Scone at Midnight

The Adventures (and Delirium) Continue

2009-06-02T23:51:00.002-06:00

OK, so all my stuff is in the new apartment and most of it is put away; not bad. Our new town is even more peaceful and beautiful than the other one, and we just love it. Pirate Boy keeps begging me to take him fishing; he can see the lake from our upstairs window, and it's just teasing him apparently. Yeah, the kids are out of school and pretty happy about that. (Kindergarten graduation was the cutest thing in the world, let me tell you.)

In other news, I managed to get myself and the kids to Colorado and back without too much trouble, even in the stadium during commencement, which is very little short of a miracle. Certainly it's a miracle I'm deeply grateful for. Another one is that The Man seems to have actually graduated-- or will have, once he pays his debt to the school. Not too bad.

I haven't gotten much paying work accomplished lately, partly because of the aforementioned stuff and partly because of massive migraine attacks. I have been working as much as possible, but all that's going to change soon. My two paying jobs are about to end, and I have nothing else in sight. (So I guess my rent won't go up after all.) I have to admit being secretly pleased; I've been looking for a way to finish writing a novel or two, and now I don't have anything (except the kids) to distract me from that. You guys keep bugging me about it and maybe it'll get done.

But meanwhile, I've got this little bit of surgery tomorrow. Actually, it's a pretty big bit of surgery, but I should be feeling better in a few days. I hope. My kids are pretty worried I won't make it through, poor little guys. So, if you're the praying kind... for my kids' sake... drop God a line for me? Thanks.

Moving On

2009-05-07T02:02:00.003-06:00

It's official; I've sold the house that my kids have lived in all their lives, and I'm now the proud (-ish) tenant of public housing, paying zero dollars a month until some kind of income starts coming in. And it's officially moving day, and I am gonna really regret it if I don't get some sort of sleep before all that starts in a few hours, so I've gotta go now. But stay tuned. There are some really interesting adventures in my near future. (Those who know me may want to duck and cover.)

Signing off now...

Another Little Adventure

2009-04-28T23:14:00.007-06:00

A funny thing happened today. I told my little punkin after I picked him up from kindergarten that we were going to have an adventure, but I just meant running some errands after lunch. ( I needed to get the closing documents for my house sent back to the realtor so I could have that albatross off my neck.) Maybe the nice people at the bank would give him a lollipop, that sort of thing. Nice easy stuff. Huh.

What I did NOT mean was that I would have a pseudo-heart attack at the kitchen table and get nothing done but have a lot of wires and monitors strapped to my body all day. And as nice as they are at the local hospital, I could have done without seeing its ER again for a LONG time.

Fortunately, this time, my folks were home and I could get help pretty quickly. I'm gonna have to strap a cell phone to myself, I swear, for those times I can't walk. Life is so exciting, isn't it?

The really great thing about all this was my lovely friends and neighbors swooping in to help. Living in such a small, tight-knit community, it was impossible for anyone to overlook the arrival of an ambulance at our door. I think our dear friend who shares my initials was at the house to see if she could take the kids off my hands before the last paramedic walked in. What a relief!

So after all the tests and x-rays and stuff, the doctor still didn't know what had happened with my heart. He suggested that since I was still lightheaded and weak, I might stay overnight for observation. Um, nope, gotta take off and find a notary and get these papers to Colorado. Thanks anyway. He took the next best option: wiring me to a portable monitor for 24 hours. Ooh, yay!

Again, not exactly what I had planned, but I'm sure some good will come of it. Sigh.

Filling In

2009-04-23T01:15:00.002-06:00

My husband (The Man- TM) brought me some of my old journals when he last visited, and along with a burning embarrassment about some things in my past, I had this realization that there were huge gaps in the story. Huge. There are bigger ones in between my blog posts, and this bothers me more often than not-- but apparently not enough for me to be more diligent.

However, I just have to fill in this one detail. You know a few months back, when the powers of Hades came swooping in and took away #1 Son? It just happened to be the 10-year anniversary of our losing our firstborn. Those two occasions are (I think) the only times I've ever known my husband to cry.

One other thing. After I talked to TM on the phone that morning, I flipped open the scriptures and this was the first verse my eyes lit on. It's an old trick I learned in seminary; looks like it still works.

Ups and Downs

2009-04-07T20:25:00.004-06:00

Now it's Tuesday night. My folks have now been out of town for a week. The kids and I are still sick, and I'm starting to feel pretty worn down. (OK, not just starting.)

I thought the kids were mostly better after the weekend, and I was looking forward to taking it easy for a bit and recovering my health, too. (My temperature's been a steady 100 degrees for ages.) But Pirate Boy had an earache by dinner time, and when it had resisted Motrin and actually gotten worse by midnight, I threw on some clothes and hauled us all to the emergency room. Oy vey.

Luckily, we live in a small town where there's not too much traffic at that time of night, in or around the hospital. In fact, it was kind of spooky walking those empty halls in search of a pharmacist afterward. My boy has a nasty, messy ear infection, but now he has antibiotics and is doing much better.

I discovered last night how fortunate I am that I can keep Lortab down. My mom and my little Pirate both apparently throw it right back up within a couple of minutes. I guess I believed my doctor when he said, "Most people tolerate this stuff pretty well." Not in my family, apparently.

In the absence of my parents, we've been blessed by some good friends and neighbors, who have taken care of us today. And now both the punkins are down for the night, and a storm's blowing in. Maybe I can get some rest tonight.

April Update

2009-04-04T22:17:00.003-06:00

It's Saturday night. My parents are out of town. The kids and I are sick. And it's been snowing for ages. But we've got plenty of food and medicine, a fireplace and warm blankets, and each other. So actually, life is pretty good.

But can it please be spring soon? Pretty please with whipped cream and a cherry on top? Huh? Sigh.

The Taxman Cometh

2009-03-28T23:03:00.002-06:00

And let me tell you, I'm so glad. There's nothing quite like actually having money in the bank for increasing my peace of mind, I don't know about you guys. Not that it'll stay there long at this rate. So far, with the tax refund, I've:

paid off my car,
bought a new computer (and a cool game to run on it), and
booked a flight for me and the kids to Colorado in May.

Because, guess what, kids? The Man is GRADUATING!!!!! Finally!!!!!

That's right, 20 years after my college graduation, and about 18 years after first starting college himself, my husband will have his degree. And I am going to be there to make darn good and sure it actually happens. So far, things are looking promising. And there was much rejoicing.

After graduation, TM plans to head back to the South, where the livin' is easy (or at least cheap) and the unemployment rate is better than most places. He may end up being a middle-school teacher, and that would be just fine. The boys are thrilled at the whole situation.

Yeah, we're working on working things out. My therapist has been a great help; we've been able to see her together several times when he's been out here for visits, and it's done more than our 6 months of marriage counseling elsewhere. I think the separation has been good for us.

At any rate, I know I'm feeling good these days.

Stress Ball

2009-03-03T21:29:00.003-07:00

Today I took the Punkin on an adventure (a really boring one, I warned him). We went to see my attorney. No, it's not what you're thinking, it's for my disability case. You remember WAY back in, oh, 2006, when I filed and was denied and appealed and they finally got around to letting me know they'd received my paperwork and would think about maybe setting a court date sometime in the (far, FAR) future?

Yeah, tomorrow's that date. Finally. But now I'm nervous.

Apparently we've got a judge who's cranky because he's divorced and he has a bitter prejudice against women who are no longer with their husbands. Disability is not the court for him. Few marriages make it out alive and healthy when one spouse is disabled, I hear. Dangit.

My realtor also emailed me to let me know that despite TM having attempted to file the quit claim deed, it was in fact messed up and therefore he still is involved in everything to do with the house. Things were looking so lovely, too.

And sometime before Monday (OK, it has to be Friday), I have to get Hepatitis A shots for both of my kids or they can't go to school anymore. Which would suit Pirate Boy fine. Do they still have truant officers?

Oy. It never rains but it pours.

Better News

2009-03-02T22:16:00.003-07:00

The buyers snapped up my counter-proposal, even though it was $8000 more than their original offer. Sweet! Now I've just got to wait until the end of April till we can close the deal. Whew!

Good News!

2009-02-28T23:15:00.002-07:00

I got an offer on my house! Woooohooooo!

The bad news is that if I took the offer, I'd end up with about $350 in pocket afterward. (Which I'd promptly have to hand over to my folks, and it obviously wouldn't even begin to pay them back for covering my mortgage payments the last 6 months.)

So... we'll be making a counter-offer, maybe even before my realtor goes out of town on Monday. (She said, "This kind of thing happens every time I go out of town!" I of course replied, "So why didn't you go out of town ages ago?" Ahem.)

The counter-offer is going to be a couple thousand above my asking price, because the buyers want me to pay their closing costs. Yeah, sure, no problem, if you pay me first. Weird system.

But I got an offer!

I Know I Don't Look Sick!

2009-02-25T20:56:00.004-07:00

But as Jen pointed out a few months back, that doesn't always enter into it. Herewith, The Spoon Theory. Be glad if it doesn't apply to you. I'm going to have to work out with a graph or something how to function from now on. (My note for today: "Write while eating lunch to maximize "up" time.") I just don't have enough spoons, and as Pirate Boy incessantly reminds me, the Blue and Gold Banquet is tomorrow. I was saving up my spoons for it, I really was, but they're gone now.

Reason #1: My kids steal them, constantly. Yesterday and today they stole a whole week's worth, between potty accidents and sassing and distracting each other and sassing and forgetting to come home from school and sassing...

Reason #2: Bullies. I hate school bullies, I have since I was a kid on the receiving end of their attention. I hate them way more now that my sweet son is the target. I'm terrified for him because a) small, emotional boys get worse treatment even than fat, ugly girls, and b) he knows no fear. ("Oh, sure, I can beat your whole gang in a fight..." No, honey, you can't. Just between you and me and the fire hydrant.)

Reason #3: Opium dependence. As distinct from addiction, which is (thankfully) recognized as a psychological phenomenon, dependence is when your body goes through physical withdrawal symptoms when it doesn't get enough of the drug. Unfortunately, "enough" isn't enough after a while, and the body demands more. Stupid thing. So sometimes I just deal with the burning nerves.

Reason #4: Migraines. I get them especially when my hormonal balance is upset, like when I have to take antibiotics, which negates my birth control pills, or when (as recently) I have to take steroid pills. (Explanation: No, I'm not going out for the major leagues; I had a violent allergic reaction to something unknown, and cortisone helps. Within a week, apparently.)

