Something fun

I have my girls in summer school, which around here goes for about a month. It is in the morning and lasts until noon. At which point I become responsible for them again. Again! (I mean, didn't I just take care of them yesterday?)

Since all indications are pointing to visits from The Crazy, tantrums, fits, and the rage of all those who are not getting their way, versus those who are not playing right, I decided to take a different approach instead of my usual approach of screaming. Sigh. I am going to be considerably more assertive in deciding what they do. Aggressive even. No arguments. Here is our fun thing to do now shut up, smile and have fun doing it.

No, not really. But as I thought up a few things I thought, well maybe I will share them and maybe other people will share some ideas too. Because folks, it is going to be a looooong summer. Looooooong. It already has been loooooong. And there is more coming. (Lets face it, summer vacation is the Department of Educations way of keeping us down. Its their loving little way of saying EFF YOU parents! Quit your complaining about accurate state capitals and spelling of vegetables! Or we will make these breaks even longer! There will be more! Arbor Day vacation! No child will be left behind!)

Okay, to the point already. This little fun thing occupied my kids for about a half hour and they had a blast. I decided to teach them coins and so I laid out 4 coins on a piece of paper and wrote the number value next to them and we went over and over the names of each. Quickly I realized 4 coins was too many. Ahem. So, we went to the penny and nickel since they are more obviously different. I grabbed a pile of loose change out of The Husbands coat pockets and hid it behind a notebook. The girls sat across from me with their little coin banks. I showed a coin over the top of the paper and they had to call it out, whatever it was, and the first kid to get it right got to keep it and put it in their bank. I would flip it over the top of the notebook and they had to grab it. Then we switched it up and used quarters and dimes. Loads of fun, made them happy, and they quit the complaining for over 30 minutes! And they got them some educatin'!

Share! Share and linkback if you have something fun, easy, simple, fun and time consuming.

Ranting on the news this week

Michael Jackson is dead and as I am inundated, of my own accord, with information on his life and death I keep coming across the same series of comments from way too many sources.


And it is pissing me off.

What I keep hearing, and reading, is in regards to the biological heritage of Jackson's 3 children. Of them, there is general agreement that there is an identified biologic mother of the oldest 2. The original source of the full products of conception is in question, in the opinion apparently of journalists, for whom it is none of their damn business. Or anyone else's.

STOP SAYING THOSE 3 KIDS "MAY NOT BE HIS NATURAL CHILDREN"

STOP SAYING THAT YOU DON'T KNOW WHO THEIR FATHER IS

STOP SAYING THERE IS A QUESTION AS TO WHERE THE CHILDREN CAME FROM THEY ARE NOT ALIENS



Three little CHILDREN lost their Daddy yesterday.



I can only assume they have been well educated and are therefore able to read. I assume as well that they have access to technology and can see and hear. Their Dad took extreme, necessary and highly successful measures to protect them from the media and the public. It is my opinion that this aspect of life for their little family requires dignity and grace. Now, today, I have heard much less of this thankfully, I hope it continues. He never hurt a child and his deserve the same.

If anyone, ever, tries to strip search my child they can expect the full range of my anger and fury and retribution. My children will be instructed to refuse. A young teenager was strip searched by school staff in Arizona based on a rumor (accurate) that she had prescription strength ibuprofen hidden on herself. It was several years ago and was just ruled in court to be illegal. This is child molestation. Anyone forcing my child to remove her clothing against her will is a pedophile and is committing a crime. If there was concern for this girls health, she should have been attended to by a medical professional. If there was concern for the illegal possession of narcotics, police officers should have been brought in. For all of the above, the parents should have been brought in.


Lastly, you GO ON with yourself Jenny Sanford! I am sick to death of politicians in this country committing adultery and their dedicated, brilliant wives standing up next to them. What happens in your family is your business and what you tolerate and forgive behind closed doors is up to you. But have some respect for yourself. The adulterer has to explain himself when in a life of public service. However, the show of wifely public loving support is a pantload, as is the garbage about everyone being human and making mistakes. There are mistakes and there are choices. Decisions and responsibility. So you just roll on by, Jenny Sanford, and don't stand in the manure pit with anyone!

Modern day moral instruction

My children both have great future career opportunities in the Criminal Arts. Recession be damned.

