Well Enough To Be Obnoxious

M is getting better. It's been a long road, but he's definitely getting better. Now, he's bored, cranky and obnoxious. Thank the gods. I've never enjoyed being snapped at peevishly so much before. We're ramping down from the pain killers, bit by bit, and soon (not a fucking minute too) this week of hell will be a memory. He said, "Mom - I wish you were more organized." Damn.

A is home. She has graduated from college and returned home, full of. . a shining fervor to make the world a better place? Well, kind of. She's talking about getting a job with a pension plan and health insurance. Switched at birth? Go figure. I keep telling her to join the Peace Corps or get a job on a cruise ship or backpack around Europe - she wants health insurance. I'm really proud of her. Kind of flabbergasted, but proud. Mostly, though, true to her self, she's sleeping and watching movies. She has washed the dishes like 3 times - I think the pod people probably got her at college.

So my empty nest thing is over. A arrived home with boxes and boxes of stuff; I took M up to Celo to get his things yesterday. They both set off immediately to transform their rooms. M took down his dragon posters and his Lord of the Rings poster, threw out his dragon kite (I rescued it and am flying it from the flagpole in front of the house) and announced that all the bookshelves in his room had to go. "Mom" he said, "I'm never going to read these books and I'm 13 years old." So I have to find another home for all 12 volumes of the Wizard of Oz and Road Building in Pictures. Damn. M wants a mini fridge in his room; A's microwave is sitting in hers, and suddenly we have 5 televisions. I think I liked it better when they decorated in spilled cereal and stuffed animals.