"Love is a battlefield"

He comes charging in the door after school. "I'm starving!"
"What do you want?" I ask tentatively, testing his mood. "Something. I don't know. What do we have?" "Braden, you know what we have. You want an omelet or some chicken nuggets?" (his two usual after school favorites). "I don't know. I'm starving, but I don't know what I want. Tell me everything." Not this again, I think. A lot of times I have to list every possible thing he could eat that I have in the house. I hate this. I go to the pantry and call off some things. I do the same at the frig and freezer. I have to resay them several times while he's yelling that he's hungry. Starving to death even. He thinks he is. After about fifteen minutes, he decides on a ham and cheese omelet. I make it. He eats about four bites. Crisis #1 averted.
"How was your day? Do you have a lot of homework?" "It sucked. Yeah, I have tons. Will you help me with my Social Studies. We have to do an outline. I'll tell you what to put, if you'll type it for me." "I'll do that, but you have to do the rest on your own." "Yeah, right," he responds.
He plays on the computer for about a half an hour, then talks to some friends on the phone. A couple of times I interrupt to remind him of his homework. I'm constantly watching my tone of voice when I talk to him. I'm always trying to make things easier for him. Anything to avoid a meltdown. Then, while I'm practically kissing his ass, I get pissed off. Mad that I have to do this. Mad that I'm willing to do this. I'm like a battered wife, afraid of the drunk husband. But, it's just my 70 pound 13 year old.
After about an hour, I start making supper. He wants me to type his outline, NOW. I tell him to wait until after dinner. "Why don't you start your other stuff while I'm cooking?" I suggest. "No. I have to do my outline first, and you have to help me." I start to boil inside. But on the outside, I try to persuade him that my way makes the most sense. It infuriates him. He knows I'm right, and that kills him. I'm making supper while he starts swearing. At first, just swearing, then swearing at me. Calling me names. "Fucking retard. You probably don't even know how to do an outline. You're probably going to burn supper, anyway so just stop cooking and help me."
I can't be nice anymore. I have to keep being nice. He gets nastier and nastier. "I need help with my homework, you fucking whore."
I start to blow. "Braden. All day long, everyday, I do whatever I can for you. I wake you up in the morning, I bring you orange juice in bed, for christs sake. I drive you to the bus stop. I get you a snack after school. I help you with your homework. I let you have friends over. I take you to friends' houses. I give you money so you can go bowling with your friends. I don't tell you "no" as often as I should so you don't lose it. I kiss your ass day in and day out, to avoid your meltdowns, and you know what? You lose it anyway. So, I'm done."
"Oh yeah. We'll see who's done." He charges me. Shoving me. Not too hard at first. But, when I don't react, he pushes with more force. Sometimes, nearly knocking me off balance. "You think I like this? You're the one who's getting me going. You're egging me on."
"No Braden, I'm not. I'm just done working so hard to avoid it." But, even as I say it, I know I'm lying. I'm not done. I'm just done for right now. I'll do it again tomorrow. Hell, I'll probably even do it again tonight.
He starts throwing things at me. His soda bottle lid. A crumbled napkin. I try to ignore him. I start filling out an insurance form. He insists he needs the pen I'm using. I hand it to him, and get another one. Now he needs that pen. I tell him that if he gives me back my original pen, he can have this one. But, he's not having both. He tries to wrestle it out of my hands. I put the pen under my butt, and he can't figure out where it is. Already he's not thinking straight. "Where the hell is my fucking pen? What the fuck did you do with it, you bitch?" He tries to push me off the chair. He tries to tip it over. He goes to the pen jar and starts throwing pens at me. I get up and walk over to the stove where supper is cooking. While I'm standing there, doing something other than paying attention to him, he demands my attention. "Look at me while I talk to you. Stop ignoring me!" I continue at the stove, hoping that Keith stays in the living room. These episodes don't usually last as long when it's just me. But, once Keith gets involved, they get more fierce and drawn out. He starts shoving me again. Throwing things at the stove. "I need you to help me! I can't calm down! Do something!" I'm crying. He's crying. "I don't know what to do, Braden. I don't know how to help. Try to take deep breaths." "That doesn't fucking work, and you know it! Why are you trying to make this worse? You're supposed to be the mom. Make it stop!" "I don't know how," I repeat. "I don't know how."
