Suburban Rebel Mom

House Full of AD(H)D

2013-06-17T09:30:00.000-04:00

Over the last couple of months, J is slowly coming to the realization that he too, may have AD(H)D. Minor, like I have it, but there nonetheless. It has been entertaining to watch him comprehend what a world with AD(H)D is like. I was diagnosed with it as a child, and raising Xavier, I always saw our common ground when it comes to how we correlate with the world surrounding us. However, J, having always been under the impression that it was anxiety issues alone, didn't put two and two together until his new doctor asked him if he might think he has AD(H)D. Since then he has been reading books upon books, trying to determine if AD(H)D was the case all along. And it seems that it might be the case.

I'm actually thrilled with this new turn of events. This means that I can stop blaming myself in the dark corner of my mind, for being the sole parental unit responsible for screwing up Xavier with my genes. It looks like we are equally at fault, yay!

What has been the most entertaining has been watching J read these books about how AD(H)D can show itself, and his realizations on how it affects him. He'll tell me over dinner how, after reading the latest chapter, he learned this awesome new coping skill. It's called a schedule. And you write EVERYTHING down that you need to do, but only choose five things a day to focus on. Otherwise you would get overwhelmed.

Yeah, it's called a calendar. And everyone who knows me knows that if it's not written in my calendar, it doesn't exist. And I call it a busy day if there are three or more things I have to do in one 24 hour period. Even if it's just going to the pharmacy.

Then he mentioned how he learned that AD(H)D people procrastinate, because time doesn't work the same for them as it does for regular people. For example, if you know you have a deadline a week away, the average person will put that time to good use and parcel out time to work on said project a little bit at a time. But if you had AD(H)D, oh no!!!! That is NOT what we do. We physically can't, because that gives us too much time to focus. Instead, we wait until the last moment, panic, and begin what is called hyper focusing. It will be all that we can think of for that short period of time. It causes anxiety, which actually drives us to focus, and complete said project.

I did that all the time in high school, when I would have an eight page essay due. I still do it today with my blog. I lack the focus to sit down in a scheduled fashion and write a blog. Hell, I forget half the crap I want to blog about. Instead, when I have inspiration, I sit down and blog three to ten blogs in one sitting, then schedule them out so you are not inundated.

Another point J read, was that there are only four times we folks with AD(H)D can actually focus:

When something is new and catches our attention (like my Pintrest/Twitter spree I do once every few months).
something is of personal interest (reading for me. J finds that if I am into a good book, he literally has to stand in front of me, waving his arms like those guys at the airport who wave planes in, and shout my name three times.)
something is challenging
or you have an important deadline and time is running out

This explains my sporadic blog sprees. My blog is most definitely a personal interest, but like any blogger, sometimes it becomes more like work than fun, trying to find interesting things to post about while smacking my head against the monitor, trying to jump start my sarcasm. So you can thank my AD(H)D for acting like a moron and leaving you all to wait for when inspiration jumps me and smacks me down to the ground.

The latest nugget of information J dropped in my lap was that people who have AD(H)D do not "see" clutter. It doesn't register. He wandered upstairs while I was sitting in my recliner and surfing the web, despite the fact that our kitchen sink resembles a high rise in NYC, our bedroom looks like a tornado blew through it, and our dirty laundry pile resembles the leaning tower of Pisa.

Yup, I'd say that statement of clutter is quite accurate.

I'm actually very excited to know that J deals with AD(H)D. For one thing, he has always thought that he had an anxiety issue, or was suffering depression. But now that he is finding all these puzzle pieces that fit together, he seems to recognize what is actually the culprit. With that, he seems to be more relieved and less stressed because there is a VALID reason for why he feels the way he does. And there are tools that can help him.

Also, now that he is recognizing the symptoms, it's like we're suddenly talking the same language. Well, most of the time. We still suffer the XX/XY chromosome language disconnect. But in terms of why we do what we do, it seems that we aren't so different after all. And that makes it easier to give one another support when we forget things, or act as we do. And as J learns new tools to help him, we can offer these tools to Xavier when he starts middle school and faces tougher deadlines. Having three of us in the family think the same way will help understand and acknowledge upcoming issues.

Lastly, I am just so happy that I am not the sole parental unit who gave poor Xavier the ADHD gene. J can no longer blame me when Xavier is off his meds and running around like a loon. I now can look over at my husband and smile beatifically, then stick my tongue out at him. Ha!

To My Children's Dad

2013-06-16T09:00:00.000-04:00

Today is Father's Day, and with it will come a slew of home made gifts for dads across the country, or big gifts, like a new grill, seasons tickets to his favorite sports team, etc. And dads will smile, thank their children, and then the following day all will go back to normal.

While J was out of the house yesterday, I asked my boys why they loved their daddy.

Xavier:

He gets up with me in the (early) morning and gets me breakfast
He helps me when I get hurt
He's really funny
He lets me stay up late on weekends
He helps me set up my games
He surprises me with treats
He is the best dad in the whole world!

Ashe:

He helps me buy my games
He gives me baths
I like his clothes
He's a boy like me

Soren:

I just do

J is an amazing husband and father. I hear all sorts of stories from other moms about how hard it is to get their husbands to help around the house. This is not true in our household. If anything, I would say that J pampers me and the kids. It's so obvious that he loves us, and he shows it in so many ways.

J gets up every morning at the crack of dawn with the boys, because he knows that I have never been, nor ever will be, a morning person. He never complains about this, and feeds the boys breakfast, gets their lunches for school ready, gets them dressed. Each school day I just need to roll out of bed and carpool them. Even then, J carpools twice a week so that I can sleep in for an extra hour.

While I do the cooking, J does the dishes. Every night.

We alternate putting the boys to bed. He brushes the boys teeth, reads Soren a bed time story, chases monsters away, just as much as I do.

He's the Bath Master. He helps each kid clean up, washes the younger boys hair, and drains the tub.

J takes out the trash every week.

Every Saturday, J takes one boy out and does our food shopping.

I bring down the laundry, wash and dry it. Then J brings it up three flights of stairs and sorts it out.

J is always there to help out the family with electronic stuff: games, blogs, shows... anything related to electronics, J is our go to man.

J is an amazing father. You couldn't fantasize better.

Over the past few months I have heard him grumbling under his breath as he is packing lunches for the boys. When I asked him what was wrong, he would pick up the juice box case and point to where it said "Approved by Moms". He was bitter (and rightfully so) that it said moms and not parents. Because he is a DAD, and dads need recognition for choosing healthy food for their children.

We headed out food shopping one day and as we pulled into the parking lot, J grumbled again. When I asked him what was wrong, he said that he didn't think it was fair that the reserved spots where tagged for "Moms with Kids." Why couldn't it be "Parents with kids"? Dads do their fair of food shopping with little ones in tow.

And you know what? He is absolutely right.

Take away this one day a year, and what we hear from the media is how hard it is for moms. How much work we moms do to raise our children. How we moms are the ones to help with homework, drag kids to soccer practice, dry away the tears when our kids fall, or have a fight with a friend at school. How we moms are superwomen and can multitask a job, maintaining a household, and raise our kids.

But, aside from this one day, where is the praise for dads? Yes, there are articles being written that this day, dads are more and more stepping up. Dads are spending more time with their kids than ever before. Dads are stepping up and helping around the house more and more. And that is FANTASTIC! But most of the time when I read these articles, it almost seems as if it has been written as a relief article for moms, not a praise for this generation of dads. Now granted, there are a few out there that ae giving dads the praise that they deserve, but there are not enough of them...yet.

So you know what? Today, and every day, I want us to stop for a moment, and praise dads. Praise our husbands, our children's father. The man who checks the closet and under the bed for monsters. The one who packs a nutritious lunch for his kids. The one who will stop what he is doing to fix a boo boo. The one who is always ready for a hug. The one who helps to teach our children what it is to be a good guy, a role model for the future generation.

To all you dads out there, you rock! Seriously, society doesn't give you enough credit. Thank you for all that you do. You deserve so much more recognition than one day a year. You deserve a special parking space in the grocery store parking lot. You deserve equal rights of approval for juice boxes and other food products. You deserve equal recognition in the media.

I appreciate you dads out there.

And J, I appreciate and love you more than I can ever express. I couldn't do this journey without you. Nor could the boys. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for ALL that you do for us, your family. We love you so much.

Saved by the Eldest!

2013-06-14T09:30:00.000-04:00

Told to me by my mom:

Soren runs up to G-ma and asks for a back scratch. She complies. A few minutes later:

Soren: Ahhh, that feels good. Now scratch my arms. (She complies).

Soren: Ok, now scratch my legs. (Which she does. As she is scratching his legs, Xavier wanders downstairs).

Soren: That feels sooo good! Now... scratch my penis.
(G-ma has NO clue how to respond to this and stares, flabbergasted, until Xavier, with an annoyed look on his face responds.)

Xavier: Do it yourself!
Soren: Oh.... ok!

G-ma saved from an embarrassing convo!

Hey Gamer Guys, We Need To /Chat

2013-06-12T08:00:00.000-04:00

Men, I think it's time to pull up some chairs and we have a serious heart to heart. Because the kind of shit I'm blogging about today has been going on for too damn long.

For those of you who know me, either in the real world, gamer world, or just through my blogs, you guys know that, while I rebel against societies restrictions on "moms", I am not a part of the feminist movement where I remove my bra, burn it, and think all men on the planet suck. In fact, I like guys a lot. Most of my besties are males, and have been since I was a tiny tot. I can relate much more easily to men than I do to women. I've always been this way, and maybe it has been a part of why I have always enjoyed gaming. I get the same sort of euphoria when I rock out a raid with my fellow guildies and we take down that mother fucking boss for the first time. However, I do believe that we guys and gals are equal, and should be portrayed as such. While men and women are different, I'd like to think that evolution created us this way so that we compliment one another. Where one's weakness lay, the other picks up, and vice versa.

That doesn't mean that because we females may not generally be physically as strong as men, doing Strong Man contests and shit, that we are weak. In fact, anyone who has witnessed a female dealing with almost ten months of carrying around a child in her body then forcing a full fledged mini human into the world via her girly bits would laugh outright at such a ludicrous thought.

And yet...

