tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11072723292638991262024-02-21T07:21:51.050-05:00Cat@HomeAn irreverent look at parenting and life in rural Virginia. I may include SOME language that people may object to, but I am being honest about who I am and who my family is.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-45138763968002086602013-01-19T10:19:00.000-05:002013-01-19T10:19:57.508-05:00Not Holier Than Thou - Not Less Holy Than ThouI felt a need to sit down and write today. I don't know why - maybe it's because I keep seeing a bunch of stuff in my FaceBook newsfeed from people that is quite religious in nature and seems to imply that if you're not Christian then you're not a moral, good person. Maybe it's because an internet friend's child has had experiences in school that I am afraid my child will eventually have.<br />
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I am NOT Christian. But I am a moral person. I have a good sense of right and wrong. I am teaching my child to be a moral person. I feel that spirituality is a PRIVATE matter and should not be trumpeted to the Heavens every single day - or that you don't HAVE to trumpet it to the Heavens in an effort to<b><i> "</i><u>prove</u><i>"</i></b> that you are a good person. I feel so strongly about this that I have to admit that I question the convictions and mental stability of people who have a need to pepper their statuses and FaceBook walls with religious-related photos or references. Every day. Multiple times a day. I find this OVERLY overt religiosity offensive. Now, the fact that these types of activities makes me question the morals and convictions of those people is something that I'm not proud of. I'm human, which means I am a seriously flawed individual - as is every other single person on the planet.<br />
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I fear the religious bigot; those people who feel it is ok to tell someone else that they are "wrong" for their beliefs, that it is perfectly fine to make those people feel smaller or insignificant. Those are also the same people who scream "repression" whenever someone else either wants to be left alone for what they believe or wants the freedom without judgement to practice their own spirituality or religion without encumbrance or even wants to make sure that the laws in our country are free from ANY religious influence. I respect people who have a different belief than I do and will fight for them to be able to believe and worship as they choose or not worship if they are atheist. I don't want your religion shoved into my face all the damned time, though. I fear that my son will be bullied because his Mommy isn't a Christian, or Jewish, or Muslim, or Buddhist ... This is already happening to the parents of a little boy who is just a few days younger than my son. And it's happening in an area of the country that is honestly known for being MORE tolerant than Virginia is. I also am afraid of my own extended family judging me because I don't fit into the "majority" religion in this country. Our society in the US has a really bad history of being tolerant of those people who do not fit into the majority in this country. People have been beaten, hanged/lynched, pressed to death, shot, stabbed etc. just for being different, and this history goes back to before the American Revolution.<br />
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NOBODY is "holier" than anybody else. Your god is probably the exact same god as my duo, just seen through a different lens. That doesn't make you "wrong" or me "wrong" ... it just makes us different. We come to an understanding of the universe from different backgrounds and different life experiences. To a degree it's selective perception that comes out of different cultures, different knowledge bases, different families, different norms. Nobody has the<b> exact same </b>family dynamic as anybody else - not even siblings. My experience of my parents and siblings is different from my sister's and from my brother's. It is colored by my <b>particular</b> life experiences, which include experiences that are external to my "family of origin". It doesn't make me right and my siblings wrong or vica-versa, it just makes us different.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-47782104340278763902013-01-02T20:45:00.001-05:002013-01-02T20:45:40.227-05:00A New Year - Some Thoughts.I have been absent from my blog for a while. A lot has gone on in that time, but the most harrowing was the shooting in CT on Dec 14. We live nowhere near CT, we are in fact several states away. But those children were the same age as RP. The exact same age as my son. I can not fathom the pain their families are still in. I can not fathom the fear in the hearts of families who, like me, are sending their children back to school tomorrow after Winter Break in that small town. I know that when I think about what those children went through I feel like screaming and crying. I feel like holding onto my little guy and NEVER letting him out of my sight. Still. Yes, we had a full week of school after Sandy Hook where nothing happened ... but the fear still lives in my heart and soul. Sandy Hook Elementary School had a better security program than RP's school. If some insane person wanted to go into RP's school and start shooting, there is nothing that would stop them. There are too many entrances into the school. The doors are unlocked. And I live in the country - unfortunately in Eric Cantor's Congressional District so you know that there are people who are heavily armed living here.<br />
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Now, don't get me wrong. We own guns. My husband hunts and we currently have 3 deer worth of meat in our freezer from his hunting this season. I am not anti-gun. But I AM anti-people killing guns. I do not believe that the Founding Fathers intended people to own guns that are capable of shooting 30 + rounds before needing to be re-loaded or have another extended magazine shoved in. The guns that we had in the country when the Second Amendment was crafted were all MUZZLE-LOADERS. They didn't even have rifled barrels. They could not BEGIN to conceive of the firepower that is available for purchase by citizens.<br />
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Also, I grew up with a military father. I have a healthy respect for the men and women who put their lives on the line for our country. I also have a healthy respect and love for the spouses and children of those men and women who live with the knowledge that Mommy or Daddy may get called up to go fight overseas and may never come home. I did not grow up in a household that hated guns. I did not grow up in a family who refused to own guns - on either side. Both sides of my family hunted while I was growing up.<br />
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I just don't see a point in allowing private citizens to own weapons of mass destruction. I don't see the wisdom in putting armed guards in every single school nationwide the way the head of the NRA is advocating. More guns is NOT THE ANSWER. I don't know the exact answer, but it has to include destigmatizing mental health issues and fully covering ALL treatments for however long they are needed in order to take care of this very important facet of health. As someone who <u><b>HAS</b></u> mental health issues (depression, anxiety, problems with crowds and public spaces) I know firsthand that the treatment and care that we provide as a nation for those people who are in need of help falls woefully short. Mental health issues are still viewed as a shameful topic. If you have a chemical imbalance that causes diabetes, that's ok. You can hold your head up high knowing that it's not your fault. But if you have a chemical imbalance that causes anxiety and depression then you should be hidden away and feel ashamed and you should NOT be allowed treatment for your chemical imbalance. You obviously have done something WRONG and are to blame for the chemical imbalance - even if it is something that you have had all of your life.<br />
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I would love to be able to lighten this blog post. But my mind just isn't there right now. I have put my child to bed and will be getting up in the morning to put him on the bus to go out of my hands and out of my control. He may have inherited the chemical imbalance that has plagued me all of my life and that plagued my mother all of her life. He may have inherited other medical conditions that are genetic as well. I have no control over those, either.<br />
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Ok, I COULD have refused to reproduce so as to spare any child my particular DNA. But he is such a gift from the gods, he is so smart and loving and tender-hearted and giving and sweet ... looking back I can honestly say that he is the very best thing I have ever done - contributing my DNA and my womb and my arms to bring him into the world. He is not "the gods' gift to the Earth" - he is certainly human and flawed as are the rest of us. But I can not imagine a world without him in it. My world would not be the same if he had never existed and my world would end if he suddenly left it. I could not bear going through what my parents went through in helping to plan the memorial service for their child. He is my one and only. He is my heart. He is my joy (even when he is being a typical boy and not listening to me and continues to play in his bed after I've told him to go to sleep because it's a school night). He is the little man that I always knew was waiting for me, the one I am supposed to guide and teach on his way to adulthood. He is my true love (well, one of them and currently the most important). He is my child - a completely whole, perfect being who was created out of the raw materials that Patrick and I contributed. He is perfect because of his flaws and rough patches, not in spite of them. He is perfect because of who he IS inside. He will never have to "be perfect at" anything other than being Robert Parker; and he's already accomplished that. I thank the fates, the Heavens and the gods every day for allowing me to be his parent. I hope and pray that I will be allowed to continue to be his parent until I depart this shell I inhabit. I hope and pray that I never have to bury him the way my parents did and the way those parents in Newtown, CT had to.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-2463383633147216182012-09-14T09:12:00.002-04:002012-09-14T09:12:34.838-04:00Half a Week of Kindergarten DownWritten 8/24/2012<br />
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Well, we have our first half a week of Kindergarten done. Ok, he attended school for 2 days since he started vomiting early this morning ... but he WANTED to go to school today despite feeling sick.<br />
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First, let me share some pictures ...<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-27097699590261303922012-09-14T08:48:00.001-04:002012-09-14T08:48:44.102-04:00"I Hope You Have Children Just Like You!"The Mother's Curse is alive and well. I have had small glimpses of it already in the almost 6 years that RP has been outside of my belly, but this morning it really hit full force. I have to laugh and shake my head since I know that I will lay the Mother's Curse on him as he gets older and wait gleefully for when it takes effect and he has the realization that it has come to fruition.<br />
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RP woke up whiny this morning (a sure sign he's not feeling well) and as he sat down at the table to eat his Fruit Loops he promptly threw up all over himself and the floor). I sighed, cleaned up the mess and asked him to try to eat a little bit. He ate a couple of spoonfulls and declared he was done. So ... I sent him to my room to rest since I suspected a second vomiting episode was coming. Sure enough, he called me into my room to let me know it had happened again (in a trash can, thankfully) and I mentally prepared to have him home and watching TV all day - as well as calling the school to let them know he was sick.<br />
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After about an hour he came into the Living Room and told me since he missed the bus ... I interrupted him and told him "If you're too sick to go to school then you're too sick to go outside and play. If you're well enough to go outside and play, get dressed and I'll drive you to school, you still have time to make it on time." For some odd reason, this suggestion didn't sit too well with him. He started complaining but I just kept repeating myself. Eventually he started crying but I held firm. If he's too sick to go to school then he's too sick to go outside and play. After a few back and forths, he meekly went back to my room to watch Netflix streaming stuff on Roku (a box that allows you to run streaming video from a number of different sources like Netflix, Amazon Instant Videos, Hulu etc).<br />
