Out wit, out play, out last.
No, its not the latest Gilligan Island Lord Of The Flies with grown ups tv show, its parenting at Christmas time.
I don't know if its just my home, or if its a common parenting phenomanon, but the kids behaviour the last few weeks leading up to the holidays are enough to single handedly explain why drinking is so associated with the holidays. Good tidings my fat butt...its an attempt to keep from killing the kids.
Not even the threat/promise of the fat dude in the suit with toys is enough to modify the behaviour of the Stepford Heathens. Nope. I was 'talking' to Santa tonight, telling him how Tazzie wasn't going to bed nicely...and Tazzie sat on the landing laughing at me. I kid you not. Tazzie, for those who aren't aware, isn't even 4 yet.
What is it about the holidays that turns children into demon spawn? I mean, seriously, folks. I'd NEVER be one to claim model behaviour children, they're far too busy for that kind of nonsense, but normally, they're not sent from the bowels of Hades for the sole purpose of tormenting their innocent mother.
*listens to doors slamming, feet pounding, yelling from the bedroom area*
I've never understood the objection to duct tape. Seems a fine idea.
So does the Baileys in the cupboard...
But, since I have a mountain o'crud to accomplish, and no idea how its gonna get done (how the heck do you wrap gifts with one incredibly stupid, swollen, and painful hand? I'll let you know, but I'm guessing the answer is, "You wrap crappy.") I'll take this moment to wish everyone a Merry Christmas.
I'll be the one either passed out drunk under the tree with ribbon up my nose and wrapping paper in my ears, or heavily sedated in a locked facility.
Or...I'll post again. Place your bets now!
Thank you to Jane and Sam for your support!
The good news is that it has taken the edge off the arm, so on that basis, a repeat is likely. Yay!
Bad news is there's something going on with my right eye. RN before the procedure noted that the pupil in my rt eye is dilated more than my left. Apparently pupil dilation is part of the sympathetic nervous system...what I'm wondering is if its from my migraines, or maybe what's causing them.
Also, the droopy eye thing was a lot worse than the first time, and red as heck. Felt like I've got vinegar and sand in my eyes. My tears actually hurt.
So, I'm really freaked out about the eye issue. Specialist is off on vacation til the New Year, so I'll go see my GP next week. I'm worried about potential damage to the eye...Last thing I need is to be the one eyed one armed flying purple...errr...you know what I mean.
I promise, I'll blog soon about the general insanity inhabiting the Stepford house, but for now, this is where I'm at.I have my 3rd block tomorrow, be at the hospital for 630 am.
First was successful, in that I had some reduction in pain.
Second was completely unsuccessful.
So, this is the tie breaker. If it works this go 'round, we'll go again...if it doesn't...that's it, end of the line, everyone off.
Specialist is talking more narcotics...including methadone
I'm really not wanting to start down that particular level of hell, tyvm. Being a stoned zombie, incapable of parenting doesn't seem like an option to me. But when its bad, I'd take anything shoved my way. Not a great place to be.
Hoping that this works, even just the tiniest amount. I so don't want to be on narcotics. Really really really don't. Both my maternal grandparents were/are alcoholics and the addiction potential scares the living crap out of me. I've been told, repeatedly, that 'you can't be an addict when you're needing the meds for pain management, its only if you're taking them without cause...' But that doesn't make much sense to me. Your body gets dependant, the reasons why don't matter.
I can't be stoned outta my gourd and be a wife and mother. I won't do that to my family.
Pray, vibe, whatever you've got that this shows some positive results...cause the options suck.
Was talking to my gf tonight. She wanted to go out shopping, but Wolf wasn't home yet...and I told her I've got my BIL coming, and desperately needed to clean the house.
She offered to help.
I immediately turned her down.
She offered again, more insistantly.
I faced facts. I needed help. I can't do what I used to. I just can't. I have company coming, and the house, while not ready to be condemned was far below even my admittedly non OCD standards.
I accepted her offer.
Its a weird mixed bag of emotions. On one hand, its MY mess, damn it. My family. My responsibility. Having a FRIEND see it at its worst was a blow to my pride and ego, let alone accepting an offer to help clean it.
On the other hand...how incredibly lucky I am to have such a friend that comes over and pitches in, whole heartedly. When I pushed too far and simply had to give in and sit at the table fighting not to cry from hurting, she chatted away, cleaning my stovetop, making it seem like the most natural thing in the world that I should be sitting down watching while she cleaned my kitchen.
I was truly blessed this evening. Many thanks to you. You know who you are, and you are much loved for what you did. I'm not graceful with words, in person, but I know that you'll read this and understand that I could say here what I couldn't tonight.Thank you.
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