Thursday, December 18, 2008

Torturing your kids


The week before Christmas is the best time to torture your kids. How you ask...oh you probably already know...don't you do it too? Put beautifully wrapped boxes under your merrily, twinkling tree and then tell them...Don't touch. This is fun! So the mischievous cherubs poke, prod, shake, rattle, stroke, guess until they are shimmying around in frustration. Ooohh it's a parent's smorgasbord of delight. I can't imagine another situation where you can legally torture your children and they make it a national holiday. Then we get to blame all our gleeful manipulation on a fictitious fat man...where do they think these things up?

Blogging prep

I love to blog. It's a great opportunity for me to rattle on to myself and practice writing. I know that's a skill that is sadly lacking in myself ever since I've left college. I have grand dreams of writing a book, so maybe...maybe...I will.

But I now have a routine to blogging that amuses me...First, I must think of an idea of what to say...this could take a minute or at times weeks. I realize it doesn't have to be earth shattering or even interesting...just write. But alas, I am wracked with the idea that I NEED a topic...silly me.

Second, I open my blog page and read all the blogs I have missed. Okay, this does take a while. For that I have to thank Chris...she is a writing fiend. The women can whip them out and they are funny or at time thought provoking. She is my idol! The more I look around, the more blogs that I like, so the time gets a bit longer until I do write. Of course it might be a way for me to stall...nah, that's just silly....

Third, I write. Hell, then re-write...then fix, add, check spelling. Ugh, this is hard. Okay...just do it. The voices in head are being annoying now, chanting in unison..."JUST DO IT!". So off I go...wait, I guess this is me writing... YEAH!

Now I know I am old

I have discovered that I am old. How you ask??? Well, I got out of bed to pee at some god-awful hour in morning (should have been my first clue) and hobbled to the bathroom. Oh my God!! I hobbled like my Grandmother. It now takes me a minute or so to work out the kinks in my ankles, so I hobble. Ugh! Granted I tweaked them playing indoor soccer, but now I look and feel like an old person. Gee what's next...peeing when I sneeze? Oh wait, I do that already...down hill for sure.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

Oh, what a smell.

Ever since my last pregnancy, I have not lost my super power for smelling. At times this has been very useful, like when I try to pinpoint a Partylite scent of candle. Other times, it is down right annoying. I can smell, as my loving husband likes to say, a gnats fart at a hundred yards. This has become especially annoying lately since for some reason unbeknownst to me my cats are peeing in my house. Ugh! Overlooking the obvious disgusting element of waste elimination of it's own unsanitary issue, the smell is making me nuts.


Okay, so picture this, me on my hands and knees sniffing madly around the carpet, up the walls, around the furniture looking for the "wet spot". I know that I must find it, it stinks, and if I don't they will pee there again. Cats LOVE going to the last known scene and working their magic, again and again and... Of course my dog thinks this is a game and is licking me and sniffing with me during my exploration. I have 5 cats and that raises the stench potential exponentially, I can almost see the vapors rising as I speak...uummm now where is it!

Low and behold, I find it. So I scurry to pour a gallon of vinegar on the spot...ooohhh...the smell level changes. I abhor the smell of vinegar, makes me nauseous. So as I sway over the offending spot, I scrub the spreading noxious cleaner into the carpet, praying that it will penetrate into the pad below and neutralize the "newest spot". I rise, a bit unsteadily in my sickness, to determine how long a gallon of liquid takes to dry in carpet. So I wait anxiously, then I can spread baking soda on the area, praying I will not make paste or dissolve the pad below. Finally it's dry enough and I scatter white powder all over the carpet, encompassing a bigger area than needed. Gee whiz, more must be better, right? Then I rush to the bathroom to fetch the hydrogen peroxide...oooohhhh...the chemists are loving this part. I truly enjoyed junior high science and this is no different. I watch the bubbles and scrub fiercely...ummm..I wonder if I should have worn gloves..

So, this has continued for about a month, I can't seem to keep up with the little buggers, but I am finally covering all spots. Then we leave for the Thanksgiving holiday, yep you guess it. I come home to a smell that made me retch and a visual Van Gogh of urine and feces on my kitchen floor. Me, the mother of 5 kids who has seen vomit in all colors and lumpy consistencies, who has seen more shit than a sewer worker, is almost spewing at the mess.

My only excuse for my behavior after this was because I was tired. We arrived in late and I had been driving in bad weather and I was still stressed. But, I guess, most of all, I was FED UP!!! If my husband had his gun out, I think I would have shot the offending balls of fur! I ran to the laundry room and grabbed what was sure to be one of the worst mistake I have made in my life. The bleach. Yep, you guess it again, cat's urine is ammonia and did I think about that? Hell no. I just wanted the smell gone. Well, it left alright. As soon as I splashed the floor liberally with the fluid I saw my idiocy. I watched the bubbling yellow puddle in fascination while my brain clicked on what was going to be obvious real soon.

Oh shit! My eyes began to burn and water madly and my nose became more raw with each breath I inhaled. I thrust open the kitchen windows as wide as I could and ran to the bathroom to flip on the fan, screamed at Dave to open the back door. He was staring at me, paused at the entry to kitchen with an expression that clearly said "What the F***!" I hurried to open as many doors and windows as I could, then grabbed the crappiest towels I could find to mop up the chemical disaster I had created. Yelling at Kelly to take the kids to the back bedroom away from the fumes that were making me ill, I quickly sopped up what I could. I couldn't cover my face, my nose, because all I could smell was bleach no matter what I did. My eyes just weeped in fury.

Finally I took the dripping, sodden bleach towels to the washing machine...how much damage could I do there? If the towels made it, great, if not, oh well. I think the smell finally went away, I wasn't sure until the next morning when my body repaired the damage I had done to it.

"So Jo Jo, what did you learn?" Shoot the cats next time!

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Filters

I am very fascinated by filters. The filters that we use to communicate with other people, the filters we use to take in information, the filters we use to process what we receive from our senses. What always astounds me is that I don't think I have met very many people who have all filters working.

My husband has a broken filter. We joke about it often and it's a standing joking reference with his friends. He doesn't "filter" out what's appropriate to say to someone...the switch just doesn't work. Oh, you know things like..."why would I want to go to dinner with you" comment when I asked him on a date or maybe, "I like your boobs hanging down like that". At times this can and is amusing...others...let's just say, the pillow when he is sleeping looks very inviting.

My Mother also suffers from the same affliction my husband does. The last comment, "Wow, you've really gotten big", was said to my NEWLY pregnant cousin. And yep, she is on the heavy side and would not be showing for a couple months, at least. God love her, because she was very confused when I told her that it wasn't really a very nice comment, even when well intentioned.

