Yesterday I did all manner of chores and laborious tasks. As Dear Sir, I mean, the Professor sat at the computer or read his B&C magazine, I scowled at him.
"I need to go to bed," he said, as he was lying down on the bed, magazine in hand. I was folding clothes still and it was 10 o'clock.
"Really?!" I said sharply, "please don't talk." I put down a folded washcloth. I was hoping to play maybe ONE chord on my guitar before hitting the pillow.
"What?!" he said behind his retro-cool glasses.
I mumbled to myself.
"I got a running commentary on my songs today," I said, putting two socks together.
"Well, apparently I shriek when I sing, but that is probably good because apparently Sarah McLachlan does the same thing in her estimation."
"What?! How do you shriek?" He nearly jumped out of the bed.
"Gee, I don't know. I sing high sometimes."
"And that one song she doesn't like because she thought it was annoying how I repeated stuff over and over. It is a liturgical song, so that's the point. You do that, you know? But I expected her to not like it---I mean, the music itself, because.... she has questionable taste in music."
"What does she like?"
"Rod Stewart, Celtic Woman, Celine Dion, Michael Bolton..." I bent down to grab more lovely socks.
"So you rest your case then," he said, opening back up his Books and Culture then wiping his eyes behind his retro-cool glasses.
My Oldest weighs about as much as me. It is tripping me out.
He eats more than me.
This Friday they are all going to dress up like clone troopers. Yes, even the Girl. But you knew this was not something abnormal for her.
The Oldest looks RIDICULOUS in his clone trooper garb. He is HUGE and he wears a little mask.
Thankfully this time if Eraser Eater has to go to the bathroom in the woods, I don't have to get his peter out for him. Gee whiz, that masking tape mummy costume last year was a bit high maintenance.
And to top things off this past week, Eraser Eater's October issue of Architectural Record was late. Instead of whining about it for the entire month he eventually forgot about it, so he was especially delighted when I hollered that it came in the mail on Friday. He ran down the gravel drive way with a look of pure haste and pleasure all mixed up as he stretched out his hands in anticipant greed. He looked at the cover and said in a loud voice, "A residential issue! My dream!!!"
I must say that I am addicted to the Professor since he got back. He did eventually call me on Sunday and I thought for a second about not answering the phone, but I decided to be nice and pick up. Whatever it was that he did wrong, he didn't mean to do it.
Since he got back I:
1. Don't have to worry about the plants dying.
2. Don't have to monitor the temperature or worry about how to use the thermostat.
3. Don't have to drive to church.
4. Don't have to freeze in bed at night.
5. Don't have to worry about who is going to hand me a flashlight when I go back into the crawl space.
The only thing that I did not enjoy when he got home was that he smelled like his mother. Everything he had smelled like her; sort of pastel, if that can describe it in any fashion worth mentioning. Finally I could not stand it a moment longer and I said:
"Yeah, you're going to have to get in the shower..."
"Yeah, really?" The Prof. said, jovial as ever.
"Yep. And I am taking your clothes from your suitcase and putting them directly into the hamper," I winced and turned around with the clothes piled on my arm.
By the time I turned around he was running the shower water in the bathroom.
She (who must be obeyed), I thought. Girl power. Who can resist me? In the place of a Dark Lord you would have a Queen! Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the Morn! Treacherous as the Seas! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth! All will love me and despair!
So I just went into the crawl space. I put on my hoodie with sweats and socks and shoes, carrying bug spray. I anointed every cobweb in my path. I got to the first water knob in good time, but realized that it was really dark on the way corner of the house where I had to turn the other knob. I forgot the stupid flashlight.
I went back in the house and got it. The kids thought I was done and were thankful that I made it alive. I told them that I still had to go down there AGAIN. Gee whiz, if one time wasn't enough! So I turned the flash light on, doused the cobweb beside me with more spray, and entered. I had to duck down once I got to the middle of the house, almost to my knees, but it was ok. No snakes. No little critters like mice or rats or anything. That stupid sink was still setting there like it was last year. I finally made it to the far beam in the corner but found a huge web with all manner of plump eggs dangling from it. I sprayed that sucker down and killed the mother spider. Spray got in my face a bit. I coughed. I got a little heavy on the spray, I think.
