Wild-Heart.net

This was one of my Papa’s favorite songs. When Boy #2 was a toddler, before Papa went into a nursing home to spend the rest of his days, when we would visit Boy #2 always made a bee-line to Papa’s room and they would talk, and listen to music. One of my favorite memories was peeking around the door frame to watch and listen as they both sang along with Louis Armstrong. Just singing their with all of their hearts & souls. When it was over, Papa said to Boy #2 who was barely 3 yrs old at the time, “You need to remember this song forever because life is hard and will only get harder and this song is a reminder that it is a Wonderful World. Boy #2 still remembers. When he plays music now as he approaches his 14th birthday, amidst the rap & hip-hop that screams from his computer, in the midst of it all he will have this song in his playlist.

I think my inner bitch has left the building for the time being.

Song of the day. Well, this one could be song of the month. I don’t usually care for Limp Triscuit but this song has stayed with me for years now. Especially when the PMS is real bad and I become sick of having to deal with stupidity and nothing but BS.

I think that perhaps my venture into Twitter land has left me feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of everything about the Internet and it’s inhabitants that irritates me. I can’t let that happen when I have enough people in the “real” world to deal with on a daily basis that are stubborn and irritating. I end up being nice to people in the “virtual” world and a bitch to everyone else.

But having something to break this morning would certainly be cathartic.

I found this at danae’s yesterday. It’s just something to think about and forget trying to debate about this in comments. I won’t engage and might possibly delete any comment on this post which is negative. In fact, if you aren’t a fat girl, please, don’t bother with playing the video. But I’ve got to say, I love her attitude.

There’s a little odd thing that happens when a schizoaffective child is manic while delusional. He will say inappropriate things. Things that will make your jaw hit the floor. Things that no amount of pepper or soap on the tongue or anything else will curb.

Baby Boy has been full of those moments lately. Today’s was one of those days. As soon as Boy #1 (the bipolar one) comes in the door he is accosted bY Baby Boy who just calm as can be, looks right at him and says, “Let me ask you something. Why are you such a bitch?” And as I made a 30 second dash to the hallway and land on my face, Baby Boy had begun dancing circles around Boy #1 singing, “G. is a bitch! G. is a bitch!”

Now Boy #1 is paranoid and takes it all personally and becomes upset. Then Baby Boy whom was put in the corner and fruitlessly had it explained to him that his language and behavior were inappropriate and now he must sit quietly for 5 minutes and do his deep breathing therapy. In which he continued to sing while breathing deeply.

All I can do is sit here and laugh. I’m sure Loki is.

Our local mall is having or recently had a casting call for the producers of that Nanny reality show. I briefly entertained dragging them all down there and if casted they’d get to meet a woman who’s a bigger witch than they could ever imagine me being on a bad day right before that time of the month. But in the end it would probably mentally break the nanny’s mind and I’d end up having to take care of her, too!

And people wonder why I cannot sit through an episode of Malcolm In The Middle.

Baby Boy’s birthday is this Friday. He’s decided he just wants an outdoor party in the evening with grilled cheese, tomato soup & French fries, all cooked on the grill. And he also wants to invite our neighbors whom are friends and another couple and their children whom we are friends with. He promised he wouldn’t turn ugly even though these are people whom he’s taken upon himself to kick out of our home when he’s psychotic and delusional. And he wants cheesecake. With blueberries.

I’m taking bets.

At the top of the sidebar you can now find links to an about page and a couple of other things. I’m sure more will follow. But that’s what you get for now.

Yet another Song of the Day. Yes. It’s Stevie Nicks. I shall forever adore her, regardless of what anyone else might say. Teenagers are at the bus stop. Time to wake Baby Boy so he can shower & take meds then it’s my turn. Have to be at the doctor’s office by 9:30.

Take a woman from my generation who actually enjoyed the writings of Erma Bombeck, and you get thoughts such as this from my mind at times…

Do you ever find yourself with chocolate in one hand at the end of a really bad day, and coffee in the other, and then speak to them saying something to the effect of, “I don’t know that I would be alive right now were it not for the two of you?”

Care to know what drives me crazy about coffee?

I hate that feeling of being really sleepy yet you just can’t fall asleep… the next thing you know you’re thinking that coffee sounds so comforting right now, you have that cup of coffee and your eyes and body fall asleep but your brain is still working away at how to fix everyones problems and put things the way they should be.

