HalfAsstic.com

Hello again, people.

A few days ago Keelan was sitting in living room on the couch reading her book  I was talking to Henrietta about something and I forget what we were discussing but it became necessary for me to use the word Fritos.  Well, let me preface this by explaining that the only thing worse than H’s hearing is her comprehension.  Her little mind races and she… tries too hard(?) and over thinks what you are saying and totally gets the words screwed up.  It’s like playing Password with a hyper, narcissistic, mental patient.

Anyway, as I was saying, I don’t remember what we were talking about but I used the word “Fritos”.   Only when I said it to H it was broken into two distinct syllables and enunciated very clearly.  FREE TOES! (Imagine me shouting into her ear…)   Well, Keelan tried to die.  First I heard her snort and then she said, “Did I just hear you say ‘free toes’?”  and she was gone.  Dissolved into a fit of giggles that wouldn’t stop.

Did not matter how hard I tried to explain to her why I had said it that way, she would. not. stop. laughing.

I finally just said “OK!  I’m from Texas AND SO ARE YOU!  Is it really so hard to figure out why I went “there” with the word?”

Now every time I want to make her smile, I just say “Free toes”.  And sometimes I text her, “Free toes”.

John is going to be on vacation next week, starting tomorrow and we have a list of things to do.  (oh yea)  He is going to need some time to recuperate from the hurricane schedule they have had to adhere to at work and truly I feel for him about this because I know he is truly tired.

But here’s the list anyway:

*Caulk the shingles

*Change phone companies

*Compare insurance rates, USAA and Allstate

*Make a new financial plan

*Track down and attack the person in charge of getting Medicare to give H a new wheelchair.

And this is just the beginning.

Thursday “they” came by and picked up all the brush piled on our curb since the hurricane.  Things are beginning to look a bit more normal around here.  At least our street is.  Except for all the sawed off trees and huge holes in the ground where they just pulled up, root ball and all.

I called Housecall Doctors today and asked them to tell me how the x-ray came out that they did on H on Thursday.  The Dr on call called me back and told me that, (surprise, surprise), she has a dislocated hip.  I said I already knew that and explained the problem to him and told him her history and what I was worried about.

He told me to take her to see a orthopedist.

This lady is an orthopedist’s wet dream.  I wonder where he’ll start?  I figure that’s one of the things that will go on John’s vacation list after I talk to Darnell, her PA.

Well, I really need to toss this post up and see what happens.  Will the pooter spit it back out?  It should.

Free Toes, everybody!

Hi intertubes people!  How’s it hangin?  We’re fine here and intend to be right up until we are washed away by Ike.  No, not really.  I don’t think he’s going to stray this far north, we’re just going to get a good deal of rain.  Oh well, we were behind in that department anyway.  I just hate getting caught up all at once…*sigh*

A few strange things happened today.  Firstly, my 17 year old girl child has gone to a City Council meeting with a friend of hers that is in a  US Government class.  Her friend says she needs, “moral support”.  Yeeeah.  Sure.  Keelan says she is going to have US Government next semester so why not?

John and I are taking bets on how long they are allowed to stay before being thrown out.  Their odds are not good.  Contact your bookie.

I have been sitting here watching The Weather Channel and I cannot, for the life of me, come up with a good solid reason for wanting to live in Cuba, year round, except for that pesky Castro not letting anyone leave…  I mean these people get totally flayed by multiple hurricanes every single year.  They wind up to cat 4 and 5 and go tearing across the island, sometimes twice per storm.  These people, for the most part, live in a near poverty situation and are flattened over and over.  Hundreds and hundreds die every year.  And they couldn’t leave if they wanted to.  Not even just for Hurricane season.  And that just seems wrong.  They should all be allowed to leave during the season for, oh, Europe or something…  God knows I wish I could.

Someone should complain.

H has a new caregiver provider person.  YES!  Again!  I know, I know.  I have reported this several times already, and no, I wasn’t lying.  The latest is “Tiffany”.  So far so good.  Please, everybody cross your fingers. She stayed here with H today while we ran frantically around for our allotted three hours.  Got back and she had done all the things I had verbally laid out for her to do.  And for those of you wondering, no, she won’t do taxes or windows.  Henrietta got a “bed bath” and put in the chair and her sheets changed.  Plus she cooked her breakfast and washed and figured out where to put all the dishes up.  All this was amidst her being visited by the nurse and then a very nice little lady from the church that comes by to give her communion.  I didn’t ask her to clean H’s bathroom or clean her room or anything cause we were having such a hard time getting out of here and she’s new, so I would have had to take more time than I already had when I showed her what to cook for her breakfast and how and where it all was.

