Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Today CNN trotted out Wynton Marsalis to talk about New Orleans in the wake of Katrina (we are trotting out everyone famous who ever was from there, went there, had a friend who visited once etc - apparently) but regardless the conversation turned to Louis Armstrong and a video of Old Satchmo started being shown.
Louis runs up to the screen and says "Louie Armstrong? Louie ARMSTRONG? Mommy that guy said Louie Armstrong! I know Louis Armstrong!"
So I said "Oh you do?"
And he says "Yeah Mommy, he's in Star Wars, he's with Yoda he's got that Lightsaber and fights those bad guys."
I may never stop laughing.
Monday, August 29, 2005
- Does Raspberry Ice Crystal Lite stain? GOD YES IT DOES. OH MY GOD. I dropped a cup off the side of the computer desk and WHAMMO we just bought this carpet.
- Ask me how awesome my son looks wearing the Barbie Magic Pegasus Dream (or whatever it is) necklace that came with his happy meal. Truly great. He should wear it while he serves tea. I asked for a BOY TOY you twits.
- I just got done playing almost every game we own with Louis. The fact that I am now requiring him to somewhat follow the rules seems to make them less appealing. Previously we were just trying to teach to take turns. Now I make him roll the dice or whatever and move the appropriate spaces. This seems to annoy him. The best part of playing games with dice is that when he rolls he says "Baby needs a new pair of shoes" which apparently his father taught him. It's a scream. This evening we played CANDYLAND, THE THOMAS TUNNELS AND TRESTLES GAME, and THE DISNEYLAND MONORAIL GAME. I am brain dead.
- I have learned that passing a stone is NOT like giving birth, but still hurts in it's own very special hideous way.
- And in other comments, what the hell is wrong with people that they JUST decided to leave New Orleans on Sunday? Has everyone not known that the hurricane was coming for a week? I mean, people, I knew the hurricane was coming. Been watching it for OVER a week praying it didn't make an easterly turn and wipe out Tampa Bay. I understand, people are poor, people don't have cars but CHRIST everyone knows someone. Even street people know someone. You wouldn't get groceries if you didn't know someone, right? Even the meals on wheels lady is someone. Call someone, get help. No one should have been in that town when that thing hit. It's annoying and retarded. I suppose in a very cruel fashion it's Social Darwinism at work, wiping out the weak, the poor and those without the mental faculty to direct them OUT of harms way. Seems like it just shouldn't happen here.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
So after nine months of waiting, here she is. Madison Elizabeth Brandon. The first Brandon female born in 37 years. (I was the last one).
I am crying so much at looking at his picture that it just seems silly. I am very sentimental about Matt, since he was the baby we had after our baby died when I was little.........so maybe that is why this is so special.
Anyway, Matt and April, congratulations.
I love her so much it hurts. And I can't wait to meet her.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
On another subject, we have begun potty training. Louis is quite disinterested. It seems he JUST tells us too late each time, and still goes in his pants. Lovely. I snapped this shot of him making a fine effort to poop. I had taken the camera but kept it hidden outside the door thinking I would take a cute little pic for the grandmas. I poked my head around the door to turn on the camera and get it ready and heard this rustling sound - this is what I saw when I looked back in........of course I HAD to snap!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
I ask him why he wants to know that, and he says that he thinks I've been blogging because things have been bad, we've been fighting a lot. He thought maybe I was blogging my sadness or something.
I suppose that would be the more theraputic thing to do. But there seems to be something so, well, common about throwing your dirty laundry out there for the world to read. And I don't want to be judged for the rotten things I say when I'm mad. And I don't want him to be judged. Which is why I don't invite you all OVER for our fights.
And I suppose, that I just don't want to talk about them in general. So no, I do not blog our fights.
It makes me wonder though, how many of us are out there not blogging our fights, not blogging other negativity that is really very consuming. And would it help if we did?
We no longer have the Play Yard in an Octagon,
we have it bolted to the wall, dividing the living room from the
I love picking up toys.
I don't think 8 kids in a day care could make the mess my three do.
So we bought a second set of rings for the boys to stack and play with. As you can see, Miles wasted no time in furthering his accessorzing.......
Very Stylish. Don't you think?
