nintendo, why do you not ship enough product?

go into the stores. Just, go. Walk thee into any electronics section and have a looksie. What you'll find is xbox and playstation out the wazoo. What is missing? Nintendo products. I'm not looking for the Wii that everyone else was on the hunt for. No, I need a DS lite. Why now 2 weeks after Christmas can I NOT FIND A STINKIN' DS LITE? Why, Nintendo?? Why?? No one can answer that for me, and the geek at GameStop had the audacity to laugh in my face when I asked if they had any in stock. Then I shot him with the semi-automatic I keep in the minivan for just such an instance. You know, when a pimple-faced 19 yr old makes fun of my stupidity. He had it coming. Asshat. Really, I just thanked him politely for his complete lack of help and wished him luck getting a 'real job' someday.

The people at Nintendo have been on my personal shitlist since the first time Justin's gameboy broke and they charged an outrageous $75 to fix an game that only cost $120 to begin with. I thought that was the charge because he had broken the screen. Nope. This time something minor is broken and I find out that $75 is the STANDARD repair charge. So now they want me to pay a second $75 charge. Meaning, if I've done my math correctly, I've paid more for it to be repaired than I paid for it initially. How's that for a side dish of ironic? One of the things on Justin's wish list to Santa was "something to fix my broken DS" Awww...pull at mama's heartstrings. So we decided to just get a new one. Only it was a week before Christmas and we didn't have the spare budget to fork out the cash for it right then. Santa left Justin a new charger for his old Gameboy SP (his mysteriously has disappeared several times) and a note telling him he had taken the DS to the workshop to see if the elves could fix it and that he'd send it back in a week or 2 (coincidentally pay day time) and that hopefully he could charge up the old SP and that would keep him happy in the meantime.

So...fast forward to today. Payday!! I'm going to buzz over to Target and get a nice latte and a new DS. Only they're out of stock. So I take my delicious latte, hop back in the van and go next door to Meijer. Nope out of stock. Only a little deterred, I sip my latte on the way to WalMart. Again, denied. I then think to try GameStop. Which is when I got made fun of and began to think there maybe, just maybe, would be a little problem getting my hands on a DS today. Or any day soon. I came home and began making phone calls. People, they are sold out everywhere within a 30 mile radius of my house. WTF? This is not the "in" toy this year. Why can't I find one? I finally found a WalMart 30 min from my house that had a few in stock. They wouldn't hold one for me so I jumped right skippy into my van and drove (minus the latte this time). When I got there a different pimple faced boy told me they had just sold the last one. He was lucky that I had to park really far away and it was too cold to walk to the van to retrieve the semi automatic. I was a smidge on the angry side.

So, Nintendo. I must ask you...why do you make fun toys that everyone wants, but not enough of them? Why do you mock me with shelves full of pink DS and nary a black, red, or white one in sight? Why?? WHY??

true confessions...

it has been 4 months since my last official weigh in.
I haven't exercised regularly in almost that long.
I have gained ___ pounds. I can't say it outloud. Don't try twisting my arm. I won't say it.
I did 45 min on the the elliptical today and it about killed me.
But it didn't.
My ass is SO back on the wagon even though it's so big it barely fits up here.
Holidays are a bitch on my waistline.

buh-bye 2007...

is it just me or was 2007 the fastest year EVER?? I seriously do not believe that I have to write 2008 on stuff already. One of my family members said aloud yesterday to anyone who was listening (I think just me) "hopefully 2008 will be better because 2007 sucked". It gave me pause because my own personal 2007 wasn't all that bad. It was pretty good. I made some new friends. Settled into a new house that I love- leaky pipes and all. Got to spend more time with my family- psychotic behavior and all. Got to spend more time laughing with my oldest (not in years, just in time) and dearest friend than I have in years. Continued to laugh my ass off with my oldest (in years- sorry Carol) and bestest friend. Laughed at my husband (not that this is unusual, just seems like I laughed at and with him more often).

There was a little bad here and there thrown in, but if it was all good people would start questioning my vodka/tequila consumption.

