Sweep Success!!!

Dear Teachers, Employers, Co-Workers who Reside OUTSIDE the Boston/New England area*,

You might notice those of us who live on the East Coast are a bit bleary eyed this morning. Some of us might fall asleep at our desks, or during meetings, or even while you are talking to us in the hallways. This is because we all stayed up WAY past our bedtimes (kids included!) to see our Beloved Red Sox sweep another World Series. We had no choice. It’s in the blood.

So please excuse us from our work today. We’ll be back raring to go tomorrow!

Sincerely,

Red Sox Nation

*If you live in the Boston/New England area, this should have been a region-wide day off. If not, look into that. You deserve it.

GO SOX!!!

Dear Tramadol,

Thank you.

Thank you for providing me clear vision and relaxed muscles after the nurse gave me a shot in the bootay with your relaxing goodness. Thank you for the burning, searing pain that gave way to sweet, sweet relief from that evil Migraine that had me in her clutches. Thank you for allowing me to return, at least briefly, to my employer, where the staff nurse took one look at me and my shaky limbs and promptly suggested I return home for just one more day to allow all of your delicious effects to fully develop and blossom.

I took her advice. Mostly because I work with children who hit below the beltline in height, and who knew hugs could hurt so much when you just had a shot in your hindquarters? Apparently not me in that moment. Oops.

Without you, today would have been possibly my last. I am now off to bed, where I will dream sweet dreams for the first time in two weeks, I hope. Hell, I’d just be thrilled with sleep.

You rock. Seriously.

Hugs and Kisses,

Shash

A Day in the Life of a Migraine Sufferer

• 7:00 am – Wake up to jackhammers pounding your head and wonder if you did approve the Presidential Wing to be added to your house.

• 7:02 am – Realize that it’s all inside your head, dumbass. Oh, and you’re the only legal adult in the house, and those kids aren’t going to dress themselves. (But oh, how you wish they would!) Turn on TV, because Matt Lauer makes it all better, right?
• 7:15 am – Tap Kindergartener who is sleeping in a coma beside you. No response. Hurtle yourself to the other side of the house to wake up Middle Schooler. Grunts and groans ensue. Tell him he’d better get up, and soon. Remind him to feed family cat.
• 7:20 am – Crawl back into bed. Put on weighted eyepatch and hope it does the job.
• 7:30 – 7:55 am – (hear local news in background) Curse the eyepatch out, because it didn’t work; your head still hurts. Get up, throw on clothes that you hope match, carry Kindergartener out to the sofa, dress him, get lunches ready, get backpacks ready, cajole the younger one to PLEASE, PLEASE EAT A WAFFLE, I BEG YOU!!!
• 8:00am – Eat waffle while loading the kids into the van to go to school.
• 8:05-8:15am – Put hat (Arkansas Razorbacks hat that Belinda gave me) and sunglasses on, knowing full well it isn’t enough, but hoping that the migraine medicine you’ve been popping like tic tacs starts working SOON. Pick up other neighborhood kids, head for school.
• 8:30 am – Return home, crawl into bed. Call work to let them know you won’t be in today. Hope that one of the teachers who saw you drop off your kids will vouch for you looking like death warmed over, and squinting. Put on eyepatch again, warmed up this time, a pillow over your head, and go back to sleep.
• 8:45 am – Answer ringing phone. Curse MaBell. Tell Hubby I love him, go back to sleep.
• 10:05 am – Answer ringing phone. Curse MaBell. Tell Co-worker I’m dying, go back to sleep.
• 10:05 am – 1:30 pm – Sleep, glorious sleep. Wake up feeling like a Mack truck hit me.
• 1:30 pm – Decide to go to store to get healthy stuff in which to cook, because you just want this to STOP ALREADY, and maybe, just maybe, this will offer some sort of relief.
• 1:30 – 2:15 pm – Go to store in a ratty T-shirt, sweatpants, and the aforemetioned baseball cap and sunglasses. Run into old friend you haven’t seen in years. Die on spot. Find some of the items needed, but not all. Curse the fact that organic food stores are far away from where you live. Resolve to go there tomorrow. Pick up frozen pizza for the kids for dinner; you’ll just starve. Head for home.
• 2:30 – 3:30 pm – Rest on sofa in darkened family room. Try not to fall asleep so you don’t miss your son knocking on the door to be let in. Fall asleep anyway. Wake up to sounds of banging on your door. Let child in, thanking wonderful, amazing friend who picked your child up from school for you. Close door before you melt from the light outside.
• 3:30 – 5:30 pm – Watch child play video games. Doze on sofa. Think about making dinner; decide it’s high time the Middle Schooler learns how to operate an oven. Hope he doesn’t burn the house down. Doze more.
• 5:30 – 9:00 pm – Cook dinner. Pizza. Me? Brown Rice. Doze on sofa until you fall asleep, briefly waking to hear the boys softly moving around the house, taking showers and generally being awesome. Awaken to the boys watching Family Guy. Consider blocking TBS.
• 9:00 – 9:30 pm – Turn lights on low, read stories, set coffeemaker, brush teeth, tuck in bed. Take more medicine, and hope tomorrow is a migraine-free day.

