Noteworthy notes and such

So it's time for another posting, and there has actually been newsworthy events in my life--whodathunkit?
My daughter is now in softball, and I have to admit, I had fear after seeing what happened last year! Last year, the team was all but horrible. She was no exception. However, this year seems to be 180º different. She has some pretty good bat speed, and her catching is massively improved. I've been working with her to try to improve on it, but it was really great to see the difference in maturity and commitment. Once we got past the coach's inability to schedule anything more than 2 hours out, everything else seems to be churning along. The team as a whole still smells pretty bad, but at least they're not the worst team in the league anymore!
As for the boy, a diagnosis was made last week that should have been made two or three years ago--but wasn't. In the time when I was unable to initiate anything, I saw classic signs of ADD and dyslexia. When questioned about seeking help, my ex simply said, "He's not hyper enough." What?! What the hell is that? His mind is all over the place, and his handwriting resembles something written with his feet...in the dark...while stoned...standing on his head--a classic symptom of one type of dyslexia. Oddly enough, I am afflicted with severe dyslexia, making him a prime candidate. Once again, I was powerless to seek treatment. But, now that the ball is in my court, the diagnosis has been made--moderate-to-high-level ADD with possible dyslexia. His testing for dyslexia (and any other disabilities) will be next week. Hopefully we can get those problems treated, as well. It's just a shame that he had to suffer through three years of the obvious torment and frustration of these afflictions without anyone who was able to lift a finger doing anything.
Now that there is a diagnosis and treatment in place (72mg of Concerta daily), he has already shown marked improvement in his ability to complete tasks. Where he would previously leave things undone and forgotten about, he now completes the task, and has begun to work with multitasking. I just cringe every time I think about the frustration and absolute helplessness he must have felt all that time when there was a problem but no remedy. Hopefully now that will no longer be a problem--Super Dad to the rescue! (OK, so I feel good about it...so what?!)
I still see things with my ex moving in a divergent way. I saw a glimmer of hope several days ago, but it was just as quickly dashed away by inaction and complete denial. So now I just do what I have to do to get the job done, and when it comes time for the nut cutting, I'll be well-prepared for the occasion.
Again, I absolutely HATE the direction that the relationship I once had with her went. The title of "ex" doesn't necessitate anger and hatred. At least in my case it doesn't. I would like nothing more than to have the kind of relationship we once had, where we could hang out and laugh and talk about stuff and just be adults without all of the "ex" crap getting in the way. That's how it SHOULD be. That's how my wife and I would both like it to be. It's just a shame that it can't be.
Speaking of my lovely bride, she is currently in an ambulatory state at home, recovering from a thrashing she took at work on Wednesday last week. Apparently, an incompetent chickenshit colleague dumped off some "trouble" students into her class, one of which could be considered "at risk". Oh, and did I mention she was pregnant, too? So this girl decides to take it to the floor with another girl in the class, and in the heat of the moment, Leslie jumps in to try to break it up. For her efforts, she gets an elbow to the eye, then gets tossed around like a rag doll. The resulting back injury will keep her laid up for a few days in a drug-induced euphoria. Lovely bunch of homo sapiens, aren't they?
Now, keep in mind, I live 50 miles away, so I'm not at her disposal to assist with things like getting up to let the dog out, eating, and the inevitable bathroom visits. She ends up crawling from one place to the next, and when letting the dog out, she just has to hope that the dog will come back when she calls. I know it's short-term, but when I can't help when it's needed, it makes me feel somewhat like a buffet at a funeral home--useful, but in the wrong place.
So there you go. You're now up-to-date on the saga that is my life. I'll keep you posted on the goings-on as they come...but damn, I wish they wouldn't come so frequently! Until next time....