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But I really have to marvel at how well the Mother's Curse is working. I distinctly remember having the same type of conversation with my mom when I was a lot younger. I also distinctly remember being just as indignant that she couldn't understand that yes, I had thrown up - but now I felt ever so much better and should be allowed to go out and play ... The back and forth with me just repeating that if he was too sick to go to school he was too sick to go outside and play, that if he was well enough to go outside and play then I would drive him to school is <b><u>exactly</u></b> the same kind of thing my mother did with me. Probably word for word, too.<br />
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Mom, wherever you are right now, I love you and thank you for not only gifting me with this dubious curse, but also for gifting me with the means with which to deal with it. Your example of patience and not arguing but simply repeating the words is probably the best way to deal with a child who was sick but now feels better - whether that feeling better happens in the morning or in the afternoon (after school lets out, which I know is on the horizon as he realizes what time school lets out and figures out that I can't drive him to school if it's not in session).Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-69058061841461018882012-08-21T17:31:00.000-04:002012-08-21T22:08:01.227-04:00Yes, I Suck at BloggingIt is official. I suck at Blogging. I have sat down and tried to write a few times but have not have the ability to "stick to it" and finish each post. I did save them so maybe someday I can revisit them and polish them for "print". But considering that my last post was BEFORE we hit the beach, and that was at the end of JUNE ... Well, I just SUCK.<br />
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The beach trip went fine. Well, except for the gods sending us a curve ball the night before we left as well as while we were on the road. We had a derecho that included 80 mph winds that took some limbs off one of the two walnut trees we have behind and to the side of the carport. The limb wound up BEHIND the Highlander on teh driver's side. Needless to say, the Highlander got some scratches from that as well as sap on the hood that we didn't notice right away. Did you know walnut sap EATS PAINT? I didn't until after we got home from the beach and washed the salt off the poor vehicle. Luckily, I called in the damage the morning we left for the beach and the driver's side is now all nice and purty again. As if the walnut branch was not enough, as we were on the road to OBX, a car in front of us on I-95 kicked up a rock and hit the edge of the windshield. This produced a small chip ... and a crack that extended over a foot and a half as soon as the rock hit us. *sigh* So in addition to having the Highlander repainted we had to get the entire windshield replaced. What a way to start off a family vacation.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a crack!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walnut tree sap</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scratches</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More scratches</td></tr>
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Once we got to the beach, determined not to let the damage to the Highlander be an omen, things were mostly ok. Of course, I came down with BRONCHITIS on the first full day, but I was able to go out and enjoy the waves a couple of days thanks to massive applications of guiafenisen cough medication. We also were able to enjoy watching fireworks while sitting on the beach since our week happened to coincide with the Fourth of July. My dad and step-mom came out to spend some time with us, but they were so worn out from travelling that they didn't make it to meet up with us on the Fourth when they were supposed to. In fact, I stayed away from the beach all day on the Fourth waiting for them to show up - only to be told repeatedly that they were coming and then later that they fall asleep again. *sigh* We did travel up to their hotel room on the 5th to eat dinner with them.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">The wee man put his own clothes away</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">I can see shades of his teenaged face in this photo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">My little man busts a move on the beach</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhVP6gu6roOOgbaLkkj30OKcEpuRSOvKzAsjo-op4rjEzhuSAUPkyiZAFTGOpB7hLCfrNNjjlhC5Uj_AAbauVHCCt_726tR9NPxEVn824sZc5ALIGyi71OHM_ma_3e1prw-VNeHllZJDPF/s1600/DSCF1718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhVP6gu6roOOgbaLkkj30OKcEpuRSOvKzAsjo-op4rjEzhuSAUPkyiZAFTGOpB7hLCfrNNjjlhC5Uj_AAbauVHCCt_726tR9NPxEVn824sZc5ALIGyi71OHM_ma_3e1prw-VNeHllZJDPF/s640/DSCF1718.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Fierce five year old is FIERCE!</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rlLrYkGVl0keNv8-c5IWPkIrHr-YprDieB_MQuKod2uOOyCERhbr8jMecWMHtVKWY9rsIrkUavgXMrzexb56w959VG3D8wJIW7Fno8j8vBl7flu8zU-_uC9AEkhCDjRzC-IcCN9Wsrln/s1600/DSCF1832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5rlLrYkGVl0keNv8-c5IWPkIrHr-YprDieB_MQuKod2uOOyCERhbr8jMecWMHtVKWY9rsIrkUavgXMrzexb56w959VG3D8wJIW7Fno8j8vBl7flu8zU-_uC9AEkhCDjRzC-IcCN9Wsrln/s640/DSCF1832.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Sunset over the dunes and houses</td></tr>
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Since we got back (and got the windshield replaced - which fell under our deductible, AND had half the Highlander repainted) I've been in a flare. Yes, for almost two MONTHS I've been unable to concentrate, unable to get adequate quality sleep and been unable to make it through the day (without being hella-cranky) without a nap.<br />
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And now we face the night before Kindergarten (cue dramatic music)!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09ArFXzt2dYhPNziFQdlfD0LIIqcqQ1sQmPzyEtudSe8wdhKJ-yjfFIcUygT7X8KiLiIt-ZiJBBmQos9VrMLPCRCXQ-3_nsDIq924_TxM9B1GPQXOsO3DZNmt6vAJ4VupI6bbgxg9wJWr/s1600/2012-08-20_17-28-31_487.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09ArFXzt2dYhPNziFQdlfD0LIIqcqQ1sQmPzyEtudSe8wdhKJ-yjfFIcUygT7X8KiLiIt-ZiJBBmQos9VrMLPCRCXQ-3_nsDIq924_TxM9B1GPQXOsO3DZNmt6vAJ4VupI6bbgxg9wJWr/s640/2012-08-20_17-28-31_487.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RP at his table</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmFsH_Xqmuj5dZ4bocq29gW2ePPvD584IUaxUh67yfexqiVig-2NgsJNOZ1rPc7Q9K1tPK8wk_LR5uzAcH5q-pQ-zKKFOpcaMdt3tjEovugfOuPwUsFbGyDKY0Rxbbu4BECVOBeOUkb94/s1600/2012-08-20_17-28-52_430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmFsH_Xqmuj5dZ4bocq29gW2ePPvD584IUaxUh67yfexqiVig-2NgsJNOZ1rPc7Q9K1tPK8wk_LR5uzAcH5q-pQ-zKKFOpcaMdt3tjEovugfOuPwUsFbGyDKY0Rxbbu4BECVOBeOUkb94/s640/2012-08-20_17-28-52_430.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obvious name tag is obvious</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm8kr8B25PFVJCkgPFP4E3AanWDjI8VBzFargvVtk5_Fnfz9KkTMf8mXjxrXALvcrW3l2ud4D1wMG3a2_3a_4TJukpLfnBMTR35nNx6fDFqug4KDCZHLppDCI7Ew387mc7WiqYvae4m-lu/s1600/2012-08-20_17-29-05_361.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm8kr8B25PFVJCkgPFP4E3AanWDjI8VBzFargvVtk5_Fnfz9KkTMf8mXjxrXALvcrW3l2ud4D1wMG3a2_3a_4TJukpLfnBMTR35nNx6fDFqug4KDCZHLppDCI7Ew387mc7WiqYvae4m-lu/s640/2012-08-20_17-29-05_361.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The CUBBIES</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiyjUoKJCuUTjGO5TAAK0Viuj44JC69ZgXoqUSElwsFnRZG0alIhrSEiccHZNYaFX-v3fwdD-Gm0tH9cPNuTsTQBML7dc8cLRGsBu5SvTOVcTLhOPKSaMIHqSRyWMI4YGXXpiIi0xbxppy/s1600/2012-08-20_17-34-23_289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiyjUoKJCuUTjGO5TAAK0Viuj44JC69ZgXoqUSElwsFnRZG0alIhrSEiccHZNYaFX-v3fwdD-Gm0tH9cPNuTsTQBML7dc8cLRGsBu5SvTOVcTLhOPKSaMIHqSRyWMI4YGXXpiIi0xbxppy/s640/2012-08-20_17-34-23_289.jpg" width="364" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RP's cubby</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_g576XG5ghiNUtc6FLAC5vCcVdtYdeevK803IvtK14wVSbdPOPGYdWbJGR2NAeMXFi69dlD4LkhJvwWKwCz5HtJ8gGW_nv4phGE6Ywomm3OpJWqcov2top0E81_faPg4lIABHSVrqDEmb/s1600/2012-08-20_17-40-54_893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_g576XG5ghiNUtc6FLAC5vCcVdtYdeevK803IvtK14wVSbdPOPGYdWbJGR2NAeMXFi69dlD4LkhJvwWKwCz5HtJ8gGW_nv4phGE6Ywomm3OpJWqcov2top0E81_faPg4lIABHSVrqDEmb/s640/2012-08-20_17-40-54_893.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice, smile, son!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxvjDWdegGhKwHgfXKsfbf-XDTk90g2MOKL-EwQKKo4vSVVOBo5dTu8hqf2rUeeMY5_j_DHpL6O3eUiqJYI-_GILARwdtkGC_XXJD-MHF6mUsIkzfmFlAV4inH8JJVmUIyUVurEdujBtc/s1600/2012-08-20_17-41-14_862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxvjDWdegGhKwHgfXKsfbf-XDTk90g2MOKL-EwQKKo4vSVVOBo5dTu8hqf2rUeeMY5_j_DHpL6O3eUiqJYI-_GILARwdtkGC_XXJD-MHF6mUsIkzfmFlAV4inH8JJVmUIyUVurEdujBtc/s640/2012-08-20_17-41-14_862.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the classrooms have ADDRESSES</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArNv-3HJLIl6A79cSFzM_oML_yIruDnaddmQ5UXWVfzjfzbmv31_V_rZ88La4A8-RQgKDYxkB3W93mh_sHFou48A9oxoTVz0TupNYQrlrsfiTEbNIC9mQn1jk48RFaiQsst9r40WIsvec/s1600/2012-08-20_17-41-02_762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArNv-3HJLIl6A79cSFzM_oML_yIruDnaddmQ5UXWVfzjfzbmv31_V_rZ88La4A8-RQgKDYxkB3W93mh_sHFou48A9oxoTVz0TupNYQrlrsfiTEbNIC9mQn1jk48RFaiQsst9r40WIsvec/s640/2012-08-20_17-41-02_762.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Under his apple in the hallway</td></tr>
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Yes, school starts tomorrow for our intrepid five (and a half! as he reminds me) year old. We have met his teacher, Mrs. Ammons. We have taken all his supplies to school. We have seen where he will be sitting. We have bought a LUNCH BOX (and it had to be "Star Wars with Light Sabres on it) plus a drink container AND a hot entree container. I have bought school clothes and new shoes for him. Grammy bought him two new shirts and a hoodie. We have an assortment of healthy snacks ready to go into a brown paper bag in the morning. We have CAPRI SUN in the house (which reminds me ... need to put some in the fridge tonight). We started going to bed at 8:30 almost two weeks ago to get ready. I have been getting up at 6:15 am for a week to get ME ready and figured out how to program the coffee maker to start making coffee at 6:05 so it will be ready BEFORE I wake up.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-15614284251573106822012-06-27T09:56:00.004-04:002012-06-27T09:59:44.586-04:00Tired and Dispirited<br />
So, in gearing up to go to the beach, I have run into a snag. See, RP has picked up some type of tummy bug and up until last night was waking up at night to throw up. It was only happening at night or first thing in the morning and was accompanied by <u><b>THE RUNS</b></u>. This has put the worry that he'll continue to be sick during the vacation into both Patrick and me. Luckily, he slept through the night last night with no vomiting and he hasn't vomited this morning - though he did have "an accident". Maybe the tummy bug is moving out finally.<br />
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But the biggest thing going on with me is the result of financial issues. My student loans started needing to be paid and rather than bother Patrick with them I was making the payments by myself - on less than $900 a month I was paying over $500. I was also asked by Patrick to help out with groceries at least once a month which usually ran to $200. Plus I was taking care of other things like trying to clothe my ever-expanding body and clothing RP. So I ran up credit card debt and then was trying to make payments on that on the little I had left. It all came to a head a few months ago and we have been in the process of liquidating all the credit card debt. I have put my loans on forbearance and will be filing an application for loan forgiveness based on disability. So hopefully they will forgive a portion of it so that my student loan payments will go down. In the meantime, I have been using my money to help take some of the pressure off Patrick for the beach trip. Oh, and buying clothing to cover my ever-expanding body since I had a total of 2 or 3 pairs of shorts I could wear out in public that somewhat fit.<br />
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Last night as we were discussing RP and his illness, all of a sudden Patrick lit into me about the fact that my checking account is below $100 and asked where my money is going. Well, let me see ... I bought medications, shorts, paid some on my Visa card and on the VS card, got a water purifying dispenser for while we're at the beach, tried to get some clothing that would make me feel pretty for a change (it's too small right now because the measurements and US relative size wasn't communicated properly), paid for the dog's vet visit for her annual checkup ... gee, honey - I guess that the 2 pairs of sunglasses I bought for me (since all the previous I've bought have scratches all over them) and the one pair I bought for RP (all total less than $50) really DID break the bank.<br />
