The blog in which I curse dessert.

I had a long day with a sickly little chicky.  Shay had a cough from the weekend away, and by the time she got home from school yesterday, she was in tears with a horrific sore throat and was not able to speak because the congestion was so thick in her throat.  She was pathetic.  I have been medicating each hour I am allowed to do so, and usually, her pain, fever, congestion or general miserable-ness is back way before I can dose again.  So, sweet thing spent part of the day sleeping, and part watching Netflix TV.  I have had my fill of My Little Pony, Garfield, and a horrible movie called Pet Pals.  No joke.  It was awful.

At dinner time, I tried to make glow in the dark bubbles after I remembered seeing it on Pinterest.com.  Negative.  I can get the solution to glow, but not the bubbles.  There's your heads up.  You're welcome.     Dinner ended, and if the Pin-strosity wasn't enough of a frustration, here comes dessert.

Shay- Mommy, I ate all my dinner.  May I have dessert?

Me- Of course! You can have whatever you want!  (She was not eating at all today, and I had to beg her to eat.  I'm sure the medicine didn't help.  She made a meal out of her medicines every few hours, and that Sudafed is an appetite suppresant.)

Shay- What do we have?

Me- Uh, well... Some chocolate Teddy Grahams?  Apple Sauce?  Trail Mix and you can dig out the M&M's and throw the peanuts and raisins back in the bag?  (I haven't been to the store in a while.)

Shay- (Looking in the pantry, spots the Pez dispenser bag with a few Pez rolls.)  May I have these?

Me- Sure.  Go for it.

I start cleaning up, and then she comes back with a sad attempt at opening the paper package on a Pez roll.  She asks for help, and of course, I'd be happy to help.  I put down my dishes and wipe my hands. At this point, I should have suited up to go to battle, but all I thought was necessary was to dry my hands.  Little did I know....

First, I didn't dry them well enough, and the one little Pez that was partly sticking out of the wrapper got wet.  Eww.. that won't taste so great.  Then, I couldn't get the wrapper open from the end she started, so I flipped it around.  So far, not a huge level of frustration, but I can see this will take some finesse- and I don't think I'm the chick for the job, but I continue on.  I have a fresh start at this side, and quickly realize that I need to slow down.  I slow down, and quickly realize that I need a freakin' machete if my child is to have dessert before my next menstrual cycle.  I finally get it open.  Not all the way.  Only enough to get about four Pez out.  Then, I drop one.  HOLY BAT BALLS!  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  So, I pick it up.  At this point, I think, I will stop the package opening process, and I will stuff these little suckers into the belly of the dispenser before I drop any more.  I am nearly thirty-six years old, and have not been practicing this skill for the past thirty six years, however, I thought I was fully capable of doing this task without the need of a surgical assistant.  I thought wrong.  So, I attempt to get these four in about three times, and finally get them in, all laying down perfectly straight, and I think, "Can't this be sufficient?"  Well, I didn't bother to ask, as I know the disappointment on my daughters face would have caused me to throw myself into a bottle of alcohol, so I decided to just finish the job at hand.  I put the dispenser down, and go back to peeling paper off from around the rest of the package.  I think it came off into about 62.3 pieces.  That seems about right.  The whole package is no longer than your little finger.  At this point, I would have eaten my own little finger I thought it might speed the process up.  I begin thinking that this might become an awesome torture exercise for prisoners at war.  Then I thought, "Sad that my brain goes this way.  Maybe I should just start drinking now."  I didn't.  I knew that I had work to do, and my daughter was beginning to doubt my abilities and my enthusiasm for the request.  She is my empathetic child.

Shay- Mom?  Do you need help?

Me- Yes, but not the type you are thinking.  However, Charlie's therapist refuses to call me back, therefore, I think we are a lost cause.

Shay- Huh?  Okay.  Let me know when you are done.

That was her way of saying, "Take your time.  I see that you are struggling, and I love you anyway."  I love her.

Dessert.  I think I deserve a freakin' medal or something.

