Archive for January, 2010

First things first.

I know how blessed I am.

I discussed this very topic over at Hopeful Parents the other day. While I know it, and remind myself of it often, sometimes I just get pissy.

All moms need a break, a respite, a chance to get the hell away and recoup. Some get that break, most don’t. And what we see on the outside isn’t always what is going on on the inside. A mom could be handling things just fine, but on the inside her brain is melting and desperately needs some time to herself, where she has no responsibility other than choosing what to put in her coffee. Or what kind of wine to enjoy. Or if she wants fresh-cracked pepper on her heirloom lettuce salad.

This was to be my weekend. My chance to get the hell outta Dodge, to make no decisions, to sit and read and write and think and have no responsibilities whatsoever. I figured I needed about a day and a half to get caught up on the computer work that has dogged me for weeks and another day to just be a slug. I’d return home refreshed and ahead, in preparation for my husband traveling for the better part of the next several weeks.

You know what they say about the best laid plans, right?

Tom has a titchy back. I have now dubbed her “Bernice,” simply because I like assigning names to things, and because he’s not here right now to weigh in. Bernice is a jealous bitch. Bernice does not like to be ignored. Bernice is a Mean Girl. Bernice showed up unannounced and unwelcome to our weekend away at a five star resort. Tom is technically working, but I had planned to retire to the deliciously opulent room and disappear from the world for awhile. Bernice showed up and I just couldn’t. Tom had to take a muscle relaxant so he could function, and I couldn’t leave him alone. I needed to make sure he was ok, that he was sitting as much as he could, that he wouldn’t keel over. No matter what, my family comes first.  He’s ok today (so far), but I lost all of Friday.

I know how blessed I am to even be here, despite Bernice’s arrival. I know this. I know that the world is in terrible shape in so many ways, and that this is incredibly minor in the grand scheme of things. I feel guilty even feeling this way.

But.

I really needed this weekend. Not just wanted, but needed. Tom is traveling much of the next few weeks. My stress level in the last few weeks has gotten worrisome (when my left eye starts twitching and/or I get throbbing pressure behind it, I know I’m deep into the red zone). I’m scared and worried about the future. I feel guilty that I’m not better supporting my family. I get to the end of each day and wonder where the hell the time went, and if my whole life is going to be like that, eventually looking back at my life and wondering where it went. I just needed a few days to myself, to hit the restart button and maybe slow down that out-of-control treadmill of life for a bit. February, my least favorite month of the year, starts Monday. Past Februarys haven’t been kind to me. I was hoping to have built up a bit of reserves before it got here.

Again, I am insanely blessed in my life.

But if Bernice, that bitch, shows her damned face again anytime soon, I’m going to rip it off.

That I also write at Hopeful Parents?

And today is my day for posting?

And I have a post up today?

And my parents are visiting?

And Tom and I are leaving in the morning for a few days away?

And that this is all I got today in my wee widdle bwain?

Yeah, I’m sure you figured it out by now.

My positive karma account was just depleted when J was accepted into full-day kindergarten, that’s all. I’m kinda hoping it refills here pretty soon, as I’m tired of being in the red with that account.

A is home sick today. Too sick for school, not sick enough to sleep all day. So we’ve been watching the Bill Nye videos we got at the library yesterday, and the Science of Disney Imagineering videos we picked up too. I’m wildly in love with this series, and if they weren’t $50 a pop, I’d buy all five. So far today he’s learned (and taken the DVD quiz to prove he’s retained) about magnetism and Newton’s Three Laws of Physics. Uh-huh, more learning here today coughing on the couch than he would have gotten over the fence.

But still, home sick. Which meant I had to cancel two appointments today, and slowed down long enough to realize I don’t feel so hot. Not exactly sick, just really tired/sleepy/wiped out. This must stop. Now. Today. I have a free weekend with my husband at a five star resort this weekend, my parents flying in to watch the boys, and I’ll be damned if I miss it because my little petri dishes shared their goo with me.

So I’m going to spend my sick/not sick day on the couch with A while he watches videos and plays on my iPhone (yes, I’m that awesome). Have laptop, will work from couch. I’ll be able to read and comment on all the blogs I haven’t had a chance to read. Current reader count: 351. Sigh. It hasn’t been under 200 since before Thanksgiving. Funny thing….people might come here and comment if I go to their site and comment. You’d think I’d remember that. I can finally get to work on my resume, provided I can pull myself away from job hunting sites to actually work on it. That particular horse is looking around and thinking, “Duuuude, I might be low on opposable thumbs and have a brain the size of a pear, but even I know that cart should be behind me.” So, yeah. Update the 10 year old resume first, search second. I might even be able to iron out a few areas of my life. (Imagine a pair of white linen pants that you forgot in the dryer. They now resemble a relief map of the western United States. That is the current state of most everything I’ve touched lately).

