Sunday, March 29, 2009

It's Mad Cow Disease

The Husband thinks we all have the flu. But since it is my scholarly and experiential opinion that he is always wrong, it must be Mad Cow Disease that I have. I am not a doctor but I watched 'er' for a really long time and I also watch 'House'. I feel like my brain has been turned into a sponge by visiting alien worms along with the logically following dementia. I think its logical. If it isn't, take it up with the cows. Or the worms.

Okay, I might be exaggerating. It's probably Irritated Bovine Disease. Or Pissed Off Dairy Disease. I am serious about the dying part though. However no one seems to care. I counted my comments. Very few people care that I am dying compared to the huge number of people who are evidently fascinated by insects and traveling pee. Uh huh. Don't try to sneak in a caring comment after the fact either. They are dated and time stamped. It is too late.

Genea went to another kids party this weekend. It was the sister of her friend across the street. This time I dumped her at the door and ran (my time has come!!!!). We have all been so sick all week we had nothing to give this poor child for a gift and no one could get themselves up or moving enough to go to a store without losing consciousness. So The Hub went to McDonalds drive thru and bought a bunch of gift cards and I had a little make your own jewelry box thing to decorate that I bought a while back to do with the girls. It went to the party girl instead. I keep a box of generic birthday cards around for just such an occasion. I think greeting cards are huge useless wastes of money. Especially for a kid we barely know. What kid reads the damn card? Only when the parent is snapping a rubber band on their arm to make them do it. I don't care about cards. I don't want them and I try not to give them out either. Here, take the $3.00 bucks the stupid card costs and pay some tolls.

Genea has been on a tear to end all tears the past few weeks. I don't even have the energy left to describe her. Madonna is apparently adopting a 4 year old little girl (named Mercy- how cute is that!). You go Madge.

Usually I write up a post then I go back over it later to check on it and then I "publish" it. Sometimes, they try to publish themselves when I am not looking. So once in awile a post goes up before it is ready and I take it down as soon as I catch it. I am certain this is user error, and should explain how people sometimes read a post and then it disappears.

Off to die now. Fingers are rigor mortissing.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Death Becomes Us

Huh. I was reading a bit on this here blog and the author says she often associates song lyrics and titles with what she is writing. It occurred to me that I do the same thing, only with the wide expanse of pop culture references available to me as a studied student of such.
All of which confirms my original suspicion, we have the Super Flu. Captain Trips. Read The Stand by Steven King. We will soon find out if we are among the lucky. Or not.
Lovely picture is our actual death bed. I have an old futon in front of an old tv. When one of the girls is sick I open it up and let them lay down. Yesterday, I was on it with Genea (middle). My right arm is prominantly featured next to Bailey. On the other side is Teena and you can just barely make out Boo Boo's ears over the top of the blanket at the edge. I cannot even die alone.
Eyes are closing....

Thursday, March 26, 2009

deathbed confessions 1-12

The death plague has come to Wisconsin. The sick that has gone around the country has landed here and attacked me, The Husband, and Genea. Teena is fine. So you can imagine how fun that is.
I have never had a sick that hurt my eyeballs. This must be what migraines feel like, the hospitalizing ones. Moving an eye causes searing pain and a bizarre trail of blinking light.
I'm close to death.
Weird thing, of course Genea has tactile defensive problems. If I rest my hand on her arm, she will move it. If her clothes or a blanket cover the spot she will last longer. She and I were watching TV and she crawled up on my lap. I put my arms around her and rested one hand on her tummy and the other on her side and she left them there! Big news in this part of the woods!
But, back to my impending death. I should take the opportunity to clear up a few things. Before, you know, the super creepy guy with the huge ass machete comes.

1. Yeah Mom, I did. I just never got caught. All of it.
2. I do think it is a big deal if your "number" is over 10.
3. #2 is about you. I am the one dying.
4. OK fine! I ate cookies on your side of the bed. Get over it. I also hid a box of pop tarts for myself. After I die you will never find them.
5. No, seriously, I don't pass gas. I don't care if everyone does, I am a medical miracle. That is a dying utterance and permissible in court. Therefore it is true.
6. Oh yeah, I inhaled. I had a storefront and a drive up window. I inhaled.
7. You remember that horrible knock down fight you and your husband had in front of us? That's why I never called you back.
8. I was one of the girls surprised to find out about the 3 holes down there.
9. Piss off and kiss my ass. I love "s"'s.
10. It wasn't an accident. I cut your Barbie dolls hair. And it was cool.
11. It was me that swiped the letters off your frat house. Shouldn't have moved in so close. Statute of limitations come and gone.
12. oh please Dad, if you didn't want us to steal your cigarettes you shouldn't have tried to hide them from Mom in the first place. We had you over a barrel.

