This and That

Heard around the house:

Little Guy: Mom, you're my favorite EVER!

Your favorite what?

Little Guy: My favorite Mom!

But I'm your only mom.

Little Guy: Well then you're still my favorite!
_____________________

The Aspiring Adult: Mam (He's not quite up to calling me mom, but he doesn't want to call me Aunt Atiila)? Me and Dom (his best friend) have decided to do what we call "Manly Mondays".

Manly Mondays?

TAA: Yeah, we're going to do manly things like wash our cars and then go over to Wild Wings and eat chicken wings and check out the chicks (they have a really rude rating system).

Later I get a phone call...

TAA: The wind is blowing too hard to wash our cars. Can we come home and bake a cake? I promise we'll clean up the mess!

Don't you want to save that for Wifely Wednesday?

LOL

Bodies in the Bed

I recently read an article that asked, "Is it Smart to Sleep with Your Pets?" The conclusion the author came to seems to be "no".

While I agree with one commenter who stated that the article seemed like a not-so-thinly veiled advertisement for pet beds, I was somewhat surprised (and amused) at how offended about 95% of the commentators were.

Ok, and I admit, I was a little grossed out too.

We're not cat people, so I really don't have an informed opinion about that. We have 4 dogs, and they sleep in their own beds.

This is why:

1) We wash the dogs once a week. We clean their beds once a week. Even so, the amount of dirt and crap they track into the beds is not something I want to be rolling around in.

2) Hair/fur/hitchhikers. On the sheets, on the pillow, in my mouth. No. Absolutely no.

3) True story. A friend I knew in my younger days had this happen to her. While sleeping over at a boyfriend's house, they woke up in the night and decided to get frisky. With her on top. Sometime in the middle of all of it, she felt a cold nose up her crack, and then a long wet tongue.

Bloop!

Apparently boyfriend's Great Dane heard the commotion and innocently wanted to check out the fun and games. Which of course sent my friend screaming off into the night.

...AND HAS SKEEVED THE HECK OUT OF ME FOR ALL TIME!!

I don't want a third party in my bed, much less my room if we decide to be spontaneous. Yeck.

Here are some of the comments from the article and my response:

"Their unconditional love is worth every slobber and paw in the face."

I slobber enough on my own, and Hubby has been known to inadvertently slap me around in his sleep. Any additional "unconditional love" like that and I'll never get a wink in.

"No greater thing than to feel you dog next to you at night, petting her and finding your hubby's hand there as well."

I don't want anything between me and my man when we're finally alone together at night. Except maybe a pillow when he's been eating burritos.

"I'm with you, been sleeping with dogs and cats some 50 years and can't imagine sleeping alone. If a significant other can't deal with that then they are not very significant."

So you're "alone" when you're sleeping with your significant other? Would you feel less lonely if he slept in a squirrel suit or licked his own balls in bed?

"I will ask my husband to sleep in another room, but NOT my dogs or cats for that matter!"

The great Karmac sees a divorce lawyer in your future.

"I have eight cats and seven sleep with me on a queen sized bed."

They don't do it because they love you. They're just waiting for you to die in your sleep so they can eat you.

So my friends, do you furbie or not? Waiting for the rocks to be thrown! LOL

Endings

Hubby's mom passed away peacefully on Wednesday afternoon. They had just moved her from the hospital back to her apartment and had set up hospice care. Hubby was planning on spending the night (they had moved a hospital bed into her living room area).

He changed into his sweats, sat down next to her and took her hand. A couple of minutes later she slipped away.

I can't think of a more peaceful way to go---in your sleep with someone you love holding you to usher you out of this world.

Go gently into that good night, Mom P.

And the hits just keep coming...

I didn't want to disappear for another week without saying goodbye.

We got the news yesterday that Hubby's mom is dying and spent the day trying to get a last-minute flight to the east coast.

Thanks so much to all of you who commented, called and emailed about our guy. Your words are so kind and uplifting.

Hope you all have a peaceful week.

ATM

Day 195 Update

Just wanted to fill everybody in on what's going on with my oldest son, Big Kid---a little more than 6 months after he was admitted to the hospital with complications from H1N1. You've all been so kind in comments and emails, so I wanted to update.

