I’ve installed every plugin I can find to reduce/eliminate my problem with referrer spam. Anyone know of anymore I can try? Hell, even blocking the IPs aren’t working.

Fuckers. They’re the ones sucking my bandwidth dry every month, aren’t they?

We were waiting for MB1 at the hospital today when a kid walked out and stood about 10 feet from us – obviously waiting on his ride. He was wearing the same volunteer getup that MB1 has, so I assumed he was roughly the same age.

MB4 saw him and started rapping on the car window. This kid immediately came toward the car until his face was pressed against the glass. MB4 howled with laughter, as the rest of us pee’d a little. This kid’s eyes were huge, his grin was …… mischievous, and he seemed to really get a kick out of the whole thing.

As the kid walked back, MB4 rapped against the window again. The kid froze, slowly turned around, and slowly walked back to the car again – not making a sound. He walked to the rear of the window – the back ones pop out – and peeked in the opening. MB4 was laughing so hard he could barely speak. But as the kid walked back again with that same strange grin, MB4 hollered – do it to the parents….

[The Parents? WTH? Perhaps he really is from another planet?]

Which about made us shit ourselves.

But we didn’t. And he didn’t. He made his way back to MB4’s window, and stared inside the van at everyone with those big ole eyes of his. Then he walked back for the last time since MB1 was was getting into the van.

While waiting for MB1 to get settled, MD looked at me with the biggest WTF look I’d ever seen. I laughed and said – Is it that hard to see? Why do you think MB4’s laughing when none of us are? Maybe because he wouldn’t see the harm in pressing his face into a complete stranger’s van window to get a laugh either?

MD said – you think he’s autistic?
I said – yeah, but high functioning, like MB4.

And MB1 jumped in to say – Yeah, he’s the new kid that works with my friend. And yes, he’s autistic.

MD looked at me and asked how I knew. I said it was pretty obvious. So easy to tell if you pay attention. Then we headed home and changed the subject.

Only in my mind, I was thinking about the day when that will be my teenage son. A son who doesn’t understand that he might be making someone nervous. Maybe by then there will be more awareness and people won’t be afraid of spectrum quirks. Afraid of my son who wants nothing else but to make people laugh. I wish I could protect him forever.

80000 new blogs a day, yet someone thought they might locate one person in particular by searching for A n g i e ‘ s B l o g. Well? Did it work? Am I the bitch you were seeking?

MB2 got home late tonight from his St. Louis trip. He’s been gone since Thursday. He spent every dime of the spending money I gave him buying gifts for everyone. He couldn’t find anything decent for MD and I, so he bought us a gift card for music downloads. Sweet kid. Made him keep it for himself.

This cat is insane. Really. She stalks me as I tend to my day, and then chases me when the time is right. Then she engages in upright warfare when I turn to chase her back. She hurls herself at the door when someone locks her downstairs. She picks up the kids’ toys and busts ass out the door to hide her treasure behind the couch. She has claimed all baskets as her personal sleeping quarters. She licks lips and cheeks and eyebrows – mostly when you are sleeping. She purrs louder than any cat I’ve ever had – and I’ve had my share. And here she is, trying to wrap herself around the mouse for a little shuteye. Guess that’s my cue that she’s ready for bed.

Few more have fallen victim to the strep bastard. She’s going to call in a script for the whole damn family. Someone is the carrier, as I can’t possibly sterilize anything else in this house. Maybe this way we can be rid of this shit once and for all. I’m going broke buying toothbrushes.

MD is about to fall over and never get up. That man is so damn tired. He’s put in close to 75 hours each week this month, and it probably won’t slow up till the spring. Only breaks they’re looking at will be the upcoming holidays, and they can’t get here fast enough. I wish I could split the work with him. Work Eat Sleep. What a life.

Something must be working I guess. I’ve been pretty level for over a month now. Boring, but level. I’ve even lost ………… a whole pound! Yeee hawww. At least that fucking scale moved. I was starting to think it couldn’t go down. My appetite is markedly diminished. I wonder if that’s the wellbutrin. I know that someone walked by me with a cigarette and I was sick to my stomach for two hours. There’s no way someone could smoke while taking this shit – least I couldn’t. Bleh.