Finally once that was looking good, I inched my way in a squatting fashion to the way corner of the house past the final beam I was talking about. I found the mother of all spiders, Shelob herself. I whipped out my spray of Elendil. This spider was about as big as my hand, it was so huge. Just crawling up the wall like it ain't no thang. When I saw it was affected by the poison, I went forward and whispered, "righty, tighty" and turned the water off. I sprayed all the eggs I could find in my path.
And I am alive.
So it's only 2:20 in the afternoon and the day has been sort of eventful. I am merely contemplating the horrendous trip to the underground with a stick or two and some Raid, and I just got back from church.
Listen to me here. We all know that I am a tad bit moronic at times, but clearly I have a reason for my moronic behavior. If I had been able to talk to my husband last night instead of never getting ahold of him PERIOD I would have asked him how to get to church. The freeway way. He always takes some crazy back road way that is windy and consists of many roads that lead to I don't know where, but eventually we get to church. I know we pass something the kids call "the wrecked up house" and we pass many pastures and patches of trees and forest. I imagined myself trying to do this route but I found in my brain that I would get lost, run into a tree and kill myself because I would be so boiling mad that I have ended up in West Virginia. By that time it would be dark, I would run out of gas AGAIN, and I wouldn't be able to see because of my what? You guessed it, my cataracts. Yep, I actually have cataracts. Let's not get into it.
So---I went the freeway way to get to church thinking I KNEW where it was, how to get there, etc. Of course, I made the wrong exit, went up the street I THOUGHT it was on, and then had to turn around and go where my second gut instinct was telling me. That made us miss the whole entirety of the music, once we got there, and I had to go to the bathroom really bad because I drank lots of coffee on the way and then I spilled it on myself.
When finished with church I realized my kidneys hurt, or else just my lower back does and I sort of wished that I had kidney stones and I had to go to the doctor so that maybe the Prof. would feel really bad for ignoring me and not even giving me directions to church and then the house was so cold this morning because it was cold outside and I don't know how to run the thermostat and he talked about calling me to instruct me but he never did and I think I am going to restrict football for my men today because he is not home and I can do what I want. So I bought the boys a game and now they are on it.
But---I had to stop at the store first. Boy was it busy. Apparently they had crazy store coupons given in the mail that saved you a million dollars if you bought half the store and I must have missed out on that. No one had spares, nothing was given to poor me. Coupons, shmoupons.
So I bought the silent children some gum. Extra (classic bubble) and the Oldest flipped his open on the spot. He looked at what it said inside and yelped aloud in the parking lot, "'Fifteen sticks of unadulterated, mind numbing, euphoria-inducing, earth-shattering, long-lasting, and humble enjoyment!' Wow! Flashy!!"
Then when we got into the car he asked, "Mom, what's a leisure suit?"
The Professor is not home. He hasn't been home since Thursday morning (4 a.m.) when I took him to the DC airport. We are never usually apart. And he is never usually the one leaving. The last time I talked to him was Thursday afternoon when he arrived.
He has not called me or talked to me for two whole days. Actually, it has been longer. 53 hours.
But I am glad he is having fun and all, I just wanted to tell him that:
1. I had a nervous breakdown last night when I saw how messy the boys' room was.
2. I threw a fit.
3. I had another nervous breakdown when I saw how messy the Girl's room was.
4. I threw a fit.
5. I threw away half of her toys.
6. I am not joking about #5. I really did it.
7. I was up until midnight last night having a nervous breakdown and throwing away toys and bits of paper, beads, unneeded bags, broken plastic things, ripped cards, boxes, trinkets, stuffed animals, puzzle pieces, boxes, broken crayons, naked barbies, McDonald's toys, rusty pennies, crusty whatnots, strings, dishes, dolphin harnessed chariots, and other various bits of rubbish that ruined my life and caused me to become unglued.
8. I went to a couple vineyards with my friends today.
9. I had a great time.
10. I bought wine.
11. I saw a woman feeding a muffin to a horse.
12. When driving home I almost ran out of gas.
13. I had to pump gas at a really weird backwoods gas station and it was dark and I was scared and they didn't have a card swiper thingy so I had to go IN the stupid station and tell them I wanted a couple gallons of gas but the lady kept asking me how much I wanted to pay and I kept telling her I just wanted two gallons so I could get home and she kept suggesting prices and I didn't get it because I guess I'm dumb and I barely ever pump gas and so I just gave her ten bucks and she looked relieved to be rid of me and then I pumped the gas and it stopped when the dollar amount hit ten and I thought that a very novel invention and then I got in the car and drove home.
