Robots, Hairbows and String Cheese

My worry for my children

2012-02-11T20:01:00.000-08:00

The worry I feel for my children seems at times insurmountable. It weighs heavy in me...burying itself deep into my core. It gnaws at my gut and at times, overwhelms me with emotion. It started when my oldest was still growing in my womb. When at 6 weeks into my first pregnancy, like many women, I spotted. I was terrified. Beyond terrified, really. More like inconsolable. And after the ultrasound and the reassurance that the baby was alive and thriving, I still convinced myself I was going to screw this up--that some way I would not carry this baby to term. And I said to myself that if that were to happen, I would lay down on the ground and never get back up. I fretted and distressed and not until 20 weeks did I feel any sense of relief at all. That was when we had another ultrasound and I saw moving, working parts. He wiggled his hands and flexed his feet back and forth. I cried. He worked. So far, nothing was broken. I was high with excitement, but it was short lived. I walked around in a mental bubble. Protecting my unborn child with my life if I had to. The momma bear in me was already fiercely protective of her cub.

I delivered a healthy, happy baby boy. And after adjusting to breastfeeding and diaper changing, was starting to feel secure. Then 9-11 happened. My son was 4 weeks old and I was feeding him as I watched the newscast of the first tower on fire. My first thought was a pilot had a heart attack and it was a tragic accident. But then while still holding him in my arms, the second plane hit. And we knew we were under attack. I remember looking at him and just sobbing, apologizing to him for bringing him into the world when it was like this. Terrified about an uncertain future for him. And I just said to him over and over "I'm so sorry."

Time passed. The world adjusted. My boy grew. But he had challenges. At first, small, but then developing into larger and more pressing issues. It took 9 years to get a complete diagnosis. Asperger's with Sensory Integration Disorder. The years have seen so many ups and downs. So many battles--losses and victories. A special needs child comes with a unique playbook of worries.

Now I find myself with a middleschooler who is bullied and taunted. We have seen teachers who care tremendously for him and others who cringed when he walked in the door. We have sat through countless meetings and testings and "feel good" BS meetings. All the while, I worry, fret, pace the floor, wring my hands, cry myself to sleep. Most days, all I can do to get through is cross my fingers and pray that he has a good day. Please, God, don't let the teachers give up on him. Please let them see the good in him. Please don't let his peers wear him down or take the love out of him. And please, I beg, please don't let him give up on himself.

Six years ago, a sister came along. And my world was fought with worry for her, as well. Girls come with their own special set of stomach churning concerns. In first grade she already finds herself inadequate. She thinks other girls are pretty and she "looks weird" because of her freckles and red hair. I tell her every day how beautiful she is. Not a day passes where she is not told "I love you" by both her father and myself. She is daring and headstrong and honestly, not afraid of much. We brag about her and laugh with her and take notice of all of her creations. And yet, she says she has a "fat tummy" and cries when she makes a simple mistake. At six years of age, she is already placing the weight of the world on her shoulders. And it scares the living daylights out of me.

It is in the moments when I cannot make my kids feel better that I feel like a complete failure to them. I don't know how to love them more than I already do. My heart aches and begs and longs for them to feel the depth of my commitment to them. For them to be able to crawl back into my arms and stay safe from the world. Of course, my rational side knows that sheltering them from that same world is not in their best interest. I won't live forever and to make them think that I will be is the cruelest thing of all. But that momma bear in me...she's fierce. And she wants her cubs safe.

My mind wanders with the "what ifs" What if they believe all of the crap people tell them? What if they have low self esteem and hate themselves? What if they hate everyone else so much that they loose the positivity and shut us all out? What if they run with the wrong crowds and make the wrong choices. What if they make really stupid mistakes that get them kicked out of school or worse thrown into jail? What if they hate their parents and the world so much they take off or hurt themselves? What if, what if, what if.

What if I decided not to worry my life away? What if I decided to trust in my children and trust in myself? What if I am, after all, a good mom and exactly what these babies of mine need?

If there is a Worrier's Anonymous, I could probably be the President. But at the same time, I only want the best for my children-like every other mother in the world. Isn't that our job? To advocate for our babies and to equip them for survival. If they are not feeling secure and confident, who really failed them?

It's a journey and there are many mountains yet to climb. But I am trying. Honestly trying and with every step I mean nothing but the best.

Isolation

2011-03-04T06:43:00.000-08:00

In the last post, I discussed distractions and how they prevent you from reaching your goals. Today I am thinking a lot about the ways evil worms between us and those around us to make us feel isolated and alone.

My daughter is selling Girl Scout cookies. It has only been 4 days and she is already over $100.00 in sales. There are a bunch of people we have not even approached yet, but I still find myself humbled that so many people are willing to help my daughter. These are not strangers. Only friends and family. And there are so many more of them than I feel like I have when I picture my circle in my mind.

I remember feeling similar on the day of my wedding rehearsal. I was overwhelmed to look at the sea of faces. People who had travelled--some far, some close--and given up their time for an evening with us. People who were there to do nothing but celebrate the union of myself and my husband. People completely void of agendas. It was a warm, embracing cloud of respect, support and love. And I remember it bringing tears to my eyes.

But when I am down (and we all get down from time to time) that cloud seems to vanish and it is as if those moments never existed. Evil builds a wall--a wall designed to block my vision and encourage self-pity. It wants to entrap me. It wants to isolate me. It wants to make me feel alone and helpless and hopeless.

And sometimes is does.

It throws me to the bottom of a deep, cavernous hole.

Sometimes I cry and lash out. I push away those that love me most. I hold grudges and scream to the skies. And on my worst days I curse myself--tear myself down and lynch my own spirit.

But then...the Light has a way of working its own way through the crack, doesn't it? Slowly, cautiously, the Light flows around the locks and bars and shields you place around your heart. It floods into the hole, at first blinding us and gradually, warming us, surrounding us in calm and clarity.

And we are once again enlightened.

When you feel like you are alone--like there is no one you can talk to, no one that would understand what you are going through--I encourage you to make a list of those who do little things for you everyday. Grand gestures are wonderful, but the little things are what keeps the world running. And before you even realize it, you will see the Light is working to keep you happy and whole every day, in every moment and with every breath you take.

Excuses

2011-02-23T06:13:00.000-08:00

Just as soon as you start to come out of the fog and begin discovering a few things about yourself, the devil is right there to stir the pot. The last two weeks have been nothing short of chaotic.

As you know, I have been on a journey with the goal of having more harmony and unity in my life.

The exact opposite has been going on recently.

We have had family illnesses, doctor's appointments, disappointments, medical emergencies, feline distress, arguments, hurt feelings, tears, fears, and a lot of worry. All of these things giving me a perfect excuse to put off my goals for another day and host a series of pity parties instead. Have I ever mentioned how utterly exhausting having these parties are? My mind is scrambled. My soul is exhausted.

I have been told on a couple of occasions recently that I need to find at least 30-45 minutes PER DAY to pamper myself. The closest I come to this is car line. I get there early on purpose. I grab a good book, turn on the Symphony channel on the radio and just get some quiet in my day. It is actually a 40 minute respite. But never seems long enough.

It is in those moments I am glad I only teach part time. I feel like I am constantly on the go. Stay at home moms rarely stay at home. Maybe when the children are babies and staying home is easier than taking the whole house with you to the grocery store. But when they are school age, your time does not magically multiply. I thought I would get bored. I worried I would just sit around all day. Now I wish I could.

But then I also wonder, if I worked full time, would I let something go? Would I feel as much pressure to be all and do all? Would I feel obliged to volunteer for everything that came along? Would I feel the push to keep the house clean and the dinner cooked? Or would I surrender a bit more? I doubt it. I am sure I would have an even bigger Superwoman complex than I do now.

When will we cease to run away from the things that make us whole? If, as a human being, you need to maintenance your mind by having a few moments to do whatever it is that makes you who you are, then why do we deny ourselves. Why do we withhold to the point of cruelty? Our teeth need daily brushing to stay clean. Our bodies need nutritious meals to stay strong. Our skin requires daily cleansing to stay healthy. Would we deny ourselves any of these? Would we cease drinking until we died of dehydration? Would we forgo movement until our muscles atrophied and hearts gave out? Does our mind not need exercise and therapy for clarity?

Our bodies have innate needs, most of which we meet on a daily basis. Maybe we don't eat the right things or go to a gym, but for the most part, we keep our bodies moving and living. But our minds we fail to pamper. We take it for granted. I think that when we are feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, it is a cry from our mind to slow down. Someone hit your internal warning button and you need to pay attention.

My button has been pushed. And I am trying to pay attention. I just need to find the time. (that's sarcasm, by the way)

Are you hearing the warning bell sound?

A Journey

2011-02-05T08:33:00.000-08:00

How many of you have squashed a dream? Stuffed it away, beat it down, denied its existence? I am betting most of us have. I am willing to say the vast majority of us do not lead authentic lives. That's to say we did not follow our passion. We took the safer, more practical route.

I know I did.

The first story I remember writing was a short story called "The Flower." It was about two flowers who were best friends, but are separated one day when one of the flowers gets picked. But there was a happy ending when the next day the second flower was picked and was reunited with her best friend in a flower vase display. I typed it up on a typewriter, illustrated the pages and bound the book with yarn. My first book. I was six.

My favorite part of elementary school was the weekly treat of creative writing. We would be called into the hall one by one to visit with a typist in a small supply closet. She would give us a writing prompt and she would then type our response on paper. We got to color the page and display our stories in the hall. I LOVED this more than anything else at school.

By the time I was in 4th grade I wrote book reports on the likes of Agatha Christie. I remember submitting a diorama based on her book "The ABC Murders" in which I laid out one of my "dead" Barbies to reenact the murder scene. Most kids chose books like "Where the Red Fern Grows" or "Little House on the Prairie." I didn't mind being different back then.

In 5th grade I was discovering the lure of the world. The librarian would save me copies of the New York Times. I loved seeing how life was in another part of the country. About this time my paternal grandfather started gifting me subscriptions to Reader's Digest. He did this until I graduated, feeling that there was a great deal to learn from the magazine. He was right. Lots of things were reader submitted. Jokes, personal accounts. This is the first time I tried submitting something for publication. I never heard back on my knock knock joke.

At some point, my mother showed up with a huge box of National Geographic. The pictures and stories were fascinating, beautiful, haunting, and sometimes gory. But I marveled at the world I had yet to discover. Someday, I told myself, I would go to these places and see them for myself. I just had to make it out of the countryside of East Tennessee. Away from all of the green. I convinced myself I hated the color and longed for a life in the city. Someplace gray I told myself. That was where the real action was--the real stories.

I wrote poetry. I won a handful of small local contests. I was published in a national anthology. At first I was excited. Then I started telling myself they let anyone with half a brain into those things. This is when I started selling myself short.

In high school I enjoyed writing essays. I found I was really very good at it. I was faster than everyone else and always got 100s. In 11th grade I was moved to Advanced English. Until then I was considered mediocre as a student. Finally something I excelled at. But I was scared. I had nightmares about the first day of school. I felt like a farce. I was a C/D student going into an advanced level class. This is when I started pretending I was something I was not.

By the time we got to term papers, I wrote a few papers for other students. They had picked up on my speed and insecurity to fit in. But I didn't mind, really. It didn't matter what I was writing about as long as I got to write. One kid even paid me 15 bucks for a short 2 page essay--which was a really good deal to me since I could knock that out in 30 minutes or less.

About this time I decided to try and submit poetry to a few magazines. I received across the board rejections. My practical mind knew this was to be expected. My pride took it as a hard hit. I just let it feed into my feelings of inferiority.

I took a creative writing class senior year that really re-lit the bug. I even won the award that year for Creative Writing Student of the Year. I was picked by the teacher who I had made curse in class one day. We were arguing over a subjective question and I backed her into a corner. I thought she hated me, but I think she admired my passion.

In college I majored in Creative Writing. I took classes with other writers for the first time in my life. And even though I made A's and got tons of compliments from others, I felt insignificant next to their prose. I let the negativity seep in more than ever. I never submitted the works they suggested.

At this time I was madly in love. My life was completely revolving around my boyfriend. All I wanted to do was marry him and write. I gave up on my idea of moving to NYC and writing for a major print publication in lieu of staying close to him. He felt we needed stability, good paying jobs and security before we got married. His practicality perfectly balanced my idealism. And I decided to have a back up plan. Of course, my goal was to write. I could do that on the side. Surely, I could find a job with my English degree. It was generic enough. But as a back up I could always teach. I actually started thinking about teaching in high school. I admired my English teachers, but older kids scared me. The younger the better. So I majored in Child and Family Studies thinking that this was a good plan B.

I graduated and went on the great job search. Ends up English degrees over qualify you for jobs like Travel Agent or Administrative Assistant. They under qualify you for state level jobs in anything but teaching. And they are great for newspaper jobs like proofreading or part time writing. But with student loans and rent to pay, I could not survive on 7 bucks an hour. After a lot of depression and tears, I went back to plan B. I would teach.

I went on to get a Master's in teaching because that was the fastest route at this point. In the mean time, I married my love. He started working full time and I focused on student teaching. I cried all the way through it. I hated every moment. I knew then I did not want to teach full time.

I stopped writing. The ideas continued to flow, but I could not bring myself to believe in my dream anymore. I had to focus on the practical side. And teaching did allow me to use my creativity. Especially with younger children. So, I taught preschool. Within ayear, I was having some sort of break down and quit. I was miserable.

I took a job for the local library. I was finally back in the world of literature. I started thinking about writing again. I let my heart open back up to the possibility. I worked with people who loved books and were extremely well read. But I had shut off the part of my mind long ago and was feeling a bit stunted. So, I played along as well as I could, but still feeling like a total impostor. The old voices of doubt started whispering in my ear again when something else happened. I fell in love all over again.

With my son.

Is it a Kleenex commercial that says having a baby changes everything? Boy, they weren't kidding. I could not leave this sweet baby. He needed me and I needed him. So, I quit to stay home. But needing ways to make money, I looked for online work. I found it. Tutoring at home. Back to education I trudged. And I kept that job for 7 years. I worked my way up to supervisor and I really loved the contributions I made there. I got to write every day. There was nothing creative going on and the writing was purely technical in nature, but I was writing. Just like high school. It didn't matter what I wrote as long as my brain was thinking.

Another child came. More bills. More responsibilities. I continued teaching, moving back to preschool. I have found teaching to be much less cumbersome once I became a parent. I really needed to experience that change before I could appreciate children fully.

So teaching has become my way to pay the bills. And I do like it. Now I can embrace it. In the past, it felt like that was what I did as the result of failing in writing. But I slowly started allowing writing to creep back into my life through the past couple of years. The first thing I did was start this blog. I dared myself to move. Baby steps, long pauses, but I did move.

Second, I applied and was accepted for a job writing articles for an online company. The work is again, technical, and I primarily write about education, but I am getting myself used to the editorial process. My old enemy, Self Doubt, loves to use critique against me. And that was one of my major stumbling blocks over the years. With time and maturity, I am learning how to accept judgement. How to use it for self help instead of self destruction.

