Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Mother Nature and The Internet

Dear Mother Nature,

I know that times have been tough for you the last few years, what with the hole in your ozone, and this "global warming" thing that Al Gore keeps complaining about, but I think that I finally have figured out what really has been bugging you.

You are going through menopause.

I know, I know, not something nice to say to a woman, but I am a woman and I understand these things. I have seen the signs, first the hot flashes that last for weeks at a time in the middle of winter, then the sudden cold fronts of sleet and snow that come in the spring, then more hot flashes. It is enough to make a girl crazy, I know, us girls get it. It has been a hard change for you to go through, and to have to do it all alone, and with that pesky Al Gore all up in your face all the time. It would be enough for me to call up someone and take him down with a lightening bolt or something - if I was that kind of vengeful girl.

I just want you to know that we are here for you, all of us ladies, and we understand. Sometimes soy works wonders to help with the hot flashes and make things more tolerable, and I also have central air, so if you get too hot, just come knock on the door and sit a spell until it all passes. I have plenty of coffee and iced tea if you need some.

Love, Mrs. Tantrum

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Dear Internet,

I know you were invented by Al Gore. I know that has to suck more than anything that has ever sucked before. I mean he hates Mommy Bloggers, and cars and water bottles, and fish and well he hates everything except for himself. I am sorry that he is so mean to you.

What I don't get is why you have been acting up lately. First you take out my beloved Twitter, and then all of the Blogger's start talking about how they are having troubles with their servers and such...it makes a girl a little leery. I thought maybe it was just my machine, that it had caught a virus or a cold...something like that. I checked though and it is fine.

I realized that you must be the one who is having trouble, I also realized that you are always having trouble about the same time every month. Did you get your period? Did you not tell your daddy Al because you were afraid he wouldn't let you have some vicodin and tampons? You can tell me. I will make sure you have whatever your little heart desires, just so long as you promise to stop holding all of my technology hostage. You can even have a can of Aqua Net if you want. I bet I can still find some on EBay with CFC'S in it if you like.

So sweetie, whatever it is you can tell Momma. I will get it for you, and then you can stop all of this nonsense of slowing down and being crabby. Definitely some chocolate will help you out with that. I will get you the Bacon kind...it is the best for these kind of things.

Love, Momma

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

I'm All Mediocre

I think that most of you have noticed my newest "badge" the one with the gnome...the one that says mediocre on it. It is cool. Cooler than All Top, and I think it is a hell of a lot cuter than those weird All Top ones to be perfectly honest.


It all started this morning when Jenny (aka The Bloggess) Twittered me about the new "All Mediocre" website that had started. I was curious so I read up on it. Definitely up my alley.


Okay, for those of you who do not blog and aren't up on all this lingo like jive, All Top is like the list of all of the "cool kids." It was started by Guy Kawasaki, and has everything from Mommy Blogs (shut the hell up Kathy Lee) to military info websites. It is indeed awesome. I would give my left boob to be on All Top, well I would have given my left boob to be on there, until this morning.


I knew once I read the first few lines of All Mediocre that it was for me. I wasn't the pretty enough, cool enough, or big enough blog for that weird Guy Kawasaki. Who cares? I have awesome readers (up to 200 a day thank you) and I get comments. (Apparently comments are what matters with that Guy, not CONTENT, which if you are a blogger is what should matter.) For whatever reason though I only get like 2-10 comments. I am cool with that I love all my comments. I don't do this to be cool, I do it because I love it.


I also joined the All Mediocre team because it kind of says "Hey you, big Internet geek, we are cool enough, and we'll show you." Which is way cooler than you know getting on his list.


Yes, I am sure his list would generate me more traffic. I am also sure that could mean other doors would open, but I am not sure that is what I want.

I am also quite certain that he is rather impressed with himself, and not so much with me. (Other than my witty Twitter banter on parasites and other useless crap.) Which is cool, because I still might have a crush on him...even if I am All Mediocre.

