FlipSide:Starting April 2nd, 2001

A journal of the trials, tribulations, and triumphs in the life of a woman in the 21st century.

Last Updated : Sunday, May 06, 2001 09:53:53 PM -0500

Monday, April 30, 2001

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I am going to save time and go ahead and apologize in advance. I am sure I am going to say something stupid or offensive or just completely meander and lose some of you before the end of this post. Why am I so confident of this?
Because I am currently running on about 2 hours sleep. Seems my son takes after his mother a wee bit too much. He has nights where he doesn't sleep well. In fact, I would almost go as far as to call it insomnia, except he does sleep some. I developed these disruptive sleeping patterns at an early age as well, although I don't think I was doing it at the age of four. If I was, I not only owe my mother a huge apology, but nice gifts, plastic surgery, and hair coloring services for life, as I must have added at least 10 years of age to her looks and lots of grey hairs (and that would be before I was a teenage).

I was a little keyed up last night, after having gotten plenty of sleep over the weekend, I curled up and read my book for a while and shut off the light around 11:30. About midnight, in comes my son in his usual stealthy manner. (Rhiannon I could always here coming. Jack, however, you don't hear until he is right next to your ear, saying "Mama".) After cuddling him for a while, I took him back to his room and made it back to my bed around 1 am. At that point, I am doing my usual sleep count, you know, when you lay there and go "If I get to sleep right now, I will get 5 hours of sleep." I fall into an exhausted slumber (hey, potting plants in high winds takes a lot out of a person. Especially when dealing with 4 year old insomniacs).

He must have come back around 3 am. At this point, I woke up enough to swing him over me and nestle him between John and I. Big big mistake. Major miscalculation. Blunder of epic proportions. We have a king size bed, so explain to me how I end up with only about 2 feet of space, clinging to the side. And Jack was pushing. And I was in that half waking/half sleeping state where you are not really able to respond to any stimuli. Finally, after almost falling out of the bed one too many times, I picked up my small bed hog and hauled him off to his own bed. Again. And he again asks, "Mommy, can you snuggle me?" At this point I have no heart and no amount of cute looks and sweet little voices are going to cajole me. "No, Jack, it's very late and Mommy is very tired." "Okay", he says in his sweet little voice. I'll say one thing for the kid, he doesn't hold grudges, at least, not against his mommy. Or maybe I just won't hear about them until the psychiatrist's bills start coming in (or when he writes the book).

I crawled back into bed and looked at my clock and discovered just how late it was. The clock read 5:05 am. Oh My God. Our alarms start going off at 5:20. So I laid there and stared at the ceiling for 15 minutes until the alarms went off and started to slowly, oh so slowly start the process of getting up for work. On 2 hours sleep.

My day did not get any better at work. I spent the entire day trying to get the piece of crap faxing software to work as advertised. As in actually fax the damn document I had cued up. We have a 6 page fax going out to 287 companies. Yes, that's right, your arithmetic is very good, that is 1722 pages. Since the document is going to so many different companies, it is what is known as a print/merge document. Same text with various fields of data coming from, in this case, an Access database. Since it is so large, it takes from 15 - 30 minutes to merge before you can try to fax.

I finally called it quits about 3:30 and took the first bus home. Unfortunately it is swimming lessons night, so there was no rest for the weary. The tribe arrived home about a 1/2 an hour after I got there and we headed out to swimming lessons.

The kids and I did have one nice bonding moment at dinner tonight. Rhiannon was discussing noxious odors emanating from her father's head. Daddy patiently explained those came from the other end. No, Rhiannon stated emphatically, Daddy had a little rear deep in his head. I looked at her a minute and the three of us laughed. Rhiannon just called her daddy a butthead! I'm not sure John appreciated the bonding moment. But later in the meal I did something stupid in my sleep deprived state, and Daddy and Jack exchanged a "Mommy's lost it" look. Ahh, the joys of parent/child bonding.

Okay, it is way past the time I needed to hit the sack. I really hope I sounded half-way coherent. I am sure John will add his little snide comments if I wasn't. Night Night.

