that vision thang

Ah, another fun party night, when I would love to hang out with my adult friends who don't tell fart jokes and....

Wait. Let me amend that. Who tell FUNNY fart jokes, as well as much more intelligent jokes, and don't laugh so hard they fall on the floor at  them.

Elder, Younger, and I left a sick, sick hubby at home (he didn't even remember me tucking him into bed or that I left the house when he woke up three hours later) and went to a party for a couple of friends who have birthdays just days apart. Our group of friends is split between those of us With Children and those of us Without Children. It has become a necessity to haul the children to events, if we want to go, as babysitting is simply too expensive and I feel badly always asking for family to watch them so we can go out. Sometimes, this works well; our best friends have two boys almost the exact same age as our Flowers, and they love to play with each other. Some nights, though, God is out to get us. Last night was almost one of those nights.

Younger DID NOT want to go sleep. She and the Littler Boy have often shared a crib when we've been over after her bed-time. Elder and Bigger Boy had both done the same when they were smaller as well. Last night was the latest in a rebellion by Younger against it. So I had to take her into a spare bedroom and lay down with her until she fell soundly asleep. But then I fell asleep at 10:30 on a Saturday night, over someone else's house, in the middle of a party, when I hadn't been drinking anything (I was driving my children home, so I don't drink a DROP of alcohol then) but caffeine- lots and lots of Coke. I slept for about an hour before waking up.

I am so old and tired, its just sad. Embarrassing.

At least Little and Bigger Boys' dad did the same thing, so I'm not old alone.

The point of talking about the party, though, was not to whine about being tired or the trouble those little Flowers gave me. Its actually about hoe LITTLE trouble they gave me- tired, sugar-high, no nap, yet behaved well. And entertainingly.

At the beginning of the party, Elder wanted to dance to music. She loves to dance around to pretty much any music, any where. So someone put on music (I don't even remember what music, now) and she started dancing. She asked a male attendee to dance with her, who declined; then she asked his girlfriend, a friend of ours, who told Elder that she hadn't had enough to drink to dance in front of a group. Mommy was third choice, but Mommy said yes,.

Elder was being very specific, in her Flowery way, of how I was to dance. She held out the side of her dress and told me to hold there. I thought she meant her dress, and screwy as it seemed, I tried it.

Nope. I got yelled at, and in the exact same tone I use with her, she said, "No. Hold here." The you idiot mommy was left unsaid, but nevertheless understood.  So I tried to hold my own shirt out in the same way, explaining that I couldn't manage because of my jeans to do it her exact way, when she yelled at me again. The unsaid italicized words verged on cursing I'm sure.

This time she put my hand on her waist and said, "No! Hold me there, like that."

Than she grasped my other hand in her own, held up and out, and we looked like we were really dancing.Waltzing, old style. (A little difficult on my knees, but I managed.) When I asked her where on earth she learned this, she smiled and said, "Cinderella."

Maybe Disney princesses aren't as terrible as I thought, because she was just damn awfully cute.

And she already waltzes better than me.

Current Mood: amused

Okay, it's Halloween. I was so pumped, really, even though Wonder Woman would be missing silver stars on her skirt and gold striped on her boots. I was ready to go do it up, even though I am exhausted and had to have blood tests done today and am ignoring mountains of items to grade for report cards next week....

And then just gave up, so easily. Halloween just doesn't quite seem like Halloween this year. Not that I didn't do anything for it, not that I was depriving my private little Justice League of any Halloween event. It just felt off. I've had the pieces of my costume for ages (I bought parts of it pre-Younger Flower and had to post pone when I found myself pregnant and too fat to fit into my boots or a corset.) Yet, I waited until the last minute to finish the details, so the details remain undone. I dressed up for school, and WW wouldn't be appropriate to wear there, so I pulled out an older costume (cobbled together from disparate pieces of my real wardrobe) of Punk Rock Girl. That got a lot of comment from the students, but much less than if I had worn Wonder Woman '07. So, when my Younger Flower, who was my matching Little Wonder Woman, decided to be a cranky cuss, refuse to wear her costume, and needed to be put to bed before trick-or-treating even got started, well- it was so much easier to leave on Punk Rock Girl and promise myself that my now $200 plus incredible, unfinished costume would just be worn next year. (BTW- Elder Flower lasted less than two blocks before she decided that her candy bag was too heavy for her and wanted to go home.)

