Just a couple of quick items. First (and most important), my Pirate Boy has turned 8 and will be baptized this Saturday by his grandpa. For reasons most of you are familiar with, this is a really painful situation for me, but I'm trying to keep a joyful perspective for the sake of my darling boy. It may be painful for him, too. He certainly looked pained when he asked, "But why can't Daddy baptize me?" He'd been really looking forward to the experience.
Second, the kids and I will be leaving town the next day for a longish stay with my family. We're very much hoping that our home and at least some of our life will still be here for us when we return. But there's no way to know at this point.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
A Little Announcement
... on behalf of my dear sister Sylvia, who has (you may have noticed) been missing from blogland for the past several months. I haven't heard from her much myself, what with her crazy schedule and my crazy everything, but...
She called tonight to announce the birth of the newest denizen of Neverland: a healthy baby boy delivered (finally!) by c-section, much to the relief and pride of all involved. And there was much rejoicing.
She called tonight to announce the birth of the newest denizen of Neverland: a healthy baby boy delivered (finally!) by c-section, much to the relief and pride of all involved. And there was much rejoicing.
Monday, June 23, 2008
She's So Darn Predictable
Well, Satan did exactly what I said she would, within a few hours of hearing about her boy flunking. Down to saying the school was too hard and rejecting the notion that it was just as possible for her boy to pass as it is for mine. (Well, you know, it's not as hard for second-graders as for seventh-graders! No, um, comparatively, it is. Exactly as hard.)
So she's got a lawyer on the case, and she's outlined her demands, which she (and probably everyone she knows, except us) thinks are completely reasonable. And she's reminded TM that he has no money to fight her on it. I hate that woman. She's completely predictable, like the vulture that came and ate Prometheus' liver every day. And there's just as little that we can do about her.
I asked TM what he thinks we can do. I'm all for putting our house up for sale, as-is, cheap, and getting what cash we can from it before the bank takes it away. The potential lawsuit is just another reason we need to. TM doesn't think so, so we're not. His plan is to get the transcript from our last court battle, which, as some people may remember, turned out so very well.
Then he asked me, "Do you remember what year that was?"
Ummm... yeah. Right down to the date and the hour. It was the turning point of my whole life, and you're asking me? Right.
Just don't ask me to do it again.
So she's got a lawyer on the case, and she's outlined her demands, which she (and probably everyone she knows, except us) thinks are completely reasonable. And she's reminded TM that he has no money to fight her on it. I hate that woman. She's completely predictable, like the vulture that came and ate Prometheus' liver every day. And there's just as little that we can do about her.
I asked TM what he thinks we can do. I'm all for putting our house up for sale, as-is, cheap, and getting what cash we can from it before the bank takes it away. The potential lawsuit is just another reason we need to. TM doesn't think so, so we're not. His plan is to get the transcript from our last court battle, which, as some people may remember, turned out so very well.
Then he asked me, "Do you remember what year that was?"
Ummm... yeah. Right down to the date and the hour. It was the turning point of my whole life, and you're asking me? Right.
Just don't ask me to do it again.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Lasting Impressions
OK, I've had a chance to do some analysis on the kids' report cards ('cause that's what I do; I can't help myself) and some reflection on our life. Pirate Boy does have overall great grades, and #1 Son does have overall lousy ones. But the year's worth of grades tell a sad story.
Even accounting for the week of strep they both had this spring that set them back in their homework, both kids' grades slipped after last fall. More specifically, after the relationship between TM and me went to hell last fall. And kept slipping.
Dang. Maybe #1 Son would be better off with Mommy dearest after all.
I'm gonna cry.
Even accounting for the week of strep they both had this spring that set them back in their homework, both kids' grades slipped after last fall. More specifically, after the relationship between TM and me went to hell last fall. And kept slipping.
Dang. Maybe #1 Son would be better off with Mommy dearest after all.
I'm gonna cry.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Miracle of Miracles
Got the kids' report cards today. Finally, someone has done the necessary yet unpleasant deed: #1 Son will be repeating seventh grade next year. Hallelujah. Now of course Satan will be militantly trying to get him transferred to her obviously superior care because the school we've had him in is simply not teaching him.
It's inconceivable that he's simply not learning what they're trying to teach, or-- as is painfully apparent to everyone in this area-- that he's learning but not bothering to do the assignments that would allow him to pass. After all, the other schools he's been to have passed him every year whether he does anything or not.
And why do we not have him in those schools anymore? Anyone?
Think the current school is too hard? Well, it has been in the top 3 ranked schools in the state since its inception, and it does have rigorous standards of academics and behavior. But it's certainly not impossible to do well there. (Says Pirate Boy's proud mama, looking at all those A's on his report card.)
Several of the 7th grade teachers bothered to write notes on the grade sheet, along these lines: "#1 Son does well on tests but doesn't turn in homework." One goes so far as to say he gets A's on every test, participates well in class, obviously knows his stuff, but has turned in only one assignment for the year. So.... it's fail time.
And it's about time, too.
It's inconceivable that he's simply not learning what they're trying to teach, or-- as is painfully apparent to everyone in this area-- that he's learning but not bothering to do the assignments that would allow him to pass. After all, the other schools he's been to have passed him every year whether he does anything or not.
And why do we not have him in those schools anymore? Anyone?
Think the current school is too hard? Well, it has been in the top 3 ranked schools in the state since its inception, and it does have rigorous standards of academics and behavior. But it's certainly not impossible to do well there. (Says Pirate Boy's proud mama, looking at all those A's on his report card.)
Several of the 7th grade teachers bothered to write notes on the grade sheet, along these lines: "#1 Son does well on tests but doesn't turn in homework." One goes so far as to say he gets A's on every test, participates well in class, obviously knows his stuff, but has turned in only one assignment for the year. So.... it's fail time.
And it's about time, too.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
My So-Called Life
Got an email today from my long-lost friend MJ, who's currently in transit from Budapest to Bangkok; it made me smile. We went to spy school together ages ago when we were both young and ... not exactly naive, but much less experienced than we are now. And with less gray in our hair. (Sigh.)
MJ asked me to send the URL for my blog again, so I did, but then I realized it had been a while since I updated. Well, I thought, that will give her a chance to catch up on the last few major catastrophes in my life. But I couldn't do that to her. So here's a short update. Well, that was most of it, honestly. ;-)
In other news, I've got some new clothes! Well, OK, I got these clothes last fall from my dear sister Sylvia, in a care package she sent when my life was falling apart. Most of the clothes fit fine, but a few of them (mostly jeans) were just too tight. So I set them aside wistfully and had a great time wearing the other stuff. But just lately the other stuff (including things I've been wearing since before Pirate Boy was born) has gotten too big. As in, falling off me, big. And I'm plenty big myself. So I decided, what the heck. I got out the "small" stuff. Zipped up those jeans on the first try. That was a couple weeks back. Now the "small" jeans are getting big on me, too.
Can someone please tell me why? Bizarro world is my new life.
Which reminds me, the marriage counselor doesn't want to see both of us together anymore until we're "on the same page" about why we're going to therapy. Although I agree with her diagnosis, I'm not sure about her methods. Maybe a new counselor.
MJ asked me to send the URL for my blog again, so I did, but then I realized it had been a while since I updated. Well, I thought, that will give her a chance to catch up on the last few major catastrophes in my life. But I couldn't do that to her. So here's a short update. Well, that was most of it, honestly. ;-)
In other news, I've got some new clothes! Well, OK, I got these clothes last fall from my dear sister Sylvia, in a care package she sent when my life was falling apart. Most of the clothes fit fine, but a few of them (mostly jeans) were just too tight. So I set them aside wistfully and had a great time wearing the other stuff. But just lately the other stuff (including things I've been wearing since before Pirate Boy was born) has gotten too big. As in, falling off me, big. And I'm plenty big myself. So I decided, what the heck. I got out the "small" stuff. Zipped up those jeans on the first try. That was a couple weeks back. Now the "small" jeans are getting big on me, too.
Can someone please tell me why? Bizarro world is my new life.
Which reminds me, the marriage counselor doesn't want to see both of us together anymore until we're "on the same page" about why we're going to therapy. Although I agree with her diagnosis, I'm not sure about her methods. Maybe a new counselor.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Bloody Weather
Yeah, it's been a weird weather day, as you may have heard. Twisters everywhere, power outages, school lockdowns, hail-battered cars. One of the guys TM's working with this week heard the following from a friend in a bit of a quandary: "I tried to go to work, but when I got there the building was gone. So I went home-- well, I tried to..." You guessed it, that was gone, too.
On the other hand, TM got out of work early. And our therapist canceled our appointment tonight. ("Marriage Counseling Called on Account of Tornadoes" makes an awesome headline, don't you think?) But since we had a sitter already, we got to have a date-- a REAL date. We saw Indiana Jones 4 and it was heaven. (Me: "Cate Blanchett?! Really?!") And the kids had fun, too. So it was good for us.
[P.S. I totally wanna be Cate Blanchett.]
On the other hand, TM got out of work early. And our therapist canceled our appointment tonight. ("Marriage Counseling Called on Account of Tornadoes" makes an awesome headline, don't you think?) But since we had a sitter already, we got to have a date-- a REAL date. We saw Indiana Jones 4 and it was heaven. (Me: "Cate Blanchett?! Really?!") And the kids had fun, too. So it was good for us.
[P.S. I totally wanna be Cate Blanchett.]
Friday, May 09, 2008
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Feeling Weird
I am in such a bad mood; I shouldn't even be writing in public, though writing is what I need to do when I feel this rotten. I've already played several pieces on the piano, and I think my family is about ready for me to be done. I'd go for a walk but there's a thunderstorm out there. Bleah.
We were supposed to go to counseling tonight, but... well, things fell through as they are wont to do when we have no sitter. That's OK; we were scheduled to evaluate our options at tonight's session, which promised to be ugly, ugly, ugly.
TM's been passed out for most of the day/evening. The doc gave him a muscle relaxant and apparently he got a little too relaxed. Looks like I'm going to be the only functioning adult in this house for a while. (...Comment deleted...)
Cool news from my cousin, though. (No, not that cousin-- my other cousin.) Ryan's got a new movie coming out this summer (made by some guys I went to school with). Maybe he'll get his own IMDb page now, too. Sweet!
We were supposed to go to counseling tonight, but... well, things fell through as they are wont to do when we have no sitter. That's OK; we were scheduled to evaluate our options at tonight's session, which promised to be ugly, ugly, ugly.
TM's been passed out for most of the day/evening. The doc gave him a muscle relaxant and apparently he got a little too relaxed. Looks like I'm going to be the only functioning adult in this house for a while. (...Comment deleted...)
Cool news from my cousin, though. (No, not that cousin-- my other cousin.) Ryan's got a new movie coming out this summer (made by some guys I went to school with). Maybe he'll get his own IMDb page now, too. Sweet!
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Is It Spring Yet?
I feel like one of those poor plants outside, starting to put my head up just slightly, then getting beaten down by the torrents or frozen solid by the snow. Half of last month, I had this nasty migraine, but I started to feel better eventually, and the weather was turning nice. Then one by one, the kids and I got struck down by some disease or other. There was coughing, aching, tummy yucks-- a lot like we had earlier in the winter.
I could tell the time by when the little Punkin would start screaming in pain as the medicine wore off. When that stage hit me, I understood. I wanted to scream, too. Probably would have if I'd had any of my voice left. But no, Punkin and I had laryngitis for most of the month. He's still got it, in fact, though he'll tell you (hoarsely) that he's got his "full voice back." Sweet thing.
Eventually, it got so incredibly bad that we went to the doctor. (Lack of insurance does awful things to people, doesn't it?) Well, doctors. Three doctors, five strep tests, four rounds of antibiotics: $300. Being able to actually swallow again: priceless.
Well, at least there's the tax rebate coming. That ought to cover it.
