I shouldn't be writing right now

Today was the baby shower of my best friend from high school.  I saw her probably five minutes total, and I regret that there wasn't more time.  At the same time, I am starting to understand now why everything happens in its own time.

We make these connections throughout our lives, sometimes they reoccur like themes.  Life is pattern, pattern is life, and we go through these cycles...  Sometimes we evolve, sometimes we run our heads into walls.  Sometimes patterns lead us to other places with the same people we've known seemingly all of our lives.

This week I had the pleasure of editing a friend's book, also attempting to complete the blanket I'm making for the baby.  I failed in the blanket, but in the book I feel I succeeded.  I felt a closeness with this individual I haven't felt in a long while.  He's on his way up the ladder.

And I've been his cheerleader for ages now, I was the one small voice that the Muppets talk about, before all of the other voices chimed in.  

and I find myself thinking about how in a few short years I'll find myself cheer-leading my own children, invested from moment one.  And I think of my childhood best friend, Kristine is her name.  How she will experience that feeling for the first time in just a few weeks.

I remember her, when we were children, would scarcely say a word.  She said she didn't have anything to say, she was too shy, and I helped her find her voice.  

I believe in everyone else, but myself.  I've no reason to believe.  I've never done a single wonderful noteworthy thing in my life other than mind my children, people believe something else of me for a while, then they realize I'm something of a poser. When will the kids see that I'm a poser?

When will this depression just go the fuck away already?  

I'm going to bed.

Tracking my muse

I've been spending some down time recently.  I'm not entirely certain it's by choice.

SARK (www.planetsark.com) speaks about micromovements, and how a person who is easily discouraged can encourage themselves by making micromovements. For example, if you need to clean your closet, which has long, for years even, been neglected, one way to tackle it is just by brute force.
Another way, is by micromovements.

Day 1, open the closet door.

Day 2, pull out 5 pairs of shoes and look at them

et cetera and so on until the huge job is done.
(for more details see here)

Then I was listening to the "Radio Lab" Podcast entitled "Help!" where one writer/doctor literally threatened himself with suicide if he didn't complete the book he was trying to write in 10 days time.

I was also reminded of the above picture, which a friend posted on Facebook.  (originally posted by Jim Chines)

And it's true!  It's very strange how motivation works.
With me, I rarely have a lack of motivation, that is, until recently.  Recently motivating me has been a similar exercise to trying to squeeze kielbasa through a drinking straw without the aid of a blender.

I've had passing conversations with my friend, he says it's very hard to motivate himself to straighten up the house when he sees his girlfriend on the computer relaxing after a hard day at work, and how it's frustrating for him to keep on keeping on with the work that needs to be done.

Recently, my husband has been my mirror, whenever I'm on a computer, he is.  This explains my lack of a presence on social networks, only bare minimums of bills being paid, and an amount of stress and frustration that is simply unparalleled!
Paul struggles a bit with internet addiction, I'm sure he doesn't mind me talking about it.  Once he gets on a hockey forum, or starts interacting online with folks whom he shares an interest, he simply loses track of time.  It's not uncommon for him to come to bed at 3 or 4 in the morning if I don't force him to come to bed with me.
Some may say I am micromanaging him to ask him to come to bed, but there's more to the story.  Paul has epilepsy, and the kind that's aggravated by both stress and lack of sleep, he's hasn't been seizure free for more than 6 months in almost 5 years now.    This means, that I have been the sole driver in a family of four for almost 5 years running.  I'm SO SICK of driving EVERYWHERE.  Sometimes a gal just wants to write, or knit or do something OTHER than drive when headed to somewhere.  We won't even go into the amount of speeding tickets I've gotten over time.  (My running theory on that is, and still will remain that I am on the road more than most people so I therefore get more speeding tickets.  Law of averages.  Come on, someone provide me some statistics and back me up here?)
Anyway, back to Paul, the constant arguing of a forum environment mixed with going to bed at 4 and waking up at 730 does not bode well with me.
I don't know what's so different between myself and him, I can (when I chose to) have amazing will power and be able to just walk away from anything I am doing, no matter how engaging I find the activity.  Paul, however... seems to lack this ability.  Telling me "just a second" constantly, then forgetting whatever request I've made, and still sitting at his computer 3 hours later.

Previous to the past month, I had made a conscious effort to not go on the computer when I was home.  When I wasn't on the computer, Paul wasn't.  When he did go on the computer, it was for a few minutes at a time to do normal computer tasks such as email and apply for jobs, (as the man is, although very talented still unemployed!)
But I went nearly crazy, I felt I never had any downtime.  I felt like I was running from place to place.  I got behind on bills, got behind on emails, felt like a failure.  The stress seemed to contribute to my catching a cold that the kids caught, so not only did I have to stay home from work to take care of them and get them to doctors visits, but I fell ill.

So, I gave in, I said "This one day, I will take care of everything I've neglected" and now, I'm on the computer at least a half an hour every day outside of work.

It's just strange how will power and the muse work.
I haven't felt inspired to write for a while now.  I've just been thinking, "My life is too boring" or "I'll write more when I have time." I have time every night, but I don't want to give Paul permission to slack off all night.

I have another friend who is trying to get a blog, Any blog, off the ground.  He's worked on and off on the same basic idea for a while now.  He's a master procrastinator.  Still, sometimes he'll sit and produce six months worth of work in 1 evening.  It just... baffles me how his muse will be hyper productive then abandon him for six months.  He has the drive and desire, but just... it fizzles out.

Yes, that's it.  His muse is GLaDOS. 

Poor bloke, if it were me, I would probably get a more violent muse, like the stick figure above.  This one will just passive aggressive him to death.  He'll never get cake!

There is a muse in this picture.

My muse is more like a ninja.  It ATTACKS, out of nowhere.

It'll lay in wait for months, or years, then suddenly...

ZOMG cute IN YOUR FACE,go ahead and TRY to resist writing me!

Yeah.  I can't resist it.  I have to write it right THEN.

This, adorable little ninja is of course an exaggeration.  Nothing THAT cute has ever come from my writing.

Hmm, the next book maybe?  The littlest ninja.  Cute, but can kill you in 19 ways in 2 minutes.

That's all for me.  Hope you find your Muse!

