Reflections between points

I was thinking about where I was ten years ago. This is brought on by the fact that I'm between points in my life. I am going to move to a new place, in two weeks, and return to that place called 'the workforce.' Right now, I'm jobless, and have been for about three and a half years.

Ten years ago, I was preparing to move to England with our six month old Drama and Hubby McRed, who had yet to return from Korea. When he did, we had a few weeks before we left for England.

Once we arrived in England, I was a working mom, with one kid. I ate lunch at this awesome little shop that sold the best lamb kebabs, and it was always loaded with yummy yogurt sauce. I ate lunch with my friend Rach, or Ann-Marie, and we gossiped about our bosses, our men, other people's mens, and just generally people we knew. Occasionally, Hubby McRed would meet me for lunch. Once, I called him and made him fix a flat during the middle of the work day.

I was tired from working, attending college classes, and taking care of an 8 month old turning into a toddler. But I also had fun because of working, attending college classes, and taking care of said intant/toddler. We had friends, mostly male friends, come over practically every weekend, and we'd order Indian food. I loved chicken tikka and the nan bread. Hubby McRed hated Indian food for the first six months, and then suddenly developed a taste for it.

I went to the outdoor market at Bury St. Edmunds with my toddler, and we browsed both the outdoor stalls and the indoor shops. I found the best black Mary Janes and pink rain coat for her, as well as the yummiest farm fresh Strawberries. I'd treat myself to a Cornish pastie and coffee. I adored the cobblestone roads that were closed off on market days, and enjoyed the brisk weather. Sometimes I would walk with her to the Abby ruins, where there was a huge garden you could stroll. I still have the pictures of that place. I loved Bury St. Edmunds. It was small, quaint and adorable.

About every two months or so, Hubby McRed and I would drive up to Cambridge, which was my favoritest place of all, and shop their huge outdoor market, peruse all the wonderful shops and walk the cobblestone roads in the pedestrian area surrounded by old buidings, colleges and abbeys, getting coffees and sitting outdoors watching people spill out of other cafes and pubs. One of our favorite dinner places in Cambridge, was, ironically, Chilis. Drama girl would usually fall asleep, so we'd have a quiet dinner. We never spent a lot of money there, because we didn't have a lot of money, but we always had fun, and always bought a little something.

That was where I was ten years ago.

Now, I'm ten years older, working on a second degree for what purpose I can't really say, with two preschoolers moving to a new place where I hope to work again, find neat places to shop and quaint hang outs, have lunch with people I call friends and build some nice memories so that when, in ten years, I think about where I was ten years ago, it will be those memories that pop up.

It really is time for a change for me, in the sense that going back to work after three years is a change. I think it's the right thing for me, because I'm so eager for it. And lets face it, nobody is eager for something they don't really want. I'm eager to go to a place where hopefully it'll be easier for me to connect with people, and by connecting I mean meet women I can be friends with.

Looking at the past two years here, I see that it was a period of aloneness. It was difficult for me to make friends for whatever reason, probably because it's just hard for any mom who stays home and has just moved to a new place to make new friends. It was also a period were I couldn't focus on any one thing. I blame that on the fact that I was a stay at home mom with twins under three. It was impossible to focus on anything, since I didn't have any time. This meant that the past few years have been rich for family bonding and children rearing, but sparse in personal growth and development.

Since age 16, I have worked. These past few years have been the only years in my life when I haven't worked, except for a one year period where I was in North Dakota finishing my degree. Yes, I said North Dakota. Ask Mel. She was there, finishing hers. That was one year. This was three to four years. I think it was the right thing, to stay home, because the boys were so young and Drama was going through some adjustments in school as we worked to find the right balance between medicine, routine, and special adjustments in how we handled homework and test taking, something all ADD kids have to struggle with until the right formula is found.

But, now, we've got a formula that works, the boys are ready for pre-school, and our budget, quite frankly, is ripe for a second income. I myself am ready for a paycheck, people above the age of 10 to speak to, and well, someplace to go during the day. So off I go back into the big wide world where I will soon be so ensconced in the workforce I can go back to complaining about how much work sucks, as I happily spend the money I make, sucking it up. I intend to cast a wide net. Since my degree andd work history is so varied, I'm almost guaranteed to get a weird, creative job, which I adore.

Just as the last decade has been a period of constant change and movement, I hope this next decade is a period of stability and prosperity.

The plans of others...

One of my biggest pet peeves in life is how some people feel perfectly justified in making plans for other people, this case, other being me.

Hubby McRed is residing in Colorado, yes, this is true.

I, however, with our three children, currently reside in Washington state. We are moving to Colorado, but not yet there. My current plans involve packing, calling utilities, and preparing to move. I don't have any plans for when I'm in Colorado other than: Move in, get daughter set up at local school, unpack and start looking for a job. This, of course, is after a week staying at Hubby McRed's mother's place. That in itself is not bad. Actually, it is bad, but for her, not me. I feel for her. It's been decades since she's had young'uns running around. There are no plans beyond them volunteering to do the occasional help me with the kids or babysit at some point or another.

I am not interested in making other plans. This is a lot as it is. It's a huge move, it's a huge adjustment for the kids, and it's going to take time to settle into a routine.

Other plans are being made for me, however. Now, these plans sound wonderful, until you put them in context with the situation and oh, what I want.


There are offerings of, when we first get there, others taking the children for the night so Hubby McRed can run around and pretend we are single. GREAT! You are thinking. What's wrong with that?

This follows other suggestions. The first was to buy an overpriced home of a friend's we couldn't afford. The second, after a very annoying phone call at 1:30 a.m. resulted in the brilliant suggestion that someone fly out to Washington for a few days to be with me and the children, that someone not being my husband, and in fact, not being someone I'm on the best of terms with. The third was a silly notion of classes to learn a card game so presumably we could meet and play cards.

The visit, of course, never happened. I'm not taking classes to learn how to play a card game. And of course, we're not going to buy an overpriced home we can't really afford.

But the last offer is great, right?

Well, lets see.

I'm not in Colorado yet. I haven't moved in anywhere. I haven't settled things. We haven't closed on the house yet, the one here or there. This means money is tight. There's no way that a get-a-way is going to relax me when there's still so much going on, and I'm not really sure we have the budget for it. Maybe in a few months, but not in the first few weeks of just arriving. It's just how I am. I need to settle first.

The preschoolers don't know these people. It doesn't matter they are relatives. Turbo and Bear haven't seen these people since they were less than a year old. So essentially, we'd make this huge move, leaving their familiar home behind, and then mommy and daddy would drop them off at a 'new place' and take off, and they'd be stuck with, well, strangers, who have no idea how to care for preschoolers (we have huuuge differences in discipline.) Or am I the only person who thinks of things like this? Not to mention, none of the issues I have with these people are anywhere near resolved. Apparently, I'm supposed to pretend nothing happened, hand over the kids, and call it a night because everyone else has ASSURED me everything is fine now. /boggle/

The other issues with these people haven't been resolved. Hubby McRed assures me that they are different. Yet, they seem to be the same to me. I wanted a week or two to adjust and settle a bit before having to handle these 'issues.' I'm not convinced they have changed. I wanted to go slow, to really take things one small step at a time. How else could I trust this sudden converstion? The first step they want to take, is to take the kids for a night at a time of their choosing. And it's not just an offer. They will repeat this 'offer' over and over and over ignoring all the "no's" until it becomes a fight.