He gets quiet for a minute. Maybe it's over. Maybe it's passed, I hope. I know it isn't, but I don't stop hoping. Suddenly, he's in the room, after Keith. Hitting him. Kicking him. Punching him. Keith, of course, can't be calm. He can't not react. They start arguing with eachother. Telling eachother who's boss, when they're both wrong. This goes on for a little while. "If you hit me one more time, I'll knock you through a wall." "C'mon, dad, you pussy. You won't touch me." Really, that's what Braden wants. He wants Keith's reaction. It's fuel to his fire. Keith tries to restrain Braden, but as soon as he does, Braden cries that he can't breathe, or that it makes it worse, so Keith lets go. As soon as he's free, Braden charges him again. This happens again and again. I try to bait him into coming back into the kitchen with me. "C'mon Braden. Let's get started on that homework." or "Supper's almost done. You want to get the dishes for me?" Neither one of them works.
Finally, after about fifteen minutes, or is it three hours, he comes back into the kitchen. I'm dishing out supper for him and Keith. I have no appetitie. "Aren't you eating? Why aren't you eating? Is it because of me?" he asks, crying. "I'm just not hungry. I'll eat later." "You have to come to the table though and sit with us while we eat. We have to be together." I agree. I sit there while he eats his supper, and Keith his. I'm simmering on the inside. Sick of me. As soon as he finishes, he demands that I help him with his homework. "Not until you ask me nicely, and apoligize to me," I require. "No," he says. "Then I'm not helping you," I answer. He starts all over again. "Please help me with my fucking homework. Now. There, I asked you nicely." I tell him that won't cut it. Try again. He does, and it's a little better. "Now you just have to apologize," I say. He refuses, and so do I.
I start cleaning up supper dishes. He goes after Keith again. Even though it's me he's mad at. Even though it's himself he's mad at. I sit at the island, smoking my sixth cigarette in the past half an hour. He comes back in, throwing his school books around, throwing his notebook at me. "I said help me." "I said no." I try to sound calm. Strong but calm. I probably don't. He doesn't say anything for about five minutes, then tries again. He's very sweet when he says, with tears in his eyes, "Please help me with my homework. I need your help." "Braden, I told you I want an apology. You have to say you're sorry." "I already did. You didn't answer me, but I said it." I know he didn't. There's a very slight possibility he did, but I'm almost certain he didn't. But, once again, for the sake of a little peace and quiet, I indulge his charade and agree to help him. While he's sitting by me, reading his Social Studies, he tries to make small talk. He tries to be extra nice. To make up for earlier. After about twenty minutes of outline making, we're almost done. He's playing with the phone in his lap, hitting some buttons over and over and over again. The noise is driving me crazy. I ask him to please stop. He doesn't. I tell him to stop. He doesn't. I tell him I won't help him anymore until he stops, but he does it more. Faster, and closer to me. My head is about to split open, and I'm about to explode out of my skin. Keith hears him not listening to me, and comes in the kitchen and grabs the phone out of his hands. He erupts.
The kicking, punching, hitting, throwing, slamming all start again. Keith's trying to restrain himself, but he can't. I barely can. I go in the room and sit on the sofa, watching this. A grown man sitting in a chair, getting hit repeatedly by a little, skinny kid. It's pathetic, and I feel sick. I'm willing Keith to ignore him. Please don't say anything. Please. I know it goes against everything you believe in, but please don't give him what he wants. I just want it to be over. Whatever it takes.
Keith agrees to give him back the phone, if he finishes his homework. Braden agrees too. Keith hands him the phone, and immediately, Braden starts pushing the damn buttons again. I look at Keith, please ignore him. He does, and soon Braden stops and we're back to homework. He's miserable, but mostly in check. I'm wishing I shot heroin or something, and Lord only knows what Keith is thinking.
Our family show comes on, Prison Break, and we all go into the living room to watch it. Braden goes out of his way during the whole show to be extra nice. Small talk. Little jokes he thinks we'll like. Trying to ask questions about the show, just so we'll talk to him, which we do. We hate ourselves for it, but we do.
We go to bed at 10:00. At 10:45, I realize that even though I feel like I could sleep for a week straight, I can't fall asleep. I come downstairs and make a cup of tea. I light a cigarette. I hear footsteps on the stairs. It's Braden. He comes in the kitchen, "Mom?" "Yeah, Braden." "You okay? Why aren't you in bed?" "I just couldn't sleep," I reassure him, "I thought I'd have a cup of tea, then try again." "It's because of me, isn't it?" He's crying again. "Because of me, you can't even sleep. I'm horrible. You hate me."
I assure him that I don't hate him. I tell him I love him.

