Seriously. My two year anniversary happened yesterday. I almost forgot it until while sitting in the doctor's office and he tells me my mammogram came out clear. I happened to see the fiberous tissue comment, but oh well if it comes back again, I'll just rock a bald head like there's no tomorrow.
One encouraging thing: At the doctor's office I met a daughter/mom team both of whom are surviving cancer. The mom is 93, and I have to tell you she was a beautiful, mindfully intact 93 YO. Both of them battled different forms of cancer over the years but they were both still here and kicking.
As you can tell I'm not feeling fear. I'm cautious but not fearful. This is a far cry from what I felt a months ago. It could be the crocus blooming and daffodils and tulips coming up, but I don't know. Hell, it could be the birds singing every morning.
Whatever the reason, I'm grateful for these past 2 years.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Thursday, March 06, 2008
At the risk of my boss reading this....
I'm lacking internet access at the moment, but that will be remedied soon. Bear with me.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Goals sometimes take longer to realize
So PA is out yet again after a long stint of insanity that had been building my stress levels up. Work, school, kids, and insane ex living in my house have REALLY blown my blood pressure through the roof. My doctor finally prescribed me a muscle relaxer, but I couldn't get it and tell PA because then I'd never see it again. I was told by my doctor that I have arthritis. Do I need any more medical issues? I think not, but there you go.
So I've had now about 36 hours of no roommate. I've been wondering about the financial aspect of this, but hey protecting my kids' and my safety is more important at the moment. School is over for awhile. I'm not sure when I'll get go back, but like I said safety is WAY MORE IMPORTANT.
I've been bemoaning my luck physical, emotional, and financial, but then I think of other folk who've been in similar situations as mine, and I feel a little comforted. I'm not alone on the misery front. Cancer screws a person financially. I'm not the only one. Addicted exes screw people financially. I'm not alone on that one either. Raise a glass all ye who have felt that one. Emotionally this stings a little, but not as much as what could be if I allowed PA stay here. That goes for physical too. Too many people have felt the insanity that others bring to a situation, and I finally have others who have actually seen with their eyes the incoherence and just plain craziness that he is capable of.
I had to explain the unpredictable behavior patterns of PA to my father during the Confrontation. I had to warn my mother with a very stern voice and a dark look on my face and warning that I will not call the cops until they are out of the house because of the risk factor. That silly bumbling old lady finally figured that out and swooped them up to take them somewhere. The cops were seriously annoyed with his behavior.
I finally had folk see what he was like, and you know the next day after he was bailed out by friends he came to get his stuff and told ME that I could have defused the situation better. I thought I did a damn good job since he was the fused bomb in the room.
So now to school and my after cancer goals...it will have to wait. I live in a fabulous house on a fabulous street. My kids go to a great school and are making friends. For their emotional sake we are not going anywhere. Big Girl Pants will be pulled on, and I will make this shit happen. But it will take a little longer than expected.
So I've had now about 36 hours of no roommate. I've been wondering about the financial aspect of this, but hey protecting my kids' and my safety is more important at the moment. School is over for awhile. I'm not sure when I'll get go back, but like I said safety is WAY MORE IMPORTANT.
I've been bemoaning my luck physical, emotional, and financial, but then I think of other folk who've been in similar situations as mine, and I feel a little comforted. I'm not alone on the misery front. Cancer screws a person financially. I'm not the only one. Addicted exes screw people financially. I'm not alone on that one either. Raise a glass all ye who have felt that one. Emotionally this stings a little, but not as much as what could be if I allowed PA stay here. That goes for physical too. Too many people have felt the insanity that others bring to a situation, and I finally have others who have actually seen with their eyes the incoherence and just plain craziness that he is capable of.
I had to explain the unpredictable behavior patterns of PA to my father during the Confrontation. I had to warn my mother with a very stern voice and a dark look on my face and warning that I will not call the cops until they are out of the house because of the risk factor. That silly bumbling old lady finally figured that out and swooped them up to take them somewhere. The cops were seriously annoyed with his behavior.
I finally had folk see what he was like, and you know the next day after he was bailed out by friends he came to get his stuff and told ME that I could have defused the situation better. I thought I did a damn good job since he was the fused bomb in the room.
So now to school and my after cancer goals...it will have to wait. I live in a fabulous house on a fabulous street. My kids go to a great school and are making friends. For their emotional sake we are not going anywhere. Big Girl Pants will be pulled on, and I will make this shit happen. But it will take a little longer than expected.
Friday, December 07, 2007
MY DAD KICKED MY EX'S ASS
We're all ok. PA is in jail.
My 66 YO dad kicked his crack smokin', piss drunk, lazy, worthless ass!
Pass me a beer. I feel like celebrating!
My 66 YO dad kicked his crack smokin', piss drunk, lazy, worthless ass!
Pass me a beer. I feel like celebrating!
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Sad News Comes When Least Expected
I had a good weekend, not the best, not the worst. It was ok. It ended great with Goddess Bodice Ripper's wedding party. I got a notice from my plastic surgeon to set up my one year follow up. THAT is a Good Thing. I got the piano inside. My house is clean, and two of my three christmas trees are up and ready. Yes, I'm a closet Ms. Claus.
My calm happiness was shattered though by a well meaning friend. A mutual friend, my Inspiration, passed away this past Thanksgiving weekend. I will miss her. She was beautiful inside and out. Not to mention she was a fighter (in her own way). The thing about her is that her cancer was less "dangerous" or "concerning" than mine, but her mind set was so much more positive and cheerful, as cheerful as a person whose doctor's advise was so totally and completely unreversably wrong. She however kept people smiling and helped people (myself included) to learn how to cope, relax, and keep going.
I cried, of course, but the tears held more than just mourning for a beautiful friend I won't ever see again. They held fear and anger.
Yes, I'm angry. I get angry EVERY time I look at those stupid pink ribbon things. Of course I know what's on my car. I get angry that people younger than me get this fucked up shit, and I'm TOTALLY grumpy that I got it. I am PISSED that she just died from what was originally stage 1 cancer. And of course I fear for my life. Don't tell me not to. You'll just add fuel to an already out of control fire. A person's cancer is not something to trivialize.
