This afternoon, I have a date with a feisty and funny friend named Dana. (No, not the funny and feisty blogger friend named Dana. Although the two do have lots in common which is probably why I love ‘em both!) It has been decided that we will do a little something called “margarita hair.”

Margarita hair:  Your beloved friend who used to “do hair” (or “hahhhrrr” as some say around these parts) for a living will highligh/color your “hahhhrrr” at her house while you both drink margaritas and your kids run amok and eat junk.

I’m looking foward to the experience, as is “the boy”. (He loves her kids. And her trampoline.)

Being that I’ve been a blondy-girl all my life, the decided color is far different– a warm brunette. Been wanting to do it for awhile now. (Yes!    All     of      you      super     hot      brunettes      have      truly      inspired     me. )

So by 6:30 tonight, I’ll either be laughing, crying, or both. Will I bemoan the color I chose? Is combining alcohol with hair color a bad idea? 

Stay tuned…

Have a little review of The Zula Patrol’s “Explore Space!” dvd on behalf of the Parent Bloggers Network at Midwestern Mommy today. Go ‘head. Have a looky-loo. There’s a virtual margarita in it for you!

My heart is so heavy these days. 

I have a difficult enough time sleeping. But when I travel its far worse. I’m really weird about noise, pillows, texture of blankets, mattresses and a few other things. Usually I don’t manage more than an hour or two a night when on the road. After awhile the stress of being in a new place and no sleep wear on me. My routine is disrupted, I don’t get any time to myself, and I get really edgy and bitchy. I usually end up with at least one migraine during a trip and several after the trip. (Ask poor Kristie. She was my BlogHer roommate.)

Before the trip I was completely stressed. Things only got worse while on the trip. I took on some projects I thought I could finish while on the trip. I vastly overestimated the time I MIGHT have to get these projects done. I barely slept and had a super nasty migraine over the course of the trip. Honestly, I was ready to go home 12 hours after I got there. And no offense to Texas. Ya’ll have great weather but I seem to get this way anywhere I go these days.

During our last day in Texas, my cell phone died in the middle of a conversation with Marc. Our flight got cancelled. I got angry. Because he was trying to make back up arrangements, he was late in picking us up (he dropped us off at a movie while he went to a meeting). And I when my son asked why daddy wasn’t there yet (we’d be waiting almost three hours.) I had no idea and I assumed the worst. I said something very mean and unfair about Marc which Seth repeated within minutes of seeing Marc.

To make matters worse, I felt betrayed by my son for saying this to Marc. I know! He’s five. How stupid. I had no right to badmouth my husband in front of my son, let alone feel hurt by what Seth repeated to his father. The next day I made my son feel guilty for relaying my comment to Marc.

Oh and did I mention that at one point while in the car with Seth and Marc (we ended up driving home. Yes! At least 11 hours in a car — all of those miles covered in about 20 hours.) Seth was talking and I yelled at him to “Shut up.”

God, I can be so ugly and mean. And I’m so horrified and ashamed. I hadn’t packed enough meds for an extra day so that meant no sleep and a raging migraine. I hurt so bad I seriously thought I should go to the hospital. Most of my energy was directed at not throwing up. Turns out I have a nasty sinus infection now which was probably a reason as to why I was feeling so crappy before as well as during the trip.

My husband is really angry and disgusted with me. I patched things up with Seth but my marriage seems as if it might not recover from this. There have been other fights through the years and I think we are both so tired of fighting. I don’t know how to fix this. I fear its a permanent rift between us. And that really scares and saddens me.

My migraines, sinus issues, and insomnia don’t help. Because there are times, after a good week or so of not sleeping and feeling almost constant pain, I start to feel like a raw, exposed nerve. I seriously start to wonder if I’m on the cusps if I’m losing my mind. I start feeling shakey and sick and weak. My husband doesn’t understand what it is like to live with constant pain. (But I can see how it would suck to live with me.) I start to get depressed. I’ve tried all sorts of medications to help. So far what I’m on now has been the best way to stave off migraines but even the meds are no match for all of the triggers that can set off a migraine. (It is better now. But I still get weeks where I’ll have 4-6 migraines in one week.)

