Mmmm.

You have to love a great, inexpensive casserole...

...that way, when no one will eat it, you won't mind putting it down the disposal quite as much.

What the heck?! I even told them: it's just chicken, spaghetti noodles, milk, a little cheese. YOU LIKE ALL THESE FOODS. What the heck? Who doesn't like chicken tetrazini? White sauce? Check. Pasta? Check. Cooked chicken? Check. Seriously, people! Oh well.

Aside from my kids rejecting comfort foods, there's nothing going on here. Not much drama at all.

The Girl is stimming like crazy today. I'm about to lose my mind just sitting here. If she's a little droopy, she starts sucking air. It's similar to the sound when you burn your hand. It's an inhaled SHHHHHHHHK noise. And she does it over and over and over, interspersed with a strange hooting noise and the sound of her snapping her head back. Over and over. When she's too awake, it's the same except she's exhaling and whipping her head forward. That's got to be good for her vertebrae.

We've tried six different meds already and none help. Some don't do anything, some knock her unconscious, and some just make her sleepy. Right now, we're using something that makes her sleepy. We upped the dose and gave it to her in the evening, but it doesn't do squat. It must wear off during the night.

The public schools down here start on the 22nd, but we're starting on the 29th with The Husband's university. I've got a new school room setup, and I'm liking it. It's more book cases and a drafting table. (They keep telling me that the incline helps with her handwriting. Frankly, I've never understood why, though our bodies are vertical, the tables are all horizontal. It gives me a crick in my neck thinking about it.) The church had the annual school supply drive and Blessing of the Fleet this weekend. This is the first year that I've gone up with the teachers and kids for it. After three years, I finally feel like a teacher.

I cleaned the house on Friday so I could relax on Saturday. Tragically, The Husband was giving a final exam on Saturday and I had NOTHING to do. I swear. I feel like I worked so hard to get a day off, and it was totally, blindingly boring. It was thunder storming too hard to take the kids out, even if I could have persuaded them to go. It was also my birthday, so that made it just a little worse.

My sister and I share a birthday, a year apart. My mom calls it "Planned Parenthood". Ha ha. Basically, my sister slept through the night for the first time at 3 months old, and I was born 9 months later. The doctor asked my mom, "How about Monday for inducing labor?" and it just turned out to be the same day. To make a long story short, my sister has agreed to be 33 again this year, and I've agreed to be 32. Sounds fair, since I really feel 32 instead of 49. I mean seriously, I expected to feel a lot smarter at 49, but I really don't.

So, we're slowly ramping up for school, dodging lightning, and trying to find something to do. (Did I mention that the ocean temperatures yesterday were measured at 82 degrees? So you know the pool isn't much better.) Maybe we'll just lie in the cool dirt under the porch until November, like any sensible dog.

And in case you're curious, NONE of the birthday cake ended up down the disposal. My kids are quirky, not insane. ;)

To sleep, perchance to dream (about flunking high school!)

Last night I was doing the major-stressing-out thing while trying to get to sleep. This can only mean that I'll be waking up with the failing-high-school dream. AGAIN. (Monday night, I actually dreamed that I was registering The Boy for high school, but somehow they thought I was going as well. I missed the first day of classes, and they gave me a suspension. I wasn't even trying to attend!! And why can't I at least flunk out of college? HUH?!)

What to do? Okay, I'll just think of something I can't worry about. Ready?

Falling leaves. Mmm. Just falling anywhere they... Damn, that stupid dead maple tree is still in the ground next to the... Damn, I still haven't submitted the landscape request to the Homeowners' Association. Oh wait.

Butterflies. Mmm. Flitting around... I wonder if the pesticides that the lawn guys put on the house are killing all the butterflies. We sure haven't seen many this... Oh wait.

Chocolate. Mmm. Of course, chocolate is fattening. I wonder if I'm still under 195 pounds. That weight I lost last year is coming back fast. Oh damn, I wonder if it'll cause my pancreas to... I was supposed to make The Boy a lesson on diabetes/insulin so he'll stop eating pop tarts. But I already looked and found nothing good... Oh wait.

Dingos. "The dingos ate my baby!" That won't work.

Kittens. How cute. Yet, how many are euthanized every... Damn, the cat was shaking its head again today, and probably needs to go to the vet. I wonder how long until its next appointment anyway. How am I supposed to know... Damn. And I can't put those drops in her ears. The vet'll just have to figure something else out. I wonder if I flossed enough to fool the dentist tomorrow?

