BLAH!!! Short, sweet, and to the point. I always somehow forget how Thanksgiving carries over way past that one glorious Thursday.
I of course had pecan pie and killer sweet potatoes left over. Then the dressing. Oh my goodness. I think I had it for breakfast for 3 days. I think I felt somewhat compelled to not leave any leftovers. I mean, you spend so much time fixing the darn stuff it would be such a shame to just throw away what was left. Is that just my weird thinking? Probably I'm just trying to justify eating dressing for breakfast. Which actually I didn't make, but I did make the sweet potatoes, turkey, and a lemon cake.
Oh well, that was last week and that makes it the past, therefore, I can do nothing about it now. Moving on.
P.S. I do plan on writing in between the weekly updates. This week there just hasn't been much going on. I did get started on my Christmas shopping which makes me very happy. Also, hubby is supposed to teach me how to take pictures off my phone and put them on the computer. I may be picture happy for a few days until the newness wears off or I run out of things to take pictures of. No telling what you might see.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Week One
Ok, so as promised a weekly update to my lifestyle change. I have lost 3 or 4 pounds. Hooray! I say 3 or 4 because I don't have a digital scale and it is hard to tell exactly how much. I know it's not 5 but more than 2. Doesn't matter. That little needle moved down!
This first week was hard. I didn't stick to it every day but then again I'm not on a diet. Normal everyday people eat junk food and that's ok. As long as it isn't every day or all day. For the most part I did really well.
Thanksgiving being tomorrow I am mentally preparing myself to not do so good. Thanksgiving is only once a year and nobody wants to sit around on that day listening to someone say "Oh, I can't, I'm watching what I'm eating." Kind of a buzz kill. Besides, I only eat pecan pie once a year and I'm sooo not giving that up.
Everyone have a good Turkey Day and remember what you have to be thankful for.
This first week was hard. I didn't stick to it every day but then again I'm not on a diet. Normal everyday people eat junk food and that's ok. As long as it isn't every day or all day. For the most part I did really well.
Thanksgiving being tomorrow I am mentally preparing myself to not do so good. Thanksgiving is only once a year and nobody wants to sit around on that day listening to someone say "Oh, I can't, I'm watching what I'm eating." Kind of a buzz kill. Besides, I only eat pecan pie once a year and I'm sooo not giving that up.
Everyone have a good Turkey Day and remember what you have to be thankful for.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Toilet Paper
So, hubby and I have been arguing over toilet paper. Normally, I buy this toilet paper. It has lotion and aloe and vitamin E in it. I didn't mind at first. When I first started buying it, it was around 5 bucks for 6 rolls. More expensive than the others but my hubby doesn't ask for much. Well, the price eventually crept up to about 7 bucks. A few years more and you couldn't just get 6 rolls, you had to buy 12 rolls and it was $10. Well, money was tight last week so I bought some cheap toilet paper just to get us through but I told him I was no longer going to get his toilet paper because it was too much. He threw a fit and demanded I go get it. I said no. I felt empowered having so much control over the comfort of his butt.
On another note (this will eventually tie into to the first part of the story), I have been doing very well on my "lifestyle change." I am not going to call this a diet. It sounds negative and diets don't work. Also, thank you very much to all that left comments and suggestions. I appreciated that very much.
Anyways, all week I have been watching what I eat, drinking lots of water, even no Dr. Pepper. A friend called and wanted to go to lunch Friday. Eating out is probably my biggest weakness. This time was no exception. I blew it. Big time. I didn't beat myself up though. Until supper. Hubby and I got Mi Pueblo, one of our favorite mexican restaurants.
After dinner my stomach let me know right quick that it was PISSED at me. You see, after eating healthy for a week and then dropping all that very unhealthy food on my stomach was bad news. Let's just say I made more than one trip to the bathroom over the course of the evening and into the morning.
I am now, as quickly as I can dress myself and the kids, on my way to Wal-Mart to get the aloe and vitamin E toilet paper. My rear end can no longer endure the John Wayne toilet paper. You know, "rough and tough and don't take shit off no one."
On another note (this will eventually tie into to the first part of the story), I have been doing very well on my "lifestyle change." I am not going to call this a diet. It sounds negative and diets don't work. Also, thank you very much to all that left comments and suggestions. I appreciated that very much.
Anyways, all week I have been watching what I eat, drinking lots of water, even no Dr. Pepper. A friend called and wanted to go to lunch Friday. Eating out is probably my biggest weakness. This time was no exception. I blew it. Big time. I didn't beat myself up though. Until supper. Hubby and I got Mi Pueblo, one of our favorite mexican restaurants.
After dinner my stomach let me know right quick that it was PISSED at me. You see, after eating healthy for a week and then dropping all that very unhealthy food on my stomach was bad news. Let's just say I made more than one trip to the bathroom over the course of the evening and into the morning.
I am now, as quickly as I can dress myself and the kids, on my way to Wal-Mart to get the aloe and vitamin E toilet paper. My rear end can no longer endure the John Wayne toilet paper. You know, "rough and tough and don't take shit off no one."
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Maybe This Time
A friend of mine called yesterday to chat and toward the end of the conversation she said she had been meaning to ask me something. She wanted to know if I wanted to start exercising with her. Maybe a walk or two a week or possibly join a gym with her. She said that she thinks if she has someone to be accountable to that she would do better. It was very strange she called and asked because I had been thinking the exact same thing but didn't know how to approach the subject.
I have battled my weight for as long as I can remember. I remember back in high school thinking I was huge because the girls I was surrounded with were no bigger than my 10 year old sister at the time. I had a distorted view of myself. I have always had an athletic build, and curves. The girls I went to high school with were sticks. No figures, no legs, no boobs. Ok, they actually had legs, but they were little bitty tiny legs. Most of high school I believe I was about a size 10. Although that isn't bad by any means, I was comparing that to the size 2 that it seemed everyone else was.
I have tried in vain over the years to lose the weight. I was actually somewhat successful last year. I lost about 30 pounds. It was the thinnest I had been in over 10 years. I was exercising every day, drinking lots of water, eating right. Then I got sick. I got really sick. I had to stop exercising and ended up having surgery. I did lose another 10 pounds from being sick but I felt like shit. It took a long time to recover from the surgery and during that time I gained every single pound back.
I have found I am an emotional eater. I get depressed, I eat. I also was raised in a family where eating was a big deal. My mom or dad cooked every single night and it was good. I was taught a great appreciation for a good meal. My parents have both struggled with weight and I was never taught good eating habits. I am an adult now and make my own decisions of course, I don't blame them.
I have never been made fun of because of my weight. I put on the majority of my weight after high school. Adults tend to be more discreet if they are going to make fun of you. My husband, God bless him, tells me every day how beautiful I am and he loves me. Not that I would want him telling me I look like a cow. I ask him a lot, "Wouldn't you rather me look like so and so?" He just smiles that very familiar smile I have grown to love, puts his arms tightly around me and says "I love you the way you are Fuzzy." I'll have to explain "Fuzzy" another time :)
Anyways, maybe, just maybe, if I have an "appointment" with my friend to go work out or to go walk I will stick with it. I have told her to call me and ask me what I had to eat, am I drinking my water, things like that. It will take a true and honest friend to go through this with me. I am holding her accountable as well. She said I have permission to call her, tell her to get her lazy ass out of the bed and come do something. Her words, not mine. If a call doesn't work, I get to go to her house and shove her out of bed.
You know posting about this is hard for me. I have tried and failed many times. I have never "gone public" with it. It is obvious I need to lose weight but somehow I guess I think if I don't say it out loud it isn't so bad. So each time I fail, I fail silently. Each time going back to the eating, back to hating shopping for clothes, hating that I have failed once again. I wonder if it is ever possible.
I end this now a little depressed but also with a glimmer of hope. Hope that maybe I can figure out a way to make it work this time. Hope that maybe I can post once a week with a small update as to how it is going. Maybe if I can post good progress I will be more motivated to stick with it. Maybe if I post the bad it will be a way to let it out, let it go, and move on to tomorrow.
I have battled my weight for as long as I can remember. I remember back in high school thinking I was huge because the girls I was surrounded with were no bigger than my 10 year old sister at the time. I had a distorted view of myself. I have always had an athletic build, and curves. The girls I went to high school with were sticks. No figures, no legs, no boobs. Ok, they actually had legs, but they were little bitty tiny legs. Most of high school I believe I was about a size 10. Although that isn't bad by any means, I was comparing that to the size 2 that it seemed everyone else was.
I have tried in vain over the years to lose the weight. I was actually somewhat successful last year. I lost about 30 pounds. It was the thinnest I had been in over 10 years. I was exercising every day, drinking lots of water, eating right. Then I got sick. I got really sick. I had to stop exercising and ended up having surgery. I did lose another 10 pounds from being sick but I felt like shit. It took a long time to recover from the surgery and during that time I gained every single pound back.
I have found I am an emotional eater. I get depressed, I eat. I also was raised in a family where eating was a big deal. My mom or dad cooked every single night and it was good. I was taught a great appreciation for a good meal. My parents have both struggled with weight and I was never taught good eating habits. I am an adult now and make my own decisions of course, I don't blame them.
I have never been made fun of because of my weight. I put on the majority of my weight after high school. Adults tend to be more discreet if they are going to make fun of you. My husband, God bless him, tells me every day how beautiful I am and he loves me. Not that I would want him telling me I look like a cow. I ask him a lot, "Wouldn't you rather me look like so and so?" He just smiles that very familiar smile I have grown to love, puts his arms tightly around me and says "I love you the way you are Fuzzy." I'll have to explain "Fuzzy" another time :)
Anyways, maybe, just maybe, if I have an "appointment" with my friend to go work out or to go walk I will stick with it. I have told her to call me and ask me what I had to eat, am I drinking my water, things like that. It will take a true and honest friend to go through this with me. I am holding her accountable as well. She said I have permission to call her, tell her to get her lazy ass out of the bed and come do something. Her words, not mine. If a call doesn't work, I get to go to her house and shove her out of bed.
You know posting about this is hard for me. I have tried and failed many times. I have never "gone public" with it. It is obvious I need to lose weight but somehow I guess I think if I don't say it out loud it isn't so bad. So each time I fail, I fail silently. Each time going back to the eating, back to hating shopping for clothes, hating that I have failed once again. I wonder if it is ever possible.
I end this now a little depressed but also with a glimmer of hope. Hope that maybe I can figure out a way to make it work this time. Hope that maybe I can post once a week with a small update as to how it is going. Maybe if I can post good progress I will be more motivated to stick with it. Maybe if I post the bad it will be a way to let it out, let it go, and move on to tomorrow.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
So, That's What's Wrong
I was babysitting my two nieces and my nephew yesterday. The girls are 5 and 3 and the boy is 11. Sarah has a doctor's kit and the younger two found it, so I became the patient. I had some interesting diagnoses.
From Sarah: She looked in my ears and decided I had an "ear confection." She looked in my nose and found a "nose confection."
From Abbie (the 5 year old): She looked in my ears and said "Nope, no boogers!"
From Shelby (the 3 year old): "You have a black foot"
I also got 3 shots. They enjoyed that the most.
From Sarah: She looked in my ears and decided I had an "ear confection." She looked in my nose and found a "nose confection."
From Abbie (the 5 year old): She looked in my ears and said "Nope, no boogers!"
From Shelby (the 3 year old): "You have a black foot"
I also got 3 shots. They enjoyed that the most.
Friday, November 9, 2007
One and Two
ONE
Thank you first to Tweaker and hubby for the wonderful comments on my last post. It truly does my heart good. I know that my family loves me and I have never been shorted on being told so, but sometimes being told at the right moment makes it all the more special.
To Gnat, thank you for your comments as well. When you posted the "half-life of my hot dog is up" comment it really got me to thinking. Up until that point I hadn't realized how long it had been since I posted. Other than that, the fact that someone I have never met noticed that it had been that long touched me. Honestly, it was that comment that made me look back over the past months and write again. If ever I make it down to Florida you will be one person I will definitely look up. I would love to see your studio and finally see first hand what it is exactly you do with that glass!