But insomnia, sinus issues, and migraines aside, I feel so ashamed of my behavior to the two men I love dearly. When I apologized to Seth again today he said, “Don’t worry mom. You were just having a few bad days.” I feel like I don’t deserve his love. Even now, the whole thing just reduces me to tears. And I’m working on taking some steps that will hopefully prove to be constructive. I feel like I’ve sunk to an all time low. I didn’t control my frustration and got irrationally angry. And I took it out on two people I love the most.

So I’m sorry about not visiting. I’m sorry this is so heavy and depressing. I’m sorry I can be so toxic. Trolls, or anyone for that matter, if you want to tell me what a horrible bitch I am, you are more than welcomed to. Because I deserve it. I did act like a totally selfish, horrible, ugly, hateful person. And I’m so horrified. But I just wanted to let you guys know why I haven’t been around. I felt like I owed ya’ll an explanation.

Oh and I wrote a review for Building Bobland Bay for Parent Bloggers Network. If you are interested click HERE.

A few months ago, when Seth started singing, “Bow Chicka, Bow Woooowwww.” I laughed out loud.

He has no idea what that means. But he learned it on the bus. (And now every time he does that I think of Jess and her park ranger fetish.)

The other day, he came home with a new one…  At dinner he referred to some other kid on the bus (a 5th grader) as being a “bad-ass mofo.” Stunned, I asked him to repeat what he’d just said. Stoically, he obliged.

He’s five.

I tried not to laugh. It was difficult. He knows what curse words are. He hears me swear like a trucker (when I’m in traffic) quite frequently. But he knows that as a kid, he’s not allowed to say those kind of words. (Ah yes, the “do as I say and not as I do” parenting method.) He also didn’t understand what he was saying were curse words, (as ”badass” and ”mo-fo” aren’t a part of my repertoire) nor does he know what “mo-fo” means.

But I can’t help but wonder… How can the boy learn so much from one 10-minute bus ride, yet struggle so much in a three-hour kindergarten session? Maybe I should hire a 5th grade boy to teach him how to read? You know, one of those “bad ass mofo” ones.

 So… Let’s talk about sex. Or more aptly a book called Sex Detox. A review of the book, on behalf of PBN can be found here.

“He has a difficult time concentrating.”

“He’s having a hard time completing his schoolwork during class time.”

“He has a hard time remembering and following directions.

I’ve been hearing these sentences alot in the past few months. At first, I assumed it was the newness of kindergarten as well as a change in his routine. When it persisted, I chalked it up to him being the youngest in his class. I thought I’d give him some time to settle down as well as settle in.  We started working on extra projects to reinforce what he was learning in class. We’d work each day in a quiet place, free of distractions. And yet, amongst optimal conditions at home, Seth has had trouble finishing worksheets that should only take 10 minutes to complete.

We also started taking morning walks or playing games like “red light, green light” in hopes he’d burn off some of that extra energy before his afternoon school sessions.

I started buying organic, thinking his lack of focus and constant movement might be due to the plethora of preservatives found in food today.

There have been days he’s done well at school — completing tasks and keeping focused. These good days gave me hope and caused me to wonder if my worrying was for naught.  But at this point, I can no longer deny — even with a “good” day thrown in here and there? I’m still  hearing the same types of sentiments from his teachers. He’s progressing but not nearly as quickly as his classmates, and that’s with extra help provided by the school. I still see alot of the signs at home. Seth is very social. He’s very sweet. He learns quickly — when he really listens. But… he’s struggling. 

It is time to admit that something is “off.” He definitely needs to get tested for learning disabilities. Kids diagnosed with Sensory Integration Dysfunction typically have other issues that surface over time. So I’m not surprised we’re traveling this path of speculation, research, and testing again.

Is it ADHD? Is it an auditory processing issue? Is it something else? Is it a combination of issues? I don’t know. I have some ideas. But I’m not certain.

