All posts for the month June, 2015

The Whole Period Thing

Published June 23, 2015 by sarcasmica

The title says it all, if you have decided to read on, venture at your own peril. … and if you are that brave, please leave a comment! 🙂

Once a month, my bathroom door is locked. Once a month.

okay, that might be a lie.

At least once a month, it is guaranteed that my bathroom door will be locked. I have yet to fully allow my kids to intrude on every part of my life. That’s fair, right? It’s not necessarily because of the whole birds and bees talk, but more like I don’t have the energy or vocabulary to tactfully explain in two sentences why mommy’s pulling a mouse tail out of her vajay jay.

I can’t be bothered.

Why? Because cramps, that’s why.
And insomnia
and sleep deprivation
and summer
and just because I don’t want to.

It’s bad enough I have to use proper lingo for all the parts – a practice which I am not 100% on board with, btw.

One particularly evil month, I finally had to warn my son that if there is anything unseemly to be found in the bathroom, it’s because mommy is bleeding.

“Huh? Bleeding how? What do you mean?”

“Bleeding from my vagina.”

And right there, I saw his brain crack a little. To his credit, his brain did not fully break. He just looked justifiably a little terrified of me. .. and then I realized my error. I should have told him of this *power* long ago. Perhaps if he had seen what the tampon is for, he would have started obeying me years ago.

I feel like I crossed a line there… so sorry.

Anyway, so sometimes I feel like I must be the only mother who keeps this whole thing to herself. At what point to you enlighten your daughter? At what point is it open conversation/door policy?


That’s terrifying. I do few things solo these days, and frankly, my husband is not even privy to the privvy when i’m in it, so where do we draw the line?

It’s not like they don’t know I put on an evil witch mask and turn into a irritable, crabby, short-fused witch once a month…

Not yet. My tolerance has not been reinforced to have the whole uterus lining/tampon/vagina conversation. If that loses my mother of the year award, good. It’s probably too much pressure to maintain that anyway.

Bleed on!


Park Fun

Published June 11, 2015 by sarcasmica

My kid’s school had an end-of-year picnic at a local park. Seemed like a good idea. I had actually forgotten about it, but my daughter reminded me when she informed my chiropractor about it yesterday.


This morning we got all packed up, even took the newly nearly mastered 2 wheel bike. There’s a great track around the playground to practice on.

We made our way down and found the parking lot PACKED. 100% full. So much so that these honest toddler/soccer/quilting bee/marathon moms were considering parking in the handicapped spots. I saw it in their eyes. I just so happened to find a young couple fleeing (no doubt in the wake of what was obviously a convention of all the local preschools) and stalked them to their parking spot.


I hauled her bike down to the path and she rode a bit before getting down to the play ground. It was a little sketchy, but she managed well. We find some of our group, and off she went. She was so proud, telling everyone “I’m only 4!!” and then cackling with sheer superiority. She began following a girl a little older, and much more in control on her own 2 wheeler. They made a few laps around and then it happens. I look over and see my kid wobbling on the asphalt part of the path. She loses control, and instead of putting on the brakes, she whips her handle bars from one side to the other, tricking herself into thinking it’s under control. After about three zig zags, she crashes to the ground. I head over anticipating a small scene. She stands up and reveals a quarter sized scrape on her knee.

She screams bloody murder

I washed it off with my cold water bottle, resulting in the blood trickling down her leg and onto her fluorescent pink socks. I’m convinced she’s crying because it hurts….. nope. She’s crying because her knee is bleeding. While i’m sure it hurt, the mere fact her leg had the audacity to BLEED was the cause of the shrieking.

How do you manage four year old logic?! In public … with a park FULL of preschool parents and teachers on high alert.

I could feel the park go quiet as my daughter is screaming nothing intelligible while this giant mammoth woman who is managing to stay calm on the outside is trying awkwardly to comfort this child. After a minute, and i regain my hearing, I finally manage to take her to the bathroom to wash it off and dry it so we could get rid of the excess offensive blood.

