Auntie's Hideaway

You know, every once in a while, I completely astonish myself.

It's good for me, admittedly, but most definitely surreal.

*chuckles and shakes head, still stunned by it all*

First off, a big Thank You to elfwreck and eeyore9990 who helped the Impertinent Daughter with her algebra homework a couple of nights ago!



In case you're wondering, the AZ stands for "Angry Zangoose", which is her moniker on her DeviantArt account. She got an 88 on the test those questions were on, and said ruefully, "I would have gotten a higher grade, except on that one problem, I had memorized the formula and had the number 27 in my head, so when I worked the problem on the test, I write 27, instead of 47, which was on the test!"

But the important thing is, she understands it now!, so... no worries!

In other news, the Impossible Son is experiencing tummy trouble again, though it seems to be more serious now.

*sigh*

No bullying this time, but he is having anxiety about the TAKS "diagnostics" that they're taking this week. Yes, they take diagnostics to find out where the kids are weakest and see what they need to work on to improve their scores when the real test comes in April.

*sigh*

He went to the school nurse twice on Monday, had to come home on Tuesday and go to the doctor, who palpated his abdomen and said, "Well, he's not constipated, and he's not reacting when I push down and lift on his right side..."

So, we were sent for bloodwork, and his white cell levels are normal.

He stayed home yesterday, and was fine. Till afternoon, when he started complaining about his stomach again, and then by last night...

*sigh*

He didn't eat breakfast this morning, either. So, I proved to him again that he can handle addition and subtraction... and he decided to go to school.

Haven't gotten a phone call yet, so... I'm hoping for the best.

Thing is, it's not general stomach pain. This is very specific. It hurts... behind his belly button. Appendicitis and gall bladder problems run in my family. And on my dad's side, it's stealth appendicitis. My dad complained of vague stomach pain, and didn't want to eat. He never ran a fever or had any nausea, went to the doctor, had blood tests run and all that. Nothing. So, one day, he decides, "Enough lolly-gagging, the house needs painting, and it won't done any faster if I don't start." So, he hauls out the ladder and starts painting. Mom's in the house, and this was before we had air conditioning, so all the windows are open. She hears a groan, then the ladder hits the side of the house, and there's a loud thump. She rushes outside, and Dad has passed out and fallen off the ladder. He never faints, so she knows something's drastically wrong and calls the neighbors to help her get him up and get him to the hospital. The E.R. docs take one look at him and say, "Appendicitis," and get him into surgery just before it bursts. Then there was his dad, who was sitting at the table one morning, drinking his coffee and reading the paper one moment, then rolling on the floor, grabbing his stomach and howling in agony the next. His grandmother, who calmly finished cooking dinner, laying out the table, and making sure everyone was served before saying, "I'm going to see the doctor now," and promptly hitting the floor. Yep, appendicitis.

Is it any wonder I'm worried and waiting for the phone to ring?

What keeps me from freaking out is... he's eating. He's pooping. He's not running a fever. He doesn't complain when you press on his stomach with your hand. He's not rolling on the floor, grabbing his stomach and howling in agony.

What keeps me concerned is... he's complaining consistently that it hurts behind the belly-button (which rules out gall bladder in my mind), he does not like anything pressing against his waist or tummy (like jeans, underwear, passing butterflies), and he's content to curl up on the couch and watch TV or play games on the Wii.

My son likes to watch TV like any other kid, but give him a choice between TV and playing outside, and outside will win every single time. Having him curled up on the couch and not begging to go play outside is... unnatural.

Needless to say, the Husbandly One, the Impertinent Daughter, and I are all watching him like so many hawks. And I can't help but think, today is Thursday... you just know if anything is going to happen... it'll happen this weekend.

*sigh* I've already told the doctor I want a recommendation for a pediatric gastrologist, because I know Mr. Manzie has major acid-reflux as it is. Thanks, Dad, but you know, the tummy problem genes were in that group I wish you'd kept to yourself!

*grumbles*

Look at the Husbandly One's new tattoos!!

His first tattoo had faded badly (the tattooist had too light of a hand) and he has disappeared into the bright blue yonder, so... we went to the place where the Impertinent Daughter had her ears pierced, originally to have his tat touched up. However... we ended up decided to get a NEW version of the portrait tattoo, somewhat larger and on THO's back, and get a coverup tattoo over the original portrait.