I may be going against the grain again. I know the popular thought is to sort of ignore lying. Whatever the lie was, stop it in its tracks and redirect it with a quick moral review. Then, move on. I choose otherwise. I do this from fear. Fear of the day my children lie to me and I can't tell. So this is what I do instead. I encourage them to step thigh high in their own pile of shit. That's right, I encourage the lying. I lead them with questions all over town until they finally realize they are locked in the corner and start to panic. The whole time I am watching for their little "tells". Like in poker, they say everyone has a quirk no matter how hard they try to cover it up, there is always something. Maybe a single tic on the upper eyelid under dark sunglasses. Or the right elbow jerks convulsively. So I take the opportunity to study their little lying eyes and body language. Right. I take my parenting direction from gambling.

Genea is fairly easy. Although she is a prolific liar, the extra practice has not helped her build up skills. She tilts her head to the right and makes DEAD steady eye contact. Unblinking. She is so serious your pupils will blister from the intensity. And she takes on great creative detail in her lies. She has an answer for everything and can go on and on without wavering. She will be a great lawyer. But oh my unholy hell this child will do anything another child tells her. Anything! Genea was invited to a birthday party from school that her buttheaded friend The Twit was not invited to, and the friend told her not to go. So, she handed me the invitation when she got home and said, but I can't go. The Twit said so. Aghhhuuah, is the sound I made as I enclosed my throat with a used dishrag, choking myself into blissful unconsciousness (not really).

Teena, now Teena is a concern. She will make a great investment banker someday. Or maybe an adoption case worker (JK- no money in that lol). She just looks.... uncomfortable. Good eye contact but it wobbles. Tells her story, but is unsure of it. You really have to know her to see it. And she again will not budge. Over Christmas she had eaten some sort of non-food thing. Vomiting over and over for days, even had to be hospitalized overnight. Needles are being shoved through her skin. X-rays taken, visual proof she had eaten something that looked like little white balls. The doctor showed her the x-rays even. Pointed at the little dots and told her we can SEE INSIDE OF YOU and KNOW you ATE something. Nothing. Nope. Did not confess for about 3 weeks.

The other day she had a broken toy in her hand. I had heard a crunch, and I asked her what happened. She said, I don't know, maybe it broke ITs OWN SELF.

Anyway, I expect this admission I am about to make could get me banished to the crappy parent hall of fame. Dr. Laura would be appalled and would make me say things like "I am not my child's parent". Rightfully so. The Supermom patrol is going to hunt me down and set all my sippy cups on fire. Cuz this one is pretty bad. Yet I do it anyway. And then I speak of it publicly. For shame.

I let my kids watch Cops. Well, actually I encourage it by putting it on and holding the remote control out of their reach. They even sing the promo song. And as each episode unfolds, I like to emphasize that those people flopping around on the ground like fish out of water, with their scabby faces smashed into the dirt, did not listen to their mommys the first time. That's right, those shining examples of human bone- headedness, would have grown up to be fine adults if only they had done what they were told by their mothers. And like all children, mine are great little imitators.









The above picture is from the latest trip to my parents house. The girls had gone to stay for a few days without us. They were playing "Cops", running all over the house arresting each other, slamming each other to the floor and pretend- handcuffing each other. My sister's son is the boy. Horrible as this is, the picture sends me into hysterical laughing fits. It is just so dang funny. Hee hee, I am giggling just writing it. However.

There is an authenticity here that I find troubling. Teena's bangs are all sweaty, like she had been running. Genea's hair is all foofed up and flipped over and she totally looks like the one who was waiting in the getaway car for everyone. I am not going to assign a crime to my adorable nephew and Godson, who was just going along with his girlie cousins. Whatever his crime was, I am sure they made him do it.

Oh yeah, lying. I am sure, positive even, that it all starts with lying.

Love you Forever

I was clicking around the other day, and from Annieology I went to Mountain Momma's and found this post about the book Love You Forever.



Now, everyone has their own opinions (you know they say they are like assholes, everyone's got one). Mine are my own. I have read the book and at first I found it lovely. Then..... I started thinking about it. As time went on I became more and more disturbed about it. Finally I decided it was creepy. Really creepy. John Wayne Gacy planting bodies in his basement creepy. Ed Gein having lunch freaky. It's a book for children about a mother and her baby son and follows them through his life and into adulthood and then to the mothers death. She takes care of him and drags him out of bed his whole life to sing a little song to him. Even when he is a big fat adult she does this. Drags him out of his marriage bed even, just to sing this little song. Then she gets all old and sickly and he starts going over to her house and dragging her butt out the bed to sing. Then, she dies.



