Wild-Heart.net

Today, there will be a couple of rather big things to tell y’all about. Until then, the day is waiting on me to finish this cup of java.

Stuff like this gets under my skin.

Bibb BOE opposes proposed bill
Jullie Hubbard

Bibb County school board members said Saturday they oppose Senate Bill 10, and they are preparing to write a letter of opposition to send to local delegates as the bill is debated.
The proposed legislation would allow certain students with disabilities enrolled in public schools to apply for vouchers to attend private schools. The proposal was sponsored by Senate President Pro Tem Eric Johnson of Savannah.
State funds that pay for student services would go to private schools under the proposal.
Currently, Bibb County serves about 2,800 students with disabilities.
If the proposed bill is approved, school board members fear private schools may be established to enroll these students only for the money and may not provide adequate services.
Some parents of students with less severe disabilities also could abuse the program to enroll in a private school, board members said.
“What will keep a private school from cherry picking our students,” said board member Albert Abrams. “That’s something we all need to be concerned about.”

Just prior to this article in the local paper’s Education feed there is an article about the BOE facing having to close two schools due to low attendance/ enrollment. Below that there is an article about the BOE falling $20 million short on project funds for building and renovation projects that were supposed to be completely funded by a penny sales tax.

Tell me this is not about the money and is truly about genuine concern for disabled students. I dare you. If they are truly concerned that “cherry picking” of students was really that big of a concern then why in the hell do they sell the mailing list for all 5th grade students and 8th grade students to local private schools? Of course, no one ever brings this up when the promo mailers for the schools start arriving during the tail end of the school year for those students.

If they are that concerned why don’t they put more effort into community involvement in the areas where they are going to face closing two schools and turn them into schools for children with disabilities. Oh. That’s right, it would contradict their policy of full classroom integration where possible. We would want the special needs teacher teams they have at every school to do anything more than run one or two classrooms and just sit and observe in the back of a classroom now and then.

Boy #1 has an Other Health Impaired IEP due to his bipolar disorder and accompanying sensory problems. Not once since his IEP was created have I heard from his “Exceptional Students” special services teacher. I’ve called several times and left messages requesting updates on his progress and to see if he’s been showing any signs of his usually seasonal aspects and to just make sure if all is well for him at school. Not a single call or letter has been responded to. When I have voiced concern about this with school personnel, I am always told that they are so busy they must have forgotten.

So I dare anyone to tell me that their concerns can be traced back to anything but money. If a certain percentage of your property tax and sales tax are appropriated to school funding, wouldn’t you expect better job performance? If you were an employer would you pay an employee a top salary for a job poorly performed? How long would you put up with an unwillingness to perform job duties when you have given them many chances in a very appropriate HR manner?

And as a parent, wouldn’t you expect the very best possible for your child? Not just the “Gifted” children deserve quality education to allow them to be challenged and excel to the best of their ability. Quite often most disabled students are also very “gifted” and yet they are not given the same opportunities as other “gifted” children. If another school can do a better job and the BOE doesn’t want to lose their funding, they really, truly need to make better efforts and better opportunities available. The “gifted” children in our district have opportunities to apply to attend district funded, staffed and maintained schools for The Arts and Math & Science. Those kids are thriving and so are the neighborhoods where they are located, which in at least one of those neighborhoods, it wasn’t previously a desirable place to be. And then there is the Alternative School, certain “problem” children are required to attend for a period of time. You’ve got to wonder how many of those children are not just suffering from neglect and abuse at home but are also undiagnosed with various disabilities.

Before the BOE starts complaining about cherry picking they need to stop selling the mailing address lists to local private schools and they need to tell us, the taxpayers in this district just how they plan to make it better for disabled students.

That’s what is being said to everyone who comes to my door today. That and, “I’m sorry but G. and T. are not allowed to leave the house today until they can go at least 4 hrs. without firing an F-bomb at me and have contributed to maintaining the home they live in.