He had the portrait done last week, and I had to wait for it to heal a bit before taking a shot of it. It's still a teeny bit red, and still has some flaky skin, but I couldn't wait any longer, so here it is...

( Click to see his tattoos!! )

Miss Priss got her ears pierced today for the very first time. Just her lobes. We found a tattoo/piercing place in San Marcos that we very much liked the feel (and smell) of, and the piercer was a soft-spoken man, very important when it comes to the Impertinent One. While loud people don't bother her like they did when she was small, she still doesn't react well to booming voices in stressful situations, and let's face it, having needles poked into your head is rather stressful when you're 13 years old!

Still and all, she handled it very well. And so did I! *laughs* Considering I have this thing where when I see needles, I tend to pass out, I handled it very well!

The Impertinent Daughter was very nervous, and she was trembling, and she asked me again if it was going to hurt a lot and I said, "A little more than getting your blood drawn, but a lot less than getting your lip waxed!"

That seemed to cinch it.

I held her hand and laid my head on her opposite shoulder while each ear was pierced. This had a two-fold effect. It kept her head still so she didn't jerk or twitch... and it kept me from seeing the needle and fainting, thus freaking out my nervous child! The piercer asked me about it after, and I explained it. He laughed and said I would be surprised how many parents pass out when their kids are having their ears pierced, and it's usually the dads!!

She's very proud of her new earrings and, as usual, she looks very cute! *dies* And she starts 8th grade this year! Ay-yi-yi, time is speeding past!!

The big REVEAL is up at weasley_fest! Go take a look and see who wrote what!!

I'll probably post my own contribution to the fest later.

In the meant time, I'm trying to get my brain back into "home" mode. I even said wistfully to the Husbandly One last night, "You sure we can't slip back to Rockport for just a couple more days?"

*sigh*

So, the Husbandly One got a half-day off, because the person who has the codes to the vault wasn't in today or something, and we decided to trek into San Marcos to see "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince."

( Spoilery bits, if you haven't seen it, don't click!! )

Saying "Wilkie Twycross" out loud makes it sound like one is lisping.

The Impossible Son and I are reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, and when I got to reading the name of the Apparition Instructor out loud, Mr. Manzie snickered.

It was almost as fun as reading On Golden Pond out loud and trying to say "Ethel Thayer." Makes it sound like your front teeth are missing. Or too big, I can't decide.

In other news, I am learning to knit, and it's driving me nuts, though I am slowly getting the hang of it. Mostly, I was having trouble getting used to holding the yarn with my right hand instead of my left, as one does in crochet (and yes, I did try the Continental method, but... nope, didn't work), and also, trying to figure out how to adjust the tension in the yarn. I think I have it... kind of.

My mother is excited about this, and has insisted that once I figure it out, I teach her how to knit, too. I have to admire my mother, wanting to learn to knit at the age of 82. She is all kinds of brave, you know? She's also decided to get back into sewing, because she's tired of wearing slacks and jeans that don't fit. I don't blame her.

This makes me a little nervous, because her eyesight isn't what it used to be, yet at the same time, I do understand. She used to make all our clothes, and I never truly appreciated that until she started working full time, and didn't have time to sew any more. Store bought clothes just don't fit you the way clothes that are sewn specifically for you do. One of Mom's neighbors was a seamstress, and she taught Mom how to tailor clothing in exchange for fresh eggs (my parents kept chickens until Houston zoned them out of the city limits), so all our clothes were well made and fitted exactly to us. I kind of miss that, myself.

Speaking of which, I discovered last week that there is a fabric store in my town! It was a complete surprise. The only "fabric store" we had previously was WalMart, and I absolutely hated buying fabric there, because it was all... crappy. Sometimes, I would find really nice fabric at WalMart, but it was always by accident! However... the WalMart here has closed their fabric department, and barely has a craft department. It's more like a ... craft aisle. Major suckage.

What that meant was if I wanted fabric or yarn, I had to either go to Austin, San Marcos, or San Antonio. More suckage.

Well, when we were doing all the hair cutting last week, I had noticed that a store we liked had moved from their tiny little building to a new and larger building, so I said, "let's go in!" And found that they had a fabric shop in the back corner!! YAY!!!