Usually news stories don't bother me enough to post about it. But this one does. And while it is not as important in the real world compared to

unequal pay in the workforce, or
how last week, the MS gov. came out and blamed working women for the poor educational performance of today's youth because they don't stay home to raise their children,
or how a social studies teacher told graduating female students to "Stay home and...that your greatest role in your life will be that of wife and mother."

this discussion with you is related all the same. And while other women out there are fighting for the causes above, I realized today as both a female *and* a gamer, that this is a platform I do need to fight for.

So here is what I saw today, while catching up on Current Events:

http://www.forbes.com/sites/jordanshapiro/2013/06/11/e3-inspires-woman-bashing-on-twitter/

Misogynist gamers are at it again, attacking Anita Saarkesian for making a simple observation. Perhaps all the excitement at E3 has made their thumbs twitchy. There’s nothing particularly surprising here. Hopped up on adrenaline and “fiero,” they invoke the patriarchal battle-cry. Of course, Saarkesian is the easy scapegoat. She has been for some time, the villain in social media’s version of a juvenile battle between the sexes. The tweet:
Thanks #XboxOne #E3 press conference for revealing to us exactly zero games featuring a female protagonist for the next generation.
— Feminist Frequency (@femfreq) June 10, 2013Saarkesian, as usual, was met with an onslaught of misogynist attack.
Some of the antagonist responses are so offensive, crude, sexist, and disgusting that I’d rather not post them here. Visit Saarkesian’s Tumblr to see her screen captures of some of the worst.
Apparently, “women don’t belong in video games” and “in general, men are better at battle rolls [sic] and other battle type stuff.”
Worse: “What did you expect? Cooking and cleaning games at console launch reveal?” and “maybe if women were more interesting and capable at life there might be more female led games, like super floral arranger.”

********

I took a look at the tweets that was creating this firestorm. I recognize, fellas, that many of these, if not all, are trolls. But that's not the point, and I'll get to that in a bit. For now, I just want to show you some of the tweets that really pissed me off (and frankly, should piss you off as well):

Now guys, what I want you to do is this this. First, I want you to go back and reread those tweets. Read them very carefully. And while you do, I want you to picture yourself in the shoes of a woman who loves to game just as much as you do. I want you to think of a female friend. A guildie. A wife. Sister. Cousin. Someone you may know who loves the same types of games that you do, but does not have a penis.

I'll let you be for a moment while you do this.

Now if you come back and say "Hey SRM! I don't know any female gamers" I say to you Bullshit. Absolutely, without a doubt, bullshit. Because here's the deal guys. There was a study done that just came out and the numbers say it all.

http://gamepolitics.com/2013/06/11/esa-report-women-comprise-nearly-half-gamer-population#.UbfHz3XD_X4

The Entertainment Software Association released its report, "2013 Essential Facts About the Computer and Video Game Industry" on the official opening day of the Electronic Entertainment Expo in Los Angeles. The ESA represents the video games industry, operates the E3 Expo trade show, and owns the ESRB, in case you didn't know.According to the freshly released report, adult women represent a significant percentage of the video game-playing population than boys age 17 or younger. Nearly half of all video game players are women, according to the report. Women make up 31 percent of the video game-playing population, while boys 17 and under represent only 19 percent of game players. Women are 45 percent of the entire game playing population and 46 percent of the time are the most frequent game purchasers.

*******

I really wanted to make sure that last paragraph caught your attention. Because that is extremely important, men. Nearly HALF of the gamers out there are female. 45% of gamers have a vagina. 45%. Vagina. Female. Your wife, sister, mother, daughter, cousin, friend, next door neighbor.... this stat needs to be slammed into all gamers heads again and again until any gamer could type it with their eyes blindfolded.

We femme gamers haven't just all of a sudden popped out of the woodwork screaming "EQUAL RIGHTS, BITCH!" Some of us have been here since the beginning. Our population may have grown over the years to become the 45% population that it is today, but gaming is not a man only universe, nor has it ever been. You guildies of mine know that I have been rocking the MMORPG scene since EverQuest pretty much launched!

We have been around! And our numbers are growing. We are with you guys, learning the moves, the stats, the rotations, cooldowns. We femmes are right along side you males, working as a team, staying up late at night to go over and over and OVER a fight, wiping until it all clicks and we take that boss down. We're right there with you on Ventrillo or TeamSpeak, screaming VICTORY IS OURS, FUCK YA!

We femmes are there, doing that daily rep grind, reading the forums to better ourselves, spending hours at the dummies, fine tuning our spec, our buttons, our parse.

We're right there with you! And yet...

How many of you have watched gen chat and seen the phrase "There are no girls in MMO's" bandied about?

How many of you have seen in chat or forums, once a girl gamer speaks up, that others tell her to "get back in the kitchen" or "it must be her time of the month"?

How many of you have been reading through gaming forums for info, only to stumble upon a girl bashing thread?

How many of you have seen femmes kicked out/ refused entry to guilds/groups/raids because they are female?

How many of you have spoken up on our behalf?

As a female gamer who has almost 15 years experience of gaming ( not including console games... if I added that in we're talking 25 years experience) I could yell and curse, and bitch about this issue. But you know what guys? It won't do much good. Specifically because of the fact that I *am* female. My voice won't matter. It won't change a thing. But, your voice can. As a male gamer, you have the POWER to stand up to asshats like those who tweet the crap like above. You have the POWER to denounce sexist idiots in gen chat. You have the POWER to stand up for your wife/sister/friend and say "this is fucking bullshit, and we men will not tolerate our femme gamers being stomped on".

Because this is one part where you men have more power right now than we femmes do. We will get there, don't think we won't. But right now, RIGHT NOW, we need you: our husbands, our brothers, our friends, our guildies. We femmes, who work side by side with you in the multi-virtual universes... we need some heroes. Because we will continue to game. And we will continue to kick pixelated ass. And we will continue to push back at the sexist prepubescent trolls who think they are a manly man when they put women gamers down.

But we also know, that without real men standing up and letting it be known that this type of behavior is reprehensible, nothing will change. And frankly, I think it's time it did. Don't you?

From one gamer to another,

J's New Look

2013-06-10T09:30:00.000-04:00

Over the past several months, J has not been happy with his hair. As he grows older, it has started to thin. He's not balding, but with his already fine light hair, any thinning causes him concern.

And so J has grown unhappy.

We have been trying out different hair styles over time, trying to find one that makes J happy. We have tried styling it forward. That looked good, but J constantly complained of it getting in his eyes. We tried styling it to the side. We tried combing it back. Growing it long. Short. Buzzed.

And still J wasn't happy. He says that he would be happy with a mullet, but as the stylist in the family I put my foot down. He can have a mullet if he wants one, but he also knows that the couch will be his bed if he does so.

Last weekend he told me that he was going to surprise me by giving himself and all three boys mohawks. When I asked why this didn't occur, he sheepishly replied that only Xavier was on board with the idea.

This weekend I found him browsing through hairstyles for men, but he was growing frustrated because every guy had cuts that, in his mind, sucked. J doesn't want something normal. Nope. J said that he thinks he is going through a mid life crisis and wants something cool. Like a top knot. But every time he googled top knot only women with hair buns came up. He did not want a bun. He did not have enough hair to make a bun.

"I want something cool, like Ragnar."

Ragnar Lothbrook from History Channel "Vikings"

"Ragnar, huh?" I looked over his hair, judging length on top for the rows he'd need. "You will need to grow out the top of your hair a little, but we could start it." And I'm thinking to myself, 'Hell of a better idea than a freaking top knot or mullet.'

So I grab my comb, water bottle, and ask Xavier to grab me my little elastic bands, and get to work. It's been a long time since I've done rows in anyone's hair and it took me awhile to relearn. But I finally got the hang of it and within 30 minutes, I had five rows.

Looking at him from every angle, I decided five was too many. I took two out. Next, J grabbed the buzzer and, without a guard, I shaved everything else off, down to peach fuzz scalp.

I will admit, when we first started with this idea, I wasn't sure if J could pull the look off. Not every man can pull off such a daring style, and when shaved head comes to mind, I always cringe at the possibilities of a lumpy head. But despite my initial misgivings, I had to admit, J really rocked the Viking look:

J's new Viking hair

We did decide that his glasses don't really mesh with his new look. So J will be heading off to the optometrist soon to get new contacts. J is really digging the look and is already talking about getting a Viking woad tattooed on his scalp. We'll see. And of course, will post pics if he does.

So what do you guys think?

Video Games Live Symphony

2013-06-09T10:00:00.000-04:00

***WARNING: This post contains a lot of photos.***

We have a ritual in our family, that after the end of the school year, J & I offer the boys a congratulatory gift. It's our way of saying thanks for doing your best in school, you're done so let's party!!!

Usually we offer the kids a monetary value so that they can buy something that they've had their eyes on. This is big, because the *only* times we parental units buy the boys something is if it's their birthday, Xmas, they have done something amazing and we want to say thank you, or the end of school. The rest of the time they earn whatever they buy through their allowance.

This year however, as I was in the car listening to my AM news radio, an interview with the NC Symphony was on and I heard about an upcoming concert that I thought Xavier and Ashe would go CRAZY for. It was the first ever in Raleigh, Video Games Live symphony: a symphony of music straight out of video games.

My thought was that this would be the perfect way to introduce the symphony to the boys. What a wonderful cultural experience, catered to their very hobbies!

J & I offered the boys the option for their usual shopping outing, or this unique opportunity for their graduation gift. They did not disappoint me, and by a unanimous vote, we were going to the symphony.

One of the cool side events going on would be a costume contest of your favorite video game character. Ashe was all set. Since he has been wearing the same Link costume on an almost daily basis for two years, it was a no brainer.

Xavier decided that he also wanted to dress up... mere hours before the concert started. Of course it couldn't be simple either. Oh no! It had to be something elaborate. He decided that he wanted to be Altair, from Assassins Creed.

Altair from Assassins Creed

I had no clue where to start. I don't sew well, nor did I have a random white bed sheet lying around the house. Instead, I tossed every article of fabric we owned around my bedroom, trying to figure out how the hell I was going to make even a similar costume for Xavier. Then my eyes landed on a black pillowcase, and I remembered that I had two cloaks I used for Halloween last year that might work. Add in my leather bracers, my calf high boots, a pair of khakis, and a plastic dagger.... and we might have something.

I whipped out the pillowcase, grabbed my scissors, and got to work. 90 minutes and 25 safety pins later, and we were ready for the symphony!