A few days ago MG asked me what the cigarette lighter in the van was for. I told her it was for lighting cigarettes. She asked if me and daddy used it, and I said – No honey, we don’t smoke. Felt so strange to say that. I never thought I would – could – say that. I’m so very thankful and glad that I can say that. I will never go back. Not now. I don’t miss that shit at all.

Now, how many that quit with me are still quit? That’s what I’d like to know….

My head is pounding. Hope that strep shit isn’t trying to put the move on me. I feel like shit already. MB3 is starting to feel better though. He gets one more round before his tonsils go bye bye. She said it might just be in the genes. Seems to be a lot of genetic issues coming to light with this family lately. Probably best I didn’t know about it before having children. Might not be any children.

MoodySister had several genetic screenings done a few months back though, and they all came back negative. Thank God. Would have meant bad news for all of us. They have three more they want her to do, and as long as the insurance picks up the $3K tab – she’ll do it.

She’s doing so much better. I know she finds the chemo break delightful. Still three weeks to go before that starts back up again. I hope the pause in treatment won’t affect anything. Make it less potent or something. Not sure how that works.

I feel like I’m spinning my wheels again. Dammit. I DO feel better, but the zesty zing seems to have petered out. Maybe that seasonal depression shit makes a bit of a mark on me. It’s fucking cold outside. I’d rather my fall be served chilly, thanks.

MB3 is home today with a sore throat, a headache, and a fever. Yeah, I know. And he just finished the meds for the last round of strep three days ago. Wonder who else he’ll invite to share in his misery? And I wonder who is The Carrier of this strep shit. Someone has to be passing it out to my kids every so many months. What a crock. We ALWAYS deal with strep.

And I have another kidney infection. I feel flat out awful. Keep this shit up, and I’ll be getting another fun filled day with a camera shoved up my gawd knows where to see why I always have trouble in the UTI/kidney department. Not sure I want to know.

Top it off, I have 3 conferences tonight. MD won’t be home till late again, so I’m on my own. Maybe I’ll make MB1 babysit for me. He’s always looking for a buck or two. Let’s hope those grades came up a little from when I checked them last.

Random thoughts….

Since the notebook is back, he’s using it again for numbers. He insisted I read it last night, and it had some of the story and a few other sentences about his family on it. The other side had math problems on it. One caught my eye …… 5×6=30 , but it was crossed out. Then it was written again, and crossed out. And again, and crossed out. Over and over.

When I asked him why they were crossed out, he said it was because they were wrong – or at least he assumed it was wrong. I told him 30 was indeed correct, and he just smiled, said “see, I’m smart”, and walked away.

Maybe I’m reading too much into it. Maybe my perception of what a 6yo’s awareness level should be is off. But it didn’t occur to him that he was coming up with the same answer over and over. He doesn’t …. can’t draw connections like that. He didn’t or couldn’t trust that 30 was the correct answer even though he had come up with it every single time? Maybe that’s the problem. It doesn’t occur to him so he isn’t aware. He couldn’t verify the answers to each other because each problem was a separate undertaking. A do-over. Guess that makes sense. To him anyway. Still bothers me to see it.

Soccer practice ….

Exercise where two lines are formed. Goalie line and shot line. When MB4 was the goalie, the ball landed at his feet. He turned around and kicked the shit outta that ball – right in the net. Then he hollered YES! The coach didn’t know what to say, as I think we scared him a bit with this whole ’spectrum’ thing, so he patted his back and said ‘good job’ while the other kids looked puzzled. MB4 skipped to the end of the shot line without noticing. We’ve tried explaining the basic rules to him a hundred times. It’s not getting through for some reason, although he’ll recite the correct object of the game if you ask him. Like a parrot. He seems to be ok on the field. Maybe the coach should just keep goalie off of MB4’s agenda.

School Note …

Library notice that a book was overdue and I owed $5. !!!!!! First notice I had seen. Ask MB4 about it, he initially can’t recall book. Then he does, but claims it’s in the classroom. Must have mixed it up with one of the teacher’s books. Tells me he’ll get it in the morning. I’m relieved that he’s so lucid and cognitive about it. So I then scribble a note about late notices before late fees and stomp off to get $5 and an envelope.

I come back to the kitchen and ask MB4 if he had received any other notices before I sent off this kinda-sorta ass-chewing note to the librarian. He asked me about what. I said about the overdue book. What book. I told him which one. He has no idea what I’m talking about. I tried to trigger it in his brain – You know, the one you mistook for a classroom book? The one you’re returning in the morning?

