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Come and sail away with me…

February 15, 2012 by The Captain

Tonight I received the news that an old family friend had passed away this week in a small plane crash.  J.C. Waters – builder of “The Spirit of Independence”, a 65 foot schooner that was launched in the Missouri River and sailed out into the ocean – was killed in the horrific small plane crash that also claimed the life of the pilot, and owner of the Piper Cherokee, Ronald Strahm.  Mr. Strahm was the owner of the Misty River Equestrian Center, a facility that I pass by quite often on my way to my grandmother’s house.

J.C. was a man that I didn’t know well but have many memories of.  His boat shop on the Independence Square was like a second home to my brothers, who were there all the time, helping my grandfather weld the frame of “The Spirit of Independence”, spending hours at a time there every Sunday afternoon.  My grandad and J.C. were very close, building ships, telling tall tales and just shooting the breeze in general.

My grandpa died many years ago, and J.C. ended up finishing the boat himself.  Pop never got to see the christening, the launch and mercifully, the passing of his dear friend.  So, tonight, I am thinking of my Pop, a HUGE black boat with massive sails and the man who built her.  Goodbye, JC, and smooth sailing…

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Wacktoid #1 – It’s not easy being green

December 31, 2011 by The Captain

♪ ♫ And we’ve come… to the end of the road… ♫ ♪ (Which you now know I get car sick on…)  And that’s a very nice lead in to my TOP freakout – the one that absolutely weirds me out – that I could live the rest of my life without… Wacktoid #1 – PUKE!

Ever since I was a kid, I have hated to puke.  I hate the feeling, the building up, the doing it, and then the whole process repeating for however long the misery lasts.  I hate it MORE THAN ANYTHING!  More than dolls, puppets, clowns, spiders, the dark – you name it and I hate puke more than anything.

This kind of goes with the fear of germs that I have, and ties in with the motion sickness, and has to do with my already poor health.  But I fear puke like nothing else.  There is actually a term for people like this – emetophobic (it means that we have the intense, irrational fear or anxiety pertaining to vomiting).  And, I am like this with myself and everyone around me.

If Boy, or even worse Will, gets the stomach flu I freak out because I KNOW I AM NEXT.  I have a full arsenal of anti-nausea meds, both prescription and OTC, plus the holistic stuff, the wrist bands, the flat sodas, everything.  I melt at the thought of Boy having a sleepover and one of the kids getting sick.  I ask everyone that wants Boy to come over if anyone there has been sick.  We don’t eat or drink after people and if anyone even mentions not feeling well, I will call off whatever plans we may have had and avoid them like the plague they are carrying until I know for a fact that it’s safe.

I don’t eat anything that upsets my stomach, I WILL NOT DRINK because I could get sick from that, I will burn beef and chicken to make sure it gets cooked well enough, will not touch raw cookie dough, will Lysol the heck out of the kitchen after working with raw meat or eggs.  If you come to my house you are expected to walk immediately to the nearest sink and wash your hands for 20 seconds.  If you have been sick, even if you are SURE that it was food poisoning, I want nothing to do with you or anyone around you for the foreseeable future.  I am that serious.

For these reasons, I would like to say that it’s been nice knowing all of you, but I will not go out where alcohol is served, you can’t drink here (just in case) and I won’t be socializing, in person, until the school year has come to a full and complete end (why do you guys think I homeschool AND only have the one kid, really?) and the germs have had time to dissipate.  All human contact must be stopped to prevent the possible spread of contagion and all my meals should be brought in from outside, hermetically sealed, and transported by EPA agents in full bunny suits.

Since that’s about as likely as me having all that dental work done – I think I will just keep my hands washed, keep away from sick people (or sick looking people), and pray to God that we can make it though another year puke free.  I, for one, will be ringing in the new year with Root Beer and Twinkies… the safest things I can think of to ingest.

