Friday, September 28, 2012

Look who came back from the dead.

I must be feeling better because while I was out getting more pretzels for Alex, some dude cut me off in traffic and I immediately thought, "You stupid son-of-a-bitch."  At that moment I knew I'd come back from the dead.  Every single one of us have been sick in this house, probably with two or three different things, going on about three weeks now.

Alex was still not better after a week so we went to his doctor to check him out.  Autism and Asthma make a horrible combination and for a kid who can't tell me when he's going to puke, I hold out very little hope he can tell me if its hard to breathe.

Screw you people for jamming a q-tip down my throat.  

Turns out, we all have strep.  That would explain why my throat has been on FIRE, why I've been feverish and why I've been partly delusional, aside from my normal delusions of grandeur.

It's amazing what antibiotics can do.  Sure they're ripping through my gut like a tsunami but by God, I can breathe and for the first time in a solid week I can think clearly.  That right there, is better living through chemistry.  

Now I have to pick up the remnants of my house and get our lives back together.

I think I have:
  • 15 loads of laundry to do.
  • 8 missed therapies.
  • 2 missed groups.
  • 1 missed garden club for Alex.
  • 1 possible dead crab.
  • 2 dentist appointments, completely overlooked.
  • 6 toilets to scrub.

And I may have:
  • OD'ed three times on NyQuil by slugging it like a shot, screwing that little cup/dispenser thing on top.  
  • Found three abdominals I never knew I had, while coughing/puking at 10:00 PM and 2:00 AM, respectively. 
  • Wished I was dead 42 times. 
  • Cussed out about 8 dragons in DragonVale that have lead to major malfunctions in this house.  I'm looking at you, Equinox Dragon.  
  • And 1 sick husband. 

And don't worry, all the crabs are alive (damn-it) and turns out when you're sick you do make bad decisions so the trim on the house needs to be repainted.  You should have heard that foul language.

Aside from all of that, it's good to be back.

Friday, September 21, 2012

Seriously, take me out back and shoot me, would you?

Yeah, we're sick again.  Imagine that.  I don't know if my kids lick the floors at school, or french kiss the water fountain, but there it is.

I went to pick up Lizzy at school and the nurse said some kids have been out about four or five days.  Do you know what that means in our house?

Challenge Accepted.

Lizzy was out a week.  Alex has been out four days, so far.  I don't quite know when Gracie started getting sick but I started to pop Tylenol in her mouth when she started to gag, so she was covered.

We're in it to win it, that's all I can say.  In it to win it.

Alex has been sitting on a temp of 103 point holy shit that's hot.  He doesn't even realize he's sick and when he starts screaming, "My arm hurts, my arm hurts!" that's code for "I'm gonna hurl!"  

So far, his arm has hurt three times.  All over the car, missing the bucket entirely.  All over the driveway, nearly splatting a painter when they had a question that couldn't wait.  I guess he didn't hear me screaming, "Now's really not a good time for me!" and "Holy Shit!  Could you PLEASE try and AIM for the bucket.  Dear God, what did you eat?"

Yup. Nothing says back to school like airing out the car.  

Come to think of it, I don't remember seeing that particular painter again.  Remember how I mentioned we were starting on the exterior of the house?  Yeah, we've started.

And I don't exactly remember the third time he puked but Alex says it happened, so I believe him.

Somewhere in there, I've gotten sick so I've been toggling back and forth between Ibuprofen and Acetaminophen.  I don't even want to think about the war that's raging in my liver and kidneys right now.  I just keep thinking it could be worse, much worse, my husband could get sick.

The thing I've noticed with the kids being sick is just this:  my seven year old can articulate what hurts but my eight year old cannot.  Heck, even my two year old can point to her throat when I ask where it hurts.  Alex can't tell me that.  He can't say what hurts, where or even that he feels off.  He just can't put together all the pieces.  He's not there yet.

The only saving grace was that, this time Lizzy went down first so when he got sick, I knew what to look for.

But....but, when he gets sick, it's much worse.  He doesn't understand and he regresses.  I think he fundamentally understands something is wrong but he just doesn't know what.  Then, when your body's not doing what it should be doing, its grounds for some serious confusion.  And this is just me, but I think Alex gets sick longer and he tends to get the worst case of whatevers going around.

While Lizzy was laid up with a temp and sore throat, Alex has all of that, plus puking, plus hives and plus major adrenaline.  For two whole days he was one big hive.  Literally, his whole body was covered in hives and he couldn't stop itching.  The only thing that worked was to sit in a cool shower.  I won't tell you our water bill or how draining it is to keep an eight year old from scratching himself to a bloody pulp.  

