Saturday, January 31, 2009

It is just cookies!!

Since my husband and I first got together, he has made fun of the Girl Scouts out selling their cookies every single year. "Ankle biters" he calls them. In truth, they are pretty zealous in their efforts to sell you a box of cookies. Then again, it seems like some people go crazy over the cookies? Why all the hype? It is just a box of cookies!!

Anyway, this year, our own child is now one of smock and vested throngs out selling cookies in their uniforms. She will not be selling at store fronts, due to age restrictions, thank goodness, but none the less, she is selling.

Now that we are in the thick of things, I am beginning to understand why the girls get to crazy about selling. I have often heard Mary Kay representatives as belonging to the "pink Bubble" where their world revolves around MK. Well, I suppose in this case, these girls are in the cookie bubble. There are pep rallies, cheers, songs, parties, you name it, they do it to get hyped up to sell. I find it a little disturbing, honestly.

The thing that I find the most disturbing, is that they are given prizes for selling. Now, don't get me wrong, I believe in teaching children that there is a reward for hard work, but we are talking about selling cookies here, not mowing the lawn. The prizes are really crazy, too. This year, if you sell 2009 boxes of cookies, you get a helicopter ride. Yes. A real one. I believe that this is a lunch with the Girl Scout CEO, and a ride in a helo at the Operation Thin Mint kick off. That would actually be pretty cool. In fact, I think that last year they used a military helicopter for part of it, which would be super cool since her Daddy flies in helicopters for the military. Of course, it would be a little odd to watch her in a helo like his, with him being half way around the world, but I think I am How realistic is that for most girls? How do you sell that many boxes of cookies? If I had Donald Trump on my speed dial, or anyone who could afford just under 8k in cookies, I would be all over this, but alas, I don't.

So, we are going to be very realistic about all of this. We are going to set a reasonable goal for our first year selling, and I am going to show her how that hard work and dedication can also be paid off by knowing that you have done the best you can, and being proud of yourself, even without a helicopter ride.

Unless, any of you happen to have the Donald's number, and you wouldn't mind passing it on.

And, of course, if anyone wants to buy some cookies, please let me know. For just 95 more boxes, she can get a t-shirt. Then, when her dad comes home, I'll put her in the t-shirt, take her to his work, take a pic of her in the t-shirt in his helicopter, and call it a day. Hey, when you have the hook up, you have the hook up.

They Just Keep Coming

One day, I am going to show excerpts from this blog to whom ever my oldest daughter chooses to be with. After all, not only are her actions hilarious, but I think this person may need fair warning as well.

Today she came down stairs in her t-shirt and underwear, what she slept in. After a while she got off the couch, and started roaming the house. She roamed into the back room where I was doing laundry.

"Here. Put these on." I threw her a pair of capri length yoga pants just to run around the house in.

"Mom, these aren't my size."

"Yes they are, they are just short pants."

"But they are baby pants." She was referring to the tight knit as they were stretch.

"No. They are yoga pants. That is the style. Just put them on."

She pull on the pants, checks the out for a minute, then walks out. I kept doing the laundry. A few minutes later, I hear a strange "Ommmm...." sound.

I looked n the living room, and see her sitting in the floor.

"What are you doing?" I ask in her general direction. I got no answer only more "Ommmmmm... Ommmmmm".

I look a little closer, and she is sitting cross legged in the living room floor, hands posed just right with her fingers in a circle, chanting "Ommmmm" repeatedly.

"Lilly, what are you doing??" This time there was a bit more force behind my query.

"My yoga. You said these are yoga pants. So, I am doing my yoga."

Ahhh. I see. I'll just keep doing the laundry. Let me know if that works for you, though, and I might just have to join you.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Please, don't make me potty train!

Please allow me to clarify before I begin this post. I am potty trained. Very well. In fact, I would dare say that I am potty trained the best of anyone in my house, including my husband. Many of you understand that.