Technology Sucks

Today I got a wireless keyboard and mouse. I am so excited I peed a little in my panties. (Yes, they are finally on the right way!) I am all ready to re-do the blog...a little update of sorts before the BIG MAKEOVER that is coming up in a few months...add some badges, etc. Then the Internet implodes. Twitter dies, Blogger explodes and I am sure that it is all Al Gore's fault. After all he HATES Mommy Bloggers, and he invented the Internet. It has to be his fault.

The good news is that Bacon slept in his own bed ALL NIGHT LAST NIGHT!! Thanks Brittany for your tips, and everyone else as well. We are trying them all out, and as soon as I have picked a winner prizes will be distributed in an orderly fashion.

The weather also cooled off and we had a good old fashioned rain storm, which is of great benefit to me, because being allergic to everything under the sun the rain calms down the pollen for a while. I am going to take Martha Stewart's advice and look into allergy shots. With a 90% success rate, I really cannot think that there is another option. Downing Benadryl and Zyrtec every day is not a fun thing. A few shots are easy. Hell, I put up with it forever just to get pregnant with Bacon.

I am exhausted despite being able to sleep without anyone manhandling me last night. Hubs is back to calling for the Yeti, and even with my custom earplugs I was unable to sleep through the hubbub. It is okay though, I am not dead, and I can make it through a little longer without sleep. Right?

I hope you are all good, and keep up the good thoughts that Bacon keeps sleeping in HIS OWN DANG BED. Also pray that Blogger is fixed soon...and that Twitter is also fixed, because I am itching BIG TIME, this is not an addiction you want if you can avoid it people. I promise. More funny soon, once I get some sleep.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Brutally Honest Monday - HELP

Today is Brutally Honest Monday over at Mrs. Flinger's place, and I am so in need of some help that it isn't funny. If I can't count on y'all for being Brutally Honest, who can I count on?

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First up, Bacon will NOT SLEEP IN HIS OWN BED. For the first three years he did GREAT, it was annoying that he woke up 75 times a night, but still he slept alone in his own bed. Then last August when we returned home from business meetings he refused to sleep alone. We were so jet lagged and sick with the Dengue Fever that we had no choice but to give in to his demands to get some sleep.

I know that was the wrong choice, but I was puking and crapping all over the place, there weren't many decisions that I could make that didn't include "How can I get him to shut up so I can sleep?"

Here we are almost a year later and every night I sleep about 3 hours before his toe, head, leg or arm are all up in my space. I cannot stand to be touched when sleeping. I never ever have, so this is MORE than irritating. Also being pushed to sleep on the edge of the bed by a 4 year old, uncomfortable.

How do I get him to sleep in his own bed again? It is a LOVELY blue Thomas The Tank Engine Toddler bed, that any other boy of 4 would give his left arm and leg to sleep in. We have begged bribed and pleaded, nothing works...we have to do something, before I wind up in the Coo Coo Farm.

Second up Why the hell with the "crappy" work environment can we not find anyone who wants to work at the shop? Seriously, I am down a cashier, parts guys, salesmen, a receptionist and more that I am SURE I am leaving out.

It is so bad that I think I may have to start working on Hubby's days off just to cover the phone calls that are getting missed. (Which really wouldn't be that bad, I mean I cannot take watching Star Wars again...)

Where are all of these so called "unemployed" people? Since WA state has one of the HIGHEST unemployment rates in the country, you would think that this whole gig would be easier. Right. I just had a cashier walk off the job for no apparent reason. WTF? What adult does that? I mean at least call and give us and yell "Fuck Off" or something.

There you have it, my annoyances for Brutally Honest Monday. If you can help me solve either of these problems there will be a good prize in it for you...I promise. But if you send me some crappy advice I will send you a really crappy prize...you know, crap begets crap.

Maybe that's the problem at the store....

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Another Case of TMI: The Crack In My Butt Crack

I have an unexplainable crack in the top of my butt crack. It hurts like hell and of course, it is bleeding and oozing into my inside out underpants.

How did this happen you ask?

I have no fucking clue.