Sunday, August 21, 2005
When I learned I was pregnant with twins (at around week 12) I also learned that no one on the Earth ever gives birth to twins the old fashioned way. It's C Sections all around these day. It's too dangerous to give birth vaginally, it's too risky. You will probably end up needed a C Section anyway so why bother, etc etc. I was blessed with probably the best twin pregnancy in the history of the world. I had some awful morning sickness in the beginning, much worse than the first time but other than that, the pregnancy was really okay. As I progressed my boys were little troopers, both of them inverting to the vertex position right on cue and staying there just like little troopers should. But my doctors practice wouldn't even discuss trying a vaginal delivery. One of them even told me that "no one in this practice is willing to deliver you vaginally." I was really pissed off but at 36 weeks along, do you REALLY want to change OBs?
So one of the doctors I really like, a real no shit kind of chick, Dr B elected to do my C section and I had a consult with her. She was cool, made me feel pretty okay. She had delivered babies herself both ways and explained how this time would be different for me as far as how I felt etc etc. I expressed how I really really really wanted to try vaginal delivery, and she smiled and said "Well, if you show up to the hospital dialated to 4+ and in hard labor we can discuss it."
Never dare me, people. Never.
On Monday I had my appt at the hospital to prepare for my C Section on Thursday. I went to work after my appt (I worked up till that Monday, never missed a DAY) and let them know that I was going to HAVE to get the C section done and I had to stop working on Tuesday.
On Tuesday my Mom flew in to be here for the birth.
On Wednesday Morning, my husband and I started doing it like there was no tomorrow. Irritate the cervix people, irritate the cervix I tell you! At around 2pm I started to feel kind of crampy, kind of yucky. So I laid down for a nap. At 3pm I woke up and felt crampy again and then I just had this feeling, this THIS IS IT sort of feeling so I hopped in the shower for the ritualistic shaving of the legs and armpits. When I got out I dressed in some comfly clothes and put on a little makeup. Then I went into the living room and told my mom that maybe we better start timing these cramps I was having. That's what they felt like, cramps. Certainly NOT the worst cramps I ever had. I'm sure about 6 Motrin could have made me stop feeling them.
After an hour we determined that I was having regular 1 minute + contractions every 2 minutes.
You know what that means to me if you read my earlier birth story.
IT MEANS IT IS TIME TO EAT!
I was actually just a little put out because we had PLANNED to go to Crazy Buffet for dinner that night, sort of a last meal thing, but we opted for Sonny's BBQ instead. We rolled into Sonny's getting a table and I think the waiter was scared to death. I'm sitting there, puffing through contractions saying "More coke, please." And stuffing my face with BBQ, French Fries and texas toast. After I could eat no more I decided to call my doctor on the cell phone. It was THEN that I realized it was pretty low on battery. Oh well, I figured, I would use a pay phone.
But Sonny's had no pay phone! I went to the counter and asked the girl if I could use her phone (picture this, I'm puffing and somewhat bent over) and she says "Why?" and I said "Because I'm in labor and need to call my doctor." This sixteen year old wizkid says "I have to get my manager."
He comes out and of COURSE gives me the phone, looking terrified "Do you need anything? What can we do for you?" (translation - oh god get out of here fast!) My doctor called and said she'd meet me. This was Dr I. and I didn't know her so well, but had liked her the times I had met her.
When I got to the hospital they were in a tizzy. They already had had 3 sets of twins that day so they were FREAKING OUT. It was about 8:30 at night by the time I got there. I was dilated to 4! Yippee! The nurses couldn't find my chart, so I mentioned I was scheduled for a C Section. They found it over in surgical. The RN assigned to me in Triage asked me why I was doing a C section when my twins were vertex. And I totally started to cry. I told her how they wouldn't let me etc etc and she says "Let me talk to Dr I. She's really cool. Let me talk to her. And when you talk to her - TELL HER WHAT YOU WANT."
They were less than excited, though, to learn I had JUST eaten a full meal.
By the time Dr I showed up I was dilated to six but only uncomfortable, not miserable. She agreed, things were moving right along and that I could TRY to deliver vaginally.
In the labor and delivery room I had the king of Epidurals administer my epidural. I wish I knew his name I would write him a poem. Anyway, after that I was struck with a bout of itching that was incredible. The itching was like fire on my belly and I kept knocking the monitors off, pissing off my nurse.