So- I recycled a costume, which I have not done in several years, unless it was to keep it appropriate for school; in that case, there was always a different one for home. But not tonight. Flipping about internet sites, checking out Sarcasmom's Wednesday's Off and finding Sarcas-sis's blog, then bringing myself to look at the posthumous reposting on Sarcasmo's Corner, I realized- Star isn't here. Halloween was bigger for than Christmas. Aside from other personal issues that have dimmed the season, this is a big one for not felling Halloween-y, me thinks.

I bet Star would have loved our costumes this year. She really liked our family-themed Peter Pan last year, which was all by Elder's personal design. (One of the reasons I was happy to choose my own costume this year. I didn't really like being a female Mr. Smee.)

I also had some doctor's visits/showdowns. I have gall stones- I was horrendously ill for a month, throwing up, unable to eat, etc. I was swtiched off long-temr meds that can cause ulcers, because my primary thought that it was ulcers. I refuse to just have surgery without being tested for ulcers, because I have so much going on with my various and sundry immune disorders. If surgery is not definitely going to help, why bother? I want to try alternatives. Same with my other conditions, like herbal supplements, reiki massage,  and accu-puncture. So my doc sent me for a bunch of blood tests today, to see if it IS gall stones, told me to schedule an endoscopy, and added mroe supplements to the list I began taking on my own. I now take a record (between  meds and supplements) 21 pills a day; 11 meds, total. So I am tired of being handed drugs byt he medical establishment, which tends to cause more problems (like my 145 plus blood pressure, when I've always been on the low end of normal) then solves.I had to go to get the blood work today, but man, being stuck for five large vials of blood didn't help my holiday mood at all.

Current Mood: apathetic

I am in pre-Halloween manic state. My do-it-yourself Wonder Woman costume is still not done- and I am very tired and foggy and fibro-sore, so I'm beginning to doubt it will match my dream of it, but I will work on it tomorrow, and it will be ready for the costume party we are going to tomorrow. The only issue with it is spray painting my boots- its rainy in Philly, for the second day straight. If it doesn't dry out for a stretch tomorrow, I'm going to have to borrow a friend's porch, tape up a ton of newspaper, an spray real fast and light so it can dry. If the boots don't get done- the rest will look dumb. I'll have to substitute red heels, I guess.

The pain in my back is really more of a concern. It has begun spasming again, tightening up so bad that all my muscles hurt and I can't get the knots to release, nor can I find a comfortable way to sit or lay. Urgh.

My little Flowers are being adorable again. The Elder Flower is so excited its Halloween. In my laziness (and the chaos of the garage), I hadn't even decorated until she bugged me last weekend. Bugged is strong- it was manipulated. Every time we left the house, she pointed out all the other houses were decorated and that we didn't have any decorations. In the sad, non-whiny voice. When the Hubby got the decorations out for us, and we all went outside to decorate, Elder Flower had NO interest, at all, in helping. I still haven't learned. Every holiday, she gets so gung-ho about decorating, i get sucked in to believing that she will actually help me THIS time- and then I get frustrated and disappointed. I still really look forward to baking Christmas cookies with her, when she will actually help bake them and not just eat them.

I did get good news today, talking to her teacher. The is trying to do beginning phonics- recognizing letters and the sounds they make, that words are make up of letters, etc- with her mixed class of 2 to almost 5 year olds. Elder Flower isn't the oldest child in the preschool, but- according to the teacher, who I made repeat it twice to make sure I wasn't misunderstanding- she is the most advanced. They use a computer lab, with a letters/phonics program of multiple letters. Elder is the only child who is allowed to skip the letter matching level and go to level two, because she already knows it. It made me very happy. Hubby and I- and any one who has spent more than ten minutes with the happy, non-tantrum-y Elder Flower- know she is very, very smart. She is very verbal and always has been. She makes up elaborate stories to tell (we've written a few down, even printed one out and started to illustrate), sings original songs all the time (it's like living in a kids' musical), and loves to draw and explain her drawings. I'm not very mathematical, so math games are not really something I see her do, though. Her only issue is the behavior- which is so far below her intelligence level. Even her teacher has expressed frustration about and uncertainty in how to deal with it (and she's dealt with little kids for almost 20 years.) We are already looking at charter schools and private schools with very low student to teacher ratios, so that Elder won't get bored. Bored Elder Flower, so far, has equalled  writing her name on the school room floor, beating up other kids, arguing at the opt of her lungs over which Disney princess was best and saying she was going to kill the child who disagreed with her (a boy, no less), destroying things to take them apart and see how they work (her lava lamp night light was only on of her casualties.) So we are a little worried about her whole school experience.