A sniveling mess

So, I've run into this opportunity at my child's school to become involved in a community theatre group They donate an obscene amount of money to the Ann Arbor Public Schools and the Rec and Ed foundation. It's a good cause, good people, you only have to pay $35 a school year to participate. For those of my readers who are not aware, I was active in the theater as a child. I was also active in the theater as a young woman in high school, I was involved in a creative and performing arts program through high school, (save the last semester.) I have been involved in workshops with the Royal Shakespeare Company, ran a war protest reading of Lysistrata, (which was, by the way an utter failure, but still fun). I have sang since I was 6 where I either performed Blues with my Father, Church Hymns (back when I was 6), I have been and intend to continue to be involved in an Acoustic rock band, "Tommy's Little Sister" (yes that IS me on the Vocals TYVM.) So, I'm somewhat talented, I have the want to help others... Especially when the others could very well be my own children. 

Can someone explain to the class why in the heck I'm not wanting to do this?
 Anyone?
Show of hands?

No, me either. But I don't. 

Sept. 11, 2011

I took a long look at my Facebook wall today, expecting tearful recounts, silent reflection. I found some of the above, but saw a lot of same old same old. Just another day now. At the same time, the souls of those who passed, maybe that's all they would have wanted? Just a quiet nod at the beginning of a day. Then a family, presumably yours or mine, climbing up a hill to have a picnic; reveling in life and the living of it.

For 10 years now, we've all been waiting for the world to return to normal. To not forget, per se, but to allow our wounds to heal and to transcend beyond this attack on American soil.

For 10 years now, I've said relatively nothing about my feelings on the matter, waiting for the right time to express, and express in a proper way.

And over the past few days I've been seeing this post on most social networks, post an American flag to prove that you did not forget.

I posted a picture of my daughter. WHY?

The day of the attacks for us, was like any other. My dear daughter almost 2 and I rose out of bed in Belleville Michigan, drove her father Bill to work, then came back home to watch TV until my next class, Pre-Calc. I'm not much of a mathematician but I did enjoy my Pre Calc course. The instructor was a real wonder and had a way of making alphabet soup make sense to even the densest individuals. Like me!
So, as we were watching TV, you would have thought I would have heard something. Lily and I watched PBS in the morning, so we had no idea what was going on.

Later, I popped a cassette into the car's cassette player, so to me, for a long time, September 11, 2001 was just another day.

I dropped Lily off at the FEB (Family Education Building, day care), then proceeded to class.

Then we got to Pre-Calc. Us students gathered, some wondered if there would be class today.
And I asked "why wouldn't there be?"
About 10 students asked in unison if I had been living under a rock. I informed them, "Well, yes I guess I have been."
And they told me, with a 19 year old's enthusiasm, of the attacks.
And I thought to myself of a few years previous, hearing about the bomb in the parking shelter underneath the WTC, and how although there was an explosion, nothing bad happened.
In his enthusiasm, the 19 year old didn't tell me about the deaths. I just assumed it was a grand mistake, just as the other attack was until our instructor entered the room.

She looked just awful. Tears running down her face. She brought the class to order.

She explained, VERY slowly, and while taking a lot of deep breaths, that she and her husband had known a lot of people at the Pentagon, and that she was concerned for their safety.
And although I do not really remember her name anymore, I do remember the pain etched on her face. The Fear, the LOSS.
And suddenly all of it became a little too real.
I felt awful for her. "If you need to compose yourself," I said, "I think everyone here would agree that we aren't going to hold it against you if you end class."
She said "NO. To my friends this was just another day at work, we need to go on as nothing has happened. Mourning can happen later, but for the dead we need to prove that we are still alive." (now this was 10 years ago, so I'm not sure the words were correct but this was the sentiment.)

And she took a deep breath and taught class. But she ended it a half an hour early.
I went to retrieve my daughter, I asked the workers if they had heard. Some had, some hadn't. I asked if I could use their telephone, (I did not have my own cell phone at this point) And I called the Brown's, (my in laws, then) who of course had been glued to their TV set, watching.

I also called Bill. He said yes, he had heard, but had also just assumed I had, too.
I remember the drive home vividly, but I don't really remember where I was driving to.
As I drove down Clark, then up Hogback to leave, I remember seeing police cars in the drive way at the Sheriffs department, blocking off the driveway.

Later, after Bill had returned home, we went to his parents house where we found his sister, Susie and her boyfriend Alex. We shot the shit as we always had. Alex talked about some new geeky thing he had gotten, and we all reveled in the geekiness between shots of the towers falling. Bill's Dad watched again and again, and every time he watched, he got a bit more angry and a bit more sad.
Even Lily, at her 23 months, seemed to understand the gravity of it.

Mr. Brown and I never saw eye to eye on politics, but that day we both felt the same thing, This NEEDS to be retaliated for, but who should be attacked.

I'm not one for revenge, really. Just, was over come with the rage of something happening on the soil of this country.

I remembered as a child watching the Iraq war on the television, and being afraid anytime a scud missile was deployed, and my Father quietly reassuring me from his white arm chair that everything would be all right; that no harm would ever come to me as long as I was on US soil.
"We are so far away, Dee Dee, that they can't touch us here. So dry your tears, and try to go to sleep, honey."
and now the thing that I had based my 20 years on, that as long as I was here, I would be safe... Was no longer true. Everywhere I looked I saw tired and shocked police officers, people scrambling.

And then Alex said something that I think was the most appropriate thing he could have said.
"With all of this going on, no matter how our relationships turn out and no matter what happens, we are tied together by the acts tonight. Even 10 or 15 years from now, we may not remember what we were wearing or what we were doing, but we will remember who we kept the company of."
Then he went back to whatever it was he was actually doing.

The next day, there was no school. It was my "Writing for digital media" class, which by far was my favorite. I thought the instructor was handsome and easy to listen to, and the content of the course was intriguing. (he later became my boss at the newspaper)

The next day was Renaissance faire. I was working as a manager at the Turtle Races, although the grounds were nearly empty, it was such a comfort to see those faces. Angie Hill and her daughters, my brother, Jason Roland and his then wife, Bill, Lyn, Dave... All of my workers at the faire. There was the broad sense of unity. I miss the unity.
And Angie, I think it was anyhow, handed out ribbons, red, white and blue, saying that this was for the Ambassador of Oosa, (USA) and to her recovery.

In the days following, I received a first hand account of the attack from a friend of my Brother's. How awful the whole thing had been. I could feel myself in the stifling blue smoke, feel my face pressed against the windows.



The next year, Bill and I split. Alex and Susie were long gone, and the whole thing became a snapshot in my history.

But my first thought of that day, after I had found out what had happened, was "Is Lily safe? What kind of world did I bring her into?"
A few years later on Sept. 11
"What kind of Mom am I? Why did I leave her behind the next year to her Father?"
And now,
"Yes, the whole ordeal was awful, but a piece of our history I cannot even imagine living without. How it has shaped us?"