I have a feeling I will be a very frequent visitor!!! *can see her fabric stash growing beyond reasonable limits*

AND... I have a neighbor who is a seamstress... wonder if I can do a barter exchange with her for tailoring lessons... *feels an odd synchronicity with her mother*

Hee!!

Ever been working on something for months, writing, researching, struggling with it because, dammit, you just know you can make it work, but every attempt seems to just be... wrong. It's stiff, unnatural, refuses to flow no matter how you try to rewrite it, no matter how many different angles you try to approach it from, and your deadline is looming closer and closer, and you start getting desperate, because you don't want to ask for an extension, you know you can do this but... AARRRGGHHH!!!

Then life seems to throw all these obstacles and blocks your way, keeping you from working on it, until finally, it slams into you with all the force of a speeding train... you're writing about the wrong characters. It's not a story about this person... it's a story about those two people. And suddenly, everything flows the way it is supposed to, your fingers are flying across the keyboard, it's so easy to write now, whereas before, it was like trying to slog through mud uphill in a torrential downpour with a 150 pound pack on your back.

Serious, that drives me nuts. And it drives the people around me nuts, too.

I hate being a writer.

But then, sometimes, it just comes so easy, words seem to flow from my fingertips, and I can literally see the story before my eyes, like my own little movie and I'm just taking notes, really. The characters speak to me, leaning over my shoulder and whispering suggestions as I write, making me laugh at highly inappropriate moments when I suddenly realize why a certain thing needs to happen in the process of a story, or almost making me cry when I realize someone has to die and why. Sometimes, I feel like I am just a medium through which the story comes, the conduit that brings it to life on paper, because it can't stay in my head or it hurts, like they're drumming against the inside of my skull, trying to escape, and I can only relieve that pain by writing them out of me, and it feels so good, so good when it all works, when it comes together and it works and I know it works, there it is, see?

I love being a writer.

And this is why the Muggles think writers are crazy. And maybe we are. But who cares, as long as it makes a good story?

Okay, more pic-spam. I was noodling around on Facebook last night, and found that a bunch of my old drum corps buddies had formed a group. This was very cool for me, because I haven't seen or heard from these folks in about a century or two, so... I joined. And I went to the photos page and was stunned to see this...



Okay, after I got over the shock of that SHIRT (omg, did I really wear stuff like that???), and the HEADBAND (I wore that when I wasn't sweating?? Dear gods...), it took me a minute to remember when that was. And I thought, omg, 1983, the year I was drum major, my mohawk had grown out, and I had finally gained some weight after nearly starving myself to death.

Yeah, Auntie was anorexic as a teenager.

It's bizarre to think that about five months before that photo was taken, I weighed a whopping 86 pounds.

*lets y'all get over the shock*

I think I weighed somewhere between 95 to 100 pounds in that photo. Soaking wet. With a heavy purse. And some big clunky shoes.

Is that not a big get-the-damned-camera-outta-my-face-before-I-hurt-you grin? And hello, red hair!! Where did it go?? Because as Chan pointed out during her visit a few months ago, it isn't red now!! *laughs*

Oh well, enjoy another blast from the past!!

Ye gods, where the HELL did I get that shirt???

Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian came out.

The Impertinent Daughter bought it last night with some of her birthday money.

She took it with her to school today to read during her breaks, which means I have to wait until she finishes it to read it myself.

Puckernuts.

*sigh*

And... does everyone have a Dreamwidth but me??? *looks around* How'd that happen??

So today, the Impossible Son's second grade class went to visit Aquarena Springs in San Marcos, Texas.

(Like y'all would ever forget I live in Texas, right?)
( Cut, because there are lots of pictures!! Take a look!! )

So, there I was, about to pop some chicken in the microwave for my lunch... and my phone starts ringing. It's Ms. Teacher calling me, telling me she got my message.

What? No, she had no idea the Impossible Son might be getting bullied! She's never seen anything, except maybe when they're standing in the lunch lines, and then they're only just kind of jumpy, wiggly, and just... acting like little boys!

What? Define acting like little boys? Well, they just can't keep still, can they? They jump, skip, kind of nudge each other, that sort of thing.