Honestly, I woke up yesterday and my butt crack burned. I attempted various yoga like poses to get a peek in the GIANT bathroom mirror with no luck, so I waited for Hubby to get home. When he did, he used his handy flashlight to look, and then help me look. It was indeed like someone had taken a piece of construction paper and ran it as deeply down my crack as they could have.

I panicked. I mean, how the hell do you get a cut like that in your crack? It's not like Hubby and I have much sex, with Bacon still sleeping between us it kind of puts a damper on the Amour that most couples are able to enjoy. It isn't like I work out, or do freaky acrobatic stunts. The most exercise I have been getting these days is running to the bathroom to crap my brains out from the antibiotics for my tooth.

Of course I made the mistake of looking up my symptoms on the horrible WebMd. (This site should be banned to everyone in the free world. Even people who don't suffer from hypochondria, because looking up a stuffed nose could give you something like a brain hemorrhage.) So I started looking, Herpes, anal fissures, torn hemorrhoids, Herpes. Holy Hell, I have herpes.

I started freaking out. I just knew it was from the one time I peed while sitting on the paper toilet seat cover at Target right after the cleaning lady came out. (I am a hoverer not a sitter, but I just couldn't hover this day.) I was certain I was going to DIE.

Then I remembered how my mom said to NEVER LOOK AT WEBMD. So I used Google to look up crack in my butt crack. Guess what? I DON'T HAVE HERPES!! You can get a crack in your butt crack from it being too wet for a long time. And on Thursday it was like 100 degrees and I spent the day sitting in a TRUCK in jeans....with a sweaty butt crack. Which is the reason I have a crack in my butt crack.

So, next time there is something wrong with you or someone you love, Google it. Don't use WebMd, it will scare the ever living shit out of you. Seriously every damn time. You could have a sliver, enter your symptoms and it would come back with fungal mad cow disease. Just don't do it.

Also in these hot spring and summer months, while you are powdering baby's bottom don't forget yours lest you too suffer from the painful crack in the butt crack.

Sunday Stew

Usually today would be a round up of all the great stuff I have read this week all over Blogoslovakia, but since it has been above 90 degrees here for more then 3 days in a row, and there was that day I almost died from a toothache, I didn't get around to reading a lot of funny this week. (Although I KNOW you are out there.) Also when it is HOT OUTSIDE you don't eat stew, you maybe eat salad and some wine.

Yesterday was the earliest day over 90 on record in the Seattle area. It was AWESOME. (Well the weather was anyway.) Bacon had his BFF over for a few hours and that was totally and absolutely not AWESOME. It was HORRIFIC. I was trying to be optimistic about it, TRYING to make it through because The Mom Next Door takes Bacon for hours on end all the time while these two hooligans play endlessly. She has assured me that Bacon is great to have over blah-blah-blah-blah-blah, but after what I saw yesterday I don't know.

BFF is 6 months older than Bacon, but they are great together. We had the pool set up on the deck so the boys came over to swim and play out back. Bacon is great at keeping himself entertained, so I thought with TWO of them here it would be low maintenance, and I could get some shit done around here. HOLY SHIT BALLS was I wrong.

Now if BFF was an only I would understand the 7 million "I'm bored" statements. I would also have understood his demands to go upstairs repeatedly after I told them that we were only playing downstairs if he was like deaf or something, but he isn't.

He is a rude little pain in the ass.

He got mad when I said that we had no fruit snacks (I don't buy them because Bacon doesn't eat them) and told me that I needed to go to the store and buy some, I gave them some juice and chips and they played. After 4 minutes he again was "bored" and wanted to "go upstairs" I was ready to kill myself.

Three hours later when I had turned off the TV for the last time and they had finally finished his 2 minute stint in the pool he screamed that it was boring here and he wanted to go home. So I took him home.

Here is the problem, I didn't say anything to his dad because I know he would have gotten spanked and in BIG trouble for acting like that. Also usually he doesn't come over unless Hubs is home so Hubs deals with it, but after talking to Hubs, he was like this the last time he visited. Do we not have him come over anymore? Do I talk to his mom when she comes back from her business trip next weekend? Or do I just let it be and hope to all hopes that my house is so ultimately boring that he will NEVER want to come back?