In fact, I started one series of migraines in January, about the time I became The Man's fantasy girl, "Scone the Librarian." (It's a long story, which I would have posted a month ago if, y'know, the migraine thing hadn't happened.) It was an unpaid internship that I worked for two part-days and was so completely wiped out I couldn't work again. Even on my paying job. So you know how that's going to turn out.

I might venture to add a Reason #5: Depression, but people in my family (even though half of them are on Prozac and its sister drugs) don't seem to think that's a valid excuse for anything, like having no energy. Let me say it for them, so they don't have to: "Whatever! Snap out of it! Get over it! Get off your lazy..." OK, that's enough.

So here I am, trying, albeit imperceptibly, to get the medical records and other documentation that I need for my SS Disability hearing, which is (hallelujah!) scheduled for next Wednesday, worrying constantly about the things I don't feel I can do anymore, and none the better off for it.

None of that will help my status as a mom, however, if I miss the banquet tomorrow, so I've got to go lie down. Enjoy the spoon I've given you.*

*Note to self: Ask Jen where she gets her spoons...

You Know...

2009-01-11T00:07:00.006-07:00

...you've got it bad when your therapist ends up in tears on your behalf. Or shouts, "That's a travesty! A total miscarriage of justice!" And she's really not the shouting type. Fortunately, it's all good grist for the story mill. If only I were awake enough to write. (Which obviously I'm not, but...)

I just want to tell you one little story. My folks have recently finished their basement in nouveau plushe; seriously, their bathroom alone is rated five stars. And today they started moving their stuff down there; I simply must post pictures one of these days. (They're going to live in the basement and let the kids and me have the upstairs, which is awfully nice of them.) Anyway, my mom mentioned that I wouldn't be able to move into the master bedroom right yet, 'cause they want to paint it first. OK, I said-- I mean, it's their house and all. Could we paint it a really nice color, I asked? No, said my mom, in all seriousness-- it's going to be dark red.

I think I busted a gut laughing. That, of course, was exactly the color I wanted. I can hardly wait.

Too Bad We Couldn't Keep Him

2008-12-29T22:50:00.001-07:00

Oh yeah, Santa dropped off another little present on Christmas morning. Here's #1 Son with the ecstatic younger brothers, who have been interrupted here in their attempt to impersonate clone troopers. I think they're a little excited.

Ho Ho Ho-lidays

2008-12-29T22:43:00.001-07:00

Guess what Santa brought to our house this Christmas?

I also want to note that there's nothing quite like cold air to bring out Punkin Boy's natural redheadedness. (How's that for a triple word score?)

Not What I Ordered

2008-12-15T23:56:00.005-07:00

I was going to post a few days ago about my back surgery. Specifically, that what I expected was to have a day or so to recover afterward, but life had other plans. Or, rather, my kids did. At about 3 a.m., I heard them shuffling down the hall with comments like "Aim for the toilet" from Pirate Boy and distressed whimpering from the Punkin. I struggled out of bed to find out what was going on; I hadn't seen them all day anyway. When I reached the bathroom, the Punkin was being sick to his stomach and Pirate Jones was-- not exactly holding his hair, since he hasn't got much, but definitely hovering solicitously. Adorably parental, that boy. We all spent the next 2 hours changing sheets/blankets/pillows/stuffed animals, running to the bathroom, and generally feeling miserable before Punkin Boy finally passed out and the rest of us were able to sleep. It wasn't what I expected, but it helped me to feel less sorry for myself as I focused on other people's problems.

Likewise today. I had expected to spend some time finishing up and turning in my Medicaid paperwork, then writing and revising a couple of articles for work, baking brownies for my friend who takes care of me when I'm recovering from surgery, and generally working my tail off. But no. The Man (TM) woke me with a phone call at 7:30. He was panicking over a call he'd gotten earlier that morning from a social worker who had decided that, due to his lack of sufficient income to provide for his child (at least to the degree that the boy would gain a prescribed amount of weight in X time), TM would no longer have the privilege of attempting to do so. In other words, #1 Son would no longer be living with his father, effective immediately. And if TM had a quibble with it, he could pay a lawyer and go to court-- and THEN have custody taken away officially. The boy didn't even get time to pack. Or say goodbye.

Suddenly my own immediate problems don't seem so big anymore. I'm betting that TM suddenly stopped worrying about his finals. And I wish so much that I could be there to give my husband a big, long hug.

Love a Llama

2008-12-04T17:58:00.003-07:00

This photo needs a little explanation. First, what my kids are making with their hands are not the "devil horns" of the headbanger, but various types of llama faces. (I think what we've got here are the "excited llama" and "crying llama," but I can't be sure.) My mom is, of course, making the ASL sign for "I love you." She was confused by the llamas, but after I explained, she got a twinkle in her eye. Holding up her hand with fingers parted in the middle, she quipped, "Vulcan llama."

((Snerk!)) No, I still can't think about it without giggling.

Home for the Holidays

2008-12-04T17:44:00.001-07:00

Hooray! Picasa's working again! Oh yeah, and my kids are super cute (when they're not making silly faces). This is the gingerbread house they (and I) made with The Man when he (TM) came out here for Thanksgiving weekend. It was pretty fun. And these guys have been really proud of themselves over it. They've even managed not to eat it yet, because they want to show it off to everyone. They really are growing up.

Writing Quote of the Day

2008-11-18T00:05:00.000-07:00

Stephen King wrote:

...stopping a piece of work just because it's hard, either emotionally or imaginatively, is a bad idea. Sometimes you have to go on when you don't feel like it...

Just Like Jen

2008-11-11T00:37:00.002-07:00

... I'm stopping in to say three words:

"Bad fibro day."

But now it has a name...

The Wanderer

2008-11-04T00:27:00.005-07:00

TM called tonight after I put the kids to bed. For once, he led with the big story:

"#1 Son ran away today."

I don't remember what I said. I do remember our whole life together flashing before my eyes. And the dead certainty that TM was doomed from this point forward.

He hastened to explain that the boy was not currently missing, and that nothing truly awful had happened during his little outing.

But he ran away.

He didn't even say why, except that "It felt like the right thing to do" ("Oh, that's ALL you," I told TM) and "I want to get a degree in mythology at Berkeley." Say what? That's all TM, too, but don't tell him that. And you simply cannot tell #1 Son that a guy who's currently repeating the seventh grade is not currently a candidate for any degree at Berkeley. Or any college worth its salt.

Not that I think much of it as an excuse, really. But it's interesting. If you ignore what he said and look only at what he did... the boy was walking west. You do the map.

Up to What Good?

2008-11-01T16:27:00.002-06:00

At 11/01/2008 4:12 PM, Jen said...: The concept always fascinates me, but I've never tried it. You'll have to tell us how it goes!

You know I will. I always do. I leave you with this quote from Vladimir Nabokov:

The pages are still blank, but there is the miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.

It's true. Now to get on with it.

And So It Begins Again...

2008-10-31T23:02:00.004-06:00

National Novel Writing Month, of course. Well, if you're me, it's "of course." Certain events this week have irrevocably confirmed that I am at heart a storyteller. It's just my nature, as the scorpion said. (Everyone who got that reference, pretend you didn't.)

After taking the kids 'treating tonight, I went to counseling and discussed this topic (the storytelling, not the scorpion) with my therapist. She said, "Well, that explains some things..." Then I went to a NaNoWriMo kickoff party and talked to some people who really understood what I was talking about. One of them had gotten her gown stuck in the car door on the way in, and we spent some time figuring out how she could work that little episode into her novel. It's what we do.

I love spending time with people who "get it." The rest of you, I apologize, but this next month is going to be all NaNo, all the time.

Pieces of Me

2008-10-24T23:29:00.005-06:00

I apologize for neglecting my dear blog friends lately. You all know about the ongoing chaos that brought me to where I am, and can probably guess how busy things are for me as a disabled single mom these days. Fortunately, I'm not alone in this; my folks have been awesome to step in and help when I'm incapacitated by the latest migraine or whatever.

Recent weeks have been full of trips to doctors and other specialists (courtesy of my dad, who is determined to get me cured somehow), so I've been pretty busy. Days like today, when I take "dizzy pills" and go in for medical procedures involving several needles, generally knock me down for the count. I am still loopy, but somehow I haven't got the message that I shouldn't try to work in this condition. (You would not believe the number of edits I've made in this post already. At least I still recognize errors when I see them.)

One of the docs I saw this week suspects I have fibromyalgia (I always wanted to be just like Jen!) and gave me some new meds to try. So I'm trying them. As invested as I am in this SS Disability case, I'd much rather have my health back. After all, like Count Rugen said, "If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything." More fun and games to follow, I have no doubt.

Long-Distance Love

2008-10-21T22:08:00.002-06:00

...going out to #1 Son tonight. It was his birthday today, but we weren't able to get hold of him. TM didn't answer his cell phone and hasn't given me his new home phone. Not sure we have the right address for them, either.

If you hear something, it's the sound of my heart breaking as I realize I've lost yet another son.

Scholar Mom

2008-10-04T23:01:00.003-06:00

I just need to brag for a minute:

Punkin Boy got Student of the Month his very first month in school!

That's gotta be a record or something.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Old Things Are New Again

2008-09-23T21:39:00.005-06:00

Maybe it was out of new-in-town loneliness, maybe it was boredom, or maybe it was the spam I got, but whatever the reason, I recently popped on over to Classmates.com. Most people have done it at some point or other, but I, at least, used to get pretty disgusted and bored within the first 5 minutes because you couldn't actually communicate with your friends. I mean, what's the point of knowing they're out there somewhere if you have to pay $30 to just send an email to see if they remember you? Come on... Even the new Facebook is WAY better than that.

Well, they've changed some things, and I'm starting to feel a little better about Classmates. You can leave messages on your own page, though you still can't see your own guest book or tell anyone how to contact you... well, not openly. Not if they catch you. But I digress.

I've been spending some time on Facebook lately, too. And I've found a few of my old friends on both sites. Some people I barely remembered, but the names rang a bell or two. As I've looked at their photos and other things they've posted, the memories have begun trickling back to me. With some people more than others. And it's interesting to see what's happened in their lives over the (many, many) years. (The swaggering Casanova got his master's degree? The obsessive knitter became a computer programmer? Who'd'a thought?)

As I pondered all this, wondering at times why I even bothered, I started to smile. It occurred to me that I was refreshing myself in the spring of my creativity. Writers know what I mean: every person and place and thing that we've ever known is stored in memory, waiting to come out to populate and furnish our stories. I have plenty of material. And now I have the tools to reach it. Can hardly wait for November.