Did I mention yesterday? TM crashed our car-- or, more accurately, someone else crashed into it, and him. The cost of that is forthcoming. I wished they'd total the darn thing. It needs new brakes and tires, and we can't afford either, and we can't afford to be without them. Sigh.
I think I'll just stay down here in the dirt. It's comfortable here.
I could tell the time by when the little Punkin would start screaming in pain as the medicine wore off. When that stage hit me, I understood. I wanted to scream, too. Probably would have if I'd had any of my voice left. But no, Punkin and I had laryngitis for most of the month. He's still got it, in fact, though he'll tell you (hoarsely) that he's got his "full voice back." Sweet thing.
Eventually, it got so incredibly bad that we went to the doctor. (Lack of insurance does awful things to people, doesn't it?) Well, doctors. Three doctors, five strep tests, four rounds of antibiotics: $300. Being able to actually swallow again: priceless.
Well, at least there's the tax rebate coming. That ought to cover it.
Did I mention yesterday? TM crashed our car-- or, more accurately, someone else crashed into it, and him. The cost of that is forthcoming. I wished they'd total the darn thing. It needs new brakes and tires, and we can't afford either, and we can't afford to be without them. Sigh.
I think I'll just stay down here in the dirt. It's comfortable here.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Mixed Blessings
Ha, what was I thinking? The migraine's on day 11, with a dollop of sinus pressure thrown in. We were supposed to go to marriage counseling again tonight, and again we have no sitter and I'm sick. The kids are well now, though, so I sent TM by himself. We'll see if he actually tells the counselor anything pertinent (like what we were fighting about last night, for instance). Or, rather, I'll never know. Sigh.
But there are other things to care about. Last night, my little sis and her family stopped by on their way back from house-hunting in the Midwest. (They caught a beauty, too!) Within an hour of their arrival at our house, before I could even get some dinner into them, Little Cat had taken a nose-dive off my boys' pirate bed and broken her tiny little arm. It didn't seem like it was that bad at first, and really it could have been a lot worse. Fortunately for Little Cat, her daddy's a vet-in-training, so he had control of the situation right away.
I still felt horrible. The poor little thing cried for hours even after getting the splint and sling on. Even after they got some of the codeine into her. Even after she should have long since exhausted all her energy and her voice. She was so frustrated that she couldn't use her right hand-- especially to suck her thumb for comfort. Sigh. I don't think either of her parents got a wink of sleep all night in our freezing-cold basement (because of course it snowed again).
I sound like such a whiner. I really am glad it wasn't worse, and that we were able to get her some medical care and medicine before everything closed for the night. Mama Cat just called to say they got home safely, which I'm very thankful for. More later, when the blue spots go away...
But there are other things to care about. Last night, my little sis and her family stopped by on their way back from house-hunting in the Midwest. (They caught a beauty, too!) Within an hour of their arrival at our house, before I could even get some dinner into them, Little Cat had taken a nose-dive off my boys' pirate bed and broken her tiny little arm. It didn't seem like it was that bad at first, and really it could have been a lot worse. Fortunately for Little Cat, her daddy's a vet-in-training, so he had control of the situation right away.
I still felt horrible. The poor little thing cried for hours even after getting the splint and sling on. Even after they got some of the codeine into her. Even after she should have long since exhausted all her energy and her voice. She was so frustrated that she couldn't use her right hand-- especially to suck her thumb for comfort. Sigh. I don't think either of her parents got a wink of sleep all night in our freezing-cold basement (because of course it snowed again).
I sound like such a whiner. I really am glad it wasn't worse, and that we were able to get her some medical care and medicine before everything closed for the night. Mama Cat just called to say they got home safely, which I'm very thankful for. More later, when the blue spots go away...
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Currently
I have 3 days' worth of work stacked up. I'm also just finishing/finished (I hope) a 3-day migraine and a 3+-day root canal. I feel like I've got a 72-hour virus. So instead of working, I'm goofing off. Go ahead, call me a slacker. I'll slap you when I can see straight again.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
I Will Not...
...allow the phrase "brains God gave a flea" to escape my lips. No matter how tempted...
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Bloody Hell
OK, it's not quite that bad, but you remember that root canal? Oh yeah. Went in Monday, spent 90 minutes in the chair, got what seemed like 90 shots to keep me numb ('cause I react badly to novocaine, as some of you may recall), and had a gallon of liquid sodium spilled in my mouth (ACK!), only to have the doc say, "I can't finish this in one session; you'll have to come back." Right.
So I left, my aching tooth stuffed with cotton and my twisted mouth unable to even sip through a straw. I scheduled the rest of my procedure for Wednesday and put off the appointment for getting a crown until later. Much later.
Wednesday, I only spent an hour in the chair, still got a lot of shots, but at least didn't end up gagging on sodium. The doc jabbed and poked and drilled and finally said, "I can't do this one; I'm sending you to a specialist." Argh.
Once again, numb face, twisted mouth, aching tooth full of cotton-- and no resolution.
Come to think of it, that sounds a lot like our marriage counseling sessions.
So I left, my aching tooth stuffed with cotton and my twisted mouth unable to even sip through a straw. I scheduled the rest of my procedure for Wednesday and put off the appointment for getting a crown until later. Much later.
Wednesday, I only spent an hour in the chair, still got a lot of shots, but at least didn't end up gagging on sodium. The doc jabbed and poked and drilled and finally said, "I can't do this one; I'm sending you to a specialist." Argh.
Once again, numb face, twisted mouth, aching tooth full of cotton-- and no resolution.
Come to think of it, that sounds a lot like our marriage counseling sessions.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Lessons Learned
We're on Spring Break here. Which means that most of us are home most of the time, and that's cool. Mostly. With some actual time and resources (i.e., tax refund that came in) on hand, I finally called the dentist. I finally got sick of this aching hole in my upper jaw and thought maybe I could get it fixed this week. Yeah.
Well, since the cavity had been festering for over 2 years while I had no insurance, it's not going to be a quick fix after all. Turns out that it's abscessing and will need a root canal and a crown now. Not to mention a week or 10 days' worth of nasty antibiotics to keep it from getting worse until they can fix it. Oh joy.
I'm not sure we have that much money after all. I am certain it would have been better to spend the $85 or $100 a couple years ago to get the small filling it would have taken to keep this from happening. So the lesson we take away from this week is, don't hesitate to look something ugly in the face as soon as you know it needs it. Because it will only get uglier if you wait. OK, that's also the lesson for the past 6 months, too.
Well, since the cavity had been festering for over 2 years while I had no insurance, it's not going to be a quick fix after all. Turns out that it's abscessing and will need a root canal and a crown now. Not to mention a week or 10 days' worth of nasty antibiotics to keep it from getting worse until they can fix it. Oh joy.
I'm not sure we have that much money after all. I am certain it would have been better to spend the $85 or $100 a couple years ago to get the small filling it would have taken to keep this from happening. So the lesson we take away from this week is, don't hesitate to look something ugly in the face as soon as you know it needs it. Because it will only get uglier if you wait. OK, that's also the lesson for the past 6 months, too.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Dashing Through...
... the snow, yes, and a lot of other muck. So much going on lately. So much I want to write about. No time. Cold cold cold. Sick kids, sick husband, sick self. Over and over. Lots of work to do, no money to pay any bills at all. Creditors calling. Maybe help will come in time. Borrowing medicine from the neighbors. Finding out that I'm not crazy after all. Having writers yell at me and bosses praise me. Realizing that I'm actually better off than some people. Feeling guilty about being so miserable. Whatever whatever. Goodnight. More later.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Stepping Out
So The Man and I are going out every week now. For marriage counseling. At the college. With a cute young thing named "HAHnnah" (well, that's how she says it). It might work. Anyone got a babysitter I can borrow?
Friday, January 11, 2008
Midnight Musings
Yes, I am still here. This time of year is always mentally draining for me. I usually stop and review where I've been, where I am and generally whether I'm on the right path.
This past year of course was... hard. Extra hard. And the news from last time didn't help. It represented a little bell ringing from my past life. And a nagging fear that I should have been there. I shouldn't have given up my old career in favor of my family. I could have helped. I should have... maybe.
But then I remember things like the recent escape of a dangerous criminal from a hospital in my former town back east. Apparently it's not uncommon there these days. And there was the sniper a few years ago, same area.
I really thought I had resolved all these second thoughts after 9/11. Eventually. It was another case of "I should have been there... I could have been there..." Then of course, I realized that if I had been there, I could have been dead.
So let's say we're OK where we are. At least I'm alive to be impoverished, crippled and unemployed. And I have some awesome people in my life. And who knows, maybe things will be OK after all.
More later.
This past year of course was... hard. Extra hard. And the news from last time didn't help. It represented a little bell ringing from my past life. And a nagging fear that I should have been there. I shouldn't have given up my old career in favor of my family. I could have helped. I should have... maybe.
But then I remember things like the recent escape of a dangerous criminal from a hospital in my former town back east. Apparently it's not uncommon there these days. And there was the sniper a few years ago, same area.
I really thought I had resolved all these second thoughts after 9/11. Eventually. It was another case of "I should have been there... I could have been there..." Then of course, I realized that if I had been there, I could have been dead.
So let's say we're OK where we are. At least I'm alive to be impoverished, crippled and unemployed. And I have some awesome people in my life. And who knows, maybe things will be OK after all.
More later.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Dark Day
I had a few things I was going to post about, but this day has been... well, weird. It's blizzarding here, which is always unnerving. And I've got migraines and other monthly yuckiness, but whatever. I was still recovering from getting almost no sleep last night, and waking up to find the boys had trashed the house with not just one but two science kits before 8 a.m., somehow.
But then I discovered that there's a hole in the world today. And it's anybody's guess what's going to fill it, besides violence and death. I mourn for the passing of a heroic and admirable woman. I hope you can rest in peace, Benazir. I weep for your country...
But then I discovered that there's a hole in the world today. And it's anybody's guess what's going to fill it, besides violence and death. I mourn for the passing of a heroic and admirable woman. I hope you can rest in peace, Benazir. I weep for your country...
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
OK, You've Been Good...
...And I promised I'd give you the answer, so here you go. (Drumroll:) That picture is now about 6 weeks old. It's amazing what you can do with crop and B/W. The cat-eye glasses I wear gave me the idea. I feel like an escapee from the 60's.
As for the guesses-- hee hee. Thanks, guys. Just for comparison, let me say, that photo in my sidebar is me about 15 years ago. This photo was taken on a family trip 20 years ago:
(That's me in the middle; yeah, dig the crazy blue 80's eyeshadow. For Renee: my youngest sister is the one hiding her eyes. The other one is about 3 years older. Twenty years ago, our mom would have been the right age for the mystery photo.)
And finally, this is the original of the picture you've been wondering about:
As for the guesses-- hee hee. Thanks, guys. Just for comparison, let me say, that photo in my sidebar is me about 15 years ago. This photo was taken on a family trip 20 years ago:
(That's me in the middle; yeah, dig the crazy blue 80's eyeshadow. For Renee: my youngest sister is the one hiding her eyes. The other one is about 3 years older. Twenty years ago, our mom would have been the right age for the mystery photo.)
And finally, this is the original of the picture you've been wondering about:
The Scone clan in all our glory. Hope you all had a marvelous Christmas.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Speaking of Age...
How old do you think this photo is? C'mon, just guess...
Feel free to guess who it is, too. (This offer void for anyone who's seen it before.)
I'll post the right answer later.
Does This Site Make Me Look Old?
A couple nights ago, there was a headline on MSN.com about older women getting breast enhancement surgery. OK, this is not interesting in itself, and I wouldn't even have seen it if I didn't have Hotmail to sign out of. But what leapt out at me was the headline and tagline they used for this article. To wit:
"Bigger Breasts for Boomers?
Women over 40 going in for enhancement..."