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To make matters worse, Patrick has a really bad habit of not apologizing when he's wrong or has taken a wrong tack in dealing with things. He just sweeps it under the rug as if I am not <b>WORTHY</b> of an apology. I just feel <u>worthless</u> this morning. It's not <b>all</b> his fault - I have baggage from previous relationships that help along the feelings of worthlessness. But his attacking me last night really has hurt me and I know that he's hoping that it will all just blow over and he won't have to take responsibility for his part in it. I really don't feel like talking to him today. If I <b><u>did</u></b> communicate my feelings to him he will just get angry and frustrated both at his own role in them, but more at the fact that I am hurt. Or at least it feels that way.<br />
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I am still recovering from almost single-handedly cleaning up the house for my Dad and step-mom to come visit on Father's Day. I have<b> KEPT </b>the house clean since then, which got a <b>minor</b> comment this past weekend and that's about it. I am also reeling from nights of interrupted sleep dealing with RP's illness AND trying to keep the house clean AND get everything except Patrick's clothing packed (I still have a LOT to do there). But that doesn't matter. What I do doesn't matter. My feelings don't matter. <b><u>I</u></b> don't matter.<br />
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To say I'm depressed today would be an understatement. I want to go back to bed (Aine woke me up at 5:30 to go outside and I wasn't able to get back to sleep and it's 9:50 now) but I have things to do today like picking up Patrick's blood pressure medication and he wanted to get the Highlander washed before we go to the beach. I have laundry in the washing machine, a damp down comforter in the dryer which needs to be hung over the shower curtain rod, dishes in the dishwasher to put away, more packing to do, the interior of the Highlander to clean, a kid to keep track of and feed ... *sigh* I'm just tired and depressed and don't want to deal with Patrick today. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-60674268207870129532012-06-16T01:33:00.000-04:002012-06-16T01:33:30.859-04:00"No, Sweetie, Fish Can NOT Breathe Air OMG We Have MORE BABY FISH!"I was engaged in making a seafood pasta salad for the memorial service/BBQ tomorrow for a dear neighbor. All of a sudden, the little guy said "Look Mommy! I caught a fish!" Luckily, I looked over at him because he was standing in the middle of the floor with the fish STILL IN HIS HANDS. I yelled at him to put the fish back in the aquarium and scared him - but he complied quickly. As I raced over to see if the fish was still alive, I explained that fish can't breathe unless they're under water. I told him that fish who aren't under water will drown because they can't breathe air. He was kneeling on his shoe bench and had his face buried in the cushion. As I was looking in the aquarium to watch the fish to make sure she would survive I noticed them ...<br />
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BRAND NEW BABY FISH. SomeGuppy SPAWNED since last night. Now I'll have to dump the filter housing to check for live babies in there just to make sure we don't commit fishicide. *sigh* Luckily, not all of the fry from the last couple of spawning "made it" since they are not swimming around the tank. SomeFishie ate them ... which is what big fish do. I can't say that I'm terribly upset at the reduction in spawn swimming around our aquarium - in fact, I'm rather relieved that I don't have to make a trek out to Winchester any time soon. But all we needed was MORE fish.<br />
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Is it possible to SPAY fancy guppies?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-7297982579555549312012-06-07T10:53:00.001-04:002012-06-07T10:53:43.989-04:00I know, I know ...I really need to write another blog post. Life gets in the way sometimes and I never expected to be able to write every day. Maybe after RP is in Kindergarten I can write with a bit more regularity. But as of right now, between the kid, the dog, the husband, the cranky old man cat and the fluffy cat ... who has time to write?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-5990104700907732822012-05-23T12:43:00.001-04:002012-05-23T12:43:46.853-04:00Fish TalesWell, yesterday we did it ... we drove for over an hour to deliver baby fancy guppies to a pet store in Winchester. I bagged up over TWENTY baby guppies in various stages of growth into two gallon-sized bags and we hit the road. Unfortunately, while I was bagging the guppies we had a crisis -<br />
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"Mommy you can't give away ALL the baby fish!! You CAN'T!! You have to leave some here!!" This was said in the midst of many tears and a red face.<br />
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*sigh* I couldn't catch ALL the babies so I told him that we still had some in the aquarium but that wasn't good enough. He insisted I put some back, so I stuck my hand in among the TAME baby fish and manually scooped one out and put it back. Then he declared it wasn't enough - I had to scoop ANOTHER one out of the bags and put it back as well. So instead of only having about four baby fish left in the aquarium, we wound up with about six. That was IN THE TANK. I changed the filter this morning and checked the filter housing and found at least EIGHT newly spawned <b>LIVE</b> fry in the filter. F*ck me! I couldn't stick the net into the housing because it's too big and I didn't want to put the water from the housing back into the aquarium with all the yuck as well (and I REALLY did not want to have over a dozen babies still in the aquarium) so I just went ahead and quickly and quietly poured them down the sink with the rest of the icky water before putting in a fresh filter bag and reassembling the filter. So I am a fish murderer. Just don't tell my son, please.<br />
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Luckily (heavy sarcasm there) we have four females and two males to make MORE FRY for the little guy. I do plan on letting a batch get large enough for me to "sex" them and keeping a male from one of these spawnings of my females and males - I want a nice pretty one from the mix of colors I have in the tank. I still really want a blue male, but that's not realistic since we're already almost at capacity for fishies in our aquarium. Also, every single freaking blue fancy guppy I've bought has DIED on me so I'm feeling like maybe I'm just not meant to have blue fancy guppies - at least not at this time.<br />
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But for the time being, we have a much less crowded aquarium. I know I have MORE fry on the way ... but we have a little bit of a breather before they arrive. The yellow female just spawned so she won't spawn again for a few months and I'm not sure when the greens will spawn next. At least I don't have to head to Winchester again for a bit. I'm also trying to expand my "net" and find other pet stores who are willing to accept baby fancy guppies so that I don't "flood" one store with fish.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-89835898112372983472012-05-21T09:59:00.004-04:002012-05-21T09:59:53.740-04:00One Month and Ten DaysWe have a month and 10 days before we head off to the Outer Banks of North Carolina for our week at the beach. YAAAY! RP is getting anxious to go and Patrick and I can't wait to get there, either. We always have fun during our week on the sand, and I'm planning on getting another tattoo for my left shoulder. I just can't wait to hit the waves and just relax and have fun!<br />
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Now it's time to make sure we have clothes that fit so we can pack up before we go. I've been buying shorts for myself on eBay as well as a few dresses (one I may alter to make shorter) and last night I ordered some new shirts and pajamas for the little guy. I'm "giving in" and not worrying about my weight right now, so I need to make sure I have stuff that fits my currently larger body. RP keeps insisting on growing taller (though not much wider) so he needs new shirts that he can wear both in the water and out. I did buy him 2 rashguards for the beach and pool which will help - especially after he gets his annual sunburn.<br />
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I also have gone ahead and paid for a "Sunny Day Guide" to be sent to us. This is the little magazine that has ads and coupons in it for OBX stuff. We can use the copy we'll get in the mail to maybe plan out a special excursion while we're at the beach. We can also plan out maybe some places to go and eat a meal at a "fine dining establishment" to save me from cooking all of our meals while we're there. While we will be on a budget, we can still have a bit of fun and eat a meal or two away from the place we're renting for the week.<br />
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I am already planning what we need to pack and when I need to start packing it. I'm not sure where the pre-packing bug comes from ... whether it's a residual effect of being raised as an Air Force Brat, a residual effect of being raised a Jones, a survival thing due to the Fibro or just my own little quirk. I'm afraid that if I <i style="font-weight: bold;">don't </i>pre-pack that I'll forget something important. I can't remember very well how early we packed when I was growing up and we were heading to the Lake (Middle Cullen Lake in Minnesota - halfway between the towns of Nisswa and Pequot Lakes) for our week or two of "leave" time. I somehow get the feeling that this pre-packing insanity comes from a combination of being a military dependent and being a Jones with added intensity of knowing the Fibro fog can strike at any time. I do have a hazy memory or two of packing up the station wagon a couple of hours before we have to leave in the middle of the night, climbing into the vehicle and heading out before we kids fell back asleep for a few hours. I also know that my inability to fall asleep in the front passenger seat is a habit picked up when I was a teenager and we went on family trips. The front seat passenger is the "co-pilot" who is responsible for keeping the driver awake, getting tolls ready, opening drinks for the driver and anything else to assist the driver during a long trip. Therefore, the front seat passenger is <b><i>not allowed</i></b> to sleep. Even more than 20 years after I left my parents' house, I can't shake that training.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-72844791604565619862012-05-11T19:29:00.002-04:002012-05-12T08:37:12.741-04:00What a Difference A Day (and the Mail) Makes!Yesterday I was feeling very low. I already knew that my Mother's Day gift from Patrick and RP would be going out to eat. Not a card, not a bottle of wine, not a really nice diamond for me to set into a piece of jewelry for myself ... just dinner.<br />
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Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate being told to pick someplace to go eat where *I* didn't have to cook. But I also knew that depending on which place to eat I chose, my husband was inevitably going to ask if we should bring Grandma. *sigh* I love my Mother In Law, I really do. She is very involved in RP's life and takes him to Story Time at the Library as well as Sunday School (a bit too often for this non-Christian Mommy) plus sometimes even just to go to the park to play on the playground. Having that small amount of time to myself is PRICELESS. But with "sharing" so many holidays with her (Christmas Eve is ALWAYS at Grandma's house) I get a little tired of not having a special day all to myself.<br />
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Then I read something on one of my favorite blogs <a href="http://www.rantsfrommommyland.com/" target="_blank">Rants From Mommyland</a> about a project they had. Back during the Holiday season last year they started hooking up Mommies who needed some help (Hookees) and some encouragement with Mommies who wanted to help (Hookers). It was such a big hit that they decided to do it again. This time it was for Mother's Day and they were calling it the <a href="http://www.rantsfrommommyland.com/2012/05/these-hookers-are-taking-mothers-day.html" target="_blank">Mother Pucker Project</a>. To boil down the idea ... Mommies who needed some encouragement and support and just a little Mommy Love would get gifts and all the Mommy Love that another Mommy could send. Now, I had not yet started following these AWESOME Mommies back in November and December, so I couldn't help out back then. But I decided I COULD help out this time, at least a little bit. The problem was that I felt also that I needed a bit of Mommy Love myself. See, my mommy died 10 years ago this Mother's Day. I didn't tell the wonderful Mommies behind Rants From Mommyland (who actually live only about 1 1/2 hours away from me) that little bit of information. For some reason it just didn't come up in my email. But the closer I got to Mother's Day the more the realization that Mom had been gone for <b>10 years</b> just hit me in the face. This comes a week and a day after the anniversary of my older brother, Butch, being gone for 13 years. Needless to say, I have been in lower and lower spirits as the week has gone on. I miss them both so much! Go ahead and do the math ... RP is 5 years old and my brother and mom have been gone for 13 and 10 years respectively.<br />