See, today we are “Spring Cleaning” the boys’ bedroom. A while back I got sick of living with my husband’s ex-wife’s grandmother’s furniture that absolutely reeked of wet dog anytime it rained. We received Sure Fit covers for the furniture as wedding gifts two years ago. That was a mistake. Sometimes you just get what you wish for and end up being tortured by it. They were solid black. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was having to wash them at least once a week because the boys all refused to not sleep on the furniture or eat on the furniture. At first opportunity, I had Joseph and G. toss that sofa and love-seat in a dumpster. So we’ve been living without living room furniture and it hasn’t bothered anyone. All that’s done in there is video game playing.

Back to the boys’ bedroom. With one twin bed and twin over futon bunk bed and tons of freaking toys that have labeled containers and books scattered every where, none of them, Baby Boy in particular had a relaxing, visually unstimulated place to unwind. So we’ve spent the day getting the toys organized back into their containers, putting their dresser in their closet, organizing the books, moving their TV stand to the living room and moving the Ugly (yes it requires a capital “U”) entertainment center to their room. The bottom storage will house their books and their Fedora Linux computer & desk has been moved to a more manageable location in their room and their Windows gaming system has been put into their room. Both of these systems have boot passwords for their accounts and only Joseph and I know the passwords.

Now we are about to get the living room turned into THE gaming & playroom. Then tomorrow is laundry day. I might have some sanity left by Sunday night.

Might.

This one is currently Baby Boy’s favorite.

I’ve Got A Life

Turn it down so I can’t hear it
Turn it out so I can’t see it
It’s just useless to ignore
We’re going down, you don’t feel it
Turn it round, you don’t mean it and
I can’t stand it anymore

When the whole world sighs
And it’s making you so deflated

I’ve got a life
Though it refuses to shine
I’ve got a life
It ain’t over (it ain’t over)
I’ve got a way
It’s the only thing that’s mine
All I’m asking for is tenderness
A little tenderness

Ooo
It’s a cruel place
You never asked to be here
Nobody cares and no one’s gonna help you now (hold on)
It’s dog eat dog the human race
The only thing they’ll do is hate you (hate you)

Such a crime to be unkind
Turn your cheek pretend you’re blind

I’ve got a life
Though it refuses to shine
I’ve got a life it ain’t over
It ain’t over
I’ve got a way
It’s the only thing that’s mine
All I’m asking for is tenderness
Tenderness

I’ve got a life
Though it refuses to shine
I’ve got a life it ain’t over
It ain’t over
I’ve got a way
It’s the only thing that’s mine
All I’m asking for is tenderness

Be strong now baby
Gotta be strong now baby
Gotta be strong!

Just some Stumbles that I want to come back and pursue later. For some reason I’m being spiritually drawn to Tibetan Hinduism and Tibetan Buddhism. I’m having a difficult time reconciling that with my Celtic beliefs and practices. Just as with any religion or form of spirituality, it is difficult to find material for research that isn’t flaky and can be taken seriously. Any who, here’s some what I’ve found interesting thus far:

• shiva shakti mandalam
• The Tibetan Book of The Dead
• Wikipedia’s page on Tibetan Buddhism
• Religonfacts.com’s page explaining the history of Tibetan Buddhism.
• Many feel there are definite connections between the Celtic religions and the Tibetan. The Irish have their Tara as a place and some say that the Druids called thier mother goddess Tara, Tibetan Buddhist have the Goddess Tara. Coincidence?

That’s enough for now.

It’s all his fault.

Check out all of those spandex dresses! Okay, spandex needs to stay in the 80’s.

Baby Boy is coming home from the hospital tomorrow. So far stopping the Depakote and starting him on Neurotin seems to be helping. He’ll have an apt. with his psychiatrist next Tuesday. We’re supposed to discuss weening him to one dose of Geodon daily, keeping him on Neurotin and adding Lithium once he’s been weened off of the Geodon or at least to just an evening dosage.

He sounds so much better now when we talk to him and he no longer thinks he can see & take people’s souls or that his family is trying to kill him. I’m telling you, a hallucinating child is a frightening and heartbreaking thing.

Boy #3 is with his mother this week and with Baby Boy being in the hospital, my nest has been half empty. It’s a horrible thing.

Naturally, there is a bit of a story to explain the reason for this.

Today’s song has two reasons for being chosen. The first is that my mother would sing this to me when I was little and I in turn have sung it to my own children many times over the years. It’s a song of hope. Hope that was re-affirmed the first time when in the early seasons of ER, Susan’s sister Chloe sang it in the delivery room when they put her newborn baby in her arms. So for that reason it is being dedicated to my boys, Baby Boy in particular today. Life isn’t easy 100% of the time. Not for anyone. But we will all “learn to fly.”

