Category: Life

Kevin had another gig at The New Key Largo Saturday night. I hadn’t planned on going (truly, hanging out at the bar is just not my bag and I’ve already gone to every other one of his gigs), but Kevin called me about 8:30 to ask me to bring him his guitar stand (we only live about five minutes away from the place) and considering his mom and uncle were there, I started to feel guilty and stayed.

When I asked Kevin’s mom where his dad was, she said he wasn’t feeling very well. He has a hernia right around his stomach and sometimes it acts up and he has to wear a belt to push his intestines back in. (Aren’t hernias the grossest thing?)

The band did really well, as usual. They messed up a few times, but you know, no one cares. We’re all there to have a good time and the band never gets uptight about the mistakes so the audience doesn’t get uptight and it’s all good.

The place was packed. In fact, the owner later told the guys that that was one of the few times they had a full house.

I think that made the band feel really good. And it also prompted The New Key Largo to book them for another gig in both November and December.

I didn’t drink that night. I had just taken some Tylenol (female problems) and I didn’t want to make myself sick, so I stuck with Sprite. Our waitress (who is just the cutest thing and so sweet), gave my uncle-in-law (who’s mentally challenged) free sodas so I left her a pretty big tip just because I

A. I appreciated her generosity and

B. Did I mention she was the sweetest thing?

My sister and brother-in-law showed up. They have got to be the busiest people I’ve EVER known (no seriously, every single moment of their days and nights are spoken for – they homeschool, travel out of town for sports’ games for one son, see plays because another son is heavy into little theater, are very active in their church and drop everything for everyone) and yet, they still found time to drop by and support Kevin.

I thought that was so sweet.

I didn’t end up staying for the whole thing. Kevin’s family took off after the second break (about 11:30) and I left with them. I had parked at the end of the parking lot (because I mentioned they were packed, right?) and my sister and brother-in-law nearly scared me to death because they drove to my side of the lot to make sure I had gotten to my car alright.

I felt special. 😀

My mother-in-law (MIL) left a little earlier because she was worried about my father-in-law (FIL). And for good reason, the man was really sick.

My MIL called Kevin at about 10:00 Sunday morning to tell him that she had ended up taking my FIL to the hospital. This was very disturbing news because my FIL is one of those people who never go to the hospital. In fact, this would be his very first time he had had to go to the hospital because of his health.

Apparently, my FIL’s hernia had strangulated, which meant that the muscle had tightened around the organ and it was causing serious pain. If left unchecked, it could kill that section of the organ and develop gangrene.

My FIL had to go in for emergency surgery.

Kevin and I went up to the hospital around noon to keep his mom company. She was a little freaked out because my FIL in the hospital was just so unusual. And I think Kevin was a little worried, too. He kept telling me that I didn’t have to be there but there was no way I was going to leave him to handle this by himself, so I went.

Again, my sister and brother-in-law showed up and we all sat around for four hours while we waited for him to get out of surgery. We knew it was a pretty standard procedure but there’s always a risk with surgery so we were a little on edge.

Especially my MIL.

They finally wheeled him out about 4:00 and as we were accompanying him to his room, my other sister-in-law showed up and together, we all squeezed into the elevator with him. (Which was awkward).

My FIL woke up in the elevator and started babbling nonsense (he was still pretty drugged out) and he looked liked a ghost – he was very pale.

I’ve mentioned I haven’t had a lot of experience being around sick people so even though I wasn’t freaked out by his appearance, I was still pretty surprised.

My FIL woke up and the first person he saw was Kevin. I think that meant a lot to Kevin. After about a minute of sheer babble, he finally said a sentence that we could all understand.

He groaned and said, “Ugh, I could sleep for a week.”

We knew then, he was going to be okay.

My MIL worked on getting him settled and since there were so many of us, we took turns going in to see him. (Well, I didn’t go in, I felt a little funny intruding).

The boys didn’t go with us. Dude was feeling under the weather yesterday and I didn’t think it was a good idea to have him around the hospital, so they stayed home. I plan on taking them up tomorrow to see him.