Um, excuse me? Let's have a quick history and pop culture lesson, shall we? A) "Boomer" = Baby boomer generation; i.e., the large number of children born to soldiers returning home from World War II (not, I repeat, NOT from Vietnam). B) WWII ran from 1939 (or 41 if you're American) to 1945-ish. So the boomers started being born around 1946. C) "Over 40" these days is someone who was born in 1966 or before. And D) in case anyone still hasn't figured out what the problem is:
1966
- 1946
-------
20 years (that is, a generation)
My *mom* is a Baby Boomer. And while, yes, she is "over 40," she's also over 60 (or will be in a couple weeks).
So what does that make me and other 40-ish types? Check it out on Wikipedia if you don't believe me. There are also other sources out there. Point is, I'm not hallucinating when I remember being in that generation that people still insist is in its 20s. Especially people at MSN. (A search on their site reveals that this article isn't an aberration; the mistake is chronic. I think I'll send them my resume; they seriously need an intelligent editor.)
"Bigger Breasts for Boomers?
Women over 40 going in for enhancement..."
Um, excuse me? Let's have a quick history and pop culture lesson, shall we? A) "Boomer" = Baby boomer generation; i.e., the large number of children born to soldiers returning home from World War II (not, I repeat, NOT from Vietnam). B) WWII ran from 1939 (or 41 if you're American) to 1945-ish. So the boomers started being born around 1946. C) "Over 40" these days is someone who was born in 1966 or before. And D) in case anyone still hasn't figured out what the problem is:
1966
- 1946
-------
20 years (that is, a generation)
My *mom* is a Baby Boomer. And while, yes, she is "over 40," she's also over 60 (or will be in a couple weeks).
So what does that make me and other 40-ish types? Check it out on Wikipedia if you don't believe me. There are also other sources out there. Point is, I'm not hallucinating when I remember being in that generation that people still insist is in its 20s. Especially people at MSN. (A search on their site reveals that this article isn't an aberration; the mistake is chronic. I think I'll send them my resume; they seriously need an intelligent editor.)
Monday, December 17, 2007
Punkin Presents
And yes, that is a large orange pumpkin there in the background. Our neighbors have a small pumpkin patch, and we've been cooking with the orange stuff a lot lately. I found a good cookie recipe on the 'net the other day, and I think I've finally got the hang of making the bread. Anybody else got a favorite pumpkin recipe?
I mentioned the pumpkin thing to my folks the other day, so in the package we received from them today were all sorts of non-pumpkin baking supplies. Double and triple hooray! I have the best parents ever.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
What's Up
Sick again. Don't know whether this has anything to do with the additional foot of snow we got this week, but maybe... Missed writer's group again because of it. They're gonna think I don't love them anymore.
#1 Son is at his first jujitsu exhibition tonight. He's already an orange belt, or is it brown? He's gotten both, I just can't remember which is which. All this as part of the wonderful school we send the kids to. I totally love it.
As I mentioned a while ago, we got a photo taken of our family, enough to send to all our friends and relatives. The photo cost $10; now we can't afford postage. I feel pretty silly. Well, eventually TM will get a job and we'll have some money again. Really. I have to believe it.
Speaking of my dear husband, he interviewed a couple weeks ago for a job that would be absolutely perfect for him-- and would pay twice what he could get around here. (Yeah, it's quite far away, and I don't know how we'd arrange the transportation, but we would. They'd let him telecommute most of the time "once he's settled in" so it would totally be worth it.)
We did take a test drive of a really spiffy new-model SUV recently; the dealership was offering restaurant gift cards. The sales guy was new, so he didn't remember to ask whether we could actually finance a new car before our test drive. Nope, sorry, no income means no sale. Sorry. This is one time when "no" is not the start of the sale.
Don't know what else. I've had a lot on my mind and have mentally composed several posts recently, but I can't remember what about. Maybe it'll come back later. Stay tuned.
#1 Son is at his first jujitsu exhibition tonight. He's already an orange belt, or is it brown? He's gotten both, I just can't remember which is which. All this as part of the wonderful school we send the kids to. I totally love it.
As I mentioned a while ago, we got a photo taken of our family, enough to send to all our friends and relatives. The photo cost $10; now we can't afford postage. I feel pretty silly. Well, eventually TM will get a job and we'll have some money again. Really. I have to believe it.
Speaking of my dear husband, he interviewed a couple weeks ago for a job that would be absolutely perfect for him-- and would pay twice what he could get around here. (Yeah, it's quite far away, and I don't know how we'd arrange the transportation, but we would. They'd let him telecommute most of the time "once he's settled in" so it would totally be worth it.)
We did take a test drive of a really spiffy new-model SUV recently; the dealership was offering restaurant gift cards. The sales guy was new, so he didn't remember to ask whether we could actually finance a new car before our test drive. Nope, sorry, no income means no sale. Sorry. This is one time when "no" is not the start of the sale.
Don't know what else. I've had a lot on my mind and have mentally composed several posts recently, but I can't remember what about. Maybe it'll come back later. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Life as We Know It
Yes, I'm still here. And yes, we're still surviving. I suspect my subconscious of hiding things from me; I always have the nagging feeling that I should be worried or upset about something. But we're moving on with our lives, trying our best to keep the love uppermost in our actions and trying not to let our physical and financial circumstances get us down. Mostly we win. So it's all good.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Huzzah!
The Scone household performs synchronized spoon surgery on the season's last squashes. Shortly to become pumpkin pies, cookies, breads, and possibly a nice set of earmuffs.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Getting Better
Well, I'm mostly over the cold. Which is good, because The Man and the little pirates have it now, and I'm on call.
I'm not getting very far with my NaNo thing, but that's OK. It's Year 3, which is always the most miserable year anyway. And I'm not completely losing, just oh, about halfway to where I should be by now. The important thing is that I'm making a start on the script to the new musical.
And, um... Pirate Boy won a "Nobel Prize" the other day for a machine he built for 2nd grade science fair. Cool huh? He dismantled it before I could get a picture, though, darn him.
Speaking of pictures, we got a family photo taken last Saturday for the first time since Pirate Boy was a baby. Well, we got about 30 of them taken. One of them wasn't entirely horrible. So we bought it.
What else? It's cold here. Nasty cold. Can it seriously be late November already?
I'm not getting very far with my NaNo thing, but that's OK. It's Year 3, which is always the most miserable year anyway. And I'm not completely losing, just oh, about halfway to where I should be by now. The important thing is that I'm making a start on the script to the new musical.
And, um... Pirate Boy won a "Nobel Prize" the other day for a machine he built for 2nd grade science fair. Cool huh? He dismantled it before I could get a picture, though, darn him.
Speaking of pictures, we got a family photo taken last Saturday for the first time since Pirate Boy was a baby. Well, we got about 30 of them taken. One of them wasn't entirely horrible. So we bought it.
What else? It's cold here. Nasty cold. Can it seriously be late November already?
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Sick This Week
Too sick to blog. Too sick to write my NaNo novel (which anyway sucks way worse than last year's). Too sick to do much of anything but lie in bed, though I occasionally crawl to the computer to check email. The Man promises he won't get sick until after I'm healthy again. I'm trying, really I am.
Otherwise, things are still going well. So I totally come out ahead here.
Otherwise, things are still going well. So I totally come out ahead here.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Chica Chica Boom Boom
Overheard at my house:
#1 Son: I want to make a present for my girlfriend.
[The Man and I exchange smirks. This will be his first.]
Pirate Boy: [startled] Girlfriend?! ... [thinks for a moment] I've got lots of those already.
TM: [singing] I'm the daddy of the Mack... Daddy...
And Punkin Boy? Quoth he: "Without us, the chicas got no boom!"
BWA HAHAHA HAHAHA!
I love our kids.
#1 Son: I want to make a present for my girlfriend.
[The Man and I exchange smirks. This will be his first.]
Pirate Boy: [startled] Girlfriend?! ... [thinks for a moment] I've got lots of those already.
TM: [singing] I'm the daddy of the Mack... Daddy...
And Punkin Boy? Quoth he: "Without us, the chicas got no boom!"
BWA HAHAHA HAHAHA!
I love our kids.
Monday, November 05, 2007
More Smiles
I'm sorry for the overkill. I just can't get enough of the happiness going on here. Wow. (And yeah, that's totally The Man with Punkin. I lost count of how many weird looks I got from people at the party: "Who is that guy with her? And why are they holding hands?" The things I do for love.)
Happy Family
I can't even begin to express how wonderfully things have changed for our family lately. The love just between The Man and the kids is awesome to see.
And the smiles! I love the smiles! So happy. I'm so happy.
Punkins at the Park
So, we took our boys to play at the park the other day.
They'd been feeling cooped up and were glad to get out. They climbed...
...investigated the use of seesaws to demonstrate a lever and fulcrum setup (Pirate Boy is working on simple machines in school)...
...and then they took a ride on the tire swing (Daddy-powered).
Wheee! They had fun!
But boy, then they started winding down...
Didn't even bother to get off the swing. Totally tuckered punkins.
...and then they took a ride on the tire swing (Daddy-powered).
Didn't even bother to get off the swing. Totally tuckered punkins.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Halloween Fun
#1 Son opted to sleep instead of go to the party... he regretted it later. So no pictures of him today.
Monday, October 29, 2007
The Drugs Are Good
That was the pronouncement from a friend of a friend who finally got onto antidepressants. And it's been frequently heard around this area since The Man got onto Prozac last week.
I've been a big fan of Prozac since spring of '91, when it turned me from a bad-tempered, suicidal slug (only a slight exaggeration) into someone I'd never been before: someone who smiled and laughed and got things done and had so much to look forward to. And it happened instantly, for which I've always been grateful.
The Man has been an anti-fan of all kinds of medications for as long as I've known him, so it was hard for him to face taking pills long-term. The doctors all say it may take 3 to 5 weeks for the meds to reach full effect, and I was seriously worried that it really would in this case. I couldn't be sure he'd actually keep taking them if he didn't notice a difference soon.
But my fears were unfounded. He went from Mr. Hyde back to Dr. Jekyll in about 60 seconds. And there he has stayed. Still an off-the-wall brainiac, with no signs of the wild beast he'd been and no inclination to do evil apparent. My husband is back! The drugs are good.
I've been a big fan of Prozac since spring of '91, when it turned me from a bad-tempered, suicidal slug (only a slight exaggeration) into someone I'd never been before: someone who smiled and laughed and got things done and had so much to look forward to. And it happened instantly, for which I've always been grateful.
The Man has been an anti-fan of all kinds of medications for as long as I've known him, so it was hard for him to face taking pills long-term. The doctors all say it may take 3 to 5 weeks for the meds to reach full effect, and I was seriously worried that it really would in this case. I couldn't be sure he'd actually keep taking them if he didn't notice a difference soon.
But my fears were unfounded. He went from Mr. Hyde back to Dr. Jekyll in about 60 seconds. And there he has stayed. Still an off-the-wall brainiac, with no signs of the wild beast he'd been and no inclination to do evil apparent. My husband is back! The drugs are good.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
On a Lighter Note
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Boot to the Head
First, I just want to say that I was justified in never wanting to experience the life of a single mom. It is HARD. Fortunately, I was practically living that life already, so it's not been too shocking a transition. ;-)
Second, I want everyone to know that I feel better now than I've felt in months. It's such a relief not to be living with that rabid animal that was pretending to be my husband.
Third, and most important, I'm cautiously optimistic that the judicious application of a boot to the head and keister of my dearly beloved husband was just the wake-up call he needed to get rid of the rabies. Yes, it's abominable that it took something so severe, but no other method was working. This one seems to have. Take a look at his blog and see what you think. I'm hopeful that things can get back to good again.
The boot stands at the ready, though. And I'm not giving him a key to my house anytime soon. Must make it safe first.
