a copy-cat post

with apologies to Tom & Joe...

Your Monster Profile

Behemoth Child You Feast On: Lasanga You Lurk Around In: Corn Fields You Especially Like to Torment: Crybabies

What's Your Monster Name?

Tomorrow

Tomorrow is the last day of school for my two older kids. The last day of 2nd grade for Mac... the last day of Kindergarten for Mic. The Diva starts pre-k next year (please, take a moment to say a prayer, mantra, whatever you like, for her teacher-to-be... she's gonna need it!)

I'm so very proud of my kids. They both will have awards assemblies tomorrow... and if all of the stars are aligned just right with the planets, I will be able to attend both.

Mic is stoked, thinking he is going to get a perfect attendance award (not sure about that one... but, I'll go with him on it for now).

Mac... this story is quite cute... they had a reading 'contest' of a sort. For reading a certain number of books (I can't recall the number, off hand), they get ice cream (they are combining an ice cream sundae party with their awards assembly). For five more books, they get toppings. For five *more* books, they get to add cookies. And, finally, for five *more*, they get to pick a prize from the treasure chest. Before school today, Mac had her cookies and set out today to earn the surprise. Guess what??? She got it!!! We'll find out tomorrow what it is :)

Mac keeps offering to share her sundae with me... Mic is promising to show me a good time in his classroom tomorrow. I've done something right :) It warms my heart to see such giving children whom (my apologies to the grammar police... I'm too lazy to look it up) are a product of us :)

Oh, and lest I forget The Diva... she only got out of bed *12* times tonight to tell me she loves me / get a kiss / get a hug / give a kiss / give a hug. Monster!

I'm sure I'll have plenty of pics to share tomorrow.

Until then... good night!

life's speed limit

Does life have a speed limit? Who gets to decide just what that limit is? Are there 'police' who can ticket you for going too fast or too slow? Should there be safety rules?

I reckon you could consider general health a good indicator of what a speed limit should be. In that case, your body would be it's own police... if you are going too fast, and you are physically compromised... then something will crash... a heart attack, for example. I suppose the safety rules, in this case, would be kinda like common sense... eat right, exercise, etc, etc, etc.

But what I'm talking about, I suppose, is more of an emotional speed limit. Ever have one of those days / weeks / months / LIVES, where you feel like you are just full throttle all the time? I mean, top speed, never slowing down, just going, going, going?

This, for me, translates to giving, giving, giving... to everyone around me. (I have to offer my disclaimer at this point... to all of those close to me who read this: Please, please do NOT read this to say that you are sucking the ever lovin' life out of me... YOU *aren't*... and you'll get it, in the end... I promise :) )

It's like life is sucking the life out of me. Constantly demanding that I give to everyone and everything around me, with or without my choosing.

A few things to clarify... 1) my kids - I would, without question, lay my life down for my children. I *never* feel like they are a burden to me. That's not to say that they aren't demanding... they absolutely are! They do suck the life out of me... but understand, that it is life that I happily give... rather enjoy having it sucked from me ;) 2) my husband - the true light of my life. My true love (insert cheesy moment here). I adore him, cherish him and love him with all I am. I quite happily give everything I possibly can to him, never feeling as if it's a burden... quite the opposite... giving to him keeps me going some days. I was just telling him, last night, that this is quite unusual for me, actually *enjoying* my mate's company after being with him for any length of time... at this point, in my previous long-terms, I've, to put it bluntly, grown weary of my 'significant's' company. Not the case at all with him. And that makes me happy :) 3) my family - pretty simple here... generally speaking, we just don't do that to each other. We happily give and take without resentment or misgivings. We're just there for each other... and that's understood.

Back to life... I suppose it's hard to explain. Life. The ins and outs of everyday stuff... just sucking the life outta ya. I, much to my dismay, tend to devote way too much energy to things that really don't deserve that amount of attention. I don't really understand it. Sometimes, I even do it at the expense of either #1, 2, or 3 above. How backwards is that? Slowly, I'm learning how to truly put things into perspective and to no longer be the doormat for certain people to wipe their feet on... a position I, at one point in my life, just unconsciously assumed... over and over again. Maybe it became expected? Maybe it just became auto-pilot for me? Who knows... and does it really matter?

So, what in the world does this have to do with a speed limit for ... what? What in the hell was the title of this post, anyway??? Jeez, Mrs. Rambler... go off on tangents, much? Helloooooo... remember us.... we're the ones who so graciously stepped into your little corner of the web to have a peek at your blog... yoo-hoo!!! We're beginning to wonder whyyyy-yyyyy?!?!?!??!

Ok... so, you feel like you just keep going, non-stop... giving all along the way. Going... never-stopping. I fall into bed... every ounce of my body hurting (related to previous 'pain management' post). Literally crashing, night after night. Sometimes, having to be awoken by my 8 year-old in the morning, because I either, forgot to set the alarm, or just turned it off and went back to sleep. Maybe I, in someway, thought I could just 'skip' that particular day... wouldn't that be nice? If you could see a tough day coming and just hang a "Do Not Disturb" sign on your life for that particular day. My problem is, the people who would *need* to read that sign, would just ignore it and walk right on in.

Ok, so apparently no real point to this post... but for some strange reason... I feel just a little bit better.

Tomorrow should certainly be easier... and, hopefully, hang steady for a few afterwards :)

Mic's first kiss

He's my only boy. The other two are (obviously) girls. I suppose every mother, in a way, dreads the day her boy comes home with his first girlfriend (or boyfriend, whatever the case may be). I still get to enjoy those big baby blues looking up at me at bedtime, announcing, "Mommy, when I grow up, I'm going to marry YOU!" Never mind all the reasons that will never happen, I cherish each and every time he tells me that.

Today, my boy had his first kiss. :: sniff :: :: sniff :: I wasn't quite ready for it... I had no time to prepare myself, no inclination whatsoever that this was coming... It just happened, out of the blue... and luckily, there was a camera around, so we could capture this 'rite of passage' for my son...







:: sigh :: Thank goodness that's out of the way!

somebody do the freakin' dishes!