In my house, there is only one person left who isn't potty trained, my nearly 2 year old. I know she isn't 2 just yet, we still have a couple of months, but she is realisticly showing tons of signs that she is ready. They are so obvious, they aren't even signs, so much as a smack upside the head telling me that I need to potty train her.

The problem is that I don't want to. I know. Bad mom.

I would, of course, love to no longer buy diapers and wipes. What a financial boon that would be. I would also love for her to be a a little more independant that way, and I know she really wants to as well.

The problem, though, is that I don't want to be chained to a potty for months and months. If you have ever potty trianed a child, girls in particulr, you know jsut how much the idea of being chained to a potty is true. The first few weeks it seems nearly literal, what with you being forced to put them on the potty every little bit, to make sure they don't need to go, and all that. Even, after they get into underwear, you always have to be aware of where the potties are, and be able to drop everything and run to them the second your child utters "I need to go". I remember well all the times that I had to literally drop things and run with the big one because she needed to go, and needed to go then. It takes kids a while to learn to hold it. Those muscles have to grow stronger, and that takes time.

Now I have 2 children. I am not ready and willing to be out shopping with both the girls, and have to drop everything, shopping cart included, and run with both girls to the nearest bathroom. Not the mention the fact that I hate public restrooms, anyway.

I suppose I really don't have a much of a choice. Yesterday morning, while changing her diaper right after we got up, I found a wipe in there. Apparently, if I am not going to potty train her, she is going to do it herself. I don't think that would be pretty. I have seen poo smeared all over my walls before, and I would like to avoid that if at all possible.

So, it is back to potty trianing for me.

Thankfully, this time will be a little different than last. This time I have a laptop and a wireless connection. Maybe I will actually be doing my work in "the office" for a while. Ehhh...not my best joke.

Anyway, here's to potty training for the last time. I hope it is quick, painless, and as mess free as humanly possible.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

It Seemed so Innocent.

Children are a trip. By that, I mean that they often take you on an unexpected and wild journey.

Today, my oldest daughter ask me a very innocent seeming question. The conversation that ensued left me feeling like I was rehearsing a warped 5 year old version of "Who's on First?".

We were walking into the park to play, and she looked up at me with those big blue eyes, and ask "Mom, who is your grandfather?"

Ahhh...such an innocent question.

"Which one?"

"The one that died."

"Both of my grandfathers are dead."

"You know, (insert 5 year old attitude here because I am being slow) the one that talked to me."

"Oh. You mean the one you met when you were a little baby?"

"Yes! What is his name?"


"What is his other name?"


"Oh. Well, what was your other grandfather's name?"

"George Washington Carroll."

"Your grandfather was the president?"

"No. He was named after a President, though. Do you want to know why?"


"His father had just come to America from another country, and he was very proud to be an American. So, he named his son after the first President here."

"I thought the first President was Bush."

"No. Bush was the last President."

"Well who is the next President?"

"Barack Obama is the President now."

"Ok, but who is the next President?"

"Obama just became President."

"Oh. So he is the second President?"

"No, Lilly! He is the President now, but he wasn't second. He is the 44th. We have had over 40 Presidents."

"Oh. Wow. 40! That is a lot of Presidents."

"Go play. Now."

Monday, January 26, 2009

Oh my. What have I started?

My husband is currently deployed. We are making it work.

As I was doing laundry the other day, I came across one of his dirty shirts that had ended up in the clean pile. No idea how that happened. Well, actually, if I were to guess, I would say that the little one, in her zeal to "help" me, carried dirty clothes from the laundry room to the clean clothes I was folding on the couch.

Anyway, I smelled it, and it smells like my husband. Ohh. I love that smell, too.

So, I call the little one over, and tell her to smell the shirt. First of all, she doesn't know how to intake air and make the loud sniffing sound. So, she smells, then blows air our of her nose really hard, just to make the noise. Cute.

"Who does this smell like?"

