Merry Lazy Christmas!

The best part about Christmas nowadays is knowing that it is essentially done by 1 o’clock in the afternoon. Take for instance right now: I’m actually just sitting here typing this blog and it is 3 o’clock. Both my husband and my father are taking a nap, and my son is blissfully watching Mickey Mouse Christmas cartoons on TV. As for myself, I am sitting here doing the thing I love most during Christmas break: Enjoying a good book, snacking on whatever I want to, and alternating between coffee or a cocktail (sometimes a cocktail with a coffee in it).

Ten years ago, I spent the majority of Christmas Day traveling. But now, there’s no place like home to use the grand cliché. My son gets up at the crack of dawn, or more accurately, before dawn, and I make him lie down until at least the sun comes up.

Our tradition consists of getting up and putting on family pajamas, then watching him gloss over his clothes and rip through his gifts to play with the most wanted toy for an hour before giving into the urge to play with boxes. We then open our couple gifts, followed by a leisurely breakfast, which is more accurately a brunch since we start so late. Then my husband goes out to the grill and smokes a pork loin roast, after which he goes to take a nap, warning me not to touch the roast until a very lax dinner time, or at least not 20 minutes. Dinner is anytime, which can be anywhere from 2 to 7, then we veg out in front of the TV. Then I call it a day.

Granted, I get invited to family dinners and also get the opportunity to house hop. YetI generally remain noncommittal so that I can say, “Sorry. Can’t make it out. See you sometime this week.” We both know I have no intention of coming, but a little white lie at Christmas never hurts.

Wheelchairs Are F***ing Heavy!

By the end of the year, I’m pretty sure I’ll have some nice guns, or Popeye arms. Have I finally gotten back into my hourly arm exercises at work? I wish. My workout comes from lifting a wheelchair.

I know that there are lighter wheelchairs out there. My aunt used to have a light travel one. Yet none of my father’s wheelchairs are fortunate enough to be light. His current one doesn’t even have leg lifts that stay on. On the one occasion leg lifts were on the chair, 1 fell off and damn near crushed my toes.

For those who don’t know, for the past 3 years, my dad has been in a nursing home almost as much as he’s been here at home with me. Recently, I've been taking my dad out to his doctors' appointments then a meal afterward. Do you realize what this means? On 6 separate occasions, I have to heft a wheelchair in and out my trunk.

This is exercise in and of itself, especially since there is an art to it. First, the trunk has tone relatively free of debris. Since my trunk operates as a catch all (currently it has a few textbooks, some sodas for my dad, a wayward wheelchair cushion and my dad's gloves from March), this requires pre-prep (shoving things out of the way or tossing them in the back seat).

Then there's the folding of the chair and figuring out how not mash any fingers in the process. After that, there is the 3-foot lift and maneuver, where I have place the large wheels in first, then do some crazy twisting to be able to close the trunk. This lifting and maneuvering means that proper attire has to be worn dresses and skirts are not recommended.

The exercise goes in reverse for the removal, with the added twist of seeing how much weight to bear down to flatten the chair. Dad usually needs a little assistance out of the car too, so I squally offer him arm like we’re about to start a waltz.

I get about 3 of these reps for each set. Add to this the aerobic workout I get from pushing Dad around. Thanks to our excursion at the VA, I managed to log almost 4,000 steps! To me, those steps should count as double with the resistance. Never let anyone tell that as people older, they get lighter, even if they lost weight.

I guarantee you tomorrow I’ll wake up feeling like I wrestled a walrus and wondering why I feel that way. But if it gives me a bit of a workout, it's okay since my ultimate goal is to stay off meds and out of a wheelchair.

The School Kid

Today, I have to take some time to just express my mommyhood.

My son officially started kindergarten today.

I’m leaving that sentence alone like that just so it can sink in.

The question you’re inevitably asking me is if I cried this morning. And though my eyes did get a tad watery, no, I did not shed any waterworks. I wasn’t even super anxious, not even when A said to me that he didn’t want me to leave. Once he was seated in his classroom, I was ready to go, much to the chagrin of my husband. But I’d been standing in corral of k-3rd graders and their parents for 20 minutes and in a crowded hallway for another 5. I’m not super fond of large swarms, and I was feeling antsy. Plus, I had to get to work.

