Figuring out what I wanna be when I grow up.
Oop..I AM grown up...

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Timely photos, just for you

Hey everyone!  Phew!  I've been super biz-ay lately.

I thought I'd share some photies from my private collection--just for you.  I know, I know--you never knew you were dealing with a STAR.  It's okay.  I'm very down-to-earth.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Fifty Shades Of...

"Hey..." he murmured
"What?" she muttered.
"She's going to talk about the book," he breathed.
"Holy Shit!  Holy cow! Wow! OH MY!"

Wow!  Oh my!  HOLY CRAP!  It's finally time to talk about THAT BOOK!  My CONSCIOUS SUBCONSCIOUS has been tormented for days, and is PLEADING WITH ME to not cave in with everyone else, and give this any more attention than it's already received.  My INNER GODDESS KAREN is rubbing her hands together with glee because she can't wait to ROAST THIS MOFO.

People, I have been struggling.  STRUGGLING through this book.  This is the book that everyone is talking about lately. Haven't you heard of it by now?  Don't you know someone who has a friend who read it? Have you read it yourself?  Do you FREAKING LURV IT?  Do you have wild fantasies of CHRISTIAN GREY?

Well, we're just going to have to have a little chat, everyone.  You know you want to.

First of all, let me just say a few things about ME.  I loves me some smut.  I love a cheap, tawdry fluffy book. I also love some "Young Adult" literature.  Every summer I enjoy some light, no-brain-required "poolside reading," as I like to call it.  Hell--you know I LURV some Twilight!  Yeah, I liked those books--those melodramatic, HIGHSCHOOL DRAMA, HYPERBOLIC LOVE books.  So, I'm not here to be all SNOOT and say that if it's not written by one of the Bronte sister's, it's garbage..

No.  But I don't like this book.  I was all set to enjoy it, even though my sister didn't like it.  I thought hey--I have NO problem with fluffy candy books.  Bring it on!  But, I just couldn't get into it.  I'm trying to pinpoint WHY, but there apparently are too many reasons.

1. Fifty Shades of Twilight

Yeah, that's right. I'm saying it.

You know what I think?  I think that the author of the Grey trilogy read the Twilight books, and was as irritated as the rest of us that it took, like 5 books (how many are in the Twilight Series???) for Bella and Edward to GET IT ON.  So, she took Bella and Edward, and just switcheroo-ed the names to Anastasia Steele, and Christian Grey.

* Edward has auburn-y hair.  That's funny, so does Christian Grey.

* Bella is super clumsy.  Gee, whattaya know--so is Anastasia.

* Edward is stinking filthy rich.  So is Christian.

* Bella HATES it when Christian...oop...I mean Edward buys her expensive gifts, and so does Anastasia.

* Bella has a dark haired, happy, goofball friend named Jacob who is a different ethnicity from her, and HAPPENS to be in love with her.  Anastasia has a goofball Hispanic friend named José who is in love with her.

* Bella chose not to live with her dipsy flake of a mother who is remarried, and chose to live with her gruff, few-words father.

* Anastasia chose not to live with her dipsy flake of a mother who is remarried, and chose to live instead with her gruff, few-words STEP-father (ooo...clever adjustment).

* Edward/Christian are super refined, with unruly hair, and both play the piano, and love all music from classical to modern pop.  And do I really have to point out how both guys have deep, dark secrets?  Pppffft...

Yeah.  I could go on and on.  I'm telling you, the author of Grey got sick and tired of the c*ck-tease that was the Twilight Saga (waaa!  We can't DO IT UNTIL WE'RE MARRIED!  BOOO!), and decided to KICK IT UP A FEW NOTCHES.

which leads me to...

2. Fifty Shades Of Cheese


Okay, from the moment the clumsy, and COMPLETELY UN-SEXY Anastasia Steele, literally tumbles into CEO Christian Grey's office, they're unbelievably horny for each other, and spend a great deal of time GETTING IT ON.

And, that's basically the book.  The End.  You're welcome, you no longer have to read it.

OH BUT WAIT! There's a twist!  Christian is SUPER MESSED UP and only really gets turned on by S&M, or BDSM, and maybe even PB&J (we don't know--it doesn't say).  It's the only way he knows how to show love because BIG SURPRISE...DUM, DUM, DUUUUUUM...SOMETHING traumatic happened in his childhood.