Once these paths began to reopen and I was willing to accept the challenge, I found myself inspired to reach my ultimate goal. To write a novel. I have worked on my book, Thaw, for over a year and a half. Most of the time, the words flowed out of me automatically. Other times, I was blocked and struggled to write one sentence. But I stuck with it and finished my manuscript this past December. I was so happy, I cried. It was my moment to say, "I told you I could do it." And then I got a visit from my old enemy.

I started researching literary agents. And then I came across the technical specifications for novels. Until a book is oer 45,000 words, it is not considered a novel. Mine was around 43,000. Simply a novella. I failed. Again. And Self Doubt really stuck it to me. He wanted me to feel the full impact. How dare I try to achieve something so lofty. So unpractical. You stupid, worthless fool.

I sat for a month and had a pity party. Self Doubt was fantastic host, as usual. And then, I just decided enough was enough. What was holding me back? 2,000 words? I just plucked 43,000 words out of my mind and I was going to stop because I was 5% short? I was already 95% of the way there!

In the past two weeks I have belted it out. I have over 45,000 words in my manuscript now. It may be a short, easy read, but it is a novel, my friends. A true novel.

I told you I could do it.

Goals, NOT resolutions

2011-01-26T09:51:00.000-08:00

In my last installment, I introduced you to the first of three areas I am working on: organization. I need to simplify the flow of my household and that started with the symbolic gathering of Legos.

My second area of improvement is physical. I want to loose about 20 pounds before the end of March. If I will do that remains to be seen, but more on that in another post.

My third area for concentration is more than body health...it is mental health. An overall sweep of my agendas, my esteem, my strength, my direction.

When I was younger, I used to read the obituaries every day. In fact, one of the reasons I stopped subscribing to the paper was because this daily ritual, the study of the dead, was depressing and self deprecating. I read each stranger's life story, taking in the details. Teachers, deacons, preachers, doctors, police officers, entrepreneurs, wives, sisters, mothers. They were loved, celebrated, lauded. Then there were others who had no family to speak of, no prestigious career. It would simply say a name and a location for burial. Those bothered me the most. Because they always forced me to think, "What will my obituary read like?"

I have to say overall, I am pleased with my life. More than pleased...proud. I am proud to say I am an educator and a writer. I am a caring mother and loving wife. I am a volunteer and advocate. I am, simply, me. But there is something else. Something more that is missing.

As if I am not busy enough as it is. I write. I teach preschool. I run a home sales business. I volunteer for school. I am about to start a Girl Scout Troop and battle the masses in the great cookie sale. I am even considering a run for PTO, which I think may be more intense than a bid for US President. But still, I long for something more. A cohesiveness. A harmony. Not just in this particular area but in all the three goals for 2011. (And yes, notice I said GOALS, not resolutions. A goal is something that may actually still be here in 3 months time. If I called these resolutions, I have officially set in motion the kiss of death. No, a goal is much more attainable and realistic.) I need my body, my mind and my home to work as a group. Not struggle against one another for my attention. I need to work with the ebb and flow, not swim against it. I want to breathe.

My plan? This blog, for one, will make me self-accountable. Number two, aiming high. I don't give myself nearly enough credit. I am a capable woman. I manage to take on all of these projects, but continuously feel like I fail at them. Have I actually fallen short on even one? No. In my mind I suck. The reality: I am pretty darn cool. I may not be top of my class, homecoming queen, first one asked to join the team cool, but I hold my own. And when the chips are down, I don't run away.

So here goes nothing. Time to be courageous. My immediate goals? Organizing a Ladies Expo for my direct sales business. Keeping this blog up to date. And finally, adding those last 241 words to my novel and submitting it to a literary agent. Without the fear of rejection. Sure, I am going to inevitably be turned down, but I can resubmit. Sure, I may not get a single new customer from the Expo, but at least I tried something. And I may not have one single person read this post. But who cares? It's not about your reaction to me. It's about my reaction to myself. About finding my own strength. My own harmony. And mixing that will all areas of my life. Until my cup runneth over.

What are your goals for 2011. Resolutions are not allowed...

Airing my dirty laundry

2011-01-12T12:42:00.000-08:00

So, my little blog has been neglected to the point of death. So, I am resurrecting it...piecing together the remaining bits and pieces, creating new things, and even sticking in some things I have borrowed...my own, personal Frankenstein.

I have spent the last year working on myself and my career goals. There are three things in life that I enjoy doing and I am doing all of them right now. I love writing, teaching and interior design. I currently have jobs in all three areas. Life is good.

But, there is a yearning in my soul for more. (Isn't there always?) I have more goals to make, more achievements to reach for. And I want to use this--my brought from the dead blog--to document my journey.

One of my tasks for this year is organization and streamlining. I already started by purging and reorganizing my pantry.

Isn't she lovely? At least for a dark, small hole in the wall?

And in the aftermath of the toy bomb otherwise known as Christmas, I found myself literally collapsing under a mountain of Legos. The Boy has an extensive collection of Legos thanks to Jolly Old St. Nick and his friendly family of elves. And he has very limited space in which to put them. Every time I passed his room, my throat welled up. I found breathing difficult. I wanted to gouge out my eyeballs. It. Was. Painful.

When I could no longer handle the chaos, I started digging my way out of the mess. One brick at a time. Here is what I had to work with.

Oh, woe is me! In his defense, the white storage unit is new and was just hanging out in the middle of the room until I was ready to get serious, but still. Woe. Is. Me.

There was dust.

And disgust.

And surprises.

Like toys actually behind the baseboard.

But a few nails, a spray cleaner and 5 hours later, I arrived to this!

The storage unit is from Ikea and holds different sets of Legos (Star Wars, Atlantis, Pirates, Hero Factory, etc) I installed a bar which I hung six blue cups from and organized the bricks by color into those. I installed 2 shelves to hold completed projects and protect them from The Girl. And the pocket holder nailed to the wall holds all of the instruction books for the kits.

I moved the bed to the adjoining wall. This freed up the longer wall for a dedicated Lego area. The Boy loves the idea of spying on people through the window while still laying in bed.

Finally, I can breathe.

More projects to come!

More Bits of Wisdom

2010-05-24T07:20:00.000-07:00

The Boy: Where are you going?

Me: To the store.

The Boy: Well, who is going with you?

Me: Me, myself and I

The Girl: Nuh-uh! Jesus is in your heart, so he is going too!

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After a particularly heinous whining streak in which The Girl was demanding access to one of The Boy's toys, she finally asks her brother in a polite and acceptable manner if she can play with it. At first he refuses. So, Mom has to intervene.

Me: Please let her have it. We need to show her that when she asks nicely she can have it. (Little do I know that the wheels are already turning. See, he has been trying in vain to play on my IPhone all afternoon. And I have continually told him no all day)

The Boy (in his most respectful voice): Mom, may I pretty please use your IPhone?

Me: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (Crap! I hate it when they turn the tables on me)

Techno Geek: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Can someone please explain to me...

2010-05-04T14:04:00.001-07:00

...why these two men were in my dream last night?

Ponch and Jon wanted to rescue me from a foreign beauty pageant were a secret association was killing off cells of international police groups. They wanted to bring me back to the LA precinct to work with them. Techno Geek thinks I watch too much TV. That may well be...

Out of the mouths of babes

2010-04-29T06:22:00.000-07:00

I did not know that...The Girl: "Don't you know vagina is Spanish for bottom?"

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Yes, even 4 year olds can manipulate. :) After a sharp scolding from me to both kids, the Girl follows me around until she can pin me down and give me a long hug. As my heart melting, she runs off to brag the following to the boy: "See? Now Mom isn't mad at me and I can do whatever I want!"

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My children have been taught that the expression "Duh" is disrespectful and not to be said in the house. The other day, I was asking The Girl a question with a painfully obvious answer. I saw her pull her shirt over her mouth and then she looked at me like she had just done something wrong. Then she says, "I really, really needed to say 'DUH" but I didn't want you to hear me."

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I really wish my 8 year old said some lighthearted, silly things these days, but you know when you are in 3rd grade, life. is. serious. Maybe one day...

2010-04-28T19:57:00.000-07:00

Poor little neglected blog...

Like the new look?

2010-04-08T14:38:00.001-07:00

I have been working on my bling, making it more my style than the templates that come with the Blogger site. It's only been two years!

You can tell I am not a superstar about properly taking care of my little site here.

I have had so many ideas in the cooker, marinating, and the time just escapes me...and before you know it, the idea dissolves before I can get the words out of me.

I could tell you about the strep going through my house right now...the puke I have been cleaning up...the explosive diarrhea. But I will spare you the visuals and just say I still have more ideas stewing.

I definitely want to feature a series of before/after shots throughout my house. We have lived here 7 years and have worked really hard on bringing our groovy 1974 split level into the 21st century. I want to write more about the kids and the mischief they find themselves in. And I want to share my pitiful to you, but super cool to me crafts and projects that decorate my home.

Mostly, I just want to share myself. To put my musings out into the cosmos and just see what comes of it. I may not update every week...heck, I may not update every month...but I do want to blog and I want to invite you to please, feel free to come along for the intermittent ride. :)

Family Menu Planning--A PSA

2010-03-29T15:52:00.000-07:00

Come, take a journey with me...a journey into menu planning. A journey that may just save your sanity...

Twice a year I find myself thinking about family menus. I like to plan my the season, combining Spring/Summer and Fall/Winter. I write down 4 weeks worth of menus and just keep rotating those weeks month to month. I have found that it really makes planning and grocery shopping far easier! Believe it or not, you really get a sense of common ingredients your family uses (stock up on sales!) which in the long run, helps slash those grocery prices.

I know, I know...sales! You must shop by the sale. This never worked for me. Number one, I am brand loyal. Number two, I don't have time to look through circulars or clip coupons. Again, saving my sanity here people.

NOT ME

Yet, still, with my meal planning method, I feed our family of four on about 500.00 per month. Sure, I could do cheaper but organic and fresh foods rarely have coupons anyway.

Oh yes, I run into meals that just do not work and I have to cross them off my list on a dark and stormy night. No one in the family ever hears of them again...But for the most part, it all works out well in the end.

So, instead of feeling like this when I make a grocery list:

I feel a bit more like this:

"But how? How can I get some of this serenity for myself?" you ask. Well, like a good neighbor, Desperately Seeking Sanity is there....

Here are our family plans for this past fall/winter and this upcoming Spring/summer. If you want a recipe, leave me a comment. Hope it gives you some inspiration! Just think of the foods your family likes, do a little internet research, flip through a few dust covered recipe books. In no time, you will have a list too!

Spring/ Summer Menu (April-Sept)
Week 1
1. Grilled Sausage and Onion subs/fries
2. Slow cooker Mac & beef
3. Soft tacos/fresh salsa and guacamole
4. Margarita pizzas
5. Pasta Roll ups with meatballs

Week 2
1. Club Roll ups/PB& J sushi rolls, chips
2. Fish with lemon pasta
3. Taco pizzas
4. Chicken Picatta
5. Peppers & Pasta

Week 3
1. Slow cooker BBQ sandwiches/corn/baked beans
2. Capallini Pomodoro
3. Summer breakfast: quiche, ham, French toast and muffins
4. Angel Hair Pesto, peas & carrots, crusty bread and salad
5. Greek calzones
6. Taco salads/quesadillas

Week 4
1. Sub sandwiches and chips
2. Kabobs, pesto pasta salad, (cheese and fruit kabobs for kids)
3. Mexican Pasta shells, cowboy caviar
4. Pizza fondue, applesauce, salads
5. Hot dogs, Mac and cheese
6. Onion Horseradish Chicken, potatoes, green beans

Winter/Fall Menus (October-March)

Week 1
1. Homemade Pizza
2. Fall breakfast-pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, cinnamon toast
3. Peppers & Pasta
4. Philly Cheese steaks, fries
5. Tortellini, crusty bread

Week 2
1. Calzones
2. Spinach Pasta
3. Fried chicken, mac & cheese
4. Meatball subs, chips
5. Nachos

Week 3
1. Upside Down Deep Dish Pizza
2. Baked Spaghetti, Bruchetta
3. Tacos
4. Burgers, Black Bean Soup, chips
5. Red Beans and Rice

Week 4
1. Vegetarian Chili & pasta, cheese bread
2. Calzones
3. Grilled cheese, soup
4. BBQ chicken, apples, mashed potatoes
5. Tex Mex Pasta Skillet

Edited to link to Lovin It Friday party

I'm Lovin' This Weather

2010-03-19T12:55:00.000-07:00

The last day of winter....it is a BEAUTIFUL 68 degrees here in East Tennessee and spring is blooming every place I look.

Lovely flowers adorn my foyer, rising up to meet me when I come home.

Recent craft projects display happy spring colors.

Little bunnies are starting to pop up unexpectedly.

Yes, the signs of spring are here. And after a long, snowy winter, we are more than ready to welcome it home.

Before there was Twilight...

2010-03-11T05:42:00.001-08:00

There was The Lost Boys. And Corey Haim--the goofy little brother of Michael, who fights for to save the town from blood thirsty vampires. Aside from by boys in Duran Duran (DURANIE 4EVER), Corey was my first "serious" celebrity crush. I had the posters on my wall, the movies dubbed on VHS tapes, lines memorized, daydreams ensuing.

I was a slight bit obsessed with The Lost Boys. As a matter of a fact, I have always loved vampire literature and film, thanks in part to this very movie and the influence it had on my adolescence. But in the midst of that interest sat a mop of curly hair, a crooked smile and sparkly blue eyes. Corey Haim. We had matching moles. In one scene, he sets down a box and pushes up his sleeves. And there on the inside of his left arm, a mole in exactly the same spot as mine. Forget matching tattoos. This was a birth mark and when you are a preteen, that meant something was a foot in destiny.

But time passed, crushes faded. Posters came down. VHS tapes broke. Time is never kind.

Despite the recent images and problems which plagued his life, and that of many other celebrities of my childhood, whenever I see a picture of that little kid, I can't help but smile. Micheal Jackson's "Thriller" still puts me back in 3rd grade. Olivia Newton John's "Lets Get Physical" still makes me tap my foot. Mathew Broderick is always Ferris Buller to me and REM's "Stand" makes me remember high school. Images, moments, feelings, all pinpoints in time. Triggers for memories. A thousand little pieces that make up the whole of your past and help to form your future. Your interests, your hobbies, your creativity. Even some goofy little kid singing in the bathtub to his dog.

Motherhood...umph

2010-02-22T18:09:00.000-08:00

So, what have I been up to? Hold on to your seats....

An entire week of snow kept us locked into the house, no school, no outside play, very cabin fever style of living. Over the course of time, we had numerous melt downs, a loss of two bags full of toys, left over chocolate being secretly eaten, but the wrappers left sitting around, and a handful of hair being cut off for no particular reason.

And that was just The Girl.

Me? I was blessed with a cold, a bum wrist and a short temper. At one point I was running through my house naked and dripping wet, having rushed out of my shower to stop an argument. It was the stuff therapy is made of. Liquid gold for future psychoanalysts.

We had our high points. We made a fort out of sheets and pillows, we took naps, we drew pictures and played games. Over the weekend we made it out and went snow tubing. We did manage to have hugs, kisses and heard lots of "I love you," too.

And as soon as it began, the snow week was over. Back to school.

