Once upon a time last week, we drove to Michigan to visit my mommy and The Seester. Kizzle and I loaded up the boys and the dog in a VERY small Stratus; one that got smaller and smaller as the drive went on. Hunky drove out on the bike later because of *groan* work and school.

We stayed at my sister’s. Mom came over and we grilled and talked and drank beer. At one point, Dino went and sat on Seester’s lap and she leaned into him and deliberately burped in his ear. He turned around to look at her, and completely dead-pan said, “That was HAWT”. I laughed so hard I almost peed. That’s my boy. We’re SO proud.

My mommy and Elli’s mommy 

Then we went out for a couple drinks.
I keesd mai seester!

Gratuitious Drunk Bitch shot… did somebody goose the seester?!

Then we rode horses…
Mah Kizzle riding Foxy

Me riding Slim. He’s over 16 hands… it’s a looong way to the ground!

Rocky riding Slim

Slim’s got one dark eye and one watch eye

Horse hoof trimmings are considered
a delicacy among discerning canines everywhere

Deer are nothing but 500 pound RATS.

And then Elli discovered the frogs in the swamp.
She scared a batch of them and when they all jumped at once,
she went nuts trying to catch them all and jumped withers-deep into the swamp.
She smelled like mud plus pond scum plus horse poop with a side of roadkill.
We had to hose her ass down before she could come in the house!

Da Beer. Kizzle trying to turn my dog into an alcoholic.
Don’t worry, it was only a few drops in the bottom.

Sunset from Mom’s backyard

Bonfire was complete with beer, shootin’ the shit,
toasted marshmallows, and laughing so hard we almost peed.
Actually, I believe a couple of the gents present actually did.

What’d Smoky say?!

Click that picture up there and add a comment to tell me what you’d caption this photo!

Entries accepted until 07/25/2008 9pmCST– Winner will be announced 07/26/2008
Prize will be something from the bottom of my purse, perhaps a half pack of Fruit Sensations gum! Meaningful dialogue regarding whether the pack is half-empty or half-full is optional. But technically moot, as facts of math will prove half has nothing to do with it, because it’s almost empty.

The whole set is here. There’s some really funny ones, including one where Smoky winked at me which was fairly disturbing. I added some amusing notes and descriptions to many of them (there’s an hour of my life I’ll never get back). Feel free to add a comment to any and let me know what you think of my mad picture takin’ skillz. Flickr comments are almost as exciting to me as blog post comments. *nudge nudge elbow poke wink wink*

A refresher on buzzing like a bee through a set…

And a good time was had by all. The End. *curtain falls*

Hey, folks; I apologize for the blazing mania in that last post. I get a little wonky when I’m PMSing. It usually swings the other way so I was just as surprised as you. *snorts* Usually I can keep the Can ‘O Crazy tightly lidded, but oops, a little leaked out.

Whirlwind trip to STL; down on Friday, back up on Sunday. Here’s the post-game highlights.

On the way to St. Louis…
[HunkyDory passes a sign stating "<-- Eolia 2 miles"]
Dory: Did you see that town name? Eolia. E-OOOOOOH-leeeee-ah.
Hunky: Do you realize that name has only one consonant?
D: What, were vowels on sale on town-naming day?!
H: What if someone named their baby daughter that? You just know she’d hit middle school and the kids would call her Areola. Or just Nipple.
[laughing like 13 year olds]

A little later… [Dino has been talking non-stop for about three hours straight.]
D: Hey, Rocky.
R: [voice completely saturated with sarcasm] What, Oh Lord Of Everlasting Babble?! What else could you possibly have to say?!

[Boys camped out in Gramma and Grampa's living room. Lights out. Hunky went in there to get a box of kleenex]
Hunky: [stage-whisper] Go to sleep. You are rotten little boogerheads.
Rocky: [doesn't even miss a beat] Boing, Fwip.