He's still on oxygen almost 20+ hours a day. When he's down at Kitty's house (about 2000 less in elevation than our house), he can go off of it for about an hour and a half tops with a saturation level of about 88---which is in the normal range for most of us. Then inexplicably it suddenly drops to like 68 or 70, which is low enough to be hospitalized. It's not gradual, it's just happens immediately.

A couple of times they've been out (and not planning ahead with the tank on hand) and he's just fallen over, gasping.

My boy.

We had him evaluated cognitively and neurologically recently. It was time----giving him time to recover and to see what the possible long-term damage from oxygen deprivation might be.

This morning we got the results.

His neurological diagnostician is one we've seen twice before. First when Big Kid was about 13, and had a psychotic episode on his stimulant meds that had treated his ADHD initially. It wasn't working anymore, and at puberty, he started compulsively washing his hands until they bled.

The next time was about 4 years ago when Big Kid had a breakdown away at college and was hallucinating. He was ultimately diagnosed with bi-polar disorder and a panic disorder.

So Big Kid went through an intensive neurological testing process again.

And I've been crying all afternoon.

He's got new pronounced attention and short-term memory deficits. His processing functions have significantly been impaired---meaning that whatever information he retains can be only be accessed with an extended amount of time to get to it.

His fine motor deficits are mostly caused by the loss of spatial recognition. He can't place 3 blocks on another without it all falling down.

Bless his heart.

While the doc was giving us his findings, my boy got really confused and scared. We were sitting next to each other on a loveseat in the doc's office and he grabbed me and said, "Mom, does this mean that I'm mentally retarded now?"

I'm sad. I'm so sad.

Big Kid remembers when his mental functions were better. He's frustrated by it all, and scared. Yes, scared.

The doc has made many recommendations as to testing (recommended a brain scan among other tests) and cognitive therapy.

So we're going to have to start a new phase now.

I'm sorry to be such a baby. I just need to get this despair out of my system. I can't cry in front of him, I have to be strong. But I can spill it all to you guys.

My boy. My precious boy.

No Angel or Keep Your Bones to Yourself

I just don't get it. I really don't get it.

The question came up when Tiger Woods' infidelities came to light. Now it's come up again and it's bugging the heck out of me.

First of all, shame on you, David Boreanz. You're a real prince. Not. Coming clean in public about multiple affairs (and calling your girlfriend while your wife was giving birth is especially heinous in the halls of douchebaggery) to avoid being extorted doesn't mitigate what a dirtbag you are.

That said, here's what's been boggling my mind.

One woman, who Boreanz allegedly "hooked up with 2 or 3 times", started asking him for money. She hired Ho to the Ho's attorney Gloria Allred who contacted his attorney and demanded a 6 figure payout.

Oddly enough, Allred represents another one of Boreanz's alleged rolls in the hay in a similar case against Tiger Woods (Allred is representing several of Woods' alleged flings in monetary suits). Apparently Woods and Boreanz both rode this particular hobby horse (although not in the same room). ugh

What I want to know is under WHAT legal theory Allred is basing these claims on?

I could see it if one of these sisters was successful in her quest for celebrity seed and was filing a paternity suit for child support. Ugly, yes, but she'd have a legal claim to a piece of the pie.

But if it's money to keep quiet about the affairs, then isn't that blackmail or extortion? Which is illegal, of course.

Or if it's money for "services rendered", isn't that prostitution? Sleep with a celebrity and you're entitled to get paid? Again illegal, at least in 49 states.

Although she herself is a ho of the first order, I can't see Allred, as an officer of the court, demanding illegal settlements in cases that are so much in the public eye.

So what in the world is her legal theory regarding these claims?

Anybody know?

Asshat of the Week---Illinois Rep. Sara Feigenholtz

As many of my long-time blog friends know, I not only advocate for those who have disabilities, but for the restoration of equal civil rights as citizens in this country to adult adoptees. This is going to be a little long, so if you don't want to invest yourself, back out now! :-)

I'm an adoptee and have been in reunion for about 8 years. You can read a letter to my birth mother here.

I'm not interested in having a debate with those who think they know the history and legalities of adoption in this country, but here is a crash course on it for those who aren't familiar with it.

Relinquishment of a child and the adoption of a child are two separate legal acts. Once the birth parents relinquish their rights to a child, they no longer have any say in ANYTHING about the child at all. Ever. They have NO MORE rights over the child. If the child languishes in foster care until they age out of the system and is never adopted, they will receive their full records, including their original birth certificate with all of their birth information. There is no expectation of privacy on behalf of the birth parents, and there never was, legally.

