Thursday, March 31, 2011

For the Love of Natural Consequences

Genea carries many of the effects of early neglect with her every day. She spent the first year and a half of her life in an orphanage in Ukraine. She was cared for, but not cared for, if that makes sense. She was provided with basic needs, shelter and food, but I believe she went hungry a lot. That she was fed but not when she was hungry, instead when it was time for feeding. Maybe she didn't get enough, maybe it was often late.

Children who have an early history of neglect often have issues around food. They binge eat, refuse to eat,  they hoard food or are so desperate for some control of their lives that they make themselves vomit just to show they are in charge. I spent a lot of years working with children, and even if the neglect was brief and the child then went to a home where the parents lovingly did everything right, a decade later the child often still hides food in places that are not good for food to be.

So Genea takes food. She gets up in the night and wanders into the kitchen and helps herself to a donut or some cookies. Sometimes she eats the food right then and there, and we find the evidence the next morning. Other times, she takes the food into her room and hides it somewhere. I don't consider this to be stealing. I think of it as a rut that has been burned into her brain that may never fill in. Self- protection and survival. Of course it makes no sense. There is plenty of food in our home and she certainly eats her fill. Even when things get low, there is still not nothing.

We don't particularly have a consequence or punishment set up. We remind her that she eats just fine and tell her not to do it again. Please. Because when you hide food in your room, your parents may not know about it but the bugs will. Bugs sense food and come running. They may jog for miles to help themselves to your under-the- bed- cracker- buffet. Then they tell more bugs and more bugs and all those bugs have hundreds of babies and they all want to live where there is food.

So the other day I went into the room I like to call the quicksand pit (the girls bedroom), to clear some stuff out. You know, like all those precious drawings and renderings of the letter "R". My goal was to remove paper from the room because holy turd on a stick these children can collect some paper! Seriously there was well over 4000 pieces of paper wafting around or shoved into corners. Under Genea's bed I found a box with a bunch of toys and miscellaneous junk, and some crackers.

Obviously Genea had gotten up in the night and helped herself. I couldn't decide what to do about it right away, so I shoved it all back under there and finished up with the paper hunt. While I understand where her hoarding comes from and I don't especially mind her taking food, I absolutely do not like her roaming a dark house alone at night and I really super hate bugs. So when dinner rolled around I had decided I would serve her up her box of toys and junk and crackers right there on the table next to her milk.

She did not care for her dinner that night. The Husband and I both lit into her about bugs in the house, how we don't like bugs and don't want them inside. That they will come in and they will eat on your crackers. They will have a party and not invite you. They will behave poorly and hook up constantly just like if they were on Jersey Shore without protection. Well, ok we didn't say that one. Anyway.

Genea listened to all of our points and nodded her understanding. That's what she does. The mom's out there probably know the routine, the RAD mom's out there definitely know the look. The dull, glazed eyes. Mouth slightly opened and tongue pushed out and bulging. Head slightly tilted to the side. Basically this means, I hear your words and I can repeat all of it and the very next time I get a chance to swipe some crackers I am on it like brown on rice, bugs be damned.

Later that evening I was helping Teena with her routine and I noticed Genea's homework spread across the floor of their bedroom. Sigh. It was like she took special care to make sure it was as strewn about as possible. Instead of putting it all in her folder and into her backpack, which was also laying there flopped to the side, she made a point of making a mess of it all. I hollered for her to come in and get it all picked up and set for the morning. Nothing I hate more than a problem in the morning. Well, I hate the morning in all forms so I work very hard to prevent the slightest glitch. I turned back to Teena while Genea came in to pick up her stuff and out of the corner of my eye, barely even visible, I see a teensy black speck on one of the homework pages.

I pick up the paper to inspect the speck.

The speck was walking. Perfect.

I hold out the paper for Genea to see and exclaimed to her...... SEE! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TAKE FOOD AND HIDE IT IN YOUR ROOM YOU GET BUGS! I TOLD YOU! NOW YOU HAVE BUGS!

Now really, I hate bugs and this one could barely even be called a living thing. I have seen dandruff flakes bigger than this bug. It was so small I could not even tell what variety of insect it was. But Genea, all Genea needed to know what that it was crawling and it was a bug and it was on her stuff. Shrieking like she just saw a king cobra giving her the stink eye, I swear she levitated and catapulted her body backwards through the door and into the plaster of the wall in the hallway. "BUG BUG BUG!" she screamed as I waved the paper around to show her. "Look at what happens Genea, look! There are bugs in your room now and it's because you have food in here!'.

