Still Ain't Rich

And that means I have no brand spankin' new computer as of yet. Oh, well, woe is me ....all for tomorrow and nothing for today. But, hey, income tax refunds are just around the corner and as much as I hate if for ya Grover, you're getting me a really nice anniversary gift this year;)

Just wanted to drop in and wish everyone a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!! I love you and miss you alllll soooo much. Many rants and raves are just crying to get out these days:)

Will be back soooon.

Peace aaaallllllllllllllllllllllll.....................

So This Is What Happened

Whoooooo, it's been a while huh?

So this is what happened. My computer died on April 16th. And being as how I am not independently wealthy, not yet anyway;), I am currently saving up for a new one. Hopefully this daunting task will be completed in another month or two. Hopefully.

Meanwhile, the kids are fine, Grover is fine, I am fine and the dog is fine when the kids aren't trying to kill her.

Will be back online as soon as I possibly can, and hopefully it will be soon cuz these withdrawals are killing me!

I love each and every one of ya!!!!!!

Peace allllllllllllll................

Whose Child Is Gonna Be President?

My mother was a school teacher. That meant a lot to me when I was a kid. It meant that I had to stay one step of the game in class because with her there were no excuses. It meant that I couldn't BS my way through anything because she could see right through it. It meant that I was extremely proud of her for spending her life imparting knowledge to young minds. My mom was one of those people who understood the power of education.

Last week, Joshua's school had their SAT's. It was a very big deal of course, meaning that reminders were sent out 2 weeks in advance, along with the standard "tips" for good test performance: get plenty of rest, eat right, study, study, study...etc. And as I read these letters and talked to some of the kids in the neighborhood, it really hit home with me. What did? This did:

We are starving our children by giving them too much. We have Playstations, and XBoxes and DVDs and ipods and video games and this and that and the other. And we have the latest in technology and the best foods and the best clothes and the best entertainment and we feed this to them on a daily basis.

But what we are not giving them, what they are lacking, is: motivation, a desire for learning, a thirst for knowledge, a purpose in life, an insatiable curiousity, an endless litany of "why" and "when" and "where" and "what if". We have singlehandedly created the largest group of apathetic, self-absorbed, lazy young people that has probably ever existed. Need help with a problem? Sure, we'll either spoon feed you the answer or give you a pill that makes you feel better about not knowing the answer. Heaven forbid you actually have to work for something or that your parents let you figure it out for yourselves. That would require too much work and patience on both sides.

We have the best educational system in the world, despite the butchering it has undergone in the past 30 years, and we are turning out some of the dumbest people. I know 4th graders that don't even know who Betsy Ross is. Betsy Ross people! I know teenagers who can't name the first 5 presidents of the United States. I shudder to think what this world will be looking like when these people are running the show.

Our children are being ruined by our attempts to "give them a good life". Want to give your child a good life? Make 'em work for it. Stop handing every single thing that they want over to them. I have a 12 year old that's cutting grass this summer so he can buy his own school clothes for next year, without me having to do it. That was his idea. That on top of the mandatory summer reading list that I have for him.

Make them think. Foster their sense of curiousity and amazement with how the world works. (It's still in them somewhere, you just may have to look pretty deep to find it.) Remind them every chance you get that no matter where you live or what your circumstances are, education is the key to changing everything. Education is knowledge and knowledge is power and with that power you can change the world.

Parents, look closely at your children. They are the future. Non-parents, look closely at the children around you. They are the future. We are all role models, whether we like it or not. Let's just try to be good ones.

Peace allllll.......................

Bodily Dysfunctions

***If the subjects of diarrhea, projectile vomiting and burping causes you to get a little queasy, please read no further. Thank you for your support.***

Okay, now that that's out of the way, here we go.

