Where the heck have you been???

This = gollywopper (click for photo source)

Where the heck have you people been??  Good grief, it’s been ages since we’ve spoken.  I’m blaming this all on you.

My mind has been kind of busy with things.  I’m part of a big project right now.  By “big” I mean enormous.  By “project” I mean a total take-over-your-life-in-a-big-time-sort-of-group-effort-holy-crap-I’m-really-a-part-of -this-dealy-yo-yo.

But I’m not going to tell you about any of that.  Which I think is kind of funny, since I told you it was such a big deal.  It really is.

Moving on.


Can you believe it?  I’m having a love/hate relationship with him being gone all day.  I love that my house is so. freaking. quiet.  All day!!!  AND that I’m not keeping two savage children from killing each other all day long.  That’s nice.  I feel like I have breathing room.  I feel like I can be a better mommy now that all of my super mommy juice is not being used up trying to stop World War Three.

I do miss him though.  We don’t get to have long, drawn-out cuddles in bed in the morning.  Which sucks.

I also lose my breath when I think of what he’s doing, if he’s safe, if he’s keeping his hands to himself, if his teacher is nice, if he’s bored, if kids are being mean…etc.  Try to not think of those things when you have a peanut allergic child on the spectrum who’s not in your safe safe arms all day.

Isaac is taping his racing car up with scotch tape.  It seems like important work so I’ll just leave it alone

This = gollywopper (click for photo source and holy-crap-I-never-knew-that info on these silly insects)lone.

I’m enjoying having this little gaffer to myself!!  After I blog we’re going to make playdough with koolaid.  He’s so sweet and snuggly and lovey.  When it’s just him and I, he makes me go to the bathroom with him because he tells me something in the toilet is going to come out and get him.  He’s also terrified of the gollywoppers that we happen to have an abundance of this year.

He thinks they are going to wop him to which I reply “Isaac, you’re not a golly so why would he wop you?”.  He doesn’t get it.

To him these are a sign of impending doom, Armageddon if you will.  There’s nothing worse than a gollywopper.

There really are thousands of these guys this year.  They love hiding in my strawberry patch and flying into my face when I go picking. Jerks.

Ok so I’m going now, promise it won’t be so long till you come see me again.




  1. I have another use for golly-whoppers. I smack them “softly” with something and then pick them up, find a nicely made spider web, and gently flip them into the web. It’s call “feeding the friendly spiders”.

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