out on the couch.

Now I get to assume my role of nail clipper, bath giver, book reader, bed tucker inner and good night snuggler, but you know Evan is still wishing that I had grown up with a couple of brothers.

he said it first

This morning when Josh woke up the husband jumped onto the bed and gave him a "smush hug." Josh was less than pleased, so I gently approached him and demonstrated the proper way to greet him with my patented "gentle kiss". Josh smiled at me as I ran off to get dressed and turned to the husband and said "Mom is my one true love." The husband asked "What am I chopped liver?" and Josh answered "Well ... yes, but you are my one true chopped liver."

glaring with recognition

You'll need background for this next little life-victory of mine so here it is: In the spring of 2000 I opened my big mouth at a PTA meeting and complained about the lame art curriculum at the elementary school. To make a long story short, 2 weeks later three other mouth openers and I completed a grant application for a $1,000 grant for a parent volunteer run art appreciation curriculum. We got the grant and the next school year we introduced a program that we designed based on suggestions from the principal and one of the other mouth openers karate teacher's kid's school. We worked our butts off, but we researched artists, put together binders of information, trained parent volunteers to teach the kids and coordinated it all with the new art teacher. It was a huge success. I would spend the next 5 years expanding and refining this program.

During the third year of this program, I was training a group of parent volunteers when Josh, then a year and a half old, needed to nurse. I picked up, discreetly nursed him to sleep, while I continued and completed the parent orientation with out skipping a beat. I felt especially good when one of the mothers came to me after the orientation and gave me a pat on the back saying she knew I was "one of those Moms" and she meant it as a compliment.

A full year later, I get a call from one of my friends, she didn't know how to tell me this, but one of the other parent volunteers present that day had issues with me nursing Josh at that meeting and because of her, people had been talking about me for a full year! This OTHER woman was going around telling the women of our town that I was unprofessional (hello? PTA is an unpaid volunteer no glory kind of job) and inappropriate. She told the rest of the rest of the neighborhood that I was nursing my 3 year old (get your facts straight lady!) in public and that she thought it was just appalling. Me nursing my kid had apparently been a hot topic of discussion at neighborhood block parties, tennis parties, cocktail hours, book groups, etc... all winter long. I was just scandalous. Give me a mother fucking break!

I was just devastated when I heard this news. I couldn't believe that after all I had done for the community (I was also in charge of the school's publicity that year, and had gotten them into the two local papers almost every week) that what people were talking about was me nursing my kid. I had to go pick up Evan at school then, and when I walked out the door, I shared this story with the first two neighbors I bumped into going to pick up their kids at school. One of them said that they too had heard the story about me, but she added, she knew Josh's age and had defended me. I went around telling people what I had heard and about half of them had been approached by somebody over the past year who had related the story to them. Now this was getting even worse- because not one person had had the guts to tell me for an entire year. I would look around at pick-up and wonder how many other people were smiling at me and chatting with me, but had been gossiping about me too. It is a bad feeling, trust me. And nursing gossip? Is this town so lame that they couldn't find an affair or a plastic surgery to gossip about?

Time after time people told me that this OTHER woman is just a mean gossip, and that no one takes her seriously. This didn't make me feel better. The thought that this OTHER woman went around saying mean things about lots of people all the time just made me even sadder, I mean, look at all the people who were actually listening to her.

I see the OTHER woman all the time, she is active in the PTA, I am active too, and she always smiles at me and says "Hi! How are you?" and I always want to freeze time around me so I can kick her in the gut and get away with it. But of course, I can't, so I don't, I just mumble and turn away. Until this morning. This morning I went into the laundromat to drop off some sheets and she was there. She said her thing, I mumbled "Fine." and slunk out of the laundromat. Once on the sidewalk I stopped myself. I took Josh's hand and told him Mommy was about to be mean to the lady coming out so he had to just stand there and listen and not interrupt. When she came out I told her that I wasn't talking to her and that she had to know why. I told her that I knew she had been talking about me and that I was shocked that she chose to discuss my private business after all the good things I had done for the benefit of all of our children. I told her that what I did with my kids was my business, and that even though Josh was only a year and a half when she started this false rumor, I would have nursed him when he was three if that is what he needed, but that wasn't the point. I reminded her that I had created that program and worked that art committee for 5 years. I repeated that of all the things a person could say about me, it was just shocking that this is what she chose to discuss. And she said "I didn't tell that many people." I told her she told enough people that it was still being discussed a year later, and that telling anyone was telling too many. She apologized and I waved her off and said "That's not good enough, you need to think about this before you open your mouth next time." She stood there, shell shocked. I turned and walked away. It may have taken me 3 years to stand up for myself, but I did, and it felt great. And best of all, now when I see her I can glare at her from across the room and she'll know why.

Guess who is on the rag?

There are so many things that I could spin into post material today, exceppt that I am tired and CUH-RANKY as usual, so I am just going to give you, dear reader, the abbreviated version.