It's late and I am tired. I have no way of knowing if this is funny or just strange. This sick is like having alien worms invade my brain. The alien worms think this is funny. Take it up with them.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The "L" word

Nope, not that "L" word

The "L" word that every parent fears. The "L" of nightmares and the heebie-jeebies. The one thing guaranteed to make your skin want to get up and crawl right off your body scooping off your hair from the top and using it to sweep up behind you. And you support the decision. Sounds like a good idea.

Here it is: lice

aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh run screaming nooooooooooowwww!!!!


Back in the fall of this school year, I answered the phone to a school nurse giving me a lengthy description of my child's head. In her description, she said things like, lice and nits and in her hair. The nurse must be an experienced one because she yammered on and on and barely gave me the opportunity to breathe let alone tell her how wrong she had to be. Because my children do. not. have. lice. ICK!!!! I know lice, ok. I have seen them take over a home and stop paying the bills. Lice chasing becomes a full time job for the whole family. And now there are immune lice. They don't care what toxins you soak them in. They will have friends over and stay up all night playing loud music and not even invite you.

As I tried to politely inform her there was no way this was happening, she continued to talk.

She said that she found nits, which are evidently the dead carcasses of eggs that hatched into babies. Babies that then apparently walked away. She said they were a few inches down in her hair so it appeared that Genea had had lice in the past that was treated, and left some nits.

Mmmm, no. Rest assured lady, that did not happen.
I would definitely remember.

I said well, Genea is adopted and only came to us last year. We hadn't cut her hair at all at that point. Must have been with the other family.

Mmmm, no, she said. Had to be in the recent past. Oh. ICK!!! So lady, what you are telling me is that some kid with a festering head transferred vermin to my little girl there in your school. Nope, I don't think so. Didn't happen.

MMMMmmm, ok , she said, you'll have to come and pick her up and treat her. She told me, she could not find any living bugs anywhere on Genea's head but we have to assume they are there, get the extermination supplies and treat her just in case some were still hiding. Having a party behind the left ear or something.

Ohhhh, man..... this is not good. I think she is serious. Awwww. Oh hell. For real. Now I am starting to think through the immediate future. I have Teena of course. I will have to get in the car to get Genea, teaming head full of insects and all. Do lice enjoy upholstery I wonder? They will all have to be in the back of the car together. No other way to do this. Then I realized not only was I stuck with this hot mess, I was functioning as a single parent that day as The Husband coincidentally scheduled himself a late night at work. VERY suspicious isn't it? Very.

So I am trying to figure out the logistics of this. I will have to go to a store to get the lice killer and manage these kids at the same time. Naw, they couldn't possibly want me in the store, could they? So I went to the drive thru pharmacy window and asked through the bank tubes, "can you sell me some lice killer here?". "No," she says "we're not allowed to do that", with a snot in her tone suggesting I had asked her to do something illegal. Ugh. You are not that important you twit. Fine.

Take the straps off my kids out of the car and into the store we go. Wouldn't you think something like lice killer would be right at the door? No. No signs pointing to "exterminate your kids head here" either. I got all the way across the store to the medicine aisle, and I can't find anything. Ugh! So I asked the Pharmacist on the inside. I would have been discrete, but her whole department had annoyed me from outside. So I loudly inquired as to where the lice remover would be. The Pharmacist recoiled, recoiled, mumbled something and pointed at the next aisle. Then she turned away and bolted around the corner of the drug shelf. You know, I think she had a lot of nerve to recoil. I mean, this woman hears about genital warts and moldy toes all day every day. She hangs out with noses of slime full of bacterial mucous every day and she is gonna run around the corner, with an attitude, about my little dead bugs?

Ok so I finally find the lice killing shampoo. Only there are like 5 different kinds. Well what the hell do I know about what I need to do here!!! This one comes with comb, this one you gotta buy the spray separate, etc. I am trying to compare prices and levels of pesticides, ounces to the bottles when I said to myself, Self, is this really a place you think is important to economize and find the cheapest one? No, Self, no. So I bought the biggest one with the most supplies. Genea and I, we spent like 19 hours with the shampoos and the combing and spraying the mattresses and washing potentially infested bedding and clothing. Ugh. And they were gone.

I still don't know where they came from. I know for a fact we never treated any. How they died is a mystery. As I have said, strange things happen in this house. If a plague of lice were to take over the government, it would be Genea's head that killed them off. I have been told, the lice do prefer clean hairs and straight highways. Genea's crazy rock star hair must have been too confusing ha ha. However that is an 'urban myth'. Lice love hair. Hair hair hair.

