Dear Roger,Disease,Fire,Apocalypse?No,its just another week in Arizona

Rog, Now I know why you didnt have kids of your own, the little critters are like walking petrie dishes of bacteria and foulness at times and they really pack some germs that kick some adult ass.This week has been then week from hell! Sticky managed to bring home some form of intestinal bug that made him spew shit and vomit all over the front bathroom and his bedroom.I awoke to Fergus freaking out and wanting out of the damn house, several times, so I think it even effected him, but since I was at a state of exhaustion and medicated with headache meds,I was groggy enough that I didnt notice anything until I awoke at 0500 to the most disgusting smell of baked shit. It turns out that my son had managed to somehow vomit all over the front bathroom and crap into the heating register, and let me tell you, that is a special aroma unto itsself.Its a good thing I worked in law enforcement and as a death investigator and handled decomped bodies and did autopsies on all nature of ickyness, because I think I would have otherwise just packed up the kids and dogs and tossed a match into the room. But since I dont get grossed out or freaked out by anything anymore, I had to deal with the clean up. Having kids helps you develop a strong stomach,and the types of work I have done leaves me more inclined to pick apart the stuff I see in movies rather than be disgusted or freaked out by it, I mean, after all I have had to pick through a bowl of someones bits to find a bullet before, and considering that they had been dead in the Arizona sun for a week, it was not a happy, fun, venture. Stickys fiasco in the front bathroom about put me over though.I had to scrub down a kid that was still urping and spewing both ends and try to get him re-settled, deal with 2 other kids that were both feeling ill due to the bug and the smell and pissed that they were going to miss school field trips and disgusted with their brother for his fouling of the kids bathroom, all before I had even one cup of coffee.
If the day did not start off interesting enough,the State,(in their infinite wisdom) decided to send a couple of welders to work on a stock tank on a plateau above my house without adequate supervision, and they set off a really nice wildfire and it looked like we might have to evacuate for awhile. The fire is still burning and has even jumped 89, but hopefully with the wind being mellow today, it will get put out before it turns back towards thicker fuel and my house.The wind yesterday was blowing up to 50 mph gusts and actually I thought the fure was a so-called "Controlled Burn" as the Forest circus calls them, or as us homeowners call them,"Make damn sure your insurance is up to date burns" because they always seem to wait until the wind is blasting at insane levels before they light one off.
The kids and I have just piled up on either my bed or on the couches in the living room, watching the Underworld Trilogies and Vampire movies, arguing about who is the most bad ass or powerful, and laughing at our goofy cat that seems to have totally lost her mind due to the growls of werewolves blasting out of the surround sound. She jumped to the top of the bookshelf in the living room, and poofed out her fur,yowling and looking freaked out until I muted it for a second and then she took off down the hall.The dogs dont seem to enjoy it either, but Fergus has had a more interesting reaction, ever my protector; the big ole beast has stationed himself at my right side and occasionally whines and growls when the battles go on and he gets all worked up and tries to get into my lap when I get a little to animated at the battle scenes or argue with Stubby about who is the more ,'Wicked/badass" of the supernaturals. Having kids with above average intelligence can be both a blessing and a curse sometimes,blessing in that we can have some really interesting and in-depth conversations about things like supernatural mythology and what is the more powerful critter,and even movie-making technology and special effects, but a curse in the fact that I cannot get away with much anymore, they just do not accept,"Because I said so" as a reason, they question me, and even my so-called ,"Special needs, crap in the heater vent" kid, challenges me to think outside the box. Sticky was playing video games yesterday and I distinctly heard him say,"Bloody freaking Hell would you DIE already?" as he was shooting at some alien creature. I just froze in my tracks as I was making my way down the hall and I stepped into his room and told him that he shouldnt talk like that, and he looks at me and says,'Why?" and I told him that its not nice and hes not British so he really cant talk that way, so he should stop,(we really need to lay off the Monty Python and such), but he wasnt going to let it go and he says again,'Why?" and hes not being a smart ass because even though he is above average for a kid with Downs Syndrome, he still has limits to what he understands, its like navigating a mine field on a broken pogo stick talking around him, you never know what he is going to retain and parrot back to someone at the worst possible time.
My baby girl has spent the past couple of days painting brilliant watercolor paintings and coming out to watch the ,'Scary, naked, werewolf dude" on occasion with me and her brothers.All the kids bail during any sex scenes on my command, so they dont see really any nudity, but anybody with their shirt off equal naked to her, thus the label.My kids all run around in nothing but their chone's most of the time,so its kind of ironic that she considers shirts off as ,'naked", but my kids are weird. I have gotten them to keep their clothes on in public a little better, though Sticky is still the worst about stripping down to nothing the minute we arrive home in the afternoon, and the cold still doesnt bother him like most kids, so I have had to retrieve him from the front yard, out in the snow clad only in boxers and snow boots more than once this winter, I dont know where he gets the desire to be naked all time, but I hope he outgrows it before he gets much bigger and I have to wrestle him down to dress him more than I already do.
Ive been writing a little, but working on my school paperwork and dealing with my infernal economic issues has kept pen from hand much of this week, its hard to really focus on my writing when keeping food on the table is a more pressing issue.I have sought a job from time to time this week, but it is not an easy endevour in this town,of nearly 20% unemployment, and im considered over-educated, over-qualified, and due to my misanthropic tendencies I am rather difficult to place. I have considered going back to teaching,but that will not be feasible until school starts back up in August. I am working on some art, mainly stonework and necklaces, so perhaps I will sell some of that to pay a few bills.
My counselor has been probing into some of my mental fuckery that goes beyond my PTSD,or perhaps is even connected to another event, but she started digging into a wound that has not healed for close to 30 years, and that was the death of that boy in East Texas that crushed me soo totally.I guess grief and mourning are things that when not handled properly, really fuck you up at a fundamental level, because when she poked that wound by asking about the first man I ever loved, my heart felt like it burned as I choked out his name, and it was a good 5 minutes before I could unclench my jaw enough to tell the entire story about his death, and I could not get out all of it without feeling like I was gasping for the very breath of life and failing to find it.I had bloody half-moons in the palms of my hands from where my fingernails dug into them as I attempted to not break completely down during the tale,and I failed, I cried as she sat there gently coaxing my memories out of me and I realized that I have never been allowed to grieve for anyone I have lost, including you and though I cannot allow myself to wallow in the misery that is loss, I have to find a way to resolve all the pain and anguish that I have felt over the years,because one of these days the game of chicken that I have been playing with death is going to end, and its not going to be in my favor.I asked a friend of mine to find his resting place, and she did, so I may have to take a trip home to Texas this summer, just to resolve some of the pain.I need to tell him how much I miss him and what he ment to me, and now that the man who murdered him is finally dead, I need to show him how I feel.Guess a roadtrip is in order.