The blog in which I love me some boy migit.

It must be love.  I mean, what else would you call it that motivates me to do what I do for that child?  If you have a child with special needs, you will know what I am talking about.  If you don't, let me share with you.  This might enlighten, frighten, or forever scar you.  Or, it might become the birth control some of you need.  Whatever it does, it is something that I have had to constantly challenge, or amend, or placate, in order to get my boy child to the place he is today.

I.E.P.  They tell me it is an acronym for individualized education plan. I have my own version.  Incredibly and Exceedingly Paralyzing (to the parent that has to attend and work on them.)  I generally begin with an eye twitch a few days before the meeting, then I move on to show greater levels of anxiety like over eating and researching ways to home school an autistic child.  Each time, I feel horrible, and realize that I am not equipped to home school, or to have that much sugar in me at any given time.  Therefore, I attend the meetings.  Geoff has never come with me, however, early on, I almost hired an advocate.  That was while he was in preschool, and that yahoo didn't see his needs, nor did she recognize that she was ineffective and unnecessary.  And when she argued with me, I dug my heals in, and can't be more grateful that G-d gave me the ability to make a fool of myself for the sake of my child.

We had Charlie diagnosed at two years old, three months.  He was diagnosed with autism, sensory integration dysfunction, as well as speech delay.  I believed that I could heal him.  I did- to this point.  While he will always be Charlie, quirky and all, he is not what he was.  He no longer spins in circles.  He is no longer mute.  He learned how to play with children.  He is a loving, happy, at times, confident child.  I quit my job, and we threw every bit of money we had, plus some we didn't, at early intervention, therapies that included biomedical treatments to speech, occupational and ABA.  I prayed hard, and often, for direction, and always went with my gut instinct for him.  I did extreme therapies, to simple modifications, and at seven years old, I can tell you, without a doubt, he would not be where he is now, if it were not for my early interventions.

So, bring us to today, and yet another meeting to discuss his educational progress and needs.  The team consists of the parent(s), teacher, special education teacher, speech and occupation therapists and the facilitator.  While I correspond often, and prolifically with the educators when I have concerns, this meeting was not a high stress meeting for me, since I had recently addressed major concerns with the teachers I needed to.  While in there, we did address some goals that needed amending, and future strategies that might facilitate learning for Charlie.  At some point, we discussed Charlie's need for movement and how we can link that to memorization, and the O.T. commented on how that might really help when it comes time to memorize the multiplication tables.  At which point, I had verbal diarrhea and and audible shutter as I told her that the mere mention of that made me open a bottle of wine, in my head.  Laughter from the peanut gallery.  I was not kidding, PEEPS!  I have honestly worked so hard at times to simply teach the CVC reading, and those freakin' "tricks" that don't ever apply to everything in the English language.  Luckily, he is doing well in math at this time.

So, what I really want you to know about raising a child who has challenges, is that each accomplishment is an accomplishment for the parents as well, and whether you have a child with special needs or not, you have to advocate for them.  You have to accept responsibility for raising them, educating them, and loving them so completely, that you discipline and love equally.  I love my son today, and every day.  If not, I might have allowed my fifth day of a headache to allow me to cancel and stay in bed a bit longer.  Rather, I found my needs were trumped by love for my Chazman.  I love you boy migit!  You make me so proud to be your mom- at times, cheerleader, friend, or confidant.  Mostly, I love to see you happy, successful and loving.  I will support you in the best way I know how to, FOREVER!  

Blogher roll call-- HERE for love!

The blog in which I struggle to find the love.

I went from having a panic attack to having a bad panic attack.  That was my day.  Actually, that started yesterday morning, since I follow the weather like some people follow the stock market.  And by "some people," I mean the obsessive compulsive ones like my father.  While I freely admit to my craziness, "others" may not recognize their own issues.  I am here to point those flaws out- and tell you, I KNOW WHERE I GET THEM FROM.  (He hasn't spoken to me in over ten years, but I still appreciate his stubbornness, and the fact that he talks to himself like the Swedish Chef when he cooks.  Gotta' love crazy.  It run in our family.  Well, technically, nobody in my family runs, hence our shapes.  I have chosen to get into shape.  The shape I have chosen is an oompa loompa.  Nailed it!

Tonight, I am having a hard time getting into this month's assignment.  (Remember? The theme is "love.")  However, today, I can tell you that I love my neighbor for helping me get my son from school this afternoon while I was hiding from possible tornadic activity, down in Marietta.  I also love my mom for still living in a house with a basement, only about 20-25 minutes away.  And lastly, I love that I saw no less than five other moms panicking today during the storms.  I felt a little less weird.  And honestly, isn't that all we ever want at the end of the day?

