I Did a Stupid Thing

I ate pizza. Yes, I know. Wheat and dairy. Oh, believe me, I know. It sounded so good. So greasy. So cheesy. So not worth the two days of extreme discomfort I endured afterward. I doubt if I will ever touch a piece of regular pizza again.

This all got me to thinking about a handful of people I've encountered lately. The ones who roll their eyes or look all offended when I say that I'm allergic to wheat and dairy. You know what, I don't really care how inconvenienced they might feel, or how offended they are that I'm not willing to try their cheese-encrusted whatever. I'm starting to feel a little offended that someone would want me to spend a couple of days doubled over in pain. Or that my long-term health matters less than their birthday cake. And some of them are people that you would think would care about such things.

So, to those people who think that this is just a fun new hobby I'm trying out, you can think again. I cannot begin to express how difficult this journey with my health has been, what a relief it is to feel a little better, and how much I don't care that your cheese and cracker platter didn't get eaten. Feed it to the dogs.

Why We Don't Have Pictures Taken Very Often

I finally got my act together and took the kids for some real live studio pictures. This picture demonstrates why I hate this activity.

I have 29 similarly unusable poses. See, here's another one.

This one of J-Man is a beauty.

Big K looked lovely and was very cooperative. I'm trying to give credit where credit is due.

Trouble Brewing

J-Man has hit a new stage of development. I don't know quite what to call it. It's not listed in any mainstream parenting book. Maybe we could call it the "foster care wannabe" stage.

I'm sure I've mentioned J-Man's lying before. Of course, nobody but his immediate family and his therapists would characterize him as a liar. Because he's good. Stinkin' good. So stinkin' good that you don't know you've been had. Last night at the dinner table the girls were having a small tattling session regarding something that had happened during the day. And J-Man, with all the venom he could muster, busted out with: "Mom told me to shut up today". Now, I can assure you that I did not. We do not say "shut up" at our house. I'm sure I said some other stuff that wouldn't win me a mother-of-the-year award, but I did not say "shut up". It was apparently the most heinous accusation that J-Man could come up with. Fortunately he made this accusation in front of his family, who know the real deal. What happens when he makes a false accusation about me to his teachers? Who will they believe?

Anytime lately that we've been in the presence of another adult, J-Man will take the opportunity to air grievances. Both real and imagined. With gusto. He will be angry and offended, or he will sob, depending on what he thinks will win him the most points. He recently didn't get to go on a camping trip with his Dad and sisters. (Because he would have ruined it for everyone.) He made sure to complain loudly to everyone he met for the next week. He did not, however, share that he got to pick out movies and go out to dinner every night, or that his room was being painted while the camping trip was going on. He is a master manipulator.

J-Man has also developed a fun new trick over the summer where he pretends that I'm hurting him. Here's how it started: When we are in stores, he will walk about 5 feet directly behind me so that I have to keep looking back to make sure that he's still there. Because he will wander off if given half a chance. I tried holding his hand, but then he just drags me backward. So what I've taken to doing is walking with one hand on his back or shoulder so that I can keep him alongside me. He doesn't like this. So he started yelling that I was hurting him every time I put my hand on him. Fun. Couple that with his overactive startle response and I might as well call the social worker myself.

So here's the upshot. I have a cute little manipulative liar trying to present himself as a deprived, neglected, abused child. And he's been a deprived, neglected, abused child, so he knows how to play the role convincingly. How long will it be before the wrong person sees and misinterprets something? How long will it be before social services shows up at my door? How long will it be before not only J-Man, but also my girls, end up in foster care?

Oh, Look at the Time

I'm not exactly sure how nearly a month managed to slip by since I last posted. I'll just skip over most of the month and give a brief update on the state of things around here.

Duke is maybe recovering? Maybe not? We don't really know yet. He has been back and forth to the vet trying to figure out where things have gone wrong. We'll be back tomorrow for another visit. We have added ear infection and eye infection to his list of ongoing maladies. Why was he abandoned, you ask? Hmmm...let me think about that one...

We have passed the 20 session milestone with J-Man's neurofeedback. We haven't seen much progress yet, but hopefully we'll get there soon. We did have some good news about supplemental funding for his sessions, which is a huge blessing.

We are down to under three weeks to go until school starts. Can I hear a hallelujah? Summer break. It's not for wimps. The kids have been to summer camp, been camping with Dad, gone to swimming lessons, had rooms painted, attended a variety of VBS's, gone to the cabin, visited cousins, etc. We have been purposefully busy this year. Unstructured free time is evil. Now we are on to school preparations. Clothing needs to be tried on, school supplies need to be purchased, and I need to figure out if J-Man will really ride the school bus for an hour in the morning. I'm torn on that one.

Back soon with some venting I need to do.

Humiliation, Thy Name is Duke

My boy had surgery on Tuesday to repair a torn ligament in his knee. Here he is wearing the Cone of Shame. (Anyone know the movie reference?)


Here you can see his baldness better. He is considering joining the Fur Club for Dogs.

It's been a rough week for the Duke and his Mommy. His girls will be home tomorrow to shower him with love and sympathy, which should make life better for all of us.

And They're Off!

Both K's boarded the camp van this morning and headed off to the northern regions of the state for a week of summer camp. I'm used to Big K doing this kind of thing, but I'm feeling kind of sad that Little K is old enough now. It will certainly be quiet around here for the next few days.

J-Man is signed up for a week of Vacation Bible School, so that leaves me to my own devices for a couple of hours every day. What shall I do, what shall I do? How about grocery shopping and errands! Oh yes, the freedom almost makes me giddy.

Home Sweet Home

We've just returned from our annual Cabin Trip. This year we opted to rent a cabin on the lake instead of hauling our camper to the far ends of civilization. While the rented cabin was an improvement over the camper, the plan still needs a little fine tuning before next year rolls around. I could share several pictures of our deluxe accommodations, but I think these two will adequately tell the story.

The upstairs had a separate entry from the downstairs, and was obviously added on much later with little oversight from anyone with architectural experience. Or common sense. Here is the "bathroom".


Yes, that is a toilet tucked into a nook in the wall and partially shielded by a folding screen. I don't see anything weird about that, do you? The "kitchen" is just a few feet away on the other side of the room. Let's not dwell on that point, but rather move on to the view from below.


Now we're in the original part of the cabin, decorated in a charming country motif circa 1987. You can see there the refrigerator. That pipe coming out of the ceiling looks odd, you say? Hmmm...what could it be? F-f-f-lush! Oh, dear.

It's good to be home. Where all the bathrooms have doors and the plumbing is where it should be.