I will gather strength for the parent/teacher conferences this afternoon. One will have a teacher telling us everything is faboo, the other will have a teacher telling us everything is not entirely faboo, and we really should meet to discuss the future. Yes, I know, I’ve been saying that for awhile now. Welcome to the party.

But before I begin my sprint towards the rest of the day (and really, when did life become a marathon at a sprint’s pace?), I need a nap. I’m going away this weekend unless there’s projectile vomit involved, but I’d really prefer to enjoy it.

I participated in the very first Twitter #gtchat yesterday. Both of them, actually. And…learned that they’re a lot more fun when you have your Twitter settings on public because then people hear you when you talk. My dark technology karma continues. Live and learn, Jen, live and learn. So if you are here from #gtchat, welcome! Glad you came by. I do have to warn you, however, that I do not write exclusively on giftedness and twice-exceptionalities. I mean, I suppose I could, but I’m fairly certain I’d go insane rather quickly. Long walk off a short pier sort of thing. I can’t write completely about 2e for the same reason that I have a huge library of books on giftedness/intensities/2e/ADHD, and have read very few of them. By the time I get the peace I need to read and concentrate, the last thing I want to do is read about the craziness that has me craving that very peace and concentration. So I crawl into bed with the latest Funny Times, laugh, and have more pleasant dreams.

So no 2e today, just random laughs. While the search terms bringing people here aren’t nearly as funny as some, still I sometimes look at the phrase and wonder just what the hell is going on in the world, and why people thought the answers would be found here.

• why am i ageing so fast
  Well, going out on a limb here, but if you have kids, there’s your answer. Want to age faster? I’ll send you mine. My hair can’t handle much more covering the gray coloring enhancement.
• adult projectile poop
  Please, whoever you are, stay away from my house. My sons are finally to the “wiping their own butts” age, and I can throw the dog outside if she poops on the floor. I have enough shit in my life, I need no help from you. Oh, and good luck with that. Might want to add some fiber to your diet.
• blogging sites for kids/kids blogging sites/kids blogging websites
  I get an amazing amount of hits on this. If I knew what I was doing, I’d start a blogging platform for kids, but I can barely run my own blog, so that’s out for a future career. But I totally know what I’d love to see on a kids’ blogging platform, so if anyone out there wants to partner up, I’m your gal. In the meantime, I recommend a Blogger site and protect the absolute hell out of it.
• Intuniv
  Oh, the hits just keep on comin’! Every day there is at least one new search on Intuniv and my heart just breaks. I know the person searching is likely a parent trying to get some answers or figure out if the new ADHD would work for his/her kid. Chewing it? Yes, your kid will likely be fine if he chews it. He’ll enjoy the gag-inducing flavor of a drug not meant to be chewed, but it can be done without your child growing a third arm. Why must you wean slowly off Intuniv? Because it’s essentially a blood pressure lowering drug, and if you simply stop, the kid’s blood pressure will shoot through the roof as a rebound. At least that’s how I understood it when A’s doctor explained it. No longer working? Sorry to hear that. Apparently the perfect ADHD drug is still a myth.

Crap. That was a 2e-related note. I’ll try harder…

• tripitis sex
  Is this supposed to be “triplets” or “trapeze?” A new gender? Is it contagious? And seriously, how’d you end up here? Bet you were disappointed as hell!
• tiruba tuba
  Knowing tuba players, you might want to hook up with the tripitis sex searcher. You likely have a lot in common.
• full moon and adhd
  Yes, yes, and yes. And also the answer to why you’re aging so fast.

Oh, and did you know the evil rob0ts are after us again? Yeah, so say the boys. And gummy bears are chasing them too. Sounds like a bad LSD trip, but is just a Saturday of imaginative play. Uh-oh! The ship is about to blast off, J went through the airlock, and A is now controlling the robots’ minds. Good times, good times.

Last night Mile High Mamas hosted a night out at Boulder’s Sephora. Now, I’m not a girly-girl…one look at me will pretty much tell you that. I wear makeup to keep from frightening animals and small children, and shoes are for keeping my feet off the pavement, not to make a style statement. Yes, please insert your snarky Crocs comment here. I do know how to dress well, but would rather wear jeans and a top than part with my remaining brain cells to try to do more than that. God help me if I actually do find some sort of part-time job that requires me to be more professional. I can do it, but there will be much gnashing of teeth involved. I got away with khakis and loafers as a band director…not so sure I could pull that off in an office setting.