Jenn- I honestly can not tell you how much I appreciate you going to get my migit today.  I owe you- big time! And also to Stacy for helping with your migits while you grabbed mine. To friends who act like family, and to family that.... well.  They suck.  You know who you are.  (There.  How's that for a loving post?)  Nailed it.

The blog in which Mom is hanging out with me today and we have a sexy photo shoot.

My mom bought me a gift a few weeks ago.  It was a footed pajama outfit, and honestly, I love it.  Geoff expressed an honest desire for something like it, so Mom found this.  I had to try it on for him.  He is one lucky guy.  At least, that is what I try to make him believe.

Oh my.  The cleavage.  Hot.   

That is one, sexy, confident, Oompa Loompa of the year. 

Naughty.

Do I look more like a Smurf in need or a just a perfectly formed Oompa Loompa?  

I "sexted" this to Geoff.  (It was my first attempt in this craze. )  Nailed it.  

Of course, needed to complete this collection with a "duck lips."  You.are.welcome.

I really will try to stick to the blogher.com theme this month; but I think I might be a little off the mark on this one.  

The blog in which I am hot and bothered.

I don't always follow the Blogher.com curriculum, but this month, it seems to be flowing effortlessly.  February's theme is love and sex.  How original, right?  Well, here it goes!

My newest craze is tea.  I drink 72-100 ounces of tea each day.  It is the craziest and easiest way to aide my weight loss, so I boil a huge pot of water each morning, add one green tea and one regular tea bag, and let it sit all day as I ladel cupfuls from it.  Monday's I spend the day at the school volunteering.  Monday are packed from the time I get there at 9:30 AM until I leave at 1:15 PM.  I work the library, then head to lunch with both migits, and finally, I work the computer lab for Shay's class.  I also needed to work in my visit to the "Y," so I decided it might be best to not drink anything until I got home from all that.  The drinking literally makes me hang out near a toilet all day, since my bladder is no larger than a ping pong ball.

I walk through the door, and begin chugging.  I had to take Chaz to speech therapy today, and from the time I emptied my bladder and got in the car, to the time I got to speech, about 9 minutes later, I HAD to go.  I rushed in, took care of business, and washed my hands.  It was at that moment that I realized that I had a flash back.  No, not from my drug days.  Rather, from the days right before those.  His name was Max.  Max was amazing. And sad.  He had a horrific home life, and worked a lot.  I was 15, and he was either 16 or 17.  I worked a fair amount, and we got to see each other at work- McDonalds. He was attractive enough that I remember my mom even commented on his looks.  Woof.  Hot.  He wore a ton of cologne.  It was 1993.  Guess what he was wearing--- Drakkar Noir.  And why does this matter?  The hand soap.  It smelled just like that!  I thought back to him coming over.  I blushed thinking of what we did up in my bedroom.  I can't believe my parents allowed me to have boys over.  In my room.  And that some how, the door was closed.

My best friend in highschool was a boy.  When he came and we closed the door, it was to smoke.  My folks were okay with him.  But this hottie?  What were they thinking???  (In all fairness, I doubt they knew the door was closed.)  They were downstairs.  And we.. well... we were not.  We were just down.  Ahhh... the memories.

And that was my first time to turn a boy down.  Really.  Not that I did that often, but I did that day.  I was so in awe of his attractiveness, and that he would want anything to do with me.  Ultimately, I did a horrible thing.  I am ashamed to admit it, but I will.  I went to his house, took a box of love letters he had written to me, and then, lit them on fire with gasoline on his front yard.  I know his step dad beat the crap out of him for that.  Within a year, I heard that he was living in a trailer with his pregnant fiance.  He dropped out of school, and I never saw him again.

There were other boys I "dated" in high school.  Like, the grill cook at Ernie's Steakhouse.  I was 18, and he was in his twenties.  He lived in a house with some room mates, and had converted a pop up camper thing.  He wanted me to go "star gazing" in the roof with him one night.  Somehow, I got out of there, however, as I was driving home on I-75, I got followed by some drunk boys that were running me off the rode.  All the cars parted, and I was just trying to keep my 1988 Suzuki Samari on the highway, when out of nowhere, I see the cop's lights taking them off the road and I got home safely.  I was shaking.  Cell phones were not as prevalent at that time.  I can only say that I am grateful for the policeman that night.

Once, I awoke in the bed of another friend.  I was not fully clothed, and don't know what happened, but I know drugs were involved.  *Kids- drugs are bad.  Just say, "No thanks."  Remember- I raised you with manners.  I didn't have a car at that point, and the only person who had a car, was my best friend's friend.  I snuck downstairs to a phone, called him, and the two of them showed up to get me home.  I don't remember everything, but I do remember that the creep got a little "roughed" up.  We were in theater class together for another couple of weeks, and he "acted" like he was a gentlemen.  He really should have gotten an award for that job.