TWO
The logic of children never ceases to amaze me. If they want something, and want it badly enough they will find a way. Case in point: my eldest daughter, Gracie, won an iPod shuffle on Halloween as a door prize at a Fall Festival she went to. She has been trying her hardest to find a reason to take it to school and show it off. The reasons are endless as to why we won't let her but she was not deterred.
Gracie came to me this morning and said "Momma, is my iPod made of metal?" I told her yes and wondered where in the world that came from. Her next statement told me all I needed to know.
"We are studying minerals and metals at school and I thought I could take my iPod as an example of metal."
"Wouldn't that be a good idea?"
"Nice try Gracie, the answer is still no."
Thank you first to Tweaker and hubby for the wonderful comments on my last post. It truly does my heart good. I know that my family loves me and I have never been shorted on being told so, but sometimes being told at the right moment makes it all the more special.
To Gnat, thank you for your comments as well. When you posted the "half-life of my hot dog is up" comment it really got me to thinking. Up until that point I hadn't realized how long it had been since I posted. Other than that, the fact that someone I have never met noticed that it had been that long touched me. Honestly, it was that comment that made me look back over the past months and write again. If ever I make it down to Florida you will be one person I will definitely look up. I would love to see your studio and finally see first hand what it is exactly you do with that glass!
TWO
The logic of children never ceases to amaze me. If they want something, and want it badly enough they will find a way. Case in point: my eldest daughter, Gracie, won an iPod shuffle on Halloween as a door prize at a Fall Festival she went to. She has been trying her hardest to find a reason to take it to school and show it off. The reasons are endless as to why we won't let her but she was not deterred.
Gracie came to me this morning and said "Momma, is my iPod made of metal?" I told her yes and wondered where in the world that came from. Her next statement told me all I needed to know.
"We are studying minerals and metals at school and I thought I could take my iPod as an example of metal."
"Wouldn't that be a good idea?"
"Nice try Gracie, the answer is still no."
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Catching Up
Well, here I am coming up on 2 months since my last post. I swore to myself when I started this thing that I wouldn't do that. If nothing else I would just post about my everyday life. Nothing major, just something. Maybe not everyday but not once every month.
I started this blog for myself. I wanted to write things about my kids that I didn't want to forget, vent when something made me mad, and tell some things that might make someone smile. I knew that I would never be one of those blogs that attracted hundreds of people but it didn't matter to me. There have been a few people I have "met" through my blog and that is neat to me. I enjoy reading about their lives. A peek into someone else's life is good for a change.
I wish that I could say that "I've been so busy, I haven't had time to write." Truth is, I think I just stopped seeing the little things. The little things that made me want to write in the first place. When you get into a rut like I have been in it is so hard to see happiness in the little things. I never used to have to work at being happy. It has always come very naturally for me. Then it seemed all of the sudden I was having to work at it.
I mean, everyone has times when they are down. I know this. My down time just seemed to be coming more often and lasting longer. I'm tired of it honestly. I could list reason after reason of why I could wallow in anger, bitterness, resentment, any number of negativities. Some of them rightfully so, some not. You know, some times you just want to be mad. You need to be mad. You just can't let it consume you or it will become you. It will become who you are. You have to let things go. Some things you can change in your life and some you can not. So here are a few things I have taken for granted over the past couple of months and a couple things coming up.
My dear, sweet, brother-in-law came for a visit. He lives in Texas and I don't get to see him nearly often enough. He made special arrangements with his work to get to Memphis while on a business trip. His trip was short but he was here. I wish I had told him more how glad I was he came and how much I love him.
I had my 32nd birthday. Some women would not celebrate this fact but I have survived on this earth for another year and that is something to be happy about. I have had a good 32 years so far. I grew up very happy with no major trauma other than a broken arm and a leg. I still have both my parents and I have a happy marriage with beautiful, healthy children. I haven't won the lottery yet, but who knows!
I connected with a new friend. Sounds cheesy, but the two of us have been trying for weeks to get together. We would chat on the phone or email, but we finally were able to coordinate our schedules, go out, and forget about life for a while. Ha, that sounded a bit Billy Joel-ish. We had a fabulous time and talked and talked some more. It's nice when you find someone that listens to you, is interested in your life, however boring it may be. The conversation never dragged and I learned a few things about her and she learned some about me. It's always fascinating to me to get to know people and to share things about yourself.
Halloween! Seeing my kids absolutely crazy in anticipation of darkness. Watching them transform into a princess, a black cat, and a spider witch. Hearing Colin saying with such enthusiasm, "Trick or Treat!" and looking for the next house with a porch light on.
Now, Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming up, my favorite times of the year. I love to eat. I especially love to eat Thanksgiving food. My mom has cooked the same things for Thanksgiving every year as long as I can remember and I anticipate it as much now as I always have. My family isn't exactly getting along right now and I have one sister in Colorado now who won't be coming home this year, so Thanksgiving won't be what it usually is for me this year. I am saddened by this, but that is one of those things I was talking about that you can't change.
I am one of those morons that love seeing Christmas commercials and hearing Christmas music. I get tingly in my stomach when I go into Wal-Mart and see all the decorations and the trees. I love, love, love, love, to go Christmas shopping. Hearing every day, "Momma, what are we getting for Christmas?" "When is Christmas gonna be here?"
I wrap all my Christmas presents. I don't do bags. I put birthday presents in bags, not Christmas. Something about all the tape, scissors, folding, cutting. It gets me delirious with happiness.
Next is New Years. I don't do the party scene. Hell, I can't stay up til midnight but my anniversary is January 1. This year will be number 14. Yes, I was married at 18 and still going strong. Hasn't always been easy but who said it was. We grew up together. I mean, how much do you know at 18. Not nearly as much as you think you do that's for sure. I wouldn't change much. Take out some of the bad maybe. Only some though. Some of the bad has made us better people. I think back and I have known my husband longer than I haven't. We met and started dating in 1990. I was a month shy of my 15th birthday.
So, I see now, I had plenty to write about, do have plenty to write about. As long as I remember why I'm writing. To remember, to rejoice, to bitch, whatever. After all , Roseanne Roseannadanna said it best, "It's Always Something."
I started this blog for myself. I wanted to write things about my kids that I didn't want to forget, vent when something made me mad, and tell some things that might make someone smile. I knew that I would never be one of those blogs that attracted hundreds of people but it didn't matter to me. There have been a few people I have "met" through my blog and that is neat to me. I enjoy reading about their lives. A peek into someone else's life is good for a change.
I wish that I could say that "I've been so busy, I haven't had time to write." Truth is, I think I just stopped seeing the little things. The little things that made me want to write in the first place. When you get into a rut like I have been in it is so hard to see happiness in the little things. I never used to have to work at being happy. It has always come very naturally for me. Then it seemed all of the sudden I was having to work at it.
I mean, everyone has times when they are down. I know this. My down time just seemed to be coming more often and lasting longer. I'm tired of it honestly. I could list reason after reason of why I could wallow in anger, bitterness, resentment, any number of negativities. Some of them rightfully so, some not. You know, some times you just want to be mad. You need to be mad. You just can't let it consume you or it will become you. It will become who you are. You have to let things go. Some things you can change in your life and some you can not. So here are a few things I have taken for granted over the past couple of months and a couple things coming up.
My dear, sweet, brother-in-law came for a visit. He lives in Texas and I don't get to see him nearly often enough. He made special arrangements with his work to get to Memphis while on a business trip. His trip was short but he was here. I wish I had told him more how glad I was he came and how much I love him.
I had my 32nd birthday. Some women would not celebrate this fact but I have survived on this earth for another year and that is something to be happy about. I have had a good 32 years so far. I grew up very happy with no major trauma other than a broken arm and a leg. I still have both my parents and I have a happy marriage with beautiful, healthy children. I haven't won the lottery yet, but who knows!
I connected with a new friend. Sounds cheesy, but the two of us have been trying for weeks to get together. We would chat on the phone or email, but we finally were able to coordinate our schedules, go out, and forget about life for a while. Ha, that sounded a bit Billy Joel-ish. We had a fabulous time and talked and talked some more. It's nice when you find someone that listens to you, is interested in your life, however boring it may be. The conversation never dragged and I learned a few things about her and she learned some about me. It's always fascinating to me to get to know people and to share things about yourself.
Halloween! Seeing my kids absolutely crazy in anticipation of darkness. Watching them transform into a princess, a black cat, and a spider witch. Hearing Colin saying with such enthusiasm, "Trick or Treat!" and looking for the next house with a porch light on.
Now, Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming up, my favorite times of the year. I love to eat. I especially love to eat Thanksgiving food. My mom has cooked the same things for Thanksgiving every year as long as I can remember and I anticipate it as much now as I always have. My family isn't exactly getting along right now and I have one sister in Colorado now who won't be coming home this year, so Thanksgiving won't be what it usually is for me this year. I am saddened by this, but that is one of those things I was talking about that you can't change.
I am one of those morons that love seeing Christmas commercials and hearing Christmas music. I get tingly in my stomach when I go into Wal-Mart and see all the decorations and the trees. I love, love, love, love, to go Christmas shopping. Hearing every day, "Momma, what are we getting for Christmas?" "When is Christmas gonna be here?"
I wrap all my Christmas presents. I don't do bags. I put birthday presents in bags, not Christmas. Something about all the tape, scissors, folding, cutting. It gets me delirious with happiness.
Next is New Years. I don't do the party scene. Hell, I can't stay up til midnight but my anniversary is January 1. This year will be number 14. Yes, I was married at 18 and still going strong. Hasn't always been easy but who said it was. We grew up together. I mean, how much do you know at 18. Not nearly as much as you think you do that's for sure. I wouldn't change much. Take out some of the bad maybe. Only some though. Some of the bad has made us better people. I think back and I have known my husband longer than I haven't. We met and started dating in 1990. I was a month shy of my 15th birthday.
So, I see now, I had plenty to write about, do have plenty to write about. As long as I remember why I'm writing. To remember, to rejoice, to bitch, whatever. After all , Roseanne Roseannadanna said it best, "It's Always Something."
Monday, September 17, 2007
Oh, I Wish I Were An Oscar Mayer Weiner........
Sarah and Colin were at the table today for lunch having their favorite meal: hot dogs. They love the kind with the cheese in them.
The two of them have gotten very creative in their eating. Now Sarah has always had a bit of an imagination. She can sit for an infinite amount of time playing by herself and any little objects she can imagine into little people. There have been fork and spoon people, cup people, her stuffed animals of course. She sits and pretends they are moms and dads or sometimes they are Gracie and Colin. She talks away in her own little world. It is truly fascinating to watch and listen to.
Colin has started doing just about everything that Sarah does lately, including talking to the "little people." Today the hot dogs were moms and dads. They were talking away to each other, making them hop up and down and such. Colin turned his hot dogs to Sarah's hot dogs and said "Mom. Mom. Where are you?" Sarah replied, "Sorry Colin, Mom got ate."
They say that kids who have imaginary friends and such are the more creative and intelligent children. One can only hope.
The two of them have gotten very creative in their eating. Now Sarah has always had a bit of an imagination. She can sit for an infinite amount of time playing by herself and any little objects she can imagine into little people. There have been fork and spoon people, cup people, her stuffed animals of course. She sits and pretends they are moms and dads or sometimes they are Gracie and Colin. She talks away in her own little world. It is truly fascinating to watch and listen to.
Colin has started doing just about everything that Sarah does lately, including talking to the "little people." Today the hot dogs were moms and dads. They were talking away to each other, making them hop up and down and such. Colin turned his hot dogs to Sarah's hot dogs and said "Mom. Mom. Where are you?" Sarah replied, "Sorry Colin, Mom got ate."