The playground? Well, they have a P.E. teacher for P.E., and I haven't been on the recess rotation this semester, I'm helping with testing and tutoring, but the teachers that are outside on the playground haven't reported any problems. Well, wait, I'll take that back. Last week, Mr. Manzie was put in time out for throwing a rock at another little boy. What? My goodness, how did you know, did X's parents say something to you? Oh, you mean X is the one you think is bullying Impossible? Well, I've never seen anything... but then I have 14 kids in my class. It's the biggest second grade class at our school, and it's a little hard to keep my eye on them all. And you know, the girls are so much easier to deal with than the boys!

I don't think I have to go any further, do I? The woman is oblivious, and she has mentioned to me repeatedly all year how overwhelmed she is by fourteen students!! Fourteen!!! Honey, when I was in elementary school, there were sometimes thirty six kids in my class with one teacher... and no teacher aides. And there were never less than thirty two. When I got into middle school, I went to a "magnet" school that boasted about smaller class size, which translated to 24 students to a teacher per class. And she's complaining about 14? Granted, at my son's elementary school, the usual class size is ten to twelve.

And the thing about the rock throwing? That is so unlike my son that I am stunned! What really blows my mind about this is the fact that we had to punish Mr. Manzie for doing the same thing last night. He threw a rock at one of the Fireman and Coffee Lady's kids. This, after the kid in question had been shouting something at him that the Impossible Son refused to discuss, but would get red in the face every time he thought about it, looking toward me with his lips pressed very tightly together before looking back down at his feet. In other words, he had put up with it as long as he could, until he finally snapped and threw a rock. The fact that he threw a rock at the kid who was bullying him doesn't seem to be much of a coincidence now.

The thing is, the Impossible Son is such an incredibly laid-back little guy. Stuff usually rolls off his back like water off a duck... but he can get his feelings hurt, and when it happens... he just wilts. He goes off to be by himself, just to get over his mad, and then he's back and all smiles again. He's very like me in that way. However, if you keep pestering him, and don't let him get over it... well... the results are never good. But it doesn't happen often, and it's very rarely physical.

*sigh*

I also asked about his math scores (again), hoping to get a more definitive answer. Ah, vain hope, how you fade against the light! Okay, that's me being overly dramatic, but, jays, I'm telling y'all... "Oh, he's doing fine, he's doing so much better, it's mostly a matter of him staying on focus, and yes, there's some test anxiety there, but I'm sure we can work him through it..."

Yes, because last semester, his math test scores were so much higher, and suddenly this semester, he's tanking, oh, yes, thank you, that all makes so much sense now! How silly of me to be concerned!!

I have higher hopes of the school counselor.

The Husbandly One wants to transfer him to another school. I pointed out to him that Mr. Manzie's problems are specific to one teacher, a teacher who is new at the school (and new to teaching), and not with the school per se. If I thought it was worth it, I would ask that he be transferred to another class, but we only have three and a half weeks left. He does have good friends in his class (his best friend is in the class), and I had told him this morning to stick with his friends and ignore anyone else. When I picked him up after school, he came racing to me as usual, and threw his arms around me, hugging me a little harder than he usually does.

"I really love you, Mom," he said, and I hugged him back, telling him I loved him dearly, dearly.

He grabbed my hand so we could start walking to the car. "My teacher said you called today. She said you called five times!!"

"Um... yes, yes, I did," I said, wondering what was going on.

He grinned and said, "I'm glad. I'm really glad!"

"Oh? Why?"

"Because she told me what a good job I'm doing in math, and that she's proud of how hard I've been working."

"I see," I said, wondering where this was going. "Well, so... how was today?"

"It wasn't too bad. I stayed with my friends, like you said, and I had a really good day." And he started skipping along happily beside me, chattering away like a little bluejay, and I wondered again about how resilient kids are, and that sometimes, all it takes to make me happy is to see him cheerfully skipping along beside me, talking about silly things, and making the odd little noises boys are so prone to making, all in an effort to gross me out...

I guess we'll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings...

Thirteen years ago today, I was driving the Husbandly One nuts every time the door to my hospital room popped or squeaked. I'd sit up and say, "Is she here yet? Have they brought her?"

