10 years = a bad ass kitchen appliance.

I'm glad I'm married to someone who doesn't think it's weird I ordered my OWN anniversary present, sent him the email receipt with a note of thanks, and doesn't bat an eye that it's a kitchen appliance. Not only doesn't he think it's weird, I think he's really grateful (hence, sort of a present for the both of us... See how that works?). And I scored a bargain (although to him, I'm sure, it was outrageous). Anyway, say hello to...

We'll call it "The-only-thing-standing-between-me-and-the-Barefoot-Contessa." If she ends up working out for me, we'll call her 'Tessa for short. If not, that bitch is going right back to Amazon.

I'm trying to stop speaking in analogies/metaphors/I need to brush up on my English. Man it's really getting out of control. I can't have the most basic exchange without one popping up. Example: (See - I'm sort of doing it again)...

Someone: Hi.
Me: Oh, hi.
Someone: Did you see that bird?
Me: I did see that bird. The way it swooped by me I thought I was about to be flattened by a big truck.
Someone: ((blank stare))
Me: What? Didn't you think it was loud? Why are you looking at me with your eyes so vacant like an apartment left empty in the middle of the night?

But I'm not as bad as my friend G. I'm considering an intervention. She has this awful habit of saying, "You know what I mean?" and I mean she USES IT A LOT. (Yes, of course I'm going to give an example!!! Heck, I'll even use the scenario from above!)

G: Hi.
Me: Oh, hi.
G: That was a bird. Do you know what I mean?
Me: I know! I saw it. It came out of nowhere like the time that fraudulent credit card bill arrived in my mailbox.
G: That was totally weird when that happened to you. You know what I mean?
Me: Er... yes.

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I'm currently auditioning to be the replacement friend of one of my neighbors down the street. Her best friend & neighbor is moving back to Idaho and she's considering me for the role of new friend. I've had two call-backs and it's really getting close, I think. Our first date resulted in us being in the same bar of a couple who walked the 10ft. to the outdoor patio to have monkey sex in front of all of us. The second was more subdued but we stayed out later and I think I really made her laugh. I hope she doesn't think I ramble too much and cite too many examples.

Out of the loop and then in...

We were so relieved that 3rd grade was going to pass us by without us knowing what - if anything - was going on. No notes home daily, no signs of anything to be worried about until... we went to Open House last night and were asked to schedule a Parent/Teacher conference because F has to be "redirected" a lot. (We were - of course - the only parents this was asked of...) It's grown really tiresome. But, it is what it is... We get to sit through another meeting with another teacher where we're told he's "bouncy, energetic, talkative, inattentive, doesn't understand consequences, can't sit still, bothers his classmates, talks out, acts without thinking, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. But he's really smart." I don't know how many more creative ways I can come up with to say, "Yeah. WE KNOW." Sigh... And frankly, I don't know how many more creative ways I can come up with to say to F, "GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER."

So last night was spent dragging out the arsenal of checklist, rules, lectures, pleas for him to confide in us (Is there anything we can do to help you? Is there something you need? Tell us how we can help you!), and guilt (How do you think this makes US feel?). ADHD just isn't for sissies. I'd have never believed until I had a child with it how insipid and tireless it really is. I'd have been the parent going, "Why can't they control their child?!" What about if the child is really well-meaning but persistently disabled?! And what about the weird guilt from making him accountable when you're not sure he should be... why isn't he trying? Is he trying? Why are things getting worse as he gets older not better?

There really aren't words. It makes me want to hang my head and cry.

All the things left to do...

I was carrying in the giant dictionary book/contraption I was conned into buying in a mall parking lot yesterday. It's a picture dictionary (for kids, obviously) and out of nowhere it hit me, We still have to go through the whole learn-letters-learn-to-read-this-is-an-apple thing with baby i. When you have children so far apart in age (8 years!) you apparently not only forget what you've been through but what you yet to go through. I'm not saying I'm not up for it (and what choice do I have, really?) it's just that it's daunting.

A friend of mine brilliantly described one of her issues as hair Dismorphia. I'm afraid I have the opposite problem. I think my hair looks okay and then I see a picture and I think, Oh Christ... this is what I look like? So I proceed to get it cut into layers (I think this was a mistake of proportions to teach other mistakes a lesson), continue to go to someone who obviously drinks before she gets to work for color, and in general look like I have a mushroom on my head. It's twisted when you hope for a disorder that ultimately means things are better than you think!

On that subject... so I never told BP about my blog because a) he'd make fun of me b) I didn't want him to make fun of me and c) he'd relentlessly bring in bits of it into every conversation ("That's not what you said on your blog!" or "Oh, are you gonna go write about this in your blog?" or "Go ask your friends in your comments section of your blog to feel sorry for you..." etc). I'm not saying he's mean. He just goes out of his way to get his OWN laughs. So, he finds out I have a blog (Thanks, Kevin... :)) and I told him why I never told him about it ("I didn't want you to make fun of me.") and he agrees! I said, "I'll give you the URL but you won't even really read it anyway!" He agrees again. Conversation closed. So - ... the hell? He knows his wife has what amounts to a public diary and he passes on the chance to read it? I know he hates to read and all... but really?

Next week I have to go in for the new two days a month in the office I agreed upon. You'd think I'd be dreading it. Nope. I can't wait to have nowhere to go but a desk for eight hours. Nothing to do but sit. I'll work some, too, but mostly I'll be sitting facing forward quietly minding my own business and loving every single second of it.

Practicing Embedding Slideshows.