Philip to Deploy

Philip is scheduled to come home tomorrow for the weekend; but Ernesto has gotten in the way of our plans. It has shut down the airport in North Carolina, and I'm sure, it is shutting down the lives of many people in it's path.

I was watching some show on Monday, I don't remember what it was, but it was about the aftermath of Katrina. It was absolutely heart-wrenching. I remember my son and I going thru our closets last year, collecting whatever we could to help out - in any way we could. It was the only thing I could do at the time. I really had NO idea of the devastation. I don't think anyone did. I still don't understand why it took so long for help to get there.

Will it take so long this time, should it happen again? In NC. What if it happened in the Capitol? Would it take as long to help our precious officials, to get them the aide they need? The food, drink, the proper elimination areas required? Would they be there for them? Who will "they" be?

But for this weekend, I'm hoping Ernesto will just let up and leave, peacefully. We would like to see our Philip, for he will be home this last time before his deployment - his first tour to Iraq. Frank and the kids will be bringing him back over the holiday. Because I can't travel, I will not be going. We will fly both an American and a Marine flag (OORAH!) for him while he is gone, as well as yellow ribbons. I told him this this morning when I talked to him. I asked him to help his Dad purchase the Marine flag while they are on base. The kids are so excited to see him in uniform, in formation with his buddies on base. Nicholas can't wait to see the Marine base, the tanks, the guns (of course) everything Marine!! This is going to be so hard for Frank - leaving his son. Leaving his son. Leaving. That sounds so different now. The impact that word has now. I was so emotional when I heard his voice today. Please pray for our Philip, for his safety, for his platoon and their safety. For his family. His very large family.

As always, wishing all pain-free days!
deborah

Abit about Lewis Carroll

I've been knocked around all weekend with this little storm. I'm waiting for it to go away, for my meds to kick in, or kick it out. Three days of abortives now, and I don't like to go over that, for fear of the dreaded rebound to hit me.

I was hit pretty hard yesterday while we were shopping. I bent down to pick up Q-tips, I should know better than to bend down, but we were out. We needed them. But when I started to stand up, tht's when the ice pick hit, deep inside my skull, and hard and fast. I couldn't move, I was frozen there between the bend and stand. I couldn't hear right, just a muffling sound around me, and I was losing my vision in my right eye, the black sand. And then the nausea. I knew I was in for it, deep inside I knew, but I tried to block it, tried to ignore it, like always, thinking, wishing, hoping it would go away. I found Frank, and he was talking to a friend I hadn't seen in probably 5 years - about, what else, MIGRAINES!!!!! And naturally, I start feeling it all come on heavy, but I'm still suppressing it, yeah, stupid, I know. Like it's really going to go away if I think it away. She starts asking me questions about medication and stuff and I tried to answer her, and that's wehn it was all over for me, and he knew it, and I finally knew, and she could see that I was different than the woman she knew back then.

I couldn't speak. My words were now jumbled and not coming. I couldn't remember anything I was taking to tell her of. My tongue felt as if it was swollen and numb, so my words were almost impossible to pronounce. I had to hold her cart and ours for balance, because the motion of the people around me were making my balance much worse. We exchanged numbers and Frank and I finally started to walk; he with his gimp from his knee injury, and I with that awkward neurological stupid walk I have when the big one is coming on. He kept asking me if I needed to go to the car, and I refused. I'm stubborn that way. All the while, the picking was working it's way, bit--by-bit back into my skull, deeper and deeper. With each blow, I could feel my legs getting weaker and weaker; and he could see it. He can always see it. I can never hide it from him.

We get to the cereal isle, and as I reached for the box I wanted, I knew I was finally defeated; I couldn't move, frozen again. Totally frozen. Legs wouldn't move, I couldn't speak, I could feel my whole right side about to just go out from under me. I was completely frozen - I just couldn't move. And he was watching me, and asking me what I wanted, and he could see it in my face - and he imitated my movement, or lack of, the jerkiness, and my face - and we just started laughing. I mean, what else can we do??

That's how we handle it - we laugh at IT, because what other choice do we? We've both done the crying, and that only brought frustration and defeat. At least if we laugh, we just move on. I don't feel sorry for myself, it's just not my way - I have actually thanked God for my disease. Crazy, yeah. But I believe He has made me a stronger person in it in many ways. I am a fighter. For one, it has brought me back to Him. For that reason alone, I am thankful. He gets me through it everyday.

We found this great second-hand bookstore Friday night - a new favorite place for me. Anyway, I picked up The COMPLETE (yeaah) All of Lewis Carroll's stories, verses, puzzles,etc.. everything - in ONE BOOK!!! OK so you can see I'm excited about it. I went in looking for Through the Looking Glass but they didn't have it, this was all they had. I have been going nuts with it. Knowing he was a migraineur and being told I could find some of his suffering in his writing, I've been eager to find, check this out:

From PHOTOGRAHY EXTRAORDINARY
The Spasmodic or German School

Firebrands and daggers! hope hath fled!
To atoms dash the doubly dead!
My brain is fire--my heart is lead!
Her soul is flint, and what am I?
Scorch'd by her fierce, relentless eye,
Nothingness is my destiny!

Ok, today, to me it was explaining my icepick! But this nest one is even better, trust me.

LAYS OF MYSTERY,

IMAGINATION, AND HUMOR

N

Number I

THE PALACE OF HUMBUG

I Dreamt I dwelt in marble halls,

And each damp thing that creeps and crawls,

Went wobble-wobble on the walls.

Faint odours of departed cheese,

Blown on the dank, unwholesome breeze,

Awoke the never-ending sneeze.

Strange pictures decked the arras drear,

Strange characters of woe and fear,

The humbugs of the social sphere.

One showed a vain and noisy prig,

That shouted empty words and big

At him that nodded in a wig.

And one, a dotard grim and gray,

Who wasteth childhood's happy day,

In work more profitless than play.

Whose icy breast no pity warms,

Whose little victims sit in swarms,

And slowly sob on lower forms.

And one, a green thyme-honoured Bank,

Where flowers are growing wild and rank,

Like weeds that fringe a poised tank.

All birds of evil omen there

Flood with rich Notes the tainted air,

The witless wanderer to snare.

The fatal Notes neglected fall,

No creature heeds the treacherous call,

For all those goodly Strawn Baits Pall.

The wandering phantom broke and fled,

Straightway I saw within my head

A vision of a ghostly bed,

Where lay two worn decrepit men,

The fictions of a lawyer's pen,

Who never more might breathe again.

The serving-man of Richard Roe

Wept, inarticulate with woe:

She wept, that waited on John Doe.

"Oh rouse", I urged, "the waning sense

With tales of tangled evidence,

Of suit, demurrer, and defence."

"Vain", she replied, "such mockeries:

For morbid fancies, such as these,

No suits can suit, no plea can please."

And bending o'er that man of straw,

She cried in grief and sudden awe,

Not inapproprately, "Law!"

The well-remembered voice he knew,

He smiled, he faintly muttered "Sue!"

(Her very name was legal too.)

The night was fled, the dawn was nigh:

A hurricane went raving by,

And swept the Vision from mine eye.

Vanished that dim and ghostly bed,

(The hangings, tape; the tape was red:)

'Tis o'er, and Doe and Roe are dead!

Oh, yet my spirit inly crawls,

What time it shudderinly recalls

That horrid dream of marble halls!

