The Crazy Coaster

        If the crazy coaster comes to your house don't get on it. I have several people in my life that suffer from mental illness and the coaster comes to my house often. In fact it is sitting right outside my door waiting for me to sit down. The jackals on board are howling with satisfaction if I climb on and weeping if I do not.  Sometimes the coaster seems tantalizing. I mean, what if it is different this time? What if I can make the course change? Sometimes it seems easier to join them in their self pity then the effort it takes not to. Especially for those who have the terrible habit that I do.  I have this stubborn quality that hates being wrong so if the invitation is an argument, I usually find it hard to say no. I also can't handle being rejected well nor do I like being insulted. When these things happen I fight back and have found myself smack dab in the middle of the coaster.
      The crazy roller coaster can even trick you. You think for sure this time you are not getting on and before you know it you are strapped in and headed for a downward spiral. I usually love roller coasters, but this is one coaster that I do not enjoy. Once you are on it, you are strapped in and thrust into a scary addictive series of twists and turns that you cannot control if you wished to. Yes, it is addictive....the rush of the roller coaster, but do not let the adreline rush reel you in.
      This coaster is sometimes subtle in presenting itself and you may not even realize your on it until it is too late. I have even ridden the coaster and later gave an excuse to why I got on. In my mind it was a good reason, but in the sane mind my excuse is illogical. Once you climb on, you have yielded control of your situation.  You are letting the driver, which is never you, have complete control.  When the coaster is run by my 11 year old I need to remember that I can climb into the drivers seat and put on the brakes on it. God is in control not the roller coaster operator.
      Instead of getting on the coaster you are to run from it, avoiding it at all costs. My wellness is critical for my family's sake. This last sentence was not reality for me last week. Last week I rode the coaster daily and was in constant state of dizziness. I wasn't contributing to my recovery, but instead was making the roller coaster more tantalizing of a choice.
     I have the choice NOT to get on that coaster. When I emotionally detach from the situation at hand, no matter how crazy, I can be a better mom to my children, a better wife to my husband, a better friend and most importantly a better child of God. When I focus on God and ask Him for guidance about the situation that the coaster is weaving into, then God is in control of the coaster. Wether the coaster is spiralling into someone's depression,or climbing rapidly into a heated argument, or all out mania, I can choose to ignore it. I can choose to "change the dance" by not climbing aboard.  If I have the urge to ride a roller coaster I need to go to Six Flags. Those coasters are definetly more fun.

How not to eat chocolate

http://www.instructables.com/id/Chocolate-Covered-Squid---Valentine-s-Day-Candy-Fr/
       Okay a friend of mine gave me this recipe, knowing how much I love chocolate. This has got to be the nastiest way to cook using chocolate ever. A close second would be chocolate covered grasshoppers. This recipe is from the same person who eats chocolate covered bacon, but at least both of those things are yummy on their own. Squid and chocolate do not go together!!! Do you hear me Darren?
         They look like they are fake when covered in chocolate but I can imagine the feel of the slimy rubbery squid as it slides down my throat and I want to puke. I love chocolate but this is one recipe that gets a huge thumb down for me. I do not enjoy calamari, which is at least fried, why in the world would I want to try this. And then he tells me it is spicy too. So throw in the chili powder to hide the taste of the squid or squelch the taste of the chocolate, which by the way was already ruined with the fishy squid flavor.
       When I was in high school my teacher gave us chocolate bars that were really chocolate covered ants and chocolate covered spiders. It really didn't taste all that bad, but when I bite into my chocolate bar I do not want a crunchy spider leg to poke out. Once I saw that it ruined the chocolate taste and made my stomach turn inside out. Don't get me wrong I love chocolate, but somethings need to stay far away from the chocolate. Squid and chocolate should not even be in the same sentence nevermind the same pot.

