First vacuums, now knives?

Rich and I have been trading off staying home with Noah the past two weeks since camp is over and school starts this week.

One day last week Rich went upstairs to do something; he said he was only up there about ten minutes or so. He came downstairs and Noah was outside playing.

And then he noticed all the butter/table knives were missing from the utensil drawer.  We have slowly been losing spoons over the last year or so, but I recently solved that mystery when I saw Noah throw out his yogurt container with the spoon still in it.

But for butter knives to suddenly go missing? Well, that smelled of Noah, and the smell wasn't good.

Turns out Noah had them outside with him. We still don't know why. He doesn't know why. A little target practice perhaps? A "let's see how far I can throw this?"

Rich and Noah went on a knife hunt in the back yard and found most of them.

He didn't tell me until a couple days after it happened. I guess he didn't want to give me one more thing to worry about.

But seriously dude. I don't think that is something you try and pretend didn't happen.Yeah, it is one more thing for me to over analyze and worry about. But since I'm already worrying about so much, what is one more ? Think of it as adding a little more variety to my worries.

 

When vacuum's come alive

Noah is afraid of the vacuum cleaner. One day a couple weeks ago he told me the vacuum scared him.

Now he's never liked the noise of the vacuum, and he makes sure it doesn't get too close to him when it is on, but he has never shown actual fear. In fact, over the past couple of months he has helped me vacuum and earned some money doing it. He was proud of himself that he could do it and do a good job.

So to hear him suddenly say he is afraid of it was surprising.

At first I thought he was using it as an excuse to not have to help me clean his room. I wasn't very sympathetic, as you can imagine.

But then he started talking about how it looked like it was smiling at him, and asked me to turn it around so the "face" part was towards the wall. He refused to walk past it if he thought he had to get too close to it.

When I left it in his room that day I was cleaning it, he freaked out.

It turns out he had a dream and it tried to eat him. Then a few days later he had a dream and it ate Kiel.

I can understand how that could turn into an irrational fear. At eight he still has magical thinking, right?

But still, he was almost humanizing it as he spoke of the vacuum. Like it was alive and was really going to come after him.

The fear seems to have eased up a bit. I saw him go up to it and pat it and say "good vacuum cleaner" the other day. Today he was fine with me using it with him right next to him.

I realize I over think everything about Noah. I remind myself of that whenever I start worrying about something he has done.

I'm having a hard time convincing myself that this is just normal eight year old behavior though. And I really don't think he is playing me; if he is, the kid is fucking brilliant.

Frankly, it scares me more than a little. Is this psychotic thinking? A tear in his link with reality? A glimpse at what is to come?

Breaking

Tonight my heart is breaking for Noah. It feels like the demons in his head are winning. I don't know what else to do to help him fight them. Nothing is helping right now.

I caught him walking out of the house with a table knife in his pocket. He doesn't know why he had it, just that he felt like he needed it. There is no sense in it. We were on our way to meet Rich and Kiel for dinner.

Asking him to remove the knife and other objects in his pocket triggered a temper tantrum. Telling him we were not going to go out to dinner because he wasn't able to listen and follow directions resulted in a full out rage.

I videoed about a minute of it, and he is like a crazed animal. It's so frightening. For him, for me.

The psychiatrist called mid rage so he got to hear the screaming and banging over the phone. More changes to his medication. He is on lithium now. I never thought we would reach that point, and definitely not so soon.

He's asleep now and should be good until morning, although he has nightmares most nights.  I hope I can sleep.

I don't believe in god or hell. But tonight I think I believe in demons, because I don't know what else could be tormenting him like this.

My poor little boy.

Who knew my child was so well connected?

The Home and School Association at Noah's elementary school is running a fund raiser called "Race for Education." The idea is that each child gets at least ten sponsors and then on a specified day the children will run/walk around a 1/4 mile track as many times as they can in an hour.

As parents we have to provide the names and addresses to the H&SA, who will then send the information out to the people we specified. We are encouraged to send to friends, neighbors, relatives, businesses, doctors, etc. They especially want to see us giving contacts out of state.

There are rewards for the kids that get a certain number of names/addresses. There are class contests as well. For your class to be eligible each child has to have provided ten contacts. If one child doesn't do it, the entire class is out of the running for the party.