Rachel, mine and Grover's best friend, moved in with us about a month ago. Win-win for me because she is borderline OCD (translated: she cleans, A LOT), win-win for Grover because she works with him in the paint company and he never has to track her down. Anyhow, she is normally a very quiet person (how she and I got to be best friends I'll never know;)). The other night, I was putting the kids to bed and had Jakob down, was working on Lukas. (Yes, I lie down with my kids until they go to sleep...it's a comfort thing...for all of us). So, I hear Rachel in her bedroom cleaning. (Her bedroom is right across the hall from the kids' room). I hear shuffling, movement and the closet door rattling (sliding doors...I hate 'em). No big deal, just a little noise. Next thing I know, I hear this big BRRRREPPP. She sounds like she has burped up a small child. I know she doesn't know I can hear all of this and for some reason it strikes me as wildly funny. But I can't laugh out loud because I'm trying to get Lukas to sleep and it will just wake him up. So, I'm stuck lalying there in the bed laughing silently, laughing so hard I am shaking the whole bed. I'm thinking "I can't wait to bust her on this in the morning."

So, I get the kids to sleep and go get in the bed with Grover. Grover very rarely dreams or makes any movement in his sleep. Once he's down, he pretty much stays that way for at least 6 hours. But this night, he's dreaming and mumbling in his sleep. He appears to be having almost a nightmare, so I lie down facing him. (he is on his back, remember this) I begin to pat him on the arm to offer some sort of subconscious relief, hoping it will ease him back down into solid sleep. It is at this point, when I am about 6 inches aways from him, facing him and he is on his back that he turns his head, in his sleep.....and burps IN MY FACE! I just got up and went to sleep on the couch. Some days you just can't win no matter what you do.

And now for the past couple of days, a 24 hour stomach virus has been running through the house. It started with Jakob (my 2 year old). We're on the back porch the other evening, enjoying the beautiful spring weather and he walks up to me like he's going to get in my lap, and then he stops and throws up...all over himself and me. Okay, I could get over that, gross as it is, but he keeps throwing up. And he won't stand still until he's done. He keeps walking around in a little circle just hurling. I tried to get him to stand still until it was over with but he just kept walking. Maybe he was trying to figure out how much square footage he could cover, I mean, now that he has covered the both of us. After a very rough night, he felt fine the next day.

Then Grover and I got it yesterday. Felt like someone was just stirring my guts with a stick. I know that's icky but I aim for reality here. Fortunately, we have 2 bathrooms, so we rode out the storm on our respective toilet seats, with a bucket in front of us, because quite frankly, one end might get the other one started on this venture. The only truly disturbing part of the whole thing was the fact that Lukas was running from bathroom to bathroom so he could see who was throwing up and imitate them. He found the whole thing quite funny, which is how I know that 3 year olds were just sent here to test our nerves.;)

Anyhow, now that I know I have disgusted more than I few of you by now, I shall take my leave and clean my bathrooms. I know this was not the most eloquent, enlightening or uplifting post today, but hey, what can you expect from someone who was staring at the underside of her toilet all night?')

Peace alllll...............

Cabbage

Once upon a time, about 20 years ago, I met a little boy named Emmanuel. For the first two years I knew him, I didn't know his real name. Everybody in the neighborhood called him Cabbage. Don't know why, still don't know. But that's the way of nicknames I guess. I found out what his real name was when he started school. My mom taught at the school he attended and simply refused (as was her way) to call him by anything other than his Christian name. To this day I think she is the only person who never called him Cabbage.

Cabbage was a very sweet little boy who was born into some pretty bad circumstances. His mother was mentally unstable and, at that time, smoked crack and hung with nameless men on a regular basis. I remember one night about 2 in the morning, I heard Cabbage outside crying and I went out to see what was going on. He was walking up and down the sidewalk looking for his momma. He was about 4 at the time. She had gone off on one of her nightly runs, so we calmed him down and took him back home (next door) and let his grandmother know what was going on. (She had been asleep when he went out of the house.) His mom was not big on making sure he went to school, or anything else, so we (me and Rachel and her sister) kind of looked out for him like that.

My mom came over to visit one day, and Cabbage, for some odd reason, fell in love with the purse she was carrying. (You know, one of the big, old-fashioned, "old lady" purses with the clasp on the top, patent leather and all) He was so fascinated by it that my mom told him that she would give him a purse for his birthday. And she did. (Because my mom was cool like that) He was about 6 and he loved that purse.

Eventually, his mom quit smoking crack and quit running the streets and settled down to try to be a decent mom to him and his siblings. She still had her mental problems but they weren't so bad that they kept her from finally realizing and doing the right thing by her kids.