Nada.

I spend the next 5 minutes talking about this book with him. His eyes finally light up. Finally. I don’t know where it is. Told him I thought he was returning it in the morning and how could he do that if he didn’t know where it was. Blank stare and blinking eyes. I begged him to pay attention and think really hard about where this book was. What book.

I then added to my note that MB4 is not allowed to check out books from the library anymore if more care couldn’t be taken to prevent this kind of thing from happening. That I wasn’t about to spend $5 a month so he could check out a book and lose it in the classroom somewhere.

I don’t know if that’s the right thing to do. I don’t know if I had a right to be a pissy at the librarian for the lack of notices and the teacher for not having a more structured system for these very small humans ESPECIALLY this one who I WARNED her would do shit like this and the fucking school system itself for brushing his issues aside. They are going to have their hands full when these easy school days are over and MB4 can’t float by on his fantastic concrete abilities anymore and enters the world of abstract reasoning and thinking outside the box and essay questions and book reports.

Got the feeling from MD that I might wanna tear up the note and start over, but I didn’t. Should be interesting to get his bookbag today.

Her gallbladder function level was zilcho. They removed it, and while he was in there, he noticed that the scar tissue from her colon surgery had grown twisted. Had she not had this gallbladder trouble, it could have been very serious later on. So, he opened her up, fixed it, and took a peek at her liver while he was there as well – which looks perfect.

She’ll be out of the chemo loop for a few weeks, not that she minds.

Thanks for the thoughts.

Yay or nay? Has anyone tried it? Does it work? Would it be THE solution for my teenage boys who are starting to stress about their breakouts? Or should I be looking at more short-term, quick-fix solutions for them? Does this take awhile to work?

Poor kids. At least as a girl I could cover mine up.

I was on my game today. Redid the family planner. Followed it. Knocked shit out all day around the house – right on schedule. Feel better than I have in a few months in that aspect. Glad something is getting back to normal.

I haven’t really been on a schedule since taking these pills. I hope that means the Wellbutrin is working. My next appt is in Dec, and I have decided that if I don’t have my ……. spirit? Essence? Whatever it is that makes me me. The part that I cannot live without. The part that makes no sense to live without. If that’s not back by then, I’m going to tell him to wean me from the depakote. From all of it. I swallow 6 pills every day while blinking back tears because of what they rob me of. I’m tired of it. Need this one because of this, that one because of what this one does, this one to combat this reaction. Fuck that. I just need me and my family and friends.

They are all aware of my …. situation now. It’s no secret. I’m not the type to give a flying fuck who knows what, so everyone knows that ole Ang is like she is for a reason. Everyone in my life is better educated about bipolar disorder now. Especially since my nephew was diagnosed as well.

So wouldn’t that mean that I have a support base that I’ve never had before? That people would be quick to jump up and holler when my train jumps the track? People that were hesitant or afraid or turning a blind eye before? People that didn’t know wtf was wrong with me, but made allowances for me because they loved me? Wouldn’t they step up now and say something?

I think so. I know so. Circle the wagons and cage the werewolf till the full moon passes.

Yet as I finish draining these thoughts from my mind I remember that I cannot trust my mind and suddenly I find myself hoping that my me returns on its own before my appt so we don’t have to give the whole family and friends network thing a go – just in case they fail and I end up hooking for meth money in California somewhere.

And to top off this shitty end to a once happy and self assured post, I am exactly the same weight I was exactly a year ago this month when I first realized I was packing some padding. Isn’t that a cause for celebration? Too bad I don’t eat treats anymore. Too bad I don’t do chips. Too bad I have cut out everyfuckingthing I enjoy – INCLUDING MY SMOKES – from my life and I am NOT A HAPPY FUCKING CAMPER RIGHT NOW.

Geezus. I think I might have a mood disorder or something.

My sister is back in the hospital. She’s been having severe stomach pain for about 3-4 days now. They think it’s her gallbladder, and are planning on removing it sometime today or tomorrow. I hope they know what they’re doing. I hope this isn’t the hospital that punctured her lung. She was supposed to go in for chemo today, but that ain’t happening. And her white blood count is very low as well. I wish I knew what all this meant.

