Interesting Social Experiment

Raising Future Delinquents

2012-01-11T16:21:00.002-07:00

Since #1 has been telling people about his future in the seminary, I've had a number of reactions. Most have been overwhelmingly positive. As a rule, I don't usually get negative reactions from people about much of anything, I don't know why it is, but it is. The worst have been raised eyebrows and a "That's nice?" I just beam and say, why yes it is! The reaction that has surprised me the most has been, "You must be a great mother!!!" While I try my best to be a good mom, I have so very many shortcomings that glare at me all the time. I guide my kids as best I can, but his vocation is totally a God thing. Just to show that I'm not going to be canonized any time soon, I offer this little glimpse into our lives.
One night this week, homework was finished and a minion asked if I knew how to pick locks. I wiggled my eyebrows mysteriously and said "Maybe." This set off a whirlwind of shouting & begging. "I knew you knew how!" "Teach me, Mom." and "Pleasepleasepleaseplease showmehowtodoit!" I tried to redirect, we needed to get ready for bed. No dice, the Minions were in full frenzy. #2 looked me in the eye and said "Mom, what if it was the zombie apocalypse, we were all locked in a room and you were passed out? Would you want to die because you never taught us to pick locks?!" How could I argue with that logic? I looked at the doors in the house, only the bathroom door has the hole allowing it to be picked. I thought, this isn't so bad, how much havoc could they wreak? Note to self: Never ask that question in this house. I locked the bathroom door, straightened a bobby pin and proceeded to unlock it. The Minions were wild with glee. I guided each one in turn in the magical process. They all did it, with varying levels of ease. It then was decided that the bathroom must always remain locked. If one wants to use the facilities, one must earn one's entrance. When I mentioned that might not be a good idea, what if, for instance, someone had a bathroom emergency? #1 replied "That is a good opportunity to learn how to function under pressure. If someone needs to use the bathroom, they will have to calm themselves and unlock it."
What followed was a day & a half of cursing at the bathroom door and lots of giggling. I've put an end to that new rule.

Best Christmas Gift...Tears!

2012-01-10T19:29:00.004-07:00

As a child I always loved God. I remember understanding the Real Presence at a very young age, having a devotion to the Rosary and an appreciation for the Church. In my early twenties I really began to learn my faith and fell deeply in love. There were many, many years that God & I were really tight. I felt his presence with me all the time. There were so many times during the day that I would be moved to tears by His power and majesty and goodness. I learned that there were many saints that suffered years of spiritual dryness. I felt so sorry for them. My faith wasn't based on feelings, yet how sad it must be to not feel His presence, for faith and the practice thereof to be a purely intellectual pursuit, largely an act of the will.
And then it was all taken away. My tears were gone. It wasn't for a lack of belief, or prayer, or love at all, I was still doing everything I always had, the "feeling" was just sucked out of me. I kept soldiering on. Even thanking God for this opportunity to suffer for Him. As weeks and months grew into years prayer became increasingly difficult. It "felt" like I was just flapping my lips (something that I'm so very good at) for no real purpose. I taught my children about God's love and the fact that He is always with us and is waiting for us always to talk to Him. Though I know it is true, the words seemed hollow. I even prayed occasionally for the feeling to come back, to no avail. I eventually accepted it as my lot in life, noting that I was in the company of some of the greatest saints was small comfort.
In the good and the bad my faith never waived, it was just so very, very dry. In the past couple years, which have been so very difficult, my active prayer has increased, so I assumed that the feelings would come rushing back...not! God's goodness has been so evident in our lives, He has taken perfect care of us, but still no tears, for good or bad.
#1 is now actively discerning his vocation. God has been chasing him down all his life and he has gone back and forth as to what he wants to do. Sometimes he has been drawn to the priesthood, but he wants to be married and have a family. A couple months ago he met with Fr. Paul Sullivan about discernment and he has been doing the things he advised. He is so much more content now than he ever has been in his life. There is a peace about him that is amazing. On Christmas Day #1 told me that he is going in the seminary. He and God had a talk about it during Mass and this is what he needs to do.
And the flood gates opened.
It wasn't immediate, the boy dropped this news on me as we were walking in to the movie theater to watch Puss in Boots! But God is back, I feel Him all around me again, I get teary eyed over the least little thing. Now I do realize that this is a new thing and may not last, but I am so very grateful for it and will savor it as long as it lasts. The tears are as big a miracle for me as my boy wanting to be a priest.

Back in the Saddle?

2012-01-08T22:50:00.000-07:00

Why is it so hard to write?

There are so many things I want to write about, but I don’t. It is so much easier to veg out playing stupid, meaningless games. They aren’t even that much fun, just brain sucking time wasters. Why?

Maybe it is because there are so many big things that occupy my mind most of the time that it is just so nice to be able to turn it off with the games. More likely it is the procrastinator’s deadly trap. I’ll just play for a little bit, the games don’t take that long. The writing or whatever is going to take a lot of time & thought, so I will wait until I have the time to do it. Unfortunately I will not have the time to do it…I need to make the time. And there is the rub, the making of time. That is something I haven’t done in quite some time and desperately need to start again.

Flylady really worked for me once. At a time when my health, physical and mental, was very bad I used the Flylady methods with great success. My house and my life ran so much more smoothly than ever before, or since. I will get back at it. Since the kids have school this week and Joshie & I don’t start until next week, I’m going to use the time to routines set up and begin to purge the crap from my house. When DM lost the house last May and subsequently moved all the crap from his house here, I’ve sort of lost the will to deal with it.

Seven months of despair & denial is wwwaaaaayyyy to long. It ends now. My putting it on here is a desperate bid for accountability.

Happy New Year

2012-01-02T01:57:00.002-07:00

New year...might I blog more/again? We'll see. It sounds like a nice idea tho.

I'm just stopping in right now to say how much I love my kids. Every single one of them has done something in the last week that has made me outrageously happy/proud/in awe of them.

The Princess wanting to give away her extra Easy Bake Oven to a poor girl, even after we told her she could take it to a store & trade it in for something else. #3, after having gone to my brother's non-denominational church today, was overheard telling his brother that "They didn't have the Eucharist! Jesus wasn't even there!" (This is not a slam to my brother or his church, but to show that this kid knows, understands & loves what it means to be Catholic.) #2, well it is so late that I don't remember the specific incident, but he is #2. Amazingly resilient, good natured and has made some very good decisions on his own with only gentle suggestions from me. Like his decision to NOT get the 7" blade in the groovy cane he bought. He really did make that decision, much to my shock & incredible relief. It made me so glad to have let him make the decision instead of forbidding it...the dude does have some sense.

Then there is #1. He has been actively discerning his vocation for a while now. On Christmas Eve Mass God gave him the gift of an answer. I have never seen my boy more happy and at peace. It was the best Christmas present ever...for me too.

So maybe after I sleep I'll write more...or not...we know my track record.

In the new hospital

2011-09-17T16:38:00.002-07:00

Mart wasn't feeling well last night, so the doc on call had us come in to the ED to make sure everything was okay. We were thinking more along the lines of infection somewhere. Well it wasn't alright. No infection, but his hemoglobin was very low. It dropped from 9 on Monday to 6 on Friday. This is not good. The nephrologist still hasn't come in yet so I have no idea if this kind of drop is bizarre or not. I mean, is this just a toasted kidney issue or could there be a bleeding issue that we are unaware of? The not knowing really rots. He just began the transfusion about 20 minutes ago. It will take 4 hours to complete and then we have to wait an indeterminate period of time before repeating the labs to see how he is doing. So, as far as we know, he will be spending another night here.
The ED was a special kind of hell for me. The room we were in was so cold and had hard plastic chairs. My butt was dead within two hours of being there! We wound up collecting nearly a dozen blankets. I wound up scooting my chair over to Mart's bed, putting a pillow on it and laying my head on it. So sitting up resting my head on his bed. The reason it is a special kind of hell is because that was the only way I could sleep when I had cardiomyopathy. I couldn't breathe well at all, but especially not while laying down. Last night brought back some really unfriendly memories that had been buried for a good long time.
Well, the boy is sleeping in a Benadryll haze and I have to do homework.
The upside is that the new tower is awesome. All the rooms are private, big and beautiful. The chair bed is relatively comfy and I'm allowed to use the bathroom. The nurses are nice and know their stuff.

I Are A College Student

2011-08-26T08:59:00.002-07:00

Since I lost my job in February, and haven't found another yet, I enrolled in Scottsdale Community College. While it is scary, I know that this is what I need to be doing. With most of the first week of classes under my belt, I am really excited. The classes I'm taking, however, do not appear to be that taxing. While this is a good thing for my first semester, especially with the life I have, it feels rather silly. I tested very poorly in math, so am starting at the beginning. All the minions, especially #3, like to remind me that they are in more advanced math classes than me. I'm taking yoga, which is really important for ME, not a mentally challenging class. I'm excited for Spanish. In the past six months it has become glaringly apparent that being bilingual is not just a bonus, but a necessity. Then there is "Strategies for College Success". While the book looks good, the class has mostly been touchy-feely, awkward icebreaker, kindergarten level activities. Today is my graphic art class...I'M SO JAZZED!
The thing I've been pondering, especially with Veritas curriculum nights this week, is how to give myself a Veritas education, even though the classes I'm taking are relatively...meh. I'm thinking it hinges on a phrase that drives all the Veritas minions crazy: SENSE OF WONDER. This will be the key to my getting everything I possibly can in school. To foster that in all areas and really dig deep to maintain it, even if I think some of the things we do are boring or silly. Thankfully I've been gifted with a childlike(ish) sense of wonder in life as it is.
Here I go!

This is only a test

2011-08-24T01:04:00.003-07:00

I have school in the morning, and still I can't sleep.

Since it had been so long since I updated this thing, when I posted the other day I was surprised that it came up on FB as a "note". And not a link to my blog. While this is a rather silly peeve, I decided to see if I could correct it. This post is the test to see if I was successful.

Joshie and Mart have a blood test to see if Joshie's kidney would play nice inside Mart's body. THAT is a post for another time.

School rocks. I can't wait to actually learn something. I'm pondering how I could create a Veritas type education for myself while taking relatively banal classes at SCC. "Sense of Wonder" keeps coming to mind.

Just for the sheer randomness of it, here is a picture of me riding the Sky Cycle at the Arizona Science Center. It was S O M U C H F U N!!!!!

Life Moves Pretty Fast

2011-08-20T20:24:00.001-07:00

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while you could miss it.” Ferris Bueller
My life moves so fast. DM and I have been separated for quite some time now. The kids and I have moved three times, #2 went on dialysis, and I lost my job in February. #2 is now on the transplant list, tho’ at this point he has 99% antibodies (not a good thing). It is only by the grace of God that we are surviving financially.
My kids help me stop and look around all the time. Without them I would be in the funny farm. We really do have such fun together.
Now, I’m starting school in two days. I’ve worked really hard to find a job to no avail. This whole school thing just fell into my lap, classes came together & financial aid is paying for all of it. I’m taking that as a sign that this is God’s will for me and am just doing it. I’m mostly excited and a little nervous. I love the fact that #1 and I will be at the same school. We even have a friendly wager as to who will have the better gpa at the semester. The loser will take the winner to a dinner of her choice. (Yes her choice…I’m going to win, you see.) He does remind me constantly that his classes are “more legit” than mine. If there is a tie…he wins the bet as he is taking calculus to my basic math.
So things are constantly changing and moving ever faster. I have the feeling that my life is about to become an episode of “Community”.

There are good things about dialysis

2011-03-17T22:18:00.006-07:00

The first, and most obvious, is that my son is, well, alive and for the most part, not sick.

After that the benefits are more esoteric. I am, albeit slowly, becoming more organized. This is not a good night that I go gently into. But I am on top of the whole process, supplies, diet, etc.

The best of all, though, is my relationship with #2. There is a gentleness and soft side to him now that was not always in the forefront. Of my 4 kids he has always been the most solitary, least cuddly kid. He's always been a joy, but he keeps so much inside. He still does. But we have gotten to spend an inordinate amount of alone time together. Hospital visits notwithstanding, I spend about an hour in his room getting him hooked up to the dialysis machine. Every. Single. Night. While he isn't always in there for the whole process, he is for a good bit of it. I noticed a couple months ago that when I finish up he usually offers a "Thanks Mom, I love you." Not that he never said that before, but it is becoming a regular thing...initiated by him. He has a TV in his room, and so he watches his shows while I get things set up. It has been a bonding opportunity to be interested in the shows he likes. We have developed a routine for Emergency Department visits that have made such excruciating experiences bearable. The thing we do is read hyperboleandahalf.com during the waits. This lady is absolutely crazy and her twisted, twisted sense of humor is right up our alley. So, we check in to the ED and pull out my phone. We pull up Allie's blog and take turns reading it to each other. We wind up giggling hysterically and get funny looks from other inmates as well as wardens. Last night, after they determined that, no, he did not need immediate hernia surgery and we could go home, we had to wait an inordinate amount of time for them to complete our paperwork so we could go home. We got one of the igloo rooms, last night we would have preferred a death valley room. The ED was extremely busy (before getting us in a room we got to wait in the "non-bugger-y waiting room ), but we soon tired of freezing. #2 found a sheet to warm him up (?!) and decided to do this:

This was the view from the hallway:

It's not really surprising that we were released shortly thereafter.

So, dialysis has really given us opportunities that would not have presented themselves otherwise.

I'm back

2011-03-02T09:12:00.002-07:00

Life has changed dramatically. Martin is on dialysis and I have now lost my job. Maneuvering life unemployed with 4 kids is...interesting. I know God will take care of us, he always does. It is just all so uncertain. I need to find my funny again. At least being a vagabond has enabled me to spend more time with the kids. I'm in the process of getting official assistant track coach status. While folding laundry while watching Stripes the other day, I was thinking that the only way life could get any better is if I were being paid for it.
I may add a blog about dialysis...there is so much. I can't decide if I want to create a different one, or just leave it on here. The social experiment seems to have been a failure, at least a failure when viewed through the lens of my current status. I don't know.
Enough rambling. I've got an appointment with a man about a resume. I know that God has the perfect job for me out there...I wish he'd produce it now.

How to spend a Thursday

2010-06-03T19:59:00.003-07:00

While sitting in McDonald's Mart & I were having "story hour". I started reading my favoritist blogging idol, Wendi Aarons. I started reading to him, he begged me to keep reading. We must have read 5-6 posts. When we finished this we were nearly late to pick up Sebass. Check it out, it's a good one.

