Disney, my side of the story part 2

It's a long post. Make sure you have time to read it. Get a snack or something.

OK, so I got handily reamed by Persnickety on my last post for saying she didn't like purple. She apparently forgets using the word "fugly" in the same sentence as "purple" and "crocs", which gave me the impression that she didn't like purple. Woops. My mistake. That whole parental adage of "assume" making things out of 'u' and 'me' comes to mind. You'd think after knowing each other off and on for the last um...ACK! - EIGHTEEN or so years, we would have figured out that whole color preference thing. I can be 100% certain she likes black, as long as it's not something necrotic.
Now, back to the Disney tour. Because that's what you came her to get right? I left you at the rest stop, as I channeled old movies and regurgitated comedic routines. Relieved of my burden, I hightailed myself back to her warm mom-bus, and we continued on our way. I was told a story of Persnickety's past that essentially made her a very strong individual. I'd heard the story before, but this time there were additional snippets I wasn't privy to previously. It made me want to cry, and I kind of felt guilty for landing a guy that while has a-hole tendencies, overall is not one I can drop on the curb like Tuesday's garbage. She finished the story as we got into Orlando, and conversation moved on to Random Disney Trivia. She's a plethora of trivia, and handy to have when playing those kind of games.
We got to the parking entrance, paid a handsome fee for the mom-bus to languish all day, and circled the handiflapped parking a couple times looking for a decent place to park. I suck as a navigator, plain and simple. Sometimes I am dead-on with directions, and other times, I just need to be whapped upside the head. It took us a few minutes to get out of the van and get our snackage moved to a smaller lighter bag than the huge one Devildog handed me. Beast had my smaller one, because Devildog was not about to let that boy use his big bag. We finally made our way over to the ticket center, where I was given a nifty little button to wear. We got on the Monorail and at the gate to the Magic Kingdom, she rented what she calls a "fart cart" and we proceeded on to our adventures.

Everywhere I went, park employees were saying "Happy Birthday" to me. However, as the day wore on, everyone was worn thin, so the greetings waned. Persnickety usually went to the right, starting with TomorrowLand, and never got around to Adventureland by day's end, so we went to the left. The Tiki Room proved that my camera settings sucked as much as my navigator skills. We rode the Adventureland Rides, and moved to Frontierland. We rode Splash Mountain, got a picture of the two of us on the ride, and went on to find something for me to eat because by that hour, my blood sugar was digging a hole to China. I hadn't eaten anything decent since the french toast at Persnickety's house. Snackage only goes so far when you have a metabolism like a teenager's. It was bad. We found the famous Turkey Legs and I had to take a while to recover. We moved on to Liberty Square since we couldn't get a straight answer about Tom Sawyer's Island, and the afternoon parade was going to start soon. We parked ourselves in a sunny location, which made it inconducive to taking pictures of the parade because I chose the wrong side of the street. The Hall of Presidents was closed, probably to make the necessary adjustments for the most recent presidental addition. On to The Haunted Mansion, with the stretching room, and other spooky stuff. Then we went to Fantasyland for It's a Small world, because you MUST ride that if you visit the Magic Kingdom. We went to the Mad Tea Party, and my gut instinct said "stay away!" but I ignored it in favor of entertaining my friend.

She was thoroughly entertained at the fact that I was instantly motion-sick, complete with my face turning all shades of purple and red, and the vein in my forehead ready to burst through my face. We exited and I said "I HAVE TO SIT DOWN" I never did fully recover the rest of the day. It was bad. I wasn't much fun after that. The evil crispy chewy sugary goodness of Funnel Cakes called me loudly for some reason. There are few places to get funnel cakes, even though there are funnel cake kits in the grocery stores and stuff. Not having to work for it, makes it that much better though. We skipped Mickey's Toontown
Fair since it was getting late. On to Tomorrowland, where I was unable to fully enjoy that part of the park because those Tea Cups did me in big time. Meanwhile Persnickety was getting cold and we were then in search of something to cover her legs. Capris don't do the job when temperatures are dipping back into the 30's.