The doctors told Scott it was going to be a while at around 11pm so he and Louis went home. My mom and I dozed off. At 12:30 AM it was ON. Scott and Louis raced back to the hospital and Scott arrived just as things were getting going in the operating room around 1am.
For those of you who don't know, if you try to deliver twins vaginally, they make you do it in the operating room, JUST IN CASE. They do a double set up. Surgical team to the left, OB team to the right. You have double the number of nurses ready. You have about 15 people all staring at you NAKED. It's charming. And you do it on an operating table. No fancy birthing table that is comfortable. A hard slab operating table.
The first thing I did was break the right stirrup. Broke it right off of the operating table. Put my foot right through it. This left this little tiny nurse to try to corral my right leg. Scott was on my left.
Miles was pretty easy. I pushed about 4 times and out he came. He was so little, I couldn't believe my eyes. I sobbed and sobbed "Oh god he's so little, does he have to go to the NICU?" and they all laughed "No no, he's BIG for a twin!" So then I calmed down and looked around. Labor had stopped. "What do we do now?" I asked. "We wait," the doctor said. "Wait for what?" "We wait for the labor to start back"
So we waited. And talked. The anesthesiologist informed the doctor that I ate a whole meal before coming in.......at which point, a wave of pain gripped me around the midsection and I projectile vomitted all over the surgical team. Who WERE, incidentally, scrubbed at that point.
"Ah," the anesthesologist says "There's that Sonny's!" and then three pushes later out came Charlie, who was even littler - but still "Big for a twin".
They were born at 1:14am and 1:26am respectively, and weighed 7 and 6 pounds.
The picture included is of me when contractions were 2 minutes apart and we were on our way to Sonny's.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Last night I got to spend the 4-5 hour with Charlie.
We sat up in the chair where I spent the first two weeks of his life, sitting up and rocking him and singing lullabyes. And just like then, Charlie still doesn't fit properly into my arms. Both Miles and Lou found their spot and their way to snuggle into mommies arms very quickly as babies. Charlie can't get comfortable. He doesn't want to lay on his side, tummy or back. He wiggles, he flops, he twists and turns. I try to hold him and snuggle him but he wriggles out of that hold and turns himself around. What he wants is to lay without me holding him, against me, and suck his thumb. We found a position finally at 4:45 that suited him and he finally fell back asleep.
I had dosed him good with everything I had (I am a firm believer in dosing them to cover all bases - at 4 am I don't know what your problem is and cannot do a diagnoses) so he got some Tylenol COLD and some numzit on his gums. One or the other worked on him.
But now he's up again, poor baby I can hear him coughing.
Looks like the nebulizer will be out again for a few days.
This is not one of the Hallmark Moments of motherhood.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
I have had "something to do" every night this week.
Monday - twins club.
Tuesday - I promised Louis I would take him to open play at "a play patch".
Wednesday - a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese.
I have to do inventory all day tomorrow (which involves counting and looking busy for 8 hours) and then it's Music with Mar tomorrow night.
And I have inventory all day on Friday and then I have to work again on Saturday.
Everybody can kiss my ass on Saturday and Sunday.
I am doing nothing but sleeping.
I hear you calling me this morning. You forgive that I awoke an hour late. You love me and want me to be happy, don't you Frapuccino?
Yes yes, I could SKIP breakfast and go for your 8 point full bodied self. Yes yes....I see how.
It' s meant to be Frapuccino.
I will see you soon.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
The plan was, he and my mom would both be in the room when Louis was born.
When it was ON - when suddenly I HAD to push, EVERYONE in my whole family was in the room. Pete had just brought Scott a coffee from the cafeteria and I'm saying "Get out, everyone out I have to push."
The doctors came busting in (apparently I was not speaking in the calm voice I remember, as they were not in the room at the time but HEARD me down the hall) and the nurse says "okay dad you take her left leg......."
And Scott sat down on this chair and says "I think a person should know their limitations. I need to just sit here."
So as the action occurred (which didn't take long - like 20 minutes) he just sat there, clutching his coffee cup and looking concerned. Every once in a while a nurse would say "How we doing there dad?" and he'd say "Oh I'm fine, I'm just drinking my coffee." But he wasn't - he had a death grip on that cup.
