It's been a rollercoaster week here at Casa Bedhead.
It was O's birthday on Thursday. She's 14. Which, what the hell, how did that happen? And I don't want to be jinxing things too much, but considering she's of an age when she's supposed to be impossible and defiant and difficult and all those other fantastic teenage characteristics, she's really a pretty good kid. Sure, she has her moments, but who doesn't? I know I have mine, in spades. I think my moments are more like days, but whatever. This isn't about me (for once).
O was supposed to have three friends sleep over on Friday night. I was going to rent them some movies, get them some pizza and some soda and make popcorn and it was going to be a nice, if loud and giggly, time. But then all three friends bailed on her. One girl had a wedding, one girl's parents wouldn't let her and the third got a last minute babysitting job. O was bummed. Very bummed.
On the fly, I decided that I'd take her out to dinner and a movie instead. She was happy with that. We were going to go to The Outback (her choice) and to see Journey To The Center Of The Earth on Friday night. This did not happen.
Why? Well, Boo woke up on Friday morning soaked to her knees with pee. Her preschool teacher had mentioned on Thursday that Boo was using the bathroom a lot at school and said that her breath smelled sweet and funky. Alarm bells started going off. I checked Boo's blood sugar on Friday morning. It was 160. As soon as they opened, I was on the phone to the pediatrician's office. They saw her that afternoon and found glucose in her urine. The pediatrician wanted to run more lab work, so we were at the office until after 6 p.m.. The results were inconclusive and I have to check Boo's blood sugars over the weekend and follow up on Monday.
So, no dinner and movie on Friday. We went yesterday and over dinner, I asked O if she would rather go to the movies or go shopping. Her grandmother gave her a $35 gift card to Pac Sun and I said we could spend about $30 in addition, since that's probably what we would have spent at the theater anyway. She, naturally, decided to go shopping.
She got a couple of shirts at Pac Sun and we went to Macy's to get some MAC foundation. She'd been complaining about her face, how she keeps breaking out and nothing covers it and I told her about the amazingness of MAC's foundation. Luckily we have the same skin tone, so we're going to share it. But ouch - it's $27.50 a bottle. Still. Since I STILL get zits (and what the FUCK is up with that?? I'm old, goddammit, I should not be getting zits like I'm some pizza-scarfing 15 year-old boy.) and know what a pain in the ass it is to try to conceal them (I've given up at this point. Jesus, parenthetical much, Julia?), I thought I'd splurge.
It was a nice night out. We had fun. O talked my ear off, which was nice, if somewhat exhausting. I'm really glad that she likes to talk to me and tell me what's going on with her friends and her life. It makes me feel like maybe I haven't completely screwed up.
Back to Thursday, though (man, this post is going to need editing). Her father called her on her birthday. Now, normally that would be a nice thing, but her father hasn't contacted her in 5 months and hasn't seen her in almost 2 years, so this was decidedly Not Good. He said he'd called to wish her a happy birthday and that he couldn't talk but he'd call her back later. O was in hysterics about this. She doesn't want to talk to him. She sent him an email telling him that 5 months ago - a shit or get off the pot email, saying that she didn't just want to have a phone relationship with him, that she wanted to see him, that she wanted him to make the effort to visit (he only lives an hour away). She emailed it and heard nothing. For five months. She thought she was done having to deal with him, only to have him come back again and throw her for a loop. It's really sucked. A lot. For everyone. I hate that I can't fix this for her, that I can't just make him go away and leave her alone. I hate that he keeps screwing with her head. And if he ever calls here again, I'm going to tell him that.
In other news, That Canadian Boy I Married may possibly have a couple of herniated discs in his back and has been laid up on the couch every night for almost 2 weeks. He has to get more x-rays done tomorrow and will be seen again on Thursday, but in the meantime, he's in awful pain. His mother has horrible back problems and I'm afraid he may have inherited her issues, which is worrying. Degenerative disc issues are not fun.
And The Bug is going to be evaluated by Early Intervention because she keeps falling down. I've taken her to the pediatrician, too, and there doesn't seem to be anything structurally wrong with her, so the pediatrician suggested EI. I'm fine with that, and although I don't know if she'll qualify for any services, it can't hurt to have her looked at.
I don't know what I did in a past life - maybe I killed babies or something - but I do wish this dark cloud of doom would move the fuck away from me and my family. It's sucking the life out of me.