I am also terrified that Bacon is acting like this over there and they are afraid to tell me. We are friends, but not CLOSE friends. Do you know what I mean? I would be MORTIFIED if Bacon behaved that way. (Although I am pretty certain that he doesn't, because he has stayed with enough friends and been on enough play dates that someone would have said "hey your kid is an ass.")

That is my dilemma, BFF is an ass and what do I do?

It is giving me a stomach ache, because I don't like confrontation when it isn't warranted. I also don't like telling people that their kid is a jerk. I mean it just isn't nice. Was the heat making him cranky? Who knows.

We did have an awesome get together with the Other Mom and Dad last night, dinner and toys and many shared awesome Autism stories. ("Twinkle Twinkle Little.....Poop" had to be my favorite.)

Other than the melt down over the trains - yep that was MY KID - which kind of turned out to be partly because he had to take a GINORMOUS dump, it was fun times for all. (Oh wait, they were freaked out about the rock throwing that their son was doing...but I guess we all need to be embarrassed about something our kids do at get together's.)

It is nice to have someone else with a kid the same age who understands what is going on. Someone who you can laugh with over obsessive behaviors, weird ramblings and poop references. Plus if the kids get naked no one freaks out.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Heat Wave

Hey everyone, I am not dead. I am just exhausted from Thursday's marathon trip to Oregon and back. (Yes, that is 6 hours in the truck for those of you who have not made that lovely adventure before.) We were in Oregon for a total of 6 hours, which was nice because we saw my family, but seriously a 12 hour day with HALF of that confined in an F350 is like pure hell. Also I now am suffering from ass paralysis. It is incurable.


My tooth is better, still achy but not the whole "I am going to die" kind of pain I was experiencing earlier this week. Hopefully it will be not hurting at all come Monday and when they put the permanent filling in we will be done with this all and then the crown will be put on without any major problems. Although, I am not exactly hopeful on that front.

The GREATEST news of all is that the weather here in the Seattle area is SUNNY and WARM. Yeah, like over 80 degrees warm. We are all freaking out and peeing our panties, and all of the men in the neighborhood are mowing their lawns with no shirts and sandals and socks. It is like summer has come early. AND I COULDN'T BE HAPPIER ABOUT IT. I got to sit outside last night and drink a margarita and watch Hubby wash my car.

The grass is coming in nicely although we still can't play on it because all of the poo isn't gone. Maybe another week and then it will be business as usual. And the dogs can go back to crapping on the patio then, which is FANFREAKINGTASTIC.

Today we are going to barbecue something, although Hubby will be in charge of the operation of it all. I don't want to experience anything like this again, and he still hasn't fixed the ignitor. Until he does...well let's just say I am having nothing to do with that shiny metal outdoor oven.

I am off now. I have HOURS of Sponge Bob to watch, woo-freaking-hoo, and some other not very fun stuff to do. Hopefully something exciting and monumentally hysterically will happen to share with you all....of course I am going to get a CrackBerry, so that will make it much easier to share EVERYTHING with you the moment it happens.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Tooth Update

This will be quick because it is midnight and I am freaking exhausted.

First off that root canal that I had done a couple of weeks ago cause a reaction to the temporary filling material immediately so they removed it gave me Penicillin, pain medication and sent me home. It got better but it still sort of was painful and yucky.

I went back on Tuesday of this week to have it checked, and his assistant, who is a sweet lady, removed the "debris" and irrigated my mouth. While irrigating my mouth she nearly killed me with the solution that I think is bleach and arsenic. She said that everything looked okay and put in another temporary filling and sent me home with more pain medication.

By Wednesday morning I wasn't feeling any better. In fact the pain was so bad I actually passed out a couple of different times during the day. I seriously thought I was being a big wiener and it was supposed to hurt so I worked through the pain with Advil and Percocet alternately. (Also hot and cold and rubbing ground cloves directly on my gums.) Nothing worked.

