Truth is... I had the doctor "close up my shop" a long time ago. Yet, every time I go for an ultrasound to see if my parts have indeed strangled themselves, I am always nervous that they'll tell me there's someone waving hello in there.
Truth is... The Rollo McFlurry from McDonald's may just be my new favorite thing about summer.
Truth is... I really don't feel like going to the fireworks this year. I'll still go, I just don't have it in me to deal with the traffic.
Truth is... I'm feeling a bit guilty about going with a new bakery for the wedding cake. But, every time I stopped by, my cousin either wasn't there, or the shop was closed. In the end, I sat down with another bakery's cake designer, and designed three simple cakes that are exactly what I wanted and for $10 less than what I had budgeted.
Truth is... I clean when I'm stressed/nervous/upset. Right now you could eat off the dash in my car.
Truth is... The preliminary results from the ultrasound show no new changes in the cysts. So, no surgery right now. Yeah! The rest of the ultrasounds/scans for the top half won't be finished until the 15th. So til then, we wait. *sigh*
Truth is... I'm going to start the boys room makeover this weekend. Really. I am. Really.
Truth is... Don't forget to check out Jewels's place tomorrow for my guest post. Feel free to bring your friends!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Thanks Baby...
Honey,
The other day I had escaped to the grocery store seeking the solace of 30 minutes to myself, and the thrill of getting four 1/2 gallons of ice cream for free, and I realized how many great things have happened in my life since you have happened upon it.
I felt so guilty.
Guilty, that I had not stopped to think of all the things you had given up, and would be giving up to be part of my life.
It was a life free, for the most part, of responsibility. Freedom to do what you wanted, whenever you wanted. Friendly with your ex wife, there were no skeletons left to fall from the closet. One son, old enough to come and go as he pleased, and easy enough to take on vacation anywhere. You could stay home and watch TV all day, no lawn to mow, no house to keep up with. Or, you could , after a few clicks of a mouse, be on a plane anywhere for the weekend, with anyone of your choosing.
Dinner could be from a five star restaurant, dined in or taken out. Or, instead, you could settle on a bag of popcorn and no one would be the wiser. No one would care if you didn't shower or wore the same pants twice.
It was simple, unencumbered, and uncomplicated.
Then you fell for me, and I took your unencumbered world, your life of leisure, packed it up, and sent it sky diving. We could go out, but only after I found a sitter. Many nights were cut short by having to get home for the kids. Phone calls were cut short and ears have been blown out with my shouts of "Can't you see I'm on the phone!". Date nights often end by picking up milk on the way home. Leisurely weekends watching four hours of Nascar have been interrupted by shuttling children to birthday parties, random episodes of "Dude What Would Happen...", and of course, the never ending home improvement project. Laundry has become our bonding time, real dancing has been replaced by the well choreographed "dinner" dance in the all-too-small kitchen, and getting frisky has been replaced by swatting a mosquito off my backside.
Slowly, you have had to find a place for all the elements of you within an already existing established household. Most of your movies have been subject to dreaded 'pre-screen', and rated R can only be viewed after 9pm. Every vacation revolves around a theme park of some kind. You car has evidence of children, your clothes evidence of my inept laundry abilities, and your wallet evidence of clothing a family of five.
And, you have done it all without complaint. Never wanting more than an occasional night out with the guys, or a weekend away with just me. You never hesitate to run errands, pick up a child, or clean up after the cat.
It is crazy, hectic, stressful, and exhausting life.
It is full of responsibility and tough decisions.
It involves a lot of yelling and letting things go.
I can not imagine what I bring to the table that makes you want to stay, and completely commit to everything that the Juli factor involves. But whatever the reason, I am thankful. Thankful that you not only chose to stay, but are really present through it all. Loving me, supporting me, and telling me to take off my cranky pants, because my butt looks way better in the smarty pants.
Thanks baby.
The other day I had escaped to the grocery store seeking the solace of 30 minutes to myself, and the thrill of getting four 1/2 gallons of ice cream for free, and I realized how many great things have happened in my life since you have happened upon it.
I felt so guilty.
Guilty, that I had not stopped to think of all the things you had given up, and would be giving up to be part of my life.
It was a life free, for the most part, of responsibility. Freedom to do what you wanted, whenever you wanted. Friendly with your ex wife, there were no skeletons left to fall from the closet. One son, old enough to come and go as he pleased, and easy enough to take on vacation anywhere. You could stay home and watch TV all day, no lawn to mow, no house to keep up with. Or, you could , after a few clicks of a mouse, be on a plane anywhere for the weekend, with anyone of your choosing.
Dinner could be from a five star restaurant, dined in or taken out. Or, instead, you could settle on a bag of popcorn and no one would be the wiser. No one would care if you didn't shower or wore the same pants twice.
It was simple, unencumbered, and uncomplicated.
Then you fell for me, and I took your unencumbered world, your life of leisure, packed it up, and sent it sky diving. We could go out, but only after I found a sitter. Many nights were cut short by having to get home for the kids. Phone calls were cut short and ears have been blown out with my shouts of "Can't you see I'm on the phone!". Date nights often end by picking up milk on the way home. Leisurely weekends watching four hours of Nascar have been interrupted by shuttling children to birthday parties, random episodes of "Dude What Would Happen...", and of course, the never ending home improvement project. Laundry has become our bonding time, real dancing has been replaced by the well choreographed "dinner" dance in the all-too-small kitchen, and getting frisky has been replaced by swatting a mosquito off my backside.
Slowly, you have had to find a place for all the elements of you within an already existing established household. Most of your movies have been subject to dreaded 'pre-screen', and rated R can only be viewed after 9pm. Every vacation revolves around a theme park of some kind. You car has evidence of children, your clothes evidence of my inept laundry abilities, and your wallet evidence of clothing a family of five.
And, you have done it all without complaint. Never wanting more than an occasional night out with the guys, or a weekend away with just me. You never hesitate to run errands, pick up a child, or clean up after the cat.
It is crazy, hectic, stressful, and exhausting life.
It is full of responsibility and tough decisions.
It involves a lot of yelling and letting things go.
I can not imagine what I bring to the table that makes you want to stay, and completely commit to everything that the Juli factor involves. But whatever the reason, I am thankful. Thankful that you not only chose to stay, but are really present through it all. Loving me, supporting me, and telling me to take off my cranky pants, because my butt looks way better in the smarty pants.
Thanks baby.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Random Tuesday Laziness...
"Today I just don't feel like doing anything, I just want to lay in my bed.
Don't feel like picking up the phone, so leave a message at the tone,
Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything....
...nothing at all."
Feel free to visit Stacy...
and link up.
Go ahead. We'll wait.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am almost ashamed to say that I got one of the ideas for my wedding from an overdone TLC wedding show. No it's not Gypsy weddings, and no, I'm not telling. It's one of the few details you'll just have to wait for.
Speaking of Gypsy weddings... does any one else wonder how they can afford a light up dress custom designed for them, and 12 horses to pull the carriage, but not a plot to park their trailer on? No? Just me I guess.
7 weeks to go!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've been having all kinds of girly issues lately.
I'm going tomorrow for an ultrasound to see if I will need to have my cysts surgically removed, or if they can just use their magical Jedi powers to shrink them. And since my psychotic hormones have prevented me from telling weather the lumpy bumpy-ness is normal or deadly, I'm also going to get the girls smooshed as well. Not looking forward to it since my regular doctor is not available, and I have to drive over an hour away to see a guy doctor.
*sigh*
I love being a girl, but sometimes it's just a pain in the boobs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My quick weekend to the hot air balloon festival has become a family caravan. My sister's coming with her two kids, and both my parents. I keep telling my Dad to get out the old CB radios and we can caravan like the old days, but he's not going for it. It's just not the same with cell phones. They just don't deliver the same "Breaker, Breaker, Good Buddy" static that the old CB's did. Almost Hubs is staying home, enjoying the peace and quiet of an empty house. He's gonna be bored out of his skull.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm doing a guest post for Jewels over at Jewels Turning 30. It posts on Friday, (I think, unless I've screwed up this date as well, and if that's the case, no one will ever let me guest post again.) but feel free to check her out early.