Well, I'm not doing it.

Relationships aren't so easily mended (especially when they've been so utterly mangled with disrespect and pinheadedness) and I'm not stepping into the exact same pattern I was tossed unwillingly in the last time. This time, things will go slow, and I'm not dumping my kids on people they don't really know for a 'getaway that isn't really a getaway, but just me worrying for 24 hours about the kids, the house, the budget, the new school....

I mean, lets start with a dinner first, let the kids get to know you.

Of course, Hubby McRed supposedly TOLD them this, that we needed to go slow (he probably did) but this is the response? To totally dump invite after invite, obligation after obligation on us? Ugh.

Yes this is purely a rant. But, these people drive me looney, and I don't care who you are, you don't change in two months.

Thursday night dinner

Eggs are evil for you.

Ham is salty, and bad for you.

Tomatos aren't bad for you. But when you fry them in egg and ham residue they are evil.

Tonight's dinner was a yummy ham steak glazed with brown sugar and apple cider vinegar, eggs, over easy, and yum, fried tomatos.

I didn't think anyone would really go crazy over it. My family is pretty blase about food. My preschoolers generally only familiar with scrambled eggs loaded with cheese...

Turbo and Bear gobbled up the eggs and ham, not so much the tomatoes, and Drama whined there wasn't more ham. Well, ham is pricey. I mean, I just got a small, fat slab and I thought it was overpriced, even on sale!

Go me.

As it is, they upgraded my blog. There's LOTS of new features. I so don't have time for new features.

Yay

It looks like we get the place we want, and our house is good to go as well.

Yaaay!

Lots to do now, busy busy... not to mention a three page essay I need to write for one of my classes... ack.

Will post something more substantial later!

But before I go, let me share my happy thought with you....

Sedated Cats.

Yep. We're druggin' those bad boys, and gal.

'aint no way I'm drivin' with meowing, crying, clawing, pathetic whimpering cats to Colorado!

Monday

We find out if the people accepted our inspection terms, and if the home Hubby McRed found for us is ours...

Wish us luck!

My Poor Shows

So, in my quest to find shows I absolutely love, I go to the BBC shows that finally get around to being aired in America or sent to Netflix. I loved As Time Goes By, Keeping Up Appearances, and Are You Being Served. Currently, I enjoy watching Hardware and sometimes Spaced, kind of have to be in the mood for Spaced but when I'm in the mood it's hilarious.

I was surprised to find I absolutely loved Balleykissangel. The first three seasons were great. I couldn't wait to get the new disc! And the last two shows of season three, um, devastated me, as much as a show can. I couldn't believe it! And of course, no one I know even knows the show exists much less watches it, so I'm going to go on about it here, so if you WANT to watch it, which I doubt, because I'm the only person I know who gets addicted to these shows, don't read.

See, the show is a story about an English priest who goes to a small Irish village, and is just about the daily lives and tribulations of village life, viewed from an outsider who has a position of responsibility. I loved this show. I loved Fr. Peter Cliffard.

The problem is, he was the catalyst character, the one that the show needed to have perspective. He was also one of the strongest characters. I loooovvvved this character. He was a good priest minus his minor falling in love with women thing, and of course, you can't have a priest on television without having a crisis, and he did. He stort of fell in love with the pub owner chick, Assumpta. After three seaons, which would normally last three years, but for me, using Netflix, lasted more like three months, the attraction between the two and the deep, intense feeling, that stayed platonic the whole time (not a trashy show) finally culminated in a major decision. He was going to leave the priesthood and she and he were going to marry. It was real, it was wonderful and it was sweet.... until she gets electrocuted in the pub cellar fixing her fuse box... /boggle.

Never mind my opinions on the convenient death. How was I supposed to know the actual actors/actresses were leaving? The point is, her death I could take, how sad, it was riveting, the crisis, the misery, the anguish, it was well acted, I felt for him. Sad. It was really riveting. But I figured, I just figured that he would use this loss and become totally devoted to the priesthood.

Ummm nope. He left the show. ACK. How awful!

Like, what about me!

How can I watch the next three seasons? The whole show was based on these relationships between the townspeople and the priest and how he helped them, the young married couple he helped, the pub regulars, the local garda, it was great. I was totally involved with these relationships. I loved how he interacted with everyone. But no. He left.

So now, I'm bah'd. I'm just so bah.

This totally happened with Monarch of the Glen, too. The first three seasons were great. Archie MacDonald was key. Then he left.

I just dont have televsion show luck. I hope it doesn't affect BSG, because if, say, they killed off Helo or Apollo, or Adama turns out to be a cylon after all, I'm so done.

I mean, all my leading men just end up disappointing me.

So bah humbug to them all!

The inspection results...ta daaaa

There were 11 things on the inspection list, and they want 3-11 done.

This is what I agreed to do:

Clean gutter and downspout.
Clean and service furnace.
Fix the gas line on the water heater at the thermostat control.
Interior missing doorstops (Have them, just need to find them ha ha)
Interior handrail (I have it, I just need to reattach it)

Here's what I offered them $500 to do themselves:
Exterior handrail
Gate (like honestly if I fix it it'll fall down by spring)
Attic needs better ventilation and more vent holes (huh? whatever.)

Here's what I said hell no to:
New faucet in kitchen due to leak (It doesn't leak all the time, it's one of those thigns where occasionally you have the water on and sometimes some comes out of the faucet thingie)
washer and dryer at end of operable lifespan.

Well. Go buy yourself a new washer and dryer. I am not buying you one.

They should say yes to it, there's nothing unreasonable about telling them to buy their own faucet and washer and dryer, and basically I don't want to bother with the attic. They can when they move in. Though frankly, I bet they take the $500 and don't ventilate the attic.

So I should know Monday if they accept it or not. I'm sure they will, since the only unreasonable thing they asked for was the washer and dryer, they were probably just hoping. But their realtor, really, should have told them to leave it off.

The age of curiosity and religion

Tweens are very curious. I hate calling them tweens, because it implies fashion, selfishness, drama, and a sense of ditziness. The truth is, tweens are nowhere near teenagers, really, they only pretend it. They are still kids, big kids, but still kids, in the sense that they are curious about everything. This is the age when schools should have kids do experiments, rather than tell them about experiments. The age when schools should be introducing kids to cause and effect, and have them actually make the connections, rather than, oh I don't know, teach them how to take a multiple choice test.

Anyhow, religion is one of those things children get curious about.

Now, I have been woeful in this educational aspect with my daughter. It's not that I don't have any thoughts on the subject, I do. A whole lot of them. Some of them not completely formed, others pretty solid. I grew up Catholic, and tend toward that belief because it's part of my history, my heritage whatever I have left of it) and part of who I am. It's also one I know, and can navigate. We (meaning I) did take her to church before we moved, but haven't been since.

My problem with religion isn't God, or belief or faith. It's what religion does to God, belief and faith. I am more inclined to the spirtual side of it. My problem with religion is its institutionalization. I intend for my daughter to gain an understanding of religion. She has a bible and she's read numerous stories out of it. I've answered questions, I've explained some things about what we believe, but I failed to do with her what my mother did with me, which is regale me with lots of stories and tales, which happened to be religious. In light of this past week, I realize this is something I need to tend to.