It was shortly thereafter that they moved from our neighborhood. We still saw them from time to time and just a couple of years ago, his mom moved in right next door to Rachel's daughter, April. By this time, Cabbage had grown up so much, we almost didn't recognize him. But when April told me who he was, I asked him "You still got that purse?" and he just smiled and laughed. "No, but I had it for a long time." He had gone through the usual rites of passage for so many young black men in the inner city, drugs, gangs, some jail time,the whole nine. But he had come up out of all that and was keeping it together and he was still the same old Cabbage, and it was so good to see that he had turned out okay, after all the stuff he had been through.

He went by April's house today, to check up on her and see how she was doing. (She had knee surgery not too long ago.) He had his baby with him and they sat for awhile talking about the old days (like 20-somethings can actually have "old days"). He got up to leave and told April that he would see her later on, he had to take the baby back to momma and then go check on his mom. But not to worry, he'd holler back at her later. If she needed anything, just let him know.

30 minutes later, his girlfriend's ex walked up to him while he was walking down the sidewalk and shot him in the head. He died instantly.

When Tara (April's sister) called me to tell me and her mom the news, the picture that filled my mind was not of Cabbage as he looked this week, last week or even last year. The image that I have, that will not go away, is of a 6 year old boy, innocent in so many respects, that just wanted a purse for his birthday. Because he was too young to know that most boys don't carry purses and he was too young to care.

I don't see a grown man who has gone through so much. I don't see a guy who is tough, who has a child of his own, who has gone from naivete to reality over the past 20 years. I just see a little boy who couldn't go to sleep until his momma got home, who had so much love in his heart for everyone.

Peace Emmanuel. God be with you. We'll keep an eye on your mom for you.

We love you.

Peace allllll............

Just Putting a Couple of Things Out There

I am not an anal retentive snob by nature. Of course, I have those tendencies. I believe that everyone does from time to time, especially when it comes to peeves, pet or otherwise. And some days you just have enough of your irritations and frustrations and you just need to get it off of your chest. So here goes my sweet release:

1. It is NOT "aren't I?". It is "am I not?" Because I are would sound kinda weird any way you put it. Remember 4th grade contractions? Okay then. I never understood why this particular phrase ever came into vogue and why people continue to use it.

2. It is either REGARDLESS or IRRESPECTIVE. It is not, nor has it ever been IRREGARDLESS. (Sorry, my dad passed that one on to me years ago...another gift that just keeps on giving.)

3. Has anyone ever seen the show "Everybody Hates Chris"? I've watched it a few times. Anyway, the young man that plays the child Chris Rock character is a fine young actor. He was at an awards show recently and a reporter was interviewing him. She asked him what role would he really like to play in a movie. And he replied that he would like to play the role of Emmett Till. The reporter did not even know who that was. It is a shame that adults don't even remember this young man and then we expect our young people to really understand what the Civil Rights movement was all about. If you don't know this young man's story, please read it at emmetttillmurder.com. It's important and everyone should know it.

4. I am so tired of seeing people's boob jobs, rhinoplasties, tummy tucks and liposuctions. We are becoming an increasingly plasticized nation. When are we going to stop? When we all look like pod people? I don't care how big your boobs are or how big your belly is. If you're nice, we're cool. If you're a jerk, well then, you're just a jerk with bigger breasts and a smaller gut.

5. Women, please, please, please pull your daughters aside and let them know that the grinding and gyrating they see on televsion (or even walking down the street) is not appropriate behavior for a lady. And while you're at it, please reinforce in your sons that they should never expect a lady to behave that way.

6. What happened to all of the classic books that I used to read and why don't young people read them anymore? Beowulf, Dante, Sister Carrie, Silas Marner, Little Women, The Canterbury Tales, etc., etc......these were the tales of my youth and I understand that I could be considered ancient now, but still;)

7. It is not polite to interrupt, no matter how badly you may want to, unless someone's life is in imminent danger.

Okay, I'm done for now. Just for now, mind you. I'll be back later.

Have a nice day!:)

Peace allllllll..............

5.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!!!!!!! (even if you don't celebrate it and everything;)

Peace allllll..........