14. I ate really good peanut butter and chocolate frozen custard on my way out of town for dinner.
15. It was really cold in the house this morning because I don't know how to turn on the heat and am not sure if I should or not even if I could turn it on.
16. I watered the plants.
17. I'm glad you are having fun.
18. I wish I was there.
19. I am feeling selfish because I wish I was there A LOT.
20. I'm jealous a bit.
21. But I am happy for you.
22. The kids miss you and wonder why you haven't called.
23. John McCain winked at me.
24. Everyone wants to be my friend.
25. I have so many friends over here right now eating pizza and drinking wine with me, I can't believe it. In fact, it is getting a bit loud in here so I can't think too properly because I am busy with them and frankly, I just can't keep writing on here.
26. Just joking. I am actually alone with nothing to do. And I'm writing on my stupid blog and there's probably nothing on tv and the kids are in bed.
27. But even though you are a total blackguard for not calling me or probably not even thinking about me, I will let it slide this one time because I know you are having fun. And it ain't about me.
28. But it is a little.
29. I love you and I had a good day, did you?
30. Good night.
I just got back from visiting two vineyards in a semi-local college town. There was supposed to be a chocolate festival going on but it was relatively uninteresting as it seemed more like a bake sale than a CHOCOLATE festival. I was pretty disappointed. Plus, the music was so horrific (think Lawrence Welk but more boring) that leaving and going to a landfill sounded more interesting. Anything. My ears were bleeding.
So the five of us (I being the only married gal there---single women are just so cool) went on our little trip to the country vineyards instead. At the first one I ran into Eraser Eater's geography teacher (WHAT?!) and as I was tasting my cab she started asking me how I was liking the class.
Finally we went to the last vineyard and walked the grounds for a bit to see the ruins there. It was a perfect day and quite beautiful. I almost fell over on the ground and laughed myself into a hole when a high-strung rich lady tried to feed a muffin to a country horse begging at the gate, but I muffled it and laughed at the picture one of the gals took of the scene instead. Wow, it's a real horse! I think I will feed it the rest of my muffin! I think some of the girls lost respect for me after that or thought I was drunk because I was the only one laughing. What made it more funny is that the muffin rolled to the ground, the horse sniffed it, and walked away. And this was after it pooped right there when we tried to pet it.
Back to the hayride scenes though. I forgot to mention something particularly amazing about it. And you didn't think there could possibly be anything more amazing, did you? I had forgotten that at the semi-beginning of the ride we approached these two space ships. They were size-y enough, I guess, to fit a couple kids each. Suddenly we stopped and music started blaring. Loud Star Wars esque music.
"That's fake Star Wars music!" shouted the Oldest.
And shortly a guy, dressed up as an alien, came swooping out toward us with a cape on. He was purply-grey colored. The tractor started moving us along again and he followed us and gave us high-fives. He swirled from side to side and shook hands and waved until we were out of his reach, then as he stood far in the distance, a mere speck of an alien, he waved faintly as if to bid us a beautiful journey.
"His hand felt weird," said the Oldest. I imagined how many germs could be on that weird hand. Here, touch my bacteria-infested hand! I was just disturbed slightly by this whole let's entertain the kids with an alien guy that jumps out to fake Star Wars music. No one looked at the beauty of the scenery; they just looked at the various random garbage displayed behind bushes and whatnot.
And they had free apple cider. In oak barrels. And it was hotter than blazes outside. The kids wanted the cider, but bees were crawling all up in the spouts so I had to battle the insects. When the Oldest approached he immediately saw the issue and jumped back. I shot a look at him, daggers in my eyes as if to say, "Don't you dare scream!" Instead, a weak, fluty little chirp came out from behind his teeth. His face was so ruddy and damp as he grabbed the cup I handed to him.
I am avoiding my run. I shouldn't. It would help me out, I think. We dropped off the Professor yesterday morning at 4 a.m. in DC to fly to see his parents. To say the least, we were grumpy and tired all day, but it went well. I made us all go to bed at 8 and we woke up this morning at 8. Nice.
And I am not doing school today because I don't feel like it.
The day before I took the kids to a pumpkin patch on crack. They had slides and rides and rope swings and anything you can think of besides Disneyland. It was a bit insane. The Oldest was obsessed with the rope swing. He could not straddle the thing at first (well, the first twenty times he got in line to do it) but he was determined to accomplish this task and eventually he could do it in some strange robotic way.
