For many years now, I’ve noticed that I can’t hear people very well. I don’t hear the doorbell, and I’m told I listen to the television way too loud. Well, I finally broke down and made myself a hearing appointment and took my husband with me.
I figured it could be either hearing loss from listening to music too loud as a teenager, or from my constant allergies that keep my ears clogged or me simply not paying close enough attention when people are talking to me. All of these were definitely possible.
In the end however, I do have 35% hearing loss in both ears. That’s a lot. And it’s genetic. It’s not from any damage that I’ve done, or allergies, or swimming. I could not have prevented it.
So, to resolve this issue, I can wear hearing aids. BUT, we were told our insurance doesn’t cover hearing aids. Ok, no biggie, how much are they? They start at $1,000 a pop and move up to the $5,000 range!!!
In the end, for now, I think I’ll continue to turn up the TV and say “huh” and “what did you say” as often as I need to.
At least now my family is aware and can be more sensitive to my needs. So don’t yell at me when I keep asking you to repeat yourself!!!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
The Burning Question
Oh my goodness, it’s been a year since I last blogged. Sad. But hey, I’m back.
I’m back, mainly because my husband started a blog yesterday to track our journey to "Burning Man" this year. Journeyofsmiles.blogspot.com
I’ll let you follow him to see what it’s about. But I will say I’m VERY nervous and excited. Nervous because it is so outside of my comfort zone but I’m very excited to go on an adventure, blind, with only trust in my husband and my instincts.
I’ll keep you posted……
And for your burning questions....Here's a video about Burning Man http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I4NF8JPXtnU
I’m back, mainly because my husband started a blog yesterday to track our journey to "Burning Man" this year. Journeyofsmiles.blogspot.com
I’ll let you follow him to see what it’s about. But I will say I’m VERY nervous and excited. Nervous because it is so outside of my comfort zone but I’m very excited to go on an adventure, blind, with only trust in my husband and my instincts.
I’ll keep you posted……
And for your burning questions....Here's a video about Burning Man http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I4NF8JPXtnU
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Friday, January 30, 2009
25 Random Things About Me
1. I was a straight ‘A’ GATE student and graduated high school an entire year early.
2. Thankfully, I graduated a year early because I got pregnant 3 months later. Book smart, sure. Street smart, not so much!
3. Being a mother since I was 18 is all I know. My every focus is devoted to my children.
4. I have never smoked a cigarette or even tried marijuana. And I didn’t say my first curse word until after I was a mother!
5. My husband is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and my children. The steady paycheck is not a bad thing either. Just kidding honey.
6. I gained a lot of weight after my divorce. Penniless single mom, working full time, going to college full time, and little league = Chicken Nuggets and Del Taco, unfortunately.
7. I’ve lost 30 pounds this year.
8. I love organizing, but I HATE laundry. I’m good with junk drawers, closets, labeling and storage. But ugh, the laundry must die!
9. My husband and I high-fived each other on our 5-year wedding anniversary because we both realized that we surpassed our previous marriages. You’d have to be divorced to understand that feat. LOL
10. I never tell a lie to anyone, not even my children. I have more hatred for lying than anything imaginable. Lies are at the top of my evil list. Did I tell you that I hate liars?!?!?
11. I have a crush on Edward Cullen, and my husband knows.
12. I like rock music and chick flicks.
13. My favorite wine is Moscato D’Asti
14. I have one sister and we are best friends.
15. I lost my last grandparent this past year.
16. I play the piano and am self taught.
17. I hate blow-drying my hair everyday. Such a waste of time.
18. If I could, I would wear flip-flops and jeans every single day.
19. I haven’t had a soda, even diet, in almost a year. I only drink water and an occasional iced tea.
20. I LOVE to cook and bake. Getting new kitchen gadgets and whatnot are exciting to me. My kitchen tools are my prized possessions. I record the Rachael Ray show everyday and usually try at least 3 new things each week from her menu.
21. I am a Jon & Kate plus 8 fanatic. Although, sometimes I want to poke Kate’s eyes out for being so bitchy to her helpful and loving husband.
