R E S PE C T....

ok I have a bazillion things to write about, the grape gondolas, being a semi empty nester, the new school year, but right now I just want to wring that teenager's thick neck. I received the THREATNING letter from Mt. San Antonio College. No, he isn't residing there, but way back in July when I was the parent piranah and plague ridden, the teenager went to Junior Olympic water polo games with the UOP 18 & under team. In an effort to be accomodating, I lent my beloved momstew Honda to the teenager and his curly topped fellow player to drive to Pomona and use at JO's while the Mister and I came separately and definitely made every effort not to spread our leprosy and plague-ridden- really old and dinosaur presence known to the teenager and any cool people that might be in his immediate environment. Phew! Well, upon its return home, my beloved Honda was filthy and full of garbage and icky and smelled of the absolutely fabulous hookah pipe belonging to said curly haired friend. Breathing deeply, I did ask the teenager to clean out the interior and was there anything else I needed to know. Nope, trip was good, etc. Wrong red rider, license plate was bent, paint divot was out of the bumper, and today the threatning letter from Mt. San Antonio College. Yep, they received a parking ticket because the curly haired wonder and my teenager chose not to park in the designated areas. With fines it will be $86. I read the teenager the riot act. He assured me that the curly haired friend was supposed to take care of it, and so no reason to inform me. I talked responsibility and respect for others, especially your plague and leprosy ridden parents that are trying very hard to give you lots of privileges and space. I was met with, "Stop being so melodramatic."

I want to wring his neck.

16 Candles? How about 54...

Today , my friends, is my birthday. Yahoo! 54 years ago I arrived 2 1/2 weeks late much to my poor mom's chagrin. Today was also the first day of school and my class came tumbling into the room full of enthusiasm and just a little wide eyed with what to expect from the 4th grade. Today was also our Back to School orientation with parents. I made my 30 minute presentation assuring the parents that I don't eat children, assign pages and pages of homework, or make their lives miserable on purpose. I do use hundreds of cartoon voices, act out most new concepts, tell wonderful and witty stories about my family in order to teach a life skill, and generally "edutain". Yes, I will lay on a desk, do a quick chortle dance, or tell jokes to keep them focused and learning. It's my birthday and the Mister gave me a funny card and beautiful gold earrings. My oldest surprised me and called me on the way to school this morning. I love to hear his voice and know he's got a show tonight with his band and hear that work is going okay. The teenager who is now officially known as the college guy, forgot. He's a little busy at water polo hell week. He's got 4 practices a day for a total of 10 hours, so....he gets grace. We had fresh tomatoes in our salad tonight and my new laptop for school arrived via our wonderful Parents/Teachers Club. All in all, I think I love being 54, more than being flippin' 53. Here's looking at you, watermom, you're okay.

Another chapter

Well, today was the day. The journey we began in September 1988 that took us from Buena Park, Cali to Lodi, entered the college chapter. Yes, that perpetually fun-loving hyperactive boy entered his dorm. I looked back over the past 18 years and realized it's been a wild ride. From temporary custody of that brown eyed boy, to his adoption day, and now a UOP student and D1 water polo player. God answers prayer and He answers in a mighty way. We received an email from the coach telling me that my teenager was on the team and he would correct the roster on the UOP website. Amazing God! The teenager is in his residence hall awaiting a physical and Hell Week. He forgot his bowling ball, (go figure), his TV remote, and of course his medical insurance card. I've designated a plastic basket for his forgotten items and will add things and deliver when he's ready for me to do so. God is good! Thank you for my boys. They are fun, and entertaining. They are both bright and creative. They are silly and dorky and sometimes so incredibly sweet that I wonder why me? I love them and again I say thank you God for answered prayer.

not on the roster

I am holding my breath, praying, and in shock. My teenager has worked so hard this summer, 6-7 hours a day playing waterpolo for UOP. We were sent a package with everything for him to report to fall camp on the 16th of this month. He has trained, focused, and worked his behind off. We have corresponded with the coach via email and bought his traveling sports coat and have not heard a word otherwise. The papers we received confirmed that he was on the roster as number 19. Today I checked the UOP website and their polo roster. He is not on the roster. There is another name that was never on the roster. I am sick to my stomach. I cannot believe what I am seeing. Again, it's a blow. Yes, I have called the coach at 2 telephone numbers and left messages. Yes, I have emailed him. There has been no answer. God, what now? Please, Lord, don't let it be true. He has overcome so much and come so far. I know you are in control and you know the plan. I know it's not about me and I know I'm not supposed to live through my kids. I don't want him to be disappointed or devastated. Please, God, don't let it be true.