"How do you like it, how do you like it....more more more"

You want the nitty-gritty, the way things are really going?

or

Do you want me to pretend everything is fine, like I do all day long?

"Sweet dreams are made of these..."

I've been so tired lately, as I've said before. All I wanted to do yesterday after work was come home and take a little nap.
So, I got home, made Braden a snack, had a cup of tea and went to assume my position on the sofa. Keith came home from work and roused me to sign my paycheck so he could go to the bank. Braden and JJ asked if they could go ride the four-wheeler. At last, peace and quiet.
I just started to doze off, and I heard Keith come in from the bank. A short time later, I heard the door open as Braden walked out, and I heard JJ yell something. Then I heard Braden yell something. Then JJ again, only this time I was able to make out what he said, "THE CAR'S IN THE WOODS!" Thinking I'm dreaming or something I just laid there, until I heard Keith yell, "HOLY CROW!" as he ran out the door.
Apparently, when he came home from the bank, he didn't put the car in park. He got out and it drifted down the driveway, through the yard until it crashed into some small trees at the edge of the woods.
My beautiful car. Less than a year old. All broken in the front. Pieces of the grill are missing, one of the lights is pointing straight up in the air, and the side is all scraped up from being wedged between some trees.
What a mess! Needless to say, I never got my nap.

I'M MARRIED TO AN IDIOT!

If I explained what prompted me to post this, you wouldn't believe it. And, it would make me look bad for having married someone so incredibly inept when it comes to any kind of arguing/discussing/talking skills.

"Whoop, there it is"

We got about a 1/2" of snow during the night, but it froze so we had a two hour delay this morning...sadly, I was already up and showered, so I couldn't go back to bed. At least I got an extra hour without the kids up. Mainly without Braden up.

His meltdowns have gone done to once a week, but they're horrible. He cries the whole time that he's out of control and can't stop, but it's hard to feel sorry for someone who's throwing things at you and pushing and shoving you. Last night, it happened while I was making dinner, and as awful as it sounds, I had visions of hitting him with a frying pan. I wouldn't ever do it, but I can't say I don't think about it. I'm calling his doctor again today.

We refinanced our mortgage, and are going to finish the basement, and add on to the kitchen. Yesterday, we picked out flooring. I'm going with a slate look for the kitchen floor - with oranges and greys and greens in it. We're going to do the basement first though, so it will be closer to spring when we have to knock the wall out in the kitchen. I'm going to try really hard to let Keith make most of the decisions about the decor of the basement...as long as he doesn't turn it into a Nascar shrine or dead-hunted-animal city down there. He and the kids will probably be down there most anyway.

I'd like to go with Spidey for a sleeping vacation. Nothing but lounging around, napping and sleeping. And, I've been having a twingey-pain in my left hip area. Not enough to prevent me from doing anything, but enough to make me uncomfortable. If it doesn't go away in a month or six, I'll go to the doctor and get it checked out.

"cause it feels just like I'm walking on broken glass"

As I may have mentioned, Braden failed his eye exam at school, and needed glasses. We took him for his appointment, picked out the frames, and they came in on Friday. We picked them up yesterday, around 1:00.
Last night he went to the movies, and came out upset. He took his glasses off during the movie (the frame was bothering him). They wound up on the floor, and got stepped on. They're now in three pieces. He didn't even have them for 12 hours.
This has to be some sort of world's record.

I am so tired. All I want to do is sleep for about a week straight. I'm just tired.

The holidays came and went, and I'm no more rested than I was before. We're back to work, since Tuesday. I like going back. I really like my job. I just hate getting up in the morning. It was good to see the kids again, and they all said I was a dork because I said I missed them during the break.

Braden went the entire holiday break without one of his episodes. It was kind of nice. I'm not trying to imply that he was a joy to be around, but there were no major conflicts. He went back to school on Tuesday, and Wednesday night we had a knock-down-drag-out evening. Things were flying, phones had to be hidden. Just when I thought it was safe to bring the knives back out of hiding. Do you think there's a correlation between school and these meltdowns? I do.