Oh! And today I officially realized that I am not smarter than a 5th grader. As a matter a fact, I am not smarter than a 3rd grader. The Boy brought home geometry math work that I have not seen in almost 20 years...I never learned difference between an isosceles vs right triangle back then and I still did not know it now. He giggled to me as I asked questions and told me how funny it was he was having to teach me now. He was also really proud of himself--FINALLY knowing something his Mom did not.

Thank goodness I teach preschool. Otherwise Iwould tell all parents to keep their kids far, far away from me.

Ways in which I will not win Mother of the Year any time soon...

2010-02-11T08:58:00.000-08:00

1. When school was cancelled for snow, I had a Valentine's cake that was now rendered useless since the party was going to be rescheduled. We ate it for breakfast. It was my Bill Cosby moment.

2. Falling asleep for 2 hours while my children are watching tv. I only woke up because The Boy walked in announcing he was "bored" from watching so much tv.

3. Letting The Girl wear her pjs until well after lunch almost any day we are home.

4. Allowing bedrooms to look like a grand war was staged in them....the toys exploded...the causalities were too high to count.

5. Encouraging cooperative play through video games...as long as they are playing nice and not crying, whining, hitting, spitting, or tantrum throwing, they can play for as long as they want.

6. Letting The Boy wear short sleeve on 20 degree days simply because he dressed himself and it managed to match. He can wear a jacket if we go out.

7. Finding out (after the fact) that my children have taken plastic coke bottles, play dough and PUSH PINS and made rather impressive space ships.

8. Applauding that decision by taking pictures and posting on my blog.

Snow bound projects

2010-02-01T10:11:00.000-08:00

I have been taking advantage of the snow days. There has been a LOT of sitting around, starring at tv. There has been dancing and singing. There has been minimal cooking, but yet, still lots of dirty dishes. I have been cleaning a bit too. Every single shelf and drawer in my kitchen has been cleaned out in a early wish-it-was-spring cleaning sweep.

Case in point: my spice/baking shelf. Check. It. Out.

Yeah, don't hate me.

It will only look like that for a few weeks anyway.

And here is my canned goods area, all purged of cans dating as far back as 2005.

What else....

There has been Internet surfing and online shopping.

(Lands End has a great outlet area on their website, by the way.)

There has been junk food eating and sleeping in.

There has also been snowman making and wet clothes drying.

But when all else fails, a good craft can pass the time. Here was an easy one I made.

I was inspired by a picture in the Pottery Barn catalog.

This isn't really the picture, but the closest one I could find on the website. See the bottle with the spoons? Love.

And it just so happens that in the back of my pantry was a old paper bag full of silver spoons and forks from my great grandmother. And they were just begging to come out and play.

I already had a couple of cool containers from the after Christmas Target sale. I just scuffed up the shiny lids a bit with sandpaper to make them look more rustic.

The chalkboard label is courtesy of the Dollar Store. (note: bad cursive writing is courtesy of my 4th grade teacher. ) These are wall stickers with a chalk board surface.

Simply cut into whatever size/shape you want and presto chango! (Pardon the mess on the table. My kids were water coloring at the same time.

They look right at home in my grandmother's hutch.

What have you been doing on snow days to pass the time?

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow

2010-01-30T06:24:00.000-08:00

Snow kinda gets on my nerves. I mean, sure it's pretty and all. I enjoy making snowmen, snow angels and snowballs like any other person. But it keeps me trapped in my house. It makes me cold--I mean really, really cold. It attaches to my children's shoes, making large, slippery, filthy puddles everywhere. Under any other circumstance something keeping me prisoner in my house and forcing me to clean over and over again while shivering from hypothermia setting in would be considered cruel and unusual punishment.

All I can think of is The Shining. Thank goodness my garage is a hot mess and I can't reach my ax.

I do have plans though. A couple of projects I hope to tackle this weekend.

I'll keep you updated.

Unless I am at the psychiatric hospital. I am pretty sure they don't have an Internet connection there.

My bad

2010-01-29T12:52:00.001-08:00

OK I have totally, completely, utterly, embarrassingly been avoiding, ignoring, forgetting, shunning this blog. Why? Well, life since July has been...strange.

I want to come back--if you will have me. I know that I am a pitiful excuse of a blogger...a sham, really. But I promise, if you give me another chance, I will do my best to pour my heart out again and again for your amusement. I solemnly swear to laugh at myself and encourage you to do so. To share my successes AND my failures.

Well, isn't that typical. In the middle of my heartfelt, gut wrenching begging I was interrupted by The Girl screaming. Apparently she had hurt her foot (for the second time today) by stepping on something she should not. No worries--shrugging it off--getting back to writing. Ok where was I?

Phone call. Yeah. I can't remember what I was going to say. I have lost the mojo. OK Oprah is now on. It is her last season. And her birthday episode... Distraction is evil. Now I am giving in...Oprah just got cute new puppies. Someone stop me.

I love you guys, please say you will have me back. Call me. Seriously. 'kay?

My wish

2009-07-21T11:21:00.000-07:00

With a thoughtful look, The Girls says to me, "When I grow up, I want to be a pig." When I asked her why she only said, "I like pigs!" Like I was ridiculous for even asking.

I did not have the heart to explain to her that is not how life works. That through a series of compromises and regrets we rarely end up in the job we set out to do. And that adults usually settle, content, but still not living the life they pictured as a child. I could not tell her that because I still want my kids to feel the magic. I want my kids to still believe that catching fireflies and freezing them can make good money. That one day they could grow up and fly a plane or walk on the ceiling or beat up the bad guys with laser guns. I want them to believe there is some magical tiny lady who actually wants to pay high dollar for their tiny baby teeth. I adore the fact they light up when they find a penny and imagine the outrageously priced toy they can now get with it. I don't want them to loose that childhood innocence just yet. If we can just hold on a little bit longer...because once it is gone, you can never quite get it back.

So, if my daughter wants to be a pig when she grows up, that is all right by me.

Heck, she can be the next Queen of Sheba if she wants.

Just so long as she always dares to dream and believe in the magic of childhood...

Breastfeeding is hard

2009-03-25T19:37:00.000-07:00

*Warning* This is not for the faint at heart.

Fine, don't say I didn't warn you.

Breastfeeding is hard. I know it seems like the most natural thing--what our bodies are made to do. You make milk, you stick a baby on there, how complicated can it be? Unless you have done it , you have no idea. It sucks! Your breasts--they have a mind of their own, ok? They swell up; they ache; they get rock hard (and I mean rock hard); they have veins popping out of them like they turned into the Incredible Hulk; they freaking L.E.A.K. when you least expect it, they can shoot milk across the room even though your sweet baby is sitting in your lap, mouth agape in front of you (and more than once, milk shot right into my baby's eyes). Did I mention your nipples stretch out like an inch or more thanks to the sucking action of the baby and/or your freakish breast pump. And lest us not forget, they itch like a word that rhymes with witch.

Breastfeeding is hard.

Even if your baby takes to feeding like a champ, it is hard. But those whose babies do not have a great latch (like my first) or prefer the bottle (like my second) have extra challenges.

Breastfeeding requires nerves of steel.

I have a friend who is working night and day to breastfeed her child as I type. I have another friend who breastfed her baby until he was 3. I have yet anther friend who thought nothing of wiping her nipply out anytime, any place, without shield to feed her baby. I was never that strong.

I did have my breast pump--a double pump to speed up the process. Boy, that was interesting. And a bit painful. And freaky to see since everything was in clear plastic. But nothing I could not live with knowing about myself.

Eventually, my babies weaned. My breast pads were tossed in the trash. My pump--sold on ebay to the highest bidder. It was just a memory. But today I had a run in with a woman who reminded me how hard breastfeeding can be.

I ate Mexican for lunch. A refried bean taco salad to be exact. And by the time I was at preschool to pick up The Girl, it hit me. I took off for the potty like nobody's business. Now, our preschool has a really nice potty. It is big, it is clean and it has--get this--a couch! Right there in the bathroom! No kidding. It also has a really nice, curtained off area for nursing moms--complete with rocking chairs. That bathroom is nicer than the break room at most companies. It is set up for quiet, peaceful, reflection. And here I came.

So, I burst in and run to the potty and realize that there is a woman who has set up her breast pump and is ready to pump. But I cannot wait--I have to go. So, I do what any human being would do and I go. From my stall I can hear the pump turning on. My mind takes me back to those days. The pump is not comfortable, but is a tool. When it is on, it literally pulls your nipple and sucks out the milk out of your body. And it feels about like it sounds. The storage bags even come with a slot to hold your baby's picture so that you can "let down" your milk easier without your baby with you. I never had to use it. I always pumped at home. But here is this Mom--no baby--at work, pumping. And here I am, in the stall close by, making horrible noises and smells. (Remember, not for the faint at heart here.) I tried to hold it in people. I really did. I even thought about apologizing from the stall, but could not figure out how to say that and make us both not feel more uncomfortable than we already did. I knew she was trying to relax and get into that zone--the milk zone. And me and my poop had interfered. The farts did not help. *sigh*

Needless to say, I cleaned up asap and left as fast as I had entered, all the while silently apologizing for the scent stamp I had left behind.

Like I said, breastfeeding is hard--really hard. You have to do all sort of things you never in your life imagined you would do, like have a machine clamped to you left breast in a public restroom while strangers were relieving themselves. But you do it. Cause that is what being a parent is all about.

A wee wish for you....

2009-03-17T07:35:00.000-07:00

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

We are celebrating by, of course, wearing green (I hate getting pinched--don't you?) The in laws went to Ireland last year and brought back Irish t-shirts, so the kids are getting to wear them today. I am desperately trying to figure out how much of their food I can die green. The preschool I used to work at always had green milk all day on St. Patty's which was super fun, but a bit gross. I am phobic about drinking bad milk. If I ever did drink bad milk, I am not sure I could ever fully recover. But the centerpiece of our festivities is the leprechaun trap. Yes, we are going to try and catch ourselves a little elfin magic!

As I type, The Girl is painting a shoe box green--the preferred color of the leprechaun.

Here she is beating the beejeebus of out the brush.

Once the paint dries, we will decorate it with these green flower stickers. We even made fool's gold. A little enticement for the wee sprite made from contact paper and gold glitter. He won't know until it is too late!

When school lets out, we will have The Boy join in by going on a clover hunt. We will stuff all of these goodies into the little leprechaun "house" which will be propped up by a stick. Then lights out. When the little man shows and goes all Stingy from Lazy Town up in here, he will bump into the stick, thus, trapping him in our secret trap. At least that is the theory. We will see how it pans out tonight. Until then.....

May God give you...

For every storm, a rainbow,

For every tear, a smile,

For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.

For every problem life sends,

A faithful friend to share,

For every sigh, a sweet song,

And an answer for each prayer.

We interrupt this program

2009-03-11T15:41:00.000-07:00

To bring you funny animal pictures I have recently taken.

The Hiding Cow. AKA Incownitio

Does this make me look fat? Cause I feel like it makes me look fat.

One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just does not belong.

Oh, Hi.

You may now return to your regularly scheduled program. This has been a RHSC presentation.

Beauty is in the Details

2009-03-06T13:09:00.000-08:00

I have decided to participate in the Beautiful Life by The Inspired Room. She has been talking about finding beauty in the details and when I was thinking about what I would post, I immediately realized, I had the perfect example. Let me explain.

This is my house.

I don't have a large house in a really fancy suburb. It is a 1974 split level cookie cutter house that we are slowly modernizing. But still, it is nothing about it that is going to command your attention and make you say "Look at that house!" My yard is full of crab grass and mud. My driveway is cracked. My roof is missing shingles. I forgot to put out mulch last year and I have weeds in my garden. But I promise you, the house is full of details.

I love the way the sun hits it in the afternoon.

I love that my kids can ride their bikes on the road.

I love the trees that surround the house--old and rugged.

I love the flowers that we plant in the spring and bloom all summer long.

And the way the snow decorates my garden in the winter.

Even if the windows are old and in need of a wash, they are lovely when I see the people that live in my house.

And that is how I try to live a beautiful life.

'ho and Tell

2009-03-02T06:17:00.000-08:00

This is what The Girl calls show and tell. Funny, I know...

We have been a whole bunch of sick around here for about a week. So, not much to report. Last time I was sickly, I took a 7 month sabbatical from blogging. I promise not to do that this time. :) I think...

Do you have a song

2009-02-24T07:58:00.000-08:00

That make you happy every single time you hear it?

For some reason, this song does that for me. And I do not even particularly like country music.

I have been abusing my living room curtains

2009-02-20T05:43:00.000-08:00

Or rather "mistreating" them. While we are in a Nester frame of mind, I wanted to share my big, scary project of the week! The Nester first got my attention when the bargain board I was reading at the time was raving about her concept of mistreating curtains to save money. The basic idea is that you can make a fancy window treatment that looks like a million bucks without hemming and hawing over it. She uses a hot glue gun, trim, tacks and high heels to McGyver herself some really nice designs. I may not have the high heels, but I did manage to make this!

OK, so picture if you will green tab top curtains that have hung on my living room for about 4 years. When they first came out, I loved the look of tab top curtains, but they were starting to grow old on me. The green was perfect in our living room, but with our gigantic picture window I could not stomach paying over 100 bucks for new curtains. My solution? Turn the curtains upside down, cut about 2 feet off the top to get rid of the tabs and hot glue on some adorable plaid fabric I got for 30% off at Hobby Lobby. Then, cover up the rough edges with trim. See?

Unfortunately, my original cut was too much and the curtains were hanging shorter than the sheers. BOO. Since the whole idea was to not spend much money on these, I used a store credit at Target (from returning an ear thermometer after three attempts--whole other story) to buy some curtain rings thingy majigs. I just clipped those onto the top and hung it all on my existing rod and voila!

Instead of over a hundred bucks I spent about $40 and that was only cause I bought really nice fabric for the bottom. I wanted to splurge a little. *wink*

10 Minutes to a Room You Love

2009-02-18T19:49:00.000-08:00

OK, so, yay! This is my first time participating in a linky party and I feel so…official!

So, one of my mostest favoritist blogs (yes, I make up my own words around here)—The Nesting Place—is hosting the 10 Minutes to a Room you Love Party today.

Our assignment was to show off simple techniques we used to spruce up a room in our house. On my tour of Chez Desperate, I wanted to show off my kitchen--the heart of my home…the place where I nourish my family...the place where friends gather.

Oh who am I kidding?

My kitchen is a pain in my tushy.

It is constantly messy, never warm and inviting, always full of junk food.

But what it is, with all certainty, is organized. I may not be able to put on my housewife apron and whip up a delicious pie on a whim, but I can locate the recipe, find the ingredients with ease and then ask someone else to cook it.

So, here is my quick list of organizing tips and tricks of the trade!

Keep it close.

Make your kitchen an actual work area. Cooking is work, people. You must keep your tools at hand. Anything you use on a weekly basis deserves to be at your helm. Here you can see everything I need is within easy reach and is all centered around my stove. So, on the left side I have flour, cooking oils, salt, pepper, spices, cutting board, and rolling pin. To the right (since I am right handed) I have my spoons, spatulas and other items I would need to grab as I am cooking on the stove top.

Get it up.

Magnetic strips are my friend. I use them to hold my spices. I also use them to hold my knives. And I even have an extra strip up for holding notes, recipe cards, etc.

