THE BIG IDEA – An Update

December 14, 2005 at 7:25 pm (Uncategorized)

The school’s idea to “help” Nate is to send him to a program for behavior modification.

I asked the principal if his teacher was following the guidelines under the 504. She didn’t know. We would have to speak with his teacher on Friday.

Don’t you think, Ms. Principal, that it SHOULD be within your knowledge if one of your instructors is abiding by FEDERAL LAW or NOT?

Shouldn’t the guidelines within the 504 be followed before other drastic measures are taken? Shouldn’t myself or Nate’s father be allowed to observe the classroom? Shouldn’t the work that Nate has trouble with be forwarded home where I and his father can give him individualized attention? Shouldn’t Nate be allowed to answer questions orally when having problems with his written assignments in accordance with the 504 plan before shipping him off to a program that will probably ship him back in five days and tell you that he has a disability and that’s his problem and you need to abide by the 504 plan?

I’m not an idiot. I’m a very analytical person. Its not above me to wonder if I’m blinded by my love for my child. I have forced myself to step back from this situation, and coldly analyze the facts. I do not have all of the facts yet, but the evidence speaks LOUDLY.

Nate is a complex child. He has layered disabilities which cause him difficulties which are often interpreted as laziness. However, when I show him and remind him to break things down, using a step-by-step system, I don’t have to stay on his ass to complete his work. He does it willingly, because, damn, he’s got all of this shit in his head and WOW, he can actually put it on paper when showed how to.

I read this about learning disabled children today. Its from a Learning Disabilities Association of America:

It is often confusing to parent children with learning disabilities, ADHD, and related disorders. One of the biggest confusions and challenges parents face is the large hiatus between what the children can do and what they cannot do. Often they are very smart, know a great deal, and reason well, yet cannot read or write. School teachers and family may be telling them to try harder, and they are usually trying their hearts out. They tend to work 10 times harder than everyone else does, but still they may be called lazy.

Children may seem to be having behavior problems when, in fact, they are confronting difficulties in accomplishing a task. Children tend to withdraw or act out when a task is too demanding. It can help parents to know that when children say they hate something, that usually serves as a wonderful diagnostic tool, indicating what is difficult or impossible for them. For example, when a child loves dance, art, and music but hates drama, it could be that the child has a speech/language problem. When a child hates math or reading, these are likely areas of difficulty. Conversely, what children like and want to do usually serve as indicators of their strengths.

One of the compensations listed with the International Dyslexic Association (Inland Empire Branch) is:

Understand the student’s inconsistencies and performance variabilities.

I’m taking off the kid gloves. I’m tired of negotiating. I know Nate very well. I know when he’s crying for real, I know when he’s faking. I know his strengths, I know his weaknesses, and I know what he’s entitled to.


They can KISS. MY. ASS.

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Slippery Slope

December 14, 2005 at 2:10 pm (Uncategorized)

Ever feel like you just can’t get a handle on anything? Ever feel like you’re on one big slicky-slide, greased with oil, and no matter what you do, you feel like you can’t stop the momentum?
That’s where I am today.

I’ve got Nate, Jeff, and the school on one hand. I’ve got the seven resumes and applications, and my unsure job future ahead of me on the other hand. Somewhere above my head are my creative ventures, housecleaning, and holiday decorating. I don’t know where to turn or what to do first.

Nate’s teacher called today to set up a meeting, saying the principal “had an idea.” Well, I faxed the principal a detailed two page letter outlining OUR concerns and OUR ideas, like the school and his teacher adhering to the 504 plan. How’s that for a start? Jeff is fuming, shaking mad. I feel as though I’m caught in a vortex. I’m now in the role of negotiator. I spoke with him at length and said that in order for us to get anywhere, we had to listen and discuss, as opposed to just pushing our own agenda.

Luckily for most involved, I’ve started beading again and its helped tremendously in decreasing my stress and my TMJ symptoms. Its not as orgasmic as my other fixes but it works. Then, after finally finding a particular bead, I was able to finish Emma’s fairy, only to have Nate lose Gwennie’s, the one that’s been done for 3 or 4 months. As far behind on my housecleaning as I am, I would be better off making another fairy than trying to toss the house to find it.