I have a new reason to be thankful and to be cautious. If I seem even more pissy than before, I have good reason. If I seem even more jumpy or out of sorts or overly introverted, I have a good reason. I'll fight it when it becomes a problem, but until then I need to process this. I'm just glad I met her when I did, and I'm glad she's not hurting anymore.
Cheers, Penny.
My calm happiness was shattered though by a well meaning friend. A mutual friend, my Inspiration, passed away this past Thanksgiving weekend. I will miss her. She was beautiful inside and out. Not to mention she was a fighter (in her own way). The thing about her is that her cancer was less "dangerous" or "concerning" than mine, but her mind set was so much more positive and cheerful, as cheerful as a person whose doctor's advise was so totally and completely unreversably wrong. She however kept people smiling and helped people (myself included) to learn how to cope, relax, and keep going.
I cried, of course, but the tears held more than just mourning for a beautiful friend I won't ever see again. They held fear and anger.
Yes, I'm angry. I get angry EVERY time I look at those stupid pink ribbon things. Of course I know what's on my car. I get angry that people younger than me get this fucked up shit, and I'm TOTALLY grumpy that I got it. I am PISSED that she just died from what was originally stage 1 cancer. And of course I fear for my life. Don't tell me not to. You'll just add fuel to an already out of control fire. A person's cancer is not something to trivialize.
I have a new reason to be thankful and to be cautious. If I seem even more pissy than before, I have good reason. If I seem even more jumpy or out of sorts or overly introverted, I have a good reason. I'll fight it when it becomes a problem, but until then I need to process this. I'm just glad I met her when I did, and I'm glad she's not hurting anymore.
Cheers, Penny.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Circus Peanuts
As a child I never wanted to run away. That concept just wasn't in me. I'd hear of kids who wanted to run away to join the circus, and I'd think "why?". I thought that until today. Today. November... whatever the day is today. I thought, "I want to run away and join the circus." For bleepin' sakes, I'm 33. Whatever. I feel it strong today, but I might just be hormonal.
I would do it too (if I drank a fifth of vodka and a bottle of tequila and smoked a joint the size of a baby's arm), BUT it would have to be with the delectable Mexican troupe that I saw today. No other circus troupe would suffice. No hairy man-dog trapeze act for me. No no. I want to travel with the long hair, adonis formed, tan skinned lad I saw twirling high about the big top without his shirt on and shiny black skin tight pants. Oh yes. Momma was happy to go to the circus after she saw that fella. Oh believe me. I noticed this guy working as a fully clothed hand WAY before I got to see his EXTREMELY well formed and VERY well controlled body twirling above my head. I clapped at seeing his nigh near nekked body doing nothing yet besides standing there.
I think circuses are getting it right these days. Well sort of. They rely less on silly animal acts which I abhor. Granted they still had tigers, bears, and elephants in which my kids kept telling me that they really liked doing what they were doing. Didn't I see them smiling and singing all of the words to the music? hunh? My Pinkie actually said that to me? Well, I did think Dr. Seuss logic was perfectly cromulent (don't ask if your not a Simpson's fan). So the apple must not have fell to hard from the tree. Anyway it seemed like the Babygirl was trying to rationalize animals being trained to humiliate themselves for her amusement. Bless her pea-pickin' heart. She has a little of me in her!
Back to the nature of modern circuses. They're getting sexy. I guess they're competing with cirque du soleil, and you know what? You'll not hear me complain. Not one little bit.
It was a funny trip. I went with my kids and my neighbor's grandson, whom I've mentioned before. I didn't want to go. I feel like going to the circus is on par with going to a Hannah Montana show. Bless you, Rikki, for being brave enough to take your niblet. Anyhoo, At ten in the morning I bought three children cotton candy and light sword/scepter thingys. I swear I need to have my head examined. I wouldn't let the kiddos eat the candy until the show was going to start, and finally after much whiny and gnashing of teeth, I allowed them their portion of the $4 bag of tooth decay.
The Urghboy ate his portion with such relish that he kept having large portions of the blue stuff sticking straight out from his face thus coloring his face for the rest of the day. He should have been in a movie, it was so silly looking.
Pinkie (ahem) discovered something with the help of her light sword/scepter thingy. She was having too much fun with it. I had to take it away. We were in public for bleeping sake. That's all I'll say about that.
Zilla, I'm glad to say is still not at that stage yet where he feels he's too old for such nonsense. He still gets excited over seeing animals and clowns, and I can still hold his hand while walking down the street and kiss him on the forehead while in public. You know I'm going to treasure these last bits of his 5-9 year old stage. I'll miss it when it's gone.
Anyhoo, I had my fill of good old fashoined family fun/sexy Mexican circus action. I guess there's one good thing about catholics. They sure don't like to ignore their sexualities. They can blend their family times with their good times. We gringos should take note.
I would do it too (if I drank a fifth of vodka and a bottle of tequila and smoked a joint the size of a baby's arm), BUT it would have to be with the delectable Mexican troupe that I saw today. No other circus troupe would suffice. No hairy man-dog trapeze act for me. No no. I want to travel with the long hair, adonis formed, tan skinned lad I saw twirling high about the big top without his shirt on and shiny black skin tight pants. Oh yes. Momma was happy to go to the circus after she saw that fella. Oh believe me. I noticed this guy working as a fully clothed hand WAY before I got to see his EXTREMELY well formed and VERY well controlled body twirling above my head. I clapped at seeing his nigh near nekked body doing nothing yet besides standing there.
I think circuses are getting it right these days. Well sort of. They rely less on silly animal acts which I abhor. Granted they still had tigers, bears, and elephants in which my kids kept telling me that they really liked doing what they were doing. Didn't I see them smiling and singing all of the words to the music? hunh? My Pinkie actually said that to me? Well, I did think Dr. Seuss logic was perfectly cromulent (don't ask if your not a Simpson's fan). So the apple must not have fell to hard from the tree. Anyway it seemed like the Babygirl was trying to rationalize animals being trained to humiliate themselves for her amusement. Bless her pea-pickin' heart. She has a little of me in her!