Describe this pain they always ask, so I said, "Seriously this pain was worse than giving birth naturally to our daughter Abagail(who was stillborn). During her delivery I screamed twice that I was done with this shit, and it was time to go. (Never mind that her head and shoulder were halfway out at that point.) "

By the time I went to bed last night I was saying EVERY SINGLE Catholic prayer I had been taught as a kid, as well as bargaining with him to JUST PLEASE MAKE IT STOP, and I will quit blogging about poop. (Or something like that.)

When I went in this morning and he removed the temporary it GUSHED out fluid further, faster and with more force than Old Faithful. Indeed there was still an infection and it was getting "Dangerously Out of Control."

He ground down that tooth as because of the infection/pain and swelling it has been pushed down from the bone and is rubbing on the bottom molars. (Known as an occlusion, which I did not know could happen.) I left with stronger pain medication, stronger antibiotics and a bottle of his favorite Merlot. (The Merlot was an apology. And I was told that was for AFTER all of the work is finished up.)

If all goes well, I go back bright and early next Thursday to get the permanent filling put in, and then it is off to get fitted for a crown and all of that excitement. I just want to be done and the pain to be gone. I want life to again be all sunshine and rainbows and lots and lots of coffee beans.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

If Preschool Is This Bad, I'm Screwed

I may have mentioned before that Bacon is in special education preschool through our school district because he has Asperger's, which is a form of Autism. This is a great thing, because not a lot of places offer this.

I am also pleased with the progress that he has made in the 4 months since he started school there.

I am not pleased with the teacher however. She is hard to read, and seriously more bumpy mood wise than the Hana highway on the island of Maui. I thought that maybe it was me, you know I tend to think that everyone hates me, and other psychotic type things. I also thought that she was overworked and that is why she was having a hard time managing Bacon.

Once we figured out that he needed melatonin to sleep however, his behavior improved, and things seemed to go more smoothly on that front. There were a few bumps as the class grew in size from 6 to 8 to 12 to 14....but he adjusted gradually. (There will be 4 more before the end of the year. 2 of these "friends" joined the class today.)

Then there was the whole peanut butter sandwich incident, and that started the slippery slope into red flag DANGER WILL ROBINSON territory.

I ran into a friend of mine who has kids that are older than Bacon. When I explained about the newsletters, and other stuff she said that I should call the principal. (She is on the PTA and knows everyone so she told me WHO to call.)

So I did, and the principal was great. She addressed the concerns that I had that we had been told that Bacon was able to write his name unassisted back at conferences in March, but now when I had him do it for some cards and artwork it came out resembling something out of an Egyptian tomb. She said that she would look into it and could I please pass on those newsletters.

Late today I got a call from her, explaining that she spoken with the teacher and that the name thing was a miscommunication. He had been assisted and is just now able to make the letter B all on his own.

Now I sat in that conference with my husband. We both listened intently to what she had to say, and would have been thrilled with, "he likes to use the glue stick." Seriously, we went in there with NO EXPECTATIONS. If she had said he had written that hand over hand, I would have remembered, and so would have Hubby.

So now we are stupid liars who make a big deal out of nothing. Also that newsletter with the horrible spelling and the whole "SOMETHING WILL DIE" thing on it, was "meant to be funny" um, not funny. Especially when DIE was the highlighted word on the page. Also there is a thing on EVERY COMPUTER called spell check, last time I used it it gives you about 10 options for the word you have spelled wrong. Unless you are a COMPLETE and UTTER MORON, you can figure out the right one.

Then came home a letter wanting us to allow the school district permission to see if Bacon is eligible for Medicaid. First of all, if he is I am the one who should be doing the checking not the school. Secondly, they are REQUIRED BY LAW to provide him with these services (speech, occupational, physical etc therapies) if needed for free. They cannot collect Medicaid money for doing so, because they are not medical providers. Plus if they do this it could for some families screw up their medical insurance. (Fortunately we are not one of them but still.)

