Help....I've been sucked into the responsible anti-social vortex commonly known as "having a job"!

I'm sorry I haven't written lately.  It hasn't been for lack of interesting or funny shit happening my life.  Quite the contrary really. 

I've finally emerged from the oblivion known as "being wrapped in the depressive cocoon of my comforter" and hit the ground running.  I am finally and thankfully gainfully employed.  After months of looking, interviewing, getting a job, losing the job to RIDICULOUS circumstances (seriously, when a new employee points out your MULTIPLE insurance and HIPAA violations....ummm, yeah you may wanna heed that warning before the Insurance Commissioner comes a knockin) then interviewing again and being passed over because I am "too personable".  A full 6 months, dozen plus interviews and over 162 resumes sent I have landed a job that I didn't even know existed and was referred to by an employer that I was applying for.  She said I'd be perfect for the position that another office had just mentioned they were looking to fill for an individual that was moving out of state after 10yrs of service with their practice.  Turns out her intuition was fabulous because after one interview that lasted 3 1/2 hours, two separate observations and a working interview I was offered the position of Hygiene Coordinator for a local dental practice.

My days of sleeping, crying and farming (on FarmVille) have ceased and while I'm happy for the steady paycheck and reason to put on pants I am finding that all this "work" is leaving me little time to write or just watch endless hours of Lifetime television.  It's a tough life I lead people. 

My kids are even bitching a bit because alas, their schedules aren't of the utmost importance in my day.  Their second complaint is that since returning to work my energy level has skyrocketed and thus I am on their asses every ten seconds about why they haven't picked up this or that and why they can't just "take care of it now" and "not 10 flippin minutes from now".  This statement is usually followed by mass amounts of eye rolling and serious attitude.

It's a magical time being the parent to a tween and a teen.  Sometimes I wonder if the Prozac will ever mellow me to the point of not wanting to beat the tar out of these two when they mount the attitude express on an hourly basis.  All I can think is that I need to bask in this time period now before Hannah hits puberty and I'm flanked by two raging hormonal beings.  When that day arrives I am going to go straight to my doctor and demand a monthly revolving prescription of Xanax that will need to be taken until they both no longer reside in my home.

For now I will just keep my focus on my new job and all the fun that will be had.  That was sarcasm by the way....

~JP

Well that's just the crazy talking....

I really truly hate being sick.  I think I spend so much time being sick that I've probably forgot how the hell it feels to live my life healthy.  I've coughed and hacked.  Slept and sweated.  I've medicated and medicated and medicated some more and now I'm just plain pooped.  My taste buds are shot and the only things that sound mildly appetizing to me on a continuous basis are freezy pops and saltine crackers.  Both of which I have to fight Penny for.  Damn dog.  I swear she doesn't get the fact that she is, in fact...a dog...and NOT a person.  I'm probably a lot to blame for that but seriously I have never met a dog that is more like a person than this one. 

Today I managed to sleep my way through another 24 hour cycle of life but I woke with the most horrific panic.  It was raining.  It was dark and Jon was not here like he was supposed to be.  I flipped.  It was a rainy night almost 19 years ago that my family life was changed forever, so things like this get to me.

I have a spot on my chin that was a pimple that turned into a boo boo because I can't seem to stop picking and fidgeting with things and so I had to have it covered with a bandaid and neosporin in hopes of letting it heal.  It had done a pretty good job of healing until today when I woke to find that Jon had not appeared at the time that he said he would.  In 15 minutes I managed to mangle the newly healing flesh.

When Jon did appear and explained his tardiness the first thing he noticed is the area on my chin.  He was not pleased and immediately questioned why I did it.

Jon:  Jessica did you pick at your chin?

Me:  Maybe.

Jon:  Maybe as in yes?

Me:  Ok...yes.  But it's only because I get anxious.

Jon:  We have got to find something else for you to do when you get anxious.

Me:  I've tried but I always resort to picking at or fidgeting with something.

....and here is where Jon felt that he was having a pure stroke of genius....

Jon:  Well maybe from now on when you are nervous you can just give me a hand job!  Problem solved.

