For some reason, it really cracks up some people that I call my boys “dudes.” I have no idea why. If I had a couple of girly girls, I’d understand it, but I have two very boy boys. So they’re my dudes.
It’s been a couple of wild, and (in some ways) incredibly craptacular, weeks. So much so that I gave up on this blog because thinking was too much and sometimes a second glass of wine is better for the soul than writing. Thanks to Cursing Mama for checking in on me and making sure I wasn’t snowed in. Snowed under, yes, snowed in, no, despite what you might have seen on the news about the weather out here.
Thanksgiving was good, despite the 14 hour drive to Iowa. It isn’t a bad drive, just long and boring, especially the three hours at the beginning and at the end. I-80 is fine, it’s the rest that sucks. Coming home J was sick with some sort of mystery cough and I had food poisoning. Yeah, that was a nice, long trip home. Once home, I was knocked over with another blinding migraine. Yeah, I gotta drop the stress in my life or these migraines are going to be the end of me. I mean “blinding” in that I lose sight. Not fun. They come up out of nowhere; I’m scared to death it’s going to happen when I’m out driving with the boys.
So all last week I was weak and bleh. Add on top of that all the crap that happened and that second glass of wine was my choice.
See, from the outside we look like the standard American nuclear family, circa 1954, down to the buzz cuts on my boys’ little blond heads. Working husband, stay at home mom, two little blond boys three years apart…if I wore heels and pearls while cleaning (hell, if I cleaned!) we’d be an ad for “how life used to be.”
Except we’re not. Not by a long shot. I know how blessed we are, how things could be. We could be dealing with all sorts of horrible, terrible, overwhelming problems ranging from marital problems (thank GOD nothing like that here, that’d be the straw that broke the camel’s back) to long-term illness. So I feel guilty not dealing with my life well, but I feel like I’ve been on the edge for so long I have little reserve left.
Last week it all came to a head. Nothing surprising, but it still sucked. J was diagnosed with a significant speech delay. His hearing is fine, his language comprehension is great, his speech production sucks. I guess on, easily, 80% of what he says. His own mother has no freaking clue what he’s talking about. So speech therapy in on the horizon. Expensive ($250 a week expensive) and not covered by insurance speech therapy is coming up. I’m looking into assistance and other options.
And again, not surprising, it’s been a long long time in coming. Three years, at least. A was finally diagnosed ADHD. Anyone who knows this kid won’t be surprised. Anyone who knows me knows that I fought this diagnosis for a long time. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out what’s going on with him, and finally this was the last diagnosis standing. Friday he started on his meds, the patch. He went damned near manic. I don’t think he stopped talking for 10 hours. Scared the shit out of us. He couldn’t stop, he was talking about nothing. It was like stream-of-consciousness babbling. Then he got the flu from the flu shot he got on Thursday (and he’s still sick today, it’s been three days). So now he’s on half a patch and he’s totally grogged out today. The meds or the flu? We don’t know.
Those two diagnoses coming one right after the other just knocked me for a loop. Again, I know how blessed we are, how very blessed. And my problems look tiny and pathetic in the grand scheme of things. But I’m wiped. A has been a challenging kid since before he was born and nearly 6 years of keeping up and trying to get ahead of him has nearly depleted me. I pray these meds help him, and help us. I’m tired of the stress.
And now the holidays are upon us. My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving: it’s not commercialized, it’s built around food and family, there’s a kick-ass parade. My kind of day. Least favorite is Halloween, Christmas is somewhere in the middle. So now I must gear up for Christmas. At least with A sick and J napping I can get lots done today.
I’ll be back, I’ll be more interesting. But not today.
Dude – I call my kids dudes too. I certainly can’t call them ladies (I think Gameboy would get offended)so they earn the moniker dudes. Occasionally I also call adult people dudes – could be left over from my life as a teenager in the 80’s. Ahh – the sweet 80’s with crazy hair, crazy fashion, and downright horrific grammar.
If I had a snow shovel you know I’d be there to help out, but MN and CO are a 14+ hour drive. You know you can email any time if you need to vent.
Dude, you were in IOWA! On I80. I bet you were NEAR ME!
(I have called people dude since like, 1987… so it’s not even because of you or your post that I called you that. Plus – living in Southern California in the late 80’s, well, you pick up ‘dude’ whether you want to or not!). And anyway, my three kids call each other dude too.
It just is.
Anyway – Iowa! Iowa! I’m stuck in Iowa… wish you would have come visited me. 😉