Today in an email we were told that it was not acceptable for the parents to donate a lump sum themselves in place of providing contacts.

Then today we were sent a note home requesting that each family donate a book of stamps or send in $10 to assist with postage.

This is really rubbing me the wrong way. I think it is putting too much pressure on parents, and if parents don't think it is appropriate or for some other reason don't do it, the child suffers because it will be known that they didn't do it.

I want to write a letter, include a check for the $75 that they claim is the average amount each child we will earn, and call it a day. Rich doesn't want me to get into it, because he doesn't want Noah to stand out more than he already does, which I completely understand.

I posted this issue on Facebook and one of my aunts suggested I use my creative mind and send to famous people and politicians.
I thought about it for about three seconds and said "brilliant."

Here is my list, in case anyone would like to use it for something similar. You'll note it's an equal opportunity list as I have some from the left and the right. To those I respect and to those I consider idiots. It's all good money for the school if they send it though!

Senator John McCain
241 Russell Senate Office Building
Washington, DC 20510

Joe Sestak
P.O. Box 1936
 Media, Pennsylvania
19063 (610) 891-8956

President Barack Obama
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500

Pat Toomey
3440 Hamilton Blvd
Allentown, PA 18103

Speaker Nancy Pelosi
Office of the Speaker
H-232, US Capitol
Washington, DC 20515

Governor Edward G. Rendell's Office
225 Main Capitol Building
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 17120

Judge Marjorie O. Rendell
Office of the First Lady
Governor’s Residence
2035 North Front Street
Harrisburg, PA  17102

Secretary Kathleen Sebelius
The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services
200 Independence Avenue, S.W.
Washington, D.C. 20201

Secretary Arne Duncan
U.S. Department of Education
400 Maryland Avenue, SW
Washington, D.C. 20202

Glenn Beck
Glenn Beck Program
1133 Avenue of the Americas
Floor 34
New York, NY 10036

Sarah Palin
Office of Sarah Palin
PO Box 871235
Wasilla, AK 99687

So what do you guys think? In general is a fund raiser like this something you would support? Am I going overboard? Am I turning into my father?

Updated to add: Today's email included this bit:

Completed address labels are to be sent into school by Monday, Sept. 20^th.  We really need a minimum of 10 address labels per student.  The organizers of this event are requesting that address labels be returned for future mailings to sponsors  as opposed to sending in flat donation amounts.  This is the only way your child will be able to access prize categories, etc.

I am really pissed off about this! One of the first emails said the following: 

Please understand that your donors will receive a ONE TIME mailer, with a first class stamp, from Titus. This list will never be used for any other contact outside of the Race for Education.


But now they are talking about "future mailings to sponsors."

I think I will now be adding the school board members and the coordinators of this event to my address list. 

True Confessions of the Obsessive Kind

Remember when I told you that I dated "the boy next door" but it was really the man across the street?

We met because we lived across the street from each other (duh). Being neighborly eventually turned into going out for dinner. Which turned into dating. Which turned into one of us doing the "walk of shame" every morning across Park Street.

I think we confused the hell out of most of our neighbors for a few months.

Obviously (and I say obviously because I married someone else), the relationship ended. I wouldn't say it was an easy ending, even though we both knew it was time.

I don't really let go very well. It's definitely not one of my better qualities, especially in a situation like this.

For the most part it was not a nasty breakup, and over time we managed to form a rather nice friendship. In fact, he and his now wife came to my wedding.

But for a while there right after the breakup, the crazy in me reared its ugly head. And I obsessively monitored his comings and goings when I was home. From my bedroom window I could see his driveway and front walk into his house.  And I knew the sound of his car so if my bedroom window was open, I knew when he came home. (And if he's reading this, because I told him about my blog a while ago - ummm, Hi ex-boyfriend, you did know I was checking up on you right?)

I may have even spent some time with the lights off in my house watching through my bedroom window with my best friend. That is what best friends are for, right? To help you in your crazy time of need?

It was definitely obsessive, and probably bordered on the line of stalker-ish. But I promise, I never followed him! I'm far too lazy to go to that much work.