Oxford, 1855

Has anyone else had weirdo dreams during migraine?????

But that's all for tonight. Time for my trusty (I hope) Toradol and bed. Heres hoping you have a wondrful, pain-free day. You, too, Ian.

Deborah

Caution - Hormones Raging! Stay Back 500 Feet

There should be a sign on my front door, or one coming both ways toward my house with the warning. Not for me, mind you; for the two raging maniacs I bore from my uterus. This "warning" should be posted with flashing lights, sirens, the works. How is it that they get it at the same time? And WHY????

I can remember the day, Friday, January 13th. Yeah, no joke, Friday the 13th! I am by no means a supersticious creature by nature - it was merely coincidence . A funny one at that. Cinderisa was first. She actually wanted it. We all wanted it as girls. Remember, Are You There God, it's Me, Margaret?, case in point. Well, she wanted it, her friends had it, and then, BOOM - she got it! At the appropriate age of 13. I, being the crazy Mom that I am, made all of the necessary phone calls to my friends and relatives, "Guess who's a little lady today????" Hey, I was excited for her! She, of course, no longer wanted what she had been anticipating; however, there is a no-return policy on this situation. A horrible lesson we've all learned too well. I gave her the ins-and-outs of being clean and sanitary about IT. A must, I believe. Told her to make sure she always kept them handy in her locker and bookbag in case of emergency - because they WILL happen.

Then Monday came, just 3 short days later and the phone rings; "Mom, (insert a lot of hysterical crying), I got my period on my chair!"
"Did you have pads with you?" I asked, knowing we just had that conversation.
"NO! Why would I have pads?"
"What do you mean, 'why would I have pads?' you should be keeping them in your locker and bookbag in case of emergency! honey" I'm reminding her
"Well I didn't know!" (lot's of sobbing and crying)
"Wait, how didn't you know, you've had it all weekend, and I told you this morning to bring pads. You DID know, sweetheart." I reminded again.
"I did NOT have my period, Mom." (more crying)
Now I'm confused.
"Who is this?" I asked, thinking maybe some little girl called the wrong house.
"It's Christina!"
So now I'm laughing hysterically at her, poor baby, and trying to calm her down. She is only 10 years old!!!!!! She isn't supposed to get her period for like 10 more years - she's my baby girl. Bratz dolls and all. Wall-to-wall stuffed animals, pink pony-tail holders - all girly-girl girl! This can't be happening!

Wow, what a week that was. It's pretty funny everytime I think of it. I wasn't even thinking at all she'd be getting it. Even though she's so much more developed than Marisa. The age thing threw me.

I had been too sick to drive at the time, and we only had one car, so I couldn't even rescue the poor thing. So I called my BFF Terri, we live for these moments - literally. This is the kind of cake and ice cream or special dinner celebration in our world! Everything is a "scrapbook moment" to us. Somehow, the period, not so much. But still, it was special. She gladly picked her up from school, supplied her with much-needed chocolate and took her to Mc D's. The kid was in hormone heaven.

And I have been in anything but ever since! These 2 girls have co-incided their periods each month, and with mine, too. But the mood swings - God help me! Or help Frank, because he just doesn't get it. You'd think by now he would.

Now Frank is wonderful about most anything that falls in his lap; this he just doesn't get. Mood swings - like we want or better yet, can control them. I try to help him understand this, but the poor guy just looks at each of us and shakes his head. While we're secretly ripping his head off BIT BY BIT, SLOWLY, V E R Y S L O W L Y, SO HE FEELS NOTHING BUT PAIN!!!!!!! Ok, so my hormones are racing right now - blame it on my girls. We don't really want to dismember him, just anyone who gets in the way.

Marisa had the mean and nasty hormone rages this month.
Christina has had the sad and weepies.
I'm on the verge of REDRUM sort of. Hopefully, it will get here, and I'll feel better. I just laugh at my girls, thinking, mine will soon be over, but YOURS HAS JUST BEGUN!!!!!!! I shouldn't laugh, because while they're under our roof, we must live with them. Their moods, the meanness, the sobbing, weaping - all of it. Nicholas just smiles and says, "you got your periods!" Not really understanding the jist of it, but to him, it's funny. It's a girl thing, and he doesn't get one. brat

Tonight, in 5 more hours actually, they go to their Dad's for the weekend; hooray! The remainder of this will pass, the moods will, no doubt, lighten up. And he will get to enjoy the rages. Enjoy Carmey. Poor Frank will have only ME to deal with for the weekend. I'm thinking a bottle of wine might just make things all better. For me or him, are you asking? Well, I guess you'll just have to wait on that.

Happy Birthday, Cinderisa

Today marks my girl's 14th birthday! Where does the time go???? So much has changed since she was just a little thing. She didn't start out little, though. When she was born, she was 8 pounds, 8 ounces! Head out and screaming - TMI, yeah. The doc said, "you're in for it with this one!" And he wasn't kidding! This child screamed non-stop for the first 4 years of her life. So did I. I cried, wondering, what was wrong with her. When she was 16 months old, after months of projectile vomitting, endles fevers, and more, she ended up in the hospital in renal failure. We were terrified. She was so sick. We were told she could lose her kidney, or worse, lose her. She made it, thankfully. She was a tough little fighter.

This is her, shortly after it all happened. This child, sat up at 4 months old. I wasn't used to that, as Alexa sat up for the first time on her first birthday. I remember trying to sit Michael up at 4 months, thinking if she could, surely he could; but he fell backward. OOPS! Poor Mike.

"look, I found a quarter!" Easter egg hunt. This is on Virginia Beach; our vacation place. The kids absolutely love it there. Unfortunately, we didn't go this year as I'm no good with travelling. Maybe I will be better next year gang. I hope so for your sakes.

Here she is with Cassie at the "Awards Banquet" at school. It's unbelievable how tall that girl is, isn't it!!! Marisa is NOT that short either. Cassie is just very tall. Marisa calls her, her friendly giant.

This is her instrument of choice! My little girl is a drummer. It's not the best choice for someone who suffers from migraines, I know, and NO, we don't have a set here - she does at her Dad's house. Not her own, but his. One day, I'm hoping we can invest in a set for her, maybe set up the shed for her. It's pretty big, with lights and electricity; far enough away from the house where it won't affect me, and will give her some privacy. It's a great way for her to get out any aggression. Believe me, she has aggression. Girl+hormones=aggression. Oh, that and having a sick Mom added to it, you do the math.

Anyway, this is a great kid my Cinderisa. I can't wait to start my day with her. I've spent too much of it doing nothing today. We need to go shopping and do something with her. Just her! I'm sure she'll enjoy that. I know God has an amazing plan for her life and I hope and pray she heeds to it.

Happy Birtday big girl. I can't believe you are 14. I love you so much. You are a unique and wonderful young lady. The world is right outside our doorstep, just waiting to devour you. I am going to do my best to keep you safe and wonderful and healthy as long and as best as I can. Stay you. Because YOU are truly awesome! I love you.

