Lice - I hate you!

Ode to Head Lice

It starts as a tingle
And becomes a scratch
Your children start to complain
Then they start to thrash

Oh No, you say
Please god don't do this to me
You pull out the Robi comb
And oh boy guess what you see

Nasty ass critters
Taking shelter in your childrens heads
Now it's time to clean
So you go and strip the beds

Next comes the fun part
Time get the husbands help
Listening to your children scream and yell
As you nit pick their little scalps

But the best is yet to come
Don't get comfortable yet
Three weeks worth of diligence
Ain't exactly a sure bet

Because these disgusting bastards
Don't simply thrive to piss you off
They are a creation that given the opportunity
Will survive a nuclear holocaust

I've nit picked and combed
Barked and bitched
Finally getting my children clear
When my head starts to itch.

Now that my poem is out of the way - I'm not afraid to say it damn it, so why am I hesitating? Bah! Our house has started all out war with head lice. We got rid of the little fuckers and they are back. This time with reinforcements.

When we are back to our normal lives and I'm not running the washer and dryer night and day, I'll be able to blog again.

Look what "I" made Mommy!!

My dear sweet Annabel is - beautiful, funny, and lovable. She is also cranky, sleepless and clingy. There is give and take, it's to be expected. So it really should have come as no surprise when she unveiled her new favorite "thing" - if you will.

My sweet baby girl loves to play with her poop. The first few times I figured: dirty diaper + too small = hands in poop. But I got smart to her game when I saw her grunting and reaching into her diaper.

What started out as something we all laughed about has now turned into the most repulsive game of cat and mouse. Now I hawk eye her with one thought churning in my brain -

Must.Not.Let.Baby.Play.With.Poop.

My husband, of course, thinks it's funny, reminding me she is just sharing what she so proudly "made herself". I think this weekend I'll leave him for a few hours alone with her. I don't think he'll find it so funny when it's his shirt, hands and potentially face, covered in steaming shit.

Annabel, so adorable, so sweet...so disgusting.

Had to happen sooner or later...

Last week I noticed what I assumed was heat rash on Arwen's neck. As any of you that have read my blog know, she has ezcema and has break outs from time to time. No big deal, I put hydrocortisone on it and figured it would get better. This morning I got out the cream before she went to school and she started scratching her head, complaining it "itched". Do you see where I'm going with this??

So I put down the cream, started looking around in her hair and I saw what my dumb ass thought was fleas. We had the rabbit inside last night and I thought, it's just from the pet. Then I found another...and another... I called my Mom in panic, having zero clue what the nastiness was. A quick google search later confirmed what she thought. Our household has it's first case of Lice.

I'm trying the new Cetaphil treatment that's supposed to work wonders. I've yanked off the sheets and pillows and have bagged the stuffed animals. But here is what pisses me off. Being the concerned parent I am, I contacted her school. That is the right thing to do isn't it? Warn the other children and their parents that lice may have found it's way around the school. Well, it seems they "don't contact parents or do lice checks" anymore. They only check a child if a teacher has a concern and then they send him/her home.

If I get rid of this shit and she comes down with another case of it I'm going to personally go down there and shake her scalp out on the Principal.

*thus far the other kids have checked clean but bless them, I'm doing the cetaphil treatment on them too to be safe.

Bog of Eternal Stench

There comes a point in every Mom's life when she wishes for one thing and one thing only - a potty trained child.

My two oldest did pretty well, Logan especially all things considered. And now it's Vincent's turn. He is 3 years old but soon he'll be 4 which means this diaper business has got to go. He has ZERO interest in the toilet and the more I sit him on the throne the less he wants to be there.

The problem isn't actually sitting like a prince on the crapper, he hops up there like a champ. Thing is, he immediately wipes, smiles and says "ALL DONE!" proudly. There is no business being taken care of, no deposit of any sort and I don't know how to get him there.

My nose hair has fallen out from the diaper induced stench. I'm hoping for progress at this point but praying for miracles.

