JuJuBee

Taking a Breather

Life has been hectic lately. Nothing new, but you know, hectic as in, "Doing Something Everyday Single Day of the Week and Having to Bundle Kids Into Coats and Hats and Mittens" hectic. Thinking back not too far, Friday was babysitting for friends and going to work, Saturday was work (LONG day) followed by a big girl's night out with Madeline to Elmo Saves Music at Sheas where we had front row seats (which meant that she couldn't see and stood on my lap bladder throughout the entire performance) but all in all a fun day. Pictures on Flickr. Sunday was lots of cleaning and then dinner at Mr. JuJu's parent's house. Monday was spent at the Buffalo Marriott Niagara in a meeting for work. Tuesday was groceries and haircuts for the kids and today is: NOTHING. Ahhhhh.

Except later when we need to take Julian out for new shoes since he ruined his jumping in mud puddles, which he KNEW BETTER THAN TO DO. But it's a trip to Target, so no big problem.

I have a week long paid vacation coming up (WOO!) on March 16th which I am trying to fill with doctor appointments, home organizing and a trip to visit my family for Easter. The last trip left me feeling like I never want to travel with these kids again. They were sick, crabby, didn't sleep and cried quite a bit in the car. Mostly the baby...but enough for my nerves to retaliate against me and make me miserable. I also got a kidney stone in the car on the way there, which didn't exactly help matters.

So anyway, any tips for traveling happy with the under 3 set? Julian does great aside from the occasional "are we there yet?" bullshit. He can watch DVDs and play Gameboy and be fine. Madeline does pretty well as long as she has copious amounts of food and drink, so mainly it is Andrew who cannot understand why he needs to be strapped down for close to 4 hours without being able to move.  Discuss.

Off to mop the floor. Some breather that was.

23 Backwards

So, I know your birthday was yesterday, and I know that I am a total jerkass for not acknowledging it here, but come on, really...did you expect me to? Ok then. With that said, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY LOVE!

I know you don't expect too many people to remember, or to send cards, or to call, but the truth is that you are important to so many people. If I remembered to send a card to everyone that I cared about on their birthday? Good god, we'd be knee deep in postal debt. You make the world a better place by being alive, as cliche as it sounds, and I don't know what we'd do without you. I DO know that I'd get those fluorescent bulbs out of our lamps faster than a jackrabbit on a date...and maybe the ice cube trays would always be filled...and we'd have 97% less shoes in the house, but really...we'd never manage alone. Who would make silly songs about our Big Fella, and who would blow our driveway? Who would kill the spiders and who would buy all of the books that I steal and read?

You are an awesome daddy, who gets the kids fed and cleaned up and put to bed way more often than I do, you've stepped up so I can get out and go to my new job, and you don't complain when I spend a third of my paycheck on trips to Tim Hortons on the way there. You miss happy hours with co-workers and countless free tickets to games so that I can feel like I am helping our family. You fill the gas tanks and the wiper fluid so I don't have to stand in the cold.

Ok, enough sappy crap. Happy Birthday. Maybe we'll get to that birthday wish one of these days :)

ok...the naked Ron Jeremy picture was scaring you away, I apologize. It's gonzo.

I'm Still JuJu McLuckyPants

I'm sitting here, alone, in my quiet (wow, it's quiet) house, listening to the siding pop and the wood creak and the windows rattle from the wind storm happening outside. The kiddos and the husband are off having a nice dinner with grandma and grandpa. I didn't go, because I once again am suffering from a kidney stone.

I can't even express how frustrated I am today. I'm not asking for advice, or sympathy. I'm not looking for a pity party, I'm past all of that. Today I am just mad. I want to know why this is happening to me, what I did to deserve it, how I can fix it, how I can move on with my life without wondering when the next one will hit. It's embarrassing to hear my husband on the phone, "Yeah...she's not feeling well. Kidney stone related I guess, or something, who knows."  I can tell that he is as sick of explaining it to others as I am sick of getting them.

