Questions, incessant unending questions....

One of the first times I realized Genea might be having more than transitional issues, is when I read about RAD and the inclination to chatter incessantly. Nonsense question after nonsense question. AHA! Went my brain- we have that!
Of course, most children go through a stage where they appear physically unable to stop their lips from flapping like pancakes. It begins to feel like someone is slapping you up the side of your skull after a bit. *Smack* Smack* Smack* and your head is going *thud *thud* thud* and all you want to do is scream shuuuuuuuuuuuut uuuuuuuuuuuup! But, you can scream shut up all you want because it will not make a lick of difference. Yammer yammer.
I realized one day that there was an identifiable difference between Teena's unending senseless chatter and Genea's unending senseless chatter. Genea could stop. Without bribing and without threatening, if I told them to go sit on different couches and be quiet, Genea could do it, Teena could not. So I began to think, hmmmm, this appears to something she is far more in control of than I would have guessed.
Lately, Genea has been on a nonsense question streak. It always starts with Mama? Can I ask you a nonsense question? So it is a two for one. And the nonsense question is almost always a "no" answer. And I hate it. I feel like I am rejecting her 95 times a day because she asks these questions all day long and maybe 5 of them I can squeeze a yes into. I am being set up, 100 times a day and 95 of those times I am being directly led to a negative. It used to be that every. single. one. of the questions that was a "no" led immediately to the Wango Tango. That thankfully has lessened considerably. THANKfully.
I think this is Genea's way of connecting with me and her Daddy. If we are being forced into engaging with her, she is alive. She exists if we look at her and respond. She is not invisible or being ignored when she is hungry or needs a hug. She has someone who might take care of her if she can just force that person to acknowledge her in some way, any way. That is my opinion anyhow, I think it is an orphanage holdover.
A few months ago, I started answering a nonsense question with a nonsense question of my own. I have 2. I reply with "Is it dark outside?" when it is light, or vice versa or for some variety I might say "Is your hair purple?", both of which make her think, then say no, then she moves on. This has been moderately successful as it cuts waaaaaay down on the Wango Tango one can enjoy if one responds with "no" too many times.
So yesterday she came home and her friend had been absent from school. She asked if she could have some candy to make herself feel better (thanks you- know- who). Of course I said, no. We don't do snacks after school. I found last year that Genea would not eat her lunch (that costs 2 freaking dollars) if she had a snack to rely on, but absolutely would eat her lunch if she knew that was all she would get until dinner (rigid thinking ya' think?). A few minutes later she asked again. My phone rang, she asked could she get it for me (always no) and asked who it was before I even answered (again, not permitted and forcing my attention to her instead of the call). So I decided to try something I had been thinking about.
I pulled out a jar of these connecting blocks, as seen above, and counted out 14. Those 14 would be the number of nonsense questions she could ask for the rest of the day and when they were gone, no more questions. Regular necessary questions did not count, though only I would determine what was necessary and not. I thought, 14 nonsense question would leave her without any more questions right around 7:00, as it would be 5:00 when we started this, and she goes to bed around 8. See how I think these things through? So I could make my point and there would be a minimum of suffering. I just wanted her to get a sense of how often she really does this. How often she makes up a question just for attention. Just sheerly for the sake of making her Daddy or I stop what we are doing, shift our attention, engage and communicate and then create a negative atmosphere when we have to say "no" to something she did not want or need anyway. There would be no consequences and no rewards, nothing at all. Just to see.
She bawled. But she understood.
The picture on top is how many she started with yesterday. Yes, there are only 13 in the picture, I took it after she lost the first one.

It is now 3:00 on Saturday. We started yesterday.

She clearly has waaaay- haaay- ayyyyy more control over this than I EVER would have thought.

Ugh (warning, lots of whining)

It is 5:00 and it is totally dark out. It sucks that it won't get any better for another 2 months.

My cats were totally off kilter with us gone. One hid for so long we thought he might be either dead or gone. Turned out he was hiding behind the tv. Now he has diarhea. He is generous with it and has bad aim. Lovely.

I am left feeling stunned that there is a person in the world who would use my mentally ill daughter as the crux of her control battle towards me. Astounding. Disgusting.

Teena is sick. 5 straight hours of vomitting.

I am still sort of recovering from our trip. It was long. I am sure I will have my shit together soon (as good as usual anyway) but for now, ugh.

Oh I almost forgot, our furnace was broken when we got home.

Hanging in....

I am hanging in there with fingertips grinding blood into the volcanic ash turned rock turned mesa. OOOOOH, my.

Shit has hit the fan. It splattered all over the walls and into the lighting fixtures. There have been blatant attempts to give my daughters an eating disorder. Obvious, in my face, using the phrase "I'll say what I want to say". Despite my husband and I asking my mother in law several times over the past year to stop trying to control, manipulate, guilt and shame our children into eating their food, our words have wafted into the wind. Deliberately and specifically making an issue out of the food they eat over and over.

Sadly, I just cannot cope in a passive aggressive world. I am unable to make those sly nasty comments the older generation is so prolific with. That way of insulting the crap out of you while smiling and using nicey-nice voice. Unfortunately, I am a direct and to the point sort of person. So I have been. Direct. To the point. It seems my skill for clarity is just not appreciated. I don't know why.

Anyway, there will be no further attempts to give my daughters any type of eating disorder. So far, since 3 days ago, it has held.

In other news, it has been cold here in New Mexico but pretty. The girls are doing fabulously. Some kids like Genea freak out when on a trip away from home. If there is a background of trauma, especially trauma in primary caretaker, the kids can really flip out when going to another house. Other houses in the past have resulted in new parents. Genea is the opposite. She flipped her lid before we left. Oooooh my. She held a refresher course for us in every single gross and obnoxious behavior she ever invented. It was nice to be reminded how far she has come. So, once on the plane to leave for our trip, here comes Uber Genea! The best, most calm and pleasant and helpful, well mannered, thoughtful, kind, quiet child you have ever met. I believe this is to ensure we do not leave her anywhere. Look how great I can be! Make sure you keep me! In fact, I have a backpack puppy leash for Teena and Genea made me go get her monkey pack leash out for the airport. I am serious, it is so cute. She is 6 for crying out loud! She can take it on and off herself! She hands me the leash every time it leaves my hands for whatever reason. I had expected to get some rude comments from people since she is obviously so big so I had a response all ready: "Listen lady/mister, you have NO idea what you are judging here" etc. curse, etc, but no one was rude! Several people said, what a great idea, and a few even asked politely where they could get them. Unreal! I could have used to go off on someone. Why does the world conspire against me?