My daughter has a new friend who's religious conviction I tolerate, in the sense that it's fine for her to have it, but I do not condone it in my daughter. The religion in question is Jehovas Witness. She had another friend who was of one of the evangelical Christian churches, and the same thing happened. These are not our religions, by far, and my personal belief is that you can try to convert an adult all you like, but trying to convert your children's friend is a definite no.


My daughter came home with a bible study guide. Now, you understand, that Bible study guide isn't going to make it to Colorado. Because I read it, and it's part Bible, part Jehovas Witness teaching. The thing of it is, she should never have been given that book, because I don't condone that religion. That drives me batty, anyhow, I'm not so insecure I can't deal with it. By throwing it in the trash. I mean, she does have her own children's Bible, and I've decided to do what my Aunt did with my cousin, and just read her a story from it each night. Except the ones that preach total obediance of a wife to a man. That, I swear, has been pulled out of context in the Bible, and out of context, has been used to preach that women should just do what they are told for countless years, and I won't be having any of that for my daughter... anyhow again, moving on...

The thing of it is, I believe my daughter should be allowed to question everything, and faith should be sincere, but she should question it, because the only way to get answers is to ask questions. And I always intended to teach her my belief, to ensure she questioned everything, partly to alleviate fears of her blindly falling prey to a cult or worse, that even more insidious and ever-present real threat, 'friend think.' So asking questions in life, religion, education is good. I will argue with anyone who tells my daughter to believe something without questioning it.

The problem of it is the religion. For the longest time, I wondered how I could teach her my faith and beliefs, and how I merge that in with the stricter doctrine of Catholicism (which, interestingly enough, I happen to disagree with some of it). I've avoided it simply becaue I haven't worked a way around it.

I think I need to just make a start of it though. Somehow. Because I'd rather teach her my beliefs than have her pick up a hodge-podge mixture of beliefs from the playground and other kids' parents...

Crap.

Ideas anyone?

Still Waiting

The inspection was Tuesday. It's now Thursday.

Now, this isn't a lot of time to pass. But considering they accepted hte offer on Sunday and had in an appraiser and an inspector in on Tuesday, and got the report Tuesday, you would think they would have gotten back to me by now.

Nope.

Realistically, there probably isn't much. We had an inspection done when we bought the house and I think we made them service the furnace and something minor. They do, technically, have until Tuesday to get back to me, 7 work days, but I can only think that if there wasn't anything major they would have sent it back already with the request that it be fixed. I've been known to be wrong.

So of course my mind is going into overdrive. They changed their mind and are using the inspection to get out of it. There are bats living in my attic and I just never knew. There are birds nests, too, next to the bats. They are nitpicking and will expect me to fix everything. Oh I don't know. I just remember that we got back to the realtor that very day, the day of the inspection. These people want to move in March 6. They moved fast with everything else. What are they waiting on?

So. Overactive mind acts up and thinks up pessimistic thoughts.

Argh.

Inspection inspection...

I am a patient woman.

HA HA HA HA HA HA

Anyhow, I'm doing everything I can to not frett about the results of the inspection. I mean, they check EVERYTHING. I"m dreading it, because I always expect the worst case. Which is not realistic, but hey.

The appraiser also came by today.

I mean, is it me, or are these folk moving fast? Like, did they have them lined up already? They did just accept the offer Sunday, I mean, sheesh. It took us a couple of days to get the inspector and a week for the appraiser!

So hopefully, my realtor will come over tomorrow with the results and it won't be too awful. The house is only ten years old.

Bah.

Moooom

I'm almost ready to write again. I hate that i've taken a break, but the stress of house selling, moving to an undisclosed location in Colorado (I am so not fretting about that, Hubby McRed has that responsibility) and everything that that entails, I've not written.

I think once the inspection is done (tomorrow) I'll be suitably calm to start.

In the mean time, this blog, of which, I've noticed, usually harbors grammatical errors and misspellings galore, will have to do.

Today's theme is, hmm, bossy attitude isn't quite the word, neither is Mr. Sassy Pants, maybe "Just Who Do You Think You Are Bud?" is more apt.

Turbo has some new questions and phrases for mommy:

"Moom. What are you think your doing?" (Said in the same way I say it when I find them tossing cat food all over the place like confetti)

"Mooom. What are you doing to the truck?" Said with a strong emphasis on the you, while driving over speed bumps. Like it's me, personally, making the drive bumpy.

"Moom. I don't know. I just don't know." Neither do I bud.

"Mooom. Frackkin frackkin crap car mom." (I thought that one went away, I SWEAR I only said it once and I didn't think they could hear, and no, it wasn't fracckin...).

"Mom I want a Mcdonald Donald Yellow French Fries." Said every time I take him to the store.

"Mom I'm fine." Usually said while crying, after he got hurt. But he's fiiine.

"Mom I'm sorry." Said for absolutely no reason whatsoever. I think he may be apologizing for actions he will commit in the future, from tomorrow until like, 45.

"Mom I Love You." Said in the same soft sad voice he says 'i'm sorry' in. Yeah, I know, this one's gonna play me.

"Mom you funny." Said out of the blue whenever he's amused at something I do. Take note, when he says this, I'm not usually trying to make him laugh.

My favorite from Bear is "What's the point?"
Bear doesn't have too many favorites. He's not experimenting with words right now. He's too busy testing boundaries and limits.

Our newest creation is the "Daddy Come Home" countdown calendar. We got a posterboard and stickers. I made it into a big calendar and they colored it, all over it. We even got Drama Girl involved. Then we put stickers on today. Every night before bed, they will put a sticker on it, as a countdown to the day daddy comes home (Feb. 23 for those wondering).

My only concern is how to break it to Turbo that he's losing his side of the bed... It's not that Turbo goes to bed in my bed. It's just that while I'm sleeping the bugger sneaks in and crawls in, and I don't wake up until morning when Bear comes in for his morning snuggle around 6 a.m. Bear comes in and dozes for an hour or two, but Turbo usually slips in late at night and is clever enough not to wake me.

p.s. Tonight's Old Time Star Trek, you know, the William Shatner one, (Go Capt. Kirk you da Main Man) is the one with Abraham Lincoln. This one's a chipper one, not the tormented one suffering from a great malaise of the spirit that history claims.

House: Pending Inspection

Yep, that's right. I accepted an offer above our asking price, with us paying closing costs (which they added to the asking price, which is why they offered above our offer, but details details...)

Then we offered the second party a back-offer which they can accept, but it doesn't obligate them to actually buy the house if they find something in between. They may or may not accept, my realtor, who I now luff so very much, said it's 50-50, but that she's done tons of back up offers that actually close.

If I want to be petty, I can tell the neighbors I sold my house over the asking price, but then that would just give them faith in their overpriced homes, none of which have sold yet.

Interestingly enough, the one other ReMax home in our neighborhood, a rambler, sold within a month as well, and it was priced correctly. (Yes, I went to the website and viewed what homes in our neighborhood were actually selling at for the past few months, because I want my house to actually sell.)

