Henry has been reading my blog.

If you are a regular reader and would like to know my new blog addy, please email me at sapphomom@gmail.com and I will give you the new url.

So apparently this is my diary. Or the term everyone uses now ... a journal. You buy some fancy book with a nice cover and empty pages and give it to a friend as a present and say ... now you go journal girl. Thanks. What if I don't want to?

When I was growing up we all had this little boxy things with small pages. It said DIARY on the front and had a key and lock and you would hide it in your room. Now my kids put locks on their phones and passwords on their email. And I pay for them to have these things?

Anyhoo, diaries .... journals. These things are ancient history. Now we blog. And hope someone, anyone will read it. As my friend Troy points out, most are boring and some are downright awful. But getting ones thoughts down is not bad. And maybe putting out good stuff instead of complaining is even better. I am trying. Really. But my life isn't cooperating.

Someone made a lot of money a few years ago (and Oprah helped her) touting gratitude journals. Write down five things every day you are grateful for. So here goes.

#1 - I am grateful that I was able to go and shadow Henry today. He is failing. Again. Bright kid but my new thought ...he is not competent. He just can't do the things he is supposed to do. And to me they are not that hard. I am not that bright. At least the IQ test results I saw from high school confirmed that. But I am neurotic and I am a do bee. I figure out what the teachers require and I fulfill that. How hard is that?

Well apparently it is almost impossible for Henry. He spaces out when assignments are given. He doesn't take the time to look at examples that will help him complete his work. He gives up.

It breaks my heart. Once again he is failing. My latest effort was to shadow him today. I had been threatening for a while and I figured I need to follow through since this is something he needs modeled for him. ahem.

He really put up a stink including calling me ten times last night from Missy's saying he wouldnt' go to school if I was going to go. I could kill the guidance counselor who told him. Missy doesn't like her. I saw her today and she told me she teased him about it. Maybe she is a twit. I wasn't going to tell him, just show up.

#2 I am grateful that from what I observed today, yes, my son does indeed have ADHD but I am also glad he doesn't seem to have behavior problems. Yes, the teachers have him in the front row and cue him when he is clearly lost or not paying attention. He may space out. He may lose his pencil. But he is not rude. In his spanish class I couldnt' believe how rude some of the boys were. Neither his science or math class was like this. Maybe it is the teacher and they take advantage of her. Maybe it is because the class is in a trailer so no one from administration can hear. But I observed a kid Henry used to be friends with in Elementary school. He was obnoxious. He had to be moved. He had to spit out gum. I asked Henry later about him and I said I had thought he was going to private school. He is an only child. Both parents work. They can afford it. Henry says he didn't get in. Has he changed or is he angry because he let his parents down? I think their names are Muffy and Corny. I know. The writer in me always wants to know the story and the journalist wants to know the truth.

#3 I am grateful that I was reminded of how much I liked algebra. Well Henry is in pre-algebra but it seemed like all algebra, all the time to me. When I was in what was then called junior high the smart kids got to take algebra I in 8th grade. (second year of junior high for you youngsters.) I didn't originally get recommended for it but I made my mother make a stink because I wanted to be able to say I got in to Algebra I. She did. And the thing is I did fine. I liked it. For as creative as I like to think I am, I am actually very structured and linear in my thinking. It made sense. Geometry in 9th grade did not and I almost failed and that was my last math class ever.

But I did discover an issue with Henry and math. If he gets it, he gets it. He does it in his head. Well the teacher wants the kids (and Baltimore County requires) that kids are able to show their work. How they arrived at the answer. Quite frankly the first time I did it, I used division instead of algebraic methods too. But then I tried to do it showing MY work. As the teacher told us to do.

By the way. I have discovered that if I went back to school where stuff was on an overhead I would need glasses. Much of it I couldn;t see. sheesh! I knew I wasn't able to see dubbing on my TV in my bedroom and now this. cruel, cruel world.