Catching Up

Let's see...where to begin. Last Monday, Grover and I went to the store to get a couple of sodas. The store is maybe a quarter of a mile away. We left Josh to watch the kids. This is not a new thing, as he is very trustworthy and has always done a great job with them. Well, as we are coming back, we are pulling up in front of the house and we see Josh standing out front on the walkway on the phone. As we pull into the driveway, we see that he is crying...hard. The first thing that goes through my head is that one of the kids has had an accident. Turns out that while we were gone Josh had to go to the bathroom and when he came out the front door was wide open and Lukas was gone. Josh was on the phone with 911. So, here I am trying my best to remain calm (and failing miserably) while I get on the phone with the 911 operator. I can remember my child's name, I can remember how much he weighs and how tall he is but I cannot remember for the life of me WHAT MY CHILD HAS ON. It is dark outside, it is cold, my child is missing and I can't remember what the heck I put on him to wear for the day.

So, the cops show up and tell us that they have a canine unit on the way and because of that we can't move. We can't go look for our child, we can't even walk down to the neighbors to ask if they have seen him, because we might carry his scent on us and confuse the dog. At this point, I am completely hysterical, Josh is in the house sobbing on the couch and Grover is stuck between the two of us. 12 cop cars are in the neighborhood by this time. (Where was Jakob during all of this? In the bedroom watching television, totally oblivious to all of the drama)

Right when the canine unit pulls up, the police officer who is there with us gets a call and says that they have found him. A block and a half away. These wonderful people who live in a house on that street just happened to be outside and just happened to see him running down the street. The man chased him down, caught him and called 911. So, the officer takes me in the back of a police car to go get my child. In all the commotion and the hubbub, I never even got these people's name. I did thank them, however, most tearfully and profusely. And I will be sending them a thank you card and anything else they might need to fully express my gratitude.

Needless to say, we now have brand new double key deadbolt locks on allll the doors in the house. Just in case.

And if I never say it again (and I probably won't), God bless the Huntsville City police department.

And I am buying a Polaroid camera to take pictures of my kids every morning now so I don't ever forget what they're wearing;)

Meanwhile back at the ranch, on to less "dramatical" (as Flavor Flav would put it) happenings:

1.Saw the season finale of Flavor of Love last night. Sooooo good to see that wacko psycho New York go home finally. And yes, I will be watching the reunion show in 2 weeks as well. What? You thought I only watched Masterpiece Theatre and documentaries? Please. There's something to be said for good old-fashioned brain rot every once in a while. Keeps you centered and keeps you from getting snobbish.

2. I will be planting a garden this year, if I can get this yard together in time. The previous tenants left a big ole mess out here, sticks and all sorts of junk that I have been cleaning up for a week.

3. I LOVE HAVING A BACK YARD!!!

So, now I am going to clean said back yard, after I check all the locks.

Peace alllll.........

HBD to BB

Happy Birthday to you Briana Grace Brown. You would have been 11 years old today and if no one else remembers, I do. I miss you. Loving you always.
Tell Mom I said hi.

Tweet Tweet & Cluck Cluck

Let me tell ya something: there are days when I believe this whole SAHM wife and mother thing is for the birds! Don't get me wrong, I love spending the extra time with my kids, wouldn't give it up for the world. But there is the one issue of .......when exactly does my workday end???

See, when Grover gets home he considers his workday to be done. In other words, he really doesn't feel that he should be doing anything in the house because that's "my" job. Okay, let's break it down then. You work 8-12 hours a day, from 7 a.m. to anywhere from 5 to 7 p.m. Then you come home and that's it. I, on the other hand work from about 6 a.m. until, oh let's see, about midnight, when I normally go to bed. What? You thought I just went over the house once and then chilled for the majority of the day? Oh, no baby puppy...no, no, no.

I get up at 6 when the kids get up, then I wake you up, then I prepare breakfast for the kids since you just eat coffee in the morning. Then, once you are gone to work, I clean up breakfast dishes and clean up your mess in the bathroom.

Then I begin the process of housecleaning. The reason I call it a process is because I have to break it up into sections because between those sections, I am picking up after children, wiping marker off of the walls, taking care of whines and bumps and bruises and hurt feelings and singing their favorite song just one more time. And in between all of that I am doing laundry and then in between THAT I am on the phone drumming up painting business.

