Still here!

I am writing a quick post now.  The family has descended from various points afar.  Most, if not all (I still have to take a final inventory) of the shopping is done.  None of the wrapping is.  Mozart is charming Nana, Grandad and Globetrotter to pieces.  He's loving having them here.  The Wife is holding up well.  As am I!  Must go brine a turkey - or prep it is someway for roasting tonight when we return from Historic Deerfield and seeing Sanda - again!

Regaining normal - sort of.

My thoughts are still with those families.  Throughout the day I would see something on Facebook, hear something on the radio, or just look at Mozart and be reminded of all those innocent lives lost.  Tears would well, I would kiss my boy or say a silent blessing for his safety and prayer for those families and try desperately to get back to normal.

Since I've been sick, I really haven't done any cooking more complicated than opening a can of chicken soup.  Tonight I decided that was going to have to change. And when I'm feeling the need for comfort, I feel like pasta.  And bacon.  So I hauled Mozart off to the store and got the fixings for Chicken Gorganzola Carbonara with Bacon.  I have tried to turn the Boy onto bacon before.  Once, when we were in Oregon, I ordered him a lovely breakfast complete with bacon.  He wanted nothing to do with it.  Turned his nose up. Well, let me tell you how things have changed.  He still can't say the word - for some reason it comes out "mec" (I have no idea), but that's about all he wanted tonight. Since the Wife wouldn't have any, he got hers.  And some of mine.  Yes.  Life is good with bacon.

But then I clean up from dinner and open Facebook and it all comes rushing back.  I still haven't been able to put many words to my feelings, but the following are some of the things that struck me from my feed. 

It seems so overindulgent to post something like this right now when there are so many people hurting but I'm really concerned that in our need to have easy answers and understand "why" for everything, that mental health is becoming the cop out to a complicated situation. I think its wonderful that mental health is getting attention considering its a problem that is SO important and isn't often talked about. But there are other hard to face things we need to look at, our love of violence, and exposure to it in many cases since childhood, our lack of empathy, our easy access to guns, our self entitlement and anger. We not only have mass shootings that rightfully so get attention, on a daily basis our friends and loved ones are killed by gun violence, or all to often simply by accident. In my daily life i come across so much random anger, the idea of more people with more guns terrifies me. Yes its the people and not the "guns" and that's the scariest part. ~ I.M.

I'm frustrated at our utterly broken mental health system. None of these mass shooters have been "right in the head".....but how the f*** do these folks get access to guns, anyway? I might be opening a can of worms here, but I DO believe that making gun ownership a little harder to achieve would weed out some of the mentally ill from accessing firearms. Yes, I think that while some would complain about "rights", but I'm seeing these news reports about a CLEARLY mentally ill person who killed himself, his mother, 20 schoolchildren, and 6 other adults.

Some people say that they are glad that the shooter killed himself. Others say they wish the young man had received "discipline" in the jail system. I wish none of this had ever happened at all, and that the mental health system, plus restricting this man's ability to access firearms, had been successful in preventing this tragedy. Please do remember that although the shooter killed his mother, he has a grieving father and brother, too. 27, not 26, people died yesterday. I know people are sad and angry, and so am I. But this did not have to happen at all.   ~ M.C.

Worst potential outcome of existing gun laws: mentally ill people get their hands on combat weapons and kill innocent people.

Worst potential outcome of hoped-for gay laws: happy adults get families.

And yet who has their rights ardently protected by every lawmaker in the land?

I'm sorry, I can't hear your complaints about your super-fun assault weapons being potentially taken away through the LOUD VIOLINS PLAYING IN MY HEAD. ~ C.M.

I believe, and have to believe in order to continue living on this world, that we all have the capacity to spread peace and love. I also believe it's our responsibility as members of the earth to approach each day with open hearts and hope and ask " How can I be Love today?" and then act. I believe each small act has the potential to lead to a bigger, wholer goodness and I also believe when tragedy hits, activating this conscious love for others is one way to heal.  ~ E.T.