Aaaack aaaaaaaaaah aaack, she yelled. Well, point made and it was time to get back to business. Of course now Genea is even less inclined to pick up her work and prep for the morning. I flicked the bug with my fingernail and off into space it went. Our evening continued, and I silently enjoyed the natural consequence.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Ooooh, oh oh look!

Oh my gosh people, look at that, follower number #199 just signed herself on! Look on down over there..... do you see yourself? NO? Then you could be #200! Or even higher. It's so exciting (for me)! Sign yourself up! You can even do it twice if you want.... you would not be the first.

(No, the answer is "no" if the question is, does that stupid Accidental lady have no shame?)
(And, I won't call you out even if I know who you are and you are not on the clickie block)

I will even be happy to send out a prize. How about.... a collection of previously driven diapers? Um, hmmmm. I have a few things in the deep freezer from that time the electricity went out.... something from there? Some whiny children? Wait no, I think there are laws... Hmmm. I have a LOT of cat hair. Somehow, I just can't seem to even give that away.

I so rarely win anything, I don't even know what would be a good prize. If I had a vacation to Hawaii I would be on it, not giving it away. Nothing personal. Ahem.

Anyone want a used husband who opened up the windows because he was too warm, then fell asleep? In Green Bay in March at night? Wait, oh shit, maybe I should rephrase that one. What do I have, what do I have.

I have a dirty bathroom and a ton of laundry. I have a pain. I have bushy eyebrows. I have a super bad attitude. Anyone?

Ok, how about if you look and you do not see yourself on the little "follower" block thingie, and you put yourself there, I will NOT send you anything. A contest in reverse maybe. Ohhhh, wait, maybe you should send ME something! Ahhh HA!

Does anyone know Oprah? Because I am getting worried. Anyone who wants to send me Oprah will be greatly appreciated. Or, just tickets to the show.


Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Again? NO not again!

Innocently I sat, relaxed on a couch enjoying a warm cup of coffee with some Bailey's doused in. Chatting with my wonderful friends about the good and the bad in our lives, we so dearly enjoy our weekly time together. Every Tuesday, almost without fail, a few of us meet out at a tiny local restaurant. It is generally peaceful and quiet. A place sort of like the coffee house on "Friends".

The weather is super crummy. It has been windy and cold all day, and as the evening wore on the snowish sleet built up to that mushy sort of crust. It has snowed, it has hailed and it has sleeted. Teena described it as "the snow is throwing ice at me".

Sometimes at this little cafe we knit. Sometimes we don't, though that is always the intention and we call our selves a knitting group. A knitting group sounds so much nicer than the mom's of the crazy kids group. Anyway. We all have adopted children with "issues" and we hang out and chat. Often about our kids, many times about the many other things going on in the world. It is very normal feeling.

But tonite, tonite there was an ugly interruption. Bad. So very bad.

My phone rang. I briefly had the technological know how and ambition to set my ring tones so that I know who is calling. The Husband for example, his ring tone is frogs ribbeting. My all purpose ring tone is a sort of Bon Jovi- esque rif. I refuse to pay money for  the cool ringtones. Actually, I cannot figure out how to get into our cell phone account to buy a cool damn ring tone. Whatever. Fact is, I was already sitting with the few people that call me. That left my sister, my mom or a few other random friends.

It was not any of them.

It was that fucking school. I picked up my phone and looked at the caller ID and it said my daughters school. There is no good reason the school is calling me at 9:30 at night. Nothing good could possibly come out of this. I looked at my friends in shock. How could this be? What could they be calling about?

It hit me.

Sweet Mother of Xanax. It could only be a snow day.




I have to say though, this is fucking ridiculous. Absolute bull shit. A damned pant load of garbage. How are the children of this country ever going to be educated? HMMMM? How is it that we rank at the bottom year after year when it comes to the education of our children compared to all the other developed nations, and here we are taking a leisurly day off. Just because the snow is throwing ice. Bull. Shit!

I KNOW for a fact that it gets snowy in Canada, and those people are educated. Switzerland, Norway, those are cold places and those folks are smart. Russia is cold and snowy, they go to school there. You can't call a wienie ass snow day every time it flakes in Russia. You'd have a country full of nitwits.

I pay an ass load of taxes on my property to get my children educated. I paid an assload of taxes before I had children. I paid up in advance. AND, I buy lottery tickets all the time. I am not getting my money's worth, that's for sure.