Kick in the Teeth

If you knew me in middle/high school then you know I had braces. I wore those hideous bars of metal from 8th grade until right up before my senior prom. My teeth were pretty awful prior to them and I was not only forced to wear the braces but also had to have 4 wisdom teeth removed and the top pallet of my mouth had to be stretched and broken.

It was not fun.

There are still adverse emotional scars due to this. For one I absolutely despise the dentist. I'll put off going for years if I can. And there is one particular tooth I cannot stand to have touched or messed with. Which is usually the cause of my discomfort and paranoia. It's the furthest molar on the right side of my mouth.

Back when I initially got braces I had brackets placed on all my molars. Since they covered my tooth it was impossible to see exactly what was going on under there. I just hoped proper brushing was doing it's job. Then the day came when my braces and brackets came off. Everything was wonderful with the exception of that one tooth. There was a cavity and when air hit it oh my lord, it was one of the worst pains I've ever experienced. It was packed temporarily and I was sent to a nearby dentist from my orthodontist to have it repaired. It was a terrible affair and I've never shaken it.

Over the years when I'm finally forced to do my yearly cleaning I plead with my dentist to avoid that tooth as much as possible. There is still nerve damage and just touching it causes me to jump out of the seat. I've visited numerous offices and dentists but none have taken my request seriously. Instead I'm subjected to poking, scraping and prodding and when I'm finally done I never return again.

Which brings me to today. The tooth is bothering me again. The last time it started the filling had fallen out. When I saw the dentist I asked them to just pull the entire tooth out. It's caused me so much headache and stress I'd just like it gone. I was told that wasn't a good idea and to salvage it, which I did. I was also warned I'd need a root canal at some point because the tooth had been such a problem. My Mom (in law) told me to try the dentist she is using now. She swears by him and says he will listen to me and take my anxiety about that tooth seriously. She's making me an appointment this week.

Does anyone else out there hate the dentist as much as I do? I'd rather scrub toilets than to let anyone near my mouth with those nasty metal scrapers.

No greater satisfaction

There is no greater satisfaction in the world than when you finally nail that pesky fly who has been buzzing around your head all freaking morning.

You had it coming you little bastard. Let that serve as a warning to your little friends outside. Mess with the master and get the swatter!

Ouch

These gas prices BLOW. It is over $60 to fill the tank of our Camry. YIKES!!!

Insomnia Rambling

Warning. What I'm about to blog is extremely graphic. So please read at your own risk. This is about some of the nightmares I experience.

I've had vivid dreams since I was a very young child. I can tell you a few things about my dreams:

I dream in color.

I hear sound.

I can feel, taste and touch.

At times I can force myself to wake, but not always.

I often dream multiple dreams each night.

When I was younger I loved to dream. I had dreams of flight, romance, and of entering into movies or books I loved. I met famous actors in my dreams, performed plays, danced on broadway. But over time the dynamic changed. My dreams became darker, more vivid, more emotional. I began to have dreams of a violent nature. Of course I attributed it directly to the horror movies I watch and love so much.

But after I had my first child the dreams took a terrible turn. First it was the usual dreams of a new Mom. Forgetting my baby in the car seat, suffocation, SIDS, etc. But it got worse (if you can believe dreams can get worse) and it's the reason I'm awake now at 3:48 am.

To give you a tiny idea of what I experience. Tonight my first dream:

I was in an duplex. It was nice place but often cold and the children were cranky. We were showing the condo to sell in an effort to move. Throughout the dream I noticed people didn't speak to us, only to the realtor which was annoying. Through the course of the dream (and our children crying) I finally realized that they didn't speak to us because we were all ghosts. The realtor explained to one couple who kept hearing Annabel crying that the place was haunted by the ghosts of a family who had died in a fire there, from smoke inhalation.