Not to mention preparing lunch, taking something out for dinner, helping Joshua with his homework, looking marvelous, cleaning up the kitchen for the 3rd time, making sure the kids get in the tub, making sure they have clothes ready for the next day, checking to make sure there are no appointments I'm going to miss and putting the kids in bed. Then, once the kids are in bed, there is still laundry to be finished, floors to be mopped, etc, etc., and so on and so on. And if I say something about being tired, you have the audacity to look at me and say "tired from what?"

Silly, silly man........

cluck, cluck ......

I'm so glad I love these guys;) Because next year, everybody does their own laundry!

Peace alllllll.............

Croup? We Don't Need No Stinking Croup!

Okay, so this is what happened. We were in the middle of moving but enough so into the new place that we could spend the night. So this is our first night in the new house, right? Well, I am an extraordinarily light sleeper. Let's face it, a mouse farting next door will wake me up. I am also a premature waker. I wake up several times during the night for no reason, so I make good use of these moments to check the doors and windows and such and to check on the kids. (If you can't sleep, may as well do something.)

So, I'm dozing about 4 a.m. and a strange noise wakes me up. It's a raspy, throaty sound....and it's coming from Jakob. I swear it sounded like he had something stuck in his throat and he was struggling to breathe. Scared the everliving daylights out of me. I got him up, checked his throat, woke Grover up and got him to call an ambulance all within 5 seconds. Grover went with him to the hospital (I couldn't go because Lukas and Joshua were still asleep.) So I am stuck at the house, not knowing what is going on and bawling my eyes out, terrified.

Turns out that Jakob has/had croup.....also known as an inflammation of the windpipe right below the vocal cords. It appears as a bad cold in grown people and is normally not a problem at that time but with little ones it can be dangerous. So after TWO breathing treatments and steroids, the swelling went down and they let him come home. The doctor did say that it was a good thing that I heard him because with the swelling that was going on, he could have been in serious trouble if it had waited any longer. So I guess I'll be joining the insomnia club of mothers now;). It's been a couple of days and I'm sleeping lighter than ever. The doc said that most kids outgrow the probelm by age 5. Just 3 more years...whoo hoo! But he seems to be fine now. Hopefully it will never happen again...hopefully.

Other than that, and the exercise bike breaking and the phone company giving me grief about transferring my number and the 20000 boxes that I have stacked up, everything is going well though.

Okay, I'm putting on the Ben-Gay now. ( I am really tooooo old for all of this moving stuff). And as soon as I can find a clear path from the bedroom to the kitchen to the bathroom I'll be happy. Because I'm really hungry. And I reallllly need to pee:)

Peace alllll..........

Volunteers Welcome

Good news: we finally, finally, finally got the house we have been wanting so we are finally out of this crackerbox apartment!

Bad news: we have to pack all of our stuff and actually move it. Who knew that we could have accumulated sooooo much stuff over just 3 years? And since neither one of us really trust moving companies (and since it is only across town), we're doing it all ourselves. Whoo hoo!! What fun.

But it is a small price to pay for actually having a house with a yard so that the kids can actually just go outside to play versus having to pack up a whole bunch of stuff and schlepp them to the playground.

Everything is being transferred tomorrow so we are doing the actual physical moving between tonight and tomorrow evening. All packing and moving volunteers are welcome.:)

So, now let me get back to totin' that barge and liftin' that bale.

Peace alllllll.............

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!!

And a word to the ladies please: this lovely and most romantic of days is not for your pleasure only ya know. Remember the man (or men) in your life today. Let 'em know you love 'em!

Peace allllll.............

Because This Is What I Call A Normal Day

I had a long day yesterday. Had to go to another city with Grover to pick up some cylinders for his job. A hundred mile drive for literally 30 seconds of work. But hey, he's getting paid for it.

After that, we had to go to Wal-Mart. Now, I normally hate going to Wal-Mart and so I wait until the absolute last minute. (Yeah, I know how to pile on the stress;)) Madding crowds, crazy people, men trying to find that last minute Valentine's day something. So I'm trying to buy my little groceries and find some stuff for Joshua to take to his Valentine's Day party at school. Oh, and did I mention it was snowing at the time? And did I mention that people in Huntsville lose their everloving minds every time they see a snowflake? Come on people, this ain't Minnesota.....we're not Ma and Pa Ingalls. A blizzard AIN'T a comin'! So, here I am in the middle of bedlam, trying to remain calm and peaceful and centered and trying not to hit this redneck man who just will NOT get out of the middle of the aisle while he's on his cell phone.