Only it’s a public bathroom, so guess what? No paper towels. Just deafening hand dryers.

I doused it one more time with the cold water, and blotted it gently with a wad of toilet paper. What I can only hope was clean, ungermy TP.

“Wipe it all off! Get it all off!”

I blotted it to the max before any TP could stick into the very shallow and small scrapes. She left the bathroom holding up her shorts … you know, so they wouldn’t spontaneously drop to her knee and hurt it…shrieking “Ow owowowowowow”

Ok.. let’s just get your bike and go – “NOOOOOOOOO!”

So we can’t leave, and staying is becoming increasingly uncomfortable for everyone. I see people looking at me out of the corner of their eye and one brave soul finally sidled up to us, looking at my daughter the whole time intensely, willing her to make eye contact, and asking, “Everything ok over heeeeeerrre?????”

“Yes, she just fell off her bike. She’ll be ok.”

She continues to stand there. .. staring…

Listen, lady, i’m not abducting the loudest kid in the park. I promise. I’m thinking heavily about swapping her for a calmer kid, but unfortunately the bloody wounded one is in fact mine, and I have to figure out how to get her out of here without causing further damage. Bugger off. I will point out that zero people from our school came to check on her or see if she was ok. That is slightly frustrating.
We go sit out of ear shot on a bench as I try to calm the beast. The knee is still, of course, red and angry, so she refuses to calm down. The mere sight of it is pissing her off and freaking her out, but logically, she keeps looking at it. As if at any moment the wound will just vanish.

I finally convince her to go with the promise of medicine at home…. this kid has an alarming affection for medicine. We made about 5% of the drive with only whimpers, and by the time she had to get out of the van, she was at full blown hysteria again. I think she just likes to make an entrance.

My mom, surely, thought I was bringing her home with a broken arm, but no. Just a small scrape. With BLOOOOOD

Sometimes I wonder if i’m cut out for this Mom stuff. Not because loving them is hard, or cleaning up after them is impossible, or managing their ever-changing moods is inconceivable. Mostly because when one of my kids get hurt, they do not allow for soothing. They leave zero room for comforting, and I in turn overcompensate and try so hard to stay calm for them, I flop sweat and can’t see the immediate remedy.

These are the hard moments for me. Not yelling, “It’s just a scrape!! Suck. It. UP!”

Perhaps next time i’ll try my dad’s go-to; “Shut up or i’ll give you something to cry about.”

Ahhhh the good old days.

Thanks, Teach

Published June 11, 2015 by sarcasmica

This summer I’m going to be positive. I’m going into it with high hopes for lots of family bonding time with a backdrop of rainbows and dew covered roses. You know whyyyyyy? Because summer means no homework. No paperwork forgotten in backpacks and then forgotten to turn in. No permission slips or book reports. But most of all, no IEP meetings reminding me my kid needs special attention. No head-tilt nodding when i’m explaining that I actually believe my kid is doing much better. No concerned frantic pencil scribbles in the midst of a meeting because some new issue has popped up.

No reminders my kid is negatively different than his class.

Instead, we are going to revel in the fact that any and all activities here at home- and anywhere we decide to venture out to- will be perfectly fit and tailored to each of my children. My kid is set up for success here at home and with me. … well … until he pisses me off, that is. Then it’s just barking orders. But for the most part, there is nothing here he can’t do.