 So, I finally get all the paper off, and the wet one breaks.  Screw you wet one... we didn't want you anyway.  I nimbly attempt to line four more Pez up in my fingers, then attempt to open the belly fully, at which point, the four in my fingers fall, and the already placed Pez decide to jump ship, and go all caddywhampus on me.  I dump the whole thing out, and at this point, I decide to take a deep breath.  Not because the Pez are causing a panic attack.  Rather, because Charlie has just finished his dinner, and is headed for the Pez bag.  My life sucks and I need professional help because the stress of finishing the job at hand seems more overwhelming than sticking my hand up an elephant's backside.  I actually thought of about 4 other horrific/bile things that I would have rather done than load two Pez dispensers.  I am not right.  Don't judge.

The blog in which I share my latest Pinterest inspired craft.

1 Dowel=(4) 12" wands

Each eye screw package was $1.18 and had 8 eye screws

I had the ribbon, and figured it I kept it short, it wouldn't knot.  I was right ;o)  Honestly, I get tired of saying that some days.

So, it only costs about 25 cents for each dowel piece of a wand, and about 15 cents for the eye screw, so we are talking about 40 cents total, plus some satin ribbon.  No brainer.  Shay loves hers, and will paint it as soon as she is ready to.  I will make Charlie a magic wand and hopefully can have him decorate his with glow in the dark stickers or something to make it cool.  (Probably not going to attach ribbon though.  Sorry.  

I asked the gentleman at Home Depot to cut the dowel into the four pieces, and when I got home, I used my scissors to trim up the rough ends.  Then, I applied gentle pressure as I screwed the eye screw into the center of one end of dowel.  Really, that easy and took about 20 seconds to make it.  Okay, tying the ribbon took about a minute.  It will make a fun craft at a birthday party, or for a rainy day.  Shay and Charlie are way into checking out gymnastics and found rhythmic gymnastics on Youtube, and the wand made for a great substitute. I'd have to say, I was contemplating going with PVC pipe for this project, but glad I found the dowel.  Although, the PVC pipe spray painted black might make for a better magic wand.  Hmmmmm....

The blog in which I discuss the insanity that is Box Top for Education

First off, I'd like to start by saying how amazing our PTA is at our elementary school.  When I dreamed of the day that my children would be attending primary school, I dreamed of being involved in the PTA, maybe, even volunteering to be a president.  See, I'm always a little delusional, seeing as I already had myself pegged as the number one person in an organization that for years has prided itself on relating and fostering healthy relationships between the parents, teachers and students, while promoting financial help in order for the school to continue to aide the education process.  While there has never been a more dire time for financial help in our public school systems, I have recognized that since I don't know how to play nicely with others, nor do I know how to balance a check book, perhaps I might not be best suited to head the PTA.  So, I throw money at them.  Not much.  We don't have much.

In fact, they weren't so thrilled at the last round of money we threw at them, seeing as it was coins, and apparently, coins hurt.  Whatever.  It's all I had for that "Duck for a Buck" they are doing each Friday morning as the migits get off the bus.  The little rubber duckies are all hanging out chill and waiting to be picked.  All you need to do is send in a buck, and the proceeds will go to the PTA where they have already allocated the funds for relevant projects or purchases to the school.  I was totally able to support this fundraising idea, however, that day, all I could scrounge was some coins.  Not even all quarters.  Dang it.  I know that when bus loads of elementary students are headed your direction, all you want to do is open an envelope and count by tens, and sometimes, fives, to make up two dollars in coins.  (I have two children.)  Sorry Duck for a Buck volunteer!  But we just love Huey and Duey as they cowboy and police our bathtub, I mean, collect mold.

So, we attended a back to school bash that the PTA put together for no charge.  In fact, if you were a paid PTA member, you got a free hot dog!  They offered free snow cones to all, and did sell, for a nominal fee, drinks and chips.  The hair painting, tattoos, cake walk, bouncers, carnival style games, dunk tank, etc., were all free!  (We all donated to the cake walk, but that was super inexpensive to send in a box of Little Debbie.) While at the bash, the families were invited to learn about the many opportunities that the school offers to get involved in the many diverse areas of need.  I signed up for the library book shelving again, as well as a new assignment, called "Worker Bees."  I will be contacted to help with things like other events like the back to school bash, Bingo Night, working for the teachers outside of the classroom to do laminating, cutting, etc.  I'm in for all that.

