Thursday, April 28, 2011


Have you ever had one of those days that you knew was going to be really, really long before it even really started?

That was today for me.

M2 wandered in shortly after her alarm went off this morning.



"Mommy, my tummy hurts. It hurts a lot and I feel like I might urp."

Ahhh, crap. I checked her forehead. No fever. Double bother. In my world, a sore tummy sans fever first thing in the morning means I have to keep her home because at some point during the morning, especially if I send her to school, she will blow chunks, which she did shortly before 8 a.m. Then she went back to bed. I called the school. You know this happens too often when the receptionist says, "Do you want to get her homework today or when you bring her back tomorrow?"

By 8:30, when M1 and I were beginning school for the day, she was up again. She made her bed and changed clothes but said she was still too sick for breakfast. By 9 a.m., she'd changed her mind about food, too, and downed a glass of apple juice and a toasted muffin top.


Let the day begin.

The rest of the day pretty much followed the morning's preset formula. It went something like this:

-- M1 threw a spectacular fit after being reminded about an assignment. I told him if his attitude didn't improve that he would not be able to attend his swimming lesson. He wrote me the following letter: "Dear Sarah, I am sorry for throwing a big fit. I chose to write this because swimming is important to me. Your only son, M1." Guilt much? :D

-- At the swimming lesson, one of the other moms asked M2 if her school was out today. Her response? "No. My tummy hurt when I woke up, and I threw up so I didn't have to go to school and could stay home with my mommy."

-- After the swimming lesson, I thought I'd go sign M1 up for summer camp. We arrived at 12:55 p.m. That's when I discovered they take lunch from 12-1. I didn't feel like waiting. Camp registration can wait one more day.

-- We got home, I fed the kids and myself some lunch, and then I suggested some quiet time for everyone. M1 went willingly to his room, finished up some work, and read calmly on his bed (have I mentioned how much I love how his medication works??). M2 went to her room, played her toy piano for 15 minutes, and came out and said she couldn't "lie still" any more. I sent her back for a little while, but she wouldn't/couldn't stay down or quiet. Fine.

-- I made the tragic suggestion that M2 have a pretend art class at home instead of the one she normally has after school on Thursdays. This led to a 90-minute meltdown that culminated in a torn-up piece of artwork and my daughter singing a song that went something like this: "This is the song that never ends. Live it up, live it up! This is the song that never ends. Live it up!" This is to be repeated ad nauseum with crazy dancing and coherent speech optional.

-- M1 discovered how to make a robot that was NOT the one shown in the instructions on the K'Nex box. This is big.

-- The cat went outside. Ten minutes later, I heard an awful caterwauling on the porch. It sounded injured, so I got up to investigate. No injury. Au contraire. She had caught a bird. And killed it. And brought it to me to share. She played with it for a few minutes for my benefit and then dropped it under the glider and left it. Gosh, she's generous.

-- Finally, after the children went to bed, M2 began giggling. Then she came out and said, "Guess what? I discovered a toot machine in my room!" Oh, my. Oz went into her room a few minutes later and discovered she'd taken a water shooter, covered up the firing end, and pushed the tube down to make noise. She was so proud of herself. I couldn't help but laugh.

As for me? Well, it wasn't a bad day. 'Twasn't great, but at least I didn't get a pair of pliers stuck in my tire!

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Dear Oz

Dear Oz,

Be warned that when you come home today, the house will smell like lemon verbena. I managed to make it to Yankee Candle while running errands today and combined a sale and a coupon and birthday money to create candle bliss.

You should also know that I may or may not be shipping you to the store on your way home to pick up some PediaSure for M1, because apparently he's gone completely off his feed thanks to the meds. So far today he has consumed the following: One toaster scramble, one glass of apple juice, one free cookie from Wal-Mart, a few bites of leftover paella, and some cheese and crackers that I allowed him to take to his room. You know our son. This is not normal. I am enjoying the great irony of having one child who needs extra calories to supplement his current diet and one child who has to watch fat and cholesterol in an attempt to lower the latter. Oh, the hoops I jump through...

