I really wish I could credit Sam Worthington with this one. Instead, I thank Target.
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I really wish I could credit Sam Worthington with this one. Instead, I thank Target.
Posted from WordPress for Android
Posted in advocate, CFS, Chronic Fatigue, fibromyalgia, marriage, migraines, Pain, silliness, Working Mom, tagged Clash of the Titans, Conditions and Diseases, Health, Medical Specialties, Medicine, Medusa, Muscle, Pain, Pain management, Perseus, Physical exercise, Sam Worthington, Titan on August 4, 2013 | 1 Comment »
… like, never dude. I haven’t cried from pain in a while but today did me in. Something felt like it wanted to rip a muscle right out of my neck. It was downright scary. It ended up easing up after several minutes. I don’t even know how long it lasted. Thank God my husband was here. If it didn’t stop being as excruciatingly sharp and painful when it did I was going to beg to go to the ER.
When it did let up I couldn’t hold my head up. I held up my arm and the pain went down as far as my elbow. It felt like I had been lifting weights. I’m still sore as if I pulled a muscle, and there’s a headache now that won’t go away. I’m not sure if it’s from the neck … um … issue? or the weird almost-thunderstorm that passed by.
I do have to say that Sam Worthington is making my day much more bearable. Clash of the Titans is on TNT. Oh shush. I love him. He’s my boyfriend. And if Perseus really existed he would rip that pain right out of me just like he ripped off the head of Medusa. Okay, maybe he sliced it off. And I know it wasn’t like a precision cut or anything but in any case he would make things better. All that demigodliness. I
Also, maybe it’s just that I feel like giving up today but I really want some crab Rangoon. Delicious fried Chinese take-out goodness with that uber-unhealthy red sauce. And some real bacon. That’s what I want. If I’m going to be in pain anyway then why can’t I eat like shit? Give up the vegetarianism and healthy food? Which brings me to something else. After fasting I had my blood test. I mentioned that before. What I didn’t mention is that my cholesterol was STILL too high. In the upper end of normal, but away from being in the danger zone by only 1 point. My good cholesterols were too low. My blood sugar was too high too. I’m a tad frustrated.
Perseus would know what to do. Plus he would go and get me some Chinese take-out, bacon from IHoP, and he’d also anticipate my desire for Ben & Jerry’s Late Night Snack ice cream. He would buy me three containers of the B&J’s ice cream so that we could share one tonight, and then I’d still have some for later in the week. He would also think ahead and put the kids to bed for me so that I wouldn’t have to share with them. Because he’s a hero. While I’m at it, he could talk to his father Zeus and see about making this shiznit Fibro go away. Poof.
And then I would let him play on the PS2 with Manny.
Posted in ADD, advocate, ASD, autism, Classic Autism, daughters, motherhood, parenting, Sensory Integration Disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder, SID, silliness, SPD, Working Mom, tagged Arts, Flappy, Gracie, Humor, Music, Recreation on July 7, 2013 | Leave a Comment »
So sweet, this girl of mine. Gracie was looking for songs on YouTube on my phone that she can dance to. One song was completely annoying, but it got her going and she loved it so much that she starting hopping. Pretty soon, she was flapping her hands in the air as fast as she could.
Here she was, bouncing and flapping to a song that I suddenly no longer found annoying, and I said,
“You sure look like you’re having fun! How flappy!”
While still bouncing and flapping, she smiled and said,
“It feels so weird! It is WEIRD!”
“Weird is awesome, huh?”
“It is WEIRD!” ::giggles::
And she kept on flapping.
I have to admit, I love seeing her hopping and bouncing and flapping. Let me clarify. Most of the time I love seeing her hopping and bouncing and flapping because it means she’s happy, excited, and really enjoying whatever is happening. It often accompanies giggles and happy exclamations. It’s usually pure joy. I encourage it as much as possible. Anything to see that smile in her entire face.
Of course sometimes the hopping and bouncing and flapping accompanies a meltdown and then it’s not so sweet or joyful. There’s screeching, incomplete sentences in the form of shrieking, lashing out with fists and feet, and the term “whirling dervish” has been used.
At other times, she’s being impatient and it’s a sign of excited anticipation. The key is that there’s always some excited energy involved.
In either case, don’t approach her. The flappiness and bouncing and whirling must be self-contained. You have to keep your distance out of her bubble or she feels claustrophobic. That can escalate a happy into a meltdown.