Teena is of course fine. You could drop that child into the rain forest without shoes and she would manage. She would talk with the parrots and take a nap with the iguanas. I have said this before, I know, deal with me a minute. I am so proud of her confidence and independence. I love that she has always been safe and secure and is so capable and adventurous. Then, when she stays overnight at her grandparents house and we go to get her the next day, she barely flicks an eyeball to us before going back to her fascinating activity, without even saying hi. Little shit.

I went yarn shopping in Taos at http://www.lalanawools.com/ . Get a bucket out first for your drool so you don't short out your keyboard. Their website is a little janky, but if you can find it, check out their Forever Random colors. Then, go rob a bank so you can buy some. I blew my whole yarn budget so cannot go yarn shopping in Sante Fe. However, I did not tap into my handbag budget at all, nor my Liz Claiborne budget. Wheeeeeee! Going tomorrow to the fancy outlet stores. Although last year, Liz had clothes surely beat by the ugly stick so I am not going to get my sorry little hopes up. Cut price, seconds and returned items at Coach will more than make up for the sad Liz clothes.

This has been my first chance to get to the computer for some time. I have been reading blogs in my minutes of free time and keeping up with everyone by reader but have not been able to get into comments as my time is being sucked into a vortex from hell (yeah, no I have no idea what that means but it sounds really bad which is my point).

I'll be home in a few days. I have a LOT of great stories, one that includes Genea being so brave she decided she never needs to be brave again. She has done it. LOL!

Too True Tues #7

It is time again for TTT! Woo Hoo!

This week I have to be short and quick and truth be told, I am going to slack a little bit. I have a lot of stuff to do for our trip starting tomorrow. I refuse to call it a vacation. I won't write what I think of in my head. Anyway, this weeks topic is..... What is the first thing you would buy if you won the lottery?

My answer is a Corvette. Automatic transmission only. Midnight blue.

Note that there is only space for 2 people in a Corvette and no car seats. And my handbag will take up that second seat.

Speaking of my handbag, how the hell am I supposed to take only 3 one ounce bottles of liquid or gel type stuff on the airplane? I take more than 3 one ounce bottles of liquids, lotions and gels to the damn grocery store! You know what else is stupid? If the airport security people find you with an extra bottle of liquid not in a quart size bag or over the ounce size, they huck it away in a bin. Okay.... if it is such a dangerous potential toxin or flammable or explosive, how are you just going to pitch it into the nearest trash can? I mean, shouldn't you call in the bomb squad or something? Get that cool robot dude to come in and take apart my little bottle of moisturizing Peachy Keen hand cream?
If you are going to call it a hazard, treat it like a hazard. Otherwise you just look stupid. (I can imagine the search hits I will get on that! Hi TSA!)

Anyway, I don't know yet if I am taking my computer to NM with me. I will try since I will desperately need all the friends who live in it.


Back to TTT #7
First thing you would spend your lottery money on! Tell the truth! Spare us the crap about buying your kids a Carousel or paying off your parents mortgage. The REAL truth!




By the way, I am also taking suggestions for future TTT's.

Ding ding ding

Genea found out when we are going on our trip to New Mexico.



All my own fault. She and Teena were watching tv for 5 minutes so I could talk to my mom on the phone and I told my mom when we were leaving and I heard Genea hollering "Yay, we are going on Wednesday Teena, YAY!!!". So for the past several days we have been dodging the Molotov cocktails hurled at us with a lot of different emotions. However, now that we are at a point where Genea has a half second of control, the half second to think before the action takes place, now we can get in there in that half second and get down and funky with it.



At dinner the other night, here comes Genea to the table sporting Look #3 all over her beautiful face. Not the dissociated look, and not the incessant crying look (numbers 1 and 2). Number 3 is the half awake dopey regressed sort of look. Where her tongue hangs out of her open mouth and she looks like she might have just woken up, if that were true. Her eyes are dull and mildly vacant. She climbs into her seat and starts off- loading Crazy immediately.



"Ewwwww, I don't like thisssssssss". Sigh. Yes you do, you have had it 100 times but that's okay just don't eat it then.
Genea 0
Mama 1

(for the record, she ate it)



Interrupts thru dinner, pouts when reminded. Chews with mouth open etc. Drinks out of her cup and dribbles an entire mouthful of milk down her chin and onto her clothes as if she were vomiting. Why?

"It tastes spicy and I don't like it". No.

"I always do that at school". No.

" I was trying to get the milk into my bowl". Nice try Genea. Are you trying to make us mad? (NO!) Are you feeling nervous inside and so you are trying to make things nervous on the outside too? (NO!) Well, it won't work. We are not going to get mad at you.

Genea 0
Mama 2



Here comes Look #2, also known as Cry Face. Precludes all crying but does not necessarily lead to crying or meltdowns anymore. Shoots out the elevated frustration sound with scrunched down eyebrows and cramped up mouth, ehhhEHHHuu WAAAAH uuhERR ehhhhh! Continues with dinner.



*COUGH* choke HOOwah *GAG* Genea chokes on her milk and spurts it all over. Sigh. Genea, are you still trying to make us mad at you? Do you want us to yell at you? Because we are not going to do it. Sometimes you act like this when you feel nervous but everything is okay and we are not mad at you.

Genea 0
Mama 3

Cries.

GENEA. Are you serious? You are going to sit there and cry because no one will get mad at you??? Here, hold my hand. Come on, give my hand a hug. You will feel better. Come on, don't just leave my hand laying here looking all silly alone on the table!

Genea 0
Mama 4

Genea. Why are you crying. Tell me why.

Because I want to sit on your lap and I cahaaahaaaaan't.

Okay, we can fix that. I can move my chair back. Done.



Now, it rarely works out like this. In fact it warrants its own blog post and a scorecard because I am pretty sure this is the first time I have ever really fought off The Crazy combined with an incoming Wango Tango and come out ahead. In our house, this was a massively successful but hard fought battle!!!!

Will it happen this way next time? I hope so. Is there a good chance Genea will expand on her repertoire and come up with new stuff? Oh yeah. Do I hope like hell that we will get the chance to divert it all? Oh YEAH! I know she was not crying because she wanted to sit on my lap the whole time. She is still a little girl and a lot of times she does not know why she is upset and will just think up something random to hang her feelings on. However, it is a huge sign of progress in my mind that she was able to express and ask for something that would help her to feel better!

