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All posts for the month January, 2015

The Vax Debate

Published January 27, 2015 by sarcasmica

Opinions are like a$$holes. Everyone has one, and everyone thinks everyone else’s stinks. So here’s my safe place to vomit out my own two cents. Today’s topic: Vaccinations.

It makes me nutty when I see witch hunts going on for parents. Parents who, for the most part, are trying to do what’s right. Much like parenting, what is right for your family might not be right for your sister’s family, or your neighbors, or your enemy’s. Families all have their own operating systems.

In the giant empty hole that is offered up for the answer to “Why are so many kids on the spectrum?” and “Where are all these developmental/psychological delays coming from?!” some people fill it in with what they deem as common sense.

One very seemingly obvious blatant common sense link would be vaccinations. Nearly all children get them, (or they used to) and they get many in a short amount of time before their bodies are fully developed. Why wouldn’t we look at this as a possible theory?

And then all hell breaks loose. People just stop vaccinating. Celebrities start giving theories and opinions. Judgement begins. You’re an idiotic granola compound-dweller if you don’t vaccinate, and you’re a blinders-on minion of you do.

I am not blaming parents for their choices, personally. I’m blaming this terribly cynical, awfully manipulative, completely controlling big business pharmaceuticals.

How on earth is anyone supposed to get subjective information that can be trusted?! So many unethical, immoral business decisions have come to light that make it impossible to take anything at face value! I think the tobacco company implosion started all of that. As a member of the general public, I take what is being delivered through various media outlets and what am I to do with that?

Blatantly believe it all? Is it Fox news? Is it MSNBC? Is it SNL weekend update? It all depends, right?

The vaccination debate is completely out of hand, thank you Disneyland, and I think fingers are being pointed in the easiest direction, but not the correct one. The parents.

Yes the parents are ultimately responsible. Of course! But do you know how terrifying it is to be a first time parent just before the imminent arrival?! Do you know how much information you need to stuff your brain with ?! ALL of which are important and impactfull, btw.

I remember standing in Babies R Us, 8 months pregnant, if front of The Wall of Bottles. It was overwhelming. Bottles! I had no idea which was necessary, which was harmful, which was affordable, which was sustainable, BPA – what? blah blah blah.

Diapers. Which are affordable, which are responsible, which are understandable, which can my husband operate?

Cribs. Which are safe? Which are sustainable? Which can be used as a toddler bed?

Car seats. Holy shit, I STILL don’t fully understand all the rules for car seats

… and these are things that are responsible for the outside of our babies. When it comes to what we put inside our new bundles, there isn’t anything more terrifying. I STILL feel guilty for feeding my son Costco brand baby formula. He’s 8!

I remember the vaccination debate VIVIDLY when I was about to have my son. Do we or don’t we? Modified schedule or none at all? What does the overworked pediatrician think? What about the news lately? What if … what if ..

You go with your gut and there’s no going back. I chose to vaccinate my kids. You know what? We have found recently that my son has Dyspraxia and ADHD. Who’s to say it didn’t come from the vaccinations? Who’s to say that while it was a biological occurrence, if he hadn’t had the vaccination maybe it would have stayed dormant? Who the f- knows?!

What I DO know is that the people who are responsible for producing the mass created vaccinations are businesses. Companies. HUGE giant entities. Billion dollar companies that undoubtedly have politicians in their pockets from East coast to West coast. Do these people have your newborn baby’s best interests in mind? Absolutely not! They sell drugs. And what happens if your kid has an adverse reaction or develops some sort of syndrome? How do we treat that? MEDICINE! Guess who happens to make medicine? The same company that provided the shot when he was a week old. What a coincidence! Guess who funds the hospital your kid needs to be seen at ?

It’s a scary and horrifying carousel to consider, but I certainly don’t see parents operating that carousel. I see confused and anxious parents standing at the gate wondering whether or not it’s right to put their kids on the horse.