"I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy
Snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty
Oily, greasy, fleecy
Shining, gleaming, streaming
Flaxen, waxen
Knotted, polka-dotted
Twisted, beaded, braided
Powdered, flowered, and confettied
Bangled, tangled, spangled, and spaghettied!"
Please credit the above song lyrics "Hair" from the musical play and movie titled, "Hair".

My only other major experience with lice was when Teena was about 18 months old. Her day care had a lice scare. Now, Teena didn't even have hair until she was 3. but we brought her straight home anyway, and I had The Husband strip her down in the driveway and leave her clothes outside. I think her little dress is still out there. I scrutinized both of her hairs for several days but she remained clear.

This actually happened early in the fall. I started this post at the time but was too traumatized at the time to finish. It isn't the worst thing in the world. Lice happens. I would just prefer it not to. Not my idea of a good time!

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Easter Seals issue

Charities sometimes request household items be donated so they can be resold in a thrift store. In this case, they sent a flyer to our home asking us to put things to donate to the curb for pick up. We covered everything in black plastic bags and tied them so it would not all get wet.
Here is what happened. I wrote an email to the donation center with the photo attached.


I received a solicitation in the mail for donations. I replied on line for a pick up. Despite the rain, we put all of our donations to the curb well covered and ready to be picked up. I had no idea that my donations would be rooted through on the street, uncovered, cherry picked, and left. I guess I don't care if you did not want the items we donated, but it is incredibly rude to have opened bags, uncovered items, and left it all sitting open in the rain on the side of the road.The items are a memory foam mattress cover and a feather bed mattress cover. They are now soaked, heavy and ruined. Unable to be donated to people who might want them. Jackasses. See attached photo."
Now I received a prompt return message, and the writer does apologize. However, because of the rain, we checked on our stuff at the curb several times. No random wandering band of soggy bedding bandits was there when we looked. I guess it could have happened this way. I could be the lost Russian royal Anastasia too.
Here is the reply.

I want to sincerely apologize for the mistreatment of the donations you had prepared for us to be picked up today. Our driver, however, was not responsible for the uncovering and opening of the packages you had left out. We just spoke with him, and he stated that the donation appeared as it does in your attached picture when he stopped by this morning. We appreciate greatly the effort our donors put into getting their donations ready, and treat the donations we pick up with the utmost respect. Our programming depends on these donations, and our drivers are all very aware of how that should translate into their pickups. Unfortunately, we do occasionally have to deal with individuals that scour neighborhoods for items they can pick up for their personal use.

Again, thank you for your donation, and we are sorry that the effort you put into your donation was disrespected by whomever had stopped by this morning.

If you have any other questions or concerns, please feel free to reply to this e-mail or call us at the phone numbers listed below."
Anyone else have this happen? Its the first time they solicited donations from us so I really don't know. I liked to be able to put stuff out and they come and get it, but I would have been better off putting this all straight in the trash as it was!

Sunday, March 22, 2009

F-F-F- Fundraising

This here, is not gonna be a funny sort of laughing at myself and others kind of post. You can read some of my favorites past entries, the ones where I laugh to myself (for whatever reason) while I type.
An old one, my other favorite parenting style , my recent experience with yoga, or some fond family reflections .
Here goes.
You may have noticed some changes around here recently. I have put in several new features over there on the right.

May I just get straight to the point?

I want to go to the next level of Beyond Consequences training class in June. This one trains in much greater depth and certifies people to teach others how to implement the model. Here is where my new features come in. It is 14 hours of training that cost $495. And it is out west. Far out west. Now, I don’t object to the cost actually, it sounds like a great deal. And I love how the authors do SO much to help people for free.

However, I don’t have that much money. I don’t have money for the training, the flight, a hotel, food, and a car. I figure I will need about $1200 to do this. I will come away with the ability to earn an income. I will also learn in much greater detail how to best help my daughter, which I feel I desperately need. And then, to help other people in the same sinking boat to plug the holes, scoop the water, dry off and head to shore (that’s all I could think up).

I am not appealing for donations. I want to point out and explain some of my new features, so that if anyone were to want to help out my raising of funds, that person would be able to do so easily.

I have a link directly to Amazon. Com. If you want to do any online shopping, you can go straight to Amazon from here. It is the one blinking AMAZON over there on the right.

Also on the side, but down, is a list of the books I own that I use on a regular basis to help understand, or manage, or both, the daily activity of my children. You can purchase any of them for yourself by clicking on the pic.

