Last week we went on vacation to Tennessee for my 37th birthday. We really had a wonderful time overall. What would a vacation be without a little drama? On my birthday, my son began doing this odd blinking thing. It kept up for hours. By afternoon, after going to the Chili Bingo party with my Aunt and Grandma's senior group at church, we took him to the ER. Of course, the doctor there was not exactly familiar with what he was doing, didn't take it seriously and told us it looks like he is blinking on purpose. I thought my husband would jump across that examination room and kick that doctors' ass! They got in touch via phone with Bam-Bam's neurologist in Detroit. He has a neurologist because he's had some seizures in the past. I described the symptoms for her and she said she wanted to see him as soon as we got back from vacation. She instructed that I should call for the first available appointment, which I did.
In the meantime, I took some video on my Blackberry that showed the eye blinking just in case it wasn't happening by the time we got to the doctor. That turned out to be a good move, since it did not stop but slow down considerably. Well, today was that appointment with the neurologist. The diagnosis - Chronic Motor Tic Disorder. We will have to watch for signs of Tourette's, which include Attention Deficit and Obsessive Compulsive behavior. It may or may not happen but we're hoping not. The only worry we really have is that he could be teased.
I know it sounds kind of scary but I am encouraged. It could be so much worse than this. Yes, Bam-Bam has had some medical issues over the years since he was born. Severe allergies, asthma, seizures and now this tic disorder. But guess what - those things are all really manageable. Of course, given the choice I would prefer to take these on myself and not have this happen to him. But I have to be hopeful. It does frustrate me that this has happened. It seems like there is always something coming up. I'm ready to be done. But I'm also ready to take this thing on. One thing is for sure, my child will never be limited by anything. Ever.
Today I found out that a co-worker of mine, a very young guy with young kids, has died. He had cancer, of course. I am devastated. I didn’t even know him that well, but I am devastated. I’m going to deviate from my “no-work-talk” policy for a sec because this isn’t about work, really. He was just an exceptional soul that I happened to meet when I was at work.
I didn’t really know him very well until this Spring. I knew he’d had some health setbacks in recent years but what was amazing about him is that he just seemed to always have such an incredible attitude. Nothing in his demeanor ever suggested that he was willing to give up. And that is what I remember most about him. He and I did a video shoot together this Spring in preparation for some online learning modules that I was preparing for our sales team. He had a great sense of humor and every time he screwed up he would laugh and use some of his self-deprecating humor to explain away his blunder. He enjoyed the irony of him talking about one of our “green” products while a garbage truck went by outside the window. He did not behave like a man that was dying, rather a man that was living. Enjoying. Maybe even enjoying every second. Of course, I don’t believe for a second that he didn’t believe he had hope to survive. Even though he had a crushing setback the previous January, he just kept going as if life would go on.
That was the last time I saw him. I heard only a couple of weeks later that he would be taking an indefinite leave of absence because his disease was ravaging him. And now, today, the news of his death has caused me great pause. I did not anticipate the impact that he’d had on me until I heard the news of his passing. I cried uncontrollably for a solid ten minutes. I asked God, the universe, whoever is out there – WHY? Why the hell would you take this guy? This person who had so much life left in him. So much promise. A young wife. Little kids. This guy was only a few years older than me. Why him?
When an old person dies it makes sense. It’s easy to accept as a natural transition to the other side. Maybe even an adventure. When a young person dies, it’s just wrong. I’m tired of seeing it. I cannot understand why a person like him has to go. And I don’t want to hear anyone telling me that “it was his time.” That is total bullshit. It’s not your time when you’re 43 years old.
The only thing I will say is that I learned something from him. Something really profound. I learned to capture and enjoy the moment. I learned that sometimes the little stuff just isn’t worth getting all wound up about. I learned to remember that laughter is indeed the best medicine. Work hard but smell the flowers and laugh at the garbage truck because it really is funny. And never, ever take a moment on this Earth for granted.
RIP, friend. Thank you for having an impact on my life. You probably never even knew it.
I know, I know….I am such a bad blogger. I have not blogged much at all in the last several months. What can I say, I haven’t been feelin’ it. And of course now that I am taking a break from taking a break, I have decided to touch on kind of a gross topic. Here’s the WARNING: If you don’t like potty talk…or if you don’t like to imagine that women actually go #2, PLEASE STOP READING RIGHT NOW!
Now that the disclaimer is out of the way, I would like to broach a serious topic. One that I know enters the minds of every single woman out there. Women pooping in public restrooms. There, I said it. If you are severely grossed out, I will warn you again – STOP READING! I am slightly fascinated by this topic, which is kind of a weird thing to admit. Here’s my deal – everyone poops. Everyone. You ladies that sit there squeezing your butt cheeks together in the ladies room, sitting quietly in the stall waiting for the entire bathroom to clear out – get over it! That is what the bathroom is for. Pooping and peeing. Duh. A woman that doesn’t poop is about as common as a modern day immaculate conception. It would be a miracle.
