Saturday, March 24, 2012

Everybody Wang Chung Tonight

Friday nights are always "to-go" nights.  I never cook on Fridays.  It's fast food or I'll pick up something to-go from a restaurant.   Well, last night, Pat was craving Chinese food.  Ok, easy enough, the Chinese place is next door to Subway, I can knock out everyone at once and don't have to drive to 4 places because each person is demanding something different.  I get the subs and the kids' orange cokes (huge mistake---as if they're not psycho enough.  I don't know why I always fall for their begs and puppy faces)  I walk to grab his Chinese.  There's only one couple in line ahead of me, so I just prop the drinks on top of each other, under my chin (because we all know I have the most awesome balance....EVER!) and I'm waiting.   Ok, well, this chick in front of me is one of "those chicks" that I used to end up next to when I was on the elliptical at the gym --  you know, back when I used to actually go to the gym.    She's got her little running shorts on with her matching tank top, holding a reusable water canister thing, and has a stop watch attached to her hip.  She weighs all of, oh I dunno...73 pounds.  Then she starts the questions:

Chick: "Ummm, what's in the seafood special?" 
Cashier: "Shrimp, Lobster, Scallops, Clams...yadda yadda served over rice."

Chick:  "Well, what else besides rice can it be served with?" 
Me: *to myself*  How bout you just eat the damn shrimp and leave the rice? Or are you also going to argue that shellfish can lead to mercury poisoning?

Chick: "Does it contain MSG?"   Because I won't eat MSG."  
Me: Oh, lemme guess, you've been googling shit again.  Bet for a million bucks, you can't tell me what MSG is or why you won't eat it.

Chick: "What kind of sauce is on it?"
Cashier: "It's a white sauce."
Chick: "Does the white sauce contain flour?"
Me: *getting irritated and shuffling my feet to re-balance the drinks*   "What kind of white sauce DOESN'T contain flour??  I mean, I'm not a Culinary graduate or anything, but last time I checked, what makes the base of a white sauce is butter mixed with freakin' flour!!  Can you please move your little Nike clad self and let me grab my Lo Mein and General Tso's that I ordered like 20 minutes ago??"

Chick: "Can I get the white sauce without flour?"
Holy crap, are you kidding me??
Cashier to Chef:  "Chingkaopaynaychowmangmangchangpow?"
*Which in my mind translates to "This idiot wants to know if you can make her white sauce without flour."*
Chef to Cashier: "Maochowkungpoulomeintaowangchung"
*Translated:  "Um, no, that's why it's called a white sauce!  Just tell her I can to shut her up, and I'll make it the way it's always made. She looks like she needs to add some carbs to her diet anyway."
Cashier:  "Yes, ma'am, he do that fo you."

Chick:  "Is this meal gluten free?" 
OH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL HOLY HELL!!

At this point, I'm having to physically restrain myself from dumping these 2 cups full of saccharine-infested, artificially-flavored high-fructose corn syrup all over her little bouncing ponytail.

And finally, the icing on the cake...

Chick:  "Oh, and do not put any soy sauce in it at all.  I don't consume salt."

This is when the "Jeff Swindol vein" is bulging out of the side of my head!   I wanted to yell out, "Hey Wang Chung, you know those little shredded carrots that I HATE, but still get, because I hate being ticky while ordering?  Just leave those out of my food, dump them in a bowl, and hand them to her, because she's not going to eat anything else you've got back there!" 

Bitch, if you're so freakin' worried about every tiny morsel of food that goes in your body, then WHY are you at a fast food take-out Chinese restaurant??  Go home and eat a salad (with all the gluten-free dressing you can get your grubby little paws on) if you think you're Jillian Michaels.  I mean, seriously, I can see every bone in your clavicle as it is, do you REALLY think that splash of soy sauce is going to make you look like Chaz Bono?   What is the deal with all this gluten-free crap anyway?  Why is there always a new trend of food that I'm apparently going to die of cancer if I consume?  -- But yet, somehow, 6 months ago, that same food apparently CURED cancer.  I don't get it. 

It's just so freakin' irritating when I'm trying to get in and out of a restaurant, especially if it's fast food, and you've got some fitness guru in front of you asking about calories, saturated fat, and if the dressings have any preservatives.  Seriously, get your perfectly chiseled ass out of the way and let me order my McDouble!

Some days, I just really hate people.  Well, take that back....EVERY day, I hate people.







Alright, now that my little rant of the day is over, I've gotta go cook dinner.  And I'm gonna make sure to add EXTRA gluten, sugar, salt, starch and maybe even throw in some arsenic while I'm at it.   Nomnomnomnomnom....


Later,

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Sick For The Cure

Last week was Spring Break week, and we went to our favorite place on earth---Gatlinburg!  We stayed in a gorgeous cabin and went shopping, drove around in the mountains, went to the Aquarium, and all the other things we love to do when we go there.  East Tennessee is my happy place and I NEVER want to come home.  

 *sniff* I wanna be back there.

Only downfall we had?  Shelby got into something, we're still not sure what, that caused her to break out in a rash that covered her legs and arms.  Poor thing looked like a little leper.  And of course, being the eight year old that she is, we couldn't get her to quit scratching at it, which made it a million times worse. 

So when we got home, I took her to the doctor, because I wasn't sure if she was allergic to something, or if it was a reaction that went beyond that.  The doc said most likely it was just a reaction from something environmental.  Whatever it was, it was pretty rough looking, so she put her on antibiotics and steroids.