Ok, so we had the party on Saturday. Which means Friday night and Saturday morning were spent in a hurried frenzy of cleaning. Now, we're not dirty people, but we're busy people. Three young kids, two of 'em in school, The Diva comfortably on her throne at home (for the time being). I work full-time outside of the home, Steve works full-time as The Diva's caretaker and the School Dad, not to mention the kazillion other irons he has in the fire. So, housework falls below life and just slightly above poking our eyes out with a soldering iron on our list of things to do. Don't get me wrong, we always have clean clothes to wear and the amount of mold in the toilet at any given time has yet to approach 'the cure for cancer' level... although, we've gotten scarily close!

So, yesterday was spent with our feet up, kids in and out of the pool... doing absolutely nothing... zip, zilch, nada!!! We just relaxed and had fun... Mic got a tattoo making sword thingy for his birthday, so by bath-time, the kids were covered in various pirate ship, skull and other pirate related tattoos. The kids requested a 'family movie night', so we copped and let them watch Beethoven's 4th (I had *no* idea they made a fourth one... it's actually kinda cute... kind of a Beethoven meets Freaky Friday). Popcorn and chocolate were the 'treats du jour'... they got to stay up late since we didn't have school today. KFC was the dinner menu... I'm tellin' ya... we didn't do a darn thing yesterday!!!

Today, however, someone simply MUST get off their ass and wash the dishes. The sink is piled so high, I have to rearrange just to fill the coffee pot. Steve and I sat down for a bowl of cereal just a few minutes ago. He said he had to wash a spoon just to be able to eat... I, on the other hand, used Nat's Gerber baby spoon (you know, the one with her name on it... c'mon... all you Mommies know you did it, too!)... because I couldn't even *get* to the sink, let alone wash a spoon (not really sure how he managed). I was going to take a picture to post here just to show you how awful it is, but thought better of it when I realized that that would be a really stupid thing to do... why in the world would I even consider doing a thing like that????

The upside????

..

our Saturday

Whew! Am I tired! Busy weekend, and it's only half over!!!

Just to update... the tragedy that was Mic's Friday... He came home unscathed! Apparently, he avoided a visit to the Principal's office... can you imagine his disappointment?? His consequence for hitting that kid was to miss out on the picnic in the park, and since the in school-suspension program happened to be full on Friday, he had to spend the time with one of the pre-kindergarten classes. I would imagine this sentence probably seemed worse than ISI to him... pre-k!?!?! egads!!! It turned out to be not so bad, tho... the class he had to go to turned out to be the teacher we have selected for Nat (our 4-year-old) to be in next year. So, she either was pleased to start meeting members of our family, or began to dread having any of his siblings in class... he was in there, after all, as a punishment. I think it will all work out for the best... my husband and I have both met and chatted with this teacher, and feel quite confident that all will work out just fine :) (and anyway, Mic said he got to play games and watch movies with the pre-k-ers, so even he came home with a smile on his face!)

So, we got the dreaded Friday out of the way... I did, however, take the opportunity to show him that the anticipation of the event is sometimes way worse than the actual happening. Whether or not he got that life lesson is yet to be seen, but I did my Mommy duty, nonetheless!!

Yesterday, we had Mic's birthday party. I won't go into the gory details... but it was a hit!! This was the first time since his Dad and I have been separated, about 3 years, that we have been able to have a party that included both sides of Mic's families in one place, to celebrate for the kids (the first time because, the grown-ups can't behave any better, sometimes much worse, than the kids... but I'll save that for a later vent). We had 40 or so people all in one place, just for him.

I've mentioned before what a great kid Mic is... and yesterday was no exception. He continues to amaze me with his kindness and gentle ways. The kid is only 6, right? As he was opening presents, he would take the time to read the card first... I mean actually *read* the card... not just rip open the envelope to have a peek so he could see who the gift was from... he would read the entire card... you could see his little lips moving as he was getting through it. All this, while he had a mass of other children around him trying to get him just to rip open the package. He didn't... slowly and methodically, he'd pass me the card, tell me who it was from, then turn his attention to the present. He didn't just rush through the gift, either... if he had a bag with several items in it, he would take each one out individually, look it over, tell me what it was, then hand it to me before moving on to the next thing in the bag. Amazed me!!! Handed me bits of paper and trash along the way... most kids would just dig themselves out from under a pile of ripped up wrapping paper and tissue and bags when the 'present opening ceremony' was finally over... not him :) Later on, in the evening, he sought me out, just to tell me, "Mom, I've really had a great party!"

And he was right... I'm pretty sure a great time was had by all!!! Steve and I got the opportunity to visit with some friends we just haven't had the time to sit down and spend time with lately. We had a Jupiter Jump and the swimming pool, of course, so all of the kids always had something to do... which left little chunks of time for the adults to sit around and chat. It was great!!!

We eventually broke out the karaoke when things started to settle down, and didn't shut it down until the last bunch left around 11:00 (the party started at noon!). Nat crashed on the couch around 10:00... bless her heart, she just couldn't do it for one more second... she tried... oh, how she tried... but she just couldn't.

If you had asked me yesterday, at say, oh... 11:00 a.m., how I thought the party would go... I honestly wouldn't have been able to speculate. As I mentioned, this is the first time in a while, that my family have been in the company of my ex-in-laws. Lets just say there has been a bit of tension, for various reasons, and it'd have been anyone's guess how everyone would have behaved. I honestly had no worries about my family... we've talked, we're close, and to put it bluntly, they know how to behave themselves. But, the ex and his family... well, there is some pretty strong resentment held by some... resentment of lots of things and for lots of reasons... mostly, only known by them. I guess it's never easy, is it?

To sum it up... all went well... for Mic. And that's exactly the way it should be. It was, after all, all about him.

bless his heart

I've talked a bit about my son, Mic. As I've said before, he has the gentlest spirit, the kindest heart and is just an all around 'good kid'. Bragging: he was reading when he was only four years old... and I mean *reading*... at four... not 'almost five'... he was only four. He has a special kind of wit about him... a wit uncommon to most kindergartners I have known. He has this way of just coming up with stuff that leaves us scratching our heads and saying, "He did *not* just say that!". To put it simply, he's just enjoyable.