Woe is me. At least I got a bit done on my novella. Foward!

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“I Give Up”

December 13, 2005 at 7:21 am (Uncategorized)

Nate had two pretty good weeks at school. Yesterday, he had a bad day so his teacher tells Jeff, “I give up. I’m not helping him anymore. I’m not making sure he has his assignments written down. He’s on his own. He can sink or swim.”

Its a good thing she’s not his mother.

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Nate and the Light Bulbs

December 10, 2005 at 7:35 pm (Uncategorized)

Over at Lois Lane’s home, you’ll find my virtual Christmas present. She couldn’t have picked a better place for me to, as Hoss would say, make my pile writing a novel. A beautiful place in the country, butler, maid, what a life. She also gifted Mr. Nate with multi-colored light bulbs, I’m assuming as a way for peeps to know when he’s got a great idea and what category that idea fits into. Nate has a lot of experience with light bulbs…

One day, I was working (probably blogging or reading blogs) in my computer room, listening to Nate through the open door and the vent on the A/C, when I heard the distinct sound of glass shattering. More like a tingling actually, so I hollered at Nate and he said he had no idea what happened. One of the thin elongated glass bulbs in the ceiling fan had burst. Suspicious for sure, however, that end of my house is known for its power surges, especially when the A/C is on so I figured it may just be possible. I off-handedly asked Nate if he hit it with anything – broom handle, yo-yo, crowbar, cat’s skull, to which he answered, “Um, no.”

I turned around to turn the fan off at the wall switch when I heard glass shattering again. I turned back in time to see Nate’s weapon of mass destruction. A water gun. Yes, yes, that little shit was using ice cold water to break the hot glass from his vantage point on the couch. Nope, he never went anywhere near that ceiling fan.

Let’s just say, Nate hasn’t broken anymore bulbs out, then again, I haven’t given back the water gun yet either.

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Thank You

December 8, 2005 at 6:27 pm (Uncategorized)

For all of your comments on yesterday’s Grinchy post. I hope we can all retain our holiday spirit and do well unto others, now and always.

Its pissin’ buckets of freezing rain. Joy to the world.

I took today off. Well, Nate and I both took today off. Why? Because I woke up feeling worse than when I went to bed. Seriously, my face was stiffer than any woody I’ve ever encountered. I just sat at my desk and cried. Nate just rolled over and mumbled a lot when I tried to rouse him. He ended up sleeping some 11 hours, whilst I dreamed a strange dream. According to the interpretation of the dream, my life is going to improve a great deal. It will still be up and down but the hills are at least gentle and rolling with beautiful scenery.

I really just wanted to dream about sex. Instead, I get rolling hills, beautiful scenery, walking into a stranger’s house, and a stowaway kid. Dreams are interesting. Also, the view from the house looked just like Germany and there was a HUGE CLOCK, sort of like Big Ben in the distance. Quite beautiful. Although the clock symbolizes that I’m feeling anxious about time running out. No shit.

Anyhow, after a hot shower, and medications of various sorts, but no orgasm, damn, I felt well enough around noon to brave the place of all places…

(no, not Wal-Mart)


D. M. V.

Yes, brave Nanner. I had to get my driver’s license renewed. Yuck. So, I had to fix my hair, put make-up on, and give over my hard earned bucks. Nate has been letting some real stinkers here recently, as in, roll down the windows, turn on a fan stinkers. So, you can imagine my mortification when he ripped a loud one in the D.M.V. line. Luckily, there was no one behind us and I hurried him along while he giggled as only little boys can.

Come to find out, he was hiding a mini whoopee cushion in his pocket and promptly handed it over to the DMV lady as payment. Oh, and he tried to hand me a booger on the way to the office and laughed hysterically when I said, “EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!”

We stopped by his doctor’s office and found out the secretary is preggers. It is a surprise baby! She said she and her husband had a lot of trouble conceiving the two children she has now so they weren’t using any birth control (for the last 6 years!). I told her I was so careful I took birth control when I wasn’t having sex, just in case there was something in the water or airborne or even in toilet paper.