And just in case anyone forgot, or has their own life and failed to memorize mine, we just finished spring break. The kids only went back to school on Monday! Genea no likey change. Genea had a hard enough time with our trip and the school break as it was. I can just about guarantee me some wango tango time tomorrow when she finds this shit out. Whichever fucktarded imbecile made this decision, I want him fired. Fired!

Well that's fine then. Have your fancy pants snow day. I am going to park my kids in front of the tv and let them watch Nick all freaking day. I may stab my ears out with knitting needles to avoid the lyrical sound of The Wonder Pets. Just a warning. Also be warned, this is a rant and I do not preview, edit or spellcheck rants. You get what you get. BAH!

Monday, March 21, 2011

There is no final exam in blogging

Prior to leaving for Orlando for the Second Annual Early Trauma and Attachment Disorder Conference, I was asked by The Event Goddess to take on a job. Most of the people in the main house were asked to do jobs, and they were significant. Not wanting to look like the slacker I strive to be, I jumped on my job and began the initial stages of planning for it.

Then I got fired.

So, I was asked to take on a different job. This job, well suffice to say I would rather set my hair on fire strand by strand, starting with my lip hairs. I emailed the coordinator and relayed that preference, but agreed to do it once again to be part of the team. Everyone was helping with something and I wanted to do my part, I was just sort of holding out hope that my part would not require the use of sedatives. However, I have sedatives and lets face it, that's what they are for. The return email though, let me off the hook but reserved the right to shove me back onto the hook if need be.

Of course, need be'd.

And if Corey need be'd, I was darn good and well going to give it a shot, overdose risk notwithstanding.

There were several informal classes set up in Orlando, a parenting panel, how to do henna, how to do reiki, and a blogging 101 class. This is where the fear strikes and knocks me over. I can talk to people. I can talk in a group of people. I don't like talking on the phone but I can do it. What I am terrified of, is talking to a group of people who are looking to me for information. And also, looking at me. My stomach is fluttering just thinking about it right now. In the past, my voice has shook so much that my words were unintelligible. Really. I was asked to be part of a 3 person "panel" to discuss the basics of blogging with people interested in blogging or who were trying to get started but were struggling with some of the programs.

Naturally my mind went to any 300 people who would be better at this than me. I thought, I don't know that much about blogging, I know how to work my blog and that's about it. But, with 2 other people, maybe we could answer people's questions and get them started. My beloved friend Sarah at 5 Frozen Chamorros was a panel person. The third person was Katt at Mommy Needs Therapy.  

Thankfully, we found Katt we before the class. So I think it went well. (I am not pan handling for compliments here, so please don't feel like you need to give one) (but keep in mind I can't stop you, lol). I did not pass out, hit my head and bleed all over the carpet. People who had questions got them answered and now they have some great blogs up and running! Really impressive! So, here they are:

Mixed Nut Medley

25 Years to Live Life

Knee Deep in Cortisol

There are two more, one is private and one is set up and ready to go, it just needs some posts. I will link them when they are ready.
So, while I am at it, if you have a new blog that you are putting out there, leave a link in the comments so we can check you out too!
Oh yeah, and comment! And follow!

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Wedding Ring Raffle

Hey all! I have been out of the loop most of this month, so I am late to this particular event. There is a family trying desperately to adopt two little girls, and they are struggling to raise the funds they will need.

So the Mom is raffling off her wedding ring.

Now, her other children have decided to raffle off some of their personal jewelry as well, to bring home their little sisters.

If you can help them in any way, here is the link to the raffle post.

Here is a link to her blog in general.

Catherine, the mom, will give anyone who posts the raffle on their blog free entries. I will not accept the free entries, although it is nice of her to offer. I want her to put her own name on them, and hopefully she will win.

Friday, March 18, 2011

sometimes its so simple

Sometimes it's really hard. And sometimes it's so simple.

Genea has an issue. She cannot, canNOT occupy herself. No can do, no sir. Throughout the day, every day, she paces back and forth with nothing to do. I know, all kids do this. The difference is that most kids will eventually learn, or follow suggestions, or sit in a corner or something. When Genea does not know what to do, she paces. We have one of those open floor plan homes so her pacing path is a long one. Walking back and forth, back and forth, back again. Forth again. Oh my lands, sometimes I will sit there and count the number of times. Of course her path goes directly in front of me. She tries to make it look like she has something supremely important to do across the room. She paces across to the table and inspects a place mat. Then she paces back across the room and very importantly touches a pillow. Back across again to look out the window. Across again to pick up a crayon, look at it and set it back down. 400 times an hour. Many times I give her some ideas. Go clean your room is always one of the ideas. I think it makes the other suggestions more appealing.

