tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-111520032012-01-02T08:59:59.939-05:00Every word is nonsense, but I understand.Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.comBlogger1761100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-2166463509103393352012-01-01T01:14:00.003-05:002012-01-01T01:26:53.199-05:00

Ten years. Ten yeaaaarrrrrs.You'd think I'd be over it after 10 years. But I'm not. I'm so not.I just spent a good hour re-reading a bunch of my content, and you know what? I'm a pretty damn good writer. It doesn't matter, though, cause A) that's my own opinion, and B) I'm too damn lazy to make anything come of it. Yes, my lawyers called me "prolific" and I'm a miraculously fast typist, but still

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-31132655516891973852008-05-10T05:29:00.006-04:002008-05-10T07:10:36.363-04:00

It's 5:30 in the morning on a Saturday, and I've been up for three hours. I've got the stench of stale puke somewhere in my bedroom, but I can't quite pinpoint what it's coming from. In six hours, I'll be attending a birthday party at Suck-E-Cheese with 200 screaming children. I'd try to go back to sleep, but I've got to run to the grocery store before the party to pick up (more!) Pedialyte, some

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-21785712453471194642008-02-26T23:44:00.001-05:002008-02-27T01:08:04.386-05:00

I'm going to try to keep this short.No. Seriously. Stop laughing.If I don't keep this short, it will never get posted. It will die a thousand deaths like the dozens of entries I've started and stopped over the past few months because I either 1) lost interest, or 2) fell asleep, or 3) I got... wait - What was that noise? Wait, let me just...Okay, what was I saying again?Right. Keeping it

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-12327127982710673612007-10-25T07:50:00.000-04:002007-10-25T08:12:31.198-04:00

Do not make me a martyr for parenting my son. Believe me, I'm no martyr.Do ask intelligent, compassionate questions if you want to. I'm happy to explain about his different disorders, if only to educate that they are nothing to be afraid of.Do not ask me questions driven by your curiosity of the strange and different. My son is not here for your entertainment. This is no freak show.Do not try to

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-26660377265420852352007-10-12T06:32:00.000-04:002007-10-12T07:39:56.775-04:00

I'm really lucky (knock on wood) that Ethan hasn't been sent home with fundraisers for school yet. I remember with disdain my own school days, begging people to buy something from me so I could win that new! bike! Every year, they'd hype us up with fancy talk and shiny prize photos. Even though I only ever sold to my mom and grandmother, I was sure this time, I'd win something great instead of

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-31861114829985287342007-10-05T22:20:00.000-04:002007-10-09T00:04:58.147-04:00

Because you can't get enough - More scattered thoughts separated by breaks!New! and! improved!***I started a real entry last week, but I never finished it. I actually fell asleep while writing it. That's just how things are right now. With a new baby, it's every (wo)man for herself, so sleep when you can. (Except now, of course. Genius that I am.)Things have been hectic, but I'm holding my own so

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-72839752231186099202007-09-11T00:20:00.000-04:002008-02-27T01:08:23.976-05:00

Jacqui of Terrible Palsy is taking a break from blogging. I can't blame her. I've been there recently, and will be again, I'm sure. Life is not the Internet, and the Internet is not Life. If you ever begin to doubt that, it's time to pull the plug. (On the computer, that is.)Her reason for taking a break touches on feelings I've had as well. If you haven't read her latest post, please do. I

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-6057877356687208032007-09-09T00:57:00.000-04:002007-09-09T02:05:00.229-04:00

It is officially Sunday, which means I have less than 24 hours until my date of return to work. How can I leave this teeny-tiny baby already? It just reminds me how inadequate maternity leave allowances are in this country. I'm fortunate to work for a generous company that actually pays for six ("natural" delivery) to eight (c-section - "unnatural"?) weeks of maternity leave. I got eight for my

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-72174592275858777472007-09-04T01:34:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:00:14.438-05:00

How can nearly three months have passed since my last post?How is it September already?How do I have only one week - correction, 6 days - left to my maternity leave?How can Ethan be starting big-boy-all-grown-up Kindergarten in only one week - correction, 6 days?How can CG have outgrown all of his "T" clothes (2T, 3T, 4T) so quickly and moved on to sizes with no letters?How can Jete's

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-2550413980996434852007-06-12T08:27:00.000-04:002007-09-05T00:08:05.050-04:00

Hello out there.I'm still alive. You might have noticed it during my sporadic commenting on your sites now and then. Occasionally I've been moved enough to comment on someone else's thoughts - but I just haven't mustered up the energy to compile my own thoughts in any coherent matter.This pregnancy has been rough, in more emotional ways than physical I suppose. I never believed or experienced so

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-69525228813623322762007-02-21T23:32:00.000-05:002007-02-21T23:39:57.752-05:00

You know how things are with old classmates, or former co-workers?At one time you were close, forced together in a daily routine that kept your orbits circling round each other. You knew what they ate for lunch on Tuesdays, what their favorite kind of music was, and how they always got annoyed by calls from their mother. If they changed up their routine with a new haircut or sweater, you knew the

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-13777162177888209942007-01-10T23:29:00.000-05:002007-10-12T07:36:50.386-04:00

Even gray comes in different colors.I haven't been able to get Ashley's story out of my head since I first heard about it last week. I keep mulling it over, thinking and rethinking it, wondering what I would have done in the same situation. Because of course, even though my son is similar to Ashley, I'm not in the same situation. No one is. Just as no other parent is facing exactly what we are