I have installed 2 google search bars. One is just under my profile and the other is at the very bottom. If you need to search for anything, anything at all, you can do it right here (there).

Honestly, none of these are profitable. They are literally pennies and nickels. I am hoping that it will all add up, but only, obviously, if people use them.

My etsy store, is also on the side line there. I realize most people who read my blog are parents (poor), and adoptive parents (poor and who have recently shelled out 10’s of thousands of dollars). So if you know anyone having a baby or a second baby or adopting an older child, or who has a toddler, or your neighbor needs a gift, or is a grandma looking for a gift, or your co- worker is having a baby and your whole office wants to go in on something to economize, or if you just want to pretend that you worked your fingers to the bone, and knit this very special and precious gift yourself, go for it! In fact, if you like a particular style of blanket but not the colors, I can knit- to- spec, through the ‘alchemy’ tag on etsy.
So that is that.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Give Pee a Chance

Really awful, practically libelous, practically sacrilegious take, on "give peace a chance" (John Lennon tune).

I have a new idea. Our pee parties have returned. And Genea pee'd herself at school again. Took a nap, pee (on her own bed though- proud mama here). Nighttime pee. On and off the past several days and I don't think I can keep blaming daylight savings time anymore. I think I used that one up already. Also used up is her plastic mattress cover. I have it held together now with package tape (worst stuff on the planet that tape). I am guessing they are not meant to be battered for years on end.

(Now, what I am not saying, is how terrifying it is that Genea pee'd at school again. It is a huge, dramatic shift and a bad, bad sign. I actually wrote a whole post after the first time at school, that I have seen this happen with kids over and over. Once that barrier has been breached with these kids it is like a landslide. it just blows out. I erased the entire post because I did not want to project such a negative on to her, I did not want to jinx her. It didn't work. But I think she got a huge amount of mileage out of peeing at school from the teachers and such. I don't want to say it and I don't want to think it. Because this, my friends, is the land where borderline personality disorders marinate. )

She made it about a week having dry nights. Then, she has been on and off since. A few days ago I started waking her up before I go to bed and take her to the potty. That worked the first few days, then last night, not. But we are still trying.

So my idea is this. Take a break. Give it a rest. Take away all the pressure and give her a box of pull ups. I suspect her barbed wire brain has become overwhelmed on this and is misfiring signals of when to go, when to not go. I think the popular thought on this idea is that it confuses the kid to go back and forth with diapers/ undies. I think it is pretty clear she is already confused. We have a 3 day weekend and I will put a pull up diaper on her for naps and bedtime. I will even let her wear them all day if she wants to. We will take a break from all of it and let her brain rest and settle in. Not long, but a few days at least.

After this, I don't know. This is my last idea.

This added a few hours later. I just thought of a bed wetting alarm. I was looking on Amazon. I cannot possibly give my hypervigilant fearful sensitive child something that skewers her awake with loud sound, but there appear to be different brands and styles with light, and with vibration. I am wary of the vibration idea, for ahem, various reasons. I can't imagine what kind of light would wake her. If anyone has info or suggestions feel free to jump on in, 'the water's fine', (sorry I couldn't resist).

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

The Sweetest Thing

So tonite was all about the gourmet Wendy's. The Husband, being a nice guy, got the girls the Wendy's version of a happy meal. It comes with fries, a frosty, milk, cd with games, oh yeah and the cheeseburger. No pickles.

Strange things happen frequently in this house. People fall for no reason. Knock into a wall. Hit heads coming up from a table 3 consecutive times. Teena tonite, sitting on her chair, suddenly and without reason, fell off her chair. She landed on the floor, splat, face first. I think she was unable to brace her fall because she was trying to protect the frosty that was occupying her hand.

It was unsuccessful.

The sadness in her howl was palpable. And piercing. And there was frosty everywhere. Although, oddly, the frosty cup remained upright and intact.

The Husband said, "Genea could you......." and Genea interrupted to say "I am going to", and proceeded to take the cap off of her frosty to share with Teena. Wow.


Tuesday, March 17, 2009

I Don't Make It Up

I have said this before, but here it is again. I do not make this stuff up.

Remember how my MIL seems to be confused as to my purpose in life. You can read about the past few "gifts" presented to me here and from Christmas here.

My husbands family are Hallmark Fanatics. Multiple cards are sent to us for everything. There is no holiday too obscure or invented outright, and especially now that the children are here, we will always get a big box in the mail. The most recent box was a St Patricks Day box. It contained candy and greeting cards some silly hats and other stuff. The MIL is a "day after shopper", and often tells of her adventures in saving money in the dust of last years clearance racks.