In the past few days that she has known when our trip would be, she has also been back up on the toes. She has been sleeping a lot more. Last night she developed a rash on her back, neck to butt. And of all the dreaded, dreaded activities of stress, she pee'd on herself during the day. The first time that has happened in at least 5 months. Ever since Potty Boot Camp back in the spring, she has been dry as the desert on a hot windy summer day.

What's funny, funny odd, not funny haha, is that she has been otherwise delightful. Pleasant, nice, polite. Definitely fits of demanding and the usual incessant unending nonsense questions thrown in for reminders sake. (Mama? Is this the table you want me to clean? Mama? Should I use a towel to wipe this? Mama? Which towel? Mama? Do you want me to wipe up this pile of goo? Mama? Where should I put this garbage?). But generally cooperative and calm. Enjoyable and enjoying herself.

Less Crazy, more Genea. Woo Hoo!

Why Dogs Don't Like Halloween

Seriously, this is so very sad and so screamingly funny at the same time!

FW: Why Dogs Don't Like Halloween

The "hootchie" dog with the thong is my favorite. I think. The cow and the alligator are close seconds.

Well I messed THAT up

I get Teena from her bus in the afternoon, then we usually wait in the driveway for Genea's bus to come about 5 minutes later. Our house is only 3 houses away from the bus stop, so I let Genea get off the bus herself and "hang" on the curb a few minutes with her friends so she can be cool while we watch her. Provided it is not raining or cold of course. Then she runs up and we all fight and kick our way to the door depending on who thinks she is the appointed leader versus who is attempting to overthrow current leadership regime versus Mama who gives not a shit and snaps on them to get moving. Right. As usual, we cannot seem to complete any sort of task in a simple or calm way. Walk to the door. That's all we have to do and we are not able to manage even that.

Chaos continues as we move through the actual door, based on who thinks she was supposed to go in first as opposed to who is trying to shove her way in first. Sometimes there is wailing, or a tantrum for mystery reasons. But it is always a loud clumsy and physical exchange what with coats and backpacks and shoes and you would genuinely think there were 14 kids there instead of just 2.

So the other day when Genea asked me in the middle of all this, as she tends to do, if she could have a hug and a kiss, I said "yes a hug no kiss" as I was trying to pull off Teena's coat inside out. I thought that sounded a bit cold, so I clarified "yes you can hug my leg if you want but I can't bend down to kiss you right now but if you really want to you can kiss my belly button", which is in the general region of where her face lands. She thought that was a hilarious idea and proceeded to kiss my shirt in the area of the belly button. Then she said "that's where babies come out from right?"!


CLANK BaBOOM PING CHATHUNK is the sound of my brain shattering and my head exploding at the same time.


"Mmmmn, umm hmmm, yeah" I mumbled, in my most educated speaking voice. As my brain was screaming "OH SHIT you told her the wrong thing and she thinks the wrong thing what NOW I was NOT expecting this what should I tell her I have to correct her she cant go around thinking babies come out of belly buttons but good CRAP I can't tell her where they REALLY come from right NOW she can't handle that information she will be shocked and appalled and horrified and not in any kind of good way oh NO what should I do don't I have a book on this somewhere where the hell is that book and what did it say I don't remember" so I coughed a bit and said :



"well, not really".



Only now Genea is looking quizzical and it is alarming how obvious it is that she is about to ask for more details and I don't have any to give her because I DON'T KNOW ANY details to give to a 6 year old. I mean I have thought about this and gone through some scenarios, mostly where I hide behind clinical terminology that I know they won't understand and maybe draw a vague outline of something, but THIS was NOT one of the ways I considered and so I said:



"Well, from the area" as I uselessly gestured toward my offending belly button. I really did that. I can't believe it even typing the words.



At which point Teena started to squirm around looking like she was going to jump in and make a point of which she does NOT HAVE any points to make so I knew THAT was not going to be anything good so I interrupted and said:



"So who wants a cookie?"





I think I successfully dodged that bullet from hell but now I cannot laze around on the whole "where babies come from" thing. My innocence has been ruined and I now have to consider where babies really DO come from and how am I going to pass that on to 2 small, sheltered children in a way they will understand and not freak out. I can no longer wave cluelessly in the wind. I know this is a slippery slope people. Slippery. Slope. Next they are going to want to know how that baby got in there and I tell you, I might just have to get laryngitis for the next 20 years. I mean come ON!

Accidental Mommy. Notice I am not the Mommy That Has it Going On, or the Mommy Who Knows Stuff. Not Supermommy or Mommy Who Can Handle Everything.

Accidental.

Need help and suggestions....

Okay, so when I was growing up we were all card toting members of the Clean Plate Cult. You ate what was on your plate until your plate was clean. However long it took, you sat at the table. My parents grew up with parents who had survived The Great Depression and I quite clearly recall my grandparents having a slice of bread at every meal. The function of that piece of bread being to wipe the plate after most of the food had been eaten. Then, they ate the bread. Not a speck of food was wasted. So I get that. I understand the history and background of the cult.

I also understand eating disorders. Anorexia, Bulimia, Binge eating and Obesity. I don't understand them very well but I know just enough to be certain that Genea is an eating disorder waiting to happen. Her obsessive need for control, her compulsion to manipulate her environment, her hyper vigilance and constant elevated stress level. I get it that eating disorders are not about the food. Every couple of months she will go through a spat where her behavior focuses on food. Asking for extra and not eating it. Refusing to eat, then stealing food later. Hoarding food, hiding food in the trash, binging, all the usual. Want to tell her she has to eat? She will, and then she will spontaneously vomit. She doesn't need to gag herself, stick fingers in her throat or anything. She will just sit there, and then *splat* she pukes. She will binge drink her water or milk so fast that it chokes her and gags her and her face turns red and she is still trying to force more liquid in while she is coughing and it is flying out the sides of her mouth and down her shirt. She is in absolute control of this, and if I give her a spoon to get her liquids with for one meal *poof* problem over. The Husband and I are to where we can tell when she is being a regular bratty fussy kid versus having a RAD attack, but we are not going to ask anyone else to figure out the difference.

Here is where I need help. We are going to visit grandparents who are proud high ranking officials in the Clean Plate Cult. They are incessant about it. When they are not actually physically trying to force food on my kids, they are talking about their food intake in front of them. I have hinted to them to quit. I have outright said, quit it. I have taken food out of the hand trying to feed my child and said STOP IT. The Husband has tried to explain orphanage related eating issues. Has tried to tell them we want our girls to learn to moderate their own food intake. That Genea is coming from different circumstances and we just cannot make food an issue with her. And we cannot make it an issue with Teena either. I have told them over and over, we want the girls to stop eating when they are ready and to be able to figure out for themselves when they are full. To listen to their bodies and moderate what they eat as to how hungry they are and then to know when to stop.

