Thanks Irish!
That's fucking funny right there.
Showing posts with label wiserangel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wiserangel. Show all posts
Friday, May 24, 2013
Thursday, May 23, 2013
IT'S DONE!!!!!!
Got the final piece of the Canada immigration puzzle in the mail yesterday. It took Texas 5 days, New Mexico 8 days, the US government? 5 weeks. Your tax dollars at work, ladies and gentlemen. Not to mention we had to PAY an additional sum for the tax paid workers to do their work.
Anywhoo, put the spit and polish on hubby's Application for Criminal Rehabilitation (for a 26-year-old DUI and a 14-year-old DUI that was reduced to a reckless endangerment misdemeanor), added the FBI report, the states' reports, the mea culpas, 12 full-color 8x10s of hubby self-flagellating with a cat-o'-9-tails, photocopy of his passport photo (snicker), and $200Canadian, and overnight/armed guard/signature required mailed it to the Canadian Embassy in Los Angeles.
It's now in the hands of the sweet, kind, brilliant, charming, lovely, forgiving Canadian embassy underlings. Bless their hearts.
Anywhoo, put the spit and polish on hubby's Application for Criminal Rehabilitation (for a 26-year-old DUI and a 14-year-old DUI that was reduced to a reckless endangerment misdemeanor), added the FBI report, the states' reports, the mea culpas, 12 full-color 8x10s of hubby self-flagellating with a cat-o'-9-tails, photocopy of his passport photo (snicker), and $200Canadian, and overnight/armed guard/signature required mailed it to the Canadian Embassy in Los Angeles.
It's now in the hands of the sweet, kind, brilliant, charming, lovely, forgiving Canadian embassy underlings. Bless their hearts.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Fascinating and frightening
I'm torn. Deep down, I'm a weather geek. I'm a certified storm spotter for our area. I know clouds, cloud formations, barometric pressure, relative humidity, and all the ingredients for a good storm. I'm the freak that will sit out on the deck and watch a storm for signs of rotation while the sirens are going off. I can afford the cavalier attitude because, when our school district built new schools a couple of years ago, the provided for F-5 storm shelters on campus. And I had an above-ground EF-5 shelter installed in the backyard. When it gets hairy, I know we're covered.
But until then, I'd be like this man who caught the birth of yesterday's EF-4 tornado in Moore, OK. Notice how it tentatively reaches for the ground, lightly touching before retreating, until it finally takes a good bite and grows. And grows and grows and grows. The sheer size compared to the buildings on the ground is breathtaking. The flashes as it eats power lines and transformers is mesmerizing.
All of the lives lost and changed, all of the grief and tragedy, all of the pain of picking up and rebuilding, touches me; and yet, I'm fascinated by the funnel. I find a type of horrible beauty in the destructive power.
I have tried repeatedly to embed the video, but the code gets hijacked by some Mexican guy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XMF22_MEMJU
But until then, I'd be like this man who caught the birth of yesterday's EF-4 tornado in Moore, OK. Notice how it tentatively reaches for the ground, lightly touching before retreating, until it finally takes a good bite and grows. And grows and grows and grows. The sheer size compared to the buildings on the ground is breathtaking. The flashes as it eats power lines and transformers is mesmerizing.
All of the lives lost and changed, all of the grief and tragedy, all of the pain of picking up and rebuilding, touches me; and yet, I'm fascinated by the funnel. I find a type of horrible beauty in the destructive power.
I have tried repeatedly to embed the video, but the code gets hijacked by some Mexican guy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XMF22_MEMJU
Monday, May 20, 2013
Happy Monday!
Today is the Teen Queen's FINAL custody hearing. Going to be busy, but I'll try to check in now and then. Y'all be good, play nice, don't do anything I wouldn't do.
Hugs,
Angel
Hugs,
Angel
Wow. That was fast.
15 minutes and I'm the Teen Queen's mom
in perpetuity.
Now I need a nap.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
The Rebirth of Warrior Angel
For the last couple of months, I've been slowly giving up. On everything. This is the danger one faces when indulging in fantasies instead of embracing reality. I'm ashamed I got trapped by it. I let FairytaleAngel out to play and she went bat-shit crazy, dreaming dreams and expecting Happily Ever Afters with Prince Charming. Silly little bitch. And while she took over, WarriorAngel took a leave of absence. So when the dreams started showing holes, and Reality bitch-slapped me, I started sliding. I stopped caring, stopped working out, stopped prepping, stopped planning, just stopped. A particularly brutal Mother's Day weekend, and I was done. I was ready to lay down and let the darkness roll over me. Why prepare to fight the Coming Storm when there's nothing good to fight for?