And then, because they put the fear of God in the kids about lice at school, as soon as Alex started itching we had to do lice checks.  All The Time.  His head was itchy.  Itchy heads mean lice and because lice causes itchiness there had to be lice.  He was actually disappointed he wasn't growing a whole little nit farm on his head.

I was not.   

And he was bored.  He still is bored.  Good God All mighty, he's bored.  He's bored with NingaGo, How its Made, the computer and horror of all horrors, he's bored with his iTouch and the iPad.  And because he's bored, I get to hear about it, every twenty seconds.

Animusic.  Dear God, please make it stop.    

I have stopped being mom and have reverted back to being, "Hey waiter, I need more Gatorade."

I've become my child's manservant.

And I'm exhausted.  This is how I know having a child with Special Needs is a little more work, a little harder, a little more challenging.  I know it.  I live it.  It doesn't make him any less lovable.  Matter of fact, watching him while he's sick, and lose comprehension and understanding of the situation, rips my heart out.  But it does bring to light the difference between a child who has Special Needs and one who does not.

And now I have to go.  I think Gracie is puking.....again.  

Yup, that's what it was...

Note: the baby was up with a 104.oh shit, I'm scared fever, for most of yesterday and last night.  So if you're wondering where I've been, there's the answer.  I'll try to get to blogs as time arises.....I just didn't want you thinking I went *poof.*  All though, right now, that would be kinda nice....

Monday, September 17, 2012

I'm learning to live with Dragons in our house.

We have a new love in our house, it's iThing related.  Every love affair in this house is iThing related.  I lay the blame squarely at my husbands feet.  Usually when I go out for a bit and wonder the aisles of Walmart or Target for some alone time (don't judge me) he has to fend for himself with the kids.

His fending for himself involves a movie, the Wii or a new app/game on the iThing's.  They all have a good time and when I get back home, the house is reasonably unharmed so I go with it.  I've learned to pick my battles around here and if he's watching the kids, I don't raise a fuss unless there's a hole in the wall or a tent in the back yard.

Both of which have happened, don't ask.  

Anyway, when I came back from the store, my phone was whisked out of my hand and had DragonVale installed in a matter of seconds.  Seconds.

You smug little Wizard you.  

From that moment forward, I have had no peace.  None.  We've been talking about dragons all day, all night, all the time.

"Mom, did you see I have a Cold Dragon?  Lizzy doesn't have one.  Hey Lizzy, guess what kind of dragon I have?  I have a COLD DRAGON!"  Alex screams, happy as a clam he has a new dragon and mindless of the shit-storm Lizzy's going to unleash because she doesn't have a Cold Dragon.

"What?!  You have a Cold Dragon?!?  That's so not fair!  Mom, that's not fair!  I wanted a Cold Dragon!  That's not fair!!!" she wails, stomping around the house in a huff, bound and determined to make our lives miserable.

I would like to say it's stopped there.  It has not.  Lizzy's been bent out of shape ever since.


Until there was a promotion and DragonVale had this thing where you could enter and possibly receive a Sapphire Dragon.  The to die for dragon.  The dragon to beat all other dragons.

Long story short:  Lizzy got one, Alex did not.  I will save you the histrionics, meltdowns and furor that has been unleashed in this house.  Lizzy is good at payback and lets just say she's paid back, in full.

The Pandora's box of DragonVale.

Have I mentioned the fury/angst/horror that has been unleashed because Alex didn't get a Sapphire Dragon?  I have???  It bears repeating.  It's brought me to my knees.

I've had to write not one, but two letters, into school letting them know what's going on.  Something along the lines of:

"Alex is coming in to you very upset because he's not received the Sapphire Dragon in DragonVale.  I thought you should know so you can break him accordingly.  I don't know what DragonVale is either.  In other related news, tell Lizzy congrats."

I thought this was a one day event.  Lizzy got her dragon, end of story.

Not so.

Apparently the damn thing had to hatch.  See, in DragonVale they gave the eggs out as the promotion.  They still had to incubate and then the dragons hatch the next day.  

So I had to send in another letter, the next day:

"Another rough AM here.  Apparently the dragons of DragonVale need to hatch.  Lizzy's Sapphire Dragon hatched this AM sending Alex into another meltdown.  In other related news, I'm going insane and I hate dragons."

