A Frustrating Day with a Teenager

I had yesterday the 29th off from work. Wanted to spend the day with Missy. She turned fourteen. Yes, that's right. 14. I have a lot of days when I can't believe that my oldest is that...well, old. Especially since most of the time, people still mistake me for a person in their 20s (I still get carded sometimes when I buy Mr. R his Corona.)

I scrimped, saved, and used Best Buy coupons for Missy's gift. A digital camera. Not a super duper camera, it's a Sony Sure Shot. Nice enough for a fourteen year old girl. It was the only gift I bought her, but it was expensive, and I knew she would love it.

Well, I thought she would.

I had to go to the dentist in the morning first. Got that cavity filled. Came home and she was still sleeping. Perfect. Poured a cup of coffee, made myself a small breakfast, and waited for her to wake up so I could present her with the awesome gift. I was really excited. I'm not a huge gift person myself, but I love buying gifts for others and watching them open it. I tend to put a lot of thought and energy into gifts. Probably because I have opened some awful gifts and don't want to put anyone through that!

She refused to open it. That's right. Looked at the gift with total disdain and said that she wanted to open it, but not in front of me or her dad. WHAT?!?! But that's sucking the joy out of the gift! I want to see you open it! I want to see your face! Nope. Didn't happen. She left it on the table, had breakfast, watched tv, and left it there. I felt like I'd been punched right in the face.

By the time she did open it, I was in the shower. Did she like the gift? Oh yes, she loved it. However, I never saw her open it, and I had to ask her dad if she had liked it. I think he was more ticked off than I was about it. "He snapped, yes, she loved it. Was it worth all the saving you put into that?" I had taken the day off so we could spend some time shopping and hanging out, but I was already done for the day. I went back to bed. Took an afternoon nap. Watched some tv. I even called into work, but they wouldn't let me clock in to get some of my vacation pay back. Missy and I eventually did end up at the mall, but I was less than enthused. I didn't buy anything for myself except a hairclip which I already broke. She bought some earrings, a pretzel, a soda, and some make-up.

So let me say in closing that if I happen to have any teenagers reading this, which I doubt, is that when your mom takes the time to buy you a present, no matter how crappy, just open the stupid thing and thank her. You don't know what she may have sacrificed (helloooo, I haven't colored my hair in months! You should see how much gray I'm sporting here) in order to buy you the present of your dreams.

Getting Old is Weird

So I was at McDonalds the other day (sigh...I know, shhhhh) and couldn't read the menu from my car and I had left my glasses on my desk. No kids in the car to read it for me. So I ordered my usual number 6, only to discover they changed the menu and I ended up with a McGriddle (which was shockingly better than I expected.)

I've worn glasses since I was 4 years old. Of course, glasses in the 80s were huge, plastic and coke-bottly. (That's a word, I swear it.) As I got older, I tried to buy more refined glasses that didn't make me look like a 3rd grade nerd. I pretended I didn't have glasses in my teens, and got into tons of trouble from my parents for not wearing them. I refused to wear them in school, mostly because my parents refused to buy me cool John Lennon glasses, and instead I got the clearance rack at Walmart, which generally were purple with sparkles in them. I don't even remember wearing them much in college, even though I studied a lot and all three of my roommates either wore glasses or contacts.

Now I'm 34, and I wear them almost the second I get up, to the second I get in bed. If I can't find my specs, I panic. My sunglasses are scratched to high heaven, and I desperately want them fixed. I was thinking about splurging and getting these lens changed out for new ones, and then getting my sunglasses lens changed out, plus a new pair of glasses also. That would probably set me back about $500. OR....should I spring for the Lasik? My insurance covers it now, I believe it's a $2000 copay. But...I would never have to wear glasses again. But I have that eyeball fear, guys. Lasers in my eyeballs? Oh dear, I'm faint.

I sort of like my glasses now. I think they make me look cute, plus Mr. R says I look like a "smoldering librarian" and what's not to love about that?!?!

Sorry, Guys!

