The Alone Shopping Trip

This is not a hugely exciting thing for most people.

And I warn you, if you are male, stop reading now.

Unless you're obsessed with shopping.

Moving on... most people can occasionally go shopping alone.

Wait, if you're not really interested in a riveting discussion about clothing purchases, leave. Seriously.

Shopping alone -- for clothes, I mean. We're not talking slipping out of the house at 7 a.m. to grocery shop without distraction. A key ploy if you're trying to only buy what's on your list.

No, we're talking about shopping.... at one of the modern takes on the old classics, outdoor malls. Remember, indoor malls replaced main street shops. Now, apparently, we all miss cavorting in the weather at outdoor main street shops, so we've developed outdoor shopping malls that resemble main streets, only without the real 'street' part, now they are more like cobble-stoned pedestrian zones... so not the point.

I do prefer them, though, I enjoy fresh air, and when the weather is crappy, those coffee shops and outdoor fire places come in handy.

I had three hours to go shopping. See, here's the thing. I lost all that weight over the last summer, and fall and now, I have no summer clothes. Not one pair of shorts. Hardly any t-shirts. No capris. No skirts.

It was bliss. I actually.... tried things on. I felt like I was in my own private version of What Not To Wear. I carried a coffee around. I was uninhibited by cranky four year olds and a 'why can't I get stuff too' tween.

Oh, and while trying things on, I noticed something shocking.

I went down another size.

Yah. Who woulda thunk!

Now. Clothes. I'm petite. Not, 'petite and can float away like a feather' more like 'petite in a short squat way' and yes, while I've only got the eternal ten pounds to lose, something in my genetic make-up prevents me from being lithe and petite, making it not only possible, but understandable, when I am confused with either a hobbit or a dwarf, or a miniature troll.

But a cute one.

And considering how my sons eat, it may be hobbit.
But then if you watch me run, troll.
But my daughter has a temper of a dwarf.
Hmm.

Anyhoo.

I've gone and been all angsty about Target before. They just don't make clothes for short hobbitty people. Their tops are too skinny to fit around dwarven boobs. Their pants and shorts are not made for bubbly troll butts. Don't even get me started on the shoes and hobbit feet.

I DID find a pair of shorts that are a bit tight but wearable, and two cute tops by accident, and some adorable hats. BUT for the most part, I can't 'shop' there. I don't do Wal-Mart. For the same reasons as Target, AND the clothes there fall apart on me after two washings. I did all my husband's shopping at Target.

So where do I go? J.C. Penney's clothes have become real crap, in the petite's section anyhow. I don't know WHO is picking out their petite lines, but it might just be my great Polish grandmother Olga. (This is not a Polish joke, it so happens some ancestors of mine were Polish, possibly more so than they ever admitted).

Macy's is too intimidating. I can't stand walking into a store and being so overwhelmed with so much clothing, walking by adorable things, hideous things, 'career' things, 'athletic' things and then have to find the one little corner of clothes that fit me. (Sad, I know.)

So I DO know if I had a job, I"d probably go to Talbot's petites. My sister does and she says it's a nifty place with secret treasures for shorties.

But I don't.

I need park clothes.
Backyard clothes (despite not having a back yard).
Walking clothes.
Casual not frumpy clothes.
Clothes meant for a thirty-something nearer the forty-something end of the spectrum.
Jogging pants with PINK slapped on the butt are not going to cut it. (I don't own any, btw)

I wanted to be trendy. But J. Crew is too cute, and I just never could get into cardigans and argyles the way my too trendy/cute sister does. I mean, argyle? Ugh. Drown me in some Prepsville why don't you. Plaid hasn't been in and wearable since the 80's. I can't get away with grunge flannels, because we're not in Washington anymore.

So yes.

I have three staples, and they are dull, the stores are filled with predictable clothing. They aren't too big. All their lines use the same colors so they are easier to match (trust me, this is key. I have the fashion sense of a troll). They all have petite clothing. They all last years, rather than months.

But they are pricey.

This is why my wardrobe is smaller than my husbands wardrobe.
I couldn't justify spending as much as I wanted.

But, for the first time ever, I shopped SMART. I actually tried on everything, and only bought clothing that I would actually WEAR.

So my take?

Clothing that will last me all summer, next summer and the summer after.

What I could not do?
I could not spend $175 (HOLY CATS BATMAN) on a pair of flip flops. I went to the walking store, and after the man told me these shoes would last like, a decade, I realized I had a pair of shoes from the store from two years ago, and by my count, they have at least 8 more years to go. So maybe in 8 years I'll buy a pair of $175 flip flops.

I did go to the Famous Footwear store to get Hubby McRed some shoes. He's worn through all of his.

So I went to J. Jill, and bought the uberest cute walking shorts. Like wow. They touch the knee, which is perfect, because my main complaint about shorts is how they show thigh. I mean, if you have a great thigh, go for it. Me? Not so much. I then bought two shirts that go with the shorts and other stuff I own. Yes, I bought clothes that go with existing clothes... wow. I wanted a pair of $70 linen pants, they were so cool, but they were $30 too much for pants I almost but not quite loved, though they totally spoke to the frumpy lazy bones inside of me. If they go on sale, they are so mine.

But first I went to Eddie Bauer.
I bought a performance skirt with little slits in the back for movement. It's sooo much cuter than shorts. I don't hate shorts, I"m just very picky about shorts. This is a total casual wear to park, to shopping to anywhere skirt. Then I bought a shirt that matched said skirt. And a short sleeve hoodie so adorable and comfortable I didn't want to take it off. I also bought matching shorts. The shorts are very compatible to all the shirts I own, so score. I avoided the capris, because as a short person, they tend to make me look shorter. I DID find the RIGHT pair of capris, but they didn't have my size. Bugger all that. I bought flip flops in a cute butter scotch that I barely justified, and a cute summer dress that More Gravy found for me online. I tried it on. So cute.

And that's it. Like, I know some of you are in two camps: Of COURSE you shop at those stores, duh, the clothes are better quality and last longer. And the OMIGOSH those shops are so overpriced I go to Marshalls and Target and other places and have NO PROBLEM. I justify it by shopping these places, buying less, and feeling mildly bad about it until I realize these clothes actually look good on me.


Wow.

Go me.

This is the most boringest post ever!

What do you expect when my life is like, seriously, ONLY this exciting?

Summer List -- Things I will do this summer.

A List of Things to Do this Summer

This summer's To Do List: Keeping it short and simple, cuz it's SUMMER people.
What is YOUR summer to do list?

1. Read insanely long classics.
2. Learn how to do a website.
3. Learn how to use new fangled camera which allegedly will be my graduation present.
4. Get Bear to go in water.
5. Get Turbo to go underwater.
6. Learn to swim, take three.
6. Help Drama learn multiplication table by heart (she's like, going to middle school... ack)
7. Lose Ten Pounds.
8. Overcome fear of grilling.
9. Paint two bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen.
10. Raise beautiful container tomatoes, peppers and strawberries.
11. Explore the green way walking trails (some of us have 'walking down walking trail' issues)
12. Find cooler music to listen to.
13. Give up Diet Coke, take 323.
14. Figure out how to program cell phone.
15. Keep house clean enough to enjoy summer.

Things I will NOT do this summer:

1. Kill basil plant.
2. Give up on Crazy.
3. Gain 10 pounds.
4. Let Kooky, the loony neighbor, get on my nerves.
5. Drink more than one frappacino a week. (We all have issues).

So that's it.

My Wednesday What I'll Do This Summer list, for people who like lists.
In the fall, we'll repost to this post, and see what I did, or did not do.

Tah! I have non-school things to do!

Things to do

I have things to do today,.

And no one to chatter to about it.
So here it is...

Followed by a LIST for More Gravy, who is addicted to lists.

Errands, if you will.

Post office, to sell back the last school text books I will ever ever in my life ever need to buy for myself -- While at said post office will mail 'hard copy' binder of last project to last instructor I will ever have to deal with in my life, (for school) thereby officially ending the last bit of school work I'll ever have to do for the rest of my life. This is the final bit before the official 'graduating' bit.

Great Clips, because buddies need hair cuts.

Bank, to deposit the IRS refund check that accidentally didn't get directly deposited due to a minor error oopsie daisy me.

Grocery, because I ran out of half and half for coffee and paper towels for picking up dog poop in the house, thank you Crazy, thank you very much.

Library, because I really need new books to read, to replace the other ten library books I didn't read.

Pet store, because someone is out of canned food.

Target, because Hubby McRed needs new shirts, and he, unlike me, can wear Target clothing.

Breakin' Out

I have a plan.
I'm gonna break out.
Somehow.
I don't actually have a plan yet.

I'm just gonna find a way to break out.

And no, I don't mean with pimples, or some strange skin affliction caused by an excessive amount of orange juice and pistachios, but I think that was really just hives brought on by nerves but never mind that.

No, I mean, I'm gonna break out of this here mundane, uninteresting life.

I'm going to lead an interesting life... one that doesn't involve little boys missing the toilet with their poop and then falling off said toilet into the puppy pee no one told me about, screaming for help while said puppy ate said poop... not that sort of interesting life. I've had enough of that interesting life.

Certainly not one that involves Drama Girl exhorting her will at the lab and refusing to get her blood drawn while screaming, that's not the sort of interesting I mean.

Nor do I mean interesting tales of being the mom of Pee Wee Drop Outs. Or being the mom of a water-phobic Bear who thinks pools are giant tubs for monsters, not that sort of interesting, either.

And I don't mean interesting in the way that my psychotic kook of a neighbor calls me up on Day One of my owning said poop-eating puppy to bemoan the loss of civilization as we know it because Lahdeeda got a puppy and OBVIOUSLY isn't the sort of woman who'd take care of it, and could I take Cujo the Killer Rabid 30 LB PuP Who Strikes Fear in the Hearts of Anthills Everywhere out the front door (no). That sort of interesting I'm done with.

I also don't mean the sort of interesting where Hubby McRed announces that he is going on a business trip, in three days, and will be gone the weekend that both of my papers need to be written so I can graduate. That's not interesting, that's just a special form of hell invented just for me.

I mean the sort of interesting that makes people want to read about my interesting life without having the same effect as they would watching a train wreck. You don't want to watch, you can't help yourself, but boy are you glad you're not on that train!