Sure did stop me in my tracks though. I’ll hug my boys before I bitch at them.

I got a call from the middle school today to schedule MB2’s conference. It reminded me that first quarter is coming to an end, or maybe it has already, and I haven’t checked their grades since midterm.

Holy Fuck. The only child who will survive the night is MB4, who has damn near 100s across the board. Yeah, I realize it’s only first grade, but they expect a lot from kids nowadays. Besides, given his situation, he’s doing bloody awesome this year.

But the other boys? I see phones being yanked out of walls and tvs being removed and sports being stopped and requests for sleepovers laughed at. Dammit. I usually stay on top of their grades better than this. That way I can get them back on track when needed – which usually means riding that ass for two of them and helping the other.

I’m not talking BAD grades, but they’re bad to me. I expect As and Bs. I just do. Cs are not allowed. Perhaps if I wasn’t privy to their standardized test scores to see that they are capable, intelligent little humans, but I am. I KNOW what they can do. I KNOW how much time and effort gets put into homework at night. So if the grades are shit, but the boy never brings a book home – oh hell no. Heads will roll. Now if the grade is shit and yet the boy busts ass every night – which happens as well, then of course we help and struggle right along with him. But lately, all my boys have been jet-settin’ outta here like their asses are on fire with tales of no homework or unwasted study halls.

My ass. All three of them have 3 grades in the C range. 3. THREE!! THREE WITH THREE!! I have failed. I feel like a fucking failure, I swear to gawd. My hands are shaking thinking about MB1’s college scholarships being flushed right down the toilet and he could care less. I warned him. Florida State will be a mirage that slips through his fingers. I’ll send his ass to Uncle Sam he keeps this up. Holy shit I’m in a bad mood now. Or depressed. Think I’m going to be sick.

And don’t tell me I’m making a big deal out of this. This is a big deal around here. This hasn’t happened before. My boys usually get awesome grades – but yes, I usually have to ride that ass. So I guess it is my fault. I haven’t been checking up on them, nudging them back onto the path like I usually do. It’s these fucking pills that prevent me from multi-tasking like a muthafucka.

I need to take a walk and blow off some steam before these boys get home.

We unpacked a few more boxes the past few days. Mostly books and movies for the kids. Filled up an entire (huge) bookshelf, and there’s still more to unpack. The 3 youngest went batshit.

MG wanted to watch EveryFuckingMovieRightThisMinute. I thought she might piss herself when she saw all those fairy princess disney movies. Then she looked at us with harsh squinty eyes and asked why we had hid these from her. She’s been watching them non-stop for two days now. Since there are probably close to 100 movies in there, we might get our tv back sometime around June. Or perhaps one of the boys will come home to find their tv gone. Or maybe it’s time to give up and get her that pink tv/vcr combo and let her have at it.

MB5 just squeals and dumps the books on the floor. And given his crazo mother’s need for order, every few hours an attempt is made to replace them to their rightful place. Which only sends a message to KingKong to destroy the shit again.

MB4 was excited to see the books. Then he tried to read one, and found it above his level. So he got pissed. Then I pointed out the Dr. Suess books and some other sets more appropriate for a first grader, and he grew excited again. He read 7 books that first night – by himself. More last night. I was thrilled at first, till I saw him writing in his notebook this morning. I haven’t seen that notebook since he started taking the Zoloft. He was writing the stories in it – copying them word for word from the book. I asked him why he was doing this, and he said he needed to – it was homework. I told him he didn’t need to, but he ignored me. So, I’m glad he’s reading, but I don’t like the senseless bullshit that’s crept back as a result. Or maybe it’s a coincidence. I don’t know. I’ll ask his pdoc at his next appt.

I’m sitting here watching my two youngest children as they watch Adult Swim. I’m sooo mother of the year material. They aren’t the slightest bit tired, even though they both got up at son-of-a-bitch-it’s-early o’clock. Before the alarm. Before MD’s alarm. That’s early. That’s bordering on criminal. And now they sit and giggle at a foul mouthed baby and a talking dog even though they have no fucking idea what they are laughing about.

I was bored earlier and gave myself a few bangs. I don’t recommend it as a boredom remedy. I made them the longer variety in case I hated them so they wouldn’t be that noticeable. I now have these pesky fucking flying things that target my eyeballs when I move my head. I had forgotten how irritating they are. Although, I’m still tempted to create a few more to help hide this landing zone forehead of mine. Damn shitty self image bullshit.

