Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Well, Super Z changed that instantly. I think it was the day after we brought him home that Randy discovered that Z had an ingrown toenail. He was across the room from me when he announced its presence. He then began to torture my child in an attempt to remove it. Or at least that is what Z's cries transmitted to the inner core of the Mother that I had so recently become. All I can say about that day is that we are all very fortunate that Randy is still alive. Everything in my body told me to do whatever it was that I had to do to protect my baby.
It is instinct of the rawest sort. When someone hurts my children in anyway my hackles go up. Hackles don't make me the most reasonable person. I would confront anyone to protect those babies. And I guarantee you there would be no tears.
I realize that sometimes this instinct makes me overreact to things. Like when the daycare that I took Princess H to when she was first born brought her bottles out to me at the end of the day and they hadn't been washed out. I mean, what the crap? What else did they not do? Did they even refrigerate the frozen breast milk that I had brought them or were they too lazy to open the refrigerator door? The fallout from that incident is what led to Randy being a stay at home Dad. I don't know, even now two years later that pisses me off. So I am not sure if that was an overreaction.
But a definite overreaction is the way I feel when the babies get shots. I have to hold myself back from grabbing them off the table and running out of the room. I have to chant in my head, " They need this..This is good..It is ok..." Every single time that they have cried from a shot I have cried along with them. I have cried because they are hurting and I am standing there completely helpless to stop it. I have cried because they see me there and they know that I am not stopping it.
Well today Super Z got his booster shots. Like always I wanted to throttle the nurse when she came in with the four needles...YES FOUR. But a miracle occurred. For the first time I didn't cry. No, my protective instinct mixed with inappropriate guilt did not vanish on me. But it was almost as good. My baby didn't cry. My baby was the biggest boy that you have ever seen. He argued his case, " I don't need a shot. I don't want a shot. Don't give me a shot." and then he sucked it up and just impressed the hell out of his Mama.
I guess as they get older they will be able to handle more. Little things will hurt them less. They will learn to stand up for themselves. They will learn to take a few knocks and keep on going. There is one thing that I am fairly certain of though, that raw killer instinct that I got when I had Z will never go away. Having to hold myself back and let them be hurt is never going to be easy.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Top Ten Things That Get On My Nerves
- Nosy nosy people who have to tell everybody's business to everybody else. (Especially if that person sits right outside of your office and you have to hear the story eight gazillion times.)
- People touching (hugging, patting, rubbing) me. Unless that person is a member of my immediate family.
- When my husband cannot find items that are sitting three inches in front of his nose.
- People breathing in my face. (This goes for all people, even those under three feet tall who came out of my womb.)
- Close minded people who just automatically assume that you share their beliefs and spew down nonsense all over your space on a regular basis.
- People touching my stuff. (If it is mine and is on my desk, on the printer, on the floor, in my chair, on the table or on the file cabinet I see no reason whatsoever that someone else would think that I need them to move it.)
- People who pass you and then drive really really really slowly in the no passing zone.
- When couples fight in my presence. That throws me off. I really have no idea how to react in that situation. I just feel embarrassed and awkward. It is almost like a flashback to childhood when my parents would fight, so not cool.
- Passive-aggressive behavior. (GRRRRRRRRR!!!)
- When you are in public with two or more (very attractive, hearing abled) children and someone comes up and only compliments one. Yeah, that is the worst. It should be a rule. If you aren't going to compliment all of the children in the immediate vicinity, don't bother coming over at all.
Monday, August 27, 2007
She provided the following question, which I will attempt to answer with wit and grace. I am not sure if I am supposed to do some linky magic to go with this or not, but since I can't quite figure all of that out yet, I won't.
I’d like to know more about you, what makes you tick. I’d like to know how you started blogging. Did you keep a diary under lock and key safely hidden as a child? Do you still? Do you share the same things on your blog that you would have, or do, in your diary? Why did you start blogging and why do you continue? May as well throw in any roadblocks you have run into while blogging. If you still have your old diaries we’d love to see them.
Let's see, I first started blogging way back in June of 2007. It was such a long time ago, but I will do my best to drudge up the old memories. I actually started blogging on Myspace. I did that mostly to entertain my sister. I would write little funny posts that would make her comment and say things like, "I know exactly what you mean...what a pain in the ass" or " God, you are a nut. Why do you want people to know this stuff?" Those aren't direct quotes, because I am too lazy to go look at Myspace, but you get the idea. And when I read her comments I would think, "Haha she was laughing when she wrote that." That made me happy and it made me feel close to her.