Xavier (Altair) & Ashe (Link) ready to go to their first symphony

Now, I was asked by friends why I didn't join the boys and dress up too? I love dressing up and would have done so except for one factor. Xavier was wearing 2/3 of my go to costume. I think the only two things he didn't use of mine were my leather pants (which I wore that night) and my corset (which would have looked awkward on my eleven year old son, and I wasn't going down that road!)

Posing with the boys

While I did not get the chance to dress up due to my motherly sacrifice, J actually did! Not that anyone would know it. But I promise you, J dressed up as his avatar....his Xbox avatar. To prove to everyone that J thoughtfully picked out his costume for the symphony, I did a side by side comparison of J's Xbox avatar and J himself outside the symphony:

pretty uncanny how accurate that is, huh?

We get to the concert hall an hour before it starts. Within moments of us pushing open the doors, Xavier and Ashe were bombarded by adults, both in costume and not, exclaiming over how cute they were, or how cool they looked. Both boys ate this up, Ashe swinging his sword around yelling "HYAH!" or playing his plastic ocarina. Xavier would pose, head tilted down, looking up under the shadow of his hood, then pulling out a plastic dagger from his bracer. And the crowd ate it up like crack.

I put the bys names down for the costume contest, something I thought would be a simple affair out in the lobby. But oh no. When the time came for the contest to start, the guy in charge started leading everyone and their parents through a long corridor, down a set of stairs, and finally into a stairwell, where the contestants were prepped to go on stage. Huh. Didn't see that coming.

While J & I stayed backstage, all contestants walked on stage to a thundering applause. I was able to sneak out and grab a few photos and a quick vid of Xavier and Ashe:

Ashe & Xavier onstage with another Link, Princess Peach, and TF2 sniper

I wish I had stayed out a little longer to get the crowds reaction when it came time to vote. The crowd voted by screaming. The MC would put his hand over a contestant, and gauge the crowds reaction. When it came time for Ashe and Xavier, the crowd flipped out. I mean, you would have thought that we were at a Bieber concert and the audience was filled with prepubescent girls. It. Was. Crazy!!!!! It became clear that the winner was between the two brothers. The MC had a hard time, going back and forth a few times trying to determine the winner:

MC: Little Link?

Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MC: Altair?

Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MC: Link?

Crowd WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MC: Altair?

Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MC: Link? Altair?

Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

By one decibel, Ashe won, as J says, on cuteness alone. Xavier was extremely gracious about the whole thing, and seemed to be just fine knowing that it was only his height that made him lose. And while Ashe had his photo taken and posted on all sorts of media sites last night, both he and Xavier were treated like rock stars for the rest of the evening. If they went to the bathroom, they had to stop and pose for photos, high fives, and hair ruffles.

Photo of Ashe taken by the NC Symphony after his win.

Finally, we sat down to listen to the symphony. And I have to say, that while the tickets were quite pricey for a family as large as ours, EVERY PENNY spent was WORTH IT! We have not had that much fun in a long time. It wasn't a normal concert, where everyone had to hush hush. We were told to clap, whistle, scream, cheer, holler, any time we felt like it. And we did. Or maybe I should say *I* did. I almost lost my voice for cheering so loud, and I'm pretty sure that if anyone asked, J would have claimed that he had no idea who the crazy woman sitting by him and his children were. Someone should lock her up already! I was screaming and cheering more than I do at the Red Sox game at Fenway (and coming from a native masshole, that's saying something).

Xavier and Ashe, like me, were completely enthralled. While they did not know some of the older games (like Contra, or Castlevania), they cheered when Zelda, Mario, Sonic, and others came on that they knew and loved.

For four hours, minus an intermission, we sat and listened to the amazing journey the symphony took us on. And at the very end, after the symphony had given us one encore and had taken it's final bow, the co-creator of Video Games Live, Tommy Tallarico, and Laura Intravea (flute Link for anyone who watches youtube) came onstage, and started a sing a long with the audience, to one of our families favorite gaming songs, Portals "Still Alive" by Jonathan Coulton (one of our favorite composers/singers. Look him up, you won't regret it):

After the concert was over, we asked the boys what they thought of their experience. And the one word they kept repeating over and over was that the symphony was EPIC. And now they want to know.... when can we go again?

Mission accomplished!

I'm Not Dead Yet....

2013-06-06T12:32:00.001-04:00

I might have given myself a concussion today. Not sure yet, but if I start hurling, J is on notice to rush me to Urgent Care. And the day started off so well...

With the boys vacationing at the G-rents, I slept in this morning until 10. It was so wonderful to wake up naturally! I had a few errands I needed to run, so I popped in the car to get them over and done with, in order to come home before lunch and spend the rest of the afternoon lounging on the couch reading my latest book.

I stopped at the boys school to pick up Ashe's inhaler. While I was there, the school secretary mentioned she loved my ring back tone (Pirates of the Caribbean) so I taught her how to make her own. She had just bought her very first smart phone and was so excited to try out all of the new things her old cell phone couldn't do. We talked about multiple ring tones, ring tone editors, and how she could have a ring back tone for every day of the week if she wanted to. I left her giddy with excitement.

Next on my list was the kids doctors office. I needed to pick up Xavier's medication prescriptions. I figured I'd hit Ulta after that, drop of the meds, then head home.

Instead, after laughing with the doctors secretary over Xavier's recent sex ed debacle, when I went to open the van door, my spatial understanding seemed to have misfired and the van door smacked me upside the head like a bitch in a black market wrestling match. I went down.

Although I saw stars and planets, and maybe a comet or three, it didn't hurt at first. I glanced in the window and noticed that the side of my temple was literally indented. That's when I started to get woozy. I hung on to the car for a few minutes, trying to figure out if I was woozy from seeing my head pushed in like soft clay, or if it was the injury itself.

After those few minutes passed I decided the best course of action was to not be an idiot and drive just yet. I walked back to the pediatricians office and ever so sweetly asked if they had an ice pack I could borrow. Ann, the awesome front desk manager, rushed over to take a look. I know she's seen some scary stuff so when her jaw dropped upon looking at me and my new mark of idiocy, I knew I was in deep shit.

She hustled me over to a quiet dark room, grabbed the nurse and an ice pack, then hustled back tsk-tsking. The RN, a new nurse to the practice, asked if I was dizzy. I wasn't but I was seeing spots in my vision once in awhile. She asked if I had had breakfast yet (nope) and handed me two lollipops. It was then that I realized that if I was going to smack myself upside the head, I had done it in the right place. Sucking on a cream soda dum dum, I lay down with the icepack and waited to see if I was going to pass out.

The kids doctor sauntered into the room ten minutes later and she and I both laughed when she saw who was the mom who hit her head. I love the boys doctor. She has such a great sense of humor. She checked me out and said it was a shame I hit the side of my head.
"Why" I asked?
"Because if you hit the middle of your head, you would have looked like the perfect Klingon." We both gave the Vulcan hand sign and snickered.

She asked the normal questions one asks a person with head trauma: how many fingers am I holding up? What day of the week is it? What month is it? I got the first one right no problem. The other two I whined to her that it was not fair she ask me those questions! It's summer vacation and all days look the same. She laughed and asked me to try. Fortunately I knew today was Thursday (it is Thursday, right?) because tomorrow is Friday and we're headed to the symphony tomorrow. I also know it's June because the kids are out of school. So nyah.

After a lot of back and forth between the doctor, nurse, and Ann, it was decided that I would live. I was given another lollipop, gifted the ice pack, and told to head straight to Urgent Care if I pass out or vomit twice. I thanked them for their help, and now I am determined to send them a case of wine for the holidays. I also lament that I can not have them as my own doctors, as my PCP sucks donkey balls.

So here I am at home, alive but now in pain, sitting still and wondering if I am going to rush to the bathroom. I feel woozy once in awhile (not good) but that's the worst of it. Well that and the fact that my forehead is showing off a pretty little goose egg.

J just shook his head and muttered under his breath (although loud enough so that I could hear him) that it's my genes that cause Ashe to have so many Ashe-idents. I'd debate him on that, but I just want to lie down now and whimper.

Ugh

Educating Post Sex Ed

2013-06-05T10:00:00.000-04:00

The other week, Xavier's class finally had "Health Class" which really means intro to sex ed. A few weeks prior, all parents were given a notice with the option to have their kids opt out. Poor Xavier didn't get that choice. We threw him into the deep water of embarrassing videos about puberty with the understanding that he was to ask questions both at school and at home if he didn't understand anything.

I personally feel that sex ed is a very important issue, a life lesson that needs to be hammered into a child's brain again and again and again. Growing up, my mom was too embarrassed to discuss sex ed. Her idea was to let me learn in school, offer me the option of birth control pills when I felt I needed them, but then when I asked at age 15 (my monthly time was an awful 7 day hell of major pain and BC pills were supposed to help) she freaked out and screamed that I would turn into a slut and sleep with any boy who looked my way. I learned from the pitiful classes they had in school. I learned from books. I learned both good and horrible information, in the girls bathroom at school. And there was no way I was going to lead my children down the same path. My kids would learn everything they asked about in full detail, even if I had to suck it up and answer those questions that leave you red faced and trembling, wishing for a glass of vodka.

I've blogged before about having "The Talk" with Xavier and Ashe during different times in their lives. And knowing that sex ed was coming up in school, Xavier and I have been conversing about things he might learn, and how this was just a small portion of sex ed. I warned him that it would be embarrassing, but it was so, so important that he had to pay attention. And if he had questions, he needed to ask: ask the teachers, ask his dad, ask me. Anyone, so long as he asked. He promised me that he would, although he felt more comfortable asking me than someone in school. I actually felt pleased that this was so. I feel like I passed some parenting test, to know that my son felt comfortable enough to ask me questions about sexual health.

The day of sex ed came and I picked him up early from school. I asked him how things went. He said it was embarrassing. He learned about how he would get hair all over, including "down there". He wanted to know if he could shave it. I said sure, but it might be easier to wax instead. He blanched. He then said how he learned about how girls get their period, and how he was so happy he wasn't a girl. I agreed.

Then he said he learned how boys would have wet dreams. And I asked him if he knew what a wet dream was. And he said "Yeah, it's when you have a dream about wet things: like fire hydrants, hoses, rain and stuff."

........................

OK I admit it. I busted out laughing my ass off. Seriously though, who wouldn't?!!!

After I calmed down and my guffaws subsided into sporadic giggles, I explained what a wet dream really was. His face morphed into a look of horror as he began to grasp the full implications of what a wet dream meant for him. He asked more questions, I answered. Back and forth we went, covering everything else he had learned in school to make sure that he didn't have any other misconceptions.

