Winding down

Finally, I settle down.  1:30 a.m. and I'm starting to actually feel like bed.  Night owl tendencies, coupled with insomnia, compounded with a strange new anxiety thing I'm blaming on my new migraine med and sleep is earned not fallen into.

Anxiety seems to be flooded around lately here though.   Just before we traveled south for the class reunion Sonny Boy had what I would loosely describe as a panic attack one evening.  Seems it all stemmed from viewing a few minutes of a silly computer game at school.  I talked him down from that event but he has since viewed the game and reimagined his fears again.  This game has suddenly turned my almost 12 year old into a kid who is scared of the dark.  Not just disliking a dark room and prefers a little night light, but full on needs a bright light.  More than a couple of times in the last few weeks I've woken up to his bedroom light flipped on  and it never being turned back off until I get up to do it myself.   I had to broker a regular treaty of Versailles the other night to convince him it was better to keep the closet light on instead of the hall light.   Next week he is excited to go on a scout camp out, he will be in a tent with another boy roughly his age and I certainly worry.  While I know the creatures from the video game are make believe, and his rational brain does too, I certainly don't want him to have a full blown panic attack without a parent there and there won't be the handy thing of a light switch in a tent.

The game that fired up Sonny boy's imagination does sound creepy.  I haven't checked it, but Hubby has.  It frankly sounds pretty benign, not really even something I would ban him from playing but I guess it hits the right nerve with him.  How do you know though?  I have a common sense thing, I'm pretty sure it's not a good idea to let him watch Nightmare on Elm Street, or play some realistic army shooting game but to shield him from all questionable media is impossible and or extreme.

These are new questions for this generation of parents.  The good Lord knows if my Mom didn't want me to see something she simply didn't let me see it at home.  If I didn't have a friend with permissive parents it didn't happen.  Now if I say I don't want to see /play a game the next time he is near a kid with a tablet all bets are off and the lights are on in the middle of the night.

Well I'm finally really groggy, I'm off to bed.

The Campaign

When Hubby and I first married we combined our thrift store / garage sale finds and had two couches, neither of which was fit for a dumpster.  One was a HUGE behemoth with busted springs that even our twenty something year old bodies had a hard time climbing out of, and the other was a brown plaid sleeper circa 1974.  Several months of coaxing, whining, pleading, and finance juggling I finally talked him into purchasing the couch and loveseat we are currently sitting on.

One would think that after enduring 17 years, five moves, two large dogs, two growing boys,  and Lord only knows how many "oops" Hubby would agree that it is time to replace the furniture that we sit our rear ends on the most.  Not my husband.

So my campaign begins.  I start by internet shopping.  Finding styles and colors I like etc in a reasonable price range and showing them to him and touting how wonderful they are.  Hubby grunts " We don't need a new couch, these are fine"  I ignore.  I keep shopping.  I find something else.  Standard reply of " The kids will just tear up something new" and you see where this is going.  It has for a few weeks now.  I'm not deterred.

My campaign is a long slog, not a quick sprint.  Eventually I will get him into a furniture store to "just look"  When we get here it will be a fast sprint to the finish line as then it will simply be finding a style and price we can agree on.

I will continue with the picture show for a while yet.  We still have quite a bit of work to complete the kitchen.  Worn couches are hardly noticeable when you have raw sheetrock around the kitchen window, no baseboards, and the exterior of your house is several different colors (and not by design).  The final countdown will begin when the kitchen work starts getting pulled together and the living room starts looking very shabby in comparison. I have a hunch he will cave then.

Vote for NEW COUCHES IN '15!

BLAH!

That's about what I feel like lately.  I'm just going through the motions the last week.  I can't seem to shake the complete funk I'm in.  I keep blaming weather and the need to get outside but really it's not that.  I'm just tired.


Tired from the whirlwind trip south for the high school reunion.  It was a lot of fun.  I saw people I haven't seen in 25+ years.  My class had a good showing as well.  I didn't get to speak to many, caught up with a few unusual folks.  (my 6th grade teacher) and met spouses and children of classmates.  Hubby blended right in with the boys from my class - my class was mostly boys for some reason - and they have all friended him on FB and are planning a "man trip" for the summer.  Oddly enough one of my classmates has the same  career as Hubby which is really odd because there just aren't that many people out there in the world doing that.


Sonny Boy's illness passed as quick as it appeared and he was as right as rain by morning eating the breakfast in the morning like there would never be "free" breakfast again.  My theory that he ate fast food and swallowed too much pool water was probably correct.


Tired is the key word when dealing with Mom's shenanigans lately.  About three weeks ago she fell in her kitchen and must have landed directly on her chin and blackened her chin.  I've never seen a bruise so purple.  It looked like someone drew a purple goatee on her.  One week later I took her to Sonny Boy's band concert and for some crazy reason she insisted she wear heals.  I don't know why I didn't put a stop to that right there before she left the house, but I didn't and of course she rolled her foot walking into the gym.  From her reaction I knew immediately she had broken another bone in her foot so I exchanged shoes with her and crammed my foot into her too small shoe and gave her my sensible rubber soled loafers.  She refused to go the doctor the next day and she had doctor appointment on Monday anyway, so I didn't push but I said she needed to wear her "boot" which of course she didn't.   Monday this week I take her to the doctor and she's hobbling so I drop her at the door of the doctor's office and go park.  When I walked through the doors I hear the intercom "Medical Emergency, 1st floor Lobby" my first thought in a laughing manner is I bet that's Mom - it was.  She somehow lost her balance and sprawled in front of the elevators.  Three hours later we left.  She has "numerous" fractures in her foot in various stages of healing and will go see a podiatrist next week.  The primary care doctor said she may be casted.  God help me.