Me:  I don't know...I get anxious a lot.

Jon:  Sounds okay by me.

Me:  Just one problem.

Jon:  Yeah, what's that?

Me:  Chaffing.

I'd like to say that this deterred him.  Instead it sent him into a fit of laughter.  Men!

~JP

This...that...and my mother

I had thought that I was on the upward swing of this bronchitis crap.  Apparently life and my body decided to bitch slap me back to reality and I had the night from hell.  I had gone to have a belated birthday celebration with one of my dear friends.  It was all cheese fries, gallon of daquiri's (with 6 extra shots) and "The Hangover".  Oh, yeah...I forgot to mention that we are both sick as fucking dogs.  Yep, we are the two ra-tards that decided traipsing around in 20 degree weather without appropriate winter gear was a swell idea ALL in the name of fashion.  We are both mother's too and that means we are influencing the youth of America.  Be afraid...be very VERY afraid.

Anyways, in light of our being basically poor but still wanting to celebrate another birthday we decided to not infect the whole of the world by going out for dinner and drinks and instead just kept it casual and simple.  As usual we had a blast but even while we were at the store buying supplies for the cheese fries I could tell that I wasn't feeling so good.  Midway through the movie both of us were wiggling around and generally not in our usual perky moods.  The movie ended and I scooted on home. 

It was straight to bed for me.  The days of being able to bounce back from illnesses, even ones that come with shots in the rear in order to get ya back in fighting form, are getting fewer and far between.  I got into p.j.'s, medicated myself and attempted to sleep.  That was NOT gonna be an easy task.  I started to feel like I was drowning when I would lay flat.  When I would prop myself up to get rid of the drowning sensation I would have an excruciating pain in my neck.  I'd begin to feel really hot then freezing cold.  After about 30 minutes of turning round and round in the bed I got up.

I contemplated watching television.  But I was sooooo tired.  I thought about getting on the computer and writing but the only thoughts that were filling my head were how much it hurt to breath and how flippin tired I was.   For your sake, my readers, I chose to spare you from that torturous hell.

When I finally did fall asleep I had the most realistic dream about my mother.

She's been on my mind a lot lately.  I don't get to see my parents nearly enough.  I used to spend the days of my youth trying to figure out how to get as far as possible away from them.  Now that I've grown up and I'm in the middle of one of the hardest moments of my life thus far, all I seem to do is think of her and how I wish she were here near me.

The recent news of her issues with diabetes and how she now has to be on insulin injections and is having diminished visions makes those feelings of wanting to be close to her so much stronger.  The fact that my mother and I can, at times, be the exact same side of a coin.  I don't know about you but me I used to tell myself, daily if not minute by minute "I refuse to be anything like my mother".  It's not that she isn't a good person, because truth be told she is wonderful.  Big heart.  Kind and full of spirit.  Funny as all hell and loves to find beauty in the most simple of things.  She can bring any plant to life and people gravitate to her like she's a goddamn magnet. 

I guess I am just the typical woman who has to deal with her mother issues.  You always see things in your parents that you want to do the exact opposite of.  I made those observations when I was like 5 and carried them with me to this day.  Sadly most of the shit that I said that I wouldn't do...yep, you guessed it...I've gone right on and done it.  Way to be original.

I'd love to say that I haven't made a few shrinks rich off of my mother issues, but why lie. 

So last night or more truthfully this morning, in a cold medicine induced haze, I had a dream about my mother owning an antique shop.  It was run out of the bottom floor of this gigantic craftsman style home that I've never seen before but now can't seem to stop thinking about.

It was an extremely bizarre dream filled with people from all throughout my life.  There were customers that were my old classmates from high school and a delivery driver that was one of my old bosses.  To say that it was crazy would have been the understatement of the year.  And I know that we are only 9 days in thus far but still it was some weird stuff. 

When I finally woke up today, at the sad hour of like 2p, it was to the sound of my mom calling me on the phone.  Apparently her mothering beacon had homed in on the fact that her oldest child was sick and so she had to reach out and telephonically touch me.  I talked for a few short minutes before I told her that I just wanted to go back to sleep and I've been going in and out of it since then.

