Things that do (and don't) piss me off
I'm feeling somewhat inclined to be pissy, as this is my first day back from a five-day weekend. Here are some of the things that are currently pissing me off.
1. Cold sores. I caught the virus that causes these nasty face-blighting horrors on a 1992 camping trip with my future husband and five other grown-ups. We girls ill-advisedly shared a Thermos full of my friend C.'s "cuckoo juice," a highly alcoholic, fruity-licious cold beverage. Unfortunately, C. was coming down with an outbreak of cold sores, which efficiently commuted via Thermus-bus to my mouth. Thirteen years later, I still suffer the fallout of that bad decision. They frequently break out when my lips chap to the point where I get small splits. Right now, I have a split across the center of my bottom lip, with sores trying to break out along its entire length. Aaargh!!! My treatment of choice is a Listerine-soaked cotton ball, applied liberally and frequently. By liberally, I mean "applied until it stings, and then left there until it stops stinging - only then do you know for sure it's working." By frequently, I mean "every available moment when your mouth is not doing something else and/or in public." Also, keep the sores bone-dry. And DON'T POP THAT SUCKER!!! The result is a tough, leathery layer of skin atop the sore, such that it cannot burst open and fester visibly for a week. It looks like a really bad case of chapped lips rather than an early-stage case of the Bubonic Plague. But the sores still last just as long. The much-touted commercial treatments are bogus. They are in a moist ointment base which allows the sore to erupt and look festeringly gross until they heal. Listerine, and only Listerine, is of any help at all.
2. Long-term houseguests. Back in September, my nephew's babymama and her 2 1/2 year old daughter (my nephew's half-sister and NOT my brother-in-law's kid) wound up homeless. This situation was partly the result of her terminal bad decision-making, compounded by the sadistic involvement of the Rhode Island DCYF. Anyway, she calls my soft-hearted husband at 4:30 on a Tuesday, sobbing that if she didn't have somewhere else to live by 9:00 the next day, DCYF was going to take her daughter away and place her in foster care. She had nowhere to go. My hubby begs me to let her come stay with us. I can't say no to my hubby when he has tears in his eyes, so she moved in with us. (How pathetic: a 27-year-old woman has nobody she can stay with other than her baby's remarried daddy's brother, wife and baby daughter...) She's a passive-aggressive, lazy skulker. Her daughter is an absolute, unmitigated terror and a generally miserable child. They make me hate being home sometimes. Babymama's job is only 30 hours a week, so she can't afford to move out. Supposedly she's going to follow my brother-in-law and his family when they take my nephew with them and move to New Mexico at the end of January. Putting aside my doubts as to whether this is even going to happen, the end of January is a long way away. I never liked Babymama very much, and I really resent the fact that I'm being forced to bear the consequences of HER lifetime of bad decisions. And as far as her kid goes, I'm moving further along the spectrum of negative emotions from "annoyance" to "dislike" towards "actively can't stand" at an alarmingly fast pace. I want them out so bad I can taste it, but I couldn't live with myself if I tossed a 2 1/2 year old child out on the street in the winter, even this particular spawn of Satan. Any suggestions on how to diplomatically handle this situation are welcome.
3. The fact that, fourteen months after the birth of my child, I'm still carting around 40 extra pounds. Dieting is my least favorite thing in the whole world, closely followed by exercise-for-exercise's sake (as opposed to exercise undergone willingly in the course of doing something fun). I've got to get around to losing the weight sometime soon, but I can't stand the idea of doing it NOW.
And now, more in keeping with the Thanksgiving season, things that make me happy:
1. Coming into the office on a Monday after a long weekend to find in my mailbox a favorable decision on a Motion for Summary Judgment I worked very hard on in a complicated case. I'm a lawyer; I love winning.
2. My baby girl being in a ridiculously kissy mood throughout the entire aforementioned long weekend. (Just not on Mommy's yucky bottom lip, honey!)