The difference with Genea from most "regular" kids, is that Genea has one option that other kids only use in an emergency. The all- purpose fit. The wango tango. When she cannot figure out what to do with herself and will not take suggestions, she pulls out her favorite trick, the one I like to call The Set Up. She asks for something she knows she cannot have, something she knows she cannot do, something that is not hers. Something she knows damn good and well is going to elicit the answer "no". And then woo hoo, duck and run people because here it comes. 

Note though, that the wango tango serves a purpose. Genea starts to feel anxious that she has nothing to do. There is no expectation of her at the time and she gets nervous. With no one telling her what to do or scheduling her time for her she feels unsafe. Events cannot be predicted when she does not have them laid out for her. Firing up with the wango tango gives her a predictable series of actions and reactions to engage in, and that is safe. Remember your RAD Rule #1: There is no such thing as negative or positive attention. There is only attention. 

Recently I sat down with her and we made a list. She told me the things she can do when she is looking for something to do, and I wrote them down. I added a few ideas of my own, since I am the Mom and that is my right. Such as clean the cat box. She listed things like do a puzzle, read a magazine, play a game by herself. 

So. Simple.

Now she carries her list around and refers to it. Somehow having in writing all the things she likes to do gives her the ability to choose one of them.

It has not always been the case that she would respond to something like this. In the past she might have ripped up the paper. Or refused to do anything on it while waving it in my face. Or wango tango'd at the suggestion of looking at it. So while it is definitely a simple idea it is not one that would have worked say, 2 years ago. 

If your child cannot read, or cannot read well enough to process a list like this, you can always use pictures. Cut them out from a magazine or catalog, or use the internet to find a picture of "Lego's" for example and print it out. I've used that trick with children with Autism (well, many people have used that trick and I just copied it). You can lay them out, or put them in a jar for the child to pick from. You can put out 3 choices, or 10 or whatever your child can handle. Genea, she likes to see everything at one time. Knowing there might be more than the choices she is given would whip her up. Putting the ideas in a jar and having her select one, dang, that would surely set off an epic fit. You can rest assured whatever she did not pick would be the thing she wanted.

Do what works. Know that it may not work the next time. Be willing to try again.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Happy St. Packers Day

No really, happy St. Packers Day! 

That is what Teena, who can be quite rigid in these matters, calls it. She hears things how she hears them and the first way her brain interprets the sounds is the right one. For example:

"Fe fie fo fum
I smell the blood of an English bun"

Teena, what is an English bun? She does not know but will scream you down if you try to tell her it is anything other than how she heard it the first time.

Football is pretty pervasive around here as you might imagine. Kids rebel against their parents as teens by claiming to be fans of Minneapolis or Chicago. While some teenagers are busy trying to sneak skanky clothing out of the house, around here they will wear a purple Vikings shirt to get their parents and other adults all riled up. There are worse things.

So, Happy St. Packers Day to all!

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Gettin' There

Whew! I have been operating at high gear for several weeks now. I have not fallen off of the planet, however much I may want to. Here is the quick run-down:

  • Went to Orlando- Woo Hoo
  • Returned from Orlando, unpacked and repacked for trip 2 days later to Ohio
  • Massive amounts of laundry later, packed up girls for trip to Ohio
  • Notice Genea having behavioral regression on a level unseen for years
  • Cleveland having a snow day. We are redirected to Ohare, where we spend 5 hours in a layover. Yes, 5 hours.
  • Genea has a sudden loss of the inhibition that used to prevent visits from The Crazy in public. Shit. 
  • Spend 4 days visiting with in-laws. 'Nuff said. (However, I will say more later, lol!).
  • Many visits from The Crazy and severe regressive behavior from Genea. Fall out sucks.
  • It's spring break for the girls. Oh my unholy hell. Today is Wednesday.  This will not end until Monday. 
  • Notice that Teena is seriously sit-still impaired, as well as keep-hands-to -yourself impaired. 
  • Wonder how it is that 2 small children so closely resemble caring for 19 baby elephants.
  • Realize I missed an opportunity to apply for several Oprah Show audience spots. 
  • Seeking bridge to jump off.
  • Many new blogs to visit- woo hoo
  • No chance to comment or acknowledge new blogs yet- boo.
  • Gonna' get there. Trying to catch up. It will happen.
So that's the summary. My telomeres (stress thingies in the body that shorten your life when stressed) are shredded like cheddar. 