Now, I know that it's not sold til everything's signed, but I'm sure the appraisal will go fine, and I'm sure there won't be anything major in the inspection. But to be smart, I'm not calling up utilities and such until after the inspection because you never do know what surprises might pop up and bite you. Maybe none, maybe one, but I know enough not to go packing and leave before the inspection is done.

Hubby McRed is over the moon. Now he knows he'll see us, and that for real, we're going down there.

I'm over the moon too.

Ironically, and this will make you laugh...

The ORIGINAL people who put an offer on the house, the one I countered, called my realtor and told her they'd be getting back to her today and were still thinking about it.

Ummmm.

There's a reason that there is a deadline on offers people.

So wish me luck and that the appraisal and inspection goes well!

We're off to Colorado. We're off to Colorado.

Now I have to help my daughter deal. She's moved too much as it is /sigh. But that's what happens when you are rootless, I suppose.

News News News

I have no one to call.

So I must blog.

I will be looking at two, yes, TWO, offers on my home this afternoon.

This particluar family, the story of which I regaled to More Gravy, who never updates her blog, is long, and I have followed it with interest the moment they stepped into my home and I actually felt a change in the atmosphere in my home coming off them in waves, sort of a mixture of pleasure, excitement, and desire. I had them pegged as potentials. They came back the next morning, Saturday, and were sending in an offer that night.

What I did not expect was the ten minute, only been here once, 6 p.m. visitors, young single woman, (buying a home on her own, you GO girl) and her boyfriend who's allergic to cats, explaining the ten minute visit (I have three cats). I'm wondering why, around 8, my realtor hasn't called with the details of the offer, when I get a bizarre phone call asking about a clarification on the buyers form and I'm like, no WAY dude...

My realtor calls me at 9 to confirm.

So this afternoon I will be looking at two offers.

Go me. The first one is already 3K above the one I turned down. 3K is 3K. Haven't seen the second one, but my instinct says that if they are both similar, than every other offer after would be similar, and I should just take one. I could counteroffer on the closing costs, but I have to decide if the risk is worth the loss. Hubby McRed apparently is desperately missing his family, which is sweet, and may be worth letting 5K of closing costs go, but yeesh, 5K is 5K (see? I'm awful). BUT for those who think I'm being greedy, every other home in this neighborhood is 15-20K higher than mine, and smaller.

I am not sure if I'm going to counteroffer. It depends on the second offer. The last time I didn't counter offer, Hubby McRed, well yes. I just wish people would at least pay half their own danged closing costs.

And in retaliation for a very late night drunken phone call from certain individuals, yes, plural, down my husband's way, I didn't tell him we had two offers til he text'd a message at midnight. To which I text'd back, two offers, I win...

He hates it when I know something and he doesn't. Even if it's silly gossip. So yes, I know.. I know, petty and childish, but sooo worth it.

Escapist Reading

Okay,

So we all know I'm stressed.

Hubby McRed is over the fact they didn't accept our counteroffer and after some grumbly words to me and some passionate words unrelated to romance back at him, he realized I'm right. Duh.

I mean, I even got stopped by the Neighborhood Patrol on the walk back from Drama's school and was asked, 'Why is your house the lowest one in the neighborhood?' To which I made up several nice replies, and held my personal opinion 'Because my realtor is the only one who seems to have done a proper market analysis of homes in our area, and we priced accordingly, while your realtors are shoving smoke up your arses insisting that your home really isn't overpriced....

Moving on....

So at my sister's advice, I am engaging in some 'escapist' reading, seeing as there is nothing I can do about anything in my situation. I mean, it's not like I can drag some folk over here, and make em buy my house with a reasonable offer. I can only sit and wait. She recommended I read about Marie Antoinnette... Um, No. She's never really fascinated me. Now my sister is reading "The Mayflower." But I'm past her. I"ve already done the fascination with Pilgrim thing and moved on to a fascination with Prairie life and settling on the frontier, which has since waned. Nothing has yet taken it's place, so here is my February Escapist Reading:

The Last Kingdom -- Historic fiction, about how King Alfred the Great united England against the Danes (Vikings),by Bernard Cornwall.

How the Irish Saved Civilization -- apparently the Irish saved civilization, by Thomas Cahill.

Knight of Darkness -- Total guilty read, something a guy who's a lord of avalon and Merlin's assassin, I'm sure there's a love story and sex in it somewhere, by Kinley MacGregor.

Outlander -- Some nurse gets sent back in time, falls in love with Scottish barbarian Highlander who spanks her, definitiely love story and sex, but lots of historical detail, by Diana Gabaldan.

Mother Teresa, No Greater Love -- This may just be guilt-inducing, but who didn't like her?

The Friday Frett

List of Friday Fretts, and it's only 10:15 a.m.

I haven't heard from my realtor yet regarding the counter-offer to the crazy low offer. I'm assuming this means they didn't take it. I left her a message. I'm fairly certain they said no as the offer expired, however, I'm fretting over it, regardless.

Saturday, the moon is in Virgo. Saturday is also a big house hunting day, particularly since Sunday won't be, due to the Superbowl. When the moon is in virgo, the masses tend to be more picky and critical. So, I will have, astrologically, large groups of picky and critical people coming through my house noticing all the 'details' which, in my house, are not 'nice finishing touches' but more 'oh crap, here, maybe we can cover it up with paint.' It also rules contracts and such. This means nothing. But I'm fretting over it, regardless.

I have two classes from my master's program that started last week, and I blew off the first assignment (getting to know one another) usually that doesn't result in a major grade blow off, and I did introduce myself, late, but now I have to be really good for this second week, and read the actual texts and post, and I'm too fretty about the house to concentrate on school. So I'm fretting about it.

I have to do the bills. Duh, fret.

I have to do the groceries. I've made a committment to lose weight by eating healthy (since 80 percent of any weight loss program is dependent on food) but I don't know if I've got it in me to be that good, I mean, I"m going to go all out, veggies, fruit and tons less starch and bread (hello, Carb Addict here). So I'm fretting about it.

I weighed myself on the scale. Now I'm fretting even more.

I suddenly want to finish my astrology course, which I've blown off for three months, and it's totally not a big deal, but all the other fretters out there know that once you frett about one thing, it's never enough, and you have to find more things to frett about, so I'm fretting about that, too.

I'm secretly fretting about something else, of which I've only told one person, and it's driving me batty. It's something totally out of my control, but I want it to happen, or I think I do, I'm pretty sure I do, and so I'm fretty about it.

Anyone have anything else they think I should frett about?
Requests taken...

13 Rambling Thoughts

In no particular order, random thoughts I've had today:

1. Why did my mother have to be the mother that told her daughters that wearing a bikini was how you got pregnant?

2. Why can't I find the place on Technorati that does hit counters, and have to be the idiot blogger that uses both technorati and site meter because it's all just too much and I've just had it with this danged contraption.

3. How on earth am I going to lose weight when I'm always hungry?

4. After your insultingly low offer, 18K below our asking price, and my reasonable counter-offer asking you to fork up at least another 7k, what is their to discuss that is taking so freakin' long, it's yes or no people.

