Archives for August 2008

Haiku Friday: For The Kids…Or Not

I drive down the road
The radio plays softly
to not bother kids

My fingers are cold
the A/C roars to reach the
backseat passengers

I’m uncomfortable
But it’s a small price to pay
for happy children

Suddenly I have
a revelation: I am
alone in the car

So, anyone else
torture themselves needlessly?
No? Uh…me neither.

Isn’t it amazing what we do for our kids? Cordy hates loud music, so I always keep the music low in the car for her. Mira gets warm quickly, so even though I’m freezing, I keep the air conditioning cranked up to get back to her. So when I realized I was driving without kids today, I felt like an idiot for suffering needlessly. I quickly cranked up the music, turned down the A/C, and relaxed into my seat.

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below or at Jennifer’s blog with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your generic blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, contact Jennifer or myself.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! We will delete any links without haiku!



Murphy’s Law & Unexpected Kindness

As I mentioned recently, we lost our health insurance last Thursday, and we’re currently in the process of getting the kids onto state health insurance, just until Aaron can find a new job.

Thankfully, we have two healthy girls. Mira has seen the doctor once outside of normal well-child visits. Cordy has only been twice for a sick visit in nearly four years. So what are the chances that the girls would get sick in this small window of no insurance?

On Friday, Mira ran a high fever. I was sure we would have to take her to the doctor because she was so hot. However, I treated it with ibuprofen at home and after a few days it went away on its own. Whew – crisis averted.

But over a week ago Cordy started to develop some red spots around her mouth. Then they turned into weepy sores. I thought at first that maybe she had eaten something that caused an allergy, but they only got worse, not better, and then they started to spread to her chin.

I called the doctor last week (while we still had insurance), and they told me it was probably impetigo and to put some antibiotic ointment on it and it would be fine. They didn’t want to see her. I did as instructed, but on Sunday I could see it was still getting worse.

Of course. The child who never needs to see the doctor now needs to see one. Even worse: she’s the one who has epic meltdowns at the doctor’s office.

So I looked over our options, and the cheapest was to visit a little clinic inside our local grocery store. It was only $59, versus over $100 at the doctor or urgent care. We waited our turn, with Cordy being amazingly well-behaved considering we were going into a medical setting. After half an hour, Cordy’s name was called by a gentle looking older woman.

We walked into the office, and the woman – a nurse practitioner – could immediately see our problem. She pulled on some gloves and took a closer look at Cordy’s face while I explained the history of the sores and how I’ve treated them so far. She agreed it was impetigo.

“Have you been here before?” she asked.

“No.”

“What insurance do you have?”

At this point I explained that we had none at the moment, due to my husband losing his job. She nodded, glanced at her computer with the new patient form waiting to be filled in, then turned back to us.

“Well, I can write her a prescription to clear that up. And don’t worry about a charge for the visit.”

My jaw fell open. “Are…are you sure?” I asked. (And yes, later I thought to myself WHY DID YOU QUESTION HER? Take the free offer and run!)

“Oh yes, don’t worry about it. I’ve had to do so many sports physicals for kids today, with all the paperwork that goes with them, that this is a relief! Let me go check with the pharmacy and find the least expensive option for you to clear this up.”

As she left the room to consult with the pharmacist, I reflected on her generosity. She had no reason to do it. After all, this place was designed for those who don’t have insurance or need to see someone after regular office hours, and she gets paid for seeing patients. The visit fee isn’t cheap, but it’s far cheaper than other options.

I couldn’t even consider Cordy as the cause. While I never encourage it, Cordy’s inability to deal with certain situations has resulted in being ushered to the front of line or given quick service in the past, probably to get rid of us as rapidly as possible.

But this time Cordy was brilliant, and I was so proud of her. She stayed in her seat, with only minor quirky behavior and even let the nurse touch her – unheard of behavior for this child! Cordy actually focused on the nurse when she spoke to Cordy, too. I wondered if this nurse was secretly some kind of spectrum-child-whisperer, and could she please come home with us?

When she came back into the room, she told me that the first choice of treatment for impetigo was very expensive, but the second choice was an antibiotic that comes in a generic form for roughly $20. I agreed to that, and she wrote the prescription. We chatted for a few minutes about nursing school and she gave me tips for finding a job after graduation. I thanked her at least ten more times before we left. She asked Cordy for a hug, and again the stars aligned and the heavens parted to shine down on this nurse as Cordy gave her a big hug.

Times may be tough, but there are good people out there doing what they can to help. We all – no matter our situation – have the ability to help others in some way, even if it’s something as small as saying a kind word or giving a friend a hand with moving. (Or participating in Blog the Recession.) I hope I can pass on to others the benevolence given to me.