When asked for my resolutions I snort. No, seriously. I literally snort. I don't DO resolutions. I suck at them. I want to get back on track with my weight loss but that has less to do with a new year than it does with the holidays being over and me being less likely to encounter trays of cookies at every destination. I guess if pushed I would say that I resolve to start running this year. I want to run the 5k that I usually walk in the Race For The Cure this summer. However I have been saying for 2 years now that I am going to do that, so is this THE year? I dunno. Maybe. No really, trust me. I suck at resolutions. I could resolve to say NO more often, but puh-lease. Who would I be if not everyone's 'yes girl'? It is not a resolution I can even say with a straight face. So I guess I resolve to make no resolutions and just try to keep laughing at myself and those who I love and hold dear. Sounds good for 2008. Cheers!

sick and twisted are we...

so there is a lot that my mom, sister, and i don't see eye to eye on. I **think** I may have mentioned something about it in my last post. HOWEVER, we are each as sick and twisted as the other. We went on a girly date yesterday and took my grandma to a movie. She loves Johnny Depp (yes, my grandma has a 'thing' for Johnny Depp. He's even hot to the grandma set) so of course we chose Sweeney Todd. I gave them all a heads up on the story line, because if you aren't prepared for it, gory doesn't begin to describe the plot. My grandma is who made me the horror movie lovin' girl I am today and hello?? Johnny Depp?? So, I wasn't at all worried about her. I was a little worried about my mom. She's not a big fan of gore. I shouldn't have been concerned. Her inappropriate sense of humor outweighed her gross-out level. We were knee slapping the whole way through the movie and cackling like hens. The teeny-boppers in front of us were HORRIFIED at what was happening on screen. We thought it was hysterical. So I guess we do have something in common. Cannibalism can be funny. To us. And Tim Burton.

christmas mission statement...

so this was THE YEAR for our family. The year where you decide the stress of trying to have a fun family-lovin' get together is neither fun nor family lovin'. This is the year that all of my "issues" came to a head and I have officially hit my personal limit. My family can continue going down the path they have chosen. Without me. I will, from now on, not participate in opening gifts around my siblings. I will stay home and enjoy my family, my kids, my husband. These are the things that bring me joy. Watching my siblings open the gifts my parents lavish them with is like pouring salt in all of my open wounds. I can't much talk about it without sounding like an ungrateful brat. My parents buy me nice things too, don't get me wrong. I appreciate all they do for me. Just in comparison...well there is no comparison. I apologize to everyone who has had to listen to me rant this week. It has been an ugly week for me. Now I have come to understand that I have to take control of my own life, my own family and not let anyone else spoil what should be a fun holiday.
I love my parents and sibs to pieces. I know that we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. I think that's pretty normal. I just have to let a lot of stuff go. Stuff that has been clouding my vision of who I am for too many years now. How I am going to do it is a mystery to me, but I gotta do it.
There...wasn't that fun? I sort of feel like Tom Cruise in Jerry McGuire. I'll just bag up my fish and go now.

your holiday laugh...

because everyone is maxed-out, tired, stressed, cranky, and more. You need to laugh today. NEED it. Trust me. I'm offering to you the one thing that makes me laugh like a loon no matter how many times I see it. If Pete Schweddy and his balls don't make you laugh, there is something wrong with you. Go to the doctor today. No seriously. Go.

do you hear them calling???

so we spent most of saturday watching the snow fall and baking cookies and other christmas goodies. Now I have all of my teachers goodies done and the frames to go with them. This is FABULOUS! What is NOT fabulous? The fact that I have lots and lots of extra goodies. Chocolate covered pretzels and all of my favorite Christmas cookies called out to me all day yesterday. Since I am not one to ignore the pleas of a good cookie...well... I ate a lot of cookies yesterday. It's scary what a chocolate covered pretzel does to my will power. It obliterates it. Leaving nothing but a whisper of a memory of a will power.
But damn...cover a pretzel in chocolate and drizzle it with toffee chips. A word of warning: it might just become your new best friend. Consider yourself warned :)

send me the therapy bills...