That whole experience was sort of an eye opener for me. I’m also the sort of person who never goes to the doctor and if you ever hear about me being in the hospital, it’s serious. I think it left an impression on me because my FIL’s condition was bad – but it needn’t have been. His regular doctor told him there was nothing to do, and yet, his hernia was the size of a grapefruit. Why hadn’t his doctor suggested surgery before? (Or perhaps he did and my FIL just shrugged it off, which is likely).

It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t just bite the bullet and go to the doctor for my digestive problem (yes, it’s back and back with a vengeance). It seems stupid and childish to NOT go but I guess I’m just scared that they’re going to take one look at me and say, “Yep, you need surgery.”

Though I pride myself on being able to handle most anything, I think I prefer to waddle in my ignorance for just a little longer.

This is a post I’ve wanted to write for quite some time, but for a variety of reasons, I was not allowed to write. This issue has been weighing heavily on my mind and heart for a while and pretty much all I’ve been able to think about.

I’m not even sure how to begin other than to just jump in and say, we’re now part of that growing unemployment rate.

I’ll have to be impossibly vague about this news, of course, but suffice it to say, my husband’s company is on the verge of some big-time restructuring changes.

I’ve suspected we were heading down this path for quite some time, but the company made it public yesterday.

I’m angry, scared, determined, apprehensive, and bitter. And that bitterness is directed toward the government. Because this current administration? Is directly responsible for this turn of events.

And I will leave it at that. If I say anything more, it’ll end up being a political rant and I just don’t want to go down that road right now. It’s pointless. What’s done is done.

All we can do at this point in time is damage control.

But through the myriad of emotions tumbling through my confusion right now, I’m especially humbled. It’s so easy to take life for granted, to always assume that one’s job will be there. That there will always be a steady trickle of money coming in.

And then suddenly, it’s all gone. A force, outside our control, has ripped that security from our hands. That’s so incredibly frustrating.

My heart goes out to all of my husband’s constituents. This is not a good time to lose one’s job. It’s never a good time to lose one’s job. But with unemployment in the double digits and the holidays coming up, it’s just bad timing.

I’ve never been fired. I’ve never been in this situation where one day I have a job, and the next, I don’t. So I can’t fully appreciate what these poor people are thinking or going through right now. I can’t imagine what the conversations were about at the dinner table last night but I can tell you, we’ll be fine.

This will be an adjustment for us, but our hardship will be NOTHING like the struggle so many other people are being forced to endure right now.

But whatever happens, we’ll be fine.

I know this because first and foremost, I trust God. He has never failed us – EVER. He will help us help ourselves. We will move on. It’s scary, suddenly having that rug yanked out from under us, but we’ll survive largely because we have God watching our backs.

Secondly, our lives are a bit more flexible right now. I can, and most certainly will, get a job in the very near future. Dude is now eligible to get his driver’s license, so he can help out with Jazz’s extra-curricular activities, if needed. Dude is also old enough to get a job, but I’d prefer that be a last resort as I’d rather have the boy concentrate on his studies right now.

But still, it’s a viable option. And I like options.

And Kevin? Is choosing to look at this turn of events as a way of possibly doing something different with his life. It’s an opportunity to pursue other interests, to try new things. And I’m excited for him. I want him to be happy and content in whatever he decides to do. And I will support him 150%.

This change is both exciting and terrifying at the same time.

I’m not a big fan of change. I like things slow, steady and predictable. There’s control in that stability. When things change, the control shifts and we’re suddenly left flailing our arms on the precipice of a new adventure. And though I’ve never been one to back away from a new challenge, I’m not exactly a person who LOOKS for those challenges either.

We told the boys what was going on last night. They weren’t really freaked out, but then again, I’m not sure they really understand what’s happening. I mean, they KNOW what’s happening, it’s just, I don’t think they really understand how this will impact our family.

Financially, we’ll be okay. We don’t have a lot of debt and this has been a good excuse to talk to the boys about the importance of paying things off and not having a lot of debt to begin with. But we’ll still be tightening our belts and watching every penny – even more so than usual. But again, we’re choosing to focus on the positive and not the negative.

Of course I say this now, let’s see what happens six months from now.

So, like soooo many other Americans, we’re now in the same unemployed boat. Let’s hope the vessel can safely hold all of us until we hit land once again.

These past few days have kicked my ass.

I’m sorry to say the a-word, but they have.