MD has 4 more volleyball games of the season. The boys each have 2 more soccer games a piece. As much as I love watching them play – I can’t say I’m sad to see this shit end for awhile. It all starts back up again in the spring. I’m hoping to own a taxi company by then.

MB2 has a girlfriend. She lives in the town about 30-40 minutes north of here. They met at youth church. They were IMing tales of woe over the probability that they won’t be seeing too many movies together, and her mother over’heard’ ….. over’saw’……… wtf ever…. and told them that she would be willing to take them to town for mini golf or something. Guess that means I have to pitch in somewhere as well. Guess that also means I have a permanent laundry bitch as long as this relationship lasts. These kids sure are lucky neither of us parental units seem phased by 13yo’s wanting to go on a ‘date’. Guess it ain’t much different than the endless skating parties we used to go to when I was younger.

Alright. Gotta run. Can’t type and listen to meatwad and the gang at the same time.

It’s really fucking quiet around here.

I have a new project to do around the house, and I feel rejuvenated. I’m ripping down the panelling. All of it. Kitchen, hallway, dining room, and bedroom. It ain’t a pretty sight underneath that shit either. I took one piece down and was greeted with some hot fudge swirl looking shit where the glue ripped off the back of the panelling and stuck to the drywall. I figured it was either this or spend many moons trying to make it workable. Probably just buy some thin drywall sheets to throw up over the old bumpy shit anyway. But this half ass chair rail or whatever the hell it is has to come down. It just doesn’t look right.

I’m getting the colors together to do a color block on one wall of our bedroom. The panelling wall – after I rip that bitch down, that is. Slate blues and pale coppers. Matches our bedroom set and looks comforting as hell. Hope it looks ok on the wall though. Will be the ‘main’ wall. The one where the bed rests against. The color blocks can be as loud as you want, but using the muted tones should make it a visual delight – not a distraction. Guess we’ll see.

MD will be working in KC this week. Another long one ahead, in other words. I’m tired just thinking about it. I know he is too. It’ll be a long winter at this rate.

You tend to forget just how long it truly takes to unpack all of your shit when you move. That might be because we stopped emptying all the boxes years ago. When you move as much as we have, you get tired of the knick knack patty whack give me a fucking break doo-dads that don’t make a shits difference to your daily function of life. So you leave them in a box. Out of sight somewhere so you’re not reminded each and every day that you still don’t have that house yet.

Then one day you get that house. And you have to unpack those boxes. I thought that sentence would read that I GET TO unpack them, but if you’ll back up just a tad you’ll see that I actually typed HAVE TO unpack – two very different meanings indeed. I teeter between the two feelings every thirty minutes or so.

I just spent the past 4 hours emptying 5 boxes. Trying to find places for our precious doo-dads and pictures and movies and books and figurines and china dolls and stupid shit MD picked up in Germany that he thinks looks really cool but is hideous as hell and I have to find an extra special place for it. Four hours of my life, and there are still around 12 or so boxes to go. It’ll take longer and get harder as the memories keep slowing me down, but I don’t mind.

I hope this is the meds finally working, and I’m not just on a mild manic high. I’d hate to lose how I feel this week. Totally fucking blessed and absolutely alive.

Would you spend $17 to have a 2″ flower cutting sent to you? Decisions Decisions. Seems a bit steep, but that’s what I get for being in love with a southern native. And it’ll be a huge PITA to take care of to boot, since it sure as hell won’t approve of this weather. But I can’t help myself. I’ll baby that bitch to death when I finally break down and spend the fortune it’s going to cost to buy one – especially since it won’t be just one. The Brazilian Plume comes in several beautiful colors, plus a hybrid that’s just breathtaking, and I must have them all. Simply my favorite flower.

Pictures don’t do it justice. It’s amazing to see in person. If anyone knows of a good online nursery that deals in tropical plants, let me know please. Having a hard time finding places that sell them.

Oh Yeah, Oh Yeah, Oh Yeah Yeah Yeah. Archives are back. Fresh install. Wiped that bitch clean. Now to do some new backups and clean out those old fucked up backups so I never have this problem again. Then to go through and make sure my old posts aren’t too …… detailed. Specific. The reason I hid them in the first place.

