Puke Factory

Oh my. Yesterday evening, I felt a bit queasy and a wee bit dizzy, but completely ignored it. Must be something, because today, Little Man's (age 8 1/2) school called saying he was throwing up. Off I went to go pick him up, he threw up two more times before we got to the car. Thank goodness he did ok in the car and we live just a few blocks from school. I know you are not familiar with our family members yet, so here is a quick run down:
Me: Jo, mom, age 44 (for five more days!)
dh: Bald man, age 48
(we have been married 25 years)
Pgymy child: daughter, age 24
The Princess: daughter, age 23
Her Pea: grand daugher, age 7 months, known by a horde of nicknames, including Miss Busy, Cuteness in Motion etc. Pea belongs to the Princess of course.
Oldest Son: age 21
Girlfriend: age 20
Middle Son: age 18
JJ: son, age 16
Little man, age 8 1/2

Little man came to us by way of the foster care system, then adopted by our whole family. He is loved and cherished. He is also a heck of a lot of work.
Due to some things, a birth mother who was a heroin addict and a rare genetic condition, Little Man's IQ hovers just above 50. I guess you need a higher IQ to throw up in a bowl. Hence, the title of today's post: The Puke Factory. Mostly it is involving me, (still not feeling too hot) stripping things that have been thrown up on, and starting a new load of laundry. Also deciding, hmmm, you know we have had this bed skirt for a long time, I don't think it is going to survive being washed, into the the trash you go, with the added benefit of not having to wash it.
In between throwing stuff in the wash, and moving stuff to the dryer, I heard my computer and new blog, cooing to me... Joooo, jjjjjjoooooo, come post, come update me, come check on your favorite bloggy friends. So I did. Bad Mom!
On top of that, because of his genetic syndrome and some of the medication he takes, getting dehydrated for him is actually life threatening. So I am doing my Mommy Hawk imitation. One beady black eye watches him, hop over to another part of the nest, move a few twigs, other beady black eye looks over at him, hop, you get the picture. I need to keep an eye on him in case we have to make a mad dash to our local children's hospital for some IV therapy. Sound like fun? Anyone want to trade??
But now, Little Man is saying, Mommmm, where are you??? So off I go to man my post at the Puke Factory assembly line.
Open mouth, puke, pick it up, throw it out or put it in the wash, rinse, repeat. Where is the Febreeze?

The Meaning of Utah

Since you all, (all four of you as far as I can tell!) were so kind, I feel encouraged, so I am taking the plunge and trying another post. Hopefully, like sex, it will become more fun and I will get better at it as I go along.
First, I live in Utah. Now for some of you, that might mean nothing, yet, but for others, this simple phrase is fraught with deeper meanings and musings.
I was not born here, I am not "from" Utah, I live here. My dh and I moved here with our five kids, (we added one 8 1/2 years ago) because housing prices were cheap, compared to Cali, where it was outrageous! We were quickly outgrowing our 1000 sq foot home and needed more room. We were warned, our California friends kept telling us that Utah was full of those "Utah Mormons" who were on the verge of not being "real" Mormons. A "real" Mormon is a good one, an obedient one. (I consider myself a fairly good Mormon, although I have been told that I am less than obedient!)
We moved to Utah anyway. And found, even though we are Mormon, we do not fit into the Utah culture. The problem with the culture in Utah is the people who live here, Mormon or not, think the church is the culture. Those of us who have lived and practiced Mormonism elsewhere will tell you, the culture in Utah is very strange. My girls were told in church their eternal destiny was to become a wife and mother. I went marching over to the young womens leader's house and had a long chat with her about what is an earthly job is, and that if my girls NEVER got married or became mothers, their eternal destiny was not in jeopardy and I would never be disappointed. I am not having my girls sitting around waiting for Prince Mormon Charming to come find them, set them up with eight kids and all live happily ever after. REALLY! Humph!
We are liberals, and let me tell you, finding democrats in Utah is as hard to find as fleas on a bald man's head! That is a whole 'nother post, being a democrat in Utah. They think Bush is a just next to a prophet in being close to God. Heaven help us all. No kidding, there was a prayer broadcast on TV sending some of the soldiers off, to do "God's Work"! I almost threw up. I just can not stretch my mind into thinking our presence in Iraq as being God directed.
And yes, there are polygamists in Utah. Doing what I did for 20 years, being a midwife, I came to know a whole bunch of them. They are not main stream Mormons, but a branch off, some are considered cults. Some are pretty nice, some are pretty repressive and I have heard some sad stories about girls who grew up in those houses, very scared and very sheltered. The best book I have read about it, was "In My Father's House" by Dorothy Allred Solomon. She left the polygamist life later, after being raised in it. (Yes I know her too!) I have met some of Tom Green's wives, for the any who are drooling about the whole thing, I know some Kingstons, Barlows and Ervil LeBaron's daughter lives up the street from me. I heard her tell someone once that she had been widowed. They then asked her how her husband died. She said a hunting accident. I about died inside, hunting accident?? Yeah, her husband was the prey! Ha.
Mormons are not allowed to drink regular tea or coffee, so the joke goes like this:
How do you tell the Mormons from the Non in Utah?
The temperature of their caffeine! Ha ha. hot for the gentiles, (yes, really, Utah is the only place where a Jew is a gentile) and cold, as in Pepsi for the Mormons. Really, really good Mormons don't drink caffeine drinks either. I used to be one of those, in my latter years of sleep deprivation, I have given up not drinking caffeine. My drug of choice. Mountain Dew or Dr. Pepper. Ambrosia of the Gods. I thought that killing my husband or my kids would be a bigger sin than drinking caffeine.
I figure I need to tackle the whole Mormon thing upfront before this blog goes on, so no one is surprised. I have lots of friends who are not Mormon and I didn't join the church until I was 18. No one else in my family is LDS either. I was actually raised Catholic, catholic school and all, (that is a whole nother blog, about the nuns!) Being an outspoken, liberal, brown, woman in Utah is not an easy path, but I feel that this is where I am supposed to be, so here I stay. (In the Church I mean, not Utah) If you have any questions, feel free to ask, I enjoy learning about new stuff myself.

Blog Virgin

Before the "first" time, you heard alot about it. Everyone was talking about it, for heaven's sakes, it was in all the magazines, all over the internet, in books, on TV and even movies. You wondered what it was like, would you like it as much as everyone said they did? What if you weren't any good at it, and everyone heard about it and all the other kids laughed at you when they found out? What if you were so bad at, no one would ever do it with you again and you ended up all alone, on the island of misfits? What if everyone else had some secret trick that you didn't know about that made them great, and you really awful? But, you took the plunge, you tried it, the first time was um... so-so, but you are willing to give it another shot. Ge gentle, this is my first time blogging!