temporary insanity

All posts tagged temporary insanity

Being Needed

Published December 22, 2017 by sarcasmica

My big kid is 11. Admittedly, he could be considered a momma’s boy. I’m ok with that. The oldest is the guinea pig, and they teach us the most about parenting…usually the parts you don’t like very much. The oldest has the biggest expectations in front of them, and also the most frustration and somehow at the same time satisfaction. Hey, i’ve managed to keep this kid on the planet thus far -and God willing for at least 98 more years, give or take.

My oldest child is my biggest teacher. Just when I think my head will explode from one more Minecraft story, lo and behold, it still sits atop my head. Just when I think I have no idea what the hell I am doing as a parent, I hear my son encourage his little sister do something only he could convince her she could do.

He’s growing up quickly, just like the brochure promises, and I find he needs me less and less. These are good milestones for sure, and I find relief in knowing he is independent.

Today, however, he needed some TLC and it was nice to comfort him.

The day started off nice enough. We all went to see the new Jumanji movie. It was pretty funny and everyone laughed throughout the film. Once we got back home, my son asked me to look at his foot. He had been complaining off and on the last week about his feet being cold and sometimes tingly.

I look today and he has one dark swollen toe, one toe turning blue, and blotches of red on other spots, but just one foot.

My husband has his podiatrist on speed dial since his own surgery last year, so we called and they were able to see him.

Turns out my kid has something called Raynaud’s Syndrome. The circulation in his feet is being restricted by his own body. His arteries and capillaries restrict the flow to the extremities- in his case, the toes, and it can become very serious.

Holy shit! What?

Turns out, according to two reliable medical websites, this can sometimes be a side effect of some adhd medications.


So we’ve spent the better part of the afternoon and evening warming feet by way of warm bath, fireplace roasting, heating pad toasting, and wool sock doubling up. When it came time for bed he complained of intense itching and couldn’t settle down to get to sleep. This is an already sensory heightened kid, and apparently the symptoms of Raynaud’s are exacerbated by stress.

So around and around we go

I rubbed his back for a bit to help distract from his mutinied feet. After the final goodnight he said,


“Yea buddy?”

“I’m glad you’re my mom.”

Ugh. Straight through the heart.

“I’m glad I get to be your mom, honey.”

And there it is. The rare golden Mom moment. I may have nearly caused my son to lose a toe by dragging him all over town in 37 degree weather over the span of two days. I may not have given much thought to a week’s worth of complaining about tingly feet and frozen toes, but here we are. He is still happy to be my kid, and I am more than happy to oblige.



Published October 12, 2012 by sarcasmica

Recently i have figured out I have a terrible condition. It is not contagious, but it is isolating. It’s hard to contain and even harder – it seems – to manage. There is a cure, but it takes time and luck. I have discovered since the recent move that i have diarrhea of the mouth.
I have met a few people here in Washington that i have run into again and again either at school pick up or over the back fence. (neighbors)

I was speaking to my neighbor today who wanted to know how the school year has been going.
Here’s how my condition plays out:
I think to myself, “Give the short answer. Do NOT go into detail. She doesnt KNOW you! If you want her to want to know you, say what you have to say and then SHUT. UP.”
She was sincere. Shes the PTA president, but im sure there’s a limit to what she wants to know. That’s certainly how i feel when i meet someone new. Don’t throw it all at me at once, lady!
I’m firmly zipping my lips after giving her the jist. I’m confident i can do this….
But then i open my mouth. I give the concise and intelligent answer… and then my lips continue moving. My tongue will not stop wagging. I go on and on about past schools and teachers. I can hear myself, and mentally i’m slapping my own forehead.

just. shut. up.

As an afterthought, i reach back behind my brain and force out a question about how her kids are managing.

Ok .. she’s still talking to me, i think. That was good. Just pray she doesn’t ask another question. Do NOT comment too much on her experience. Don’t be that annoying person you yourself hate talking to!

It seems the more i encounter these same people, if they have the generosity of speaking to me more and more, i get it all worked out. Once i’ve purged the necessaries that have most recently been stressing me out, i tend to calm the spastic dialogue a little better.

Unfortunately, for the ones i see less frequently, i’m afraid i’m just the over-sharer who they try to limit the eye contact with. Another lady i met through my neighbor i ran into at pick up the other day. Unfortunately for her, it was the end of a long long day of doctors appointments and diaper rashes and standard daily headaches…. but compounded together, i was at a breaking point. That’s when the dreaded question is asked. “Hi! How are you?!”

And it begins all over again.

I can see the horror in her eyes as i over share my daughter’s diaper rash story.

She doesn’t need to know my husband is out of town … but if i pepper my diarrhea with something relate able, maybe she can draw an accurate conclusion that i’m desperate for conversation and friendship.

Great. Now i wreak of desperation .. and dirty diapers and rash cream.

I’m hoping my condition runs it’s course and i’m cured soon. I fear it will cause me to begin an unending cycle ending in ultimate isolation for this cabin fevered mom.

Mommy Roofie

Published September 6, 2012 by sarcasmica

So i’m minding my own business at the grocery store when it happens. All by myself, i feel the need to go down the baby aisle in case there’s something i might need.

My kid is 2. There’s nothing in a baby aisle i need from the grocery store… except maybe an overpriced sippy cup the pediatrician will tell me she’s too big for when we go for her well check next week. I always have an urge to buy an ice pack. I know full well neither child will allow one near their body when they are actually injured. The piercing scream of frigid cold and just wanting to hold the pack flashes in my brain each time and i just walk away. As i near the end of the aisle, I am bombarded by what i now refer to as Mommy Roofies. I inhaled baby powder, and it assaulted my brain into giving me the fleeting thought of “awwwww, babies. another baby would be ..”  MENTAL SLAP

Thank god the next aisle is all cleaning products because the next scent of bleach and cleaner erased all insane, comical thoughts of any more DNA running around the house in the form of a human being from my obviously injured brain.

I am done. No more kids!!

But damned if that overpowering scent of clean baby butts a’la baby powder didn’t temporarily disable my quasi-functional intelligent mind. quasi.

It doesn’t help that my youngest, my second, my angel, is turning 2 in 5 days. Somehow i allowed my husband to talk me into a birthday party the weekend before her actual birthday, and not after.

I have to deal with her turning two TWICE.

Only a husband would see zero problemo with that scenario.

I would say it might be an issue if i didn’t have a nearly full half bottle of vodka in the freezer right now. Whether or not that bottle will make it to Saturday i have no idea.

So a word to you moms who think you are done; avoid the baby aisle and ESPECIALLY the full power baby powder. At the very least, only venture down if you know you can make it to the bleach in less than 30 seconds. That’s the amount of time it takes for the thought to travel to your ovaries. Once that thought takes hold down there, there’s no turning back. Just ask my daughter.

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