"Daddy-go!!" As an aside, yes, she does actually call my husband Daddy-go. I think it is because anytime we were out shopping, my husband would wonder off, and I would have to ask over and over again, "Where did your Daddy go?". It just stuck that way.

So, she is very excited to smell Daddy.

I call the big one in, and have her smell. At first, she looks at me like I am crazy for telling her to sniff a shirt. Then, she does it, and yells "Daddy!!". They loved it.

Well, Ava took it a little further. She has decided that she needs to sniff everything coming and going. At first, she was sniffing all the clothes, the clean ones, of course, that have no scent besides detergent and fabric softener.

She grabs every one's clothes, names the owner, does the sniff, then blow out, and says "Ahhh".

For example, she grabbed one of Lilly's shirts.
"Lilly shirt." She said.
Sniff. Deep force full air blown out the nose for sound effect.

Again, cute. We go through momma clothes, Ava clothes, anything she could grab. I did, however, draw the line at my clean panties. That just isn't right.

From the clean clothes, she has started to sniff any clothing she could grabbed. She sniff and "ahhh"ed Lilly's dirty pajama top as soon as Lilly took it off yesterday.

Now, she is sniffing just plain old anything. This morning, it was the stairs. Yes. Our stairs. Which, by the way, I can't imagine smell good. I may vacuum them, but I haven't cleaned them since we moved in. Yuck.
Sniff. Deep force full air blown out the nose for sound effect.

No really, she did. What can you do. As long as she isn't sniffing anything too harmful, we will mostly go with the flow, and try, very gently, to direct it's path to things that are better to sniff than others. I imagine this will pass soon. I mean, how long would someone be willing to sniff dirty stairs? That has to be a phase that they grow out of. At least I hope so. In the mean time, we will continue to keep all the school glue put safely away. = )

Sunday, January 25, 2009

The Hardest Line

Sometimes, life is a very difficult balancing act.

You have to find a way to balance the needs of those around you, your needs, your family's needs, and so on, to make things work for your life like they need to and should.

As a young person, it is easy to allow your life to be totally out of balance. You don't care what happens, you just do what you do to have fun, and be young.

As you get older, and hopefully more mature, though, keeping things in balance becomes so important. You find you really can't quite function with out it.

Keeping that balance, making your life what you want it to be, sometimes requires very difficult decisions.

Tonight, I made a very difficult decision. I had to say no to a friend whom I love dearly. As a friend, she wears the title of best for a reason. However, as much as I love her, and I do, I can not in good conscious say yes to something she ask. It isn't a little thing, and I don't say no lightly. In fact, no is a very painful word for me right now. However, I have to look at all the things in my life, and see where my decision falls. I took some time, a lot of time, and looked at how this decision would throw things out of balance for me. If I said yes, it would affect my family in a negative way, and frankly, I can't afford to do that anymore. Saying yes, even though I desperately want to, would cause more harm for us, than it would good for her. The teeter totter would be sitting with her in the air, in the good seat, and my family stuck on the ground, legs all bunched up around them, just waiting to get up, at least to the middle ground again.

I also have to keep a very precise mental balance. My life is full of so much stress right now, that I border on being off balance at any moment. In fact, the stress of just her question alone has tipped the scale in a way that I can not allow to continue. Some of the things that cause my stress I can not change, no matter how I want to. They are the facts of how we live our lives, and so I must deal with them. I have to take a very careful look at all the things that are weighing on me, and decide what I am able to cut. This is the one thing I can cut. While tonight, I am deeply saddened, and have shed many tears over my decision, I know that in the long run, it was the only thing I could do, to even attempt to regain my mental balance.

I did make an attempt before saying no. I tried to find a way to make it work, but both people on the teeter toter have to work together, and be willing to sit in the mid position, for it to be able to stay like that. She wants to be up in the air right now, and maybe she has earned her turn to be there. I just can't keep my family down, in order to keep her up.

