High Definition

Holy crap…I’m in HD…really I mean it.  I got new glasses for the first time in years, decades, eons…you get the point…it’s been a long damn time….and I don’t like it.  Don’t get me wrong I totally enjoy being able to see (especially when I am driving) but I wasn’t so excited to see myself.  I’ve been living in  my own misty, blurry, vasaline on the camera lenz, photoshop haze for some time now and well…it wasn’t so bad…but now…yikes!  How could I not have known that I looked so damn old??????  When did I get these lines around my mouth that make me look like a freaking puppet?  AND why didn’t anyone tell me that my skin looked like that…ugh..ugh…ugh.  I am totally jazzed that my frames are cute (Coach…love…don’t tell Charlie) but I am NOT jazzed that I had to get 2…yup…2 pairs.  One for distance (street signs and the scoreboard) and a pair for distance.  I can’t do the whole progressive bi-focal thing so for now I’m doing the 2 pair thing.  Soon I’m going to have to get a chain like an old lady to keep them organized.  A pair on my face and a pair around my neck.  The “Reading glasses” or as they should be called...the “holy crap I have newsprint on my nose if I don’t wear my glasses “ pair are also super cute…Kate Spade (again…don’t tell Charlie)   I mean he was standing in the eye place with me but he was walking around with Alex so I’m not 100% sure if he was paying attention to my selection or not but just in case…shhhhhhh.  Now the eye doctor could not put my full strength scrip in my glasses because he was worried that 1.  My head may explode and 2.  I would fall down…a lot.  Even at half strength the floor is a lot closes and I have taken a few GIANT steps off the curb and just about biffed it in the gutter…sober…graceful aren’t I.  It is nice to see…it’s a good thing Charlie is a god looking man because I realize now that I haven’t SEEN him in years…but his eyes are great so he has always loved me…puppet lined face and all.

EF You Forrest Gump

We had Physical Therapy today.  Just like we do…every Monday…at 1:00…because I have nothing better to do on summer vacation.  Alex actually likes it,  they have a ball pit.  When you are 2 can you ask for anything more?  But today was one of those days that just piss me off because, honestly, if you have an inkling months ago wouldn’t it be better to tell me then as opposed to today when I’m already hot from the 150 degree weather and the poopy 7 year old who bitched the entire time he had to hang out at therapy with his brother? (wow…run on sentence)  But the answer is obviously NO because then I wouldn’t have been surprised (and pissed) over the revelation that Alex needs braces.  Not the Marsha Brady can’t go to the dance kind of braces…nothing tasting like metal for my little man…the EVIL, PLASTIC, VELCRO,BOOT, FOREST EFFING GUMP LOOKING BRACES.  Because putting a helmet on his head 2 summers ago wasn’t bad (mean) enough…noooooooooo, now were going to make him have blistery, stinky feet.  Why? Well….to be honest when he walks/stands he looks like Bambi on ice.  His little ankles roll in and he never used the outside edge of his feet.  I don’t even think he knows that he has an outside edge to his feet. So once again it is “Lab Rat” time and we must get MORE equipment.  I know that this will help….I”m gonna strap his feet in the little braces every day (b/c ya know Mr. 25 ain’t going to do it) but it doesn’t mean I have to like it…….so the next time you want to make fun of some ding dong running like a dork just think of Alex and know that if you EVER make fun of HIM I will make you smell one of those sweaty, stinky, slimy little braces that he will wear all summer long.