She's got the bar stocked, the tunes are jamming, and I'll drive you all home afterwards.
:)
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Things Not Found In The Mom Handbook...
I've been at this Mom gig for, oh, about 11 years now. And, despite the the two hospitals I gave birth in, who forgot to send me home with a hard cover, water proof version of the Mom handbook, my children have survived thus far unscathed. Mostly. Now, through the years I have managed to gather multiple books regarding the rearing of children as well as spent countless hours watching Sesame Street, being criticized, tuning into MT-V's Teen Mom, on the web searching technical stuff life saving information. Yet somehow, I had to stumble upon a few things the hard way. Thinks like...
...The "wait and see how it is in the morning" approach works for most non life threatening injuries. Falling out of bed, wounded pride, most scrapes, and random boo boos, are usually fine after a bag of ice, some Neosporin, and ice cream. After 11 years, I am convinced that Neosporin and ice cream can cure most everything short of a brain tumor. Honest. However, the wait and see is not a good plan on large gashes that self seal. Seems, even though the bleeding stops, some still require stitches and therefore need to be stitched within 8 hours to avoid infection. Otherwise you're left with a nasty scar, which is just as permanent as a tattoo, but with a better story. (Of how your Mom neglected you and left you there. to. die.!.!)
....Children are born with the natural ability to breath, eat, poop, and contort. As soon as they can move freely, they will wedge themselves into the teeny, tiniest of places to avoid your wrath and/or scare the bejesus out of you. They are also born without knee caps. Instead they have a fleshy, alien goo flexible substance that will later harden into a knee cap. This is how they can crawl all over the place, at high speed, and destroy everything in their 18" high path with a giggle and a smirk. Don't try to get down on the floor and crawl around with them. because you have knee caps and may not be able to get back up. Instead, just lay down and let them crawl all over you. And, you'll be dead tired anyways, so laying down and giving up really expedites the inevitable.
....Only threaten "Don't make me come in there!" unless you A) mean it. and B) can actually get in "there". If you threaten, and then proceed to sit on the couch and yell, they'll never take you seriously. If you threaten to get in the actual giant play land, make sure you can get out of the play land. Because, when you get stuck in the ball pit and panic, they will also never take you seriously again. And, I can tell youfrom experience that getting stuck in the big red swirly slide never ends well.
....Everyone will put a label on your child from the instant they are born. They label their bassinets, their arm bracelet, their belongings. Later they'll label their learning style, their habits, progression, and personalities. Then, they'll move on to their clothing styles, music choices, and recreational activities. What they don't tell you about these labels, is that they will only stick to the people who allow them to stick. If your child believes with conviction that they can be anything despite these labels weighing them down, the labels will fall off, leaving only the true uninhibited beauty of their natural born abilities shining through.
So there you have it.
Four things I have learned the hard way.
How about you?
What is missing from your parenting handbook?
...The "wait and see how it is in the morning" approach works for most non life threatening injuries. Falling out of bed, wounded pride, most scrapes, and random boo boos, are usually fine after a bag of ice, some Neosporin, and ice cream. After 11 years, I am convinced that Neosporin and ice cream can cure most everything short of a brain tumor. Honest. However, the wait and see is not a good plan on large gashes that self seal. Seems, even though the bleeding stops, some still require stitches and therefore need to be stitched within 8 hours to avoid infection. Otherwise you're left with a nasty scar, which is just as permanent as a tattoo, but with a better story. (
....Children are born with the natural ability to breath, eat, poop, and contort. As soon as they can move freely, they will wedge themselves into the teeny, tiniest of places to avoid your wrath and/or scare the bejesus out of you. They are also born without knee caps. Instead they have a fleshy,
....Only threaten "Don't make me come in there!" unless you A) mean it. and B) can actually get in "there". If you threaten, and then proceed to sit on the couch and yell, they'll never take you seriously. If you threaten to get in the actual giant play land, make sure you can get out of the play land. Because, when you get stuck in the ball pit and panic, they will also never take you seriously again. And, I can tell you
....Everyone will put a label on your child from the instant they are born. They label their bassinets, their arm bracelet, their belongings. Later they'll label their learning style, their habits, progression, and personalities. Then, they'll move on to their clothing styles, music choices, and recreational activities. What they don't tell you about these labels, is that they will only stick to the people who allow them to stick. If your child believes with conviction that they can be anything despite these labels weighing them down, the labels will fall off, leaving only the true uninhibited beauty of their natural born abilities shining through.
So there you have it.
Four things I have learned the hard way.
How about you?
What is missing from your parenting handbook?
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Is There An App For That?...
I finally caved a while back and delved into the world of multi media and got a smart phone with limited Internet capabilities. I opted for the Blackberry torch since I was previously familiar with Blackberry. But I opted out of any apps. I don't get them. Really? Do I need an app that tells everyone where I am at every second of the day, on Face Book no less? If I want you to know where I am, I'll call you and invite you to come.
But the other day I was thinking...
If they made an app for an infrared light that shines a beam from the dash of the car straight down the center of the back seat of the car, creating a barrier between my children, I'd consider it. Then, if it was all part of a game, that calculated when one of the children's hands, head, feet, or random spit ball crosses the beam, and point was scored for the other side, it could eliminate much of the "He's touching me!" from the back seat.
Now, if they can create an app that has a frequency that disables my children's whining voice, that would be amazing. You know? That frequency that only your child can conjure up, usually when you're on the phone or at the grocery store. An app that could completely drown that out like white noise would be awesome.
Or, how about a blue light beam like the ones they use for facials? I could do my favorite at home mask, bring up the app, and zap all that pesky bacteria that causes break outs. There could be some serious money in an app like that.
And if they could create an app that turned my phone into a taser forannoying encounters with fake Barbie Doll women emergencies only of course...
Oh yeah, I'd buy an app for that.
But the other day I was thinking...
If they made an app for an infrared light that shines a beam from the dash of the car straight down the center of the back seat of the car, creating a barrier between my children, I'd consider it. Then, if it was all part of a game, that calculated when one of the children's hands, head, feet, or random spit ball crosses the beam, and point was scored for the other side, it could eliminate much of the "He's touching me!" from the back seat.
Now, if they can create an app that has a frequency that disables my children's whining voice, that would be amazing. You know? That frequency that only your child can conjure up, usually when you're on the phone or at the grocery store. An app that could completely drown that out like white noise would be awesome.
Or, how about a blue light beam like the ones they use for facials? I could do my favorite at home mask, bring up the app, and zap all that pesky bacteria that causes break outs. There could be some serious money in an app like that.
And if they could create an app that turned my phone into a taser for
Oh yeah, I'd buy an app for that.
Truth Is Thursday...
Truth is... I think watermelon might be my favorite part of the summer.
Truth is... I'm a worrier. Every week while out delivering mail, I see an older couple walking down the same stretch of road with traffic whizzing by them at over 50mph. There are no sidewalks and I worry that they will get sucked into the road by some kid in his Mommy's BMW. Yesterday, while making incredible time, I passed them on the same side of the road, and noticed the man carries a rosary with him. I don't think I have to worry about him any more.
Truth is... I find it ironic that a star of the "Jackass" movies died while committing the ultimate act of stupidity. Way to go out... doing what you love.
Truth is... I took the kids to the Circus yesterday after workbecause my life isn't enough of a Circus, and I think we could have had a much better time if it wasn't for the Brazilian Barbie Doll woman in front of us and her obnoxious family. Really lady? Did we have to call over every vendor to stand in front of my nine year old during the show and buy every stinking thing they had? And, last time I checked it was rude to let your children hit other people with their $20 light saber. I'd have said something, but you clearly could not understood civilized English.