It's my Sunday off. My counter has three consultants, so we rotate our Sundays. I treasure my Sundays off. I look forward to a whole day of relaxing and snuggling up with my family. Kidney stones tend to put a damper on the day, you know? I want my urologist to take me more seriously, call me with the results of my urine tests, tell me what to avoid. I want him to fix me. I want to be me again. I'm tired of being sick, tired of being angry all of the time, tired of being quick to lose my temper, tired of making sure I have my pills before I leave the house just in case, tired of being tired.

Most of all, I am sick of being felt sorry for. There are times when I get one, and don't even tell anyone so I can avoid the whole conversation. Every time I have had an ultrasound, CT or whatever, there has been a stone present, As far as I know mine range from 1mm to 5mm. A 5 is on the large side, and when I had a 5, they told me I could stay or go home and pass it, if it were bigger they'd have made me stay. I don't go back to the ER anymore because all they do (besides making you wait for 6 hours) is put you on a drip to hydrate you, give you some pain meds, and send you home. I can get the same treatment at home, minus the needle, and enjoy my own bed. The urologist basically made me feel like I was wasting his time. He said that I don't get the stones in clusters, and kind of made me feel like an asshole for complaining about a stone here and there while he was spending his day treating uterine cancer and prostate problems. I get about a stone a month. Sometimes more. They might be different stones, they might be the same stone moving around. I've never actually caught one to be sure they'd passed.

Ok, I'm even sick of writing about it now. I'd really like to get back to this site. I miss writing and interacting with you all on a regular basis. I just don't want to be here spewing all of this negativity, so maybe I'll start back out with some cute kid stories. The kids are great. Even though their mommy is dodging stone bullets left and right, they are doing so good...much of that has to do with Mr. JuJu stepping up and taking over when I just can't. He's my rock.

Maybe some happy thoughts soon, or at least some cute pictures:

A Typical Workday...

...OR...Where the Hell I've Been.

5:30-6:30 am: Andrew wakes up. Bring him into our room before he wakes his sister. Change his diaper and put him into the Pack-n-Play. Pray he'll go back to sleep for a few minutes. Usually he doesn't so we turn on Sprout and he watches cartoons for a bit.

7:00 am: Mr. JuJu is usually up and in the shower, Julian climbs into our bed.

7:15 am: Have had enough of Drew's whining and Julian's kicking. Get out of bed.

7:20 am: Madeline is up. Change her diaper.

7:30 am: Making breakfast, washing dishes, laying out clothes for Julian, finding backpack and shoes.

7:35 am: Showing Julian how to hang up his bath towel for the 13,713th time.

7:45 am: Change Andrew's poopy diaper.

7:55 am: Kiss goodbye for Mr. JuJu.

8:00 am: Getting all kids to the table for  breakfast.

8:10 am: Making Julian's lunch for school, helping him with his spelling homework.

8:15 am: Putting more waffles in the toaster for baby with bottomless pit of a stomach.

8:30 am: Get everyone down from table, gather dishes and wipe off table.

8:35 am: Help Julian get coat, gloves, boots, hat and backpack on.

8:40 am: Pull baby out of my room where he is calling someone from our bedside phone.

8:45 am: Kiss Julian good bye, stand at front window with the little ones and wave goodbye to the bus.

8:50 am: Put Calliou on for kids while I do the morning dishes and clean up the kitchen.

9:00 am: Make beds, gather laundry and put clothes in the washer.

9:20 am: Make coffee and put an english muffin in the toaster.

9:30 am: Break up a fight and finally SIT DOWN to have my breakfast and check email.

9:31 am: Someone poops, stop eating to change diaper. Wash hands.

9:35 am: Sit back down to cold coffee and food.

9:36 am: Reheat coffee.

9:37 am: Answer pleas and begging for "MORE WATER PLEEEAAASSEEEE, MOMMMMMYYYYY."

9:40 am: Finish breakfast and cup of coffee.

9:45 am: Transfer clothes from washer to dryer.