If I were younger, I would have said yes, without thinking. I would have moved mountains to say yes. Come hell or high water, I would have been there. I can't do that anymore, though.

I have to make the hard, grown up decision. I have to look at my girls, and know that I am doing the right things for them. The right thing for all of us, even if it isn't the easy thing.

So, I say no. With a heavy, sick heart, and very sincerely hope that she enjoys her time sitting high as much as she possibly can. I hope she loves every minute of it, and when she is ready to come down again, I hope she can find her own balance.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Technology, Smechnology

You know, sometimes, things that are created to make our lives easier, actually tend to cause more problems or harm than they do good.

Fir Christmas, I got a GPS thingy. I have wanted one for a while. For mother's day, my husband had a GPS application put on my cell phone, which is nice. It is a little slow, but has a ton of features. The real problem is that it costs $10 a month! Way too much. So, I kept telling him that I wanted a hand held GPS instead. For Christmas, my mom actually got me one. Well, she gave me money, and I went to Wal-Mart well before the crack of dawn on Thanksgiving day, and got one.

I like it. It isn't as good as I hoped, because of the cheap model. It does, though, help me get around, and I need that.

The problem is that like many other pieces of technology, we come to rely on fallible machines, instead of using our own brains sometimes.

Today was one of those times.

I had to run by one of the very few military pharmacies to pick up a prescription refill I had called in. I couldn't go until the afternoon. I met a friend for lunch in the area of the pharmacy. I'm not all that familiar with the area. I have only been there a few times, and only been the medical clinic where the pharmacy is one other time.

So, of course, the handy, dandy GPS gets to me our lunch spot.

Lunch was nice. I really enjoyed getting to hang out with a friend and eat a meal, and have some conversation.

At the end of lunch, I told her where I was going, and she pointed in the direction that my clinic should be. I thought it was that way too, but regardless, I had the GPS, and had written down the address before I left.

So, I turn on my device, and at first, it can't even find me. Great. I cut it off until I go out to the car. Once I was close enough to a street, it picks me up, and sends me on my way.

Immediately, I think the directions sound a bit off. I, though, am directionally challenged, and rarely trust my own instincts in this regard.

My GPS tells me to take a left out pf the parking lot. So, I do. Hmm. I know the area that I need is to my right, and behind me. Maybe, I think, there is another street just a block or so down that will take me back to where I need to be. A turn here. A turn there. Suddenly, the GPS is telling me to turn into a military base. Now, I know I am going to a military building, but it isn't on base. It is in a redeveloped area that used to be on base. Not good. I'm not going on base. It must be confused. So, I pass the gate to base, and as soon as I hear "recalculating" I think surely it will find the mistake, and take me to the correct area. Not so much. I end up circling the airport.
The whole time, my little one is in the back seat yelling "Let's Go!", her new favorite phrase.
"I am going, baby. Mama is a little lost, and I need to find my way. Please be quiet for just a few minutes so that I can figure this out."
Wrong thing to say.


"Yes, lost. Well, I can't find what I need to, but we are ok."

"Let's go!"

"We are going!"

Repeat this conversation to the point of insanity, and you start to get what I am feeling. My time is running out. I have been driving around forever. I have to pick up my other daughter from school in a hour and a half, and I don't even know where the stupid pharmacy is yet!

A supposedly brilliant idea hits me. I have another GPS! I grab my phone, turn on the GPS, and pray this one will get it right. I enter the address while trying to drive down the road. I know it isn't a good idea, but I am getting desperate here. I hit enter, and pray. My hands free devise is in my ear. So, I start hearing the male voice say "Calculating route". Yes! I think this is going to work.

Then, almost simultaneously, I hear the male voice in my ear, and the female voice of the unit in my hand speak my next direction together. No! No! It can't be! Maybe they will change when we are supposed to make that left onto base, I think. So, I keep driving down Harbor drive, with 2 different people telling me how to get somewhere I don't want to go. Finally I have to admit that neither of them is going to help me.

