jokester

My 7yo son LOVES to tell jokes.  Jokes that you can't help but laugh at because they make no sense whatsoever.  Knock knock jokes are his specialty.  Here is an example of one of this morning's jokes....

Him:  "Knock knock"

Me:  "Who's there?"

Him:  "Boob"

Me, pausing and giving him a look before I reply:  "Boob who?"

Him:  "Aren't you glad you don't have big boobs?"

This results in huge, belly-busting laughter on my part because 1) the joke makes no sense and 2) I have big boobs.  This joke led to a few jokes about butts and penises.  (He is in love with talking about "inappropriate" things right now.)  That led to me putting my mom hat on and reminding him to tell "clean" jokes.  And he replies with a joke about poop.  Which was doubling funny (or shall I say punny) and had me turning around so he couldn't see me smile.  Egads, that kid makes me smile.



PS.  Blogger tells me this is my 900th post.  I want to cross 1000 this year yet.  :)  Thanks for reading.

step one

we, or more precisely i, made the decision to have the children officially evaluated for sensory processing disorder (SPD) the other week.  what a squeaky wheel.  called OT and they need a referral from a doctor.  called the pedi and talked with two nurses about said referral and then waited three days to hear back if the pedi would make the referral.  late friday, we got the news she would and now i have been waiting again.  it's wednesday and no news.  so i call the pedi and yes, the referrals were faxed over.  call OT services and yes, they have received the referrals.  however, there is usually a waiting list for OT so she needs to check with the therapist to find out how soon she can get us in.  we'll get a call back when they can schedule us. 

deep breath denise.  in.  out.  in. out.

i need to remind myself we have taken step one.  the referral is done and in the hands of those who need it.  now it's just a waiting game.  and in the meantime, struggling to find new and effective ways to help my kids manage themselves. 

Accepting Life As Is

“Kiss your life. Accept it, just as it is. Today. Now. So that those moments of happiness you’re waiting for don’t pass you by.”” ~ Unknown

I came across this quote today when visiting a cool site I follow about Sensory Processing Disorder and it resonated with me.  I feel as if we are in wait mode currently with Phoenix and I struggle at times with that.  I often tell myself "just get through today or only one more month until his neuro appointment."  And then there are moments when he does something that is so, well, him.  And it will cause gut-busting laughter or wide smiles at his antics or silliness.


My children have some issues.  While they don't technically fall under the special needs category I think, for us they have special needs that some other kids do not have.  And that is okay.  With all of the struggles that we have been through and all of those yet to come, my children are perfect.  And they bring happiness into my life.

I have been struggling of late.  Enough that it has impacted my life enough that I made the decision to go back on some medication to help.  I feel as if I never have down time to myself and while I am aware that I simply just need to take the time, that is always easier said than done.  Home life is crazy.  Work life is crazy.  I am not managing my stress well at all.  Some of it is not accepting what life simply is at the moment and wanting it to be better.  Some of it is not taking time to honor myself and recharging.  My negativity and the lack of positive morale at work is killing me and yet it has been difficult for me to stay positive and not buy into the sack of crap that work has become.


Perhaps I need to do a 30 day happiness project where I post at least one thing that made me happy that day.....that's an idea.  I'll start today.

A New Life

It's been one month.  One month since A has been on her medication.  Let me preface this post by stating that medications are not for everyone.  I can only speak to our experience and from our standpoint, medication for our child's anxiety issues has been a lifesaver.

Deciding to have your child medicated is not an easy decision.  It is one we made after much thought, months of therapy (which continues), and in consultation with a child pyschiatrist.  I was resistant to the idea for a long time.  And after a while I became more open to the idea.  After day in and day out fighting with her or her worries, not knowing what you say could cause her to explode, not sure if your child is feeling okay about herself today or if she wants to hurt herself.  It was exhausting.  And lonely.  I have shared some of our experience here, but not a great deal.  Many people who know A have no idea how far her worries go or ever see the "real" thing.  It took the experiences of others in similar situations, careful thought, and loads of discussion to make the decision.

And it was one of the best decisions we've ever made.  She is a different A.  In a great way.  I was intensely worried that she would be zoned out or changed in a bad way by the meds.  She's not.  It allows her to have her real self shine through.  The worries don't get in the way.  She's happy, not bogged down by intense emotions, and is able to handle talking with mom & dad without someone melting down.  Rather than having daily, or almost daily, incidents to deal with; we have once in a while incidents.  She still does have worries, still has self-esteem issues, still feels strongly about things.  But she can do so without having this extra "thing" tagging along.  That is the best way I can think to word it.  The "thing" does not control life anymore. 