Top 10

Top 10 things to NEVER say to me……

1.     1.  You are so lucky your husband is home every day for 4 months (what about the 8 months he’s gone)

2.    2.  God gives special babies to special mommies (I don’t want to be special)

3.    3.  What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger (yup, made me strong enough to kill you)

4.    4.  We are doing everything we can….(really, then get someone else b/c you suck)

5.    5.  Oh, he’ll catch up (when…cuz I’m waiting)

6.    6.  My sister’s (brothers, neighbors…someone) baby had a hole in his heart when he was born, it was horrible.  (People, you haven’t seen horrible)

7.    7.  He doesn’t walk?  What wrong with him? (well, jackass, I was to lazy to teach him to walk and having him dust my floors with his butt seemed like a better idea)

8.    8.  I put him on “blah blah” prayer list.  ( I know you mean well but how is a list going to help)

9.   9.   It’s in Gods hands (really?  Cuz God dropped the ball on heart formation day)

10.  10.  What’s his life expectancy?  (longer than yours after I rip out your throat)

So now you’ve been warned!  J

Other peoples kids.....

I am waiting for the day that I am not irritated by other peoples children.  Not the loud ones….good God, they irritate everyone, but the good ones…the cute ones…the kids of my friends, neighbors, and other baseball wives.  But I am not getting there.  I try to chant in my head my own personal mantra…it’s not their fault…it’s not their fault…it’s not their fault….sooooo QUESTION OF THE DAY….whose fault is it?  Is it mine (probably yes, most things that are in this blog are 100 % my fault), is it theirs…no…not really but if they hadn’t been so damn normal I might feel  a little better.  Yes, I said it….I do not like the normal, age appropriate, milestone reaching children of this world.  I am happy for you that your child is the same age as Alex and can run, jump, eat, talk, loves Toy Story…hell, can even say cute pick up lines.  What I am not happy about is that in your desire to show me your kids new trick (which you have every right to be excited over…but hey, this is about me) you seem to forget that MINE doesn’t do any of that.  I KNOW that every child is different…..I KNOW that Alex had the pleasure of having a tube jammed down his throat for the 1^st 6 months and the awesomeness of having his ribs cracked open not once, not twice but…wait for it THREE times….oh the JOY!!!!  I KNOW that every thing he does is a flippin miracle…but I don’t want a miracle…I want normal.  I sat in Durham at a wives lunch where we all just hung out and chatted and Alex ate pizza…it was awesome, amazing, super duper cool AND it was great that the wives that were there with me knew that this was a HUGE milestone for him, and they were excited for him….BUT why do I have to be?  He should have been smooshing carrotts and peas on his face at 6 months not only getting brave enough now.  Look, I know that my kid is messed up…he deserves to be.   You have all that crap taped to your face for all that time and tell me how comfy you are with a fork coming at your lips, but still.  There are kiddos who are starting to walk…Alex doesn’t.  Tyson wrote a damn story about it…..it was his 1^st grade “feelings” report.  “My little brother, Alex is special.  He is 2 ½ years old.  He will be 3 in October.  He still can’t walk  or talk.  It makes me sad that he can’t play with me.  It makes me sad when people ask what’s wrong with him.  It makes me mad when they ask if he is dumb.”  REALLY???????  Is he dumb?  Nope.  Is he lazy?  I’m voting yes, but I’m lazy too and if someone would carry me around all day I’d totally let them.  We are making strides every day here in Casa Alex but don’t be mad if I don’t applaud when your kid starts to walk, or waves “bye bye” at me.  Don’t be mad if I don’t comment about it on FB…which I’m going to take a break from soon.  So to all you proud mommys and daddys out there…good for you…go talk about it to your other friends.  Do I care about you and your kid…yes.  BUT…..I am a big bitter mess who has to fight with the insurance co., the therapists (yup I got a few), the doctors, the health care supply people…crap, even the airlines cuz they don’t make it easy.  I have to feed my kid thru a tube in his tummy because 1.  He is scared to death of anything coming near his mouth (getting braver) and 2.  His vocal chord is paralyzed so it doesn’t close to protect his airway and sometimes (lots of the time) the stuff ends up in his lungs.  So when your kid starts chewing gum at the miraculous age of 10 months I don’t want to know about it. I’ll find out that he’ a gum chewer when he gets it in your hair.

