Wild-Heart.net

After my own music collection Rick Rolled me a little bit ago, it then surprised me with this song. Talk about immediate flashbacks of awkward High School dances with the dread slow dances. This was the slow song that never seemed to end. The song for the dance in which you realized you really did like the guy you were dancing with or that he was a right bore and you would rather be anywhere but there more than you had the whole night and started thinking of nice ways to break up with him without hurting his feelings.

And I want to pull my hair back and scream, “I don’t want to be the queen!”

Chelle took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test!“Feels she has been unjustly and undeservedly treat…” Click here to read the rest of the results.

Always amazes me how picking colors on a screen is always so accurate in getting to the bottom of whatever is bugging the hell out of me.

I think I’ve written in the past, if not in the current archives, at least at some point in the last 7 years of blogging, that my mother had a mission to expose my sister and I to what she considered great works of literature at very young ages. Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead were read to us at some point before we were 6 and 7. Of course she left out parts she felt were to adult for our innocent minds. But Rand was there, along with Tolkien and The Bible and many others. This probably explains a lot about my own crazy brain.

As an adult I’ve gone back and read Rand’s works on my own and while I find her philosophy of Objectivism and it’s relation to Libertarianism intriguing and can see how being exposed to her works at an early age influenced who I am today, I find her writing style to be something that drives me absolutely bonkers. Reading her works as an adult I wished I could smack her at times for coming across as presenting her philosophy in a manner, that feels to me, akin to theology. For a woman/author who professed to be an atheist she sure did have a way of getting preachy. Not that I disagree with her philosophy, I simply don’t enjoy her writing style. I love to watch old interviews of her and taped lectures that she gave, I just don’t want to read her books ever again.

Which now brings me to the series of books that I am now, thankfully, nearly finished reading. The Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind. When I picked up the first book in the series nearly a year ago, I knew nothing about the author or the series. I read the back cover and the first few pages and thought I’d give it a go. I really enjoyed the first two books. Then came the third and something struck a chord in me. The author was obviously a fan of Ayn Rand. I ended up at his website and sure enough, he has links to The Ayn Rand Institute and pages explaining his philosophy and how it is inspired by Rand’s Objectivism.

I spend more time reading these days than I do prattling about on the internet. By the time our homeschool day is over I am pretty much sick of looking at computer screen and once the boys are all in bed I’d rather curl up with a book and escape the stress of the day than try to come up with something entertaining and witty to put here. Goodkind’s series has been what has occupied most of my evenings since Baby Boy’s first hospitalization a year ago next month. I’m nearly done with the tenth book in the eleven book series and I want to smack the author with his ponytail. He’s not inspired by Objectivism. He’s obsessed with it. Let’s see, how do I describe this series of books… Take some Tolkien, toss in some R.A. Salvatore, a pinch of Robert Jordon and a crap load of one tragic hero who’s supposed to save the world but doesn’t know how but does know how to preach endlessly the importance of individualism and objectivism and freedom and you have the series in a nutshell. Which also leaves you with a a nutty Chelle, because I feel compelled to finish any series of books that I start.

Except for Terry Pratchett. How anyone can put him on the same par as Douglas Adams is beyond me. But then again, when it comes to British comedic-satire, I adore Adams but can’t stand Pratchett. Just as I adore many Brit-coms but never could stand Monty Python.

One more Goodkind book and I can put this series behind me. Any recommendations as to what I should sink my literary teeth into next?

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Thanks to that show I had a night filled with nonsensical, seriously warped dreams of The Smurfs. I was Azriel and it was snowing and I was freezing. Woke up from the dream to find Joseph had stolen all of the covers yet again and I really was very cold and I had to pee. Just an hour before the alarm clock was due to go off. I hate Robot Chicken.

My short list of my biggest pet peeves. In no particular order. Strike that. The first one is my biggest.

• Habitual Liars.
• People who can’t keep their noses out of other people’s business.
• People who gossip.
• People who don’t flush the toilet.
• People who don’t listen to you when conversing with them and then proceed to take some sort of imaginary offense at something you supposedly said but didn’t say because they have zero clue because they weren’t really listening to begin with.
• People who do everything at the last minute.
• People 14 and over who cannot wake up to an alarm clock and get themselves ready for work or school w/out having to be constantly re-woken every 5 minutes until they are out of the door.

