stuff

10-12-10




It is 10:30 in the morning. I have not written at all. It is an odd thing to do. But I have been reading mostly this morning. I wanted to distract myself from Dax and work and well, everything.



Don’t worry. I am ok. Last night after spending a horrid session of Dax’s hand being poked, prodded, cut and drained, I was spent. I felt the panic attack coming on strong, especially after I got home and realized that I still had dinner to make, homework to help with and clean up to do. Really, all of this was minor, but when you are having a panic attack, it is amazing how something as insignificant as an ant on your keyboard can drive you to nuttyville.



My mom called to check on Dax. I told her the details and explained how the doctor wanted to see under the blister to know what we were working on for healing. I assured her that he has pain meds that I intend on keeping him on so as to keep her grandson from as much suffering as possible. Her question was what was I taking.



I took a Xanax and visited with my good friend the Captain.



I felt so bad having taken all of the sympathy for myself. I asked Ken how he was doing. He said that when they first were draining the blister, he actually got faint. It wasn’t like it was gross. Just the whole idea of this being his son was getting to him.



I tried some therapeutic cleaning, but kept getting side tracked. Actually, I made a point of trying not to snip or yell at Ken if at all possible. I wanted to talk and walk him through my “episodes” so that he could understand better. I think I did ok. Not the best, but we did go to bed laughing.



My dad has offered for them to come to us tonight for their Tuesday visit with the boys. Luckily I had done some mega cleaning on Sunday, and Ken is working on the other problem spots this morning for me. I know it shouldn’t matter, but I don’t want to stress about any silent judging on the condition of our living arrangements.



Poor Dax is not allowed to get his hand dirty. I recommended Ken take a sock tomorrow to help alleviate any more panic calls from his teacher which today consisted of her worries about getting orange paint on his bandage. The sock covering should also allow him some playground time, which will be good. It is not right to insist that a 4 year old stay this clean.



I want to color my hair a different color this time. I am tempted to do something shocking just to amuse my children. Both of them insisted on me doing my hair this shocking red, similar to the color Rhianna is sporting these days. I tried to show them a deeper, more “me” red, and Bobby rejected it saying it wasn’t bright enough.



Ok, I have written a page in 8 minutes. Not bad.



There is the annual writing challenge next month. I wonder what I will write. I may stick with a fictional account of what I know. I may stop blogging for the month and just concentrate on that. It could be a lot of fun.



I also noted that I have not written any deep and insightful tales of late. I have been too wrapped up in the mundane and ordinary. I need to change this. It is one thing to become boring in real life, but my journals are designed to be not only informative, but a way to express ideas and emotion.



I have determined it is not in my best interest to watch the 10 o’clock news. I am sure Ken finds it endlessly amusing, but it really is one of those shows that gets me all worked up into a tizzy because of the parade of idiots on display.



In one amusing note about the news, I always got a kick out of the fact that many of the news stories included them reporting on what the newspaper headlines were on various publications. Said headlines now have been replaced by tweets by random fucktards.



Oh, shoot, I even forgot to post this. Man, I suck.