Second, I want everyone to know that I feel better now than I've felt in months. It's such a relief not to be living with that rabid animal that was pretending to be my husband.
Third, and most important, I'm cautiously optimistic that the judicious application of a boot to the head and keister of my dearly beloved husband was just the wake-up call he needed to get rid of the rabies. Yes, it's abominable that it took something so severe, but no other method was working. This one seems to have. Take a look at his blog and see what you think. I'm hopeful that things can get back to good again.
The boot stands at the ready, though. And I'm not giving him a key to my house anytime soon. Must make it safe first.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Done, Done, Done
Well, I had to do it without the combat boots, and I couldn't stop myself from slapping his lying, cheating face, but he's gone. And I'm getting the locks changed tonight. And sleeping with one eye open and my fingers on the phone. The Man I know would never hurt me or the kids, he certainly wouldn't cheat on his wife or endanger his family, but The Man I know isn't here anymore. I wonder if he even exists still.
Hell Hath No Fury
Well, I found more answers. With pictures, even. I really wish I hadn't.
That's not true. I just wish the answers weren't what they are.
Note to Incrediboy: "Who I am" is a former spy. Never forget that.
That's not true. I just wish the answers weren't what they are.
Note to Incrediboy: "Who I am" is a former spy. Never forget that.
Bang! Gotcha...
Oh I so want to swear. But I won't. I must be nice. I must absolutely not go to this house and get some answers about where my husband's been lately. But if any of you guys do, be sure to give the woman who lives there Elastigirl's regards. (And don't say a thing about tactical nukes; you'll ruin the surprise.)
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Gimme an "E"!
I've been having kind of a rough time lately, as you can probably tell. Crying a lot, very confused about what to do next. But slowly, I'm recovering. For example, I've managed to get my eyelids to a more normal shape and color recently. What it took was a little help. When I needed to confront the problems in my first marriage, I had Tank Girl. This time, I saw the light one day when Punkin was watching this:
Helen: [sobbing] Now I'm losing him! What'll I do? What'll I do?
Edna: What are you talking about?
Helen: [stops crying] Huh?
Edna: [shouts] You are Elastigirl! My God...
[swatting Helen with a newspaper]
Edna: Pull-yourself-together! "What will you do?" Is this a question? You will show him that you remember that he is Mr. Incredible, and you will remind him who *you* are. Well, you know where he is. Go, confront the problem. Fight! Win!
[normal voice]
Edna: And call me when you get back, darling. I enjoy our visits.
~~~~~
I love E. She's so cool. I have managed to mostly snap out of it, though I still do have these crying jags. But all day, these words go through my head: "Remind him who you are!" Too bad that who he is is apparently kind of a jerk these days.
Helen: [sobbing] Now I'm losing him! What'll I do? What'll I do?
Edna: What are you talking about?
Helen: [stops crying] Huh?
Edna: [shouts] You are Elastigirl! My God...
[swatting Helen with a newspaper]
Edna: Pull-yourself-together! "What will you do?" Is this a question? You will show him that you remember that he is Mr. Incredible, and you will remind him who *you* are. Well, you know where he is. Go, confront the problem. Fight! Win!
[normal voice]
Edna: And call me when you get back, darling. I enjoy our visits.
~~~~~
I love E. She's so cool. I have managed to mostly snap out of it, though I still do have these crying jags. But all day, these words go through my head: "Remind him who you are!" Too bad that who he is is apparently kind of a jerk these days.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
Ummm....
I don't know what to say. Honestly, I don't even know what to do. I do know that I probably won't post here again for a while and that I'll really miss doing so. I want to tell you all the insignificant little things going on in my life, but a big significant thing has come up and I don't know how it's going to turn out. I'm sorry. The last thing I need is to be alone right now, but I think that's what's going to happen. I'll write again later if I survive.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Oh Happy Day
Yes, the oldest boy is back, and yes, the younger boys are delirious with joy. Pirate Boy is doubly happy because he has started second grade and loves his teacher, his class, his curriculum AND the fact that he's been placed in third-grade math. So proud of himself! (OK, I'm proud of him, too.) I'm a little surprised that he's not in third-grade something else, but they do have a lot of really smart kids to deal with. Punkin is feeling ambivalent; he's glad #1 Son is back, he's sad that his brothers go off to school without him now, and he feels pretty OK about having Mama all to himself during the day. (Let me tell you, he'd much rather be in kindergarten!)
I'll tell you the best thing about this week, though. Within a half hour of his arrival home, #1 Son had finished telling us all about his exciting trip to China and his new sister and their trip to Nebraska and the Weird Al concert and everything. Now he was somehow surrounded by his younger brothers laughing and talking and clamoring for his attention. Dinner was on the table, everybody was busy. Suddenly, I heard our boy give such a laugh of delight it warmed my heart. "I'm SO GLAD to be home!" he crowed. We're so glad to have him.
I'll tell you the best thing about this week, though. Within a half hour of his arrival home, #1 Son had finished telling us all about his exciting trip to China and his new sister and their trip to Nebraska and the Weird Al concert and everything. Now he was somehow surrounded by his younger brothers laughing and talking and clamoring for his attention. Dinner was on the table, everybody was busy. Suddenly, I heard our boy give such a laugh of delight it warmed my heart. "I'm SO GLAD to be home!" he crowed. We're so glad to have him.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Heart's Blood
Tonight I'm feeling bloody. Not just as in "bloody awful" or even "did I bloody well need that?" No, I feel battered and torn and in need of medical attention. It's only mostly a hallucination. (OK, this is where all the Pollyannas get to leave the room, shaking their heads and muttering, "Geez, another self-pity party...") I don't mean it that way; I just need to talk about it. Get the bile out. Keeping it in will kill me.
I may be wrong there. Thinking about it gives me the nearest thing to a heart attack, and I surely don't need that at this time on a Saturday night. I fought one off last night that would have had me in the ER if we'd had any health insurance or any money or any hope of either. Just color me impoverished and depressed and waiting to die. Yay.
I haven't posted for the past few days because I turned my right hand into a chunk of well-done meat while fixing dinner one night and I just can't type left-handed. It still hurts to do a lot of things, and even the heat of this laptop is getting to me. But I tell you what, if I ever get an overdone steak again, I'm pulling out my big ol' bottle of Coppertone Aloe AfterSun to use as sauce. It has saved my life this week and kept this second-degree burn from needing a doctor. (I'm not looking forward to having all these blisters pop, though. That's gonna be UGLY.)
TM is back in school (I may have mentioned that), and the kids start back on Tuesday. Well, presumably, both of them do. You know how Miss Thing picked up #1 Son early, right? Here's me innocently thinking that she just wants to take him to Harry Potter, and at least she'll bring him back in time for us to take him school shopping and get his hair cut and adjust his brain to not being on the "All Fun, All the Time" channel. Well, I was naive.
TM emailed her a week or so ago to invite her to bring #1 Son to junior-high orientation on Thursday. It's kind of important for him; the students will be getting their schedules, their lockers, and several other useful items they'll need for the school year. I need not mention the value of getting acquainted with teachers and classmates, or just the freaking-out potential of starting junior high. But of course, she didn't want to let him go. And because of that, he didn't care to go either.
Well, it turns out that she was taking him to a Weird Al concert Friday evening, so I could understand. And since it was on the way, she could just... what? She could take him to Nebraska for the weekend? Because why? (I still don't have an answer on that one.) And on her way back Monday, she'll ever so kindly drop him off at our place. If he's lucky, he'll get a good night's sleep as his entire preparation for 7th grade. Lucky guy.
It makes me sick to even think of the consequences of this one. He was having a hard enough time in 6th grade. How on earth is he going to deal with walking in totally clueless on the first day of 7th? Badly, that's how. But "Mommy time" is more important than anything else he could possibly have or do in his entire life. Although I understand how painful it is to have to let go of this person you love as if your heart is walking around outside your body, I do not understand how she can mistreat that other person like she does. If you love him, let him have a life.
But she doesn't. I worry about her new "daughter" (I'm sorry, I can't think of this as a real family situation, the way things are) so much. TM finally got #1 Son to talk about his new "sister"; it turns out that they did bring her back from China after all. And she is just as deaf as we thought (but Miss Thing wouldn't admit). And she "tells on" him all the time, although I don't know how, since she speaks neither English nor ASL (not that Miss Thing would know ASL either). Oh, such a happy, normal family.
I may be wrong there. Thinking about it gives me the nearest thing to a heart attack, and I surely don't need that at this time on a Saturday night. I fought one off last night that would have had me in the ER if we'd had any health insurance or any money or any hope of either. Just color me impoverished and depressed and waiting to die. Yay.
I haven't posted for the past few days because I turned my right hand into a chunk of well-done meat while fixing dinner one night and I just can't type left-handed. It still hurts to do a lot of things, and even the heat of this laptop is getting to me. But I tell you what, if I ever get an overdone steak again, I'm pulling out my big ol' bottle of Coppertone Aloe AfterSun to use as sauce. It has saved my life this week and kept this second-degree burn from needing a doctor. (I'm not looking forward to having all these blisters pop, though. That's gonna be UGLY.)
TM is back in school (I may have mentioned that), and the kids start back on Tuesday. Well, presumably, both of them do. You know how Miss Thing picked up #1 Son early, right? Here's me innocently thinking that she just wants to take him to Harry Potter, and at least she'll bring him back in time for us to take him school shopping and get his hair cut and adjust his brain to not being on the "All Fun, All the Time" channel. Well, I was naive.
TM emailed her a week or so ago to invite her to bring #1 Son to junior-high orientation on Thursday. It's kind of important for him; the students will be getting their schedules, their lockers, and several other useful items they'll need for the school year. I need not mention the value of getting acquainted with teachers and classmates, or just the freaking-out potential of starting junior high. But of course, she didn't want to let him go. And because of that, he didn't care to go either.
Well, it turns out that she was taking him to a Weird Al concert Friday evening, so I could understand. And since it was on the way, she could just... what? She could take him to Nebraska for the weekend? Because why? (I still don't have an answer on that one.) And on her way back Monday, she'll ever so kindly drop him off at our place. If he's lucky, he'll get a good night's sleep as his entire preparation for 7th grade. Lucky guy.
It makes me sick to even think of the consequences of this one. He was having a hard enough time in 6th grade. How on earth is he going to deal with walking in totally clueless on the first day of 7th? Badly, that's how. But "Mommy time" is more important than anything else he could possibly have or do in his entire life. Although I understand how painful it is to have to let go of this person you love as if your heart is walking around outside your body, I do not understand how she can mistreat that other person like she does. If you love him, let him have a life.
But she doesn't. I worry about her new "daughter" (I'm sorry, I can't think of this as a real family situation, the way things are) so much. TM finally got #1 Son to talk about his new "sister"; it turns out that they did bring her back from China after all. And she is just as deaf as we thought (but Miss Thing wouldn't admit). And she "tells on" him all the time, although I don't know how, since she speaks neither English nor ASL (not that Miss Thing would know ASL either). Oh, such a happy, normal family.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
I Meant to Say...
Drug-induced brain fry continues to march along. Every day, with practically everything I do, I realize I've forgotten something. And boy, is that irritating. TM reminded me this evening of something I'd meant to mention last time in my rant about #1 Son's current jerky stepfather. Well, a couple of things. First, we still don't know whether those heinous excuses for adoptive parents actually got to bring back their new "daughter" with them from China.
Second, would you believe that those jerks (I don't know which one it was; I'm guessing it was "Mommy Dearest") not only took a photo of #1 Son sitting on the toilet, but actually posted it on the Web album, at the top of the page, where it would be the first thing to show up? Another reason I could happily slice them both up, pour acid on the pieces, and dance on the remains... I almost pitied her when I realize what a jerk she's married to, but I suspect she shares his ideas of humor.