Maybe, just maybe, my view is altered by the fact that The Crazy is not just an entity adopted into my home. The Crazy has lived with many a family member on my extended family stick. I am waaaaaaaay familiar with The Crazy and quite frankly, it looks a hell of a lot like that book. And it did not end well. Although I guess neither does this book. But I know most normal people love it. Find it sweet and darling and inspiring. A testament to the love of a mother and the strength of the family. Not me. From here it just looks freaky!

So what's my point? Don't got one, sorry. I know, there is usually some payoff for wading through my drivel. Pointless drivel. Better luck next time.

Dire miscalculation, dinner at La Chuck.

Someone should really let someone at Girl Scouts know about this. As you can see, they flipped the serving size with the number of servings in the box so they are reversed.

Someone should probably be fired over this. There is no way I could have ingested 7 servings in one sitting (ie., the whole dang box) for a total calorie count of over 1000. TWO servings, okay, I admit to overindulging a BIT and taking in TWO servings but it was over a long stretch of time. At least an hour.

Dinner at La Chuck (Chuck E. Cheese) last night. Listen, I know there are a lot of people who think they are too good for the rat. But here in Chez Accident (thanks to Miz Kizzle for the term), we are just fine with poor quality food and plastic booths. It entertains our children so we don't have to. And they get exercise running around! Anyway, they have this photo booth that does pencil- look drawings that actually turn out quite good. Of course, they are meant for *ahem*, smaller people, so I was concentrating really hard on not falling out of the booth and holding up each kid for their turn. Here they are.

Genea on left, Me, Teena, Me. Cool!

Things could be worse.

I could be having this mom's day.

Parenting the Hoovers

You have to scroll down to see all the pictures. You really want to see them. And, go potty before you read so you don't pee yourself laughing.

(Is it bad that I now warn the general public they better go potty or face the consequences?)

Pandemic Participants

We're in with the in-crowd la la la! The World Health Organization has declared a Flu Pandemic.

Yep, we got the flu here. Poor Teena is in terrible shape. She can barely sit up or even walk. It came on like a speeding train. Wednesday late morning she told me her chest hurt when she coughed. By about noon, she did not want to play anymore, she wanted to lay down. About 12:30 she had a fever of 101 degree's, and that was it. She went down hard. You know Teena is sick when she slows to less than 100 miles per hour. It is so bad I can smell the sick, smell it strongly. So we got a Dr appointment first thing Thursday morning and the Dr did a quick flu test, and there it was. Flu.

Now, speaking of karma, I really have to be more careful of what I ridicule. I thought that changing the name of the swine flu to, what looked like "Heinie (H1N1) flu " in order to spare the feelings of the pigs was silly and I said so.

Oops.

So we don't know what kind of flu she has. They aren't testing anymore to confirm what the type is unless a person is hospitalized. The Dr told The Husband that too many people were freaking out about it. DUH! But, he also said there is no other known flu going around, so chances are good. Or bad, however you want to look at it. Teena is on Tamiflu, and they gave me a prophylactic level of the medicine as well. (How stupidly immature does it make me that I think prophylactic is a funny word hee hee hee call me Beavis or Butthead, take your pick). Genea was just fine and I thought she had escaped it all with a really mild bit over the weekend. But she has a strong fever yesterday and had been lethargic and not hungry. Today she is just tired. we will call the Dr again. Maybe we should just put a tent in the parking lot of their office. We were just there with Teena on Monday, I thought she had a return of her UTI's, but didn't. I had started with some respiratory symptoms but it has all held off so far.

What a perfect day for President Obama to come to town to talk about health care! Which I consider to be absolutely appalling in this country! And will get me started on a rant that may just never end!

Ahh, rants. I feel some coming on matter of fact. I am not really a caretaker sort of person. I am sure that will be a shock. My personality is more suited to things that don't involve sick people, who I mostly have no patience for unless they are my children. I am getting really irritated with people who feel like they can lay down and be sick when they are sick. You know what? There are still 2 kids here and they don't give a hoot about sick, sick schmick, get them some danged dinner! Unless you have oozing sludge coming from the gangrenous wounds on your 4 broken limbs, and your severed spine could potentially skewer me, get your ass up and help with these kids and this house and the cats and by the way there is no food in here the house could be condemed and your parents will be here tomorrow. Not that I am naming any names. That would be rude and inappropriate.

(*sigh* ok, I am complaining about this one husband thing but we are really compatible in everything else like money and parenting techniques etc so this here is my disclaimer but my house is still a wreck)

The kid we fight for (and other news)

Genea is on the upswing. Every few months she goes through a period of stellar behavior. She is as close to a regular kid as I think is possible for her. She is playing with a full deck. The lights are on, someone is home. The 6 pack has 6 cans. The switch is flipped.

