At least we've met our deductible

I got a call from camp today at 10:00. It's Construction Week, The Boy was sanding a bench he built, and got a sliver under his thumbnail. He was inconsolable. I spoke with him, asked them to put a bandaid on it and send him back to camp, and dad would be there at lunch to remove the sliver. They called back not two minutes later. The director said the sliver was shoved in from the tip to the cuticle, and they wanted me to take him to a doctor.

Even without my reading glasses I could see it in there - right at the very edge of the nail. The PA was surprised I brought him in. "The sliver is just sitting at the very tip of his thumb," she said. "It'll work out on it's own."

"Really?" I asked. "This whole thing right here isn't a sliver under his nail?" Upon further inspection, she concurred.

We went to the procedure room. Four of us restrained him, and there was no way she was getting that sliver out. She gave him a topical. Still nothing. She gave him valium. He grinned at me and said, "I will not let this medicine calm me down." SERIOUSLY??? Is that possible? After 15 minutes or so, we restrained him again while she deadened the thumb with a shot, and then again about 15 minutes later when she pulled it out. It was no less than 1/2 inch long.

He kicked, flailed, and swung his fists. He yelled, cried, and screamed "STOP IT! I MEAN IT! I HATE YOU! YOU STUPID DOCTORS! GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

It scared the shit out of me. If I ever piss him off that badly, I'll be sleeping behind locked doors.

Celebrating Fathers

Mine: Thank you for always watching over me - then and now.

MFH: Thank you for doing your darndest to see that The Boy grows up to be a good citizen.

My FIL: Thank you for doing such a fine job with My Fabulous Husband. The two of you are, hands down, the kindest men I have ever known.

Imagine that!

My supervisor, the Corp Controller, had her baby last week and is on maternity leave until August 3.

The president of the company asked her far in advance of her due date to present a plan to show how she planned on getting her job done while she is out. The company bought her a laptop and had it set up so she could work from home.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that the "plan" was to have me do her job.

Don't get any grandiose ideas - I'm still doing my own job as well.

Imagine my disappointment when I got my paycheck and there was no extra money in there for the extra duties.

Go figure.

All's clear

The infection is gone. The doctor didn't have to suction the ear again. For that, and expensive but effective meds, we are thankful.

While I was getting ready for work, I heard MFH ask The Boy who should accompany him to the doctor - mom or dad.

"I think you should take me, Dad. I don't think mom could handle it if he has to dig in my ear again."

Whatcha gonna do with all that junk

The garage sale was a smashing success. I learned a long time ago not to price items according to what I paid for them or using sentimental value. People want a bargain, I don't want to haggle over price, and I certainly don't want to bring anything back into the house....so I price things to make sure they sell.

Sure it bugs me to put $2.00 on a N.ike outfit in perfect condition that I paid $40 for, and that The Boy wore for one summer (sparingly at that). But that's really my problem, not the shopper that's looking for a deal. Let me tell you, these shoppers scored big.

So did The Boy.

I knew he would not part with any of the crap in his room, so I snuck in there last week when he was in a pain/drug induced coma and helped myself to the toys he's outgrown. We priced them and boxed them up before he could see any of it. There were also boxes of his stuff in the garage that haven't been opened since the move, and we priced a lot of that as well. Fortunately, most of what he would recognize was sold before we got to the sale to help on Saturday.

I tried to keep him busy and away from his things, to no avail. He recognized a few games and puzzles that he confiscated and put back into the car. Then, I went into the house for a brief respite and when I came back out, a friend of ours had bought him a stuffed fish that had been his to begin with. He walked down the street with said friend to a Church sale and came back with this huge stuffed warthog that some random man bought for him.

We almost came back home with more things to put into his room than I took out of there which pretty much defeats the purpose of having a garage sale in the first place.

One man's junk is another man's treasure

We've been going through boxes all week, preparing for a garage sale.

Boxes, many of which haven't been opened since we packed them up and moved 2 years ago.

That's a clear sign that we accumulate a lot of crap that we don't really need - whether we buy it or it's gifted to us.

One such gift I received is a large and probably expensive Y.ankee candle. A purple one, scented with sage and lavender. While I like both of those smells independently, together not so much.

The Boy loves anything scented - air fresheners, candles, cologne, you name it.

He saw that sitting on the counter with a price dot on it. "You're selling that?" he asked, while taking the lid off and smelling it.