I cut both of them off, nearly flinging the hand held into the floor board.
I mean, how hard can it be to find this place?? I've been there once. I have a vague idea of where it is.
I decide to retrace my steps from right after where we left off at lunch. Maybe that should have been a right and I will be able to find it.

I pass the exit from the parking lot, and almost immediately there is a 4 way stop. As I approach, I notice that the area on my right is fenced in. Could it be??

I turn, see the gate guard building, and can't believe it. I show my ID, pull in, and park. Then, I look up. I am sitting there, looking at the restaurant I left, over 40 minutes ago. That's right, the pharmacy was right behind me. Maybe 50 yards. It took me 40 minutes to go 50 yards. That is one seriously scenic route.

On the bright side, I had a great lunch, I now know how easy this place is to get to for all of my future refill pickups, and my friend from lunch got a kick out of my story.
On the down side, I think I'm going to have to start carrying a Thomas Guide (local map book) along with the 2 GPS units every where I go. This way, I can at least make getting somewhere a three way argument between the male voice in my ear, the female voice of the GPS, and me with the Thomas Guide in hand.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

No kids, No Rocket Cart For You

My little one and I went to the grocery store today. I do believe that this is the first time I have taken her to the store alone, with out her sister, or my husband, since she began to walk and talk. Yeah. Its been a while. It had to be done, though.

Anyway, we go, and as luck would have it, there was one, just one, Rocket Cart there at the store. Just about every grocery store has those special shopping carts (or buggies for those reading this back home) that are meant just for kids. They are usually little plastic car looking things with a cart attached to the front. Our grocery store happens to have the coolest ones ever that look like a space shuttle! They have two separate baskets, a small one up high and a larger one down low. Of course, my oldest had no idea what the space shuttle was the first time she saw it, and they became the Rocket Carts.

I nearly run to the cart, and my daughter gets excited as soon as I put her in. She starts driving and pretend hoking that thing like crazy. We go on about our shopping, with her honking an beep beeping up and down the isles. People are laughing at her and her cute little "vroom vroom"s.

We start to turn at the end of the cheese isle, to go toward the bread and deli section, and there is a womyn with her back turned towards us, with a rocket car, sort of blocking the way. Right away, I see there is no child. He must have hopped out, gone with Dad, or something. Right?

Nope. As we pass, I see she has filled the place for the child with all kinds of crap, including her bag.

I actually uttered "I know she didn't..." out loud before I caught myself. I was probably blocking other people in the isle behind me, because I was caught so off guard, I had to stand there and stare for about a minute.

You know, these carts are both good and bad. For actual shopping, they kind of suck. The baskets are both small, and you can't fit much in them. You get far, far less than you would with a regular shopping cart. They are much less maneuverable because of the longer length, the weight, and the general design. They are also usually pretty dirty. I mean, your putting kid after kid in them. The only good thing about them is the sheer entertainment value they posses for your child. Between the shopping cart and a box of raisins, she was occupied the entire time.

So, why would anyone take one that didn't have a child??? I think there should be a law against that. The grocery store police should give you a grocery store ticket if they ever see a person who clearly has no child using one of those carts. In fact, if my husband goes, I send him on ahead of us while I get the girls out to scout one of those crazy things out. There have been days where I nearly cried because the kids were being a pill, we had to go to the store, and we could only get a regular cart. It makes that much of a difference sometimes. See, people with no kids, we NEED them. It isn't just about the rocket, it is about our sanity.

So, to the lady who was browsing the specialty breads today, using a Rocket Cart with no child, you, ma'am, are not a very nice person. For shame. Taking away what could have been a mom's desperately needed piece of sanity today. I hope someone else says something more than I did. May you over priced loaf of artisan bread mold very fast. Harumph.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Far too Political for Me

Not my other posts.


