Say What? So much To Say. Where's the Pinata???

I don't want this to be a "Why I haven't blogged" post. Snoozefest.

I don't want this to be a "My life has been so difficult lately!" post. Whinefest.

I don't want this to be a "Oh man, so many funny things have happened!" post. Fakehumorfest.

I don't want this to be a "Here's what I've been up to" post. Ramblefest.

So, it's a "Ihaven'tbloggedbecauseI'vebeensobusyandswampedandmy5yearoldcrackedmyribsinhislatestrageandI'mcompletelyoverwhelmedanddrowningbutfunnythingshavehappenedandIdon'tknowhowtoexplainthemtoyou" post.

Ya still with me? Mmkay then.

Honestly? I'm drowning in self pity over here. I'm getting ready to go do a Handwashing Study at the Medical Science building for a hundred bucks so we can buy school supplies. Which, honestly, pretty much sums it all up lately.

Corban has been doing really well lately but last week he had this rage that was Ree-Dick-You-Less.

I picked him up and carried him up the stairs (I know I'm not the only one with bruised appendages from this, right?) to deposit him in his room. When I set him down his foot came up and he kicked me in the ribs right below my right boob. Holy (bad word bad word bad word) hell that hurts. I'm about 99.9% certain he cracked or severely bruised my ribs. I'm not willing to spend the co-pay and out of pocket to go find out since they don't do anything about it.

What's wrong with him, you ask? Well who the hell knows. He was diagnosed with Sensory Processing/Integration Disorder when he was 2 but now there is something more going on. He's violently angry. And they're looking at Bi-Polar and Anxiety. I'm looking at full-body armor and counseling for myself. HA! I kid. Mostly.

He's in OT and Speech and is doing Vision Therapy because apparently his eyes don't track correctly. Some malfunction in his brain. Insurance thinks Vision Therapy is VooDoo or something and they won't cover it. And we're supposed to start seeing a Behavioral Specialist/Child Psychologist, too. (Keaton is still in PT for Congenital Tortecollis, too.) No wonder people lose their houses trying to make sure their kids get the therapies they need. Who the bloody hell can afford all this shit? Huh? I work two jobs. Rob works two jobs. We have good insurance. You know what? We're out of Flex money already. We're Tapped. Out. How the eff are we supposed to pay for all the things Corban needs and the other kids, too? We don't qualify for assistance or Early Intervention. He's not delayed enough for the other assistance. He doesn't have the right diagnosis for the assistance for kids on the spectrum. I want to just give up and say the hell with it. But, yk, I don't ACTUALLY want to do that. I'm just tired and frustrated.

Oh look, this is a self-pity party with a woe-is-me accent. Who is the party planner?? Damnit - you're fired. Where the hell is the pinata??

I haven't blogged purely because I have nothing positive to say. I'm a whiner right now. Oh, I know. Thank you. I know it's ok to whine. I just hate it. I'd rather wine. and Dine. sometimes even sixty..what? Oh, right...not appropriate. Ok.

Sienna is going into 7th Grade. 7th Grade. Jr. High sucks, people.

Cara is in 5th this year. She's nervous. And SO dramatic. Good Lord. She belongs on TV.

Corban..well, he's...angry. No, I don't know why. Maybe you can tell me?

Brennan is 3 and currently grounded from his Super Hero Underwear for peeing on the floor. WTF?? Dude PT'd himself and now he's peeing on the floor? Damnit. Get a grip! Preferable a grip that aims at the water in the toilet bowl, yo.

Keaton is 10 months and crawling like a maniac. He climbed 5 stairs this morning and is cruising the furniture, He says Bye and Da-Da. He's in PT once a week and doing great.

Rob? Working his ASS off for pittance and that's about all I can say just in case someone from his work reads this.

Pity Party in full affect, yo. So instead of blogging I watch TV. Like Project Runway, 24 Hour Restaurant Challenge, The Great Food Truck Race, Hell's Kitchen and Master Chef. Oh, and White Collar (yum). I watch those while I nurse and rock 'Sir Never Sleeps' aka Keaton.

"I say my hell is the closet I'm stuck inside....and my Heaven is a nice house in the sky. Got central heating and I'm all right. Can't see the light. Keep it locked up inside, don't talk about it...talk about the weather. Can't see the light. Open up my head and let me out..."




Some times..I find it's easy to be myself. Some times I find it's better to be somebody else.


Or my other theme song as of lately...



Word.

Peace Out.