There has never been in any state at any time a document produced that guarantees a birth parent anonymity from any of their offspring. Once they relinquished their rights, that was it. That was and almost until now, the law across the land.

Records started being closed to outsiders AFTER an adoption was finalized around the late 40's or so in many states, mostly because of the shame of infertility, illegitimacy and basically to protect the new adoptive family from those pesky birthmothers who might show up on their doorsteps for Sunday dinner.

Adoptees were then issued a new and falsified government document that stated that our adoptive parents ACTUALLY gave birth to us. And our original birth certificates were locked away, meant never to be seen again.

Therein lies one of many things that are wrong with closed adoption. I didn't spring into life the day my adoption was final---almost a year after my birth. To quote adoptee activist Abigail Lovett, "I existed before that."

Since then, adoption in this country has become a multi-billion dollar industry. The industry has a vested interest in keeping the cash cow going. They are afraid that if records are open to adult adoptees that women will choose abortion instead of adoption. Published studies from reputable institutions have already disproved that. States that have open records have an equal or lesser rate of abortion than closed records states. Not more. Don't believe it? Show me reputable studies, not anecdotal quotes from industry shills. I bet mine will trump yours.

But mostly the industry (including the Catholic Church) is afraid that systematic abuses from the past will come to light if records are opened. There is a lot more about the "baby scoop era", etc that I'm not going to get into here.

Unlike today, where there is mostly open adoption of domestic infants (where the adoptive and birth parents have met each other and maintain some sort of contact), the era where I was adopted from (late 1940's to early 1970's) is full of secrets and lies.

My birthmother was told that there was a family waiting for me. My prospective parents were "both psychologists" and waiting to take me home from the hospital. She thought I'd have free therapy for life. ;-)

Instead, I was placed in foster care for a few months. My eventual parents---who had requested a boy---were called and asked if they'd be willing to take a girl. The "pedigree" that my parents were furnished with from the agency said that I was of Irish and German descent.

In reality, my birth family is Scottish, English with a little French thrown in. But who would ever know?

I was born in a closed record state. I've already found my birth family, and I didn't need my original birth certificate to do it. Thousands of adoptees and birth families are finding each other every year without the benefit of open records.

But today, even if I walked into court in the jurisdiction where I was adopted with both of my mothers---adoptive and biological by my side---to ask for my birth records, I would be denied.

Why?

Because the law says that as an adoptee, I am forever a child and need to be protected from my own personal information. It doesn't matter that I own my own home, own other property and a business, pay taxes, carpool, can own a licensed gun, am married, have children, am allowed to drink, could join the military if my butt wasn't so big and am allowed to vote.

In the eyes of the state, I will forever be a child.

Every other citizen in the U.S. is allowed access to their own original record of their birth. But not adult adoptees. This is not a reunion issue----many adoptees have no wish to reunite and a large number of us don't need our sealed records to find our birth families. It's a civil rights issue. Why are some citizens more equal in this country than others? Why are you more "special" than me? Why does the state get to decide?

The opposition to open records (those vested with the "cash cow" or in hiding the industry's shameful past) now claim that if adoptees were granted their birth records, it would violate the privacy of birth parents. They want to give birth parents a new legal right they NEVER had before---one over another adult citizen of this country.

Enter Illinois Representative Sara Feigenholtz, who sponsored a bill that, as blogger Bastardette writes, "has eviscerated adoptee civil rights in the state." It has turned adult adoptees into two separate classes of citizen---the haves and the have nots. It has given birth parents NEW rights over the children they relinquished all rights to decades ago.

Currently 8 states have open records to adult adoptees. Kansas and Alaska have never closed their records, and the other states have opened theirs in the last 10-12 years or so. Those states certainly haven't imploded with the horror of restoring rights to its citizens. Most of the countries in the industrialized world have opened records to their citizens and they haven't been blown off the map.

Adoptee activist Lori Jeske from Washington State wrote to Rep. Feigenholtz at her state contact email address expressing her dismay that a fellow Democrat wouldn't stand up for the rights of ALL the citizens of Illinois.

This was Feigenholtz's response, reprinted with Jeske's permission.

