Sweet Thursday - NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's Friday, and this Friday is so much better than Thursday.  Yesterday was one of those days where being an adult was just plain hard.

It started right out of the blocks with my Keurig Coffee Maker not working.  So instantly I am chemically imbalanced.  In spite of the caffine deficit Tina and I were still able to get Amanda ready and delivered to school.  Thank goodness for the close proximety because I wouldn't have made it much further than I did.

After dropping her off I went to McDonalds and bought two large black coffees and an egg McMuffin.  I was starving and snarfed it on the drive home.  At the house I gave Tina her coffee and I had mine.  The chocolate carmel creamer was good enough, but I like mixing it with the German Chocolate Cake flavored coffee.    I showevered and dressed but was too tired to shave.  Then I had to find my flash drive.  I had a few files on it that I didn't back up the night before and I needed them.  I know I should back up daily, and most of the time I do, but this time I didn't and that is why I couldn't find my flash drive.

I looked all over the house for it, lost my coffee twice trying to find it, and became some sort of contorsonist looking in my car for the thing.  I did not find it.

I had posted on Facebook that I was a quart low on my coffee level.  People were saying they wanted to go home and were putting out advice on how to survive the coming calamity, it was embaressing, but at least I now know who fears me.

After my meeting I went home and called Keurig.  I spoke with technical support for twenty minutes.  After everything failed they offered to sell me a knew one at $130.  When they said they couldn't have it to me in an hour I said I would handle it on my own.  By that I mean, Tina bought us a new one after lunch.

It was after said lunch where I ate everything I could get my hands on that I returned home and looked through my house one more time for the flashdrive.  I was alone so the rising tide of profanities that was spewing out of mouth only injured the ficus tree in the corner.  Tina says the plant is a fake so it should be okay.

I looked on my dresser for the fifth time and in the charger station one more time and there it was in the shadow of a corner on its side where I could only see the black edge.  My attitude instantly improved as did my language.

The coffee level was still low but I had another cup at work and hoped for the best.  I stayed sequestered in my office the remainder of the afternoon because I knew I just wasn't quite level.

The evening went well.  Amanda and I watched a couple across the street chasing their 2 year old.  The mom asked if we wanted an extra child.  I said no thank you.  Amanda was blunter than that, "NO NEED WILD CHILD!"

If she would have seen her daddy at one o'clock in the afternoon  she would have said, "NO NEED CRAZY DADDY!"

This morning I had GREAT coffee and a lot it.  A good workout and a nice day at the office.  Plus, everything is backed up.

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I am hyper sensitive to noise. I cannot stand tapping, clicking, dripping, thumps, grinds, tinkling, crunching, creaking, smacking, slurping, ticking or tocking. I also do not like to hear ANYTHING when I'm concentrating other than my own thoughts or background music of my own choosing. I do not want to hear conversations, bits of conversations, a TV show, a talk radio program, music that I did not choose, sneezing, coughing, throat clearing, laughing, sniffling, or snapping.

At times this sensitivity makes me very unpopular at work, at home or any other place I may be. People do tend to like it when I close my door and wear a set of headphones with my Pandora jazz station playing as I work on a bid or letter.

So because karma has a cruel streak about as wide as the Mississippi River during a spring flood, Amanda does not have what you would call an inside voice. It has taken her years to develope speech equal to a four year old, and she now speaks loud and proud.

I will tell her to use her in side voice and she will whisper, "ok." Not thirty seconds later she will sound like a drunk in the audience at a club yelling "FREEBIRD!" to the band.

My wife, who happens to be a rather noisy person, at least by my standards, has noticed it too. She also believes it is my fault simply because I complain too much about noise in general.

job descriptions

While getting Amanda ready for school this morning I commented on how tall she was getting. She is now almost 4'10" so I said, "I think you're tall enough to change the light bulbs in the house."

Her reply was, "not my job."

So I asked her, "Well, what is your job around here?"

And she promptly said, "Look cute."

An animated irony

I'll be 40 years old in May and I'm OK with that. Most of my friends are older than me, my wife is 41, age is just a number. In fact, in many ways I am still very child like. A big facet of this is that I love animation.