On that note, thanks to all of you for sticking with me for anther year!  It’s been a lot of fun running the show and commanding the ship through 2011 and we are looking forward to all the things to come in 2012.  Through the legal battles, health problems, having the dog die suddenly, having to sell the house and move AGAIN, Will losing his job AGAIN and then starting a new job AGAIN, it’s sure been quite the journey.

I still have Will and Boy, Patch and The Admiral are also hanging in, as is Toss (my brother) and no name (my other brother Darrell).  I still talk with Ino and Dr. Crushim quite frequently and enjoy the hi-jinks of their 3 cadets as they get older and more interesting.  Lt. Ihearya is still around here, somewhere, too.  We even picked up a new crew member this year, Lt. Commander Vigo Roundabout – our navigator, and having him just our voyage has been a great blessing.

Everyone be safe, tell your loved ones how you feel about them, cut down on your salt intake, save your pennies, have your cholesterol checked, don’t drive drunk, watch out for wet floor signs, choose your spouse wisely, protect your identity and wash yours hands.  You are important to us here at Mom Trek and we look forward to anther year with all of you!  I hope that you had a fantastic 2011 and have a promising 2012.

From our family to yours…

Love long and prosper!

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Wacktoid #2 – It’s like pulling teeth

December 31, 2011 by The Captain

Nearly at the very top of my list is a #2 Wacktoid… I worry about my teeth – A LOT.

My mom was in poor health during her pregnancy with me and I was born with very weak teeth.  Of course, we didn’t find this out at birth, but right about the time that I had a cavity in every tooth in my head and some of my baby teeth were breaking off – we kinda started to catch on to something.

When you have fragile teeth as a kid, it can make you a little leery of the dentist.  Every time I went to see that guy it was more pain, more work and more recovery.  But, he got me through my childhood and into my adult teeth, which haven’t proven to be a whole lot sturdier.

I have several thousands of dollars worth of dental work in my mouth right now and I need even more – but I truly hate the dentist.  I can’t find one that I like, trust and am willing to subject myself to a drill for.  I had one guy, he was recommended to me, and I went to see him a few times.  I told him how terrified I am of the dentist and of having anything other than just the basics done – I didn’t want no fancy mumbo-jumbo, just clean ‘em, drill ‘em, fill ‘em and let me go. At the end of our appointment, his “care coordinator” took me into an office and presented me with a treatment plan – totaling over $7000!

They had put in for teeth whitening – both in office and at home, replacing some of my crowns with a new style (just to update them, I was told) and they wanted to remove all my fillings and put in porcelain ones to match the color of my teeth, plus the legitimate work that I needed like cleaning and x-rays.  Um, yeah… right.  You don’t tell a patient that is afraid of the dentist, has warned you there is no money or desire for the cosmetic stuff and obviously has to work hard, mentally, at just coming in the door that they need $7000 worth of work – AND MOST OF IT ISN’T COVERED BY INSURANCE!!!

I have not been to the dentist since.  I won’t tell you how embarrassingly long ago that encounter was.  But, I do worry about my teeth all the time.  I have dreams that they all fall out.  I don’t crew foods that could pull off any of my crowns and I don’t eat things that are really hard, so I don’t have to worry as much about chipping and breaking.  I would love to go in and have all my teeth veneered, I would love to have a mouth full of movie star white, straight, perfect teeth, but since God didn’t grant me that in utero and I am not independently wealthy, I don’t see it happening in my lifetime.

Please pass the mashed potatoes.

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Wacktoid #3 – Strokin’

December 31, 2011 by The Captain

It should be no surprise to anyone that my top three Wacktoids are health related.  Those of us in less than picture perfect health tend to obsess on these things.  What things…?  The things that could kill us.  Wacktoid #3 is that I am deathly (ha, ha.. get it?) afraid of having a stroke.

Some people fear cancer, others heart attacks, some just death in general, but for me it’s a stroke.  I DO know why that is.  Because I’ve already had one.

