Yesterday our town's news stations were covering a tragic death that happened over the weekend. A high school senior girl was shot in the chest early evening on Saturday. As the day wore on, yesterday, more information was being released about how this tragedy happened. What became immediately clear, to me, was that the kids involved were trying to cover their own asses before taking action to save this young girls life.

It made me think about the kind of situations our kids will be in when they grow up and how standing up for what is right, no matter what the consequences will be, is the choice I want our kids to choose. I thought that this would be a story I wanted Anna to know and to understand what choices she will eventually have but what choices I would expect from her.

This story was playing on the radio while Tony was driving the kids home from school yesterday so when I started to tell Anna about it she knew some of the details. I explained to her that as a teenager there will be situations she will get into that Tony and I would not approve of. However, that does not mean she should try and cover it up, but that she should always do the right thing and know, that no matter what, I will always love her. I went on to explained how different this young girl's life could have been, if the minute she saw there was a gun, she left. Or if there had just been someone at that house that would have immediately called 911 the story might have a different ending.

And then we watched Intervention...as a family...

While putting Anna to bed, at the 8:30 commercial break, I kissed her goodnight and told her that I loved her so much. Anna hugged my neck hard and said that she knew, but that even if I loved her to death, if she ever did drugs she couldn't live in our house. I hugged her back and said yes, baby, you are right there are consequences for bad decisions, but I hope you will not make that choice. As I was walking to her door, right before I shut it, she said, and you won't raise my baby either.

The indoctrination is working, "I ain't raisin' no babies".

Nothing screams awesome parenting like dropping your kid off at school and realizing you forgot it was free dress day. I saw the kids in jeans before Anna did and I actually held my breath hoping she wouldn't notice that they weren't wearing uniform khakis. No such luck. Instead, I spent the rest of the day, at work, remembering how I dropped my baby girl off at school with tears in her eyes and watched her try to be cool and not cry.

Mother of the Year, I am not....but bearer of all mom-guilt, yes, that crown goes to me.

Before I get any emails about how unsafe a trampoline is without the safety net let me just say this. I don't care. I am heartless, mean, and do not care about the safety of my children, because if I did I would have a net, helmets, knee pads, and a first alert necklace portrayed in the picture. But they had the best time! Tony and I watched from the warmth of our living room while Anna and the neighborhood kids tried to jump in the snow and ice that had accumulated on our trampoline. They decided to do this after walking the creek behind our neighborhood and trying to use a sled on our street's 20 degree incline.

They had to work together to get into an upright position because if one person stood up the ice would make the other two slide toward the middle. They were falling, screaming, and laughing the entire time while I just silently prayed no one got hurt.

Every once in a while the three of them would get up and there would be a couple of quick jumps. I found out later they also had the feeling of suspense hinking the trampoline was going to break through. But they spent the majority of the time rolling around and while trying to keep the snow and ice from going down their pants.

Last night I hooked up Anna to her IV and then started cooking dinner, Parmesan Garlic Chicken, a favorite in our house. I also made Vesuvio Potatoes, another favorite, but they didn't turn out so great because I was interrupted and then had a slight freak out. (if you just want the recipe click here)

My husband had gone to the store to get some ingredients for the cupcakes I am making for my stepson's birthday party. Before he left he and I had gone through the tedious steps to make sure there was no air in the IV line, not a simple job for lay person. The IV pump is super sensitive and even though you think all the air is out it will not turn on until you have touched your nose three times while turning in a half circle and holding your right foot up in the air. Somehow the pump knows this has been completed because mysteriously after being turned on and off and just after paging the home health nurse it turns on.

Anyway, Anna was hooked up and she was watching TV with her stepsister. I was prepping and cooking. (Onions cooking in bacon grease before throwing in canned green beans smells awesome!) Suddenly I hear my name being yelled. Anna has decided she must immediately go to the bathroom and they had gotten the IV cord tangled up in a plant that fell over onto them as they were pushing the pump to the bathroom. I righted the plant let out a huge sigh and told Anna that I better not have to get air out of the line.