I swear.  If she starts not showing up, I will scream.  She is very nice and H really likes her and each time she has left, Henrietta says, “Oh thank you so much for everything you did and please come back!”  How sad is that?  I will talk to her about trying to muster up a tear next time…

So far the contest has been hotly debated.  I have given up clues in the comments section, but, I swear, it’s something that is unusual to any mans dress shirt and is the reason John refuses to wear it.  It is an obvious thing at first glance and we should have noticed it except that it’s not that obvious.  Obviously.  I can feel all the obvious evil thoughts you people are sending me, now…  Oh!  There has been one winner so far!  And she’s not even a regular commenter.  I erased her comment immediately as soon as I got it and wondered, just as quickly, why I had set it up this way.  I should have said the first person to get the correct answer.  But I didn’t so if you can figure out what is such an obvious problem with the shirt that John won’t wear it you get a shot at the lovely prize also.

More tomorrow.

Hello again.  This is Krissa, not her brother, Cam.  I have sent a hit man out looking for Cam and will update as needed.

H is home from hospital, though for how long I can’t say.  Her UTI seemed well under control when she left on Sunday and her urine was clear and light colored.  She still feels bad and is very tired and her urine is quite dark again.  They sent us home with a Rx for more antibiotics and she has been taking them as prescribed.  Oh well.  I am betting she will be going back in the next couple of days.  God, I hope not.

On the up side!!!

Kes and Keelan had their first day at college and as senior in high school on Monday.  They both really excited about the upcoming year.  So am I!

The weekend before school started Keelan was at a friends house and a… small herd of boys showed up at the front door to see her.  I was quite busy doing something or another and met them at the door before they could ring the bell and set the obnoxious dog off barking.  They asked if she was here and I said no, she was at Anna’s house.  They left and I called her later when I wasn’t so tied up doing things and told her that some boys were here and did they call her on her cell?  “No, who was it?”  Er, I didn’t know…  “What did they look like?”  Tall, skinny with stringy hair.  (Hint, all the kids she knows look like that.)  “MOM!  What color was their hair?”  I don’t know, brown?  Blondish?  “Mom! was it ____?  Or _____?”  I dunno, Keelan.  They all look pretty much the same to me and I didn’t really pay any attention cause I was in a hurry.  “Gawd, Mom!  What if one of them was my future husband?”  I dunno, what if all of them were your future husbands?  “MOM!”  KEELAN!

Later she let me know who they were and that there were two of them and not three as I thought there was.  Also that one of them had pink streaks died in his hair.  I said something like, Huh?…pink? Really?

I then promised to be sure and ask any boys that come to the door while she is out if they are her future husband.

“GAWD MOM!”

Sometimes you just can’t make people happy…

Hello, people.  Greetings to all!  I have had company today and they FINALLY left, not a moment too soon!  My SIL came and brought her son, his…girlfriend and their two children to see Henrietta.  Every time she brings these people they break something big.  The last time they were here the…girlfriend-in-law climbed up on the trampoline with her little boy when she was EIGHT MONTHS PREGNANT, and the rusted out frame gave way and it is a thousand wonders little miss dumb ass didn’t give birth right there.  I was inside and didn’t witness the dumb ass wonders taking place in the backyard, otherwise she would have never gotten up there.  You just kinda of assume that not only is she old enough to watch her own children she can make responsible decisions for herself.  Or, at least I did.  Never again, though.

This time the 3 year old hellion that was on the trampoline with his mom last time was running all over the house and being an Unholy Terror.  He went outside with his dad to get something out of the car and ran back to the door ahead of his dad and struck the leaded glass panel with his hands and broke a good sized hole out of the bottom of it.

PLUS, I found out some things about their finances while they were here that really chapped me arse.  I know, I know, what business is it of mine?  Plenty, it turns out.  SIL is forever going on about how poor ____ and _______ are so broke and need money so bad and they need groceries and can we spare some money to help them out?  So I usually fork over a check for $35.00 or $40.00.  Well, SIL said something about how you can get online on her son’s TV set.  I looked at him and said, “Oh?  How do you do that?  Special kind of TV?”  No, it’s with his PlayStation 3.  “Oh, I didn’t know PlayStation 3’s could get online…”  No, not all of them, just a special kind.  “Oh, wow.  How much are they?”  Five hundred dollars.