To Anyone saying that 20 children died because god isn't allowed in schools should be completely ashamed of themselves. How dare you say such an ignorant and callous statement. Shame On You. ~ S.B.F.

From the still, peaceful place in your heart, send loving thoughts, prayers to the good people of Newtown and all who are touched by this tragedy. Reach out in kindness to those who appear lost, distressed, alone. Support better care for those with mental illness. Lobby against violence in entertainment and to close loopholes in gun control laws. Continue to be compassionate. ~ C.S.

I am so very afraid that all the attention, the endless media coverage, the chatter is planting the seeds for next time. ~ M.B.T.

Seeing people in multiple continents and countries on my FB, and all are united, a world community, grieving for our neighboring state of CT and the atrocities that occurred there today. So close to home for us MA teachers. ~ T.M.T.

I don't want to turn on the tv. I don't want to turn on the laptop. I just want to go get my child and stay in the house for days. My mind won't stop thinking of all the pain and devastation so many are feeling right now. Worst week ever. ~ E.P.T.

Why did it take us so long to become horrified by violence? Children and young adults have been getting murdered left and right in this country for years. Having had a brother murdered (who was a young adult) I am no stranger to violence. The violence has always been here, we ignored it when it wasn't us- but as it has seeped into whoever us is, movie theaters, schools, colleges we started paying attention. We are not immune, but it was easy to say those things don't happen here. Well guess what they do. They have been. I heard on the news someone saying, "this was a good school, those things don't happen here" well they shouldn't happen anywhere to any child or person. And the reality is that many of our kids continue to die, they won't be remembered bc they did not die in a "mass shooting" but they did die in mass violence. ~ M.L.

There is absolutely no reason that a private citizen should be able to buy a weapon with the capacity to fire a hundred rounds in the span of a minute.

Such a weapon is not simply for protecting yourself, and it's not for shooting your dinner. I'm sympathetic to gun rights based on the number of legitimate, game-eating hunters I know, but sorry, the authors of the Bill of Rights did NOT envision semi-automatics and our laws should not protect their purchase. ~ C.M. 

 There were many more things that people said that were both thought-provoking and quote-worthy.  Some anger me, some make me fearful, some give me hope, some make me cry.  I'm trying to focus on those that give me hope.  But at the same time not forget the others, for that is where change will come from.

Kiss your babies and tell them you love them.

I went through most of the day blissfully unaware of the events that took place in Newtown, CT today.   Since I learned of it, though, I have been in and out of tears.  Disbelief. Anger.  More tears.  As happens when I'm upset, I'm at a loss for words.  I had to go about my afternoon and get things done, but I just wanted to get to my boy and hug him and tell him I love him and I'll do the very best that I can to keep him safe.

Whenever this happens, a mass shooting - something that is getting a little too familiar these days - I go to this place of disbelief.  But today was different.  Worse.  How?  Just how, could anybody shoot up an elementary school?  They are kids!  We are supposed to protect them!  And then I think about the parents of those babies and I cry again. 

Mouse!

Mozart's thing these days is Stuart Little - well, Elmo and Stuart Little.  It could be worse, really.  I think it's a cute video.  And it's a good thing 'cuz over the past week we must have watched it at least 15 times. I always strove to be one of those moms whose kids don't know what t.v. is.  And, really, I still do.  But that has gone by the wayside because, what can I say, if it affords a Mama a bit of worry-free rest, it's worth its weight in gold. 

So along with this new-found obsession of his, he has taken to saying, "Mas!  Mas! Mas!"  Somewhat constantly.  For some time, I wondered where he learned the Spanish word for more.  The context always seemed to fit.  But then I realized it was really "Mouse!" that he was saying.  He's eating and he says, mas.  He's playing with his toys and he says, mas.  He looks in my belly button, and you guessed it, he says, mas.  In the dryer, mas.  In his shoe basket, mas.  Down his pants, mas (he's a boy, what can I say).  In the toilet, mas.  Yeah, you get the picture. 