Gee, are we retarded?  Have we all not figured out he was abused?  Do we care?


So, he wants this dope Anastasia to sign his contract to become his SUBMISSIVE and...and she can't help herself because he is so gorgeous..yes, he's messed up, but he's so freaking HOT and she's already feeling that delicious sensation in her nether regions, and oh, he barely has to touch her and she feels the quickening, and she's BITING HER LIP, ANASTASIA, STOP BITING YOUR LIP, YOU KNOW WHAT THAT DOES TO ME AND I WANT TO TAKE YOU OVER MY KNEE AND SPANK YOU, BUT WHAT I REALLY WANT TO DO IS TIE YOU UP AND TAKE THIS PADDLE TO YOU...OR MAYBE THIS PADDLE BECAUSE I HAVE ALL KINDS OF DIFFERENT THINGS TO WHACK YOU WITH AND...

you know, right there they lost me?  Yeah.  It's so over the top.  I mean, I've already said it. I love smut. I LURV IT, but I do not feel a damn thing about bondage and doms and subs and being a "yes sir" kind of girl.  It's so ridiculous.  It's like the author said; " can I make Bella and Edward..erm, I mean, Ana and Christian REALLY shocking?!?"

Oh, and in the meantime, in the parts in which they're not having a zillion BIG O'S, there is NOTHING going on, people.  Nada.  Zip.  But I'll get to that in the next part.

But Anastasia is persistent!  She wants to know why Christian is so messed up!  Why he WON'T LET HER TOUCH HIS CHEST EVER (gay), and why he's so reluctant to become (normal) the loving man she truly wants!  And then Christian tells her, one night before they fall asleep.



Give me a break.

A CRACK WHORE?  Seriously?  I actually snorted when I read that.  I mean, come on.  A "crack whore."  No, his mother wasn't just a prostitute, because apparently that's not enough hardship.  Nope.  She was HOOKING for CRACK.  Nay!  She was WHORING for CRACK!

Seriously?  Is there really such a thing as a crack whore, or isn't that just the punchline in about a zillion jokes????

I roll my eyes at this.

I have decided that Christian and Ana are like those obnoxious friends one has who make out furiously all the time in front of anyone, and it's revolting, and totally embarrassing.

And can she stop biting her lip?  Seriously.  It sounds fairly OCD to me.

I could think of all kinds more to bitch about, but let's move along to

3. Fifty Shades Of Bad Writing

Oh my!  Wow!  Holy cow! Holy crap! Holy shit!  SHE murmured.  HE muttered.  She breathed.  HE murmured.  SHE muttered.  HE breathed.  OH my! WOW! HOLY COW!  HOLY CRAP! HOLY SHIT!

Oh my!  Wow!  Holy cow! Holy crap! Holy shit!  SHE murmured.  HE muttered.  She breathed.  HE murmured.  SHE muttered.  HE breathed.  OH my! WOW! HOLY COW!  HOLY CRAP! HOLY SHIT!  

Oh my!  Wow!  Holy cow! Holy crap! Holy shit!  SHE murmured.  HE muttered.  She breathed.  HE murmured.  SHE muttered.  HE breathed.  OH my! WOW! HOLY COW!  HOLY CRAP! HOLY SHIT!  

Oh my!  Wow!  Holy cow! Holy crap! Holy shit!  SHE murmured.  HE muttered.  She breathed.  HE murmured.  SHE muttered.  HE breathed.  OH my! WOW! HOLY COW!  HOLY CRAP! HOLY SHIT!  

Get the picture?

I have to say, the character of Christian Grey is interesting. He is intriguing.  Sometimes I kind of like the dialogue between them, when they're NOT boning.  But the damn repetition makes me want to cry.  And GRAMMAR NERD KAREN, unfortunately gets stuck on sentences that read similarly to this:

"He unbuttoned his jeans, and slid his jeans down his legs."  Yes, we get it.  His JEANS.

How many times can I read that his pants hung off his hips in that sexy way?  Or that his hair was unruly?