The second dream was of the boys running to a diesel truck with cargo and climbing onto the back. I was running and screaming at the driver to stop as he was driving toward the road leading to the highway. I threw my arms above my head and screamed as loudly as I could. I could see my tiny boys laughing and waving and I could see them falling out and getting hit by an oncoming car. The dream ended with the driver seeing me and me rushing to my sons who I snatched close to me.

The third dream saw me at a house with a huge group of deranged people. At some point a large container was brought out and inside were the heads of previous pets I'd lost due to old age, etc. I know this because I reached inside of the container and pulled one out. Needless to say, that is the dream that woke me and is the reason I'm not too keen on returning back to sleep.

I wish there was some sort of drug that stopped dreaming. I know, I should stop watching horror movies. The truth is, even when I do stop, I still have the nightmares. I can go without anything spooky (books, movies) in return for lighter stuff (romance and comedy) and still have them.

I guess I'm just doomed to have insomnia. Maybe the meds for anxiety I just started will help out. Does anyone else have such morbid nightmares?

Up All Night

I'm so screwed today. Annabel was up until 4:30 this morning, she never went to sleep, meaning neither did I.

I have to get ready this morning to go to Arwen's field day at her school and afterward to the store to get some shopping done. When I finally arrive home I'll have a few hours before it's time to go out to a movie with the hubs (hopefully).

I'd mercifully forgotten how bad it can be when you have sleep issues with your children. I'd been reading Kristin's recent battle and now I totally relate. It took it recurring in my own life to remember just how cranky I become when deprived of at least 4 hours of rest per night.

Kristin, I feel your pain. Hopefully we'll both get some rest soon (before we kill someone!)

Trouble

Trouble is brewing in the family and it's unexpectedly from my husband's side (which in and of itself is strange). This trouble comes in the form of a 13 year old boy who just happens to be Jimbo's cousin. First a little back story.

Samuel's Mother was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Disease when he was 1 or so. She fought a hard battle but didn't make it. Her only son was 2 years old when she passed. She'd wanted her Mother to take him but her Mom (for reasons that I could devote several blog entries to) declined and instead her sister, Jill, took on the role of single parent.

When I met Jimbo, Samuel visited often. He loved it here for obvious reasons. Jimbo is great with kids and at the time the house was a bachelor pad. Then after Jimbo and I had children and started our family together Samuel's visits became less frequent. He was just too 'rough' with the children, even pushing them as toddlers out of the way if they dared walk in front of the television. He didn't like being reprimanded or sharing the attention.

The last few years have seen an increase in 'problems' with this kid. He's been fighting with Jill for years, got kicked from his private school, failed a grade, and threatened suicide. He's got severe emotional problems and has been seeing a psychologist for years. Yet nothing seems to be working and the downward spiral continues.

The last I'd heard Jill had finally decided to take the most drastic of steps - to send him to a military type school. It wouldn't be easy, she would be required to take Samuel to group meetings with therapists where he would be evaluated before he would get the help he so desperately needs. But for some reason she changed her mind. She didn't take him to the meetings and she didn't proceed with her plans. So he's been left to continue on his already plummeting path.

I found out this week he was suspended again from his new school. This makes the second time this semester. He vandalized the chalk board by taking a sharp object and carving his name into it and the faculty was none too pleased.

I feel for Jill. She didn't ask to lose her sister or to become a single Mom. She never married and enjoys her life and lifestyle as a single. But ultimately she did agree to take this responsibility. She needs to give up that job that calls for so many hours and she needs to get him help now, if it's not already too late.

Things are so bad she had to place a lock on her bedroom to keep him from stealing her things. If she can't trust him not to steal from her, what about others? And who does she think will be responsible for his actions when he really does something bad?

The entire thing is just awful. There are no winners.

(forgot to mention, his Father doesn't want to have anything to do with him and hasn't since his Mother died. He should be shot.)

Busted my Ass

Ouch.

I think I've broken my bootie bone. Last night while climbing over one of many child gates in our home my leg got caught. I tried to retain my balance but couldn't which ended in the gate breaking from it's hinge and since it broke it caused my leg to stay caught. I flew upwards and had no way to brace for the fall. So I landed directly on my tailbone.

