Seeing Red

This is the fourth year for these dressses (although the size four did have to be retired this year). If the little girls continue on their slow growth arc, who knows, dare I hope for one more holiday out of them? I bought these red dresses from Lands End, on sale, big discount, I felt like a winner, for Christmas 2005, pre-Nora, but soon to have Nora, and only Ellie has out grown the dresses and the whole concept of wearing matching outfits with her sisters, actually.

Sometimes I feel sorry for the folks who get our hand-me-downs, who needs three or four of everything, often the same size? But hey, I didn't plan to have triplets, it just kind of happened that way because that's the magic of building your family through interational adoption. I look at other families with stair step children, not lots kids all bunched at the same height and weight, and I think hmmm, that's odd, how did they pull that off?

And I thought it was the last year for all my kids to believe in Santa, but a report from our friend who treated Ellie to a viewing of the tween sensation "Twilight" this afternoon, thanks Lisa on so many levels, most of all that I didn't have to watch it, makes me think that maybe Ellie, 12, still believes, or wants to believe, but I don't dare ask her directly because then she may ask me some hard questions that I don't want to answer yet. Yes, that's me, the textbook example of open communication with your children about the hard facts of life.

But if he does exist, I'd like to give him a piece of my mind, stupid old fart, he has no self-discipline, he brought way too much crap again this year after I specifically instructed him to hold back, but nooo, does he listen to me? Stupid old fart gets all the glory and I get stuck with cleaning up all the mess. As Nora would say, not fayoh.

Good Night Nurse, She Moved to China

While I'm playing hookie from work today, I thought I would share my amazement and admiration for an e-friend who up and moved her family to China this month to become a house manager for a foster group home for Chinese orphans (one of three supported by this charity). I don't know all the details, here's link to the COAT website for more more background information about the charity and its good works in Jiao Zuo, He Nan Province.

My friend's name is Donna, and after much planning and packing, she took her three youngest kids with her to set up housekeeping on the sixth floor of the building that houses one of the foster homes COAT calls Eagles Wings II. I know I tend to the hyperbolic, but good hell, I can't even begin to imagine the preparation and courage needed to turn the life you've built on it's ear and pack it up and try something so different and so generous for five months. Five months is her commitment for now, due to other big events back here in the states she must attend, but I guess she can cross that bridge when she comes to it. For selfish reasons, I want her to still be in China when we make our trip next summer just because I think that would be so stinking cool.

Here's her blog link The Lauries Go To China, and I've added it to the side bar for future reference, because I don't know about you, but I'm hanging on every word.

My Best Christmas Gift Ever

And to think I almost didn't get that prescription filled yesterday afternoon because I was doing so well with ibuprofen, what a dummy. So, I haven't been acting responsibly re: my cracked tooth, #19 to be exact, left lower jaw. A chunk fell out a few months ago. I just got used to the jagged edge because I was in big time denial about the necessity to DO something about it other than put my tongue in the hole every waking minute. But, of course, I knew, in my best most grown-up brain, that I couldn't neglect it forever, but the last time I had a crown put in, I agreed to have the permanent tooth glued onto the pretty and attractive stub of the old tooth (is that the creepiest thing in the world?) without novocaine, to avoid the numb slobber mouth effect, and when the glue hit the exposed nerves in the dentin, well, I passed out. I was crying, I had the dentist crying, it was very very unpleasant.

So, with that memory hovering in the back of my nervous system, it was easy to tune out the voice of responsibility that kept nagging at me and saying: geez woman, get into the dentist before it gets bad and becomes an emergency and there you are, in throbbing pain over the Christmas holidays and no way to do anything about it except indulge in buckets of self-recrimination. So, I finally listened to the voice of my better self and the dentist was able to fit me in yesterday afternoon to take a look at the crater I've been neglecting. He didn't want to mess with it, said he'd be "cranking" on my tooth for hours and an endodontist would be in. out. zip. zip. zip in an hour. More expensive (me = self-employed = no dental insurance), but less time in the chair vs. more dollars, no contest. So I walked out of the dentist's office with a referral and two prescriptions: penicillin and Lortab. My very first thought, oh heck, I don't need pain pills, I've been getting along with this pulsing penumbra of pain for many weeks, I don't need any stinking pain pills. But for the bargain price of $5.98, what the heck Mr. Pharmacist, fill 'er up while I run next door to Big Lots and do some last minute panic shopping for stocking stuffers. Two birds, one stone, love it when that happens.

