Wordless Wednesday

He's "helping"

I talked to Jesse last night about how he's falling down on the job when it comes to helping with the kitchen. His excuse? "I thought cleaning up after dinner meant that I had to put the leftovers away!"

Yeah. Because 30 seconds of spooning leftovers into tupperware is the kind of help I was looking for in the kitchen. Not to mention that we don't always even have leftovers. Not to mention (even further) that he doesn't even do it anyway! I put the leftovers away! Augh!

In calmer, cuter nesws - Elle has recently shown a real interest in rubbing tissues and napkins on things to "clean" them. I should see if I can get her to scrub the floor.

Tackle It Tuesday

I have 4 billion things that need to be done around the house but todays TiT is a little different.

Part 1: Fill out the 10,000 pieces of paperwork I need to do for Joseph's 3 year IEP re-assesment. (This is going to take a while.)

Part 2: Try to get a hold of someone about getting Joseph into the Mobile Assesment Unit so that he can be seen by a group of people who can get him a diagnosis. Call the Mental Health Triage Nurse I met last night to get a formal referal to a new behavioral therapist. I also have to talk to her about accessing Family Home Therapy. (So much to do but it's all really positive stuff!)

Part 3: Kick some butt. Back when I started getting into the swing of cooking dinner more regularly Jesse and I agreed that if I did the cooking he would take care of the cleaning up after. I've slowly started to notice that when I go to cook dinner now my first step has to be to clean up from last night's dinner because no one else has done it. This will not stand.

Part 4: General pick-up all over the house. Boring.

Update! - re part 2: The main person I need to get ahold of is out of the office all week. I left her a message to call me and if she hasn't called me by Monday I'll call her back. Small setback.

Taking Zicam while breastfeeding

OK, I get like 3 or 4 hits a day from people looking to find out if it's ok to take Zcam while you are nursing. And the answer is:

Don't. In fact, don't take any medication while you are nursing unless you have talked to your doctor about it first. Pretty much every medication you can take will make it's way into your breastmilk find out from your doctor if it's ok or not.

And please, please, please talk to a medical proffesional about this type of thing. Don't rely on stangers on the internet to give you important information about stuff like this because most of the time they won't know what they're talking about. Thank you.

A great deal of deals

If you're like me you love a good deal. I clip and collect coupons like a crazy lady. I just like to save money. So sue me. Or rather, don't sue me because I'm going to pass on little tip to you. If you're looking for web coupons, couponchief is a great place to find them. They have coupons, codes and deals from an amazing number of retailers.

The site is really easy to use too. You can browse the coupons on the site by catagories, by store name or by keyword search. With everything from deals on Disney to coupns for Weight Watchers you're sure to find something you can use. So be sure to check out couponcheif for some fantastic deals.

The words and opinions in this blog post are purely my own. This post was sponsored by PayPerPost.

Problem Girl

"Why 'Problem Girl'?" I was recently asked. Here's why "Problem Girl".

I was always a really shy kid. It wasn't too big of a problem when I was young because I still managed to make friends easily. People said I was nice and funny and that seemed to make up for the shyness. So I was always a little quiet with people I didn't know well but otherwise, it was ok.

Then one day something strange happened. All of the sudden all the other little girls around started growing up. They talked about boys all the time. I couldn't figure out why the same boys we had run away from shrieking last year were now the same boys they thought were "cute" (or, in painful 80's speak "fine"). I thought the boy crazy talk was stupid and pointless. I still wanted to play Barbies.

Things got worse. At a pretty young age I shot up and out and my body changed in ways that I have still not gotten 100% comfortable with. Boys started to look at me diffrently. I hated it. (I hate it still. Just because I have a big ole' pair of boobies on my chest doesn't mean I don't have eyes on my face. Look up when you talk to me please!) Add to this my general confusion about why boys were supposed to be such a big deal to me and you have one confused and uncomfortable little girl.

Even though I matured physicaly at a young age I never really developed the same interest in clothes, hair and makeup that so many of my friends did. I'm still that way. Give me a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, a ponytail holder and a tube of chapstick and I'm a happy camper. I'm just not into that other stuff most of the time. I'm fine with that now but at the time it just served to set me even further apart from the other girls I knew. I don't think my mom ever understood my lack of interest in girly things either and it was sometimes a point of contention with us.

Things got worse. We moved to Germany where I went to a very small cliqueish school. You were either "in" or you were "out". Way out. There was no in between. I was lost. At least in California there were people that knew that I was funny and nice even if they did think I was weird. In Germany people just thought I was weird. And since they were just kids too they never bothered trying to learn anything else about me. And I was too shy to get them to see anything else about me.

