Yeah, I know... I've been cave dwelling once again. Sometimes, I just need to get away and hide beneath the covers for a while.

We've almost completed the first month of school here and my house already looks like a classroom exploded - because, you know, every tiny scrap of paper my spawnling touches must come home each week for me to go through. Not that I don't appreciate knowing how the Doodlebug is doing in class - I do - but is it truly necessary to send hom ALL the papers he drew super heroes, submarines, and monster trucks on as well? Seriously... I already have a mad explosion of those drawings on file. And in my office. And on my kitchen table. And littering the dark spooky corners of his room where even dust bunnies refuse to dwell.

While I'm on the subject of paper -- Do I really need fifty bajillion flyers advertising the New! Upcoming! Cheerleader! Camp! For! Girls! Umm... I have a boy, folks. A boy who has NO interest in cheerleading or drill team dancing or Girl Scouts or any other girly type activities. And they wonder where all the trees have gone...

The Shaggy-Headed Teenager, on the other hand, apparently has no school work... or at least none he's willing to share with me. He's at that point in life where, really, having your Mom go through your school work is a bit of an insult. He tells me he's doing his homework and he announces how he's done on tests when he gets home from school. For example:

Shaggy: Umm, Mom? Yeah, I sort of failed my vocabulary test the other day because I forgot to study.
Me: How can you forget to study? You sit in your room every evening and do homework. Do you not do homework? Do you not know when you have homework in every class?
Shaggy: I do! I just forgot about English.
Me: How can you forget about English? You go there every other day, right? Do you forget that you go to class?
Shaggy: It's all those AP and Pre-AP classes I'm taking! They have a lot of work so I forget the easy classes.
Me: Okay, that just lacks common sense. If it's an easy class, it should be an easy task to remember the easy homework.
Shaggy: *shrug* Well, I might not have failed it. I just think I didn't do so great.
Me: So you don't even have a grade yet?
Shaggy: No. Actually, I might have done really well on it and just don't know it yet.
Me: *drags him to kitchen table and shows him how to make a To-Do lists*

Even so, I'm fairly sure his grades will be right on target. He's a bit OCD about his grade point average because he's all fired up to get into Texas A&M for college.... so, no matter how lackadaisical he seems about stuff, he's studying his butt off. Just not when I'm looking. I count it as a lesson in my having faith in his choices. A primer, you might say, so when I look out the kitchen window and see him behind the wheel of my truck attempting to pull into my somewhat tricky driveway, while not taking out my feed shed in the process... or his father, who's standing there grinning like a loon and waving at me... I don't completely lose my shit. I take deep breaths and have faith that he didn't just carry that driver's manual around in his back pocket for months on end; he actually READ it, too.

For the record - he didn't take out the shed but I really thought Mr. Clean was a goner when he put it in reverse to make his third attempt at pulling into the parking spot straight. Folks, I have a little more than 3 months reprieve before this kid is in Driver's Ed and I am NOT ready to handle this type of thing yet.

Sex? Yes. Drugs? Sure. All over it. Kissing girls? Yeah. Why not. Driving? Get out of here and don't say that word again.

Lucky for me, Doodlebug's interests are much tamer than engines and driver's licenses. Yesterday he approached me, wanting to know what his first name means. When we named the boy, it was not a popular name. In fact, it was considered a bit odd. Now, however, it's become uber-popular due to a certain character on a certain TV show that has everyone swooning. Good Lord.

So, we looked up his name online and what it means (note: I KNOW what it means but my spawnlings are a bit cynical like their mother so they like to see things in print. Proof, if you will.). While pointing out the meaning of his name, his eyes gravitated to a little 3D picture of an embryo and said, "Wow, that's cool. You can see what babies look like each week they're in your belly!"

So we clicked on the link and entered into the online science of babies. Wheeeeeee!

First up was a picture of an egg and a sperm digging it's way on in there. Luckily, we've already had this discussion so there were no questions. We did have to have a lengthy discussion on why all of the early embryos had tails, however, and had to take a quick break so he could run look at his naked rear in a mirror to make sure that - indeed - there was no tail there now. Fun!

When we reached something like Week 5 or 6, he commented, "So I was as small as an ant?" Then he shook his head, drew his eyebrows together, and placed a finger at his temple, contemplating. Finally, a light bulb went off and he said, "No! I was just knee-high to an ant!" That's my boy... knee-high to an ant.

And that's about how I've been feeling this past couple of weeks - hence my disappearance from the blogging world.

All my scenes blocked, I have little else to do except Write the damn thing... except... I have not been writing. What I have been doing? Playing so much Sudoku, I've given myself a brain injury. Truly. I've spent the last week and a half trying to identify why I keep having dizzy spells and blurred vision and just basically walk around feeling like shit. I've speculated that perhaps I have diabetes or a brain tumor or some unknown freaky condition that is sure to kill me. And then:

Mr. Clean: Are you writing a lot on the computer? I hear you late at night typing. Perhaps, you should go back to paper.. you know it jacks with your eyesight to sit at the computer 12 hours a day.
Me: *shaking head*
Mr. Clean: Well, what are you doing then?
Me (whispering): Sudoku.
Mr. Clean: What?
Me: Sudoku
Mr. Clean: Oh, so you've given yourself Bubble Shooter brain with a new game, eh? (and then he laughs)

It's true. All that left-right-up-down-quick-as-a-rabbit eye movement while trying to get the numbers and beat everyone else's best times... it's hurting my head. And my eyes. And my sleeping patterns.

SO why do I do it? I've spent a lot of time thinking about that and have decided the only way to get rid of the reason is to announce it. Here. Please excuse my red-faced shame.

I am afraid that if I start writing, it'll be just another manuscript I don't finish.

There. I said it. I realize it's completely stupid and utterly ridiculous but there it is. I have quit my Sudoku addiction cold (Rough, folks.. really rough!). I haven't yet picked up a pen but I did spend all day pulling pictures of people who look like my characters and have had a few conversations with them in my brain. They're chomping at the bit. I'm shuffling on down to the starting gate a little slower but I'll be there soon. And hopefully, when the starting bell rings, I'll pop out of that gate feeling ten feet tall. This knee-high to an ant crap isn't fun.

P.S. I know I've been crap on answering comments here lately, too. Fairy - I am SO glad you like my lint. *grin* Katkin - Really happy the cupcakes turned out well! And Deb - I really, really, really wish someone would pick the B4B torch up and run with it again. Just not me. LOL
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2 Responses
  1. BabySis Says:

    Ok.. so I am the one now updating my blog.... Lacky. lol

  2. Dancinfairy Says:

    You should write a list like mine - it was so much fun! Good to write something again anyway. You are already one of my Nano writing buddies - did I do that last year? I am Dancinfairy anyway!