Back to the nature of modern circuses. They're getting sexy. I guess they're competing with cirque du soleil, and you know what? You'll not hear me complain. Not one little bit.
It was a funny trip. I went with my kids and my neighbor's grandson, whom I've mentioned before. I didn't want to go. I feel like going to the circus is on par with going to a Hannah Montana show. Bless you, Rikki, for being brave enough to take your niblet. Anyhoo, At ten in the morning I bought three children cotton candy and light sword/scepter thingys. I swear I need to have my head examined. I wouldn't let the kiddos eat the candy until the show was going to start, and finally after much whiny and gnashing of teeth, I allowed them their portion of the $4 bag of tooth decay.
The Urghboy ate his portion with such relish that he kept having large portions of the blue stuff sticking straight out from his face thus coloring his face for the rest of the day. He should have been in a movie, it was so silly looking.
Pinkie (ahem) discovered something with the help of her light sword/scepter thingy. She was having too much fun with it. I had to take it away. We were in public for bleeping sake. That's all I'll say about that.
Zilla, I'm glad to say is still not at that stage yet where he feels he's too old for such nonsense. He still gets excited over seeing animals and clowns, and I can still hold his hand while walking down the street and kiss him on the forehead while in public. You know I'm going to treasure these last bits of his 5-9 year old stage. I'll miss it when it's gone.
Anyhoo, I had my fill of good old fashoined family fun/sexy Mexican circus action. I guess there's one good thing about catholics. They sure don't like to ignore their sexualities. They can blend their family times with their good times. We gringos should take note.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Oops. She did it again.
No, this isn't some Britney blog, but it is about a female. My dog in fact. And I'm still questioning my love for her when I think about it.
You see, Chika has a fondness for things that are harmful to her. She reminds me of so many other characters in my life. Ahhh human... I mean, sentient nature.
A few weeks ago a dear friend gave me some dark, dark chocolate. My favorite kind. The kind that makes my toes curl. You get the idea of where this going don't you? I was sleeping peacefully ( as peacefully as I can) when I heard clickety-clickety of little claws over my hardwood floors. I also heard a couple of things fall over. After a few seconds I realized all was not right with the world, and I jumped from my bed, ran to my school bag, and looked at it. The little bitch had squeezed her head in and wiggled out the dark, dark bar of sweet sinfulness and completely devoured it on my son's bed (she knew I'd kill her if I caught her mid-munching).
SO all night and into the next, my Chi zoomed about the house faster than any speed that a paranoid schizoiphrenic methhead could possibly attain. She proceeded to do hundreds and hundreds of laps ON MY BED throughout the night, jumping on both me and the Girl. She'd stop every now and then to squint her eyes at me and wave a paw in the air like she just don't care.
Saying "No, Chika!" didn't work. It just made her bounce and lick my face more. She was so shaky that everyother lap she'd fall off the bed and take 5 or 6 tries to get back on. The whole time time I kept growling, "git!" at her. That didn't work either, but I've noticed folks addicted speed tend to hear only what they want. Ok. MOST people tend to hear.....
Ah, yes. I'm so glad to own a dog. She's had issues before with chocolate. If you remember the chemo chocolate and the Godiva chocolate incidents of 2006. At one point she had a popcorn experience, and she has just never gone back to it, but for some reason, chocolate is a taste she just can't give up. I wonder if they have chocolate anonymous support groups for masochistic dogs and they're tired frazzled owners.
If you hear of any let me know.
You see, Chika has a fondness for things that are harmful to her. She reminds me of so many other characters in my life. Ahhh human... I mean, sentient nature.
A few weeks ago a dear friend gave me some dark, dark chocolate. My favorite kind. The kind that makes my toes curl. You get the idea of where this going don't you? I was sleeping peacefully ( as peacefully as I can) when I heard clickety-clickety of little claws over my hardwood floors. I also heard a couple of things fall over. After a few seconds I realized all was not right with the world, and I jumped from my bed, ran to my school bag, and looked at it. The little bitch had squeezed her head in and wiggled out the dark, dark bar of sweet sinfulness and completely devoured it on my son's bed (she knew I'd kill her if I caught her mid-munching).
SO all night and into the next, my Chi zoomed about the house faster than any speed that a paranoid schizoiphrenic methhead could possibly attain. She proceeded to do hundreds and hundreds of laps ON MY BED throughout the night, jumping on both me and the Girl. She'd stop every now and then to squint her eyes at me and wave a paw in the air like she just don't care.
Saying "No, Chika!" didn't work. It just made her bounce and lick my face more. She was so shaky that everyother lap she'd fall off the bed and take 5 or 6 tries to get back on. The whole time time I kept growling, "git!" at her. That didn't work either, but I've noticed folks addicted speed tend to hear only what they want. Ok. MOST people tend to hear.....
Ah, yes. I'm so glad to own a dog. She's had issues before with chocolate. If you remember the chemo chocolate and the Godiva chocolate incidents of 2006. At one point she had a popcorn experience, and she has just never gone back to it, but for some reason, chocolate is a taste she just can't give up. I wonder if they have chocolate anonymous support groups for masochistic dogs and they're tired frazzled owners.
If you hear of any let me know.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
It's the MOST wonderful time of the yeeaarr......
I need to do this more often! I get so excited for this project every year, and there's no wonder why. I love the gooieness and the mess. I adore toasted seeds with garlic salt. I love making my kids feel warm and tingly inside. I love feeling that way too.
This year is a first in a long time for us. We have a pumpkin for PA. His is the crazy looking one in the lower left. PA's never been around for pumpkin carving (still hasn't), but this year will be a first since Pinkie was a baby that he'll be around for trick or treating. I wonder how he'll handle the crowd, the noise, and the candy frenzy.