They say that kids who have imaginary friends and such are the more creative and intelligent children. One can only hope.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
9/11
I can not believe it has been 6 years since this horrid day will forever be remembered in United States history.
I, like everyone else, remember what I was doing when I first heard the news. I was at my job at FedEx. I had only been there one month at the time. I remember our boss coming to tell us what was going on. Details were very sketchy at first. I was scared to death being at an airport working, not knowing yet what was truly going on. We didn't know how many attacks had happened or how many were to come. We didn't have access to TV, only second hand information we were getting from our bosses when they heard something. It was a long, scary, day.
I remember after I got home and started watching what was going on I wanted to hug my daughter and my husband tight. The realization that something like that could happen here truly sank in.
The people that were killed that day went to work, or got on a flight like millions of people do every day believing they would come home. They didn't.
I believe that up until that point I naively thought I was safe in the United States. We didn't live in a country where things like that happened. That was always someone else's problem.
Living very near the airport, I am used to seeing and hearing airplanes go over my house with regularity. When they stopped all airplanes from flying that next day it was very disturbing to look up at the sky and see nothing, to hear nothing.
As the story unfolded over the next days and weeks I was stunned and mortified. With each detail I kept asking how and why this happened.
It was senseless and tragic and a day I will never forget. I didn't know anyone killed on that day but it has affected me in a different way. Every time I unwillingly get on an airplane, or someone that I love does, I wonder if I will see them again. Every time an airplane goes over my house just a little too low, I wonder. At work, if I see a package that just doesn't seem right, I wonder.
The United States has changed dramatically since 9/11. Some good, some bad. I still would never want to live anywhere else in the world. The way this country came together after that day to help and to heal each other was amazing to see. Strangers helping strangers, just because. We, as a nation, were attacked, and we, as a nation, were going to persevere.
I pray that nothing like this will ever happen again. I know, unfortunately that this is probably not true. Even one more life lost in such tragedy will be too many.
I, like everyone else, remember what I was doing when I first heard the news. I was at my job at FedEx. I had only been there one month at the time. I remember our boss coming to tell us what was going on. Details were very sketchy at first. I was scared to death being at an airport working, not knowing yet what was truly going on. We didn't know how many attacks had happened or how many were to come. We didn't have access to TV, only second hand information we were getting from our bosses when they heard something. It was a long, scary, day.
I remember after I got home and started watching what was going on I wanted to hug my daughter and my husband tight. The realization that something like that could happen here truly sank in.
The people that were killed that day went to work, or got on a flight like millions of people do every day believing they would come home. They didn't.
I believe that up until that point I naively thought I was safe in the United States. We didn't live in a country where things like that happened. That was always someone else's problem.
Living very near the airport, I am used to seeing and hearing airplanes go over my house with regularity. When they stopped all airplanes from flying that next day it was very disturbing to look up at the sky and see nothing, to hear nothing.
As the story unfolded over the next days and weeks I was stunned and mortified. With each detail I kept asking how and why this happened.
It was senseless and tragic and a day I will never forget. I didn't know anyone killed on that day but it has affected me in a different way. Every time I unwillingly get on an airplane, or someone that I love does, I wonder if I will see them again. Every time an airplane goes over my house just a little too low, I wonder. At work, if I see a package that just doesn't seem right, I wonder.
The United States has changed dramatically since 9/11. Some good, some bad. I still would never want to live anywhere else in the world. The way this country came together after that day to help and to heal each other was amazing to see. Strangers helping strangers, just because. We, as a nation, were attacked, and we, as a nation, were going to persevere.
I pray that nothing like this will ever happen again. I know, unfortunately that this is probably not true. Even one more life lost in such tragedy will be too many.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Colin
I guess it's about time I told you a little bit about my baby boy Colin. Listen to me, he will be 3 in January. I never thought I could handle a boy. I was scared to death of what to do with one should I ever have one. First of all, I never thought I would have one. I was just sure that God knew me well enough to not have a boy.
I am very wimpy when it comes to discipline and little boys need that constantly. They also have penises and testicles. I don't know what to do with questions about these things. I don't have them. I didn't have brothers. I don't know what little boys do, what is normal.
Potty training! Don't get me started. Did you know they shake it off when they are done? See, I didn't know this. Did you also know they love to start and stop peeing, like in mid-steam? He grins ear to ear when doing this, all while peeing down his leg and all over the toilet. I also wasn't prepared for the hand down the diaper like Al Bundy either. Yeah, they love it that early. He's 2 for heavens sake!
He runs constantly. He doesn't just walk through the den, he runs full force, does a few cartwheel-flip things, all the way through, then crashes into me like he's trying to tackle me.
He makes noises all the time. He grunts, and screams, then grunts some more. For no reason apparently. He is like a little caveman.
He likes to stick his head in mud puddles. I have a few pictures of him with his head full of mud and running down his little face with the biggest grin on it.
On the other hand.....
He brought me 3 leaves the other day and said "These for you Momma." My heart melted.
Whenever I wear earrings or a necklace he jumps up in my lap, grabs my face, looks directly in my eyes and says "You pretty Momma."
He holds my hand when we walk from the car to the store.
He screams in excitement when I come home from work every morning.
He helped me mop the floor the other morning and he always puts his dishes in the sink when he is done eating.
My husband, God bless him, has been my savior in this adventure so far. I could not have made this far with out him and him telling me "It's ok Mandie. He's just being a little boy."
I guess God did know what he was doing.
I am very wimpy when it comes to discipline and little boys need that constantly. They also have penises and testicles. I don't know what to do with questions about these things. I don't have them. I didn't have brothers. I don't know what little boys do, what is normal.
Potty training! Don't get me started. Did you know they shake it off when they are done? See, I didn't know this. Did you also know they love to start and stop peeing, like in mid-steam? He grins ear to ear when doing this, all while peeing down his leg and all over the toilet. I also wasn't prepared for the hand down the diaper like Al Bundy either. Yeah, they love it that early. He's 2 for heavens sake!
He runs constantly. He doesn't just walk through the den, he runs full force, does a few cartwheel-flip things, all the way through, then crashes into me like he's trying to tackle me.
He makes noises all the time. He grunts, and screams, then grunts some more. For no reason apparently. He is like a little caveman.
He likes to stick his head in mud puddles. I have a few pictures of him with his head full of mud and running down his little face with the biggest grin on it.
On the other hand.....
He brought me 3 leaves the other day and said "These for you Momma." My heart melted.
Whenever I wear earrings or a necklace he jumps up in my lap, grabs my face, looks directly in my eyes and says "You pretty Momma."
He holds my hand when we walk from the car to the store.
He screams in excitement when I come home from work every morning.
He helped me mop the floor the other morning and he always puts his dishes in the sink when he is done eating.
My husband, God bless him, has been my savior in this adventure so far. I could not have made this far with out him and him telling me "It's ok Mandie. He's just being a little boy."
I guess God did know what he was doing.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Confession
I have a confession to make. I decided to do this publicly because I knew I wouldn't be able to hide this from husband for long. He reads my blog so he will see this soon enough.
I have an iPod. No, that's not the confession. It's what I put on my iPod. I have bought lots and lots of songs since I was given this amazing gadget, by my husband, ironically. I am addicted to this thing. I think my husband secretly wishes I would lose the thing now. We have gone round and round about the songs I put on it.
You see I love the 80's and every horrible song in that decade. I also love the 50's. This is my mom's fault. I grew up on that music. Love it! Anyways, everytime I buy a song he rolls his eyes. He said jokingly just the other day, and I quote, "If I knew you loved every song I ever hated, I don't think I would have married you." What I just purchased may cause divorce. Mind you, the songs are only .99 but some of my songs I know my husband would pay to have erased from music history. A few examples include:
Cyndi Lauper-basically anything she ever sang
Celine Dion-see Cyndi Lauper
Elton John-Don't get me started on the conversations we have had about him!
Pink-He says only teenagers listen to her
I have secretly loved "Mandy" by Barry Manilow for years. I know, please don't hate. This song came out the year I was born, as well as a Don Williams song "Amanda". I think this is where my name came from as well as my nickname "Mandie". For years I have sighed and rolled my eyes at the mention of the Manilow song. I don't know when I started to like it but I certainly could never admit it. Well, I just spent .99 of our hard earned money on this song. I also bought two other songs but I just don't think he can handle too much at one time.
If he kicks me out you may find me homeless, with my sign saying:
"Please Help, Need Money For iTunes."
I have an iPod. No, that's not the confession. It's what I put on my iPod. I have bought lots and lots of songs since I was given this amazing gadget, by my husband, ironically. I am addicted to this thing. I think my husband secretly wishes I would lose the thing now. We have gone round and round about the songs I put on it.
You see I love the 80's and every horrible song in that decade. I also love the 50's. This is my mom's fault. I grew up on that music. Love it! Anyways, everytime I buy a song he rolls his eyes. He said jokingly just the other day, and I quote, "If I knew you loved every song I ever hated, I don't think I would have married you." What I just purchased may cause divorce. Mind you, the songs are only .99 but some of my songs I know my husband would pay to have erased from music history. A few examples include:
Cyndi Lauper-basically anything she ever sang
Celine Dion-see Cyndi Lauper
Elton John-Don't get me started on the conversations we have had about him!
Pink-He says only teenagers listen to her
I have secretly loved "Mandy" by Barry Manilow for years. I know, please don't hate. This song came out the year I was born, as well as a Don Williams song "Amanda". I think this is where my name came from as well as my nickname "Mandie". For years I have sighed and rolled my eyes at the mention of the Manilow song. I don't know when I started to like it but I certainly could never admit it. Well, I just spent .99 of our hard earned money on this song. I also bought two other songs but I just don't think he can handle too much at one time.
If he kicks me out you may find me homeless, with my sign saying:
"Please Help, Need Money For iTunes."
Saturday, September 1, 2007
I Told You So
This one is for my husband. I know I will never hear the end of it.
There are many lessons learned in life. Some hard, some not. This particular lesson I learned was definitely a hard one. My father tried to teach this lesson to me, and after I got married, my husband has tried to teach me.
Never let your gas tank get below 1/4 of a tank of gas. Sounds simple enough. The reasons are numerous as to why this is good practice. I experienced a few of these reasons while learning my hard lesson.
My day started out with almost 1/2 tank of gas. I went to lunch with a friend who works about 30 minutes away. After lunch I had to drive another 30 minutes to pick up another friend at school whose car had broke down. It was about this time that I felt the slight grumble in my stomach from lunch. No big deal, yet. We then drove to pick up her daughter from school and took them home.
By this time my gas tank is inching toward E and my stomach is slightly more angry at me for all the pizza I had at lunch.
My friend lives about 20 minutes from me. To get home from her house I have to drive through one of the worst neighborhoods in Memphis. She lives in a nice area of Memphis, but it is one of those places where if you go a mile or two in a particular direction you are in a place you don't want to be.
I know you are wondering why I don't stop and get gas when I am in a good neighborhood and my stomach is not so bad. Well, I am cheap, and an optimist. The gas is much more expensive in her neighborhood, and I think I can make it.
I am driving home and I know I won't be able to stop for gas for a little while and my stomach is hurting like hell now. I am in quite a dilemma. One, I don't want to stop in this neighborhood to get gas. Two, I don't want to run out of gas in this neighborhood. Three, I don't know if I can get out of the van to pump the gas now that I have to go to the bathroom so very badly. Four, if I run out of gas, I have to call my husband and tell him.
A quick side note: number four is very bad since I ran out of gas with him in my van not so long ago. There was walking, 100 degree heat, cussing,......very bad. I swore I would never let my tank get that low again. I will, in my own defense, say that was the first time I have ever run out of gas in my 15 year driving history. He was not impressed by this accomplishment in the least at the time.
I choose to ride it out until I get to Southaven, praying silently that we make it, and then when we do, I can get gas without having an accident.
We do make it to Southaven and I am able to get gas without a scene. After the gas station, I start a lecture to my two and four year old.