The sort of interesting life that involves making strawberry jam and taking cute little pictures of it with cute little blond haired toddlers and I don't care if you used a little powder gel pack and it was easy peezy Ms. More Gravy, it was quintessentially quaint.

I love alliteration.

I mean the interesting sort of life that is filled with little interesting happy little facts.
Say, maybe this summer for instance, Bear will go in the water. That would be interesting, and photographic. I could photograph things. I could photograph quintessentially quaint little moments. It could be a new hobby.

The sort of interesting where I announce on my blog that yes, I again am writing another novel and it's just CRANKING away. (The first novel is done, is a kid's novel, and I don't know if I'm going to edit it, seeing as it's the first one I've done and needs a lot of work, but I'm not making that decision yet.)

Which if I think about it, really is only interesting to me, since writing itself isn't really interesting, until it's done.

Okay, an interesting sort of life where I actually go on vacation somewhere. (Not this summer).

The interesting sort of life where my tomatoes actually grow and can be used. Once I buy said tomatoes, of course. And peppers. In this OTHER interesting life I'd successfully grow peppers and tomatoes in my containers on the back successfully (we don't have a yard, which is nice, because I CERTAINLY don't want the sort of interesting lawn stories yard's entail, which I did in our previous home).

The interesting sort of life where when I take my dog out, she doesn't howl like a rabid manic looney bin at every other dog, cat, creature, that walks.

The interesting sort of life where I go out to lunch with my book club and I'm not so giddy at the prospect of adult conversation that I actually speak coherently.

The interesting sort of life where there's actually a good reason to get to plucking my eyebrows (I hear thick is in this season...)

The interesting sort of life where I have this hobby that positively makes me giddy. Like writing, but that doesn't involve being inside. An outside hobby. Maybe hiking. I'll go hiking with the kids. And the dog. The dog can fend off vicious ants while the rest of us all run away from bears. Maybe I can take up fishing...

The interesting sort of life where my sons have suddenly lost all capability to whine.

The interesting sort of life where I am okay with not knowing who the final Cylon is. (Gaeta, Zarek? Me? Who? aaahhh....)

And where I have other things to do besides wish Dr. Who would pick me as his next traveling companion.

Which really tells you how inherently UN-interesting I am.


Okay...

so what I really seem to want, is quite a boring life....

Hi, from the Dog

Hi,

My name is Crazy. I'm a dog. I'm an aussie-cattlehound-mutt-mix that drives my new mom absolutely freakin crazy, so that's her nickname for me on the blog. She won't use my real name, because I told her not to.

I live for it.

I'm writing this blog for her because she's super angsty right now. Something about two last papers that she just is dying over and the other girl here, the one she calls Drama, is doing a project on Giant Pandas that she knew about for a month that's due tomorrow that she started tonight...

Drama loves me, but those others, Turbo and Bear, they don't seem to enjoy being chased much, don't know why, and why do they have to be so grumpy, I'm just trying to give them good morning hugs, they are my faves because they have so many tasty crumbs around them!

Mom is really mad at me because I pooped in front of her door and at six months, I should really be over it. I did stand there, for like EVER, how is it my fault she didn't see me? And how is it my fault that she JUST took me out and I didn't do anything? There was the scent of bird on the wind, I got distracted!

So just saying hi. She'll be back soon, she just needs to get through the weekend mainly, and next Monday and Tuesday and she'll be done.

Where have I been?

Nowhere.

Just trying to get through one more week of a major pain in the ass class.... and two final papers....

Stay tuned for news of... gasp... the DOG.....

in the mean time, since I'm so sketchy, check out More Gravy, she's been updating her blog regularly, with PICTURES! and is becoming quite the blogging pro.

In the meantime.... WISH ME LUCK!

Paper paper on the wall

That made no sense.
But it doesn't have to.

My friend at More Gravy sent me a clever link to webs created by spiders on different substances. Note the one on caffeine.

That is mine.

Apparently, I can do great outlines, but details, due to the amount of caffeine I imbibe, are out of the question.

This may explain the problems I'm having with my paper, so I may dutifully inform my professor that I am incapable of providing more detail due to my caffeine affliction.

I say affliction, rather than addiction, because I'm not addicted to caffeine, merely afflicted by the absolute need for caffeine based on my present circumstance: the last month of school forever if I can manage to not blow this last class.

Why, you wonder, have I chosen to educate my loyal following of more than five but less than 20, on the performance of drugged spiders?

Why, because I'm Precrastinating!

Although, 20 out of 25 pages of this paper are now done, so there has been SOME work going on. The sad truth about procrastinators and precrastinators both is that, yes, at the end of the crastination phase, one must actually get the work done....

Duck, Mannequin

Taking four year old boys to a shop designed for 12 year old tweens is never truly a good idea, but like other moms who can't afford nanny's, or babysitters, I had no choice.

I promised Drama girl ONE outfit from Justice, this outrageously overpriced store stocked full with tween dream clothes, knick knacks, trinkets et al, all with cutely dressed tween mannequins.

I did a decent job of pretending to be able to control my sons, admonishing them when they were about to do something particularly destructive, but for the most part, I just wanted Drama Girl to HURRY UP.

I had both of the boys right BEHIND me, and they were behaving well enough that I turned to Drama girl to look at an outfit she picked out.

I'd turned my back on them for about 20 nanoseconds, not surely a full second, when I hear a soft, 'aahh' and then, a louder ahhh which was about to turn into a full fledged cry. I turn around and see...

....


My son's head stuck between the legs of a tween mannequin that he had managed to topple over onto himself in 20 nano seconds. His fingers were UNDER the mannequin thing.

So there he was.
My son.
Head stuck between the legs of a tween mannequin wearing skorts and a cute sleeveless matching top, hand stuck under it.

The arm fell off, of course.

So I pull the stupid mannequin off his big head.
Mind you, I wasn't too careful about it. I figured if his head was REALLY stuck it wouldn't matter if I yanked it up over his head, it wouldn't budge. But his head wasn't FULLY stuck, it was just too heavy, and a tight fit, so I jiggled it over him and then realized his fingers were stuck under the board the mannequin stood on.

I took if off and picked up my sobbing, crying, very naughty four year old Bear.

I checked his fingers, only scratched, no bleeding or crushed bones.

We sat in an obnoxiously bright pink tween chair while Drama Girl tried on her outfits, and we talked about how it wasn't such a good idea, this sticking your head between mannequin legs.

It's a measure of my mommyhood style that my first response was "So, what did we learn about playing with mannequins?"

And yes, he was fine five minutes later, albeit very clingy, and suddenly overcome with panic at the thought that he'd be on the moon all alone and not be able to find his house...
...

ALL I said was, maybe he could wait on the moon while we shopped, that's all....

How to Do a Will

This is what I need to know.

I have found out that for the state of Colorado, with my main goal of a will being to name a guardian that all I need is the right forms, and I can do it myself.

But which forms?

Do I just get Quicken's willmaker?

Do I order the brochure of will making from the site the Colorado Bar Association recommends?

And, what happens, in the strange circumstance that I get hit by a meteor, but not beloved Hubby McRed, but then, in a bizarre twist of cosmic humor, two years later, he gets hit by a meteor, but he didn't bother doing a will, do the children go to the guardian I appointed, or, is my will void and they go somewhere else the court appoints wily nily? Not that courts appoint things wily nily, never.

Anyone?
Anyone?


I intend to either spend the $100 to 'make a will' at the local community center or to use software, but, I just need aaahhh.... suggestions.

anyone?

No Grabby Grabby

I was working on my paper from hell for the instructor from hell. To accomplish this, I set the boys, Turbo and Bear, on their own in the house. Everything was pretty much as calm as you could expect in this scenario.

But then it was dinner time. Hubby McRed came home. Drama Girl wanted attention. And Bear, who had a nice, calm afternoon nap, was revved. OUT of the kitchen they go. NO running in the house. JUST GO UPSTAIRS AND PLAY.

So they did.

Only for Turbo to come running down the stairs, somewhere between hysterical laughter and hysterical panic.

"Mommy Mommy!" he cried. "Bear is Trying To Get My Penis."

I pause.

And look. Turbo had barreled down the stairs behind me, for protection, apparently.
Down the stairs fast as can be, arm outstretched, hand making crab-like grabby maneuvers... is Bear.

Laughing hysterically and saying "I'm going to grab your penis..." Pause for his laughter, he thinks he's funny, "I"m going to grab your penis..."

We have a talk about how this sort of game is not okay, I don't CARE if you think it's funny, we do not grab other people's penis'.

But apparently, this is a GREAT game.

Because shortly after, Bear comes running down the stairs, "Turbo's gonna get my penis..."

And then Lahdeeda, yours truly, got fed up, and shouted,

"THIS IS A RULE. We DO NOT grab OTHER PEOPLE"S PENIS' IN THIS HOUSE."

I mean, yes, I had to make a rule....


Actual, cute, non-penis comment of the night (I don't recall the last time I had a day that didn't contain some penis reference from my preschoolers):

"Bear, I'm going to get you a t-shirt, I don't want you sleeping in your belly tonight."
"Okay, mom, and I need t-pants, too..."

awwwww

Precrastination

The process whereupon one decides to do a task earlier than necessary, and then, at the early time they have alloted to said task, then postpones accomplishing the task.

It's the first step toward procrastination.

So Very Naughty

I went to the bookstore.

It was naughty of me.

I am not allowed in bookstores. I can't ever be good in them.
I go to the library, and stuff tote bags full of books that pique my interest, and return them three weeks late, but only pay $5.

Libraries are made for people like me, and elderly folk.

I have trouble in the bookstore.

But I think today I did pretty good. I picked up six books, but only left with three, one a biography on Ann Boleyn just cuz I get into phases, a book of essays by Ray Bradbury on writing, and a book by Janet Evanovich because she writes in a style I like, and I want to try to mimic, even though I can't spell her name, and I don't want to write mystery.

Total? $60

I was so very naughty.

THEN I went to the Office Depot.

This is just as hazardous for writers-to-be. LOTS of organizers, papers, boxes, writing THINGS....

I behaved. I only picked up ten pieces of poster paper to do a timeline on, and some sticky notes.