The people who have a broken intake filter are harder to spot. I have one such friend that will take days to process and then suddenly crap on your head because of a comment or action you did a few days ago. I've learned to expect this from her, so it's not so alarming as it once was. The severity usually coincides with her emotional state, so I tend now to pay attention. The bonus is that I can offer a comment or opinion, she will appear like she hasn't receive it, but I get a change of behavior later.

That last one is truly subjective to me. Since everyone processes differently it's always a hoot to find out what everyone experienced or how they "perceived" it. It's like looking at a Rubik cube, changing sides and potential for confusion or solutions.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Win an advance copy of SWALLOWING DARKNESS I want a copy

Win an advance copy of SWALLOWING DARKNESS Post our SWALLOWING DARKNESS countdown widget on your website or blog and be eligible to win one of fifty finished copies of SWALLOWING DARKNESS. Click here to add the SWALLOWING DARKNESS widget to your website or blog and send the URL featuring the widget to delrey@randomhouse.com by midnight on Monday, October 27th. We will randomly select fifty winners who will receive a finished copy of the book.Visit Laurell K. Hamilton's official website at http://info.randomhouse.com/cgi-bin21/DM/y/h2sH0KbWIt0WN0Qfm0EY
~~~

On Sale November 4, 2008

I am Meredith, princess of faerie, wielder of the hands of Flesh and Blood, and at long last, I am with child-twins, fathered by my royal guard. Though my uncle, Taranis, King of Light and Illusion, claims that he is the true father since he abducted me from my home, betrayed, and defiled me. And now he has branded my guards as a threat to my unborn children. Bearing an heir has placed me halfway to my aunt's throne, that much closer to my reign over the Unseelie Court-and well ahead of her son, my cousin Cel, in this race. Now I must stay alive to see my children born and claim my place as queen. But not all in faerie are pleased with the news, and conspirators from every court in the realm plot against me and mine. They seek to strip my guards, my lovers, from me by poisoned word or cold steel. But I still have supporters, and even friends, among the goblins and the sluagh, who will stand by me. I am Meredith Nic Essus, and those who would defy and destroy me are destined to pay a terrible price-for I am truly my father's daughter. To protect what is mine, I will sacrifice anything-even if it means waging a great battle against my darkest enemies and making the most momentous decision ever made as princess of faerie. Click here to read an excerpt

Monday, October 20, 2008

Tightening the belt

I riding along in the car today, flipping channels when I stop on a morning show talking about a big write up in YAHOO. This was about how women are turning to prostitution/escort services to pay their bills. I guess I was astounded, maybe like a few listeners. Are you serious? Prostitution has been around since we landed/grew/placed here eons ago.



SideNOTE: I happen to support prostitution, if it is regulated. Look at Denmark, it is a remarkable trade. There is less disease and health issues because it is mandated for checkups and screening. Plus people, mostly women are protected. I don't know about the social stigma there, but if it was a "accepted" practice (which means out in the open) then we might have less issues over all. Ummm...it's a thought.



So what got me riled was the notion that people are suffering in our current economy. I realize that some people aren't working and can't find work, not really talking about them. It is the people who are working and have been.



After I stopped working and we went to a single income, DAMN, we tightened our belts. We were hit in our personal economy in a big way. So we stop going out, we revised our "necessities". We sold our cars, actually one we turned in to the dealer rather than wait for it to be repossessed. So we traded down to cars we could afford. Although we have 2 cars, they are both almost 20 years old. They get us to were we need to go and that is what counts. I know my husband suffers with the "look" of his car, but each month when he doesn't have to pay a car payment or even high gas bill...gee whiz, it looks better.



So this "decline" in the economy isn't hitting us as hard as I am hearing others. So it had me thinking why? What came to me was the fact we are stripping to bones now. We have some luxuries, who can truly go without unless you had no other choice, we are enjoying life with what we have now. If we can't afford it, we don't have it. We spend where it is needed and try to use what we have wisely. Don't get me wrong, we struggle between what we want and what we need, usually every month. But we have gotten good at either making-do or just using what we have.



So I guess we were just ahead of the rest of the nation in learning to tighten that belt. Since we are all just a little bigger, it might pinch a bit.

Sunday, October 05, 2008

Toddler Diet

(found on the internet, author unattributed)

Americans are always on the lookout for a new diet. The trouble with most diets is that you don't get enough to eat (the starvation diet), or you don't get enough variation (the liquid diet), or you go broke (the all-meat diet). Consequently, people tend to cheat on their diets, or quit after 3 days, or go right back to stuffing their faces after it is all over. Is there nothing you can do but give up and tell your friends you have a gland problem? Or is there a slim (groan) hope?

Well, now there's the new Toddler Miracle Diet! Over the years you may have noticed, as I have, that most two-year-olds are trim. It came to me one day over a cup of black coffee and a carrot that perhaps their diet is the reason. After consultation with pediatricians, X-ray technicians, and distraught moms, I was able to formulate this new diet. It is inexpensive, offering great variety and sufficient quantity. Before embarking on this diet, however, be sure to check with your doctor... otherwise you might have to see him afterward. Good luck!

DAY ONE

Breakfast
One scrambled egg, one piece of toast with grape jelly.
Eat 2 bites of egg, using your fingers; dump the rest on the floor.
Take 1 bite of toast, then smear the jelly over your face and clothes.

Lunch
Four crayons (any color), a handful of potato chips, and a glass of milk (3 sips only, then spill the rest).

Dinner
A dry stick, two pennies and a nickel.

Bedtime Snack
Toast piece of bread and toss it on the kitchen floor.

DAY TWO

Breakfast
Pick up stale toast from kitchen floor and eat it. Drink half bottle of vanilla extract or one vial of vegetable dye.

Lunch
Half a tube of "Pulsating Pink" lipstick and a handful of Purina Dog Chow (any flavor).
One ice cube, if desired.

Afternoon Snack
Lick an all-day sucker until sticky, take outside, drop in dirt.
Retrieve and continue slurping until it is clean again.
Then bring inside and drop on the rug.

Dinner
A rock or an uncooked bean, which should be thrust up your left nostril.
Pour iced tea over mashed potatoes; eat with a spoon.

DAY THREE

Breakfast
Two pancakes with plenty of syrup, eat with fingers, rub in hair.
Glass of milk: drink half, stuff pancakes in glass.
After breakfast, pick up yesterday's sucker from rug, lick off fuzz, and put it on the cushion of your best chair.

Lunch
Three matches, peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. Spit several bites onto the floor.
Pour glass of milk on table and slurp up.

Dinner
Dish of ice cream, handful of potato chips.

FINAL DAY

Breakfast
A quarter-tube of toothpaste (any flavor), bit of soap, an olive.
Pour a glass of milk over bowl of cornflakes, add a half-cup of sugar.
Once cereal is soggy, drink milk and feed cereal to dog.

Lunch
Eat crumbs off kitchen floor and dining room carpet. Find that sucker and finish eating it.

Dinner
A glass of spaghetti and chocolate milk. Leave meatball on plate.
Stick of mascara for dessert.
My 14 year:



Wikipedia: Adolescence is a transitional stage of physical and mental human development that occurs between childhood and adulthood. This transition involves biological (i.e. pubertal), social, and psychological changes.