I felt so sorry for him last night. He's been growing his hair long for the last year and a half. Keith pesters him constantly to get it cut. I let him alone. I don't really care what he does with his hair-there are more important things to argue over. Anyway, he came home from school on Tuesday and announced that he wanted it cut. We searched online and found a picture of a cut he liked. I wanted to make him an appointment, but he doesn't like going to a salon because they "pull his hair". So, he wanted the neighbor lady to cut it. She used to have her own shop, but now just cuts the hair of friends and family. So, we went over there last night and Braden got a cut. He looks great, but it doesn't look anything like the picture. He hates it and says it looks like a mullet (which it doesn't). I hope school went okay for him today, and that he only got compliments, or he's going to be loaded for bear when he gets home. It's a terrible feeling dreading your own child coming home from school.

JJ's doing very well in school, and is on the basketball team. He doesn't get much playing time, but is sticking the season out. He's made a lot of new friends and is looking forward to going to the regular high school in a couple of weeks.

We're going to add on to our house, and make the kitchen bigger. It's still in the planning stages, but I want it done yesterday.

Oh, and I'm really tired.

"Should old aquaintance be forgot...."

Well, the rush of Christmas is over. Thank God.
As the kids get older, it's just not the same. There are few surprises. The items get big-ticketier, so there are less of them. Keith and I didn't exchange gifts this year, because of the "lost money" fiasco. We did, however, pull off a big surprise. We got Braden and JJ a four-wheeler. Keith had it hidden at the neighbors, and Christmas morning, after the gifts were opened and the kids settled in to play their new video games, he ran over and drove it over. Braden was screaming like that kid on the commercial, and JJ was breathless. That was the highlight of my Christmas.
Braden hasn't had a meltdown in nearly a week, and things have sort of relaxed a bit here. Just a bit, though. He's still extremely miserable, and very easily frustrated, but no yelling, screaming, hitting or kicking. Part of me is thrilled, and the other part is just waiting for it to happen. I hope the second part of me is the one that's disappointed.
For New Year's, we're going to a small party with some friends. It's the people we vacation with every year. The kids all get along, and the adults will sit around and shoot the shit and have a couple of drinks. It should be a good time, and I'm really looking forward to it.
I hope you all had a great Christmas, and wish you a Fabulous New Year's.

I received a Christmas gift today. It's a cute chest filled with treats and snacks. The problem is, I have no idea who it's from. It came UPS, from Overstock.com, but there's no name on it anywhere except mine.

I saw mommy taking valium.....

I can't believe that a week from today is Christmas. Where did the time go? Where did my holiday spirit go?
I still didn't find that $400. So, we had to take money out of the credit union to cover Christmas, and we really had to cut back. I'm not getting Keith anything (except a couple of small things from the kids) and he's not getting me anything. I'm mostly done with shopping. I have to pick up a couple of gift cards for my dad, and something for JJ's brother, Andrew, who will probably be spending Christmas day with us. Nothing is wrapped, though most of the clothes are now in gift boxes. I made my cutout cookies last night and tonight I'm doing chocolate chip. I have to do my cream cheese cookies, oatmeal cookies and those peanut butter ones with the chocolate in the center. I have a stupid paper I have to write by Wednesday for that training I went to a month ago. What else? Oh, my house looks like a train ran through it.
Braden's been having those meltdowns at least once a week. I took him to the doctor, who's experimenting with different doses of his medicine. If that doesn't work, after the first of the year, we are going to try something new. It's such a horrible feeling to feel like you can't be away from home because you're the one who handles these things the best, yet you want nothing more than to be away from him. Then, you feel guilty for wanting to be away from him. I walk around trying to figuratively clear the path for him, so nothing frustrates him too much. Then, I resent having to treat him with kid gloves. Some days I feel like I'm the best mother in the world for dealing with all this, then an hour later I feel like certainly there's something I could have done different so he wouldn't be like this, and surely I'm the worst mother in the world for wanting to get in my car and drive far, far away. If he had leukemia, epilepsy, or some other more physical malady, I wouldn't have to feel like I have to hide this from people. But, could you imagine if word of this got out? He'd probably wind up with no friends, and be the talk of the town. If stress where worth money, I'd be rich. Rich I tell ya, rich!