Here's the one table, that totally got me.  Box Tops for Education.  This lovely lady, Michelle, who I had met last year, was sitting at this table, explaining how easy this program works.  Here's the explanation.  You clip the little coupon like symbol on consumable items you purchase that participate in the Box Top for Education program, and turn them into the school, and for each symbol redeemed, the school will get ten cents.  Well, in a school as large as ours, that will certainly add up, and the technology our school is employing will certainly benefit from such a program, and all it takes is us parents to stop, clip, and turn in.  Oh, wait.  Here's where things get all screwy.

First, once you start clipping, you will see that they are all different sizes, and only certain brands have them.  I purchase about 50% generic brand, therefore, I have less to search out.  Then, they are not all on cardboard packages.  I actually found some of those suckers on plastic packaging that I get when I buy my Scott Soft toilet paper.  Not the plain you fools.  Of course I buy the nice stuff. Yes.  It makes a difference.  It is so luxurious, I wrapped a roll and gave it to Lisa for Christmas last year.  Just one roll.  I didn't want to be decadent or make her feel bad if she didn't have a gift for me.  It was just one of those thoughtful gifts.  Like, next time she poos, she would think of me and what a "crappy" gift giver I am.  No, really.  I gave her a box of See's chocolates as well, since she mentioned those once.  But I thought the t.p. would be a practical partnered gift.  Plus, after I cut the plastic little label out, it really messed up the packaging, therefore, I could only give her the one roll.

Second, once you start, you become obsessed about it.  Well, when I say "you," I mean me, seeing as I become obsessed with anything that I do.  Like PVC pipe crafts.  Or matching doll and girl pillow case dresses.  Or growing miniature roses in my childhood bedroom in my early 20's.  Or making cake pops.   or.... Seriously, this list is too numerous to continue, however, if it's worth doing, it's worth doing until you never want to see it, taste it, or speak it again.  So, I am continuously checking, and cutting these little boogers from the most difficult of places.  It's kind of like when you make a Kraft Mac and Cheese, and on the box, it has a little corrugated area to push your finger and that is to be your opening, and really, that is the most difficult way to enter the box.  Lies, right?  Well, cutting these little symbols is akin to that.  But worse.

Third, you have to affix them to a piece of paper that has little boxes to attach each one in a nice little neat row, probably making the accounting of them easier.  Um, there is a flaw here.  They are not the same size, and often times, over lap into other boxes!  Then you are dealing with attaching plastic.  That needs like Gorilla glue or something, seeing as I glued the toilet paper roll ones a plethora of times in order to get it to properly "adhere."  I considered using deer semen, as that seemed to be the only type of fixative that I had not tried.  This is turning out to be very expensive, time consuming, and anxiety ridden seeing as I could have simply attached them to a white piece of paper and put as many as I could have on there seeing as 1. it would have saved a freakin' tree that my son is so attached to, and 2. I would have stayed within the lines since there wouldn't have been any.  Michelle, I'm calling you, and the only question you can answer is, "How do I get a permanent supply of medication while I help out my PTA or is there a OCD friendly version of this Box Top nonsense?  Poor Michelle.  G-d love her. I think I'll stick to Duck for a Buck for the remainder of the year.

You see the angst I must have? 

Poor Michelle.  There will be a special place in heaven for her.  And for the bastard that decided to share the wealth if only us parents would suffer in silence for the sake of our offspring.

The blog in which I complain about understanding Autism.