The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

   Today's blog post is inspired by this book. I had one of these terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days yesterday. When I think about my bad day in hindsight, as I am sure any one reading this book will  agree, our bad days are really not that bad at all. For example, the poor Alexander did not get a dessert in his lunch box...oh no the horror of it. He should be thankful that he usually gets a dessert at all. Many children would die for his mother's handmade lunch. I had such a bad day yesterday that I deserved, and thouroughly enjoyed, Chipolte for lunch. Oh no, he had lima beans for dinner, but did the poor kid ever think that some malnourished kids never have vegetables for dinner. Another bad thing to happen to Alexander was kissing on the television, yet he is fortunate to own a television, maybe even more than one. His day started poor with gum in his hair, what a lucky kid to get gum before bed. His best friend told him he was his third best friend, how blessed he is to have three best friends. His teacher liked someone's sailboat drawing better than his invisible , and nonexsistant castle, well at least the kid has an imagination.
     I can definetly sympathize with Alexander for when I have a  bad morning, things seem to get worse. My day starts with uncooperative children. Followed by a mad dash to find my keys, only to realize when arriving at work that I don't have the right keys. My coffee was made incorrectly, my classroom is overly cold, my son tore up his pants and.....by the end of the day (only 10 pm mind you) I was utterly exhausted. Yes, I am at this point sounding like a sniveling whining Alexander. I had cried over the most ridiculous things such as finding a lock for my fridge, very cold weather and loud kids. I had other "issues" occur that the drama queen in me only made worse.  The only true reason for my tears was pure frustration on top of a pile of desperation, that was followed by a dash of pessimism, and a failed  test of patience. By the end of the day I was done and I wanted to run away to hide. The character Alexander keeps mentioning that he wishes to move to Australia, which yesterday I completely agreed with him. I was literally worn down and worn out. I know now, looking back, that when I am like this I should just go lie down, not speak to anyone and pray. When I open my mouth, the only thing that comes out is garbled stupidity. I was reminded of this by my best friend, which of course made me cry. Since everything made me cry yesterday, I know that it was not his fault nor his intent to make me cry.

Alexander's mother says the best thing at the end of the book. Everyone has those bad days, even in Australia.

Mini Monster

My daughter is my mini me. Why then do I find her ear piercing screeches so annoying? Did I really sound like this? She talks loud, screams loud, whines constantly and is very annoying when she does any of these things. I know I was always a chatter box and have been known for my diarreah of the mouth on occasion, but the volume issue really is unbearable. My little drama queen is in her room right now trying to convince us to help her clean her room. We could be right next to her and she would be yelling the same. She doesn't even need anyone to talk to as she will converse with imaginary friends or stuffed animals. The boys think it is funny to aggravate  her and at the present moment I had to put one child on the stairs for time out for aggravating her and making her screech. I hope she grows out of this. I know I can be annoying at times, but I am not that bad, am I?

A sweatshirt is NOT a coat

I am going to climb up on my soap box again. Today it is10 degrees out and snowing. Tomorrow will be -11 and snowing. I work at a low income school and many of these students come from Mexico. That is not an excuse for no coats. I asked  some sweat shirt wearing kids where their coats were and they point to their sweat shirt. That is NOT a coat.Many do not own coats, hats or gloves and are standing out in the 10 degree weather walking home. If the school is not cancelled tomorrow, but merely delayed the teachers at our school are going to be upset. We are a neigborhood school and most of our students walk to school so a two hour delay won't benefit them much. Especially when last time we had a two hour delay we had 30 kids sitting in the office who still walked to school at 7 am. They do not serve breakfast on a two hour delay so these kids sat hungry in the office while the office staff babysat them. Many of them had no coats and walked so the office felt bad about having to send them home.  Today a girl showed up in shorts. She walked to school too.  Come on parents SERIOUSLY! I know i have been guilty of sending my kids out without a coat when I thought it was 50degrees and it was more like 40, but not when it is 10 degrees. Today my children had on turtlenecks under the uniforms and sweatshirts AND coats not instead of. My kids hate socks, but today socks were mandatory as well. I saw many students at the school without socks on their frozen little feet.
Yes we have a coat closet for kids to help themselves to, but they were told that they have a coat so they don't bother looking in it. We also have a huge assortment of coats in the Lost and Found, but no one seems to claim their missing coats. I check that thing daily when I find my child's gloves, hats or coats have gone astray.
I am climbing off  the soapbox now.

