In Which Wii Bowling Ruins My Life
Yesterday @ 1 P.M.

Today @ 1 P.M.

It starts off badly, right in the parking lot. It's crowded, very crowded. I see someone pulling out of a spot on the end and am halfway in before another car appears out of nowhere, honking and yelling. I protest meekly before backing out and taking another spot down the row, only to realize that it's too narrow and I cannot open the doors and get the boys out of their seats.

I stand there, panicking. We are going to be late. Suddenly, three girls appear and offer to help. They know our names and I realize they know us from my blog.

Somehow, we're all inside. It's bigger than I remember -- more like a cavernous warehouse than a waiting room. There are dozens of people milling around rows of chairs and cafeteria tables. I check in with the front desk (Noah Storch, speech evaluation, 1 P.M.) and we're instructed to wait and listen for our names.

We wait. And we wait. There are books and toys but neither of the boys wants anything to do with any of them. Names are being announced over an echo-y loudspeaker that I can't understand. Noah has climbed up a bookshelf and when I leap to retrieve him I notice he's wearing a Pull-Up. Why is he wearing a Pull-Up? He doesn't wear Pull-Ups. I look at his face and hair's like he's morphed back into the two-year-old version of himself. And what's that awful sme...oh, GOD.

A woman appears, clearly annoyed. They've been calling our name for 20 minutes, why didn't we respond? I stammer an explanation and ask for five minutes and a changing table and am informed that if we forfeit this time slot we go to the back of the line. She questions the state of Noah's potty-training and I stammer again -- no, seriously, I'm so confused, he's totally trained, I don't know what's going on today -- she simply scribbles something on a clipboard and storms off.

Our turn comes up again and we're directed to a random set of chairs in the middle of the warehouse, and after I sit down I realize I have left the baby behind. I frantically look over and see that the three blog readers have appeared again. They are holding him, and nod to me reassuringly. It's okay, it's all okay.

I don't remember anything about the actual evaluation. It was too loud and I couldn't hear anything. We're waiting again. The toy area has been changed into some kind of stage, like for a puppet show. Ryan Seacrest hands me some sheet music and orders me to sing. I stand there and face a bored-looking audience, all uncomfortably perched on tiny preschooler-sized plastic chairs. Clipboard Lady comes midway through the song -- a showtune from Little Shop of Horrors, though not one I've ever heard before -- and tells me that the evaluation results indicate that I need a haircut. Luckily, they have someone on staff who can handle it.

I'm whisked out of the huge waiting area and through a series of cluttered rooms -- they look nothing like a school, but more like a grandmother's house, full of not-particularly attractive knickknacks. A woman surveys my hair and shows me some photos of other bloggers. Their hairstyles are all very short and I tell her that I don't look good with short hair. She tries to insist but I finally hold my ground. NO SHORT HAIR. I MEAN IT. She sighs and rolls her eyes at me, but wraps a brightly-colored knitted afghan around my neck and begins cutting, assisted by a cranky old man who looks like Noah's morning school bus driver. She makes about four snips with her scissors and my hair looks absolutely amazing. Then she asks for $750, plus another thousand for the evaluation. I gasp and tell her I don't have that much, and she removes the afghan and I'm in my underwear and Clipboard Lady asks about the whereabouts of my children and I realize I don't even know the names of the three blog readers but suddenly they are there too, without Noah or Ezra, and they shrug and say they can't help me anymore and I start crying and then I wake up and it was four in the morning and I've been awake ever since.


Noah has yet another evaluation today. For speech, at The Preschool. Starts at 1 P.M. I think it's going to go great!


Springsteen fan

Amy, it will be just fine since you exorcised every demon in your nightmare. Isn't there some Chinese folklore that if you have a nightmare re a speech evaluation it really means you'll win the lottery? Or something? Hang in there.



If your next post is a snotty nosed picture of you in a bed covered in tissues I'm totally calling you're pregnant! :)


Seacrest is such an ass. He didn't even give you time to prepare.

Don't give up your parking space for NOBODY.

Good luck today.