It's not overly exciting but that's what is going on in the world of me.

~JP

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it could be what saves a marriage....

Jon and I went on a date on Saturday.  Shouldn't be like a huge announcement I know...but for me it is. 

Marriage, relationship....hell, life hasn't been going all that happily for me or for Jon, so a date was a miraculous occasion. 

It wasn't extravagant, it wasn't even overly romantic...but it was enough to give thought as to whether there is still something to work with. 

In the win column went the fact that we were at a steak restaurant and I didn't once think about stabbing him in the jugular, hand or even male appendage with the knife that sat in front of me for the entire meal.  Also in the win column was the fact that although the conversation did slip towards the angry unsaid stuff that had been building up from our last argument it went back to the easy casual conversing of people who still very much love one another.

Jon took it upon himself to utilize some of the techniques that he had picked up from a program that he purchased in order to assist him in our marital discord.  He was asking questions to try anything to start communication between the two of us.  He would ask, I would talk and he would listen.  Then it just felt natural for me to ask him something and let him talk while I listened.  The listening part is a little hard for me since I seem to feel the need to interrupt.  That's just a little something...okay a big something that I need to work on.

Instead of going to a movie after dinner we opted to go to a local bar and have a drink while sitting outside on the back patio away from everyone and just talking.  I wasn't willing to let go of the conversation that had started at dinner and while I would have loved to see a movie, my priority right now is to keep the line of dialogue open.  We sat for almost an hour just laughing and talking.  It seemed natural and easy like it's supposed to be.

In the loss column, which wasn't anyone's fault except for possibly cold and flu season was the fact that we needed to cut the night short because A) he was having pain just talking from a sore throat and then B) he started hacking.  Yep, that's a mood killer. 

We called it a night and haven't had an argument.  I guess there are still some things left to be curious about in our relationship and that may just be what we need to work our way back to a new start.

~JP

Lowering expectations in an attempt to lessen dissappointment...

Ok.  I've decided I need to make a new plan.  The old plan which has been revised a million few times over the past 3+ years ISN'T WORKING!  I had formulated this plan when I found out that Jon had basically sold our marriage down the river in an attempt to prove a point about how...oh, fuck...I have no idea what the hell he was trying to do but lets just say we went from happily married to spending close to $10,000 in therapy.  You figure out what that means.  Oh, and when you do...please email me.

Anyways, I am DEFINITELY almost pretty sure that the reason the original plan didn't work is because of user error and not a fault in the actual plan.  I mean seriously...how could a plan that started out with the words "hibernate for 7 straight days living off of only Hagaan Daaz and peanut butter toast"....possibly have turned out so poorly? 

I swear, please remind me never to write a mission statement because CLEARLY I am not able to inspire anything more than a 3 year downslide of emotions, confidence and the ability to actually tell the difference between the top and bottom half of my body.  Seriously people...I SWEAR I had a waist.  It was just here, like....okay...so it's been awhile but I have pictures...it did exist!

I went and took a walk tonight at the park and seriously contemplated jumping over the safety railing and into the bayou.  But if it didn't result in serious bodily harm by being eaten by ravenous crocs that were just waiting for a fatty to hurl herself over the rail...all I'd have to show for my failed attempt to "end the madness" would be a short swim in freezing water followed by a walk of shame and possibly pneumonia and or flesh eating bacteria.

And thus the cycle of mediocrity would continue. 

So instead of taking the deep six I decided to bring it on home, sipping a chai and lay here in my comfy bed contemplating the meaning of my life.  I had just about resigned myself to the idea that I would make it to sleep before midnight when my hacking teenager comes strolling in talking so loud that our next door neighbors could have heard her conversation clear as a bell.  It pissed me off to no end.  Not only did my "plan" become an epic failure now my children have decided that they no longer need rules and can come and go in the house as they please, making their own bedtimes and having no regard for the fact that people have jobs that they need to get a goodnight's sleep in order to be at peak performance.  I mean, I am totally NOT talking about me because once again I fall into the unemployed and complete failure category.  But there is still Jon for us to hang our families hopes and financial dreams on.

