Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Randomness Beyond Bounds

So, I haven't had much to say in a while - or rather, not much to say in the actual form of words.  My thoughts lately have been centered around a mass of mumbles, grumbles, whimpers, tears, growls, and sometimes the general hollow ringing of an infrequently empty shell of a mind.

Christmas is now, by the time on the clock, officially in TWO F'IN DAYS.  Do you know what we have accomplished in regards to this mockery of a holiday?
Dinner:  Every last bit and piece STILL at the store.  Recipes to be rifled through to make my final determinations as to *which 6* (yes, 6) different cheesecakes I will be making for Christmas.  Greyson has yet to see Santa, because the night we were *supposed* to go, it decided to DOWNPOUR.  I couldn't evenget good photos of the light displays because it was raining THAT hard - I have water orbs filling the entrire foreground of every single shot.  Since that night, the weather here in Chicago has gone WONKY.  It rained ICE, then it froze solid layers of it over our cars that I had to bust through on a FREEZING ASS COLD morning last Monday to get to the Pain Clinic - to be told that, YES, the x-rays on my neck show no structural abnormalities (other than the extra vertebra which in turn causes an extra curve where my thoracic meets the cervical), so *we are discharging you from physical therapy, even though your averages on the pain scale have only decreased by about 1.5.  Go. Me. *thwack*
Oh, and the presents?  *insert maniacal laughter here*  Not only am I in possession only ONE DS game, ONE pair of pants, and a digital microscope for Greyson, but I have NO cards, and the 'Christmas Letters' that I was going to send out to friends and family?  The paper is still in the package, along with the envelopes, in my filing cabinet drawer.  Heh.  They have officially decided to become "New Year's Letters" due to a case of 'Momma is in a Funk-dom'.
We are planning the *food* shopping portion of Christmas today (Tuesday), as well as (hopefully) taking Grey to see Santa.  Though I'm trying to calculate in my head if we should attempt to finish gift shopping today, and Santa tomorrow... I don't know exactly what the final stats will be until I though the idea out to my Mom.
BUT!  You wanna hear the *fun* part?  Here's me, and my mom, with a cane from a bad foot and ankle after three separate surgeries on it, after being dumped on by layer upon layer of ice and snow to what is literally about waist-high on Greyson... with a snowblower whose auger has chosen to stop turning.  In all this mess, the hubby tried to just PUSH the snow with it, and slipped the chains off one of the tires.  And then left it at that.  Neither car is in the driveway, because if we could get them in... we probably wouldn't be able to get them out. 
I was carrying Greyson in from the car late Saturday night (after driving for TWO HOURS to get home from my SIL's house, when my foot slipped and I thought we were both going down.  Luckily, I stayed standing, but I had a sheer streak of pain go burrowing not only down my leg, but all the way across my lower back to the previously UNaffected side.  Today, again, I thought I was gonna wind up on my ass out there, because the snow HAS NOT EVEN BEEN SHOVELED!
I think someone's waiting for Suzy Snowflake to bring her little elves or some shit, because I sure as FUCK am not shoveling all the goddamn snow with pieces of disc sticking out every which way from between my vertebrae!
So, of course, since being discharged from treatment?  Yeah, I've been HURTING.  My GOD, have I.  The cold is NO friend to someone with fibromyalgia, and since it never rose out of the negative digits yesterday, nor above zero today... Eeeeeeh.  Not happy.
I *am* finished* with this term of classes, FINALLY.  I lost 2 friggin points on my PowerPoint final because?  I put too much information into each of the slides.  Oooookay.  I was simply *trying* to meet the "10-slide" format we were given... and STILL went over by 4 slides.  Oh well - class grade going from 100% to a 99%?  So there, and I don't give a damn.
My second class?  Yeah... she said she would have my final paper graded within 24 hours after she sent me a message that she received it...on THURSDAY.  Still don't have it, still don't know my final grade.  *hiss*

Greyson has become a Christmas elf, and is hoarding any and all cards that come in the mail, with an OOH and an AHH and a jubilant burst of "It says MERRY CHRISTMAS!" when he finds one that he can read.  I think he has about 10 in his little pile that just HAS to stay together - so 'Gia' told him we could hang them all up tomorrow.
Me?  I'd rather just stay in my hidey-hole of warmth in bed where there's no further risk of injuring myself.