This period of limbo conjures up many memories. I remember years ago, feeling intimidated by the various channels we’d have to go through in order to get Seth testing and treatment. I remember setting up occupational and speech therapy sessions and asking therapists countless questions on how I could reinforce their efforts. The task seemed daunting. My biggest fear was I’d fail him. But day after day, month after month, this little boy progressed. Within a year’s time he had vastly improved, catching up developmentally to his peers. (In many aspects, he was even well ahead of his peers.) He was a much happier child. I was a much happier (and thankful) mom.

I now know that the unknowns are much scarier than getting a diagnosis. This quest will require more work on Seth’s and my part. There will be more power struggles and expressed frustration. There will be more meetings with the people who can help him as well as more trial and error. But there will be good days too. We may get through it clumsily, but we WILL get through it.

We’ll just have to tackle it the same way we did before — one day at a time.

Today I’m thinking of Wisconsin babes Cheryl, Ree, Dana, and Virtual Sprite. Go Packers!

 (Click on the pic to enlarge)

While I celebrated Seth’s first day back at school by putting away Christmas decorations and reading blogs the boy’s brain was hard at work. Apparently his brain got NO “exercise” while on Christmas vacation and that first day back was a rough one. The little man fell asleep in a shopping cart at the grocery store. (He used my purse as a pillow.)

 I would have gladly forgone the trip but we were out of a whole slew of stuff. So I just got the essentials and tried to stack them around him. Hey, at least I tried to keep any corners away from his face.

(Note: This is what your grocery cart looks like when you have a husband who travels alot and only one child. Frozen din-dins for everyone! Oh and eggs and brownie mix too.)

This morning as Seth was filling Abbeydog’s food dish, I happened upon quite a little scene.

Seth was bent over. I could tell he was “going commando” by the way his jeans hung. Those jeans revealed at least two inches of  what we like to call “little bunny buttcrack.” Nestled in between those little cheeks was a giant Pixie Stick we’d gotten a few days ago when we gave some spare change to a man soliciting donations for his church.

That big ole’ Pixie Stick, still packed with sugary goodness, has seen alot of action these past few days. It has mostly been a used as a Star Wars light saber and wand, ala Harry Potter. That is, until this morning.

“Bun,” I said. (And yes, he still lets me call him “Bun” or “Bunny”.)  “Why do you have a Pixie Stick down the back of your pants?”

“Because,” he said emphatically. “That’s my TAIL.”

Oh…

Later on he told me he was a Jedi Knight — with a tail.

Needless to stay that’s one Pixie Stick that’s definitely not going to be ingested.

(And yes, I really did keep track this week.)

“I don’t care what kind of a bad guy you are. My underwear does NOT belong on your head.”

“Abbeydog is not interested in wearing your underwear. Stop trying to put it on her head too.”

“Stop chasing the dog with your light saber.”

“Stop trying to touch the dog’s butt with the light saber.”

(While watching Star Wars) “That’s not Darth Vader — that’s his twin brother Garth Vader. Garth is the nice guy. He rides a unicorn and is friends with all of the flower people on the planet “Sissy Pants” (It really makes him angry when I say this, but I do it anyway… Just to mess with him.)

“Yes, really. Would I lie to you?” (The unspoken answer to that would be, “Yes. I would lie to you. I’m your mom. I can do that.”)

“Of course Wookies exist.”

“I see you left your homework folder AND your listening ears at school.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t in good conscious call you “Speed” when it takes you five whole minutes to put on your seat belt.”

“Its not Ollie Whine Cannoli - Its Obe Wan Cannelloni” (Yeah, I know its wrong.)

“If you use a scissor to put one more hole in any of your shirts, I’m going to start sending you to school naked.”

“No, its not funny when you pee in the trashcan, on the wall or on the trim behind the toilet.”

So what are some of the things YOU have found yourself saying this past week?

P.S. My lovely sis-in-law, Nic sent me a link to this blog. Highly amusing. Check it out.

We returned home last night tired but happy. Our trip to Louisiana to visit the hubby’s maternal and paternal sides of the family was a whirlwind of food, laughter, hugs, and car rides. T’was fun to see people we haven’t seen in years. Plus? Seth and I met some of Marc’s cousins for the first time. (Hi Cindy! Hi Ashley!)