Also the newest addition to the class who has been there about 3 weeks has been hitting biting kicking and scratching Bacon daily. Does she get time outs for this? Does she loose her snack? No, of course not. Because she cannot speak, she can only grunt. Talk about placing a kid in the wrong class...she certainly seems to be in the wrong one, and why is it okay for her to bully Bacon, but if he doesn't come in from recess exactly at the minute they say get inside, he looses his snack?

I am left today wondering if this is indeed the best environment for my son with Asperger's. He needs a teacher who is caring and understanding that kids "on the spectrum" take more time to understand things. That they need things worded differently, that they need more than 2 seconds to transition from one activity to the next and that a room full of 18 kids is just too many for them to handle. Also that screaming at them does not help, and time outs do not work.

Honestly though, the thought of moving him to the smaller class doesn't seem fair either, those kids need MUCH more one on one time, because they have greater needs. Is it just this teacher that it is going to be like this with? I mean we are done on the 13th of June, which isn't that much longer.

The thought of private school also scares the crap out of me, because that means kissing my retirement savings goodbye, and going back to work full time.

I feel helpless now. I especially feel like the principal now views me as "that mom" that is going to complain about everything. (She even had the nerve to blame the newsletter spelling errors on the teacher working extra hours. She is a half time employee, so working a little over time into a full 8 hour day makes someone incapable of spelling or using spell check?)

I just don't know what to think, are they just going to cover their asses and push him through, or are they really going to try to help him succeed like they promised when we all met at the beginning of this journey, and mapped out his individual education plan?

And why is it that the only advocate that I have for him is me?

Things That Pop-Pop Taught Him

We were sitting last night trying to get Bacon to go to sleep. This is usually a long process because he NEVER gets tired, and we have to give him juice spiked with liquid melatonin just to get him to sleep. Last night was really bad because 1) he had been home from school because of "diarrhea" and 2) Hubby had given him a 20 oz Cherry Coke at 10 am and it was in his body all day.

A bath didn't work. Dirty Jobs didn't work. (Hell, Mike Rowe was making turkeys fart or burp or SOMETHING that was really exciting for boys...who could go to sleep.) The train DVD didn't work. We were exhausted and out of ideas.

Secretly, we started sending him telepathic messages of "Just go the FUCK to sleep already you crazy little monkey!" but, he apparently did not inherit Hubby or my telepathy. Crap, or maybe not crap because now that means when he learns to spell we can use our secret telepathy to communicate. SWEET!!

I started asking him about why he was drinking his juice out of the box without a straw.

"It's like drinking a beer Mom." He said as if I was the stupidest woman on the planet.

"Who taught you how to drink beer?" We asked. (Yeah, I drink, but not beer...and I am not going to show my 4 year old how to do it. At least without a beer bong.)

"My Pop-Pop."

"What else has Pop-Pop taught you?" Hubby asked.

"How to smoke cigarettes, drive tractors, ride a train, eat pepperonis and drink beers."

I am stuffing my face in the pillow at this point trying not to laugh hysterically out loud. I mean NONE of this should be funny, but the way he was saying it...like they hang out at Pop-Pop's house driving around on the tractor drinking beers and smoking all day was a little more than I could handle.

Finally he fell asleep, and probably dreamt of drinking beers and smoking with his Pop-Pop.

OMG, you are screaming. How can you let him stay with that man?

The truth is my FIL would absolutely DIE if he knew that BACON had said that he learned how to smoke or drink beers from him. I am pretty sure that the man who has smoked and drank for the better part of his 57 years would up and quit cold turkey over that fact alone. I know that he loves Bacon more than anything in the world and would do anything to protect him.

My FIL and I aren't best friends, because we are very much alike and play by the whole "it's my way or else" game, but he is the reason that I get to stay home with Bacon. He is the reason that I flounce around the country to different events with Yamaha, and the reason that I have such a great husband.

So yes, Bacon thinks that he is drinking his apple juice "like a beer" and he did for a while pretend to smoke Lego's like cigarettes, but DUDE, we actually played with candy cigarettes, and my grandma showed us how to do it the "right" way. Which one is worse?