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-67334255097979366272007-01-04T20:48:00.000-05:002007-10-12T07:36:50.387-04:00

I don't know how I feel about this. (More info here.) I really don't.You'd think there would be a simple response. "It's wrong!" "It's right!" But it is not that simple. Nothing about this kind of life is simple.There are those that say it's ethically questionable. I can totally see that. Putting a child through unnecessary surgery? Messing with a body's right to grow up? Forcing them to be a "

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-70043190782882428942006-12-31T23:32:00.000-05:002007-01-01T21:52:38.285-05:00

Updated to add: I'm starting to feel a bit guilty. So, lest anyone accuse me of worrying them needlessly, or worse, using scare tactics simply for the ratings (ha ha), let me say now: Fear not. Everything turns out okay by the end of this post. Unfortunately, Life doesn't give the benefit of a "skip to the end of the story" to see whether or not it has a happy ending. Hence, the scary week I

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-84487138217290082352006-12-16T08:27:00.000-05:002006-12-16T09:03:15.091-05:00

I lifted my head off the ultrasound table and turned to Jete."Well. It isn't dead yet. That's something."He smirked. "You optimist, you." We both laughed.Dr. I. came back into the room with the tissues he'd been searching for. "Hey. No laughing in here.""Sorry," I said, as I wiped the goo from my stomach. "I'm telling bad jokes."Jete stood up with my coat. "Dark humor."I mentioned the joke again

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-76984020984242721942006-11-29T08:27:00.000-05:002006-11-29T08:49:40.263-05:00

First: Ethan is fine. That boy is a wonder. He sails through surgeries and medical procedures and keeps on smiling. He frequently inspires me to stop being so damn whiny and mopey. But he isn't ready for his canonization yet as far as I can tell, because he's nowhere close to completing that miracle.But, yes. He's doing well. Thank you for asking.Oddly enough, the worst part of the whole surgery

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1163394083486688432006-11-12T23:37:00.000-05:002006-11-13T00:03:07.770-05:00

This may come as a bit of a surprise. But... did any of you know - it's the MIDDLE OF NOVEMBER?I'm not joking. I sweartogod.The past two weeks have gone by in a blur of business and busy-ness. I started a long and rambling Halloween post (shocking, I know) but when I actually had the time to sit and write, Blogger was giving me heaps of trouble. By the time it seemed fixed, I was back in busy

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1161229904128964652006-10-24T22:24:00.000-04:002006-10-24T22:37:14.750-04:00

Today marks a milestone. I've been holding my breath for eight weeks now, waiting for today to come.Since I left the hospital eight weeks ago today, I had this date in the back of my mind. As I gathered my things to go, I asked the nurse what to expect next. "They're sending the material away for a genetic workup. It should take 6-8 weeks for the results to to come in. If you haven't heard

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1161305989555149152006-10-19T23:56:00.000-04:002006-11-25T14:00:37.653-05:00

Growing up, I didn't like autumn. What good is it to a child? Autumn signifies the end of summer. The end of freedom. The end of warm days playing outside until dark. The beginning of school. The beginning of homework. The beginning of responsibility.Did I say "I didn't like autumn"? Correction: I hated it.I finally grew up, got out of school and learned to appreciate the fall. Autumn in New

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1159931862427253842006-10-03T22:57:00.000-04:002006-11-25T14:01:51.909-05:00

Me: Oh, crap.Coworker: What?M: They've discontinued my insurance.C: Huh?M: It's that time of year again, and they sent out a preview of the changes. They've decided to drop the health insurance plan I use.C: Oh.M: I only switched here because I wanted that insurance; the constant run-around got old. Guess we're going back to Jete's insurance (even though we never cancelled it in the first place,

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1159582005151102862006-09-29T21:59:00.000-04:002006-09-29T22:06:45.176-04:00

So I'm totally fine. I'm good, actually. I'm enjoying a Friday evening after what seemed to have been one of the longest weeks this year.And then I see this.And I'm crying again, and thinking of all we lost. And thinking, she totally deserves that, they all do. But so do we. Don't we? And we haven't just lost it once, we've lost it three times now. We lost that first year that Ethan should have

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1159500758289013702006-09-28T23:41:00.000-04:002006-11-25T14:05:15.225-05:00

I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but I don't travel on airplanes. Ever.Some people think I'm crazy, or missing out on some part of life that I'm supposed to desire, but it doesn't bother me in the slightest. I have zero interest in travel, and never have the vacation time to waste anyway.Basically, I'm terrified of flying. I suppose "phobic" is the proper word. I have nightmares

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1158382145058632042006-09-19T21:59:00.000-04:002006-11-25T13:57:40.178-05:00

I have a tendency to associate odd songs with people or moments in my life. Case in point: Ethan's theme song. Forever I will think of his strength when I hear that song, even if it was written with another meaning in mind.Someday I'll flySomeday I'll soarSomeday I'll be so damn much moreCause I'm bigger than my body gives me credit forAt the same time, Evanescence's My Immortal also reminds me

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1158380362756176762006-09-15T23:54:00.000-04:002006-09-16T00:26:36.443-04:00

Things People Said When We Announced We Were Expecting:"Better you than me.""Where are you going to put it?""Aren't your hands full enough?""I'd kill myself."Other Things People Said When We Announced We Were Expecting: "Congratulations!""That's so exciting.""Good for you."---Things People Said When They Found Out I Had a Miscarriage:"Was it a planned pregnancy?""Sometimes, the father secretly