Getting Older

I realize I haven't posted in a while. We've been experiencing computer "issues" at our house which means that I am now sharing my laptop with the teenager. That in itself should tell you that MySpace, AIM, MSN, etc., has taken prescedence over any mindless activity that I may want to do or explore. Deep breath,....ANYWAY, It's the end of my summer "vacation", and the flippin watermom is back to school for the mandatory meetings, inservices, etc., on Monday. I will also have to de-muck my room, as the black mold is dripping down its walls. That's another story.

It is my summer routine that I cram all my yearly medical visits into my last week of summer off time. I do not want to complicate summer busyness with doctor stuff. Needless to say, I bit the bullet, saw my Internist, got the good news/bad news about my age old battle with cholesterol, weight, thyroid, etc. I also got a referral to the podiatrist because of my sad feet. As a teacher and a reformed exerciser, I put a lot of steps on these 53 year old feet. They are very sad and often very angry with me. I knew that they had plantar fasciitis and that my rather inflamed big toe joint on my right foot was arthritic. I just wanted to help them out a bit with the proper orthotic or correct shoe. You know, a very simple solution to the aging issue as I depend on those two feet so much. Sheesh! Dr. Podiatrist happily injected my left heel with a cortisone shot, which, being naive, I assumed would only hurt upon the initial injection. NOT! Hobbling for 24 hours is not the way I'm used to dealing. It's too slow for me and I have things to do. My manicurist, face scraper, officially called, esthetician, Traci, promised me that in 48 hours I would be shouting Hallelujah and wondering why I didn't get that shot sooner. Ummm.....72 hours and I'm not shouting. I'm not hobbling, but no smiling yet for my tootsies. The big old arthritic toe joint sadly is supposed to receive lots of Ibuprofen to stop its swelling. The question is, with other joint issues and a migraine or two, how do those little blue gel caps know to anti inflammatory my big toe and foot? It's a puzzle. In the meantime, I'm wearing a silly Birkenstock sandal that will be acceptable on my school campus while also marveling at the fact that they don't look like my hippie Birkestocks of the 70's.

Next up is the lovely "growing flippin older" topic, cholesterol. Eyeww! I just can't seem to make it go down without the help of statin drugs, ie: Lipitor, Crestor, Pravachol. You see, they make me a little nuts, literally. The leg pain and joint pain and calf pain is nuts, and when I don't take them, the pain goes away. It also rattles and rolls my little brain. Believe me, post menopausal women do not need any more drugs that make them more forgetful, rattled, or confused. When I don't take them, I can actually focus, feel more in control, and less forgetful. That's very important because my children have promised that if I get really wacky, they will shoot me and put me out of my misery, collect the insurance, my Willie Mays autographed baseball, and my artwork. The teenager of course wants all the Mister's guns. I think the oldest is looking at our cash value and real estate since Vanilla Jesus won't help him win the Lottery. Well, Dr. Internist has said that I may try fish oil capsules to and lower my cholesterol, overall and bad, to a reasonable 200 overall and 110 bad. Do you know how many capsules of the super concentrated COSTCO fish oil caps you have to take? Bazillions! Well actually, the scoop is you have to ingest 4 of those humongus caps two times a day. Yes, I am attracting cats to the house, and swimming underwater is no longer a problem. I also have a real longing for a saltwater aquarium.

The next "you are getting older" doctor is sending me for a dexascan because, you know, family history and all, no horomone replacement therapy, and I'm shrinking just slightly. That is a huge bummer. At 5'2 1/2", this watermom needs to stand tall as best she can in the world.

You know, I think it was Mark Twain that said something like this, "Growing old is the pits, but the alternative is a lot worse." You know I love to paraphrase. Keep smiling all you 20 somethings, you got a ways to go!