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So, earlier this week I got my first Mother Pucker gift - the card from Erin who wanted to be pen pals. This was sweet, and I'm still not sure that I am really up to the task of writing to a pen pal; but I'm willing to try. I wrote her a 3 page letter which I printed out (since my handwriting is HORRIBLE if I write for too long) and some pictures of the insane asylum inmates I live with. But I was honestly still feeling lower and lower. Then today ... the PACKAGE arrived from a different Mother Pucker named Melissa. It has a bunch of stuff and was actually already FEATURED on Rants From Mommyland (so I'm going to steal their picture becuase my house is a mess).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Sjz2IyOu6cqynccOoFSpeZeFUSIHNE6wXw_yYly0NYEIES4o_-WSGRb4frRETCO4kwau5Koq6D74fQB8-V9Q3otzVDtQJ1FSUVL9ZYauOHVYK0-0Y57dJV6fEB6vripPm_QYqAk-OF9y/s1600/Survival+Kit.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Sjz2IyOu6cqynccOoFSpeZeFUSIHNE6wXw_yYly0NYEIES4o_-WSGRb4frRETCO4kwau5Koq6D74fQB8-V9Q3otzVDtQJ1FSUVL9ZYauOHVYK0-0Y57dJV6fEB6vripPm_QYqAk-OF9y/s640/Survival+Kit.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mother Pucker Survival Kit</td></tr>
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Included in the kit is an explanation:<br />
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Mother Pucker Survival Kit</div>
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Advil- For all of life’s “headaches”, whatever or whoever they may be</div>
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Baby Wipes- Because they are ah-freaking-mazing. Hello, I mean, what else can you use to take off your make up AND clean the toilet?</div>
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Ear Plugs- Because sometimes Calgon can’t take you away and you NEED a few minutes of peace, or because if you have to listen to DJ Lance on Yo Gabba Gabba one more time you might have to open up a fresh can</div>
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Dark Chocolate- Because Mommy needs her antioxidants!</div>
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Lip Gloss- To remind you of your inner sexy…bonus, the watermelon scent should mask the fact that it’s 4pm and you haven’t had a chance to brush your teeth</div>
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Individual T-Box- Because, obviously!!</div>
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I honestly feel that the Mother Pucker gift *I* sent out pales in comparison to this gift to me. I sent my Mother Pucker 3 tubes of beeswax lip balm in Chai Tea, Creme Brulee and Caramel flavors, a Thank You card and a natural Star Sapphire Pendant with a yellow diamond accent that I had made on a 22" chain.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7xmQXoDTqf7sHrOAYOHzcPHQWD_IJeOw1uuNhEYMxt5axa8ABPeMf8rvkOdt79EjOeSuCbkgCm8MVEcuPSrFa80QGHfVC9kM6Cc14MxiMKGAsBxXuDrYhQ8UVRPAtva8JiwtRzvY-Qwc3/s1600/DSCF1087.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7xmQXoDTqf7sHrOAYOHzcPHQWD_IJeOw1uuNhEYMxt5axa8ABPeMf8rvkOdt79EjOeSuCbkgCm8MVEcuPSrFa80QGHfVC9kM6Cc14MxiMKGAsBxXuDrYhQ8UVRPAtva8JiwtRzvY-Qwc3/s400/DSCF1087.JPG" /></a></div>
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji3MvpdMACYq58h9RLlF2PxoGPNrWLput7GSepRWX4chRSuWc1o9_vZl8kmre1_1QP7AEjpsZn1z0immIUhThvmzOnZ3SugoLBybPclMoeuo9aFpO2Kvcw3yvSVty1uMWGtrhSMg0tdh-O/s400/DSCF1099.JPG" /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DTzIUaWR40LZgUDL0a17Zokedu7w80sGwOEjpb5GRF1ama3lsQKp3d507Z6DYDP5mwqTi1jxebrhFlTFHdRf1jcMc9WRDaS9dcvQgAlvqIRm9jNiuRt3Bp9A4ywDyJrLAhknR24zrpHK/s1600/Lib+balm.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DTzIUaWR40LZgUDL0a17Zokedu7w80sGwOEjpb5GRF1ama3lsQKp3d507Z6DYDP5mwqTi1jxebrhFlTFHdRf1jcMc9WRDaS9dcvQgAlvqIRm9jNiuRt3Bp9A4ywDyJrLAhknR24zrpHK/s400/Lib+balm.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEKlxNLG7xkuRXS7dVE1OgueaoZr7ATTL2ymQXpKMPFe9G7uUXaj_wuZHdBo-ufd4xUb5nmOuQkOJygOLn_dd1NrEixFfDZ0InffyDDI_44xeJRkl1h6MywpcpLQtzolgg2oGDD9v3Uga/s1600/Card.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEKlxNLG7xkuRXS7dVE1OgueaoZr7ATTL2ymQXpKMPFe9G7uUXaj_wuZHdBo-ufd4xUb5nmOuQkOJygOLn_dd1NrEixFfDZ0InffyDDI_44xeJRkl1h6MywpcpLQtzolgg2oGDD9v3Uga/s640/Card.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-_Q-EDghErewOVRpuxDmRPgjpxaa2wBuSICU10dDEtcXYuKMQkEPXvWqgKPqu4xaV6IW-_-lxE6h35F-u35Xs_IoW2MbTstVczOTEi7n6JIEqU3ukmfWAWOp8AJjDFRNGrVsAPbtj8Wk/s1600/Card_text.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ-_Q-EDghErewOVRpuxDmRPgjpxaa2wBuSICU10dDEtcXYuKMQkEPXvWqgKPqu4xaV6IW-_-lxE6h35F-u35Xs_IoW2MbTstVczOTEi7n6JIEqU3ukmfWAWOp8AJjDFRNGrVsAPbtj8Wk/s640/Card_text.jpg" /></a> </div>
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The note I wrote</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I feel that I didn't do much since I had the setting, stones and chain on hand due to my shop <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/CymryCatsCreations">Cat's Creations on Etsy</a> ... but I felt strongly that this Mommy needed to know she was a star. It didn't take as much planning and thought as what Melissa sent to me (and hers was one of the packages I felt humbled by before I knew it was FOR ME).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">To say that this gift from Melissa and the offer of a pen pal friendship has touched me would be an understatement. They were just what I NEEDED today, especially since I almost literally cried myself to sleep last night and woke up feeling slightly better (at least I wasn't in danger of crying again) but still blue and bereft. Thanks to my Mother Puckers and BIG thanks to Rants From Mommyland in setting this while project in motion. You all ROCK MY FACE OFF!</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-44184046742869897952012-05-10T16:49:00.003-04:002012-05-12T08:39:15.239-04:00Can I Have Some Cheese? I'm About To Whine.I don't know what it is today, but I just feel so insignificant and unimportant. It seems that I don't matter and I don't count and nobody gives a damn.<br />
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I know part of it is that I've been waiting for the birthday card from my dad and it hasn't arrived yet. My birthday was March 25th. He sent it - to the wrong address - in early April and got it back but hasn't re-sent it yet. It's not even the check that he usually sends that I'm missing emotionally ... it's the CARD not being here that has me down. I don't CARE about the freakin money! Now, I know that he's busy taking care of my step-mom and he's maybe getting forgetful these days, but it just seems like I'm about dead last on his priority list these days. I know intellectually that he loves me, and I've heard enough stories about him telling stories about my growing up from my step-mom; but there's a long history that just hits my gut and emotions even if it's not entirely rational. See, shortly after my brother was born our mom (who was only HIS mom back then) had a mental breakdown when Butch "preferred" my dad to Mom. Mom tried to commit suicide over it. So, when Mom was pregnant with me, Dad was told to "let" me prefer Mom to him and be more hands-off. But Dad was a military man and nobody told him when to STOP. Then our little sister was born and since he didn't have the prohibition against being hands-on with my sister, I got to watch Daddy play with Butch and our sister, hold them and "love" them and I got a big fat NOTHING. Until I was 13 and he actually tried to hug me for the first time. But by then I had heard about parents who maybe got "too close" to their kids and did bad things to them so I was scared and pushed him away ... I mean, that wasn't MY Dad ... that was my brother and sister's Dad - even though we share 100% of the exact same parentage genetically. Then when I was 16 I was told in no uncertain terms that I was a failure and would ALWAYS be a failure, this probably was a result of me not going to school and my dad being frustrated at my lack of ambition. I don't think he really MEANT it - now. But it still made an impression on me that I wasn't "good enough" and I would NEVER be "good enough" to him. So ... my knee-jerk reaction at times like this (or when I or my son do something "wrong" around my dad and step-mom) is to feel once again like I'm either that 8 or 9 year old who is watching Dad play and laugh with my siblings and ignoring me or to feel like that 16 year old young woman who will never be "good enough".<br />
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Let's add to that with the fact that for my birthday this year, I didn't receive a card from my hubby or son. I got to go out to eat and pick out a few plants at Home Depot. For Mother's Day I'll also be taken out to eat and I doubt I'll get a card. I know money is tight right now ... but this just feels like "She's a horrible wife and mommy, she doesn't DESERVE a card or a small gift".<br />
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In addition to that, I don't want RP to go to church this weekend with Grandma (he's been every Sunday this past month or so except for the ONE time Grandma didn't go to her own church) and I know that if I voice this, it'll be an argument or at least a huffy attitude from my husband. I get the feeling more and more that he doesn't LIKE the fact that his wife isn't even nominally a Christian. Like I'm weird and loopy and my spirituality and wishes should be downplayed for a more "traditional" spirituality and religion. Like Grandma is somehow more "right" than me and has more of a "right" to guide our child in that area. And that hurts. Just the thought of it hurts. I don't mind him going once in a while, even though Grandma attends a church that is one step off from Southern Baptist and they regard me as "DOOMED TO HELL". Oh, and my entire side of my immediate family as well since my step-mom is Wiccan and my Dad actually follows close to my own thoughts (or maybe I follow his) in terms of spirituality, my niece is fairly close to what I think, my sister-in-law (and brother when he was alive) are/were also similar to what I believe and my sister is agnostic. I'm not crazy, I'm not dangerous, I'm neither immoral or amoral, I just don't believe that there IS "one true path" and I also believe that ANY religion or spirituality that emphasizes hate over love for a person based on that person's religion or spirituality is HARMFUL. Now, don't get me wrong, Christianity itself does NOT actually teach hate - it's what people have DONE with it that has changed some branches to stress hate of the outsider, including WITHIN Christianity. Is it that awful that I want my son to learn tolerance? That I want to teach him to respect people who are different and believe differently from him? That I want to stress LOVE over HATE? Is it REALLY that horrible of me? Is it horrible that I don't want him to be told to HATE half of his family because they don't adhere to Christianity?<br />
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I'm just feeling low. Like I said in the beginning. I don't seem to matter. I'm insignificant.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-90371269511814687822012-04-30T18:59:00.001-04:002012-04-30T18:59:52.120-04:00I Am Not Responsible For What I Write TodayLet me tell you, having a neurotransmitter disorder, insomnia and teeth that are slowly going bad due to the side effect known as "cotton mouth" or "dry mouth" really is not a walk in the park. The NTD makes it so that pain is amplified - that's ALL pain. So when I am having toothaches in the middle of the night they literally wake me up from the pain. That means that I was up last night<br />
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EVERY</div>
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TWO</div>
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HOURS.</div>
