I had a dream about a month ago. I smiled at an old lady at the store. She smiled back and told me to enjoy every drop of my life because it wouldn’t last much longer. Because this was my dream and not real life where I would have looked at her in horror and hurried away, I casually asked her if it’s cancer. She said she would only tell me one thing — that I’ll know the countdown has begun when I hear the music. I told her I didn’t get it, so she explained that I will suddenly hear my favorite songs in my head every so often throughout the day. When I have no more favorites, my time is over.

I forgot about it. Until this week. This week when these fucking songs keep blasting in my head out of nowhere and are songs that I haven’t heard in years. ….. YEARS …. and I am so damn happy to have thought of them. .. then I remembered the dream.

Yes I AM nutty enough to be nervous about this. About 3-4 songs a day, has been happening about 4-5 days now ….. I’ve tried and tried to guess how many favorites I have had over the years. Not enough to last very long at this rate.

A part of me feels silly for even posting this. A part of me wants someone to lift the curse the old broad put on me.

Can we stop saying that people lost their fight with cancer? It belittles their battle.

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People who fault themselves when their toddlers get into cabinets and detroy every shred of toilet paper in the house are not teaching those toddlers to be accountable for their actions and that’s why there are so many fucking losers in the world today.

Think I’m a bit ….. up. Not going to say manic, ’cause that would disgust me.

ANyhoooo. ….. I’m spending money on the house and ME lately (although my spending money is probably not what others considering “spending money”), I’m kicked into high gear (if you catch my drift) regardless of the risperdal, very explosive, brain feels sharper, not tired, not hungry…

Not bad, just enough to notice. And enjoy while it lasts.

I will say that it’s delightful having a mental illness. In this current half and half state, I get to be horrified by the twisted shit that comes out of my mouth. Not that I’m going to stop saying it, but at least I’m aware of it every now and again.
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I’m stalling on the side bar, can you tell? I don’t know if I can do it. HTML might as well be french. I’ll get it, I’ll get it.

I put that lotion on yesterday afternoon and my hands are still soft. I’m am not even lying. For my hands to be soft for half an hour would have been something special, so this is fabulous. Ok, enough about them.

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My food problem is back. Things have been tasting a little off the past few weeks, and it’s changing over to the food tasting like poison ass. My appetite is gone too. Haven’t eaten anything but dinner in about a month. And dinner is a maybe. I try to eat whenever the urge hits me and I give it whatever the urge wants to eat. Think that’s what has kept me from feeling like I did last time.

Gawd, last time. I blamed that shit on topamax. I still think it was, but then why this now? I haven’t taken that shit in two months. Surely it’s gone by now. I just want to eat again.

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MD’s deodorant isn’t working well lately, and he’s really upset about it. Any particular reason it might do that? He hasn’t really changed anything he is doing.

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Have 16 donated items so far for the tourney, and that’s only 2 days of calling. We still have 3-4 months. I’d like to do a car wash when it gets warmer. Anything I should know about doing one?

Synopsis

They’re huge. They’re pre-hysterical. The Sinclairs are back in their final two seasons of Earth-shaking fun as they face the challenges of everyday life in sixty million and three BC. Baby turns two – and into a total terror. Daddy Earl confronts his “diaperphobia.” Charlene’s theory that the world is round lands her in scholastic hot water. Robbie deals with overwhelming pubescent urges, and in the final controversial episode, the family’s jumpin’ Jurassic lifestyle gets the big chill. The brainosauraus of Jim Henson, the award-winning comedy series brings state-of-the-art puppetry and audioanimatronics to the screen — and a whole new meaning to the words “family fun.” Add Seasons 3 and 4 to your collection of evolutionary entertainment – and get ready to rock your funny bones.

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Was ok. I didn’t watch it way back when, so I wasn’t likely to watch it now. I thought the kids would enjoy it, but they were more sort of sucked in against their will every now and then. Not one of them watched a complete episode. Well, I think MG did. She really wanted to like it, but it just wasn’t there.

I am a cheap bitch. If it’s a dollar, I’m all over it. But lately, I’ve been so damn frustrated trying to find quality, that I would rather pay more than to keep on with this cheap ass shit.

So, I tried Dove. Doesn’t matter what. Dove what. Insert item of choice. Shampoo, conditioner, mousse, hair spray, frizz control, quenching spray, deodorant …. I love them all. The conditioner especially. My gawd. I was stuck in that Pantene hell with my dry, course, curly hair, and Dove pulled me out of it. I can now shampoo my hair without fear of it breaking off. I can run my fingers through my hair. I can blow dry my hair straight if I have 5 hours to kill. The dark blue or light blue ones really help with the dry hair. Really.

And you all know that I’ve been searching for the right lotion since … since … I guess I’ve pretty much always been searching. My hands are so bad, the skin just rips apart if I rub it against something. My feet are just a nightmare, and the rest of me is just as dry. I’ve tried everything. I’ve asked everyone. I couldn’t find anything to help me.

