A Mama by any other name...

“Names are not always what they seem. The common Welsh name BZJXXLLWCP is pronounced Jackson."
~Mark Twain

   You know, I have known a lot of people in my forty six years..and I've been called many things-most of them good.  Until my early twenties, I was called "Kathy"..which I hate..always have.  I am so not a" Kathy".  If anyone reading this happens to be one-I mean no disrespect.  It is just that "Kathy" brings up images of perky, sweet, fun loving "gals" of which I am not. No! I am hyperactive and sarcastic..pithy and ..well..cool.  Just so you know, Kathleen wouldn't' have been  my first choice of names either-it was the only acceptable alternative that I could think of.  I mean really, I couldn't imagine getting anyone to call me "Queen Cool" or "Wonder chick" (not that I haven't tried)..so Kathleen it is.

  There are only four people in the world who call me "Mama"..and yet, if there were a count to be taken..it is the one thing I have been called more than anything else. Just this morning the word "Mama" has been used in forty zillion different ways.."Mama I'm hungry" "Mama can I have a turn on the computer" "Mama can I have a snack?" "Mama The dogs are doing that weird thing to each other again" "Mama can you get me this?" "Mama can you get me that?" "Mama?  Mama??? MAMA!!!!!" sigh..."Mama why are you sitting in the empty bathtub with clothes on?"  "Oh I like the feel of the cold tiles against my face when my head hurts.." "Does your head hurt Mama?" "No..I'm o.k."  "Then why are you sitting there" "I don't know" "Oh...Mama? can we have lunch?'

  I am really not complaining. I can't.  There was a time not to long ago, when I would have given anything to hear my boys say "Mama". Sammy spoke very early, but at around twelve months his language slowly went away..and was gone completely by the time he was eighteen months old. Oscar did not speak until he was four-and even then it was only with very few words . I wasn't sure if either would ever be able to verbalize. I did not know what the future held.  Should we teach them sign language, use pecs..perhaps a talking machine? We had accepted the idea that they might remain non verbal. We made plans...we would do whatever we could to help them  And yet,.and yet drifting around in the back of my mind was the thought..the WANT.. to hear them just once say "Mama" .So simple..and so complicated. I was ashamed for feeling that way. Acceptance means acceptance..right?  sigh...I have learned since to cut myself some slack.  That motherhood isn't the equivalent of stoicism(at least most of the time). I am allowed to want..to feel..to mourn for things that might never happen. It is what one does with those feelings that matters.

  The other night Sammy made a decision..he told us "I'm almost a young man..I'm going to start calling you "Mom" and "Dad" now...o.k.?" I had noticed that he had already started doing this at school..calling me "Mom" in front of his friends..I could accept that...but this?  No!  "Sammy..I am so not a "Mom"..if you want to use that at school is one thing...but at home???? Ick.."  Omar wasn't thrilled either.."Sammy, I still call MY father "Papa"  it is the way we say "dad" in French" ..."But I'm almost a young man..and this is what I want to call you." sigh.."Sammy, can't you think of something else to call us.."Mom" just doesn't suit me...heehee..you could call us "Mother and Father" "  "No, I like "Mom and Dad"" ..."How about "Queen cool" ?" "What??" "Or "Princess wonderful" " .."Mama! I'm being serious!" "Fine bud..if that's what you want to call us-go ahead...but then I'm going to have to call you "Son"." "O.K....goodnight Mom...goodnight Dad"  "Goodnight Son....of princess wonderful! hahahahaha"  "Mama!!!"  "That's my name.."


Note: This post was inspired (as most of my posts are) by my kids.  This week, some of what I discussed was inspired by this wonderful post by Kim.  I think it would be well worth your while to go read it. Thanks Kim. :)

Finding the joy...one clap at a time..

"I have found such joy in simple things.." from the poem by Grace Noll Crowell

  Someone told me this morning that they thought that there were more horrible things than good in the world. Wow. That really threw me. .Because, that's one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard..and I have heard some crazy things..I mean I do live with four kids, three dogs, a cat and a very patient husband.   Oh sure, I can name a litany of horrible things..war, crime ,greed, pollution .All of them- big things..terrible things...awful things  Don't get me wrong..I don't trivialize them.. But come on-is that all there really is?    And yeah, we all have had bad days..we've all had bad things happen to us..seen awful things.Some people more than others.   But if day after day the only thing you focus on is the horrible...well then maybe you are standing in the wrong place...looking in the wrong direction. Hanging with the wrong crowd . Because there is so much good out there..so much joy. The problem is...that it is up to us to find it and some people...sigh... have simply forgotten how to look.   I blame the lack of applause.