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1157429276521667032006-09-08T22:33:00.000-04:002006-09-08T22:47:26.583-04:00

The Short VersionWhat I Did On My Summer VacationRe-learned the joy of good chicken curry.Prepared for Ethan's surgery.Watched The Polar Express and Toy Story a combined total of 14 million times, therefore cementing my love of Tom Hanks.Went to over 20 doctors' appointments.Added a few new sites to my regular blog reads. Researched the world of handicap vehicles.Took CG on a trip to Mystic,

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1156953543966987952006-08-30T11:52:00.000-04:002006-08-30T11:59:03.986-04:00

Ethan's surgery went great. He slept before and after, completely worry free. He took pain meds for a single day (one! day!) and has been fine ever since. He is seriously my hero.My surgery was yesterday. I was a wreck before, relieved after, and feel like I got hit by a truck. Every muscle in my body is sore from the stress of this past week. I did my best to be a bit more like Ethan, but really

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1156478705044378162006-08-24T23:53:00.000-04:002006-08-25T00:08:55.496-04:00

An excerpt from a conversation on Tuesday:Dr. I: ... And don't think this is God's fault. God is not punishing you by doing this.Me: Please. I don't believe in that stuff. Besides, if God wanted to punish me, I think he did a pretty good job with my first son. This? is overkill. I haven't been that bad.I'll explain everything. As soon as I can.Ethan's surgery is tomorrow. Suddenly, it's the last

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1155009707485156112006-08-07T22:25:00.000-04:002006-08-17T11:14:05.483-04:00

I took CG to the mall yesterday for the first time.Let that sink in for a moment. I took my two-year-old to. the. MALL.Sete and T came along for added support. But believe it or not, three grown women are no match for a two-year-old who is trapped in a stroller and wants to Get Out. I made the trip through the entire upstairs level of the mall using bribery and trickery. "Have another soft

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1153591662708323132006-07-22T13:37:00.000-04:002006-11-25T14:03:46.615-05:00

Sete and T. decided to live on the edge and take CG to see his very first movie in a theaters today. Chances are, he won't sit through the first 10 minutes, but still. They're giving it a try.Sete called this morning to make sure I knew I was welcome to join them. She wasn't sure if I wanted to be there for this big event in his life. I immediately said, "No!", having entertained dreams about

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1152502105929653242006-07-09T23:25:00.000-04:002006-07-09T23:36:25.743-04:00

How can all that anger come out of something that cute?Sweet dreams, CG. I know. It's tough being two.(I can hardly wait for the teenage years.)

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1152494312654943542006-07-09T21:28:00.000-04:002006-07-09T23:11:59.980-04:00

Two. And. A. Half. HOURS.CG has been crying for two and a half hours. Sometime this evening he didn't get his way, for one reason or another. He wanted to watch a movie. Or throw his toys. Or some other ridiculous thing. I said no. He threw a tantrum. As I carried him to the time out chair - AGAIN - he got really mad. He kicked and writhed in his usual way.And then, he bit me. Into his crib he

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1151462812021710562006-06-27T22:31:00.000-04:002007-04-29T14:37:26.661-04:00

I got my hair cut yesterday. This was the first time I'd done any official grooming in almost six months, and it was long overdue. I was beginning to be crushed by the emotional weight of my unruly hair.My cousin, Dee, is my hairdresser. Unfortunately, she only works part-time at a salon, and our hours never seem to mesh. Every few months I go through a phase where I call her, begging for a few

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1150731277587816332006-06-19T11:55:00.000-04:002006-06-19T11:59:31.716-04:00

Finally, someone out there gets it.To think, one day we might not have to recount Ethan's entire medical history to every medical professional we encounter - from the ultrasound tech to the numerous specialists we see. They would actually be prepared and informed ahead of time. It's an idea that's almost too good to be true.Which is pretty sad, when you think about it.

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1149854288689932802006-06-12T23:12:00.000-04:002007-10-12T07:36:50.387-04:00

First, thank you all for your thoughts on my "kids like these" post. I really appreciate the different perspectives.Shortly after our appointment, I mentioned the experience to a friend. She has three kids and dozens of doctors in her mental rolodex. I thought she could recommend a local second opinion, or at least give me an idea about how to find a Boston one. She suggested I call Ethan's

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1149871538999718362006-06-09T22:52:00.000-04:002006-06-09T23:09:11.260-04:00

This was a good week. Among others:Cecily and Charlie had their baby - Tori Ann - after a long, difficult road. She's gorgeous.E found a dream of an apartment - just in the nick of time.Dream Mom celebrated the graduation of her Dear Son. This was especially triumphant after the medical scare he recently went through.M&Co's BoyChild reached a major milestone.With all the happiness out there, it's

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1149076441972836632006-06-02T17:51:00.000-04:002007-10-12T07:36:50.388-04:00

This week's episode in our Weekly Doctor Appointment series found us at our local pediatric surgeons' office. Part four of: "What To Do About Ethan's Missing Testicles".At our first visit, the surgeon had confirmed they were nonpalpable. He sent us for an ultrasound where they had further difficulty locating them. By the end of the 2 hour, 2 tech and 1 Senior Radiologist event, they were pretty

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1148295949504805672006-05-22T06:47:00.000-04:002006-05-22T07:05:49.553-04:00