Then, every once in a while, she has such a cute day that you forget she has such bad ones. Today, she was so cute telling everyone that we have a Halloween party tomorrow and that she' s going to be Super Girl. And Hubby got her a new Dora Mermaid movie to watch, and she was so happy and thankful about it. She has beautiful manners, when she chooses to practice them. And Younger Flower wanted to watch the movie, too, so we let them stay in Elder's room, laying in bad together to watch. Younger is still in a crib in her room- more for the protection of the house than for her, right now- and I was nervous about it. Younger can't sleep in there for the night, but just to fall asleep, which we told Elder- who promptly tried to argue that Younger would be fine in there with her for the night to sleep., could she stay? It was so damn cute, and unexpected. Most of the time, Elder is complaining that Younger is stealing something or won't go away or keeps attacking her. But my girls do get along very well for sisters. It makes me, an only child, very happy to see them get along like this. Even Hubby, who has a sibling, has remarked how well they get along.

I must be doing something right, right?

Of course, Younger also pistol-whipped Elder with a hard plastic (old fashioned box kind, not the newer insulated ones) lunch box when Elder tried to help Younger up on a particularly tall curb at school yesterday until Elder backed off.

My little blossoms.

Current Mood: happy

We can all tell that I’ve been thinking about the past a lot lately. It’s not just Star, or melancholy, honestly. As much as children are an affirmation of your role in the bigger world, they are also a magnet for re-examining your past. What you have learned in your life is what you pass on to your children. It’s natural to stop and wonder, do I really want to pass that bit of family culture on?

I used to think that there was a lot that I didn’t want to pass on. I didn’t have a terrible childhood- don’t think that- but I didn’t always get along with my parents and spent a great deal of time in silent rebellion. (Some would argue I am still rebelling, what with tattoos and piercings and purple hair. Sarcas-mom thinks so.) A great deal of my teenage years was spent picking my parents apart and vowing not to be like them. My father was a bit right- so I went to the far, tie-dyed left. My mother was a recovering alcoholic; I barely touched alcohol until my late twenties. Now that I have kids, I greatly appreciate how difficult it is to be a parent and a person who is happy with themselves. No one can be perfect, not matter how hard they try to be. (I keep repeating this to myself, and some day I will believe it about myself.) Some people manage better than others; my parents had their own problems in addition to me, and I was far from an easy child long before my black-clothes-only phase.

My parents did teach me some wonderful things. My mother taught me compassion and the value of family. She really put no pressure on me to pursue any particular path but let me wander until I found my own. My step-father taught me to believe in myself, even if others don’t. (He was little crazy, though, always tilting at corporate windmills while engaging in dozens of get rich quick schemes.) He taught me no one will hand you anything you haven’t worked for. My father taught me never to settle, to always work hard, and don’t be afraid to be smart. He also taught me the value of family, how to stand by them, even if they do something stupid. (Of course, he also taught me to harass them mercilessly as they make a mistake that I know will be a mistake. That side of the family is very loving but quite tough to get along with sometimes.)

Those are good things to pass on.

