… there really isn’t a point. This is just me, trying to make sense of my jumbled thoughts. Bear with me …
Health issues – they’re on my mind. I just recorded my thoughts to put into another barely audible post … and then promptly deleted it because it sounded so pathetic.
The bottom line? I need to go see a doctor. The other bottom line? I loathe doctors. L-O-A-T-HE them.
I’m having a rather large digestive problem. I’ve been having this same problem on and off for the past two years and have assumed it’s simply because I’m getting older and well, a body changes as it gets older. And I can adjust my diet AS LONG AS it doesn’t mean giving up sugar and/or caffeine.
But guess what? I have constant pressure now and I’m thinking it’s because of sugar.
I think I will make an appointment with the family doctor (that I’ve never seen personally – he’s Kevin’s doctor).
And I think a small part of me died just admitting that I might possibly, and I say MIGHT, have a problem that I simply can not control.
Speaking of doctors, I got a notice in the mail Saturday – the school is asking to see Jazz’s booster shot record.
Which I thought I had at one time, but can’t find now.
I took both boys in to have their booster shots two years ago – Dude was 14, Jazz was 12. And I gave the school Dude’s record, but for some idiotic reason, thought I would wait to give Jazz’s school his record and oh look! I can’t seem to find Jazz’s record now.
Do you know what this means?! I’m going to have to make a trip to Jazz’s doctor’s office and get a copy.
Do you know how much I hate jumping through hoops?
Jumping through hoops is as bad as …
Well, it sucks as much as …
The whole thing stinks like …
I just hate it, okay?
I think I just made my mother-in-law mad.
I don’t DO the phone. I don’t talk on it. I don’t answer it. I don’t use it. I figure, if someone wants to talk to me bad enough, they can leave a message. Or better yet, pop me an email, which I’ll see right away and respond to.
But the actual act of talking?
Yuk.
I have no idea why I feel this way. And I get worse as the years go by. I would just rather communicate via email / Twitter. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.
So, when someone *coughMILcough* calls, and calls and calls, over and over and over again, like 50 times in ten minutes, I get annoyed. And when I assume it’s one of the boys’ friends calling to harass us and I make one of them answer it, only to find out it wasn’t a friend but my MIL and I get snappy with her because she wants to drop by, for no apparent reason when we just saw her last weekend so honestly, what else is there to catch up on and I suspect the real reason she’s calling is to ONCE AGAIN try and guilt me into agreeing into going out to eat on Mother’s Day when I haven’t wanted to do that for, oh, the past five years or so …
*takes a breath*
I get cranky.
In case anyone is confused, let me clear something up – I will not be coerced into doing something that
A. I think is a total waste of time
and
B. I don’t want to spend the day, MY special day doing.
Let me explain:
When the boys were little, and by little I mean early grade school little, I felt pressured into going out to eat on Mother’s Day with Kevin’s family. Fine. Whatever.
I did it, and I hated it. Not because of my in-laws, but because Mother’s Day? Is like the busiest day of the year for restaurants because most moms? Don’t like to cook on Mother’s Day.
So, not only was the restaurant noisy? It was packed. And we ended up waiting an hour to be seated. And then, we had to squeeze into our humongous table (because every one HAD to go, and we’re talking 20 of us) and it would take forever for anyone to take our order, and even longer for the food to arrive and this entire time, I’m busy trying to keep two antsy boys busy while trying to hold a conversation with my family members and yeah, it was just not fun for me.
By the time we finished the meal from hell? Half of the day was gone. And I hadn’t even had time to go see my mom, or spend any time with my guys or do what I wanted to do before the day was over.
It got to the point where I HATED Mother’s Day because of the dreaded Mother’s Day lunch thing.
So, about five years ago, I finally got the balls to say, “um, no. Thanks. We’ll skip the dinner and come see you guys later.”
MIL? Not happy.
Me? Was too pissed to care.
Instead, we did what I wanted to do. We loaded up our bikes, packed up a lunch and drinks, rode the bike trails and had fun just spending time together and enjoying nature. No crowded restaurants. No wasted time. Just peace and relaxation.
But every few years, my MIL gets it into her head that suddenly, I’m going to forget my aversion to eating out and do what she wants me to do.
*pointed look* Will the woman never learn?
And so, it has begun. The calls. The guilt trip. The trying to get Kevin to side with her and “persuade” me to go along with her plans.
