Heroine

This is the first day in a month of Tuesdays I haven't had the cooler going in the house and all I can say to that is Halle-freakin'-lujia! It won't last. I'm going glass half empty on that one.

My sister and I took my mom to the movie last week. This blog is turning into stories about my dying mother. Whatever sells. We took her to see The Help. We had all read it and she wanted to see it with us. I was not looking forward to the experience as, well, you see, my mother is somewhat of a reformed bigot.

She grew up in an area that didn't have people of color let alone black people. After my parents married they moved to Phoenix where I did grow up with people of color--black, hispanic, American Indian--Phoenix is a melting pot. My parents would make racial comments here and there thinking that it was okay but I don't think they actually "knew" any persons of color. Really.

My parents went on two missions for our church after they retired. The first was to Zimbabwe and the second to India. My mother came home from the first thinking that she was the black mans' best friend. She would walk up to black people and ask them about their heritage and tell them that she knew what it was like for them, etc. It was so embarrassing. I'm sure they were thinking, "Listen here, Whitey Mc White White......"

So we took her to see The Help.

I was supposed to go to her house and help haul her down to the theatre but when I called my sister at 11:30 (movie started at 12:05) she told me that my mom had just gotten into the shower and to go get seats saved. I figured it would be no big deal as who else is going to sit in the handicap spots on the main floor?

I'm sitting there in a prime spot when what must have been the entire "still semi-lucid" ward of the local old folks home started wheeling and hobbling their way into the theatre. I was surrounded and they were all giving me the stink eye because I "appear capable". Finally, the "cruise director" of the bunch asked if I was saving spots for anyone and I explained that my mother is in a wheelchair and my sister was coming with her. So she switched around a few of them and I ended up sitting next to this lady who sounded like she was breathing a death rattle the entire time--Darth Vader-like.

My sister finally got there and sat next to me with our mother on the other side of her. With her oxygen tank going it sound like Darth Vader also but I've started calling her Darth Mader. So I've got the death rattle on one side of me and the oxygen tank on the other and we were ready to watch the movie.

My mother seems to be losing her hearing a bit. So all through the movie she kept saying, "What did she say?" "Who is that?" "Where's the other black lady?" and this was all done in a normal tone of voice for her. Loud. Then inequity would happen and she'd say, "Oh! Tsk. Tsk!" My sister and I kept telling her to be quiet. "Mom! Stop!" A sweet refrain from the last post.

Some old broad's phone kept going off in the middle of the movie and her phone would sing "Sweet Home Alabama...." 3 times this happened. 3 times!! I finally turned around and yelled, "Turn OFF your ringer!"

Anyway the movie was good. I cried. My sister cried. I'm sure my mother cried. She would whisper loudly to my sister, "Is Kara crying or not? I can't tell."

My sister oft times says, "Thrown them in a wheelchair, slap an oxygen tank on them and they lose their marbles" or " they can say or do anything." And it's true.

Olive Garden

School started this week which also coincided with the hottest week of the summer. I don't know what they have to do with each other except to make one as irritating as the other.

With school starting again and myself without employment outside the home I have so much more time to spend with my mother which was the purpose for quitting my job. Tonight and tomorrow night I will go up and stay the night with her as my dad went out of town for a few days. He needs breaks.

It also gives me more time to spend with her during the week. As selfless as my motives seem to be I know that spending extra time with her may drive me to drink or at least to eat an entire pan or two of brownies. mmmmmmmm.....brownies........ As demonstrated in today's adventure:

My sister has been faithfully going up to her house every Wednesday for a few years and taking her on an outing. I should thank my sister sometime for taken on that onerous burden. Now that I'm available I get to participate in this adventure. Today my sister decided that we were going to lunch---because we know our mom will pay for it.

I met them at the local Olive Garden where we sat down and had a lovely meal of soup, salad and breadsticks with alfredo sauce. We told her what the kids were doing, what classes they were taking this year, if they were happy, what our husband's were doing, if they were happy, if we loved her, if we will miss her when she's gone....you know, the normal stuff.

When it was time to go we got her Jazzy backed out from the table and my sister points to my mother's left and says, "Oh good. we have a clear path out of here," as there was no one standing in the aisle. My mother, who has always been like a bull in a china closet sees only what is directly in front of her, not noticing my sister pointing the other way and starts to go forward.

