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September 2011
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November 2011

Pointing and cackling

Every year I decide to do a bunch of Halloween activities. Actually, some of them I don't choose - there is always the school party and parade, and a yearly Trick or Treat function at my husband's office. But other activities I fully admit I get my own butt into.  Decorating the entire front of the house in whatever vintagey theme we've come up with, carving a gazillion pumpkins, offering to host trick or treaters, and this year we're having some of Chance's classmates over for a pre-Halloween party.  I jump into this season full of enthusiasm, with my eyes wide open.

Every year, apparently, as informed by my friends, at the end of it I say, "Next year I'm not having a party!"  Then my friends point and laugh. 

But I do remember why we do it. It's because of the kids and memories full of shrieks. (Of laughter, not terror. Geez, I'm not mean.  Just a little Halloween crazy.)

Best buddies. Both in law enforcement. Sort of.

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Chance decided that since he was a cop he'd better direct traffic for the parade. And pick his underwear out of his butt. I'm not sure those kids are buying his authority.


Halloween 2011 004

Our crazy decorated house and front window.
Halloween 2011 004

Halloween 2011 004

So check it out... Keen's dad brought us a box of caramel apples from the produce market.  Now we made homemade caramels apples this year and they taste about a million times better than these pre-packaged deals, so Keen decided he would just give away the packaged caramel apples to trick or treaters.  Remember when you were a kid and there were always the rumors about that one house* that gave away full sized candy bars?  You'd hike through hell and high water for that extra generous portion.  Well we're already known for the decorations, now we're going to become that house.

Oy, I think our candy bill just went up.          - wg

*Locally, that's what people said about MC Hammer's house. But as far as anyone could confirm he gave away fun size, just like everyone else.


It's not domestic bliss, it's domestic boredom

Update.  Just so you know I'm not dead.  I stopped taking my medication and I had a blood test done and I haven't heard anything back from the doctor yet about that blood test so I'm just going to assume everything is fine.  I figure they would call if something serious came up, right?  There's no three day rule for doctors or anything.  Bad reaction to meds, end of story.

But I can tell you one thing... I'm not going on sore gum meds again. 

I felt pretty yucky for awhile but now it's getting better which brings me to something I've been avoiding... cleaning. Don't get me wrong, our house is clean. The dishes are done, the counters are clean, the floors are vacuumed/swept, but there are all those areas that don't need to be cleaned all the time that slowly build up grime and if you don't take care of them eventually you end up with an overall dingy house.  Ours is always bad by the end of summer.  I have a list of shit I would rather not do. Things like scrubbing down all the cabinets and steamcleaning cushions.  Wiping walls, washing windows.  Snore.

Because that's the thing they never talk about with housework.  They talk about how much work it is, that it's underappreciated yet necessary, even that it's important (uh... debatable).  They don't say that it's BORING!

Because it is.  It is totally totally boring.  Like staring at a wall, then applying soap.  And it hurts my back.

I'm not sure I believe those people who say they love housework.  I think they're hiding something.  Maybe they're spies, maybe they're doing some sort of super secret research.  I don't know.  I just don't buy it.  I'll probably have a wiretap put on my phone now.  I bet somewhere, someone who says they love cleaning is actually analyzing millions of posts for particular keywords and is now zooming in on my location via cross referenced satellite feeds. Instead of blissfully scrubbing the toilet one more time that person is speaking into a microphone, "She's found us out, sir," while s/he initiates government standard monitoring protocol. 

Because there's gotta be about a million more interesting things to do than clean.  I'm just saying.


Let's just hope it's those germy kids

I'm freaking myself out again. At least I'm hoping I'm just freaking myself out. I started a new medication for my thyroid condition and I'm having some side effects that I was going to talk to my doctor about. The primary one that's bugging me are really sore muscles after doing anything physical. And I don't mean running a marathon or learning jujitsu. I'm talking bending over to pull out weeds for five minutes and then being sore and tight for a day. Seriously? It's not serious but it is annoying.

Anyway, I've also been having a sore mouth.  Yes, a sore mouth.  I was going to write a funny post about the conspiracy of my medication giving me cold sores, or food ganging up on me, or something because it sounds funny!  You could go a lot of directions with that.  Been working that mouth too hard?  Where's that mouth been?  And so on and so forth.  I didn't think it was honestly related to the medicine.

Then I got on the freaking Internet.  Along with a sore throat and fever, both of which I have, gum disease could be a symptom of a serious side effect of this medication.

Are you fucking kidding me?


I almost jinxed it by saying how well things were going

Chance has had a rough time at school this week.  This year in general has gone a lot better than last year, but this week he started throwing tantrums at school again and his handsy behavior has ramped way up.  I've also noticed a general cockiness has suddenly surfaced.  He is quite imperious about issuing demands. (What?)  It's hard to tell how much he is pushing boundaries, how much he can't control because of sensory/impulse issues, or how much might be medication or OT treatment related (he just started some Primitive Reflex Integration treatment). That's one of the problems with kids who are non-neuro-typical... because the brain has to grow and adapt, any type of stimulus can set off behavior problems - even good stimulus, like a new OT treatment that stimulates nueral growth or learning something new, even if they love it.  I remember when I first started taking drum lessons... music was a completely new skill for me and for a while I lost my easy recall for words. I could feel my brain changing and when it got used to these new skills I was learning, my word recall popped back.  I suspect something like that is going on with Chance.

Except for the cockiness. I think that's just being a twirpy 6 1/2-year-old.  Oh, he's also being very cavalier about this concept called "rules".  Ahem.

Anyway, Chance is hugely into Pokemon right now.  He'll actually do chores, quickly and efficiently, without whining, to earn money to buy Pokemon cards!  (Two steps forward, one step back, right?)  Since I think part of his behavior is something he can't control and the other part is completely willful, I suggested that maybe we should take away a Pokemon card for every time he stomps his feet or invades the personal space of another kid at school. The teacher could keep count and let me know at the end of the day how many infractions there were.

He looked alarmed. Oh yeah, did I also mention my son glossing over incidents at school?

So we have a field trip tomorrow and I'm chaperoning. I will get to witness his behavior first hand!  And we're taking the fricking public bus system.  Insight on a bus.  Joy.


Who says a good man is hard to find?

(I tried to post this yesterday from my phone. Total app fail!)

Me and the kiddo have been knocked down with colds this week so I am, of course, behind. *sigh* I really just should acknowledge that I am behind in LIFE.  (Isn't there a special prize for that?)

So you know how I decorate our sunroom for Halloween every year? Well, I'm documentating again.  First stage...

Need a man?  Shop Amazon!

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He's very low maintenance.


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And such a good listener!

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He even likes all the same things I do. Here he is, watching Project Runway with me!

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His wardrobe, however, is a work in progress.                             - wg