Shoulda told him “I ate the other five while I shopped. Be careful over in Aisle Five. ;)”
I never mentioned that kaylasmom is blind from birth, and I do the cooking?
Huh.
ETA: Your ideas are sound, though, and I’ll see if I can find some way of incorporating them into our lifestyle. Thanks! 
It’s nice being able to talk to a doctor about cramps at all! I didn’t find a doctor who would listen until I was in college…up until then, the (female!) ones I encountered would pretty much just pat me on the head and tell me to go buy some Midol and a heating pad.
And the insane bloating/water retention! I have a few pairs of pants that just don’t fit right when I’m expecting The Visitor, and even my fingers get just puffy enough to keep me from wearing certain rings.
Thanks for the hugs, y’all. The counselor sent me a list of therapists and other resources, and Girl 2.0 and I talked when she got home. Apparently, the cutting has been going on since February, but only occasionally - perhaps between 10 and 15 episodes. AIUI, this is still early, so I’m confident that we can work on the issues before things get really bad. I’m not really beating myself up - I know that adolescence is an absolute hellhole for most normal-ish kids, and there’s a history of major depressive illness in my family. I think, if anything, I’m relieved that we’re catching the symptoms so early so that we can seek help.
Part of the conversation with G2, however, made me really, really sad: Of her little clique of five friends, there’s a former cutter who moved on to having an eating disorder, two who currently cut themselves, a gay kid who’s afraid to come out to his father, and a girl who came out to her parents last year and has since taken to “borrowing” medication from her grandmother - her parents are trying to “pray the gay away.” These are good kids - smart, good grades, middle class with loving families - but they’re so young and so sad. I want to start having the whole gang over every week for tea and sympathy and a little unconditional love and acceptance of who they are. Poor babies…
:smack:
That’s what I get for assuming, and I do know better than that. :smack:
I’m sure you have mentioned it in the past, but while I will admit to semi-stalking you because I love your responses…I never went further than that.
She must be a very special person to have such a wonderful person as you love her as much as you do.
If it will help any, sprinkling some lemon juice on the fruit salad will stop things from turning brown…if you make enough for a couple of days.
Good thinking. Now that we’re empty-nesters, making fruit salad might turn out to not be a waste of time and food.
Although being a night shift worker for the past six years has resulted in my getting into lazy food-preparation habits. OTOH, I did buy some bananas for the first time in several years this morning.
They’re those two dimples above the butt that some people have.
Another method for keeping the fruits in fruit salad from oxydizing: make sure they’re covered by the liquid.
Being a teenager now sucks. I made a point to all TheKid’s friends that they were welcome here anytime, no judgement. They could come under the influence, but no drugs or alcohol were allowed on my property. They also knew I’m a mandatory reporter and would do what I felt necessary for them to be safe. I’ve been told by a few of the kids that knowing they had welcoming home kept them okay.
Just stock up on Kool-Ade, pizza rolls, and (weirdly) butter crackers.
Today I have a sad instead of a rant. TheKid quit a job today. She knew her primary job is going away (new ownership - soon to be new boss is a dick) so she took a second job at a chain pharmacy. Not her thing. She is meant to work in a kitchen. So, she quit. She’s spent all night thinking she’s a failure. She’s 20, this was her second job ever, she’s been at her first job for over two years, she doesn’t have a mortgage, no car payment, and a very decent savings account - enough to cover her other bills for a long time. She is okay, but she cannot see it.
Not to diminish other, more serious issues being discussed in here, but…
Around here they don’t just put the ribbon of tape around the bunch, they also put a cap of clear tape over the top of the bunch to make it that much harder to break it up. The fact that it is plain ol’ clear tape makes the motive crystal-clear.
It isn’t like this issue is driving me… I don’t know, bananas or anything, but it sure is annoying and Somebody has to rant about it. I am not a banana eating machine, and neither are most people. Give me the freedom to buy just a couple of bananas fer cryin’ out loud.
Last week I had a pocket knife on me, and I used it to cut the tape so I could buy just 3 bananas. I was observed doing this by a cute young female co-shopper, so I leaned in conspiratorially and said, “Don’t tell anyone.” She looked at me like I was crazy and said she wouldn’t.
