Wow. Another year has come and gone.
Seems like it was only yesterday that I was the kid waiting for Christmas. When did I become the grown-up? How did that happen? I still feel like someone is going to come up to me in the store and ask me where my parents are, if I'm lost.
Some days it feels like I just woke up one morning in someone else's life. How did I get here? Whose children are these? Why do I have to pay bills, I'm not an adult.
Then days like today I get up and look back and feel every bit my age. I have a pre-teen daughter who thinks her friends having sex is cool. How do you handle THAT situation rationally? My first instinct is to lock her in her room and home school her forever.
To protect her from the real world.
But reason prevails.
Isn't it our experiences with real life that makes us into who we are? Over-protecting my child would only keep my child from becoming who she was meant to be.
I chose instead to educate her and let her make up her own mind.
Sex causes STDs, pregnancy. All it takes is one time.
Boys will have sex with you if you let them. But that won't make them love you.
Learn to love yourself.
(not like that)
(Although, that may not be a bad idea.....)
I'm so scared.
Dear God, please don't let my little girl get hurt.
I had no idea being a parent would hurt my heart so much.
I had no idea being a parent could make me feel like love is oozing out every pore of my skin.
I think I'm going to need therapy before it's all over. I can see it.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Why am I still here?
I've logged on several times to delete this blog completely, but I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. Like every other project I've ever started, I've let my writing fizzle out. I have at least a dozen uncompleted projects in my "craft area" - which has also become the dumping ground for miscellaneous household items. It seems the only thing I can finish these days is a book. Anyway, I slacked off on the writing because I didn't want to write about work (heard too many stories to want to risk that), too afraid to write about eccentric family members and I'm hardly around my kids to get good material to post.
Excuses, excuses.
The story of my life.
We took the kids to the shore today to take pictures for our Christmas card. Got home to find out I didn't get ANY good shots. So, do I go back tomorrow for re-takes, pick a new location that's a little closer to home or just forget it altogether?
See? I'll look for any excuse not to finish something....
I might let you know what I decide to do.
We'll see.
Excuses, excuses.
The story of my life.
We took the kids to the shore today to take pictures for our Christmas card. Got home to find out I didn't get ANY good shots. So, do I go back tomorrow for re-takes, pick a new location that's a little closer to home or just forget it altogether?
See? I'll look for any excuse not to finish something....
I might let you know what I decide to do.
We'll see.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Remember me?
Hubs won't stop harassing me to start writing again. I just kept putting it off, thinking I didn't have anything worth sharing. Now that I'm working, I don't have all those funny Caleb stories to tell and I can't think of much else to write about. Hubs said I should just start writing, even if it's about my shitty weekend I (literally) had. By the way, if you're trying to lose weight, a 48 hour stomach virus is a great way to start.
Speaking of Caleb, he just started pre-k. Does it make us bad parents for not even remotely feeling sad at the thought of our little boy starting school? The teacher's assistant at open house said "no crying on the first day of school." Hubs and I looked at each other, then at T/A and started laughing. Please tell me we're not the only parents to celebrate the start of school.
We'll probably throw a party when Logan starts school because it will mean we'll be completely out of the baby stage. Poor Logan. He gets the short end of the parent stick. When he starts gagging on cheerios, we just watch him and wait for him to gag it back up - rather than jumping up in a panic trying to help.
Yeah, we'll take that parenting award now, thanks.
It's nice to be back.
Speaking of Caleb, he just started pre-k. Does it make us bad parents for not even remotely feeling sad at the thought of our little boy starting school? The teacher's assistant at open house said "no crying on the first day of school." Hubs and I looked at each other, then at T/A and started laughing. Please tell me we're not the only parents to celebrate the start of school.
We'll probably throw a party when Logan starts school because it will mean we'll be completely out of the baby stage. Poor Logan. He gets the short end of the parent stick. When he starts gagging on cheerios, we just watch him and wait for him to gag it back up - rather than jumping up in a panic trying to help.
Yeah, we'll take that parenting award now, thanks.
It's nice to be back.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Lazy Saturday
The mother-in-law came this week to pick up the two oldest kids. She took them home with her to spend some time hanging out, which is nice. However, she didn't take the youngest kid. Apparently he's too much work or something....
Anyway, it's beautiful here today, so we decided to load up the little one and all the gear he requires and head over to the island for a couple of hours. Our regular spot was overcrowded, so we drove down to the residential section and parked by a public access spot. We didn't realize we'd have to hike through the woods and dunes and 500 degree sand to reach the actual water. It was well worth the hike though, because it was absolutely perfect. A nice, cool breeze was blowing and the water was so warm it felt like bath water. Even better, there weren't many people around.
We even stopped on the way home to take pictures of wildflowers growing on the side of the road.
Life just doesn't get much better than today.
Anyway, it's beautiful here today, so we decided to load up the little one and all the gear he requires and head over to the island for a couple of hours. Our regular spot was overcrowded, so we drove down to the residential section and parked by a public access spot. We didn't realize we'd have to hike through the woods and dunes and 500 degree sand to reach the actual water. It was well worth the hike though, because it was absolutely perfect. A nice, cool breeze was blowing and the water was so warm it felt like bath water. Even better, there weren't many people around.
We even stopped on the way home to take pictures of wildflowers growing on the side of the road.
Life just doesn't get much better than today.Saturday, June 2, 2007
"Hair" apparent
I have a love/hate relationship with my hair. I love the color, but I have zero skills when it comes to managing my mane. My hair is naturally thin and fine and I've never been able to create a style that will last past the front door. By the time I reach my destination, my hair usually looks something like this:
It has something to do with the humidity and blah blah blah. All I know is that a pony tail is about the only style I can manage.
Until recently.
I discovered the joys of one of those hair straightening/iron thingies. It came with a hairdryer I bought a couple years ago and last month I dug it out of the cabinet out of sheer frustration. I was on my way to an interview and desperate to try anything. To my utter amazement, my frizzy hair magically became straight, smooth and shiny.
This may sound like no big deal to you, but after 30 years of pony tails, it's a start. I have had an occasional decent 'do, but only when I've either paid someone or someone took pity on me for special occasions. For the first time in my life, people have actually complimented me on how my hair looked.
My poor daughter has even had to suffer. When all her friends had the cute braids, her braids were crooked and lopsided. I tried to stick to pony tails with her, but sometimes she'd beg for braids or for me to curl her hair. I'd try to indulge her, but it never ended pretty.
She finally caught on and quit asking for my help. Poor baby seems to have inherited locks identical to my own. I'm crossing my fingers that she'll have better luck figuring things out. Heaven knows I haven't been any help in this area. I've taught her how to burp like a man, but when it comes to doing hair - she's on her own.
It has something to do with the humidity and blah blah blah. All I know is that a pony tail is about the only style I can manage.
Until recently.
I discovered the joys of one of those hair straightening/iron thingies. It came with a hairdryer I bought a couple years ago and last month I dug it out of the cabinet out of sheer frustration. I was on my way to an interview and desperate to try anything. To my utter amazement, my frizzy hair magically became straight, smooth and shiny.
This may sound like no big deal to you, but after 30 years of pony tails, it's a start. I have had an occasional decent 'do, but only when I've either paid someone or someone took pity on me for special occasions. For the first time in my life, people have actually complimented me on how my hair looked.
My poor daughter has even had to suffer. When all her friends had the cute braids, her braids were crooked and lopsided. I tried to stick to pony tails with her, but sometimes she'd beg for braids or for me to curl her hair. I'd try to indulge her, but it never ended pretty.
She finally caught on and quit asking for my help. Poor baby seems to have inherited locks identical to my own. I'm crossing my fingers that she'll have better luck figuring things out. Heaven knows I haven't been any help in this area. I've taught her how to burp like a man, but when it comes to doing hair - she's on her own.
Note to self...
It's probably not a good idea to introduce "Baby Got Back" to a kid with a new butt obsession - the week before he leaves to spend time with his straight laced grandmother.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Long time, no see
Wow, time really got away from me this time. I had been so worn out after work that I passed out after the kids go to bed. Then last week the hubs and I discovered that NBC has every single episode of Heroes on their website, so we watched ALL 23 episodes last week. We know we're lame, and we're ok with that.
My paternal grandparents came over this past weekend. My grandmother's family was having a reunion in a town about an hour north of where we live. Before the actual reunion/supper we gathered at a museum that was dedicated to my grandmother's ancestors who immigrated to America from Germany/Austria in the 1700s. They fled Europe because they were persecuted for being Lutherans and were afraid for their lives. It was really neat to see all that history and to see that I was even listed in the book of descendants. I took a ton of pictures but I promise I won't bore you with all of them.