How SAD is that?  I feel like I'm an at impasse - I'm stuck.  I feel trapped by the weather, because my God, if I were to take one bad fall on the ice?  I might not be able to get back up again.  My son?  I personally cannot do a DAMN thing about gifts for Christmas.  I am just sitting and *waiting* to hear back from this job (as a corrections officer - how funny is THAT?), but that's all I can do on that right now, too.  I feel completely stalled every direction I turn, and my brain is in overdrive, I *think* from the strenuous activities of finsihing these intense, accelerated-pace college classes.  Some days it's hard to turn all that off, and then I wind up researching different methods of evidence recovery, or the stages of rigor and livor mortis, for no explainable reason.  I actually found myself researching the why and how of Santa Claus.  Did I *need* to know?  Absolutely not - but my brain is so geeked-out by this learning again that I literally cannot stop it sometimes.

Greyson has reassured us on several occassions lately about how he IS going to be a doctor when he grows up, with reinforcements of his knowledge about how he KNOWS what is wrong with Mommy's back "see, she has bad discs, down here, between the BONES" and about how "HE can then change Papa's trach for him and help him breathe better with the suction catheter."  YES, he knows all these words, and knows the reasons  behind them.  He wants to "discuss science" every night at bedtime, prying from Mommy every bit of science and medical information I can transform into a three year old's sense of being.  He know knows about his ribs, and his skull, and what they protect, about his heart and lungs and what their functions are...  We have noted on the differences between hearing your voice from the inside as opposed to from the outside, and he knows that your voice is based on your larynx.

I think he really IS gunning towards a medical degree.  Already.  Look out, Doogie Howser!!

Actually, shortly after the new year, he will be scheduled for a developmental evaluation by our school district,so that we can save him a spot in their public preschool in the fall.  Meanwhile, I am going to look into as MANY extracurriculars as I can for him through to then, because this kid NEEDS stimulation and input - and GYMNASTICS.  He is a certified MONKEY, and has started to try and climb the insides of our doorframes, can climb up to my shoulders from the floor (and then proceed to KNEEL on my shoulders once up there)...  He's tall, and he's all lean muscle.  And nothing but ENERGY OHMYGOD.  Nobody warned me about the ATTITUDE that comes with turning three - looking back, two was a BREEZE.  I have honestly threatened to wash his mouth out with soap on a couple occassions.  It just will NOY fly in my house... especially since last week's dinner out turned into me being "the mom with THAT kid" as I carried him out of the restaurant kicking and screaming.  I am completely honest when I tell you that he has NEVER, in his LIFE, acted that way in public before.  I was absolutely embarrassed beyond my limits and ashamed of what had just erupted like Mt. St. Helen's from my little boy.  Yeow.

My stress level is UP, so my sleep level is DOWN again.  Not even a little dosing with the Ambien made it over that chasm that gets ripped open whenever my stress  levels skyrocket.  I do so hope that, maybe, with the drink I am going to pour myself, I will *finally* get some rest tonight.  After all, I have to be a WonderMom tomorrow and tackle three days' worth of activity into ONE.

Have I mentioned my stress?  Heh.

Saturday, December 13, 2008


Aaaaand what *really* sucks is when your non-napping 3 year old son wakes up after only *9* hours of sleep and stays awake for the next 15 hours STRAIGHT.

You'd be tired, right?  Heh.

Too bad that is when my migraine decided to come back.  Along with a pretty massive backache (thanks, Doc, for taking me off my muscle relaxants!  REALLY.  You're TOO kind.) - GAH.

So, here I am... Stuck because the medication I've been on for sleep hasn't been working all too fantabulously for a while now, and I don't see THAT particular doc again until Monday.  And I can't even go all "free-base" (LOL) and take extra, because then I won't have any AT. ALL.