    Think about it.  As a small child everything you did from taking your first step to using the potty has not only been met with happiness but with clapping and boisterous approval.   Now imagine finding that same sort of approval in your day to day life as an adult .What a huge difference it would make!. You wake up one morning running late, your car breaks down..you get caught in the rain..and still you manage to make it in to work.  Wouldn't it be wonderful if you were greeted with applause for having done so?  I know I'd be thrilled if people clapped because I had gotten the laundry folded and put away. Don't you think it would be great? I really believe that we need to bring clapping back.No longer should it be only for children, athletes or celebrities  We could organize..have rallies..make signs..chant... "Bring back the clap!  Bring back the clap!" I do believe it could make a difference.

  But I'm getting carried away. I look at it this way-I have four incredible children..three of which are on the spectrum.  They work so very hard at learning the skills they will need to navigate this very confusing world-and they do this simply because I ask them to. How could I in good conscience ask them to work so hard if I did not think that it was worth it?  If I thought the world in which I brought them was mostly horrible?  What would be the point?   

  There is so much good and beauty and joy in this world.   And although, it might not make the headlines..or be the top story in the evening news.. it is there.  You just need to know how to look for it, and where to look. That the little things do add up... I guess it's all in perspective. But I think that a little more clapping and a lot less booing could make a big difference. Now, I am going to go finish the six loads of laundry that need doing . Please...don't hold your applause.

Heated conversations....

"If you saw a heat wave, would you wave back?"  ~Steven Wright

                                                          

It is so very hot outside. The kind of heat that makes things that on most days are only mildly annoying-seem exceptionally annoying.  Everything just sticks to you-your clothes, dog hair...children.. My kids are hot as well..I know this because they tell me every thirty seconds or so.."Mama..I'm hot"  "Yeah it's pretty hot outside"..."but I'm hot.." "Yes, I know you are hot.." "I'm hot too".."Me too".."Mama we're hot.."  "..sigh.."I know you are all hot..I am hot..why don't you go sit quietly in the playroom and let the fan cool you off."
"but it is blowing in hot air.." sigh.."If you sit really still and don't make a sound you will cool off" "It's not working.." "Thats because you keep running in to tell me how hot you are.." "But it's not working!"  "Well maybe if you put on a pair of shorts and took off your pants socks and shoes you would feel better?"  "But I don't want my feet to get cold."  "Oscar it is 95 degrees in the house..your feet won't get cold!" "But they might!"sigh... My Oscar is having problems accepting summer wear.  He keeps tugging at the sleeves of his short sleeved shirt-trying to pull them down to his wrist.  But hey, at least he's wearing them-even if it is grudgingly..This is nothing like it was with Sammy-who used to mourn his snow pants in April.  So I really can't complain. And thankfully none of them have a problem with bathing suits..

  Thank god for our pool..It is a life saver..it tires the herd out and cools them off-especially my sock clad boys..and it keeps them happy... for about three and a half minutes..until.."Mama!  Lily says my zhu zhu pet is a boy but I say it's a girl!"  "Lil..Zoe can call her zhu zhu pet a girl if she wants to."  "But it's name is Mr. Squiggles!" "I don't care! she's a girl!" "No Mr. means boy!" "But it's a girl!! I don't want a boy!" "Zoe! it's a boy!" ..sobbing now"Mama! Lily won't let my zhu zhu pet be a girl!"...and so it went..for the entire  two hour swim..getting dressed...having a snack.. and through dinner....Oh I tried to be diplomatic ("girls please try to get along)"..tried to redirect the conversation ("hey-who wants to discuss folding laundry?")...tried to distract them ("I have candy!")..but when the shouting became  more than this innocent..and very hot mother could bear-I lost it...went off the deep end... I yelled... "DOES  IT  HAVE  A  PENIS????" shocking my children into stunned silence. Until an indignant Oscar looked at me in horror and said "That is not polite Mama!" " No..It is a FINE word to use in a discussion..DO ZHU ZHU PETS HAVE GENITALS??? NO THEY DO NOT!  THEREFORE ZOE'S ZHU ZHU PET CAN BE A GIRL!"  "Actually Mama, they don't have either..they are only toys...why is your face so red?"  "Because I am HOT!!!" "well why don't you go sit in the playroom and let the fan cool you off?"