"Mr. Bigstuff, who do you think you are?"

I don't know who I think I am, but some people's Christmas lights/displays really piss me off. I would like to have a little tablet of tickets made up and go around and put them on people's doors. They would say, "I've seen your Holiday display and:" then one of the following would be checked off:
1. They're absolutely beautiful
2. Nice job
3. You're almost there, keep trying
4. What in the hell are you thinking? You should have your power cut off so no one has to look at this hideous creation

I know it's petty and anal of me, but it really gets on my nerves when people have horrible looking decorations out. Who DO I think I am?

On another note, I've lost a big chunk of my Christmas money. It was sitting on the island in the kitchen, and Keith said, "you better put that somewhere." and I did. I thought I put it in the envelope where I had the rest of the money, but it's not there. I've checked every drawer, cuppyhole, basket and cabinet. I can't find it anywhere. $400. Down the drain. I don't even know how long it's been missing. Could have been for weeks, since I hardly did any shopping yet, I don't really go in that envelope. It could have been stolen, I guess, or I could have misplaced it. Maybe I even threw it away by mistake. There are going to be some sad faces, mainly mine, come Christmas morning.

Here we go

Okay, I'm using Picasa, since I couldn't get them to post the traditional way.

 
  

Here are a couple of pictures....The first one is the new cat, Baxter. It's hard to get a good picture of her, because she's all black and doesn't show up very well. The other picture is Ed, the cat in the Christmas tree. This is the cat that looks like Emma's Nesta, although Ed is obviously much cuter.
Not much else to post right now, I'll update sometime over the weekend. On Saturday we're going to NYC for the day...shopping, eating, sightseeing, etc. I'm sure I'll have something to say after that.

Hmmm, it wouldn't let me download the pictures....I'll have to try again later.

"The cats in the cradle and the silver spoon..."

Those of you who seem to find more to say when things aren't going as well as may be expected will enjoy this post.
As I said in my last post, we do our big Thanksgiving dinner on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. So, I had 22 people coming to eat at my house. I spent all day Friday decorating and cleaning. Saturday I cooked and cleaned some more. Sunday, I was up at the crack of dawn doing yet more cooking and cleaning.
You may recall that we have two cats. Ed and Fat Joe. We got them at the same time from some rescue agency. Ed is very personable and a people person. Fat Joe...not so much. He basically hides in the basement, eats and shits. Every once in a while Braden was able to get Fat Joe to sit with him for ten minutes and be petted. As long as Braden went to the basement.
Sunday morning I went down to feed the cats, and Fat Joe didn't come running. Very unusual. I looked around, and he was just laying there. I didn't think too much of it. But a short time later, I heard him making this very strange meow. I went down, and he was still laying in the same spot, but it looked like he was trying to move, but couldn't. Well, to make a long story short, I had to prepare a dinner for 22 while a cat was in my basement dying, and Braden was a wreck. He kept going down and checking on him, crying.
Fat Joe passed away around 8:00 that night. Braden was inconsolable. He tried to give him mouth to mouth and cpr. He was holding him saying, "Come back Fat Joe." He cried and cried and cried. Then he said, "I'll have to get a new cat now." Through his tears, I told him that we'd go to the SPCA and see what they had. This made Braden feel a little better, and he soon cried himself to sleep.
Monday, we went and walked into the "cat room". We wound up getting this beautiful, black maine coon-type cat. He has the softest fur. He loves to be held and rubbed. It was a miracle we didn't leave with more, because they all looked so needy.

"He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of company D"

Well, the Christmas season is officially here.
We did absolutely nothing for Thanksgiving. We do our big family dinner on Sunday. We used to do Thanksgiving Day with Keith's mom, but since she passed away, we just stay home. Keith, Braden and I went to see Casino Royale. JJ was at his aunt's for the holiday. That night, I drove to Harrisburg to pick up Renee to come and stay for a few days. What's up with her, you might be thinking. Well, I'll tell you. She wants to join the Army. Yes, Renee in the army. She's met with the recruiter twice, taken a couple of tests, and says she's serious about this. When I told my parents her plans, my dad said, "Whose army?"
JJ made the basketball team, so he had to cut his Thanksgiving vacation short. Instead of staying in Philly until Monday, he came home last night. He's doing very well in school, and has moved up several levels and if things keep going this well, he'll be going to regular school just after Christmas.
Braden had a decent week. No real outbursts. Lots of moodiness, though. But, we were able to talk through near-meltdowns and avoid calamity. I've tried to get him to commit to a Christmas list, but it changes daily.
I had planned to do cooking and grocery shopping yesterday, in preperation for feeding the 20 or so people here tomorrow, but it was so nice out, that I decorated for Christmas. All but my tree. I don't remember ever decorating for Christmas without a jacket on. I was actually sweating. I hung all white lights outside, but Keith and the kids are complaining that it needs some color, so I might have to pick up something colorful to put out there.
Well, I'm off to get a shower and go grocery shopping. Then I have to make the make-ahead things for tomorrow.