Some people are annoyed by that story - they think it's about him not helping. I think it's one of my favorite memories of him, because he was vulnerable and didn't pretend about it. He was freaked out and new he would be better off on the sideline. And he was incredibly worried but was strong enough not to completely wig out.
And regardless of who was there, it was something you just have to do on your own anyway. It was nice to be able to look over and see him there.
With his coffee.
I've never figure out how to put pictures on this dang thing.........this is a test!
IF this worked - it is a picture of newborn Louis in his bassinette.
When I had Louis, obviously, it was with a lot of nervousness. Everyone tells you every horror story that ever happened to them or anyone they know in labor (I had to have 85 stitches/I pushed for six hours/My epidural wore off/They Dropped the Baby) as well as some less generic horror stories, such as one person told me that she had a complete freak out at the hospital. She checked in, was in labor, and then at some point pre-epidural, she went into the bathroom and put on all her clothes because she decided not to do that THAT day....she was going home - needless to say that didn't work out for her.
So I took the baby classes to prepare, decided I wanted all the drugs they had AND THEN SOME and waited.
On Friday night the 28th of September I went to a birthday party for Mackenzie Sorensen. She turned three and is the little girl of my friend Renee. Renee and our friend Michele sipped wine or some other booze and I drank juice and watched little girls run around and play gleefully with new toys. I went home that night, and Scott went out to Lynagh's (the local pub) because he knew it would be one of the last nights he could go out.
The next morning at around 6am I woke up and thought, damn, I peed my pants.
I changed my underwear and went back to bed.
I woke up at 8:00 and thought, DAMN, I peed my pants AGAIN! Then I stood up to go get MORE Underpants and it hit me......I was peeing down my legs. But it wasn't pee, of course. My water broke! I shook Scott awake from the sleep of "Too much beer" and said "My water broke, it's time."
I took a shower, shaved my legs and wondered what the hell was going to happen next.
After I put on a pad, got dressed and went downstairs I called my mom to tell her today was DDAY.
I was supposed to go to a baby shower that morning - so I wrapped the gift and told Scott we'd drop it off on our way.
The most important thing I learned at my baby class was about the food. Screw the breathing and all that crap. The food. They don't feed you. Once you are there, there is no food until that baby comes out. But once the baby is out, you can eat. These were the rules I memorized.
Well it was morning, and I was hungry. So I called work and told them I was dropping off said baby shower gift as I could not come to the shower since I was in labor, then I made Scott take me to Mcdonalds where I FEASTED on an Egg McMuffin (2) and a hash brown and a large coke.
We dropped off the baby gift at work and of course everyone freaked out "where have you been" "you called an hour ago why aren't you at the hospital!?" I really thought they were overly dramatic about it....I felt fine!
Now that I had run my errands and had breakfast, I was ready to go to the hospital. When I got to the hospital I learned that my parents had been calling frantically to find out if I was there yet.
It was really a very easy delivery, I had Louis that night after 9:30. I spent my day watching the GODFATHER series on TBS, drugged to the gills, and calling people on the phone. Eventually they moved the phone because I was interfering with them doing stuff to me.
In my class, one other thing they said, was that when the baby's head would come out you were supposed to stop pushing so that they could suction out the nose or something. So when his head came out I stopped pushing and the whole delivery team screamed "Don't stop pushing!"
Damn people, I'm just doing as instructed here! Then, as his shoulder cleared the doctor said "OH MY GOD HE'S HUGE!"
This is not something you want to hear as something is departing your body. I actually pushed my mask aside and said "That isn't helping me!"
Once he was out, off everyone went. To wash the baby, to weigh the baby etc etc. Suddenly I was alone.
And very hungry.
It just so happened that I had a one pound bag of M & Ms sitting near enough to reach if I stretch my otherwise numb torso over there.
Mmmmmm. M & Ms. They were so good. I was so hungry. I scarfed down the entire bag in a matter of minutes.
Suddenly, back into the room came the doctor, a nurse and Scott. Seemed that no one realized that no one had stayed with me...........and I showered them with a rainbow of chocolate puke.