Do you see why maybe I should REVISE the original plan to oh, I don't know...start with the words "be gainfully employed individual who sets and enforces rules and boundaries"??

But even that line seems as though I am aiming to high.  Maybe I should focus on keeping my expectations low therefore ensuring that the possibility of dissappointment is less likely.  Instead of stating that I will go to the gym 5 days a week, I should instead say that I will make a definite effort to walk to my mailbox to retrieve the mail.  Lower expectation...better chance of success. 

I think I will sleep on this and see what other winning suggestions I can come up with.  It's a lot of pressure...I hope I don't crack.

~JP

Maybe it's time to rewrite the traditional fairytale.....

Once upon a time.....isn't that how they always suck you in?

Well this ain't no fairytale.  That's for damn sure.

Back when I was younger the only thing that I seemed to want was to be part of a two some.  A couple.  I probably should have been a twin.  That fact would have more than likely resulted in my mother going crazy faster than she actually has.

It seemed from birth I was just one of those individuals that flourished in an environment where I could be with someone else.  My mom probably fostered this by allowing me to sleep in her bed until I was a toddler.  Then while she was a single parent we almost always shared a room.  That continued until I was 11 years old and she married my step-dad.  I had my own room for a whole 7 months.  Then came my first sister and then my second sister a mere 15 months later.  I shared a room with them until I visualized smothering them both in my sleep.  My parents realized teenage-dom was upon them and I evicted myself from the co-op bedroom and out to my own space.  Sadly it was the front porch.  I mean what can you expect when you are living in a 2 bedroom house with 5 people, 2 of which are a screaming baby and toddler respectively. 

The "porch" as it was named was actually the standard Florida "sun room".  So it was completely enclosed.  The stupid part of my move was the fact that my room was the first thing that people saw and had to walk through when they came to my parents house.  Let's just say I had the cleanest teenagers room EVER!

It was also one way to insure that your teenage daughter doesn't do anything inappropriate with any boys in her bedroom.  There are times that I wish we had this same arrangement now that I have older daughters.  But then I take a stroll into their rooms and realize that if we did have that set up we could never have anyone over.  They'd never make it through the sea of crap in order to make it into the rest of the house for a visit.

But enough about my bedroom from age 12 to 14 years of age.  After the death of my sister Alicia I would go and lay in bed with my baby sister Nicolle in order to soothe her.  From the day she was born she had shared a room with both me and Alicia and then just Alicia and now she was alone.  So I'd lay with her.  Then just a few short years later I had a little one of my own to occupy my bed. 

It wasn't just sleeping either.  It was life in general.  I don't think I was ever meant to be a singleton.  At a young age I befriended a neighbor and we became the best of friends.  From the age of 3 up until 16, I don't think there is one good memory of my life that doesn't include her.  We were like two peas in a pod and I liked it just fine. 

After friendships came dating.  I always seemed to be happier when I was part of a couple.  I'm beginning to see that there is a pattern of confidence issues.  So now 12 years into the longest pairing I've had since the birth of my first child I am lost in the fact that we are taught young that every fairytale is all roses and fairies and pumpkins turning into carriages.  Outside of the mother's being audibly missing out of almost EVERY Disney story for as long as I can remember just about ever story of falling love has no mention of depression, finances, liars and heartbreak. Yeah they may start out realistic with the orphans and the working in your own home for your evil step-mother but then you are whisked away and have rodents to do your housework.  That's a step up in my books.  Not reality and yet we eat it up and ask for seconds.

Now I sit pondering the last few years of my life and as I think about the ever changing dimensions of my coupledom I wonder if my inability to stand on my own two feet and worry about what I want and what I need has possibly left me contemplating how a lifetime of being part of a two some has made it next to impossible for me to think of just myself.  Alone. 