"Cause you had a bad day, you're taking one down"

I have had the worst week imaginable. Maybe not the worst week imaginable, but a very bad week.
As most of you know, Braden is bi-polar. While there have been, I'll use the word explosions here, because that's what they're like, explosions before, they've been once a month, or every two months, or every three weeks. Good times in between. Calm times in between.
This week, we've had three nights of hell in a row. Tuesday night, he went off over something, and I can't even remember what it was. Something inconsequential. It usually is. Something most of us would be able to shrug off. He gets violent now during his episodes. Throwing things, tipping furniture over, saying he's going to hit Keith or I, threatening to kill himself or run away. Tuesday night's tirade lasted about an hour, but then subsided. The one good thing, as twisted as this sounds, about these episodes is that the days right after, Braden's overcome with this kind of peace. Partly to make up for what happened, and partly because his body feels good to have released it's posion. But that didn't happen this time.
Wednesday night it happened again. But this time it only lasted about twenty minutes, and wasn't nearly as bad as the night before. Just enough to unsettle everyone in the house.
Thursday night was the worst ever. All I did was tell him to call his aunt to ask her how to switch sim cards in a phone before he did it wrong and screwed them up. He went ballistic. And, not spoiled brat ballistic. Just crazy people ballistic. He took a knife and tried to cut himself. He told me I better watch my back because he was going to get me. He kept swinging at me, close enough that I could feel the air swoosh by my face, but not close enough to make contact. With Keith it was a different story. He was punching him and hitting him. We restrained him three times in a 2 1/2 period. The whole time he's crying, "I can't stop. I need to calm down. Make it stop." I thought I was going to have to call the police or an ambulance. And, it's very hard for Keith to stay calm during this. He yells and threatens, adding fuel to the fire. When all was said and done, he was unconsolable.
I talked to his doctor, who thinks it might be a medicine thing, and we've upped the dose of one of them. We've tried to talk to Braden to find out what's going on. He's getting very frustrated with school again this year, and thinks one of his teachers hates him. I know this woman, she had him last year. I think he's imagining it. Also, he's a peanut of a kid. Probably a good six inches shorter, and fifty pounds lighter than his friends/classmates. They're all going through puberty, he isn't yet. He hates that he gets pulled out for learning support english and math, yet he'd flounder in reg ed classes for those subjects. I think that all these frustrations add up all day long, and he holds it in all day. He wouldn't want to have an episode at school in front of his peers or teachers, so he comes home and then the slightest little thing happens, and the floodgates open.
Needless to say, I haven't gotten anything done around the house this week. Dinners have been rushed and thrown together, laundry is stacked up and my part time job has been ignored. We're walking on eggshells. It's really like a battle ground.

"The wheels on the bus go round and round"