The little shit can afford to buy the most expensive games out there, yet, apparently, has some difficultly providing for his ever increasing family.  No longer my worry.  The well has dried completely up.  Next time SIL tells me they are near death and starvation, I will tell her to suggest to them hocking the PS3.

Mark My Words inter-tubes, no more free rides for these jokers and I may even cut off my family…er, no, before I could finish this sentence Keelan called and wants to borrow $10.00 to go to the movie.  But, ya know what?  She’ll pay me back,  Without me having to ask for it!

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In…more upbeat news, I have a new blog award!  My brother, Cam, bestowed it on me and while the cute little hiney on the award doesn’t look anything like H’s little shriveled up butt, I appreciate it, none the less.  Actually, I appreciate the fact that it doesn’t look like her at all.  He pinched the pic from this post of Big Hair Envy’s.

In appreciation of this cute little hiney, and because of the many diapers changed while dealing with all other manner of shit, I would like for Angie to have the first Loaded Diaper Award.  Congratulations, Angie!

Greetings all.  I am up early this morning with many things on my mind and I am quite sure that it will be this evening before I can make sense of it all enough to get it down in a post.  Then I will re-read it and think, “So why was that so hard to say and why did I think I had so much to say?”  I suppose just because it’s been a while since I was good about keeping up here.  I’m not apologizing, cause shit’s been happening.  And I don’t even meant he bedpan variety.  No.  Real, documented and undocumented, shizzle.

Where to start….?

Pop is in the hospital and, actually, is scheduled to get out today.  He told me on the phone yesterday that they told him he could leave this morning so he said he was going to get up at about 3:00am and go.  I told my mom he said that and she laughed and said she hoped he had a ride cause she wasn’t going to get him at 3:00am. He is such a character.

He has emphysema and COPD problems that got a bit of fluid in his lung.  “Pneumonia”, I thought.  “No”, the doctors said, “just some fluid in his lung”.  Huh?  Oh well, my understanding is not pivotal to his outcome, anyway, thank you God.

John got a new boss to work with and it is a vast improvement over the last one.  Oops, he isn’t supposed to be there until Monday, so I suppose that’s jumping the gun.  No it isn’t, cause anything would be an improvement.  Plus he’s worked with this guy before and he’s a pretty good one.  So that’s all good.

Henrietta is getting a new caregiver provider and she starts Tuesday.  They called and asked me if we would mind someone who mostly speaks Spanish and I said no, I didn’t mind and so did H so that’s a go.  As far as I know the hand gestures for indicating you have to poo are a fairly universal thing.  Well, that and H throws in some really good facial expressions leaving no doubt as to the amount of urgency/amount of poo ratio.

Got the first semester bill for older child’s college tuition and that was a nasty little shock.  It was something like $2400.  OK.  Well that sucks.  And that is after her scholarship was deducted.  Shit.  Then a day or two later we got an email saying that there had been an error and everyone had been charged $345. for a…something, can’t remember what they called it, but anyway that was an error and they were going to remove it.  So, OK great.  We looked at her bill and they had deducted the $345. for each of her 4 classes  so that just about halved her bill.  Yea.  Can you say “good news”?  We are college tuition bill virgins, (in this millennium) and had no idea what to expect so we were really anticipating having to spend about two and a half thou on it twice a year.  Next, text books.

And then there is the discussion of the younger daughter moving to Decatur, Texas to live with Nana and Pop for her last year in high school.  Strangely, she wants to do this.  She is disillusioned with her friends right now and hates her job and is worried about Pop and Nana both, mostly because they just plain need help.  Young, limber, strong backed help.  Family help.  Adorable, beloved, grandchild help.  The only thing keeping her from jumping at the first chance of going?  New school.  I really can’t say that I blame her.  I was always adamant that she and her sister never have to change schools if there was anyway we could help it and they never did.  K-12, same school.  I guess I wanted this so badly for them because I have attended 6 different schools in my life.  I didn’t know I was crippling them with an inability to flex and change.   No, I can’t blame her for not wanting to do it.  Very scary stuff, walking into a new school for the first time and trying to find your way around feeling like everyone is staring at you.  The New Kid.

Of course one of the friends she is disillusioned with is out with her right now and they are getting spray tans, eyebrow waxing and manicures.  How really bad could it possible be?