In Retrospect: One Year

2008-09-08T22:57:00.005-06:00

One year ago this weekend, my beloved husband, the man of my dreams, the light of my life, broke my heart into bits and turned my life upside-down. Because I loved him so much and wanted so much for our family to stay together, I responded with compassion and forgiveness. I tried extra hard to be the best wife I could be; I obviously had plenty of flaws.

In response to my efforts, my husband closed himself off from me. I cried. A lot.

Weeks went by, and I started to wonder why I kept trying when he seemed so uninterested. I still wonder.

One night he slept in the basement and I found a note in a woman's handwriting giving directions to another woman's house. It could have been innocent. He says it might have been. He doesn't really know, though. Apparently, he's given up rational thought.

That was only the beginning of what I found. In the next 12 hours, I had enough to start divorce proceedings. But I didn't. I threw the bum out, and when he called later, I chewed him out, too.

And then I took him back. Well, he'd confessed and said sorry, he'd gotten medical and psychological treatment, and he'd actually taken some steps to return to being the man I loved. I thought he meant it. I really wanted it to work.

It's not that I don't know that wishing doesn't make it so. I do. But it was more than wishing, I thought.

We started marriage counseling in January, and he started experimenting with his meds. I could tell instantly when he wasn't taking them, but he didn't see the difference. Therapy went poorly as he remained uncommunicative and unapologetic. "It's in the past!" he'd say, "Can't we just move on?"

I hear that's a typical cry of unfaithful husbands. I hate that I had to hear it from mine.

But I kept trying. My beautiful little boys kept me trying to hold the marriage together, no matter what. Seeing what #1 Son has gone through with his divorced parents over the past 11 years kept me resolutely opposed to putting my babies in that position, ever. I'd suffer if I had to, but I couldn't let that happen to them.

Finally, I realized that I couldn't shield them anymore. For starters, I overheard Pirate Boy saying to his little brother, "Daddy's a little crazy." More than once. And my husband was neglecting not only his family, but his work and school. When he did work, half the time the money never saw our bank account. It was getting desperate.

But you know what? I could have dealt with all that if only...

...if only my husband still loved me.

But he doesn't, and I can't take it anymore. I just can't.

And yet... like a hopelessly romantic idiot, I'm giving him one last chance. He has one year. One year to become the man the children and I need him to be. One year to be a decent husband and father. One more year.

Think it'll happen?

Real Life Adventures

2008-09-05T16:14:00.004-06:00

It doesn't seem like it's been that long since I last wrote. But in the last 10 days or so, my little Punkin has had a great beginning to kindergarten-- and I think has learned that he does not actually ride the bus home from school. Pirate Jones is having a terrific time in 3rd grade-- not only learning cursive (which he's doing great at), but going beyond the keyboard's home row. They have typing class every day. And he loves it. Cool.

As a bonus, we got to experience serious small-town life over Labor Day weekend. Every year, this little town (much bigger now than it was when my grandparents lived here) has this agricultural celebration whose name I'd tell you but it pops right up on Google, so never mind. But there's a parade, a carnival, fireworks, a floral show, an art contest (in which this year my dad usurped his brother for the Honorable Mention prize), and all manner of very serious silliness. I don't have to tell you, the kids loved it. And I really enjoyed being able to sit out on the back steps in the cool evening air and watch the brilliant fireworks explode over the town park. Awesome stuff.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to keep up with my weekly deadlines, which isn't too hard given the slowdown in one project and the slacking writers on the other one. (OK, I need to get the whip cracking on them; I'm slacking, too.) I got my car registered on Wednesday (with both kids in tow, which ought to earn me a medal the way they were acting) and am feeling pretty good about that.

Thursday was an adventure. I walked the kids to school like I usually do, enjoying the cool weather and the sunshine, and was most of the way back when-- it sounds melodramatic-- I was attacked by a pack of dogs. Now, it wasn't a huge deal. I mean, they were small dogs and it was a small pack of them. I basically ignored them until a little Doberman-thing bit me. At that point, I had to face them down. "What the ---- do you think you're doing?" My next thought was how glad I was that the kids were at school. If they'd been around, I'd have had to wring some little dog necks, and I'd hate to have my boys see that.

I'd just barely showered and changed into less hole-y pants when I heard my phone go off and discovered a voice mail rejecting me for the condo I wanted up on the hill. Well, rats. Now, it's still possible that I can get into the (low-income) apartment that my cousin's just moving out of, less than a mile from my folks' place. That would be sweet. Here, the "low income" housing is well cared-for and gorgeous. Three bedrooms, three baths, manicured lawns and all. I'll let you know how that turns out. I am on a waiting list, after all.

When I went back to the school to take Pirate Jones some clean clothes (don't even ask), I mentioned the dog situation to the front office people, and maybe they passed it along, I don't know. Today I drove the kids to school and noticed several moms walking their kids and (leashed but alert) dogs along the route. I've been tempted to tell my kids what a cool thing happened just around the corner, but I don't want them to be afraid to walk in this neighborhood too. I'll just stick with them... and maybe take a stick with me.

Passing Time

2008-08-26T23:56:00.004-06:00

(That one's for you, Nyssa.)

For those of you who were wondering, we're here. ("We are here, we are here, we are HERE!" to quote a Seuss.) We've been here for, oh, 10 days or so; no troubles making the trip, and only a few of them trying to fit all our worldly possessions into my parents' garage.

"We," by the way, is three: the Pirate, the Punkin, and me. TM and #1 Son remained behind to sabotage any hope of us getting our house sold (you only think I'm kidding). And this week, #1 Son is left behind almost all the time as TM goes to work and school. Child Protective Services have already stopped by, of course.

Strangely, out of all this, I find that having my children settled in school is the most important thing to me. Pirate Boy (who's really more interested in Indiana Jones these days) started 3rd grade last week and is loving it. His teacher is awesome.

And the big news of course is that my (not so) little Punkin is off to kindergarten in less than 9 hours. His teacher is already bragging about him. He's fine; I'm a little nervous. Guess I'd better take my own advice and get some sleep before the big day.

More later.

Busy as...

2008-08-08T22:06:00.003-06:00

Holy cow. Not only have I been madly cleaning and (when it's not raining) painting the house, but now I'm packing frantically. A week from today, I'll be heading west with my children to our new home in time for them to start school. Meanwhile, I've got a lot to do.

Once this is all over, I'll probably check into a hospital for the pain I'm inflicting on my back. Don't have time now, though. Life is nothing if not interesting.

This Time...

2008-07-31T21:55:00.004-06:00

...you really wouldn't believe it. The thing I came home to. Really, truly, oh-my-gosh-what-happened-to-my-house time. The exterior I'm not going to mention, except that what wasn't dead (lawn) was overgrown (mostly weeds). I've spent today working on painting the trim, which was supposed to be taken care of, watering the lawn and battling the rosebushes. BUT...

...when I came through the door last night after my trip through the nothing of Wyoming, the inside of the house looked like a tornado had hit it. (It still mostly does, since I mostly worked outside today.) Seriously, there was barely any room for one person to walk in here. And the beds and other surfaces were covered with... stuff. Junk, toys, old clothes that were in the basement... just stuff.

So here we are, at bedtime, greeted by TM wearing a bathrobe and offering the kids cupcakes, while I try to clear space for them to sleep. The month's mail was on the dining table, unopened. Including our utility bill, which is 10 days overdue, and all our other bills. There was something unidentifiable in the kitchen sink; it had obviously been rotting there for at least a couple of weeks. And the only milk in the fridge was long past its date.

Here's what you really won't believe. Even when I looked around at the disaster, smelled the atrociousness, and had to fight for a place to step, I did not actually turn around and say, "I cannot live in this filth!"

But I did think it really loud.

It's like he wants me to leave him for good next time.

As Time Goes By

2008-07-15T23:26:00.003-06:00

Now it has really been a week, and I'm feeling a little sad that so much of our vacation is over. Feeling a little annoyed, too, that I can't get Picasa to let me log in and post pics on here. 'Cause boy, my kids are cute, and they have been having so much fun lately.

Getting into a world of trouble, too, some days. We still don't know what bit Pirate Boy on our last day of camping (Saturday), but whatever it was, it made his eye swell shut and his arm swell up like a balloon, and it was pretty sad to see. Once again my wonderful dad came to the rescue, taking care of him so well and then taking him to a doctor (who said we'd been doing all the right things anyway).

So now Pirate Boy is well again and going a mile a minute for more hours of the day than normal. Did you know the sun stays up later here? Well, there aren't all those pesky mountains to block its light here. Not so many, anyway. So we stay up late, eat lots of good stuff (pizza and ice cream tonight), play and swim and explore and visit... My kids had their first visit to a movie theater today-- Kung Fu Panda, I'm sorry to say. But they enjoyed it, so it was worth the trip.

And somehow, I made my deadline today and am more or less keeping current on my work. Which is good because we have lots more planned for the next couple weeks. After that, I have no plans at all, and that's kind of scary. I guess I'll cross that narrow, rickety bridge when I come to it.

Meanwhile, the phone at my house hasn't been ringing this week, according to TM. And even the answering machine isn't giving him clues about when we're calling. At least, he's not answering tonight. Well, we've always got email...

Wild Boys

2008-07-07T22:50:00.003-06:00

Hmm, first day of our vacation, and it feels like it's already been a week. I'd say "You would not believe the day I've had," but you probably would. It started... well, really, it started last night when we finally rolled into town (the one my folks live in) sometime after 10 p.m. after a wild and wet trek across Wyoming and a pause to run shrieking around the yard with my tiniest niece, Little Cat, who was thrilled to have her mama cat home after 3 days.

To my boys, who had spent the day in Grandpa's car, Grandma's house was "paradise." Apparently paradise is a place with big fluffy beds to jump on and a computer in your room. Possibly to use in your sleep. So after locating jammies and calling to tell Daddy (TM) goodnight, my kids hit the sheets around midnight. Not to say they actually fell asleep then. Pah.

Well, I agree about the fluffy beds, though I did more of a pass out than anything else on it. And good thing, too, 'cause just after 6:30 this morning, I heard Pirate Boy's sweet voice floating through the bedroom door: "Mama, somebody threw up in my bed last night!" Oh joy. "OK, I'm up." They slept in, after all.

Apparently long car trips, lots of junk food, and late nights in combination really don't agree with my Punkin. He was a sick little man most of the day. Between cleaning up after that and dealing with the various plumbing and medical emergencies we managed to inflict during the day, my poor dad didn't accomplish much else today. Fortunately, he likes to feel needed.