How did we get to this current Political environment; the dog and pony show this whole government has turned into a three ring circus. One party says one thing so the other party is obligated to say another completely opposite thing, just to get attention. Dressing up like buffoons. Pointing fingers and saying "He's destroying America, she's destroying America." Guess what folks. It takes two to tango. This constant arguing is destroying what we worked so hard to build. You may not agree, you'll NEVER agree, that's not good for ratings, but can you at least ATTEMPT to compromise for the good of the rest of us?
There is no such thing as intelligent discourse about politics anymore, it's all emotion, hideous, filthy emotion: Like jealousy, like revenge, like greed.

You don't have to agree with me. No one has to. I'm not going to hold a gun to anyone's head... However, I like to think at least some folks agree with me here.

But now I understand just how much I have grown in 10 years, and this day, as it has been since 2001 will be a bookmark; a constant reminder to quietly reflect on how we have grown as a nation, and how I have grown as a person.

Some meme for youyou

Blogging at work while on break... One of the GREAT JOYS of the corporate lifestyle... Wish I could be doing this full time but I digress.

So Paul's continuing journey into the land of the unemployed has taken a 4 month toll.
Last year at about this time, he was entering the hospital in status epilepticus, AKA exiting real life for Twitchville. He had 4 Clonic Tonic (AKA Gran Mal) seizures in as many nights.
We took him to the neurologist, who almost did nothing. Paul couldn't talk, couldn't count backwards from 100 by 3's, (a task which is usually easy for him) We found he was having all kinds of different seizures. They changed the drugs he was on, and poof, after a month or two he was ok to work again and then we started to understand the kind of stresses he had REALLY been under at work. He wasn't able to fully verbalize before. Now, a year later and he's been fired by the same jerk who started the trouble. I should send that man an anvil top hat.

I'm sure it'll end up being a win-win situation. Our Hollywood Disney ending hasn't happened yet. We said "I will" several years ago and we are still just trying to take off.

Most people have dreams. Most people have goals they are working toward: They are working toward their degree, their freedom, losing weight I have found that I am stunningly goal-less. I also feel like I'm lacking a spine. I want to publish books but at the same time the security of my current situation is culling me to complacency. That and utter exhaustion. I am on the brink, all I feel like doing is sitting down and sleeping. I don't normally watch TV or movies, and yet my Netflix account is seeing record use from me.
I stopped writing because although I loved reading it and thought it was funny, it felt like a 24/7 bitch session. And people inevitably ended up feeling like my husband was a complete lazy ass loser.
He's not, FYI. I got sick of defending him though. I spent the last 2 years of my life doing that in the court of law. Just sometimes, the lackluster low activity level and lack of stressing about anything gets to me. but it's not actually a bad thing that he doesn't stress out.

The baby learned an evil laugh a few days ago. Lily's been over and so we trade off our nightly television/movie sessions between Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog The Crow and various Disney Sap

Anyway, Dr. Horrible got Paul breaking into fits of maniacal laughter, and in turn, since Tom is in full "Monkey see, Monkey do" mode, we now have a baby with an evil laugh. Which kind of sounds like, "Wahahahahah... (eruption of baby giggles)"

The power went out Sunday evening/early Monday Morning. Everyone in the house made sure to tell me all about it. The kids upstairs, who are very young, screamed. Which woke the pre-teen in my apartment up who asked me, "Mom, what the heck is wrong with the MP3 player and speakers?" (I explained the power was out, which I really would have thought to be self explanatory, she has a fan in her room, too.) The sassing from the hallway woke Evan up, who yelled "Mom, my TV is off." I responded the power was out, he turned over and went back to sleep. An hour later Dan woke up and insisted he HAD to sleep with Paul and I... Add in the dog, with every person who passed within a mile of my window, (here's a hint: US 23 runs about a half a mile away from my window, and can be heard clearly on nights when there is no electricity running.) and you have a three ring circus, BEFORE needing to grocery shop and go to work.
I'll admit, with all of my running around I ended up staying home from work,. It was a risk/reward behavior. If I went in, I was more likely to get myself fired for sassing off at one of the customers. I'm usually pretty easygoing about things now, but yeah, days like that, forget it.

Well something that started as a quick project on break has turned into an epic battle to stay awake after work.
If you haven't done so already, please make sure you see My friend's kickstarter website Andy's CDs

Garon has been a dear friend of mine since the 12th grade. While my parents were going through the divorce, me being alienated from a lot of my friends due to a bad break up and then the start of a relationship between my then best friend and my ex boyfriend. Garon was one of the few VERY close very dear friends that I confided in, and he always made me feel better. He would always tell me "I am going to show all of these people they are wrong about me. I am going to go to LA and I am going to write scripts. I'm going to make it." Anytime he and I talk it's like we pick up where we left off, even though we haven't seen each other in years. One of the things I always told him is that I had faith that he would make it to LA some day, except when it started to look like he was giving up, then I told him "no, I don't think you'll make it." And he said "I'll show you" and had all of his stuff in a moving van a month later. (Somewhat true story! I don't know if it was I who had convinced him to get off his arse and go, but I know he split soon afterward.) He swore he'd never forgive me for losing faith in him. But then we talked. And argued like a feral cat and dog. I don't know if he forgave me or not, but I know it's no longer a big deal. He made it to LA 12 years ago, and he's a much happier person for it.

When he lived here, I would come pick him up every night around 9ish, we'd go to a movie, then around midnight we'd go play tag at an abandon playground, sometimes with friends, sometime alone. I had a crush on him then, but now I think of him like the younger brother I never had. We aren't close anymore, not really. But I promised him that I'd always be there and I'd NEVER give up faith in him again. To this day, I haven't. I won't, either. Garon has proved to me that anything he sets his pen, heart and mind to, will happen.
Garon is one of those people that I look to and I think, "God, what have I done with these last 12 years?" I had some kids, he went out to LA and maybe he didn't make it BIG ,but he's trying.
He's got other cheerleaders now. He's got other close friends who take care of him, but I'm back here in the shadows doing everything I can to make sure he succeeds. Maybe you know him, maybe you don't know him. But he's a very important person in my life, and he deserves your praise and money.
Even a dollar helps. And I'm broke now.

I'm going to take my goalless deflated self to bed now before I become a blabbering fool at the keyboard. Oh, too late.

Music I'm obsessing on this week 6/1-6/7/2011

Yeah, you didn't ask, you're gonna get it anyway.