... I enjoyed reading the Da Vinci Code two years ago.Furthermore, I found the movie entertaining. (What else were we going to see? Mission Impossible III?)Apparantly? The book sucks. I've long heard this many times (especially from a close friend who actually knows a thing or two about literature). Somehow, I missed that when I devoured it one afternoon.And clearly, I am in the minority as far

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1147900610149568492006-05-17T17:03:00.000-04:002006-05-17T17:16:50.170-04:00

As a small child, I saw a movie that affected me deeply. Even now, in my thirties, I continue to think of this film from time to time. I remember clearly how it made me feel when I saw it. It haunts me to some degree.For years, I remembered this film in snippets. I would flash back to images, feelings and ideas. The name of the film, the actors, the characters were all gone. I only remembered a

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1147483641386324452006-05-12T21:08:00.000-04:002006-05-12T21:27:21.413-04:00

How can the death of someone you only know through words on a computer screen make you cry?How can a love like this exist in the world, only to be cut so short?How can life be so unfair?How can I ever explain things like this to my children someday?More importantly, how can I know that I'll be around long enough to even try?How do any of us know we'll be around to see tomorrow?We don't. All we

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1146533500334094462006-05-01T20:52:00.000-04:002006-05-01T21:52:28.266-04:00

Today is Blogging Against Disablism day in the blog world. I'd like to participate, but, well. You know.Please visit Diary of a Goldfish for the full list of participating blogs. While I'm most drawn to the parenting stories, the writers examine prejudice against the disabled from all points of view.Here are a few highlights, courtesy of some old friends and some new:Bitch PhDDream MomEveryone

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1145967357910227582006-04-27T17:18:00.000-04:002006-04-27T17:23:11.633-04:00

Last Tuesday at work, one of our vendor applications died. It was my turn to play suck-up, so I called the vendor and explained our issues. My contact, who I'll call Dick, assured me that he would discuss this problem with his superiors and call me back the next day.Wednesday morning came and went. As did Wednesday afternoon. At 5:00, I started to think that Dick might just have forgotten about

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1144409207920009702006-04-07T07:24:00.000-04:002006-04-07T07:30:30.166-04:00

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1143695821397165982006-03-29T23:47:00.000-05:002006-03-30T00:21:04.376-05:00

I've never done a meme before. (Meem? Mem-may? Mee-mee?) I saw this one at Cecily's and at Frances', and I thought, eh, why not. Nothing proves what a boring goody-goody I am like a good survey.Feel free to laugh. All answers are true. Sadly, enough.***Have you ever...Taken a picture naked? Nope.Made out with a member of the same sex? Nope.Danced in front of your mirror? Yes.Told a lie? Yup.

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1143495485737449782006-03-27T17:04:00.000-05:002006-03-27T17:05:44.940-05:00

M: (through a stuffy nose) I feel just like Kramer in that Macanaw peach episode of Seinfeld.J: (puts down what he is reading) What episode?M: You know, the episode where Kramer loves those peaches, but can't taste them?J: (stares blankly at me)M: You remember! He raves and raves about eating these peaches. But then Jerry's apartment gets bug-bombed, and Kramer sits in there for a few hours, and

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1143344563468104142006-03-25T22:14:00.000-05:002006-11-25T14:16:56.912-05:00

Math-haters around the world are constantly asking the question, "When am I going to use this stuff in Real Life?"Today, I realized my calling. I am going to develop a program that proves once and for all that those years of math do come in handy. Especially when dealing with two-year-olds.Lessons will include:Conversions and Units of Measurement(1) 2 in² saltine cracker = 200 ft² of crumbs when

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1143223220373775832006-03-24T17:05:00.000-05:002006-03-24T21:31:17.453-05:00

As I was reading a recent entry over at the Small Bus, I couldn't help but think of that old matching game they used to do on Sesame Street. The song is now stuck in my head:One of these things is not like the others,One of these things just doesn't belong,Can you tell which thing is not like the othersBy the time I finish my song?I love E, and all of my friends, and I think they usually tolerate

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1142660083981219292006-03-18T00:10:00.000-05:002006-03-18T00:34:44.003-05:00

You may notice things look a little different around here.Remember the move I mentioned a while back? I'm still considering it. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find EVERYTHING I wanted in a new home for the price I'm willing to pay. (Which, in case you were wondering, is "free".)In the meantime, I continue to grow and change. Baby steps. Step #1: shed the name I'm so bored with. Nothing

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1142225000485401132006-03-12T23:47:00.000-05:002006-03-13T00:31:04.200-05:00

Thanks for your kind words about the dentist. I probably should consider switching at some point. The thing is, I've been going to this office since I was two. (That's 28 years for you math-haters.) That's a really long relationship, and I hate to end it so abruptly. I feel like we should get counseling first or something.I loved my original dentist. At some point, he got old and, well, died, but

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1141961592916095092006-03-09T22:32:00.000-05:002006-03-09T22:41:49.420-05:00

Arrive ten minutes late to dentist.Have receptionist announce, so that hygentist, dentist, waiting room folks and people across the street can hear: "YOU ARE LATE."Have receptionist tell hygentist, "This is Mete. SHE IS LATE. You don't have to take her at all if you don't want to. BECAUSE SHE'S LATE."Have hygentist decide to take you despite your loserness. Realize as you sit in the chair that