Mic is a boy. My only boy. And he has the tendency to be a boy... ornery and mischievous. Sometimes, this gets him into trouble, both at home and at school. Home is easy... he does something he shouldn't, as all kids are bound to, we deal with it, try to teach a lesson or two, and move on. School is a little different, however. We have no control over the consequences he must face when he gets in trouble at school. Mic is having a hard time understanding that.

He got in trouble today, at the end of the day. So, this behavior will have to be addressed tomorrow. I should say here, that he has a wonderful teacher... she's, as she says, 'got his number'... and we totally support the way she handles our son. Communication is great with the school, from the principal to the aide in the classroom. Absolutely no complaints. So, he will have to pay a visit to the Principal's office tomorrow.

Uh-oh. He's not taking that too well. I talked with him about consequences and actions and choices. We always try to give our kids choices. We try to guide them to make the right choices, at the same time, realizing that they will mess up... that's their job... and it's our job to teach them. So, I talked with him about making choices that aren't so wise and having to take the consequence, that the consequence for today's incident will be decided by his principal. At this point, Mic seems to think that I have some sort of say in the matter, begging me to give him 'one more chance'.

Here's where it gets tough... I'm a self-proclaimed "softy" when it comes to my son. I admit it... and I'm not ashamed. With tears streaming down his little terrified face, he tells me, in between sobs, that he "can't be a strong boy tomorrow. I don't want to take my 'sequence' " (by the way... this was just off the 'cute factor' scale - he was trying to sound so grown-up, saying 'consequence'). Oh, no... heart... breaking... can't... take... it... somebody... make... him... stop!

So, I stress to him that this is happening because of the bad choice he made today, that he actually doesn't have a choice tomorrow. He must go to the principal and face the music. He is absolutely crumbling. Then... he did it... curls up into the fetal position... still crying... and he says, "I'm so stupid!" "No, Mic, *you* are not stupid... what you did wasn't very smart, though" He should have come with a warning label... *WILL MAKE YOUR HEART MELT WHEN SAD* He's that good, I tell ya!

So, he fell asleep sobbing (more heart-breaking)... after telling me that he just doesn't want to go to school at all tomorrow.

His birthday party is Saturday. I tried to tell him to just get through tomorrow, take whatever he must... be strong... then, when tomorrow is over, he has Saturday to look forward to. He didn't buy it.

So, if ya think about it... say a prayer, send a vibe, chant a mantra... whatever your flavor, if this post pops into your head at anytime during the day Friday. Cross your fingers that he (and I, for that matter!) gets through it unscathed.

Good Morning

I love my mornings. I sit, right now, on my patio, with my hot cup of coffee, listening to the wind chimes just enjoying this brief period to myself.

I purposely get up a little bit early just so I'll have this bit of time to myself. Before I have to get the rugrats up to start their day. Two of my three little darlings have already appeared, but I managed to give them each a cat and send them back to bed so I can get my last half hour of peace.

In a few minutes, it'll all be over. The hustle and bustle of the morning will begin. Yelling at someone, "Where's my blue shirt???"... "Mom, I forgot to tell you that my teacher needs 30 cupcakes baked and ready to go by 9:00" (ok, that's was an exaggeration... that actual scenario has never happened, but all you Mommies -and Daddies- know exactly what I mean). The scurrying around to get hair just perfect and teeth brushed and clothes neatly on.

So, off I go, to finish putting myself together before I begin an even better task of being the Mom.

Have a great day!

Happy Birthday, Son!

Today is Mic's birthday. Today, he turns six years old. I watch everyday, in amazement, this little boy become a man. I always tell people that he has the kindest spirit... and that makes me proud. He has his true *boy* moments, which make him all the more interesting, but through it all, he remains gentle, and true to himself.

Six years ago today, my little man made his appearance. And ever since then, the world has been a better place :)

Happy Birthday, Son!





WE LOVE YOU!!!!

Pool's open!!!

This past weekend, Steve got the pool ready. The kids have been so excited... they were at their Dad's this weekend, but called to get periodic updates as to the status of the pool. They just couldn't wait to get home from school so they could hop in. Now, the water temperature is only about 73 degrees... no way I'm gettin' in there... but it doesn't phase them, as I've mentioned before.

Mic's birthday is tomorrow and we are having his party this Saturday. Swimming is one of the activities on the menu, along with a Jupiter Jump (or Bouncy Castle for you Brit readers). Pool will be good and broken in by then, as it's almost impossible to keep the kids, especially Mac, out of it once it's up and running for the season.

I broke out the camera just a bit too late to catch Mic... he's like his Mother... temperature has to be darn near pushing 80 before it's even bearable. So, as I snapped these shots, he was inside, cozy and dressed, but still shivering!!

My little fish... (isn't she just gorgeous???)






The Diva and I went shopping this afternoon to get her a new swimsuit. She really thinks she's *it* because she has a suit that shows her back!!! When I was snapping these pictures she was extremely angry at something (sometimes I just give up trying to figure out what, exactly, has made her mad)... but she stopped, mid-tears, to model the new suit...





See, I told ya... *Diva*

Happy Swimming!!!!

sickening sweet

So, I've posted before about my adoring hubby. Probably enough to give anyone a cavity. I know, sick, isn't it. Don't get me wrong, he's not perfect... well, to anyone else but me I suppose. To give you but a small example of his indiscretions... as I we sit here, out on the patio in the perfect furniture my perfect husband made with his perfect hands, he's next to me, laptop in tow passing gas. Yep, folks, he *is* normal. Now, I'll probably pay for that... putting it out there in 'cyber-world' that he farts. Probably pay bigtime. That's ok... I'll just remind him of the amazing foot rub he got while we were catching up on "Grey's Anatomy" an hour ago. (for those who know me, yes, I said *foot* rub... that's how much I love him. for those who don't know me... I should mention that I DON'T DO FEET. ew.)