She relaxes. She can wait her turn. She is funny! She laughs at jokes with a regular, normal sounding laugh. She catches on. She can put 2 and 2 together and get 4 instead of "banana". Her eyes are clear and there are no bags. She cares. She asks the person who tripped or fell or whatever, "are you all-right"? She doesn't have to ask over and over what is for dinner because she is confident it is coming, whatever it is. She can wait. She can hear the word no, and keep going. She stays on the topic of the conversation she is having. She ate a small portion of food at dinner and did not compulsively ask for more.

She is a 6 year old. She went to her friends house with explicit directions to play only outside. I could not see her and found her inside their house. She sits where I sit every time I get up. She asks questions she knows the answers to for our attention. She interrupts. She tattles on her sister. She jabs her new Barbie dolls hair an inch from my face so I can "see" it. Normal. All normal 6 year old stuff.

She is still toe walking. She falls and knocks stuff over and runs into things that are not there. She has to be able to see me or she will jump up, indeed she will levitate, to find me. She will follow me so close I literally trip over her, often. She paces back and forth, unable to focus on one thing to do. She is clingy.

This is it. This is the real kid that is in there, under all The Crazy. This is who Genea can be, what we fight for. The constant pace of manic- panic and fear is what we usually have. Even when we are having a good stretch, we always have that stress, the nervousness, the strain of mania and impulsivity, just to a lesser degree. But every once in a while, for a week or 2 if we are lucky, the real kid comes out. A regular kid who has been through a whole lot.

So what does that all mean? Does a kid with Reactive Attachment Disorder have periods of typical behavior? Does a kid with Early Onset Bipolar Disorder show periods of lucidity? Could ADHD cause all of this and her problems are related to hyperactivity and impulse control and does that go away once in a while? She is not free and clear. This break is a significant lessening of symptoms but many still remain. They are manageable. They are what you would expect from a child who has been through her situation. I don't know if an accurate diagnosis would make all the difference or if it matters and maybe there is no one thing that would explain everything. Would it change what we do and how we approach Genea? WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO AND HOW DO I MAKE THIS STICK?

In other news, The Husband is really sick. Now, Teena is really sick. And The Husbands parents are coming for a visit on Saturday, until Tuesday. Genea was mildly sick over the weekend but seems to be better. I am the only one left standing and I have suspicions that will not last much longer. Coincidentally, every time The Inlaws come out here (they live out of state), The Husband is either: A. Really Sick or B. Really Busy. This results in me having to do all the damn work for their visit while he slops around making a wreck of everything complaining that he is: A. Really Sick or B. Really Busy. Girls, beware that if you marry a man for his mind, there is a good chance he will spend decades using it to get out of household responsibilities!

Yipee!

Look what I got from Jenny Sue Got Married !!!!

I love to get an award, it makes me way happier than is probably healthy and within reason.

You should visit her blog if you haven't, she is really funny!

THANK YOU!!!!!!!

bcdg3fsnjy

Filthy beasts

I mean seriously, do we live on a farm? Are we professional Dirt Acquisitionists? (Is there such a vocation? Cuz we're there!) This glamorous picture is, if you couldn't tell, my washer. Those are my kids whites in there, with a cup and a half of bleach!!!!!!!

DISGUSTINGNESS! VILE!



Is this crossing the line of privacy boundaries?

Could this make me look bad at some point later in life, like a pic of me at a kegger with no top on? Not that that could get out (JK).

So be it.

Next vile thing.
Okay, so I know this is bad. I did a bad thing and the Supermom Police are going to come and get me and will show NO mercy cuz I do not deserve any. It's a good thing I like the heat since that is how the temperature is going to be when I float on out of this life.

BAD MOMMY!

Teena pee'd on the floor in the girls bedroom. (I don't think I will ever escape pee, when the girls are done The Husband will start whizzing all over the house I am sure). Anyway, she pee'd on the floor. And someone, had left a bunch of her little papers on that same floor. That someone, is named Genea. And I tried to cover up what had happened, only 4-5 of maybe 25 papers were harmed. But Teena, Teena doesnt know when to shut up. Quite frankly, Teena has never met a person, place or thing that could not be improved with the sound of her voice. In her opinion. Anyway, I snuck the papers into the trash and out of sight. Teena makes a point of telling Genea what happened. Genea, being a great big sister, instantly commenced with the fake cry. Ahuh ahuh- aHUH aahhhhh my paaaaaaaaperssssssss.

