So I hear I've been missed. Well, here I am! Now, now, simmer down. If you keep applauding, I'll never be able to go on...
This morning and yesterday morning were both nude,crude and rude. Except...yesterday he put his diaper on his dad's head...then went in his room and peed in the floor. *sigh* Have I mentioned how much I like cleaning carpets? No? Yes. Well. That's because I DON'T. This morning, he put it on his dad again (hehehe) but I caught him before he made a mess. So we are on game hiatus until 9. I told him he HAS to stop taking his pants off and he told me "That's not nice, though!" I said 'you taking off your drawers isn't nice either, so listen to me.' I got a heartfelt raspberry. Story of my life. He is currently running up and down the hallway yelling 'I like Mickey' cuz Mickey Mouse's Clubhouse is on. Oh, the energy...if they could only find some way to harness it, he could power the entire town of Thayer. Or if they couldn't do that, at least figure out how to share some with me. I think mamas (and daddies) of autistic kids should be prescribed some kind of energy pill. I'd take 'em! 
I've spent the last couple of days wallowing. Been worried since getting some yucky news from a Dr visit Monday morning. I have to have surgery again on April 6th. Two surgeons will be working in tandem to fix a bladder prolapse and other things that are going on down there in Nevermind Land. I have no idea how long the surgery will take, but it has to be open abdominal and I will have to be in the hospital 'for a while'- however long that is. I hate the entire idea of it all- the complicated surgery, the need for two surgeons working to fix me and the hospital stay. Which of course you NEVER get to rest during. Cuz when you go to sleep, they wake you up to give you a sleeping pill. And when you just fall back asleep its time for vitals or vampires. But I will survive *cueGloriaGaynor* And NOW that is stuck in your head. You are welcome. 
I did learn from driving in the rain on the way to Springfield Monday morning that my right foot has all kinds of rhythm. I'd look down and I would be going anywhere from 62-80 depending on what was on the radio. My name is Darla and I am dependant on Cruise Control. Which is probably a good thing, I just wanted you to know. 
Had a night full of bad dreams and crazy things. Woke up at 4:30am to the sound of my printer going off. Got up in time to see George, the cat, pushing the button to feed the paper through. He learned this trick a while back, but hadn't done it in a while. I was SO hoping he'd forgotten how. Oh, no. Not so lucky. He'd sit there until the paper went through and then push the button again. He even had the audacity to look put out with me when I made him get down and stop wasting the paper. Nothing like a cat to make you feel like you did something wrong when they were the guilty party in the first place. My next life, I'm coming back as a cat. I deserve a chance to be a little craphead for being a servant to these ungrateful furry children for so long. I'm gonna sit in the sun all day long, and not move when people are trying to step carefully over me, then I'm gonna jump up and bolt out of the room so they nearly fall down. Then I'm gonna get sick on the linoleum and hack and gag and carry on, then just before I actually gack up something I will run to the carpet and do it there. I will beg to be petted, after which I will bite my human for daring to touch me. And I will become a kleptomaniac. I solemnly swear to steal everything that is not nailed down and take it under the bed to never be seen again. Yep, a cat's life will be the one for me. Except their food kind of stinks...and I'm not sure about pooping in a box...maybe I need to think this through a little more...