Blondecisions

Drowning in hope

I just got done with a progress report and conference at school. I am feeling a bit lost in all the hope I have for my 11-year-old.

My very smart, very sweet little boy's life has been turned upside down for the past four years. He's been dianosed bipolar for about two years and this spring he was classified and placed in Special Education. He doesn't "process" well in academics and can't process stress like most people either.

He takes Lithium which can be one of the causes of his not processing well academically. No, we cannot change the med or lower it or mess with it in any way.

Anywhoo, he's now processing a bit better this fall. His self esteem is up. He's generally happy and trying to be responsible. He's able to do most of the work... but not producing enough of it. He's SO SLOW, he's not turning completed things in. His inner clock runs like a snail.

I know that every six months or so this little boy changes in some way that's large enough we have to change and adapt to it. So things will not always be the same. I hope that the fact that he IS finally processing better means he will also someday process faster again. I'm so full of hope that I'm drowning because the hope also depresses me.

How could he possibly keep a job or get through college or trade school when he goes so slow? How will he become a "productive member of society" if he goes the pace of a snail?

I cannot think of one thing he can do that would be okay for him to move so slowly (except work behind the counter at the Post Office. Okay, that wasn't appropriat, but it was funny!) and not come with a lot of stress. He's not an artist, most likely not a writer.

Dude, if only he were flexible and liked leotards I'd get him into yoga. A yoga teacher can be slow :-)

Thanks for letting me vent - I feel better already!

Blown Out Eardrums and Aggressive Accupuncture: oh my!

The latest heartbreaking tail of woe and medical bills is in: T. (with no ear problems ever) suddenly filled with fluid and burst both eardrums within a 3-day timespan. That's right! And it HAD to be over Labor Day weekend when you get only answering services and on-call doctors and $300 ER visits. Wahooodles!

He's been home all week due to the pain. Not good for him to miss so much school! Today he goes to the doctor's office.

I just started accupuncture again finally as the fatigue was absolutely soul crushing lately. She was pretty aggressive with the accupuncture, cupping and massage. I was a little worried when I heard them playing a message from someone who said the treatment was a "little traumatic" and they were too sore to come in that day. Like WHAT did I get myself into?

I left there with these huge bags under my eyes, my face was swollen, I was dizzy and sick to my stomach. I went home and passed out for about two hours; dead to the world. Luckily hubby was home to pick up the kids! But there was immediate energy for about 24 hours after I woke up, so that was too cool. Though I'm still hurting from some of the treatment and have to go back tomorrow. Ouch! My other accupuncturist was softer, but hey, if it worked that well, I am willing to do it again to get another burst of energy. Eventually the fatigue will subside altogether too.

Baby Fever: will it win?

I'm fighting this baby fever I've had on and off for a few years and it's winning.

One moment I feel I should let the hubster get a vasectomy and be happy with what we have. We've reached a great point in our lives where we have no diaper bags, no babies. The boys are 5, 8 and 11 and we have a lot of fun going to sports games and hiking, etc...

But the next moment I want one last baby.....for reasons that are important to me and that my hubby cannot argue with. And he admits he kind of wishes we had one more. But he cannot get over thinking it would be really bad for us. I completely understand his reasoning. I just cannot seem to end it there though. So we're actually talking about this seriously now.

I think the boys would be really helpful at their ages and they love babies and toddlers. They're really good with the babies and toddlers around here. Of course adding yet another sibling when we already have a big family isn't completely ideal. We're worried about the space in the house and the busy-ness and chaos.

The hubby is worried that I will have a hard time with the pregnancy (mine are usually hard, but I'd never tried things I use now to combat fibromyalgia like acupuncture). He's also worried about our stress and his being an absent father and being a stranger to the baby. He travels every week around the US and one of the guys he works with told him he's a stranger to his 10-month-old daughter.

I want a baby I actually plan. I want a natural birth with a practitioner who respects me and whom I like. I want a long-term successful breastfeeding relationship now that I am home full time and won't be tortured by pumping (or not) at work and working on no sleep. I want to ENJOY the baby this time. Having Jack was amazing after two stressful births and childhoods for the older boys. Now that I am home full time it will be even better.

Hubby says we will go back to square one and will have to put life on hold another 5 years. He's nearly three years past the age he wanted to be when he had a last child. He wants us to move on to the next stage and enjoy life. He's worried about my health and happiness. We're both worried about money in the long term and buying a house.

We both agree we wouldn't buy a ton of unecessary stuff for the baby - I'm a pretty veteran mom at this point and know what's frivolous. We both agree a more natural birth where we're in control is better. We both agree that we would wait until the baby is born to see what it is (we don't want to know).

The hubster is really dragging his feet and not getting into the subject much. I am on a rollercoaster of emotion and keep trying to choose. I have moments of clarity and want the vasectomy but they're usually short and ouutweighed by wanting a baby. It's silly and I should just stop and enjoy what I have and move on.