And I guess, in retrospect, there aren’t really that many bad things to forget. Even what wasn’t great made me who and what I am. And the things I thought were bad, I understand better now. For instance-

When I was about 5, my dad had a boat we used to take water skiing. I loved riding in the boat. It had the most hideously seventies orange indoor-outdoor carpeting in it, with tan seats, but I loved speeding along, wind in my face, hair flying, with my dad driving and my mom skiing behind us. She really liked waterskiing, and my mom was NOT athletic. The only person she trusted to drive (and even after they were divorced, she used to say this all the time) was my dad. One winter, my dad decided that I was old enough to learn to ski. And I was all for it, even though I hated swimming in lakes, bays, oceans, etc. Why, you ask? Because of my Jaws fears, for one.  And the uneasy feeling that I couldn’t touch the bottom, and if I did touch the bottom, there were all kinds of slimy/creepy feeling things on my legs that I couldn’t identify. So he bought me skis. I tried them on in the upstairs living room. I practiced standing in them, getting up from a crouching down position. And that summer, when we went to Beltzville Lake, he tossed them in and told me to go in, too.

I said no.

He was beside himself. And I responded the one way to guarantee to make him more stubborn- I cried. Bawled. Refused, hysterically. My mother said to leave me alone. My father threw me in. Calm down- I had on a life jacket and was well able to swim (I can’t remember NOT being able to swim.) But I cried more, wouldn’t do anything but float. Eventually he gave up and I got back in the boat, but he was not happy with me.

I held this against him for years.

Well, my eldest has made me consider borrowing his tactic. She refuses to put her face in the water in the pool. It’s been a three-year battle to get her to go into the damn pool and not cling to me like a frightened monkey. Even after swimming lessons. I so clearly understand his frustration, and think- I survived it. Surely she can. If I just toss her in, and get her face wet so she sees it won’t hurt her-

Then I had that scary moment when I realized- crap. I’m turning into my father?!?!?!?!

I owe him an apology when I go to see him this summer.

Current Mood: okay

I have insomnia gain. Fibro pain is annoying my body- nothing bad enough to make me cry or anything, but briefly painful and quite fucking annoying.

If you don't have it, it's hard to make someone understand a chronic pain condition like RA or fibro. I have a hard enough time acknowledging/understanding it, and I've got it. Talking to others on some boards has made me feel a little better about this, but I've had a couple of bad days this week and it really kills that good mood that I was in.

That's what I get for bragging about being happy and accepting my medical conditions.

There's a few different pains/problems with pains. First, there's just general stiffness. Most people have it, at least in the morning or after sitting still for too long. I have it constantly, even if I stretch. Then, there's this weird thing I've been having, where it's not pain, but actually a lack of sensitivity. I can tell if someone is touching my skin, but I don't really feel it in the muscles below. Well, I do- but not nearly as much as I should. Massage is a prime example of this. Muscle knots feel better having direct pressure applied to them, but I can't feel the know actually release, which I used to (that was my favorite part of the massage.) All my muscles are tight; if I twist at all a little funny, I'll get a muscle spasm and then a cramp I can't work out. I just have to suffer with it until it settles down to a tolerable level. Then, there's the feeling that you get from those Icy/Hot muscle creams. Well, I can't that feeling over random patches of muscle at completely random times, with no warning. Or pins and needles as well. Then there's just the dull ache- imagine how you feel after a really too-difficult workout, and then magnify it. (I am completely not an athletic or workout person, so I'm well acquainted with post-work out pain, and what's a normal pain for over extending myself.)

And there's no reason other than my screwed up immune system for all this pain.

No wonder some people don't accept that Fibro is a real condition. It sounds like I'm crazy. And I know it sounds like I'm crazy. Sometimes, I just feel crazy. It would be better than what it is- there are better meds for crazy people right now than Fibro, I swear. If I wasn't me, if I was just hearing a story about someone who had this pain, shit- I wouldn't believe them, either.

So that part of life sucks. Sorry for whining in public and all.

The other two parts of my life- the kids and writing- aren't going so well right now either. My eldest daughter is having some adjustment issues with having her older, better behaved, bossy cousin around. And since she's 4, she no longer naps- and she is hell on wheels when she's tired. We have had a couple of complete meltdowns and a bunch of tears. It's not fun.

Writing- I just finished one story that took a lot out of me, and the boards and such have been pretty quiet, so no inspiration there. I have bits and pieces of things just running all over my head. I don't know what to write down and what to try and remember anymore (I used to have more leeway with what I wrote down, when I had a better memory.) Everything just seems to bring to mind- how can I use this in a story? My almost 90 year old Grandfather has stage 4 Prostate cancer and Alzheimer's, and I'm thinking what I can use from his life to create a story modeled on the stubborn old coot. Granted, this particular instance might just be my way of avoiding dealing with the Old Man's mortality- but his crazy-ass life really would make a cool character.