Now there is and always has been only one speed for my mother: AS FAST AS SHE CAN GO! She's 6 feet tall and mean looking and goes as fast as her legs and now her wheels can carry her. So she's got her Jazzy up on high and starts to go forward instead of to the left. She catches some lady's purse onto the back of her oxygen tank and starts to pull the lady's chair over. The lady is hanging onto the chair and at the same time is trying not to tip over the table and trying to get out of the chair.

My sister and I are yelling, "Mom, stop! Stop, Mom! MOM! STOP! STOP!!" as loud as we can and she is totally oblivious to the fact that this is even happening. Finally she turns around and sees that we're freaking out and that the chair hooked to her Jazzy by this purse is keeping her from going any further.

I have to say that luckily she has the most pathetic, duh! look on her face about everything now so that you can't help but feel sorry for her and you certainly can't get mad at her. The lady being pulled off her chair was a little annoyed, the table was all askew and the people at her table were incredulous. I was soooo embarrassed that I just took off in the opposite direction and waited for my sister to sort things out with the people and get her out of there.

When we got her out to the car and loaded her in, my sister questioned her about what happened in the restaurant and my mother didn't really know what had happened. No really. She really didn't have a clue. She's not losing it she's just oblivious.

I'm so glad I quit my job.

I Resigned

That's it. The title says it all. I resigned from my position at the school. It has a 3 fold explanation:

1. My mother is dying. No really, she is. She has Pulmonary Fibrosis and has outlived her life expectancy by three years. She has tried every experimental drug the doctors can shove on her and I think they have prolonged her life. Not to mention her fierce will to continue living and see her grandchildren do their thing. But now we truly think she's at the end. She's 6 feet tall and weighs maybe 105 lbs. She's on oxygen 100% of the time and doesn't eat much anymore. She turned 74 in June. My dad is 77 and is very healthy but needs to have breaks now and again from the care taking responsibilities. So I quit my job to help them out. Sounds like I'm a real great gal, doesn't it.

2. My husband needs an office assistant. He is a Family Therapist with his own business. I know he could make more money and finish more projects if he had someone to do the books, the billing, and the hodgepodge of office life that I can do so easily. We had thought about it for some time and feel that we can make the leap now without killing ourselves. (God, please don't let us kill ourselves!--A serious prayer.)

3. I was sick of the District I work for. Aside from the fact that the district is the best run in the state and the legislature hate us, which I love, they have a backward way of thinking. It's an good old boys' club. Everyone hides behind each others coattails so no one takes the blame for anything. I just got sick of it. But, and it's a big but, if my mother's health hadn't turned I probably would have gone down in a blaze of glory. I could sue them and win. I could sue the teacher at my school--you know who you are you backstabbing bitch--who sent the district the anonymous letter. It's an anonymous blog people. And for the record I know of a few more people in the district who work in Special Ed that have blogs they write about their students and it's NOT anonymous. Go figure out who they are because I'm not a tattle tell.

And that's where I stand. I am still heavily involved in the PTA. I have one child left at the elementary school which I was formerly employed. I'm still going to be in the school often enough and have friends that will tell me stories that will make their way to my blog.

So watcha gonna do to me now, Big Bad District? HUH?! What now?!

The Honeycombing Effect

We have this friend named, Steve, that is very interested in what he looks like. Not in a vain way, in an aging way. He's really quite funny. His mother and grandfather are obsessed with weird body diseases like elephantitis and moles with hair and teeth that could possibly be a twin. You know the normal stuff. So because of the overly active imaginations of his mother and grandfather Steve is also obsessed with bodily functions and dying and what he calls "honeycombing". His theory is that as you age your body starts to fall apart from the inside out and looks like a honeycomb. The honeycombing just gets worse and worse and soon it starts to look like it on the outside wherein you become a shell. Depressing, isn't it.

Steve is a hoot.

So the other night I had gone running and was sitting around in my running clothes stinkin it up all evening long while I watched TV and did a whole lot of nothing. I've been a runner on and off for several years but have decided to make a goal out of it so I started training for some races starting in January. I run three days a week and have become really good at it. I'm not fast by any standard but I can run 3-5 miles, have several routes and have come to quite enjoy it. My dog Pepper goes with me.

