2004-05-21 - 1:26 p.m.
Well, I called around to �clinics� and realized FINALLY after ten years that I HAD been to the one elite** sliding-fee-scale thing that you can�t become a new patient at without waiting 6 to 8 weeks for your first appointment. Well, some genius receptionist looked up my birth date as opposed to my current name (I kept my ex�s after the divorce) and realized I had been there during my maiden name phase. TEN YEARS AGO. I could have saved SO MANY FRIGGING bills from the ER if I had known that I had indeed been a patient already at the clinic in town. Fuckity fuck.
So, I went (yesterday). I got my antibiotic. But not before I did some affirmations and chants that my trusty best friend had suggested, bless her magickal heart. After gushing the water and cranberry juice along with the chants and affirmations down my throat, I am proud to say that I was diagnosed with a �little bit� of a bladder infection. It made me feel like I had done some justice for my body to try to instill �goodwill� and plus, I took some garlic pills. Garlic pills are excellent in helping fight infection. So, I went this morning to get my blood work done for my thyroid so I don�t have to finagle anymore with expensive doctors whom I no longer have health insurance for. I can just get all my medical needs at one convenient sliding-scale-fee-clinic. Ta-da!
So, I started my nasty white horse pills.
I am over a third of the way through the Sequel to Atticus Finch. Kmmm. Peace Like a River. Shannon was right...it finally got good when they got to court and then Davy escaped. I like Swede�s poems too. But she IS an EXCEPTIONAL 9-year-old, seeming how I know these things cuz I have an 8-year-old. My 8-year-old cannot cook oatmeal and doesn�t take her older brother shopping. Mainly, cuz she doesn�t HAVE any OLDER brothers, per se. But, still. She wouldn�t take her younger brother either. The most fetching she does is to chase down the ice cream man, but then again, this is 2004, not 1962. Almost nothing is within �comfortable walking� distance to us. So, I guess I will go easy on her. She does chase Jimmy up the stairs when he tries to escape from me. So, that�s helpful.
By the way, the school year is coming to an end here in Lee County, Florida. But Jimmy has a few weeks of summer school, to maintain consistency in his little life with his speech therapy. Plus, my poor kids will be stuck at day care all summer long while I continue to work like most single mothers do. Stephanie had her last night of 2nd grade homework last night. She was upset due to the fact that her �reading percentage� had gone back down. I don�t entirely believe this, but I let her know that the reason I am so hard on her is cuz she�s so fucking smart (no, I didn�t say the F-word during THAT sentence to HER, however, I�m not denying it slips in OTHER sentences) and talented and I want her to finish every problem and get everything right cuz then she gets straight A�s, which she has right now. So, she had started crying about her reading percentage and I told her: �Don�t worry about it! You�re an excellent reader, I KNOW you�re an excellent reader and I don�t think you dropped points, I think you are misunderstanding your score. And besides, if you did, then it�s over with and you are still getting all A�s anyway.� To which, she finally calmed down and went to bed realizing finally that I am proud of her.
You see, most nights, I don�t look very proud of her. With my children on a day-to-day basis, it�s strictly business. I don�t have too much time for �quality moments� to spend with them. It�s unfortunate. I miss a lot. I catch a lot, too, though. But, every morning, I drag their little butts out the door, things half unfinished, refereeing their fights. They labor over the socks and shoes and sometimes their hair brushing right in the car. They are tired and half-asleep more than anything. We don�t come back home for nearly twelve or more hours later (work, school, daycare). Then, it�s dinnertime, TV time if they have finished their homework, homework time if they haven�t, bath time (if we aren�t killing each other by that time), and bed time. Things are very stressful these days. I�m waiting to see my gray hairs. Just waiting, and expecting. Plus, we can�t forget the she-bang of my Tuesday and Thursday night classes that I have thrown into the mix. The nighttime daycare feeds them then and helps them finish their homework and puts them to �bed� until I get there to pick them up.
So, you see, I have to be militant to keep them moving just in order to finish what the heck needs to be done. I do very small things. Like hug them sometimes, and I took them to the library the other night and let them pick out a few books each. I try to keep them healthy by cooking things that are good for them. Half the time they don�t even talk to me, or eat what I cook. They whine about everything. But I do the big things. I keep them in the same school for the whole school year (except that one year). I take them to the doctor or medicate them immediately upon notice of a sickness. I tell them I love them. I check their homework. I try to take them to almost all the parties that they get invited to throughout the school year. ETC. I do a lot of other worthy things but they are obvious and don�t need mentioning.
I�ve been drinking so much water that I feel like floating away. No, I could not come up with any better metaphors than that. Wait...simile? God, I need to read some grammar lessons again. I used to know all that stuff. I took an IQ test online and it scored as a 129, mainly, cuz I know HOW to answer their questions. And they have �terms� for your specialities...like they called me a �Word Warrior.� Kmmm. Yeah.
What else? Any other news? No, not really. Oh, besides my boyfriend who is addicted to thrills and other highs, has informed me that he has gotten a hold of Viagras from some illegal prescription donation I�m SURE. This may very well be the weekend his heart stops. Sighhhhhh. I swear, some people. He doesn�t agree that he should take only one and NOT drink alcohol with it. Foolish, foolish man.