I left school today, realizing that schools, at least some of them, are impossible to navigate as a parent if you don't want to play the game. I know that there are always the "favored ones", mostly the PTO moms, and such. Far beyond those moms, though, I am now beginning to see just how deep the brown nosing goes. If you aren't the right kind of mom, even in a dysfunctional school like the one my daughter goes to, you just can't get anywhere.

It isn't that I want to be well liked, but I would like to be able to actually help out, and make a difference. I want to be part of the solution. I want to make sure that my daughter has every chance to excel possible. Even that, though, is hard if you aren't always on your game, or in the game. Waist deep in it, too.

I see the moms who have sucked up so hard, I'm surprised they still have room to breath. I see the moms who have become the favored ones, and they are able to really be heard. The problem is that what they have to say isn't always beneficial.

I guess, when you come into a school and really want to be involved as a parent, you have two options.
1. Play Politics. Be a suck up. Do what you can to play all the games, and keep a favored status so that you are able to be involved in everything, even if you don't strive to make things better.

2. Go at it on your own. Choose to do what is right, and what stands out to you as needing to be done. Volunteer your time, and do what you can to help out, but don't expect to be allowed to be a part of many things, or even have your voice really heard. In fact, you should be prepared to make your voice as loud as necessary sometimes, in order to be heard.

The only other option that I see is just to go with the flow, and not be involved. I wish it wasn't this way. I wish that parents could just be a part of their children's lives with out all of this alpha mom nonsense. Unfortunately, it seems that when around children, parents sometimes act like them.

More than anything, I really hope that when we change schools next year, the new school is different. I want so badly to help out and be a part of things, like my mother was for me. This school makes that so hard, though. I think that before the school year starts, I need to realize, and believe, that this school has colored my vision of the school system in general, but surely not all schools are like this. There must be some schools out there that work together for the common good of the kids, and not for recognition of the parents.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Congress say what??

Sometimes, I have to wonder if the entirety of Congress collectively have their heads up their asses.

I know that was vulgar and rude, but so is the thought that thanks to their ineptitude, children may well be banned from libraries.

"Sorry, Little Johnny, no story time for you ever again, or the librarian will go to jail".

I mean, what were they thinking??? The new laws that were designed to protect our children, are seriously about to turn their, and our, worlds upside down. Have you read some of the articles about what may happen because of this new massive and all inclusive monster of a piece of legislation?
Let's see. First, we have the end of the resale industry.
Then, we have tons of small businesses who will have to close their doors. Say goodbye to your favorite mommy owned small businesses that we have come to depend on for those perfect niche items.
After that, we ban children from libraries, because you know, even though children have been in libraries for generations and generations, apparently, every parent before us was just dumb enough to let their children go into that godforsaken pit of lead toxicity, including our own. Not us, though, our kids will never again walk those death bringing halls. **Insert massive eye roll here.**

I believe at this point, my child is much more likely to be harmed by falling and knocking over a stack of books, than by anything that Congress has actually touched upon, in a library.

How far are we going to let them go? Do we have to let them actually ban these things before we as a nation rise up and tell them to pull their heads back out? Why is it that we allow so many people who have obviously lost touch with us, the people, to continue to do such ridiculous things?

While I fully realize that this ban will probably never take place, and you must take much of my commentary herein as sarcasm and hyperbole, the fact is that I really do believe that congress is acting not in the best interest of the people any more, or even with the amount of thought and consideration really needed for what they do. They are reactionary. They pander to whatever makes them look good, without consideration of the real ramifications of their actions, time and time again.

Seriously, people, we need to stop, think, and decide where our line in the sand is. It may just about be time to wipe the slate clean, and start again in the next election cycles.

How did this post turn into such a political soap box? I'm not really sure, but I do know this: I have a story time scheduled in two weeks with my moms group. I intend to be there. I also intend to keep on scheduling events at libraries all over the city, because there are few things as important as teaching our children the joys of reading, and I don't intend to let anyone take that away from me, or my children.