22. My parents are still married to each other and so were both of my grandparents. My sister has been with her husband since she was 14. I am the black sheep of the family! Awww, poor Reyna. LOL
23. I talk to my mom everyday
24. I am embarrassed by my past and hope to get over that one day.
25. When I grow up, I want to be an oceanographer.
2. Thankfully, I graduated a year early because I got pregnant 3 months later. Book smart, sure. Street smart, not so much!
3. Being a mother since I was 18 is all I know. My every focus is devoted to my children.
4. I have never smoked a cigarette or even tried marijuana. And I didn’t say my first curse word until after I was a mother!
5. My husband is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and my children. The steady paycheck is not a bad thing either. Just kidding honey.
6. I gained a lot of weight after my divorce. Penniless single mom, working full time, going to college full time, and little league = Chicken Nuggets and Del Taco, unfortunately.
7. I’ve lost 30 pounds this year.
8. I love organizing, but I HATE laundry. I’m good with junk drawers, closets, labeling and storage. But ugh, the laundry must die!
9. My husband and I high-fived each other on our 5-year wedding anniversary because we both realized that we surpassed our previous marriages. You’d have to be divorced to understand that feat. LOL
10. I never tell a lie to anyone, not even my children. I have more hatred for lying than anything imaginable. Lies are at the top of my evil list. Did I tell you that I hate liars?!?!?
11. I have a crush on Edward Cullen, and my husband knows.
12. I like rock music and chick flicks.
13. My favorite wine is Moscato D’Asti
14. I have one sister and we are best friends.
15. I lost my last grandparent this past year.
16. I play the piano and am self taught.
17. I hate blow-drying my hair everyday. Such a waste of time.
18. If I could, I would wear flip-flops and jeans every single day.
19. I haven’t had a soda, even diet, in almost a year. I only drink water and an occasional iced tea.
20. I LOVE to cook and bake. Getting new kitchen gadgets and whatnot are exciting to me. My kitchen tools are my prized possessions. I record the Rachael Ray show everyday and usually try at least 3 new things each week from her menu.
21. I am a Jon & Kate plus 8 fanatic. Although, sometimes I want to poke Kate’s eyes out for being so bitchy to her helpful and loving husband.
22. My parents are still married to each other and so were both of my grandparents. My sister has been with her husband since she was 14. I am the black sheep of the family! Awww, poor Reyna. LOL
23. I talk to my mom everyday
24. I am embarrassed by my past and hope to get over that one day.
25. When I grow up, I want to be an oceanographer.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Are you afraid of the dark?
I am.
I don’t remember being afraid of the dark when I was young and I don’t remember any situation in particular that would have made me feel this way, but I do.
My husband and I both have lamps on our nightstands, matching of course. We also have a ceiling fan that contains light as well. The ceiling fan is remote controlled; however, the remote is located on my husband’s side of the bed. When you walk into our room and flip on the light switch, it activates the lamp on my husband’s side of the bed. Not, mine. Therefore, when I head to bed first, I have to walk to the wall, turn that light off and walk to the bed in the dark. However, it’s not really as simple as it sounds.
You see, I am terrified of what might by lying underneath my bed. Ok, I’ll give you a moment to stop laughing and collect yourself. Yes, I am afraid of the dark, and I am not afraid to admit it anymore. This is how entering my bed alone usually goes:
I do all the necessary get-ready-for-bed activities, brushing the teeth, showering etc. Then I’ll head downstairs, tell everyone goodnight, lock the front door, get a drink, whatever. Then the dreaded walk up the stairs. Now, if there are people actively playing upstairs, Jake on the computer, and whatnot, there are usually lights on in the hallway, so things go very smoothly on my walk up the stairs. However, the nights when the kids are all tucked in asleep, and Tom is downstairs watching TV, or in the garage tinkering, I head up the stairs alone, and the fright fest begins.
There is a light switch at the bottom of the staircase. I flip it on. I walk happily up the stairs in a brightly lit stairwell. I turn the corner to head up the second flight of stairs and eyeball the light switch at the top of the stairs that I will use to turn these lights off. I head directly for it, but right before I turn it off, I eyeball the route to my bedroom, memorizing it, so that as soon as I turn this stairwell light off, I can walk that path with my eyes closed if need be, and know full well, there is nothing in my way.