So very good, after being so very naughty.

hee

Pee Wee, Oh My

First day of Pee Wee soccer practice... occurred.
Lets just say it happened.

Bear sat down and refused to play. That was all there was to it for him.

Turbo intermittently got in line to kick the ball, than decided he didn't like the rule about not touching it and picked it up and left, and then, decided to go fly off and be a bird.

Of course all the OTHER children stayed with the group, got in line and took turns kicking the ball. None of the OTHER kids needed to be corralled.

This happens to me all the time.

It's like, my kids are off in their own world, masters of their own universe, and they don't want to do anything they don't want to do.

But it's just SOCCER! Is it too much to ask to let mommy have ONE thing that doesn't make mommy put her face in her hands or end in, "Oh Dear." "Oh My." "Maybe Golf?"

Surviving tweendom

I'm pretty sure there's no way I"m going to survive Tweendom.

I can not STAND my 11 year old Drama-Girl's mood swings for absolutely no reason...

"Before you go out, you have to pick up your clothes, make your bed and clean up the trash on the floor"

"I"LL NEVER GET DONE I CAN"T EVER HAVE A BREAK I'LL BE STUCK HERE FOREVER AAHAHHH YOU'RE EVIL MOM"

Oh, well, in that case, continue living in the pig sty. Really. I misunderstood.

Do your homework.

HOMEWORK IS STUPID IT MAKES NO SENSE I DON'T WANT TO DO IT IT SUCKS I'M GOING TO STAY IN MY ROOM AND YELL AND SCREAM BUT LEAVE ME ALONE I DONT' CARE IF I'M DISTURBING YOUR ATTEMPT TO HAVE A CUP OF COFFEE I HATE MY LIFE AND I DON'T WANT TO DO HOMEWORK AND YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME SCREAM AND THROW THINGS.

Come down and talk to me, we need to have a conversatoin (On account of all the yelling).

NO I'M NOT LEAVE ME ALONE I'M IN A BAD MOOD....

Then pack your bags, because I've changed your room, it's currently on the moon. Call me when you get there.

To the Anonymous HR Folks

Dear Anonymous Corporate HR Drones,

Are you REALLY right now, at this moment, reviewing my experience and qualifications to find if they match the position you are seeking to fill? Am I to believe that the MOMENT that message arrived in my in-box, that you had, with great excitement, pulled my submission out of your in-box, to immediately review my qualifications and experience?

And what are the odds, the chances, really, that even if I DO pleasantly surprise you with my experience and qualifications, that you will contact me in a reasonably reasonable time? Truly?

I'm just wondering, is all....

Three Pages

I have a rule about writing.

Three pages, a minimum, every day. I give myself one day off to not do it. But every other day, three pages, this includes weekends, and the kicker, they HAVE to be 'relevant' pages, to the story I'm writing.

So, I'm 12 chapters in. I reckon (Yes, I said I Reckon) I have five or six more chapters to go to 'finish' the story, of course, there are five or six chapters I'll be adding in when I do the rewrite (I so can not believe some of the detail I left out, LOTS of detail, but then, this IS the first draft and I AM just trying to get the story down and it IS flowing, and isn't that something?) I am actually unsure as to what other writers do, being as I don't know any others, but I read that Laurell K Hamilton SWEARS that you don't rewrite until the full story is down or you'll never finish a book.
Another author swears that you rewrite as you go, or you won't go where the story properly wants to take you.

I've tried both, and it seems I'm in the 'get the story down than make it pretty' camp.

And why am I telling you this?

Why, I'm telling you this because it's 8:23 p.m. at night, and I have yet to write my three pages, and I am loathe to, (I am a morning writer, truly, but today, I went and did mom/housewife errands) but I am determined and bound to a promise to myself that I would write three pages every day.

Yes, A promise to myself. I promised myself something that requires a lot of me to me. How funny, that i am doing this. But I promised myself that I wouldn't sit and not try to write a novel. And to write a novel one requires mass amounts of discipline, so I promised myself that no matter what, I would be disciplined, and write at least three pages a day. I promised myself that I wouldn't let myself down.

Myself is very happy, because myself feels that I truly mean it. And I am writing these three pages though all I want to do is drown myself in the naughty King Henry the VIII show, The Tudors, (Dynasty, only with History!) or the Other Boleyn Girl novel. But I made a promise to Myself and by golly, I mean to keep it.

But here's the thing that has me spooked.

I made a promise to Myself, and I am keeping it, so Myself will be happy. Myself is THRILLED that I'm going to write the three pages. I am struggling to do so, but, again, don't want to disappoint Myself, even though I'd rather be goofing off... Myself is nagging me because of what I said.

So, between Myself and I, who the heck-n-crap is Me?

ahhhh

Secret Life of a Soccer Mom

Someone sign me up for it.

I see it as a cheap way to get a job.

I can talk about some crazy dream of mine to be an executive of a publishing company or something.

At the end of the week, I will give a tear-felt speech to my family, whereby I tell them how much I love them, but that frankly, their appreciation of me has been a bit on the down-side, and it was time for us all to fly the nest.
Mommy will go to her new job, Turbo and Bear can go to daycare, I've already researched a couple of them, and Drama Girl will get her own key to let herself in after school.
Hubby McRed will take dinner duty three times a week.

I will cry, and sniffle, and then go take whatever job I was offered... and since it won't be the glamorous job portrayed on the television, I will stay there only long enough to get a better paying job somewhere else...

...would that be wrong?

Spring Break

In the past, spring break, you think

beaches
bikinis
beer
bummy kids

Okay, you still sorta think of it, because lets face it, it still means that, however,

In the new world of adult education, and the influx of adults who hold jobs while going to school, or while tending demon ferret monkey offspring, (post coming) spring break now means...

laundry getting done
no homework and class time at 9 p.m. when the kids are finally in bed
an actual dinner on the table
an hour in front of the idiot tube
two hours with a book you're reading FOR FUN
sheer giddiness and delight from the prospect of not having to deal with school

But, alas, no beaches.

Not for me.

And, I'm a bit sad about that.

What, it's only Wednesday?

I'm coming 'down' from my paper trauma.

It's in, and now I can fret about the grade and nasty mean comments I'll get, never mind my personal thoughts on the class... just... want...pain.... to....cease.... but.....still....get....degree....

My group in my other class, well, Abbot and Costello.

The upside?

I'm taking the night off :) and writing chapter nine and ordering pizza and not cooking and not thinking about school.

:)

The downside?

School makes me grumpy, and papers make me fretty, which make me eat ice cream.

Upside?

I saw Tulips sprouting on the way to pick up Drama Girl from school, which means SPRING IS COMING AND IT WILL BE WARM.

Downside?

Snow on Friday. WHAT?

:)

Look! I'm Procrastinating!

What am I doing?

Why, Procrastinating!

I am on the last bit of the first and most likely final draft of a paper I have drawn out for three days.

This is my last semester of class, and it is...toooorrrttuuuureee... because it just so happens, I decided, during the second to last semester of class, that while a masters in mgt. is handy, the PR sub-section of that degree is not, because during the second to last semester of class, I decided I most likely probably never want to work in PR.

So this paper is pure torture because it represents, a, a paper on a topic the teacher doesn't understand or care about, b, the second to last paper for this class and c, i didn't do so smackin' hot on the first paper, and nervousness makes me procrastinate more....


ahhhh

so, i'm procrastinating....

An insight into game drama

For those who think games is free of the gossip, drama, and the sort of petty goings ons that afflict other creative industries,

I give you snorehammer.

Skip down to all the comments, and you'll see the sort of love that goes on in the community. It is very hard to out-rantxor a master rantxor, and those in the gaming community are rant masters. I myself only dream of the rant ability of community game posters.

For those who for some reason would think that those in games, the gaming industry, and the gaming community, are above it, well, I mean, we're talking games here, what did you expect?

But before you click, let me clarify some things...

a) Everyone hates WoW because it's currently the biggest, baddest most successful game out there, and nobody is near toppling it currenlty.

b) Everyone hates WoW, but because it is currently the biggest, baddest most successful game out there, everyone is playing it.

c) The people that aren't playing it, are rare.

d) this is not a cheap ploy to get more viewers by linking to a well-viewed site. I can't maintain a blog with more than five readers as it is.

e) I don't play mmo's anymore. I would LIKE to. I enjoy them. I think they are fun. I just don't have the time.

f) I do not have the knowledge to either agree or disagree with whether or not the game is good, because I don't have the time to play the games, and it's not out yet.

g) Yes, I know people who work on it. They all say it's good. Except the angry bitter ones. Who say it's bad. We'll never really know until it comes out. Or I play it. Re, time.

h) I don't actually expect anyone to go through and READ the comments, I just did to admire the rant masters at work.

i) I'm on the 9th letter of the alphabet, and I just realized this post is super dull.

AW, shucks

You guys are so nice! bout my writing!

I now make it a rule that monday through friday I can not go to bed til I've written three pages, excluding my babbling journal writing (which will never ever see the light of the day).

But on to my DOOM TOPIC

SCCCHOOOOL.


This is the final semester FOREVER (I am pretty certain I'm going to bail on the MBA, but my husband, a few friends, and my sister think I'll regret it) ANYHOW.... I'm in my LAST SEMESTER OF MY MASTER'S PROGRAM.... my LAST TWO CLASSES...

and they are the freakin' hardest two classes ever.... like, both instructors are insane. They are like, Oh, so you are about to graduate, you think huh? None of my other classes have been this insanely difficult.

I'm slightly proud to say that one of the 4.0 GPA students in my group is going to 'discuss' our crappy group grade with our professor since it was b.s. But even aside from that, the classes are JUST HARD> ARGH.

And... I am so not in the mood... just end it... ahhhh I...just....want...to.....pass....

it's not like this degree is giving me ANY help in getting a job, anyhow! SHEESH!

And that, folks, is my school rant.

On Writing

I've been writing a consistent three pages a day for two weeks.

I have lots of writing to show it. I SHOULD be posting this on my 'writing' blog, but, alas, no one reads that one ha ha ha. And all five of you, well, I want you to share my giddiness at actually having the discipline to write three pages a day.

Go Me!

