An Interv iew with Aidan

My 8 year old son Aidan has asked to be interviewed in the major media outlet that is my blog.  Apparently he feels he has some project to plug, but alas, Letterman and Leno aren't interested and while Conan might have been an option, Aidan can't wait for his new show.  For the record, I am a pretty hard hitting interviewer.  So here goes...
Mom:  Hi, Aidan, why would you like to be interviewed today?
Aidan: Because it's cool.
Mom:  So what do you think about the situation in the Middle East?
Aidan: I have no idea what you are talking about. 
Mom: What would you do to fix the oil spill in the Gulf?
Aidan: Hey, that's the president's job, not mine.
Mom:  Would you still vote for President Obama?
Aidan: Yes.  His daughter is pretty.  And I have a mug.
Mom:  Do you think Lindsay Lohan should get out of jail early because of overcrowding?
Aidan: No, that's a bad thing.
Mom: What do you think of France's ban on the veil or Muslin Hijab?
Aidan: I have no idea what you are talking about.
Mom: What movie should we see today?  Ramona and Beezus or Despicable Me?
Aidan: I am not sure.  Selena Gomez is pretty, but she doesn't have minions.

This, my friends, is not an unusual conversation with any of my children. 

Well ya gotta have fri-EEEEEEENNNNNNDDDDDSSSSSS!!!!!

For those listening in my head, this sounds exactly like Bette Midler singing...

For reasons I still cannot legally disclose on the internet (don't I sound so interesting) I got some craptastic news yesterday.  And like most craptastic news, it involves money.  Most notably the lack of it.  And I was livid.
I immediately went to my online girlfriends and launched into a profane diatribe that used a word that starts with F and rhymes with duck.  A. Lot.
Do my girls shirk from this abuse?  Even the super sweet ones that I would desperately try not to cuss in front of?  Nope.  They join in with a string of curses that would make a gypsy grandmother proud!  Wishes for financial failure was for amateurs.  One wanted the evil doers shoved down a flight of stairs (remind me to stay on the good side of a certain librarian from Ohio).  My favorite though was a wish for an airplane to empty their chemical toilet over my persecutors house.  That ante was upped with a wish that the crumb bums be standing outside their house, looking up with their mouths open during said chemical toilet flushing. 
This is why I love my girls.  The indulge my righteous indignation and join in.  There was no calm, cool headed discussions of how to win legitimately.  I know how to do that.  My pals knew I needed to be pissed off, and were right there with me.  They knew I needed an outlet, not advice.  Plotting revenge has never been so damn sweet...
 And for those not so blessed with evilly minded friends...

Thoughts in Church

I m what my aunt calls a "cafeteria Catholic".  I take what I like and forget about what I don't.  I'm cool with that.  We found a great parish that goes along with our more modern interpretation of Catholicism and it works for us.
We attend Mass almost, well, religiously.  We go more Sundays than not, with all four kids in tow and I often have to remind my kids that God gives us 7 days a week, they can give back an hour or so.  We get to church on time, but we DO leave right after Communion.  But we do that for everyone else's comfort, not ours as that's about all the being quiet and still Aidan and Harry can handle before having a meltdown.  Seeing as our church usually has ten minutes of announcements at that point, it's worth it for everyone.
I try really hard not to be holier than thou about this stuff, but there are a few things that just bug the bejesus out of me. 
1) Why must people bring food to church?  Catholic Mass is only a little more than an hour.  Really?  Your kid can't go an HOUR, SIXTY PUNY MINUTES, without Goldfish crackers?  I'm not talking about tiny babies here, I'm talking 4 and 5 year olds.  I don't think they will blow away if you leave the Cheerios at home...
2) Hey lady who gets to church every week during the Homily and climbs over everyone else and lets her ten year olds play with PSPs during what's left of the Mass?  It's bad enough that you make a spectacle every week with all the commotion you cause finding seats and huffing and puffing that you can't sit together, but really, the kids can't leave the video games in the car?  If you were on time you'd have seats together.  And it's Mass.  Not the place to be playing Grand Theft Auto.
3) I don't think your kid is cute when the run up on the altar or kick my seat.  It makes MY kids think that's acceptable, and it's not.
4) And finally, dude sitting behind me yesterday?  Don't tell your 9 year old to "pay attention" and then have  full conversation with your teenager about ipod downloads during the readings.  At full conversation volume.  At the very least, pretend to whisper.  Your kid isn't going to pay any more attention that you were.
Boy, I feel better.  Probably going to get smote by lightening, though.