I KNOW what angers me most in this whole nightmare is the fact is that she does so little to help herself.  Her ability to even try is gone.  She begs doctors every trip "Take me off some of these meds" and they say you have to quit smoking first but she doesn't put out the first cigarette.  She complains about being weak but never tries to exercise.  Mom's diet is worse than an 18 year old frat boy's. 


I am going to call some assisted living places this afternoon and get some pricing.  Hopefully I can have Hubby run some numbers (he's really good at that kind of stuff) and see if even feasible.  We could probably bring in home health cheaper but honestly she needs more structure.

on the road

Forgive the horrible grammar,  spelling etc please.   I'm sure it's even worse than usual since I'm typing on my phone.   Driving down to Arkansas to my class reunion and I'm suffering from insomnia in a hotel room while the children are not.   Not much else I can do in the dark.

I'm excited for the reunion,  it should be fun.   It is an all classes reunion so seeing people who graduated years ahead and behind me too.  600 people are scheduled to attend which is massive for a school that only graduated 60 or so kids a year.   After the big reunion my class is getting together at a local Mexican joint.

Perusing the listing of attending I'm struck by who is not attending.   It seems many of the people who didn't leave are not coming.   It also striking that those who were the hot shots in school,  the jocks, the homecoming court are not on the list.   Not all of them of but at least my class and those classes closest to mine.

Things that make you wonder. .I guess I'll see.

Fun times.   Sonny Boy just woke up and said " I puked in the bed"   after a flurry of cleaning I'm watching him hug the toilet wondering what the hell I'm supposed to do with a puking kid in a strange town in a hotel room in the middle of the night alone.   Motherhood makes us warriors.

Oh Facebook...

Say the above with a disappointed tone.

Some days I get so annoyed with Facebook.  I honestly don't know why I read the drivel but like a bad car accident I scan through the newsfeed a few times a day.  I post occasionally, but unless I can come up with a snide remark on the general human condition or report some happy or big news I don't say much.  The exception is that lately I've been posting a few articles here and there concerning the mess over in Ukraine as several of my FB friends are also fellow adoptive parents that are following the news.

Today though has really gotten my goat.  My news feed is filled with no less than the following:

2 different people angry at another for slights either real or imagined in their lives.  Both are serial drama queens who seem to be stuck living a version of Jr. High.

1 spreading the gospel of essential oils

1 proclaiming how fantastic home school is

3 daily bible verses - one from the book of Mormon

1 update on the newest recipe that happens to be gluten free ( I don't think that many people are medically in need of gluten free)

4 or 5 copy and paste status that start out "With let me see how this turns out.." 

2 recipes ( hasn't anyone heard of pinterest?)

15 southern friends playing in the 1/4 inch of snow in their backyards, wondering if there will be school tomorrow and freaked out over 0 degrees.

Don't get me wrong.  I like seeing that your kid made honor roll, you shot a monster deer and even a couple of your vacation photos.   What I don't like is pushing your agenda (even if I agree with it - I do admit to being guilty sometimes) Relationship drama of any kind. 

I think I need to whittle my friends list.

School is squashing reading

My eldest son was a rather precocious reader.  Sonny Boy was starting to sound out words before kindergarten, and reading picture books fluently by the end of kindergarten. His early ability translated to a love of the written word and a reading ability well above his age.

First grade brought with it the emergence of the reading log.  This dreaded requirement to read 20 minutes a day and log it down was a pain.  To be honest I didn't push it and simply signed off on it.  Sonny Boy may not read the required 20 minutes on Mon -Thurs but I knew he would more than make up for it when he settled with a book for four hours on Saturday afternoon.  The reading logs through 4th grade were much the same and while I didn't theoretically approve of them it wasn't really an issue and I didn't feel bad when I signed the logs.

Fifth grade has thrown a wrench in the system.  This year the reading logs have become more detailed, not only requiring that he log down how long he read but what he read, which pages and a weekly summary of the material.  This is also signed by yours truly.  This log is turned in the first of the month and is graded on the amount of time he logs.  Needless to say this log is a monthly battle.  Sonny Boy reads well above the required amount of reading time but forcing him to record it takes all the joy out of it.  What was once an enjoyable pass time that mom not only approves of but actually urges him to do has become just another homework chore.

I have seriously thought about telling the teacher to stuff her reading log but of course I can't do that. I fill Sonny Boy with platitudes about buckling down and doing work that you don't really want to do, etc etc but it breaks my heart to watch him put off reading because he will have to remember what  pages he read instead of just enjoying the story.

Reading logs are evil.