Have it separated.

Here is my baking/cooking cabinet. On the lower shelf I keep anything related to cooking—spices, salts, measuring cups, etc. The shelf above includes all baking items—sugars, powers, soda, flavorings, etc, which are stored in nice see through containers.

Get it together.

This is my recipe book. Not only does it include my recipes in regular rotation, but it also holds recipes I want to try. You see the calendar? I plan my menus in two week sets. I have winter menus and summer menus—4 weeks worth of meals that I can just drop right onto the monthly calendar.

Have it central.

This is my family calendar. It is in a central location in our kitchen—a place both my husband and I can see. I keep the markers in little baskets hanging to the side. The hanging system was a steal on ebay, but it is originally from Ikea. I also used another magnet strip to put up a wipe off board for extra notes throughout the month.

Recycle it.

No one says your recycle bin has to look like it came right out of Whole Foods. This is just a simple $10.00 trash can from Wally World. To make it look all official, I printed out a recycle sign (thanks to Publisher) and taped it on with some packing tape. My kids know exactly where to stick things when I say put it in recycling. When it gets full, I make a trip to the backyard where the bigger bins are. And when those get full I actually make a trip to the recycling center.

Editor's note: Please excuse the tidiness. I promise my house is not like this all the time—I just had the time to clean up a bit. My apologies for the lack of keepin' it real!

Black is slimming

2009-02-17T11:58:00.001-08:00

I think I should drive a black minivan so I look thinner as I am riding around town.

Smooth Operator

2009-02-09T13:06:00.000-08:00

Me: How was your day?

The Boy: Good. I only have one page of homework and I made a Mario card. And Hailey finally did something I have always needed her to do.

Me: What is that?

The Boy: She asked me if I wanted to be her Valentine and I pretended to not be myself and be Venom.

Me: Venom? What did she think of that?

The Boy: She didn’t say anything. I was nervous and sometimes people just get nervous and that is ok. She put a valentine inside my folder.

Me (reading valentine): Roses red, Violets Blue, I love you xoxoxo

The Boy: What?

Me: It says I love you.

The Boy: I’m in second grade! I’m not even supposed to have a girlfriend until 3rd grade!

That’s my boy!

Day Trippin'

2009-02-08T17:47:00.000-08:00

So, after being couped up with snow and single digit temperatures for a week plus, we had to escape. It has been outstanding weather the past couple of days and we had to take advantage. Our family tends to be semi adventurous so at high noon on Sunday afternoon, we took off down the interstate.

Not so far down the road we got this:

See the idiot light?

After a quick refuel and a check on my Facebook status, we were off again.

We knew we were heading to Knoxville for a few hours and being the fan of Food Network that we are (Hi, Guy Fieri, if you are reading this!) we knew of a joint that had been featured on Diners, Drive Ins and Dives a while back called the Pizza Palace. Techno Geek used his handy dandy iphone to secure the directions and with no trouble at all, we found it.

The Pizza Palace is a drive in Italian restaurant. You have pizza, spaghetti, sandwiches, etc all delivered to your car by car hops. Apparently these car hops must all be chain smokers and go on smoke breaks every 5 minutes or so, but that is another story.

To pass the time, The Boy played on his very precious DS....

And The Girl enjoyed climbing out the sun roof. That's good stuff right there.

And before you know it our food arrived. There it is...a hot pizza perching precariously on my lap. (For the record Techno Geek laughed at me for taking these pictures, so, I had to explain to him I was doing a blog entry on our trip. To which he laughed more. )

Next, we headed towards downtown looking for this:

And as we circled the block to find a place to park we found this instead:

Knoxville Museum of Art

With a sign outside that said "Free Admission Day"

Excuse me, did they say FREE?

Yes, they did!

Notice the hands in the pockets--he was nervous about knocking something over!

I call it "Little Girl in Big Room"

This one was called "Ladies" and it was listing all of the names this man had "dated." The Boy was staring at it a little too long for my taste.

The Museum also had this sweet little corner, tucked away in the back, that held an interactive exhibit for children. The kids could draw their own art and play with a giant Lite Brite.

And later on, we ventured downstairs were they had some hella-cool kids artwork....

and a sculpture garden.

Overall, our little day trip hit the spot and gave us a much needed break from the house. We find that sometimes the best trips are the ones right in our own backyard!

A sample of our week

2009-02-07T18:20:00.001-08:00

We needed lots of this....

For this fella here....

All week we had this...

And no school to match...

It worked out ok though... Note the weather forecast on tv.

After a looong week, we had basketball.

And a Winter Festival to attend (ironic that it was warm enough to wear shorts)

Yes, this week we had lots of sneakiness...

And a fair dose of mischief

But a whole bunch of sweet.

Oh, Happy Craft Day!

2009-01-28T15:13:00.000-08:00

So, this morning The Boy had to have two of his baby teeth removed in order to make room for the gigantic adult teeth trying to push their way in. Since the roots were in no way prepared to come out, he got a sedation medication, a dose of laughing gas and 2 shots of Novocaine. All went off well and he spent the afternoon mending at home. Since The Girl was in school today, I had the luxury of spending the afternoon catching up on some of my crafts. I like to make signs. I talked about one of them here. And these are the ones I made today!

I LOVE this sweet little bathroom sign. I can't decide if I am keeping it or selling it.

This sign is for a new crafting center I am putting together for the kids.

This sign is going in the kitchen basket I am making a basket auction at The Boy's school.

I made this star a while ago, but finally got around to sealing it up. It is going up for sale!

And as a little extra because I have not shared it before, here is the sign I made for our dining room a while ago.

I just love crafty days!!!

10 Little Songs

2009-01-24T19:59:00.001-08:00

Music right from my iPod that I currently love to listen to and would recommend to my friends:

"Chasing Pavements" by Adele

"American Boy" by Estelle and featuring Kanye West

"Cocoon" by Jack Johnson

"It Had Better Be Tonight" by Michael Buble

"Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" by Billy Joel

"Its My Life" by No Doubt

"Up to the Roof" by Blue Man Group featuring Tracey Bonham

"Shoot the Moon" by Norah Jones

"That's Not My Name" by The Ting Tings

"When in Rome" by Nickel Creek

Mommy Guilt

2009-01-22T05:56:00.000-08:00

Anymore, I get Mommy Guilt on a regular basis. This morning I am making the Boy's lunch and in a rush, I did not cut his cheese sandwich in half. I just ripped it. Not only was I in a hurry, but I also am thinking that it would be good to not dirty another knife. Brilliant, right? And as I am packing this ripped mismatched sandwich, I picture the lunchroom table. All the other kids with their perfectly symmetrical sandwich halves watching my Boy take his scraggly, hobo looking bread out of the baggie and saying, "Dude, doesn't your mom love you enough to take out a knife and cut your bread?" Mommy guilt strikes again.

I always feel like I am not spending enough time with my kids. I beat myself up daily on the state of the house, the lack of creativity on our dinners, the fact my kids watch more than the 2 hours of tv per day (spitting in the face of the Academy of Pediatrics) and that they do not brush their teeth twice a day. They do, however, brush once a day.

I don't know why I have such little faith in myself as a mother and wife, but I do know that most mothers feel the same way. Perhaps it is the responsibility for these two lives that at times seems so overwhelming you can barely breathe. Or is it because you have such a deep, unquestionable love for these souls that you just don't want to screw it up.

I partially blame Oprah. I grew up watching her show...blaming parents for the faults of their adult children. I have to admit, one of my fears is getting that phone call in 20 years.

Snot nosed producer: Yes, your son and daughter claim that your lack of proper parenting has effected their ability to lead productive lives. We would like you to come on the show to talk about it openly.

Me: What?

Snot nosed producer: Well, your children are coming on to talk about what a horrible mother you were and how they cannot function in normal society as a result. We can pay for your hotel if you come. The hotel has a free breakfast and we will be happy to pick you up in our company limo!

Me: What?

Snot nosed producer: I'm sorry, ma'am, but I do need a decision. Do you want to defend yourself on Oprah or not?

Me: Does this have to do with the fact I did not cut their sandwiches with a knife?

*click* *dial tone*

Sweet Land of Liberty

2009-01-20T13:20:00.000-08:00

"What do I think of my country? What is there, which elevates my shoulders and stirs my blood when I hear the words, the United States of America: Do I praise my country enough? Do I laud my fellow citizens enough? What is there about my country that makes me hang my head and avert my eyes when I hear the words, the United States of America, and what am I doing about it? Am I relating my disappointment to my leaders and to my fellow citizens, or am I like someone not involved, sitting high and looking low? As Americans, we should not be afraid to respond." --Maya Angelou

My country tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing.

Land where my fathers died!

Land of the Pilgrim's pride!

From every mountain side,

Let freedom ring!

My native country, thee,

Land of the noble free,

Thy name I love.

I love thy rocks and rills,

Thy woods and templed hills;

My heart with rapture fills

Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,

And ring from all the trees

Sweet freedom's song.

Let mortal tongues awake;

Let all that breathe partake;

Let rocks their silence break,

The sound prolong.

Our father's God to, Thee,

Author of liberty,

To Thee we sing.

Long may our land be bright

With freedom's holy light;

Protect us by Thy might,

Great God, our King!

Aw Come on! --Gob Bluth

2009-01-13T18:57:00.001-08:00

Listen people, no one likes it when you are talking on your cell phone in a restaurant and decide that you need to yell into the phone because the restaurant is too loud for you to be heard. And it is definitely uncool for your phone to ring during church. Don't even get me started on texting someone when the person right in front of you is trying to talk to you. And by the way, if you refuse to put your call on hold to deal with the sales clerk, it does not make you look cool. It makes you look obnoxious.

But you know what really fries my cheese? Talking on your cell in the public restroom. Aw, come on! It is hard enough to relax on a toilet that is not your own. Especially when those stalls provide little to no privacy with their cracks and crevices. (Who amongst us has not experienced a random child staring into the crack as you are wiping? I just wave. But I digress.) Now you have to listen to who just lost their job and who slept with whose brother best friend and so on and so on all while trying to relax and let nature take its course.

I had a similar such incident yesterday at a local Chinese buffet. After enjoying a hearty meal of Vegetable Lo Mein, I made a stop by the restroom. When I first went in, it seemed like I was alone. The handicap stall was standing open, but I went into the little stall instead. Good thing I did. A few steps into the stall and I hear "Mmmmm" followed by another "Mmmmm"

"What are they doing in there?" I thought to myself. "And why was the door left open for it?" I had not seen this woman at all when I entered—she had been hiding behind the stall door, leaning against the wall. I had to peek under to see if her feet were there—and they were—but I half expected them to be up, perched like a scene from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. It was like the chick was in ninja talking on a cell phone mode.

Then all of the sudden a wave of Chinese words came out…I have no idea at all what this woman was saying, but it was pretty intense. Apparently she had done whatever she came to do in the potty, but was so entranced in her conversation, she could not leave the bathroom to finish her conversation. Perhaps they had good sound in there.

To make matters worse, I felt like I was being judged. Every time I made a move she would say “Ohhhhhh” on the phone, followed by something Chinese. I was convinced it had something to do with the fat Caucasian woman sitting in the stall next to her, but I never heard her say my name. Ninjas are very stealthy that way.

Then I find myself having guilt. What is something happens and I pass gas in here while she is on the phone and her friend thinks it was her? “No, I swear it was this fat Caucasian lady in the stall next to me!”

Am I allowed to flush when she is still talking? Is that rude? I just don’t know.

So I am sitting there stuck. Unable to do my business. Unable to unroll the toilet paper. Unable to flush. And I am thinking about my great ninja like escape when suddenly, out of no where, she turns to leave the room—finally continuing her conversation outside of the bathroom. Guess t had nothing to do with the sound after all. Maybe she was freaked out by the fat Caucasian lady staring out at her from the crack of the bathroom stall…

Facebook=Pure evil?

2009-01-10T19:44:00.000-08:00

Wow--it has been quite some time since I have written in my own blog, I have religiously followed other people's blogs. I have thought about things I should log and then not done so-- obviously. But yesterday I found something new and potentially life sucking--Facebook. What the crap is this thing? Why is it sucking up hours of my time? As I was working on it I started to feel guilty. Guilty that I have not updated this blog in so many months. And here I find myself posting. So, not only does Facebook take up all my free time, it makes me have guilt and spend even more time trying to correct it. I think it may be Satan.

I feel pretty...oh, so pretty

2008-07-08T10:27:00.000-07:00

The Girl has given me a pedicure during my recuperation. I apologize for the picture quality, but I did get off my death couch to post this for you....

I've been sick

2008-07-08T10:23:00.000-07:00

I got sick shortly after my last post and have been sick ever since. I am still sick--inner ear infection caused by a mycoplasm bug that I cannot shake. This thing has had me sick off and on for almost a year. I am sick of being sick.

Resolution Check!

2008-06-30T08:44:00.000-07:00

It was a 7 months ago that 2008 came charging in and in my usual fashion, I fancied myself up some resolutions. Time to make myself accountable and check in on my progress. As I plagiarize myself, here they are:

#1. I resolve to go green. Not jealous....not Incredible Hulk....not Jolly Green Giant....and not rich. I want to learn more about toxin free living and try to adopt it into my lifestyle as much as possible. I am proud to say, I have made several steps for improvement in this area. I am now recycling. I am appalled by the amount of trash it saves me....probably 2-3 bags per week of recyclable goods were just going straight to the dump. I also tested out various kinds of dishwashing and laundry detergents. Laundry has been ok so far, but as far as dishwashing goes--after testing 4 different kinds of very expensive, very environmentally friendly detergents, I have decided plain ole Cascade is the only thing that really stands up to my dishes. Now, it is not on the earth friendly list, but washing the same load 3 times is not good for the water supply. SO it is the lesser of two evils. Resolution complete? check! but still a work in progress.

#2. I resolve to learn more about advocacy and Special Ed rights. The boy has been speech delayed and sensory seeking since he was one. Now that he is in First Grade the word Asperger's is floating about. We are still waiting for an official diagnosis from a developmental pediatrician. But in the meantime, I want to advocate for my son in the face of a unsympathetic (indeed PATHETIC) school and staff. I have read a few additional books....bookmarked a few additional sights....and gone to a few extra doctors. We are really not too better off than before.

# 3 I resolve to go on two family vacations. I also made this promise last year and went on three. *wink* Well, you know I have Wandering Wednesdays--which is a mini vacation each week. In addition, we went to Chattanooga in the spring and will go to Disney World in August. Resolution complete? check!

# 4. I resolve to grow a herb garden. Check! It is out there, but I have no idea how to dry them for future use...still working on that one.

# 5. I resolve to go to an allergist sometime this year and start immunotherapy shots again. No......not even started....

#6. I resolve to pursue our own avenues for therapy and related services. Check! We have a private OT now.

4 out of 6 is not bad at all! Much better than my previous track records. Have you kept your resolutions this year?

Little Known Facts About Me--2nd of a miniseries

2008-06-27T13:37:00.000-07:00

I cry...
.............A lot.