I’ll bet you have a list. Wanna share?

I can’t hit a ball, never could, and I feel like I’ve been stuck in a batting cage for the last month dodging a never ending barrage of balls being pitched at me.

Where to begin? As if any of this matters other than clearing cobwebs from my mind so that maybe I’ll actually feel like blogging again instead of hiding.

Let’s start with the quack of a doctor I started seeing for primary care last fall who informed me that I have COPD, told me that it was in my medical records yet refused to show me where exactly in my records it was and when my symptoms were not getting better refused to refer me to a pulmonologist or a cardiologist even though it had been over six years since having seen either one. Well, I finally found and had my insurance change me over to an internist that seems to be relatively competent. He would have an even better time of doing his job if the afore mentioned quack would release my medical records to him.

New doctor set me up with a referral to a pulmonologist. Pulmonologist reviewed my x-rays, had me do a breathing test, said my asthma is under control and the problem is not COPD but that as I had suspected, the pulmonic valve stenosis stuff is worse and that I need to get a referral to a cardiologist as soon as possible because with the symptoms I am exhibiting it is possibly time to replace that heart valve and, “when you go, if they decide it’s time, make sure you tell them that I want to be on the surgical respiratory team because what you have is really rather rare and I’d love to be there for the surgery.” Gee, Doc, you bet, I’ll make sure you get to be there for the freak show. Still waiting to hear back from my internist on the cardiology referral.

Then there was the referral to the GYN. It had been 5 years since I’d had the lovely pap done. Yes, I know. I am a Darwin candidate. Especially since I’ve had three procedures to remove (non-HPV related thank you very much) pre-cancerous cells removed in the past. She did the exam and history, etc. Asked if had any concerns or questions. I let her know that I’ve had no less than 12 menses since the first of the year and about the cervical pain I experience during sex. She had no answer for the frequent menses other than a possible sign of perimenipause and/or stress and then told me that the cervical pain was most likely all psychological in nature. Lovely. Nothing like having the person who just peered up your vagina telling you that you have mental health issues with sex. Five days later I got a call from the GYN telling me that my pap results came back with results for a non-STD related bacterial infection and she actually apologized and said that was the cause of my cervical pain. When I asked her what caused the infection she made a statement that made my husband beam with pride when I later told him, “These types of infections are usually the result of repeat injury to the cervix, if your partner is well endowed, that is the most likely cause of the repeat injury leaving the cervix vulnerable to infection from normal bacteria.” Way to go, Joe! In the mean time, I’ve had cramps like a mofo ever since that pap three weeks ago. Made worse by the pelvic ultrasound that she scheduled and that I had done yesterday. Talk about a surprise. I hobbled my way back to the exam room and the tech pulls out the vaginal probe, “I’m going to be doing a vaginal ultrasound today, we get clearer pictures of the uterus and the ovaries this way.” Way to ruin a day.

I think I can talk briefly, in circles about how things are going concerning the information in the password protected post. Let me just say, after having played the nice neighbor once in this neighborhood and the one neighbor that became a daily part of our lives losing his mind and murdering someone, I will never again be the friendly neighbor. I don’t want to know who my neighbors are. I don’t want my children to know who our neighbors are. Baby Boy is just now starting to re-stabilize after having to deal with the trauma of another male figure in his life doing something horrifying.

On the plus side of things, I think we’ve finally found our homeschool groove. Boy #2 distracts Baby Boy and Baby Boy distracts Boy #2. Boy #2 however, is a night owl, so he stays up late, logs in and does his school work from 9pm until 2am and then sleeps until 11am. Baby Boy works on his school work from 7:30am until noon. Unconventional but it works for us. The best part is that it keeps Boy #1 and Boy #2 from their previous routine of bitching at each other for at least an hour every night at bedtime until one of them gives up and falls asleep.

Another positive, the topamax has done wonders at keeping the migraines at bay and even seems to be helping the fibromyalgia a bit. It’s also a wonderful thing to have the flexeril on hand for the days when the spasms and spasticity would otherwise have me tethered to the walker.

Blogged about something you really enjoy? I mean something that brought an emmese amount of joy into your life on a daily basis. And then has the comments for that blog post made you absolutely sickened by that thing to the point that you mourn the loss of the joy it used to bring you?