They fed goats and went on a hayride that was unlike any hayride I have ever been on. We went through mud and lakes and a forest of trees and wooden characters from various movies and television shows. My Oldest even spotted "Waldo" by the lake, lurking around. He just hollered the entire time, declaring that he doubted this farm had the licensing to put up all these characters. We even passed George Bush at one point (behind a bush) and my Oldest yelped, "George Bush is even here! I doubt he would be very happy they have used his image without permission!!! Would YOU be happy about this law-breaking outrage?!"
I tried to shut his mouth. Duct tape, dude, duct tape! I even said it. My sister in law, who was with us, laughed. She knew what I meant. So did he. Eventually he shut it.
Eraser Eater said, "I would be very pleased if I were President, at seeing my image while going on a hayride. I think it's perfectly fine."
We did go to a corn maze, which was sort of fun.
Goat City was not my style just because goats make me think of Satan, and then they also remind me of when I ate goat at an Indian restaurant and the bite didn't make it past the base of my tongue. It would not go down! My stomach jerked in rebellion. I had to spew it out. Thankfully, at the time, there was a piece of chocolate in my purse. I ate it happily. So--when at Goat City I started to sniffle. I think I am allergic. Which means, I could possibly be allergic to Satan. Goat meat is of the devil.
It has been a bit tough lately dealing with my Aspergian boy, the Oldest (he is 12). I think it is because he is bigger than me, has a high energy level at times, and has increased hormone levels. I remember as a girl his age, crying at the drop of a hat over everything. My oldest brother used to tell me that I acted like I had a video camera following me around. Trust me, I didn't like that comment. But this is what I imagine he is feeling except that he is not necessarily crying, he just gets angry, I suppose.
And I am indecisive, which is bad for an Aspergian boy to have to handle. It takes me awhile to come to a decision because hey, I just want to get away from any thoughts of conflict and turmoil. I just don't want to deal with it. But I do. And I hate the outcome. Fussing, crying over a lost gameboy or game system, weeping while sentences like "I will not hit my brother" are being written fifty times on a page. Like I have said before, I frequently just say the words "duct tape" to indicate that I want him to just shut his mouth because he doesn't have to comment on every single thing in this here United States of America!
The day he scaled a wall at Co-op I found out that he chased a friend's van ( as it was driving away) to say goodbye. Maybe like the movies? Like a dog? This is also the same day he decided that it would be great fun to jump up and down and clap between jumps in a moving elevator. And then I found out that in his science class he refused that day to do his experiment because, I suppose, it was not working the way he anticipated.
There are days I think this an easy task and then there are days I just want to cry uncle and clock out and go home. I am not complaining. He is a brilliant child. It would be just so easy to stick him in front of a television his whole life and let him just play video games. He would be fine then. Seriously. That is the element his brain wants to focus on. That is what he lives for right now and I don't allow him to have it---I push him hard to conform to this life, to the normalcy of his surroundings---to something that is in many ways alien to him---society. I've had to fight hard and work hard to get him where he is today. At one point in his life as he was in Kindergarten I thought that he would never live a normal life and probably work fast food if that. I grabbed everything I could to fight for him, the Professor and I both.
And now I am tired. An Asperger's person is like a male times 100. What I mean by that is take a normal male and the way they think, and multiply that male by 100 and put it into one person. That is my kid. Hey, even just the other day the Oldest was sitting on the rocking chair in the living room saying to the Professor, "I will never understand 'woman.'"
"What do you mean, you will never understand woman?"
"THE WOMAN. I will never understand THE WOMAN in my life. They are way too complicated. All they care about is fashion and the latest styles. Life is more than styles, you know!"
"And all you care about is a gameboy. I could dress you in underwear out in public and you wouldn't give a rip---you'd play a gameboy naked. How are you going to ever understand fashion? Of course you don't!" I roared pleasantly from the couch.
He looked at me in a sort of shocked manner, rocking back and forth in the chair, "Well that's true!" He started laughing when the Professor couldn't hold it in any longer.
At least he got the joke! Gee whiz.
I found a guitar pick in the shower today when I was lathering up. That was interesting.