Parental Fun

2010-06-03T15:54:00.000-07:00

I was going to call this The Joys of Being a Good Parent, but think that there would be at least one Minion with a retort at calling myself “good” at this point.
#1 is a good boy. A very good boy. He has really avoided most of the teen angst & bad behavior, up to this point. Since “being in a relationship” (by the updating of a FaceBook status) he has become increasingly douchebaggy moody. Everyday he finds his siblings to be exponentially more irritating, but one IS a tween and they should be locked in a closet till their voice changes. Any place is better than being at home, or so it would seem.
What follows is the textversation we had yesterday when I requested that he pick me up from the bus & take me to his grandpa’s house, so I could borrow a car.

Me: Please come pick me up and take me to borrow Danggad’s truck.
#1: wait why cant danggad pick u up
Me: Why don’t you call him & find out?
#1: ho ho wichmeans.youhave and he said no
Me: No, he suggested you bring me over.
#1: well linda hasn’t been feeling good i’m not pissed just irked.

When the precious darling picked me up I asked him if he cared to hear my opinion of the fact that he was just irked. He hastily explained that that wasn’t a threat, just that he likes to know what to expect, not have things sprung on him, so he was informing me of his mood.
All I did was look at him. That was all that was necessary. This happened to be the child who, just that morning, informed me that it was the last day for him to fulfill a requirement, so would have to stay after school. And BTW, the sports banquet was also that evening. Hence the need to borrow my dad's car.
He understood the inconsistency between his words and actions.
At least he is a reasonable, irritating, egomaniacal teenager.

2010-05-07T10:05:00.003-07:00

A very wise woman *Hi Toni!!!* mentioned to me today that blogging again might be a good, cathartic activity for me. She pointed out that I don't necessarily need to wait for inspiration to strike me with something amazing & hysterical, because, well, no one reads this anyway. (That last bit was mine) That maybe I should put something...anything. So here is anything.

Those are groovy, monsoon clouds that I shot from the roof of my house, cause that's how I roll. Gotta do a transcription now...when life is slow in desktop, I become a word processor!

2010-04-29T12:50:00.002-07:00

I’m shocked by how long it has been since I’ve blogged.

There have been two impediments:

I refuse to blog anything that is truly bad and/or serious in my life.
Not having the time to rub two brain cells together.

Issue the first:

The minions & I are residing in a different abode from DM. This has been a difficult time & not one I want preserved for posterity…publicly, at least. We are doing well, things are beginning to look up, blah, blah, blah. Not a whole lot of blog-fodder at home.

Issue the second:

I am working full time and have been SWAMPED with work of late. I’m now a “single” mom of 4, count them 4, kids, 3 of whom have extra curricular activities. Not a whole lot of time for blogging.

Now, there have been NUMEROUS blog-worthy events in the past six months. Now that work has slowed up a bit, I’ll see if I can dredge some up.

Implosion

2009-10-17T09:59:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago we found out that this building was scheduled to be imploded. We wound up going downtown to watch it. It was so hot, but we really didn't care. It was so worth it when we got to see it blow.

Another Wordless

2009-09-16T11:28:00.003-07:00

Some Days are Good Mom Days

2009-09-16T11:17:00.002-07:00

Being a mom is hard and most of the time it is thankless & I feel like a failure. Then there are days like yesterday.
#1 needed to be picked up from tutoring, which he went to on his own volition *hooray boy!*, at 4:00. I arrived a bit early so decided to find some of #2’s teachers to ~~check up on the little bugger~~ say hi. While walking along the 2nd floor I spotted #1 at a table with some friends. When he saw me a look of astonishment came over his face and the conversation went something like this:
What are YOU doing here?
Picking you up. What are you doing OUTSIDE?
Tutoring is over. I thought Papa was picking me up.
You thought wrong. Be with you in a minute.
I went in to talk to #2’s art teacher. Though the boy is doing well, he still doesn’t think that all homework applies to him. When I got back to the car #1 told me that my “cool mom legacy” continues. Apparently his friends were amazed by our conversation. I replied that I didn’t even speak to them or do anything cool. I guess their conversations with their maternal units are more ~~stuffy~~ formal. I learned that all people don’t talk to their kids as if they were, well, people. That just made my day.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-07-08T08:40:00.003-07:00

I've seen this Wordless Wednesday thing on many blogs of late & have decided to be a shameless copycat. While hiking last week I realized, while looking back on the trail & all the hikers, that we looked like a bunch of ants. Unfortunately the picture didn't come out at all like what my eyes saw...so I played with it.

So much for wordless, eh?

The Intoxication of Bra Shopping

2009-07-01T10:29:00.001-07:00

Since I entered this little piece to a contest, DM is referred to as Joseph.

I woke up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning with a Mimosa under my nose. “Drink this, we’re going bra shopping.”
Bra shopping is no fun. Bra shopping when you are a 36 DDD is as entertaining as cleaning a public restroom with a toothbrush. After seventeen years of marriage, my husband Joseph has finally realized that the only way for me to go bra shopping is if I’m nicely potted.
“Drink up. There’s a door buster.”
A half hour later, I’m on the hunt, stumbling off to find my quarry. I was confident! I was empowered! I was sloshed. The bras in my cup size are generally located on the lowest racks since the weight of these babies apparently makes us hunch over anyway. I scooped up a half dozen while doing my Quasimodo, blearily apologizing to every rack I toppled on my way to the dressing room.
In that confined space, I realized that the temperature was ten degrees warmer than the rest of the store. Uncomfortable and sweating and I hadn’t tried anything on yet! After squeezing, shimmying, twisting and struggling into those contraptions, I felt like I’d been in a sauna. I tried out a sports bra and felt like I was all set for a mammogram. Removing it took five minutes and had me spinning like a break-dancer and bumping into the door causing the attendant to see if I needed help.
“Sssaalrite!” I replied as the bra finally broke free with a THWAP. She never came back.
My cell phone chirped and I dug it out of my pocket to discover Joseph had sent me pictures of several mannequins wearing bras that I couldn’t have worn after my first month of puberty. With a giggle, I fought my way into a pushup model that made me look like I was auditioning for a part in an opera, held out my phone, snapped a shot and sent it to him.
I immediately had the sort of second thoughts that freeze heart, soul and brain into a single icy column. What had I just done? Had I even sent it to the right number?
Choosing two bras more or less at random, I burst out of the stall, shoved them at Joseph and stumbled away without a look back. I’d lost five pounds of water weight along with untold brain cells. I lay on the wall outside the store. The clouds were so pretty, birds singing so cheerfully that I was thinking that maybe bra shopping wasn’t so bad after all. Then I fell off the wall…into the bushes…
Joseph appeared over me, cell phone in hand, and called me a silly drunk.

To hike or not to hike...

2009-06-29T11:21:00.004-07:00

I don’t want to pull on the reins! I love what I’m doing now & don’t want to slow down. It has taken so many years to become this active, to find something that really works for me…and now I have to pull back and reassess?!? WTF?!

Doc is amazing. I love her and am amazed and more grateful than I can express for her guidance and the progress I have made under her care. In the nearly 2 years that I’ve been her patient, I have made so much more progress than in the entire previous 20 years. My ankle has less pain & ever so much more mobility. I have lost 40+ pounds, quit smoking and discovered this gluten thing that has really alleviated the anxiety crap. I’m going hiking 3 times a week and doing (minimal) strength training. Because of the mobility issue, I can’t run and walking just doesn’t get my heart rate up enough anymore. Climbing mountains, tho is great exercise for me, the incline REALLY gets my heart rate going! Besides I love it. Being outside, the desert, time with my kids, doing something that I nearly thought I would never do again, all of it. I’m so happy that I’ve finally gotten this exercise routine down & it is going so well.
Today Doc tells me that I am at the point in my progress where I can progress further or set myself up for major injury, and that this is a very fine line. Intellectually I understand this, but what I’d really like to do is lay on the floor & scream & kick. She wants me to brainstorm, reassess and come up with a plan that will respect my ankle more. I know why she won’t tell me what to do. It will mean more to me to research and come up with my own plan. This is how I’m trying to raise my own kids…but DAMN it sucks…it is so much work!
When I was a little girl I couldn’t wait to grow up, be my own boss & get to do whatever I wanted. I hated having people tell me what to do.

MORON

This little demotivator really fits me.

But I won't let my craziness compromise my ankle.

I'm sssccccaaaarrrreeeddd?!

2009-06-24T15:06:00.001-07:00

What is my problem? I am the girl that, essentially, doesn’t give a crap what anyone thinks. I revel in my lunacy. I do something stupid & it is a cause for celebration.

But now, I’m having performance anxiety, stage fright, an all around case of the nerves!

Laurie Notaro is having an essay contest. Since I am the biggest idiot girl I know, I have to enter! The deadline is only a week away tho and what if what I enter sucks? Is a week long enough to produce a less than 450 word masterpiece? And whatever shall I write about?! Are any of my idiot girl escapades actually funny? Now there are people that say I’m funny and that I should write a book, but these are people like my mom or assorted others that I’ve paid to hang out with me.

Enough of the whining already! I will sit down & crank out a story. If it sucks, so be it. Hey! That could be an idiot girl story all by itself!

Wardrobe Malfunction or T.M.I.

2009-05-23T17:42:00.010-07:00

This is another of those "women's issues" posts. If you can't handle it, step away from the computer & I'll catch you later. I don't really blame you, I wouldn't want the scarring metal imagery either.

For those of you brave enough to hang in there, I'll pray for you...here goes.

Underwear isn't about who you are wearing it for, it is about how it makes you feel. Basic briefs are comfortable, but boring. Your grandma wears them and nothing about them makes you feel pretty, let alone sexy. When I wear them I feel frumpy and fat...I avoid them.

The hipster brief, especially when decorative, is better. Pretty, conservative but make you feel pretty. Then there are thongs and/or g-strings. I long thought that only sluts wore them. That the only reason one would wear them was if one was getting action, and then it would only be on ones body for the shortest amount of time possible. They would be incredibly uncomfortable, wouldn't they? Dental floss up your crack, you spend your life trying to get your underwear out of your crack, why would you want something to stay there, and all the other arguments come to mind.

I was wrong. I know that's hard to believe, but it is true. While I don't think I would wear them on a daily basis, the ones I have are, surprisingly, not uncomfortable. The magic is in how it makes me feel! I am sexy! Not in a flash the string, I need to get some now & I don't care who it is way, but a self confidence I am a W-O-M-A-N kind of way.

Now on to the incident. Yesterday was casual day at work. The jeans I was wearing were the at the hip kind and all the clean underwear I had would have overlapped...gross. Even if nobody saw it, I would know it was bunching up and overlapping, like putting too much batter in a muffin tin. So I found the g-string. It wouldn't overlap & would make me feel good...no problem! I wore it all day and the confidence boost was a good thing since I'd worn a shirt (that always made me feel pretty...before I lost weight) that was fine, but I felt completely frumpy. That shirt is going away this weekend. Every time I would see myself in the damn gold doors on the elevators and cringe at how eeewwww I looked, I would just smile & remember that I was wearing rockin undies.

After work DM wanted to go to the drive in with the minions to see "Night at the Museum" because the weather was so beautiful. It was fun, the movie was FANTASTIC, a good time was had by all. On one of the multiple potty excursions with the Princess, it happened. The pelvic floor of a woman who has had multiple children is an elusive thing. They say "just do Kegels, it will strengthen things right up." They are lying bastards and I hate them. They obviously are men and haven't ever squeezed something the size of a watermelon through an opening the size of a grape, and lived to tell about it. They don't have to worry about when they last used the facilities when out with their friends, because to laugh too hard could cause a little ole accident. They have never uttered the phrase "Stop making me laugh, I'm going to pee!" They have never had to make the decision to put on a pad or fore go the trampoline, when the kids are begging for a family jump. But I digress.

The Princess & I went in to the restroom, I sent her into her stall & then realized that it would be a good idea for me to avail myself of them as well. I entered the dingy, rickety stall (drive in bathrooms are worth a post all by themselves!) and as I began unbuttoning my jeans I realized the need was greater than I thought, so I started moving more quickly. I did the, hook the thumbs in the undies and pull everything down at once, move.

I got hung up!

The string, from the g, was entangled. In hair. It wouldn't budge. By this time my bladder could see the toilet. That is the place to let loose, thought the bladder, and it didn't care that I wanted to halt the action. I reached down, grabbed the offending string...and got a palm full of urine! That was not my intent!!! I yanked the g-string free and then reassured the Princess that it was okay, it's normal for Mommy to scream in the bathroom. Somehow the jeans were not soiled and I dried my tears and went to watch the rest of the movie.

So now we know that the g-string is not just an undergarment, it is a very effective depilatory as well.

To all the moms out there.

2009-05-10T15:03:00.009-07:00

I sincerely hope that all the moms out there had a fabulous Mother's Day.

Tho I do realize that the reality is probably a little hum drum. My first Mother's Day, 16 years ago, was a let down. I tried not to let it get to me since I'd been scarred by M'sDs in the past that had been less than scintillating for my mother. Now, as I look back, maybe we were ungrateful, but she was widowed mom & had no one to rally the fiends for a grand M'sD spectacle. Then when she married when I was 15, nothing (if anything) that we came up with was good enough. So based those experiences, I tried not to gear up for something wonderful. But I HAD just given birth. DM would have gone over the top for a wondrous day for me, right? Nuh uh. I really don't recall what occurred, so it couldn't have been terrible. The second year the expectations were even lower. I had a darling little 1 year old and had been doing the mommy thing all this time. A little r & r, a modicum of pampering would have been nice. No such luck. When I went to the mom's group at church the following Tuesday I was finally able to see M'sD for what it is...a marketing ploy by the greeting card industry, that has been designed to merely increase their revenues, which results in millions of moms getting their hopes up only to be hopelessly dashed by their husbands and children. All the moms (of various ages & income levels) in this group sat around complaining about what a horrible M'sD they had...for the entire time! It was a "my Mother's Day was suckier than yours" contest! It was then that I decided that the whole M'sD thing is sucky and to not let myself get hung up about it. The only problem is...I AM A GIRL. We forget the past pain and always wind up thinking that this year they will come through...nope. Doesn't happen. Two weeks before the day, I had gone to the gluten free bakery and picked up their flier for all the special Mother's Day yum-yums they were making. I showed it to DH and posted it on the fridge. About 3 days prior I sent DH the email from Cookies From Home, they now have a gluten free line that taste just like the originals. That and no/less fighting/yelling is all I really wanted.