So shortly after that I decided that I didn't necessarily want all of the people on Myspace having access to the inner workings of my delicious mind. That is when I started this blog. You can go back and look at the archives. It was a dismal start. I managed like 2 posts a month. And then...a wonderful thing happened. See, I am obsessed with Angelina Jolie ( I know, I can't help it though, I really love her :)) and I would read Pittwatch everyday (at work) in my free time. One day Sherry, the author of that informative blog, said something about a blogathon over at her other blog Chaos Theory. Because I love Pittwatch so much, I decided to check it out. I was addicted instantly. Here was this woman with children the same as as my children, with interests very much like mine, and she was so freaking entertaining. I loved it. I stalked her throughout her whole blogathon. And then I decided that it was time to get off my butt ( my lazy butt) and start blogging for real.
See, I have always wanted to be a writer, but somehow life got in the way of that dream. For the past eight years or so I have been too busy learning how to be a wife and a mom to have time to read, much less write. Well even though it isn't the novel that I dreamed of yet, blogging does have me writing everyday. More important than that, it has me thinking of other things to write. Together those two things make me feel like I am doing something just for me. And that my friends is something that we Parents don't get to do very often. I love blogging for that reason and because I have found so many other cool people out there that just thrill me with their wit, sincerity, and passion. This is just a great great community and I am thrilled to be a part of it.
As far as diaries, I would occasionally keep them. I still have one that lasted me from the sixth grade to the tenth grade. Obviously it was as pathetic as this blog was when I first started it. But it is funny to read all of the things that I thought. let me tell you, I was a crazy kid. One page reads, " I HATE YOU, MOM! I WILL NEVER RESPECT YOU AGAIN. I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY. YOU HAVE RUINED MY LIFE!!!" Ummm, I have no idea what that was about. I obviously didn't feel that it was important to document why my relationship with my Mother ended... just the fact that it did was enough.
The one thing that diary tells me is that I do not want my children to learn how to write. Apparently writing makes you lose your mind and hate your Mama.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
But I wanted to show you this for a reason. Reasons make it a little less shameful, right? I wanted to ask some very important questions. 1) Do all kids make messes like this on a regular basis or was I just extremely good in a past life and thus earned children with this special ability? 2) How exactly do you teach kids to clean up after themselves?
I have been back and forth with Super Z over this room all weekend. Occasionally, he will do as he is told and pick up a few things. Occasionally, he will get excited when I come in to help and pick up a few more things than usual. But for the most part, the few things could be counted on one hand. I guess my biggest issue is how do I teach him to pick up after himself all the time so that this doesn't happen? I tell him to put his toys away constantly. I applaud him for a job well done when he does pick them up. I have thrown away toys when they weren't picked up. All of these things will work at the moment that they are executed, but nothing seems to change his habit of pulling out everything possible and putting nothing back. Do you think I should just throw away 75% of his toys? Is that mean and horrible? I don't know, I just know I don't want to raise a slob. So guys, any ideas are welcome.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
"Uh, what are you doing? " I mumble. I am sure it sounds more like"whsdybaooiajdfuidhnnmoo?".
"Looking around.," he says. Yes indeed, that is his sexy I am in the mood line. He uses it frequently, because he is smooth like that.
Most Saturdays I will yell something nice like , "I AM SLEEPING!!!"
But every now and then my gracious side will kick in and his Saturday morning fantasies will be fulfilled.
Well this morning I reluctantly agreed to be seduced. I am not sure why...probably the looking around line. I am a sucka for poetry.
Anyway, about four minutes after the party is getting heated up what should I hear? The slight squeak that is my bedroom door opening. Oh, yes. Our super powers kicked in at that point. There was cover grabbing and repositioning at unprecedented speeds. The Flash would have been impressed. Then I slowly looked up into the smiling face of my daughter. She was absolutely thrilled...delighted...
"Ride the PONY!, " She squealed with glee. "Ride the pony, Daddy."
Ummm, there are no words to express how overjoyed I was by this little pronouncement. No words that can describe the sheer pride I feel in being deemed the pony.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
But other than the screaming and the whining, things are very calm and quiet around here. Oh, except for the T.V. blasting, because apparently my husband has a disorder which makes it impossible to for him to understand the words that are coming out of the television unless the volume is turned ALL THE WAY UP. Oh and the new squealing sound that my washer has decided to make ( I am trying to make that issue dissapear by not acknowledging it )...yeah, except for that I am perfectly relaxed.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
1 )Super Z did awesome at school! He came home with the stamp on his hand!! For those of you not in the know, the stamp on the hand means that he did not even get a single warning today! I am thrilled. Yay Z!
2) Randy is trying to get a part time job. He would work 4:30 a.m. to 7:30 a.m. That does not sound like something that I would like to do ( I am not sure if I like to breathe at that time, much less work), but he is super excited. He has been a SAHD now for a year and a half. I think that the idea of spending (any) time (at all) with adults other than me excites him. He said the interview went well, so we are keeping our fingers crossed.
1) My new assistant sent out a package with the wrong cover letter today...to a very important person (who just happens to LOVE pointing out errors to my boss). I took several deep breaths, sucked it up, and emailed him so that he could get his complaining over with. We shall see how he takes it on the morrow. Oh yay.