So last month I went in to WalMart and bought a few trial sizes of some different lotions. Took ‘em home, tried ‘em out, and ruled ‘em out. Then I’d go back and load up with some more.

But I am now done looking. Curel – Ultra Healing – Intensive – Moisture Lotion For ExtraDry Skin – with extra-strength skin hydrators …….Heals and protects for 24 hours.

I wanted to make sure I got the entire label on there because never in my life have I run across a product that lives up to the hype ass bullshit they slap on the front of their bottle — until now.

My hands were r-o-u-g-h last week. I spaced out and used the ungloved hand to scrub the oven with for a second — that shit is wicked to your skin, and I dyed MB2’s for him, but we forgot gloves at the supply store, so I used my fingers — fucking ouch. That shit hurt so bad, I felt like I was getting electrocuted. This is when I tried the lotion, so I know it kicks ass.

This ultra healing stuff doesn’t leave you feeling slick or slimey or oily. It actually feels silky going on, and it soaks in pretty quickly. The smell is not strong or offensive, for those fellow scent induced migraine sufferers. And after? You are so smooth. And you’re not all white and flakey and rough. I honest to gawd feel like I’ve found gold. And, I thought I’d share, since you’ve all helped me over the years when I whine about dry skin.

Didn’t realize it had been so long since I was here. Getting busy again with Light The Night / Volley for the Cure. Will probably get the links up sometime this week. I already have the sponsor call list together – took 3 days to comb the phone book looking for the right kind of companies to call. We’re starting almost 2 months early, so I hope we get a decent amount of donated items for the raffles. The volleyball tournament is already scheduled for August 4th. Hopefully it will be warm and dry.

Things have been going great here. We’ve been outside working on the back yard all weekend. He starts working at the vball place tonight, and we knew life would get real hectic, so we spent a lot of time together with the kids. Trying to squeeze in as much family time as we can.

It’s this time of year when I don’t function well. MD will be working almost every night, and most of the day on Sunday. Doesn’t leave much time for family. But I know the cash helps so I am really going to try to handle this shit. Not much of a choice.

Got a great jump on the day this morning. Had the house cleaned, the floor scrubbed, the dishes done, the kitchen-bathroom-living rooms all picked up. Had the beds made. Had the little ones up, dressed, and fed. This was all by 9am. I was on a fantastic high when I sat down to read my email without any computer guilt because I was already almost done with my list for the day.

Then I saw an email that made my day even better. Not. Subject line said MB3’s grades – not a good sign. But MB3 always gets good grades and he never gets into trouble? So I read her email, and promptly started my blood boiling. He hadn’t been doing book reports (big part of his grade), and he’s not turning in assignments. He has a 38% in the class right now. Yeah. I ask him every day if he has homework. I ask him every day how far along he is with his reading. I love being lied to.

As I fumed, I grabbed the only load of laundry I had to wash. I managed to squeak out some joy about how awesome I was all week for keeping up with the laundry. Then I entered the laundry room and lost my fucking mind. There was a massive pile of clothes on the floor. An easy 3-4 loads worth. I could feel my mind snapping in half.

ALthough my day was ruined at 9am, I managed to slowly calm down by the time the kids got home from school. I told all of them that their plans for tomorrow were cancelled. They were having a laundry party instead. They didn’t bitch at all. I think my face indicated the pain that would come to those who fucked with me. Then I told everyone else to scram except MB3.

I tried to be calm, but I did end up screaming a bit. Not as much as I thought though. I told him what his teacher said, and he hung his head and said he was afraid to tell me. Then he went on to explain how he knew he has slacked off, but it was only in one class and it wasn’t that much. I told him that a 39% sounded pretty bad to me. So he had me check his grades, and I see that he’s only received two F’s so far this quarter, and last quarter he had an A. He bombed a quiz, and then the book report took care of the rest. The other book report was in Feb, and he said he simply screwed up and ran out of time. I started feeling a little better, although an F is an F. The rule is that you are grounded until the grade is a C. No nothing. He took that pretty well, and said his teacher said there is still time to bring it up. I hope so.

My nerves are shot.

Got a call from the school yesterday. They found the shittiest way ever to tell me that MB1 slipped on the bleachers and split his chin open. Stalling sumbitch. Turns out he didn’t split it open – he knocked out a chunk of his face and damn near crushed his Adam’s apple. Lovely. He’s looking pretty rough this morning and he’s still not talking very loudly, but I think he’ll survive.

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There was a knock on the door yesterday and there stood MB4’s friend. I say friend because he only has one. And so great that it happens to be the tazmanian devil. I said hi, and he asked me how long he was staying. ????? I looked out and saw his mom in the car, and then MB4 came into the room and started squealing. ??? I obviously needed to have a talk with MB4 about asking permission first, but the kid was already here and I didn’t want to feel like a douche bag by sending him away. I said, an hour or two? I guess. He ran back to the car, and I told MB4 the rules of friends coming over to play. He looked real sad and asked if his friend had to go home. I told him no, but now that he knows the rules, I will next time if he does it again.