Thank you again for the lovely footstool/storage unit. Perhaps we should get you a matching one and nix the ottoman. Then the cats couldn't hide under it and attack feet at random. (I say this in jest, of course. How could I seat as many people at my teas if I didn't have the ottoman to shove in front of the television?) Also, thank you for being the egg Sherpa today. My agoraphobic nature is grateful. Speaking of which, I did suck it up and return the silverware... and promptly forgot to look for a replacement set.

Finally, please call at your earliest convenience and let me know which you would prefer for dinner: Burritos and refried beans, pork chops with stuffing and salad, or minestrone with rolls. If I do not hear from you by 4 p.m., I may assume the worst and refuse to cook altogether. Blame the candle. It's called Island Spa, and I think I'm on vacation.


Your Darling Wifums

P.S. Look! I have a sense of humor again! :)

Tuesday, April 26, 2011


The holidays are over. Many people think the holidays are a three-month thing. October, November, December. I beg to differ. They start in October and end at Easter. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, slight break, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, Mardi Gras, Easter. Undecorating the house after Easter is usually a bit of a letdown for me. It seems weird to just put up generic spring/summer decorations. I don't have as many of them, either, though I want to get my rump into Yankee Candle and pick up a couple of bright yellow lemonade-scented candles. My cheeks are puckering just thinking about them.

I am enjoying the clean look of the house without the decor, though. I have one candle on the coffee table, set out just to burn. I have one glass pitcher with fake sunflowers set on the shelf in the living room. A few more candles decorate the shelves in the curio cabinet. Sunflower towels (of which I have more than a dozen, largely thanks to my mom) are hung in the kitchen for their seasonal use. A daisy wreath adorns the front door. That is the extent of my current decorating.

A clean look is good for my mental state right now. I've been feeling confined, like I'm claustrophobic in my own home. I've purged lots of stuff from various rooms and closets and recently redecorated my own bedroom, and I still feel like there's just too much junk scattered everywhere. I keep looking around and seeing stuff to toss. My mind asks me, "Are we ever going to play those Wii games again? Will the weather soon be nice enough to burn all the boxes? When should I tackle the giant pile of paperwork? I need to get rid of all the clothes that I will probably never fit into again!"

I see all the things around the house that need improvement, too. The carpet's old. Steam cleaning that helped, but it's still old. Many walls need to have the paint touched up. The furniture is full of nicks and scratches. The couch cushions sag. The glass in the back screen door has a crack in it from the time it didn't latch properly and dropped the three feet down the track to the bottom.

In other words, it's depressing to look around my house, and the pseudoclutter of decorations (which the kids adore and so I will not stop putting them up) wasn't helping. I am hoping with the good, pond-filling, cleansing rain we've gotten over the last week, I'll start to feel better soon. I hope to plant the garden this weekend, so maybe that will help my mentality. After all, a little puttering in the dirt never hurt anyone :)

Thursday, April 21, 2011


Coffee. It's 10:05 on a Thursday morning. I have yet to make coffee. It hasn't happened yet. It will, though. Ohhhh, it will.

I don't like coffee black. I like it with enough sugar and fat to make it taste absolutely nothing like real self-respecting coffee should. Creamer is my friend.

I used to be a cappuccino addict back in high school. Some of us crazy folks would show up at the band hall around, say, 6 or 6:30 a.m. Band didn't start till 7 or 7:30 and school itself didn't start till 7:50, so yes, we were nuts, but it A) gave us time to get our homework done before school and B) gave us time to run down to the local QuikTrip and get cappuccino/coffee. Sometimes we also picked up doughnuts either from the QT or the doughnut shop that was on the corner near the school. Coffee and doughnuts? Yes, please. Coffee was required for any road trip taken before 3 or 4 p.m. Did it give us a caffeine high? I guess some people had one. I dunno. I've always had a high tolerance for caffeine. The only time I ever really got a buzz was after chugging an entire 2-liter of Surge soda during a contest with a friend of mine. I believe he won. This was also in high school. Oh, the memories...