Everything from small, insignificant drops to huge ugly, face sobs. Anything can make me cry....a bad day, a good day, a tv commercial, a movie, my kids, my anger, my happiness. I once cried cause I saw a duck with a missing foot. I once cried at the song "Rocky Top." Ok, I was pregnant and overly emotional, but still. It does not take much to make me cry. And it feels good too. Especially those gut wrenching, from the soul wails. And those I know well. The kind that your knees buckle, your eyes clamp shut, your voice no longer sounds human. While I am usually in that mode in my deepest, darkest moments, to have that raw emotion come out of me is terribly cathartic.

Wandering Wednesdays

2008-06-26T13:17:00.000-07:00

This week we focused on excrement, waste, ca ca. Ewwwwwwww, right? Yeah pretty much, but very educational! Our little neck of the woods is well known amongst paleontologists. We are home to the Gray Fossil Site. They have found all sorts of interesting fossils and complete dinosaur skeletons. (Read more about the Gray Fossil site here.)

Last time we ventured to the museum, T-Rex Sue was there. She is the most complete T-Rex skeleton every found and our museum borrowed her from Chicago. Sue packed up and headed north in April and left in her midst was another traveling exhibit which hey lovingly call "The Scoop on Poop." Poop, you say? For weeks, I heard a squeal every time we drove past and children asking when we could go see the bones and the poop.

Now, poop is more valuable than you may know! They can use it to trace the nomadic journey of early man to the continent. They can study it to find out how a animal eats, how old it is, where it lives, and many more characteristics. In some cultures, they build houses with poop, they eat poop and they sell poop. Yes, ca ca is a commodity.

The Dung Beetle Rally!

This demonstrated the size of Elephant poop.....They look a little scared....

Oh, that's just me--getting the "Scoop on Poop"

One of the fossils they have unearthed at the dig site.

They boy getting his scientist on....

The Girl bound and determined to find a fossil...

Little Known Facts About Me--A mini series

2008-06-23T09:44:00.000-07:00

I love interior design. So much so that at one point in my life, I was interviewed and accepted into the design program at ETSU. However, it was a odd time in my life--I had just finished my BA in English and was trying to decide if I wanted to pursue Interior Decorating or go for a Master's in Education. My safe side won out and I opted to go for the Master's degree. However, I have never given up on my passion for design and want to share with you, dear reader, a few of my favorites sites for inspiration!

The Nesting Place I was turned onto her blog via the BabyCenter Bargain Hunters Board. She has a grace and style about her that I admire and when I cruise into a craft section, finding treasures, I ask myself, "How would the Nester use this?"

Craftster My favorite part about decorating is creating. Sure, I love to buy things right off the shelves, but I also love to have one of a kind designs that I know no one can duplicate. This site gives me plenty of ideas.

Pottery Barn I cannot afford Pottery Barn. But I do love to look at the catalog. Let me rephrase that--I study the catalog. I love the color and texture combinations. I love that they mix old with new. I love that anything goes. And for that reason, I strive for the Pottery Barn look, without the Pottery Barn price.

HGTV Not only do I love the site, I love the channel. Some of my favorite shows are on this channel. I love watching the work of other designers, learning their tricks and methods. You get a great sense of what is in style from this channel and can also learn how to do it yourself.

Bargain Hunters This is a bulletin board I have followed for years. Now, it is not all about decorating, but about bargains. And sense do it yourself projects are a bargain (most of the time) the ladies post a lot about cheap ways to do home decor.

Better Homes and Gardens BHG is my favorite magazine and I so look forward to that day each month when it comes in the mail. I could just eat up every page!

Someone loved the 80's a little too much....

2008-06-23T09:33:00.001-07:00

It was a groggy Sunday morning...I shuffled my way to the kitchen and made myself a bowl of cereal. As I started my first bite, I did my morning ritual--looking out the kitchen window to see what Man Boobs was up to today.

He was out and about unusually early--shirt off, hat on. He had a friend with him and they were working on a new project. Painting their house. Pink. Yes, just like the John Cougar Mellencamp song. *hangs head in shame*

I do have an update on the Battle of the Small Corner. It will cost us $689.00 to move the fence line. I am still calling around!

Wandering Wednesdays

2008-06-20T08:05:00.000-07:00

And before you say anything, yes, I know it is Friday. The point of Wandering Wednesdays is to take the kids out and have a computer free day...and then yesterday, my computer was having a person free day (ISP issues). So Wandering Wednesdays actually started for us about a month ago. I just decided this week to add this to the RHSC because in a few months from now I want be able to look back on the great summer we had. Why Wednesdays, you ask? Well, that is the only day I have off during the week. I work from home for a large distance education based company. After sitting in the house all week with children running wild about me, I think it is vital to have one day where we get out and just have fun. We started out slow--the first Wednesday we went shopping around town, had a oil change in the car and lunch out. The second Wednesday we really ramped it up, going to a local amusement park--Dollywood.

The third Wednesday we took it a bit easier and went to a really cool park in the area called a Boundless Playground. It is specifically made for kids with sensory issues, but is fantastic for any kid. Of course, The Boy revels in the spinning, sliding and climbing, as any self respecting child should! We ventured off into the woods for a bit--following a Frisbee golf course that the kids imagined was a old dinosaur trail. We even found scat (dog poop) that The Boy was convinced meant a cougar was near by. On the way back, we kicked around in a small creek and then headed off for lunch with Techo Geek.

That brings us to this week--our fourth Wednesday. This week has been absolutely wild. Not only are we in the middle of tball tournaments--which seem to be abnormally cut throat this year--we were also working on renovating our basement family room, starting Taekwando classes, working on summer lessons and projects, trying to organize a fence move (see Man Boobs below), figuring out bills, and still to come this weekend--a company picnic, family reunion, remaining Father's Day dinner for my Dad, all while working my weekend rotation. Somehow in the middle of all this, I had to figure out what we would spend our free day doing. I knew of two things that could not wait. In the midst of figuring out who I had to pay what, I realized I had let my car tags expire and had not paid my car insurance. I had no choice but to head downtown. I could have spent the rest of our day catching up on cleaning which is pitifully behind, painting trim for all the new flooring, or running any other number of errands. But we yearned for a Wondering Wednesday. SO a Wondering Wednesday we got.

It just so happens that our downtown area is a Historic District. Jonesborough claims to be the oldest city in the state of Tennessee. Of course, no one knows for certain which is why there is a ancient fight between the folks of Jonesborough and the folks of Rogersville for rights to the first city in the state. But I digress.

The Boy and The Girl tagged along as we went to the old, old courthouse. They loved the stockades outside...

and the cannon...

Our wanderings found us in a store full of handmade imports. Items from Peru, Argentina, and the Amazon line the walls. Here is a hand carved chair that the kids found hilarious.

We found our way to the antique store, too. The Boy found arrowheads, a passion first discovered on an earlier trip to Dollywood. We had a lot of fun finding old objects and guessing how they were used.

Sometimes the small details are the best...

A couple of shops down is The Lollipop Shop. This building has a really freaky history for such a happy candy store. It was the original courthouse in town and had a riot in the 1800's that resulted in the death of 7 inmates. Later it housed the first brothel in the state and the owner said upon her death she wanted to be buried at the front steps. If you looked down as you are exiting, you see her name on the doorstep. They say that is her tombstone. ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww When you look on the side of the buildings, you can see scratch marks up the wall caused by the stagecoach wheels.

The Boy and the Girl sitting next to "May," unbeknown to them. *wink*

Next we had lunch at a downtown eatery named Main Street Cafe. They had really good Dr. Pepper and a decent lunch. The Boy appreciated having a never ending supply of straws on the table.

The Girl enjoying her Dr. Pepper...

We ended this Wandering Wednesday with another trip to a park for about an hour and then off to OT. Having a mini-vacation mid week is so worth it!

They are everywhere!

2008-06-06T11:22:00.000-07:00

I know you have heard my sagas of Cousin Eddie and his lampoonish lifestyle. However, I have more than one less than desirable neighbor.

Meet Man Boobs. Man Boobs lives behind us. He has Rude Wife and 3 Brat kids. Man Boobs likes to shoot birds in his backyard. He also likes to drive as fast as he can down the road trying to showing off for those who could care less. Man Boobs likes to show off his Man Boobs on a almost daily basis and the really sucky part about that? He has a pool. Man Boobs bought a used above ground pool a couple of years ago. He loved bringing in the caterpillar to dig the hole in the yard. As he ran back and forth leveling out his ground, he bumped into his sad little wood fence on more than one occasion, making it fall to the ground in a few spots. But never fear! Man Boobs (who co-owns a fencing company) had a professional plan a foot! It would seem that he has a spare pair of closet doors that fit that wide gap just perfectly. That worked for a while, but who would have thought that hollow core doors would not hold up to two years of Tennessee rain, snow and heat?

Techno Geek and myself were a bit put out with their dog helping himself into our yard via the outside closet Man Boobs had created, so we put up chain link for the perimeter of the yard. Finally! A defining boundary. Life was good--despite Cousin Eddie on the other side. But then, Man Boobs decided he needed to build a new fence--a fort if you will. And large privacy fence and by all that was holy in the south, he needed us to move our newly constructed chain link fence so that he could build this mother of all fences. Now, I am all for Man Boobs hiding his man boobs. And I love not watching Rude kids day in and day out. But he is making issue over about half a foot on one corner of the fence line. No biggie--they can have it. We are not into stealing their land.

So I am calling fencing companies-not his--trying to find someone to move it. No return calls. And while I am in holding pattern, guess what I see? His fence guys messing with our fence! Anybody ever heard of patience?

Cousin Eddie is all up in arms. Turns out he likes us and doesn't want Man Boobs to win the Battle of the Overgrown Corner. Our neighbor on the other side--the one nice, decent person we have surrounding us--feels like it is "just not right." My father in law wants us to get a lawyer.

Who knew such a small patch of land could cause such a ruckus? I can't even stand on it.

It is all about the lines--and I guess boundaries are just as important to Man Boobs as they are to us. I just wish the fence company would call me back!

Fly on the Wall

2008-06-06T11:18:00.000-07:00

The fly on the wall heard this today:

The Boy: Get out of my room!

The Girl: NNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The Boy: I am the big brother and big brothers tell little sisters what to do!

The Girl: No, I am Iron Man.

The Boy: And Mom tells me what to do.

Me: Oh really?

The Girl: I AM IRON MAN!

The Boy: And Dad tells Mom what to do.

Me: Oh REALLY?

Silent Saturday

2008-05-31T19:23:00.000-07:00

more cat pictures

more cat pictures

more cat pictures

more cat pictures

Dear ABC,

2008-05-30T10:13:00.000-07:00

DANG! You all are KILLING ME! So last night was the season finale of Lost. Just a couple of months ago I was anxiously awaiting the 9 month hiatus to come to an end so that I could see what was going on and who the heck was in that coffin. Now I know. And I also know, as Jack said, "Some really bad stuff happened." And Penny and Des are reunited....and Sawyer loves Kate so very much he jumped out of that helicopter to get her off that island....and Jin was running and begging to be picked up and wasn't....and I actually felt sorry for Ben (never saw that coming)...and why the heck was Charlotte born on the island? I don't know if you actually answered any questions because the new mysteries are far more complex and out there than ever before. And now another hiatus. You are killing me--you are really killing me!

Signed,

Desperate

Just Wow

2008-05-28T18:31:00.000-07:00

I really have no comments about this that would not get you in touch with my redneck roots, so I will let the action speak for itself.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,358956,00.html

On the positive side, I am one week removed from our own Ms. Drama as of today....nothing like summer vacation!

Desperate Does Duran Duran

2008-05-21T12:22:00.000-07:00

hmmmm...that did not come out quite as planned, but I will take it! I wore the "This Mom Rocks" shirt that you see on the lower right of the page. I got more comments on that shirt than any other clothing I have ever worn--and they were all positive!

The Girl is showing off her seat and all ready to hear Masser!

Ok she is over that and onto her lollipop.

The Boy--watching and learning how to be a SUPASTAR!

So, tonight is the final results on American Idol. I think David Archuletta is going to win, even though David Cook is the better musician. It has been a better year than most years past, but still, nothing like that first year!

Guilty Pleasures

2008-05-09T16:31:00.000-07:00

Owning a blog.....
Reading online news headlines more than twice a day
American Idol
Going to Disney World for the past two years and going again this year
Watching TV in bed before going to sleep
Ice cream with Hershey's syrup
Justin Timberlake music....ok, Timbaland music, too
Reading the LOST blogs for spoilers daily
Duran Duran concerts
Driving 4 hours for IKEA
Taking long showers until the hot water runs out
Loosing hours on the internet without realizing it
Emailing instead of calling
Eating out at least once a week
Covering my strawberries with sugar
Covering my fries with ketchup
Covering my vegetables with salt

Indiana Jones and The Temple of Duh

2008-05-09T16:28:00.000-07:00

The Boy: I really want to be Indiana Jones.

Me: You don't even know what those movies are about!

The Boy: Yes, I do! In the second movie he breaks into the temple to replace the crystal skull. And he gets caught.

Me: How do you know about that?

The Boy: Uh--Lego's commercial! (With the tone of DUH in his voice)

Me: Oh

Coincidence? Hmmmmmmm

2008-05-06T11:33:00.000-07:00

Dear Annie Leibovitz,

2008-05-01T05:10:00.000-07:00

I have always loved your photography. I think you are immensely talented.

Even if you do look a bit odd.

However, not anyone is perfect, right?

But why, oh why, did you remotely think THIS was a good idea?

You take someone whose entire career is built on child entertainment, chastity and clean fun and make her look like an ill, worn out ho? I find nothing beautiful in this picture and I am not even upset she is topless. I am mostly upset that she looks like she is malnourished and deathly ill! Granted, 12 year olds will not be reading Vanity Fair, but once a picture is out there, it is out. Girls have always struggled with self identity and the idea that you have to look a certain way and have a certain image to fit in. Now this. Now it will be cool to look like a zombie--a half naked zombie no less. Did you think it was a cool artistic shot, like Miley said? Did you think it would show her vulnerability and exposure to the world. How very metaphoric of you. I know, historically, you like them nude. John Lennon, Angelina Jolie, Demi Moore, Scarlett Johansen, Keira Knightly, all have gone bare ass for you. Heck, you even took a full nude portrait of yourself pregnant for the world to see. But a 15 year old--just a bad idea no matter what angle you look at it. The girls of this world have more pressure than ever and enough to deal with already. Sorry, Annie, but this time--poor concept, poor picture, poor job!

Signed,

Desperately Seeking Sanity

Trivial Knowledge

2008-04-29T09:25:00.000-07:00

The Boy: Did you know if you fly into the assmussfear that you will get fire hot?

Me: What if you have a space ship?

The Boy: I dunno. Maybe it will get fire hot, but you will be safe inside.

Me: That makes sense.

The Boy: Did you know that Carnage and Venom wear the same outfit but they are different colors and that they both hate really loud noises. And that can only mean one thing. It means that Venom is Carnage's son!

Me: No, I did not know that.

The Boy: And if they hear a really, really loud noise, their clothes fall off?

Me: Their clothes fall off?

The Boy: Yeah!

Me: They are naked?

The Boy: No! They have on underwear.

Me: What kind of underwear do they wear? Think they have Spider Man undies? Like you!

The Boy: Mom! They are mortal enemies. They just have bad guy underwear. (duh)

Pictures The Girl Took

2008-04-23T10:01:00.000-07:00

It is always interesting to see how a child views the world...