I’m happy to have my kids around, and at least for the first two weeks, I will build them up and vocalize all the great things I notice about them. So thanks, Teach, for giving me the opportunity to take center stage and let my kid shine. And no, we will not miss you. Unlike the last three teachers my kid has had and been sad to say goodbye to, and written cute little cards for, and picked out thoughtful gifts for, you did not quite make the cut this year. Your effort was lacking for my son. I’m tilting my head to the side and gravely nodding my head at the thought perhaps, if you work hard, you can find the ability to measure up next year for the next class you get. From where i’m sitting, you might need to be put on an ITP – and individualized teaching plan. You need some goals yourself. You need to learn to look, peek, squint even, outside the box. The box that is your classroom where a majority of kids are privileged. Kids who have not had any life challenges. Kids who have not had to learn and form skills and personal growth from life experiences. My kid is a rock star who, despite moving four states in five years, has managed in each one to make friends. To care about each one. To still go out and put himself out there to be accepted. My kid has met countless faces of grown ups who work with him and each time put him out of his comfort zone with care and love. They all managed to get results from a boy who does nothing but challenge those around him. That’s his role here, it seems. He will push and pull and twist every button you’ve got, but with the charm and smile and heart that you will find yourself laughing along side. You might, Teach, learn something about yourself once you set some expectations that go beyond working with kids who have zero challenges or issues.

And maybe, just maybe, next year if you get a kid who has for whatever reason not met all standard goals walking into your room, you might be able to remember that you once had a kid in the same situation. You let other people deal with him. You let other people build him up. I hope you take the next opportunity presented in the form of a kid not  perfectly formed and already succeeding to dig in and do the work with so you can find out some wonderful abilities I know you must have.

Excuse me now while I go stock my liquor cabinet in preparation for summer break.


Dyslexic Weight Watcher

Published June 10, 2015 by sarcasmica

Ok. I haven’t been keeping up with the weight loss stuff like I should. I HAVE been going to meetings, however.

I feel like i’m crashing a course I continuously forget my homework for. I have been going to meetings because that seems to be the only consistent commitment I can make. I haven’t been tracking. As a result, I am a dyslexic weight watcher. I’m gaining. The weeks I happen to lose, it’s because of my cycle or dumb luck. It’s definitely not because i’m working my ass off and eating kale.

(kale = term for anything at all healthy and grown from the ground)

I think I managed to consume three peaches over the last week… along with Pizza, Red Robin, Starbucks S’Mores Frappuccino, my son’s birthday cupcakes, and about four pina coladas.

But other than that, i’m doing grrrrrreat foodwise!

Seriously, I’m kind of just a mess right now. The good news is that i’ve started paying attention to some of my own shit. I’ve been going to the chiropractor consistently for two months now. I started out 3x/week, and now it’s 2x. It has been a life-changer. Honestly. I’ve had about 16 years dealing with a bad bad lower back. Sciatica, muscle spasms, just complete deterioration of my own capabilities.

Not being able to pick up a laundry basket, or bend down to put on underwear is a real hassle at 38 with 2 kids and your day is supposed to include taking care of a house.

So i’ve managed to get something major fixed there. Go me.

Next up, fixing my brain space. I have gone back to a great counselor I saw a couple years ago. I’ve started again because I have found that I have zero goals for myself. More than that, I don’t care much to set any. I am on a day-to-day sanity preservation course and beyond that, I just could care less. … this seems unhealthy as most people rely on goals to get forward momentum. So I’m working on just finding out what makes me happy right now. I’m hoping it is something that doesn’t involve making lunches, trekking to and from from kid therapy, or folding my husband’s socks.

Go figure. I want my life to be more than my family’s clean clothes.

I used to work. I used to have ambition … a little. Truthfully, i’m just a people pleaser who likes to see where life takes me. I don’t expect that to change. I like being low key, mellow, roll with the punches person. But lately i’m finding my feathers are ruffled far too often, and by smaller and smaller things. I do not wish to be that person.

I’m also finishing up a round of meetings at a parent support group for parents with special needs kids. This label, “Special Needs” is something I’ve always had trouble fitting into. My kid does not have autism. He’s not on a spectrum. We don’t have medical professionals on speed dial. He does not have a day nurse. This term “special needs” is kind of stifling for those of us stuck in the grey areas of challenging kids. I would never want to compare my frustrations and hardships with someone who has to take care of a severely limited autistic kid. I don’t feel like I’m in the same realm as what those patient, strong, exhausted parents must have to go through.

But it isn’t easy, either. The frustration of getting a school to put together an effective IEP for your kid. The annoyance at having to babysit the “team”. The sheer emotional magnitude of having to even realize this stuff. Worrying constantly that his behavior will not only embarrass and ostracize him from peers, but myself as well.