 Tomorrow is a summer rec day..and I am oh so thankful.  We all really do need a break from each other-at least until this mini heat wave is over.  Until then, I am just going to have to get a grip on myself. Not let these little things get in the way of my better judgement.. I have learned the hard way, that many things said in exasperation are oft times repeated in the worst of places. And I have a sneaky suspicion that one day in the near future...I will be in the supermarket with them and I will hear Oscar say "zhu zhu pets penis!" and laugh hysterically. And the really sad thing is..well I probably will too. Heat wave or not.

Nothing but the...tooth.

"I'm desperately trying to figure out why kamikaze pilots wore helmets." --Dave Edison 

2010 has not been a good tooth year for me. I don't know, I guess having children and getting caught up in all things "kid" had caused me to neglect my dental care. Way back in March I wrote all about my dentalphobia  and the fact that I could think of nothing worse than a trip to the dentist.  Now in July (and with much thanks to Valium) and just one appointment short from finishing up all my dental treatment-which had included five trips to the periodontist and three trips to the regular dentist. I had a new lease on teeth! I was going to be the queen of all things dental!  I was flossing and brushing..AND even though it burned the hell out of my mouth-I rinsed with Listerine!  What's a little bone loss?  I had bought a Braun! I was none too cocky.  I had endured and I was feeling perhaps a bit too proud of myself. I had survived my trips to hell and back.  I had saved my teeth..no worries-right?

 I certainly didn't see it coming.  I was an innocent mother romping in the pool with her kids. It had been a hot day..and I was looking forward to floating on my tube. My tube-not my kids...mine. I had bought them a variety of their own floaty devices..but it seemed that mine was the one they wanted. So there I was playing (if you are a parent you know this game) "please don't jump on me or my tube-that is why I bought you forty million tubes of your own" (the simplified version is called "STOP HANGING ON ME!")  with the Sam and Zoe...Omar was playing the same game on the other side of the pool with Lily and Oscar. I turned to  him to say that we would come back later after the herd was in bed..when BAM!  Sammy's elbow going at about 900 mph hit me straight in the mouth knocking my left front tooth snuggly behind the right one. Holy crap! In my life I have broken bones...burned myself,  fallen down staircases..I have given birth!  But this-this was a level of pain I had never before experienced. The Godzilla of pain..pain to the zillionth degree!  I can't tell you exactly how I wound up on the kitchen floor with a towel of ice covering my face...but there I was..hyperventilating..and writhing ( writhing galore)  while Omar kept the kids away from me.

  Two Vicodin and many bags of ice later, Sammy came upstairs to find me. He was beside himself and in tears because he had accidentally hurt me. "Thammy buddy..(a combination of Vicodin and loose tooth has left me with an interesting lisp) it wath an accthident! We were playing..you didn't mean to knock me!!!"  "I hate my elbow!!!"  "Oh Thammy...ith alright..I'm o.k.!!! Thee?? "(I attempted to smile)  "Why do you sound like that?"  "Oh my tooth ith a little thore thath all.."  "Can I kiss it?"  "NO!"  "But if I kiss it, it will make it feel better..you always say that...Oh I'm sooooo mad at my elbow!"  Sigh...or should I say "thigh"....How do you explain to a boy that kisses don't always fix everything?  More importantly, do I want to just yet?     Sammy holds things like this so close to his heart-dwells on them..really obsesses. It is only now, eight years after accidentally breaking Oscar's nose by swinging a snow shovel around,  that Sammy can look at his brother's nose with out feeling guilt. And since I have enough tooth anxiety for forty people... I did the only thing I could think of-I lied.  "Thammy-the dentiht thaid that it wath o.k. to could blow kitheth to my tooth."  So he did.  I thought things were o.k. after that,-until three days later when I caught him sobbing uncontrollably.  "Buddy!  whath wrong?"  "I don't know!!"  "Are you thtill upthet over my tooth?"  "No! hiccup..I said I was over that!"
"Then whath going on?" "I don't know!! I just feel really sad..."  I know this is about my tooth(even if he doesn't)-because I know my boy. He will not be o.k. until this tooth is fixed..until I don't sound like Sylvester the cat..until I let anyone within two feet of my mouth again.