Also fortunately, Pirate Boy entertains himself pretty well. Before my folks were even out of bed this morning, he had created a new user account for himself on the den computer and installed his LEGO Indiana Jones game on it. Before dinner, he had played all the way through Raiders of the Lost Ark. And run around like a monkey with his cousin Darla. And eaten my folks out of house and home. And played outside on the swingset for hours on end.

I called TM this evening to tell him about our amazing day, but first I asked how he was doing. "What a day!" he exclaimed. "You, too, huh?" Yeah, he'd shown up for the first day of a 4-week job only to be told "Oops, we changed our mind. Didn't anyone call you?" Um, no. So he spent most of the day job-hunting and being sick to his stomach. (He & the Punkin are psychically linked, I tell you.)

As I was talking to him, I was dressing the boys for bed (multi-taskers unite-- when we can get a minute). It went OK for a minute or two, then I got Punkin's shirt off him. What the heck is he doing covered with red welts? Looks like an allergic reaction, though my folks first thought it was measles. ("No way, he's had all his shots!") Yeah. So I handed the phone to Pirate Boy and ran off to deal with that.

Sigh. Just another day with the Wild Bunch.

So now everyone's gone to bed except me. I'm up editing and doing laundry like a good responsible mama. (Yes, I already have a whole batch--more, actually-- of laundry to do on our first day here. And yes, that's after we washed the sheets and blanket from the wild boys' bed.)

It's not exactly what I expected, but I'm glad I'm here.

Keeping You Posted

2008-07-01T23:25:00.002-06:00

Just a couple of quick items. First (and most important), my Pirate Boy has turned 8 and will be baptized this Saturday by his grandpa. For reasons most of you are familiar with, this is a really painful situation for me, but I'm trying to keep a joyful perspective for the sake of my darling boy. It may be painful for him, too. He certainly looked pained when he asked, "But why can't Daddy baptize me?" He'd been really looking forward to the experience.

Second, the kids and I will be leaving town the next day for a longish stay with my family. We're very much hoping that our home and at least some of our life will still be here for us when we return. But there's no way to know at this point.

A Little Announcement

2008-06-26T00:12:00.002-06:00

... on behalf of my dear sister Sylvia, who has (you may have noticed) been missing from blogland for the past several months. I haven't heard from her much myself, what with her crazy schedule and my crazy everything, but...

She called tonight to announce the birth of the newest denizen of Neverland: a healthy baby boy delivered (finally!) by c-section, much to the relief and pride of all involved. And there was much rejoicing.

She's So Darn Predictable

2008-06-23T16:27:00.005-06:00

Well, Satan did exactly what I said she would, within a few hours of hearing about her boy flunking. Down to saying the school was too hard and rejecting the notion that it was just as possible for her boy to pass as it is for mine. (Well, you know, it's not as hard for second-graders as for seventh-graders! No, um, comparatively, it is. Exactly as hard.)

So she's got a lawyer on the case, and she's outlined her demands, which she (and probably everyone she knows, except us) thinks are completely reasonable. And she's reminded TM that he has no money to fight her on it. I hate that woman. She's completely predictable, like the vulture that came and ate Prometheus' liver every day. And there's just as little that we can do about her.

I asked TM what he thinks we can do. I'm all for putting our house up for sale, as-is, cheap, and getting what cash we can from it before the bank takes it away. The potential lawsuit is just another reason we need to. TM doesn't think so, so we're not. His plan is to get the transcript from our last court battle, which, as some people may remember, turned out so very well.

Then he asked me, "Do you remember what year that was?"

Ummm... yeah. Right down to the date and the hour. It was the turning point of my whole life, and you're asking me? Right.

Just don't ask me to do it again.

Lasting Impressions

2008-06-20T00:30:00.002-06:00

OK, I've had a chance to do some analysis on the kids' report cards ('cause that's what I do; I can't help myself) and some reflection on our life. Pirate Boy does have overall great grades, and #1 Son does have overall lousy ones. But the year's worth of grades tell a sad story.

Even accounting for the week of strep they both had this spring that set them back in their homework, both kids' grades slipped after last fall. More specifically, after the relationship between TM and me went to hell last fall. And kept slipping.

Dang. Maybe #1 Son would be better off with Mommy dearest after all.

I'm gonna cry.

Miracle of Miracles

2008-06-19T21:11:00.002-06:00

Got the kids' report cards today. Finally, someone has done the necessary yet unpleasant deed: #1 Son will be repeating seventh grade next year. Hallelujah. Now of course Satan will be militantly trying to get him transferred to her obviously superior care because the school we've had him in is simply not teaching him.

It's inconceivable that he's simply not learning what they're trying to teach, or-- as is painfully apparent to everyone in this area-- that he's learning but not bothering to do the assignments that would allow him to pass. After all, the other schools he's been to have passed him every year whether he does anything or not.

And why do we not have him in those schools anymore? Anyone?

Think the current school is too hard? Well, it has been in the top 3 ranked schools in the state since its inception, and it does have rigorous standards of academics and behavior. But it's certainly not impossible to do well there. (Says Pirate Boy's proud mama, looking at all those A's on his report card.)

Several of the 7th grade teachers bothered to write notes on the grade sheet, along these lines: "#1 Son does well on tests but doesn't turn in homework." One goes so far as to say he gets A's on every test, participates well in class, obviously knows his stuff, but has turned in only one assignment for the year. So.... it's fail time.

And it's about time, too.

My So-Called Life

2008-06-07T23:51:00.003-06:00

Got an email today from my long-lost friend MJ, who's currently in transit from Budapest to Bangkok; it made me smile. We went to spy school together ages ago when we were both young and ... not exactly naive, but much less experienced than we are now. And with less gray in our hair. (Sigh.)

MJ asked me to send the URL for my blog again, so I did, but then I realized it had been a while since I updated. Well, I thought, that will give her a chance to catch up on the last few major catastrophes in my life. But I couldn't do that to her. So here's a short update. Well, that was most of it, honestly. ;-)

In other news, I've got some new clothes! Well, OK, I got these clothes last fall from my dear sister Sylvia, in a care package she sent when my life was falling apart. Most of the clothes fit fine, but a few of them (mostly jeans) were just too tight. So I set them aside wistfully and had a great time wearing the other stuff. But just lately the other stuff (including things I've been wearing since before Pirate Boy was born) has gotten too big. As in, falling off me, big. And I'm plenty big myself. So I decided, what the heck. I got out the "small" stuff. Zipped up those jeans on the first try. That was a couple weeks back. Now the "small" jeans are getting big on me, too.

Can someone please tell me why? Bizarro world is my new life.

Which reminds me, the marriage counselor doesn't want to see both of us together anymore until we're "on the same page" about why we're going to therapy. Although I agree with her diagnosis, I'm not sure about her methods. Maybe a new counselor.

Bloody Weather

2008-05-22T22:54:00.004-06:00

Yeah, it's been a weird weather day, as you may have heard. Twisters everywhere, power outages, school lockdowns, hail-battered cars. One of the guys TM's working with this week heard the following from a friend in a bit of a quandary: "I tried to go to work, but when I got there the building was gone. So I went home-- well, I tried to..." You guessed it, that was gone, too.

On the other hand, TM got out of work early. And our therapist canceled our appointment tonight. ("Marriage Counseling Called on Account of Tornadoes" makes an awesome headline, don't you think?) But since we had a sitter already, we got to have a date-- a REAL date. We saw Indiana Jones 4 and it was heaven. (Me: "Cate Blanchett?! Really?!") And the kids had fun, too. So it was good for us.

[P.S. I totally wanna be Cate Blanchett.]

Tears Me Up

2008-05-09T18:51:00.001-06:00

Heart breaking. But not in an entirely bad way.

Feeling Weird

2008-05-08T21:27:00.005-06:00

I am in such a bad mood; I shouldn't even be writing in public, though writing is what I need to do when I feel this rotten. I've already played several pieces on the piano, and I think my family is about ready for me to be done. I'd go for a walk but there's a thunderstorm out there. Bleah.

We were supposed to go to counseling tonight, but... well, things fell through as they are wont to do when we have no sitter. That's OK; we were scheduled to evaluate our options at tonight's session, which promised to be ugly, ugly, ugly.

TM's been passed out for most of the day/evening. The doc gave him a muscle relaxant and apparently he got a little too relaxed. Looks like I'm going to be the only functioning adult in this house for a while. (...Comment deleted...)

Cool news from my cousin, though. (No, not that cousin-- my other cousin.) Ryan's got a new movie coming out this summer (made by some guys I went to school with). Maybe he'll get his own IMDb page now, too. Sweet!

Is It Spring Yet?

2008-05-07T17:48:00.004-06:00

I feel like one of those poor plants outside, starting to put my head up just slightly, then getting beaten down by the torrents or frozen solid by the snow. Half of last month, I had this nasty migraine, but I started to feel better eventually, and the weather was turning nice. Then one by one, the kids and I got struck down by some disease or other. There was coughing, aching, tummy yucks-- a lot like we had earlier in the winter.

I could tell the time by when the little Punkin would start screaming in pain as the medicine wore off. When that stage hit me, I understood. I wanted to scream, too. Probably would have if I'd had any of my voice left. But no, Punkin and I had laryngitis for most of the month. He's still got it, in fact, though he'll tell you (hoarsely) that he's got his "full voice back." Sweet thing.

Eventually, it got so incredibly bad that we went to the doctor. (Lack of insurance does awful things to people, doesn't it?) Well, doctors. Three doctors, five strep tests, four rounds of antibiotics: $300. Being able to actually swallow again: priceless.

Well, at least there's the tax rebate coming. That ought to cover it.

Did I mention yesterday? TM crashed our car-- or, more accurately, someone else crashed into it, and him. The cost of that is forthcoming. I wished they'd total the darn thing. It needs new brakes and tires, and we can't afford either, and we can't afford to be without them. Sigh.

I think I'll just stay down here in the dirt. It's comfortable here.

Mixed Blessings

2008-04-17T19:04:00.003-06:00

Ha, what was I thinking? The migraine's on day 11, with a dollop of sinus pressure thrown in. We were supposed to go to marriage counseling again tonight, and again we have no sitter and I'm sick. The kids are well now, though, so I sent TM by himself. We'll see if he actually tells the counselor anything pertinent (like what we were fighting about last night, for instance). Or, rather, I'll never know. Sigh.

But there are other things to care about. Last night, my little sis and her family stopped by on their way back from house-hunting in the Midwest. (They caught a beauty, too!) Within an hour of their arrival at our house, before I could even get some dinner into them, Little Cat had taken a nose-dive off my boys' pirate bed and broken her tiny little arm. It didn't seem like it was that bad at first, and really it could have been a lot worse. Fortunately for Little Cat, her daddy's a vet-in-training, so he had control of the situation right away.