Previous albums in listed in this section would be, (if this selection had existed before now)
Little Big Planet OST(apparently no longer available for purchase from Amazon.)

Aerial- Kate Bush
Mirrored - Battles
Court and Spark- Joni Mitchell
Songs For Dustmites- Steve Burns

This weeks- (or in some cases, MONTHS) Music Du Jour (Yes I know Du Jour means of the day, but forgive me)

1. Passion Pit- Manners [Vinyl]

Here I have chosen the Vinyl Version of this Album, because YES I remember vinyl. And I think it's cool that a modern band still offers vinyl.

Passion Pit is awesome beyond words. And I don't have to tell you. They exude awesomeness.
I'm sure you're not going to just take my word for it.
This band is tight musically and vocally. Although they do always sing in falsetto, so if that bugs you, you may want to check out one of my other suggestions. Their lyrics are interesting, sweet, lovely and thought provoking.
It is electronic, which is somewhat a new genre for me. This whole album just has a funky GROOVE to it. Michael Angelakos has a beautiful and haunting quality to his voice, and does not look AT ALL how I pictured him. Either case, their music is really unique and should be checked out by everyone.

2. Aimee Mann- Bachelor No. 2

Here I have chosen the SACD version of this album, and should it happen to be mailed to me anonymously I would be eternally in anonymous' debt forever.
The thing about the SACDs that I remember as a kid making the pilgrimage down the 14 steps to my Brother's room in the basement, finding the coveted "Dark Side of the Moon" SACD, sneaking back up the stairs quietly as not to wake the sleeping beast, then popping this sucker into my walkman with headphones and writing in the computer room.
They have the very best sound quality around, they also have this mechanism which is... well very hard to describe. It's a little lift. It has a spindle in the middle. Oh, and the disk is gold.
Anyway, about the actual album now.

Bachelor No. 2, to My ear anyhow, is Aimee Mann's most solid work since her Til Tuesday days. Although she is a fantastic writer, the lyrics of these songs speak to me more than others and I just love this album. It's a great, "I need to do the dishes and I need to clean the house but I do not feel motivated to do so" sort of album. You just kind of automatically move to it. I LOVE this quality in an album. But it's also the kind when you are sitting at home, you can just sit and veg out. The lyrics pull you in and give you a ride to somewhere else. Check it out, but by all means, if you can't afford the gold version, get the cheap one. Strangely enough, this album is ALSO available in vinyl.

3. Death Cab for Cutie- Something About Airplanes [Vinyl]


Again, in vinyl. Pick up a CD or a MP3 copy if you don't have one of those new fangled... whatcha call em, record players! :)

This is Death Cab's inaugural work, originally produced in 1998, it features the Woodland instrument-like vocals of Ben Gibbard, who is both folksy and haunting. This album seems to tell a story to me. I LOVE albums that tell me a story. My favorite artist growing up with Kate Bush, and my favorite album of hers was Hounds of Love. But on that album there's a whole second half called "The Ninth Wave" which is this beautiful confusing story about a woman who falls into the ice and is reborn.
This album, although a very different story, reminds me of that Kate Bush album. It doesn't sound anything like it, but it's so cohesive... it's just really beautiful. Ben could sing the phone book to me and I'd likely be hooked. It's like how Kate can sing the numbers of Pi and keep my attention throughout the whole song. I realize Death Cab just came out with a new album. I do not yet own it. Someone should remedy that for me. ;)

In the meantime, Happy Listening!



2.

How I survived several weeks with a sinus headache.

Well, the past few weeks have been interesting and busy. I usually do not schedule more than 2-3 events on any given day for fear that I will not make said events. So my average day of dropping Evan to the bus, the other kids and Paul to Nana's, then taking myself to work are about max on what I'd like to do per day.
Well, apparently the insanity bug hit me somewhere in there.
I decided somewhere in there that I was superwoman or something.
I hit the brick wall, the big huge brick wall of life in the form of an allergy attack.
Not just a normal one, but the "have a constant headache for 2 weeks running" sort of allergy attack.
And I did all my normal things at first. The Neti Pot and massive amounts of vitamin C (2000 MG per day, or as much as you can stand to listen to that album. Which for me was about .001%)
Memorial Day came up in there somewhere, and we were away on vacation, which interrupted things, but I wasn't really feeling the headache those days. It was still there but I was willing it away by sheer power, force, remember, I am SHE-RA! Ok, so I'm not... but lets pretend for a moment I am.
I mean, on our vacation I rode a horse named Belle, who was all white like She-Ra's horse. However, I regret to say only resembled "Swift Wind" when she farted. I suppose to be fair we'll say I didn't really "ride" her so much as lead her on a horse drawn carriage. And when I say "lead" it was more like she already knew the route and struggled the whole time against me to try to pass her friend horse Bud, thinking, I suppose that she was in a race for the final apple at the stables.
And previous to that, I did find a lost little boy, grant you, the lost little boy was MY little boy who had wandered off looking for his big sister Lily and myself. But hey, I wasn't worried. I mean we were on Mackinac Island, it's not like the kid could get off of the island without me. *sarcasm* The important thing is that we were all reunited, and I had to resist the urge to kill him.
I climbed Castle Rock, that should count for something. Yes, it was stairs, but Christ, have you seen those stairs? By the time I got to the top my vision was blurry and doubled, and there was a fog around the whole scene, (and no, the horse wasn't there so I couldn't say it was her "Swift Wind" at all.)
Oh, and transporting 3 children 4 hours to the straits and 6 hours from Tahquamenon Falls... that should count for something.
Ok, so the baby didn't come with us, he stayed with his Nana who graciously offered to take him for the weekend.