Just wondering because that’s how I’m starting to feel about the song on this post. The popularity of that post and song thanks to that bleepity-bleeping M&M’s commercial is really starting to make me bitter.

And still no java. Why? Because with all of the livingroom furniture crammed into the kitchen I can’t reach my coffee maker. This is not a pretty site.

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As the day went on and no dumpster arrived, as 19:00 approached I sent my son outside to call the maintenance man to let him know that the dumpster has not yet arrived. He was told, “Oh, that’s right. I should have called and told you. It won’t be there now until Thursday.”

As I sit here in my empty living room void of all furniture except my desk and  office chair. I just knew as soon as my neighbor said, “Hey! I’ve got energy to burn. Let me move that stuff into the kitchen for you!” That I would be doomed to two days of my life on hold for just one room.

This had better be worth it.

So. You know the remodeling we’ve done to the townhome that we don’t own? The house full of new Ikea furniture and gallons of paint? And the waiting for the property manager to let us know if we get wood-grain linoleum instead carpet in the major living areas?

I just found out 30 minutes ago that yes indeed we really finally do and guess what?! They start tomorrow morning! I have to have all furniture out of the living room by 8am. Where’s Houdini when you need him?

At least it’s all going to be done before Boy #1 gets back home… With my mother along to visit for the first time in… well… ever since I moved to Georgia. Six years.

Song of the day followed of by a brief photo *cough* essay *choke* if you can call that of what the rest of my day will entail if only I lived in my fantasy world.

If the books and supplies are put away that must mean that the homeschool day is finally finished.

Yeap. Looks like the family workstation and homeschool central is straightened up for the day.

And I’ve already prepared Zen central. Even more supplies stashed away under the coffee/altar table.

Not quite yet though. Must make meatloaf first. And this is what awaits in the kitchen. *le sigh* What do you use your Ikea Blue Bag for? Awesome laundry bag for us.

I might sell my soul to for someone just to do my dishes. My mother tells me that’s what teenagers are for. I’d rather they pile up than listen to them complain about a sink full when there’s a dishwasher. Why I remember when I was a teenager we didn’t have a dish washer. And we had to walk barefoot in the snow… five miles up hill…Seriously though.. no dishwasher until this house.

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I once owned a life sized poster of Rick Springfield. I practically drooled over his character on General Hospital. Noah Drake. *dreamy sigh*

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Not only did I grow up watching General Hospital. But it has only been 6 years since I completely gave up Soap’s. Now the part that’s really painful, should you chose to watch the video below, know that I not only remember watching each of those very old scenes as they happened, I also can’t watch it without crying.

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While my uncle Jim may have “given” me the song from whence came the domain name of where we now are, my mother gave me two to be be stuck with forever. First was that Beatles tune which will forever haunt me and second was this Carpenters tune. Cheese city, no?

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• Paid blogging = The final payoff for all of those years of therapy for millions everywhere.
• Not to mention the return on the self-help books purchased during the 80’s.
• If only I had Stuffr for Linux… I would have clicked “Publish” by now.

*Note: I was not paid by Slobokan in anyway to tell you to get Stuffr. This was not a paid post!

I very rarely talk about matters of weight loss. Having been a person of “normal” weight until reaching my senior year of HS, I don’t know why I still find it difficult to talk about. Name any other subject and I’ll happily discuss it for hours. But my weight and diet struggles and triumphs I usually tend to keep very private. I think growing up watching my mother’s struggles with weight have a lot to do it with it, maybe. My mother owned two copies of a nutritional guide book through the years. One an updated version of the other. I grew up knowing more about nutrition and eating healthy than most children probably do.

That knowledge didn’t stop me from turning into a slowly inflating human balloon as an adult though. I am still reluctant to join any groups. Even free ones such as this free calorie counter. I’ve browsed through their website and typed a few things into their database search and honestly, I think it’s a very smart place for those who don’t know what they are doing to their bodies and want to start learning and keeping track. Their database is full of nutritional label facts for a wide variety of prepared foods. My only wish is that there was a way to put a recipe into their database and see what end results are.

