Oh, sure, it looks like a harmless piece of blue paper from the school, but it’s a unicorn. The room is full of rainbows, glitter litters the floor, the delicious aroma of fresh-baked cookies permeates the air, and soft music soothes the senses. I have a unicorn. I think I will name him Wee Schnookums Weeblie the Magnificent.

A was accepted into the Gifted and Talented program for reading.

Awww…Wee Schnookums Weeblie the Magnificent just nuzzled me, gave me a backrub, and brought me a cup of hot chai! How nice of Wee Schnookums Weeblie the Magnificent! I woooove him!

I knew Wee Schnookums Weeblie the Magnificent existed, but it’s difficult to explain him when you’re constantly told of your child’s difficulties, of his failures. You know the unicorn is out there, but you get the impression that it’s tied to achievement and not ability, and that’s just wrong.

But Wee Schnookums Weeblie the Magnificent is here and like Snuffleupagus finally being “seen” and acknowledged (HAPPY BIRTHDAY SESAME STREET!), he can’t be ignored.

Welcome, Wee Schnookums Weeblie the Magnificent. I knew you existed, and thanks for the cup of chai.

Today’s plan of getting up and exercising has been scrapped, despite the fact that my fat slightly larger jeans are getting tight. I even got up and got the shoes on. Ain’t happenin’. A shower may be the extent of standing for me this morning if this doesn’t stop. I don’t feel sick, just “off” and dizzy. Practicing today for the recital I’m playing in next month? Unlikely.

Eh, the humor has spun right on outta me. Shower, comfy clothes, and then I’ll reevaluate the rest of the day. Bleh.

Who needs a windowshade Christmas tree? Anyone, anyone??? I am heartbroken that I can’t get a picture here, for it truly must be seen to be believed. A tree. With lights. That stores flat and you pull up on the top and wheeee!!!! A Christmas tree! Just like gramma and grampa used to go out and cut down with their saws. The best part? It’s a Thomas Kincade tree! It just gets better and better…

Does your poor widdle puppy wuppy get cold in the winter? Keep Snookums warm and cozy this season with a Parka/Scarf set! (Agh, couldn’t get the whole picture here, just a snippet). Just don’t piss off that dog, he looks like he could chew your face off if you teased him about his stylin’ outerwear. You’d think he’d have a matching pair of booties, with all that snow, but I guess he’s too macho for that.

Who here spends a lot of time in the car? In and out and in and out (out of the gutter, dudes) and in and out. You could get butt sores from the effort! You need…a 360 degree swivel cushion!!! It swivels! And it’s a memory foam cushion! The fact that anyone who might want one is likely too heavy for it to swivel is just glossed over.

And, finally, what would Creepy As Hell Stuff be without a freaky miniature baby doll? It’s so tiny! It’s so realistic! It fits in your hand! Awww….it’s so creepy and it’s in my Sunday coupons next to the butter!

Ooh, risotto!

You get a NaBloPoMo filler post that you begin at 8 pm. With a story.

Gin and tonics are summer drinks. Period. We keep the gin in the freezer in the summer, limes in the crisper, and tonic water in the pantry from May to October…essentially planting to harvest. It’s also our backup “oh Sweet Baby Jesus you gotta be kidding me” beverage of choice when it comes to what the boys are doing at any particular time.

A working on Legos at the kitchen table, J watching a video in the family room ten feet away.

A: “J!! Turn it down, I can’t concentrate!!!!”

J: “What????”

Me: “J, turn it down. A, get your headphones, you won’t hear anything.” He gets them, puts them on, can’t hear anything.

A: whistle, whistle, whistle…

J: “A!!!!! Shut up, I can’t hear the video!!!”

No, doesn’t translate well to print, but at that point Tom and I curled up in the corner and whimpered. And then I made “wave the tonic over the glass” gin and tonics. In November.

(Hey, what did you want? I did say this was a filler post!)

Ah, nuttin like a little Dear Friday Fragments to clear the mind, air out the rooms, prepare for the weekend.