First of all, we took the kids to see Bodies The Exhibition today.  If you can see this: do so.  It was awesome.  I had heard what to expect from a few friends, so my kids were prepared for what there was.  Most people thought the worst part was the one small room with fetus and newborns in it (this room is intentionally by passable for anyone who does not wish to see it) but my kids thought that the scariest part was that the ppreserved bodies were not boxed up in a glass case.  They thought it was freaky that they could have touched them.  And don't think for one minute that Evan didn't try.  He continuously gestured and swung his hands just a little too close, forcing me to be the nagging mother warning him time after time that all the signs said we weren't allowed to touch.  I thought the grossest part was that some of the bodies were a little dusty and it wasn't the nice soft kind of television screen dust, it was the sticky looking range hood kitchen cooking kind of dust. I so wanted to touch it too. All three kids thought the room with the babies was fascinating.  They never questioned where the adults came from, but they did need reassurance that the babies had died of some other cause before their bodies were used for the exhibit.

Evan did make one priceless comment though.  My darling culinary adventurist, who will try anything at least once, noted the visual similarity between the human muscles on the people in the exhibit, and beef jerky. 

Afterwards we had some lunch, and then came home.  Since both Evan and Josh konked out in the car, we decided to go to the movies tonight.

We saw Over The Hedge. It was OK. Five minutes into the movie a family came in and sat in front of us. You gotta love an adult who thoughtlessly sits in front of a five year old, when there are other easily available options. Then you gotta love her even more when she puts her feet up on the seat in front of her, as if she is fifteen years old and doesn't realize there are other people in this world, so no one in their right mind would sit there. Then you gotta want to hug her until she turns blue when you realize that her kid is so sick that she is shooting lugers all over the theater every three minutes when she explodes into fits of coughing, and then you look at your husband every 3 minutes when the kid explodes to plead with your eyes "Can I slap her upside the head? Please?? Will you come to my defense?" And you cry a little inside because your husband's eyes say "NO." I feel like I have fulfilled my quota of G rated movies, and just can't excited about them any more. At least I didn't fall asleep. The hacking of the kid in front of us kept me conscious. After the movies we went to dinner at a chain Italian restaurant. We were seated next to another family of 5. That is about all we had in common with these people. The kids were misbehaving, the parents were loud mouthed, and then the Mom, in her over the top Tony Soprano accent started berating the waiter for less than adequet food, and insisted on seeing a manager. I couldn't help staring because, well, I am rude and have been known to stare, but also because she had sideburns, a big brow ridge and an underbite and all I could think of is that Geico commercial with the insulted cavemen in the restaurant and one orders the roast duck and the other lost his appetite. All the while, I am also thinking, "Lady, you are not in a fine dining situation here, and from the looks of things, and I can say this because you are about my size, you don't turn your nose up at too many entrees, so just shut your pie hole and eat!" But the manager came over, and I watched this freshly scrubbed 22 year old guy sweet talk and placate this woman until she was satisisfied, and did shut her pie hole. That is until she had checked out the desert menu, and decided to get hers to go.

NYC vs The Burbs

it is all a matter of perception

Evan had a great time at a friend's Memorial Day Barbeque tonight. He ran with the other kids for over 4 hours until I had to lead him into the car to go home. He was so happy and tired when we got home that he was all chatty and kept going on and on about the games they had played, the teams they made, who did what and of course which kids got into trouble. Then he said "Oh yeah, and I will never tell anyone that you abuse me again."

backseat Evan strikes again

Josh is getting interested in phonics. He is being introduced to the concept at his Montessori preschool and it intrigues him. In the car today he asked me if a certain word began with the letter "A". This inspired me to list a few examples of kid friendly A words. I came up with lively examples like apple, ankle, and ape. Evan, from the back seat catches phonics fever and spews forth of a few of his own special Evan inspired examples of "A." Evan's choices include assassination, assault, atomic, A-bomb, and his all time favorite word of his 8th year: antidisestablishmentarianism.

what not to say

husband: Hey, you wanna......you know...
clickmom: What?!? Are you kidding me? Do you see how stressed out I am? I have photos to edit, an article to write, dishes, laundry....
husband: well it just seems to me that you had your ..y'know .... about a month ago, and .. I ... Um... thought, well .... I had ... better ... get it in now.....

2 days -4 dentist appointments and 3 chiroprator appointments a swim and a pilates later...

Here is how  "Dental Hell 2006" went down for the last two days:

Monday:
Wake up crying because the whatever pain I was in over the weekend was nothing compared to the new and improved pain I was experiencing.  Call the chiro to schedule earliest appointment, and since he said he said I should come after I saw the dentist so I made two appointments, one for 9:20 and one for 11:40.  Get the once over from the chiro, cry while describing the pain.

Show up at the periodontist to get the bridge recemented in, and try to explain to her the very unique and changing pain odyssey I have been on.  She looks at me like I am crazy, mentions the word NEURALGIA and sends me off to the regular dentist (along with the removed bridge in an envelope and a new prescription for a muscle relaxer) who is finally back from vacation.  

The regular dentist gives me more of a confused than a "you're crazy" look, and when his assistant comes back with my bridge in two pieces from the air pressure of the cleaner, I put two and two together and realize that the periodontist must have cracked it when she was reinserting it after my surgery last month and we heard the crack but didn't see anything at the time.  This would explain the TMJ.  The bridge had been misaligned for a month.  I told the dentist that in the meanwhile my rear molar was starting to have it's own heart beat, and he was concerned.