So this morning we are going through the usual routine.  Kind of, for I went to work for the first time in a week today, and was doing the routine myself as the Wife is now down with this terrible flu.  As I'm getting Mozart ready he has a toy truck and is talking about mouse this and mouse that and can we watch mouse, etc, etc.  I am in kind of a hurried daze as I'm trying to dress him and make myself look presentable. 

I manage to get him fully outfitted and put him down, making my way into this odd little room we call the dressing room (it contains several sets of drawers, a bureau, an open wardrobe and a vanity) to, well, get dressed.  Mozart tags along behind me and I am wishing he would stop asking to watch mouse and just play with his toys.  As I am putting the iron away, I note that he suddenly looks very interested in his toys that are strewn about as he toddles over to them saying, "Mas!" 

I let out a sigh of relief, and follow this by an immediate shriek.  Mozart has bent over and is holding in both of his chubby little hands A MOUSE!  And I don't mean a toy mouse here folks, no, this is no Stuart Little, this is a for-real-kind-of-vermin-mouse!  And instinct takes over and I swipe it out of his hands, and now I'M HOLDING THE MOUSE!!  With my bare hands!  Ack!!!  I scream to the Wife that she's got to get up and wash the Boy's hands immediately because he just had a mouse in 'em and now I've got to do something with it!  Bless her, she moved faster than I've ever seen her get out of bed ever before.

I took the little beast outside.  I realized as I was doing so that it was dead as it was a) not moving and b) cold.  I also realized that it was quite soft, poor thing, and no wonder why Mozart was so thrilled.  He probably thought it was a new stuffed toy.  I am just glad that I was paying attention enough to have grabbed the thing from him before he kissed it.  He's also very into kissing things lately...

Fighting Chance

This arsenal is finally kicking Flu in the butt.

Flu - still

Still got it. The Boy is ok. Thank the Goddess.  Mommy is down. I've never missed this much work at one time. We are keeping Healthy Choice in business - on our 2nd case of chicken soup.

Flu - bleh

Mozart got a clean bill of health today.  I was not so lucky. 

Freezing cold, shivering, hot sweats, prickly skin, achey joints, headachey, super thirsty, but don't want to drink anything, slightly queasy, no goodness.

And seriously.  How is it I can be so hot and feel like the marrow in my bones is freezing at the same time?

Snow!

I was going to add this to the Mr. Personality post, but in my hurried delirium, I forgot.  It snowed for the first time this year the other day.  Mozart doesn't remember the snow from last year.  That morning, when I went in to get him he was fussing and generally inconsolable.  I picked him up and went to open the shades.  He stopped his fuss abruptly, pointed out the window, and declared, "Floor!"  Not knowing the name for 'ground' it was still clear that he had to make sure I understood something had changed int he world.  Throughout the morning we talked about snow and how that was the white stuff all over the ground and how it was now officially winter and that it is wonderful and that, even so, Mama doesn't like it very much, but it's still magical - means Santa's coming you know - and kids generally do.

Later in the morning, it started to snow again.  Big, beautiful, fluffy flakes.  I opened the back door to take out some recycling and Mozart trailed me out.  He looked out and, a little bit started, jumped up and down, pointing at the snowflakes, and repeated, "Boom!  Boom!  Boom!"  While the snowflakes weren't exactly crashing down to the ground, they were clearly falling from the sky with great magnificence.  And Mozart pointed out this happening with the import that it holds to him.  My heart just about lept out of my chest with love for this little guy. 

I was trying to get stuff done much of the day and before you know it, night had fallen. Feeling a bit bad about not taking him out on the first snowy day, I thought we could at least sweep of the porch together, so we went out in our slippers and with our brooms, and AHOY!  Neighbor friend of 8 comes over with his sled and asks if Mozart would like a ride.  And that topped of a very fine first day of remembered snow for the little man.

