Depends on when you’re reading here. Early morning, I’m still in Colorado. Flat, surface of the moon, northeast Colorado. Mid-day I’m in Nebraska, land of corn…cow…corn…cow…red truck…another red truck…do they sell anything other than red trucks?…corn…cow… Evening I’m in Iowa, home of my loving husband.

Vroom vroom…

I had several topics in mind for today. And then Princess half-croaked on me. She’s back home, grumpy about the overnight stay with the Guru, but resting comfortably. Tom and I need to talk about what to do next, either replace her or fix the hard drive and replace her this spring. As much as I hate to pour more money into this miserable piece of work, I also hate to buy a computer right before Christmas.

In the meantime, my brain fried. Two weeks of single parenting, delivering Cub Scout popcorn, book reports and homework, being out nearly every night last week…they all conspired to drive me batty.

The time for a deep, well-thought out post passed at about 2:00 today, three hours before Princess was ready to be picked up. Now I’m slightly crazed, packing for tomorrow and catching up with all the work that didn’t get accomplished while Princess was hooked up to life support.

A better post tomorrow? Don’t count on it, I’ll be in the middle of Nebraska. I’ll be lucky to get a worse filler post than this one up.

Well, it didn’t take long. Just an extra ten days or so. Princess the PMSing Laptop is thisclose to being sold for parts, I just need to talk to my PC Guru again tomorrow afternoon to get the whole story. I finally got it and my EHD to my Guru yesterday, because they still weren’t talking. The EHD is fine, the OS hard drive is fine, the hard drive with all the files on it is toast. Not expecting that. I am so pissed I could spit nails and breathe fire. The computer is three years old and this will be the SECOND time I would need to replace that hard drive. I’ve already done both hard drives once, the DVD/CD tray, and the motherboard because the POS got so hot things melted. Yes, melted. Guru smelled smoke when he opened the case. Everything was still under warrantee then, so a PITA, but no prob.

Remember? Warrantee expired a week and a half ago. I did not renew.

We leave in 36 hours for several days in Iowa. I will be computerless, which means I will be frantically writing posts for NaBloPoMo in advance. I will not fail at that because of my POS laptop. Tom is on a business trip until tomorrow afternoon, I should be packing and prepping for the trip. Instead I’m writing, pricing out new Macs, and checking out the black market going rate for kidneys.

So! A poll!

Ahh…technology. Designed to make our lives easier and failing miserably.

Rah rah rah…sis boom bah!

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Dear nice PC Guru who has brought Princess the PMSing Laptop back from the dead several times:

I will sign a DNR if it means I get her back before I leave at o’dark thirty Monday morning. Please do not order parts. Please do not knock yourself out trying to figure out what is wrong. She is not recognizing my external hard drive and I just need that resolved. My EHD holds my entire iTunes library, and because it’s an EHD, Carbonite doesn’t back it up. I do realize that her extended warrantee ended last week and I’m on borrowed time, but please, no extended measures. I just need that POS back before I head to Iowa for a week.

Fantasizing over a MacBook Pro,

Jen

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Dear Facebook/real life friends who have found me here:

Hi! Welcome! Poke around awhile! Please leave comments, they’re like crack. Just be prepared that if you read here and I don’t know it and you mention to my face something you read, I will get a definite “deer in headlights” look as I desperately try to remember what the hell I wrote and dear God did I embarrass myself?

Feverishly wracking my brain,

Jen

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Dear Thanksgiving Week Off:

Please be gentle. Thank you.

Jen

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Dear sweet sons of mine:

On Monday we have a 14 hour drive through some of the most mind-numbing landscape outside of Wyoming. I will build you a Boy Cave  in the back of the MomVan. Please enter the Boy Cave and request nothing of me. You will have DVDs, Leapsters, books, food, and drink. There is nothing more you need. Bathroom breaks are every few hours and will be mandatory. I encourage naps. Lots of naps. Whining, complaining, and fighting may result in you hitchhiking the rest of the way. You’ve been warned.

P.S. Your computer’s keyboard sucks.

Love,

Mom

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Dear CERN:

You guys are super cool and I love the advanced research you do. That said, I just finished reading “Flashforward,” and have caught on Twitter that the LHC is up and running today. Please don’t blow us up, and if there’s any kind of seeing into the future going on this evening, I expect a happy ending. One where my oldest son is working over there with you.

