I vastly underestimated my Coochy

This stuff. The greatest shave cream evah. I ran out…thought I had more and was wrong.

What’d you think I meant?

Get your mind outta the gutter.

Hey Jen, what’s up with…???

Today Never a Dull Moment brings you Hey Jen, what’s up with…???, the newest and coolest collection of mental crap in the blogosphere. Ya heard it here first, folks.

Hey Jen, what’s up with the workers landscaping the new school? Beats the hell outta me. I’ve never seen such slow workers. They show up at 5:30 (beep beep beep clang clang clang), putz around for awhile, have a coffee break mid-morning, a little more putzing, a long lunch break complete with a nap in the shade, a wee bit more working, foot races from the truck to the basketball hoop and back, maybe a little more work, another break, oh hell how ’bout another couple minutes of work, leave. Lather, rinse, repeat. I’d love this kind of job.

Hey Jen, what’s up with that funky bumpy thing on your arm? The funky bumpy thing had a hot date with the even-complexioned dermatologist on Monday. It is now a funky cratery thing and word came down from on high this morning that it was merely a funky bumpy thing and nothing more. Yay.

Hey Jen, what’s up with the moving slowly and whimpering? Yeah, thanks for noticing. In an attempt to show the body who’s boss I met with a personal trainer on Tuesday to learn how to use the fitness equipment at the New!And!Improved! rec center. Body gave me notice this morning upon waking. I took charge and showed Body I’m not easily intimidated and dragged her sorry ass to a Pilates class this morning. Body is now planning revenge. Between you and me and the ether, I think I may have broken my spleen or something. Don’t tell Body; she tends to smirk and gloat and shit.

Hey Jen, what’s up with your stomach? Oh, Body is telling stomach to behave, so stomach isn’t a problem right now. However, I anticipate a rebellion soon. Things are going to get worse before they get better, but at least I’m formulating a plan to cure stomach and show Body who’s boss.

Hey Jen, what’s up with your white trash patio? It’s still a white trash patio. Husband and contractor are engaged in a record-setting game of Phone Tag. ‘Tis my hope we get a patio by, oh, July 4th. Fireworksapalooza must have a new patio. (From our house we can see fireworks up and down the front range).

Hey Jen, what’s up with J not up in his room having quiet time like he’s supposed to? Hmm…thanks for pointing that out. Allow me to go duct tape him to his wall…

Hey Jen, what’s up with the Economic Stimulus Check? Oh, do you have one? Because we don’t. I believe it’s a myth, sorta like the Loch Ness Monster and the Yeti. Or along the lines of “Social Security will exist when I hit retirement age.”

Hey Jen, what’s up with your writing? Oh, you mean, I wrote a lovely post about the library and was given an awesome award for it and now my posts tend to be whiny, if anything at all? Yeah, I noticed. I think my brain/humor/writing are in cahoots with Body. Things shall improve.

Hey Jen, how’s it going with the time management? Is this a snide remark? That I should be getting stuff ready for the yard sale I’m having at the end of the month? That I should be working on my business? That I should be vacuuming the white trash patio gravel out of my miserable carpet? That I should be working on one of the two online classes I’m taking? That I should be replying to the emails I have gathering dust in the inbox? That’s there’s laundry to be put away? That there are plants to purchase and plant? That I should be doing any of those things instead of posting the premier Hey Jen, what’s up with…??? post? Yeah, it’s not going so good.

Hey Jen, what’s up with the cutesy monsters on the left there? Oh, ya like ‘em? I got tired of the bald blank guy as an avatar, so I told WordPress to give me something better. And they listened. ‘Cause I’m powerful like that. {snort} I like the monsters.

Hey Jen, what’s up with that time management again? Fine. I’ll reboot the laundry, get some more iced tea (sadly, my favorite summertime drink is going to be axed soon), check my email and google reader again, then get A and drag him off to OT. Happy? And are you also in cahoots with Body?

A three-ring clusterfu–hey, look, a puppy!

You know, I’m done. Somehow I managed to dig myself into a deep hole of craziness and stress and guilt. Right before Mother’s Day, too. I’m good that way.

Today J watched 4 hours of TV because I was desperately digging myself out of three weeks of work. Once I get the boys in bed this evening I will continue to dig.