(ed- Snide? SNIDE! Right. Tonight at dinner she says "Jack, eat your bath then we can get you in the soup." Jack and I both looked at each other, then at her, and laughed. It's not kind to pick on the less coherent, but sometimes it's fun. Especially when a four-year-old gets the joke. -- jd. ;-)

Tuesday, May 1, 2001

Since I live in Minnesota, I feel, today, I owe the world an apology. I apologize that some of the people of this state had the questionable taste to elect an apparently bigoted and close-minded individual to our state Legislature. This esteemed individual has taken offense to the invitation issued to the Dalai Lama to address a joint meeting of the Minnesota Legislature. It seems that this gentleman objects to the fact that the Dalai Lama is not Christian and thus is offended to the depths of his Judeo-Christian soul that a nonchristian would be allowed within the hallowed halls of the Legislature. "As a Christian, I am offended that we would have the Dalai Lama come and speak," said Rep. Arlon Lindner, R-Corcoran, in an e-mail to colleagues. "They don't believe that there is one god," he said. "They don't believe Christ is God." He said they don't believe in God as creator of the world. "They believe in evolution and reincarnation," he said. "That is not Christian." He goes on to refer to Buddhism as a "cult". Gee, I guess someone had better go and deprogram the entire Asian continent then, Arlon.

(And all of this on Buddha's birthday, too. What a lousy present. Boy, would he be pissed. -- jd.)

Okay, first of all, this fellow is uninformed. Buddhism is one of the world's great religions. It predates Christianity by about 350 years. As I understand it, Buddhists do indeed believe in one God. Not to split hairs here, but Christians don't believe Christ is God, he is the son of God and part of the Holy Trinity. And when it comes to evolution, I think if he took a poll, a majority of Christians in this country would tell him that they believe in evolution. I don't seen how the theory of evolution is necessarily in conflict with my belief in God. In fact, I know of many Christians who also would not discount the possibility of reincarnation either. Then again, I would guess that I wouldn't qualify as a Christian in Representative Lindner's book anyway, as I am a Roman Catholic. And you know what, that is just fine with me. I really don't want to be part of a "club" that puts a winner of a Nobel Peace Prize, Hitler and Lenin in the same context. (On the news last night, he stated that we wouldn't have invited Lenin or Hitler to address the Legislature, so we shouldn't invite the Dalai Lama either.

Representative Lindner has elected to not attend the joint session at which the Dalai Lama is speaking. Somehow, I don't think he will be missed.

Okay, enough of that. In reading Dr. Keyboard's post today, I found the "Serial Killer Test" The good doctor scored a 15 as did my husband. Myself, I only scored a mere 11. However, it was a high enough score to place me in this category. "We're not going to label you borderline, but the Death Row staff would sleep better at night knowing the word "psychotherapy" is part of your vocabulary." So a redhead and borderline psychotic. You gotta wonder about me, don't you?

(I don't wonder, I know. And I fear. Constantly. -- jd.)

Wednesday, May 2, 2001

Another red letter day for Minnesota. Tonight the Twins are playing the Yankees at home. In case you don't follow baseball, the Twins are having the best start to a baseball season they have ever had. 38,000 fans attended the game tonight. Some of them should have stayed home. The fans in the left field stands were repeatedly throwing debris on the field at the left fielder, Chuck Knobloch, a former Twin. (Yeah, like none of them would have changed teams if the Yankees came knocking on their door, offering all that history and a big paycheck to boot.) The game announcer had to repeatedly remind the fans that their behavior could cause the Twins to have to forfeit the game. At one point, the Twins manager, Tom Kelly even walked Knobloch out to left fielded and attempted to reason with the fans. It did no good.

Speaking of trades, it appears my husband is entertaining offers for me. So far, he has been offered a server with dual drives worth about $10k new. Apparently the deal fell through when John made it clear that I was a package deal, as the children went with me. Negotiations are ongoing. . .

Well, the good for nothing, piece of crap fax software finally, today, did what it is supposed to do and actually faxed my document. After me devoting the better part of 3 days to it and Eva, my IT babe, devoting at least that much time to it. In fact, she told me she actually dreamed about it on Monday night (a nightmare, I'm guessing.) But she went to the U2 concert last night, so she was able to get it out of her mind last night.