Why yes, that little post note says "For cookies or playdough".
Buuuuh wwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaahh WTF AAAAAAAAAAhhhhh
for AHHHHHH any one AHHHHHHHHHHH WTF!!!!!!!!!!!
And for the record, there is one thing in this world (so far) that my children are not allowed to enjoy with me in the house. After working for years with small children, I cannot stand it anymore. For those of you People of the Floor who know me from In Person, all together now, what is the one thing I really can't stand at all? The one thing that has a distinctive smell so much so that I can discern different brands from across a room without looking at a label?
Playdough. It makes me sick. And the stench settles into your skin worse than a garlic onion steam facial. So of course in our little holiday box was a variety pack of about 8 different play doughs. Gag. Hurl. Scream.
Here is Genea last week. We were downstairs for the evening when she crawled onto our old papasan chair. She was talking to us when all of a sudden, *poof* she fell asleep. Assassinater of Peace struck again.

Awfully darn cute though.

See, I don't make it up. I have enough real life material for the next 10 years.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Assassinater of Peace

Assassinater of Peace is my new term, my new more accurate descriptive phrase, to label daylight savings time. Daylight Savings of Death and Doom was my other idea. You can use it if you want.

I have one extremely sensitive child. She could probably have an entire alphabet after her name if I were to ever bother totalling up all of her diagnosis. Not to mention the several I have personally added with no professional medical or neurological authority to do so.

So this Assassinater of Peace pushes time forward in order that there will be longer hours of sunlight in the summer. Cleverly disguised as something useful, it actually forces me to get up an hour earlier, and anything that negatively affects my sleep in any fashion, is something to be derided. Beyond that though, I never paid much attention to any of it. Until a short bundle of joy tip toed through the daisy's lining the cobblestones of the path on her toe walking feet and crashed into my front door. And this little bundle of joy, does not like things that change.

I know full well I have mentioned this before. But changed things continue to happen in this world despite all attempts to spin it my way, to Genea's way. No one appears to be listening.

May a rabid dog carry his wee wee through an alligator swamp and deposit it in a den of wolves. While there appear to be several people credited with inventing this stupid idea, one thing for sure is that the inventor was not a woman. Women, invent useful things. Like White Out.

Although this Assassinater of Peace Daylight Savings junk professes to only affect ONE hour, upon the end of the first day, Genea did not go to sleep until after 11 pm. She overslept 3 of 4 days. Her hard fought and won ability to avoid oceanfront bedding disappeared. And the wango tango visited us all. week. long. Sleeping on the floor and peeing to the carpet. Peeing on the rug I put over the stain on the carpet. Hyper vigilance at its height. No ability to self regulate. No ability to occupy herself. And perhaps the most frightening of all, a full pant pee accident at school.

Two new problems have perked up this past week. The first, is trying to hide or lie about peeing the bed. We never want anyone to hide urine stains, we want to clean them. This is a very bad sign and I am trying desperately to put an end to it. Stuff a cork in it. ACK!!!

The other is a food related problem. Asking for specific food and then refusing to eat it. And stealing food, taking one bite, then trying to 'hide' it in the trash. We don't try to make her eat, not because we are kind and supportive and rich parents, but because if you tell Genea she has to finish her food, she will. And then she will vomit. All of it.

She wins.

Of course, you would have to blow up the Barbie camper for Teena to notice anything, so she has been just fine. She announced one day this past week that she was going to get married, so she and Genea walked around with big towels on their heads as veils. Teena decided she is going to marry me. Genea thought that sounded good to her too. I pointed out that I was already married to Daddy but no one cared. Teena later thought she might need to have a boy for this, but was trying to find a way to only minimally involve one, so as to not bother me. Good girl.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Whoop whoop!

Wow, this is my lucky week! I have been nominated for a Lemonade Award by Cristy at !!!!!

This is very exciting for me, as I have coveted these little awards for months now! And a great boost, to be honest. I have seen these awards on other peoples blogs all over the place and never got one before this week. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket too!

Here it is:

Cute, isn't it?

Here are the instructions---
1. Copy the above logo and put it on blog or post.2. Nominate at least 10 blogs that show attitude and/or gratitude (Those who add sweetness to life and/or inspire you by making lemonade.)3. Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.4. Let them know they have received this award by commenting on a post.5. Nominate your favorites and link to this blog. I shrank these on purpose. Once in awhile I can use a blogger tool intentionally too LOL!