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1141926889641426692006-03-09T17:29:00.000-05:002006-03-09T17:42:38.976-05:00

Thanks for being so nice about my whining the other day. I hate to whine. Don't get me wrong. I'm good at it. But I don't feel like I have any right to complain. Especially lately, when other people have it so much worse than I do.It probably goes back to my childhood. Anytime you complained, my mother would name fourteen other people who had it worse than you did.Me: "I hate wearing Kmart

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1141753645412021802006-03-07T17:33:00.000-05:002006-03-08T09:51:08.793-05:00

This morning, I was driving through the Wealthy Suburb when I saw what looked like a Great Dane about 200 feet ahead of me. It was bounding across the road at a rapid pace. Behind it was another, then another. As I got a little closer, I realized they weren't dogs but deer. At least 10 in a row ran past me in a sprint for the woods on the other side of the street. I sat, stopped in the road

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1141361236337455302006-03-02T23:39:00.000-05:002006-03-03T00:41:56.853-05:00

So in case you haven't noticed, I haven't posted a lot about Ethan lately. A friend actually pointed this out. And yes, there is a reason. A very good reason, if you ask me: we've been having a strange string of good luck. And I don't want to jinx things.The last news I posted was about Ethan's kidney ultrasound. And yes, we had a novice tech who was D-U-M dumb, but it still went well. We got the

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1140008892900985502006-02-22T22:58:00.000-05:002006-02-23T00:06:15.273-05:00

We moved into our house five years ago. For five long years, we've been hiding a dirty little secret in the basement......boxes upon boxes of STUFF that we never unpacked.I know. I'm so ashamed.For the past few weeks we've been taking advantage of the boys' bedtime to go through these boxes and purge, big time. The next morning, Jete takes as much as he can to the Goodwill on his way to work.

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1139888521812071892006-02-13T22:38:00.000-05:002006-02-13T22:42:01.836-05:00

Dear Giant Fuel Company:I greatly appreciate the bill I received this month. It was very colorful!You might have noticed that I am currently almost two months behind in payments. Therefore, I think it was unwise to include SIX envelopes asking for donations for the Good Neighbor Energy Fund.While I'd love to help pay a stranger's heating bills, I should probably work on my own first. I'd kindly

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1139631199031183472006-02-12T23:29:00.000-05:002006-02-12T23:30:24.896-05:00

...I'm thinking of moving.It's not you. It's me. Really. There are things I want out of life that I'm just not getting here.Like the look around here, for one thing. So drab. So dreary. I'm just not loving it. I like that I can change things a bit, but it just isn't enough. I've literally tried on every outfit in this closet, and none of them look good on me.I've come to realize that I just need

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1139773986833879202006-02-12T14:52:00.000-05:002006-02-12T14:53:06.853-05:00

Someone found my blog yesterday by Googling "sexy chubby girl".I'm not sure yet if I should be insulted or flattered.

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1139634409795072142006-02-10T23:13:00.000-05:002006-02-12T14:54:19.900-05:00

Soooooo, the dreaded Valentine's day is coming up, or as E and I call it, VD day.Now some of you may be thinking, "But you have a partner. You should love Valentine's day!" But some of you? Would be wrong.As I think I've made abundantly clear, I love Love. I do. I love sappy movies. I sing along with every love song I can find on the radio. I cry every time I see that "Life" commercial from Chase

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1139316469511076702006-02-07T07:37:00.000-05:002006-02-07T08:22:07.796-05:00

Ethan had a routine kidney ultrasound yesterday. He has them every few months to make sure his Topamax isn't turning his kidneys into tiny bags of rocks.Good news: no kidney stones.Bad news: my faith in the medical field is at an all-time low.Ethan's ultrasound tech was a young Indian woman. I mention that she was Indian - not because her race has any relevance on her abilities -because she had a

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1138225551273573532006-01-27T17:23:00.000-05:002006-01-27T17:29:54.500-05:00

A few weeks ago, we attended the wedding we thought we'd never live to see. This was a much bigger deal than the last wedding we attended. Jete's aunt and her boyfriend decided to get married after twenty years of dating. She is the first of Clyde's siblings to get married in over thirty years. They're both in their early 40s and, until their wedding night, neither of them had ever moved out of

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1138083013358165982006-01-24T00:34:00.000-05:002006-01-24T01:16:42.136-05:00

In my mind, 2005 will forever be The Year of the Vinces. It was the year I found my two soulmates - Vince Vaughn and Vincent D'Onofrio.***My interest in VV was picqued by Old School, Dodgeball and some DEPRESSING movie I caught on network TV. But it was solidified when Jete and I saw Wedding Crashers. That was the first (and, so far, last) movie we saw together in the theaters after Ethan's

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1137851573209290372006-01-21T15:45:00.000-05:002006-01-21T19:15:20.113-05:00

Last weekend was our family's version of a long weekend. Jete and I had both Friday and Monday off. And Ethan had appointments on both days.Nothing says relaxation like going to see the doctor.***Friday was a trip back to Boston to see Dr. JJ and Dr. S., his physiatrist and orthopedic surgeon. These are trips we've been making every 3 to 6 months for the past two years. As we were driving home, I

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1136932339599234742006-01-10T23:13:00.000-05:002006-01-11T09:37:15.320-05:00

fifteen years ago today, I was listening to Blood Money on cassette while writing in my journal. I wrote about my day at high school. We had an hour delay because of an ice storm. I had an English midterm that I was sure I failed (I didn't). I was starting to like a boy named Joe, who didn't even know I existed.nine years ago today, I hung out with Jete until the wee hours of the morning. I was