At one point I called my husband and it went a little something like this, "What in the fuck- fuck-fuck is DragonVale?  Wait, don't answer that.  Just tell me how we get Alex a Sapphire Dragon.  Can you gift it to him or something?  WAIT, WHAT?!?  IT COSTS $100!!!  Real America dollars?!?  Are you shitting me?!?   You have to fix this honey, I can't handle another morning like this."  

Yeah, turns out DragonVale was promoting these gems because they're fucking expensive.  The only way Alex could get the coveted dragon, was if I play and gift him gems. When he gets enough gems he can get a Sapphire Dragon.  

That was last week.

I've set strict limits on the kids iThings and we're somewhat back to normal.  Turns out, Alex was gifted another dragon as part of the promotion which is valuable in its own rights, so he's happy.

My very own Dragon Island.

The problem is, I've been sucked into DragonVale.  I've managed to get up to level 12 and I want the Sapphire Dragon.  Someone give me some gems would you?  I want that damn egg.

I gotta go, I have to pick which dragons I want to fight in the Colosseum.    

Friday, September 14, 2012

I'll make this easy. A crinoid is a fossil.

I'm always amazed at what comes home from school in my children's pockets, always amazed.  The kids have been back in school for a bit and I noticed something shake out of Alex's pocket when I was doing laundry. 

I should say, after I sent them through the washer and dryer.  When I went to pull out the lint trap, all the things fell down between the walls of the dryer.  With a hangar in one hand, and the vacuum attachment thing in the other, I started to fish the things out. 

Alex came up and started talking to my ass.  

"Mom, hey mom!  Have you seen my Crioids?  I brought three home from school.  I put them in my pants pocket on Friday and now I can't find them."

Why yes, they are 1/100th the size of a dime.  

"Ok, well hon, mommy's a little busy here.  Can you use your eyes and see what I'm doing?  Maybe we can talk in a few minutes?"  

You know, when you're not talking to my ass.  

"Alex hon, these things fell down into the dryer and I'm trying to fish them out.  Wait.  What did you call those things again?"  At this point, I was stuffed all the way in the dryer and it dawned on me that whatever he wanted, that's what was lodged between the walls of the dryer.  

"OK mom, talk later....but mom you have to clean the dryer vent every three months so you might as well do that now.  Did you know if you don't clean it, you'll have a greater risk of fire in your laundry tubing?  You should really clean that thing out while you're here.  You're doing a good job cleaning mom." 

All I could think of was, awesome social skills telling my ass I was doing a good job cleaning.  Sure he was talking directly to my rear end but whatever, he gave me a compliment.  

Anyway, something must have clicked in Alex's brain that I was fishing out his crinoids because all of a sudden my ass was getting yelled at.

"Oh My Gosh mom!!  You lost my crinoid in the washer!  Wait, no!!!  You lost it in the that what you're getting out of the dryer?!?  Dear Lord in Heaven, you can't use the vacuum!  Aggghhh!!!  NOT THE VACUUM.   YOU MUST NOT SUCK UP MY CRINOIDS!!!!"

That was followed up by all sorts of gargling noises from Alex and me cussing after banging my head getting out of the dryer.  I finally got him calmed down over the vacuum, letting him know whatever we suck out of the dryer will be splayed out like an anatomy cat so we could collect his crinoids.  

The fear of the vacuum in our house is legendary.  LEGENDARY.  All I can say is vacuum plus Lego equal scarring traumatic life event.   

Anyway, we found one crinoid.  ONE.  He had three.  The other two were stuck in the walls of the dryer.  And news flash, that's where they're going to stay.

I found out while he's at recess, he likes to dig for fossils.  In the midst of all the kids running and playing, he digs.  There are a few other children that dig with him but for the most part he digs quietly by himself.  

A severe drought makes for one hell of a crinoid dig. 

And that's exactly why every night after school, for the past two weeks, we've been doing our own fossil dig.  We're looking for crinoids.  After the school settles down and all the kids go home, we slip back to the back corner of the playground and we dig.  

Silently.  Peacefully.  Next to each other.  Digging.  Every once in a while we shout, "Hey I got one!"  We share a quick smile and we slip right back into quiet.   

Our quiet.    

Monday, September 10, 2012

In which I talk about my GI system. At length. There's your warning.

I swear to God, I've been sick for the last week and I've narrowed it down to two things: Stress and a visit from my husband's aunt.  She traveled in from out of town and cooked for us.

That was last week.

I've been sick ever since.