An Old FB note...but still fitting...from spring training 09

Jen wanted to know why I was on FB at 6 am this morning. Well, I had been up for hours. Now after all day I am so tired. I know that it is only 8:30 but I could sleep for the next 6 days, but can I go to bed? NOOOOO...I have to be up, all the time, at the beck and call of everyone. Waiting for my husband to figure out what he did to his isight camera, waiting for Tyson to stop talking and go to sleep, waiting for the next thing on Alexs' schedule. At some point my face is going to crack open, or my hair will fallout, or maybe (god forbid) I will become immune to the powers of a hershey bar chased by a Pepsi. You would think that the doctors would be concerned that I look like walking death and that I have to dispense a potentially lethal combo of drugs to such a little person, but they're not. They want more. More therapy, more medication, more research. Tyson's school wants more, be a parent helper, mandatory volunteer hours. Major League Baseball wants me to bleed for them. The fund is supposed to be private and anonymous. Not for me. I'm the damn poster child. be at the D'back's clubhouse at 7am on a sunday with 2 kids and full make-up...sure, why not? I'm going to do it again on Monday with the Rockies and hope to God that more of them remember me as Charlie's wife and not as the queen of the Orange Shorts (like some of the D'backs). It will be fine. But my husband will call and complain that he is so tired, his life is hard, that leaning in center field on a Fungo is sooooo hard. He leaves in a week from Port Charlotte to Puerto Rico, on a private plane, to a 5 star hotel, to an island that treats him like he's the pope. My job will be to say "poor you, it is hard, I understand" because at the end of the day it'll be funny...i'll go to bed...my eyes will burn when I close them because they are so tired...I will be unable to sleep..Alex will cough and choke, and dump his own saliva into his lungs. Tyson will hear it and freak out and come to sleep with me, and the cat,the wonderful cannibalistic cat will decide that since there was movement someone better give her a treat or she will bite the crap out of you. Alex will calm down, Tyson will snore, I will lay down...until the alarm goes off at midnight and 2am and 4am for medication and the feeding pump or the next oximeter tests that the docs want. I'll get up and get Tyson ready for school and get thru the day, every day, and stare at the moms at school that are making lunch plans and going shopping...they will smile and tell Alex they are praying for him and then ask me why I didn't make it to Mass. They will offer to help, until I ask them to, then they will disappear, busy, out of town, or just avoid the subject. Tomorrow is ash wednesday (Tyson told me), so for Lent I am parking my invisible jet and taking off the stupid gold bracelets (but I'm keeping the lasso for my husband) and I am giving up Not Sleeping. I'm going to try and give up panic, and worry, and maybe a little shortness of temper (but not to much....i'm still me). Or maybe I'll give up the hershey bar chased by the pepsi (and switch to a kit Kat followed by a coke.)

BIG PIMPIN......

They gave us a Hummer.  Well, I guess that "give" is the wrong word...lent, made available, begged us one....those could be better terms.  As part of Charlie' s deal he gets a car for the season from whatever sponsor they have.  It was Saturn (which doesn't really exist anymore) now Hummer.  It's huge!  I drive a Volvo, a little one at that...teeny, tiny,good on gas, easy to park...so the Hummer...eh.....not so much.  So I had to dive around Durham in the BIG PIMPIN HUMMER.  I got lost alot.  Not only b/c I haven't driven on a real freeway in for-ev-er, but because there ae so many damn trees.  Really people, how can you see around all those damn trees.  It's North Carolina not Yosemite....anyhoo...after trying to figure out the navigation sysyem I quickly gave up and used the google maps on my phone.  Now I am not an idiot but I could not figure out how to make the "voice" work...it just kept playing the radio anf showing me where i had been, NOT where I was going.  Lame, lame, lame...but it had a sunroof and I figured I could just run over the trees if i needed too so it worked out.  But I'm jumping around so I'll start at the...