My ring is in better shape now. I mean, my wedding rings. Remember the betadine solution tarnished the gold? Yeah, well, I took some Comet like Doozie suggested and scrubbed them shiny and new. Thanks. I went for weeks "unmarried." The kids were worried I wasn't hitched to the Professor anymore. The Professor was deeply concerned about my loyalties.
Before putting on my rings, I asked the Professor if he would like to put them on me. I gave him a fleeting look of romance, eyebrows raised slightly. We were standing in the stair way; he was trying to get by.
He put up his hand. "Did it once and once only." He swept by me to go watch his football game. The blackguard.
"You need to get bit!" I hollered, still standing on the stairs.
Why is it 'anathema' to put tomatoes in chili? Just thought I would ask. I've always wondered. I make rockin' chili and I put tomatoes in it.
The Girl's new self-deprecating thing she says now is "I'm a pile of dust."
When I ask, "How are you a pile of dust?"
"I just am," she says," I am truly just a pile of dust!" She says this with a smile.
Age seven is a very random age, I think. I could be sitting down drinking coffee and reading a novel and my daughter could approach me and sing out of the blue, at the top of her lungs, "We can change the world, together!" She always has a look of glee on her face.
And on another note, I know I have been all tough in the past and have gone and fixed things and battled the underground, but for some reason this year I am dreading going into the crawl space where I saw all those spider eggs this past spring, waiting to hatch. I thought all summer how I should have brought some Raid down there with me and sprayed it all down, just while I was down there, you know, turning the water on. Now I have to turn it off, and I just don't want to deal with spiders. I really hate them. I told the Professor I was not looking forward to it, hoping he would gird his loins and be a cowboy just for me.
"Rach, we can just hire someone," he said.
Here we go again. Hire someone.
Hey, I'll pay you thirty bucks if you go down into my crawl space and turn the water off.
I just can't have that. So---I guess I will do it. I will bring Raid and a few sticks. The sticks in case I run into a few snakes, which I am not too afraid of. Just the spiders. Do you think sticks would help me? I don't know. I blame it all on Shelob.
I am a wimp and I have been forced to turn into a nag. A nag. From this time forth I am going to be rewarded with the deeds of getting on my Oldest's back about the dishes. Every time I order it he acts surprised. Just now I remembered. I have called the order just now. The response?
"Dishes?!" The incredulousness! (spell check is saying that is not a word. Hmm.)
I should try that out at lunch time and wait until two o'clock when they are all grabbing their bellies in hunger. "I want lunch mom," the Oldest would say. In fact, he would have said it at eleven o'clock, what am I thinking. That boy loves to eat.
"Lunch?! What???!!! You expect me to make you lunch? Why ever would you think that?! I'm sick of making lunch, I ain't got no food, so go catch a squirrel and eat it."
This would be expected of a kid who has stood and eaten a truffle I have handed him and declared after one nibble, "Scandalous!"
For about a year and a half now I have been running solidly 30 miles a week. Lately I have been running close to forty, but this past week have slowed down. It is not that I am tired of it, I just think my legs have gotten bored. So I have been making myself run a little less. When I do run, I am doing running programs on my treadmill so I am going up and down, up and down. On other days I just speed it up and run a short distance---about three miles. I think a year and a half of running the same bland distances has hurt my back (in addition to the strange way I sit when I play guitar) so I have started doing pilates two times a week. We'll see how that goes.
And I have stopped eating sugar. I eat whole grains, but that is the only real "sugar" besides what I get from an apple or something. Everything tastes so much better this way! You should try it! Last night I rewarded myself and had half a glass of red wine and oh my goodness it was wonderful! The flavor was tremendous. I think sugar annihilates your taste buds. Plus, for the past two days(after overcoming the sugar withdrawal symptoms for several) and I have felt GREAT. Not tired at all.
How's this for a boring post?
I am feeling quite dank underneath my shirt (I just finished a run that whipped my rear end), so I better get this going. The kids don't sound like they are doing school either.
I'm having the hardest time writing lately. Well, I have been just way too busy to write. Even to check email. The Professor thinks that's marvelous. He wants the computer to himself.
Today the Oldest:
--scaled a wall
--jumped up and down and clapped his hands while an elevator was descending and he was in it
--ate hordes of candy (including Lemonheads)
--talked incessantly during my Lit class (he is in it)
--organized a football game in the yard and was so bossy and controlling that Eraser Eater ran in and wept
I am going to bed.