Tomorrowland Transit Authority took us through all the rides in slower motion The Carousel of (no) Progress was our next stop, where two kind schmuckatellis in our section exited the ride just AS the ride started moving. This prompted a 5 minute wait for them to completely reset the ride. I'm sure everyone enjoyed that. We did Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin, where I scored 800,000+ points shooting at the neon Z's. Yes, I took aim, and I took that ride seriously. I didn't want to ride Stitch's Great Escape, as I was warned it was annoying with stuff breathing and spitting on you. I have teenagers that can do that for free at home. Since it was nearly closing time, we rode Space Mountain. I barely tolerated that because I was still reeling from the Tea Cups. Yes, that was several hours ago, I don't recover quickly from motion sickness. Yes, I'm a wimp and barely tolerate the Disney rides, I am everyone's bag holder in other places like Busch Gardens. We missed the Monsters Inc show. Maybe we should've skipped Space Mountain. We got a park employee to take our picture in front of the castle, and wandered down Main Street USA. We caught most of the fireworks show and ran to the monorail station to get outta there before the onslaught of exiting park guests.

Persnickety nearly killed herself doing that, and I was worried that EMS was going to be needed. I envisioned packing her off to the ER in an ambulance, then driving her mom-bus back home and handing the keys to FCB saying "um, sorry. Here's the keys, she's in a hospital in Orlando, I have to get home to my kids." We survived that, then started driving home. I listened to a mommy-melting voicemail from my Clone wishing me a Happy Birthday. This is the same child that was ROYALLY ticked that I was going to Disney without her. Bad food at a Wendy's that fries everything in the same oil as the fish gets cooked really made the night. ::SHUDDER:: Then the bobbing and weaving of the interstate system through Orlando sealed the deal. I got sick on the way home. Persnickety moved off the road fast, and thankfully there was an empty bowl to catch the yuck. I felt better after that but still really BLEH. Plus it was cold. I got home, took a shower, and went to bed after posting a brief blog. I had to work the next day and just turning corners had me reeling.

See, I told you it was a long post. So there's my story of my wimpy reactions to things at Disney. There's more, but it's been a week and a half, and I recover slowly, but my brain misplaces stuff easily. It's my story and I'm sticking to it. Persnickety the Overachiever is just ITCHING to tell her side. She hasn't said this to me, I just know she is though.
I learned the following about her on this trip:
-she's a fortress
-she has a weakness for the evol funnel cake
-she has a big adventurous streak that out-adventures anything I dare do
-she is a Disney freak, complete with that trivia plethora
-she can run for her life, even if it kills her

Disney, my side of the story

Persnickety and I went to Disney for my birthday. It was not the ideal we expected, but it was fun nonetheless. We left the spawn at home, and it was a grownup Disney Day for us.

We got a late start. Typical, and we love to annoy ourselves with this trait. It's one of the many ways we just "get" each other's quirks, and cast no judgment for it. No sense in pointing a finger at someone when the finger pointer has the same issue.
We wore Crocs, of lovely purple shades. OK, so I kind of like purple, but Persnickety does not. I guess I've gotten girly in my old age. We planned to take photographic note of all the Crocs we saw on feet at the park. It got nixed in favor of me keeping my gloved hands warm in my jacket pockets, while Persnickety steered the fart cart. I'm not going anywhere fast (or slow for that matter) with this story am I?

Perhaps I should break up the trip into segments. That way you can get manageable bits of the story and Persnickety can stop harassing me to post the story so she can get to telling her side. I'm sure it's all blogged out and ready to go. Overacheiver.

OK, so I had a heavy (literally) workload the same week my birthday falls on a Wednesday in the year Disney gives birthday guests free admission. The company I work for had us removing racks in the stores, so it was NOT a simple normal service call that I can get done in a day, plus the shipments arrived on Monday, delaying my start. So I was literally huffing and puffing Tuesday to get my work done in two stores so I could rest and recover on Thursday from the Disney trip. Needless to say, by the time I got done with everything at work, got home, tended the typical daily stuff, and got myself ready for travel and bed, it was 2 in the morning. I was told to be at Persnickety's house by 6. Uh. Yeah. I was tired, hit the snooze, got there a full 45 minutes late, when we should have been leaving her house. She made breakfast for me, because well...she loves me like a sister like that and it's well known traveling is better with a good breafast to start the trip. Her coffee measurements were wonky and so was the resulting coffee. I didn't complain, I've had worse believe it or not. Then Punk was being readied for school, but there was a meltdown. We finally got out the door after the Punk was on the bus. Two hours late. When we should have been well over halfway to Disney. It's very clear that I do not move fast when it's 35 degrees outside. Since it was so late we attempted to stop at the Crocs outlet store on the way, but waiting another 40 minutes for them to open was simply NOT an option.