Took Rhiannon to the doctor today. She has again been having frequent urination and some accidents, which was the first symptoms of her bladder infection about 6 weeks ago. When we saw the doctor, he was concerned that she had possibly another bladder infection less than 3 months later. After testing a urine sample (negative) he examined her and asked some probing questions. He suspects she may be constipated, causing the stomach pain. As for the urination issues, Rhiannon confessed she had pain and itching in her "potty" area, so he suspected vagititis (sounded an awful lot like a yeast infection to me). So he sent us off for an abdominal X-Ray and to get some Lotrimin and Cortizone cream for the vagititis. He is going to call me with the results from the X-Ray in a day or two. If constipation isn't the problem, then we will do more testing, but it sure sounds like it could be the problem. I hope this solves the problem.

Well, I am not feeling terribly inspired tonight and I am awfully tired. I took a nice hot relaxing bath and now I am heading to bed. Hopefully, my husband won't sell me before I wake up.

Thursday, May 3, 2001

Well, what do you know, Minnesota made it through the day without embarrassing itself in some way. No Jesse gaffes, no bigoted remarks about world religious leaders, and no trash thrown at people. Of course, I haven't seen the 10 o'clock news yet, so there is still time.

Charmed was especially good tonight. I just don't think we have seen the last of Cole, at least I hope not. I can't help it, I am a romantic, I always want to believe that love conquers all. (It certainly has for Marcia. She sound like a giddy newlywed in her post last night. And her an old married woman of 3 years. Of course, I have been married almost 11 years.)

Busy busy busy day at work. 38 faxes did not go through, so I had to look and see if we had email addresses for the 38 rejects. Then I had to alter the faxes so they could be emailed. Then, after all that, I had to print out and mail the remaining 6 that we had no good fax number and no email address for. I didn't go to lunch until after 2 pm. Then I thought I would be able to move on and do work for my boss for the remaining 2 and 1/2 hours left in my day. Nope. Surplus calls, emails, etc. took up another hour. In the end, I did manage to get some stuff done, but my desk still looks like a paper bomb went off and several items on my to do list look like they are never going to get off.

Speaking of getting off, Mat Lemmings was on a roll today. First he shares a story of an unbelievably dense assistant. Then, I am not sure exactly how he made the segue, but he ended mourning the loss of gratuitous sex in his life. Apparently Mr. Lemmings has not read his marriage contract closely. In the marriage contract, all sex is expressly forbidden except in cases where the wife expressly requests it, desires to share information with her husband that he may find unpleasant, she wishes to persuade her spouse to do something, or of the rightness of her position. Gratuitous sex is right out of the question. I believe John will be picking up a sympathy card for Mr. Lemmings.

Well, need to pick up the house before one of Rhiannon's little friends comes over at 8:00 am on Saturday morning. Then, at noon, I will be helping supervise eight 7 year old girls, along with various and sundry familial relations, in a swimming pool for an hour and a half, then feed them pizza. Then I go home with my children, plus one, until the last is picked up around 5. I plan to have at least a four pack of wine coolers chilling for Saturday evening. I hope to survive the experience. Pray for me.

Friday, May 4, 2001

Out of the mouths of babes. Poor John, his offspring were on a roll tonight. At his expense. We were are running around trying to do everything we normally would do on Friday evening and Saturday, as we will be tied up with the Brownie Swimming Party tomorrow and our young house guest. Anyway, we had to run to Target to pick up some study cord for John to make tomato cages. The kids were quizzing him as to what the cord was for. Jack suggested we use it to tie Daddy up. John's response was "I can never talk your mother into it." So Jack turns to me and says, "Mommy tie Daddy up." Not to be outdone, Rhiannon adds "And tickle him." Somehow, I don't think that is what John had in mind.