The following was my day.

Woke up late, because DM was awake half the night & didn't set the alarm. Now, that is no problem for me, but we were taking his mom out, to church, eat and the cemetery. So we had to move quickly. This means that DM was exceedingly driven (not real bad, but irritating just the same). We got in the car, DM didn't want to drive since he's tired (see above) and his tummy hurt (he took his antibiotics with no food and there is a war in there). He tells #1 to drive, since he thought I didn't want to. I didn't, but would rather have a sharp stick inserted in my ocular cavity than have #1 drive with both Wawa (MIL) & DM in the vehicle. Imagine being an inexperienced driver carting around Nurse Ratched & Joan Crawford...that would be more fun. So I drive. We forgo church to visit the cemetery first (get it out of the way before it gets too hot) then to brunch (the antibiotic was tunneling it's way into his spleen). DM chose The Shout House. A dueling piano bar, think this, but in the daytime, with brunch.

What we actually got was this.

It wasn't bad, but it was a country-esque cover band. If anyone knows anything about me, they know that I am not a country music aficionado. There are some songs I enjoy, but the rest inspires anything from irritation to blind rage in me. The food was fine, but so much that I couldn't eat. I did speak with the head chef, but he really didn't have a clue about things gluten. So I was essentially on my own. They had an entire table of desserts. The lemon bars, carrot cake, chocolate bar thingys, etc. I sat at in my seat with the view above and had a heated debate with myself.

Self: Maybe I should just forget it and eat a lemon bar.

Me: No, I don't want to be crazy.

Self: We're always crazy, what is more so?

Me: Crazy in a "good" way is fine, racing, panic, muddleheaded, Tasmanian Devil in my chest is bad. And no muddleheaded cracks out of you!

Self: I'm just saying... We probably got accidentally glutened anyway what with cross contamination in the sponge eggs cause they were next to the ones with chorizo and people used the same big spoon for both.

Me: I was careful, used my own spoon and everything! I'll be okay...I hope. Damn those lemon bars look good.

Self: How long has it been since you've had one, hhhhmmmmm? Too long, and they are delicious. The one at the back of the table is calling your name, I can hear it. Oh look! It's waving it's powdered sugar at you! Please, pick me...I was made for you...I won't hurt you...much.

Me: No! I can do this. Nothing tastes as good as not being crazy feels! Shut up self, I'm not listening to you.

Self: Ttthhhhhppppbbbbtttt!

The rest of the day was much the same. The kids were very sweet, but bickered and poked at each other like always. DM went in spurts of extra driven-ness. Took out Wawa for dinner after church, with results much the same as the brunch.

Afterward I went to Baskin Robbins, by MYSELF, as I had already gotten to watch them eat delicious ice cream that I wasn't sure was safe for me to eat and was NOT about to share...or listen to the begging. I treated myself to "God's ice cream", the finest ice cream known to man. I might still be glutening myself if this contained it. Peanut butter & Chocolate ice cream...perfection.

So...all's well that ends well...or some such.

I'm already planning M'sD for next year. Something involving just moms, no husbands, no kids. Along the lines of a pedicure, lunch and movie fest. It has possibilities and I have a year to prepare them.

Upon going to bed I did realize that there are so many amazing/special/fabulous moments, every single day, being a mom that trying to orchestrate an event is bound to backfire.

I hope yours was fantastic...or at least that you didn't cry (I didn't BTW).

Gag me with a science project

2009-04-30T21:28:00.003-07:00

My boys go to a fabulous school. #1 is in 10th grade and taking physics. He has a project to do, build a Rube Goldberg machine. Here is a picture of one:

What they are planning is along the lines of the photo, but with 2 bowling balls and fireworks...I kid you not. Neat project, eh? In theory yes. The reality is more along the lines of shoving a red hot poker into one's eye socket. The biggest problem is that he isn't doing this on his own, he is teamed up with 2 other whack-job 16 year old boys! We have affectionately dubbed them the Squirrel Twins. On their own, they are probably marvelous, intelligent guys; together they have the combined IQ of a brussel sprout. They haven't done the physics involved, they have come up with the idea and then want to go buy the supplies. We went to the home of ST1, I went along because his mother wasn't home, so I had to "supervise", ST2 came over and they began planning...while playing Guitar Hero! I like loud music, but my fillings were jarring loose. I just sat and read my book. While ST1 is telling me that they can build anything with wood we want, he has the tools...no problem...his mother comes home. She wasn't aware that people were coming over and apparently the little darling wasn't supposed to be playing video games...oops. She removed the gate from the stairs & heaved it across the room while shrieking for ST1 to GETINHISROOMNOW! #1 shrunk to about the size of an armadillo, whispered to me "I told him to tell his mom.", and asked if we should flee now. We got the rest planned and fled.

We went to the handyman's hideout and I asked if someone could help us. A nice man named Alan did and began asking incredibly complicated questions like; what is it supposed to do, how big is it going to be, and (worst of all) with what are you going to make it. Turns out these Einsteins haven't...even...done...the...physics! #1's response to my asking if they had done ANY calculations was, "oh, we're going to try it & if it doesn't work, we"ll try something else." It is due on Monday. I'm walking this very fine line between helping him and letting him do it. ST1 really doesn't seem very reliable, so I tentatively set up a rendezvous with my dad to do the construction.

Will I ever survive my kids' education?

What Makes Me Smile

2009-04-29T11:55:00.004-07:00

So I've been surfing around checking out new blogs. I've read things that made me almost spit tea on my keybord, things that bored me to tears, and things that actually made me have real tears, they were so touching. A couple times I saw lists of things that annoy the author. While I'm all for making a list of annoyances, there are really untold opportunities to get peeved every day, I thought I'd go against the grain (who me?!) and list what makes me smile.

I got this photo from someone at work. It was in a chain with a bunch of other interesting/silly/amazing photos. I set this as the wallpaper on my computer. Everytime I see him I smile. I do realize that it is most probably photoshopped, but admitting that is like admitting the Easter Bunny is real. It pains me. Either way...I wish I had taken and/or photoshopped this picture.

My dad's doppelganger

2009-04-28T11:01:00.002-07:00

My dad is remarried. His wife is wonderful, so good for him and we love her. But, like with most newly weds, we don't see them with any kind of regularity. When I heard about the nursing home killer, and that he looked like my dad, I had to check it out. This is the man...and, yes, he does look an awful lot like my dad...when his hair & beard are untrimmed...without the red.

I just found out that I don't have a picture of dad on my work p'uter. I'll have to add to this later.

I MADE MY OWN BACKGROUND!

2009-04-23T09:27:00.004-07:00

It may not be much to you, but I made my own background. The creating of it wasn't difficult, I just used a cool freebie kit made by Nicole Young at DSP. I highly reccomend them, lots of incredibly talented people there. The biggest problem was sizing the stinking thing so that it would fit correctly on the screen. Now it is done, I'm happy...until I can find enough time to make my own elements...that will come...some day.

For now, here is a picture I wanted to share:

I received this in an email...from whom, I don't know. I just know that I would love to have a tree like this!

Beautiful.

Light Grocery Store Reading

2009-04-13T20:50:00.001-07:00

DM wanted to go to Sprouts early Saturday morning for their Easter egg hunt. Why this was important, I'm really not sure. The best part about it was the weather. Cold, grey and rainy...perfect weather for only one day! The hunt for kids ages 0-5 was to start at 7:45. AM. Yes, the morning. Even though we only live about 10 minutes away we had to get up at 6:15 to get ready.
Why, you ask? Because Driven Man was driving this bus. One wouldn't want to be *gasp* late for an egg hunt at Sprouts! The world as we know it would come to a screeching halt. Dogs and cats would begin living together...total anarchy would ensue. The Princess was awakened and of course she was interested, she's 5, a girl and, well, all her brain cells are not yet fully formed. If she were 40 and had this mental capacity she would be referred to as retarded. I was commanded to go since this was a "bonding experience" for the Princess and her parents.

I am evil, I know, I just couldn't walk out of the house and leave my minions sleeping. 3 blissfully slumbering boys in a nice warm house while I have to be up and attempt to be cheerful? JUST PLAIN WRONG. I asked the Princess if she wanted her brothers to go. She seemed hesitant, but said she wanted one. I burst into their room asking for a brother representative. After the moaning and writhing ceased, #1 said he would do it. I was shocked really, it wasn't that difficult to convince him...so much for my fun. We picked up Wawa...why? Because nothing says Forced Family Fun like pre-dawn grocery shopping with Grandma!
We arrived at Sprouts, which is probably my favorite store right now, around 7:25. There were almost no cars in the lot. DM didn't know if the hunt was inside or outside, maybe they cancelled it because of the weather! I said (stupidly) "There are people inside". You say it, you check it, is the DM motto. I got out of the car, because apparently I don't have many more functioning brain cells than the Princess. There was a cute blonde cashier dressed as a bunny and they were putting up balloons and placing plastic eggs all over the store. IN PLAIN VIEW! There was really no attempt made to actually hide the eggs. I returned to the car with the recon report and Wawa, the Princess and #1 got out. We STOOD IN FRONT OF THE STORE waiting for it to open. While waiting in line, freezing my tuckus off, I realized we were missing someone...a particularly vital someone...the sumbich who was responsible for all of us being there! DM was in the car getting himself a little ole beauty nap. I glided over to the van (stormed), sweetly asked (growled) what he was doing, and asked kindly (demanded) that he join us (get his ass out of the car). A pregnant woman with a 3 year old spotted us & GOT IN LINE! The manager (in the background of the photo) poked his head out the door and said they will be opening in a few minutes. More "customers" arrived to wait in line behind us. Think Grapes of Wrath meets Black Friday. Boy were we a motley crew.
When they finally opened the doors, we were informed that the kids should only take 5 eggs each, so there would be plenty for everyone. It took the Princess all of 30 seconds to get her eggs and then put enough back so she only had 5.

The best part of the whole event was looking up and seeing #1 reading the Communist Manifesto. The irony was lost on him. If you look closely at the picture, you can read the title...I couldn't make this stuff up!

Photo Challenge

2009-04-11T11:10:00.002-07:00

So I saw this photo challenge on Toni's blog. http://scrapphappy.blogspot.com/ I love her muchly & miss her just as much.
Unfortunately, the sixth picture in the sixth folder on my computer is just the compeletly sweet, standard Christmas picture. Every year on Christmas we take a picture with Wawa, by the Creche. Hey I could scrapbook those! Yeah right, when my kids are gone & I've caught up on my sleep. One special thing we do is put hay in around the Baby Jesus, to keep him warm. I think the Princess is holding some in her hand.

The Offending Pustule

2009-04-06T19:57:00.000-07:00

#2 had a dermatology appointment. He's supposed to go every year...it had been more than that...much, muuuuuch more than that. DM took him as I was in the midst of one of my grueling 11 hour work days.

I got a text from the boy, "they put a needle in my nose."

See, he had had a...pimple, zit, growth, protrusion...whatever. It had been on the side of his nose for nearly a month. I thought it was going to burst and spiders would come crawling out of it a la "The Believers" . He had squeezed it a couple times and the substance that erupted from it was neither puss nor blood but an evil combination of the two.

The quack said, "That is no zit...it's an infection." Hence the needle in the nose.
He texted me again saying, "they hurt me." My poor baby. After a rousing course of antibiotics, he is clear complected once more.

The Track Meet

2009-04-06T17:52:00.000-07:00

So, I insisted on bringing all the kids to #1's track meet on Saturday. It was at my alma mater-ish. While it is not the school I graduated from, it is the school that I claim.

One year as the invisible girl at Alhambra, does not an alumni make...to my way of thinking anyway.

So Bourgade is "my" highschool. I may have been back there once or twice since graduation and have successfully avoided any reunions in the last century, but being there with my princess was really cool...in a nostalgic, angst filled, neck ruffling way. I think the reason I was finally ready to enjoy being back is because I've finally grown into myself. I'm no longer the dorky, shy, insecure teenager. I'm the dorky self-assured old lady. I really like this stage sooooo much better. I enjoy, even revel in the weirdness that is me. I like who I am and really don't care what others think. Now this doesn't mean I'll go to the store unshowered and bra-less...I might kill someone! But if I don't look perfect, it really is okay. I am not my appearance, tho' I still do, occasionally, shave my legs and consistently wear a minimal amount of makeup.

It was fun showing the princess where Papa & Mama met and, unlike the boys, she thought it was neat.

Maybe I'll go back, before another hundred years passes.

Flipping Gluten Allergy/Intolerance...whatever!

2009-04-04T14:23:00.002-07:00

So I have this awesome chiropractor. She has helped me so much in the past couple years I can't even begin to articulate it.

After the princess was born & I was so sick, I also developed an anxiety disorder...apparently not uncommon with cardio problems. So, for the past almost 6 years I've dealt with this amazingly annoying condition. I finally discovered that when my life is actually super stressful I do okay, but let things mellow out a little bit, the anxiety rears it's ugly head. When Doc & I talked about it, we came to the conclusion/assumption that I'm sort of an adrenaline/stress addict and when it is removed my body doesn't know what to do. I thought it was a good theory, but what do I do about it? At that point she suggested an elimination diet...removing wheat, dairy, sugar. I thought about it for a while, because that is a daunting task.

I started realising that I had been having digestive issues, for a while now. Bound up and abdominal discomfort quite frequently in the past year. The more water I drank & exercise I got, the worse the problem...it's really not supposed to work like that! The whole elimination diet kept ruminating around in my brain while I was busy doing other things.

About a month ago, out of the blue, I decided to eliminate wheat and see what happened. Tuesday was the day I began refraining from the offending grain. Wednesday I was going REALLY fast. Almost like an anxiety attack, but different. I couldn't turn my brain off and was extraordinarily manic. I started thinking that the crazy psycho doc I'd been to, who thought I was bi-polar, might be right. Thursday I felt better but my muscles started twitching periodically & I didn't know what was going on. When I saw Doc I told her I was feeling weird and she asked what changed. I told her about eliminating wheat and she asked how I'd felt the day before and proceeded to tell my symptoms I was having and said I was allergic to wheat. Very strange.

It really hasn't been hard for me to stay away from it, mentally I don't miss it that much at all. Now when there are big cookies at work or a nice loaf of crusty bread for dinner, I go, aaaawwwwwww. Most of the time though, I'm fine.

Last week DM made meatloaf for dinner. When I asked what he put in it, he said just seasoning. That night I couldn't get to sleep, just couldn't turn my brain off. The next day I was psycho manic girl again. When I got home I asked DM if he had put bread crumbs in the meatloaf, he apologized & said yes, but he had forgotten. It was nice to have the confirmation that I do have a problem with wheat.