Mom

Yellow for Schoolbus

To date, I have received the supply lists (insert rage here) for two of my children. It kills me to read the amount of items my kindergartner will need, since he will only be there for 2 1/2 hours. Such as:

2 "Expo" dry erase markers - to which I'm just wondering why he would need them!?,
6 - yeah 6 "Elmers" glue sticks, 2 "elmers" glue bottles. (like, what on earth is he going to be gluing?? that would require such an amount?)
1 Box zip lock baggies (sandwich size), and 1 Box in storage size. (hmmm)
2 Crayola crayons - 12 or 24 pack. (So if I buy him the 24, does that count as 2 -12 packs??)
1 Box colored pencils
1 Box sharpened pencils (thankfully, he's been saving a bunch of them)
1 pink eraser (he's not going to agree on that one!)
1 two pocket folder
1 container of Clorox wipes - (seems the boy will be busy keeping things in his area clean and fresh)
1 box of tissues.

then there is the "Optional School Supplies"
liquid pump soap
paper towels
brown lunch bags
paper plates

Call me crazy, (crazy bi#$*!), and I don't mean to sound cheap, but WTF?!!! I get the whole, someteachershavetospendtheirsalariesonschoolsuppliesbecauseparentsaretoocheaptobuytheir ownkidsthethingstheyNEED!!!!! Some of these supplies, and "Brand names" seemed a bit far out for me to fathom. This for a 2 1/2 hour kindergarten class. Oh, and he "will need a healthy snack and drink everyday. Please send this in on a daily basis!" OK, got that! However, he will just be finishing lunch before he goes off on the big yellow school bus; so he's already being robbed of precious time he could actually be spending , say , learning, that we must toss in snack time to the daily activity as well? Of course, I'm sure that is where the "Clorox wipes" come in to play as he'll need to clean and sanitize his area. I'm thinking this is going to take about 30 minutes of his already too short day! But that's just me thinking too far into the whole thing.

I'm very excited for him, the whole new experience of kindergarten thing. He's very nervous about it right now. "I don't want to go to kindergarten." He wants to go back to his preschool class. (Hey, he actually had 3 1/2 hours there!) I'm sure it will be so wonderful for him. He's a little bummed that his buddy, AJ will not be in his class; but on a good note, we found lastnight that Alyssa will be in his school. Whether she is AM or PM has yet to be found out, but I'm hoping it's PM, and they get to be in together. That would just be so awesome for the 2 of them. Both transition-wise, and well, because!!

Here's the list for sixth grade: (just can't wait to get Cinderisa's)

4 different colored 1 in. 3-ring binders

2-3 packs wide-rule loose-leaf paper

7 pocket folders

red, blue, and black pens. ( no gels or green )

2 packs of 10!!!! #2 pencils

colored pencils

calculator

highlighters,

3 boxs of tissues - pop-up type preferred. (that makes me want to get something altogether different -just because)

1 pack magic markers

2glue sticks (sounds reasonable)

scissors

1 blank floppy computer disk. (I thought I'd send our finacial records instead!)

1 ruler, with customary and metric units. (because we use the metric system here in the US!!)

Oh, and all textbooks must be covered thru the year.

Not too bad! I can handle that. It's the Jr High that's gonna hit the account right off! With the graphing calculator I understand. She's having it permanently attatched next Tuesday at 3; a friend of ours does exotic piercing and........ Oh I'm kidding, but if she loses the damn thing - she's dead! that's it, dead! Like the skunk outside my window, D E A D!!!! We haven't gotten that list yet, I think they wait until the day before school starts and say something like this:

Welcome parents and students of said Jr High. We hope this will be a pleasant learning experience for all of you; We also hope you had a relaxing and enjoyable summer vacation - BECAUSE WE'RE HERE TO BUST YOUR BUBBLE WITH THE SCHOOL SUPPLY LIST. AAAHHAAAAA HAA HAAA HAAA!!!!!!! oK, maybe a bit overboard in the dramatics. I'm sure they will expect everything on the first day, as well as the added lists they send home with them on FRIDAY! Oh, with the extra $$$$$$$$$$$$$ they'll want for expenditures like, party money, and workbooks, and locker fees, and union fees, and fire hose rental, and garbage disposal, and the rent-a-cop and..............yeah, I'm stressing a little.

It's back-to-school time, and I'm a Mom that actually sends my kids into the wilds of the public school system. Morals they learn at home. (Scary isn't it!) I tried the home-schooling thing with Cinderisa, and I did do some pre-school stuff that was wonderful. She learned her shapes and colors, I even taught her sign language; and she grasped it, well! But, keeping her home with me all day, NOPE! Wasn't for me. Not that full-time-home-school-sort-of-Mommy! Just not me. I commend anyone who can. And I know a lot of Moms that do; but it just wasn't for me. I could see myself in a padded cell - that was my future. I had no patience for it. My heart goes out to the teachers that have classrooms full of children. I enjoy being in the classroom with my kids for parties and such; but not in my home. And that's ok for me.

Whoa! I just realized something scary! Cinderisa is a freshman this year! I was just a freshman not that long ago!!! Yikes. Scarier yet, when I was a freshman, it was the 80's, and now - it looks like they're trying to come back! The 80's fashions, hair, all of it. Ugly. I've always had my own t-shirt and jeans kind of fashion thing going on. I like to dress up on occassion, look a little more snazzy on other days. But please don't allow the hidious looks of the 80's come back!

Something different; the girls decided to give Miss Nala a bath today! I tried to insert her pic but didn't work. Anyway, they thought she smelled bad, and thought she needed a bath. Yeah, 'cause cats like that sort of thing! Well, I'm here to say, she didn't like it. But boy did she look funny when they were done with her. And we found the reason for her smelling bad; a boo-boo on her neck. Probably from something she killed. So a little Bag Balm and she's starting to fluff up nicely. Poor Naly! Now she has to be irritated by me putting gunk on her boo-boo. At least she had a bath, a "berryliscious" one at that.

Well, I do hope everyone out there in Migraineland is feeling well today. I'm off to do some dreaded school supply shopping. What fun. I'll be singing as I go; to the tune of, "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" and the kids will, likely, be glaring at me. To which I say, "WHATEVER!"

ciao

deborah

Poetry in Motion

Today is becoming a much better day than the previous two days. Thank you, Lord! I thought for sure I was in for something awful. Who knows, I still could be, but for now, I feel much better.

I changed my template to something that remotely resembles a sort of storm front appearance. I've looked at the other pages out there, and while they are quite glamorous, I think this is what I'll stick with. For now. I like it. It reminds me of a painting a friend did for me from a poem I wrote. I can't seem to find the painting, maybe it was lost from moving, I don't know; but it's driving me nuts because it's lost. I used to write poetry, and I suppose I should try to pick it up again. Today I'm submitting the poem:

The Lighthouse

I sailed upon the sea one day,

Amid the waters tossing way;

And though I feard the storms dim plight,

Out in the distance, a blinking light.

I tried to reach through that storms roar,

The wonderous sight of that peaceful shore;

When all around me, a fog so dense,

My fear grew heavy, my body, tense.

And as the fear inside me grew,

That blinking light, shone brightly through;

And though the fog was heavy, still,

I neared the shore, for it was God's will.

And I felt a peace come over me,

As I finally left that roaring sea;

That Lighthouse brought me safely home,

And I look upon It when feeling alone.

I walked along that sandy shore,

Where the Lighthouse stands and blinks for more;

It calls to those upon the sea,

Whose souls cry out to be set free.

A step in faith, we need to take,

And trust in Him, for our souls sake;

For Jesus, the Lighthouse represents,

And saving souls, was why He was sent.