We have got to stop blaming the parents when ultimately, the health of our children is out of our hands. We can advocate, we can demand, we can petition and we can research, but unless we all have biochemical and neuroscience PHDs, we are ultimately completely dependent on the two factions that decide what is safe and healthy and what is required.

Until we have all of the unbiased and free-of-dollar facts, that’s when we can make an educated decision. We have got to stop pointing fingers and blaming parents who ultimately think and feel each choice they make is the right one for their child. I don’t know one parent that decided not to vaccinate their kid because they wanted them to get sick. I never hear parents saying, “Eh … no biggie. We just aren’t.” and I don’t hear parents saying, “YES! I’m so excited, stick that needle in my baby!!!”

We are all in this people-creating, people-raising business of parenting together. My kid will go to school with your kid, so we are in it together. My kid might be the boss of your kid someday (or vice versa) and I truly hope that compassion, understanding, humanitarianism was taught in their homes and not just blame and accusations.

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Sick Card

Published January 26, 2015 by sarcasmica

I finally called it quits on hoping this thing living in my chest would just magically get better and went to the Urgent Care on Sunday. It was serious enough to drag both the kids with me to a germ-infested urgent care and later ER for XRays.

My husband, of course, is traveling the world on a book tour.

Just kidding. Work travel. And you know what? I’ve never needed to call him back from a work trip, but this whole week is testing my limits of put-up-with-ness.

I saw a harried and very casual nurse practitioner at the Urgent Care. She was very confusing. She listened to my lungs, asked “And you’re not a smoker?” to which I assured her I was not and had never been. She closed up shop and said, “Well, your lungs sound clear so you should be good. Just use your inhaler for the breathlessness.”

My face must have shown my frustration and disbelief because she immediately said, “But you’ve already been seen twice, so we might as well just get an xray done.”

Gee. I’d hate to put you out.

My kids were being angels. Thank god for technology! I was bored out of my gourd because after handing the iPad and iPhone to each kid, I was out of entertainment for myself. I decided to just count the loogies.

By the time we sat through the ER rotation for radiology, got back to the room, finally got results, a total of about an hour and a half had gone by. Not too bad. The kids had their evil flip sides hidden behind the screens so I was counting blessings.

The NP came back in and told me “The radiologist did find an area with pneumonia, but it looks to be resolving itself. I personally think it was a soft diagnosis and you should wait before taking the ZPack. The antibiotics are aggressive and may cause upset stomach and diarrhea.”

Pardon me for thinking you’re absolutely full of shit, but the fact I’m spending 30 minutes every night coughing up a lung and again in the morning when i’m surrounded by offspring leads me to choose diarrhea over not being able to breath.

Dumbass.

And I was cool with all of this because there’s nothing better than proving you are not, in fact, paranoid crazy about feeling like you cannot breath without coughing. And coughing takes deep breaths to complete. Laundry doesn’t get done around here anyway, but this made lugging a stack of my 4 year old’s undies up the stairs completely impossible.

So I started the meds, I called my husband to let him know his wife is a trooper. He made zero attempt to call off any part of his trip. I was going to just carry this around like a bullshit card in my purse. The next time my husband wants to whine at me about feeling like he needs an entire day to lay in bed because his nose is running, I pull out the big fat PNEUMONIA take home paperwork and drop it at his feet, and turn and walk away.

But now it feels like I’m getting a cold on top of this other nonsense, and this is what will send me over the edge. If either of the children start sneezing or coughing, i’m moving us all to the nearest Holiday Inn and living on room service and laundry service until kingdom come.

When Mom Is Sick

Published January 23, 2015 by sarcasmica

Here are a few rules to go by in the unlikely chance your mom gets sick.

1. If she’s coughing up a lung and choking on phlegm, don’t ask for anything. She cannot assist you even if she wanted to … and chances are she doesn’t want to.

2. Meals will be on a strictly “You get what you get and you don’t pitch a fit” routine. Don’t like it? I guess you aren’t hungry enough.

