I Don't Believe it! There She Goes Again!

Earlier this week Aaron and I were watching a recorded episode of NOVA scienceNow (like 60 Minutes, but nerdy) and saw a segment featuring Luis von Ahn.

Now, if you don't know who Luis von Ahn is, he's a hot piece of nerd ass who developed Captcha - that highly obnoxious word verification bazilliony bloggers (present company included) use for to make sure their commenters are people, not computers.

But, you see, Luis (yes, we're on a first-name-basis, thanks) felt guilty (my words, not his) for the bazilliony of people using up time to put passwords into Captcha. And, couldn't they be doing more to push forward humanity? Couldn't something better come from all that time?

So, Luis developed reCaptcha (you know, with all this dropping of the "er" and replacing with the "aahhhh" sound, homeboy has to have a blog somewhere) - a system where instead of using one word verification, you use two.

Why two?

Because he's trying to fix old books that are being scanned and the computers can't figure out what the fuck the old books say, due to the age and inconsistencies of the old printing. So one word is the word verification to prove you are human, the second word is because they figure, hey - if you blog commenter can figure out one word, surely the second word would be correct. So you, dear blog commenter, are working for Luis von Ahn and his secret plot to make old books available to humanity.

Can you hear the Mwahahahahahaha from his office in New York?

Of course, and here's where it plays in that I'm a horribly obnoxious person, my first thought was - you mean? Only one word is the verification? So I can but in goddamnmotherfucker as one word and if it hits the jackpot then that is going to get uploaded into a 200 year old book? Seriously?

And can you see me hang my head in shame from here? Smartassery is not always a good trait to have, internets.

(You can view the video here; NOVA scienceNow is a mean bitch who doesn't allow embedding.)

You're Every Move You Make, So the Story Goes

Whenever I'm gone from my home for over 24 hours, I take my laptop with me.

And I'll be really honest here: I'm an addict.

Yes. Completely. A plugged-in, techo-nerd constantly looking up information, working or editing photos.

So when we went to the mountains over a week ago it should be no surprised that I packed up the laptop for the trip.

So why didn't you hear from me, you ask?

Because my computer died. Yes, it died. Not "died" but "died" as in a miserable and horrible death on day two into the trip. Died as in the motherboard is toast. Died as in Laura had no internet for DAYS and instead was in NATURE and Laura was very convinced she would DIE herself.

Of course, at the beginning of the trip we didn't think it was dead. We just thought it had another virus. "Don't touch it!" Aaron said, as though I would remotely test such a thing. "You have to wait 'till we get home!"

So I gave Aaron five minutes being home before I began to pester him. "You gonna open my computer? Hack your way in? Find the virus?"

"Christ, woman, let me take a shit first!"

A few hours later, he came to the basement to find me (basement computer is much like basement kitteh - you don't fuck with it unless absolutely necessary) and to break the news to me: "It's the motherboard. I'm not sure the hard drive will even be salvageable."

And to that, I had some lovely choice words to let him know that not salvaging the hard drive was not an option - Darwin's fifth birthday party photos are on that and not backed up because someone was too busy to back up my computer before our road trip.

I'm sure you can use your imagination on how that conversation went.

So for the last five days we've spent nearly every moment hacking an old, dead system and setting up a new system (which we cannot afford, anyone know of gluten-free ramen?) and recovering old data and testing (and continuing to test) out the new system.

So, yes. That's a big-ass explanation of whys I gots no pretty pictures today.

(Also? New computer shiny. Shiny.)

Grow Sweeter Each Season

Yesterday was Darwin's birthday. My baby is five, holy fuck - how did that happen?


You had a party this weekend, and between the party, you brother and us your Bakugan collection increased by 15 members. Which about makes me want to cry, because those bits of plastic break easily and are covering the playroom floor.

You continue to love being the baby of the family and tell me daily you'll be my baby forever. Thank you for that, I need it - because especially after getting the puppy, I know there's no way I can handle another one of you baby-humans, I like my sleep too much.