And at the end, our deal was that when he started having wet dreams, if he didn't feel comfortable telling me, that was cool. All he needed to do was bring down his bed sheets and I would wash them for him, no questions asked. He was cool with that, and thanked me for being such an awesome mom. As we finished up the convo on sex ed, he said that if he had any other questions he promised to come to me and ask because it was easier to talk to me than ask at school. And I'm cool with that. Because if school is leaving the impression on kids that wet dreams are about water, than I have to make sure this kid gets the real information.

Irony on Survival

2013-06-03T20:28:00.000-04:00

Tonight during dinner, I asked J if he would like to hit the trails at Bond Park for a good walk. Since the kids are hanging out at the G-rents all week, we could actually try one of the more difficult trails. And I figured that since I spent my day doing nothing but playing around on Pintrest and demotivational poster websites, that a good hike was in order. J agreed.

So off to the park we went. And we had a jolly good time, weaving through the dense foliage, wandering around the perimeter of the lake. I, of course, kept my eyes out for those pesky copperheads that like to blend in to mother nature, as well as the gigantic tree roots that patterned the trail.

As we wandered through the woods, waving hello to the stray jogger or two, we had all sorts of fun conversational topics. Like, what we would do if this MERS-CoV virus morphs into something so contagious that, like the bubonic plague, it would devastate half of the worlds population. I was all for fleeing to the middle of nowhere, building us our own cabin, and living off the land with traps and shit. I told J that we should head back to Harris Teeter right now and stock up on more Deer Park water jugs that were on sale this week for $1 a galleon. J asked how the hell would we build our own cabin or trap animals to live off of. I said we should take the time that we have, research this shit, and print out instructions to take with us when the world starts going crazy. J wanted to know if we should have an emergency kit filled with hammers and other things. He has a good point. We may also need to head over to Lowe’s this weekend.

We continued debating the pros and cons of fleeing civilization if an epic plague descended upon us (please remember that we are a stay at home mom and a software engineer) we both began to notice that it was beginning to get dark. Darker than it should have been for that time of day. Both of us stopped in our tracks and glanced up, beyond the tree line and stared.

“That doesn’t look good” J said, and I nodded silently. Right above us, seemingly out of nowhere, was a giant black cloud that was growing bigger and darker by the moment. J fumbles for his phone to check his weather app while I try to decide if it would be better to continue, or if it would be easier to backtrack. As I glance both ways, trying to figure out the best solution I idly mention “At least it’s not a thunderstorm.”

BOOOM!

“Awww, shit.”

“Yeeeah, radar says we got red coming up on us and fast.”

Realizing we hadn’t quite made it half way we decide to backtrack. We kept pretty dry staying under the foliage of the trees, but watching wide eyed as it poured over the lake beside us, sheets of rain driven by the wind as it picked up swiftly. We hurried along, asking each other which was safer if lightning began to get bad: should we stay under cover of the forest, or try to get out in the open? I know you’re not supposed to be near anything tall during a lightning storm, but I always think of that as the lone tree in the middle of a field I think I would take my chances in a forest instead of out in the open near the lake.

There is one point that we had no choice. For about a half mile, the trail we had followed was out in the open. We stood at the edge of the forest for a moment, gazing at the downpour, psyching ourselves up for the inevitable. There was just no way in hell that we were going to get out of this unscathed. We looked at each other, counted to three…..

And then we ran!

About one hundred yards in, we realized it was fruitless. We were soaked. Completely, utterly, without a doubt drenched. I don’t know how J could even see, what with his glasses streaming with water. And as we slowed down surrendering to the rain I couldn’t stop giggling. It felt good! It felt freeing! I was like a little kid, throwing my hands up into the air, twirling around and laughing. It’s been a long time since I could connect with nature and just enjoy the ride. I had no choice so I might as well enjoy the moment and memory it created.

Before we got back to our car, I pulled out my phone and snapped a couple of shots of us:

SRM here, laughing my arse off in the pouring rain

I don't know how the hell J could see for the last half of our hike. I want to get him mini windshield wipers ha!

Oh the irony of it all. To be debating how we would survive out in the wild as we forgot to check the weather before heading out on a hike. The humor was most definitely not lost on us. I’m still sitting here, dried off in my PJ’s giggling about the complete absurdity of the situation.

But it was fun and I don’t regret it. I do hope that we can finish the hike tomorrow without rain, but it won’t be as entertaining as it was tonight.

Note to self: Check radar before going out. Also, learn how to make string traps, and how to make a log cabin for a family of five. Just in case….

Vexed Volunteer

2013-06-03T09:30:00.000-04:00

I hate volunteering to do things for my kids at school. I realize how bad of a mom that makes me sound, but it's true. It seems like every time I open my mouth and offer to volunteer, some mom or five get pissed.

Let's take the latest instance for example:

Three weeks ago, an email was sent out to all fifth grade parents, asking for volunteers for this weeks "Promotion Ceremony". Parents could choose from making punch, to setting up, to making a slideshow presentation of the kids. As a mom who sucks at scrapbooking, but loves making virtual videos, I thought the slideshow would be a great way of using my skills to create something touching for the kids and parents So I opened my stupid mouth and said I would do it.

Two weeks ago, a mass email was sent out to all parents and teachers, asking for photos to be sent to me. The deadline was for this past Friday. That would give me one weekend to go through all of the photos, organize them into a timeline of the year, and orchestrate them to music with visual effects.

Ten days ago, I had received over 100 photos..... but only from one class. Fearing that time was passing, I emailed the teacher whose kids had no parents send in photos, asking her if she had any to send over. She sent me about 50, and re-sent an email to her class parents saying that they had to get those photos in by the weekend. A few parents sent me a bunch.

Two days ago, I began working on the tedious task of picking out the best photos while trying to stay as balanced as possible between the two classrooms. By Sunday I had everything together, and worked on this slideshow for hours.

Today is Tuesday, technically four days after the deadline, but I allowed photos up until Sunday. I sent out the video for approval before carpool. Since then, in the past four hours I have received no less than five emails from parents with every excuse under the sun as to why they haven't sent in photos of their children until today. I had to be the mom who was both understanding yet sorrowful, that the deadline was four days ago and that the video has already been completed after many hours of work.

Now, most parents have been really understanding of the situation. I appreciate that more than they could possibly know. Because I have already been sent some nasty emails implying that it's my fault that their precious snowflake won't be in the slideshow. I received a passive aggressive response from a mom who said it was such a shame that it was too late, because her child has never fit in at school, and now she is an awful parent for letting her child down by not getting them in by the deadline.

Look, I get it. I really do! I am a mom who deals with ADD and there are a ton of times where deadlines for something have come and gone and I have totally fucked up. I have been that mom! And it sucks. But whose fault is it when I forget something? Mine, and mine alone. I own up to that, because it is my fault for dropping the ball, and I hope to teach my kids to own up to their own mistakes.

So it really bugs me when I feel like I am being thrown under the bus for volunteering MY Labor Day weekend to build a beautiful montage of the fifth graders, when some parents waited over two weeks to send me photos. Everyone had more than enough time to go through their photos and send them in. And why should I, the one who volunteered in the first place, have to be punished for your mistakes? Where do parents get off thinking that I have more time on my hands to sit down with your late photos, and redo the WHOLE damn show just to get your child front and center in the video? I may be a SAHM, but that doesn't mean I have anther six plus hours up my sleeve to seamlessly merge music and photos together. No, I have a three year old who wants me to take him on walks, and read to him, and play games with him. I have two kids who will be home in a few hours, and will need me to help them with their homework. I have a son who needs to go to middle school orientation tonight. I have errands to run tomorrow, dinners to cook, laundry to sort.... I don't have time to redo a project I volunteered to spend my weekend working on for the fifth grade class because you missed the deadline.

I AM sorry that you missed it. I wish I could help you. But it's not my fault. I did the best I could with the material I was given to work with. I did this because I love my son, and I want him, and his classmates to be able to look at this slideshow and feel like they have accomplished something great. But in order to give them the best that I can offer, like anything else, I had to work with a deadline to complete it in time. And so did you.

(P.S I am sending this out a week later than when it happened. I should be over it by now ;)

Losing a Friend

2013-05-31T10:00:00.000-04:00

Wednesday night. long after the boys went to bed, J and I were sitting on the couch watching tv when we heard the pitter patter of feet slowly trudging down the stairs. A sniffle followed, ending in a sad sigh. We looked up at the stairs to see Ashe walking down the stairs, tears in his eyes. When we asked him what was the matter, he tearily told us that today, his best friend C told him that they weren't friends anymore.

Since the beginning of kindergarten, Ashe and C have been tight. I mean soul mate tight. C was the only girl in class who was as much of a video game junkie as Ashe was. In fact, I have had several conversations with C's mom, alleviating her fears that C would grow up with no friends because she is such a tom boy. I made it crystal clear that a gamer girl was going to be one of the coolest kids as she grew up, because she would have a ton of guy friends who would become like her big brothers.

Ashe and C loved Zelda. Ashe and C loved Mario. Ashe and C loved lots of things that many other kids didn't. One day, when I took Ashe over to C's house for a play date, he brought his Link doll with him, because he wanted to show it to her. When C opened the door, she was holding the exact same doll in her hand.

When Ashe had his birthday party, he invited C and one other friend, E, from school. When C had her birthday party, Ashe was the only one from school that was invited. C's mom and I used to joke that they really were soul mates.

So when Ashe came downstairs on the verge of tears, my heart tore in two. This was a situation that I know is common as kids learn to navigate friendships. And it was bound to come up one day. But to have it be C, his bestest friend, and not some other child, was a very hard blow. We knew something must have been going on, because over the last two weeks, when we asked Ashe what he did during recess, he would say that he played alone. When asked why, he said that C and the other kids were pretending to play "Skylander" and he wasn't interested in joining. J even contemplated buying the game, just so that Ashe could play it and join in, but Ashe was adamant that Skylander was not something he was interested in.

The story comes out that C was insistent that she wanted to play Skylander every recess and Ashe was insistent that he didn't want to join. So they each would go their separate ways. And this day, C decided that since their "hobbies" diverged away from one another, they were no longer friends. And Ashe kept silent about it all day, until he lay in bed at night, and reality came crashing down on him.