Sneaking Out on a Date With Myself

Ok, I know I just complained a couple of weeks ago that I had no one to go get coffee with.  But truth be told, I am a person who needs their solitude.  Hey, Superman got a whole FORTRESS of Solitude.  I personally would decorate it a little better, warm it up with some throw pillows or something, but on the whole, I could use one.
This evening though, we found ourselves pretty much out of toilet paper.  How we ran out of toilet paper, I don't know since I do buy it in large quantities, but it provided me with a lovely opportunity.
I "volunteered" to walk to the local CVS to buy a roll to get us through until we do the big trip to Target this weekend.  See how selfless I am?  I came home from work and walked in the Chicago July heat for TP. 
Yeah, I totally snuck into Barnes and Nobles while I was blissfully alone with my thoughts. I literally only had the money with me for the necessity of my errand, so I was truly browsing.  Good thing I was broke, too, or I would have been the proud owner of the James Taylor/Carol King CD they were playing . 
I would like to argue that I wasn't really all that alone.  I have met some of my best friends in bookstores.  Holden Caulfield, Scarlett O'Hara, Jo March and you too Sookie Stackhouse.  That's part of the beauty of being alone, no one judges your reading material. 
I even browsed the Children's section and looked at the new editions of the Ramona books and Fancy Nancy.  My own daughter has no interest in the books I loved, declaring Ramona "too long" and Little House on the Prairie "boring".  I am actively hiding Little Women and Anne of Green Gables from her.  She will positively kill me if she doesn't love those.
I probably stayed out a little too long.  But I came back reacquainted with myself.  And with a shopping list for my next book run..


And, just a little business.  You guessed it.  I monetized my blog.  But I promise not to put anything on here  I wouldn't buy for myself or someone I love.  I'm a big old sellout.

Back to work

Next Tuesday, my summer of leisure will end.  I was hired in my field to do AR management for Neurosurgery.  Makes me sound smart, huh?  What I actually do for a living is call various insurance companies, ask when they intend to pay for services and enforce the physician's contractual relationship with your insurance plan.
I have to say, it's pretty damn thankless work.  When an insurance company refuses to pay for service, they generally tell their customers that the doctor must have billed it wrong.  Then the patient calls and yells at me, usually using the term "YOU PEOPLE", to school me on what we did wrong.  Except 90% of the time, we aren't wrong.  They had a service their insurance company doesn't cover and doesn't have the balls to take responsibility for not covering. 
I can't change a code unless the medical record dictates it is appropriate and the physician tells me it's OK.  I cannot change a tax ID number to one that is in network with your plan.  I can't change a date of service to one that gets your service covered.  These requests are all fraud, and I don't look cute in an orange jumpsuit.
What always gets me is that no one ever thinks to yell at their insurance company for taking their monthly premiums and then not giving them what they are paying for.  The assumption is that since you pay the insurance company, their answer is worth more than my answer, which you are not paying for.  Trust me folks, you doctor is much more interested in your well being than any insurance company.  Your insurance company is a for profit industry.  They make their money by NOT paying out your claims.  So they take your money, hoping to never provide you with a service.  Your physician provides you with a service and then requests payment. 
And really, please, do not argue with me about how much your doctor charges for his or her service.  you don't question your hairdresser or mechanic about how much they charge.  Isn't your health worth more to you?  I know mine is.  If you feel you need to negotiate, do so with the doctor BEFORE you get a bill. 
Sorry about the work rant post.  Now the question is, am I sure I really want to go back to this?

You're OUT! Right?

My 8 year old, Aidan has ADHD and we have just decided to put him back on medication for it.  We had tried it when he was six, and didn't like it.  He lost a lot of weight, seemed kind of stoned all the time and built up a tolerance for it pretty quickly.  So we went au naturel, and were trying to set routines, cut processed foods and other chemicals, all that crunchy granola stuff.
For the past 3 summers, Aidan has "played" baseball.  OK, he put on a baseball uniform and sat and played in the dirt and waited almost patiently for his turn to hit.  But since we started this new medication, he has been actually PLAYING baseball.  He's gotten some good hits, and scored a couple of times.  He's still not too great at fielding though, mostly because his coach keeps letting play in close proximity to his best pal on the team.  To best explain this as a problem, you should understand that the boys great each other with the word "SHENANIGANS!" every time they see each other.
Tuesday was their last game, and finally Coach Bill got the idea to separate the Shenanigans and put Aidan on second base.  His other half was catcher.  There is a runner on first, 2 outs.  The next batter hits directly to my boy, who catches the ball, steps on the base and then tags the runner.  It's hard to tell who was most surprised when the ump called the out; Coach Bill, me or Aidan himself.  This has never happened before with Aidan.
Of course, he is now insufferable.  He wants more baseball and tells anyone who will listen for 2 minutes about his heroic play on second.  He has berated me for this being the ONE game I did not have a camera in my purse.  Daddy has heard about it too, as he missed the play by 15 minutes.  Looks like we are playing again next season after all.  And, it turns out, the other Shenanigan is moving to Arizona.  That should be enough distance...