Over Spring Break, the kids and I planted sunflower seeds. We each got our own little seedling tray with 8 tiny pots. Mic and Nat got greedy, putting two seeds in each of their pots, while Mac and I just put one seed per square. We labeled the trays, each of the kids, then Steve and I shared ours. A few weeks later, voila! We had plants. We all thought it was pretty cool, even though Mic and Nat's trays were heaving compared to the rest of ours'.

Anyway, we picked the best four plants, one from each tray. Planted all four into a very large terracotta patio planter to sit and wait for us to get off our lazy bums and prepare a place in the yard for them to be permanently transplanted. The plants themselves are looking a bit peckish these days... they've definitely kept growing, almost two feet tall, each of them. But they look a tad 'ill'... Steve suspects they may be diseased or bug infested, but we're going to go ahead and give it a shot.

So, we're surveying the yard, shovel in hand (him) today, wondering where to plant the four (six if you count the two-per-pot cheaters). Steve finds a spot and starts digging. He had to put quite a bit of effort and work into getting the (approximately) four foot by two foot patch of earth dug up. A LOT of work. I tried, but I had my rubber shoes on and they just weren't up for the job (far be it for me to go inside and actually change them!). So, he continues until the ground is just right to accept the sunflower plants that will probably die, anyway.

I'm watching him do this, all the while thinking... he's going to all this hard work and trouble just for the kids (and me). He loves seeing their little eyes light up with amazement at nature's work, and he's making a canvas for which they will observe this.

So, the next time (although, there hasn't really been a first, has there?) I blog to bitch about him, as I'm sure I will (after all, isn't that what all good wives who blog do?)... I must remind myself to look back on this post and remember what he's really about :)

White Shirt WARNING

Ok... I should probably put a disclaimer here and describe my 4-year-old to you, my N, a.k.a. "The Diva". I'll leave that for you to discern from the flavor of previous and yet-to-come posts. You're probably saying something along the lines of "Yeah, well, she hasn't seen MY 4-year-old"... I know, I know... most of us have 'em... heck, we've had four before her... and yes, preschoolers can be monsters. But, you don't know The Diva!!!

We had pizza for dinner the other night. After a serious pre-soak and a good washing, this is what her shirt looks like (can you tell which hand she eats with?)...



(disclaimer #2: after previewing this post... this picture doesn't do it justice!!!)

Know what she said to me when I asked her why on earth she would do that to her shirt? "Well, Mommy, you should have given me a napkin!" Little stinker! (by the way, the napkin I *did* give her was found under her chair after dinner)

Off to buy Clorox...

the purpose of blogs

So, now that I'm off and running with this blog thing, I've recently been thinking about it's purpose. Or, rather, my purpose for starting it.

Why do people blog? I'd venture to say that a few do it simply because it's the thing to do, at the moment. I'll take that. Some do it because they've seen others do it and enjoy doing it, so they, too, want to see what all the fuss is about. I'll take some of that one, too. Some people blog because their lives are actually that interesting, or they have something to say that is genuinely worth reading. Nah... boring life here, and I've never thought of myself as a very eloquent writer... so, don't put me down for that one.

Which leads me to think that some people really just need to 'get it out'. To have a place where they can put their feelings, thoughts, plots, etc... Especially when something is really icky, or eating away at you... I can completely see that. Putting it down on paper, or, in today's world, that could translate to blogging it... gets it out of your head. I've personally experienced that one, although, I'm not so sure I'd file that one under my reason for blogging.

I'd certainly love a place to put it all, but would I then turn around and not only tell people about it, but actually point them in the direction of said blog? Hell no. If I'm going to put it all out, I'm going to do it completely and totally anonymously... nobody, I mean nobody, is going to know it's me.

A friend of mine said that she thought of starting a blog for just that reason. She's bearing a pretty heavy weight on her shoulders right now, and just needs a place to let it all out. However, there could be a real danger if the wrong people got word of this place... she could very well risk relationships and people who are very close to her. So, what does she do? Well, to answer for her specifically, although, that was really a general question... she didn't do anything. She didn't get a place to put it all out. Rather, she, like others, started a blog, yet continues to write with that 'filter' in place. The 'I know people are reading this so I have to be careful of what I put down in case (enter name here) reads this' filter. C'mon, we all have 'em. Even my husband, who generally comes from the school of "if they don't like what I type, then they don't have to read it", which, I may add, I subscribe to... for everyone but myself. He thinks about what he writes before he publishes it. Probably to a lesser degree than me, but, still, he does it nonetheless.

So, is there a way of truly remaining anonymous? I'm sure it's possible. Haven't really investigated it that much. I'm sure there are thousands who do on a daily basis.

Just not me. Yet.

cheezy mood

Just had a wonderful dinner with my husband. It's our weekend off (kids are at their Dad's). We had the most delicious steak (ty, you know who you are :D ) dinner, accompanied by a bottle of wine. I should mention here that we don't drink much, at all. Especially with the amount and type of medication I'm on for pain management. So, one bottle of wine between the two of us is plenty. And just enough to make us fall in love with the world... hence the 'cheezy mood' :)

We're sitting here on a Friday night, just the two of us. Singing karaoke... yes karaoke. We LOVE singing. I've coined my dear husband the "Karaoke Slut" and he wears that badge with honor (he really does!). Silly us. We have so much fun together. He's currently singing "My Sweet Lord"... I just finished "My Give A Damn's Busted"... patiently waiting my next turn... he has a bad habit of 'hitting the wrong button for the rotation and 'accidentally' skipping me... see... KARAOKE SLUT!!!!! We always have a laugh, though.

I love that about him... we just know how to have fun together. He put the swimming pool up today. It's crystal clear, all chemicals in and ready and waiting. Except the water temperature is a balmy 68. ARGH!!! No way am I getting in there!!! It has to be at least 80 for me, and that is even chilly. I prefer upper 80s, approaching 90. I'm spoiled. And I really need a hot tub!

Just paused to sing, Dixie Chics "Let 'er Rip"... LOVE that song... I just wish I could sing :p See, he has justification for being called the "Karaoke Slut"... me, not so much.