"Now listen guys. Mommy has to go to the potty very, very badly. Sarah, when we get onto our street I want you to unbuckle Colin. Colin, when we get home, I want you and Sarah to immediately follow me to the door and into the house. I don't want to have to ask you five times.
We get to our driveway and I'm like a drill sergeant. "Get out of the van! MOVE IT, MOVE IT!! Faster guys, faster!" They run as fast as their little legs can go. God bless them. We made it with no casualties.
There are many lessons learned in life. Some hard, some not. This particular lesson I learned was definitely a hard one. My father tried to teach this lesson to me, and after I got married, my husband has tried to teach me.
Never let your gas tank get below 1/4 of a tank of gas. Sounds simple enough. The reasons are numerous as to why this is good practice. I experienced a few of these reasons while learning my hard lesson.
My day started out with almost 1/2 tank of gas. I went to lunch with a friend who works about 30 minutes away. After lunch I had to drive another 30 minutes to pick up another friend at school whose car had broke down. It was about this time that I felt the slight grumble in my stomach from lunch. No big deal, yet. We then drove to pick up her daughter from school and took them home.
By this time my gas tank is inching toward E and my stomach is slightly more angry at me for all the pizza I had at lunch.
My friend lives about 20 minutes from me. To get home from her house I have to drive through one of the worst neighborhoods in Memphis. She lives in a nice area of Memphis, but it is one of those places where if you go a mile or two in a particular direction you are in a place you don't want to be.
I know you are wondering why I don't stop and get gas when I am in a good neighborhood and my stomach is not so bad. Well, I am cheap, and an optimist. The gas is much more expensive in her neighborhood, and I think I can make it.
I am driving home and I know I won't be able to stop for gas for a little while and my stomach is hurting like hell now. I am in quite a dilemma. One, I don't want to stop in this neighborhood to get gas. Two, I don't want to run out of gas in this neighborhood. Three, I don't know if I can get out of the van to pump the gas now that I have to go to the bathroom so very badly. Four, if I run out of gas, I have to call my husband and tell him.
A quick side note: number four is very bad since I ran out of gas with him in my van not so long ago. There was walking, 100 degree heat, cussing,......very bad. I swore I would never let my tank get that low again. I will, in my own defense, say that was the first time I have ever run out of gas in my 15 year driving history. He was not impressed by this accomplishment in the least at the time.
I choose to ride it out until I get to Southaven, praying silently that we make it, and then when we do, I can get gas without having an accident.
We do make it to Southaven and I am able to get gas without a scene. After the gas station, I start a lecture to my two and four year old.
"Now listen guys. Mommy has to go to the potty very, very badly. Sarah, when we get onto our street I want you to unbuckle Colin. Colin, when we get home, I want you and Sarah to immediately follow me to the door and into the house. I don't want to have to ask you five times.
We get to our driveway and I'm like a drill sergeant. "Get out of the van! MOVE IT, MOVE IT!! Faster guys, faster!" They run as fast as their little legs can go. God bless them. We made it with no casualties.
Once Bitten, Twice Shy
I was picking up Sarah from preschool yesterday and had my son Colin with me. We got there pretty early so we had time to kill. I turned the van off and let him out of his car seat. He found plenty to get into, including some gum.
Now Colin is always very particular when he opens his gum about always putting the wrapper in the trash. He opened the piece I gave him, gave me the wrapper, and went about his business. Little did I know at the time he snagged an extra piece. This will be relevant to the other part of the story.
It came to be close to time for Sarah to be coming out so I got up and had to wrestle him back in his car seat (which, by the way, sits directly behind my seat).
I was picking her buddy Jacob up also and I have to buckle him in his seat when he rides with us. I see the two of them come out of the building, and I get out of the van to go around to the side where he will be sitting. Well, when I got of the van I felt something in my pants. Get your mind out of the gutter - it felt like something had crawled down the back of my pants.
I stood there, frozen. I didn't know what to do. There are cars of parents lined up behind me, all eyes forward. Do I stick my hand down the back of my jeans to find out what in the world it is, completely and utterly mortified, or do I risk being stung or bitten by whatever I think is there?
My mind goes back to Halloween night about 25 years ago when I was completely stripped of my costume in the middle of the street by my father when I thought a bee had been trapped in there.
I choose to risk the sting or the bite. I walk as slowly as possible around the side of the van. I smile at the teacher, try to make small talk, praying silently that it won't hurt too bad. I buckle Jacob and walk back around to get in the van. I close the door and pull forward. My mind is racing and although I don't want to be stung or bitten, I don't want to stick my hand back there and find out what it is.
I finally do it and it is...........a gum wrapper.
Now Colin is always very particular when he opens his gum about always putting the wrapper in the trash. He opened the piece I gave him, gave me the wrapper, and went about his business. Little did I know at the time he snagged an extra piece. This will be relevant to the other part of the story.
It came to be close to time for Sarah to be coming out so I got up and had to wrestle him back in his car seat (which, by the way, sits directly behind my seat).
I was picking her buddy Jacob up also and I have to buckle him in his seat when he rides with us. I see the two of them come out of the building, and I get out of the van to go around to the side where he will be sitting. Well, when I got of the van I felt something in my pants. Get your mind out of the gutter - it felt like something had crawled down the back of my pants.
I stood there, frozen. I didn't know what to do. There are cars of parents lined up behind me, all eyes forward. Do I stick my hand down the back of my jeans to find out what in the world it is, completely and utterly mortified, or do I risk being stung or bitten by whatever I think is there?
My mind goes back to Halloween night about 25 years ago when I was completely stripped of my costume in the middle of the street by my father when I thought a bee had been trapped in there.
I choose to risk the sting or the bite. I walk as slowly as possible around the side of the van. I smile at the teacher, try to make small talk, praying silently that it won't hurt too bad. I buckle Jacob and walk back around to get in the van. I close the door and pull forward. My mind is racing and although I don't want to be stung or bitten, I don't want to stick my hand back there and find out what it is.
I finally do it and it is...........a gum wrapper.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Bring on the Pain
Sarah had to go to the doctor for this today. I only noticed it last night but this morning she said what every mom loves to hear, "Mom, my finger is kinda green." Oh great, now her finger is going to rot off. It's her middle finger too, and I know she will be needing that later in life.
We called the doc and were set to go at 10:45. Sarah loves her doctor. She gets all giddy and excited at the mere mention of his name. I was thinking about how her poor bubble would be burst today because he would probably actually have to hurt her today. You know with shot time he comes in and jokes and laughs and sends the nurse in to do the dirty work so he never has to look like the bad guy. Now that I think about it, he has a pretty good thing going on. I wish I had a substitute to be the bad guy for me. Oh wait, I do, it's my husband! He he.
Meanwhile, back at doctor's office.....we wait and he comes in. Grins, giggles, and hugs. She hops right up on the table, proudly sticks her middle finger up and says, "See my finger? It hurts." He giggles and says "Yep, I bet it does. Let's see if we can fix it."
I had to ask him if I was a horrible parent for not noticing this grotesque thing on her finger and he reassured me it can happen quite quickly.
He comes back a few minutes later. I know what's coming. He is going to have to either cut it or poke it with something and mush all that nasty stuff out of it. I'm mentally preparing myself. I tell her to look at me and we will decide what to have for lunch. As we are discussing lunch he pokes her finger with a needle.
She glares and says "Ow!"
He mushes on it and each times it's a mad "Ow!"
He finishes, she looks at it, gets a pink band-aid, gives him a hug, and hops off the table. I am shocked. He says normally this takes at least two nurses and him to do. I must say, in a way, I'm not surprised.
We were in the van after the visit and I said, "Now, Sarah, you have to wash your hands real good and stop biting your fingernails."
"Why, momma?"
"That's why your finger was hurting. If you don't keep it clean and stop biting your nails we will have to come back to see the doctor and he will have to fix it again."
"Oh goody!"
"Oh God."
We called the doc and were set to go at 10:45. Sarah loves her doctor. She gets all giddy and excited at the mere mention of his name. I was thinking about how her poor bubble would be burst today because he would probably actually have to hurt her today. You know with shot time he comes in and jokes and laughs and sends the nurse in to do the dirty work so he never has to look like the bad guy. Now that I think about it, he has a pretty good thing going on. I wish I had a substitute to be the bad guy for me. Oh wait, I do, it's my husband! He he.
Meanwhile, back at doctor's office.....we wait and he comes in. Grins, giggles, and hugs. She hops right up on the table, proudly sticks her middle finger up and says, "See my finger? It hurts." He giggles and says "Yep, I bet it does. Let's see if we can fix it."
I had to ask him if I was a horrible parent for not noticing this grotesque thing on her finger and he reassured me it can happen quite quickly.
He comes back a few minutes later. I know what's coming. He is going to have to either cut it or poke it with something and mush all that nasty stuff out of it. I'm mentally preparing myself. I tell her to look at me and we will decide what to have for lunch. As we are discussing lunch he pokes her finger with a needle.
She glares and says "Ow!"
He mushes on it and each times it's a mad "Ow!"
He finishes, she looks at it, gets a pink band-aid, gives him a hug, and hops off the table. I am shocked. He says normally this takes at least two nurses and him to do. I must say, in a way, I'm not surprised.
We were in the van after the visit and I said, "Now, Sarah, you have to wash your hands real good and stop biting your fingernails."
"Why, momma?"
"That's why your finger was hurting. If you don't keep it clean and stop biting your nails we will have to come back to see the doctor and he will have to fix it again."
"Oh goody!"
"Oh God."
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Sarah B
Today was Sarah's first day of preschool. She was so excited. She also found out that her very best friend (our next door neighbor) Jacob was going to be in her class.
Me and Jacob's mom rode together to take them to school. We got there and Sarah screamed "Look, there's my school momma!" My heart sank just a teeny little bit.
Sarah is my independent child. She wants to do everything herself, her way. She has wanted to go to school since her big sister Gracie has been going. She is as fearless as they come. It will be a race between her and Colin as to which one will be my first emergency room visit.
Sarah is very dramatic and matter of fact. She always speaks her mind and pushes limits every chance she gets. To her, whatever she is doing is worth whatever trouble she might get in. Her daddy and I have often joked that Sarah would never be a victim of peer pressure, she would be the pressure getting the other kids into trouble.
I love her spirit. It is wild and true and I love her dearly for this. I guess part of me is not ready to let her go yet, even though she has been ready since birth. I have been trying to keep her close but all she wants to do is go. I still get cuddles and kisses but I cherish them. I can see Sarah when she grows up, being halfway around the world on some adventure, and only getting to see her when she "happens" to be in this part of the country.
For now, I get to read bed time stories, kiss her goodnight, and snuggle under the covers with her.......for now.
Me and Jacob's mom rode together to take them to school. We got there and Sarah screamed "Look, there's my school momma!" My heart sank just a teeny little bit.
Sarah is my independent child. She wants to do everything herself, her way. She has wanted to go to school since her big sister Gracie has been going. She is as fearless as they come. It will be a race between her and Colin as to which one will be my first emergency room visit.
Sarah is very dramatic and matter of fact. She always speaks her mind and pushes limits every chance she gets. To her, whatever she is doing is worth whatever trouble she might get in. Her daddy and I have often joked that Sarah would never be a victim of peer pressure, she would be the pressure getting the other kids into trouble.
I love her spirit. It is wild and true and I love her dearly for this. I guess part of me is not ready to let her go yet, even though she has been ready since birth. I have been trying to keep her close but all she wants to do is go. I still get cuddles and kisses but I cherish them. I can see Sarah when she grows up, being halfway around the world on some adventure, and only getting to see her when she "happens" to be in this part of the country.
For now, I get to read bed time stories, kiss her goodnight, and snuggle under the covers with her.......for now.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
I'll Take Mustard Yellow for $500 Alex
I must warn you before you read. This post is about dirty diapers. If this makes you ill, don't read. I know, you are wondering "Why dirty diapers?" Of all the subjects in the world, "Why?"Because I have a boring life and I want to share my boredom with you.
