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.