And he'd groan and say, "No, honey, she's not here yet, for pete's sake, GO BACK TO SLEEP!!" because we'd been up all night the night before.

Over and over, any time a door down the hall opened, my door would squeak, groan, or pop, and I'd sit up and say, "Now? Is she here now??"

And he'd throw a pillow at me.

I should have been exhausted, and I was, but I couldn't sleep. I was drugged up to my eyeballs, but I couldn't close them to save my life. I couldn't sleep, couldn't relax, couldn't do anything until I saw my daughter.

Then the nurses finally brought her into my room, and I held out my arms, and they handed her to me, and I forgot all about everything else as I eagerly unwrapped the blankets and counted every finger, every toe, looked into her face, sniffed her head, and kissed her and said, "Yep, this is my kid," then promptly curled up with her in my arms and went fast asleep.

And the Husbandly One said, "Hey! No fair!! You kept me up ALL NIGHT LONG!! WAKE UP!!"

And the nurses said, "AAAACK! SHE CAN'T SLEEP WITH THE BABY IN HER ARMS!! PUT THE BABY BACK IN THE BASSINET!!"

So the Husbandly One picked the baby up and put her back in the bassinet. Whereupon I promptly sat up, not quite awake, and started reaching and whining for my child. So, he picked her back up, put her back in my arms, and I promptly curled on my side with her in my arms and went right back to sleep. When the nurses freaked, THO said, "My wife wants the baby in her arms, she gets to keep the baby in her arms. They'll both sleep better that way. Now, if you're done here, go find someone else to bother!" So they did.

And so began our adventures with the Impertinent Daughter, who introduced us to the joys and horrors of Parenthood. It has definitely been a rollercoaster ride! And we've enjoyed every single second, even the terrifying ones!!

Happy Birthday, Impertinent Daughter! Love you bunches!!

And here are the promised photos of the bag I made to carry the Impertinent Daughter's bento!

( Cut for photos, and for length )

( What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again... )

I have fallen in love with this entry. It's a brilliant little piece of writing, just one of those things that I imagine all of us as writers do when we see people in public places that intrigue us, how we make up little stories and lives for them in our heads, staring dreamily as we imagine what will happen when they leave our sight...

Except... she just did it better. And wrote it all down.

*sighs happily*

Here it is, the finished blanket!! You get to see it!!

( Beware, oh users of Dial-Up, for verily, thou shalt wait long, because the picture is nigh, and large )

lddurham... I'm gonna end up on Ravelry, aren't I? I mean, I'm already hitting weloveamigurumi, and I finally signed up on Lion Brand yarn's site so I could get at some of their patterns...

And oh, by the way... the blanket that I've been working on for Miss Priss?

It's done. I'm done, I'm done, glory halleeluyer, I'm done! Yes, when I wasn't curled up in a little ball of misery on the bed with my head buried in the pillows, I was sitting up, curled in a ball on the bed, crocheting to keep my over-active mind from driving me nuts, and therefore, I FINISHED THE BLANKET!!!

WOOT! WOOT! WOOT!!

*bows to cheers*

Yes, thank you, thank you, it was a difficult task, but I got it done, and she's very pleased with it, and can't wait for cold weather to come back so she can use it!

I'll post pictures later, promise! But I just had to tell y'all, because it's one thing that's gone right in an otherwise sucky weekend!!

What a day.

Ran some errands, though I found to my great irritation when I got home that I had forgotten to pick up rooting hormone for my rose cuttings, and teflon tape. It doesn't help that our local WalMart is remodeling, so you can't find anything. I swear, it's like going on a treasure hunt every time I go in, and not the fun kind. Half the time, even the employees can't help you because... they don't know where anything is, either. And I must say, I find their method of grouping merchandise eccentric, if not just plain entertaining.

Anyone want to explain why I found two shelves of sanitary napkins in the paint department?

And hey, you know, every time I go shopping for underwear, you know I'm really thinking about pork rinds, right? So, I guess it's handy to have them right there in the big middle of the women's bras and such.