So anyhoo, I attended the MHM shindig in Boulder last night. The Apple Store next store to Sephora nearly pulled me in with its shining, promising hope of a better computing tomorrow (soon, my precious, soon…), but I stayed strong and avoided its siren call. (Yes, I would prefer to drop money there than on cosmetics, I admit it). Despite my non-girly girl status and comfy shoe preference, I had a fantastic time last night. I got a hand massage with extra lotion, because my hands went all sponge on the poor lady and sucked it all in (that would be the loud slurping sound everyone heard last night). I had a facial with the Clarisonic skincare brush (nice and soft, and I glowed afterwards). I had makeup applied. I found a lipcolor I not only liked but would wear and it came home with me (seriously, I never wear lipstick. Ever. Too many years of lip balm as a flute player. But this was a fantastic lip gloss, not too shiny, in a lovely color (sandy), and it tingled and made my scrawny lil’ lips plump up. Win win.). I had a professional head shot taken at a “Tom will not kill me because we’re trying to cut back” price. I really needed the head shot; my last one is at least ten years old and I’m holding a flute. Not exactly up to date.

I got pampered. And I liked it.

Many thanks to Mile High Mamas and Sephora for hosting the gathering last night. I had a wonderful time with all the moms there, and can’t wait for the next event. I hear it has something to do with wine. Now that is my kind of event!

I finally did it. After years of struggle, and months of putting it off, I sent A’s teachers/counselors/principal a detailed email describing what we’ve been going through and begging for help. I finally came to the conclusion that I can do all the reading and researching and implementing here I want, but without the help of the people with him for the better part of the day, I’m just Sisyphus. This was the first time I sent an email to everyone. Before now, it was just a “please help” email to a single teacher, maybe two. This time was “PLEASE HELP AND HERE’S WHY” to anyone who could help him. Vague promises of accommodations are no longer enough. Not for this kid. I want it in writing, I want it in an IEP, I want it to follow him to any school he may attend.

Tom and I have ideas of what he needs to succeed, but as this is our first trip to this particular amusement park, we know there are things we’ll miss without guidance. Here’s where you all come in. If you could have any accommodations for your child at school, what would they be? Aim high, money no object, flip off the state testing. What would your perfect accommodations be? What is the perfect world for a gifted kid in elementary school?

Tweet this, stumble it, shout it to the heavens. Let’s get a discussion going. Our kids can all benefit.

Technology was supposed to make our lives easier, right? I never really believed the flying cars or robot maids part of The Future, but technology working for us? Yup,  hook/line/sinker. I look back to what we had when I was A’s age and go slack-jawed at the progress (when I was eight, we didn’t have a computer, but we did have old punch cards from room-sized computers that my dad had from a previous job). Now I have sons who Skype each other between rooms. In the same house. On the same floor.

The downside to all this is that it can’t run itself, so we have to stay on top of the freaking machines so they freaking WORK have the opportunity to interact with the various technologies. And when the computer has issues (really, I’d link, but damn, it’d just be one underlined word after another for a couple of paragraphs) and things are s-l-o-w, it just takes forever.

So, in the interest of saving money during this time of OMFG OUR HEALTH INSURANCE IS GOING TO BE WHAT?, we are consolidating various technologies around the house and dropping others. As much as we love DirecTv, we’ve scaled our plan way back rather than just dropping it. This means there’s no tv in the basement (sorry boys, suck it up), and the channels we get have been greatly reduced. Including music channels…including XM Kids. This is not going over well with the young creatures in the house.

I’m also bundling internet and phone, getting a better plan for a heck of a lot less coin. This means I get unlimited long-distance free and super zippy internet. So fast I expect to hear wheeeee when I send an email and whooooosh when I open a new web page. Unfortunately, I have to drop my current ISP, and as many times as customer service tells me I’ll be able to keep the old email addresses, I don’t believe them because technology tends to turn on me when I least expect it. During the changeover, I’ll be without the internets for a few days. It is physically painful to write that sentence. Unless I can find the setting on the iPhone to go straight to 3G and not search for wifi, I’m going to be rocking with my thumb in my mouth until I’m back online. And we all know it won’t go smoothly. Not a pessimist, a realist. Nothing with this computer/modem/router has ever gone smoothly.

So, I’m now off to cancel my ISP and pray it only takes a day to get back online. If you don’t hear from me by the end of the week, it may not be because the internets is still down…it may be because I took a sledgehammer to the whole damned thing and moved into a cave.

