reasons I should not be allowed out of the house
May 12, 2008, 11:20 pmSomehow, I ended up with a baby deer on my lap tonight, trying to figure out in the 3/4 mile trip from my uncle’s office to my yard how the hell I would explain to my husband the series of events that caused “taking a baby bottle” over to help with the baby deer to turn into bringing the deer home wrapped in a jacket on my lap.
Four hours later and the deer is safely in the passenger seat of the local for-profit vermin remover, except he’s going off the books and risking his job to drive the baby deer out to the country to the wildlife rehabber.
I used to be the person you brought wildlife to-squirrels, birds, racoons, kittens. I’d take them all, stay up all night with syringes and pedialite. I’d cry when they died, and celebrate every graduation day into the woods. The baby deer tonight (Avery named it Rainbow, and told me to take it away since I wouldn’t let her pet it) hammered it home for me. I’m through rescuing. I’ll spend the day on the phone, I’ll pay gas for the guy to drive 40 miles to get the baby, I’ll advise and teach people to feed and donate boxes or baskets or crates. But I can’t be the mama anymore. Oh, I had a moment of weakness when the little thing walked up to me and buried her head in my shirt.
But then I thought about bed, and sleep, and deer ticks, and babies.
The first number we called wanted 99.00 to remove the animal and take it to rehab. I said no thanks, and called around and around and around, and I was on the phone with my (other) uncle when the for-profit guy called back.
“I just kept thinking about you”, he said. “I knew all the way up here you wouldn’t find anyone to come. So I called the rehabber and asked her to cover my gas. I’ll get fired if the company finds out so when they call to check in tomorrow don’t tell them I was here”
I slipped him a 20 and offered to make him coffee, which he declined and promised to call us with an update in the morning.
“I used to be so gung ho for this kind of service”, I said. “I don’t know what happened to me”
“Me too!” he said. “I think it’s a combination of getting old and seeing too many of them die. I just get too sad anymore. And now my kids get sad too.”
He says he’s looking for a way out of the job, but I saw that gleam in his eye. He spent two hours after we called him, turning it over in his mind. In the end he couldn’t leave it up to chance. He knew he was our best shot and he showed up to do the job, driving 45 minutes to get here and heading back his direction and past his house at least 90 miles. I almost feel like I should stay up and keep him company on the phone but he’s probably got his own wife for that job.
Safe travels, little orphan deer and saintly rescue man.
side note, and why I will always love my friend BJ:
“BJ, I have a deer in my lap help me find someone to call”
“how did you get a deer in your lap”
my uncle needed a bottle and I took it over there, and I got railroaded, and I had to come home with the deer
“wait. your uncle had the deer. How did YOU end up with the deer at your house?” Why did YOU bring the deer to your house?”
BJ, thank you for keeping me honest.
—Girl | no comments
(posted in the Day To Day category)
verdict
May 5, 2008, 11:18 amIn this blog style my links don’t show up a different color! It’s like easter! hunt for the links while I make some new css!
—Girl | 2 comments
(posted in the Day To Day category)
two things before bed
May 4, 2008, 10:09 pm1) what the HELL is this?
I had to relocate it when we were hedging today (read: trying to save our plants from being suffocated by FoX Grape vines) and the thing would not fly away and when I disturbed him he sort of squirted neon yellow liquid everywhere. Finally I had to pick off the stem he was resting on and carry it to another part of the yard. So weird. I can’t find him online. Anyone?
And also. Filed under Hell Has Frozen Over:
This lasted all afternoon, and somehow her skin did not burn off her body because of his proximity and no babies were thrown to the ground for slobbering.
—Girl | 1 comment
(posted in the Baby A, Day To Day, Baby J category)
home again
May 1, 2008, 11:44 amWe liberated TeenHer from the pokey last night after our grueling family session. (”um- sorry to interrupt, but do you guys always talk to each other so calmly?” said the 30-something MSW counselor, who was very obviously a stoner and who had to keep from laughing when I said “I’m going to be honest, I’m for the legalization of pot. I just don’t want her smoking it while she’s on bi-polar meds”)
We stopped by Costco because it seemed like we were at least a hundred dollars too rich and what else do you do after you pick your kid up from the nuthouse? Paul Rudd dopelganger (of the famous bi-annual Page-Luft fight about oversharing in the blog) was there ringing people up at the snack bar. He had on a hair net which reduced his attractiveness by about a thousand percent.
After TeenHer kissed the floor of her room for a while and reveled in being allowed to get up from her seat whenever she wanted, she had a minor panic attack about how this will all affect her high school career and her chance at academic scholarships and what kind of jobs she’ll be able to get with all this horror on her Permanent Record. One thing I can tell you is that when I was 14 and crazy, I did not ever one time think about the long term ramifications of the shit I went through. So she’s a step ahead of me there, and if we can get her to consider these consequences BEFORE the actions, I think we’ll be OK.