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Dear Cub Scout Den Leader,

Your communication skills are, how do you say? Craptastic. They resemble my sucky vacuum that doesn’t. On your very first list of Important Dates, there was a Pack meeting last night. Apparently I didn’t get the memo of the change and my scout and hubby hauled ass to get to an empty school. Perhaps you could work on this? I’d bring it up in person, but I just can’t take on the den right now, nor have any desire to do so. Just get your poop in a group and do your job. OH! And perhaps recognizing the scouts at Pack meetings instead of just handing them their awards at the curb would be nice too.

Searching for an appropriate calendar,

A Scout’s Mom

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Dear Body,

You and me, we gotta work on our communication. I do not appreciate this 20% over my driver’s license weight. You do not appreciate yesterday’s yoga class. Suck it up, Buttercup, mama’s sick of feeling fat.

Apparently muffin tops aren’t just for breakfast anymore,

Porky

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Dear Wee Widdle Brudder,

I know you’re not so little anymore. You turned 33 this week, you’re married, you’re in the military, and you top me by a good four inches. But I’m gonna whallop you if I don’t hear from you soon. Did you get the first box I sent umpteen weeks ago? Will you let me know when you get the one I sent this week? Did you get the video email the boys sent for your birthday? Could I please have gift ideas for your stunning wife? Could you please answer the several emails I’ve sent? I can’t call you, for I don’t have your number in Germany. Hard to reach me, since you use a calling card and it comes up on the Caller ID as “unknown” and I don’t answer those. I know you’re on the computer all day doing whatever the hell it is you do, but dude, answer your damned emails. I know you read here, maybe you’ll get the hint.

Working on smoke signals to be seen in Germany from Colorado,

Your Big Sis

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Dear extended family on Tom’s side that we’re visiting for Thanksgiving,

This will come across as crabby and spoiled and I’m really rather tired of caring. We’re driving 14 hours across three states for Thanksgiving, to see all of you. Perhaps you could all alter your schedules for a change? We were planning on driving back on Friday so we could have a day or two to unwind and get the boys’ minds back into school mode after a week of grandparent debauchery. Now we are driving back on Saturday, so that the Thanksgiving meal can be had on Friday, when everyone can be there. I know schedules are difficult to change; try getting my kids back in school mode after a week of being off and I bet we win. I’m tired of us being the ones to do the traveling and no acknowledgment of that. I’m tired of no one feeling we’re worth visiting. I’m tired of explaining to my sons that their cousins can’t come out and visit them for a change. I’m tired of being the Big City Relatives; I’ve had to play that role my whole life and I’m over it. And I’m truly tired of biting my tongue as comments are made and sidelong glances are thrown about our lives and challenging kids. You guys don’t know 1% of what we handle out here and we purposely don’t say anything anymore because I’m tired of trying to convince you that I know what I’m doing and just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I’m sure if you lurk here this will come out over the mashed potatoes, and I don’t care. By that time I hope to have a glass or two of wine in me and will really not give a shit.

Looking up tongue studs for the hole that will be created by my teeth in a few weeks,

The Woman Who Stole Him and Moved Him Across the Country

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Dear Universe,

You know A has difficulty with change. Hell, this entire blog is a record of his difficulties with change. So was it really necessary for his very best friend in the whole wide world amen to move to New Mexico in a few weeks? You had to do that to him? Like the poor kid hasn’t had enough trauma in the last ten days learning to swallow pills, his best friend has to move, too? Cut the little guy some slack, please?

From one loving and exhausted Mama Bear

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Have a great weekend! After Ma Nature’s snit last week that resulted in 18 inches of snow, it’s 70 degrees and sunny today. Gotta love Colorado!

Yes, Jamie Bamber

Wouldn’t that bring you happy thoughts? Not necessarily PG, but happy? Mmmm….but I digress.

No, wait, I don’t want to digress yet.

Hang on.

Trying to breathe.

Um. Yum.

Ok, what else is cheery and pleasant and all that?

TOYS!

The Toys R Us BIG Toy Book!

