Stop Bitching. Start a Revolution.

Forgive me as I rant for a moment.  You see, as a stay-at-home mom most many all days are spent here with my kids.  I do enjoy it, but there are times, say, when all four cry at once and to prevent myself from crying as well, I'll hop on Facebook.  For 5 minutes here or there I'll look at other people's pictures and get to veg while staring at ridiculous statuses.

Here's what pisses me off.  Let's have some etiquette, people.  I realize everybody needs to bitch here and there.  God knows while I was working everyday (and if you know where I worked, you know there was plenty to bitch about) I'd get on and vent every so often.  But no body likes a party pooper.  ...that person that bitches every. single. time. anything comes out of their face (or keyboard).  I get it.  Work sucks.  Your spouse sucks.  The kids suck.  Your body sucks.  Your freaking pet sucks.  I have a pretty revolutionary idea for ya...  try, just once...  saying something positive.  Sneak it in there on the sly.  Try it out.  It may just change everything.

As a fellow things-can-suck-pretty-regularly gal, I have to say that EVERYONE has SOMETHING positive to say.  Did you eat today?  BAM! positive.  Did you sleep in a bed? BOOM! positive.  Was there a roof over it? There ya go.  Does someone, anyone love you? you get the drift.  Happiness isn't in money and it sure as hell (unless you're lucky or you've planned right) doesn't often come from a job.  It certainly doesn't just happen to you.  Mayhaps you need to look for it.


Seriously give it a try.  Think of the positives, blessings, good things... whatever you want to call them... in your life.  Often, when you think of one... you'll just keep coming up with more.


...And besides...  if Facebook is going to be one of my few social outlets... lets make this a positive thing for ME.  

I'm just saying.

Oh No She Didn't...

Check this... 

I made stuff today!  I feel like Farmer Fran... I also feel like The Shit.  This stuff is amazing:

Mmmm... Pina Colada jam!  I'll have to add the recipe to the ol' blog tomorrow. 

I also threw together some curtains.  It's called being frugal (I prefer that to cheap)...  found this bit of cloth in a closet... had Liquid Stitch, but no sewing talent...

and... BOOM.  Curtains.

It's really pretty fabulous.  If only I could now make my own amazing camera so the pictures didn't look so ridiculous.  I will work on this...

Fan-Freakin-Tastic

I have been thinking and thinking and thinking today about what the hell to write about... I finally decided on:

I'm sorry, Awesome is out of the office right now.  Please leave a message and she will get back to you as soon as possible.  Thanks and have a great day!

I am currently taking the shiz class from For the Love of Blogs that I won over at IROCKSOWHAT.  I'm gonna hop on over there and see what else there is to see.  I am having a fantastic time looking over all the material...  They've answered questions about blogging that I frankly wouldn't even know I wanted to know... if ya know what I mean.  So far I would completely recommend it to anyone looking to blog. 

Anyway, short one today... I got so wrapped up in this blog stuff last night, when I tried to go to bed I couldn't sleep and hopped on the computer til 1AM!  This may not seem so late, but when you figure the Hubs gets up for work at 3:45... yeah, it's late... and reason #1001 why I feel so old. 

Have an awesome day and check back to see the progress! 

Monkey, Meatball, Museum

What a fun whirlwind of a weekend.  Having such a exhausting crazy exciting tiring great weekend makes Monday somehow more bearable. It seems that we've been celebrating Coopster's birthday for at least four days.  It began with monkey bread (fabulous, if I do say so myself) Wednesday morning and FINALLY ended Saturday with family at Tellus Science Museum and ye ol' Cracker Barrel.  I think it was all a pretty big hit.  I'm just slightly worried the next kid in line will expect such a huge shindig, if ya know what I mean.

Get this, my friends...  It takes monkey bread 3 hours total to rise...  This makes it both one of the most ridiculous and tasty things I can make all at the same time.

 We gained a new member of our crazy family this weekend as well.  Meet Meatball, the guinea pig.