i remember many years ago, reading a book that had a chapter in it that pissed me right off. It was a parenting book and they have a tendency to piss me right off in sections, because they spout "the best way" to parent and I just don't think there is a best way. Anyway...this particular chapter was on the the PROPER age spacing between children. I was pregnant at the time with Miss H and Justin was a wee infant. The chapter talked about how unfair it was to have children less than 2 years spaced because the older child misses out on so much one on one time with his/her parents. In my brain at the time I was all "WTF!!" I mean, the 2nd and subsequent kids never experience true one on one time, so does that mean they're never going to be truly happy either? And also...I feared I had destroyed Justin's chance at happiness because "whoops... we got pregnant this time a little earlier than we planned" it took us forever to conceive Justin so when we got pregnant after a mere longing glance at each other from across the room (it may have been a little more than that, but not much) it was a bit of a shock. The accident that is now my one and only girl child, put our 1st two children at a little more than an 18 month apart spacing. So you can understand my WTF response to the notion that I was destroying my son's happiness by giving him a sibling 6 mo earlier than the experts suggest. I was already putting money aside for his therapy later. OK..not really... but I wanted to. Fast forward 6 or so years. Yesterday while the older 2 were at school and I had Ry at home with me, we were snuggling on the couch watching a movie. As I lay there content with him in my arms it occurred to me that I never got to do that with the other 2. I always had a younger child underfoot. There has never been a time until now that I could have spur of the moment, unscheduled, one on one time with one of my kids- well not since Justin was 18 mo old. I don't really think it has caused them to be mentally unbalanced. Well...maybe a little, but no more than the average mentally unbalanced child. It just made me realize that I need to carve out time for each of them on their own. And be thankful for the 30 min or so that I can sometimes get Ry to stop being a whirlwind and just sit under a blanket with me and watch part of a movie.

bitter is the soup of the day...

i hate my spot as the oldest, responsible child in my family. No really. I. HATE. it. My family is going (for the second year in a row) to the National Championship football game this Jan. 7 to watch the Buckeyes play. My whole family. Oh. Except... not me. Because really, who would stay and take care of the dogs? Actually my sister is also not going, but only because she has to be back to Boston for classes before it's over. Otherwise FOR SURE she'd have gotten a ticket. But I'm not bitter. No, seriously.

the curse of the cosmo...

so matt's company christmas party was last night. And they decided to do an open bar this year. I was all "Wheeeeee!! Belly up to the bar!! Order me something delicious!" So was Matt's co-worker's wife. Quite a pair we were. Then later I lost her. Only to find out later she was very sick. Not to be deterred by her inability to hold liquor, I was all "Wheee!! I'll have another Cosmo!!" Only it was my 4th Cosmo. And they were mixing them suckers strong. Needless to say there are whole pieces of last night that are missing from my memory. Matt promises I never made a fool out of myself. He won't promise that he didn't take advantage of my weakened condition. Bastard. What I learned from this experience?

1. Just because top shelf alcohol is being offered free of charge, you don't have to drink it. All.
2. A Cosmo is really nothing more than a giant vodka with a splash of cranberry juice.
3. 4 Cosmos? Not a good idea.
4. The porcelain gods are still not good to me.
5. I don't know how I survived college.

Because....I didn't crawl out of bed until 11 am today. Well unless you count the 5 times I ran to puke my guts out. I will NEVER touch a Cosmo again and just the thought of cranberry juice makes me queasy today.
But P.S... I looked really cute last night. I think. I don't really remember much.

this makes me want a do-over on our 1st dance...

maybe for our 25th anniversary we can renew our vows???

how could you???