Back to the pool... Mac will no doubt hop in straight after school on Monday. She doesn't care if she has to cut a circle in ice! That girl would swim in the dead of winter if she could. Reminder: must check Mac for fins!

So, cheezy mood... I feel it's only appropriate to pop in a cheezy pic...

I love my kids... we often get cheezy together, and have pics to document...

a PROUD ramble

Two of my kids are in school. Mac is in second grade, Mic in kindergarten. The Diva, aka N, stays home with Steve, keeping him squarely in order. As an aside, I just live for the stories recapping the days' events experienced by Steve and Diva. I'll start posting them, as they are shared by both... sometimes, their renditions differ a bit.

Today, Mic was 'honored' in an assembly as a 'Knight-in-Training'. I won't go into the history of the ceremony, but it's not unlike a 'student-of-the-month' honor. Now, as crunch time approached, we were beginning to get the feeling that neither kid would be knighted this school year. Mac got it last year, and she is the one it's easy to assume will get it. She's a wonderful student, very exceptional academically (not at all biased, here, am I?) and just generally one of those kids you'd expect to excel and receive associated honors. Much to my disappointment, she didn't get it at all this year :( We're sad about that, but... life goes on. Can't have everything, and what an opportunity to teach some (I'm sure) very poignant life lesson... although, right now, we're just going to wallow in our sorrow... I'll teach the life lesson later, I promise!

So, I get an email from Mic's teacher the other day. Let me add here, that we really weren't at all surprised that it didn't look like he'd get knighted. This is, after all, the kid who trips other kids, nose dives into the teacher's desk so as to get to a flying crayon first (a crayon for which I'm *sure* he was responsible for the flight), plays wadded-up-paper football after he's been clearly instructed not to. Just general 'boy' stuff... he's really a great kid. He has the gentlest heart, the kindest spirit... he's just ornery! And, I should mention, adorable!!!!

So, as I was saying, not really expecting that he would get knighted this year, and really not that bothered. Email comes from his teacher, which emails come from her often... usually to report the 'behavior' du jour. I open these very carefully, as I'm sure you can imagine. To my surprise, she tells me that she has chosen Mic to be her knight for the month of May. Shocked doesn't even begin to describe it. She goes on to tell me that she was just waiting for the right Life Skills to come up that fit him to knight him. What are the Life Skills, you ask??? Perseverance and Sense of Humor. BINGO!!!!! Lucky little devil!!!

I'm so proud of him... for lots of things, but today, particularly, for being a Knight-in-Training for the Life Skills of Perseverance and Sense of Humor


(mine's the one in the lime-green and navy striped shirt, next to the 'Knight')


We are so proud of you, buddy!!! Way to go!!!!! I love you!

Sad.

Wow, what a difference a day makes. I did actually post that 'happy' post last night. And I meant every word of it. But, a few hours later, I wasn't so happy, so I took it down. I didn't want one happy thing representing yesterday. Because in a moment, it all came crashing down.

Not to worry... this is a 'funk' I've visited many times before, and unfortunately, I'm sure I'll visit many times to come. And just like every other time I've delved deep into the armpit of this 'situational' depression, I'll eventually come out of it. Sometimes sooner, sometimes later. I'm holding out for sooner, but fully prepared for later.

Some things are just too deeply personal to put out there on the world wide web for all to see. This would be one of those things. I won't go into any details, now or ever. But there's something about this place I seem to insist on visiting every so often that I just don't get.

I consider myself relatively intelligent. I managed to get a college education under my belt. Didn't do too bad academically. I like to think I have common sense.. at times, greater than average... sometimes, not so much. But, on balance, I 'get it'... ditsy, dense, dingy... don't think any of those words have ever been used to describe me, at least not to my knowledge.

All of that being said... can someone, anyone, please tell me, or at least *try* to explain to me, why, just *why*, when I'm equipped with a fully functioning brain, do I get such a twisted perspective on something that my own logic tells me is messed up??? Not only do I have said perspective, but I allow it to permeate every single fiber of my being. I don't give it permission, in fact, I tell it to go to hell. But it doesn't listen. Ever. And it's so predictable... as predictable as N's bedtime routine.

I'll try to explain... something happens (or doesn't happen)... I *know* what it means when it happens or doesn't happen... pretty basic, really... nothing 'hidden' or to be implied. It just is what it is. Scenario one: something happens: instead of just taking it for what it is, possibly, even garnering a bit of enjoyment from it, I insist over and over on picking it to pieces... pulling it apart like the layers of an onion, scribing my inaccurate perspective on every single layer, every single cell. And *then* it becomes what I have made it... it isn't any longer what it was... it's what I've created in my mind. Scenario two: something doesn't happen: instead of just carrying on and staying happy, I start peeling that onion again. Scribing, yet again, this perspective that I've come to coddle onto every single layer. Lather, rinse, repeat. Yes, time and painful time again, I do the *same* thing over and over.

I once heard that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. That is me. Insane. So, why? I have the knowledge, I have the foresight, I have the logic. I *know* what's going to happen... hell, I could write the script now. And the script never changes.

What I need to understand, figure out, *get*... is how, how on earth do you change your perspective? When it becomes so ingrained that you now actually believe it to be truth, yet you *know* it isn't? How? Self-talk doesn't work. As I go through the motions, I say the same things over and over. I don't listen.

And I'm tired. So very tired. I want something new to worry about. I want this weight off of my shoulders. I want to feel free from it. I want to be truly happy. I want to stop giving into the demon that is my perspective. I want to take back control. I want to take back power, to feel powerful... not powerless. I just don't like feeling sad.



Addendum (5/17/07) Thank all of you for your concern. I feel kinda bad, because I'm realizing that this post probably conveyed a much more serious level of 'depression' than I had intended. Please, I don't want any of you to worry about me. I'm fine, really. There's just this *thing* that won't go away, that always makes me feel yucky when it rears it's ugly head. That's all. It doesn't overtake me. Life goes on. I'm quite sure the people I work with don't even notice a difference when it's around. I work very closely with several people, who would definitely know. And, I work in a field where if clinical depression were suspected, trust me, it would *not* go unmentioned. So, again, your concern has been overwhelming... and from the bottom of my heart, Thank You!