*sigh*
Truth is... Cartoons just aren't what they used to be. Youngest and I watched a Looney Tunes marathon the other day and I thought, "Now why don't they make cartoons like this anymore?"
(Only exception... Phineas & Ferb. I so need an -inator... and a non-venomous platypus.)
Truth is... While CBG was confessing her sins on Sunday, all I have retained is that she has to pay a quarter to get a shopping cart at the grocery store. You know? Like they do at the air port and the mall? It's a genius idea, but I'd be the one who could never find a quarter.
Truth is... there's been an insurgence of spiders around here lately. They love the mail truck. And, jumping out of mailboxes into your lap. Especially the big black fuzzy ones. Did I mention I'm really allergic? Bees too. Yeah, not the best career choice.
Truth is... A gnat flew up my nose while I was delivering mail. Blow as I might, that sucker was not coming out. I finally had to stop somewhere, get napkins and remove him, um, the old fashioned way.
Truth is... I think that just may be too much information.
Truth is... I'm a worrier. Every week while out delivering mail, I see an older couple walking down the same stretch of road with traffic whizzing by them at over 50mph. There are no sidewalks and I worry that they will get sucked into the road by some kid in his Mommy's BMW. Yesterday, while making incredible time, I passed them on the same side of the road, and noticed the man carries a rosary with him. I don't think I have to worry about him any more.
Truth is... I find it ironic that a star of the "Jackass" movies died while committing the ultimate act of stupidity. Way to go out... doing what you love.
Truth is... I took the kids to the Circus yesterday after work
*sigh*
Truth is... Cartoons just aren't what they used to be. Youngest and I watched a Looney Tunes marathon the other day and I thought, "Now why don't they make cartoons like this anymore?"
(Only exception... Phineas & Ferb. I so need an -inator... and a non-venomous platypus.)
Truth is... While CBG was confessing her sins on Sunday, all I have retained is that she has to pay a quarter to get a shopping cart at the grocery store. You know? Like they do at the air port and the mall? It's a genius idea, but I'd be the one who could never find a quarter.
Truth is... there's been an insurgence of spiders around here lately. They love the mail truck. And, jumping out of mailboxes into your lap. Especially the big black fuzzy ones. Did I mention I'm really allergic? Bees too. Yeah, not the best career choice.
Truth is... A gnat flew up my nose while I was delivering mail. Blow as I might, that sucker was not coming out. I finally had to stop somewhere, get napkins and remove him, um, the old fashioned way.
Truth is... I think that just may be too much information.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Circle Of Life, Grocery Store Embarrassment, And for Pete's Sake, Bubble Wrap That Kid...
Haven't really been able to get my blogging on lately, so I thought I'd join up with Stacy for Random Thought Tuesday...
...She's holding down fort "RTT" until the zombies return with the Un-Mom. Go ahead an click the button to join in the fun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Day One of summer and we're already off to the doctor's to see if Youngest needs stitches.
Seems he fell again, this time biting his bottom lip from the middle all the way to the corner of his mouth. It is unclear weather he bit it with his top teeth (it's in a half moon shape) or if it was a pressure split from the impact of his knee.
And where was Almost Hubs? Plying video games in the bedroom.
Two hours later, while playing basketball with his friend, he got elbowed in the eye.
Saturday he also fell walking down the front stairs. The brick stairs. He has several scrapes down his arm, some on his back along his spine, and a HUGE bruise/scrape across his butt from where he hit the previous stair. Almost Hubs was 10 feet away watching sports. He had no idea what had happened until he came in the house crying so hard he needed to puke.
Needless to say, when I walked into the doctor's office I felt I needed to add the "I swear I don't beat him" disclaimer to every statement. And Almost Hubs is no longer allowed multi media capabilities when he's in charge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's Almost Hubs Birthday today. He's um,going to kill me for saying this, older than me.
A incredibly fabulous post will follow just as soon as I'm out of my funk, but until then, I pay him tribute with this...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oldest wandered into the laundry room the other night hoping toget out of going to bed have a private conversation with me. Because that's where all the best conversations are had, right?
"Mom? Were you sad when you caught your first fish."
"Um, no."
"What about when you had to kill it?"
"Yeah, I was. I didn't have to watch it though. I like to eat fish and meat, but I don't want to be a part of killing it. But... it is like the circle of life buddy."
"It's heart was still beating Mom... I saw it."
"Sad."
"Yeah."
"But that's why there's animals on this planet, to help us stay nourished and grow."
"Will you take me fishing this summer?"
"Of course. Maybe we'll go on one of the boats in the harbor."
"Yeah. But, this time I want to use the guy on the dock that kills it for you, and then gives it to you in a package of white paper with no blood on it. Cuz' it is just the circle of life."
*play beginning sound track of Lion King here*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I spent my $10 off your next order coupon on Sunday.
This is what over $300 looks like in one of the most expensive areas of the country...
We had two carts going. People were looking at us funny. When the receipt hit the floor, I hung my head in embarrassment.
But only spending $157 out of pocket made for a day well spent at Shaws...
....and with Youngest, who claimed he had "a really great day" with me.
He's my coupon prodigy.
...She's holding down fort "RTT" until the zombies return with the Un-Mom. Go ahead an click the button to join in the fun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Day One of summer and we're already off to the doctor's to see if Youngest needs stitches.
Seems he fell again, this time biting his bottom lip from the middle all the way to the corner of his mouth. It is unclear weather he bit it with his top teeth (it's in a half moon shape) or if it was a pressure split from the impact of his knee.
And where was Almost Hubs? Plying video games in the bedroom.
Two hours later, while playing basketball with his friend, he got elbowed in the eye.
Saturday he also fell walking down the front stairs. The brick stairs. He has several scrapes down his arm, some on his back along his spine, and a HUGE bruise/scrape across his butt from where he hit the previous stair. Almost Hubs was 10 feet away watching sports. He had no idea what had happened until he came in the house crying so hard he needed to puke.
Needless to say, when I walked into the doctor's office I felt I needed to add the "I swear I don't beat him" disclaimer to every statement. And Almost Hubs is no longer allowed multi media capabilities when he's in charge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's Almost Hubs Birthday today. He's um,
A incredibly fabulous post will follow just as soon as I'm out of my funk, but until then, I pay him tribute with this...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oldest wandered into the laundry room the other night hoping to
"Mom? Were you sad when you caught your first fish."
"Um, no."
"What about when you had to kill it?"
"Yeah, I was. I didn't have to watch it though. I like to eat fish and meat, but I don't want to be a part of killing it. But... it is like the circle of life buddy."
"It's heart was still beating Mom... I saw it."
"Sad."
"Yeah."
"But that's why there's animals on this planet, to help us stay nourished and grow."
"Will you take me fishing this summer?"
"Of course. Maybe we'll go on one of the boats in the harbor."
"Yeah. But, this time I want to use the guy on the dock that kills it for you, and then gives it to you in a package of white paper with no blood on it. Cuz' it is just the circle of life."
*play beginning sound track of Lion King here*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I spent my $10 off your next order coupon on Sunday.
This is what over $300 looks like in one of the most expensive areas of the country...
 |
| 7 Live lobsters, (2) GF Bread, GF cookies, (2) Magnum Bars, various produce, 2 pks. sliced cheese, 2 Danimals Yogurts, 6 ears corn, 1 gallon ice cream |
 |
| (4) marinades and dressings, (2) 1/2 gal milk, 2 bx pop tarts,Fluff, 4 100ct. Advil, (2) glad cling wrap, 2 4pks activia yogurt, 2 stick butter, 2 lbs bacon, 1 Jello pudding pack, 1 Hershey bar, 1 pk of Tic Tacs |
 |
| 4 toothbrushes, 2 toothpastes, 3 can mandarin oranges, 4 jars sauce, 4 men's razors |
 |
| 40 bottles of Powerade... that we WILL drink before summer's over. |
We had two carts going. People were looking at us funny. When the receipt hit the floor, I hung my head in embarrassment.