The sign at the entrance of the museum:
The original wing of the church. That's my cute little grandpa walking out the door.
The sign on the church door. According to the guide, this church has the longest continuing congregation in the United States.
Spinning wheel.
Original mill house.
It wouldn't be an original Miga post if I didn't put an embarrassing Caleb picture on here. He hitched a ride on his sister's back and bared his butt crack to the world. I couldn't resist snapping a picture.
It was nice to see my grandparents and other family. Even if I did feel a tiny bit guilty that I don't practice any religion after seeing all that my ancestors went through for their beliefs.
My paternal grandparents came over this past weekend. My grandmother's family was having a reunion in a town about an hour north of where we live. Before the actual reunion/supper we gathered at a museum that was dedicated to my grandmother's ancestors who immigrated to America from Germany/Austria in the 1700s. They fled Europe because they were persecuted for being Lutherans and were afraid for their lives. It was really neat to see all that history and to see that I was even listed in the book of descendants. I took a ton of pictures but I promise I won't bore you with all of them.
The sign at the entrance of the museum:
The original wing of the church. That's my cute little grandpa walking out the door.
The sign on the church door. According to the guide, this church has the longest continuing congregation in the United States.
Spinning wheel.
Original mill house.
It wouldn't be an original Miga post if I didn't put an embarrassing Caleb picture on here. He hitched a ride on his sister's back and bared his butt crack to the world. I couldn't resist snapping a picture.
It was nice to see my grandparents and other family. Even if I did feel a tiny bit guilty that I don't practice any religion after seeing all that my ancestors went through for their beliefs.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Overheard in my house
"Daddy! You have a penis, just like me!"
"Uh, yep. I sure do."
"Mama and Sissy lost their penises."
"Ummmm, I don't think they lost them. Girls just don't have penises. Only boys have a penis."
"Well, that's ok. They can go to the penis store and get a new one!"
"Uh, yep. I sure do."
"Mama and Sissy lost their penises."
"Ummmm, I don't think they lost them. Girls just don't have penises. Only boys have a penis."
"Well, that's ok. They can go to the penis store and get a new one!"
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Chicken nuggets and corn dogs
So.
Uhhhh.
Work?
It's kickin my behind.
I've only been there three days and I'm exhausted. It's not the actual work tiring me out, it's more the stress of a new place, learning new and "important" things, new people (I'm a total introvert, so it's hard to force myself to interact) all mixed with my usual insomnia. Makes for a great combination.
To make matters more interesting, I can't poop when I'm stressed. Right now I'm walking around looking like I'm five months pregnant and my clothes are too tight. Ex-lax is out of the question. Really, like I need to have uncontrollable diarrhea in a public restroom? No thanks, I'll just drink more water and try to remember to breathe during the day.
I'm enjoying the actual work and everyone has been really nice. (I've even been treated to TWO company lunches so far!)
What's really sad about the whole situation? The best part of my entire first day was when I was told that I get to delegate some admin work. It was like I had an "I've arrived" moment. I'm still a low person on the totem pole, but I'm not the lowest anymore. It's a great feeling to actually see all these years of hard work pay off a little.
Also? I appreciate my kids more. I'm so happy to see Logan's toothless grin when I walk in the door.
And the other two kids? Well, let's just say it's a good thing they like chicken nuggets and corn dogs because it's all I'm cooking for a while.
Uhhhh.
Work?
It's kickin my behind.
I've only been there three days and I'm exhausted. It's not the actual work tiring me out, it's more the stress of a new place, learning new and "important" things, new people (I'm a total introvert, so it's hard to force myself to interact) all mixed with my usual insomnia. Makes for a great combination.
To make matters more interesting, I can't poop when I'm stressed. Right now I'm walking around looking like I'm five months pregnant and my clothes are too tight. Ex-lax is out of the question. Really, like I need to have uncontrollable diarrhea in a public restroom? No thanks, I'll just drink more water and try to remember to breathe during the day.
I'm enjoying the actual work and everyone has been really nice. (I've even been treated to TWO company lunches so far!)
What's really sad about the whole situation? The best part of my entire first day was when I was told that I get to delegate some admin work. It was like I had an "I've arrived" moment. I'm still a low person on the totem pole, but I'm not the lowest anymore. It's a great feeling to actually see all these years of hard work pay off a little.
Also? I appreciate my kids more. I'm so happy to see Logan's toothless grin when I walk in the door.
And the other two kids? Well, let's just say it's a good thing they like chicken nuggets and corn dogs because it's all I'm cooking for a while.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Yeehaw Ya'll!
I gots me a jay-oh-bee!
(Have I mentioned I'm from Georgia?)
Anyway, it's been a long month, with regards to the job hunt.
The first job I told you about? I went to the interview, took a typing test and waited. and waited. So I called. HR director said he was just waiting for the CFO to be in the office so he could run his picks by her.
Tuesday: (A week later) I get a call from the HR director. He wanted to know if I was still interested in the job. I say yes. He says great. CFO will be calling me personally to set up interview. I get confirmation email.
Wednesday: I get a phone call. From job #2. They want to know if I can come in for an interview. I say sure. Can't hurt right? Still no call from job #1.
Thursday:Go to interview for job #2. Told to expect an answer late Monday afternoon. Still no word from job #1.
Friday: Get phone call from job #3 ( a staffing agency). Can I come to Savannah Monday to take placement tests? Why the heck not? Sure, I'll be there.
Monday morning: Get phone call from job #2. Do I have references they can contact? Sure, I'll email you my reference page. Take kids to doctor for check-up. Wait one hour in waiting room with little sickies running around my healthy kids.
Monday afternoon: Rush home, get ready. Drive to Savannah. Take 3 hours worth of tests, fill out enough paperwork to apply for a mortgage. Told not good enough for bank job, thanks anyway. Still no word from job #1. No word from job #2.
Tuesday. No word from anyone. Call job #2 at 4pm to "make sure they got my references" ::cough, cough:: Yep, they got them. Just can't get references to return phone calls, but I am at the top of their list. ::scream after hanging up phone:: 5pm: phone rings. FINALLY heard back from former boss, can I be there Wednesday at 10am to meet the owner? Ab-so-frickin'-lutely!
Wednesday (TODAY!): Meet with owner, offered job by lady to be my supervisor. Start work Friday. (still no word from job #1, lol)
I can't tell you how excited I am. I will finally have a job that is more than just answering phones and typing letters. I will actually get to use all this schooling and get to shine like the number nerd I am.
The only problem? I don't have ANY clothes to wear. I literally have three outfits, that's it. Oh, and no money to go shopping with.
On another note.....Bon Jovi is on American Idol tonight.
I *heart* Bon Jovi!
::SIGH::
(Have I mentioned I'm from Georgia?)
Anyway, it's been a long month, with regards to the job hunt.
The first job I told you about? I went to the interview, took a typing test and waited. and waited. So I called. HR director said he was just waiting for the CFO to be in the office so he could run his picks by her.
Tuesday: (A week later) I get a call from the HR director. He wanted to know if I was still interested in the job. I say yes. He says great. CFO will be calling me personally to set up interview. I get confirmation email.
Wednesday: I get a phone call. From job #2. They want to know if I can come in for an interview. I say sure. Can't hurt right? Still no call from job #1.
Thursday:Go to interview for job #2. Told to expect an answer late Monday afternoon. Still no word from job #1.
Friday: Get phone call from job #3 ( a staffing agency). Can I come to Savannah Monday to take placement tests? Why the heck not? Sure, I'll be there.
Monday morning: Get phone call from job #2. Do I have references they can contact? Sure, I'll email you my reference page. Take kids to doctor for check-up. Wait one hour in waiting room with little sickies running around my healthy kids.
Monday afternoon: Rush home, get ready. Drive to Savannah. Take 3 hours worth of tests, fill out enough paperwork to apply for a mortgage. Told not good enough for bank job, thanks anyway. Still no word from job #1. No word from job #2.
Tuesday. No word from anyone. Call job #2 at 4pm to "make sure they got my references" ::cough, cough:: Yep, they got them. Just can't get references to return phone calls, but I am at the top of their list. ::scream after hanging up phone:: 5pm: phone rings. FINALLY heard back from former boss, can I be there Wednesday at 10am to meet the owner? Ab-so-frickin'-lutely!