Today #1 has a track meet. While at the meet I got a cheese burger, no bun. I sort of felt like a loser, but oh well...when has THAT ever stopped me? The princess had nachos and I ate a few of them. Corn is okay right?! Approximately 45 minutes later I started feeling weird. Going fast, shaky, etc. I started wondering about the cheese sauce for the nachos, but tried to blow it off. As more time passed and I was feeling worse, I went to the snack bar, dug the nacho can out of the garbage, wiped the coffee grounds off and read the label. It has modified food starch and natural flavor in it...both can be hidden wheat.

It pisses me off, but again, it is good to have the confirmation that I really do need to stay away from gluten...in a big way.

This has probably taken me twice as long to type as it should since my hands are shaking and not behaving like they should.

Hippiefied White Trash Door

2009-03-10T21:57:00.003-07:00

So...came home to #3 still not having finished back homework and having lied to me last night...long story, not worth it.

Needless to say I was in a right foul mood. DM barked at kids and I told him that I was the only one allowed to be angry...he complied!

#2 had inadvertently started to shut the bathroom door & DM tried to go on a tirade about the inconceivability of being unable to remember to NOT shut the door when one needs to use the facilities. (Spend 13 years teaching a kid to shut the door then get mad when he does it automatically...go figure.) He stopped himself tho, so he was allowed to live...for the night.

When next I passed the bathroom, this is what I saw:

Yes, we are hippies. We have a curtain for a bathroom door. Now the curtain is a very patriotic print which would make one think it is an oxymoron...pretty appropriate for me dontcha think?

Here is the princess showing off the Patriotic Hippiefied Art Deco White Trash bathroom door:

She thinks it is pretty cool. If I weren't annoyed about the whole situation...and well...5...I would too.

I'm waiting to see how the snake oil LN works and how quickly the situation is rectified before committing moronicide.

I think Monday would be a good day for a funeral.

The Art Deco White Trash Door

2009-03-09T21:23:00.004-07:00

It is official...I am white trash. I tried to ignore it, but it is inescapable...I now have photographic evidence and am so fed up that I'm not even embarrassed to publish it. It does help that no one reads this anyway, except my closest friends, those that truly love me, know I'm white trash & can look beyond it to my insanity. All the rest of you can just f off.

First off a few disclaimers.

Once again I saw the date of my last post, shrieked and stammered about how long it has been since I posted. Then I moved on. Busy job, busy life, yadda, yadda.

I want it to be known that I have at least been THINKING about new posts. Things such as the variances of stench, the fact that I have no fear when it comes to my employment & the things I will say to people in positions of power, and pre-teen boys who refuse to remain fully clothed.

While I usually try to refrain from disparaging my husband, this must be posted! Things are going ever so much better with us, really and truly and that is the only reason I'm putting this on here. I love him immensely, but the idiocy astounds me.

For the past two years, yes 2!, I have been working during the day and he has been at home. He has been working nights, has a mother that expects him to be at her beck & call and carts children around from school. That being said, he does less around the house, on a daily basis, than I ever did. Do I complain? Not often. Do I nag him? Not really, unless when we are fighting counts. I do understand how hard it is and that he has to sleep sometime.

We live in a postage stamp. You are thinking that this is a metaphor for a small house, reality is closer to the truth. Our house, with the Arizona room closed in, is 900 sf. THERE ARE SIX OF US HERE!!!!! Two bedrooms & one, count it 1 bathroom!!!!!!! Our house was built in the mid '50's, things are falling apart. Does DM fix them? Oh noooooooooooo. He ignores them until they break completely and then blames the kids for being too rough. See, if they wouldn't screw around things wouldn't break.

YYYYYYEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH.

A couple months ago I realized that the hinges to our only bathroom door were loose. I mentioned it and he said he would get to it. About a month ago while one of the boys was going to get in the shower, they were chasing each other and the top hinges started stripping out of the door. DM began yelling at the boys that they were treating objects like women & to cut it the f out. I gently pointed out (snort) that screws fall out all the time, the world's an imperfect place. You know, 6 people, ancient postage stamp, etc. but he would have none of it. I said, fix it or it will totally break. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Fast forward to this evening.

#1 goes to take a dump (he insisted on that edit!). Next thing I know, he's calling me. Says I need to come, that we have a situation. I go looking for the plunger. Not that kind of situation. The top screws have finally stripped all the way out. The door is hanging like a baby tooth in the mouth of a woosie 7 year old. I tell DM that it has finally happened. The response I got made laser beams shoot out my eyes. He shrugged (YES ACTUALLY SHRUGGED!) and said, guess we don't have a bathroom door. While attempting to channel River Tam I choked out "I...t o l d...y o u...t o...g e t...i t...f i x e d." He barked out "I can't do it at 8:00 at night when I have to leave for work in an hour!"

I left the room, located a screwdriver and began removing the bottom screws. One wouldn't come out. I had #1 try, he couldn't get it. I had DM try so that we wouldn't be blamed if the screw got ruined. Muttering under his breath (he really has come so far) he tries to removes said screw...no dice. He goes to find the "liquid nails". This is a substance that has replaced the old time snake oil. IT DOESN'T DO JACK! DM shoots the LN into the door, in the mistaken belief that it will hold. He really is a true believer, now you can see why I don't let him near tent revivals. He now wants to find something to prop the door up to it's actual height. That turned out to be a comedy of errors all by itself.

Who found a book the right size?

Any guesses?

Yep! Me!

Not to mention the fact that while all of this is going on, the princess is showering and yelling for me to help her with the next stage. Climaxing with a near five minute chant of "MOMI'MDONEMOMI'MDONEMOMI'MDONE!"

After the door is snake oiled, literarily propped and has a stool leaning against it, DM decides that more is needed. The following pictures are his solution.

This is some kind of blue paper/electric tape...doesn't even use REAL duct tape. Gotta hold it in the right position, dontcha know.

While he was doing the tape job, I suggested, oh so helpfully, that he tape the other side of the door to the wall, as a reminder to people not to shut it.

View inside the bathroom.

There you have it, we've sunk to a new low, or I've finally come out of the bathroom, as it were. Wonder how long a proper fix will take? If it has to be after the funeral...so be it.

The sadness

2008-12-31T15:11:00.000-07:00

Snapfish:Photo:Owned

We went to ride the lightrail on opening day. We headed out to Christown...I know it has a different name, I just don't know what it is! That being the begining of the lightrail line. They were having quite the festival. Food booths, a stage with men singing old songs, general carnival like atmosphere. Katie was so excited to ride. When we approached the line, it was more like Disneyland than a carnival. There was a two and a half hour wait to ride the stinking thing!!!!!!

Merry Christmas 2008!!!

2008-12-24T12:25:00.002-07:00

Yes, it has been a long time.

Not long after my last post, my home life, which had been progressively becoming less satisfying, abruptly (after some drastic action on my part) took a turn for the better. Try a 180. I just about got whiplash! Actually not whiplash but a massive case of anxiety. Here I was with harmony in my home for the first time in...wellll...years, a job I like, fantastic kids and constant anxiety attacks! I really wasn't fair. One would think that the AA would happen when things are bad right? Oh, no. Not me! But then ask Dr. Moore (my pediatrician when I was a little girl) I've always been weird.

I was muddling through work, barely. Easy tasks, such as filing, were beginning to confound me. The old brain just shut down. I was able to avoid turning into crazy, angry lady again, tho' it was a near thing near the end there. The problem was that my psycho nurse switched practices and the MD type I see has NO CLUE about psycho meds. I eventually wound up taking a week off to find a new psycho and get on new meds. My mother asked how I planned to get in to a new psycho in only a week. My response was because I willed it so.

I spent all Monday on the phone and was beginning to despair. Tuesday the kids were off school, so we went and played...that my friends is better than all the psychos in the universe. While on our tri-city playing tour I got a call that one of the psychos could see me Thursday! Yippee!!!!!

I went to see her...she really wanted to diagnose me as bi-polar. I've been through that with the first psycho...I'm SOOOOOOO not bi-polar. But I really don't care what she wants to call me, as long as she gives me drugs that work. She did, I am taking them & am back to normal...well form me anyway...which is pretty f-ing weird in the first place.

The next week, when I got back to work, I had an appointment with my supervisor. No big deal, she is cool, but it was a little curious, since I'd been languishing on the job for quite some time. And, you know, recession and all, yadda yadda. I meet with her at the appointed time, she asks how I am then asks if I want the desktop publishing position. DOES THE POPE SHIT IN THE WOODS? IS A BEAR CATHOLIC?

I had been mentioning for the past year that I wanted that position. When I say mentioning, I mean bugging, nagging, telling everyone that would listen that I wanted it. I made sure to bring it up to the powers that be as often as possible...FOR A YEAR. I guess they were finally fed up with the lady that had taken it over and were willing to give me a shot. The plan was to start training that Thursday...this was Monday, remember.

Tuesday, when I got in to work, I had frantic e-mails & voice mails from my supervisor. There was a desktop emergency (doesn't that bring to mind files on fire or rodents and insects scurrying all over the place? WTH is a desktop emergency anyway?) and the other lady wasn't in. She asked if I would be willing to jump in and take care of it. See above re: the Pope & the bear. I did, I found a document that no one could tell the locations for, made edits to said document in a program that I had never even heard of before and got it sent back to the requester in record time. From that moment on I was the new desktop person...the other lady found out...the next day...when she came back in.

I love my job!!!! I get paid to play with pictures all day long. I get paid to teach myself really groovy new software programs. I almost feel guilty about taking money for it...almost. I'm feeling an awful lot like Br'er Rabbit...I finally got thrown into my briar patch!

Merry Christmas!

My life on public transit

2008-09-30T16:19:00.005-07:00

So...since the beginning of summer I have been mostly taking the bus to work. And as strange as you all know I am, I really enjoy it. I know. I'm sick. There is something wrong with me that a nice lobotomy would probably take care of.

Reasons I like the bus:

I get my exercise by walking to and from the bus.
During the monsoon I got to walk in all kinds of wild weather conditions. I never did get rained on tho' darnnit.
Now that the kids are back in school I get to play with them on the bus for a short time.
Lots of photo opportunities! (See my Facebook bus album)
I put my makeup on while riding. This is ever so much safer than putting makeup on while driving.
I plug in to my Pod and read a book. Not a bad way to spend 30-45 minutes.
All the new friends I get to meet!
Retarded Monkey Spandex Man...whose name is Richard I found out today.
Lots of photo opportunities!
So many stories.
So many sights.
So many smells.
The lack of monotony. In the car it is just me. On the bus I get to see different things all the time.
Public transit is a veritable socioeconomic melting pot. You have the rich & poor all together in an uncomfortable, cramped, noisy space.
Getting up close and personal with my fellow man (sometimes WAY TOO up close).
Constant opportunities to laugh. Just the other day a very large woman of color got on the bus with what appeared to be about 2 dozen bags hanging off her arms. She was a plastic sack tree. She did not appear to be homeless, but damn she had a lot of bags. She was wearing a pretty lavender shirt that was 2 sizes too small. It did not come down anywhere approaching her waistband. She didn't have a waist...she had a belly. Her belly dunlapped over her belt. I was frightened. I still have a belly albeit a much smaller one. I have the good sense to keep it covered up!

Anyway, you get the idea. The whole thing just cracks me up. There is something funny every single day. I love walking from the the bus into my office in the morning. For some reason that jaunt from Van Buren to Washington, while listening to my tunes, just makes me so happy. Sometimes I want to barf because I feel like Mary Tyler Moore. If I had a hat I would throw it.

Sad, but true. Up next...Unintentional Exercise or Bus Misadventures

Freaks in Downtown Phoenix

2008-09-16T14:39:00.010-07:00

When last we met the junior freaks and their fearless leader got to leave "Take Your Child to Work Day" early.

What to do? Go home two hours early to a grumpy man? Absolutely not! We went on a walking tour of Downtown Phoenix.

First there was lunch. Now, there are many interesting sights and sounds downtown that give it its own distinct flavor. One major attraction is Angry Preacher Guy (whose name, I've been told is Robert).

Nearly every afternoon, for a couple hours, this guy is on his corner, screaming about the wages of sin and the wrath of JE sus. This photo is about as friendly looking as the man gets. I've been wanting to take his picture for quite some time, but didn't have the guts. The boys & I had gone to Starbucks, which is across the street from his perch. No! I did not take the photo blatantly. I had #1 pose, acted like I was taking his pic. & just zoomed to get this shot. Aren't I sneaky? Or stupid, whatever.

We also watched construction:

Then #3 posed in front of the naked man statue:

Please note the hand placement. It was actually unintentional, tho does keep my blog rated PG.

We then decided to walk over to the Herberger Theater. Well, actually, I decided, but that is the joy of being the Fearless Freak Leader, isn't it?

The Herberger has many statues in front of it. Dancing statues. Naked, dancing statues. Are you sensing a theme? I have always wanted to dance with the naked statues. So we did. Here is the evidence:

It was so very, very much fun. This last picture was the only pose #2 would do. The other two participated marvelously...especially #3.

From there we went over to the Arizona Center. Whilst #2 went in Hooter's (at least they aren't naked) to use the restroom, the other boys had a lunch bag fight.

I love the way people watch us when we do these things. It is such fun being a freak. I highly recommend it!

After milling around the Arizona Center for a while, we decided to take the trek home. Well, we took the bus home, but you got that didn't you?

It was a hot day...very, very hot...surface of the sun hot. We waited in the sun at the bus stop, despairing of ever being cool again. When it finally arrived there was much rejoicing!

The bus didn't have air conditioning!

Freaks on the loose part deaux

2008-08-11T15:41:00.009-07:00

When last we left off, the freakish darlings & I had arrived at "take your child to work day". We went in, got situated & #2 dove head first into the donuts & apple juice. I left him & #3 to their feeding frenzy and brought #1 with me to my desk & introduce him around. I learned a few things from this:

"The Pants with Nobody Inside Them" has left massive emotional scars on the boy,
you don't introduce your teenager by your adorable nickname for him
when introducing him to lots of different people, change the script periodically...apparently I said the same thing to everyone...or be subjected to merciless mocking.

We went back with the group in time to learn what is done in a law firm and then they heard the story of "The People vs. Joey Wolfcrier". This was a mock-trial that the kids got to put on. They received their rolls and split up. While the "actors" were learning their parts, the "jury" was being prepped.