This tiny creature is scared shitless right now, but I'm told if we have patience, he will get used to us.  Most humans are not used to us, what with all the noise and commotion and such... so I do wonder if poor Meatball stands a chance of living free of ...much anxiety, to say the least.

Another surprise we had in store was Grandma and Uncle Bro coming into town.  They live 8 hours away and we frankly do not see them enough.  The kids adore both of them and I hope they don't mind that they show their love in a very loud and obnoxious way.  Grandma was so excited, when she arrived at 4am on Thursday morning, she never went to bed!  As each kid came out of their bed, they freaked out when they saw her just sitting on the couch.   

By Saturday we were ready for our big trip to the Science Museum.  My nerdy 6 year old (I say that with nothing but love) has been talking about going for months.  I'm always so proud when we take the kids somewhere we wouldn't normally go in our everyday lives.  We live strictly on a cash budget.  When we can do something like this for them after careful budgeting, saving and planning it means a whole lot to all of us.  

 The Hubs and the Bro put on their suavest look outside of the museum.  We are openly weird people who can't take normal pictures.  There are other examples below.

Below is the first picture I took inside the museum.  Coop was very calm about it, but had been waiting to see "actual dinosaur bones" for a pretty long time.  He was quiet about it while there, but hasn't stopped talking about it since. 

Uncle "the Bro" is teaching.  Love the face.

Coop could have stayed and "dug" for dinosaur bones all day, I think.  I really think he was in heaven.  This kid has loved dinosaurs from the get-go.  I wonder if he has a future in it?

At the museum, they also had "panning for gems".  Z racked up some souvenirs.  

Z examines some tiny shrimpies.

Maximus pounds out a loud tune.

Once inside the kid section of the museum, both Z and Max tried to sit on this one dimensional couch.  Like any good mother would, I laughed my ass off. 

This is what happens when you have more than one kid...  no picture ever has any of them looking up at the same time again.  ...Until they're like 13 or something I guess... even then there's probably no hope:

Everyone had a wonderful time.  We're back to the grind today... that's my excuse for why this entry seems to bounce all over the place.  We're all trying to get back in the swing of things.  Our school starts Thursday and with the whole Tourette's thing, I guess I plumb forgot to plan one. damn. thing.  ...but I've got most of the curriculum, so time to get to work!

 

Maybe my next entry will be a little better thought out.  But then again...

Oprah's Sista

Craziest thing happened yesterday.  I'm hem-hawing around in the chips aisle at Food Lion when I notice Doritos are FREAKING $4.29 A BAG.  I am not only not used to buying chips, I usually don't pay so much for a single item on my grocery list.  Two things though:  1.) It's Coop's birthday the next day and he has specifically asked for Doritos for his day-before-his-birthday-meal (the reason for this is long winded... nevermind.) 2.) they are buy on get one free.  Even with a bogo, this seems expensive to me.  But, we don't normally eat chips and the longer I stood there, the more I wanted them.  It was for a good reason.  I took a deep breath and moved on.  (I hate Food Lion and truthfully, just wanted to get the hell out of there.) 

So after an eternity, I get to the front and begin playing Russian roulette, check-out style.  I nearly didn't choose the check-out I did because it seemed something was going on at the front of it.  Be it coupons or price checks, I didn't want any part of it.  I took my chances.  I was deep into a headline about which newly married star was pregnant when I heard the world's slowest cashier say, "I'm sorry, you're still negative."  The masculine black woman at the front of the line looks around and locks eyes with me.  "Gimme some of yours!" she shouts.  I can't describe my face when she said that because my mind went blank trying to realize what the hell she meant.  She then goes through my cart and begins pulling stuff out.  She grabs the two bags of Doritos and says, "I'm buying these for you!"  I said "Why?!" in a way that I hope sounded nice, but probably had a hint of please-don't-stop-there to it... truthfully.  She says, "'Cause I'm Oprah's sista.  Today's yo' day!"  I joked, "Well!  I'm so honored!"  She replied with, "Just come to my funeral and say something nice."  That lady kept pulling stuff out until she wasn't "negative" any more.  I'm still not clear on how all this came to be... I can only imagine that she may be one of those coupon ninjas that somehow get an unheard of deal where ever the go.  I don't care, I was thankful and it was probably one of the coolest things to happen to me in a while. 