---- Original Message -----
From: Sara
To: Lori Jeske
Sent: Monday, April 26, 2010 10:00 PM
Subject: Re: HB 5428

Lori:
Thank you so much for your kind remarks about HB 5428.

We will pay for your travel and housing expenses if you will come here and start working on a new bill that completes the effort so that all adoptees get their obc. Are you ready to move to Illinois and sacrifice your life to work for adoption reform for the next fifteen years in the frigid winter tundra of Illinois?

Would you consider giving Representative Feigenholtz the key to your (delusional) Eutopian world where all ungrateful bastards think it's easy to pass a bill that makes everyone happy AND CAN ACTUALLY PASS ? Pass a law? what a concept !!

Many Illinois born 65+ year old adoptees will get their birth certificates BEFORE THEY DIE--- very soon.

We will tell them that you would prefer to throw good under the bus while waiting for perfect and that you think they should wait a little longer.

Good luck in Washington state with your efforts. We can hear the unsealing now.......

NOT.
___________________________________

This is why you, Representative Sara Feigenholtz are this week's Asshat.

You're such a professional and a real class act.

NOT.

P.S. It's U-T-O-P-I-A-N. Snap.

This and That and Concrete-Head

Oh it's been a busy month. The level of pollen has been reportedly higher than usual, and boy-oh-boy do I feel it! Unfortunately with my heart condition, I'm not able to take any kind of cold medicine, so I've been going through each day with any number of kleenex falling out of my pockets for the dogs to pounce on and destroy.

Big Kid is really struggling with this semester. Unfortunately, his biological dad's company (who insures him) refused to let him take off a semester to recover from his illness so he's been having a lot of difficulty getting through his classes, even though they're online. His professors have been understanding, but his grades are awful and this is devastating to him.

He's still on oxygen 18-20 hours a day, and he rarely remembers what he had for dinner the night before. My boy.

Little Guy turned 20 a couple of days ago. ::sniff sniff:: He's gotten a type of grant that will pay an employer to hire him for a couple of months so he's very excited at the possibilities of working here in town.

Last week he did something really fabulous and I just wanted to share...

Remember when I wrote about how using the telephone scared him?

On Mondays, the van picks him up at 12pm for his afternoon classes. He usually goes out a little early to wait for it, and when I looked out the window at 12:10 I didn't see him, so I thought he'd gone. I took my concrete head to bed and dozed off.

At 1:00 I woke up to find him standing next to my bed.

"Didn't the van come?" I asked him sleepily. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

It's ok, Mom. I took care of it.

"What? We need to call them?"

I did it myself, he said proudly. I didn't want to bother you.

It was amazing! He actually looked up the high school number in the phone book, dialed the phone, and asked for his teacher. When it went to her voicemail, he left her a message saying that the van hadn't come.

This was really a huge, huge step for him. I'm so thrilled!

So how have YOU all been?

Real or Not?

I was browsing through AOL's headlines when I came across this article regarding Celebrity No Pants Day.

Is this a joke? I looked all over for a disclaimer, but didn't see one.

Most of these people I can see dropping their drawers for whatever reason. They don't need a reason. They're ho's.

But Oprah Winfrey---who could arguably be considered the First Lady of Television? It's like seeing Queen Elizabeth in a thong. Improbable and I have a hard time believing that she'd do something so lacking in dignity.

The one that really baffles me is George Clooney. He must have had one hell of a manscaping job, because, well heck---I'm envious at how smooth and taut his lower half is. And he must have microscopic testicles, because he just ain't carrying a package down there.

What do you think? Fake?

Back in the Bunny Slippers of Doom

Gah!

You know, I'd mostly retired those darn things. Big Kid and Little Guy are practically cooked and grown, and The Happening Dude is a very capable and independent guy. This week, I've had to break the Bunny Slippers of Doom out not once, but twice, to kick some heinie.

The Happening Dude, who now wants to be referred to as "The Aspiring Adult" is on spring break. He's applied to and been accepted to the local community college to attend their nursing program. Their waiting list is long, as their program is excellent. His plan is to get his CNA (certified nursing assistant) certificate first, so that maybe he can get work in the field while going through nursing school.

The college has a new associate degree program called "Allied Health". While on the waiting list to get into the nursing program, our Aspiring Adult can get his CNA certification, phlebotomist certification and basic EMT certification, as well as taking the core classes required for an Associates Degree. Win/win all the way around for him.