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Burning up on Re-entry

Hoooo- weeeeee. I am back from Orlando. It was fun and fabulous and I thought it would be a great idea to just stay. Forever. I tried to find out what the "squatting" laws are in Florida, but never got the chance. Just as well I suppose, there are mosquito's there that could carry off my cats.

So, as with every vacation, there is the pain of re-entry into regular life. Or, you know, the joy. Ahem.

This little vacation was a solo trip, ala no family. To stay in a pretty little villa with a group of glorious moms, and bunches of other moms staying in other villas close by. Women who's families are like mine, affected by adoption, traumatized children and attachment disorders. We bonded, and I laughed so hard at one point that no sound could come out. All I could do was shriek like a duck trying to catch my breath. We cried, and I swear my face turned purple by the end of the night. (I mean, I like purple but not as a skin color). Powerful. Intense. Profound.

As we were leaving town to go to the airport, we decided to go to one of the myriad curios (curios is Latin for tacky crap) stores to pick up little gifts for our family and friends. I went in with the idea that I would grab something cute for the girls. There was tons of Disney stuff, which was perfect because despite my best efforts my kids are princess obsessed. Naturally some stuff was cheap and gross but there were also some nice clothes and I spent a lot of time debating over Tinkerbell hoodies, Tiana jammies, and Minnie Mouse attire.

Tick tick tick, time goes by and I am struggling to find something that A. I can live with B. comes in the sizes I need and C. comes in a price that is not equal to the national debt. Corey (Mistress of Events) said we had fifteen minutes and by bloody jingo that woman will leave your ass right there in a pile of curios if you try to extend to sixteen minutes. Starting to panic a bit I was, until I had an Oprah Aha Moment. Similar to the explosion of a light bulb smashed into concrete.

If I buy my girls a bunch of Disney stuff they are going to want to know how I came across such items when all I did was go to Florida. See, I was deliberately vague when I told them about my trip ahead of time. Florida, I said. I am going to Florida with my knitting group. No, no, honey I am sorry, kids aren't allowed in Florida. Lucky for me they are in public school and so no way were they going to make the connections from Florida, to Orlando, to DISNEY PRINCESSES WALKING THE STREETS.

If I bring them home a bunch of Disney stuff they are going to think I told them a big fat lie and did not go to visit with knitting kninja's, but went instead to "It's a Small World" to knit, and play jenga with Ariel and Belle and left them behind. It occurs to me that this can only be bad. Thankfully I had this realization and was able to race out of the store, empty handed, in time to get back in the van so as not to have to walk to the airport.

Once in the airport I had some time to kill so I perused the available curios that had since been jacked up in price by 40% (or you know, something like that). I finally decided on two little palm tree's that the girls can slowly kill by refusing to listen to me about watering, or yanking out the stems to see if it has roots.

On the plane I am a little sad and at the same time a little excited to see my girls. I did miss the little buggers. Although they had no time to miss me since their Daddy took them to: Olive Garden, the buffet, Sonic, bowling, the air-jumpy place, a movie, to Milwaukee, and made no effort to conceal the fact that he bribed the snot out of them to obtain peace when he wanted it. I made little cards for each daughter, one for every day I would be gone and they had so much fun they had to be reminded to open them. Mmmmkay.

Waiting for my baggage to be hurled from the mystery chute onto the spinney carousal thing, I see my husband and daughters walking in the doors. SO SWEET! They came in to welcome me home- they must have missed me too!

Well, not really. Teena had to go potty. The three of them stood and stared at me a second, then started off looking for a toilet. Cool. But first I directed the girls to come and give me a damn hug, which they did and as I am holding them close and loving the feel of their little selves and telling them how I missed them Teena says...... "what did you bring us?". Hand to God, those were the first words out of her sassy little mouth. Mmmmkay, just go find the bathroom kid.

I got my bag off the flying carousal and waited. Here they come, and now the girls are smiling big smiles and jogging a little, in that way kids do when they know they are supposed to use walking feet but they want to get there really fast. OH! They are so cute! And they get closer and closer and I brace myself for the impact of them both for a big gigantic bear hug! And Teena stops short by about 2 feet of me and Genea copies her and waits, and I am thinking they must have planned this move in the potty together because Teena says, and I quote:

"Moms and Dads who go away bring their kids something when they come back".


Well I did, but hell if she was going to get it after that little comment! My response was, "they do???? Come give me a hug!". And that's, the end.

Silly little palm trees survived however long in a crap and junk store in Florida, they'll be fine in the bag for a day or two.

