33tekfan’s Weblog

This is the Captain being hit by a pitch - AGAIN!  I really need to teach that kid to duck!  This time it was on the back part of his arm, near his shoulder.  It was actually warm to the touch after it happened.  So he took his base - and stole second again.  After being hit, his team rallied and ended up winning 14-12.  His coach gave him a game ball for “Taking one for the team”. 

I had a really nice Mother’s Day.  The Diva painted a plant pot for me and The Captain made me a very cool glass trivet. 

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you!

Any mother could perform the jobs of several air traffic controllers with ease.  ~Lisa Alther

Spring always seems to be the busiest time of year for us and this one is shaping up to be no different.

P-Man’s dad has been in the hospital - yes, again - since last Wednesday.  Good news though!  His team of doctors have diagnosed him!  It is a rare infection that is slow growing, and in return, hard to kill.  He is going to be on antibiotics for at least 6 months.  For three weeks after he comes home he will need them to be administered through a PICC line, then he can switch to the oral form of the medication.  If a family member felt confident enough to learn the procedure, he could stay at home and not have to travel to the hospital three times a day for the infusion.   My name came up as a candidate for the position…and since I was unopposed - I win!  For three weeks, I will head over to their house at 6:00AM, 2:00PM, and 10:00PM to administer his antibiotic.  It seems like a fairly easy process - wipe off each port with alcohol, flush the line, hook up the tubing and let him sit there for an hour and a half while the miracle drug flows into his body.  Then I reverse the process upon completion of the infusion.  When I look at it written down, I must admit that it is a little daunting.  But this will save him from having to be driven to the hospital every 8 hours. Or worse, have to be in a short term care unit for the three weeks.  He gets to be in his own home.  And really?  I’m glad I can help out. 

Then there’s all the kid stuff. 

My daughter had an appointment with the optometrist last week and besides her need for glasses, he saw a “freckle” in her eye.  He kept looking at it, then he would continue on with the exam…then he would look at the freckle again.  He even tried to help ME look at it through all his equipment.  Then he pulled out a reference book to try to find a picture.  Then he decided she needs to see a specialist for a second opinion.  I should clarify that he stressed that it is probably nothing…but to be sure, he’d like another opinion.  That has me a wee bit stressed out.  I try not to let things like this bother me until I have the facts straight up.  I’m generally pretty black and white; there’s not a lot of grey area with me.  But…HOLY CRAP…this is HER EYE.

My son has baseball nearly every day this week.  Last night he was very discouraged because he did not get a hit at all during practice.  Baseball is not shaping up to be his strongest sport but he tries so hard!  Tonight he got on base.  He walked (which I think is just fine - he knows when NOT to swing)…and he got nailed in the head with a pitch.  Yeah.  My heart immediately went into my throat and the mom next to me grabbed my arm.  He didn’t fall down (Really?  They are 9 and 10 years old so it’s not like a Beckett fastball was coming toward his head.  But still.)…and he headed down to first without so much as a cringe or an “ow!”.  He even stole second after that.  Needless to say, his confidence improved and he was a happy kid after tonight’s game.  Who knew getting hit in the head was the key to happiness?

Mix in the fact that I have a household to keep in order and a J-O-B to do, and it’s been crazy , crazy, crazy.  Thankfully the Postman has covered making dinner every night.  Oh…and?  Thursday is teacher appreciation day at one of the schools.  The PTO president asked if I could make a breakfast item or a dessert.  Since I am an overachiever a moron, I said I would do one of each.  Go me.

And that’s all there is that’s fit to print in my corner of the world today.

Chaos is a name for any order that produces confusion in our minds.  ~George Santayana

One hoodie, one fleece coat, a scarf, gloves, and a fleece blanket.

For baseball outside on the first day of May.

O, wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
~Percy Bysshe Shelley

Here’s what I have for you today.

Miley Cyrus poses for Vanity Fair.

4056 US deaths in Iraq.

Which one have you heard more about in the last 24 hours?

Never think that war, no matter how necessary, nor how justified, is not a crime.  ~Ernest Hemingway

Dear Dunkin’ Donuts,

One hour and 5 minutes for 3 bagel sandwiches is highly unreasonable.  I understand you run out of things sometimes - although on a Sunday morning?  Really?  You couldn’t predict you’d be busy on a Sunday morning at 10:00AM?  Ok…I’ll drive to the OTHER Dunkin’ Donuts in town.  Except, well even though they weren’t out of anything, they weren’t especially speedy.  Customer Service doesn’t seem to be a priority for you so as much as I love your product, I think you’ll find me at Tim Horton’s from now on.

Sincerely,

A disgruntled customer

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Dear Target,

I didn’t mean to shop lift.  Truly, I didn’t.  The fact that I’ve spent about $150 at your store in the last several days should indicate that I didn’t mean to walk out without paying for the $1.49 shoelaces.

I must have been holding them in the same hand as my keys, and when I needed both hands to help my son pick out a new baseball glove I put my keys - and the laces - in my pocket.  When we got home, I was mortified to find them when I reached into my pocket.

The thing is?  I live 40 minutes away from you.  At $3.57 a gallon, driving back to pay for the laces seems somewhat absurd.  But I believe in karma, so what I’m going to do is make an extra charitable donation this month.  Deal?  Good.  Thanks for understanding.

