Getting Help… An Update.

I had my appointment yesterday to have my annual pap smear and talk about my symptoms of depression. The woman I saw is an ex-midwife, and while she no longer delivers babies she still deals with women’s health in all sorts of different ways. I’ve always been to big offices with lots of nurses and doctors scurrying to and fro, so being in a smaller office with only two staff members was very different.

I met with B, and we started talking. She asked me a lot of run-of-the-mill questions (are you allergic to any drugs? Do you smoke? Do you use your seatbelt?) and I answered them. She caught me off-guard when she suddenly asked, “Do you go to church?”
“Well, no..” I replied. This question always makes me uncomfortable.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Well.. We’re not exactly Christians.”

I expected a lecture, or a judgmental glance while she scribbled something on a piece of paper but she didn’t skip a beat. “That doesn’t matter,” she said. “There are lots of different churches for people of all sort of different faiths. I believe it’s important to nurture your spiritual side and to have that community and family. You keep looking; you’ll find a place for you.”

I left it at that and didn’t push the issue, but Josh and I haven’t really ever been ones to seek a “spiritual community” because we do have very alternative beliefs. The closest I’ve ever come is a Unitarian Universalist Church and even that’s too organized for me. We’re just not big fans of organized religion. Anyway..

She asked me more questions.. About how I came to be in Chattanooga, about my family, about my relationship with my parents and brother. She took a lot of time to ask and listen to my questions, and I appreciated it. I never felt rushed or hurried like I have at other OB/GYN offices before (and that is not me saying that OBs are evil, I liked my last one just fine). She gave me a “depression self-assessment” and had me fill it out. When I was done, she explained to me that it was in no way a diagnosis, but based on the answers I’d circled it was a safe assumption that I had moderate symptoms of depression. She wrote me a prescription for a very low dose of Zoloft, and said to call her in three weeks if I didn’t notice a difference and we’d talk about where to go from there.

My exam was a pretty normal, uneventful yearly exam. She did tell me afterward, however, something that surprised the hell out of me. I had mentioned that during ovulation, I sometimes felt pain and discomfort on my left side. Not every month, usually every other to every two months. And only on my left side. I have had at least one ovarian cyst that I knew of in the past (when I was pregnant with Nellie, in fact) but have suspected that I’ve had them before. I actually suspect that I’ve had one rupture in the past. She told me that my left ovary felt firmer than my other one, and that I shared some characteristics with patients she’d seen before with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS). She said that she was in no way making a diagnosis of PCOS, and wasn’t even concerned enough to investigate it further unless the pain I felt around ovulation was hindering my enjoyment of life (it’s not). But she said that some of the hair around my pubic area is darker than usual, and the way I carry my weight is reminiscent of many women she’s seen with PCOS. I was really surprised, and asked her if that could be why it took us almost a year to get pregnant with Nellie. She said yes, and said that it could have also been a reason we miscarried. She said that it was possible that the ovary had produced a bad egg that could cause a miscarriage.

When all of that was over, I told her that I was interested in beginning counseling/therapy and asked if she had anyone she’d recommend. She gave me the names of two people she refers her patients to, one of whom I am a little hesitant to see because she is a Christian faith-based counselor. However, she is also very cheap. I am really, really not interested in Christian based counseling, because I am not a Christian and don’t ever plan on becoming one. I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet.

Overall, I’m happy with my visit. I’ve got my new medication and am hoping that it can help take some of the anxiety and depression edge off. I know that medication is not a cure-all, and that I need to begin to see a therapist. I have a lot of issues to work out in regards to my past, and I feel like maybe I’m ready to finally start doing so. The thought of facing down old and ugly demons scares me, I’m going to be completely honest. I’ve built up a pretty good wall around those emotions the past 13 years or so of my life, and I know that when I start to chip away at those walls it’s going to be hard. But I need to. I need to be the best person that I can possibly be for my daughter.

Thanks for reading, and thank you for all of the great support from my last post. It means more to me than you guys know.

 

Getting Help.