Our kindness to each other shows humanity at its best, and reminds me that just maybe the world isn’t the cold, selfish, impersonal place that I often worry it’s becoming.



More Cordy-isms: The Passive-Aggressive Edition

“Mommy, I have a cold.”

“Oh, really? I’m sorry to hear that, Cordy.”

“I need ice cream to feel me better.”

“Are you saying you want some ice cream?”

“No, I need ice cream to feel me better.”

————-

“Mommy, what’s the word on the street?”

“I don’t know, what’s the word on the street?”

“Sandwich!”

“Are you trying to tell me you want lunch?”

“Yes.”

————

“Do you miss your grandma, Cordy?”

“Yes! Grandma wants to see me now!”

“Do you mean you want to see grandma?”

“No, grandma wants to see me now!”

————

“Oh-my-dear! My tummy is rumbly!”

(The fact that she exclaims “Oh my dear!” is perhaps the cutest thing in the world.)

————

“Mommy, car is saying something!”

“What’s the car saying, sweetie?”

“Home!”

“Do you mean you want to go home?”

“Yes. Car takes me home.”

————

As you can see, my child never wants anything. At least she never wants anything directly.



Maybe I Should Save For A Tummy Tuck?

I had the fortune to get an evening away with my husband – sans children – last night. We went to the Dublin Irish Festival because Gaelic Storm was playing. The concert venue seating was already full when we got to it an hour and a half early, so we found the best standing room area behind a row of seats and waited, unwilling to give up the best chance at seeing the stage.

As expected, other people believed if they just pushed in further, they could find better spots, even though we could see there was nothing left inside. So we had to deal with a steady stream of people squeezing and pushing past us. Some were rude about it (and drunk), others were trying to be polite. My feet endured the crushing weight of a few big drunk guys on them as they shoved their way into the crowd.

Early on, one lady squirmed her way around Aaron, looked at me said, “Excuse me, mama, comin’ through!” Her eyes had drifted to my belly when she said “mama” and as soon as she passed by I turned to Aaron.

“Did you hear that? She thinks I’m pregnant!”

“No, I didn’t hear her. I’m sure it was just a mistake, since the girl next to us is pregnant.”

And I tried to think of any reason to dismiss her comment. Maybe she calls everyone mama? Maybe she saw the kid next to us, belonging to the group with the actually pregnant woman, and thought he was with us? Maybe I was standing at an awkward angle?

But then just before the concert started, people began to switch direction and come out from the center, realizing there was no where to sit or stand comfortably in there. As one group tried to get past us, a woman pointed right at me and yelled back to her friend behind her, “Be careful, let’s not squish the pregnant lady!”

Somehow, Aaron completely missed that comment, too. But I was mortified. Everyone thought I was pregnant, and pregnant enough to confirm it out loud. But I know that no amount of sucking in my stomach can help me look better because it isn’t just the muscles or fat. It’s loose skin, left over from two pregnancies.

I’m working on tightening those muscles, and I’m still working out to get rid of any excess fat, but I don’t think the skin will ever bounce back. My only solution for now is to wear Spanx whenever I don’t want to look pregnant, because they do a great job at compressing all of that loose skin and flattening my stomach again. Maybe someday I’ll save up for a tummy tuck to remove that loose skin so I don’t look like I’m 4 month away from diapers, burp cloths, and every two hour feedings.

Although if it’s true that everyone at the concert thought I was pregnant, they were all being assholes by not offering me a seat. After standing in one spot for two and a half hours, I think I might have considered sticking out my stomach a little more if it would get me a seat.



Haiku Friday: Can You Help A Fellow Blogger, Sister?

Have you heard the news?
Bad stuff is happening to
bloggers everywhere.

Some are losing jobs
Others losing health or life –
Bad times all around

As for me, today
for the first time ever I
have no insurance

Jobs are still scarce here
Aaron applies daily but
The phone is silent

Want to help others?
Join Kristen in August to
Blog the Recession

It’s very simple:
Click through to read your blogs on
the actual URL

Such a simple act
Can boost ad revenue for
your favorite bloggers

It’s a brilliant idea. Since it seems like hard times are falling over many right now, why not commit to help each other out? We may all be short on money, but it doesn’t take much to click the post title in your feed reader and read it on the actual blog.

I’ve already been doing a version of this for some time. If there is a post that I particularly like, I will find an interesting ad (like a Google Ad) for that blogger and click on it to earn them a little more money. I’m willing to look at interesting ad to help a fellow blogger out. Along with a comment, it’s my way of saying thanks – like leaving a tip in a tip jar, only you don’t have to give any money, just a little time. You can grab a button and join in over at Motherhood Uncensored.

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below or at Jennifer’s blog with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your generic blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, contact Jennifer or myself.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! We will delete any links without haiku!

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