But only spending $157 out of pocket made for a day well spent at Shaws...
....and with Youngest, who claimed he had "a really great day" with me.
He's my coupon prodigy.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Father Of The Moment...
More often than not, the boy's father disappoints. He gets one visit with each son, individually, for three hours, on the first and third weekend of the month. And while there's was a lot of digging to get him into the hole he's in, there will be equally as much digging and a far more difficult climb to get out. So this is the time he gets with them. Period. And most of the time, he screws it up weather by his own ignorance, or by some cosmic black cloud that follows him everywhere.
This was the case yesterday, when Oldest was to go for his first visit with him in four months. Two minutes from drop off, the text comes that he can not make the visit. Oldest is devastated, and brought to tears in the back of the car. We try to make the best of the rest of the night, as always, but his heart is broken, and in turn, mine is as well. Their father can no longer hurt me himself, but in their anguish, my heart is easily broken, torn from my body, stomped on, and carried away by crows.
OK. Maybe not like that, but you get the picture. Typically, I do not give him a new opportunity, for this has in the past led to many new issues and disappointments with the boys. But today, being Father's day,and me dreading taking two children solo to the grocery store, I offered up a three hour morning visit.
He took him fishing.
REAL fishing.
On the dock, salt water, watch the sea worms bite your father's fingers, fishing.
There was no girlfriend or pesky girlfriend's daughter.
Just the guys, a bait shop, and a couple of lines.
And in five minutes my son had caught the first real fish of his life...
...a 28 inch Stripped Bass.
And in just under three hours,
he caught probably the best memory he has ever had with his Father.
This was the case yesterday, when Oldest was to go for his first visit with him in four months. Two minutes from drop off, the text comes that he can not make the visit. Oldest is devastated, and brought to tears in the back of the car. We try to make the best of the rest of the night, as always, but his heart is broken, and in turn, mine is as well. Their father can no longer hurt me himself, but in their anguish, my heart is easily broken, torn from my body, stomped on, and carried away by crows.
OK. Maybe not like that, but you get the picture. Typically, I do not give him a new opportunity, for this has in the past led to many new issues and disappointments with the boys. But today, being Father's day,
He took him fishing.
REAL fishing.
On the dock, salt water, watch the sea worms bite your father's fingers, fishing.
There was no girlfriend or pesky girlfriend's daughter.
Just the guys, a bait shop, and a couple of lines.
And in five minutes my son had caught the first real fish of his life...
And in just under three hours,
he caught probably the best memory he has ever had with his Father.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Truth Is Thursday...
Truth is... I was elated beyond words today when I stopped for a water at the grocery store and noticed someone had left behind a instant coupon at the register. It was for $10 off your next order. Let me say this again... elated beyond words. I really need to get out more.
Truth is... I am really looking forward to going to the hot air balloon festival in New Hampshire. The last time I took the kids, Youngest was in a stroller and I had to keep Oldest on a leash, literally. Skip the hate mail folks, he looks at the pictures now and thinks it's hysterical.
Truth is... I can't blame Burrows for biting Bergeron. I too, find him yummy. :)
Truth is... I only have 10 weeks left of being a single woman. I feel as though I need to do something wild and crazy like.
Truth is... I drank way too much caffeine today, thus resulting in a lot of little things getting done around the house. Great for the to-do list, not so good for sleeping.
Truth is... I have been trying to stay somewhat reserved here about the Stanley Cup playoffs. But now that it's over, I just would like to say....
You think with all the wild life up there in Canada, they'd know not to poke the bears.
Truth is... I am really looking forward to going to the hot air balloon festival in New Hampshire. The last time I took the kids, Youngest was in a stroller and I had to keep Oldest on a leash, literally. Skip the hate mail folks, he looks at the pictures now and thinks it's hysterical.
Truth is... I can't blame Burrows for biting Bergeron. I too, find him yummy. :)
Truth is... I only have 10 weeks left of being a single woman. I feel as though I need to do something wild and crazy like.
Truth is... I drank way too much caffeine today, thus resulting in a lot of little things getting done around the house. Great for the to-do list, not so good for sleeping.
Truth is... I have been trying to stay somewhat reserved here about the Stanley Cup playoffs. But now that it's over, I just would like to say....
You think with all the wild life up there in Canada, they'd know not to poke the bears.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Parenting Woes...
I had to leave work today because Youngest had an "issue". Basically, today was field day. 712 kids running around, fiercely bent on competition, and a 1 to 19 parent child ratio. Needless to say, this was not a good scenario for any child in the Autistic Spectrum.
It was completely out of routine.
It was loud.
It was fiercely competitive.
His team wasn't winning.
There was no one available to help work this through for him.
After escaping from the fields twice, I was called to come get him. Put simply, his bee line out of the chaos was leading him towards the main road outside the school. The second escape was cut off about 20 feet from 50 mph traffic. He's 9, and knows better than to run through it, but not during a fit.
Upon picking him up, he had already regrouped, and already gone to lunch and recess. His behavior was stellar from that point on, but due to the lack of staffing, it was decided he should go home. He hung his head in the Principal's office utterly defeated. These are the moments I wish I had the ability to home school him. In Massachusetts, it's just not feasible to home school and work full time. He came home with me, we watched Looney Tunes, made cookies, and ate ice cream.
*sigh*
Oldest has made several comments about how he doesn't think I love him. I realize that this is a cry for attention, but I have to say it's getting annoying. I have tried to spend extra time with him, tried to reassure him, but still the comments persist.
And, he's had another growth spurt. The second this month. I guess I'll just add that to the already too long list of things to do tomorrow.
*double sigh*
Almost Hubs has been having issues with Bonus Brother not preforming in school. He gets no where with his conversations, and while he and his ex get along quite well, he is not there everyday to reinforce what needs to happen. She has the best of intentions, but follow through is not always her strong suit. Which inevitably leaves them both going around in a circle, and Bonus Brother slips right through the ring.
Where am I in all this? I'm not. I'm not his mother. In fact, I have found that it's the only thing that Almost Hubs and I can not discuss openly. He talks, I listen, offer suggestions, and hold 95% of what I really think back. I hate it, but it's best for our relationship. When he's frustrated, things get taken the wrong way and blown way out of proportion. But, at the end of the day, even though I'm not his mother, I still want the same things for Bonus Brother as I do for the boys.
Being "nothing" to him really sucks sometimes.
So there you have it. So far today I'm batting 0 for 3.
Thank God this isn't the Stanley Cup of parenthood.
But if someone would like to bring over a margarita glass of motherhood, I'd gladly take it.
It was completely out of routine.
It was loud.
It was fiercely competitive.
His team wasn't winning.
There was no one available to help work this through for him.
After escaping from the fields twice, I was called to come get him. Put simply, his bee line out of the chaos was leading him towards the main road outside the school. The second escape was cut off about 20 feet from 50 mph traffic. He's 9, and knows better than to run through it, but not during a fit.
Upon picking him up, he had already regrouped, and already gone to lunch and recess. His behavior was stellar from that point on, but due to the lack of staffing, it was decided he should go home. He hung his head in the Principal's office utterly defeated. These are the moments I wish I had the ability to home school him. In Massachusetts, it's just not feasible to home school and work full time. He came home with me, we watched Looney Tunes, made cookies, and ate ice cream.
*sigh*
Oldest has made several comments about how he doesn't think I love him. I realize that this is a cry for attention, but I have to say it's getting annoying. I have tried to spend extra time with him, tried to reassure him, but still the comments persist.
And, he's had another growth spurt. The second this month. I guess I'll just add that to the already too long list of things to do tomorrow.
*double sigh*
Almost Hubs has been having issues with Bonus Brother not preforming in school. He gets no where with his conversations, and while he and his ex get along quite well, he is not there everyday to reinforce what needs to happen. She has the best of intentions, but follow through is not always her strong suit. Which inevitably leaves them both going around in a circle, and Bonus Brother slips right through the ring.