Maybe it's a combination of being stressed and the visit, I don't know.  My stomach has been pushed right over the edge.  I've spent more time looking at the four walls of my bathroom and I've named the spider that's hanging out in the bottom right corner, next to my sink, Running bra.

That damn spider has set up shop next to the laundry pile and that one bra is just close enough, I'm not willing to touch it--the spider or the bra.  

Spider wins the battle and keeps the bra.

I know.  I'm not that creative to begin with but when you're losing half your body weight our your ass, the mind starts to shut down.  All creative thoughts are purged and the only thing I can think of is, "Oh My Fucking God, I think I have a tapeworm.  Can you get a tapeworm in today's day and age?  A parasite maybe?  Oh Jesus...I swear to be good, just please make this stop, I will never eat fried egg rolls again.  Oh God, I have to get the kids in a few minutes."

So that's what I've been doing this past week.  You know, besides picking out a whole exterior for the house and thinking of the different and varied ways to maim the kids that bullied Alex last week.

On the upside, I think I've dropped three pounds.

This would have nothing to do with my GI issues.
Nothing.  I'm sure of it.  

So yeah, I've been out of commission.

That and the kids are just not happy.  The change back to school is wearing thin.  I almost got my mouth sewn shut with toothpicks when I mentioned homework.


That dirty little whore.  Alex has an on again, off again relationship with homework and right now we're in the OFF phase.  As in, I've had to call school and tell them we're not quite there yet and I'm sorry the 'All About Me' collage is really 'All About Lego's' and absolutely nothing about Alex, unless of course, you count that he is all about Lego's, then that would totally work.  Thank God his teachers are understanding and they're letting it slide.

So I'm trying to get back to a Monday, Wednesday, Friday posting but right now it's just not happening.

I'll be back to posting as soon as I get this tapeworm out of my system.      

Friday, September 7, 2012

When did we get so busy?!?

So the problem I'm having right now is life is getting in the way.  You would have thought that with school starting I'd have some free time.


We've had some family drop in unexpectedly and a situation at school that I will post on later but not now.  Right now I just need to get through today and breathe.  While in theory those are small things, in reality they have blown up in our faces.  Because of that I've been a bit absent.

And because we're also working on this:

After one hail storm, three appraisers, one mitigator, arbitration, two contractors, three attorneys and eighteen months, we've finally been given the go ahead by a certain nameless insurance company to rip off the roof and start over.  Now we're in the process of picking a roof, garage doors, gutters/downspouts and exterior paint and trim.

Want a good way to freak out the kids in your family?  Make plans to rip off your roof.

I swear, the only saving grace with the drought in Kansas has been the fact we've not had any rain.  That was, until last week, when the remnants of Hurricane Isaac dumped three inches of much needed rainfall into our laundry room.

Right before the Irish Festival Lizzy was dancing in.  And right into the light fixture because well, why not?

To say Alex got the shit scared out of him when he turned on the light was an understatement.  "Mom!!!  MOM!!!  There is water coming from the light in the ceiling!!  Water and electricity don't mix!!  Mom, we're all gonna to die! Aggggghhh...."

He lost his mind and went on and on about the issues we were going to have with the house burning down, electrocution, and other untoward results from water dripping out of the light fixture.....

I just looked at my husband and said, "Fuck.  Flip the breaker, get a bucket and lets go."  Which is exactly what we did.

Minus our tickets to the Irish Festival.

And minus Alex's headsets.

In the midst of talk of electrocution and death by fire, getting dancing shoes, tackling the toddler and finding snacks and bug spray, I somehow managed to forget them.


Day one.  I'd like to think of the Irish Fest as more of an
endurance event....

So we got there and Lizzy danced her ass off.  She was awesome.  Gracie ate her weight in Cheeto's and Alex and I played War all the while discussing how a person could die from being electrocuted and all the finer points of an electrical current when it runs through human flesh.

Center Stage baby.

My girl was center stage.
And no, none of these girls are my baby. 

Yup, that's right.  We played a good old fashioned game of War in the middle of her dance routine.  In our defense, it was almost two hours long and was in 100 degree heat.

We sat through the whole thing playing cards and talking about death by electrocution.


And I couldn't have been prouder.  All the noise, crowds, heat and stress and he did great.  Sure, he turned into one big hive later that night, but he got through it that afternoon.

Day two.  

So while Lizzy danced, Gracie ate and Alex and I played, I looked around and came to a realization.  I may be busy, I may be stressed and I've had absolutely no to time to write is good.

Life is good.

Now, anyone want to help decide on garage door and trim color?