Today was a day of autism and adventures with it.  At some point, my daughter had her fill of Daddy's autism, and was crying to Grandpa that Daddy was not talking nicely to her.  Well, that might be true, as Daddy sometimes doesn't speak appropriately, and most of that time, is clueless of how that might affect those around him.  So, by dinner, she had taken as much as she could take, and was back to being teary, since it was a combination of Daddy not knowing how to communicate with a child and a child being over tired from a long weekend at the cabin.  While Geoff has come a LONG way in his journey with autism, he still loses himself and his ability to relate, on occasion.  Geoff was diagnosed only a few years ago, during our separation.  He has handled the diagnosis, while later in life, with grace since he desires to make our life work, and in doing so, sharing the struggles with our son, who acts very much as Geoff does.  Did I just confuse you?

Charlie has had a few rough days.  He is incredibly sensitive, and yet, not to others.  His selfishness is overwhelming at times, and I know that with enough appropriate models and therapy, he will slowly begin to develop.  Yesterday, it was jumping out of Grandpa's still moving car and Grandpa, after having dealt with this a few times in the past two days with him, finally got very direct in hopes that Charlie's safety would not be compromised.  However, his autism was compromised, and is sensitivity had taken a beating, and in his head, Grandpa was mad at him.  He was devastated.  He cried, he ran and hid, and it took at least thirty minutes, if not more, to pull him back to some sense of normalcy.  That's all relevant, obviously.  

I am a very strict parent, however, I still have struggles with Charlie and listening.  I will tell him to do something, and he doesn't do it.  However, I will only say to do something one time, and then if you chose to not listen, that means you have chosen to join me in the bathroom.  I'm not a fan of it, but I refuse to say something more than one time.  I have no open threats, and I NEVER ask if they want to go to the bathroom.  I will remind them that if they chose to make a bad choice, that they are really making a choice to join in me in the bathroom.  Tonight, during dinner, Charlie went to Grandpa's refrigerator to refill his water.  Of course, Grandpa told him 4 times to stop, and of course, Charlie didn't listen, and then it overflowed, and Grandpa is not a patient man, and went on, and on, and on, and on, and on about how many times he told him to stop and how he shouldn't be allowed to do it, and .......and... and.... and.... Yeah, so bad that even Grandma asked him how many more times he was going to say it.  That sent Charlie over the edge, and a man in his sixties actually said this to his almost seven year old autistic grandson- "Come on Charlie... You are going to have to take some criticism some time...."  Right, that is when mom and wife to autism decided she should have stuck to her gut instinct and said, "No, you moron.  You are not capable of properly loving a non autistic grown daughter, so it is obviously way beyond your abilities to understand a child who is not going to relate the way you want him to.  And before you decide to stop loving him too, you better stop talking to him this way."  Well, I didn't use those exact words, but man, I wish I could have gracefully said something to that effect.  Luckily, I have learned enough, and will protect as much as I feel necessary, and no, for the sake of my child, this man will never have my son in his presence without me close by.

So, while I might be over protective, there are times when child protective services might need to be on standby when I am the fully responsible adult, making decisions for my children.  Like after that frustrating dinner where Grandpa messed up royally, and my husband, oblivious to what is happening around him, and all too ready to be the merry moron to suck up to my father,  and the talk of dessert came up.  We had a fire going last night in the fire pit and made s'mores.  That was the suggestion, and I mentioned that if we did that again, that I would have to wash Shay's hair again, and we are out of the good conditioner here, so that would be a little more involved and she was not happy with that idea.  So, I came up with a plastic bag around her hair.  After doing this, which I thought was genius, I realized that not everyone might appreciate it's creativity, however, I didn't let her out of my sight, and explained that I was rubber banding the excess so that it might not go over her eyes, nose or mouth.  Don't judge.  Smoke smelling hair is nasty.

The blog in which I beg for your support because I love to blog.

Did you notice this little caption in the sidebar?  If you like this blog, would you please vote each day when you read the blog by clicking on it?  I am allowed to beg, plead, but not offer an incentive for votes on my blog.  So, while I will not offer a give away, I can promise that I will be able to continue to blog and one day, I might be able to do giveaways, but first, you guys need to vote each day, and spread the word!  Thanks friends!