2) I cheated on my diet tonight. I had rice and gravy. It was wonderful. It was sublime. I have muchos guilt.
1) We have known for a while that Princess H's life ambition is to be a stripper. She can go from fully clothed to butt naked in 2.4 seconds. After achieving nakedness she will grab herself and run around the house giggling like a mad woman. We are so proud. Well, tonight we discovered that she is a stripper of the nastiest sort. Apparently her future clients are into poop. Yes..poop. Princess H pooped in her diaper, stripped naked, used the poop as some sort of primitive body paint, and then ran into my room to show me her work of "art". She stood there naked and covered in poop shaking her butt to her own rendition of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". Oh yes, twinkle indeed.
2) A square foot of my living room carpet was also decorated with the body paint (poop). Yes...a fetish stripper with a flair for interior decoration. Again, we are so proud. :)
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
I would call the home portion of the morning a success. Sure he cried a bit at first, but he did get dressed AND he ate breakfast, a miracle that only happens on the rarest of occasions.
As we drove to the school I reminded him of his teacher's name and we talked about the rules some. When we got there he told me that he didn't want to go to school. It only took about three minutes to convince him that he was a big boy and big boys have to go to school. He then insisted on taking in his backpack even though he wasn't staying.
"Big boys that have to go to school have to have backpacks, Mama."...Well, who can argue with that?
Mrs. Lee had all of the work stations set up when we arrived. She gave the kids a tour and then told them all that they could play at the station of their choice for a few minutes. Z headed straight for the play-doh. I took a seat over to the side, because I tend to be a bit shy when I first meet people. Sideline observation works for me.
Super Z had other ideas, " HEY MOM I AM MAKING A GUY!"
"That is awesome. Use your inside voice," I said smiling at the other parents who turned to look at the loud kid. I swear to you all of the other kids in the class were extremely quiet. Not saying anything quiet, I would guess that they were nervous, an emotion as foreign to Super Z as fear.
At that point he picks up the play-doh scissors and yells, " I am chopping of his legs!" He then screams, for the poor helpless doh-guy, I am assuming, " AHHHGHGGRRRHHHH!!!"
The other kids look on in disbelief. " This Zane kid is nuts.," their faces say.
I couldn't help but smile. I promise you, I tried. This kid just cracks me up.
" No Z, we don't chop off legs. Inside voice.," I said quietly.
He looked at me like I'd lost my mind.
" Is chopping off legs a bad word?," he asked in a dramatic stage whisper.
" No, it just isn't very nice.," I explained.
He thought about it a few seconds...meanwhile people have stopped staring, the other kids are going back to the games.
"Well I guess I'll just chop off people's legs at home then.," he declares, again eight decibels higher than any other voice in the room.
I really didn't know what to say. I was speechless. I was amused. I know that is bad, I shouldn't be so amused...but I tell you, the way his mind works delights me. I just wish he could delight me in the privacy of our own home. My mind was filled with celebratory music and an announcer yelling that I was PARENT OF THE YEAR. I had raised this boy who would be polite and only chop off legs at home. Bravo!
At that point Mrs. Lee met my gaze. She didn't shutter in disgust ( like at least one other parent did ) she laughed quietly and shook her head.
"100% boy, huh?," she asked.
I nodded and relaxed, "Oh yeah."
Monday, August 20, 2007
I had to think about this for a while, because I have to admit that personally I have spent more time around marriages that didn't work than around those that did. My Mom and Dad have each been divorced twice. My Mom's marriages have both died as the result of unresolved anger. So I would say that that is definitely a bad idea. I mean unless you are just really into being pissed off and miserable all the time... and if that is the case, I say go for it. I mean why forgive? Being perpetually angry and miserable probably burns a lot of calories... my Mom has always been really thin...
My Dad's second marriage ended because he was an idiot ( and an alcoholic ) who married a fellow idiot ( and alcoholic ) that he barely knew. So in big flashing lights I would have to say
* Don't be an idiot (or an alcoholic)* Those two things are definitely not good for a marriage. That divorce was actually a very good thing to us kids. We liked sober thinking Dad much better than drunk, stupid, married Dad. We are crazy like that.
Some would think that this legacy of divorce is a bad omen for me. I think not. Surely I must have learned something from all the failure, right? I really hope I did. No, I know I did. Randy and I have got it going on... in many many ways, but I have to pick three. I don't think I am an expert after only eight years at what is needed to make marriage at large work, but I can tell you the things that work for us.
The top three things that make my marriage work:
- We are best friends. I mean really the man can make me laugh until tea comes out of my nose. He listens to me bitch (and commiserates!). He likes to hear me talk. He has even been known to let me put eyeliner on him...once, under duress...when we were really bored...and young...and drunk. But yeah, he is my favoritest, as Super Z would say.