Seems that you have to wait until the anesthesia wears off before you eat........
they weren't clear on that in the class.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
IF YOU HIT MY CHINA CABINET WITH THAT LIGHTSABER ONE MORE TIME NO CHOCOLATE MILK FOR YOU!
Scott on the other hand thinks that I look like a frump (he is correct, I do look like a frump) and longs for me to look sexy in bed. He wishes I slept in sexy numbers that indicated my interest in the vodee-oh-doh that the bed area is so well known for.
I on the other hand mostly want to just sleep.
But I am not a complete jerk, nor am I insensitive to the fact that I should probably make just a little effort here - I can't just let myself go all to hell and start schlepping about in housedresses like my grandma (or could I.....NO NO NO GET A GRIP) so while I was out shopping today I saw these jammies. A camisole top (low plunging spaghetti strap thing) with either shorts or these yoga pants bottoms.
I am currently lounging here at the PC sporting the lilac color (I chose the yoga pants for bottoms, long pants in bed are a thing with me). I feel like my tits are falling out all over but I think that this is the idea. And I'm still more comfortable being around the kids in THIS than in something of the more traditional lingerie sort.
He hasn't seen it yet - we'll see what he thinks.
Suddenly Scott and I are sitting in the living room staring at each other. We weren't required to watch Children's TV. We didn't quite know what do to with our selves. So we figured out one thing to do (nudge nudge) but after we did that, we were still surprised with the sudden free time.
SO WE WATCHED A MOVIE.
We chose Napoleon Dynamite.
Oh my god. I don't know if I can describe it if you haven't seen it. If a movie can be as funny as A FISH CALLED WANDA without actually ever making me laugh, than this is that movie. I can understand why some people think it's retarded or stupid, because it's very subtle.
Scott believes that the whole movie is actually about Pedro and that Napoleon is the catalyst.
I saw a "VOTE FOR PEDRO" shirt at the mall that I think both Scott and I are going to have to have.
Alas, I know Sarah who has become a wiz at all things Blogging and she has helped me !
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Who would have ever thought that Thomas was an anti-semite? (kidding people, kidding!)
I am really bad at getting rid of things. I keep thinking I might use them, might wear them. Especially if they are not technically WORN OUT. I am trying to correct this behavior. And will be tossing out more old stuff in a gesture of my intention to get rid of clutter.
In other random comments, I took my wee ones to the mall today mostly to let them play. Here is an open letter to all of you so called good parents out there. There is a height limit to the play areas in the malls. It's there because the play areas are designed for little folks. Folks say, under 6. ( I think that is generous, it's probably like under 4 but whatever). I don't mind my kids not getting to play because the play area is full. This is Florida in Summer and we're all looking for indoor places to let the kids run and scream. But the play area is NOT FOR YOUR 10 YEAR OLDS. It is NOT A PLACE TO DUMP OFF YOUR 8, 9 and 10 YEAR OLDS While you shop at Ann Taylor. I stood in horror watching the little ones getting bapped and bonked by the big kids jumping on the play equipment (and thus tearing it up I'm sure as they are too heavy to be on it). And then I wheeled my strollers away as my littles ones screamed and cried. I hate people, I swear. What kind of a jerk are you people anyway?
Okay I'm over that.
One last thought. T.O. is a beyotch and I hope he enjoys his life in the land of great players with bad attitudes. I'm sure Keyshawn will be there with a WELCOME BASKET.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
There was this article, about "What your friends without kids are tired of". Or something like that. It was actually pretty good, as sort of annoying as it struck me. There were lots of handy things in there that I suppose those of us with kids just forget, or ignore as we deal with our other friends, those without kids. And one of the most striking things was the part about "your friends who don't want to have kids so quit hassling them."
I think what happens is that before you have kids, you stand on one shore (this is a metaphor). And everything is cool, and everything is good. I was pretty damn happy on that shore. But then you make this journey, and a LOT of the journey fucking sucks. It sucks ASS at times. But on the other side, well there is stuff you didn't know about. And while it's not all good, it is amazing. It's so much deeper and more engrossing than anything you ever felt in your life,
you just assume that other people will want to come to that place with you.
I think that sometimes we love people a lot - our friends or family, and we want them to feel this happiness, this incredible wash of joy that our children bring us, so unintentionally we try to push the burden of children on them.
We forget the burden part, because it has become like breathing to us.