My little boy Colin is still in diapers. I am living for non-diaper days. Want to know why? I am tired of playing the guessing game. What, may you ask is the guessing game. Well, after your child finishes eating baby food and is eating regular people food you get to do a guessing game when you change the dirty diaper the next day. Not that you have to participate in this, but when you open a nasty, stinking, thinking something died in there diaper, you kinda wonder, "What the Hell did you eat! Especially if it's not the typical brown color.
Yesterday morning for instance. Bright red. My first irrational thought was "Oh my God, he is bleeding, he has cancer." Then my rational side remembered we had Sloppy Joe's for supper. Tomato sauce, red, you get the game now.
My favorite is Lucky Charms poop. This is always a bright green. I don't know why the green clovers prevail over the yellow moon, or blue diamonds. Go figure. Ha ha, blue poop. The closest he came to that was the diaper after eating purple play-dough. Play dough was banned from my house after that.
Another one worth note is strawberries. No, not the red but the little seeds that their tummies can't digest. You open that diaper and think you have a colony of bugs in there. Always a bit scary for a second or two.
One more thing and then I swear, not another word about poop. Well, maybe I'll have to post when he finally poops in the potty. Boredom people, boredom.
Boy's poop smells a hundred times worse than girls. You can smell my son's dirty diapers from space. Call me crazy, but I swear there is something in a male's stomach that digests differently than a female. You will know if you are blessed enough to have a boy and a girl.
Now that you know I have absolutely nothing else going on in my life, have a good day.
My little boy Colin is still in diapers. I am living for non-diaper days. Want to know why? I am tired of playing the guessing game. What, may you ask is the guessing game. Well, after your child finishes eating baby food and is eating regular people food you get to do a guessing game when you change the dirty diaper the next day. Not that you have to participate in this, but when you open a nasty, stinking, thinking something died in there diaper, you kinda wonder, "What the Hell did you eat! Especially if it's not the typical brown color.
Yesterday morning for instance. Bright red. My first irrational thought was "Oh my God, he is bleeding, he has cancer." Then my rational side remembered we had Sloppy Joe's for supper. Tomato sauce, red, you get the game now.
My favorite is Lucky Charms poop. This is always a bright green. I don't know why the green clovers prevail over the yellow moon, or blue diamonds. Go figure. Ha ha, blue poop. The closest he came to that was the diaper after eating purple play-dough. Play dough was banned from my house after that.
Another one worth note is strawberries. No, not the red but the little seeds that their tummies can't digest. You open that diaper and think you have a colony of bugs in there. Always a bit scary for a second or two.
One more thing and then I swear, not another word about poop. Well, maybe I'll have to post when he finally poops in the potty. Boredom people, boredom.
Boy's poop smells a hundred times worse than girls. You can smell my son's dirty diapers from space. Call me crazy, but I swear there is something in a male's stomach that digests differently than a female. You will know if you are blessed enough to have a boy and a girl.
Now that you know I have absolutely nothing else going on in my life, have a good day.
Borrowed Meme
Got this from Liz. As if you needed any more useless info about me.
Hi, my name is: Amanda
but u can call me: Amanda (by my friends), Mandie (by my family), Fuzzy (by my husband), Momma (by the kids)
Never in my life have I: been out of the United States
The one person who can drive me nuts is: A three way tie goes to my children
My high school was: Southaven High School
When I’m nervous: my stomach hurts and I get diarrhea
The last song I listened to was: Gwen Stefani: 4am
If I were to get married right now, my maid of honor would be: Amy, an undeniable true friend
My hair is: brown, in desperate need of a root touch up
When I was 4: It was 1979, sorry that's all I got. My memory sucks.
Last Christmas: We got our 8 year a 22 rifle. You would have though she won the lottery!
I should be: more patient
When I look down I see: My boobs.
The happiest recent event was: My husband got a SWEET bonus at work. Woo Hoo, shopping!
If I were a character on ‘Friends’ I’d be: Ross
By this time next year: I hope to have lost about 50 pounds
My current gripe is: The heat! I gotta agree with Liz on this one.
I have a hard time understanding: Math. If not for my husband I would have never passed it in high school
If I won an award, the first person I would tell would be: My husband
I want to buy: a new floor for my den.
If you visited the place I was born: You wouldn't be driving far from where I live now. I still live like twenty minutes from the house I was born in.
Where do you plan to visit: New York city
If you spent the night at my house: Expect to be woken up at 6:00 am
The world could do without: selfishness
Most recent thing I’ve bought myself: a Dr. Pepper
Most recent thing someone else bought me: Probably flowers, from when I was in the hospital
Out of my friends, my favorite blonde is: Rachel
My favorite brunette is: Amy
My favorite black hair is: Tonna
My favorite red head is: Don't know any
My middle name is: Oh, this a tough one for me. I don't think I will tell
In the morning I: fix breakfast, get Gracie off to school, wake up my husband, load the dishwasher, watch an episode of Spongebob or two, change a diaper or two
Last night I was: Depends on what time last night. One part I was watching Simpson's, the other part, well..........
The most important thing to me: is my family
If I was an animal I’d be a: sloth
A better name for me would be: Emotional
Tomorrow I am: going to do the same things I did today
Tonight I am: gonna clean a little, chill a little, probably eat too much
My birthday is: October 23
Hi, my name is: Amanda
but u can call me: Amanda (by my friends), Mandie (by my family), Fuzzy (by my husband), Momma (by the kids)
Never in my life have I: been out of the United States
The one person who can drive me nuts is: A three way tie goes to my children
My high school was: Southaven High School
When I’m nervous: my stomach hurts and I get diarrhea
The last song I listened to was: Gwen Stefani: 4am
If I were to get married right now, my maid of honor would be: Amy, an undeniable true friend
My hair is: brown, in desperate need of a root touch up
When I was 4: It was 1979, sorry that's all I got. My memory sucks.
Last Christmas: We got our 8 year a 22 rifle. You would have though she won the lottery!
I should be: more patient
When I look down I see: My boobs.
The happiest recent event was: My husband got a SWEET bonus at work. Woo Hoo, shopping!
If I were a character on ‘Friends’ I’d be: Ross
By this time next year: I hope to have lost about 50 pounds
My current gripe is: The heat! I gotta agree with Liz on this one.
I have a hard time understanding: Math. If not for my husband I would have never passed it in high school
If I won an award, the first person I would tell would be: My husband
I want to buy: a new floor for my den.
If you visited the place I was born: You wouldn't be driving far from where I live now. I still live like twenty minutes from the house I was born in.
Where do you plan to visit: New York city
If you spent the night at my house: Expect to be woken up at 6:00 am
The world could do without: selfishness
Most recent thing I’ve bought myself: a Dr. Pepper
Most recent thing someone else bought me: Probably flowers, from when I was in the hospital
Out of my friends, my favorite blonde is: Rachel
My favorite brunette is: Amy
My favorite black hair is: Tonna
My favorite red head is: Don't know any
My middle name is: Oh, this a tough one for me. I don't think I will tell
In the morning I: fix breakfast, get Gracie off to school, wake up my husband, load the dishwasher, watch an episode of Spongebob or two, change a diaper or two
Last night I was: Depends on what time last night. One part I was watching Simpson's, the other part, well..........
The most important thing to me: is my family
If I was an animal I’d be a: sloth
A better name for me would be: Emotional
Tomorrow I am: going to do the same things I did today
Tonight I am: gonna clean a little, chill a little, probably eat too much
My birthday is: October 23
Monday, August 13, 2007
Gracie
I dropped my Gracie off at her first day of school yesterday. She will be in 3rd grade! A lot of my own memories start at about the 3rd grade. We moved to Southaven that year, I started gymnastics, and I met my very best friend that year also.
As she kissed me goodbye (yes, thank God she still loves me enough to do that) I got a lump in my throat. I remember so very clearly the day she was born, Hell, the day I found out I was pregnant with her. Something about that first child is different. Every memory is so clear and precise. I had never wanted anything more than to have children and raise a family.
She was "Gracie" all through my pregnancy. Everyone kept saying "What if it's a boy? How do you know it's a girl?" I knew. I had never been more sure of anything ever. She was born early but with no complications. Time seemed to speed up after she was born.
We got a video camera when she was about 4 months old. I have never cherished anything more. Those videos I have of her and our other children are priceless. That was the best money we ever spent. To hear their little voices, first walks, birthdays, all of it is unbelievable to watch years later.
When she was 3 we had Sarah, then at age 5 we had Colin. She has been a wonderful big sister to them both. She is, more often than not, very patient with them. VERY protective of them. She is fast approaching the age where she needs her space though. I dread the next phase in her life. This pre-teen stage I feel is going to be hard for her. Already she is an extremely emotional child, sensitive might be a better word. I wonder where that could have come from?
I look at her in amazement sometimes. She has this personality that knocks the socks off of you. She is confident, yet slightly reserved at times, but does not embarrass easily at all. This is a girl, who at age 8, can fart on command. Gracie is also stunningly beautiful though. I can see her years from now in a beauty contest, but before she goes strutting on stage, letting one rip. She loves to sing, and will sing for anyone, anywhere. She also has such a tender heart toward people. I am so proud of her.
I remember when she was just a baby looking at her, wondering how she would look when she got older. What her voice would sound like, her personality. I know she has a lot of growing to do, and in the grand scheme of things 3rd grade is not really a major milestone. I guess I'm just overly emotional right now.
I can't wait to pick her up and find out how her first day went. Hopefully well, with no major upsets.
In a couple of weeks I will be taking Sarah to her first day of preschool. Get ready for another sappy post.
As she kissed me goodbye (yes, thank God she still loves me enough to do that) I got a lump in my throat. I remember so very clearly the day she was born, Hell, the day I found out I was pregnant with her. Something about that first child is different. Every memory is so clear and precise. I had never wanted anything more than to have children and raise a family.
She was "Gracie" all through my pregnancy. Everyone kept saying "What if it's a boy? How do you know it's a girl?" I knew. I had never been more sure of anything ever. She was born early but with no complications. Time seemed to speed up after she was born.
We got a video camera when she was about 4 months old. I have never cherished anything more. Those videos I have of her and our other children are priceless. That was the best money we ever spent. To hear their little voices, first walks, birthdays, all of it is unbelievable to watch years later.
When she was 3 we had Sarah, then at age 5 we had Colin. She has been a wonderful big sister to them both. She is, more often than not, very patient with them. VERY protective of them. She is fast approaching the age where she needs her space though. I dread the next phase in her life. This pre-teen stage I feel is going to be hard for her. Already she is an extremely emotional child, sensitive might be a better word. I wonder where that could have come from?
I look at her in amazement sometimes. She has this personality that knocks the socks off of you. She is confident, yet slightly reserved at times, but does not embarrass easily at all. This is a girl, who at age 8, can fart on command. Gracie is also stunningly beautiful though. I can see her years from now in a beauty contest, but before she goes strutting on stage, letting one rip. She loves to sing, and will sing for anyone, anywhere. She also has such a tender heart toward people. I am so proud of her.
I remember when she was just a baby looking at her, wondering how she would look when she got older. What her voice would sound like, her personality. I know she has a lot of growing to do, and in the grand scheme of things 3rd grade is not really a major milestone. I guess I'm just overly emotional right now.
I can't wait to pick her up and find out how her first day went. Hopefully well, with no major upsets.
In a couple of weeks I will be taking Sarah to her first day of preschool. Get ready for another sappy post.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
What a Weekend
Started off on Saturday going swimming with the children, Crystal, Liz, and Stephanie (Sorry Stephanie, if you have a blog, and I knew the name, I would link you too!) I had a blast, even though it felt like we were in Hell, it was so freakin hot!