Next thing I know the pump is beeping and I start toward the bathroom with massive attitude and exasperation. That quickly changed into panic. Anna had gotten tangled up in the power cord and blood was flowing from her chest into the IV tube and up toward the bag. I FREAKED! I started yelling what the hell?! asking her why she left the power cord on top of her IV line?! Couldn't she feel it pull on her chest?!

Shaking I called my husband who was on his way home and told me to clamp her line and unhook her. He came in as I was flushing her central line and trying not to throw up. I realize that it was probably nothing and that back flush in an IV is normal but there is just something about seeing your kids blood flowing out of their body that will make you lose your shit,or maybe that is just me.

She got a stern lecture on the seriousness of her central line and how we are no longer in the hospital where someone can come quickly to save the day. I was crying, she was crying, my stepdaughter was crying, and my husband is taking control of the situation. I ended up apologizing and telling them both that moms are suppose to not freak out like that but that I loved them so much and that I was really scared. I think Anna now gets that her central line and IV is not to be treated like a purse. Something to sling around and play with.

Back to the kitchen. My potato wedges had been boiling to long and some of them would have made great mashed potatoes. I drained them anyway and drizzled olive oil and seasoning over all then put them into the oven to crisp.

The chicken turned out great and how could green beans cooked and simmered in garlic salt, pepper, two tablespoons of bacon grease with lightly browned onions be bad?

Easy Parmesan Garlic Chicken (from Good Seasonings ad for Italian Dressing Mix)
printable recipe

• 1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• 1 envelope Italian Dressing Mix
  
• 1/2 tsp. garlic powder
• 1/2 cup of Miracle Whip (optional and not included in the original recipe but so good with it)
• 6 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves (about 2 lbs)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Mix cheese, garlic powder, and dressing mix together.
Rinse and pat dry chicken and then lightly spread Miracle Whip overall.
Roll and coat in cheese mixture and place in a shallow baking dish.

My daughter's finger saga morphed quickly into a melodrama. On Friday, after the doctor rechecked her finger and I asked for outpatient IV therapy, she went to the brand new Children's Hospital and had her PICC line placed. This is not a quick procedure and since she has inherited my puny veins the first line was not successful but as luck would have it she has two arms.

We left the hospital at 6pm and the home health care nurse came to our house four hours later. It was then that I learned she would not be coming to our house every eight hours because she was going to teach us to run the IV of Vancomycin. Fun!

Anna got comfortable and our puppy kept her company for the two hour drip. This routine was short lived because on Sunday her finger was worse. We called her pediatrician who told us to go to the emergency room.

The redness had started to streak past her first knuckle and the black was getting larger. In addition to her finger, her PICC line was causing a red streak up her arm and really hurt Anna if you touched her upper arm. Based mostly on the fact that her PICC line was thought to be infected she was admitted.

We spent Sunday through Friday in the hospital. Her finger continued to get worse even with the increased dosage of Vancomycin and an additional broad spectrum antibiotic, Rosefrin. We left the hospital not knowing what she really has or how she got it.

She had an MRI on Tuesday that showed no infection in the bone, thank God. I had never had nor seen an MRI machine up close; those things are loud.

Her IVs were not stable because she has something called mechanical phlebitis and therefore she was stuck with needles more than her psyche could handle. She was beginning to freak out when they had to draw blood and when she saw them come in to flush her IV before and after the every three hour Vancomycin treatment she would start screaming and crying. It was horrible. At one point my mother and I had to hold her down and she screamed so much she threw up, which made me about throw up.

When they realized her second IV was going bad they scheduled her to be sedated so she could have another PICC line inserted. I pulled the mom card and begged for a central line instead. They decided that a central line would be best due to her weak veins and while they were under they cut out the necrotic part of her finger.

There was much drama with the lack of bedside manner with the hand surgeon who made it seem like keeping her finger might be in jeopardy. But after taking out the black part on Wednesday her finger started to improve. They cultured it and it came back positive for staph. They do not know at this time what strain of staph but her treatment is 600mg of Vancomycin every 12 hours for 2-4 weeks.

Right now we are on a 4 to 4 dosage but we will be moving that at half hour increments until we get to 6am and 6pm. Her finger already looks better, gross but better.

