Mom to the Screaming Masses

Summer Camp For Me

When I was young, I went to summer camp every year. Day camp for a month - my mom worked there - and sleep away camp for at least a week. My mom insisted that my sisters and I go away the same week - really, can you imagine???? - and we really looked forward to it. We spent tons of time looking through the Girl Scout brochure, planning which specialty we'd pick - I remember one year picking biking, even though all I did was bike around my neighborhood, and the last bike run of the week was about 30 miles - I rode the second half in the back of a pick up truck.

I was so not the biking type.

I don't know that I've ever sent my kids to summer camp. They've been to Vacation Bible school, but other than that and a few rotations that my boys did for day camp while in the Boy Scouts - they've stayed home.

This year, I'm going to summer camp.

I'm going to Harley-Davidson camp.

I know. I KNOW.

I get many fun opportunities thanks to this blog, and for those opportunities, I have you, my readers, to thank. Because you come here and read my thoughts and turmoil. You leave comments, like my Facebook page, and recommend me, and so I am offered some of the most enjoyable and fun chances I've ever had in my life. This 4 day camp is a dream come true for me. I get to go to Harley Camp with some of the most amazing women I've ever met - seriously, Kelly wrote an AMAZING post, in which she profiles each of the women who are lucky enough to take part in this awesome, exciting week.

If you want to know what's going on a Harley Camp almost immediately, follow me on Instagram or Twitter, or like the Facebook page for this blog.

I'm not a total newbie to the bike riding world, but I haven't ridden since I was about 12. My dad had a motorcycle and I rode with him. That was a long time ago, and I'm pretty nervous about crashing and falling off and road rash and screaming like a little baby.

Hold me, Internets. Hold me.

I'M GOING TO HARLEY CAMP!!!!

Disclosure: Blogher and Harley-Davidson are compensating me for my participation in Harley-Davidson Summer Camp - #hdsc.

You Might Not Want to be My Friend After You Read This

I like to think of myself as a nice person. A kind person. If you drop something, I'll help you pick it up. If you need something, I'll help you acquire it. Hungry? I'll make you food. I'll watch your kids - within reason, hey, I didn't say I was a saint, there! - and, you know, I am just a nice person. So say I.

SOME people may beg to differ. Seth is one of them.

When I was away at the car driving event, I ended up hanging out with a group of five other crazy slightly insane certifiable very kind individuals.

I think they felt sorry for me. It was kind of like a pity, "Come and join us. We are slightly awkward, but not as bad as you. No one else will take you" kind of scenario. It's cool. I'll take what I can get.

Irrational Fears

When I was pregnant with my first child, my hsuband forbade me to put any clowns in his room.

He thought that they were creepy.

I didn't get it at the time. Now, I understand. I don't like clowns myself. At all.

When I was a kid, I thought that if I walked too close to the sewer drains, I'd fall down them. I had a plan in my head for how I'd alert people to my "under their feet" presence.

Yes. I read "It" by Stephen King. I still can't be in the shower if the water is not running. I have to get out right!away!

I remembered this when I went for a walk today and ended up sliding over towards the drain to get away from a too fast car.

I used to worry about getting my foot stuck in an escalator. And then, one day, I did.

What are your truly irrational fears - the ones that you know *probably* won't happen, but still might, and so you keep them in the back of your mind?

I'm SO Glad That I Have Someone There to Tell Me What I Need

Total tongue in cheek on that one.

Yesterday I decided to refill my prescription for my migraine medication. I try to avoid filling this particular prescription, as it's a third tier medication and so quite expensive. I fill ten or so prescriptions a month, and many of them are second or third tier, so our medication costs are pretty spendy. The vast majority of those meds are asthma meds - apparently, breathing easy is not an option.

Who knew?

I called the refill line, entered the prescription number plus one other, and went on with my day. I took a kid to a doctor's appt, where she was prescribed a different medication - goooooo, us! - and then decided to go to the store and get the meds.

On the way, I checked my messages. I had one from the doctor who had given me the migraine med, who told me that they'd authorized the refill, but I needed to come in for a check up. Yeah. I know. I'm overdue. Maybe when school is out. They also want me to have an MRI. Which my percentage is $1600. I know this because my daughter had one last year.