#4 I am grateful that Henry's next class was family studies. While I was not happy that his interim said he had three disciplinary actions so far, I wasn't up to watching him sew or cook or whatever they are doing now. So I left.

But that was mainly because I wanted to get home and get ready to babysit my mother while my father went to get a bone scan. His urologist who follows his prostate cancer recovery (over 20 years ago), wanted him to get it because of his leg weakness.

I needed to move the kitchen TV into the family room that has no TV so she could watch it. I couldn't get the closed captioning to work so the TV volume was on 36 when I usually keep it on 20?

My father doesn't understand why I can't just work when my mom is there or they are coming and going and interrupting me. Or when the TV is blaring. He just doesn't get it.

#5 I am grateful that while this continuing sage of my parent's demise goes on, I am slowly learning a lot about myself and my capabilities and giving my father shit right back.

So tonight my father calls and says he got good news when they got back to Glen Meadows. There is something in his voice that tells me he is being sarcastic. He says their rent went up to 3,000 a month. How lucky they were to have one month at the lower rate of 2,700. I don't know what to say. I tell him well things go up and the cost of energy is going up.

For him everything is about money. It is how he feels he has control over life. It has always been that way. Any toy or big purchase that I did not utilize to his satisfaction, I had to hear about. Any courses I took ... ballet, art, etc. and did not continue were thrown in my face as a failure. I finished the course but didn't go on. Just wasn't my thing. Everything had a price tag.

So the last thing I need to do to complete their move is to clean out their storage unit at their apartment. We need to do it this weekend. What do to do about my mother? As he left today after picking her up, he said he guessed he needed to use the AT HOME services. Yep. That is what they are there for.

So his other good news is that those rates have been raised too. Now $26 an hour, $17 a half. So it would be at least $52 on Sunday. And they are double on holidays and we are not sure that means weekends.

I explain that that could both be in assisted living and that would be 11,000 a month. Does he want that? No, he is not giving them all his money. Well then crack open your wallet and pay for some services.

I said that hey, this is my inheritance you are spending but I want you to be safe and happy. He says, you think I am happy? I said, well do you want mom to just die so you don't have to deal with this. (all he does is complain about my mother) He says no, he should just die. I say, you are so childish. He says, yes I am.

He wants to just leave my mother in the car while we finish with the apartment. I said no. I just think that is a bad idea (he went to the apt yesterday to get the card table because his mission in life is to get her interested in something and now that is puzzles and he needed something to put the puzzle on. he said he only was there a minute because he was afraid she woudl get out of the car but he wants to be there a couple of hours? he doesn't think clearly anymore, clearly.)

I told him that he can't keep dragging her places. He said well I have friends there still you know and someone can be with her. I said, you are going to get her up the the steps to apartment? Okay. no. And then he mentioned Alice and Warren, two friends from church who still live in the area. I was friends with their daughter and while I always thought I had the oldest parents of anyone, she may have at least matched me or had me beat.

Well, they are according to my parents even worse off then them. Alice also has dementia and Warren can't drive anymore. Their daughter comes down from PA to do stuff for them. Actually my father asked me to call her to suggest that they might be interested in moving to Glen Meadows. I called. She never called back. Sad. We have a lot in common right now but I think many people are in denial about how bad their parents/grandparents are because they don't want to deal with it. Well that ain't me. Give me a problem. I want to fix it. Unfortunately some things can't be fixed. Like making my father happy.

He said tonight he wishes he never moved there. I said you have been telling me for a year you needed to make a change. I told him I know how hard this all is. But he has to stop focusing on all the negatives. There isn't much joy left. And what joy is there, he can't articulate. Last night he called to confirm today. They were heading for dinner and then staying up there for a show. That is fun! But it can't crack this veneer that is hiding the truth. That they are on their last legs. Literally. I wish their quality of life was better. I can only do what I can do.