Janelle, your experience is so similar and thank you so much for your comments. And OHN, it really is amazing how prevelant MRSA is and how scary and dangerous too. Our family had so much suppport through this ordeal. We recently became official members at our church and my husband and I have said over and over again how wonderful our small group is. Each person came up to see Anna and the ones with kids brought their children so Anna could play X-Box with them.

My husband's ex-wife was great! She brought the kids every night and let them all play and walk around the hospital floor with Anna. My mother came every day and even spent the night with me. But the real trooper has been my husband. He came every morning with coffee for me and hot chocolate for Anna. He was there right after work and then even during work hours. He has been the one with the calm and reasoning voice, gently reminding me that the doctors never actually said she could go home Monday, then Tuesday, and especially Wednesday after the central line was placed. He was there and Anna and I both knew it.

It is now 8:20am Saturday morning and I have been up for four hours and home less than 24. Thank you so much for your prayers, support, phone calls, and comments. Remember, wash your hands!

After being on two antibiotics for over 48 hours her finger does not look any better. In fact, her finger looks worse. Since she does not have a fever and she feels fine I did not want her to be admitted to the hospital. Can you imagine a non-sick kid stuck in a hospital room? Call me selfish but I was not up for that. But she needs to be put on an IV of antibiotics for the treatment of MRSA so we are setting up a home health care nurse to come to our house three times a day to administer.

We also are trying to schedule a bone scan to rule out an infection in her bones. This should be done today.

It is amazing how one small little cut can turn into something so gruesome. I am just so thankful we did not wait any longer. Another thing to be thankful for is that she is in no pain. The finger only hurts when she accidentally bumps it. That's it for now we go up to our local hospital at 2:30 to have the IV pick line inserted, she is going to love that. Poor baby.

If this picture doesn't drive the message home for kids to wash their hands I don't know what will. I think it would be a good idea to post this picture in every elementary bathroom as a reminder that washing your hands with warm water and soap while singing Happy Birthday will help prevent the spread of MRSA and other general nastiness. Because the above picture of a finger with something that looks like gangrene is my eight year old daughter's ring finger on her left hand. I took this with my phone while waiting for her Rx at Target and trying not to throw up looking at it. (Holes completely freak me out)

It started out as a small blister then a week later looked like a blood vessel and then morphed into looking like she had been bit by a Brown Recluse spider. A week ago Wednesday night we took her to Urgent Care and they said it was not a spider bite but it was infected and resembled Herpetic Whitlow, which is not treatable with antibiotics. But because there was an infection they gave her a Rx for Bactrim to take two times a day and soak her finger in Epsom Salt.

Five days later her finger was looking worse so I took her to her pediatrician. The doctor x-rayed her finger to be sure the infection had not spread to her bone, it hasn't. Her doctor also ruled out Herpetic Whitow, thank God, and is sure it is the antibiotic resistant strand of Staph called MRSA. Lovely, but at least I can now stop the little voice in my head that was freaking out about Herpes and how in the hell she could have gotten it.

She is now on an additional antibiotic for MRSA and continuing the Bactrim. I take her back to the doctor Friday morning and I really hope this new antibiotic is working because I do not see a change. We picked up yogurt last night because I am sure all of her good flora growing in her intestine will be making a fast exit with the heavy dose of antibiotics.

My Public Service Announcement: Wash Your Hands!

Isn't it weird that my eight year old thinks she knows so much more than me and that I don't need to remind her because oh my gosh, she already knows, yet she can't seem to brush her teeth? She is going to love it when I have to physically sit on her and brush them for her. Bet she will feel real grown up then. Grrrrr. Nasty.

Some things have changed in our post divorce family. I am not going to say we are now blended or that we are going to be co-parenting in a wonderful kumbaya way but all our baby's mommas were together in one house. For the first time ever, my husband's ex-wife was sitting on my couch eating birthday cake and telling me her tales of horror dealing with my husband's stepmother. I don't think my husband said much all night and when asked later about something that was said he seems to have blocked out most of the night. I thought it went great, he would like to never do it again and was a little blown away when I suggested to- let's just call her G.U, as in Golden Uterus-GU that we do this again for their son's birthday.