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Now, as if that wasn't bad enough, I have slow-sleep insomnia so it takes me a bit longer to get to sleep or to go back to sleep. Sometimes it's as "short" as 15 minutes and sometimes it's as long as two to three hours. The first time I woke up, I was only awake for about half an hour to 45 minutes before I went back to sleep so that was ok. But still ... if I couldn't get to sleep until AFTER 2 and woke up at 4 then was awake for about half an hour - well, you do the math. Next I woke up at about 6:15 and was UP such that I knew that it would be at least an hour before I would feel sleepy again, and then if I went back to sleep I would lie there anticipating RP waking up so I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. So I just stayed up.<br />
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Now, I'm NOT a morning person ... I'm an "owl" (hence the late bedtime). RP goes back and forth between getting up "early" (before 8:30) and getting up "late" (after 9:00) but seems to be moving towards being an owl and Patrick is an owl as well. My child ... who USED to wake me up at 5 am for his breakfast and then continued to wake me up at about 6 even after he stopped nursing (thus making for an exhausted Mommy) is happily staying awake until after MIDNIGHT - even when I put him to bed earlier. But anyway ... that's a bit off track from the opening phrase from this paragraph. I do not reach "peak" until after 3 pm - which played havoc with my schooling - and have a "second wind" that kicks in sometime about 9 or 10 PM instead of 5 or 6 PM for most people. Needless to say, I've been grumpy and cranky or even maybe B!TCHY (take your pick) all day. Poor little guy has had to put up with a cranky Mommy. *sigh*<br />
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My brain is MUSH. I feel if I shake my head hard right now that it will drip out of my ears or nose like so much lumpy, watery oatmeal. I texted the dear hubby that I am not up for talking tonight and that I would talk to him tomorrow night and why. He actually understands - at least somewhat.<br />
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Now, I DID get a very broken nap today which added MAYBE another 2 hours to the 3 1/2 I got last night. That's still only 5 1/2 hours ... which for me is so much less than my body NEEDS that it's pitiful. I'm currently plotting how to get the kid into bed early tonight so that <b><u><i>I</i></u></b> can get to bed early.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-20884323343939898142012-04-25T21:38:00.000-04:002012-04-25T21:38:07.911-04:00Guppies and Lizards and Chaos, OH MY!Well, our fancy guppy population seems to be swelling every time I look at the aquarium. I swear we now have at least 3 spawnings swimming around with all the adults. My friend who was going to take babies off my hands has decided that the 6 she got are enough since they'll populate her tank in no time. I may be able to get my SIL to take a few off our hands since my nephew has a tank that has nothing in it at the moment. But what to do with the rest of them now and in the future?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My two males</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fishies EVERYWHERE!</td></tr>
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Luckily, I can use the Internet (it WAS my job once to help others use an Internet site). I have found a few pet stores not owned by the two major chains (that start with Pet). One has already responded that they can and will take fry off my hands. I'll contact the third one on my list tomorrow to see if they're interested and also search for others in the region that may be able to help me out. If I can get 2 or more stores interested, then I can alternate stores so that I'm not flooding the market so to speak. I may keep a few of the babies of these pairings because they promise to be really pretty (even though I have failed in my quest to have a BLUE fancy guppy). I may keep a female or two and see if I can find a blue fancy somewhere to further mix up the gene pool or I may just ignore the conventional breeding wisdom and just go get a male blue.</div>
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As if fish stress wasn't enough, I have lizard worries as well. Virginia is home to a variety of types of skinks - at least that's the type of lizard we have living in our yard. The prettier one is called a five-lined skink. They have five lines running from their heads down to their tails (which would be why they are called five-lined) and when the tail is the original tail it is a very pretty blue color, at least until they reach full adulthood. The heads of the five-lined skinks for the males turn a brighter orangey-color for mating purposes in the spring. We also have broad headed skinks in our yard which closely resemble the five-lined skinks except that they are larger and tend not to have the stripes.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A male 5-lined skink ready for wooing his female. Note the blue in his lines indicating it's his original tail.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This may be an adult broad-headed skink also ready for love.</td></tr>
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Skinks are very beneficial in the yard and garden because they eat BUGS. They are not harmful at all and are pretty skittish when confronted by humans. My cats found out the hard way that at least for felines, they do not agree with the digestive tract. They actually are rather interesting creatures since their tails can pop off and writhe in a convincingly lifelike manner while the rest of the skink runs off to safety. I rather like them in my garden and around the outside of the house. But we have a problem.</div>
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I have a VERY large stainless steel bowl outside for water for when Aine decides to spend a fair amount of time in the yard. She likes having water and it's a safety issue for her to have access since she is a rather dark-coated LARGE dog. In the past week or two, I started having to rescue skinks from Aine's water dish. They are able to use the concrete steps to climb up to the lip and jump in, but the sides are so steep and slippery to them that they can't get OUT. Today alone I rescued two different skinks while Aine looked on and then tried to chase them (to play) once I got them out of the dish. The two today may be old tenants of our yard since they actually allowed me to pick them up to gently deposit them outside of the dish. I know some of the past years' skinks have become almost blase about me being out and about in the yard and don't bother to run and hide.</div>
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Chaos? That's just the current state of my house and my mind. In a way I can't wait for RP to go to school so I can have some time every day to get the house in order without someone complaining that they were playing with that (4 hours ago or yesterday) and throwing a temper tantrum. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-46209941078300851762012-04-20T12:56:00.000-04:002012-04-20T12:56:41.534-04:00I'm NOT Christian, But I AM a Good MotherThere's been a lot that has happened since my last blog post. I guess the best way to tackle this would be to go chronologically.<br />
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RP is registered for Kindergarten. Yay? I filled in all the forms (and got hand cramps doing it), turned in his physical form, allowed someone from the school to take my precious child away and "test" his readiness for Kindergarten and did it all without a single tear. It was a madhouse since they were running behind with the testing of the kids and the school nurse had to go take care of mid-day medications while we were there, so there was a LOT of waiting. It's a good thing that Mommy has GAMES on her cell phone to occupy a 5 year old while we waited for the testing to happen. We arrived at the same time as another mommy and her little girl and RP introduced himself and started to play with the little girl right away as I filled out form after form after form. The paperwork part went fairly smoothly since I had everything at hand and had my cell phone for phone numbers. The hitch came after they took my baby away to test him. It just seemed to take FOREVER for him to come back. There were kids who left AFTER he did that came back BEFORE he did, and my paranoia went crazy worrying that he is woefully unprepared. When he finally DID come back, I was informed that he "very smart and very imaginative". Apparently he talked the tester's ear off and read a few of the words in a book that they were using to test story-telling ability (tell the story of the picture). Out of 100 "points" he scored 96. WHAT??? Doesn't that translate into an "A" if he were actually in school? I mean, I knew he was kinda bright (and expected him to be since both Patrick and I are) since I don't know of any other kid who at 18 months knew the word "contraption" and could use it correctly in a sentence ... but that kind of floored me. Our instructions for preparing him? "Have a great summer!" Oh, and continue to read to/with him.<br />
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Now, I have NOT been pushing stuff like sight-words, math, penmanship (obviously, his is<b><i> AWFUL</i></b>!), calculus, playing the violin ... so I was afraid that he would need some help in order to get ready for school in the fall. We HAVE been reading to him for as long as I can remember (I can't remember when we started) and we always tried to speak in complete sentences since before he was born ... we refused to do "baby talk" and asked our families to also speak normally to him. I admit that we allowed ourselves to repeat mispronunciations like "hospible" (What is that, anyway? A hospitable hospital?) when talking to him, but we always started out with the correct ones until he insisted that WE were wrong. But I have been so anti-pushing him to learn on MY schedule that I was afraid that I was doing him a dis-service by not pushing things. I guess I was actually doing it RIGHT? I mean, I was the one who was home with him all the time. Patrick and Grandma had some influence, but it was ME who was the one who decided to let him learn more organically.<br />
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BUT - this result from the Kindergarten testing has me worried. I remember how <b><u>BORED</u></b> I was in school in Middle School and High School. I sought out things to learn about on my own even in Elementary School because I wanted to know MORE about the subjects that were taught. I have been a voracious reader all of my life (and was a bit more advanced at reading that RP is when I started Kindergarten) so THAT helped me to learn even more. I have been concerned ever since he appeared to be learning things quickly that I would really have to help supplement his learning as he gets older. Oh well ... I'll figure it out.<br />
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Now, on to the other half of this blog entry ...<br />
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At the request of my Mother-In-Law and my husband (who just wanted to SHUT HER UP on feeling that I was preventing RP from attending Sunday School at her church), I started allowing RP to go to church with Grandma. I had very grave misgivings about it since my entire side of the family is either agnostic or some flavor of "pagan", but it seemed to be important to Grandma and I DO want RP to have access to a variety of religions and religious instruction. I personally am NOT Christian and I DO NOT like Grandma's church because they are just this side of Southern Baptist, but I still let him go with Grandma. I figured it would help give him some experience at following directions in a classroom setting and give him even more socialization. But we have come to a problem, in my opinion.<br />
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I was sick last week and RP said he would pray to Jesus for me to feel better. When I pointed out that he could ALSO pray to the Goddess, he said that his Sunday School teacher said <b><i>I</i></b> could pray to whomever I wanted but that she wants <b>HIM</b> to pray to <b><u><i>Jesus</i></u></b>. Um ... wait a fucking second, lady ... I am his mother, not you. You have now effectively started undermining me by that instruction. What ever happened to the commandment to "honor thy father and mother"? I guess that's only for "non-heathen" Christian or Jewish children. It made me honestly feel COLD inside. It also made me very angry.<br />