And of course, she's not even considering bringing him here for junior-high orientation on the 30th, 'cause that might deprive her of something, like the ability to keep him away from us. (She'll say it's about her time with him, but she doesn't spend it with him; she goes to work and lets him watch TV all day or roam about the neighborhood. Yay, mom.) Must wait until the 1st, even though she picked him up a couple days early. His time with his dad? Oh who cares-- motherhood is everything.
My GYN asked me the other day (after checking my blood pressure) whether I have a lot of stress in my life. I almost said, "No, why?" Heh. I think what I said was something like, "Well, there is that whole being out of work for almost 2 years and having no money thing. That's a bit stressful." She looked at me weird. "Are you still married?" she asked sharply. "Well, yes, of course..." and then I realized the implications of her question, the unspoken addendum: "And what is your husband doing all this time?" Going to school, I swear (though I try not to). Two more years. Always two more years.
Second, would you believe that those jerks (I don't know which one it was; I'm guessing it was "Mommy Dearest") not only took a photo of #1 Son sitting on the toilet, but actually posted it on the Web album, at the top of the page, where it would be the first thing to show up? Another reason I could happily slice them both up, pour acid on the pieces, and dance on the remains... I almost pitied her when I realize what a jerk she's married to, but I suspect she shares his ideas of humor.
And of course, she's not even considering bringing him here for junior-high orientation on the 30th, 'cause that might deprive her of something, like the ability to keep him away from us. (She'll say it's about her time with him, but she doesn't spend it with him; she goes to work and lets him watch TV all day or roam about the neighborhood. Yay, mom.) Must wait until the 1st, even though she picked him up a couple days early. His time with his dad? Oh who cares-- motherhood is everything.
My GYN asked me the other day (after checking my blood pressure) whether I have a lot of stress in my life. I almost said, "No, why?" Heh. I think what I said was something like, "Well, there is that whole being out of work for almost 2 years and having no money thing. That's a bit stressful." She looked at me weird. "Are you still married?" she asked sharply. "Well, yes, of course..." and then I realized the implications of her question, the unspoken addendum: "And what is your husband doing all this time?" Going to school, I swear (though I try not to). Two more years. Always two more years.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Birth of a Mother
For those who were wondering, I had a laid-back, relaxed birthday. I slacked off totally on work and instead played Pirates! with my kids. We baked a chocolate cake and gave it rum-flavored, sea-green frosting. Yum! The Man ended up having to work most of the day and night, but he was home long enough to have dinner with us, so that was nice. (Dinner was Domino's pizza, courtesy of my baby sis. I totally refused to cook that day.)
Friday was little Cat's birthday; before we went to bed that night, Little Sis and her man had sent us photos from the party. What a cutie! I got to see pictures of her birth-mom and -grandma, who were there. The Man had to work from 8 a.m. to 2 a.m., so I was on my own basically forever. I took it a little easy, but had to make up the work I missed and oh, my house!
Saturday TM and I finally got to spend some quality time together. He had bought me a movie (The Corpse Bride) but we just sat and talked. It had been a while, and as much as I like Johnny Depp, I love my husband more. My folks had sent a gift card for Cold Stone Creamery (yum!), so I sent him out after the kids were in bed, and he returned with a couple cartons of sheer heaven. (Bing cherries were made to go in chocolate, that's all there is to it.)
Sunday, though... Actually, it was OK except I wasn't feeling well and had to lie down a lot of the day. Hmm, come to think of it, that's not really too bad at all. In the evening, I was up and about when TM opened an email from The Evil One's (third) husband. It had a link to the photos he took on their China trip, and I was anxious to see them. As I peered over TM's shoulder and waited for the photos to load (slowest photo site EVER), I noticed the title Satan's spouse had placed on this particular album: "My doofy stepson traipsing around China."
I went from peaceful to livid in 0.2 seconds. My hands actually clenched and I leaned slightly toward the monitor with a desperate desire to crush that man's throat and dance on his chest in spike heels. How DARE he??? was the tattoo of my heartbeat. How dare he call my stepson "doofy," and in a public forum, at that? Where exactly did he get off insulting his wife's child, in any case, and how on earth could he justify that, considering what nasty words (including "convicted, confessed child molester") could legitimately be applied to her stepson, his vile spawn?! The utter and unmitigated gall of the man!
Realizing how high my blood pressure was rising, I took a deep breath and a couple steps back. I tried to relax, but couldn't quite calm myself down. The outrage was unbelievable. As I closed my eyes and drew more deep breaths, I realized that my reaction wasn't altogether typical for a stepmother. That fanatical, violent surge of adrenaline belonged more to a protective mama bear, willing to stand up to anything for her children. And so I am. And he is mine. I hope he comes back soon.
Friday was little Cat's birthday; before we went to bed that night, Little Sis and her man had sent us photos from the party. What a cutie! I got to see pictures of her birth-mom and -grandma, who were there. The Man had to work from 8 a.m. to 2 a.m., so I was on my own basically forever. I took it a little easy, but had to make up the work I missed and oh, my house!
Saturday TM and I finally got to spend some quality time together. He had bought me a movie (The Corpse Bride) but we just sat and talked. It had been a while, and as much as I like Johnny Depp, I love my husband more. My folks had sent a gift card for Cold Stone Creamery (yum!), so I sent him out after the kids were in bed, and he returned with a couple cartons of sheer heaven. (Bing cherries were made to go in chocolate, that's all there is to it.)
Sunday, though... Actually, it was OK except I wasn't feeling well and had to lie down a lot of the day. Hmm, come to think of it, that's not really too bad at all. In the evening, I was up and about when TM opened an email from The Evil One's (third) husband. It had a link to the photos he took on their China trip, and I was anxious to see them. As I peered over TM's shoulder and waited for the photos to load (slowest photo site EVER), I noticed the title Satan's spouse had placed on this particular album: "My doofy stepson traipsing around China."
I went from peaceful to livid in 0.2 seconds. My hands actually clenched and I leaned slightly toward the monitor with a desperate desire to crush that man's throat and dance on his chest in spike heels. How DARE he??? was the tattoo of my heartbeat. How dare he call my stepson "doofy," and in a public forum, at that? Where exactly did he get off insulting his wife's child, in any case, and how on earth could he justify that, considering what nasty words (including "convicted, confessed child molester") could legitimately be applied to her stepson, his vile spawn?! The utter and unmitigated gall of the man!
Realizing how high my blood pressure was rising, I took a deep breath and a couple steps back. I tried to relax, but couldn't quite calm myself down. The outrage was unbelievable. As I closed my eyes and drew more deep breaths, I realized that my reaction wasn't altogether typical for a stepmother. That fanatical, violent surge of adrenaline belonged more to a protective mama bear, willing to stand up to anything for her children. And so I am. And he is mine. I hope he comes back soon.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Happy Anniversary to Me
Nine years, can you believe it? Nine years ago this afternoon (Hawaii time), TM and I were trailing behind a white-robed, hippy-ish island preacher across the grounds of the new "Fantasy Island" TV show, trying to get the workmen to get out of the way so we could go ahead with our wedding ceremony. Some highlights of the event (in case I haven't mentioned them too many times for you to forget), in no particular order:
- a large dog that knocked #1 Son (age 3) down and licked him all during the ceremony
- a manky but colorful parrot that sat on people's heads
- a long mournful blast on a conch shell to signify a long happy life together
- bridesmaids (and bride) in tropical print dresses
- a groom in a Hawaiian shirt and leafy lei
- the loud but gleeful statement, "I'm not wearing any underwear!"
- a preacherly monologue featuring the words "intimate relationships with animals"
- ocean breezes rustling the palm trees and tall grasses
- a massive mosquito attack on the legs of bride and bridesmaids
- wonderful family and friends, most of whom had made a long trip just for our special day (the chance to have a Hawaiian vacation wasn't a draw at all, I'm sure)
After cake, cookies, and socializing in the park, TM and I drove off into the be-rainbowed sunset for a relaxing wedding night at the Turtle Bay Hilton, with guava cake for breakfast. Not a bad start, really. Here's to the next nine years.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Getting Old
A lot of things seem to be getting old this week, not the least of which is me. That's right, kids, I'm less than a week from my dreaded 40th birthday. No, I haven't really been dreading it. I've been avoiding thinking about it. And when I do think of my age, I feel like I'm already 40 and looking pretty good considering. Well, I can dream, can't I? Fortunately, several of my friends have already turned 40; one of them called me this week and mentioned that the son of our other friend had graduated high school on her (Friend 1's) birthday this year. Ew, how old I feel.
And then I look around at my life and my little ones. Oh sure, at the family reunion last week, I saw my cousin who's 3 years older than me, and realized that she could be a grandma within the year. But I can't! As good as my little guys are about taking care of their "babies," they're nowhere near the age of having any of their own. Thank goodness!
#1 Son is another story. He called Friday to say he'd just gotten back from China, and I talked to him for a while. He was full of news about the trans-Pacific flight, traffic in China, their luggage getting lost, and people photographing him because he's a blonde. With some prompting, he told me about climbing the Great Wall, visiting Tiananmen Square, and seeing the terra cotta soldiers. Eventually, he mentioned the orphanage (that's what this whole trip was about, right? the adoption?) but only to tell how greedy and grabby the little kids were when he started handing out candy.
Then he said something I found really interesting. "For 2 weeks, I was an adult," he told me proudly. "In China, 12 is the age of adulthood." Really. I may not have mentioned it in this forum (although I'm vocal enough about it elsewhere), but the "sister" his Mommy is buying him (I have no doubt this is the way she thinks of it) is 12 years old, same as him. (Well, of course; he needs a playmate his own age. Duh.) Which makes me wonder about the Chinese as much as about the psycho woman. They know.
I've been wondering all this time who would allow this adoption to go forward, considering the circumstances. Besides the molester (who doesn't actually live with them and has had his record erased now that he's an adult in this country), there's still a boy who's entering his teens. And there's this girl his age, who's considered an adult in her country. And they're arranging for them to live in the same house (at least part of the time). And of course, Miss Thing can just leave either or both of them at the house anytime, 'cause they're old enough...
When he heard about it, TM's brother summed up the situation succinctly, "I can predict the future, and what I see is... a pregnant Asian chick." Tacky but likely. Damn that woman. Her insanity is decidedly getting old.
And then I look around at my life and my little ones. Oh sure, at the family reunion last week, I saw my cousin who's 3 years older than me, and realized that she could be a grandma within the year. But I can't! As good as my little guys are about taking care of their "babies," they're nowhere near the age of having any of their own. Thank goodness!
#1 Son is another story. He called Friday to say he'd just gotten back from China, and I talked to him for a while. He was full of news about the trans-Pacific flight, traffic in China, their luggage getting lost, and people photographing him because he's a blonde. With some prompting, he told me about climbing the Great Wall, visiting Tiananmen Square, and seeing the terra cotta soldiers. Eventually, he mentioned the orphanage (that's what this whole trip was about, right? the adoption?) but only to tell how greedy and grabby the little kids were when he started handing out candy.
Then he said something I found really interesting. "For 2 weeks, I was an adult," he told me proudly. "In China, 12 is the age of adulthood." Really. I may not have mentioned it in this forum (although I'm vocal enough about it elsewhere), but the "sister" his Mommy is buying him (I have no doubt this is the way she thinks of it) is 12 years old, same as him. (Well, of course; he needs a playmate his own age. Duh.) Which makes me wonder about the Chinese as much as about the psycho woman. They know.
I've been wondering all this time who would allow this adoption to go forward, considering the circumstances. Besides the molester (who doesn't actually live with them and has had his record erased now that he's an adult in this country), there's still a boy who's entering his teens. And there's this girl his age, who's considered an adult in her country. And they're arranging for them to live in the same house (at least part of the time). And of course, Miss Thing can just leave either or both of them at the house anytime, 'cause they're old enough...