Let me forget the forgetfulness

         I have not been as faithful to my blog as I originally planned to. Life kinda is crazy in my corner of  the world and time slips away when its left unattended. That certainly doesn't mean that my mind slows down or I found some new kind of peaceful solitude amongst the chaos. This weekend was actually one of the best ones I have had in a while, but one thing did keep rearing its ugly little head all weekend, forgetfulness. I am not old, so why does this problem even plague me. I am so fearful that one day I will leave my house and not remember which street I left it on. I lose my car keys, my bank card (though not as often), even my car in a large parking lot has been known to disappear.  I have lost my shoes, my purse or a particular piece of clothing that I just took out to wear.  My house, with the exception of this weekend, is normally a cluttered mountain of rubbish that eats my things, I am convinced. This weekend we searched all over the house for a pair of glasses and a piece to the fish tank.The glasses turned up, but the impellor never was found. Both items were lost by my sons who had them in their hand at one time and set them down to not know where they left them. I of course am thinking "oh no! Not them too!" Since this sounds like something I would do.
        One solution I have read about is herbal supplements. Seriously!! I hate pills. I hate forgetting more though and the pills may have to win. If the pills are not too big and I gag them up that is. Yes, I am a baby when it comes to pill taking. I have tried brain enhancing "memory" games which I am rather good at.  I have also tried some nasty teas that are supposed to help with memory. You probably have to take drinks of these everyday, which of course I forget to do.
        What I cannot understand is I can remember trivia and facts. I can recite the books of the Bible in order, but not memorize words to scripture. I can tell you scientific tidbits or formulas but I cannot remember how much I spent at the grocery store. I can say hello in 12 languages but cannot remember where I left my keys. There is something disturbingly odd about this. I have always had this ditzy nerd persona, but I fear that it is getting worse. My grandmother had Alzheimer's and my father has dementia as well. I do not want to go down the same path especially when I am not even 40 yet.  All this forgetting of things though make me feel older though. Right now I kinda laugh it off and make it appear funny, but it worries me quite a bit. Lots of things worry me unfortunately, but I will save those for another blog. Why can't I forget to forget sometimes?

Musical Atrocities

    Tonight was my son's first concert in the school band. He plays the drums. Yes, it is a little annoying...the banging, clanging and pounding for practice, but that is why he has a plastic practice pad. It also helps for him to play down stairs.He sounds pretty good to me though I think I am partially tone deaf. He is always playing the "drums" in the car and loves songs with strong beats.
    My first attempt at musical talent was in kindergarten when my grandma thought that her left-handed extremely clumsy, lazy-eyed  grand daughter would be good at piano. Well that lasted one year. I am proud to say that I can now, as an adult, finally play America the Beautiful and Jingle Bells.  I played the violin two years, not consecutively. The only reason I played  was because my best friend played and I went to her house every day after school. So instead of sitting on the stage being utterly bored, or starting my homework, I signed up for the orchestra. Problem was Gretchen was good at the violin and was in the advanced orchestra after years of suzuki violin lessons. I was in the beginner class and quite horrible at it. The violin sounds like a screeching cat and when I played it sounded like that poor cat was in boiling water..
       I then tried play the cornet (a small trumpet-for those of you who are also musical idiots). I wasn't very good at that either and only lasted one year. I was by 7th grade already established as a nerd so I had lots of friends in the band.  They were all better than me. I didn't want to play the cornet, but the rental place only had that and tubas left. I am way too small to play the tuba so the cornet it was. I thought the saxophone would have been cooler and my aunt wanted me to play the clarinet, but no I get the instrument nobody wanted apparently. In high school my two best friends were in the band so I sat with the band at football games, meaning I got in free, but still no musical talent wore off on me.
      My musical atrocities carried into choir as well. I sang at church, but I think everyone is allowed to be in the church choir. I also was a student director for the the musical programs at the church. The only reason for this was I was the most experienced member of the cast and was in every show since kindergarten, so as a highschooler I was an obvious candidate. So where did my son get the ability to play music? I can definitely tell you it is not from my side of the family.