You read a lot and can do Griffin's math work. You can like to tell people about how whales once walked on land (thank you National Geographic channel) and know all the rules of Bakugan which I don't even bother learning. One of your favorite past-times is "doing academics" and have at least three academic books going. I can't keep enough in stock for you. You especially like to sit at the table while I'm cooking dinner, asking questions and telling me when something smells like it needs to be stirred.

A couple of months ago I bought you a sketch book, which you keep referring to as a scrap book and have already filled the 90 page book, so I bought you another one two weeks ago. It's half-filled already. You also like to sneak in my stash and steal water color paper and get out your watercolors. You're jealous of mine ("your's has a fancier box! I want a fancier box!"), but I pointed out to you that you have way more colors than I do. That seemed to help, and getting you a 15-paintbrush set (mine's only 12) put you over the top.

We are headed to the mountains later this week and you're obessed with playing with cousins, fishing and helping me pack the food. I fear how much I'll have to pack for a seven-day excersion with all our food allergies, but you told me you'd go to the stores with me to get all the stuff. "After all, Mommy, I'm your little buddy."

Yes, you are.

Does She Walk? Does She Talk? Does She Come Complete?

A Laura Capello requested to be my friend on Facebook. After checking out her friends I've officially decided the lady is collecting Laura Capellos. Much like Bakugan cards, but with way kick-assier super powers.

Well, this Laura Capello beats that one because This One cooks gluten-free.

Of course, Aaron completely lost his shit. "Is your birthday on there?! She's gonna try to steal your identity! STEAL YOUR IDITENTY! The internet is bad! And evil!"

To which I have to remind him, bitch, I met you on the internets and I work on the interenets. Shutthefuckup.

So this chick has managed to befriend at least a half dozen Laura Capellos from all over the world and I can't help but wonder if it will somehow turn into a it puts the lotion on its skin and puts it in the basket again situation.

And, hi. My skin is already silky-smooth. I don't need any help in that department. Thanks.

When the Wind Picked Up, the Fire Spread

We're having a rough time, or at least - I am.

Griffin's having some... oh, how should I phrase this... I guess a nicer person would call them "growing pains."

I'm more likely to call it SHITHEAD BEHAVIOR, so yeah! Let's be the bestest parent ever and call it that!

I've made no apologies about talking about his Sensory Integration Disorder and how this has totally wrecked havoc in our family. Two years ago he was "released" - not that he no longer has it, just that he no longer qualifies for medical intervention for it. Which is a fantastical way to say haha, sucker!

And in summer, it always seems to get worse.

I don't know if it's the heat, the humidity or a combination teamed with a less-than-militant schedule but holyfuckingshit, someone's acting out around here and it's not me.

The vast majority of this shithead behavior is directed at people. Last week he was telling me his friend was beating him up, but neglected to say he was hitting his friend with a toy repeatedly first. On another day, he kept Getting In My Face, which I like a good four inches between my face and everything else, and he kept Getting In My Face because he thought it was "funny" to piss me off.

Last night, he shoved his brother down while running home from a walk.

"Why'd you push your brother down?"
::shrug::
"Why'd you push your brother down? You have to have a reason."
"He was there."
"Was he in your way?"
"No."
"Then why'd you push him down?"
"He was there."

Argh.

So after some art therapy (he can put most situations into pictures way better than words) I asked Griffin to write Darwin an apology.


Do you see that ending there? Oh my fuck, is that normal? "I will not do it again, if I do I will punch myself in the face."

Fu-uck.

This is normal, right? Like, it actually is a stage most kids go through?

And goddamn, this parenting shit is rough.

And She Can't Relax with His Hands on the Small of Her Back

I don't know what it is about this week, but I'm totally off. Everything is totally off. My eye is twitching. I got my panties in a bunch because I went for my annual vajay-jay appointment and my OB was out of town on vacation and I nearly had a hissy fit over not getting my bidness checked out appropriately.

I take my girly bits very seriously.

The weather is awful, the kids are stir crazy, the dog keeps poo'ing in her crate at night (actually, she hasn't the past two nights since I've changed her food BUT I'M STILL COUNTING THE POO since it was going on for over a week).