After prep, the trial began. #2 was a witness for the prosecution, the blacksmith. He really didn't like Joey Wolfcrier. My bff's dd was the defense attorney, these are her shoes. I was sitting on the floor taking pictures, so got to watch her feet under the table...cracked me up. I know I'm strange...I don't fight it anymore.

This is our courtroom:Which bff disrupted so the Judge could bang her gavel. None of the kids really knew what she was doing tho...#2 just thought she was being a moron.

The jury went to deliberate, when they returned it was a hung jury. All but one of them thought Joey was innocent. The lone guilty vote was none other than my #3.

Afterward, we did crafts. Here are the results:

After the crafts, we didn't have anything else to do, so got to go home early.

Up next: Freaks on the loose in downtown Phoenix!

Freaks on the loose!

2008-08-07T14:04:00.006-07:00

Yesterday was "Take Your Child to Work Day" at my firm. That being the case I was spared the agony of the root-growing experiment and instead got to hang out with the little darlings all day.

The morning began well. #3, who is his mother's child and does a fabulous "bear in deep winter" impersonation, bounded out of bed shortly after 6 a.m., followed by #2 who had slept on the couch...in his clothes. #1 had to be coaxed from his slumber but was pleasant...until...he remember we were taking the dreaded bus to work!!!!!! This strapping, 15 year old, football playing, young man began whining like a two year old at nap time.

Pleasemompleasepleasepleasedon'ttakethebusthecarisgoodIreallywanttotakethecarIhatethebusthebussuckspleasepleasepleasedon'tmakeme!

Ad nauseaum.

We took the bus. (insert evil grin here)

While on our walk #1 continued his diatribe until threatened with being left home...apparently being left out is a fate worse than the bus.

Here is a picture of me, tho, it doesn't show what I am doing...putting on my makeup. Yes, I sit on a bus bench, on one of the most congested streets in the city, and do my face...I am a looser...what can I say.

This next image, is part of the scenery of the bus stop...petrified chicken bones! They have been there for the past week...maybe they are from the Petrified Forest! I could charge admission!

The bus we took was more crowded than usual, we stopped for 3...count them...3 people in wheelchairs. This was a personal record for my bus riding experience. My boys are so good, they got up voluntarily so that older/female people could sit...which left them hanging on me! At least their germs & smells are familiar. I took some pictures...here are a couple of "bus friends" that my guys gave up their seats for:

#2 was lucky that he finally stood up. The bearded man in the photo was chatting up the guy next to him...it could have been #2 trapped there, instead he was draped across my shoulder like a cat on lithium. When we were finally released from the bus, we went to my office, where the fun began!

I will finish this in two more parts (Gotta do some work!!!! Check me out...I can barely contain myself!!!)

Quiet Desks

2008-08-05T09:51:00.002-07:00

They do afford me the time to post here. Something I love to do, but, other than that they are exceedingly annoying. The beauty of being a team secretary is that I don't really have "responsibility". That falls to the regular secretary. The ugly is sitting in a chair attempting to look busy.

I'm not a work-a-holic (stop, just pick yourself back up and keep reading) but I'm getting paid an exorbitant amount of money to hold a chair down, print emails, answer the phone the 1.2 times it rings and the attorney-du-jour can't answer it, and monitor the secretary's email so she doesn't come back to too many firm bulletins and Viagra adds. I think team secretary is just code for an insidious experiment to ascertain the time it takes for roots to form between my ass and the chair and how many times I can bang my head against a keyboard without getting irreparable brain damage.

The last assignment I had lasted over a month and they actually gave me work to do. I didn't have time to blog, let alone much of anything else. In that time there was no moss growing down south, let alone roots. I loved it. They actually acknowledged that I had a brain, and let me use it. Now, 4 working days later, I feel like retarded monkey spandex man could do my job. I feel like a fraud. I am wasting my life for money, when I could be actually raising my children. I would pay to be home with them. I'm coming up with creative time wasters for probably more money than teachers, policemen, firemen, etc. make. I don't know that for sure, but damn I make too much for days like today. This is wrong

Going to lunch before I depress everyone more. Bleh.

The Grossest Mom Ever!!!

2008-06-16T12:15:00.004-07:00

Or: How to Snap Your Kids Out of a Bad Attitude.

So, we actually went camping for a little while this weekend. We left home at noon on Saturday and left the campsite about the same time Sunday. Was it worth it you ask? Oh my yes!!! I love the drive and the desert was absolutely beautiful. It was cool up there (it is becoming sweltering in the valley) and the air smells so good.

While breaking camp yesterday I had planned to go to Ryan's Ranch to play before making the drive back down the mountain. My children had other ideas. #2 decided that he wantedtogohomerightnow and got the princess in the car and asked her to get her seat belt on. The princess is adverse to taking direction from anyone, most especially #2. I'm not sure why this is, he is the sweetest and most mellow of my boys, but that is neither here nor there. The wailing ensued. There was touching and crying and "justgetyourseatbelton!" and wailing and hitting and "#2hurtme!!!" and wailing and wailing. I finally got #2 out of the car, calmed him down and told him he could sit in the front seat with me. I told the princess to straighten up and to not be such a....brat, yeah, that's the word...brat. I decided that we would just go home instead of Ryan's Ranch. I moved #3 next to the princess and he began grumbling to her, she got louder in her protests until I hear "HEWONTLEAVEMEALONE!!!!" I glanced back to see #3 slowly slide one finger onto her car seat. As the tormentor of younger siblings myself, I can understand the perverse pleasure in such an action. Now a mother myself, and the operator of a ton of metal, I can understand why my mom would do her Linda Blair impression in such circumstances.

As the darlings whipped themselves into a frenzy, I tell #3 that he'd better stop annoying the princess. His reply? "She's just a stupid girl!" To which I, oh soooo maturely state, "Well you're a stupid boy." His eyes narrowed and he growled "You're a stupid mom."

In case you are worried...I did not beat him to death. I would have liked to, but I refrained.

I did, however, pulled off the highway onto the first dirt road I could find. Stopped the car, hauled his butt out and plopped him down on a rock. I stood there glaring at him while the cars whipped by, silently contemplating the advisability of a beating in full view of traffic. I decided that discretion was the better part of parenting and tried talking to him. We talked and hugged and got back in and started moving down the road. I was musing to myself about how miserable the trip home would be if everyone stayed as irritable as they were, when we passed a dead elk on the side of the road.

At the nearest turn off to said elk, I pulled in, told everyone to get out of the car to check out the carcass. Some were interested, some not so much, but trudging down the road we went. About 200 yards later we came upon the desiccated elk. It obviously had been hit on the right flank and then chewed upon, the entire chest and abdomen, though, had not been touched. That spot on its spine was munched, as well as the flesh removed from its lower jaw. Other than that it was largely intact. The kids didn't want to get close to it (which is a really good thing). I did happen to lean over and get a good look at the fact that it was missing an eyeball! It was completely gross. We took a bunch of pictures and finally left.

Every one's attitude was much improved after our little field trip.

Let's hear it for the power of roadkill!!!!!

Death by Pie

2008-05-29T15:44:00.004-07:00

I gained a pound this week.

It was Memorial Weekend. We went out of town. I did well until around Sunday afternoon and just slapped on the feed bag.

My final downfall was MIL wanting to go to Village Inn after I picked her up on Tuesday evening. I went in fully intending to not order anything for myself and having a bite or two from what the kids got. When I walked in the door there was a pie in the display case that immediately started calling to me. A Hawaiian strawberry pie.

I tried to ignore it...it just got louder. While I was helping the kids decide what to get, that darn pie came up and tapped me on the shoulder! I kept arguing that I didn't really want it but it was so persistent! The final blow was when Katie wanted to go to the display case to see what she could get. There it was, shining and beautiful, an ethereal glow around it.

All Katie wanted was plain cheesecake,

it looked like dog food next to the Hawaiian. I kept trying to resist...then the waiter came to take our order. I caved. It was so good. I did only eat half of it. I kind of felt yucky afterward, but it was tasty.

Now, tell me, which would you have chosen? Hhhhhhmmmmmm?!

I’M NOT A CRIPPLE!!!!

2008-05-09T15:45:00.001-07:00

For the past few days I have been wearing my old boot on my sore foot. You know, the big old orthopedic boot that has a 2” high lift that is rounded, so you feel like you are walking on a boot? The one that you wrap a padded cushion around your leg so that your leg sweats profusely. The thing that you Velcro yourself into with enough strap to make it seem a bit kinky. The one that you can tuck a flask inside, thus enabling you to drink your booze at the concert? (Was that last one out loud?)

Anyhoo. I hate wearing the boot. It isn’t fun, tho it does seem to be helping. I decided not to wear it today, to see how it would do. Before lunch I put it back on. But I finally realized why I don’t want to wear it.

I’M NOT A CRIPPLE!!!!

When I wear it I look like a cripple.

I walk like a cripple: If I’m not careful I will slam the ankle of my good foot on the hard plastic edge of the boot. This is not comfy and especially attractive when blood runs down my leg. So I have to sort of swing the good leg out to avoid doing this. Hey! If I bend over I could look like Quasimodo!.

I sound like a cripple: Step……thunk. Step…..thunk. Step….thunk.

I’M NOT A FREAKING CRIPPLE. I can do anything I want to, with the exception of run very far or fast. But who wants to run anyway?

Just when I think I’m a failure as a mother

2008-05-09T12:17:00.002-07:00

I've been running like crazy hauling people to and from activities and feel like my kids are being raised by wolves lately.

On the way home from football practice last night #3 and I were by ourselves. I told him of a situation at work with a guy that is creeping me out. I started telling him that the guy is pretty weird, but we have fun saying silly things when we see each other…but he is an odd guy. #3 stopped me and said, “Mom, remember, in first grade, when I was mean to Tyler and you told me that was bad? You told me to be nice to him. This guy might be your Tyler.” That just put me in my place. Then I told him that this guy has been saying some things lately that are really starting to creep me out. Again he stopped me by saying, “Mama, you should just do what I do when kids are saying bad things on the playground. I say Jesus doesn’t want us to sin.” I am amazed an in awe of this little guy. I guess I’m not a failure.

When telling #1 about it this morning (he got the more in depth version) he told me I should call the cops.

I guess somewhere in the middle is the answer.

I won't go gracefully into that good night

2008-05-02T14:57:00.002-07:00

I have always prided myself on the fact that I have good eyesight. Not that I really have anything to do with it. There has always been this secret smugness inside of me as more and more people I know need glasses. When DM got glasses I giggled. When he needed bifocals I chortled. I'm married to an old man...hee, hee, hee.

Cut to present day.

I've been noticing that things are fuzzier than normal. I have to squint and move the paper back and forth when reading small print. But I don't need glasses. My eyes are fine. I'm not that old. Pay no attention to the grey hair...wait, it's not grey hair, it is highlights...yeah...highlights...platimum blonde highlights are what they are called.

Well, the attorney-du-jour gave me some documents to revise the other day. The came from a client and were in 9 point font. Normal font size is 12, so there is quite a difference. Combine that with the scribbling that said attorney made all over the paper and it was a difficult task. When I showed the mess I had to work with to other secretaries they groaned and said things like, "Better you than me." "Good luck with that." And my personal favorite, "HA!!!" I had 6 of these suckers to do! My eyes were crossing, but I finally got them done. I said to myself, "Self, maybe you should see about glasses, it might make the strain on our eyes less." Myself said, "Shut your hole, bitch! We are not that old!" Myself is a cranky one...potty mouth too. The next morning, when I arrived, on my chair was another document to revise. This one complete with tiny font, ADJ's scratchings, but to perfect my eyestrain it came in colors. The document had been created with track changes turned on. I HATE TRACK CHANGES! So I had to look at not just tiny black type, but red and blue as well. I got 2 pages into it, stomped downstairs (with my eyes streaming), lay prostrate at my BFF's feet and begged her to borrow her reading glasses.

The piece de resistance in the whole humiliating experience was when I tried them on and she said, "Oh! Don't wear them yet, they make you look old."

What is a BFF for, hhhmmmmm?

Confimation/First Communion

2008-05-01T16:42:00.002-07:00

Saturday #3 was confirmed & made his first communion. He was extraordinarily handsome in his suit and so very excited. I was so happy for him. He has been waiting to receive communion for nearly 2 years. Afterward when I asked him how he was he said, with eyes sparkling, "Great. You know, I wasn't sure if I should drink the blood. But I figured, what the heck, this is my first time. So I went for it."

His confirmation name is Joseph. When I asked why he picked Joseph, the reply was, "Well, Joseph is Jesus' step-father. I figured that if anyone could help me to be close to Jesus, he could."

Today is the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. I emailed DM to tell #3 that. #3 has football practice this evening. His reply was, "I'll fight for him in football."

Gotta love 9 year old boys!

Pain is not fun

2008-05-01T16:17:00.002-07:00

I am in pain. Total, hideous, brain numbing pain.

If only my ankle were numb.

Yesterday it was sore, so I wore my good shoes, for which I have a note from my chiropractor in order to wear at work. By lunch time it hurt so much I was nauseaus. I took my magical meds to no effect. On the way home I called the chiro to discuss it and we were befuddled. It hurts more when elevated, but doesn't hurt more when walking on it. Very strange. I called DM to get me the cowboy cure...BOOZE. He procured rum & mojito mix. I didn't drink enough. By 10 that night I was debating whether I should go to ER or not. I hate the ER...hospitals are no place for people! Anyway, I stuck my foot in a bucket of ice water (again) and froze it solid and was finally able to sleep.

This morning when I awoke it still hurt, just not as much as last night. Saw the chiro again and we decided that I must have strained my talofibular ligament. When she adjusted me, doing a side posture (which we have done dozens of times before) my foot got hung up and pulled a little. Maybe with the mess that is my ankle, it just couldn't take it. Still, very strange.

I called the orthopod, whom I saw in January. Yes January 2008! The soonest they can get me in is Monday. Left like this I will have gnawed my foot off by then. I asked if they could call something in for me or have any other ideas of what to do for the pain. They said (notice the quotes) "We couldn't possibly call anything in for you since it has been so long since you have been here."

Since when is 3 months long?!?!

Medical Pitbull Chick reared her ugly head. It has been a long time since she has surfaced and I would rather she continue to hide in the depths of the abyss that is my soul, but she is useful when needed. "Have the doctor call me then. I have an appointment...ON MONDAY...THAT IS 4 DAYS AWAY...WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO UNTIL THEN? HHHHMMMM?" She hemmed & hawed, but said she would leave a message and took my pharmacy # just in case.

