She’s a blogger who, well, I’ll leave it to her:
“I do have a blog and have had approximately 47 others. The current one is Concave Bed, Concave Life. I mostly hope to reach people that think that life could not possibly be “normal” when you have kids with issues; and, that ALL kids have issues. Parenting is hard to do well, no matter what.”
The tagline of her blog is: 9 cats 3 boys 1 husband 147 loads of laundry countless stalkers. That should give you an idea of the treat you are now in for. Let’s check out her rolls, and for the record Charles helped and no cats were injured in the process, and any video indicating their slight traumatization has been destroyed, I mean, can’t be proven. Let’s Go!
(3,5) Was there a moment you felt tapped out? What did you do to recover? Or have you?
There have been many times that I felt pushed to my limit. It’s usually not some big crisis. The big stuff, like open heart surgery, you psyche yourself up so much and you just rely on adrenaline to get through it. It’s the minutiae that builds up. It’s the stuff like Charles losing his glasses, again, 14 seconds before the bus arrives. Or, when he drops his brother’s expensive electronic game in the toilet…and flushes. Or, when he decides to give himself a buzz cut and permanent marker tattoos on the morning of picture day; that sort of thing.
I tend to loudly explode, then bounce back, usually laughing, fairly quickly. I find that the ridiculousness is best handled with large doses of laughter. If I take it all too seriously, I spiral and get depressed. Luckily, I don’t get to that point very often. On those rare occasions, I find talking with a good friend who “gets it” is good medicine.
(5,2) People say, “(your child) is lucky to have you” How do you reply? Internally and/or externally.
Internally, I cringe at platitudes. I mean, every kid is lucky to have a halfway decent parent, right? I also wonder if they think my other kids are lucky, as well, or just THAT one. But, I am also kind of judgey and bitchy, so there is that. Externally, I usually say something like “I am lucky to have my kids!” and pray to Lucifer that they don’t have a follow up chestnut, such as “They (kids with Ds) are a gift from God”, because as much as I know they are trying to be nice, it makes me want to puke.
(6,1) From this one word prompt either write or send a picture reply: Push.
Push: People push my buttons. (See above) 🙂
(6,3) What does this number mean to you? Twenty One.
Twenty One has much more meaning when you parent a kid that does not quite fit into societal norms. Twenty One could be the year that Charles finally learns to ride a bike (though, we are working on that, this year!). Twenty One also means that Charles’ birthday will include getting drunk (this is something he is already planning…at not-quite 16…oy.), probably at Hooters, because he really, really likes girls…and hot wings.