As you can imagine, she loves jumping on mattresses. :-)
Posted in ADD, ADHD, advocate, American Tradition, ASD, autism, Classic Autism, daughters, Fibro Fog, holidays, life, motherhood, ODD, Oppositional Defiant Disorder, parenting, PDD, PDD-NOS, Sensory Integration Disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder, silliness, SPD, women, Working Mom, tagged ASD, autism, Autism spectrum, Child, Family, fireworks safety, holiday safety, July 4th, Parent, parenting, PDD, Sensory Integration Disorder on July 4, 2013 | Leave a Comment »
I meant to reblog this earlier in the week. It’s a holiday safety post for families with special needs children that have Autism Spectrum Disorder and Sensory Processing Disorder with tips on how to prepare for a more pleasant experience.
In case you were wondering, there weren’t any wild animals on my back porch. This time. It’s been very windy with big heavy gusts all day. In fact, there was a news report earlier that about 12,000 people in Connecticut are out of power due to high winds. Our back porch is closed in and the screen door that leads outside isn’t secured very well, so it bangs around sometimes. If it’s opened enough, an animal could come in looking for shelter. Birds sometimes come in through little holes in the screen. It’s really okay. I made my husband check.
Luckily the back doors are very secure so they can’t get into the house, but still.
There weren’t any streaks of blood either, so I’m fairly certain it wasn’t zombies either.
Posted in diverticulitis, family, life, motherhood, parenting, silliness, sisters, tagged Anna, Anneliese, Annoyance, Facebook, Gracie, Home, Mister, Relationships on June 12, 2012 | Leave a Comment »
I was driving with Anneliese (7 years old) and Gracie in the car after dropping the eldest girl off at middle school and were on the way back home to get them onto the bus. Out of nowhere, Anneliese deadpans:
“Sometimes people are just too nice. It’s so annoying.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nice people annoy me. You know, when people are ‘tooooooo niiiiice?’ That’s annoying. It makes me want to slap them and then walk away.” *~*
“Why would you say that?”
“Boys. All the boys that like me are SO NICE TO ME it’s annoying. They’re mean and rude and silly until they decide they’re in love with me and then they’re so nice it’s annoying.”
::after picking my jaw up from the floor in my head:: “Would you rather they pull your hair? ‘Oh hey, I like you so I’m going to punch you in the face and get your attention that way! Maybe you’ll punch me in the stomach and that’ll mean you like me too!’ Is that what you want? Or is this better… ‘Oh Anna, I love you so I’m going to stop trying to yank your skirt and give you chocolate instead! I won’t hurt you anymore, I’ll just try to make your butt fat! But that’s okay, I’ll love you whether you’re fat or skinny!”
She collapsed into giggles, and kept asking me to play both sides of the annoying-nice/loving-nice fence. I foresee very bad teen and college dating years. She’s going to go after the bad boys, isn’t she?
*~*DISCLAIMER: The Mister and I do not go around slapping people, each other, or our children. We don’t go around saying people are “too nice” and emphasize that people should be nice to each other and discourage violence. Just sayin’. ;-)
Oggi è un giorno triste. Le ragazze vogliono giocare sul Wii, mentre la musicaincessante videogioco mi spinge lentamente fuori dalla mia mente. Avrei preferitoavere tirato fuori le unghie piuttosto che avere i videogame in casa tutto il giorno.
Non aiuta il fatto che il maltempo sta facendo il mio corpo ferito. Sono scontroso per cominciare, anche se sto cercando di non darlo a vedere. Ho bisogno di una vacanza inuna bella, calda, soleggiata, isola privata dove ci sono uomini belli portando medeliziosi drink e snack tutto il giorno mentre ho letto libri sulla spiaggia.
Non ci sono telefoni cellulari. No televisione. Non ho figli. Stranieri solo giocandomusica soft, mi divertente e che mi rinfresco. Questo avrebbe dovuto durare un mese, naturalmente. Sarei anonima. Sarebbe stato tutto bello e sarei riuscita a dormire.
Idealmente vorrei essere pagato per questa vacanza.
Qualcuno ha i numeri vincenti della lotteria?