He had an appointment with an advisor a couple of days ago. Since I had to take Big Kid to ANOTHER appointment down in the city, he rode down with me, and I dropped him off at the campus. When I picked him up, he was fuming.

The "Allied Health" program is brand new. It is listed on the college's website----not hidden in the nursing program---but with it's very own tab under degree programs offered.

Apparently the advisor wasn't up-to-speed on the program because he insisted that it wasn't something the college offered. Although he had a computer right there in his office, he refused to go to the campus website and look it up when the Aspiring Adult asked him to. He hadn't heard about it, so it wasn't available, thank you very much, if you don't want to get on a waiting list for the nursing program, well then get out of my office.

::sigh::

Had to get on the horn and do the whup ass thing.

For the last few weeks, Big Kid has been obsessed about getting a new cell phone.

Mind you, during the last year and a half, I've been paying for a phone that has all the bells and whistles. At least the phone does. The 59.99 plan that I've paid for through Verizon that actually costs 79.99 after all the taxes and fees, only covers phone and text. Not downloads or data transfer.

After getting monthly bills of around 150.00 last year, I started taking money out of the small monthly stipend we give him to pay for the overages. Of course, when he was in the ICU, there were no excess charges, but I started again after he got out and went back to Kitty's.

I didn't get why he needed a new and better phone, since the plan he was on didn't really allow for all the new, cool stuff he wanted to use. It just didn't make sense. Plus I've got 6 months left the phone contract, and I don't feeling like paying 200 bucks to cancel it. So I said no---at least if you're expecting ME to pay for it. Hang it out until the contract is up, and we'll see if we can upgrade the phone and get a more reasonable calling plan.

But no. He and Kitty in their infinite wisdom, bought a new, cooler phone from a used cell phone place for $150.00. He had to have the---uh---I don't know---software? changed so he could go on a month-to-month plan with Cricket. I had him bring back the phone I was paying for, and the Aspiring Adult took it over and agreed to make the payments. Since he actually has a couple of jobs and all.

Anyhoo, Big Kid got the new phone on Wednesday of last week. Found out that with Cricket he couldn't use all the bells and whistles, and then suddenly on Friday, the phone went dead. He took it back to where he bought it, and they reset it. Except when he got home, it was back to its original factory settings (Sprint) and it wouldn't work with Cricket.

Over the weekend, he figured that a month-to-month plan with Cricket wouldn't work with what he wanted, and decided to explore what offers Sprint had.

He typed in the serial number and found out that the phone had been reported as stolen.

Called me yesterday to ask my advice, and I told him to take the phone back (he hadn't even had it for a week) with his receipt and demand his 150.00 back. If they wouldn't give it back, then we'd sue them. No biggie.

Talked to him this morning, and asked if he'd done it. He'd taken the phone back, told them that Sprint said it was stolen, and they offered him 45.00 to take it back.

And he did it. Gave them the phone back for 45.00. Arrrgghhh!!!

I said that he wasn't quite right in the head since his illness. He thought it was his only option.

When I found out, I put on my killer bunny slippers and opened up a can of whup ass.

Called and talked to a sales associate. Asked to talk to the manager.

The manager "wasn't available".

So I asked for her full name, and asked the associate to spell it.

Gave her my name and phone number. Told her I was in the middle of filing a police report regarding their selling of stolen goods and taking advantage of a person who had disabilities. I would appreciate a call back from the manager before I filed it. Gave them 10 minutes.

I got a call in 3 minutes.

Explained the situation to the manager, and she said the Big Kid could come in and pick out another phone. Said that she'd be there and personally take care of it.

I sarcastically said that I expected that he'd be getting a "clean" phone and one that hadn't been stolen. She assured me that he would.

I thought she'd say, "Well of course we don't sell stolen phones!"

You just WON'T believe what she actually said.

Not, "If we inadvertently get a phone that's been stolen, we notify the company and try to return it."

She said, "well that's why we changed the service to another carrier. You can't get a plan with the same company if the phone has been stolen."

WTF? Seriously.

Even though this worked out for us, Hubby is friends with the DA down in the city. He's going to give him all of the information tomorrow and let them handle it.

On a note with a high yuck factor, now that the Aspiring Adult has Big Kid's old phone, he went about deleting the old data and picture files that were stored there in order to make it his.

