Category Archives: mood

Where I’ve Been and What Makes Me Happy

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Hello, friends. I’ve been feeling a little down lately, which is one of the reasons I haven’t been writing very much here. I have lots of stuff swirling through my head that I can’t get out on paper (or blog) and it just keeps swirling. Things have been feeling kind of overwhelming. Also I’ve been trying to figure out my endgame, meaning if I want to write a book, I have to just write the damn book.

Mostly though, I just want to take naps. No one needs anything from me in my naps.

I also like running. Running has been making me happy. The problem is that it is really, really cold these days and it makes me not want to go outside. Also I have a really painful blister right now.

I know. My life. TRAGIC.

The things that make me not depressed though, are my kids. Today (yesterday by now?) was President’s Day, so my kids didn’t have school. Naturally this meant that I scheduled them all for dentist appointments.

I am the meanest mom in the world.

Fortunately, dentists nowadays are kind of awesome for my kiddos. Three kids, two dentists in two different states, dozens of teeth, and not a single cavity! Hooray!

Jack’s appointment was first. His dentist office always amuses me. Sam and Quinn are always excited to go because they have air hockey and movies in the waiting room. Jack is also happy to go because they let him choose from their giant selection of movies while he has his teeth worked on. He chooses Bolt every single time. It is hysterical. He has seen the first half hour of that movie a million times now.

So much better than back when the dentist was such a horror show for the poor kid.

So much better than back when the dentist was such a horror show for the poor kid.

We actually have that movie on DVD. Maybe I’ll show him the end of it some day. (He has actually seen the end before.)

After Jack’s appointment, we headed home for a while before we went to dentist #2, who told us that Sam needs to go to an orthodontist. NOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Maybe the best part of my day though, was listening to Quinn talk to the dentist and the hygienist. That kid is funnier than anyone I know and so casually in love with himself. (Sometimes he’ll just wander around saying, “I’m great! I’m awesome! I’m great!” No self-esteem issues there.)

The hygienist asked how old he was and Quinn started reciting facts: “I am in second grade. I am seven years old. I am awesome.”

That kid. I have to get some of what he has. But until he tells me his secret, I’ll just hang out near him and his brothers and hope that some of their awesomeness rubs off on me.

I actually feel kind of better just putting that little bit out on the page. Huh. Maybe writing really IS therapeutic.

Gala Blocked*

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I was supposed to go to the Autistic Self Advocacy Network gala tonight. I tend to be a chronic panic canceler, so even though I had a lot of my usual anxiety about attending, I was determined to go.

SPOILER ALERT: I didn’t make it and I’m pretty upset about it.

I knew I was going to be late because I had an appointment that ended at 6 and the gala started at 6. I figured that I would be in DC, parked, and up at the gala by 7 though. I was okay with that. Fashionably late and all that, right?

SPOILER ALERT: Uggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!

I was not in the best mood to start off with because the appointment was with our family therapist and we were talking about some stuff that is not that big of a deal but that was emotional. Then I ran into a tremendous amount of traffic and I got angrier and more frustrated every time the same guy running on the sidewalk passed my car.

Regardless, I was still moving forward and by about 6:50 or so, I started to get confident that I would be at the gala by 7:15 or so. There was a fire engine approaching behind me, so I pulled over to let it pass because I am a good citizen.

It then stopped DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME, disgorged its firefighters, and stopped in the middle of the street. As the minutes passed, I started to consider parking and walking.

SPOILER ALERT: I was still too far away so I tweeted this picture instead to complain about what was keeping me from the gala. Note the parked cars on the right and the iron railing on the left.

SPOILER ALERT TO THE SPOILER ALERT: I wasn’t tweeting while driving. My car was actually in park at the time.

Whyyyyyyyyy??????

No escape.

You may notice that the GPS in the bottom right claims that I would arrive at 7:08. LIES. It had already told me that I was going to be there at 6:34. The closest I got to the gala location happened at 7:38.

Once the fire engine finally pulled away I tried to keep going to the gala. Normally I would have thrown in the towel, but I knew that I was headed to a kind room, so I keep trying. But then there was more traffic and then I missed a turn, which left me in more traffic, and I was getting closer and closer to a total meltdown, so finally, after the gala was already more than half over and I hadn’t even reached the location, let alone found a place to park, I took a sharp right, set my GPS for home, and bailed.

Basically what I did was take a two and a half hour, incredibly frustrating trip downtown and back without getting out of my car.

I kind of feel that I should have kept going and gone in. I know the good people in the room would have made me feel better, but I just couldn’t.

It was a really draining experience with the lesson that I should not be a good citizen ever again.

All of that is to say that I am really upset that I wasn’t able to go, and not in the mood to write a post (SPOILER ALERT: You actually did write a post, dumbass.) and I’m just going to give you links to other stuff I wrote.