Okay then......one hour and $260 worth of groceries later, we are finally on the way home. I'm relaxing because thank goodness THAT'S over with and I'm enjoying the snowfall and all is good. The day can only get better, right? Maybe in your world.

So we get home and I recruit Grover and Joshua for unloading duty. They unload and bring alllllll those groceries up the stairs and I will unpack and put everything away. Well, they are a little slower unloading than I am unpacking and so while they are outside I decide to sit on the couch and check out the weather. So I sit.

And immediately jump back up hollering. It feels like I have just sat on a lit cigarette, a branding iron, a popped spring. I reach behind me to see what is going on and I have a meat thermometer, yes that's right a meat thermometer, sticking out of my left buttock. (And I have been looking for said meat thermometer for 3 days now....well, I found it.) Because I couldn't reach around and pull the thing out myself without causing further damage, I stuck my head out of the door and ever-so-sweetly called Grover and told him I had "a little problem" and could he hurry upstairs. He did and that's when the freak out began. "What the h***? What happened?" What, you mean you can't tell what happened just by looking? Anyway, to make a long story short, he pulled it out and was nice enough to put some antibiotic ointment on it. The thermometer was about half way in by the way. And as he is reaching into the medicine cabinet while I am bent over the sink, he proceeds to pop me in the head with the door to the medicine cabinet. And my Lukas, with his way with words comes around, looks at my butt and says "Ow, mommy." (Must have gotten the talent for being pithy from me;))

So today, I am sitting, albeit tilted slightly to the right and with a whole lotta soreness. I would complain about it but, see......it's really not so unusual for me to hurt myself. I don't consider it strange at all that I am the only person I know who has ever impaled themselves with a meat thermometer. At least I found it. And at least I found it before the kids did (even though they're the ones that probably put it there;))

Anyway, I'm going to go put some ice on my back cheek now. I'll just be checking for sharp objects when I do.

Peace allllll..............

P.S. My temperature you might ask? A perfect 98.6:)

Piercings, Puberty and Picking Your Battles

My baby, my oldest baby that is, will be 13 in September. So, he is almost 12 and a half, trying to go on 18. I don't know if this happened overnight, or if it happened so gradually that I just didn't see it coming, but here it is......puberty in all of its glorious angst and obstinancy. He considers a lot of our conversations these days as "negotiations". I consider them as more proof that children going through puberty are certifiably insane. He used to want to go outside and play with his friends or stay up past his bedtime. Simple enough. Now his wants (or his "needs" as he calls them) are becoming a little more difficult to give a quick yes or no to.

Need number 1: he must, just must, have his ears pierced. Now, I am a big believer in self-expression and I really don't have a problem with piercing per se, especially since it's just his ears, not his nose or his lip or anything. However, he is just 12. I think I'll eventually give him the green light on this one but I don't know. He is just 12......still young enough to be my baby ya know. But it's not a tattoo at least. (We'll have that fight in a few years I think;))

Need number 2: he must, just must have a cell phone. After all, ALL of his friends have one (yeah, right). When he's old enough to get a job and buy a cell phone then he can have one. Until then, just do what I used to when I was a kid. Get two tin cans and a piece of string.

Need number 3: could we please, please, PLEASE let him watch some of the more mature movies on televison? Translate that into a whole lot more violence and a couple of naked (or half naked) ladies. All of his friends are watching them! (yeah, right) Ummmmmm.........NO. You have the rest of your life after you are 18 to see women in various stages of undress. And believe me, see one....yeah, you've pretty much seen them all. Sorry guy, the block stays put....no blood, no booty.....not in my house.

I think it's going to be a realllllly long 5 and a half years around here.

Peace allll...........

Weight A Minute

You know, one of my New Year's resolutions was to lose a few pounds. Not many, just a few of the curves that I have are becoming, shall we say, a little toooo curvy for my taste. So, with that in mind I have been following (albeit verrrrry loosely) a random exercise program. Random, as in .....if I remember to do it, it gets done. If not, okay...so I'm not the most dedicated exercise type person there is. Housecleaning counts as exercise;). Sure it does.