Ryan.  Lord love a duck.  He was overwhelming.  He couldn't have been in greater puppy love if he tried.  He was too good to me.  My parents loved him.  He just had this need to touch me.  Hug me.  He would stand behind me and hug on me, and that is how he chose to stand, or walk.  It was like an act from Cirque du Solei just to get a drink.  I felt like I was crab walking with two legs that we paralyzed. He just wanted to hug.  After I treated him crappy and dropped him, I wanted to call his mom and ask him why he wasn't hugged enough as a child.  Here's the kicker to Ryan-  he had this pewter sword thing on a necklace he gave me to wear.  One night, he was hugging me, (shocker, right?) and HE broke it in the embrace!  I didn't have the heart to tell him it broke, so I super glued it.  Over the course of the few months of this breaking/fixing cycle, when we broke up, I gave it back to him.  Poor thing. He was furious that I had broken it.  For the record, he was the only person that ever called me a racial slur- to my face.  Today, I am sad that I was that Jew that spawned that anger.  I could have treated him better.  But I was smothered, young, and mad that I had to apologize for the necklace that he had broken himself.  I hope he is happy and in a healthy relationship where he does not need to hug a girl to asphyxiation.  Or, that he found the other half of his crab shell.  Either way.  I truly hope for his happiness.

And then, there's the boy I didn't date.  He was my favorite.  He was a true friend.  When I wanted to be silly, which let's be honest, is ALWAYS, he was silly with me.  When I wanted to paint my room purple and then paint a mural of Pink Floyd's "The Wall" cover art and infuse my Grateful Dead side, he was right there with me.  From the worst acid trip of my life, to Clearly Canadian flavored water, he was my partner in crime, until I decided drugs and selfishness were more my thing than being a friend was.  The truth is, his friendship taught me so much.  The only relationship in my life that has been treasured more has been my love with Geoff.

I have told Geoff that I was a horrible teenager.  He knows.  My mother shares those stories freely.  From running away and drugs, to lying, hurting everyone near me, to today, I realize that I can not apologize for the person I was, but I can make choices now to be a better me.  And from all those "loves," I had at some point early on, I learned how to love the right way, and to share it with the greatest gift G-d has even blessed me with, Geoff.  Babe, for knowing me, and loving me in spite of it- you make me beautiful.  Thanks for supporting my newest endeavors, and for making believe I can do this.  I love you face.

The blog in which I am confused about my sexuality.

Does this make me gay?  All week I was so confident in my sexuality.  Until, mow.  I was watching "How I Met Your Mother," and Geoff and I are sitting in bed and I look over to him and worry if he knows what I am thinking.  He does not.  However, he just said, out loud, "There is nothing wrong about being attracted to a gay man."  Well, not it you are single, a man, and gay.  However, last time I checked, I was none of those.  And without a miracle....

So, I am thinking, how the heck did I start crushing on a gay man, playing it straight, and a WOMANIZER at that?  Well, let's look at the facts.  

Fact- He has a hot bod.  Exhibit A.  See the 100th episode on Netflix.  

Fact- He wears a suit.  (That is akin to a visual orgasm for my eyes.)  

Fact- Geoff thinks he's hot.  (He has impeccable taste when it comes to either sex.  We are both attracted to the same types.)  

Fact- He wears a suit!  (I know, I know.  But really, that should have be sufficient enough to see where my crush began.)  

So, does that make me a lesbian?  I might need to tell you a bit more about this past week. 

First,  I went to work out at the YMCA a few days, and once, there were two adorable young firemen working out.  Those are lovely workouts.  (The ones where they are eye candy for this morbidly-obese- stay-at-home mother of two.)  That day, I was straight confident.  

Next day, I was flipping the channels at the YMCA, and happen upon Ellen.  I love her show.  So, I am watching, and a hard core, manly, lesbian comes in front of me to work out.  I was staring at her as she got on, but not because I was attracted.  No.  I truly love the boys, but I had to figure out if she was going to tun on Ellen.  However, I think she caught a glimpse of me checking her out.  So, then, it was holy awkward, and now, I am sitting here smiling because I happen to know what she turned on to watch, and you don't.  But you might know... I am not gay.  But I am so attracted to a gay man playing the part of a straight man that mistreats women. Yeah, once I finally do set up my first psychologist/psychiatry appointment, I am sure we will address this. 

PS I also had a thing for "Mr. Grey," so I guess there is no surprise there.  

The blog in which I forgot this simple recipe for P.B. Cookies.

And before I forget... Oops.  I forgot.  I was supposed to add this to the last blog post.  Better late than never.  The winter puts me in a baking mood.  And making baked goods from scratch makes me feel a little better since I know exactly what ingredients make up the item, and never do I use dyes or high fructose corn syrup.  Shay and Charlie really enjoy baking with me, and it allows the kids to really use practical applications for math.  WIN ALL THE WAY!  (Plus, I get to have really interesting conversations with Shay while we bake together, and that chick just cracks me up.  Think Betty White sharp with a hint of Lucille Ball goofy.  She is all that and a bag of chips.)