****************

The young always have the same problem - how to rebel and conform at the same time. They have now solved this by defying their parents and copying one another. ~Quentin Crisp



Never lend your car to anyone to whom you have given birth. ~Erma Bombeck



As a teenager you are at the last stage in your life when you will be happy to hear that the phone is for you. ~Fran Lebowitz, Social Studies







My toddlers:



Wikipedia: Toddler is a common term for a young child who is learning to walk or "toddle".



This age is sometimes referred to as 'the terrible twos/threes', because of the temper tantrums for which they are famous. This stage can begin as early as nine months old depending on the child and environment. The toddler is discovering that they are a separate being from their mother or caregiver and are testing their boundaries in learning the way the world around them works. This time between the ages of two and five when they are reaching for independence repeats itself during adolescence.


***************



A toddler believes that if you love a person, you stay with that person 100 percent of the time. Lawrence Balter


The fundamental job of a toddler is to rule the universe.
Lawrence Kutner

Saturday, October 04, 2008

JUST DO IT!

"So should I let the chicken defrost or go ahead and use it now?"
"How do I get this plug out of the bouncing ball for the kids?"
"Where do we keep cleaner for the carpet? Do we have cleaner?"
"Oh, did you want me to clean that up for you?"
"I guess I'll make dinner...errrr...what do you want me to make?"
"So how do I cook chicken? Do I use oil?"

These are some of the questions I've have fielded from my wonderful spouse today. Ummm...we've have been married for 7+ years, lived in this house for 2.5 years and have 5 kids. And it's like I start everyday with Groundhog Man. The routine is ALWAYS the same, get up, clean, feed everyone, send people away, clean, people come back, feed them, shuttle people, clean up, feed everyone, bath, clean, sleep. Do it again. So since even the more moronic idiot can do it (I've seen them at Wal-Mart) you'd think that I might have married a man who despite his underwear changing issue, seems rather intelligent. But it has begun to dawn on me...maybe not.

I have shown him the cookbooks, even where we keep them. I have shown him the place where we keep the cleaners, the toddlers can find it, so it's not like it's hiding in the Lord of the Ring Trilogy. I've actually seen him make a bed, so I know he can do it. I have shown him where clothes are traditionally put when they are waiting to be worn, I must say he was surprised to discover that the drawers pulled out and everything.

Apparently with the release of a human from my vaginal walls, my husband has come to the conclusion I know everything. While you must think that amazing the exalted position my husband to put me on, it sucks.

Just make the damn chicken. I don't care, as long as I don't have to cook it myself and it's edible, just do it. Just fix the damn door or put away the damn clothes or clean the damn floor! Just do it without consulting me. Just do it. Save me the hassle of babysitting you while I am babysitting my toddlers. JUST DO IT!

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

New Technology




I have come to the conclusion nothing makes you feel more stupid than new technology. Don't get me wrong, I love fiddling with some new techy toy (I had to go look that up and see if I spell that correctly) it's like working on a new 1000 piece puzzle, double sided with the same picture on both sides. Boy those are a hoot, who thought THAT was a good idea?

Anyway, I now have a new computer with all the bells and whistles or at least compared to my old system. So I am fiddling for hours trying to figure out where they put the damn print icon, I still haven't figured out where to save my favorites and the explorer view is giving me a headache. But damn, the thing is fast! LOVE THAT! I don't have to wait for an hour to update my web programming and I can even open more than one window at a time. OOOOOhhhhh...I am giddy.

This should keep me busy for at least 2-3 years, just in time for the new, latest and greatest to be released. Then I get to do this again.

Side note: Since I have a new computer, of course I have Vista. It's the new operating system out there so that is what came with set-up. I watched this commercial from Microsoft on TV yesterday about this new software called "Mojave" that they had real people try out. I felt my stomach drop, shit! I just bought this PC and they have a new operating systems I am going to have to upgrade to...and I am not even close to mastering this one. But then they revealed the ploy, it was Vista. It was to show people not to be afraid of Vista, try it out. I shuddered in relief. Wow, dodged that bullet.


Pretty sexy...I put my pic and the professional one up. I have the "real" look to it. :D

Friday, September 19, 2008

Way too much time

How do people get anything accomplished who don't have kids at home? The 3 oldest are off stretching their little brains in the wonder we call the public school system and the twins are busy terrorizing my parents. And I am sitting (for the last 2 hours) writing and playing on the computer. Egads, I have things to do. When the little rugrats are home, I am a dynamo. I whip around finishing projects, making meals, cleaning the house because I KNOW that I have a finite amount of time to work. But with everyone gone, and I must say a very blissful and quiet house it is, I sit and waste time futzing around the net. Typing my inane thoughts because I can.

This happens every time I get "extra" time by myself. I should have learned that quality time by myself never leads me to finish those special projects I've been putting off. Usually I sit and read or watch TV. Sad, I know, you don't have to say it. But how often does that happen? Reading without stopping every 2/3 paragraphs to tell someone to stop touching the other. Or maybe watching TV where you get the gist of the show but have no idea of what big hoopla was over the plot of the story.

So here I sit, the cat curled up on my desk occasionally tapping extra letters on the keyboard when he stretches. And the dog stretched out on the floor knowing that she'll get to go for a ride when I am done. I have to get ready for an appointment in just a few minutes and I still haven't gotten dressed. I am so much more organized when I have toddlers scrambling around me begging for my attention. That is just weird I tell you.

But they all will be returning soon. The school children have a half-day so they will hit the door just after lunch. The toddlers will probably arrive sooner rather than later because my parents aren't as young as they once were. The lack of sleep and the constant requirements that are needed to keep up with 2 toddlers has definitely worn them down. I imagine they will be waiting on my back porch eagerly handing them over so they can go take a nap.

Then I can get back to being efficient because I have to.

Blog wandering

So some Blogs that I found wandering around cyberspace:

My friends:
http://journals.aol.com/rebelagnes/JellyLeg/
http://mycatatemybrain.blogspot.com/

Interesting or Amusing
http://wipingupsnot.com/ - Great episode on being a Grammar Police.
http://findingbeautyinmosteveryday.blogspot.com/ - Amazing Photos
http://goddessinprogress.wordpress.com/ - A Mommy of Twins
http://www.blogthings.com/birthorderpredictorquiz/ - Birth Order Predictor Test

Snot

So I was wondering this morning what truly makes up snot. I know it's a gross subject and you are probably cringing in horror now...so if you are really grossed out, stop reading!

What I was thinking was that it has amazing viscosity (coefficient of viscosity - "the ratio of the tangential frictional force per unit area to the velocity gradient perpendicular to the direction of flow of a liquid"). It can be slide out of your nose like running water or slowly ooze out like lava. Is there anything else on your body that has this much versitilty? Maybe blood.

It can also change colors depending on it's environment. Going from black and dirty brown from the dust it has absorbed into it's mixture to a vibrant green when we are sick. Okay, why is it green? Does it contain some antibodies in the fluid that is going to make us better? Can you imagine how cool that would be if it did, all we would need to do is eat more. It would be even more mind blowing if that could be the basis for curing the common cold or even types of cancer...snot. Come on now, how far-fetched is it? We use leeches & maggots, why not the common snot layer. Harvesting it would be a hoot.