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I am trying very hard to raise a child who is tolerant of differences in other people, especially when it comes to religious matters. I am a moral person - I have to be. I was raised by a commissioned Air Force officer. My child is being raised to be polite, have respect for authority (but not blindly follow authority if it means harm to him or others) and to treat others the way they want to be treated. He is being raised with "An ye harm none, do as ye will" as the guiding principle in his life ... and the 10 commandments boil down to just that. Lying harms both yourself and other people. Murder, well that one should be obvious that it is hurting another person. Coveting/Jealousy hurts yourself and the relationship with the person you are jealous of. Keeping one day "holy" for rest is to prevent you from harming yourself with overwork. Honoring your elders is to prevent you from harming the relationship with them and to maintain your community ties. As far as the "Thou shalt have no other Gods before me" ... well, putting Jesus ahead of God is just that, as well as the Virgin Mary and myriad of Saints in the Catholic church . The no graven images is broken by most churches who have pictures of Jesus AND GOD in the church, as well as the aforementioned Mary and the Saints. I have no images of any gods in my home, and I break down my Higher Power into a masculine and feminine who are EQUAL (thus no god is put before another). Technically I am following those commandments better than the Christians are in my eyes. I am not anti-Christian. I am anti what people have done with the religion. I don't understand why over half of the New Testament consists of letters purportedly by a man who never actually MET Jesus and who spouted misogyny at every chance he could. I just don't understand it.<br />
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One of my main concerns stems from my Father-In-Law's funeral where the "preacher" told a story about his dentist and what a lovely man he is. This dentist is gentle, giving, compassionate and a very moral man according to the "preacher". What a shame that the dentist is <b>GOING TO HELL</b> because he's <b>JEWISH</b>. This set off alarm bells in my mind. What the hell are they going to tell my son about his Grammy who is Wiccan? Or MOMMY who has done a lot of comparative religious study and blended aspects of many religions into her own spirituality? I ascribe to aspects of Wicca, Druidry and Shamanism. These are my HERITAGE. I am part Lakota and very Celtic in other parts ... so these religions come from my ancestors. My father always felt more in tune with his Higher Power when out in nature (which makes sense since my Druidry comes to me through his family tree). I descend from Picts, Druids, Angles, Saxons, Galls, Norsemen/Norsewomen, Lakota, Romans and even supposedly Jews (specifically, Joseph of Aramathea). I honor ALL of my ancestors in my spirituality. Isn't that what I am SUPPOSED to do? Isn't that what my son is supposed to do? I am scared that he will be POISONED against his family because of this church.<br />
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Ugh.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-84301425814630048672012-03-27T12:53:00.000-04:002012-03-27T12:53:43.681-04:00Kindergarten Registration is WHEN?In a week I will be herding my little whirlwind into the Highlander and going to the elementary school to formally commit him into the hands of strangers this fall. I have mixed feelings about this, mainly because it's ALL DAY Kindergarten and he's only been gone all day with a member of the family before. I'm not sure I'm ready for him to start school. HE'S ready, but I may not be.<br />
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First off, I'd like to know who gave him PERMISSION to grow up. I certainly never gave him permission to go from the cute toddling stage to the riding-a-bike-going-to-school-ready-to-lose-baby-teeth stage. I loved that little gummy grin - while he had it. He decided at the age of TWO MONTHS to start teething and never stopped until he had all 20 primary teeth. He constantly had teeth on the move so we really only had issues with it disturbing his sleep when they were actively erupting.<br />
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"I'm ready for the Jumperoo Safari, Mommy"</div>
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How did we go from a baby to a BIG BOY?</div>
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Playing Wii with Daddy</div>
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Where the heck did the time go? I mean, Wasn't he<b> just</b> a little baby who needed help with everything and didn't help himself to whatever was in the fridge? I miss that little guy who I carried around and stayed wherever you put him. Granted, he started walking at 10 1/2 months so that didn't last very long, but it was nice to know where he was at all times. I didn't have to worry that he was writing on our truck with rocks or riding his bike into a tree or might fall off the swing set-"Pirate ship". <i><b>*I*</b></i> chose what he wore every day and dressed him. I got to cuddle with him every morning, twice a day for naps and then at night before he went to sleep as he nursed and used me for a pacifier. He didn't swamp the bathroom as he took baths because HIS tub fit into our tub.</div>
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"Look, Mommy! I'm NEKKID!"</div>
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I really love to watch him play. He was so entertaining and so full of personality, even as a baby. He carried that personality through as a crawler (which was so very brief) and then as a toddler. He just was fun to be around! He was also so photogenic. I loved taking pictures of him no matter what he was doing.<br />
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The pianist formerly known as Baby RP </div>
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Granted, he was always one to be assertive about wanting to be fed, even as an infant. He let us know when he was hungry in so many different ways. At first it was by crying and nuzzling into my chest as he sought for his best friend - Right Boob. Then as a crawler he decided the best way was to crawl over, pull himself up on my pants and look me in the face with his demands.<br />
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I WANT COOKIE!</div>
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It's really amazing that the stage of relying on Mommy for food didn't last very long. As soon as he figured out how to walk and climb, he was raiding the freezer and fridge. His sense of style also started to develop. Granted, it was somewhat odd at times - but it was so much fun to watch him start to try to put together outfits. He still has a quirky style sense, but we have started to trust him a bit more on putting together his own outfits. He asks what type of clothes he needs and gets them for himself.<br />
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"This shrimp scampi looks good for lunch"</div>
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"Silly Mommy! I just wanted some Elmo Juice. I needed the boots because the freezer is COLD."</div>
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Where did that adorable little guy turn into one who is SCHOOL AGED? I'm SO not ready for this. At least we still have the summer and our beach trip before we have to watch him get on that big, yellow bus and head off into the maw of formal schooling. I have a few more months to relish his inquisitive nature, his weird sense of humor, his wonderful cuddles and his ability to really come up with the most funny things to say.<br />
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I love my little guy. I hope I've done well enough to prepare him for school before he actually has to start.<br />
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Preparing for the Pre-Schooler Golf Tour.</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-8457228787364463632012-03-24T21:59:00.000-04:002012-03-24T21:59:36.447-04:00Just Feeling InsignificantWhat does it say when your husband simply doesn't buy you ANYTHING for your birthday? Not a card, not a small thing ... NOTHING. Nothing from him or from our son, either. Instead what I am getting is dinner out.<br />
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This leaves me feeling like I just don't FUCKING MATTER. I mean, he didn't even ask what I might have wanted, which leads me to think that either a) he doesn't care, b) I'm not important, c) I don't have a c. It's not even that he can claim that he had NO TIME since he and the little guy went to the National Zoo in DC on Wednesday - without ME. SO he fucking HAD TIME ... he just chose NOT to buy anything.<br />
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To say I'm hurt and angry would be an understatement.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-90743862921472890252012-03-13T17:20:00.000-04:002012-03-13T17:20:01.322-04:00Ok, so I SUCK at BloggingIt has dawned on me that I really am horrible at blogging. I just can't seem to come up with anything to say most days. I don't know if this stems from FibroFog, an uneventful life, depression or just being a deficient human being.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-81482206263365002912012-03-03T23:08:00.000-05:002012-03-03T23:08:11.693-05:00Pregnant Guppies and RasborasOk. We have 5 yellow fancy guppy fry and the one survivor from the leopard tail spawning. Now our red-gold rasbora female is VERY pregnant and it looks like my two new green fancy guppy females came in pregnant as well. EEK! Can you say fry explosion is imminent? *sigh* My friend Doreene can only take so many of the fry (and I don't want to overload her on one type) so I'm facing what I can do in terms of re-homing some of these fry at some point. I don't have a nursery tank for the fry (but that may become something we have to get) so I can only keep fry for so long before I HAVE to find them new places to live. Patrick just told me a friend of his sells their guppy fry to pet stores ... so maybe I can look into that. Especially as we start to get the cross-breeding going to get some really interesting fry. But for now ... what the HECK am I gonna do? Within the next 4 weeks we will have so many fry it won't be funny.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-70031901788199921362012-02-20T10:00:00.002-05:002012-02-20T10:00:31.208-05:00On Being a Horrible BloggerOk, so I haven't blogged in a while. I've been dealing with a myriad of issues such as inadequate sleep, exploding fantail guppy populations, going to my Dad's for most of a week to visit, the normal 5 year old issues and just in general feeling like since nobody is following my blog then why should I bother?<br />
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On to the fantail guppies. We had one guppy who spawned before I had adequate cover for the fry. Of the probably 6 to 9 fry in that spawning, we have one who has survived long enough to no longer be threatened by the older fish. The surviving fry looks like maybe it's a mix of the leopard fantail that is its mom and some other fantail or molly father since the tail markings appear to be different. Then again - maybe the fry is a male and it's supposed to have different markings. Who knows? We'll see what it develops into as it grows.<br />
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Then I got another pregnant guppy from the store. She has a yellow tail with a red stripe at the top. She spawned the night before last and I can count at least 8 fry. Since I now have sufficient cover, we may wind up with many of those fry surviving to a size that is sufficient to prevent them from being eaten by the adults. Luckily, I have a friend who has a 55 gallon tank and is willing to take up to 21 guppy fry from me. She also advised me to look online for some fancier/prettier guppies to cross breed. I already have a salmon male in the tank, but I may want to get a blue variety as well.<br />