Anyhow, back to the attack of doom!
Yeah, so the headache on Monday came back as we came down south. I think it's the pollen honestly.
Tuesday was bearable, although it got progressively worse at work. I forced myself to go swimming in the morning, just a few laps to keep myself in shape before work and I think it helped.
Wednesday came and I felt like utter crap. I went swimming again, but this time i brought the husband, kids and friend. I still felt like utter crap. I'm allergic to chlorine I don't know how this fact always seems to escape me in the summer, so I was a snotty mess by the time we left the pool. My friend's son developed blisters from the amount of chlorine used in the pool. Evan ended up being late to school over that whole rigamarole. We went to my in laws. I felt like I could be upright but I didn't really feel up to much else. The next day came and I still felt like crap. I got a doctors appointment so that I could get a work excuse.
They gave me a new nose spray, which did help considerably. But Friday the gunk moved into my lungs and caused me to be feverish all day. I don't think I got out of bed except to call the doctor and beg that they extend my work excuse.
which they did, EVENTUALLY, but only after 2 calls.
Saturday I woke up feeling Pseudo-human. A far cry from She-Ra, but it was going to have to do.
we went over to Nana's, because that's what we usually end up doing around here.
Set up the tent to sweep it out, then had to tear it down in a hurry due to an approaching thunderstorm. Oh and of course an epic squirt gun fight between me, Evan (my 6 year old) Paul and My brother in law. (Who said I cry when I'm squirted in the face with a squirt gun... which I would like to address by going on the record and saying "No, I do not!" Neener Neener :P take that Uncle Mike.)
The kids stayed over at Nana's that night, Paul and I went to frozen yogurt then came home exhausted. Paul attempted to make me tea, then fell asleep while it was steeping. I woke up at 4am expecting to find him next to me, when I didn't I panicked. He fell asleep on the couch, I found him frantically shaking the sleep out of his head while he washed the egg poacher. Then we had a relaxing morning that went into the mid afternoon quite by accident.

Then came the epic idea. The beach!!!
So, we go and retrieve the kids from Nana's house, (begrudgingly, they wanted to go to Mocha Mountain)
I never thought I would have to BEG any child of mine to go the beach, but the major selling factor was "There will be beach volleyball!" and somehow this appealed to the boys. Away we went.
We got there in the heat of the day and parked in the furthest possible spot, not by choice but because it WAS the only spot. We hiked in, sun blocked up and began our decent into the water, or at least the two oldest boys did. Mom and Dad set up the blanket, snacks, and the baby tent. (Dad has been unusually helpful recently, I don't think he likes all the public attention/ridicule.)
There are only like, 2 maybe 3 people in the world that will get why this is funny and one of them lacks the memory of the original event...
Eugene, Kitty... I went to Silver Lake for the first time in 16 years... and THIS time, I did not manage to get horribly lost! I did not end up on I-96! And I did NOT end up at a rest area several miles from our house. This should be commended.

We did very nearly bring home a pet turtle who tried to swim up my and Tommy's swim suit. He was a very cute little turtle, but ultimately he belonged in the lake.
The kids wanted to bring him home so badly. Nana said he can come visit them via the creek that runs next to her house. That is, if he can find the way.

Sanity

People keep asking me how I "tick", how is it I remain sane enough to continue functioning on a pseudo normal level.

So here are a few things I do when I have time to help my sanity remain intact.

First of all, and I know I've mentioned this before, but I'm mentioning it again: it's just that important.

Hypnosis CDs from Dan Gordon, the best Hypnotist EVAR.  

Hypnosis Works!

This is reserved for times of extreme stress, like this weekend, after the wedding, the birthday party, my daughter telling me some things about her life at home, Paul's two seizures, yeah, this was a CD sort of weekend.

But other things I do?

Well I am blessed to live in Ann Arbor, land of the free, home of the strange.

So, when the going gets tough, the tough have Tea, at Teahaus

Then go smoke a Hookah.

Hit the Hot Tubs

Travel near and far.  I like the UP, but it's a long drive, I do enjoy Gallup Park which is an alternative a few minutes from my house, and the kids like it because the play structure there is very unique.   They also have canoeing, which isn't terribly exciting to children my kids ages, but it is for older kids.

Sometimes just taking a walk and getting outside of your headspace is very beneficial to your sanity.

Also, in order to keep stuff together as far as family functions, especially for those who's memories give out at random I like to use Google calendar , which will text you when you are getting ready to miss things.

A supportive family and friend network who is willing to help, their your friends and family, don't be afraid to ask when you really need them.

To sleep perchance to dream... of sleeping.

Well, this was a super long weekend.
Ok, so int actuality it was very short. Almost too short.
Saturday we went to a wedding, it was also Tom's birthday. Sunday was Tom's birthday party.
I should have known how things were going to go this weekend.

First we got a call from the camp ground, we are going on vacation next weekend like half of the world.
They asked if we wanted lake front. After the past few months? HELL YEAH.

We only went to the reception, getting children to sit still at a wedding is much like getting them to load the dishwasher.
While at the reception, I got an IM from a very dear friend from my past, asking frantically "Are you ok?" It was Saturday, (Apocalypse Day for those who have been trying to forget) so I just assumed it was his Jewish worry gene kicking into over time which it does from time to time. I IMed him back saying "yes, we are all fine. I'm at a wedding right now though, we'll chat later."

Then Dan and Evan played the spinny game on the dance floor. Evan let go of Dan, Dan went flying head first into the dance floor. He got a huge bruise. After that, (and much discussion about how the cars were going to be laid out, about 3 or 4 different times) decisions were made. My in laws took the kids, we took my brother and sister in law home, (they were in from Chicago, not Uncle Mike, our Nanny extraordinaire. He's not married for all you single gals out there looking for a kindly man to watch their kids.)

Eventually we decided to go home, we made our way to the car. Took part in the sort of conversation that you just bear witness and agree. (Because even the most successful business folks need others to believe in them, and we've never STOPPED believing in them.)

I got everyone home in one piece. Sunday, I got up right at 8, (because you know, with the smaller children gone I could have actually slept in a little...) I had told my in laws I'd be there at 9am. I tried to wake Lily, NADA, I tried to wake Paul, same result.
I shrugged. I can't leave them alone with one another due to previous agreements, I needed ONE of them to come with me. So, 10 passed around and I finally got them both awake, dressed and out the door.
Got a text that the tent I was eyeing went on sale.

Got to my in laws at 11, 2 hours past when I was supposed to be there. Oh well.
We had forgotten to eat breakfast today, so in our running around trying to get everything ready for the micro-party we had for Tom at my in laws, Paul had a seizure. Tonic clonic (Gran mal), may have hit his head on the toilet, bad seizure.

He came to and went to bed. The party went on. The kids, Meg, Apollo (her son who is a day and a half older that Tom) and Keegan (who is 6 months older than Dan) All had a great time with squirt guns and sharing baby food.
We were fed, I checked on Paul, he was fine.

By the time cake time came, Meg had to go and Paul came to again. (we'll leave out the part where Meg and I put up the new tent I had bought and the kids rolled it around the yard, ASSEMBLED.)
Paul came down for cake, picture were taken, all was fine.