Sincerely,

A most apologetic customer (who loves Target WAY more than Wal-hell*)

*Stolen Borrowed from Morgan.

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Dear Postman,

You rock.  Thank you for putting together the Captain’s pitch back, and tightly strapping his new glove.  I spent 5 years doing all of that by myself (not always with great results!) and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it when you help my kids with things like that.  I know they appreciate it, too.

I love you more,

Me

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Dear Captain and Diva,

I missed you!  I am glad you had a nice time with your dad, but I am also glad you are home! 

Love you lots,

Mom

To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart.  ~Phyllis Theroux

Recently I had someone ask me if the woman she had seen me with was my “real mother”. The Postman beat me to the answer with “No, it’s JUST her mother.”

I cannot tell you how much that question pisses.me.off.

First off, my mother and I are NOT bff’s. Never were. Never will be. A lot happened in my childhood and adolescence that I wish never had. Without divulging too much information, I’ll just say that it probably wasn’t intentional and she couldn’t help some of it. It’s still painful even with that knowledge.

HOWEVER:

It was her who stood at the end of the driveway on my first day of school, and many thereafter, waving to me as I was whisked away on the bus. It was her who braided my hair every.single.day. until second grade when I got it cut short like Dorothy Hamill.

It was her who drove me to countless softball practices and games and became a Girl Scout Troop Leader.

It was her who held my hair back the first time I got drunk and sick when I got the flu.

She helped me buy a car when I was 16. She helped pay for college. She adores her grandchildren.

So while she is not my biological mother, she is my REAL mother. So stop asking such stupid questions, mmkay?

It’s not easy being a mother. If it were easy, fathers would do it. ~From the television show The Golden Girls

It has been unseasonably warm here the past couple of days. In fact, my daughter’s school lifted the “no shorts until after April vacation” ban. They are being allowed to wear shorts tomorrow. The Diva announced this to me immediately upon getting into the car this afternoon and quickly followed up with “I need to shave my legs. They are disgusting.”

The Diva is 12. I have discouraged her from shaving for as long as I could. I mean, let’s face it ladies. We all know what a pain it really is and the newness wears off quickly. I knew I wasn’t going to discourage her for one more summer though.

This evening it was time for the big lesson. I told The Postman we were stealing borrowing his shaving cream. I rarely use it (and steal borrow his when I need it) so I don’t have any.

Him: Why don’t you just show her how to use the electric razor?

Me: Because it doesn’t work as well. It doesn’t leave the skin as smooth.

Him: What does it matter? NO ONE is going to be touching her legs.

Me: How very “stepfather with a shotgun” of you.

Sometimes the smallest, silliest things remind me why I love that man so much.

The troubles of adolescence eventually all go away - it’s just like a really long, bad cold. ~Dawn Ruelas

* 5 points to whoever knows who said that!

Have you read about this yet? Have you seen all the pictures?

Admittedly, I have only seen one picture and the headline that accompanied it. It’s a picture of Rosie O’Donnell with her oldest son. She has a stern look on her face and she has a hold on her son - I believe she is holding on to his t-shirt. He is back to, so his face is not visible. The headline reads “Abusive Rosie bullies son, 12.”

Man oh man.

I am guessing these “journalists” are not parents. Because let me just tell you, as the mother of a 12 year old girl, if they are using these pictures as evidence of abuse, I know about 500 parents who “abuse” their children. Fortunately for them, they do not have paparazzi there to capture every.single.moment. of their lives.

My daughter makes me so angry sometimes that I need to leave the room or ask her to leave the room. She can be rude, mean, selfish, and nasty. She is 12. She has hormones raging through her body, and she has no idea that the world doesn’t revolve around her. I remind her, that’s one of my jobs as a parent. Does that make me a bully? No. I think it makes me a great mom. My children are learning respect, self control, and common courtesy. Sometimes I need to be stern to get their attention.

My daughter - in fits of self-absorption - has turned to walk away as I am in the middle of speaking to her. You better believe she does not get away with that. Have I ever grabbed her t-shirt as Rosie appears to be doing in that picture? I don’t know for sure, but I bet I have. I may have even grabbed her arm to stop her from walking away.

For a magazine to publish those pictures with that headline accompanying it is shameful, irresponsible, and more damaging to that boy than anything his parents could do. His friends are going to see and read that. His teachers, community members, and well…the entire free world are also going to see it. One of my children’s fears is that, if necessary, I will reprimand them in front of their friends, my friends, or our family. It is mortifying to them. Now that poor boy has his picture splashed on the front of a magazine so the entire world can see him being reprimanded by his mother.

Bullying? No. Not by his mother anyway - but by a big corporation that will sacrifice the well being of a child in exchange for a few bucks.

I never had a policy; I have just tried to do my very best each and every day. ~Abraham Lincoln

The Red Sox Ring ceremony is on right now.

I’m crying like a baby.

‘Nuff said.

We know we’re idiots, we know we’re cowboys, but we also know we’re world champions.

~Upon sweeping the Cardinals in the 2004 World Series
10/27/04
Johnny David Damon
Boston Red Sox
CF