As a mother I can never truly be alone.  Hell just trying to pee is a friggin affair.  If I don't announce it I will undoubtedly have a knock, a random walk in or an all out search and rescue mounted if I don't answer when yelled to from another room.  I'm in the bathroom.  I'm taking a piss.  LEAVE ME ALONE!  Sadly I feel I should mention that my kids are 15 and 10.  They are walking, talking, thinking, able to make toast and not burn down the house, wipe their own ass, tie their own shoes and probably do more on a computer than I ever care to know how to do...individuals.  But the second a drop of my piss hits the toilet water....they become so unbelievably needy.  It's a curse of motherhood throughout the world.  No matter what their age....from infants to adults....you go to cop a squat and they are on you like white on rice!

Every decision that I have made since my children's conception has been with them in mind.  Whether it be at the forefront or in the back of my mind, I try to keep them ever present in everything I choose to do.  Sometimes I wonder if never taking a step back and making a choice solely based on what I would like, enjoy, want or so forth has been the best mode of thinking.  Then add in the partnership of marriage and suddenly I find myself farther down the pole of priorties. 

Even when I try to make what I deem to be a semi-selfish decision I find myself second guessing it and wondering how it will affect the ones I love most.  Never once thinking about how I should be loving myself which would in turn allow me to be a better _________ (fill in the blank with title) to __________ (fill in the blank with recipient).  Yet out of selfless decisions comes pretty selfish children and at times a selfish husband.  How I have managed this...I still am not sure.  I know that I cannot control Jon's mindset or behavior, but my kids... it is the age, for the most part, but sometimes you just wonder....if Mother Teresa would have had kids...would they have been selfless saints as well??  Hmmmmmm.......

Here was my attempt at doing something just for me tonight.  I left the house to go take a walk at a local park and then decided to stop for a some chai tea on the way back to the house to warm me up.  Now I am sitting here thinking there were probably at  least 10 other things that I could've/should've done in that 45 minutes and with the $5 that I just spent.   This line of thought then leads me to going out last night with a girlfriend of mine to VooDoo Fest.  I haven't been out like this since....hmmmm....April.  The tickets were free.  Parking was free.  And yet I feel like an ass for not including my family.

It's borderline ridiculous.  Where is the pill that turns off the "over caring about every little miniscule detail of every second of my day and what I am doing with it and how it may possibly be affecting those around me"? 

Where's the fairytale about the princess that falls madly in love with her prince and then he does something ridiculously stupid and leaves her in a depressive tail spin without any dwarf's or magic fairy godmother to snap her out of it??  Where's that story?

I think I shall write it.....right after I stop feeling guilty for sitting back here on my laptop and not being out in the living room with my kids who are glued to one or another multi media device. 

~JP

The view through my one good eye.....

Life just keeps getting.....harder to see through both eyes.  As if I don't have enough to contend with in the areas of job, love, motherhood...now I have to deal with an incessent problem of over active allergies...in my eyes!  What the shit?

Last week it was a persistent issue of teary eyes that was clouding my view and now it's my left eye that seems to want to swell up at the most inconvenient of moments.  Then as soon as I hit it with some eye drops I am able to buy myself a good hour or so of relief and a two eyed view on how crappy things seem to be going right now.

Funny how the view through only one eye doesn't cut down the troubles to a more manageable number.  Maybe if they both swell shut then at least I can pretend to be invisible and hopefully all the bad stuff will disappear as well. 

Until that becomes a reality, at least the bad stuff disappearing part, I will just have to shut both my eyes...for the night at least and hope that the view of life in my dreams is a lot happier than the reality!

~JP

Penny's Thought of the Day....

Being back at home after just a few days back out in the work place has been both a blessing and blow to my confidence.  I've relinguished my Crackberry to Penny's capable hands....ergh, I mean paws.  Most of my calls are from Jon, since I haven't gotten any responses on the millions (okay 5) resumes I've turned loose in the employment world.  I don't want Jon to think I'm slipping back into my depressive ways so I rely on Penny to give him other reasons as to why I won't answer my phone.  I think she's doing a pretty good job so far.....

