Game addiction

The last day of school for the 2006 - 2007 school year has come and gone. I will never again have all four of my children in the public school system at once. For better or for worse.... I am actually finished with the wretched kindgergarten schedule as well. What will next year bring? The entire day to myself each weekday?! I can get used to that. I remember when I could hardly stand to be at home during the day, and when even the thought of being alone would scare me. (The reasons for my homeschooling decision are more and more obvious now, aren't they? lol) So sad to see myself becoming more reclusive as the years roll on.

To tell the truth, the thought of being alone now actually brings peace, and a smile to my face. Sudoku and me for hours on end. No arguing, no gloating about who wins and who doesn't (and it is usually Sudoku doing the winning), no talking back, no questioning my decisions of where to put which number. I do hear Sudoku calling me at times, but it is with a very soft voice, and it is not demanding. Just a whisper beckoning me for "just a bit of time". I must admit that I answer that call more cheerfully than I answer the oft heard "Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaahmmm" ringing through the house at a good 100 decibles.

I rationalize the time spent with Sudoku by saying that it is my way of staving off Alzheimers. Food for the brain, I claim. Who could have known that the first nine numbers of our counting system could become such close friends of mine. I know them by heart, and I can recognize which one is missing as if they were my children. While sitting patiently upon "the throne", I see Sudoku grids in the tiles on the bathroom floors in restaurants - which, I'll admit, is better than reading "Briggs" around the little drain forwards and backwards over and over again. I take my automated Sudoku game with me to church in hopes that it's black color and small rectangle shape won't give away my addiction, and might even make people think I am looking up scriptures on my Palm!

It is sick, isn't it? There is no need for a support group for this kind of addiction. People will readily admit they too are die hards. When a chance meeting with a stranger uncovers a fellow addict, we just smile, nod knowingly, and with an understanding smirk we pat ourselves on the back. Addicts we may be, but we are intellectual addicts... and that makes it all ok.

An expensive old maid.

I am typing this with a numb mouth.

I do NOT like to go to the dentist... no matter how much pain I may be in. I had to go in today to fix a big hole in my right bottom molar. It has been a big hole for over two months now. I made the big hole by eating popcorn up in Idaho - Paris, Idaho. Actually, I ate one of those kernels that did not pop. You know, the things people call "old maids".

I was quietly and happily watching FLY BOYS one evening while eating a nice warm bowl of microwave popcorn. Once I had finished all the puffy soft pops, I resorted to eating the ones with the partial kernel shell still stuck on the side. Having finished those, I went on to suck all of the buttery salt off of the unpopped ones. At last I just started to just chew on the tasteless "old maids". I went through quite a few and was actually enjoying popping one or two in to my mouth at a time and biting them apart, when I suddenly felt something in my mouth that was not chewable. I quickly spit it out in to my hand and found that it was hard and sharp. Instinctively, I knew it was not a piece of popcorn. (big pat on the back for that one!) Upon further inspection I confirmed my suspicions of it not being from a food group, and sadly confirmed that it was a piece of my molar! Within three minutes, I had two more pieces of my tooth in the palm of my hand.

In the ensuing two months, I probably flossed my teeth more times than I have in the 43 years I've had teeth! Nothing like finding a smidgen of beef from Tuesday night's dinner snugly tucked away in a molar hole Wednesday at lunchtime. I learned to eat on the left side of my mouth, and have found that chewing food appropriately is most easily done with both sets of molars working together. I've swallowed undermasticated food many a time in the last 60 days - and let me tell ya, it doesn't go down all that easily!

So, I am now heading upstairs to rest on my bed after a taxing afternoon at the dentist office. I'm about 1/2 way un-numb. I should probably take some comfort food up with me.

Hmmm... popcorn anyone??

Graduation...

So... I am a mother of an 18 year old who will graduate from high school in TWO days! Can it be? Where have all those wonder years gone? How has my baby grown up? And WHY can't he live here forever? Granted, had I known at this time last week that I would actually be preparing for his graduation in two days, I would have taken a few less Zanex and would have invested less money in to my supply of TUMS. No matter, my desire for him to leave the nest was not augmented in the midst of the stress that accompanied the last four weeks. He lights up a room when he walks in, and I love it.

Graduation is providing more than just a finality of his public education days. Graduation is providing him with a physical, emotional, and mental realization that he can now choose for himself... and doesn't have to check in with me for approval of those choices. HEY!!! Who says I WANT him to realize that?!? What if I don't think he is ready to leave and face the harsh realities of life on his own. And what if I don't think I am ready to face the harsh realities of life without him here?

I'll miss him attacking his siblings... and his parents. He is like a little kitten jumping out from around every corner. He springs out at us, and next thing we know, we are caught in a wrestling war that seems to act like a magnet drawing the whole family in to it. He never has to win, he just likes to play and get us all involved. Saying he doesn't need to win should not imply that he doesn't like to push people to the very limit before he lets them win. THAT part he does very well.

I love how he understands my feelings and needs without having to be told. His future wife is VERY lucky! (Maybe I'll start making really good meals - just so he'll be here more.)

Actually, he doesn't have any plans to move out or go anywhere in the near future. I suppose that this graduation time is just a reminder for me that my anxiety over him leaving is not unwarranted. Eventually it will happen. sniffle... sniffle.... I'll be fine, but I AM going to talk to Rich about his new project - a basement apartment! :)