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.”

This is for my friend MelodyAnn…

1. What’s your favorite Christmas carol?
I can’t decide between Sleigh Ride or Carol of the Bells. I love them best by The Boston Pops Orchestra.
2. Is your tree up yet? Is it real or artificial?
It went up a week after Black Friday (by the way, I consider Black Friday a holiday in and of itself). It is a fake tree, and pre-lit which I thought was going to be sooo cool. That damn thing only worked one year. The next year we got it out and one row of lights wouldn’t light up. And in addition to being a piece of crap, it’s stubborn too; Hunky, who is a Journeyman Electrician, couldn’t fix it.
3. If you could travel through time and spend Christmas day with ANY person, EVER, in the history of all time, who would you choose? Why? Let’s make it harder: It must not be a deceased loved one.
I would want to be at the first real Christmas. In a cold, nasty, stanky, Holy stable.
4. What was your best ever Christmas present?
Hunkster got me a diamond pendant necklace the first Christmas we were back together. I’ve worn it every single day since then. Honorable Mention goes to my step-brother and his wife with a card offering a couple hours of babysitting. Oh, and one year they got me candy-cane striped high-top chucks. These aren’t my faves because of dollar amount; but rather the thought that was put into them.
5. What was your worst?
I can’t remember one particular gift; but I can remember that the Christmas I was 11 sucked ass. I didn’t get anything on my wish list, anything really special or thoughtful. It’s like everyone generically asked a salesperson, “What should I get a 11 year girl? Oh yeah? Gimme one of those.” Or maybe I was just practicing being ungrateful, sullen, and angst-ridden almost-teen.
6. If you could have one thing, anything you wanted, but ONLY from 12:01 AM Christmas morning until midnight Christmas night, what would it be? Remember that it will disappear after midnight, although the memory will not. Let’s make it harder: It can NOT be time spent with a deceased loved one.
I would like the entire time completely alone with Hunky in the most beautiful, peaceful resort on earth.
7. Did/Do your kids believe in Santa?
Somewhat. Every time either of them have asked (and it hasn’t been often), I answer, “Santa is a really nice idea, isn’t he?” I don’t put any From: Santa gift tags or make a big deal about leaving anything out for Santa. I think Rocky was in third grade when he said, “No, really, mom, is he really real?” and I asked him, “What do you think?” and he said, “I think he’s a really nice idea, too.” And then I reminded him not to ruin it for his brother. HunkyDory tries to focus on what Christmas is really about. I don’t even have Santa decorations.
8. Do you watch all the cheesy Christmas shows, and if so, what is your favorite one?
I do, and have many of them on DVD! The Grinch is my favorite.
9. If you could do one great and noble thing, one act of charity and/or good will, what would it be, AND…. would you still do it if no one would ever know that it was you who did it? I expect you to be honest, here….
Cure cancer and Alzheimer’s Disease and give the drug regimen away to anyone who wanted it. I’m pretty sure I would.
10. Does your family have any special traditions for Christmas? If so, what’s your favorite one?
When I was really little, like single digits little, we stayed every Christmas Eve at my mom’s sister’s house. My uncle and older cousins would put hay out for the reindeer and after we went to sleep, they would go gather it back up so we would see that the reindeer ate the snack they put out for them.
My mom always got my sister and I new jammies and wrapped them up and let us open them on Christmas Eve so we’d have new jammies to wear that night. When I was 16, she got me some real Dr. Denton’s in my size! I kept that up with my boys. I don’t think they care about it as much as I did when I was their age, but it may mean something to them later.
Every Christmas Day before we open gifts at Hunk’s folks’ place, Dad reads the Christmas Story out of the Bible. I love that.
Also, I think we started a new tradition that we’ll continue. Two years ago, Hunky went and got Chinese take-out for dinner. Last year, he did it again and as we were passing the food around the table, I said, “Hey, didn’t we do this last year?”
Oh, and the last two years in a row on Christmas Eve, we had a stress-induced, yelling, stomping, door-slamming, me-leaving-in-a-weepy-huff fight. I informed him that should that particular tradition not make a reappearance, that makes it way more likely for him to get what he really wants for Christmas.

I’m not going to tag anyone to do this since Miss MelodyAnn didn’t really call her holiday questions a meme, but it’s good thought-provoking questions if you need something to write about!

Rip it, roll it, and punch it, dude. Leave a trail of tinsel in case you get lost.

So if you don’t blog for a few days, you get a post-it filled with scribble and you serve yet another piping hot bowl of Blog Stew. It ain’t much, but it’s filling.

It was an interesting weekend. Dory’s done it again. I took the last of my Wellbutrin on Friday and couldn’t find my big four month stash that came in October. We turned the house upside down all weekend looking for it. Then Hunkster called the office on Monday. Turns out I picked up the emergency ration that they gave me when they forgot to order it, and never picked up the big stash when it came in. So we picked it up yesterday and I’m back on track. How do I forget things like picking up my mind-altering pharmaceuticals?! D’oh!

Friday The Rockstar went to school medicated and came home and announced he had a very good day! Yay!!! He also said that he caught Wfgt reading my blog during small groups, so when you comment, say hi to her and thanks for being the grooviest Wfgt ever! AND also thanks again to the Intarwebb Angel, too!

Friday night we went to a CMA meeting…

…then out to Fifth Gear to see Strangely Familiar. Great time, but did two tequila shots and lost count of the beers, then remembered too late that it’s a bad, bad idea to try to keep up with The Kizzle. The Hunkster ended up driving us home, of course.

Saturday was spent nursing a headache in my neck and looking for my meds. My office is cleaner than it was, which is saying a lot. Over the weekend we all watched LotR 1&2 together. On the 50 inch with surround sound, just as God intended.

And we have a snow day today because of this huge ice storm coming through and I hate snow days. “Mom, can I…” “Mom, will you…” “Mom, let’s…” “Mom, he won’t stop…” “Mom?” “Mom!” “Mommmm?!” mom mom mom mom mom mom mom mom mom …ad infinitum…

Things I never thought I would have to actually utter unto my children but found myself rolling my eyes and stating:

2. “Stop licking your brother’s pillow.”

I thought I’d pass on this link from Jessica which will be very interesting for anyone touched by Asperger’s Syndrome.

Only 14 days left until Christmas and 8 days until my birfday! I still have to find something for my nephew, and then my Christmas shopping is done. I still have to find something for my mom and The Seester, but I don’t have to worry about that until we have our Christmas in January. Here’s Elli opening one of her presents last year. I hid her present this year on the shelf in my closet and the little spaz already spied it. She’s asked and asked for me to get it down and give it to her, but she’s just gonna hafta wait like the boys.

Rip it open, and “ooooo” and “ahhhhh” over it even if you hate it. It’s that time of year.

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.