Solar energy. I wonder if the solar hot water heater is hail resistant. Or covered by insurance. Was I supposed to tell the insurance company? Remember that time they left a nail hole and the water leaked... I really should get those light tubes put in the living room. And get a new couch. I wonder how much is in the "emergency fund" or if there'll be any of The Husband's summer school pay left over after the dust settles. When do the CD's mature, so I can get another on the same schedule? Was it September first? And the frickin life insurance comes due then, too. I need to call TIAA-CREF and get life insurance through them. But I should lose 25 pounds before I do that -- no need to show up overweight. When was the last time I checked with Merrill-Lynch on the contents of my Roth IRA? The stock market. Oy vey. And The Boy wants to go Up North again for Christmas, but it's so expensive to get all those clothes just for one visit, even if we only to to NC. We're supposed to go Up North in the summer because everyone'll be on vacation. But we'll have to find a place to stay. I wonder what that'll cost. But not the same place as last time because the floors were like ice. And why can't The Husband teach Summer A next year so we can go on vacation in August instead of May? It's too frickin' cold up there in May. God forbid we just sit around again like this year. Of course, we did have a vacation in May this year to his family reunion. Damn, I was supposed to send the picture of the four of us to his sibs. I could just post it on facebook, but then I'll be targeted by white slave dealers. Isn't that situation in the horn of Africa horrible? But the kids are so beautiful! They really are. When was the last time The Girl ate anything that wasn't a fruit or fat-based? I mean, really, she can't live on bacon fat and blueberries. Can she?

This just isn't where I need to be. Is there anything I can think about that I cannot possibly worry about?

Sunshine. I wonder how I get an appointment to see the dermatologist about this itch on my arm. I've been keeping cream on it forever and telling the GP that I'm going to the dermatologist, but I don't. I wonder what it is. He'll just say it's stress-related and use the cream, right? But unless I do, I'll have to tell the GP that I'm a loser again. Besides, if I go I can get checked for skin cancer, because I got so many bad burns as a kid. I mean who knew...

Moonlight? Lesson plan not done. And why, why can't I visualize the moon phases. I know that if it rises in the evening, it's full, but that's about all. I never could understand orbital mechanics. Why is that?

Is there anything in the universe that's not all about me?

Religion? When is the church going to teach catechism classes for kids? No one else is home-tutoring theirs, so we're raising a generation of liturgically illiterate kids? I could get some kind of book or something. Maybe from the Lutherans, but I'm not sure if I can teach it convincingly. Noah and all that?

The rotation of the Earth? We're rotating around toward the sun again, and I have got to get some sleep!

Maybe I should take up yoga. The Consumer Reports claims that it cures absolutely everything -- because according to that Nature episode on stress, I'm a goner. I think our Wii does yoga, but I think getting the heck away from the kids for a while would be nice. I wonder if my parents are getting me a spa morning and lunch with my husband for my birthday again this year. That was nice.

Hey, I had to wear capris today, and they felt weird on my knees. That's a sure sign that summer's gone on too long. But at least tropical storm Emily is falling apart. For now. There's a sixty percent chance it'll re-form. But The Husband doesn't think so. I really should empty out the garage so we can get the cars in for the next hurricane. I wonder if I still have all the wing nuts for the hurricane shutters. Yeah, I think they're in the candy cabinet, next to the cookie cutters. You know that my metal cookie cutters are rusting? Yeah, I have 200 cookie cutters that I NEVER use, but I'm unhappy that they're rusting. I need to declutter. Hey, my new bookcase came out pretty well, considering that the lumber I used is warped and the joints don't meet perfectly. I mean seriously, I'm going to fill it with books anyway. In about three more weeks when the paint cures. I need to find something to put on the back of the bookcase because it's butt-ugly and faces the foyer. Maybe a kind of cloth or something? Damn, I need to buy some mesh to make more laundry bags because ours are getting ratty. I wonder who sells it. I really should hang The Girl's swing in her room. I think between glow sticks and a wander through the roof joists I could do it. In this heat? Sheesh.

I wonder if global warming (excuse me, climate change) is real. Seriously, my crazy brother keeps sending me links to that quackery web site. He still doesn't have his little girl in physical therapy. I wonder what he does all day if he doesn't do anything I would consider to be a house-husband's job. I need to clean my bedroom. I wonder where the beach towels and swim suits belong, other than the end of my dresser. I mean, it works pretty well there, but the view of it from the next room isn't very tidy. Man, I'd love to get a new closet built right there with some extra storage above it. I think it would cost about $500, but so would the paving stones next to the driveway. Why don't I have any hippie friends who want to help me do this kind of home improvement? Why don't I have friends? Damn, I wonder how Patrick's buddy Austin is doing. I should email his mom and make a playdate. My poor child. I mean, everyone says that homeschoolers have more friends than public schoolers because you really only make friends out of school anyway, but the kids down the street from us would eat my son alive. How on Earth am I going to get him to stay on a regular schedule and do school work this year? I always have to be the adult, and he always plays at being the French resistance. Like it's our job or something.

At least the... snxxx. (Then I wake up six hours later in a cold sweat because I can't remember my locker combination. My middle school locker combination.)

A sign of the Apocalypse...

...and in church, none the less!

I swear, on all that is holy, that I actually saw a woman in church in her swimsuit yesterday. No, not under a beach cover-up either. The woman was wearing an actual swimsuit in an actual Episcopalian church.

At first I thought, how tacky to wear a spandex halter top in church. Then I noticed the black spandex miniskirt with the slits in the side. My second thought was, tennis? Then it hit me. Swimsuit. In. Church. Midriff showing, love handles oozing around inside the skirt and over the top, back fat squeezing out of the halter top. But it technically was a top and skirt, right? No one will notice, right?

