Say I Were An EVIL Villain...

My evil superpower would be the "migraine attack." I didn't disappear for another four days... I'm coming out of another 4ish day migraine. As far as I know a migraine can't kill you (at least I'm still around)- so I wouldn't be a completely evil evil super villain. Just mostly evil.... and annoying.

What would I do? I don't know... Maybe I have a superpower (a secret cool one I used in my sleep) and I use it and don't know it and I get the migraines because my energy is so drained. I don't know what that would be... saving the cheerleader.

Anyway because we love the way INSURANCE works I still have to wait 3 1/2 months before I can see a neurologist, which my family Dr, girly Dr, and chiropractor have said I should do. But I can't right now because they're stupid expensive. INSURANCE won't pay for sh*t for my head or headache medication (yes, that includes my crazy pills I take to prevent these migraine attacks... yes I know it missed this one... it doesn't get them ALL... obviously. ) or anything because of the pre-existing condition.

Speaking of insurance here is my whine- so get your cheese if you have any- and how much I love the way business works. After waiting patiently for 12 months for my pre-existing label to fall off I find out that the husband's place of employment is now requiring the spouse to carry their own insurance if applicable very soon... How is that freaking fair?? I've waited over a YEAR to see a REAL doctor that can actually help me with my head instead of give me another drug that has bad side effects and doesn't work and I only have a 6 month window to do it???

Ugh, that's enough to give me another headache. I should become an alcoholic, too bad that wasn't real wine.

Lesson: Don't think about things that worry you when your nursing a headache. Believe me, it doesn't help.

Comments and Drinking Beer

Okay I know I've had some trouble with the comments on my blog... I'm not sure what the problem is I've screwed around with the settings a few times to try to correct it and have a few blogger friends corresponding with me via my myspace to help me out here. So keep on trying to send me your wonderful (or despising) comments and eventually- they will show up. I tweaked it again tonight... so try again.

Anyway- speaking of comments I'm changing the subject I wanted to share something my daughter was asking. She wanted to know specifically what age a "child" was and if I was a child. Of course I want to tell her I'm a child at heart, but I know she wouldn't get it, because then I'd have to explain maturity and how I'm really immature even though I'm older... So I tell her I'm an adult because a child can't and shouldn't have children (hidden lesson here??) and since I have children I can't be a child.

She says "Yeah my dad is like 29, he's so OLD." Ha ha ha ha, she must have forgotten that she just asked me how old Kirby and I were 3 days ago.

Anyway- If you know my children at all, they are very specific, technical, detail oriented- only when it benefits their point of view. It drives me insane. I get technical right back, maybe that is where they get it from?

I basically tell her this: Gavin is 10, therefore he is a pre-teen and at 13 he will be a teenager until he is 20, but at 18 you are considered an adult, but any teenager is still a child. Again I omit the maturity thing.

Gwyneth is amazed because her teacher's helper is 18 so, completely ignoring all my previous logic she says "MY teacher's helper is 18 so she's an adult."

I say, "She may be an adult, but she's still not old enough to drink beer."

Gwyn, "well duh- you're not even old enough to drink beer!"

Bless her heart, she just carded me!


Lesson: Don't let Gwyn know what is in the bottom drawer in the fridge. Also, don't tell her that wine has alcohol... or long island iced teas.

Blog- worthy terdnado

Kirby told me I haven't made a blog in a while. I think because not much of interest has happened. Well stuff has happened, but nothing blog-worthy.

Well... we did have a tornadoish storm.

Okay, okay tornadoes are blog worthy, but I don't really know what to say about that because while Kirby was out watching the cool hail I was cowered in the pantry with the children (and crabs). Gwyneth was a little freaked out, I had to get stern with her to calm down so I could pay attention to the weather. And the boys reassured her she wouldn't starve because of being in the pantry she started to act a little better (but still scared).

I had to tell them these kinds of storms were usually very fast and we wouldn't be in the pantry long enough to starve.

Of course I had my lap top trying to look at the radar when that started a "would you break your lap top to save your life?" And a "Would you rather keep the T.V. or keep one of the cats?" (they know the answers because they know I'm always too serious). Which of course those questions lead to the string of "would you rathers?" to each other. Of course I can't remember any to share but they are all outlandish and ridiculous. I think one involved poop. Because when there are boys in confined spaces for too long eventually everything will end up with poop, pee, puke, or farting with or without sound effects and profuse laughter.

Gavin can make farting sounds by shrugging his shoulders against his neck. Weird.