It's not always exciting here in Sarah-Land. Work has been busy this week, but not frantically so. Although last night, right as I was about to clock out, I got an account for Blue Cross of Puerto Rico. Yeah. I am *no habla espanol" for the most part, and these calls kill me. I frantically called the office trying to find a Spanish speaking coworker, with no luck. So I had to send in a fax request, pathetically translated by me into Spanish. I still don't know if I got "colonoscopy" correct. Who knows what I just precerted, hmmmm?
I can't clock in today until 8am because I have an hour of overtime, and that is a no-no. So I'm sitting here, reading my blogs, eating some toast and drinking my coffee. Trying to wake up Tiger at 7am as he requested, because he wants to mow the lawn before Mr. R gets home tonight. He did most of it last night, but it started thundering and lightning and I ordered him into the house. And it is just so hot out there once it's past 10am, that I really don't want him out there!
I did take some pictures of my attempt at making buttermilk biscuits. Or, should I say, buttermilk hockey pucks. Just an FYI...just because something is listed on foodnetwork.com doesn't make it a good recipe. Instead, I read the comments on the recipe, adjusted the temperature and tried it again. Better, but not great. Tasted ok, but not fluffy at all. I'm going to attempt making the biscuits with self rising flour instead. There is something about flat biscuits that is just not appetizing.
Well, learning to bake from scratch is something new for me. I do like canned biscuits, don't get me wrong, but the price difference for me baking them myself is enormous. As usual, it's a time situation. How much is my time worth? About 12 biscuits! lol
Anyway, have a great day friends. I'll try to take more pictures next week. It will be Missy's 14th birthday, so should be fun.

Biking in the Rain

I haven't ridden my bike in two weeks. Why? Lazy. Pure and simple. I get that I'll probably never be a competitive *anything*. It's not in my blood. I tend to be very laid back, quiet, with a dash of snarkiness.
So I set my alarm with morning. Hit the snooze twice. It was raining, which is such awesome sleeping weather! But I got up, turned the coffee pot on, and turned the computer on. Let the dog out, fed the cats. Drank a glass of water and took my bp pill. Then hopped on my bike.
Ohhhhh, my muscles were screaming. You really can't take two weeks off or it feels like starting over. At least I didn't overheat since it was raining. But you should see my hair now. Can you say white girl afro? Well, I'm living it.
I'm glad I got back on. I'm going to do it again tomorrow. Weight has been stagnant for far too long.

Socialized Medicine

After having a discussion with a friend of mine this week (wink wink, you know who you are, girl!) I had to state my opinion on the issue.

Basically, I'm against it. Not because I think poor people should die, or because I'm uncaring. I have two major reasons:

1) I believe I should be in charge of my health care, not the government.
2) Medicare and Medicaid are already a mess. Those are both examples of socialized medicine. If the government can't handle those smaller versions of socialized medicine, how do we the people expect them to handle the entire country?

I'm the mother of a child with a disability. Would the government be allowed to deny my child treatment because he's not worthy? Because he's not a minority group? What about my daughter? Would she be forced to take a vaccine like Gardasil even though it has killed 47 other women and girls? All because the CDC recommends the vaccine? And hello...look at me. I'M FAT. Would I be denied life saving measures unless I lose weight? Until I fit in the demands of their perfect box? Do all 5 foot 6 women have to weigh under 155lbs in order to obtain proper medical care?

And on a purely selfish level: if socialized medicine becomes law, I will likely lose my job. My job is to call insurance companies to obtain authorizations for procedures and tests. If there is no insurance, there is no Sarah calling insurance companies. And my husband, who owns his own business, will likely be taxed to the point where he will likely lose everything he has worked so hard for.

But hey. We might be homeless, but at least we can go to the doctor, right?

Your thoughts? Be polite, please. I'm less about debating, more about learning.

You've Got a Friend

Online today, July 16, 2009:

DEAR ABBY: My son is autistic and was teased badly by his classmates. I worked with the school to address the issue. The school talked to some wonderful older students about mentoring my son. They became his buddies, keeping an eye on him and teaching him how to more appropriately interact with other kids.

The truth is, there are far more nice kids than mean ones in this world, and finding students eager to help wasn't hard at all. The day those kids walked up to my son and asked him if he wanted to play catch was the happiest day in his life. He beamed from ear to ear, and he hasn't stopped since.

Any young person can absolutely change the life of a child with special needs just by being a friend. -- DIAN IN OAK PARK, ILL.