Where am I in all this? I'm not. I'm not his mother. In fact, I have found that it's the only thing that Almost Hubs and I can not discuss openly. He talks, I listen, offer suggestions, and hold 95% of what I really think back. I hate it, but it's best for our relationship. When he's frustrated, things get taken the wrong way and blown way out of proportion. But, at the end of the day, even though I'm not his mother, I still want the same things for Bonus Brother as I do for the boys.
Being "nothing" to him really sucks sometimes.
So there you have it. So far today I'm batting 0 for 3.
Thank God this isn't the Stanley Cup of parenthood.
But if someone would like to bring over a margarita glass of motherhood, I'd gladly take it.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Curves...
For centuries men have painted them.
The large voluptuous curves of a woman's body. Their careful shading and gentle coloring, give away every detail and contour of the model's body. Done so carefully, so exquisitely, that the essence of her beauty exudes itself from the canvas.
Even in the most rudimentary 1940s sailor drawing pin ups, the female form is accentuated and adorned with curves. Marilyn Monroe, one of the most revered sex symbols ever, was a size 12.
The round tautness of the pregnant belly and fullness of the mother's breasts, photographed proudly and displayed on the cover of magazines. A sight of beauty and love, not to be hidden amongst the centerfold of the magazine or behind brown paper. Later, the chubby cheeks and perfectly dimpled bottom of the baby once cradled in that belly, adorns the front cover as well. Both images of perfect beauty. Not a size, not a weight, but a vision of health, love, and of life.
Millions of dollars have been spent trying to replicate these curves. We even go so far as to manufacture these curves, over and over, in things that demand presence and attention. The fine sports car, with it's sleek lines and rolling fenders. The way each panel of it's body hugs the next in a seamless line of function and beauty.
I am not a size 6, and yet, I have never felt so comfortable in my own skin. I have curves, dimples, and imperfections. My body has been used, exhausted, refreshed, and renewed. I can accentuate, or not, depending on the day. I am loved inside and out, and I feel sexy.
But lately, I have found myself doubting that self-assurance, and wondering if my curves are not as beautiful as I perceive them to be. My back aches from the twisting of another restless night's sleep. My "cup" runs over and results in constant repositioning and shimming back into my delicate unmentionables throughout the day. The rubbing and irritation of skin on skin that isn't attributed to smoldering kisses and a passionate embrace.
I wonder a lot, if it's time to redefine these curves of mine.
Maybe it's time to make them not just beautiful, but exquisite.
The large voluptuous curves of a woman's body. Their careful shading and gentle coloring, give away every detail and contour of the model's body. Done so carefully, so exquisitely, that the essence of her beauty exudes itself from the canvas.
Even in the most rudimentary 1940s sailor drawing pin ups, the female form is accentuated and adorned with curves. Marilyn Monroe, one of the most revered sex symbols ever, was a size 12.
The round tautness of the pregnant belly and fullness of the mother's breasts, photographed proudly and displayed on the cover of magazines. A sight of beauty and love, not to be hidden amongst the centerfold of the magazine or behind brown paper. Later, the chubby cheeks and perfectly dimpled bottom of the baby once cradled in that belly, adorns the front cover as well. Both images of perfect beauty. Not a size, not a weight, but a vision of health, love, and of life.
Millions of dollars have been spent trying to replicate these curves. We even go so far as to manufacture these curves, over and over, in things that demand presence and attention. The fine sports car, with it's sleek lines and rolling fenders. The way each panel of it's body hugs the next in a seamless line of function and beauty.
I am not a size 6, and yet, I have never felt so comfortable in my own skin. I have curves, dimples, and imperfections. My body has been used, exhausted, refreshed, and renewed. I can accentuate, or not, depending on the day. I am loved inside and out, and I feel sexy.
But lately, I have found myself doubting that self-assurance, and wondering if my curves are not as beautiful as I perceive them to be. My back aches from the twisting of another restless night's sleep. My "cup" runs over and results in constant repositioning and shimming back into my delicate unmentionables throughout the day. The rubbing and irritation of skin on skin that isn't attributed to smoldering kisses and a passionate embrace.
I wonder a lot, if it's time to redefine these curves of mine.
Maybe it's time to make them not just beautiful, but exquisite.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
More Conversations With The Kids...
Oldest: "If a giant spit on us, it would be huge spit."
Me: "OK."
Oldest: "And it would be sticky."
Me: "Sticky?"
Oldest: "Yeah."
Me: "Excellent."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Youngest: "You know Cookie Monster gets crazy over all those cookies. But the real problem is...who's supplying those cookies."
Oldest: "They tried giving him vegetables."
Youngest: "Yeah, but that didn't work and then somebody went back to supplying him cookies."
Me: "So who gave him the cookies ya think?"
Youngest: "Probably his mother."
Me: "So his mother's his enabler?"
Both: "Yup. It's his mother."
Further proof that us mom's are only out to ruin our children's lives.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Youngest: "I wonder why he's cutting through our neighborhood."
Me: "Maybe he lives on one of the side streets and he's going into one of the other neighborhoods."
Youngest: "Maybe."
Me: "We really have no idea where he's going."
Youngest: "Yeah. He could be going to a secret lair, where he'll plan an evil take over of world domination"
Me: "Could be, buddy. Could be."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Conversation through the bathroom door, because no place is sacred...
Youngest: "Mom, I want to show you something."
Me: "No. I'm using the bathroom and then taking a shower."
Youngest: "But I need to show you this piece of bacon. It looks like a monster."
Me: "Well then you'd better eat it."
Youngest: "No really, it looks like a fish on the bottom with a dinosaur head."
Me: "Is it a carnivore?"
Youngest: "Maybe... I think so."
Me: "Well, quick, you'd better eat it before there's trouble."
Update: Bacon was eaten, dinosaur takeover threat avoided, shower was fabulous and undisturbed.
Me: "OK."
Oldest: "And it would be sticky."
Me: "Sticky?"
Oldest: "Yeah."
Me: "Excellent."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Youngest: "You know Cookie Monster gets crazy over all those cookies. But the real problem is...who's supplying those cookies."
Oldest: "They tried giving him vegetables."
Youngest: "Yeah, but that didn't work and then somebody went back to supplying him cookies."
Me: "So who gave him the cookies ya think?"
Youngest: "Probably his mother."
Me: "So his mother's his enabler?"
Both: "Yup. It's his mother."
Further proof that us mom's are only out to ruin our children's lives.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Youngest: "I wonder why he's cutting through our neighborhood."
Me: "Maybe he lives on one of the side streets and he's going into one of the other neighborhoods."
Youngest: "Maybe."
Me: "We really have no idea where he's going."
Youngest: "Yeah. He could be going to a secret lair, where he'll plan an evil take over of world domination"
Me: "Could be, buddy. Could be."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Conversation through the bathroom door, because no place is sacred...
Youngest: "Mom, I want to show you something."
Me: "No. I'm using the bathroom and then taking a shower."
Youngest: "But I need to show you this piece of bacon. It looks like a monster."
Me: "Well then you'd better eat it."
Youngest: "No really, it looks like a fish on the bottom with a dinosaur head."
Me: "Is it a carnivore?"
Youngest: "Maybe... I think so."
Me: "Well, quick, you'd better eat it before there's trouble."
Update: Bacon was eaten, dinosaur takeover threat avoided, shower was fabulous and undisturbed.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Going Postal...Stick A Fork In Me...
Remember way back in Science class when they taught you that darker colors absorbed light and heat, where as lighter colors deflected it? Now, if your school chose to teach this later in the school year, this principal would be demonstrated by cooking a hot dog inside a dark foil lined cardboard box on a very sunny day. Well, I have discovered the only exception to this darker/lighter heat transfer principal.
I give you... the mail truck.
