Saturday, January 28, 2012

You can't go to college 'cause we spent in on vacation

Alaska here we come!

10 nights including tour to Denali and Mt. McKinley. The kids can just get loans for college, right? Right? More details to come....

Friday, January 20, 2012

fun fun fun

Hello Mister Blog, where have you been?

My poor crooked kid apparently got more crooked over the last four months, to the tune of a 30 degree thorocolumbar curve. My baby's been apparently growing quite a bit. Unfortunately she's growing DIAGONALLY.

Hmmm, says the orthopedist looking at the X ray and marking all over it with rules and protractors, it's time we consider bracing her back so it won't curve any further.

Now, the first thing I think of when I hear scoliosis bracing is this god-awful contraption:

And do you know, they still make and use this!
Did we not all know one girl in high school who had one of these? Now I know exactly what her mother must have felt. That thing is dreadful. There's no two ways about it. Any thankfully, THANKFULLY, this is not the type of brace I was told Catherine needs.

She'll wear what's called an underarm, or Boston Brace. It looks like this:


Bye bye $2500 family medical deductible

She looks thrilled, no?
I'm told it is worn under clothes and on top of a seamless cotton undershirt, kind of like a stretchy camisole that is long enough to go all the way down to your hips. The camisole keeps that molded plastic bad-boy from rubbing and helps keep you cool. I predict we are going to be spending a lot of time indoors in the A/C this summer. Nothing is more miserable than being encased in a plastic shell in the heat.

We had our appointment on the 16th to visit the the orthodist for the fitting. Catherine forbid me from taking any photos so I only got one shot of the contraption you have to suspend yourself from while they wrap you in a fiberglass cast. Two guys literally shoved her spine straight while the cast hardened, then they cut it off and told us to come back in three weeks to pick it up. Then we went and got pizza. Just a normal day in the Gilbert life.

This gymnastics contraption is called a Risser table.
Then Catherine confiscated my camera.

The kids got into their swanky summer camp this week, the one that is going to set me back a cool 5 figures and better send them home as new best buds with someone whose dad owns their own freaking jet. Unlike jet dad, I am trying to get my kids clothes second hand for camp (yes, they wear uniform shirts). My first attempt resulted in a friendly mom sending me a lot for free, but I had to toss most of them because they were completely trashed. Apparently the rich kids all play with bleach there.



This weekend violin boy is making a swiss cheese car for the Pinewood derby. That translates into mommy and daddy learning to use power tools while violin boy plays Minecraft upstairs. That's just how we roll here.


Last night I took Catherine to visit the high school to learn about the clubs and activities they offer. After showing the obligatory high school video montage created I swear solely for the purpose of making mothers weep in front of their "babies," we were herded into the gym to meet and great all the clubs.

Now, I am always a sucker for the tables that no one ever visits. Math team. The gay lesbian alliance. Something called SNAP where even the people manning the table seemed to have given up hope and left. I made Catherine visit every one, dragging her along with such embarrassing parental enthusiasm that at one point she turned and asked me what narcotic I was taking. 

Then we hit the color guard, which hearkened me back to the good old days of marching band. It was pretty clear Catherine wasn't buying into my desire to relive my high school years vicariously through her.  After I spent nearly ten minutes chatting with them about winter guard, a clearly fed up Catherine exclaimed *I* should sign up, and marched off to visit the drama club.

That's me in the center rocking the polyester spangled outfit.
 I think I might do it. I've still got it. I do.

After the clubs we headed over to gym #2 to visit the sports teams. Let's see, four foot ten and 90 pounds. Basketball? No. Volleyball? No. She signed up for tennis at which point I explained that you had to actually know HOW to play tennis to be on the tennis team. Bummer.

Having exhausted every possible sport, by the end of the evening we found ourselves standing in front of boys wrestling team and I shouted "Catherine this is one you can do! You're small and wriggly. They can't discriminate!" Sensing I'd lost my complete mind, she darted for the door.

She's fast! Maybe we should re-consider cross country.

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