I was going to gush about how great both sides of Marc’s family are. And seriously? They are! But I scraped it because the aforementioned Cindy and Ashley (as well as Marc’s aunt Marsha) gave me something this weekend that’s been sorely needed. And they don’t even realize it.

Cindy is the proud mother of a darling little girl. (She rejoined the ranks of full time working women this past Monday!) Ashley is the proud mom of an adorable little man named James. Ron (Marc’s uncle) and Marsha, (Marc’s aunt), are the proud parents of Carly, who’s finishing up college and looking at law schools. No other children are mentioned because like me, they each have just one child. It was fulfilling to talk to three women who are are varying stages of mothering their only children. More often than not, if I’m with a group of women, I’m the only mom with one child.

Shortly after Seth’s birth, I started getting the “So when are you going to have another child” inquiry. For the first 30 months of his life, when asked, I told people I didn’t know if I’d have another child. I felt so overwhelmed with all of his needs. I often got a quick, “You shouldn’t think that way! You’re going to regret having only one child when he’s grown. Besides, he NEEDS a sibling!”

This made me feel like shit. So when Seth got older and grew more independent, we began trying to conceive another child.  This hasn’t worked, obviously.

We’re no longer actively trying or planning to add to our family. (Some of the reasons “why” are unbloggable, sorry.)  It isn’t as if we’ve decided that we will absolutely never, ever add to our family. It may happen naturally or through adoption. But it may not. For now? Our little family of three feels complete. Seth may not have siblings, but he has cousins and lots of friends. There is no shortage of love, attention, or fun in his life.

But unfortunately others don’t “feel” the same way. And sometimes they can be rather vocal about it. (Typically these people have been ones who hardly know me or even strangers.) So at times there are comments about how Seth needs a sibling so he doesn’t turn into a spoiled brat. There have even been a few times a talker has hinted at my “selfishness” to stop at one child because, “when you are old, the burden of taking care of you will be on HIM.” Of course there have also been comments that insinuate my stopping at one means I value our disposable income and free time far too much.

Fortunately I don’t get those comments often. But I admit, they do send me into a panic to where I seriously question this decision for weeks. Because like all moms, I want to give my child my everything. I want to do right by him.

So this weekend, while hanging out with Cindy, Marsha, and Ashley, I saw how happy and satisfied they are with being moms to their only children. I witnessed the close bonds each mom shares with her child. I saw how these “only” children are like Seth in that they aren’t “lonely” children at all.

Cindy, Marsha, and Ashley? You helped me to toss aside some of the guilt and worry that’s eaten away at me over the years. If years from now, we become a family of four (or more), we’ll rejoice. But if that doesn’t happen, I know I will still be happy. And Seth will be too. 

Attention parents of budding scientists! There’s a super cool toy out just in time for Christmas. Click here to read a review on behalf of Parent Bloggers Network.

About a year ago, during Seth’s playdate with an adorable little girl, the two decided to play a new game. The young lass, who loved all things Disney Princess, wanted to be “Ariel”, from The Little Mermaid. Seth was to be her honey, “Eric”.

At some point, there was a communication glitch. For some reason, Seth began calling his friend ”Areola.”

At one point, she realized he wasn’t calling her the correct name. But apparently, she liked the new name better. I guess it seemed more exotic or something. Because whenever she came over, she continued to be “Areola, the little mermaid”.

And I continued to fluctuate between, “Should I tell her that’s a name for a boobie body part or should I just let it go because that makes me laugh out loud every time.” To be honest, I let it go for awhile. Basically because I needed a good laugh. But at one point, I told her that “Ariel” was a much prettier name for a princess and that ”Areola” was really the name of Ariel’s stinky pet hamster. And no one really knows about the hamster because it farted so much, they couldn’t include the hamster in the movie. 

God only knows what she told her parents that night at the dinner table. But after that, “Ariel” returned. We never heard about “Areola” again.

Because we are easily amused and have no lives, (Ok. Ok. Because I’m easily amused and have no life) we (as in “me”) coordinate the dog’s Halloween costume with the boy’s each year.

May I present the Jedi (He’s Obi Wan) and Princess Leia. Why yes, she IS wearing the famous double buns sported by Leia back in the day. They are very difficult to see.