The second is that the just prior to this one reminds me of a conversation my best friend and I have frequently. We are close in age and we each have 4 whose ages are very close to be in tandem with each other. As I said in the comments below…We came of age during the “Self Help - Codependency Is Evil Era.”

Now to add to that.

The media and doctors drilled into us that our upbringings were all, in some way dysfunctional and then we end up facing parenthood scared to even try to use what our parents used that worked. I wouldn’t be able to survive being a parent if I hadn’t come to the realization that for most parents, they do the best they know how with the tools that they have from their own generation. We will screw up our kids in one way or another, it is inevitable and they will tell us about it, repeatedly when hormones usher in the teen years. I think the key is finding a way to convey to them as they grow that you are doing everything possible not to screw up. On good days, the kids know that and my hope is that it will one day make the inevitable empty nest a comfortable one.

Not ever having been a fan of The Beatles, (You try living with a first name your mother took from one of their songs.) I really prefer Sarah’s version.

Black Bird

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All you life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night
Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

At least that is what I’ve been telling mine since they were old enough to protest taking responsibility for their own messes. I’ve heard it all since Boy #1 was about 3 yrs. old. Kate has reached the point most moms reach sooner or later concerning chores and allowance and asked for some input. And now that it’s 07:16 and I’ve just nicely reminded the teenagers, Boys #’s 1 and 2, that the floors of our homes are not the proper place to dispose of garbage for the second time since 06:30, I’d like to attempt to answer her questions. I say attempt because there are no easy answers and solutions and sometimes, with strong willed children, you, the parent are truthfully facing a “grin & bear it” sort of silent battle until they are raised and on their own.

Kate’s questions are in bold.