Then, apparently our dinner at Denny's (until May 13th kids eat free from 4-10pm, hey, I admit it, we're damn cheap) had a unexpected, not to mention, unpleasant outcome for the entire family. Although, only one person is, how shall I say it delicately, causing the problem. In the elevator to our apartment, Jack turned to his father and said "Daddy, I love you but you stink." I swear, there is a fog clinging about the man. A malevolent fog. I am afraid to sleep in the same room, for fear the fog will settle over the bed and choke me in my sleep. So, yes, you guessed it, John is sleeping on the deck tonight. Then again, I have alot of money invested in those plants out there, hmmm . . . the hall maybe?

Speaking of Jack, he is doing way better with teenage girls than his father ever did. (With his body functions, it's no wonder the man lacked for dates. Not to mention, he was an A/V geek. He had friend, equally geeky, claims he, that had no problems with women, he even played the clarinet, he states with disgust. Well, that's it, I said, he was letting his "feminine" side show. Girls love that, they think those guys are harmless. Besides, I have met this guy, and frankly, I don't think there is anything geeky about him. He's pretty hot, but then again, that was, gee, 12 years ago.)

Anyway, getting back to Jack and the teenage girls. First, he flirted, rather successfully, with the check out girl at Target. She let him load the bag. Then, he flirted with two 17 year old girls in the ladies room at Cub (the ladies room, sayth his father, smacking his forehead {of which there is more and more each day}, I never thought of hitting on girls in the ladies room. No dear, you would be arrested for hitting on girls in ladies rooms.) He got the one girl to pick him up so he could reach the soap (in her little midrift baring top, I swear, my four year old leered.) Then her friend came out and they both giggled and cooed over him. Jack preened. I swear, if he were a little older, he would have a date. You know, I am noticing a trend here, he is going for blondes. Sheesh. I tell you, my son comes to your door for your daughter in a few years, do yourself a favor and slam the door in his face. You will save yourself some grey hairs, to say the least. John plans to put Jack's bedroom on the corner of the house so he can just direct the angry fathers toward the correct window .

Sounds like Keri and Matt ran into some irresponsible parents yesterday. I can't understand how people can just leave a six year old alone and trust that someone is going to pick them up. Then, not come check when they are called and told their daughter is alone. I swear, a license should be required before people can have kids. When I think of all the people I know with fertility problems who would make wonderful parents and then the bozos out their that keep poppin' 'em out and not taking care of them . . . well, maybe that is God's plan. The infertile people will take care of the bozos' kids. It just seems like it would be much more direct if the bozos couldn't have kids and the good, but infertile, couples could. Oh well, no one ever said life was easy. If it were, I would be rich and beautiful and wouldn't have to work for a living. And I sure as hell wouldn't be living here. I would have a big ole house with a staff to see to my every whim. And believe me, I have whims.

Saturday, May 5, 2001

Well, we have survived the Brownie Swimming Party. Ashley, who we were taking over to the party, luckily didn't arrive until almost 10, so I was able to clear some of the crap off my counter tops, etc. Although she had already had breakfast, she was quite happy to have some of the peanut butter pancakes I made for breakfast. It is one of my kids favorites (but no so much for their dad). Would you believe I was actually the first one out of bed?! Well, if you don't count the fact that sometime in the wee hours of the morning, my son the insomniac made his way stealthily into my room. I must have just hauled him over me and put him in between us without really waking up.

Anyway, Ashley and the other scouts were pretty good. My kids, not so much. In fact, at one point I was trying to give one or the other of them away, or at least make a trade. Rhiannon has been full of teenage attitude today (and she is only 7, God help me when she hits full blow teenage angst.) First, she didn't want to put on her shoes and coat when we were getting ready to go. Then her brother couldn't find what he did with his shoes. Then he couldn't find what he did with his coat. Thanks to those little detours, we weren't able to make it to pick up ice or to Kinko's to make copies of the troop announcements. So, Daddy dropped up off and ran the errands.