I flip the switch, head straight to my door, and immediately turn the light switch on in my room that operates Tom’s nightstand lamp. Phew! I made it.
Now comes the hard part. I, again, map out the path from the bedroom door to my bed. Making sure nothing is in my way, no shoes, no purse, etc. Keep in mind, my bedroom is 17x24 feet, therefore, the walk from my bedroom door to the bed is approximately 8 to 10 steps.
After taking about 4 to 5 steps, I can actually feel cold air coming from under my bed on my feet, a sensation that would make anyone feel eerie. What is the cold from I wonder, are there vampires under there? A man with a cold steal weapon, or the boogey man himself? When I feel this sensation, and that I am close enough to actually make it, I take a giant leap, with all my might from about 3 feet away and jump to the top off my bed, not letting my legs or feet dangle off at any point. I mean, I make my entire body meet the center of the bed in one giant move.
I immediately get under the covers, survey the room, and take deep breathes, well, because I just jumped really far and that was a lot of work and now I am out of breathe.
Now, I know the simple solution to this is to turn the light on at the wall, then walk to my side of the bed and turn my lamp on, however, as you can see, my critical thinking skills are lacking during this stage of my day! J But I do have some excuses.
I suffer from cataracts. I do have a vision problem and wear contacts; however, this is separate from the cataracts. My cataracts cause a vision problem for me that cannot be corrected with contacts or glasses. It’s like splattered paint on your eyeballs. Therefore, when light hits my eyes, even with the corrected vision of my contacts, I see shadows and some objects I cannot see at all. All of this is caused by glare. If light is behind me, I am perfectly fine. But if the light is in front of me, it’s literally blinding. Now, with this information, think about where the light is coming from when I walk, run, leap into my bed. It’s right in front of me, causing my vision to blur and all the of objects seem black and distorted.
Yep, that’s the best excuse I can come up with. I am visually impaired and therefore, the boogey man lives under my bed.
I also can’t sleep until my husband comes to bed, but that’s another blog entirely.
Although my excuse is pretty lame, I do have a simple solution that will work even when my critical thinking skills are on the fritz….. The Clapper!
I need the device that plugs into the wall, and when I am in bed, I can clap my hands, as my old lady turkey arms wave back and forth, and shout CLAP ON! CLAP OFF!
It feels good to get this off my chest. My husband has only recently discovered my fear.
Stop laughing!
I don’t remember being afraid of the dark when I was young and I don’t remember any situation in particular that would have made me feel this way, but I do.
My husband and I both have lamps on our nightstands, matching of course. We also have a ceiling fan that contains light as well. The ceiling fan is remote controlled; however, the remote is located on my husband’s side of the bed. When you walk into our room and flip on the light switch, it activates the lamp on my husband’s side of the bed. Not, mine. Therefore, when I head to bed first, I have to walk to the wall, turn that light off and walk to the bed in the dark. However, it’s not really as simple as it sounds.
You see, I am terrified of what might by lying underneath my bed. Ok, I’ll give you a moment to stop laughing and collect yourself. Yes, I am afraid of the dark, and I am not afraid to admit it anymore. This is how entering my bed alone usually goes:
I do all the necessary get-ready-for-bed activities, brushing the teeth, showering etc. Then I’ll head downstairs, tell everyone goodnight, lock the front door, get a drink, whatever. Then the dreaded walk up the stairs. Now, if there are people actively playing upstairs, Jake on the computer, and whatnot, there are usually lights on in the hallway, so things go very smoothly on my walk up the stairs. However, the nights when the kids are all tucked in asleep, and Tom is downstairs watching TV, or in the garage tinkering, I head up the stairs alone, and the fright fest begins.
There is a light switch at the bottom of the staircase. I flip it on. I walk happily up the stairs in a brightly lit stairwell. I turn the corner to head up the second flight of stairs and eyeball the light switch at the top of the stairs that I will use to turn these lights off. I head directly for it, but right before I turn it off, I eyeball the route to my bedroom, memorizing it, so that as soon as I turn this stairwell light off, I can walk that path with my eyes closed if need be, and know full well, there is nothing in my way.