Besides, I am pretty sure she would miss me too much to stay gone for months at a time from me.  Yeah.  That’s the way I am hoping thinking it would go down.

We’re trying to die in this heat.  And not because it’s hot, but because we refuse to be and our light bill is run up to a whopping $600 last month.  NOW we’re being hot because that thermostat is turned way up.  This house is like an oven in the rooms Henrietta is in without the ceiling fans on.  When we are all in the living room and we are getting hot I stand up and turn it on and she looks a bit frantic for a second, (she’s convinced the, “wind will make me sick”), but she doesn’t say anything cause I am fanning my shirt and saying how hot it is.  If I get her a light throw or something to wrap up in she says no, it’s too hot for that, so I know she’s not cold.  Just weird and full of old wives tales.  What can I say, she’s an old wife.

I haven’t been to a movie in years and then about a month or so ago John and I saw the Indiana Jones movie.  Really neat.  Then again, when he was on vacation last week we went to see the new Batman.  Well, Wednesday a good friend of mine came over and we watched The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants #1 on DVD, and made plans to go and see #2 at theater yesterday.  We really enjoyed it, also.  So I have seen three movies in the past couple of months and before that I bet I hadn’t been in 4 or 5 years.  How weird is that?

While John was on vacation, my brother was home from Italy to visit and finalize the adoption of my brand spanking new nephew.  Older child had to work and could not attend the family reunion, as it were, but younger girl, John and I met up with Nana, Pop and Cam in in a park in the small town of Buffalo, Texas.  We hung out and ate at a near by resturant.  It was good to see him and I never know how long it will be until I can see him again.

Here he is with Keelan.

The wee child that is in no small amount of trouble with me is at work this morning and her friend showed up to pick up an item for her.

Anna: Hi!  Keelan asked me if I would swing her iPod by for her.  She is standing in front of me waiting… Is it pluged in there,…behind you?

Me: Well, yes it is Anna, but are we supposed to even touch it, cause it seems to me that I have been told that I should not even think about touching it… Maybe I shouldn’t pick on unsuspecting friends when I am steamed at deliquent child, but I can’t help myself.

Anna: Oh, yes!  She asked me to come and get it!

Now at this point I wasn’t really planning and scheming.  Involuntary responses took over my body and I am fairly convinced I wasn’t even driving.  I reached down and picked up the iPod and unplugged it and as it came around in front of me I put it close to my face and licked the back of it.  (Not the screen.)  I then laid it down on the desk in front of me and looked Anna carefully in the eye, (Anna’s eye’s were fairly big at this point.), and said, “Anna, you be sure and tell Keelan that I did that, OK?”  She did not speak, just nodded her head with eye’s as big as saucers.

I have not heard from child and don’t think I will.  I have barely exchanged any words with her in the past few days.  But, I don’t think there is any way she will dare bring this up to me.

Oh. and If I get sick any time soon… I will know for sure where computer viruses come from.

The electricity went out for a bit tonight and we all found ourselves outside with the neighbors.  Everyone came over and re-introduced themselves to H.  The general attitude is that she is so incredibly old she MUST not remember who anyone is.  Sometimes she doesn’t.  They are all just being very nice, and I know it.  Anyway, she kept saying how hot it is and seemed amazed that you could “feel the heat rising up…”.  Keep in mind that she is extremely agoraphobic.  It is very hard to get her to go outside the door, either front or back.  I bet it has been three months since she has left the house.  But with no light or TV she really had very little choice.

Keelan was showing me a message she got from someone on her Myspace page and telling me what she was saying back to him.  She is kinda excited about this kid and hasn’t seen him since school was out.  So she is telling me what she is typing and she said, “…and a smiley face.  You know about that don’t you?  Smiley faces?  You know, semi-colon for a wink and then close parentheses?”  I thought I was being uber cool and said, “Smiley faces? Yeah…been around since the dawn of the typewriter.  Only you forgot the dash for a nose.”  She had the audacity to just bust out laughing hysterically and tell me that I am soooo old and ‘out of it’, “NOBODY puts a nose, Mom!”

WHATEVER!

How do they take the tiniest things and try to make you feel so stupid with them?  Lucky for me, I have rino-hide and it is impossible at this point.