I did mention that it was cold. I had coffee. My bladder is not as ironclad as Punk's. I would have settled for a gas station. Persnickety prefers to stop at a state sanctioned rest area. The particular one we visited has an open top to the bathroom, for ventilation. It's useless in the summertime and heinously cold when it's wintery here. I was afraid of skin freezing to the seat. I chose the handicapped stall because it wasn't below that open roof, and hopefully half a degree less cold than the other ones. I lined the seat with TP and held onto the handrails. Then I channeled Larry the Cable Guy....."The handicapped stool is the Cadillac of the poopin' stools" ran through my mind while I tried to avoid freezing my backside to a rest stop toilet seat. My bladder was so full, I was also reminded of a certain scene involving a drunken Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own.
Road trips leave me sitting too long, and the physical inactivity sends my brain into overdrive and we end up with some A.D.D. laden plethora of comedic regurgitation and old movie references.
I'd gladly post more, but this is long enough for one sitting and I have two teenage boys that have successfully annoyed me. I love witching hour don't you? That's my side of the story, and I'm sticking to it. More later on my Disney Adventure with Persnickety as my tour guide.

That blur was me

Last week was a whirling dervish of activity. I was working hard then playing hard, then working some more. Somewhere in there I caught that lovely virus from Persnickety, and that bugger moves fast apparently. So it was a combination of the teacups and the virus that did me in on my birthday. Friday night was stuff for the Beast, and I met with a friend for coffee. Apparently she was needing a "Feisty Fix" that I don't quite understand. I really don't think I'm that interesting or addicting that a person other than my spouse or spawn actually craves time with me. Then I had stuff all day Saturday, culminating with celebrating someone else's birthday, and being a designated driver, because I just know how this particular crew rolls. Then today was "check the hellraiser tendencies" day, and I was going to a knit in public event when it started raining. I turned the mom-bus around, and was summarily scolded by my clone who wanted to go be in a park with yarny people. Ohh, the corruption I've done to this child. She learned to knit Saturday (it was one of the stuffs we did), and she was excited and wanted to go play with her new found talent around other yarn friends. I visited with the neighbor a bit while Clone played with their little man, and when the grannies (grannie and great grannie) arrived, we stayed a few minutes longer and came home. I threw a late dinner together and I'm stuffed on acorn squash. The baked ziti was of no interest to me what so ever.

So, I will apologize now for not having a Disney update for you. Really, I just have not had the energy, and with Oldest doing virtual school, he's been hogging my computer and it's driving me batty. I hope this week is lower key, but somehow, I think it will not be AS low key as I would like it. But it might not stack up to be such a blurry week either.

Birthday at Disney

Disney was done in a day for my birthday. I am totally done. I mean I'm beyond "fork tender". I'm at that point where the bird collapses off the bones.

I can't muster the energy to give a full report. I'm going to crawl into my bed and melt into the featherbed atop the mattress. I just logged on to play trivia and post my "I returned alive and intact from Disney"

It's mah Birthday!

And I'm goin' to Diiiizzzneeey
This song is repeating in my head now that the clock has struck midnight.

sing it with me now

It's mah Buurrrrrrfday
and I'm goin' tuh Diiizzzneeey


It's mah Buurrrrrrfday
and I'm goin' tuh Diiizzzneeey


It's mah Buurrrrrrfday
and I'm goin' tuh Diiizzzneeey

And Persnickety and I are going without churrins! That's right ladies and gentlemen, we're leaving the spawn behind and doing Disney like adults! *snort*

You know that means we will be bigger kids without the kids along for the ride right? Sometimes, I get together with other people, like my sister, or oh...pick a friend any friend....and we do crazy stuff in stores when we don't have the kids with us. Perhaps I'll have to get my sister to send me the pictures so I can post them.
Anyway, back to me and my birthday song....Have you ever done Disney as an adult with no kids in tow? Well, I haven't done Disney since a few months before I met Devildog, and that was a lonnnng time ago, and I was a kid myself then. And no wiseass remarks about my age either. My Clone is utterly pissed at me and just hurt, I tell you HURT, maimed, neglected, unloved, slighted in the worst way, because I am not taking her too. I may as well have slapped her face with a glove and challenged her to a duel for all she cares. She's young. She doesn't register that whole "not enough money to take everybody to The House of Mouse". I get in free because it's my birthday. I am the queen of cheap and thrifty. But I am willing to splurge. Times like this, I do just that. Because it's mah burrrrfday! I'm goin' tuh Diiizzzneeeey!

