i'm outta here

Sing along now...I'm leaving, on a jet plane....

I'm headed to Chicago for a girls weekend!!! I'm going with college friends. They hang around here sometimes...Rowan and Math Geek? We're staying with Rowan's brother, Siskbert (he visits here too), in his swanky Chi-Town pad. (I have no idea if it's swanky or qualifies as a "pad", but whatever.)

We're gonna party it up...40-something style...which means, not so much or we'll feel like crap in the morning. We'll shop and maybe museum and BEST OF ALL????? We're going to see "Wicked" Saturday night. Oooo. It will be wonderful.

But first? This morning I got to take Eldest in for x-rays. Yes. X-rays. I swear, that girl is nothing but a bundle of fun lately. It is a golf injury. Yup. That's what I said. Golf.

If you are using the clubs of someone else because you are confused about your practice schedule and that someone else is taller than you, be careful, you might be a tad off on your swing. You might be on the driving range and swing really, really hard and drive that club right into the ground...more technically, into cement, covered with fake grass. And that impact will send VERY painful reverberations up your arm. And cause your wrist bones to swell. And ice will not get the swelling down. And then the school's trainer will bench you until you get an x-ray.

But at least your x-ray will be negative for fracture.

But watch out, because then you might get pissed because it's negative and, after all, SOMETHING is wrong.

The fun of motherhood never ends.

And YES, something is wrong. Her wrist hurts. It's going to take some time (she's never any good at pain), but it will heal.

Her wrist isn't really the something that's wrong now, is it?

We, the adults, all know what is wrong. But she doesn't. Instead, all her wrath and anger is focused on ME. I banned communications with the jackass. I won't let her go the football game where he is going to be tonight. (She should go to the game for HER OWN high school, anyway.) Yup. Everything wrong in her life is her mother's fault.

Ok. I can live with that. I visited with her former therapist yesterday and he gave me a great new line..."You are entitled to feel as angry as you want. But your anger will not change my mind or my behavior."

And then, before I can get on the plane, I'm here at work, trying to get something DONE. Cuz with all the angst and injuries and other stuff going on I haven't even written about yet...I haven't exactly been productive this week. Ah well. Next week I'll have to kick some work butt. Next week. Because instead of being productive right now? I'm writing this.

The picture is Michigan Avenue in Chicago...ok, so it's not a "house"... whatever. You're too picky.