Deltona Farmer's Market

I was at first super excited about my little city (actually, it's the largest city in my county) having a farmer's market. Mr. R and I adore fresh produce. Shockingly, this fat girl loves a salad, adores fruit, and when I was pregnant, I used to make myself pots of broccoli to satisfy cravings. No joke. So I brought my camera to the market. I was dismayed to find it really wasn't much of a farmer's market. It appears they bought stuff from Publix and just decided to sell it in a parking lot instead. Because I don't think most farmers have their herbs with little plastic doohickeys stuck in them. Give me a handwritten, misspelled sign! COME ON. At least make me THINK its an authentic farmer's market. Sheesh. Oh well...pictures of food.

They were selling flowers too. I don't remember what these are, but aren't they pretty? You know I'm going to take pictures of stuff that is red. You peeps know me by now.

I loooove these plants. They're called "dusty millers" and I remember that because Miller was my maiden name. I think they look like they're dusted with snow. Don't you think so?


Your basic palm. I bet my northern readers think it's pretty. Well, I'm sick of 'em. Bet ya didn't know that huge roaches live in them. Think they're so pretty now? NOT.


YAAAAAAAAY for handwritten farmer signs! What is pennyroyal anyway? Do you cook with it, or is it a medicinal herb? I don't know. I could google it, but I'm lazy.


Gardenias. Another favorite of mine. I have gardenia scented lotion that I rub all over my feetums when I'm done taking a shower, and then I put socks on at night. Keeps the feetums moisturized and not at all stinky.


Ok, I just thought that was funny. Carry on.



Not sure what it is, ^^^ but it sure is PURTY.



Red, pink, I love the tropical looking plants. Except for the palms.




Look at that handsome guy checking out the melons...hahahahaha! Oh, man I am funny. What? Was that inappropriate? Hmph.



Tiger's favorite...CORNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!



Is it a pickle if it hasn't been pickled yet, or is just a cucumber?


Red peppers. LOVE. Unfortunately, no one else in the house likes peppers. So I only get them if we're eating out, because it's just going to rot. I can't eat them fast enough on my own.



I want salsa in the worst way right now.




Look at those gorgeous maters. I love, love, love tomatoes. And not just because they're red. I've always loved them. Yet I hate ketchup. I am so odd.




Mmmmm, string beans! I bought a bag of these and cooked em up that very night. I did it old school southern style, by frying up some bacon (only about three slices), then cutting up the bacon and cooking it in with the beans, and then adding almond slivers. It is absolutely delicious, and no I don't use the bacon grease. I am neither my mother-in-law or Paula Deen.



Red potatoes make such an awesome mashed potato. I add garlic.



Acorn squash, and I have no idea how to make that, so I left it. Still took a picture though.



My melons are huge! Bwahahahaha...what? Inappropriate again? I don't think so.




Juicy goodness.



And Mr. R's favorite...cabbage. Which I don't like. Although maybe if I learned how to make eggrolls, I'd buy it. But just boiled cabbage to me, looks like snot.

Hooray for my sorta new camera that I'm still learning to use! And hooray for a happy post! Bet you guys are sick of me whining. I'm sick of it too. Love you guys!

Positivity

I haven't logged on because I didn't really have anything great to say.

Mr. R's sister might be moving back in with us because her new boyfriend is turning out to be just like her estranged husband. Who woulda thunk it?

The mother-in-law keeps changing her mind about moving in, moving out. I cannot imagine where I will put two extra grown adults.

Work is crazy.

Mr. R has been gone for 9 days, and probably won't be back for at least another week, possibly two weeks.

I have a dentist appointment tomorrow.

I can't get motivated to get on that bicycle.

So yeah, I will wait until I have something great to post.

Maybe I will buy a hotel, just to keep the relatives happy.

How Well I Know My Baby

I dropped Missy off at a friend's house tonight. Bucket decided he'd like to go for a ride with me.
We were listening to a Tim McGraw cd. More accurately, I should say I was belting out the words to "Indian Outlaw" when I noticed Bucket make a funny sound. I glanced over and saw him curled up in a ball, gulping.
Oh crap.
I stopped singing, hit the power window for his side, un-clicked his seatbelt, and grabbed him by the back of his shirt, just as he bolted out of his seat, hung his head out the window and puked all over the side of my car.
He did about four or five good heaves, and sat back down, whimpering.
I said, "You poor thing. Feel better?"
He said, "Yes, I'm glad you knew I was going to throw up before I did."