• Do your kids get an allowance? If so, is it tied in to performing their chores? Our boys do not receive an allowance. They do however earn special privileges when they have done their chores.
• What are your kids’ ages? What allowance do they get? For the 15 yr. old, that might be cash for extra minutes on his cell phone or cash to go to a movie with friends, or he might be rewarded by getting to stay out on a weekend evening in the neighborhood until 9:30 with his friend that’s a girl but not his girlfriend. For the soon to be 14 yr. old, the things that motivate him are different as he is in that stage of early teen years where he still enjoys playing with Hot Wheels and building forts in the backyard. So for him it might be cash or the privilege of going to the store with us to pick out a toy with a certain cost limit or cash to go to a movie with a friend. The 9 year old and the soon to be 9 year old live to be rewarded with Happy Meals, Hot Wheels, Sigma 6 things and trips to Books-A-Million. And of course, extended computer time. They all know that if they want something they need to attempt to contribute to keeping order in our home. Do they willingly comply? Not usually. When you enter parenthood with a strong conviction to raise your children to be independent and they all turn out to be Alpha Males with Type A personalities and incredibly intelligent, well, you get what you wished for and you pay the price with challenging personalities. My friends whose children have mostly been raised and are now in their twenties, all assure me that it will pay off eventually and when they reach their early to mid-twenties it will pay off and we will start to see the values we desperately attempt to instill in them, come to the surface. That is the hope I cling to.
• What daily chores do your kids perform? Honestly? They don’t have very many chores. Boy #1 is expected to check all trashcans daily and take out what garbage needs to be taken out. Boy #2 is assigned litter-box duty and feeding the cats. Boys #”s 3 & 4 are expected to pick up their toys before bedtime every evening. It may sound like the youngest are getting off easy but they string LOTS of toys from their bedroom to the living room on a daily basis. And each and every one of them is expected to do the little things that are simply respectful to every one who lives in our home. Like putting garbage in garbage cans, not leaving wet towels in the single bathroom shared by all members of the family, not leave dirty clothing and school uniforms in a trail from the front door to their bedroom, taking any glasses & dishes to the kitchen and any other little task I might need help with.
• How do you keep track of whether they’ve done their chores? A chart? Some other system? I have tried charts so many times with them that I’ve completely given up. They’ve learned that Mom has the uncanny ability to know who is wear and who’s done what and who hasn’t with just a glance and keeping an ear tuned to all of their brotherly conversations (AKA bitch fests). Living in a small townhouse helps.
• What’s the penalties for not doing their chores at all? Nothing extra. Period. I will not be bargained with. With the Bipolar boys (#1 & #4) it’s a bit more difficult. They just do not comprehend consequences when they aren’t medicinally stable or if they are in a state of distress. I’m not excusing their lack of responsibility, EEG studies and MRI studies have proven that when their brains are not functioning properly, the area of the brain that would receive the message of consequence does not work. So, when they have de-stressed they are given another opportunity to do what is expect and know that they will lose privileges if they don’t take an active part in sharing the household responsibilities.
• Do you penalize for a poorly done job? Not for a poorly done job. If they don’t do it right they are asked politely to do it again. As often as necessary. I care more about their attitudes. They know there will be no rewards and no special treatment if they want to challenge us every step of the way. The teens want to be independent and make their own choices and let their mouths run freely. If they bitch the entire time they are doing what is expected they know they will not rewarded in any way shape or form. The youngest two are now at the stage where they think they might try backtalk and complain incessantly A reminder of the consequences for being ugly is not to their benefit usually works.
• Any other thoughts on how to introduce the concept of chipping in with the work around here to a child who seems to believe his mother exists for the purpose of cooking, schooling and snuggling him? I don’t know quite how to answer this one without it being taken wrongly. So know that what follows isn’t being given from the top of a soap-box. The sad truth is, this quandary’s solution is individual to each Mom. For me, being submissive in nature, I had to come to the realization that I cloaked my inner control-freak nature in what I felt where my duties to my husband. As my health began to deteriorate I was faced with having to give up control of some of the household responsibilities and come to grip with the fact that it doesn’t matter how household chores are done but that they are done. I had to remind myself that my ultimate goal was not to raise typical “Mama’s Boys.” Trust yourself as Mom. Follow your instincts and be flexible. No one, mother or father, ever feels they are doing it right all of the time. Perhaps you will be one of the blessed few that have children who just willingly contribute to maintaining your home. If not, just do what feels right and hold onto that hope that those with experience have assured us… It will all come out good in the end and the years to get there will be worth it. I believe those assurances. While the teens are quickly becoming a challenge just by virtue of being teenagers, I have to admit that I enjoy their presence so much more at this age than I ever thought I would. I spent their first 12 years frustrated and feeling quite alone as a parent, and gods know that frustration hasn’t gone away but it has been rewarded with the companionship of rapidly maturing minds, that when not clouded by hormones, can participate in some very interesting and intelligent conversations. I will never forget when Boy #1 first watched Braveheart with me two years ago. He cried like a baby and we talked about the movie until 03:00.

I hope some of this helps someone. In the end we simply gather bits and pieces from other parents and hope like hell that our kids turn out to be decent human beings. Every family has their own dynamic to deal with and every child is unique. Some kids respond to having a list of chores and a chart. Some buck it every step of the way. And we all find our own ways to thrive as families and that includes how each of us deals with chores and allowance.

I know that my own parents did not give my sister and I an allowance. We were expected to help with the household chores and help with various farm chores. When I reached dating age, in high school, many afternoons were spent feeding pigs (seriously!) and taking care of our horse and pets before getting cleaned up and ready to go out for the night. And from ages 11-17, during the months of July and August, we were expected to “walk beans” at the crack of dawn until noon and from 18:00 until dark. A lot of the time I didn’t like it. I seem to recall irrationally attempting to convince my parents that I needed an allowance. My sister and I felt we were expected to work so we should be paid an allowance. But we did get paid. My parents were far from poor. They could have easily paid us an allowance, but instead what my father did was keep track of how many hours we worked with him on the farm and at the beginning of each new school year he figured the pay at minimum wage and showed us exactly how much money we would be able to spend on new school clothes and exactly how much he would be depositing into our savings accounts. We weren’t allowed to withdrawal from our savings accounts. At the time we found that to be oppressive. When I moved out and on my own, I was thankful that he had been that strict about it. And as an adult I know that my needs were taken care of and realize that the lesson being taught was responsibility and the tools for a strong work ethic.