I received a call from his office. Another nurse, who wanted to assure me that they wouldn't call in anything for me...blah, blah, blah. My response was the same. I'm still waiting to hear from them. Notice I'm not holding my breath?

Sure hope I don't have to go in to urgentcare.

A Blast from the Past

2008-04-16T23:49:00.002-07:00

I just realized that I had a blog on live journal years ago. I found it & started reading. Pretty funny, pretty interesting. I thought this tidbit would be good to put on here. It makes me see how far we have come. It was titled "What to do about (#3)".

That boy may be the death of me, or I him. I he lives to adulthood it will be a miracle!

Today started off badly when he told me that he didn't want to eat breakfast at school, just wanted to go play. I told him no, he must eat, he had plenty of time to eat and play. He growled around and finally went into the cafeteria. I didn't leave till I saw him scooting down the line with his tray, milk & utensils.

When I got there to pick him up, his teacher let us come into her room to wait for #2. #3 was so good. He sat right in his desk and did his homework with hardly any prompting from me. I was shocked and amazed.When done, we left to get #2. After a ways I looked back & there's no #3. "#1, go get your brother." He disappears also. A couple minutes later #1 emerges...dragging #3. The latter is mad, he wanted to go to the playground, I said we had to go to the Chiro. He's pissed, won't move, sitting, pouting on the sidewalk. I go over to the little house monkey and he won't get up, won't speak, only grunts. I try to stand him up, no dice, crumples to the ground like a cheap suit. Try again, this time putting my finger like a hook in his armpit and ATTEMPTING to lift him up like that.

Notice I said attempting?

The child is oblivious to pain...unless he chooses not to be. This is why spanking doesn't work with him. In order for it to effect his behavior it would have to be borderline child abuse...seriously. Gotta find some way to discipline him. Any way, I'm getting madder & madder. I finally decided to leave him there, he'll get bored & decide to straighten up.

What a moron I am.

He just stayed there pouting, and making sure to grunt if people walked by. Yes, I am so very proud. I'm glad I've finally gotten over myself and realized that his behavior is a reflection on him, not me. I go back over, try again. Same results. This time I threaten and make even more of an effort to get him moving, he will not. I give him a swat on his bottom, don't care anymore what people will think. He didn't care at all. I had to walk away, I asked my sister to help me & we just walked away from him toward the cars. He did start following, but knew we were watching him, so made sure to keep his distance. I took all the others to the cars and she went back for him. Surely he wouldn't behave that way for his Auntie.

See above moron comment.

She DRAGGED him into the office and told the secretary that I would be in later to get him. Picture this, a woman who is 6 months pregnant, dragging a 5 year old dead weight that is grunting, squealing and grabbing on to anything that he can.

He is very strong.

I wait till all the traffic has gone (about 10 minutes) and go in the office.

"Are you ready to come with me?"

"RREEEUUUNNNHHHH"

"We need to go now, get up."

"UURRRRGGGGGG"

I then take his backpack & say, "Fine, I'm taking this to the car then."

He gets up and follows me. I hug him and sit with him for a while, try to talk to no avail. Let him be, we'll talk later.

When we got home I made him go in his room until dinner. That was a feat in itself. He was apologetic and loving, then when he realized that didn't mean he could come out he freaked all over again.

It wasn't all horrible, he was the sweetest person after dinner. Remorseful & loving. I don't know what to do with him. I will not enable him to turn out like Dean Hoffman! (Dean is a guy that my brother went to highschool with...a complete sociopath)

Talk about a trip down memory lane. He really isn't nearly that bad anymore. Maybe he is learning to use his powers for good.

Kids are just too darn smart

2008-04-14T16:07:00.002-07:00

Last week while #3 and I were driving home from football practice, blissfully alone for once, he was babbling on about some video game. I had no frame of reference for what he was talking about & my mind was wandering far, far away. Being a good mom, I did manage to keep an attentiveish look on my face. When he was done I nodded and uttered something along the lines of "mmmhhhhmmmm". He began discussing the practice & I was once again transported into the conversation. Right in the middle he blurts out, "You were totally not listening to me before, huh mom?" If I hadn't been on the freeway I would have buried my face in my hands. I just giggled uncontrollably. He said, "See...I know you! #1 has taught me well."

They are just too smart!

Compliment for BFF?!?

2008-04-05T15:32:00.002-07:00

So...BFF is losing weight also. She looks so great it is unreal. She has lost more than I, somewhere around 35-40 lbs. Yes, she has a way to go, but she is going. Her husband, like mine, is not (outwardly anyway) appreciative of or really noticing this transformation. He does support her exercise tho'.

Yesterday, on the way to work, found herself in the unfortunate situation of having to walk to the gas station for some fuel to start the car. While on this walk, someone in a car driving by honked his horn and shouted "lift your shirt!"

If she had told me this in person I would have high-fived her. While not the type of attention she is hoping for, it was a validation of all the hard work she has done.

I may get a swelled head!

2008-03-28T10:03:00.002-07:00

Sveltitude baby. It's working.

I stopped at the local convenience store to get the all-important caffeine & nicotine. As I walked in, a man, not a disgusting man mind you, he wasn't untie guy, but not homeless or Jaba either. Anyway...this man looked at me (with appreciation in his eyes) and said "Good Morning, you are looking great today!" Idle chitchat followed as we poured our beverages of choice. I paid and as I walked out the door he made sure to say goodbye from across the store.

This does not sound like anything earth shattering, I realize, but damn it made my day!

You must realize, Dear Reader, that I am the same woman whom Driven Man awakened Tuesday afternoon, from a allergy induced nap, with the following.

DM: "Wake up chubby"
SW*: (glaring) "rrrrrrrrrrr"
DM: (gets on the bed w/ the princess) "Princess, don't hurt your mom's big nose."
SW: (smoke pouring out of ears)
DM: "Your mom's nose is an appendage."

*SW= Sveltitude Woman

I did not acknowledge him with a reply. I know that I cannot enjoy or parent my children from death row, so decided to do or say nothing. When DM took offence at the fact I was not friendly with him, this fell out of his mouth: "It's not my fault that you always wake up grumpy."

Enough with the complaining.

When I got in to work I regaled my BFF with the convenience store incident. As I walked away a co-worker stopped me and said, "You look so cute today! Why are you so dressed up? It is Friday!"

Later, I was looking for something in the filing cabinet. For some reason the previous secretary liked all the files down low. The upper cabinets are empty...the lower ones full...curious. ANYWAY! I'm bent over the lowest filing cabinet. I thought to myself, "Self, this might not be the greatest position to be in with my arse in the air." I answered, "Well, it is hard to squat, especially in these boots & besides, this corner is deserted." Just then I hear a voice, "This job may suck sometimes, but the fringe benefits are great!" It was the friendly, freaky mail room guy. He had rolled his cart up to my desk while I was embroiled in the conversation with my self so I didn't hear him.

Three compliments in one day & it wasn't even 10:00 a.m.

How great is that?!

There aren't many things hotter...

2008-03-27T17:08:00.004-07:00

...than a good looking man with a tie slung over his shoulders, untied.

Now, he does have to start with the looks to begin with. I mean Jaba the Hut, the Staypuff Marshmellow Man or John Belushi wouldn't make me melt wearing an untie. Imagine this guy:

with a tie draped around his neck. How much hotter would he be? Tons.

The reason is I'm even posting this is because I rode the elevator with a guy wearing an untie. I was drooling & barely able to exit when the doors opened.

Can you tell where my mental state is? Yes I am pathetic, but he was yummy!

These people have no pulse!

2008-03-10T13:58:00.005-07:00

I work in the morgue.

You've heard me say it before, but I don't think you can comprehend the bone deep truth of that title.

A couple of weeks ago, DM had purchased rubber cockroaches and hid them all over the house. When I went to the bathroom, one lept out of the toilet paper holder. One was sitting on the crockpot covered with a cup. Another was in the soap scrunchy when I showered. My wallet, etc.

I decided that I could have a little fun with them too. My desk sits at the end of a hallway and I can see anyone coming and going from the women's bathroom, copy room and galley. Around 10 a.m. I took one of the revolting little suckers and put it in the cup dispenser. It is the kind with horizontal cup dispensers, you pull one out and the next one pops into place. I placed it on top of the cup in the top dispenser, so that the next person to take a cup would have it spring out at them.

Then I waited.

Nothing happened for quite a while. People kept coming and going, but there was no indication of anything awry. Right before lunch two men, that I had never seen before, left the galley giggling slightly. When they were gone I had to check. It was laying in plain view on the counter next to the soda machine. I was so pleased, the fun was about to begin! Or so I thought. When I came back from lunch it was still sitting in the same spot. For the next three hours I observed multitudes of people going in and out of that room without any reaction whatsoever!!!!! Not a squeak, shudder, scream or even a glance back over their shoulder on the way out the door. NOTHING!!!!!! I did check a couple of times and it was still in the same spot on the counter. At 4:30 a lady that I really like went into the galley, I figured that she would have some reaction. NOTHING!! When she left I did another check and it was still there. As I left at 5 it was finally gone.

I do not understand these people! They really are dead! I am ready to chew my own arm off! My mind is turning to jello. I'm thinking about faking a seizure in the middle of the hallway to see if anyone would notice.

The good news is that, while writing this, I overheard people saying that a new secretary has been hired for the attorney du jure. She will start in two weeks! Hopefully I will go to a different floor soon!

What to do...what to do?

2008-03-07T15:01:00.002-07:00

The partners are all in another city for a poohbah meeting. The morgue is more dead than usual. I'm ready to blog, but unsure what to do first.

Should it be the new additions to our home...Pablo Pigcaso & Sir Alec Guinea?

What about my failed attempt to liven up the morgue?

While I contemplate you must read this: http://derfwadmanor.blogspot.com/2008/03/newly-wed.html Very fun and spot on advice for a newly wed. Better than a letter opener in DM's ocular cavity. To be fair, we had a fantastic day together as a family...the lot of us. Very fun.

Embracing my new found sveltitude

2008-02-26T16:04:00.005-07:00

This is not an easy task. I still feel somewhat like that gross old fat lady. I am far from my goal weight (which I haven't seen since freshman year...of high school) but I have lost 5 1/2 pounds since joining WW, 12 since the start of the fat burn challenge, and 18 since critical mass. I'm not really sure when critical mass was, but it was within the past year. It was the kind of number that, upon first viewing, makes ones skin flush and blood run cold. It was a number that I had never seen, and will never see again! My clothes are fitting better and I'm able to wear things that I haven't in over a year.

I keep wearing the fat clothes, because, well, who has the money to buy new work clothes? I have a couple of skirts that are loose enough I'm beginning to fear they will fall off. What does is say about me that I'm hoping that happens? It would be completely different from the eyeliner/mooning incident chronicled in Humiliations Galore. It would be conformation of my ongoing achievement. (Seeing how the world would end if DM ever acknowledged it.) Or maybe I'm just a closet, or not so closet (WOULD YOU SHUT THE FREAKING DOOR?!?) exhibitionist. I can see it now! I get out of my desk in the morgue. I walk toward the boss du jure's office. My feet tangle in the skirt around my ankles and I fall KATHUNK to the floor. No one would notice as this is the morgue & I am the only one who is capable of human emotion or aware of their surroundings. Kicking off the blessedly offending skirt I do move like this:
Well, the add a photo feature is not working...imagine a kid breakdancing...imagine me break dancing. Eewww never mind, don't do that. We might hurt something.

So, anyway, back to the reason for this post. No really, I'm not ADHD!

I went out for a break...yes to smoke & read...(take that DM)...on my way back in I was engrossed in my book. Since having been a highly accomplished read-walker since I began to read, I was doing just that. As I approached the glass doors I heard someone behind me. I glanced at the door to see who was behind me and how far away they were when I saw the reflection of a nice looking woman. It still amazes me how fast the human mind can process information. What happened inside my head goes something like this:

Wow, she looks good

dark wavy hair

cow jacket

nice lipstick

just like me

WAIT

THAT IS ME!!!

DAMN!!!!!! I LOOK GOOD!!!!

Oh, there's a blond lady behind me carrying two Starbucks cups. I should open the door for her. I guess she looks good too.

I guess I am now truly embracing my new found sveltitude.

WeightWatchers really works!!

2008-02-25T10:29:00.002-07:00

There was a fatburn challenge at work in October. I entered, tried, lost a couple pounds, but nothing good enough to win money in the challenge. Part of my problem was that Driven Man was doing anything he could to undermine me. The other part was that I didn't really have a plan. I "tried to eat better". I didn't want to go on a "diet" because then I would feel denied and then cheat & quit. I wanted to exercise, but couldn't figure it out. Driven Man was so against me joining a gym & so I dragged my feet. After the contest ended, I decided not to care what he thought. I need to exercise, I need to eat better food than the processed, greasy, prepackaged stuff that we have been eating for so long. I decided to take a page from the DM handbook and do what I want without saying anything to him. I signed up at the Bally's by my house. I have been consistently going now for the past few weeks.

I joined WeightWatchers inadvertently. I wanted to learn more because my BFF, who happens to work at the same company I do, has been doing it. I needed to learn about it so I could keep talking to her. Everything was points this and points that. They had a deal where you get a free week membership in their online program. I had to enter my card info, since at the end of the week they charge for a 3 month membership. I thought, "No problem, I'll just cancel before the week is up." HA!!!! I am now $70 poorer, but 5 1/2 pounds lighter!!! I figured that if I paid the $, I may as well work the program. The funny thing is, it really does work. I'm not feeling deprived or hungry and it is helping me change the way I think about food.

Today we had a secretarial meeting and they had bagels for us. I just grabbed a bottle of water and sat down. When people started asking why I wasn't eating (was I not feeling well?) I smiled and said, "I lost 2 1/2 lbs. this week, that feels better than any bagel tastes."

My Flying Experience

2008-01-13T14:02:00.000-07:00

On January 4, 2008 I went, with my family & Dad, to SkyVentures Arizona. Here is the view of the area around there:

It was a nice drive, took about 1 1/2 hours. The kids all slept. When we got down there we saw some parachutists. They just appeared out of the sky when their shutes opened. It was almost hard to go in the building to sign in, because watching them was such fun.