I thought Saturday was for relaxing?

I had a ministry training session this morning at church. This kind of stuff is something I need, and make every opportunity to take because I develop new skills, and grow into a new role. That role, is currently not fully defined, but it is making hints available. I also know that this training for a ministry, is also very valuable in whatever career I find myself in later. You know, that whole "When I grow up" thing that I keep avoiding apparently.
Then I allowed the kids to have a friend over today. She's an only child, and for some really insane reason, she likes the chaos of my house. I might be tempted to trade places with her every once in a while. I like quiet. I didn't used to like quiet this much, but overexposure to a certain child who shall remain nameless, makes me crave silent space. I have seriously considered participating in a silent retreat that is occasionally available nearby. This friend of the kids started out as a friend of the oldest, and everyone else kind of laid claim to her as their friend too. I tried teaching her to crochet, but to no avail. We're incompatible as student and teacher with yarn.
While I was gone to training, the phone company guy came to check the phone lines. He returned when I got home, and found my phone cord, OF ALL THINGS, was bad. Then since my modem was like 5 years old, and apparently prone to firmware failure, I got a new modem and some phone cord. If there's a bill for this, I'm sure it will become blog fodder. I have that maintenance plan, so I'm hoping the charges are slim to none. That very well could be my chances of that kind of billing too. But I have my DSL back and I am very grateful. Dial. Up. Was. Killing. My. Impatient. Nerves. Waiting. For. One. Page. To. Load. Searching for real estate was a royal pain because graphics and dial-up are like putting Tang in milk. It's gonna be bad.
I'm also thankful that the oldest cooked dinner, and saved me the hassle. I like cooking, I just appreciate when someone else cooks. It makes the food taste better. Usually.
I scheduled the Clone for a kids' Learn to Knit class at a library next Saturday. However because the class was already full, and I mentioned that I knit, I got roped into helping, which allowed Clone to be part of the class. So next Saturday is looking to be another busy day, and the Saturday after that is a training session for a different ministry.
Then there's Super Bowl Sunday.

When technology fails

I'm incredibly dependent on my technology, especially my internet connection. It allows me to avoid cleaning my house for one thing, but I do love FLYLady and her BlogTalkRadio shows. I can play on Ravelry.com and find knitting patterns that inspire me to finish that never-ending baby towel I started in June for my friend's baby who was born in late August. At the current rate I'm knitting it, I think it will be her gift for her first birthday. In any case, the DSL also is now my son's means to do his schoolwork on Florida Virtual School so he can stay on pace to graduate on time. So, I got up this morning to log on to the computer so he could do his schoolwork, and my modem was blinking, which means "no connection". I tried the usual tricks and to no avail. I called the phone company, and there's no signal coming from my modem. I have a feeling that with recent rains, and last night's freezing temperatures (yes, Florida gets cold, and last night was 17 degrees), that the phone line the dog chewed a couple years ago may have come apart just enough to stop internet, but still allow phone calls. We don't have the dog anymore, he died on Mother's Day weekend, and on my watch no less. Of course he wouldn't die on anyone else's watch, he made sure his Alpha dog (me) took care of him. In any case, before he died, there was a night he was trying to dig out, and I heard him yelp, then my internet crapped out on me. The next morning, I found a hole in the yard with the phone line chewed. Ah yes, that little zap is probably what made him yelp. Devildog is also an electrician by trade, and he patched the line, because he loves me and knows how much I must have my internet, and wants to maintain the semblance of sanity we get when Mommy can talk to her chat buddies while we clean house. (Ok, so I do some things but I cheer the other girls on while they actually work!) We scheduled a service repair and the phone guy got here at the same time Devildog had to be somewhere else and we only had one vehicle, so I had to take him there. I kind of suspect that the phone guy just relied on my husband's work, called the ticket complete and moved on to the next call. Well every time it rains, the phone crackles terribly. We hear static frequently. And lately, I've had connectivity problems and keep losing my internet connection. Today, it was gone. I called the phone company to see what their stuff indicated, and they aren't getting a response back from my modem. It might be back later when it warms up, but cold makes things contract and that could have been the last straw for the thread of wires holding things together. I had to set up the dial-up backup connection so the boy can do schoolwork, and a tech is being dispatched Saturday. So now we are going to be digging that hole back up so the phone guy can fix the connection. And I'm going to be making a mad dash to rescue my office area in case the tech has to do anything inside the house. THAT is what makes me afraid...except I'm sure the tech has seen worse. I mean for pete's sake, we haven't even taken the Christmas tree down yet! I asked for the kids to undecorate it a few times already but today I'm going to demand it, or I'll be moving the entire tree into the room of the primary tree decorator. At least I took down the outside lights the other day.

