Good Night, Sleep Tight…

Yesterday, I published a post about underwear.

I’ve been blogging for six years now, yet I found myself writing about underwear. And not even good underwear. Not sexy underwear, not underwear with cool characters on them. Granny panties is what y’all got.

Is this what rock bottom feels like?

Just kidding, of course. Writing is writing, right?

Okay, maybe no more underwear talk this week. I’ll save my bra post for next week.

The boy gave me a good laugh today. We were talking about how things have changed since the pandemic, and he commented on not staying overnight with my dad.

“I miss staying over, but it’s probably for the best,” Little Man said. I nodded in agreement, since the closer we get to the election, the nuttier my dad usually gets.

That wasn’t LM’s reason why, though.

“His bedbugs creep me out.”

I laughed. “What?”

“You know…his bedbugs. He has bedbugs, and it just weirds me out to think about them crawling all over me.”

I laughed. If my stepmom had bedbugs in her home, I’d know about it, and the house would probably be burned down.

“Papa told me. Remember? It was a long time ago, back at his old house, when he told me they had bedbugs.”

Oh yeah!

I remembered then. Little Man was 4 or 5, and my dad had done the whole “Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite” bit with LM. LM took it seriously, though, so he told his Sunday school class the next morning that his grandparents had bedbugs. When they brought him home from church, we were eating supper, and LM started talking about the bugs. “I told my teacher about your bedbugs!”

“What?! I don’t have bedbugs!” my stepmom exclaimed.

“Yes, you do!” LM replied. “Papa says so!” The look on my poor stepmom’s face at the thought that the church thinks she has bedbugs.

We all had a good laugh over it, and my stepmom said she’d make sure his teacher knew there weren’t any bed bugs. Well, somehow in our laughter, it appears that no one explained the nursery rhyme and that LM still thought they had bugs.

“There were no bedbugs, LM! It was just a rhyme” I told him.

“Yes there are! I don’t feel them crawling on me at night, but I know they’re there.”

Lawdamercyjesus.

I made it crystal clear this time that the bedbugs thing is just a fun little rhyme and does not indicate an infestation. Hopefully the next time he sleeps over, he’ll be more comfortable.

Birthday Boy

It’s the boy’s 12th birthday. How is he that old? How are we just a year from him being a teenager? Where the hell did the time go? I swear, it was just yesterday that he was letting me dress him in a cute little black and white striped polo shirt, blue jeans, and black and white Converses for his first day at preschool.

(Now he does not let me dress him at all, at least not without a fight, and certainly won’t agree to polos or jeans on his own. Who the hell hates blue jeans?!)

The cake is in the oven. It’s a lemon cake, and it isn’t even from scratch, not that I’ll tell the boy that because he says he doesn’t like box cakes. (He also is blissfully unaware that my much loved strawberry cake is from a box, albeit not made with the box recipe, plus it has fresh strawberries.)

He had a birthday party with some friends on Saturday. We did an escape room for the first time, which was super fun. And it’ll probably be even more fun when my husband and I do one on our own as a date night, because those kids were unorganized and didn’t even get the first clue until the end, when the kid running it told them they missed it. But they finished with time to spare anyway, of course! Those are four super smart kiddos, though, so I’m not at all surprised.

One of the kids he invited is the girl I suspect he likes. Watching them together on Saturday made me think this even more, and I’m pretty sure it’s a mutual thing. It’s funny–this child is so unaware of personal space. If he’s sitting next to you at the table, then he’ll more than likely be half in your lap, because it’s like some kind of magnetism takes over that makes him be uncomfortably close to you. This was the case with his female friend, and she did not tell him to move. In fact, she was leaning into him and grinning, so that’s how I know.

It all went well, although I was kind of worried we’d get kicked out of the restaurant for those kids getting so loud. Lots of laughter, lots of obnoxiousness that you’d expect in a few sixth graders, etc. They had so much fun, though, although a nasty headache was settling in on the way home from the loudness.

Sunday was the family party. And I was kind of worried we’d get kicked out of that restaurant for BG and her cousin getting so loud.

There was one glorious moment when LM was opening his presents. He got a card from one of his grandparents, and it had money and a little tube inside.