A few months ago, I blogged about my recurring issues with anxiety. I got a lot of really positive feedback and comments with people coming forward and telling me the way I was feeling was very familiar; that they, too suffered from anxiety issues. I had the support, but I didn’t really know where to begin in getting help and I guess I was still a little nervous and half-convinced that it’d go away on its own.

As had happened in the past, it did go away… For a while. I was feeling better, getting exercise and in a generally happy mood. Then, without any real trigger or warning it came back. I’d begin to feel anxious. Withdrawn. I didn’t feel like going to chorus. I’d make excuses to myself why I didn’t need to go. I didn’t feel like blogging (but I did), or playing, or doing much of anything. Little things started to feel overwhelming to the point where I’d be in tears thinking about them. Things are tight for us financially right now, but that’s nothing new. We’ve been back and forth with doing well and not doing well for nearly four years now, but in the past few days when I’d look at our checkbook and realize that even with Josh working insane overtime hours we were still barely making ends meet, I began to feel so upset and overwhelmed that I could barely breathe. In the past, I was able to greet our financial hardships with a sunny attitude of, “It’ll get better. Things can only get better. We will make it through this rough patch.” But this time, all I could see was endless work with little payoff and I felt desperately hopeless.

Thinking about all of the things I had to do at work felt like a mountain that was impossible to climb. Thinking about dishes to wash, laundry to fold, a baby to bathe and feed and entertain and other responsibilities that are just day-to-day began to make me feel unhappy and depressed. I finally realized that I was tired of waiting for it to get better, because it’s not going to without some kind of outside help. I began to think about the past few months and how I’ve been feeling like my life is being lived through a filter. My happiness, my joy, my enthusiasm has been muffled to me. My smiles are forced more often than not. I have not been myself, but I’ve been powerless to change it. It’s like someone’s taken control of my body and is living my life for me. Sometimes I can fake it and be convincing and other times, the act is probably very thin and obvious. I’ve been short and snappy with my husband, getting angry and frustrated at every little thing he does or says. And my sex drive? It’s non-existent.

I finally took a step today to getting the help I’ve been putting of for months. I don’t know if what I have is considered anxiety, depression, postpartum, or a combination. I don’t even know if 17 months after having a child it can be considered postpartum depression anymore. All I know is that I’m not myself, haven’t been for a while, and I’m tired of this apathetic impostor controlling me. Tomorrow I have an appointment with a woman – an ex-midwife – many of my friends see. When I called to make the appointment, I mentioned that I was due for an annual pap smear but I also needed to talk to someone about the possibility of having postpartum depression. The woman on the line sounded sympathetic and understanding. She didn’t tell me I was calling the wrong place and she didn’t talk to me like I was crazy, which are both things I guess I was afraid of.

I’ll keep you all posted as to how the appointment goes tomorrow. I feel hopeful for what tomorrow will bring. The doctor may not be able to give me all the help I need, but hopefully she can give me a start and point me in the right direction.

 

Laughter is the Spark of the Soul.

Extended Rear-Facing: The Safest Choice

Disclaimer:
This post is about extended rear-facing, why we currently practice it with our daughter and why we will continue to practice it as long as we can. This post is not meant to hurt any feelings, to imply that people who do not practice ERF are bad parents or stupid in any way. The point of this post is to voice my opinion, and educate people who may not have heard the facts and benefits of Extended Rear-Facing before.

Nellie is 17 months old, and is still rear-facing in her convertible car seat. Why? Because it’s the safest way for her to ride. Yes, still. Up until recently, the AAP (American Academy of Pediatrics) recommended that children stay rear-facing until they reached one year and twenty pounds which is consistent with the child restraint laws in the state of Tennessee (to see what the laws are in your state, go here). This year, the AAP changed their recommendations to say that rear-facing until either the age of two, or the height and weight limits for rear-facing carseats had been reached was the safest way for children to ride in a vehicle.