The kicker is, both of these people are overweight. One directly attributes her weight to being made to clean her plate as a kid. Now she freaks out about food being wasted etc etc. So it is not that they don't know, they just cannot seem to make themselves shut up. On and on and on about how much of this, how little of that, maybe we should give her this, we've never seen her eat an entire plate of food etc. "oh sweetie eat that little bitty bit of food for gramma" and "you make gramma sad when you don't eat your food" complete with a pouty face. I just cringe thinking about it.

So my last ditch effort is to send them some reading material ahead of our visit. Maybe if they see it in writing, writing done by professionals, maybe they will get it then. Because if they don't, I am going to have to supervise every. single. meal. and after that, I will have to insist that all my kids meals be had away from them, which the result of that is then I am making an issue out of their eating. Which is of course, NOT the point!

Here is where I need help. I can't seem to find any good comprehensive articles about trauma, orphanages and food problems. I don't need suggestions on how to tell them to piss off, since that hasn't worked either. I am looking for some basic information that connects all the dots, even if it is graphic. Maybe even better if it is graphic. We have Attachment Disorder, Failure to Thrive, Bipolar Disorder, Post- Trauma, and Post-institutionalization to pick from to start with.

For as much as I may get my nerves tap danced upon, these are two people that adore their grandchildren and would never in a million years want to hurt them in any way shape or form. They just don't understand and I need to MAKE them!!!

So please, if you know of anything I can print out or buy, leave me a link or let me know of a website or whatever. I will be SO eternally grateful!!!!!

Hee hee

I make myself giggle sometimes.

My girls, like most kids, are just awful about taking care of their things. Mostly I don't care, they are more important than their things and they are pretty good about learning from it. Plus The Husband and I are all about the "incidental teaching" moments. We take all the opportunities we get to remind whatever kid that she would have had blank to play with had she not done whatever to blank. And if it is really important or really expensive, we keep it out of their reach in the first place.

So anyway, they have crapped all over their CD's and DVD's. This weekend we did a lot of cleaning up (despite my being near my deathbed) and found them all over the place. I swear a few even had snot on them. Ick. To fast forward, (insert your own screaming crying fits here) we took them all away for a time we will determine on our own schedule. In other words, when I can't stand it anymore I will park them back in front of a movie. When they have their hour long rest time, no more music or stories to listen to. No Mozart or beautiful fairy princess stories. No more chance to argue about whose turn it is to pick either. Sorry dudettes, you wrecked them all. Instead, I have chosen for them. Yes indeedy, I have.

Instructional Cantonese on CD.

Hee he he he hee!

All Highest Praises to Single Moms

I have the flu for the 3rd time this year. I have not had the flu for like, 2 decades before this. So obviously it felt it had some catching up to do.

And you know what? Karma socked me in the ass and I have a sore throat still. I don't think it ever got better from my hissy fit and just rolled right into a viral thing.

Teena was fluish about a week ago. Thankfully she has the decency to get sick on the weekend while there is a Husband to help out with either the sicko puke-o or the hyper unsick one. How do single moms do it????? I don't know!!! Now I am sick and he has dealt with the kids most of the weekend. I was fairly useless and had I been on my own, well, someone would not have survived this. Genea of course, rarely gets sick at all. She just brings the germs home, knocks us out with 'em, then steals all our candy.

(LMAO that's not true of course but it gave me the funniest image when I thought it and if it is not funny and just bizarre, well, blame the dayquil) (But it's true she rarely gets sick and seems to be a thing with kids from traumatic backgrounds).

Anyway, dragging my butt to bed. Hope I feel better in the morning.

Seriously, single Moms should get combat pay.

Dang, spell check doesn't like hissy, fluish or unsick. Stupid spell check.

NOW I am going to bed.

Sore. Throat.

Yesterday I yelled at my kids for so long my throat hurt when I was finally done.

I didn't scream and it was not an out -of -control thing. It was not a rage. I just yelled. I yelled long and I yelled loud.

I have done nicey- nice voice to death. I have been understanding. Compassionate. I have listened and supported. I have tried to compromise. I have tried to fulfill needs that appear never- ending. I have been present during rages. I have been calm. I have been loving and affectionate. Been to my happy place and stayed (mostly) regulated. I have been in the moment. I have listened to the fear instead of the words. I have responded to the intention instead of the action. I have jacked up the positive. Ignored the negative.

I have breathed in. And out.

Not only do I have one child who goes from 0-60 in one single second but now I have another child who thinks that is how you get stuff done around here.

I remember reading an article a few years back about yelling at your kids. It was full of scathing remarks like "indulging in your anger will scar your children for life". "Raising your voice to children teaches them to be serial killers "(not an exact quote but you get the idea). So anyway, Teena especially was being a screeching brat yesterday. Remember The Exorcist? I would not have been surprised had she walked up the stairs backwards and upside down. Seriously! Well take THAT Parent Magazine. I'm sure they never interviewed Regan's twin sisters for any article they ever wrote suggesting that allowing your frustration to show as a parent makes your kids think they are bad and will lead to life long eating disorders (my personal fear for Genea in particular). I don't need a parenting magazine anyway, I need to call the archdiocese.

Listen, I was a great parent before I had kids. I really rocked this shit.

And I am not saying I am proud of myself..... but it did feel good.

(Before anyone gets their commenting fingers in a bunch yes I know this was not a good thing and I very well could have set us back by having my little fit and I should have been able to be the adult, put on my big-girl panties, and suck it up. I know. I do not claim to be Super Mom, only Generally Adequate Mom on Most Days).

Too True Tues #6

Well quite frankly, I've hit the motherlode on this one. The subject of this week's TTT is the worst gift you have ever received. The sort of thing that if a co-worker were telling you about it, you would not believe them. You wouldn't believe it yourself if it hadn't happened. But it's true, every bit. Bonus points if you can find a photo.

In my life I have one particular offender and ohhhhhh my, offensive she is. I have been gifted with a Sonny and Cher fur vest. A blouse with Christmas trees on it outlined in glitter. Acrylic socks for every holiday. A fake leather "shirt". A rug with a hole cut out for your head to make it a poncho. So many ugly little items that it slowly became clear to me that there was no accident happening here. There had to be deliberation. No one single person could mistakenly obtain that much ugliness without prior planning. No one single person could find that much ugliness attractive and of value.