Unfortunately, Big Kid didn't get around to deleting the pics he took of Kitty in the bathtub before turning the phone over.

I kept the Aspiring Adult from poking his own eyeballs out, but he has definitely been traumatized.

See, like I said before---Big Kid is just still not right. WTF was he thinking?

Clusterflucking and Update on Big Kid

Arrggh.

Sorry I haven't been around, but I've had 12---no kidding---12 appointments regarding all the boys in the last week and a half. 9 of them were down in the city, which necessitates a minimum 45-minute drive each way.

Here's a funny. After days of warm weather, on Sunday night, we had 8 inches of snow. Monday morning, Hubby backed my car up the steep driveway (I'm a good driver, but a notoriously bad backer upper. All the crushed solar lights that line the driveway are a testament to that). He scraped my car off, kept it running to warm it up for me, and lifted the hood to check the windshield wiper fluid because the trek down the mountain was promising to be muddy and messy.

What did he find?

Rabbits. Live rabbits.

Really. They were laying on top of everything to find shelter from the snow.

Last year, I wrote about Big Kid's court case for disability benefits. Although he's been treated for his disabilities since Kindergarten with full documentation, and he has been extensively treated since his breakdown away at college, we had to go to court.

Even though 4 doctors and therapists who have treated him for over 10 years and a 5th doctor EMPLOYED by the social security administration to evaluate him on THEIR behalf concurred that he had a significant impairment that necessitated benefits (his medication alone costs over 500.00 a month without insurance), he was denied.

Why? Because he told his doctors that the only time he felt emotionally "normal" was when he smoked pot. He confessed to them that he would seek it out whenever and wherever he could. All of them agreed that self-medicating is not abnormal for people who have bi-polar disorder (one of his diagnoses). However, some pencil pusher with the SSA decided that he was only bi-polar because he smoked pot. The judge agreed.

Our advocate got a bit pissy with us because Big Kid had confessed this information to his docs.

But really??? WTF? If you can't tell your medical professionals---who are trying to make you better---then who the hell can you confess this to? All of his doctors got a bit indignant over the whole thing, because they KNOW that smoking pot doesn't cause the genetic disabilities that Big Kid has.

So for the past year during the appeal phase, Big Kid hasn't gotten high. He's been ready for a pee test 24/7.

Yesterday, we had several appointments. Big Kid was out of oxygen, so I brought a replacement tank down from the mountains. Kitty brought him to a location between her house and mine, so we could do a quick changeover and then I could run him around to his meetings.

We changed the tanks and then made a revolting discovery. Kitty forgot the "key" that opens the tanks in her other purse. Oy. We had to run all over kingdom come oxygenless to find a hardware store in an area none of us was familiar with. Finally we found an AutoZone and bought a pair of pliers.

Anyhoo, after our morning meetings and lunch, Big Kid had an appointment with his neuropsych. A couple of months ago after he got out of the hospital, I wrote about an issue we had with this doctor and his staff. Although I thought things were smoothed over, I might be wrong.

He basically accused Big Kid of being high at his appointment. The kid was tired from the lack of oxygen incident, and from all of his other meetings (we were at the college, and the campus is HUGE---he had to do a lot of walking). And on top of that, since his illness, he's just not right. He still has significant short-term memory problems, which is what we've been telling his doctors. He's set up for a complete cognitive and neurological evaluation in a few weeks.

The problem is not that the doctor thought Big Kid might be high. He was rambling in disjointed trains of thought which has been the norm since he got sick. The problem is that the doc might have put in his NOTES that the kid *appeared* to be high. Since we're submitting new evidence to support his disability appeal, when the SSA requests doctors' notes, they're going to specifically request anything that has to do with pot.

So today I have to convince our family doc (who has taken over Big Kid's recovery treatment) of the necessity of ordering a urine test at a lab immediately, so that we have documentation to support our assertion that although the boy might have appeared to be high, it was an effect from his illness, not from recreational drugs. And then I have to drive down from the mountains AGAIN to take him to pee in a cup.

Sigh.

How's YOUR week?

xo

Random Just Wonderings...

I've been having a few random thoughts rattling around in my brain, and thought I'd see what your take is.

Since I take law classes, I pay a lot of attention to lawsuits and court cases that are in the news. One thing has frequently puzzled me.