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1136226799543719312006-01-02T13:20:00.000-05:002006-01-02T13:33:49.536-05:00

Why wait for Spring? After everyone had breakfast, I put Abbey Road on and danced around the living room with CG.In case you were wondering, there's nothing specifically Spring-y about that album. (Yes. I'm 90 and use words like ALBUM.) It just brings back memories of the Spring Jete and I spent in our first apartment.One gorgeous weekend, we decided to be really grown up and wash the windows (

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1136211250690802322006-01-02T08:35:00.000-05:002006-04-02T13:30:01.973-04:00

This past week, I enjoyed the following events:little-to-no time alone with JeteCG's now-famous temper tantrumshalf a dozen panic attacksan increase in Ethan's seizuresopening overdue billsscheduling more doctors appointmentsThe more things change, the more they stay the same.I'm not a "New Year's resolutions" kind of girl. I never announce to the general population: "I'm going on a diet!" or "

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1135742721116755142005-12-27T23:04:00.000-05:002005-12-27T23:06:37.480-05:00

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1135124264701141332005-12-20T19:12:00.000-05:002005-12-20T19:26:23.140-05:00

+

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1135025645502074882005-12-19T22:19:00.000-05:002005-12-19T22:20:29.380-05:00

In our attempt to qualify for aid from a state fund, we're required to present a letter from Ethan's doctor. A physican needs to explain his medical history, diagnosis, and any equipment needed. We asked Dr. AJ, Ethan's neurologist, to write it. Unlike some of his other specialists, he's local and has seen Ethan since birth.I got the letter today. Ethan has - count 'em - four diagnoses. Among

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1135022076541534412005-12-19T14:54:00.000-05:002005-12-19T15:54:10.476-05:00

I noticed a new bumper sticker on Jete's aunt's car this weekend. It read:I ♥ my German ShepherdI thought it was odd, since her dog is a Brittany Spaniel. They're huge dog lovers, so I figured she might have gotten a second dog.Then I got a little closer to the car, and noticed the drawing on the right hand side. It was the Pope.I'll be honest. It took me a minute, but I finally figured it out.

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1134013884887380172005-12-14T22:59:00.000-05:002005-12-14T23:02:04.716-05:00

The Queens of Surprise and I got a new teammate a couple of months ago. But not just any old teammate. This one? Is a MAN.As I may have mentioned before, I'm a feminist. I don't believe in any of that generalization crap that people - men and women - perpetuate, like "men make naturally better leaders than women" or "women are always catty to each other". I've worked with all kinds of men and

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1134580885707075832005-12-14T12:15:00.000-05:002005-12-14T12:23:34.153-05:00

Okay, I admit it. I'm a math-geek, and all-around, I'm a pretty techie girl. But ... I don't own a scanner. I know! I know! The thing is, I'm great with software, but horrible when it comes to hardware.Many thanks to T for stepping in and scanning Ethan's six-week picture so I could add it to the previous entry.Hell, I'll add again it here too. I may be biased, but I think it's worth another look

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1128133996623523102005-12-07T23:41:00.000-05:002005-12-14T12:15:12.653-05:00

Back by popular demand: Ethan's Story. If you need to refresh your memories about the first month of his life, you can reread Part 12 and all the stuff before that.Ethan was finally home from the NICU. Even though he was a month old, we hadn't felt like "real" parents until he was under our roof day and night.After returning dozens of phone calls, we settled in for our first night. We changed

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1133981036871472992005-12-07T12:47:00.000-05:002005-12-07T22:33:42.520-05:00

Hi. Yeah. I know what time it is. But it's lunchtime. I'm on a BREAK. Okay?(Which makes me want to quote Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing: "She's taking a break. She needs a break." And then the annoying hotel guy Neil says, "Just as long as it's not an all night break."What? You haven't memorized all of Dirty Dancing? Come on. "Nobody puts Baby in the corner." "I carried a watermelon." That's

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1133527565630683402005-12-02T07:58:00.000-05:002005-12-02T08:00:56.383-05:00

I don't understand how it can be December already.The last thing I remember, it was early spring and we were preparing for Ethan's surgery. Then there were four blurry months where he was casted and upset most of the time. Month after month of just trying to keep him happy, a few minutes at a time. How could four miserable months go by so quickly?I find it hard to believe the summer really

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1133326294695291472005-11-29T23:37:00.000-05:002005-11-29T23:51:34.716-05:00

I followed a link to a link to another link and wound up at this site. I can honestly say I learned something new today.It's weird, they vaguely remind me of something I've seen before.Guess thongs and bikinis will soon be replaced by these. I'm honestly not sure which is more revolting.