Men may not realize that there is this ladies bathroom culture that exists. Every man I have told seems utterly shocked. Let me put it to rest for you, guys. Women do not powder their noses. Ladies bathrooms are not scented like flowers or cinnamon (unless there is some nasty air freshener in the air that smells like cinnamon-y poo.) As far as I can tell, the following are the different female public bathroom situations one will regularly (pardon the pun) encounter:
1) The Battle of Wills – In other words, who wants it more? This occurs when there are two women in the bathroom who both clearly have to poop. No tinkling is happening. There could be coughing and nose blowing and each lady is trying to outlast the other. Whoever wants it bad enough wins. One will reluctantly flush the toilet, wash her hands, and leave…all without having done the deed. The other waits for the door to the bathroom to open and then pushes with all of her might with great relief and feeling victorious. Extremely common in any ladies bathroom (can also be coupled with any of the below.)
2) The Perfume Queen – There are some women that think if they bring their perfume sprayer in the restroom with them and spray down their stall prior to their “release” that it will somehow cover up the fact that they have dropped trou’. This is one of the worst offenders. I would rather smell your dookie than your nasty vanilla scented perfume any day. Seriously, we know what you’re doing.
3) The Cougher – This is the one who thinks she can cover a plop with a cough. We’re wise to you, honey. I get concerned about these girls. I worry that they’re going to pull a muscle. This also covers the nose-blower. Either way, we know what you’re doing.
4) The Old Lady – Old ladies are great because they just don’t care. They’ve lived long enough to understand that pooping is a natural human function. And they eat a lot of bran, so they are just gonna go in there and (God bless ‘em) they’re gonna let it all go and proudly plop, flatulate and walk out with their head held high.
5) The Hand Washer – This is the lady that enters the restroom to see if anyone is in there. Once she spots the telltale feet under the stall doors, she quickly pretends that she only came in to wash her hands. Then walks out crabby and unsatisfied. She’ll give it about a half hour and try again.
6) The Camel – This is the most fascinating breed of all. These are the ladies who exercise amazing sphincter control. They literally do not poop anyplace but their own home. I came across three of these unusual creatures a couple of months ago. Oddly enough, the conversation began at lunch. I know – chicks are disgusting. I will protect these subjects by avoiding using their names. These are the ones who think that anyone who chooses to drop a deuce in a public restroom is “distgusting.” I know this because they all told me themselves. They will instead, to their own discomfort, hold all of that putrid, foul waste inside of their bodies, sometimes for 48 hours or more. I’m sorry, who is the gross one?
I could go on and on, but the above are the most common. So, why did I choose to out these characteristics? Why would I choose to share this with you? I’m honestly not sure, however, it fascinates me to no end that women have such shame for such a normal and natural bodily function that they try to pretend, to the point of sometimes sickening themselves, that they could not possibly take a shit. That, my friends, is a tragedy.
Personally, I count myself in the most rare category of all – The Chick Who Just Does What Needs to Be Done. Hey, if I have to go, I’m gonna go. Go ahead and think I’m disgusting. But at least I’m not walking around with a stomach ache or smelling like a giant vanilla bean. I say all women need to be liberated. Fight the power – take a dump. Do yourself a favor. Avoid bowel obstruction and do your doody. Maybe if we all just own up to it, we’ll all be feeling better. It’s a new day. Instead of burning you bra – walk into that bathroom, head held high, newspaper under your arm, and show that bowl who’s boss. You GO, girl!
Well, I highly doubt that anyone even looks for me anymore but I honestly do not care. I have gained some perspective in these two months. I realized that I may have begun to get wrapped up in something in the bloggy world that is not about why I ever started to blog in the first place. I started to think about fame, readers, sponsorships, stuff....I got a little caught up.
So, I took a break and got a little perspective.
For the record, I am not knocking anyone that wants to blog so they can make money or have tons of followers. You go! If that is what you want out of your blog, have at it. I just can't keep up with all that. And no, I am not suggesting that those in the aforementioned category are people who have nothing better to do. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings by explaining mine.
For me, this is simple. It's one working mom and wife from the suburbs of the D just talking about stupid stuff. I don't want to promote any products. I don't want any gift cards. And I couldn't give a rats ass if I ever make it into the newspaper or any other media. I just want to tell my stupid stories, if for no one else....for me. And to record my thoughts.
So in the last two months, you have missed that Bam-Bam now has an obsession with Michael Jackson. He got a guitar for his birthday and screams "OWWWWWW" like MJ while he plays it. And no, he does not realize that MJ does not play guitar.