Last year on my birthday, a big production was made of the gift. Ooh oh oh, she could not wait for me to open this special thing. So excited. Oooh ohoh, had to wait for the explanation blah blah blah because it was so special. I opened a small box in dread knowing that the small boxes usually contained offenses to jewelry. Sure enough, it was a big clunky wire bracelet thing with a chunk of stone on it. Turquoise. And praise the Lord and pass the ammunition, there were earrings to match. I tried so hard to only look at them sideways so as to not damage my vision (I have the same reaction to unfortunate handbags).(I don't hate turquoise, its just not my thing, its pretty on other people).

Now at about this point I am sure people are going, dang you selfish shithead, maybe it wasn't your taste but the thought is what counts. Or wow, lady, give it a rest, geez. But wait, there is more to the story.

The background of the offense to jewelry was the important part. The exciting part. The part that made it special. See, the jewelry belonged to the gifter. As it was told to me, she put the bracelet on herself recently and "decided it wasn't right for" her anymore and so she "should pass it on". You got it, she decided she did not like it any more. That it was time to pass it on. Very close to the exact words.

So was it an important antique?
No.
Was it a family heirloom?
No.
Was it a special thing in any way?
No.

It was just used. Used jewelry for my birthday. That she didn't like anymore and decided it was time to pass it on. To me.

Random stuff

I am nominating myself for "Laziest Mom on the Planet". I feel like I should do it before someone else does. Kind of like David Letterman. I always used to silently mock those lazy slugs who would drive their kids a block to the stupid bus stop. Even worse, when I lived in Ohio I drove to work going passed a lot of farms and while the houses were set back from the street it still struck me as lazier than snot when I would see a parent and kid sitting in a running car at the end of the driveway.





See that white house at the end of the block there? That is Teena's bus stop.





See that brown building at the end there? That is Teena's school. Here where I live there are no sidewalks and so all 4k and kindergarten students are bussed to school no matter where they come from.

So today, it is 37 degree's out and I drove Teena to the bus stop and waited in the car for the bus to take her one block. Yes I did. I thought I should admit it myself before it turns up in the newspapers. I drove off afterwards, to make it look like I might have had an urgent appointment and so was forced to sit impatiently in the car to maximize my time. Really though, Target is open for like 12 hours every day.

Here is another thing. It is supposed to snow today. I am not kidding, if so much as one stinking snowflake even thinks of landing its ugly feet on me I am going to go off. I don't know on who, and I don't exactly have a plan but take my word for it I will be pissed off and taking names! Snow in October! The party responsible for this weather is really the one at fault for my having to take my car to the bus stop. Not me.


Here is a slinky sort of award from Obladi Oblada! So very cool! I always get very excited when this happens and feel like maybe I should have a speech. But I don't. However, I am passing this on to 4 bloggers, as per the rules!


http://www.annieology.com/

http://www.onemothersday.blogspot.com/

http://alwayswanted4.blogspot.com/

http://sherific.blogspot.com/


There you are!


Tomorrow is Tuesday and therefore it Too True Tues! Whipee!!!! The subject is, what is the worst gift you ever got. A gift so bad you would have never believed it could have even happened had it not happened to you! I will post up all the little technicalities tomorrow. Assuming I am not arrested for snowflake assassination.

Family Needs Help

Please click here and think of anyone you know who might be able to help this family. It is a desperate and devastating position to be in.



My family adopted Genea from a disruption. As most know, she was originally adopted from Ukraine as a toddler. I think, in my opinion and not having been there, that there was very little hope for that adoption in the first place. The family sought help from every resource available. In the short span of one year she had seen 5 medical doctors who were unable to determine what was causing her problems. Therapists and counselors. Her problems being that she wailed for hours on end and would then dissociate for hours on end. Having seen her dissociate, I can say with authority that it is extremely frightening. She becomes almost catatonic. If you were to pick up her arm for example, and let go, it would flop back down as if she were sleeping. But she wasn't. Her eyes would be open but she was not seeing and she would not move. Then she stopped growing. Initially upon arrival to the United States, she grew rapidly the first 6 months or so. Then across the next year, she stopped growing. When we met her she was 4 years old and the same height as Teena. She was just under 30 inches tall and had been wearing the same shoes for 2 years.



She was diagnosed with several different medical conditions. The family was primarily blamed for being bad parents. I don't know if they were or not but I think they were probably as good as most people would have been. Genea's body had burned out it's ability to produce stress hormone and she had to be on strict medication. No one knows what caused it and it is extremely rare, especially in children. Any physical injury had to be dealt with as a life or death possibility. If she became sick and vomited, we had to inject her with medication to counter the stress to her body. There were many different doses for different injuries or illnesses.



There were many other factors that led to the disruption of her adoption, those things are the tip of the tip of the iceburg. I can tell you this, I have about 20 years of experience in human services. I worked in a group home for severely and profoundly developmentally disabled adults just released from life long institutionalization. I worked with juvenile offenders. I worked in another group home for young girls (5-12) who had been specifically sexually abused (other abuses as well but this was a treatment home). They had all been in therapeutic foster homes and this group home was the stop before long term hospitalization. I worked doing autism treatment with young children, ages 2-12. I did what is called intensive in-home psychotherapy with severely emotionally disturbed children and teenagers. I went to the child's house to work with the family for 6 to 8 hours a week.



Genea's problems still knocked me out. And for a good 6..... 8.... 12 months I lived upside down and inside out. It is not and was not her fault, however it is a fact. We met Genea as a 'turtle'. She was withdrawn and clinically depressed. She rarely spoke and did not make a sound when she cried. We met with her and the other family many times and did a transition over about 4 weeks. Heavily monitered by the adoption agency and our therapist, we did everything by the book as far as the optimal plan goes. Well, I'll probably never know why, but the day she moved in with us she turned into a mountain lion and has been that way ever since. And rest assured, she makes noise when she cries.

That's just a little bit of our story. Hopefully if anyone was feeling judgemental, it might make you think again or at least get another perspective.

So I wish all the best for the Watching the Waters family, every single member!

Lame. I. Am.

*sigh*

How pathetic is it that I got all teared up at Jim and Pam's wedding tonite?

Ok, not need-a- tissue teary, but teary is teary. And since neither one of these people are real, does that make it worse?

