Big Massive Huge Fail of Epic Proportions....AKA The Mess That Just Might Cost Us Everything, and How My Dad Thought It Was Funny

No one reads this, so I suppose I can just write. And write I will.

I'm pretty much done.

I am close to the edge. I've gotten to the point that being done doesn't scare me anymore.

Paul was supposed to go to work in the oil fields in North Dakota. It was very promising. The thought of him being home one week out of the month sucked, but we are desperate. And desperate times call for desperate measures. So, a-borrowing we went, and he packed and left. Tears were shed. Facebook statuses were shared. He was off to frack himself silly. And he was back in 3 days.

I could go on and on about the state of the trucking industry. I'm sure you aren't interested. It is safe to say that the fact that the truck he was supposed to drive didn't work, there was no work for him to do, and he spent three days sleeping in his pickup had a lot to do with his return.

He's not planning on going back. He's had job offers, but seriously, it cost us what little we had left to send him there. He came home with nothing. We are broke. Flat broke. Well, kindve....we have $50. So not exactly broke, but I'd call it pretty damned close.

We are on our way to skid row.

Stop, Drop and Go!!!

Taking my kids to school (and picking them up for that matter) can be a challenge. It shouldn't be but it is. I don't get it. Why make something so easy so hard??? You just stop your vehicle at the proper spot. Your sweet angel opens the door and exits the vehicle, and you leave. That's it.

This is not the case at my kids' school.

I take a total of five kids to school. Four boys and a girl. Two of them belong to me. We go to our elementary school first. That drop off isn't that bad. Since I'm a bit of a rebel, I drop them off in front of the school instead of waiting in line. Things move quickly. I press a button, my van door opens, four boys spill out, the van door closes, and I'm outta there. I move on with the girl to the middle school. This is when the shit hits the fan. I don't know what's up with these people. They have tweens and teens. I've been so tempted to scream, "They don't want to talk to you!!!! Seriously, they just want to go and hang with their friends. Is that why you must sit in the line and talk with them??? Why????"  The girl I take to school has a cast on her foot. She can walk on it, but when it is raining, she needs to be dropped off closer to the school entrance. "What is so damned important that your kid is sitting in your car for five minutes??? Why must you have this conversation now??? I just want to drop her off and get the hell out of there. You are making this so much harder than it needs to be. Just go already!!!!"

Today I actually honked and came this close to flipping someone the bird. I stopped when I found out it was one of the 4th grade teachers.

Good save, Sheri!!!!

Seriously, Dude, Seriously

I remember back in the day, sitting around in my back yard, daydreaming. I've wanted to be a wife and mother since, well, since I could remember. I loved to play mom and wife in my playhouse. I had it set up just so: fake food in the fridge, fake chicken and veggies bubbling away on the stove, clean lil pots and pans and plates put away in their cupboards, sweet baby dolls quietly napping away in their sweet little baby beds. Everything went smoothly. Dinner never got burnt, babies never cried, my fake husband (usually Donny Osmond or Keith Partridge) was happy happy happy and always made more than enough money to pay the bills and feed the kids. Life was good. Of course, the playhouse was a storage shed when I wasn't playing house, the kitchen set was metal and fake, my dolls were plastic, and my husband wasn't real, but I didn't let that stop me from enjoying this life and hoping it would be mine in real life one day.

Fast forward a few years, (ok, more than a few but who's counting??) I've got the house. It is barely big enough to contain all the crap we've collected over the years. One bathroom--nuff said. The kitchen is nice, but jeez, why can't it clean itself. And seriously, plastic food was much easier to cook. The kids are nutz. Their issues are many. They hate school. Two of the three have autism, they all have ADHD. And my husband---that's a whole other ball of wax. God knows I love the man.

I guess I'm just overfreakinwhelmed. I know I shouldn't be. There are women out there who work so much harder than I do. They have jobs. They cure cancer. My job?? To stay home, clean, cook, and take care of kids. How hard should this be??? Women have done it for years. In heels, backwards. No washing machine, dishwasher or even a car made available to them. These women wore dresses and hats. They wore makeup and their houses were spotless. Their children were well-behaved and listened to them. These women, they greeted their husbands at the door with his slippers and a drink. Heck, Paul is lucky if I greet him at all.

I feel like I just want to drop down, go to sleep and never wake up again. I'm tired. Tired all the time.

Why is this so hard for me??

If you figure it out, please let me know, because I don't have a clue.

I'm BBBBAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!

Well, people who read this blog, I'm back.

"Why??" you ask. Because my facebook peeps keep telling me that I really really need a blog, and I have one, I just haven't written in it for two years. It is sitting here all lost and alone in the internets. Waiting patiently, or maybe not so, for me to come back and care about it.