I'm not so much a Loony Toons or Tom & Jerry kind of fan, I did grow past that years ago. But people who really know me know that I would rather sit and watch Toy Story than Child's Play. In high school I watched GI Joe, much to my girlfriend's dismay. In college Tina and I were the only two people in the theater to see The Little Mermaid.

But the irony of my enjoyment for animated films is that my daughter has a condition called Optic Nerve Hypoplasia. This condition leaves her visually impaired and mentally delayed as well as extremely sensitive to sound. Needless to say, she doesn't like the busy world of animation, particularly "Finding Nemo." And one of the big things I was looking forward to when I found out I was going to be a father was watching Disney and Pixar movies with my child.

But, when life gives you lemons you should make some lemonade and break out some vodka too. Amanda does have some movies that she likes: Cheaper By The Dozen and it's sequel are top of the list, Yours, Mine and Ours, The Sandlot I, II, and III, Madeline, and finally a little animation with Mary Poppins.

And then there is the Peanuts. The Charlie Brown Cartoons do not attempt to be three dimensional and the conversations are slow enough that she can follow by herself. We have every one on DVD and I have loaded even more onto my I-pods.

And finally there is the fact that she only watches these movies when she is ready for bed. She seldom sees the end of a movie but the 22 minute Peanuts really help her unwind.

My only problem is I have a copy of Wall-E that I borrowed from my nephew more than three months ago and I just can't seem to find the time to myself to watch it.

Maybe bettern than an X-man

As I’ve stated, I’m not quite an X-man, but last night I would like to see Wolverine handle what was thrown at me. As it says in my blog profile, I am a parent of a special needs child. She is both mentally and physically challenged and the two conditions compound the complexity of her care.
At 1 AM I awoke to my wife getting out of bed and heading towards our daughter’s room. That means she heard something so I immediately followed, what we found was that Amanda had thrown up her spaghetti dinner from six hours before. Dawning latex gloves, which we keep in the room, we proceeded to attack the situation. Tina went and turned on the bath; I undressed and wiped down Amanda with a shirt that was all ready totaled. We have a house rule that we don’t salvage vomit clothing or linens. I then got Amanda to the shower and washed one very nasty smelling child. Afterwards Tina dressed her in new pajamas and I bagged the pillows and sheets from the bed. A good rule to follow is never go through my garbage, it just wouldn’t be worth it.
I brushed Amanda’s teeth and we moved her into the guest room which is always set up as a spare for just such an emergency. Old towels were placed over the pillows and a large bowl was brought in case this was more than just a onetime evacuation. Now came gut check time for myself. I had to lay down with Amanda and get her back to sleep. At first she was on her right side facing away from me, which is just the way you want it in these situations. Although she fell asleep quickly while telling her our version of Little Red Riding Hood, it was restless and full over kicking and rolling. Soon she was face to face with me. Now here I am, staring straight out 10 year old who had just vomited her marinara soaked dinner only an hour ago. Would she project again? Her history told me I had a 50/50 chance, but the way my luck had been lately I figured I was about to be ruined. But then fate intervened and she took a southerly route and had a BM in her pull up followed by a huge sigh of relief. So, it is now almost 3 AM and I am dawning latex gloves for the second time last night. I have her cleaned and back in a new pull up in under two minutes. Her breathing goes to a normal rate and she is quickly asleep.
I’m a veteran of such nights and I know how the rest of this will go down. She will sleep until the morning and I need to take advantage of that as best I can. So I retire back to my bed and bring Tina up to speed. We fall asleep for what feels like hours but is really only twenty minutes and I get up and check on Amanda again, she is fine. Back to bed for the rest of night but again it is really only twenty minutes and I check on Amanda and once again she is fine.
It is now 4 AM and I need to sleep, so it is back to bed. At 4:30 Tina tells me there is a spider in the bathroom. Finally, something easy. Armed with a slipper I smack the invader, put him in tissue and flush him because you can’t be too careful with spiders.
At 6:30 Amanda is awake for the day. A second full pull up and I dawn latex gloves for the third time in less than six hours, but she is feeling fine now and we can get on with our day.
It goes well for three hours until she does something with a full coffee cup, but that is a totally different subject.
The reason Wolverine can’t handle this like I can is twofold. First of all, rage is counterproductive to the mission at hand, and secondly his claws would not allow the latex gloves to perform up to maximum effectiveness.