If you’re in the mood for one of my PokitDok articles on autism, go check out After Your Child’s Autism Diagnosis.

If you’re in the mood for a White Knuckle Parenting column, read about my Clothes Conundrum and how my children are ridiculously hard to dress.

If you’re in the same mood as I am, go to bed and come back to check those links in the morning.

 * I’m not sure I used that correctly.

Dysthymia

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Hey, I learned a new word last week! It is “dysthymia,” which is chronic low-level depression. And guess what, kids?  I haz it! Who knew? I’ve been calling it ennui.

This, in and of itself, is not surprising. I am well aware of my status as a depressed person. Being handed it as a diagnosis wasn’t particular awesome though. That particular diagnosis was part of a larger package, which I’ll go into another time.

For now, I’m swinging up from bottoming out. While where I am is not the most awesome place, it is better than where I was yesterday. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

In other news, I’m looking for a therapist. If anyone knows of the best ever therapist in the Silver Spring/Wheaton area and tells me his or her name, I’ll give you a free hug.

*****

Until then, here is what I’ve learned from hosting a bajillion kids’ birthday parties in my time: Birthday Party Hosting 101 at White Knuckle Parenting.

*****

Also, my Not Even Wrong post was chosen as a Voice of the Year selection for BlogHer ’12. I’m not one of those who are reading at the conference, but I am so honored to be among the phenomenal writers who are featured. Check out the list on the BlogHer website.

Things That Make We Want to Smash Other Things

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Alternate title: FUCKING ENOUGH ALREADY

• I have had a kid home sick from school pretty much every third day for two weeks, up to and including yesterday.

• I finally got everyone to school at 9am this morning and came home only to have the school nurse call at 9:30 to tell me that I had to come in and bring lotion for Quinn because he was “itchy.”

• Yesterday evening I got an email from Jack’s teacher with the subject line, “escape plan.” It was exactly the email you imagine such a thing would be. It included the line, “After recess the recess monitor told me that Jack and [Jack's BFF] came to her to tell her that their plan to escape didn’t work…” Well, thank goodness they were honest about it.

• Today’s post was going to be about stuff that was awesome, funny or, at the very least, autism related, but I am so annoyed at the world that I have to put it off until tomorrow.

• I miss Susan a whole lot.

• When I got to the school nurse’s office to oil Quinn up, I noticed the bumpy red rash all over his torso. Yay! Doctor appointment!

• I had to go pick up Jack’s melatonin, which I very intentionally buy from an independent pharmacy to support the little guy. But today “the little guy’s” stupid parking lot was so full that I had to park on the street around the corner. Then the guy at the cash register gave me the hard sell on four other supplements when all I wanted was to buy the melatonin, goddammit.

• I noticed that there was an awful lot of chit chat and not much scratching from Rash Boy in the back seat.

• We have kind of a heavy pressure IEP meeting for Jack tomorrow morning. ‘Nuff said.

• Except not really. Reading through progress reports and other such documentation is enough to push you into a full-fledged depression or rage, especially when one of your kid’s (very well meaning) specials teachers writes about Jack, “The only person he is inclined to play with is [his autistic BFF] and they try not to socialize with others.” Because that’s what kids with autism do—try not to socialize. It’s so much more complicated than that. I feel like many of these teachers want to help; there has to be a way to help them understand what autism is.

• When the nurse swabbed the back of his throat for a strep test, Quinn instinctively fought back and kicked the nurse in the stomach. Then he threw up on the floor.

• Quinn has strep.

• Quinn has to come to the IEP meeting tomorrow.

• After dragging three kids to Jack’s speech therapy, then rushing to the school for the PTA meeting which I am required to attend because I take the minutes, I headed over to the pharmacy to pick up Quinn’s special antibiotic capsules. I arrived home at 9pm to find two of my three kids sobbing because Alex showed them the volleyball-floating-away scene from Castaway.

Stimey smash.

Team Stimey and the Cat

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Dear 2012: Go fuck yourself. Seriously. You have not been good for anyone.

For all of you out there having a bad time, you have all of my love. Don’t ask me how each of you can have all of my love. It’s possible and you have it, so shaddup.

Related: I hate everything.

 

Like that photo. It looks like a closeup of Jack, but if you click to embiggen the photo, you will be able to see the tear stain on his cheek that I noticed after he came home. Welcome to Jack and school these days. Did I mention that I hate everything?

I have to stop.

So. The feral cat we accidentally trapped in our car.

Lately I’ve caught myself talking to people and then drifting off only to come back to the knowledge that I have been gazing past whoever has been speaking to me. The “evening routine” version of this is getting out of my minivan at night and leaving the sliding side door open in the rain. I did that last night.