While we were swimming, Rhiannon decided to pout because one of the other Brownies wasn't waiting her turn and was jumping all over her turn. So, she went off in a corner and pouted awhile. At first I tried to talk her out of it. After trying that for about 10 minutes, I finally told her that if she was going to continue pouting, she could get out of the pool and go to her father (who is like a cat and doesn't like water). Finally she came around and started playing again. Our pizza was delivered at about 20 to 2, we had a real short meeting and the girls ate. (Papa John's pizza made us a great deal, they called it the business deal. A large pizza with unlimited toppings was $7.50. We got 7.) And ate. And ate. Oh, then they drank soda. And more soda. And ate chips. And would you believe there is still soda and unopened chips left for the annual picnic in about 10 days. My good deed for the day was making sure 2 moms didn't have to cook supper. I sent leftover pizza home with them.

After a quick stop at Bachman's (really, it was quick. I didn't buy any plants. John will tell you, that has to be some sort of record, I only bought rocks and charcoal for the bottom of my pots.) Once back home, we put Fantasia 2000 on the DVD player to settle the kids down. It worked. Ashley slept and Rhiannon and Jack came close. Oh, I forgot to mention Rhiannon's really big tantrum at the pool. She was upset I had taken the biggest towel. (Gee, I wonder why I would do that?) She ran the length of the pool (a major no no) to get my towel and pitched a hissy fit when I gave her the smaller green towel. Has the child never looked at herself and at me and figured out I'm bigger?!

(Ed - It would be important to note here that "the smaller towel" is a towel big enough to cover Rhiannon from shoulders to knees, and go around her two and a half times, and is twice as thick and far newer than the "big towel" which is a 13-year-old Beach Towel that says "Partysaurus". Yes, mine, college, and no, you can't ask -- jd.)

Would you believe my children are hungry? They ate peanut butter pancakes, they ate pizza, they ate chips, they had soda, and they had free ice cream floats at Bachman's. All this between the hours of 10 and 3. You would think they would be so full they could puke at the mere thought of more food. You wanna know the really sad part? I ate the same things, and although I'm not precisely hungry, I know I will be sometime soon. Scary.

It is very cool and rainy today. The temperature is 55 or lower. My plants don't seem to mind, but I do. Maybe I will make some soup for supper. Nice and low calorie, and warm to boot. Then again, leftover pizza, heated in the microwave is warm too. And we still have some of my favorite pizza, Canadian Bacon and pineapple. Yum. There's a thought, why is it "canadian" bacon? Just like "french" fries. What about these particular foods is essentially canadian or french. Somehow, I can't picture french fries in a fancy bistro in the heart of gay Paris, can you?

Anyway, maybe more later after I unwind after the kids are in bed and have a couple of wine coolers. They have been chilling since Thursday. Mmmmm . . .(at least my alcohol doesn't speak to me like it does to some people. Then again, I do think I have heard peanut butter cups calling my name . . . "Help me get this wrapper off and slip into something more comfortable.")

And the Beat Goes On . . .

Looks like my husband has stolen my (and Maggie's) Survivor idea. However, he left out a couple of important details. The contestants may not stop in any towns with populations larger than 1500 and must hit all bars and honkey-tonks in those town. Ah, yes, they must also speak with a lisp and hold hands. If they start in West Texas, they all should be dead by El Paso.

The kids and I curled up on the couch this evening and watched Peggy Sue Got Married on Bravo. Jack kinda wandered in and out, but Rhiannon really seemed to really like it. Of course, this is the same kid that sat on the couch with me one Saturday night and watched I Remember Mama on PBS. She really likes movies that tell stories, unlike the "shot-em-ups" they make today. Now, Jack, he thinks the more explosions the better.

Kids got to bed at 9 and it wasn't the wine coolers calling my name (too cold for that) but the Taco Doritos. I finally put them away, but not before the damage was done. I really need to get myself back on track. It seems like every time I decide I am gonna do it, I do good for a day or so, then I am right back, mired in chocolate (or pizza or Doritos or, well, you get the picture.) I was going to finally go out and take a good walk on Friday during lunch, but I had forgotten the 20th Anniversary Party my office was throwing for a coworker (when he started at the WCRA I was in junior high. I don't think that comment was appreciated at the table, except for Christian and Jonathan, but, they are younger than I am.) Anyway, the lunch was at the Carousel restaurant, on top of the Radisson Hotel in downtown St. Paul. Some of our pictures from Christmas Eve last year were taken there. It has a truly spectacular view. Not to mention the buffet. I didn't eat too bad, really.