I think I shall turn our family blog into a jumping board of sorts. Boys #1 and #2, well all of them want their own blogs and I’m sick of trying to be happy and cheerful with entries for family. If they want to know they can call or they can take a risk and visit over here. So, I’m thinking that the domain for the family blog can be the place for them to follow to individual blogs for the Monkey Boys, etc.

I entertained, very briefly just adding each of the boys as authors to the family blog, but they’d start bitching at each other in comments and writing posts of retaliation. But hey, at least lately, they’ve seemed to keep their petty discussions only to supper time and if they are in the car with us.

That’s progress.

He’s 15 years old now. Yet still, when faced with nausea occurring with any illness, he is the same as he was when he was a toddler. That is, he never makes it to the toilet to vomit. Never. If he did, I’d probably reward him with cash.

He was stricken with the flu in the middle of the night. He had been asleep in the recliner. (Which I sent him to after listening to he and Boy #2 act like 3 & 4 year olds for 30 minutes at bedtime.) He made it out of the recliner, through the kitchen and then from the laundry-room doorway to about a foot away from the toilet he made his disgusting trail of vomit.

Seriously. I do not exaggerate, this child has never made it all the way to a toilet or trashcan in his life. If he calls home from school to say, “Momma. I’m sick. I threw-up.” I am ashamed to admit, I find it fishy if he says he got sick in the bathroom, in an actual toilet.

Gods love him. At least he got a dirty towel out of the hamper to cover it with. I’ve still got to clean that up once my stomach settles.

I have yet to hear a single word about why the HPV vaccine is gender specific. There are no other gender specific vaccines, so is this one really such? And if not why are we not pushing to have boys vaccinated, also?

It’s common place for women and girls of a certain age to get in the stirrups once a year and have their cervix scraped while there are many men who are silent carriers for many various STDs yet no one tests them for those silent ones. Only those that can be found in blood & urine samples.

If we can simply swab the inside of a person’s cheek to collect DNA samples, there has got to be a way to bring some “gender equality” into STD testing.

And somebody still needs to clear up for me why this vaccine is gender specific. Yes, I know, women are whom it impacts the most, but men are spreading it around, too.

A woman was walking down the street when she was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless woman who asked her for a couple of dollars for dinner.

The woman took out her bill fold, extracted ten dollars and asked, “If I give you this money, will you buy some wine with it instead of dinner?” No, I had to stop drinking years ago”, the homeless woman replied.

“Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?” the woman asked. “No, I don’t waste time shopping”, the homeless woman said. “I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive.”

“Will you spend this at a beauty salon instead of food?” the woman asked.”Are you NUTS?” replied the homeless woman. “I haven’t had my hair done in 20 years!”

“Well,” said the woman, “I’m not going to give you the money. Instead, I’m going to take you out for dinner with my hubby and myself tonight.

The homeless woman was astounded. “Won’t your husband be furious with you for doing that? I know I’m dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting.”

The woman replied, “That’s okay. It’s important for him to see what a woman looks like after she has given up shopping, hair appointments and wine.”

I really enjoy The Daily Grail. Their feed is the first I read every morning. They do a News Briefs of all things off-beat and slightly out there and some that aren’t so out there. At the end of each News Brief post, they have a daily quote. Today they chose one from Jack Kerouac. Love or hate him, the man did have some interesting things to say in his lifetime. And this one is a gem:

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”

Jack Kerouac

Okay. So. (Yes this is how I talk when I’m frustrated and I’m going to type the same way so if you don’t like it, go away.) Bitch fest follows.

Two teenagers, a 9 yr. old and a very soon to be 9 yr. old and a husband.

Boy #1 is, until we move the heck out of this neighborhood, constantly at the home of a “friend” whom is not a good influence on him in any way shape or form. He feels that if his friends whom are 1-2 yrs. younger than him are allowed to roam the neighborhood until 10pm on a weekend and 9pm on a school night then that is what his curfew is. Not asking just flat out stating that it is so. Any attempt to get through to his brain that he cannot do this and is failing school simply because of the poor choice to not care about his school responsibilities falls on deaf ears. I get it. Baby Boy is tough to be around. Real tough. He takes a lot out of a person both mentally and physically.

Then there’s just having to keep finding and fighting for Baby Boy’s stability. While I myself am physically disabled. It’s fucking hard.