Okay, I am grateful that they are there and not under my roof. But part of me thinks maybe I should have taken him up on his offer to pay me lots for them to live here. I just couldnt' do it. He is so hard to deal with and I don't want to put my kdis through that. I offered years ago and would have had an addition. They laughed in my face. So that ship sailed.

Just like modern medicine saves people who end up being vegetables, I wonder if all this healthcare is worth it. There is a whole economy running on these seniors who have good healthcare benefits and get every test in the book even if there is no clear evidence that it will help anything.

Monday my dad saw his urologist. Tuesday my mom saw her surgeon. Thursday my father got a bone scan. And Friday my mom is getting a doppler of her leg.

My father is still driving. I have no idea how/when that will end. He is 88. But if he stops. I become the driver.

I don't want them dead. I want them to be vibrant and enjoy their lives. They aren't. My mother's memory gets wore daily and my father is so unhappy. If they truly are Christians and believe in heaven, don't they think there is a better life on the other side?

About a month ago my father gave me clippings from the paper. All usually insults.

But there was one about assisted suicide. When I asked him about it he said he didn't remember putting it in.

I don't know. The quality of my life sucks now too. But I have too much to live for.

That is the point.

And when it isn't there?

And so it goes .... or not.

Sitting here in my office. Drew Carey on the Price is Right is on the TV. It is blaring because I don't have closed captioning on that TV and I am babysitting my mom. My father had a doctor's appointment and didn't want to leave my mom or drag her there. I need to tell him it is fine but he also has to use the homecare services and have someone sit with her too. And, yes, pay for that service. Isn't that why they moved there?

I had run out of things to do/talk to her about so I suggested TV. I had already put together the new walker I bought her. My father says he needs one too now so he will use her old one. She keeps asking who it is for.

After a test run with the walker, I remembered I have her autograph book and book with dates of relatives births and deaths here. When cleaning out the apartment, I kept it for just such an occasion. When we are together and need something to do/talk about.

Oh right, the subject, the mind. My mother couldn't recall my kids names but then she starts with this autograph book and she can remember almost everyone who wrote something in there. I guess this was the thing to do back then. They didn't just sign their names but wrote little poems. A couple of people wrote "When you get married and have twins, you can come to me for safety pins." Or maybe she just read that one out loud a couple of times. I do think she read the book out loud to me at least twice.

She showed autographs of Sophie Tucker and Guy Lombardo. She remembers where she saw them and that Guy didn't charge but Sophie charged a dollar for her autograph. So strange.

Her mother wrote her some words of wisdom in ... 1932. Yikes.

So here I sit, staring at the computer
mom is flipping the channels and it seems to suit her
Waiting for my dad to come pick her up
This old age thing really does suck.

And so it goes ...

It's no secret that this country is more polarized than ever. Quite frankly I don't believe there is any so-called middle anymore even as presidential candidates in both parties portend to be speaking for it. And I have proof!

Check out this LA Times article.

Study finds left-wing brain, right-wing brain

Previous psychological studies have found that conservatives tend to be more structured and persistent in their judgments whereas liberals are more open to new experiences. The latest study found those traits are not confined to political situations but also influence everyday decisions.

Okay, our brains work differently. But do our hearts? I get the pull yourself up by your bootstraps mentality. But what if you don't even have boots? And therein lies the rub. Does one deserve help in obtaining boots or to move this to an actual debate, does one deserve help paying for health insurance?

The Children's Health Initiative Program is up for refunding. The dems want to expand as a first step toward getting health care for all. The pubs do not want to expand the program and would be just as happy doing away with it because they fear it is leading us down the path to socialized medicine. How's that for simplifying the whole dang thing?

So in an effort to put a face to the CHIP program, a family in Baltimore who benefits from the program took the risk to allow themselves to become poster children for the dems. Now they are being attacked by the right. Wait, no, the right is asking reasonable questions about whether this family should receive financial help. Which is it?