When he heard about it, TM's brother summed up the situation succinctly, "I can predict the future, and what I see is... a pregnant Asian chick." Tacky but likely. Damn that woman. Her insanity is decidedly getting old.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Miner 49-er
My dad passed along this article today; being from that area, his family is passing around a lot of articles related to the mining situation this week. Apparently my cousin contacted a reporter and got some stuff into the paper. Kinda cool, but still sad.
Monday, August 06, 2007
I Can't Believe It
I just cannot believe it. Actually, this could have begun the post I was tempted to write last night, which would have been a long whiny rant about how if I hadn't been so darned responsible as to double-check at the last minute, I wouldn't have even known that I was supposed to report for jury duty this morning. And how I'd forgotten when I postponed it originally (it was supposed to be during my family reunion last week) that today was my deadline as well as smack-dab in the middle of Migraine Week. And how I was going to lose out on about $100, which my family could ill afford at this time. And don't get me started about "What am I supposed to do with my kids all day?" That was a good whine.
But guess what? I went to jury duty, the kids went to work with dad, they had a great time, I got dismissed right away, we got home for lunch and a nap, I finished my articles in plenty of time (for the first time ever) and have actually been working on other people's! Punkin Boy fell asleep early, so bedtime was very quiet, and Pirate Boy promises to sleep till noon tomorrow. (Don't you believe it; but it's very nice of him.)
Whew! I am not staying up past midnight tonight. Must get rid of the puffy eyes from crying my self-pitying loser self to sleep last night. And I'll probably have no work at all to do tomorrow. Can you believe how sweet life is?
But guess what? I went to jury duty, the kids went to work with dad, they had a great time, I got dismissed right away, we got home for lunch and a nap, I finished my articles in plenty of time (for the first time ever) and have actually been working on other people's! Punkin Boy fell asleep early, so bedtime was very quiet, and Pirate Boy promises to sleep till noon tomorrow. (Don't you believe it; but it's very nice of him.)
Whew! I am not staying up past midnight tonight. Must get rid of the puffy eyes from crying my self-pitying loser self to sleep last night. And I'll probably have no work at all to do tomorrow. Can you believe how sweet life is?
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Quick! Look Over There!
Yo ho ho, my youngest niece Cat steals all the treasure while Punkin Boy and Darla (a.k.a. the crew) are distracted. She tells her mama (via sign language) that she plans to eat it. Well, that's a safe hiding place... sort of.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
By the Way
It's on my mind, although I haven't mentioned it: #1 Son is on his trip to China, or at least I presume so. (Miss Thing doesn't bother sending an email saying, "OK, we're leaving tomorrow" or anything. The only information we've got is what he told me after talking to her on the phone a couple weeks back. How any parent can be expected to live this way is beyond me.)
Now tell me, you parents out there (and even you non-parents with a bit of imagination): With the information that's been in the news lately, combined with the widespread pet sickness, would you feel comfortable about your kid traveling (and specifically eating) in China these days? Me neither.
Now tell me, you parents out there (and even you non-parents with a bit of imagination): With the information that's been in the news lately, combined with the widespread pet sickness, would you feel comfortable about your kid traveling (and specifically eating) in China these days? Me neither.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Times Are a-Changin'
This weekend, my little Punkin Boy gave a talk in church for the first time. Yes, he is 4 years old, and yes, that's probably weird in any culture other than the one I belong to. It's just what we do. With most people, I think it helps them become better public speakers over the years, so generally, it's a good thing.
TM and I went to watch him. For those who are unaware, during the second hour of our Sunday meetings, the kids ages 3 to 7 gather for "Sharing Time" and for another hour in individual classes. (The older kids do classes first.) Talks happen during "Sharing Time."
I was really nervous for him. I still remember my first talk when I was 4. I had prepared a really good talk (I thought) on the story of Jonah. I wrote it all out and was ready (though a little scared) to give it when the time came. But I guess I was a little too timid. My voice apparently didn't carry to the back of the room, and some kids commented on it. The nice lady who was in charge thought my talk was so good (so the story goes) that she felt everyone should hear it. But since my voice was too quiet, she took my notes out of my hand and read them again.
I was so humiliated I wanted to die-- not just then, but every time anyone has ever asked me to give a talk in church since then. I have had to rudely run away or hang up on people once or twice without explaining because I felt that I must throw up right now. How embarrassing. You'd think I'd get over it, especially after all these years and all those speech classes. But no.
I sat there at the back of the room, clutching my husband's hand and trying to smile instead of panic on behalf of my baby. I realized that nowadays there are microphones at the podium so that nobody has to go through what I did. (Of course it was all about me.) And Punkin Boy stepped right up to the microphone and started to read out his talk (on Ephesians Ch. 6) just as bold as you please.
But then it hit me: someone had turned off the microphone earlier and hadn't turned it back on! I panicked. I trembled in my seat. I wanted to cry or yell at someone, "Don't do this to my baby!" I was terrified and could just about see the whole scenario repeating itself. Then one of the "nice ladies in charge" got up-- my life flashed before my eyes-- and turned the microphone back on.
Whew! Punkin Boy had another couple sentences to go and hadn't noticed a thing. He finished reading, nodded to the audience, and went back to his seat smiling proudly. I could hardly keep back the tears. "Good job, baby," I whispered, and he ran to me and climbed on my lap for a hug. Crisis averted. Happy times.
TM and I went to watch him. For those who are unaware, during the second hour of our Sunday meetings, the kids ages 3 to 7 gather for "Sharing Time" and for another hour in individual classes. (The older kids do classes first.) Talks happen during "Sharing Time."
I was really nervous for him. I still remember my first talk when I was 4. I had prepared a really good talk (I thought) on the story of Jonah. I wrote it all out and was ready (though a little scared) to give it when the time came. But I guess I was a little too timid. My voice apparently didn't carry to the back of the room, and some kids commented on it. The nice lady who was in charge thought my talk was so good (so the story goes) that she felt everyone should hear it. But since my voice was too quiet, she took my notes out of my hand and read them again.
I was so humiliated I wanted to die-- not just then, but every time anyone has ever asked me to give a talk in church since then. I have had to rudely run away or hang up on people once or twice without explaining because I felt that I must throw up right now. How embarrassing. You'd think I'd get over it, especially after all these years and all those speech classes. But no.
I sat there at the back of the room, clutching my husband's hand and trying to smile instead of panic on behalf of my baby. I realized that nowadays there are microphones at the podium so that nobody has to go through what I did. (Of course it was all about me.) And Punkin Boy stepped right up to the microphone and started to read out his talk (on Ephesians Ch. 6) just as bold as you please.
But then it hit me: someone had turned off the microphone earlier and hadn't turned it back on! I panicked. I trembled in my seat. I wanted to cry or yell at someone, "Don't do this to my baby!" I was terrified and could just about see the whole scenario repeating itself. Then one of the "nice ladies in charge" got up-- my life flashed before my eyes-- and turned the microphone back on.
Whew! Punkin Boy had another couple sentences to go and hadn't noticed a thing. He finished reading, nodded to the audience, and went back to his seat smiling proudly. I could hardly keep back the tears. "Good job, baby," I whispered, and he ran to me and climbed on my lap for a hug. Crisis averted. Happy times.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Psycho Babble
Just had to share: I got an email from a long-lost high-school friend who says she's been reading my blog (but not commenting, you'll notice-- the punk!). She adds that she ran into another, even longer-lost friend, who was my best buddy in grade school, and gave me a little news about her, too. I'm so psyched! Maybe Classmates.com is worth something, after all.
I want this job at my favorite chocolate factory, but I can't have it because of my back. Do you think I can persuade TM to take a crack at it? (Did someone say "crack addict"? Yep, I'm hooked on chocolate.)
Meanwhile, I'm avoiding doing my work. I'm getting editor (I almost typed "idiot" rather Freudianly) burnout already. Need to be independently wealthy so that I can focus on my writing instead. Overdrawn and behind on the bills just isn't cutting it.
Still, my children have a roof over their heads despite nearly 2 years without me bringing home the bacon. And they're showing signs of becoming such overachieving super-geniuses as the world hasn't seen since the passing of Isaac Asimov (oops, sorry, Brother Card). So it's not all bad.
I want this job at my favorite chocolate factory, but I can't have it because of my back. Do you think I can persuade TM to take a crack at it? (Did someone say "crack addict"? Yep, I'm hooked on chocolate.)
Meanwhile, I'm avoiding doing my work. I'm getting editor (I almost typed "idiot" rather Freudianly) burnout already. Need to be independently wealthy so that I can focus on my writing instead. Overdrawn and behind on the bills just isn't cutting it.
Still, my children have a roof over their heads despite nearly 2 years without me bringing home the bacon. And they're showing signs of becoming such overachieving super-geniuses as the world hasn't seen since the passing of Isaac Asimov (oops, sorry, Brother Card). So it's not all bad.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Fed Up
I've had just about enough of everything tonight, especially work. But I haven't killed anyone yet. Good on me.
By the bye, did you know that cocoa-oatmeal Raisinette cookies, when frozen and then warmed in the microwave, smell just like toasted marshmallows? I wonder why...
By the bye, did you know that cocoa-oatmeal Raisinette cookies, when frozen and then warmed in the microwave, smell just like toasted marshmallows? I wonder why...
Thursday, July 12, 2007
I Get It Now
There surely was something suspicious about the sudden decision on The Evil One's part to whisk #1 Son away from us early even though she was supposed to work, and now I know what the motivation was. Harry Potter. Or rather, the persistent desire to have #1 Son think she's just the best, most fun person in the world. Still. I've been slammed for calling her a Disneyland mom, but what do you call it?
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Here Today, Gone Tomorrow
I've been down with migraine all day long. Well, actually, since 3 p.m. last Thursday. But today, I couldn't even get up out of bed until it was time to make dinner, and even then I had to really concentrate to boil some spaghetti.
#1 Son was out most of the day with a church group, waterskiing and having a good time. I was really glad of it, though his little brothers were lonely. I struggled through the bedtime routine, having told #1 Son I'd be glad to hear more about his day once the other kids were taken care of.
But while I was in the other room singing lullabyes, who should call up but the Evil One. "Well, it looks like we'll be going to China on the 25th; I think I'll come pick you up tomorrow," she tells him. My first thought was, "You're not going to see your dad again until September..." Actually, I had a moment of "She's not supposed to come until Sunday-- Saturday at earliest!" But that was part of the whole train of thought: The Man's working till 11 tonight, he'll be leaving again early in the morning, and he's working late again tomorrow. He'll be devastated not to see his boy even to say goodbye...
I was good, though. I didn't yell or scream or even make a sarcastic remark. I did mention TM's work thing, as an "Isn't it a shame?" aside. I didn't mention how his brothers will cry when he up and leaves with hardly any warning. That's for me to deal with.
Some days I feel like quoting from Hook:
"I hate... I hate... I hate Peter Pan!" Only it's not Peter Pan, it's that nasty, nasty, selfish woman who gave birth to #1 Son. And I really hate feeling this way.
#1 Son was out most of the day with a church group, waterskiing and having a good time. I was really glad of it, though his little brothers were lonely. I struggled through the bedtime routine, having told #1 Son I'd be glad to hear more about his day once the other kids were taken care of.
But while I was in the other room singing lullabyes, who should call up but the Evil One. "Well, it looks like we'll be going to China on the 25th; I think I'll come pick you up tomorrow," she tells him. My first thought was, "You're not going to see your dad again until September..." Actually, I had a moment of "She's not supposed to come until Sunday-- Saturday at earliest!" But that was part of the whole train of thought: The Man's working till 11 tonight, he'll be leaving again early in the morning, and he's working late again tomorrow. He'll be devastated not to see his boy even to say goodbye...
I was good, though. I didn't yell or scream or even make a sarcastic remark. I did mention TM's work thing, as an "Isn't it a shame?" aside. I didn't mention how his brothers will cry when he up and leaves with hardly any warning. That's for me to deal with.