Well, I can see I’ve brightened your day enough. Stop by and tell El Sid WELCOME BACK! We’ve missed you Sidra!

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Kickin’ the Tires and Lightin’ the Fires of Dissent and Piss

December 7, 2005 at 2:31 pm (Uncategorized)

The Conservative Christian Talking Heads are fussin’ mad at Bush because instead of saying, “Merry Christmas” on the White House cards, they say, “Happy Holidays,” or something similar.

Mark this down, I’m going to defend Bush, but not on principles of interfaith horseshit, but on that same conservative Christian foundation. Aren’t these the same conservative Christian Talking Heads that fuss about keeping “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance? Are they? Do ya’ll know any other conservative Christian Talking Heads in this country? Yeah, me neither.

By now, you should know that the Pledge of Allegiance didn’t always have the phrase, “under God,” in it. It was added during the Cold War so that we better-than-thou Americans could further separate ourselves from those devil lovin’ Commies. And as we’re all taught, the Pilgrims came to the new world to escape religious persecution in England and therefore this was a nation based on Christian principles.

Attention Conservative Christian Talking Heads!!! ATTENTION: THIS IS AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT FROM HISTORY (something ya’ll obviously forgot to study). THE PILGRIMS DID NOT CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS. IT WAS ACTUALLY OUTLAWED IN BOSTON FROM 1659 TO 1681 BY THE VERY PEOPLE WHO CAME TO THIS COUNTRY FOR RELIGIOUS FREEDOM. (The settlers at Jamestown, however, DID celebrate. But we’re talkin’ ’bout Pilgrims here.)

Christmas was unheard of until Pope Julius I declared December 25th the birthday of Jesus in the 4th Century, commonly believed to be this date because it coincided with the pagan rituals celebrated on the Winter Solstice (helped with conversion you see), even though there was contrary evidence that Jesus was in fact born in the Spring.

Furthermore, don’t the conservative Christian Talking Heads have better things to worry about than what the White House sends out on their Christmas cards or whether Wal-Mart places a “holiday” ad versus a “Christmas” ad? Wouldn’t you rather they worry about unfair trade practices or labor issues in America’s biggest retailer? Wouldn’t you rather they worry about Tom DeLay’s money laundering indictment? Or, wow, how about that war in Iraq? How about the number of children living in poverty IN AMERICA?

And stop telling me how to celebrate the holiday season. If I want to say, “Merry Chrisnukwantice,” shut up about it.

Today’s Spell of the Day (a somewhat, semi-reoccurring phenomena) is Pinataetipen a spell which bewitches a Christmas tree to continuously tip over until all of the bulbs and lights have been smashed. (Yes, my skin is a bit green today)

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There is SO a Santa Claus!

December 6, 2005 at 10:21 am (Uncategorized)

Over at Zelda’s place, she recounted how her neighbor’s child took pleasure in telling her eldest, Gwennie, that her parents were the Tooth Fairies and Santa Claus was dead. My friends, I am here to tell you, there is a Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus is not dead.

Let us address the Tooth Fairy question first. The origins of the Tooth Fairy are varied and not well documented but it is a relatively new practice, taking hold around the turn of the 20th century. It is postulated that it began even in older times when witches (ahem) were said to use a small piece of a person (lock of hair, fingernail clipping, tooth, testicle) to use in spells and the Tooth Fairy (fairy obviously meaning “good” sorta like Glenda the Good Witch of the North, and I’m still wondering about the Witch of the South, but that’s another post) took the tooth to protect the child.

Other stories evolved stating it is simply because losing teeth while beginning school can be a frightening thing to a 5 or 6 year old and having a “Tooth Fairy” was a way to minimize this event. Regardless, my grandparents were the Tooth Fairy, and they passed their wings down to their children, who in turn passed their wings down to their children, and so shall we pass it on as our children become parents themselves.