Yes, the Holy Grail of Holiday Shopping for the Under 10 Set dropped into our lives in last Sunday’s paper. The boys have spent an embarrassingly large number of hours pouring over the pages, circling and marking and initialing and drooling (really dudes, the pages are starting to warp) and planning and negotiating and working up rough drafts to Santa.

I believe the current cost estimate is roughly akin to, say, the GDP of Luxembourg.

Last year A tried to email Santa his wish list: the entire Lego catalog. It didn’t make it to the North Pole, it got caught in the Holy Crap, Kid, Really? filters the elves set up after the boom years of yore.

This year J is actually writing his list (he’s working on it as I type). Yes, I have one kid who’d rather walk on fire with his tongue than write, and another whose day is not complete unless he writes something and tapes it on the wall. And then takes off paint. Or the finish on a cabinet island. But I’m not bitter, oh no…

Like many families, this year Christmas will be a smaller affair. It will certainly not be a repeat of last year’s Wii-derful Christmas. More along the lines of You Get What You Get And You Don’t Throw A Fit. I’ve already started shopping, and will be done by Thanksgiving because I want to enjoy my holidays this year. It will also not be a repeat of XMAS cards 2008, where I got cards, got stamps, got sick of the whole process and said screw it.

Me? What do I want? Well, I already have my drool-worthy photo above, so beyond that…I’m pretty content. I have a home, an employed spouse, reasonably happy and healthy sons, and a dog who thinks I walk on water. Beyond that, I want a direction to my life. I’ve been working on it, but it’s still a process I’m not close to completing. I miss having a goal, something to achieve. And frankly, I’d like to bring in a few coins. But overall, I have everything I need.

Just try to find that in the Big Book of Toys.

I could write about how Greeley, Colorado residents decided that education was just too expensive to fund.

I could write about my ongoing frustrations with the boys’ school and how A’s needs aren’t being met and how I’d probably have more success giving myself a hysterectomy with jello than getting some definitive answers.

I could write about all sorts of things today.

But I won’t.

I can’t begin to express my thanks for the support after yesterday’s hysterics on my part. The emails, the notes on Facebook, the comments here. I will email back everyone as soon as I can, as I like to do that, but a quick update here before the boys come tearing into the house. I did talk to the doctor last night, and agreed this is a challenging situation. Because this is such a new drug, A is only the fifth patient in his practice to be on Intuniv. So the doctor doesn’t have all the answers; in fact, last night he was looking up answers as I was asking the questions. We decided to move his dose to dinnertime, so that mornings are calmer, and because full effect is roughly six hours after taking it. That explains why A was almost falling asleep in school yesterday afternoon; his meds kicked in around 2:30. He held out as long as he could, went to bed at 6:30 and slept for a solid 12 hours. The kid has NEVER slept that long. Ever. The larger pill can be split and taken as 2 smaller sizes. Thank GOD. And I have another pill taking trick up my sleeve that we will try tonight.

This community, this online community, is something that is so difficult to explain unless you live in it. To try to explain to people that I have very dear friends all over the world I’ve never met, who I’d let take my kids out, who I trust completely…it sounds insane. This online tribe of writers, of parents, of people, is so valuable to me, and I’m honored to be a part of it.

There’s a special place in hell for pharmaceutical companies that manufacture ADHD medications that are available only in pill form. Medications for kids that already have an extremely difficult time focusing, for kids that likely have sensory issues that make swallowing a pill an exercise in futility. We put a man on the moon with a slide rule and less computing power than my iPhone, and you’re telling me you can’t come up with a way for these medications to be available in an easier to swallow form? Bullshit!