I flip the switch, head straight to my door, and immediately turn the light switch on in my room that operates Tom’s nightstand lamp. Phew! I made it.
Now comes the hard part. I, again, map out the path from the bedroom door to my bed. Making sure nothing is in my way, no shoes, no purse, etc. Keep in mind, my bedroom is 17x24 feet, therefore, the walk from my bedroom door to the bed is approximately 8 to 10 steps.
After taking about 4 to 5 steps, I can actually feel cold air coming from under my bed on my feet, a sensation that would make anyone feel eerie. What is the cold from I wonder, are there vampires under there? A man with a cold steal weapon, or the boogey man himself? When I feel this sensation, and that I am close enough to actually make it, I take a giant leap, with all my might from about 3 feet away and jump to the top off my bed, not letting my legs or feet dangle off at any point. I mean, I make my entire body meet the center of the bed in one giant move.
I immediately get under the covers, survey the room, and take deep breathes, well, because I just jumped really far and that was a lot of work and now I am out of breathe.
Now, I know the simple solution to this is to turn the light on at the wall, then walk to my side of the bed and turn my lamp on, however, as you can see, my critical thinking skills are lacking during this stage of my day! J But I do have some excuses.
I suffer from cataracts. I do have a vision problem and wear contacts; however, this is separate from the cataracts. My cataracts cause a vision problem for me that cannot be corrected with contacts or glasses. It’s like splattered paint on your eyeballs. Therefore, when light hits my eyes, even with the corrected vision of my contacts, I see shadows and some objects I cannot see at all. All of this is caused by glare. If light is behind me, I am perfectly fine. But if the light is in front of me, it’s literally blinding. Now, with this information, think about where the light is coming from when I walk, run, leap into my bed. It’s right in front of me, causing my vision to blur and all the of objects seem black and distorted.
Yep, that’s the best excuse I can come up with. I am visually impaired and therefore, the boogey man lives under my bed.
I also can’t sleep until my husband comes to bed, but that’s another blog entirely.
Although my excuse is pretty lame, I do have a simple solution that will work even when my critical thinking skills are on the fritz….. The Clapper!
I need the device that plugs into the wall, and when I am in bed, I can clap my hands, as my old lady turkey arms wave back and forth, and shout CLAP ON! CLAP OFF!
It feels good to get this off my chest. My husband has only recently discovered my fear.
Stop laughing!
Monday, October 6, 2008
When your teenager gets hammered and decides to vomit inside your car...
Raising a teenager is painful to say the least. There's no more cute little voice, lovey dovey moments, or innocence. And you obviously can't spank or wave your finger at them while saying "no, no little Johnny, don't do that". You have to come up with more inventive ways of disciplining, communicating, and overall loving.
I strongly believe that affection is still very important, no matter what age. Every person on this earth wants to feel the touch of someone who loves them. Whether it be a soft pat on the back, holding hands, or fingers through the hair. Everyone loves it and needs it. But beyond the physical affection, things change when children get older, namely, they do just that, get older.
My son recently came home smelling like cigarette smoke. He's almost 17. But that's no excuse, it's just me listing his age. I smelled it on him in 1 second flat. The stupidity of a teenager shines through in these moments. Smokers are somehow oblivious to the fact that the rest of us can smell you from 6 miles away. Our noses turn into that of a brown bear's nose. We sense you, smoker people! To top off the fact that I hate it, hate it, hate it, my other son is deathly allergic to it. He's asthmatic, and one of his allergies is cigarette smoke, along with trees, grass, and animals with fur. So, to have a person in my home purposefully bring in something that might harm another one of us is just not tolerable in my book.