Photography courtesy of The Girl....

What is up with this chick?

2008-04-18T11:02:00.001-07:00

So I take The Girl to a local Kindermusik class. We have been going for over a year and a half. She loves it! I mean loves it! And I enjoy it too--I must confess. It is fun to sit with all the other moms--gushing over our kids and confessing our imperfections. What? You had to feed your child a cereal bar on the way here too? Oh I love Crocs too--so easy to slide on and off. Yeah, exercising is not my cup of tea either. But there is this one chick. The Super Mom. ugh. Her son has been in our class since day one and even back in the day she made me feel inferior. Her hair--always done. Her make up--impeccable. Her shoes--usually boots. She always has on jewelry and nice, well fitted clothing. She always looks fantastic. I hate her. But in that "I would still be your friend" kind of way. But now, she has just gone way over board.

So she got herself knocked up. I thought surely this is it--we will see her give. She has a 4 year old that she goes to an early class with and then her 2 year old after. Surely she cannot juggle all of that and show up looking like a friggin super model to boot.

I waited 9 long months. That chick never missed one class. She never showed up in sweats or without makeup. And she never failed to have on some pair of fashionable shoes.

I watched her stomach get bigger and bigger and she went on with life like nothing at all was different. Did I mention I hate her? When I was preggers, I looked like death warmed over. I could barely move much less get myself dressed to that standard.

Last week I saw her wince when she was getting up.... I thought WOW! One small sign that maybe it was becoming hard to handle.....but that was it...just one little moment.

And then this week, we come to class. Her belly is gone. I will be damned if that chick did not go into labor right after Kindermusik last week, have her baby, and still show up to class this week. That wince I saw? She was in LABOR! And still there singing and dancing with her boy. I am a failure.

And so, she shows up with her 4 year old, 2 year old and 1 week old...not missing a beat. And yes, she was in heels.

An investment you can sink your teeth into

2008-04-18T10:49:00.000-07:00

The Boy lost his second tooth this week. I meant to blog about the loss of his first tooth which was by far a much bigger deal for him. First tooth, he came home all triumphant that he had gotten the tooth out with minimal bleeding and no pain. He had a certificate from Ms. Drama. He got a treasure box to keep his tooth in as a keepsake. And the tooth fairy left him $5.00 for that very important first tooth. However, she let him keep it since he had that ultra cool orange treasure box for it.

This time....he forgot to tell me that he lost it. He also forgot to bring it home. And the tooth fairy forgot to come....so she snuck in while he was at school the next day. Turns out, the second tooth snags a solid $1.00 bill. Not a bad draw for a 6 year old. In my day she only handed out a quarter. Of course, I never charmed her with pictures like:

That Fairy is putty in his hands...

How Low Can You Go?

2008-04-14T09:10:00.000-07:00

Our shower head busted last week....After a week of taking showers in the kids bath, stepping on bath toys and running down the hallway in nothing but a towel, guess where we were this weekend? Yes, a proverbial family outing to Lowe's to buy a new shower head. We looked at all of them, reading the boxes, talking about the styles, deciding which was plastic and which was metal. After the children were getting in trouble for climbing on the stacks of stock and chasing each other up and down the aisle, I took them on a circle around the store. I got back, expecting Techno Geek to be done with his decision, but no....still thinking about it. After about 20 minutes, we finally made a decision. I plopped down $68.00 on a brand new rain head. This is our fourth--we love them. This one was very similar to our first which is forever etched in our minds as the ultimate in shower heads. Alas, it was left behind when we moved from our condo 4 years ago and showers have never quiet been the same. So, you can imagine how much I looked forward to a bath in the morning!

Techno Geek was the first to try it out. He said it was "ok." Kind of in a Randy "Dawg" kind of way. (Shout out to my American Idol homies!) He warned me that it did not have too much in way of pressure, but that is all right--I don't mind a gentle rain fall. Then he tells me that it takes so long to build up the pressure that it still runs for about 2 minutes after you turn it off. Okay....this should be interesting.

So, this morning is my time. Anxiously, I hop in and turn it on....it is much bigger out of the box. In my small shower stall, it looms over me like a giant silver sunflower. Or maybe a huge cyclops eye. Either way, it is intimidating. And even worse--it is a shiney hiney silver and acts like a overhead mirror. I can see every intimate detail of my showering experience. But, I tread on--convinced it will feel like my showers of old.

Techno Geek was right, it does take a while to build up pressure--only getting half of the head to work. But eventually, it does come up to full speed. And full speed is a bit like having a elf over your head pouring a cup of water on you. No pressure is probably a better description. I like to beat the dirt off of me...this felt like it was being asked kindly to leave.

Have you ever seen that episode of Seinfeld with the low flow shower head that Jerry got?

Yeah, that's me today. Looks like this bad boy is going back to Lowe's!

A conversation between father and son

2008-04-14T08:21:00.000-07:00

The Boy: (from inside the bathroom stall) Dad?
Techo Geek: Yes?
The Boy: What does B-O-O-T-Y mean?
Techo Geek: Just finish your business.

I was this close

2008-04-10T08:33:00.000-07:00

Man, I was depressingly close to getting rid of Cousin Eddie next door. After cornering me on my way into my house (I try to avoid all eye contact, but he chases me down sometimes) he started talking about how he was fired last weekend and may end up getting in trouble with his house payments. After further talk (all of which I would have been too ashamed to tell my neighbors), he says he was fired from McDonald's in December and they had gotten into foreclosure on ONE of their house loans. Apparently after living there two years, not only do they carry a huge mortgage, but also two extra loans. WOW. *blank stare* What do I say? I just said "awwwwwwwwww"

Then he asks me if I cut my hair. Why, yes, I did. He noticed yesterday when I was mowing the yard. I knew I was being watched. He likes it. It looks good. I am starting to feel uncomfortable now, thank you. I make a comment to break the tension about how I like to cut it short in the summer and let it grow in the winter to which he replies that he likes to do the same thing...he has a mullet...

I wish I had the gutso to tell him all the stuffing from his green sectional couch was littering my back yard. Yes--he has a couch outside. I wish I could tell him to keep his 9 dogs quiet or to pooper scoop his yard cause the feces run off is actually making me move my child's playset for her safety.

But I use work as my excuse and manage to break out of the conversation just in time for Oswald to start on TV. Go Weanie!

While I'm at it

2008-04-08T12:53:00.000-07:00

Bears, Beets, BattleStar Galactica

There

2008-04-08T12:35:00.000-07:00

That's better

The Streak is over

2008-04-08T12:08:00.000-07:00

Again. The boy just came home....four rules broken today. Of course, the big "A" reared it's ugly head today. Which big "A" is yet to be determined. We have heard both Asperger's and ADHD, so who knows. I love sending him off to school and knowing he will come home with a sticker and a smile on his face. I love spending my night enjoying my child's time and feeling like maybe I am getting it right. But alas, tonight will be a night of towing the line. I was joking last night that if The Boy were an Indian his name would have to be "He Who Does Not Take No For An Answer." From my understanding, he did not do all of his work and therefore, broke four rules. *sigh*

On another note, one of our credit cards was sabotaged last week. For thieves, they are kind of boring. They only did 1500 in damage. They bought some sporting stuff and made a mortgage payment. BORING. They should have at least tried for a flat screen tv.

Sometime today I have to vacuum playdough out of my window screen. Don't ask. If The Girl were an Indian her name would have to be "She Who Tests Patience."

Techno Geek recently travelled to the land of the Native American--Arizona. This was a real testament to my patience. Every day children would cry and The Girl would wail "My Daddy. I need my Daddy" as she was falling asleep. On the day he was coming back, we talked about Daddy coming home on a plane. This got her attention. Later that day, we had this conversation:

The Girl: It's a comet!
Me: No, that is a cloud from a plane.
The Girl: A plane go in the sky!?!
Me: Yes!
The Girl: I go on plane too.
Me: Would you like to fly in a plane?
The Girl: You fly too. And Daddy and Wyatt and me all fly. And my blue blankie and my cat and Ms. Innifer (Ms. Jennifer)and all my friends.
Me: Your friends?
The Girl: All my friends from kider class (Kindermusik)
Me: Oh ok. That is a big trip.
The Girl: Yeah....we all go in plane.....

She exhausts me. I have no idea how she knew what a comet was. Last night we had t-ball practice. The Girl cannot wait to be on a team, but we are 2 years too early for her. She was all decked out in her team shirt, hat and glove. She ran out on the field and ran bases with The Boy. Then the coach gathered up his team and told her to get off the field. Big fat alligator tears...turned down lip quivering...she only felt better when Techno Geek took her to the side and did a "practice" with her. Yes, she is cute....I love her....but man, can she be high maintenance.

And then there is me--Mrs. Sunshine. I spray painted a table today. My fingers hurt. Is there anything else I can possibly complain about? Oh I know....my shower is broken. Water is spraying all over the walls when you turn it on. And I don't know what I will make for dinner cause even though I plan two weeks in advance, I fail in the ability to actually buy everything I need for cooking. I bet your eyes are now bleeding from this depressing, dull post. humph

Silent Saturday

2008-03-22T07:31:00.000-07:00

10 Things on My Mind

2008-03-10T11:20:00.000-07:00

1) Upcoming Spring Break Trip--I want a vacation! I want to hit the road and have some fun! I want to make sure we eat at the highest rated restaurants and hit the museums at just the right time so that we make the most of it. Long gone are the trips where we just go and explore without an agenda or game plan. Desperate must plan. Desperate must know what to do when just so she can semi enjoy the trip.
2) Making schedules for work--I am in the middle of 3rd quarter work schedules for other supervisors. When I first volunteered for this honor, I only organized the schedule of three people--myself included. Now, I must get 13 people to get along and pretend to be happy. I simply cannot please everyone and gave up trying a long time ago.
3) My filthy house--MUST SPRING CLEAN! I have been the Night of the Living Dead around here. Why in the hell is it so hard for me to stay on top of it all? I have no idea. I have no idea why there is juice splashed across the hallway walls. I have no clue how that bread crust got in the couch. Oh--there is mold growing in the back of the fridge? At least it is contained in tupperware.
4)Meat--Desperate is a vegetarian. But 1/2 of my family is not. I am worried about their consumption of hormones, steroids, preservatives, dyes and antibiotics through something that is supposed to be healthy for them. Google is my friend. MUST FIND HEALTHY FOOD FOR MY FAMILY!
5)My Neighbors--My neighbor is Cousin Eddie from National Lampoons Vacation. Desperate has decided that fictional characters sometimes do come to life and move next door to her. In the past Cousin Eddie has raised free roaming chickens, brought home 9 dogs--4 in and 5 out and not cleaned up the poop, let his grass grow to about calf height before cutting it with his 20 year old lawn mower while dressed in his wife beater and puffing his cig, and let us not forget--placed his green sectional sofa on his back porch as a bed for his 5 outside dogs who promptly ripped it to tiny shreads. But now--now he is really freaking me out. Cousin Eddie has taken to starring out his window--brazenly watching everything we do. He has a lot of time on his hands. Did I mention he was fired from McDonald's for stealing food? Yeah--he fed it to his dogs.
6)The Boy and Ms. Drama--Our struggles at school continue to some degree. The Boy has been doing better in terms of his behavior, but all of those reports and studies we have been waiting for over the past few months are starting to come in. Last week we had one that studied his focus and behavior. Ms. Drama said some very scathing things about me and our home life--unsubstantiated and very biased opinions and they made it into an official report! Just disgusting!
7) Lost--Desperate is totally intrigued by Lost this season. They are really mixing it up and making it so clever. Last couple of seasons were good, but man--this one leaves me salivating for more episodes! Why is Desmond so important to this entire story? Why was Jack addicted to pain pills? He seemed fine when he first got off the island. Why does Kate have Aaron? Do the people who stay behind die? Who the heck was in the coffin? I am guessing Michael. What is Smokey and what the hell is up with Jacob anyway?
8)My mail--I need to go get my mail. I'll be right back. Ok that is better. I actually got a rug inside my mailbox. I mean, I ordered a rug--just a small one for my front door, but I never expected to find it inside my mailbox.
9)Sleep--I miss that hour...Sure, I like having an hour at night to hang out in daylight, but I really love that hour in the am too! I could move to AZ....
10)Silence--Desperate is desperate for quiet. Time to just be in the moment and notice the little things we miss everyday. Like the sound of my breath or the different chirps of birds outside. I would like to pay more attention to my children's laughs rather than their fusses. I want to be able to pay attention to life as it is happening right now and accept it as it is right now.

My New Nickname

2008-03-10T11:15:00.000-07:00

The Girl speaks a LOT and she speaks well. But there is just this one little problem that she has. She has learned how to transpose some letters in Mom and Dad. So, on occasion, Techno Geek becomes "Mad" and me...well, I become "Dam". Yes, my precious baby girl calls me "Dam". I swear she didn't hear it from me!

Slacker

2008-03-06T17:12:00.000-08:00

Wow, I have been such a slacker this week. Sometimes I feel like this:

And THAT would be my birthday present

2008-02-26T10:20:00.000-08:00

Yes, yes....extravagant....but my husband thinks I am worth it!

PTG VS ATG

2008-02-26T05:16:00.000-08:00

Giving birth the The Girl completely flipped my world. I have become a totally different mother and wife. There is something about adding that second child that just changes everything. It reminds me of the speech Uma Thurman gives in Kill Bill (with a bit of creative license)....

"Before that strip turned blue, (creative license ensues) I was a mom to one. I was your mom. I would have a fall birthday party planned and in place my spring. Before that strip turned blue, I would have feed you all homemade and organic foods and had a place for everything and everything in its place. For you. But once that strip turned blue, I could no longer do any of those things. Not anymore. Because I was gonna be a mother to two." (end of creative license)

But I do want to be that Super Mom I set out to be--I really do. I want to have a house that is clean, organized and efficient. I try to get inspiration from the things around me. For example, I watched Jon & Kate Plus 8 last night scouring for organization ideas from her. But the show--as interesting as it is--really never addresses specifically how she handles 8 children all day long. However, she did make one comment that reverberated in me. Kate said, "I am never behind because I refuse to fall behind." I am always behind anymore. I cannot believe I ever had it together enough to plan an entire party months ahead of time. Now, I forget to send out invitations, much less plan the menu. When we went on vacations, not only would I have all activities mapped out, I would pre pack up to a week ahead of time. ATG (after the Girl) I pack the morning of. And kids activities--forget about it. With The Boy, I had activties lined up almost every day--including reading time, music time, art time, and imaginary play time. With The Girl, if Elmo doesn't do it with her, it isn't getting done.

Maybe I am too hard on myself or maybe I am just lazy. But I'm trying real hard Ringo....I'm trying real hard to be the Super Mom. (ok, ok My apologies to Quinten Tarantino) I still manage to send out home made Christmas cards every year. I just redid The Girl's room in fairy theme--hand making the decorations and painting the pictures on the walls. I joined PTO. I let my child sleep in a cardboard box because he uses it for his clubhouse and wants to camp out on weekends. I make dinner at least 3-4 nights a week (maybe more). I drive a mini van and I even manage to clean the bathtub time and again.