We went to BodyWorlds3 which is very serious and educational and somber. I sent MelodyAnn a very naughty pic I took at the exhibit, because sometimes I’m 12. (Of what? Give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.) I’ll opt against posting it here now since I really am 35 most of the time. But I thought about it. I probably won’t be able to stand it and post it later anyway.

We got to see my folks’ new house and it was 72º most of the weekend. On the way home, we watched the temperature steadily plunge until we hit Iowa City where it was 34º and raining/snowing, which prompted a serious discussion on the possibility of a move to St. Louis.

On the way home…
[In the homestretch. Boys have resorted to telling each other really stupid jokes. Over and over and over.]
Dino: Knock Knock!
Rock: Who’s there?
Dino: Interrupting Cow!!
Rock: Interr–
Dino: MOOOOO!!!
[then they both got a serious case of the giggles and it all went downhill from there]

And, folks, I’m very happy to announce you helped me make it through February. For the last several years, February has been a very tough month for me to get through. The Black Monster usually gets the best of me, but not this year. I won, this year. Awesome. :)

Rip it, roll it, and punch it, dude. Watch out for the freezing rain, though. Road may be slippery when wet.

So… I thought, what we need is a Holiday Family Quality Time Activity. I decided that we could make a double batch of Chex Mix together. Afterward, I thought, what I really needed is A Healthy Dose Of Reality. Because for a minute I forgot that we’re completely incapable of making poignant holiday Kodak moments. Oh, well. Witness the festive dysfunction.

Let me start out by saying, my point-and-shoot takes really fantastic pics. If by fantastic, you mean, taking pictures that look either like they were inside a deep bat infested cave or on the surface of the sun. Photoshop is my BFF. I don’t get out much. That said, let’s proceed with the merriment.

It all starts out very bright and shiny.
The table is clean, the boys are on their very best mediocre behavior,
and I haven’t cried or done any shots. Yet.
“Cheeeeeeeese!”

Let’s start out by putting the dry ingredients together.
Within one minute, Dino wandered off.
“Mom, why are we measuring? Why can’t we just dump it all into one big bowl?”
“Because… because I said so. Where did your brother go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dino, get back in here, dammit!”

The battles begin.
“I want to put in the Chex.” “No, I want to put in the Chex!”
“No fair!” “Shut up!”
“I am going to take this box of Chex and
cram it right up your dookyhole
if you don’t quit fighting.”

Hunky reminds me that this is supposed to be fun and
we are making Wonderful Christmas Memories.
I clench my teeth behind the “smile”.
“Yeah, yeah; sure, sure; just take the friggin’ picture already.”

I blow my referee whistle and remind them that there is still time
to take all the presents back to the store.
The sudden quiet allows me to lay down the law.
“Ok, you can put in that Chex, and you can put in that Chex,
and you can put in the pretzels, and you can put in the nuts.”

The kitchen buzzes with activity. The war is in a temporary truce.
I inhale and exhale for the first time since we started.
“I’m trying to make Wonderful Christmas Memories for you here.
Let’s try to get along so we can make some
damn Wonderful Christmas Memories!”

I doggedly plod on and start putting the butter and spices together.
[buzz of busy activity]

I ask Hunky to shake it (the dry mix, not his pockets) like a
poloroid picture while I slowly pour the wet stuff in.
Hunky wisely wastes no time in obeying my every whim.
Rocky snatches up the abandoned camera and
captures the edge-of-your-seat action.
“Pour it slower.”
“Shake it faster.”
[Barry White voice] “Slower, baby.”
“I want you so much right now.”

I’ve poured the evidence of our weird family dynamics (i.e. the first batch)
into the pans and started on the second batch. Notice the natives have deserted.
[humming] “Gramma got run over by a reindeer…”

Oh, God help me, they’re back. And wired for sound. Notice Dino’s eyes.
That amount of energy in one child is quite the spectacle to behold.
[electrical buzzing of energy]

They start running around the house trying to test their theory
that if they run fast enough, the camera can’t catch them. True story.
[click]
“Was I a blur then?” “Can I see the picture?”
“Dang it, we have to try it again faster!”