It was a bit surreal. I don't know what came over me but in the middle of icing a chocolate cake I made Monday night on a whim, I asked my husband what GU was doing for their daughter's birthday Tuesday night. He told me nothing because they were going to celebrate with GU's family Wednesday night. It was at that moment I did it, I made the call. While he was on the computer I got his cell phone, looked up the ex's phone number, and called her, from our home phone. She had to be reminded who I was, not in a dismissive way but more of a is the sky falling way. She agreed to come and we would see them after dinner. And then she did what she always does, she called back just to confirm and ask if she could bring anything. My husband looked like you would expect someone to look when they literally see, before their eyes, two worlds colliding. He commented that now she knows our home phone number. Then he asked me how much I have had to drink.

On the night the Golden Uterus was to arrive I made sure the entire house was picked up and floors were swept. Tony had multiple glasses of wine and Anna kept asking when GU was going to be able to see her room. I was pretty calm, not nervous at all, I just wanted GU to be nice and not act like she was Mother of the Year. She was and she didn't. The kids were excited way more than they usually are when they first come back from their mom's house. The littlest one was all lovey-dovey with me which was pretty weird. He kept hugging my leg and kissing it. Then he wanted me to hold him and when I picked hum up he proceeded to pat my back and squeeze my neck over and over. The only weird moment was when I was taking pictures, no one knew where to stand or who to stand by. After serving the cake and ice-cream the kids went into the playroom and we went into the den.

Within my husband's family there have been some issues with his dad's wife and her daughters. It is not pretty and it is completely wrong and downright hateful. In the past while we were dating and first married I was told all the problems were GU's fault and I believed them. They made some great points and I never heard her side of the story but now the exact same things are happening to me and our family. It is ugly and hurtful and this is where my stepkid's mom won me over, she called my husband concerned that my daughter was being mistreated by her ex-mother-in-law. Wow! maybe she actually does have a golden uterus. So we all talked and tried to come up with a plan to deal with the manipulation and unequal treatment of my daughter and my stepkids. During this time there were some moments when GU was obviously saddened and emotional. She said that 90% of their fighting had been about Tony's stepfamily and how they treated her and their family. I assured her that it was no different now even though I was led to believe she had been the problem. We now know who the real problem is. The only snarky thing she did was to tell me that I can quit cooking and baking so much because Tony has never had that before so I don't need to try so hard. I let that go.

At the end of the night she was given a tour of our house and was able to see her children's bedrooms. This is where I saw a change, very slight change but there all the same. I do not know what she expected. Did she think I would have kept them in a closet? A stark room without any color or accessories? I am not sure but I think she was hurt. Maybe it was because her daughter's room was clean because she asked why it wasn't at her house. I told her the rule in our house is they can play and ride their bikes as soon as their bed is made and their floor is picked up enough to run a vacuum through. GU said that we need to communicate more so that the rules are the same at each house. Now it was my turn to look up to see if the sky was falling.

Golden Uterus has pulled some pretty destructive stunts. Her frivolous custody challenge cost us over $8000. Her motion to modify did not change the custody arrangement. It did open our family up to scrutiny from social workers only to have them confirm what I already knew, I am not a child abuser she was a vindictive ex-spouse. This weekend was my stepdaughter's slumber party for her birthday and my daughter was invited, which is a post of its own. These are steps in the right direction, I guess, but I am taking this slow, real slow.

My daughter likes to bring her lunch from home instead of buying a meal from the cafeteria. Anyone who knows me, knows I would much rather write a check, for the entire year, then get up five minutes earlier to make her lunch.

Kindergarten was almost 80% school cafeteria, but then she realized that her stepsister, the super picky eater, brought her lunch and first grade became 90% lunches from home. (Damn my super responsible, caring, sympathetic, loving husband for letting the cat out of the bag) So this year, second grade, I didn't even bother writing a check for the cafeteria in the hope I would be off the hook and able to sleep five minutes longer. I sucked it up and decided to not be lazy and go ahead and pack her a lunch everyday. I even bought an assortment of little note cards I can periodically stick in her lunch box and hopefully brighten her day.