I always drink a bunch of coffee before we leave, so I can keep up with the little Zippy Zingers. After that just so I can go to sleep, I drink a few beers. My favorite is stopping at Freestate. Last year I ended up at Bertha's before the long trek back into JOCOland. This year I can just walk across the street. Yay! No driving long distances! At least for trick or treating.
The line up for the squash goes like this:
Pinkie, Zilla
PA, Enarda
I think they're all quite fitting, don't you?
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Pinkie can dance!
Boys and Girls Club had a talent show last Thursday. I'm not big on talent shows especially if they feature other people's children, but PA, Zilla, and myself all went smiling to see the Babygirl strut her stuff on stage.
We sat through many many urban dance routines that had me and PA looking nervously at each other while little 4th graders did these wierd pelvic thrust moves. Hmm...The Girl is not hanging with those cats. I did feel sorry for one school who felt every frikking child needed to be in it and the music needed to be preschool friendly. Wow. That's what they were called. But seriously wow. Either the songs were a little risque or sickeningly childish. Nothing in between. Not really.
Ok. So...after an evening of Rap/Hip hop pounding in our ears we finally got to our Babygirl's routine. Good. Great. Let's get it on! She got out there and they kids lined up with a lane down the middle for someone to dance through. One kid went. Then there was a lull in the action on stage. So Pinkie ran to the middle and flipped herself upside down into a handstand and came up smiling. she pretty much stuck to the front of the stage with her head twisted around to make sure she could check her dance moves with the teacher's. At the end the proudly strutted to the very front and struck a pose, and we knew a star has been born.
She was wearing the starry Goddess t-shirt: You are the hero of your own story.
She rocks even if she's rockin' to Fergie. I'm so proud!
We sat through many many urban dance routines that had me and PA looking nervously at each other while little 4th graders did these wierd pelvic thrust moves. Hmm...The Girl is not hanging with those cats. I did feel sorry for one school who felt every frikking child needed to be in it and the music needed to be preschool friendly. Wow. That's what they were called. But seriously wow. Either the songs were a little risque or sickeningly childish. Nothing in between. Not really.
Ok. So...after an evening of Rap/Hip hop pounding in our ears we finally got to our Babygirl's routine. Good. Great. Let's get it on! She got out there and they kids lined up with a lane down the middle for someone to dance through. One kid went. Then there was a lull in the action on stage. So Pinkie ran to the middle and flipped herself upside down into a handstand and came up smiling. she pretty much stuck to the front of the stage with her head twisted around to make sure she could check her dance moves with the teacher's. At the end the proudly strutted to the very front and struck a pose, and we knew a star has been born.
She was wearing the starry Goddess t-shirt: You are the hero of your own story.
She rocks even if she's rockin' to Fergie. I'm so proud!
2 down....2 to go
After the Recharge and a very scary, very early ride home during the very scary thunderstorm/downpour complete with big scary semis passing me every now and then, I got home to find PA actually asleep on the couch. I wasn't expecting him. I never do unless I have to go to school and then he doesn't show up until I've been gone for at least an hour. Whatever. I'm not here to bitch about him necessarily. Well, no I'll still bitch about him.
What I found that morning was a sleeping grown child and a bouncing barking dog. I said hello to the child and pet the pooch, but I noticed something was missing from my routine animal greeting. My cat was not saying hello. Hmmm... I asked the grown child were she was and he looked and called for her. Still no feline. Hmmm. It was pouring rain outside, and our baby kitty was somewhere out there. My heart sunk to my stomach were it proceeded to nauseate my poor tummy.
What happened was that he had some friends over, and they got drunk and rowdy. Our coffee table is broken from a testosterone fueled wrestling match. At some point in time as they went back and forth from the porch and the livingroom, the cat snuck out. Damn cat was probably trying to find peace and quiet. I'm sure Chika was having a panic attack in the Boy's room with all the commotion.
Ohhh. Shit. The kids. What do I do? The kids came home from the GP's house , and their reaction was to be expected. Pinkie started fretting. I swear she can fret like the best of them. I think she gets that from me. It rained all day. I thought surely with the weather being nasty and the kids being tired and bored then the day was going to suck ass. But they both tried to keep positive. Nothing's for certain. Somehow they already know this crazy fact of life.
Sunday we walked through the neighborhood and put up posters begging for the return of our precious puddin-tat. It wasn't a good sign that on one of the poles that we put our flier on was another flier for the same type of cat but gone by that point for a month. I bit my lip and kept going. It's now been a week. I've been to the humane society. No luck there, but I'll keep trying. To bad the REAL owner of the cat hasn't tried looking for her. Hmmm....
Now to pet number 2. Nemo our longest living fish has been fighting some kind of fungal thing. eew. Yesterday I watched the poor fish swim very quickly straight down and smack his face on the ground. That had to hurt. One thought ran through my mind, but since life has dealt a rough one for most of my friends I'll not say what I thought he was doing.
The good side of this is that I'm down to 1 furry stinkball and 1 wet fish. And since I brought almost all of the plants inside(19 so far and already given a few away), I'm glad the number of lives I'm responsible for has dropped even if it's just by 2.
What I found that morning was a sleeping grown child and a bouncing barking dog. I said hello to the child and pet the pooch, but I noticed something was missing from my routine animal greeting. My cat was not saying hello. Hmmm... I asked the grown child were she was and he looked and called for her. Still no feline. Hmmm. It was pouring rain outside, and our baby kitty was somewhere out there. My heart sunk to my stomach were it proceeded to nauseate my poor tummy.
What happened was that he had some friends over, and they got drunk and rowdy. Our coffee table is broken from a testosterone fueled wrestling match. At some point in time as they went back and forth from the porch and the livingroom, the cat snuck out. Damn cat was probably trying to find peace and quiet. I'm sure Chika was having a panic attack in the Boy's room with all the commotion.
Ohhh. Shit. The kids. What do I do? The kids came home from the GP's house , and their reaction was to be expected. Pinkie started fretting. I swear she can fret like the best of them. I think she gets that from me. It rained all day. I thought surely with the weather being nasty and the kids being tired and bored then the day was going to suck ass. But they both tried to keep positive. Nothing's for certain. Somehow they already know this crazy fact of life.