I know that already prepared food is a boon for those of us struggling to lose weight and then maintain that weight-loss once it is achieved. I just can’t bring myself to deal with the preservatives that are packaged along with the food. I think far too many of us are going to end up being well preserved long after death as a result of preservatives. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t admonish those who eat them now and then. Especially those with families or who are on a tight food budget. I just know that personally, I feel a lot healthier when I’m eating fresh whole foods.

It’s not always a bad thing. Boy #2 just brought down a bunch of discs they had taken off to their room with. What was in the stack of discs but a DVD backup that I had completely forgotten about. Why is that exciting? I now have my lost music collection back! This has got to be a good omen!

I purchased a new computer late this past May. It has an Intel Core Duo and is quite a bit more beefy than the computer I built 5 years ago. The going Intel makes me feel like a traitor to AMD. It also cost a great deal less than the parts combined to build that computer 5 years ago. It came preloaded with XP Professional. I had previously purchased a laptop but returned it as soon as it became evident that it was not going to make anything more convenient for me and it came preloaded with Vista Home Basic. What horrid experience that OS was.

As would come to no surprise to anyone who knows me I turned to my old faithful… Fedora Core, this time Core 7. I tried both the 64 bit build and the regular build. I had nothing but problems with my wifi. One day it would work, the next it didn’t. In the end I contacted a former college and Linux sys-admin about configuring madwifi. He told me the best advice he could give me was to try Ubuntu instead. But being the KDE whore than I am, I went for Kubuntu instead. I fought for 3 days to get  the wifi working with our router and to stop attempting to connect me to our neighbor’s wifi.

I’m still fighting to get samba to play nice with our household network. I don’t think Kubuntu was quite ready with their KDE modules. My smb.conf is forever being overwritten. By what? I’m too busy to find out. Currently I’m installing gnome just to be able to log in with to Gnome and be able to use their tools to configure samba. Yes I could attempt to find and solve the problem, but the time it’s taking me to write this is really more time than I can spare in a day until Baby Boy is asleep.

If that doesn’t work, I’ll download and install Ubuntu and then install KDE. But not w/out a full back up. I thought I’d be safe with the files from my 5 yr. old machine but the external hard drive enclosure we  have fried my 80 gig drive. 60 of those gigs were music.

In all it’s been kind of fun. And I really think with the advances being made by the Ubuntu community that now would be the perfect time for Corel to start doing the Draw Suite for Linux again. If Adobe’s Shockwave developers for the hopeful linux version would actually show us some progress, *Ubuntu Linux would absolutely perfect for every computer in this house. Even Joseph concedes to the bit about Shockwave.

So there you have it, the one confession of switchery that I didn’t make is that I am no longer an ATI whore either.

I’ve changed my brand loyalty three times over and I’ve purchased instead of built my own. Somehow, I feel a bit dirty and underhanded.

And my mother thinks I should be hosting a backyard neighborhood party for my 35th birthday. My mother. Somebody better be bringing Tequila. I’ve got the blender. Since when is 35 a milestone birthday? Since you might be wondering why my mother has anything to say about this, Boy #1 is currently on “vacation” at their home in Iowa. When he returns on the 26th, my mother is flying back with him to stay for a bit. Just in time for my birthday. Yes. Tequila.

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Yesterday’s appointment with the new internist when okay, I think. He was quick and thorough and there wasn’t a whole lot he was able to do other than take brief history until my medical records reach him. I have to go Thursday or Friday morning to a lab to have blood drawn. My blood pressure was low and his nurse wasn’t able to get it and it took him two tries. The reason for going to the lab is that I have tiny veins on a good day and they can only rarely be hit on a first try.

I like the nurse at the new clinic. She stopped after the second stick and sayd, “Honey, I’m sending you to the lab. I refuse to hurt you again.” See, the only clear vein she could find was in my hand. I have so much scar tissue on my hands on wrists and inner elbows from lab sticks and iv sticks it’s not even funny. I was once told by the obstetrical nurse who took care of me the first time I was hospitalized for dehydration do to severe “morning” sickness when preggers with Boy #1, that after that bad bout of dehydration, nurse would forever have a difficult time sticking me. She wasn’t lying. I can’t recall the exact number of times that if in the hospital I’ve had to stop an over zealous lab tech and beg them to please call an for someone in anesthesia to get the vein.