The recent crisis that started the hole is more or less over. It was a school issue. Nothing A did, nothing we did, nothing his teacher did. But he will be going to the new school behind our house next fall. Part of fighting battles is knowing which battles to fight. And I’m done. I’m done worrying, I’m done screaming and crying, I’m done. Most of all, I’m done driving…Quicken told me how much we spent on gas in the last two years. After regaining consciousness, we did a pro/con list and made our decision. It was extremely difficult, but it’s what’s best for our family. Oh, and the new school will be a good one. Always a plus when there’s a GT school with a GT principal for your GT kid in your backyard. Lest you think driving/gas prices made the decision for us…uh, no. But it was a factor…and the one that caused me to hyperventilate.

And the effin’ Democratic candidate race can end any day now. That’s all I’m sayin’.

So I’m moving forward. I’m removing as much as I can from my life. Still trying to figure out exactly what those things will be, but I have to do it. Trying to do the mom/home/work thing 16 hours a day, then slamming my head into my pillow, isn’t exactly healthy. And I have exactly 3 1/2 weeks to figure it all out; both boys are done with school by May 30th.

That scream you just heard? Yeah, me.

Seriously fluffy Friday

Thanks to More Cowbell, I found several time-wasting “quizzes” for today. Good thing, too, ’cause I barely have the brain power to do much more this afternoon. We’re on Day Two of “Mother Nature’s PMS Psycho Episode.” It’s now in the 40s and so windy we have wind chills in the 20s. And this weekend it’ll get back into the 70s. Don’t piss off Mother Nature.

Created by OnePlusYou

I think I need to start using up some of the food in our pantries. And stay out of Costco.

Created by OnePlusYou

Yeah, didn’t do too well on this one. Got the Cylon, though. I still can’t believe my husband got me hooked on Battlestar Galactica, something of which he is overly proud.

Created by OnePlusYou

Wow. Really. Wow. I think this may directly related to being able to survive in my house for 80 days. And that I should probably really start using that New!And!Improved! rec center membership already.

Created by OnePlusYou

No shit? Damn, coulda fooled me.

Created by OnePlusYou

Is this before or after the Cannibals are done?

Created by OnePlusYou

Whatever.

Created by OnePlusYou

I cheated and used two fingers. I’m barely caffeinated today, which is contributing to my wicked headache and jonesing for a double shot espresso.

Have a good weekend.

Mayday! Mayday!

It’s May 1st! I know this because:

A) I turned over my calendar.

B) I received a lovely May Day basket

C) It’s snowing outside. And it was 82 degrees yesterday.

If you guessed C, you win! And it has actually gotten heavier in the ten minutes since I took this picture. I can barely see across the schoolyard. Damn it, I just took the patio furniture cover off yesterday! Frak. I’m looking at a solid half inch of heavy, wet snow, and I’m sure there’ll be more before it quits. Oh, and please do not comment on the White Trash Patio we have. I realize it looks like crap. That is our summer project, to put in a pressed/stained/sealed concrete patio. So, yes, it looks horrible, but hey, the snow is doing a great job covering it up today!

I’ve had several things running through my head in the last couple of days, and absolutely zero time to sit and write them down. Thanks to Dragon Tales (oh, please, someone put me out of my misery; it’s snowing in May and J is watching that LSD-trip PBSkids show), I have a few minutes to spew out what has been running amok in my brain. Careful, it might get ugly. I’m coffee-less and it’s snowing in MAY!

The current stress-inducing events are still current and still stress-inducing. There is a meeting tonight and Tom and I are thinking of bringing flasks for the pissed-off parties. However, we will likely refrain, as we wish this meeting to NOT end up on the evening news. It does, let’s note, have the distinct possibility of becoming quite contentious. There will be much wine-ing once we get home.

With a shovel and a match. That is how I cleaned A’s room the other day. His room can get out of hand pretty quickly, but this was about as bad as I’ve ever seen it:

It’s like playing Where’s Waldo?, but with a bedroom. So let’s see…I see a tent, the box the tent came in, speakers from his stereo, clothes, loveys, toys, clothes, miscellaneous crap. It is considerably better now. You can see the floor. And I refrained from the match.

HOLY CRAP, THE SNOW IS GETTING HEAVIER!