The law says one thing, and the AAP says another. How do you make a decision on what is best and safest for your child? You read the facts. It can be difficult and confusing when so many people give you so many different opinions. My mother-in-law took her convertible car seat to be professionally installed at a local police station and when she went, the officer tried to convince her that it needed to be installed forward-facing since Nellie met the age and weight requirement of the state. She respected my wishes and had him install the seat rear-facing and when she told me what he had said, all I could do was shake my head. It’s alarming how many misconceptions there are about car seat safety. In my opinion, there is no question that extended rear-facing is the safest thing for my daughter. I plan on keeping her turned backward until she reaches the weight limit for her car seat (40 pounds).

So what made me so adamant about extended rear-facing? What made my decision so simple, and so easy? I did my research, read some articles and watched a lot of videos. When talking to other parents about ERF, I’ve encountered many supporters but some skeptics. People have a lot of questions and opinions.

The law says I only have to rear-face until one year and twenty pounds. That AAP thing is just a suggestion. You’re right, it is just a suggestion. A suggestion based on a lot of research. How old is that car seat law that we’re abiding by? Does it get modified each year, or has it been in place for a long time?

Well, I didn’t even have a car seat when I was a child. I just rode in the backseat without any kind of restraint and I’m fine. You’re also lucky. Car seats were invented for a reason and they have saved many, many lives. Just because your parents did something one way doesn’t mean that it was the safest way. As humans, we are constantly learning and evolving in the way we do things. As time goes by, we find ways to be safer than the generation before us. My mother was allowed to play with mercury and she turned out (relatively) okay. Does that mean that I should let Nellie sit down and play with a handful of mercury? No. No it doesn’t.

My child looks uncomfortable. S/he has to bend their legs and I’m afraid if we get in a crash, it will break them. If all your child knows is rear-facing, then sitting cross-legged isn’t going to bother them. It’s not uncomfortable; children sit that way all the time without complaint. As for the risk of their legs being broken, the way I see it is this: I would rather have to deal with a broken leg or even two than have my child internally decapitated or have spine/brain damage due to a car crash.

My child won’t stop screaming while rear-facing, and it’s a distraction when I’m driving. I sympathize with this. Nellie has just begun to fuss in the car, and I think it probably is because she’s getting bored and tired of not being able to see. With this, I’ve had to implement a little bit of distraction techniques paired with tough love. I make sure she has books and toys to play with and if she still whines and screams, I try my best to tune her out. She’s just going to have to fuss, because I’d rather her be upset than severely injured in the event of serious accident.

What if she chokes? You can’t see her if she is choking. I don’t give Nellie anything to eat unless someone is riding in the back with her. I don’t let her play with things that are a choking hazard (obviously). So if there is nothing for her to choke on, that’s not really an issue.

So why is extended rear-facing so important anyway? There is a website which states it better than I possibly could, so I’m going to quote them for this answer: “When a child is in a forward-facing seat, there is tremendous stress put on the child’s neck, which must hold the large head back. The mass of the head of a small child is about 25% of the body mass whereas the mass of the adult head is only 6%!  A small child’s neck sustains massive amounts of force in a crash.  The body is held back by the straps while the head is thrown forward – stressing, stretching or even breaking the spinal cord.  The child’s head is at greater risk in a forward-facing seat as well.  In a crash, the head is thrown outside the confines of the seat and can make dangerous contact with other occupants, vehicle structures, and even intruding objects, like trees or other vehicles.

Rear-facing seats do a phenomenal job of protecting children because there is little or no force applied to the head, neck and spine.  When a child is in a rear-facing seat, the head, neck and spine are all kept fully aligned and the child is allowed to “ride down” the crash while the back of the child restraint absorbs the bulk of the crash force. The head is contained within the restraint, and the child is much less likely to come into contact with anything that might cause head injury. ” — Source: CPSsafety.com

For me, visually seeing the difference in what happens to a child’s body when they’re involved in a crash while rear-facing versus forward-facing was all the evidence I needed. Reading about it is one thing but seeing it is another. Below is a video that simulates what happens in the event of a crash. It doesn’t involve a real child but be aware, it is still somewhat disturbing to watch.