This time I move fast enough the camera can’t catch me.
I go the cupboard for alcohol.
[racetrack sound fx]

I breathe for the second time since we started, in anticipation
of the holiday joy that is Eggnog with a Double Shot of Kahlua.
The boys continue to test their theory.
I stand oblivious; I’m gettin’ my holiday drink on, baby.
[zoooom... brakes screech]
“Was I a blur then?” “Can I see the picture?”
“Dang it, we have to try it again faster!”

Rocky buzzes with energy. He looks like he may be close to exploding, does he not?
I contemplate beaning him with the bottle, but that would be alcohol abuse.
“Don’t test me, boy. I can make another one just like you.”

Finally. It’s just me and my creamy, nutmeg-y, alcoholic friend.
[twisting cap breaks safety seal]

Dino continues the research for the “faster than the camera” theory.
“Back off, kid; Mom’s busy. Oh, yeah. Come to mama.”

Hunky enjoys eggnog sans Kahlua.
I’m having a difficult time fathoming the point of Kahlua-less eggnog.
“No, I will not smile. I’m very gruff and rugged and manly.”

Hunky gets Rocky to try eggnog. Will he like it?
[audience holds collective breath]

I think that’s a no.
“BLEK!”

Hunky breaks gruff and rugged and manly character.
“Now that’s funny, I don’t care who ya are!”

Now Hunky says Dino has to try eggnog.
He reassures him it is quite tasty; Dino remains a skeptic.
“Awwww, do I hafta?” “Yes, you certainly do.”

Dino employs an oft-attempted stalling tactic. It goes over like a fart in church.

“Yes. Down the hatch.”
“But this is my new Bionicle and his name is…”
“NOW.”

Dino sees the futility of the maneuver and reluctantly complies.
[audience holds collective breath]

Dino dittos Rocky’s vote. Hunky empathizes.
Final Tally: Boys, 2; Eggnog, 0.
“YUCK!” “Yuck.”

Ok, my boy? It’s like he’s on an double-expresso, Vivarin, and methamphetamine cocktail. With a Red Bull chaser.

Ok, duct tape? Getting more tempting by the minute.

For example… at this very minute, and for the last half hour, instead of walking wherever he needs to go, he’s somersaulting backwards. All over the house. And talking. Nonstop. The Jack Russell Terrier of the house has told him ok, enough already, back off. Emphatically. People… he’s worn out a Jack Russell Terrier. And I’m trying to just let him be and run damage control.

But it does get better.

The School Nurse contacted me today, and the relay service didn’t start the call with Have you used relay before? to offer potential explanation to newbies. He just dumped her in the deep end. I actually had to explain to her quickly what the operator was there for. So the poor woman was so confused. And for that, i711 is going to be getting a bomb threat… strongly worded email. I gave her my address so she could end the call and take a quick time out to put a hit on operator… email me. She asked permission to contact Hawk-i and put the smackdown… light a fire under their asses… courteously request the process be expedited so Rocky can get the exorcism… his meds quicker and back to “normal”, and I use that term as loose as a two-dollar whore… a Mexican tourist’s bowel movement… Clinton’s definition of sex.

I said, “Sic ‘em, girl”… “Yes, please. Thank you.”

But it gets better.

I went in around lunchtime to give him another little threat of no driver license until he’s 18… pep talk. I told him that he really needed to try hard to get a grip and that I believed in him and I knew that he could do it. And put my hand on his head and said a very quick fervent prayer. I opened my eyes, and I watched my boy take a deep breath, and I saw him visibly calm for a moment.