In many lawsuits over the past few years regarding the death of a child (either a minor or adult child) brought by parents, they often claim among their damages "future earnings" of said child. And they're often asking millions of dollars.

I can understand their pain and suffering, and wanting to get punitive damages if their child was killed by someone else's negligence. Really, really I do.

What I want to know is---as far as REAL damages are concerned after hospital or funeral expenses, etc...

Number one---what makes them think that their child would have grown up to be a multi-million dollar earner? Were there certain expectations because the child was gifted in some way? In one lawsuit in the last year, the "child" was like 24 and worked at 7-11.

And number two---what kind of parent expects their child to support them once the child has the potential to earn money? It's one thing if a parent is old and infirm, has few assets and the child is doing well financially. Maybe they might have expected $100,000 tops in help. But seriously, who expects their 21-year-old to start supporting them as soon as they get a job?

How do they justify that to a court, and to themselves?

Just wondering.
_________________________________________

When I first started going on the internet, I made an agreement with Hubby. I wouldn't post identifying information about us.

Especially when I started blogging.

I HAVE posted a few pics of our guys, but only after they turned 18, and only with their permission. I suppose if someone was totally intent on stalking us, they would have a bit of luck if they went back quite a few years to gather info.

What I DON'T get is people who post a bunch of pictures on their Facebook page or blog of OTHER people who aren't their personal family members and include identifying information without asking permission.

This has happened to us twice.

One was a BBQ we held for a certain function. One of our grills is on our front deck, and the person took a picture that happened to include our house number in the background and then proceeded to name everyone in the picture with a "this was taken at Mr. Attila's house in the beautiful blah blah development" on his blog.

More recently, another friend posted a bunch of candid pictures on his Facebook page which included us and named us by name.

I just happened to run across them, because neither Hubby or I really do the Facebook thing. I have an account simply because I get a lot of invites and I don't want to be an asshat and decline them. LOL

Yes, only invited people are allowed to view the friend's pictures. But I really don't appreciate being posted there without my permission, and neither does Hubby.

I wrote a nice email asking our friend to take them down. He got quite pissy about it.

So what's the netiquette (sp) about this?

Anybody know?

Adventures at Wal-Mart

First, let me say, I'm not a snob. I shop at Wal-Mart. Please don't leave comments about how the store has forced out Mom and Pop stores across the country, and all of their other transgressions, etc, et al. I know this. But like many, we've had a tough couple of years economically and my job is to see how we can cut corners and spend as little as possible.

Up in our little mountain burg, we got a Wal-Mart a few years ago. Although many in our town fought it, Wally World had the law on their side, but made concessions so that their building a center wouldn't be tied up for years in court from all the small businesses up here that they would undercut.

Among the concessions? No eye center or pharmacy. Building a store here relieved the store at the bottom of the mountain as the citizens of all the mountain communities would drive down there and it was just a big mess.

Today Big Kid and I had appointments at the Wal-Mart down at the bottom of the mountain to get new glasses and contacts. We couldn't get back to back appointments, so after I had mine and he was waiting for his, I went and sat on a bench outside the eye center (inside the store) to watch the world go by.

Oh golly. The bench was situated right next to one of the entrances.

Do you remember back in the 70's when they had track shorts and roller disco shorts that were one color with a contrasting piping? Like the one pictured above?

This enormous woman who had an enormous ass walked in the store wearing a pair of those shorts.

It's Colorado. In February. We just had a big snowstorm the day before. It was freaking cold.

Before you accuse me of being elitist, let me remind you that I myself am a member of the big butt club. I'm entitled to comment. But if I had a pencil in my purse, I would have poked my own eyes out.

Every step this woman took was like a sack of puppies trying to escape out of each cheek hole. WTF?

It was close to this picture, but add 70 pounds. Gah!


When I got home I made Hubby swear on a stack of bibles that he would hit me over the head with something really heavy and hard if I ever tried to walk out of the house wearing something even remotely as offensive.

Why? Why? Can anyone answer me that?

Sometimes You Just Gotta Say...

During the worst of the H1N1, when Big Kid was in the ICU, Hubby and I came up close and personal with the importance of hand washing.

Like everybody else, we'd been taught and practiced washing our hands after going to the bathroom, before eating, etc.