One day, I will have something to send out to an agent, so I too, can enter the world of 'unpublished writers' vs 'aspiring writers' though TECHNICALLY because all my jobs were 'writing' jobs, I'm actually an unemployed writer who is working on her own material in hopes of being published, and thus, employed.

Or something.

Ax Men, Really?

Okay,

I FELL for the crab fisherman show.
I was intrigued by Ice Road Truckers.

But....

Ax Men?

As in.... Loggers? Lumberjacks? Tree choppers?

I mean, it's an honest craft. I'm not saying it's easy, or safe.

But...

Ax Men?

Top 20, Bottom 10

I totally stole this from More Gravy.

More Gravy has been blogging more because she just had another baby, and finds herself frequently trapped under her laptop, baby, and baby-mauling toddler.

But hey, I stole it, yes, what can I say, when it comes to blogs, I have no creativity. Strange, considering I'm a writer.

Top 20: in no real order

1. My kids, yeah blah blah.
2. Fitting into my one pair of size 8 jeans because it's a 'skinny' day.
3. Dr. Who, Torchwood and BSG.
4. Clean laundry room with actual clean laundry
5. Long bubbly baths
6. Early bed time for the pre-schoolers
7. Coffee and chocolate biscotti
8. Tea and tea cookies
9. Shopping by myself
10. Buffy Nostalgia (followed by Angel Nosalgia which reawakens Buffy nostalgia, it's a cycle)
11. British Comedy
12. Being home with the boys the first four (probably five) years
13. Running around the track with the boys.
14. Reading quietly while Drama Girl reads quietly
15. Waking up early enough to have coffee without interuption
16. Library trip without the kids
17. Spring weather in February
18. A good book
19. Realizing your friend across the country is on Aim at midnight and you can chat
20. Sleeping

Bottom twelve, in no particular order-- it would have been ten, but the cat required more than one slot

1. Cellulite and 'jelly belly"
2. Looking for a job after not working for five years
3. The eternal last semester of school
4. Fighting children
5. Realizing Drama Girl hasn't done her homework in a week
6. Stategically placed cat throw up
7. Cat throw up used as a Statement by the Cat
8. Knowing the cat secretly likes Hubby McRed better
9. The fake tree in my living room
10. Doing work that I may never actually get any income from
11. Lack of good television on Thursday nights
12. How fast my eyebrows grow in

Torchwood

Right, I get why I love watching Dr. Who.

But someone please, PLEASE tell me why I can't stop watching Torchwood.

It's such an unlikely show to like, and the 'in the commercial break' explanatory interviews drive me nuts. Do they NEED to explain each plot, or character development technique? ARGH.

Yet, here I sit, watching Torchwood, and heaven forbid, if I miss it, I watch the repeat.

What, I'm not compatible with Wolverine? WTF?

So,

This is my comic hero match?

I mean, not Wolverine? Or, like, Batman?
I get a half cyborg?
I mean, he's got potent, def, but not Wolverine?

Now go find yours!

Elizabeth the Golden Age

The one thing about On-Demand is occasionally, there's actually a move on it that I want to see.

I thought Elizabeth, the Golden Age, was one of them.
Queen Elizabeth is one of my favorite, strong female role models.

Oh I don't buy into the 'Virgin' Queen bit, I like to think she managed to sneak a guy into the sack every now and again, but that's just a minor thing, over the course of her life and accomplishments, I always admired her place in history, her politcal savvy, her smarts, etc etc etc.

So what does Elizabeth the Golden Age portray?

A love-struck woman who goes half mad over Sir Walter Raleigh, screeching in despair and loves lornless (is that even a word) throes while Spain is getting ready to attack. She cries, she whines, she pouts, and she needs a strong man to set her straight. WHAT! WHAT! Sir Walter Raleigh is the man that sets her straight? WHAT?

Oh what a nice way to take a strong woman and turn her into a wretched whiny bitter loveless hag of a shrew.

I despised that movie.

Oh, and on TOP of that, to make it worse, they put her on horseback looking like an elfin queen from the Tolkien films rather than an actual Queen.

So my review for Elizabeth the Golden Age is..... bleeeaahhhh

Have you Checked Your Kids Math

So,

tonight, lets talk about fuzzy math. Math for people who hate math. Math that involves lots of 'in the ballparks, guesstimates, and concepts' rather tahn 2 + 2 is 4 and 2 * 2 is 4.

My Drama Girl is ADHD, with some unidentified learning disorder in math, which I'm beginning to suspect may be Fuzzy Mathitis. For years, she's been doing awful in math, and has been part of special math groups of other students who do horrible.

She came home the other day.
"How is school."
"Fine," she says, with the excitement of a canned sardine.

"How is Math?"
"Oh math? Math is good. It's easy now."
pause
Check Pulse
"It is?"
"Yeah, we are doing it a new way now."
"Really?"
"Yeah."

She then proceeds to pull out a math sheet, and perform.... MULTIPLICATION problems... the OLD WAY, the computational way, that we all learned when we were younger.

Same with division.

I am an anti new math person. I admit it.
Save the conceptualization, concepts, abstractions of math for the kids who are older. That stuff will come, but it won't come if they don't know their basic facts!

Just a thought.

Before 19-0

Okay so

The Big Game is here, and now, we take a break from the beloved sport for... politics.

Senate looking into Spygate
Posted: Friday February 01, 2008 06:05AM ET
The ranking Republican on the Senate Judiciary Committee wants NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell to explain why the league destroyed evidence related to spying by the Patriots. Senator Arlen Specter, Republican of Pennsylvania and ranking member of the committee, said that Goodell would eventually be called before the committee to address two issues: the league's antitrust exemption in relation to its television contract and the destruction of the tapes that revealed spying by the Patriots.

Now, which is the bigger issue here? And what did they not say? Oh, that the Senator is heavily backed by Comcast? No wait, the REAL issue is the league's antitrust exemption. Isn't the destruction of the tapes an internal matter within the NFL, especially since the team, and the coach, has already been fined?

Don't get me wrong, I think the spygate thing was a shame, however, I don't believe it did anything except piss the Patriots off enough to go 18-0, possibly 19-0. I don't believe it gave them an unbelievable advantage, and I'm not convinced they were the only team to do it. But, saying that, why, WHY did he destroy the tapes? I don't know. Frankly, I don't even care. It wasn't the Patriots that destroyed the tapes, it was the NFL Commissioner. I just hope it doesn't come back on the Pats heads.

Because really, I just want to watch football. And really, I'm tired of everyone hating the Patriots just because they won too much. It's not that they won too much, really, though, it's that it's not YOUR team that won that much. To which everyone yells OOOH SPYGATE, but, that doesn't explain 18-0. I read an article that says Spygate made the Pats 18-0 because of all the crap they got for doing something that, I dont think, significantly made a difference in their game.

Regardless, I just want to watch the last game of the season, and potentially the biggest game in NFL history with a potential 19-0 undefeated team, without hearing people talk about how nice it would be if Brady got hurt. Now, that there's real sportsmanship. OH MY, a team is WINNING and FABULOUS, lets hurt them? Ugh.

Quick Notes

Yes,

I did finish that second draft of that story I wrote, and now, I think it truly is vomit, but from what I understand, that is normal. I put it away and will look at it next week.

Yes,

I did write an actual OUTLINE of the first book of a planned-three-book-but-wouldn't-it-be-nice-if-it-were-ten-published-books series, and plan to start the first chapters sometime next week.

No,

I did not help Drama Girl with the fifth grade science project paper due tomorrow, and will have to finish it and send it Monday.

No,

I did not work today, like I planned, so I'll have to work tomorrow, which is Friday, and Work on Friday is a personal no-no for me, so I'm very sad about today's laziness. I wanted to be lazy tomorrow dammit.

Yes,
I suffer absurd writers angst.

Yes,
I am secretly hoping Hubby McRed's stepmother doesn't stop by because it will interfere with my normal Friday night Sci-Fi Fest.

That's It!

Yes I did - -Vicks Rocks (vaporrub)

Vicks Vapor Rubs Rocks

And it's now smothering my four year old's chest.

I got him when he was sleeping muahahahhaha.

I'm in the Vicks Rubs Rocks camp. My husband firmly in the Anti-Vick's camp.

But whatever it's value or worth, it DOES clear the sinuses at the very least....

The suffering woes of a blog

My poor blog, neglected these ten days.

My temp gig is going good. I'd LOVE it to be a permanent gig, but one never knows.

I'm doing my own writing again, a lovely story that is becoming more ironic horror than anything else. I was going for comedic horror, but that's really hard to do. It's only a short story, because the idea is basically how a character develops into something else entirely, and that can be done in short story form. I've never done this genre before, so it'll be interesting.

Also, I am working on another story that is a book. By working on, I mean, creating characters and history, so when I go down to write, it'll flow better. There's a lot of stuff that goes into that book, and while I would love to just sit down and write it, without the prep work I don't think I could.

Now, what I REALLY need is my sons to play upstairs this well and for this long EVERY day at this time.

Well,

Tah!

Off to do dastardly, ghastly deeds in my story!

Boxer Boys

So.

I've found the solution to the pantless wonder boy problem I have.
My sons just don't keep pants on. At. All. I manage shorts, they'll keep shorts on longer than pants, but still, eventually, my little boys just toss them off and run around in little brief briefs.

Their underwear.

Then, eventually, Turbo will put his on backwards, and every time I see him, an image of Freddy Mercury pops into my head.

I had to stop this...

thus, boys boxer briefs.

Ala Boxers for Preschoolers.

These things are GREAT.

The boys love them. They are long enough that, with a shirt, I can pretend they are wearing shorts, and, when one puts them on backwards, there's no butt cheek sticking out.

So now the world knows.

My sons wear boxers.

How cool are they.

Out of the blue, blue

So, I've been handling my mom's passing away fairly well, I suppose, as well as anyone.

I mean, we had our last Mother's Day together, (don't even try to find me on mother's day this year, despite being a mother, I don't think I can quite handle the memory) watching Sarah Plain and Tall, which is now engraved in my memory, I was there with my sister and brothers all at the same time, so she got to see all her children one last time. I held her hand. I hugged her. I told her I loved her. She said the same. We smiled. She smiled so much when we were there. But she was so sick.