Wednesday (TODAY!): Meet with owner, offered job by lady to be my supervisor. Start work Friday. (still no word from job #1, lol)
I can't tell you how excited I am. I will finally have a job that is more than just answering phones and typing letters. I will actually get to use all this schooling and get to shine like the number nerd I am.
The only problem? I don't have ANY clothes to wear. I literally have three outfits, that's it. Oh, and no money to go shopping with.
On another note.....Bon Jovi is on American Idol tonight.
I *heart* Bon Jovi!
::SIGH::
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Wake up and smell the coffee
I know you already think I'm weird. Now I'm going to prove just how weird I really am.
Sometimes I smell coffee when I wake up.
What's so weird about that?
There's no coffee being brewed anywhere near me, yet I smell it as if it's being brewed in the next room.
I've even woke up on several occasions in the middle of the night, swearing that I smelled something burning. I had to get out of bed and prowl the house to ease my mind before I could go back to sleep. Everyone would be sound asleep and tucked safely in their beds. I wouldn't smell smoke anywhere in the house, until I laid back down.
I dunno, it's the weirdest thing.
Since I'm still smelling the coffee and I had a rough night with the baby, I'm going to brew me a pot right now. If I'm smelling coffee, might as well have some, right?
Yeah, analyze that Dr. Freud!
Sometimes I smell coffee when I wake up.
What's so weird about that?
There's no coffee being brewed anywhere near me, yet I smell it as if it's being brewed in the next room.
I've even woke up on several occasions in the middle of the night, swearing that I smelled something burning. I had to get out of bed and prowl the house to ease my mind before I could go back to sleep. Everyone would be sound asleep and tucked safely in their beds. I wouldn't smell smoke anywhere in the house, until I laid back down.
I dunno, it's the weirdest thing.
Since I'm still smelling the coffee and I had a rough night with the baby, I'm going to brew me a pot right now. If I'm smelling coffee, might as well have some, right?
Yeah, analyze that Dr. Freud!
Friday, April 27, 2007
We're Soaring.....
We're Flying.....
I curse the Disney Channel and their oh-so-popular "High School: The Musical".
(Please, oh please, click the link. I want someone else to get it stuck in their head too.)
It's not enough I had to listen to all the songs all summer long, and subsequently, sing them all day long because I can't seem to get that wretched song out of my head.
Oh nooooooo.
They had to re-air the movie tonight with commercial breaks to teach the dance moves to the last song.
Since the husband works late on Friday nights, it's become a ritual of sorts for me and J to watch a movie or tv show after the boys are in bed. (See! Caleb isn't my only child!) Tonight "High School: The Musical" was the winner and now, two hours later, I'm still humming that stupid song.
God help me, they're making a sequel.
So, "Get Your Head in the Game" cause "We're SOARING! We're FLYING!"
I curse the Disney Channel and their oh-so-popular "High School: The Musical".
(Please, oh please, click the link. I want someone else to get it stuck in their head too.)
It's not enough I had to listen to all the songs all summer long, and subsequently, sing them all day long because I can't seem to get that wretched song out of my head.
Oh nooooooo.
They had to re-air the movie tonight with commercial breaks to teach the dance moves to the last song.
Since the husband works late on Friday nights, it's become a ritual of sorts for me and J to watch a movie or tv show after the boys are in bed. (See! Caleb isn't my only child!) Tonight "High School: The Musical" was the winner and now, two hours later, I'm still humming that stupid song.
God help me, they're making a sequel.
So, "Get Your Head in the Game" cause "We're SOARING! We're FLYING!"
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Not quite what I imagined....
I have been working on my bachelor's degree for over 5 years now (10 if you count completing my Associate's) . I've had to take several breaks for various reasons but I've always gone back.
Hearing about how my sisters and all my cousins are finishing school after the "right amount" of time makes me feel less than adequate. It's nothing they've done, it's just that sometimes I feel like I could have done better.
There is finally a light at the end of the tunnel - I graduate in two months. (Cue the hallelujah chorus)
I've been sending out resumes all over the southern portion of the state trying to find any job that will allow me to use my degree. I've only heard back from TWO places. One (the one I mentioned the other day) will still have me being someone's admin assistant, but with better pay. The other (which I interview for tomorrow) will actually have me doing accounting from the get go. Neither have made me an offer, so I'm trying not to get my hopes up.
I'm just feeling a little discouraged. The thought that has kept me going all these years was that once I had my degree, things would change. I just knew I'd find a decent job and we wouldn't have to worry anymore about which bills we could pay and how much gas we could afford to put in the vehicle this week.
Like Kat Williams said, "You shouldn't have to be making life decisions at the gas pump." :)
I didn't think we'd be rich by any means, I just hoped that more doors would open and I'd have more options.
For now it seems I'm in that awkward phase - no one wants me for piddly bookkeeping because I'm "over qualified" and the accountants don't want me because I don't have enough experience yet.
I'm sure it will all fall into place soon. This is a good time to practice patience, something I'm not so good with.
PMS doesn't help either.
Hearing about how my sisters and all my cousins are finishing school after the "right amount" of time makes me feel less than adequate. It's nothing they've done, it's just that sometimes I feel like I could have done better.
There is finally a light at the end of the tunnel - I graduate in two months. (Cue the hallelujah chorus)
I've been sending out resumes all over the southern portion of the state trying to find any job that will allow me to use my degree. I've only heard back from TWO places. One (the one I mentioned the other day) will still have me being someone's admin assistant, but with better pay. The other (which I interview for tomorrow) will actually have me doing accounting from the get go. Neither have made me an offer, so I'm trying not to get my hopes up.
I'm just feeling a little discouraged. The thought that has kept me going all these years was that once I had my degree, things would change. I just knew I'd find a decent job and we wouldn't have to worry anymore about which bills we could pay and how much gas we could afford to put in the vehicle this week.
Like Kat Williams said, "You shouldn't have to be making life decisions at the gas pump." :)
I didn't think we'd be rich by any means, I just hoped that more doors would open and I'd have more options.
For now it seems I'm in that awkward phase - no one wants me for piddly bookkeeping because I'm "over qualified" and the accountants don't want me because I don't have enough experience yet.
I'm sure it will all fall into place soon. This is a good time to practice patience, something I'm not so good with.
PMS doesn't help either.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
At least he's honest....
We live in a very small town, so it is necessary to travel approximately 15 miles at least once a week to the neighboring town to do business.
Last week I found myself once again loading up the kids to make an "emergency" trip to the next town to find something to wear to my unexpected interview.
We were about half way there when Caleb pipes up from the back seat:
"Mom?"
"Yes Caleb?"
"I think we need to go back home and get the paddle."
"We won't need the paddle today. I know you're going to be on your best behavior for me."
"I don't think so."
P.S. He behaved just fine. A stick of gum is a wonderful bribery tool.
Last week I found myself once again loading up the kids to make an "emergency" trip to the next town to find something to wear to my unexpected interview.
We were about half way there when Caleb pipes up from the back seat:
"Mom?"
"Yes Caleb?"
"I think we need to go back home and get the paddle."
"We won't need the paddle today. I know you're going to be on your best behavior for me."
"I don't think so."
P.S. He behaved just fine. A stick of gum is a wonderful bribery tool.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Cross your fingers....
So I had a job interview this week. I decided that since I'm only months from finishing my degree that it'd be a good idea to get started on the job search. This job would be pretty nice and we'd finally have some breathing room - financially speaking. The HR director told me he'd let me know by Tuesday if they want me back for a second interview.
I hate interviews. I am NOT good at selling myself because I prefer to let my work speak for itself.
Why is it that I can think of intelligent responses to inane questions hours after the interview is over?
Seriously, this guy asked me how I handle conflict when a boss is losing their temper. That should be a sign right there that I should run for the hills.
My initial answer: "I usually let them vent and go on about my way, trying to get my work done."
My on-the-ride-home-in-my-head-answer: "I take that bitch by the shoulders and tell that her to get ahold of herself - I deal with enough tantrums at home and I come to work to escape them."
Eh, maybe it's a good thing I don't know a good answer right away.
I hate interviews. I am NOT good at selling myself because I prefer to let my work speak for itself.
Why is it that I can think of intelligent responses to inane questions hours after the interview is over?
Seriously, this guy asked me how I handle conflict when a boss is losing their temper. That should be a sign right there that I should run for the hills.
My initial answer: "I usually let them vent and go on about my way, trying to get my work done."
My on-the-ride-home-in-my-head-answer: "I take that bitch by the shoulders and tell that her to get ahold of herself - I deal with enough tantrums at home and I come to work to escape them."