I have an appointment on Monday for getting a funky bumpy thing removed from my arm. It’s freaking out the husband. The dermatologist I go to has, um, how do I say this politely? She has no facial expressions. Methinks the Botox has gone bad on her. I have a significant II between my eyes, so I can sympathize. My II is getting deeper and more prominent with each passing day. I figure that by my 35th birthday this fall I should be able to plant tulip bulbs in there for next spring. I do believe that I’m furrowing my brow more often than not. Can’t imagine why…

My carpool partner has been in Hawaii for the last two weeks. Lucky. But I have been doing all the driving, both ways. I’m so over it. On the bright side, I’ve been listening to a whole bunch of podcasts. I loves my iPod. The podcast I’m into right now is Travel with Rick Steves. I’ve watched his travel shows for years and, with my parents, Tom and I have traveled Rick Steves-style. We both have one of his rucksacks, and they are fantastic for travel. One of the podcasts I listened to yesterday was with Eric Weiner, author of The Geography of Bliss. I read this book a few months ago and loved it. The author traveled the world, looking for the happiest places on earth. It’s been long enough since I read it that I can’t remember all the details, just that I loved the book. And having him on the podcast with my favorite travel author was awesome.

IT.IS.STILL.SNOWING.

I’m sure there’s a whole lot more I could whine about today, but I shall refrain. I’m sure your brains thank you. Ooh, goody! I get to go to speech therapy now! And occupational therapy later! And drive some more! In the snow! And then go to a very bitter and contentious meeting with a crapload of seriously pissed off people! In the snow!

More actual posts to come in the next few days. I have a book review…from a book I finished nearly 2 months ago. I have the Pancake Puffs Pan review…only two weeks late. But hey, if you don’t hear from me…check under the snow.

Screaming into the wind

Ever have that feeling that no matter how right you are, no matter how the facts lean in your favor, no matter how eloquent your argument is, you’re just screaming into the wind? You know how frustrating that is?

This is when I wish I had an entirely anonymous blog, where I could completely let loose. But as much as I try to keep personal details out of here, there’s enough known about me that if I start to scream to the skies about what’s going on to make me so crazy, it would be easy peasy to figure out exactly what I was talking about.

So instead I scream to the skies that it isn’t right, we’re being screwed, and thankyousomuch for bringing so much unfuckingnecessary stress into my life. That it involves my son makes it even worse.

Some very very difficult decisions are going to need to be made. I don’t know if they will be made in the near or distant future, but unfortunately they will need to be made. And I’m not happy about it; I thought we were past this.

The facts lean in our favor and we have an eloquent argument, but we’re still screaming into the wind.

The letter

Dear Body,

We’ve been together 34, almost 35, years now. Well, if you don’t count that 10 month swimming party. Woooo! That was a party, wasn’t it? Didn’t have to do a single thing other than float and kick. Nice, warm water…no responsibilities…didn’t even have to use the legs to move around.

It’s been a heck of a ride. Broken bones, sprained wrists, oh…remember that time I snapped all the ligaments in my left foot? Dang, that hurt. I learned to not walk on a “sleeping” leg that day, that’s for sure. We hung together through two childhood bladder surgeries and idiopathic thrombocytopenia and repeating strep throat and the tonsillectomy from hell. Remember that? Ooooohhhhh…that wasn’t fun. That was nasty. That was bad. Yeah, we fought the tonsils and actually won that battle. They’d won every other battle the previous 18 years. That was right after the first bout of mono, my first year in college.

That’s when things really started going south, wasn’t it? I mean, we were pretty close, you and I, until that point. Still have no idea how I picked that up, I sure wasn’t dating, that’s for damned sure. But, Body, you changed then. Copped an attitude. Became a bit bitchier. You pretty much hijacked me in a dark alley and took me for all I had. I didn’t appreciate that in the slightest, but I forgave you and we moved on. The problems with stress started about then too. I guess a rift in my closest relationship (uh, you) brought on my inability to appropriately deal with stress. Then, dammit, the second bout of mono hit the first year of marriage. Now that, you bitch, was flat-out mean. Come on, mono my first married Valentine’s Day? You and I both know it was stress that brought it on again; I was a first year teacher living in a rural area, newly married, and no friends. But mono, again!? Not fair. You play dirty.

We moved on from that bout (and the corresponding gastritis…bitch) and moved to beeeeyoutiful Colorado. And things were good. Very good. For a year. Then that Evil Villain Stress hit the second year…right about the time I burned out on grad school and flute playing. No mono, thankfully, just TMJ and the tough decision of what to name my ulcer, once it was diagnosed.

And you and I got along, for the most part, until the miscarriage. We forgave each other, once again, and moved on. The pregnancy with A….yeah…you and I took it on the chin with that one. Remember how he’d never stop kicking, how we felt him move at 10 weeks? Poor doctor couldn’t get a steady heartbeat because he was doing laps. Over seven years later and he’s still moving. And ooooohhh…squeezing him out really did a number to you, didn’t it? I’m sorry about that, really I am. But hey, you and I worked like a team! with J’s pregnancy. Piece.Of.Cake. Sorry about the no-drugs thing with him. He was in a hurry. But hey, we made it and felt like a million bucks afterward. Oh, and nice of you to actually provide the breast milk to feed him; you must have been pissy about A’s birth and just didn’t feel like playing dairy.