Oh yeah, then plugins and everyfuckingthing else that comes along with a freshie install. Yay.

But I feel like working on it. Damn, I feel like using my brain.
That hasn’t happened in a very long time.

I have managed to merge my old and new entries into one blog. Too bad it’s on a test site for now. I’ll get around to getting everything set up here, but I want to do a fresh install with the new version and all that jazz. Add in another kiddo with strep, it could take a few. At least I feel like working on it – that’s damn fine news. Might mean my brain juice is slowly seeping back into place. THe fact that I figured out sql enough to fix my db tables makes me wanna kiss my own ass. Never thought that possible.

I was jumping over the entries after I got them imported to make sure everything seemed in order, and found myself getting tripped up into reading for spurts of time. Then I would remember that I was merely checking dates and comments and skip onto another month.

In the end, I gave in and allowed myself to read damn near 3 months worth of archives. Brought back a lot of memories. A lot of smiles. Tears. Brought to mind a few people that I hadn’t thought of in awhile. People that used to be a big part of my life here in bloggy bloggy land, but aren’t now. I’m not going to mention their names because the list is long, but I’m sad that they aren’t around anymore. And if I used to read and you changed locations – fill me in. There for awhile I wasn’t reading anyone, and I missed out on a lot of announcements. I’d like to fill up my blogroll again.

Alrighty then, time to get back to business.

I have a very big problem. The kind that makes you sick to your stomach – if you’re a freak like me, that is.

I think I may have fucked up my database backups. My archives. The archives for this site – the past 3 fucking years of my life. I was able to somehow salvage up till Sept of ‘04, but the span between then and Feb of ‘05 is gone. Or will be gone if I can’t figure out how to ……. ummm….. make a table?

I can open the saved files – at first it looks like a heap of shit, but if you look carefully, you can see the old posts – all of them. I knew I made a backup, I guess I just didn’t know how to do it properly. Somehow I saved it without a table? I went in and created a new blog for testing purposes, restored the sql file, created a wp-posts table with all the correct fields and shit, but I don’t know how to get the info IN it. Or do I have to do this for every fucking thing in that file? I just want the posts and the comments – do I have to have the rest too? Is this even going to work? Am I making any sense? Is it obvious that I feel I deserve a fucking brainiac award for just figuring out how to MAKE a table?? Because I do, yanno. I felt like Albert Fucking Einstein when I recreated the wp_posts table based on my current db files with all the correct field info and shit. Of course, then I sat back and expected the posts to jump on in there, and they did not. Bastards.

I feel sick. Honest to gawd sick to my stomach. Damn Damn Damn.

Dog sitting for my parents again. Cat not happy. Cat want to kill. Cat living downstairs this week.

MB3 & MG have strep, and I just had to run and get MB4 from school for a 104 degree temp, a headache, and a sore throat. Doc’s just going to call in more meds. Now I have a headache and my eyes are extremely heavy. Dammit. Hope it’s just stress.

MD is working insane hours. Over 70 last week. Probably stay that way for awhile. Checks are nice, but I hate not having him around.

Soccer season is in its last few weeks. Till the spring anyway. I’ll be glad. Last night one kiddo’s practice ended at 5:45, another had a game from 6-7, and another needed picked up from his game at 7:15. Luckily, this town is small, and I can fly here and fly there and so far I’ve made it work out. Unfortunately, that means I have only been to one of MB1’s games since they are at the complex in the next town. MD has made it to a few after work, but still. I want them to know that I give a shit to watch them play. Even if I’m too chicken shit to leave the van to do it. Although the last few games I’ve gotten out and watched from the sides – yeeehaw. How’s that for not fucked up? Gawd.

I have no projects to do now, and I’m bored. Oh sure, there is tons to do still, but they require money, and while he’ll be making more the next few weeks – we haven’t decided what to do, and I’d hate to redo a redo. So, I’ll wander around looking for something to scrape I guess. Something I can rip up. Destroy. Hey, maybe I can start cleaning again. Nah, I ain’t that bored.

This computer is trying to die on me. Not sure what the problem is. This is the first time I’ve been able to boot her up in over 4 hours. Was getting a keyboard error before – no matter what keyboard I used. Then it would beep these insane beeps and give the fabulous black screen.

This bitch is only a year old – if that. I’m not happy right now. Not happy at all.