Anyway, when I got out of high school and started working, I didn't always leave myself time to go get my beloved cappuccino before I had to be at the office. Pepsi A particular brand of pop was my alternate caffeine source for those dreary afternoon hours, but even that slipped by the wayside when I got pregnant with M1. For a long, long time, I went without any caffeine at all. I didn't think I was a fan of creamer because one of those tiny little cups doesn't do diddly-squat to flavor what I consider a "real" cup of coffee, and getting two kids out of the car to run into a convenience store for coffee isn't realistic on any level. That's a luxury relegated to people with older kids or kids in school or the working moms who manage to get out the door early enough to have that extra time.

Then my friend C introduced me to her creamer of choice, a caramel macchiato flavored substance that brought back beautiful memories of jump-starting cars in the school parking lot in the rain (I had a rechargable jumper kit in my car) and sitting around playing marathon games of ERS while wondering if one of our other friends had managed to successfully hack the band hall printer so he could shrink down our history class vocabulary list to palm size. Nobody saw the point of having vocab tests in history. So nobody studied. And yet we all passed.

We called that "cooperative learning."

I had to go to the store and pick up some of that caramel macchiato creamer. It was a gateway drug. I have since experimented with many other flavors in my morning cuppa joe. The caramel macchiato is still my favorite. There's just nothing like puttering around the house with the smell of sugared-up coffee in your hand. It truly is a life-giving substance.

It's 10:30 a.m. now. I think I'll go make some.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Oh... Wow...

I remember now what my son is like when he can concentrate. Oh, wow, it's been too long. Remember how I said I wasn't yelling and it was making me crazy to not yell? I didn't even *have* to yell to get his attention yesterday. Today... yes. But yesterday had a lot of the placebo effect going on.

Let me back up.

On Monday, M1 and I went to see his pediatrician to talk about putting him back on ADHD medication. She asked if we wanted to try the nonstimulant Intuniv, and I said, "Ahhhhh... no." I thought about it, but in the end, I'm about 99.9% sure that guanfacine ain't gonna cut the mustard, long-acting form or not. My son does better on caffeine, which means stimulants are helpful. Sleeping meds... not so much.

She gave us a prescription for Vyvanse. Since it was almost 5 p.m. when we got out of the doctor's office, I wanted to wait until Tuesday morning to pick up the medication, but M1 insisted that he wanted to start it right away. Since I hadn't been able to pick up his EpiPen yet, either, we headed over to the pharmacy and got the script filled.

Yesterday morning, M1 took 20 mg of Vyvanse. I won't say it was a miracle worker, but it certainly made the day a lot easier. Instead of having to take 45-minute breaks every 10-15 minutes, he was able to focus. School was over and done by 9:30 a.m. He had a science review project due on Thursday and finished it yesterday. He started work on a project we're doing that doesn't have to be done till next Friday. And I didn't have to yell. He wasn't bouncing off the walls, he was able to focus, and I didn't have to redirect him 1000 times during the day. Now, like I said, some of that had to do with placebo effect because he really wanted to be focused. And even in the science project, the last couple pages were definitely not of the same quality of the first few because of this attention slip. But I didn't have to yell. I didn't have to beg or cajole or spend half my day standing over him to see if we could get the bare basics finished.

Today he's bouncier. He's forgotten about the placebo effect, and while he's definitely calmer and more focused than he was last week (school still got done by 10 a.m.), he's still distractable. This makes more sense at the dose he's at. We'll spend two more days at the 20-mg dose and then double it to 40 mg. Given his size and previous history, the pediatrician suspects that 50 mg will be his therapeutic level. Vyvanse is a controlled substance and so we can't get refills and the doctor can't fax a prescription in, but we don't have to have a visit, either; I just have to call her and let her know what dose I think is going to work best, and she'll make sure the prescription is prepared for us to pick up.

As always, there's a chunk of me saying, "What took ya so long??" It's a guilt thing. When I see how calm he is... when I see how he's able to process SO much more information... when I see how he doesn't flip his lid when I say 'no' to something or catch him doing something he shouldn't be (which will also settle down as his impulse control is curbed)... it all adds up to mean that I think our household will be a much happier, calmer one this summer than it could be otherwise.

Usually it's the little things that get me through the day, but the big things feed the little things. This is a big change, but wow. Just wow. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of the school year with my son!