The school year started off great. Can you believe it has been a month already? I made four loaves of homemade bread to use for sandwiches and went to Sam's to stock up on other lunch goodies. This is where I made one of my first errors. Chex Mix is not an acceptable snack. When Anna told me this I was like, WHHUUU?? She told me Chex Mix has too much salt and she can't have it. Again, WHUUU?? I thought I was finally going to take my, "peanut butter allergies and bee allergies are both serious so is the school going to forbid bees on the playground?", rant straight to the school board. But my husband told me to just ask the teacher and stop yelling at him I decided to ask her teacher if it was true that Anna couldn't have Chex Mix for a snack. Needless to say, her teacher had no idea where Anna had gotten that information. I do, her "friends". Apparently, it is not cool to have Chex Mix. FYI, granola bars and fruit snacks are the IN snack, and they have less salt. Right, uh-huh, obviously these second graders need to read Eat This, Not That. Funny thing about this is that Anna picked out some granola bars at the grocery store and they are the generic Always Save. When I was a kid that was a big no, no.

My second mistake was sending leftover Hungarian Ghoulash in a soup thermos. "I couldn't eat it. They said it was gross." I was then informed that only soup, and it must be chicken noodle, or spaghetti can be sent in a thermos. I didn't bother asking the teacher about that one.

My third mistake, and where I have decide that this is not a hill worth fighting for, was when I thought I would surprise her with a turkey tortilla wrap. The Internet says wraps are the perfect sandwich to break up the monotony of PB&Js (not that she can even bring peanut butter). I made the wrap awesome! I put red bell peppers, her favorite and used veggie cream cheese for the dressing. When I asked her if she liked my surprise for lunch she proceeded to tell me that NO, they wouldn't even sit by her when they saw her lunch. They got up and moved to another table. And why did I do that to her?

Okay, forget it, from now on it will be Instant Lipton Chicken Noodle Soup, like that doesn't have salt! a granola bar, grapes, and a Capri Sun. Like I said, not a battle worth fighting for, though I would love to take on these little "friends". By the way, saying they're just jealous does NOT work, but thanks anyway. Just kill me now.

I am trying, seriously, I really am trying to not get caught up in the whole Super Mommy Wars that goes on in elementary school. But I am a dweller, a big time dweller. What breed of dog is it that never lets go of its prey? Mastif? Rott? Well whatever, I fixate and don't let go until I have talked my way through it and tortured all of my friends who let me into their dimly lit offices or answered my calls even when they see my number on caller ID. (you know who you are, and I apologize, but too much medication will effect my job performance, sorry)

Anyway, I am still reading The White Trash Mom Handbook, which I would highly recommend you buy unless you are one of the Muffia, and then I think someone should have the nerve to highlight passages and slip it under your windshield wiper while you are propositioning schmoozing the principal.

My previous post,where I threw myself my own pity party, and unknowingly joined the fray of the Mommy Wars because I expressed my jealousy for SAHMs, was written on the fly. At the time I just had this feeling that I was not measuring up and that I was letting my daughter down. This was coming from all the regret I had for working so much when she was younger and not being around. Now that I am no longer going to China six times a year I want to be as active as I can in her life, but I still keep my job. That is why yesterday was so painful for me, maybe. Do I wear that guilt and jealousy on my shoulder? Does my attitude exude contempt for all forms of social climbing? I am not sure, but there is something, definitely something, that makes it difficult for me to join in with the other moms at my daughter's school.

Yesterday was horrible, and yes I am dwelling, and since my husband has turned an unsympathetic ear, and he is the only person I can hold captive to hear me out, I am blogging about it. My other 'go to people' have either heard me out and have moved on with their lives, or they didn't answer their phone when I called yesterday. I felt just like I did at my sixth grade graduation dance. The same dance that I go a new "do" for. A "do" that required a perm that made me look just like a blonde Orphan Annie. An orphan with Battlestar Galactica glasses wearing a kick-ass Espirit sailor top with parachute pants and matching Keds. I spent that night watching all my friends get asked to dance and tried to pretend that I didn't care.

I was the wall flower at the dance at a meet and greet for kids and their parents. My daughter begged and pleaded with me to take her to a local cafe where all the school kids got free cookies and milk and the parents got to know one another. I told Anna I was not sure if I would be able to I would just have to look at my schedule. She wanted me to call my boss at home and ask if I could. Obviously this was important to her. One of her BFFs parents own the cafe so this made it even more important to her. So, I surprised Anna by being outside her classroom when the dismissal bell rang.