Life in the fast lane

Minor annoyances are chipping at my sanity lately.  Not one of them is a big deal in and of its self, but add it all up and I need a good stiff drink at the end of the day.

Monday I busted through Mom's yard in order to give her car a jump. ( doctor said she could drive though I still don't think it's wise, sure is easier on me though). I did this in an effort to save hubby the hassle and keep Mom from calling a tow truck and save her a buck.  I dragged out the jumper cables and handily got her car started -I'm awesome like that.  Mom backed out and went to the auto parts store to purchase a new battery.  I then was handily stuck fast in Mom's yard.  I was spinning all four tires on the truck.  I cussed a little, grabbed a shovel and Sonny Boy and we shoveled the snow out from behind the tires.  Spin.  Stuff some yard debris under tires and spin again.  I let fly a string of expletives and sent to the kids home while I threw a little fit in the truck before going home to leave the mess to Hubby.  Hubby comes home and has the same issues (isn't wasn't my lack of snow experience at least) and had to get a buddy to bring his truck over and give the truck a tug.  It amounted to the fact the truck tires are trash but both Hubby and I have been loathe to part with the several hundred dollars needed to replace them.  I suppose we really do have to get on the ball with this soon though.

Sonny Boy will officially leave Cub Scouts next week.  He will receive the Arrow of Light Award.  It's kind of a big deal, not an Eagle rank honor of course but it is an award he can wear on his uniform forever.  Igor and I will remain behind in the Cub Scout pack.  I hold a couple of leadership positions and frankly I've hit scout burn out.  I'm having a small crisis with what to do for Igor's day camp this year.  Previous years of day camp I have attended with Sonny Boy I was pretty happy with how it was ran.  Last year I attended as a chaperone and was not at all happy with how the camp was run.  This year I'm not sure I want to spend money on it this year, though Igor had fun.  I'm debating sending him to a local Y day camp that has roughly the same activities, smaller group sizes but does not have his scout buddies.

After 20 years of glasses I have made the leap to contact lenses.  So far so good though it is a little unnerving taking them in and out.  My left lens is a toric lens which is proving a little more difficult to adjust to but I think it will get there.  The strange part is how totally naked I feel moving around without my glasses.  Honestly I feel like I've forgotten an important article of clothing.  

Life in a nutshell.

Fun in Paris

Lots and lots of walking.   Dogs are barking loudly.

...and A Happy New Year

                On the way to a recent scout event after a morning at a wrestling tournament.

I can't say life has been boring, but compared to the wild ride our family has been on the last couple of years it's super calm.  I'll take it.

Christmas went off with little disaster.  We went north to the in-laws for the holidays.  Three hours or so into a 9+ hour drive I remembered that Santa's gifts were tucked neatly in my bedroom closet.  I promise that will give you a nauseous feeling quickly.  In coded language Hubby and I made the decision there wasn't much we could do about it and continued on with a plan to go shopping and replace the gifts when we got to our destination.  Thankfully stubborness to outlive video game begging and a benign gift wish list from the kids made the gifts easy to replace and I returned the original gifts (after I unwrapped them) to WalMart today.  Honestly I think we could have come to clean to the kids, after all they are 11 and 8.  I can't really believe Sonny Boy thinks there is such thing as Santa and I'm pretty sure Igor isn't fooled anymore either.  The two play the game well, so I suppose we will too.

Hubby in some grandiose need to plan for the kids decided the family should do it's own Santa Lucia ceremony.  Hubby's grandmother is Swede and Hubby and his sister were part of the local town festival as children.  So we dressed up the youngest three boys as Star Boys and the only girl as Santa Lucia.  I spent a day or two sewing and crafting those dunce hats (see picture previous post) and Mother-in-law planned the doings and baked Lucia buns.  Things went well, kids played along with little fuss and even the wild card niece playing Santa Lucia was cooperative, something we had all held our breaths for.  It was such a hit that Mother-in-law proclaimed next year we do Ukrainian Christmas, potatoes and vodka, I can do that. 

I'm getting antsy, in a couple of weeks I will join Hubby for a week in Paris, France.  I'm really excited and have been haunting travel sites and have no less than four guidebooks beside my easy chair.  The middle of January may not be the world's best time to see the city of light, but at least the crowds will be mild and compared to the well below 0 wind chills forecasts for this week it will be balmy in France.  I just hope my fat rear end can keep up with the massive amount of walking I'm sure we will be doing.  The weather cooperated for a few hours on Saturday so I logged 1.8 miles at a decent clip and my bum ankle let me know about my lack of exercise.  I'd sure like to get out and do more but I refuse to risk frostbite and I no longer have a gym membership.  No, we haven't won the lottery or anything.  Hubby's company has him going to meetings the week before and the week after my trip in France so he'll just stay between.  Easier and cheaper on the company anyway.  I cashed in all his frequent flier miles to boot.

The next couple of weeks I'll spend getting things in order.  You know a mom can't leave without a to do list being a mile long before she can go.  Mother-in-law is planning on coming to managed the kids for the week so I must have things smoothly running for her.

Can't complain, only kid logistics to manage..knock on wood.

Merry Christmas

 On