Have you ever wondered why it's so sticky? One moment it's like Elmers (R) glue, easy to pull apart between your fingers, sort of like pulling taffy I suppose. Next time you have to carve it out like it was coal. Then if you stick it to something, the wall, bed, clothes, it hardens into a something like mortar. Wouldn't it be really versatile if we could cure the cold and use it to affix bricks as well. See I told you it could be amazing.

So if you don't want to harvest the real thing, here is a recipe for fake snot:
Recipes: Fake Snot !
WHAT YOU NEED:
Light corn syrup
3 Envelopes of Unflavored gelatin
Measuring cup
Fork
Sauce pan
Water
Microwave oven or stove
* Permission from your family to cook in the kitchen, or family help.

WHAT TO DO: Heat 1/2 cup water just until it boils. Remove the heat. Sprinkle in 3 envelopes of unflavored gelatin. Let it soften a few minutes and stir with a fork. Add enough corn syrup to make 1 cup of thick glop. Stir with the fork and lift out the long strands of gunk. As it cools, you'll need to add more water, spoonful by spoonful.

So pick away it could be useful, healthy and the next undiscovered cure of the world. Let the kids eat theirs.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

A new computer

I just bought a new computer! I am so excited I could spit. Well, not spit because that's bad, gross and might hit someone, but maybe some spittle will fly out of my mouth. Um...never mind, I'm excited. I've been working on my dinosaur, Brontosaurus, for about 7 years now. So in computer years, it's about 70 years old. While I am not ready to shuffle it off to a retirement home, it has some good stuff left in it, it is definitely past it's prime. That time was probably about a year ago. Just running my email software program messes with all other programs running. And that's nothing compared to the security software. Egads when that updates, downloads and just checks in for fun, everything grinds to a halt. Makes me nuts.

So when I am working on my website, I have to close down everything but the bones and it still runs like mud. It takes me hours, yep I said hours, to work a few changes on the site. Usually I leave this kind of thing to after-hours or home alone time because it could take me a day or more to work through something major.

I know that I needed a new one about 18 months ago when I received a message that I couldn't run a program because my Operating System was out-of-date. So I did what all good moms do, I ignored it until I knew I had to deal with it. No sense tackling something on the first noise, why waste the energy until you have to, there is always 15 more things that are clamoring for attention. But I have reached that point of no return. I've cleaned and cleaned my disk space, defraged and deleted unnecessary files, but there is no more room.

I remember when 30 gigs was HUGE. Now I am getting 320 gigs...seems enormous, but I know that in 3 years that will be nothing. It's almost like getting married again, I can see the appeal mid-life crisis have. I get to play with something that is new, smaller, faster and more maneuverable than what I have now....ummm...gets me thinking about my husband. Well that's another blog. It makes me giddy thinking about it and I don't even have it yet. So Merry Christmas to me!!! Santa, you are a good man! I can't wait to get the box and rip it open. I know that I will be a lion on a fresh kill, protecting it from other predators...my kids and husband. So now I sit anxiously waiting with my fossil, soon I might be able to put the remains in the gas tank.

Candle are cool!

So I am sitting here working on some information for one of my hostesses that I have for Partylite. I was gathering information for her about the specials for the next few months, working very diligently. What I love is that I am doing the same work as a 9-5'er, but I get to wear my PJ's, yep still have them on, walk around barefoot, and sit in a pile of votives. Why am I sitting in a pile of votives you ask??? Well, I have some older fragrances in their sampler boxes that I let my girls play with and they are scattered all around my chair. They don't stack as nicely as blocks, but they like removing the wicks from them, apparently highly entertaining. I must say that I like the new scent in my office, very nice aroma.

So I am working, emails, research and all that fun stuff. Made some phone calls and started organizing for a show I am doing on Friday. I love this. This is why I do this and why I don't work for someone else any more. Well minus the fact I am overly opinionated and like things my way...well...anyway. I can work around my girls, work for about an hour or so and then come back when I've made the girls lunch and subjected them to their naps. I get to go out on Friday nights and visit, talk and just be an adult...boy, that is really the best part for me. Being an adult. How many times can you say..."Please put that away.", "Don't touch your sister.", "Leave your brother alone.", "Close the bathroom door." before you go a little nuts. I REALLY look forward to my shows. Sometimes I wonder if I scare my hostess because I am really happy they invited me into their homes.

I don't care how big the show is because I get to talk with new people and some I already know..then I get to catch up with them. I love driving anywhere, because it guarantees me "Me-time", which is a precious commodity when you are a Mom. Just going to the bathroom seems to be an Olympic event, must be watched, judged and discussed despite the door you've closed for privacy. I've even hid in my office, but since the house isn't that big, they always seem to find me. Whatcha gonna do?

Plus this outlet gives me a justification for my candle addiction. And to say that I am a snob now would be an true understatement. I find myself sneering as I go by the "store" candles. I really don't mean to judgemental, but now that I know what quality is, I just can't go back. It's like when I flew first class, WOW, it's was like I was a princess riding in her coach. Now tell me, who in their right mind would want to go back to bus? When you know quality, you definitely enjoy it, especially when it's worth the price. The price is always a factor, but I've gotten to the age where I want quality not quantity.

The best part of this whole thing is that I work when I want to. I've been doing this Partylite gig for about 5 years. Wow, it's been that long...who knew? I enjoy just doing shows. I found my niche for now and maybe later it will change. Others do it for the full-time job, but I like what I have. It's allows me to work around my schedule when and how often, how can you beat that? I definitely would not have started this if it wasn't for the fact that it was free to start. I looked at Pamper Chef, Passion Parties, Avon, MaryKay but they all required an up front fee and stock...didn't have and didn't want to put that kind of money into something I wasn't sure I wanted to do. But once I knew that I wouldn't be forking out cash for a Partylite business and I would get free stuff with no real commitment other than that to try it. I signed up. Been loving it ever since. Sometimes I wish I could start over just to get the new kits, they are bloody awesome. A lot of fun stuff to play with. Of course the down side is that I have a ton of stuff, some I give as gifts and some I have traded for other things, like a bunk-bed. But I never have enough candles, burn through them like butter. For professional and private. So I keep myself in business to keep my habit in check. Always a pay off somewhere.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Fabrics, Fabrics, Fabrics

I walk through the door, my eyes take a minute to adjust to the dimmer light from outside. I let the door slide close behind me and just inhale the scent. It is the first thing to hit my senses, a sweet, homespun, medicinal aroma that embraces me like a warm childhood memory. My eyes begin to absorb all the colors, the kaleidoscope is almost overwhelming. I start walking selecting an isle at random, no purpose other than to immerse myself in the moment. My fingers brush the textures gently, I can feel the patterns and colors through my finger tips and it excites me.