And to all of you who comment, email, or Facebook message me on my blog attempts, I really value and appreciate you.  Thanks for allowing me to make you think, smile, question how kooky I am, and to wonder how I function without medication.  Vote, and do it often!  Share us on your Facebook or other social media that I am forbidding myself from getting tangled in.

The blog in which you get a craft and a recap.

I have never been a political person, but after watching a Youtube video of Clint Eastwood at the Republican Convention, it made me appreciate politics, even if for just that moment in time.  The rest of it.. meh.

My son is on day two of gas that creates a mess in his underwear.  Pull ups have been employed for the rest of the day.

The queen size bed Geoff and I shared last night felt like a we were sleeping on a bed the size of match box since we have become accustomed to sleeping on the king sized bed since last winter.  It was incredibly firm, and that is actually better for our backs, however, no one told my back that, so I was sore, but I got a really fantastically deep massage upon waking.  Thank you babe!

My three day headache is totally gone!  (I called "uncle" and took a narcotic right before going to sleep, and I woke up without head pain.  Praise G-d.

That is the recap, and now to finish our Sunday Funday with Grandpa playing his drums and with trains in the basement with the migits, and the rest of us chillin' with the mountains in the background.  Life is good.

I found a Pinterest inspired craft that I can't wait to do.  I will post it here, however, I am new to crediting appropriately, and I feel like someone should teach me the ways.  (hint hint other bloggers who know how to stay out of legal woes and who appreciate sharing sources for the right reasons.)

Okay, here you go... I hope I did this correctly, as honestly, I think it is genius, and super inexpensive, as well as the potential for variations is great.  I will have girls paint, sticker, add little bells or attach assorted embellishments that we can find in the arts and crafts closet.

Source: ribbonwands.blogspot.com via Marie on Pinterest

The blog in which you be the judge. Am I overprotective?

We had this weekend planned from the moment my father caved and said that our Brody was allowed to come with us to the cabin.  We have never had a dog sitter for him, and honestly, we couldn't afford to board him.  We have come close to asking for help from friends, but never followed through with it.  So, this was the first long weekend, and while the kids had a furlough day yesterday, Friday, Geoff had to work all day, so we were either to leave for the cabin last night, or this morning.  Mom begged to take the migits with them yesterday afternoon, so at 3:PM, they were on their way.  I went and picked up Charlie's trampoline since it came in, and yes, in case I forgot to share with you guys, yes, we were approved to install it, through the home owners association, three days after I mailed the requested information on it.  I was feeling sorta' yuck with a headache I have had for a few days now, so since Geoff had to work late, again, and I was feeling "blah," we had subs for dinner and literally got into bed and was asleep within the hour.  I woke up in the middle of the night for a while, and then finally, at 8:AM, and turned to see Geoff beside me, eyes fixed wide open, and staring straight up at the ceiling.    I watched for a few seconds, and didn't see him blinking or his chest rising, so here's what flew through my head.  

1.  Is he dead?

2.  Glad the kids aren't here if he is dead. 

3.  I should stop thinking these thoughts and ask if he's alive.  

So, I did.  And he turned to me, and that's how the day started.  With a husband that was alive.  This is going to be a great day! 

Later, as I was drying off from the quickest shower in recent history, as my thought was, "The sooner we get there,  I might be able to save them from whatever danger Grandma might threaten them with... like, say, making them a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread, or using a jelly with high fructose corn syrup.  So, I mentioned my thoughts to Geoff regarding the whole I thought he might have been dead episode, and he laughed and said, "We all have our quirks."  And all I could think was, "No, I'm all shades of messed up, and you at least have a diagnosis."  Poor, sweet man I married.  I love him so much.   

I noticed that I had a text from my mom from only ten minutes earlier.  It said, "Hope you had a good eve."  I responded, "Just up, rough night, kids up?"

Mom-Why rough night?  Yes, all up.  Breakfast done, vitamins and powder for Charlie is done. Kids happy, as are we."