Ok, I just keep repeating myself - enough already! *sigh*

A little birdie told me...and I went straight to the looney bin

A new daily addition to my life is beginning to drive me mad! We have a pair of Western Scrub Jays in the neighbor's trees behind our back yard and they're seriously decreasing my life span. I'm losing shelf life every morning.

They sit in the trees and on the fence shrieking loudly for hours at my cat or anything else that might be in their view. The only reprieve is when my cat is inside for the night (rarely). But often he's yowling so loudly to go out, we stumble to the door and curse him on his way through. Or he's already out for that night and this is when the real fun begins. Outside the bedroom window by 4am, the Scrub Jays start screaming. Over and over and over. Every 1-2 seconds a shriek, sometimes faster.

Scrub Jays are known as the "forest sentinel." Go figure. They like to hurt other birds and they eat eggs and baby birds when they feel like a new cuisine. They swoop at my cat's head and neither they nor the cat are backing down. A consumate hunter he's killed everything from moles to rabbits and a bird or twenty. He would drag home a deer if he could.

I keep devising plans for their downfall. The birds have got to go. I don't know if the neighbors know that it's my cat that's upsetting the pair so much, but since the cat has to stay (my hubby is rather fond of him) then the birds need to fly.

What's worse is my son's incessant need to discuss the birds. I like birds and I love my son, but this combination is driving me crazy.

Housewife's smack

I'm on housewife's crack. A legal stimulant, but just about as addictive and hard to kick as heroine I'm sure. Caffeine or sugar are the drugs of choice when feeling particularly sluggish, sore and unmotivated. Nothing cures the pain of fibromyalgia (or motherhood) like slamming one back in the morning.

I told my husband I am absolutely sure that sugar, while helping me become more unhealthy in the long-term, is a short term fix for anything that ails me. It's an analgesic for sure - a painkiller divine. I know caffeine helps kill headaches, but for all over pain it's sugar. Not even from chocoloate necessarily (we've all heard of the healing powers of chocolate, right?), but from the sugar or a mix of the two.

And what about when you mix sugar with caffeine? A mocha latte, a 20 ounce Mountain Dew or a caramel chocolate Freddo (iced coffee from Peet's, a local coffee shop). See? Chocolate, caffeine and sugar is a temporary cure-all.

You get a great buzz and super mom kicks in. I don't feel the pain. All I hear is a slight buzz and the beating of my tachycardic heart. I'm able to chop down unruly rose bushes, hang laundry, clean the bathroom, and float through the messy kitchen clean-up while singing and dancing to my favorite tunes in just over an hour.

But man when you come down, you come down hard. Hence the reason it's time to break for another infusion of housewife's crack.

What I won't do for my stinky pup

My dog STANK. He was so ranky again it was time for an emergency bath session. But the hubster and I both hate bathing him in our tub and I don't want the mess in the kitchen. I win because I'm the wife, so hubby wants to try a new angle to get out of scrubbing on his knees. Off we went to a new place in town that caters to pet owners where we were told they had coin operated washing areas.

When we were pointed to the clerk to buy a token, I think my eyes narrowed in expectation of the bad news. I wasn't all that pleased with the amused look by three clerks that we were bringing in a froo-froo dog to wash as it was. Women's intuition, shopper's experience or whatever it was activated my bullshit radar. We were rung up for a $12.00 self service wash. Not a wash by a professional, but a self service wash.

The horror hung on my husband's face as he scanned my mood and the register over and over. Horror, amusement and intermittent hope that I would be crazy enough to buy it and let him out of the tub washing hell; I flatly refused. $12 bucks is nearly half of a wash, cut, dry and nail trimming at the groomers. $12 to wash my own dog?!

I don't care what look I got from the guy. I was nice about it. I nearly don't care that they stood around talking about me for a while. I really don't give a hoot. I can get my car washed for half that price by four men. I sure as hell am not paying $12 to wash my own dog.

I need a hobby

I've been hiding from my work and normal online hobbies since the move. The retail/wholesale business has drained me and is (luckily) in the process of being sold. The other biz is holding steady and improving in the nick of time.

I don't have any furniture to speak of, so I don't feel comfortable pulling out the art supplies. I haven't been in the mood to write anything more than a few posts here. I began catching up on my children's writer crit group when my laptop crashed (again).

I'm sort of floating along when it comes to "work." I'm unsure of how to continue on in this new place. I want to, but I feel like there's no inspiration. Of course I am so totally MOM and that's it, so it's not like I get any kind of reprieve or retreat to reconnect with the muse.

I did go to an Italian art festival with sidewalk artists this weekend AND went to the library (both with family in tow). I have stopped into the local bookstore since moving here and each thing makes me surge with motivation and creativity...until I go home that is. Then daily life takes over again.