The character of Anastasia though?  She's not sexy at all!!!  Just because the book tells us that she's BEAUTIFUL?  BIG WHOOP! I need more!  She's not interesting, but this is typical for any of these books in which the story is clearly all about the enigmatic dude.  The girl is always just a one dimensional paper cutout ~ wallpaper, if you will.

This book actually made me sick of the sexy bits.  At around page 300, I started to get into it--the book, not the sexy bits.  Just as some of the story was getting good, then they're all looking at each other with scorching eyes again, and I wanted to scream "OH COME ON!"

Maybe my biggest problem with this book, is that it's basically a teenager book trying to masquerade as ADULT fiction.  I mean, The Twilight books never pretended to be something else.  SNIFF!

But you know what?  Kudos to the author, because tons and tons and tons of hor-nay women super LURV this book.  I mean, they're freaking for it, so she did something right.

Hey, I was inspired to make this ridiculous little movie, just because I love you guys.  Here, enjoy.

Oh hell--let's do one more

4. Fifty Shades of Jamie Fraser

People, all I can say is if you think Christian Grey is truly hot--unbelievably hot, you have NOT become acquainted with JAMIE MUTHAF*CKIN' FRASER.

Seriously people.  If you want titillation, you
NEED to read this book.  Granted Ms. Gabaldon is
descriptive to the point where it probably
will make you cry, but no matter because

Now THAT is a fictitious man who will make your toes curl and your blood boil. So, after meeting Jamie Fraser, the manicured, long fingered, muttering, murmuring Christian Grey did NOT turn my crank.

Nuff said.


Monday, July 23, 2012

Autism Camp: As Much Fun As A Punch In The Back

Ah Autism Camp...

I'm so happy YOU ARE DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There.  I think that's enough exclamation points.

I had a lot of anxiety over sending Jack to camp.  I whined it out here, and here.  Sure, I had the usual MOMMY-CAN'T-SEPARATE-FROM-HER-WIDDLE-JACKY-KINS kind of angst, but I was also super stressed on Jack's behalf, because I knew that he would not be pleased about going, and he probably wouldn't love it while he was there, thanks to having inherited my MALCONTENT  GENE.


I had this bright shiny hope that Jack would be in a nice, judgement-free environment, with other little quirky dudes just like him.  I imagined that there would maybe be a kid who knew all the classical composers, or who wanted to talk about the Bolsheviks , or have a really good convo about Gerry And The Pacemakers, or The Who.

What if Jack had met a little guy who said; "I draw all day long too!!"  What if he had met someone who was equally as nervous as he was?  What if he met someone who had to jerk his body uncontrollably when he was really stressed or really tired?  WHAT IF THERE WAS A WHOLE GROUP OF KIDS WHO DIDN'T GET ANNOYED AT JACK?!?

Waaaait a minute...

Am I an idiot?  Did I forget what high functioning Spectrum/Aspergers  kids are like?!?  They might be among THE most intolerant kids on the planet!  Okay, that's a fairly hyperbolic statement, but seriously!  Do these kids have an abundance of PATIENCE?  UH, NO!  And, are they not renowned for their great lack of empathy?  What the hell was I thinking?!?

The first day of camp was really bad. It was a big transition for Jack. It was new and frightening.  The afternoon swimming session, he told me, gave him a headache.  In the evening he was so tired out and distressed and filled with despair that I felt awful for him.  He had so much anger.  A boy in camp, Jack told me with great interest, had "body contact" with one of the counselors.  This means the kid was having a meltdown, and trying to beat the shit out of the counselor.

Okay, this was a good learning lesson.  See, Jack?  There are other kids who feel as frustrated as you do sometimes, right buddy?  However, it was fascinating and horrifying to Jack, because while he freaks out on his family, he never does in a public setting, or on a stranger. Plus, he's really big on THE RULES.

Tuesday was much better.  I think Monday was hard because it was new, and then Tuesday was good because I felt that Jack had had a real sense of accomplishment.  He'd conquered two whole days of camp.  After dinner, we went swimming at my sister's.  On the way back to our house, Jack told me that the same boy who had freaked on Monday, punched him in the back on Tuesday.