Posted in family, introspective, life, marriage, motherhood, parenting, silliness, women, tagged Arts, Cabernet, Cabernet Sauvignon, Chocolate, Comedy-drama, Facebook, marriage, Online Writing, Short story, Tudors, Twitter, Wine, Writing on April 30, 2012 | Leave a Comment »
I’ve often imagined being a rich, famous, and well respected author. I would use less words per sentence, but more flowery speech. I would say things like,
“My darling, I’m not quite sure that I agree with your assessment of this week’s The Tudors but I still respect you nonetheless. Perhaps my agent will be so kind as to set up a tea with the cast Sunday next and we can discuss each of our theories with them then.”
My list of book titles would be expansive.
Hmmm. I think I can turn several of those “book titles” into blog posts. Ding!
Posted in advocate, autism, cats, daughters, family, life, motherhood, parenting, Sensory Integration Disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder, silliness, SPD, tagged Bizarre, Fart, Flatulence, Flatulist, Gracie, Humor, Recreation, Silent film on March 17, 2012 | 2 Comments »
Someone in the house has been dropping silent but deadlies. I’ve been getting the same response I get when I ask who made a mess on the floor or who was sloppy in the bathroom:
“Twasn’t me, dear Mother. No, not I. I promise you, if it were I, I would tell you and own up to it. I might be embarrassed, but I promise, I traipse to the loo to do my gassy business.”
But then Gracie started assigning blame. Therein lies the mistake of the silent farter.
“NOT ME! I don’t know who it is! It was the cat!”
Of course I couldn’t outright catch her if the cats were right there and her gaseous bombs were silent.
Recently she’s taken to just outright insisting that she doesn’t fart at all. In fact, it’s a rule.
“Everyone else farts. I DON’T FLUFF! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”
I caught her earlier, but she denied, denied, denied and the cat was right there.
“IT. WAS. NOT. ME! I DON’T KNOW WHO! I. DON’T. FLUFF!”
Then it was just us and I HEARD HER. But I said nothing. I tapped her shoulder and fake-gasped. Shocked, she turned to me with big eyes and said:
“It wasn’t me!”
“What wasn’t you?”
“Uhhh… YOU LIAR!”
I learned a very valuable lesson today. I’ll let you know when I figure out what it is.
Posted in American Tradition, life, marriage, silliness, tagged Block, H&R Block, Internal Revenue Service, IRS tax forms, Property tax, Tax, Taxation, TurboTax, United States on February 21, 2012 | 3 Comments »
So the Mister has been pestering me to get the taxes done now now now do it NOW. We never have everything this early so I was skeptical when he handed me the folder stuffed full of documents and empty envelopes.
M “We could really use the money as soon as possible so please get this done and filed by tonight. I mean it.”
J “Are you sure?”
M “Of course. We’re all set.”
And of course I get to property taxes and we don’t have the car stuff.
J “Hey honey, where’s the car tax info thingie… stuff? I’m trying to do the property taxes.”
M “What do you mean?”
J “Where’s the paperwork saying what we paid in car taxes?”
M “At city hall.”
J “Honey, why isn’t it with the tax folder?”
M “Can’t you just guess based on last year?”
J “What if last year was a guess?” note: Please don’t audit me.
M “Guess again?”
J “How about we go to city hall tomorrow. I don’t think we should guess.”
M “By ‘we’ you mean ‘me’.”
J “I love you.”
I also love H&R Block. It’s reduced the stress quotient in the whole “doing your own taxes” thing exponentially. It makes it easy and user friendly and they’re great with customer loyalty. But you sort of have to be loyal if you like neat tricks like exporting the tax information from prior years into your current tax paperwork with ease.
I’m a bit of a freak, though. I enjoy doing taxes once we get past the whole, “I want to punch my husband in the face” stage. He saves every envelope known to man no matter how useless, torn to shreds, or empty it is in our tax paperwork. He includes bank and investor junk mail ie. paper spam in our tax folder for me to sort through. And those software update discs? I have three of them. They’re all the same, as in identical. Triplets. Why three? He even bundled them together for me. But in spite of this black hole of a folder that sucks in nearly everything in its path, he stuffs relevant receipts into his wallet. A year’s worth of receipts. And he doesn’t understand why you have to use the little envelopes the church provides when you make your offering. ::sigh:: Taxes. The church sends you a statement at the end of the year with your contributions to include in your effing taxes as a charitable donation.
Every year, something is briefly missing or we’re waiting for something or we forgot something or misplaced it. Every year I have to sift through the junk folder. One year there was a second folder. Every year I ask, “Are you sure?” in a teasing way because I know my husband. He was so insulted, but… well… you know. We’re us and we need to ask each other questions like that.