Cruel Week, Time to Drink

Some weeks are just more traumatic than others, this week was one of them.  I am so glad I made it to Friday because there was a couple of days this week I wasn’t sure I would survive.  Let me give you a little recap of the bliss.

I had to go to the dermatologist one morning to get a “scary” mole checked out.  My neighbor took my 5 year old so I didn’t have to take her with me and have to answer the usual questions while I disrobe in front of her.  You know, “Why is your belly not flat?  Why is there hair there?  What are those creases on your thighs?”  After waiting around in the lobby for 20 minutes and then the room wearing the paper sheet for another 20 minutes the doctor finally comes in to spend 90 seconds with me telling me the mole is a sign of my aging (thanks dick) and nothing to be concerned about.  Just before walking out, he told the nurse to give me a prescription for facial sunscreen, before my skin gets worse, and tells me to stay out of the sun this year.  I wanted to tell him that I have a theory that spending a lot of time in the sun actually burns the fat causing it to melt away.

In between Girl Scouts, Tae Kwon Do, and working at the school we had our 6 month dental exams for the girls.  The amount of anxiety I have going there is insurmountable.  To me it is like judgment time on whether I am a good parent or not based solely on the fact of cavity or no cavity.  This time the hygienist told me they were going to take panoramic x-rays of my 7 year old to see how soon before we should start seeing an orthodontist for braces.  What?  Age 7?  Excuse me?  Did I mention that the orthodontist is the brother of the dentist and they share an office?  Take all the pictures you want as long as Aetna will cover them, but getting me to put braces on my 7 year old when she still has more than half of her baby teeth is not happening.  If your brother can’t get his new Audi  this month, I don’t care, I am driving around town in a 6 year old minivan with bumps, dents, scratches and enough stale food inside of it to feed a small country.

Yesterday in the middle of homework my daughter tells me there is something wrong with her head (mine too honey, but don’t you worry it will go away).  No she feels a lump and I have to look at it.  As I move her hair, I see a bug of some sort and for some reason I tell her this.  She starts jumping and screaming as I am trying to remove it.  With her dancing we have moved from the kitchen to the dining room to the hall to the bathroom all with me trying to get my hand on this bug to remove it.  This is the child that we pay a good chunk of change every month for her to take drama classes, when it is obvious she should be teaching the class.  I finally get a piece of tissue and grasp the bug, which I am fairly certain is a tick, and pull it out.  As I pull it out I squish it and then throw it in the toilet and flush.   I am not sure if the tick was attached or not and I am stressed because lyme disease is huge in northern VA.  I spend an hour reading about it on the Internet until I was even more lost and then made the decision to just keep checking her scalp every 30 minutes to see if there is a rash or bulls eye or a note that says, “No lyme disease you are fine”.

By Thursday evening I am wiped out and I just want to have my glass of wine, watch Idol and chill.  I am bathing the kids while my husband packs for his turkey hunting trip this weekend.  He asks if I need anything and I tell him if he could finish the kid’s baths up that would be great.  I go throw some laundry in the dryer, clean up the dinner dishes and as I climb the stairs I hear my husband say, “No, do it like this.  Yes that’s good, cup the armpit and pump.”  You have got to be kidding me!  I get to the doorway and just stare at him in utter disbelief.  I swear to God, if I get a call from the school today I am driving to those woods in Maryland and dragging him to the school to have that conversation.

So, TGIF.  We have a fairly busy day, but once I have completed all my parental obligations I am cracking open a bottle of wine and going to see if June has gotten the vodka out of the freezer and wants to play.  Have an awesome weekend, blog you later!


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