- We know how to keep it fresh. Now this blog is G rated, or PG-13 at worst, so I am not going to go into the bow-chica-wow-wow details with you ( I know, you were on the edge of your seat.), but we don't ever get tired of each other. We are not afraid to try new things. And let me tell you what, our grand finish conversations tend to be brutally honest and quite hilarious. Sometimes I can't believe the things coming out of our mouths. We should be critics... " Well on the plus side the lighting in the room was wonderful tonight..."
- Nobody wears the pants in this house. No, we don't walk around naked from the waist down...We are equal, team personified. There is no boss. ( There is bossy, but I am convinced that is a genetic flaw passed down through both lines of my family.) We are both more than willing to share our view of how the world should revolve and we are both willing to listen. Compromise is golden.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
I am happy to tell you that the Sunday morning tradition has not ended with my parents marriage. My bedroom suit is the same bedroom suit that my parents had back then, and apparently the Sunday morning tradition is some kind of magic spell that is attached to the furniture.
It never fails, on Sunday mornings I am jerked awake by the feeling of Super Z's knee in my stomach. And although on any other day that would be enough for me to turn into evil grouchy Serina, on Sundays that doesn't happen. On Sundays, I pull him into position and blow on his belly as hard as I can, eliciting ear splitting laughter that can raise the dead, aka Randy, aka Bulldozer 2. Shortly after the bulldozer is kicking into gear Princess H will let us know via our complicated electronic monitoring system that the prisoner of the crib is also ready to be dozed, tickled, and otherwise tortured into eliciting a million giggles. After about an hour of this everyone will pass out...mostly on top of me. And I will lay there uncomfortable and sweating and as happy as I have ever been.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
I ran into the question at another blog that I enjoy reading. He challenged his readers to answer the question too, so I am going to tell you my favorite episodes from Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I am only slightly embarrassed to tell you that Buffy is one of my all time favorite shows. I never said that I wasn't a big dork. And yes I was an adult when I started watching it. :)
I especially loved the relationship between Buffy and Spike. That will probably be obvious from my choices.
My answers are:
"Something Blue" from Season Four. This is the episode where one of Willow's spells inadvertently makes Buffy and Spike think that they are in love. This one was hilarious. They were so far from in love at this point, but it was great foreshadowing.
"Fool For Love" from Season 5. A lot of history on Spike. I love Spike.
"Crush" Season 5. Spike offers to kill Drusilla to prove his love for Buffy. Loving the love...even though Buffy doesn't return his feelings. And I hate Drusilla, so offering to kill her was wonderful.
"The Body" from Season 5. Buffy's Mom died. It was really awful. But the stillness of the episode really made you feel the powerful loss. It was very sad, but a very well made episode.
"The Gift" Season 5 Finale. Buffy dies to save her sister. This one to me showed once and for all that Spike had truly changed his ways. There is no more evil Spike after this, just crazy in love with Buffy Spike.
"Once More, With Feeling" Season 6. The musical episode. It might sound dopey, but this was my favorite episode of all.
"Smashed" Season 6. Buffy and Spike bring down the house. This episode was just hot. Truly.
"Gone" Season 6. Invisible Buffy takes advantage of the situation.
"Beneath You" Season 6. Buffy Finds out that Spike got his soul back.
"Touched" Season 7. Spike comforts Buffy. There was a lot of sex between these two in Season 6, but this is really the first episode where there is intimacy from both sides. So tragic.
"Chosen" Season 7. Series Finale. Spike dies to save Buffy, the Scoobies, and the other slayers. I know that many people think that the Buffy/Angel romance was better, but really Spike died to save her, tragic romantic love at its finest.
Now its your turn....
Friday, August 17, 2007
10) We got more of the good hazelnut coffee at work!
9) My new assistant seems to GET IT. She really does.
8) We ordered P'zones for dinner! No cooking, no mess.
7) Princess H was dressed in a perfectly matched outfit that her Dad put together!
6) I had enough spending money set aside to go ahead and order all of the prints that I wanted of our family pictures.
5) I got the greatest idea for a short story on the way home.
4) Super Z, looking every inch the surfer dude, with no shirt and a wooden bead necklace greeted me at the car as soon as I drove up.
3) I got at least 18 goodnight kisses from Z & H.
2) Super Z remembers the school rules that I told him last night!
1) I get to spend the entirety of the next 2 days doing nothing but lazing with my family. Amen.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
After her little speech about rules ( good gracious, is she delusional?) and such, she took a moment to talk with each parent. I felt that it was my civic duty to warn her about Super Z.
"My son talks a lot.," I stated simply.
She smiled ( ahh, so innocent ) and nodded.
I said it again, " I mean he really talks a lot."
Again I got the nod.
I felt the need to make her understand, " I mean he never stops talking...ever. I am not sure if he can. Every thought comes out of his mouth. Every one. He may fool you the first day, because he may be shy. But once he loosens up...please let me know if he is disturbing class. I will do everything that I can to get him to be quiet for you."