I'm going to be walking little old lady style at the local Hell-Mart today.

What happened to me?

I've always been a tomboy. When I was a child I preferred G.I. Joes to Barbies, Cowboys and Indians to Dolls and playing war instead of playing house. I never wore dresses or skirts, hated wearing make-up and rebelled when I started growing breasts.

As time moved on I slowly embraced my feminine side but I retained old habits. I always wore blue jeans and make-up was always minimal. The two things I concentrated on were my nails and hair.

Recently however another person has emerged. Something is happening I NEVER imagined possible for me, starting with clothing. I finally purchased a skirt and liked it so much I bought another. After that I realized every girl needs a good pair of Spanx to rock skirts so I got a set. Shortly after this I purchased my first pair of heels and my attention then turned to make-up.

I knew it wasn't cheap but dear god, I never knew it was this expensive. I'd always bought my meager make-up in Wal-Mart since all of my skin care needs are purchased there as well. I use Neutrogena base, Physician's Formula blushes and powder and to cleanse I use J&J's Purpose soap and moisturizer. This has worked well for me over the years but admittedly, I never look like I'm wearing any make-up at all. It's natural taken to the extreme with me.

So lately I've been dibbling in eye shadows, eye liners, and brushes. I haven't made it to the foundations, concealers or bronzers just yet and it's a good thing because I can't afford the stuff I want right now. I've been watching tutorials for these amazing looks on Youtube and the products they use are outrageous.

M.A.C. stuff looks amazing. In each video I've watched this is usually the make-up of choice. I looked it up since I wanted to duplicate the looks and I literally could not believe my eyes. In order to recreate just one look I really liked I'd have to spend close to $300. Let me write that out, just to make sure you realize I didn't type that wrong - THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS.

That is just insane. Ultimately I did some research and ordered some pigments online from another company in sample sizes. This way I can get an idea of what I like and order accordingly. I still want some of the M.A.C stuff and I hope to get a few things but it'll have to wait. I've read that if you make a purchase at the counter the representative will give you up to 3 samples of pigment. So if this is true I'll just pick up a few samples and buy something once per paycheck until I have the things I really want.

I've been living under a rock because I seriously never imagined how expensive it could be. I suppose I should have when you fork out $15 dollars for a bottle of their polish. Jeezus.

Feel the Bite, Bug Fright

I'm in pain. Annabel has started to bite me when she nurses. I knew it was coming. All of the children did this to me at some point BUT all of my children other than Miss Annabel lacked teeth until 1 year of age. I keep waiting for her to break the skin. It's hard to relax and let her nurse freely now because when I let my guard down and don't focus on her (rubbing her face or making eye contact) she bites down. She is too young to grasp "NO" very well and of course I'd never punish her physically. So I guess this is just a phase I'll have to grin and bear.

This season we have TONS of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. They are all over the house. I've killed at least 20 in the last week or so and they just keep coming in. That picture I took that looked like a dragonfly? I'm pretty sure it was one of the bloodsuckers in action.

Aside from being totally disgusting the bugs pose another issue. My children, especially Vincent, are terrified of them. Anytime Vincent spies a bug he will cry out in fear and come running to me, "BUG, BUGGG!" I feel badly as they got this from me I'm sure. I don't cope well with any type of insect or pest.

Otherwise this Monday has been pretty tame. The shingles are so gross though. They had begun to ooze, then dry and now they are doing both and the itch is unimaginable. I try to leave it alone but it's so hard. At least it's not so painful anymore.

Not so much another day...

So much for the "Mornings" entry below!

I got ready to pick Vincent up at school. I was running maybe 3-5 minutes behind when I made my way with Annabel to the Van. I got her all buckled in, threw my purse into the passenger front seat, shut the door and ran to get in myself.

I popped in the key and turned...