But being level headed, I took a deep breathe, and my husband and I decided to only give advice, and facts about smoking. Instead yelling and screaming "what the hell were you thinking?" We decided to be smart about it. The yelling and screaming comes easy to me, can you tell? LOL
We explained what smoking does to your body. We explained the seriousness of addiction and the affects of that, as well as the cost. I told him that if a girl had a choice, would she choose to kiss a guy with ashtray breathe, or strawberry bubblegum breathe? But we also deeply discussed Brody's health issues and that it cannot be tolerated for that reason alone. We left the room by saying "these are the facts about smoking, but it's up to you because we can't police you 24 hours a day". Since then, I have not smelled cigarette smoke. I have even heard him on the phone with someone telling them, "naw, I don't smoke anymore". YAY! The After School Special tactic worked. (Unless of course, he is better at hiding it, either way, I can't smell it.)
Two small, very small, days later, he went to the high school football game. Our backyard overlooks the football field. That night, he strolled thru the front door right on time. Smiling ear to ear, he came right at me and hugged me saying "Hi Mom". WHOA! I could smell something new that night.
I told him to head to his room and that I would be right there. After putting the other kids to bed, I headed for his room. He was already lying down on his bed, but was still smiling. I said "what are you smiling about?" "I was making out with a girl" he replied, smiling even bigger this time. I said "have you been drinking?" He replied immediately, without any hesitation "Yep!" I sat down on the floor beside his bed, keeping my composure and asked a load of questions. He happily answered every single one. At one point, I wanted to ask "are you sure it was vodka and not truth serum?" I had trouble at times not laughing at him. He was so giggly and it was almost cute. But I had to check myself and say STOP, this is terrible stuff. What are you doing thinking this is funny?!?!
So, I did the same thing as we did two nights earlier. I explained that he could get me in a lot of trouble for being underage and the trouble he could get himself into. Thank goodness we live within walking distance; otherwise, he could have been in a car! By the way, they were drinking in plain site at the school football game. Anyway, I did the after school special routine on him and hoped for the best. I hoped he would be sick out of his mind the next day, vomiting, crying "I'll never drink again".
Yeah, right! He was up the next morning at 7:00 a.m. asking me for eggs and bacon. He was perfectly fine. ARGH! He had no punishment out of it. We talked more and he remembered everything. I also brought up the fact that he spilled his guts to me the night before and to remember that, because if he ever does it again, he will tell me everything!
Two little weeks later, the homecoming dance! He's supposed to be home at 10:00. My strict rule, which he abides by very carefully. At 10:05, he was not home, so I called his cell. He answered and said "I'm almost there".
I decided to walk out front and stand in the driveway and wait for him. As I looked down the street, I heard giggling from behind me. I look the opposite direction from where he should be coming, and here comes a load of people, falling down in my yard as they try the simple task of walking. They're laughing, falling, tripping, and looking totally ridiculous. And alas, here he comes, bringing up the rear of this train of fools. He's trying that cool teenage boy swagger, but it ain't working. Even at 10:15 at night I can see his pearly whites, he's smiling so big. The swagger kept swaying from left to right, in a diagonal line. He walks right up to me and says "Hey mom" with this goofy "I'm wasted" voice.
He's white as chalk and sweating already from his head. I decided to grab my purse and take him to his father's house because I had all the other kids in the house still watching TV. I didn't want them to witness this catastrophe. I told him to stay put. I ran inside, grabbed my purse and off we went. I told him we were going to go for a drive.
Now, some background, I am not a drinker. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy myself some Mexican food and margaritas. I also enjoy wine, by the bottle at times. But I never get wasted and have never had to throw up and get sick over it and I am not 16 years old.
But I toss him in the car, and drive to his dad's. I use the excuse of the kids being up, but really, honestly, I just don't want to deal with it. It's someone else's turn as far as I am concerned. I wasn't in the mood.
We get about 3 minutes from the house and I hear this loud rumbling, which turns into groaning. Before I have a moment to react, I realize the vomit it coming, fiercely coming. I reach across for his door and yell "open the door, open the door!"
Oh man, what a site, my entire door, passenger side of the car covered in teenage stupidity! It didn't take but about 10 seconds for me to realize my terrible predicament.
Crying, I call his dad, telling him, possibly yelling, "I am bringing him to you, he just barfed in my car and you're taking care of this! He just BARFED in my car!!" He said "why are you yelling at me?" I said "because you are on the phone, that's why!"