I'll get right on that.

Booty Shorts in the Rain Forest

Pictures or it didn't happen.

It's a common refrain 'round here.

I'm sure you know what it means, but if not - I don't believe what you are telling me unless I see it with my own eyes.

When we were in Puerto Rico (yes, I'm still talking about this trip, what can I say, a LOT of stuff happened on it!) we were given the opportunity to choose from two tours. We didn't have to take either - we could have stayed at the hotel and hung out by the pool - which was my choice. But the husband and I, we vacay differently.

In his opinion, rest is for the weak and the dead. On vacay, you see everything everywhere that you possibly can. I go away to sleep. And to lay by the pool. And sleep some more.

Manners and Children - Especially Boys

I am quite certain that I am opening up a can of worms here.

Schwick. (That's totally the sound of a pop top opening.)

But when did manners go out of style? I mean, I've heard people - mostly older - lament the lack of manners for years. I've tried, with a variety of success, to instill manners in my children. To say " yes ma'am" and " no sir", to hold the door and to avoid interrupting other people - especially adults.

I've been somewhat, moderately successful.

That is, I'm required to remind them at least once, but often that is all that is required. I definitely do not count myself an authority in this. But at least I'm trying. I need to give myself credit for that.I receive compliments on my children's PUBLIC behavior and that makes me happy - it's not a compliment for me but really for them.  I see parents who don't value manners as much as I do, and although it makes me irritable - that's not the topic of this post.

When did it become A-OK for grownups to completely avoid manners when it comes to children - especially those who are not their own?

This story is 100% true. I'm not proud of the lack of manners which I exhibited.

In the Dark of the Night, The BoogeyMan Will Get You

It's not a big secret that I have a tough time sleeping. I don't struggle falling asleep, but the actual staying asleep eludes me daily. It's not uncommon for me to be awake 4 or more times a night, and each time I might stay awake 5 minutes or an hour. There's no rhyme or reason.

This week was an especially brutal one for me, sleep wise. Often, my husband comes home when I've gone to sleep early and, as he's a good guy and loves to stay up very late - he stays downstairs.

I'm fairly grumpy when I'm woken - and he has a heavy snoring habit.

Roller Coasters Do Not Thrill Me

And neither do black tunnels. And today was a day that was, mostly, a ride of deep darkness through a black, downward spiral of a tunnel.

I just do not know how much more I can take of this.

My two atypical (neuro a typical, which I'm not quite sure is the correct terminology, but I'm too fried to care) are both floundering, and I'm really tired of dealing with it. Yes. I know. It could be WORSE. Thank you. I've heard that before. And YES, I know, you see very little evidence of this at school. I'm delighted for you. You have NO idea HOW delighted I am for you. Can I BE YOU?

Because me? I see it in SPADES AT HOME.

I've Officially Lost My &*#%@ Mind

After I picked up Thing 1 and Thing 2 from their after school choir practice, I decided to stop at the store. I needed to pick up several items that I needed for Thanksgiving day and, as I'm still under the weather, I didn't want to go home and then have to go back out. So we just decided that we'd stop quickly. it wasn't the best time for me to stop at the store, being that it's a) two days before a big holiday and b) it was about 4:30 - prime grocery store time.

The girls were excited to be out of school and full of vim and vigor, and I was - let's face it, tired and wiped out and still under the weather (yes, I'm on day 6) - and it was a constant refrain - "Come back here, you can't walk along the sides of the cart, no, you can't get cheese sticks/pirate booty/yogurt tubes - only what's on the list. Come back here!" I was tired when we made it to the self check out.

Knock Down Drag Out Living Room Fight

Yesterday was a rough day for my two youngest. They came home cranky, out of sorts, passing around tears like they were cookies and growling at anyone who looked in their direction.

I'm pretty sure it was due to a lack of sleep. Once I tuck them in at night, they are allowed to read for 30 minutes, but more than a few nights I forget to go back and tell them to turn off the lights - and there have been nights when I go up stairs at 10 and see lights on and pages being turned. I really like that my kids love to read - but, hello. Bedtime is bedtime.

Back to the story at hand.