Genea, I said, I said um, Genea?

*sniffle* what Mama? queries Genea.




DOESNT IT SUCK WHEN SOMEONE PEE'S ON YOUR STUFF?????

THAT REALLY TOTALLY JUST SUCKS DOESNT IT!!!!!!!!!!

*blank stare*

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
I do so love it when life lets you witness karma first hand.

shhhhhhh

Don't tell anyone. Don't even make a sound. Slowly move your eyeballs and quietly click your arrow keys puh-leeeeeeze.
Genea has P'd in only designated P receptacles for about 2 1/2 weeks now. Staying dry at school, and staying dry at home. Staying dry during rest/nap in the afternoons. Dry. Dry!
It looks like potty boot camp worked for now (carefully trying not to jinx us). A couple times she even got up in the night to go use the bathroom. She has never done that before. Today, her pull up had (ewww!) fallen out of the trash and I went to pick it up and it felt wrong. I looked at it, and it was shiny and clean and not yellow. She had a dry night and didn't even realize it!!!
No one is having a leftover pull -up garage sale and no one is putting up the diaper CHAMP on craigslist. No one is taking any chances on getting too excited here. No one will be making a scrapbook page out of the past few weeks and no one is going to over estimate and ASSume the P ordeals of the past are over forever.
For now, the P is where it is supposed to be.

No post title

I am a lawn chair. Both of my girls just loooooooooooove to sit right on me as if I were a lawn chair. If one is there already, the other squishes herself in as tight as possible next to me to wait her turn. Here is where the problem is. Inevitably, touching occurs. Yes, the dreaded, painful practically lethal touching. As in, "she's touching me", but you have to imagine it being shrieked in the nasalized shrill of a child in the throes of the agony of having been, of course, touched by the other. The dance of criminal level touching cannot be complete without the wordless whine. How does one commit that sound to mere words? Letters, meaningless shapes on paper just cannot describe that sound. Mere phonics, useless.

NNhhhimmaaaaaah WAAAAAAghnuuuuuh EH MaaaaaaamAAAAAA!!!

UUUUnnnmmmuaaaaaaaaaah. GooowaaaaaAAAAH! NEEEEEEEEEEHHH annnggggguuuuuuuuh.

MaaMA MAAAAMmmaaaaaaaaaa mamAAAAAAA!!!!

(Is something on fire? Is Freddy Krueger ringing the doorbell? Has a pig just flown past the window? Is it suddenly very VERY cold?)

Commence fake crying.

Ahuh Ahuh Ahuh waaaAAAH

No actual leaking eyes will be joining us.

MAMMMMMMA! GENEA'S HAIR TOUCHED MY ELBOW!

Really, I have very little sympathy as I sit here wearing two, count 'em TWO, 98.6 degree blankets.

Quit yelling- ok, ok OK!!

OKAY!!! For all the people who have been screaming and yelling for pics here you go!

(Alright, you may not have heard the screaming and may not have been doing the yelling. After writing about Genea's height and weight gain I was inspired to go back and look at the old pictures. Then I thought, hey, why not post 'em. So I did).

This is Genea now. Both plants behind her are dead. But isn't she gorgeous?!?

Again, put down your drink. I told Teena to pose like Paris Hilton. She has no idea who that could even be, but this is what she did. Which, I think is adorably hysterically cute. This was last summer.

Here are Genea and Teena about 3 weeks before she moved in. She is 4 years old and Teena is 2. She had not grown or gained weight for almost 2 years at this point. You can see why a lot of people asked us if they were twins in the beginning.

Here they are in July, about 5 weeks after Genea moved in. Teena on the left. You can see Genea has grown a smidge.

This is in November, on Thanksgiving. Genea has grown about 6 inches at this point. I always wondered- did that hurt? Growing as fast as she did, especially her feet, I mean, that had to hurt sometimes!

Comparing the girls height in pictures is the easiest way to do it, but keep in mind Teena was growing normally as well.

The 2 pics of us on my right- hand side bar are from about the one year point. Her ass-quack adoption worker told us at court, she would not have recognized Genea if we hadn't been standing with her.

This is Easter of last year, so Genea had grown about 10 inches at this time (and seriously, is she not gorgeous? I feel like I can brag about her that way since I did not contribute to it. Kind of funny).

Here they are just after Christmas this past year at my mom's house. I think I posted this one at the time. Anyway.

This last one might be a bit out of order, from just prior to Christmas.

Ok so all-y'all can stop hurting my ears with the hollering! Now I realized I don't have any good recent pics so look out the next few days.