That is one vivid dream! Yikes.

Good luck today :)


Now that you've gone ahead and worked out all of your anxiety, there's nothing left that could shock you. I mean really, what could possibly happen in reality that would cause emotions as intense as the ones you dreamed? Oh wait, maybe you'll falls asleep. Yeah, that would be pretty bad. So... good luck!


Your dream just shows you the absurdity of the mind and nothing else. Really. You need an extra cup of coffee and maybe a xanax. No one would ever do a speech evaluation in a warehouse . . . would they? Anybody? Help?!?


It WILL go great. I just know it.


Your blog readers won't ditch you in extremis. They'll be too impressed by the fantastic haircut! I was hoping we'd come through for you the third time too.


Big (((HUGS))) Sweetie. I know this is extremely stressful but it will definitely go better than in your dream.


It certainly couldn't go worse than the dream-version, right? I have anxiety dreams like that before Big Important Stuff, too.

And while I won't be there in person helping to wrangle the boys, I'll be there in spirit cheering you and Noah on, okay? It's better this way, since you then I won't pass on my cold to ya'll.

You can do it! Noah can do it! It'll go great!


Oh, you poor thing! Anxiety is a bitch, isn't she?

Good luck today!! I'm sure he'll do great!


Yikes! The evaluation will go great.


Evaluations suck. It sucks to see your kid being forced to jump through hoops, it sucks to see them being measured on such an unforgiving scale, and it just sucks the energy and life right out of you.

On the other hand. If they tell you something good, or generate results that you can use as a tool to help him get the help he may need? Then they're a necessary evil.

Either way: good luck today, both with the evaluation and finding a good parking spot.


((((HUGS))))) I'm sure it will go smashingly!

And have I told you how great your hair looks today? ;)


You've got to think that it can't be worse than your dream! It can only go up from here.

What a crappy way to wake up. Sorry that happened to you.

Katie Kat

Ugh... I hate those kind of dreams - straight out of your subconscious! Don't let it rattle you. You've been on a really good path with Noah lately and that will undoubtedly continue!

Sprite's Keeper

No more wine before bed.
And the eval will go well. Just make sure you get that parking space!


I love that you dream about your blog readers, and yes, we would always be there to help you in times of need.


What a horrible dream. I always feel so unsettled for about a day after a dream like that.


Oh my god Amy, that's terrible. That's one of those dreams you wake up from and your freaked out and drenched in sweat.

Noah's going to rock it today!! No worries.

I can't wait to see pictures of your $750 haircut...


I think it's very telling that when it came to something important to you, your hair, you stood up for yourself and it turned out smashingly. Not that your kids aren't important but, hey, dream world priorities, and all that. *AND* you know you have friends, IRL and virtual, who will stand by you and help. I think you've got all the right stuff to be the successful advocate that Noah needs.


I can't wait to say "they know us from my blog". But alas that only happens in my dreams, too.

I hate those dreams when it's all chaos and distraction and horribleness and then suddenly I realize I cannot find my children!!!!

*hands Amalah a melatonin and a shot of tequila.*


Holy shit. You just gave me heartburn. I can't imagine the stress, Amy, but you'll be fine and he'll do GREAT. It'll be okay. I'm sorry you've been awake so long. Wish there was something we could do.


Best wishes today, and everyday.


Hugs out to you from a blog reader who would love to baby wrangle for you during an evaluation. Or anytime for that matter.

It'll be okay. And your hair does look amazing.


Just get Noah to poop BEFORE leaving the house. You *both* will do your best. Then? You deserve wine.


Hey you're right! I guess short hair is kinda common among bloggers. So funny!

But don't worry about today. There's nothing to fret. Good luck!

haitian american family of three

I was thinking, But WHY would they have it in a warehouse that's so loud! Then I realized it was a bad dream. I also had a super bad dream and now have dream hangover. I hope your real life experience is better than the dream...bring a friend to help with the baby if you can.


Oohh...that dream was rough! (Except for the awesome hair part.) My fingers are totally crossed for you to have calm nerves today. At least you can be relatively sure Ryan Seacrest won't be there this time.