Becoming the Tooth Fairy is as much a rite of passage for parents as losing a tooth is for a child. You’re not just “Mom” or “Dad,” you become a memory, you carry on a tradition, we keep magic alive for our children. Don’t tell me as you take the tiny tooth, which looked so big in your baby’s mouth, and slide the appropriate monetary contribution under the pillow that you don’t pause for a moment and look at your sleeping child, maybe smoothing their hair off of their forehead and thank whatever power you believe in that you had the opportunity to be the Tooth Fairy. *sniff*

Now, on to Santa Claus. Santa Claus is based on the 4th Century bishop of Myra named Nicholas. Saint Nicholas was noted for his extraordinary kindness and generosity, a lover of the poor and the patron saint of children. His image has changed over the years, as well has adding all the elves, reindeer, and that frigid residence at the North Pole, which are things of fantasy. Saint Nicholas exemplified the Christian life and modeled his life after the teachings of Jesus Christ.

Santa Claus, to me, is the non-denominational way to remind ourselves of what is good in the world. Santa Claus lives when you stop and drop change in the Salvation Army bucket, Santa Claus lives when you catch snowflakes on your tongue, when you buy a toy for a needy child, when you look into the sky and follow that red blinking light, wondering . . . could it be?

Santa Claus is for every faith, for every hope, wish, and dream we’ve had. Santa Claus is about embracing our humanity and loving one another.

Gwennie, my darling child, Santa Claus will never die as long as one person on this Earth loves another. Santa Claus will forever live when we hold out our hands to those who need it. Whether we open our homes, our hearts, or our wallets, as long as one person can give selflessly of themselves to make someone else’s life better, Santa Claus will live. May Santa Claus live in your heart forever, as he lives in mine.

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December 5, 2005 at 11:49 am (Uncategorized)

Applied for another job this morning with a local health insurance company to do investigations. I put an implicarus spell on my resume.


The pain in my jaw has switched from muscular to nerve. Want to see Inanna writhe in pain? Let the nerve in my jaw get irritated. In about five seconds I’m in tears and ready to take a hacksaw to my jaw or the nearest individual. The sharp, rending, pulsing pain is insane. I would rather give birth. I wonder if they can give me an epidural in my face? Think crucio.


Saw Harry Potter 4 over the weekend. Nate thought it rocked, I thought it … sucked. BAH! I’m with Totsie…. except I wanted to point my wand at my head and say “obliviate” or point my wand and screen and say, “reparo” or “engorgio” and then turn my fine wand on Mike Newell and say, “rictusempra.” And I hope he pees his pants too. There’s a new spell for you, J.K. urinatus.


Nate told me the other day that our house “lacked the holiday spirit.” I’m sure if I had more spirits there would be more spirit in the house along with all the other spirits. Tostus Tuiquila anyone?


Just for fun today… create your own spell and put it in the comments. I may conjure a handmade Inannaornamentation for you or inannaornatus.


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Water, Cool Water

December 2, 2005 at 11:26 am (Uncategorized)

What started all of this introspection is AZ’s upcoming birthday on the 11th. I always write something particularly silly to mark the occasion and decided that a compare and contrast of astrological signs (rising, sun, and moon) would be interesting.

Since, AZ, Lex, and I have known each other a relatively long period of time and are a triptych friendship, I thought it would be interesting to do all three of us, just to see how accurate or inaccurate the signs were.

For clarification, the rising sign is the face we show the world, or our “mask.” The sun sign is who we are deep down. The moon sign rules emotions and how we react under stress.

AZ and Lex both gave up their birth times without question (Muaahahahahahahaha)… ahem. What I found, well, explains a lot about why the three of us form this triptych.

My rising sign is Pisces with a dash of Aquarius, denoting that I come across as a deep, emotional person who you can tell your life story to, who also has a brain. AZ’s rising sign is Capricorn, denoting a very serious minded, career-oriented, ambitious individual. Lex’s rising sign is Scorpio, denoting a deep, mysterious type person who will stand up for what they believe in and who loves to debate and argue their position.

Of course, I am a Scorpittarius, AZ is a Sagittarius, and Lex is a Cancer. You may see my Scorpittarius post for information. Cancer’s are similar to Scorpios except they tend to retreat in their shells, even more so when you attempt to draw them out. Cancer’s have pinchers but rarely use them. Most of the time they snap at you half-heartedly as a diversion while they withdraw.

