Mad Men Post Coming Tomorrow

Today’s post brought to you by migraines. I wouldn’t be posting at all today if it wasn’t for my incredible parents. My mother escorted my sunglass-wearing self to the doctor for emergency meds for the migraine I’m currently suffering that proved too much for Relpax to handle. Meanwhile, my father was here for my kids and managed after-school activities not to mention aided with devil dog. I should mention that my mother did a MAJOR stint with devil dog today as well. I hope you’re watching up there, God. These two should get some priority treatment. Momma, you are always here for me, and I owe you a special shout-out to thank you for being always always so good to me!

Thoughts on migraines:

  • If you are a medical professional and you have a patient on the table curled up in the fetal position with her jacket covering her face to block out all light? DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES recommend that she have a glass of wine to ease the pain of her migraine. You are a medical professional yet clearly do not understand a thing about migraines. Migraines are exacerbated by alcohol. This happened a couple of years ago, and I’m still amazed that I received that advice from a medical professional.
  • If you say you have a migraine and pop an Advil and go about your business, then mention that you are feeling relief? That was not a migraine. I sympathize with your pain because headaches suck, but migraines are day(s) killers. They are not something you endure while going about your day; they are beasts that alter your schedule requiring that you make plans to accommodate the pain.
  • A migraine episode makes you feel despair. Yes, that’s the proper word. The end of a migraine episode brings a period of manic happiness wherein you feel as if you’d like to kiss everyone you meet and make plans to spend a long weekend with each and every one of them.

My tips for riding out migraine pain:

  • NO BRIGHT LIGHTS. A dark room is paramount. Depending on the severity of the migraine, I may have to go full bore and put on a blindfold. 
  • NO STRONG SCENTS.
  • A cold or hot washcloth on your forehead is very helpful.
  • SLEEP is always helpful.
  • Sometimes I need complete quiet depending on the severity of the migraine.
  • Maintain a comfortable body temperature.
  • ‘Gilmore Girls’ on infinite loop. That show is my go to for migraine pain. I may have to watch it with a blindfold on if the migraine is that severe, but I know every episode by heart so that’s not an issue.
  • Keep the electronic device engagement to an absolute minimum. If you need to work, keep that cold or hot washcloth on your head and it should help.

Happy Mother’s Day!

I hope all the mothers out there are having a spectacular day! I’m doing what I know my mother did on many of hers. Refereeing battles between my two kids. Good times. This is WAY OVERDUE, but I’m sorry we did that to you, Momma! And I love you! HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!

Anna marched her little self downstairs this morning, made me breakfast and brought me breakfast in bed. That child of mine exceeded all my expectations (and my own performance as a child I suspect) without any prompting. It was wheat chex and milk and, despite my stupid lactose-intolerant digestive system, I ate every delicious bite. We had a wonderful chat while I read the fantastic card she made me. My day was made at 7:15 this morning.

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Nothing says Easter like competition!

We celebrated Easter at my parent’s home. We began the festivities with a wonderful meal prepared by my mother. As is typical with meals my mother prepares, during it we were subjected to comments from her about how everything tasted merely ok or fell short somehow. And we all finished the bites we were chewing with pleasure and said, “What are you talking about? This is fantastic.” Or, “I love these collards! What’s the recipe?” Or, “The meat is so tender and flavorful. How long did you cook it?” Eventually, we just mumbled something affirmative or remained silent so as to continue shoveling the delicious food into our mouths. If we are pressed, we might be able to find only one fault with my mother’s cooking. Sometimes the food is not steaming hot by the time we eat it, though it is when it’s served. We must be entertaining for Matthew (who doesn’t share this aberration) to observe as we mill about uselessly when the food is laid out buffet-style ready to be served. We stand around expectantly but nobody fills their plates. Eventually my mother looks around at us as she is putting the finishing touches on gravy or some other condiment and says exasperatedly, “Fix your plates,” and we finally jump to action. So, yeah, the food might lose a bit of heat during that interminable time when we stand around like a bunch of fools chattering to each other.

We have an Easter tradition that involves racing items that typically rely less on skill for the win than they do on sheer happenstance. Prizes are awarded to race winners and a good time is had by all. Past racing items have included wind-up toys that make you want to cry as you determine after you have picked them in the blind selection system that they are reverse movers or move forward and then crush your soul with a last minute shift to the left/right. This year my parents decided to make the race a little more skill-based, so we raced remote-controlled cars with a trophy waiting at the finish line for the winner of the race. I had a bum car and, I can only assume, a devilish, teeny tiny little driver in there who overrode all my remote commands, so I didn’t place in the race. You may call me a lying liar, but those are the facts. My daughter had some luck with the car, but she was bested by her uncle because he is a cold-hearted man who couldn’t let his niece winMy dad had a slow and steady approach that was no match for my son’s blistering speeds. My mother did not get to participate in the practice heats, and I suspect that my devil driver snuck into her car to run her heat. As such, she was similarly unsuccessful. The race for the championship was between Greg and JT, and it was a hotly contested battle. Ultimately, my son won the race. He was a humble winner (HAH!) and enjoyed the trophy ceremony at which he thankfully did NOT make a speech.

We rounded out the day with a “friendly” ping pong tournament. The weather was fair (inside), the concessions were reasonably-priced (read: free) and delicious, and the fans were tolerable. I won’t mention that Matthew had left to go home and let out the pooch who was probably crossing her legs in the crate hoping desperately that someone would be home RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW I HAVE TO PEE. And I won’t mention that Matthew is possibly as good as my mother. I don’t know if we have established a clear winner between the two of them. I will say that we had a bunch of good ping pong players represented that day, and I managed to best two of ’em and was handily beaten by my mother in the final round. She’s got skilz.

All photos taken by my brother Greg. You can find his work at Bluegoo Studios.