But in reality, it is a burden. It is stress. It is financial hardship. And it is a commitment unlike anything else in the world. There is a great line in the movie PARENTHOOD - Steve Martin's character remarks "My whole Life is HAVE TO".
And that is what it means to be a parent. Nothing is optional anymore.
So maybe, despite our joy and our desire to share what we feel is a good thing, instead we should
appreciate that everyone is not meant to have a HAVE TO life. And maybe, just maybe, we should realize that one of the great advantages of living in this day and age is that they have made a really honest decision - they see what is involved, without our rose colored glasses, and know they don't care for it.
We should probably say GOOD FOR YOU for being honest.
And so as a footnote, I'd like to say a big GOOD FOR YOU to XTA for making the choice that was the right one for her and the family that is made of her and Ray. I'm sorry if I ever gave you crap about not having kids. I still think you are denying the world a fantastic contribution to the gene pool. But I'd rather you be happy than pass DNA on into the centuries.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
I was trying on shoes to replace my "oh so comfortable slip ons that go with nothing", I tried on a sassy little pair that really didn't qualify, a pair of Kenneth Cole that were extremely sparkly and jaunty - I really liked them although they too were a bit too high maintenance, and some Naturalizers that were really more in line with my shopping mission.
I just recently had my feet measured and they told me I wear a 9 1/2 M. But in all of these shoes I noticed my HEEL didn't quite fit the shoe, it hung over the sides a little bit - they looked kind of weird. They were just cut narrow or something, or my feet have fattened.
Scott even pointed it out and said I should ask if they had a wide.
So we did when the lady came back. I was pretty much set to drop down quite a bit on shoes, I probably would have bought two pair at least, and this BITCH looks at me as if I had asked her if they had shoes made out of Jews.
"Wide? No we don't carry wide, SORRY" she says condescendingly and with a tone that had suggested I had implied she might supply me with somethy OOGIE- like a dead kitten.
This is seriously the most retarded thing I have ever heard.
It's a DEPARTMENT STORE.
They sell clothes for fat people, skinny people, young people old people.
Hence the term - DEPARTMENT STORE.
Perhaps I should have asked her where the fat shoe department was.
This is reminding me of XTAs run in with, who was it, DSW? Anyway, I was so embarrassed I actually wanted to cry, isn't that stupid. It was like she was shaming me or something.
Scott saved the day on the way out and picked up a beautiful little Liz Claiborne bracelet and insisted I buy it so I did, which made me happy. He tried to get me to buy a purse too but it wsa too close to the shoe department. My fat feet felt inferior there.
Lucky we caught that one, eh?
And he's been throwing things, some of which tag the babies in the head - last night I took one in the glasses from his Lightsaber (we were watching STAR WARS - he was being DARTH VADER apparently). So we've had some serious disciplinary discussions "If you do that to Charlie you might kill him, Charlie would die and we'd have no more Charlie...." etc.
Apparently he's got it, at least sort of.
A couple of nights ago he winged a HOTWHEELS car and it banged into my china cabinet - barely missing the glass of the door. After I got done warming up his behind I'm down on my knees holding his upper arms giving him the old "Do you understand how dangerous it was to do that? You could have been hurt if that glass broke! If that glass broke...."
and he cuts me off and says "Lou would die, and then mommy and daddy would have no more Lou. Lou would be gone forever."
Oh my god. I burst into tears. Which I think upset him more. He crawled up on my lap and told me I was his sweetheart and not to cry that Lou was still here.
But still......I suppose I just can't even stand the thought of it said so matter of factly.
At least he's maybe getting the concept........
I don't really know how to say why I'm so worried, or why I let it consume me like this. We all remember where we were or how we heard about Challenger, and Columbia (with Columbia the irony was I didn't turn on my TV for quite a while that morning - I thought stupid AOL had failed to mention their return). I woke up my husband, shook him from a sound beer induced slumber sobbing about the shuttle and that he had to wake up.
Why did I do that? I still don't understand it, except that maybe I didn't want to be that sad and all alone.