I'm sick. It's a very alive feeling though. I keep trying to remember everything, to think about again later to find a way to use it. I do remember feeling like this in HS and points in college, when writing was a complete compulsion that I couldn't turn down. There was a point in time where I didn't know how NOT to write. I'm approaching that point again. Which is good-

I've just got a lot going on in my life at the same time, and it makes for a whirlwind in my mind. I hope I can do all this and write, come end of summer. I don't want to give this part of me up again to real life. I just don't.

***HAIR UPDATE***
By the by, my hair is now light lavender, all over (not just streaks) and that will be joined by darker purple streaks/highlights come 4th of July. The Kool-Aid wash sucked, and the pink just wasn't going to cut a trip to NM. So I took 3 kids to Sally's Beauty, got driven completely nuts, and bit the bullet and bought real purple dye. I'm not entirely happy with it (again) but it's livable now.

Current Mood: melancholy

Yeah- survived another day at home with the kids! And with hardly any tears, too (on both our parts.)

Plus, I have hope for my little Alexis P. Keaton. She chose Jimi Hendrix for dancing around the living room today.

Current Mood: accomplished

As a teacher, this is a great time of year. School is over!!! All the problem children who have pushed every button and tap-danced across my last nerve are gone, now. I teach seniors, and all but one has graduated. That one will attend summer school, and I will not be teaching it (my saying is, when asked if I am teaching summer school, that I put them there, I don't teach them there.) So this is a time for self-evaluation. Problem is, I am so tired and I have been doing this for so long (next fall will be my eighth year) that I am worried that I am stagnating. I think I am doing a good job. After all, the students generally don't fall asleep in class, and none of them outright say that there is no point to what I am teaching (any more.) I only failed 1 out of 125 students, which is much better than the 25-30% I used to fail. Only one student failed my mid-term or finals. Most students turned in their projects. Most students do their homework.

Is the fact that this year went so well because of my experience and ability to adapt work for my classes and students, or did I just have a particularly good group of students? I guess I will have to wait until this time next year to answer that, but I am nervous for the fall. I am teaching three subjects, one of them new, and- thanks to motherhood- have essentially no time to do work at home. Plus my health issues, which can complicate things at any time.

Well, I just need to ignore all that until August, because I am now home with my two difficult yet wonderful daughters, and my niece (who's a year older than my oldest) for the duration of the summer, save two weeks of vacation. I am planning on running my house like the pre-school my kids attend, because the eldest 1) loves it there, 2) likes to play Pre-school at Home, and 3) needs to be kept constantly busy to keep me sane. This is the first summer I will be home with them; normally I still have so much going on that they stay in day care year round. But trying to save money for private school tuition in a year is good motivation to try something new. Tomorrow, the eldest is helping me set up Pre-School at Home, and my niece won't be joining us until next week. I guess I can ease into it. Problem is, I teach high-school for a reason. Most parents are terrified of the teen-age years; I feel more comfortable dealing with teenagers than snotty-nosed, temper-tantruming, need-to-wipe-their-butts 0 through 5 year olds.

On the bright side, the eldest new hobby is board games like Candy Land and Hi-Ho Cherrio, so I may not have to dress up like a princess and dance and sing silly songs to keep her happy. The youngest is growing like a weed, and is much more of a terror than the eldest was at her age. Well, terror in a different way. The eldest was a drama queen, throwing  extended attention-grabbing temper tantrums every where and anywhere, the more public and embarrassing the better. This one is quiet, and intent, and mechanically inclined. Less than two, and she can turn the TV off and on and the volume up or down, on demand. At my aunt's house yesterday, she decided that the police scanner in the living room (off, now that my EMT cousin no longer EMTs or lives at home) was more fun than the toys. Anything that has buttons (like the blender in our kitchen) must be pushed. She even defeated child-proof cabinet locks!!!

All in all, the summer should be an experience. Hopefully, I will have time to write. Original fiction and finish up some fan-fic. I hope. I pray.

I'll try.

Current Mood: restless