I'm the one who's not sentimental. I'm the one who gathered with the other moms for coffee on that first day of preschool and while they blubbered about how their PRESHUS BAYBEES were growing up and they couldn't stand it, I was all, "Are you going to finish that scone?" and "This is the first uninterrupted cup of coffee I've had in three years!" It's not that I'm in a hurry for my kids to grow up, it's just that... it happens. And so far I've only liked them more, the older they've gotten. And sometimes, yeah, it feels like a grind---inbetween the rainbows and fluffy bunnies and tender...
It's amazing how many things you can pack into any given day between dragging your butt out of bed late and then sinking into a catatonic slump shortly after lunch, and then between wiping the drool from your chin later that afternoon and falling into bed shortly after the children. (Related: I seem to be drinking a lot more coffee than usual. Hmm.) * * * * * Our pool is officially open for the season, de-murk-ified, and filled with small, unmarked bills. Oh, wait. That's not quite right; we filled our local pool supply place with small, unmarked bills, and they, in turn, came and filled our...
I'm trying to learn a little bit of self-discipline in the form of not blogging when I'm overly emotional. Which probably means I will never blog again. HA! I kid. See, that's me being all casual and detached. Ahem. So yesterday, I popped up my blog dashboard four or five times, and in the end, closed it again, because I just wasn't able to think of anything to say other than WE ARE ALL DOOOOOOMED and OMG YOU GUYS AAAAIIIEEEEE and that just seemed... not in accordance with my new rule of not blogging while inebriated with negative emotions. Instead, today you get the Wah Wah Hangover. Lucky...
So remember back when I said we'd finally landed a new therapist for Monkey, but we'd have to wait a while to see her? We finally saw her. I can tell she's going to be very good with him; there is such a difference, sitting down with someone who works with Aspies all the time, versus someone less well versed in "kids like him." "Monkey, why do you think you're here?" she asked him, after some of the initial pleasantries were out of the way. "Because my mom brought me here," he answered, ever the literalist. She laughed. "Well yes, okay, but why do you think your mom brought you here?" Monkey...
You may have heard about a little storm that blew across the country yesterday...? We've had a few tornado scares since I moved to Georgia, but this was the first time that our local weather guy was basically spinning around and screaming "DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER!!" It's times like these when I kind of miss having a basement. Oh, sure. We have a "safe interior room" in our house---it's underneath the staircase, through the laundry closet and behind the washer and dryer. (Have you tried the Turkish Delight back there? Delish!) It is precisely big enough to hold the four of us and...
"Friends will come and go. Your family is forever. You only get one brother, and you only get one sister. This is it." I do a small mental-finger-crossing whenever I speak these words to my children, because of course their father could yet remarry and bring more siblings into their lives, but with each passing year it seems less likely, and I don't own a crystal ball, anyway, so I feel okay about asserting the finality of their circumstances. They fight. All kids do, of course. I don't think they fight any more than "average" siblings (whatever those are), but it's possible I fret about it...
Yesterday I was super-awesome and let my daughter skip school to celebrate her birthday! Yesterday I was also a stone-cold bitch and made my daughter spend half her birthday at the doctor's. Um. Oops! So, no, we still don't know what's going on with her skin, though at least we didn't have to see the horrifying Dr. BadHair, again, but instead saw one of the nice doctors who actually listens and explains things and has ideas. More on that another day, but we're headed to yet another specialist. Fun. After we finally escaped, I took her out to lunch to a soup/salad place called "Lettuce...
Monkey claims that 13 is his lucky number, in large part, because it's mine. He still thinks I'm cool; he still wants to like what I like and do as I do. You, on the other hand, suffer under no such delusions. If I say it's black, you are all but legally obligated to say that it's white. If I dance to a song, you roll your eyes and make a mental note of the song's now inherent uncoolness. If I remind you to thank me for something, you deadpan, "Thank you so much, Mom, you're are quite simply the very greatest," and don't even crack a smile until I start laughing. But you also curl up with me...
1) Today is National Licorice Day. Licorice requests that you please remit liquid chicken post haste. (My dad gave her an egg white yesterday and she clearly wanted to know why we hadn't brought the liquid-chicken-gifting people over soon.) 2) We have our first middle school IEP planning meeting this afternoon, so I am busy making cinnamon rolls to bribe anyone who will help bring with me to let everyone know that yes, my kid is going to be extra work, but he is worth it because I always bake something yummy. Then this morning I noted that my inability to eat wheat probably leaves folks in...