Without going into all the details, we went to the bakery and Anna saw all of her friends. I said hello or waved to some of the mothers I recognized. They were all grouped up in little huddles. Anna wanted to go sit with her friends but she didn't want me to be alone. I was completely self conscious that I had no one to talk to and tried to keep my self busy by getting a drink, walking up to the display case, and texting. But I hated being there!

This has happened before when I have gone to her school events, the dances, the field trips, the class parties, and their kid's birthday parties. It is just awkward as hell for me. Why? I am super extroverted, Type A all the way. I try and channel my sister, the one who is such an elitist she has never let her kids play in a McDonalds play yard (not that I blame her but COME ON!). But I have no idea what she would do, this whole thing comes natural to her. She thrives on social status and jockeying for position.

I am at a loss and I felt like a loser yesterday. My husband just laughs and tells me that is what I get for having my daughter in that school because that is what that school is known for. My boss is all what do you expect when 90% of the mothers don't work and they all grew up with each other. I guess I didn't realize how tough it would be. On me! Not my daughter, she loves it and she has friends and they all seem to like her too. But her mom? Not so much. So I will keep reading my White Trash Handbook and keep my chin up because I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, and Doggone It, People Like Me!

I bought White Trash Mom, the Handbook this weekend. I think I am going to love this book. My real hope is that it will crush my expectations and bring me back to reality. My reality. The reality that I, being the major breadwinner in our family, must work.

Here is the list of things that I simply cannot do without the threat of losing my job, my mind, and the minisucle amount of time before bed I get to spend with my daughter. These are the things I seem the other mothers doing, in designer sweats.

• Walking her to her classroom every morning. Instead I drop her off on the corner and make sure she waits for the safety lady to give her the go ahead to cross. If we are early I can take her to her daycare and she can ride the van to school, even more "special".
• Picking her up from school and being the first person she tells her day to.
• Volunteering to help the teacher.
• Volunteering
• Serving on a committee. All the meetings are either in the morning or right after school.
• Picking my daughter up from an after school activity. (Due to what amounted to begging, she will be a girl scout this year because I got permission to block out the last hour an half of one day per week to go an pick her up)
• Serve or prepare a dish for the Teacher Appreciation Monthly Luncheons.
• Eat lunch with my daughter in her lunch room.
• Take my daughter to Back to School Swim night-night being from 4-6.
• Chaperone more than one of her field trips per year. (She was the only, and how is that even possible???, kid that was not taken home from the kindergarten Zoo field trip)

I am sure there are more, and possibly even less because right now I am having my own little pity party.

I always thought that the struggle with coveting would be about material things: cars, houses, clothes, and stuff. This year it seems even harder for me to take Anna to school and see all these other moms casually talking to one another in various stages of dress, ready to go to the gym or home to finish the breakfast dishes. I never knew that I would struggle so hard to be understanding when I hear stay-at-home moms say they just don't have time to get something done. This is such a myopic view, I know, but some days it just really gets to me.

Rant over. Besides, if I had to choose to be at home with a nursing baby and a two year old I would take every bit of what I wrote above back. But once all the kids are in school or Mother's Day Out? well that is what I am comparing myself to. See, totally myopic.

When you have young children under the age of, let's say five, and you are single and dating, as opposed to married and dating, your children are part of the dating dance, the tango or cha-cha-cha, if you will. For example, when the phone rings in the middle of bath time, your child gets to be snatched out of the tub sopping wet and run, dripping, with you to get the phone, just in case it's him.

That is why, while my daughter was spending time with a recent college grad and this grad drove by a guy's house because she wanted to see if his car was there, I was able to alleviate her worry that no, she had not initiated Anna into stalking. The difference was that Anna was too young to repeat my moment (by moment I mean monumental) of weakness to anyone.

However, I did tell this young twenty-something that if she wanted to teach my daughter how to keep her arms down to her side in a V while locking her elbows then I would be all for it. To which my husband responded by saying, Whew! So I wasn't the only one that got that move. We assured him that no way, that is the universal signal for shirt stays on and hands off the breastesses. But then we were left to explain the drive by. He does not get it.