If you don't watch tv they are on a show called The Office. Anyway.

Is it just lame? Or dumb and lame? Stupid and imbecilically lame? Other adjectives?
(Or are they superlatives? I went to public school, I cannot be accountable for my grammatical errors). (That's public school in Illinois). You get the idea.

They are such a sweet couple!

Okay.

Lame.
I.
Am!

Look at this!

This is from http://www.annieology.com/ . I am assuming she means "Over the Top" in a positive, cool way! I am just going to run with that assumption LMAO!


This award does come with a few rules;
Answer the survey below…you can only use one word answers!
Pass this along to 6 of your favorite bloggers!
Alert them that you have given them this award!
Have Fun!
_______________________________________________________Where is your cell phone?- Someone needs to call it – couch.
Your hair? -knotty
Your mother?- nice
Your father? – loud

Your favorite food?-lobster
Your dream last night?- dunno'
Your favorite drink? coffee
Your dream/goal? – quiet

What room are you in?- dining

Your hobby?- knitting

Your Fear?- spiders

Where do you want to be in 6 years? – beach

Where were you last night? – bed

Something that you aren’t? Patient
Muffins? blueberry
Wish list item? corvette

Where did you grow up? illinois

Last thing you did? busstop
What are you wearing? sweats
Your TV? big

Your pets? cats
Friends? working
Your life? exhausting

Your mood? exhausted.
Missing someone? no

Vehicle? sedan
Something you’re not wearing? bra
Your favorite store? Target
Your favorite color? Purple
When was the last time you laughed? morning
Last time you cried? long
One place that I go to over and over? Mexico

One person who emails me regularly? spam
Favorite place to eat? Starbucks

So for my 6 bloggers I am going to nominate the new people I have "met" recently, so we can get to know you better. (And so you can get an award cuz it really makes me so happy to get one, especially when I was new, I figure it does for everyone).

Here they are:

http://stellarparenting.blogspot.com/

http://wechoseadoption.blogspot.com/

http://findingourwaytofamily.blogspot.com/

http://mamadrama-timestwo.blogspot.com/

http://0to3in90days.blogspot.com/

And lastly, new to my followers (yeeha!) but giving fair warning on the language..... (she says the words I mostly just think lol)

http://baconismylover.blogspot.com/

And in all seriousness, here is a great blog I found because the family was on Oprah yesterday. They have a daughter with schizophrenia and this is the Dad's blog:

www.Januaryfirst.org

I want to see Michael Jacksons doctor please

Paging Dr. Murray......

In a few weeks we have my favorite time of year. The annual visit to the in- laws in New Mexico. Ahhhhh. Total saturation.

As a refresher, for anyone who was not here last year or has their own life and has not memorized mine, here is a post from the visit. And another.


I call it the Great Land of Undiagnosed Aspergers with all due respect. We are talking nuclear physicists here people. Seriously, real ones. 40 and 50 years ago people were not diagnosed with Aspergers but that does not mean it did not exist. I think it is amazing to turn what would be considered a disability into an enjoyable and profitable life long career.


I will visit yarn stores and the Coach outlet. I will be taking my girls back to the Sanctuario de Chimayo as it has become obvious they need a fresh trip to the Holy Dirt. Maybe I will have them jump in the hole this time and wiggle around some. These are the things that will be fun and -or interesting for me. That leaves approximately 142 other hours to fill with close up in- law fun.


If I may, I would just like to complain once again that back when we were child-free, NO ONE cared about The Husband and I and we were free to live our lives as we pleased. No one especially cared to see us, visit us, or have us visit them. That has all changed. SLIDHGL ISH LSIN;FG!!!!! WHYYYYYYY!!!!


So anyway, does anyone know how to hunt down that Dr. Murray that *ahem* used to see Michael Jackson? Should I call the FBI I wonder? Just bring your prescription pad Mr. Doctor, that is the most important thing. Better break out a fresh one.

Just for reference

When Genea started school last year, I had no debate with myself as to what I would tell her teacher, if anything. There was nothing to debate. If Genea was going to make it through the door, the teacher had to know where she was coming from in all ways. I wrote up pages of background (although at the time she was still on the medic alert bracelet so there was a lot of that to describe). I met with the teacher at least twice, maybe more, before school started. I brought Genea to school and let her roam around the classroom until she was done, with the teachers permission and participation. Daddy and Teena came to school with Genea and I and we all 4 roamed around the school until Genea felt she was done. A lot of preparation. Mostly, in retrospect, aside from making Genea as comfortable as would be possible, I wanted the teacher to know she was different. She doesn't look different and in a lot of ways you might not realize something was different until you had spent some time with her. I did not want to have the teacher wasting any time wondering what might be different. She needed to know everything she needed to know in order to teach Genea. From the "Mom" perspective, I wanted the teacher to know Genea is not just being a brat if she stares at you blistering your eyeballs instead of answering your question. If she screams so loud other classes think the fire alarm has gone off and barricades herself under a desk blocking you with a chair, it might look like it is because she is not getting her way. It is not. It is because her brain perceives an emergency where no one else would. So please don't yell at her and please don't get harsh with her. Please just be gentle and give her some help and tell her it is okay (because she may be big but she is my baby that I didn't get to have as a baby!).

When Genea started first grade, things were much improved. So much, that I wondered if I should even talk to the teacher at all! But then I thought, well, I might be a little overconfident here. I might be seeing things through my Mom- eyes instead of reality- eyes. I decided to send the teacher an email and then I decided to share it here. It is always a struggle for me to decide what I should tell anyone about Genea's background. If it
is anyone elses business or not. But I guess I think of teachers in the same way as doctors, they need to know it all. Or at least most of it, in order to do their job. So here is the email.

Dear Ms S,

When we met the other day I mentioned I wanted to tell you a few things about Genea and did not want to do it in front of her, or all the other parents. Genea comes from Ukraine. She was adopted from an orphanage there when she was 15 months old by another family. She had a lot of medical and emotional needs that the other family was unable to handle, so they terminated their parental rights and my family adopted her 2 years ago. Obviously all this caused her huge trauma, and we are just now at a point where she has begun to recover. So I just wanted to let you know that bit of background. Genea might have reactions that seem strange, or disproportionate to the situations. She struggles with social skills, though that has improved. Mrs. E thought it would be important for you to know that she has a hard time concentrating and gets distracted very, very easily. I don't remember exactly what Mrs. E used, I am sure you could ask her, but she would separate Genea and try to minimize the distractions in order that Genea could get her work done. Although it looks like she has a raging case of ADHD, it is actually something called "hypervigilance". She constantly monitors her environment for changes, sounds, people, and activity.