Oprah's sista is the shit.

I proceeded home with a cool story and all the goods for a redneck, mosquito-filled weenie roast.  At the request of Coop, we were to roast weenies all together because the Hubs has to work tonight on his actual b-day.  Tonight is Kid Cuisine night.  They've never had one and have begged to try them...  I'm not going to look at the ingredients (barf).. just throw it in the oven.  Once won't kill them.  (Right???)  Anyhoo... I digress.  Here's our last night.  It ended with a righteous dance party in the middle of the living room... 

More Kix

So, last week as we were coming home from (dun...dun...duuuuuuun...) The Tourettes Appointment...  I whispered to the Hubs in the car, "maybe we should take him [Coopster] out for an icecream.  Ya know, talk to him about Tourette's and what is going on."  The Hub's point of view was that if the kid already tics more when we talk about it, why bug him more and bring it up?  He knows he tics, we know he tics, lets just leave it alone, the Hubs said.  I could see both sides easily and decided what I needed was a big fat Coca-Cola and a think anyway.  So...  we proceeded to get snacks and head home... it was any other day.  ...Except maybe calmer?  After all, we had our diagnosis.  No more worrying, no more wondering... just proceeding.  That's what I like.

Saturday I was folding our never-ending-laundry-mountain and Coop got to sniffing CONSTANTLY.  And when I say constantly, I don't mean it casually.  at all.  It's one of his most prevalent tics.  So I just mentioned, "boy, you've got the sniffles today".  He just said, "yup" and continued eating his Kix.  I keep folding.  Out of no where Coop quietly asks, "Mommy, is it normal to sniff like this?"  I was kind of glad he asked.  The conversation had such a nice, normal flow to it... no pomp and circumstance.  "No, it's not, Coop."  I said.  "But it is normal for you so it's perfectly okay.  You have Tourette's Syndrome and that's why we've been going to the doctors.  I want you to know that when you're here at home you can sniff all you want." Such a moment.

It's followed by, "Can I have more Kix?"  

I'm Sorry. I Can't Hear You.

Oh!  We're almost there!  It's almost time!!!  NAP TIME!  This has been renamed "Siesta Time" around the hizzy.  This is because I do not care if these kids are 18... between the hours of 12:30ish to 3:30ish Ima need a little space.  We home school.  This means we are together 24/7, and this is great... and all those mushy squishy good mommies would say this is just so wonderful... and it is... but gimme a break.  Seriously.  So Siesta Time means the youngest sleep fo' sho', while the 3 and 5 year olds play in their room or read or do puzzles quietly.  It's pretty amazing as far as amazing goes.  The mommies that don't put their kids down are really missing something, I think anyway...  I've had moms ask, "How do you get your kid to take a nap?"  Read carefully, it's tricky:  I put them in their room.  I say night-night.  I close the door.  Done and done.  

Now... something I have newly discovered about myself... on this quest called life...  I freaking love exercise lately.  Although sometimes I can feel a pang of guilt or two because our kid bath may resemble something like a gas station bathroom or outhouse, it is amazing to take 20-30 minutes to myself.  The beauty of the whole thing, really, is my Sony Walkman.  (What the hell?? Did she just say Sony Walkman? Shut the front door.)  To make this even more hilarious, my music of choice right now is Madonna's "Ray of Light"... it has a good beat.  Walkman or no, the best part is that when a little person dares ask me a single thing during this immaculate 20 minutes, I can point to my earphones, shrug my shoulders and say, "I'm sorry.  I can't hear you.  Go to bed." 

With this and a quick shower I'm ready for the insanity that ensues always, everyday at 3:30...ish.

Anyway, I got all Martha Stewart and made homemade bread for the kiddos this morning... up before the sun, slaving in the kitchen.  