Last week found me going through the motions, chatting with friends, posting, everyday chores in a daze. When you feel too much, the soul's natural response is to shut off and feel nothing, armor against more heartache. When you get that low, the choice is to quit for good or fight. I just didn't want to fight anymore. And then Friday, nothing will pull you out of a black funk like your child writhing on the floor in pain. WarriorAngel wasn't done yet.
While FairytaleAngel has been sitting on the couch in her Snuggie, eating bonbons and watching Bridget Jones' Diary, WarriorAngel has been kicking my ass. We decided FTA needs to go; not only is she not pulling her weight, she's dragging me down. So she and her fairy tales, her Prince Charming and her Happily Ever After have been stuffed in a box, wrapped with multiple layers of duct tape and shoved in the black hole that is my psychological junk closet.
And then WarriorAngel proceeded to kick my sappy ass with the 90 minute WarriorAngel Basic Training.
3 15-minute miles at 4.0 incline
3 sets of 15:
crunches
push-ups
squats
bicycles
20-minute yoga cool-down
Who needs romance when you have endorphins? Next, back to a regular range schedule and back to looking for a private Krav Maga instructor who can take me before the Second Coming.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Friday, May 17, 2013
The WarriorAngel Legacy
It has been an eventful couple of days, so excuse my grammar and spelling mistakes. Just need to get this down while my brain is still firing.
Yesterday morning, before I could get them loaded up for school, the BabyQueen fell and dislocated her right kneecap. Cringeworthy as this is, it's not uncommon. It's so common that a year ago I learned how to reduce the dislocation. By myself. So she got reduced and convinced me she needed the day off. Right.
Today was the 6-month check up with their autism specialist and pediatrician. I love the Habersangs. Dr. H is the pedi, and his wife, Pia, is the PA autism specialist. Both amazingly brilliant and sweet people, and the chicklets love them. So we have our little meeting with Pia, discuss the girls' weight gain and reset their diets, all vitals are good, and everybody is happy. She talks to me about the custody hearing coming up and asks me how I'm coping. Then she hands me a manila folder with a sheath of papers thicker than wirecutter's FBI profile. This is her thing; she loves to give me homework because I'm "one of those parents", you know the one's who thrive on autism research. This one looks pretty promising, started by a high-functioning Autistic from Dallas who's an engineer. The focus is more brain physiology and chemistry than psychology and behavioral therapy, and there's a chance at getting the girls into the research group. Yeah, parents of autistic kids kind of turn into science geeks and mad scientists; anything that might help, we're willing to explore.
And then we're done. On the way to reception, Pia asks about BQ's knee brace, we chuckle that it's more of an ankle bracelet, she keeps pushing it down. NEVER laugh about a knee brace, or any other brace. So we get checked out, co-pay x two, appointments x two, school excuse notes x two, and we head out the door. Two steps into the hallway, and I watch in slow-motion as the BQ goes down and I KNOW. She's up against the wall on her side, fetal position, both hands on her knee, keening. I'm on my knees in seconds, don't remember what I do with the purse and papers, and I'm trying to get her positioned on her back so I can straighten her leg and get the kneecap that's bulging on the outside of her leg back in place.
A keening child tends to draw attention, did you know that? Within minutes, I have a hysterical Spanish-speaking mom with stair step kids wailing in harmony with BQ. Then the office door opens and Fainting Vegan mom takes one look at BQ's knee and goes down. Dead faint, I heard her head bounce; sorry, not my problem. The elevator door chimes and out comes "Oh God, Oh Sweet Jesus" black mom dragging an older boy in her wake. She keeps calling God and trying to touch BQ. Anyone who knows an Autistic child knows this is a no-no. BQ is tensing up more from all the commotion and I'm about to deck "Oh God" mom when Teen Queen gently takes her hand and says, "She doesn't like being touched, let my mom work." Bless you TQ, she positions herself as guard between chaos and her baby sister. Nurses come out and I lose track of who's where for a while.
Focused on BQ, I get her rolled over on her back and hand her aTootsie Pop to get her hands off her knee. Perfect distraction, I take her leg in my right hand with my left thumb on her errant kneecap. Straighten, push, PLOOP. Done. Really, if you've ever put a kneecap back, it feels like it goes "ploop". And anyone who's ever dislocated anything, you know the dislocation hurts, the reduction hurts worse, and then the pain subsides. So, finished with the hard part, I realize it's very quiet and we're alone in the hallway. The nurses must have tended Fainting Vegan mom, Hysterical Hispanic mom, and "Oh Sweet Jesus" mom and herded them and their kids into the office. BQ is recovering, TQ is still standing guard, and I'm trying to breathe when I feel Dr. H's hand on my head. Gentle tug on my hair, "Good girl," and he goes back in the office.