Yeah, me!!

At least the toilet flushes again without spewing forth gallons of PUTRIDITY into the *laundry room for God's sakes* again.  That?  Yeah, THAT would make my skull *completely* crack in two - instead of just feeling like it is.  Fun.

Of course, I don't think the pain would be much different.  Damn.  Then I'd have something to at least blame the damn headache ON.  *sigh*

Did I mention YEAH ME!!!???!?!
I did?

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Secret Santa... Can SUCK IT!

Okay, first off... doesn't that title just make you all warm and fuzzy inside?  Ha!!

So, Bee at Bee's Musings decided that, since this year has been OH so less-than-spectacular, and the majority of us are, well, POOR AS DIRT this holiday season, that a gift exchange of new proportions should evolve...  A "post the photos of the gifts you'd give if you actually cared had the money to do so."

Well, Jormengrund, you've been lucky enough to get yours truly as your Secret Satan Santa! Heh.

So, to start off your extravagant gifts aplenty, how about we address your affinity to, um, try and bust everyone else's balls by being just a *little* ahead of schedule with your jumping-the-gun activities...

That's right... a CALENDAR.  You know, so maybe you can remember what day it is - with the threat of, well, "Animals That Will Kill Your A$$."  Heh.
Or, if it's an abundance of freetime that's causing you to rush to completion...
You can just POP your way into submission of the actual date!!  ROFL  (I think I might want one of these myself!!  Woo!)
On a lighter note, Christmas just canNOT be complete without an appropriate tree:
Decked out with enough lights to make you require optic surgery...
And let's not forget, a special ornament to mark the year that has passed.
NOTHING sums up this past year like an octopus smothering the world in all its tentacley warmth.  Am I right??  *chuckle*
Now, we don't want to forget the wife and kids on this momentous occassion, so how about something the whole family can share?
Yum!  I know for me, there's absolutely nothing that rings in the close of the year and fills your gut *HEH!* with holiday spirit like some crunchy insectile snacks.  Hoo yeah!
So, Jormengrund...  I hope you enjoy your ridiculous heartfelt gifts...
And if not, well...
Santa never really did it for me anyways.  *LOL*

Sunday, December 7, 2008

And Then the OTHER Shoe Fell...

Right now, we're waiting for a plumber AND septic worker to come out to the house.  Why, you ask?

Because last night, the U-pipe under the floor of the bathroom decided, "Hey!  I have a GREAT early Christmas present for these guys!  I'm gonna SPRAY WATER EVERYWHERE whenever someone tries to flush!"


So, it's looking like the seal is busted AND it's highly likely that it's that *wonderful* time to have the septic tank pumped out.  Gah.  While I'm *so* glad I don't have to do their job, they will be *much* happier after leaving here, since the costs are likely to offend in the WORST of places considering the complete lack of fundage within these walls.

Yes, Ralph is working.  But he won't get his FIRST check until the 10th.

My mom is looking at what might be her LAST check, and we have NO idea when disability payments will start.

I have to take my *two hour written test* (what in the world is ON this friggin' test?!?) on the 13th.  If all goes well there, I have a long line of psych evals, background checks, drug and alcohol testing... eek.  So, even if I *do* get this job, I have NO IDEA when I'd be starting.  OR what hours I'd be working - because it's a *requirement* to work rotating shifts around the clock.  What joy. *barf*

We *still* haven't heard back on the appeal over Ralph's unemployment denial.  I think I'm liable to tear someone's head off with my bare hands if it doesn't go through.  Keep an eye out for disembodied cabesas, k?  And then point the cops in the opposite direction of me.  Thanks.