My immediate reactions were horror and anger.  That protective mother thing reared up, and I was all ready to march into camp the next day and bitch someone out for not letting me know this.  Jack had simply been thinking of something funny that had happened at home, and chuckling quietly.  This kid got a look of rage on his face, hauled off and socked Jack in the back.  Just let ME get my hands on this little shit and...


Waaaait a minute, karen.  Remember which kids are in this camp?  Yeah.  The frustrated, intolerant ones.  You know how you're always hoping for empathy and understanding for your OWN kid?  Yeah.  Remember that, because that little guy at camp probably has some big stumbling blocks he has to deal with every day.

So, I gave Jack some tips on how to deal with anger like that.  I told him he should tell the kid to calm down, and they'd try again.  You know--talk it out.  If that didn't work, I told him to stay away from him, and if that didn't work, he had to tell his counselor, though he probably should let her know anyway.

The next days were hard.  It was incredibly hot out.  While they went swimming every afternoon, the mornings were filled with games geared toward social interaction; board games, cooperative games, etc.

I asked Jack one day after camp;  "So, was there anyone fun to swim with today?"

Jack:  "I didn't swim with anybody."
Me:  "did the kids all have fun in the pool together?"
Jack: "nobody played with anybody!"

GAH!  Once again, I had forgotten.  What is one of the calling cards of Autism Spectrum Disorder?  LACK OF SOCIAL SKILLS.

So, basically I had put Jack in this camp, hoping he'd have fun with a group of boys his age, and nobody wanted to play together.

AND, on one day, this other boy in camp said to Jack: "if you do it again, I'm going to punch you right in the face."  I don't know what "it" is.  He also said to him, in a really disgusted tone; "thanks a lot, Jack. You just ruined my WHOLE DAY."  This was quoted back to me by Jack.

This troubled Jack immensely.  He is frightened by anger (though at times a very angry boy himself), and finds these kinds of confrontations appalling.  Once again, I told him to just steer clear of these kids, and if they bothered him, tell the counselors.  Jack pleaded with me not to make a scene and tell them.  After all, he's reaching that age wherein too much MOMMY INTERFERENCE causes great embarrassment.

So, finally camp ended.  I was completely worn out from empathizing and fretting all week. I had to rethink what gains we had made from camp, since my original hopes and expectations turned out to be unrealistic.

"Why did you want me to go to camp?"  Jack keeps asking.

Well, I told him, it was a good thing because it got him out of the house.  All he wants to do is stay inside and draw if he's not swimming (lucky thing there's a pool right across the street!!!).  I said it showed him that he is stronger, and more capable than he thought he was, because he stuck it out.  He did it.  He should be very proud of himself for accomplishing something he thought would be scary and difficult.  I also said it was good for him to see what other kids who have Autism might be like, and in that regard, he learned that there can be other kids who are "much more Autistic" than he is.   It's good to develop coping skills in this hard old world.  So I guess he'll take that with him....hopefully.

Would I send Jack to Autism Camp again?  No.  I think it's counterproductive in a sense.  If I want him to mimic the kind of behaviours that help him "fit in" better, I'm sorry to say it, but I don't know if they're found at Autism Camp.  Would he really be able to learn any good social skills there?  It didn't seem like it.  I would rather he go to a camp with--for lack of a better word--"normal" kids, so he could learn by example, and not learn in theory.

Does this mean I would exclude Jack from all Autism-related activities and workshops?  No.  I still intend to find some social skills groups that (by some miracle) won't have waiting lists, and I still daydream about that magical RESPITE WORKER who might one day come into our lives.

In the meantime though, I'll keep him safe at home, where he only has to worry about his little sister punching him.

2010, but nothing's changed.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

COMING SOON ~ so get ready!!!

I have to do it.

I can't not do it.


I'm going to be talking about THIS soon, people:

frowny face

So, go borrow a copy from that horny friend of yours (IF you haven't already read it, like all the other sheep. We're sheep.  Don't you see that we're sheep?), see if you can make it through a chapter, and then we're going to have a little chitty chat.  

You've got a day ... or two ......... or three (depending on how burnt out I am as this week of Autism Camp draws to a close).  


Tuesday, July 17, 2012

I Just Need To Bitch For A Mo

I feel deflated today.

just like this.

As I was driving Jack to camp this morning, I had such a knot in my stomach.  I was nervous.  I felt a little bit ill.  I felt a bit of doom the closer I got to the place.