*shakes head*

And the fabric department is gone. Not that I was wild about the fabric they had, but I didn't mind buying, say, denim, or tapestry fabric, etc, at WalMart, and it beat driving into Austin or San Marcos when I was in a pinch. Now, though... *grimaces*

I've dug and created a bed at the end of the back porch, and added compost to amend it a bit. The folks who lived here before us left the head and foot of a metal bed frame in the garden, I guess to provide architectural interest. I'm going to put the head in the bed I just dug, and plan to plant moon vine there. I love moon flowers. They're big and fragrant, and bloom in the evenings. I planted them at our first house in this area, and loved watching the sphinx moths come out to sip nectar from them. We used to deliberately wear white shirts so the moths would fly up to us land on us. They were so cool!

I'm hoping to plant purple hyacinth bean against the back fence, too. That won't bloom until August/September, but it will be so pretty when it does! And the hummingbirds love it.

I want to clear some of the flower beds in the front yard, but for some odd reason, I can only work out there for a very short time before I start feeling extraordinarily bad. Like, "Oh, gods, I have to go to hook up the nebulizer and go straight to bed," bad. And we have no idea why. There is no obvious difference between the front yard and back yard unless...

*is suddenly thoughtful*

In other news, I have discovered that the Impertinent Daughter will not find out if she's made the 7th grade soccer team at her school until the day before their first game. Which is on Thursday... this week.

They only started tryouts/practice last week.

O_o

You know, when I was in swimming, we started practicing for the season (which was November through May, though it didn't get really competitive until February) in September. And we started basketball practice in early October for the season that ran from November through April.

I find it sort of nuts to start soccer practices a week before the season starts. And what really blows my mind?

A lot of the girls trying out have either never played before or... they only started playing last year.

Out of 33 girls that were trying out, I only recognized maybe... eight, that played in our league. And one that I know plays select outside our league. So that's... twenty four girls with little or no experience.

o_O

*does not know what to think*

Well... it should be an... interesting season!

Oy... what a day!

It's been a very busy week.

We bought a new (to us) car. A 2007 Honda Accord. And because we now belong to a credit union, we got a great deal. Made me realize that Washington Mutual's collapse was probably one of the best things that could have happened to us. And I am now much happier that the Husbandly One will now be driving a car that doesn't look like it was built by gnomes and is powered by hamsters on speed. It was just about to lose its trade-in value, so we got it right on the cusp, and we will now be able to pay off the minivan. The payment on the Honda is low enough that it's like getting $200 back in our pocket every month!

-Miss Priss is having soccer tryouts/practices this week. It's a bit of a snafu, really. The junior high and high school shares coaches, and the high school teams have their soccer season first, then the coaches go to the junior high to start the junior high season. Except... the high school girl's varsity team made the playoffs. So an assistant track coach was running the practices... kinda. And there were 24 girls trying out this week, plus nine to follow next week when track season ends. Did I mention their first game is on Thursday? And they still haven't decided if they're going to have a 7th grade team and an 8th grade team... or combine both.

*has a headache*

I've got a lot of writing to do, and... not much gumption to do it, at the moment. I think I would prefer to go back to bed, actually, except I can't, because Mr. Manzie is home with a sore throat, and his stomach's hurting.

He is currently curled up under a blanket on the couch, watching "Love, Hina" on DVD in the living room. We checked them out from the library in San Marcos. Oh, did I mention, we got tired of the utterly sucky library in our town, and went and got a family membership at the San Marcos library. It's nice to have a place where I can do research uninterrupted, and actually find material that I need.

Why does our library suck? I have no idea, but it may be related to the reason why every time someone's tried to open a bookstore in our town, it's failed miserably. Apparently, no one reads here. THO and I once had dreams of opening a bookstore here, because there's actually several storefronts that would work beautifully, but... it wouldn't work.

Oh well, it's probably for the best. I'd spend more time reading the inventory than actually working.

I think we're actually going to be able to manage a garden this year! I had actually planned to work in two of the front beds today, but...*shrugs* We had rain, sort of, yesterday, and THO had planned to cancel soccer practice for his little U8 team, because we figured the fields would be a muddy mess, but to our surprise, even though they got more rain out there than we got here at the house... you could hardly tell it had rained at all. The ground is so dry, it just... soaked it all up! So, the ground here should be just the right mix of moist/dry to work with. We shall see. I need to prep a bed by the back porch to plant moon vine seeds, too.

*is getting eager*

And now to call the doctor about seeing the Impossible Son today... busy, busy, busy...