I still felt horrible. The poor little thing cried for hours even after getting the splint and sling on. Even after they got some of the codeine into her. Even after she should have long since exhausted all her energy and her voice. She was so frustrated that she couldn't use her right hand-- especially to suck her thumb for comfort. Sigh. I don't think either of her parents got a wink of sleep all night in our freezing-cold basement (because of course it snowed again).

I sound like such a whiner. I really am glad it wasn't worse, and that we were able to get her some medical care and medicine before everything closed for the night. Mama Cat just called to say they got home safely, which I'm very thankful for. More later, when the blue spots go away...

Currently

2008-04-09T20:49:00.003-06:00

I have 3 days' worth of work stacked up. I'm also just finishing/finished (I hope) a 3-day migraine and a 3+-day root canal. I feel like I've got a 72-hour virus. So instead of working, I'm goofing off. Go ahead, call me a slacker. I'll slap you when I can see straight again.

I Will Not...

2008-04-03T00:45:00.001-06:00

...allow the phrase "brains God gave a flea" to escape my lips. No matter how tempted...

Bloody Hell

2008-03-27T12:54:00.007-06:00

OK, it's not quite that bad, but you remember that root canal? Oh yeah. Went in Monday, spent 90 minutes in the chair, got what seemed like 90 shots to keep me numb ('cause I react badly to novocaine, as some of you may recall), and had a gallon of liquid sodium spilled in my mouth (ACK!), only to have the doc say, "I can't finish this in one session; you'll have to come back." Right.

So I left, my aching tooth stuffed with cotton and my twisted mouth unable to even sip through a straw. I scheduled the rest of my procedure for Wednesday and put off the appointment for getting a crown until later. Much later.

Wednesday, I only spent an hour in the chair, still got a lot of shots, but at least didn't end up gagging on sodium. The doc jabbed and poked and drilled and finally said, "I can't do this one; I'm sending you to a specialist." Argh.

Once again, numb face, twisted mouth, aching tooth full of cotton-- and no resolution.

Come to think of it, that sounds a lot like our marriage counseling sessions.

Darkest Before the Dawn

2008-03-23T00:43:00.001-06:00

This is what it's looking like here, the night before Easter:

Lessons Learned

2008-03-20T15:58:00.004-06:00

We're on Spring Break here. Which means that most of us are home most of the time, and that's cool. Mostly. With some actual time and resources (i.e., tax refund that came in) on hand, I finally called the dentist. I finally got sick of this aching hole in my upper jaw and thought maybe I could get it fixed this week. Yeah.

Well, since the cavity had been festering for over 2 years while I had no insurance, it's not going to be a quick fix after all. Turns out that it's abscessing and will need a root canal and a crown now. Not to mention a week or 10 days' worth of nasty antibiotics to keep it from getting worse until they can fix it. Oh joy.

I'm not sure we have that much money after all. I am certain it would have been better to spend the $85 or $100 a couple years ago to get the small filling it would have taken to keep this from happening. So the lesson we take away from this week is, don't hesitate to look something ugly in the face as soon as you know it needs it. Because it will only get uglier if you wait. OK, that's also the lesson for the past 6 months, too.

Dashing Through...

2008-02-04T23:19:00.000-07:00

... the snow, yes, and a lot of other muck. So much going on lately. So much I want to write about. No time. Cold cold cold. Sick kids, sick husband, sick self. Over and over. Lots of work to do, no money to pay any bills at all. Creditors calling. Maybe help will come in time. Borrowing medicine from the neighbors. Finding out that I'm not crazy after all. Having writers yell at me and bosses praise me. Realizing that I'm actually better off than some people. Feeling guilty about being so miserable. Whatever whatever. Goodnight. More later.

Stepping Out

2008-01-22T23:33:00.000-07:00

So The Man and I are going out every week now. For marriage counseling. At the college. With a cute young thing named "HAHnnah" (well, that's how she says it). It might work. Anyone got a babysitter I can borrow?

Midnight Musings

2008-01-11T21:34:00.001-07:00

Yes, I am still here. This time of year is always mentally draining for me. I usually stop and review where I've been, where I am and generally whether I'm on the right path.

This past year of course was... hard. Extra hard. And the news from last time didn't help. It represented a little bell ringing from my past life. And a nagging fear that I should have been there. I shouldn't have given up my old career in favor of my family. I could have helped. I should have... maybe.

But then I remember things like the recent escape of a dangerous criminal from a hospital in my former town back east. Apparently it's not uncommon there these days. And there was the sniper a few years ago, same area.

I really thought I had resolved all these second thoughts after 9/11. Eventually. It was another case of "I should have been there... I could have been there..." Then of course, I realized that if I had been there, I could have been dead.

So let's say we're OK where we are. At least I'm alive to be impoverished, crippled and unemployed. And I have some awesome people in my life. And who knows, maybe things will be OK after all.

More later.

Dark Day

2007-12-27T16:21:00.000-07:00

I had a few things I was going to post about, but this day has been... well, weird. It's blizzarding here, which is always unnerving. And I've got migraines and other monthly yuckiness, but whatever. I was still recovering from getting almost no sleep last night, and waking up to find the boys had trashed the house with not just one but two science kits before 8 a.m., somehow.

But then I discovered that there's a hole in the world today. And it's anybody's guess what's going to fill it, besides violence and death. I mourn for the passing of a heroic and admirable woman. I hope you can rest in peace, Benazir. I weep for your country...

OK, You've Been Good...

2007-12-26T17:13:00.000-07:00

...And I promised I'd give you the answer, so here you go. (Drumroll:) That picture is now about 6 weeks old. It's amazing what you can do with crop and B/W. The cat-eye glasses I wear gave me the idea. I feel like an escapee from the 60's.

As for the guesses-- hee hee. Thanks, guys. Just for comparison, let me say, that photo in my sidebar is me about 15 years ago. This photo was taken on a family trip 20 years ago:

(That's me in the middle; yeah, dig the crazy blue 80's eyeshadow. For Renee: my youngest sister is the one hiding her eyes. The other one is about 3 years older. Twenty years ago, our mom would have been the right age for the mystery photo.)

And finally, this is the original of the picture you've been wondering about:

The Scone clan in all our glory. Hope you all had a marvelous Christmas.

Speaking of Age...

2007-12-19T17:18:00.000-07:00

How old do you think this photo is? C'mon, just guess...

Feel free to guess who it is, too. (This offer void for anyone who's seen it before.)

I'll post the right answer later.

Does This Site Make Me Look Old?

2007-12-19T15:04:00.000-07:00

A couple nights ago, there was a headline on MSN.com about older women getting breast enhancement surgery. OK, this is not interesting in itself, and I wouldn't even have seen it if I didn't have Hotmail to sign out of. But what leapt out at me was the headline and tagline they used for this article. To wit:

"Bigger Breasts for Boomers?
Women over 40 going in for enhancement..."

Um, excuse me? Let's have a quick history and pop culture lesson, shall we? A) "Boomer" = Baby boomer generation; i.e., the large number of children born to soldiers returning home from World War II (not, I repeat, NOT from Vietnam). B) WWII ran from 1939 (or 41 if you're American) to 1945-ish. So the boomers started being born around 1946. C) "Over 40" these days is someone who was born in 1966 or before. And D) in case anyone still hasn't figured out what the problem is:
1966
- 1946
-------
20 years (that is, a generation)
My *mom* is a Baby Boomer. And while, yes, she is "over 40," she's also over 60 (or will be in a couple weeks).

So what does that make me and other 40-ish types? Check it out on Wikipedia if you don't believe me. There are also other sources out there. Point is, I'm not hallucinating when I remember being in that generation that people still insist is in its 20s. Especially people at MSN. (A search on their site reveals that this article isn't an aberration; the mistake is chronic. I think I'll send them my resume; they seriously need an intelligent editor.)

Punkin Presents

2007-12-17T13:24:00.000-07:00

We got two boxes of Christmas presents today. Hooray! It's almost more than Punkin Boy can bear. I've lost count of the times I've heard, "When can we open the presents, Mama?" but it's a lot. Just today. Does anybody here remember the first picture of Pirate Boy I posted, where he was wearing this sweatsuit? My babies are growing up...

And yes, that is a large orange pumpkin there in the background. Our neighbors have a small pumpkin patch, and we've been cooking with the orange stuff a lot lately. I found a good cookie recipe on the 'net the other day, and I think I've finally got the hang of making the bread. Anybody else got a favorite pumpkin recipe?

I mentioned the pumpkin thing to my folks the other day, so in the package we received from them today were all sorts of non-pumpkin baking supplies. Double and triple hooray! I have the best parents ever.

What's Up

2007-12-12T19:14:00.000-07:00

Sick again. Don't know whether this has anything to do with the additional foot of snow we got this week, but maybe... Missed writer's group again because of it. They're gonna think I don't love them anymore.

#1 Son is at his first jujitsu exhibition tonight. He's already an orange belt, or is it brown? He's gotten both, I just can't remember which is which. All this as part of the wonderful school we send the kids to. I totally love it.

As I mentioned a while ago, we got a photo taken of our family, enough to send to all our friends and relatives. The photo cost $10; now we can't afford postage. I feel pretty silly. Well, eventually TM will get a job and we'll have some money again. Really. I have to believe it.

Speaking of my dear husband, he interviewed a couple weeks ago for a job that would be absolutely perfect for him-- and would pay twice what he could get around here. (Yeah, it's quite far away, and I don't know how we'd arrange the transportation, but we would. They'd let him telecommute most of the time "once he's settled in" so it would totally be worth it.)

We did take a test drive of a really spiffy new-model SUV recently; the dealership was offering restaurant gift cards. The sales guy was new, so he didn't remember to ask whether we could actually finance a new car before our test drive. Nope, sorry, no income means no sale. Sorry. This is one time when "no" is not the start of the sale.

Don't know what else. I've had a lot on my mind and have mentally composed several posts recently, but I can't remember what about. Maybe it'll come back later. Stay tuned.

Life as We Know It

2007-12-05T14:25:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm still here. And yes, we're still surviving. I suspect my subconscious of hiding things from me; I always have the nagging feeling that I should be worried or upset about something. But we're moving on with our lives, trying our best to keep the love uppermost in our actions and trying not to let our physical and financial circumstances get us down. Mostly we win. So it's all good.

Today's Weather

2007-11-21T23:28:00.000-07:00

Y'know, usually our snow season is *ending* right about now.

Huzzah!

2007-11-21T23:27:00.000-07:00

The Scone household performs synchronized spoon surgery on the season's last squashes. Shortly to become pumpkin pies, cookies, breads, and possibly a nice set of earmuffs.