While our son was in the unit, we'd have to wash, glove up and mask before entering his room, and then drop the gloves and the mask at the door upon exiting and go straight to the sink and wash again before leaving. And since there wasn't a bathroom in his room and we had to go out of the unit to the public bathroom, we were doing this like 10 times a day. gah.

Recently I've seen a few commercials for a hands-free soap pump for home use, brought to us by a major soap company. All you have to do is wave your hand in front of it, and it will dispense whatever soap you have stuck in there.

I can think of a lot of uses for this.

Like when you've got a baby in one arm and need to clean up cookie snot or formula blow-back. Or you're doing the dishes and your mom calls, and you're trying to talk to her while scrubbing and don't have a third arm.

What I can't figure out is how the idiot who came up with the current marketing campaign still has a job, or whoever greenlighted it as a good idea is still earning a paycheck too.

They are marketing it as a good way to avoid a germy soap pump handle in your home.

Um like, once you touch the handle to pump soap on your hands, you aren't immediately going to WASH your hands?

Dude, WTF?

What's in a Name?

This has been a really busy two weeks! Had to get activities set up for Little Guy for the semester (he's going to work two days a week and go to class 3 days), get Big Kid to appointments, and get The Happening Dude to his driver's test. The only DMV that does that is over an hour drive away.

Which comes to the name thing. This has been a major pain-in-the-pooper.

For those who haven't been around my blog for a long time, The Happening Dude is really our nephew. You can read about how he came to be with us here.

My brother and his wife adopted THD and his sister out of foster care. And then promptly divorced and she moved to another state. She rapidly remarried and then started working on all 4 of their kids.

My brother's last name (and my maiden name) is ordinary enough. However, if you deliberately mispronounce it, it's a word that basically means hard-on.

Ex knew that my brother would never allow her new husband to adopt all 4 of his kids, so she started making fun of their last name. She made them ashamed of it, and then suggested they get my brother to allow them to change their name to her current name. They called and harangued him ("kids are making fun of me!" "I want the same name as Mommy!") and eventually wore him down. He agreed to it. Dumbass.

The problem is that Ex never notified the state where THD was adopted and from which she was receiving foster/adopt benefits of the change. So in their system, THD and his sister were still listed as Hard-On and not Smith.

When she and her new hubby divorced, she moved back to her home state, and within a year put THD back in to foster care. After a couple of years, when she had no intention of reunifying, we were fortunate to get him.

Except the kid has been in name limbo. Legally, his name is Smith. All of his official documents say differently. We used them to get his driver's permit, but knew that we'd have to get it all straightened out. Although my brother granted us custody of THD (after ex relinquished control), he is not an on-the-ball person and never managed to track us down a copy of the name change, and I didn't have the legal authority to request it. We all decided to wait until THD turned 18 (a few weeks ago) to do anything about it.

Shortly before his birthday, he emailed his mom. It was the first communication he'd had with her in a few years. He politely asked if she had a copy of the order of the name change and if he could have one.

Her response?

"I have a certified copy, but I'm saving it for your sister. You'll have to get your own. Good luck to you."

WTF? Hubby and I suggested he write back to her and ask if she could just fax a COPY of the order so we could get the case number and court it was issued in. He did. She never responded.

Fortunately, tracking down the paperwork was easier than we thought.

Now convincing the DMV of this preposterous story was another issue. Gah! But it all worked out.

While we were driving home, THD casually mentioned that he wanted to change his name again. He'd already spoken to Hubby and wanted to change his name to ours.

I almost drove off the road.

He explained his reasoning. He didn't want to carry the name of the man who was briefly married to his adopted mother. He had an aversion to the "Hard-on" name, and his adopted dad had only "sort of" parented him for a few of his 18 years. He had no affinity for his birth family and didn't want to go back to his original name. He wanted to be a part of our family, if only by a name.

Bless his heart. After all those years of being shuffled around and in and out of care, he wants to be identified as one of our clan.

I reassured him that no matter what, this is his home. We are his peeps. There's a lot of things for him to think long and hard about, but as a young guy, he has a lot of time, and we'll support any decision he makes.

One thing he is sure about is that he wants to legally sever all ties with his adopted mom. After our scare with Big Kid, where I had to make all the medical decisions for him when he couldn't make them for himself as next-of-kin, THD is afraid to relinquish any of that authority to her (thinks she'd tell them to pull the plug).

Oy.

Lots to think about.