I was planning on practicing extended rear-facing before seeing that video but after I watched it, I knew with 100% certainty that we would ERF. The thought of my baby’s body being thrown forward like the forward-facing child made me sick to my stomach.

If you would like to read more facts about extended rear-facing and why it’s the safest method of travel for children still within the rear-facing weight limits of their car seat, here are a few of my favorite links:

This website has great visual “do’s and “dont’s” when it comes to other common mistakes parents make with car seats, such as dressing their children in bulky coats, having the chest clip positioned incorrectly, and not having the shoulder straps down low enough.

I feel strongly about keeping Nellie rear-facing as long as I can. I am not one to argue a person’s choices or methods of parenting. Breastfeed or formula feed, cloth diapers or Huggies, TV or no TV… I really could not care less about which of those people choose to practice as a parent but when it comes to the safety of children in a car, I want to educate as many people as possible because I believe it’s still an issue of old habits and misinformation.

Do you practice extended rear-facing? If not, why?


When a child is in a forward-facing seat, there is tremendous stress put on the child’s neck, which must hold the large head back. The mass of the head of a small child is about 25% of the body mass whereas the mass of the adult head is only 6%!  A small child’s neck sustains massive amounts of force in a crash.  The body is held back by the straps while the head is thrown forward – stressing, stretching or even breaking the spinal cord.  The child’s head is at greater risk in a forward-facing seat as well.  In a crash, the head is thrown outside the confines of the seat and can make dangerous contact with other occupants, vehicle structures, and even intruding objects, like trees or other vehicles.

Rear-facing seats do a phenomenal job of protecting children because there is little or no force applied to the head, neck and spine.  When a child is in a rear-facing seat, the head, neck and spine are all kept fully aligned and the child is allowed to “ride down” the crash while the back of the child restraint absorbs the bulk of the crash force. The head is contained within the restraint, and the child is much less likely to come into contact with anything that might cause head injury.

Boosit and Buhseek.

Nellie’s vocabulary grows each and every day. A few weeks ago, she was toddling around the apartment being adorable when she exclaimed,

“Boosit!”

*record scratch*

Josh and I whipped our heads around to look at one another.
“Did she just say bullshit?” I asked.
Wide-eyed, Josh replied, “Sure did sound like it.”
“Boosit! Boosit! Boosit!” Nellie chirped happily while trotting behind her little push-toy.
“Surely not,” I said uncertainly, eyeballing my curly-headed cussing child. “We hardly ever say that word.”
It’s true. We don’t. We say lots of other things we shouldn’t, but “bullshit” isn’t really in our vocabulary. Bullshit is kind of a boring and not cool swear word if you ask me. Some would argue that no swear words are cool, and to those people I say, “boosit.”

Anyway, after a little bit of debating, we decided that Nellie was trying to say “push it” because we’ve encouraged her so often to push her toy, to push a button, to push the door closed, etc.

The other day, my mother in law called me.
“You will never believe what Nellie said,” she began.
Gulp. A parade of profanity begun marching through my head, as each and every F-Bomb I’ve uttered in front of Nellie came back to haunt me. The possibilities of what she could have let loose in front of my mother in law were endless. Damnit. Shit. Fuck. Douchecanoe. Jackwagon. Balls. Republican (I kid, I kid! … Maybe. Not really.).

“What.. did she say?” I asked hesitantly.
“Well,” she began, “I was changing her diaper and when we were all done, her little buttcheek was hanging out of the back. So I said ‘Nellie! Your buttcheek’s stickin’ out!’ and then she yelled, ‘buttcheek! Buttcheek!'”

I began laughing hysterically, half because that’s actually really cute and half because I was relieved my daughter hadn’t said ‘asslicker’ in front of her Gran. When we went to pick her up that day from my mother in law, Josh and I prompted Nellie.

“Nellie. Nellie. ‘Buttcheek’.”
“Buhhhseek!” she yelled happily.

I about died laughing. So now my kid can say a lot of different words. Dog, cat, bear, ball, spoon, cheese, and buttcheek.