Getting Better

2007-11-17T21:22:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm mostly over the cold. Which is good, because The Man and the little pirates have it now, and I'm on call.

I'm not getting very far with my NaNo thing, but that's OK. It's Year 3, which is always the most miserable year anyway. And I'm not completely losing, just oh, about halfway to where I should be by now. The important thing is that I'm making a start on the script to the new musical.

And, um... Pirate Boy won a "Nobel Prize" the other day for a machine he built for 2nd grade science fair. Cool huh? He dismantled it before I could get a picture, though, darn him.

Speaking of pictures, we got a family photo taken last Saturday for the first time since Pirate Boy was a baby. Well, we got about 30 of them taken. One of them wasn't entirely horrible. So we bought it.

What else? It's cold here. Nasty cold. Can it seriously be late November already?

Sick This Week

2007-11-15T15:02:00.000-07:00

Too sick to blog. Too sick to write my NaNo novel (which anyway sucks way worse than last year's). Too sick to do much of anything but lie in bed, though I occasionally crawl to the computer to check email. The Man promises he won't get sick until after I'm healthy again. I'm trying, really I am.

Otherwise, things are still going well. So I totally come out ahead here.

Chica Chica Boom Boom

2007-11-06T22:49:00.000-07:00

Overheard at my house:

#1 Son: I want to make a present for my girlfriend.
[The Man and I exchange smirks. This will be his first.]
Pirate Boy: [startled] Girlfriend?! ... [thinks for a moment] I've got lots of those already.
TM: [singing] I'm the daddy of the Mack... Daddy...

And Punkin Boy? Quoth he: "Without us, the chicas got no boom!"

BWA HAHAHA HAHAHA!

I love our kids.

More Smiles

2007-11-05T19:25:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry for the overkill. I just can't get enough of the happiness going on here. Wow. (And yeah, that's totally The Man with Punkin. I lost count of how many weird looks I got from people at the party: "Who is that guy with her? And why are they holding hands?" The things I do for love.)

Happy Family

2007-11-05T11:37:00.000-07:00

I can't even begin to express how wonderfully things have changed for our family lately. The love just between The Man and the kids is awesome to see.

And the smiles! I love the smiles! So happy. I'm so happy.

Punkins at the Park

2007-11-05T11:14:00.000-07:00

So, we took our boys to play at the park the other day.

They'd been feeling cooped up and were glad to get out. They climbed...

...investigated the use of seesaws to demonstrate a lever and fulcrum setup (Pirate Boy is working on simple machines in school)...

...and then they took a ride on the tire swing (Daddy-powered).

Wheee! They had fun!

But boy, then they started winding down...

Didn't even bother to get off the swing. Totally tuckered punkins.

Halloween Fun

2007-10-31T13:32:00.000-06:00

Punkin Boy dressed up as a cowpoke for the church "Fall Social and Trunk or Treat" (OK, so it was a Halloween party). Looking very cute and grown-up here.

What happens when you teach a Pirate Boy martial arts... Devilishly handsome, isn't he? (My sword is a little bit big for him still, I think.)

#1 Son opted to sleep instead of go to the party... he regretted it later. So no pictures of him today.

The Drugs Are Good

2007-10-29T14:55:00.000-06:00

That was the pronouncement from a friend of a friend who finally got onto antidepressants. And it's been frequently heard around this area since The Man got onto Prozac last week.

I've been a big fan of Prozac since spring of '91, when it turned me from a bad-tempered, suicidal slug (only a slight exaggeration) into someone I'd never been before: someone who smiled and laughed and got things done and had so much to look forward to. And it happened instantly, for which I've always been grateful.

The Man has been an anti-fan of all kinds of medications for as long as I've known him, so it was hard for him to face taking pills long-term. The doctors all say it may take 3 to 5 weeks for the meds to reach full effect, and I was seriously worried that it really would in this case. I couldn't be sure he'd actually keep taking them if he didn't notice a difference soon.

But my fears were unfounded. He went from Mr. Hyde back to Dr. Jekyll in about 60 seconds. And there he has stayed. Still an off-the-wall brainiac, with no signs of the wild beast he'd been and no inclination to do evil apparent. My husband is back! The drugs are good.

On a Lighter Note

2007-10-25T09:34:00.000-06:00

There's nothing quite as cute as Punkin Boy tippy-tapping on the laptop while he sings "White and Nerdy." Dude!

Boot to the Head

2007-10-23T22:30:00.000-06:00

First, I just want to say that I was justified in never wanting to experience the life of a single mom. It is HARD. Fortunately, I was practically living that life already, so it's not been too shocking a transition. ;-)

Second, I want everyone to know that I feel better now than I've felt in months. It's such a relief not to be living with that rabid animal that was pretending to be my husband.

Third, and most important, I'm cautiously optimistic that the judicious application of a boot to the head and keister of my dearly beloved husband was just the wake-up call he needed to get rid of the rabies. Yes, it's abominable that it took something so severe, but no other method was working. This one seems to have. Take a look at his blog and see what you think. I'm hopeful that things can get back to good again.

The boot stands at the ready, though. And I'm not giving him a key to my house anytime soon. Must make it safe first.

Done, Done, Done

2007-10-19T17:51:00.000-06:00

Well, I had to do it without the combat boots, and I couldn't stop myself from slapping his lying, cheating face, but he's gone. And I'm getting the locks changed tonight. And sleeping with one eye open and my fingers on the phone. The Man I know would never hurt me or the kids, he certainly wouldn't cheat on his wife or endanger his family, but The Man I know isn't here anymore. I wonder if he even exists still.

Hell Hath No Fury

2007-10-19T15:29:00.000-06:00

Well, I found more answers. With pictures, even. I really wish I hadn't.

That's not true. I just wish the answers weren't what they are.

Note to Incrediboy: "Who I am" is a former spy. Never forget that.

Bang! Gotcha...

2007-10-19T14:43:00.000-06:00

Oh I so want to swear. But I won't. I must be nice. I must absolutely not go to this house and get some answers about where my husband's been lately. But if any of you guys do, be sure to give the woman who lives there Elastigirl's regards. (And don't say a thing about tactical nukes; you'll ruin the surprise.)

Gimme an "E"!

2007-10-13T23:27:00.000-06:00

I've been having kind of a rough time lately, as you can probably tell. Crying a lot, very confused about what to do next. But slowly, I'm recovering. For example, I've managed to get my eyelids to a more normal shape and color recently. What it took was a little help. When I needed to confront the problems in my first marriage, I had Tank Girl. This time, I saw the light one day when Punkin was watching this:

Helen: [sobbing] Now I'm losing him! What'll I do? What'll I do?
Edna: What are you talking about?
Helen: [stops crying] Huh?
Edna: [shouts] You are Elastigirl! My God...
[swatting Helen with a newspaper]
Edna: Pull-yourself-together! "What will you do?" Is this a question? You will show him that you remember that he is Mr. Incredible, and you will remind him who *you* are. Well, you know where he is. Go, confront the problem. Fight! Win!
[normal voice]
Edna: And call me when you get back, darling. I enjoy our visits.
~~~~~

I love E. She's so cool. I have managed to mostly snap out of it, though I still do have these crying jags. But all day, these words go through my head: "Remind him who you are!" Too bad that who he is is apparently kind of a jerk these days.

I Just Want to Know...

2007-09-24T22:52:00.000-06:00

What happened to the man who wrote this? And this?

I just don't understand.

Ummm....

2007-09-10T23:02:00.000-06:00

I don't know what to say. Honestly, I don't even know what to do. I do know that I probably won't post here again for a while and that I'll really miss doing so. I want to tell you all the insignificant little things going on in my life, but a big significant thing has come up and I don't know how it's going to turn out. I'm sorry. The last thing I need is to be alone right now, but I think that's what's going to happen. I'll write again later if I survive.

Oh Happy Day

2007-09-05T23:43:00.000-06:00

Yes, the oldest boy is back, and yes, the younger boys are delirious with joy. Pirate Boy is doubly happy because he has started second grade and loves his teacher, his class, his curriculum AND the fact that he's been placed in third-grade math. So proud of himself! (OK, I'm proud of him, too.) I'm a little surprised that he's not in third-grade something else, but they do have a lot of really smart kids to deal with. Punkin is feeling ambivalent; he's glad #1 Son is back, he's sad that his brothers go off to school without him now, and he feels pretty OK about having Mama all to himself during the day. (Let me tell you, he'd much rather be in kindergarten!)

I'll tell you the best thing about this week, though. Within a half hour of his arrival home, #1 Son had finished telling us all about his exciting trip to China and his new sister and their trip to Nebraska and the Weird Al concert and everything. Now he was somehow surrounded by his younger brothers laughing and talking and clamoring for his attention. Dinner was on the table, everybody was busy. Suddenly, I heard our boy give such a laugh of delight it warmed my heart. "I'm SO GLAD to be home!" he crowed. We're so glad to have him.

Heart's Blood

2007-09-01T22:27:00.000-06:00

Tonight I'm feeling bloody. Not just as in "bloody awful" or even "did I bloody well need that?" No, I feel battered and torn and in need of medical attention. It's only mostly a hallucination. (OK, this is where all the Pollyannas get to leave the room, shaking their heads and muttering, "Geez, another self-pity party...") I don't mean it that way; I just need to talk about it. Get the bile out. Keeping it in will kill me.

I may be wrong there. Thinking about it gives me the nearest thing to a heart attack, and I surely don't need that at this time on a Saturday night. I fought one off last night that would have had me in the ER if we'd had any health insurance or any money or any hope of either. Just color me impoverished and depressed and waiting to die. Yay.

I haven't posted for the past few days because I turned my right hand into a chunk of well-done meat while fixing dinner one night and I just can't type left-handed. It still hurts to do a lot of things, and even the heat of this laptop is getting to me. But I tell you what, if I ever get an overdone steak again, I'm pulling out my big ol' bottle of Coppertone Aloe AfterSun to use as sauce. It has saved my life this week and kept this second-degree burn from needing a doctor. (I'm not looking forward to having all these blisters pop, though. That's gonna be UGLY.)

TM is back in school (I may have mentioned that), and the kids start back on Tuesday. Well, presumably, both of them do. You know how Miss Thing picked up #1 Son early, right? Here's me innocently thinking that she just wants to take him to Harry Potter, and at least she'll bring him back in time for us to take him school shopping and get his hair cut and adjust his brain to not being on the "All Fun, All the Time" channel. Well, I was naive.

TM emailed her a week or so ago to invite her to bring #1 Son to junior-high orientation on Thursday. It's kind of important for him; the students will be getting their schedules, their lockers, and several other useful items they'll need for the school year. I need not mention the value of getting acquainted with teachers and classmates, or just the freaking-out potential of starting junior high. But of course, she didn't want to let him go. And because of that, he didn't care to go either.

Well, it turns out that she was taking him to a Weird Al concert Friday evening, so I could understand. And since it was on the way, she could just... what? She could take him to Nebraska for the weekend? Because why? (I still don't have an answer on that one.) And on her way back Monday, she'll ever so kindly drop him off at our place. If he's lucky, he'll get a good night's sleep as his entire preparation for 7th grade. Lucky guy.

It makes me sick to even think of the consequences of this one. He was having a hard enough time in 6th grade. How on earth is he going to deal with walking in totally clueless on the first day of 7th? Badly, that's how. But "Mommy time" is more important than anything else he could possibly have or do in his entire life. Although I understand how painful it is to have to let go of this person you love as if your heart is walking around outside your body, I do not understand how she can mistreat that other person like she does. If you love him, let him have a life.

But she doesn't. I worry about her new "daughter" (I'm sorry, I can't think of this as a real family situation, the way things are) so much. TM finally got #1 Son to talk about his new "sister"; it turns out that they did bring her back from China after all. And she is just as deaf as we thought (but Miss Thing wouldn't admit). And she "tells on" him all the time, although I don't know how, since she speaks neither English nor ASL (not that Miss Thing would know ASL either). Oh, such a happy, normal family.

I Meant to Say...

2007-08-25T21:38:00.000-06:00

Drug-induced brain fry continues to march along. Every day, with practically everything I do, I realize I've forgotten something. And boy, is that irritating. TM reminded me this evening of something I'd meant to mention last time in my rant about #1 Son's current jerky stepfather. Well, a couple of things. First, we still don't know whether those heinous excuses for adoptive parents actually got to bring back their new "daughter" with them from China.

Second, would you believe that those jerks (I don't know which one it was; I'm guessing it was "Mommy Dearest") not only took a photo of #1 Son sitting on the toilet, but actually posted it on the Web album, at the top of the page, where it would be the first thing to show up? Another reason I could happily slice them both up, pour acid on the pieces, and dance on the remains... I almost pitied her when I realize what a jerk she's married to, but I suspect she shares his ideas of humor.

And of course, she's not even considering bringing him here for junior-high orientation on the 30th, 'cause that might deprive her of something, like the ability to keep him away from us. (She'll say it's about her time with him, but she doesn't spend it with him; she goes to work and lets him watch TV all day or roam about the neighborhood. Yay, mom.) Must wait until the 1st, even though she picked him up a couple days early. His time with his dad? Oh who cares-- motherhood is everything.

My GYN asked me the other day (after checking my blood pressure) whether I have a lot of stress in my life. I almost said, "No, why?" Heh. I think what I said was something like, "Well, there is that whole being out of work for almost 2 years and having no money thing. That's a bit stressful." She looked at me weird. "Are you still married?" she asked sharply. "Well, yes, of course..." and then I realized the implications of her question, the unspoken addendum: "And what is your husband doing all this time?" Going to school, I swear (though I try not to). Two more years. Always two more years.

Birth of a Mother

2007-08-20T21:28:00.000-06:00

For those who were wondering, I had a laid-back, relaxed birthday. I slacked off totally on work and instead played Pirates! with my kids. We baked a chocolate cake and gave it rum-flavored, sea-green frosting. Yum! The Man ended up having to work most of the day and night, but he was home long enough to have dinner with us, so that was nice. (Dinner was Domino's pizza, courtesy of my baby sis. I totally refused to cook that day.)

Friday was little Cat's birthday; before we went to bed that night, Little Sis and her man had sent us photos from the party. What a cutie! I got to see pictures of her birth-mom and -grandma, who were there. The Man had to work from 8 a.m. to 2 a.m., so I was on my own basically forever. I took it a little easy, but had to make up the work I missed and oh, my house!

Saturday TM and I finally got to spend some quality time together. He had bought me a movie (The Corpse Bride) but we just sat and talked. It had been a while, and as much as I like Johnny Depp, I love my husband more. My folks had sent a gift card for Cold Stone Creamery (yum!), so I sent him out after the kids were in bed, and he returned with a couple cartons of sheer heaven. (Bing cherries were made to go in chocolate, that's all there is to it.)

Sunday, though... Actually, it was OK except I wasn't feeling well and had to lie down a lot of the day. Hmm, come to think of it, that's not really too bad at all. In the evening, I was up and about when TM opened an email from The Evil One's (third) husband. It had a link to the photos he took on their China trip, and I was anxious to see them. As I peered over TM's shoulder and waited for the photos to load (slowest photo site EVER), I noticed the title Satan's spouse had placed on this particular album: "My doofy stepson traipsing around China."

I went from peaceful to livid in 0.2 seconds. My hands actually clenched and I leaned slightly toward the monitor with a desperate desire to crush that man's throat and dance on his chest in spike heels. How DARE he??? was the tattoo of my heartbeat. How dare he call my stepson "doofy," and in a public forum, at that? Where exactly did he get off insulting his wife's child, in any case, and how on earth could he justify that, considering what nasty words (including "convicted, confessed child molester") could legitimately be applied to her stepson, his vile spawn?! The utter and unmitigated gall of the man!

Realizing how high my blood pressure was rising, I took a deep breath and a couple steps back. I tried to relax, but couldn't quite calm myself down. The outrage was unbelievable. As I closed my eyes and drew more deep breaths, I realized that my reaction wasn't altogether typical for a stepmother. That fanatical, violent surge of adrenaline belonged more to a protective mama bear, willing to stand up to anything for her children. And so I am. And he is mine. I hope he comes back soon.

Happy Anniversary to Me

2007-08-15T15:07:00.000-06:00

Nine years, can you believe it? Nine years ago this afternoon (Hawaii time), TM and I were trailing behind a white-robed, hippy-ish island preacher across the grounds of the new "Fantasy Island" TV show, trying to get the workmen to get out of the way so we could go ahead with our wedding ceremony. Some highlights of the event (in case I haven't mentioned them too many times for you to forget), in no particular order:

a large dog that knocked #1 Son (age 3) down and licked him all during the ceremony
a manky but colorful parrot that sat on people's heads
a long mournful blast on a conch shell to signify a long happy life together
bridesmaids (and bride) in tropical print dresses
a groom in a Hawaiian shirt and leafy lei
the loud but gleeful statement, "I'm not wearing any underwear!"
a preacherly monologue featuring the words "intimate relationships with animals"
ocean breezes rustling the palm trees and tall grasses
a massive mosquito attack on the legs of bride and bridesmaids
wonderful family and friends, most of whom had made a long trip just for our special day (the chance to have a Hawaiian vacation wasn't a draw at all, I'm sure)

After cake, cookies, and socializing in the park, TM and I drove off into the be-rainbowed sunset for a relaxing wedding night at the Turtle Bay Hilton, with guava cake for breakfast. Not a bad start, really. Here's to the next nine years.

Getting Old

2007-08-12T00:32:00.000-06:00

A lot of things seem to be getting old this week, not the least of which is me. That's right, kids, I'm less than a week from my dreaded 40th birthday. No, I haven't really been dreading it. I've been avoiding thinking about it. And when I do think of my age, I feel like I'm already 40 and looking pretty good considering. Well, I can dream, can't I? Fortunately, several of my friends have already turned 40; one of them called me this week and mentioned that the son of our other friend had graduated high school on her (Friend 1's) birthday this year. Ew, how old I feel.

And then I look around at my life and my little ones. Oh sure, at the family reunion last week, I saw my cousin who's 3 years older than me, and realized that she could be a grandma within the year. But I can't! As good as my little guys are about taking care of their "babies," they're nowhere near the age of having any of their own. Thank goodness!

#1 Son is another story. He called Friday to say he'd just gotten back from China, and I talked to him for a while. He was full of news about the trans-Pacific flight, traffic in China, their luggage getting lost, and people photographing him because he's a blonde. With some prompting, he told me about climbing the Great Wall, visiting Tiananmen Square, and seeing the terra cotta soldiers. Eventually, he mentioned the orphanage (that's what this whole trip was about, right? the adoption?) but only to tell how greedy and grabby the little kids were when he started handing out candy.