MD worked most of Saturday, so he’s been too exhausted this weekend to do much. We did manage to hit the pumpkin patch today, but MB1 wanted to hang around the house instead of going with us. I don’t like this growing up and letting go shit very much.

No school tomorrow. Fun for me. MB1 has two guests over tonight – the brothers that originally wanted to buy this house. They are buying another one, so while everything worked out, it still feels awkward to me. They said it doesn’t even look like the same place. Thank you. Thank you. bow

I’m off to put up a few new pics and then …….. dunno……play Atomica or some stupid shit.

MB4’s speech gal was at a convention a few weeks ago, and learned about a new toy resource to use with him. Basically, they are scenario cards, but the ending is missing. He picks A B or C, and then he gets this little key chain flashlight to light up the card to see if his answer was the underlined one (the correct one). He didn’t get any right. But he had fun playing. In this case, that’s all that counts.

I’m going to look into finding these types of cards of my own. Poor kid ain’t going to make it through school if he can’t draw logical conclusions at a very basic level. The cards she used were for 3 year olds. That’s where his comprehension levels is.

Amazing that he’s only brought home one paper so far this year that hasn’t been a perfect score.

So, if the medication puts me in my right mind, and my right mind still doesn’t want to be medicated, then shouldn’t that count for something?

Damn, I don’t want to fuck up our lives again, but I can’t live like this forever. Nothing phases me. I am emotionless. Amazing how a few weeks on a new drug can steer your brain into new directions, eh? From sad and crying to stoic and apathetic. Not in a cold way though, nothing like that. I’m still able to feel – just on an extremely light level. Backed to being wrapped in plastic. Protected, but bored. And boring.

Didn’t even take a month to bounce this time. Meds. No meds. Meds. No meds. I ain’t playing this game for the rest of my life.

MD picked me up another mug at a gas station up the street, but it’s not the same. For one thing, it’s so damn big that I need a wagon to haul it around with. And that means it’s also too big for just one can of DP. That leads to a problem of whether or not to add more ice and more soda, or to leave it only halfway full. See? I can’t handle these problems right now. I need my mug back.

To those angels who have sent emails and comments asking me to describe what it looked like so as to find me another – well, it was ugly. Think it said Truckers Move America or something like that on it, and Petro on it somewhere. Grey/green/black. Very man-ish. Not too tall, and not too wide. Guessing it had to be insulated since it didn’t sweat, but it wasn’t THAT thick. It was simply perfect. One size all the way down. Didn’t fit into car cup carriers. I’d say it wasn’t anymore than 7 inches high. Maybe 6.

It’s been so long, they probably stopped making those kind.

All 4 boys are walking in the parade tomorrow. Homecoming. Already. And MY SON is actually GOING to the dance. Geezus, I’m old. It’s going to be cold as a sumbitch tomorrow, so I’ll bundle the little ones up good and watch from the van. Open the side door and let the walls protect us from the wind a bit. Should go right past our house.

Damn, all of a sudden I’m sleepy as hell. Fucking meds.

I stood on that ladder for 9 hours yesterday. Whole body is stiff today. Only part I didn’t get done was the part I was most interested in. Figures. Will tackle that this weekend I guess. Then to decide what to do with the panelling. Perhaps I’ll post pics and take suggestions. Lord knows I’m not the decorative type.

Had to turn the heat on this morning. Still haven’t decided if I’m headed back to bed to snuggle up with MG or not. From 90 degrees two days ago to this. At least I know the ac/heat work well in this house – and quickly. I was worried about that. Especially downstairs. I didn’t want the boys to be chilly this winter, but it turns out they’ll be warmer than we are. And it was cooler down there when I had the ac on a few days ago. Can’t wait to see the utilities bills for this place.

Alright. Errand day, so I guess I’ll drag my tired ass to the shower. I just had to put off running these until the cold snap came through. I hate freezing my ass off.

I’m scraping. I’m sweating. I think I’ll be stinking here in a bit. Sure wish I had a nice cold DP to cool me off instead of this watered down shiznit in this tard of a mug. At least my hand is nice and refreshed from the beads of sweat rolling down the side of it. Gah.