My own kids may not be as easily placated as my sister and I were when it comes to blowing money on wants verses needs and my pockets are certainly not as deep as my parents were, but in the last 15 years, I’ve found they don’t need to be. They have everything they need to survive and thrive. What they do with it is ultimately up to them.

Michael Bolton is where it’s at. Yeap. Today he is hot as hell to me. Right up there with Rob Zombie and my husband. Wow! Now there is a fantasy… [Pardon me while I take a moment and collect myself.] But I digress. I am a product of being raised on PBS by baby boomer Republicans who became parents before the age of 30. Frightening, huh? Adult contemporary has its place in my world. [Insert evil grin.] And now it is a part of yours, too.

1995. I was a 23 year old, stay-at-home mom of two. They were two and three years old. What can I say in my defense? They are now old enough that I can embarrass them with this sort of music and tell the girls they bring home how they used to love to sing and dance along with Michael Bolton. I knew there had to be some silver lining in this whole parenting teenagers business.

After months and months of not surfing BlogExplosion, I’ve started surfing through and I’ve gotta tell ya, it’s not turning out to be a good way to find good blog reading. So now I’m asking y’all for some advice. Brag on those you love. It’s been a very long time since I’ve even wanted to read blogs let alone post on my own and now the bug is back and while I’ve kept up with the blogs of friends and acquaintances, I’m having difficulty weeding through the splogs and the political blogs to find intelligent, witty and quirky blogs by bloggers who blog about things I find interesting. Eclectic blogs. Know of any that you adore and can’t wait to tell me about? Please, leave me links!

Love Barbara or hate her. I refuse to let her politics ruin my enjoyment of her music. This duet has got to be one of the most passion-charged of any she has ever done with anyone else. And Barry is just the epitome of early 80’s hotness.

I just spoke with my baby boy’s attending doctor at the hospital. We discussed his medications and the changes and accompanying psychosis and anxiety. He is stopping the Depakote as his levels are too high regardless of what dosage they have tried and are going to start weening him off of the Geodon since its side-effect of poor memory recall contributes to his anxiety. Today they are also going to start him on Neurotin to see if that eases his anxiety. We also discussed the possibility of starting him on Lithium while he is in the hospital. He said it is actually one of the safest medications to use in patients with mood disorders, even pediatric patients. I asked why it is always used as a last option. He said that the frequent blood level testing is the number one reason that most parents don’t try it before going through every other antipsychotic, most parents do not want to have to mess with frequent trips to the lab.

You know, I try to never judge what other parenting choices that other parents make because unless you know every single nasty detail of their lives, it is simply not fair. Every family is unique and so is every child. I’m trying very hard to understand why, when nothing else is working to preserve your child’s sanity, any parent would hesitate to try a medication with the safest side-effect profile that has the best track record of helping children & adults. Why? I don’t ask that sarcastically. Not in the slightest. It breaks my heart and I would really like to understand this way of thinking. If a child were diabetic, would a parent refuse to monitor their blood sugar 4-6 times a day and administer insulin injections? I wouldn’t think so.

I understand that most HMO’s don’t like to give prior-authorization for medications that require frequent lab testing in an attempt to keep costs down. I “get” that. Honestly. But why not fight tooth and nail to save your child?

And speaking of diabetes, the doctor said they would check his fasting and non-fasting blood sugar levels today and tomorrow. His blood sugar was a bit on the high side when they did labs at the ER. The only thing he had ate in a five hour period, about 30 minutes before the labs were drawn was 2 graham crackers and 2 tablespoons of sugar free peanut butter. He said that in some patients who take antisycotics, the meds can cause high blood sugar levels and when blood sugar is high it can induce psychotic behavior in some individuals.

The more depressing stuff is after the “More” tag/link. It’s my journal and my therapy so if you don’t want to deal with that, feel free to not click it. I won’t be offended in the slightest. And if you’re reading this in a feed-reader, just go ahead click onto your next updated feed.

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My baby-boy has been admitted to the hospital again. Details I don’t mind sharing with those who are genuinely concerned. However, email or leave a comment and I’ll fill you in via email. I’m not comfortable with the putting the details here. But I will share Sarah McLachlan’s Fallen with you. It just seems to fit the challenges of parenting a severely mentally disabled child.