Seriously though, what 14 year old thinks “how will this affect my chances at an academic scholarship?” when she’s being screamed at by a staff member and is about to lose her temper? I’m not even sure I know many 30 year olds who do that.
So we’re really just trying to get her to give herself a break already, and let us handle the school and scholarships and stuff.
I made her a playlist called “mom therapy” and when we picked her up the first thing I gave her was her Ipod. She’s been listening to the Once soundtrack nonstop and I’m rediscovering very much I love both the album and the movie. Literally whenever I hear the music tears come to my eyes.
“Raise your hopeful voice
you have a choice”
If you haven’t seen the movie and don’t own the music, I require you to do both, right now.
—Girl | no comments
(posted in the Teenagers, Day To Day category)
and then the other shoe dropped
April 28, 2008, 1:11 pmAllright. I think I’ve been doing a bang up job recently. With the exception of the moment where I picked up the powerwheels jeep and flung across the room yesterday, I’ve just been muddling through the days. Over-tending the plants and trying in vain to rid myself of the horrible head cold we picked up from Sick-Filet indoor play area last week. Working the phones round the clock to put a plan in place for when TeenHer comes home. (in case you were wondering, blue cross “blue options” does not cover any inpatient residential treatment of any kind. Vaccinate against the chicken pox and influenza all you want for free, but god help you if your kid has a drug problem or a mental illness.)
So I just would like to say what the HELL. Isn’t there some rule about how many kids can require intense energy at once?
The dietician at the local health clinic believes that Jack has an Oral Aversion disorder or a texture disorder or something because it’s Not Normal that he won’t chew and swallow food.
“but he eats grapes through the mesh feeder all the time”, I said.
“Okay, but that’s still sucking. What we’re looking for is chewing and swallowing. Will he grab food from your mouth and chew on it?”
Uh, no. Give him a piece of food, and he’ll look at it, throw it down, and pick up a toy to chew on. Put food in his mouth, and he’ll gag on it and manipulate his tongue until he can spit it out the front.
This is not a total shock, I suppose, since we did drive him to Orlando at 4 weeks old to the Oral Motor Clinic where they diagnosed him with severe oral motor weakness.
Still. The sheer amount of driving we’re looking at here for various specialist appointment, psychiatric evaluations, therapy, etc will double our gas budget. And to continue this kid on hypoallergenic infant formula is going to quadruple our grocery budget. Medication co-pays are coming out of our savings account right now.
I’d get a job, except I’M GOING TO HAVE TO DRIVE THESE KIDS ALL OVER CREATION EVERY WEEK! When would I work?
Third shift, I guess. Maybe second shift at Home Depot. (insert gratuitous whining about the economy here)
Today is not a good day.
—Girl | 1 comment
(posted in the Day To Day, Coping (Cocktail Hour), Baby J category)
Therapy
April 26, 2008, 11:55 amI have a bad habit of keeping a running tally in my head of what I’ve spent and saved. For instance, yesterday I bought 20 dollars worth of lottery tickets and 25 dollars worth of junk food. I won 3.00 back on a lottery ticket. Then, I did NOT have to drive to Jacksonville to be with my daughter while she was admitted for a 72 hour hold at a mental health facility (thank you, Baker Act?) so I saved about 10 dollars.
Today, I re-potted all of my plants in new pots with rocks, relocated some herbs to an ‘herb corner’ in my flowerbed, and installed a sort of mini raised bed herb garden planter at the base of my back steps. I probably spent 2.00 in potting soil, but I must have saved 150 dollars at least by doing that instead of going to a therapist, and probably at least 40 bucks that I would have spent on liquor.
See what I mean? It never ends. Last week I reformatted my hard drive and reinstalled my OS and every single program I own, instead of spending 600.00 on a new computer. But I did spend three days on the project. Did I come out ahead? How much is my time worth?
I’m glad I saved the money on the computer, because our free supply of hypoallergenic formula has run out and my son still does not eat food. I promise I give him food all. the. time. But he does not eat, instead gags and sticks out his tongue until I remove the offending food from his mouth. So we’re going to be spending about 11.00 A DAY to feed the little shit until we can convince him that french fries are not the devil.
I’m kidding. God, can’t the Internet take a joke? I’ve been feeding him chocolate, not french fries..
Here’s the not funny part:
TeenHer is in a county mental health facility. Events transpired at school yesterday that required the school to Baker Act her, which means they can put her on a 72 hour hold in a facility without my consent. I will say that I agree with their action. I have spoken with TeenHer and we’ve told her we love her, and we’ll see her soon. I’m not allowed to visit until Monday or they spring her, whichever comes first.
I’m not going to talk much about it here. Just please keep TeenHer in your thoughts right now. She needs love and support.
—Girl | 5 comments
(posted in the Teenagers, Day To Day, Coping (Cocktail Hour) category)
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