The list goes on and on.

This group has been really a breath of fresh air. Most of the parents have kids with sensory issues. Only a few have kids on the spectrum. We get to hear that other people have to deal with the pressures of this kind of parenting while still managing not to divorce your spouse! The pressure of raising a kid with extra requirements in an environment that is not necessarily always willing to understand or even believe it’s a necessity. The basic need to find a group of people who understand your own chaos and insanity is a relief. They know this planet of constantly balancing needs and requirements with wants and wishes.

Singularly we are always dealing with our out-of-the-box kids who stand out in a classroom or play group because they are different. Always hearing how something extra or special needs to be figured out because no one else in the room is similar makes you start to believe you’re on an island. It’s easy to forget there are others on islands. It’s a relief to send up that smoke signal to see that your neighbor is either a-just as crazy as you are, or b-completely ‘gets’ that you need to know you aren’t alone.

So yea, my tracking and exercise have fallen by the wayside a little, but sometimes the bigger picture takes over. I’m ok with this for now. I’m ok being weak and needing some help. I’m ok with finding other success for now outside my tracking sheet and weight chart.

Campout Birthday

Published June 7, 2015 by sarcasmica

This birthday I talked my kid into a mini ‘family only’ party. We quickly realized that looks like any old Monday at our house since we are our only family that’s local, so I extended it to the neighbor and my two closest friends & their kids.

Last year we camped in the back yard. My back is just now getting back to normal, so I thought, “Hey! Tent in the yard, BBQ some dogs, s’more some faces and BAM! Birthday party!”

Everyone was on board – Miracle.

I got ‘pinning’ (it’s like ‘Winning’ with less cocaine) and found some cool ideas:

My pool noodle race track
Mine was more of a trailer park marble race since I failed to find any noodles with a decent opening. That combined with my sorely lacking knife skills and we ended up with a sort of off road/junk yard toothpick contraption that will likely be more of a weapon than proper activity.  

Next up: Crafty crap. 

One of the hits was a pretzel stick/mini marshmallow combo brought to us by the $1 store.

Give each kid a plate, a handful each: mini marshmallows and pretzels and BAM! Imagination-user doubles as a snack. The original idea was for them to make tents or teepees or cabins. They made weapons, teeth, fangs, and a mess. The important thing was they had fun doing it and it was a 20-30 minute activity that did not involve body checking or adult supervision 😄

(These are the assembled sticks for the cupcakes, but same idea. Just attach, stick, combine, etc to make a structure)

Speaking of cupcakes:

  1. Pretzel sticks
  2. Mini marshmallows
  3. Fruit roll ups
  4. Crushed oreos =



Not fancy, but they were fun and tasty!

I made a drink that was a hit with the kids. Fruit/sugar/lemonade/soda. Kind of a no-brainer. Its a Strawberry Lemonade recipe I adapted to what I had: a frozen berry medley, Sprite Zero and frozen lemonade
Next we started the fire in the fire pit, and we got to work on the s’mores. I pre-bagged the fixins so no one was bound to an assembly line during the party. I stuck the baggies in a container near the fire so people could help themselves. 1 full graham cracker, (to later break in half) half a reg size Hershey Bar, one giant marshmallow. Done.

I also had cheapie blow up swords from a party store that I blew up and the kids ran around whacking each other all.night.long. Saved on the piñata, and no one had to deal with candy wrappers! 

The other hit was glowing bracelets and any other glowing jewelry you can find. My only problem with it was waiting until it was dark enough to hand them out. Here in Washington it doesn’t get dark until after 9pm in early June! Crazy!


We all had a great time, and it was an awesome low-stress party. The tent camping our family did immediately after this party is a whole other story!


“Spy” Review

Published June 7, 2015 by sarcasmica

This movie was great. I loved everything about it. Jude Law I can do without, but the whole premise of it was awesome.