I took two of the penicillin tabs the minute I got home, where good friend Marque was watching all our kids to cover my late arrival home, we ate take and bake pizza, drank a glass of wine, and glory glory, no pain, the penicillin was kicking some cracked tooth butt, or so I thought. I was so happy. Until 12:18 am when the pain woke me up like a lightening strike and I wanted to pull my own tooth out of my head with beading pliers. It took a few minutes, but I rememberd the Lortab and convinced myself that it was worth it to stand up and drag my butt into the kitchen several throbbing steps away.

I've never needed pain pills in my adult life, no surgery, no accidents, very lucky woman, so who knew, who knew?? One small medical marvel later, and sweet bliss, the pain went away. I slept well for the first time in weeks. To hell with my freakishly high pain tolerance, I don't need it anymore, someone has invented a reason not to just grin and bear it. What a gift, what a wonderful Christmas miracle. I'm a little vulnerable right now, what with the throbbing pain on and off and sleep deprivation, so in this weakened state, it might be possible to convince me of the existence of a higher being. Of course, not in the biblical sense, more like a benign and kindly chemist or pharmaceutical researcher in a white lab coat and half-moon spectacles pushed up on his balding forehead, smiling sweetly with a prescription bottle in his out-stretched hand. Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, to mix a few metaphors, because I got my gift two days early this year and there you have it, proof positive. Of course, next week, root canal, but until then, I have a way to deal with the Fred Flintsone (remember when Barney would smack Fred's toe and it would pulse big, little, big, little?) effect going on in my head. Who knew? Life is good.

My Little Buddy, reprise

Remember my Little Buddy? Well, we were intimate with each other several times yesterday. One time right on the 400 block of Main Street, right out there in the open, ooh la la, and we even had a three-way in the parking garage behind 404 South Main, racy stuff. I love my Little Buddy and I’m not too proud to show it, although I think the Honda van is jealous because it started screaming at me when I was preparing for our last episode of togetherness as I was leaving work yesterday evening. I still love the Honda van, but not like I love my Little Buddy.

So yeah, this time it was the dome light over Nora’s seat after getting home late on Saturday evening and not moving the car until Monday morning. I know, I know, you would think I would have taken the advice of the Sisterhood of the Honda Odyssey, but that button on the dash the disables the lights? I don’t like it. I don’t like entering and exiting a dark car, and since it feels like it gets dark shortly after 1:00 pm around these parts, the lights stay on, dammit, becuase, after all, I have a Little Buddy. The funny thing, I was aware of that button, but did not reach any independent opinion about its purpose, so I just ignored it for four years. That’s called not thinking outside the boxy van.

But, I am educable in other ways. I did remember to throw Little Buddy in the back of the van as I left the house because I knew I wasn’t driving far enough to recharge the battery. The thought that didn’t cross my mind? Little Buddy in the back cargo area is hard to get to when the electronic hatch won’t open because the battery is as dead as the doornails. Hope no one had their video going to catch my middle-aged contortionism as I crawled back through the van to get my hands on my Little Buddy.

And the three-way? Well, after my creditors’ meeting in 405 South Main, I FINALLY, and I do intend the caps, because good hell, the cobbler’s children have no shoes, dropped off the readoption petitions for YuYu and Nora (makes the state produce Utah delayed birth certificates) at the state courthouse that is through the block to the East of 405 South Main. And I was walking past the parking garage to get to the courthouse, I looked up to see a couple with the hood up on their car on the first level (open grill work on the garage so you can see, no solid walls) and I asked gallantly: “Hey, battery trouble?” And guess what, yes, battery trouble and my Little Buddy saved their bacon too. My Little Buddy, my hero. Talk about serendipity.

But on the final jump last night, something something, Owner’s Manual something something, after opening the door with a key, something something, alarm will sound, something something, hook up Little Buddy, horn BLARING in my face with hood lid up and head buried by battery, oh good hell, I jumped out of my skin. Honda van, you have no right to act jealously. My relationship with Little Buddy has grown and deepened because of your own weaknesses. Stop crapping out on me and maybe we can try again.

In the meantime, Little Buddy goes everywhere we go, do you hear that? Everywhere. Get used to the idea.