You scared the life out of me! I am hoping and praying it goes well for you all today.


Those three blog readers couldn't help anymore, but the next shift had already been contacted and the kids are fine.
We (the collective blog readers) would never ditch Noah and Ez.

The appointment will be a piece of cake compared to that dream.


What a HORRIFYING dream. You need to go read back on your posts about the steps forward Noah's been making! Think about the backpack!!!!!

Noah is going to be fine, better than fine. Even if he takes a while to get there. :)

the bee

Cheering for you and Noah. It will be great. I have been where you are now and it all turns out ok.


Wow, that dream was a clusterf*** of awfulness. I think the actual evaluation may feel like heaven to you!


All of that PLUS Ryan Seacrest?? What a nightmare!

Prayers for a good and anxiety free evaluation today!

Parsing Nonsense

Wow, I had no idea all mom bloggers were supposed to have short hair!

That dream was just a dream, I'm sure it's going to go fine.

I'll tell you a story that will make you feel better. My brother got a call to go fix Ryan Seacrest's toilet, because apparently he clogged his toilet and couldn't get it unstuck.

So just imagine Ryan having flushed something embarassing, and my brother fishing it out, and then in your next dream you can tease him about flushing his tampons or somesuch.

Wild to Child

I hate dreams like that! Don't be worried, the evaluation is going to be just fine!



Crap! Well, think of this way: just about anything is an improvement from that!

Jessica (@It's my life...)

Ulp. With dreams like that who needs horror movies!
At the very least the eval won't include a Hollywood haircut...
Crossing my fingers that it went well!


I'm sorry, that dream sounds horrible. At least the reality has to be MUCH better. How did it go? Actually, my son had his evaluation today at 10am, and since I'm in LA, that means we were evaluating at the same time. Ugh. I am sooo drained right now.

College At Thirty

*awkward hugs that total strangers give each other*

Hopefully reality ended up being much better. If not, everyone should totally get together and potato bomb the evaluation center and the douche that took your parking place.

Seriously, though, I really do hope Noah wowed everyone, including you.


My name is Meegan. Seeing as how I might be one of the nameless blog readers in your dream, I thought I should introduce myself. I would totally help you if I could.

I hope Noah's speech eval went better than it did in your dream. Frankly, I'm not sure how it could have gone worse. So there's always that!


Just don't do the Kate Gosslen 'do. Or her new one. Not that it looks bad on her - but I can see you more with a cute rough-layered bob-ish type of look. But not hers - and longer.

Oh shit. Sorry about that.

Yeah - your kids. Yeah - they're gonna be fine honey. You will too.


Evals suck. But at least you knew, going in, that it could never be as bad as that dream. Hope all is well now and that you sleep better tonight. :)


Maybe I'm just really tired or maybe it's just proof of what a crazy day I've had, but I totally didn't realize it was a dream until you got to Seacrest. (even the play area turning into a puppet theatre - that could happen, right?) I was sort of wondering why Noah put himself in a Pull-up and was beginning to think he was purposefully trying to sabotage the evaluation for some reason - and was even going so far as to name jealousy towards Ezra as part of his potty training regression.

Oh God, I need sleep.


Damn. Hope tonight's dreams are full of handsome actors fawning all over you.


So in my dream? The taxi I'm in, the one that is supposed to take me to my sisters house in baltimore, takes me to DC instead. And out of nowhere, I am in your house, and we are hitting it off, and I'm all, "weird, how did the taxi driver KNOW that I know Amalah" and you're all friendly and don't mind at all that a total stranger has just landed on your doorstep. And then I wake up.

Just thought I'd mention it, while we're on the topic of strange dreams, oh and because I think our dreams are probably connected. I'm pretty sure I was on of the three fairy blog stalkers that abandoned you when noah pooped.



You're killing me.

It went OK, yes?

*Makes the International sign for CALL ME*

Sarah @

Good luck! I hope it went well =)


What it must be like in your head... ;-)

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