So here are my peeps! These are all the people with blogs who make the best stinking lemonade ever. Some with vodka, some with tranquilizers, some with rusty water. Not coincidentally, these are the people who comment on my blog the most. You could say they add the sugar. Or the lemons. Or whatever.

The Hoover Mom
Rachael (thanks for the instructions on how to hyperlink lol!)
Annie (hoping this works) (Southern)
Linda B
Annie (Northern)

Now my puter is running out of power, so I will be back later to post to every one's blogs their nominations. Some people already have this award, but that's ok. You never got one from The Accidental Mommy before! (but you don't have to do all the stuff, just know you are appreciated!).

Friday, March 13, 2009

er- the show, not us

I wasn't feeling it.

I started watching the show "er" when the pilot aired on TV some 15 years ago and I immediately loved it. I loved the plot lines, the chemistry, the medical aspect, the actors, the camera work, the setting in Chicago, all of it.

I have been with "er" longer than I have been with my husband.
I have been with "er" through moves to more than 10 different cities.
I have been with "er" longer than I have fit into any one size of jeans.
I have been with "er" long enough to know when the divorce had to happen that the time had come. The break up was hard, painful, and there was much backsliding if I am going to be honest. The final death- blow to the relationship was when the last original doctor was whisked away to Africa. The plot lines practically decomposed and the chemistry between the actors fizzled and it all flopped around like a dying fish on the floor.

I was looking forward to the last few episodes as the series is at an end. There have been promises of return visits by all the doctors and all the original cast. Of course, Dr. Greene was dead, so not him. But even George Clooney put in an appearance as Dr Doug Ross on the episode last night. (This may explain why he was unable to attend my after hours award party in Los Angeles a few weeks ago, but it does not forgive). And I gotta' say, it just didn't work for me.

Dr Benton was back, and his relationship with Dr Carter had it's old pizazz. The old Doug and Carol storyline, which was so powerful for so many of the first few years, was resolved and showed them living happily ever after. Kind of an old boring married couple.

Just, ya' know, a fizzler. Normally I wouldn't spend a whole post on a TV show, but this one has been one of the only constants in my life for the past decade and a half! It was emotional, and it had its moments. It got good ratings and the message boards I read had most people happy and satisfied.

It felt like a reunion. Like a reunion of all the boys who ever dumped me without explanation. Nice to see them, sure. Right, ok I am so totally over it, it has been years, but I would still want to hear why. I don't actively care anymore and haven't cared for forever, but I am willing to sit for an hour and listen to your story. That's how it felt. And the explanation was, hmmm, I guess the word 'flat' describes it. Bluh.

Well there are a few ep 's left. We shall see.

Thursday, March 12, 2009


Dooo do do DOOOOO!!!!! (that is supposed to be like horns blaring)
This is very exciting for me! I have been given this award 2 times, one each from :
The amazing and brilliant Lisa
AND, the from the brilliant and amazing
The Dardos Award is given in "recognition of cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values transmitted in the form of creative and original writing. These stamps were created with the intention of promoting fraternization between bloggers, a way of showing affection and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web."

The rules:
1) Accept the award by posting it on your blog along with the name of the person that has granted the award and a link to his/her blog.
2) Pass the award to another five blogs that are worthy of this acknowledgment, remembering to contact each of them to let them know they have been selected for this award.

I seem to be completely unable to make a link with any finesse whatsoever, so here are the full links: You my dear, are the Big Mom. The Madea if you will. You are the one who always checks in and I see you digging out new-to- blogging- moms all the time who are facing the same unusual struggles as we are, gently kicking and shoving us all 'into the light' (all the while with no curse words). I don't care if I am not supposed to do it this way. Too bad. An almost ph.d with dyslexia from England living in Taiwan with her newly adopted daughter, teaching English and learning Chinese, what more do I need to say? oh my unholy hell, I had to sit down and read this blog all the way through one day, laughing so hard with tears streaming down my face my stomach actually hurt. I had to take a break in the middle to recover. Talk about making the net a better place! of course this is the woman who got me going in the first place. She is my intimidation, I have never even commented but she gets anywhere from 800 to 20,000 comments on any given post so she might not notice anyway! Definitely Rachael ! She keeps me from forgetting what normal is supposed to look like!
So there you go. At the risk of sounding like a dumbass at the Academy Awards, this really does mean a lot to me! I have noticed peoples awards and have never gotten one before. Then, I got 2 at the same time- wooo hooo! Made my day. Seriously!
THANK YOU!!!!!!!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

If they can send a man to the moon,

If they can send a man to the moon, why, why, does nothing work to minimize my pores? Seriously. You could go swimming in there.