I cried the entire way to his house. I called my husband and said "don't ask any questions, just get in your car and come pick me up at Jake's dad's house." "Uh, ok" he said.
When we got there, I walked him to the door; he barfed on his way up their stairs and all over his bed. I gave his dad the keys to my car and told him "make sure my car is spotless by tomorrow afternoon, I'll be back to get it". His dad does car detailing on the side, so he has all the needed equipment.
My husband shows up, gets out of his car and opens his trunk. He pulls out a gas can and walks up to me and says "You ran out of gas didn't you?" No, I didn't run out of gas, but that sure would have been easier to deal with. So I explained what happened and he hung his head really low and proceeded to his car without saying a word. LOL
The next day, I got a call at about 3:00 and was told my car was finished. I picked it up, along with the teenager, and it was spotless. He did a great job but I was deserving.
But what I am struggling with is this….how the heck do you punish this kid? I mean, ok, I know, restriction, take away the computer, take away the phone, banish him from the outside world and only allow fresh air when needed. But really, what's your advice? Instead of getting drunk, I was off getting pregnant. I never dealt with this side of things.
I also wonder if being 3rd generation square has anything to do with it. You see, my grandparents drank and smoked. My grandmother smoked so much, all of us hated it. All I heard my entire life was how terrible it smelled. So, in turn, I associated the smell of smoke with the term BAD. Same with drinking. It was drilled into me that it was bad.
For Jake however, we're not around anyone who does those things. So he hasn't had it drilled into him like it was for me. I guess you could say it almost is never brought up because it's never been an issue.
I know what you're thinking. "Oh, he's a teenager, most teenagers do this." But really, do they? And where else is this headed. Is there any end in site? I surely hope so, I need a drink.
Signed,
Desperate Mother, wishing I was a housewife
I strongly believe that affection is still very important, no matter what age. Every person on this earth wants to feel the touch of someone who loves them. Whether it be a soft pat on the back, holding hands, or fingers through the hair. Everyone loves it and needs it. But beyond the physical affection, things change when children get older, namely, they do just that, get older.
My son recently came home smelling like cigarette smoke. He's almost 17. But that's no excuse, it's just me listing his age. I smelled it on him in 1 second flat. The stupidity of a teenager shines through in these moments. Smokers are somehow oblivious to the fact that the rest of us can smell you from 6 miles away. Our noses turn into that of a brown bear's nose. We sense you, smoker people! To top off the fact that I hate it, hate it, hate it, my other son is deathly allergic to it. He's asthmatic, and one of his allergies is cigarette smoke, along with trees, grass, and animals with fur. So, to have a person in my home purposefully bring in something that might harm another one of us is just not tolerable in my book.
But being level headed, I took a deep breathe, and my husband and I decided to only give advice, and facts about smoking. Instead yelling and screaming "what the hell were you thinking?" We decided to be smart about it. The yelling and screaming comes easy to me, can you tell? LOL
We explained what smoking does to your body. We explained the seriousness of addiction and the affects of that, as well as the cost. I told him that if a girl had a choice, would she choose to kiss a guy with ashtray breathe, or strawberry bubblegum breathe? But we also deeply discussed Brody's health issues and that it cannot be tolerated for that reason alone. We left the room by saying "these are the facts about smoking, but it's up to you because we can't police you 24 hours a day". Since then, I have not smelled cigarette smoke. I have even heard him on the phone with someone telling them, "naw, I don't smoke anymore". YAY! The After School Special tactic worked. (Unless of course, he is better at hiding it, either way, I can't smell it.)
Two small, very small, days later, he went to the high school football game. Our backyard overlooks the football field. That night, he strolled thru the front door right on time. Smiling ear to ear, he came right at me and hugged me saying "Hi Mom". WHOA! I could smell something new that night.
I told him to head to his room and that I would be right there. After putting the other kids to bed, I headed for his room. He was already lying down on his bed, but was still smiling. I said "what are you smiling about?" "I was making out with a girl" he replied, smiling even bigger this time. I said "have you been drinking?" He replied immediately, without any hesitation "Yep!" I sat down on the floor beside his bed, keeping my composure and asked a load of questions. He happily answered every single one. At one point, I wanted to ask "are you sure it was vodka and not truth serum?" I had trouble at times not laughing at him. He was so giggly and it was almost cute. But I had to check myself and say STOP, this is terrible stuff. What are you doing thinking this is funny?!?!