Paul was running around with the kids in no time and then BLAM! Another Tonic Clonic. An ambulance was called, as was Lily's father who had to come out to Ann Arbor.
and tests were run, and nothing was decided... ya know, the normal thing

They said his levels were on the low end of normal, his blood sugar was low, his temp was not really staying stable...
Finally they let him come home. And now here we are... and I have an appointment for Tabbers in a few hours at his doctors... UGH, why did I sign up for this gig again? :)

I want a cigarette

So, for those of you who follow my Buzz, twitter or Facebook feeds, you know I witnessed a beating this evening.

I am not going to give details, I do not know these people. But I did call 9-1-1, and the police were amazingly fast.

The lady seems no worse for wear, shaken up, but no worse for wear. The dude ducked into some apartment, but wasn't smart enough to keep himself concealed there, he poked his head out when he thought I wasn't there, I saw him. I told the dispatcher. Then waited for additional squad cars to appear. They sent 3 total.

I kept thinking of a few friends of mine that have been beaten in their past, I thought of my past. I thought of how I would have liked it if someone had stepped in when things happened to me. I thought of my daughter and my sons and how if someone was beating one of them I would want someone to step in. I walked out without my shoes knowing my feet were going to hurt. I didn't know if the guy was going to come after me. I don't know that he won't come after me if he sees me walking down the street.
I didn't think twice.

The point is, every life is one that should be taken into account. You can't just sit back and do nothing. You have to go out there, you HAVE to observe, no matter how painful, no matter what flashbacks you see in your head. It's gonna make you cry, let it.
Because, if you see someone being beaten, they do not necessarily have the strength to call the police or to tell anyone what's going on. People who are being abused are afraid. This is how their abuser can get away with it.

So if you see it going on, you call the police and you stay close by until you get to talk to them. They need to know. And yes, the lady I saw may deny everything. May say I must have been seeing things... but she may not, this may have been just the break she needed to get away from whomever it was who was beating her.

But the fact is, on the quiet nights when she thinks "it never happened and I'm crazy." She can think back and say "She saw it, she watched it all happen, and she cared enough to call someone for help."

And sometimes, that's the one thought that keeps a victim from falling into a deep depression, or worse.

No pacifier? No problem!

On the way home this evening Tom decided to do his best impression of a Velociraptor. I will tell you he makes a convincing one. He's got the shriek down, I'm surprised he hasn't shattered the windows of our car.

We forgot to bring a pacifier with us from Nana's house.

I did not bring the iPod to put on soothing music, (because if VelocirapTOM can be calmed by anything it is classical music) all we were left with were the unattractive choices of (a) one of Dan's Mario toys - which he guards as though he were Fort Knox and Mario was made of gold, (b) Evan's Backpack which in general makes a poor chew toy, or (c) Mommy's nearly 2 month old Android phone.

Naturally, I chose the phone.

I mean, it's got a protective case on it. It's chewy, its (mostly) waterproof...
and so, I picked the least obtrusive app I could, the news and weather. I left it on weather and handed the phone to Tom.
and he sat, and he stared at it. He stared at it nearly the whole way home. You could almost see the wheels in his head turning.
"What am I gonna do with this?" he thought.

Then he discovered something, if he waved it, it was as though the light coming from the phone bent in dancing waves, either that, or he knows that this phone is a much sought after toy of his older brothers. He sat there, waving it at them, making it dance, until we rounded the corner to home, and I told Paul, "The amazing thing is, he hasn't even tried to put it in his mouth!" Dan asked me if he could play Youtube videos on my phone after Tom was done. I wanted to say yes, but at the same time I was kind of relishing the baby giving him the "in your face" victory phone dance. I should mention here that I am by far the youngest of 3 children.

Yeah, Paul was right, I shouldn't have said anything.

He put it in his mouth. The phone is no worse for wear, but yeah, the top of it was a gloopy, baby slobbered mess.

Go, youngest baby, GO! Extract your judgement upon all other rival babies!
Ok, so my husband, (middle child in every sense of the word) wouldn't agree. Saying "That isn't fair, Mommy, every kid should get a turn." Let 'em use your phone, dude... The Mama phone is ONLY for the youngest... or people who were formerly the youngest... erm... I guess that's everyone isn't it?

The following are merely my views, if you don't agree, don't post here because I don't care and I'll erase any trolling or flaming responses made. You don't have to agree with me but lets follow kindergarten rules, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all.

Saturday is the Apocalypse, says some old dude.
I am due at a wedding that day, and it's my youngest son's birthday. I'm sorry, Jesus, you're gonna have to wait, I'm booked up solid until 8pm at least. I can't give you your Tarot reading or help you pick gemstones, dance around a bonfire OR do yoga with you until at least 9pm. According to some old dude, 6pm is the time you're choosing... But if you wanna do any of those fun things we planned on for that post-apocalypse-strava-ganza we talked about a while back. It's Garon's birthday, too. You're gonna have to wait until the next day before you put Cali into the ocean. Garon's too good a guy and has worked too hard to NOT see his 31st, besides, it wouldn't be fair to let me suffer through my 31st and not make him suffer through his.
I've got too many former classmates and good friends over in Cali. You're just gonna have to "Atlas" that sucker up until they all get off the island. Hope you brought lunch, and a fan, you're gonna be there a while.

As for me and mine, Jesus, I'm not concerned. You aren't bringing me or my family up there with ya. Not without a fight. My kids are scientists. They wanna see how the world works and the sterile streets of heaven are no place for scientific children. NO mud puddles, no worms, a complete lack of gross and icky. They live by the golden rule, because the truth of the matter is when you have 3 siblings, you HAVE to be nice to all of them. Otherwise the others team up on you and you end up with gross and icky in your bed. My dear Jesus, we have far too many dirty diapers around these parts to not live by the golden rule, otherwise the golden rule becomes a golden shower from the baby!

We have far too much work going on down here, we are still figuring out all these crazy ass puzzles that you and your Pops put down here how many ever years ago.
So Jesus, the Pagan rite to make you a Wiccan can wait. The visit to the Synagogue and the Mosque and the Temple, too. You can skip out on the Interfaith Community Centers, but do Jesus, do visit those who are in it for their own gain. Do visit those who are worried only for their finances and not for the rest of humankind. Do make them understand the error of their ways. Let them see and understand Karma really IS a well, Female Dog... bring those "Christians", who wear your religion like a hat, with you because we sure as hell don't need them down here. Let 'em live up in heaven, let them have the good life and let the rest of us "suffer" down here in our perfectly imperfect world. We like it here. And let us all understand the meaning of Peace and Love for ALL HUMANKIND NOW.
As for me, I'm going to bed. I'm gonna rest easy knowing that on Saturday everything is going to be exactly the same, I'm gonna be woken up a minimum of 3 times overnight and I'm gonna stumble to my husband's cousin's wedding half awake and hope that I do not snore during the ceremony.