A voice calls to me, "Let me know if I can help you."


I smile because I know that I will not be able to walk out without purchasing something. I feel the tug, the need for one of these beautiful fabrics to call my own. A chuckle bubble up from the back of my throat, I am amused that I think I can stop with only one. I nod at the clerk, but continue on my quest.


It doesn't matter what name the store is called, where it is located, it is a mecca to me. The only way to save me is not to go in. But I am drawn despite my best efforts. Sometimes the effort to stay away is more than I can bear and I must give in.


Purples, greens, yellows, reds and more tease me with their own unique energy. My skin becomes more sensitive and responds to the racks of textiles. Each one is special, but I wait, quieting my soul and wait. I know that I will hear the siren call of that fabric, the one I must have. Sometimes I need it for my projects, other times, I just have to have it.


I then become two separate halves of myself. One side lets the color wash over her and becomes part of the design, the other focuses in on the details and begins the analysis for what is needed. That is the side that keeps me on track, keeps me from taking home everything.

Suddenly I stop, my hand stills and I know. This is what I want, what I need. The colors are bold, the pattern dances enticingly across the bolt. My other side decides how much of it I can afford. I contemplate the price and my halves make an agreement, how much I can afford versus what I want. The deal is made. I slide the bolt from between the other creations that it is nestled between.

I continue on my way, hearing the whispering songs of the other fabrics, tantalizing me with their sensuality and beauty. My other side decides that is all I need and I am forced to comply. I shuffle up to the cutting counter and place my treasure on top. My child-within is delighted with my find and eagerly awaits her prize. I let my other side select the quantity and enjoy the moment of my conquest.

The clerk slides the bolt fabric off, opening the whole scene and displays it like an offering to the gods. I hear the bolt thump on the counter and the fabric swish into place to be cut. The rotary knife slices cleanly through both layers of fabric with only a slight whoosh. The clerk folds the rectangle piece of heaven into a more manageable size and calculates the purchase total. I feel my palms twitch, waiting to hold my prize. The clerk hands me slip and the fold fabric, a signal that we are done with our interaction.

I turn to go pay for my purchase but look longingly over my shoulder at the rest of the bolt. I wish I could take all of it home with me. I never know if I have enough for what I need. I let a sign of regret whisper through my lips and turn to continue to the register.

I clutch my fabric to me breast and give the new clerk my paper slip. While I watch her ring up my purchase, my mind begins to imagine how I can use this gorgeous creation. I know that it will begin to take on different hues depending on what it lies next to. I am drawn back into the moment as the transaction is done and I walk out the doors. I feel a tearing in my soul as I leave. I so want to stay. I know that all day would never be enough time, but I promise myself, I will be back. For this is my mecca and I will make another pilgrimage.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Good Ol' Doc

So I took Ayla in to the doctor to see what the "lump" was all about. Yep, I called as soon as I got up and left a message at their office that I needed an appointment today. Did I get it, you bet! They are amazing at the office and Dr. Bridge is a jewel. He has a thing for Jelly Beans, M&M's and silly ties.

The official diagnose (so far) is Cat Scratch Fever, treatment antibiotics. But the rub was that he wasn't sure what it was. Gee whiz, am I the only one who hates to hear doctors say that? Their confusion and stabbing in the dark always worries me. I know they aren't God, but if they don't know, then we rely on their "best guess". I would rather go play at a casino with my "best guess" then throw the dice with my kids health. But that is what I get to do. Play the odds and go from there. Not the happiest course, but a course none-the-less. I like having action, so I guess that's something. Plus, I do trust the kid's doc, he is thorough and thoughtful about his diagnosis and I know if he didn't know or have a best guess, he would find out.

A lump

I found a lump last night. Not on myself, but on my daughter. To me that scared me worse than if it was me. At first I thought it was her little breast bud, but it wasn't in the right place. Then when she kept saying "Ouch" every time I touched it. I thought maybe she hurt herself, her rib or just a bruise, but it moves separate from the rib and under the skin. That is when the greasy, oily, black knot of fear coiled in my belly. My next debate came deciding if I should take her into the hospital, it was late at night. But what could they do with her, it didn't appear to be affecting her motor functions, she could still use her arm and shoulder, it was just a spot that jutted out from her body. A little piece of hell.

So of course I start thinking about the big "C". What ifs run through my mind, wondering of what it is, what it could be, worries that I can do nothing about. I don't want to be one of "Those People". Those parents that realize how truly fragile your child is. Those people that watch their little baby suffer and feel that helpless frustration. Those people that walk that line between what was and what could be. My stomach aches from the knowledge that this could be for her. This could be the road she needs to walk, but it makes me so incredibly sad and angry.

But I don't know yet, and that is the worst. Now I just wait until I see the doctor. Or wait if he can't tell us and see another. I don't know. The potential for what it could be scares me and I hope that I am worrying for nothing, that it's just a bruise or something else innocuous. Now I just wait. And I pray.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Titles

I had a conversation with a good friend of mine not too long about about titles. Not just titles, like Mr. or Mrs., the essences of titles and what they mean to our identity. My friend and I are both "stay-at-home mothers" which means to the outside world, sit at home and eat bon-bons. To other @home moms we are amazing, multi-tasking, dynamos that need monuments or metals for all the unappreciated, unrealized and unrated attention we get.

She was brimming with anger for the responses she had been receiving from people in her life. The disdain others, i.e. doctors, teachers, PTA, family members were giving her because staying at home was "all she was doing".

I laughed at that. Can you believe such malarkey? I can't! My back has never hurt more, my feet have never throbbed more, I have never been more exhausted and I never ever seem to be able to finish my projects. Gee whiz, I bet that's not a problem for people who have "jobs". Who have a title they can bank on.

What we realized in our lively discussion is that without a title to "bank" on (money in the bank), you really aren't considered a viable person in society. If you can't show your worth via income and a title, who are you? After you ask someone their name, don't you ask a person what they "do"? Because we all know that defines the person, more so with men than women, but what we do gives us a facet.

So is being a mommy enough? That is what we debated back and forth and what we both concluded...Hell No! At least not for us. I believe in being at home for my kids with all my heart, but does it fulfill me? Not entirely. That drives me to do other things to fill that part in me that needs more of an identity. Volunteering, creating, designing, doing. That way when someone asks, what do you do...I can answer, how do you mean? In my personal, professional, private, spiritual life?