Faculty Death at School

The P.E. teacher at Lilly's school passed away this weekend. He was very young. The whole thing was a little odd. He had been sick for months, in and out of the hospital, but they never found out what was wrong with him.

Most of the school already knew before today, but we hadn't heard, having secluded ourselves this weekend. If I had known, I would have talked to my daughter about it before school.

At school, the principal made no mention of it at the assembly, except for a single thought that was "To heal our spirits today" and then what song they would sing together. Instead, they decided to go room to room through the school and talk to the kids that way. I hope that is better.

I really feel for some of those kids. This school is predominately military. A lot of these kids don't get to see much of their father's to begin with, and having a male father figure that has been a constant in their lives for a few years will be very hard. Not to say that death is easy for any one.

I'm not sure what the school is going to do at this point, but I really hope they handle this well. Their track record on inconsequential stuff isn't great. But I must have hope that they can take care of something like this appropriately at least.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Who you gonna call?

My oldest got both a Webkinz charm necklace and bracelet along with one charm for Christmas in her stocking. They come with codes that you enter online to a Webkinz account.
Lilly wanted to enter her new pieces onto her account. We sat down at the computer to do everything, but when I saw she had both a necklace and a bracelet, I got a little confused with their being only one charm. My husband got these from Ebay, and I really had no idea what he wanted with them, if one was for now, and one for later, etc.

Without even thinking, I looked at Lilly and said, "Huh. Wonder why you got the necklace and the bracelet. I wonder what he was thinking. "

"I don't know, Mom."

"Well, I guess I will just have to call him and ask if there was something special he wanted, or if you are supposed to only use one of them for now." I picked up the phone and started dialing.

Lilly's eyes were huge. Her jaw dropped. "Are you really calling Santa right now??" She ask with astonishment.

I didn't miss a beat. "I might just be." And then I smiled at her. When Chad answered the phone, I ask him only what I needed to. Then said "Thank you, Santa" and hung up. Lilly was flabbergasted.

It was fantastic. Chad has threatened to call Santa many, many times over the years, but I guess it was mom who actually picked up the phone and did it the first time. Ahh....she knows her momma means business all the time.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

I have a what??!!??

Let me tell you, husbands, boyfriends, men of the world in general, what you do not, repeat, NOT say to your wife of many years.
The womyn who has given birth to your children.
The womyn who has waited back home, patiently, faithfully, for many, many months, just her and your child, while you were off in another part of the world.
The womyn who has been by your side through thick and thin.

You do NOT walk up to this womyn, put your arms around her in a hug, then look at her face and say "I think your starting to get a unibrow".

When she immediately rebukes you, you then do not proceed to try to explain yourself, and show her the particular hairs you mean. Furthermore, when her temper flairs beyond belief, you don't laugh. Not if you value your life, you don't.

Someone, anyone, should have told this to my husband. I don't know what on this earth (or from far below it more likely) possessed him to say such a thing, but he did.

I told him he may as well go ahead and tell me I look like I have gained weight. Why stop there? Tell me which clothes I wear make me look the fattest, then proceed to trace the wrinkle lines in my face. I mean, why not tear me down???


"Why would you say such a thing?", I ask him.

"It wasn't mean."

"Now that is just dumb." I don't use that word lightly. In fact, that is probably one of the few, if not the only, times in our years together that I have used that word in direct reference to my husband or his actions. However, I call them like I see them. To think that telling your wife she has a unibrow isn't mean or hurtful, is dumb. It is. You just don't do that. He doesn't tell me how to groom. Why would he start now, there??

In fact, I don't think he even knows what a unibrow really is. What I have, are a couple of hairs that have to be smoothed into place from time to time, especially after I just rolled up out form underneath the dining room table where I was cleaning both the back legs that I can't reach any other way, and the underside of the table lip. Yeah. They might have been a little out of place, but I can't pluck those few long hairs I have, because fact is that with out them, I barely have any eyebrows naturally at all!!!! What you see in pictures is drawn on. My mom is the same way. The older we get, the less we have by way of eyebrow, too. So, unibrow, it was and is not.