Sunday we walked through the neighborhood and put up posters begging for the return of our precious puddin-tat. It wasn't a good sign that on one of the poles that we put our flier on was another flier for the same type of cat but gone by that point for a month. I bit my lip and kept going. It's now been a week. I've been to the humane society. No luck there, but I'll keep trying. To bad the REAL owner of the cat hasn't tried looking for her. Hmmm....
Now to pet number 2. Nemo our longest living fish has been fighting some kind of fungal thing. eew. Yesterday I watched the poor fish swim very quickly straight down and smack his face on the ground. That had to hurt. One thought ran through my mind, but since life has dealt a rough one for most of my friends I'll not say what I thought he was doing.
The good side of this is that I'm down to 1 furry stinkball and 1 wet fish. And since I brought almost all of the plants inside(19 so far and already given a few away), I'm glad the number of lives I'm responsible for has dropped even if it's just by 2.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Pinkie Sponge Zilla
It's been a long tim since I've blogged about kids. I think today is the day. I will now start with the obligatory Mom's Praise for Her Offspring. Shouldn't that be "Outspring"? Or "Squeezes So Hard Your Eyeballs Go Cross"?
My children have great patience while I have lost mine.
Their best friend is a child that I am going to refer as Spongebob because he IS THAT ANNOYING. Ok. I have a heart as cold as ice. Puppies and kitties don't make me melt. Babies scare the bejeebus out of me. Butterflies are ok though.
Spongebob is one of those children that makes at least 4 or 5 attempts at eating your food each and every time he walks through your frontdoor. I can't afford to feed him I wish I could, but right now I just cannot. My cold, unfeeling heart is showing to some of you while to others I just appear pragmatic.
Spongebob also makes loud grating arghs, urghs, grrs, and raspberry noises constantly. He is incapable of refraining from making those sounds. I'm noise sensitive, and when I listen to music, I don't want hear Spongebob's weird gutteral utterences. I'm stressed out, wound tighter than kite string. The English don't even come close. So when I need down time listening to drunken alternative country or smooth world music composed to the sounds of a river, god damn it that's all I want to hear!
I love to watch the kids dancing. Pinkie and Zilla listen to the music's melody and rhythm and create interpretive dances for our amusement. Spongebob is a different story, and I have to admit right now I'm laughing about his antics. He saw the kiddos dancing and thought it was hilarious which brought out a torrent of arhgh-ha-ha-ha-arrhg's. For some reason they always get friends who don't dance as a recreation and their reactions are always so funny.
Spongebob stuck his tongue out and started contorting his body in a fashion that just a few hundred years ago would have had him burned at the stake for being possessed by demons. He was making the Noises too, drowning out the stereo. At the time it annoyed me because the music is what was inspiring my own children to move and we couldn't hear it because of him. I made everyone leave the room so I could work on my project in the peace and quiet of the song "Fuck this Town". I know I was tired. There's no other excuse.
So onto the part where I discuss what seems to me an infinite surplus of patience that resides in my children's souls. Those two people that I brought forth into this world are amazing to me. They accept and love folk for who they are regardless of "differences" that might be there. They are "long suffering". I learned when I was a child that that attribute was a virtue. I lost it somewhere along the line, but I have two role models that live me to take my cues from.
As a side note...they just turned on Spongebob Squarepants.
My children have great patience while I have lost mine.
Their best friend is a child that I am going to refer as Spongebob because he IS THAT ANNOYING. Ok. I have a heart as cold as ice. Puppies and kitties don't make me melt. Babies scare the bejeebus out of me. Butterflies are ok though.
Spongebob is one of those children that makes at least 4 or 5 attempts at eating your food each and every time he walks through your frontdoor. I can't afford to feed him I wish I could, but right now I just cannot. My cold, unfeeling heart is showing to some of you while to others I just appear pragmatic.
Spongebob also makes loud grating arghs, urghs, grrs, and raspberry noises constantly. He is incapable of refraining from making those sounds. I'm noise sensitive, and when I listen to music, I don't want hear Spongebob's weird gutteral utterences. I'm stressed out, wound tighter than kite string. The English don't even come close. So when I need down time listening to drunken alternative country or smooth world music composed to the sounds of a river, god damn it that's all I want to hear!
I love to watch the kids dancing. Pinkie and Zilla listen to the music's melody and rhythm and create interpretive dances for our amusement. Spongebob is a different story, and I have to admit right now I'm laughing about his antics. He saw the kiddos dancing and thought it was hilarious which brought out a torrent of arhgh-ha-ha-ha-arrhg's. For some reason they always get friends who don't dance as a recreation and their reactions are always so funny.
Spongebob stuck his tongue out and started contorting his body in a fashion that just a few hundred years ago would have had him burned at the stake for being possessed by demons. He was making the Noises too, drowning out the stereo. At the time it annoyed me because the music is what was inspiring my own children to move and we couldn't hear it because of him. I made everyone leave the room so I could work on my project in the peace and quiet of the song "Fuck this Town". I know I was tired. There's no other excuse.
So onto the part where I discuss what seems to me an infinite surplus of patience that resides in my children's souls. Those two people that I brought forth into this world are amazing to me. They accept and love folk for who they are regardless of "differences" that might be there. They are "long suffering". I learned when I was a child that that attribute was a virtue. I lost it somewhere along the line, but I have two role models that live me to take my cues from.
As a side note...they just turned on Spongebob Squarepants.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Nothing like being a grown up
When acting like the hot, sophisticated, older woman in a class where everyone's at least 10 years your junior....make sure you don't have mustard from your lunch dried on your neck!!!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
No, I don't care if I'm classist
I love this town. I've felt safe here and wanted to raise my babies here. I remember walking late at night after the bars closed by myself and not feeling too uncomfortable. That of course was pre-baby and crazy marriage (10 years ago). This town was so safe and welcoming.
Now I'm pissed and slightly Unnerved. PA was mugged last week. By privileged college boys. Smashed a bottle on his head, kicked him in the ribs a couple of times when he was unconscious on the ground, and took off with his wallet. They took off with our rent. Effing effers.