Remember a few days back when I was bragging sharing that we, as in I, rarely get sick?

“Oh! Look at ME! I never get sick! I’m so special! La-dee-da! Whee! I must know some secret that keeps viruses from getting me down! I’m so AWESOME!!”

Yeah.

Karma bit me good. She not only bit me, she’s STILL hanging on.

The b*tch.

I caught whatever Dude had. And MAN … talk about a wicked head cold. Now I REALLY feel guilty for sending him to school that day because this virus? Sucks rocks.

My head was not only clogged, it was a solid mass of crusty snot.

(I do hope you aren’t eating when you read this).

I couldn’t breathe. And I went through about two bottles of nose spray in an attempt to get oxygen to my brain (okay, that was an exaggeration, it was only 1 … and a half-ish).

It started Friday night when we went to the football game. (Jazz played great, by the way. They performed their third set, and it was awesome, and we taped it, but again, you can’t really hear it because of the crowd, so we’ll try again some other time).

I just had that … feeling. You know the feeling, right? That icky, itchy feeling in the back of your throat when you know you’re coming down with something?

To top it off, monthly myrtle came to pay me a visit. AND, I’ve been having digestive issues again. So yeah, I felt like warm dung that evening and it got progressively worse over the weekend.

By Sunday, I was thisclose to being comatose.

I napped. I took it easy and by the time Sunday night rolled around, and I barked up enough phlegm to coat the bottom of a frying pan (I DO hope you’re not eating while reading this), I started feeling marginally better.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, I had a spurt of energy and I mopped the floors and cleaned bathrooms.

With bleach.

Which didn’t exactly HELP my trying to get over my sickness so that by the time the afternoon rolled around, I had trouble thinking straight, let alone trying to post anything on this blog.

I feel much better today. Still not 100%, but definitely human again. I still sound nasally and whiny (thanks for that, Kevin), but I think I might have dodged the sinus infection bullet – we’ll see what happens in the next few days. (I’d go into detail about why I think I might have a sinus infection, but the symptoms? Are not pretty and I’ve already ruined your appetite once [twice]).

So, I’m getting over a bad head cold.

I’ll live to see another day.

I haven’t gotten a lot done today.

I’ve been worried about the boys.

Dude has been sick these past few days. Which is so weird to begin with because we, as in the whole family, are rarely sick.

Thank you, God.

But when it happens, I’m never quite sure what to do. Especially when it comes to the boys.

I’m embarrassed to admit this to you, but I’m not a very good nurse. In fact, it’s safe to say, I’m a downright mean nursemaid. I simply do not have patience for sick people.

That sounds so terrible, I know, but it’s absolutely true.

And this includes me, too. Whenever I get sick, I want to be left alone. Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, just leave me be. (I did that when I was in labor with the boys. I simply drew my legs up to my chest, closed my eyes and concentrated on getting through the labor pains. I shut myself off from the world. I couldn’t tell you what was going on around me during that time period, I was so focused on my body. At least, until the epidurals kicked in 🙂 ).

I withdraw from the world and concentrate on healing myself. I don’t want any help. I don’t expect any help. And I’m (unreasonably) stubborn. Whenever I get sick, I refuse to allow it to keep me bed-ridden. I continue with life. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve gone grocery shopping with my back out and so wracked with pain, my lower body completely numb, that I’ve nearly passed out.

Or the number of times I’ve gone to work with migraines so bad my vision was literally blurred.

Or the time I worked in the cash office (I was by myself at the time) at Wal-Mart, grabbed a plastic bag, hid in a corner of the room and away from the cameras so I could throw up without being videotaped. I then double-bagged the contents, calmly walked to the restroom, looking and feeling like warm hell, before resuming my duties and finishing my shift.

(That’s why I laugh whenever I hear women use the “I’ve got cramps” [insert annoying whine here] as an excuse to get out of work. Really?! I’ve had them so bad they felt like labor pains, too. I still went to work. Suck it up, sister).

THAT is how stubborn I am when I get sick. Life goes on.

Don’t you DARE pity me, world.

So naturally, I expect my family to feel the same way. And naturally, I shouldn’t expect my family to feel that same way.