....ok...so she doesn't follow direction well, but at least she didn't tell him I was sleeping...or working my FarmVille farm on Facebook.  But there is just one problem...she seems to have just one go to phrase for where I am or what I am doing....

....hmmmm, guess i gotta work on some other answers for her to give him because I'm getting REALLY tired of him coming home with Imodium and Cranberry in an attempt to "help with my bathroom issues".

My subconcious is screaming......

I am supposed to be sleeping.  Actually in approximately 26 minutes I am supposed to be getting a text message from some friends that will prompt me to throw on gym clothes and shimmy my fat and tired ass on down to the gym for some cardio.  Unfortunately for them and my ass...I will not be in attendance.  Judging by the sound of the torrential rain outside I am beginning to think that they may not be there either.  But back to the real reason why I am writing this.  For the past week I have been having this completely realistic and unbelievably horrifying dream that I am drowning.  Here's the hitch...there's no water.  None.  Not one single solitary drop.  Also for the last week I have been back to work. 

Coincidence?

Yeah...I think not.

I don't get it.  I wanted to go back to work.  I needed to go back to work.  My sanity needed me to go back to work.  My bank account REALLY needed me to go back to work.  I went back to work and BOOM dreams of drowning in no friggin water.

I had weathered horrible interviews and kiss off emails.  No dreams of drowning then. 

I get two simultaneous interviews for two seemingly great companies and it's like a battle ensues for who will be lucky enough to be my employer, if there is such a thing and NOW I'm having nightmares about drowning.  Where were the goddamn nightmares when I had no job.  Not even a prospect of a job. 

Or where were the nightmares back when I had the job that lumped the biggest weight of stress I've had put on me since Jon and I seperated.  Where o where were the nightmares then?  Oh, wait...I remember...I silenced those nightmares with mass amounts of sleeping medication.  Nevermind.

Ugh.  I cannot believe that this is happening.  I mean I CAN believe that this is happening because this is SO the kind of THING that happens to me on a continual basis. 

I tried to talk to Jon when this one hit tonight.  It was by far the worse of the 7 that I have now had.  After patting my arm and muttering, "it okay...it a dream" I began to hear his steady snore again and realized he had figured that he'd done enough to soothe my fears and he was going back to sleep. 

That was an hour ago.

I laid in the bed for another 30 minutes sobbing until I felt the need for a tissue because I was getting grossed out by Penny trying to be the doggie version.  I'm all for giving my dog a kiss or letting her lick my face.  But I have to draw the line at her trying to slurp boogers from my nose.  That just crosses some kind of line. 

My subconcious and my gut are telling me that this job is not the place for me.  I keep trying to convince myself it is because A) it's been almost 3 months since I was cleared to go back to working full time B) I really miss having some kind of job and C) I'm pretty sure Jon is gonna either drop dead or kill me if I don't start working on a regular basis to ease up the financial stress.  I've always listened to that voice inside me.  Not just the ones inside my head that say, "eat chocolate" or "go ahead have another glass of wine"...I'm talking about the ones that say, "this doesn't feel right"...the ones deep in my gut and my subconcious.  The ones that seem to guide me towards the things I need to be doing and away from the things that I shouldn't be doing. 

I've been trying to shush them these last few years.  I shushed them when my marriage fell apart and they told me to run the other way and don't ever look back.  I shushed them when I insisted on returning to my last job even when my body and my doctor were saying NOT a good idea.  And now I think I've got them good and pissed because for the last week they have been getting increasingly louder in regards to this job. 

More and more I find myself shying away from what seems like the right choice and going for the one that makes others happy.  Sometimes I wonder when will it be my turn to make choices for the betterment of myself again and not for everyone else. 

Maybe it's the exhaustion...or the sound of the rain....or the quieting of the voices that seem pacified for being listened to for the moment...but I am suddenly very sleepy and hoping that I will get a bit of rest.  Rest without the feeling of drowning.  Rest so that I can hopefully think more clearly.  Rest that will most likely allow me to make a decision to sink or to swim.

~JP

Penny's Thought of the Day....

