* Or bloggy so-soness, but that doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

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Mister Bubby: Mom, true or false–there were three two-part episodes in the eight seasons of Quincy.

Madhousewife: Um…true.

MB: False! There were four. “Quincy’s Wedding,” “Walk Softly through the Night,” “Snake Eyes,” and “Slow Boat to Madness.”

Mad: [laughter]

MB: What?

Mad: Nothing.

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Princess Zurg: Mister Bubby, why did you become obsessed with Quincy?

MB: BECAUSE QUINCY’S AWESOMER THAN YOU’LL EVER BE!

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Girlfriend: Daddy, I need syrup!

Sugar Daddy: What kind of syrup do you want? Fruit syrup? Or Mrs. BUTTerworth’s? Here’s some Mrs. BUTTerworth’s.

Mister Bubby: If someone were being inappropriate, they would call it Mrs. A-wordworth’s.

(Yeah, good thing we don’t have anyone like that at our house.)

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Have I given up on blogging? A little bit. Now that it’s summertime, we have this new rule that the computers and the Play Station and the what-all have to be turned off between the hours of 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. That’s not so draconian. But it does mean I have fewer hours available in which to assert my right to use one of the computers that I own. Also, I’ve been a little bit busy. I managed to put all the kids except Mister Bubby in summer camps and swim lessons, but none of them simultaneously. Which makes it easier to get them all where they need to go but also sort of defeats the purpose of putting them in classes and camps in the first place. Whoops, did I just type that out loud? What I meant to say was that I am managing to drive kids all over creation and still having most of my kids with me most of the time.

A couple weeks ago Princess Zurg was at our church’s girls’ camp. Because she is a child with a disability (an official one), one of her parents has to be at camp with her every day. Not that either of us ever saw her, since we were working in the kitchen the whole time and PZ never got so out of control as to need one of her parents. SD went Monday and Tuesday, and I went Wednesday through Friday. It wasn’t bad. I mean, it was hard work, but at least I was busy and not just hanging around watching girls do camp things and waiting for my child to have some kind of meltdown. That was what I did the first time I took PZ to girls’ camp, when she was 11 and only going up for the day. THE LONGEST DAY OF MY LIFE. Dramatic pause. OF MY LIFE. I didn’t know how I would ever survive an entire week. Fortunately, that has not been required.

Girls’ camp is sort of a rite of passage for Mormon girls, but I never went, so maybe that explains some things about me. Which things, I’ll never know. I’ve never regretted not going to girls’ camp. It just didn’t seem like my kind of thing. I mean, it’s not enough I go to church for three hours every Sunday, but I have to go to church in the wilderness? For a week? Anyway, what little I experience of girls’ camp this time around only convinced me that I was right not to go to girls’ camp all those years. It really isn’t my thing. But PZ had a good time and this was the first year she managed to stay the whole week, so that was good. For her.

Ha ha.

I only had this one mishap the first night when I woke up in the middle of the night and had to pee and it was pitch black in the cabin and the bathroom was downstairs. I couldn’t see a thing, so I had to rely on…well, luck, mostly. About halfway through my endeavor I thought, “You know, I brought a flashlight to camp with me. Perhaps I should have brought to the stairs as well.” And “I think it would be embarrassing if I got sent home early from girl’s camp because I broke my leg going to the bathroom.” But by then it seemed silly to go back for the flashlight. Until I missed a step and fell down the stairs. Fortunately, I did not break anything. It was still embarrassing, though.

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This week Girlfriend had soccer camp, which was only two hours a day, but it’s surprising how much two hours a day can suck out of your life. I feel like I’ve hardly been home at all this week.

Next week is Cub Camp for Elvis, and since he also has a disability, SD or I will be there with him the whole week. At least for cub scouts it’s only a day camp. Still, as wearying as it was to shadow PZ all day when she was 11, it’s twice as wearying shadowing Elvis all day, since he regularly has meltdowns over something or other. I’m not looking forward to it. Fortunately, my mother-in-law will be going with him one day and SD will be going two days, so I’ll only have to go two days. Unfortunately, one of those two days is the last day, which includes two hours of free time. Have you ever shadowed an autistic child with minimal social skills during two hours of free time? It’s kind of crazy-making. I know because I did it last year. During the two hours of free time the boys can play field games and crap but since Elvis doesn’t understand games with rules, he can’t really participate. So what would be an awesome day to be at camp if you had a son who could play field games for two hours becomes a day with two hellacious hours of trying to keep him out of trouble without the distraction of normal camp activities–which are difficult enough, but at least you have somewhere to direct him (or re-direct him, as the case may be and usually is). Anyway. Did I mention I’m not looking forward to it?

(And I’d trade with SD or my MIL that day except that SD has to work on Friday and I need my MIL to take Tuesday because I have a doctor appointment. My life continues to be planned poorly. By whom? By me.)

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I went to the orthodontist this afternoon. He put anchors in my upper jaw. Well, first he numbed me. That wasn’t horrible. It was a little weird. I got numb from my upper lip to my eyelids–which was a tad unexpected. I mean, I didn’t expect the numbness to reach that far. I couldn’t feel my nose at all. But I couldn’t feel my eyelid either, and that was the unexpected part. (Don’t you wish I could just say what I mean the first time?) Anyway, he screwed in the first anchor, which I didn’t feel at all. Then he screwed in the second anchor, and mother of god that was a thing. He had to stop and numb me some more. Then I felt nothing. Extra nothing.

Then I got up and left. Well, first I stopped at the reception desk to make my next appointment, and I mentioned something about not being able to feel my face, and one of the ladies behind the desk said, “Yes, it feels weird, but it still looks normal, don’t worry.” Okay, sure. Then I went out to my car and looked in the rearview mirror, and my dears, if this is what I normally look like, then I have bigger problems than I thought. So I started laughing at myself, and then I was appalled because my upper lip didn’t move at all and if you’ve never tried to laugh or smile while your upper lip was completely immobile, well, my advice is don’t start. I looked like the Joker or something. It was very disturbing. I Joker-laughed all the way home to keep from crying.

Well, actually, I Joker-laughed all the way to pick Girlfriend up from soccer camp, and then I tried to avoid Joker-laughing on the way home so I wouldn’t scar my six-year-old for life.

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My ortho appointment was at 2:20 p.m. and it’s now 5:23 p.m. and my face is still numb, but my mouth is starting to kill me. Also, I have a bad, bad headache. I took some ibuprofen. It wasn’t enough. I need to make dinner, but I feel like dying instead. This blog was distracting for a while, but now I have to go because crap, this really hurts. Hurts too much to type, even though I don’t type with my face. Not that my face could type when it was numb, but you know what I mean. Or maybe you don’t. That didn’t really make sense. I’m going now.

Gentle readers, I do not know when you will see me again.

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