AIRPORT
Now I am a good flyer.  I plan.  I pack.  I have all the appropriate prescriptions and doctors notes to get Alex on the plane as well as all of his crap.  I have movies and DS games for Tyson.  But what I don't have is a sign that says "Yes, I look fine but I can't walk...please do not descriminate against me b/c I am not 90...I need help to the airplane".  I don't have a sign like that so I had to do the whole thing without any major muscle.  Tyson was awesome...carried his backpack, lunchbox, and my purse.  I had the carseat, which we had to use on the plane, diaper bag, tickets, and the amazing non walking, heavy as hell kid!  Once we got thru it it was cool.  Charlie picked us up at the airport along with his younger brother, wife, and my 2 nieces.  Some one must have warned my sister-in-law..she was actually pretty subdued (LOL).  Luckily for Charlie, they were there so he had help with my bags...I pack well...not light.  My niece on the other hand is the queen of pictures.  She took about a million in the airport, flashing the "deuces" with Tyson...can't wait till he explains that a peace sign isn't a peace sign anymore...it's deuces....to the nuns....grrrreat!

GAME
The next day was the game btwn the Bulls and the Rays.  Tyson went to the field in the morning with Charlie to play, and get autographs from the big-league guys...which he never did!  He sat in Charlie's office and played video games...nice.  That's why kids in the US are fat...their dads are professional athletes with access to everything and they STILL sit on their asses and play nintendo.  What a dork.  I love him but he'll be mad at himself later in life so whatever.  AND let me clarify that Tyson is not fat.  He is actually so damn thin that I am trying to convince him that candy and Hagen Das are food groups. So before the game, Alex got to go out on the field and walk around with Charlie and people were yelling "go Alex" and clapping...it was awesome.  Then he went with Charlie to get his ring. Does anyone else think it's wrong that my husband is wearing more diamonds than I am?  (and I'm not counting my earrings but even if I am he still has more)  Holy Moly!  Twinkle twinkle big ass ring!  He's actually wearing this one which is amazing.  He never wears the AL ring or the Biscuits ring.  I know he has others from when he was a player but he has given them away to his family but they'll come back to our house at some point.  Anyway...game...hot...long...walked up alot of stairs...and had to be nice to the "prayer people".  Now I'm not going to get into the whole God thing again...we all know my stance but the prayer list does seem a little weird to me, but again...just me.  So I spent a good amount of time listening to old people tell me that they had put him on this or that list.  Thank you very much for your prayers and thinking of us but now I'm going to have to move on so the next 80 bjillion people can tell me how he was on a list in Timbuktu.  BUT I did finally get to meet some Rays big-wigs that I have only spoken to on the phone.  They didn't look like I thought they would...for some reason Chaim was blonde in my head but he's not...again...not the point.   After we went to dinner at Chili's and I was STARVING!!!  Maybe I wouldn't have been sooooo hungry if we hadn't had to go back to the apartment and Skype with P.R.  I personally hate Skype...it looks grainy and I don't think it's a camera issue.  Everyone should just have a Mac so we can Ichat with whomever.  But we had to Skype with the PR family (took forever...really how long does an I love you, miss you and hope to see you in person soon take).  So FINALLY we went to eat....yummy!

AFTER
Basically after that I hung out.  Tyson went to the field every day with Charlie.  I went to Moe's with Nicole (and alot of times without Nicole) and went to lunch at Mellow Mushroom with the wives.  Let me say in defense of the "wives" we are not stupid, vapid, or gold diggers.  We are highly organized people who have to be wife, mother, accountant, moving man, tax doer, and ego soother all at the drop of the hat.  Ego soother would probably #1 on the list....baseball husbands can act a little like babies, especially if they are losing or not hitting.  So we went to lunch....6 of us...2 babies...1 set of twins...and Alex.  Now Alex, much to my surprise decided that on this occasion he would......wait for it.....EAT AN ENTIRE PIECE OF PIZZA!!!!  I know...I know...how did this come to pass?  Who knows!  But he ate it, took over an hour but he did AND he didn't choke or gag.  Right there made him braver than Tyson when it comes to new food.  I was very excited the entire time even though I was trying to be cool about the whole thing.

