Wacky Waving Inflatable Arms Flailing Tube Man

Imagine, for a moment, this entirely absurd scenario - you wake up to find yourself face to face with 100 beautiful clones of you. All of these yous want to do everything you love to do - cook everything you've ever wanted to cook, talk about everything you love to talk about, listen to all the music you ever wanted to listen to, plant and harvest and grow all the things you've ever wanted to grow, play games and Facebook and twitter and imgur and Pinterest all day, do dishes and laundry and clean the house so sparkling clean, write those stories you always wanted to write, go hiking, learn a new language, start a new business, no, make that two, no THREE new businesses, throw a vase, go hunting, take dance lessons... They all want to do something different from every other you, and they all want to do it now. They talk at you incessantly, sometimes mumbling, sometimes yelling, always interrupting...well-mannered, polite, and filtered, these clones are not. There is no order, only cacophonous chaos.

Now your kids are getting up, and their energy is like adding 3 perpetually energized electrically charged bouncing rubber balls to the mix. They, of course, think the clones are great fun, because everything they want to do, well, there's at least ONE clone that wants to do that, plus PANCAKES!

THAT is ADHD. THAT is my every morning, day, afternoon, and night.  I have such grandiose plans, but am inundated with options until I am paralyzed with indecision. I am jacked up to the point of exhaustion, but I am too wired to sleep. I don't use coffee to stay awake, I use it to focus, and it doesn't work very well. I do things, but only parts of things. When I DO make a decision to act, it is often sudden with no advance warning. Where someone else reflects on a million points of light, I am trying to touch every single one simultaneously. Where someone is being driven to distraction, I am the vehicle. How long did it take me to write this? At this point, several months, but I'll really never know, because I'm never done.

There is a flipside. I see shit that no one else sees. I can hold a dozen conversations at the same time. I can MacGuyver the fuck out of anything on a moments notice. I'm funny as hell. I handle anxiety and stress exceptionally well, and recover from conflict remarkably fast. When necessary, I actually, truly "multitask" like a motherfucker. As a parent, I can attend 3 vibrant, confident, energetic individuals at the same time - and keep up! And, when properly medicated, I can hone my skills with laserlike precision. Yes, medicated. And yes - it works. I take 2 little pills of something called Methylphenidate, and I am FOCUSED. I am no longer Wacky Waving Inflatable Arms Flailing Tube Man. I am...LASERBEARD. DUN DUN DUHHHHHHHN. I can get shit DONE. Oh, the things I have accomplished. (Now, I just have to work out the kinks with the dosage, and, hopefully, a semblance of peace and normalcy can be attained.)

So please - tell me ADHD is not a thing. Tell me I'm just a daydreamer that needs to learn "self-control." Tell me I'm undisciplined. Lazy. Lack motivation. "Hyper." I've heard it all, and I've heard every layman's "cure." And I'll tell you this - you're full of shit. I know purely from my own experience that you are  full of complete and utter bullshit. I am the EMBODIMENT of ADHD. It's not a fucking choice. ADHD is very real. I speak from my own life's experience, of course, but there are also at least 200 years worth of documented research and experience to prove it.^1  I implore you - don't dismiss me as a daydreamer, or inattentive, or bored, or dumb. Me, or anyone like me. It really is not a choice. We are who we are, every one of us, and beautiful as all fuck.

Crazy?! I Was Crazy Once...

Me:"I'm so hungry, I could eat a cow."
Biscuit:"Jesus is a cow."
Boogs:"Yep. A girl cow. Actually, Jesus was godzilla."
Me:"Wait, wha-." 
Ro:"Actually, Godzilla was a dinosaur."
Me:"Hold o-"
Boogs:"That's what I said - Jesus is a T-Rex."
Biscuit:"Yep. Jesus was a girl T-Rex."
Me:" Oh no you DON'T. Now I know you are trying to fuck with my head. Screw this - I'm making myself a sammmich."
*backs slowly from the room, eying all occupants warily...*

We All Gunna Die!

I repeat - every goddamn day is an exercise in keeping them from killing themselves and/or each other.
Today's exhibit - observe the fuzzy little honey bee. Is it a deadly deadly space bee? No,  just an ordinary honey bee, flitting from flower to flower, doing its honey bee business. It is worthwhile to note that this bee is half the distance of our backyard from my children.
Boogie:(pointing emphatically across the yard)"GAH! ROMAN! A BEEEEEEEEEE!"
Roman:(screaming just as shrilly)"BEEEEEEEEEEEE! AAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH!"
Gaius:(from across the yard, on the other side of the bee, seizing the first implement he can find, which happens to be his bow rake, and, having no knowledge of the actual location of the bee, runs full tilt right past it, directly at his siblings, flailing his weapon about, a berserk maniacal imp, screaming at the top of his lungs)"AHHHH THAAAAAAAAVE YOUUUUUUUUUU!!!"
Me:(using the special roar - You know the one)"STAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHP!" and disaster was, again, averted by the narrowest of margins.