(I totally ran out of bread last night.  Threw some crap together.  Threw it in the bread maker.  Voila!  4 hours later, bread.  I find the ol' bread maker to be nothing short of amazing.)  

Happy Friday.

Just Because.

This was on my counter early this mornin'.  Coop says these are his three very favorite toys:

...because I guess if you have a fluffy penguin and a cute little puppy, you need an ax-wielding minotaur(?)

Willy Nilly

Well... here we are.  On the other side of the X  My kid has Tourette Syndrome.
Now, can we just stop talking about it?!  gah. 

I feel mucho better now that it's been diagnosed.  I can't explain why, really.  I guess because we know it's there, it's not our imagination and from here we'll just deal with it... or not... really nothing to deal with.  To any stranger it just looks like the boy has an eternal cold.  Thing is, actually pointing it out makes all his tics happen more often because they've been brought to his attention.  So really, nothing's changed. 

I really think God has a pretty sick sense of humor (if you're now singing Depeche Mode, you rock.).  I've never liked to call attention to myself.  Not in a big way.  I like to be mellow and just chill.  I don't need to be in front of people or the center of attention.  For example... I hate giving gifts to people, physically.  I love making things or getting something special for someone, but the act of giving it to them and the whole, "OH! I love it!  How did you know!?" ... I can't stand that.  Make sense?  I don't like being put on the spot.  So selfishly, I think... "gee.  God.  HI-larious.  A kid with Tourette's."  We'll be drawing attention to ourselves all over the place.  This is a hurdle Ima need to get over.  But it's different with your kid too...  you'd do anything, it'll just flow.  I'm just trying to decide if/when the tics get worse, will my attitude be to educate or tell people to fuck off?  Really just my mood, I suppose.  I guess I'll allow most people one chance to say, (read it in a hick voice, it'd be funnier), "So... he says cuss words all willy nilly?"  I will educate at that point... but from there, don't ever say it again.  umkaythanks.

So now, in a few minutes I have to psych myself up for working out.  It would seem I don't have the time... but I really don't have the time not to.  I figure if things are all going to be hectic, busy, nuts for a while, I might as well be... well.  I'm definitely looking for a way to have more energy.  Oh, and before I forget... the Hubs was diagnosed with gout yesterday!!  He keeps moaning that he feels so old... as he should, really.  He is now on a "low purine diet".  So when preparing a menu for the week, I have to factor in:  a VERY low budget, a kid who can't eat wheat, "low purine", unprocessed foods, and above all HEALTHY!  I wish I could delegate this terrible job to someone else.  It really is ridiculous.  Don't get me wrong, I love to cook... but so many factors kinda take the love out. 

sigh.

Look at this face:

...it's all worth it.

Fire-y Fireball.

Oh, this day is fun.  In my head.  I'm freaking out.  A little.  Not much.  I'm okay.  

Hairy morning.  

Every morning is a whole lot like being shot out of a cannon.  Every.  Morning.  And although people think I'm crazy (I've made substantial peace with this) I usually try to get up with the Hubs in the morning.  He leaves the house by 4:30am.  As strange as it may sound, these 3-4 hours before the kiddos get up are AMAZING.  I drink coffee, watch the news, walk around naked, read, clean something, whatever the hell I want!  Refreshing.  Like being a real grownup.  This doesn't happen as often as I would like.  Frankly, I don't know how the Hubs does it, or at least how he doesn't die in a fire-y fireball on the way to work (yes, I think these things in a I-don't-have-enough-to-worry-about sort of way, but briefly... cause I'm sleepy... ya know?) because of falling asleep behind the wheel.  Anyway, my usual alarm clock is a small 3 year old screeching that he has to pee pee.  As if he needs approval... why????  Followed by the two year old getting severely pissed off that the three year old woke him up in the first place... followed by the five year old coming upstairs because the others are up... followed by the nine month old giggling because it all took place.  And then, nearly in unison, they all demand breakfast.  