I’m a proud mama. A proud mama who needs to watch her mouth before my kid really does call someone a douchecanoe.

Father’s Day in Pictures

We had a cookout with my in-laws today and it was awesome. Nellie enjoyed lots of watermelon, the adults enjoyed steak and baked potatoes and we had a really good time. Unfortunately, earlier in the day Nellie has a little fall and it resulted in a bruise/red mark on her cheek. Enjoy photos from our Father’s Day!

It was a good day.

Texts From My Bestie

Okay, for one thing, I hate the term “bestie”, “bestest”, “biffles” (SERIOUSLY. WHERE THE SHIT DID “BIFFLES” COME FROM? ARE WE TEN YEARS OLD NOW? I’m going to start calling my best friend my Swiffle Wiffy Wuv Wuv Face. Let’s see how fast that catches on.) to describe a person’s best friend, but “Texts From My Bestie” is kind of catchy so I’m selling out and using it. MOVING ALONG.

My real-life best friend and I exchange a lot of text messages. She happens to have an Android, which auto-corrects like an iPhone. We have a lot of really interesting text messages thanks to this fun little feature of her phone. I’ve decided to begin posting regular exchanges between the two of us (with her blessing of course, but even if she didn’t give it I’d probably do it anyway because it’s funny). Here is a conversation between us from earlier this evening:

Me: Nellie has just started walking around on her tiptoes. Cutest ever.
Her: She is going to be a bacteria.
Me: ………………………………………………..
Her: …………Ballerina.

Later on in the evening….

Her: Is her temp down?

Oh, P.S. Nellie has had a fever all day today. Sorry. I should have mentioned that earlier in the post. I’m a terrible storyteller. I suck. She had a fever all day and I stayed home from work to take care of her. She was feeling better when we put her to bed.

Anyway.

Her: Is her temp down?
Me: A little. She’s in bed. It was 102 when she went to sleep.
Her: At least it hasn’t gone up. Maybe a hood night’s rest will help it go down.
Me: Roflmao. Your phone is ON tonight man.
Her: I hate you.

And then she said something else that I’m not going to share here, because I’m not sharing EVERYTHING with you people and I responded:

Me: Roflmnao
Me: ……….. Except without the ‘n’
Her: I think that stands for “rolling on the floor laughing my naked ass off.” Why the fuck are you naked?
Me: You don’t wanna know.

Jealous of our hilarity and awesomeness? You should be. We also work together. Winning.

 

 

http://mommyboots.com/2011/05/texts-from-my-husband-were-not-normal-people/

You Can’t Always Get What You Want

Nellie has a ride-on toy that we dubbed Murder.

Nellie and Murder. Watch yourself.

Why did we name a pink and purple princess ride-on toy Murder?

*shrugs*

Anyway, she has recently mastered the ability to get on and off Murder without our assistance. Sometimes she climbs on backward. She hasn’t gotten the hang of scooting along by herself, so usually she screams at us until we bend to her will like the good minions parents we are, and push her around our small apartment. Over and over. Until our backs hurt.

Nellie also has another toy with wheels. It’s a Little People carriage and it looks like this:

This toy is clearly for transporting blocks, princes and princesses, and
sometimes, the Incredible Hulk:


TAKE HULK TO MARKET.

It is not, however, for transporting little girls named Nellie. This is something that our darling daughter doesn’t understand, because she keeps trying to stand in it. She gets upset and frustrated and starts crying, so one day we decided to try and teach our little girl that you can’t always get what you want, because some things just don’t work. We allowed her to try and ride the princess carriage:

Why isn’t this tiny horse taking me where I want to go?

 

She soon discovered the flaw in her plan.

MY BOTTOM IS UNCOMFORTABLE AND I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

You may call us terrible and mean parents for allowing our child to sit on something that is uncomfortable and clearly not meant for a child to sit on while laughing and taking a picture at her discovery of said discomfort. Pff. Like you’ve never taken a picture of your child being traumatized or sobbing. Whatever.