My previous doctor was forever treating my COPD with steroid medications even after seeing the effect they were having on my mind and body. Whenever I asked the previous doctor if there was anything he could do that didn’t involve steroids he was emphatic that steroids were the best. He ended up concluding that I must have some sort of metabolic thing going on because even a 3 day course of prednisone would have me rapid cycling through hypo-mania and depression and wanting to eat the house.

The new doctor understood my medicinal sensitivies right away and said in his heavily Egyptian accent, “There is one thing but I don’t know if your insurance will pay for it. We will try.” That one thing is Spirivia Handihaler. *I just tried linking and WP’s editor didn’t play nice.* Within 30 minutes of the first dose I could tell a dramatic difference and it iss supposed to get even better by the end of the 30 days. I’ve also noticed a dramatic decline in the frequency in which I have to reach for the rescue inhaler. This is good stuff.

There is always a downside, though. It makes me feel speedy for about 6 hours after taking it. Try being physically crippled by a fibromyalgia flare-up and wanting to crawl out of your skin because you hurt but your mind and body are saying, “We don’t care how bad you hurt we need to do this and that and this other thing and you should go up and down the stairs a few more times.”

I’m exhausted. The package insert says this will dissipate over time. I sure as heck hope so.

I tried to find that bit but it seems no one has made one for that scene yet. Why? It’s all I can think of today as Joseph paints our bedroom. I can’t wait until its done. The first thing I’m going to do after we get back from my doctor appointment tomorrow is put The Princess Bride in the DVD player. For now enjoy The Battle of Wits.

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Why must he feel the need to take over whatever she is doing with that screwdriver?

If a man takes away a woman’s screwdriver he’d better be replacing it with the alcoholic beverage type of screwdriver.

I’ve made a decision and I’m sticking to it.

I can’t recall if I posted before about the house hunting we were doing. Keyword “were” and you may as well change that “we” to an “I.” Long story short. I married a man with Asperger’s that has never been treated in therapy and whom also turned 30 last year. Yes, I robbed the cradle but that is besides the point. See, he also has some OCD tendencies and the general thinking in the psychiatric world is that for some reason, once a person with OCD tendencies reaches their early 30’s it will either get much better for them or much worse. His has gotten worse.

I love my husband and I hate to complain so much but you try living with someone who has a fear of bodily fluids and a fear of moving. That bodily fluid thing can really screw with a girl’s self esteem when it comes to matters of sex. But I keep reminding myself that it’s his problem and not mine. Which isn’t easy especially when you live with 5 male beings in the house and they disdain everything “girly.” It’s not easy when you’re lying there hot, sweaty and satiated after sex and you open your eyes to see your husband propped up on his elbows with his hands up in the air like a surgeon waiting for gloves and hear the words, “Hurry up and get me cleaned up so I can wash my hands.” Huh? What? Okay. Such is life.

I keep reminding myself that in less than 9 yrs., all of the children but Baby Boy will be living elsewhere, be it work & school, or just one or the other. When they turn 18 they will be responsible for themselves. Cold? Perhaps, but they’ve been warned and prepared for that magical age for several years now.

The money we saved from my disability back-pay after 4 years of fighting for it? That tax refund that was going with it to put a down-payment on a house. It all went into new furnishings for the town home. If he ever gets around to painting the stairwell, the minute hallway, and our bedroom, the property manager promised new sub flooring and carpet & linoleum throughout the home. He’s got until this weekend to get it done. This had all better be done before my mother arrives bringing back Boy #1 on the 26th of next month.

But the choice I made that I’m sticking to is thus. Due to a snag that occurred during that 4 year battle for disability, I lost the ability to have a passport. That will be changing very soon. In fact, it will be changing around tax season next year. I married a basement dweller w/out a basement who was lucky enough to marry not once, but twice. With 3 bio kids to claim on taxes every year, it results in a very nice tax refund. I announced that next year, he can get his toy car. He’s been lusting for another Honda CRX since his was totaled by a drunk driver over 10 years ago. But in exchange, I want a 3 day 2 night all inclusive vacation somewhere far away from home and children. And I want one every year. And I will have one as soon as I am able to get that passport.