Saturday, April 16, 2011


They threw me a high-school-themed birthday party tonight! I had invited them over for drinks, but they found a way to take it to a new level. They brought balloons. They brought me a feather boa (it's draped over my ceiling fan so that that cat(s) can't eat it. They brought various other decorations, amazing bread, cheese, crackers, a HUGE cake, posters a la running for class president (complete with copious quantities of glitter), and even a big piece of foam core and markers so they could all sign my "yearbook." I keep looking over at it in amazement and love. I've been on the verge of tears so many times today. I have the best friends... even the ones who aren't local! They really are my BFFs. There is no way I would be here without them. I hope they know how grateful I am. I know they have their own lives and problems, and yet they took the time to do this for me. I am one lucky lady.

LYLAS to all y'all,


Friday, April 15, 2011


The last 24 hours have been the most successful of my entire week.

Success #1: I didn't freak out during the storm! It was tornadic and came fairly close; trees were apparently downed at an elementary school (the one I attended, actually), and there was a significant wall cloud that hung over town for a while. I kept my cool, watched the radar and TV like a hawk, and stepped outside to check actual conditions once or twice. The kids liked watching the intermittent hail and collected some after the storm passed. We had a second round of less severe storms after the kids went to bed, so we've had plenty of rain! I hope it's the end of the drought so that I can plant a garden. Fingers crossed.

Success #2: M1 had a good day of school. He was motivated enough to get done by 11 a.m., which was about two and a half hours earlier than it's been lately. I felt odd sitting on the couch at noon with nothing to teach! Then... oh, glorious then... he took a nap.

Success #3: I steam-cleaned the carpet in the hall and both kids' bedrooms (my bedroom has a wood floor now) with the steam cleaner that was part of my birthday present from Oz and the kids. The dreamy squishiness of freahly-cleaned carpet was soul-soothing. I still need to do the living room. It will happen soon.

Add to these successes the following surprises: Oz had a gift shipped to me so that it would arrive today, and a (HUGE surprise) gift arrived from an out-of-state friend. Today has been great! Some of my friends are coming over in a bit to hang out and chat. It might be cold and cloudy and rainy and windy and just plain dreary outside, but I've got happiness in my heart!

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Weather Cometh

Oz left to go on his annual 'work' cruise today. If you haven't heard me mention this before, it is an incentive-type cruise that his company pays for. Those who have done well throughout the year are shipped out on a three-day funfest to either Mexico or the Bahamas. All-you-can-drink cards are handed out as they board. There's a company meeting on the ride back to help write off the trip. And did I mention spouses are not allowed to attend?

So Oz left to go on his annual 'work' cruise today.

This means that the spring storms that we haven't had yet are arriving this afternoon.

Most folks around here love storms, and I do, too, as long as they're just thunderstorms and not tornado-spawning supercells. I enjoy a good vertical rain with some thunder and lightning for dramatic effect. It's the horizontal rain that gets me. Guess which kind we're forecast to get today?

The worst part is that this fear has become disabling for me. I'd go so far as to say it's a phobia. I didn't sleep well last night because of worry. I saw the tornado watch come into effect and felt my chest clench. I've already started checking out the locations of all the stormchasers to see where they're headed. Sometimes they congregate in a single location, and I feel better. This time they're spread out. I don't like that. After I go get M2 from school, I'll come home and change into jeans. I'll put on socks and have my tennis shoes handy. When the storms start, I'll have the TV on in the background, something I never, ever do, in case they break in and start a severe weather broadcast. Each kid will pack a 'ready bag' if nasty weather looks like it's heading our way. I'll fix a meal that pretty much cooks itself and which we can easily transport, since these things often hit right at dinnertime.

And I'll do it all while trying to remain calm on the outside and not scare the children. I doubt I succeed very well at this. But when I'm almost paralyzed with fear, it's all I can do.

I just checked the radar again, and the first green and orange blips have popped up. It's starting. Someone pass the Ativan and a margarita. It's gonna be a long evening.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

In the Waiting Room

It's that season again. Spring? No. Doctor season. We tend to go in phases with them, and we'd had a dry spell ever since the Great Earberry Escapade of 2010.

We were due.