It's not bad enough to have a relationship hanging on by a monofilament, but add the financial shit (and shit it is), I'm about to have another nervous breakdown. I can not afford that. I don't know anyone who can really. There is one lesson that I learned and I've really tried not to accept it but I'm weak and now I don't like/trust frat boys. Point out more than a few good ones, and I'll change my mind. Ok. I had those feelings while in college, but it's been so long, and I forgot about the little trustfund bastards.
You'd think their parents would instill a conscientious philosophy like ummm...don't steal especially from the poor. I know after a point you can't do a thing about it, but I swear if my kids turn out like that I'll spank the crap out of them. I don't care how old they (or I) might be.
Aahhh. Panic attack over. Breathing coming back to normal. Not a drop of beer in the house.
Hmmm...Panic attack coming back.
Now I'm pissed and slightly Unnerved. PA was mugged last week. By privileged college boys. Smashed a bottle on his head, kicked him in the ribs a couple of times when he was unconscious on the ground, and took off with his wallet. They took off with our rent. Effing effers.
It's not bad enough to have a relationship hanging on by a monofilament, but add the financial shit (and shit it is), I'm about to have another nervous breakdown. I can not afford that. I don't know anyone who can really. There is one lesson that I learned and I've really tried not to accept it but I'm weak and now I don't like/trust frat boys. Point out more than a few good ones, and I'll change my mind. Ok. I had those feelings while in college, but it's been so long, and I forgot about the little trustfund bastards.
You'd think their parents would instill a conscientious philosophy like ummm...don't steal especially from the poor. I know after a point you can't do a thing about it, but I swear if my kids turn out like that I'll spank the crap out of them. I don't care how old they (or I) might be.
Aahhh. Panic attack over. Breathing coming back to normal. Not a drop of beer in the house.
Hmmm...Panic attack coming back.
Sunday, September 02, 2007
What a Stressed Out Family Needs
I've been stressed out. This week especially. I usually sleep 7-8 hours, but this past week I'd be lucky to 5 hours at night that were sporadic at best. So after my 4th night in a row of my laying on my bed instead of sleeping, I got up for a mini vacation for my stressed out family. We went to Worlds of Fun.
I have so many fond memories of that place when I was young. My family having the rare moments of fun together, long sweaty lines of people, weird paper parasol/flower things, fistfuls of gummy worms, the Orient Express, my first make out session was on top of the old river boat during a church youth outing. Seriously, the sexiest place was church youth group.
Yesterday provided more fond memories that even a bitchy strangerlady from Iowa could not squelch. Neither of my children bickered. My folks and PA got along great. Me and PA got along great. There weren't that many people there on such a beautiful day. It was the perfect day to go.
One thing I love about amusement parks is that you can test your fear level or maybe not in some cases. This was my kids' first time in an establishment not run by carnies and that had rides large enough for some serious liability insurance policies. I can be pragmatic at times.
My son went on the Mamba which is BIG. I have a fear of heights, and I went up it without looking around and clutched so hard to the car that my hand hurt afterward. I was too frightened to turn and look at my son let alone anything else. I can just imagine what he was feeling during that ride. He didn't make a sound even though PA let out a few choice words on the initial dropoff. I'm so proud of him (Zilla), but he and I agree that we're not going on that one again. He's smart. He know his limits.
Pinkie's turn for feeling the fear of death came towards the end of the day when she felt slightly left out and decided to join in for the wooden rollercoaster. It's not as high as the previous, but it's daunting for a 6 YO. We got up to the line , and RIGHT before we were to step into the car, she had a Nervous Pee Attack. She bounced up and down till me and her left through the chicken gate.
I don't care. I'm not one to push if they're not ready.
So, I got her to Granma and waited for Zilla, PA, and Grampa to return, so I could go on it with someone. Well, luck would have it that Granma and Pinkie returned before the boys showed up, and Pinkie decided that she would go on it this time.
Now, I don't push, but if they feel they are ready for something like a thrill ride then fine they can go.
We get on the contraption, and all was fine except for some teasing from PA. It started. PA informed her that she could scream if she wanted, and I confirmed that it was true. I even scream from time to time. All was shakey but fine. Then the first dip...not a sound. I kept my arms around the poor girl to give her some comfort. I couldn't really see her face, but I should have realized from the lack of sound she thought she was going to meet her maker.
I know, we were sitting next to and behind her, so why that fear?
We get to the end after what seemed an eternity of my daughter locked in the grips of fear. The train of death stops, and we exit. She starts to cry. PA picked up the poor frightened little girl who then screamed for Momma. Damn! Mom guilt sets in! What do I do?! We buy the picture!
Worlds Of Fun has a delightful practice of taking pictures of people whilst on the rides. The picture for this ride shows the true essence of what those few minutes were like for my poor Pinkie. Of course, we all laughed because honestly the girl had the best expression on her face. She clenched her teeth the WHOLE time while grasping the front of the car even though my arms were around her.
So much for Mom Guilt. The picture now has a place of honor on the shelf in my kitchen. I'm so proud of my dysfunctional family! All of us looked at our fears in the eye. I and my fear of heights, Pinkie and Zilla and their impending doom, and PA and his fear of hanging out with my parents. We all successfully had a good time despite those fears!
And I got 10 hours of sleep!
I have so many fond memories of that place when I was young. My family having the rare moments of fun together, long sweaty lines of people, weird paper parasol/flower things, fistfuls of gummy worms, the Orient Express, my first make out session was on top of the old river boat during a church youth outing. Seriously, the sexiest place was church youth group.
Yesterday provided more fond memories that even a bitchy strangerlady from Iowa could not squelch. Neither of my children bickered. My folks and PA got along great. Me and PA got along great. There weren't that many people there on such a beautiful day. It was the perfect day to go.
One thing I love about amusement parks is that you can test your fear level or maybe not in some cases. This was my kids' first time in an establishment not run by carnies and that had rides large enough for some serious liability insurance policies. I can be pragmatic at times.