Lost and Found

I have lost the use of my computer much of the day when I'm home because my oldest is doing virtual school and has to be online to do his assignments. In the meantime, I've found that I am having computer withdrawals. I have found that I'm forced to face that I've been sorely ignoring my home care tasks. I have lost my mind a few times. There's no hope for finding that, so please save your search party for something worthwhile. Like my sunglasses. The plastic tortoise frames with dark amber/brown polarized lenses. THOSE sunglasses.
Not their predecessors that are kept in the van for such emergencies as losing the more current model, or leaving them at home. I have this habit of wearing them into the house and setting them down somewhere. The last time I recall even having them, was the day I took the old stove to its new owner's home. I had lunch with a friend, and later that day after servicing one of my stores, I came home feeling terribly billious. It's what my dad called the feeling he got after consuming some canned soup in the aftermath of a gangrenous gall bladder removal. I felt like I was going to lose my lunch in a bad way. I'd much rather contend with PMS instead of that. So I was just a blur of "pleasedontpuke, pleasedontpuke, pleasedontpuke", and I have absolutely no freaking clue where I put my sunglasses. It's been a week already and those buggers are still MIA. And before anyone comments about me needing sunglasses in the middle of wintery weather, remember I live in the SUNSHINE state. Snowbirds won't ever believe we get cold weather here. However, we do. So, even when it's 20 degress outside, the sun still flashes in my eyeballs. It's akin to a cop's mag-lite being pointed full force at the pupils. I don't know this sensation personally, except that Devildog is a big kid, and seems to think it's dandy fun to play with the flashlights and aim the beam at someone's eyes. And since the sun is exponentially brighter than a cop's flashlight, I need my sunglasses. I've tried those prayers for lost items. I think the answer came back "Reply Hazy, Try Again". I think I'm being given that non-commital answer, so that I'll clean things back up around here, and then I'll find the buggers. I just hope I find them before my birthday next week. I have plans for that sunny day, and will definitely need my sunglasses. It's not so cool to be all squinty on one's birthday. One will get up the next day and suddenly find wrinkles that were not there previously. That would definitely be a bad birthday present.

Potty Talk and Sharing

My Clone has this wicked sense of humor and is not shy about her smart aleck remarks. I will regret this later, I'm sure. My humor frequently comes back to bite me in an unsunny location.
Yesterday she was in true form. My children and husband have similar genetics when it comes to the use of the bathroom. The difference is the males camp out in there, and Clone & I generally do not. Apparently when nature calls it calls loudly.
At Christmas we went to Devildog's former stepmother's house
where my child used the facilities and upon exiting said "Aaahhhh that feels better!"
Yesterday she ran to the bathroom repeating "Poopy Time! Poopy Time! Poopy Time!"
I have no idea what it is about this child and her bathroom habits but good grief, we don't need to know some things. I guess I need to start the filter installation on things she says. Of course she's my third and by that point, most parents (myself included) are pretty much too tired and overworked to nit-pick and correct things that the oldest child would have never been allowed to do. Perhaps her unabashed announcements are part of her charm? She's certainly not like her classmates, that's for sure. All of her teachers have said as much. I'm not sure if that should be a source of pride or humiliation but it remains to be seen.

Also, yesterday evening, she was snuggling with the Daddy. We've been talking about our home buying options and debating on a 3/2 or 4/2, especially since the oldest is nearly grown. Then, my lovely Clone, blurts out "I'm the only one in the house who doesn't have to share a room"
Me: "We can fix that"
Clone: "Nope. I'm good."

I really need to re-examine what I've taught this child about sharing.

