Probably shouldn’t

I feel like a cow tonight. My pants were tight. I ate pizza buffet
style. AND I just had sweets. My word. You know when you feel really
thin-ish and then you go to the doctor and on to the scales, the scales
meant for a pistol and whamo you really are not any lighter than the
last time you went. Except that your clothes fit better, and you’re
almost down a size but the self esteem is tied up on the numbers.

Why oh why is it all in the numbers…..well…..and tonight in the pants. BLAH.

Oh
and why was I on the scales at the doc’s office anyway? Glad you asked.
Because I never want to be accused of seeking pity or empathy BUT I’m
sick. Not cook me chicken soup and spoon feed me sick but instead the
I’ve neglected myself sick. And I kept denying it and saying that I was
really fine and perhaps we were just passing virus to virus to virus
between the three of us. Tom really didn’t get sick and CC has been the
picture of health. This was a new experience for me I just don’t
remember a time that I felt 100 percent basically since the beginning
of the year. And I haven’t been able to stay consistent at Golds for
ether the kids or me hacking up a lung. So when finally enough was
enough I went to the doc. Now I had been for a physical. Blood work.
Etc. during the past few weeks and the doctor prescribed nasal steroids
and albulterol so I really thought there was nothing else they could do
to clear up what ever it was that was a nuisance. Well the doctor said,
“I know you don’t want to think that you’re sick, (putting a hand on my
shoulder) but you’re sick.” I’m someone that DOES NOT take medications
and vitamins are even impossible to take consistently so when he wrote
out the prescriptions for 3 medications and 1 over the counter, well
you can imagine. I am taking Mucinex, DuoNeb via the nebulizer,
antibiotics, and Advair. It appears that I have bronchitis, with a case
of RSV, AND a sinus infection. And the doctor warns that I am to take
this seriously because if it doesn’t’ clear it can become re-occurring
and chronic with equals asthma then perhaps emphysema. So I have been
huffing and puffing and choking down all kinds of things. The saddest
part was that he strongly recommended an antibiotic that I CAN NOT
nurse with.

I cried when I nursed Dain for the last time just
before my first dose of antibiotic I was not/am not ready to stop
nursing. I have been supplementing with formula for a while due to his
low weight and my decreased milk supply but the tenderness of that
morning and evening feeding is so amazing. It really is a perfect time
to break away but I am just not ready so I am pumping and dumping to
keep up the little supply.

Today I took Dain to an eye
specialist. His eyes always appear a bit crossed but the doctor says
that it is just an appearance and that they do not technically cross so
he will grow out of it. Or more like, grow into his eye shape. Time
will tell.

While waiting in the office I met the first of two
judgmental, rude, icy, witches of the day. I had all three children
with me. But I had helpers. Grandma Jean stayed in the car with AJ and
Lauren and Elise entertained CC in the waiting room. Let’s count. That
is 4 ‘adults’ for 3 children. Should be enough right? Wrong. Pretty
soon AJ appeared in the waiting room. All in all the appt lasted for 2
hours…..definitely more than the time limit for my kids. But you see
that sounds like an excuse. An excuse of a mom who has run amuck
children who had no control whatsoever over her two children. And
that’s exactly how the first witch made me feel. “Could you pick up
that block and put it on the table please” “No, you’re going to have to
go around the other end of the table: (because she was sitting too
close the table on which he was playing and she couldn’t back up a
couple of inches to get out of his way) “No NO NO you may not rub his
head” (spoken to cc as he wanted to love her 8 month old grandson) and
there were others. But I didn’t hear any of these. Lauren and Elise
told me after the fact that she had made them feel so uncomfortable
telling MY children how to behave in the waiting room. If an 11/13 year
old sensed attitude…..then there was attitude. I did go back and
forth from dain’s exam room to the waiting room when Dain got restless
and I picked up on her tone towards my children but as soon as she saw
me her voice changed and she pretended to interact with AJ at his train
set but I knew there was much more going on.

I hate being judged. I was really bothered by it. Still am but I’m just too tired to express the feelings as I has hoped.

The
second witch was in Bath and Body. I was with the cashier checking out
as AJ and CC were testing some antibacterial soap. One lady was very
cute in helping them test different scents and the boys got so excited.
Aj asked one mother with an wee toddler in a stroller and a preschooler
at her side to look at his cool sparkle hands. She ignored him. He got
in her face, thinking he had not been heard, and without looking at
him, pushed him aside and said, “Yes I see it” with that look on her
face. Then as AJ noticed her preschooler he held his hands up to ask if
she could smell his soap, the mother gave him a look to kill that
showed that he clearly didn’t have the right to talk to her child. I
flashed a look back harsher than hers and our eyes met in a disturbing
battle of glances that would have been really ugly had words been
attached. I said to AJ, “honey I know your excited buy not everyone
wants in on it….some people may not want to smell….or see your
sparkles…..you can show CC he is very interested.”

Maybe my
too tight pants attitude had me down. Maybe the women were judging me
as a mother completely out of control of her children. Maybe I am
totally out of touch and appear to be one of those mothers of brats.
Maybe. Maybe I’m in denial. And this stuff hurt so much because I am
really slapped in the face that others acted out towards us because we
are a truly hideous family. I just feel ick. Ick. ick.

I hate being judged.

Oh and I almost forgot…..I was walking by a table of loud business
type professionals.  A lady in the group stopped me and asked,
“Because we have to prove something here,  I have to ask you how
old you are’  I was thinking, ‘great, I look really young for my
age and they have a bet going on just how old I am.’  Actually I
was feeling pretty flattered that I was the subject of the table. 
But then the truth became clear.  She asked, “We wanted to know if
you know who Jimmy Hoffa is (was)?  Huhhhh?  “Well our co
worker is your age and she has never heard of him so we wanted to prove
to her how out of touch she is”

Great.  I’m 36 and I look 36.

Oh and I told them that Jimmy Hoffa was at the bottom of the bay in San
Francisco.  But of course that’s just my opinion.  Actually
wouldn’t it have been fun if I had said, “Well he was really in the
witness protection program after he ratted on fellow mobsters and he
lives in San Francisco still, I know because I’ve met him and I have
more of an inside scoop.”

By the time I left the table I had them all laughing so what ever I
finally said, it was a hit.  So I’m lovedby some and judged by
others.  Theres a lesson.