3. If she’s rolling out of bed or off the couch to take your butt to or from school, you better make sure your backpack is on and your shoes are matching because your mom is not gonna care.

4. Do not ask for a playdate after you are picked up by your zombie, snotty, phlegmy, feverish, oily-faced monstrosity of a parent. The only playdates will be involving a remote control or a mouse. Sorry, kid.

5. You will see your mother take medicine. She WILL make a pinched, turning-inside-itself face. NO, you may not copy this when it’s your turn. Our medicine isn’t flavored with imitation grape or bubble gum. It resembles nothing short of donkey balls. .. or the bottom of Satan’s hoof. Our options are Robitussin or Nyquil. These flavors are used twofold- to torture POWs and also seal their cell walls. It’s that bad.

6. Keep all requests for anything from a particular room on a running list in your head. You have one chance, and one chance only to possibly have your mother get something/reach something/prepare something for you. Once she’s down, that’s it. The sun has set on your bowl of goldfish.

Disclaimer: In the unlikely event your mother does get ill, please be kind and helpful to her. There are few times we will play the “I brought you into this world” card, and this is definitely one of them, depending on the severity of vomiting/bodily fluids evacuating the body/exhaustion. This is not a drill, and the next time daddy is sick, remind him what a warrior mommy was when she had the Plague.

Dying

Published January 20, 2015 by sarcasmica

Im convinced im dying. I certainly hope i’m not because the thought of my husband being 100% responsible for the kids turns my hair even whiter.

Since becoming a mom, i’m terrified every cold I have is an opportunity to find my brain tumor. It cant just be a chest cold, it’s tuberculosis. My daughter has had a cough for the past forever, and now i’ve got it. I guess for me instead of getting croup, I get small Oscar the Grouch colored aliens that live in my lungs. Every morning they throw out a piece of themselves just to say hi. my kids freak when this happens. It is not natural to see Mom weakened, apparently.

2 nights ago as I was working on my remote control bicep curls I noticed a very creepy and unpleasant vibrating in my chest. When i tried to breath deeply, it hurt. I went to bed early as I was beginning to feel achy and headachy and chilled, but had no fever.

I woke up feeling much the same today. Rattly chest, gross green projectiles from my cough. I made an appt for the doc.

You’ll never guess what happened. After filling out all my symptoms, she listened to my chest and found nothing. Like taking your car to the mechanic and having it purr like a kitten. She sent me away with that look on her face like, “Thank you for taking my time from the zombies in the next room who are actually sick so you could come play patient with your kid in tow.”

I felt dumb. However, tonight here I am again with rattling goobers in my chest, a headache from all the coughing, and achey and chilled. This only comes on at night.

Naturally i’m convinced its cancer and my kids will wake up to find me unconscious and be absolutely incapable of dialing 911 from my cell phone.

These are just the light hearted musings of my SAHM mind. And of course this only happens when the husband is traveling.

Now I must go shiver my body to sleep while shallow breathing.

The Minecraft Mind

Published January 19, 2015 by sarcasmica

I sat through a Minecraft how-to video on youtube with my 8 year old this morning. My dyspraxic, ADHD kid watched this disorganized, choppy, rambling 15 min video made by another 8 or 9 year old and walked away from it able to follow all the directions and get what he needed without so much as a frame repeat to refresh what to do.

Successfully.

And yet, every single morning he fails to locate a clean shirt, socks or shoes. He cant answer whether or not his teeth were brushed or his fish was fed. Every. Morning.

Perhaps I should hire a kid to animate a Minecraft version of our morning routine..? If he sees Steve open a dresser to find proper pants, chances are greater he will then wear appropriate, hole-free pants.