I let Joseph know that he is more than welcome to join me on these yearly 3 day vacations. He replied wanting to know if any of them would involve a boat or flying over large bodies of water (his OCD list also includes extreme fear of water). I replied that they most certainly would and he said, “You can go alone.” I replied, “That’s great! We won’t have to spend money on airfare to get my mother to spend 3 days with the children. You can be here with them while I get a break!”

I sat outside and sunbathed this afternoon while the boys played in the little pool that I fought to replace. The sun felt so soothing on my aching muscles and joints. Was only able to stay out for about 45 minutes though until I noticed that I was starting to pink. Not too pink, just slight shade that lets me know that any more time in the sun and I will be looking like a lobster instead of a dark skinned Italian. I never used to burn. Not until moving to Georgia. And on the rare occasions that I did burn, it would be gone in 48 hrs. leaving a nice dark tan.

The fresh air was nice. Since the bit of rain we’ve been getting we no longer have the stench of the swamp fires from the Southern part of the state permeating the air. I think I’m going to attempt to make that my daily routine. 45 minutes away from indoor responsibilities isn’t too selfish. Well, it still will make me feel guilty but that’s what chocolate cures.

Now for the Hornsby’s Amber Draft Hard Cider… Normally, my only monthly extravagant, self indulgence is getting my acrylic nail’s filled. But tonight, after getting them filled in, I had a craving for hard cider and Wal-Mart had Hornsby’s on sale and I said to Joseph, “The hell with a bottle of cheap wine. I want cider.” We came home from the nail salon/grocery shopping excursion and I popped the first one open while waiting for the pizza to finish cooking. I sipped it until it was time to tuck the little one’s in to bed and then I grabbed another and went to sit outside and visit with my neighbor for about an hour. After that second one it was time to start wrapping up the conversations and go inside. I had to find my husband. The cider had gave me that certain sort of “buzz.” If you get my drift.

This rest of this is going to be way too much info most of you. Explicit adult sexual content follows. Sort of. For those closet perverts, the rest is beyond the “more” link.