The day your child comes home and tells you he lost his good friend is going to break your heart. I like C's mom a lot, and still I felt the maternal urge to call her up at 10 pm and cry out "Your child broke my child's heart over a flipping video game!!!" It's a natural mother bear instinct to shelter your children from the harsh lessons that life has to offer, even to the six year olds, even when you know logically that the other parents have nothing to do with what transpires.

So instead, J and I sat down and brought him up to cuddle with us on the couch late at night. And we told him that we hurt with him, as we knew how good of friends the two of them had been. But then we started asking about his other friends. What about E? Or W? Tell us about them. So he did.

He told us how that very day, E had made him a paper laptop as a gift. Ashe even got a yellow bucket (le sigh) because she whispered to him during silent time what he wanted on it, and he whispered back. And how W sent him his phone number, and the two of them were excited to get together for a play date over summer vacation.

Within ten minutes, Ashe went from feeling really hurt, to realizing that he has some great friends still. And sure, they may like different things, but that doesn't mean that they can't be friends. And Ashe started to cherish what he did have, friends who liked him for who he was, not what he played.

I know over the years to come we will have similar conversations, both with Ashe and the other boys. It's a rite of passage for kids to go through it again and again. And it sucks, every time. But in the long run, I hope, that they realize that some friendships will come and go, but the true friendships will last over time, no matter what.

One Leap in Life

2013-05-30T12:16:00.001-04:00

I just returned from Xavier's fifth grade Promotion Ceremony. While the ceremony itself was cute, the implications of today are huge. In one moment, my oldest son went from being in elementary school to becoming a middle schooler.

Even if you are not a parental unit, you understand what this time in life means. Middle school is such a huge transitional period for a child, that even I as an adult, can remember my time with clarity. Middle school sucked. For me, it was probably the most awkward time of my life, likely worsened by the fact that I went to four middle schools in four years. It was a time when the chemicals in your body change drastically, throwing one into a maelstrom of drastic ups and downs. It is a time when the courses get harder, the homework longer, and grades mean more than ever before. It was a time when peers became more important than family, and peer pressure reared its ugly head. It is a time when boys notice girls, and vice versa. School dances come into play, which leads to dating, kissing, and sometimes even heavy petting.

This is the world my son is about to enter.

For now, I don't worry about how he will handle the academic pressure. Out of my three children, I think he is the one who will be able to pull through the inferno that is middle school just fine. However there is one aspect that stood out to me this morning that has me cautious. After the ceremony, I noticed that all of the kids rounded up together, horsing around and celebrating their promotion. All of the kids, except for Xavier. He hung around us parental units and the G-rents. When I encouraged him to go hang with his friends, as he only has one more day left with them, he did so, albeit reluctantly. And that's when I noticed that many of the kids kind of ignored his hello's, or rushed passed him as he tried to join the crowd. For a few minutes he tried, but I noticed that he stayed on the fringes of his classmates antics. After five minutes, he returned back to the family fold, seeming more comfortable with us than his peers.

I worry that this will be his lot in life for the next few years to come. And I don't like it. I was the girl on the fringe for a long time. I was the girl who was bypassed, uninvited to parties, and left alone. It was a horrible feeling as a kid, to not have a few friends I could call up and invite over, or to whisper silly secrets to during lunch. It was hard to go through elementary and middle school and not quite fitting in. It wasn't until high school, when I joined a vocational school for 16 towns that I finally blossomed into the sarcastic, fun loving, loud person that I am today. And part of that was because by that time, I was so used to being the new kid, that I had no issues in the beginning, where many kids had never played the role of new kid.

Maybe I am putting too much of my own history onto Xavier's back. I really hope that I am. Because if he can not come into his own in the next year or two, I know from personal experience that it is a hard road to walk. We will always be there for him. But friends are a huge part of becoming comfortable in one's skin as a teenager. With him joining a middle school that most of his elementary peers are not going to, at least he will have a fresh start to hopefully make new friends with a clean slate.

Aside from peers though, I can't even begin to explain how proud I am of Xavier and all of his accomplishments. He was given the award today of "Most Improved Student", something he absolutely deserves. And his smile lit up the room when his name was called to the front of the room to receive his award and certificate. We stopped by the middle school for an orientation the other day, and watching him walk around, looking at his new classrooms, cafeteria, and gym, I noticed that he looked like he fit right in. I hope that is true, and that his time in middle school goes much smoother for him than it did for me.

A parental unit will ALWAYS have something to worry about concerning their kids: grades, attitude, peer pressure, etc. I guess mine is to worry about Xavier and his social circle. I guess right now, if that is all I have to worry about, I'll be ok. And so will he. I mean, hey, I think I turned out ok in the long run.

Xavier and his teacher at today's reception

G-Rents

2013-05-24T09:30:00.000-04:00

Summer vacation is quickly approaching. A time in the past where I would consider stocking up on more alcohol than usual, knowing that I would have in my house 24/7 3-6 weeks, three rambunctious boys. I would frantically scrabble through my coffee drenched brain, trying to figure out how to entertain, and keep quiet, our spawns, while J would be on conference calls right below our feet. It was a time of celebration for a year completed, which lasted all of 48 hours, before the boys, having realized that they were also stuck together whether they wanted to be or not, inevitably would begin to chafe of the confinements of one another company, and the annoyance of brothers began to emerge.

That's why I would stock up on my BFF's wine and brandy. But not anymore. I have a new weapon to add to my arsenal of sanity, as of a few months ago, and this summer, I plan to use it to its fullest potential.

It's called "THE GRANDPARENTS."

After years of trying to get my mom to move to our area, this past winter she and her husband finally made it here. They now live ten minutes away, in a nice complex. Even better, they have a pool right across from their house. Even better than that? They have a place with an extra bedroom...... just for the boys.

Since the move, the grandparents want to see the boys as much as possible and vice versa, so I've been taking them over every few Friday nights, where they spend the weekend with the G-rents. I pick them up Sunday evening before school. It's been a win/win situation for everyone involved. The boys get to run crazy without having to worry about my crazed eye glare and "projecting voice" talent that I learned as a kid who was bitten by the theater bug, that seems to emerge whenever my patience tank begins to run on fumes. G-rents get to enjoy their lovely little G-kids, until they are run ragged, then get to send them home all sugared up and snickering at the thought that they have the ability to send them on their merry way without having to deal with the ramifications of children ramped up on candy. And we parental units have started to actually have some time to ourselves on go on those things we always heard about but never got a chance to try..... date nights. It's crazy!!! We actually get to go out as a husband and wife and pretend it was like 12 years ago when we didn't have kids ( or kids on the way) and we can do fun GROWN UP things! Like eat at a restaurant that doesn't offer crayons! And has real, fresh food, not frozen patties microwaved for 30 seconds and slapped on a plastic bun. It's freaking heaven!

And with summer on the way ( oh hell let's call it like it is with us living in NC, it's already summer-esque here) it's warm enough that at the G-rents place, the pool is open. With it being actually warm enough to swim in, the kids are FRANTIC to finish school and head to Camp Grammy. But eh best part is that everyone involved actually wants them to stay for at least a week. A WEEK! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?!!! It means that I, SRM, and J, get to pretend that we are grown ups without children for a full 7 days!!!! That's 168 hours. 10080 minutes. That, my friends, is insanity! In a good way!!!

But now the question is, what the hell do I do with all of that extra time?! Sleeping in is, of course, obvious. So is catching up on a few tv shows, a book or 5. But after that? If the weather holds, I'm fantasizing renting a kayak from the local park, plugging my earbuds in, and drifting on the lake solo. Maybe take a few hikes without having to worry about pacing my steps to that of a three year old. What about finding a quiet corner in Starbucks, slowing sipping my venti café mocha while I play on my laptop. Maybe even brainstorming about blog ides? Oooh! What else?! I need ideas peeps, and I need them now!

So yay to the G-rents for finally making it down here, and making everyone happy, most especially during track out vacations!

(Red) Bucket List

2013-05-20T09:30:00.000-04:00

In kindergarten, at the school my kids go to, every day Ashe comes home with a colored bucket. If he had a good day, his bucket would be colored green. If he was talked to by the teacher once or twice, it would be yellow. Red is a bad bad day. Ashe never has come home with a red bucket. Until Friday.

I received an email from his teacher around lunch time to expect a red bucket. I was appalled by her recounting of his behavior; talking loudly out of turn, being insolent and rude, and refusing to follow directions. I get we all have bad days. But this was pretty bad.

I *do* know that over the past few weeks he has been a little more belligerent at home, and we didn't know why. I do know that he casually mentioned that he's not playing with his friends at recess anymore because they are playing Skylander and he's not interested. He made it clear it doesn't bother him, but with this happening around the same time as his new 'tude, I wonder if it's actually bothering him more than he realizes.

I brought up the lack of playmates to his teacher and asked her to keep an eye out while we would deal consequences at home for his misbehavior. In the end I sat him down for a long quiet talk about his attitude lately and how we weren't mad, but very disappointed in his behavior at school. Instead of timeouts (which don't phase him in the slightest) or sending him to his room with no toys (he can keep himself entertained for hours with a rubber band) we decided that instead he would write out a letter of apology to his teacher for his actions. And he did, taking care to spell his words properly and with his best handwriting. He actually apologized to me on his own (GASP) and sad h wouldn't do it again.

We'll see how long that lasts but maybe the red bucket wasn't as bad as we though?

The Traveling Band Aid

2013-05-18T14:20:00.002-04:00

Over the past few weeks, I noticed something going on in our household. No one has loudly announced their purpose for this oddity, but I suspect it to be something of Ashe's imagination.

You see, we seem to have a traveling band aid. What I mean by this is that there is a singular band aid that is traveling from place to place in our home. One day I may wake up to find it hanging out on our island counter. A few days later I will notice it randomly placed on our living room wall.

Last night, while J and I settled down to watch TV, I noticed it hanging around near our windowsill.

I don't know what is going through the boy's minds as this poor band aid continues its travels, but it is just SO random that I can't help but chuckle every time I notice it in a new spot. I'm ok with this traveling band aid so long as it doesn't end up in my bed.

A Family Addition

2012-12-29T10:32:00.002-05:00

Xmas day was a magical day this year. It's always a magical time of year, but for 2012, it was even more so. If I were religious, I would say God had a hand in it. But instead I will just say that as the events of the day unfolded, it felt like it was meant to be.