In the realm of the moon, I have a Virgo moon, AZ has a Scorpio moon, and Lex has a Gemini moon. Emotionally, I tend to be very analytical and earthy. AZ’s emotions are deep, mysterious, and rarely shown. Lex just doesn’t want to be bored, and under stress he’ll fly away, literally, to Ireland or Italy.

Interesting to me is that Nate is also a Cancer, rising sign Scorpio, except his moon is in the fire sign Aries.

You can also look at it in terms of elements.

Elementally, I am Water/Air, Water/Fire, Earth. AZ is Earth, Fire, Water. Lex is Water, Water, Air.

So, what does all this mean? Nothing probably, I just thought it was interesting. I could go all analytical and draw conclusions about how we revolve around one around, linked by the deep water signs, and how that influences how we react to one another and why we are drawn to one another, blah, blah, blah. But, I won’t. It is what it is. More than anything it shows, we are ruled by more than one thing. Everyone is complex and multi-faceted. We are our own worst enemies and our own best friends. So, get out there and take your best friend to lunch.

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Ad Nauseam Infinite

December 1, 2005 at 11:23 am (Uncategorized)

As some of you caught on while Kristin was filling in, I had a birthday whilst on my brief hiatus.

I celebrated number 35 in terrible form. I spent most of the day in tears or on the verge of tears, angry and despondent. I spent some of the afternoon in Nate’s principal’s office. I told him later that I had spent more time in his principal’s office this year than I had in any principal’s office in my entire 13 years of schooling. I’ve told you before I was always a sweet little girl.

My moon is a Virgo moon, which makes me a highly analytical individual, especially in emotional situations. Its as though someone played a cruel joke to give me a Pisces rising and to be in the sun of the Scorpittarius and then give me no outlet for all of those emotive signs. At least, verbally. Even in my writings though, my personal writings, I tend to be highly, highly analytical.

I tear down every situation, piece by piece. And then I tear down those pieces into pieces and those pieces into pieces, ad nauseam infinite. Then all of those pieces must be weighed against the other pieces, pros and cons, blacks, whites, and grays, the good, the bad, and the indifferent, ad nauseam infinite. Every emotion, whether I feel it, or it is projected onto me, is dissected and digested, discussed, debated, and questioned, all within myself, ad nauseam infinite.

Whether instinct or survival, when I’m under stress, I push people away. The analytical side of me just overruns everything. I have to just think. But it gets me no where to think. I run around in circles, chasing my own emotions because I have no idea what to do with them. Its like silly putty. I stick it on me and make a carbon copy of the situation or the emotion. I make that copy so I can study it. The real thing still exists, but it has been split, and the silly putty becomes the horcrux (HP fans know what I speak of).

What started all of this was AZ’s upcoming birthday, but that whole kit and kaboodle is for tomorrow’s post. Anyway, I decided I was just basically sick of pondering and wondering and running around in circles. I wrote AZ a letter over my hiatus. It is a long letter. I told him how I was feeling, all of it, and I told him I was sick of analyzing everything, so I was just going to write what I felt.

It was liberating to say, “I feel like shit. I hate my life right now. I’m depressed, moody, bitchy, and hateful,” and then allow myself to NOT analyze it. The reasons behind all of those feelings are apparent and don’t need to be discussed, debated and questioned, ad nauseam infinite.

Somewhere along the line, I’ve stuffed a whole bunch of feelings deep inside of me. Anger, pain, hatred, disappointment, broken pieces of hurt, like shards of glass, boiling and rolling beneath the surface. My own private cesspool which is slowly leaking from its confines like toxic waste, visible at times, only through my poison pen, forked tongue, and red glowing eyes.

I’m not in a good place right now. One good thing is that AZ knows, he understands without question, requiring no explanation. There’s more to the picture than I put here, from every facet of my life. Its the past, the present, its an uncertain future, its relationships, and non-relationships, work, personal demons, and personal desires that could and may provide me with material for onion peeling and blogging – ad nauseam infinite.

Yes, I do still have a sense of humor, dark as it may be.

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