Fortunately, thank God, it was a small one, and I was able to fully (mostly) recover from it.  The stuff that is wrong with me, from that incident, is stuff that you wouldn’t know just from looking at me.  I get dizzy easily and never did before.  I have forgotten a lot of stuff from the past.  A LOT OF STUFF.  I have more trouble with names than I used to and some times I either can’t find my word or say the wrong one even though I can picture in my head the thing that I was supposed to say.

I worry that it is going to happen again, and be worse this time.  I worry because, since that “episode” we have discovered that there is something legitimate wrong with me and it could, reasonably, cause many more problems for me the older I get.  I do take medicate for my problem and I do the things I can to prevent a recurrence, but a stroke at 26 was not what I had planned for myself.

Every little headache that I get, every twinge behind my eye, every time I get a little confused or forget what I was going to the kitchen for halts me in my tracks as I run FAST.  I don’t literally run fast… I run through the F.A.S.T. check for stroke victims…

Face – I smile am make sure both side of my face pull up evenly.  Any drooping on one side is a cause for concern.

Arm – I raise both arms and make sure they get to the same height and that I have no weakness.

Speech – I make myself say a simple sentence out loud and listed for any problems and make sure I can remember all the words – and spit them out at will.  I usually do a simple tongue twister like “Peter Piper picked a peck…” or “Sally sells seashells…” to check for slurring.

Test* – I make sure I can recall my address, my date of birth, my full name, where I am right then and whatever else seems prudent to check.  (On the warning sign sheets, T always stands for Time, but I do better checking myself by testing through a few questions.  If I had any of these problems, I already know it would be Time to call an ambulance!)

I have found my self running through this “checker” in the grocery store, at the mall, at home and in the car.  I may be a bit paranoid, but you better believe that the first time I slur Sally’s name, the ER is going to hear about it.

So, if you see a woman out in public, smiling and feeling her face, flapping her arms and repeating nursery rhymes out loud, for no apparent reason, you might want to check on her.  It could save a life – or a few brain cells.  In my case, I’m not sure how many I have left to spare.

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Wacktoid #4 – Entirely too loud and obnoxious

December 29, 2011 by The Captain

Wacktoid #4 – is weird, even to me and I have to live with it.  I hate loud noises, all of them.  And repetitive noises, all of those too.

Another one of those “I don’t know when this started” deal, I wig at both loud or repeated sounds.  I think it might be because my ears are super sensitive, but having the TV above a whisper or a booming radio makes me feel like the top of my head is going to pop off.  It actually feels like my ears are trying to close themselves off to try to block out some of the sound.

Occasionally Boy will have a sleepover and I can hear him and his cousin in Boy’s bedroom talking – I will holler out an answer to a question that they didn’t ask me or I will stop their stupid ideas from being hatched before they can even take root.  The cousin can never figure out how I can do that, and they have actually accused me of eavesdropping outside the door – but I don’t and haven’t.  Not yet.  Not until they are teenagers.

I keep having to explain the difference of eavesdropping and overhearing to Boy, who has not yet got that figured out.  Just because I can hear him doesn’t necessarily mean that I am listening for it.  It’s just there, in the background, like light or air.  I have to work at filtering out sound because it always feels too overwhelming.

I can’t tell you how much I hate going to a casino.  I hate being in a fast food restaurant with the bells and dings and alarms.  Speaking of alarms, I hate my alarm clock.  The noise is so loud, on the rare occasions that I have to set it, that I will wake up early just to be able to shut it off before it can ring.  I keep my cell phone ringer turned down as far as I can and try not to let the house phones ring more than once, EVER.

I can happily sit in a brightly lit, silent room and read, or surf the interwebs, with no noise at all to interrupt my activity.  When I am in a room full of people, I can usually hear every individual conversation taking place AND can filter out the people I don’t care to hear so I can concentrate on the juicy stuff.  I don’t really read lips, I don’t sign, but, boy howdy, if you want to keep something from me you better find a better way to communicate than whispering – because I CAN STILL HEAR YOU!