Despite it's reflective color, make no mistake, this baby can cook a hot dog in two minutes flat or, a full size person in about five hours.
Why you ask?
First, lets take a look at the anatomy of the mail truck. It has a very manly four cylinder engine under the hood. Nope, no need for unnecessary Hemis here folks, it only needs to go 10mph, or 45 on the highway. Four tires, flashing lights, one seat, and a whole lot of sheet metal. Basically, it's an empty can of Coke, on wheels, with a snazzy paint scheme.
Ever leave a can of Coke in your car on a warm day?
The emptiness allows for maximum heat retention, allowing it to quickly obtain the optimal cooking temperature of a blazing inferno. See the "vents" in the back of the truck? Yes, those are for letting out excess steam, necessary to avoid messy spontaneous combustion.
The cab is an entirely different story. You have these large glass windows that crank down if you're lucky to thoroughly coat every surface of the truck, and the front of your teeth, with "seasonings" of dust, pollen, dirt, and microscopic metal flakes. The passenger window is only permitted to be rolled down 6 inches, as to not allow for "fly aways". The big windshield optimizes the UV rays necessary for broiling. Oh, but wait! To properly ensure that the heat is distributed evenly, a high tech fan has been installed in every truck. A convection current will occur if used properly. If not, it will shred your grocery fliers to bits and pieces.
To ensure that you are properly basted, you are encouraged to bring water with you. When stowed properly on the floor of the truck, it will also heat up to an internal temperature of 130 degrees, thanks to the radiant heat from the mechanics underneath. There is one other fan on the truck, it controls the heat and defrost, which will never work in the winter, but ironically will never shut off in the summer.
So now that you know what kind of oven you're using, let's talk about the main dish.
Insert one extra juicy mail lady, who is already running hot, due to the lack of air conditioning in the warehouse she's been working in for the past two hours. Add too this, 95 degree sunshine, 97% humidity, and an extra 2 hours of mail deliverybecause someone wanted to go to the beach.
In the first hour, she's just happy to be out on the road, away from the co-worker cranky that infects the office. Hour two, she is still laughing off comments of "It's too nice to be working." and "It's a hot one today." But by hour three, she's wavering, starting to see tiny stars, and showers herself with her 130 degree water. Hour four brings on the worst case of chub rub ever, and thoughts of ripping off every item of clothing that is inflicting irritability. We won't discuss what happens in hour five. It's not pretty.
Now, while cooking time varies, it will be easy to tell when she's done.
She will not want to talk to anyone.
She will definitely not want to discuss how hot it was.
She will not want to cook dinner, help with homework, or snuggle.
She will want a cold shower, lots of Neosporin for the intolerable chub rub, and ice water.
And, air conditioning.
It's going to be a long summer.
Leave me a frozen water in the box, will ya?
I give you... the mail truck.
 |
| photo from federaltimes.com |
Why you ask?
First, lets take a look at the anatomy of the mail truck. It has a very manly four cylinder engine under the hood. Nope, no need for unnecessary Hemis here folks, it only needs to go 10mph, or 45 on the highway. Four tires, flashing lights, one seat, and a whole lot of sheet metal. Basically, it's an empty can of Coke, on wheels, with a snazzy paint scheme.
Ever leave a can of Coke in your car on a warm day?
The emptiness allows for maximum heat retention, allowing it to quickly obtain the optimal cooking temperature of a blazing inferno. See the "vents" in the back of the truck? Yes, those are for letting out excess steam, necessary to avoid messy spontaneous combustion.
The cab is an entirely different story. You have these large glass windows that crank down
To ensure that you are properly basted, you are encouraged to bring water with you. When stowed properly on the floor of the truck, it will also heat up to an internal temperature of 130 degrees, thanks to the radiant heat from the mechanics underneath. There is one other fan on the truck, it controls the heat and defrost, which will never work in the winter, but ironically will never shut off in the summer.
So now that you know what kind of oven you're using, let's talk about the main dish.
Insert one extra juicy mail lady, who is already running hot, due to the lack of air conditioning in the warehouse she's been working in for the past two hours. Add too this, 95 degree sunshine, 97% humidity, and an extra 2 hours of mail delivery
In the first hour, she's just happy to be out on the road, away from the co-worker cranky that infects the office. Hour two, she is still laughing off comments of "It's too nice to be working." and "It's a hot one today." But by hour three, she's wavering, starting to see tiny stars, and showers herself with her 130 degree water. Hour four brings on the worst case of chub rub ever, and thoughts of ripping off every item of clothing that is inflicting irritability. We won't discuss what happens in hour five. It's not pretty.
Now, while cooking time varies, it will be easy to tell when she's done.
She will not want to talk to anyone.
She will definitely not want to discuss how hot it was.
She will not want to cook dinner, help with homework, or snuggle.
She will want a cold shower, lots of Neosporin for the intolerable chub rub, and ice water.
And, air conditioning.
It's going to be a long summer.
Leave me a frozen water in the box, will ya?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
How Productive...
Today I got a pedicure.
I had a leisurely lunch with my Mom.
I also walked to school to pick up Youngest and walk him home.
We had a good conversation about the robot he wanted to make with the trash he was finding on the side of the road, discovered why fallen tree branches have lines on them, and narrowly escaped the high grass ridden with ticks.
I did not...
seal the driveway.
deliver mail.
touch up the paint in the bathroom.
replace the drawer slide in the kitchen.
water the lawn.
work in the flowerbeds.
finish the laundry.
work on wedding stuff.
get an oil change.
clean the bathroom.
wash dishes.
mop floors.
pay bills.
return emails.
cook dinner.
grocery shop.
demo the basement.
dust.
IT . WAS. AWESOME.
I had a leisurely lunch with my Mom.
I also walked to school to pick up Youngest and walk him home.
We had a good conversation about the robot he wanted to make with the trash he was finding on the side of the road, discovered why fallen tree branches have lines on them, and narrowly escaped the high grass ridden with ticks.
I did not...
seal the driveway.
deliver mail.
touch up the paint in the bathroom.
replace the drawer slide in the kitchen.
water the lawn.
work in the flowerbeds.
finish the laundry.
work on wedding stuff.
get an oil change.
clean the bathroom.
wash dishes.
mop floors.
pay bills.
return emails.
cook dinner.
grocery shop.
demo the basement.
dust.
IT . WAS. AWESOME.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Slowing Down....
When I was four or five I built my own house inside my room. It had "rooms" made from blankets, pillows, sheets and just about anything else you could build walls out of. It even had a bathroom until my Mom found out, I decided a better idea would be to build a tunnel to the bathroom in the actual house about ten feet from my bedroom. It was awesome. Even then, I couldn't wait to move out and start my own life.
Growing up I always had a plan. I was always reaching for the next thing, and pushing the limits. Every day, my feet hit the floor running. I started working at 12. I got my permit the day I turned 16. I had my licence at exactly 16 and a half. My car? I had bought it with my own money at 15. I moved out at 17.
College was done in the non conventional way. There would be no parties, no random dating. I hated my roommates, so I soon moved from the dorms and commuted. I studied, worked four jobs, and somehow managed to graduate with a 3.9. I had a good job in retail, and worked my way to junior management. I was engaged and was living in an old brownstone in Brighton. It wasn't until it all started falling apart, that I truly appreciated all that I had there. The 12 foot ceilings, phenomenal rent, and Boston College's 5 mile conservation area just steps outside the back door. I was only 19.
Still looking for the next thing, I moved myself 1200 miles away from all that I knew. Through job transfers, I wound up in Ft. Lauderdale. I continued to work, married, and fast tracked myself to senior management. The typical timeline for this career advancement is 10 to 15 years. I did it in 4. I was 22, and I was antsy...bored.
I soon quit that job, and accepted a job as a junior manager again. I was told that I should expect to be in that position for at least a year. I was promoted in 3 months. In the first two years of that job, I was honored twice at their conference in California. Unable to stop moving, wheels spinning, something was still missing. I took another job, part time, working with kids. Suddenly I knew the next thing for me, was children.