I suppose in the grand scheme of things, all of us do our very best. No one is perfect. No one is broken either. We just do our best, muddle along and pray that one day our children will not drag us onto Oprah and talk about what bad parents we were. Although a free trip to Chicago would not be that bad...

Another Science Lesson

2008-02-19T19:00:00.000-08:00

The Girl developed an attraction to a plastic giraffe today. She played with it all morning and even took it to nap with her. When she got up, she wanted to bring it with her. So, during diaper changing time, I made small talk about said giraffe. It went a little something like this:

Me: So, what is your giraffe's name?
The Girl: roarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Me: No, what is his name? Not his noise....
The Girl: What? His name?
Me: How about Bob?
The Girl: No, not Bob! (laugh)
Me: OK Larry?
The Girl: Not Larrrreeeee (laugh)
Me: Sue?
The Girl: No.....(laugh)
Me: Is it a boy or a girl giraffe?
The Girl: What?
Me: Is your giraffe a boy or a girl?
The Girl: I dun know. It a giraffe!

Goodnight to me---forever?

2008-02-19T18:55:00.000-08:00

Me: You are my little baby boy. (hugging The Boy goodnight) Even if you are big. Look at you--you are like a giant. How did you get so big?

The Boy: I will always be your little baby boy. Now matter how big I get, I will always be your little baby boy and also your big boy. (putting his hands on my shoulders and giving me a serious look) And if you die, I will always remember you.

What a goof....

Things I love

2008-02-14T11:01:00.000-08:00

A tribute to love on Valentine's Day

my husband

my kids--snot and all

cheese

movies--even sucky ones

I think I love my netti pot--but I am still not sure

crafts

finding a really good sale

pay day

vacations

car rides--long ones that require napping

eating out

napping on the beach

waking up on the beach

Disney World--it really is the happiest place on earth--really!

chocolate chip ice cream

the smell of industrial glue

my body pillow

long showers

salsa

cilantro

blue

green

John Taylor

collecting sea shells

planning my kids birthday parties

Yoda

baby feet

kittens

Pottery Barn

shorts

yoga

when a new magazine comes in the mail

picnics

painting the wall a new color

Coca-Cola

Dr. Pepper

Cherry Dr. Pepper from Sonic

our wedding picture

shade

rocks

sleepy medicine

store credit

catching fireflys

getting my point across

As I write this, Wow Wow Wubzy is singing, "Love, love, love.....love is all around..."

Happy Love Day :)

A Science Lesson

2008-02-14T10:54:00.000-08:00

The scene: We are watching some show and beavers are on...PBS versions of beavers that is.

The boy: It's a dam!
Me: That's right. Who made that dam?
The boy: Beavers make them.
Me: Why would they do that?
The boy: They make them to stop the water from getting from this side to that side.
Me: But how do they build them?
The boy: They use their teeth and they eat through a branch and then they pile those up and it blocks the water.
Me: oh, ok

The end.

Boogie Woogie Blues

2008-02-12T12:06:00.000-08:00

I have been sick since last Friday and not really in the mood to write, soooooooooo I want to share what I made a couple of weeks ago.

Look! A pretty picture for the girl's fairy themed big girl room.

I am slowly transferring everything over to

faith,

trust

and pixie dust

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The fruit of my womb

2008-02-07T12:46:00.000-08:00

I love Duran Duran. Ever since I was 10 years old and Seven and the Ragged Tiger was out. The Reflex was the first song I ever heard and man, was I hooked. To this day I still have all of my albums, 45s, and a really old scrapbook barely holding on to the tattered interviews and posters from Tiger Beat and BOP magazine.

So, it is only natural that when their new album dropped in November, I would get it. And listen to it. In the house, in the car. And since my children are always with me, they listen to it too. I have to admit, I love it. My children picking up on Mom's musical tastes--who wouldn't love that? But that seems to have backfired a little bit. My children have an intense admiration for the title track of the album, Red Carpet Massacre. At first, I enjoyed playing it and watching them dance along. It was really cute when the girl started singing the lyrics with that sweet two year old tone to her voice. It was awesome when the boy would pump his fist in the air like a little Simon LeBon. The problem is--it is the only song they want to listen too. When the next track comes on, all I hear is "ed asser!" coming at me from the once innocent babe behind me. If I do manage to get through another song on the album, the boy will start asking the girl, "You want to hear Red Carpet Massacre, right?" and with his prodding, eventually there will be a chant of sorts hurdling towards me. "Moe ed asser!" the girl demands. Since I won't be able to listen to any other tracks in peace, I relent. Good thing I like that song!

Enough already

2008-02-07T11:19:00.000-08:00

I am sick and tired of comments like "They had one kid with autism. Why didn't they stop?" or "They should never have had another child." First off, a lot of people have no idea that anything is wrong with their child until they are older and already have siblings. And second--whose business is it anyway? Are you really going to tell me that my girl does not deserve to live because her older brother has Asperger's? What a crock. Not only is that stupid, but it is basically saying my son should never have been born and for that--shame on you!

No, no one has said this to me personally, but I was following the blog of a family with 6 autistic children. http://www.autismbitestheblog.blogspot.com/ It is shocking and insane what some people are telling them. More than one person has had the gall to say they should have been sterilized. Sick.

Autism is not a curse--it is a way of life. Does it shake you to your core? yes. Can you overcome it? yes. Does every parent face challenges parenting? aw hell yes!

So, shut up everybody and keep your ignorant opinions to yourself. If you are going to be a turd-go lay in the yard!

She likes a clean bowl

2008-02-07T09:10:00.000-08:00

I have decided a new nickname for the girl will be The Biscuit. You remember The Biscuit--from Ally McBeal? Geniusly played by Peter McNicol, The Biscuit had many quirks in his personality, but, his best was the toilet remote...One day Ally heard the toilet flushing itself. Running out of her stall perplexed, she found the biscuit entering the unisex bathroom, remote in hand. After giving him a look of "What in the hell?" he explained matter of a factly, "I like a clean bowl." The girl, just like The Biscuit, prefers no floaties, paper, particles or odd colors in her bowl. And as a potty training toddler, she is enamored with the way the toilet works. You fill it up, you flush. You fill it up some more, you flush again.

A quick Google search confirmed for me that toilet remotes actually do exist. This one is attached to the toilet--kind of defeats the purpose. Nonetheless, it does have some handy options, such as turning on music when you are doing your business (where it comes from exactly is still a mystery) and my personal favorite, the backside wash. In case you are unsure of which button turns that function on, just look at the buttons carefully for a nice behind getting a geyser looking surprise!

Dear ABC,

2008-01-31T12:37:00.001-08:00

I must say it has been a very long 9 months. I have scoured the spoiler boards for tidbits--morsels if you will of anything and everything to satisfy my cravings. I have jumped to attention every time I ran across a promo for the season opener. I spent time reviewing Season 3 on dvd just to pick up and hints of what may be next. And here we are.....only 6 hours to go. LOST is back! It may only be for 8 measly episodes, but after waiting long enough to give birth to another child, it is so worth it to me!

Ahhhh Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Hurley.....it is like welcoming old friends back. But really, how could you kill of Charlie? That was sad. I cried. And I have to admit--not so sure how I feel about flash forwards, but we'll see. You haven't LOST me yet! harharhar But I digress....

What will I do with this little teaser of 8 episodes ABC? Then we have to wait another year before another bone. *sigh* Thanks for bringing it back--even for a short time, ABC.

Signed,

A Lostie at Heart

Drama Follows Me Around

2008-01-30T06:38:00.001-08:00

Ms. Drama (The boy's 1st grade teacher) is at it again. Last Friday she said he threatened to rip a child to shreds with the safety scissors. I was told to not let him watch TV. Uh-huh. He also said we had a baboon at home that would do the dirty deed. Guess Animal Planet is now a really bad influence! Yesterday, he told three 3rd graders he was going to "chop their heads off." Wow, sure is brazen of a 1st grader cornered in the boys bathroom by a posse of 3rd grade homies. Guess that was all his 6 year old brain could come up with. Of course, this warranted a visit to the principal's office and additional threats to my sanity on the behalf of Ms. Drama.

"But Desperate," you say, "why can't the teacher deal with the boy by herself? Doesn't she have a plan in place?"

Uh--no. Classroom management? Has she never heard of it?!? Fuh-get about it! Ms. Drama doesn't have the energy or will to work with her class. After all, she has too many discipline notes to fill out. She would just rather throw the wild, unruly, nasty little buggers another worksheet to bore them to tears and go gossip to the teacher aides and other parents.

Thing is, I know teachers. I work with hundreds of teachers every day. I know the difference between a teacher who genuinely loves her job and one who just got stuck in it. I also know how easy it is to get your teacher license. After all, I did it. And I am very, very lazy! I know how easy it is to get a "A". I also know that "A" doesn't count for squat when you get out into the real world. There is a dirty little secret in the foo-foo world of teachers. Those with relatives or friends on the school board get first preference--and the most job security. Those who kissed the principal's arse so much their face is permanently imprinted on said butt are second choice. Those who kept their nose to the grindstone, learned about solid research based teaching practices and have the child's best interest at heart--well, those are last choice. And did I mention the clique going on amongst our teaching staff? You think high school was bad--man, oh man, they have nothing on a group of educators with their apples on their lapels and their buns on their heads.

Teachers of the world, do not get your panties into a wad. I simply speak from experience. There are exceptions to every rule. But I can tell you, as a supervisor to teachers, I see a total lack of professionalism, tact, courtesy, concern and common sense on a daily basis. And that my friends, describes Ms. Drama to a T!

I heart TMZ.com

2008-01-29T13:13:00.000-08:00

It would seem my new obsession is reading the celebrity gossip on TMZ.com. They update multiple times a day, so really, it is far better than waiting on the next issue of People to come out. I'm not sure why I am so fascinated by stars and their downfalls, but I am. And I always have been. It probably started with an innocent addiction to National Enquirer as a child. My grandmother read it--why couldn't I? As a teenager, I graduated to Teen Bop and 17 magazine. And may I just say......

God

My Duran Duran centerfolds were just as tantalizing as the latest Playboy of the month was to the teenage boys. Those Wild Boys can be so cheeky!

But I digress.....

As an adult I got cable TV. You have a ton of choices here, but probably the best know is Entertainment Television.

Who does not remember ET and Liesa Gibbons talking about the scandals in Tinsel Town? I always knew who was screwing who--where--and with what!

Why, they even had entire networks *just* devoted to dishing out every little tidbit they can find on the jet set.

But I hadn't seen anything yet!

Three words--world wide web. Yes, yes, yes. It has opened a world of opportunities for voyeurs like myself. Those who wish they could have been stars, but lacked the gusto. And yes, I can be honest--those like myself who are so jealous they cannot see straight. Man, I love it when Brittany has a break down. Or when a Baldwin gets arrested. What? Lohan was drinking again? Bring it on! I have nothing better to do. *sinister grin* Plus it gives me lots to talk about at parties!

It is probably no coincidence that one of my favorite childhood songs was "Dirty Laundry" by Don Henley. So, in honor of all my wacked out, drugged up, plastic injected, dog wearing, pretend cyber friend celebs, I post the lyrics!

I make my living off the evening news

Just give me something-something I can use

People love it when you lose,

They love dirty laundry

Well, I coulda been an actor,

but I wound up here

I just have to look good,

I don't have to be clear

Come and whisper in my ear

Give us dirty laundry

Kick em when they're up

Kick em when they're down

Kick em when they're up

Kick em when they're down

Kick em when they're up

Kick em when they're down

Kick em when they're up

Kick em all around

We got the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde who

Comes on at five

She can tell you bout the plane crash with a gleam

In her eye

Its interesting when people die-

Give us dirty laundry

Can we film the operation?

Is the head dead yet?

You know, the boys in the newsroom got a

Running bet

Get the widow on the set!

We need dirty laundry

You don't really need to find out whats going on

You don't really want to know just how far its gone

Just leave well enough alone

Eat your dirty laundry

Kick em when they're up

Kick em when they're down

Kick em when they're up

Kick em when they're down

Kick em when they're up

Kick em when they're down

Kick em when they're stiff

Kick em all around

Dirty little secrets

Dirty little lies

We got our dirty little fingers

in everybodys pie

We love to cut you down to size

We love dirty laundry

We can do the innuendo

We can dance and sing

When its said and done

we haven't told you a thing

We all know that crap is king

Give us dirty laundry!

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet

2008-01-25T15:04:00.000-08:00

I was in the kitchen when I heard the girl come into the room.

Clump--clump--clump went her shoes as they hit the floor. I thought this odd due to the fact I had not put on her shoes.

Upon further inspection, I found out, not only had she put her shoes on, she also put her own socks on--and everything was right! The seams on the socks were in the proper place on her toes. The shoes were on their respective feet. I told her what a great job she did and asked her if she wanted to take a picture. Of course, she said yes because let's face it--the girl is very fond of herself and particularly enjoys pictures of herself immortalizing her every move. She gleefully propped up on a chair and this picture is the result. Did I mention she is only 2?

Editor's note: Please note--the shoes are brown. This is proof positive I did not put her shoes on. I most certainly would have picked black dahling! *snob nose in the air*

Frienemies....thanks for the memories.....

2008-01-25T08:50:00.001-08:00

FRIENEMY: A "toxic" person who poses as a friend but

subconsciously or consciously wishes you harm.

The Devious Plan

2008-01-25T08:28:00.000-08:00

The boy has decided he is going to make a hologram of himself to send to school in his place.

The boy: I am going to make a hologram to send to school.

Me: Really? And what exactly is a hologram? (curious to his response)

The boy: It is when you take a picture of yourself but it is not on paper and then you send it someplace else and people think it is you but it isn't you. It's a hologram!

Me: oh, of course.

And thank you Cartoon Network!

Resolution #2

2008-01-20T07:33:00.000-08:00

As I sat at that table, listening to the "experts" tell me what was best for my boy, I wanted to explode. Explode in anger, expletives, tears, wails--you name it, I wanted to make it happen. Nine reported "professional experts" telling me my son was too smart for the school system to take care of anymore. Nine virtual strangers--who don't really know my boy--who don't understand or recognize his needs--deciding that because he is intelligent and scores well on standardized tests that he does not need any school services other than speech. I know my boy. I understand what he needs. I understand that cutting out his OT service is devastating--and I tell them.

From the back corner I hear a voice pipe up--a new lady--the first time she has ever been to one of the boy's IEP meetings. A woman who doesn't know my boy at all--only by name. And she says to me, "If you take nothing else out of this you need to understand this is a good thing. You need to celebrate his success." Wow. Celebrate his success. After numerous calls from the Principal's office about his behavior; after his teacher spewing her dislike of him to other parents; after he has been forced into the back corner of his room to keep him quiet, now I need to celebrate is success. He is smart--no kidding. I already knew that. His speech is improving--no kidding, tell me something I don't know. Let me tell you something new-you just yanked the only service that was truly helping him. But hey--let's celebrate!

My boy is likely on the Autism spectrum--having a preliminary diagnosis of Asperger's. And let me tell you what I celebrate. I am so happy my boy is NOT like all the others. He is independent. He is creative. He is expressive. I have no reason to believe that once he graduates and enters the world on his own, he will be successful at whatever he chooses to do. I celebrate his uniqueness every day. But he has an impairment. Would you take glasses away from someone with a vision impairment?