I can feel myself becoming more numb by the day...  how exactly am I supposed to handle all of this?  I'm finding it hard to rely on Grey for my little bits of sunshine, too, because lately?  Dear God, this child is seriously asking for his mouth to be introduced to the taste of Dial, or maybe some Softsoap...  All I know is that I did NOT sign up for the elimination of ages three through twelve - because seriously?  I think I have a miniature teenager in my house.  Granted, he's only about 3'3" and under 30 pounds, but GAAAAHHHHHH!!!    Since when did a three year old's vocabulary include the phrases, "I don't EVER want to hear you say that to me again!" and "You know, I *could* have said _____, but I *didn't*, so you can't get mad at me."


*deep breathing*

And now he's watching cats sing Christmas carols online.  WTF?  I think it's time for some Xanax.

Friday, December 5, 2008

*cough cough*

I'm *still* friggin sick.  I've taken my last dose of antibiotics, and whereas I don't feel as close to death as I did, say, three days ago... all I want to do is crawl into bed and pull the covers up over my head.

For anyone who was wondering?  OH.MY.GOD.  Fibromyalgia is *so* much worse when you're dealing with all-over body aches from being sick.

And PT?  Oh, how I actually miss you.  What I wouldn't give for some massage without having to drive my happy ass through the near-single-digit weather.  Bah.

On another, yet similar note:

Last night, Greyson was practicing his role as "Grumplestiltskin, King of all That is Crabby," and decided to try and evade punishment by (DUH!) hiding out in the kitchen solo (which he is NOT supposed to do at ANY time, be in there unsupervised).  My frustration meter was pushing *past* the red zone for the night, and I firmly told him to "Get his happy butt in the den *right now*!!"

The response I got?

"It's NOT a happy butt, it's a MAD butt!!!"

Needless to say, I had to keep an *extra* strict face as I made sure he sat down, because not two feet away, my Mom was LOSING IT with her face buried in her arms, laughing for the both of us... because SOMEONE has to mean business, right?  LOL

Luckily, Greyson's *mad butt* hasn't made a reappearance today.  Instead it has been replaced with a badly swollen lower lip from slipping and falling on the basement floor when trying to escape the bedroom that he had so tactfully snuck into while I was *trying* to get a little shuteye after Ralph got home.

Needless to say, those efforts were cut short, because Ralph started to freak a bit on the amount of blood coming from Greyson's lip.  Lucky for us, Mommy knows quite a bit in the world of general medical knowledge, and once I got a look at the offending "little" wound - just a bad case of tooth versus lip.  A bit of pressure and some ice did the trick, and I am happy to inform you that I did *not* find it necessary to rush the child out for stitches.  LOL

After all, the kid busted his forehead open on the corner of the coffee tables a few months ago, and doesn't even have a scar now.  And BOY, did THAT bleed.  Eww.  Those damn head wounds and their bloody adventures, I tell ya.  Sheesh.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Ha ha ha... I mean, Ho Ho Ho!

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

The Universe Doesn't Want Gideon's Trumpet to be Read...

Or watched, apparently.  Because of the sheer amount of people asking my CJ Intro professor if there was *any* way to get an extension, my paper (which, durrrr, is about 66% based on Gideon's Trumpet) is now not due until Friday.  Well, the weekend.  SOMETIME BEFORE NEXT CLASS, anyways.  LOL 

I managed to get my hands on a copy of the book... the ONLY copy that my library carries, actually.  They don't even HAVE the movie.  *Waukegan's* library has it, BUT - my house isn't actually IN Waukegan's library "jurisdiction."  What?!?  I can walk north, and be in Waukegan.  I can walk east, and be in Waukegan.  I can walk south, and be in Waukegan.  HOWEVER - if I walk west?  I'm in Gurnee.  And apparently that's enough for Waukegan to tell me to get the hell out of their library.  Heh.

Well, actually they said that I have to go get a card in *my* name at the Gurnee library (which I haven't done because I still haven't gotten my address changed on my license - WHAT?!?  They allow you something like, oh, 4 years or something, don't they?  What's that?  Oh... 60 days?  So I'm about, oh, 300 or something past that - what about it?), THEN come BACK to the Waukegan library with my new card, AND photo ID, AND 2 pieces of mail proving my address... THEN they'll let me check out a limited number of books &/or AV materials.