Nothing. No click, no music from the stereo. The battery obviously dead as a doornail. Panicked I rushed inside for the truck keys in an attempt to jump the van off. I searched until I found them and ran to the truck. Then it hit me...I needed jumper cables.

I called Jimbo only to discover the cables are in the car...the car he drives to work.

DAMN.

I hurriedly called my Mother who rushed out of work to go get Vincent. Then I called the school to tell them about my battery. Poor little guy. He's going to be standing there, while his ride is over 30 minutes late for him.

I feel like such a bad Mother right now. Someone shoot me please.

Intervention

I'm sure you've all seen the news story about the Polygamist ranch where hundreds of children were removed. If not HERE is a link.

This is a difficult issue for me and I'll admit I get a bit of flack over it. Because there is a part of me (a very tiny one) that believes those children shouldn't have been so hastily removed. I realize they made the choice to try and maintain Mother to child contact with children 5 and under but what about the children Arwen's age. I couldn't imagine the fear those children must be facing right now.

With that small part however there is a bit of anger about this whole Polygamy lifestyle. For me, personally, it appears to be a religion in which men benefit and women are merely prizes and vessels to produce a large batch of children each year. Let's face it, even in arranged marriages you normally find children attached at birth to one another. However in polygamy it's the norm for a 50 year old grandfather to marry a girl 30+ years his junior. I'm sure you don't hear of many love stories in which these young women fall deeply in love with these old farts and daydream about their future together along with all of his other wives.

Then you have the family dynamics of this kind of living. There is the "1st Wife" who is basically a commander and chief for the "household". What she says goes. She makes the rules, budgets and decides the status and jobs of each of her "sister wives". Could you live like that? I did for a while and my Mom agrees with me, two women under one roof is just one too many. We both were chomping at the bit for me to get out on my own when I hit 18. I'm not even going to begin to delve into the entire issue of Mothers and their Daughters (from a different man) sharing a same husband. I've heard this does happen.

The thing that really gets me about this is Polygamy is illegal in the United States but the compounds here are well known. It's not hard to find them and they are not hidden from the public eye. So why does the government only intervene when they "get a call of abuse". Isn't it abuse to allow these children to have no future other than what their church and profit decrees? Why does it take a phone call for you to step forward?

One thing is for sure. I hope some of those young women they managed to free decide to be brave and refuse to return. They deserve the chance to live a life in which their wishes are respected. It would be even better if they choose to bring their children (if they have any) out of the polygamy world as well.

One thing I did find laughable about all of this is an interview with a wife on CNN.com who claimed their "constitutional rights" had been violated. Can you really say you have constitutional rights when you want your church to be recognized separately because you believe your husband should be able to marry multiple times? You can't have it both ways you know.

You need a Church?

Last night as I was enjoying Dancing with the Stars the phone rang. A name I didn't recognize came blaring out of the speaker and I rushed up the stairs and to the phone.

"Hi, I'm Mary, I'm calling from *name of church*. I spoke with Brother Bob and he told me you are currently looking for a church."

I sat dumbfounded for a second or two. I couldn't recall asking anyone about a church. The BOOM it hit me, during the conversation with Angie's husband, I'd said soon we'd be looking for one.

"Uhhh, well...yes I did say soon..."

"Well, we'd just love to have you, I wanted to call and extend and invitation to our services this Sunday!"

I felt bad when I explained I'm still under the weather and not 100% and that I'd like to at least be able to enjoy the service and meet the people before I started looking for a place to settle. She was very polite, asked if I needed any help here, however I could tell she wasn't too happy when I said:

"Thank you again, it's nice to meet and talk to you."

And she responded with:

"Uh-huh, bye."

I could kill Bob.

Fast Food Service

First some quick news! I registered Arwen today at the same school her brother attends!! I'm so very excited as they are in our county but outside our 'zone' so I had to wait until they knew their capacity to enroll her. I can't wait until she gets home to tell her, I know she will be as happy about this as I am!