I watched an interview from a well know journalist (name escapes me now), female, who quit her job to stay at home with her kids. She went on to write a very controversial article about how she loved her kids, but didn't really like them. Well, you can imagine the response that got!!! Oooohh...she was flamed! How dare she say that and what a bad mother she was. What she was trying to say was that, she loved her kids and wanted to be there for them, but they didn't entirely fulfill her. She wanted more, craved more in her soul. I could identify with her.

Ironically the people who are most critical are working mothers. Which I would have thought would be the most sympathetic or more empathic to stay at home mothers. But after watching a really horrific Oprah about the opposing sides, WOW, it blew my mind. I couldn't believe the amount of prejudice and disdain working moms had for at home moms. Made me wonder what side we were all on.

In my wondering I have hit upon a theory; we (moms) are so caught up in our kids and husbands and what their needs are, we forget ourselves. We forget we are and were interesting people before. Before we met our spouses, before we gave birth. We went to college, attended art shows, plays, concerts. We write stories, drew pictures, sang beautiful songs...before. We did so many things before we became "MOM".

We let "MOM" define us and forget that we have a name. We are more than so-and-so's mom, more than so-and-so's wife. We forget that we can be separate than our family. That we have an identity beyond them and separate from them, that it is all ours. But of course, that comes with a price. Guilt. And for some, it's worth paying. But for others, the alternative is creating a headstone for wonderful and dear women that this world should know.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Fast, fast and faster

Okay, I've always considered myself pretty savvy with anything electronic or along those lines. I can program a VCR, wire my own stereo system, write computer programs, and work through a Microsoft issue on the computer...but I have realized, I am reaching that time. You know, that time when you are getting too old to keep up with the tech-life.

Sure, I can text, but it takes me FOREVER. I can even do it on the road while I am driving...(don't tell the cops!) usually finishing a 30 word (all written out, of course) essay by the time I have reached Tacoma. Then I watch my daughter whip messages back and forth like gun fire. It amazes me! There is even a special way to hold the phone/mobile so you can do it faster, I haven't mastered that at all. And, wait for this, I now know I am old...I don't want to. There is going to be a new carpal tunnel syndrome...something like text thumb syndrome or mobile wrist syndrome.

But I just can't get over the spelling! I went to school and even college so I could learn proper English, speaking or writing. Now all I see is Spktxt! Kids learning the quickest way to write, but is it grammatically correct or even spelled correctly? Heck no! Now, I just heard on the news that a school is teaching kids to write words and sentences phonetically...geez whiz, it's no wonder we rank so low on the education ladder. Can you imagine competing on a world level by text writing? Shudder to think so.

So I must say that I am keeping up as much as my deteriorating body can. I can still sit at a computer and work code and noodle out the Microsoft issues, but I don't think I'll ever get a laptop. Those little mouse pads kill me. So as things get smaller, more intricate and faster, I will continue to get bigger across my backside and try to keep up. :D

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Rumors

Nothing infuriates me more than being accused of something that I haven't done...and then being in trouble for it. Ugh!!! I have discovered that even in America you can be tried and convicted on a thought. Not in a court of law, mind you, but in a rumor. The subtltey of it is what is the most cutting to it's power. There is always a grain of truth, especially to get people to buy it, but the teller has so much ability to add what she wishes.

Words can damage so many things, people or situations. Look at many politicians that have lost races or careers based upon a rumor. The story always gets blown out of porportion because it's always more juicy to add your own twist, so then the truth is so mired in bullshit that you can't possilby see what it was that really started.

I watch my daughter navigate the halls of her middle school and see the viciousness of the girls she must contend with. I know this brings out that particular trait within her, just to survive. I see it everyday when she comes home, wearing it like a cloak to protect her while she is "learning". I've read Queenbees and Wannabees and have seen it broken down into it's elements, so on a analytical level, it makes sense.

But what attounds me, we women never grow out it. Every situation I have encountered, there is still that dynamic that surrounds women. Why? There are those who don't play the "game", but they probably never did or maybe they just grew up. I said "we" because I was very good at it in school...so hateful, I look back and wish I could have been different. I know that I can't, I just take it and learn and hope to be a better person and more importantly pass this onto my daughters. So, I'll take this, learn and grow...what else can I do?

Recipe to destroy the world

War will not destroy us...rumors will.

Friday, July 18, 2008

My Friend

How many people do we have in our lives that are truly our friends? A friend that you can call at 2am and they will answer because it's you. A friend that will listen to you blubber, ramble or chatter about anything, because it's you. I guess I am lucky, because I have a couple of people in my life that fits that bill. I can't imagine my life without them. There has been others that have come and gone in my life I had hoped we would be close, but alas no. So I developed a hierarchy of friendship:

Siamese Twin Friend - This is the person you love to hug and talk with. Nothing is sacred, you have both seen the worst and best of each other...and still like them. This is the person who you want raising your kids, the first person you want to tell you've won the lottery, the person you ask when something strange is growing on your body and the person you sign on for your living will. You can't imagine a day without talking with them and they are probably the first numbers before 911 on your speed dial.

Secret-Keepers - This is a person who has probably known you for a long time. Who has one or more delicious secrets on you and you probably have some on them. This person can be a family member, spouse or someone you grew up with. You generally stay in touch with them and are privy to a lot of details in their lives, but not all. There is a line in this relationship, such as, you would call them if you were dying but they may not be the first call. This is still a close and intimate relationship but not as close as a Siamese friend would be.

Live-In - This is a person that you have or are living with. These people can exist as Siamese or below that because living with someone creates a bond that you may not share with another. Sometimes these people can be spouses, friends and/or family members. This is an intimate relationship because you get to see what they are really like when they are not "trying" to impress you...and you them. Where they put their dirty laundry, how much of a pig they really are, do they shower as often as they should, things like that. Despite the intimacy, you both "do your own thing".

Borrower - This is a person you can call if you need something, but keep it between the normal working hours of 10am - 8pm. You have spent time together and generally get on well, the conversation has usually 2-3 main topics that you share. This is a nice safe relationship because it doesn't really require too much emotional depth, it's easy and safe. You can usually borrow things from them and visa-versa, such as clothes, lawn equipment, cars. These types of friends are nice to have as neighbors.

Co-Worker - This is a person that you work with on a pretty regular basis. You are friendly with this person and share general information about your lives. Sometimes you get together outside of work, movies, drinks, etc. This person can develop into more but usually not. You both share a common point in your lives and once that connection is gone, the friendship dwindles. Some try to maintain, but without that daily dose that made the union, it just becomes to difficult and usually drops off within months.