Last Monday was M2's 6-year well-child check. I mentioned before that she did well, even with the blood draw. Next Monday we have M1's appointment to get his ADHD meds. Every day between now and then is painfully slow. Finally, to complete the trifecta of pediatrician visits, M1 and I had an appointment yesterday. This was primarily for a rash.

Let me tell you about this rash. Rashes don't usually bug me, but this one has been around for a while and had been getting progressively worse. At first I thought it was viral, but it didn't look right, kept coming back and there were no other symptoms, so I ruled that out. Then I pondered a bacterial diagnosis, but that didn't fit, either, since it would go away and reappear on other parts of the body. Finally I assumed it had to be some sort of allergy, but I couldn't figure out for the life of me what he could have been allergic to. When the rash appeared on the Fourth of July after a water balloon fight, I briefly toyed with the idea that it was water-related, especially since the rash had also appeared after several swimming lessons. "Allergic to water??" I wondered. Surely not. But I kept watching. Then winter came, and along with it the snowstorms. We had one particularly frigid day when the temperature barely got above zero, but the kids still wanted to play outside, and I let them. M1 came in covered head to toe in bright red blotches. They went away after several hours, and the thought occurred to me, "What if it's cold?" And I kept watching. The rash kept coming back. Sometimes it would sit for hours in a minor form and then all of a sudden flare up into a major attack. Sometimes it would just come out of nowhere. The last straw for me came a couple weeks ago when he wore a tank top and shorts into a chilly grocery store. By the time we were half done, he looked like the victim from a B-rate horror movie. The clerk gave him an odd look when we were checking out but thankfully had the good sense not to open her mouth. "Cold," I thought again. Oz and I looked it up and found cold urticaria, which is a fancy-shmancy medical way of saying, "You get hives when you get cold."


And then it occurred to me that if cold water is a trigger and M1's asthma has been playing up lately anyway, taking him to a family reunion on a lake in the middle of June probably isn't a good idea. Except that we've already booked the cabin and we want to go.


So I figured I'd take him into the doctor and see what she said. I assumed she'd tell us to see an allergist and maybe up the dose of Zyrtec that he's already on for his dust mite allergy. (The day that I move into a house without carpet will be cause for a massive party.)


She said the following things:
1. It is cold urticaria.
2. Take a daily dose of Pepcid in addition to the Zyrtec.
3. Don't hop in cold pools.
4. Let's do a blood draw for autoimmune disorders.
5. And oh, by the way, I'm sending in a prescription for an EpiPen, just in case.

Blood draw. Autoimmune disorder. EpiPen. Heavy stuff. M1 flipped out for a little bit until I explained things, and then he settled down and challenged himself to do the blood draw better than his sister. He did about the same. Or at least that's what I'm telling both of them.

And so now we wait for the results from all the blood tests. They could change our treatment plans. They could tell us everything is fine. I'm not worried about them, merely curious to see what they say.

Either way, I'm sure we'll be back. It's doctor season.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Hello, Monday

Everyone take some deeeeeep cleansing breaths...

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

Repeat as necessary throughout the day (or week, or month) to maintain sanity.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Life Lessons

Some random things I have learned in the last 8.5 years of being a parent/adult.

1. There is nothing in this world that can prepare you for being a parent until you are one. Baby-sitting might help. It certainly can't hurt.

1a. One of the scariest things in life is making life-altering decisions for your kids. Making a decision that will permanently affect the life of another person is petrifying, especially when that person doesn't have the knowledge to give an educated opinion on the subject.

1b. The absolute scariest thought in life is the idea of losing your kids.

2. My senses have been dulled by years of overuse. I completely understand why many senior citizens have hearing problems, vision problems, and drop things on a regular basis. Their bodies have literally been worn to shreds.

2a. The human olfactory system is amazingly resiliant. It can survive such things as baby diaper blowouts, foot funk, and teenage BO in mass quantities. Not to mention failed kitchen/science experiments and that 'something' that inevitably dies in the wall of your house.

2b. The human digestive system is much more subjective than the human nose. It will revolt at the worst possible time, usually 10 seconds before you can make it to any tiled/wooden/non-carpeted surface. This may not be a parental thing, though. I'm sure many a college maintenance staff member can attest to this.