Go, particles, GO!

Jen

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Dear husband:

I love you. I’m proud of you. You do great work.

Flowers. Just send flowers and I won’t want to wring your neck for needing travel so stinking much lately.

Loving peach roses,

Your schmoopie

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Dear Universe,

You suck for moving A’s very best friend in the whole wide world away this weekend. You’d damn well better make it up to him BUT GOOD or I’m coming after you.

Sharpening her claws,

One Pissed Off Mama Bear

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Dear readers:

Yeah, not as funny this week.

Le sigh,

Jen

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Have a great weekend!

Alert! Alert! There’s a national waffle shortage!!!! Yes, Kellogg’s warns that the Eggo waffle supply will be greatly depleted until next summer. NO WAFFLES?

Whatever shall we do? The beloved yellow boxes are flying off the shelves! Old Mother Hubbard will have nothing to feed her starving baybees!!!

Sigh.

Why is this getting so much press? They are frozen discs of precooked dough. In a pinch, they’re icy Frisbees. Here’s a suggestion. Get one of these:

Plus some of this:

Or, in my house, some of this:

Add a little of this:

And then stick a huge honkin’ batch of homemade waffles into one of these:

Voi-freaking-la! Frozen waffles! No need to be held hostage by the heartbreaking Eggo shortage! (Unless, of course, you’re a college student and can’t make your own waffles. But you shouldn’t have a toaster in your dorm room anyway for the Eggo’s, so just suck it up and go down to the cafeteria like we all had to. Your meal plan is 100% better than my was, so quit yer bitchin).

Sirup? You’re on your own.

You know how, in the winter, you’re outside playing in the snow on a sunny day and you gradually become accustomed to the sharp brightness? And then someone joins you, and they stumble around for awhile, snow blind, until they give up and go back inside? And you’re all, “What? It isn’t that bright out here! It’s fine, nothing to it, this is just how it is!” And they tell you, “Dude, you have any idea how bright it is out there? I don’t know how to tell you, but it’s really really blinding out there and boy, I don’t know how you do it.”

I need to remember this in relation to A’s giftedness.

It’s Gifted Week at the House of Chaos! Last night Tom and I had our weekly twice-exceptional parenting meeting (which we love), tonight I’m attending a presentation on the emotional well-being of gifted kids, then tomorrow night our last 2e meeting. All this unusual weeknight activity left us without a sitter for the boys, so I had to hunt around for a new one. A grandma in the area watches kids, she was available, she was hired. She even helped A with some of his homework; I should have offered her hazard pay.

We got home and when I asked how the boys were, she said they were fine…then hesitated.

“I helped A with his homework probably more than I should have (I assured her that was ok). But…(and she was having a hard time putting this into words)…he’s really bright, brilliant, probably smarter than me.” I could tell she was trying to say gifted without saying it, and I explained to her in 30 seconds or less what his situation was, with a side dish of 2e.

She had never met him before last night. I hear this so often from people who meet A for the first time and talk to him for longer than five minutes. He’s so bright! Yes, yes he is, and I forget that. I don’t see it anymore. It’s just who he is, and I don’t spend a lot of time with other kids his age other than volunteering in the classroom every other week. I no longer see the gift of giftedness, but only see the difficulties of twice-exceptionalities.

It’s been a hard few days with A and school, and I know it’s going to get much MUCH harder after Thanksgiving when his best friend is no longer there. I am so afraid of losing his spirit, and his thirst for learning is already starting to dry up. He is the smartest child I know, and I see him giving up that side of him because of school. Do this, not that. Here’s a page crammed full of math problems…go! Yup, writing is hard, we’ll make some accommodations for you, but you must copy this off the board (sorry the vision therapy hasn’t caught up yet to make this quick and easy for you) and if you don’t you must miss recess to catch up. Oh, and that busy work worksheet you didn’t finish? Take it home and complete it, please. Nevermind that you have the homework packet and a book report waiting for you there, as well as vision therapy and Cub Scouts and who needs downtime, anyway?