So when life's throwing us to and fro,

Call on His name, and we will know;

That on the shoreline, blinking bright,

The Lighthouse, Jesus, our Heaven's Light;

Will bring us safe, from stormy sea,

And dwell with us, eternally.

I wrote that poem May 15, 1997 and my life has changed, dramatically since then. My faith hasn't waivered. I still believe in my Lord as Savior. But there was a time I was very bitter; both with myself and the church. I had left my husband, it was a very ugly time in my life and in his. I walked away from my God, in a very hateful way. But He is a loving and forgiving Father. And I am thankful for this. I am just now walking back towards my Loving Father. I'm hoping and praying that my children will walk to Him as well.

I wrote many, many poems during those days. Maybe I'll share them here. Maybe you'll want to read them, or maybe you'll feel the need to not read my blog any longer. I hope you'll feel compelled to read on, though. Maybe you have had the same experiene in leaving Him, and have a desire to find Him again. I hope you have a desire to find Him, seek Him, trust me, He wants to be found. There is much peace in being the one who finds Him again. I know. I'm living proof.

So that is my plug for the day. I hope you come back! Stay well.

deborah

Warning - Aura ahead

That is what I woke to this morning. There was no actual "warning" but there was no actual visual field either. Only aura. The kind that is THERE! The DEEP unpenetrable (is that a word???) sheet that I woke to. It was almost blinding in thickness. I'm not sure I can even explain the contents of it, there was so much to be had. Thick! That's what it was. I couldn't see. It was so thick, the aura. I could only see the aura around me. I can only feel the aura still. I am dizzy with it.

It began yesterday afternoon, after I left the church. It always begins there; something about the auditorium - the way the room makes me feel afterward. Off, in my balance, the way I sway in my head, and then on my feet, or off my feet.

I just can't tolerate the red any longer. I apologize for the color changes.

When I got home, the migraiane hit me - Hrd! I laid on the couch, and the sounds arond me became so loud, and I was so cold. Frank was out mowing the lawn. When he came in and found me, he sent me to bed with 2 Toradol and a Zofran. But it didn't help. I had hoped it would. It didn't. I couldn't eat dinner. Just gingerale. I went to bed, and then I got up this morning to the amazing technicolored and thickness of my aura. I am still trying to get thru it all. My head is still swimming, my balance off. I'm still fighting the pain. Naturally, I'm thinking of the list I have to do; laundry - the pile of it! It never ends. The lists of school supplies for the kids came this weekend - so I need to get that done. School shopping must get started. My house is a mess again. I don't clean on the weekend anymore, taht time is for my family.

The kids and I had a blast on Friday, we hit a few garage sales, it was so much fun. Cinderisa was reluctant, but was later glad she went. She was able to find some great buys of her own. We found games, sweaters, Nicholas was able to buy himself 2 baseball bats!!! They even threw in a Yanks cap wit the bats. A new little deco for my car. Yes, Cassie, the Yanks are rocking your Sox this weekend!!!!!! "Who's your Daddy???!!!"

For now, I need to get myself motivated as best I can despite my little brewing storm front. I hate giving in to it. I do know it will get me eventually, not now however. I have things to do. Driving is out of the realm of possibilites today. I'm not stupid, cautious. Home is where I'll stay, get things done here.

I hope all in Migraineland have a better day
deborah

New Club in Town

CLUBLIBBYLU - Oh yeah! If you haven't yet visited, go on over! THIS is where I want MY next birthday party. I don't care how old I am, or young, or whatever - this is the place for parties!! I'd heard about it, read about it in the paper when the door opened; but had yet to see it for myself. Now I'm hooked. Talk about playing dress-up! I thought the folks at "Build-a-Bear" knew what they were doing to come into the cash flow arena, they've got nothing on Miss Libby.

Let me just say first, my favorite and ONLY color for about 10 years, was pink. I had purses, socks, shoes, jewels, pants, shorts, shirts - you get the idea - in only pink. I was told I even "smelled Pink." Imagine that. My mother used to tell me I looked like I was wearing the same thing over and over. I didn't care; it was my color of choice and I couldn't get enough of it. Over the years, I learned to appreciate other colors of the rainbow and stretched my horizon in apparel with those colors. And now, I have the Cat Mawler, who also loves pink. A (step) grand daughter, who can be fashioned in pink, a neice, age 5, who can be adapted to the color as well. Cinderisa is more of a this color girl, and a little of this, with lots of this. So getting her into anything remotely near that side of the rainbow is a lost cause.

Until we stepped into fashionista land of Club Libby Lu, add a little "TA DA" with that and some fairy dust, and you're onto my side of the fence. My sister Denise, used to call me Miss Priss, when we were growing up - to that I say, "what everrr" and flip my hair. (fairy dust sprinkling around me). Even Cinderisa was enjoying herself, dressed herself in pretty pink boas, cowgirl hats, and crowns.

I suppose I should set the scene: I'm just rambling with excitement about the place. Me, the Power Ranger, Cinderisa, Cat Mawler; Terri, Amy, her friend Sara and her grandma. Oh, and I forgot, we had Vanessa!!!! (grand daughter - step) whatever. Anyway, we go in, and I'm in literal, "AWWW" over the place, I think we each went our seperate ways to investigate; there were clothes for your stuffed pooches, real pooches, kids, crowns - hey I believe every girl should have a crown - actually they were tiaras. For the Cat Mawlers delight, there was an entire wall of lipglosses and gels. She has a thing about lip gloss! Let me just tell you bout the purses: One was of a guitar, and the strap was the neck - way cool. Even my little drummer Cinderisa, yeah her, was getting in on the fun - she was playing dress up!!!! One purse, I may actually get her, Rock Diva, in black!!! I was having so much fun. They even have hair extensions - in a fascinating variety of color. Terri and I were trying those on. Mona, (grandma) was wearing a tiara, Amy and Sara had on the pink cowgirl hats. Before we were rushed out the door, by the not so friendly young (teen ager) manager; I spotted the bins of (insert concerto musico here) (and twinkles) Fairy Dust ! Now, we were in trouble, because we just couldn't contain ourselves - none of us - we were sprinkling each other, and giggling and just having a ball! Then we were (asked) to leave.

But, I want my next birthday party at Club Libby Lu. I don't care if they believe I'm too old! Let them say that to my face. I want to sit and have me and my friends made up, fairy dust and all, hair twisted into pincurls and pony tails, with pink extensions. Insert my tiara, ahem, crown on top, boa around the neck, sprinkle a little fairy dust. Call it a great day. What could they say? They'd probably get a kick out of it. Bunch of 40-something (you're welcome Ter!) ladies in for a party, to get all dolled up. That's it, I'm setting it up!!!! Anyone else who wants to join the party is more than welcome!

On a side note: my sis, Jamie invited the kids and I to come over for a swim yesterday - Rockhead too. It was pretty hot, so they got their suits and off we went. Rocco and Riley were in their glory, happily running and peeiing with each other, dog-butt sniffing kind of day for them. Her MIL came home from work and was able to meet Rocco, in her yard. Now poor Joanne is not what you call an 'animal person.' She will tell you so. So having Jamie's dog is one thing, having my beast, is something of - let's just say, bull in china shop in comparison. He's a large drooling idiot. It was hot, he was running, panting, and drinking. Got the picture? Seen "Hootch?" That is Rocco! Gross, I know; but to know this dog, is to love him. He is a senseless wonderbeast.