Anyway, I’d like to tell you that Nellie learned her lesson after sitting on that uncomfortable hunk of pink and purple plastic, but I caught her the other day putting her foot inside the carriage and getting really pissed off when she wobbled and fell over. Ah, well. Sometimes you win, and other times your kid repeatedly tries to squeeze her ass onto a Little People horse and carriage.

 

 

 

 

Flip Flop Wine Review Part Deux: Pinot Noir

Welcome to part two of my flipflop wine review. If you missed part one, please head over here to read up on flipflop wines and why they are such an awesome company, and to read my thoughts about their delicious and crisp Pinot Grigio. Today’s wine is the flipflop Pinot Noir.

Before I get into the review of the Pinot Noir I want to take a second and talk about wine, and why you should be drinking it if you’re not already. There are several great reasons to drink wine on a regular basis. Now remember, by regular basis I mean like one to two glasses a day, tops. I’m not talking downing an entire box of wine out of your bathtub in one sitting (I may or may not have done that at my bachelorette party. It’s possible that there may have been several boxes of wine and beer sitting in the bathtub at the hotel). Here are just a few good reasons to drink wine; red wine in particular:

  • It’s delicious.
  • It can help you feel more relaxed after a long day.
  • A glass of red wine a day is thought to improve cardiovascular health!
  • It’s a great way to complement a particular meal (see below for the best foods with which to pair flipflop Pinot Noir).
  • Did I mention it’s tasty?

Now that you know why you should have a glass of red wine a day, here is why you should have a glass of flipflop Pinot Noir a day.

Again with the adorable label. And purple happens to be my favorite color!

About flipflop Pinot Noir

  • Vintage: 2009
  • Appellation: California
  • Tastes Like: Medium-bodied, structured Pinot Noir with bright cherry, sweet spice and a supple, velvety finish.
  • It Is Full Of: Cola aromas and hints of vanilla (um, yum!)
  • Eat With: Grilled mahi-mahi, bacon-wrapped shrimp or chocolate chip cookies (as if I needed a new excuse to eat chocolate chip cookies)
  • Serve: Room temperature
  • Store: Away from direct sunlight

I’m not usually a red wine girl. It usually is too rich and dry for me, and I usually only sip on it and don’t often finish a glass. However, I found the flipflop Pinot Noir to be very pleasant, semi-sweet and easy to sip on! The smell is great, and the taste is even better. I like to pour myself a glass while I’m cooking. Something about drinking wine while I cook my fancy (A.K.A, mac & cheese) meals makes me feel sophisticated. Even if sometimes my wine glass is dirty and I am too lazy to wash it, so I drink it out of a mug. That still counts, right? On the scale from Dry to Sweet, the Pinot Noir falls between Dry and Medium-Dry. I think that’s why I like it so much; I just don’t have the palate or stomach for wine that is too dry! This is really delicious and I highly recommend it, especially if you enjoy red wine.

At $7.00 a bottle, and $84.00 a case this wine is a must-have to keep in stock to drink with meals or to give as an impromptu gift! Remember that each bottle of wine sold donates a pair of shoes to a child in need thanks to flipflops’ partnership with Soles4Souls!

No monetary compensation was received for this post. I was given a bottle of flipflop wine Pinot Noir to review. I promise that I am 21 years old and have been for *coughsixyearscough*. The thoughts and opinions expressed in this review are 100% honest, and 100% my own.

 

 

 

Movie Time with Mommy Boots: Close Encounters of the WTF?

Okay, so I’m throwing an impromptu movie review at 10:45 at night. I just got done watching the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind for the first time. If you haven’t seen the movie and you don’t want me to ruin the ending for you, skip past this post and read about something else like my wine review or the time my kid got diarrhea in public and I had to give her a bath in the sink at the Olive Garden. Also, I apologize if you’re one of the rabid fans of this movie. I wouldn’t call it a bad movie at ALL, it just didn’t really sit well with me. I know it’s a classic and everything, but this is just one that I didn’t get.

Moving right along. This was one of those movies on my “to see” list forever. It’s a classic. It’s Speilberg, who can do no wrong. And while I’m not saying that this movie was bad by any means- on the contrary, it was technically very good- I am still left sitting here and thinking..