Just happy

No real reason for this post, other than to say that I'm happy. Like anyone cares... but this is my blog, damnit, and I can say whatever I want, right??? nee-ner-nee-ner-neeee-neeeer (I promise, I really am over the age of 18 :p)

N came home tonight with her Disney 'cd' player... picture a big pink useless piece of plastic (thanks, Dana. Hi, Anno!) that plays various midi clips from the wonderful world of Disney. She gets out of her Dad's van, brother and sis following... they march straight over to the neighbor's driveway (they are out of town, so the fifth wheel and dually that are normally taking up half of the drive are gone... translation... a big ole' concrete stage!) Picture it... "Under The Sea" in perfect trashy, cheap music style... shoes kicked off in random order placed about the performing area... three beautiful children with smiles as wide as the Arkansas, bouncing around, twisting and gyrating like you've never seen. It just made me feel so damn happy. I adore seeing my kids happy and happy they were!!!

The cd player is nicely placed on top of her clothes that are laid out to wear tomorrow (I'm anal about that, in case I over sleep by *an hour and a half* ... ahem... yesterday!), when, I'm sure, Steve will be so sick of hearing that song by the time I get home... he'll surely be on the verge of smashing it with some electric thing with teeth that he has in his new workshop. STEVE... step away from the power tool!!!! Look at that face... look at how incredibly cute she is... you CAN'T possibly take that away from her... you just CAN'T! I promise, I'll be home soon to save you!!!

Ha. So, yes... I'm happy. So very happy. I won't revisit "My *HAPPY* post!", I promise. Think I'll go to sleep, with a smile on my face :)

pssssst... Hey, Mac...

I know you're going through kind of a rough time right now. I just want you to know how much I love you. I'm glad my idea worked for you tonight. Mom has some good ideas every once in a while, ya know ;)

You are such a shining star. I love every single second we have together, I hate every single second we are apart. I've given you roots... now it's time to start giving you wings.

Soar, my dear daughter. You can be anything you dare to. Believe, dream, love. I'll always be right here for you.

I love you,
Mom

David v Goliath

I've been recommended a blog by a friend, who is known for interesting and reliable recommendations... Apparently the 'little guy (gal)' is doing her best to fight big corporation. I feel her pain, as I often find myself feeling very tiny and helpless when the Goliaths of this world just feel like they can stomp on us without repercussion. I've not read much of her blog, yet, but, as I've said, it comes highly recommended and I'd just like to do my part to help a fellow David out...

Go check out this post and if you feel like lending a hand, go ahead... I did :)

Mother's Day

Today, as most everyone knows, is Mother's Day here in the US. I specify 'in the US' because, I believe that other places celebrate on another day (Steve - must look that up!!! *Call your Mother!!!*)

We spent the day with family, had lunch (ate way too much, as usual), chatting, watching the kids play and just generally 'being' with each other.

I lucked out and Mother's Day happened to fall on a weekend that the kids are home with us. (probably wouldn't be a problem to see them, had it fallen otherwise, but I don't like to disrupt their time with their Dad, or their schedules, just to meet my needs)

Thursday night, Mic was struck with an "A-ha" moment (as Mic often is) when he realized that they hadn't done any shopping for me, nor had any discussion about shopping with Steve. I let Steve know they were concerned, and he assured me that he would take them shopping on Saturday (yesterday). Mic and N had asked what I wanted for Mother's Day. I told them I would love chocolate and some earrings, one carat diamonds (hey, a girl can dream, can't she?). I also stressed that just having them with me is present enough, but they insisted that they get me something. My wish list was relayed to Steve the next day like this... N to Steve: "Mommy wants chocolate, some earrings and a carrot"

I must interject here that two of my five children weren't able to be with me today. T and J are in England and popping over for lunch just isn't very feasible. They chatted with their Dad on the phone this morning, getting play by play of my fixing the girls hair. As J was listening to the 'goings-on' on speaker phone (as he often does) he said, with a sigh and a smile in his voice, "I want to come to your house, again!" We do too, J... we do, too. So, J goes on to say that he can now play part of Guns 'n Roses "Sweet Child 'O Mine" on his guitar... which he proceeded to do, I must say, amazingly!!!

So, I wake up this morning to three *beautiful* children smiling above me, one dashingly handsome and caring husband standing in the doorway, all presenting me with various adoring cards, a small bowl of M&Ms (the chocolate) and one medium carrot. (I promise, ya can't make this stuff up!)

Oh, and though I know it really wasn't, my step-son played a song on his guitar for me :)

Thanks, guys, for making this the best Mother's Day yet!!!

falling out of bed

one hour after 'lights out' for Mac...

she appears, a bit disheveled...

Mac: (with tears streaming down her face) Mom, I fell out of bed (picture big pouty face)

me: [quiet giggle, accompanied by Steve] Oh, honey... I'm sorry

Mac: Mom, I'm serious! I really fell out of my bed!!

me: Honey, I believe you. I'm sorry. [wipes tears off of Mac's cheeks]

me: Mac, those are fake tears!!!

Mac: NO, they are NOT!!!!

me: Mac, I know they are fake!!!!

Mac: Mom, I *really* fell out of my bed and I'm *really* crying!!!!

me: Mac, I believe you that you fell out of your bed and I'm truly sorry, but I *know* that your tears are fake.

Mac: NO, Mom, THEY ARE NOT FAKE!!!!

me: Mac, they are fake.

Mac: [growing increasingly very angry] MOM... THEY ARE *NOT* FAKE TEARS!!!!!!!

me: Mac, if they aren't fake, then why is it completely dry directly under your eye and the tears don't start until halfway down your cheek???

Mac: [trying to hide her giggle] Mom, I did NOT put those tears on there, they are REAL!!!!!

me: No, they aren't.

Mac: YES, they are!!!!

me: No they are not.

