gripes, assorted

*   I knew it was too good to be true! I'm coming down with what appears to only be your garden-variety cold. Nothing to write home (much less "OMG TEH IMPLAUSIBLE SICKNESS AND DRAMAZ!" hate forums) about. So far my lungs are not being bitchy about it or anything, and there's every reason to believe this is Not A Big Deal. Seriously. Can't even stress how minor this is, especially in The Grand Scheme Of Things. But still. Nobody likes having a cold, amirite?

*   As you may have gathered from the above, I am feeling a little defensive. I guess that's what happens when you know damn well there are people picking apart your every word and delighting in (mistakenly) calling bullshit on things that are true and obsessing over things that aren't. So I'll say this much, and then comment no more on the entire thing...I get that my life to date has been implausibly filled with "drama" and misfortune. Really, I do. I will be the first one to say (nay, SHRIEK) that it is sometimes (okay, often, possibly even "usually") fucking ridiculous and admit that I have sometimes (often! Mostly in the past, but hey nobody's perfect and I won't be so egotistical or unrealistic as to say I will never make a bad decision again as long as I live) handled it poorly. But here's the thing: it's my life. If you don't enjoy reading about it, then don't. If you're only reading because you're trying to find the slip, the mis-step, the chance to trumpet to all and sundry that MFA Mama is a lying liar who lyingly tells lies while lying down, I'll make it easy for you and refer you to my About page, which has remained unchanged (except for the subtraction of "teacher" and addition of "wife") since this blog's inception. See that? YOU'RE WELCOME. Go ahead and call the whole thing fiction if it makes you happy and keeps you from throwing a fucking clot. I aim to please! But also consider that maybe second-hand information from a faceless innernet person might not be all that reliable a source of all-true information on my life, either. Nobody likes feeling like they've Been Had, whether it's for money, goods, or emotional energy. I've been there. I invested a LOT in friendships with people who have claimed to have survived the unsurviveable and ultimately felt like a chump. It sucks. All I can say is to use your best judgment. If someone tells you they've survived, say, ovarian cancer! With other complications! TWICE! And gone on to be approved for the adoption of eleventy-five children and live HAPPILY EVER AFTER!!1!eleven!? Then probably they are full of shit. Or maybe not. Maybe they're telling the truth but they're still a royal asshole and will go on to spend countless hours twisting an amalgamation of public records searches, fallacious reasoning, and personal conjecture into THE ONE REAL TRUTH and subsequently telling everyone that YOU are a lying jerkface. Or maybe they're lying AND they do that. Not everyone is a good candidate for "friend-inside-the-computer" for everyone else, is the bottom line I guess. You can Be Had (or just THINK you have) and sigh and move on with your life, or you can do the social-media equivalent of taking your toys and going home by shutting down your blog and Twitter and boycotting Facebook. I choose the former, and if the fact that I haven't disappeared from the face of the innernet is keeping you up at night? There is medicine for that. The end.

*   There was fuckery involving work-hours today, and I was moderately annoyed over it. That'll all I'll say about THAT in a public forum.

*   It is SO. DAMN. HOT.

*   The XY is undergoing a time of intense personal stress due to some things that are actually legit and Not My Story To Tell. The part that I feel okay in griping about online is that he's taken to catastrophizing about non-emergent things to my voicemail, and gahhhh. The main non-emergent thing is Little Child's height. The only time Little Child has ever been on any of the growth charts for height was at birth, when he was, I believe, in the 25th percentile (I'd have to look it up to be absolutely certain, it may have even been lower). He fell off the charts for height AND weight initially due to his feeding difficulties (which turned out to be related to multiple protein allergies), but even after starting an elemental diet via feeding tube and getting back onto the (lower end of) the chart for weight, he's never since infancy been on the chart for height. He HAS followed a consistent growth curve, and every doctor I've ever asked about it has said that this is most likely due to the fact that the XY, at 5'6" (in shoes) is the tallest person in his family tree by several inches. Yes, the two older children are in the topmost 10% of the growth chart for height, but that is probably because I have some frigging giants on MY side of the biological family (as in 6'6" and up). Human genetics is funny like that. The XY, however, feels that his entire life would be better if he was even a couple of inches taller, and is freaking the fuck out. He wants Little Child on growth hormone shots PDQ. I am not a fan of a) projecting one's own insecurities onto children or b) the idea of manipulating the endocrine system of a medically fragile child who is currently the healthiest he has EVER BEEN for cosmetic reasons (especially since I have discussed this all in age-appropriate language with the kid, and the kid says he doesn't mind being short and does NOT want any more appointments or needles in his life, even if it would potentially make him grow bigger). If Little Child has an inborn deficiency of human growth hormone, that is different. Which is why I've told the XY I have no objection to taking the kid for an endocrine work-up. Our pediatrician has said that he sees no reason why this would be medically NECESSARY, especially given that Genetics already tested most of the things that Endocrinology would check and found them to be A-OK, but doesn't MIND providing a referral if we are concerned. Since the XY is concerned and I am not I have suggested that he take the lead on setting this up, and told him I will let him take Little Child during what is not "his" custodial time to attend said appointment if it falls on a day that I have to work (although I would prefer to be there as well, as I do not trust the XY not to put words in the specialists' mouths and you'd best believe I'll be asking to see a copy of the Endocrinologist's report before even considering subjecting my unwilling kid to frequent injections that I would end up being the one to give him if the XY takes Little Child to the appointment and brings him back with a prescription in-hand). Rather than setting that up and moving forward with it, however, the XY likes to yell at my voicemail. It's getting old.

*   Did I mention that it's hotter than Satan's sun-room here? Okay then.

*   What's getting on YOUR nerves today?

Comments

[May]

And anyway, short men are hot. They must be, or you wouldn't have had 3 kids with XY. QED. Please feel free to delete that and jump up and down on it if it's skeeving you out now.

I have a young relative who fell on a concrete step aged 4 and split their head open. Now, five years later, there's still a visible scar on the kid's forehead. So THIS year is the year kid's father freaks out about the scar and how it's spoiling kid's looks. FIVE YEARS LATER. And, incidentally, upsetting the kid, who up until this point didn't give a horse's arse about the scar, indeed, liked showing it off Harry Potter stylee. AUGH.

[K]

Not an annoyance, but you saying "frigging giants" made me laugh really hard. I have no idea why. Probably because I'm kind of punchy.

What IS getting on my nerves is my half-assed idea to teach/enable Ezra to get out of his bed when he wakes up (LIKE A BIG BOY IN THE MORNING, I THOUGHT WONDERFULLY) and now he gets up randomly 1-2x a night appearing bedside. What the hell was I thinking?

Am stoopid.