4 hours later and she still hadn’t shown up. Hooker. I had her number, but she must have known how shitty I am about making phone calls. I sat there watching the window with my phone in my hand for 15 minutes, and then I found the balls to call. When she answered, I told her that I wasn’t sure what time they ate dinner, but we don’t eat until MD gets home, and that won’t be until 8pm. Then I told her that her son has told me that he’s really getting hungry (It was 7pm at this point. My kids are used to late dinners, he’s obviously not.). She tells me that her ex-husband is coming in from out of town with something and she’ll be here after he arrives. ????? That turned out to be an hour later, just as we are about to eat.

Never again.

If dad is better off than he was a year ago, does that mean we can expect another year? Just wondering.

My arm is shaking and jerking lately. Stupid pills. One causes this exact thing, and it’s starting to make me nervous. Tremors are fine, but jerky movements aren’t. Like I know the difference. I’ll wait until my appt.

MB2 finally cut his hair. Praise Gawd. He wanted the back cut since his neck is clearing up, but that didn’t work out so well with the long sides and front. It wasn’t a pretty sight. So he tried to fix it, and I tried to gently explain what happens when a person cuts their own hair. The end result was something ….. well I don’t know. The wedge gone goth. But, he went to school like that, and was in a foul mood the next day. I knew he felt stupid about his hair, so I asked him that night if he wanted me to run him to get it cut. He looked like he was going to cry he was so relieved. MD found a place that was still open, and I took him to fix it. She gave him exactly what he wanted. Crisis resolved.

He’s gone tanning twice, and his arms, his neck, his chest, and his back are almost completely clear. I can’t begin to tell you how covered he was before. Everywhere. He wants to go again this week to give his legs another zap. They were the worst, and aren’t doing as well – although they have been reduced by half. I guess I take him. He wore short sleeves the other day. First time in over a year. Last summer included.

MB2 uses special soaps and lotions and creams, and not a one of them are decently priced. Little high end for me. But, the doc suggested it, so I’m buying it. Plus, they have really helped.Because my luck is fantastic, it’s the only thing I need from the next town over and gas is $2.62. That damn cream is going to cost me a million dollars.

This is stability. It’s what we’ve been looking for. Life is as normal around here as it is with any other family, families with 6 kids. Life now has a smooth, relaxed rhythm to it. MD’s happy now. The kids seem happy. I’m very happy.

So how come every day — every single day — I dream about throwing these fucking pills away?

Anniversary was nice. Had a perfectly lovely week, actually. MD was home on vacation last week. First time off he’s had in 7 years. And you know what he did? He went to work almost every day at the other job. Again, I wish we’d win millions so he could do what he wanted for a change. Doesn’t everyone though?

MB5 is talking more and more. I’d say you can understand about 75% of what he’s saying – if you’re family. 50% if you’re not. He’s also getting more and more anal. At least he’s not showing any signs of spectrum shit. I doubt I could handle that.

Dad is on a new chemo that only takes one day – no more pump. It makes him a little sick, but not too bad. Then he’s fine for 2 weeks. My parents are worried that it’s not working because he’s not sick. I hope that’s not the case. He really looks great. He talks about his death and what needs to be done before then. And then afterward. He’s already going through his things and ‘marking’ them for certain people. It bothers me, but it’s getting easier. I know that nothing can prepare me for his death, but maybe talking like this is will help make things easier for what needs to be done after he’s gone. I don’t know. I hope so.

I almost shut this site down this morning. I hate not being able to post every day. Just isn’t in me. Not sure if it ever will be taking these pills. Probably not. But I have to take them. A stable life is more important than writing here, and my life has never been more stable than it is right now.

17 years. Wow.

Well, not as bad as I thought it was gonna be. Hasn’t shrunk, but it hasn’t grown either, and that’s amazing considering he had surgery and no chemo for 3 months afterward. Doc isn’t happy with results though, and is changing the chemo again. Doc said he’s in a better place than he was a year ago, so that should mean something, eh?

Just doesn’t seem like there’s anything important to say as we wait for dad’s test results. He finds out in about two hours. I think he’s been hinting that he won’t continue the chemo if the news isn’t good. Keeps talking about how tired he is of doing it, and how he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep it up. If he hears today that it’s doing nothing? I just don’t see him doing any more treatments. I used to be his biggest supporter of stopping if it’s what he wants to do, but now that it might actually be time to quit, it’s causing a panic inside me. That would be it. Stopping chemo means …… well, we all know what it means. And everytime I try to think about it, my mind explodes and shuts down.

I sure hope there’s some good news today.