So all was safe in our house, but unfortunately the tornado did hit a mobile home in a town about 20 minutes away. No one was killed and there were minor injuries. That got us to thinking of our hasty evacuation process and what we should do next time an emergency pops up. It was good practice. I had thought about it since I moved in this house, but haven't had to put it into action.

Oh and if anyone was wondering a "terdnado" is a waterspout that gets into a sewage plant.

Lesson: Be prepared for quick action and be glad you at least thought ahead, even if you hadn't practiced it.

Have you seen my bond?

So I was helping Gavin with his homework and I made the comment that he'll probably be a rocket scientist when he grows up (he is kind of a nerdy boy) and he's like "I'm not doing that." So I ask, "well what are you going to do then?" He gets that deer in headlight look... The one where he's froze in his seat and on the verge of tears. I really want him to open up to me with out freaking out every time I try to have casual conversation that isn't about wrestling or video games. So I tell him, "you know- you are allowed to change your mind later; even I can still change my mind. It's never set in stone- it's what you want to do at the time."

I can tell he's thinking really hard and the question is stressing him out dreadfully. I break the tension by telling when I was little I really wanted to be a unicorn (my mom even had me thinking I was growing the "corn" on my head because I would bump it on the ceiling when I climed into the top bunk) when I grew up. I had to change plans as I got older, because you don't really see unicorns around these days. He laughed at that and told me he wanted to be in the army.

That is a good start- hey, it's not wresting! Oh, he nixed the video game designer idea because too many of his friends are into that (kudos for going against the flow). I asked what he would do in the army and he said drive a tank and operate the machine gun. So he wants to blow stuff up. Great!

Well at least I got something out of him. I still have some years to talk him into the nerdy scientist. I think there is more more money in that and perhaps he can find a cure to migraines! Of course I'll be over mine by then, but if I can save one more person from what I suffer from now... Okay okay I'll get off my soap box... I have a headache right now though. All right I'm shutting up. Those that know me are SICK of hearing how my head always hurts.

Anyway since his meltdown I have been really trying to reach out and find that bond we once shared. I don't know, maybe it's the pre-teen thing going on, but I'm not ready to let go!

Lesson: If it isn't working one way, find another way to reach your goals.

Stomach grumbles, mean hawks, accidents

Are you ever sitting there and you stomach grumbles really loud and you know it's not because you're hungry? You have to go to the bathroom. But you can't go just yet because it isn't ripe. Your body hasn't given you the green light. So you have to wait and listen to yourself rumble and ramble and make all these "preparation" noises (and hope no one else can hear) but you're being super loud... Yeah you know every one has that problem at one point or another, but no one ever admits it. I don't think loud stomach noises is a quality you should brag about, but it is kind of funny.

So anyway speaking of stomachs we went to Burger King (I'm so sick of that place), but we had a request put in by Josh and Cruz. That is probaby what brought on the said stomach rumbles, that stuff just isn't good for you. So while we were waiting on Josh to play a sparrow flies into the window and is soon chased after by a hawk. Apparently the local hawks also go to Burger King for their meals. I didn't even realize they ate sparrows!

So this weekend I changed my clothes more than a teenager girl (and I have never done that).

Yesterday we went to Sonic (only the best place to get a cheeseburger). The lady didn't have a lid on the cup all the way and I put the drinks in my lap and freezing liquid falls right into my crotch. Ohmigosh. It was sooo cold! I felt like I wet myself with frozen urine. I'm SO glad that we can't actually do that. Not that I've wet myself recently, but I think with it being cold it was so miserable. So on the way home I started to get more comfortable becuause it was getting warmer (due to the miracle of body heat) and it almost didn't feel like someone's drink had spilled into the unknown regions of my body... Then I had to get out of the car. You could see your breath it was so cold. It was only a short walk from the car to the door, but I swear I had ice crystals building in the crotch of my pants. It was quite unpleasant.

Then today I was sitting in only the best chair in the house and had my feet up on the ottoman and Garry (the old man cat) hops up and at first puts his butt on my belly and his head up on my knees. He's been cranky all day, with his cat puke stuff, so I turn him around to pet him and get gets up all uncomfortalbe like- I smell something that is raunchy and it isn't just regular ole cat breath. I smell my shirt and it really seriously stinks! I also see a brownish spot on my jeans. So I call kirby over and have him smell it.

So anyway I change my clothes and get a paper towel with water in lou of a wipe and call the cat over to wipe his butt. Wash my hands and go back to being normal. We had company over and I'm a gamer nerd, so we play some D&D, then painted some on our minis!

Lesson: Sometimes you have to treat your animals like you do children if you want to be sanitary, even if it embarrasses them. Garry went in a room and hasn't come out till about an hour ago.