“I know how you go through Chapstick,” she told him, “so I stuck a tube in there for you.”

I couldn’t see it clearly, but knew it did not look like Chapstick. After he was finished, my brother picked it up to look at it, since he didn’t think it looked like Chapstick, either. It wasn’t.

Image result for cold sore medicine

(Not the actual tube, but close enough.)

We both realized at the same time and about died laughing. My MIL wanted to know what was so funny, and I told her between gasps that she hadn’t bought her 12-year-old grandson Chapstick, but cold sore medicine. And boy was she embarrassed.

“I meant to get Chapstick! I know he isn’t doing anything to get cold sores!” LM doesn’t have the first clue about cold sores, but he knew she was embarrassed, which was enough for him to tease her and refuse to give it back.

Fun times.

Tonight it’ll just be the four of us. LM requested filet mignon for supper, so my husband is handling that. Mr. Fancy Pants. He already knows what we’re getting for his birthday since his list was so limited. I had exhausted my non-list ideas for Christmas and couldn’t come up with anything else. He asked for a new BB pistol, an Apple watch, and a cat. We can’t get a cat right now, which I told him, but I did get the other two items. (Albeit not an Apple brand watch because that went over our limit.)

I did not want to get him a BB pistol, but my husband was for it, so he’ll have one. (He has the typical BB rifle most boys get, and I confiscated that after he accidentally shot his sister in the face a couple years ago. My husband was supposed to be supervising, but didn’t supervise very well because he was letting him shoot at targets IN THE DIRECTION of where he was playing with BG. Wtf?) Hopefully no eyes are almost put out with this one, sigh.

Time to move on, so happy birthday LM!

Funny Bits With The Girl

The girl is often full of herself, and she’s had quite a few funny moments over the past week. Here are a few of them:

Baby Girl told me about playing with another little girl at recess. Baby Girl is 41 inches tall and this little girl, who is just a year older, is almost five feet tall. I was shocked to learn she is six! Anyway, they play family together. I asked BG about their roles, since I know she hates getting stuck as the baby, which is what usually happens.

“My friend is the mommy, and I am the pet lion,” she told me.

I love everything about that.


I was getting something out of LM’s closet and was kneeling over when his old infant car seat fell out of the top and hit me base-first on the head. I yelled and Baby Girl asked what was wrong. I told her, and her response was less than sympathetic.

“You’ll be fine.”

She sounds like a seasoned mom.


BG and LM probably fight more than they get along, but they do have their super sweet moments. LM was helping her put together a LEGO set her grandma gave her and told BG how much he loved her. Baby Girl said she loved him, too.

“I love you more than nothing.”

She has a way with words, huh?


When I called for BG to come into the living room and get ready, she didn’t answer and let her magnadoodle answer for her:

I love that she put an exclamation.

Happy Tuesday!

Friday Funnies

This has been an exhausting week, but I’ll save all that for another post. For now, I’m gonna focus on a few things that made me chuckle this week.

My husband’s uncle is on Facebook. He’s in his 80s and is quite a piece of work (he once told my husband all Obama supporters should get out of the country). My husband showed me something he posted this week that had us both laughing.

Nope, you’re not gonna find friends on Facebook by posting a status, dude. The funny thing about this is that he has multiple Facebook profiles (two with his name misspelled, including this one), and he has added himself to his other accounts. And I don’t even get that last thing. Why would you do that? My husband’s dad has ten, yes TEN, Facebook accounts that we know of, and he adds himself to all of his other profiles.


Coming in the year 2040: MarsFrog Frozen Yogurt. It will be available on the planet Neptune. Originally, it was going to be on the moon, but Baby Girl changed it to Neptune. She decided that after she becomes an astronaut, she’s opening up her own frozen yogurt shop. Fine by me, because I love the stuff. She asked me to go through astronaut training so I can come with her and help with her shop. I agreed. She’s still deciding what she wants to have on her toppings bar.


I swear, sometimes I still feel like I’m dealing with a toddler. Last night, I succeeded in pissing off Baby Girl while giving her a bath. Somehow we started talking about our vacation for next summer, and I told her we were cruising to Mexico. She asked what language they speak there and I told her Spanish. BG said she didn’t want to go there because she doesn’t know enough of the language to talk to them. I explained that many people there also speak English like she does, so she’d be fine.