I am hoping writing will be easier--theraputic, perhaps.

And since I'm spewing forth little and big pieces of my life, I'm hoping someone finds my writing interesting.

And now for the disclaimers--and there are many:

I graduated from high school in 1986 and didn't finish college. I stay home all day and clean, cook and shop. You want proper grammar, spelling and the like--leave now. I am going to write like I talk and I'm sure it won't be pretty.

I cuss. A lot. I am not proud of it, but it is me. Sorry. Consider yourself warned.

There is no topic that is completely off limits.....my period, my mood swings, my political views. If you want me to write about something, let me know.

I will NOT fight with you. If you hate me, then hate me quietly and leave me alone. I've got a lot of shit on my plate and the last thing I want to hear about is how my children could be better citizens if I would have taken the time to breastfeed or vote republican.

Other than that, I'm going to bed. Tonight was my weekly Go-and-buy-crap-from-Target run and I'm friggin tired.

I Love the Smell of Inaugural in the Morning

Ok....maybe it wasn't love. I voted for the other guy. And of course, he didn't win. I'm not claiming to be an expert in all things political, but I think I just agreed more in what Mr. McCain was hoping to achieve.

That's not to say I don't like President Obama, because I do. He gives one hell of a speech and I could seemingly listen to him talk forever. He actually spoke less than a half mile away from my house.

I didn't go, because, well, I voted for the other guy. But I listened to his speech from my front porch and yes, I could hear every word--clearly. How's that for doing things halfway???

So, I was excited but not about the inauguration. Excited more for Matt than anything else. It was his first presidental election and he was all for President Obama. He has an Obama shirt and hat and told everyone he could that it was time. Time for an African American president. He really wanted him to win. And I'm glad he did. Of course, the Obama supporters who showed up at our door up to 3 times a day during the last two weeks of the election could have swayed the boy a bit. (Never saw a McCain supporter--John, you think that's why you didn't win?)

Anywhoo, I had the radio on, the TV was on, and I was trying to get on to CNN Live so I could do the interactive thing on facebook. The feed didn't work. Thanks a lot CNN.

I also had more pressing matters. Namely this. (Yeah, you tried my lame attempt at a link right???? Got nuttin??? That's because after trying for like half an hour to get the damned thing to show up, I gave up. Sorry.) Isn't it pretty?? (Yes, Vera Bradley java blue mini bowler bags are pretty.) I got it on my beloved e bay. For less than $20--it retails for over $50. Because the auction was ending right about the time President Obama was taking the stage. I spent about God knows how long running from my living room back into the kitchen back into the living room and so on. If something sounded interesting, I'd run into the living room, watch it and then come back to the computer and hit the refresh button to see how much time was left in the auction. Then I would click on to the CNN window and facebook to see what everyone was saying. All this time I was having to listen to the action on the radio because the feed wasn't working. Then I'd run back into the living room, watch, run back into the kitchen and the cycle would repeat itself.

But in the end, I won. Gotta love democracy in action.

PS. How do you like the new look???? Let me know. Please.

All I Want for Christmas is a Little Peace (and Quiet)

Hello Internet People,

I'm about ready to lose my mind. Actually, most of it has been lost for quite a while, but what little is left is about to be lost, if you know what I mean.

You don't know what I mean???

How about I paint a picture for you???

My house--done. Party supplies and party plans for preschool and first grade party--purchased and done. Cookie ingredients--purchased and in a bin with recipes ready for next week. Cards--3/4 done. Santa has directions to my parent's house and will be there X-mas Eve. I have about 2 hours worth of mall shopping. But that's ok....

So, what's wrong with this picture???? Why am I going to lose it any moment now????

One word--Quinn.

I don't know if his preschool is feeding him crack or what, but the past two months have been nothing but crazy with him, and God knows, I can't do much more crazy. He runs around like he's been wound up too tight. In circles. Like a crazy man. From the moment he wakes, until his head hits the pillow, he goes and goes and goes. He gets into things he knows full-well he shouldn't, he destroys his room and anywhere he goes, leaving a path of toy pieces and broken stuff in his path. He's four and a half--not 2.

God help me, but when he leaves in the morning, I'm almost relieved. I know I should be shot for even saying that, but it is the truth.

The hardest thing: his preschool teacher. I really like her. She is a great teacher. But she is of no help to me when it comes to seeing if this is just a phase or if I should seek help for him. Because she sees nothing. He's just fine according to her. She said the same thing about Nate. And I believed her. Sortve. I mean, I knew they wanted him out of special education, and I had concerns about his age going into kindergarten, but she swore he was great and he'd be just fine.