5. Where are my boys?

6. I want to babble about the latest, most ironic, and interesting thing, I'm a set to burstin' to tell, I wanna share, I do I do, but it's too much emotionally, and it's most likely not a thing that may work out but a distant hope, or more likely, the universe frakkin' with us again. Someone Up There has a bizarre sense of humor. But how mad are Ed, More Gravy, M, and et al going to be mad at me if it does manifest and I tell them after?

7. Is multi-grain spaghetti really that much healthier than regular ole spaghetti?

8. I'm home, alone, with three children, and about to open a beer. Does this mean I'm a problem drinker, since I'm not socializing with another adult while drinking, or can I count the fact I'm blogging about it socializing, or is the fact I'm blogging about my drinking a beer, that I really need right now, just a cry for help?

9. If I said it was a cry for help, would someone send me more beer?

10. The comment in six is in no way related to anything involving pregnancy.

11. Do I HAVE to play Mall Rat with my daughter this weekend, since I've weasled out if it twice already and she's totally forgotten I was supposed to play? I mean, is it okay to ignore the fact that she sets it up and sits alone in her room pretending the cat is playing? Don't I have enough guilt from just being a product of Catholicism?

12. Isn't there a religion that doesn't require going to church? I don't mind the God bits, or the Saints and stuff, but that hour in church once a week is such a committment... (I know I know shuddup)

13. What is French Provincial?

The Minds of the Young

"Look, look, Daddy," says Bear, pointing to the picture of Daddy above the couch.

"Daddy wants to come out, mommy, daddy wants to come out of the picture," Bear tells me.

"Yeah, yeah, Daddy wanna come out," agrees Turbo.

Uh Oh. This is clearly an indication that the boys' patience with Daddy being gone is running out. Time for a reminder.

"Do you know where Daddy is?" I ask Turbo.

"Daddy there," says Turbo, pointing to the picture. "Daddy wanna come out."

I look at Bear.

"But where is the REAL daddy?"

"Colorado!" yells Bear.

"Yeah, yeah, Colorado," says Turbo.

"And what's he doing in Colorado?" I ask.

"Buying Bash more french fries!" exclaims Bash.

"Daddy got to Colorado. Daddy gotta buy Bash more french fries," explained Turbo. "Bash need new french fries."

"Daddy is working in Colorado, buddies." I say. "Do you know when you'll see him? You'll see him in March." This is when Daddy is going use Stepdaddy's frequent flier miles to visit.

"Yeah," says Bear. "I wanna march with Daddy. I'm gonna march march with daddy."

So glad I could clear things up for them.

Media and Mom Bashing

Shame on our media. I mean, they do what they have to to make the ratings, right, but shame on the women who work in media and propogate mom-bashing. How dare they, the judgemental, perfectly-coiffed employers of nannies...

Yeah yeah I'm talking about that whole big horrible revelation about MOMS that have a DRINK during PLAYDATES. OH MY GAWD.

Nobody mentioned FATHERS that have a DRINK during FAMILY EVENTS while they are watching children. Apparently, the penis appendage makes them more responsible. Which is funny, really, because I always thought it was the other way around. The thing is, the Superbowl is coming up... Why aren't the media doing an article on how men drinking beer during the Superbowl and eating high-cholesterol chicken wings and gorging on chips and dip is WRONG because the children are home? What kind of an example are they giving their sons? That BEER and HOT WINGS are okay?

I don't care if women get together and have a glass of wine during an afteroon playgroup. Frankly, I wish my mom's club did that. I'm not mad at them for not, they do have a charter to follow. Most of them wouldn't care, I mean, they do small 'out of mom's club' groups open to all but that are a bit more liberal (Movie Night, for example, the charlatans).

I guess the thing is, they take this very one reasonable story that could easily be a story about mom's saying 'We are human, we are still people, we retain individuality, and if we liked wine before our children were born, we like it now, and we're just going to occasionally have a social afternoon with a glass of wine because Moms are People."

Instead, the media goes nuts... "WILD DRUNKEN MOMS VOMIT IN SANDBOX DURING PLAYGROUP" I mean, I've never seen that headline, but you know you KNOW the media was just wishing they could find someone who did...

Instead, media moms, who I'm sure are total non-drinkers, seriously, if I ever saw any of those media moms with a drink in their hand, I'd ask how they could possibly do that to their child. No it doesn't matter if the child is home with the babysitter/nanny, you have to go home and take care of that child. With your inebriated on one martini self. Shameless floosey.

No, the media moms do the worst thing to Stay At Momhood than anything... they (okay the one on the Today Show) compare us to BABYSITTERS. Like, we're babysitters? That's it? Not mom's, just babysitters? We should treat our children like our babysitters do? We should hold us to the standards we hold our babysitters too? WTF? First, our standards for babysitters are usually slightly generous in that we know it's a limited time, second, omigosh that women did not dare suggest that we are like babysitters. She said, but if it were your babysitter, how would you feel?

Um, well, my babysitter is paid to work, I would hope she's not at a social hour. I wouldn't even approve of her going to a mom's playgroup frankly, because playgroups half the time are about the moms. But the babysitter isn't the 24/7 caretaker, the moms are, and they don't get paid. The child is integrated in every aspect of our lives. The babysitter is more than welcome to leave her paying job of babysitting, and go and get sloshed with her friends down at the local Applebees Happy Hour for all I care. I, as a mom, and an adult, and more than capable of having a glass of wine without losing all faculties.

I bet working moms would get a different reaction. Everyone would assume it was okay for a working mom to have a drink. Because working moms are people. But more importantly, working moms are media moms, and I have a very hard time believe those media moms would state on television how it's not appropriate for them to have a drink at social events.

After all, they are moms too, no matter how they try to pretend that working somehow separates us. A mom is a mom whether the mom works or doesn't work, and I wish the media moms would take a stand for mommyhood instead of continuing their lovely little bash against the very women everyone declares has the hardest, and least respected job, of all, um, next to teaching... stay at home moms.

I had a mom who told me once, "Society is very good at paying lip service to mothers, talking about how important being a mother is, and the value, but they are very poor at really believing it or treating mom's as valuable."

Way to go Today Show, showing us how you are just another media outlet intent on bashing moms for some ratings. Course, I don't watch the Today Show for precisely these reasons, BUT I did read about it and watch a clip on another blog. My favorite is the psychologist with the broken record 'we need to find healthy ways...' yeah yeah yeah.

A Beautiful Day

It was nice and sunny out, and not at all wet, or cloudy. It was sweater weather.

So after a hectic morning of cleaning, cleaning and cleaning for people to come look at, but not buy, my house, I dropped Drama Girl off at her friend's tenth bday party at the local questionably-reputable bowling alley and took off for the library with Turbo and Bear.

We got distracted by the sparkling blue of the man-made lake and pretty green grassy hills of the park up the road from my house, and upon hearing cries of 'the water the water' I said, do you want to go there?

Like, duh Mom.

One left turn later, we were in the parking lot and headed toward the water where we, in no particular order: Walked along the edge of the water, went down the slide, lasted ten seconds on the swing, threw rocks with mommy in the water, splash, splash, plop, mommy is bad at skipping rocks, walked on the dock because it looked like a bridge over water, with mommy doing the death-grip-hand-hold maneuver, saw a leather (letter? leather?) back sea turtle and talked to it, (rock sculpture of a turtle) walked along cement edges, ran up and down green hills and got our shoes muddy.