This morning this was all followed by 3 calls:

1.  The pediatrician's office confirming they've sent all pertinent records to the neurologist's office.  (Legs start to feel wonky... we really have to go to the appointment now.  I was hoping I made it all up.)

2.  Babies Can't Wait calls.  They've made an appointment for Maximus.  Yes, his speech is delayed.  Yes, they need to evaluate.  Yes, we have to start all this in the wake of the Tourette's thing.  Rock.

3.  The Hubs calls.  One of my dad's friends has died of cancer.  ANOTHER one.  With each one my heart breaks a little.  I think of his family.  I think of his wife.  I think of the moment it happened... I hope it wasn't as horrible for him as it was my dad.  And selfishly I think of myself... soon I just won't have as many people around who knew my dad.  Hubs is upset too.

... And oh yeah!  A courtesy call from Comcast.  Internet's back on.  This is how I know I am addicted to the internet.  I panicked a little this morning when I couldn't get on.  I do a small happy dance.

This all happened literally in a span of 10 minutes.  Wears a girl out, at least mentally anyway.

In other news... this weekend Coop got his glasses.  All 6 of us went for the trip just to pick up these glasses.  Just to get out of the house.  Van overheated on the way.  Never a dull moment, I tell ya.  Anyway... I told Coopster he was free to pick out whatever style he wanted.  I thought it'd be a neat way to express himself.  I did explain nonchalantly that if he chose something along the lines of purple sequins it would take me a bit to get used to them.  I think he did pretty well.

I had to bribe him with a PB & J to get this smirk out of him.  I like the glasses though.  They are all red and black and marble-ly and artsy fartsy.  He looks so... intellectual.  And somehow, while claiming they were just what he needed, he picked up a book on Saturday and just began reading to his little brothers.  No sounding out, no nothing.  Just... read.  I love it. 

Drinky-Drink

The kids and the Hubs are upstairs watching The Little Rascals movie and laughing like banshees.  ...Needless to say, I snuck out. 

Yesterday was the Hubs' Birthday! 

 (Let's just never mind the trashed up kitchen in the background... and just by the way... these peanut butter cupcakes with homemade chocolate icing were THE Shiz...  I digress.)

And something cray-zay went down last night.  I got out of the house!  Again!  (Twice?!  In two weeks?!  madness.)  This time we went for drinks with the Hubs' BFF and his wife.  We tried out a local Irish pub first.  Thinking I'd heard sooo much about it, I expected it to be hip-happenin'.  Turned out to be pretty quiet and really just so-so... we livened it up with good conversation and had a terrific time ourselves talking about how old we are.  BFF noticed that while looking for a drinky-drink on the ol' menu, what he really wanted was an Irish coffee and so the jokes went on all night.  Yep, we're old.  I suggested another bar after a time, another that I had thought I'd heard so much about.  My ulterior motive was to maybe sneak a peak at some old pals still living it up, drinking and partying and being all... not parents.

Instead what we found was our sad little city was nothing to speak of at night.  Nothing going on.  The few people we did see that we knew just looked... sad.  I guess you're in a good place when you look forward to getting out and at the end of the night, look forward to getting back.  Being at home with the kids so often, I guess I just assume "the grass is always greener" or at least a little more exciting elsewhere.  It's comforting to see everybody's really just doing their thing and I really actually enjoy just doing my (one million multi-tasked) thing. 

As for the Hubs, he was lit... which probably makes for a better time for his audience than himself.  It's always pretty hilarious. 

Another pretty exciting thing is that I took two naps this weekend.  (What? that's not exciting????  be me.  it is.)  I am refreshed, people!  Good thing too...  ye ol' neurologist appointment is Tuesday.  ...I take a deep breath as I mention this.  It has me freaked out.  Will it change anything?  no.  So what does it matter??  Really.  We'll tackle it head on, together.  All of us.  But damn, what a hard road to tow.  One moment I day dream about telling anyone that makes fun of him to go to hell and punching them in the face, the next minute I want to cry.  (I may have a touch of emotional instability.... may.)  Best to just go to the appointment and not worry, I know.  Just such a bizarre head space.  hmph.