The Dr. indicated she'd be on the meds for approximately 6 months and then we will wean her off to see where she's at.  She may need them for only 6 months, 1 year, a couple years, or perhaps forever.  We simply do not know what will happen as she develops into her pre-teen, teen, and adult years.  The hope is that if things can re-wire themselves she won't need meds long-term, but if she does, so be it.   As she grows, she can utilize and understand more tools to help herself.  We continue to use cognitive methods and tools to help her, and will continue to do so.

I love that little girl.  Fiercely.  And I know in my heart we made the right choice for her. 

Oh No You Didn't...

I was about ready to throw down minutes ago. My roomie is watching Jon & Kate plus 8 and Kate is talking about how she is a nurse...when my roomie shouts "Oh no you're f'ing not!" Yes, shouts it. I'm like, what? She then says, "You are a fucking stay at home mom, not a nurse." The look of incredulation(is that a word?) on my face must have been strong as the roomie states, "well, she's been at home for how many years. Doesn't she have to keep up with classes and stuff?" Roomie is also bitching about how Kate is "such a brat sometimes." Take a look in the mirror, sweetheart. You might learn something.

I chose to laugh with a hint of "shut your hole" and ignore it. But hell, the urge to strongly discuss this topic with her and give her 22 year old ass a little education is there.

So, my lovely stay at home moms.....what do you think of that? I can say that while I occasionally said "I'm just a SAHM" and felt like all I did was wipe snot and ass, I still valued my education and experiences. What's your take?

The Mommy Brigade

I like to say that although I drive a minivan, I don't drive or act like I own a minivan. I've always known there were THOSE moms. The ones who look you over when they meet you and your child, that discuss their child's lives like a soap opera, they drive minivans or SUV's like it's their second home. I became very close to what I call the "mommy brigade" when Ariana went to Safety City. All these minivans, SUV's, and cool station wagons (are those every really cool?) pulled in. Myself included with my lovely burgundy Venture. Then the mom's and children started piling out and into the building. Mom's who know each other wave and start chatting about how their summer is going and whatnot. And the cliques are happening while our kids are out a fucking two hour safety class. I came into the building with no makeup on, my hair in a ponytail, and shorts with a Cher t-shirt. The mommy brigade all wore capri's in like color with a white or light colored non-descript shirt. I'm not kidding when I say they ALL had the SAME hairstyle, the bob that barely brushes the shoulders. Each of their children are in picture perfect clothing that all matches and their hair is combed and styled with lots of frilly bows or gelled into a nice preppy look for the boys. Fine. I get that things needs to be perfect in their world. That's alright with me. Just don't expect the same damn thing from me and my children.

My child has dressed herself that morning in an outfit that does not match if it's a two piece. Dresses are easy since it's just the one article of clothing. Pants or shorts with a shirt...well, you never know what she'll come up with. I love the fact that she marches to her own beat. But I also worry about it too. I want her to have the confidence in herself to say "screw the matching shit" and wear whatever. Do some of her combinations make me cringe? Sure they do. But I know that if I suggest another shirt or bottom, she'll get pissy. It's not worth the battle and if she likes it, who am I to say she can't wear it. Her hair is rarely in a pony and within an hour of brushing, it looks like a nest again since she is such a active fart. Oh well, I tell myself.

Back to the mommy brigade. That week passed quickly (thank god) and I didn't really think of the mommy brigade again until school started. Then the minivan, "perfect" moms arrive with their children and they group up and it becomes apparent that they are discussing all the kids (and parents) they don't know from 4K. What the fuck. Who gives a shit? Seriously. Who's child doesn't go and play right away, who cries when it's time to go, who listens the best. On and on, and on. Who fucking CARES! I quickly dropped that crap from my mind and onto our own little world did I go.

Until I went on a field trip last week with the kindergarten classes to the farmer's market. The parents were paired up with another parent and 5-7 kids per group. I got a mommy brigade mom. Perfect hair, perfect nails, perfect makeup, clothes...you get the picture. She asks the following questions in quick succession:
Which one is yours?
Does Ariana have a nickname or does she go by Ariana?
Did she go to 4K last year? (to which I say yes)
Oh, she must have been in the afternoon class? (yes)
I figured that since I don't recognize her from my daughter's class. She was in the morning. (well, duh I'm thinking)
What do you do?
What does your husband do?
Where do you live?

You get the picture. I felt like I was having a mommy interview. Each group was assigned a color and the kids had to find fruits & veggies in their color. We had six kids and guess who was asked to pick out the items first. This woman's daughter and her friends. Ariana and four of the other kids (all from the afternoon class) are ignored. And quite honestly, they didn't say anything so that may have been an issue as well. Finally, the kids got into a rotation so that each child had the opportunity to select an item. Afterward we were finished and heading back to the bus, the questions started up again. I was never so happy to get on a bus before. And when we arrived back at school and was preparing to leave, I passed the mom, smiled, and said goodbye. She looked at me (or at least I thought she did), turned her head and walked away. My first thought was that, ooops I must not have passed the test. Of course, I try to give the benefit of the doubt that she didn't hear or see me. But I think she did. She went over to the other moms she had been hanging out with in the beginning and the chatter started up.