10:00 am: Time out for cuddling with my babies.

10:30 am: Answer pleas and begging for "NEED SNACKS PLEEEAAAASSSEEE, MOMMMMYYYY!"

10:40 am: Fold dry laundry, put another load into washer. Feed cat.

10:50 am: Make some calls for {insert any sorts of appointment making you like, but stick to the non-fun spa-type appointments like pediatrician check-ups and urology}.

11:00 am: Pull out some clean clothes and towels.

11:15 am: Bathtime for the kids.

11:45 am: Make lunch.

12:00 pm: Eat lunch...might even be lucky enough to sit and eat too!

12:30 pm: Baby gets a bottle and down for a nap.

12:40 pm: Madeline goes down for a nap.

12:45 pm: Clean up lunch dishes and kitchen.

1:00 pm: Back downstairs to do laundry.

1:20 pm: Sit down to read some blogs, IM with husband, have a snack and some more coffee.

1:30 pm: Think about posting something to my blog, realize noone wants to hear what I do all day.

1:45 pm: More laundry.

2:00 pm: Shower before the kids wake up if I am lucky.

2:30 pm: Get ready for work.

3:00 pm: Kids are up. Change diapers.

3:15 pm: Snacks.

3:30 pm: Julian comes home. We talk about his day, look at school papers, play with the kids and turn on some cartoons.

4:00 pm: Stare at pantry, stare into fridge. Decide on dinner....either start it or call for pizza.

4:15 pm: Get some more snuggles in before I have to leave.

4:30 pm: Fight with flat iron, hate hair.

4:45 pm: Find coat, purse, keys, gloves, scarf.

5:00 pm: Get kids to the table for dinner....if lucky, dinner is on the table when Mr. JuJu walks in the door at...

5:10 pm: Say hello to Mr. JuJu. Say goodbye to Mr.JuJu. Kiss kids and leave for work.

5:40 pm: Arrive at work.

5:45 pm: Work.

6:30 pm: Work

7:30 pm: Work

8:30 pm: Work

9:00 pm: Basically give up on work, have some coffee and bullshit with my co-workers. eat cookies, make fun of customers. Best part of my night.

9:45 pm: Leave work.

10:15 pm: Arrive at grocery store and shop for groceries.

10:40 pm: Come home! Kiss husband. Fall into chair.

11:00 pm: Asleep in chair.

My Last Baby Turned One, I Have no Words

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

I Mean, They Look Like Little Maggots Anyway, So Who Would Want to Eat Those?

Yo! We have new carpet in our livingroom and our bedroom! It's so pretty and new and clean and I want to just go and lay on it and maybe lick it even, but I won't. That'd be one step too far and I am not the one-step-too-far type. That'd be my husband. Maybe he'll lick it.

As for the mess? It sucks. I have little itty bitty pieces of carpet fibers all over the house. It's really awesome that I can't vacuum them up because the kids are napping and even more awesome that the baby thinks they are some sort of food, food that I spread all over the house just for him (HOW LUCKY!) and I have to either keep him off of the floor or hold him all day until I can get this mess cleaned up.

Trick or treating tonight, are you excited? I know I am. What are your kids going dressed up as? What about you? My costume has been on all day long, I am going as a zombie who had a kidney stone last night and had to take two pain pills for the pain to subside and now I am really looking HOTT with the no sleeping and the pain pill bloodshot eyes and swollen face. Also my kids are going as Sick, Sicker and Sickest.

Halloween at our house ROCKS.

Girls Are (Still) Complicated

Madeline is trying to put her big-girl underwear on over her jammies....

"Mads! Those are big girl underwear for big girls who go on the potty!"

"YES!"

"Do you want to wear those and go potty today?!"

"YES!"

"OK! You have to take your diaper off so we can-"

"Ohhhhh. No."