  I have another dental appointment on Thursday. Hopefully the swelling will have gone down enough by then  for them to fix it. Scary- for the first time ever in my forty six years of life, I am looking forward to it  Although not enough to skip the Valium.  I may have embraced a whole new philosophy of dental care..I may floss and brush and rinse with the finesse of a hygienist..I could even be the poster girl for "Dental Living"...but I am not crazy.      



  

Pomp and circumstances beyond our control...

"Gasping at glimpses of gentle true spirit; he runs wishing he could fly only to trip at the sound of goodbye"

~Stephen Stills~

 I have a profile page on Facebook.  I use the site primarily as a way to keep informed of all the things happening in the world 'o autism.  It has connected me to people, groups and organizations I might never have known about.  Through it I have made some wonderful friends and connections.  Well, Facebook has this little section on the right hand side where it suggests people you might like to "friend"  Usually, they are friends of friends.  In other words, people who share the same interests that you do.  If I know of this person, or they are connected to many of my friends, I will take Facebook up on their suggestion. Today however, Facebook crossed the line..made a suggestion that had me shaking my head in disbelief..made me pose the question  "Just who does Facebook think I am?" ...and more importantly "Why?"  Yes, today Facebook recommended that I friend none other than "Regis Philbin"  What the hell???  What Could I possibly have in common with him??  He's a creepy old guy that shouts too much!  What in the world have I done or posted that would make Facebook think I should connect with Regis??? Do they think I'm incontinent?  I'm 46!  Not old and complacent!  I have full use of my limbs! (being immobile is only way you would ever catch me watching his show-seeing that I would be unable to move and couldn't reach the remote to change the channel)  Until today,(and the Regis suggestion) I hadn't ever really thought about my age. I am who I am...sigh...if only it were that easy for Sammy.

  It was a big week for Sammy. My gentle boy, my shining light, the kid who we were once told not to have too many expectations for, that same boy we were told "wouldn't" or "couldn't"-THAT BOY, graduated from elementary school this week...and I am breathless. Also a little worn out..

  It was a long ceremony that could have been a whole lot shorter.  First they had to give awards to the kids with the best immune systems. Yes, there is an award for the kids who did not miss one day of school.  Maybe it is just me-but really..do you want me sending my kid in when he has the flu?  Is it his fault if he happens to get sick? Is not getting sick really worthy of an award?  Then there were awards for participating in chorus (most kids did).  So we had to sit while fifty or so kids went up to receive that award..then there were the "participating in band" awards. Remember the trombone?  There seemed to be awards for everything...and it felt like five hundred million kids each got them..and we had to patiently clap for every single one of them. But the most ridiculous (in my opinion) award was for meeting the equivalent in standardized tests.  We all know those tests-every state has them.  So in the first place, giving awards for something they are supposed to have done  is.well...kind of redundant. In the second place MOST of these kids did NOT meet the standards in BOTH reading and math.(4 met neither)  Only handful exceeded in both subjects. Yet all but those four kids got an award. What does that say?  Mediocrity is o.k.? Excelling is no big deal-because everyone is going to be recognized?  Why have standards if you don't hold them up?

 It was a long ceremony.  I started to feel like we were at that part of the Academy awards that doesn't get televised-because no one but the recipient cares about the award.  Don't get me wrong!  There were nice parts as well. The kids got to hand out flowers to the people who meant the most to them at school.  Sammy gave his to his first grade teacher-who absolutely rocks!  She was the first teacher who saw his potential and accepted him for who he is.  She helped lay down the foundation that led to his love of learning.  We adore her-and Sammy-he loves her dearly. But to me, the greatest part of the ceremony (besides the end)..was when their  were four special awards given-Writing, Math, History, and Science.  These were given to the kids who showed the most interest-the most passion-and because of that-the most promise for these things.  My Sammy-(remember the boy we were told not to expect much from?)  My Sammy won the science award. Again I was breathless..and amazed and in awe..and utterly overwhelmed with love for my boy.  Because he can-because he does-and because he will.  The ceremony ended with the fourth graders playing the same four notes over and over on their recorders (music teacher is retiring)  as each of the fifth graders names were called and they received their certificate of graduation. To say that I was overwhelmed would be an understatement  as I watched Sammy receive his. My lovely boy, my gentle soul..is taking flight.. 

