consumption manifestation

So, I'm sitting on the phone, on hold, waiting to hear back what the obviously male pharmacist has to say about my dogged determination to get my daughter her three vials of insulin that she needs to survive. Apparently, the pharamcist did the math and belives that since she uses so little actual insulin from the vial every month, she only needs one vial for three months. If you do the volumetric math, yes, you can milk 540 units out of a 1000 unit vial if that's all you are going to cumlatively use in three months. But, if the insulin expires and you are supposed to throw it away irregardless how much is left after 28 days, then you are left with nothing for the following two months, unless you disregard the medication directions and keep the insulin like the pharmacist belives, and then you are using unreliable expired medicine. Stupid people who don't know what they are doing but insist that they are right. Come on! You pharmacist deal with thousands of medications every day, but I deal with my daughters diabetes managament daily in addition to having decades of experience with my sister. If the doctor wrote the perscription wrong, just tell me how to fix it, don't make it seem like I can't do math and want to waste medicine. Make smaller vials then asshole. Geez.

Anyways, I think I have a consumption problem. Perhaps it's a quest to fill some emptiness? Or perhaps an insecurity issue. Blame it on my parents. What ever it is, it drives me to consume. Perhaps it's just being a part of the larger american culture/society. But I love to consume. Food and goods. I like to shop. I like to get a bargin, I love eating junk food, I like when I find something that fits just perfect in the house, on me, or is so cute on the kids. I like buying things for other people when I find that Perfect item. I suppose one day I will have to address this issue, but for now, this is where my happiness is derived. :D

Ahhhh... descisions

So I went to the doctors yesterday to ponder a whole laundry list of things wrong. Such as my fat middle and why it won't leave despite swimming my ass off four days a week. And the pimples that have exploded all over my face, front and back. And my thyroid medication adjustment. And birth control. Yes, birth control. Not that there has been no use of baby prevention in the last 16 months, but it has been all prophylactics, no pills. The chief complaint about prophylactics is the lack of spontaneity and hubbys preference not to use them. The advantages of the birth control pill is the pregnancy protection, the regularity of periods, taking care of the acne, and a resumption of spontaneous sex. Here's the problem with birth control. The one that the doc selected for me requires me to wean. Stop breastfeeding the boy. So the decision is to take the birth control for the benefit of acne and sex, or continue to boobie the boy until either one of us are done. I'm really having a problem with this black or white decision. I know that I can go back to the doctors and say that I want to be on a birth control that is safe for nursing as well, but at some point in my life won't I have to stop the boobie feeding anyway? And I don't know, I just feel like too big of a wuss to go back to the doctor and admit having a baby attached to my breast for a significant amount of time during the day trumps getting rid of acne and my sex life. Pill or boobs. For goodness sake, my breasts have functioned as little cafeterias for a good 16 months. My identity still includes nursing mom. To be told just to give it up like that. I am resisting being told what to do with my boobs. Now the funny part is, I was starting to think about weaning in the future. I am getting a little tired of being viewed as a giant lollipop every time the baby gets near me. I want to have a time where I pick up the baby and he isn't pulling up my shirt seeing if he can convince me it's milky time. Like a little junky always asking for a hit. It can be quite tiring and destructive to identity and independence. And on the flip side, being able to have a quickie without searching for, putting on and later disposing of a condom, taking extended trips away from the baby, and not leaking milk ever again all are good things. Part of me still has the mentality that me stopping the milk flow will somehow deprive the baby of nutrients. But seriously, the baby is on a full on regular food diet, drinks soy milk already and is beyond the first year of oh so important boobie milk nutritional needs. The other thing is that I feel that I'm making a choice to be selfish and put my needs and vanity over baby, or let the special last time in my life nursing relationship continue with the milk junkie. So far I'm just letting the birth control sit on my bedside table available for my choosing, but unused for now. Ahh, the decision to make...

boys

So apparently this is what boys are. They are peeing in the backyard anywhere they want to. They are making mud out of a perfectly good lawn. They are letting all the water out of the pool via their own bodies, mouths and any way possible. To add to the mud pile that is.

The question is why do I let them? If they were girls would I stop them and make sure they were clean? Would I tell them that making mud and letting the water out of the pool is unacceptable? Or am I gendering my boys by the simple fact that I am staring out the door watching their behavior in passive acceptance. I am watching and thinking... those are boys. This is the gendering practice that i never thought that I'd be a part of. I thought gendering would be the more obvious act of buying and encouraging play with millions of "boy" toys such as hot wheels, dump trucks, and physical toys.

To think that I'm actually letting my boys get their clothes all wet and muddy, destroy the lawn and cause all kinds of destruction all because they are my "boys". As Morgan politely puts on her shoes to go outside and observe the madness.

sigh

Dan wants this to be a suprise.. see original title below

Original Title: Shingles (much more dramatic when it was big and up there ^)
*he defends self- not laughing at title- just laughing at subject matter*

No, not the kind on the roof. I would like that at this point. I have shingles. Like the related to chickenpox, herpes thingamajigger. It sucks. I can't write anymore on this subject because blabbermouth beside me has a comment for every sentence.

It sucks.

Bunnies

So what is it? Is it the summer time heat? Is it finally being past the last "baby" stage? We are freakin humping like rabbits lately. It's an interesting study in human sexuality. What causes the frequency to fluctuate as it does?

Now, I know that there are a few people who read this, try as I might to forget, but jeez louise! We are not having any more babies so why in god's name do we feel the need to close the door (no lock on the master bedroom- we need to fix this!), and get it on every other night before all the kids are even asleep? Our regular exercise routine now.... a lesson in sexuality and what curious 5 yr old minds can conjure up about things that happen behind closed doors....


:D