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 :)
May 15, 2007
May 14, 2007
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
May 13, 2007
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 :)
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!!!
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!!!
May 8, 2007
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.
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.
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.
May 5, 2007
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...
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...
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