  It was a big week for him, and the beginning of a lot of changes.  He's having such a tough time with all of it.  There is a part of him that longs to grow up-and a part that clings desperately to childhood. He is standing in that hard place between being a boy and becoming a young man-and he doesn't care for it.  Not one bit.  Today we were talking about our towns summer recreation program-and he got very upset with me..

"Hey buddy...maybe in a few years instead of GOING to summer rec, you can be one of the counselors." .."I don't WANT to be a counselor!  I just want to go!"  "But Sammy-there will come a time when you are too old to be one of the kids..." He didn't like that idea at all...he got all teary..I tried to explain.."Remember when you watched "The Wiggles" all the time..(24/7) and I told you that there would come a time when you didn't like them anymore(I was desperate)?"  "yeah..."  "Well you said that you would NEVER stop watching "The Wiggles"!!"...well, do you watch them now? " "No.."  "See..?.you stopped when you were ready to..growing up just kind of happens..without you even thinking about it..o.k.?  "O.K....but I still don't want to be a counselor!"  "Yeah..well I don't want to be friends with Regis Philbin!"  "Who?"..."Never mind.."

Of mice and fifth graders..

"We've had bad luck with children; they've all grown up" ~Christopher Morley~

  I was going to write about Sammy's school play and all the things going on this past week...then my computer fainted. I say fainted because I was able to resuscitate it..with no lingering side effects or damage. The downside is that I lost my concentration and forgot just what it is I wanted to say.

  This is a bittersweet time for Sammy. There are just a few more days of fifth grade yet...and then it is on to middle school. He is so excited about moving forward and at the same time so very anxious.  Change is a big deal for him.   Anything new and different just freaks him out..this is the boy who has eaten peanut butter and jelly for lunch every day for the last five years.  Just the suggestion of trying to eat something new can bring tears to his eyes.  So this moving forward is a big deal to him..to me too.


 I look at this boy of mine..at all he has accomplished..who he is becoming..and I think "holy crap  how did this happen?" I so clearly remember bringing him home from the hospital.  I was shell shocked..going between thinking "what the hell did I do?" to "what the hell do I do with him?"  I was such a mess. For one, I couldn't believe that they actually let me leave the hospital with him.  I mean really, what were they thinking?They let ME leave the hospital with an infant-ME!  Were they crazy? .  I kept waiting for hospital representatives to come to our door saying "we've made a terrible mistake..you must give back the child." I admit..in those first few days-there was a part of me that would have eagerly returned him.  Accepting motherhood-well, it took me a while. Eventually, I lost that "new mother smell" (of fear) and we moved on..And here we are almost twelve years later- intact..healthy..progressing. We must be doing something right. Or I'm just really lucky.

  So anyway, it has been an action packed week for Sammy.  They have really tried to make it special for the fifth graders..there was rocket day, field day, the fifth grade play..I was going to tell you all about it complete with dialog...but then my computer fainted.  So tonight after they all went to bed, and the house was quiet..I got out my lovely laptop and thought.."At last!!Now I can finally write!"  I logged on to my  page and started typing...when I heard a banging noise..sigh.. We have had a mouse...issue.  Seems that when we had the electrical work done on the house, something got knocked loose opening a gateway for mice.  And they aren't just any kind of mice..they are rodents with attitude! About a month or so ago..I was sitting quietly in my kitchen typing away when I felt an ominous presence...as if I were being watched..standing out on the top of my stove was a gigantic house mouse chewing on a bit of pizza crust, acting as if he belonged there...staring at me as if to say( with a N.Y. accent) "what are you lookin at lady? I'm hungry..you got a problem with that?"   Well yeah..I did have a problem...a big one. So I did what any other freaked out person would do..I screamed for my husband while simultaneously grabbing the cat and tossing him on the stove.  The cat did nothing but look at me with scorn..Omar set traps.  We caught the mouse and I thought that was the end of it..until last week.  I found mouse droppings behind the stove. Being a kind hearted type of person-I set out humane traps. The kind that catches the mouse and allows you(well...Omar) to set it free (far away from your house) so that it may once again romp free with its mousy friends. You see, I forgot that we were dealing with a different kind of mouse..a smart mouse..a bold mouse..a take no prisoner grab what you want mouse with attitude!  This was Mickey on steroids!   So there I was typing away last night...when I heard the trap close. Omar was asleep..and I certainly wasn't going near it..I figured I would just ignore it..until it started throwing its little mouse body against the sides of it..BANG! BANG! BANG!...What could I do?  I quietly shut down my computer and ran upstairs to bed.  This morning, Omar came down and found the trap empty...the top had been broken off.  So now I have an angry mouse running somewhere in my house..and I find myself worrying about retribution....and oddly, Sammy's graduation.

