A Teaspoon of Sugar Won't Help

                   Deficit, unemployment, three wars, gas prices, inflation, recession/depression, career politicians, all these plus so many more symptoms add up to one sick nation.  I would like to lay the blame at Obama's feet but these things have been festering for years.  Now, just like someone who feels unwell but ignores the symptoms until treatment is far more intensive and invasive than would have been necessary earlier, we must face the truth of our diagnosis. America is very sick and without radical intervention cannot survive. The political players and policy makers have for years sought their own interests rather than those of our nation. We trusted them, albeit only by a thread, and that trust has been betrayed, repeatedly.

The media can spin all they want, I know that in my family, things are worse not better than when Obama took office. Our home has lost 20% of it's market value since we purchased it in '06(most of that since our last appraisal- just after Obama took office). We can't afford family vacations because gas has eaten more and more of our discretionary spending money. The cost of groceries is taking a toll on our income too,  a gallon of milk is $4 and we go through three gallons on a good week. I am not saying that we are suffering; there are those struggling far more than we do to meet ends and my husband's job in the power industry has so far been safe. We are blessed. Nevertheless, I recognize the downward trend in a real way.

 The time for preventative measures has long passed, now we must take a dose of our collective medicine. It's funny to use a healthcare analogy since the Obamacare bill is one of the biggest mistakes in recent history(my opinion) but we can all relate to a doctor visit. When the doc gives you a prescription you expect it to make you better eventually even though sometimes the medicine has serious side effects.  As people who long to stay alive, we understand that and take the medicine despite the possibility of unpleasant risks and  I believe that the citizens of our country want this nation to continue to  live and thrive. We can take the "medicine" if it works to cure us, we just no longer want it masking the symptoms. I believe Americans are smarter than politicians and media think so, tell us the truth, give us our treatment options and get on with it. In spite of  what Mary Poppins might sing, no amount of sugar is going to help this medicine go down.

Overwhelmed and Underpaid

I can almost feel the color fleeing my hair's follicles. Ben is at the optometrist because he lost a contact down the drain, his LAST contact. They were kind enough to work him in today.  About 2 hours ago he sent me a text it read, "mom, I have glaucoma". If you have a mental soundtrack, you can cue the mom freak out music now.

  As those of you who read this blog know, there have been questions as to whether or not  Ben will graduate in May due to his failure to complete a research paper; and the drama doesn't end there. We have been on a roller coaster with him  these past several weeks with more long drops than we like. Roller coasters make me sick and this emotional one has had the same effect on me physically as the real deal would have done.
Sparta and I have fretted over whether or not Ben will ever do what he needs to do to be self supporting. We fear his becoming a permanent fixture in the basement. Anyway,  back to the text message -my mind went immediately to "oh no he's going blind-he'll never leave now."  I know that sounds harsh, someone probably needs to slap a little motherly sense into me. However,  if only you knew ALL the drama,you'd understand my fears. I literally ran out of the Freshway, where I was shopping, and dialed Sparta, upon the first ring my phone flashed new message from Ben, "just kidding".  Argh! I wonder how many of my brown hairs lost their color on account of this one.

He is only one factor, the teenage girls who were once my sweet Barbie playing, mommy-lovin' daughters are testing a few boundaries these days too. Allison, newly permitted to drive, gets behind the wheel at every opportunity. She is a good driver, new but good; I am a bad passenger, old and  jumpy.
Leah is pushing buttons, slamming doors and being more defiant than I ever imagined. She was the most easy going of our children. She always tried to please us and when there were issues, she would take her punishment and then just get over it, no hard feelings, no grudges. Take note of the past tense in the previous sentence. Now, I "ruin" at least one of their lives on a daily basis, or so I'm told.

Wesley ,my baby, is still a little boy who plays with toys but the attitudes of his siblings seem to be aging him beyond his years which in turn is aging me beyond my years. I thought kids were supposed to keep us feeling young.

I repeatedly tell myself and anyone else who will listen, I believe this is God's way of preparing me to let them leave the nest.

The seven trips to doctors' offices(over a 10 day period) due to sick children and the $3000 deductible we haven't yet met have contributed to the feelings of being overwhelmed too. The "I just hit someone in the Walmart parking lot" phone call I received  earlier in the week triggered some stress. It wasn't a joke. Joy.

Anyway, I am venting this all to you because Doctor Oz's show was about stress levels today- I took his quiz and it confirmed what I already knew, I am highly stressed.  You can take the test too just click the link  http://www.doctoroz.com/quiz/great-american-stress-test . 
It was recommended to keep emergency stress relief supplies on hand. These would be items which affect the senses in ways that relax a person and would be unique to the individual. I think my current soothers would be a hot vanilla-lavendar scented bubble bath, some Jason Aldean music, and jelly beans.


He also said that people needed talk about their stress to help alleviate it. I must admit I do feel better now.

Odd Jobs Done Oddly

Sparta's list of "honey-do's" is unending and most of the time undone. There are things that bother me around the house that don't seem to bother him at all, whether it's because he is so laid back or just does not notice is debatable.

It starts out sweet enough, me-"honey, the screen on the back porch is torn", him-"okay". Time passes, reminders are given,  sweet requests turn into sour jabs and still the wasps are flying into our no fly zone.  Now, I should make this cl ear-we are "do it yourselfers". Sparta is a perfectionist and all his tasks look as though they were professionally done. He has built decks, put in wood flooring, installed ceiling fans, walls and tile and I am one lucky woman to have a man so capable.

I am more a duct tape kind of woman, don't get me wrong, I like things done right but my right and Sparta's right are not the same. For years on end Sparta wouldn't allow me to paint our interior walls because he didn't like the way I pre-taped the area. I learned early that to say "I'll do it myself" would strike fear into the core of his being. I am fairly certain that the linoleum tiles I put down in our first home's tiny bathroom( fewer than 10 squares were needed) is the key to his anxiety.

I do try not to do anything that can't be undone, most of my repairs are only meant to be temporary. Some of my favorite tools are duct tape, super glue, a black Sharpie, cardboard and toothpicks. 
The porch screen, I secured that with toothpicks, leveled a toilet with cardboard, covered tears in linoleum with Liquid Paper, filled in scratches on wood furniture with a marker and after waiting for more than a year for the chair bottoms to be screwed in, I super glued them in place.

Usually, when we've had a disagreement and Sparta feels badly about something he's said or done is when my "honey do's" get done. I think we need a good argument, my list is getting pretty long.

Land Shark-I'm Only A Dolphin Ma'am

Land Shark
click this to view the SNL sketch



Mammogram- the word makes me think of the Landshark skit from Saturday Night Live, I can't hear the word without the voice of Chevy Chase running through my mind ,of course, first comes the knock knock - "Mrs. Cagle, flowers,-- plumber,-- candy,-- mammogram". Yes, the little voice inside my head is kooky.

Well, today was my special day, the mammogram day and I was not looking forward to it.  Although I'd been told that after having my first child all sense of modesty would be gone, let me assure you that after four babies it IS still intact.

Nakedness in front of strangers is not my thing, nakedness in front of people I know is not my thing.
I'm guessing the technician thought chatting would make the process less awkward ..I don't know. For me, not so much. Discussing my kids and the strange weather of late as she manipulated, smashed and pressed, really didn't do a thing for me. I did decide this type of conversation needed it's own word- one that aptly portrays the strangeness of the exchange. Oh, but what to call it- "boobie babble", "ta-ta talk", "cha-cha chatter". Your ideas?