Anyhow. She passed away some time ago. In July, I suppose it was. Does it matter? It seems like she's been dying since last Easter (another holiday I may have to avoid this year -- it was Easter we got the awful news). I made it through the rest of the summer. I made it through my birthday in October. I made it through my daughter's, and my son's birthdays in November and December. I survived Thanksgiving. I beared Christmas, may have even given off the illusion of enjoying myself.

New Year's, however, did me in. I refused to celebrate it, to even acknowledge it, and went to bed at 10:30. I woke up New Year's Day, without the normal yearly Happy New Year phone call. My mother loved holidays, so you can forgive my scroogeness, because she made so many ordinary holidays so happy. So, New Years Day I woke up in a profound mood -- glad 2007 was over, but not really trusting 2008 to do me right. I made it through the day though, and the week, and now it's past midnight on Jan. 6, making it officially Monday, Jan 7, and I can't sleep because tonight, for no real reason whatsoever, I decided to terribly terribly miss my mom.

And I can't go to sleep because she is on my mind. And, not actually being alive, I can't do anything about it except sit here and miss her terribly. I would pull out a picture, except the image of her is ingrained in my mind, so there's no need.

I would normally express this awful dilemma to my brother, who is not online, because he's in bed, or my sister, who works in a lab at night, or even my brother-in-law, who knew how close we were to her, but no one is around, so, it's just the blog and I.

Somewhat employed for a bit

I am somewhat employed for a short time, working from home.
SWEET

It is a short-term gig which will get extended if we all get along and they like what I do.

We all like each other so far, but it's the details, they liked the ideas I had, but now I have to write for them :) and that they have to like.

If the gig gets extended, sweet, if not, at least it's a new, current bulletin on my resume, AND, I'm working from home, did I mention that?

It's perfect since I have two classes left from my master's and can't really afford daycare just yet for the twins. What I want, though, is full time salaried eventually, because lets face it, contract work is nice but not stable.

I've got a 'we've got someone who can hook you up with gigs' response, but honestly, that never has worked for me. We shall see!

actual news

I....


I....


I....

have news.....

Scrooge McLahdeeda

Was I a scrooge the year before last?

I can't recall.

All I know is I am Swamped. With a capital S. SWAMPED as in all caps.

I have a 15 page paper due Sunday (working on) and a term project for a class I barely understand due the week after, but of which is somehow more time consuming.

I have Christmas presents to buy (have I done any Christmas shopping? Heck n crap no... too busy) and we are going through a thing with Drama Girl which requires weekly appointments for the next month (well, through Dec. 21).

I'm not looking forward to Hubby McRed's office Christmas party at all.

...and by the way, what does one do, actually, when one finally gets a masters, but hasn't been in the work force? It's very difficult to find a job, no matter what you do or what you have, but I've essentially given up (I think) a job in writing, public relations, or communications, because those three areas seem incredibly unbelievably difficult for me to get into, and perhaps I should just read those signs...

(Yes, I am going to join the communication's writers group Blister to My Eye sent me, as soon as I can find the link, but I've given up hope. I can't decide if I'm an idiot or I'm just not really in the field I think I am)

Well,

Wish me luck, I'm off to a phone conference for my incredible difficult class! Tah!

Oooh and if I"m lucky, I can still GET to the Enterprise's Christmas Party... argh.

37 feels like 29

I understand that the 'feels like' degree underneath the actual degree is wind chill, but it seems silly. It's 37 degrees, but it feels like 29 degrees... I'm in a very good mood, but it feels like a crappy mood.... I ran three miles but it felt like five....

Anyhow, I've applied to a few jobs but it feels like I've applied to a hundred... ha ha ha.

I know that is January's resolution, but I'm getting an early start. I think I mentioned that I generally get, for three months worth of looking, one or two interviews or phone interviews. I'm not going to go into long laundry lists of who I applied to or where, or my networking attempts, or anything like that, but every now and again I'm sure I'll feel compelled to blog about this hunt.

See, it gets under my skin. I start dreaming about it. I dreamt, for instance, that I was hired as a crisis communications coordinator, and that I had to fly to Kansas to help a small start-up hard-drive manufacturer handle their crisis communication plans, mainly contingency plans for what to do in case of tornados, (run to the basement and hide under a mattress?) and how to get their men in the separate shop out of dodge, (secret underground tunnel to basement stocked with mattresses?) as well as corporate scandals that may arise. Now I didn't say the dreams were accurate, but the amount of detail is a bit spooky and they are very weird.

Start up hard drive manufacturer in KANSAS?
With top secret shops (to hide their uber secret that will make them an uber corporation)
The fact the guy had three kids (weird, I know)
And, we all drank amber beer.

Dreams never have to make sense, but it felt a little eerily weird. I woke up feeling like I actually worked!

Nanner nanner, coulda shoulda but didn't

31-28

Pats.
Eagles.

They coulda won. But they didn't.

It was a good game and don't tell me my team is the evil empire. They play really well.

But, for you, my 'stuck in Korea' friend...

....

nanner nanner nanner my team kicked your team's ass nanner nanner nanner....

Let it snow let it snow

So, we have snow. Even now, we have little bits of white floating down heavily. I think it's a wet snow, but I haven't been outside to verify.

Drama Girl is being incredibly obnoxious about it. It's not even two inches, and worse, not even 8 a.m. Ah, yes, the children woke up at 6 a.m. today.

Turbo is not feeling well, and sleeping on the couch, with his 'throw up' bucket. I gave it to him after the previous night's (night before last) event. It came to my attention that my almost-four (two weeks) son was so eager to throw up and get every icky thing out of his stomach that he paid no attention to how perilously close to falling into the actual toilet head-first she was. Flooded by horrendous thoughts of my little baby getting up at 3 a.m., yakking into the toilet, falling in and well.... yes, I'm a mother, these thoughts occur to me... I told him we don't throw up in the toilet without mommy, and handed him a throw up bucket. It's just his head was so close...

Bear is being silly and happy, and Drama Girl is irritating him, so we may banish Drama Girl, on account of her being too freakin obnoxious this early in the morning.

So the snow is well, white. And it's, well, cold. And I have to go out today and pick up a pie. Weeeh.

At least it had the courtesy to snow politely the day BEFORE the holiday, though it probably sucks for travelers.

the resolution

Okay, so my sons, three days later are still fighting. I gave up untangling them.

My new resolution, made in November, well, there's two.

The first is to finish the first draft of my book idea. I should be able to start this once the holidays are over and, more importantly, school is.

The second one is to find a job. Not just any job. A job I actually like, in my field, no less.

Those who have read this have heard about me and my job and so on and so forth endlessly. I'm not going to whine, or fuss, or mope or moan. I'm just going to keep an update, and just write about it, and we'll see, for ourselves, how long it takes, you know, all in good fun...

This of course is not like other job searches where people have had jobs. I've been out of work for four years, ostensibly to get my masters :).

So we shall see.

But that is my New Year's resolution, which I'm starting.... now.

To kick it off, I've applied to three jobs. Go me. Keep in mind, I"m not going to bother about jobs I've applied to, I"m only keeping track of things that actually 'happen.' I figure, so far, I average interest once every three months...

WOOOO.

As for the book? Well, I have a break in classes over Christmas, and the characters and plot will be hashed out. They are in my head, have been since i moved here, and are the major reason I ditched the freakin 17 chapters already written for another book, so go me.

The Resolution

To be update shortly,

After I untangle my fighting sons.

The Changed Me

Doesn't that sound like I'm suddenly changed and enlightened?

I'm not.

But I did a bit of reflection and realized, without realizing it, how much I've changed, for the better, but they are all, except for the first on the list, internal changes that haven't yet manifested externally.

In other words, I've changed a lot on the inside, and now some of those changes are beginning to affect me 'outside'.

Since moving to Colorado, I've lost about 20 pounds (and we shall not discuss how I managed to put on those 20 pounds without really even noticing it...) going down two and a half sizes in the process... so close to three... That is the biggest internal change that is clear and obvious.

Here are some that are only evident to me, and that's only because it came to me in a moment of sudden insight.

I used to whine I had no friends in close proximity. I still don't, but I realized, I don't need friends in close proximity so much as I need to like me. It wasn't that I didn't like me, it was that I was very unsatisfied with what was me.

I used to obsess about writing... must...be..published... now, I write for the sake of my stories and the love of my tales. I guarantee I will now finish stories. I lost the most important ingredient to successful writing... letting the story be what it is. I would force it to a convention that I didn't like. Writing the story I want to tell, well, much more fun. And in doing that, I realized, the writing that is true to me, not the genre I have been trying to write in. Feel like slapping myself for that I do.

I wanted to do everything right. I wanted the house to be clean, the grades to be A's, the stories published, the dinner a culinary delight and enough time for it all. HA. Now, I realize the grades can be A's, the stories one day potentially published, and well, frankly, we don't have a lot of company and pizza works for us all.

I used to obsess that my kids just weren't like other kids. They aren't. So what? So I will never be a soccer mom because my kids don't do soccer. Nor will I be posting Drama Girl's grades. So my daughter has ADHD and acts a bit immature and needs more hands on parenting. Whatev. Right? She's mine. We'll do our own thing. The boys? Who knows who they'll be. But they're mine.


So, overall, I'm calmer about things. I have an inner confidence I seemed to have misplaced. Exercising has made my brain less cluttered somehow. Oh that didn't happen at first, but it's been about six or seven months of exercising a good hour a day for three days a week, and something has changed. My mind seems, lighter... full of oxygen.... not toxic....

I've almost finished my degree.

And, to be honest, I'm getting bored at home.

Ruh-Roh.

Gods of the NFL

YES>


Sunday. I am so there. I"m doing some classwork early so I won't be distracted by 'not doing classwork mindfully' guilt.

Colts vs Pats

I can't wait.

But let me just say here, with all this whining about how the Patriots are not being 'honorable' and going for those extra points instead of 'being nice' and not rubbing it in too badly... well...

um.

If every one of those teams hadn't jumped on the Pats and name-called and whined and cried about how they were cheaters, than perhaps the Pats wouldn't have to put up these points to show the NFL that while what they did was wrong, it was only a more advanced form of getting the same information all other teams try to get.... (logic may be a bit flawed, but I don't think what they did 'changed' games)

Anyhow.
No one can say the Pats aren't the best team in the NFL right now. They dominate. They just do. I think the Colts are the only team that can stop them right now.

