Ever have a fantasy of where you would like to live most happily.... More and more I find myself dreaming of living in a teeny tiny house somewhere away from people (in the woods) alone with my animals.  That's where I am sure I can be happiest.  This life I have created is full of boundless surprises along with the mess.

Because everything in this house is either broken or misplaced, there are times when I feel like I live with end-aisle displays like they have at the grocery story.  People with ADHD have a different view on keeping track of things.  I have learned, because I live with 3 of them, that it's best to have things front and center.  This sometimes means for me.... piles of things, food items, clothing (why bother with drawers) - you- name-it are always 'out' just in case they may lose track of it.  Nothing is ever put away and certainly not where it is supposed to be.   I have become the 'finder' for all.  Tonight my darling husband misplaced a menu for dinner that he has JUST HAD IN HIS HAND.  I could barely hear is tantrum (because it happens so often) like magic... I quietly got up and 'found' the menu right on his desk - someone had put a catalog over it.   oh well,

A change of season...change of shoes (hopefully)

I'm back! ... no, I'm not hiding under the rubble pictured, but there are times when I have felt like it!   This has been one loooong summer and now it's FALL.   Within the extreme life that I live, the weather has been right in line with my life.  Extreme heat, torrential rains, indescribable humidity....and then the gigantic mosquitoes join in.  That's 'summer' in the Midwest.    I am not fond of heat for a variety of reasons.  After years of running full throttle, additional 'heat' is just not something I enjoy so I do my best to stay near fans and A/C.   The cold weather coming fast is a welcome relief so I am enjoying it as best I can.

Now for the update;  Darling Daughter is now driving and I have to say...it's not as bad as I thought it would be.  My late-night dispatch 'runs' have stopped and she is so eager to drive - even offering to do errands for me!  Also, because we now have something she really wants (the car) her attitude has changed greatly and we are having real conversations and she even asked me to braid her hair last week!  :)  I don't think I have been allowed to 'touch' her hair for 10 years.  It was nice.

Darling son on the other hand is still making questionable choices and last weekend around 9:45 pm invited 8 boys into our newly cleaned house... I'm too tired to micro- manage except to say I did not appreciate hearing bb gun shots in the dark as they were I'm sure, also tramping around in dog sh-- outside to then bring into my clean house.   He was 'entertaining' too bringing shelled peanuts outside in one of my good ceramic bowls.  One of the joys of my life and I have few these days, is having my dear polish ladies clean once a month.   I have been protecting the floors like a prison warden and banished the boys to the basement via text.   I think my son knew intuitively they better stay there! I was actually able to then go to sleep!  

xo

The International Laundress 

humm.....'all I want for Christmas....

ok you finish it... 'my two front teeth' well, at least they'd match. (maybe)  I am just hoping to someday have socks that go together! That is my dream.  Before the madness of my life 'set in' ... I used to be really weird about socks not matching - this slow errosion in my thinking started with my brilliant time-saving system (mentioned in an earlier blog) the famous 'sock box'. Afterall, the kids could have cared less if socks matched but for me it was different.  I used to be able to tell the difference.  Now I find that I've joined the masses around here.  unmatched socks? who cares?!  This mindset has also carried over in my kitchen - for years, we have had mismatched glasses, plates and silverwear.  The potpourri of my life. The good stuff...slowly disappeared - pans used for dog bowls, silverwear used for digging in the mud outside...my knives used for whittling sticks. 

Once when I had 'new' friends over, the mom said, looking at my silverwear... I think this checkered pattern fork is for the kids.  I looked at her with kindness as though she had asked me if i were pregnant and said... oh, we like things mismatched and creative around here! It was a good 'spin'

After suffering for years from parental post-traumatic stress disorder, I often wonder where the first episode occured to trigger this syndrome.  I believe the difficulty for me loomed even when darling daughter was under age 2 and deciding on her own, she wasn't 'ready' to leave a climbing structure on a very cold winter day... after warning and reminding it was 'time'.... I decided to call her bluff and 'leave' to watch as I 'drove away' from my rear-view mirror, my young toddler waved 'bye bye' to me.   She is one tough determined kid...always as been!  Once my mother played in deep snow with her for over an hour and she only had on one boot!  This boot wasn't found until Spring.

When you have PPTSD it is an emotional numbing with flashbacks that trigger new episodes.  On a recent road trip with darling daughter (and darling son), I recalled why it is so difficult to travel with this crowd- the only blessing was that Good Sport Husband stayed home.  As soon as we opened the hotel room door, she had marked herself like a dog on the queen bed that would be 'just hers'.   This followed with the TV on and lights as though her brother and I were no where to be seen.   Like the step-children of her life, she had a full evening with computer off this 'bed' while we watched in awe.   I was futher floored when a hotel manager came in to 'fix' her internet connection.

 but never more evident than a recent road trip with darling daughter (and son) - it made me remember (like a flashback) on why it is so difficult to travel

From this parenting oddessy, I have suffered for years from post tramatic stress syndrome, in fact there are still times when I have flair ups.  I recently had one of those days.... it usually begins with going somewhere with my children and just the mention of sharing a hotel room brings back the dark feeling.  This time, I was spared good sport husband (who stayed behind ).  the lift off began with repeated texts from Darling Daughter on packing instructions of things she had forgotten.    Then while on this road trip I drove straight for 4 hours until finding our hotel room.  

  A rare occasion but this trip was not optional (a funeral).