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1133287055192812732005-11-29T12:55:00.000-05:002005-11-29T12:57:35.226-05:00

I went to a meeting today. At the end of the meeting, they held a drawing for raffle prizes. Movie passes, sweatshirts, and water bottles.As it turns out, only 9 of us showed up. There were 8 raffle prizes. Guess whose name was the only one not picked?I didn't really need another cheap water bottle. But I had a serious case of "gym class" deja vu.***For the entire autumn, I was vigilant about

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1132209291986731302005-11-16T23:34:00.000-05:002005-11-17T01:39:33.360-05:00

Growing up, Sete, our cousin DJ and I were best friends. More like three sisters than cousins. As we got older, we went through spurts where we made Non-Family Friends and didn't hang out as much, but we always stayed close.A couple of years after high school, DJ started dating Jeremy. Jeremy was outgoing, goofy, and very down-to-earth. He endeared himself to my family about 3 minutes after they

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1131626709719564592005-11-15T00:37:00.000-05:002005-11-15T12:30:05.313-05:00

I've been lacking motivation in all areas of life lately. I've got dozens of prizewinning entries for you to read. Problem is, before you can read them I've got to find the time and energy to get them out of my head.In the meantime, a few updates of those things I've left hanging...***Ethan's Story - I've been trying to work on "Part 13" for quite a while now. Basically, ever since I wrote Part

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1131454024548467622005-11-08T07:42:00.000-05:002005-11-08T08:09:28.100-05:00

A coworker got engaged this past weekend. Her boyfriend took her out to a park on the water one of the most gorgeous days of the year. He started telling her how much he has loved her since they first met, then got down on one knee and proposed.Apparantly, he set up a secret dinner with her mother last week. He drove to her home and picked her up. He asked her permission over dinner and a

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1131242690495205712005-11-05T20:35:00.000-05:002005-11-05T21:09:31.146-05:00

I'm loving this warm weather we've been having. (I'd call it Indian summer, if I hadn't heard that it was a racist term. Although Wikipedia says it may have less evil roots.)Jete worked OT again today. I took the boys outside for a couple of hours for some fresh air. Of course, I had a completely selfish reason to do that - to wear them out. It seemed to work. Around 1:30, CG went down for his

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1130903082105785202005-11-01T22:44:00.000-05:002007-10-12T07:36:50.388-04:00

Recently, over at Darn Tootin, I put my two cents in on a discussion about the well-known "Holland" passage.(Well. I should clarify. Well-known to me. And maybe a bunch of parents who have special needs children. And some other folks too. But not well known to Jete. If you asked him about the "Holland" passage, he'd probably think it was like the Panama canal or something.)For Jete and any of you

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1130761583457540822005-10-31T07:18:00.000-05:002005-10-31T07:26:23.476-05:00

I headed to Old Navy late last week for a second look for the boys' costumes. I was excited to see that the Halloween stuff was on sale - half price. And, by some miracle, they still had the boys' sizes. Needless to say, my decision was made.Don't the boys look excited that I saved 10 dollars?I knew my procrastination would come in handy one of these days.

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1130623232745911782005-10-29T17:56:00.000-04:002005-10-29T18:00:32.766-04:00

My mind and my hair tie have a lot in common today. They are both one firm tug from snapping completely.

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1130413465047562432005-10-27T07:57:00.000-04:002005-10-27T07:59:32.510-04:00

your son's neurologist asks you how many seizures he's having daily, and you say "Uh, 20. 30. 50. Something like that."the neurologist instructs you to increase your son's $1500 a month drug until it is effectively doubled, and without blinking you say, "That's fine. When Cigna rejects the claim, I'll let the nurse know."upon opening an overdraft notice from your bank, you think, "Two days until

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1130154125574731442005-10-24T17:23:00.000-04:002005-10-24T17:29:19.176-04:00

Halloween is one of those holidays that just reinforces that things just aren't "Normal" in our house.I dressed Ethan up for first two Halloweens and took him to all of the grandparents' houses. He was dressed first as a cow and then as an elephant. Last year, the boys were dressed in matching frog costumes. Ethan was 2 and a half, and CG was about 6 months old. Two babies. One a little bigger

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1129824382292977662005-10-20T16:34:00.000-04:002005-10-20T16:33:25.496-04:00

'Freshman' year eliminatedThursday, October 20, 2005AMHERST - There are no freshmen at Amherst Regional High School.Ninth-grader is now the official term used for first-year students. Following in the steps of several area colleges, including Amherst, Smith in Northampton and Mount Holyoke in South Hadley, the school has dropped freshman from its vocabulary because of the male connotation of the

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1129566777631689732005-10-17T12:28:00.000-04:002005-10-17T12:32:57.640-04:00

I've reached a new high (or low?) with my dealings with Cigna. I called to ask another question, and ended up speaking to a customer service rep that I've already spoken to before - JANELLE. WOW.With the amount of people working there, you'd think that the odds of speaking to the same person twice are pretty high. Almost like hitting the lottery or something, right?Well. Without the money. And

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1129404284532594932005-10-15T15:21:00.000-04:002005-10-15T15:39:45.256-04:00

I really admire Stay at Home Moms. Not that they have a harder job than I do necessarily, but I have to believe they just do it so much better than I do.I'm home alone with the boys today, since Jete is working overtime (yay OT!). It is 3:21 PM and I've yet to:1. Brush my teeth2. Remove my hair from the matted ponytail I slept in3. Put on a bra (which, trust me, I could use)4. Change out of my

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1129380148453737332005-10-15T08:29:00.000-04:002005-10-15T08:42:28.463-04:00

Okay, I just had a flashback to a dream I had last night. I'm disturbed.I was a pilgrim, and my family and I lived in a small community with Native Americans. Everyone got along wonderfully. We had just finished a big party to celebrate ... something. We were all sitting around listening to the leaders of each group give a speech about unity and peace and love.All of a sudden, one of the teenage

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1129316502912869252005-10-14T15:39:00.000-04:002005-10-14T15:39:28.426-04:00