2c. The human sensory system is heightened at the onset of parenthood. You will never sleep again because you will wake at the slightest sound. You will also be able to detect the presence of a dead-silent child standing a foot away staring at you.

3. Every child is a genius. Their creativity knows no bounds and, if challenged, they will prove this theory in every way unimaginable.

3a. If in doubt, gather a room full of parents and watch the one-upmanship fly. Moms are typically better at this than fathers, unless physical prowess is being discussed. Then dads hold their own.

3b. Art supplies are dangerous in the hands of geniuses. Clerical supplies are even worse.

4. Games were never, ever meant to be played according to the rules. They are meant to be dissected and used for any purpose other than playing by the rules. Dominoes, checkers, marbles, and Monopoly are prime examples.

4a. Rule #4 is null and void if one child actually wants to play the game for the purpose of defeating a sibling repeatedly. Then the rules are scrupulously followed.

4b. Rule #4a is null and void if the child scrupulously following the rules loses the game anyway. Then everyone should duck and cover.

5. People who refer to their pets as children irk me. Unless you would actually take a bullet for your animal, please refrain. You love them. They are a large part of your life, and you would have to go through a true grieving process if they passed. I understand that, and I don't deny your right to care for your animal as well as you like. But it is not a child. Thank you.

6. Watching TV shows and movies that you would have made fun of before having children is a rite of passage. 'Teletubbies' was my downfall. One of M1's first words was 'noo-noo,' referring to a blue vacuum-cleaner-like creature on that show. Since he was a late talker, this was a big deal.

6a. If you have reached this stage of parenthood, you probably know what it's like to be the only one in a room who knows who Moose A. Moose is and why someone who doesn't like candy corn reminds you of a song.

6b. If you feel that holding an intelligent discussion about any kids' TV show counts as a successful conversation... you might be a parent. Or a TV exec. But more likely a parent.

7. Once you become a parent, your social contact list shrinks. It's a sad, sad fact. When your life revolves around naptimes and developmental milestones, it's harder to go out and mingle with those whose lives still revolve around sleeping till noon and career milestones. It can be done and has been done but usually not well and/or not for long.

7a. The parents at any given social event will find each other by 10 p.m. because for many of them, this is now past bedtime. We also usually have the faint aura of 'praying the baby-sitter doesn't call' about them. I think we can detect that. It's part of that heightened sensory system.

7b. Making new friends as parents is even harder than making friends in a new elementary school. It's a delicate dance. Finding perfect friends is better than Christmas.

8. Your home before kids can contain things like unprotected movies, unlocked desk drawers, and live floral arrangements. Your home after kids is more secure than Alcatraz.

8a. Your home before kids contains things like clean carpets, organized bookshelves, and only a load or two of laundry per week. Your home after kids contains carpets you don't even want the kids crawling on, bookshelves that turn into hidey-holes when the kids dump all the books out, walk over them and climb in, and loads of laundry that breed before your very eyes.

8b. Your fridge before kids contains things like half a gallon of milk, some wine, and various things to make quick, easy OR amazing, elaborate meals. Your fridge after kids contains two gallons of milk, leftovers from the bulk cooking you did the weekend before, and the wine bottle is emptied each night.

9. Your heart will be full of more love than you ever imagined possible. Even when you lose it at the little brat who TP'd your entire house AND drew on the flat-screen TV with dry-erase marker. And I suppose that is the true measure of being a parent.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

The "other" pets

The cats tend to get the most press around here, probably because they live in the house and there are more of them than anything else except the chickens, and I tend to think of the chickens as a single collective being/hive mind rather than individual entities. Cats are definitely individual entities. I wouldn't even consider the possibility of thinking otherwise.

After all, they know where I sleep.

However, there are other animals here. Particularly talented beasts, they are.

This one can apparently lick the inside of his own nose. I really could have gone my entire life without knowing that. I know where that tongue goes, and I know that it also likes to lick people. *shudder*

Then there are the aforementioned poultry.

M1 has this one trained to jump up and take food from his hand. He's very proud that he's trained a chicken. I haven't the heart to tell him that chickens will do just about anything for food.

Kinda like this guy. He also will do anything for food.