During those 3 years in Germany I felt worse and worse about myself. I was an easy target. I never stood up for myself no matter what was done or said to me. There was one boy who was in several classes with my who would grab my breasts in front of the other students (and sometimes even teachers). No one tried to stop him. I actually started to blame myself, to blame my own body for what was happening to me. "If only I didn't stand out so much people would just leave me alone."

By the time we moved to Colorado I was a wreck inside. I don't think I let it show at home how I felt. I know that I fought with my parents a lot and made life pretty miserable for all of us but I don't think I ever told them why I was acting that way. I was pretty sure it was all my fault. Anyway, if a teacher could see another kid do something like put gum in my hair and do nothing to stop it then what could my parents do for me?

Things got worse. The school I went to in Colorado had a lot of well-to-do kids. They drove flashy cars, wore expensive clothes and in general looked down on people who didn't do the same. At this point my early maturation was no longer an issue since the other girls had caught up to me (although not all the way up if you get my drift) and I had taken to wearing clothes 10 sizes too big for me anyway. Now I was an outcast for other reasons.

For some reason that I've never fully understood a lot of people I went to school with thought I was a lesbian. Not a good thing to be labled as when you go to a conservative, uptight school a stones throw away from Focus on the Family (and several other religious groups). How can you prove to people that you're not gay when they want to believe that you are? Anyway, the lesbian thing wasn't what was important. It was just one more thing for people to rip into me about. From being a lesbian, to the fact that my jeans were always to short. I heard it all and I heard it every day. Because I didn't know how to stop it I even started to blame myself for all the harassment I was getting. "If I just wasn't so stupid/uncool/ugly/weak then people would leave me alone."

Aside from the memories I have of a few very good friends (two in particular who I really think were all that kept me from just giving in and giving up) I have no good memories of those three years of school in Colorado. Do you ever walk past someone and they laugh and you think to youself "Are they laughing at me?" for one second? No imagine how you would feel if it turned out that they really were laughing at you. And it happened over and over and over again. I no longer felt funny or nice, I just felt bad. It takes a long time to get over that.

Happily, 10+ years after it all ended I have managed to get over it. I've slowly remembered that I am funny and nice. I'm smart too and I'm a good person. And frankly, the fact that I can even say that stuff about myself and mean it? Impresses the living fuck right out of me.

So why "Problem Girl"? Because even though I'm over it I will always have the memory of those past hurts. You never heal 100% from wounds that deep. Even though most days I'm great (and I am great, when it comes right down to it I've got an awesome life) there are still occasional times when I feel like the whole world is just laughing at me behind my back. And I need an occasional reminder that I am ok. And it's cheesy and it's silly but for me that reminder comes in the form of a song by Rob Thomas. Hey, it's good for me ok? You gotta do what works.

"Problem Girl"
Don't let 'em get where they're going to
You know they're only what they think of you
You heard of this emotional trickery
And you felt like you were learning the ropes
But where you're going now you don't know

And when the kids on the street say
What's your problem girl
And the weight of their smile's just
Too much for you to bear
When they all make you feel
Like you're a problem girl
Remember
You're no problem at all
You're no problem at all

Pride like promises can let you down
You thought that you'd be feeling
Better by now
You worry all the things they could do to you
You worry about the things they could say
Maybe you're seeing things the wrong way

Try
If you stand or you fall
You're no problem at all

A little reading

Elle was so happy that I cleaned the junk chair off that she decided to climb up into it.


And then she did a little reading.


I had a really cute picture of Joseph I was going to put up here but it was of him from the side and when I looked at it closely I realized that you could see right into his ears and they were so dirty and waxy that anyone who saw the picture might report me to Child Protective Services for letting my child walk around like that. So, there will be none of that.

Lessons learned

What lessons did the kids learn yesterday? Elle learned that just because you can eat crayons does not mean that you should eat crayons. Joseph learned that no matter how upset it makes you I will not be able to stop myself from laughing if you're playing a game and you scream out to me "Mommy! My balls are out of control!"

Yesterday we the 5 year anniversary of Joseph's adoption. I have a lot of ooshy-gooshy thoughts about that but I'm not able to get them organized. It's sort of overwhelming when I think about it. I'll just say (for now) that we took him out to dinner and a highlight was when he broke out him impression of me yelling at him. "This is what she sounds like on Christmas 'Joseph! Open those presents!' and this is what she sounds like on Thanksgiving 'Joseph! Eat all your stuffing!' and this is what she sounds like when we're in Scotland 'Joseph! Put on a skirt and do an Irish jig!'" Ay yi yi.