Those pregnancies hit you hard, didn’t they? Stretch marks (I promise you, Body, if one of the boys compares you to a tiger one more time, there’s gonna be words), the promise of bodacious ta-tas…only to disappear after the dairy shut down, feet FUBARed because of the weight.

And then Evil Villain Stress moved in. Two rambunctious boys invited him in to stay, gave him dinner, rubbed his feet.

You retaliated by putting the thyroid to sleep. Thanks so much, you bitch. I wasn’t tired enough having two sons, but then you body-slammed the energy.

You retaliated by wigging out over my coffee consumption. Well, dimwit, if you hadn’t bitch-slapped the thyroid, I wouldn’t have had to chug half a pot of coffee to try to claw my way out of it. I really do appreciate the deteriorating stomach lining.

You retaliated by packing on the pounds, just for giggles. Ho.

Well. I’m getting the last laugh. I’ve met with a nutritionist to see what the problem is with my stomach, because you, Body, managed to hoodwink the doctors into believing there was nothing wrong. Noooo…Body is always perfect. And tomorrow I’m having a fitness assessment at the New!And!Improved! rec center. I’m going to find out just how psycho you are and I’m going to do something about it. I’m going to have someone at the rec center hold me accountable, and Body, I’m taking charge. You’re going to hate me for awhile, but tough titties, I’ve had enough crap from you thankyouverymuch.

If we’re going to be around for as long as possible, we’re going to have to get along. And right now we’re an old fart married couple who can barely stand each other. Not a prescription for a long relationship, that. So think of this as relationship counseling. And at the end, if we’re still speaking to one another, we’ll be even more compatible and loving and friendly towards one another.

Or I’ll let the boys draw mazes on the stretch marks.

Love and kisses,

jen

Lots o’ Momma Bears out there…

There aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything I need to do, especially since I seem to hit uber-slow speed when super stressed. Like today. This week has become the perfect storm of stress and there’s no end in sight right now. Usually I respond to all comments by email, and it is killing me that I just can’t. So many of you commented on my last post. The well-wishes and offers of wine and support is welcome and I just thank you so much. We’re still in the thick of things and because this is such a public forum, I just can’t say anything about anything. But I’m still greatly pissed off, there are no answers forthcoming from the powers that be, and it’ll be a miracle if my stomach lining survives this whole ordeal. I can’t believe there’s anything left at this point.

I’ll be back to the regularly scheduled amusements in the near future.

Don’t.Tick.Me.Off.

I have had a craptastic 6 hours. I cannot and will not go into any details here, but I’m going to rant and rave a wee bit so I can actually sleep tonight.

I am a very loyal person. Once you are in my heart, you are there for good. I am a loyal and dedicated friend, member of an organization, you name it. But…

If you screw with me, or mislead me, or lie to me…don’t. You don’t want to do that. You just don’t.

And if it deals with one of my sons, you’d better fracking change your address, ’cause Momma Bear just might come a’visiting.

I must now go to bed. I fear Momma Bear is going to need her energy for what is shaping up to be one hell of a week.

Honored

Mornings are tough around here. I’m trying to get myself cleaned up, trying to get A focused enough for school (including his listening therapy), and trying to keep J from antagonizing his brother. All without coffee.

So today I opened up my email to distract myself from the chaos and found the most eye-opening, jaw-dropping (really, I gotta knock off the jaw-dropping…I have enough things going on without having to gum all my food for the next month), day-making news:

I’m a MOST Honorable Mention at Scribbit’s April Write-Away Contest. To say I am honored, thrilled, stunned…you get the idea…is the understatement of the year. The post I submitted is here, about my love of my library.

I sat, stunned, reading that I was chosen as an Honorable Mention…and was quickly brought back down to earth by a full cup of orange/pomegranate juice flying onto the floor, followed very closely by the tumbling and spilling of the Rice Krispies box, and the vocal stylings of two little boys singing along to XM Kids. Ahh…mornings.

So if you’re here from Scribbit’s site, welcome. Curl up and stay awhile. Have some coffee (I’ll only stand over your shoulder and sniff the aromatic deliciousness). Leave a comment. Welcome.