“I don’t speak English,” she said.

“Yes, you do.”

“NEVER! I would never speak English! I talk regular.”

I told her that English was the language she was speaking at that moment, which caused her to start thrashing around and yelling. After she calmed down, I explained that England, another country, colonized this country, which is why we speak English. She seemed satisfied with that and stopping fussing over it.

Of all the ways I can piss her off, I would never have imagined that would be one of them.


That’s all I’ve got for now. Happy Friday 🙂

Hello, Middle School

Today was the first day of middle school for Little Man. It took all I had to keep from crying at drop-off. I made a comment to LM about being on the verge of tears, and he said that if I cried then he’d cry, too, so I held them back for the moment. The boy was in first grade when I started this blog (and his sister was just a few months old), but here he is starting sixth grade.

LM only had a half day today, but he said he liked it. He said his homeroom teacher is awesome and funny, and he’ll have her for language arts and an elective class. He said the math teacher told them she was really strict and would probably make them cry. Yikes. His favorite teacher in elementary school also told them that — and compared herself to Darth Vader — so hopefully the math teacher ends up being cool. (He needs strict, though.) The other teacher he saw is someone he knows from the community playhouse that thinks a lot of him, so that’s good, too. We’ll see about the other ones on Monday.

Yesterday, I asked LM which classes he was looking forward to this year. “None of them. I don’t like learning the stuff the school wants to teach me. I want to learn what I want to learn.”

Lordy.

So I asked which classes specifically he didn’t look forward to. He loves language arts, math, social studies, and science. He loves theater and technology. After thinking about it a little more, he admitted that he did look forward to all of those classes. He also said he kind of looked forward to homework again because it was nice to have a routine. I don’t think he was being sarcastic.

I was worried that the class transitions, lockers, etc. would be overwhelming for him, but he said he already has his locker number and schedule memorized. He’s unsure about when he can use the bathroom outside of class. He insists that there are no restroom breaks and that kids are supposed to go during class, which doesn’t make much sense. Can you imagine having 30 kids and half of them needing you to sign a hall pass to leave during a 45-minute class? I would’ve lost my mind and wouldn’t accomplish a lot while teaching!

Baby Girl had open house last night. We practically had to drag her in since she decided she wasn’t going to kindergarten anymore. That was a sight to see. After she settled down, she met some other kids and seemed to get along well with another girl who was every bit as strange as she is. They had dinosaurs attack the Barbie dollhouse set up in the play area, which got the stink eye from some other girls. Weird kids unite 😉

The girl will have her tonsils removed next month. She has sleep apnea and very large tonsils, so hopefully this will help her get better quality sleep at night. (And maybe even stop the 1AM wake ups, where she also wakes me up and keeps me practically hanging off the bed every night since she has us in the “H” position.)

This mom doesn’t know how good she’s got it:

BG is understandably very anxious about this. We have a month to get her feeling okay over it. I’ve already told her about the rolling bed, wheelchair, fun mask that helps her sleep for the procedure, getting to miss school and eat ice cream for a week. She said all of that sounded good except for getting her tonsils cut out. I wish she didn’t need to have it done. Her apnea is mild enough that it’s not absolutely necessary, but they said she likely wasn’t getting good sleep at all most nights. The doctor also said it can cause ADHD symptoms. I know it’s a relatively safe surgery, but all surgeries have risks. I also hate to make her go through years and years of not being well rested, so hopefully all will be well.

Aside from some cleaning around the house, we have a lazy weekend ahead of us. No plans to go anywhere, plus a list of superhero movies to watch.

That’s What She Said

Some of y’all know that The Office is one of my favorite TV shows ever. The boy has watched it with us for a long time. We used to be careful about which episodes he watched, but since turning 11, we haven’t paid attention as much. And this has resulted in him saying a few things that are rather inappropriate.