Eh, maybe it's a good thing I don't know a good answer right away.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Emotional Baggage
Well this week marked the 25th anniversary of my mother's death. She was killed in a car accident when I was only five.
It was only a couple of years ago when I actually realized how much rage I was suppressing. I went through a period of being angry at my step-father because he was the one who was driving when the accident happened. I was angry at the driver of the semi-truck because he crashed into the back of my mother's car, causing her to be trapped in a car that was on fire. I was angry at the judge for making me go live with my father, taking me from all the people I knew and loved. I was angry at my father for allowing my step-mother to abuse me, while doing the same himself.
I also lost my faith, which is really ironic because my middle name is Faith.
I lost my faith in God when it was explained to me that God took my mother because he needed her in heaven to take care of the babies. I know my family meant well and had no idea what to say. But it pissed me off. I was angry that God would take my mother, because I needed her, those babies could have someone else's mother.
I lost my faith in people in general when my own father abused me and allowed his wife take out her jealousy of my mother on a mere child.
Her death hit me hardest as an adult and every year at this time, I tend to lose my stuff. Only I don't tell anyone what's going on, I just go off my rocker. The process has been painfully slow, but this year has by far been the best year. I didn't cry. I didn't hide in my house. I didn't freak out while watching a movie that involved a child losing his mother. I just noted the day in my head, hugged my kids a little tighter and went on about my day. I know she would have loved my children to pieces and she would have been honored to learn that my daughter was her namesake.
I still have some anger, but I've made peace with most everything. I tend to have setbacks when I have to deal with my father, but I've made tons of progress. I still haven't regained my faith, but I'm working on it.
I'm learning to focus on the good things. I have three healthy, beautiful children. I have a husband that loves me. I'm thirty years old and I still have all four of my grandparents - they're all reasonably healthy and (for the most part, lol) have healthy mind capacity. I have an aunt who loves me as if I were her own child and cousins that I'm closer to than my own half-sisters.
So see, my life may have gotten off to a rough start, but I sure am lucky to be where I'm at and to have the love of so many great people. I'm just glad I "woke up" before it was too late to enjoy the good things.
It was only a couple of years ago when I actually realized how much rage I was suppressing. I went through a period of being angry at my step-father because he was the one who was driving when the accident happened. I was angry at the driver of the semi-truck because he crashed into the back of my mother's car, causing her to be trapped in a car that was on fire. I was angry at the judge for making me go live with my father, taking me from all the people I knew and loved. I was angry at my father for allowing my step-mother to abuse me, while doing the same himself.
I also lost my faith, which is really ironic because my middle name is Faith.
I lost my faith in God when it was explained to me that God took my mother because he needed her in heaven to take care of the babies. I know my family meant well and had no idea what to say. But it pissed me off. I was angry that God would take my mother, because I needed her, those babies could have someone else's mother.
I lost my faith in people in general when my own father abused me and allowed his wife take out her jealousy of my mother on a mere child.
Her death hit me hardest as an adult and every year at this time, I tend to lose my stuff. Only I don't tell anyone what's going on, I just go off my rocker. The process has been painfully slow, but this year has by far been the best year. I didn't cry. I didn't hide in my house. I didn't freak out while watching a movie that involved a child losing his mother. I just noted the day in my head, hugged my kids a little tighter and went on about my day. I know she would have loved my children to pieces and she would have been honored to learn that my daughter was her namesake.
I still have some anger, but I've made peace with most everything. I tend to have setbacks when I have to deal with my father, but I've made tons of progress. I still haven't regained my faith, but I'm working on it.
I'm learning to focus on the good things. I have three healthy, beautiful children. I have a husband that loves me. I'm thirty years old and I still have all four of my grandparents - they're all reasonably healthy and (for the most part, lol) have healthy mind capacity. I have an aunt who loves me as if I were her own child and cousins that I'm closer to than my own half-sisters.
So see, my life may have gotten off to a rough start, but I sure am lucky to be where I'm at and to have the love of so many great people. I'm just glad I "woke up" before it was too late to enjoy the good things.
Still trying to recover
Last week I was feeling bored and thought that maybe I don't have enough to do.
So I took a road trip over the weekend.
With all three children.
By myself.
And before I left I decided to up the supermom mentality and crochet a blanket for my grandparents.
Nope, finishing school and raising three children aren't enough for me. I have to do more.
Anyway, the trip itself was not that bad. The kids watched movies and we stopped about once every hour. We were able to see the in-laws, my paternal grandparents, my maternal grandparents and my aunt and uncles. It really was nice to see everyone - but as the saying goes, there's no place like home.
When we got back home, the husband greeted us and asked Caleb what we did while we were gone.
I was hoping he would mention something like running around outside in open fields with the dogs, or riding the tractor with his grandfather, or swinging with his great-grandfather, or playing the piano or playing the guitar with my uncle. But nooooooo.
My child? What does he remember the most?
"Mom let me pee in a cup!"
Ahhh, making memories, it's what I do best.
So I took a road trip over the weekend.
With all three children.
By myself.
And before I left I decided to up the supermom mentality and crochet a blanket for my grandparents.
Nope, finishing school and raising three children aren't enough for me. I have to do more.
Anyway, the trip itself was not that bad. The kids watched movies and we stopped about once every hour. We were able to see the in-laws, my paternal grandparents, my maternal grandparents and my aunt and uncles. It really was nice to see everyone - but as the saying goes, there's no place like home.
When we got back home, the husband greeted us and asked Caleb what we did while we were gone.
I was hoping he would mention something like running around outside in open fields with the dogs, or riding the tractor with his grandfather, or swinging with his great-grandfather, or playing the piano or playing the guitar with my uncle. But nooooooo.
My child? What does he remember the most?
"Mom let me pee in a cup!"
Ahhh, making memories, it's what I do best.
Friday, March 23, 2007
The Caleb
Son #1 often refers to himself in the third person, either as "the son" or "the Caleb". It's cute now, so we don't correct him. When he's older? I'll definitely say something because nothing is creepier than being hit on by a guy in a bar who refers to himself in the third person.
Moving on.
I took sons 1 and 2 with me to pick up the daughter from 4-H. One lady that we had not seen in a while tried to strike up a conversation with son #1.
Lady: Hi there! I haven't seen you in a while, what have you been up to?
Son: *SIGH* I still the Caleb.
And he turned and walked off.
He's lucky he's cute.
Moving on.
I took sons 1 and 2 with me to pick up the daughter from 4-H. One lady that we had not seen in a while tried to strike up a conversation with son #1.
Lady: Hi there! I haven't seen you in a while, what have you been up to?
Son: *SIGH* I still the Caleb.
And he turned and walked off.
He's lucky he's cute.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Pardon the mess
I'm in the painful process of attempting to learn web design. Things are likely to change at any moment and are VERY likely to be wonky. Hopefully I'll get it figured out soon.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Feelin the love
I feel special! I was mentioned in the latest edition of the Georgia Carnival. Who knew my mundane post about cleaning the house would catch someone's attention? Anyway, please go check out the Georgia Carnival at Bill's blog - Provocative Church - and take a look at all the other submissions. He put a lot of hard work into hosting this "carnival" thing (I don't know what else to call it). Anyway, it's neat to see what other Georgians are writing about, although I felt somewhat out of place when I noticed no one else was discussing farts. :)
Saturday, March 17, 2007
I decided to go on a safari today
Seemed fitting since my house is like a zoo. Here's the picture I had taken - the wildlife was AMAZING!
I even found my own pot of gold!
I even found my own pot of gold!
Close to home
Last week the disappearance of a six year old boy was announced. He lived in the next town over, so this story was particularly terrifying for me. My heart instantly went out to this child's parents. I couldn't even begin to imagine the terror and anguish this child's parents were feeling. Tragically, Christopher Michael Barrios Jr.'s body was found Thursday, March 15th. His body was found only three miles from his home.
Police have arrested four people in connection with Christopher's murder. George Edenfield is the one actually charged with the homicide. He was a known sex offender. The other three people? George Edenfield's parents and a friend. These people KNEW George Edenfield had murdered this child. These people KNEW that hundreds of people were out looking for this child. Yet, they helped George Edenfield place this child's body in a fucking TRASH BAG and dump his body in the woods. Burning in hell would be too good for these people.
If there were a way, I'd make these people pay with more than a prison term. I'd find a way to experience the heartache Christopher's parents felt. I'd find a way to make them experience the pain and confusion Christopher must have felt, as only a six year old child can.