Which is why I'm so stoked about Sunday's game.

Go Pats.... yeah.... and I hope it's a good game, but don't whine to me about how many points they put up. You don't like it, well, play some frakkin' football then!

November!

What happened to October?
Had birthday, underwhelmed. We didn't do much, October was just a crazy month.

Trick or treating was nice, since Drama Girl elected to go with a friend to her church event. I took the boys out, but this neighborhood is not the most festive. I'm hoping they have a little more enthusiasm over Christmas.

I have just officially gone under 30 percent body fat... thank you all very much... it helps to sign up your kids for programs at the place you work out. You're kind of trapped into doing something exercisey...

I know I used to be a daily blogger, and now I'm turning into a weekly one, well would you believe, I'm busy now? Not just busy, but overwhelmed busy! So busy, that I'm reading "I Don't Know How She Does IT?" the Only Thing is, it's about a mom who works and is jugging everything and handles it. I relate to her, only, the part where we aren't alike is where I don't have a job.... and I STILL am barely doing it! Yes, October was overwhelming. November looks to be overwhelming as well. School... ah... school.... is killing... me....slowly....

I'm striving to not procrastinate on these next assignments... seriously... send... help...

So here's the quick update:
Turbo potty trained
Bear still adamantly refusing to use pot
Drama Girl very moody... it's a tween thing... has glasses, very cute on her, but overpriced... went to wrong place so paid out of pocket, and can't seem to remember to submit 'out of network' forms... someone please remind me
Hubby McRed cranky about work, that is norm.

Hoping to not forget to register my truck this month....

Pajama Tuesday

It is 1:40 p.m. and I am still in my pajamas (nice, top quality ones, too, btw, Eddie Bauer if you must know).

Some of you are saying 'lucky beatch!' or 'damn wish I were' or 'hey, me too...'

Others might be saying,

"WTFRAKKINHECKNCRAP are you doing woman, at 1:40 p.m. in the afternoon wearing pajamas?"

The answer is, a whole lotta crap that needed to get done.

I started this morning at 8, at my computer which is now right next to my bed. I ordered a new cell phone and cell phone plan with a new carrier online (some people go to the phone stores, I live in fear of cell phone plan salesman...) Then I started through my stack of index cards (All my to-dos are on index cards... most people use notebooks. Notebooks don't work for me. I need to constantly jot, rejot, and jot again on cards...)

I made appointments.
I called about our crap television (HDTV, DLP.... color wheel gone, bulb fading, what IS the point?) /// we're using this as an opportunity to see if we miss cable, if not, bye bye crazy bill...
I paid some bills.
I called the school.
I did transcript ordering stuff.
I did other things, all these other little nit-noid things that only take a a few minutes each, but because the few minutes is extended by web pages that are down, phones that aren't answered or have long hold times, letters that have no stamps, forms without information et al et al, they don't get done.
Ever.

Well, for months.

You all know what I mean. There's a list we all have, secretly, not so secretly, or simply lost, full of things that NEED to be done (emissions testing and registration for my vehicle is one I have managed to put off for months...) but never gets DONE because it's just a little nit noid thing that can wait, and wait... and wait.....

You get the idea.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to pay my overdue library fee before I get dressed for the da.... night.

Back to it!

Wow,

I've been gone a while.

It's been a busy week or more...

Drama Girl is having tween angst and we need to deal with it before it becomes full-blown teen angst. There's so much going on with her, I really feel for her, I do. I wish I knew where it comes from, but I don't really. We seem to be making progress, slow but progress....

The boys... well, TURBO IS POTTY TRAINED! Weee! My goal is to have both potty trained by four, but Bear is being a BEAR about it, and I do mean a BEAR. He won't even sit on the toilet, not one of them, not the cushiony ones we bought for the boys, not his own personal little one, not at all... not for candy, not for stickers, not for hugs or love or anything.

I informed him that we had to, and that this was his last batch of diapers for the day. I ALREADY said this, but it didn't work. He just watches Turbo use the potty and makes encouraging noises, but, he won't go near the thing! Well, to be fair, he goes. He sits on it with the lid down, and fills the toilet part with lego.

Great. ha ha. But I still have one and a half months left before their b-day, and my goal is before 4. Once Turbo got on the pot and went, it was a matter of hours before he 'got it' and he only had three or four accidents total. He's now in underwear full time. So I have hope.

Hubby McRed had some work drama, but that is over, as well.

Life is mellow, and if it gets dramatic again, I'm going to scream.

HA and I had a funny dream a blogger called me. It was ironic. Odd, but ironic, how our mind works.

Help, no sleep.

My sons are ill. They hack, cough, sneeze and cry. Their eyes and noses are runny. So they do the same thing all other non-feeling-well children do.

They climb into our bed at night.
Only, there isn't room in our Queen sized bed for two adults and two squirmy, bed-hogging germ incubators.

Yesterday was Hubby McRed's turn to go to the couch at about 4 a.m.
Today, was mine.

They are playing well, with their sniffles and moodiness, but I can't take them out today. Turbo boy missed swimming twice, but it's okay because he starts again next week in a new session and is repeating the same level.

I wanted to check out the Y downtown because I need an indoor exercise outlet that has good programs for kids, since um, it's proving difficult to leave the cozy smell of coffee and peace in the morning to go running in the cold.

So instead today i'm going to clean and write and hope the boys are tired enough to nap.... plleeeassee

Kids and Rooms

So I've given this a lot of thought.

Drama Girl is almost 11.

Where do I stand on room cleanliness?

It seems to be a physical impossibility for her to keep her room clean.
There are many people who say that having a clean room helps clear the mind, that they feel better when their houses/rooms are clean.

This does not seem to apply to my daughter.
Drama Girl has a simple rule to follow.

I need to be able to see the floor.

In order to allow me to see the floor, she has shoved everything into the closet or in boxes behind her chairs.

When I was doing her laundry, her rule was to also fold and put her clean clothes away neatly in the closet. This was so I wouldn't redo her laundry over and over... which has happened on many occasions. But, after months of re-washing clean clothes, I gave her a crash course in laundry, and now she does her own. I give her 50-50 odds on whether or not the clothes she washes are actually dirty, and the ones she wears actually clean, but you see my dilemma.

It's her room, I can see the floor, should I just give in, and let her exist in that pile of clothes, art projects, books and junk, occasionally handing her a garbage with instructions to throw out ten percent of the junk, and just let her have her little refuge al a crappola? Let her exist in that pit, buried between American Girl books, tween mags and clothes?

Maybe just a sign on the door that says 'this room not representative of the house' or 'quarantine, do not enter' and call it a day?

Dr Who

Where are my Dr. Who fans?

I loved last night's episode, but am confused about 'the Master' particularly the scene, the final scene, where the Doctor apologizes to the Master.

Was he apologizing because the Master was insane and he felt sorry, or was he apologizing because he didn't address the Master by his proper name, or was he just apologizing, for the hell of it?

So I thought the whole pointed teeth thing was silly, but then, what good is a Doctor episode without the Doctor being stranded on an alien world and being chased.

And, my general opinion question, for my Doctor fans (I think there are, what two?) Who is your favorite Doctor?

Ah the fun of it

And yes, there is another job that requires with my resume a one page expository writing sample.

I really wish I had one stocked somewhere, or that one of my previous clips would do.

So here I sit, writing a one page expository writing sample, already annoyed that this is not even a guarantee of an interview, and while I should view it as an OPPORTUNITY, at this stage, I only view it as another potential waste of time. I know I know, I shouldn't pre-view it as a waste of time, after all, I could conceivably get an interview out of it, but that's not the point, is it.

The problem really isn't the job posting requiring this, the problem really is I have no idea where my writing skill stands compared to others, so I honestly can not tell if this particular job is in or out of my writing league, so I get frustrated easily, because I imagine the world is filled with far-brighter people than me.

Oh that I had more of an ego!

Theraflu

Hubby McRed was on a three day business trip, and didn't get home til Saturday. This meant that I didn't take any medicine for my little plague until Saturday night. See, I can't take theraflu or nyquil when it's just me with the kids. I don't know why, it's just, those medicines are meant to help you sleep, and I don't want to sleep so well I don't wake up if my kids need me.

So I took thereaflu last night and felt immensely better this morning. (I really think I needed just the full night sleep, but the actual medicine part probably helped) and nothing all day, and tonight I'm taking theraflu.

I live for theraflu.

My parents lived for Robitussin when I was a kid. Everyone who was sick, Robitussin, or St. John's children's asprin.

Me?
My husband gets theraflu and the occasional Emergen-C tablets.
I do the Theraflu.
My children? Tylenol and Children's Benadryl (mainly for Drama Girl and her many allergies. We used to give it to her whenever a cold started to prevent a full blown ear infection, now I keep it on stock for the strange allergic reactions she, and occasionally a boy, gets).

Anyone have any medicine cabinet staples they want to share?

Running in the Rain Means Sneezes from the Brain

Totally not scientifically accurate, but I ran the other day when it was chilly and raining. This was Monday.

I was fine alllll week.
Til today.

Now I"m sneezing and have the WORST head cold and headache, well, not worst, I've had worse, but it's icky.

At least I finished some of my class stuff!

ahhhh


choooooo

An Idiot

Apparently, I am an idiot.

But not enough of an idiot to not be slightly offended when the e-mail read 'pleasantly surprised by the high number of quality candidates' that totally outshone me, only to find the job re-posted.

So essentially I failed the pre-screening test.

Okay. Maybe you were trying to make me feel good.
Unfortunately, seeing the re-posting made me think you just thought I was an idiot.

Maybe I really am an idiot.

I know I know, they don't really care, la la la, I'm just one of a gazillion people who'd like to work, waah waah me.

At this point, I think it would be easier for me to get published than to actually get a job.

I KNOW you're not supposed to give up, and you're supposed to keep trying, but my word.

I don't know what hurt me more, staying home with the little babies for a few years or the industry I was in prior.

I'm going to drink a beer and feel sorry for myself.

The Second Post of the Day

Swimming Lessons

Now, let me explain something about Drama Girl.
We put her in swim lessons when she was about six.
One day, there was a substitute teacher.
It was toward the end of the class.
He was helping her float on her back.
He turned to look at another student, and removed his hand.
She fell under the water.
He thought she could float.
HA.