And so, after about a year of waiting, I was pregnant with my son. In a whirlwind, I was pregnant with my second son. My company closed down, we moved home to Massachusetts, and tried to start building a life there. My marriage fell apart, and the toddlers and I were left to fend for ourselves. Not deterred, once again, I strove for more.
I got a job working for the post office. I bought my first home. I ripped out walls, painted, planted flowers, renovated kitchens, and installed more wainscoting then the law should allow. I had great plans, always wanting just that little. bit. more. Slowly, a solid, steady friendship set itself on fire. Engaged, we are planning a wedding, clothes are moving in, addresses being changed. Very busy, very hectic, and many, many, plans.
And then, one day, it all stopped.
Me, the girl who always had a plan, a million things going on,or a project in the wings, had nothing. Sure, there were things that needed to be done, but nothing that couldn't wait. My sense of urgency was lost. My wheels had stopped spinning.
One day, my feet hit the ground, and I just stood still.
I was in the moment, enjoying all that I had achieved.
It was calm, comfortable, and fulfilling. Good.
For the first time in my life, I could just be.
Unfamiliar with this sight, family, friends, and random strangers, attempted to fill this void in my life. All tried to restore some sense of balance in my universe, even fixing things that weren't broken.
And to that I say, Thank you, but knock it off.
This is MY moment.
Just let me have it, damn it.
Growing up I always had a plan. I was always reaching for the next thing, and pushing the limits. Every day, my feet hit the floor running. I started working at 12. I got my permit the day I turned 16. I had my licence at exactly 16 and a half. My car? I had bought it with my own money at 15. I moved out at 17.
College was done in the non conventional way. There would be no parties, no random dating. I hated my roommates, so I soon moved from the dorms and commuted. I studied, worked four jobs, and somehow managed to graduate with a 3.9. I had a good job in retail, and worked my way to junior management. I was engaged and was living in an old brownstone in Brighton. It wasn't until it all started falling apart, that I truly appreciated all that I had there. The 12 foot ceilings, phenomenal rent, and Boston College's 5 mile conservation area just steps outside the back door. I was only 19.
Still looking for the next thing, I moved myself 1200 miles away from all that I knew. Through job transfers, I wound up in Ft. Lauderdale. I continued to work, married, and fast tracked myself to senior management. The typical timeline for this career advancement is 10 to 15 years. I did it in 4. I was 22, and I was antsy...bored.
I soon quit that job, and accepted a job as a junior manager again. I was told that I should expect to be in that position for at least a year. I was promoted in 3 months. In the first two years of that job, I was honored twice at their conference in California. Unable to stop moving, wheels spinning, something was still missing. I took another job, part time, working with kids. Suddenly I knew the next thing for me, was children.
And so, after about a year of waiting, I was pregnant with my son. In a whirlwind, I was pregnant with my second son. My company closed down, we moved home to Massachusetts, and tried to start building a life there. My marriage fell apart, and the toddlers and I were left to fend for ourselves. Not deterred, once again, I strove for more.
I got a job working for the post office. I bought my first home. I ripped out walls, painted, planted flowers, renovated kitchens, and installed more wainscoting then the law should allow. I had great plans, always wanting just that little. bit. more. Slowly, a solid, steady friendship set itself on fire. Engaged, we are planning a wedding, clothes are moving in, addresses being changed. Very busy, very hectic, and many, many, plans.
And then, one day, it all stopped.
Me, the girl who always had a plan, a million things going on,or a project in the wings, had nothing. Sure, there were things that needed to be done, but nothing that couldn't wait. My sense of urgency was lost. My wheels had stopped spinning.
One day, my feet hit the ground, and I just stood still.
I was in the moment, enjoying all that I had achieved.
It was calm, comfortable, and fulfilling. Good.
For the first time in my life, I could just be.
Unfamiliar with this sight, family, friends, and random strangers, attempted to fill this void in my life. All tried to restore some sense of balance in my universe, even fixing things that weren't broken.
And to that I say, Thank you, but knock it off.
This is MY moment.
Just let me have it, damn it.
Truth Is Thursday... Um, I Mean Tuesday...
Truth is... I have nothing to teach you today on...
...but feel free to click the button, visit Christie, and learn how to do all kinds of great stuff.
Truth is... I'm doing my "Truth is Thursday" post on Tuesday this week. What? You don't own me...
Truth is... logic would say that if someone were to eat a one pound bag of M&Ms, then consequently, that someone should only gain one pound. My thighs say otherwise.
Truth is... I'm so tired lately from work, the house, the kids, seasonal allergies, etc. that I told Almost Hubs I was considering a Sister Wife to ease my burden. He was all in until I told him that he couldn't sleep with her.
Truth is... I must be delicious. The mosquitoes just love me. Second only to the gnats and no-see-'ems. The love is not reciprocal.
Truth is... I've added a new tab at the top of my page. Go ahead, click it, I'll wait here for you... It's my bucket list. Over the years I've always hadseveral one, but I though keeping it here would make it easier to keep track of., and I'd be less likely to spill something on it.
Truth is... all of my favorite (note the sarcasm and rolling eyes) people are either on vacation or out injured from work right now. The Post Office is fast becoming my happy place.... and that's saying something since the air conditioning is broken, and I work in a building with no windows and about 50 other people.
Truth is... Almost Hubs wants to do nothing for his birthday. Nothing. No party. No cookout. No nothing. He's such a buzz kill sometimes.
...but feel free to click the button, visit Christie, and learn how to do all kinds of great stuff.
Truth is... I'm doing my "Truth is Thursday" post on Tuesday this week. What? You don't own me...
Truth is... logic would say that if someone were to eat a one pound bag of M&Ms, then consequently, that someone should only gain one pound. My thighs say otherwise.
Truth is... I'm so tired lately from work, the house, the kids, seasonal allergies, etc. that I told Almost Hubs I was considering a Sister Wife to ease my burden. He was all in until I told him that he couldn't sleep with her.
Truth is... I must be delicious. The mosquitoes just love me. Second only to the gnats and no-see-'ems. The love is not reciprocal.
Truth is... I've added a new tab at the top of my page. Go ahead, click it, I'll wait here for you... It's my bucket list. Over the years I've always had
Truth is... all of my favorite (note the sarcasm and rolling eyes) people are either on vacation or out injured from work right now. The Post Office is fast becoming my happy place.... and that's saying something since the air conditioning is broken, and I work in a building with no windows and about 50 other people.
Truth is... Almost Hubs wants to do nothing for his birthday. Nothing. No party. No cookout. No nothing. He's such a buzz kill sometimes.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Five Simple Rules...
To all the boys in my life,
I love you more than life itself. I truly do. I would gladly lay myself over any one of you in a tornado, rush a burning house, and kill a thousanddinner plate size tarantulas house spiders in an effort to provide you eternal comfort and safety. I dreamed of you before you existed, have loved you since the moment we met, and will love you unconditionally, despite your Y chromosome. I only ask a few things for my sanity to make our home a bit more enjoyable for me.
I have seen your amazing NBA-like skills that allow you to throw a small wad of paper from 20 feet away with obstacles, only to have that "ball" of paper swoosh perfectly into the trash can. It is because of this, I am certain that you can produce the same results with your socks, shirts, etc. and the laundry hamper. Game on!
Our dinner conversation is spontaneous and entertaining enough. I have no desire to play "Name That Aroma", "Guess That Ailment", or hear your musical rendition of Ode To Joy after drinking an entire can of soda. I'm good, thanks. If a bodily function can not be controlled, and you feel the need to have this burp, belch, or otherwise undesirable gas exorcise itself from your body at the dinner table, Excuse yourself.
If I have to clean my hair from the shower, so do you.
We all deserve to enjoy a icy cold ice cream treat from the freezer every now and then. But when we're done, the sticks belong in the trash. Not carefully placed next to the chair you're sitting in, or covered with glue and stuck to the coffee table.