Anyway, I had gone on my run earlier in the afternoon and was sitting around watching TV when I decided it was time to get ready for bed. I needed to take a shower because I really sweat and stink when I run. Also, I thought because I was going to strip down anyway I might as well take a look at myself in the mirror. You know, because I've been running now for 4 months and, although I haven't lost any weight, I would most likely see some change in my body. But....

I was not prepared for what I saw. Granted it was evening, I was looking at myself in a full length mirror after eating dinner and drinking water all day long. And the lighting was BAD. One fluorescent bedside light shining it's evil upon my naked body. The sagging, the lumpiness, the horror that was there in that mirror. I tweeted my discovery, "Bad news, folks. I've really started to sag. I stripped down and took a look. I don't think there's much hope left. Waaahhh!"

Of, course I mainly got sympathy from--men. I had to correct them all really quickly to let them know I wasn't talking about my boobs. I have no boobs. The pregnancies and the breastfeeding have destroyed them to two small sacks that barely protrude from my chest. At least they used to be perky, little things that protruded from my chest.

No, I was talking about my belly and my thighs to some extent. I have this belly that looks like I'm 4 months pregnant but with chub. And I don't like it. Not. One. Bit.

I shouldn't really complain. I've always been really thin. I didn't start to put on weight until about 4 years ago. I could eat whatever I wanted, never had to exercise, wore a size 2. Then I hit 38-39. I put on 10 pounds that summer, then the next summer I put on another 10 pounds and within the last year another 8. It all goes to my tummy. I wear a girdle. For reals. Vanity has caught me by the tail and won't let go.

I won't look in the mirror again. At least not late in the evening after a day of eating and drinking, standing in bad light. Honeycombing just may be true and not a theory after all.

The Email

I have been banned from writing on my other blog about the school and all the intricacies accompanying it. The school board received an "anonymous" letter from a concerned parent.

Here it is:

I am anonymously emailing all of you to inform you of the information below, involving one Mrs. Kara Sherman, employee at Forbes Elementary School, in your school district. I do not live in your school district, not even in your state....but what Mrs. Sherman is doing is WRONG!

Mrs. Sherman became a random "follower" of someone I "know" on Twitter and that is how I became aware of the situation I am about to describe for you. Please follow the links below, as they demonstrate the problem Mrs. Sherman has created.

Once my acquaintance noticed he/she had a new follower on Twitter, he/she clicked on the new follower's Twitter profile:

http://twitter.com/wampumqueen

It was at that time, apparent that the follower was Mrs. Kara Sherman as she had, at that time, listed at the top right of her Twitter page the following information:

Name Kara Sherman

Location iPhone: 40.381561,-111.782326

Web http://elementary..

Bio Wife and Mother Extraordinaire, Family Engineer, Lady of Leisure, Elementary school secretary

This information gives her EXACT location from her iPhone as well as the URL to her own personal blog:

http://elementarysecretary.blogspot.com/

After reading through what Mrs. Sherman "blogs" about from her position as secretary at an elementary school, it was clear to us that she is repeatedly publicly disclosing, and with horrible biases, information that she in her position of employment has absolutely no business whatsoever disclosing on the Internet or otherwise. Also, Mrs. Sherman doesn't just blog about the students of Forbes Elementary School, she blogs about their parents, grandparents, school employees, etc as well. In her blog, Mrs. Sherman passes harsh judgement, gossips, makes gross assumptions, all while violating the privacy of the students and parents she was hired to serve by making it public! It is obvious that Mrs. Sherman has been blogging about events, students, and parents at Forbes Elementary School in a mean spirited, prejudiced, inappropriate manner....all on her personal blog and doing so WHILE AT WORK!

Although on her blog, Mrs. Sherman does NOT list the name of the school she works for, a simple Google search of her name, "Kara Sherman", yields several results, such as:

Her Google Profile, specifically listed her place of employment BY NAME & the School District's Name at first and she has since removed that info. However, your School District's name is mentioned in her LinkedIn info: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/kara-sherman/1a/789/698 where she also again posts a link to her 2 BLOGS, one link is now not functional, but her "family" blog is accessible still.

I respectfully submit that anyone can Google another person's name/Twitter name and unfortunately, links to her current blog is what will come up on the worldwide web for all to see, thanks to Mrs. Kara Sherman.