Happy Halloween and hope you get lots of candy and have a ton of fun.

P.S. If you’ve got kids that need school uniforms, check out the Head of the Class. Being that the owners have three boys, they understand the need for quality clothing (that holds up to wear and tear) at affordable prices. They’ve poured lots of love and energy into this business. No doubt in my mind that they will take fabulous care of you. (And no, I’m not being paid for the ad nor am I being paid to say this. I’m doing it because they are friends of ours — they are amazing people offering a great product.) Plus? A portion of your purchase goes toward your school! How cool is that?

Watch out my love,” Seth whispers softly as he maneuvers past, carrying a large cardboard box.

 Touched by his kind words I reply, “Oh, that’s a very sweet way to…”

 ”I wasn’t talking to YOU,” he interrupts, visibly irritated. “I was talking to ABBEY.”

 I make a beeline to the computer to document this moment. (Because my first thought of course is, “I am SO blogging about this.”) As I do so, this five-year-old brings his sleeping bag into my office. Not wanting to miss out on any action, Abbeydog follows. Seth drops the sleeping bag down then smooths it out. The dog plops down next to him.

“Sit here my love,” he says.

I stifle a giggle. 

Clearly he’s forgotten exactly WHO is in charge of the candy buying and cookie-making at our house.

Hopefully Abbeydog lapped up this kindness because when tomorrow morning beckons, she’ll find the boy playing with his light saber and bored. And she will get poked and antagonized — just like any other day.

Fyi — Am waiting on some info in regards to the ”Who does what at your house” post. Hope to have it up by the end of next week.

His kindergarten classroom is a buzzing, whirlwind of activity. You’ll often see some kids working in pairs on a project while others work on the floor by themselves. Yesterday when I walked into Seth’s class to volunteer, I saw him sitting at his seat, subdued and woefully eating his snack. Something wasn’t right with this usually energetic and enthusiastic boy. 

I asked  him what was wrong. “Nothing,” he mumbled while looking away.

His teacher promptly pulled me aside to tell me he had alot of trouble following directions in that first hour of class. At one point, when all of the kids got up to work on their projects (after gathering together to read a story) Seth remained on the floor by himself.  He seemed so out of it, she noted.

I helped him and the other kids with an art project. While I cleaned up the tables, he was working on a numbers project. Or he was supposed to. He tried to mistakenly work on another child’s project and the teacher gave him a stern word telling him he had to work on his own number puzzle instead. 

I watched him as he sat on the floor, hidden away in a corner, clutching pieces of puzzle, with an look of overwhelming defeat in his watery eyes.  I told his teacher that he clearly was having an off day and asked if I could go over to where he was and give him a hug. She said, “ok.” 

I knelt down by him and held his face against my chest while rubbing his back. Upon my touch, the fat tears welling up in his eyes began sliding down his face. We silently sat there watching our tears paint his shirt. When I had enough composure to speak I told him, “Seth, you’re just having a really bad day today. There are some days when it seems like everything is so hard. Everybody has those. I’ve had a few of those lately too. So has daddy. So does everyone. But just remember we love you no matter what kind of a day you have.” He looked deeply into eyes. He screwed up his courage. 

I said, “You and I will do something special tonight, Ok? Tomorrow will be a much better day. You’ll see.”

At that point his teacher told everyone to line up for PE, so we both wiped our eyes and he left the room.  

I went to the corner market and bought him a little “cheer up” present — a whoopee cushion. Because if something that makes fart noises can’t cheer up a 5-year-old boy? NOTHING can.

P.S. After the first few “fart” noises and a trip to his favoritest restaurant in the whole wide world, all of the difficulty of the day was forgotten. Seth (as well as his teacher) reported that today was a much happier day.

P.S. Dear Wordpress. If I wanted all of my copy jumbled up and made to look like I have no idea how to make paragraphs, I would have stuck with sucky ass Blogger, thank you very much. And the fact that I can fix it 500 times, save and have it look the same exact way it did prior is a HUGE reason as to why left Blogger. Must I move my stuff to another service? Is this a sign of things to come. Cause this little glitch is pissing me off!