Unfortunately, I think that a picture of them in a previous Baltimore Sun article may have helped spur this investigation. I must admit when I saw the family in their Butchers Hill kitchen, I had a moment of pause when I saw the nice cabinets and granite countertops. I don't have granite countertops! How could they possibly need financial assistance? Then I realized, hell. This program is NOT medicaid. It is for the working poor and this guy is a woodworker! And, um, who am I to judge. They qualified for a program that the right considers a handout and the left considers a hand-up.

Here is today's Baltimore Sun's take on it all. Today's article includes a more modest picture of their small rowhouse.

Frost family draws ire of conservatives

So what is one to make of this bruhahah? It seems to have began when right wing bloggers started dissecting the Frost family and their assets.

Here is actually what one of the bloggers, Michelle Malkin, is saying.

Democrat poster-child abuse, the nutroots’ pushback, and the continued campaign to silence the Right

Okay. So the lefties are thugs. Guess what, the lefties are calling the righties thugs too! Check out this post on the progressive blog dailykos.com

A Movement of Petty Thugs by Hunter

Tue Oct 09, 2007 at 08:34:48 PM PDT

Ya know, I've been following what Malkin, Free Republic, Riehl and the like have been doing to Graeme Frost's family. I can't post much of anything on it, because any honest, no-holds-barred post I write about it right now would probably get me arrested. It's one of those little things about living in a civilized society -- sometimes you have to know where the boundaries are. And yet, there are continual examples of other people that don't have any boundaries at all.

Right now, the Frost's home address is posted on Free Republic. And it's been there for gawd knows how long -- nobody's taking it down. Why would they? The kid is the latest enemy of the entire conservative movement: they want to make him pay.

No, we've been through all this before, and we'll no doubt go through it again; if someone at any point so much as sends Malkin a nasty email, she writes an entire outraged self-ego-humping book about it. Someone calls out O'Reilly for a statement of appalling and unapologetic bigotry, he goes into seizures of anti-entire-planet rage. And God forbid someone dares make a schoolyard play off of an Army general's name -- the entire conservative movement freaks out and wet their goddamn pants in unison about the fucking horror of it all. But going after a kid and his family, because he read a statement on the radio? Fair. Fucking. Game. Hey, the twelve year old is an enemy. Get him.

I seem to recall spending a whole evening watching for and purging Malkin's home address from comments, the last time the righties pulled something like this, so that she wouldn't get the exact kind of stalking that the righties are now celebrating gleefully, again... but from their end, it's all good. That kid had the audacity to express a political agenda, and so he, his parents and his family must be destroyed. It's as simple as that.

No words will do. Eternal assboil Limbaugh, Canadian carpetbagger Steyn, obliviously self-unaware anchor baby Malkin -- yep, they're right. The twelve year old is "fair game", because he's a political opponent. So send the entire right-wing hate machine after him. Internet, hate radio, "pundits" -- the whole movement. That's all any of them are good for anyway. That's all they ever are good for.

There aren't any words to express what I really think about these shambling dermoid cysts dressing themselves up as humans. I certainly hope, in the back corners of my mind, that one or more of them gets accidentally hit by a runaway beer truck, or dissolved in cartoon-strength acid, or slowly eaten by a bear while having to listen to intellectual half-fart Jonah Goldberg read some of his worst goddamn grade-school-level columns aloud the whole time. That'd be a start: we could go from there, anyway, in our efforts to imagine some small measure of karmic retribution for the malevolence these people celebrate every day.

These people think the premise of not doing the worst possible thing to even the smallest political enemy at every possible opportunity would be nothing but an act of weakness. God help them and me both, but I sincerely hope they someday find themselves on the receiving end of the same treatment. They lack all semblances of human empathy: like exceptionally vicious and stupid dogs, punishment in-kind would be the only way they would ever learn. No, that is not true -- dogs do learn from kindness. In the entire animal kingdom, only conservatives do not.