A restful sleep

I am going to state again for the record that this is meant to be a comical retelling of the night's events, and should in no way be interpreted as a gripe session. I am grateful for the help I receive from friends and family, and I'm just happy we are all together. Also the links you see throughout this article are meant to enhance the comedic effect, so CLICK! With those disclaimers, lets go forward.

So last night, after all the kids went to bed I decided to put in one of my hypnotism CDs. This particular one was for building confidence and boosting the quality of my sleep.
An old high school pal, Dan Gordon, made it for me. He runs a business down in Florida, Hypnosis Works. And you know what, it really helped me. I felt immediately more confident, and exhausted I went to bed my pillow feeling like a heavenly cloud under my weary head.
Why I last night would be any different than any other night, I do not know. But I was hopeful for the future, and for my attempt into Dreamy-ville.

And so, when 4am came and Tom, (who is days from a year old) did his usual nightly sabbatical of waking up at 4am and not calming until he is brought to Mommy's room. I nudged my sleeping husband to get him, because after all, I'm still trying to make it back to Dreamy-ville before Captain McDreamy sails away to Caribbean Cruise-ville. But, as usual the sleeping husband did not rouse. And so I trudged sleepily to the crib where my youngest son was convinced he was being held captive.

And usually, that's the end of the ritual, I grab him up, put him in bed with me until he falls asleep again, then he is magically transported back to his crib. (ok, not so magically, I get back up and take him there.) Sometimes though, I beat him back to sleep, and on those nights he stays with me and Paul, (aforementioned sleeping husband.)

I'm going to stop the story here for a second to explain something.

My husband has epilepsy, has had it all of his life. The past 3 years he's been something of a wonder, every now and again he'll get it in his head, somewhere, FAR beyond the reaches of his consciousness decides "ok, DISCO-TIME!"
Disco-time can be any time to Paul's Subconscious. Sleep and sex are the two prime times. But the disco-tech inside of Paul's subconscious isn't that picky. Sometimes choosing work AND occasionally the grocery store as prime disco-time.
This has earned the poor guy the nickname "Twitch" from me.
The important things to know from these past 4 years are this: He's in remission of sorts now, we are going on the 6 month mark on June 22nd. But it was found while he was in the hospital last August that although he was in a sleeping position, he was NEVER sleeping. He was having hardly detectable seizures every couple of minutes.
Well, he's been making up for lost sleep recently, (the past year). When he isn't on the computer or visiting family, he's asleep. Sometimes sleeping during the aforementioned activities. (wow, that's aforementioned mentioned twice in a blog post? Someone call the blog police!! HA, that's 3 times!! Take that, Coppers!) Ok, so basically what I'm trying to say is that it's not his fault he's practically Narcoleptic.

Anyway, back to last night.

After grabbing Tom, I drifted easily back off to sleep. Then Dan woke up, Dan is 4, great about knowing when to use the potty, and in general my more "sensitive" child. He calls out, at the top of his lungs of course, "MOMMY!"
"Yes Dan," I say, in my sleep.
"TURN THE CLASSICAL MUSIC CHANNEL OFF OF MY TV! I want NICK JR NOW!"
I look at the clock, 4:15 am.
I comply, stumbling sleepily back to the boys room. Change the channel, go back to my warm bed.
I start to drift off again thinking, "Ah yes, now I'm going to sleep and maybe Paul will have heard all of this and handle the rest of the evening."
LOL
Dan again 4:30,
"I NEED THE POTTY! NOW!"
Usually this is not something he announces.
So I figure it had to have been some sort of emergency.
I nudge my husband. Say "Dan needs help in the potty," I say
He rolls halfway out of bed, then eventually gets himself the rest of the way out, then stomps his way to the bathroom. I hear the flushing, Dan's little footsteps back to his room, then I allow myself to drift back to sleep.
"MAKE THE SCARY NOISE GO AWAY MOMMY!!!" Says Dan, again, 15 minutes later.
Paul's asleep again, beyond the point of waking. There is no scary noise that I can detect.
I stumble into Dan's room. I stand there for a few minutes watching him watch TV. He's not sleeping. He's not even trying. Big brown eyes staring at the screen. No scary noises, but I notice Evan is attempting to sleep but rolling around a bit.

Evan is my 6 year old. He's rough at tumble and doesn't care if he pees his pants, I think he takes glee in my doing his laundry. (It should be noted here that we do not have our own laundry machines. So laundry is a real ordeal around these parts.)
He's all wrapped up in the comforter, and I detect a slight wet spot.
SO I wake him up.
"But I'm too lazy to get up and use the potty."
"You're using the potty, get up." I say
I pull him out of bed, pull off his pants, meanwhile he's screaming like someone is trying to murder him. Finally I get him to shove off to the potty.
He goes and I swear he spent 5 minutes peeing.
I remove the stinky pee blanket, put new blankets on the children unceremoniously, then collapse in a heap on my bed.

8 am comes around. Grant you, I was up until 130 listening to the hypnosis CD, and Paul waited up for me, so I know I didn't get to bed when I was supposed to. So I did bring this all onto myself. I ask my poor husband to get up with the baby who is now next to his ear screaming his displeasure at being awake. Diaper as wet as it can be before it leaks. Hungry. Paul can't seem to wake up. I explain to him, trying VERY hard to not lose my temper, that I was up with children for half of the night so the very least I feel he can do is diaper and feed the wee one.
He complies, grouchily.
Now he's another peculiar thing he does. I set him on a task, such as feed and diaper the baby. He will do that task, ONLY that task, then come back to bed. Whereas if I am given a task such as "Feed the baby" or "take the dog for a walk" I will do that task, and any other related task. Such as "If Dan is awake, feed and drink Dan, if Evan is awake, make sure he has clean clothes on then feed and drink him." I think that the latter is how most folks do things.
Not Paul.
If the task is not on his list, to heck with the task, back to bed. Meanwhile I've got boys in the living room, yes ALREADY, playing video games.
9 AM comes along. Tom is screaming from his prison cell, the boys are arguing over who's turn it is with the Xbox 360 Paul is snoring next to me.
I know it's my turn.

I get up, start writing. Get interrupted 10 times. Get up, make the sleeping Paul some breakfast which I deliver to him IN BED because I still somehow believe in Karma and that SOMEDAY I will get all of the breakfasts in bed that I have given out. Breakfast is done by 1045am, I bring it to Paul saying "Here's bribery, please wake up and help me with these kids so that I can write this blog entry I'm working on."
And Dan G's words resonate with me today "If you are listening to this at bed time, when I snap my fingers you will drift off to a restful sleep."

