Monday, February 6, 2017

My Series of Unfortunate Events

They say bad things come in threes. I hope that is true, cause that would mean I am done with bad luck for  while.

To start of the week I had a small mix up with an icy hot stick and my deodorant. Pain. Lots and lots of pain.



Me and my icy pits decided to start working on our taxes. I was thinking that this would finally be the year we get a decent return and not owe any silly fines from a six year old mistake. I entered all the info from my current job and saw our predicted refund amount was almost enough to pay off our biggest debt. I was ecstatic! I hadn't added Dean's yet info yet, but assumed he claimed the same as me. So, logically it was only going to go up even more. I kept dreaming of all the debt we could pay off and how much we could save towards a house (yes, I realize how adult that sounds). This high lasted until the next day when Dean handed me his W2.  I looked and noticed that he had paid less than a grand in federal taxes all year.  My heart sank as I nervously punched the numbers into Turbo Tax. My hopes and dreams of a debt free life vanished as I watched our expected return drop about seven-thousand dollars. Turns out, Dean somehow thought claiming 5 was the right thing to do. At least we didn't end up owing. Maybe next year we will actually be able to pay something off.

Later that week I managed to slice part of my finger off while using a mandolin in the kitchen. It wasn't as bad as it could be, but it was bad enough that Dean had to call out of work to take care of me. After about an hour and a half of applying pressure it was still bleeding.  At that point I called my friend who is an ED nurse and asked her if I should go to the hospital. We decided to wait another half hour. If it was still bleeding at that point, I would go to urgent care to have it cauterized. Thankfully, it stopped bleeding and I was fine. The most painful part of that entire experience was that I had just finished telling Dean how dangerous that thing is and to be very careful with it.

To top this all off, whatever nasty plague that has been circulating has hit the Gootee home fast and strong. I tried to go to work today and they sent me home. I've spent the whole weekend being sick and canceling plans. Paisley had croup last week and was the most miserable I have ever seen her. I know being sick isn't that bad in the grand scheme of things, but it really sucks when it forces you to miss two days of work. Dean brought me some Vicks vapor rub, but after the Icy-Hot incident, I am petrified of anything menthol.

Saturday, January 21, 2017

It Only Took A Day

Disclaimer: Let me go on record here and say I do not like Trump. My personal political views are far from conservative. However, I have many friends (some I consider family) that I genuinely love and respect that are Conservative, Evangelical, Republicans. I do not love them any less for their vote. I do not respect them any less for their vote. I believe they voted with their conscience and I cannot condemn them for that. We have a difference of opinion, that is understandable. The only time I cannot continue respect is when insults become personal and adults start acting like children. That applies to both sides of the political divide. 


Today is January 21, 2017. Donald Trump has been the President of the United States for just over 24 hours now. As promised, on day one, he got to work to make some big changes to the healthcare system. Roughly 45 minutes ago my mother called me in tears. Her pain medication that she has been taking regularly for over 12 years, while under close watch of her primary care physician, is no longer covered under medicaid with out jumping though several hoops. Those hoops will take time and money she does not have. So, she must live in excruciating pain caused from a broken back that did not receive proper medical attention for months.

My mother lives in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania. It's Trump country. The population of the entire county is roughly 6,000 people and the median income hovers around $26 k. She does not have a working vehicle and less than zero disposable income. Needless to say, she doesn't really have access to a lot of resources. This is why the new rules for her medication are a problem. In order for her pain medicine to be covered, she needs to be seeing a pain management specialist. Seems easy enough. Well, it's not. The closest pain management specialist is about an hour and a half's drive from her home. Not an easy task when you don't have a working vehicle or the gas money to offer someone. Not to mention, the wait-list for this doctor is so long that it will take her at least 3 months to be able to get an appointment. She will only be allowed to receive one months worth of medicine per doctor's visit. This would be fine if she was able to get there once a month, but due to the high demand of patients (my mother is not the only one with this problem), appointments are scheduled every 8 to 12 weeks.

Someone please explain to me how this is making America great?


 My mother marched today.  In her tiny little town full of Trump supporters.  Alone and in spite of pain.  I have never been more proud.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Nap Time Nightmares

Paisley has decided that sleep is for chumps and she would much rather color all day than take a nap. I know I stopped taking a nap at a young age, but I was really hoping we could stretch it out with her. It would be fine if I could just put her in the crib and leave her for some quiet time. The problem is, when I do that, disaster strikes.  It's happened more than once now.  I put her down for a nap, she does not fall asleep, I go back in an hour and she has completely disrobed. There is poop all over her, her crib, her favorite blanket, and her doll. She must be related to Houdini some how, cause this girl can get out of any onesie, zippered pajamas, backward diaper combo there is.  On Saturday it was so bad that I threw up. On her. Yes, I threw up on my child. I stared a savings account for all the therapy she will need when she gets older.

I had this brilliant idea that I would push her bedtime back by a half hour. I would make sure she is not sleeping in too late so she would nap in the afternoon.  Well, that backfired.  Not only did she not nap, she was over tired and grumpy all day. When bedtime finally came, I cried literal tears of joy.

I've reached that point in motherhood I've heard about, but never really gave it much thought. That part where I am desperate to have a conversation about anything but Daniel Tiger or work. The part where I can say I need a break and not feel guilty about it.  I heard other mothers say these things but I guess I never fully listened cause it never crossed my mind until this week. let me just get this out there: I hear you all loud and clear now!

There may be some hope.  Dean sent me this picture today.  Of course, he could have just drugged her.  I am not fully convinced this happened naturally.