By this time Mrs. Lee either understood the seriousness of my son's talking problem or she decided that I was a lunatic. She reassured me that she would let me know if there was a problem ( Dear Lord, Please don't let there be a problem.)
As I walked away I had the feeling that I should have told her more, prepared her a bit more for the wild monkey boy that is Super Z. I mean it isn't just the talking, the child should have come with instructions and warnings I think. He is pure energy unbound. But I guess I will trust that he will be nothing new to her. Maybe she will know the magic tricks to use to get him to sit and listen and not touch everything in the room. Maybe she will know the words to say that will make him do what he is told, instead of debating about it for two hours. And as the door closed behind me, I realized that there is nothing I could tell her to prepare her anyway. You can't explain what a tornado is like to someone who has never experienced one. You can try. But they will never truly understand the fright, confusion, and mind numbing wind unless they feel it for themselves. Tuesday Mrs. Lee will meet the tornado.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Super Z - Listen to me fart, Sister.
Princess H - No. Mommy. Gimme out. Gimme out. Gimme out.
Super Z - hahahahahahaha! Too late! I am Super Prime!
Princess H - Mommy.
Super Z - Little baby, she isn't coming back. hahahaha!
Super Z - Hey Mom! We are okay, don't come in! hahahahahahaha!
Poor Princess H, she has fifteen years of hell to look forward to with ole Super Prime.
We got the proofs back from our family pictures. I think they turned out really well. It is going to be a process deciding which ones to order; they are all so good. I am sure that I will end up spending to much money. I admit it, pictures of my kids are a weakness of mine.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
When I was a little girl I used to have the same dream almost every night. I would dream that I was walking down a country road. There was always a white fence lining both sides of the road. I would be strolling along minding my own business, when suddenly I would notice a 10 foot tall tomato shaped pin cushion rolling down the road after me. (Yes, a tomato shaped pin cushion.) With the fence on both sides of me there was only one thing to do...run. I would run down this forever curving road panting and screaming as this giant beast of a pin cushion silently lumbered along behind me. I would wake up in a panic. I don't think I could've been more frightened if I was dreaming that I was being bitten by rats. (I've had that one too.)
I swear to you sometimes the things that my mind comes up with when I am asleep could be flashes from movies, movies that range from very steamy kinky to very freaky scary. (I dream in pictures...I remember my psych professor in college saying that some people dream in pictures and others in words. I am a picture girl.)
I am also blessed with the unique ability to remember most of those dreams. At least once a week I get to regale Randy with a tale of me pouring boiling hot tea over his body because he was doing very bad things with random girl 3.0. Actually, I have only had that one once, normally my dreams are pretty enjoyable, but believe me he gets to hear about all kinds of crazy stuff.
Other times when Randy is extra lucky, he gets to experience me being pissed at him over something that happened far far away in SerinaDreamLand. For an example of one of these dreams, please see the tea incident above. I try not to do this, as I know it is borderline crazy to be upset with someone else over something that happened in your own head, but fortunately he already knew I was crazy when he signed up for this gig. I say he just has to weigh the pros and cons. Sure..sometimes I wake up mad at him for no reason at all, but sometimes he wakes up and gets to hear a terrific X-rated story. Sometimes the dreams are so freaky that he'll ask me to tell him again that night, his own in-house version of Penthouse. If only I could come of with those things while I was awake... I could make a great living writing erotic literature. I am sure my Mamaw would be very proud of that.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Saturday, August 11, 2007
If I had to sum up my kids in one word, that word would be talkative. This little girl has not stopped talking for the past two hours. She will be two in October, so her vocabulary isn't that extensive, but she uses the words at her disposal to the best of her ability.
"Give me a bite.," in Princess H speak becomes, " Gimmee a bite. Gimmee a bite.Gimmee a bite.Gimmee a bite.Gimmee a bite.Gimmee a bite." The thing has not been said if she hasn't said it five times as fast as she can. It is really funny.
She actually has stopped talking a few times, that was an exaggeration. But it seems like overnight she has so much to say. It is lovely to see. If she tends to overdo it a bit, it is probably just the effect of growing up with Super Z.
Super Z probably talks more than anyone I have ever met...really. I am actually a bit worried about how he will handle school, because if I try to get him to be quiet for even two minutes he will literally start bawling and saying, "Mom, I have to talk."
I believe that it may be painful for him to hold words in his head. Basically since he was ten months old he has been blessing us with a continuous stream of consciousness evaluation of his life. A snippet would be something like this, " Mom, talk to me. Do you like motorcycles? I like motorcycles. Little Zane (his imaginary friend) has a motorcycle. Did you know that Papa had an orange tractor? Can I have a banana for supper? When is supper? Are we going to Mimi's? I love to ride my bike. I can ride my bike without training wheels. Hey Mom, why do you go to work? To make money? Can I get a transformer? Dad took my brother and me to see Transformers."