"Oh my Lord!" I believe were the first words to come out of her mouth when she came out. To which, he just had to give her the ol' doggy HELLO!! Butt sniff, which usually is followed by his 20 pound head trying to lift you off your feet. She was very calmly trying to shoo him away. Jamie and I just laughed.

Then he was terrified! Yes, my staunch protector was terrified, by Craig. her son - age, 20 I think. He walked to the slider, Rocco saw him, backed up, and started barking and yelping in horror, hair standing up and all. He ran behind Joanne's chair first, and then Jamie's. This dog was scared! Hysterical. I told him it was the AC/DC pjamys he had on. Stupid dog.

I can't wait to go Christmas shopping - I know, but just look at your calendar, it's time to start the dredded lay-away! I'm determined to get most of it completed before Christmas Eve! My first place to go, is Libby Lu - where I will, no doubt, spend too much on the little princesses in my life. The one's who will stilll wear pink and pretty things. I used to dress my girls in dresses and bows all of the time. They've outgrown that for some time! But now there are the little one's in the family - I CAN'T WAIT!!!!!!

And then, in March, I'm having my birthday party at Club LibbyLu. A few of my favorite girlfriends and I will be getting ourselves made over, and then go celebrate our new fasion. The Cat Mawler just asked if she could come along. Hmmmm, I'm not sure yet. Maybe just the older ladies this time! She's bumming. Hey, we didn't have this kind of crap when we were growing up. We just raided Mom's closet.

I now fully understand the statement, "It hurts to be beautiful." It has nothing whatsoever to do with physical pain. Unless of course, you're so vain you're having silicone shoved into your chest cavity, or collegen into your lips. (inserts Cher's scary face here). So anyway, what that statement really means is, it hurts you financially! The cost of beauty is painful. Truly painful. I, being the 'high-maintenace Queen Bee' that Frankie says I am, and I really am; need special soaps, sensitive skin. I have a strange preference for my beauty products. I have a Victoria's Secret card and I know how to use it. They have the best make up, and it doesn't make my skin erupt, itch or break out! I love their silkening lotions and use only two of their scents - I'm hooked. I can wear them, without the fear of the dreaded monster attacking my brain.

Yes, it hurts to be beautiful - an I'm in agony. But damn it, I'm going to LibbyLu for my birthday!

Today's post is dedicated to Amy. Her best friend is leaving today for the Army, and she is, well - bummed! Ryan is an absolute sweetheart. So maybe this should be to both of them. I've known Amy for all of her life, and Ryan for just a few short years; but they are both very dear to me, to my kids, mostly to each other.

Pics: This is Amy, and her brother Michael. I will post about them probably a lot. Their Mom, she's the cigar-smoking friend listed at the top of my blog. I love these 3 people. My kids, these kids - are like cousins, family; that is how close we are. We know each other inside out. Terri and I, MOM, have had more fun together with these poor unsuspecting children in their lives.........like the time we hung Amy's thongs out in the driveway as warning! TMI yeah, I know. But she wasn't supposed to wear them!!! (I'm dead for this, but we were about peeiing our pants doing it!) Hey, Ter - SH*T!!!!!! LOL

This is Ryan - and the crazy lady with the knife, is none other......what a sweetheart, sitting there all nice and calm while I'm ready to knife the guy! He really is such a great young man. Poor Miss Amy. I can't believe she is already starting her first year of college. What happens to the time? What will the time do to them? To change them, I mean. How will they turn out? She after her college career, he after boot camp, training, and unfortunately, war. I'm worrying this same thing about my stepson, Philip, who also will be leaving in just a few short weeks. These children are our future leaders. Some of that thought scares me to no end. And knowing them, comforts me as well.

The first picture ^ shows Christine, total lunatic, gotta love her. I just wonder what she will turn out to be. Michael was a "geek" for Halloween. He was a great geek, too. Funny kid; he and Cinderisa have grown up together, their b'days are only 5 days apart - yeah, that was planned! they go to school together, hang out together - did a cool rendition of Green Day for the talent show, they had the light show and everything, Mike sang and played guitar, Cinderisa on drums - the schoolkids went nuts! It was awesome! While the other kids did their songs with lip-synch - ours did the real deal. We have some pretty neat kids. The tall one in the back - that's Cassie. She plays guitar. She is another true blonde! I love these kids, their a trip to be around.The Cat Mawler was Miss America, Cinderisa was a gypsy, and I think you can pretty much tell what the Power Ranger wasn't. Safe to say, he will be this year! No, Cassie isn't on a stool; she really is that tall!

I remember when Philip was sworn in for the Marine's. You could hear a pin drop. This young man, who wore his pants like he had no hips, shoes untied, shirt oversized and slouched over his butt; suddelny had to TIE those shoes, pull UP the pants, TUCK in the shirt, and latch the belt thru the correct hole. It was an amazing makeover. Then there was the facial hair that had to be removed before he could enter the plane. I'm sure Ryan will be going thru his own little makeover. Nothing like he'll ever encounter, or has ever before.

And Amy is on her way to her own little piece of growing up world. No more "spinny dresses" for Amy. Now she drives her own car, will be going TO COLLEGE! Wow, Alexa would have been, too. But it wasn't meant to be for her. It is for Amy, and I will pray for her, a life of health, intelligence and prosperity. She is such a sweet child, with a sweet heart for people. This transition is going to be hard for her, leaving her bestest friend. It's so hard to watch someone you love, leave. But it's good for both of them. Another growing experience.

Now, Terri, my friend, you have a growing experience of your own. Don't worry, Frankie already has a cigar for you! I know that watching Ryan leave is going to be hard on you, too. But I think Amy going to college is going to have such a huge impact on all of you. GIRL YOU MUST BE FEELING OLD!! At least you don't look it. Yet. I know, I'm such a b*tch!!!!! It's good to have friends such as we. I have the wine, Frank has cigar - we'll make sure you are comfy and not too blue. I think it's called "Empty Nest Syndrome"

I'm dead! I know - my blog though. Wkhat are friends for, right? Stop by, come with us Saturday to see One Sweet World. sure to help you beat the blues.

For those who missed the golden opportunity last time, they will be in the area again this Saturday. If you love DMB, you will love this tribute band, check them out at www.onesweetworld.net. And then, check them out in your area. My little plug for the day.

Have a great weekend all. Amy I love you, and let Ryan know when you talk to him, in like 10 minutes, that I will pray for him and I will miss him.

deb

Oh, what to write about???? I'm in a complete FOG. I must say, I love the color thing. I woke up this morning, seeing some fuzzy swirling color thingys. My girls were just telling me yesterday that I need to start painting again. As if I can really paint. Let's just say NOT! But what I am going to try my hand at, is my own personal little world of ;aura and the way I have been seeing it coming at me, in it's little triangles and swirls, geometrical dances, flashes of brilliant blues and hues and streaks and streams of light. I'll let you know how it comes out.