Now on to the entry at hand.

My sister, Hailey, and I are polar opposites. In high school she was the flirty party girl, I was the book worm. She got pregnant very early (17), I got pregnant late (24). She doesn't plan, I do. She is always out and about, I'm a home body. There are things about us that clash, like the fact I no longer babysit for her because she never shows up when promised. But for all of our differences I love her, she is my sister of course.

She doesn't work and Craig (her fiance) only works from time to time for his parents. Yet they live in an expensive house they just remodeled and because they 'had to' bought a 2005 Lincoln Navigator just two weeks ago (they had to because their 2002 Ford Explorer was having mechanical issues). From my understanding Craig's parents are very well off and give him an 'allowance' of around 1500 dollars a month or more. I'm also under the understanding (ie, heard it thru the grapevine) that his Mom and Dad pay their rent. For the most part they spend their days sleeping in and when they finally get out driving around shopping or shooting the breeze.

Yesterday when they arrived to pick up my niece I had just cooked dinner. They arrived 4 hours late and I found out they'd decided to go out to eat before coming. As I cleared the table Hailey tried a ravioli I made. She told me how much she liked them and I told her it was inexpensive and I'd be more than happy to share her how to make it.

"How much is it?" Craig asked.

"I don't know, maybe 6-7 dollars for that huge serving? It will feed us for a few lunches still."

"Are you listening to this Hailey?" Craig teased. "You need to learn how to save money."

"Oh shut it!" Hailey laughed back and popped him gently on the arm.

"You know," he looked at Jimbo. "Since we didn't have our new stove yet we spent three months solid eating out. It got to the point where Wendy's knew what we wanted to order before we did."

"You're joking?" I looked up in shock. They had to be joking. Didn't they?

"No," Craig and Hailey laughed. "One guy that worked the night shift knew us and would laugh and ask if we wanted our usual."

I shook my head and the conversation drifted off on another topic. It must be nice to live so carefree and happy. But honestly, fast food for 3 months?? I think my body would start to smell and stink after all that fat I'd ingested for that long.

No wonder Zoe has such terrible stomach issues. Yikes.

Milk Money

Before I launch into this entry, I am going to the doctor this morning. The pain is worse. I cannot wait to get there and update you on what this crap is.

Now, for the party.

Yesterday was my niece's 8th birthday. Even though I wasn't feeling 100% I got ready and took Arwen. We arrived and there was nothing really going on. Just a bunch of kids and parents, most of the children were skating around in the rented room while their Moms and some Dads watched on.

I got Arwen situated and took a seat next to a man I was introduced to as my cousin's husband. My cousin, Angie, has 5 children. This is husband number 4 and Father to baby number 5. If that doesn't tell you enough about this woman I'll add in that, she doesn't work and has no plans to and lives in her Mom and Dad's old trailer on welfare. Her husband was cordial enough and had their baby girl (Annabel's age) in his arms.

When the time arrived to cut the cake, I washed my hands and hurried over to help cut and distribute. All of Angie's kids crowded around the table. As I was handing Arwen her plate Angie's oldest son said:

"I was told I would get the next piece!"

I ignored him and instead gave him the next slice and off he went. All of her children shoved into the line and nabbed their cake and rushed off so imagine my surprise when halfway through the 30 some children...

"Can I have a big ole' corner piece? Angie just LOVES her icing!!"

It's Angie's husband. He standing there, hovering over the heads of the children. At first I'm in shock because there are so many children that haven't been served. And here is this asshole, wanting cake first, with tons of icing for his icing hungry wife??

I cut a small side piece with has tons of the border icing on it. He looked at it, then looked over at the plate I was using to scrape the additional icing off the knife, then proceeded to pick the plate up with rubbed and smeared icing and put the cake in it before walking off. I was about to tell him how nasty that is when:

"I want some more cake!"