Eventually he started dating, and then I started dating, and then I met Rich and within a few months Rich and i were engaged and I moved to Philly.

And that is about as much as I can relate to Alice, the main character in our current From Left to Write book club selection Following Polly by Karen Bergreen. Well, at least as much as I'm going to admit to in writing or to anyone other than my therapist.

About the book:

Would you call Alice Teakle a stalker? Or just someone with an, um, healthy obsession with golden girl Polly Linley Dawson? No one much notices Alice: not her boss, not the neighbors, not even her Mother.

Besides, everyone follows Polly: her business selling high-end lingerie you can imagine only her elegant self wearing, her all-over-the-social-pages marriage to movie director Humphrey Dawson, her chic looks, her wardrobe. Alice just follows her a little more….closely.

And when she loses her job and starts to follow Polly Dawson one Manhattan autumn afternoon, Alice stumbles on the object of her attention sprawled dead on the floor of a boutique. Alice is forced to become truly beneath anyone’s notice. Invisible, in fact. Because she’s accused of murder.

But can another obsession help save Alice with the fallout? Charlie is Alice’s longtime unattainable crush. He might be able to help her out of the mess she’s in…in return for a favor or two, that is. And how will Alice find out if Charlie is really the man Alice thinks he is?

Following Polly was a fun read, even if you don't have a history of obsessive stalking. 

This is an inspired post written for the "From Left to Write" Book Club. A copy of Following Polly was provided to me by the publishers. I am not being compensated for this post and all opinions are my own.
 

True confessions of the crazy kind

You know what drives me crazy? When my kids wear pajama tops that don't match the bottoms. Seriously, drives me insane! 

Why is that? I mean really, who cares? It's not like they are leaving the house or anyone is coming over. 

This summer I let Noah go off to camp with his shirt on backwards and mismatched socks, because that was how he wanted it and it wasn't worth the fight.

But mismatched pajamas? Enough to make me teeter on the edge. 

Crazy enough for you yet?

It's a warning, and not a good one.

Last night I lost one of my earrings. I noticed it while I was driving home after karate class. Suddenly I realized my ear was nekkid. 

They aren't expensive earrings, but to me they are almost priceless. 

Rich bought them for me on our first date. (Our first date lasted six days. Remind me to tell you about that sometime.) We were in South Haven, on Lake Michigan. They were in a little jewelry shop on one of the piers. Just little silver dangley things with a small garnet set in each one.

I've worn them almost every day since then. Almost every day, for more than eleven years. 

I love them because they are comfortable, and small, and I can sleep in them, and talk on the phone in them. They are perfect; simple and understated, just like me, HA!

But mostly I love them because they are the first thing Rich ever gave me. The first jewelry he ever gave me (there has been more since, but other than my wedding rings and the locket he gave me on our wedding day, these earrings mean the most to me). The first "just because I really like being with you" spontaneous thing he ever did for me.

I've asked the karate studio to keep an eye out for it, but it's small. And I was all over the studio yesterday, including training in their back room. And then I stood out in the parking lot for a while talking with one of the other moms. 

I'm really sad about losing this. I was near tears last night after searching the car. It seems "significant" some how, and not in a good way.

Our ten-year wedding anniversary is next week. I can't help but feel that this is a bit "omen-ish." 

I know I could ask Rich to buy me another pair. And I know he would, an even nicer pair I'm sure. But I've already told him we can't do a fancy ten-year celebration dinner out, because funds are tight right now. I'd rather pay for therapy for Noah than dinner for us. And I'm certainly not going to spend money on jewelry when I think we are going to need to get Noah glasses next week.

So yes, it feels "omen-ish," because I know what it is. It's a warning.

A warning that I'm getting my effing period and the wicked PMS is starting to hit. Because seriously, I lost a freaking earring, not my husband.

Fracking hormones...

They say it will grow back

I did something horrible. And now I'm paying the price.

It's going to take a while to fix this one.

Remember this? The book, the ugly cry, the puffy eyes, the wine? And then the short hair?

Well, I freaking did it again. Only this time I don't have a book or puffy eyes to blame it on. This time I totally blame it on my mother. Who really had nothing at all to do with it, but I'm going to blame it on her anyway.