See. THIS is why I'm seriously torn between the two insurance choices.As part of the Catatstrophic Relief Fund paperwork, we have to come up with a letter proving that Ethan's hearing aids weren't covered when we purchased them last year. Of course, I don't have a letter. At the time, I just spoke to someone at Blue Cross who explained our benefits - hearing aids weren't covered.I was going to

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1129143415761192652005-10-14T07:45:00.000-04:002005-10-14T09:52:25.066-04:00

(See how nice I am. I drop off the face of the earth, then return only to moan about insurance again.)We've had health insurance through Jete's job since we got married. At one time, it was awesome insurance. So awesome, in fact, that sometimes I think it was only a dream or fairy tale. It made up for the fact that he makes so little money. Dirt cheap weekly premiums. And? The Happily Ever After?

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1128617149105799072005-10-06T12:45:00.000-04:002005-10-06T12:49:57.116-04:00

Conversation with a coworker this morning:K: So this guy was in LOVE with me. He followed me around like a puppy. He thought he was my bodyguard or something.M: What did he think when Pete (her now-husband) came around?K: Ohhh, this was B.P.M: B.P.?K: Before Pete.M: I like that. I'll have to use that. Ooh. No.K: What?M: That... wouldn't exactly work for me.K: Why not?M: B.J.? I don't think that

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1128012627055773442005-09-29T12:50:00.000-04:002005-09-29T12:50:27.066-04:00

This is just one of those days when I hate my life.I had to make half a dozen phone calls this morning to straighten up other people's mistakes. I'm so tired of having to suffer the consequences when other people screw up.First I had to call back and forth to our pharmacy and insurance company to straighten out one of Ethan's meds. The pharmacy only filled it for a 3 week supply. I know we got

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1127865076688745882005-09-28T00:31:00.000-04:002005-09-28T00:35:40.150-04:00

I got to the testing center right on time. It's a small facility that handles all kinds of standardized tests. We had to sign in and write what test we were taking. I was the only one taking an actuarial test. Almost everyone else was there to take the GRE's or the latest NASD test. I got the feeling they don't get many of my kind in there.I waited for a little while, then an older woman came out

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1127835609850500462005-09-27T11:39:00.000-04:002005-09-27T11:42:16.156-04:00

Study, study, study. Think, think, think. Just taking a short break. Honest.I have a newfound respect for the Me of 10 years ago. She was really smart! She knew all kinds of stuff! She could come up with creative ways at solving problems! She remembered hundreds of theorems and rules and definitions!The Me of 10 years later? Not so much.I have had the joy of discovering that - not only did I

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1127794718183090782005-09-27T00:58:00.000-04:002005-09-27T01:00:22.696-04:00

For the second night this week, I found myself trekking out to Satan's Club at 9 PM.(Please forgive me. I usually try not to shop there, since they're evil and all. But sometimes, I can't help myself. They're only 5 minutes away. And? They're open until 10:00 PM. TEN. PM. That means that even after CG is settled down to sleep, I've still got two whole hours of shopping bliss ahead of me.)Tonight,

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1127526562088400702005-09-23T21:49:00.000-04:002005-09-23T21:49:22.103-04:00

I hate scary movies, thrillers, any kind of "on the edge of your seat" films. Honestly, I don't get it. Why pay someone to frighten me when I do it so well all by myself?But I love movie trailers for thrillers. The coming attractions are usually my favorite part of the movie experience. I get intrigued, and by the time the movie is released, I'm desparate to find out what happens. The only

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1127233769108532312005-09-22T17:05:00.000-04:002005-09-22T17:06:37.223-04:00

I'm tired of talking about my drama. The school department and the bus company and the insurance company and the trip to Boston tomorrow and all the other CRAP I deal with on a daily basis.So instead, here's a funny story about balls.Last Thursday, CS made dinner for us with some leftovers she found in the fridge. The main dish was a modified version of Italian rice balls. She's a great cook who

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1127336416319094072005-09-21T17:01:00.000-04:002005-09-21T17:01:18.183-04:00

Again, I force myself to focus on all those things I'm ignoring in my life:The Actuarial Exam is in 6 days. SIX. DAYS. Or, in complete-math-geek terms, 141 hours. The sign of a true procrastinator: I started studying yesterday. And you know what? This stuff is HARD. I don't remember a damn thing. I thought, "I'm a fast learner. I'll just brush up with some practice problems." Yeah. Two hours,

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1127232884241725012005-09-20T12:13:00.000-04:002005-09-20T12:14:44.256-04:00

This article made me mad.I know, I know. It's all my fault I got preeclampsia when I was pregnant. Because I'm fat. It's all my fault the doctor couldn't properly gauge my baby's size. Because I'm fat. Basically, it's probably all my fault that Ethan has the problems he has. Because I'm fat.If you believe this article, I shouldn't have been able to get pregnant in the first place. Because I'm fat

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11152003.post-1126801014770624452005-09-16T16:55:00.000-04:002005-09-16T16:59:10.456-04:00

I have a theory that every guy my age is either named Michael or has at least one close friend named Michael. Think about the men in your life, and I bet you'll find it's true. Don't be confused by their aliases - because there are so many of them, they usually go by their last name or some other nickname. Or, my favorite, Just Plain Mike. Jete has one Michael and one Just Plain Mike (JPM).JPM

Metehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07276808432623125931noreply@blogger.com0