Quite frankly, I try not to give a shit about crap like that. But I do. A small part of me still feels like I never quite fit in. Doesn't everyone want to feel included?

Another thing that came up with another mommy. I don't listen to children's music every time my kids are in the minivan. I grew up listening to my mom's music and I think it helped expand my listening opportunities. I had a friend, who does do the whole kids music thing all the time, mention music the other day when she heard what was in my CD player in the van. With Phoenix in it at the time. "Don't you listen to music for the kids when you drive?" Hell no, is what I really wanted to say. I said that no, we occasionally listened to a Disney CD, but that we listen to whatever while I drive. If it happens to be a soundtrack, or Metallica, or classical, that's what they listen to. I do try not to have lyrics that include swearing on while the kidlets are in the van, so if one of them says Fuck You, it's not from the music. It might be from a driver who just cut me off (no, I'm kidding, alright). If I listened to kid's music daily for more than an hour, I think I'd drive myself off the road.

I know I'm rambling, so I'll try to wrap this up. I guess what I'm trying to say is that no one is perfect. Everyone has something that they'd die if others found out. No one's kids are perfect, all the time. If you wanted a perfect child, you should have stuck with a doll. It doesn't matter how much money you have, one can still be a rockin' rental unit if you don't have a lot of money. It doesn't matter if you spend every waking minute with your kids, thinking of your kids, doing something for you kids...those of us who don't are still good parents.

I'll leave this for now as I'm losing my train of thought as Phoenix bombards me with screaming requests for a second popsicle. Nice, huh. I feed my kid a popsicle to keep him occupied so I can write this up. *wink* Think of me today, tooling around in my minivan with Yoda at the helm (I'm serious, I have a Yoda up front with me) and Godsmack blazing from the speakers.

Would you like Parm with that?

Phoenix is eating a slice of kraft cheese off the kitchen floor and sprinkling parm on it. I can't remember the last time I actually washed the floor...I know it was in the last two weeks...but this might put me up for "Mother of the Year". Not.

I'm picking my battles. He doesn't want a plate, and I figure nothing on the floor will actually kill him. So, rock on my child. Rock on.

What kinds of things do your children do that some others would frown upon? I can't be the only one.

Can I shit in peace please?!

Seriously. My kids get into the biggest shit when I take 5 minute for a dump. I need to either lock them up, schedule my dump for after bedtime, get rid of all the food in the house, or sell my children.

This was yesterday....



And just now....





How the hell do I get that off the love seat? Freakin' butter, great. I stink like butter and everything is slippery. Fuck.

My kids totally must hate me.

Enjoy your laughter. I hope you all pee yourselves.

Really? Seriously?

So, my youngest child has taken a delightful fancy to removing his clothing. He apparently likes to be in the buff. You should see that lil hiney take off when you are getting him ready for a bath, it's just too darn cute.

I laid him down for a nap the other day and much to my dismay, he cried for a while, then played in the crib, and then....ah, silence. I enjoy my tranquility for a while until I hear him awaken. Usually he plays a bit or talks to himself, so I was in no rush to go into the room. Big mistake. Huge mistake. Awful mistake.

He crapped his diaper. Before he must have fallen asleep. He removed the diaper. And there was crap EVERYWHERE! The smell was atrocious, like almost gag-worthy. Ugh.

He's waving at me and all I see are brown fingers and hands. Brown spots on his arms and chest. It's on his legs, butt, and feet. How the hell am I going to clean this up? I find a clean spot under his arms and lift him up, deposit him in the bathroom on a rug that I figure if worse comes to worse, I can toss it. I attempt to remove most of the crap by using wipes to collect if off his body before I throw him into the tub. Nothing could be worse than this, other than having a poopy tub to clean up too. ;) Some of the poop is dried and stuck on, you know the kind I'm talking about.

He is delighted and attempts to escape into the living room. Um, I don't think so kid. I soap him up good and wipe him down. Empty the water right away and refill it to help rinse him off. He's looking at me like I've lost it, what are you doing mom?

I ended up just removing the crib sheet & pad and folding all the blankets & clothes up inside. I shook them out right outside the door, just in case, before taking them down to start them in the washer. I've had to deal with this before with him, but never this bad. The front rails and the one side railing was covered. I wiped them down twice, once with a wipe to clean them off and then with a bleach wipe to clean it. Yuck.

I consider that my good mommy deed for the month.