3. My baby girl, and therefore me, sleeping through the night.
4. Yogurt-covered pretzels.
1. Cold sores. I caught the virus that causes these nasty face-blighting horrors on a 1992 camping trip with my future husband and five other grown-ups. We girls ill-advisedly shared a Thermos full of my friend C.'s "cuckoo juice," a highly alcoholic, fruity-licious cold beverage. Unfortunately, C. was coming down with an outbreak of cold sores, which efficiently commuted via Thermus-bus to my mouth. Thirteen years later, I still suffer the fallout of that bad decision. They frequently break out when my lips chap to the point where I get small splits. Right now, I have a split across the center of my bottom lip, with sores trying to break out along its entire length. Aaargh!!! My treatment of choice is a Listerine-soaked cotton ball, applied liberally and frequently. By liberally, I mean "applied until it stings, and then left there until it stops stinging - only then do you know for sure it's working." By frequently, I mean "every available moment when your mouth is not doing something else and/or in public." Also, keep the sores bone-dry. And DON'T POP THAT SUCKER!!! The result is a tough, leathery layer of skin atop the sore, such that it cannot burst open and fester visibly for a week. It looks like a really bad case of chapped lips rather than an early-stage case of the Bubonic Plague. But the sores still last just as long. The much-touted commercial treatments are bogus. They are in a moist ointment base which allows the sore to erupt and look festeringly gross until they heal. Listerine, and only Listerine, is of any help at all.
2. Long-term houseguests. Back in September, my nephew's babymama and her 2 1/2 year old daughter (my nephew's half-sister and NOT my brother-in-law's kid) wound up homeless. This situation was partly the result of her terminal bad decision-making, compounded by the sadistic involvement of the Rhode Island DCYF. Anyway, she calls my soft-hearted husband at 4:30 on a Tuesday, sobbing that if she didn't have somewhere else to live by 9:00 the next day, DCYF was going to take her daughter away and place her in foster care. She had nowhere to go. My hubby begs me to let her come stay with us. I can't say no to my hubby when he has tears in his eyes, so she moved in with us. (How pathetic: a 27-year-old woman has nobody she can stay with other than her baby's remarried daddy's brother, wife and baby daughter...) She's a passive-aggressive, lazy skulker. Her daughter is an absolute, unmitigated terror and a generally miserable child. They make me hate being home sometimes. Babymama's job is only 30 hours a week, so she can't afford to move out. Supposedly she's going to follow my brother-in-law and his family when they take my nephew with them and move to New Mexico at the end of January. Putting aside my doubts as to whether this is even going to happen, the end of January is a long way away. I never liked Babymama very much, and I really resent the fact that I'm being forced to bear the consequences of HER lifetime of bad decisions. And as far as her kid goes, I'm moving further along the spectrum of negative emotions from "annoyance" to "dislike" towards "actively can't stand" at an alarmingly fast pace. I want them out so bad I can taste it, but I couldn't live with myself if I tossed a 2 1/2 year old child out on the street in the winter, even this particular spawn of Satan. Any suggestions on how to diplomatically handle this situation are welcome.
3. The fact that, fourteen months after the birth of my child, I'm still carting around 40 extra pounds. Dieting is my least favorite thing in the whole world, closely followed by exercise-for-exercise's sake (as opposed to exercise undergone willingly in the course of doing something fun). I've got to get around to losing the weight sometime soon, but I can't stand the idea of doing it NOW.
And now, more in keeping with the Thanksgiving season, things that make me happy:
1. Coming into the office on a Monday after a long weekend to find in my mailbox a favorable decision on a Motion for Summary Judgment I worked very hard on in a complicated case. I'm a lawyer; I love winning.
2. My baby girl being in a ridiculously kissy mood throughout the entire aforementioned long weekend. (Just not on Mommy's yucky bottom lip, honey!)
3. My baby girl, and therefore me, sleeping through the night.
4. Yogurt-covered pretzels.
posted by Susan D. at 8:21 AM
3 Comments:
Wow! Never knew that about Listerine.
Wish I had some good advice about Babymama; I would just draw a hard line about the January get-out. I know the holidays are all about helping your fellow (wo)man, but ugh. Nothing like a skulking stranger in your house, helping herself to your halvah!
Hi there. I drifted by through Jennifer (Faking It) by way of Kristy (Whatever Mom). Gosh, I'm sure not getting alot done tonight.
Anyway, wanted to let you know about cold sores - i've suffered on an off with these since I was 12!
I finally got a prescription for Zovirax. Apply immediately when you get that tingling sensation. I hate the damn things with a passion. Good luck.
Great blog! :)
Sometimes the kindest thing a person can do is force someone out of their comfort zone. Babymama won't make positive choices until she is forced to do so. You may need to give her a move out timeline and stick to it. Although this may break your heart, it will probably give Babymama the push she needs to be responsible. Take it from me, I'm a social worker. I see this stuff all the time.
Good luck!
Post a Comment
<< Home