I have this incredibly huge and ugly wall that is made up of Tennessee marble, in mostly this color grey oh and white. Yeah, ugly I know. That is in my living room, which used to be mine, ALL MINE, until we were flooded and the volkswagon (TV) had to come up out of the family room. (Right, another blog!) So, I need color in that room! In a big way. The wall is roughly 8' x 15' - yeah, floor to ceiling white and grey marble - cold! I need color. There is a fireplace in the middle of it. I've been on the lookout for an old mantlepiece to erect around it, or an old section of barnwood for a mantle to go across the wall... Yayyy. It's really quite ugly, I assure you. So I'm thinking, an aura, a great peice of old, aged barnwood bolted to the wall, and I've got myself a great start to some good-looking room! I have the "safari" theme packed away, as I got sort of bored with that look, but am willing to give that a second try elsewhere. Any suggestions, would be greatly appreciated. For now, I'm going with the aura design.

Then it's on to the downstairs bathroom. In my head, it's done; Robin's-egg blue, kind of, but not necessarily this. Man, I am bored!

Must be the tame weather. The kids and I were on a cleaning frenzy this morning - this after the attack of the killer aura (sing to the tune of "killer tomatoes") That is now the 'song of the day!' You're welcome. Cinderisa has not only cleaned the pigsty, but has rearranged it as well. I'm amazed, she has found socks! Power Ranger, free from his little (ahem, RIGHT) meltdown, was actually able to clean his room by himself - how dare I? Someone PLEASE call child services - where IS the number??????? Cat Mawler, well, it was easy, her room is never really a mess. She painted her nails. (She's going to a friend's today, and when she gets back, her room is secretly going to be rearranged!!) I am so mean, I know!

I have a habit of not liking things to stay. I don't like change, but rooms MUST be rearranged on a constant basis. I'm getting better at this. I used to do it almost weekly. Really. Now I'm doing this on more of a - oh, more monthly basis. Wow, I'm slacking! It's from the stinking migraines. I've been wanting to move a certain piece of furniture from one area of the house to another; but for fear of Frank reading this and finding out, I just can't say. But it's been driving me completely mad just thinking of it. So eventually, it must be moved. I'm thinking "eventually" is today. But can I actually pull it off? Well, maybe with Cinderisa's help. If not, maybe I'll just stick to changing the Mawler's room for today and work on the other tomorrow. Newsflash - 2 of her friends (boys) are on their way over, perhaps they can move it up for me. I'm just awful! Time to go clear it off! I'll let you know how it looks. Then on to the Mawler's room and then perhaps the painting. Musn't let boredom set in. No, never let that happen.

One little thing I forgot to mention - the reason I got started in rearranging my furniture - this is SO mean. My girlfriend and I call it the "Helen Keller" - I used to purposly move furniture around to make Alexa get used to learning a new routine thru the house. This way, she would have to actually get off of her knees, and onto her feet and move around the house instead of crawling/running on her knees. She would actually have to "W A L K" How awful am I???? Yeah, then, when she would get mad, because the furniture was moved, and she'd yell - LOUD, we'd just call her, "Helen" and tell her to get up and move!

she had a speech therapist that wanted her to use a communication board, too. But I insisted she learn to talk instead. So I refused to allow her to use any, and I mean any means of communication other than speaking. I'm just mean that way! She learned to speak. Which she was doing quite well at home at the time. But at school, she was grunting and pointing - hence, the reason I opted OUT of a communication device. What a terrible mother! Poor Helen!

As a result, the little miss can both get around furniture and sweet talk her way thru the room quite well if needed. She only trips when I put my foot in front of her. KIDDING!!! Jeesh!

Down I go

Just when you think life can't get anymore difficult, the floors go crooked-again. The ice pick got me, I think it started on Thursday, subtle at first, but by yesterday, it was wreaking havoc on my nervous system. Literally! Each time hte pick would hit, my face went numb, then arm, and my legs mostly the right, wouldn't move for me. For the outsiders that watch, wondering what's wrong with me, it must seem odd that a (ahem) 30ish young women would be walking with these giant steps and hunched over, holding my head, (don't want it to roll off!) I'm sure it's scary to watch. But for me it's almost funny - like, here we go again. What next? Frank and I just take it in stride, and we did laugh at the giant steps and akward movements I was making, the muscle-twitching, the lack of my legs moving. I can deal with tht paart, it's the pain I can't seem to handle so well. It just hits so hard and so fast, out of nowhere. My speach has been affected with it as well, but I think that came with the numbing more than anything. My face, lips and tongue were all feeling, rather not feeling the same thing - tingling sort of buzzing. Not the same as the lft side.

When I'd try to straighten myself, my muscles will shake and tremble as if they're telling me they've had enough. There is a metal taste in my mouth again, and I remember having this before; something wicked is coming on, I can feel it inside me. And my dog, Rocco, the aura warrior, is by my side crying constantly, knowing that something is up. What IS it that he senses? A smell?

We had Christina's litle play lastnight and it was so neat. The Summer Music Activities for Kids, I can't wait until next year when Nicholas can join. There was the pianists section, the rythm section - which was a favourite by all - especially Nicholas! Marisa would have loved that. The drama, which Chrissy and her two friends that went last week were in - they wre so cute, and they had a choir section. It was very well put together. But the auditorium always sends me into a major migraine, and it did lastnight. Head spinning, picked, and my neuro was OFF. It's getting to that point now. I'm not sure if I need to call my doc or ride it out. There is always a big question mark that cmes with this. But I suppose if it gets to be too much for me to handle, I'll call.. For now, it's abortive, and a prayer because that is all I havefor now.

My prayers are going out to my friend in AZ today. I wish you well, hoping this new doc will be wise and helpful.

Wishing all a pain-free day
deborah

On Sweetness

This is Alexa. She is my oldest, and probably my sweetest child. Now before anyone starts to think I am playing favorites; let me explain: She is what you call, "special" or oh
"different?" She is multiply handicapped ok. But don't tell her that. To me, she is just plain SWEET. She does have her moments, like the rest of them, don't get me wrong. For the most part, this child is an absolute little darling. And sweetness really does depict her title.

Alexa has a few other, rather ugly titles, that I may as well get out of the way; but they do NOT define her, by any means. She has Cerebral Palsey. Mental Retardation. Epilepsy. Central Motor Retardation. Autism. She sounds simply terrifying, doesn't she?? To some, yes. But not to those that truly know her.

She has defied obstacles higher than most adults, really. When she was only a wee little thing of 6 months old, her Daddy and I were told that, "she would never walk, never talk, that she would be nothing but a lovely wall flower. Perhaps an institution would be best." At 6 months old. How does one deciper that in an infant?? We just looked at her, whether it was denial or love, and refused to believe it would never take place; we left with our baby and made other arrangements. I would bring her to Physical Therapy three times a week for the next year, to get her chubby (fat) legs and tummy muscles into shape. She started with a program at 18 months, with Occupational , Speach, and Physical Therapy as well as a teacher who would come to our home; they worked with her four days a week. To her it was more like play, for me, it was watching this sweet little girl making strides that I was told she would never make. At the same time, I was watching my neice and my girlfriend's daughter accelling at a rate of speed, that seemed like that of a Nascar driver. When Lexi was in slow-motion in comparison. But we were happy for all of them, each for their own individuality, their successes. And especially for Alexa's strides as she made them.

On her first birthday, she was able to sit up, unattended for the first time! And we got the picture.