It's long past time for people to stop treating Fox-style, Malkin-style, Limbaugh-style conservatism as merely a "political" phenomenon. It may once have been, but it isn't now. As of this millennium, it's nothing but a hate movement with neckties. Protofascism with bright, patriotic logos. Stop treating it with anything but revulsion and disdain. Stop pretending for even a bare moment that they are anything more than thugs.

So who are the real thugs? Will they please stand up? I have to admit my politics go far left. But to wish some of the right wing nut jobs get hit by a beer truck? In saying that doesn't that make me no better than them? Doesn't that make me a thug?

The right wing seems to have moved from AM radio to the blogosphere. Welcome.

But in this post-Dredge Report era of semi-newsies blogging without the checks and balances of true journalism, we will continue to have the likes of FOX News Michelle Malkin's and Daily Kos's Michael Lazzaro (Hunter) feeding the flames. I just wish those flames emanated more from unified heart than a bi-polar brain.

So yesterday I had both kids home sick. They both said they felt ill the night before and I know that there is a 24 hour thing going around. So when Eli, who sets his alarm for 5:30 when he doesn't have to leave for the bus until 7 AM (can we say neurotic?) did not get up until about 8 AM and Henry also slept in, I figured they were indeed sick. When they did finally get up Eli threw up and Henry had diarrhea. Then as kids do, the rest of the day they seemed pretty much fine. My attempts at them not having a FUN day were futile. If I want to work, they need to be engaged in some sort of electronic babysitter.

Around 3 PM I remembered that Henry had a dentist appointment and I had changed it once already and he seemed fine so we went. He had two cavities filled and let's just say my usual adult-like son needed me in there holding down his feet and hands.

Eli had a marching band event at Towson University at night. Twelve Baltimore County high school bands were performing in a showcase. He wanted to go and he seemed well enough. So on the way home from the dentist I stopped and picked up his band uniform at the dry cleaners. After parades and football games in this summer's amazing heat, the uniform practically was able to stand on its' own. Yes, a dry cleaners appointment was sorely needed.

I thought they needed to be there at 6:30 PM. Nope. Krishna calls. His friend's mother is on carpool duty. They will be picking him up at 5:45 PM.

Yikes. I throw together dinner, they eat and then Eli realizes that he doesn't have his trombone since he wasn't in school. Okay, Eli, how important is this because this is going to be a mad dash to get your trombone and you there on time. He wants to go.

I decide it makes more sense to go to TU first so I can ask the band director how I can get into the high school. Since not all the schools used school buses, there are tons of cars dropping off kids. We finally make it to the top and my new friend Joe (on his shirt) is directing traffic. I tell him my dilemma. I need to find the Towson High School band, not park and then leave.

We see the maroon band uniforms and he tells me how I can drive over to them. The band director says the school and the band room are open. Great. I wave to Joe as we barrel back out of the parking lot to rush over to the high school. The doors are locked but some kids are still there and suggest he go through the boys locker room doors which are open. The other side of the school though.

Finally Eli and his trombone get in and we are off back to TU. I say hi to Joe as I drop Eli off and say I will see him in a little while. I am coming back.

At this point I could have stayed home. Henry didn't want to go and I had a ride home for Eli. But I enjoy watching marching bands (who knew? actually I spent my childhood going to American Legion drum corps competitions and sort of liked it.) Also unbeknownst to Eli who thinks we say him in the Columbus Day parade on Sunday, we actually got there just as they were done. We told him he did great. So I felt like I really needed to be there. (can we say neurotic?)

But, no, I eat some of the chicken I left in the oven to dry out and hustle Henry out the door. I was driving on fumes with the engine putt putting during the mad dash so I need to stop for gas. I don't want to be late because my luck after paying $6 each, they will be first and we will again miss him. I only put in 5 gallons. Hmmmm. And that was $20?

So once again we drive up the long driveway to the TU Johnny Unitas Stadium and there is Joe now brandishing a glow-in-the-dark stick directing traffic. Hey Joe!