Penny's Thought of The Day....(and update from Me on recovery)

Recovery is still progressing.  Penny is now getting her attitude back which is fine by us.  Last night, for the first time since the accident she tried to burrow and curl up to go to sleep.  Me, still worried that she would seize and I wouldn't know it, was quick to seek her out....

....she seemed highly aggitated with this frame of thought.  Finally, I decided that I needed to just let her sleep.  I am happy to report that she didn't seize or die in her sleep as I dramatically envisioned in not 1 but 6 different dreams.  I woke up after each one and frantically searched the blankets for her only to find a sleeping dog.

Around 4am I finally gave into the throws of utter exhaustion and slept until morning.  Jon woke us both to give Penny her medicine.  Penny seemed rested and ready to eat.  She seemed a little incredulous towards her kibble.  I wonder what that is about???

Penny's Thought of the Day...

Thank god she is so damn cute or her attitude on how I'm dealing with sleeplessness over being her doggie nurse made would really piss me off! 

Penny's Thought of the Day....

I had thought that I would keep "Penny's Thought of the Day" on hiatus for a bit while she recovered but since she has a legion (okay like 10) of fans she felt that she owed them a post.  Here's a little montage to show you that while she is a little "looped" from the concusion she is on the road to recovery.

 

We aren't out of the woods yet.  The doctor says she's at about 90% and there is still a worry of a hemorrhage or even a brain aneurism.  She will have to remain in a constant state of rest either quietly with me or in a padded kennel.  Again I laugh at the idea that my dog has ended up in a padded cell before I have.  

We are so grateful to not have lost our Penny.  Another loss of a family pet so soon after losing 2 dogs less than 3 months ago would have put us all over the edge.  We are thankful for the great care she has received at our veterinarian.  She will go back in a week to check and see how the cortizone is affecting her motor skills.  So far she can stand, semi bark and responds to her name.  She has a ravenous appetite and is eating up ALL the cuddle time.  

Thanks for all the love and well wishes.

~ JP & Penny 

Penny's Thought of the Day...

Because it's all about fair treatment...for every man, child and dog...

Havin fun on a rainy Sunday afternoon....

Penny's Thought of the Day...

And the waffle's...shall set the truth free

If you are the parent of two or more children...you must already know that one of  your most prevalent questions of the day will be, undoubtedly, "you like me more...right?"

Sometimes its thrown out casually as you drive down the road..."mom, please tell her I'm your favorite".

Other times it is while they are slapping and trying to get each other into a headlock in the house...."MOM....SAY I AM YOU'RE FAVORITE...SERIOUSLY...MOM SHE'S TURNING BLUE, SAY I'M YOUR FAVORITE AND I'LL LET HER LIVE.  WELL FOR TODAY AT LEAST".  Sad when you realize that I have two girls.    I swear they would take any boy down in a heartbeat IF and only if it meant I would exclaim that they are indeed my favorite.

It doesn't matter what the circumstances are you must, must, MUST resist the urge to answer this question at all cost.  Instead saying things like, "I love you both equally"..."you both have special qualities that the other doesn't have and that makes you each hold a special place in my heart".

No matter how drunk you are or how pissed you may be for any of the following offenses....
A) vomiting in your mouth when they were an infant
B) pissing in their $30 pair of sparkly shoes that they HAD TO HAVE in order to complete the princess costume for Halloween
C) being told as you sit in the carpool line to drop them off that today was the day that they were responisble for the class snack
D) that they need a song selection (and if it could include sheet music that would be super great) for school the next day and OH YEAH it's already 11pm
....you cannot and I do repeat CAN NOT smile at them and say "have I told you lately that I love your sister best!"

As a parent you must ALWAYS remain neutral.  You are Switzerland!  You are not partial to one or the other.

No matter how much you'd love to stoop down and hug on the one that didn't make you cry over the fact that once again you had failed to provide them with the correct amount of __________(fill in the blank) it was that they needed so desperately bad that they had to come and interrupt you from watching Lifetime or a weeks worth of soap opera's from the DVR...or worse...interrupting the first sex you've had IN MONTHS....and profess to them that they are indeed your absolute favorite.  At that given moment at least.