She was wrong. Nate has aspergers and ADHD. I spent hours on the phone with his teacher, his classroom aide, his principal, the cafeteria ladies..... Finally a diagnosis, as plain as the nose on my face, but his preschool teacher. saw. nothing.

Believe me, I've done this before--twice now. I know full well the administrative side could care less and puts pressure on the teachers to turn a blind eye to problems. I know. I just keep on hoping that this time things will be better. That somehow, these people who have gotten the education and dedicated their lives to teaching will suddenly give a shit. I even know that this will not happen.

I am not sure I even have enough fight left in me anymore. You know what the scary part is??? Really. A doctor could diagnose any of my kids with anything and I'd still love them and be ok. The thing that is going to drive me over the edge is dealing with the school system.

Autism???? Been there. Done that. Same with ADD, ADHD, aspergers, mild mental handicap.....Bring. it. on. Will I be sad??? Yep. Will I be mad???? Disappointed??? Will I scream why my son and cry????? You betcha. But I'll get over it, because I love my kids and want what is best for them.

The. one. thing. I. cannot. handle.........Case conferences, IEPs and all the special education crap for another. thirteen. years. I literally want to throw up just thinking about it. There are few things in life I hate.....racism, discrimination, hate itself. I try to find the good in people. Really. I don't really hate anyone except Hitler and the administration of our special education cooperative. I'm not even comparing the two, because that would be an insult to Hitler.

Yep, I hate them that much.

In reality, I will grow a couple and live to fight another day, but it is just sad that I should have to fight. Educating children with special needs helps everyone in the long run. Spending a little more now saves a lot more later.

My kids and yours deserve educators who are truthful and care about doing their job.

I'm Sick, Crap Fairs and Quinn on Crack

Last Thursday, Quinn came home from school and just sat down. He didn't eat hardly any of his lunch (nachos, and veggies) and he just continued to sit and watch TV. I was perfectly happy with this, especially since I had emptied out his and Nate's room to reorganize (read--throw away old toys) and clean it up. I kept an eye on him, but I wasn't really worried because he had fought going to bed the night before and I figured he was tired.

About halfway through the cleaning up, he got up and went into my bedroom to take a nap. Something had to be up, because this kid is NOT the type who just naps. He fights sleep. So I went in and felt his forehead---HOT. Oh, shit, I thought, there goes the rest of the day. His temp was 104. I called the doctor and got ready to leave. Get this--Paul took all the cash we had on hand to work (idiot), he also took the insurance card (double idiot), and left me barely enough gas to get to the doctor and back. I called him and gave him a wee small piece of my mind. The diagnosis: strep. Antibiotics and rest. He is fine now......

I however, am not. I'm sick. I don't have a fever and probably don't have strep, but I've got the cold symptoms and can't sleep. Nyquil you say??? Oh no. Not unless I want to be in a coma for the next 2 days. I love me my Nyquil, but unless Paul is going to be home, I can't do it. So Quinn is great and making up for lost time by running around our house like a crazy man. I, on the other hand, am doing nothing other than sitting on my way-too-big ass.

Yesterday was a good day. My Auntie Jean and I went to the local craft fair. Paul and I call them crap fairs. I love looking and making the occasional purchase, Paul would rather do almost anything than go with me. When Auntie Jean called and asked if I still wanted to go, Paul saw this as a sign from the good Lord himself. He couldn't get me out of the house fast enough. I went to take a shower and went into our room to find he had layed out my clothes, made sure my cell phone was charged and had put money into my purse. Even my coat and scarf were ready for me. Auntie Jean picked me up and we went to the fair. Lots of nice stuff. We didn't really need anything, but I got her a small snowman, and she got me a big one. We then went to the dollar store to get a couple of tins she could fill with cookies and give away. Then lunch--yummy.

After that we went to the Lake County Visitors Center to see their Christmas display. The 1983 movie "A Christmas Story" turns 25 years old this year. It was set in Hammond. My hometown borders Hammond, Indiana, (it is called Hohman in the movie--in reality Hohman is a main street in Hammond). Other than being on Lake Michigan and making steel, northwest Indiana isn't known for much--except this movie.

Our visitors center got the Macy's window displays that were done in honor of the movie. They are selling leg lamps. The movie will be shown, there's an ugly lamp contest, autograph signings with a couple of the stars--all that jazz. We looked at all the displays and then came home. I'm taking my kids next weekend. Santa sits on a big deck and after telling him their wishes, kids have to go down a slide to leave. If you haven't seen the movie, I'm sure you are thinking I've lost my mind, so go and see it. I haven't met anyone who hasn't loved it.

So, what do you do for fun around the holidays??