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Henrietta did a poo in the bedpan earlier and I took it over to the cedar chest to set it down by the door to be taken out in a minute to dump in the potty, while I put the diaper on her.  However, this time when I set the bedpan down there was so much crap in the way on the cedar chest it didn’t get completely on there and fell off,  The poo is quite soft and a bit runny and it…splattered out and hit my thong clad foot.  Besides being extremely grossed out I was immediately furious with all of her relatives who keep bringing her STUFFED ANIMALS.  They are all over the place now and there is little room for anything else.  Her room has gone from being a lovely haven to looking like a nursery.  WHY do people think children’s toys are good to give to old people?  I mean when they clearly don’t have the minds of children.  They don’t play with dolls, don’t throw balls, don’t play make believe in any form, shape or manner.  She won’t let go of any of it, either, because it was given to her.  Spoken just like someone raised in the depression era.

Anyway, I did some rearranging and made enough room on the cedar chest to sit the bedpan while I finish up with the diaper and dressing and whatnot.  But, the next time the people in her family that show up, (about twice a year, they come to visit),  and bring something ridiculous to her I am seriously considering saying something like, “Oh!  A child’s bear?”  OH!, for Henrietta!  Well, I don’t know how much she’ll play with it, but it’s really cute….”  Would I be a horrible person?

Yes.  I would.

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I just saw a Twitter from Ree over at Hotfessional that reminded me of a conference call that I sat in on with John, Tuesday on his day off.  On of his buddies he used to work for called him and told him he might want to get in on it just because it was a pretty big deal.  The grocery store chain he works for was recalling ALL the ground meat that wasn’t sold in prepackaged tubes.  THREE DAYS BEFORE JULY 4th.

So I sat there and listened to all these different speakers talk about exactly what was being recalled and what wasn’t and how to handle it and sanitize the meat cases, coolers, floors, walls, ceilings, armpits, what have you.  These people aren’t fooling around.  Then there was endless questions from people that had to be the STUPIDEST people I can imagine knowing how to form a question.  “Err, yeah, this is Bob Schmob over at store 998.  When we sanitize the coolers and the knives, and the grinder and the blades and the prep tables and sink do we also clean the counter tops where the meat is cut up?”  Yes, you dumbass.  You clean everything the meat has ever touched in the history of the store.

I don’t know how many times this particular kind of question was asked and how many times the, either incredibly patient, or unbelievably stupid upper management people would once again tell them that, yes, they needed to clean and sanitize everything.

After the conference call had gone on for 65 minutes it ended and would you believe NO ONE EVER SAID WHAT THE PROBLEM WITH THE MEAT WAS.  I mean, you can guess it is probably e coli, but, for gawd’s sake, it seems like the managment yo-yo’s would have used the word ONCE.  Or someone would have asked.  No.  Of course it was on the recall site on the internet and it IS e coli, but I think it is PRETTY funny that the corporate big wigs can talk on and on for over an hour and not ever come out and say what the problem actually IS!  Typical. At least for this company.

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Earlier tonight I came in here and Keelan was on the computer doing, Gawd knows what.  I sat and waited for a bit and watched her and my eyes have gotten so bad that I could have sworn she typed “racial farts” into the googlie search thing.  No.  It was Rascal Flatts.  Do I need to get my eyes checked out?

Joan Crawford’s got nothing on me.  Just ask the wee small girl child that lives here with us.  Keelan is 17 and has some unusual ideas of good parenting.  She had a friend drop in to visit her last night about 9:30 and she and this other little girl sat in here, (the riff-raff room…where the teenagers hang out at my house) and visited and talked and giggled.  The usual.  Then at about 10:00 I came in here and talked to them.  Keelan popped up and  said that she was thinking about going camping.  Oh.  OK, with (insert friend’s name here)?  Well, yes.  With her.  “When?” I ask.  “Right now.”  After playing 20 questions like this to the tune of 136 questions I finally gathered that her friend had gone to the Texas City dike in a camper with another friend of theirs that I have never even met and said friend’s parents.  She had just left the camp site to “go home and catch a shower”.  So the thinking here is that she will swing by at 10:00pm and pick up Keelan and take her to spend the night with her and all these other people that I have never even met.  When I told Keelan that I would have to talk to them on the phone I got the response I was looking for, cause there was no way she was going.  She did all the requisite stomping, whining, and fuming, explaining that it was stupid to do that and totally embarrassing to her and “How COULD I?”  Etc. And then, per normal procedure, she said, “FINE!  I just won’t go!”  To which I said, “Fine.”, and was secretly very smug.