So, happy weekend to everyone and happy Monday.  I also wish you a very happy, yet boring Tuesday.   

Huzzahhhhhhh!

This is the view out of my front door at the present time:

Awesome, eh?  Gorgeous and breathtaking all at the same time!  When the Hubs comes home, first thing he will say is, and I quote:  "What the hell?"  I will try to explain it in a crunchily manner, "Why, the sun has excellent anti-bacterial properties!  These diapers will smell so sun-fresh!"  Truth is I am sick of running my dryer every single damn day for a few diapers and butt wipes.  As for the butt wipes, when they came out of the washer today and I was hanging each little moist square just-so on my tiny little drying rack, my brain finally said, "huzzahhhhhhhhhh!  You are just going to stick these stupid little things in a wipes box with soapy water anyway!"  Ugh.  This happens all the time, some idea pops in my head to switch up something I've been doing for the longest...  my brain's way of being sure I never grow too big for my britches and reminding me I can be a dumbass.  Yay!  Anyway, I'm sure my brand new neighbors next door are very excited to be living a few feet away from a house that could become all Sanford and Son at any second.  (We aren't that bad.  ...but we could be.)

Switching gears only slightly...  When I was first trying to figure out the whole cloth diaper thing for our 9 month Lola, she was in utero.  Never at one time do I ever have the million in throw away bucks that some websites would have you believe you need to buy a whole load of the cloth diapers they would also have you believe you need.  (that sentence confuses me too.)  Here's what I'm saying:  when you have a baby you do not need 20 all-in-one diapers.  This is also something my brain told me one night while piddling on Amazon.com.  All-in-one diapers are complete.  Put 'em on the baby's bum just as they are, take 'em off when dirty, throw 'em in the wash.  That's all fine and good, but I've got more time than money.  Suddenly it occurred to me that the old fold-em-ups did a fine job since, I dunno, the dawn of time.  I bought enough diapers and enough Thirsties Covers to survive and do laundry nearly every other day.  Cost me about $100 including Amazon shipping charges. My kid hasn't leaked yet.  The only thing I regret is the fact I didn't do this starting with my first kid.  Oh, the money I've wasted.

I think something else that deters a lot of people, is the idea you have to be some sort of amazing crunchy granola mom that lives for all things environmental.  I've seen blogs titled something like, "Adventures in Cloth Diapering" or "All Things Cloth Diapering" or "I Love Talking About My Kids' Poop On A Constant Basis" ...something like that, anyway.  It just doesn't have to be so amazing.  You have to do laundry.  Do a load of diapers every now and then.  I didn't do it for a life change or to reach nirvana.  I didn't even do it for the environment.  I'm just sick of paying so much money to literally throw away shit.  Period.  

Anyway, that's my two cents on cloth diapering.  Just do it.  I don't think you'd be sorry you did.  I'm not, especially since I realized today I am not too proud to just hang 'em up to dry out my front door.  Save what's left over for all the food your little ankle biter consumes to make the poop. 

Chillin with My Hommies.

Everybody's facebooking their little darlings' first day back at school.  Here's our yesterday:

Playing is kid's work... they are hard at it.  I love that we don't have to rush around just because the powers-that-be demand it. 

Shaun White Hoodies and Denim

I hope Target is proud of themselves.  I've been singing their back to school awkward-music-teacher theme song in a weird Jimmy Fallon sort of voice for a week now.  It's nearly as bad as June into July when I sang "...too many dicks on the dance floor..." for a month. Editing around the children... usually.  (Oh, Flight of the Conchords... you tickle me.)  It's like a disease.  These songs.  They get stuck in my head.

If you'll allow a soapbox for a sec, this is what bugs the hell out of me about kids programming and why my kids watch mostly public broadcasting.  (Except over the summer they have become oddly addicted to Dexter's Lab and Power Puff Girls onDemand...)  It's kind of my own science experiment.  Question:  What will little kids like when not advertised to?