And all the while I was thinking:  who the hell is the GROWNUP in this scenario???  Aren't I supposed to be all calm assurance, and CHIN UP and all that shit?  Well, I'm not.  At least not today.

There was my boy in the back seat, all quiet and resigned.  Somehow his resignation is almost as bad as anything else.  He was really good when I finally told him he'd be going to camp, too.  He cried a bit, and he was upset for a few minutes, but then he was resigned.  It's as if he's really getting the message:

Life is one big shit sandwich, and we have to take bites out of it.

Do you like that?  I came up with it myself.

The biggest thing is that he keeps asking "WHY?"  Why does he have to go to camp?  Why does he have to go to Autism camp?  Why?  Why?  WHY?

OH, I try to come up with all kinds of "logical" reasons:  blah, blah, blah, the world is hard, and we have to develop coping skills...blah blah blah, sometimes if we do hard, [sucktacular] things, when we're done we see how strong we are, and how much we're capable of...blah, blah, blah, wouldn't it be nice to see that there are other kids who think and feel the same way you do???

And about that last one?  I'm not entirely sure.  Where do you fit in, Jack?  Where do you fit in.  I've been wondering this.  At school, with his "neurotypical" classmates, Jack is the kid who's a bit quirky. He's the annoying kid who mimics them when they cough, or when they say something loud.  He's the kid who's scared when the teacher puts a movie on.

But, does he fit in with the other spectrum kids?  Jack's right on the border of his spectrum.  He's well-behaved at school.  He suffers along complacently enough.  Only at home is he mouthy and indulges in some really good melt downs.  Is he the only one there at camp with tics?  Is he too "spectrum-y" for the neuro kids, and too neuro for the spectrum kids???  I don't know.  I just don't know.

And by the way:  I hate that stupid word; neurotypical.  I don't know why but it offends me. It bugs me to my core.  Am I jealous?  I don't know.

So I dropped him off at camp. It's a thousand f*cking degrees out today.  I've got this stupid idiot smile on my face, and this bullshit breezy attitude.  I'm cracking jokes as we walk across the parking lot;  "ha ha Jack!  I forgot your 'communication log,' and your swimming goggles, and I didn't even know which door to go in and YOU did!  Har de har Jack, maybe YOU should be the GROWNUP!"


And the kid's not happy.  He hates camp. He hates that he has to be there ALL DAY.  Going under water in the pool, he told me, gave him a 'headache' yesterday.  He never wants to go to camp again!  Why!  Why does he have to go in SUMMER???  WHY????  

But, he's not saying any of these things that he said last night.  He's walking, quietly, resigned to camp.  That's good right?  He's not crying, right?  He'll survive and so will I.

So, I asked him if he wanted me to walk with him down to the gym, and he said; "Mom.  I'm fine."  And then he left.

So, I was standing there in the hall with all these fresh, eager, idealistic young adults in "AUTISM, YAY!" shirts (no, they didn't say "yay" on them), and they're all quiet, and smiling at me, and I shrugged and said;

"Well.  I guess that's it then."

And they smiled wider.

And I left.

I got into my car, and I looked around, and for just a moment, I hated that school, and I hated that parking lot, and I wished I never ever ever had to see places like this, or drive into places like this, or contact any place that has anything whatsoever to do with


And I don't care if I'm being a big pouty baby.  I don't care if I'm looking at the glass as only half full.  I'm sick to death sometimes of looking on the bright side and remembering that it could be so much worse.  And for just one minute, I want to be the MOM who doesn't have to do IRP's, or google how to stop my kid from being verbally abusive, or try to look up what nutrients might help alleviate bodily tics.  And I don't want to get any bullshit invitations to money-making golf tournaments from institutions that only have us on WAITING LISTS.  I ripped that one into many pieces.

But this is just today.  I'll put the smile back on when Jack comes home.
I know I'm doing the right thing, but I don't always have to like it.

This is just today.

I'll be better tomorrow.  

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Little Black Dress Two Ways


You're going to a wedding!  There's going to be a long enough time hole in between ceremony and reception that tempts you to have TWO OUTFITS.  Why do we feel tempted to wear one thing to the ceremony, and another outfit to the reception?