But I don't have that power. All I can do is pay tribute to Christopher here and hug my own children a little tighter tonight.
Rest in peace little Christopher. May your parents one day find peace also.
Police have arrested four people in connection with Christopher's murder. George Edenfield is the one actually charged with the homicide. He was a known sex offender. The other three people? George Edenfield's parents and a friend. These people KNEW George Edenfield had murdered this child. These people KNEW that hundreds of people were out looking for this child. Yet, they helped George Edenfield place this child's body in a fucking TRASH BAG and dump his body in the woods. Burning in hell would be too good for these people.
If there were a way, I'd make these people pay with more than a prison term. I'd find a way to experience the heartache Christopher's parents felt. I'd find a way to make them experience the pain and confusion Christopher must have felt, as only a six year old child can.
But I don't have that power. All I can do is pay tribute to Christopher here and hug my own children a little tighter tonight.
Rest in peace little Christopher. May your parents one day find peace also.Thursday, March 8, 2007
Cleaning house
My mother-in-law announced last week that she'll be visiting this weekend. Well, she did ask if the dates were ok with us - she didn't say she was coming and there was nothing we can do about it.
Just thought I'd clear that up.
Anyway, when I learn that my MIL will be visiting, I have a moment of panic.
This woman's house is spotless - even when all three boy children lived at home her house was spotless. I am intimidated by her spotlessness.
My house has never been spotless. It's come close a few times, but I don't think I've ever achieved spotlessness.
MIL would never be so rude as to say anything about the state of our house, but I can't help but feel self conscious about her visit.
In anticipation of THE VISIT, I usually start cleaning a full week ahead of time, so I won't have to spend one entire day cleaning.
Yesterday I decided to try to clean our shower.
Our shower has been gross since we moved in. I've used nearly every bathroom cleaner known to man trying to get this shower clean. Nothing worked. So, I stopped trying. I mean, if you can't tell it's clean when it is clean, why bother cleaning? Make sense? Thought so.
I found this new cleaner and thought I'd give it a try. Could hurt, right? It turned out to be the miracle cleaner and I was so beyond thrilled to have found something that actually worked!
TWO HOURS LATER.....
Our shower was finally clean. It was so clean, my husband could tell a difference. (love you honey)
It's so sad that I got such a great sense of accomplishment from simply cleaning a bath tub/shower.
It's even sadder that I couldn't shut up about it when my husband got home.
Me: "Look honey! It's clean! Can you believe how clean it looks? I don't think it's been this clean since we've moved in."
Husband: "Hell, I don't think it's ever been that clean."
Good man.
He knows how to shut me up, all I need is a little recognition and I'll return to my corner.
Now, for the rest of the house....
Just thought I'd clear that up.
Anyway, when I learn that my MIL will be visiting, I have a moment of panic.
This woman's house is spotless - even when all three boy children lived at home her house was spotless. I am intimidated by her spotlessness.
My house has never been spotless. It's come close a few times, but I don't think I've ever achieved spotlessness.
MIL would never be so rude as to say anything about the state of our house, but I can't help but feel self conscious about her visit.
In anticipation of THE VISIT, I usually start cleaning a full week ahead of time, so I won't have to spend one entire day cleaning.
Yesterday I decided to try to clean our shower.
Our shower has been gross since we moved in. I've used nearly every bathroom cleaner known to man trying to get this shower clean. Nothing worked. So, I stopped trying. I mean, if you can't tell it's clean when it is clean, why bother cleaning? Make sense? Thought so.
I found this new cleaner and thought I'd give it a try. Could hurt, right? It turned out to be the miracle cleaner and I was so beyond thrilled to have found something that actually worked!
TWO HOURS LATER.....
Our shower was finally clean. It was so clean, my husband could tell a difference. (love you honey)
It's so sad that I got such a great sense of accomplishment from simply cleaning a bath tub/shower.
It's even sadder that I couldn't shut up about it when my husband got home.
Me: "Look honey! It's clean! Can you believe how clean it looks? I don't think it's been this clean since we've moved in."
Husband: "Hell, I don't think it's ever been that clean."
Good man.
He knows how to shut me up, all I need is a little recognition and I'll return to my corner.
Now, for the rest of the house....
Saturday, March 3, 2007
But wait! There's more!
Logan (the baby) still wakes up somewhere between 3 and 5 every morning to eat. In an effort to keep things dark, I only use the tv for light, with the sound turned down low. I don't want anything distracting the kid and keeping him up a minute more than he needs to scarf down his bottle and fall back asleep. So the other morning, I was subjected to staring at an infomercial for the Magic Bullet, because I can't reach for the remote for fear that the slightest movement might cause the kid to wake up. Mick (or Mike, I can't remember) and Mimi are the most annoying people on the planet but they whip up some impressive stuff in a small amount of time.
Have you seen this infomercial? I'd be soooo pissed if I were staying at someone's house and woke to a frickin sales presentation before I'd had my coffee. There'd be headless bodies abound, trust me.
I don't know if it was delirium or subliminal messages, but I almost found myself ordering this stupid thing because I could get TWO for the price of ONE! Everyone needs TWO magic bullets, don't they? Luckily, my extreme desire for a few more hours of sleep won that internal struggle and, I am proud to announce, I did NOT order any new kitchen appliances.
Is that how infomercials are so successful? The insomniacs are so out of their heads that anything sounds good? People are hawking ideas for goodness sake and they're making money, lots of money.
Since I'm trying to avoid cleaning the house and I've had too much coffee this morning, I've decided to write my own infomercial - tell me what you think:
Announcer: Ladies, are you tired of your kids hanging on you all day, only to have your husband come home and try to show you some affection? Mama Miga has developed a revolutionary plan to end this problem.
With tips such as:
Susie Q: I tried Mama Miga's program and was shocked with how fast I saw results. It's AMAZING! My husband hasn't tried to touch me in WEEKS!
Announcer: If you act today, we'll give you Mama Miga's "Alienation of Affection" plan for not $300, not $200, not $100 but for only four easy payments of $24.99. As a special bonus we'll also include Mama Miga's "Guide to Making Your Children do ALL the Housework While You Sip Margaritas and Chat on the Phone " for FREE!
Operators are standing by.
I'm going to be rich, I just know it.
Have you seen this infomercial? I'd be soooo pissed if I were staying at someone's house and woke to a frickin sales presentation before I'd had my coffee. There'd be headless bodies abound, trust me.
I don't know if it was delirium or subliminal messages, but I almost found myself ordering this stupid thing because I could get TWO for the price of ONE! Everyone needs TWO magic bullets, don't they? Luckily, my extreme desire for a few more hours of sleep won that internal struggle and, I am proud to announce, I did NOT order any new kitchen appliances.
Is that how infomercials are so successful? The insomniacs are so out of their heads that anything sounds good? People are hawking ideas for goodness sake and they're making money, lots of money.
Since I'm trying to avoid cleaning the house and I've had too much coffee this morning, I've decided to write my own infomercial - tell me what you think:
Announcer: Ladies, are you tired of your kids hanging on you all day, only to have your husband come home and try to show you some affection? Mama Miga has developed a revolutionary plan to end this problem.
With tips such as:
- Fart on your husband's nut sack during sex, or
- Bribe your child with the promise of candy to poop on the toilet so he comes bursting in the bedroom while you're in the middle having sex asking you to wipe his butt and give him his candy.
Susie Q: I tried Mama Miga's program and was shocked with how fast I saw results. It's AMAZING! My husband hasn't tried to touch me in WEEKS!
Announcer: If you act today, we'll give you Mama Miga's "Alienation of Affection" plan for not $300, not $200, not $100 but for only four easy payments of $24.99. As a special bonus we'll also include Mama Miga's "Guide to Making Your Children do ALL the Housework While You Sip Margaritas and Chat on the Phone " for FREE!
Operators are standing by.
I'm going to be rich, I just know it.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Scarring my kids for life
Destroying the play room is hard work for a three year old boy. Like Pend said last month, my kids are going to end up on Oprah talking about me.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
I'm on the edge maaaannnn
In my current quest to lose weight, I've succumbed to the propaganda aimed at millions of desperate women and bought myself some of those oh so convenient freezer meals. I figure it'd help me to eat a little healthier without having to resort to cottage cheese and rice cakes. I'm pretty sure that I have tried every single brand and I have (mostly) settled on a brand that most suits my picky-ass palate. All that being said, I heated up one of my trusty little meals the other night - forgoing the chicken nuggets the kids were eating. I carefully selected my entree' with hopes that my hunger would be adequately satisfied. The brand I've come to love has, for the most part, fairly represented their product's appearance and portion size with a lovely picture on the carton.