i am in hair misery right now. My hair is well... miserable. I have neglected it for entirely too long. I hate that I do that to my hair. It just happens. It grows out into a ponytail and without realizing it I become "ponytail girl" who never does anything resembling style. Unless you still think scrunchies are the rage. I do not.
I am just at the trust point with my new hair dude (this is my first hair 'dude' and I ADORE him) where I was going to go in and say to him "Drew, if you could do anything you wanted to with my head, what would it be?" and then I was going to LET HIM DO IT. I called to schedule an appointment this week before Matt's company Christmas party and **GASP** Drew is no longer with us. WHAT??!!?? Where has he gone? Why didn't he call me? How could he? Apparently he wasn't allowed to call me and tell me. I am in mourning over this. I now have to turn my head over to a complete stranger the day before the party and hope I don't come away looking like Dudley Moore. Or go to the party with a festive scrunchie. Neither is an alternative that makes me happy.

things i managed to accomplish today...

1. telling my mother i would NOT help her with her christmas decorating.
2. telling her again.
3. and then one more time because 2 solid NOs are never, ever enough for my mama.
4. ordered my Christmas cards
5. re-ordered family pics because I grossly underestimated their cuteness.
6. tackled laundry- actually washed, dried, and put away most of it. Most of it.
7. looked at cowboy ass.
8. wished I was born in OOOOOOklahoma (where the winds come sweeping down the plains) (and there are cowboys aplenty)
9. took picture retake money to my first born at school.
10. could not curse first born for forgetting to take it with him today, since the reason he needed retakes on said pictures is because his ever-lovin' mama forgot to put his picture envelope in his backpack the first time around.
11. ****sigh**** cowboys. Just once more. Or twice. But not a third time. Well maybe a third. Or fourth. But that's all!!
12. stripped the sheets on the girl child's bed. Hoping this helps kill the flu bug that is following her around these days.
13. noticed grimy toilets.
14. did nothing but ignore them and put them off for another day.

Can you say excitement? I know my life lacks passion on most days. Not today, though! Did I mention the cowboys??

bringing crazy back...

that about sums up what this weekend has been. I had in mind a nice relaxing weekend. Silly me. Matt was off work Wed. thru Sun. so I thought we'd get some stuff done and have time to vegitate. Not so much. Hannah was sick Mon- Wed. Ryan was sick Thurs- Sat. Hannah started puking again on Sun. morning and we're still dealing with that. This weekend was a lot of: you go visit with your family, I'll stay with the sick chiclet. Then we'll switch. Fun! Family togetherness! Relaxation! NOT. My house is a pit of destruction that smells vaguely of vomit and I don't have lick of energy to fix it.
I got a little Christmas shopping done on Sat (the one day that no one had a fever or ookie stomach) but when I got home and looked at the loot it became all too clear how much I actually have left to do. This week the calendar flips to DECEMBER. Can I get a YIKES??
I also came to the realization this weekend that there are some people who you cannot possibly make happy. And also those same people will never like you the way you want them to. This was a hard realization for me because I am one of those personalities that craves for everyone to like me. Oh well. I just have to live with it. Or at least try to. And now I can relax. Instead of always being on guard and not acting like...well...acting like me. I'm just going to be myself because what difference does it make at this point? I've tried every other possible me-ness and none of my fun personalities has been pleasing to said people/person.
Family time can be oh-so fun.

wear something stretchy...

and eat up!!!

Happy Thanksgiving from our corner of the world :)

go with a smile and wear armor...

i decided to brave the grocery store this morning for the turkey day fixins i need. It's the Tuesday before turkey day and people are already rude and nasty. I just can't figure it out. It wasn't busy, so there wasn't any of that cart jockeying in the aisles to get to the spot you need. People are just grouchy. In my opinion, if going to the store to get your turkey fixins causes you to be a sourpuss, you should not go. Easier said than done, right? I know. I didn't WANT to go. I went out of necessity, but I also plastered on a smile and tried to be cheerful. There's a Starbucks in the store for crying out loud! Get happy over a gingerbread latte!
I had so many people who rolled their eyes and huffed away because I had the AUDACITY to forget my x-ray glasses so that I could see them coming as I came out of an aisle. It wasn't like I pushed on ahead. I stopped, let them cross, smiled and said "OOPS! Sorry." When a cranky old lady rolled her eyes at me, I added on a "Happy Holidays!" just because I knew it would piss her off. Cause I'm sweet like that.
This is why I'd rather be strung up by my toenails than shop the day after Thanksgiving. There are just some nasty, crabby people in this world. Not even a full-fat gingerbread latte can make shopping with hordes of cranky and greedy Grinches do-able.

