Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Overwhelming Overwhelminess

     Hey, guys, I'm throwing a pity party, and you're all invited!  For cereal, though, I haven't updated my blog in...oh, forever because things have been kind of rough around here.  So, now I'm going to vent.  You don't have to read it, but it's my party, and I'll cry if I want to!
     To start with, I know lots of people have it rougher than I do.  I know this.  But, lately, I feel like we can't catch a break.  And, for once in the history of this blog, the struggles have nothing to do with Autism.  To the contrary, my son has been rocking the pants off of the first grade.  I knew he was a smart cookie, but I had no idea that he was actually face-meltingly brilliant.  (It's a medical term.  Look it up.)  We seem to have found a system for doing things that actually works.  So, yay, three cheers for us, right?  Yes.  But, every other thing going on in our lives seems to be ten times more difficult than necessary.  My seven year old is really, really struggling with first grade.  (She repeated kindergarten, and is now in the same grade as Skeletor.)  We have an appointment soon to have her evaluated for...I don't even know.  Whatever's causing her extreme difficulties?  We have a family history of dyslexia among other things.  So, yeah.  That's not fun.
     Then, of course, is my fibromyalgia and its corresponding lack of gainful employment.  (Which causes soul-sucking poverty.)  If anyone has actually read this blog semi-regularly (?), you might recall that I've been struggling with a mysterious illness for several years now.  Because it started when I was in Iraq, I called it my Terrible Iraqi Wasting Disease.  Then, when I got back to the States and the symptoms didn't go away, it became my Terrible Intercontinental Wasting Disease or TICWD (pronounced Ticweed) for short.  Then I was misdiagnosed with the Lymes, and now, five years later, here I sit being all fibromyalgia-y and junk.  It is also not fun.
     So, I say all that to say this:  I'm back.  For real this time.  Baby, I won't ever leave you again.  I promise.  You're my soul mate, girl.  Take me back.  Please?

                                                  What I would look like if I were a cartoon.


  1. Blogspot just ate my comment because it says I am not who I say I am. In a Ferris Bueller accent, it said that. Are you suggesting I am not who I say I am?

    I just tried to tell your very well-tempered rant (well-tempered given any circumstances, really, and especially yours) that I hope your daughter finds rays of sunshine in first grade and that skeletor continues to melt faces in a good way. And that your ticweed is simply and cheaply cured with a gentle, over-the-counter combination of a single fresh apple. Goodbye, ticweed. Forever.


    1. Everything about this comment just made me super happy!

  2. You never need apologize for a rant or for an absence. Besides I love a good pity party. If you want I can even supply the party favors (it will include shredded IEP documents as confetti)

  3. Something must be in the air (or the ticweed), because I'M BACK at my blog too. And hell, what's the point of having a blog that nobody pays you for if not for the ability to slack completely and have NO ONE who can say anything at all because you can always respond, "OK FINE. I'll take a 50% pay cut. Asswipe."
    Also, welcome back.