But I have to say about this whole school thing, this is where true parenthood will be put to the test. Not only do I have to make sure he gets up, takes a proper shower, brushes his teeth thoroughly, AND has a cleaned pressed uniform, I also have to make sure he has breakfast before he leaves the house. I will admit, I have been spoiled. At each of the four places he has been prior to school (a friend’s daycare center, a babysitter/grandma figure, and two childcare centers), I could just drop him off in the mornings and he was fed for free there. Sure, two of the places had uniform requirements, but their uniforms were no big deal since, it was just a matter of basic uniform pants and a basic polo shirt. I could scoop up the pants for less than $10 apiece and the shirts for $4 or $5. And again, as long as I dropped him off by 8:30 at the childcare centers, he was fed breakfast, lunch and a snack free of charge (or at least included in the weekly fee). I was even semi-prepared for the school systems here in Maryland since each year, I had a supply list which generally included things like crayons, boxes of tissues, wipes. As he got older, the lists got longer, so I wasn’t too shocked at what I had to buy for this year, only at the quantity.

The middle of the summer this year, I decided to start picking up items from his school list and was done relatively early. Of course, it required printing out said list. As I said, I was used to the idea of having to supply crayons, tissues, Clorox wipes, sanitizer and even paper (this time composition notebooks and construction paper). But here’s where things get a little weird for me: four glue sticks! 2 24-packs of pencils! Dry erase markers! The one that most astounded me was the pencils. Why 2 packs of 24? In my mind, I can see the teachers providing my kid with 2 pencils and then giving the rest to the school office to sell back to kids (paranoid I know, but 48 pencils?). I know they’re meant to last a school year, but really?

The other thing that threw a curve ball was the specificity of the uniform. Sure, the kids can wear any khaki colored pants, and they can wear any type of shoe, but the shirts?! They are custom embroidered by one particular uniform shop. The short sleeved shirts are $23 and the long sleeved ones are $25. And there’s a $10 tie. And the option of a vest and a sweater. So 3 of each type shirt plus a tie, and you do the math.

The absolute upside? This is a public charter and is therefore tuition free! After 4 years and 2 months, I am not paying for all-day care, only before and after! While I still have to pay something every 2 weeks, I am seeing about a 25% reduction in tuition. Of course, I do have to make sure he gets breakfast and lunch every day, whether it’s homemade or paid for at school.

And this is where I say that school is the true test of parenthood. And while we didn’t exactly flunk today’s test, we did flub a bit and almost forgot to make sure he had lunch. We ended up paying for it in the cafeteria. Apparently this school goes by an online code system, where the parents can add money and the kid only has to punch in a pin number for their account. No more robbing kids for milk money I guess.

I am glad that I had the foresight to follow my girlfriend’s lead (who is the mom of my youngest godson, who also happens to attend the same school) and actually make sure that he ate before he left the house. Yet that puts a whole new set of burdens on us. Now we have to make sure we actually buy breakfast stuff and prep it on weekdays. Before, we (and I use “we” very loosely to mean mostly my husband) cooked breakfast on the weekends and days off (when we didn’t go out for it). This whole breakfast in the morning is going to shake up my entire world. I have to get up earlier, prepare a meal, and change his order of operations (he brushes his teeth right after the shower, then lotions and dresses) to put on underclothes, eat, brush teeth then finish dressing. Add to that the fact that some days, I will have to prepare lunch for him as well. Then there’s the evening routine as well. It’s a further commute, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays, he has soccer. This is going to require him changing into his practice clothes at some point. Yikes.

My worry? Okay, I have at least 2 besides the lifestyle change above. One, Ayden is the small fish in a BIG pond again. In his first 3 places he went, he was 1 of 7 or 8 tops. Then last year, I got a little panicked when I realized he was 1 of 17. His class this year has a total of 28 kids! My other worry of course is that Ayden is a talker. He always feels the need to express himself. While I don’t exactly want that stifled, I also don’t want it to create a problem for him. What’s weirdly comforting is that my mother-in-law tells me that her son (the one I married) was much the same way. She said that it got him onto the debate team.

I can only hope. But for now I can only pray.

**Sigh**-nuses

It is officially Hump Day, and I am just getting to the completion of this blog. This was technically Monday’s post, but as you will find out when you read, I blame all lack of productivity on sinus activity. I’m actually writing most of this from memory because somehow I failed to save a single word.