Universal Donor

That's what I am, and the vampires love me. Um, yea, I mean the blood bank. I donated for the first time last year and it was something I'd wanted to do for a long time but was way too chicken to do it. Then, the radio station across the street was doing a blood drive and I was done working for the week, plus they reportedly had pancakes. By the time they got me out of there, the pancakes were gone and I still needed additional nourishment. The lady that took my blood the first time was celebrating her birthday too. She told me to squeeze the stress ball thing and hold it. When I delivered my spawn, the nurses loved that I was not a "roller" and it was easy to get an IV in my arm. I told blood bank lady I have good veins and I might shower her if I held it. She said it would be alright and to just hold it. I warned her, but she didn't listen. She got fireworks for her birthday. I can't look when I get a needle stuck in me, I hate the pinch, why would I want to WATCH? Between that sharp pinch and being drained, I sometimes avoid the calls at the 2 month mark because I know I haven't eaten well enough to handle the depletion, and I have to allot a full day because I need to recover. I didn't have time to commit to recovery and I wasn't eating well in December, so I missed that 2 month point as usual. I was going to go in January, but hadn't scheduled the visit. Then I got to visiting Dawn's blog and she has a pal doing a virtual blood drive. Talk about some extra motivation! As it turns out, the next day the blood bank called to schedule a donation. I made the appointment for Friday and off I went. So, I had Devildog go along to take pictures, advising him only get me in the picture and no one else (that whole HIPPA & privacy thing, plus other permission/copyright stuff). So, what does he do?

He takes a picture of me with the blood pressure cuff on my arm, before any vampire work is done, and then he gets a picture of the nurse/phlebotemist with the needly contraption.









So, I took a picture of myself in the truck holding the little paper they give you to go online later and check your cholesterol etc. I probably should have waited till I got home, but by that time I was feeling the effects of having my blood removed from me, whatever amount it was, weighing 620 of some sort of measurement. If you look, you can see the goofy bandaid on my middle finger from the spot where they test your blood. That test alone makes me thankful I'm not diabetic. That junk HURTS. And the needle pinch...my inner elbow is still tender. But I would do it all over again. Perhaps taking the children with me to donate will spark an interest in them when they're eligible to donate. And maybe they'll be drained just enough to be quiet for a while and leave me in some peace and quiet. My kids are the same blood type as Devildog, which is that of universal recipient. Once again, my life demonstrates the humor of this situation. Me the universal donor, and the rest of my yayhoos being the universal recipients.

Go donate blood if you can. Since there's only so much meat on my bones, I can only give so much personally. Except my family still has me on their Universal Donor list for everything else of mine.

Therapy, in public

Today, was bad. Very very very BAAAAAAD. (Sheep anyone?) And I refuse to give the crap any credence at this moment. I will say that the day involves PMS for two, overexposure to the 15 year old, and all of this while Devildog was cheering for his favorite team in the National Championships. Which by the way, you know it's bad when the Devildog was around the boy for all of two and a half hours this afternoon, and the boy annoyed the crap out of Devildog the entire time Devildog was home. When he told me this, I thought "Welcome to my world pal". So, to recap....PMSing mom left with PMSing Clone, pesky 15 year old, and a loud 14 year old. While Dad goes to a friend's house to watch a major football game. Under normal circumstances, no big deal. But all these combined, was not pleasant. The kids and I got to eat a meal Devildog wouldn't touch for anything. Then I got really annoyed by the oldest and in my attempts to decompress, I went to Ravelry to drool over yarn and patterns. And found an announcement. Wheeee! Knitting Therapy and in public. Join us if you like. But don't mock us. We knit so we don't kill people and it's often much cheaper than therapy, plus you get something tangible out of it, and it's not generally constructed out of an empty oatmeal container. Plus for the few weeks that Florida has cold temperatures, warmth can be available from the creations.

Oh the things we do as parents!

We made headway with the oldest child and his school issue. It involved a meeting with a principal who seemed a tad too smug for my liking, and could have just talked to me YESTERDAY for 5 minutes to clarify his position on the decision instead of having me come back this morning. Then five million phone calls were made to the neighborhood school, school choice office, old school in SC, and back around again and again. Then a trip to the neighborhood school, followed by a trip downtown to the district headquarters, and we're now about half a step closer to being somewhere resembling where we are supposed to be. We ended up having to enroll him in the state's virtual school because of the difference in block scheduling between his old school and any of the schools here. In the meantime, I can't seem to get an answer from someone at the old school. Do they not have long distance calls permitted or something? For the love of pete answer the stinkin phone! We're exploring the option of getting his final exams etc, administered at the neighborhood high school so he can get credit from the old for the first semester's stuff.
Are you confused yet? Because it took a couple rounds of explanation for it to wrap around my last remaining synapse. The other one was a bit busy misfiring out of frustration. But we're somewhere forward of where we were before now. Then when the boy and I got home this afternoon, I refused to do, say, think, or talk about the remaining steps in this home/virtual school process. It only took a month for it to get resolved. I guess I need to get better at poking the bee's nest, and with enough skill to avoid getting stung.

