Halloween Fun

Punkin Boy dressed up as a cowpoke for the church "Fall Social and Trunk or Treat" (OK, so it was a Halloween party). Looking very cute and grown-up here.

What happens when you teach a Pirate Boy martial arts... Devilishly handsome, isn't he? (My sword is a little bit big for him still, I think.)

#1 Son opted to sleep instead of go to the party... he regretted it later. So no pictures of him today.

The Drugs Are Good

That was the pronouncement from a friend of a friend who finally got onto antidepressants. And it's been frequently heard around this area since The Man got onto Prozac last week.

I've been a big fan of Prozac since spring of '91, when it turned me from a bad-tempered, suicidal slug (only a slight exaggeration) into someone I'd never been before: someone who smiled and laughed and got things done and had so much to look forward to. And it happened instantly, for which I've always been grateful.

The Man has been an anti-fan of all kinds of medications for as long as I've known him, so it was hard for him to face taking pills long-term. The doctors all say it may take 3 to 5 weeks for the meds to reach full effect, and I was seriously worried that it really would in this case. I couldn't be sure he'd actually keep taking them if he didn't notice a difference soon.

But my fears were unfounded. He went from Mr. Hyde back to Dr. Jekyll in about 60 seconds. And there he has stayed. Still an off-the-wall brainiac, with no signs of the wild beast he'd been and no inclination to do evil apparent. My husband is back! The drugs are good.

On a Lighter Note

There's nothing quite as cute as Punkin Boy tippy-tapping on the laptop while he sings "White and Nerdy." Dude!

Boot to the Head

First, I just want to say that I was justified in never wanting to experience the life of a single mom. It is HARD. Fortunately, I was practically living that life already, so it's not been too shocking a transition. ;-)

Second, I want everyone to know that I feel better now than I've felt in months. It's such a relief not to be living with that rabid animal that was pretending to be my husband.

Third, and most important, I'm cautiously optimistic that the judicious application of a boot to the head and keister of my dearly beloved husband was just the wake-up call he needed to get rid of the rabies. Yes, it's abominable that it took something so severe, but no other method was working. This one seems to have. Take a look at his blog and see what you think. I'm hopeful that things can get back to good again.

The boot stands at the ready, though. And I'm not giving him a key to my house anytime soon. Must make it safe first.

Done, Done, Done

Well, I had to do it without the combat boots, and I couldn't stop myself from slapping his lying, cheating face, but he's gone. And I'm getting the locks changed tonight. And sleeping with one eye open and my fingers on the phone. The Man I know would never hurt me or the kids, he certainly wouldn't cheat on his wife or endanger his family, but The Man I know isn't here anymore. I wonder if he even exists still.

Hell Hath No Fury

Well, I found more answers. With pictures, even. I really wish I hadn't.

That's not true. I just wish the answers weren't what they are.

Note to Incrediboy: "Who I am" is a former spy. Never forget that.

Bang! Gotcha...

Oh I so want to swear. But I won't. I must be nice. I must absolutely not go to this house and get some answers about where my husband's been lately. But if any of you guys do, be sure to give the woman who lives there Elastigirl's regards. (And don't say a thing about tactical nukes; you'll ruin the surprise.)

Gimme an "E"!

I've been having kind of a rough time lately, as you can probably tell. Crying a lot, very confused about what to do next. But slowly, I'm recovering. For example, I've managed to get my eyelids to a more normal shape and color recently. What it took was a little help. When I needed to confront the problems in my first marriage, I had Tank Girl. This time, I saw the light one day when Punkin was watching this:

Helen: [sobbing] Now I'm losing him! What'll I do? What'll I do?
Edna: What are you talking about?
Helen: [stops crying] Huh?
Edna: [shouts] You are Elastigirl! My God...
[swatting Helen with a newspaper]
Edna: Pull-yourself-together! "What will you do?" Is this a question? You will show him that you remember that he is Mr. Incredible, and you will remind him who *you* are. Well, you know where he is. Go, confront the problem. Fight! Win!
[normal voice]
Edna: And call me when you get back, darling. I enjoy our visits.
~~~~~

I love E. She's so cool. I have managed to mostly snap out of it, though I still do have these crying jags. But all day, these words go through my head: "Remind him who you are!" Too bad that who he is is apparently kind of a jerk these days.