I concordance with New Years Resolution #2, we will be pursuing our own avenues for therapy and related services. As the girl would say, "You go get 'em, ok?"

a funny to share

2008-01-16T15:13:00.000-08:00

Week late and a dollar short

2008-01-07T14:29:00.000-08:00

Resolutions....here we are a full week into 2008 and I am just now getting around to putting these in mental concrete. What can I say? So far 2008 is as physically draining and emotionally futile as 2007. But I am a optimist damnit! So here I am--making THE LIST.

I resolve to go green. Not jealous....not Incredible Hulk....not Jolly Green Giant....and not rich. I want to learn more about toxin free living and try to adopt it into my lifestyle as much as possible.

I resolve to learn more about advocacy and Special Ed rights. The boy has been speech delayed and sensory seeking since he was one. Now that he is in First Grade the word Asperger's is floating about. We are still waiting for an official diagnosis from a developmental pediatrician. But in the meantime, I want to advocate for my son in the face of a unsympathetic (indeed PATHETIC) school and staff.

I resolve to go on two family vacations. I also made this promise last year and went on three. *wink*

I resolve to grow a herb garden.

I resolve to go to an allergist sometime this year and start immunotherapy shots again.

Well, I could go on, but much more than 5 and I really start to get predictable and let's face it--just in denial. I will never promise myself that this will be my year to loose weight and stop eating chocolate. Or that I will never say another cuss word. Or that I will give up my Cokes and Dr. Peppers--nectar of the Gods. I could say that I will live my life to its fullest and enjoy what I have, but in reality, I will use those cuss words, chocolate and sodas to soothe over the daily stress. Life is just stressful and there is nothing you can do about it. For right now, I will resolve to sit on my fat arse and write about it!

TGIF!

2007-12-29T11:49:00.000-08:00

My Friday went a little something like this...

--woke up over and over again through out the night coughing my lungs out. Had to double up on cough meds just to settle down.
--woke up late and in a fog thanks to said cough meds.
--laid in bed for an hour trying to remember my name and where I was. OK, maybe that is a bit of a hyperbole, but it is semi-accurate.
--made the boy some breakfast, let the dog out to pee, made and ate some breakfast myself, took a bath, dried hair, and finally made it to the girl's room.
--found the girl in not one, but two, dried up pools of vomit. Got her cleaned up.
--fussed over and over at the boy to get dressed as I am battling a sick two year old to put on her shirt.
--gathered the last of the "big" Christmas boxes and discarded wrapping paper piles into the back of the van so that it can get to the trash dump sometime in 2007.
--stepped back outside with both kids to realize it is now raining buckets. We have no umbrella.
--struggled to get the van door open in the rain, with a fussing baby and a hyper 6 year old who insisted on bringing the dog with him.
--finally, got into the van and got everyone into their seats. Got soaking wet while the girl fusses about taking off her coat.
--realized that the car battery is, in fact, dead. Now it makes sense why the sliding door would not slide.
--sat in the car, defeated, and waited for the rain to stop. Explained to the children that we cannot go anywhere cause the car battery is dead.
--Rushed back inside during a rain lull to realize we really didn't have any food for lunch since I have not been to the grocery store since before Christmas.

(Did I mention this was all just the first 2 hours of my day?)

--Sat down to start work. I will sit at my computer for the next 5 hours trying to balance job duties and parenting--which I am expected to do simulatneously and seamlessly.
--answered a work phone call while stopping the girl from pulling the dog's tail. Try to muffle the sound of her disappointment through the headset.
--figured out that we have rolls in the freezer. Took a discreet moment to fix small, but palatible sandwiches--complimented by goldfish crackers.
--watched three hours pass as the boy learned to ride his razor scooter (a new Christmas present) in circles inside the house. Offered lots of praise and took several deep breaths as he got faster and faster.
--Put the girl down for nap. She is happy as long as she has at least 3 toys, 5 books, 3 blankets, 1 water sippy, 1 light, and music.
--Argued with the boy that he cannot keep Cartoon Network on all day long and asked him to please watch PBS or soemthing more educational. His answer to this was to play games on the computer at Cartoonnetwork.com. I am working again and do not notice. He knows this.
--Finally, I can log out of work only to realize that the boy is on the computer playing at Cartoonnetwork.com. This oversight is now corrected.
--Got 10 minutes of floor exercise as I watched Oprah. This is interrupted by a razor scooter rolling precariously close to my head. I got up.
--Straightend up the house. Sweept the floors.
--Started making pizzas for dinner. One is a special 3 cheese pizza for the boy--a very picky eater.
--We all sat down to dinner. The boy announced he no longer likes yelow cheeses and will not be eating his dinner. The girl is apparently still ill and not at all interested in eating pizza. I, for one, like my pizza, so I eat mine and theirs.
--The Techno Geek is now home. We are instructed by the girl that we must sit in the floor of the kitchen as he eats. She is going to put in a singing show.
--The boy continued zooming the house on his razor scooter. He has tricks to show his father.
--The girl asks for and recieves a bath.
--The boy did not ask for his bath, but got one anyway. Meanwhile, I swept the floor for a second time.
--With time to spare, we started to watch the Planet Earth DVD. We picked the Mountains episode. I struggled to stay awake. The Techo Geek took a nice deep nap. The boy rode his scooter.
--Bedtime for children. This blur of demands and pleads took over an hour.
--used my nettipot. No, it is not drugs. It is a sinus cleanser. You literally pour water from one side of your nose out the other. Not pleasant, but is really nice after the fact.
--Watched Lost Season 3 bonus materials. Learned that Desmond was having Deja Vu--only backwards.
--Midnight--climbed into bed with my humidifier running and took another dose of my cough meds. Bracing myself to do it all again on Saturday.

Turcatey

2007-12-20T15:21:00.001-08:00

I assure you, the stories I write here are real. This is honestly my life. Welcome to the insanity....

As you know, about a week ago, my cat was run over. He was a lovely white cat with light brown tabby stripes. He had loved to meow and rub up against your legs for attention. He was 10 years old.

I was out of town when it happened and did not get to witness him or the aftermath. Perhaps that is why I keep seeing him everywhere.

From the corner of my eye, he darts about. One day, I knew I saw him out my backyard window. On a second inspection, I realized it was our dog--who also happens to be white. The next day I stopped cold when I thought I saw him laying in the grass across the street--it was just a plastic bag. Yes, Simon is indeed gone--even if it doesn't seem quite real.

Yesterday, on my way to town, I see something on the side of the road. As I get closer I realize it's an animal. I always feel a sense of disappointment when I see any animal as road kill--let alone a cat--and especially after having my own pet die in such a manner. Getting closer, it seems to be a cat--a white cat with familiar brown stripes. It is sitting in a freakish position--up on it's bottom, leaning forward, legs splayed. I gave my usual "awwwwww......too bad," speech to myself and continue on the road. But this animal I can't stop thinking about. What were the odds a cat would land that way? And actually stay? It bothered me. I wanted to go back and push it over so it was laying on its side. I don't know why, it just bothered me. Like its was propped up for some road side freak show. And then I think..what if it isn't dead and it's trying to get up? What if it is hurt and still alive?

I turn around and head back.

Coming up on the scene, I try to brace myself. Living in the country, I have seen my fair share of road carnage. It can be brutal to say the least. It was still there, but it didn't look as white as I first saw--this time it looked beige all over. I started to slow down and pull over. It has no head. Just a big gaping hole. OK didn't expect that.

But this is where it gets very strange. I know, I know--strange is turning around to go look at a probably dead cat. To do what? Try to save it? That never crossed my mind, but I didn't have to worry about that. Turns out, it isn't a cat--not at all. It is a turkey. No, not a turkey on the lamb from the slaughter house...and not a wild turkey who took a wrong turn. I mean a turkey like you buy for Thanksgiving. A "pass the gravy?" kind of turkey. There it was--a random, unwrapped, uncooked turkey in the median. I have to admit, I was relieved. But at the same time I didn't know what to think! Which was stranger--that I saw my dead cat on the side of the road but it was really a turkey OR that I saw a raw turkey laying on the side of the road. I think I may be going insane...

I'm old enough to be his mom!

2007-12-15T13:50:00.000-08:00

So a couple of months ago, my family is eating at CiCi's Pizza ("Welcome to Cici's!") when I realized the kid behind the bar is staring at me. Now, I say kid, but I don't mean snot nosed, diaper wearing, lollipop eating KID--I mean full fledged, hormone laden teenager. Feeling a little self conscious, I put down my salad tongs and give him a look back as if to challenge him in a stare war.

Kid: Oh! You really freaked me out.
Me: Really? (Now feeling a bit more self conscious)
Kid: You look just like my mom! I was about to ask you what you were doing here!
Me: hehehe (my fake laugh) really?
Kid: Yeah! You have the same hair and glasses and everything. Wow that is really weird!
Me: Yeah....strange.....

At that moment I realized it. Plain as day. It doesn't matter that I know how long Nicole Richie spent in jail or even who Nicole Richie is. Or that I know what Brittany was up to last night because I read all the celeb gossip sites. It doesn't even matter that I can sing along with Kanye or that I own a Wii and can actually make a decent score on it. And it certainly doesn't matter that I can recite lines from almost every episode of The Office. (did I mention yet that is my favorite show ever??? But I digress) All that is real is that I look old enough to be a teenager's Mom!

When did this happen? Someone give my my iPod and my chocolate already. I need a nap!

1,2,3,4..my Feisty child

2007-12-12T13:35:00.000-08:00

I am in my room hanging curtains when the girl waddles in offering to help. "I help!" she states--believing that she can actually reach the top of the window sill with the 5 pound drill in hand and install the rod with ease. In my usual survival mode, I look for an out. I am most definitely a flight not fight kind of girl. The problem was, I had just cleaned my room and had none of the usual tools of distraction. Just as I was starting to prep myself for a battle of the wills, the Today show (of all things) offered up a distraction of tremendous magnitude. Like an early Christmas gift! Let me back track...

A few months ago, the Techno Geek (aka the Husband) downloaded a little ditty by a group named Feist called "1,2,3,4." Long ago we lost track of how many times the girl would dance to this song. "Again!" she cries each time it goes off. She waddles around the house humming the tune to herself. She will ask the Techno Geek to go downstairs with her to his lair just to play this one song over and over again. And it never grows old.

Fast forward a couple of months and "1,2,3,4" has caught the attention if the Powers That Be at Apple--enlisting the very catchy tune for its IPod campaign. Fast forward through several more girl dances and you have yourself at this morning--in my room--shushing the girl and telling her a surprise was coming on tv. "A supise?" she repeats. "Listen!" I say--covering the drill with a old tshirt.

A familiar beat, a little different as most live versions are, but familiar none the less. Que the singer--ahhhh! Immediate recognition! Instantly her little legs start bouncing. Arms start waving. She starts spinning and bouncing on my bed,diving onto my pillows and jumping back up again to sing the song she loves so much. I have to admit, I danced and sang too. After all, that is one catchy tune.

Fetchin' Bastards

2007-12-12T05:26:00.001-08:00

Who runs over a cat time after time until that cat is no longer recognizable? Especially a cat with a collar--that is some one's pet. MY PET. The boy's pet, too. Sickos.

Shimmering Lights

2007-12-07T10:39:00.001-08:00

From the corner of my eye, I could see my Christmas tree lights blinking. "Since when have I have blinking lights on my tree?" I thought to myself. Yeah, I don't. In reality, it was the girl shaking the tree as she scooted her small 2 year old body behind it. Once I got her out without toppling the tree, I realized this Christmas is going to be very fun, but very challenging. Will she open all of the presents? Will the ornaments stay on the tree? Will she try to pull the tree with her in the same manner she does the dog by her tail? Only time will tell.

The boy is on his 6th Christmas (well, 7th as he was only 4 months old for his first Christmas). He got to put the star on the tree this year--a sign of his littlemanhood. I was amazed he still cared after spending the last hour running around the tree stand playing peek-a-boo behind the trees. It was sweet to hear the laughter of a brother and his sister dashing around trees and trying desperately to enjoy a task most find cumbersome. The boy--a stickler for not changing tradition--had originally protested getting a real tree this year--saying that he wanted the tree we always use. However, when the lights were strung, the ornaments hung and the star atop, we turned the lights out and they marveled.

Robots, Hairbows and String Cheese

2007-12-07T10:17:00.001-08:00

Three things you can find at any given time in my house. The boy--well known for his love of all things cheese--will run through the house, robots in hand, seeking out the next intergalactic war. Those pesky battles seem to always take place within my living room. Bits and pieces of machinery torn and strewn about. Piles of defeated action figures who stand no chance against the massive power of my son--the war lord--and his team of menacing robotic soldiers. An arm here--a leg there....it is brutal I tell you. But then a glimpse of beauty in the midst of the destruction....something shiny....something pink. The girl's hairbows--victims of her 2 year old autonomy--lie on the floor, ready for the vacuum cleaner to suck them into the dirty black hole. They show up everywhere--like little stalkers. In my coat pocket, under my covers, in the floorboard of the car, the bathtub, under the couch cushions, and most ominously, perched upon the edge of the stairs. Over and over again all day I pick up robots and hairbows and anything else they can manage to drag out. And at the end of the long, long day--well, that is a good time to enjoy a string cheese...

Robots, Hairbows and String Cheese

My worry for my children

Isolation

Excuses

A Journey

Goals, NOT resolutions

Airing my dirty laundry

More Bits of Wisdom

Can someone please explain to me...

Out of the mouths of babes

Like the new look?

Family Menu Planning--A PSA

I'm Lovin' This Weather

Before there was Twilight...

Motherhood...umph

Ways in which I will not win Mother of the Year any time soon...

Snow bound projects

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow

My bad

My wish

Breastfeeding is hard

A wee wish for you....

We interrupt this program

Beauty is in the Details

'ho and Tell

Do you have a song

I have been abusing my living room curtains

10 Minutes to a Room You Love

Black is slimming

Smooth Operator

Day Trippin'

A sample of our week

Oh, Happy Craft Day!

10 Little Songs

Mommy Guilt

Sweet Land of Liberty

Aw Come on! --Gob Bluth

Facebook=Pure evil?

I feel pretty...oh, so pretty

I've been sick

Resolution Check!

Little Known Facts About Me--2nd of a miniseries

Wandering Wednesdays

Little Known Facts About Me--A mini series

Someone loved the 80's a little too much....

Wandering Wednesdays

They are everywhere!

Fly on the Wall

Silent Saturday

Dear ABC,

Just Wow

Desperate Does Duran Duran

Guilty Pleasures

Indiana Jones and The Temple of Duh

Coincidence? Hmmmmmmm

Dear Annie Leibovitz,

Trivial Knowledge

Pictures The Girl Took

What is up with this chick?

An investment you can sink your teeth into

How Low Can You Go?

A conversation between father and son

I was *this* close

While I'm at it

There

The Streak is over

Silent Saturday

10 Things on My Mind

My New Nickname

Slacker

And THAT would be my birthday present

PTG VS ATG

Another Science Lesson

Goodnight to me---forever?

Things I love

A Science Lesson

Boogie Woogie Blues

The fruit of my womb

Enough already

She likes a clean bowl

I was this close