Dude and I are a lot alike. He has a lot of my personality traits and many of my physical traits. Small sinuses being one such trait. I’ve had sinus problems my entire life. Hence the crazy bad headaches I get from time-to-time. And when allergy season rolls around (it’s September for Dude, he can’t handle the ragweed), his sinuses start giving him all sorts of problems. Whenever I walk into his room to wake him up in the mornings for school and see about a hundred wads of used tissues littering his bedroom floor, I mentally brace myself.

The sinus battle has begun.

His sinuses simply close like an angry fist. He can’t breathe, he can’t sleep and he is extremely grumpy.

Poor kid.

But I made him go to school yesterday and today anyway.

Because I’m mean, remember? (I did take his temperature – no fever. If he had had a fever, I wouldn’t have made him go. I’m not ruthless).

He looked like trampled dog poo when I picked him up from school yesterday. And he went straight to bed when we got home. I left to take Jazz to get his haircut and he was awake when I got back, which surprised me, I fully expected him to sleep until dinner.

He had some soup and acted like he felt a little better.

But he still wanted to stay home from school today.

I said no.

Because I’m mean.

When Dude asked me WHY I wouldn’t allow him to stay home from school?

“Because you can’t stay home when you’re feeling like crap. Because if this were your job, instead of school, you’d be expected to go to work anyway. Because life doesn’t stop simply because you can’t breathe.”

Wait, that didn’t come out right. But you know what I mean.

Or perhaps you don’t.

I feel like an ogre making him go to school all stuffed up. And that’s the extent of his illness right now; I’ve questioned him endlessly on his symptoms. He’s not nauseous. He doesn’t have a fever. He’s not coughing. He doesn’t have a headache. He simply can’t breathe.

So, the kid uses nose spray, takes an Aleve and goes to school. Because if everyone stayed home because they didn’t feel 100%, then nothing would get done.

I’ve worked with too many people who have used the lamest excuses to get out of work. Which inevitably left more work for people like me, who showed up to work everyday and did my part. I don’t want my boys to become one of those people who use every sniffle as an excuse to stay home and avoid their duties. I’m trying to teach them a life lesson here.

But at the same time, I feel like an ogre.

I mentioned that part, right?

Sometimes, it SUCKS to be mom, you know? I want to baby my kids, but what am I teaching them by doing so? I mean, seriously, if the kid had a fever or was puking his guts out, then of course, I’d keep him home. But to allow him to stay home because of a stuffy head?

Er, I just can’t do that.

I hope Dude feels better today, because the guilt is seriously going to kill me. And Dude, if you read this someday, I didn’t take ANY pleasure out of making you go to school. In fact, I felt nauseous myself after I dropped you off. I’m sorry. I hope some day, when you have children of your own, you understand why I did some of the things I did.

I’m also worried about Jazz. For those that don’t know, he got his hair whacked off yesterday.

Trust me when I say, this is a big deal. His long hair was part of his personality. It defined him, in some ways.

But he got it chopped off for band. It was his decision. I did not make him do it. He insisted he wanted to get it done so he wouldn’t have to worry about having to stuff his hair into his band hat during performances.

But he looks different. So, SO, different. (Better, in my opinion, and oh so much older, but I’m mom, I don’t know squat).

I’m worried that his peers, that his so-called “friends”, will make fun of him.

You know how kids can be.

UPDATED: I just picked the kids up from school and Dude is feeling better. Still not 100%, but definitely better than yesterday.

Jazz said that everyone liked his hair and no one made fun of him. YAY! I think he’s really going to be thankful he made this decision when they actually compete next month. I’m sure the band director will be a little stricter on their appearance.

At any rate, the kids are fine. They are home, safe and sound and I worried about them all day for nothing.

Such is the life of a mom. 🙂

Friday night was Jazz’s first official band performance.

We dropped Jazz off early so he could buy his gloves and prepare with the rest of the band.

Me, Kevin and Dude all arrived at the stadium at 6:35 (kickoff was at 7:00) and we nearly didn’t find a seat. The whole place was packed. We ended up sitting right next to where the band was scheduled to sit and coincidentally, we were on the same row as Jazz (who later saw us).

The game started off great. The visiting team got the first touchdown, but missed their field goal and then our school got their first touchdown.