It irks me though that even public broadcasting is "sponsored" by the likes of Chuck E. Cheese etc.  And in this brief 20 seconds, your kids are reminded, "Oh yeah!  I love that fattening crap!"  It's even worse on channels like Cartoon Network or Nickelodeon.  They are told they (although not the wallet holders of the household) should buy swanky, shiny, new clothes, shoes, toys.  I'd like to see what my kids can come up with without influence - without some corporate big wig telling them what they need to like or what's cool to like.  I especially don't need a kid telling me what he needs because some big colorful cartoon jackhole told him to.  Infuriating.  But I digress... 

High Falootin

I know I have a lot of dedicated readers out there (this is called the art of positive thinking...read on to learn more... the bullshit will just keep rolling) that depend on my blog as they do their very own lives!  So I must write SOMETHING everyday.  Right?  Right???  Right! 

Wow.  Today was totally amazing exciting something boring.  Well, not boring... I got a lot done.  Since we are pioneers of sorts, all pretending we couldn't walk to the store from where we live, I made:  yogurt, laundry detergent, chicken broth and cooked a chicken.  If you aren't making your own laundry detergent by now, it really is sad... unless you're one of those high falootin' types all rockin' the high density washers and shit.  Not I!  I cook this crap up by the 5 gallon bucket.  Leaves the house smellin' so very clean. Don't have the recipe, but want to be as cool as I obviously am??  Go to Eatin'.

Warn the newspapers!  Get ready for a serious news flash!  I tweeted my first little tweet today.  There may be hope for me yet with the whole technology thing...  Ima little leery of the whole social networking thing though.  I think it's awfully swell that I can keep up with the best friend I had when I was six, or stalk an ex-boyfriend on a whim, but I just can't be myself when I've friended both my religious education coordinator from church AND people I've met while drinking or various other forms of entertainment.  So it leads me to just be a neutral, boring, just-who-you'd-expect-me-to-be person.  Ick.  Let's just keep this blog a secret between you and me, umkay?? thanks.

...A-te Ape-ples and Ba-Nay-Nays

I've spent the day making stuff...  generally out of stuff that was going to go bad.  Banana bread out of, like seven squishy ba-nay-nays, for instance.  And also this:

Kale "Chips".  Yes.  It did go over as you expect.  

 

I'm crushed.  This shit cost 60 cents or so and if it had worked out, Ida been a kale chip making fiend.  To note, I myself tried to pretend to like it and after 10 bites or so, thought I may puke kale chips.  If you're pretentious enough to think either yourself or your little crunchy children may like such a thing, see:  Eatin'.

Gross.

Short blog today.  Woo!  Hoo!  Allow me to show you why:

This mess still awaits me upstairs... where 2 more of them are currently trashing the place eating.  So I'm thinking, why bother.  Ima tired lady.  I need to clean up the bathroom 4 boys share.  Well 3, currently.  Gross.  Every inch of the humble abode needs to be vacuumed, swept, mopped or some combo.  The Hubs makes fun of me when he comes home and I quickly run down the list of everything I've done during the day.  Hubs is a very easy going guy who frankly doesn't care what I did during the day.  Not in a mean way, just in a We-Have-Four-Kids-Living-Here-So-You-MUST-Have-Been-Busy sort of way.  Yet, when he walks in at 9pm and a little bit of lunch is still under the highchairs... its a little nerve wracking.  There are days where I think I may just get that "Sister Wives" show.  More hands, light work kind of thing??  (Ew.) 

On the Maybe-It's-Tourette's-Maybe-It's-Just-Anxiety front, there's just a whole buncha nothing.  No call from ye ol' neurologist.  I know that it typically works that way - all on their time, but JESUS!!!!  Freaking call already.  

hmph.

Kneading and Punching

Well... I survived yesterday.  This is a good thing.  I have a way of like, panicking when faced with, uh, stuff and then the next day being ready to kick ass.  (By panicking I mean, you may not *see* it, but when faced with hardcore stress I will do two of three things and usually all three:  get one pimple, poop and have a migraine.  TMI?  Too bad... its hard being me.)