Honestly --  WHO CARES???

And yet, we are women, and wearing the same thing all day, as vain and pathetic as it sounds, is BOR-ING.

But, who feels like getting changed in between?  Who feels like forking out the dough to buy TWO outfits that you'll only wear once?


After all, that little black dress is really cute, but it's not that exciting. It's a wardrobe stable, and it's a veritable CANVAS for all the crap you're going to adorn yourself with!




You wear:

Little black dress ~ Rickis  (they are awesome, and have sizes from 0 to 18, or xs to xxl)
super yummy lickable hot pink gentlemen-prefer-blondes-esque handbag ~ H&M
peacock earings with lots of PINK ~ H&M
frou-frou flamenco-ish shoes ~ Winners
"gold" bow junk-chic ring ~ Zellers

Your makeup is light and pretty, and you wear a bright fuchsia lipstick


You whip off to your hotel room to fluff that hair up huge, and make it SEXY DISCO.  

Then you switch up those pretty pink accessories for BLING

♥ mega bling hoops
♥ ridonculous bling stretch ring
♥ rhinestones for BOTH wrists
♥ little black handbag with blinga-blinga
♥ orgasmically sparkly shoes ~ Nine West

Your makeup is smoky eye sexy and you smell fabulous with Victoria's Secret "Pink Fresh & Clean" eau de toilette

It's  NIGHT TIME and it's time to take it over the top!

Makeup:  Smashbox "Beauty Exposed" kit


Thursday, July 12, 2012

Don't Lick Poop.

The other night, The Man was putting the kids to bed.  Suddenly he ran coughing and sputtering into the bathroom, where he proceeded to gargle, spit and moan over the sink.

"What's the matter?"  I asked.

"I think I just licked some POOP!" he said with much horror.

♥ How did he do it everyone?


It turns out there was a brown smudge on Ella's leg, and The Man employed that great parental method of cleaning a kid with a thumb and a tongue.


he DOUBLE DIPPED.  When the smudge, which he thought was marker (because Ella draws all the time), didn't come off immediately, he licked his thumb again but encountered a certain unmistakable ODOUR.

So, he runs into the can in total horror, tells me what happened, and I run in with my handy little spray bottle filled with hydrogen peroxide.


and he does, because apparently we trust our spouses COMPLETELY, so there I was spritzing and spritzing and spritzing his tongue, and as we all know, peroxide...well, it burns.

So, his eyes begin to water and his mouth starts to burn, and he says to me;


and I say;


So, I make him gargle with a diluted solution of it, and then I made him swallow a swig of PEPTO, and he said;

"what will that do?"

and I said maybe, just maybe it will kill the poop bacteria before it festers and multiplies in his gut and turns into some fun episode of hurling.

Because really people?  I have no experience, personally, with licking poop.

So let this be a lesson to you:

Monday, July 9, 2012

Oh the dread...the suffocating dread...

Okay, that sounds a tad melodramatic, but


I am stressed.

Okay guys...lean in, because this is, as of this moment, top secret information.  I've signed my little guy Jack up for a week long Autism Spectrum Disorder summer day camp.  It is going to be next Monday to Friday, for six hours a day.

I'm horrified.

I'm horrified.  I can't believe I've done it.  When Jack finds out, he's going to

you have no idea.

Here's the blurb about the camp:

"Children will participate in a
wide variety of recreational activities to practice social skills, life skills, make new friends and have fun.
Activities may include: Fine motor activities, craft, swimming, gross motor skills (sports & movement
activities), indoor and outdoor activities."

Yes, I yearn for Jack to be able to learn how to make friends.  Yes, I want him to be able to get out there and get some exercise.  Yes, I'm even hoping that he feels a little bit less anxiety about leaving the house.

I even have this fantasy.  I have this fantasy that there's a boy there, and he and Jack hit it off.  They actually become friends, and want to hang out with each other, and then they have each other as buddies for life.

Just a little fantasy of mine.  Indulge me.

But nobody understands.  Everyone who I've talked to thinks this is great, and that I'm doing "the right thing," and that Jack needs this, and it's nothing but positive, and all the while, I feel like a total creep.