It never stops. Never. He even talks to himself in his sleep. If others are talking he will either keep going or interject random sentences as he can.
Do you think this is odd? He will be five in December. I used to think that he would outgrow this. No sign of that is in sight. Super Z's talking is the reason that Randy thinks he deserves a medal for staying home with my kids.
And now you can add in the Princess H speak to the equation, so maybe he does deserve a medal... or at least a big hug for marrying me, the talker, who scarred his children with this affliction.
Friday, August 10, 2007
In Mississippi when it gets hot, it gets really really hot and stays that way for way too long. The humidity is so thick that is feels like a second layer of clothing. Sometimes you will literally think to yourself, " Why in the hell did I put on long underwear?...Oh I didn't..humidity, right." If you have never experienced humidity in the south, I don't think this would make sense to you. When it rains, it rains for weeks and weeks and doesn't stop. When it doesn't rain, it doesn't rain for weeks and weeks and people worry that it will never rain again. And when it storms, it is in the form of hurricanes and tornadoes. It is really just lovely.
Hurricane Katrina hit while I was 8 months pregnant with Princess H. And even way up here in the middle of Mississippi we lost power for two weeks. It was like roasting in an oven. It was miserable with no relief in sight. I am glad it wasn't this hot then...good Lord, I would have died.
The only weather that Mississippi doesn't overdo is winter. We never get snow. I happen to like snow, probably because I have never had to deal with it on a regular basis. I wish it would just snow here once a year. That would be enough to make me happy. But no, I guess if it did snow here it would have to snow for weeks and weeks without stopping. If it didn't, it just wouldn't be Mississippi weather.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
I don't have that life anymore. I go to sleep a long time after the kids do. This is a necessity. It is the only way that I can get important things like blogging, sex, reading, and peeing in private done. And then I get up before they do so that I can go to work. And even on the weekend I get up when they do, because yes I do like to see them and no, I don't want them to drown themselves in the toilet or pull every single item out of the refrigerator.
So sadly the days of wild and wicked sleep have passed and I miss those days very much. Especially at times like now, when I have to be at the office again in only eight short hours. Why in the hell am I not in bed?
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
1. I am six feet tall.
2. I am married to a man who is 5'4".
3. Sometimes people stare at us or ask us about our height difference when we go out in public.
4. This used to bother me a lot, but the older I get the less I care what other people think.
5. I don't know if this trend can continue, because I don't know if it is possible for me to care less about what the rude staring person on the street thinks than I do now.
6.I outgrew both of my parents when I was 11.
7. It is possible that I may be half giant like Hagrid in the Harry Potter books.
8. I love to read.
9. I will read shampoo bottles if I can't get my hands on anything else.
10. My parents got divorced when I was twelve.
11. I dated my husband for six months and nine days when we were 15.
12. He lived in the same neighborhood as me when we were very young.
13. We went to the same elementary school.
14. I "met him again" in Fred's when I was 21.
15. That time it was love at "first" sight.
16. I was in Fred's because my Mom told me that rats were biting people at Wal-Mart.
17. I don't know if that was true or not.
18. He was in Fred's because of a flat tire.
19. I believe that God put us both there.
20. I majored in journalism in college.
21. I haven't written for a newspaper since I graduated.
22. It took me three years of trying to get pregnant with my son.
23. It took an emergency c-section to get him out.
24. I have curly hair, but my son's is much curlier.
25. Everyone says that my kids look like their Daddy.
26. I think this is because I am fat, and people don't think that I am cute enough for them to look like me.
27. I think I am cute even though I am fat.
28. I am trying not to be fat anymore.
29. I have had a weight problem as long as I can remember.
30. I was actually pretty skinny when I was 15, but I couldn't tell.
31. That is why I still consider that a weight problem. I was unable to see reality through my own bad self image.
32. I actually have really good self esteem now.
33. I am the queen of complimenting myself on a job well done.
34. I am not sure if that is a good thing or not.
35. My daughter was unplanned.
36. When I found out I was pregnant with her I cried and yelled, "F**K!" about 600 times.
37. I feel really guilty about that now.
38. When I was in the seventh grade my best friend/cousin Becky taught me the alphabet in sign language.
39. I would walk around and spell out in sign letters every thought that went through my head for the next year.
40. I was a really big dork in the 7th grade.
41. My Mom could not find pants long enough for me at that time.
42. I looked like an idiot waiting for a flood.
43. the next year I discovered men's jeans.