After Xavier lost his dog, Grunther, in a tragic way, the boy was devastated. While Grunther lived at my mom's house, we still visited him often and he was a part of the family. It affected us all and left a pall around the house for weeks. The event made J and I think about Xavier, how much he has matured, and how in the next few months his life will alter as he joins the ranks of middle school. A terrifying thought on its own, but even more terrifying as the schools change constantly here, and its hard enough for Xavier to make friends. We thought long and hard and ultimately made the decision that he needed a companion, a constant friend in the midst of future chaos. Dogs are too much work for us as a family of five, so we nixed that off our list, But cats... ahh cats. They are self sufficient, easier to care for, and if you find the right one, quite affectionate. After a lot of discussions and hashing out the details on how we would work this, J and I decided that Xaviers big gift year would be for him to choose a kitten.

Well thoughts are well and good, but when it comes down to the actual event, it became more difficult than I expected. For a month before the holiday I researched constantly at adoption centers, stores, and craigslist, looking for a kitten. You would think they would be everywhere, but no. There were zero kittens in our county. Oh sure, there were 8 month old kittens. There were one year old cats. But no little kittens that could more easily adapt to a crazy household like ours. And I was adamant that we found the right one. I wouldn't settle for less.

Xmas morning came along and still no signs of kittens. Santa left Xavier all of the basics for kitten care with a note that said after that day we parental units would help him search for his new BFF. The look of awe and joy on his face is indescribable. But I worried, knowing there was no BFF out there at the time.

Usually we stay at home Xmas day and the grandparents come down to visit. But this year, my brother Brad was home from deployment, and we trekked up to his house to spend the holiday with family. While there, I mentioned the difficulty in searching for a kitten. Brad mentioned that there was a local website like craigslist, but better, and because of the amount of marines coming and going at all times, there were usually plenty of animals looking for a good home. So we popped online to look, And where in my area of the state there were no kittens to be found, in Brads area there were at least 30 seeking family.

We found a couple of promising kittens, and despite it being a holiday I took a chance and texted two people: one about a black and white tuxedo male, and another that had no photo, but advertised a gray and white female kitten. Within two minutes of texting, my phone rang. It was the owner of the female kitten.

The story goes that his family rescued a cat and then found out she was pregnant. She had five kittens. They kept two, found two others good homes, but had one more who needed a family. He would have kept her himself but they also had kids and a dog and it was too much. At 9.5 weeks, she was already litter trained, sweet as could be, great with kids and dogs, and just what we were looking for from the sound of it. Even though it was a holiday, he was willing for us to meet up as we were close by. So Brad, Xavier, and I popped into the van and headed out.

She was beautiful! Gray mask blending with white, four white socks, and dainty. The man took her out of the carrier to hand to me and she went limp, purring in my arms. The three of us immediately fell in love. And then.... she jumped.

Out of my arms she took off from 0-60 in a nanosecond, racing down a field. Brad, who was just recovering from injuries of his own, took off without a thought, racing after her. The rest of us stood there in utter shock, my heart dropping as I thought there was no way in hell he could catch her she was so damn fast. But luck was on our side as I watched both the kitten and Brad drop out of sight. There was a creek that neither of them noticed. Both fell in. While Brad was able to gain his footing, the kitten stopped dead in the water. He quickly threw his shirt over her and lunged, coming back up with a bedraggled and confused kitten.

After a lot of nervous laughter, and making sure she got into and STAYED into the box we brought, we gave our thanks for the amazing gift and went back to Brads house. The kitten hid for an hour under the couch, but soon enough was stalking around, sniffing things, and eventually allowing us to pet her. By the time we left for home, she was happily snuggled into Xavier's arms, purring away contentedly.

I've been a cat owner for most of my life. I know (and warned Xavier) that it can take days for cats to adjust and feel comfortable in their new surroundings. When J and I moved to Templeton, our two cats hid in the guest bedroom, under the covers for three days before they joined us. So we were in total awe when this tiny kitten sauntered into the house, checked the place out, and made herself cozy on the couch like she lived there her whole life. Not only that, but by morning, she was already playing with Ashe and Soren, hiding under the Xmas tree and pouncing on them as they ran by laughing hysterically. She found her way to the TV and sits there, avidly watching the boys play video games, helping out in her own way by pawing the screen on where to go. And every night, Xavier takes her upstairs to his room when he goes to bed. Each time I have gone in to check on them, he would be passed out with her cuddled right up to him, purring away.

In honor of J's favorite cat commercial, the one that makes him giggle each time it plays, we named her Bax, a shortened version of Baxter. And it fits her purrfectly. She fits us purrfectly and has already become a solid part of our family. We all fawn over her. We laugh as she attacks her scratching post. We smile as we see her perched half way up the tree, watching the boys play. We listen for the jingle of the bell on her collar and look up eagerly as she waltzes into the room. And while we have dinner, she weaves her tiny body around the legs of the chairs, meowing at us, reminding us not to forget her for a moment. Like we could ever do that. Little lady, you have each of us wrapped around your little tail.

Welcome to the family, Bax. We already love you to the moon and back.

My 2012 Photo Album

2012-12-21T10:18:00.000-05:00

Around this time every year, once the kids are passed out and I've placed a glass of wine beside me, I sit down at my computer, go through the past twelve months of photos and videos I have taken of the boys, and picked out my favorites. Then I Google for songs about kids growing up that don't include an abused home or a crappy parent, and pick one that I actually like or seems relevant. Once I have my chosen materials, I create my version of our annual photo album. I learned long ago that I suck at scrap booking, but I do love to make music videos. And this way, the boys will always be able to see their yearly album no matter where they are in the world.

This years music video was a collective work of art. Months ago J made me listen to his new favorite song, "I Have The Right" by Sonota Arctica. It's a sad, yet beautiful song of a man singing about his childhood with a neglectful parent, and claiming how children have the right to be loved, cherished, heard, and embraced. We really believed in the message of the song, but were not going to use it because the verses were very anti composers parent. Fortunately J had an idea, and with a little tinkering, was able to edit the song seamlessly.

Looking back on these photos and videos each year always reminds me of how much our family has grown. Like a flower, if you watch it all of the time, you may see tiny changes here and there, but when you watch it in time elapse it amazes you how fast such a tiny seed can change into its full glory. Creating and watching these videos is like the same thing to me. This time last year, Soren was only talking in Sorenese. Today, he's a nonstop chatterbox and fully understandable to everyone, not just close friends. Ashe has embraced school and is living large in kindergarten. He can now say his L perfectly, something he couldn't do a year ago. Xavier has grown up into an amazing young person that I am honored to know. He has matured so much in the past six months, and I can glimpse more often than not, the young man he will become. In only half a year, a blink of an eye, he will enter Junior High, something I do not think I am nearly ready for. But he is.

So without further ado, here is my annual scrapbook for the year 2012 of the boys. I hope that your year was as amazing as ours has been.

Change

2012-12-17T09:30:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago our family dealt with a loss that devastated the boys, most especially Xavier. Our pug, Grunther, passed away unexpectedly and tragically, after being attacked by my brothers dog. Grunther was Xavier's dog, which we got him when he was two and he asked for a little brother. They were the best of buddies for years, until one fateful day, after being sick, Grunther bit baby Ashe on the cheek. I have a no bite rule in the house, and we were forced to remove him from our home for the safety of the baby (despite it being a one time deal and Grunther had been an amazing dog prior I wasn't taking chances), but my mom offered to take him in so that the kids could still see him when we went to visit.

Grunther lived a long and happy life, and was cherished by the boys and us adults. His death seemed like major karma in how he went, as my brothers dog is also sweet and never bit anyone until that one day.

They day I found out, I waited in dread for the school bus to drop Xavier off because I know he was going to take the news hard. And he did. We spent hours in his room as I held him while he sobbed until he passed out exhausted. It took him weeks to recover back to his normal happy self, and even now, a month later, a shadow of mourning will cross his face, and he will grow pensive as he remembers his faithful puppy.

Which got me thinking:

With ADHD, Xavier sometimes has a hard time developing lasting friendships outside of the gaming world. He has a couple of friends, one who has been his best friend for three years, but even then, they rarely hang out outside of school. Maybe it's due to his friends having crazy tiger mom schedules where they are doing seven different activities a week. Maybe not. I don't know. But I do know that for a kid like Xavier, he needs someone (aside from us family members) who will always be there for him and love him unconditionally. And with middle school right around the corner, where kids can be assholes to the nth degree, and I worry about him fitting in, that need will be even more evident.

While J and I are not dog people, we talked about these issues and agreed that Xavier would really benefit from some sort of relationship with a pet. We just needed time to think. So we did.

With Christmas around the corner, the boys are excited about Santa (yes, my kids still strongly believe and I intend to keep it that way for as long as possible). Ashe and Soren have teamed up together to ask Santa for a Wii U. Xavier has asked for a $300 nerf gun, which I promptly told him that even Santa can't always work those kind of miracles. Fortunately we have taught our kids that Santa does not always bring you what you ask for. He gives each gift great thought before giving the "perfect" gift for each child.

And with that in mind, "Santa" has finally figured out the perfect gift for Xavier. J and I have decided that, under the tree will be a kitty carrier with a stuffed kitten and a note, explaining that Santa and parental units have been in touch, and we all agreed that it is time for Xavier to find a companion, a kitten, to love and cherish and take care of. We'll spend the following week searching stores, shelters, etc, and let Xavier choose.

While we mourn the loss and love of our Grunther, I think this will be a way for Xavier's heart to begin to heal, while also giving him a companion that is not mom and dad, whom he can spill his heart to without reservation in the years to come.

I think this will be a wonderful Christmas for the boys. And for us.

Happy Sixth, Ashe!

2012-12-12T11:38:00.002-05:00

In less than one hour, six years ago, my second child Ashe, came racing into this world. And when I say racing, I'm not dicking around or using hyperbole. That kid wanted to join the world so bad that he was almost born in the car in a five minute drive from home to the hospital. Because of him, I decided that Soren would be home birthed. I did not fancy the idea of keeping a newborns head warm with a McDonald's cup or try to tie off the umbilical cord with a shoe string.

Fast forward to now and my boy is still going fast. We've yet to establish into his brain what a "normal" voice volume is. Everything he says is at volume 11. On the flip side, he is racing through school, feasting on all of the knowledge his teacher can throw at him. He is acing math and reading. After years of worrying about his inability to produce the sounds L and R, he is enunciating them clearly, a feat of which I am so proud for him. And as a gamer family, he is coming into his own and kicking arse on any game you put into his hands.