And why do I care now? Maybe it's because I feel like these people have been put into harms way for no good reason. Soyuz could go up and transfer goods to the International Space Station. Crappy old Soyuz works just fine. We watched the lift off at my work, and it was just so moving. Everyone watching on the TV then suddenly everyone ran outside because apparently on a clear day you can see the launches, even from Tampa. And while it was exciting I wasn't really all that worried about lift off. They figured out the O ring problem and conclusively their fix has worked over the last decade.
But this foam thing, and now the string hanging off the wing thing, and now the window curtain thing (are they going to fix that one?) I feel like the shuttle is falling apart, and their are PEOPLE on it.
When I was little, first and second grade, the WEEKLY READER would have stories about how some day we would fly to space on these ships that would land like airplanes. It was fantastic and so exciting for the future. I can remember taking my WEEKLY READER home and showing that picture to my dad, what the new space ships would like like. And he would tell me about how the day the men landed on the moon was his birthday - and he held me on his lap and it was
an exciting wonderful day.
Why did we pull the string out? WHY? The string, if I understand it, is like a fibrous grout between the tiles. It is made of some "able to withstand the heat of the sun" fabric that keeps the air and heat from getting between the tiles and melting the shuttle during re-entry.
AND WE PULLED IT OUT.
Is there more string under there? Do we now have two tiles with less than enough fiber between them to withstand re-entry.
NASA YOU BETTER KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING BECAUSE I AM LOSING MY MIND.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
I am a bit of a purse fiend, and while I do not have a lot of purses, I like to carry a nice one.
I am bit like Clarice Starling ....with my good bag and my cheap shoes........but I digress....
In my current Prada jewel that my hubby bought me (it's actually a black monster, it's big) I am currently toting:
- One pseudo Louis Vuitton nail care kit
- One receipt from walmart 12.45 - says it was for some cards (birthday) and a "4guageliner" which I do not understand what that was.
- A check stub
- a kleenex of dubious cleanliness
- A money order receipt for my rent
- A Subway dinner order written on a post it (12 inch tuna on white with swiss, green pepers, onions and tomatoes, a meatball sbu with provelone, tomatoes and peppers, a 12 inch BMT and a kids meal- turkey and cheese)
- one of those envelope things they give you cash back in at the bank
- a 2005 monthly calendar that I write birthdays in and then never open after January
- My last 104k statement from ARAMARK
- A weight watchers points tracker
- a check stub
- a check stub
- a check stub
- a strange square envelope (empty)
- my business cards
- a check stub
- a check stub
- a check stub
- a check stub
- a check stub
- A copy of the HIPAA act from some random doctor's office
- One receipt from Arbys on Waters avenue (roast beef combo with curly fries)
- One bandaid
- 4 more check stubs
- a copy of my mortgage pre-approval letter
- My Lowry park zoo family pass info
- a check stub
- A receipt from Starbucks(one venti coffee with cream and sugar, and a slice of lemon pound cake)
- A black barrette
- A receipt from Louis's pediatrician for my co-pay
- 2 Pens, one blue one black
- 2 antacids
- Another bandaid
- Receipt 30 in gas from 7-11
IN MY WALLET
Don't even get me started.....
In my lipstick case
14 different lipsticks, and 4 lipglosses.
Most of which I never actually wear.
Man, I DO carry around too much stuff.
Monday, August 01, 2005
This morning was one of those mornings.
I woke up with this headache I still can't explain. It was blinding. It was all consuming. I could barely see the phone to dial in to work to tell my boss I wouldn't be in. I actually lay down on my living room floor for a few minutes after having made the call, trying to decide what could be wrong. My joints all ached, my back hurt - I was miserable. I stuffed some advil and some coke in me (coca cola people) and crawled back into bed.
Where I slept the day away. I got up for breakfast. I got up for lunch. I returned to my comfy pillowed heaven where silence and warmth swaddled me for most of the day.
Then I woke up this evening and it was gone. Just gone.
I feel like I wasted a whole day, but I also feel completely recharged. I am, as I type, enjoying a beer (Sam Adams Summer Ale) and pondering today's headache. Was THAT a migraine? I had "tension" headaches when I brought Louis home, and they were bad. This wasn't even in the same ballpark. Compartively - a tension headache is like stubbing your toe - vs. today's headache being like having your head cut off, with a spoon.
My mom has been a migraine person in the past, although never one of those "give me imitrex or give me death" migraine people. I wonder if I am becoming one?