Some days I feel like quoting from Hook:
"I hate... I hate... I hate Peter Pan!" Only it's not Peter Pan, it's that nasty, nasty, selfish woman who gave birth to #1 Son. And I really hate feeling this way.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Nose to the Grindstone, Sorta
Lucky me, deadline falls right smack in the middle of Migraine Week. I did edited 40 articles one deadline day last month, though, so I'm sure I can do it again. Yeah, I'm sure I can. I don't even have to bake a cake this time.
What I'm working on recently: "How to Deal with Premenstrual Irritability" (also "How to Breed Peafowl" and "How to Grow a Beard"-- all from one author!); I learn so much with this job.
The little guys have been very very good today, which I totally need. #1 Son has been weird and mopey. (Teen years approaching, did I say?) A little more initiative and independence would serve him well.
The Man IM's me to say he's thinking of coming home early because of the heat, again. Can someone please tell me why anybody would stick their IT department in a building with no air conditioning? TM works on the second floor, and it's hovering around 100 degrees, again. Yack. Well, that'll be some help with the kids, maybe.
What I'm working on recently: "How to Deal with Premenstrual Irritability" (also "How to Breed Peafowl" and "How to Grow a Beard"-- all from one author!); I learn so much with this job.
The little guys have been very very good today, which I totally need. #1 Son has been weird and mopey. (Teen years approaching, did I say?) A little more initiative and independence would serve him well.
The Man IM's me to say he's thinking of coming home early because of the heat, again. Can someone please tell me why anybody would stick their IT department in a building with no air conditioning? TM works on the second floor, and it's hovering around 100 degrees, again. Yack. Well, that'll be some help with the kids, maybe.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Me, at Midnight, Again
I named my blog ages ago when I was working more than full-time trying to support my family, and the only time I had to myself when I could write was after I lost lucidity, sometime in the wee hours of the night. I felt kind of silly after I lost my job and could blog just about anytime I wanted to. I could just hear people wondering "What's up with the 'midnight' thing? She only posts at lunchtime..."
Well, I'm back to the witching hour, when I have any time at all, that is. And it is because I'm working again, though for only a fraction of the pay and no benefits at all. Mostly, I don't mind. At least I'm working again and can feel like I'm contributing something to our family's upkeep. (Yes, it was bothering me.) But I'm tired and cranky and I occasionally wonder whether it'll kill me, and whether anyone would miss me if I did.
And then I have these moments of rapturous appreciation from my kids, especially Pirate Boy, who (by virtue of having finally cleaned his room) now has his own email and blog! He thinks he is the coolest thing in the world, and that I'm the coolest mama for having made it possible. Those snuggly hugs are totally worth staying alive for.
P.S. Let me know if you want to visit or write to the little guy, and I'll email you the details. He loves getting mail!
Well, I'm back to the witching hour, when I have any time at all, that is. And it is because I'm working again, though for only a fraction of the pay and no benefits at all. Mostly, I don't mind. At least I'm working again and can feel like I'm contributing something to our family's upkeep. (Yes, it was bothering me.) But I'm tired and cranky and I occasionally wonder whether it'll kill me, and whether anyone would miss me if I did.
And then I have these moments of rapturous appreciation from my kids, especially Pirate Boy, who (by virtue of having finally cleaned his room) now has his own email and blog! He thinks he is the coolest thing in the world, and that I'm the coolest mama for having made it possible. Those snuggly hugs are totally worth staying alive for.
P.S. Let me know if you want to visit or write to the little guy, and I'll email you the details. He loves getting mail!
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Blah
No word yet on when The Man will get paid. (What? I didn't tell you the story about how the state is stealing our interest-- I mean, keeping its employees' money for an extra few weeks?) I unfortunately know how far off my payday is (at least another month). Sigh. I guess we won't get to buy this.
Friday, June 22, 2007
When in Pain
This article really made my day. I'm still in pain, but at least someone out there understands. Now if I only could afford all those lovely treatments and preventions. No? OK, pass me the drugs. And some for the kids, too.
Friday, June 15, 2007
I Could So Home School
Yesterday The Man (TM) worked late again, and I felt exhausted. I had just started to chide myself for being such a wimp, when something inside me rebelled and started listing all the things I'd done since I woke up that morning. These are the ones I can remember:
- Made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for me and the kids
- Did laundry and dishes
- Edited half a dozen articles
- Did a ton of research on the Internet
- Wrote one article
- Emailed each of my authors at least once
- Wiped a stinky butt more times than I care to count
- Graded an essay
- Broke up a couple dozen fights
- Supervised art and writing lessons
- Downloaded several photos to my hard drive
- Recovered from 3 fatal computer errors
- Read a dozen books with children
- Got #1 Son to mow the lawn
- Arranged for our food to be delivered
And did all of this with cramps and a migraine, on 5 hours' sleep. All right, I'm not trash-talking to myself anymore. In fact, I'm thinking I could be a teacher with credentials like that.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Little Rascals
More adorable kid stuff from this past month. On Sunday, this adorable niece of mine (just call her Darla) sweet-talked my boys into doing a (puppet) show with her. So here, live from Piano-Bench Theater, I bring you The Tale of the King, the Queen, and Three Wooden Spoons.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Pow!
And here is the handsome and talented Pirate Boy (did I mention he's 7 years old now?) getting his kicks on some grass that's way healthier than ours. (Yes, it is way too hot to wear that shirt outside. Luckily his pants are well air-conditioned.)
Pop!
Here we have Punkin Boy doing his impression of a baby dragon hatching out of its egg. I'm telling you, people, the amusement never ends.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Ahoy!
It's Pirate Boy's birthday, and the little rogue is now seven! Boy, that's going to take some getting used to. I have a ton to do today, as those of you with kids can imagine.
Plus! I have to do my entire month's edits before morning--huzzah! The project boss emailed me this morning to see what was up; she had this kind of worried tone. Well, yeah, I know I've got a lot of articles to edit before 7 a.m. tomorrow (like, 40). Now that I've written my 40 articles I can devote all my time to the editing. Be done by one. Ciao!
Well, it was something like that. By lunchtime, I had 16 done, and I've done another 6 since. (I took a break to bake a cake and run the kids around the...neighborhood. No lakes.) I will be done tonight. And I have some words for some of those writers...
Anyway, just thought I'd let you know I'm still alive. Love you all!
Plus! I have to do my entire month's edits before morning--huzzah! The project boss emailed me this morning to see what was up; she had this kind of worried tone. Well, yeah, I know I've got a lot of articles to edit before 7 a.m. tomorrow (like, 40). Now that I've written my 40 articles I can devote all my time to the editing. Be done by one. Ciao!
Well, it was something like that. By lunchtime, I had 16 done, and I've done another 6 since. (I took a break to bake a cake and run the kids around the...neighborhood. No lakes.) I will be done tonight. And I have some words for some of those writers...
Anyway, just thought I'd let you know I'm still alive. Love you all!
Friday, June 01, 2007
Easy Come, Easy Go
Yesterday, I was disappointed (to say the least) to learn that the contract for my second job fell through, so I won't be working that one after all. At least this time. They'll try again later. Sigh. I figured it must have been for the best, since I'm struggling just to get my minimum articles done now that the kids are home from school. "I guess I couldn't handle another job," I told myself.
Then this afternoon, the writing project boss called me up and asked, "Are you an editor? Would you like to be an editor for us?" Sweet! Yes and yes, I said. Apparently, the editing is easier and way faster than the writing (go figure), so the editors make pretty decent money. Awwriiighht!
Meanwhile, The Man (TM) is still working 2 jobs, one of which has him for, what, 14 hours just today. That makes my full-time job as a mom a lot more tiring. (Still could be worse--I'm not really a single parent, I keep reminding myself!)
I'm just about recovered from last weekend, with the visit of 8 of my wonderful relatives (including 2 of the cutest nieces anyone's ever had). And it turns out TM's parents will be arriving for a visit either tonight or tomorrow, depending on how fast Dad decides to drive. Whee!
Anybody got a spare nap on them?
Then this afternoon, the writing project boss called me up and asked, "Are you an editor? Would you like to be an editor for us?" Sweet! Yes and yes, I said. Apparently, the editing is easier and way faster than the writing (go figure), so the editors make pretty decent money. Awwriiighht!
Meanwhile, The Man (TM) is still working 2 jobs, one of which has him for, what, 14 hours just today. That makes my full-time job as a mom a lot more tiring. (Still could be worse--I'm not really a single parent, I keep reminding myself!)
I'm just about recovered from last weekend, with the visit of 8 of my wonderful relatives (including 2 of the cutest nieces anyone's ever had). And it turns out TM's parents will be arriving for a visit either tonight or tomorrow, depending on how fast Dad decides to drive. Whee!
Anybody got a spare nap on them?
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
WooHOO!
I got a job offer today! It would pay a lot more than I'm making now and be part time work from home. I told them heck yeah, I'm interested. Bring it on!
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Getting Close
Look at that ticker. Four days left. Yikes! Actually, it's not that bad, now that I've gotten rid of the bleeding and most of the migraine hangover. I've gotten a sitter for my two cute little nieces for most of the day Saturday (and that's huge). Now I just need to find someone to watch my 3 sons between 9:30 and noon, and someone to bring them to the temple at 2:00. The Man (TM) and I have to be inside from 11:30 on, and yes, it does take a couple hours to get there.
The logistics are driving me crazy, but I think I've nearly got it figured out. My folks are flying in that day and meeting us there, my sisters are coming an hour after the rest of us, various guests may or may not attend (although that part is OK). I expect to be worried sick until everyone actually shows up, but I'm going to try to relax and trust in the Lord. He wants us there, so it will all work out, I'm sure.
The thing that bothers me most is #1 Son. Because he's got a different mother and because he hasn't been baptized, he doesn't get to be in the temple with us. His cousins who were going to spend that time with him aren't going to make it now, so he'll just be sitting by himself for a while, and it breaks my heart to think of how lonely that will feel. Maybe he'll just bring a book and shrug it off. I sort of hope so. But if not... how can we help him know he's a loved and wanted part of our family?
The logistics are driving me crazy, but I think I've nearly got it figured out. My folks are flying in that day and meeting us there, my sisters are coming an hour after the rest of us, various guests may or may not attend (although that part is OK). I expect to be worried sick until everyone actually shows up, but I'm going to try to relax and trust in the Lord. He wants us there, so it will all work out, I'm sure.
The thing that bothers me most is #1 Son. Because he's got a different mother and because he hasn't been baptized, he doesn't get to be in the temple with us. His cousins who were going to spend that time with him aren't going to make it now, so he'll just be sitting by himself for a while, and it breaks my heart to think of how lonely that will feel. Maybe he'll just bring a book and shrug it off. I sort of hope so. But if not... how can we help him know he's a loved and wanted part of our family?
Monday, May 14, 2007
You've Really Gotta Hear This
"Geeks in Love" is the new totally favorite song of The Man (TM) and me. Anybody else identify with this video? Makes me wanna dance. Lyrics provided below for your amusement and edification. #:)
Geeks In Love
Nobody's cool as we, nor quite as esoterically far out.
We're so far out it's creepy.
I don't think they'll ever get the groovy standards that we set for love,
but they're not smart like we be.
They have no roses.
Subconsciously they envy us a lot.
They look down their noses and see a couple of dorks with more love than they have got.
When they see us holding hands, they wish that they were geeks in love.
And when they hear our favorite bands, they wish that they were geeks in love.
We rattle off our in-jokes while they wish that they were geeks in love.
And while we make each other smile, they wish that they were geeks in...
La la la,
la la la,
la-lubbidy-da-diddy-love.
La la la,
la la la,
ka-boominy-woah-nelly-love. [Edit: As much as I love this one, it's really "walnutty"]
La la la,
la la la,
ga-shibbidy-waffles-and-love.
