Well, little SR had a doctor's appointment Monday. The X-rays showed that her thigh bones are moving up to where they should be. SR suffers from bilateral hip dysplasia, which means that the balls of her thigh bones that normally rest in the socket part of the pelvis are not where they should be. Now her thigh bones are with an inch or so of where they should be. Seems like the surgery she had a few months ago that stretched the tendons in her groin worked better than we thought it would. Now if she can ever get out of her brace . . .
Pat has a birthday coming up soon (next month!). He'll be 13 years old. Geez, two teenagers in the house at the same time. Give me strength. Let's see, that makes the ages of the kids in the house 14, 13, 6, 4 and 2. Oy. And people wonder why I'm insane?
I have come to the conclusion that discussing politics in the house will not be conducive to my health. The Better Half is an Edwards supporter, and I am a hardcore Bush/Cheney supporter. Therefore, in the interests of continued mental and physical health, I hereby resolve not to discuss politics at home anymore. Religion is still allowed, since The Better Half and I are both Catholic. Can't be much variance there.
Like I've stated before, I don't want this to be a political forum. However, I can't help but be fascinated by the Kerry meltdown occurring lately. I swear, it's like watching a slow motion train wreck. The final result will be fascinating to watch.
Sheesh. Here it is the middle of August and we're still
waiting on word about SR's adoption being finalized. Typical bureaucracy, can't move a book from one bookcase to another without forms being filled out in quadruplicate. I swear, sometimes I think the deck is stacked against us.
Rich the Marine called from Yuma the other morning. He told me that he is definitely going to Japan either late this year or early next year. I guess he hasn't learned yet that rules are made to be broken. I've told him before, if the Marines think they need you somewhere, that's where you'll be. I hope he doesn't get sent to the sandbox, but if he does, I'm sure he'll do us proud. I've been thinking about that a lot lately (guess it's my morbid streak showing itself again), and I've been wondering how I'd react if he went to the sandbox and were killed in action. That kind of thinking usually drives me around the bend (which is usually not that far ahead, for me) so I tend to not do very much of it. Guess I'll leave it all in God's hands and let Him take care of my son.
I just sent the zoo crew to bed. Now they're upstairs talking, thinking that I can't hear them. Of course, if I weren't sitting at the bottom of the stairs typing on this, I probably wouldn't hear them, but they don't know that. And I'm not about to tell them.
OK, I'm back. KC's pump was beeping, so I had to go turn it off. As I may have mentioned in the past, KC is incapable of swallowing (liquids or solid foods), so he is fed through a G-tube (a small tube surgically implanted into his stomach through his skin). His food consists of Pediasure™ which is pumped through the tube into his stomach. The pump itself is pretty cool -- you can change the rate of feeding from 10 cc/hour up to several hundred cc/hour. It has a self-contained battery which is good for up to eight hours of use, and a holder which continually recharges the battery while the pump is attached. He's used to it (I think), but since I can't exactly ask him, I have to take the doctors' word for it.
Not much else going on around here, and I don't really want to get into a political discussion at the present time. Besides, there are many political blogs out there, and I am neither informed enough nor smart enough to try to discuss politics. All I know is (and you may quote me on this), before I'd vote for Kerry, I'd volunteer for the first manned Mars mission. On a single person ship. Using conventional propulsion methods. Do the math.
Some wag once said that raising teenagers was like nailing Jell-o™ to a tree. To which I can add a hearty "Amen!". JT turns 14 this week, and apparently this is the magical age where someone can do no wrong. At least, if you ask him, that's what it is. He's wanting to know why he doesn't have more freedoms to do things his friends do, etc. Well, when you're 14 physically but only about 9 mentally, you don't get the things everybody else does. Try explaining that to him -- go ahead, I'll wait.
SR is two now and continuing to gain weight; slowly, but at least she's not regressing. No news yet on when the adoption will be finalized. I swear, sometimes it seems like the Dept. of Social (no)Services' specialty is foot-dragging. I've seen executions progress faster than this.
I'm trying my best to avoid politics like the plague it is, especially since now I find out The Better Half™ is leaning towards supporting JF'inKerry. I got embroiled in a political discussion last week at work (ended up being more like a pissing match) which gave me a headache for the rest of the day. Note to self: DO NOT discuss religion or politics with anyone, period.
A friend of mine (whom I've never met, but feel like I know) started a blog a short while ago. For the two people who actually ever read this drivel, please go check out The Humble Devildog
's site. At the moment, he's posting on the subject of religion. Don't let that scare you off; I've learned a thing or two from him, and I have yet to read a better piece on worship than what he's done. Keep up the good work, Devildog!