Holy crap, really

Have I really let a post my husband wrote stay in the number one slot for that long? Damn, now that is just lazy. I could point out that most days, I am busy as hell. Or that I have 3 children, a husband, and a dog to take care of. And that I sit on the board of directors for not 1 but 2 organizations. And that I just ran an all school fundraiser that was riddled with issues because it was my first year in this position.

I could make those excuses, but I won't. Because I'm awesome like that.

The only other reason I can give is that my life, although hectic and crazy, would not be that interesting to most of you. And it would probably make a lot of you ladies stay on birth control for longer than really necessary.

I can give you some high points to tide you over until something crazy happens if you would like. If you don't like, get the hell outta here. Now. Like, right now.

I can tell you that even though the economy sucks, the fundraiser I just had at my school only made $100 less than last year. And we had two less students get the coveted prize of a hummer limo ride to lunch than last year. I was very happy with the outcome, and we made a lot of much needed money for our school. I learned that common sense is not so common, and that parents, not children, are the biggest morons sometimes. There were blank checks sent in, order envelopes with no order forms, just a lot of cash, checks made out to god knows who, and order forms with no money whatsoever. The whole thing ran for 2 weeks, and I was so thankful when it finally closed. Now I just need to get through taking 68 kids on a limo ride, and passing out cookie dough to parents that obviously did not read the pick-up time and date letter I sent home. After the many emails and phone messages I received, I had to stop and wonder why I even took the time composing those memos, notes in the PTA newsletter, and posting reminders on our fb page.

As for soccer, you all know my great hunk of a husband has been coaching Evan's team. And that after 2 weeks, he was ready to throw in the towel. I don't think he had quite understood what it would mean to have not just Evan NOT pay attention to him when he was trying to explain something to him, but 6 other kids be lost in lala land, too. We have already lost 1 kid for 2 weeks because he got a concussion on the bus (there's a story there, but I can't tell it. but it was goooood), and he has yet to return, even though it's been 3 weeks now. Then, Evan came home from school with a broken finger (more to that story later). Now we went from a 7 kid team to a 5 kid team, and if one more kid is out, we can't play. You need to have 2 kids on the sidelines ready to play, and we won't. Not to mention the fact that if Jay wasn't coaching, we wouldn't have to attend all the practices, we could just go and be supportive of his team on Saturday's (non-raining ones, of course, because if I don't have to go to a game in the rain, why would I?).

Now on to the broken finger story. About 2 1/2 weeks ago, Evan came home and said that he had hurt his hand playing basketball during recess. He had gone to see the school nurse, who put ice on it and sent him back to class. When he showed me, it looked a little swollen so I gave him more ice. Within an hour, the finger had swollen to over double the size and was black from the bottom of the finger to the knuckle. He couldn't bend it and he was in a lot of pain. I gave him Tylenol for the pain, and didn't think anything of it. Jay said it wasn't broken and I don't know why, but I believed him (sometimes I forget that he's not a medical professional just because he works in a hospital. I also don't know why I believe him when he swore our daughter was fine with a 104 degree temp, and I called bullshit and took her to the ER only to find she had pneumonia. I should just always listen to my mommy instinct because it rarely fails me. Or just do the opposite of what Jay says. Either way works, I guess.) I gave Evan more Tylenol at bedtime, and again in the morning because it was really bothering him. The swelling hadn't gone down at all over night. I called and set up an appointment for that day with his doctor and crossed my fingers that it was just a sprain.

Of course, once the doctor looked at it, she requested an X-Ray. She thought if it was broken, it was on the growth plate, so it would need to be tended to. Once she had the film in hand, she couldn't tell if it was broken so she had the radiologist take a look with a promise that we would know by the next day. She splinted it and gave him a note for no physical activities for a week. The next day, the call came that it was, in fact, broken on the growth plate and I set up an appointment to take him in for a cast.

After taking Evan out of school an hour early, driving to the doctor's office 20 minutes away for the second time in 2 days, and paying ANOTHER co-pay, the doctor walked into the room and immediately went into a shpeel about how he wouldn't be casting it because Evan should be able to leave the splint alone for 4 weeks. I tried pointing out numerous times that Evan is 6 and can barely walk and talk at the same time without falling on his ass because, again, he is 6. And he's a Ferris, and we are not graceful people. The doctor again refused to cast it and said to make an appointment next week if he wouldn't leave it alone. He suggested making a star chart for good behavior, and I suggested he just cast it because if a star chart didn't work for potty training, it wasn't going to work now. Finally, we got up to leave. I turned and said to him before I left that I would be seeing him Monday morning to have my son put in a cast, because as his mother, I already know how the weekend would go. And that if he never intended to cast it, he should have called and said it instead of making me drive all the way there, wasting my time and gas, plus Evan missed an hour of school. I also informed him that I refused to pay another co-payment when I brought him back because this visit was crap. Then I left.

Of course that weekend, we went to Portland to visit Mason, and of course Evan fell flat on his ass after "surfing" on the hard wood floor, fell off the skateboard he refused to stop playing on, and smacked into everything with his broken, splinted finger.

First thing Monday morning, I called and insisted Evan get an appointment that day. And when I got there, they asked for a co-payment, and when I stated my case (quite forcefully) the guy just said "Um, I don't know about that. I need to ask." and I said "Yeah, you do that. And I'm sure they will agree with me. The doctor did nothing but talk on Friday, so there was nothing to charge me for. Can you really bill my insurance for that? How about I call and ask them? Will this office reimburse me for the gas I wasted coming here 3 times in 3 days because no one can figure stuff out?" and you know what, he did not get "someone" because he apparently saw my reasoning. That, or he realized I was 5 seconds away from going bat shit crazy in front of a roomful of mothers and kids.

When the doctor finally graced us with his presence, he seemed a little pissy about Evan not leaving his splint alone. I reminded him a bit rudely that I had told him on Friday a 6 year old would never leave a splint alone and trying to get him to not play is never going to happen. That shut him up. It took all of 10 minutes to cast Evan's left ring finger, and then we left. We have until Nov. 3 until that thing comes off, and I am sick of looking at it and smelling it.

It's pretty sad that a 6 year olds broken finger is all I've got to share with you.