But they did miss me, they really did. I missed them too.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Having Fun With Re-runs!

Hey again all y'all! I thought I would put up another re-run post just for fun. An oldie, but one that made me laugh as I was writing it. Those are my favorite- when I giggle to myself as I click away. This was originally titled "Not Another Parenting Moment!".


I have always been annoyed by the people who advocate censorship on TV. People who get all whipped up when 2 people in a commercial kiss while they wait for a bowl of rice to be done in the microwave. And now they are really excited about their rice, because they are kissing again.....
To be honest, not only have those people irritated me, I would think to myself, Self, why can't these morons just change the damn channel? Please get over it, the TV is for all of us.
But ya' know, there is this one commercial, that I hate beyond belief that I have to say this but God help me, this commercial is just too much. This particular commercial I think, belongs on Cinamax (I have also heard that channel referred to as Skin-i-max). We have 2 young adults, like 19, trying to go up stairs and take off their clothes at the same time so they will be good and nekked by the time they get to the apartment. I think this commercial is for jeans.
Now, my girls are young enough to think that those kids are trying to take off their pants because they are in a BIG HURRY to get to the potty. This, they can relate to because they frequently wait until the last possible second before rushing in to the potty. To make a pee that is.
But in a few more years, they are going to start getting a good idea of what those teenagers are trying to do. And soon they will figure it out. Now, instead of explaining the birds and bees, I can say to them hey kids, watch this commercial and you will know most of what you need to know.

So there you go! And it all still stands! Although this post being from 2008 has got me thinking- 2008? Good crap have I really had this blog for that long? DANG!

Friday, March 4, 2011

The Last Time I Went Away

Hey all y'all! I am throwing a re-run out there for fun. This is a post from just before a trip I took to Los Angeles a couple of years ago. I went to hear Heather Forbes speak on her Beyond Consequences, Logic and Control parenting style. It was a one day thing, but I'm pretty sure I managed to stretch it into 3 days. Maybe 4. Anyway, here is a post I wrote prior to leaving. I should say, things were a little different then and attitudes have changed.


I have been planning a trip by myself for about 3 years now. Ever since The Husband was curiously unable to avoid some avoidable business trips starting about 3 years ago, I have been planning a trip for myself. By avoidable I mean no one was pulling his fingernails off or threatening death by dismemberment with child safe scissors. In my opinion, that means the trips were not mandatory. Unfortunately, I had no business that required travel. And really no business that required travel to anyplace interesting. The western shore of Lake Michigan does not count.

The Husbands favorite phrase is this: It's no big deal. It's no big deal to be alone all weekend with a baby. It's no big deal to travel for work. It's no big deal to have to do everything by yourself. It's no big deal to go someplace by yourself. Uh huh, yes he did. And a year and a half ago when child number 2 walked through the door, he committed the offenses again. And yet with all that confidence he has, he has never spent one entire day with the kids by himself.

And I have a long memory.
Heh Heh heh.

I finally have somewhere to go. For 4 days.

Heh heh heh.

So this weekend, I am going *gasp* off the grid and traveling myself to California to attend a Beyond Consequences seminar. The Husband will have the girls all to himself the whole weekend. Heh heh heh.

I have not done anything extra to set them up for the weekend. I did not do extra shopping. I did not pre-cook meals. I did not list out activities they could do. The Husband is not a total idiot and will be able to care well for the girls.

But it would be a lie if I said I hope it all goes great. Secretly, I hope they nail him to the wall. He has a big mouth and I have been waiting for a chance to let him learn by experience, exactly how draining these kids can be. And, how stressful it is when you are the only one and no one is coming to help you. And how jumbled your brain gets when you realize you have only been up for 2 hours and it feels like the day should be almost over already.

Secretly I hope they are demanding and self centered. I hope they whine and get on each others nerves.

Secretly, I hope to find him laying flat on his face in front of the nearest Catholic church, begging someone to call the Vatican about Damiens twin sisters. To schedule an exorcism.

If Teena pee's on her undies 3 times in one day and runs out of clean undies, well, they will just have to do laundry. I have not prepared their clothing for them. And, I haven't done laundry this week so things are running low. There is enough if you know what you are doing. Secretly, I hope they run out and he has to dig through the basket to pull out their nasty pee clothes and wash them.

So the secret is, I want the girls to act the way they normally do. no better, no worse. Their average. Heh heh heh. I want The Husband to have this experience in all its glory. I will leave out the phone book open to the churches page.

So, there you go. I may or may not feel the same way now. Ahem. 


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