Because she's the one that passed down the crazy to me, and the crazy had me convinced that my hair was starting to look just like hers. And if there was anything I promised myself I was not going to do like my mother it was going to be my hair. OK, there have been a lot of things I promised myself I would not do like my mother, but that's another 10, 35, 47, 105 posts. This one is totally about my hair.

And OMFG but I cut it all off. Well, I didn't. I just sat there with the glass of wine and told my stylist that I was looking too much like my mother and she had to cut it completely different. And since it was fairly short to begin with, that didn't really leave her much to work with.

So I totally do not look like my mother now. Nope, not even close. Because she at least has hair.

Actually, that's not true either. I completely look like my mother if she was 30, 40, fine 50 pounds heavier and decided to go butch.

So I'm pretty sure I don't like it yet. Especially since I have a tendency to play with it when I'm working. And with it this short any playing I do tends to puff it up and out in a rather crazy fashion.

I definitely think it is too short for my pudgy face. The cut itself is awesome. If it was on a less fat face it would be adorable.

You may think I'm just being hyper-critical of myself, but not a single person at work even commented on my hair today. Not one! And there is no way that no one noticed. So...I'm thinking I won't be staying with this look.

Thankfully hair grows. And for now it is awfully easy to fix in the morning.

Oh well, in other news Kiel might have the coxsackieviruses (hand, foot and mouth disease). I imagine I'll know more tomorrow if he has more blisters. I think it's going to be a rough night for all of us tonight.

I'm getting over a five day migraine, which coincidentally seems to have come and gone with Aunt Flo this month. So kind of her to gift me with a migraine during her visit, don't you think?

Rich is heading off for two days to Atlantic City with his best friend for a little sun on the boardwalk and gambling. It never fails, that when he goes away to a conference or just for a day out with friends something crazy happens or one of us is sick. I think I can downplay this one enough so he's not feeling guilty about going. He deserves the time away.

And in other news, tomorrow is my 5 year blog anniversary!!!  I should be doing something awesome for my readers to help me celebrate. But I'm not. Sorry. I've been spending what free time I have researching new brain therapies for Noah and putting together a new team to work with him. I hope to have more to report on that in a couple weeks.

Maybe tomorrow I'll grab a few minutes and get some thoughts down on how it feels to have blogged for five years and how amazing it has been.

Apparently Aunt Flo is stuck in Crazy Town (Alternate title - You may need to be from Philly to completely understand this post.)

A couple times a year PMS hits harder than usual. This would be one of those times.

A week ago I went through the FB* stage, which lasted about a day. Fortunately, I could see the ridiculousness of my mood and was able to alternately laugh about it and warn people away.

Two days later I was crying over televised fireworks.

Yesterday I started crying about the Duck Boat.**

I've also gone through the short tempered phase, the I have absolutely no patience phase, the get out of my fucking way phase, and the I hate green cars and every idiot that drives them phase (which occurred concurrently with the "get out of my fucking way" phase).

This has been going on for a week now, with no end in sight.

It's not just the mood swings though. It's also been a week of insomnia. Like my body has completely forgotten how to fall asleep before 2am.

And then there is the alternating bouts of constipation and diarrhea. I'm a fucking Pepto Bismol commercial. Color me pink and flush me down peoples.

But to top it all? Are you ready for this?

I was talking with Noah today and I used the word 'youze' in a sentence. I'm not even sure how to spell it, but I damn well said it. Out loud. In the appropriate context. I was (thisclose) to washing my own mouth out with soap. Or sticking a fork in an electrical outlet to reboot my brain.

Clearly I'm days, if not hours, away from a total meltdown. Either that or I'm going to need an extra large serving of Scrapple and some Peanut Chews.

I'm not sure I've ever wished Aunt Flo would hurry up and get here as much as I do right now.

*Fucking Bitch

**I also began having mini-anxiety attacks because I couldn't stop myself from picturing the accident with the Duck Boat, but with me on it with the boys. I then had several intense conversations with myself (in my head - which only makes it marginally less crazy) about what I would have done. The truly distressing part was that I kept thinking I wouldn't be able to save both of them, which is really fucking with my head. And not at all funny.