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Today is BUH DAY!
Feb. 9th, 2006 09:15 pmWarning: Non-comics entry. Not huffy. Not about asses of the fleshy or two-legged sort. Mostly about cats and bad days.
Boy started physical therapy again today, and did awesome. I got stressed from all the driving and lack of adult company I came home to find King in a knicker-bunch, obessing on tomorrow's day, which is pretty full, and includes a meeting about our Girl's school accomodations.
I let him off the meeting hook, and I will go alone. The rule is, though, he's not allowed to bitch, not one syllable, about any ARD he doesn't/can't attend. (It's been the rule since kinder when he took a pass on a parent-teacher meeting about Girl, and was unhappy with what was said, explosively saying "BULLSHIT!" at a gas pump after the meeting he "couldn't" get to. You don't show up, you live with the results, you don't bitch TO the partner because it's too much like you're bitching AT the partner.)
My rule is, if I start to feel like I'm going to cry, I'm leaving, which is a rule we both like.
I'll keep making rules until he starts remembering, 95% of the time in 5 out of 5 trials to THROW HIS EMPTY FUCKING ROOT BEER BOTTLES AWAY. (A little autism/OHI IEP humor for folks.)
I took Boy and Girl to Wally, and even though nothing happened, it still left me crabbier than before. Girl got smart and avoided further stress by starting homework on her own. We finished early enough to run a mission together in Guild Wars.
Today, I am weirdly out of sorts and meta-bitchy. Oh, I remember: King bitching about the cats, as if no other lifeform in this house (including him) has broken anything. As if the big dog he adores doesn't leave patties cows would envy. As if he is not a couch-killer, the way he flops on them. The driver's seats of both vehicles have impossible-to-adust-comfortably-vertical-because-they-are-sprung backs now because King has to lean back whenever he gets into a driver's seat. (The rest of us are equally guilty of destruction. I am guilty of not yet finishing tile work and wallboarding.)
The cat screed made me say I was glad I was leaving the broken Mason jar of glass for him to clean up.
Okay, okay, I can see how that would've colored his day.
In other news, I bought myself a new pillow, because my old one is a mere wafer of polyfill, and declared I did not want to ever have to ask anyone to give it back. MINE.
The last of the cats that require surgical surprise go in next week. This means ADOPTION TIME is HERE AGAIN. Vince and Frap had a home that fell through. Martin's adopter has one more chance. Mocha's on probation. If she doesn't stop freaking out and breaking shit, she's got to go to an only cat home.
At least Girl's inclusion assistant seems to be awesome. (I met her at school this morning while I was leaving a note for the school psych.) Oh, all right, and Girl got a Venti Frappucino instead of Tall because it was made "wrong."
And she brought me a rat to crawl on me because I needed rat therapy.
Boy started physical therapy again today, and did awesome. I got stressed from all the driving and lack of adult company I came home to find King in a knicker-bunch, obessing on tomorrow's day, which is pretty full, and includes a meeting about our Girl's school accomodations.
I let him off the meeting hook, and I will go alone. The rule is, though, he's not allowed to bitch, not one syllable, about any ARD he doesn't/can't attend. (It's been the rule since kinder when he took a pass on a parent-teacher meeting about Girl, and was unhappy with what was said, explosively saying "BULLSHIT!" at a gas pump after the meeting he "couldn't" get to. You don't show up, you live with the results, you don't bitch TO the partner because it's too much like you're bitching AT the partner.)
My rule is, if I start to feel like I'm going to cry, I'm leaving, which is a rule we both like.
I'll keep making rules until he starts remembering, 95% of the time in 5 out of 5 trials to THROW HIS EMPTY FUCKING ROOT BEER BOTTLES AWAY. (A little autism/OHI IEP humor for folks.)
I took Boy and Girl to Wally, and even though nothing happened, it still left me crabbier than before. Girl got smart and avoided further stress by starting homework on her own. We finished early enough to run a mission together in Guild Wars.
Today, I am weirdly out of sorts and meta-bitchy. Oh, I remember: King bitching about the cats, as if no other lifeform in this house (including him) has broken anything. As if the big dog he adores doesn't leave patties cows would envy. As if he is not a couch-killer, the way he flops on them. The driver's seats of both vehicles have impossible-to-adust-comfortably-vertical-because-they-are-sprung backs now because King has to lean back whenever he gets into a driver's seat. (The rest of us are equally guilty of destruction. I am guilty of not yet finishing tile work and wallboarding.)
The cat screed made me say I was glad I was leaving the broken Mason jar of glass for him to clean up.
Okay, okay, I can see how that would've colored his day.
In other news, I bought myself a new pillow, because my old one is a mere wafer of polyfill, and declared I did not want to ever have to ask anyone to give it back. MINE.
The last of the cats that require surgical surprise go in next week. This means ADOPTION TIME is HERE AGAIN. Vince and Frap had a home that fell through. Martin's adopter has one more chance. Mocha's on probation. If she doesn't stop freaking out and breaking shit, she's got to go to an only cat home.
At least Girl's inclusion assistant seems to be awesome. (I met her at school this morning while I was leaving a note for the school psych.) Oh, all right, and Girl got a Venti Frappucino instead of Tall because it was made "wrong."
And she brought me a rat to crawl on me because I needed rat therapy.