Now, the thing you must understand is that DM had gotten me a gift certificate. He had come down previously and paid $80 for the deluxe package. When looking for the gift certificate the night before, we couldn't find it!!!!! Yes, that's right, it was no where to be found. All we can think is that the kids had grabbed the envelope while cleaning up & it got thrown away. Since I had made the reservation, even if we didn't show up, we would still have to pay, so we went. When we got there we begged the lady to look up our names & she found it, so it didn't cost us any more $.

We went up the stairs and into the building with the wind tunnel. There were employees in it, so we watched them for a while.

I tell you, I felt like a little kid at a birthday party. When it's time to open presents all the other kids rush in as close as possible to watch. Yep, that was me. Whenever one of the guys went in to show off, I was there with my nose pressed to the glass. It was so cool!!! They stepped in and would shoot to the top of the 14' tunnel, then dive back down. They did "Matrix" moves, turned upside down then spin on their heads like gravity defying break dancers. It was amazing and I want to learn how to do it.

Once everyone was there, our instructor took us in the classroom and showed us a video on how to fly. They showed us the position we were to be in and the hand signals that would be used to help us adjust while flying. We then had to get on a little table and demonstrate that we knew how to do the position. Then they gave us our gear. We got an attractive suit like you see above, knee and elbow pads, ear plugs and goggles. Then we went into what was the "holding tank" to take turns flying. Here is a picture of me waiting my turn. Pretty huh?

The grooviest thing about the goggles was that mine kept fogging up like my face was Manila. Every once in a while I'd pull them out away from my face and let them dry out. The only thing that made me nervous at all was wondering if they'd get all fogged up while I was flying and then I wouldn't be able to see anything. I did wonder if it would be difficult to breathe, but figured it couldn't be too bad if people do it all the time.

Watching everyone else was neat, but I was so anxious to get in there. It seemed like their flights were so short.

Then, in I went. I was flying!!!! I got into position and was flying!! The instructor was in there helping me and having me change the position of my legs to adjust the flight. My glasses didn't fog & it was not hard to breathe. I just floated around in there for what seemed like days. Then he was directing me over to the door since my turn was up.
I was glad too because I was tired. The force of the wind on my body, shoulders especially, was tiring. I remember wondering why my turn seemed so much longer than everyone else's. Then I remembered that I had the deluxe package and my flights were 2 minutes where everyone else had only 1 minute...that would make a difference.

We rotated through and all got our second turns. The next time in I started experimenting on my own with changing the position of my arms and legs. The straighter my legs were the higher I would go, more bent, the lower, till I was almost resting on the mesh bottom. At one point I was about 7 feet up and started spinning and spinning. I was not happy when the instructor stopped me. By the time my time was up I was glad, I was really tired. As the instructor moved me toward the door I reached out (wasn't supposed to do that) and went spinning off away from the door. It was really fun. I can't wait to do it again!!

#3 wants to go flying for his birthday at the end of this month and he will get it. Maybe this time we will shoot some video!

Bodily Functions ARE Funny

2008-01-08T14:58:00.000-07:00

I am not an 8-14 year old boy, but today I'm really glad that I live with some. Bodily functions ARE funny. Here is how it went down:

The associate that I am currently working for is at my desk looking through her mail. This lady is awesome, very un-attorney like. At a party we had she would rather play with the kids that were there than mingle with co-workers. My kind of people...anyway, on with the humiliation.
We are talking and going through mail, I'm looking down and OUT OF NOWHERE I FART!!! I am the queen of the SBD and if I let one of those go, I could pretend not to notice it or blame the secretary next to me. This was loud. Nothing ground shaking or gross, but a nice resounding TOOT.

What to do? How do I downplay this? Yes, I'm with ubercoolattorneylady but geesh! I AM NOT A BOY!!! I AM NOT MY MOTHER!!! Or my grandmother for that matter. I CANNOT be proud of what I just did! It was too noticeable for me to ignore tho'. We both looked up at each other at the same time. She asked, "Was that..?" I just nodded, I could tell I was starting to turn red & put my head down on my desk, willing myself not to blush. When one blushes one just makes matters that much worse. We were just giggling and giggling. She kept stammering, "...I can't believe it...you made my day..." As she walked back to her office, shoulders still shaking, she said, "It is nice to know that everyone is human."

That it is. Laughing is good, laughing at yourself is even better. When I post this I will be sending her this little tidbit that someone sent me...very appropriate:

A lady walks into Tiffany's. She browses around, spots a beautiful diamond bracelet and walks over to inspect it. As she bends over to look more closely she inadvertently farts. Very embarrassed, she looks around nervously to see if anyone has noticed her little accident and prays that a salesperson doesn't pop up right now. As she turns around, her worst nightmare materializes in the form of a salesman standing right behind her. Cool as a cucumber and displaying complete professionalism, the salesman greets the lady with, 'Good day, madam. How may we help you today?' Very uncomfortably, but hoping that the salesman may not have been there at the time of her little 'accident', she asks, 'Sir, what is the price of this lovely bracelet?' He answers, 'Madam, if you farted just looking at it, you're going to shit when I tell you the price!!'

Best Christmas Ever!!

2007-12-31T13:05:00.000-07:00

This was a very fun Christmas.

We went to the children's Mass at 4 on Christmas Eve because Driven Man had to work at 7. That was a trial & #1 had a VERY difficult time with the people reading magazines and playing video games during Mass. When we got out DM rushed off to work & we went out with Wawa for dinner at Macayos.

Now, the tradition in our family is that we open one present on Christmas Eve. The present that the boys got to open was Guitar Hero III. Katie opened her Littlest Pet Shop and was beside herself with joy. The boys & I cracked open the GH & played & played & played. It was so much fun...#s 2&3 are very serious while playing. It is fun, but quiet. We do talk and taunt between songs, but during is all about the song. #1 and I are just a couple of idiots. We laugh & tease & kick each other. I swear I morph into a 14 year old boy when I play with him!

We opened all the other presents in the morning. I realized I'm going to have to keep DM...he gave me the best presents ever! The first was a mounted poster of this:

I first saw this picture in a photography book I got at the library. This is Salvador Dali photographed by Phillipe Halsman. Everything in the picture is in the air. I think it is the most brilliant piece of photography I've ever seen.

The second gift is a certificate for a trip in a wind tunnel. Here is a little explanation from their website:
Indoor Skydiving gives you the opportunity to experience the freedom of flight with no parachute or experience needed. Find out why birds sing without having to actually jump from an airplane.

So, essentially, I will be doing this:

Yes...I will put pictures up here! I'm going to post this now, as my adoring public is clamoring for some new reading material. At least we just found out that we get to leave at 3!!!!!

Home Life Update

2007-12-27T11:19:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I wrote about the changes that have happened at work. Now for the home changes.

Driven Man has started working for a governmental agency that is involved in communications. Does the term "going postal" mean anything to you? He now has a "good" excuse for being cranky and insane. He is still working at night, just MUCH longer hours. The reason for him taking this job is because #1 had signed up to go to World Youth Day in Australia next summer. We were saving money but he, being Driven Man, had to take this job to raise the money. Later on we found out that since he wasn't 16 yet, one of his parental units would have to go with him. $4k is sooooo much more doable than $8k!! When that dream died, DM said he had to work for Christmas presents. He also has this family cruise idea. More power to him. Now I almost never see him. I am working during the day and he is working at night. Initially he was scheduled for 4-6 hours a night, now that it's Christmas it is 8 hours. The crazy thing about it is that they can decide to have people work overtime any time they feel. The employees HAVE to work it! They are held hostage & not able to leave! It really seems to be the opposite of my job. Some days it sucks & I really miss him. Other days it is probably for the best. Sad...but true.

Now I will experiment with inserting a picture:

This is the Christmas present I asked my mom to get me. It has been a long time since I had any cool Pampered Chef stonewear. I can't wait to use it.

Wow...I'm really lame. (hanging head in shame)

I'M BAAAAACCCCKKKK!!!!!!!

2007-12-26T15:21:00.000-07:00

I'm not dead. I've been entrenched in the world of white collar crime and have not had 3 brain cells to rub together, much less the time to write here.

In the beginning/middle of June I was assigned to the WCC department. Both secretaries left the firm within two weeks and, basically, I was left to run the show myself! It was a terrifying and exciting experience. That desk was really busy and the attorneys so nice. I got to learn what white collar crime really means...someone with money that gets in trouble with the law. We had everything from DUIs to molesters to government scandals. It was interesting to say the least. In the middle of it I was assigned to another litigation partner who was having difficulties replacing her secretary of 15 years. The dear woman retired, and apparently no one could fill her shoes. I couldn't either and I was fitting #3. For a tiny, dried up, little old lady she sure had huge shoes to fill...I'm talking Shaq here! Fitting #4 seems to be working out, I do hear them yelling at each other, but at least she has lasted 2 months. After that going back to only WCC was a treat, but shortly thereafter the group left the firm and I'm back to floating. That is a vacation in itself. To be able to work leisurely is a treat, having nothing to do...not so much. You know you are sick when you reminisce about the insane days!

Well, it is time to go home. I know this has been boring, but next time I'll tell all about Guitar Hero III!

whah whah whah whah whah

2007-06-07T17:19:00.001-07:00

This could also be titled "Driven Man is Charlie Brown's teacher."

It is impossible to talk to Driven Man on the phone. It is not easy to talk to him at all actually, he mumbles. His mother complains that he "eats his words" when he talks. She just may be right.

He likes to wait until I'm on the other side of the house to say something to me. We live in a sardine can, it shouldn't be hard to hear each other, but it is. He speaks just loudly enough that I can tell he is talking to me, but I have no idea what he is saying. When I say, "what" he repeats it exactly the same way. When I still cannot understand him, he repeats again, the only difference would be the level of annyoance in his voice. It then falls to me to stop what I'm doing and go to him to find out what he is saying. Having left the work I was doing I go to him to find out he wanted to inform me of the average wing speed of a swallow.

The other day, while I was driving home, he called me. He had me on speaker phone. This is how the conversation went:

DM: "whah whah whah my mom whah whah whah house?"
Me: "What?"
DM: "whah pick whah mom whah whah whah ...se?"
Me: "I'm sorry honey, what was that?"
DM: (louder & background noise) "Pick up whah whah whah at Auntie Sarah's house?"
We don't have an Auntie Sarah
Me: "I understand that you want me to pick your mom up, but where?"
DM: "whah whah house!"
Me: "Would you please pick up the phone, I can't understand you.
DM: (the Princess is screaming in the background)"I'm cooking dinner."
Me: "Well if you picked up the phone for 10 seconds I would know what you want then you could hang up."
DM: "I'm busy here, just whah whah whah anticara"
Me: "What is an anticara?"
DM: "You know whah whah friends house!"
Me: "I really have no idea what you are talking about!"
DM: "The one whah whah QT!!"
Me: "What about QT?"
DM: "ANTICARA, ANTICARA!!"
Me: "JUST PICK UP THE PHONE!"
DM: "whah whah 40th Street whah whah"
Me: (through clenched teeth) "Do you mean Tita Flor's house?"
DM: "anticara, anticara, yes."
Me: "Fine I'll get her." Click, buzzzzzzzz

It turns out that Tita Flor's last name is something that resembles anticara. Now, I've known her for years & didn't realize that she had a last name. I thought she was like Madonna or Prince or even Brittney.

The very best part of the whole experience is that when I got to "anticara" there was no answer at the door. I rang the bell for a long time to no avail. I went back & called Mom's cell phone...no answer there either. I HAD TO CALL DRIVEN MAN BACK!!!!! He called "anticara's" phone and there was no answer.

After about 15 minutes I called her cell again...they were inside talking...they just didn't hear anything!!!!!!

Names for the Crazy Lady that Carries Her Own Keyboard from Desk to Desk

2007-06-05T12:48:00.000-07:00

Microsoft Snob

Obsessive Compulsive

Keyboard Geek

Anal

Keystroke Nerd

Ergonomically Enhanced

Control Freak

Standard Challenged

Just plain pathetic

And this from my dad: Keyboard Retentive

Twisted, twisted child

2007-05-08T13:49:00.001-07:00

I love my children equally, but in different ways, because they are such different people. #2 is especially twisted. His sense of humor is so much like mine it frightens me sometimes. When watching movies we very often wind up laughing uproariously, when no one else does.

Last night while we were all watching our favorite show, "How I Met Your Mother," there was a commercial for some depression medicine. You know the one: Depression hurts, blah, blah, blah. (Not making fun of depression, just the commercial.) It talks about how depression hurts, sadness, being unable to function, lack of interest, etc. In the middle of it #2 pipes up with, "I'm depressed at school!" Driven man, #1 & I all laughed until we wet ourselves.

Changing the bed at 8:00p.m. is not very fun.

Name Change

2007-05-08T13:36:00.000-07:00

My darling husband, heretofore referred to as Rob't, will now be known as Driven Man. He knows why and I don't need to share. I've mentioned before how much more task oriented he is than I...well he is. Hence the moniker Driven Man.

Silly silly morning

2007-05-03T09:16:00.000-07:00

Yes, it has been a while since I have posted, but the assignments I've had have kept me very busy. That is a good thing, but there has been quite a bit to report.

Yesterday was just a laugh a minute. I will relate the events of the morning in reverse order.

Incident the third: As #1 & I were driving to school, traffic going in the other was stopped. No, it wasn't an accident. As we got closer we saw a man in the road hunched over. HE WAS HERDING DUCKS! A mother duck & her little ducklings were...wait for it...crossing the road, and this man had stopped traffic to help them get out of the street. Yes, very nice man, very good deed, I might have done it myself, but by this point of the morning it was fuel for uproarious giggles.

Incident the second: Earlier on our drive to school there was a gigantic van ahead of us. When I say gigantic, I mean it wasn't a full size passenger van or some such. It wasn't a panel truck, it wasn't any kind of vehicle I have ever seen before. It was smaller than a semi, but bigger than a panel truck. It was white with MANY brightly colored cartoon animals on it. As we got close enough to read it, the sign said...and I kid you not..."Doggie Dude Ranch Daycare Bus". Say that ten times fast! I gave #1 my phone and he tried to take a picture, but it didn't work.

Incident the first: I was in the shower, actively showering, and Rob't pulls open the shower curtain. Initially I was thinking that this could be fun, except he had such a concerned, sincere look on his face. He said, "I'm worried that you have breast cancer." Here I am, naked and dripping wet (sorry for the visual), wondering what has happened that I don't know about. Am I having blackouts and I went to the doctor & just don't remember it? Was Rob't getting friendly while I slept & found a lump? I said, as you can probably imagine, "WHAT?!" He repeated it and as I stood there with mouth gaping & blinking the water out of my eyes he asked, "Do you check? Do you have a buddy to remind you to check?" As I shook myself out of my confusion induced haze, I was able to blurt out, "Yes I check, no I don't have a buddy, but I check. WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME THIS?" Again with the concerned expression. "Well breast cancer is more prevalent...I blame microwaves." At which point I told him to get out of the bathroom.