RUN! HIDE! THE HORSEMEN CAN'T BE FAR BEHIND!

And you know the scary thing? She really didn't stand out that much.

Almost there!!

I'm almost there! ("Push honey! Push!") Yup, my homeschool portfolios are almost finished for the year. Whew.

In Florida, we have a few different ways to certify our homeschooled kids as having received an education. We can have our portfolio reviewed and certified as showing that our child has "made progress commensurate with ability". We can have them take standardized tests and submit the results. We can have them take (and pass) the FCAT. Any way we choose to do it, we must make a portfolio and keep it for several years. (I'm not sure how many, but it's longer than I've been homeschooling!)

Portfolio means something different to different people. I always write about a ten-page summary of the school year and their accomplishments, broken out by subject. (I know, I know -- all educational fields overlap and we must integrate their learning. Blah, blah, blah. Just do it, dummy!) Then I pull out a sample day's work for each subject from each month. That comes to six subjects times nine months, times three or four pages each, or almost a half-ream of paper. Ick.

It's supposed to give me (and the reviewer and the state) a neat picture of the progression of skills, and I suppose it does. But I'm sick of doing it. My poor scanner and printer are, too. I feel like it deserves a margarita once we're finished. Or an oil bath. Whatever scanners like.

I can't wait...

It's child abuse...

My kids are abusing me -- I haven't slept in weeks. Are my kids newborns? No, not even close. They're just trying to kill me.

The Boy is a night owl, like me. Left to his own devices, he stays up as long as he's physically capable, plus a half hour. Then he tries to sleep all day. Yesterday I got him up at 9:30, 10:00, 10:15, and finally succeeded at 11:15. He stayed up until at least 1:00 this morning, which is when I fell unconscious.

Why, you ask, would I allow a child to stay up that late? After all, he's only 11.

I like to have a half-hour to myself before I go to bed, just to unwind and have an independent, complete thought. So, I curl up with the laptop and The Boy annoys me until I give up, somewhere around 1:00.

Then, The Girl (my morning child) wakes up at 6:00 the next morning. This morning, I got up at 6:00 to help her change her "girl sticker", medicate her, and go back to bed. The Husband goes off to work at 7:30, and I stagger out around 8:30. The Boy is unwakeable (is that a word?), and it starts all over again. By dinnertime, I'm just about to collapse on the floor.

Today, I say, "No more." Here's the plan. You have to tell me if I'm crazy.

6:00 is dinner.
6:30 is cleaning up and watching the news.
8:00 is The Boy's shower and The Girl's walk and shower.
9:00 is reading with The Boy. (The Girl puts herself to bed around 9:30.)
10:00 is The Boy's snack and brushing teeth and The Girl's tuck-in.
10:30 is The Boy's bedroom time and my quiet time.
11:00 is LIGHTS OUT.

At 11:00, I swear on all that is holy, I'm turning the lights off, even if I have to throw the circuit breaker.

So, now the question to you all is -- what is the penalty for breaking the "lights out and don't leave this room unless you're vomiting or bleeding" rule? (Death? Please say death or dismemberment...)

Window screens and growing up -- a Friday mix

I just had a radical thought. Those screens on the windows are really obstructing my view of the hummingbirds? Why don't I take those down? Seriously, no one in her right mind is going to be opening those windows for at least four months -- live it up! Talk about this being our stuck-inside-with-crazy-kids season, eh? Instead of going skiing/sledding, we just go to the pool/beach instead. Otherwise, it's the same. That grocery store parking lot? BRUTAL. See?

In other news, The Boy is progressing nicely into tween-hood. He walked past me last week and asked, "What the heck is that in your hair?" "It's a plastic butterfly hair tie I found. I thought it was cute." "Please don't wear that -- it looks dumb." Yayy!!

See, raising kids on the autism spectrum really backward. Our kids learn to lie? Yayy! Our kids tell us we look dorky? Yayy! They want to do everything for themselves? Yayy! They get greedy and want to do all the chores? Yayy!

Lying is a very complex social skill. Self awareness is a hard concept to develop. Self-reliance is a sign of maturity. Financial planning, ditto.

So, when you start to complain about your kid being snarky, remember -- it's a part of growing up. And that's a good thing.

Oh sure, it's hot here, but...

Okay, I caught some grief for yesterday's post. Sure, "only 91 degrees" isn't so bad until you consider that I don't have to check the forecast again until, oh, November -- cause it ain't gonna change. Day after day of "heat index 101" will wear a gal down. There's something about our sun angle that makes "91 in the shade" kind of irrelevant.


Don't get me wrong. We can't top 110 degrees. But you all will have crispy fall leaves by October. Us, not so much. We'll be swatting killer spiders with the Fall L.L.Bean catalog long before we have to break down and wear socks.

And the high in Washington, DC for Saturday? 84 degrees.

Now, Tulsa? That's a different story. Just give up now. Move to Alaska. I always wondered who came to the Florida beaches in the dead of summer. Now I know. You people are crazy.

Tulsa Oklahoma:


We'll leave the light on for you...