44. I was much cooler by the ninth grade.
45. My friends and I dressed in black all the time.
46. We also painted the pinky nail on our left hands black.
47. We thought we were very cool.
48. I used to tell my little sister what to make her Barbie's say when we played Barbies.
49. I love my niece like my own child.
50. She was my first baby.
51. She was born when my sister was only 16.
52. I think my sister is one of the strongest people ever.
53. She finished school and became a nurse, all while raising a baby.
54. I come from a very dramatic family.
55. My Dad is an alcoholic.
56. My cousin Becky and I used to make up characters and talk out stories all the time (consider that Barbie's without Barbies)
57. That led us into writing stories.
58. I have wanted to be a writer since the 8th grade.
59. I haven't written anything for the past 5 years.
60. I have decided to pick it back up.
61. I don't think it is ever too late to try to live your dream.
62. I think that Randy is a better parent than I am.
63. My Mom is one of the strongest women ever.
64. She is the reason that I am a feminist.
65. I am more liberal than every member of my family.
66. I have had the same best friend my entire life. My cousin.
67. My sister is my best friend too now.
68. That hasn't always been the case.
69. She once rolled over a car hood while pregnant to kick my ass.
70. We didn't actually fight.
71. My Dad literally jumped a fence and stopped us.
72. She did make my lip bleed.
73. I used to be very sensitive.
74. i find that becoming a mother has given me thicker skin.
75. My children are the best thing ever.
76. My son has a tendency to act like a lunatic in public.
77. People tend to look at us like, "What is wrong with that child?"
78. I tend to give those people go to hell looks.
79. Stupid people irritate the hell out of me.
80. Judgemental people irritate the hell out of me.
81. Nosy people irritate the hell out of me.
82. Ha-ha..Apparently a lot of things irritate the hell out of me.
83. I believe that you can tell who your best friends are by the way you feel when you are together.
84. If it always feels like you just saw them the other day, no matter how long it has been, they are your best friend.
85. I have a huge extended family.
86. That huge family comes with tons of drama.
87. I have been known to exaggerate.
88. My sister calls it lying.
89. I call it creativity.
90. My son has the same problem.
91. I have slept with three men.
92. I got married at 22.
93. Sometimes I wonder if that was too young.
94. I wouldn't change it for anything.
95. I think Randy and I have the best marriage in the world.
96. I am never wrong.
97. He let's me live with that belief for the most part.
98. I worry a lot. Irrationally at times.
99. I can do the pencil sharpener and the sprinkler (dances).
100. I am really enjoying this new blogging thing.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
My husband too has the creative engineering gene. Oh, yes he does. Randy kept a Honda CRV with 300,000 miles on it running for 4 years! I am pretty sure that the car was held together with gum and duct tape. But I am proud to say that when he finally sold it ( to another creative engineering family member of course) it was able to roll out of our driveway under its own steam.
Well, I tell you all of this so that you will understand how proud I was to prove that I truly belong to this family today. That is right, I earned my own badge in creative engineering.
On my way home from work, an eighteen wheeler in front of me had a blowout. The husk of the tire came flying out from under the truck about 50 feet in front of me. I couldn't get over into the other lane, there was no time; all I could do was slow down and drive over the husk. I was actually pretty calm, I was just praying, "Dear Lord, please don't let me get a flat tire on the interstate." Well two seconds later I heard a sound. Something was dragging on the ground. I groaned and pulled over. Turns out that the piece of my car under my door had come loose and was dragging the ground. I tried to put it back on, but couldn't. I tried to pull it all the way off..again failure. And then a flash of brilliance hit me like a rock. I took off my work badge, which I wear around my neck, and wrapped it around the loose piece. I then got in the car and pulled the piece into place the best that I could, holding it tight with the badge cord. I was then able to shut the door and drive home, holding the badge cord tight the whole way in order to keep the piece in place. How is that for creative engineering? I told Randy that if he ever had doubts that I was the one for him, this should put those doubts to rest. I have truly become a member of his family, let's just pray that I never feel the need to drive around with a window unit in my car for AC. Please Dear God, don't let that happen.
Monday, August 6, 2007
For some reason, I am amazed and amused by the screaming contest each and every time it happens. How can they know how to torture each other at such a young age? Is this trait naturally ingrained in siblings from birth? And how in the world has someone not developed a way to harness the sound waves of children and convert them to reusable energy? Seriously, I would never have to pay for electricity again. One screaming contest a week should be enough to keep the lights and AC going at my house. I guess the other 6 or seven screaming contest every week would produce energy for other homes...homes without children.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
And I said yes, because I like him. I also warned him that he could only have one today. He loves them and would drink all ten, one right after the other, if I allowed it. So he saunters off, nodding in agreement. 2.5 seconds later he is back, " Mom, I need another yogurt."
"No, Z. I said only one today." He whines a bit then wanders off. A few minutes later I notice that the door to his room is closed. I check the fridge, because I know the signs of sneakiness, and sure enough a second yogurt has gone missing. I go back to his room to tell him that this one is okay, but if he doesn't listen to me he will run out of snacks before next weekend. Honestly, that was my plan. There was no evil punishment in store for him, after all he is 4.
Well, he must have thought otherwise, because before I could get half way down the hall, he comes running out of the door yelling, " I didn't have another yogurt, I didn't!"