TODAY'S Update: I typed this email and saved it as a Draft MONTHS AGO but never sent it until today. I thought maybe Ms. Sherman changed her ways. Until I saw her Twitter name pop up in an re-tweet today A short amount of digging & it appears Mrs. Sherman has changed her "name" on Twitter to "Elizabeth Poppleton" and removed her Location and her website URL from her Twitter page.....but still has "Wampuqueen" as her Twitter username, which when "Wampumqueen" is googled http://www.google.com/search?sourceid=navclient&aq=0h&oq=wampum&ie=UTF-8&rlz=1T4ADRA_enUS392US392&q=wampumqueen and searched through Blogger http://www.blogger.com/profile/05958282429189357990 still leads you to her NON FAMILY website, titled: "Adventures in Babysitting" now located at http://queenofsecretaries.blogspot.com/ Please GO READ HER POSTS! :(

Note: She has blog posts on her website from 2/15/11, 2/21/11 and 3/8/11 referencing her "problems with the district", brags about her steps to hide her blog on the internet, references to having a lawyer, how she will continue to blog about the students/school after being spoken to about her blog by the "Pal" Principal, and her intent to continue using her iPhone during work to post, access social media, etc.

Signed,

Anonymous parent of a special needs child, HIGHLY IRRITATED!

Now this person is more famous than they ever wanted to be. Anonymous my butt.

Snorey McSnoreSnore

I am a BEAR if you wake me up in the middle of the night. Especially to my own family. When my kids were babies I breastfed them for 12 - 15 months depending on the kid and the circumstance. When I would first have the baby I'd wake up and be so happy to nurse and to love them in the middle of the night. Then after awhile I'd get to the point where I wouldn't hear them so we soon fell into a routine that Jonathan would go get the screamer, bring them to me, I would sit up, nurse usually lolling back and forth because I couldn't stay awake then hand the baby back to Jon and he would take them back to bed. I would be out again as soon as my head hit the pillow. Little did I know that the kid didn't always go right back to sleep so he would stay awake until they did. Which makes him an awesome husband!

And the nighttime parent.

The kids know not to come to my side of the bed at night for fear of being growled at. I don NOT like to be awakened in the middle of the night. Ever. When they were little and would come in to our room he would have them lay on his side of the bed as far away from me as possible. I'm hardly nurturing in the daytime and even less so in the night.

Anyway. The point is: I don't like to be awakened in the night.

The hubs has over the last few years started snoring. He has gained some weight as we all do over 19 years of marriage and with it has come the snore. It doesn't matter if he's laying on his right side, his left side, or his back. He's snoring. And it's not a quiet snuffling, it's an all out snore.

I've learned over the years that if I can get to sleep before he starts snoring then I can sleep through a whole night's worth of snoring and never wake up. But if I wake up and he's snoring it can take a long time for me to get back to sleep.

I should poke him and tell him to turn over or something but I don't. I CHOOSE to lay there and be a martyr about it. I will toss and turn and get madder and madder because I don't want to disturb HIS sleep by asking him to turn over. I lay there and huff and puff and flip and flop, sometimes violently to see if he will wake up. Last night I got up and made a lot of noise by grabbing my pillow, getting a blanket out of the hall closet and going downstairs to sleep on the couch. I love to sleep on my couch but of course I was too indignant to do so last night. Finally I had had enough and went back upstairs with my pillow and got back into bed with more huffing and puffing and grumbling and grouching to the hubs that he "was snoring and I can't sleep and it's not fair and ....blah blah blah."

This morning I woke up and apologized for being a bear in the middle of the night. He said, "Why didn't you just wake me up and tell me to turn over?" I said, "Because, I didn't want to disturb YOU."

Still the martyr.

New idea

I've been thinking about this poor little blog. It sits here and waits for me to visit it and take a break from my busy life of work, kids, Twitter and the other blog I write. "You are supposed to love me and care for me and post things about your family! You know, like a web diary!" Blergh....boring.

I read several other blogs from several other mommy bloggers and think to myself, "Now, THAT'S FUNNY!" or true or so like my life or ....whatever. Then something funny will happen around our house and I think "I ought to write that down". And that's where we are at. Where to write it down.

Here! Dear friends, here is where I shall write it all down. I will change the name and EVERYTHING and then unveil it.....sometime.....soon....is that ambiguous?