Kevin is a smart man. He stays out of it. Mother’s Day is my day. I’m more than happy to go visit her and spend some time with her, I’m a fair person, and I’m more than willing to compromise, but I will not waste the entire day JUST doing what she wants to do and forget about seeing my mom or doing something fun with my guys.
Newp. Ain’t gonna happen.
And so, the Mother’s Day saga continues …
Am I total loser because when Jazz’s 8th grade band performs at College of the Ozarks this Thursday I’m more concerned that he takes care of his shiny, new saxophone than I am for him?
I should totally win Mother of the Year, right? *snicker*
College of the Ozarks is only 45 minutes away from Springfield. So, I’m not overly concerned about him being away from me. I mean, if I can handle him traveling to Pittsburgh Kansas, which is 2 1/2 hours away, then I can certainly handle a measly 45 minutes, right?
But this trip will be with the ENTIRE 8th grade band, (last trip was just the jazz band), which is like 100 students. There is going to be a lot going on – and he’ll be with all of his friends. He’s going to be majorly distracted. And he doesn’t have the best track record of keeping track of his stuff. (Lost library books, jackets, money, etc).
So, I’m just a little concerned he won’t keep track of that new saxophone of his.
But I suppose I need to get over it, right? He’s going to be traveling with his new saxophone a lot next year, I mean, that’s the reason we bought him that saxophone to begin with – we certainly want him to use it.
If he was traveling JUST to perform, I wouldn’t be that worried. But their performance is at 9:00 – they will be spending the rest of the day at Silver Dollar City. This means, that after his performance, he’ll need to change out of his dress clothes, which means, he’ll have those dress clothes to keep track of. PLUS his phone. PLUS money to pay for meals, souvenirs, ON TOP OF his instrument and music.
I’m afraid that might be too much for him to keep track of.
We’ll see.
I wish I could go. I think it would not only be fun to watch his performance, but to hang out with the kids at SDC and take goofy pictures. (Hey! I’m cool enough to hang with a bunch of 14-year olds).
Of course, I think this would be cool. Jazz? Not so much.
One of Jazz’s friends’ dad is planning on going. At first, I thought he was playing chaperone, but Jazz told me that his music teacher said she believed the kids were old enough not to need a chaperone and that there weren’t going to be any.
Jazz said he felt sorry for this friend because his dad just smothers him. He won’t let him out of his sight and in fact, won’t even allow him to have any sort of interaction with friends online (and I can understand that, there is a lot of crap that goes on online, too).
This was a great opportunity to talk to Jazz about the importance of trust and that I could understand this parent’s need to protect his child – we all feel that way. But there comes a point in a child’s life where you simply HAVE to trust him.
BUT, I also pointed out that there is always two sides to a story so maybe Jazz’s friend had given his parents a reason NOT to trust him. One never knows what is going on and we shouldn’t get in the habit of judging a situation, especially when we don’t have all the facts.
I think our talk really showed Jazz how much we trust him. And I hope he continues to understand how precarious that trust is – take care of it.
I’ll be interested in hearing how that whole “hanging out with so-and-so’s dad” goes though.
Our local newspaper publishes school incident reports. And I’ve been rather obsessed with reading them lately.
These incidents relate to alcohol, drugs, weapons and sexual assaults that happen on school grounds. There are terribly sobering, and disturbing, to read. It’s hard to imagine these children get themselves into so much trouble. And it breaks my heart to read them because I can’t help but wonder just what in the world is going on in their family life that they feel like they have to act out like that.
I just pray Dude doesn’t ever feel like he has to do something as drastic to get whatever attention these other kids are craving.
It also makes me wonder just what kind of environment is Dude really in and how much is he NOT telling me?
I refuse to get scared about it though. Reality sucks and shielding our kids from the ugly side of life is only hurting them in the long run. My boys will just have to learn to deal with troublemakers and all sorts of unsavory influences – I’ll just have to trust, and pray, they make the right choices when it’s their time to choose a pathway.
Because they will have to choose – ALL children will have to choose at some point in their lives. Don’t fool yourself into thinking otherwise.
Information is power. Parents, talk to your kids – they need our guidance.
Lastly: A note to my RSS readers – my apologizes about the Barely Audible article that posted. It wasn’t supposed to. Grr.