So we find the Towson Marching Band and sit next to them. Eli's turn won't be for an hour. But that is fine. Oh did I mention it was 90 degrees? But a nice breeze had come up.

I get to give Henry a socio-economic lesson. Some schools from less fortunate areas only have on t-shirts and pants. No heavy polyester uniforms with goofy hats. Okay, some bands are new. And apparently they all start out like that but Henry has a burgeoning sense of fairness in the world so I like to point out the inequities in our capitalistic society whenever I can.

He says he overhead the band director who is a bit of a pill say to someone when going over the schedule that Dundalk sucks. Well those kids were in the next row. In t-shirts. I tried to scan their faces to see if he indeed had said that and they heard. I SO hope not. But Henry (my hedda hopper) is like me. He sees and hears things others might miss.

Anyhoo, my alma mater, Parkville, is playing. Honestly I don't know if we had a marching band 28 (TWENTY EIGHT?????????????) years ago. Maybe. I wasn't into music or sports. They were good though.

Then, the breeze started getting ... breezier. I had reconnected with my friend Beth whose son went to different high school and hadn't seen in a while. We were sitting next to each other. She says she saw lightening. I said was that thunder? Henry says he felt a raindrop.

Then I look over to one of the band parents and she says they are going to call it. What? And before we know it it starts to pour, thunder and lightening. Now we have been in a drought all summer. Essentially no rain. But tonight? Of course. Imagine 12 bands, parents, instruments, etc. trying to get out of the stands.

Of course I can't find Eli, I tell Henry and Krishna to go up under cover. I stand there looking for Eli. Luckily Beth who always had extra chairs at soccer games and snacks to share, had an extra umbrella for me. I finally go up and there are the three boys. Fine. I tell them to wait and I will go get the car and to keep an eye out because they will have to run to the car because of all the traffic.

I finally manage to get to the car in sandals that are falling off my feet and wait in the line of cars trying to escape. When I get to the place where the kids can run to the car, there is Joe trying to direct cars and school buses and crazy kids running here and there.

See you at the rain date performance Joe!

And so it goes.

Henry and I had a lovely morning yesterday before church.

We dyed our hair and did our nails. I told him he is the daughter I never had.

Henry wanted either streaks or to dye his hair blonde and decided on dying it. I bought some white blonde hair dye and did his and then but two chunky streaks in my own. Last week he said he was bored and painted his toe and finger nails with whiteout. So while we were waiting, I said I could try and get it off white polish remover. Boy that stuff is hard to get off!

Then he did my toes. I then soaked my feet and got all the dry skin off but time ran out before we had to leave for church. Henry had offered to paint my nails and I may get him to do it tonight.

He really likes his hair and was all excited to see if anyone at church would notice. It is not white blonde. Just lighter. Both boys had blonde hair when they were babies but now it is much darker. He said no one noticed.

He is obsessed that his eyebrows are not lighter but I told him only movie stars get their eyebrows done too.

Thing is Henry probably is straight. He just likes to be outrageous. I just hope when he grows up it is more Robin Williams than the unibomber.

And so it goes ...

And I am still getting stuff out of my parent's apartment. Looks like I will need to do the storage unit which I have been avoiding because now my father is failing. ugh. I spent all day Monday at Glen Meadows. He had a pain in his side and felt like he needed to go to the ER so I went over to be with my mother but we couldn't figure out if he shoudl take an ambulance or what.

Then I suggested I take both of them and my mother and I could be in the waiting room. Took them separately down to the car in the wheelchair just as the nurse for Independent Living comes running and says wait. He had called her an hour before but hadn't heard back so us being us, we took matters into our own hands. We are now experts at medical crises. She said she finally got a hold of my father's doctor and she was supposed to assess him and then he should see the doctor doing the clinic that day. Their doc has clinic there but not on Mondays. So we get them both back out of the car and up to the Wellness Center. My father can't walk so we get a second wheelchair and someone from At-home services to help. The nurse was frustrated with us. I told her to be patient with us. We are so used to this crisis scenario by now that we just do it ourselves.