Let me preface this by saying I had the highest of hopes for Bridesmaids and while I thought it was a cool movie, I did NOT understand the overabundant raving about this film. All female cast? I’m in. Comedy on all levels, done. Kristin Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, and Maya Rudolph (to name only a few)? Go go GO! But the story was sort of meandering sometimes and inconsistent. Overall, totally recommend renting, but the hooplah was over my head.

I completely appreciate Melissa McCarthy’s role in this film, Spy. She is the epitome of overlooked and understimated. The best part is that she is never called out for her size or age or height, and while it’s virtually impossible not to assume it’s a size thing, that stops mattering. As a big chick myself, I can appreciate and belly laugh at some of the subtle comedy in pointing out how us “regulars” are treated on a daily basis when compared to a fluffed and folded streamlined model of a female human. And let’s be 100% clear, she would be criticized for something. She’s female. Any leading woman, especially in comedy I feel, is always judged or assessed first after a full inventory of the outside, and only then do we go deeper. And it’s almost as if the more genius in the genre, the more critically and deeper we go for flaws.

Back to the movie. Just go see it. The story was fun and consistent. The cast was committed and brilliant. Jason Statham, fantastic. Melissa McCarthy, so brave and magnificent. Who else will you love from the homophobic aunt wig to the kick ass sex pot wig?!


Published June 1, 2015 by sarcasmica

Today I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with all the adult things. I assume everyone has this issue from time to time. I mean, are there actual humans who laser-focus their way through life on top of *it* 24/7?! If so, can we have them checked for cyborg brains? Cylons anyone?

I woke up today totally understanding the date. Today would have been my friend’s 41st birthday, but she passed away unexpectedly 2 years ago. We were still in touch, but not as close as we were in jr. high/high school/post high school. I didnt expdct it to be hard. I just anticipated some feelings and moved forward. 

Drop the kids off, even remembered the little one’s snack day responsibility! Head to chiropractor 8 miles away… hear that damn “See You Again” song and start tearing up. 

Try driving in the rain through tears wearing glasses. Not an easy feat!

I pull it together after a good cry, stop for gas, re-check appointment and realize i have the wrong time. Im 2hrs early. 

Husband calls while finishing up at gas station, we make a joke about my poor calendar skills, and i cry again when I say it out loud, “Today is Crystal’s birthday.”

Make husband uncomfortable, hang up, start to drive away from gas station and see man in mirror waving me down. I forgot to replace the cap & shut the flap.

 Go shop for son’s bday supplies…spend way too much as a result of too many feelings. What is the corelation between sadness/stress/excitement and shopping?! 

Nevermind, i dont want to makes me feel better, so i’ll stick with it. The other stress/feeling buddy for me is food. Liquid or other. I ate my way through those 2 early hours thanks to Panera orange scone and chai latte.

Go home and have lunch with my adorable and quite lovable charming daughter. Exhausted from crying and thinking and chiropractor..take a nap. A proper bed and covers nap. 

Daughter wakes me up with her hugs and kisses and feel better.

Pick up kid 1, tell myself “Do NOT get into it about the emotional birthday with the neighbor. Do NOT open that door when she asks how it’s going.”

Hold off the mouth diarrhea for approximately 2 minutes, and then open the birthday door. Make everyone uncomfortable, and awkwardly change the subject to nothing at all relevant.

Take kid to therapy. Decide to go to parent support group and look more into meds for kid 1. I got into a whole discussion with him about what a support group is (since he asked) and we talk the whole drive about his Dyspraxia. 

“Is it bad to have it, mom?”

All the feels start creeping back.

“Absolutely not. It just means we have to be on top of things because you have different needs.”

Arrive at therapy and find out support group person (who is an adult with Dyspraxia and now a therapist) no longer works out of this office, but still runs the group.


All the bills that I was supposed to map out and pay were ignored. Laundry was mildly approached. Nary a dish was washed. 

It was just a shitty day where all the productivity was mental….making me go slightly mental.

Hoping June 2 is much more physically productive and mostly feel-free.

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