There was hilarious drama that went on. Short version, Liz told a loafing father to pay attention to his daughter. She had been jumping in the pool on top of other kids, on purpose, and when that didn't get Daddy's attention, she threw a small plastic table in the pool. There was cussing, by Liz and the father, yelling by, Liz and the father, and cheering, by the other parents that someone finally told the father to pay attention. Quite a show indeed.
Colin jumped right into a swim ring and grabbed onto any stranger who would have him. Normally, he sticks his toe in and then is ready to get out. The people at the pool were very gracious, and by the end of the afternoon were all taking turns playing with him. His smile is one you can't refuse.
Sarah jumped right in, without a swim ring, and was practically swimming by herself. She is my fearless one. I caught her at one point fixing to dive right into the 7 foot part of the pool. She just couldn't understand why I would not let her go in.
Gracie spent her time with Virginia, under the water exploring with goggles on, when she wasn't flipping off the side of the pool. That is until Virginia discovered there were lots of bugs in the water you couldn't necessarily see if you didn't have goggles. She does not like bugs.
After an afternoon of swimming, my family and I went to Crystal's for dinner. It was fabulous. She grilled steak, burgers, and brats. This was just stuff she had lying around in the freezer, go figure.
It was a little odd being at her house. Imagine you have read this wonderful book and then you are able to go to the place where this book was set and meet the people in the book. As I was sitting at her house, it was like being in this "fictitious" place that I had only read about. Meeting her husband, her kids, the dogs, it was great.
Sunday.....nothing. Oh well.
Oh, I almost forgot, I got a bag full of Blogher stuff from Crystal. Not lame stuff either. A huge pen, a notebook, a couple of condoms, some motion lotion, and of course, one of the infamous pink dildos. My next post could be interesting.
There was hilarious drama that went on. Short version, Liz told a loafing father to pay attention to his daughter. She had been jumping in the pool on top of other kids, on purpose, and when that didn't get Daddy's attention, she threw a small plastic table in the pool. There was cussing, by Liz and the father, yelling by, Liz and the father, and cheering, by the other parents that someone finally told the father to pay attention. Quite a show indeed.
Colin jumped right into a swim ring and grabbed onto any stranger who would have him. Normally, he sticks his toe in and then is ready to get out. The people at the pool were very gracious, and by the end of the afternoon were all taking turns playing with him. His smile is one you can't refuse.
Sarah jumped right in, without a swim ring, and was practically swimming by herself. She is my fearless one. I caught her at one point fixing to dive right into the 7 foot part of the pool. She just couldn't understand why I would not let her go in.
Gracie spent her time with Virginia, under the water exploring with goggles on, when she wasn't flipping off the side of the pool. That is until Virginia discovered there were lots of bugs in the water you couldn't necessarily see if you didn't have goggles. She does not like bugs.
After an afternoon of swimming, my family and I went to Crystal's for dinner. It was fabulous. She grilled steak, burgers, and brats. This was just stuff she had lying around in the freezer, go figure.
It was a little odd being at her house. Imagine you have read this wonderful book and then you are able to go to the place where this book was set and meet the people in the book. As I was sitting at her house, it was like being in this "fictitious" place that I had only read about. Meeting her husband, her kids, the dogs, it was great.
Sunday.....nothing. Oh well.
Oh, I almost forgot, I got a bag full of Blogher stuff from Crystal. Not lame stuff either. A huge pen, a notebook, a couple of condoms, some motion lotion, and of course, one of the infamous pink dildos. My next post could be interesting.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
A Day Off Work (Not the Good Kind)
I am home today with my children, one of whom is sick. The baby boy is running a fever of undetermined origin. Which simply put means, "No tummy ache, head ache, ear ache, new teeth, sore throat, or anything else I can come up with." He is acting ok, but he is hotter than a firecracker.
The day started at about 6:00 am. My dear little boy woke me up wanting apple juice. I obliged and we got back in the bed hoping he would fall back asleep. I knew he was still tired so I put on Tom and Jerry and started to doze back off.
I was awakened about twenty minutes later to the sound of two cats throwing themselves against the bedroom window where I was sleeping. They were hollering and hissing at each other along with the neighborhood roaming dog barking with them.
I am pissed at this point. I run and grab some shorts along with a broom ready to do severe injury to the animals.
Short side note: Normally I am very tolerant of animals. Love them, mostly........My affection for cats left about the time the 5 we have roaming the neighborhood started shitting in my flowerbed.
I fling the door open and the cats scatter. Except for one, who looks at me like, "What are you going to do?" I'll show you, I picked up the first thing I could get my hands on and chunked it at him. I then went after him with the broom. The cats scooted under their owner's garage door to safety. They were peeking out at me, laughing I'm sure, if cats could laugh.
It is then I notice more shit in my flowerbed. Only it isn't just cat shit. The neighbor's dog has decided to follow suit with the cats and use my flowerbed as a toilet. Lovely. I get to scoop all that up because if I don't, I can't sit on my own freaking front porch without it smelling like a litter box.
After my outside adventures, I come in and my son decides he needs to puke up his juice all over the recliner.
It's only 7:00 am.
The day started at about 6:00 am. My dear little boy woke me up wanting apple juice. I obliged and we got back in the bed hoping he would fall back asleep. I knew he was still tired so I put on Tom and Jerry and started to doze back off.
I was awakened about twenty minutes later to the sound of two cats throwing themselves against the bedroom window where I was sleeping. They were hollering and hissing at each other along with the neighborhood roaming dog barking with them.
I am pissed at this point. I run and grab some shorts along with a broom ready to do severe injury to the animals.
Short side note: Normally I am very tolerant of animals. Love them, mostly........My affection for cats left about the time the 5 we have roaming the neighborhood started shitting in my flowerbed.
I fling the door open and the cats scatter. Except for one, who looks at me like, "What are you going to do?" I'll show you, I picked up the first thing I could get my hands on and chunked it at him. I then went after him with the broom. The cats scooted under their owner's garage door to safety. They were peeking out at me, laughing I'm sure, if cats could laugh.
It is then I notice more shit in my flowerbed. Only it isn't just cat shit. The neighbor's dog has decided to follow suit with the cats and use my flowerbed as a toilet. Lovely. I get to scoop all that up because if I don't, I can't sit on my own freaking front porch without it smelling like a litter box.
After my outside adventures, I come in and my son decides he needs to puke up his juice all over the recliner.
It's only 7:00 am.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Here I Am
I didn't realize it had been almost a month since I sat down and wrote. Time sure flies. I actually only noticed how long it had been because I got a comment from someone I don't even know. Turns out it was Gnat. Very funny guy and a very talented artist. I was so excited.
He had an interesting post up today. It was listing 8 random facts about yourself and trying to get 8 others to do the same. I don't think I know 8 people to send this to so I'll just list 8 things for the enjoyment of the 2 other people that read my blog.
1. I am about as graceful as a drunk on roller skates. Cases in point: broke arm at 7 (running backwards trying to chase my dog), broke leg at 12 (walking down a stair, yes I said stair, not stairs), many sprains (just walking across the floor), casts, then surgery on my ankle at 16, split my head open at 31 (fainted from being sick).
2. I have only dated one person in my life and that is my husband. We met when I was 14 and he was my first date ever. We have been together ever since.
3. The one addiction I have in my life is Dr. Pepper. My husband and I had the bright idea to give up soft drinks for Lent one year. For you non-Catholics, Lent is the time between Ash Wednesday and Easter, about 40 days. It was the longest 40 days in my life. I was like a crack addict going through withdrawal. I would sit and stare at people who had Dr. Pepper and start to salivate with this crazed look in my eye. I think I might have scared a few people.
4. My boobs are huge. I have to go to a specialty shop to buy my bras. No $9.99 clearance bras at Wal-Mart for me. Nooo, I have to pay $40 for a strange old lady to measure me and stand around topless in a dressing room waiting for her to bring me a bra that my two year old son can fit his head in.
5. I love to go shooting. I own a Kahr 9 millimeter and I am a pretty good shot . Pretty good meaning if you come up on me and my kids and try to harm us we will be the only ones walking away from the encounter.
6. My biggest fear is probably death. I can not go to funerals and the thought of my own death, as well as those closest to me, terrifies me. Morbid, I know, I'm running out of things to write.
7. I get severely car sick. On our honeymoon we planned a trip to The Red Apple Inn in Greer's Ferry, Arkansas. I was so sick by the time we got there that there almost was no "wedding night" to speak of.
8. I sleep on my stomach with my toes hanging off the end of the bed, and usually with one foot out from under the covers. My husband HATES this.
He had an interesting post up today. It was listing 8 random facts about yourself and trying to get 8 others to do the same. I don't think I know 8 people to send this to so I'll just list 8 things for the enjoyment of the 2 other people that read my blog.
1. I am about as graceful as a drunk on roller skates. Cases in point: broke arm at 7 (running backwards trying to chase my dog), broke leg at 12 (walking down a stair, yes I said stair, not stairs), many sprains (just walking across the floor), casts, then surgery on my ankle at 16, split my head open at 31 (fainted from being sick).
2. I have only dated one person in my life and that is my husband. We met when I was 14 and he was my first date ever. We have been together ever since.
3. The one addiction I have in my life is Dr. Pepper. My husband and I had the bright idea to give up soft drinks for Lent one year. For you non-Catholics, Lent is the time between Ash Wednesday and Easter, about 40 days. It was the longest 40 days in my life. I was like a crack addict going through withdrawal. I would sit and stare at people who had Dr. Pepper and start to salivate with this crazed look in my eye. I think I might have scared a few people.
4. My boobs are huge. I have to go to a specialty shop to buy my bras. No $9.99 clearance bras at Wal-Mart for me. Nooo, I have to pay $40 for a strange old lady to measure me and stand around topless in a dressing room waiting for her to bring me a bra that my two year old son can fit his head in.
5. I love to go shooting. I own a Kahr 9 millimeter and I am a pretty good shot . Pretty good meaning if you come up on me and my kids and try to harm us we will be the only ones walking away from the encounter.
6. My biggest fear is probably death. I can not go to funerals and the thought of my own death, as well as those closest to me, terrifies me. Morbid, I know, I'm running out of things to write.
7. I get severely car sick. On our honeymoon we planned a trip to The Red Apple Inn in Greer's Ferry, Arkansas. I was so sick by the time we got there that there almost was no "wedding night" to speak of.
8. I sleep on my stomach with my toes hanging off the end of the bed, and usually with one foot out from under the covers. My husband HATES this.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Incoming!!!
I was having a fairly good morning as far as mornings go. No major breakfast incidents with the children. Normally I would have already cleaned up 2 spilled juice cups, at least 1 bowl of cereal from the floor, and broken up 5 fights of, "Moooom, he's eating my cereal........Momma, she got more than me.......Mom, he's eating his food and then showing it to everybody again." You get the picture.
Colin, the two year old, did happen to spill his juice, but not an entire cup full as usual. I had reached above the sink to get my bottle of orange scented Pine Sol to wipe the mess up.
Oh, by the way, there just happened to be a bowl of Double Cheeseburger Macaroni Hamburger Helper soaking in the sink from last night. If you happen to be a connoisseur of the famed Hamburger Helper, and you also don't always do your dishes immediately after dinner, you will know it does not smell nice the next morning.
As I went to grab for my bottle it slipped out of my hands and landed, oh yes, right in that nasty bowl of soaking cheese/noodle/hamburger/water. Let me tell you, you would have thought a bomb exploded in that sink. I should have ducked and covered. That water shot 5 feet in the air, as well as out of the sink, all over me. I was covered in that nastiness.
I'm going to bathe now.
Colin, the two year old, did happen to spill his juice, but not an entire cup full as usual. I had reached above the sink to get my bottle of orange scented Pine Sol to wipe the mess up.
Oh, by the way, there just happened to be a bowl of Double Cheeseburger Macaroni Hamburger Helper soaking in the sink from last night. If you happen to be a connoisseur of the famed Hamburger Helper, and you also don't always do your dishes immediately after dinner, you will know it does not smell nice the next morning.