Of course, it took many more weeks before she was able to do it again, but she was able to do it on the day of her party! AND, contrary to the doctor's belief - she also did learn to walk! It took a few years, but she learned. She started with a walker at 3. We took it everywhere. EVERYWHERE!
In this pic, Amy is actually excited for her, but Alexa is mad because everyone is in the way and she can't just GO. She became very fast with the walker. We would take her to the mall, and just let her GO, and people would 'learn' to get out of her way, she was relentless. She didn't have the words to tell them to move, but she would have that, "get outta my way" attitude, if you know what I mean. Her voice would let out this loud growl and she'd get all excited, and run. Her braces went up to her knees, and I would make these padded knee covers for her, because, when she wasn't using the walker, she was actually running on her knees. And this girl could run on her knees. Here she is taking her first steps without the walker, age 4. She was so proud of herself. She has this little way of expressing her excitement, we call it, "flapping her wings," they call it Autism - whatever. Either way, it is Lexi. When she gets excited, she wiggles her arms and fingers like she's ready to take flight, like this:

In this last pic, she had just celebrated her 15th birthday in her new home; yes, her new home. When she was 14, she moved into a group home with 4 other girls, not unlike herself. They are all the same age. I wish I could show pics of these girls, but for safety reasons, I cannot. Their stories are not the same as ours.

My reason for sending my daughter to a home are not so horrific, as some may think. I used to believe she would live with me for the rest of her life. And then she hit puberty, and then, she hit ME! And tried to toss me down a flight of stairs. But that is just the ugly side of her disability. The side I wasn't trying to hit onto. I suppose you don't go ablogging about this without going there. I really did think I could handle keeping her home with me; but I just couldn't. She became something of a nightmare. And at the time, my marriage had dissolved, my life was changing, so I was changing her life at the same time as well as my other children's lives. We were all going through a hard time.

My other kids were wanting to get involved in basketball and cheerleading and school plays and regular activities that kids get involved in at school. And I was always telling them they couldn't "because of Alexa." We could never sit through a play, because she would scream half-way thru and one of us would need to escort her out. Or I'd need to be at a meeting, there was the diaper dilema, the fact that she really just wouldn't tolerate being a 'normal child', can you stand it, anywhere we went.

She became a raging lunatic in my home as well. Nicholas was a toddler, in diapers also. Yes, so was she. They shared a room. In the morning, despite hiding wipes, diapers, powder; she was a pro at finding them, and I would know by the smell as I'd climb the stairs what I was going to find. First, it would be the cloud, the baby-scented cloud that would, no doubt take weeks to clear. When I'd open the door, I'd see the evidence; both she and Nicholas were covered in baby powder - it would be EVERYWHERE. Then she would just scream. Of course, the wipes would be from one end of the room to the other, as well as the dresser drawers, emptied, clothes EVERYWHERE! Then there was the toy box, need I say more. It was endless. This was a daily happening. And of course, she and the baby would have a load in their pants. I'd need to just rewet the wipes from the floor, as there were none in the boxes.

At this point, I'm both pissed and crying. Anxious for the bus to pick her up, and wondering how much more I can take. (No wonder I have Migraines, right!) In the meantime, I have my case worker trying to locate a respite host for the weekends, because my nerves have been frayed and well, I'm about to lose my cool. I remember, very well, thinking to myself, and actually telling Denise, my case worker, "I understand how people can abuse their kids! And I DON'T want to get to that point!"

It was at the same time, this home came into the making - by God's grace, for both me and Alexa. And I believe, for the rest of the girls in the house. As soon as it came about, Denise called me, and I gave her a loud, "YES" and we were on the way to getting Lexi in. It took forever, it seemed; but she is in, and has been there almost 4 years now. I can't believe it as I write it!! It was the hardest thing I have ever done. No, leaving my husband was the hardest thing. This was the second hardest, it tore my heart out. It tears my heart each and every time I leave her still. But I know, without a doubt, that it is by far, the best thing for her.

Frank and I took her to dinner on Friday night. We went to this WAY overpriced dive in B'ville, (which reminds me, I need to write Yolanda about), anyway, she just had me in stitches the entire time. There was a time she called him, "Boink," and now it's "Prank". I'm not sure if it's for fun and amuzement on her part or if she just can't say Frank, but she enjoyed herself.

She is very loud, she doesn't understand "SHHH" or "quiet" and when he asked her to keep it down I told him I didn't care if she was loud and if anyone else had a problem, they could address me. I never, and I mean NEVER have a problem with anyone who wants to address me with those issues. As it was, the geaser behind me let out a FART and didn't have the decency to say, "excuse me," so I wasn't about to let a little retardation get in the way! Nobody had a problem with her.

When she was little, she would get the most adoring "oohs and aahhs", and then she got her first little wheelchair, buggy we called it, and people would stair at her kinda funny-like, wondering what was wrong with her. I have a big mouth, really I do. So I would say, "I know, you're thinking she's adorable aren't you?" They would just get all embarrassed and shocked and say something stupid. Usually walk away real fast. GOOD. So in short, yeah, this is sweetness, Alexa, or as we call her, Lexi. Other than her 'moments' she really is very sweet. She loves Barney, cheese, pizza, potatoes-mashed and about 3 pounds of them! no joke, music, the computer, and the girls are jealous because she has her own in her room, WITH A TOUCH SCREEN, way cool! She loves macaroni and cheese, pasta, pasta pasta, meatblls, chicken, salad, and I'm finding she'll eat pretty much anything you give her now. She can't go anywhere without a 'mirror' which is a small, hand-held etch-a-sketch. It's her thing. She also loves the people who care for her, as do I. Because they do a wonderful job.

I remember when Denise was telling me about the home and what is involved; she said that sometimes her hair may not be as clean as I clean it, or her shirt may not match her pants, but these are the things I need to overlook, as long as she is happy and well-cared for. and she is - BOTH. She is a happy young lady, a very sweet and happy young lady. She is well cared for and very loved. And I know that when I can't take her home becuse I've been ill, she is being cared for. She has one girl, Jes, who takes her to her Mom's to go swimming. This girl works at the home with Lexi. She is wonderful with Alexa.

So that's who "Sweetness" is. Sometimes she's pure onion, but most times she is just plain sugar. Always, she is Lexi

Parks and Rec Update

Believe it or not, I actually did get a call back. Of course, with an excuse of, "With 100 kids there needs to be order, and sometimes it seems to taken as offensive."

To which I replied, "These were little kids, sitting quietly, in the first place!! Big guy (idiot) in charge, walking with bat-in-hand, in threatening manner, teens also in charge yelling 'silent lunch!' at already quietly sitting children, who were very intimidated by the entire scene. I didn't see anything remotely out of order, other than your man in charge!" I also mentioned the fact that the kids weren't allowed to play on the playground, he slamming his bat on the gym floor and hollering at the kids and other endless behavior my kids witnessed on only two days there.

He agreed it was inappropriate, and that I would find it better suited to my needs if I were to bring the kids back. Yeah, that's what I'll do! I told him, that they would NOT be returning, nor would my neighbor's children.

My husband had an even better idea, why not call children services? But then, read the paper; six times at one home and a five-year old, weighing 15 pounds, was neglected by chilren's services! So what good does that do? I suppose we as parents need to be our own advocates in this case. I'm just glad I listened to my gutt instinct, followed it, made a call; whether or not it does ANY good, my conscience is guilt-free. Hopefully, when the kids saw the commissioner at Parks and Rec yesteday, questioning the gestapo, they knew they would have perhaps a safer, more fun week.