My DBBF (if you don’t know by now, that stands for Dearly Beloved Best Friend) and I will occasionally begin a phone conversation with this greeting: “Will you please come cut my nose off?” This is usually our not-so-subtle way of signaling that our sinuses are out of control. Yesterday, it was my turn to call, but my sinuses had me so off course that I barely got anything done.

Whenever my sinuses go completely off the rails, it’s because I’m either not drinking enough water, or because I’m catching a cold. In my younger days, colds would be of the 24-hour variety, easy to come, but easy to get rid of with a cup of my mom’s hot tea remedy.

But as my age increased, so did the complexity of the treatment. At first Theraflu worked, then NyQuil. Now it’s a combination of the tea, NyQuil, a sinus pill and a squirt of nasal spray. I generally try to avoid the nasal spray at almost all costs because it’s totally gross. After I spray it, I can feel it—ewww—oozing down my throat and I get the unfortunate taste as if I’ve just drank hair spray.

So until my face stops leaking (because with sinus problems comes runny nose AND watery eyes), I am at the mercy of NyQuil.

My biggest problem is that I’m allergic to dust. Laugh at the irony that I work in a library, where dust is a job hazard. So going to work inhibits my sinus healing, and has on a few occasions led to a full blown sinus infection where I had to get antibiotics plus other OTC remedies (last year it was Mucinex and Sudafed).

Tired now. My nose is draining, not just in the tissues I am blowing through, but causes fatigue. Charge any grammatical errors to them. **sigh**

And **sniff*

McDonalds: I am NOT Loving It

McDonalds is an American icon. It has brilliant marketing, capturing and branding children from the age of 18 months with a thrilling mix of red and yellow, which are coincidentally the first colors developing babies can discern (these are not made-up statistics; for more, read Juliet Shore’s Born to Buy).

McDonalds makes it easy for its employees to ring up orders because it tells them meals with icons on the cash register. The cashiers don't have to figure out change because the register tells them how much money to give back and dispenses the coin change for them. The company has even ensured cup pouring where all employees have to do is put the appropriate size cup in and push the matching button! They don't even have to hold the button down; the machine measures the size. So you'd think that most human error would be eliminated.

Not.

To be fair, I am addressing one particular McDonalds located on 8901 Stuart Lane in Clinton, Maryland. This McDonalds is THE worst I have ever been to. Why do I keep frequenting them? Pure location. My dad’s nursing home is there and it’s the closest one to my son’s practice field. So I get held over a barrel when the kid wants something, and when my dad needs an early breakfast on the way to an appointment.

Scenario 1 with kid: I go through the drive-thru for a quick stop on the way to soccer practice. I order a simple Happy Meal: plain cheeseburger with ketchup, fries, apples, and milk. Off we head to the soccer field. We get there and what do you think was wrong with the order? No, not the cheeseburger: these dorks fail to put in any milk! So I have to leave the soccer field return to the McDonalds, go inside (defeats the purpose of fast food AND drive-thru).

Scenario 2 with dad: Today, I had to take Dad downtown—early. Stopped through the drive-thru again. Paid attention to order on screen. Did clever thing and actually looked in the bag. All items accounted for. So I pick up Dad, give him his meal, drink my coffee and eat both hash browns. The steak, egg and cheese bagel would be great for later since I couldn't dig into it while I was driving into DC and trying to find the VA Medical Center.

Four hours later: I safely get Dad to the VA, stop him by Wendy's, drop him back to the home, then make my way back home. Now I’ll just let you into my head to hear—or rather read—my thoughts.

Ah, time to open the bagel. Hmm, it looks a little thin. And feels a little light.

Okay, end of the inside my mind tour because what you would hear—uh, read—would blister your ears. You might have guessed by now, but I’ll just tell you.

My STEAK, EGG and CHEESE bagel had everything but the STEAK, the EGG, and the CHEESE! They gave me a friggin’ toasted BAGEL! Who the hell does that? Therefore, if you have a choice, do NOT frequent this McDonalds. Wendy's, Chipotle and Arby's are across the street. There is also a Checkers and Popeyes on Woodyard Road on the other side of 5. If it's too early and you can sit down, IHOP is across the street too. Even one of the many carryouts in the vicinity would be better. Heck, get a breakfast sandwich from 7-11 or the Shell store's market. Rant over.