Lazy morning.

Good Heavens, I slept until 10:46!!  I did wake up at 6 to get the Boy, but the Wife took over when he wouldn't be accommodating to continued rest.  And then I dreamed I was in the countryside in France enjoying a lovely meal with some very nice wines.  And then I dreamed I headed off to Paris for the day and learned that the hottest new style is "Homeless Chicque" - derived from having large backpacks full of seemingly everything and a blanket looped the belt - all to facilitate the ability to go all places on foot or by bicycle rather than cars.  Just when I began to dream that I was paralyzed (this happens often for me when I've slept too long), I woke up.   The Boy was watching "Charlie Brown's Christmas" and the Wife had cleared the toy corner out to make way for the tree.  We may just be tree hunting this afternoon.
 
Mozart took his last dose of Prednisone yesterday, and his is nearly himself today - can I have a YIPPEEEE!?!  He did learn some bad habits having been in a 'roid rage the past week, but it is so nice to have him back!

Mr. Personality

I started this post yesterday, but crashed before I could really even get started.  This is how far I got:

Fart. Screech. Fling. Y. dinner. Pizza box, Where'd it go? Fling. 4. Yeah-yeah-yeah! Want one - sink, no. Snake, yes.

Really, as you can see, it's just a list of reminders for me. This is usually how I thing of my blog posts before I write them out, but this time I was afraid if I didn't write it out I'd lose it. I thought it funny when I opened it up again, so thought I'd share.

Thing is, Mozart is still on those crazy meds, and while this kid has personality on any old day, it is a bit amped up when he is so wired.   I had a busy day yesterday and found myself on the daycare side of town with errands still to do on the other side of town, but not enough time before I had to collect him, so I went to get him early and take him along shopping with me.  Perhaps I should have skipped it considering his state of being, but I was determined.  We went to a couple of stored and ended with Wilson's.  They still have the old style strollers you see in department stores, but they really are from the 50's or 60's and the seat belts have long since lost buckles, etc.  After a trip up to the children's section, and Mozart standing in the thing several times, I used what was left of the seat belt to just tie him in.  So, so much safer after that!

The rest of the trip, mostly in the kitchen department, was spent trying to keep my cool and alternately hush him and apologize to other shoppers while he perfected his screech-monkey impression. And then he passed gas.  Rather loudly.  We were the only people in that corner at the moment, so I thought we got a pass.  But, oh, no.  The next several minutes were spent announcing, QUITE loudly, "FART!"  With glee.

On arrival home, he was running around without direction and just kind of bouncing off people and objects.  I decided it would be a good idea to go to the Y and let him run off his energy.  I voiced my idea and it was met with pure joy!  Course, had to have dinner first, which was a feat, but we managed to get about 4-5 bites in him.  I think there is an appetite suppressant in that stuff, and then of course, he flung the dinner to the floor.  Afterwards, while I was cleaning up, he picked a frozen pizza box from the recycling.  Very proud of himself, he announces, "Pizza!"  Then folds the box and says, "Where'd it go?!"  And continued to do this while we laughed at and with him. 

Once at the Y we went to the gym.  They've got it all set up so the Littles can run and tumble and, as long as they don't get trampled by an older kid, they probably won't hurt themselves.  This place is wonderful.  I wish it was an everyday thing, but it's only Fridays and Saturdays.  And only for an hour.  So for the next hour he ran from slide to trampoline to huge foam wedges, blocks and obstacles screaming, "Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah!!!"  And then every once in awhile, whenever counting might be appropriate, "FOUR!"  That's his favorite number, apparently.

On the way home, he was yammering on about who knows what in the back seat and then said, "I want one!"  We asked him what he wanted.  And the response was something to the effect of, "snnk", and I had no idea what that could mean.  Sounded like sink.  He said no.  No luck with asking him to say it again.  I asked him was it a snake.  "Yes!"  Oh, Boy.