There is no Daddy, only Zu'ulllll

R:"Daddy, why does your bed go "EEE-ERR EEE-ERR EEE-ERR -"
Me:"Because you shut the hell up, that's why."
R:(grinning)"Ha ha ha! No, seriously. I'm serious. Your bed goes "EEE-ERR" ALL THE TIME."
Me:"You want the truth? Okay - it's not the bed. We're building a boat for all of god's animals-"
R:(interrupting)"HA! Nahhhhh...you're kiddin'..."
Me:(sighing)" Okay. For reals this time. So, here's the thing - when two people love each other very much, there are monsters that try to -"
R:"Nahhh-"
Me:"I'm serious. Just shut up and listen. When two people love each other very much, there are monsters that try to get in your brain, your heart, and kill that love. Goblins and ghouls and ghosts -"
R:"AND WEREWOLVES!"
Me:"And werewolves... Those monsters have names like "Insecurity" and "Fear" and "Nightmare". Mommy and Daddy have to fight these monsters together, and by doing so, make our armor of luuuuuv stronger. Most often, talking and active listening are the best way to deal with the bogeymen. Remember active listening? (R nods) That is one of the most powerful tools in our arsenal. But we also really like the hands-on approach to battling the monsters. When you hear the noises you're not supposed to be hearing because you're not supposed to be up, that's Mommy and Daddy bustin' out some kick-ass ninja moves to power up our love armor and defeat the brain-goblins."
R:(eyeing me skeptically)"Is that real?"
Me:"Sure is. But here's the thing - it takes all of our concentration to fight these monsters, so you can NEVER interrupt us. NEVER OPEN THE DOOR. In fact, it's best if you just go right back to bed and right back to sleep, because if you interrupt us for any reason, the goblins will suck our faces right off! And then they WILL EAT OUR SOULS!!!"
R:"AAAAGGGH!!! REALLY?! IS THAT TRUE?!"
Me:"Do you want to take the chance that it isn't?"
R:"NO!"
Me:"Then stay in bed when you're supposed to be sleeping and stay the hell away from our room when the door is closed!"

What's New, Pussy Cat?

Growing out my beard. It's kind of like having a warm kitty wrapped around my face. And we all know how much I like having my face buried in a soft, velvety p- scratch that. It's like a sweater. A nice, warm innocent, not naughty sweater for my face and neck.

Also, pubes.

Go Nuts!

On vasectomies - it doesn't fucking hurt, motherfuckers. And it hurts one one millionth the amount of pain a woman endures when she undergoes a hysterectomy, or a tubal ligation. "But how would you know? You've never had a hysterectomy, or a tubal..." BECAUSE I'VE HAD A VASECTOMY, JACKASS. IT DOESN'T FUCKING HURT.  I even got to watch the whole procedure. They offered to let me take the two little pink bucatini-looking bits home and everything. There's a pinch, and a day or 2 of discomfort, where you are encouraged to lie around with a sack of peas on your nuts. You get a little downtime, some sympathy, and you're a fucking HERO for not making her go through all that shit. Might even get some victory head. Who knows?

So if you're looking for a good, effective solution to not having any(more) children, get that shit done, and quit being a whiny fuckhead.

P.S. Also, if you're in a safe relationship, you don't have to wear a rubber anymore. Which means SHE has to go cleanup. BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Ahem...

WhoWhatWhereWhenWhy Wednesday!

WhoWhatWhereWhenWhy Wednesday is upon us! As always with this longstanding, time honored tradition that I just made up here at Legend of Greybeard, I will be fielding whichever questions I so deem inappropriate. But first, a question for YOU - Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat...does the fox say? BWAHAHAHAHA.

I don't think it's supposed to do that

Fun fact: beet juice can make your pee turn pink, or even red. Which is a really, really good thing to know. Especially BEFOREHAND. Especially if you're a bit of a hypochondriac. GAH!

Heh Heh Heh

My love:"Ouch. I'm all stiff from doing yardwork..."

Me:"I'm all stiff from watching you do yardwork. Rowr."

Sucker

Biscuit:"Daaaad...wuth for brefith?"

Me:"Oven-roasted potatoes and eggs."

B:"I don't waaaaaant po-tay-tooooooooooes..." - then, taking a sudden detour from his normal kickpunching, brainsmashing whine -*big puppy eyes* "if you acthidently made a thamwich, I would eat it for you, cuth I LOVE thamwiches..."

Aw crap.

Wait, what?! How'd that sammmich get there?

Jelly of the Month Club

Since everyone is on about their annual reviews - My annual review was SPECTACULAR.

I was all "how'd we do this year?"

And I was like "We fucking rocked it!"

"Fuck YEAH! High-five, me!"

"Hey kids! How'd I do this year?!"

"What year?"

"The 365 days preceding December 30 somethingth."

"He means two thousand thirteen."

"Oh! Yeah! You did awesome, Dad!"

"Yeah! Awethum!" *holds 2 thumbs way up*

"Sweet! High-fives!"

Aaand now they are working on writing reviews for me.

A Very Particular Set of Skills

Had a bike trailer stolen off my front porch a couple nights ago. It's not much the trailer that bothers me, as it is the smegheaded fuckwad that had the audacity to invade our sanctum. Now I cant fucking sleep. It's just a trailer, right? Yeah. But what if the hopped-up ass-monkey returns for a little B&E? That's a threat to the security of my children. FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.