Mac: YES THEY ARE!!!! [an even cuter 'trying to hide' giggle]

me: no they aren't

Mac: [bursts out in laughter]

me: [laughing out loud right along with her]

Mac: [BURSTS OUT IN TEARS 'CUZ SHE'S BUSTED] /runs away to her room crying

I went into her room to comfort her (because I'm not *cruel*). She keeps insisting that she did, in fact, fall out of her bed. She really did. Because she has so much crap piled on her bed that she has to sleep halfway hanging off of the side. I rearrange said bed, tossing most of the junk on the floor (she'll have to clean *that* up tomorrow), rearrange her pillows and tuck her in nicely. I gave her sufficient cuddles and kisses... she's forgiven me.

But the tears were fake. And she knows it.

Church

Before anyone aware of my present situation panics... don't!!! No, he didn't convert me. I must preface this entire post with saying that I still very much believe in God. I pray with my children every single night before bed. I believe in Heaven and Hell. But, mostly, I believe I'm spiritual.

I was raised 'in the church'. Attended fairly religiously (pun intended) from the time I can remember until just before I left for college. And for that, Mom and Dad, I thank you. I wouldn't change one single thing about my upbringing. I appreciate my Christian beginnings, the bible studies, the youth groups, the summer camps, the fellowship.

I've circumspectly traveled down the path of my spiritual growth. At one time... and this'll have them rolling over in their graves... in my very late teens, very early twenties, I actually considered myself agnostic (wow! even before I'd ever heard of the Limey!!!) I wasn't so sure about all the things I had been taught about God. I couldn't get concrete evidence... nobody could *prove* that such a thing existed. So, naturally, I questioned. And I grew. I grew up emotionally, mentally and spiritually.

I finally came to the conclusion that, yes, I do believe in God. And this remains a conclusion that I hold steadfast to this very day. But something makes me different and I'm not sure I understand why?

To sum up what I 'believe' is, actually, pretty simple. I believe that we should love our neighbor as ourselves. I believe that we should strive to do good and despise evil. I believe in the good in people, *all* people. But most of all, I believe that I have absolutely no right to pass judgement over anyone, or anything for that matter, ever.

See, I believe that my life is for me to live. Just as your life is for you to live, just as your neighbor's life is for him to live. How dare I pass judgement on someone, *anyone*, until I walk the proverbial mile? And this, I'm afraid, is where I split from the traditional values I 'should' hold near and dear.

I believe that if two people love each other, then they should be together. Simple. Of course, some will toss several arguments my way tossing out ridiculous things like 'child molesters' who profess 'love' or some other equally disturbing analogy. What I'm talking about are two consenting adults (teenagers could apply here in some cases, but we'll keep it simple). I could give a toss if they are two women, two men, one black, one purple... what flippin' difference does it make??? Why in the world would I not wish for others to feel the same amorous feelings that I feel towards my husband? It's wonderful being in love... and why should two people who share that feeling ever be told that they can't or that they are wrong??? I simply don't get it.

This leads to the judgement thing... who in the hell am I to pass judgement over anyone? Why in the world would I ever dream of telling someone that they are wrong, simply because they don't make the same choices I do??? Goodness, I've gotten it wrong so many times... I would *hope* that people don't make some of the same decisions I do!!!

I heard a sermon once... loosely paraphrased, it went something like this... If a family is not made up of a Christian man and a Christian woman, with God in the center, coming first and foremost always and forever, with various children a product of said marriage, again, putting God first and foremost always and forever, then the family is not only not a 'proper' family, but it is doomed to failure. Now, this was a sermon heard fairly recently in a church that I am fairly close to (not necessarily in distance). So, that being said... my family is doomed. Again, parted ways.

Why can't we just live our lives as good people? Mind our own business and just be nice? If someone is nice to me, does it really matter who they share a bed with? I just don't understand how anyone can answer 'yes'. I really don't.

Saying all of this, I realize that many would not consider me a Christian at all. But I do. And my God is a God who actually *does* love *everyone*. My God wouldn't want, for one second, me to hate someone simply because of the color of their skin. Unfortunately, I know, as fact, that hating someone for something so superficial is, in all actuality, not that uncommon. Where does The Bible say that it's ok to do that? I must've missed that passage.

My 'Handyman'

Steve and I will be married two years this July 1st. We had an 'interesting' start, to say the least. But, things have settled down, and I must say, I'm probably the happiest I've been in a very long time. I won't get all sappy or anything, but suffice it to say that, this time, it ends with a coffin.

We really enjoy the simple things with each other. One of our favorite pastimes, is just sitting around and chatting. We've gone complete weekends without the kids with never leaving the house and never turning on the tv. Those have turned out to be some of the best weekends we've had.

We enjoy DIY. Our home is a wonderful palette to exercise our DIY ambitions. What I'm learning, to my pleasant surprise, is that Steve will actually get busy and *do* the things we talk about. Picture it... you're sitting there, with your significant other, or roommate, or whomever the person is that you cohabitate with, talking about and envisioning all the things you'd like to do to improve your dwelling. Now, I don't know about you, but my past experiences have been that nothing much past the 'talk' stage actually gets done. Not the case now. Don't get me wrong, we do our fair share of dreaming... mark my word, this house will *never* get an addition and the garage will never become a den. But, the improvements we've talked about that are actually attainable have been done.

It's mostly down to him. I lack the motivation and knowledge to actually get anything done on my own (I help plenty, tho... even Steve would attest to that). I always ask him how he knows so much stuff about 'stuff'.

His latest endeavor has been to improve the outside areas of our home, as summer is approaching and we will soon be spending much more time outdoors. I won't run down the list of projects completed (suffice it to say it's decent) or projects in the works (suffice it to say it's decent, as well) or projects we'll get to when we have the money (suffice it to say that this one is probably the longest!). He's good. Damn (sorry, Mom) good. Hopefully, he can turn it into a business, but until then, I'm definitely enjoying his 'practice' pieces...

My *HAPPY* post!