Made that many, that size.  About 16.  I had the first sheet and then four more to bake. They are a big enough size that one will be dessert for each of us.  I did not use Stevia today because I didn't have enough, but if you try it, can you let me know how it works?  

So, today, I wanted to have some peanut butter cookies for dessert this week, and decided on the three ingredient recipe we have done before. I added a fourth ingredient, and it is amazing!  One of everything.  One cup peanut butter.  One cup sugar.  One egg.  (I microwave the peanut butter so that it  is totally softened.  It poured out of the measuring cup for us.)  I had taken a small bowl and scrambled the egg, and then let Shay do the rest.  She added the sugar, mixed that, and then the peanut butter.  I gave it a final swirl with the fork, found and added a handful of white chocolate chips, then I balled the dough, and then let her smash it down with a fork.  She wanted to get creative, so I gave her a toothpick and let her draw on the tops of a few of the dough smashed cookies prior to cooking them.  Bake at 350 degrees F. for 6-12 minutes.  I can't give you a real number here, since my oven doesn't work, and I have to bake things longer, different temps, etc.  Don't move off the cookie sheet onto the cooling rack for a few minutes since it is super crumbly if it is not set enough.  You will know when.  I greased the sheet.  Not sure if that is necessary though.  YUM!

The blog in which Geoff and I get a rare date night.

Had the best date night in years with my uhhhhmaaaazing hubby last night.  The YMCA offers free child care drop off twice a month that each family may access once a month.  We have done this only once before, and we were both with a stomach bug that evening, so we dropped them off and then headed home to sit alone in a bathroom until we "rock,paper, scissored" to figure out who had to pick them up.  Then, last month, Shay was sick, so we cancelled.  Yesterday, we were totally ready.  

Every one healthy, gorgeous weather, and a little plan for a nice romantic evening at home.  I had made some amazing Crock Pot potato soup a month ago, and froze two serving portions for Geoff and I to enjoy at a later date.  Last night was that date, and it thawed so well.  I made some fresh beer bread, from scratch, and crumbled some cooked bacon and shredded cheese on top of the soup, and let me tell you... Oh my.  Geoff is an amazing husband, but I never really saw him as romantic- until....  he set the table with some of our electronic tea lights, turned on soft lights, and started playing Frank Sinatra (one of my fav's) in the background.  I had found a his and her "Q & A" on Pinterest, and while we slowly enjoyed our meal, we went through the list.  After dinner, I had a leftover dessert bar we had made on Friday night.  Geoff had one later, and let me tell you- they taste even better from the fridge.  I warmed mine up, but he had be try his, and it tastes more like cookie dough.  Woof.  So good.  Then, we played dominoes.  We used to play games all the time when we were first married.  The, he turned the fireplace on, maneuvered our round chair so that it was facing the fire, and we listened to Michael Buble', chatted, an stared forever out the window at the gorgeous clear night and huge moon over head.    I had no idea he had such a nice collection of music on his iPod!  It was amazing. 

The homemade brownie mixes I prepped are so handy for events like last night.  I bring those for the staff at the YMCA who are working the Parent Night Out events.  I need to suck up so that my kids are liked by the staff.    I need to get over myself.  They are good enough to be likable all on their own. ;o)  But who doesn't like homemade brownies?    The beer bread was a new Pinterest recipe I found.  I would say- this is my third different beer bread attempt over the years, and my favorite, to date.  Crazy simple, but I think the two tablespoons of honey made the difference.  Geoff thinks it was my addition to salted vs. the unsalted butter that I coated the pan with.  (I usually use a spray oil.)  

My flash is insanely bright in that soft lighting we had.  Sorry for blinding you, Babe!  

So gorg.  

We picked up the kids, came home, fell asleep, and awoke to him snoring at three in the morning, and it was then that he realized that he was sick- AGAIN.  He stopped his antibiotic a few days short of the ten day course of therapy, and let me tell you- I am not a happy camper about his choice.  GRRRR.  He is back on it, and praying he recovers quickly from this. 

In the mean time, I am thrilled to share a new cost saving tip for meds.  Chaz has been taking pills for a few years now, however, not until this fall did I realize that we could find some over the counter meds that he can take in a halved version instead of the pricier children's liquids.  He has had a night time cough with congestion during the day for four days now.  After his displeasure with the liquid generic Mucinex and Sudafed PE formulas, I went and asked the pharmacist if I could try the generic pills for adults, and he said I could.  WHEW!  The money savings on this one is astronomical!  I am giving him half of both pills, and the generic Mucinex was even scored for me.  

SAVINGS!  YEA!