Really? Really.

Okay, okay. So let me get this straight. I just sat through over two hours (it felt like four) of this, essentially:

Richard Dreyfuss has irritating kids. Seriously. One of them beats this plastic doll on a playpen for like, 2 minutes while he and his wife argue over a train set.Richard Dreyfuss is crazy. Even before he sees the lights in the sky (which no one believes), he’s kind of a nutjob who is, for some odd reason, obsessed with the movie Pinocchio. What? There’s a cute little boy who lives out in the cornfield, whose toys are possessed and move on their own. The little boy wanders away, because he’s probably scared shitless because HIS TOYS ARE MOVING ON THEIR OWN. He even has one of those scary clappy demon monkey things. So his mom chases after him and she and Richard Dreyfus and some creepy old crazy guy all see the UFOs. Confusion and awe ensues as they watch the sparkly sky lights zoom overhead and some of them get some weird ass sunburn. Then they all get obsessed with drawing pictures of, or in Dreyfuss’s case sculpting, this giant rock/monolith thing. Dreyfuss becomes so obsessed, in fact, that one night he and his wife get into this huge fight and scare the holy living bejeezus out of their children. Like, the kids are crying and the parents are screaming at each other. Really, Mom and Dad? You’re going to slam doors and lock yourself in the bathroom? That’s cool, because we’re all 14 here.

So anyway Richard Dreyfuss is crazy and then the little boy gets kidnapped by the lights in the sky, which was actually a pretty creepy scene. Except it wouldn’t have happened if the mom had paid attention to her four year old crawling through a doggie door when THERE WERE CREEPY SKY PEOPLE TRYING TO GET IN HER HOUSE. Instead she was in the kitchen screaming and covering her ears and not paying attention to her four year old.

So cute kid gets kidnapped and Richard Dreyfuss’s wife takes the kids and leaves after he goes even more insane and starts throwing plants and bricks and other random outside things that have no business being in his  house through his kitchen window. He builds a model of the big rock monolith IN HIS LIVING ROOM. Who the hell is going to clean that up? I’ll tell you who. MOM. When she gets back from her sister’s, she’s going to find the dirt and chicken wire and god knows what else and she’s going to flip her shit. But she won’t have anyone to flip her shit at, because.. Wait. I’m getting ahead of myself. Also, people all start knowing this song that’s like, dee dee dee DUN DUN. If you don’t know what it sounds like go here.

So anyway Dreyfuss and Mom of Kidnapped Boy (MoKB) drive to the monolith thing, lots of government dodging and gas masks and dead (but not really dead, it’s just pass-out gas) bird and cows and stuff happen. And then there is the part where the spaceships show back up to this big government landing strip thing and there’s like, a laser light show to Dark Side of the Moon or something. I don’t know. It had been like, eight hours at this point and I wasn’t really paying attention anymore. So anyway they play Simon with each other for a while and then the spaceship opens up and kills everyone.

Except not really. The spaceship spits out a bunch of people that have been missing for like 30 years, only they haven’t aged. Which is depressing because now someone’s going to have to tell them that their wives are probably dead and their children don’t know them. Then a big creepy gangly alien comes out and also a bunch of small, creepy child-sized aliens do too. Oh, and P.S., the cute kidnapped kid comes out and he’s fine. His brains are intact as far as you can tell and he seems relatively unscathed. He says something cute that I didn’t understand, because he was like, four.

Anyway they march out a bunch of random people in sunglasses and red jumpsuits and decide Richard Dreyfuss should join them. So the creepy alien children flock around him and eat his brains usher him onto the ship and the big alien smiles and I pissed my pants because it was frigging creepy and then they fly away.

AND THAT’S HOW IT ENDS.

So I essentially just spent two plus hours to watch Richard Dreyfuss be crazy, throw bricks through his window, get a sunburn, and also abandon his wife and three children to live with the space people.

AWESOME.

Disclaimer: No offense is meant to those who love this movie. I just didn’t get it.