The regular dentist repaired and reinserted the bridge and I could feel the difference.  It was finally right.  He diplomatically told me to come see him right away the next time some other professional put it in wrong.  Meanwhile he took molds for a temporary night guard for me to wear to stop me from clenching so hard when I sleep.  He said we had to "watch" the tooth with the heart beat and that I should call him right away if there were any changes.

By the time I left the regular dentist I could tell the chiro had really found what was bothering me because all the pain had begun to drain away.  I went back for another treatment.  Then I went home and built a shrine to the gods of bone alignment and got on my knees and prayed for the chiro to have a long healthy life and always be geographically convenient to me.  

Then I spent the afternoon with Boops getting her biopsy.  She was so scared and tried to hide it.  I'm scared too.

I took the muscle relaxer and went to bed.

Tuesday:
Tried to wake up.  Then I tried to wake up again.  Then I got up and peed and got back into bed.  Make myself wake up despite the total muscle relaxed brain fog and feel the heart beat in my tooth.  Say "Shit!"  Get dressed, get the two kids who have school  to school and go the the regular dentist with Josh in tow to pick up the night guard.  

Tell the regular dentist that I still feel the heart beat and that the tooth is maybe a little more tender.  He gave me a worried look and asked me to go to the endodontist because he suspected I needed a root canal. sigh.  They made me an appointment for 12.  

I went to the Y for my standard Tuesday swim, I was a bit worried I might fall asleep face down in the water, but I actually had a good swim, because I was the only one in the lone lap lane for at least 8 laps and it was the best 8 laps ever.  Then this really super fast and kinda rude swimmer came in and I got all out of my swimming zen.  I got out of breath and realized that my tooth no longer had a simple heart beat but had progressed to an all out throb.  I was glad I had the next appointment lined up.  I got out of the pool after a measly 25 minutes, but figured that I had swam for at least the 1/2 mile that will be the triathlon.  I went in the whirlpool and tried to dunk my throbbing cheek area under the water my floating on my stomach, then the teenaged lifeguard started to chat with me, and what the hell does a 19 year old know about the aches and pains of someone who could be his mother?!?

I took Josh to a store to grab some crayons and other kid time-occupying knick knacks, since I suspected the endodontist wasn't going to be a kid friendly place.   I grabbed him a (strike me down) Happy Meal, and headed over to the endo's office.  He listened to my endless tale of dental woes and took a couple of x-rays.  He said "I am pretty sure I see the beginning of an absess on that tooth."  I leaned back and made myself comfortable for the ROOT CANAL that was coming next.  8 injections of aesthetic and three minutes into the root canal I got a whiff of the most vile decay odor and knew he had hit pay dirt.  I knew that the procedure was justified.  He had put a dental dam on my mouth and my only two thoughts during the procedure were "I am so glad none of this is getting on my tongue." and "I was so smart to schedule a 4:20 chiro appointment for today."  Afterwards I asked the endo how bad it had been inside my tooth and after tales of spraying pus he declared "That root was NECROTIC." great.

I picked up Matt 10 minutes late, got to pilates 10 minutes late, convinced my instructor that I was fine for a work out despite that fact that I still had muscle relaxed thinking, half my face was completely paralyzed with novacaine and I had to talk with my teeth clenched to avoid biting off my tongue.  She was reluctant and took it easy on me, but we did do a light workout.

Then it was chiro time again.  I got another once over from him, he declared my night guard worthy of my mouth and here I am now.

Moral of the story:  Brush. floss and avoid sugary snacks.

my passionate speech of the day

Bear with me for a few seconds while I get up on my little podium here.

I really do think that money makes the world go around, to a certain extent. At least money is what motivates most people. This is why I believe in the power of the BOYCOTT. Personally, I have a few of my own quiet little boycotts going on.

If you are a washed out 80's pop star who mutilated your own face in an attempt to erase all traces of your ethnic background- then I boycott you. Your message is frightening. I do not buy your music or watch you on tv. I also change the radio station when one of your songs comes on. When you are accused of child molestation I feel my boycott is doubly justified.

If you are an action film star who who dismisses the very serious medical condition that I myself suffered from after my own first pregnancy/delivery and many other women suffer from too, then I boycott you. Not only will I not see your films in the theater but I won't rent them or even read the book once I find out you are starring in the movie version. Your industry has to take a stand and the almighty dollar speaks. Mine says you are out.

If you are the Garden State's homosexual ex-governor and in some kind of delusional state you decide to write a book detailing your sexual promiscuity with both women and men while you search for your true sexual identity during your two marriages to two unsuspecting wives then I will boycott that book. And I will beg everyone I know to boycott it too. I do not boycott your book because of differing political views, although getting your unqualified lover a high security job was a really ballsy move, comma, but because once upon a time you were a lying cheating adulterous husband who betrayed your wife and children, and I will not support that kind of behavior. You have a lot of nerve, scumbag.

I am stepping off the podium now.