I need a fucking drink and a fucking beach vacation.

Or grow the hell up and put on my big girl panties. One or the other.

Slow Down, You Are Out of Control

Yesterday:

I went to the doctor, got a shot, two breathing treatments and two new prescriptions in hopes of fighting the pneumonia.


Had the van break down, but managed to get it to the shop without being towed.

Found out the van is going to cost over $150 $500 $800 to get fixed.

Lost all hope of taking the boys on a roadtrip in August.

Aaron got sent out of town on an emergency trip and hopefully will come home Friday Saturday.

Today:

I found out a good friend is expecting baby number three.

Watered the flowers in the garden.


Listened to the boys playing inside and outside.

Watched Kylie get rid of the bunnies in the garden.


Will be ordering gluten-free pizza for dinner.

What the World Needs Now

"You know what this world needs?"

"A monument built to my awesomeness where people can bring me flowers?"

"Ahahahaha, no."

::stare::

"I mean, yes. Yes, of course. And, um, in addition to that...."

And if You Can't Get What You Want, Well it's All Because of Me

Today is the first day of summer break and all I can say is oh my hell.

Seriously.

OH MY HELL.

Now, most people I know love summer vacation. For them, it's lazy days pool side, play dates with friends, catching lightening bugs at dusk.

For me, it conjures up memories of being a latch-key kid who wasn't allowed to do shit and had to sit at home all day by myself. And lest someone call the house and I didn't answer, my ass was grass and you do not want to know the specifics of what my stepmonster considered "ass being grass" detailed.

So yes, for me and my psychosis, I loved school. Still do, I miss it. And my kids love school. So the thought of summer (and fully realizing, yes, my kids aren't in my predicament) brings a lot of anxiety and pressure to give my kids A Life I Didn't Have and then I go and get all overwhelmed and depressed and THAT doesn't help anybody.

So this year I have a Plan. A Grand Master Plan for Summer Vacation to Not Suck it Out the Ying Yang (official title, I'm sure you're impressed). This plan includes free time, academic time (hello, we're nerds and we're not gonna let anyone forget it) and scheduled activities to force me out of the house and not crawl into a corner and suck my thumb and sob.

Today, the boys and I ran errands [side note: that totally rocked ESPECIALLY since yesterday I spent over two hours at the doctor because I thought I wasn't bouncing back appropriately from the flu four weeks ago and turns out I have pneumonia -- and I certainly don't feel that sick, until I tried to pick up a case of water then OH MY HELL] and then they played in the yard and got hella dirty. Dirty enough to change clothes. In the middle of the day. Like girls. Here sweetie, let me make you a skirt, mkay?

And this afternoon we sat down and did academics. Each boy has a bridge book to work on to reiterate last year's lessons and to prepare them for next year (good nerds, good nerds).


They both are also keeping a summer journal with spaces for the journaling and photos. I also have some side projects planned because OH MY HELL, today was day one of 80 and I'm already eyeing that corner a little too much.

We also have pool passes (too cool for today though), two weeks of swimming lessons, a week of Harry Potter Camp, a trip to Colorado for a huge family reunion (and someone hold me because supposedly? NO INTERNET CONNECTION THERE, DEAR GOD LET THAT BE A LIE), and my trip to Chicago (which? squee! no kids!).

So here's to a summer that hopefully won't mentally damage me nor my kids too much.

All You Do to Me is Talk, Talk

There's nothing like a very full, very fun long weekend to make someone go wow, that's awesome and oh my, that's exhausting all in the same breath.

My friend Amy traveled down from Wisconsin with her two boys in tow (four years and eight months, and lordy she did it alone) for an awesome visit this weekend.

I got the house cleaned up (and I swear I'm gonna maintain it this time!) and we spent two days hanging out, shopping, watching our boys play and eating (of course). When she left, Griff asked if we could have a baby just like hers.

No, honey. That's why we got a dog. To get rid of the baby fever.

My boys also gardened a ton...


... while I helped another friend get more settled into her house. Side note: do not buy a new house. Blinds are spendy. Even when you shop with a thrifter like me. Keep note.