Until this weekend.
This is what I chose:
Look carefully at that picture. I can count at least eight little ravioli.
This - is what I got.
That's right. Four and one half ravioli. Bastards! How dare they mess with me in my hunger-induced fragile state?!
Maybe I'll have a bitch fit AND write a letter.
Until this weekend.
This is what I chose:
Look carefully at that picture. I can count at least eight little ravioli.
This - is what I got.
That's right. Four and one half ravioli. Bastards! How dare they mess with me in my hunger-induced fragile state?!
Maybe I'll have a bitch fit AND write a letter.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Your Mama Don't Dance
And neither do I. As described in a previous post, I lack that certain grace it takes to walk across the room so I gave up trying to dance a long time ago. It's sad because I love music and dancing fascinates me but I know that dancing isn't my thing and I'm ok with that. I am perfectly content to keep my behind parked in a chair when I go to clubs or weddings. When no one is looking, I will occasionally dance with the kids when we're being silly but even my best efforts end up looking like this guy's version of "washing the laundry"
Via: VideoSift
Via: VideoSift
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Weekend Stuff
My mother-in-law has started a "thing" with the kids where she sends them a little activity every few weeks. This week they got a package with directions for making chocolate covered cookie lollipops. After we were done making the lollipops, Julia and the husband went to the Father/Daughter Valentine's dance at her school. Instead of emailing family individual pictures, I just created a photoshow to make for easier viewing. Anyway, I thought I'd share the photoshow with you guys. Be sure to notice how wonderfully dressed the kids are and how spectacularly clean the house is. Enjoy...
**video removed to get rid of the annoying music**
**video removed to get rid of the annoying music**
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Want some cheese with that whine?
By nature, I'm not a social person. I freeze up when I'm in group situations and I do my best to blend into the walls. If I have to walk across a room full of people and someone laughs, a little voice deep down tries to convince me that they're laughing at me. It's completely arrogant to think that people think about me that much, but it happens every single time. Oh yeah, when I am faced with conflict I usually stutter and stammer, only to come up with an intelligent response 2 hours later.
I don't "do" church, mom groups and things of that nature. We have been in our little town for over two years and (no joke) I haven't made a single friend. I just don't fit it in - mainly because I'm not racist, homophobic, conservative, Christian or strictly Republican.
My closest friend lives 4 hours away and we only talk on the phone about once a month and we only see each other maybe 3 times a year. Usually I am content to sit at home with my equally hermit husband and watch movies or read (we'd really love to travel, but that costs money and we're kinda low on that right now). Content that is, until I hit that emotional wall. You know the one I'm talking about, right?
It happens when I've kept everything bottled up and I give and give without ever getting anything in return emotionally. I don't expect anyone to make me happy, it's just frustrating when I can't get a few moments to myself to just clear my mind. When I hit my wall, I become a raging bitch for a few days until I've relieved enough pressure to act "normal" again. I will generally hide in the computer room as much as I possible so I can try to avoid unnecessarily yelling at the kids for just being kids.
So, I hit "the wall" again yesterday. I was so mean my husband brought me a bottle of wine last night. He said he had to bring home some sort of a peace offering. Now I feel like a total ass.
My problem this time is that I'm struggling with insecurities of not being able to find a job, when it's always been easy for me. I'm struggling with being the fattest I've ever been in my life, even though I've never truly been happy with my body - even when I was a size 3. I miss my husband. He lost his job 3 weeks before the baby was born and has had to take a (much) lower paying job that keeps him away from home until late at night. The kids miss him and I miss him and he misses us. I want time alone with my husband - we haven't been off together in over four YEARS. I'm worried about our finances. I'm sick of being stuck at home because we're back down to one vehicle. I'm trying to finish school and am having a hard time concentrating. I feel guilty because we can't afford preschool for Caleb anymore and he's stuck at home with a mom who doesn't have a clue about how to teach him. It just goes on and on and on.
It's times like this when I secretly wish I was more social and broad network of friends to distract me. But isn't that a selfish reason to make "friends"? I think I just need a break. That's all, just a break. Then I'll get back to doing what everyone else does on a daily basis and quit trying to be such a martyr.
Ah well, it's only three hours til bedtime, then I can crack open the bottle of wine (making sure I mangle the cork as I always do) and watch trash tv. In the meantime, maybe a brownie will help lighten my mood. It sure won't help lighten the scales, but it might help my mood a little ;)
I don't "do" church, mom groups and things of that nature. We have been in our little town for over two years and (no joke) I haven't made a single friend. I just don't fit it in - mainly because I'm not racist, homophobic, conservative, Christian or strictly Republican.
My closest friend lives 4 hours away and we only talk on the phone about once a month and we only see each other maybe 3 times a year. Usually I am content to sit at home with my equally hermit husband and watch movies or read (we'd really love to travel, but that costs money and we're kinda low on that right now). Content that is, until I hit that emotional wall. You know the one I'm talking about, right?
It happens when I've kept everything bottled up and I give and give without ever getting anything in return emotionally. I don't expect anyone to make me happy, it's just frustrating when I can't get a few moments to myself to just clear my mind. When I hit my wall, I become a raging bitch for a few days until I've relieved enough pressure to act "normal" again. I will generally hide in the computer room as much as I possible so I can try to avoid unnecessarily yelling at the kids for just being kids.
So, I hit "the wall" again yesterday. I was so mean my husband brought me a bottle of wine last night. He said he had to bring home some sort of a peace offering. Now I feel like a total ass.
My problem this time is that I'm struggling with insecurities of not being able to find a job, when it's always been easy for me. I'm struggling with being the fattest I've ever been in my life, even though I've never truly been happy with my body - even when I was a size 3. I miss my husband. He lost his job 3 weeks before the baby was born and has had to take a (much) lower paying job that keeps him away from home until late at night. The kids miss him and I miss him and he misses us. I want time alone with my husband - we haven't been off together in over four YEARS. I'm worried about our finances. I'm sick of being stuck at home because we're back down to one vehicle. I'm trying to finish school and am having a hard time concentrating. I feel guilty because we can't afford preschool for Caleb anymore and he's stuck at home with a mom who doesn't have a clue about how to teach him. It just goes on and on and on.
It's times like this when I secretly wish I was more social and broad network of friends to distract me. But isn't that a selfish reason to make "friends"? I think I just need a break. That's all, just a break. Then I'll get back to doing what everyone else does on a daily basis and quit trying to be such a martyr.
Ah well, it's only three hours til bedtime, then I can crack open the bottle of wine (making sure I mangle the cork as I always do) and watch trash tv. In the meantime, maybe a brownie will help lighten my mood. It sure won't help lighten the scales, but it might help my mood a little ;)
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Caleb-isms
"Mom, what's your favorite color?"
"Hmmmmm, I think I like green the best. What's your favorite color?"
"Orange. And I like Blue too!"
"Those are some pretty cool colors."
5 minutes later.....
"Mom, what's your favorite color?"
"I think I still like green. What's your favorite color?"
"hmmmmmm. My favorite color is BACON!"
"Your father would be so proud."
"Hmmmmm, I think I like green the best. What's your favorite color?"
"Orange. And I like Blue too!"
"Those are some pretty cool colors."
5 minutes later.....
"Mom, what's your favorite color?"
"I think I still like green. What's your favorite color?"
"hmmmmmm. My favorite color is BACON!"
"Your father would be so proud."
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Too Bad We're Too Far Out for Merry Maids....
Ok, I was kidding about the crack pipe.
I realize I've been a slacker lately, with both posting and commenting. I think I may be on my way out of the "newborn fog" that I've been in for the past four months. As I'm becoming more aware of my surroundings, I'm noticing that a clutter monster took a giant dump all over my house.
My goal is to clean and reorganize one room a day.
stop laughing!
So far, I've done our bedroom and the dining room. I'm currently working on the computer room (aka - the dumping ground). I've even rearranged all the photos on our hard drive and put them in neat little folders. Then I went nuts and uploaded more pictures to flickr, because I can't ever stay focused on the task at hand.
While reorganizing our closets, it occurred to me that if I'm going to be successful at this whole "three kid thing" I'm going to need to be more organized. I have plans for chore charts and reward charts and schedules and I'm even breaking out the label maker!!!! Of course if I know my kids, in only one week the labels will be peeled off and stuck on the walls and the charts will be colored with pretty little scribbles.