Monday, March 9, 2009

I Can't Remember

So, years ago I was reading an article about Marie Osmond and how she has many children. Some adopted and some biological. And when people asked her who was who, she would say "I can't remember". I thought that was so cool and a great line. Part of the article discussed adoption and unthinking comments people can make. The point being I think, that all her children were her children and there was no distinction in her mind regarding how anyone appeared in her home.

When The Husband and I were first getting into the process of this adoption, we were handed huge stacks of old faded copies of information to read. Our agency was not the best so a lot of it was repetitive, or outdated. However there was a cord that ran through all of the binders that said, yours and your child's adoption is none of any one's business. Some folks may ask intrusive questions such as "which one is your real child?" and they gave a canned answer for you in case of iffin' you couldn't think of any, to say um, both my children are real did you think they were plastic? It was certainly insinuated that as an adoptive parent, it was somewhat of a duty to have a sassy remark at the ready and to clear up, one meddling person at a time, that questions such as ''was it expensive or did you get a discount" are not appropriate. You must carry this torch and do your part. Aggressively if need be. Okay, count me in.

Yesterday on one of the silly Hollywood TV ahem, 'news' shows, a woman is claiming to be a child of Jerry Lewis. The chippy lady 'reporter' said, he has 6 children all boys, and an adopted daughter. My radar immediately went up, ding ding ding, they shouldn't have said that! Prejudicing comment. Incorrect use of language. Discriminatory use of terminology. They should have said ol' Jer has 7 children and left it at that. Call the PC police. Schedule a protest. Schedule an adoption pride parade immediately following the protest.

That got me to thinking (ack! lol), but wait, if I say things like I can't remember then isn't that saying by default being born here is best or better? If the comment is meant to neutralize the question, when some dipshit asks me who is real and who is adopted, and I tell them I don't know, or they both are real then isn't there a hint that if I won't say who is adopted then being adopted must be second best? Or that being biological is second best from the other side? If my kids hear me not saying all the time, won't they think something is wrong and it must be one of them? I understand there is no good answer to the question especially when you have several children. You don't want to stand there going 'her, and her and him are the real ones". When your family is made up of visually different cultures then that is another level of rudeness. And I think it is rude for people to ask. Really rude. But sometimes I tell people who is who. There is nothing to hide nor be ashamed of. I am proud of both my girls and how they got here. Then I change the subject.

Sometimes I say, one was a gift and one we picked special! We got the best of both! I try to emphasize that both girls arrived in a special way, but I also firmly believe it. If I say I can't remember, doesn't that take away the specialness of both children as individuals? I don't think adoption is something to hide and I want both of my girls to know it and live it. Being the birthed one isn't the better or the worse either.

Then, where I might actually want to 'educate' people or carry the torch is to nudge and say, you can do it too- see? There is nothing special about me and nothing special about you either. You can adopt a child with special needs or older or with medical problems too. See? Here is mine, and she has no horns. Yeah it's hard, a lot of shit is hard. So? It doesn't take a 'very special person', that is an excuse people use that is code for, thank god you did it so I don't have to. 'I could never do that' is the excuse for ugh, I don't want to.

Someday, and someday soon, I will be turning the responsibility over to my girls themselves. They will tell people whatever the heck they want. They will probably make mistakes in judgement and they will hopefully learn from it. They will probably make some stuff up and lie to tweak peoples nerves or check their reactions for fun. They can tell people they are twin aliens if they want to.

These are my thoughts today. I would love to hear what other people think! There are FAR more educated and experienced people than me out there and I would love to hear how you handle intrusive questions and why and what your thought process is. Happy Monday.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

thats MRS Dumb- Bum to you

My head hangs low as I type, preparing to confess to about the dumbest mom mistake ever. Weakly, I offer the protest that it was with good intention. I meant well. Sigh. If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, lay me down cross ways over the path.

The Pee- Free Wonder Girl asked for something special today. Well actually last night, and I told her she could do it today. This kid of mine has pee'd only in designated pee receptacles, still, since last Friday. Amazing. Earth Shattering really.

I., uh, oh man.


Can we keep this just between us?

Don't tell anyone ok?

Uhh. I let her....

I let her

I let her take a nap in my bed.
I got nothing else to say.