Now who’s a bad mom and who’s a clever mom?  OK, in the name of justice I guess I should add, who’s a bad, clever, mom?  I think I am a badass clever mom.

In other world shaking news, my dear brother of Squidspot fame has relocated an award I recieved a good while back from my good friend Trannyhead over at Law School Sucks, and so do lawyers.  It is now in the sidebar as it should be.  I really should stay on top of these things, but, alas, my housekeeping, er… “skills” are carried on over to my blogdom.  Such is life.  I am not going to complain cause hey, he got it done.  Yea, Cam!

Well, last night there was commotion outside and when Keelan looked out there she discovered yet another possum.  But this one had two babies attached to her.  When I went out with my camera she was very displeased at the intrusion and hissed at me while climbing down from the table she was on.  She had one baby on her back, but…forgot the other one.  The baby left behind began frantically making this pitiful noise that I can never begin to replicate.  Momma was going as fast as she could away.  So I took the baby and put it down on the ground and went back inside, (it was definitely going to fall off the table if I didn’t).  AFTER CAREFULLY WASHING MY HANDS WITH ANTIBACTERIAL SOAP I watched out the window while she came back and retrieved it.  That’s when I grabbed the shitty camera, dashed out and took a few more shots of her making her get away.  She didn’t even give the baby she came back to pick up time to climb on her back.  It kind of rode underneath her while the other one was up on top.

They rush back and forth along the front of our house on the same little path going back to the neighbor’s fence.  I think they are living under his pool house.  SOB doesn’t have any pets so they are forced to pilfer cat food from the neighbors, (ME).  I need to bring up the problem of people not feeding their own vermin at the next Homeowner’s Association meeting.

Anyway, I located a live trap at one of the animal shelters close by and since John is off tomorrow and the caregiver provider person is supposed to be here tomorrow, we will go and pick it up and go a-trappin’.   I am very excited about the possum hunt and it promises to be a very busy catch and release night as I saw two neighbor cats up there eating in the next hour when I looked outside.  That’s in addition to our cat.   I anticipate angry cats all night long.  They may even change free buffet locations.

I know what you’re thinking.  Cats?  There are that many cats around there and yet, an old fashioned, plague situation with possums?  Yes, the cats are pretty much worthless.  HOWEVER, they are well-mannered.  They take turns at the food bowl with the possums and never interfear with their feedings.  My work here is done.

Wait!  MOOOOOOOMMY! COME BAAAAAACK!

MOM!  Why do I always have to ride underneath!?

Brother always gets to ride on top!

Look, lady…just back off and let me get to the free buffet…

You can see the little one underneath and the spoiled one on top…

Sorry about how bad the pic is.  It was pitch black dark and I was using a flash.

I was getting brave and a little closer.

DON’T LAUGH AT MY…diagram(?)! I am learning how to do…stuff.  Click to see the words bigger cause I am a loser and didn’t feel like going back into the thingy and making them bigger.   Gotta go do bedpan duty.

The stupid “caregiver provider” never showed up today. She made it out here last Friday and did the requisite 3 hour stay, only I was here for most of it. She also gave H her bed-bath and dressed her and pottied her and whatnot. It was very nice. However she is supposed to be here every Tuesday and Friday at 1:00. I called the office at about 2:00 and they called her cell phone and left a voice mail message. About 3:00 she called me and said she had been at the emergency room. She said she is pregnant and had started bleeding. Then she said she is OK they gave her some medicine. She wants to come tomorrow morning and do the whole thing then. How should I feel about someone who supposed to be preggers and having bleeding problems showing up and horsing H around and picking her up and all the job entails? I am betting her employer doesn’t know she’s pregnant. If she really is.

I was looking at Twitter and noticed that Holly over at Anglophile Football Fanatic, commented that the UPS man rang the doorbell and she went into a meltdown of sorts trying to make sure “the boy” didn’t wake up. This got me to thinking about how determined I was that my kids could sleep through anything. I thought I had the perfect plan. I wanted them to be able to sleep through any kind of noise or silence, so, every other night, for a very long time, from day one at home I left the radio on or the tv or something noise making. Not very loud, but loud enough to be heard. And every other night it was off and there was silence. Wanna know how they turned out? Well, I have to say that when they were little it did work. Noise never bothered them, but, they didn’t have to have it to sleep, either. However, now? The older one needs quiet and the younger one, noise. I AM TELLING YOU I DON’T THINK THEY’RE MINE.