So.  Here is what I'm doing today.  Beating things up.  Kneading and punching. 

The project du jour.  Sourdough bread... from my very own starter, mind you.

So, "come on!" you say.  "What was so bad about yesterday??"  Well... don't get your panties in a wad, I'm about to tell you. 

Once upon a time, in a far away land, Awesome Sauce here was a captain of a Relay for Life team.  I went to meetings, many times with my younger bro.  I was about 21 or 22, making him 15 or 16.  So... at one of the first meetings we sit our booties down and get all comfy in our seats.  Different speakers and motivators get up to talk.  An average looking guy gets up, nonchalantly, papers in hand and begins to speak about how much money has been raised and what not.  Suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he just rares his head back, shakes it, and makes a guttural gargling sound.  Like in a sitcom, my brother and I look up at each other and just stare in each others eyes.  My brain starts ticking and screaming to my laugh box, "don't do it!  don't you fucking do it!"  I look around at the rest of the crowd and no one, NO ONE seems to have noticed.  They seem used to it?

WHAT.  THE.  HELL. 

I realize I have just experienced Tourette Syndrome for the first time and only a douche bag would laugh about it, so I will do what any normal person would do and laugh about it with my brother... in the car on the way home... Cruel?  yes.

So this is what I remember when thinking of Tourettes.  Being a mom (and I think, a much nicer person now) I see the whole thing very differently.   I find it amazing that someone with Tourettes would choose a job like this where public speaking is a must. I also find his life story to be pretty inspiring.  I was surprised one night to find out they made a whole Hallmark TV movie about him.  Read more here:

http://www.classperformance.com/

Anyhoo... what the hell does this whole thing have to do with my yesterday anyway???   Months ago, my Coop started clearing his throat.  A. Lot.  Constantly.  By this, I mean, if he was sleeping, he wasn't clearing his throat.  This progressed to blinking, sniffling, coughing and finally deep breaths.  I began keeping a calendar page on all his many tics.  On a visit for one of the other children I mentioned to our (phenomenal) pediatrician that I may just bring the Ticster in for a visit with her just to document what was going on "in case".  That was May.  Tics came and went, at least one always present, waxing and waning.  The deep breaths got worse and more noticeable.  My sister came over one night and asked if Coop had 'asthma'.  To which I wanted to answer, "why yes... ASTHMA!  We just let him walk around all asthma-y like that?!"  Ugh.  

So in the last week the deep breaths have pretty much taken over.  Each deep breath takes his whole little body.  I am a Googler.  I do Google symptoms and grow them in my head.  I grow them until I know they could just be symptoms for the worst possible thing.  Of course, I Googled "Tourettes" with the very first odd clearing of the throat.  But I know I'm a Googler, so I assumed I was blowing it out of proportion again.  

But yesterday.  As we are "doing school", I'm standing over Coop and he looks up and says, "Mommy, it's just getting harder to keep doing this."  He rares his head back, eyes roll and he takes a deep breath.  I was back at the Relay for Life meeting and I thought I was going to throw up.  I said, "hmm." and hit send on my phone.  We were sitting down with the pediatrician 2 hours later.  

She got all her info, copied my calendar pages and said about her referral to the neurologist, "You've diagnosed this.  I've diagnosed this.  Whatever the neurologist says, you already knew and you're going to attack it head on and be fine."

Today I'm making bread.  Yesterday, I was a mess.

At one point the pediatrician asked me if I had any ideas. She specifically says, "So what did you Google"?  I personally think she likes to pick my brain.  See what I'm made of and stuff.  So I say, "I think you know what I Googled".  She just says "mmm.. hmm.." And for the rest of the visit it just becomes "That-Thing-You-Googled"... never the 'T-word'.  

She also mentioned generalized anxiety disorder.  That's not what my gut's thinking.  My gut's usually somehow a little more aware of things than I am.  Pessimistic? Naw.  Realistic.

So I make bread and wonder when the neurologist will call.  I'm ready to just get this thing going... and I think Coop is too.