As I went to grab for my bottle it slipped out of my hands and landed, oh yes, right in that nasty bowl of soaking cheese/noodle/hamburger/water. Let me tell you, you would have thought a bomb exploded in that sink. I should have ducked and covered. That water shot 5 feet in the air, as well as out of the sink, all over me. I was covered in that nastiness.
I'm going to bathe now.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
I Feel So Loved
My dear, oldest, child Gracie is truthful, almost to a fault. She is the sweetest, kindest, child, of any I know, and would never hurt anyone intentionally. She does, however, tell it like it is.
We were in the van today and the subject of the hospital came up. Now, I was in the hospital for a week back in March of this year after being very ill for 3 weeks prior. While I was in the hospital my mother-in-law brought the children to see me toward the end of my stay.
Gracie says "I'm sorry I didn't come see you more at the hospital when you were there." I told her it was ok. It wasn't like she could drive herself up there. She then says "Well, Mrs. Lora and Nina asked if I wanted to go but I said no." I see her fidgeting in her seat and I don't want her feeling guilty and upset that she didn't come see me. I try to make her feel better.
"Gracie, it's ok. I know it was scary when I was in the hospital. You probably didn't want to see me hurt and........."
"No, momma, I was just having too much fun. I was playing and I didn't want to leave. Is that ok?"
"Yes honey, that's ok."
That's my Gracie!
We were in the van today and the subject of the hospital came up. Now, I was in the hospital for a week back in March of this year after being very ill for 3 weeks prior. While I was in the hospital my mother-in-law brought the children to see me toward the end of my stay.
Gracie says "I'm sorry I didn't come see you more at the hospital when you were there." I told her it was ok. It wasn't like she could drive herself up there. She then says "Well, Mrs. Lora and Nina asked if I wanted to go but I said no." I see her fidgeting in her seat and I don't want her feeling guilty and upset that she didn't come see me. I try to make her feel better.
"Gracie, it's ok. I know it was scary when I was in the hospital. You probably didn't want to see me hurt and........."
"No, momma, I was just having too much fun. I was playing and I didn't want to leave. Is that ok?"
"Yes honey, that's ok."
That's my Gracie!
Saturday, June 30, 2007
I Will Never Shop With That Boy Again
So, yesterday I decided since my son already woke me up at 6:13 this morning, I would go ahead and do the week's grocery shopping. I loaded him up, and off to Wal-Mart we go. I had high hopes that since Sarah wasn't with us, he would behave. You see Colin by himself and Sarah by herself is ok. Together, well, I'm reminded of Die Hard 3 when the guy is explaining the explosive stuff in the bombs. If you mix them together, it's bad.
Things went quite well until check-out time. I had to get him out of the basket to put the bread in where he usually sits. I'm paying for groceries when he darts out of site. I'm looking around, and I holler for him. He hollers back, from inside the locked hair salon! This hair salon has these chains across the front doors that go from the floor to the ceiling. He lifted the bottom up just enough to fit his little tail through.
I'm standing on the outside fuming, he's on the inside grinning. I yell for him to come out, and he almost does, until he realizes I can't come in and get him. This is where the fun really begins. You can see the excitement on his face. He starts making circles around the chairs yelling and giggling. At any moment I'm expecting the giant tower of shampoo to hit the floor.
I don't normally beg my children to do anything, but I was pleading with this child to come out. The destruction that this boy can create is immense. I tried walking away. You know, pretending I was going to leave him. I said "Bye Colin. I'm leaving." He says "No, mama, I coming." I stop to wait for him, turn around, and he giggles and starts making circles again.
I stopped one of the employees to ask if they had a key for the place. She says no, it is privately owned and they rent the space from Wal-Mart. I tell her about Colin and she can hardly contain herself. The more she laughs the more wound up Colin gets. He has an audience now.
I threaten him with a paddle, then with his father. Nothing is working. The nice employee then says "Colin, would you like some candy?" I'm thinking, "This is never going to work." I was wrong. Out he came.
Things went quite well until check-out time. I had to get him out of the basket to put the bread in where he usually sits. I'm paying for groceries when he darts out of site. I'm looking around, and I holler for him. He hollers back, from inside the locked hair salon! This hair salon has these chains across the front doors that go from the floor to the ceiling. He lifted the bottom up just enough to fit his little tail through.
I'm standing on the outside fuming, he's on the inside grinning. I yell for him to come out, and he almost does, until he realizes I can't come in and get him. This is where the fun really begins. You can see the excitement on his face. He starts making circles around the chairs yelling and giggling. At any moment I'm expecting the giant tower of shampoo to hit the floor.
I don't normally beg my children to do anything, but I was pleading with this child to come out. The destruction that this boy can create is immense. I tried walking away. You know, pretending I was going to leave him. I said "Bye Colin. I'm leaving." He says "No, mama, I coming." I stop to wait for him, turn around, and he giggles and starts making circles again.
I stopped one of the employees to ask if they had a key for the place. She says no, it is privately owned and they rent the space from Wal-Mart. I tell her about Colin and she can hardly contain herself. The more she laughs the more wound up Colin gets. He has an audience now.
I threaten him with a paddle, then with his father. Nothing is working. The nice employee then says "Colin, would you like some candy?" I'm thinking, "This is never going to work." I was wrong. Out he came.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
When I Grow Up I Want To Be A.......What!!
First of all, it feels good to be writing again. I was in a bit of a funk and it greatly affected my perception of life. Nothing was funny. Even if it was funny, I didn't see it. It seems once my mood improved I started seeing the humor in things again. Now on to my story.
Me and the kids were visiting my sisters house yesterday. I was delivering some of my moms things over there and she was entertaining the kids while I unloaded. She happened to be talking to Gracie, my 8 year old, about what she wanted to be/do when she got older.
Gracie replied, "Well, for fun I want to be an artist. To make money I want to help people to cross the street."
My sister, not knowing exactly what she was talking about, asked her to elaborate. At this point in the story I'm thinking "A crossing guard?" Not quite....
"Like if people have cramps or something in their leg, I want to help them cross the street. You know, a street walker.
Oh my dear, sweet, innocent, Gracie. I think we need to come up with a new name for your "profession."
Me and the kids were visiting my sisters house yesterday. I was delivering some of my moms things over there and she was entertaining the kids while I unloaded. She happened to be talking to Gracie, my 8 year old, about what she wanted to be/do when she got older.
Gracie replied, "Well, for fun I want to be an artist. To make money I want to help people to cross the street."
My sister, not knowing exactly what she was talking about, asked her to elaborate. At this point in the story I'm thinking "A crossing guard?" Not quite....
"Like if people have cramps or something in their leg, I want to help them cross the street. You know, a street walker.
Oh my dear, sweet, innocent, Gracie. I think we need to come up with a new name for your "profession."
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
A Hard Lesson Learned
What would that lesson be you might ask? That lesson would be, Things Not to Put in Your Pee-Hole, learned by my two year old son.
My baby boy loves to be naked (who doesn't!). This particular morning was no different. He was also carrying around a small plastic stick of some sort. It was very small in diameter, (about the size of a two year old pee-hole) and about 12 inches long. Well, he had been playing with this stick like a sword all morning, so when the diaper came off I really didn't think anything about it. Wrong on my part.
He sat in the recliner, settled in to watch Spongebob. I turned my back to walk into the kitchen when I heard an "Ow, Ow, Ow." I wheeled around at the same time thinking, "Oh, please no." Sure enough, he was examining his goods with a very hurt look on his face. Thank God there was no damage done.
I guess in little boys mind it made perfect sense. I think he may need a father-son talk.
My baby boy loves to be naked (who doesn't!). This particular morning was no different. He was also carrying around a small plastic stick of some sort. It was very small in diameter, (about the size of a two year old pee-hole) and about 12 inches long. Well, he had been playing with this stick like a sword all morning, so when the diaper came off I really didn't think anything about it. Wrong on my part.
He sat in the recliner, settled in to watch Spongebob. I turned my back to walk into the kitchen when I heard an "Ow, Ow, Ow." I wheeled around at the same time thinking, "Oh, please no." Sure enough, he was examining his goods with a very hurt look on his face. Thank God there was no damage done.
I guess in little boys mind it made perfect sense. I think he may need a father-son talk.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
For My Dear Brother-In-Law
Were you named after anyone? Amanda was a popular name in 1975. Two horrible songs in that year bear my name. Mae was after my Grandmother. At least I didn't get her first name-Bertie!
When was the last time you cried? I cry all the time.
Do you like your handwriting? Not really, too late to do anything about now.
What is your favorite lunchmeat? Roasted turkey or cajun roast beef
Do you have kids? 3 beautiful kids, 2 girls and a boy
If you were another person would you be friends with you? I would like to think so
Do you use sarcasm alot? I try at times but I'm not very good at it
Do you still have your tonsils? Yes
Would you bungee jump? Never
What is your favorite cereal? Golden Crisp
Do you untie your shoes before you take them off? Nope
Do you think you are strong? yes
What is your favorite ice cream? Pralines and Cream from Baskin Robbins
What is the first thing you notice about people? Their speech, if they don't talk, their hair. I know, it makes no sense.
Red or pink? Pink
What is your least favorite thing about yourself? I wish I were more assertive
Who do you miss the most? Among the living, Chris. My Grandmaw who is no longer with us.
What color pants and shoes are you wearing? Tan shorts and sandals
What was the last thing you ate? A few bites of leftover Hamburger Helper
What are you listening to right now? Silence, my babies are napping
If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Green
Favorite smells? Cinnamon rolls baking, rib eye on the grill, ok anything on the grill
Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? My hubby
Favorite sports to watch? Football, Go Titans!!
Hair color? Umm, dark brown every 6 weeks, naturally, almost completely gray now
Eye color? Green
Do you wear contacts? No.
Favorite food? Medium well ribeye.
Scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies, except Halloween. It is my one weakness. I will not watch this movie.
Last movie you watched? I rarely ever make it through an entire movie without falling asleep. The last movie I attempted to watch was Jurassic Park.
What color shirt are you wearing? Red
Summer or winter? Summer. I HATE the cold.
Hugs or kisses? Hugs. They say a lot, they feel so good to give and to get.
Favorite dessert? Baklava, oh my Lord that stuff is good.
Most likely to respond? Didn't send it to anyone. Everyone I know has done it already
Least likely to respond? See above.
What book are you reading right now? None, I am ashamed to say
What is on your mouse pad? I don't have a mouse pad. My husband's mouse pad has a few bills on it.
What did you watch on TV last night? The 4400. Kick ass show.
Favorite sounds? My kids saying "Momma" and "I love you", my husband laughing, also (don't laugh) the sound a 20oz bottle of Dr. Pepper makes when you first open it.
Stones or Beatles? Beatles. Sorry B, I have hidden that from you for all these years.
What's the farthest you've been from home? San Antonio, TX
Do you have a special talent? Not really
Where were you born? Memphis, Tennessee
When was the last time you cried? I cry all the time.
Do you like your handwriting? Not really, too late to do anything about now.
What is your favorite lunchmeat? Roasted turkey or cajun roast beef
Do you have kids? 3 beautiful kids, 2 girls and a boy
If you were another person would you be friends with you? I would like to think so
Do you use sarcasm alot? I try at times but I'm not very good at it
Do you still have your tonsils? Yes
Would you bungee jump? Never
What is your favorite cereal? Golden Crisp
Do you untie your shoes before you take them off? Nope
Do you think you are strong? yes
What is your favorite ice cream? Pralines and Cream from Baskin Robbins
What is the first thing you notice about people? Their speech, if they don't talk, their hair. I know, it makes no sense.
Red or pink? Pink
What is your least favorite thing about yourself? I wish I were more assertive
Who do you miss the most? Among the living, Chris. My Grandmaw who is no longer with us.