I’ve heard, “That’s what she said” about 500 times. In all fairness, that became a thing at LM’s school. A lot of his classmates also watch The Office, so they have all picked up on Michael’s favorite saying. The kicker? They don’t have a clue what it means judging from the examples LM has given me. For example, if the teacher said, “Read blah blah for homework,” one of the kids would say, “That’s what she said.” Or if the teacher said, “Line up for lunch,” someone would say, “That’s what she said.”

They basically think the phrase is supposed to be used for whenever a female says something, which is hilarious. LM accidentally used it appropriately recently. I commented on something being a mouthful, and he said, “That’s what she said.” He had no clue why I thought that was hilarious vs. my lack of laughter when he later told me, “That’s what she said” after I commented on how good the tacos were.”

Remember this one?

Yeah…LM called his sister that a few weeks ago when he got pissed off at her. I was driving at the time, and driving isn’t a good thing to be doing when you hear your son call his sister that. After telling him not to ever repeat that again, I asked him what he thought it meant. “It means she’s a dumb brat,” he told me. Uh, no. Just no. And even then, we don’t call names.

(BTW, when I had to reorder checks last year, I tried to have this printed on my checks. I know, I know, not mature, but the lady in the office at LM’s school is someone I don’t like at all, so I wanted to print them for her — every time I send in a check, it’s in an envelope only she sees. Unfortunately, the company canceled the order.)

And just last week, LM made a reference that caught his dad off guard. He was in the bathroom supervising the kids brushing their teeth when I heard him yell, “NO! Don’t ever say that again!” LM said this:

And we’re back to making sure he only watches certain episodes of the show.

Home Alone

Y’all remember how busy my June was? Well, it was riddled with stomach bugs, too. I guess that’s the price you pay when the kids a) go to camps and b) constantly have their hands in their mouths. They pick up everything.

The last bug didn’t involve puke or diarrhea, so that was nice at least. It involved fevers, headaches, earaches, muscle cramps, and a sore throat and lasted a few days. And now that I’ve written that out, I realize it sounds a lot like the flu. Do people get the flu in the summer? I’ve never heard of it, but if anyone would get that, it’d be my two.

The girl won a free stay at a themed hotel/water park near us, so that was planned for Sunday. Unfortunately for me, a migraine hit on Saturday, and then I woke up in the middle of the night with a fever and the absolute worst headache I’ve had in my life. The rational part of my brain knew it had to be a double whammy of the migraine and their bug, but the non-rational part (which tends to be a big part at times) was convinced I was gonna die. When I had that cochlear implant surgery, they told me there is an increased risk of meningitis, so I was freaking out a bit. WebMD suggested a brain hemorrhage, by the way. I don’t know why I even bother with that site.

I woke my husband up after I took my temperature and told him I might be dying. He said “Sorry” and went back to sleep. So in between groaning over my head throbbing, I silently fumed at him.

I stayed home from the trip. Hearing the girl scream at the top of her lungs in the other room made my head hurt worse, and there was no way in hell I was gonna try to be in the car with her for an hour. Plus I knew I’d just be in the hotel room, so no point in going. I’m 35, and that was the first time I have ever stayed alone at night. I don’t necessarily want to be around people, but I don’t like being alone either, because I’m a fraidy cat. On the rare occasion I was supposed to be alone in the past, my baby brother would stay with me. He works weekends now, though, since he’s a cop.

Y’all would’ve laughed at my paranoid self. I had the house all set up so I would hopefully hear any intruders. I put stuff at all the exterior doors that would crash over if anyone broke in, had the lights and TV on, and I stuck a door stop thingy under the bedroom door. And then it occurred to me that if I super felt like I was dying in the night and had to call 911 that they wouldn’t be able to get to me. Paranoid/anxious person problems.

No one got me. And the possible meningitis obvious was just a migraine and bug. Whoo hoo, I made it!

Hopefully with July being slower, and staying inside more because of the heat wave, we can avoid more bugs. 🤞🏻

And Now We Know

Some of y’all who have been following this blog over the past few years know that our parenting experience with Baby Girl has been challenging in ways. We kept waiting for her to outgrow certain behaviors (I can’t tell you how many times we were told it was all a phase), but that never happened. At the end of last year, BG’s pediatrician referred her to a specialist. We saw a family PA prior, and she always brushed us off about BG’s issues. The pediatrician found the behaviors alarming, so she referred her to a specialist and also got the ball rolling to start speech therapy and occupational therapy. The specialist didn’t seem very concerned about the meltdowns, though, and thought she has ADHD. The appointment was very short, though, and when LM was diagnosed with ADHD, his doctor took several appointments to come to that.