A couple of observations while watching this video:

1. I found myself flopping around trying to get out of having to watch a tutorial on “How to make a spawner”

2. Any stumble or fidget by the speaker shortened my attention 10 fold

3. I didnt give a rat’s ass about what was happening and just wanted it to end

4. 8 year olds are far more advanced at computer-ing than my 38 year old ass

5. Now I know how my son feels during homework, class, and parent lectures

6. I want that 15 minutes of my life back

7. The one great big fat pro to this was it provided something I am terrible at. He heard a kid think through a process out loud. Something dyspraxia prohibits the brain from doing. The fancy term is ‘executive functioning’. Being able to set up the steps of an activity or process. Just the basic order you set up in your brain to get a task done. I am lousy at communicating this and saying my own process out loud. Some of his team has told me this will help him get into this habit of learning to prioritize and organize thoughts/movements/tasks, etc. Most people inherently do this in their head. You ‘just do it’, but my kid cannot do it. Now I find this gateway to a big road block for school and personal task planning and management, but its in youtube minecraft videos. Hello, parent hell.

Ice Queens & Tuberculosis

Published January 17, 2015 by sarcasmica

I took my daughter to a birthday party today. (Saturday)

*mic drop*

Just kidding *picks mic up elegantly*

It was a Princess party. Our first. All the kids had the option of arriving in their own princess dresses.

Oddly, I saw no boys from my daughter’s predominantly boy class there. I guess they don’t appreciate a nice bodice cut or puffy sleeves like their 4/5 yr old counterparts.

Anyway, my kid has been sick with her croup cough for almost a full week now. Admittedly its been far less traumatic than the November bout. She’s not been coughing through the night as of 2 nights ago but still does during the day.

So she’s been back to school just one day before this party today. We arrive, we make a tiara, we smack balloons around. I try to make polite conversation with strangers while my kid runs around their home. I notice the women wearing their very pink and brand new babies and try to steer my very own ‘Patient Zero’ (as her dad so affectionately calls her) clear of them.

Then the stars arrive! The actual real Anna and Elsa are at this party! Anna must have had an accident at some point because she’s missing a tooth, and due to the stress of the incident, Elsa has gained some weight. No one told her dress, though.

It appears they had a run in with a make up delivery truck between Arrendelle and Washington also because, Damn!

There were stories, there were “warm hugs” and pin the nose on Olaf. Elsa even did some face painting. I guess that was the other craft she honed locked away in her room for ten years.

My daughter had a great time. “Snow much fun” as “Mac Elsa” actually said.

Then the real coughing began. Parents were asking if my kid was ok. … to which i never know how to respond to. “No, but whats a little tuberculosis spread around, eh?” or “Yes. Turning red from coughing is just her party trick.” She likes to get herself to the brink of puking and then pull back. She’s a 4 year old thrill junkie.

Elsa must’ve got the memo from the other Princesses at Disneyland that my kid likes vomiting in the presence of royalty because she had her lip curled and one foot ready to bolt anytime my kid came near her for the rest of the night.

Truthfully she was not contagious, it’s just a terrible sounding lingering cough. She’s getting over croup, for godsakes!

I did feel bad, but what do i do, have her miss the party even though she wasnt sick? I feel like when parents ask, “Is she ok?!” They are really saying, “Let me get your keys for you, crazy parent, take your sick kid home!”

So we stayed just until we could both inhale some chocolate cake and left before the fork hit the plate.

I don’t think Anna minded, but that may have just been the meth talking.

Dear Stomach

Published January 14, 2015 by sarcasmica

Dear Stomach,

I’m so sorry I subjected you to McDonald’s tonight. I completely understand that I overstepped the boundaries. I cannot lessen my resistance over the last few months to the poisonous “meat” and supposed “potatoes” fried in yesteryear’s oil just to then turn around and pour that “food” down my gullet and expect you know what to do with it.

I took for granted the years and decades you dutifully processed this substance without question.

I will no longer surprise you with a Big Mac without warning or working up to such a feat. It was unfair and I totally deserve the rumbling trouble that is sure to come my way after my spontaneous lapse in judgement.

Next time i’ll pull over and gnaw on the van tire instead of driving through the Happy Meal factory.

Yours Truly,

Gullet Operator

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