The Crazies

Debating whether or not I should have made that singular instead of plural. If we take a vote, I think I win the election for President of Crazyland. With that in mind I wonder if you've found my new address yet? I'm also debating whether I should just have made my blog private instead of starting a new one. Part of the convoluted thinking was that private blogs don't show up in updates and perhaps you would not know about all the exciting goings-on in my very exciting life and perhaps, just perhaps, you would forget me?

Do we ever really outgrow the need for validation?

I am currently toasting my insanity with a cold (regular, not diet) coke that has a strawberry floating in it. The kids created this cocktail. And I'm DRINKING it. See? I AM crazy. Come the Revolution, I don't think anyone is allowed to eat/drink kid-made food. Soozadoo has a theory about that.

The hectic pace of school days is adding wrinkles of thought train jumping that have my head spinning. Up before 7 a.m. Dress the kids, tell them one million times to brush their teeth, put on their shoes, don't forget the lunchbox.... pick up after the morning rush, work, home, play, laundry, supper, baths, homework, bedtime, school lunch prep, clean-up, start the dishwasher and another load of laundry.... repeat. I don't like repetition. It's mind-numbing. The whole "going postal" phenomenon is starting to make sense to me.

The girl endeavors to break up the monotony by introducing imaginary pet snakes to the family. Our snake's name is "Mr. Reggie" and he's a non-venomous rat snake. He eats rats. Just in case you couldn't figure it out on your own. The girl doesn't think anyone can figure that out.

Her barbie cell phone is constantly ringing with calls from her cousin, W. He is now the proud owner of an imaginary seahorse pool that dispenses pop-out drinks. To quote her side of this one-sided conversation, "Holy COW! That's AWESOME!!"

The head geek let them watch Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and the girl has been telling all her friends that some people eat monkey brains and eyeball . Looks like I won't be on the mother-of-the-year ballot. Again.

The geek-in-training child is discussing shark sizes past and present (Megaladon vs. Great White, etc.) and bite pressures. "Do you think a Great White's bite is worse than a Hammerhead's? Did you know that Jaws was half a house long?!" He is trying to convince us that he is old enough to see Jaws without suffering any traumatic nightmares. I think that HE thinks it's more documentary than movie magic.

Today I let him dress himself. Though I had to bite through my lip when he walked out in a black Empire Strikes Back t-shirt and dark brown shorts. Black and brown? Together? Ohhhhh. I let him walk out the door because I knew allowing him to make a choice was more important than the assault that choice wreaked on my fashion sensibilities.

So if you don't find me, you might see an email in your inbox saying that my old blog is now private and you must sign in or have a password or something and schizophrenic me will have moved back to the old place without ever truly unpacking at the new one. But if you don't find me, you might never know just how truly insane I am. And now that you DO know, perhaps you won't want to come over and sit a spell?

Oh.

You already knew ?