If it helps at all…and it almost certainly won’t - but I used to be a cutter. Sometimes the pain and confusion would get so big that hurting myself in a small, controllable way would help release it - I thought of it as a pressure valve. If this tiny thing hurts, some of the big stuff recedes. The part that I hope does help is that therapy did help. Having a virtual stranger listen and hear what I was saying - even if it sounded stupid in my own head - helped. It gave me a different release valve, one that didn’t bleed. I stopped cutting, and it did not turn into something worse. I learned coping mechanisms. I believe that Girl 2.0 will learn to process her pain better, especially with such a loving mom.
And yes, I was brilliant at hiding it, so no guilt on that front, please? Its not your fault. (((((hugs)))) to you and yours.
And feel free to PM me if you want to know more about my cutting, or just to vent to someone.
Leaving a job for the first time is terribly hard. My father never did; at one point he was subject for several years to an extremely hostile work environment (his employers wanted him to quit so they wouldn’t have to compensate him), but he just couldn’t conceive of leaving. For me it was a PhD-track course of study/job which I left because my advisor was stealing my research (and that of other students) and his superiors were either in cahoots with him or worse (I also made sure that the school would get on the case). There was every reason under the sun to leave, I still felt like it was me who had failed. Everybody I know who’s left jobs says the same: the first time was enormously hard, sometimes absurdly so.
I hope she gets a good cooking job soon. One where she stays for so long that eventually her younger coworkers will think she was born in that kitchen.
Bananas, ick. But a good source of potassium and probably very good for you.
Plan for leftovers. On Sunday, I made salmon omelets with cream cheese and chopped chives. Yeah, that did involve using the stove, but only one pan. I mixed the left over salmon and chives up into a lunch spread for yummy samwiches. (buy the omega rich fake mayo, its pretty good) I also wacked up a bunch of fruit for breakfast and then was able to mix with yogurt and whole grain for him to take for breakfast today.
You can buy pre-cut veggies. They are more expensive, but if you are pressed for time, its a lot easier to just dump something out of a bag than it is to cut it up.
Seriously…eat a rainbow every day. Fresh fruit and veggies are better than canned, but if that’s all you have time for, eat the canned stuff.
Yes, and that is a very good method, but then you have to deal with the liquid while putting lunches together while your eyes are still closed.
Me is the laziest person on the earth…I know this stuff
My rant for today is other gray hound owners. Our Buttercup isn’t fat. If I buy her a treat after she goes to the vet, don’t feel her up and then bitch at me. She’s fine, she’s happy, the vet says she’s fine and I think she’s fine. Its not like she’s going to go back to her old career, she’s retired and can have a treat now and then if I want to give her one.
I swear to gawd, I’ve never seen that sort of judgmental dog breed idiots before. I sure wish I could properly channel Lynn Bodini. She would have known just what to say.
Indeed. At least the doctor said that was the most likely cause of that particular pain and sensation, but cutting me open to find out and try to fix it would just cause more raw bits that could get stuck to something. At least it’s stretched since then, so it’s not quite as pully as it used to be.
Owie owie ow fuck ow.
yes please
Do I have to tell BF that that’s what they are called? I didn’t know and I always comment on how cute they are. It would swell his head.
{{{Lacunae & G1}}} teenage years are hard even when good parents. I hope you both get through it relatively unscathed.
I’m heading into tween years myself, and I just hope that I can do better than my parents.
Stupid phone, double post.
raventhief, thank you. It does help me to hear your experience, and to know that I can PM you if I have questions. I’ve made the decision, for now, to not broadcast what the Girl is going through - my mom has a horrible talent for saying exactly the wrong thing, at the wrong moment, and making sure that the whole freaking ZIP code is kept abreast of any development in her family’s private life; and Tony’s mom is a worrier without equal. For right now, I’m not even discussing this with G2’s dad - he thinks that “just snap out of it” is effective treatment for any illness that can’t be imaged or cultured. So it helps to have someone I can discuss things with, even if I just need to vent because I’m frustrated, or to help me understand. (I never cut. I drank - oh God did I drink. I coped in other unhealthy ways. I think I have a glimmer of comprehension, but part of me still wants to try to apply logic to a profoundly illogical problem.)
I used to follow this guy on Twitter. I followed him because he’s a local Montreal media guy and I figured he’d be a good news source. But his informative posts usually had to include some snark, and it began to annoy me. I don’t usually mind snark, but having mostly snarky posts most of the time just got tiring. Add to that the time he reported that there was a terrible fire in our city, and simply commented “Ruh-roh” on it, and you’ve earned yourself an “unfollow,” buddy.