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Not much else on my mind at the moment. I just wanted to blog something so I wouldn't feel like the World's Worst Blogger.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-35662567460708828402012-01-26T11:07:00.000-05:002012-04-26T13:18:57.683-04:00Fish, Computer Issues and Body Part FunctionsWell, it's been a while since my last blog posting. It's been a very busy few weeks in our house.<br /><br />We took RP to the pet store and bought him a 15 gallon aquarium with his Yule money from Grampa and Grammy. We then proceeded to start trying to stock the aquarium with fish and decorations. The decorating process went well with blue, green and white gravel, a tiki, the Crusty Crab, a GIANT Gary, a purple dragon, shark jaws, four plastic plants, quartz from our yard (it had been washed a long time ago), a clear quartz point and REAL jewels for the dragon's treasure. Then we got the fish - which is where the problems started.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dPuvbvsomNgmIxiVmfZ9L1-dRvKLV1raMDQVNVbisDShmIb1fL1eHwQv9D_PmWKME4SOZH2U_PlHpR4f5zlBYwjfBfjBbxFMRoOlr8mOuLMTha4dTB2GVUVZZgGKd6KPdHcznRpA8DY4/s1600/P1016447.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dPuvbvsomNgmIxiVmfZ9L1-dRvKLV1raMDQVNVbisDShmIb1fL1eHwQv9D_PmWKME4SOZH2U_PlHpR4f5zlBYwjfBfjBbxFMRoOlr8mOuLMTha4dTB2GVUVZZgGKd6KPdHcznRpA8DY4/s640/P1016447.JPG" /></a><br /><br />We bought two neon-colored "glow" danios ... one red and one green, two swordtails, two glowstick tetras and an albino pleco. Things were fine at first, the fish settled in and were happy. But on the fourth day, RP wanted to feed the fish and all hell broke loose.<br /><br />He has a bad habit of twisting the tops on bottles and jars while he is talking or otherwise engaged. He came to me in the kitchen with the jar of fish flakes and asked to feed the fish. I said sure (since we had shown him how much to use and he'd done it before) and went back to what I was doing. Then I hear him tell me that he put in "a little bit too much" ... I turn around to find the top of the fish food INSIDE the aquarium on the bottom and the entire container of food in the aquarium. Within a few minutes, the water was turning cloudy. I scooped out as much of the food as I could and we went to the pet store to get a net (since they were out of the smaller sized nets when we got the fish) and a gravel vacuum. While we were in town, Patrick called and asked if there were supposed to be fish in the tank and shouldn't he be able to see them? RP and I got the vacuum, the net, some chemicals to clear up the water and some more fish - two more neon danios (purple and blue), two fantail mollies and two more tetras.<br /><br />We got home from the store to find that the water was so cloudy you could not see into the tank. This began the madcap process of trying to vacuum the gravel, change the water and try to keep fish alive. I spent hours over the next several days trying to clear out the tank and save the fish. But ammonia got most of them and we were left with only the purple and blue danios and one fantail molly. I did eventually manage to get the water clear and we let the fish rest for a couple of days before RP and I went out to get more fish for the aquarium - a replacement pleco, replacement green and red danios, new swordtails, one replacement fantail and eventually a spotted cory cat and a platy. Our blue fantail from the second purchase didn't make it, but I had figured it was on it's last legs since it wasn't eating.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Rp7ej4qxzmuPtGPogG6C4uxoqqZN8Abt21IOt5XV7IHN34jTfYiWoL8wXCbo5hUP4v-AsahbAVNl06CeTikhYrd-MC-dho1fiapz-e-d9C2HvRdwMdeo-J68YamW2x5nNb3EgD2MZvfb/s1600/P1016448.JPG"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Rp7ej4qxzmuPtGPogG6C4uxoqqZN8Abt21IOt5XV7IHN34jTfYiWoL8wXCbo5hUP4v-AsahbAVNl06CeTikhYrd-MC-dho1fiapz-e-d9C2HvRdwMdeo-J68YamW2x5nNb3EgD2MZvfb/s640/P1016448.JPG" /></a><br /><br />While all this fishy business was going on, my computer developed a problem. It would turn on and we could hear it boot, but we couldn't see anything on the monitor. So for a week I was without a computer (thank goodness for tablets and smart phones which allowed me to at least keep in touch with people). We did eventually send it out to a repair person and we found out that for once the computer wasn't the issue .... it was the monitor that had died. So we purchased a new monitor (bigger and better than the old one) and I was finally able to get back online.<br /><br />Now for the funny part of this blog post. RP asked if he could go to Grandma's house this morning. I dialed the number for him and he asked if he could come down to play. Grandma said that she was on her way out the door to the post office but he could come down when she got back. RP told me (and Grandma) that he was "disappointed" but at least he didn't have a temper tantrum over it. I told her I would get him dressed while she was out.<br /><br />I helped RP pick out some clothes and was adjusting the waistband and length of some new jeans. While I was working on his new jeans, he sat on his bed nekkid from the waist down mashing his penis between his fingers. He informed me "Mommy, my penis is squishy between my fingers." Then he started on the testicles, checking to make sure that they were still there and they still numbered two. Now came the BIG question every mother dreads .... <br /><br /><br />"Mommy, what are testicles for?"<br /><br /><br />I was flabbergasted at this question and it made me pause. I just was not expecting to have to answer something like that now. Since Patrick and I have decided that we want him to know the correct terms for his body parts and we're not going to lie about their functions I decided that I had to tell him the truth. Besides, I couldn't think of a convincing LIE to get me out of the awkward situation. So I told him that testicles make sperm and that sperm combine with an egg from a girl or woman to start a baby. I didn't get into any more detail than that ...<br /><br />Now, some people might have a problem with a few things ... a) we have no problem with him running around the house - inside - without clothing (as long as we don't have company), b) we regard exploration of his body as a natural thing and only request that he only does it at home and nowhere else, c) we give him the correct terms for his body parts (and sometimes Mommy's body parts since he has been known to shower with us), d) we feel that to lie about any body function is more harmful than giving him age-appropriate explanations about what the body parts do, e) we don't require him to wear shoes most of the time and f) we in general want him to regard his body as normal, healthy and never as something to be ashamed of or feel "dirty" about. Maybe part of it is my mother's quasi-hippie leanings when I was growing up and never being told that sex or anything to do with the body was dirty. Maybe it's just that I've seen too many people with inappropriate hang-ups about their body. Maybe part of it is just my spirituality. I just never understood why some people decide to make their children feel bad about their bodies and normal, healthy exploration or lie about things like where babies come from like it's something nasty.<br /><br />In any event, the cat is out of the bag as to how babies are made (sort of). I guess I knew in the back of my mind that around the age of 6 most kids start getting curious about how babies are made and the functions of body parts. But it still surprised me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-25024726806839911272011-12-31T21:50:00.000-05:002011-12-31T21:50:10.971-05:00New Year's Eve? Really?How can it be the end of 2011 already? Didn't I just buy a Highlander (my very first new vehicle I've ever even partly owned)? It can't be over 10 months since we drove it home from the dealership, taking turns on the <b><u>hour</u> long</b> drive home.<br />
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Once upon a time, New Year's Eve was a time to get together with friends, drink prodigious quantities of alcohol, watch the ball drop on TV and just be silly in an adult type of way. Now? Well, I'm sitting at a computer screen typing into the ether (and wondering if anybody will ever start to read my aimless wanderings) while my loving 5 year old and husband play a new Wii game that RP got for Yule from Grandpa and Grammy.<br />
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Isn't it wonderful when Daddies and sons play nicely together?</div>
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And what are they playing, you might ask? Well, the following pictures might help you to figure that out ... </div>
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The dog is stretched out as far as she can with from her paw-pits/mid-ribs down IN her bed and the rest of her body OUT of her bed. I can't figure out why she almost never has all of her body in her bed ... usually it's her hips and hind legs in and the rest of her body stretched out in front along the carpeted floor. I don't quite understand her need to only cushion the hind end of her body, but she seems to be happy with it ...<br />
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Micah - aka "Professor Fluffybuns" - is stretched out near a dining room chair just preening in his fluffiness and enjoying being a well-fed rescue who is loved and pampered with his very own silly Mastiff to attack, I mean play with. I have no idea where Dylan has hidden himself.<br />
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Earlier this week we were visited by Grampa, Grammy, Aunt Annemarie and Tori. This was the first time that Tori has visited our house and the third time I have seen her in person. </div>
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She looks quite a bit like her mommy at this age, with curls she received from both sides of the family. Luckily, RP has learned that his younger cousins are to be treated gently and he's very good with them. Then again, he did get quite a bit of practice with this from playing with his cousin on Daddy's side, Chase.</div>
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I just love how much he loves playing with younger kids. After all, there is an age difference between the two that is exactly 2 weeks shy of being 3 years. He also has very little gender "exclusivity with the toys. He very gladly accepted Tori's new "singing teddy bear" to dance with in the Living Room. I am so proud of my little guy!</div>
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No Yule visit would be complete without terrorizing Grandpa! It really warms my heart to see my dad playing with his name-sake and really having fun. After having grown up in the military, I didn't get much of a chance to see my dad PLAYING. The joy he takes in RP melts my heart in a way that I just can't put into words. I regret that RP will never know my Mom, but I am very grateful that he gets to know his Grandpa and play with him. My own Grandpa Jones wasn't much for playing with us grandkids the same way that Dad plays with RP. I don't really know why, other than that Grandpa Jones was an only child so maybe he never really learned how to play with kids and then he was a parent during the mid 40's through the 60's so the culture was one in which fathers didn't spend a lot of time playing with their kids.<br />
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Well, as another holiday season closes out and the year of 2011 draws down to a close; I have to say that overall it's been a pretty decent year. There have been some ups and downs, but we made it to the end of the year without loss in the family and with our minds almost as intact as they were at the beginning of the year. I hope that 2012 treats the world gently and kindly. For all of my friends and family, I hope that we all enjoy good health (or as good as we can) and joy this coming year. So Mote it Be.</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-56051491045191024092011-12-22T21:43:00.002-05:002012-04-26T13:14:50.143-04:00My Little Man on FaceBookI wanted to share some of the funnier episodes and conversations I've had with RP. Luckily, with the Timeline profile I can "go back in time" and find some of the funnier things to share here.<br />
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<b>March 20, 2009</b> - thinks it's disturbing for your son to pat your chest and say "I *like* boobs" when he's told to leave them alone.<br />
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<b>March 23 2009</b> - toddler just packed a variety of biscotti and some applesauce in a bag. Nobody knows where he's going ... <br />
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<b>May 31 2009</b> - overheard from Little Man's bedroom after Daddy installed a new window a/c unit and several suspicious beeps: "Stop pushing buttons! Good lord, you've turned it down to 61!"<br />
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<b>June 6 2009</b> - cute quotes (and toddler-mayhem) of the day. When found with a silicone spatchula in the jar of peanut butter ... "I'm PAINTING." When told you don't use peanut butter to "paint" on the fridge .. "But I want to paint..." (said in a very plaintive tone.<br />
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<b>August 12 2009 </b>- I made a microwaved lunch. RP came running into the kitchen "I smell something good" and opened the microwave and looked inside. "Where's the food? Where's the food?" as he looked around. I came into the kitchen and he saw me holding the food ... "YOU took the food, Mommy. YOU took the food! I want some, give me that food." Meanwhile, I'm doubled over in laughter.<br />
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<b>August 22 2009</b> - omy ... I'm dyin! RP took a notebook and opened it up. He drew a roughly circular shape on one page and a larger roughly circular shape on the other (facing) page. Then he says "Wait a minute ... this is the little head and this is the big head". I started rolling and my hubby whacked me in the knee.<br />
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<b>September 7 2009</b> - I want to know where Little Man gets his ideas. "I want to do the nekkid polka. I can't do it in underwear. I want my winkie out so I can do it."<br />
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<b>September 25 2009</b> - LM is bouncing off the walls and telling ME to "be quiet so I can concentrate". Then he went and got a squooshy toy and hands it to me and says "You play with this, it's quiet.". OMG - sometimes even through everything he's doing he can be so darn FUNNY!<br />