I'll-Drink-to-That - These are the friends you drink with. Usually more than one, because drinking in a group is so much more fun! They are the life of the party, or maybe it's you, but beyond that you have no idea what they are like. Sometimes you see them at their worst, puking or sputtering about life, but you take it in stride because that is part of the party code. You care enough about them that you don't want to see them drink-and-drive.

Dude - This a person you see at different functions, events or gatherings. You definitely know their name and generally like them, but really don't see each other much beyond that. Ironically this can be family members as much as a friend. You share something, but it is kind of distant.

Whoya - This person is a friend of a friend. Comes with a package deal, sometimes with a spouse or another friend. You might like them but when it comes down to it, you won't pursue a relationship beyond where it is.

Parental - This is a person you are friendly to because your kids like each other. Generally you share small talk and visit while your kids play. The occasion you see them usually occur around birthdays, school functions, sporting events, club meetings or at the grocery store. You might remember their name, but have to think about it. These people can move up the list into another friend category but probably not. Backgrounds, personal philosophies, religion usually play a factor into not maintaining the friendship.

Most people float around the bottom of the list, sometimes straddling more than one category, but very few make it to the top 3. Sort of like the cream rising in your friendship. I have struggled with this in my head for a long time. What makes a friend? Why do some exist where they are and some don't? If you don't have people in your top three, what does that mean for you? If you have a lot...are you being real? After my kids, my friends play a serious role in my life, and make a dramatic effect on my life. I have discovered that if I don't get "out" more and expand my horizons then my list of friends dwindles. And to top that...I am getting older, which means they will start to die off as well, so..."make new friends, but keep the old..."

Monday, June 30, 2008

To my daughter, Quinn

Hello sweatheart,

Let me start by saying that "You are amazing!!!" I am in awe of you every day that you have graced my life. I feel so incredibly blessed to have you in my life and to share such a wonderful relationship that we do. I know you think I am corny, but I really do love you and thank God for you!

I cherish the time I have with you, even despite those days when I could sit on you, throw things at your head or just bury my head in a pillow so I don't hear you. :D

I love your smile and how it lights up your whole face, it is so your dad's! Makes me nostaglic for our relationship we had that made you. I admire your quick wit and humor, even when you are directing it at me. I adore the way you still need me, which I know it will slowly decrease as you get older. I am amused at your determination to stump, challenge or just see if you can best me, and you won't until you are old enough to meet those consequences that I protect you from. I am ravaged by the hurt others put on you and those you take on yourself that I can't protect you from. I befuddled by some of the choices you make, but know you need to make them and not to stop you, because then it would not allow you to grow into the woman you are meant to be. I am eager to see what kind of person you will become, because I now see the potential, like half-formed clay that turns into a priceless vase with time and loving care. I am pleased at the choice and thoughts you have expressed, because I know that you are listening and haven't shut me out. I am dazzled at how beautiful you are becoming on the outside, but how beautiful you have been on the inside for as long as I have known you. I am proud of you when you take the "high" road and protect those less fortunate than yourself, despite the fallout, and know that when you don't, you will know next time. I am humbled when you are better as a big sister to your siblings than I am a parent, I learn from you everytime. I am stumped when you switch from my little girl to a woman within 3 seconds and then back again, annoyed with me for not figuring it out, but know that I will catch up eventually. Most of all, thank you for making me a better parent, because I make my mistakes with you first and then fine tune them for your brother and sisters.

I have so many wishes for you for your future, but the most brightest is the wish for you to be happy. Not just to pursue it, but to truly feel it in your soul. To live in the moment and feel the happiness of living. Something so simple, but so incredible sweet. You know those moments that take your breath away, no matter how many breaths you take.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Are you conforming?

I look at conforming as going with the masses. But is it really? I have begun to think that every time I rethink my decision of what to wear, how to cut my hair, where I might sit, who I might see is really more the issue than being a sheep.

Even at my age, I am sucked into the urge to fit. To wear what doesn't receive the most criticism or mockery. To do what is expected. How do I break this??? I like having friends, so would they leave me if I am "weird"? Even as old as we all are? I look at my oldest daughter, almost 13 and see her struggle with fitting in. It is so very important. But then she wants to be unique, but they really can't exist together, can they? I tell her to be herself, but can she really? I don't think I am, not really. So it's hypocritical of me to say that to her. Am I willing to risk it to be be true to me? I think I do, but I don't know if I am achieving it. I wrestle with that every time I get dressed to go out, go be part of a group or even wander around in public. How can I shut off that voice, that concern in my head? Does it ever really go away?

Men???

I know it's an age old question that has plagued the sexes...but the hell! I am just mystified by the way that men think...more specifically my husband. Intellectually, I know that we are different, but truly...that different? I am continually confounded on how much he just breezes through life. It seems to work for him apparently, but it really sticks in my craw the amount of effort he really doesn't put forth and still is able to function. Then has the nerve, gall or audacity to be confused when I get mad or frustrated at him. Which seems to be quite a bit. I am hoping that his confusion is because he really doesn't understand, because the alternative is that he is aware of what a jerk he can be and doesn't care. That is more of a concern for me than oblivion.

A specific situation is our water bill. First be aware that he takes no interest in our bills or finances other than to "bring home the money" or bitch because we are scraping by. So I really don't expect him to suddenly develop an interst...I've gotten past that. But we hadn't paid our water bill, so we recieved a shut-off notice. So I told him, just kind of keeping him the loop, I really didn't expect him to do anything about it. So I made out our bills, took care of what I needed to online and then others by mail. I ended up leaving them on the desk because I forgot to take them before I left on a trip. So there they sat...with stamps and addressed. Did he see them? Of course. So I kept forgetting to put them in the mail or even drop it off...many, too many things going on that week. So I missed our deadline for the water payment. So yep, when I got home there was the notice. And I had the bill in my purse...so I rushed to go pay it. Can't go without water these days...never a good thing. So yes, I am pissed at myself, but really pissed at him. He was home the whole time I was gone, saw the bills that needed to be mailed. I told him about the shut-off notice. But just left it there for me.