So the doc said it coudl be a couple of things, first ... constipation (my guess since my father is so full of it and also a big baby when it comes to illness in himself ... remember he passed out when he was told he had prostate cancer!). Second is diverticulitis which he has had. So he finally got xrays yesterday ... they brought the machine there. And did blood work. He was supposed to have a cat scan today but that was postponed because his creatinine levels were too high and we didn't have the results yet from the blood work or the xrays.

So I took over for my father on Monday and got my mother a shower (which she got very nasty about but hey, she stank!), took her to get her bandage changed and to rehab. Also helped insure they got dinner delivered. It was interesting how my mother bucked up when my father was down. She had more energy, helped make lunch, etc. Part of their mishegoss is that whenever she does something my father hawks her so she gives up. ack.

Anyhoo. He is doing better but I realized that if for instance he had to go to the hospital, my mother could not be left alone. I talked to the resident manager and she said in that case spouses go in to the health center (nursing home) for respite care. Well I am glad that is there but we are talking $350 a day and plus she has been in so many facilities that I don't think that would be good. They only allow up to 8 hours of at home services. So if that happens, I guess I coudl spend the night and just have at home services during the day. I asked about hiring a private duty nurse and the manager said she didn't think that was allowed but would check in to it.

Mr. Doom and Gloom says he was too optimistic and they should have gone in to assisted living. oy. well may be. I don't know. I do think now they should have gone in to the apartments but the only one available was too small and claustrophobic. But he is having trouble (or at least complaining) about how far it is to get to dinner. Here again is the classic waiting until a crisis. If they had made the decision earlier, they could have waited a few months until a nice apt was available.

Then last night I got a call from security that he fell in the dining room carrying a tray. I thought maybe they were eating in the cafeteria part (self-serve) instead of the dining room but he said they were short on help. Patience is not his virtue. He was fine. Just scraped his elbow.

Oh, the point of he needs the strap. Who needs the strap? Big Henry, yeah, sure. But this time it is little Henry. See I have some guy coming tomorrow morning to my parents apartment to get the dresser, the last of the free furniture and I asked him if I could pay him $25 to bring the loveseat and cedar chest here to my house and he said yes. I said I had to do it Friday morning, not today, because I was going to have to go to school with my son and sit with him in each class because he is just not doing what he is supposed to. This man said ... sounds like he needs the strap.

Ick. I almost wanted to say ... forget it. I don't like you. But on the other hand I have been thinking lately how kids, especially my kids, have no fear of me. ie. no respect. They were talking about it on the View the other day and how when they were all kids they couldn't talk back to their parents the way kids do now. It got me thinking.

Anyway, Henry natrually freaked out about me being in school with him all day and he did get a note that he did well in English and he got a 15/15 on a math quiz so I gave him a reprieve. But the threat still stands. And honestly, this one is working! :)

After his team meeting on Friday I really thought he would buck up but he still seems to not care. Not with eight women pummeling him about how smart he was but that he needs to do his work AND hand it in (I went through his binder on Tues. We found lots of missing work because he had just shoved stuff in the wrong sections.) So he said to me privately, he thinks he is lazy. duh. Well last year I gave up because he gave up by the end of the year. I am not giving up this year. Even if it kills me. Which it might.

Some days I really wish I could take the strap to Henry, my father and anyone else who gets in my way. It might just feel really good ... for a minute.

And so it goes.

I have gotten some feedback that all I do is complain on my blog. So I have tried to add some of my signature humor lately.

But today I just hit rock bottom. Delete, close the blog, whatever, if you don't want to read this.