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<b>September 19 2009</b> - Overheard from the shower:<br />
"I don't want to be wet!"<br />
"Well, I don't want to be bald!"<br />
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<b>October 2, 2009</b> - If you go to feed your cats and have to call out "RP, what did you do with the kitty dishes?" You MIGHT have a toddler/pre-schooler.<br />
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<b>October 11, 2009</b> - overheard from the bath room: "I don't want to get back in. I just want MY SKIN. Can I come out now?" To which hubby replied: "Not without your skin!"<br />
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<b>November 30 2009 </b>- Conversations with a 3 yo - the continuing series.<br />
LM "Mommy, what are you doing with that paper?"<br />
Me "I'm going to sand your new step-stool to make it smooth."<br />
LM (throwing himself across the stool) "NO!! I don't want it smooth!! I want it ROUGH!!"<br />
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<b>December 10 2009</b> - I was going potty when I heard a weird sound. I look out the door to see LM tugging his quilt down the hall. I asked him what he was doing. "Don't worry, Mommy. I'm just taking this out so I can live in it in the Living Room."<br />
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<b>December 17 2009</b> - Never ask a 3 yo a question unless you want an honest answer! (ACTUAL conversation)<br />
"Mommy, what did you do today?"<br />
"I went and got medicine. What did YOU do today, sweetie?"<br />
"I played with my winkie." <br />
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<b>January 12, 2010</b> - I have no idea what LM is up to. He has a foam 2" paintbrush and some marshmallows. OMG - he's trying to ROAST THEM on the baseboard heater! I just rescued one and here he comes with a FORK!!!<br />
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<b>January 30, 2010</b> - In changing LM's pull-up we had this conversation: Me " AAAUUUGGHHH!" LM " Don't worry Mommy, it's just a winkie. It doesn't talk." I then proceeded to ROFL<br />
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<b>February 28 2010</b> - Life with a 3 yo: I heard much crying coming from the hall bath and angry tones from Patrick. Finally, I heard Patrick tell the LM to go see Mommy about "it". LM came over to the desk in the LR crying ... with his padded Elmo potty seat around his neck! I forgot to take a picture, but instead removed it after 3 or 4 attempts and kissed his ears since they got scraped.<br />
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<b>March 5 2010</b> - LM brought me a container of coffee creamer. I told him that the pot is empty and he asked me if we have any more "coffee seeds" in the house. I told him yes, so he FORCED me to make a fresh pot of coffee.<br />
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<b>April 9 2010 </b>- I told LM he was sweet and smart and strong and then asked him what else? He said "and funny?" So I agreed and funny then I asked what else? He said "and fashionable?" Um ... ok. That came out of LEFT FIELD. WTH has he heard the word FASHIONABLE?<br />
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<b>April 25, 2010</b> - I asked LM if he was handsome and he said yes. Then I asked him why he was handsome ... "Because you are beautiful, Mommy." I ♥ my little guy!<br />
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<b>June 16 2010</b> - Conversations with a 3 yo continued ....<br />
Me - "Why are you nekkid?"<br />
LM - "I don't know!!!"<br />
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<b>August 20 2010</b> - LM quote of the day (as I hand him some underwear and shorts) "Aww ... why do I have to wear clothes?"<br />
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<b>August 21, 2010</b> - You gotta love pre-schoolers!<br />
Me: "RP, that truck does not belong in the chair (recliner, where Daddy was sitting). Put that truck down."<br />
RP: "Never"<br />
Me: "RP, put that truck down"<br />
RP: "Ne-verrrrrr"<br />
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<b>September 17, 2010</b> - "Mommy, my head itches."<br />
"Oh, no!"<br />
"Why did you say Oh No, Mommy?"<br />
"We'll have to take off that head and put another one on!"<br />
"But then I'll BWEEEED! Can't we use head-paste instead?"<br />
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<b>September 23 2010</b> - Me: Are you a person?<br />
LM: No. I'm a boy. Only girls are people.<br />
Me: Are you a human being?<br />
LM: No. I'm a BOY. ...<br />
LM: Daddy is the same boy as I.<br />
Me: I don't think so ... I think Daddy is his own boy.<br />
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<b>December 16, 2010</b> - Um, I found out LM decided to go "commando" today. *shrugs* Oh, well.<br />
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<b>February 10 2011</b> - I was making a hot dog for RP and asked him which bun he wanted - a hotdog bun or a steak samwich bun. He told me "Size doesn't matter, it's what's on the inside that counts." Uh ... I told him to remember that for later in his life just in case he meets a mean girl.<br />
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<b>February 14 2011 </b>- Conversations with a 4 year old continued:<br />
RP - "My winkie thinks it's time to watch come TV."<br />
Uh ... I didn't know that thinking with that body part startd THIS young!<br />
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<b>May 10 2011</b> - Aine got a hold of a sugar Easter Egg that Grammy sent to RP. I took it away from her and said "Aine, you don't need a sugar egg." RP then said to me "Does she have DIABETES?"<br />
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<b>May 20 2011</b> - LM just slipped a "Boots" ring from a cupcake onto my finger and said "With this ring, I thee wed." <br />
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<b>June 19 2011</b> - Patrick just told me "You know, it's strange when your 4 yo asks you how your penis is doing this morning." Uh ... um ... RP asks the STRANGEST questions sometimes.<br />
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<b>September 13 2011</b> - RP is perusing the Think Geek catalog. He has already pointed out the giant Angry Bird plush, the r/c tank, a sword on the back cover (that they DON'T SELL) ... My wee geek! Gotta love him!<br />
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<b>September 28 2011</b> - RP decided to wash the evening's dishes. He missed a cup that had had milk in it so I grabbed it, rinsed it out & put it in the sink to wash after we put him to bed. He told me "no, I'll wash it. You just sit back and relax." ♥ ♥ ♥<br />
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<b>Dec 20 2011</b> - Conversations with a 5 yo (after calling Grandma's phone and getting her answering machine)</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">RP - "It says Grandma's not available, but I know she's there - her car is there."</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Me - "Well, honey - maybe Grandma's taking a nap. Or maybe someone came and picked her up and took her somewhere."</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">RP - "Maybe she was kidnapped!"</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-12904558687041275942011-12-17T10:26:00.000-05:002011-12-17T10:26:41.878-05:00The Never-Ending Present PileAs I slowly wrap the Yule gifts for our family, I am struck by the fact that the pile is growing and growing. It already is fairly respectable for a family of 3 ... and I am not even halfway done. I still have most of RP's gifts to wrap yet and a few of Patrick's as well.<br />
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Have I mentioned yet that one of the reasons I love being a "store" owner is the resources I have for creative gift wrapping? I love going to my supplier's website to see what the latest holiday wrapping paper looks like. The cost per roll is "high" ... but each roll that I buy is <b><i>100</i> FEET</b> of paper so when you get down to how much people spend per roll of comparable paper ... it really is more cost-effective. The average roll of paper is only about 20 - 30 feet so I get more than 3 commercial rolls' worth of paper - and since I like the holographic paper (which usually comes in 15 foot rolls and is more expensive) it works out to more than FIVE rolls' worth of paper on each of my rolls.<br />
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Is it true that I only have a WEEK to get everything wrapped and then all my work will be destroyed in just a few days' time? Whew! I'm having a bit of a hard time getting into the spirit of the holidays right now. I'm just too tired and feeling a bit blue and anxious all at the same time. My little guy is keeping life interesting right now - notice that Woody from Toy Story is visiting the Yule village. I have no idea how he thinks he can fit into any of those houses ... though maybe he's there to help maintain the light in our lighthouse.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1107272329263899126.post-6168363722510237832011-12-16T11:03:00.000-05:002011-12-16T11:03:08.698-05:00This Holiday SeasonOur Yule tree is up and dressed. It has 300 LED lights, silver tinsel garland (since I have a cat who loves eating string), glass ball ornaments, White House ornaments (compliments of Dad) and Swarovski crystal ornaments plus the ubiquitous candy canes. RP and I got it all pretty a couple of days ago, but now the ornaments are on the move.<br />
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Aine is probably the main reason for this migration. Her tail gets going and knocks the ornaments off and onto the ground. RP's solution is to pick the ornaments up and replace them on the tree at a higher location - preferably one that involves him standing on his activity table and reaching across the distance to try to place it as high as he can. Need I mention that this puts him off balance and strikes fear in the hearts of protective mothers everywhere? He is so anxious to grow up (or at least get taller) ... but weren't we all striving to "get older" so we could do more things - until we actually grew up and realized how much responsibility went with growing up?<br />
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We also have a Holiday village comprised of 13 porcelain buildings that light up plus one that doesn't, oodles of cordage (2 6-light cords, one single light cord and an extension cord with an on/off button) and a white flannel sheet to act as "snow" and provide cover for the tangle of cords. It has had a fighter jet land in the middle of town, has matchbox cars come in for visits, had an LED "searchlight" (finger LED light) added to the roofline, had "Happy Meal" toys come calling and may eventually have a gigantic kitty marauding through town terrorizing the villagers. Granted, it has no trees or people outside - the giant mutant kitties have a habit of running off with the trees and people so they are safely tucked "inside". I have tried explaining that the village is not a toy, to no avail. All I can do is watch carefully to make sure that nothing actually gets broken.<br />
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Another trend this holiday season is RP trying to "ride" Aine. He doesn't actually expect her to walk around with him on her back, but if she is sitting or lying down he hops on and just sits on her. If I <b>needed</b> a demonstration of just how GOOD my puppy is, this would fit the bill. She rarely complains about it, just gives me long-suffering looks (she has to have practiced these while I've been busy or asleep) and tolerates the 46 lb jockey. This leads of course to me saying "RP, <i>get off the dog</i>!" or "RP, you can not ride the dog".<br />
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Actually, I think that I am very lucky in the animals that own us. We have a real tree and have yet to extract a cat from it ... this being Micah's first Yule with us we were a little worried about that - Dylan has NEVER tried to climb a Yule tree in his 9 years of life. The tree has never been knocked down - even by the 5 year old human animal I gave birth to. In fact, the only Yuletide funny business has been disappearing village trees and people in the past.<br />
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I have all the presents purchased for the variety of holidays my family celebrates - Yule, Christmas, Solstice. They aren't quite all wrapped yet ... I need to get the energy to sit down and do it. I enjoy wrapping gifts ... choosing the paper and which stick-on bow plus the tags makes it a creative experience. I love watching the faces of my family as they open their gifts - it's a very rewarding experience. I have found myself getting more into receiving gifts as the years have gone by. Maybe it comes from a better self-esteem which allows me to feel worthy of gifts.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17005357696698587725noreply@blogger.com0