Ashe has grown up so much over the past year. While he is still a child that has nightmares about missing Lego's (like last night), or cries uncontrollably when he gets a skinned knee, he has blossomed so much into an amazing youth full of life, personality, and love of all things. I am so excited to see what he jumps into over the next year. I just hope that this year he will learn what an indoor voice is.
Happy birthday love!

Diet Diary: Week One

2012-10-23T18:32:00.001-04:00

Like the multitude of ants I kill trying to infiltrate my house for sustenance, I find myself constantly trying to find a solution to my weight. Now knowing that I have hypothyroidism, I at least have a sense of peace as to why I gained so much weight so quickly. That does not mean I have to lie down and accept that my pant size has grown by three sizes. Oh hell no, I refuse to go down ( or up ) without a fight.

I've tried cutting calories. No go. I've tried a liquid diet. Nothing. I've tried intense workouts five times a week. While my stamina is much better and I can Zumba anyones pants off, my scale still laughs at me. Bastard. I've tried a bunch of things that haven't worked, even with my new thyroid medicine ( granted its still new and I'm sure will need adjusting at some level, but I'm an impatient bitch).

But recently I found something new that actually seems medically logical to work. I'm not here to advertise it, so if you want more info, you can email me. But the logic behind this plan seems, well, logical. It's a plan that combines a lot of things both J and I have heard over the years to help with healthy weight loss and a healthy lifestyle all wrapped into one.

Essentially, it states that most of the food we eat nowadays is filled with high fructose corn syrup, and other fatty things, that are hard for your liver and colon to digest. Because of this, over time, your body stores a lot of fat that it can't deal with, because the liver and colon start to get clogged and can't keep up. Or something like that. Bear with me, I'm working on the barest of caffeine here.

So in order to effectively lose weight and get healthy, you have to clean out your liver and colon first. Once that is done, you then work on eating organic foods, or foods without the additives, with cheat days built in so you can still eat yummy, fat inducing foods once in awhile.

There are three phases: raw diet, cleanse, and undiet. Phase one takes two weeks. Phase two will take three days, and phase three is for six months, or however longer you wish to continue.

This is a seriously hardcore, life changing thing to try, so J was kind enough to do it with me. Without him, I probably would have fallen off the bandwagon after day one. It involves multiple trips to the health food stores, trying new things, and being mentally strong enough to not nibble at the boys hamburgers while we sit there and crunch on radishes.

I waited to blog about this until we had gotten halfway through Phase One to see if it was something we could stick with, and if it was even worth blogging about. We hit our halfway mark this morning with decent results ( and no cheating!!!) so here is what we've been doing.

Phase One is a vegan raw diet, only we can not have grains of any kind. All we are allowed to eat for two weeks are organic veggies, fruits, nuts, and cooked beans from scratch. No dairy, no grains, nothing cooked ( except our beans ). No coffee, no alcohol, no salad dressing, unless we concoct our own using the only two oils allowed, extra virgin olive, and coconut oil.

We can eat as much as we want of these things, while drinking water and herbal tea. It sounds simple. It is simple. But after the excitement of trying something new wears off, roughly five hours and your stomach is yelling at you, it gets boring. REALLY boring. Despite the plethora of fruits and veggies out there, there is only so much you can do with them without using your stove. I love love love asparagus on a regular day, but I refuse to eat them raw. And broccoli without dressing dip? Thanks, but I'm all set. For the last few days I've been living off clementines, walnuts, spinach leaves, and beans. Breakfast? Usually a cup of beans with a touch of garlic powder and pepper, a water bottle of filtered water, nuts, and a teeny tiny clementine. You know, the ones you feed to dolls when you play house. Lunch is a salad with homemade dressing. Dinner is a handful of apricots, maybe some beans thrown in if I'm starving.

It's not pretty folks.

It's a war tactic to force your body into shock, while at the same time trying to rewire your brain into the belief that 14 bean soup is as yummy as your chocolate stash when you have Aunt Flo coming to visit in the next day or two. Waterboarding has nothing on this diet in regards to torture.

The first four days were excruciating. All I fantasized about was fried chicken, and I dreamt of cheeseburgers floating into my mouth, while fries danced on the sidelines, whipping their starched hair in fountains of soda. The headaches from lack of caffeine were killer, as was my mood. I had zero tolerance for rough housing mornings without my cup of coffee. But the worst was when we went to a Trunk or Treat and our favorite, mouth watering butcher shop was there, offering freebies of the steak tips my whole family would kill over. Right off the fucking grill. It was devastating to watch the boys down their juicy tender hunks of perfectly grilled meat and we couldn't even have a nibble. It took all the will power we parental units had to not cheat and quietly scarf that last piece of perfect beef that Soren decided he didn't want to finish.

However, I knew I hit a mental mile mark the other day, as I was cooking up Hamburger Helper for the boys. As I started browning the meat, I noticed my nose wrinkling at the smell wafting towards me. By the time I was stirring the faux cheese and milk into noodles and burger, I was quite nauseous. I came to the conclusion, as I stood there, arms out as far as I could go and still stir the concoction, that I would probably never view Hamburger Helper the same way again, let alone eat it. The situation reminded me of when I was pregnant and couldn't deal with certain odors.

And the other bonus was that I got to measure myself last night, after a week of food hell, and lost both an inch in my waist and chest, but also five pounds. Not too shabby for only a week. It was at least enough incentive for me to continue on this journey.

I'll keep an update going on my progress. I've got one more week on this raw diet before I do the next phase: The Cleanse.

Ooof.

Family Wedding Escapades

2012-10-17T13:57:00.001-04:00

To all you bloggers it there: do you ever find yourself wishing for some new technology in which you could place a sensor on your temple that would record your thoughts and place them on a word document that you could retrieve later to help you write? I swear I get my best blogging tidbits when I'm heading to sleep, can write some of the most humerous quotes ever (in my insomniac mind at least ) but wake up and can't remember shit.

You techies out there, chop chop.

J and I had quite the interesting weekend. We had a family wedding to go to in the freezing corner of the country ( also known as Michigan ). What made it SRM worthy of being titled interesting was a couple of factors. The first being that I was going to see family members I haven't seen since I was eight years old. I was very excited to see my cousin Michael, who was the first to teach me how to play Simon. The ORIGINAL Simon.

Oh yeah baby. My first intro to gaming.

Second, my brother and I were going to see our father, with whom we do not really get along with. Ok not quite accurate. If he wasn't our father, I think we'd get along with him pretty well. We all have a very similar and quirky sense of humor. But he was a craptastic father in every sense of the word. Still is. I haven't seen my father in over seven years, when my grandfather died, and one of my aunts insisted that I have three year old Xavier call my father Grampa. As far as I'm concerned, that's a title you earn, not automatically get by having unprotected sex. The kids have a grandfather thankyouverymuch.

With that in mind, adding into the equation a lot of pent up anger on my brothers end, vast quantities of alcohol, and the fact we Barans (my maiden name) are all obnoxious, equated to the possibility of an interesting weekend.

Last, but definitely not least, was the fact that while J and I have been together for 16 years, married for 13, no one on my fathers side of the family, aside from my cousin getting married and her twin sister, have ever met J. If you know one thing about me by now it's that I say what I want to say. That rings true for everyone who has Baran blood. We're all loud, social, and say what's on our mind. Annnnd, if you know J by now through my blogs, you know that he is as anti social and introverted as you can get. He hates being the center of attention, he hates small talk, he hates being surrounded by strangers.

This was going to be fun. For me, at least.

Because so much happened over the weekend I'm going to streamline it and add fun photos so that you, my fine readers, don't fall asleep while reading. Ready? WAKE UP!!! Ok, now are we ready? Good. Here's the recap:

Friday Night:
After two 30 minute delays for our flights from Raleigh to Detroit (and by the way may I just say that I hate US Airs? I am so spoiled using Jet Blue for my travels) and stuck in stop and go traffic for a good hour, J and I arrive to our destination, the Bavarian Inn Lodge, located in Frankenmuth.

Think of a town that is modeled after mini Germany, and that's where we stayed. After dropping off luggage and freshening up, we headed to the Brewery where the rehearsal dinner was at for my first glimpse of the Baran family all together under one roof in over 20 years.

As we walked in, we were surrounded by cousins, aunts, uncles, etc, whom many I have not seen since before I had braces (or went through puberty for that matter) and J never met at all. The most common comment we received was that it was good to see that J was in fact, a real live person. It made me wonder if anyone had ever tried to pass off a blow up doll as a spouse. In my family, I wouldn't have been surprised.

My father stayed off to the sidelines, but even surrounded by multitudes of people, J looked me in the eye after he caught sight of my paternal parental unit. I stopped by to introduce the two of them while stifling a giggle.

My father was dressed as a pirate.

Can't make this shit up folks. Blowing blouse open down to mid chest with golden necklaces and black breeches, my father and husband finally met. A few drinks later, while tucked away in cozy quiet corner, J turned to me and whispered " I think I finally get you now." Thanks love. Kiss kiss.

Photo rendition of my father

Following the rehearsal dinner we headed up to someones room for an after party, which consisted of a lot of alcohol, my father pulling out a guitar and singing about vampires, and a lot of partying.

Saturday:

J and I hit Oma's Restaurant for home made German food for breakfast. While there, many of our family members wandered in looking bright and shiny eyed, with no traces of hang overs. I think I get that one particular trait from them, as it's rare I get a hang over. Yay! I found out that we left the after party a bit too soon, as my brother and father headed to the Fun Room, and proceeded to challenge one another in fighting a punching bag. From what I gathered, both of them lost. I would have paid mad money to see that happen.

We stopped by the local village shops to find souvenirs for the boys, grabbed some coffee with Baily's from the Gift Shop ( all gift shops should offer coffee with Baily's) hung out with some cousins, then got ready for the wedding.

My cousin Michael (the one who taught me Simon) officiated over the wedding for my cousin Emily. He started out with the familiar marriage quote from Princess Bride:

Can I just offer props to him for getting that accent down absolutely perfect. I wondered how long it took him to practice in front of a mirror.

After asking the groom if he knew he was marrying a Baran and would entertain the crowd for a bit if he wished to reconsider this ultimate decision, and after Emily growled out through clenched teeth that she would "submit" to her husband, the two love birds were finally hitched and we celebrated.

Congratulations Emily and Kevin!

Try and imagine me, multiplied by 20, partying in a giant room ready to celebrate a very happy occasion. Try and imagine 20 of me, with loud music and a big dance floor. Try and imagine 20 of me surrounded by free alcohol.