THEN after an hour of that, we went to the library for another stash of train books.

It was a gorgeous day.

Drama is still not home, but the birthday party is over and she is spending more time at her friend's home. It should be a totally quiet evening.

Realtor update:

I had four realtors visit today. No one took the offer packets.
No one wants my house.
ARGH.

P.S.
Whoever keeps track of the hits on their blog, which counters do you use? Any recommendations?

so sad

not one viewer today, a Saturday.

I so sad.

The House of Finance

Sooo

The three-time viewers like the house.

They just aren't sure they can afford it.

Ummm.

Excuse me?

Did you miss buying a house 101, where it states 'get preapproved before house hunting?'

I mean, if you don't know whether or not you can afford a home, and haven't bothered doing the preapproval, then all you are doing looking for homes is wasting your time, and more importantly, like, mine, because I've gone out of my way to get out me and my three kids out of your way while you come through my house, expecting that you can actually afford to buy it.

And, I know I'm just uber grumpy about this because if they COULD get the financing and they decide they can afford it, they will put in an offer. HOWEVER, there is a very real chance, finances being a funny thing, they won't get preapproved or they will decide it's too expensive.

So I have to write them off.

We were also someone else's no. 2 choice.

Bah to them.

I haven't even been doing this for two weeks and already I've gone insane. I am never going to be able to keep this up for two more weeks, never mind months...

hep.

Buy Me, Dammit

Now,

Those of you who know me won't argue when I say, I am a patient person.

I know it takes time to sell a home. I know it's hard. I know it's a pain letting people traipse through your home, pretending you don't really mind, when the truth is, you don't really mind providing they won't stay past five minutes unless they are really intent on the place. I know all of this.

So I know that when a person returns a second time, it's usually to finalize a decision, yes, no, eh.

And that's hopeful, but not really exciting because eh, no offer, no joy.

But when someone comes, then sends the husband, that usually screams, I like this one. And you would expect then there to be a decision. Not a third visitation. With the father, or father in law.

Anyhow people.

With someone as patient as me, the thing you don't want to hear a realtor say, is the following:
"I've been here so often, I just had to sell your house."

Had. As in, past tense. Yes, he said Had. What does that MEAN!

I mean yes I know what it means, it means, he is supercalifragilisticexpalidotiously sure they will put in an offer.

But of course, to me, it is horrible. ARE they going to put in an offer? Tonight? Tomorrow? Are they going to think about it for a few days? Are they going to bring the Mother, mother-in-law and fifth cousin in first? Or are they going to out of the blue change their mind altogether? I've been around long enough to know it 'aint done til the papers are signed and money's in the bank.

PEOPLE, I am dying here. Buy me. Don't buy me.

But for the love of all that is me, Don't TEASE me!

p.s. the cigar smoke does mask the cat litter, but was frowned upon by my realtors, so I am sticking to Febreeze, ahh, that's nice.... pricey uber-masking fragrance.

Ah, three year olds

Turbo:

"help help"

"help help the bed."

"mama hep me the bed."

Bear:

"Momma, gotta help Turbo with the bed."

Uh Oh.

Go to find Turbo. Under bed, with bed mattress on top of him.

"Maama, hep me, I'm stuck under the bed."

Well.

Why didn't you say so?


"Oh my dahlin Oh my dahlin Oh my dahlin Clementine"

"No mom I'm Bash."

sigh

"Oh my dahlin Oh my dahlin Oh my dahlin Bashentine."

The house, and it's oderific inhabitants

Da kitty litter.

I thought that by taking the litter to the garage, it would solve the problem of people without cats or dogs walking in and realizing the place is running rampant with kitties.

I have gotten favorable feedback on my house, with two people 'considering' it. Now frankly, it means no one from this week's visits will put in an offer. They viewed it on Saturday mainly, and it's Monday. If they haven't put in offer in now, it's probably because they are not interested in this house. booo. I mean, we would view homes, and then make a decision. We didn't take 'days' to consider it.

But the one comment she did get was they could smell the cats in the basement... YIKES. Now, when I bought the house, I spent weeks trying to get urine pee out of the carpet in the corner, and it's barely perceptible now. I mean, I think their cat used that corner quite frequently to urinate. But I didn't think they could smell the odor from the garage... yeesh.

Any odor defeating ideas from pet owners, aside from 'throw the cats out?'

The Colts.... won?

And other inconcievables.

First, okay, lets give it to Manning. If he didn't make the Superbowl this year, I do believe he was going to make an appointment with a very high bridge.... I mean how many lost AFC championships? What does great quarterback ratings mean when you don't even have that bling ring?

However, sob sob, no Pats this year. You can't blame either team, they both played really well. Not like the Bears slaughterfest of the Saints.

Now, who will win? Bears? Colts?

I think the Colts will beat the Bears because they have a better offense. I think the Bears have a great defense, but their offense isn't as strong as it needs to be going against a very hungry Manning. Saying that, it should be one fun game to watch.

Who will I root for?

I don't know!

Things I've learned this week

I am not capable of distinguishing smoke-beige from pink-beige, as evidenced by the fact that I painted part of a pink-beige wall smoke-beige, and realized for the first time, since I have moved in here about two years ago, that my basement is not painted with one color, but is painted with two...

You should never, under any circumstances, save left over frosting in your fridge, I don't care if you can store it up to two weeks, the truth is, you won't frost another cake with it and every moment it sits in your fridge, is a temptation because in your mind you know that in the fridge there is a container of cold, chocolatey frosting just waiting to be.... you get the point.

My initial gut reaction that snow on the ground, though now less than an inch, would deter any Washingtonian from coming out and looking at homes has been proven accurate by the lack of phone calls I've received, though i do have two viewings on Saturday.

Little Miss Sunshine is an oddly funny movie. I didn't think I'd like it.

I have discovered the source of my love for oddly-devised gowns that no one actually wears or ever wore, and I've never actually owned... Star Trek... apparently, my idea of beauty and what beautiful women wear, has been influenced by the slinky outfits alien chicks in space wore....

I also have discovered, William Shatner has never really had a proper six pack, yet still, was hot when young.

Sanford and Son plays eternally on TvLand

On TvLand, right now, Capt. Kirk is cuddling with some Indian princess, because he's forgotten about the Enterprise...yet....aggaaainn... cuz he so easily gets distracted...but first he'll save the planet...because yet again, they think he's a god...

My all time favorite game ever, Pats vs Colts, is playing Sunday, and I will only be able to catch the second half... and i'm just sad about it.

Bear understands McRed is in Colorado. Turbo corrected Bear, and informed him he was in a tree. Who knew?

I can lose an entire pound of coffee in my kitchen.

I am too easy on my sons because they are cute.

I am too easy on my daughter because after five minutes of conversing with her I give up.