Anyone got a spare computer of any kind that I can have, borrow, use, buy? In a dream world, Mom would get a zippy laptop with a wireless connection and she can plunk her happy hiney in the quiet of her room and be online while the boy is doing school work. But of course, I'm fully awake, so we know what that means.
All I know is he better make really good money so he can pay for my luxury retirement villa.
That, and it's a REALLY good thing I don't have one of those full time job things, because with all the legwork, phone calls, and other crap I'm doing for the overall good of the members of my household. I'd likely be very unemployed right now. I told Devildog this when he got home, as I finished making dinner. Poor man has almost forgotten what a meal is like because things have just been crazy here. He was sweet to me, which makes Persnickety gag and barf every time, so I'll spare her the details. I think he was just delirious because I was actually going to put FOOD in his belly. His excitement caused him to leak some sugar. It's a good thing he was sitting down when I told him we were the proud parents of a virtual school student in case other stuff leaked. I was just in mission-mode today, determined to get SOMEWHERE with this, that I didn't even get around to calling him even once. Surprise! You're a homeschool parent!

FINALLY a FRIDGE!

And so far, it works! It took a few days for the landlord's brother to get back into town with the ONLY key to the storage unit. Thankfully we were friends and kind to each other before this whole landlord/tenant stuff complicated things. I didn't take them up on their offer to stash some of my food in their spare fridge in the garage. I was honestly just too lazy to cart it over there. I could have gotten a smaller fridge MUCH sooner from the other rental that is currently vacant, but let's be real here. I have two teenage Shop-Vac's, my clone and I eat our weight in food three times a day at a minimum, and Devildog eats his weight in food once a day. We need mass quantities of refrigerated cubic feet, plain and simple. So out with the top freezer model, in with a side-by-side version.
Getting the fridges swapped was a near-Hurculean feat. First the door handles had to be removed from the old fridge, and it had to be angled through the kitchen doorway so the water line valve for the icemaker didn't kill the wall or trim. Then to get the replacement in the house was 40 minutes of work taking things apart and putting things back together. The water line had to be cut because there was no connection that just came apart. The doors had to come off as well. Then to get it into the kitchen, the front wheels had to be removed, then reattached right after they passed through the doorway so it would roll, be level and not tear up the already mangled vinyl flooring that was in there. That old fridge ripped the floor in several places being moved during rearrangement and remodeling, and this move was no exception. Then the doors had to be reattached, and the electrical connection reconnected (the ONE simple hook/unhook connection on the thing). The water may never be reconnected to it, as there's not really any means to hook it up here unless we tinker with stuff or actually you know...FINISH remodeling the kitchen.
ANNNNNND because it was in storage, it was very very dusty. My house smells pickled from the vineger used to clean the fridge.
I plugged it in after it sat upright a while following several sideways turns and stuff. I'm waiting on it to cool off enough so I can put food in it. Yet, for some reason the concept of THERMAL containment falls short on my family's scale of reasoning. They kept opening the blasted doors to see how cold it was getting. I should have taped the doors shut so the fridge could at least cool in peace. Geesh, can't a fridge get any privacy around here?

Childhood interaction

I have been known to say stuff like "I don't have any cheese to go with your whine" and other sage parental commentary that demonstrates my being a slacker mom. I prefer to make use of common sense and the kind of wisdom handed down to me by my parents. However, I have developed a bent full of snark. Subsequently, it has been imparted on my children. This was heard mere seconds before I started this blog entry.
Clone: (incoherent whining) I didn't hear exactly what she said because I was reading a real estate listing with much interest.
Beast: "I don't speak whinese"
Oldest(directed at Beast): "I don't speak dorkese either"

That was then followed with an unpleasant interaction with the oldest wanting certain food that was intended for family DINNERS and not his singular lunch today. That whole concept of "greater good" is lost on him apparently. There are methods to my madness (dimmitalltohale I want my OWN HOUSE!), but till he gets his head unfogged and out of the unsunny location, he will not fully understand them. Till then, I guess I am just selfish, paranoid, and rediculous.

