Tuesday, January 24, 2006
My soap box...
I often get asked a question that really riles me up...
Do you work? Or the government offices version... Do you work outside the home?
And then there are people like my cousin Rossi, who assume that since I don't have a "job" that I should be able to do things for them at a moments notice. Like last year when she got mad at me because I would not pick up her son after school every day, and keep him for her for a few hours. (And even though I love the little heathen, he reminds me of some twisted combination of 'Dennis the menace' and 'Chucky'.) "After all, you don't work, and it would give you a little extra money..."
OK... First of all... Extra money? What the heck is that? Secondly... People that seriously ask if I work need to be immediately punched in the nose!
Lets start with the basics.
I have to keep in my memory at all times, Samantha's medications, allergies, doctors names, and surgical history. Her medication list includes, but is not limited to: Keppra, Klonopin, Nootrapil, BiCytra, Miralax, and Diastat. We may be adding one more when the doctor calls me back today. I have to remember to call in refills on all of her medications AND remember to go to the pharmacy to pick them up. And they all run out at different times, so I am at the pharmacy for one thing or another at least three times a week. Samantha is allergic to Lamictal, Rocephen, and on occasion oxygen. I have to pick up my 40 pound, 3 1/2 foot tall six year old and carry her to the toilet every two hours because she doesn't walk yet. I then have to sit with her while she goes to the bathroom, then pick her up with one hand, wipe and flush with the other, then I have to lift her and carry her back down the hallway to get her re-dressed. Her medicine has to be crushed, mixed and given through her g button three times a day. If I feed her table food by mouth, that takes at least thirty minutes of preparation and feeding time. We feed her four times a day at least. She has to spend at least thirty minutes a day in her gait trainer trying to learn to walk. She needs to have a bath every other day, goes to bed at ten every night, and can't sleep without her fuzzy cover.
I have to remember that Auron only has one kidney, and that he pukes up the two most common antibiotic used for kidney infections. His favorite bedtime toy is an ugly yellow giraffe that is older than me. He needs a bath every three days, but any more than that and his excema acts up so bad his skin looks like it will split. I have to try to find time to do the dishes, laundry, and vacuum the living room floor. The kids spend a lot of time in the floor, and pick up EVERYTHING!
I have to feed the cat, feed the fish, clean out the litter box, and remember countless appointments. None of this even includes the things I have to remember to do for me! When I do get the chance to leave the house things get even more complicated. I haven't even had the time to paint my toenails in over a year! And I am currently typing this post with a sick wiggling baby in my lap!
I feel like I can compare my self to a circus clown, juggling 40 angry hamsters while riding a unicycle, backwards, while wearing stilts!
Do I work? HA!