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Crash! Bang! BOOOOOM!

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Not my picture – thank you Bing…

I’m going to let you in on a little secret.

I may look all calm and cool on the outside.  But, thunderstorms make me a nervous mass of goo.

I know that sounds a little strange coming from someone who spent the first 25 years of her life in South Florida.  I mean, in the summer, you can virtually set your watch to the 3:30 thunderstorms that roll through town.  There are horrible booming bursts of thunder and about a billion gallons of water falling from the sky for about 15 minutes, and then as quickly as they came – they are gone – and the sky goes back to the bright blue and everything becomes even stickier from the humidity left behind.  Ah!  Nothing like feeling as if you have just stepped out of the shower and into your steamy bathroom – but, you are standing outside and you are fully clothed.  It is sooooo refreshing (cue eye-roll).

I don’t know why I get so nervous.  It’s not like I have been struck by lightning or something.   Although, there was this one time when I was in junior high school (Go, Conniston Blue Devils!), that a lightning bolt hit the ground about 20 feet away from the portable classroom I was holed up in.  Talk about scary!

Maybe it is a sensory overload thing.  My ADHD makes me pretty sensitive to LOUD noises.  Particularly unexpected ones.

Maybe it is that lack of control thing.  Not that I am a control-freak (STOP LAUGHING!  I’m not!  I swear!), I just hate situations when I feel completely out of control.  And that happens during thunderstorms.  I don’t know what is happening – or what will happen – or for how long it will be happening.  Everything is left up to the weather gods.  Or Mother Nature.  Or that damn water cycle.

Maybe it is that my father will send me messages saying, “Bad weather coming your way.”  Keep in mind Daddy still lives in Florida.  He goes on-line and checks the weather up here.  Not that he notifies me of EVERY storm, but if he does, it is generally a doozie.

Maybe it is that I am worried that the storm will knock down one of the trees in my yard and it will fall on my house.  Although, come to think of it – that might solve A LOT of my problems with my house!  Heh heh… (Be gone before someone drops a house – er, um, a tree – on you, too.)

This afternoon brought one of those everything turns black and buckets of rain cascade from the sky and the thunder doesn’t just boom it BBBBOOOOOOOMMMMMMSSSSS!!! storms to the Atlanta area.  The Monkeys are at the Monkey Daddy’s, so I had to brave it alone.  That’s one nice thing about having children.  You can disguise your own dislike of thunderstorms by pretending that you are cuddling with them to keep them from being afraid.  So, I curled up with my laptop (which I remembered to unplug…like I need to be electrocuted by my laptop), played games on Facebook, and tried to not obsessively watch The Weather Channel.  In about 45 minutes, the worst had passed – although, I can still hear thunder rumbling in the distance.

Another thunderstorm faced by Susan the Destroyer…

Uh oh – the sky is getting pretty dark again… more bad weather is on its way…

Gulp…did I just hear thunder?

 

 

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The Cleaning Bug

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As I have stated before – numerous times – I really hate cleaning my house.  I understand that it is a task that must eventually be done, because who wants to continue to live in filth?  Or in my case, clutter.  Lots and lots of clutter.   Not quite needing a Hoarders intervention, but still.  I am not the most organized person in the world.  I blame it on my ADHD.  I start organizing and I see something else to be done and I start on that and OOOOOO look! a book I haven’t seen in a while and OH!  before I put that up I need to clean out that cabinet and… SQUIRREL!  I am like a crow.  Easily distracted by bright-shiny objects.  Who am I kidding?  They don’t even have to be all that bright and shiny.  Dark and dull will do the trick equally as well.  In my mind, there is ALWAYS something more important to do.  ANYTHING!

Eventually, the clutter becomes overwhelming (like I said – messy…not 4 foot tall piles of crap like on Hoarders…), and we have marathon cleaning sessions.  This week has been one of those weeks.  The Monkeys and I have been attacking the house (well, I have been attacking the yard) with a vengeance.  Monkey #1 has cleaned his room and has attempted to help the Middle Monkey with his.  (Unfortunately, The Middle Monkey seems to take after me, and when faced with a big ol’ mess just gets overwhelmed and doesn’t know what to do).  I have been dealing with the yard and the loads and loads of laundry.

That leaves The Girl Child.  My lovely, adorable Final Monkey.  The Girl Child seems to have contracted some sort of  illness.  Oh, it’s not contagious and it is not life threatening.   She seems to have caught some sort of Cleaning Bug.  I have no idea where she caught it.  It certainly doesn’t seem to be going around.  The other three of us in the house appear to be immune.   But this little 8-and-a-half-year-old dynamo has not just been picking things up – she has been CLEANING.  Like getting out the cleaning products, mopping the floors, loading and unloading the dishwasher cleaning.  The child even CLEANED AND ORGANIZED THE INSIDE OF THE REFRIGERATOR!!!!

Who is this child?  She kinda looks like my daughter – but surely something has happened to my little girl.  She must be terribly sick or something.

Oh, wait.  Now she is asking me how to run the washing machine.  She.  Wants.  To.  Learn.  How.  To.  Do.  Laundry.

Oh.  My.  God.

If this child has been bitten by some sort of Cleaning Bug, I can only hope there isn’t an antidote.

I could get used to this…

Screaming, and Stomping, and Slamming! Oh, my!


Ah.  Motherhood.

Or with the inflection I am really thinking,
AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!  MOTHERHOOD!!!!!!!!!

Life in a house full of ADHD (present company included) and Asperger’s is always, um…interesting.  Particularly in the evening.  When everyone’s meds run out (present company included).

So far this evening, The Girl Monkey has had three Drama Queen scream stomp slam breaks into her room.  (Why is everybody picking on me?!?!!!!!!!)

Monkey #1 has had two screaming Asperger fits. Including yelling at his sister…which then prompted one of The Girl Child’s events.  (Why won’t anyone let me talk?!?!?!?)

Monkey #1 was sent to his room to cool off.  The Girl was being dramatic in her room.  So, Monkey #2 and I settled on the couch to watch some TV. Wheel!  Of!  Fortune!  Monkey #1 comes back down and starts to grumble about not getting a say in anything and why can’t we change the channel…grumble grumble grumble.  Wellll…. It could be because when we were trying to decide what to watch – YOU had a meltdown and threatened to hurt your little sister and had to go to your room…  Smart Mommy did not say that out loud.

The only quiet one.  Monkey 2.  No whining.  No stomping.  No screeching.  Just enjoying some Mommy Monkey Snuggle Time.  Of course, he can’t sit still at all. Wiggle. Wiggle. Wiggle.  (Sweetie, your chin is very sharp.  Please stop digging it into my arm.)

By this time, I just want to put the other two outside to fend for themselves and just snuggle with Middle Monkey.   They are scrappy.   And pretty darn smart.  They should be fine.

Ok.  Not entirely practical.  And won’t get me voted Mommy of the Millennium.  Guess I shall keep them.  Just as long as I can occasionally run off screaming and stomping and slamming, too.

Oh, my.