My mission partially accomplished, I went down to Dino’s room while the kids were at recess to give his teacher a little heads-up on the spring program fiasco earlier this year. Long story short… Teacher and Sp Ed Teacher thought it would go fine, Dino seemed completely psyched for it, he froze at the door, wouldn’t go in, *big inhale* meltdown complete with terrified sobbing, school counselor comforted me as I sobbed, “I’m so tired; why can’t I just have a normal kiiiid?” *big exhale* Oy. Wasn’t pretty. Anyway. Ok, pep talk for Rocky, check; warning the other teacher of potential meltdown, check; my work here was done.

But it gets better.

Received a little later from Wfgt today…

———-
RE: Rocky
From: Wfgt
Sent: Thu 12/06/07 1:51 PM
To: Dory

I really hope that you didn’t feel bombarded by all the emails/calls. Hopefully things are getting worked out and will smooth out soon enough.

The following is meant only as a tool we can use to gauge Rocky’s days…on a 1-5 scale (1 being productive/5 being duct tape). Yesterday Rocky shouted “fart” a few times during a lesson, I spoke with him about it so instead of saying it…he wrote fart many, many times [did I mention this woman is a genius? I never would've thought of that] to cover a piece of paper. (Much less distracting, if we are looking for positives). The good news is that Rocky did have a better day today with no “fart” outbursts. I attribute that to your pep talk, so THANKS! Yesterday was a 4 fart day, today was about a 2.5.

I just wanted your input b/c I really could go both ways on this. I CAN send Rocky’s work home with him but I truly don’t want to “punish” him for something that he can not control. [my love for this woman, albeit a non-lesbian sort, could potentially consume me] He did complete a few assignments today (better than yesterday) and the ones he did not, are not vital. He catches on so quickly to things that it wouldn’t be a major set back for him to have a few unproductive days. However, if you think that it would be best to keep him accountable, I can see that side too. I will do whatever you think is best. Me, I am crossing my fingers for a snow day….

Let me know what you think! Thanks again for the support and talk with Rocky!

Wfgt
———-

I.
Love.
Her.

But wait, it gets better.

Ok, what I’m about to tell you next, they don’t make a big enough thesaurus for all the words needed to adequately express my thanks. When I got home, I had an incredibly unexpected surprise. One of you amazing Intarwebb-Compadres was an answer to prayer today. One of you lovely Internets PayPal’d me $150 to get Rocky’s meds. And you don’t even know… I can’t even… I wish I could… yeah. Ok, imagine today is opposite day, and the most sparse, simple statement is actually the most elaborate, lavish, exquisitely perfect profession of gratefulness. Ok? Ready?

Thank you.

It. Gets. Better.

When we went to pick up the boys today, we went into the school so we could profess my undying adoration thanks to Wfgt and the amazing news that he would be coming to school medicated in the morning courtesy of the Angelic Tubes of the Internets. We thanked Wfgt for being straight-up and not pussyfooting or beating around the bush about the troubles. And for her incredible sense of humor. And her seemingly unending supply of kind patience with our boy. And just being awesomely cool in general. Wfgt thanked us for all our cooperation. (Um, we’re the parents, isn’t that our job?) And for our sense of humor. And for not going berzerk on her, psycho-parent style. It was a nauseatingly disgusting bloodbath of mutual syrupy admiration. I’m so thankful for a teacher that understands that you can either cry about it or laugh about it; it’s your choice.

HunkyDory’s official partyline is that yes, the meds help, but Rocky has to work hard to overcome the ADHD/Asperger’s Syndrome; pills aren’t magic or even a valid excuse to completely blow off responsibility. I have ADD and take meds too so I have that to share with him; I can tell him that Mom works hard to overcome and he can too. Some people have to work a little harder at life, and sure, that’s not fair, but life’s not fair so you might as well get used to it. He can probably recite that little lecture of mine along with me by now. So he’s going to do all the assignments he missed, but I will wait until he’s medicated to have him do it.

And now, Mitsy… The Weather.