Fallen - Sarah McLachlan

Heaven bent to take my hand
And lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
To a long and painful fight

Truth be told I’ve tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear

Though I’ve tried, I’ve fallen…
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don’t come round here
And tell me I told you so…

We all begin with good intent
Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves
The past could be undone
But we carry on our backs the burden
Time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It’s the bitter taste of losing everything
That I have held so dear.

I’ve fallen…
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don’t come round here
And tell me I told you so…

Heaven bent to take my hand
Nowhere left to turn
I’m lost to those I thought were friends
To everyone I know
Oh they turned their heads embarassed
Pretend that they don’t see
But it’s one missed step
You’ll slip before you know it
And there doesn’t seem a way to be redeemed

Though I’ve tried, I’ve fallen…
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don’t come round here
And tell me I told you so…

Don’t take the song & it’s lyrics as meaning I’m severely depressed and such. This song honestly brings me hope as strange as that might be. But if you know me, you know that strange is the norm.

I have one word for you: Xanax.

My youngest (nearly 9 yrs. old) has early onset schizo-effective disorder. It’s been a bit of a hell lately but is gradually getting better. The result of the stress of that situation sent me into a tail spin of anxiety, which of naturally triggered a bad fibro-flare. Went to see a neuropsychiatric specialist. I figured it was time to ask for help when my natural ability for parallel thought added paranoid connections between random things. Wouldn’t want crazy to get too out of hand, you know? So he started the process of a neurological work up and various other boring and dramatic things and he got me started on Xanax.

Let me tell you something first, my mom… she’s been taking Xanax like a fiend for about 13 years. Just the thought of having to take that stuff gave me yet another stomach cramp of anxiety. But I agreed to give it a try..

Wow!

I haven’t felt this clear headed and peaceful since I was maybe 17? Gosh that was a beautiful night. You would likely rather I skip that part but it was such a beautiful experience and the last time that I felt connected to life in such an peaceful manner. It was a mid-July evening in Iowa. One of those not to humid nights when the breeze is just right. Think of Meryl Streep on that farm house porch and she turns to face the wind and the look of pure contentment that is on her face. Oh, how I have grown to miss Iowa. But that’s getting off track and I’m sure you’re starting to get confused if you’ve managed to read this far.

I love my shrink and I love Xanax. I’ve still got the usual minor fibromyalgia things going on and the neuro quirks, but it’s as if I couldn’t be bothered to worry. And this is coming from me, the chick who just  spent 3 days awake and worrying herself into paranoia. And I’m remembering things today that used to give me joy and I’m excited about getting reacquainted with myself. I didn’t think I’d ever see that side of me again.

Hell. While fixing supper this evening, I felt as chipper as Barbara Streisand did while skipping across that college campus singing to the flowers to make them grow. (Bonus points to whomever can name that movie right off the top of their head. )

Which reminds me. I’ve been having this urge to NetFlix some Cary Grant movies, Giant in particular. And Doris Day movies. OH! And Elvis’ Hawaii movie which of course means I would also need to watch The Fabulous Baker Boys. I adore that movie. I know, it’s not the right time period but just has that nior feel to it and I love the soundtrack.

Sure, I still walk like an crippled old woman and twitch all over now and then and stink of Ben-Gay. But today, I didn’t care.

Sure my baby boy still was spouting prophecies of some other world known only to him and spent a lot of time yelling at me about horrible his day was and followed me around the kitchen telling me how to cook. But today, I smiled and sweetly was able to deal with that without constantly feeling like I was going to vomit.

I sat outside this afternoon, just enjoying the sun for the brief moment it was appearing from the clouds, and remembered being 4 years old on the first very warm day of Spring in a sun-dress and white strapy patten leather sandals with my sister dressed in matching clothes and shoes, playing Ring Around the Rosie with white clover crowns on our heads woven by our mother. Spinning ’round and ’round and smiling with the most perfect, innocent joy and collapsing dizzy and giggling into the grass and watching the clouds pass over. I think I need another moment like that. Do you suppose 34 is told old for Ring Around The Rosie?

So. Yes. Go Xanax!

Robert Anton Wilson Defies Medical Experts and leaves his body @4:50 AM on binary date 01/11.
All Hail Eris!