You also missed the time that he said to me, "Mom, I'm concentrating." Where does he come up with this stuff.
He turned 3 and had an "Under the Sea" themed birthday party. We played the Glee music on the iPod and he played in his pool in the backyard all day long.
He has his first crush on a teacher at pre-school...oh, and he started pre-school. He loves this teacher so much that he has an imaginary friend at home with the same name and he says she is his girlfriend. I have to give her a kiss every night before bed. I also have to tell her goodnight.
Our air conditioning went out yesterday. It is supposed to be 90 degrees and humid all weekend. We went to Burger King for dinner so we could sit in the air conditioning.
Yep, my life rules.
So read me, or don't....but don't give me your God damn gift cards. I don't want them.
Hey guys....been a while since my last post and for good reason. I've kind of fallen out of love with blogging. The whole blogging world. I still love all of my wonderful connections but I think I've been turned off by a few things. No biggee. I'm sure I'll be back.
It's Sunday and the day before heading back to work after 10 days off.
Vacation is over. There are so many things that I want to say about this past week. The first isn't even about vacation. In fact, it is about this blog. Just before vacation I was interviewed over the phone by a local newspaper. Kind of a high profile newspaper out here in Detroit. The topic was this blog. It was cool to be recognized and asked to talk about something that is really important to me. Very cool. I posted on Facebook about it. It was so exciting! I told my Grandma, my mom, my aunt....then the article came out over Easter weekend. And you know what, they cut me. At first I was disappointed. My feelings were just a little bit hurt. But then, a thought hit me. What the hell do I care if some newspaper thinks I am interesting enough to be included in their "mommy blogger" article? Is that why I'm doing this? No. Absolutely not. And perhaps that is why I just wasn't exciting enough to include in the article. I like having readers but I honestly don't care all that much how much traffic I get. I do this for me. No other reason. I like the connections I've made with people all over the world. I wouldn't trade it for the world. But ultimately I do this because I need an outlet. The reporter asked me about what kind of traffic I get on my site. I told her I really don't pay much attention. She asked me if I get involved in "mommy blogger" in-fighting. I told her that I thought it was all kind of silly. Truly I'm just a working mom that has all kinds of faults, all kinds of funny experiences with my sweet little boy, all kinds of little insignificant and silly things to talk about. But they all mean something to me.
So, I don't give a crap if you put me in your stupid article. Ok, maybe a little. Still, I will keep doing this because I like it. So there.
On to bigger and better things....our vacation. We headed down south to Tennessee the day before Easter to visit family. I don't know what I was expecting but I certainly did not expect this. We had a blast. It was a picture perfect vacation. I suppose that I had concerns because my mom lives there and we'd be spending time with her and my step-dad. Honestly, she didn't bother me too much. And she kept her distance for the most part, though she did spend time with us. The best part was connecting with my Aunt A. Aunt A. lived in New Jersey for most of my life and I never really saw her, never spent time with her at all. We spent our entire vacation at her home in Tennessee. She moved there when she retired.
What an interesting woman. Where do I begin? First, she made us feel welcome. One of the first things she told me was not to worry about Bam-Bam playing with anything in her house. She said, "our children are the most important thing, if he breaks something it's not the end of the world." Wait...is this woman actually related to my "children should be seen and not heard" mother? We were right at home at her house. She put me in charge of making iced tea and plugging in her coffee pot in the morning while she went on a walk with the dogs and my husband. She has a blind Basset Hound that she walks first in the morning. Then she goes across the street to get my Grandma's dog. Since we came and brought our dog with us she would make my husband go with her for the second walk....not much of a stretch since he enjoyed those walks with her down those twisty, windy Tennessee roads.
I know it sounds pretty silly to be so enthralled with this lady. To some it wouldn't be so different. But she gave me something that I never had. She made me wear a sweater when it was cold. She gave us home cooked meals. We hadn't had a home cooked meal in two years. She made me eggs just the way I liked them. She gave my husband medicine when he came down with a cold. She kept pulling things out of her cupboards and packing them for us to eat on our way home. She gave me two beautiful new coffee mugs that she had bought for herself but decided would be perfect for me.
She mothered me. In all of my life I have never, ever been mothered like that. And my husband, who lost his mother almost 3 years ago to cancer, needed a little mothering too. It was just exactly what the doctor ordered.
So the trip was great. We actually enjoyed the visits with my mom and step-dad. We hung out with my Uncle B. and Aunt C. My dog became BFF's with my grandma's dog. It was so cute. I caught up with my Grandma and recorded some great footage of her talking about the past.
But I will mostly cherish my time with Aunt A. She helped heal a little spot in my heart.