No resolutions, diet or special goals here

I was just over at the Suburban Correspondent's place and she posted this nice blog advising that based on a couple studies, dieting during cold and flu season is a bad idea.
Devildog is all about getting in shape, just inconsistent with his efforts, and occasionally misguided. For instance, his food consumption could be better. As in, rather than eat one meal a day of huge proportions, he should eat more often. Hey, it's how I keep my girlish figure. That alone will aid his effort to lose weight. But who am I to speak to a Marine about health and dietary concerns anyway right? However, we're not speaking of my lack of strength today. Maybe we can talk of that another time, like when we're packing up and moving to whatever house we buy that hopefully will have enough bedrooms to keep the teenagers from killing each other every other minute of the day they're in the same dwelling. I will just play the old injuries card as long as I can, but don't tell the Devildog even though I suspect he's onto my game here.
Part of good health is adequate sleep, according to a million other studies that I won't link to or reference. It's hard to sleep well when you have apnea and keep your spouse awake half the time, or interrupt HER sleep repeatedly throughout the night. I especially love the comments from him about my needing a nap, or falling asleep at the desk late at night. He's prone to falling asleep in front of SportsCenter, and last night was no exception. The difference this time was that instead of being slouched down in the chair or with his feet on the coffee table....he was sideways in the chair like our youngest child, my clone, crashes in the chair. The only reason I dare share this picture was because he had a blanket over him, and he was sideways. I will spare you the typical visual I would get if I'd remembered to turn the heat back on after we'd had windows open yesterday. Ahh, the perks of living in Florida....no snow to shovel. This wench doesn't do cold, so I'll thank you not to comment about how much snow and ice you have, nor what germs are residing in your person because you decided to start a diet before cold and flu season ended.

It's a new year. Now what?

We went to a friend's house for New Year's Eve. Actually we went to two friends' houses. On the way out of the neighborhood we stopped at C & S's house, because Devildog didn't want to drive by there and not stop to see his friend who's been having difficulty. His friend's parents were there and we visited a little while. I tinkered with their laptop a bit because C clicked on something one day and changed the course of history for their computer. Then C's parents left and suddenly I felt pangs of guilt for wanting to leave to go to my friend's Open House party. We considered staying so that we weren't abandoning friends, then I invited them to come along to the other party. We went and had a good time, and C & S were very glad we took them with us. C asked to come back next year.

The hosts are crazy individuals who absolutely love to have fun. They have a gorgeous and huge house, that I only dream of owning, and only after winning a huge pot in the lottery. They work hard for what they have, so I am not jealous by any means. However, I spied this lamp on the table in front of their living room window. Not everyone can tastefully pull off displaying a leg lamp, especially if they have no sense of humor. Our hosts have absolutely no problem with a lack of humor.
While there I asked the host what that "Posts" note on the kitchen cabinet meant. She asked if I'd seen Mary Poppins, and how the various members of the house ran to guard the breakables at certain times, screaming "POSTS!" because the neighboring retired Naval Admiral fired a cannon to signal the time. She said that when they get into the driveway in the late afternoon, Mom yells "POSTS!" from the car and everyone runs to their designated post to turn on the Christmas lights. I thought it was SO hilariously clever, I told her I was taking a picture of it and posting it in my blog. She granted permission, adding "just don't display my children's names". Done.

We stayed late, and so I didn't get up till lunchtime. As I type this, I sit here at the tail end of lunchtime, with a cup of coffee that didn't get brewed till noon when I got up, wearing my pink flannel pajamas that my MIL gave me last Christmas, hair askew because I showered right before getting into the bed, and my New Year's ham is still in the freezer. We're likely to have a "Non-Traditional" meal today. But that's alright with me. I'm not a slave to tradition really. I don't do resolutions either. It just leads to trouble. For now though, I will at least take down the old calendars, turn the page on my FLYLady calendar and figure out something we can eat for dinner. I would really prefer to avoid leaving my house today.

Edit: When I went to look in the main freezer for something to make for dinner, I discovered that my fridge is not cooling. So, we're swapping fridges with the one from the friend's vacant rental a few blocks over from us. In the meantime till that can happen, we're stashing stuff in coolers and either tossing or eating the rest of it. Thankfully I have another small freezer that is still working.