Distractions

Bogged down, that is what we are. But go right on ahead life, and just keep piling it on.  We'll just add your crap to the bottom of our stagnant old to-do list, where it will probably sit until it becomes irrelevant.  It's oddly relieving that if your mail sits around unopened for long enough, you can eventually throw almost all of it away.  Except for taxes.  Gotta get those taxes done.  That particular ball is not currently in my court though.  Waiting on SOMEBODY ELSE to get some statements that we need.

Other balls that are in my court, that I have dropped?   Oh yeah, there's a few.

I was supposed to call Duncan's teacher back two weeks ago to discuss him dropping woodshop class for another stupid reading class.  He was not exactly up on his power tool skills, and the school was a little worried about him keeping all his fingers. I got a little worried too, when he told me that the school has new saws, that will stop cutting when they sense flesh.  Um, no, Duncan, they don't work that way.   Maybe another reading class is not such a bad idea.

Then I needed to find out if he has stopped falling asleep in class. Apparently you can sleep through nearly a semester of classes before the teacher does anything about it.  He claims he is staying awake now, but for whatever reason, I cannot bring myself to call his teacher.  Bad mommy, bad, neglectful mommy.

Then there is Olivia. We think she might have ADD.  Her teacher has been gently and kindly hinting at something of the sort all year.  I have been gently and kindly blowing the teacher off all year, thinking she was just a little immature or something (Olivia that is, not the teacher). Then I went in to her class and helped with some reading tests on a whole bunch of kindergartners, including Olivia.  Olivia compared to ALL of the other kids?  She is off  the charts in the distracted category.  She was definitely not on the same planet as me and that test.  Probably not even the same universe.  And I suddenly got what her teacher had been trying to tell me all year long.  So I went home and started checking into having her tested. The insurance company wants a full evaluation and won't pay for it if her pediatrician does it.  The insurance wants me to find her a psychiatrist, then get the evaluation preapproved before I take her in.   I want to just give her a trial run on some amphetamine and see if it makes any difference.  But that is a battle that I will lose, so I might as well buck up and find the kid a psychiatrist.  Once again, procrastinating.


Poor old Will just needs some paper for his school binder.  And Audrey is begging to go to the dentist.  She keeps telling me her teeth hurt.  Swimming lessons start up next week, and she is in desperate need of a new swim suit.  I have a pile of medical receipts I have to sort through so that I can get my flex spending card turned back on and pay my medical bills. And I can't seem to sit down and focus long enough to get anything done.  I don't even have anything fun going on to use as a distraction excuse. Just that it is boring old March, and none of this business is any fun. Some of it is downright painful, and it is all expensive.  Waaa.

Somebody get me some Ritalin!