He doesn't usually get what he wants, though, because he's still a big doggie...

... though I must admit it's a far cry from this photo taken almost a year ago.

Now he can sleep on his back and actually breathe while doing it!

My animals. Spoiled rotten, every one of 'em. But don't tell the cats that. They think they own the place.

Monday, April 4, 2011


Thank you to everyone for the words of help and support that you sent after I posted about putting M1 back on medication. They were very kind. I particularly liked the comparison to a child with insulin issues. That one struck me as having a lot of truthiness.

I can't believe I just typed that.


We went to see the pediatrician today for M2's 6-year-old well-child visit. She had to have blood drawn for a couple of tests (cholesterol, thyroid, CBC), and she didn't even scream once! Have I mentioned I love our ped and her staff?? I love them. The phlebotomist is also the x-ray tech, so the children know and love and trust her, and the nurse has been there for several years now, too, so between me and those two ladies keeping the girl occupado, M2 didn't even know she'd been stuck till there was blood in the vials. It actually surprised her when she looked down and saw. She started to get all freaked out until the nurse asked if it was hurting and she thought about it.


And by then, they were done.


The rest of the visit went equally well. M2 is humongous. She's healthy. The doctor and I agree on plans of attack for various issues, should they arise. And theoretically we don't have to go back till she's 8! I love our doc, but hey, co-pays eat ya alive.


Initially I was annoyed that I hadn't been smart enough to plan ahead and get a babysitter for M1 while we went to the doctor visit, but in the end, I think I'm glad he came. The doctor definitely got to see him at his 'best.' OK, mostly that means he went a little bit bonkers. We happened to be placed in a room right behind the doctor's desk, and so he kept trying to jump out and scare her if I had stepped out for some reason, like to take M2 to use the restroom or accompany her to the blood draw. He kept trying to answer questions that had been directed at M2. He kept trying to mouth EVERYTHING. I swear he's currently worse than a toddler about that one. Seriously. He put a plastic car and a library book in his mouth in the span of five minutes. At one point, I asked him to step out of the room so that M2 could change back into her regular clothes, and when I opened the door to let him back in, I discovered he'd escaped... all the way to the discharge area at the far end of the building.

It's a small building, and I found him easily, chatting cheerily away to the reception staff, but still. Gak.

In the end, when we go back for that med appointment on the 18th, I don't think I'll have any problems proving my point, if I haven't done that already.


Finally, and on a completely unrelated note, Tractor Supply Co. has baby rabbits.

*collective awwwwww*

G'night, y'all!

Friday, April 1, 2011


I have reached a conclusion.

M1 is going back on ADHD meds as soon as we can get in to our ped's office and get the script.

On Wednesday, we had a 'regular' day of school planned. Most days this means we're done by about 10:30 a.m., 11 at the latest if we chase down random topics and take a few breaks between subjects. On Wednesday, school took till 1 p.m. and even then it was only because I poked and prodded him through the last hour. He's currently throwing an actual kicking, screaming, pounding-the-floor, crying, raging fit about SCIENCE, of all things (his very favorite subject and one he's been looking forward to all day) because I'm "being stubborn."

Yes, son, you still have to write down the results of the experiment. I'm not being unreasonable. Your tantrum, however, IS.

His swim teacher has been telling me for a month or so that he's stopped progressing due to a complete and utter lack of focus. His sleep pattern is better now that he's back on the melatonin, but for a while, he was staying up till 10:30 or later, waking in the middle of the night to mess with M2 or roam the house, then wanting to sleep all day. Proper sleep hasn't helped, though.

He's been off of medication since we brought him home from private school nearly two years ago. I've considered restarting it several times since then but have always talked myself out of it, telling myself that I could make changes in the way I deal with him to work on the issues at hand. It's come to the point now, though, where I *KNOW* I'm doing all I can do and it's far from being enough. His impulse control, focus, and problem-solving skills simply are not there. Caffeine helps, but it's only a short-term stimulant, and neither it nor I can last all day. We both wear out after a while.

I hate the idea of putting him back on medication - I really do. But I also want him to be able to function, and right now, he can't.

Being a mom means doing the stuff we don't want to do for the greater good... right?