Good night!

So Gosh Darn Cute

…I had to post it

Scamp is currently playing Star Wars: The Video Game in the darkened hovel that is my living room, and has proceeded to go into the section where you can put in codes to unlock stuff. Once there, he decided that the Wookies didn’t know their ABC’s and carefully, meticulously did as many of the ABC’s as it would allow him.

He got as high as F. The program wouldn’t let him add any more.

Tomorrow we get as high as L!

Insert Working Title Here

Lately, I’ve been having a difficult time with things (read below for further proof). I’m sure that the cluster migraines I’ve been having haven’t helped (like, say, TODAY for instance), but it’s more than that. I’d rather sit on my kiester and talk about working out rather than doing it. I’d rather read every blog out there than write what’s happening to me on mine. It seems to be easier to say I SHOULD post comments rather than actually comment, even when I want to. My head is full of ideas and things I WANT to do and SHOULD be doing, but the spark, the motivation to actually get up and do it is missing.

This is SO not like me.

I am the queen of getting things done. The Hubby has been known to go away for 4 days to work; leaving rooms with white walls, only to come home to freshly painted, colorful walls. He has joked to several people that he’s concerned that one week he will return home to find I have moved and just forgot to tell him. My point is that I’m usually full of energy and go, go, go. Recently? Not so much.

The worst part is that I see myself doing this and I don’t like it. I AM still doing things at school in real time, but personally? I’m at a crawl. I don’t think it is depression, because I’m not really depressed or sad; I just have no energy or desire to follow through on things that pertain to ME. Everyone else? I’m at the ready.

I guess I’m just not ready for me.

Can It REALLY Be True!?!

The Police to release new album?

click here for more info.

Huzzah!!!

(and now back to our regularly scheduled praying; already in progress)

Smoke and Mirrors in the Funhouse of Education

With Spiff, his Asperger’s issues were pretty much laid bare for all to see. Once we started searching for answers, the specialists helped us figure out which way we need to go to help him. The services fell into our lap, like manna from heaven. Granted, it wasn’t as easy implementing them at first, but over the years we have been able to figure out what we needed, when we needed it, and then like the rabid dog that I am, sink our teeth in and get it done. Or at least, see results.

This has worked well for us.

Well, the times, they are a-changin’.

This is Scamp’s first year in the mainstream classroom. When he was three, we had the school tag him with a developmental delay diagnosis, which allowed him to go the the Special Needs Pre-K program. He blossomed. He bloomed. Not without issues, mind you. He was kind of like his brother, just not as severe. Kind of like a Spiff Lite.

As I have said, he’s not exactly doing so great. And the school wants to get rid of his diagnosis, because after a certain age they don’t recognize it anymore. He’ll be that age very soon. So what’s a mother to do, you ask? Well, this mother subjects her child to a series of tests. And the results show that yes, there ARE issues, just not HUGE issues like his brother, and that in time and with assistance, things can change. So I have my doctor write a letter basically saying Developmental Delay but with other wordage so we can keep and begin services to help him.

It isn’t enough. The school plans to terminate services in February. The End.

My plan? I’m glad you asked. You KNEW I had a plan, didn’t you? I’m crafty like that. Well, the current plan is to see a neurologist and have Scamp tested. Then, my plan is to discuss with the doctor the possibility of a PDD-NOS diagnosis for Scamp. Basically, I’m going to push for it, simply because it allows me the services that benefit Scamp ASAP. I’m not above bribery either, to be honest. And even though many family members disagree, and worry that this will haunt him forever, I DON’T CARE. The school will only spring into action on their own when he begins to fail their system, and I refuse to let that happen. I REFUSE.

I refuse to stand by and watch him fail. Not when helping him NOW is the better way to go.

I’ll keep you posted on what happens. Wish me luck.

*Cue the carnival music*

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How far will you go for your children? Will you fight, or just roll over and play dead? Tell us all about it, and you could win a $200 VISA/MC check card. Yep, it’s another PBN Blog Blast, sponsored by Harper Collins.

Better Luck Next Time

So I’ve sat here for close to two hours trying to think of something to share that doesn’t come across as complaining, whining, condescending, or annoying.

I’ve got nothing.

I’ll try again tomorrow.