He ran into his room, counted out the appropriate change, plopped it on the counter and took the candle. "I'm buying it!" he exclaimed.

Then he took it into his room and promptly hid it.

I'll probably find it under his bed when I'm dragging him out to go to that doctor appointment next week.

Remember the irritated ear?

It's now a full blown infection - inner and outer.

MFH coached The Boy's baseball team again this year. One of the fathers is an ENT. We called him on Sunday regarding the bleeding ear (which by that time was just draining, but no longer bleeding) and he said to schedule an appointment on Monday. He, like my cousin, felt it was related to the tube, said it was most likely not an emergency, but please bring him in within the next week or so.

We made an appointment for Wednesday. That day was also a field trip to an Alpaca Ranch at camp, and we didn't want The Boy to miss that so we canceled and said we'd reschedule.

Tuesday night The Boy woke up screaming and crying. MFH sat upright with him all night in the recliner to relieve the pressure and allow him to sleep. (I know - isn't he fabulous?) Needless to say, we kept the appointment. His poor ear was red and sore to the touch. MFH took him to the doctor, who had to suction the ear out - which meant he had to touch it. It took MFH and the nurses to restrain The Boy, and MFH told me he has never heard screaming like he did in that room.

My poor baby.

MFH said, "I am so glad you weren't there. It broke my heart, but you wouldn't have been able to handle it."

He has three prescriptions, totalling $256.00. Ouch! I have great benefits, and for that I really have to thank whatever higher power you believe in.

Last night, The Boy was starting to feel better. He knows he is to return to the doctor next Tuesday for a follow up - and more suction. I told him that by then his ear probably won't be sore anymore and it won't hurt as badly.

He told me he's going to hide. Under his bed. Don't tell Dad.

Exceeding expectations

When The Boy finished kindergarten last spring, he had fulfilled all the requirements to be promoted to first grade - one of which was to know ten sight words.

During our first conference in the first grade, back in early November, we learned that he did not even register at a first grade level in reading. Two months into the school year, he was not at a level that should have allowed him to pass kindergarten.

So we got to work at home. Each night The Boy brought home a book and read it to us. We got him extra help at school. By the end of the school year, he was bringing home two fairly difficult books each night, and would read one to me and one to his dad.

During this past nine week period, the light bulb switched on. Not only in reading, but in his writing abilities, math, and behavior, too. Of all the growing I've seen him do in the past seven years, this was the most phenomenal progression to witness.

I cried when I read his report card. He scored excellent on all of his essential skills tests. But in reading? He is now at the second grade level.

His reward was this motorcycle that he has wanted since last summer.

Excessive?

Maybe.

But we didn't just give it to him.

He earned it.

He's priceless

I picked The Boy up from school yesterday and we went to the zoo for the afternoon to celebrate his last day of First Grade. On the way home from the zoo, about four hours later, he said his ear was bleeding. It's coming from the canal. He told me he heard a "pop" in the morning and that his ear hurt a bit.

My cousin is an MD at a major NYC hospital. He happens to be visiting and we went to a BBQ last night to see him before they head back home. I asked him to look in the ear.

He said it looks a little irritated, and it could be related to the tube falling out. Naturally we are to keep an eye on it and call his ENT if it continues.

After he finished his impromptu exam, The Boy looked him straight in the eye and said, "Okay how much are you going to charge for that?"

I finally learned to say no

My old boss called me. The conversation began with "Are you still working for that square burger company?"

The gist of it is that he wants me to take a two week vacation and come to resort town to a) finish the year 2008 (I KNOW! THAT WAS MONTHS AGO!) and b) train current head bitch.

We conversed for the better part of my commute to an appointment and I got the finer points of what is going on. I gave him my take on what I feel is top priority and the direction in which I would move, and told him to have New Head Bitch email me with questions.

She did. I gave her my suggestions. Start here, look here, compare this, etc.

"I went to 'some stupid university' where I got 'some degree' and I know how to do this!" was basically the reply.

I replied and cc'd the boss - 'Clearly you have a better handle on the situation than I do. I don't see how I can help you."

She emailed me a few days later with an apology, explaining that Boss made her cry and was pissed that she made it sound like I didn't know what I was doing for the past 18 years, etc.

I don't know if she expected me to make her feel better or what.

I didn't even respond.