So, I did the same thing as we did two nights earlier. I explained that he could get me in a lot of trouble for being underage and the trouble he could get himself into. Thank goodness we live within walking distance; otherwise, he could have been in a car! By the way, they were drinking in plain site at the school football game. Anyway, I did the after school special routine on him and hoped for the best. I hoped he would be sick out of his mind the next day, vomiting, crying "I'll never drink again".
Yeah, right! He was up the next morning at 7:00 a.m. asking me for eggs and bacon. He was perfectly fine. ARGH! He had no punishment out of it. We talked more and he remembered everything. I also brought up the fact that he spilled his guts to me the night before and to remember that, because if he ever does it again, he will tell me everything!
Two little weeks later, the homecoming dance! He's supposed to be home at 10:00. My strict rule, which he abides by very carefully. At 10:05, he was not home, so I called his cell. He answered and said "I'm almost there".
I decided to walk out front and stand in the driveway and wait for him. As I looked down the street, I heard giggling from behind me. I look the opposite direction from where he should be coming, and here comes a load of people, falling down in my yard as they try the simple task of walking. They're laughing, falling, tripping, and looking totally ridiculous. And alas, here he comes, bringing up the rear of this train of fools. He's trying that cool teenage boy swagger, but it ain't working. Even at 10:15 at night I can see his pearly whites, he's smiling so big. The swagger kept swaying from left to right, in a diagonal line. He walks right up to me and says "Hey mom" with this goofy "I'm wasted" voice.
He's white as chalk and sweating already from his head. I decided to grab my purse and take him to his father's house because I had all the other kids in the house still watching TV. I didn't want them to witness this catastrophe. I told him to stay put. I ran inside, grabbed my purse and off we went. I told him we were going to go for a drive.
Now, some background, I am not a drinker. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy myself some Mexican food and margaritas. I also enjoy wine, by the bottle at times. But I never get wasted and have never had to throw up and get sick over it and I am not 16 years old.
But I toss him in the car, and drive to his dad's. I use the excuse of the kids being up, but really, honestly, I just don't want to deal with it. It's someone else's turn as far as I am concerned. I wasn't in the mood.
We get about 3 minutes from the house and I hear this loud rumbling, which turns into groaning. Before I have a moment to react, I realize the vomit it coming, fiercely coming. I reach across for his door and yell "open the door, open the door!"
Oh man, what a site, my entire door, passenger side of the car covered in teenage stupidity! It didn't take but about 10 seconds for me to realize my terrible predicament.
Crying, I call his dad, telling him, possibly yelling, "I am bringing him to you, he just barfed in my car and you're taking care of this! He just BARFED in my car!!" He said "why are you yelling at me?" I said "because you are on the phone, that's why!"
I cried the entire way to his house. I called my husband and said "don't ask any questions, just get in your car and come pick me up at Jake's dad's house." "Uh, ok" he said.
When we got there, I walked him to the door; he barfed on his way up their stairs and all over his bed. I gave his dad the keys to my car and told him "make sure my car is spotless by tomorrow afternoon, I'll be back to get it". His dad does car detailing on the side, so he has all the needed equipment.
My husband shows up, gets out of his car and opens his trunk. He pulls out a gas can and walks up to me and says "You ran out of gas didn't you?" No, I didn't run out of gas, but that sure would have been easier to deal with. So I explained what happened and he hung his head really low and proceeded to his car without saying a word. LOL
The next day, I got a call at about 3:00 and was told my car was finished. I picked it up, along with the teenager, and it was spotless. He did a great job but I was deserving.
But what I am struggling with is this….how the heck do you punish this kid? I mean, ok, I know, restriction, take away the computer, take away the phone, banish him from the outside world and only allow fresh air when needed. But really, what's your advice? Instead of getting drunk, I was off getting pregnant. I never dealt with this side of things.