I feel like I've completely sold my little guy out.  Because I don't know if people realise how happy he is that he's not in school right now.  I don't know if people realise how difficult school is for him--because I do.  I was there in his classroom that day, and before that, I just kinda naively figured that the school day was a struggle because it was boring, and because kids his own age don't get him.  I didn't realise that the very act of sitting there-- trying to be natural and just frigging sit there, was  pure torture, and that every time a kid in class coughed, his eyes widened and he worked with all his mental fortitude to not mimic that cough.  You know:  because I told him to try as hard as he could to not "copy" his "friends." I told him that if he could just master that, the other kids wouldn't be annoyed with him.  And there he was, doing it for me.

So, the kid's been home now for a couple of weeks.  He goes on youtube.  He draws. He listens to his music.  He swims in the afternoons, and he is calm and content.  He can actually fall asleep at night, and all because he knows he has a long, long break from hell.

I haven't told him yet.  I will tell him in the next day or so.  I'm always torn between whether to wait, and tell him just before the dreaded day, so he won't suffer such terrible anxiety as he anticipates the event, or, tell him in advance so he has lots of time to process things.

He's going to scream. He's going to cry.  He's going to throw things.  He'll probably attack one of his parents.  He's going to be in despair.  He'll plead, he'll beg, he'll ask "WHY?  WHY?" a million times.  Hell, I can hear his crying in my mind now.  It's going to completely ruin his next two weeks.  And mine probably...

But I always get fooled.  I always trick myself into thinking that my little guy is so improved, that he doesn't need these things.  Just a few days ago I was thinking, again, about what a monster I am, and how could I force him to take part in this agonizing week that awaits him.  How is this going to help him?  He's so pleasant, what could this possibly do for him?  It's only one week!  What kind of changes could happen in one week?!?  Plus, it's all day!  Aren't the long hours going to be totally counterproductive in the end?

And then,

the very next day, The Man was at the office.  I was home with my two kids.  It was dinner time. I was just about to make Jack his dinner time peanut butter and jam sandwich.  I only had two pieces of bread left.  One was the end piece.  I was horrified.  What the hell was I going to do???  Jack doesn't eat the end piece!  How could I have been so foolish to have a piece of bread at lunch?!?

I ran across the street to my sister's.  Oh no.  She only had that whole wheat bread that LOOKS like white bread.  I had no choice. I had to try it.  Also, I was almost out of chocolate syrup.  The horror!  So, it was then that it hit me, as I was putting peanut butter on this pale bread, and worrying that Jack would reject it on sight, and realising that I still can't just hop into the car with the kids and go to the store, and realising...


you know.

So I don't know.  Does anyone have any tips on how I can stop feeling like a total monster for sending my favourite 8 year old guy to a camp for 5 days, when all he wants is to do his own thing in peace?


Thursday, July 5, 2012

The Road To FUN Is Paved With Crusty, Oozing Sores

I miss you guys.  Can we hold each other for a moment?

Oh thanks.  I needed that.

Much of The Man's family from England are still visiting (all in town for a family wedding), and we're all still super busy, so I am taking a small break here to chitty chat with you guys, because frankly, it's been one fuckeroo of a week.  Pardon my language.

As many of you know, I don't use the EFF word lightly.  No.  It is my most special, most sacred word.  You can't toss that shit around like candy.  No.  You have to save it like it's the last few shots of that really special rum you got in the Dominican.  If you use it all the time, it loses its power.  It's the king of all words.

See that?  I even had to censor my drawing, because if my kids look at my blog and see that KING EFF there, they'll be all exaggerated gasp for air horror sounds, and The Man will say nothing, but he might give me that look again that says I really should be more careful about the kind of stuff I put on my blog, because it's out there for the whole world to see.

Anyhow,  I present for you now:


"Hand Foot & Mouth Disease" is a nasty little mofo you may or may not have heard of, or even encountered.  Henceforth, we shall refer to it as HFMD.

At first, you were smug.  Your kids now get to have a chicken pox vaccination, so you were all  NYAH, SUCK ON THAT, CHICKEN POX!  LICK MY A$$, SHINGLES!  YOU WON'T GET MY KIDS!