Then there’s husband’s work schedule and Bonus Boy’s schedule. Husband is slightly Asperger’s. He fails to understand the importance of informing of changes in his work schedule or changes in the custody schedule. He simply doesn’t remember. But when I ask him to please take the time to go to our family calender and put in his work schedule or to please as Bonus Boy’s mother to email him the information she calls to inform him of while he’s at work, he forgets himself and then bitches and complains that he’s forgotten and that he didn’t tell me because of this and that.

Five minutes a day to login to the family calendar and make and notations necessary is all it would take to allow for the mental and physical preparedness that is unnecessary for maintaining an orderly household. That and simply saying to Bonus Boy’s mother, “I’m at work and I’m never going to remember this. Please email these details.”

So, I’m to be mom, psychiatric care giver, teacher, wife, and submissive household administrative assistant. How in the hell can I do all of this when NO ONE will give the information needed. And then why do I get to be the one who gets yelled at because I wasn’t given the information?

If this were a job that I was being paid to do, I’d have quit a very long time ago.

When I first read this article about Americans being stupid about religion, my first thought was a fervent wish that I didn’t currently have a migraine so that I could take it apart bit by bit and illustrate what is missing from it and how it is relevant to the state of world affairs and weave in several points from current events.

But today, migraine from hell prevails and after reading said article that made my head spin as it read in a manner similar to driving down a mountain road after nightfall, all I can say is this…

This particular article was focused on the stupidity of Americans on a subject area that concerns us today beyond the scope of the subject yet the author counted on those reading to be amongst the stupid.

I have a lot of them. The thing about these products is that while you look and smell great and your skin feels wonderful and are nice and relaxed when you’re all done. For some of us, me with the FMS, I’m also exhausted.

At this moment my feet are soaking in my massaging foot bath. But when the water finally turns cold, I’m going to be the one who has to empty it and put it away and then take the pumice stone to my feet, then get in the shower to use the divine spa shower products. And while I’m in there I’ve got armpits, legs, and bits to shave. All before the water gets cold.

I do believe I’ll have a friend cut my hair tonight. It’s so fried from this past summer’s bleaching job that had to be done before having vampire red hair. Joseph isn’t thrilled about it. My hair used to be waist length. Now it’s just past my shoulders. After tonight, it’s going to be a chin length bob so it can all grow out evenly w/out the fried bits.

He just might have a nervous breakdown. But he’s trying to understand that unhealthy hair is harder to manage and costs more to maintain.

Shakira - Hips Don’t Lie

Because it’s been a while since I’ve done a Song of the Day. And watching her dance reminds me of when I was 4 and convinced that I was going to grow up to be a dancer. A belly dancer. Hey! I wasn’t always a woman with more to love. But the frightening thing is that one of my aunts has video footage of me at age 4 with my blanket wrapped around my waist belly dancing to Elton John’s Island Girl. Yes. I admit to these sorts of things.

What follows is something my son would have done himself if he had a video camera. Heck, if the guy had shaggy hair he could pass as Boy #2’s twin.

I haven’t posted pics of my furry babies in a very long time. So first up is Pip’s second litter. They’re 12 days old now and their eyes were already opening by day 3. There’s 5 in that kitty bed with her. See if you can spot them all. This time she had 5 babies, 4 boys and 1 girl.

Next up is Fennien outside in the windowsill with Saoirse on the inside.

Tim took the pictures so that explains why Pip’s head is chopped off in the first picture and the camera flash in the second. It also explains why there weren’t any pics of Caoimhe to upload. They just weren’t viewable.

About a month ago, we also added another pet to our family. He’s a male Beta and he’s gorgeous and spoiled. I wanted to name him Mr. Limpet but Joseph started calling him Sushi and it stuck. Bonus Boy just straight up calls him Raw Fish. LOL

So there have been some good things going on. It’s not all drama all of the time. Even if it does feel like it by this time of day.

First off, I’d like to say this… The next person who tells me that all that Baby Boy needs is, “a good ass whoopin’” is liable to receive one of their very own.

We took Baby Boy to see his neuro-psychiatrist on Monday. He explained the MRI confusion. Nothing appears to be wrong via the official results. The best guess is that the weakness and Babinski response are the result of nerve damage he’s done to himself when having a fit by jumping, stomping and in general throwing himself into walls and onto the floor.