We decided to get a second opinion. We wanted to meet up with the folks from her school before summer ends with a better idea of what was going on so we could all be on the same page and develop a game plan.  We expressed our concerns with the new doctor in the initial appointment, and he said he wanted to do a thorough evaluation to look at different possibilities for what was going on with her, but that he was primarily concerned about autism. 

Over the past couple of months, BG saw the psychologist several times, we did a shit ton of questionnaires, and he talked to her preschool teacher. On Friday, we got the results. First, he agreed with the other specialist and said she does have ADHD. He came to that conclusion after spending more than 10-15 minutes with her (which is what the other specialist did, sigh), so we were comfortable with that. Next, he said that she also has high functioning autism. He spent about an hour going over the tests and stuff and showed us how everything supports his diagnosis. The doctor said that it can be tough to diagnose in gifted younger girls, but that she was a textbook case of a little kid with HFA.

I was surprised. I knew autism was a possibility, of course, but still didn’t expect it. And I was flabbergasted at first on how she would be considered a textbook case. She can be very outgoing and chatty when she wants to be, she can be very charming, she doesn’t stim (or so I thought), she made a couple of friends at preschool last year, and she isn’t terrible with making eye contact. She has such a feisty and mischievous little personality, too. BG just has a real spark to her.

Granted, there are “buts” to some of those things. Like, she can be outgoing and chatty, BUT it’s usually her talking on and on about the stuff she’s into. And with her friends, she told me how she doesn’t play with them at the same time, but switches up depending on who will do what she wants. As far as eye contact goes, sometimes she does okay and sometimes she doesn’t make it at all. Like last week when she and I met with her teacher, BG talked excitedly about her birthday for a few minutes, and then wouldn’t make eye contact with her teacher at all, would barely speak outside of “yes” or “no” questions, and talked in the flattest voice ever. It was like someone flipped a light switch. She can be in her own little world a lot, though, so it’s hard to say that when she doesn’t make eye contact (or doesn’t maintain it well) that it’s because of a specific reason.

Aside from not having any of the severe behavioral issues that BG has, LM seemed to be a better fit for that when he was tested around age 7 or 8. My husband, on the other hand, later told me he wasn’t surprised at all and said he knew she had autism, that it’s obvious, and it was just a matter of getting it diagnosed. I don’t remember him ever saying that before, but okay. He also pointed out that LM was also chatty and charming when he was younger, which I guess I had forgotten since he is now a moody tween. At his theater camp, he wouldn’t even sit with the other kids…he wanted to sit by himself and look at his Pokemon cards. I asked why and he said, “None of those kids will be in my class next year, so why should I try to be friendly with them when it doesn’t matter?” As an introvert, I can relate so hard, but as a mom, c’mon, kid!

When I brought up that non-textbook stuff with the doctor, he reminded me that it’s a spectrum disorder and that girls with it present differently from boys. Being outgoing can be normal, he said she does stim (but it isn’t obvious like hand flapping would be, but he considers the nail biting, skin picking, and licking stuff to be stimming). He also said girls like her are excellent as masking and can come off as being “normal,” which is part of why it can be tough to diagnose.

All righty, then.

This has been quite a year for her. She was diagnosed with a rare neurological disorder this year, she has been in speech and occupational therapy all year, and now this. It has been a lot, but I am SO glad we are figuring things out and getting her help. She’ll also start therapies for social skills and helping her learn to cope better (thereby reducing the meltdowns, I hope). The doctor said doing diagnosing her early and adding in those extra therapies now will make a world of difference down the road.

And, oh…remember how BG often acts like she can spell or read a lot? She didn’t hold back for the doctor, who said she tested as reading on a second grade level.

Yeah.

This is long enough, but I have a lot more to say — especially regarding the stuff the diagnosis explains the hell out of — so I’ll tackle that in the coming days/weeks.