My son went on the Mamba which is BIG. I have a fear of heights, and I went up it without looking around and clutched so hard to the car that my hand hurt afterward. I was too frightened to turn and look at my son let alone anything else. I can just imagine what he was feeling during that ride. He didn't make a sound even though PA let out a few choice words on the initial dropoff. I'm so proud of him (Zilla), but he and I agree that we're not going on that one again. He's smart. He know his limits.
Pinkie's turn for feeling the fear of death came towards the end of the day when she felt slightly left out and decided to join in for the wooden rollercoaster. It's not as high as the previous, but it's daunting for a 6 YO. We got up to the line , and RIGHT before we were to step into the car, she had a Nervous Pee Attack. She bounced up and down till me and her left through the chicken gate.
I don't care. I'm not one to push if they're not ready.
So, I got her to Granma and waited for Zilla, PA, and Grampa to return, so I could go on it with someone. Well, luck would have it that Granma and Pinkie returned before the boys showed up, and Pinkie decided that she would go on it this time.
Now, I don't push, but if they feel they are ready for something like a thrill ride then fine they can go.
We get on the contraption, and all was fine except for some teasing from PA. It started. PA informed her that she could scream if she wanted, and I confirmed that it was true. I even scream from time to time. All was shakey but fine. Then the first dip...not a sound. I kept my arms around the poor girl to give her some comfort. I couldn't really see her face, but I should have realized from the lack of sound she thought she was going to meet her maker.
I know, we were sitting next to and behind her, so why that fear?
We get to the end after what seemed an eternity of my daughter locked in the grips of fear. The train of death stops, and we exit. She starts to cry. PA picked up the poor frightened little girl who then screamed for Momma. Damn! Mom guilt sets in! What do I do?! We buy the picture!
Worlds Of Fun has a delightful practice of taking pictures of people whilst on the rides. The picture for this ride shows the true essence of what those few minutes were like for my poor Pinkie. Of course, we all laughed because honestly the girl had the best expression on her face. She clenched her teeth the WHOLE time while grasping the front of the car even though my arms were around her.
So much for Mom Guilt. The picture now has a place of honor on the shelf in my kitchen. I'm so proud of my dysfunctional family! All of us looked at our fears in the eye. I and my fear of heights, Pinkie and Zilla and their impending doom, and PA and his fear of hanging out with my parents. We all successfully had a good time despite those fears!
And I got 10 hours of sleep!
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
School supplies
Oohhh. I forgot about how much supplies for art classes cost. I cringed when I bought the kids' school supplies, and that was for two people. And it was WAY less than what I'm going to half to pay for one class. Damn college.
I shouldn't complain. I know I'm lucky. I have no major diseases, nor does anyone in my family. I'm not paying 2 grand for one class, but I'm a frugal, frugal woman, and I had to finish off a bottle of wine after I balanced my checkbook. I'm not worried about finishing school. It won't take too long. I'll get my internship (slavedom), and then I will be on my way to starting a positive period of my life after a stint of personal recession.
All's I can say is breathe deep and pass me the bottle again, please.
And maybe hand me a piece of chocolate cake. I need it.
I shouldn't complain. I know I'm lucky. I have no major diseases, nor does anyone in my family. I'm not paying 2 grand for one class, but I'm a frugal, frugal woman, and I had to finish off a bottle of wine after I balanced my checkbook. I'm not worried about finishing school. It won't take too long. I'll get my internship (slavedom), and then I will be on my way to starting a positive period of my life after a stint of personal recession.
All's I can say is breathe deep and pass me the bottle again, please.
And maybe hand me a piece of chocolate cake. I need it.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Grumpisaurus cooled off
The AC is working again. I had a wonderful facial/massage today. I didn't have to read about someone's medical yuckiness. The animals didn't shred anything today. PA was beaving himself. My kids were listening and dancing to good music!
Thank Goddess for fabulous days!
Even if they were over 100 degrees.
Thank Goddess for fabulous days!
Even if they were over 100 degrees.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Collective Sigh Heard Around Town
I know I'll hear it. Tomorrow starting at 7:00 am, it'll start. The collective parental sigh of relief. Summer is over.
I love summer. I love eating, drinking, and living outdoors. I love seeing near naked people running. I love cicadas humming in the trees outside my house. I love fresh vegetables out of the garden.
What I don't love and will never love is having 2 bored children living under the same roof as me while the temperature outside remains 100 at 9 pm. Living with another adult who gets bored easily and behaves like a child is bad enough. BUT 2 whiny, overheated, lazy children drive me crazy. It's after 10 pm, and I'm still fighting with them on bedtime, but it's hotter than hell in here, so I understand. AC better not be on the fritz.
I love the children, mind you. The beginning of summer, springtime, fall, and the beginning of winter are awesome to have them around, but when the weather gets extreme they become devil spawn. Whiny devil spawn. The worst kind because not only are they pestering each other but then they whine at me after the inevitable hit/kick/scream outcome.
I don't do whinese. I refuse to learn it. My favorite reaction is asking the whiner what he/she did to deserve the said hit/kick/scream outcome. I always find out that the whiner started the pestering that escalated into such a volatile state.
Bill O'Reilly doesn't consider bomb explosions in Iraq to be newsworthy, but maybe he'll consider the explosive temperaments of PinkZilla to be. He's another topic of heated disgust, but I don't want to talk about serious matters on such a hot night. That will just make me grumpy instead of annoyed, but right now I feel like we hit the lower levels of hell.
Damn, I bet the AC went out. I need a popsicle.
I love summer. I love eating, drinking, and living outdoors. I love seeing near naked people running. I love cicadas humming in the trees outside my house. I love fresh vegetables out of the garden.
What I don't love and will never love is having 2 bored children living under the same roof as me while the temperature outside remains 100 at 9 pm. Living with another adult who gets bored easily and behaves like a child is bad enough. BUT 2 whiny, overheated, lazy children drive me crazy. It's after 10 pm, and I'm still fighting with them on bedtime, but it's hotter than hell in here, so I understand. AC better not be on the fritz.