What color pants and shoes are you wearing? Tan shorts and sandals
What was the last thing you ate? A few bites of leftover Hamburger Helper
What are you listening to right now? Silence, my babies are napping
If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Green
Favorite smells? Cinnamon rolls baking, rib eye on the grill, ok anything on the grill
Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? My hubby
Favorite sports to watch? Football, Go Titans!!
Hair color? Umm, dark brown every 6 weeks, naturally, almost completely gray now
Eye color? Green
Do you wear contacts? No.
Favorite food? Medium well ribeye.
Scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies, except Halloween. It is my one weakness. I will not watch this movie.
Last movie you watched? I rarely ever make it through an entire movie without falling asleep. The last movie I attempted to watch was Jurassic Park.
What color shirt are you wearing? Red
Summer or winter? Summer. I HATE the cold.
Hugs or kisses? Hugs. They say a lot, they feel so good to give and to get.
Favorite dessert? Baklava, oh my Lord that stuff is good.
Most likely to respond? Didn't send it to anyone. Everyone I know has done it already
Least likely to respond? See above.
What book are you reading right now? None, I am ashamed to say
What is on your mouse pad? I don't have a mouse pad. My husband's mouse pad has a few bills on it.
What did you watch on TV last night? The 4400. Kick ass show.
Favorite sounds? My kids saying "Momma" and "I love you", my husband laughing, also (don't laugh) the sound a 20oz bottle of Dr. Pepper makes when you first open it.
Stones or Beatles? Beatles. Sorry B, I have hidden that from you for all these years.
What's the farthest you've been from home? San Antonio, TX
Do you have a special talent? Not really
Where were you born? Memphis, Tennessee
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Not Always As It Appears
My husband recently sent me to Sportsman's Warehouse to pick up a pocket holster for his pistol. I know, you are wondering why he sent me instead of going himself. It just so happens I was going to Sonic to indulge in my craving for some ice cream and Sportsman's Warehouse is right up the street. Sounds silly, but this is how things go in my house.
My husband has had one of these said pocket holsters before, so I knew what he wanted. I'm also not a complete retard where guns are concerned. I'm quite proud of this fact truth be told. So, when my knowledge about guns and "gun things" is put into question, I get a little upset.
I have gone into this store, on more than one occasion, for holsters, snap caps, gun bags, you name it. This particular time I can't seem to find his holster. I call Brandon, tell him I can't find it, and he says to ask someone. I politely tell him it isn't here, and he insists that it is. Maybe they moved them or something he said.
What seemed like a nice enough gentleman comes up and asks if he can help me find something. I tell him exactly what I want. I tell him the kind of holster and also the make and model of the gun. He looks at me sideways.
"Well, I don't see what you're looking for here. Maybe your husband should come in with the pistol."
"No.....I'm here now, and I know what I'm looking for. My husband has had one before. You guys appear to be out of them."
"I just, I just, don't see that particular one here. Are you sure that's the kind you want? Maybe your husband really should come in with the pistol."
I see where he is going with this. The look on his face, and the way he was talking let me know right quick he didn't think I knew what I was talking about. He was talking down to me, like "This is man's stuff. Run along now, and bring you husband in so we can figure out what he wants because you couldn't possibly know."
That's fine...meet me on the gun range asshole, I'll show you what I know.
My husband has had one of these said pocket holsters before, so I knew what he wanted. I'm also not a complete retard where guns are concerned. I'm quite proud of this fact truth be told. So, when my knowledge about guns and "gun things" is put into question, I get a little upset.
I have gone into this store, on more than one occasion, for holsters, snap caps, gun bags, you name it. This particular time I can't seem to find his holster. I call Brandon, tell him I can't find it, and he says to ask someone. I politely tell him it isn't here, and he insists that it is. Maybe they moved them or something he said.
What seemed like a nice enough gentleman comes up and asks if he can help me find something. I tell him exactly what I want. I tell him the kind of holster and also the make and model of the gun. He looks at me sideways.
"Well, I don't see what you're looking for here. Maybe your husband should come in with the pistol."
"No.....I'm here now, and I know what I'm looking for. My husband has had one before. You guys appear to be out of them."
"I just, I just, don't see that particular one here. Are you sure that's the kind you want? Maybe your husband really should come in with the pistol."
I see where he is going with this. The look on his face, and the way he was talking let me know right quick he didn't think I knew what I was talking about. He was talking down to me, like "This is man's stuff. Run along now, and bring you husband in so we can figure out what he wants because you couldn't possibly know."
That's fine...meet me on the gun range asshole, I'll show you what I know.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Why?
I was on my way to drop my children off at the babysitters this morning. It was a leisurely drive. I actually left in plenty of time, so I wouldn't be rushing.
I am on Airways just coming across the overpass where Kellogg's is, and a Memphis police officer comes hauling ass out of a side street with lights and sirens. I look in my rear view mirror and I'm thinking, "He just got a serious call." I politely pull over to the far right hand lane when I notice he isn't flying past me. He's getting behind me.
Holy Mary, Mother of God!!!! You have got to be kidding me. I am not believing what is happening. Normally a speeding ticket is not the end of the world, but I just got one in West Memphis not 2 months ago, and my husband got one about a month ago. Why does God hate us?
Officer Who-the Fuck-Cares comes to the window and says, "I clocked you at 48. The speed limit here is 40."
Another perfectly good day ruined by this hell-hole of a city. I have got to get out of here.
I'm sorry B.
I am on Airways just coming across the overpass where Kellogg's is, and a Memphis police officer comes hauling ass out of a side street with lights and sirens. I look in my rear view mirror and I'm thinking, "He just got a serious call." I politely pull over to the far right hand lane when I notice he isn't flying past me. He's getting behind me.
Holy Mary, Mother of God!!!! You have got to be kidding me. I am not believing what is happening. Normally a speeding ticket is not the end of the world, but I just got one in West Memphis not 2 months ago, and my husband got one about a month ago. Why does God hate us?
Officer Who-the Fuck-Cares comes to the window and says, "I clocked you at 48. The speed limit here is 40."
Another perfectly good day ruined by this hell-hole of a city. I have got to get out of here.
I'm sorry B.
Monday, June 11, 2007
I Should Know Better By Now
My husband, I know, loves me. Keep this in mind. He has, shall we say, a unique sense of humor. He will often use his humor to make me feel better.
I spoke to a woman on Friday whom I have only exchanged emails with. I was nervous about having talked to her for the first time. I expressed my concerns to my husband. I was afraid I had talked too fast or said something stupid. What if she thought our personalities were too different? What if she thought I was an idiot?
He assured me I was thinking way too much and reminded me that our personalities were different and he didn't think I was an idiot.
I said, "Yeah, but I sleep with you."
His reply....."Maybe you can sleep with her too."
I walked right into that one.
I spoke to a woman on Friday whom I have only exchanged emails with. I was nervous about having talked to her for the first time. I expressed my concerns to my husband. I was afraid I had talked too fast or said something stupid. What if she thought our personalities were too different? What if she thought I was an idiot?
He assured me I was thinking way too much and reminded me that our personalities were different and he didn't think I was an idiot.
I said, "Yeah, but I sleep with you."
His reply....."Maybe you can sleep with her too."
I walked right into that one.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Dookie Talk
Normally I wouldn't post twice in one day, but Gracie, my oldest, said something to me today. It was one of those moments you wouldn't give back for all the tea in China. I know what you are thinking...
"Oh, what sweet thing did she say that almost had you in tears?"
You forget, she has half of my husband's DNA.
"Mom, my stomach hurts. You know when you have to poop you (lots of grunting and pushing noises). Well, I sneezed when I was taking a dook and now it made my stomach hurt."
"Oh, what sweet thing did she say that almost had you in tears?"
You forget, she has half of my husband's DNA.
"Mom, my stomach hurts. You know when you have to poop you (lots of grunting and pushing noises). Well, I sneezed when I was taking a dook and now it made my stomach hurt."
The Happy Seat
So I traded vehicles with a friend of mine yesterday. She had all the kids and I just had to go to work, so she took the mini van.
Her car has, shall we say, a few miles on it. It also has somewhat of a vibration to it when you idle. Some of you (my husband) probably know where this story is going. Chris, if you are reading you may want to stop. I don't want you looking at me funny next time you visit.
Anyways, I first noticed this vibration on my way to work. I hit a few red lights and thought
"Well, this is interesting."
So after work I hop into the car and there it is again. I stop at a light and start to get a "happy" sensation.
Two hours later, after finding all the longest red lights in Memphis, I go to pick my kids up.
My friend says "Wow, you sure had to work late."
"Yeah, uh, late flight. Really long day."
"Then why are you smiling?"
Her car has, shall we say, a few miles on it. It also has somewhat of a vibration to it when you idle. Some of you (my husband) probably know where this story is going. Chris, if you are reading you may want to stop. I don't want you looking at me funny next time you visit.
Anyways, I first noticed this vibration on my way to work. I hit a few red lights and thought
"Well, this is interesting."
So after work I hop into the car and there it is again. I stop at a light and start to get a "happy" sensation.
Two hours later, after finding all the longest red lights in Memphis, I go to pick my kids up.
My friend says "Wow, you sure had to work late."
"Yeah, uh, late flight. Really long day."
"Then why are you smiling?"
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Sleep, Sex, and a Hooker
It's funny to me how men and women think differently about the same situation. My dear mother-in-law is going to keep our children overnight on Friday. This is a big deal. The following is a conversation my husband and I had on the phone regarding this especially big deal.
"I forgot to mention that Amy wants us to go out to eat on Friday. Is that ok? I didn't know if you wanted to since we weren't going to have the kids."
He says "That's fine. We can do that too."
Too? I'm thinking, what else is there? I know I'm dreaming of a wonderful night of uninterrupted sleep. I'm awakened by....
"We are going to get our freak on all night long."
Of course, how could I be so silly.
I say "I feel a headache coming."
He says "I feel a hooker coming."
"Wonderful! Can you pay her extra not to scream? I still want my uninterrupted sleep."
I wonder if I gave her an extra $50 if she would stay and fix him breakfast.
"I forgot to mention that Amy wants us to go out to eat on Friday. Is that ok? I didn't know if you wanted to since we weren't going to have the kids."
He says "That's fine. We can do that too."
Too? I'm thinking, what else is there? I know I'm dreaming of a wonderful night of uninterrupted sleep. I'm awakened by....
"We are going to get our freak on all night long."
Of course, how could I be so silly.
I say "I feel a headache coming."
He says "I feel a hooker coming."
"Wonderful! Can you pay her extra not to scream? I still want my uninterrupted sleep."
I wonder if I gave her an extra $50 if she would stay and fix him breakfast.
Monday, June 4, 2007
I Did It Myself
Well, I feel kinda special. I set this up all by myself. It may not be the best blog but I did it myself. Usually I would get my husband to help me with all the computer stuff but I decided, what the hell, I can figure this out. Since this is my very first posting I will explain "The Gerard Factor". This is a running joke between my husband and his family. Quite a few years back it seemed nothing was going right for them. There always seemed to be something going wrong. It was like a black cloud hanging over. One day while sitting around pondering this (I'm sure after an exhausting day of everything going wrong) I believe it was my dear mother-in-law who finally coined the term. So now, whenever anything goes wrong that would only happen to one of them we call it "The Gerard Factor". Say for instance, you went to change the oil in your car. Sounds simple. Well, with "The Gerard Factor" you would not only spill oil all over the garage floor, you would have gotten the wrong oil filter. Oh, you got the box that said it was your oil filter but the oil filter in the box wasn't the one that was supposed to be in there. So you drive back to Auto Zone to get the right oil filter but they are out of them. Even though not 30 minutes ago there were at least 10 of them on the shelf. So you drive to 3 more stores to find the right one. Think that's the end of the story? No siree. You get a nail stuck in the tire so now you have to change a flat tire. You think, no way. I say come stay with us a month and see. This is my life since I married a Gerard and I wouldn't have it any other way.
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