We’re into week 2 of A’s introduction to Intuniv, and it seems to be working. So far the only side effect has been fatigue, but that’s tolerable as it only hits in the evening and the end of daylight savings has screwed up everyone’s sleep patterns. The most improvement is supposed to come in weeks 2 and 3, and boy howdy, I’d sure like to see it! I know this will be a good fit for him, if we could just get past the issue of taking the damned pill! Last week, once he mastered taking the 1mg dose (smaller than a mini M&M), we were golden. Then came Saturday and the dose increased to 2mg. With a larger pill size (about the size of a Tic-Tac). Oh my hell. Two hours of torture on Saturday, THREE hours of misery on Sunday, and my losemyshitapalooza this morning. And it gets better. Next week he increases to 3mg, which (for the intro pack from the doctor) is two pills, a 1mg and a 2mg. I’m nearly hysterical even thinking about it.

This morning as he walked out the door (after an hour of trying), he chewed it and freaked the hell out (oh my god I chewed it I’m going to get sick I’m going to die please call the doctor I don’t want to get sick). So now I get to call the doctor and find out how bad it is that he did that. From what I can tell from the literature, it just means the extended release medication will be released too quickly into his bloodstream.

This is all getting tiresome, as you might imagine. Eight years. Eight years of fighting for him, helping him, trying to find the answers to help him, experts and doctors and meetings and consultations and medications and seminars and parenting classes and books and websites and…and I feel we’re getting nowhere. When does he improve? When are we no longer fighting his ADHD, his digestion, his sensory issues…when does he get to use and appreciate how gifted he is? When does he no longer have to fight against what holds him back and just soar?

When does it get easier?

I know parenting isn’t easy, I get that. I expected that. But this… And I know how well we have it, too! My kid isn’t disabled, he’s healthy, he’s happy, he’s awesome. We can (for the most part) afford the treatments he needs. But everything, and I mean everything, is a struggle for him. And that saddens me, because I feel I’ve failed him. I’ve failed in finding the “magic bullet” that would help him. I’m envious of other parents whose kids have improved, and feel guilty that I feel that way. I still feel there’s an answer out there for him, I’m just tired of searching for it.

I need to get his ear filter to him. Ten bucks says his first response isn’t “thanks mom!” but “it’s about time!” Sigh.

My pad of virtual paper is thick and fresh, with no indentations from previous writing; my cursor is freshly sharpened; the ideas mapped out kinda sorta not really no. Yes, ’tis the start of NaBloPoMo 2009! Never mind that the day is more than half over, a post is a post is a post. Unless it’s a fence post, as that is something entirely different. I’ve made sure the socks around here have been picked up, but beyond that, y’all are on your own. The glasses are over there, the liquor cabinet is in there by the files….no, other side, and if you can’t figure out where the ice is you probably shouldn’t be making yourself a double.

It’s a beeyoutiful day here in Colorado. That 18 some-odd inches of snow we got on Wednesday and Thursday is nearly gone. Wide patches of soggy grass beckon, and the boys ran out to play for awhile in shorts and no jackets. Now they (at least the older one) are shackled to homework. Expect the screaming and crying and gnashing of teeth to begin soon, followed by Act II: Parents Pouring Wine. A is yawning deeply, a combination of late night/sugar crash/daylight savings ending/ADHD meds fatigue side-effects. That he’s even sitting up amazes me; J is lying on the floor quietly whimpering. Methinks we’ll toss them in bed by 7 tonight and have a quiet Dinner Date Night. Everyone wins!

Boulder, miraculously, is still standing. A cluster of bad planning by CU this weekend. Let’s see where they went wrong, shall we? Halloween. Daylight Savings ends (extra hour for mayhem). Saturday. Full moon within 24 hours (it’s tonight, thankyouverymuch Full Moon watch I have in my sidebar). University of Colorado Homecoming. Which of these could have been scheduled better? If you said Daylight Savings, I agree. I don’t like giving up an hour of light at the end of the day, and I’m so tuned to waking early that I didn’t get my extra hour of sleep. I’d like it at a date more agreeable to me, thank you.

Ahh, what a month of NaBloPoMo I have ahead of me! Holiday preparations (oh holy hell, holiday preparations…), travel for Thanksgiving, ongoing fun with twice-exceptionalities, and the very real possibility of documenting a real-time nervous breakdown! (See aforementioned holiday preparations!) Thirty awesome days and posts ahead.

Welcome.