I have nothing planned for today except the kitchen. I hope to have the walls finished. Well, finished in terms of removing the obscene wallpaper. I’m going to have to do a textured paint job on the area above the main part of the kitchen, as they applied the wallpaper on top of old wallpaper on top of drywall. And it’s nasty. Nasty. Shit falling all over the place. Large pieces of plaster or something. MD wants me to wait until the weekend so he can assess the situation and possibly sand it. Whatever. I’m plucking this chicken, and if I fuck it, I fuck it up.

It’s my house, don’tcha know.

I bought a new mug. It sucks. Majorly. Anyone live near a Petro truck stop? Serious to gawd, I will pay you to send me a mug. An ugly ass Petro mug.

I’m so sad. Over a coffee mug. How pathetic is that?

Anyone who knows me, knows MyMug. It’s with me always. Always. I am never without MyMug.

MyMug is perfect in every way. It holds exactly one can of DrPepper when filled to the brim with ice, and will keep that can cold and water-y’ed-down-free for over 6 hours. SIX hours. WITHOUT sweat on the outside. Fit my hand perfectly. Just fits me dammit. I’ve had that mug for over 6 years – longer than 3 of my own children.

So could someone please explain to the wee one why he is grounded for the rest of his life for breaking it? He brought it down upon his head, not only wasting precious DP – a crime punishable by no oatmeal cookies all in itself – but also causing MyMug to split into pieces. He keeps whining about his awkward age and bumbly fingers and how he’s suffered enough by shitting himself when the ice cold soda pop rained down on his body – but I ain’t satisfied.

Goodbye my ugly ass old mug.

Think I’m taking a break today from the wallpaper. My hands are on strike. MD attacked the garage yesterday and we can at least walk around in there now. Will take awhile to get things sorted, as we still have a run to the landfill to make. Lots of old lumber and such. Then he installed safety latches for me, reattached the cabinet that had to be taken down and trimmed to fit my fridge, and hooked up the kids’ cable for their puter. All while I was scraping my ass off in the kitchen. No, I’m not bitter.

Lots of ideas for the house, but those are going on a list until we build up an emergency fund. Also going to make a list of things to check for when buying my DreamHouse.

Things like making sure there is more than one fucking outlet in the kitchen. Yeah. One. Oh, there are some clear over on the opposite wall, but only one in the guts of the kitchen – where you need them. Brilliant. We got a few utility carts to put our appliances on along the far wall, but I had wanted a portion of that wall knocked down to open up the living room. Guess that ain’t going to happen now.

And like making sure there is at least one outlet of the three pong variety. Or that not all of the outlets are upside down, making it impossible to use any sort of real nightlight for my baby girl because the taller slotted insert-y piece makes me have to insert the whole damn thing upside down and the pretty attachment looks stupid upside down. Big troubles when the seashell is upside down, yanno.

My lava lamp got broken somehow. Bitches. I tell ya, can’t even have one thing for myself without someone wrecking the damn thing.

Boys’ new living quarters smells like ass and feet. It didn’t when we moved in, so I’m quite sure it’s THEIR ass and feet. Loverly. And my laundry room is down there, so I’m holding together a swoon while folding down clothes. They are in hog heaven though. Obviously, literally.

Meds must be working, because I feel normal. Boring, actually. But at least not hollow anymore. Boring I can handle. For now anyway. I am disturbed by the weight I’ve gained the past two weeks – when he swore I shouldn’t gain any on this one. Yet, here I am – 5 lbs heavier. Liars.

Can’t believe it’s October already. Probably because it’s 90 degrees outside. Bastard weather. I’d better get my ass to the post office before it gets too hot. Going to mail the banner we received from the Light The Night walk to Shawn’s parents. I need to finish the letter too. Altogether, we raised $479. Not bad for a first go-round. Had the largest local team, and got to see some old friends that I haven’t seen since high school. Going to get started early next year, and MB1 and his friend have already volunteered to organize a car wash at their high school for it. Gee, can’t imagine why they would be so generous.

What are the odds of having two of my children sleepwalk on a semi-regular basis? What are the odds of both of them doing it on the same night? What are the odds of both of them pissing somewhere other than the toilet during these episodes? What are the odds that my eldest son would bear witness to both escapades, yet wouldn’t be able to wake either of his parents from their OhMyGawdThisHouseShitIsHardWork comas? What are the odds that this teenager would miraculously overcome his allergy to work and clean up the piss piles all by himself?

Miracles happen people. Miracles happen.