Cold shoulder, now that you have. Harumph!!

She was late!!

I'm heart broken. Lilly was late to school for the first time today. Being on time to school everyday is such a big deal to me. I was never on time. I learned that behaviour early on from my mother, and I refused to carry it on to my own children.

She wasn't very late, maybe 60 seconds. We were at her school when the bell rang. She was late about the amount of time it took for her to take her backpack and coat off, and hang them up. I zipped up her back pack, and put her coat where it needed to be, just so she could get in.

It really broke my heart. I know in the grand scheme of things, that 60, or even 120, seconds of being tardy won't matter. It will however, stick out in my mind. I have to fight against the onslaught of feelings like I should just give up on our fight to keep her on time, every time.

I walked the whole what home thinking if this and if that. If she hadn't thrown all the shoes out of the shoe basket, sot hat she had to pick them all back up again before leaving the house. If she had actually gotten dressed, and paid attention to what was going on... If she would just put her shoes on by herself, with out making me stop getting Ava and me ready to go... If I had gotten up a few minutes earlier so that I could push her.. If I hadn't insisted on making coffee before we left, coffee that I didn't even have time to drink.... All those ifs, though, do us no good. As the saying goes, If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we could have Christmas all year long. Well, the time for Christmas is passed, and the time for ifs has also. Instead, we both need to make this a lesson learned. She needs to learn that she really can be late in the mornings, and that she needs to prioritize better, choosing carefully what really needs to be done, and what doesn't, in the mornings. I think lesson also applies to her mother, who is trying with all her might to undue to lessons of her own ever tardy youth. Hopefully, we can work on that lesson together tomorrow, and the day after, and so on. We can get this one, together, and be the better people for it.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

It's a Nerdy Job....

My daughter just ran down stairs. She got an art studio/easel thing for Christmas. It has a big roll of paper in it, that she can tear off when she is done with a picture, and pull out a fresh sheet. Well, the paper is stuck, and she ran down to tell us she needed help getting the paper out.

I said. "Do you have a paper jam?"
"Yes! That's it. It is a paper jam!!"

I thought it was funny.

Telling corny jokes: It's a nerdy job, but someone has to do it.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Feeling Free

Between two kids, being a military wife, having multiple volunteer positions, along with a job that I work from home, I rarely feel free anymore.
However, in recent weeks, I have found something that surprises me, by making me feel incredibly free.


Remember how free you felt when you got your driver's license? How about when you got your first car, and you knew that you could go anywhere you wanted, any time you wanted.
Do you remember how much you loved to drive when you were young. The power rush as you would speed down the highway or interstate? Well, suddenly, that and more has all come back to me.

Somehow, in the day to day grind, our very large truck has become the family car, and that is what I generally drive. Mu husband has taken over my cute little sporty black car to commute in, because it is much better on gas. While he loves it, it isn't something that I like to drive, at all. It is huge, and definitely not the most maneuverable thing you have ever driven. The car seats stay in it now. So, the black car is for single driving only.

I don't get to go many places with out the kids, but in the last couple of weeks, I have been out without them at least 2 times. Sad, I know, but still, the moment that car merges onto the free way, my heart soars. I feel the power kick in, and the car jumps up to 80 miles an hour. I can slide over into the next lane easily, without fear of massive blind spots like in the big car. If there isn't any room for me to merge, it isn't a problem. The turbo has already kicked in, and that car can just fly up on to make it's own space.

I get to crank my music up. I get to sing along to anything I like. I can even repeat the bad words as loudly as I want, if I so choose. I am in control of it all. I have the power and the freedom to go where I want, and when I want again.

I can really see now, how some people get into racing, and cars in general. While I doubt I will ever be much of an gear head, I think I will always have a soft spot in my heart for the little black sporty cars that can make your spirits soar as high as the tachometer, or even higher.