April 30, 2008

orange you cute

Current balance for broken arm: $1,168.00.* Not including co-pays, or the ER bill, which we haven’t seen yet. Or all those OTHER doctor visits this month. Or the antibiotics or Henry’s meds, which cost TWICE as much now that we’re having them compounded. Or all the wine I’ve drunk since this started.

On the upside, this may be the LAST cast.  We go back in two weeks and the doctor is pretty optimistic that the arm will be completely healed.  And until then, he won’t get run over in the parking lot because you can see that orange cast about three blocks away.

*Before insurance. Thank GOD for insurance.

April 29, 2008

things that are weighing on my mind

1. My hair is a disaster. I had it cut two weeks ago, and it’s already a mess. Also it is longer on one side than on the other, which makes me crazy. I think I need to change stylists, AGAIN, which REALLY makes me crazy.

2. On Sunday, we put mulch in the flower beds, over the flowers we planted on Saturday. I wound up with a wee sliver of redwood mulch in my finger, which REALLY hurt. Today it worked its way out and now my finger is fine. The human body is an amazing thing, you know.

3. Charlie has had at least one gigantic sobbing meltdown every day for nearly a week. I think he’s had it with the broken arm and the strep and the itching and the medicine and the missing school. And while I wish he would stop crying about his PANTS already, I feel for him; I would like to lie down and cry about my hair, for example (see #1).

4. My birthday weekend was lovely, clouded only by intermittent moments of badly behaved children, which is pretty much the norm around here.  But the entire quart of Thai peanut chicken salad that I ate made it all better.

5. I’m getting a new camera! Probably a Cannon Rebel, unless anyone has any other suggestions.  It needs to be very VERY simple to use and VERY easy to carry, because I am a delicate flower with a short attention span.  And a limited budget.  Just so you know.

And if you have any ideas about my hair, I would love to hear those, too.

Today is Tuesday, which means that while I was worrying about my hair and marvelling at the fact that my body PUSHED OUT A WOOD CHIP, I was also writing about other things, like what to wear to a new job and why the white handbag is the Perfect Bag for Summer. Go, read! You might learn something.

April 25, 2008

he got me a lifetime supply of Tylenol

Me: I have the WORST headache today.  Seriously.

Him: Oh, didn’t anyone tell you?  After 40, it’s just ONE BIG HEADACHE.  Welcome to the rest of your life.

Me: Great.  Just GREAT.

April 24, 2008

four-OH!

Today is my birthday; I am 40. I could wax eloquent about all the things I expected to do before I was 40 or all the things I hope to do now that I am 40, but instead I will tell you about my day, because you will NEVER BELIEVE THIS.

My birthday went like this: get up, get dressed (in an actual DRESS even because I was going to have lunch with my husband and then go to the Apple store to replace my iBook’s power cord and perhaps also stop at J. Crew because IT IS MY BIRTHDAY), get kids up, get kids dressed, take kids to school. Come home, eat cereal, read New York Times, get ready to talk with magazine editor about writing for magazine. Call editor, leave message, think about starting to clean up house.

And then the school calls because Henry has an ear infection and has cried the ENTIRE WAY through Mass. Woo!

I spent the rest of the day with a kid who alternately felt FINE and wanted to tell me IN GREAT DETAIL about an episode of SpongeBob he watched TWO WEEKS AGO when Charlie was forbidden to move and was watching TV for twelve consecutive hours each day and then felt HORRIBLE and cried and sobbed and wailed and moaned and clung to me with all his strength and power and 63 pounds of heft.

All this was all before lunch, which clearly I was NOT going to spend in a grown-up restaurant with my husband. Instead we took Henry (who was feeling pretty good at that particular moment) to HIS favorite restaurant, a local sandwich place that I have decided I am OVER. And we had a lovely lunch even though I am OVER Gourmet Deli. Sorry.

After lunch, Henry spent what seemed like a hundred hours but was probably only one sobbing and crying and insisting that I FIX HIS EAR RIGHT NOW. And then he was fine again and we picked Charlie up and they talked about their days and then we got to the doctor and he sobbed in the waiting room and then we went into the examining room and he was polite and cooperative and then we left to drive through at the pharmacy and he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed and insisted that the people in front of us FINISH ALREADY AND GET OUT OF THE WAY because his EAR HURT WHY DIDN’T ANYONE CARE THAT HIS EAR HURT AND WHY WEREN’T WE GETTING THE MEDICINE AND HIS EAR HURT DID I HEAR HIM ABOUT HIS EAR WHY AREN’T WE GOING HOME YET OWOWOWOW ITHURTSITHURTSITHURTS MAKEITSTOPNOW!!!