Great.  Oh, wait. What?  Powder done?  Oh holy hell... I hope she didn't... uh, yep, she did.  See, Charlie has to have Miralax mixed into his drink every morning in order that he might have a regular bowel movement each day.  I immediately got that text, and called. You didn't give ALL that to him, did you?????  YEP.  She did.   However, I did not label the powder, and while it WAS Miralax, it was about 4 days worth of it since I just figured I would use it the entire time we were there, with a little extra in case I spilled, etc. Wow.  This should be a fun few days.  After spazzing out on her, all the while, she being super calm about the fact that my son has just received the equivalent to "Colon Blow," and not the least bit aware of what this can do to him.  

That brings her to a diversionary topic... 

Mom- We all had a great breakfast.  

Me-Oh really?  What did you have?

Mom-Bacon, egg and cheese scramblers with yogurt.  

*At which point, I think she knew that was her second mistake.  

Me- Oh really?  What type of yogurt?  Those little ones in the cups that generally have artificial sweeteners?  You know I don't approve of that.  

Mom- Honestly, it might have had that.  I don't know.  I threw them away.  But I thought it was such a small amount.. how bad could it have been for them?

Me- Well, I never allow that.  Not even a sip of a drink with it.  Not those darn Ragin' Waters that Capri Sun is marketing with cancer causing agents.  Not a taste of Grandpa's sugar free jello with the chemical that confuses the endocrine system.  None.  Not ever.  Not even a little bit.  

Mom-  Oh well.  It's done.  

Okay, at which point, I told her I had to go so that I can get up to the cabin before she starts pimping out my children in order to teach the value of money and starts asking the kids to light fireworks themselves to learn the dangers involved with explosives.  I think she heard me.  At which point, I hung up, and explained to Geoff that years of attempting to keep our children as clean fed as possible was ruined in a matter of 14 hours, with at least half of that time in bed.  So, off we went.

I have issues, and you all know that.  Driving more than thirty minutes out of my home area causes anxiety.  I know, it's weird.  However, the cabin is just about two hours away, so I had already gotten the scoop on the gas prices from mom calling every town they hit saying the prices went down as they went further north.  I started with about a half a tank, and 100 miles later, I was just a smidge lower on my gauge.  I thought, "I will go as far as I can before I panic about my gas, which I know is yet another anxiety inducer."  Well, it was like a freakin' modern day miracle, since the gas seemed to go longer than ever before!  Usually, the trip drops me almost half a tank!  WOW!  That was awesome. 

When we were about 20 minutes south of my parents cabin, Brody tossed his cookies, but because we had not fed him breakfast, and had given him three Dramamine, he only vomited a little, and Geoff had some cat like reflexes going, and caught it in a bag after he shoved his face in it.  (The dogs face, not Geoff's face.  But you knew that, right?)  So, no harm done, and we get to the town and find that the Ingles has its' own gas station, a new addition this past summer, AND a Starbucks!  I am giddy with myself.  Not sure why.  Seeing as we have at least two Starbucks near my home and I have only been to each of them once or twice.  However, a Frappachino sounds perfect.  For Charlie.  Seeing as we have already ruined his body with artificial sweeteners and colon blow.  (We will not mention the copious amounts of s'mores ingredients I allowed him to ingest after dinner tonight while sitting around the fire pit.)  

So far, I think we are having a good time.  If by "having a good time" means over medicating a grandson with laxative, giving children artificial sweeteners, a minute amount of pukage, the addition of a local Starbucks and cheap gas, no anxiety on the two hour drive, a mid afternoon nap, grilled steaks for dinner, s'mores for dessert, and the viewing of bats and hummingbirds.  That was just our first full day.  ;o)  Happy Labor Day weekend!  Be safe!  (And by safe, I mean- don't let Grandma be alone with the migits for too long.)

PS  So that my mom doesn't develop a complex... I love her, and honestly, I would never leave my children with ANYONE, besides them.  My parents love my children as much as any one could love two quirky little migits, and respect the parenting that Geoff and I implement.  They children are having a blast, and for that, I will let the colon blow, and all the other issues to slide.