Too bad my mother-in-law can't plan one of her visits for the one week out of the year when everything is neat and tidy.....maybe I should call her ;)
I realize I've been a slacker lately, with both posting and commenting. I think I may be on my way out of the "newborn fog" that I've been in for the past four months. As I'm becoming more aware of my surroundings, I'm noticing that a clutter monster took a giant dump all over my house.
My goal is to clean and reorganize one room a day.
stop laughing!
So far, I've done our bedroom and the dining room. I'm currently working on the computer room (aka - the dumping ground). I've even rearranged all the photos on our hard drive and put them in neat little folders. Then I went nuts and uploaded more pictures to flickr, because I can't ever stay focused on the task at hand.
While reorganizing our closets, it occurred to me that if I'm going to be successful at this whole "three kid thing" I'm going to need to be more organized. I have plans for chore charts and reward charts and schedules and I'm even breaking out the label maker!!!! Of course if I know my kids, in only one week the labels will be peeled off and stuck on the walls and the charts will be colored with pretty little scribbles.
Too bad my mother-in-law can't plan one of her visits for the one week out of the year when everything is neat and tidy.....maybe I should call her ;)
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Cuz I'm sucha gangsta
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Friday, January 26, 2007
Time to get busy
My husband must have been hitting the crack pipe on his way home from work last night.
Why?
He agreed that if I lose 50 pounds that I can buy myself a pair of Jimmy Choo Shoes.
I know, I know, they're disgustingly expensive and that's why I don't own a pair of any designer shoes now, even though I love shoes. I have hideous feet and I'm secretly hoping that a pair of expensive shoes will somehow help me hide the fact I have man feet and stubby toes. (It's my lie, let me live it how I want to.)
I also love designer handbags and I have one Coach purse. I saved up and rewarded myself when I completed my first 5k race. (I walked the whole thing, but I finished it dammit and that's what counts!) Don't be fooled though, we have a Coach outlet only a few miles from our house and I got the purse on sale for $60. (Not too shabby eh? I love a good bargain!) The purse was excellent motivation for me and once I completed that "race" I felt a huge since of accomplishment and even signed up for, and completed, a few more races - without buying anymore expensive handbags. Luckily, my materialism only goes so far.
Back to the issue: losing 50 pounds will be a HUGE deal for me as I am struggling with being the fattest I've ever been in my life. (I've lost 25 pounds since the baby was born in September and I am proud of that small accomplishment.) Fifty pounds is not an unreasonable goal, as it will put me back at a healthy weight for my height and small bone structure.
I have a problem with food. I can eat healthy for days and then one night when I'm stressed out I will run to the store and will come back with enough candy to put a horse into a sugar coma. And I eat every last bit of it. I eat when I'm stressed, when I'm bored, when I'm upset and when I'm happy. So now the trick will be to replace the recreational eating with healthier habits that will keep my hands busy - like crocheting. It's also time for me to register for another 5k and get my butt moving again.
Oh yeah, during our "negotiations" last night, I also threw in a trip to New York to buy the shoes. Just don't tell the husband I could save money by staying in the state and getting them in the ATL. (That's Atlanta for all you foreigners)
Now, I've got to go find that crack pipe of the husband's - it's gonna take something strong to help me win this battle ;)
Why?
He agreed that if I lose 50 pounds that I can buy myself a pair of Jimmy Choo Shoes.
I know, I know, they're disgustingly expensive and that's why I don't own a pair of any designer shoes now, even though I love shoes. I have hideous feet and I'm secretly hoping that a pair of expensive shoes will somehow help me hide the fact I have man feet and stubby toes. (It's my lie, let me live it how I want to.)
I also love designer handbags and I have one Coach purse. I saved up and rewarded myself when I completed my first 5k race. (I walked the whole thing, but I finished it dammit and that's what counts!) Don't be fooled though, we have a Coach outlet only a few miles from our house and I got the purse on sale for $60. (Not too shabby eh? I love a good bargain!) The purse was excellent motivation for me and once I completed that "race" I felt a huge since of accomplishment and even signed up for, and completed, a few more races - without buying anymore expensive handbags. Luckily, my materialism only goes so far.
Back to the issue: losing 50 pounds will be a HUGE deal for me as I am struggling with being the fattest I've ever been in my life. (I've lost 25 pounds since the baby was born in September and I am proud of that small accomplishment.) Fifty pounds is not an unreasonable goal, as it will put me back at a healthy weight for my height and small bone structure.
I have a problem with food. I can eat healthy for days and then one night when I'm stressed out I will run to the store and will come back with enough candy to put a horse into a sugar coma. And I eat every last bit of it. I eat when I'm stressed, when I'm bored, when I'm upset and when I'm happy. So now the trick will be to replace the recreational eating with healthier habits that will keep my hands busy - like crocheting. It's also time for me to register for another 5k and get my butt moving again.
Oh yeah, during our "negotiations" last night, I also threw in a trip to New York to buy the shoes. Just don't tell the husband I could save money by staying in the state and getting them in the ATL. (That's Atlanta for all you foreigners)
Now, I've got to go find that crack pipe of the husband's - it's gonna take something strong to help me win this battle ;)
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Those were the days.....
Now that I am faced with the reality that my daughter will soon be a teenager (god. help. us. all.), I often find myself reflecting on my past behavior when I was a teenager. I've come to the conclusion that I owe my grandmother a thousand apologies - and then some.
In my own defense, I was not a complete heathen. True, I lied, drank, had sex, smoked and skipped school. I, however, did NOT talk back. Why? Because I was afraid, very afraid. I gave dirty looks and rolled my eyes as I walked out of the room, but I didn't dare disrespect the old people raising me. In addition to the brand new tatas, the hormones raging through my body also gave me the superpower of being a know-it-all. You the know the kind, the one who interrupts conversations and corrects people while they're talking. Add in a southern twang and green eyes and you've got a pretty good picture of who I was as a teenager.
Fast forward to my early 20's.
We're all sitting around one evening, drinking our "toddies" that my grandfather fixed for us. I'm feeling all grown up because I'm finally drinking alcohol with the adults and being allowed to join in the conversation. Somehow the topic of sororities comes up. Except my grandmother keeps calling them fraternities. She corrects herself at first, that is, until I decide to jump in every.single.time. to correct her. Instead of telling me to shut the fuck up and let her talk, she just corrects herself and keeps talking.
For the fortieth time, my grandmother says fraternity - and as she pauses to correct herself, I jump in yet again to show off my superior know-it-all knowledge. "It's FRARORITY, not fraternity!"
Everyone stops to laugh hysterically at the know-it-all buttinsky. Many years later, my family still reminds me of this incident.
Serves me right.
P.S.
Yes, I learned my lesson that day. Now I just shut the fuck up let the old people talk without any help from me - they've done it this long, my help is not required unless it's requested. So there.
Fast forward to my early 20's.
We're all sitting around one evening, drinking our "toddies" that my grandfather fixed for us. I'm feeling all grown up because I'm finally drinking alcohol with the adults and being allowed to join in the conversation. Somehow the topic of sororities comes up. Except my grandmother keeps calling them fraternities. She corrects herself at first, that is, until I decide to jump in every.single.time. to correct her. Instead of telling me to shut the fuck up and let her talk, she just corrects herself and keeps talking.
For the fortieth time, my grandmother says fraternity - and as she pauses to correct herself, I jump in yet again to show off my superior know-it-all knowledge. "It's FRARORITY, not fraternity!"
Everyone stops to laugh hysterically at the know-it-all buttinsky. Many years later, my family still reminds me of this incident.
Serves me right.
P.S.
Yes, I learned my lesson that day. Now I just shut the fuck up let the old people talk without any help from me - they've done it this long, my help is not required unless it's requested. So there.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
I get no respect
We are trying to teach Caleb (number one son) basic manners and, for the most part, he remembers his manners. However, this morning while I was lounging on the sofa bed with the number two son I was suddenly hit in the face with a freezing cold Caprisun pouch. I held it up and looked at Caleb, "What do you want me to do with this?".
"You HAVE to help me. I need juice."
"OK, but what's the magic word?"
Confused look from #1 son - then, "HOCUS POCUS POCUS!"
Good enough.
"You HAVE to help me. I need juice."
"OK, but what's the magic word?"
Confused look from #1 son - then, "HOCUS POCUS POCUS!"
Good enough.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
You took a picture of that?!