Half-time rolled around and our kids proudly performed their songs. I can’t even describe to you what it felt like watching Jazz out there, being completely serious and focused on the configurations and the music. My heart swelled so much I believe I had a bit hanging out of my mouth.

What an attractive picture THAT makes.

Kevin took the below videos. I’d like to apologize in advance for the glaring lights, and the fact that you can’t really HEAR the band playing because the spirit teams were so loud and quite disrespectful, in my opinion.

In fact, I was quite annoyed with most of the crowd when the band played. I wanted to stand up and yell “SHUT UP!” but of course, I didn’t.

But if you listen carefully, you can hear them. The songs they played were just beautiful, but too soft, I think.

(Kevin zooms in on Jazz a few times. He looks so handsome in his uniform!)

(The video starts out on Jazz. Doesn’t he do a good job marching backwards??)

The kids didn’t learn the movements in the 3rd set in time to perform it, so they just stood in one place and played their third song. We should have a video of that after this next Friday night game.

After half-time, the kids took their seats in the bleachers. Periodically, the drum line would tap out a catchy little tune and the band members would stand up and shake their booties. It was quite fun.

Jazz wouldn’t get up and do that though. In fact, he didn’t take off his hat, gloves, or jacket the rest of the evening. He sat quite straight and formal the rest of the night.

The rest of the band, however, didn’t have any problem shedding all the clothing they could before leaving the bleachers to grab a slice of pizza and something to drink. Again, Jazz sat, in full uniform, and chatted with a good friend of his.

I was quite annoyed with the boy. I was worried that he was going to get overheated in his uniform. The temperature was in the mid-80’s that night and the kids were soaked in sweat.

(That’s my annoyed, exasperated, worried look, in case you’re wondering).

After the game was over, I asked Jazz why he wouldn’t take his gear off.

He had several reasons:

1. He didn’t want to have to rely on someone else to zip him back up in his jacket. (The zippers are in the back and they start at the top and zip down. Crazy!)
2. The gloves were a pain to put on and he didn’t want to put them back on later.
3. His hair is so long, that he had to use barrettes in order to make it stay under his hat and he was too embarrassed to take it off and be seen with barrettes in his hair.

And the hair thing? Has been a problem ever since.

We’ve tried head bands, we’ve a tried shower cap (I nearly peed my pants because THAT was hilarious and never really a serious option, but it was fun to try), and tucking his hair into a hair band, but nothing works. We want to offer him a solution that he can whip his hat off and just run his fingers through his hair and not worry about it anymore.

I suggested he get a shorter haircut. And I made the suggestion not really expecting him to take me up on it.

But to my surprise, he said, “Whatever it takes.”

*THUD*

So, I’m taking him to get his haircut today after school. (Dude needs a trim, too. But he’s feeling like crap right now due to allergies/head cold so I’ll have to wait until he feels better to take him in).

I’m thinking his hair might end up looking like this. It would remain longer on top (he really has to have it longer on top, he has so many cowlicks that his hair sticks straight up when it’s too short), but shorter on the sides and back. That way, he can jam his hat on without having to tuck in the sides and back and only have to worry about the top.

When I first showed him that picture, he was all for it. But he’s since thought about it and he just wants to have a couple of inches cut off (his hair IS pretty long), so, we’ll see how it turns out.

I will take pictures, of course. 🙂

Jazz also got into trouble because we didn’t hem his pants up high enough. Apparently, they need to rest on the tops of his shoes. We did not know that.

But hey, we’re band newbies, what do you expect.

So the evening went well, but we learned a lot in the process. Our goal is to make him as comfortable as possible this next performance so he can loosen up and actually enjoy himself.

Oh, Jazz finally started a Facebook account (*groan*, he succumbed to peer pressure because everyone in his band has a Facebook account), and he’s become a band cheerleader:

Don’t forget, fellow Band Members, we’ve a game tonight. Play loud and be proud that you’re part of the [insert band name here].

Posted before the performance and

Alright, everyone. Good job on the night of 9/11. I think it went pretty good, considering that it was our first performance. Post your opinions below.

Posted after the performance.

I can totally see him being a sectional leader – he’s VERY pro-band. In fact, he LOVES it.

By the way, we lost the game. *sad face* But there were some exciting moments and I yelled so loudly that I was hoarse the entire weekend.

And so begins our football season.