I love the children, mind you. The beginning of summer, springtime, fall, and the beginning of winter are awesome to have them around, but when the weather gets extreme they become devil spawn. Whiny devil spawn. The worst kind because not only are they pestering each other but then they whine at me after the inevitable hit/kick/scream outcome.
I don't do whinese. I refuse to learn it. My favorite reaction is asking the whiner what he/she did to deserve the said hit/kick/scream outcome. I always find out that the whiner started the pestering that escalated into such a volatile state.
Bill O'Reilly doesn't consider bomb explosions in Iraq to be newsworthy, but maybe he'll consider the explosive temperaments of PinkZilla to be. He's another topic of heated disgust, but I don't want to talk about serious matters on such a hot night. That will just make me grumpy instead of annoyed, but right now I feel like we hit the lower levels of hell.
Damn, I bet the AC went out. I need a popsicle.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Remember if you're going to have bumper stickers on your car...make sure they make sense together.
On the way to work I got behind a little car who was being driven by a socially conscience person. I first started reading the sticker on the left.
"If you want a country run by religion move to Iran.'
There was some insignificant sticker to the effect of being proud of your offspring for scholarly prowess. Then the sticker on the right:
"Free Tibet."
hmmm...
On the way to work I got behind a little car who was being driven by a socially conscience person. I first started reading the sticker on the left.
"If you want a country run by religion move to Iran.'
There was some insignificant sticker to the effect of being proud of your offspring for scholarly prowess. Then the sticker on the right:
"Free Tibet."
hmmm...
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
weddings/divorces
I've come across the both of them recently, and It's got me to thinking. I don't belong at weddings. I don't like them. Divorce was easy for me. I love my lawyer. Don't remind me who my roommate is.
I mean my little cousin's wedding was cute. I guess...but pink and white goes a little far. Especially when the groom wears a white/white striped tux. There were cute little candleholders w/ the word "love" carved into them. Pink and green flowery crap draping everything. Pink chopsticks as party favors (ultracute). The sermon (because there always has to be one in a religious ceremony) was rife with man cleaving to the wifey and references to adam and eve. Typical stuff.
I brought a book. I had to. You see, I naturally scoff at these events. Even before I was married I was known for my disdain for them. Yes I know, I shouldn't have got married in the first place. It's just not for me.
I was good up until the end when the Officiate announced the couple with one male name. I started clapping like everyone else. It'd be rude not to, but then I let out "Yay! She lost her identity!" My brother who's more known for rude outbursts told me to shut up. yeesh.
See I feel a woman loses her identity not with a name change but with a complete erasure of her given name under the romanticized guise of "oneness ordained by god". I just snorted. That's kinda hard to do when you're stuffed up too. It makes me giggle to think of the phrase "cleaving to the wifey". I always thought of men as being needy. I guess this just reinforces it without making them feel weak (for shame!).
Marriages are on my mind. I don't wish for them to go bad. If that was case, One Toothbrush, I wouldn't even go near your celebration. I just can't stand traditional and outside influence on something so personal. I understand partnerships. I'm all about honest, cooperative relationships that are positive to both sides. blah blah.
Yesterday a dear friend came over to discuss his marital situation and get the number of my lawyer. I was the best man at his wedding. I was 7.5 months pregnant and wearing heels. This wedding was a little like the Birdcage. Freaks of all kinds on the groom's side, and mormons on the bride's side. I'm sure you've heard of this story before.
Well the interesting gooey parts keep going. He caught her cheating. Mind you, they had an open marriage, so there's no need for the deceit. She just couldn't help it. You see he doesn't like master/slave relationships. She had a master. Not him.
When I'm around the Ladies I feel prude, but I have to tell you around them I feel downright Puritan. I have no energy for more than one at a time. She juggled six. Her stamina is amazing.
Whatever...he's getting a divorce now. Not because she slept with other men, but that she lied about it. I guess that disproves my needy man theory.
I mean my little cousin's wedding was cute. I guess...but pink and white goes a little far. Especially when the groom wears a white/white striped tux. There were cute little candleholders w/ the word "love" carved into them. Pink and green flowery crap draping everything. Pink chopsticks as party favors (ultracute). The sermon (because there always has to be one in a religious ceremony) was rife with man cleaving to the wifey and references to adam and eve. Typical stuff.
I brought a book. I had to. You see, I naturally scoff at these events. Even before I was married I was known for my disdain for them. Yes I know, I shouldn't have got married in the first place. It's just not for me.
I was good up until the end when the Officiate announced the couple with one male name. I started clapping like everyone else. It'd be rude not to, but then I let out "Yay! She lost her identity!" My brother who's more known for rude outbursts told me to shut up. yeesh.
See I feel a woman loses her identity not with a name change but with a complete erasure of her given name under the romanticized guise of "oneness ordained by god". I just snorted. That's kinda hard to do when you're stuffed up too. It makes me giggle to think of the phrase "cleaving to the wifey". I always thought of men as being needy. I guess this just reinforces it without making them feel weak (for shame!).
Marriages are on my mind. I don't wish for them to go bad. If that was case, One Toothbrush, I wouldn't even go near your celebration. I just can't stand traditional and outside influence on something so personal. I understand partnerships. I'm all about honest, cooperative relationships that are positive to both sides. blah blah.
Yesterday a dear friend came over to discuss his marital situation and get the number of my lawyer. I was the best man at his wedding. I was 7.5 months pregnant and wearing heels. This wedding was a little like the Birdcage. Freaks of all kinds on the groom's side, and mormons on the bride's side. I'm sure you've heard of this story before.
Well the interesting gooey parts keep going. He caught her cheating. Mind you, they had an open marriage, so there's no need for the deceit. She just couldn't help it. You see he doesn't like master/slave relationships. She had a master. Not him.
When I'm around the Ladies I feel prude, but I have to tell you around them I feel downright Puritan. I have no energy for more than one at a time. She juggled six. Her stamina is amazing.
Whatever...he's getting a divorce now. Not because she slept with other men, but that she lied about it. I guess that disproves my needy man theory.
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