When Alex got home from work, he noticed that the door was open, so he used his set of keys to close the door.

Then he noticed the animal inside.

Thinking Team Stimey might need a laugh, he came into the house to, you know, get the whole family to go outside and see if it was a feral cat or an opossum that was now feasting on the goldfish crackers in the cracks of our car seats. (It turned out to be a gigantic, kinda terrified looking gray tabby cat.)

The children thought the cat in the car was the most hilarious thing that had ever happened in their lives.

Somehow we ended up surrounding the car and the cat FREAKED OUT. It started ping ponging around the car—trunk area, back seat, dashboard, back to the trunk. We finally had to open three doors and give it a wide berth before it was brave enough to run for the bushes.

On the upside, now our car smells like panicked feral cat pee.

Did I already tell 2012 to fuck off? Because I seriously mean it.

I Wish I Had Something to Say

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I was hopeful that I would write a really fun post today, something to get us over the controversy of the playground, but I got nothin’. My kids are in school instead of being at home doing amusing things for your benefit.

Also, Jack falls apart at school every January, which means that school is kind of a shitshow right now. Which is kind of a bummer.

I also have this cyclical, chronic, low-level depression thing going on, but that isn’t a lot of fun to talk about either.

Here is what I DO have:

• You guys, there is this awesome show that I’m sure none of you have ever heard of before, but holy shit, I’ve been watching Breaking Bad on Netflix streaming (*I* still love you, Netflix!) and I am in love. It’s fortunate that I’m not sixteen years behind the trends or anything.

• As if living with other human beings isn’t noisy enough, my dog, who spent the day right next to me, had a near-constant stomach gurgle for several hours today.

• We hired a cleaning service because I am terrible at, you know, house upkeep. However, the stress of avoiding them on the day they come is reaching epic proportions. This is mostly because I feel bratty for being home during the day, but not cleaning. The other six days of the week, however, are spent in sparkly clean joy.

• I had to go see Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked. THAT was the longest six years I ever spent in a movie theater. I wrote about that movie in terms of the sacrifices of parenthood over at Patch.com.

• I’m hoping that that link right up there (^) can count as your post for today if this one doesn’t.

Algernon Goes to IKEA

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Hi friends! I’m a little out of sorts today. I came home from dropping my kids off at school today and then sat forlornly at my desk for the next four hours without even bothering to take off my coat. I’m going to call it Winter Blues instead of Crushing Depression, because that sounds better.

At some point, I was all, “I should leave the house. That would help.”

But then, the only place I could think of going was to the vet to murder my mouse and then I didn’t feel better at all. So I just remained there…at my desk…in my coat…avoiding murdering my mouse.

We have an appointment tomorrow. I think I’ll feed Whiskers a lot of peanuts tonight.

I have a long list of actual work I should do, but instead of that, I’m going to change the subject and tell you about a trip Algernon took to IKEA a while back. We were looking for a rug for Sam’s room. Our mission was a little bit desperate, because Sam had objected to us removing the dog pee-stained carpet in his room and we told him we would put it back over the refinished hardwood floors if we didn’t find a better option. Needless to say, we were incredibly motivated.

Unfortunately, IKEA is inscrutable.

Algernon was all, “What the fuck? Where are the rugs?”

I am happy to report that after a lot of poking around, we were able to locate a shaggy red rug that Sam deemed appropriate. We were willing to spend one millllllion dollars to get rid of the gross carpet, but this one cost only $79. AND we had three individuals to help carry it.

Although two of them were less than helpful.
Also, what are those dirty towels hanging from the ceiling?

Naturally, we stopped at the IKEA cafeteria for a snack. As you do.

Algernon wanted Dryck Flader.

I would like to take a moment to discuss Dryck Flader. What? Why? And how many boxes of that do you think they’ve sold in the past few years?

I’m guessing zero.

The cafeteria is right next to the kids section where you can find all kinds of tiny, plastic furniture and inexpensive stuffed animals.

Wait…just…a…damn…minute…here…

“There are…so, so, so many of them.”

Point the first: I’m sure it doesn’t surprise you that we already own many of these rats and their smaller mice friends.

Point the second: You know you’ve done some dumb things when creating mice scenes in IKEA and photographing them doesn’t embarrass you in the slightest.

Point the third: Algernon had to take a moment to tell an IKEA mouse that while life on the outside is infinitely dirtier, it is also far more awesome.

“And then, she carries me around in her purse and
sometimes takes me out in strange places!”

I’m thinking of making Algernon do all my holiday shopping this year. That would save me a lot of time. It would also free up a lot of time for me to sit at my desk by myself. I also imagine that he would have excellent taste in gifts. I don’t know why, but I think he would buy lot of tiaras.