All I want to do is watch a friggin' movie from 1979, okay?  And apparently, the universe?  She is MOCKING me.  Because last night, I caved and re-upped Netflix at the BARE.MINIMUM.  Because it was either $4.99 for THAT, or $14.99 from Best Buy.  Plus shipping and tax, because ya know, the two closest Best Buys?  DON'T have it in stock EITHER.  Fuuuuu...

So, last night, there I was, all happy and *whew* because not only did my professor hand out an extension, but Netflix!  They get the movie to you the NEXT DAY!  There's no WAY I won't be able to get my paper done now - I *might* even have it in by the original due date (tonight by midnight)!

So sorry, hopeful one.  Here's how my day has gone to this point:

*  Wake up at 9am, trying desperately to breathe through this whatEVER it is that has decided to call my lungs "home."
*  Spend the next 15 minutes or so CURSING Netflix because apparently?  My *local* Netflix distribution center doesn't carry the godforsaken movie EITHER.  It will be shipped from OHIO *tomorrow.*  FUCK.
*  Lug my ass out into the 17-degree weather.  In a sweatshirt AND a leather jacket.
*  Thank the heavens that it didn't snow anymore yesterday AFTER I cleaned my car off to go down to the Waukegan library to be FAILED miserably.
*  Drive the 30 minutes it takes to get to my doctor's office, only the last 20 of which my car was warm for.
*Enter the building, go up in the elevator, walk all the way down two damn hallways to find a PRINTED LETTER taped to the f'in door stating that as of YESTERDAY, my doctor had RELOCATED.  To someplace that is TEN. MINUTES. CLOSER. to my house.  Motherfucker.
Wander my way BACK to the car and call the doctor's office proclaiming that I am now *officially late* and will be even LATER because of their sheer lack to inform me that, HELLO!  We MOVED, ya dummy!
*  Drive ten minutes in the general direction of home to the new office... and have to walk down an even LONGER hallway to get there than in the *first* building.
*  Be ridiculed by the fact that I have gained yet two MORE pounds, all the while consuming less calories than my three year old.  Ask doctor about this since, hmm... she is *always* the one to point out that weight loss = less back stress.  Get told that *3* of my medications can cause weight gain.  NICE.  It's a conspiracy, I tell you - especially since one of them is for my fibromyalgia.  Bastards.
*  Get told that I have bronchitis bordering on walking pneumonia.  Doctor sets up Z-Pak and Phenergan Syrup with Codeine to be called in, along with acid reflux medication in the hopes that I won't wake up choking on my stomach acids anymore.
*  Drive home.  Find three year old has been causing trouble, oh, since he woke up.  But he ate a fried egg for breakfast with cheese.  The joy.
*  Deal with same child arguing the issue of non-hunger until late afternoon.  He manages to *destroy* three pull-ups anyways with alarming calamity.
*  Go to Walgreens to pick up all my medications.  Discover that the insurance won't cover the cough syrup, but I *really* need something to quiet the relentless hacking.  Wind up paying almost *$25* for cough syrup.  Make myself feel better by getting a Glade Scented Oil Warmer starter kit for $1.99.
*  Come home to find son still acting like an ass... but finally amenable to eating lunch - at 3:45.
*  Try to brainstorm for places to build my very own padded cell.

You see?  I'm beginning to think that somewhere along the way, maybe one of the behavior-disordered kids that I used to work with, snipped off a lock of my hair and created themselves a little voodoo doll of yours truly.  And then threw it away.  So now it's being demolished by its adventures through the world of waste management.

Maybe?  Okay, fine.  Things just *suck* and I have to suck it up.  Or rather, I *would* if I could breathe.

So, my goals for tomorrow are to hear from Netflix that I *actually* have a copy of the movie I need on its merry way here and to be able to be awake without coughing for at least 50% of the day (though not all in one chunk because, honestly?  I think the excess oxygen from something so dramatic might just make me pass out.).