Genea is a smart child and she is helpful and considerate. She is a loving, wonderful girl, and is trying so, so hard to overcome her challenges. She adores school and for the most part will appear just like all the other kids. She has some sensory involvement, you might notice if you touch her arm she will rub it when you look away. Her speech pattern is a continued concern for me and if you could direct me to who I might bring those issues up with I would appreciate it. After classes get going that is, I am positive you are heinously busy right now!Anyway, if you have any questions or are interested in more information, please feel free to let me know. Thank you so much.

As it turned out for kindergarten there could not have been a better teacher. She loved her job and all the kids. She was gentle and loving and enthusiastic. Structured and scheduled. She knew how to ease transitions, teach to all the different learning styles and how to be firm. Brilliant! I want Teena to have her to!

Suspicious.....

Once in a while, someone in my home does something just a little bizarre. They might have done something odd and don't know how to fix it, or something icky they don't know how to cover up. Then we have mysteries. And within our mysteries, we often have a single reporting passerby. It tends to be one particular bystander who notes the oddity that has occurred, and notes the oddity with surprise. Hmmmm. Here is an example.

About a year ago we were all at my parents house for the weekend. We had just arrived and were unpacking our stuff. Genea somehow enticed The Husband to the bathroom and I hear her say "Oh no look Daddy! How did that happen?" Genea has all the acting ability of a roommate on "Three's Company" and so right away my mommy-radar perked up. Quickly, I am summoned to the bathroom. Standing next to the toilet with her eyes bugging out of her head is Genea, and she is trying with all her will to look shocked and perplexed as to the situation. Which the situation is, there is a toothbrush floating around in the toilet. Haaaaa ha ha, I am laughing just writing this and remembering. She tried so very very hard to make us believe that the toothbrush just appeared in the potty and that either:
a. no one put it there or
b. it put its own self there
Either way, she had not a clue as she was simply being a good Samaritan and calling 911 on behalf of the toothbrush.

Well folks, I have no acting ability either. Despite spending at least one solid second trying to look stern and serious, I busted out laughing hysterically and told Genea to pluck that toothbrush back out of the toilet. I knew she had not thrown it in there on purpose (toothbrushes only go on the sink, that is where they go and not anywhere else, storing them in the toilet would be a change and we do not do change) but in there it was and it had to come out. We would throw it away of course and nobody was in trouble but it did need to be removed and we knew she had accidentally knocked it in there. BAH gaaaaaWWaaaaaaahhhh Wahh AAaaa commence meltdown and her Daddy was kind enough to reach in there and get it out for her, using various tools that did not involve his hands touching anything.

So this weekend when Genea appeared in the kitchen with me, out of nowhere to report that she smelled poop in her room, my mommy-radar again fired up. She had that same look of WOW HOW WEIRD to smell poop in my room! She had that same tone of HOW COULD THAT BE in her voice intended to convey her innocence, indeed her shock and horror. I mentioned that I personally thought it would be most odd for there to be a smell of poop in her room unless it were *ahem* temporary. No, no no, Mama, she insisted, you really better go smell for yourself.

Not interested in Genea's suggestion, I made a suggestion of my own. Genea, I said, why don't you go in your room and look around and see if you can figure out what is making the room smell like poop. Happy she was, to bounce off and go poop- smell- hunting and sure enough within minutes, the source was found!!!! I KNOW!!!! YOU HAVE to be AS SURPRISED as I was!!!! The GLAMOUR of parenting!!!

Sure enough, there were 2 tiny little turds on the floor of the girls bedroom. I inspected them.... briefly. Wondered for a second....never mind. Thought about trying to figure out.... oh to hell with it. Got a ball of paper towels and cleaned it up. Genea never looked so relieved in her life.

And me, well sometimes I think there is more benefit to leaving things go. Lying, manipulating, and hygienic nuclear fallout, these are not good things. But not everything has to lead to a confrontation, a lesson and a consequence. Sometimes I think it is better to just go with the flow and move on.

Who would do such a thing?

No, okay, it is not on par with Mackenzie Philips telling yet another story verifying that her brain is totally lacking of an "off" switch. But for me, this is a big. I made brownies. Before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, you should know that Duncan Hines did most of the work. I added water and stirred. I don't have a brownie pan though so I make do with a pie plate from some clearance aisle somewhere. My cooking however, is not the unbelievable thing here.

Exhibit A: Brownie pan on the counter with foil covering and protecting remaining brownies.



Exhibit B: Evidence I clearly should never have gotten married.

Seriously. Was this a suicidal gesture? Is the man responsible for this expecting to be killed?

This is how I live people. Its ugly but it is true.

No glamour. No glory. No brownies.

And one sick and puking kid, with one on the verge.

What I learned... Stealing

I went to the Beyond Consequences Certified Instructor Training a little over a week ago and thought I would share some of the things I learned. One specific thing that I was interested in was the subject of stealing. Now, I don't have a shoplifter or a kid who takes money. What I have is a kid who once in a while takes things that are not hers and hides them (actually, she has not done that in a long time but she used to). What I wanted to know was what is the best way to handle stealing/taking when the moment is long gone? If I catch her in the act or shortly after, that is one thing. But catching it and having no idea when it occurred is different. So, I asked.

With BC (Beyond Consequences) you are working from the assumption that all negative behavior evolves from fear. Likewise, if you take a behavior on the surface that shows as anger or manipulation and work backwards through all the emotions that could be causing the outward behavior, what is left is fear. The "high" a kid gets from stealing is their attempt to override the fear and anxiety they feel. The child is trying to regulate themselves. So even if you weren't there when it happened and all you know is your kid has a fairy princess crown that you did not give, you address the fear.

First you have to make sure you are not all pissed off and shooting stress everywhere. Don't think about your kid going to jail and having to talk to her through glass on some nasty lice infested phone. Don't project how embarrassed you will be when the 17 year old manager of Walgreen's approaches you as you notice lumps of candy cascading out of your child's pants. Don't worry about having to pay thousands of dollars in fines and court costs in the future. Just sit with your kid and stay in the moment that you are in. You can ask the kid what happened and you might be surprised with the truth, but don't be surprised if you do not get it. Then you say something to the effect of "I am so sorry I was not there for you when you needed me". See, this is reacting to the underlying fear and when you have a scared child you want to be there for them. Sound hinky? Try it and see.