On behalf of his children and those who cared for him, deepest love and gratitude for the tremendous support and lovingness bestowed upon us.

(that’s it from Bob’s bedside at his fnord by the sea)

RAW Memorial February 07
date to be announce

The world of free thinkers will greatly miss you, Pope Bob…. I had just finished watching Maybe Logic in the wee hours of this morning. Godspeed.

Remember that curse? The one that your mother and/or father put on you when you were a teenager? It went something like, “I hope that someday you have a child just like you!” Well, my mother took it a step further, she added, “No! I hope you have one worse than you!” Never underestimate the power of the curse.

Every day, when the 15 year old comes home at approximately 15:15, he immediately gives me attitude. Today it went like this:

Him: Are you and Dad going to the store tonight?
Me: No. Why would we. We just went last night.
Him: I need a damned compass.
Me: What happened to the one I bought you at the beginning of the school year?
Him: It broke. I used it as a weapon and hit the wall instead of my brother.
Me: What? Why? How? Never mind. I don’t want to know.
Before I could say anything else…
Him: You also have to get me a pair of gym shorts.
Me: You have gym shorts. Would you like me to find them for you?
Him: F*ck no! I won’t wear those shorts. They aren’t long enough! You have to buy me new ones. Ones that come down to the middle of my knees.
Me:Son. *sigh* Did it ever occur to you that if you asked me nicely instead of yelling and cursing and demanding these things of me, I might be inclined to go out of my way for you? I know there is a compass in the box of art supplies and I refuse to buy shorts. You can wear the Hane’s gym shorts that I bought you for gym.
Him: BUT! GOD, MOM! I have to….
Me: No, Son. You don’t have to anything. Your problem is easily solved without spending even more money for things you will refuse to take care of. Now, next time you need something you need to try to ask nicely because no one who yells and curses at me is going to get a single thing from me.
Him: What the hell ever. I’m going to A.’s house.
Queue the sound of the front door slamming.

I love this time of day. At least he’s no longer coming home and immediately announcing who he’s going to “beat the hell out of” if they don’t leave him alone. You may be wondering why I allowed him to leave the house after being so disrespectful. He’s 4 inches taller than me and infinitely stronger. Sometimes, you have to pick your battles. These battles with my eldest son, they aren’t worth it. Later tonight, as he’s getting ready for bed, he’ll come to me with his arms stretched wide and tears in his eyes to hug me and say, “I love you, Mommy. I’m sorry I was such an ass today.” And then I’ll shed a tear, as I always do, because he’s far too big of a boy now to crawl in my lap in the rocking chair, as we did years ago and rock the stress of the day away.

I think most of us have observed the whole Donald Trump vs. Rosie O’Donnell thing and are finding them both, to be kind, a bit unhinged. But why did Madonna have to go and get involved? She’s pushing 50 now and is trying to adopt a child and yet here she is getting involved in what has got to be one of the most absurd celebrity feuds ever.

I was in the middle of this glorious rant earlier. The fingers were flying. It was motivated by my 15 year old son’s now-ex-girlfriend who is all of 12 yrs. old. (I didn’t find out her age until AFTER she’d been to our home for his birthday.) The rant was going to be glorious and ask questions as to why the parents of a 12 year old girl would not give a damn about her dating a 15 year old boy and why such young girls want a boyfriend to spend every waking moment in their presence. Then, Tim, who was cleaning up the computer graveyard area behind my desk, crossed some wires (How? I don’t know.) and caused the electricity for the entire house to flicker. Bye-bye beautiful rant. I suppose I’ll Stumble later for your amusement.

Say what you will about the usual broadcast of Coast To Coast AM. I find it to be interesting at times. I also enjoy the writings of Graham Hancock. Art Bell was host to an interview with Graham Hancock on December 28, 2006 and C2C has made the recording free to the public via their website. That’s top on my list of things to pursue when the boys are back at school tomorrow.

*edit* It’s not free. But I bet I know where I can find it.

So. Joe and I have this on-going sort of debate.

I am convinced that if spew tastes like cheesecake, we could easily solve world peace. Or at the very least he would be a very happy man and I could lose a whole lot of weight. Think about it.

Cheesecake.