After that, we flew home the next day, almost missed our connection and thankfully was picked up by the amazing driver who carried my bags without giving me any lip.  Now I have to do it again this summer......

Baby Jesus of the closet.....copied from the original rant

Baby Jesus of the closet is a statue or at least he was. Since Alex has been sick, people have been sending us "relics" and other holy, but gross things. Personally, I find it a little freaky that there are little cards with itsy, bitsy pieces of bone or clothes from a saint who lived 500 years ago. It also freaks me out that people actually buy them. Now if you are my friend you know that YES, I believe in God, but I am not big on RELIGION. I find them to be 2 seperate issues. ANYWAY, a few months ago I received a box at the house for Alex. Inside was a statue of the Peurto Rican baby Jesus. Now if you have never seen that particular baby Jesus, i can only describe it as pastel but neon at the same time. He looks like a little girl, blonde, floating in a pink (pastel but neon) dress. Also let me mention that the statue was 2 1/2 feet tall. That's right people 30 gloriouse inches of Pink Plaster Jesus. So this particular statue did nothing to enhance the decore of my home and it was huge...so...I put him in the closet. I actually put him in Alex's closet because that was I could tell anyone who asked that yes it was in his room. Well, when I was hanging up clothes and putting away the tons of medical supplies in his closet Baby jesus of the closet had an accident. He fell off the top shelf where I , honestly, had stuffed him and his head....broke...off. It was a pretty clean break, I could have glued him back together, but, alas, I did not. i took advantage of this accident and chucked baby Jesus of the Closet out in the trash so he became Baby Jesus of the land fill. Then my mother in law came to visit. She was not here for 10 minutes when she asked Charlie (not me b/c I don't speak spanish, but if I had known that half my family would speak spanish I would have taken the lessons instead of 800 years of french...moving on)) if we had received a statue of Jesus. She was sure that we had not received it because she knew that such a lovely statue would be proudly displayed in our Ethan Allen/Pottery Barn explosion of a home. Of course Charlie asked me and I said that Jesus had broken, that his head had come off. Now out of the corner of my eye I see Tyson, who feels like he is smarter than us all about to add his 2 cents. So I, not wanting to admit that it was a clean break, say the Baby Jesus "SHATTERED" into 1 bjillion pieces! So I thought that was the end of him. But NOOOOOOO!! Baby Jesus of the closet is haunting me. We went to the Neuro Surg. about Alex's neck which is all messed up from pulling against the ventilator for 6 months, but earlier that day I had lunch with Regina and told her about Baby J in the C. We were laughing about his unfortunate ending and when I went to the surgeon what did he say? "Stretch his neck and do it 5-6 times a day" now if you read the earlier note then you know that Alex turns blue and screams bloody murder to the point that I have to get the oxygen out. But that's what I get for breaking off the neck of the baby jesus and lying about it. But now kharma has gotten me again. 1 week ago we got another box. inside was another statue....the Virgin Mary. BUT, this Mary has a special quality. When you walk around the room her eyes follow you and they are painted with the glowy stuff so when you turn out the lights.......they glow. Who the hell makes a glow-y eyed Virgin Mary??? Anyway, Mary is now the Virgin in the closet (mine not Alex's or Tyson's) because those eyes would scare the living shit out of Tyson in the dark. So now I know that every time Alex has a step back with his neck it's my punishment for breaking the head off of Baby jesus of the Closet. BUT, that does not mean that I want anyone to send me another one or any other relic...your thoughts are enough. OR you can send them to Charlie and I can laugh when he has to stuff them all in his suitcase at the end of the season!