Nope ya can't do it.  However you can listen to them profess it themselves over the most ridiculous items.

Olivia:  Waaafffflessss!  I love waffles!

Hannah:  Yeah...I know...I love'em to...that's why I got them.

Olivia:  Mmmmm....I'm gonna have waffles for breakfast!

Hannah:  Ahhh...no-ah you're not.  They are mine.  Like...ALL MINE!

Olivia:  Seriously??

Hannah: Yep, those are mine.  Not yours.

Olivia:  Really?

Hannah:  Yep.  All mine.  Mom bought them for me.

Olivia:  But I want waffles for breakfast.

Hannah:  Sucks to be you.

Olivia:  I'm gonna ask mom if I can have some waffles.

Hannah:  Don't bother.  She said at the store that they are only for me.  Meaning....they are mine.  Not yours. 

Olivia:  ???

Hannah:  Yep, she bought me waffles.  Just for me.  That means she loves me best.

Teenager walks off in huff...best friend in tow.  Soon to be 10yr old smiles as if she's just been given $1M.

Hmmmm...somewhere between grocery freezer case and my freezer "Leggo my Eggo" turned into "Bitch step off...these frozen breakfast circles mean mom loves me best". 

It's a profound moment.

Word to other multi-child households...choose your breakfast wisely...you never know what message it will send.

~JP

Penny's Thought of the Day...

Stabby boob pain...(part deux) & Penny's Thought of the Day...

It's baaaaaacccck! 

I was mid laundry folding (so I'm totally blaming domestic servitude for this mishap) when I literally was taken breathless by immense pain.  I thought maybe I had moved in some bizarre way but as time went on...folding shirt after boxers after bra after socks after underwear after pants after bathing suit and placing in owner specific piles...it became increasingly worse.  It finally got to the point where I couldn't move without feeling like not only my left boob but the whole upper left side of my chest was engulfed in this hot seering pain. 

It feels more like the return of the stabby boob pain than it does the costochondritis that cost me my last job and possibly my grasp on mental stability.  I am literally willing myself to believe that it cannot possibly be a reinfection of that. 

I think my boobs are striking back against the 27 months of life sustaining breast feeding I did when the girls were babies.  I wonder if I take all the money saved from buying formula during that time and put it towards reconstructive surgery for these puppies if that would make them stop acting like under arm rest and go back to being the fun bags that they once used to be.

The pain is too severe to really contemplate cutting on them at this moment but the idea of anesthesia is appealing to me at this very painful moment. 

It came on so sudden but is getting progressively worse as the minutes turn to hours. 

I thought Penny would remain supportive of how crappy I began to feel as the day came to a close yesterday but as I sit here writing this and trying to switch from cold to heat on the afflicted area I can see she is more and more turned off by my constant whimpering.

What happened to solidarity between women??  Oh, wait..I think she's trying to tell me something....

Ahhhh...crap.  She has a point.  If Jon's mom comes over and there's "Mount Laundry" prominently displayed on our sofa then I'm sure it will just scream, "my daughter-in-law is a FAILURE".  It's one thing to drain your family financially by eliminating one entire income and being sick all the time...then there is the whole deficiency in the motherhood department...but putting everyone's knickers on display because your having stabby boob pain is pretty much the final straw in the eyes of the extended family. 

Or at least I think it's written somewhere like that.  Maybe in the Bible after "don't covet thy neighbor" and "never allow someone to sleep past 8a on a Sunday so that they can worship" but before the chapter about "spare the rod, spoil the child".  It's been awhile since I read the Bible but I am pretty sure I saw it in there once.

It's now been 6 full hours of excruciating, non stop pain.  I am down to typing with just my right hand and Penny has gone from sitting faithfully by my side to just getting comfy and leaving me to cry while Jon snores and HGTV plays in the background.  It's the symphany of my life.

I've now consumed enough Sleepy Time tea and a fair amount of ibuprofen in order to allow me to try and get a bit of rest.  Sun up will bring more laundry and hopefully less pain. 

~JP

Penny's Thought of the Day...