Well, time for most sane people (and me) to be in bed. I just don't think we are making Mass tomorrow. But, if I thought I was going to hell for missing Mass, I tell you, I'd be buried with an electric fan and a really really long extension cord, 'cause, then I'm goin' for sure. Nighty-night. Here's hoping my bedbugs stay in their own beds tonight.

Sunday, May 6, 2001

Well, today's adventure was bowling. Yes, I said bowling. Well, actually, first, we got Jack's hair cut. I decided to go with a different look from the one he has been sporting since he was a year old. We went with a shorter, more typical little boy cut. The result, he looks even less like my baby and more like the growing boy he is. Sigh.

Then we attempted to go to a bowling alley in Lakeville that we hadn't been to before. The reason, cheaper bowling. At this particular alley, each game cost $2.25 for an adult and 1.75 for a child, and $1 for the rental of those stylish and attractive shoes (I don't think even Marcia, the shoe queen, would want a pair of those.)

NEWSFLASH . . . this just in . . .It would appear that Buzz Lightyear is sharing Barbie's wardrobe, courtesy of my 7 year old daughter. I never knew Buzz was an intergalactic space ranger and a cross dresser. Tim Allen would be so proud.

Anyway, back to our bowling alley adventures. We made it to the bowling alley in downtown Lakeville. Although Lakeville is a growing suburb, it has an old fashioned downtown, even smaller than Maquoketa's downtown. Despite John's navigation taking us on the scenic route, we found the bowling alley. We went in and stepped back in time about 30 years. Unfortunately, all the lanes were full, so we headed out, this time with my navigation, to Burnsville Bowl, a large modern bowling facility (although it too has a bar attached. What's the deal with bowling alleys having bars attached? I have never seen one without one.)

The kids and I soon discovered their father is a closet bowling pro (we won't even consider what else is in his closet). Jack turned bowling into a running, contact sport. He actually managed about 3 spares. I think he would have been terribly disappointed if he threw a strike, 'cause then he wouldn't get his second turn. All this without ever rolling a ball down the alley faster than your average turtle mating.

Rhiannon developed the unfailing ability to fling the 8 pound bowling ball down the alley, (much like in slow pitch softball) where it landed with a resounding thud, and it still didn't break four miles an hour. Amazing. And Rhiannon, being of delicate feelings, felt bad whenever her little brother outscored her (which was frequently) or she was counseled on how not to loft the ball. I think I should have signed the kid up for softball. If she can loft a 8 pound bowling ball like that, imagine what the kid could do with a softball! As you can see from the pictures, the kids had a good time. They took to it like pros. In fact, I would say, they fit right in.

After a stop at Baker's Square for a half slice of chocolate peanut butter cup pie (even better than Reese's peanut butter cups, Lynne, you really must try it while you are in the 'States), we headed home for supper. I made a fairly good Chicken Marsala casserole and some sweet corn cake for supper. And now it is time to put my children to bed and relax myself. Perhaps, what, I hear something, just a moment, it sounds like my name being called from the kitchen, more specifically the 'fridge. Could it be my wine coolers are feeling neglected and taking lesson's from Mat's beer? Well, I guess I had better investigate that after the kids' bedtime. Toodles!

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Copyright © 2001 Ann Dominik. All rights reserved. Complaints about the technical details of this page can be directed to the abused geek who takes care of it for me, and is grossly underpaid for what he does, he thinks. No reproduction without written permission. The opinions and content of this site are my own, and not the responsibility of this site's host, my employer, my pets, my parents or anyone else you may care to blame. Please respect my opinions and I will do the same for you. I may on occasion publish e-mail to me; if you do not wish your mail to be published, please write CONFIDENTIAL or DO NOT PUBLISH at the top of the e-mail. If you would prefer to remain anonymous, please note that as well. If you're incapable of reasoned civilized discourse but feel compelled to correspond with me, I'll be happy to filter your mail out after a few choice comments regarding your ancestors, upbringing, and the likelihood of your family tree not forking in the past several generations. And thank you for checking out THE FLIP SIDE.