Mind you, it wasn't over her head, but it didn't dawn on her to actually, oh, say, stand up.

Since then, she's been afraid to put her feet off the surface, and actually attempt to swim.

So we put her in swim lessons, and though the kids are all three to four years younger, she seemed to do well. In November, she'll be eligible for the tween kids who don't know how to swim, so she can change to that class. But I told her she had to start now. Seriously. She loves the water. I can't let her play in water without her knowing how to swim. So, we start now. For a full season of 'swim' lessons.

Great.

The boys, however, are 3.5. They have been in the water only a couple of times, and once they are in, love it. Twice at a lake, twice at a pool and once at a river. Yeah yeah, I know, I stayed home all summer, and that's the only water play they got... bad me.

They are signed up for Turtle classes.
Turbo babbled about swimming ALL MORNING.
Bear, who was up at 2 and 4 a.m. playing, told me he wasn't going. When he realized he was going, he said "I'll just watch. I'm just going to watch."

Well.

We get there.
Other smarter moms didn't bring them in their trunks, and changed them there, because it was cold today. Whatever. LOL I'll bring sweats on Wednesday.

So
We get there.
We go upstairs to the place where you can watch your kid swim. You go upstairs and there's this whole glass wall you can watch everyone in the pool.
Turbo is trying to run out the door to get to the pool.
Bear is just saying he's going to stay with me.

Finally the instructor calls them. SEVEN kids like the boys age, yeesh. I worry, of course.
They go down the stairs.
Turbo just lollygags and is walking alongside the VERY EDGE of the deep end. I'm flipping out. I actually gasped. The other moms honestly were like 'it's okay there's tons of people to jump in after him.' OH GEE THANKS.
But Turbo is Unpredictable! Nobody can fully appreciate how unpredictable Turbo is! He's nicknamed Turbo for a REASON!
I had to turn away. I couldn't watch the walk past the VERY DEEP end of the pool. What if he slipped and fell? Or just jumped in? Or fell in? Oh. I panicked. So I just buried my nose in my magazine.

When they get to there pool area, Bear, true to his word, sat on the edge the ENTIRE time.

Turbo walked in and out, but never quite got in.
He did try to a) run to the deep end where the slide was, b) climb into the toy locker, which they finally moved, and c) tried crawling into the water and d) was grabbed by the second teacher they brought in for trying to run again and e) given multiple 'no running' lectures.

He also yelled at the lady twice. Did I mention lady? Oh that's right, yes, because they needed a second individual to help the instructor, courtesy of my boys. There was one other boy, but he mainly sat and cried til his mom took him home.

So all the other kids are jumping and bouncing and walking and having fun.

I'm sure they will be fine, but I worry, because my kids seem to have this genetic aversion to just 'following the leader' or 'doing what the other kids are doing under the guidance of a teacher' or 'following instructions' or 'playing reindeer games' or something!

So they are having two people in the pool on Wednesday, and they assured me that it's not unusual (except for the kid trying to run to the deep end part) and they will work with them.

And I will do my best to not watch. It's probably for the best, if I don't see.

However, I may have to buy them new swim trunks, seeing as Turbo and his bright blue and white floral trunks and Bear's green and turquoise fish trunks seemed a bit, loud, compared to the other subdued trunks. Then again maybe I'll keep em, easier to see bright colors and all...

Two for One Day~

Two posts for the mere viewing pleasure of one!
Or something.

So how hard can technical writing be? Seriously? I'm not talking an article on, say, "Learning Lua by Friday' or anything. I'm talking articles on, say, airplanes, engines, pizza ovens, etc etc.

I took an editing test for an editor job.

Now, I want to be confident. Edit? Ha. I can edit in my sleep. I can, too. I find it very relaxing. I can find my zen when editing. However, I have edited resumes, game fiction, design documents, and articles, oh so many articles, about Air Force stuff, from simple 'news' and 'feature' stories to 'The Definition of Airpower' and 'Night Vision Technology' etc etc.

But editing isn't that simple. I don't know how good an editor I am compared to the gazillions of other editors out there that probably applied to this job. And, in fact, I totally destroyed the article I was meant to edit, so I cut it down by about...um. Half. Maybe a bit more. Because that's what I do. But, it was journalistic editing. "This is EXTRA. Words take up SPACE. Be gone, Evil Excessive Wording." So I may have edited it a tad too much. Also, I'm not from a tech background. For all I know, I edited out the ENTIRE point of the article. I don't think I did. But I may have.

Then there was the proofreading test. Which is semi-bogus. I mean, WHAT editor or writer now- a-days doesn't employ, oh, spell check? But there were other things to proofread. I had a nightmare I left half the errors in, and missed GAZILLIONS of simple errors.

So, I am fretty.

I may be an idiot. Only I won't know for sure if I am until later this week/early next week. I don't know what I'll do if I discover that I did an exceptionally poor job of editing and that I'm an idiot. It's rather stressful.

And I'm not even including the pre-stress I'm having about whether or not I'll even get an interview at this place.

See, Fretting, for me, it's something I do well.

Stay tuned, to find out if I'm an idiot or not!

green watermelon toothpaste

It was an okay day, for the most part. I've been suffering from 'kid overdose' and will probably let the children play outside at midnight for a bit. But overall, it was okay...

.....

...... and then...

......

Bear used green watermelon toothpaste to draw on the carpet.

Someone.

Help.

Did you Snopes?

This is a question every gullible, believe it cuz it's on e-mail, crazy 'fwd'er should ask themselves.

There is nothing worse than opening up your e-mail from a friend or relative to see seven lines of 'fwd' 'fwd' 'fwd' with corresponding gibberish, only to get to the message 'fwd'ed directly from your friend or relative to you, to discover, yep, it's a variation of the following message:

PLEASE READ

This is a warning to all humans, everywhere, please pass this on to everyone you know, so this won't happen anymore.

One day, in the middle of the brightest day ever, in the safest parking lot ever, the SuperTarget parking lot located next to the safest city in the world's police department, who were having a barbecue, an alien ship landed.

At first everyone thought it was a publicity stunt, and so gathered round, when all of a sudden, the ship opened up and let out, Target employees.

We thought they were Target employees, anyhow, until, suddenly, they started grabbing customers who were in the Target parking lot.

"We are hungry carnivores from planet zeldoid, you are our lunch" they said over and over.

Luckily for us, the police officers at the barbecue were wearing expensive, modern laser beam side arms, because it's also the richest city in the world. They ran over the fence with their weapons and shot all the aliens dressed as Target people, and rescued the passengers from the ship. They then sent it off into space with a warning. "We won't be fooled again."

If it weren't for the fact it was also the richest city in the world, with modern laser technology, who knows how many innocent customers would have been taken away to become appetizers for alien entities!

God was clearly with us, this day. But there are other parking lots out there, with ships carrying aliens dressed as employees from Target, Walmart, Costco and who knows how many other retailers!

Pass this on to as MANY people as you know, telling them to be careful.

P.S. I checked this out at snopes, and it checks as TRUE. So you know this isn't a lie.

Friday Night... boooring

I have pretty much come to terms with my lack of a social life.

I'm pretty sure it won't improve until I have a job and meet people.

Contrary to popular belief, having kids doesn't help you meet people, not even all the other people who had kids and wanted to meet people. Mom to Mom competition in the preschool years is pretty intense, so it's usually just stressful.

Learning from how frustrating it was to join a mom's club, I won't join one here.
I suppose really I'm doomed socially until my boys enter school, and I can start volunteering. See, I have Drama Girl in school, but I can't really volunteer because I have no one around to watch the boys while I do.

Or until I get a job.

Whichever comes first.

But tonight, alas, my husband is staying late at work, because, yes, Fantasy Football time.
Drama Girl is at her first sleepover at a friend's. Drama Girl isn't involved in a lot of activities, so friendship making time is limited. She has to complete two months of swim lessons successfully before I let her do gymnastics.

Why? Because Drama Girl is almost 11 and can't swim. Won't let me teach her. Or daddy. Nope. So back to lessons.

So tonight, I am stuck with Turbo and Bear, both who told me to 'go away.' Shoot, even they don't want to play with me.

SOMEONE come and play with me.

.....

um after Dr. Who....

Talking is cheap, but time consuming

When Drama Girl was six, we were visiting my parents in Tennessee, and had stopped at a diner that paid homage to Elvis.

"Who's that," she asked, pointing to one of several pictures of Elvis, this particular one being in our bathroom stall.

"That," I said, "Is the King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley."

I may have been a bit dramatic, but we were in Tennessee after all. And who doesn't love Elvis?

"He's cute."

She was entranced. Riveted by his looks, as so many women were. His eyes twinkled from the picture. So, I ruined the moment. I'm a mom. It's what I do.

"He's dead now," I said. "He died a long time ago."

Drama Girl looked visibly sad. She'd never heard his music, but seemed to sense from one picture in a bathroom stall the magic that he was in life, those years ago.

"How'd he die?"

Well, this was the tricky thing, really. She's six. I could lie. I could tell her he had an accident. I mean, she was ONLY six. But one of my fears in life is that I would be one of those moms that never talked to their kid about anything, or worse, one of those moms who sit their kid down at 13 and tell them EVERYTHING. Too much too fast is as useless as not at all.

"Well, he died from DRUGS. He had a problem, he took drugs he didn't need and one day, he took too many by accident, and he died." I looked at the picture in our stall. "In his bathroom."

Drama Girl looked at me with wide eyes.
"In his bathroom?"

"Yes, he passed out, because the drugs had made him sick."

"Drugs killed him?"

"Yes."

"Drugs are bad for you?"

"VERY bad for you, except the ones your doctor tells you to take, for medicine, but you only take medicine the right way. But yes, drugs are bad for you."

"Yeah, because they KILLED Elvis."

"Yes, they did."

And thus began the dialogue between Drama Girl and I about drugs. It was light, really, drugs was a word that represented something 'bad' and 'dangerous' at first, and as she became older, the talks became a bit more specific. You can smoke it. Your friends might try it. It's bad for you like smoking. It looks harmless, sometimes like an asprin, but it's really not. Never take medicine from your friends, you know the talk. It's the talks the parent moms and dads on television have with their kids. Always in casual moments, never out of the blue, just consistent reinforcement of the same message.