Now you can get a clear idea of what the reception was like. Surrounded by spouses and other stranger people who do not share our genetics, my family ripped up the dance floor, turned the wet bar into a desert, and had a ball. My father even dressed in a seventies tux, to which my brother and I asked if it was the same one he married our mother in. He couldn't recall. And we didn't stop partying when the reception was done. Oh no. We headed up to my brothers room to continue the party.

I stole my brothers Marine hat. He kept leaving the damn thing on my chair.

J and I were headed there ourselves except we ran into a tiny snafu. While I went outside to have a quick smoke, J ran to our hotel room and somehow found himself locked in the bathroom. I got a phone call from him, asking to grab the hotel staff. Of course the first thing I ask is if he tried the door handle. because yes, we were THAT drunk. He had.

30 minutes later, we've got an impromptu party down in our room, drinking alcohol and cheering on the maintenance guy while he tries to rescue my husband. My brother, hosting the after party, left his party to come down and support J, while also trying to get the hotel staff to let us have the door knob as a souvenir. They politely declined, but once J was safe (huzzah!) they did give us a bottle of champagne. Which we took to the after party and celebrated until dawn. Or 3 am. I lost track of time.

And that, my friends, was our crazy family wedding weekend.

One cool thing that came out of this crazy ass weekend was that we of the younger generation realized that seeing one another every few decades kind of sucks. We've only gotten together for weddings or funerals. unfortunately by now, everyone is hitched, and we'd rather not wait for someone to kick it. So instead of waiting for one of those occasions to happen, we proposed a family reunion. Since we all live scattered across the country, from San Fran, Denver, Detroit, Omaha, and here in Raleigh, we're setting it for 2014 so everyone can get their finances in order. It should be interesting to see if we actually get off our asses and do this. I'd love to sit on the beach surrounded by my crazy family, drinking margaritas while the kids bury my father under the sand.

SRM Promotion for ADHD Product

2012-10-12T08:27:00.000-04:00

I don't normally do these types of blogs but today I am going to make an exception. Two months ago, I was approached by Ben Caron, son of Dr. Caron, a psychologist who specializes in ADHD. Since I have blogged about Xavier and our issues with his ADHD, he asked if I would be interested in reviewing and discussing a product of theirs, which is an informational video that helps parents and children to understand ADHD, and offer tips to help out.

I couldn't refuse because ADHD is a big part of our daily life and I know how difficult it can be when raising a child with it, not to mention suffering it myself. I remember how many questions we had about ADHD, and how we still have hard days, even after working together as a team for over five years. So I agreed to check it out before I blogged about it.

Of course life takes over, and when raising three kids, it gets pushed back longer than you hope for. But. Now, with the two bus at school and things are starting to get back to "normal" I can sit down and tell you about this product.

The only reason I am blogging about it is because frankly, I loved it. When it arrived in the mail and I saw the front, bearing Dr. Caron hanging out with a wooden marionette, I admit, I started second guessing this idea. I hate clowns and puppets. Hate them. They give me shivers and make me want to look over my shoulder. So realizing I was going to have to sit down and watch an hour long video with talking marionettes made me long for a bottle of wine to calm down my crawling skin.

So for me to say that I love this video, despite marionettes is saying a lot.

I would recommend this product to any family who is either already dealing with ADHD in their family, has just gotten the diagnosis, or even thinks that ADHD is a strong possibility. This video starts out by discussing exactly what ADHD is, clearing up a lot of popular misconceptions, with very clear examples to make it easy to understand. All done without feeling that you are being talked down to.

It goes through all of the different options to help your child live with ADHD, including the option of medication. I really appreciated how this articulate segment was written, as I know that one of the biggest hurdles we parents face when learning about options is whether or not to use medication as a way to help ADHD. I remember when that was brought up to me after learning about Xavier, and feeling like a failed parent. That was NOT the case as I now know, years later and more knowledgeable. But this video really helps to explain all of it to parents new to dealing with ADHD.

Aside from the information available to parents, this video talks to the children themselves. It has segments specifically for kids to watch, and they follow the story of Elwood, a nine year old marionette, who learns that he has ADHD. Kids can watch and relate to Elwood, as he and Dr. C. Learn about ADHD, and different tricks and tips to help Elwood deal with it both at school and at home. Using catchy songs, and word play, Dr. C. makes it easy for even young kids to learn along with Elwood.

Even as a parent who has been dealing with ADHD for years, I was still able to pick up some tricks that have worked when implemented with Xavier.

If you are a parent who is interested in this video, check the top of my blog for a link to the product. I will be promoting this video for the next six months.

Thank you Ben, and Dr. C. for bringing this informational video to my attention. We at the SRM household did appreciate it. Even with the dreaded marionettes. If you are interested in more information, check out the graphic link on the top right side of my blog.

Parental Crafting Emergency

2012-10-10T09:00:00.000-04:00

As most of you know, Ashe is obsessed with the Legend Of Zelda. Halloween is fast approaching, and he has delighted me in choosing once again to be Link for that fabulous holiday. Well I was pleased, until Ashe accidentally left his Link hat at the hospital. Then I panicked.

It took me ages of searching for a Link outfit last year. It's not like they have them in the stores, and most of the ones I found on eBay were made for cosplaying adults that cost hundreds of dollars. So to lose a vital piece of his outfit is a huge huge deal.

We all know I suck at crafts, but lately I have been on a Pintrest binge, ever since J mentioned that we might, just might, be able to look at purchasing a real honest to goodness home next year instead of renting. I nearly fainted with joy at that proclamation. And while I look for things I want to implement in our new future fantasy home, I also started looking at DIY crafts. I even went out and purchased a bunch of craft things to make some crafts. So I may suck at them, but I am enjoying this new, domestic aspect I'm linking into.

So when Ashe lost his hat, instead of frantically searching yet again on eBay for one that would fit him, I decided to try to make him one myself. Even though I don't own a sewing machine. Even though the last lesson I had in sewing was in first grade. Even though I still have clear memories of trying to make the kids stuffed animals by hand.

Call me optimistic. Delusional fits too.

With Ashes costume in hand, we headed to the local fabric store in search of the perfect green material. We were fortunate to find a near identical match that didn't break the bank. At home, I measured Ashes head with tape. I know some of you crafty parental units are sucking in their breath right now thinking "oh no she didn't!" Oh yes, I did. Phbhbhbhbhbhbhbt.

I free handed the pattern (OH YES I DID!!!) with a sharpie and cut out the two pieces. And with thread and needle, I got down to business. I stitched that thing to the best of my six year old knowledge and it took a total of three hours. And you know what? It looked awesome!

My leet hand sewing skills

It was tight stitched with no gaps, and looked just like his old hat. I was so impressed while also realizing that if I knew how to use a sewing machine it would have taken me five minutes instead of three hours that I am contemplating the purchase of one. Not that I know how to use one. But I could maybe learn?

Sarcastic Saturday

2012-10-06T10:00:00.000-04:00

With my favorite holiday approaching, I am dedicating all of this months Sarcastic Saturdays to Halloween. Mainly funny costumes, both for adults and kids. Some this month may be NSFW so open at your own discretion this month. Hopefully most of you don't work on Saturdays anyways. If for some reason you do, that sucks. Tell your boss I said to bite me. S/he can come here to bitch at me if they feel the desire to. It will amuse me =)

The Bet

2012-10-04T09:00:00.000-04:00

I'm not one to normally egg on people to bet, especially my kids, but we had a situation occur the other week, in which I think I taught my kids that betting was cool. I'm not sure if I am going to regret this in the future or not. However, it was just too good to pass up.

It was the boys first day of track out, and we decided to hop in the car and drive to Grammys house for the day. It was a gorgeous day and I did something that pissed the kids off. I forced them to play outside all day.

After a bit of bickering, Ashe and Soren set themselves up in the mini pool, and we adults pulled up lawn chairs in the backyard. Xavier, feeling too old for the kiddie pool, moodily joined the adults, which included myself, my mom, her husband, and my brother, fondly known as Uncle Brad.

Uncle Brad is in the marines and its a rare treat to have him home on a weekday where the kids can see him. He took the boys on lawn mower rides, and while the younger boys were "swimming" started up a conversation with Xavier about games.

I sat there with my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of sun on my skin, when I realized that the conversation started to sound a little heated. I perked up to listen in.

Now you have to understand that the gene of stubbornness runs rampant in my family. I blame my paternal grandfather who was the most stubborn asshole to ever live on this earth. He was an amazing man, but definitely a stubborn asshole. My brother and I received this gene, along with many aunts, uncles, and cousins. I of course, passed this gene down to my boys. All of them.

So when I started paying attention to the conversation, it came down to the fact that Xavier was insistent that his favorite online game, Minecraft, has only been out since the year 2010, whereas my stubborn brother insisted that he played Minecraft when he was Xavier's age. Neither was willing to give in.

With the absolute belief he was totally in the right, Uncle Brad, in a pique of inspiration blurted out "Fine! Lets make a bet. If I am right, you have to give me back my lawn chair (which Xavier had stolen because it was the best chair out there when Uncle Brad went to get a refill on his drink.) and if you win, I will give you my change bag."

Uncle Brads change bag is no laughing matter. Every night he cleans out his pockets and puts all of his change into a Crown Royal bag. It hasn't been cleared up in months. That sucker must have weighed a good five pounds. Knowing this bet was going to go down whether I approved or not, I decided to be Xavier's mentor in this matter.

"Take the bet, Zavi."

"But that's not a good deal!"

"Trust me, kid, it's a great deal. Take the bet."

So he did. And thank goodness for phones with Internet service because I quickly googled for the answer, and waited patiently until everyone was satisfied with the terms of the bet. Once everyone was happy and waiting for the answer I read it out loud.

The creator of Minecraft started it in the year 2009 and it was released in 2010.

"BOOYAH!" Xavier yelled, and jumped up to do the happy dance. Brad looked flabbergasted as he looked at me and said "I swear I played that game when I was a kid."

I looked at him and asked "Did you maybe mean the game Minesweeper?" And a look of horror passed over his face as Brad realized his mistake.

But he was a good sportsman, and the two of the trooped into the house to get Xavier's prize.

We still haven't finished counting out all of the coins, but we do know that there is at least $25 in quarters alone. I keep telling Xavier we should take the money to Coin Star and take a photo of him and the final tally and send it to Uncle Brad.