On Broccoli and Bunny Rabbits . . .

Tonight Mom #2 is making a delicious Asian stir-fry with the first beautiful broccoli of the season from our very own garden! 

She managed to save this one from the bunny rabbits, rabbits, and more rabbits by leaving a couple of lettuces right out in the open for them to nibble on while hiding the broccoli in a very inconvenient location.  

Silly Rabbits!

I can't wait.  Dinner's going to be so delicious!

Until next time . . .

Italian, Anyone?

It's that time again, Boys and Girls . . . let's go to the opera!

First up in 2011 is L'italiana in Algeri, a true classic by Gioachino Antonio Rossini. 

Baby Boy and I are so excited!  Well, actually, I'm so excited, Baby Boy understands that culture and the arts are some of the sparkliest tools in a well-rounded young man's toolbox.  He likes it too, maybe not as much as I do, but I'm still trying to develop it.  

Besides an evening out with my favorite young man is something I've been looking forward to for weeks! 

Plus, he's such a fabulous escort.


Until next time . . .

No Chocolate for Me, Thanks

I'm trying to lose weight.  *SIGH* 

I'm doing it for my back, for my heart, for my blood pressure, and because I just plain need to.   

Mom #2 and I are piecing together our own pseudo Weight Watchers plan since we're too cheap to join up for real.   We've been doing pretty good.  We haven't gone over our allotted points at all, even though it has been more than tempting on a few occasions.  

My biggest problem is Dessert.  I love Dessert.  Dessert if my favorite food.  I really enjoy Dessert before, during, and after each meal . . . between meals too . . . cake . . . cookies . . . ice cream . . . all of these things are my favorite foods.  I am a bonafide sugar addict.  

So I've been trying to limit myself to one low calorie Dessert a day.  It's been so hard.  So very very very hard.  I really miss Dessert.  It's like breaking up a really good marriage.  Dessert and I have had a love affair that has outlasted pretty much every other relationship I've ever had. 

My problem is that low calorie Desserts seem to all have one thing in common . . . chocolate. 

I hate chocolate.  

I know, you may be shocked when you read that there is really one stressed out student-wife-Mom who does not think that the optimal way to end a long day is with a piece of chocolate.  Every single low calorie Dessert has chocolate sprinkles, chocolate chips, chocolate bits, chocolate ribbons, or chocolate swirls added to it.  It doesn't matter what the heck it is, a piece of sugar-free cardboard perhaps, it'll be smothered in chocolate to make it palatable to the chocoholics out there.  YUCK!

I just about fell off the wagon last night, after saving up 5 points for 1/4 cup of Weight Watchers Peanut Butter Delight ice cream, I popped it open to discover it was swimming in chocolate.  WHY????  I almost burst into tears.  It's called Peanut Butter Delight, the peanut butter is what makes it delightful.  Who decided that adding chocolate was a good idea?  Sheeze!

I just need a good, sweet, satifying, low calorie Dessert that has NO CHOCOLATE in it . . . PLEASE . . . my future depends on it. 

That's all. 



Until next time . . .

Taken Aback!

My back hurts. A lot.

I can sit fairly comfortably, but standing and walking are pretty much out of the question.  It hurts.  

I've been hemming and hawing for the past few days trying to pretend it doesn't hurt, but . . . it hurts.

I can't really figure out why it hurts.  I wasn't doing anything rash like the last time I threw my back out.  In fact, Baby Boy and I have been doing a lot of nothing during our Winter Break from classes.  It's been heavenly.

Yesterday I decided to go to the doctor who sees the pathetically destitute and uninsured for same day appointments.  Mom #2 had to work, so I hobbled myself over there, tried to find a comfortable position to sit in with those nasty-hard-waiting-room-chairs, and then proceeded to further humiliate myself by not being able to follow the perky blond nurse very well as she skipped along in front of me to the doctor's office (you know, once she finally called my name.)

I did all of that so that the doctor could come into the examining room and in sixty seconds flat call me fat (which I am, but still . . . the nerve), tell me that since I had injured my own back (in 2008, on purpose, don't you know), that he is refusing to treat me.  He said that even though that was over two years ago, and I have had no incidents of back pain since then, this is now a chronic condition and can only be treated by a Pain Management Center.

Oh, and the pièce de résistance - he also mentioned that the only Pain Management Center that would even consider working within the financial terms I can afford is . . . [drum roll please] . . . about 100 miles away.

With the price of gas these days - AS IF!

So, in conclusion, my back hurts.

We'll just leave it at that for now. 

Until next time . . .

Is It That Time Again Already?

Well it appears I'll be starting off 2011 with a bang.

Yesterday my sister called and let me know that she's been getting letters and phone calls from bill collectors looking for my Mom.  Apparently Mom has fallen behind on paying some bills.  Why did my sister call me instead of Mom?  Because I'm Mom's payee for her disability benefits and I'm supposed to make sure she isn't mis-managing her funds.

Well, obviously I'm falling a little short on that job.  *insert shameful downcast eyes here*

I did get all of her finances in order when she got her own place (Did I tell y'all she's in her own place now?  It's a very recent development.)  and fixed her up on a working budget that left her plenty of extra spending money in addition to paying for all of her needs.  I tried to give her a little responsibility of her own so she wouldn't feel like I was sassing her.  Moms don't stand for sass here in the South, believe me.

She gets a nice disability check, plus my Dad, who's still very much in love with her even though they're divorced, gives her generous guilt money, please come back to me money, can you cook me dinner money, spousal support.  She is not impoverished in any way. 

I'm very concerned because little idiosyncrasies like this always creep up right before her schizo-affective disorder breaks out for another run.  Retail therapy has always been one of her pre-relapse symptoms.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a reprieve, but not holding my breath.

So this weekend, I have the unnatural and awkward task of going to Mom's house and auditing her finances to see where all of her money is going.   The hardest part is that she will not cooperate freely and it's going to be a painful power struggle, but it's a struggle I have to win.  I'm considering taking full responsibility for paying her bills and setting her up on an allowance instead of just trusting her to follow through on the budget I've created for her.  We're not talking about a senile old lady; Mom's in her mid-fifties and very strong willed.  So sad.   

Sometimes it's such a chore being the oldest child.   

Wish me luck!

Until next time . . .