I’m guessing that I must have passed out about then because I have no idea what was next.

So far, being 40 feels just like being 39 and 30 and 25, except for the part about the screaming kid, which I would never have seen coming a decade ago (or really even yesterday because who knew he had an ear infection?!? not me, clearly). Apparently 40 is the new 30, whatever that means, although I think really it just means that a whole group of us is getting old and trying desperately to turn old into cool which just seems kind of lame to me.

And that is what I have learned at 40: trying to be cool is lame. Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen! Apparently I my work here is done.

April 23, 2008

time out

I’ve been having a hard time recently organizing my day; I sit down to work when I get back from dropping the kids at school and the VERY NEXT THING I KNOW it’s 1:30 and I’ve read every word of the Daily Mail but I’m still not finished with whatever it was I set out to do.  Also I haven’t loaded the dishwasher or started any laundry or eaten any lunch.

I hate that. Especially the part about lunch.

Yesterday I was talking to some friends about this, about how we have all this TIME while the kids are at school, endless time, in theory, but we’re still scrambling around to get things done and working nights and weekends to keep up. And I said, all flippantly, that sometimes I think I need to start setting a timer, like I do for the kids, and using it to keep me on track.

And my friend said, “That’s a really good idea.” And I thought, wow she’s right that IS a good idea.  I should try that!

No wonder I can’t get anything done; I’m to much of an idiot to make a decision.

Today I used the timer while I was working. I set it for thirty minutes, and used that time to deal with my email and read the New York Times (only the style section OF COURSE) and then I set it for an hour and worked on one project, and then set it for another hour and worked on a different project. When it went off, I stopped whatever I was doing and went on to the next thing.

And dammit if I didn’t have a more productive day.

I had been blaming my inability to get stuff done on my uber flexible schedule (”flexible” by the way is just another word for “working ALL THE DAMN TIME because the Internet never closes or takes days off and without the bloggers there is NO CONTENT and advertisers don’t like it when there is NO CONTENT”). It turns out my SCHEDULE isn’t the issue; the real problem is that I have the organizational skills of a first grader (with ADHD) and I need a lot of external structure to actually FINISH anything.

Good to know!

Tomorrow I have to do things that involve leaving the house; do you think it will be weird if I have my egg timer with me?  If you’re in the Apple Store at lunch time and you hear a DING, look for me — I will be trying to replace my iBook power cord in under thirty minutes.

April 21, 2008

it snot you

Charlie is feeling JUST FINE today, thank you, or fine enough to spend every single moment of the day in which I have not been doing something specifically for him stalking me around the house asking me to DO SOMETHING FOR HIM.

In other words, fine enough to go back to school tomorrow! Woo!

He has a new cast, a blue one, but there are no photos because now we’re out of the oh-my-god-we-broke-the-baby phase and into the phase where we start to wonder if we will ACTUALLY be paying off the doctor’s Porsche out of our own pockets (I do not know for a fact that this doctor drives a Porsche; he’s a terrific doctor and certainly deserves one, and will probably be able to afford it by the time Charlie’s arm is all healed, at the rate we’re going). The arm looks good, though, and we’re no longer worried about how he will play t-ball with only one limb.

Although of course he’s not playing t-ball because I would sooner go hunting with Dick Cheney than have to sit through t-ball season. But you know what I mean.

Charlie also appears to have made a COMPLETE recovery from the whole strep infection, which is good since he hates the medicine and will have to take it for EIGHT MORE DAYS. And there’s nothing I love more than starting the day with a kid who spends FOURTEEN MINUTES sitting at the table whining about the medicine, and then shoots it down in one gulp and announces, “That wasn’t too bad!” Every day for TEN DAYS.

Henry has either the Worst Allergies Ever or a Truly Badass Head Cold; either way, every time he blows his nose, he fills the tissue with what very well may be portions of his brain. Then he leaves the tissues willy-nilly all over the house, or, if he’s feeling particularly helpful, hands them to me and says, “Will you put this in the trash for me?”

Yes, because one of my greatest joys as your mother is to TOUCH YOUR SNOT.

Charlie is currently arguing with Wade about how many pillows he needs in his bed and what exact pillow CASES they need to have on them, and I am counting the SECONDS until EVERY SINGLE PERSON in this house leaves me all alone, for at least seven hours because I just had the SAME discussion with Charlie, TWICE and I am all done being the mommy now.

Although as soon as they all leave, I will come down with The Strep.  Mark my words.