Yes, you were very smug.  You spent your days on the lookout for:

a) colds
b) the flu
c) the "stomach flu", AKA barf-o-poop-o-rama
d) weird, vague, mystery fevers with few to no symptoms
e) cancer.  Always with the cancer.  You can hardly go a minute without thinking about frigging cancer.  That weird little bump your kid got on his arm, simply by bashing himself at the playground?  Well, it didn't go away IMMEDIATELY, so you freaked, sobbed and concluded it was cancer.

And then one of your kids was lucky enough to get HF&MD.  Here's what you can expect:

♥ two or three days of lethargy, complaints of headaches, mystery tantrums, and come-and-go fevers

♥ total flipping out when they try to eat something, like you've filled their sandwiches with small, razor sharp knives, and their juice with battery acid.  You will think they're getting colds.

! This blows, because it's probably coinciding with something important, like THE LAST WEEK OF SCHOOL.  Oh well, it's just a cold.  You can keep him/her home from school for one day.  The last week of school is 98% useless BS anyway.

♥ At around the third day or so, you will conclude your kid's eczema has gone completely haywire.  Wow, that's some crazy, f*cking eczema! you will say to yourself.  Antihistamines and oatmeal baths will, of course, be totally useless.  Then that rash will start to get retarded.  Your sister will say; "that sounds like more than just eczema to me," and so you decide to whip that kid in to see the doctor.

...and also because you gave the kid a spoonful of honey and she's now SCREAMING, SCREAMING BECAUSE THE HONEY IS BURNING, OH IT'S SOOOOO BURNING!!!!

♥The diagnosis will arrive:  HAND FOOT AND MOUTH DISEASE.  What the hell is that?!?

It is a fairly contagious viral infection, which typically occurs most often in children 10 years old and younger.  It is spread by poo poos, open, oozing rash sores, coughing, sneezing, general juvenile need to lick random things, etc.  It causes fever, general malaise, rash, and blister-like sores on the throat!  Hooray!

♥ Oh, and this will happen before a really important event, like, a family wedding, ESPECIALLY if your daughter is the flower girl, your son has his own little rental tuxedo, and you have had your little black dress hanging up in the closet for months.

When you google image HF&MD, you will typically see pictures like this:


and this:


and this:


There are other pictures with a few dots on feet, arms, etc.  Most look not too, too horrid, and there are a few pictures that look pretty lousy.

However, this is YOU, and YOU are CURSED.  Your child will look like THIS

♥ Oh yeah...and everything you read will pretty much say that the rash typically doesn't itch.  That, of course, it total BULLSHIT.  It itches like a zesty motherf*cker, and your poor kid can't sleep for two nights as that sumbitch blooms and blossoms.

♥ In between generous bouts of self pity and wailing that you'll NEVER GO TO THE WEDDING NOW, AND YOU HAD SPARKLY SHOES, AND WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO WEAR YOUR SPARKLY SHOES NOW?  TO THE GROCERY STORE?!?  bleach the frig out of everything so your other kid doesn't get it, and give your poor kid two to three baths a day, dabbing their skin with antibacterial soap.

♥ Calamine lotion actually seems to work!  You want to kiss that calamine lotion. It's a total asshole to apply though.  Too bad you'll clearly never make it into the MENSA CLUB.  It's a total revelation when your dad suggests painting that thin, milk-like stuff on with a little paintbrush.

Total revelation.

♥ Finally, don't panic. Karma loves to shit on you, yes. It loves to take big, crunchy dumps directly on your head, and you know this, but you should also know that typically it will work out in the end, and you'll make it to that special event! After all, HF&MD usually only lasts one endless, hellish week.

! However:  you will be exhausted by the time your child feels better.  You will be completely maxed out, and will have a shameful moment of screeching at your children in the car that NOBODY CAN DRINK THE GODDAMN FRUITOPIA NOW UNTIL WE GET TO THE HOTEL BECAUSE AT LEAST YOU GUYS GOT A DRINK, AND GUESS WHAT?!?  I'M HUNGRY AND THIRSTY TOO AND I'VE HAD NOTHING!!! GOT THAT?!?  N O T H I N G !!!!!

did you know it was actually 4000 degrees on Sunday?

♥ Weddings have COCKTAILS.  Also, there's always a liquor store around here somewhere.  Never forget that. It will get you through.


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