I guess the biggest issue I have is that when I forget something, I don't have back up. The ball is dropped and I have to fix my mistake because there isn't anyone else. But when my husband forgets, doesn't do or just doesn't want to do, I get to be there. Unfortunately the things that he drops the ball on are items that just can't be left or we suffer. I would be glad to just let him fall on his butt (and have) but with bills or the kids I just can't. So it frustrates me that he doesn't want to be my back up. Doesn't provide me someone to watch my back when I am scattered or just not doing my best. Isn't that part of marriage? I've always thought so, but it doesn't appear that is what is happening. I haven't figured out the best solution to it yet and probably won't. So do I accept it or get rid of the issue? Ummmm...something to think about.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

White vs. Black

I can't believe that Hilary is no longer in the race. I am not a die hard fan of hers, she just seemed to be the best candidate out of them all. So, I am bummed. I am planning on not voting for a single candidate...I am going to either write in "Mickey Mouse" or leave it blank. Not that it will have that much of a difference, but you never know. Someone else might think me, god-forbid! We could have a movement...the Mickey Mouse club...wait that's been done. How about the Mickey Wikies?

I was looking at my homepage the other day and saw a picture of Michelle Obama on the news section. I realized that Barack Obama has a really good chance of becoming president...ugh! What ran through my mind was whether, now hold on to your seat this could get pretty racist for some of you, is Michelle TOO black for Barack's campaign? So are you asking yourself, am I racist? Nope. Don't really care either way, but when it was between Hilary and Barack, it was black and female. Now that she's gone...it's going to be a black and white issue.

So what I was wondering, is Michelle too black, because Barack is a light black man, which could make him more acceptable to the general public. Even in the Black Community, that is a big deal, "how black are you". The news article was comparing the First Ladies and their ability and it struck me that it might be a undiscussed issue. I know that she is a Harvard grad and that she is accomplished...but that really isn't the issue is it? Just look at the race between Hilary and Barack. Hilary is intelligent, accomplished and has done the whole White House thing, but nooooo that doesn't mean a damn thing. What seems to be more important is whether she can get her vagina to push the button when she has a mood swing. Geez, doesn't anyone know that she is probably menopausal...

If we could judge first ladies on their politics and commitments like their husbands, then all would be fair. But alas, we are but human and when comes to women, we tend to judge more harshly. Because she's a blonde, she must be an airhead, because she's has big boobs, she as dumb as a post, or even because she's a women, she can't do the job. All we know are false, but we are a shallow society. But that will all fall to the wayside if we have a good scandal...oooohhh, a scandal is always delicious. That pretty much trumps all other issues, including but not limited to starvation, flooding, homelessness, abuse, etc...

So for the trivia buffs, here are a list of names of the past First Ladies...do you know their last name? Give you a hint, they are in alphabetical order by their last name.
Abigail
Louisa
Ellen
Barbara
Rosalynn
Frances
Hillary
Grace
Mamie
Abigail
Betty
Lucretia
Julia
Florence
Anna
Caroline
Mary
Lucy
Lou
Rachel
Eliza
Lady Bird
Jacqueline
Mary
Dolley
Ida
Pat
Jacqueline
Jane
Sarah
Nancy
Edith
Eleanor
Helen
Bess
Hannah
Martha
Edith
Ellen

When...

When do I no longer have to remember to cover up my kids at night?

When did I look away at my beautiful little girl for so long that she became a women?

When was it that I became afraid to let my kids play outside in our yard?

When did I start looking at everyone, expecting them to harm me or my kids?

When is it no longer acceptable (and legal) to walk around naked in front of your kids?

When is the quota met for "how many times do I have to tell you?"

When can I stop worrying about whether my belly hangs out and my boobs are sagging?

When can I accept that my toddlers won't shut up and my teenagers won't talk to me?

When did buying a pair of underwear and a bra cause you to think that you are taking food out of your children's mouth?

When did "guilt" become a constant companion in my life?

When did not giving your child a cell phone, mp3 player, Wii/playstation, car, access to your bank account, and a credit card qualify as bad parenting?

When does the curse end that my mother gave me..."You will have kids just like you!"?

When was it that I realized my parents were full of crap? How old am I now?

When did spanking become a bad thing?

When was it that I had money to go play?

When did I stop chewing on my children's toes?

When I get to old to remember, will you do it for me?

When will it be cheaper again to buy a gallon of gas than eat at McDonalds?

When will I have to stop vacuuming because the french fries are growing?

When will we have a president that doesn't suck?

When will we have a government that keeps a better budget than I do?

When we realized that our impact isn't measured in years, but in the people we touch?

When are we going to realize there is a cure for high gas prices, but that would require us not using our cars, can we do that?

When are we going to realize that a chain email doesn't bring you luck or money, just a reason for the people who you forwarded it to a reason to return the favor, in spades?

What caused this?

"Have you figured out what causes that?" is a question I get quite a bit. I have come to hate it. It is supposed to be funny, and of course I shouldn't take offense to it, but it implies that I am either stupid or a whore, neither which are flattering.

Having 5 kids is not a crime against nature or even against the American dream. I truly have to disagree with the 1ny & 2fers (that is what them) who can not seem to understand having more than their little brood. Can you call 1 a brood? Anyway, they look at me with horror in their eyes and offer up that delightful comment. Even more amusing, and I say that with gritted teeth, is the comment, "Gee, you must have your hands full?". Which in polite society is a way of saying, "Gee, can't you keep your legs shut, you rabbit?"

I have even heard as I was leaving the grocery store, "I am glad that isn't me!". Wow! And me with a college education...silly, silly me. If I did not have my little basketball team with me, I would have pimp-slapped her...but then if I didn't, she wouldn't have said it. Yes, I get the irony.

I usually just ignore the really rude people, ignorance is one thing, but you can't cure stupidity. Look who we elected President. Most realize that their hands are full with the kids they have and probably are boggled by the addition of more, so I can let those people slide. I appreciated their comment is more addressed to themselves, realizing that they either wouldn't or couldn't do 5 kids. Don't get me wrong, I am no SuperMom! Hell no. Some days I just get through, some I persevere, some I am amazing, but that is the same with everyone. I am no different, either better or worse than any one person.

God gifted me with these little babies, so He/She must think I can handle it, per the "God gives you what He/She thinks you can handle" quote.

I have come to respect those who have 3 or more, because I know what it takes. You have to be organized and dictatorial, yes I said dictatorial. I have discovered that to make a effective house that runs smoothly and efficiently, someone has to be a dictator. You guessed...I am that person. If you didn't guess it...maybe you haven't met me. I have a strong personality (my husband and friends are probably rolling at that tame word) that seems to work in this envirnoment or maybe I make it work. And since I don't know any other way, then I use what was given to me.

So to all those out there, yes, I do know what causes babies. Yes, we've taken care of that issue, but thank you for asking. Yes, I know I have my hands full, they are my hands. So unless I am asleep or just shuttling other people's children around, then I have a pretty good idea. My shoes, my mile.

So before you insult anyone, walk a mile in their shoes. So that way, you are a mile away, with their shoes.