Picture is worth a thousand words

Am I getting that old saying right? A picture is worth a thousand words? Well, I don't have a thousand, but maybe a few.
This is a picture of Genea having lunch. On this particular day, she was desperately trying to keep herself in the good and out of trouble. She wanted something, to go to her friends house I think. Genuine smile there hey? Looks like her face is gonna' crack. Yikes!
So since she is being calm and quiet, our cat for the very first time, went to share her seat. This is Boo Boo, cat of compulsions and habits. He is a cranky old man these days.
The jade colored can has sugar in it. The Husband insists, insists, that no one will eat the generic uncolored undyed un- sugar- bombed toy-less and fun-free cereal that I buy without adding heaps of sugar. He considers it child abuse to even consider presenting it to our children as food. Naturally he left the can on the table from earlier. Or even the night before. Oh, and btw, the kids do too eat it, and naked. I mean the cereal is naked, not them.

Our handy dandy dust- buster sits on the floor next to the table. Actually it lays on the floor closest to Teena's chair. Cuz that is where most of the busting needs to happen. If my children were vacuums, they would be Dyson and Dirt Devil. Guess who is who lol.
And, my favorite part of the picture is the ginormous tower of paper on the right. It starts in the little white bin on the bottem. These are Genea's papers from school. Seriously. Every single day we have a minimum of 5 papers, and up to 15 or so on occassion. Art projects, practice sheets, newsletters, notes from the teacher. Market Day catalogs, book catalogs, mini- books, hats and hat bands. Every day when Genea gets home we go through her back pack and pull out all the papers they sent. Unless I directly need it, it all goes into the pile. She is the Princess of Pack Rats this kid, do not dare even hint that you are not going to treat her precious piece of important, crucial to the continuation of life, crap like a piece of crap. She would be crushed and the sound of her howl will echo in your ears until the end of your days. OH- and this pile is only from December. After the first semester, and after I realized how much paper would be coming home, I told her to pick a few things, 2 or 3, that were important to her to save and we were going to pitch the rest. Genea being Genea, (ie, don't try to find the logic, just go with it) she didn't want any of them. Sure, just huck them all. (although now that I am thinking about it, I bet she took one look at Junk Tower and thought, hell no I am not going to spend my whole day on that!)
Yes, I have silly placemats that feature catsup and hamburgers. They were on clearance at Target. The glass is from my Fiesta Ware collection. I had 8 of the small and 8 large in chartreuse. I now have 5 and 4 left. Oh well, who needs it. I am sure college will be less expensive in the future and we won't need these investments. (YES, they are TOO investments, just like my handbags)I am continuing my other investment strategy in curios from Dollar Tree, where I have much more to show for my money than any silly stock.

Monday, March 2, 2009

WHY? Why? why?.....why?......wh..

2 steps forward, 497 back.

Since Genea has rather abruptly decided pull- ups are for babies, she has not dispensed of urine in any way other than the expected general way. That is to say, she be peein' in the potty.

However, it appears that we only get one. The universe has decided that in this house, we only get one good thing. And if we get one good thing, we have to give up a separate good thing in order to balance out. Being as the universe evidently has a sick sense of humor (psychotic jerkoffed basta'd, whatever), we are not people who move up. We stay. Lateral moves only. This is better than moving down, and yet, I yearn for more (ok I can use the word in a sentence but not so much on the spelling). See, it's the kind of thing where if I win $50.00 on a lottery ticket, I will get a $50 ticket for parking in an unmarked fire lane while I go to cash it.

Since all of Genea's powers are being sent to her bladder these days, her ability to oh I don't know, approximate any sort of behavior similar to the socially acceptable or at least inoffensive neurotypicals, shoots off everywhere else. The biggest thing to go is staying quiet until 7 am. Stealing food, rude, snotty, lying, lying again, breaking rules and making sure I see her, all the fun stuff. Gagging on her food, binging her drink, need want need want. Howling, wailing, instigating, forcing attention to herself, deliberate opposition, etc. Right, this all sounds like stuff all kids do. The difference is that a regular kid will have regular moments in between all the wild stuff. The difference is in the duration, the frequency and the severity and she topped out all categories, yay!

WHY can't she have both, WHY??? Why can't she stay quiet until 7 AND have a dry butt? She can stop herself from pee-ing but not from calling out at 5 am progressively louder and more agitated until she is having a full blown meltdown and we haven't even started the day yet. WHY?

The good news is, Genea has not wet the bed or used a pull up since Friday! Woo Hoo- take your prizes where you can get 'em!

She will get it together, I know this. It won't take long and she will be just fine. I just hate to see her regress like this. It takes her 3 times the energy as other kids, every little step is a colossal battle for her. She can't take on something as big as staying dry all night and not let a few things out in between, it is just so hard for her. I wish it wasn't.

Sunday, March 1, 2009


A dry night again.

(is it awful that I am thinking what else can I attack with this momentum?)
(well so be it lol)


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