Joe refuses to speculate if he would take a daily supplement in capsule form that would make his spew taste like cheesecake.

Spew should taste like cheesecake. I’m not suggesting that spew should take on the consistency of cheesecake. That’s just down right nasty. Absolutely disgusting. I’m just saying that instead of it tasting the way it really does, it should taste like cheesecake.

Maybe even a supplement to make it taste like strawberry cheesecake. That would kick so much ass.

When I win the lottery, I am going to employ a food chemist and tackle this. It could change the world.

Occasionally, when I’m under a great deal of stress and having a bad day with the pain, I like to have cocktail hour. Starting at 16:00. A lovely glass of wine. While still in my gown & robe. Call it an escape into the fantasy world of being a Soap Opera character. Even though I have not watched a soap opera in over 5 years. When a gal lives in a house full of males, she’ll take her glamor where ever she can get it.

• The Reincarnation Station - Supposedly I’m coming back as a horse.
• ChakraEnergy.com - Who knew Chakra could be dysfunctional? Obviously I’ve not given Chakra much serious thought until now.
• PositivePause.com - If you’re in need of meditation and a bit of self-help biofeedback assistance, it’s actually not bad. At this moment thought I feel a bit like Rita Rudner in my thoughts
• Icy Hot Stuntaz - Ahahahahahahahahahaha! Years later they are still funny! Also, I didn’t really Stumble this one. The sad truth is that my 13 yr. old son aspires to be just like these people. Pray for him, will ya?
• The Chappelle Theory - Was I the last to know?
• Exit Mundi - I had absolutely no clue so many people are that obsessed with the end of the world. I also didn’t know that cats are, “eating a huge hole in the food chain.” Uh. Yeaaaaaaaaaah. I too experience times when I think my cats are conspiring to one day eat me alive.
• Cows - I… Well…. I’m sorry. I had to stumble away from the conspiracy category before I lost my mind or ran for the tin-foil. Bovine Freedom!
• Crazy Rabbit - Give me back my gods damned cursor, you bitch rabbit!
• Bruno Bozzetto’s Neuro - It made me laugh.
• Blue Ball Machine - It may be a classic now but I still believe the creator has an extra special place reserved in Hades.

I have decided that Stumbling just might rot my brain.

• The sleep study was aborted. I arrived at the hospital at 21:45 and was all wired-up and ready for sleep. Just as I dozed off my teeth & jaw started hurting. The kind of exposed nerve pain that makes every bit of your body light up in pain and makes you want to pee your pants. I fought it off and attempted to sleep until 02:30 at which point there was not going to be enough time to complete the study should I have happened to fall asleep. Until next time, I suppose.
• I need to rebuild my blogroll. Please, don’t be offended if you used to be on there and currently aren’t. You will be. Most likely sometime Monday.

Tonight’s the night. Yay, me! I can’t sleep if I feel restricted in anyway but I’m supposed to sleep tonight with electrodes and wires taped all over my head and face?

On the bright side, it’s a night where I can attempt to sleep with out fighting off head-locks, elbows, toes and knees or just simply my knee caps being used as foot rests.

I’m going to ask for a copy of the snore recording. If I have to be humiliated enough to have my snoring recorded I’m going to want a copy of it so I can laugh at myself later.

Another bright side? Since my doctor added Cymbalta to my daily cocktail of pills for pain relief and to stop muscle spasms, the Soma now makes me feel stoned when taken as regularly scheduled. I’ve tried going back to three times a day on the Soma but that doesn’t control the spasms. So it’s a choice of being in pain w/tight muscles or have relaxed muscles with nerve pain. I’ll take feeling stoned for now.

One more funny poke at myself, it’s a good thing by husband is into kinky industrial-gothic-bdsm type things because otherwise there is no way in hell the fashion conscious 16 year old girl in me would ever wear such a thing to bed let alone a guy see me with it on.

Early in December I decided to go ahead and switch domain registrar’s for wild-heart.net and got it moved over to Blogs About where the lovely Lisa has been hosting our domains for the past 3+(?) years. In the process of doing that, the old familiar urge to blog about silly and stupid things has returned. Luckily, I was able to convince Lisa to release this layout to the public. Thank you, muchly!

I hope this time it’s a smooth ride. It feels good to be back “home.”