Okay. So 8:30 this morning my father calls ostensibly to ask me how to cook the chicken he has in the freezer because he wants to make chicken salad for lunch. I tell him, no, you can't cook it in the microwave. yuk. Then he tells me that my mother who has been getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and then sitting in her recliner instead of going back to bed, did not have a diaper on last night and when he got up he saw a trail of poop (he said a trail and i had to ask my father whether it was poop or pee) from the recliner to the bathroom.

I offered to run some carpet cleaner over there. When I did laundry there for them I noted that they didn't have any Shout or whatever and my father said my mother always used the brown bar soap. So then he told me that he had bought oxiclean (after I told him he needed a stain remover) and that it would work on carpets.

He then went on to tell me that he didn't know if he could handle this and how he needs to watch my mother at all time and he didn't know he needed to check to see if she had a diaper on. I just don't know what to say.

So I say ... Okay. bye. back to work for me cuz see I gotta make a living.

Then I got a call from a teacher at Henry's school. He hasn't handed in his permission slip and money for a field trip. I knew about it because they send home an email every day with homework and stuff like field trips. I had told Henry last week he needed to get it in.

See a few years ago when I was keeping track of all the kids expenditures, Missy had suggested we each take a kid and pay for school costs. I thought that was a great idea. She now says never agreed to my plan.

I have spent a couple of hundred dollars on Eli (the kid I pay for) for marching band outfit rental, tuxedo rental for concert band, $90 for a calculator, $90 for soccer and not to mention I apy for all the stuff regarding church.

Anyhoo I explained to the teacher why I wasn't sending in the money (teachers must hear all this shit so I am not SO embarrassed.) She said she would call Missy. I called Missy and left a message and she called me and said ...

... she didn't have the money
... she has no money because she is going to her nephews wedding in a couple of weeks
... she will pay me back if i pay it
... why doesn' she get notice about these things (um they send home a permssion slip with the costs which Henry lost after I told him to tell her about it)

and when I started to say ... we have this agreement she started yelling that we didn't have an aggrement ... I hung up.

When she came to pick up the kids ... it is her day but Eli's bus comes here and after Henry kept coming here every Wed*which she had major fits about) she finally acquiesced that he could since she needed to pick up Eli anyway. duh. And I really didn't like him going there anyway because he has no phone (he lost it) and they have no landline so I really don't want him there for hours without a phone there.

So she just beeped when she got here but then she called me later and wanted to know if she could pick up the chekc and I said no. I had talked to Henry about this.n and he seemed to undertan. I HATE putting him in the middle but I have finally decided I can't keep doing this for her.

I just don;t get it. First of all if her money is that tight that she can't cough up $32 for a field trip then that really worries me. When I have said no before, okay maybe once, she came up with it. So as I told her she either has to post date the check or tell them she is poor or whatever.

I know I could take the high road and just pay the fucking $32. Do I really have it. No. But kids come first. Not nephews weddings, not cigarettes, not the girlfriends childs support.

I am just really trying to reclaim my power. Whether it is my father, or Missy or the kids. It does no one (well except for one) good if I just let everyone talk to me however they want.

Oh and while I AM complaining ... I told Henry that the county school system just started a free homeschooling program. And if he continues to need one on one help (what I have done with his last few homework assignments) which can't happen in public school, I am going to homeschool him. That really shook him up.

We have a team meeting on Friday so I will have a better handle on it. We choose that day because that was the only day that Missy could possibly come so we will see if she shows. Honestly I hope she doesn't. All she does in these meetings and we have had plenty-- is toot her own horn about all she does to help him which is complete and utter bullshit.

So I cried a lot today. I feel like there is nothing fun or good in my life. I love my kids but they aren't enough and they are both PIA. My parents are still not okay and I still haven't finished cleaning out their apt. My ex just makes me nuts. And then I feel like I am the crazy one.

I really need some fun. A really nice vacation. But no time or money and quite frankly I woudl come back to how my life is so SOS.

I guess I shoudl be greatful to be alive and now healthy. Somehow that isn't giving me any solace tonight.

And so it goes.