From my view (so do not blame Heather Forbes for this) here on down, if the behavior is about control, manipulation, trying to get away with something etc, using that reaction is a great way to undercut the power struggle. Instead of amping the control up higher and higher, you are effectively whacking out the legs from under all the usual reactions. Then you can cut a new pathway in the brain to create a different cycle or pattern.

But wait! What about the consequences? You can't just let the kid get away with this! No, of course not. But issuing a harsh consequence does what..... makes the kid try harder not to get caught next time. You have your kid go return the fairy princess crown to the original owner. But here is the good part- you go with her and help her through it. She will be scared and worried and probably freaking out inside and you will be there helping her through it, imprinting yourself within the fear and its recovery. Aha! New pathway in the brain! Connection!

So, what do you all think? Does it sound too easy? Or like a great technique that you are going to try at your next stealing event? Or does it not make any sense and I need to explain more? Let me know!

Oops!

Aaaaand, this Mom here, I forgot to add on my list on the last post. This here is BT, who has been hanging around for a while now, and very sneakily decided to start her own blog. She has found that she now understands how people get so excited about followers and comments LOL!
If I forgot anyone on the official blogroll over down on the right, please speak up because as should be obvious, I miss things on occassion.

http://findingourwaytofamily.blogspot.com/

Blogroll updates

Ok, I did it. A few new people popped up that I never knew of! So go check them out and leave a comment if the spirit moves you.

Really new bloggers:

http://stellarparenting.blogspot.com/
http://accidentaladvocate.blogspot.com/
http://wechoseadoption.blogspot.com/
http://mamadrama-timestwo.blogspot.com/

And, if you had been following Tricia at http://lifeingoland.blogspot.com/ she changed the name of something and all of her followers dropped off. Disaster!!! So follow the link and copy it or whatever. I had to delete my old links to her entirely and start over. I am guessing there is an easier way but I sure don't know it.

Happy Monday!

Re-tali-aAAAA- tion

Well, I knew it would come. Genea has really been on a roll since I got back home and doing great. On the surface. She has been pleasant and considerate and helpful. Fun and funny. Calmer, tranquil (sort of). However.



As with all things Genea, don't count your happy chickens before they hatch, or blow their way out of their shell. She has invented a new way of torturing me in particular. Because she knows how important my sleep is to me (yeah, ok I know it is not a plot against me but I swear to you that is how if feels!) . I just. do . not. do. well. without my sleep!


Early Monday morning (remember, I came home from my trip Sunday) Genea is standing in my doorway at 3 AM hissing "Mama..... Mama........ Mama?" Finally I realize that it is not a crummy dream, she is actually standing there and so I ask what is wrong. She says her tummy hurts and I invite her to come and lay with me. She does. But after about 10 minutes, she leaves because she cannot usually fall sleep in my bed. You see, it is not her bed. And if she is going to sleep, all other things being the same as yesterday, it has to be in her bed. Same goes for me in her bed btw, if I make like I am going to lay down with her, she gets all whipped up about me having my own bed and going to it. LOL!




Tuesday morning (middle of the night) was a special one. 3 AM and here she comes. "Mama..... Mama..... Mama.....". What, Genea. (put down your coffee warning) She says, my butt itches. Ok, I am still trying to stay asleep, desperately, and get into this as little as possible so I make a critical mistake.... I tell her we will put lotion on it in the morning. No, Mama, we should do it now, my butt itches now. I muttered some crap about it won't work through the fabric of her jammies if we do it now and somehow she accepts this, and back to her own bed.



Wednesday afternoon I decided to have a little talk with her about this new attack on my sleep. A little talk that included phrases like "never again" and the like. See, I am out of patience quick on this since I am so danged tired. I really tried to be kind and even asked her if she was scared when I was gone so now she needs to check to be sure I am there. No, was the answer. Definitely not. Very certain of that. (Too bad kid, cuz I would have been much more accommodating for that one!)



Thursday morning. I hear Genea crying in the bathroom, about 4 AM. Trying uselessly to hang on to my sleep I asked The Husband what was going on. Turns out Genea listened to me, and did not wake me up. Instead, she stood at the door whispering..... "Daddy..... Daddy..... daddy...". Even in my attempts to stay unconscious, I saw the uproarious humor in that one. The problem du jour was that she had gone to the bathroom and said she could not get her diaper back on.



Now for anyone that is thinking, well you crummy parents, she probably DID have a problem getting her diaper back on. That has to be hard to do, especially in the middle of the night! Jerks! Lousy people! Poor little girl! So if you are thinking that, let me tell you a fun story.

On Wednesday morning, not six months ago but this very weeks same Wednesday morning, Genea made a big point of telling The Husband that her overnight diaper was dry! Woo hoo! Party on dude! High 5's were passed around. Until The Husband noticed a wet diaper was on the floor. Yeah, ewww is right. Turns out this child is a diaper changing savant when she is trying to put one over on you. And mind you, there is nothing to be gained or lost. We still use nighttime diapers and we do not care. There are no prizes for a dry one and no mention of wet ones. So she is like Rain Man driving the Cadillac (or whatever it was) when she woke up and whipped off the wet one and flipped on a dry one lickety split to pull her scam. Only she left her evidence on the floor.

Thursday we had many discussions about cranky parents who get no sleep and children who continue to want and need things from their parents. Cause and effect girls. You want 'fill in the blank'. Your parents are tired and do not have the energy to get you 'fill in the blank'. Why are your parents tired? Mmmm hmmm, yup yup. So what are you going to do next time? Mmmm hmmm, good idea, stay in your bed and don't wake anyone up.

Friday morning what happened? Who is wondering? Who thinks our great supportive, encouraging and interactive reciprocal parenting technique has been successful? Right around 4 AM, who was sleeping and who wasn't? Well, we all would have been sleeping evidently were it not for a certain owee hurting a certain child. What turned out to be an invisible phantom owee. Not her fault. The owee flared up then disappeared prior to sunrise.

aaaaargh tired ssrrrrrreeeaeeeeeeeeeet irritated gaaalooooooooooo screaming grrrrrrrrr !!!!!

Blogroll updating

Hey again all y'all (I think I used that incorrectly in my last post). I am updating all my stuff around here and am going to finally tweak up my blogroll.
Anyone want to be on it? Just leave a comment with your url.

Likewise if you want to be removed, let me know that too.
(I don't know why you would, but thought I should offer).
(I have been known to use *ahem* bad words and have a poor *cough* attitude, my sense of humor is not for everyone)!