By popular demand: Mother's Day 2011

First and foremost, please do not see this as a bitch session, it is not, it is merely a retelling of events, not meant to make anyone feel pity for me or evoke feelings of sorrow or regret, moreover it is meant in a comical sense and should if anything make folks giggle.

Mother's Day has come around here again.
There's a lyric from a song that I think is more appropriate:
"Once a year the holidays come swinging at your head..." I think it's more appropriate.

Every year, my husband mysteriously contracts some sort of illness, whether he has a seizure the night before, or has a cold, or strep, or the polka dot flu, he's always ill for Mother's Day, never fails.  Even if I kept him in a Zorb for the previous 3 weeks a head of time, he would probably have a seizure or something and end up in a full body cast.  Either case, he's always really sick and can't get out of bed for the day.  Oh, and for those who are wondering, yes, this is the same case for Father's Day.

This holiday cannot go off without any hitch.  It's always something.  It could be that my lot is so young, it could be that we think Mother's day means "Day for Mother to excel at being a Mom by being presented with new and interesting challenges."  Maybe that's what Hallmark meant when they created this holiday... I don't know.

My ex used to be fond of telling me, "I don't believe in any one particular day for Mothers. I believe we should shower them in gifts all throughout the year."  And then, didn't.  And then, the first year of our divorce denied me parenting time on Mother's Day saying that Lily had to "spend the time with her Grandmother." that year.  So, the night before I went out to a late dinner with my friends, we took a wrong turn and ended up in Chicago.
I called my Mother from Chicago, to wish her a Happy Mother's Day!  Ya know, like you do....
And I got yelled at for being in Chicago, she said "why aren't you spending time with Lily!" and I told her, and she didn't believe that there was nothing else that I could have done to get Lily.  Thank goodness over time my Mother understood that my life is just too damned bizarre and that I could in no possible way make up half of the crap that happens in my presence.

So, here's the typical low down, I will reemphasize the importance of the fact that I am very grateful for the time I DO get.  I love my family and all of that, and as a matter of fact am  taking time out of my busy day to write about them.  As the baby screams in the other room in a futile attempt at napping and the other 3 argue over various Nintendo DS related issues.  And the husband snores, over on the bed five feet from me.  The nice warm one that I'd like to crawl into for the week.

So, we'll use today as a for instance.
Last night was abysmal, attempted to go to a party for my dear older brother, where my husband proved to be an embarrassment before he and I both got too ill to continue visiting.  It was a Steampunk party, I had been told by others that my ren fair garb would be almost correct for going, so I donned that and went in... and Looked like a complete freak in comparison...  So as I attempted to become 3 inches tall and visit with people I haven't seen in damn near 10 years... my husband goes up to the DJ table where my brother is DJing and decides to not once, not twice, but 3 times draw attention to himself and myself, and my beautiful but hormonal daughter self.  (I should mention, he was dressed very Guy Noir, so he wasn't quite right either!) 
So, I exit, QUICKLY mind you, VERY QUICKLY and dragging my husband and daughter along.  I call my friend to ask her to keep an eye on Lily because I needed to have a discussion with Paul...
So she did.  And Paul and I discussed, and he felt 3 inches tall, so I chalked that one up as a win in my column.
But I was hungry, and so I gathered Paul and we went to dinner.  Ate, and he kept saying how cold he was...
But we needed stuff from Meijer, so we continued.
By the end of it it was quite clear Paul was ill.
So away to home we rode.
and nyquil was had, and husband put to bed.

Morning came, and Lily came home, and so, I medicated Paul again and loaded the car, Lily, Misty (the dog) and myself into the car.
Halfway to my in laws, I decided to call my Mother in Law to warn her I was on my way.
And they were already on theirs. And so, I turned around.

Then we gathered inside.  My brother in law made a comment about needing to crack the window and needing to clean up.  It was to my children, who are 11, 6,4 and 11 months.  Yeah, they aren't cleaning.

And so, I made breakfast for my husband, for my daughter as well.  Poached eggs and toast. And of course, my daughter had never had poached eggs, she said she didn't like them, but she ate the toast gratefully.  I brought the food to my husband who said "Why'd you do this?"  And no doubt due to guilt or what not. 
 I rolled my eyes.  Sick people have to be fed.  Viruses don't know what day it is. 
Telling myself this has helped over time.  Kids don't know the date.
ok, so they do...
And they took today to argue about everything.  The 4 year old pulling Lily's fort down,  The 6 year old peed his pants while watching the 11 year old play the 6 year old's favorite game on Xbox.

The baby was hungry.  I put him in his high chair while the Lily's breakfast sat and got cold.
I gave Tom some little meat sticks, some fruit, and as I finished making myself breakfast, Paul attempted to become an upright member of society.
I chased him back to bed, but was so distracted while doing so that I jelly'd both halves of my toast.
The baby was done, to signal his completion, he shrieked, and shrieked and shrieked some more... Lily threw a teenaged tantrum, ran to her bedroom, slammed the door, and my breakfast now sat on the table getting cold.  Then I remembered I didn't have coffee, and I wanted coffee... Tassimo out of cartrages, I had to make a pot.  So I did this while feeding the baby... and making a bottle...
and again, Paul attempted to get out of bed, I again chased him back, remembering to bring him juice.
So yeah, I finally got breakfast.  The only reason was because I let the children play Nintendo DS while I ate.
Otherwise I wouldn't have had any relative peace.  I say relative because there is ultimately 3 or four arguments that break out whilst the children play.
1) You won and I wanted to
2) I won and want to gloat about it
3) You won, but everybody cheated
and 4) (MY FAVORITE) You won because the computer cheated.  It's Paul's favorite, too.  It's the one he whines the most about when playing whatever game of his choice and immediately takes him from adult to 12 year old child.

And now, I sit, at my computer telling the children under threat of death, or at least extremely unpleasant circumstances, they should not come to me.  If one of them is stuck under something, they are instructed to saw the offending appendage off before coming into the sanctity of Mother's room.  If they are injured, the eldest is to put them all on her bike and ride them to the nearest emergency room, if they are tired, they should sleep GODDAMNIT and if they are tired and come whining to me they will be fed to the dragon that I have manifested under my bed for such a purpose.
And so, It is, RELATIVELY quiet.
With this comical tale, I remind everyone to appreciate and love your Mother's.
And THANK THEM.
A bunch, for not feeding YOU to the Dragon under THEIR bed.