Sorry for being such a slacker lately. I've been stuck in Science Fair Project hell. I hated doing those projects as a kid and now the schools are assigning these stupid projects earlier and forcing complete parental participation. My poor daughter, she got the short end of the stick when it comes to creative mothers. Her project actually looks like a ten year old did it, not like a ten year old did it with some help from a parent. She actually did the majority of the work, I just helped with the aesthetics - and it was still pitiful. Ahh well, the point is that she loved how it looked when we were done - all the rest is unimportant.
Since I'm feeling lazy, I thought I'd share some of my artsy fartsy pictures with you. I LOVE photography and my family always makes fun of me when they're looking at new pictures and come across pictures like this:
Yes, I realize it's a stick. But it's a stick on the beach and I made it into a black and white picture, which automatically classifies it as art, which they would know if they had taken Art Appreciation in college.*
I also love taking candid pictures of my kids. In fact, I detest staged studio pictures. Try explaining that to old people who actually want to see the kids' faces.
I have no idea why I took this picture, I just liked the broken fence and lonely palm tree.
This is my husband and his brothers this past summer at his older brother's wedding. The picture was the husband's idea, I was the photographer. Somehow we didn't communicate enough, as it didn't come out quite how the husband had planned. (I still don't know what he wanted, he's not mean enough to act anything but grateful.) And, yes, they actually wore those outfits - hats and all. They looked like Pentecostal gangsters, but it's what the groom wanted and it made the atmosphere really playful.
And to prove that I actually do take color pictures, here is a picture of the shrimp boats. How lucky am I that I get to see this kind of view on a daily basis?
Since I'm feeling lazy, I thought I'd share some of my artsy fartsy pictures with you. I LOVE photography and my family always makes fun of me when they're looking at new pictures and come across pictures like this:
Yes, I realize it's a stick. But it's a stick on the beach and I made it into a black and white picture, which automatically classifies it as art, which they would know if they had taken Art Appreciation in college.*I also love taking candid pictures of my kids. In fact, I detest staged studio pictures. Try explaining that to old people who actually want to see the kids' faces.
I have no idea why I took this picture, I just liked the broken fence and lonely palm tree.
This is my husband and his brothers this past summer at his older brother's wedding. The picture was the husband's idea, I was the photographer. Somehow we didn't communicate enough, as it didn't come out quite how the husband had planned. (I still don't know what he wanted, he's not mean enough to act anything but grateful.) And, yes, they actually wore those outfits - hats and all. They looked like Pentecostal gangsters, but it's what the groom wanted and it made the atmosphere really playful.
And to prove that I actually do take color pictures, here is a picture of the shrimp boats. How lucky am I that I get to see this kind of view on a daily basis?
Alright, I'm done holding you hostage with my pictures - for now ;)
*Before you think I'm THAT snobbish (and ignorant), I'm only joking. I'd never say anything like that out loud to my family.
*Before you think I'm THAT snobbish (and ignorant), I'm only joking. I'd never say anything like that out loud to my family.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Shhhh, listen
Hear that? No? Guess what? Me neither. That means it's quiet and quiet means all THREE kids, the dog and the cat are all asleep and in their respective beds. (Cue the hallelujah choir, but do it quietly). I have about 20 more minutes until the husband gets home and I am reveling in the peace while I can. It wasn't a bad day, just the usual chaos, but it is nice to sit and just be me for a minute with nothing being expected of me.
Apparently this is "DeLurking Week" so make sure you come out of the closet on your favorite boards and let yourself be seen. I'm a chronic lurker, so it's been hard for me. but I've managed to leave comments on at least half the pages I read. My goal for tomorrow is to leave comments for everyone. I'll have to start early, but I should be able to get it done by the time I go to bed tomorrow. :)
Apparently this is "DeLurking Week" so make sure you come out of the closet on your favorite boards and let yourself be seen. I'm a chronic lurker, so it's been hard for me. but I've managed to leave comments on at least half the pages I read. My goal for tomorrow is to leave comments for everyone. I'll have to start early, but I should be able to get it done by the time I go to bed tomorrow. :)
Sunday, January 7, 2007
Time to start a therapy fund....
My kids are going to be so screwed up when they're older.
The other day Caleb, who's 3, came to me and said, "Mama, I fur stink."
Me: "Your fur stinks?"
Caleb: "Yes, I want some juice please."
Me: "My fur stinks too, but I need a bath, not something to drink."
Caleb: "Please can I have some juice? I'm really, really fur stink."
Me: Unable to speak, snorting and laughing
Husband: (listening in the next room and laughing) "You're so awful - get the poor kid something to drink."
Me: "Come on Caleb, let's get you something to drink."
Caleb: "Fank you! Fank you! Fank you!"
Hopefully he's too young to remember that conversation....
The other day Caleb, who's 3, came to me and said, "Mama, I fur stink."
Me: "Your fur stinks?"
Caleb: "Yes, I want some juice please."
Me: "My fur stinks too, but I need a bath, not something to drink."
Caleb: "Please can I have some juice? I'm really, really fur stink."
Me: Unable to speak, snorting and laughing
Husband: (listening in the next room and laughing) "You're so awful - get the poor kid something to drink."
Me: "Come on Caleb, let's get you something to drink."
Caleb: "Fank you! Fank you! Fank you!"
Hopefully he's too young to remember that conversation....
Saturday, January 6, 2007
I'm changing my name to Grace.
First, a little background info: I'm such a clutz. I can trip over nothing and I can trip over something while trying to avoid tripping (that's what I call talent). We only have four steps in our house (leading down into the playroom) and I have managed to fall down those stupid stairs several times. I've even managed to slip down the three steps that lead off the front porch into the yard. Most of the time I just laugh because I know I look silly and, let's face it, it's always funny to see someone trip (except for old, fragile people).
Now on to the real story: Last night I was walking through the den with my open laptop and the dog and cat came charging through. Somehow, not only did I trip, but my big toe got caught in my pants leg. As I was on my way down I realized I was about to fall on the baby who was enjoying some late-night tummy time. Soooooo, I sacrificed the laptop for the baby. (As my husband later said, it's much easier to fix a broken laptop than it is to fix a broken baby.) I ended up cracking the screen and it won't light at all. Thank goodness for accidental damage insurance and thank goodness I had just backed up all my info.
Too bad no one was around to see it though. The "good stuff" always happens when no one's looking.
Now on to the real story: Last night I was walking through the den with my open laptop and the dog and cat came charging through. Somehow, not only did I trip, but my big toe got caught in my pants leg. As I was on my way down I realized I was about to fall on the baby who was enjoying some late-night tummy time. Soooooo, I sacrificed the laptop for the baby. (As my husband later said, it's much easier to fix a broken laptop than it is to fix a broken baby.) I ended up cracking the screen and it won't light at all. Thank goodness for accidental damage insurance and thank goodness I had just backed up all my info.
Too bad no one was around to see it though. The "good stuff" always happens when no one's looking.
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Pity party for one.....
Dear God, if you're out there, pleeeeeeeaaaaasssseeeee let this year not suck quite as much as last year.
Thanks - Me
So is this what having a blog is all about? Living your daily life, thinking the entire day "This is SO going on my blog," and then not being able to think of anything of substance to write about that anyone will care about. (Not that anyone reads this thing anyways, but you know what I mean.)
Sorry, today's just been one of those days that throwing myself off one of the many bridges on the way home didn't seem like such a bad idea. The baby screamed all frickin day and his 3 yr old brother whined the entire time too. For the sake of my sanity, we watched way too much tv today, but I don't care because we all made it through the day.
OK, enough whining. My super duper smarty pants daughter came home with her report card today. STRAIGHT A's and sky high test scores!!!! I am proud of her and I think it's absolutely amazing that my little 5th grader scored high school level and BEYOND in the language sections and on average between 7th and 9th grade for all other subjects. Holy moly what a smart cookie.
Thanks - Me
So is this what having a blog is all about? Living your daily life, thinking the entire day "This is SO going on my blog," and then not being able to think of anything of substance to write about that anyone will care about. (Not that anyone reads this thing anyways, but you know what I mean.)
Sorry, today's just been one of those days that throwing myself off one of the many bridges on the way home didn't seem like such a bad idea. The baby screamed all frickin day and his 3 yr old brother whined the entire time too. For the sake of my sanity, we watched way too much tv today, but I don't care because we all made it through the day.
OK, enough whining. My super duper smarty pants daughter came home with her report card today. STRAIGHT A's and sky high test scores!!!! I am proud of her and I think it's absolutely amazing that my little 5th grader scored high school level and BEYOND in the language sections and on average between 7th and 9th grade for all other subjects. Holy moly what a smart cookie.
Even the "screamin' demon" can have a cute moment.
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