Lastly, WIPE. THE. SEAT. I refuse to hover in my own home.
So that's it my lovelies.
Five simple rules. FIVE.
Love you bunches,
MUM
***Today's post brought to you by the letters "P" ,"M", & "S"
I love you more than life itself. I truly do. I would gladly lay myself over any one of you in a tornado, rush a burning house, and kill a thousand
I have seen your amazing NBA-like skills that allow you to throw a small wad of paper from 20 feet away with obstacles, only to have that "ball" of paper swoosh perfectly into the trash can. It is because of this, I am certain that you can produce the same results with your socks, shirts, etc. and the laundry hamper. Game on!
Our dinner conversation is spontaneous and entertaining enough. I have no desire to play "Name That Aroma", "Guess That Ailment", or hear your musical rendition of Ode To Joy after drinking an entire can of soda. I'm good, thanks. If a bodily function can not be controlled, and you feel the need to have this burp, belch, or otherwise undesirable gas exorcise itself from your body at the dinner table, Excuse yourself.
If I have to clean my hair from the shower, so do you.
We all deserve to enjoy a icy cold ice cream treat from the freezer every now and then. But when we're done, the sticks belong in the trash. Not carefully placed next to the chair you're sitting in, or covered with glue and stuck to the coffee table.
Lastly, WIPE. THE. SEAT. I refuse to hover in my own home.
So that's it my lovelies.
Five simple rules. FIVE.
Love you bunches,
MUM
***Today's post brought to you by the letters "P" ,"M", & "S"
Friday, June 3, 2011
Ooops, My bad...
Someone should have remembered to pull the summer clothes down from the attic before the temperatures reached 87 degrees.
Someone should have realized that her son had no shorts in said attic sooner than two weeks into the 80 degree weather.
Someone should remember that her son's snack stock at school would need to be replenished by now.... I mean it's June...
Someone should not have listed her children's father as "idiot" in her cell phone out of frustration. She also should not have let her son play games on that phone when a text came through from "IDIOT".
Someone should have realized before they gave her old laptop to her children to play video games, that when she deletes certain, um, inappropriate items from her computer they end up all in one location, the recycle bin. Which is located conveniently right next to their icon for games, and they will click it by accident.
Someone should have been able to watch the Bruins/Canucks in peace, but instead is deleting files from her old recycling bin. Really folks... stop sending me those emails...
Someone should have known, that after carefully selecting her wedding date and honeymoon, only after calling the schools, coordinating with the closed summer camps, preempting classroom placements, and avoiding holidays, that the school system would decide to start back a week early.
While she's 2000 miles away.
Someone really should have known better.
Someone really should get fired.
Someone should have realized that her son had no shorts in said attic sooner than two weeks into the 80 degree weather.
Someone should remember that her son's snack stock at school would need to be replenished by now.... I mean it's June...
Someone should not have listed her children's father as "idiot" in her cell phone out of frustration. She also should not have let her son play games on that phone when a text came through from "IDIOT".
Someone should have realized before they gave her old laptop to her children to play video games, that when she deletes certain, um, inappropriate items from her computer they end up all in one location, the recycle bin. Which is located conveniently right next to their icon for games, and they will click it by accident.
Someone should have been able to watch the Bruins/Canucks in peace, but instead is deleting files from her old recycling bin. Really folks... stop sending me those emails...
Someone should have known, that after carefully selecting her wedding date and honeymoon, only after calling the schools, coordinating with the closed summer camps, preempting classroom placements, and avoiding holidays, that the school system would decide to start back a week early.
While she's 2000 miles away.
Someone really should have known better.
Someone really should get fired.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Truth Is Thursday... Picture Edition....
Truth is....
You should always wear gloves when Tye dying....
Truth is...
Truth is....
Old Navy is really out doing themselves with the variety of t-shirt choices this year. Bacon... it's the carnivore's fix all.
Truth is...
The lawn is coming in quite nicely. Since this photo was taken, Almost Hubs has spread more seed, more grub/ant killer, and I'm pretty sure he sings 80's love songs to it while he's out watering. (Lionel Ritchie, Air Supply, Hall & Oats... he's a wealth of 80's mood music)
Truth is...
The basement build-out has a really, really, long way to go. *sigh*
Truth is...
There were no good sales this week and the Sunday papers were sans coupons... so we're eating from the pantry for the next two weeks. Looks like a lot of ribs in the crock pot...
Truth is...
This one's for Ami. It's Youngest's drawing of a supersonic bouncing super ball. Those lines are "action lines" not tails, and that's a hand in the upper right corner not, um, anything else.
Truth is...
I really need to work on my photography skills.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Conversations With Youngest...
Him: "I have this weird thing on my foot."
Me: "Yeah, that is weird, it kind of looks like a Spider bite."
Him: "A spider bite?"
Me: "Looks like it... are your spidey senses tingling? Are you feeling the urge to climb the walls?"
Him: "Wait! Let me see!"
(Child runs face first into bedroom wall and falls to the ground)
Him: "Ow."
Me: "Nothing?"
Him: "Nope."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Him: "I can see with my ears."
Me: (Yeah, I had nothing here.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Him: (seeing he's in big trouble, he starts working the charm..) "I need a hug."
Me: Oh, you do do you?"
Him: "Yes. Should I get my 'Free Hug' coupon?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Him: "I've decided to save my money up."
Me: "Oh."
Him: ."Yes. So that just in case we have to live in a box, I can buy us food"
Me: "Really?"
Him:"Yes, I have 1.28 so far. That's enough for M&Ms."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Him: "I've decided that just in case we ever have to live in a box, I should get used to living off the land and eating leaves."
Me: "Um, OK?"
Him: "So I've started getting used to it by sucking on this leaf."
Me: "What!?! You can't just go sucking on leaves! Where did you get this one?"
Him: "You know the bush in the front with the flowers?"
Me: "The incredibly poisonous Rhododendron that could kill you or paralyze your muscles?"
Him: "Oops."
Me: (looking at the leaf noting is was not the Rhododendron) "Yeah, oops! No more eating leaves of any kind...got it?!?"
Him: "Got it, no more eating leaves... unless I check with you first..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Me: "You know Youngest, you're really exhausting me today."
Him: "You know Mom, I'm really exhausting a lot of people today."
Me: "Yeah, that is weird, it kind of looks like a Spider bite."
Him: "A spider bite?"
Me: "Looks like it... are your spidey senses tingling? Are you feeling the urge to climb the walls?"
Him: "Wait! Let me see!"
(Child runs face first into bedroom wall and falls to the ground)
Him: "Ow."
Me: "Nothing?"
Him: "Nope."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Him: "I can see with my ears."
Me: (Yeah, I had nothing here.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Him: (seeing he's in big trouble, he starts working the charm..) "I need a hug."
Me: Oh, you do do you?"
Him: "Yes. Should I get my 'Free Hug' coupon?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Him: "I've decided to save my money up."
Me: "Oh."
Him: ."Yes. So that just in case we have to live in a box, I can buy us food"
Me: "Really?"
Him:"Yes, I have 1.28 so far. That's enough for M&Ms."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Him: "I've decided that just in case we ever have to live in a box, I should get used to living off the land and eating leaves."
Me: "Um, OK?"
Him: "So I've started getting used to it by sucking on this leaf."
Me: "What!?! You can't just go sucking on leaves! Where did you get this one?"
Him: "You know the bush in the front with the flowers?"
Me: "The incredibly poisonous Rhododendron that could kill you or paralyze your muscles?"
Him: "Oops."
Me: (looking at the leaf noting is was not the Rhododendron) "Yeah, oops! No more eating leaves of any kind...got it?!?"
Him: "Got it, no more eating leaves... unless I check with you first..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Me: "You know Youngest, you're really exhausting me today."
Him: "You know Mom, I'm really exhausting a lot of people today."
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