Then he said something I found really interesting. "For 2 weeks, I was an adult," he told me proudly. "In China, 12 is the age of adulthood." Really. I may not have mentioned it in this forum (although I'm vocal enough about it elsewhere), but the "sister" his Mommy is buying him (I have no doubt this is the way she thinks of it) is 12 years old, same as him. (Well, of course; he needs a playmate his own age. Duh.) Which makes me wonder about the Chinese as much as about the psycho woman. They know.

I've been wondering all this time who would allow this adoption to go forward, considering the circumstances. Besides the molester (who doesn't actually live with them and has had his record erased now that he's an adult in this country), there's still a boy who's entering his teens. And there's this girl his age, who's considered an adult in her country. And they're arranging for them to live in the same house (at least part of the time). And of course, Miss Thing can just leave either or both of them at the house anytime, 'cause they're old enough...

When he heard about it, TM's brother summed up the situation succinctly, "I can predict the future, and what I see is... a pregnant Asian chick." Tacky but likely. Damn that woman. Her insanity is decidedly getting old.

Miner 49-er

2007-08-09T13:49:00.000-06:00

My dad passed along this article today; being from that area, his family is passing around a lot of articles related to the mining situation this week. Apparently my cousin contacted a reporter and got some stuff into the paper. Kinda cool, but still sad.

I Can't Believe It

2007-08-06T23:07:00.000-06:00

I just cannot believe it. Actually, this could have begun the post I was tempted to write last night, which would have been a long whiny rant about how if I hadn't been so darned responsible as to double-check at the last minute, I wouldn't have even known that I was supposed to report for jury duty this morning. And how I'd forgotten when I postponed it originally (it was supposed to be during my family reunion last week) that today was my deadline as well as smack-dab in the middle of Migraine Week. And how I was going to lose out on about $100, which my family could ill afford at this time. And don't get me started about "What am I supposed to do with my kids all day?" That was a good whine.

But guess what? I went to jury duty, the kids went to work with dad, they had a great time, I got dismissed right away, we got home for lunch and a nap, I finished my articles in plenty of time (for the first time ever) and have actually been working on other people's! Punkin Boy fell asleep early, so bedtime was very quiet, and Pirate Boy promises to sleep till noon tomorrow. (Don't you believe it; but it's very nice of him.)

Whew! I am not staying up past midnight tonight. Must get rid of the puffy eyes from crying my self-pitying loser self to sleep last night. And I'll probably have no work at all to do tomorrow. Can you believe how sweet life is?

Quick! Look Over There!

2007-08-02T23:08:00.000-06:00

Yo ho ho, my youngest niece Cat steals all the treasure while Punkin Boy and Darla (a.k.a. the crew) are distracted. She tells her mama (via sign language) that she plans to eat it. Well, that's a safe hiding place... sort of.

By the Way

2007-07-26T23:45:00.000-06:00

It's on my mind, although I haven't mentioned it: #1 Son is on his trip to China, or at least I presume so. (Miss Thing doesn't bother sending an email saying, "OK, we're leaving tomorrow" or anything. The only information we've got is what he told me after talking to her on the phone a couple weeks back. How any parent can be expected to live this way is beyond me.)

Now tell me, you parents out there (and even you non-parents with a bit of imagination): With the information that's been in the news lately, combined with the widespread pet sickness, would you feel comfortable about your kid traveling (and specifically eating) in China these days? Me neither.

Times Are a-Changin'

2007-07-25T23:44:00.000-06:00

This weekend, my little Punkin Boy gave a talk in church for the first time. Yes, he is 4 years old, and yes, that's probably weird in any culture other than the one I belong to. It's just what we do. With most people, I think it helps them become better public speakers over the years, so generally, it's a good thing.

TM and I went to watch him. For those who are unaware, during the second hour of our Sunday meetings, the kids ages 3 to 7 gather for "Sharing Time" and for another hour in individual classes. (The older kids do classes first.) Talks happen during "Sharing Time."

I was really nervous for him. I still remember my first talk when I was 4. I had prepared a really good talk (I thought) on the story of Jonah. I wrote it all out and was ready (though a little scared) to give it when the time came. But I guess I was a little too timid. My voice apparently didn't carry to the back of the room, and some kids commented on it. The nice lady who was in charge thought my talk was so good (so the story goes) that she felt everyone should hear it. But since my voice was too quiet, she took my notes out of my hand and read them again.

I was so humiliated I wanted to die-- not just then, but every time anyone has ever asked me to give a talk in church since then. I have had to rudely run away or hang up on people once or twice without explaining because I felt that I must throw up right now. How embarrassing. You'd think I'd get over it, especially after all these years and all those speech classes. But no.

I sat there at the back of the room, clutching my husband's hand and trying to smile instead of panic on behalf of my baby. I realized that nowadays there are microphones at the podium so that nobody has to go through what I did. (Of course it was all about me.) And Punkin Boy stepped right up to the microphone and started to read out his talk (on Ephesians Ch. 6) just as bold as you please.

But then it hit me: someone had turned off the microphone earlier and hadn't turned it back on! I panicked. I trembled in my seat. I wanted to cry or yell at someone, "Don't do this to my baby!" I was terrified and could just about see the whole scenario repeating itself. Then one of the "nice ladies in charge" got up-- my life flashed before my eyes-- and turned the microphone back on.

Whew! Punkin Boy had another couple sentences to go and hadn't noticed a thing. He finished reading, nodded to the audience, and went back to his seat smiling proudly. I could hardly keep back the tears. "Good job, baby," I whispered, and he ran to me and climbed on my lap for a hug. Crisis averted. Happy times.

Psycho Babble

2007-07-20T21:36:00.000-06:00

Just had to share: I got an email from a long-lost high-school friend who says she's been reading my blog (but not commenting, you'll notice-- the punk!). She adds that she ran into another, even longer-lost friend, who was my best buddy in grade school, and gave me a little news about her, too. I'm so psyched! Maybe Classmates.com is worth something, after all.

I want this job at my favorite chocolate factory, but I can't have it because of my back. Do you think I can persuade TM to take a crack at it? (Did someone say "crack addict"? Yep, I'm hooked on chocolate.)

Meanwhile, I'm avoiding doing my work. I'm getting editor (I almost typed "idiot" rather Freudianly) burnout already. Need to be independently wealthy so that I can focus on my writing instead. Overdrawn and behind on the bills just isn't cutting it.

Still, my children have a roof over their heads despite nearly 2 years without me bringing home the bacon. And they're showing signs of becoming such overachieving super-geniuses as the world hasn't seen since the passing of Isaac Asimov (oops, sorry, Brother Card). So it's not all bad.

Fed Up

2007-07-18T22:07:00.000-06:00

I've had just about enough of everything tonight, especially work. But I haven't killed anyone yet. Good on me.

By the bye, did you know that cocoa-oatmeal Raisinette cookies, when frozen and then warmed in the microwave, smell just like toasted marshmallows? I wonder why...

I Get It Now

2007-07-12T21:03:00.000-06:00

There surely was something suspicious about the sudden decision on The Evil One's part to whisk #1 Son away from us early even though she was supposed to work, and now I know what the motivation was. Harry Potter. Or rather, the persistent desire to have #1 Son think she's just the best, most fun person in the world. Still. I've been slammed for calling her a Disneyland mom, but what do you call it?

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

2007-07-11T21:14:00.000-06:00

I've been down with migraine all day long. Well, actually, since 3 p.m. last Thursday. But today, I couldn't even get up out of bed until it was time to make dinner, and even then I had to really concentrate to boil some spaghetti.

#1 Son was out most of the day with a church group, waterskiing and having a good time. I was really glad of it, though his little brothers were lonely. I struggled through the bedtime routine, having told #1 Son I'd be glad to hear more about his day once the other kids were taken care of.

But while I was in the other room singing lullabyes, who should call up but the Evil One. "Well, it looks like we'll be going to China on the 25th; I think I'll come pick you up tomorrow," she tells him. My first thought was, "You're not going to see your dad again until September..." Actually, I had a moment of "She's not supposed to come until Sunday-- Saturday at earliest!" But that was part of the whole train of thought: The Man's working till 11 tonight, he'll be leaving again early in the morning, and he's working late again tomorrow. He'll be devastated not to see his boy even to say goodbye...

I was good, though. I didn't yell or scream or even make a sarcastic remark. I did mention TM's work thing, as an "Isn't it a shame?" aside. I didn't mention how his brothers will cry when he up and leaves with hardly any warning. That's for me to deal with.

Some days I feel like quoting from Hook:

"I hate... I hate... I hate Peter Pan!" Only it's not Peter Pan, it's that nasty, nasty, selfish woman who gave birth to #1 Son. And I really hate feeling this way.

Nose to the Grindstone, Sorta

2007-07-09T13:02:00.000-06:00

Lucky me, deadline falls right smack in the middle of Migraine Week. I did edited 40 articles one deadline day last month, though, so I'm sure I can do it again. Yeah, I'm sure I can. I don't even have to bake a cake this time.

What I'm working on recently: "How to Deal with Premenstrual Irritability" (also "How to Breed Peafowl" and "How to Grow a Beard"-- all from one author!); I learn so much with this job.

The little guys have been very very good today, which I totally need. #1 Son has been weird and mopey. (Teen years approaching, did I say?) A little more initiative and independence would serve him well.

The Man IM's me to say he's thinking of coming home early because of the heat, again. Can someone please tell me why anybody would stick their IT department in a building with no air conditioning? TM works on the second floor, and it's hovering around 100 degrees, again. Yack. Well, that'll be some help with the kids, maybe.

Me, at Midnight, Again

2007-07-07T00:20:00.000-06:00

I named my blog ages ago when I was working more than full-time trying to support my family, and the only time I had to myself when I could write was after I lost lucidity, sometime in the wee hours of the night. I felt kind of silly after I lost my job and could blog just about anytime I wanted to. I could just hear people wondering "What's up with the 'midnight' thing? She only posts at lunchtime..."

Well, I'm back to the witching hour, when I have any time at all, that is. And it is because I'm working again, though for only a fraction of the pay and no benefits at all. Mostly, I don't mind. At least I'm working again and can feel like I'm contributing something to our family's upkeep. (Yes, it was bothering me.) But I'm tired and cranky and I occasionally wonder whether it'll kill me, and whether anyone would miss me if I did.

And then I have these moments of rapturous appreciation from my kids, especially Pirate Boy, who (by virtue of having finally cleaned his room) now has his own email and blog! He thinks he is the coolest thing in the world, and that I'm the coolest mama for having made it possible. Those snuggly hugs are totally worth staying alive for.

P.S. Let me know if you want to visit or write to the little guy, and I'll email you the details. He loves getting mail!

Blah

2007-07-03T00:48:00.000-06:00

No word yet on when The Man will get paid. (What? I didn't tell you the story about how the state is stealing our interest-- I mean, keeping its employees' money for an extra few weeks?) I unfortunately know how far off my payday is (at least another month). Sigh. I guess we won't get to buy this.

When in Pain

2007-06-22T15:06:00.000-06:00

This article really made my day. I'm still in pain, but at least someone out there understands. Now if I only could afford all those lovely treatments and preventions. No? OK, pass me the drugs. And some for the kids, too.

I Could So Home School

2007-06-15T22:19:00.000-06:00

Yesterday The Man (TM) worked late again, and I felt exhausted. I had just started to chide myself for being such a wimp, when something inside me rebelled and started listing all the things I'd done since I woke up that morning. These are the ones I can remember:

Made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for me and the kids
Did laundry and dishes
Edited half a dozen articles
Did a ton of research on the Internet
Wrote one article
Emailed each of my authors at least once
Wiped a stinky butt more times than I care to count
Graded an essay
Broke up a couple dozen fights
Supervised art and writing lessons
Downloaded several photos to my hard drive
Recovered from 3 fatal computer errors
Read a dozen books with children
Got #1 Son to mow the lawn
Arranged for our food to be delivered

And did all of this with cramps and a migraine, on 5 hours' sleep. All right, I'm not trash-talking to myself anymore. In fact, I'm thinking I could be a teacher with credentials like that.

Little Rascals

2007-06-13T17:11:00.000-06:00

More adorable kid stuff from this past month. On Sunday, this adorable niece of mine (just call her Darla) sweet-talked my boys into doing a (puppet) show with her. So here, live from Piano-Bench Theater, I bring you The Tale of the King, the Queen, and Three Wooden Spoons.

Pow!

2007-06-12T22:02:00.000-06:00

And here is the handsome and talented Pirate Boy (did I mention he's 7 years old now?) getting his kicks on some grass that's way healthier than ours. (Yes, it is way too hot to wear that shirt outside. Luckily his pants are well air-conditioned.)

Pop!

2007-06-12T21:57:00.000-06:00

Here we have Punkin Boy doing his impression of a baby dragon hatching out of its egg. I'm telling you, people, the amusement never ends.