Awwwww. Strange words to make a mother's heart proud.

A New Goal That Has Nothing To Do With My Weight

Hi all! I am having a relaxing night tonight. The kids are at Wednesday night service, and I am eating dinner and cleaning my desk. However, I wanted to plant a seed in the head of my readers about food storage.

Huh?

FOOD STORAGE! As times get tough, especially for us because my husband is not getting the loads he used to, money is getting tight. Whenever I have a good amount of money, I do a major food shop at BJ's or Walmart and stock up. However, it never seems to last very long and I don't have my meals organized or planned at all.

My two friends, Jenni and Renee, are really helping me see the light when it comes to sensible shopping and storing in bulk. My two friends have never met each other (in fact, I've never actually met Jenni in person at all!) but they are both frugal shoppers and actually cook and bake, which makes them both experts in my book. And my book is important, ya'll. So there.

Renee absolutely blows my mind by having a 6 month supply of food stored for a family of 7. 7!!! Can you imagine the load lifted off your shoulders by knowing that you had that much saved up for an emergency? That if your husband (or you, if you're a working outside the home kind of gal) has a bad week at work or lost his job, that at least the kids would be fed wholesome, nutritious food? What a great feeling! And Jenni...she goes to Publix and walks out with tons of food for a $20. I have no idea how she does it, but I'm super duper impressed by them both.

So tell me...what are YOU doing to prepare for your family, in case of emergency?

(photo from www.crivitz.com)

Food Network, Ya'll!

(This picture is courtesy of yumsugar.com.)

Seeing as how I'm a fat girl, I looooove food! And as I'm getting older, my tastes are becoming a bit more refined, but I'm still not at all frou-frou. Plating means very little to me. I think that's why this particular show, Down Home With The Neely's on Food Network, is one of my favorite. For one, they are the most adorable couple. You can tell they are truly in love. Second, they make REAL FOOD. Not some crazy thing you can only find in Uruguay in September. They specialize in BBQ, comfort food, and they really work together as a team which is so endearing.

I try to tune in every evening, I believe they come on at 5:30. I grab my glass of water, my blanket, and snuggle into the couch and watch them cook. I would definitely try their recipes. Most of them anyway.

Last night they made hot wings, and as you can tell from previous posts, I love me some wings. But the dessert that Gina made...I am not sure what to think of it. It was called "Gina's BBQ Brie with Raspberries." I mean, I'm willing to try new food, but this one just looked like a blood clot. This is not the exact picture, but it's close. This just doesn't look good enough to eat, to me. Would you eat this? I like cheese, and I like raspberries, but together? Is it like a grilled cheesecake? I just don't know. They were spreading it on crackers.

The Hairy Beast

This is me, desperately trying to avoid work. I'm holding my kitty Buck. At first, I meant he was the hair beast, but now that I see this picture, I think my title should be "The Hairy Beasts." And, I just got a hair cut!
Michelle Obama arms, I have not. Sigh.

11 Years Ago Today...

11 years ago today, July 5, I had a 7lb, 12oz chicken legged baby boy. Since I already had a boy and a girl, I hadn't bothered to find out the gender during ultrasounds. Although I was pretty sure he was a boy. When I'm pregnant with boys, I grow facial hair. I'm not kidding. My doctor told me it was the boy's testosterone rushing through my own body. So when I started sprouting a beard in my third month, I already knew. I had a useless girl name picked out anyway, lol.

I wish I could say I was excited about this birth, but I was not. I was 23, having my third baby. I was a waitress at IHOP. A good tip day meant I had enough money for a pack of diapers and a gallon of milk. Missy was almost three years old, and Tiger was fourteen months. I was overwhelmed in the baby department. People were kind and asked me what I needed for this new baby, and I said, "CASH."

My mom, all the way from New York, offered me what I thought was a golden ticket. $100. Which was big money back in 1998. But, I had to use it in one way. Either a tubal ligation for me, or a vasectomy for Mr. R. Frankly, after having three kids in less than three years, I opted for Mr. R to go for it. And he did, on Labor Day weekend 1998, when Bucket was about two months old.