Don't get me wrong - this domestic diva stuff has it's payoffs and I am pretty happy. I am very happy, in fact. But that creative piece is missing. I'm ok putting it off so long as I KNOW I will be chasing those dreams again this fall when J goes to half-day Kindergarten. ALL alone again for a few hours a day. Whoohoo!!

One night of domestic bliss

Last night I felt so peaceful and content and realized it was the first night since moving here nearly 8 weeks ago that my husband was not only home, but we were quietly enjoying separate activities. We weren't rabbid to be together because we'd been so far apart every week and only had two days to catch up. We didn't have friends or family over. The boys were in bed. He was dinking around the garage happily and I was shredding papers in the kitchen and watching my kind of television.

This is what marriages are made of sometimes I think. Peaceful coexistence and happiness being who you are and where you are. I was thinking of him out there and trying to decide on cleaning out my car. He was out there whistling and doing what men do in garages and thinking about how nice it would be to have me to talk to.

Finally we met up, cleaned the car and a few other things, listened to obnoxious tunes together and just had some fun before bed. That is, after my shredding was done.

One of the things I love about California is the sheer amount of crap you can recycle. New York is very limited. And I realized a paper shredder would make me able to recycle more as well as feel better about my personal address and info going out to the great unknown. So before buying a couch or even an end table, I bought a paper shredder.

Yesterday alone I overheated the sucker three times as I cleaned out a couple of file boxes we'd brought with us. The kick I got on clearing house before we left hasn't left my system. I love being tidy and organized and having less stuff.

My husband thinks I am obsessed with the shredder (I think he called it a sordid affair), but it's really with the prospect of more uncluttering. There's this insane (and fairly obscene) natural high I get from cleaning and organizing. I'm obsessed with seeing my walls and floors and not having a thousand places where dust and dirt collect.

I told the hubby I want to check Ikea one more time for an enclosed entertainment unit for the living room before I decide on a really cute set of shelves and media center we found at World Market. I want to not have dust (that we're HIGHLY allergic to) all over my books and CDs.

But he is all for the World Market set and thinks we could just dut the shelves every week or two. WE could dust the shelves. P'SHAW! Like WE could sweep the house, do the dishes and laundry, take the kids to and from school, water the flowers, wash the floors, cook, clean the cat box, shop and clean the bathrooms. Hubby is too far away most of the time, so the dust(ing) literally falls on my shoulders.

I don't hold it against him, I just need him to be realistic. Though I MUST give it to him (and have!) for being much more helpful and clean when he is home. He's really trying now to help keep things picked up more so I don't have so much of a mess on my hands. And the boys are usually pretty easy to enlist for odd jobs because we're teaching them responsibility and teamwork. Whew...

Anyway, tonight seems like another nice candidate for a quiet evening. A friend of hubby's may be coming over but he's so cute and fun when he's had a few beers and quiet before and after that, so he's no problem. When he's drunk he tells me how much my hubby loves me, so that's always nice to have around ;-)

The kids are up for at least one more hour, so I'm off like a prom dress, Dudes.

Missing my hubby

I don't know if hard times and bad things happen often when my husband is home, because he's the buffer between me and the world. My rock. But when he's traveling, things happen all the time that drag on me and I notice them more because I don't have his strength behind me. sure, when he's home he's a pain in the ass as all husbands are! But overall I adore him and draw a lot of strength from him when he's near - like an energy transfer. I can only imagine how hard I am on him when I'm literally sucking his energy.

The last 6 weeks have been a flurry of activity and transformations. We moved 3,000 miles, hubby started traveling intensely with this job, I gave up a lot of my work and focused more on the house and the kids, I've met a ton of people, and a lot of really shitty things have happened. I'm strong in the moment of crisis, but this has been prolonged. By week number 4 I started to crack. It didn't help that I was highly hormonal during my period and it left me absolutely drained. I'm still recovering from that and trying to find my patience with the kids and everyday life.

Well, off to bed.... the house is clean, it's dark outside, I've got no wine, there's no Grey's Anatomy or House to watch and I have no motivation to do anything else. So I might as well catch some Zzzz's before the hubster gets home. He's coming in late tonight for (I hope!) 4 days.

Beautiful children

I must say, I have beautiful children. This has been confirmed by many. And now that my little men have gotten a California golden glow this spring, they're even more beautiful. I know I find them to be absolutely gorgeous and that's because I'm mom, but other people comment on their good looks too. This morning again, someone in a line at the coffee shop just couldn't gush over J enough. His curls, his chin, his dimples.

I'm asked if their father is handsome sometimes. I think that's because they can't believe such beautiful children came from me. JERK WADS! I was beautiful too! I was, I swear!

This is where I should post a pic, but alas, I broke my camera during the move to Cali. I dropped it in a parking lot in the midwest somewhere and it heaved it's final goodbye. So I've put in a photo from nearly 5 years ago that's one of my faves. Thank goodness Big al has new glasses that aren't so... round ;-)