My heart breaks for him, and I know there are so many other families in the exact same boat. Our education system is not geared for outside the box thinkers, and outside the box thinkers are exactly what are needed in the outside world. I don’t know if I have it in me to homeschool him, but I can’t sacrifice his education for his schooling.

I know I’ll be reminded in the future of A’s giftedness, through the comments of others. They’re good to hear, because I do forget, or doubt, or ignore that part of him. I just don’t see it anymore, that’s simply how he is. But I hope to remember, through those comments, that there is a gifted person in there, buried beneath some of those challenges, and it’s my job to help him shine.

I have AAS, I’ve said it, it’s true. I first learned of this terminal and chronic condition many years ago from Theresa. I know I’m not the first, nor will I be the last, victim of this silent annoyance.

My name is Jen. I have Arctic Ass Syndrome.

My God, Jen! How terrible! And yet I am intrigued. What exactly is AAS? How do I know if I or a loved one suffer from this debilitating syndrome?

Allow me to provide you with a simple self-diagnostic quiz.

If you have burned out your car’s seat heater by leaving it on HIGH from October to May, you very likely have AAS. If you do not have such a heater in your car and weep for the very thought, you also very likely have AAS and need to get yourself one of these:

Heated seat cover for the car

If your spouse, significant other, or flavor of the day spoons up behind you in bed and instead of sweet nothings you hear, “Sweet Mother of All That’s Holy! Is that your ass?” followed by catapulting out of bed for more lower body layers and a protective wall of blankets, you may have AAS.

If, during a heat wave when people are dropping left and right, your back sweat delicate moisture drips down and freezes solid, you probably have AAS.

If you are slapped on the ass and the perpetrator’s hand ices over, you may very likely have AAS…and should probably search out a young priest and an old priest.

And finally, if at any point during the year you could conceivably keep a crate of freshly caught fish fresh simply by sitting on them, you indeed have AAS.

It’s a sad condition, one not understood except by those who are fellow sufferers. Members of this unenviable society avoid sexy thong underwear (miserable coverage, not terribly conducive to warmth), eschew hot baths because although steeping in hot water is wonderful the ass contact with the cold tub is not, and want nothing more than to no longer feel like they’re hauling a side of beef around in the trunk.

There is no cure. There is no (legal) treatment. Researchers are perplexed as to the cause, though I have my theories. I suspect that the wide load I’m hauling around plus the years of sitting on cold bleachers through high school and college marching/pep bands combined with freaky genetics and bad ’80s movies formed the perfect storm resulting in AAS.

So come out of the woodwork, my fellow sufferers. Join me in slapping ass on the fireplace glass for a few minutes of respite, let us gather as we stick heating pads down the back of our jeans, and let us invent new excuses to avoid going sledding with our children. Join me and stand tall, rising above those frozen cheeks, to proclaim with no shame,

“I have AAS.”

Oh, the OCMama saved me this Monday morning, by tagging me with this meme late last week. NaBloPoMo has been wonderful, and I appreciate the opportunity to improve my writing by doing it every day, but…dang, I’m starting to run a wee bit dry on topics. Then again, anytime I think that something pops up that is perfect to write about.

Rules:

1. Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 random and or weird things about yourself.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Alrighty, let’s play.

1. I can tell that winter is 100% here because my hands are dry, cracked, and bleeding. Who needs a meteorologist when you can just look at the bloody stumps at the ends of my arms?
2. Single moms are my heroes. I know they do it all because they have to, but damn…flying solo is exhausting.
3. I will totally not be offended if my husband Santa brings me a Dyson vacuum. Or any vacuum that works. Or hard flooring that doesn’t require a vacuum. Actually, Santa, bring me a Dyson vacuum, and I’ll make it worth your while…nudge, nudge, wink, wink…
4. It’s winter. My very best friend in the whole wide world right now is my electric blanket.
5. Our DVR has 9% free on a 100GB hard drive. It’s also making all sorts of grinding sounds. You’ll know it’s crashed when you hear me howl in anger and frustration that all the movies I’ve been meaning to watch are history. (Ah, just went through and culled the recordings; up to 26% free).
6. If J continues to run around the house with my camera and taking pictures of me in all my “before shower” glory, I will be sure to share certain pictures of him with his first girlfriend.
7. As many kids as have had strep in J’s classroom while I’ve been there volunteering, it’s a matter of time before I get hit. I hate being a strep magnet. Last time I had it, last spring, I also had the flu. I’d kinda like to avoid that combo again this winter.