Honestly, the only reason why we did it, is because I figured it was cheaper than birth control. What an idiot, idiot decision. I was thinking in the short term, and not for the future. All I could think was, I'm sick of being pregnant, I'm sick of being poor, and I'm sick of bottles, diapers, stupid nursery rhymes, horrifying puppet shows on TV and constant sleepless nights.

Anyway, here are some pictures of my little guy, now 11 years old. My, how I grew to love him. He was the funniest looking baby ever, so different than my first two. He was not plump at all, and had a head full of black hair. I dressed him up as Superman on his first Halloween and slicked his hair back. He was quite convincing. I'll have to find a photo of that. But until then, here is what an 11 year old boy looks like when he's scarfing down chicken wings at the local bar. Yes, I brought him to a bar. They have a kids menu! So sue me...

5 Years Ago Today

I was lying in a hospital bed, weeping, thinking I was never going to walk again.

A terrible, horrifying car crash had left me partially paralyzed from the waist down. On July 3, 2004, we only had one vehicle. Mr. R was working for a furniture company as a driver. He had a helper named Tommy who we had become friends with. Tommy and his wife also only had one vehicle, so his wife and I took turns driving to Orlando to pick up the guys after their shift so we weren't both stuck at home all day with kids and no vehicle. It was my turn on July 3rd. Mr. R's mom was living with us at the time, and so I left the kids with her since it was quite late, about 10:30pm.

I picked up the guys, drove to Florida Hospital to get gas (we have our own gas pumps, and I can use my company ID to get gas, which I do when I'm broke, it comes out of my next paycheck), and hopped on I-4, heading east to Deltona. I was approaching Altamonte Springs, and Mr. R reminded me to be careful because Red Hot and Boom was letting out. That is their city's fireworks spectacular that they do on the 3rd instead of the 4th every year. We were quickly approaching midnight when the show was over.

I switched to the middle lane so I could avoid the traffic merging from Altamonte Springs. It didn't matter. A woman in a white 4 door sedan barreled onto I-4 and went right to the middle lane. I swerved to avoid her. It had been raining. My wheels skidded, and I hit the left guardrail, and bounced right off. I hit the guardrail so hard that I then flew into the right guardrail, right where there was a lake. I was screaming in fear, and all I could think of was my children. Our van kept spinning, and it bounced off that guardrail, back into the middle lane of I-4, where I was promptly hit by a Suburban and T-boned by an Expedition, I think.

Mr. R was able to hop out of the van with no problem, as it was my side that was hit. Tommy had been asleep in the backseat without his seat belt. He had a deep cut on his leg and was losing blood quickly. Me? I was trapped. I literally could not move. Then I heard sirens. Within seconds, a paramedic had crawled in where Mr. R had been. "Hi there. I'm Jason and I'm here to get you out."

"Hi Jason. I'm Sarah and I'm ready to get out of here!"

Unfortunately, they had to use the jaws of life to rip open the door to my minivan, as the front had caved in over my legs. After about 40 minutes, I was free, but there was no walking away for me. I was carried by a few strong paramedics, whisked to Florida Hospital Altamonte, and admitted overnight.

Doctors could find nothing wrong with my legs, yet they weren't working. One physician chalked it up to shock (really!) and told me I should regain my strength in a few weeks. I did walk out of the hospital one day later, but it was with a walker and it took me forever, but I didn't want to get used to a wheelchair. I also had a broken sternum from hitting the steering with such force. The same doctor who told me I had shock, told me, "It's a good thing you're so overweight. Your fat saved you. Had you been a skinny gal, your chest would have caved in and you probably would have punctured a lung."

I was covered in glass, bruises on my left side from head to toe, broken sternum, and faulty legs, but I was going home. To this day, some of my worst nightmares include spinning in a car in the dark.

But I'm here, and I survived, and I'm now walking and bicycling and so very glad to be alive for my children. I almost didn't get to come home to my family 5 years ago. Talk about Independence.

Proof That I Am Turning Into My Mom

I turned to Mr. R this morning and said in an exasperated tone:

"I'm so glad I have tomorrow off so I can clean this house!"

Mr. R: "Bwahahahahaha!"

(I picked this picture because I'm wearing a yellow shirt, and yellow is my mom's favorite color. Every time I wear this, she tells me I look "sunny!")
And yes, my hair does extend beyond the bottom of the picture frame. It's quite long.