“I had rather be on my farm than be emperor of the world.” ~George Washington

I have not had a moment to breathe. My Google Reader has over 50 posts from bloggers for me to read, work is stacked high, no nannies Thursday through Sunday, …

  • Some puke named “Mike” decides to read one post on my blog and not only calls me “ignorant” but tells me to look up the word! I did. “Uninformed or uneducated, lacking knowledge or information,” yep, that’s me. What color is that kettle, Mike?
  • There is a new reader of this blog, Jo (Monkey’s Mom) (her moniker, not mine) whose son is a stroke survivor. Have not had a chance to look closely at her blog yet …
  • I saw Racheli during my trip, she is the (now) seven year old who had a stroke last year. She is as beautiful as ever (of course) and doing well. But I still think some deity has a real sucky streak. You just don’t stroke little kids, nuh-uh.
  • Pearlsky comes home yesterday from school in obvious discomfort. I spend about two hours trying to figure it out. Tried everything I have learned, Advil, palpating here and there, etc. Nothing. Finally, I was going for the “where is the diaper pin sticking her” theory (no, we don’t use those). As I was lifting her to her table to see, I noticed something on her wheelchair seat. It was some lead filled glove or something, I guess joggers or thugs use them. That was the problem. This morning I ask her aide on the bus if she knew what it was and told her where I found it. She laughed. Loud. “I was looking all over for that,” she said. “Pearlsky was very uncomfortable for hours, why are you laughing?” “Oh, it wasn’t hours.” I said that it was at least two hours after she got home, so yes, “hours.” Still very much laughing, she thought it was funny. Schadenfreude? Or just Mike’s sister?
  • Sitting at work, minding my own business, this email comes in:

    I just wanted to let you know that Pearlsky got some scratches on her nose. The PT brought these great gloves in for her to wear – we were really excited about them because they fit her perfectly. Unfortunately the bit of velcro on them which made them the perfect fit scratched her nose. As she tried to bite her hands the velcro scratched her nose. I apologize. We took them off immediately.

    No shit? Immediately? Her nose looks like she got hit with that thing she was sitting on yesterday. I count four scratches that bled. And she has had will again have a cute little nose.

  • A very smart and wonderful young lady who knows Pearlsky, and who happens to be studying for her Master’s in Speech and Language Pathology at a major university nearby, just sent me this in an email:

    I wanted to tell you that I went to school today to meet with a Dr. about Pearlsky and a thesis. I wanted to ask you first before I meet again with them in January how you felt about me working with her for my thesis on communication?

    Umm, let me think about this. “Yes,” or better yet “hell yes.” How about “Sweetheart, you figure this one out and I’ll buy you a house”? You know, she is talented enough that something may just come of it.

Now I have a few days to catch up on blog reading and commenting, to go back to my IEP research, to relax and enjoy some time with Pearlsky. While many of you are opening presents that were under the tree, drinking wonderful homemade egg nog (or my favorite, A Slippery Slide Through A Muddy Chicken Coop (Cinda?)), enjoying family and festivities, think of us having Chinese food and going to a movie, as my people are want to do …


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