Keith was away on a work trip all week, so my week was kind of hectic. Not that I missed him or anything, but I was the one that had to do all the running, picking up of kids, etc. Most nights, we didn't eat dinner until 8:00.
JJ went on a home visit to his aunt's this weekend. We took him to the bus station at 5:30 Friday night, and he didn't get to Philly until after 10:00. Philly is only an hour and a half away. Poor kid. Sitting on a bus with a bunch of strangers all that time. At least he got a seat this time. Last time he went, he had to stand the whole way.
A few weeks ago we bought a used go-kart for the kids. It's a two seater, so Braden and JJ can both ride. We were having a problem getting it started, so we took it to a dealer to be fixed. Finally, we got it back this week. The kids are really enjoying it. They took me for a ride the other night, and they really enjoyed scaring the crap out of me by taking quick corners and dodging trees at the last minute. Then, they drove it right through this huge mud puddle. I was wet up to my waist, mud splattered all over my face, leaves stuck in my hair...I was screaming and laughing at the same time. I probably haven't been muddy in over 30 years. Braden and JJ thought it was hysterical that they got me all wet and dirty.
I went to a surprise 40th birthday party last night, and met a woman who is quite an accomplished seamstress. An accomplished seamstress that's retired, looking for projects to do and has a basement full of fabric. I'm going to have her make me an ottoman cover and some dining chair slip covers. And, maybe I won't stop there.
I'm having a Tastefully Simple party here this afternoon. If you've never been to one, it's all things you'd use to cook/entertain. All food products. Dip mixes, marinades, drinks, etc. I love the stuff. Hopefully a lot of people will order and I'll earn tons of free stuff.
JJ has basketball tryouts this week, and Braden doesn't have anything going. I have a Jewelry party to go to on Thursday night. Other than that, we have a week that should be pretty calm.

"Play that funky music white boy"

I've really got nothing exciting to report, so you can skip this post if you want.

Trick or Treat was Tuesday night. Braden dressed up as a pimp - I wanted to post some pictures, but none of my batteries are charged enough to download from my camera. JJ said he was too old to go (which I agreed with), so he hid on the porch and scared the crap out of kids when they reached for the candy. Also, he inadvertantly scared some of the parents - even though they didn't say anything - I could see the look on their faces, "Oh my God, a black person!"
The first marking period is over, and I'm not sure what JJ's grades are going to be, but Braden is winding up with an A, a C and the rest B's. Not too bad considering he missed a few homework assigments because I refuse to fight with him over them anymore.
JJ has his last football game on Monday, then he gets a week off, then there's basketball tryouts. He's made quite a few friends on the football team and hopefully he'll make even more playing basketball. He said to me the other week, "Miss, I never thought I'd have so many white friends." At one of his football games, he was on the line of scrimmage, and on the other team, right across from him, was a Puerto Rican kid that went to Second Chance with JJ. The kid said, "What are you doing playing ball with all these white boys?" JJ said Nazareth's whole line of scrimmage was lauging so hard, the almost got a flag for moving before they were supposed to (I'm sure there's a football term for that, but I don't have any idea what it would be). Behaviorally, he's doing really well at school, and has moved up to the silver level-if he does good for the next marking period, they'll send him to our regular high school.
Braden's still sticking with scouts, although it's getting harder and harder to keep him interested. There's only a couple of kids his age still in it, and he's always looking for excuses not to go. Last week, he wanted to stay home and study for a test - so you know it's bad.
I have a training for school to go to this week. I'll be out of the building Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. It couldn't come at a worse time, as all the grades and such have to be in this week. I'm on the school's SAP team, and it's an official SAP training, so I have to go. At least I get to sleep a half an hour later.
That's about all I have to offer. Pretty slim pickings.

"The screamin tires, the bustin glass, the painful scream that I heard last"

You know, ever since I saw the first Volkswagon commercial where the two guys are driving along, chatting with eachother and out of nowhere a car comes and crashes into them, my life has changed. I can be watching a tv show, living vicariously through Kate or Joy or Michael, when it shows them in a car. My heart rate starts to increase. My palms get sweaty. God forbid the driver look over at the passenger and start talking. When that happens, I actually have to get up and walk around the room, or sneak into the kitchen for a snack. I'm always expecting a car to come barreling through an intersection and plow into them. It's really awful. Those ads really get to me, and it's ruining my television viewing experience.

It's that time of the year again. I hate when it happens. It's election time. I really am so sickingly tired of the ads these politicians run. They don't have anything good to say, just negative things about their opponents. The only thing I know about any of them, after months of their campaigning, is who they hate. I wish that everyone would refrain from voting for any candidate that ran negative ads. Wouldn't that be something? If on election day, only a handful of people showed up to vote. I'd love it.
You know what else I love? As silly as it sounds, I love when THE SHELL WITH IT shows up at the top of the list. Isn't that ridiculous? But I love it. I really do.
I bought a new $45.00 bra from Victoria Secrets. I love their bras, and I can walk in and buy any 34C and know it's going to fit. But, this time I wanted a non-underwire bra. So, I bought the IPEX one. I hate it. It's bunchy on the sides, and it kind of hurts across my back. What gives VS????