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• My nest is half empty pushing my anxiety level to new levels. Some may think that the years in which I did not have physical custody of my bio-boys was fun and easy. Little do they know me. It left me with an irrational fear of being separated from both my bio-boys and my bonus-boy.
• Baby Boy continues to struggle for stability. Friday I finally had an opportunity to speak with our family psychiatrist about this without him being present. The consensus being, severe early onset of schizoaffective with the major problem being, due to his previous hospitalizations, he tries very hard to maintain a facade of not letting anyone know when he is struggling with the auditory and visual hallucinations resulting in an increase of stress to maintain that control which triggers the mania aspects. The doctor said that he has one of the most severe cases of early onset he has seen yet also shows the most uncanny willpower to mask it and attempt to control it that he has ever seen. We also discussed this being the last time we try a different atypical anti psychotic. If this med combo doesn’t work, it’s time to pull out the “big guns” of the older and more potent schizophrenic medications.
• Had a lumbar MRI six weeks ago which revealed degenerative disc disease with two discs being fused with calcification spreading up the back of the spine and one disc bulging. This explains the lower body neuropathy and neurological symptoms but not the tremors in the upper extremities and decreasing fine motor skills. Waiting for a referral to a neurologist to make sure it’s just the fibromyalgia and not something else co-occurring.
• On Memorial Day I made the best smoked/grilled chicken ever. I also ended up with heat exhaustion from being outside all afternoon in the sun and the heat from the grill.
• Joseph is on vacation this week. The goal is to finish painting the interior of our town-home. The kitchen is half done. I’ll attempt finishing it tomorrow while Joseph works on patching holes throughout the rest of the house. When we’re done, the property manager claims new sub flooring, carpet and linoleum will be soon to follow.
• Father in-law and his significant other will be visiting a week from Sunday. We haven’t seen them since our wedding. It always throws me off guard. Joseph is a carbon copy of his father… only taller. His father also has the most unsettling way of looking a person straight in the eyes in a way that leaves one feeling that your soul has been left completely visible to him… It’s Joseph with age and wisdom. Lord, what a future Joseph and I have if Joseph also gains that much of his father in years to come.
• My last living grandparent is failing. She had the beginning stages of renal failure and was refusing to eat. She seems to have improved a great deal and I’ve been told that she’s came out of the renal failure. Her birthday is Sunday. I have to try and find a good time to call her this week. She keeps asking my parents, “When is my girl going to call me? She’s long overdue to call.” Thing is, having Nate home full time since his last hospitalization has left me with little time for luxuries such as long phone calls. And Grandma always talks with me for a very long time, always at least an hour and a half. Thank the gods for unlimited long distance!
• Boy #1 is now 5′ 9″ and only 15 years old. He just might grow into thoe size 12 feet someday.
• Boy #2 is now 14 and lord help my sanity. His personality is that of a great-uncle that while living, lived to keep drama going in the family. He carries a giant spoon with which to stir the pot at will.
• I’m a horrible mother of sons. While I enjoy them more the older they become, and the teen years aren’t quite as horrible as I had feared, the voice changes that boys go through is akin to nails down a chalkboard. There are days that I dread waking up as I know it will be followed by Boy #2’s forever changing and croaking and screeching voice.
• My mother will be here for my birthday this year. She will be arriving two days prior. She wants to meet Joseph’s family that lives here in GA and has suggested that my birthday should be the day. I’m more inclined to simply leave her to supervise the children and take a night away from home in a local hotel. Alas, between my mother’s wish and those of my neighbors & friends it will likely be that I play hostess for my own backyard birthday party.
• Bonus Boy is insistent that he wants to be here for the entirety of my mother’s visit and has begged Joseph to please ask his mother if he may stay with us the entire 12 days instead of just the 7 in the middle. I won’t hold my breath for that one.
• Sunday, the boys and I watched an older movie that has long been a favorite of Boy #1’s which he hadn’t seen a few years, 8 Seconds, the story of bull rider Lane Frost’s life. Boys #1 & 2 and I followed it with an older Julia Roberts movie, Something To Talk About, simply because, while it’s set in The South, it reminds us so much of life “back home.” Not to mention Robert Duvall reminds us so much of my Dad.
• Boy #2 has enrolled in Time4Learning for the summer with his goal being to complete 7th grade curriculum this summer and then take a grade placement test when school starts back in August. If he completes this goal, having seen Georgia’s mandated curriculum requirements for 8th grade public schools, he just might end up placed in 9th grade… There is that much of a disparity and that much lacking Georgia public school curriculum.
• Boy #1 wants to try to get accepted into National Guard Youth Challenge as soon as he turns 16 in January. I’ve been working with one of their mentoring coordinators to find a qualified mentor here in Macon that is willing to at least meet him so we can get the ball rolling. Last week, I dreamed of his wedding. It was unsettling to say the least but reassuring just the same. He later told me that when he is done with NGYC his goal is to join the Marines. Which made the fact that in the dream he was in full Marine dress uniform for his wedding, a bit more unnerving.
• I wish I was more tolerant of having two teenagers with two different musical preferences in my home. Honestly, I have to hand it to my parents. They rarely complained when my sister had her music blaring from one side of the house and I had mine baring from the other. In their shoes I would have gone completely insane.
• I think I’m finally getting sleepy. I’ll attempt something more interesting and upbeat tomorrow.

Ciao for now.~

It’s paved with good intentions.

I need to offer my apologies to those who’ve been concerned. I’m sorry. We’ve been through a tough two weeks with Boy #1 (15 yr. old). Actually it’s been tough with all four of them. For reasons I won’t bore you with for fear of sounding like a Jerry Springer guest, the boys have been going through a version of Mommy’s Boot Camp. Through Baby Boy’s two hospitalizations and the following adjustment period as we’ve began homeschooling him, the other 3 have taken advantage of the situation. It was time to reign them in and regain control of the household.

They tried to break me. Yes. My own flesh and blood rebelled for a good 4 days until they started to see the light of day. By day 7 I was able to raise a fist in triumph. They didn’t win!

So again, my most sincere apologies to those who’ve inquired about the state of my health and sanity. Also, an apology to Norbert at Akron Grove, he and his wife hand-make some very wonderful products and were gracious to send me a small box of samples to try and review for them here on WH. It has now been two weeks since I received their package and have yet to have the time to write the review and give them a link of prominence in the sidebar. It will be coming very soon. Feel free to give them a visit in the meantime.

Ciao for now!

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.

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.