Favorite conversation of the day:

brrring brrring

"Hello?"
"Why the hell did you call me?"
...hmm voice sounds familiar, who is this.... sounds like....
"Dad?"
"Did you call me?"
"No."
"Are you the bank?"
"No."
"Then why did you call me?"
"I didn't call you."
"You're not the bank?"
"Yes, I'm the bank."
"What do you want?"
"You owe me money."
"So you didn't call me."
"Yes, I called you. I'm the bank, you owe me money."
"Your mother wrote your number under the bank."
"Cuz I'm the bank. Give me money."
"What do you want?"
sigh "Nothing, our house is on the market now."
"Yeah, I know that already. Your mother wrote down your number under the bank. Christ. Now I have to go find the number on caller id and find out what the hell it is."
"Love you dad."
"Yeah love you too."
Click.

See, my dad DOES call me more than once every three months....

Pro-cra-sti-na-tion

Did I do all the touch up painting?

Did I clean?

Did I take off all the painters tape still up?

Nope.

Why not?

Because I'm a procrastinator!

So what will I be doing tonight, after the game, because it HAS to be done tomorrow?

Yup.
You guessed it.

Snowy March and April

So the last line of a weather report for Denver, Colorado explained how Colorado's early snow, yes, early, as in, January snow is 'early', might solve some of their drought problems, especially since March and April are typically the snowiest months.

What?

I mean, yeah, I expected a snowstorm in March, you know, one big one to end the winter, but apparently, no, April is snowy, too. April Showers implies rain, but in Colorado, it's 'snow.'

I wonder what I can grow there?

I wonder if I'm truly ready to return to a life of winters... I mean as much as I say I miss snow, there is something to be said for, you know, just enough snow to snap a few pics, call it winter, and hang up the gloves for another year.

We had some snow last night. Took the munchkins out for a walk in it and told some adults, yes, adults, to keep their kids out of my yard. They weren't just walking past, the kids were sitting on my lawn making snowballs and tossing them at each other, while the adults hung out on the sidewalk in front of someone else's yard. Now, I personally teach my children to keep out of other people's yards, unless you are visiting. If it were just kids, I would have sent them on my way. Kids are kids, I wouldn't yell or be mean, I'd just say, hey kids, outta the yard, there's a park down the road.

But the adults? They were SHOCKED. Yes, shocked, that I told them to keep the kids out of the yard. Manners? Maybe they were just shocked somebody said something to them. Though I think another adult also told them to you know, get lost. I mean, go play in your own yard, and barring that, the park down the road.

As it were, and I know that above paragraph made me sound, curmudgeony, but this just screams 'old.'

The children are sledding down the middle of the road.

The same road that has a speed limit of 25 but people routinely do 35 down. Yes, it's the back of a neighborhood, yes it snowed, however, many people still drove to work, and there is still traffic. I don't care if you can see all the way down the hill. It's dangerous and dumb.

I'm the only parent in this neighborhood that feels this way. Again, though, as I walked past a couple of kids doing this, I saw two moms put their little preschooler/kindergartners in a sled, sat behind them, and sledded down the middle of the road.

This boggles me. It's not like we live on a hilly road with three people and all three people are home and outside. It's not like they are sledding down a hill onto a road that no one uses. No, they are sledding down the middle of a hilly road, that hasn't been plowed, and is slippery and icy, so any cars coming down the road don't have as much, say, brake power or control. This is not a country neighborhood, either. This is a neighborhood in a city. Ugh.

Last time it snowed, becauese every year it can snow from 0-3 times, my daughter, Drama, came in gushing about how she sledded, and when we inquired as to where, and she told us, McRed and I smiled, and said she was never allowed to do that again, and we didn't care that there was a parent with them.

All parents wonder why their children do some of the things they do. But these parents, don't they understand that by teaching their kid it's okay to sled down the middle of the road are sending a message that doing dumb, dangerous things is okay? Or is it not dumb and dangerous and I'm just being silly...

I remember as a kid of about 12 riding on the hood of older friends cars, it was transport from the bus stop to our home... and I should specify, older brother's friends cars... and this went on until the moms caught us, and I mean, all the moms... and didn't that just end right then and there.

I wonder if some of these moms would be driving the car with the kids on the hood...

Dang that TLC television

I started watching the TLC special on that women who had six children from one marriage, and then she married another guy and then had three sets of twins with one set in neo natal care.

Anyhow never mind the six kids from the first marriage. Just put that out of your mind, yes, I know, it's hard.

Three sets of twins.

I had one set of twins. I could forsee trying to get pregnant again, because it's not common to have more than one set of twins. Well, I could forsee getting pregnant again if I didn't already have an elder kid. Three seems to be enough for now. The point being, say I did try again, and had another set of twins. Obviously, I'd laugh and cry and cry, cry some more, and then cry, but I'd also spend a lot of time picking out another name and getting excited, and yes, there'd be enough love for the extras, but...

Let me tell you what would happen next....

Hey, Honey....

SNIP SNIP SNIP....

There would be no other chance that I could potentially have a third set of twins.

The woman has 13 kids. She could open up her own little one room school house.

So then I changed over to Supernanny, with the five rambunctious boys that are so rotten the parents want to divorce.

My kids are so angelic.

But hey, they are on Supernanny so obviously they really want to try.

I wonder if I could get my kids to misbehave enough to get her in my house, just you know, for a little help while I'm getting ready to move....

But I can't handle not knowing what is happening to the poor little babies in neo natal, so I had to switch back to TLC, since one of the babies has a hole in his heart...

This is why I don't normally watch TLC.

A Conversation

"What is moderation?"

"Moderation is not eating three-quarters of a pint of Haagen-daaz. Don't even THINK of asking for ice cream for another week."

I left out the start of the conversation, the part where I discovered my tween ate three quarters of a pint of haagen-daaz... right before bed... on a school night no less!

Moving on...

Go Pats Go... they can so make the Superbowl. But they are playing Chicago. In Chicago. Yeeks.

I was supposed to spend the day cleaning for the realtor, but, and actual ADULT came over today, and we watched football. So I"m cleaning the house tonight. And doing some light painting. I'll be up forever. Which means, I'll have to finish up tomorrow, which means, I may not get to start the gym til Tuesday.

I can live with a one day delay.

Isn't this multi-color thing annoying?

Writing... Am writing yes, tonight, no, cleaning, much cleaning. Writing must wait til tomorrow. /sigh. So many good ideas tonight, but, realtor, house, must sell....

Informed Hubby McRed that when he came home for a week in March, his friend, whom I'll refer to as ADULT, offered to help do the landscaping and house stuff. This is my way of letting Hubby McRed know that, no, it's not REALLY going to get done while he's gone becaues um, I'm not like, a construction person, and my one attempt at using super adhesive construction glue resulted in an hour of applying 'Goof Off' to my new floor.... Oh, and that it's been raining forever.

broke, so broke...

I wonder how many people are as broke as me.

I mean, it's a rhetorical question. But we are recoving from that slight whole 3-month-unemployment stint. And the income is welcome, but sheesh. Until we sell the house, we're going to be tighter than size 4 jeans on my happy ass.

Budgets are great when you have room to well, budget.

I remember scenes from my childhood. Mainly, 'yes, we mailed the check' half-truths responses to the myriad of bill collectors calling. We're not there. Nor are we at the 'credit counseling' bit where you throw your credit cards at them sob 'i can't take it anymore' and they cut your payments virtually in half and solve it for you while you just cut one small check for a few years. Tempting, but not there yet.

And it's this big secret, right. Because listen people, we are the ONLY ones struggling here. EVERYONE ELSE except us, has it peachy....