TQ and I help our BQ up and we walk down the hall to the elevator, TQ says, "I think she's okay, but she really needs some McDonald's." Yeah, I think we could all use some MickeyD's right now. Riding the elevator down, I'm still shocked that I can do that. I've done it several times now, different places, different circumstances, but I do it. Must be WarriorAngel.
And then I look at my cute chicks and realize, I've managed to raise two more WarriorAngels.
Yesterday morning, before I could get them loaded up for school, the BabyQueen fell and dislocated her right kneecap. Cringeworthy as this is, it's not uncommon. It's so common that a year ago I learned how to reduce the dislocation. By myself. So she got reduced and convinced me she needed the day off. Right.
Today was the 6-month check up with their autism specialist and pediatrician. I love the Habersangs. Dr. H is the pedi, and his wife, Pia, is the PA autism specialist. Both amazingly brilliant and sweet people, and the chicklets love them. So we have our little meeting with Pia, discuss the girls' weight gain and reset their diets, all vitals are good, and everybody is happy. She talks to me about the custody hearing coming up and asks me how I'm coping. Then she hands me a manila folder with a sheath of papers thicker than wirecutter's FBI profile. This is her thing; she loves to give me homework because I'm "one of those parents", you know the one's who thrive on autism research. This one looks pretty promising, started by a high-functioning Autistic from Dallas who's an engineer. The focus is more brain physiology and chemistry than psychology and behavioral therapy, and there's a chance at getting the girls into the research group. Yeah, parents of autistic kids kind of turn into science geeks and mad scientists; anything that might help, we're willing to explore.
And then we're done. On the way to reception, Pia asks about BQ's knee brace, we chuckle that it's more of an ankle bracelet, she keeps pushing it down. NEVER laugh about a knee brace, or any other brace. So we get checked out, co-pay x two, appointments x two, school excuse notes x two, and we head out the door. Two steps into the hallway, and I watch in slow-motion as the BQ goes down and I KNOW. She's up against the wall on her side, fetal position, both hands on her knee, keening. I'm on my knees in seconds, don't remember what I do with the purse and papers, and I'm trying to get her positioned on her back so I can straighten her leg and get the kneecap that's bulging on the outside of her leg back in place.
A keening child tends to draw attention, did you know that? Within minutes, I have a hysterical Spanish-speaking mom with stair step kids wailing in harmony with BQ. Then the office door opens and Fainting Vegan mom takes one look at BQ's knee and goes down. Dead faint, I heard her head bounce; sorry, not my problem. The elevator door chimes and out comes "Oh God, Oh Sweet Jesus" black mom dragging an older boy in her wake. She keeps calling God and trying to touch BQ. Anyone who knows an Autistic child knows this is a no-no. BQ is tensing up more from all the commotion and I'm about to deck "Oh God" mom when Teen Queen gently takes her hand and says, "She doesn't like being touched, let my mom work." Bless you TQ, she positions herself as guard between chaos and her baby sister. Nurses come out and I lose track of who's where for a while.
Focused on BQ, I get her rolled over on her back and hand her aTootsie Pop to get her hands off her knee. Perfect distraction, I take her leg in my right hand with my left thumb on her errant kneecap. Straighten, push, PLOOP. Done. Really, if you've ever put a kneecap back, it feels like it goes "ploop". And anyone who's ever dislocated anything, you know the dislocation hurts, the reduction hurts worse, and then the pain subsides. So, finished with the hard part, I realize it's very quiet and we're alone in the hallway. The nurses must have tended Fainting Vegan mom, Hysterical Hispanic mom, and "Oh Sweet Jesus" mom and herded them and their kids into the office. BQ is recovering, TQ is still standing guard, and I'm trying to breathe when I feel Dr. H's hand on my head. Gentle tug on my hair, "Good girl," and he goes back in the office.
TQ and I help our BQ up and we walk down the hall to the elevator, TQ says, "I think she's okay, but she really needs some McDonald's." Yeah, I think we could all use some MickeyD's right now. Riding the elevator down, I'm still shocked that I can do that. I've done it several times now, different places, different circumstances, but I do it. Must be WarriorAngel.
And then I look at my cute chicks and realize, I've managed to raise two more WarriorAngels.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
I don't have a clue
I logged in at noon, had some emails and a couple of comments. Answered the emails and posted the comments, and then......BOOM. Now no comments are coming through and no emails. I've contacted AOL, they said they're working on it.
So no, I haven't blacklisted, blocked or bounced anybody. I'm just as shocked and confused as you are.
So no, I haven't blacklisted, blocked or bounced anybody. I'm just as shocked and confused as you are.
Update:
Apparently an emotionally-unstable redheaded hissy fit
works wonders with Tech Support.
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