The Weekend

2007-04-23T12:48:00.000-07:00

Wow...Weekends now mean so much more to me than they have in 15 years! It used to be that weekends were the time that I didn't have to drive the kids to school or worry about homework. We also got to see Rob't during the day...sometimes. Now, weekends are the time that I don't have to shower first thing in the morning if I don't want to. I don't have to blow dry my hair if it doesn't need it. I don't have to wear make-up. I don't have to be trapped, like a rat in a building. I can go do or not do whatever I want!

Saturday we had planned to go out of town to a picnic area with my whole family. When we woke up Rob't asked me to go check the weather and see what it was like, we wouldn't want to go for our picnic if it was raining. My reply was that I didn't care what the weather was like...I was going! I nearly got a panic attack thinking about cancelling it. I wanted to be outside & run & jump & be free & one with nature. I wanted to see my brother & sister & all the kids, since I don't hardly get to talk to them anymore. We decided not to go out of town, but had a picnic at a park in town. It was so much fun, chillier than we are used to, but welcome with the hell of summer looming on us. I hadn't realized how clausterphobic I had been feeling until that morning. YES I can see out of windows at my office, but that is just a tease. What good is being able to look out when you aren't able to go out?

I didn't wear make-up. I couldn't believe how happy I was not to put it on. For Mass I just wore mascarra & a little lipstick, but the rest of the time it was au natural. Yes, I believe I may be a moron. This morning, as I was washing my face #1 was in there with me. I was grumbling, "gotta wash my face before I gunk it all up again." He was confused, "Don't you mean gunk it up before you wash it?" "No, I'm washing it so I can just gunk it up with makeup." He looked bewildered and walked away. In that respect, I wish I were a man.

Lunch is over...more later.

WARNING, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED!!!

2007-04-18T13:10:00.000-07:00

Please do not read this if you are shy about feminine issues. I have a very embarrassing situation. Nipples. For some odd reason mine are particularly perky. Now this is not a new phenomenon since, BW, I wore T-shirts and patterned shirts that really didn't show them so much. Now that I'm working, and wearing dressier clothes, the shirts are thinner & usually a solid color. I feel like I've got a couple of freaking spelunking lamps on my chest! And, I don't know if anyone else has this problem, but, if I'm not careful while dressing they can wind up pointing in odd directions. Sort of like a lazy eye, but different, so very different. The other great part is sometimes I need to adjust myself. Normally I wouldn't notice, hence, wouldn't care.

THE ELEVATORS AT MY OFFICE ARE MIRRORED!!!!

How hideous is that?!? Not only do I have to be confronted with the fact that my bangs are looking like David Cassidy and my lipstick needs to be reapplied (what's up with that anyway?) I can see in living (gold tinted anyway) color that I need to readjust. It's even better when I'm standing right on the side so that 1/2 of me is reflected in the door & 1/2 in the wall. Makes my right breast look like it is growing out of my neck and the left is growing out of my stomach. I, invariably, decide THAT is the time to adjust...so I do...I'm alone...what's the big?

SECURITY CAMERAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I remember the security cameras I try to be embarrassed...until the next time.

Maybe I should start waving.
Or just flash them.

Humiliations Galore!

2007-04-17T09:50:00.000-07:00

Humiliations Galore

I like wearing skirts, I really do. I'm really not a slacks person, more a jeans or skirts person. This morning has made me re-think the issue of wearing slacks to work...almost.

I was having a temper tantrum. Robert had asked me to get #3 up early this morning, he had school work to fix. I did, granted I didn't wake up very cheerfully.

I know those of you that have known me for most of my life are laughing hysterically right now. The thing is, I have come leaps and bounds in the past 15 years. None of you would recognize me first thing in the morning. I still can't say that I'm perky, but no one has been in mortal danger from me upon awakening in many, many years. If they are, they have deserved it. I have made Herculean efforts to be patient and nice in the morning. But I digress.

Robert woke me up, I did the 3 minute cuddle with #3, then took the dogs out. When I came in I got ready to get in the shower. Rob't complained that I hadn't, "stuck with," #3. He had been walking when I left him, I saw the whites of his eyes, he mumbled coherently to me, I (erroneously) assumed my job was done. I was already grumpy about being up (Rob't & I have differing opinions on the best method of awakening someone), needed to get in the shower, dress, do the whole hair & makeup thing, BLEH. Went in an growled @ #3, "Get dressed right now, you were up, don't make my life harder, we can end the 3 min. cuddle if you don't appreciate it, blah, blah, blah, ad naseum." The boy really is my kid, he wakes up so hard, which is why I'm stuck with getting him out of bed, at least I have some empathy. Anyway...

Rob't was asking me to do all these things. Nothing big, just little, getting ready to go things. It is really no big deal, but this morning it pissed me off. He seems to have them more organized as far as backpacks go, so there isn't that to worry about. He always did the ironing, and I always did getting the boys up. Other than that, I basically got the boys ready and out the door in the morning, by myself. He always had this idea in his head of when he wanted to leave, and nothing would deter him from that. Granted, I probably never asked him for help, but I always heard that he had a time schedule and his time schedule was sacred. Apparently it still is. He just kept asking me to do this, find that, yada, yada, yada, this morning. He doesn't seem to understand or care that I have alot to do, for myself, in the morning to leave also. There is the shower, hair, make-up (& half of that I put on in the car anyway!), etc. I didn't say anything to him, like a complete moron, but eventually barked, "Hey I have things to do too!" This, unfortunately, was when he was walking out the door. Like Flylady always says, "Nobody likes a martyr, especially the martyr." I will talk to him tonight about letting me get ready for work. Again with the digressing.

Anyway, I took #1 to school in a snit. Bitchy, bitchy, bitchy. I asked #1 his opinion about what happened this morning & he just said, "Hey, I'm staying out of this one." Smart boy. After I dropped him off I decided that I deserved eyeliner. I stopped at the Walgreen's to get some. I parked in the 15 min. spot, right by the door, because it wouldn't take me that long. A man was getting into the car to my left as I was getting out. While I was walking, to the right, in the store my skirt just didn't feel right. I ran my hand down the back to check it, felt okay. It still seemed weird. As I passed in front of the door to go in I checked my reflection...the back of the skirt was all bunched up!!!!! I got inside the store, freaked, fixed the skirt and went to look for the eyeliner. The man getting in his car probably got a great show...I have no idea how much of a show & don't want to know. If this was still BW(before work), I wouldn't be wearing a stinking skirt on a Tuesday morning! I would be wearing jeans or shorts or something that is incapable (almost) of flashing anyone unintentionally! I could have been still half asleep instead of fully aware. Most importantly...I wouldn't have given a thought to eyeliner & if I deserved it or not.

The thing that frightens me the most about it is that I'm not all that embarrassed about it. I keep thinking that I should be, but I just am not all that worked up about it. Does that mean I'm an old lady? Rob't keeps telling me that I'm no spring chicken anymore...Butthead.

Things I hate about working outside of my house

2007-04-16T15:53:00.000-07:00

Pantyhose. Admittedly I haven't worn them since day one, where I took them off in the bathroom about 2:00p.m. I put them in my purse (why did I do THAT?!) They are at home and I don't think I'll be wearing them any time soon.

Makeup. On Good Friday I went to church by myself. It was my decision. I was able to pray better and longer than I have in years, but I was missing my kids. Every time I looked up there was another homeschooling family. The tears started to come, then wouldn't stop. I asked the little old lady next to me if she had a tissue. She gave me the only one she had. I was sniffling and trying to keep my mascara from running so I don't wind up looking like Alice Cooper circa 1980! After a while the lady next to me asked the one behind us if she had any tissues because she didn't think I would make it on just hers. I made a complete fool of myself, I tried to get out of there without talking to anyone, but that is impossible. When I didn't wear stinking makeup all the time I could cry and not worry about what I look like!

Shaving my legs. Most of you know how much I HATE shaving my legs. The pits get shaved daily, I'm not European, the legs I let go for as long as I can stand it. I have shaved my legs four times in two weeks!!!! I can't stand it!!! I am the girl that shaved in September, for my brother's wedding, then didn't shave again until some time in March. That was after Robert woke up one morning and screamed, "AAARRRGGGHHH!! There's a man in our bed!!" That, and I just couldn't bare to wear shorts looking like Yeti.

Rush hour traffic. Wow, I haven't missed it. I am not usually one to engage in road rage, but I'm being pushed to my limit. Son #1 commented that I had yelled at another driver the other day and how unusual that was. I didn't tell him about the day when a lady cut me off who had a breast cancer pink ribbon bumper sticker. It was a VERY close call. I yelled, "Get breast cancer and die!" Definitely not one of my finer moments.

Everyone is alive

2007-04-10T13:12:00.000-07:00

Well, there was the yelling and the screaming when Robert got home and saw the window of the van. All children were allowed to live, tho' Robert did tell me, "#1's life is over. He's going to be my bitch for a long, long time." I asked if he had said that on his own or if he'd heard #1 say it. They both had the same thought independantly, that truly frightens me.

We went to the Diamondbacks game last night. It was so much fun. Robert and the kids took the bus to the game & I left my car in the garage. When we were going home I took the kids upstairs so they could see where Mama works. They were suitably impressed.

Time to get back to work...will post more later.

HAPPY EASTER!...Or how to keep my husband from killing my boys

2007-04-08T18:41:00.000-07:00

The Lord has risen! My boys may soon be in their graves.

We got up early, Robert made breakfast, the princess hunted eggs with the assistance of her brothers, we went to brunch at Havana Cafe (yum, yum yum, their food is just so good), back to Wawa's for more egg hunting. All in all a very nice day. Robert then drove the ladies to the Casino for the traditional Easter gambling. The kids & I came home. I took a nice nap. The boys were playing outside with their weapons. These weapons are great and I wholly endorse them. They are pvc pipe with pool noodles over them for padding, then the whole things is covered in duct tape for sturdiness. Nice weapons...I even like fighting with them, but then I am a twisted person. Anyway, back to the nap. I woke up to my princess snuggled up next to me and was lying there basking in her beauty when there came shouts from outside. These were not the battle crys that had lulled me to sleep. Then I heard my name. They barged in the house yelling, "Mom, mom, a bad thing happened!!! Did you hear that big crash? At least we can get a free box of Omaha steaks!" This was from son #3. There is an autoglass company that advertises here that when you have them replace your windsheild they will give you a free box of Omaha steaks. You must remember that I am still in that post nap, sleep befuddled haze. It was so nice, I didn't want to leave it. I got up, went outside and found that the entire back window of the van had shattered!!

Apparently they were fighting, #3 was by the van, #1 threw a rock, #3 had the audacity to duck, bumping into the window, the rock thrown by #1 hit said window and shattered it.

I called my dad. He is calling autoglass places. We are cleaning up the mess. #1 said, "I'm gonna be Papa's bitch for a long time, huh?"

He couldn't be more right.

I still have no idea how to save my sons.

Day One

2007-04-06T14:46:00.000-07:00

April 2, 2007

So I'm off to work. Not even Katie seems too distressed, which is good, but everyone is acting like life is normal. It is sssoooooooo not normal for me. I go to work with visions of Robert cleaning the house & having a nice dinner made when I get home. You may scoff, but he would do it just to show me how easy it is. He is more task oriented than I...a fact he reminds me of often.

Orientation all day, no biggie. They just fill my head with lots of fluffy information, give me WAY too many papers, and have me watch some videos. People here seem to be overly happy with their jobs. I've had multitudes tell me what a fabulous and fun place this is to work. It is a little creepy to me. I understand the "pump up the new meat mentality", but please. People have even stopped me while walking down the hall to tell me how great it is. Weird.

Rob't calls in the late afternoon to ask me to pick up some things for dinner. Asks me to get veggie stuff for our mexican pizza's he is making. As I smirk to myself, I told him no problem. Far be it from me to complain about stopping at the store after work. How many times had I asked him to do it & he bitched or said no? How many you ask? Let's just say that I don't have that many fingers or toes. I don't have that many leg hairs for that matter! During our phone call he says...and I quote..."We have a little bit of cheese." I ask if he wants me to get some. His only reply is something to the kids about homework. Again I ask if I should get cheese too. He says, "The veggies are good."

I drive home and am tired, really tired. I miss my afternoon naps with Kate. Not that I took them everyday (really Robert I didn't), but I could have used one today. I stop at the store to get the veggies, I wonder if I should get cheese, but no, he said just the veggies.

Walk in the door. The house is basically in the same shape as when I left. The two little ones attack me and ask about my day. AAWWW they do love me! Rob't is standing by the stove looking frazzled. I give him the groceries and lay down in bed with Kate. The man is muttering and then yells, "WHERE'S THE CHEESE?!" The following insanity ensues:

Me: I didn't get cheese, you told me not to.
Him: I told you that we only had a little cheese.
Me: But you said to only get the veggies.
Him: We need cheese, go to the store and get some.
Note: he would almost NEVER go to the store after coming home from work.
Me: *Sigh* Fine I'll go. *I get up and change my shoes.*
Him: CHEESE!!!!!!
Me: *walking into the kitchen* Do you want me to go now and get cheese?
Him: *shaking the bag of cheese*
Me: What does that mean? Should I go or not?
Him: *growing increasingly whinier* But the cheese.
Me: Yeeees...Do you want me to go right now and get it?
Him: *pouty voice* We'll just use what is here.

Dinner was lovely. And yes...there was enough cheese.

Am I Wrong?!?

2007-04-06T07:31:00.000-07:00

It never fails. Within 15 minutes of Robert leaving to take the kids to school, he has to call me.

What's up with that? I thought it was cute at first. Now...not so much.

Today, being Good Friday, the kids are not going to school, but with my sister. They, however, are meeting at school to make the switch. Rob't. calls me asking me to call school to let them know the boys won't be there.

HE'S GOING TO BE AT SCHOOL!!!!!!!

I calmly stated that fact, and that he could simply pop his head in the office and inform them. He didn't like that idea.

He has things to do today.

I reminded him that I, also, had things to do today. Things relating to my ass being an ATM machine. Gotta stock the machine dontcha know.

When we hung up, he didn't say he would go to the school office. I didn't say I would call. He didn't seem so happy.

Am I wrong?