I believe in these talks. I believe they are her best defense against drugs and peer pressure. We'll have more talks, too, and I hate them, I really hate having them. I hate telling her about the darker side of life. But I have to. We've talked about stranger danger. I've even gone through scenarios with her, based on her 'what if...' questions. And I challenge her with my own... 'what if someone asks you for directions, to help find a puppy, the way to the school, knows your name...' It's not fun, I hate that the world isn't safe enough for her to go out without having to be somewhat savvy, but it's not, and she must be prepared as much as she can.

Our latest talks were on the changes she was going through. Drama Girl is going to be eleven soon, and we had to buy her, well, bras. At first she was excited, but then the constant necessity of wearing either a bra or a thick camisole, depending on the shirt, has begun to annoy her. I have to remind her every other day. We talked about 'periods' because I know soon she'll either learn it in school or well, have it. I had the mental image of my daughter beginning for the first time, not knowing what it was because I never told her, screaming in the bathroom. She'd then hold a grudge against me for months, after the horror and tears faded. She's not called Drama Girl for nothing. I remember my first time. I thought I had a cut. Yeah, I wasn't really bright back then.

All of the time I talk to my daughter, she's responding, talking, asking questions, and I hide my twitchiness, my innate desire to have her magically become a woman without having to tell her the hard things, by cooking, cleaning, playing with my hair, playing with her hair, anything, and all the while, I'm watching her, listening to her, because I don't want to tell her too much, too fast. From her reaction I can tell she isn't ready to talk about sex, which is fine with me, but I did tell her the biology of it. Frankly, I'm surprised one of her friends already hasn't. But then I dropped it. She thinks kissing is gross. I'm good with that. However, she kept going back to drugs and bras. Those were the things I focused on. How to say no. Why she should say no. How hard it can be. The tough choices she would have to make.

Man, I hope she listens.

I wondered then, what do other moms do? How and when do they talk to their kids? I know I'm not the only one. I know I come from a generation of women who either were told nothing or too much, a generation of women who now want to get it right. We don't want our daughters to stumble into the unknown unprepared. We've been to the unknown. We have the ability to map it out for them, give them a compass and a guide. Avoid this, stay close to this, don't stray here, if you get lost, head this way... How do others help their kids navigate these years?

And, will they listen?

Some of Us Will Die without the Internet

Sadly, I might be one of them.

My cable went out for like, a day, (YES< a whole day) and I was very very very mildly grumpy about it. Turns out we needed a new modem, but that's not the point. The point is, I felt very very very mildly grumpy, not to mention I do bills, shop, socialize (I'm a sahm, give me a break) and schoolwork all online. It was a rough day.

Saying that, Drama Girl is back in school, and on this, the first cool day in a while, it dawned on me, she doesn't have a fall coat, and my boys don't have fall shirts/coats either.

Oopsie.

See that was the thing about Washington State, it was mostly the same weather all year round, with a short hot break that I complained about.

So next week I'll make a Target run for the boys fall wear and Drama Girl's coat.

My school starts up next week, and really, four classes left to go, I just want to be done. But, I have to get through those four classes, you see, and now that I'm settled, hopefully I can do better. I really want As this semester. Not that I'm driven or anything.

Other news in brief...
My writing is doing well.
My boys seem to be done their major growth spurt for the time being.
Drama Girl finished a whole week of school without forgetting to turn in or bring home homework.
Hubby McRed is happy at his job, but stressed because he IS driven and an overachiever, and hasn't quite conquered a new territory yet.
I have a new modem so SHOULD be able to actually CONNECT to the internet.

Blogligent

That is me :)

I've been blogligent.

It's just that school starts early here, and so last week was spent doing last minute school shopping, a couple of days visiting the Manitou Cliff Dwellings (cool) Joe Buckskin Frontier Town or Something (kids loved it) and some caves.

I've also created a New Writing Commandment.
Thou Shalt Not Do Anything Til Thoust Hath Written 1,000 word or more.
This Includeth Dishes.

This actually works, except for today, but today was Drama Girl's first day back to school.

I celebrated this day by not doing my morning Wogging or Exercising, the dishes, or anything else that normally needs to be accomplished.

First day back to school for kid, Lounge goof off day for mom.

Never mind Turbo and Bear, they have been pesky all day, but haven't really noticed their sister is gone. Except for Turbo who is upstairs laying down with a particularly foul mood of unknown origin.

Hubby McRed suffered a flat tire today, so he has my truck. Which means even if I were inclined, I couldn't do any errands. Aw, shucks.

It's quickly turning into afternoon, however, so time to write those thousand words, do those dishes and discover the source of Turbo's foul mood.

Turnips, your children will eat them

I happen to love turnips.

I know this isn't a common love, but I adore them.

How to get your children to adore them as much as you do?

Don't cook them turnips.

Cook them yellow and white mashed potatoes.

Boil turnips and potatoes, mash em like you would potatoes, and serve them like potatoes.

It's the same ole trick used with the cauliflower, only with turnips.

Now, if I could find a way to make rutabaga's appetizing, but frankly, I've never been fond of them myself!

Yes, I am inflicting a variety of palettes on my children in the hopes they will not be 'meat, potato, soda, chips, ice cream, candy eating American diet.'

Omigosh but tell me, WHY are my children addicted to their vitamin?

Silent Me

I've been so busy!

But let me just pop in to reiterate one more time....


......


I am not going to learn how to play Bridge, because I'm not interested in playing Bridge, and while I would love a night out once a week, I would not love that night out once a week if it meant going to bridge class, in which case, I would rather stay home with a netflix video...

I'll be reading all my fave blogs soon!

Silent Me

I've been so busy!

But let me just pop in to reiterate one more time....


......


I am not going to learn how to play Bridge, because I'm not interested in playing Bridge, and while I would love a night out once a week, I would not love that night out once a week if it meant going to bridge class, in which case, I would rather stay home with a netflix video...

I'll be reading all my fave blogs soon!

I got the scale

Okay,

For any who remotely care.

I finally got a scale, that measures body fat, too, oh joy...

The thing is, I've gone down a full size, and the new size I am is loose now. I'm not done dropping pounds and inches, but for the first time, I have a number. I KNEW I lost weight. I just didn't know how much. Oh my oh my oh my.

What it's been, three months, since I first made some small changes, and then noticed a lost inch?

Well,

Here it is.

I've lost..... FIFTEEN POUNDS!!!!! and about three or four inches, I honestly can't remember for certain what my waist was before.

That is a lot. I mean, Ten is hard to lose. I've lost five before. Everyone can lose five. Ten is dreadful. Everyone WANTS to lose ten. It's this golden number.

And I'm not done.

I'm not saying that as you are reading this, inches and pounds are dropping off at incredulous rates. I'm just saying that I'm doing really well in my exercising and eating, and hope to continue losing a pound a week. Yes, that's right, I only want to lose a pound a week. Two would be ideal, but one is more realistic. I have 15 more pounds to go. But really for me it's about the body fat and the size of clothing.

I'm THIIIIIISSSSSSSS close to my goal size which I want to be by fall. Then I want to spend the full winter going down the next size, because that is a hard one to hit. My goal is to achieve bathing suit hotness next summer. I know, it's a vanity, but whatever :).

I'm not going to write about this every day. It's dreary really, 'lost .3 lbs today...' lol no, we're not doing that. Especially since I'm trying to build muscle as well, so it's give and take. But I'll give you an occasional update :). Cuz I'm just so tickled pink with myself.

The thing is, I didn't do this with diet pills (which I'm totally against unless you REALLY are obese and need medical help to lose weight) or with weight watchers (the reason weight watchers doesn't work for me is because it doesn't change the way you eat, just how much, so yeah, frankly, for me, the sugary stuff had to go) and the places that prepackage your meals. Now, I think they are a great idea, the ones that ship you meals, so if you only eat what they send you, you lose weight, I think those are nice. I was tempted to try them before, but the only thing about them is they are expensive, they are processed, and if you don't learn to cook the healthy stuff and readjust your normal diet, as soon as you stop eating them, you end up reverting back to old weight gaining habits.

This isn't just about weight loss. This is about changing my lifestyle and my family's to be healthy, eat healthy, eat the right amounts, and to keep the weight off. My favorite side effect is my family has never eaten healthier. My boys, ate spinach! and cous cous! They only eat whole grain bread. I tricked them into fried tofu! Yes, they thought it was chicken, hey whatever works (I only do tofu once in a while, I'm still not sure if it's good for you or not ha ha). All our cereals are naturally under 6 grams of sugar. I got them eating quaker oats from the big container, rather than the instant sugared packets.

Mom and healthy meals, 1
Family and desirious junk, 0
Mommxxor for the Winxxor.

Oh and please, I think I mentioned, I don't believe that if you 'deprive your children' of super sugary treats and soda and cup cakes and twinkies, that they will go out and binge. I think that's an excuse. I believe in having healthy food in the house, including lots of yummy fruits to munch on, and letting them have cookies and stuff once in a while, and explaining why we don't have all the junk food in our house. No child wants to be fat, so if you appeal to the 'this is what makes you healthy and fit and looking good' they will continue with that trend. If one of them starts getting chunky I'm just going to readjust the diet and pipe up the exercise, but if you eat healthy, it's not usually an issue. So bleah.

And yes, this isn't just about me, it's about my children and my husband. And if my three year olds can be convinced that salmon is 'pink meat' and trout 'white chicken' and tofu 'chicken' then your kids can, too!

:)

oh and to ensure you all understand nothing is perfect, Drama Girl ate raw brown sugar at the coffee shop yesterday. /boggle....

I mean, okay she's ten. She was already sugared up from the fruit berry smoothie. I asked her to get me some brown sugar, and she got me a quarter cup.... /boggle... I meant the packets... and then she munched on the brown sugar before I saw what she was doing... so we had a little chat... I mean... that's the equivalent of one of those powdered sugar treats, remember those, you'd cut open the tip, open your mouth, and down all the sugar? Egads. She'd just have a cookie, too... so you see, it's ESSENTIAL we don't let kids make these decisions on their own... impulse always wins...