So, I guess the moral of this story is, please try to be quiet, keep your radio turned down, the TV on mute with the CC on and, for pity’s sake, if you want to talk bad about me while I am around – write it down.  Otherwise, I may just come up and ask you about it to your face…

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Wacktoid #5 – That’s gross, hands down

December 29, 2011 by The Captain

And then there were 5.  Wacktoid #5 is brought to you today by the letter E.  As in, that’s the sound that I make when I have icky stuff on my hands…  EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I am something of a germaphobe.  I carry two bottles of hand sanitizer with me at all times, I don’t go out during the “sickest” time of the year.  I wash my hand compulsively.  I don’t touch my face, lick my fingers, bite my nails or sneeze into my hands.  I don’t let people who HAVE been sick come to my house for 2 weeks following the last time anyone in that household had symptoms of any sort.  I don’t care for germs.

I think that is the same reason that I don’t like anything sticky or messy on my hands.  I try to keep them neurotically clean.  I will wash and wash and wash while I am baking – unable to stand the feel of egg whites on my fingertips.  I WON’T touch raw meat for the same reason – I hate the texture of it.  I try not to mess with syrup, don’t like using hair gel, and could really do without even using hand lotion.  I like my hands clean and dry at all times.

But, you can rest assured that I won’t be the one contaminating your food, I won’t be the one transferring the flu virus to the salt shaker at Red Robin, and I won’t be the one that licks my fingers and then goes back through the line at the salad bar, touching all the tongs and spoons that you’re about to touch.  I will be the one freaking out in the corner, trying to figure out how to squeeze ketchup on my fries while covering the WHOLE bottle with a napkin and then sanitizing myself up to my elbows.  Bon appetit!

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Wacktoid #6 – The hair up there

December 29, 2011 by The Captain

And now the weird gets weirder.  Today’s Wacktoid is my #6 freakout – I can’t stand to have my hair in my face.  Or on my neck.  Or touching me, really.

I have had long hair ever since I was a kid.  When I was a little girl my mom had to help me wash it in the shower because there is so much of it.  It was so long that I could sit on it.   It took forever to comb and we didn’t even THINK about trying to dry it.  I had the kind of hair that boys knotted and then secured the knots with gum… right, E?  I only ever cut it short twice, once in my rebellious teenage years, and subsequently HATED it because it made my face look fat (just like everyone said it would); then again on my 30th birthday so that I could donate it to Locks of Love – that wasn’t so bad.

Going to the salon is an adventure in pain, it hurts to have someone who doesn’t care comb through it, it’s a lot of pulling to have it highlighted or colored and I gave up on perms after we hit 200 rods and I couldn’t hold up my head.

Now, I have learned that I just like to leave it long and pull it back in a ponytail or clip.  But, I don’t like it down.  At all.  Why?  It flies around.  It gets in my food.  It gets in my mouth.  It gets pulled, yanked, tugged and occasionally, when Boy was young, ripped out.  If I try on clothes I look as if I have been electrocuted.  I just don’t like it down.  I have slept in a ponytail or bun for a decade and spend most of my time in a jaw clips that went out in the 90′s… but I don’t feel like I am going to freak out that way, like I do when a single strand ends up stuck in my lipstick. Or in my dinner.  Or in YOUR dinner.

I could cut it short – but then I would have to do something with it, dry it, style it, whatever.  And that’s out too.  Plus, the whole “makes the face look fat” thing.  This way I can just wash it, comb it, mousse it and pull it back.  But I also have to be on the lookout constantly for clips, combs, barrettes, and ponytail holders that are age appropriate and NOT decorated in Hello Kitty.  I tell you, beauty is a never ending battle.  Maybe I should just start stocking up on hats…

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