I also wonder if being 3rd generation square has anything to do with it. You see, my grandparents drank and smoked. My grandmother smoked so much, all of us hated it. All I heard my entire life was how terrible it smelled. So, in turn, I associated the smell of smoke with the term BAD. Same with drinking. It was drilled into me that it was bad.
For Jake however, we're not around anyone who does those things. So he hasn't had it drilled into him like it was for me. I guess you could say it almost is never brought up because it's never been an issue.
I know what you're thinking. "Oh, he's a teenager, most teenagers do this." But really, do they? And where else is this headed. Is there any end in site? I surely hope so, I need a drink.
Signed,
Desperate Mother, wishing I was a housewife
Educating America, one word at a time
Word for the day: Nuclear
I am on a soapbox today because I am trying to educate 4 children in my home. They actually sat and watched the debate with us last night, and during which, we have the leaders of America mispronouncing so many things. It’s scary. I’d like to know how many of their school teachers are mispronouncing words in the classroom, thus causing this great catastrophe in the world.
I’ll admit, I think Sarah Palin is gorgeous, smart as hell, and could be a great leader. I think the same of Joe Biden, except for the gorgeous part. However, other Americans are listening to them speak and learning the incorrect pronunciation of words. It’s just sad. And George Dubya is worse!!!
Did you know that because so many people, high level people, have pronounced the word “nuclear” incorrectly that they have actually added the incorrect pronunciation to dictionaries????
Check out this site:
http://en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Nucular
It is new-clear, NOT new-cu-lar
Can you believe that? Just because a few high profile people said it wrong, it now makes it right?????
Some other words that tick me off that are pronounced incorrectly:
Acrossed - hello people, it's just across, there's no ‘ed’ on the end.
Artic - No such thing peeps, it's the Arctic. Read it again if you didn't get it.
Aks - If you plan to chop down a tree, it's ax. If you want to get an answer, you must ASK a question. Aks??? Really?!?!?
Fisical - Ok, I work in the accounting field and hear this so much it drives me up the wall. The word physical, we all know well, I can assume. But there is this thing called fiscal. Like fiscal year, fiscal crisis etc. Are you fiscally sound? It is NOT fisically sound, or fisical year. It is fiscal. (Fi-skull)
Supposably - No such thing. It's supposedly! Period.
And lastly Volumptuous - Take out the M people. Our boobs might be lumpy, causing you to put the word lump in the middle, but that's NOT how the word is pronounced. It's voluptuous!
I am on a soapbox today because I am trying to educate 4 children in my home. They actually sat and watched the debate with us last night, and during which, we have the leaders of America mispronouncing so many things. It’s scary. I’d like to know how many of their school teachers are mispronouncing words in the classroom, thus causing this great catastrophe in the world.
I’ll admit, I think Sarah Palin is gorgeous, smart as hell, and could be a great leader. I think the same of Joe Biden, except for the gorgeous part. However, other Americans are listening to them speak and learning the incorrect pronunciation of words. It’s just sad. And George Dubya is worse!!!
Did you know that because so many people, high level people, have pronounced the word “nuclear” incorrectly that they have actually added the incorrect pronunciation to dictionaries????
Check out this site:
http://en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Nucular
It is new-clear, NOT new-cu-lar
Can you believe that? Just because a few high profile people said it wrong, it now makes it right?????
Some other words that tick me off that are pronounced incorrectly:
Acrossed - hello people, it's just across, there's no ‘ed’ on the end.
Artic - No such thing peeps, it's the Arctic. Read it again if you didn't get it.
Aks - If you plan to chop down a tree, it's ax. If you want to get an answer, you must ASK a question. Aks??? Really?!?!?
Fisical - Ok, I work in the accounting field and hear this so much it drives me up the wall. The word physical, we all know well, I can assume. But there is this thing called fiscal. Like fiscal year, fiscal crisis etc. Are you fiscally sound? It is NOT fisically sound, or fisical year. It is fiscal. (Fi-skull)
Supposably - No such thing. It's supposedly! Period.
And lastly Volumptuous - Take out the M people. Our boobs might be lumpy, causing you to put the word lump in the middle, but that's NOT how the word is pronounced. It's voluptuous!
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