We do now have a Dx, though. Baby Boy had one of his “episodes” in front of his doctor which led to the Dx of schizoaffective disorder. You can read about that here at the Mayo Clinic’s website. This has lead to a change of medications. He is still taking the Neurontin 3 times a day, but we have increased the Xanax to 4-5 times daily. No more Abilify and no more Geodon. We decided to give one more atypical-antipsychotic a try before moving on to the old standards. This last one we are trying is new, less than a year since it gained FDA approval for treatment of schizophrenic disorders. It’s called Invega. We’re doing a 15 day trial at the lowest dose (3mg) once to twice daily. Yesterday was his first day on it, but also his first day off of the other atypicals so he needed the night-time dose. So far it doesn’t look like he’ll need the night-time dose today.

While it’s a load off knowing that the MRI was nothing to be concerned about in the end. It is still unsettling knowing the Dx and that the outlook of this disorder with early onset isn’t as hopeful as that as early onset bipolar. Especially when it is this severe this early in life. There is a period of mourning that we are going through as parents. Maybe there will be more medical advances before he is an adult. That is what we pray for. Otherwise, it’s just a bit difficult to accept.

We’ve already contacted my attorney to get the ball rolling on a disability claim for Baby Boy. He’s going to need the income to cover things such as respite that insurance doesn’t cover and therapy that the insurance doesn’t cover. Hopefully it will go through without having to go to a hearing, but if we do end up having to go to a hearing, all the better, the administrative law judge will get to experience his disorder first hand because simply discussing it in front of him brings out the rage aspects of the disorder.

I don’t want to talk about this anymore today. It’s very difficult to care for Baby Boy as he tends to be rather verbally and physically abusive when in a rage. When, as a parent, you’ve experienced those things first hand from an actual abusive ex-spouse it’s hard to handle 90% of the time. I’m working on a thicker skin until we can afford to pay someone with psychiatric training to sit with him a couple of times a week just so I can get break now and then.

Unless it’s something major, I doubt that I’ll bring up the nasty bits on here again. I need my escape so pardon me if from here on out it’s posts about sex, paranormal, news, etc… I’m sure that a therapist would call it avoidance, while I’m sure that our neuro-shrink would call it therapy. Yes, that’s how contradictory the actual doctors are from the actual therapists.

Such is life, eh.

I’ve debated about posting this or not. But I figure, what the hell, if it helps someone else out there in internet land know that they aren’t alone, then I’ll bare my soul. The following is pasted from what I posted to a support group list that was pasted mostly from an email to Baby Boy’s doctor. He has already responded to the email and asked for us to bring him in on Monday. Which we will be doing.

Hold on. This one is a bumpy ride through hell.

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Hey all. I’m feeling the need to vent and rather than explain this day all over again, I’m going to just copy & paste from the email we just sent his doctor. (Whom encourages us to email him when things seem to be getting really bad with Nate). BTW, the current consensus is that his MRI was normal and we have no clue why the preliminary report was so entirely different than the final report or why it was sent to him in the first place as the facility’s policy is to only send final
reports.

Any who what follows is from the email to his doctor:

Nathan is starting cycle more rapidly again. It is becoming very difficult to deal with. At times he seems to be fine, calm and peaceful and then the next it’s like we aren’t even dealing with Nathan anymore. Without warning he becomes angry and hyper-vigilant with the focus mainly on me but at times anyone in the house at the time can become the focus of his fervor delusions that they are mean, trying to hurt him, you name something to be paranoid or worried that a person might be doing and it will come out of his mouth. Today I was an alcoholic in his mind and he searched the entire house for liquor bottles and made me empty my glass of soda and my water bottles because he was convinced that there was liquor in them. During all of this he will be pulling his hair and he is so angry that his face goes from red to blue.

At one point when I had him in a calm state again (achieved by getting him in a lavender scented shower after he had a bike crash in the mud), our neighbor’s dog was hit by a car. I quietly explained to him what had happened and asked him if he was calm enough to stay inside so I could check on the situation and see if they needed help. He said he was fine and that I should go help our neighbor. The instant I came back inside he was in hyper-vigilant paranoid mode telling me how mean I am and that I care about everyone but him. This episode lasted for about 30 minutes until Joseph came home and was able to distract him away from me and out of the room I was in.

Joseph was able to calm him down but in the process of talking to him he told Joseph that he (Joseph) had told him that I was bad and not to be trusted. He talked circles around that subject and then it was over.

It seems that the list of things that trigger his mood swings and delusions is getting longer everyday. And lately, I don’t know that I would even call them mood swings anymore but complete changes in his personality.

When I former classmate from “back home” posted this quiz as a MySpace bulletin, of course I had to take it.