Now, before I go further, you've got to understand some things about my precious Shelby.  She's....um....well, she's a firecracker.   She's got the sweetest, tender heart.  She cries any time there's a hurt animal on TV, or when she watches Disney movies, she sits in her room and writes sweet letters to her teachers, because she loves them so much, she loves and kisses all over Gibson, and she'll give hugs to anyone---even just walking through the mall, she'll walk up and hug little old ladies.  But there's also the OTHER side of Shelby.  That girl has an attitude that could rival the girls on The O.C.  If I say the sky is blue, then by god, she's gonna find a way to make it green and prove me wrong.  There are times when I'll use reverse psychology on her, just to get her to cooperate, because she refuses to comply if it's my idea.  She can torture Patrick just by staring at him, and she can drive me to the brink of madness with her defiance.   But deep down, she really is a sweet little soul who just wants to be independent.

 My Sweet, Beautiful, Precocious Girl

But back to the story.   I go to pick up the prescriptions, and the pharmacist asks if I have any questions.  Well, considering we might as well have stock in Augmentin, I pretty much know the routine with that one.  But I'd heard other people, mostly adults, talk about all the negative crap they dealt with on steroids.  I wasn't sure if it was the same way for kids.  So I just casually asked, "Are there any weird effects with the steroids?"  And the girl  replied, "Well, it can make them sorta irritable."  Just like that, no big deal, just irritable.  I was like "Um, okay, well, she's irritable all the time, what else is new."

NOWHERE in the side effects list did it mention that she was going to be playing the lead role in the next E! True Hollywood Story:  Beautiful Children Who Slaughter Entire Communities.    Holy CRAP!!  What the hell do they put in this stuff??  I've seen people on PCP who aren't as psycho as she is on this junk.   I'm not talking about the usual rolling of the eyes, stomping down the hallway, or screaming childlike profanities about me behind closed doors.   Oh, no, any minute now, I'm expecting the kid from Pet Cemetery to come walking through my room.  You know, this kid:


I actually laid here with one eye opened, because I seriously was worried that she was going to come in and slice my Achilles tendon while I slept.  One minute, she's bawling her head off, begging me to write a note to her P.E. teacher because "my leg hurts too much to run."  Two minutes later, she's all but swinging from the balcony from a rope, just to tackle Patrick, because apparently he took a quarter that she claimed was hers.  The girl will try any and everything to get out of P.E. (Can't say I really blame her there, though.  It was torturous for me, too. I'm too self-conscious and not exactly a fan of people watch me openly make a fool of myself.  It happens accidentally enough as it is.) but this was just ridiculous.  I'm not trying to send her to a concentration camp!

Then I made the mistake of showing her the new summery clothes I'd bought her for school, that also had matching jeweled sandals.   Being the Fashion Club member that she is, she completely freaked out and begged to wear the new skirt and sandals to school.  Of course, today being P.E. day, I said "No, wait and wear them on Thursday."   At that moment, you would've thought I just beheaded a puppy right in front of her.   She immediately threw herself on the floor, screaming and sobbing, and going on about how she's never going to school again, and she's never going to have a boyfriend (remember--she's EIGHT!) and she hates everything and she's never going to be happy again.  For a minute there, it was like watching Lindsay Lohan get told that she was gonna have to spend 45 minutes in jail for stealing $20,000 worth of jewelry.



I just kinda stood there in stunned silence.  First of all, I'm not a cryer.  I'm either a "bottle up your emotions until you fly off the deep end" or a "turn your sadness and homicidal rage into sardonic humor" kinda girl.  (Hey, don't judge, it works for me....and look, you wouldn't have any blogs to read if I wasn't that way.)  So trying to wrap my brain around the 8 year old version of a hormonal-infested 90210 breakdown was not something I'd brushed up on in my parenting manuals lately.  So I did what any level-headed, confident, mentally stable, disciplinarian mother would do.....I turned and ran upstairs and left her screaming and sobbing in her dad's office.


Seriously, I did it for her own safety....and to torture him just a little bit.  Why should I always have to deal with the meltdowns?  Pure innocent fun, I tell ya!  It'll prepare him for what he has to look forward to in a few years.  A hormonal wife AND daughter!

I had to keep telling myself, "it's the meds, it's the meds, she's not gonna kill you in your sleep, it's the meds, it's the meds, don't strangle her, don't spike her drink with horse tranquilizers"  But at some point, you finally just have enough and have to give up, go to bed, and hope for a better day tomorrow.   I do have to admit, it was a fitful night's sleep, though.  It's pretty hard to settle into dreamland, having visions of a man with Ian Somerhalder's face and Alan Rickman's voice when in the back of your mind you keep envisioning



So from this point on, if the pharmacist ever vaguely mentions the fact that some medicine might cause my child to be "sorta irritable,"  I will now know to drive immediately to the hardware store for some soundproof padding, ropes, and a huge pad-lock.   Sorta irritable, my ass.    Now I'm just hoping that she makes it through the day at school without pulling a Carrie and setting the gymnasium on fire.  (Remember----she's not a fan of P.E.)

Starting tomorrow, I think she's just gonna have to deal with the itching....


Peace out, guys!  Til next time, signin' out: 











I have no idea why, but for some reason, I now can't get this song out of my head.  *sigh*  They just don't make music (or music videos) like this anymore.