Alrighty, gonna tag some new peeps:

1. Nancy at Away We Go
2. Miss E at Loving Your Gifted Child
3. JoAnn at The Casual Perfectionist
4. Laura at Wait, This Makes Me A Follower, Doesn’t It?
5. Melissa at Nikko
6. Corrie Howe at Just Because My Pickle Talks Doesn’t Make Me An Idiot
7. Alix at Casa Hice

I’ve been trying for several months to ensure Sunday is a Day of Rest Without Guilt. The Without Guilt part is important for me. I can certainly DO NOTHING on any given day, but it’s typically soured by the guilt of not doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I just wanted ONE DAY of rest, complete rest, where I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. Now, you may be thinking, you’re a Stay At Home Mom, you’re home all day, you only do what you want to do when you want to do it. And I’ll be thinking you’re a ignoramus of the highest order and perhaps you’d like to come walk in my Crocs for a few weeks and see how YOU like it.

My point is, we have speed of light lives here, and I simply wanted ONE DAY to maybe ratchet it down to maybe Mach 1. I mentioned this to some friends earlier this week, that I couldn’t remember the last time I just took a complete day and did nothing. Actually, that I did remember a Wednesday when I was a freshman in college and I sat and read a book all day. Tom just looked at me in awe and said, “You got a Wednesday?” Yeah, we’re that family. And the boys aren’t even in sports to make everything even crazier.

Tom is out of town right now, something I almost never post here, for a variety of reasons. He learned Tuesday afternoon that he was leaving Wednesday morning, gone until Monday night. Ordinarily I’d be fuming to the point of self-immolation, but if he hadn’t decided to go on this particular business trip I would have drugged him and dragged him off to the airport. So I’m very glad he’s in Indianapolis, just very annoyed that it means two business trips back to back right before Thanksgiving, and I’m flying solo.

What this means is that today is anything BUT a day of rest. It snowed last night (we’re still under a Winter Storm Warning), so I have the opportunity to exercise while I shovel several inches of wet and heavy snow. A has a book report due on Wednesday (someone, please save me from 3rd grade book reports. I’d rather eat glass.), so I get to be Bad Mom as I force him shove the book down his throat rant and scream and bang my head against the wall gently encourage him…and then we get to go onto the regular writing and math homework. Oh, and the vision therapy I keep putting off. The laundry has met behind closed doors and is planning a violent coup. Cub Scout popcorn is in (oh, further fun with the clueless Den Leader…went to her house to pick it all up yesterday and she wasn’t home. I felt NO GUILT in making her deliver it to me), and I get to sort it all and prep it for delivery…all $800+ of it (BTW, that’s a LOT of popcorn). I have to have Christmas shopping done before we leave for Thanksgiving so we can take that with us. I’m playing in a winter recital next month. A very difficult piece, one I would have played in grad school. I’m gonna end up pissing down my leg in front of God and the whole world if I don’t carve some time out to actually, you know, practice it. I think I may have to take it with me when we travel to Iowa; I can’t lose an entire week when I have an entire week of someone else watching my kids. I need to clean the house ’cause, yeah, yuck. Perhaps it not such a bad thing that the snow knocked out the satellite dish and I can’t watch the Broncos game in ten minutes (hey, DirecTv, I’ve loved you since we got you, but you’re now 2 for 2. I can’t keep losing satellite every time it snows).

Does all of this need to be done today? Lemme check…pretty much. The worst of it all? The book report, because I can’t just get him going and dash off to do a few other things, I have to sit rightthere and “help” him (aka, push-prod-cajole).

I’m convinced the Day of Rest is mythical, but I also got a unicorn this week, so who knows? Perhaps it will show itself in the future too.

Amazing how time can get away from you on a Saturday. THIS IS A PATHETIC PLACEHOLDER POST.

I’m watching the Bands of America Grand Nationals Marching Band Finals streaming online. With the boys. And it’s going on right now and I don’t want to miss any, so apologies for a miserable post here.

More tomorrow.