Mixed bag

We found a source for parts for the washer, thanks to Mimi's reference. Last night Superman ordered what we need. He told me the part should be here within 3 days. The instruction manual to install the part will be here in approximately 3 weeks. I see a potential problem here. Aside from the obvious, let me just remind you that Superman is an engineer. A Georgia Tech graduate with a degree in Mechanical Engineering. Yes, mechanical, as in machine, as in washing machine. If you think "Well, then, he should be able to figure this out with no problem," then you are very naive.

If you have been following this saga for any time at all, you will know that I love my husband very much. He is a wonderful man with many talents and abilities. However, when he attempts a project like this without benefit of an instruction manual he frequently breaks more than he fixes. Not always, mind you, but often enough for me to be nervous about this turn of events. Because he is a guy, and worse, an engineer, he will be sorely tempted to fix the machine before the instruction manual arrives.

Updates as the situation warrants.

On a closely related note, we are running out of clean clothes. I'm writing this at 7 a.m. and Sproing is getting ready for school. He cannot find a pair of pants that he's willing to wear. His distress is loud and dramatic. I can either do the pioneer adventure thing and wash clothes in the bathtub (fun, fun, fun) or load stuff in the van and take another trip to the laundromat. Either of these choices is marginally better than a root canal.

Peace has been restored to the home. Everyone just left for school and work.

Sproing had a traumatic morning. In addition to not finding suitable pants, the poor young'un has outgrown his shoes. He has two relatively new pairs of athletic shoes, neither of which fit is feet. He's been asking for new shoes and I, seeing that he has two pair in perfectly good condition, have brushed his requests aside. Superman discovered this morning that the poor boy can't get his feet into the shoes. Ah, I see the truth of it now. His feet are growing very quickly if he outgrows them before he can destroy them. We usually buy the Wal-Mart specials, cheap and not well made. They don't last long. Note to my childless readers: shoes are a major expense when raising children. 

We made it to October! This is very exciting. I mentioned that August is interminably long. September is hopeful, but much of it is uncomfortably warm. In October, the hope of September is realized. Cool temperatures! This morning the cup of water I got from the cold water tap in the bathroom was actually cold. In the summer we get warm water from the cold tap. Almost but not quite bathwater warm. (In Macon, GA the "cold" water is plenty warm enough for bathing, but way too warm to drink in summer.) Throughout September the cold water has been getting somewhat less warm. This morning, though, it was comfortably cool. This is one more reason fall is my favorite time of year.

In relaying my story of embracing the gay the other day, I realized that I was a fag hag of sorts in college. Well, technically a "fruit fly" since my guy friends were not of romantic interest to me. But I'll use the fag hag term in the general sense. I had a couple of guy friends, not close best buds or anything, but fellas I hung out with a lot. As I look back on it now, my retro-vision gaydar is maxing out on these guys. They weren't out, and I have since lost track of them so I don't know for sure if either of them has admitted to being gay, but oh, it's so obvious!

Shortly after graduation Superman and I were involved with a Bible study group in one of the big downtown churches in Macon where we lived at the time. I remember two guys, both of whom were very outgoing and musically talented, who I now suspect are gay. Neither of them was as obvious as my college buddies. I can't remember the names of my college friends, dad-gum-it, but I do remember the names of the guys in the Bible study group. I did a search yesterday for both of these men. I found references to both. There is very little information on one of the guys. The other one, T, I also found very little about, but in one source there was a profile. In the entry for "spouse" was the name Gene. As in Eugene, a guy! Yes! Superman laughed at my accurate gaydar. This is hardly proof, but it seems significant. I'd love to contact this guy and see what he's doing now. For that matter I'd like to talk to the other old buddy, too. The contact information I found was sketchy, and the phone calls I made based on the info were both wrong numbers. 

It's been a busy week so far. I can't remember most of what happened, but I know I have been busy. I took Sproing and Diva to their soccer game Monday night because Superman was sick. He usually takes them. The excitement of the game sometimes gets to me. So do the crowds. And the bugs and humidity. I'm a wuss. But I went and watched the game. The kids' team won, and Sproing kicked in the first goal. It went well.

Tuesday I did something, but can't remember what. Yesterday was the lunch with that women's forum group that I first attended last month. It was good, very thought provoking and stimulating. I learned a lot about various community services offered in the area. You know how I love to learn things. :)

And I have been trying to get here to write about it since Monday. Something always seems to get in the way. I got up early this morning so I could have time to write this. I can't quit you. Don't want to, either! I just get busy sometimes.

Things are looking up

I've had a good week since Monday.  Still feeling a bit ADD, but as Ur-Spo said, most people have a touch of it.  

S had a great day today.  He checked out a local social service source (not the one I recommended) that helps with GED preparation, offers the test for no charge, and helps with job placement.  As he was telling me all about it, I saw a twinkle in his eye that I haven't seen in a long time.  I showed him a new job posting from today's newspaper.  It was something I though he would enjoy: a greenhouse technician at a local nursery.  "What's that?" he asked.  You get to play with the plants.  "Oh!"  He went right over there and applied!!  He says he enjoyed the experience and feels pretty excited about the job, and hopes he gets it.  Me too, honey!!