Sammy's last day of school is on Tuesday..this is a big step for him.  There is a lot of change on the horizon..a lot of worry and anxiety.  But I will be o.k.  I'll just keep pushing him along with one hand while holding on to him (loosely) with the other.It's an adjustment-this growing up.  In the mean time, I will be setting out some mousetraps-the kind that kill. Because, either the mouse goes-or we move.As there is just so much change any one of us can take... moving is just not an option right now....I hope.

  

Apples and trees.....

"I am yours, you are mine.   You are what you are.  And you make it hard." ~Stephen Stills~

 I am bone weary.  It has been that kind of week.  Two kid neurological evaluations..an I.E.P. meeting, a scramble to find an electrician..tearing down an old shed..making the yard ready for a new pool..plus all the things to get ready for summer vacation which starts in one week...tons of phone calls and setting up of appointments and cancelling of others..I am so looking forward to the weekend-even if that means the kids are home all day. I just want to hang out..maybe read a little..drink tons of coffee..look at the new pool that we won't be able to use because it will be rainy and cold and the hard to find incredibly expensive electrician won't be here to install the pump till Monday...and besides there is just so much other stuff to do.  Sigh...Who am I kidding anyway?  I'm really not the "laze about in a bathrobe" type.  I'm more of a "start fifteen projects and finish none of them" kind of girl. I mean, I still have boxes from college that I never unpacked..even worse...I have boxes from boarding school I never unpacked either-and I graduated high school in 1983!!!  It seems that I stumble through my life with the best of intentions..only to be constantly distracted.  There are days when I have looked at my kids and thought "How did you get here?" or "Holy crap! did I remember to feed you?" (as if they would let me forget.)

  It isn't like I planned this life.  I didn't spend my girlhood dreaming of the perfect wedding or raising a family.No, I was definitely more interested in having adventures. Traveling the world..riding elephants..I even thought about joining the circus once-but that was short lived on account of there being clowns..(they freak me out) The point is-well, I guess I just never pictured myself doing this.  Don't get me wrong-I'm not lamenting the life that I am having..I just didn't imagine it would be this one. It was really rather unexpected.

 You could say that I grew up in the usual way..until adolescence (but that is a whole other story) when I wound up being sent  experiencing a born again christian  naughty girls school in North Carolina (which I promptly ran away from) from there I wound up at Quaker boarding school in N.Y.(from which I tried very hard to be thrown out of-didn't work) went to college..graduated moved to the city and took  a series of  bizarre strange unusual  jobs..I have been an actress, a restaurant manager, a giant rose, a giant turkey, a product demonstrator, a glue chipper, a dishwasher, an artist's model, a purveyor of paper goods, a cocktail waitress, a car wash attendent, a restaurant owner, a receptionist, a christmas tree saleswoman, an associate producer,a light board operator, and the hostess for a drag show to name a few. None of those things exactly scream maternal.  And yet here I am-the mom of four magnificent kids..go figure.

  It always seems  that what I plan on and what actually happens are two very different things...and I find myself wondering why this  always surprises me? . You would think that I'd have learned by now.  Funny, at the neurologists office yesterday we were discussing ADHD..when he was able to get a word in (I tend to chatter a little..well actually, quite a bit-alright! incessantly!)  he looked pointedly at ME and said "well the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.." Now THAT, I don't find surprising..neither does Omar.  What could we do but laugh.

  So here I am trying to plan out the weekend after a long week.  There is so much to be done around here.  Maybe I'll actually get around to unpacking a few boxes...then again...maybe I won't.  Oh who am I kidding?
I have absolutely no idea of what I'll do. I can tell you one thing though...I will have fun not doing it. In the words of my friend Louise "That's for damn true!"