No Child Left Behind, Unless We Forget to Mention it

Ok, I KNOW. Two posts in one day, JuJuBee must be smoking some sort of something over there, blah blah yadda yadda. It's just that, something is bothering me. I'm here to see if this is something that would also bother you. I don't necessarily feel like I need to be justified in feeling bothered by this, but it's nice to have some sort of agreement from the webernet masses that I am indeed not crazy, or irrational...or even maybe just being a bitch. Not that I would consider the webernets as a voice of reason or sanity, but YOU, yes YOU are a nice normal person. So...

We've known for awhile now that our LittleJuJu has been having some speech problems. Nothing major. Your typical "R" issues and "F" being confused with "TH" sorts of issues. Not a problem, very common, blah blah. So the school's speech pathologist calls me last week to let me know that LittleJuJu's teacher had come to her expressing some concern about the "r" sound and asked if she could fit him into her schedule one day a week. Ok, cool. I'm glad he will be getting the help he needs. Not sure why I haven't heard from his actual teacher regarding this issue, but whatever. Of course I don't mind, go forth and fix the "R" problem! Hurray!

So then we get a letter (in the mail) from the school's principal explaining that LittleJuJu has been recommended for some extra help from the Academic Intervention Services (AIS)  and enclosed are three different  instances where he will be needing help, two seem to be speech and one math. There are three different levels of assistance available ranging from low-intensity to high-intensity. TWO of the THREE instances mentioned are calling for high intensity help.

Why the fuck are we just now hearing about this? There has been no communication from his teacher, be it in writing or orally that she has had any concerns that his work was less than acceptable. We thought he was pretty damn good at math. We have never seen a test or a worksheet proving otherwise. Hey, I'm not too proud to admit when my children need help. I'm glad that there is a service available to him and hopefully we can nip this in the bud before it gets worse, but why? Why did the teacher not talk to us about it? I feel extremely let down by the school district. We heard over and over about what a great school he was attending. We had a bad feeling about this teacher when we met her at open house last month, and this just...I don't know. I'm so upset about this lack of communication from her.

Am I overreacting? What would you do in this situation?

Girls Are Complicated

"Do you need a hug, Madeline?"

"No. Go away."

"I'd really like to give you a hug...I'll wait here for when you're ready, ok?"

"No. Go cry. Go in Mommy's room and cry. C'mere Kitty! I want to hug you!"

My Halloween Costume

I was reading over at All & Sundry and her post about not feeling particularly expert-like at any one thing really got me thinking. Especially since today will be the first day in over seven years that I will go back out into the work force. Ok, "work force" sounds a bit dramatic. Back out into the grown up world where I will be conversing with grown up-type people and not having to wipe any of their asses or cut up their food. It will be amazing.

I got my Make-up Doctor lab coats in the mail yesterday, and when I slid the coat over my T-shirt in front of Little-JuJu, he giggled and said, "Hey, you look like a doctor!" and for a split second I felt...kind of silly. Here I am, at age almost 30, and I have not really excelled at anything other than a better than average ability to apply make-up. I am putting this lab coat on, wondering what it might be like to put a real white coat on and go out into the world and make people better. Fix boo-boos and save lives. Is this lab coat some sort of mockery?

I try to be positive, I try to see the glass half full, typically I can talk myself out of feeling down. When I really, really look deep down , I see that this job I am taking isn't so much silly. I get teased some about the make-up thing, but the reality is: it makes you feel better. Looking good makes you feel good. If I wake up feeling down on myself, a shower and some make-up can usually do the trick. Even the fact that I will be able to help people improve their skin to the point where they don't even need the stupid make-up to feel better is a good thing. Maybe I can get used to the feeling that I would be fixing people's boo-boos from the outside, they will have to go elsewhere to fix the problems inside, but I might take some credit for a teeny tiny part of it.

Also, Mr. JuJu will be home making dinner, getting kids into jammies, doing homework, washing dishes and playing the bedtime game. So even if I'm not exactly bringing home the bacon, and even if I was, my hours are so few, that the bacon would be more like...turkey bacon, I can be the person who isn't just a mother for a few nights a week. That will do wonders for my soul. Maybe I am a doctor after all.