I got my living room, kitchen, and Light's room all arranged last night, after Twitch and Diva and Sproing mopped the floor!  Yes, they did it, not me.  I like that part.  Sproing swept up the loose dirt and the three of them got in there with a mop and some rags and a bucket of soapy water.  It looked like they had fun.  I got a clean floor out of the deal, so I had fun, too.  

The things I wanted in each room are now in the desired room.  The particular arranging of things, however, is not to my liking yet.  But I can do the rest myself.  Twitch, bless his heart, helped me move the big things I really needed help with.

S hates the way I have things arranged now.  Oh, well.  

OH!  And get this!  S and C have decided to stop smoking!  Yesterday S came in and said "I've just had my last cigarette."  I saw C smoking this morning and asked about it.  He said "This is the last pack."  I hope they stick to this.  I told S about Quitnet, thank you Torn and Greg for informing me of this handy resource.  S was spouting all sorts of things about how much money they will save over a year, how much time will be added to their lives per year if they stop smoking now.  You know, the stuff Tornwordo has been telling us since July.  (Love you, Torn!)

This just in:  I saw S smoking in the back yard this evening.  He says they are tapering off gradually.  At 7 p.m. he was smoking his third cig of the day.  Interesting.

Sproing had an appointment with his therapist this afternoon.   He has been doing fairly well, pretty typical by 10.5 year old hyperactive boy standards.  She spoke with him for a little while, then let him play in another meeting room while she and I talked.  We discussed typical behavior for hyperactive 10-11 year olds with oppositional defiant disorder, things are as normal as they can be, I suppose, keep up the good work, yes it's difficult, etc.  Then she said "[Sproing] is lucky to be in your family."  Hmmm.  

I get that a lot.  You know I feel as though we are barely hanging on most of the time.  I know how many times I loose my cool, or hide in my room behind the computer screen, or when asked if they can [insert current desire here] say "I don't know.  Go ask your father."  I am all too aware of the many times I have no clue if what I'm doing is making any difference.  I know how often they ignore everything I say.  I know how often I say "How many times have I told you ..."  This woman is a professional counselor.  I'm supposed to trust her opinions, more or less.  But like I always do when people say "They are so lucky to have you as their mom," I figure she is mainly being friendly and polite.   It is nice to hear, yes, much better than something negative!  But even from the professional counselor, I don't fully believe it.  We may be a better family than the one he (or she) was born into, I suppose.  But I don't think we are any better than most families in our financial/educational demographic.  I am thankful for the encouragement, though.

After we left the shrink-wrap center (my name for the psychiatric office) I took Sproing over to Sonic, the drive-in "restaurant," for a cold drink.  As we sat in the truck sipping our slushes a red PT Cruiser pulled into the space to our right.  A young man, perhaps in his mid 20s, but maybe younger, was the sole occupant.  The only thing I specifically noticed about him was that he needed a haircut.  Sproing and I discussed the relative merits of PT Cruisers (pretty nice, I think) and red cars (about my least favorite color for an automobile).  I heard the young man place his order through the annoying speaker thing, and was surprised at his high, feminine voice.  I thought to myself "hmm, could be gay" and continued my discussion with Sproing.  A few minutes later, when the car hop brought the guy his order, Sproing was watching and listening.   He turned to me and said in an almost hushed tone "Mom, I think he's gay."  I said something like "could be," and that was that.  I was amused, and wonder what triggered Sproing's gaydar.  But I didn't ask.  

If there was more I wanted to say I have forgotten what it was.  Superman has had some late nights and early mornings the last few days, and so have I.  I'm going to pretend to get ready for bed now, as I am tired.  If I can just disconnect from this addictive box with its mesmerizing bright screen...

gay secrets

I have a question about being gay with straight people.
To start with, let me tell you what I have learned about gays and lesbians who are out and open about their sexuality. Correct me, please, if I’m wrong.
· Homosexuals are people who happen to have same sex attractions.
· While there are some well earned stereotypes, there is a huge range of behaviors, mannerisms, preferences, taste, and attitude among the homosexual population.
· It is difficult to be openly gay/lesbian in our society, especially outside of large metropolitan areas.
· A lot of people, individually and in organized groups, hate and/or fear homosexuals. (These people are either ignorant or idiots)
· Gays and lesbians have been and are being hurt both physically and emotionally as the result of this homophobia.
· There is no devious homosexual agenda. The only devious agenda I see is the right wing groups, typically religious, who try to deny certain inalienable* rights to those with same sex attractions.
· Homosexuals want to be treated like normal human beings in the course of everyday life. Because they are. Duh.
There is more, but that’s what I came up with off the top of my head just now.
Probably in large part because of the societal alienation (not alien nation. That’s in Roswell) there is camaraderie among gays and lesbians. Sort of like an exclusive club. While not exactly members of the club, there are heterosexuals who are friendly to the group. People who have close friends who, by the way, are gay. Not necessarily people who say “some of my friends are gay” when trying to impress someone. Those people are either ignorant or idiots. But I digress.
How does a gay person recognize an accepting straight person? I know about gaydar. I’m aware of certain social clues that indicate a person I meet might be gay or lesbian. How do they recognize me? What do I say or do or even look like to indicate an accepting attitude toward homosexuals?

*Someone should devise a tongue twister using the word “inalienable.” Or use it as a sobriety test.