It's her children, again. I guess in their house if you snooze you lose. I told them I was sorry but they had to wait until everyone else got a piece before I gave out seconds. They quickly hurried over to the ice cream instead. I watched in horror as they went through plate after plate of runny ice cream. Shoving it down as if it was the last sugar they'd see until the next party they got invited to.

I'd like to say, "what is wrong with these people??" but the truth is when you have parents demanding cake BEFORE children I can only imagine. I wonder if she even bakes cakes for treats like I do from time to time. It's not expensive. I can make a 2 tier cake with icing for my children for maybe 3 dollars? Or less? How hard is it? But the best is still to come.

As the party was winding down I wound up next to them, again. This time she was talking about her baby and formula. Of course, I told her that I'm nursing Mom.

"No babies are making MY boobs drag to my knees." She said disgustedly. "You can forget it."

"Good thing they don't actually do that," I said back. "Plus they make you lose the baby weight and it's good for the baby."

"Well that's true and it's good for the baby but all of mine were on formula." I was getting the "breastfeeding is gross" vibe from her.

"The one thing though," I said, knowing they don't have money because she won't work. "is it saves TONS of money."

"I'm sure it does," she says before informing me, "but you can get WIC for up to 75,000 dollars per household with all of my children so I didn't have to pay for any of it with my kids."

That night when climbing into bed I shared the nights events with my husband and when I told him this he asked.

"Did you tell her to say thank you?"

"No, why would I?" I asked.

"For paying for half of that WIC milk of course. Do you really think that milk is free? Where do you think that money comes from."

Next time I'll be sure to remember that.

One of the Boys

Pfffft!...PFFFT!

I turned from the stove and looked to the table. Vincent and Logan were sitting, drinking some milk and eating a small cupcake as I prepared food for dinner later. I couldn't find the source of the noise so I returned to cooking.

PFFFFT...PFFFTTT.PFFFFFTTTTTTTTT!!

I turned around and Logan gave me the biggest shit eating grin. I smiled back as I finally realized what the sound was. As I grinned I and tried to offer a piffle of my own. I didn't succeed but they gave me an A for effort as they erupted in giggles and laughter.

When did flatulence become an entertaining family past time? And when did I become so gross?

Oh well, at least the boys think I'm cool.

Childhood Obesity

I took Arwen (who feels fine but has a low grade fever, still), Vincent and Annabel to the park today. After an hour of climbing around I thought it would be nice to 'treat' them to an ice cream cone. We packed into the van and headed off to sonic. I ordered and drove around to the window when I saw it.

A Mother and her child were sitting outside. The boy looked to be maybe 12 or 13 and my first thought was why wasn't the child in school. Then I saw the food piled in front of him. He had 2 burgers, 2 drinks and a large fry and was going to town on all of it. His Mother also had a large amount of artery killer and was busy hosing it down. Both were very obese. I'm guessing here but I'd say the boy weighed every bit of 180+ pounds.

As I drove away I couldn't help but think about it. Nowadays people are so overweight. Our society as a whole thrives on living in excess and this includes food. We like our food convenient, fast and cheap. This isn't a good combination. Companies buy cheap for profit which usually means everything in a fast food joint is filled with calories. Even the oils many companies use are stockpiled full of saturated fats.

People have to start being responsible parents. I didn't just feel bad for that boy, I felt anger toward his Mother too. She not only is teaching this child poor eating habits but she is also encouraging it as well but eating horribly herself. How can he learn that fruits, veggies and other home cooked foods are just as tasty?

I normally don't judge people and I'll admit right now I don't know their story. But I can say if I'd seen them eating a normal size meal I probably would never have written this entry. No 13 year old needs to be eating x2 burgers, x2 drinks and a supersized fry for lunch. Neither does a grown woman for that matter.

I suppose for me I'm just frustrated with seeing these extremely obese/overweight people that say it's not their fault and while they say it they are stuffing a Big Mac into their mouth. Some people do gain weight because of legitimate medical reasons but not 15-19% of the population.

I'll get off my soap box now.