Isn't that what they are entitled to? A safe and fun environment?

So blah blah blah, there you have that! In a nutshell.

I am now living with my 'wonderful migraine storm' of the week. I'm blaming it on P and R. I knew it was coming, had the aura to prove it earlier in the week, the nudges have been in the eyesight every moring. And now, SLAMMED! Woke up with a little 3, slowly it has been working it's way up uP UP to a, now 7. Like a kid on a pogo stick, it's jumping from my stomach to my head. Here we go with the round of meds/drugs, fluids. Let's see if I can win this round. Hmmmm, something is telling me................nope, not this time aroung girlfriend! Been lucky too long! It's actually feeling pretty ugly right about now. That tired, sinking feeling; eyes stinging, watery, the screaming in my left ear is starting now. The entire right side of my head has been playing this on and off game of numbing and buszzing from lip to cheek for the past week now. (note to self, start writing this down for doc!) Thank God I get to see him tomorrow about all this crap. I was going to talk to him about going down on some meds. I'd still like to do that.

So when do we get to do that? Go down on or off the meds? Sorry, need to get off the computer now.
wish you all weell. pain-free days
deboarah

Bitchfest

So I'm sitting here, with this knot in my stomach; and it's not a new knot, it's been here for a few weeks. It won't leave me ALONE! I've become close to a raging lunatic, waiting for someone to set me off; some poor unsuspecting slob to just push my buttons one last time and BANG, I just may burst - wide open - into something of a nut case. And I think I may have met him this morning. But.....I'm also trying to keep my patience. Yeah, good luck with that, Deb.

This week I decided to try something new with the kids, something to combat boredom, defeat the mid-summer blues, pre-back-to-school doldrum; and in the same breath get some much needed housecleaning and sanity in order. So, I signed them up for a little activity in the morning at church - Summer Music Activities for Kids, SMAK for short. Followed by Parks and Rec directly, for the remainder of the day; do not pass "GO" or anything else, for that matter. All kids gone for the day, I'm giddy inside just thinking about it while I'm getting them there.

And then, I meet HIM!! The one I'm assuming my rage may take place upon. This guy is in charge of say, 20 teens who oversee roughly 75 kids who come and go throughout the day for fun and games, activities and most who are there for the entire day until their parent's come to pick them up after work. Now, I'm thinking that my kids, and the three others I've brought along, are there for pure entertainment, I'm soon to learn otherwise. This 'Stalin-like' creature is yeilding a baseball bat when I came at lunchtime to pick up 3, and drop off 3. I'm dropping the drama queens from SMAK and getting Cinderisa, Cassie and Nicholas, who is now clinging to my leg and cowerring as he watches Sir Stalin pacing through the grounds with his bat. The teens are literally yelling to the kids, mind you ages 5-14 years old!!!!!, and they are yelling for them to "BE QUIET, OR NO PLAY TIME!!!" So you know, these kids were actually being quiet while they were sitting down eating their lunches. I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. Literally. I wasn't sure if I was getting the whole picture or not. Stalin comes up to me, as Cinderisa is telling me, "Chrissy's right, MOM, they are mean!" and he says,
"She's probably telling you I'm mean. It's just a facade!" To which I reply,
"Yeah, I'm sure it is" in a very sarcastic (yeah, me, I know!) manner.
So now we go find the girls, and they still want to stay, (blondes) so I tell them I'll be back at 3.

Needless to say, my kids will NOT be going back! I can't wait to tell Frank, as I'm SURE he knows SOMEONE who runs Parks and Rec - as he knows everyone somewhere!

When the girl's mom got here to pick them up, I let her know what a "DICK", in those words he was! I think I freaked her out, because she'd been hearing it from the girls, but one is a drama queen and they've been reluctant to go out of boredom, so you just never know, as a parent what to believe. It's hard!

OH I almost forgot!!!! The school has a terrific playground which, by the way, our tax dollars paid for with, I must say, a great sacrifice, and here's the kicker - they weren't ALLOWED TO PLAY ON IT!!!!!!!! So here is my (insert major potty mouth here) question of the day: What on earth does P A R K S AND
R E C stand for????? If you're not allowed to use the park?

So I sit, still raging, wondering, why is it I didn't lose it on this asshole? Well, there were kids there. Although, they probably would have cheered me on and called me hero, carried me on their shoulders to the playground, this after we beat the DAYLIGHTS OUT OF STALIN WITH HIS BLOODY BAT!!!!! Right, waking up right now. Cheering gone from the braindream. Reality again.

What makes people think they need to be so above everyone else? Especially little kids like that? I'm sure the teens in charge were just acting under his supervision; no excuse, but it was wrong - all of it was wrong!

So tomorrow, a phone call is in order for me, I believe. Yes, and for any child that has to go for the remainder of the week, I just hope their Mom and Dad will listen to them, with a softer heart and make a call, complain. Or maybe just ask another parent if perhaps they are getting the same reaction from their children.

If your child is in a program, and has a complaint - listen - they just may be warrenting a real complaint.

Dancing Nancies

They looked something like this; geometrical whirling, black and white objects dancing around, at first in a nice slow motion. They were triangular and diamond in shape, each making up circles. Dancing left, then right, slowly picking up speed. I was totally mesmerized, trancelike. And then, with a "zipping" sound, the brilliant blue (like this blue actually), came in a flash, from the right eye, in a beam that stopped directly in my vision. I couldn't escape it or the sound, which was getting louder and louder. Then with the sound came the piercing pain in my left ear, the stinging of the sewing needle; and the numbing of my lips, and the black sand that drowned my sight of only the right eye. At this point, the spinning of the shapes was getting faster and bigger behind the beam, and the scream was louder. Finally, I woke up, but it was STILL THERE. Stink, it wasn't a dream afterall. It's another aura, which means, well, you know and I know what the beautiful yet scary dreamlike aura mean - Migraine. Whether it comes early or later today; hangs on all day in it's typical 3-4 form and then pounces on me at a raging 8 or 9 is to be dreaded. The anxiety is the hateful part.

There have been days where I've had the aura, not like this one, and no migraine. But this baby, tells me that something new is brewing. Yesterday, there was the 'lead-pipe-to-the-back-of-the-head' as I call it. And that is pretty much what it feels like. I'm just sitting there minding my own business, and out of completly nowhere, BAM I get nailed with what feels like a bat or pipe or someone hitting me with something hard and long, smack in the back of my head. It's literally brought me to my knees at times, makes my eyes water just from the pain it brings on. Frank can always tell when that hits just from what I do, head juts forward FAST like something hit me. I just wonder what is going on in my head at that particular time that makes that intense pain occur. It's like someone has a voodoo doll of me, (ME?) and just wacks her with a little hammer, for the fun of it.

Maybe the aura today are the stars I should've seen yesterday from the voodoo blow. My own Dancing Nancies I saw this morning, I really should've seen when I got whacked. Maybe one day, that final blow, will be the one I hear inside my head . The "popping" I hear deep inside my skull, that makes my legs go weak and stupid, that makes my lips go numb and I lose the feeling on the side of my face, will one day be loud and strong enough to be just that, a final blow. It makes me wonder, the sounds, what are they? It's not in my ear, where I hear them. Do you hear them? Do you wonder what they are?

So what are they? Does anyone know? Wishing all a pain-free day.
deborah