La la la,
la la la la love.
As far as I can tell, while other lovers go through hell,
we'll know we're too cool for damnation.
We may not be cutting edge, but we won't take the mainstream pledge,
for we don't need your admiration.
They may not show it.
It doesn't fit their made-up little roles.
They don't even know it, but jealousy abounds within their souls.
When they see us on the street, they wish that they were geeks in love.
And when they hear us trick or treat, they wish that they were geeks in love.
As we lock arms and skip away, they wish that they were geeks in love.
And you can almost hear them say they wish that they were geeks in...
La la la,
la la la,
la-lubbidy-do-diddy-love.
La la la,
la la la,
fa-doobidy-ding-dong-love.
La la la,
la la la,
za-muppety-puppety-love.
La la la,
la la la,
sha-peppity-bismol-love.
La la la,
la la la,
a-bubbly-lava-lamp-love.
La la la,
la la la,
ma-spockity-nimoy-love.
La la la,
la la la,
da-ponkity-ponkity-love.
La la la,
la la la,
geekity-geekity-geeks in love.
Geeks In Love
Nobody's cool as we, nor quite as esoterically far out.
We're so far out it's creepy.
I don't think they'll ever get the groovy standards that we set for love,
but they're not smart like we be.
They have no roses.
Subconsciously they envy us a lot.
They look down their noses and see a couple of dorks with more love than they have got.
When they see us holding hands, they wish that they were geeks in love.
And when they hear our favorite bands, they wish that they were geeks in love.
We rattle off our in-jokes while they wish that they were geeks in love.
And while we make each other smile, they wish that they were geeks in...
La la la,
la la la,
la-lubbidy-da-diddy-love.
La la la,
la la la,
ka-boominy-woah-nelly-love. [Edit: As much as I love this one, it's really "walnutty"]
La la la,
la la la,
ga-shibbidy-waffles-and-love.
La la la,
la la la la love.
As far as I can tell, while other lovers go through hell,
we'll know we're too cool for damnation.
We may not be cutting edge, but we won't take the mainstream pledge,
for we don't need your admiration.
They may not show it.
It doesn't fit their made-up little roles.
They don't even know it, but jealousy abounds within their souls.
When they see us on the street, they wish that they were geeks in love.
And when they hear us trick or treat, they wish that they were geeks in love.
As we lock arms and skip away, they wish that they were geeks in love.
And you can almost hear them say they wish that they were geeks in...
La la la,
la la la,
la-lubbidy-do-diddy-love.
La la la,
la la la,
fa-doobidy-ding-dong-love.
La la la,
la la la,
za-muppety-puppety-love.
La la la,
la la la,
sha-peppity-bismol-love.
La la la,
la la la,
a-bubbly-lava-lamp-love.
La la la,
la la la,
ma-spockity-nimoy-love.
La la la,
la la la,
da-ponkity-ponkity-love.
La la la,
la la la,
geekity-geekity-geeks in love.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Materi i Deti
(For those of you who don't know, that's a pun on a famous Russian story; it's probably too obscure for everyone except Kory, but I needed to do it.)
Tomorrow (oh wait, it's today) is Punkin Boy's birthday. I love that it falls close to Mother's Day; I did that on purpose. This weekend we've got big plans for our big 4-year-old. The Man (TM) has to work in the evening and #1 Son had to go to Hell of course, but we're going to make it fun anyway.
I've already exchanged greetings from some of my friends and relations, including this little item from a former coworker who was like a mother to me:
Tomorrow (oh wait, it's today) is Punkin Boy's birthday. I love that it falls close to Mother's Day; I did that on purpose. This weekend we've got big plans for our big 4-year-old. The Man (TM) has to work in the evening and #1 Son had to go to Hell of course, but we're going to make it fun anyway.
I've already exchanged greetings from some of my friends and relations, including this little item from a former coworker who was like a mother to me:
...And then there was this, which I happened across just as I was about to log off tonight. A little girl who was born on the same day as Punkin Boy is NOT having a good birthday. And as for her parents... my heart aches for all of them. Keep them in your prayers, OK? Thanks.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college. This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them. This is for all the step-mothers who raised another woman's child or children, and gave their time, attention, and love-- sometimes totally unappreciated! ((Sometimes??))
...
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely. This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. To put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. When you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home? Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
Friday, May 11, 2007
I Just Want to Say
I love the smell of lilacs in the morning! (And every other time of day.)
Not too fond of having migraines every day, or of having multiple periods a month.
I guess I take the good with the bad.
Not too fond of having migraines every day, or of having multiple periods a month.
I guess I take the good with the bad.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
More Goodness
Just wanted to share some more loveliness that has come our way. First, The Man (TM) got that other job at school (Web development) and was offered another one at the library. How nice to feel able to turn stuff down!
Also, that haircutting school called the other day to ask if anyone at our house wanted a free haircut this week. *waves arm in air, shouting "I do! I do!"* Totally. So today, Pirate Boy and I spent an hour getting our locks lopped. Yes, an entire hour. We have kind of a lot of hair, as every stylist who's worked on us has to remark. Oh, what a relief not to have 80 pounds of hair dragging down my back anymore!
The most wonderful thing so far this week is (fanfare, please): my lilac bushes are blooming for the first time since I planted them! Yes, they are older than Punkin Boy. Yes, they were blooming when I planted them. No, I don't know what their problem was. But they're beautiful now, and I am so going out there and cutting some tomorrow.
Oh, yes, and my kids didn't make my breakfast today. What? Yes, that is a good thing. See, they usually pour the milk and then forget to wake me up... (It must be good, I wolf it down so fast, right?) I love those little monkeys.
Also, that haircutting school called the other day to ask if anyone at our house wanted a free haircut this week. *waves arm in air, shouting "I do! I do!"* Totally. So today, Pirate Boy and I spent an hour getting our locks lopped. Yes, an entire hour. We have kind of a lot of hair, as every stylist who's worked on us has to remark. Oh, what a relief not to have 80 pounds of hair dragging down my back anymore!
The most wonderful thing so far this week is (fanfare, please): my lilac bushes are blooming for the first time since I planted them! Yes, they are older than Punkin Boy. Yes, they were blooming when I planted them. No, I don't know what their problem was. But they're beautiful now, and I am so going out there and cutting some tomorrow.
Oh, yes, and my kids didn't make my breakfast today. What? Yes, that is a good thing. See, they usually pour the milk and then forget to wake me up... (It must be good, I wolf it down so fast, right?) I love those little monkeys.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Little By Little, We're Getting There
I haven't been around much lately because The Man (TM) has been gone a lot. The good news is that he's been working. Yes, as in at a job. He can't believe his luck to be chosen as a professional A/V geek for his school. OK, it doesn't pay hugely and it's not full-time, but it's a long-term income, and that's a major thing we've been lacking for, oh, the last 19 months or so. Yay, money!
With the kids home from school the past several days, I've had my hands full, and with TM gone so much, it's been kind of a challenge to survive each day. But I'm managing, which is only attributable to the power of prayer; I couldn't do it alone. Now TM is interviewing for a Web programmer job (also for the school), which also won't pay much but will give him experience, and with graduation only a year away (we HOPE), that will be key.
OK, now here's the news I've been brimming over with: I got a contract as a freelance writer, starting immediately! They're even going to pay me for my "audition" piece. Sweet! (Such a relief-- I was beginning to think I'd never work again, after several months without a contract.)
And best news of all, we got our date: May 26 at 3 in the afternoon, we become an eternal family. Go us!
With the kids home from school the past several days, I've had my hands full, and with TM gone so much, it's been kind of a challenge to survive each day. But I'm managing, which is only attributable to the power of prayer; I couldn't do it alone. Now TM is interviewing for a Web programmer job (also for the school), which also won't pay much but will give him experience, and with graduation only a year away (we HOPE), that will be key.
OK, now here's the news I've been brimming over with: I got a contract as a freelance writer, starting immediately! They're even going to pay me for my "audition" piece. Sweet! (Such a relief-- I was beginning to think I'd never work again, after several months without a contract.)
And best news of all, we got our date: May 26 at 3 in the afternoon, we become an eternal family. Go us!
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Mysterious Ways
I just want to share with you the latest evidence I have that God knows everything and loves each of us. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering that, especially that last part. The problem is that I don't know everything, at least not ahead of time. Well, today I learned something. Let me tell you a story.
The Man (TM) and I have been trying for several months to get things together for a special, important event that we were hoping would happen this weekend. The kids have a long weekend, it's between semesters for my brothers-in-law and before finals for TM... and it's late enough in the season that the weather should have been perfect for driving through the mountains. It was just the right time to have our--well, our second wedding. For all we knew, it was.
But things kept getting in the way. People who should have been helping us kept... forgetting or something. Nobody could do this or that, and pretty soon it was just too late. We'd have to wait a few weeks. Well, it was disappointing. I cried and I fumed. It wasn't supposed to be like this. See how mature I am. Pooh.
But this morning at 6:15 when the radio alarm went off and the weather announcer said the words "avalanche danger in the mountains," I suddenly understood. And I'm so grateful that my will isn't always the one done. Oh, I have so far to go.
The Man (TM) and I have been trying for several months to get things together for a special, important event that we were hoping would happen this weekend. The kids have a long weekend, it's between semesters for my brothers-in-law and before finals for TM... and it's late enough in the season that the weather should have been perfect for driving through the mountains. It was just the right time to have our--well, our second wedding. For all we knew, it was.
But things kept getting in the way. People who should have been helping us kept... forgetting or something. Nobody could do this or that, and pretty soon it was just too late. We'd have to wait a few weeks. Well, it was disappointing. I cried and I fumed. It wasn't supposed to be like this. See how mature I am. Pooh.
But this morning at 6:15 when the radio alarm went off and the weather announcer said the words "avalanche danger in the mountains," I suddenly understood. And I'm so grateful that my will isn't always the one done. Oh, I have so far to go.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Hold That Thought
The weather here lately has reminded me of the line Jim Carrey (as The Riddler) delivers in Batman Forever to Two-Face (Tommy Lee Jones):
"Not many people are both a summer and a winter, but you pull it off nicely."
(Just as a little aside, did you recognize Drew Barrymore in that scene? Neither did I.)
Starting to lose consciousness again... No, wait, take a look at this.
"Not many people are both a summer and a winter, but you pull it off nicely."
(Just as a little aside, did you recognize Drew Barrymore in that scene? Neither did I.)
Starting to lose consciousness again... No, wait, take a look at this.
Well, At Least We're Not Broke...
Forgive me while I giggle like a drunk with nothing left to lose. I'm about tapped out on patience and endurance at the moment. This weekend I cried so much that my eyelids looked like Easter eggs and felt like they were being boiled from the inside out. And that was just the first day. The second day I got worse. Then things got bad. Hee. (hic)
Can it be Migraine Week again already? I think so. The Man (TM) has a huge project due at school in less than 24 hours, so he didn't come home last night until after 11, and it's going to happen again tonight. The kids were pretty good; I shouldn't complain. I just get tired. Tomorrow night we've got stuff going on, and Thursday night we have conflicting stuff and Friday #1 Son goes off to Hell again-- no family time this week. You might think that was the least of my worries.
On the bright side, poopy underwear doesn't seem all that bad set against that background. And my husband still loves me after all.
Can it be Migraine Week again already? I think so. The Man (TM) has a huge project due at school in less than 24 hours, so he didn't come home last night until after 11, and it's going to happen again tonight. The kids were pretty good; I shouldn't complain. I just get tired. Tomorrow night we've got stuff going on, and Thursday night we have conflicting stuff and Friday #1 Son goes off to Hell again-- no family time this week. You might think that was the least of my worries.
On the bright side, poopy underwear doesn't seem all that bad set against that background. And my husband still loves me after all.
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