Anyhow, I have one of those "get in great shape in 30 days" videos. This is called "8 Minute Abs". The hook is that you only have to do these exercises for 8 minutes a day, every day. Today is the first day that I did them. It started off okay. The kids were in their room playing and I thought "Surely I can steal 8 minutes to do this." Wrrrrroooooonnnngggggg!!!!!! The minute I started with the exercises, here comes Lukas, standing over me laughing like "Mommy fell down and she can't get up". Then Jakob runs over and decides that mommy's stomach would make a nice trampoline (thanks Fishy!). Then Foxy the dog decides that this is the perfect time to show her boundless affection for me by licking me in my face. (I haaaate it when a dog licks me in my face). Now, due to all of the "help" I was receiving, I could only make it through about 5 minutes of the 8 minute workout but I think, considering the extra weight I was carrying, I should get credit for the last 3 minutes.

Speaking of weight, took the boys for checkups yesterday. Lukas is 48 pounds and stands a whopping 3 feet and 9 inches tall. Jakob is 40 pounds and he is 3 feet and 4 inches tall. They are 3 and 2 years old. They are as big as most 5 and 6 year olds. I will hereby start saving my grocery receipts so that when they are drafted into the NFL or the NBA, they can pay me back for all of that food.....after they buy me the house of course;).

We will not talk about how much I weigh. Needless to say, the scale started screaming when I stepped on it. But, with me and the boys combined, poor Grover......he doesn't stand a chance;)

And now I'm off for my 8 hour workout. It's called "cleaning the house". Hmmmmm....funny, no one ever wants to help out with that one:)

Peace allllll............

Random Frustration All Over the Place

My mom used to love the phrase "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." I have tried for the most part to uphold that; however, it has come to my attention that I have been saying less and less because of this and sometimes you just have to say something maybe not so nice in the nicest way you can. Yeah, I know that I'm not making sense but that's okay too.

One of my pet peeves is people who are grouches when they first wake up in the morning (or whenever). You know the ones, they wake up barking at everyone and everything, ticked off because they have to be awake and part of the functioning world. I'm not talking about people who don't say anything until they get that first cup of coffee (or whatever). Those are okay. I'm talking about the ones that vent their spleen until they are leaving the house and then have the audacity to say "I love you" before they leave. Grow up already!

What is this fascination/addiction that people have with plastic surgery? Don't like something? Well, snip it, clip it, suck it out or pump it up. I'm all for looking the best you can but I think that, barring an actual physical deformity, you should attempt to do it with what you have. Botox, collagen injections, cheek lifts (both sets).....what ever happened to beauty on the inside being so much better than "beauty" on the outside. Because I have seen a lot of these people and if this current trend continues we will be developing a whole new breed of people-like beings who look more like aliens than real humans Give me my wrinkles, give me my graying hairs.....I have earned every single one of them. Just don't give me too many;)

To the parents who are involved in the class action suit against Nickleodeon and the cereal companies for advertising and marketing sugary cereals and snacks to children under the age of 8: GET OVER IT! They have done it for years. Remember Tony the Tiger, Toucan Sam, the Sugar Smacks frog, the Honeycomb bear? Okay then. The only difference between then and now is this: my parents told me what they were buying for me to eat. See, they had the jobs and made the money so they could do that. I didn't realize that 4 year olds were running households and making the financial decisions these days. If you don't want your small children to eat sugary cereals and snacks, don't buy them and put them in your house! Buy something else, like........oh, I don't know.....FRUIT......or.......ummmmm......VEGETABLES. You know, the red and green and yellow stuff they sell in the store. And if your kids don't want to eat it, then let 'em go hungry. Beleive me, they won't starve to death before they decide an apple or some celery is better than nothing. You are the parents, they are the children. That's why most of us are taller see? So people can tell the difference.

Meanwhile back at the ranch.....it's good to be back. Was off on sabbatical for a little while. Had some pressure to get rid of, some junk to take care of. You know that whole recentering, refocusing thing that we all need to do from time to time.

Hey, it's great to be back home again:)

Peace alllll...........

