weapons of massdistraction

Like Gayla, I too could use a TV mom right about now:

I am currently deep inside what can only be described as the greatest marathon of my life. I am at the computer literally every waking moment of the day with the exception of feeble attempts at basic hygeine and feeding myself and the cat.

I have finally figured out what it is that I need in times like these — a TV mom! Cause who the hell else is more subserviant and self-sacrificing than a TV mom? Imagine it. I can just keep plugging away while TV mom brings healthy meals and freshly brewed tea or cappuccinos right to my desk. Plus TV mom could wash my clothes, clean up my mess of papers, books, and Pantone Guides, give me hugs when I’m freaking out and just basically hold my shit together for me until I finish and can take my life back.

That would be great. Except I am the mom, though certainly not a TV-style one. The house is a disaster and the laundry is piling up, but at least I’ve been making somewhat of an effort…in the meals department. Then there are real moms out there, like this one and that one and this one, who are incredibly creative, yet still seem have their acts together. Maybe I’ll join their ranks some day. If only.
Update: Awright, he’s no teevee mom, but I should give mad props to the husband. Yesterday he prepared a Tofurky feast for us. This morning he unexpectedly brought home vegan caramel pecan rolls from Breadsmith. And the wrist brace he ordered online just yesterday for my gimpy arm, well, it arrived this afternoon by Speedy Delivery. Damned speedy, I’d say. Plus he’s been spending a little extra quality time (probably involving the PS2) with the little man so I can get some more work done. Now if the house would just automagically clean itself, I Dream of Jeannie style, then we’d be set.

Last week the hospital called. After sending our paperwork in, their triage team reviewed it and forwarded the little man’s file to the NeuroPsych people. While I know this is progress, a little voice inside is sounding the alarm. I’m sure it will be fine, and I’m hoping it will, in fact, be quite good…for all of us. After many obstacles and so much red tape things are actually starting to happen. Next Monday I’m scheduled to meet with someone regarding my child, who will help prep us for his upcoming assessment. Not really sure what to expect. In related news the little man’s IEP paperwork came home from school yesterday. It’s been rewritten to more closely fit his current needs, which is a good thing, but it can be disconcerting to see what others write about your child. Some things made me smile, like, “he prefers to play with the action toys, cars, and dramatic play things.” He certainly can be dramatic, and melodramatic, just like his mama. But the conclusion page, calling for continued special education services, cites “poor self regulation skills and language/articulation issues.” My little man is a work in progress.

It’s been one week. Not just since that which shall not be named, but since I made a discovery. That morning the husband and I went down to our polling place together, and then parted ways. He drove to the co-op, I walked to our local library to get my write on. But it hadn’t opened yet. Doh. So I made a course correction, heading to our friendly neighborhood coffee shop/bakery instead. I ordered a soy milk steamer, having already caffeinated that morning, and inquired as to whether a plain bread roll was vegan-friendly. It was not. But the kind proprietress informed me that the apple-stuffed cinnamon crispies are. All these years and I’d had no idea. This could get ugly. After all, they’re only a buck and damned tasty. But with the husband baking oodles of snickerdoodles at home, and me jonesing to crank out some pumpkin pies soon, cinnamon crispies are the last thing I need. To make things worse, we’ve just discovered that Breadsmith makes vegan pecan rolls. As soon as I heard the news, around 7:30 Sunday morning, I hopped in the shower, then loaded the family into the car. We arrived just after they’d opened for the morning but learned that the vegan pecan rolls are only available on Saturdays and Thursdays. That’s probably for the best. Our consolation prize that morning? The vegan chocolate babka. We’re riding into the danger zone. Dam my sweet tooth, dam it all to hell.
NaNo word count: 14007/50000

It’s not Dave’s fault, but his DSL has been flaky today. Which means my sites, that he hosts for free, have been up and down all morning and it’s making me feel ill. Sad but true. Took my mind off it for a little while by having a family outing to the library, where we met up with our favorite neighbors to check out a juggling performance…which I failed to document photographically. Doh. Now that we’re home again it’s time to perform triage on my To Do list. Lunch first. Then writing, cleaning, client work, and more writing. Perhaps in that order.

Not on the To Do list…the Le Tigre show tonight. I would like to take the little man to it. He has seen them before, after all, but that was outdoors. Sigh. I do love them so, and I worry about turnout…after having their show originally scheduled at a venue that’s suddenly gone bankrupt, and now moved a few blocks over to a much less popular spot. Plus they’re playing in the smaller Ascot Room at the same time The Donnas are headlining in the big room. Haven’t seen the latter since they opened for Bratmobile a few years back, but I would take Le Tigre over them any day. Go if you can, and then tell me about it. I need someone to live vicariously through.
Bonus: Below, photos from yesterday’s visit to the Children’s Museum.
NaNo word count: 11738/50000
Update: Because I suck and don’t have comments Cheek emailed to tell the Le Tigre show was cancelled outright after all. If I couldn’t see them, no one could. Or something.

This week has been like a speeding bullet-train. Most folks love Fridays, but I am completely unprepared for it to be here already. Monday through Thursday I’d really gotten into my new morning routine. Get dressed, get the little man ready and on the school bus, get ass out of house to write. Fridays, though, the little man doesn’t have class. So far all I’ve accomplished today is getting him dressed, and making pancakes and coffee. Feeling a tidge stressed. Not sure how I’m going to meet my word count today, or all weekend really.
And the house is a freaking disaster.
Client work is waiting to be taken care of.
I’ve promised the little man a Children’s Museum visit.
And I’ve neglected to line up childcare for this evening, in order to attend Chuck’s premiere of Blogumentary. Speaking of which…

Chuck Olsen takes the first-person doc into the blogosphere. Blurb:

Blogumentary, a clever mix of documentary film and online weblog, makes the case that many of the important conversations in politics and media in recent years have either originated with or been disseminated by independent online publishers–a.k.a. bloggers. Directed by Twin Cities-based blogger/filmmaker Chuck Olsen, the movie goes further to suggest that blogging has nudged the mass media out of its dogmatic slumber and into a new form of conversational journalism even as indie blogs remain busy connecting regular people and important ideas in ways never before imagined.

Briefly I contemplated bringing the little man along. I think he might appear in it, after all, for about three seconds. But I wouldn’t inflict that upon others. The next time I take him to a movie theater it will be to see The Incredibles. But we’re waiting until Monday afternoon for that. I hate waiting.
Bonus: Afro-ninja’s identity revealed? Perhaps. Whoever he is, I can’t decide whether seeing Afro-ninja vs. Laserhead would make him feel better…or worse. Personally contemplating moves to London and/or China. Enjoying Thomas Schlijper’s photography.