SacMomsClub.com

My blogging has been quite sporadic as of late as I’m dealing with a computer virus, Trojan in origin, Backdoor in specificity. This virus pretty much makes your computer dump out on you when you’re surfing the net. It’s especially bad to have your computer crap out on you when you’re in the middle of ordering Christmas presents online. This Trojan used to create pop-ups of a pornographic nature, too, but somehow the virus software I downloaded at least took the horse’s legs off. It’s still on my system and it’s not going anywhere. There’s a lengthy process to completely eliminate it, but that would require time, which I generally don’t have. I’m stealing a couple of minutes to type this on Word and then to cut and paste it onto the blogger since anytime I actually try to use the SacMomsClub blogger, it freezes up on me and I have to open new windows and start over.

My computer’s not the only thing with virus on the brain. Thanks to an episode of Yo Gabba Gabba, our 3 ½ year-old daughter’s been afraid of “ugly, yucky germs.” This is problematic in many ways. For one, she no longer wants to wipe herself after she pees because she’s afraid of getting her hands contaminated. She also cries and whines out of the blue at things touching other things. And she wants to be carried most everywhere out of fear that her feet will meet the germs lurking on the floor. Apparently, she has little faith in my housecleaning skills.

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At first glance, Yo Gabba Gabba is just weird. I kind of liked it though because of guest stars and musical videos and Super Martian Robot Girl and its general randomness. But now, I think it’s a propaganda-driven hallucinogenic dance party.

One upside is that I told her that poopoo is filled with germs, so she’s been making more of an effort to eliminate and not holding it in. That coupled with fiber tabs has made for a more relaxed week in the bowel department. Baby steps, I keep telling myself. She’ll be four in March and so many of her neuroses will be gone by then, or so they keep telling me. Bonaducci reassured my husband 4 ½ at the latest. If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll still be a little constipated weirdo at 34 ½ .

So, I finally got the house to myself and I decided to recharge my battery with a fauxcha (or, fake mocha = espresso, hot cocoa mix, cinnamon and milk). My husband took our daughter to the mall to let her play at her favorite playground. I call it Mario World since it's reminiscent of more than one level of SuperMario World. Anyway, that's where they are and the house is quiet with the exception of the clicking of the keys. Oh, crap. Now the phone's ringing, but you know what? I'm gonna let it ring.

I admit, it's nice to have a break. It's necessary. Especially considering the how the past few weeks have been If you've read my blog before, you know that my son's been snubbing his school work and more imporantly the management of his diabetes. He doesn't get the big picture yet, that all the high blood sugars he's getting now ARE doing long-term damage to his kidneys. The problem with our children is that they live in a disposable world. In their eyes, if something is broken, they can throw the old one away and get a new one. I think he believes that by the time his kidneys go bad that scientists will have created artificial kidneys or at least a medicine that will rejuvinate the kidneys.

Aside from my son's nonchalant attitude towards school and lackluster diabetic management, I think on a psychoemospiritual level, he's on the right path. His friend's father died a couple of weeks back and he's been showing marked concern for his friend who's been out of school the whole time. He talks about his friend and wonders what his father died from. He shares his concern of his own parents' health. I assure him that we're in great shape. He seems relieved by that news, but I can see in his eyes that this doesn't completely allay his fears. He remembers his Uncle David dying a few weeks after we'd just been to a roaring pirate party with him. He knows how sudden and arbitrary everything is. Just like his diabetes diagnosis. The kid's no fool. "I want to go to Jay's father's funeral." This kind of shocked me. "You do?" "Well, I know it'll be a little uncomfortable since I never even met his dad, but I wanna be there for Jay." I felt like crying after hearing my son speak with so much maturity and compassion. I forgot about the daily woes and felt proud of him. He is a good kid.

Also, if you're a continuing reader, you know that our daughter's been a little backed up. At first, involuntarily and then, after the fear of a giant LOG coming out of her bottom, voluntarily. We had another four days of hell, but today, she finally went. I've been doing everything I know how to make it easier for her to get the suckers out, but she's still holding 'em in, regardless of the fact that the last TWO movements themselves were painless. I've increased her fluid intake, increased her fiber, added a fiber chewable, added poop incentives, took away any fear of punishment if she craps in her undies (which she does in small amounts four to six times a day) and still, the holding in. I know it's a phase and it's getting easier to deal with everyday. But it makes me extra thankful for the times when she has a movement. I think I'm more relieved than her.

Life's been pretty busy. Not to mention, the group I'm in, the Sacramento Craft Mafia are holding GET MADE HOLIDAY:

Pardon the shameless self-promotion. ;) 

Gotta get back to work while the house is quiet. Thanks for letting me vent.