I love my life. I love my job. I love that I live only 45 minutes away from my parents and sisters and nieces and nephew and Granny. I love that we are going to start looking for a new house soon. I love that I have a reliable vehicle to get me to and from places. I love that my children go to a good school. I love that their teachers are good teachers who care about them. I love that all breakfasts and lunches at my kids' school are free. I love that I have direct deposit. I love my children, all five of them, more and more each and every day. I love that school is almost out for the summer. I love that all of my paperwork is caught up. I love the smell of babies' heads. I love my children's feet. I love that I have medical insurance. I love my husband. I love that Mic learned to ride his bike without training wheels when he was only four. I love that I have old pictures from high school to look back on. I love my yellow summer shoes. I love my bed. I love when Mac tells me she likes to hang out with me. I love singing with my husband. I love Saturday mornings. I love it when N rubs my neck for me. I love my cats. I love the furniture my husband is building. I love my life.

I love happy posts :)

An apology to my Mother

Steve and I went to visit my parents this evening. They live about 45 minutes away, and we thought it would be nice to pop over to visit and have dinner together. In the course of conversation, I realize that my Mom has been reading my blog. I forget that Steve has put a link to my blog in his journal, which we are aware that Mom reads on a regular basis. Mom and I were chatting about the muddy incident which led to the 'Shower Time...' post last night. I was telling her that I let my oldest daughter, who is eight, read that post. I talked with her before she read it, about the nicknames mentioned. She was fine... not really a big deal to her at all. So, I'm telling Mom this story and she says, "Well, leave the cuss words [sic] out, then" Oops! Busted!!!

I came home and hopped onto my blog to survey the damage I'd done. Looking through, yes, I have tossed out my share of obscenities, but, my excuse is that close to half of my posts are 'vents' or simply put, me bitching (sorry, Mom) about something. (as an aside... I started thinking that I should really start posting more positive things, rather than complaining all of the time. As I've said... I really *am* a happy person!!) Cussing is usually just a given in 'vents'. I know, I know... the point can be made just as well without the curse words, but, part of the purpose (for me) of blogs is just to be able to 'get it all out' freely and openly.

So...

Dear Mom,
I am sorry that you have been exposed to my potty mouth. I really don't talk like that in my daily dealings with people. I *always* watch what I say around your grandchildren. I strive to raise them to be proper, decent, upstanding citizens. Because we realize that they will be exposed to curse words in other parts of their lives, we try to teach them that swearing is not ok for children to do.

I promise, I will try to keep in mind that you *do* like to stop by my little corner of the 'net from time to time and I promise, that if I do nothing else, I will never use the "f" word in my posts ;) And, you're right, I absolutely can get my point across without the 'dirty' words. I will try to do better, but I'm quite certain that one will slip a time or two ;) And when it does, I also vow to immediately take myself to the bathroom and promptly wash my mouth out (or should it be my fingers off?) with soap :D (Steve will be my witness)

I like that you read my blog. You probably see a side of me that you either never thought was there, or *knew* was there, but you just can't believe I put it out there for all the world to see!!!

I love you, Mom. Give Dad a hug from me :)
x0x0x0x0

Shower time...

If you clicked on this post hoping to see anything remotely sultry or sexy or something intriguing involving nakedness and water, I'm sorry to have to inform you that you will be terribly disappointed (as *if* I'd post anything like that anyway :p)

Tonight, I'm standing on a step ladder looking for something in the top of Mic and N's closet (what it was escapes me... certainly lost it's importance immediately after the following event). The kids were out front, playing in the cul-de-sac with some of the neighbor kids. Bikes out, jump ropes jumping, SpongeBob somewhere in the middle of all of it was sticking out his tongue. All was well, or so we thought...

I hear Mic crying, which I should point out, isn't unusual for Mic. Very early in their lives, I so eleoquently nick-named them 'Bitchy, Whiney and Messy' in decending order (which, actually makes Mic 'Whiney' any way you look at it... poor middle-child!). The nics have stuck, not because they were particularly cute or anything, but simply because they continue to live up to them! Now, mind you, we don't actually *call* the kids by these names, nor do we use them around anyone else but each other and very close adult friends. I couldn't have called it any better, had I tried.

I digress... Mic's crying. I didn't rush to him or anything because a) it's Mic (see above) and b) my ever so attentive husband is in the garage, which is where I hear the cries coming from. Now, had I thought it through, I may have paid more attention to the whine, as while Steve was in the garage, the garage has recently become his workshop and while in said workshop, Steve has, at times, been known to get so wrapped up in what he's doing that it may take a time or three of calling his name (read SHOUTING) to get his attention. (I'll post more on this later, because we actually don't mind him ignoring us... you should see the work he produces!!)

So, I'm thinking Mic skinned his knee again, or N hit him, or Mac looked at him wrong... Steve'll deal with it. Then I hear, again from the garage, "JOOODDDIIIEEEEE!!!!!" This time, it's Steve. "What?!", I shout from the closet. "YOU NEED TO COME HERE!!!!" Great... so I climb down from the step-ladder to go tend to the crying, all the while grumbling to myself, "Why can't he just take care of it? What can be so earth-shattering that I'm needed at this instant?" At which point, my mind goes to, "Crap, if it's something so major that he actually *does* need me, what happened?" Fully expecting to see something tantamount to a compound fracture or a partially severed limb... I walk out to find this...







They found the mud 'pit' left from where the neighbor's camper was parked. I wish I'd had a video of them when I asked who's hair-brained idea *this* was... they all pointed at each other. I suppose it could have been worse!

So, as the title says... it's shower time!!!

Man, I love my kids :)

Nothing at all...

... useless ramblings... hey! that's what I should re-name my blog. Wonder if I can change it? Probably not, now that I've come up with something *way* more creative than 'Jodie's Blog' (that took a lot of thinkin', ya know???)

My neck hurts. Really bad lately. Still waiting to hear from the insurance company if my surgery is going to be approved or not. Hurry up and wait. Seems like the story of my life, sometimes. (I can't remember if I mentioned the upcoming surgery in my 'Pain Management' post or not... if I didn't, I'm quite sure I'll ramble about it in the near future).

N comes up with little cute tidbits every day. Today, she's standing in the hallway (linoleum) making her shoes squeak by rubbing them on the floor. She said, "Look, Mommy, my shoes scream!"

Ok... I obviously have absolutely nothing to post about, so I'm going to go and see if I can change my blog title...