And we’re having quite the snowstorm here. The City of Cedar Rapids has declared snow emergency, which sounds kind of scary but it just means that no one can park in the street so the plows can get through. Everybody in Cedar Rapids is closed down or canceled including both colleges. But let’s not postpone the Holiday Program! I do have to give them kudos on the whole Holiday/Christmas issue; like many other schools, they had a program about learning about many other kinds of celebrations. I’m sure you’re familiar with this, but let me just tell you something that made me raise my eyebrows. The gist of it is the children are painting all the windows of the shops downtown. Guess what shop wants the kids to paint their windows with a pretty “Closed for Ramadan” motif?

The Snack Shack.

Yikes.

But I’m oh so pleased to report that The Dinosaur did not freak out. He participated (for the most part; I’ll take what I can get) by doing the same moves that the other kids did to the music. He sang with the other kids (a little bit; again with the taking, getting). And as if that wasn’t enough, he marched (literally) up the microphone, delivered a line of the program perfectly, and marched smartly (again, literally) back to his place.

You guys, this is big. It was a good day.

Just when I think I can’t hack it anymore; when I think that just can’t take another step; when the black hole seems altogether too enticing; when I lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel… God steps in and uses astonishingly empathetic Internets (you are my peeeepuuuull) and a super-cool teacher; He unbinds my mind so my words they flow like cleansing, cool spring water; and He softly puts his hands on each of my boys’ heads… and my eyes are stinging? And the tears aren’t sad? What is this?

Is this what happy feels like? I kind of forgot. I like it.

God bless you, my friends; He’s sure blessed me.

A long, looooong time ago (ok, only 25ish years), in a land far faaaaaar away (ok, Fremont MI), I played Aggravation with my grandparents. It had a black board, four different color marbles and two dice and worked like Sorry!. Both grandparents played that game with me for hours and days and weeks.

How in the name of all that’s sacred did they do it?!

I can’t play a board game with my boys for two minutes before I’ve ripped out my hair and set fire to it as a diversionary tactic to buy myself 15 precious seconds in order to quickly leave the room, jump in the car, and buy the next ticket out of the country to go buy my Himalayan Whistle Kid. Himalayan Whistle Kids don’t ask you to referee and endure mental torture under the guise of Family Game Night. Himalayan Whistle Kids sit in the corner and make origami out of Tupperware parings and golden mushroom gravy, silently thankful for the bountiful blessings I bestow upon him.

I’ve been watching what weird-ass Google searches led people to my blog. I’m sorry to say nothing noteworthy has turned up as of late. It’s high time that situation was rectified.

Gerbil fist anus heaving breasts. Turtle nostril vibrate peanut butter. Earrings nipple piercings Prince Albert. Incandescent lightbulb stuck pelvic x-ray. Leprechaun rape Sasquatch erotic. Ginormous tumescent phallic wonder. Me love you long time. Llama sexy single girls gone wild illegal. Pulsing womanhood slippery entice wandering eyes. Harley Davidson shop exhibitionist Yankees voyeur vibrate vibrate vibrate. Semen bukkake alluring tantric orgasm. Hitler rectal donkey punch romantic evening. Foaming pubic kneecaps licking toe jam. Tongue giraffe kneel job. Sexy Premier Chain expose nudist Santa. Oh, me so horny. Oh, and smegma.

That oughta do it.

Yesterday The Rockstar took his life into his own hands and pointed out the fine Polish heritage sprouting from my chin. I ran into the bathroom hysterically bawling, and Hunky gently took Rocky under his wing and suggested to him some much less violent ways to die.

The Dinosaur thinks very visually. And reads a lot of Calvin & Hobbes.

Dino likes Britny. I told him that Britny would be coming over soon, and he said, “I just love Brit-tah-nee.” He flourished his hands from his hips and up above his head and stated matter of factly, “Hearts are coming out from me all over.”

Well, I think I’ve done enough damage for one day. Tune in tomorrow, same bad time, same bad station.

Rip it, roll it, and punch it, dude. Word.