Okay I do know that's not true. I'm tempted to buy the total money makeover book with a gift certificate I have to Barnes and Noble, but not sure the book is worth the money until well, we actually HAVE money to fix the budget with.

So that's what I'm going to tell the bill people.

"I'm sorry, the budget is broken, however, as soon as the correct parts come in, the budget will be fixed, and we'll be able to help you." Parts being money.

So back to hoping the house sells soon! I meet the realtor on Monday, and am hoping that my house will be the exception, though it's not 'exception' quality... I mean, you have three kids, three cats in a house decorated for three kids and three cats, you'll know what I mean...

It's Friday, the wind and rain is pommeling, Colorado is getting MORE snow (I mean come on, I hope this isn't a new weather pattern that will last the entire time I live there) and the light in all of this is that my fence won't get knocked down. Because you can't knock down a fence that's already down. You can kick it, but you can't re-knock it down.


Bear and Turbo are in my bed.

"Momma momma" they called after the wind pommeled the windows...

I go to their room and see them standing in the doorway, matching Thomas flannel pajamas *yay I got them to keep their jammies on* Bear cluthching his "dee-dee"

"We need to sleep in momma's bed"

so on the way there... Bear says... 'mommy it's stormy out...'

awwwwww

Defeated by the cute.

Meatloaf aghast, cottage pie, alas

Last night's dinner consisted of... mashed potatoes.

Well, meatloaf really. I LOVE meatloaf. I mean, people, ketchup was developed solely for meat loaf. It's the best thing for a winter night meal. Yummy. Meatloaf and mash. I mean really, what is meatloaf, but ground beef mixed with stuff? With a side of mash? It's the perfect meal. With gravy even!

So why is it, the same family that will eat ground beef in s'getti, tacos, chili, macaroni and cheese, hamburger helper, rice, etc etc, won't eat it in the form of meat loaf? What is this objection to one of America's classics? This is the quintessential 1950s meal, clearly a perfect meal since it was developed in such a perfect quintessential time. We love retro. We love quintessential. So what is this 'I don't like meat loaf' thing? Even Turbo and Bear, the little hungry bears, only ate the mashed potatoes. It's not like I did anything funky to it. Make the meat loaf. Bake the meat loaf. I think my children may be too picky. But they need to get un-picky. Becuase sometime in the year 2007 I intend to be back at work (lots of wanting to buy boots going on here) and I am not coming home to make fancy schmancy steak dinners or other gourmet fare.

Yes, my children make me sad. But the only thing I have to say to them is, I won't make meat loaf again, but you better get used to casseroles.

So tonight is an old stand by I KNOW they will eat. Shepherds Pie. But recently I discovered that what we in North America call Shepherds Pie is actually Cottage Pie. Shepherds Pie is made with lamb. Either way, it's yummy. The kids eat it. It's not meat loaf. It's easy. I mean, like, the easiest thing ever.

You can find the original recipe but basically toss some onion and ground beef in a pan and fry. Add corn. Or, if you forgot to buy corn, mixed veggies. Toss it in a baking dish. Make some instant mash. Layer it over the beef. Sprinkle with cheese. Bake. Eat.

Yum.

This dish I always intend to use for two nights, but my family goes through the whole thing in one. Tonight I'm trying a more English version of Cottage pie.

Now if only somebody could tell me how to make a pasty, and a cheese and onion pasty and mmm they are sooo good, but no recipes for them. It's hard to define it too because I know I like cornish pastys, I don't know what the cheese and onion ones are actually called. Try putting 'yummy cheese and onion thing with maybe potatoes in a pasty thing' in google and see what you get.

Spicy tea

That's my new hair color.

Let me recount this brief interaction with my mom.

Me: "I'm dying my hair."

Mom: "Oohh what color?"

Me: "Spiced tea, a light auburn."

Mom: "That sounds nice. Why are you coloring it?"

Me: "Because my hair is dull, boring and mousy."

Mom: "Oh. It's not your hair that's dull and boring, it's your life. Changing your hair color won't fix that."

pause

Me: "No, but at least my hair won't be dull and boring anymore."

Mom: "Well, that's true. I'm sure it'll be nice."
.......

Anyhow,
It's not nearly as spicy or tea-ish as you'd think. It is nice though. Better than dull mousy brown. My sons accepted my new hair color because I gave them a simple explanation.

"Yes, mommy painted her hair red."

The red hair, which is really more like a red tint on my mousy brown hair, is my response to 2006. I, apparently, went through 2006 with the same attitude as my hair color. I am rectifying that in 2007. I'm going to be spicy. I'm going to be tea. Chai, Vanilla. To be exact.

I made no new years resolutions either. I refuse to commit. I do plan on going to the gym again because I did see myself in some photos, and man do I photograph fat. With a double chin. If people can't learn to make me look pretty in pictures, than I'm going to learn photoshop and start altering them. Because I see myself in the mirror and while I have my pale days, and do sport a couple of unwanted pimples (AT MY AGE!) on a ghastly does-the-sun-exist pallor, I do not look fat! And my double chin is not that prominent! Oh but on film, on picture, where it'll be recorded.... I hereby am banning pics of me.

Now for the house stuff.

I contacted a realtor via email. I love email. No voices. The truth is I'm not ready for one to come by til AT LEAST NEXT YEAR er Monday, because I have some MAJOR cleaning to do and some touch up painting (all the baseboards) and I know they will be like 'paint this, fix that, do this' and the answer is 'no money, sorry, can't... as is sale, yeah it sucks' but it's not that bad I don't think. I just have a real estate agent thing. See, they are sales people. I hate sales people. Even when they are working for me! I get grumpy around them. This is why I'm horrible around them. Plus, I really can't do anything more to my house and I know i'ts not in the BEST shape, so i'll take a few hits, but you know... as long as it's on the market I guess. Though my fence fell down again. The neighbors DID say they'd fix it. Then I propped it up, and they didn't. Now that it fell down again, maybe they will fix it. Or it'll have to wait til spring when hubby visits and is handed a 'how to mend fences for dummy' book....

Now lets all take bets...

In this crappy market, how long will I be here?

Ta and Good Riddance 2006!

The New Friday Night

Well,

Sci Fi Fridays are over... no more Dr. Who /BSG combos until Jan. 21st, which is a Sunday, while SG1 and SG Atlantis take over on Fridays, um I think.

Not the point though.

The point is, now, tonight, I have planned a nice, child-free night.

Order pizza.
Stick the buggers in bed at 7:30 because they didn't have a nap.
Sit down in front of BBC America and chill out to My Family and Hardware, and when that's through, watch my Monarch of the Glen and Are You Being Served Again DVDs.

While eating Ice Cream.

Because honestly, this is what I'm going to be doing every weekend night until I get this #%*#( house on the market and sold, I might as well make it a tradition, and make it as cozy and fun as I can. Man, do I feel for the single moms that aren't dating or going out and having a social life.

And there is nothing more that I love than a good veg night of my favorite sappy shows and ice cream. Oh, and Baileys, but that's expensive so I'm rationing.

And if you think this sounds amazingly boring, and this is the dullest post you've read next to, say, the last post...

welcome to the current installation of 'my life'... i'm hoping it gets more interesting too.