I Don't Get It

I'm not the smartest person in the world. I know, I know....no one would have believed that if I hadn't said something. I mean, I can understand the usual stuff, like how to balance a checkbook, how to program a VCR (even though they are almost obsolete now), and how to parallel park. But life isn't full of the usual stuff. It's full of the quirky and kind of left of center things that I can't seem to wrap my brain around. For instance:

Why did my 3 year old come into the living room today on all fours with the dog's leash draped over his shoulders? And then proceeded to scratch at the front door?

Why do they call Lifetime "television for women" when my husband (and a lot of other guys I know) watch it all the time? (even though they would gnaw off their own arm rather than admit to it)

Why do my kids never want to eat what I give them but they will eat what I'm eating (even though it's the exact same thing)?

Why does my husband get all bent out of shape for days over a letter from the IRS when a simple 20 minute phone call (made by me of course) took care of the situation?

Why does my husband wait until I am in the throes of PMS to be particularly irritating? I swear it's not me....really, it's not.

Why are men harder to understand the older I get?

Why will the kids eat all of the ketchup on their plates and none of the hot dogs?

Why do the kids and the dog follow me into the bathroom and stare at me while I am....ahem....taking care of things? Can't a person pee in private around here!?

Speaking of which, the kids and the dog are asleep right now, so let me go take care of something. (Watch 'em wake up;))

Peace allll.............

Peace and Privacy

I have had my dealings with the local news. In 1997, when our home burned down and Briana died and in 2001 when Rachel's son was murdered, it was considered "newsworthy" by our city newspaper and by the news stations. And so in both instances they reported the story and hung around for a little longer than I thought absolutely necessary trying to wring every last ounce of grief that we had out of us for public consumption. It got to the point that we did not even want to leave the house for a couple of weeks for fear of someone asking us "how are you feeling?" with a camera in our face. Some things need to be dealt with in private.

As I read the reports about the miners in West Virginia, my heart goes out to them. I refuse to watch the coverage on the television because I think that most of it is nothing more than an attempt to sensationalize this as much as possible. If I were to see these people go from exhiliration to anguish one more time, I think I may have to wring a newscaster's neck. Some things need to be dealt with in private.

I understand the need for news. I understand that people need to know what is going on in this country and in this world. I understand that most people have an insatiable curiousity about other people's lives. That is all perfectly normal. However, when it comes to a situation as tragic as this one, I think that these people who have suffered such a horrible loss should be left alone for a while. They need a moment to deal with what has happened within themselves before they are expected to deal with it in front of the entire nation. This is not a puppet show....this is real life, real tragedy, real grief. These are real people, not actors in some sort of twisted reality show. Some things need to be dealt with in private.

The families of these miners have my fervent prayers. But CNN, Fox News, etc., etc. will not have my support as long as they continue to engage in this type of yellow journalism. Please, guys, take it off the loop and give these people the peace and privacy that they are desperately in need of.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Peace alllll..........

New Year, New Day

Happy New Year to all and I hope everyone made it through their New Year's Eve festivities with minimum damage.

I was going to create a list of resolutions for myself for this new year but then I thought better of it. Resolutions are not things that one necessarily WANTS to do but rather they are things that they feel compelled to do in the quest towards becoming a better person. Losing ten pounds or learning a new language is not going to make a difference in who or what I am. Well, then what will? I'm not really sure...but I have made a list of things that I think will help me enjoy life more, some things that I have done many times, some I have never done.....ever. These are not resolutions, but plans.

This year I plan to:

catch fireflies in a jar
make a daisy chain
pitch a tent in my backyard and camp out with my kids overnight
go fishing
go kite flying
lie face down in the new grass of spring and not get up until I know that the scent of new life will stay with me forever

go wading and catch tadpoles or minnows or whichever I can catch
take my kids to the beach for the first time
go hiking in the woods

bake more cookies
go outside and play
build a snowman
make snow angels
make cloud pictures

walk in the rain (without worrying about catching a cold;))
jump in leaf piles
build a tree house

enjoy more sunrises and sunsets
sleep better
look at the stars
laugh more

Will all of these intentions make the world a better place? Probably not. But hopefully getting back to the simpler things will work towards making me a better person. And I think that's where it starts.

Happy New Year!

Peace alllllll................