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If you parent/teach/know a gifted kid, there is a gifted chat on Twitter this Friday!!! The hashtag is #gtchat (NOT NOT NOT the previously announced #nomoremyths). Please join if you can! Deborah has all the details on her blog, Ingeniosus. And please pass the word to other teachers and parents. Hey, I invited our GT coordinator and essentially outed this blog to the school by doing so; you can invite people you know. That is how strongly I feel about this, and gifted advocacy in general. Join!

Or…Dear Penthouse, I never thought this could happen to me…

It’s no secret that the last few weeks have been off the charts stressful here in the House of Chaos. I’ve moved past laugh to keep from screaming to drink to drown the hysterics that will frighten dogs and small children and land me in a quiet padded room. Our health insurance went up eleventy billion dollars for less coverage, we’re looking at a significant salary drop this year, I’m trying to find some sort of gainful employment, one son is struggling in school, the other has become a juicy grape and is w(h)ining non-stop, together they are attempting to break all records for MAKING THEIR PARENTS LOSE THEIR SHIT IN FIVE SECONDS OR LESS, I overdid it at cardio fit yesterday and am so sore that I’m typing this with my tongue, and the dog has toxic farts from hell that the Department of Defense is studying as a possible new weapon of mass destruction. Oh, and it’s a three-day weekend.

The only thing keeping the adults in this house from sitting in the corner, rocking and sucking thumbs is the dog would come over for a belly rub and land a silent-but-deadly, burning off all skin and hair and rendering us unconscious, as well as deaf, blind, and mute.

We decided to have a quiet day at home today. No church, hang out, do some planning for the week. Just a nice.quiet.day.

Oops.

With the particular set of children we have, there’s not a lot of opportunity for gettin’ busy “private adult time.” Even though they’re in bed on the early side, they stay up reading until they pass out from exhaustion, then are up at the crack of dawn. If we wait for some boom chicka wah wah “private adult time” until after they’re certainly asleep, we’re too tired to knock boots for anything and we pass out instantly. So the occasional Sunday morning pickle tickle “private adult time” rocks. We set the boys up with something and disappear. Unfortunately, A is grounded from anything with a screen this weekend for his little “play with Daddy’s phone and accidentally call his boss in the middle of the night” stunt (gets better: said boss was sick with the flu when he called. Sigh), so we left the boys eating breakfast.

Oops.

A muffled crash. Me: Let’s pretend we didn’t hear that.

Oops.

I need to invent some sort of portable, concrete doorway barrier for parents wanting to get it on some “private adult time.” Preferably something with klaxon horn alarms, spikes, fire hoses, and rabid dogs. The locked door and laundry basket wedged under the doorknob only served to slow A from barreling into the room to tell us that he dropped his juice glass and it shattered. The dog snuck in at that point. And stayed. After shooing the child, relocking the door and jumping back on the express bus to Funkytown returning to some “private adult time,” the dog informed us that she wanted in on the action by attempting to jump on the bed. Repeatedly. The phone rang and was answered by a child, who came back up to inform us that some friends were on their way over. The juice in question was grape. It hit the carpet. And the boys were cleaning up the broken glass…in bare feet.

It was a less-than-satisfying dance between the sheets “private adult time,” all before 11 am. All we could do was laugh. And look at one another and laugh some more, to the point of much needed hysterical tears. In retrospect, we should have just stayed in the shower. Two and a half hours later, no questions yet from A. Those will come either in front of some guests or the Pastor next week, if he asks where we were today. Proof positive that we have not an angry or vengeful God, just one who needs a good laugh like the rest of us now and again (to wit: gonna skip out on a Sunday morning? Ok, let’s try this on for size!).

Are you having a nice, quiet day? What’s that like?

Dear parents and teachers of gifted kids,
There will be a Twitter chat on supporting gifted kids next Friday, hashtag #nomoremyths. If you’re not on Twitter, get on Twitter so you can participate. Hosting is the delightful Deborah Mersino of Ingeniosus. Keep an eye on her blog next week for further details, or just drop me a note and I’ll make sure you have the info. Deborah is fantastic at gifted advocacy and support, and hopefully later this month we’ll finally meet for lunch. She’s lining up all the experts she can, so it will be worth your time to jump onto this Twitter chat.
Giving you the super secret double pinky gifted handshake,
Jen

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Dear A,
May I ask just WTF you were thinking, going into Daddy’s office this morning? And playing with his phone? And accidentally calling his boss? You know, the guy who works at home and heard his phone ring at 5:15 am? I can see you now know how absolutely stupid that was for you to do, and I’m sure a weekend of no screen time will push the lesson home too.  Really dude, not a good way to start the day.
Do it again and we’ll superglue your fingers together (just kidding…mostly…),
Mom