I simply raised an eyebrow ( my secret move) and told him to bring me all of the empty yogurts out of his room and then I went back to check the fish. 15 seconds later, out of the corner of my eye, I see him sneaking a yogurt carton into the trash. So here he is, caught red handed.
"Z, how many yogurts did you have?"
"One, Mom! Only one!"
The deceit went on for 15 minutes. The whole time I am trying to explain to him that it is worse to lie than to sneak the yogurt. He was having none of it. Deny was his middle name. Finally, finally, after much coercion he admitted the truth. I tried to talk to him about what he'd done wrong. I tried to explain that it is wrong to not tell the truth. I said things like, "Z, when Mom asks you something, you have to tell her the truth. Okay?"
Pretty much the only response that I was able to get was, " I am sorry I took it, Mom. I wanted it really bad."
How do I get him to understand that the main problem was the lie? Any advice, sage readers?
Saturday, August 4, 2007
This is what is going on in my livingroom RIGHT NOW! This is Randy and Princess H enjoying a nice bowl of fresh churned Bruster's Oreo ice cream. It is delicious. It is full of sugar and goodness. I have had it before, so I know these things. I cannot have it now. And he knows this. And yet, you see the complete lack of guilt here, right? sigh... I will have a sugar free Popsicle and try to stop myself from seething in jealousy. He is not the one trying to lose weight..yet, but if he keeps this up...
40 pounds is the average weight of a 4-year old boy.
How Much Fuel Is That?
To lose that amount of fat would mean to burn 140,000 calories or 585,760 KiloJoules! That is the equivalent of 4.53 gallons of gasoline. Humans, however, are far more efficient than cars, getting about 912 "miles to the gallon". If you could dump this many calories into the tank of a Honda Civic, you would be able to drive it about 154 miles before running out of gas!
Let's see how your goal would convert to other forms of fuel.
140,000 calories is equivalent to:
4.53 gallons of gasoline, or
50.04 pounds of coal, or
69.44 pounds of oven-dried wood, or
6.13 gallons of propane
This amount of energy would ...
Brew about 391 pots of coffee, or
Light a 60-watt light bulb for 2,712 hours ( 113 days = 0.33 years)
Cutting 140,000 calories is the same as saying "no" to:
1,750 apples, or
1,400 bananas, or
8,235 cups of cabbage (whew!), or
966 baked potatoes, or
1,750 large eggs, or
1,167 cups of 2% milk, or
101 pounds of ground beef, or
1,609 glasses of wine, or
433 Snickers bars, or
583 Clif Bars ( 778 Luna Bars), or
1,007 cans of Coke, or
824 pints of Guinness beer, or
285 Big Macs, or
272 Quarter Pounders with Cheese, or
200 Whoppers, or
424 Subway 6" Oven Roasted Chicken Breast sandwiches, or
824 Taco Bell crunchy tacos, or
596 slices of pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut
What it Takes to Burn 140,000 Calories
To burn 140,000 calories, a 190 pound male would have to:
Backpack for 232 hours (10 days) nonstop, or
Walk for 536 hours (22 days) at 3 mph straight, or
Walk 1,609 miles (1,006 kilometers), or
Bike for 406 hours (17 days) at 10 mph, or
Bike 4,058 miles (2,536 kilometers), or
Play basketball nonstop for 223 hours 9 days), or
Play billiards for 648 hours (27 days), or
Go bowling for 541 hours (23 days), or
Stay on the golf course for 406 hours (17 days), or
Spend 180 hours (8 days) playing competitive football, or
Jump rope for 171 hours (7 days) straight!
You would have to walk the length of England about 2.73 times to burn 140,000 calories.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Super Z - " Wow Mom! This is a nice toilet! I love this button for flushing."
Me - " I am glad you like it."
Super Z - " I have never seen a toilet this nice! Did you make it when you got your new office?"
Me - " Did I make the toilet?"
Super Z - " Yeah, at your job. Did you make it? It has a cool button."
Me - "No, I didn't make the toilet."
Super Z - " Well come in and see, Mom. It is very nice."
I cracked up every time I thought of it for the rest of the day. I love when they visit. It brightens the whole office.
1) Everyone gets really excited.
2) The babies get too hot.
3) The big kids get mad because they can't wander off by themselves.
4) Everyone gets sun burnt, no matter how much sunscreen they are wearing.
5) I argue with Randy because he lives to buy the overpriced low quality food at the water park. ( And I am cheap cheap cheap )
As you can see, I eagerly anticipate tomorrow. I cannot wait.
Actually, despite all of the negative things above, we always end up having a really good time, especially when my sister's crew comes. I will have to tell you all about my sister someday soon. For now I will just say that she is one of my favorite people, which is really something considering that it wasn't too many years ago that the Barbie destroying fiend was my mortal enemy. So yes, even I, the cheap and negative mother, falls victim to thing 1. I am really excited!