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Dear Qwest,
Dudes, I don’t know what you’re doing, but keep doing it. I had to call a couple of times this week to make changes to our account and both times I had people who didn’t live across the world from me! And I talked to a real, live human being within 90 seconds! And I’m getting super faster internet and free unlimited long distance AND saving quite a bit of coin! Truly, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but calling your customer service was the best part of this craptastic week.
Keep it up and I’ll quit calling you Qworst,
The woman who can’t wait to have internet so fast it blows her hair back

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Dear, sweet Rosie,
I know you smell that ginormous ham in the kitchen. It’s making my mouth water too. But you even think of working that pea brain of yours to figure out a way to eat it, I will sell you. Ain’t no amount of lovin’ to make up for that, girlfriend. And your toxic farts are bad enough without a fresh 20 pound ham in you. Just sayin’.
Love you except the hair,
Mom

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Dear J,
Sweetheart, coming up to me at school when I’m volunteering and you’re supposed to be working and asking for a friend to come over after school and then starting up the whining when I say no isn’t going to get you what you want. It’s only going to tick me off. And after this week from hell, I really don’t need that. I don’t want to be responsible for another human being in this house this afternoon. Does this make me a bad mom? Probably, but frankly, I’m past caring this week.
Still love you but want some quiet,
Mommy

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Dear school,
Next week I start the process of being a thorn in your side. I have an 8 year old son who is having panic attacks over the state testing coming up. I wish I was exaggerating, but alas, no. I’m anxious to hear what you have to say, but my take on it is, give him the accommodations he needs or I will pull him from the testing and the school will show a big fat goose egg on its record. I can homeschool for a few months, or borrow money from friends and family to put him in the fantastic private school I toured yesterday. Your call.
She’s waking from her nap and not happy about it,
Mama Bear

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Dear universe,
Your current cranial-rectal inversion is really borking up my mojo. I’m tired of waking up in the morning afraid of what is going to be thrown at me and in what order. I’ve managed to survive the shit you’ve thrown my way recently, now it’s time to plant in the well-fertilized soul of my life. I want need a job. Preferably part-time, but will somehow juggle full-time if the right thing comes along. Something that will not kill my brain. I know I’ve been out of the workforce awhile, but good grief, pay me what I’m worth.  I need some guidance for my son, because I’m at the end of my rope and about to hang myself with what’s left. I need my husband back, instead of the half-zombie, half-kumquat I have now. I need to catch up on all the emails, paperwork, housecleaning, miscellany of my life before my brain goes on strike (complete with little signs and rhyming chants), making everything all the  more difficult. Cut me a break, will ya?
Rocking back and forth in the corner with her thumb in her mouth,
Jen (almost 5pm…almost 5pm)

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Dear everyone I owe an email response,
I’m so sorry. It’s coming. I hope.
Can’t type fast enough,
She who has a computer so slow that an entire line is typed before it magically appears

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Love and kisses, all!

Are you a fan of Quaker on Facebook? Yes, as in oatmeal. I mentioned that I went to the Oatmeal Fest this weekend and now the pictures are up on the Facebook site. Yeah, swing on by, take a gander, you can’t miss me. Look for the tall woman in a purple coat. Please do not mistake me for Barney; according to my sons he’s either dead or in prison. I am not going to try to talk them out of that belief.
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I’ve decided that I want to start building a stronger community here. See all those awesome words up in the header? If you’re in a reader, humor me, click through. Ok, now see all the awesome words in the header? Any of them resonate with you? Hooray! Community! Now look left…no, your other left (geeze, it’s marching band flashback time!)…see the new BlogFrog community badge? See how sad it is with no one listed in it? Sad, sad badge. After you comment here and tell me just how beeeyuuutiful I looked in the Quaker picture (yeah, even I’m gagging now), click through and join my Chaos Community. Start your own. Link to mine, I’ll link to yours (like two little boys showing each other their…but I digress). Happy, happy badge.

For awhile I’ve felt as though my online community has shifted from this little writing project to Facebook and while I don’t mind that in the slightest, I’m hoping to bring a little lovin’ back here. I’m working to comment more on others’ blogs (though you’d never know it if you looked at my reader: 270 and counting…stop writing! Let me catch up!), and bring back that cozy feeling of community. I sense that many of us are more open and honest writing than anywhere else.

So there ya have it. Clicky clicky. Build community. Linky linky. And you know what I get to go do now? I know you’re going to be soo jealous. Wii Fit, because I didn’t make it to the rec center today and I’m afraid I’m creating a butt groove in this chair. A hard, wooden kitchen chair. Be gentle, oh Wii Fit animated dude, don’t yell at me. You’re freaky enough, don’t go all Jillian on me. I might cry.