no good title for this one...

it's been a rough week around these parts. One of those weeks where you find yourself mumbling "this just sucks" under your breath. A lot. I tried to find humor in little things this weekend, but it was tough. My very good friend Marsha lost her miracle baby last week. Little miracle Marissa, who blessed our world for 3 short months. Her funeral was last Friday and it was by far the worst thing I have ever been through. The worst part was knowing it was so gut wrenching for me and I wasn't Marissa's mommy. What Marsha is going through now, cannot even be imagined by me. I do know that Marissa is in heaven with her grandma. And her grandma is spoiling her rotten. In fact, Marsha's dad said to me at one point, Carol is running up some extreme credit card bills in heaven. Thankfully those suckers don't have to be paid back. We smiled about it. Smiled, during a day where there was so very little to smile about.
After everything was over and everyone had gone home, Marsha, me, and our good friend Elizabeth sat around with a fabulous BOX of wine. We drank and talked and laughed and cried. It was therapeutic for me and I hope it helped Marsha in some way. My heart is broken for her, but I know God will bless her with a child someday. She is destined to be the world's greatest mommy. I have known that to be a fact during the entire 15 years that I have known her.
I know the next days, weeks, months, are going to be the worst for Marsha and family. I hope if she pops on here and finds this post she knows I love her and I am sending her hugs in my head all day, every day.
I am ever so thankful that I was able to come home and hug the pieces out of my 3 chiclets. You sometimes forget how blessed you are in the day to day nose wipings, butt wipings, battle breaking-ups, etc. Marissa now reminds me daily how very blessed I am and I thank her for it. And also we have photographic proof that she was pissed off at the Buckeyes for losing to Illinois. She really was a cool kid. Even if it was for a brief time.
We love you and miss you sweet Marissa.

clark griswold revisited...

it was once again, not so much a winning pinewood derby day for justin and his golden silver shark car.
It was also once again a day where I could sit back and watch the psychotic parents wanting THEIR cars to finish first. The kids of said parents were running around the gym not watching or even caring about their cars. The dads watched with intensity, critiquing the way the cars ran on the 2 different tracks. It was, quite frankly, obnoxious. I guess for some people this is the highlight of their year. Building a car for their child and watching it run, hoping their kid scores a trophy on a car they didn't spend 1/2 a minute working on or even thinking about.
Matt & Justin plan to get reinforcements next year. He's hoping for the car the rivals Clark Griswold's experimentally lubed up sled in Christmas Vacation. The type of car the zips off the track, and runs clean through the bleachers, lockers, and few classrooms, and into the cafeteria down the hall. I fear Matt will be the freakish dad watching the cars run down the tracks and sweating over a dorky trophy.

pinewood derby....

in other news, today is justin's pinewood derby race. Since he lost miserably in every heat last year, he and Matt decided to try a different route this time. The car looks the same, but the weights are in a different place. Also the wheels got graphite this year. Matt refused to do anything "extra", like graphite, last year. He wanted to win the old-fashioned way. HA. Did you catch that whole lost miserably section earlier?
One other thing he did? He glued the axles in. The wheels fell off after the race last year, so he figured a little glue would do the trick. A little glue would've been perfect. He used gorilla glue. It expands. Are you starting to form a picture of what happens when you put expanding glue on an axle, really close to a wheel? Yep..he pretty much glued the wheels to the axle. Oh yeah...that baby is going to fly down the ramp. Or maybe it'll just sit there at the top because the wheels are unable to turn. And of course everything gets done at the 11th hour in this house so Matt was pulling off the wheels and trying to drill the glue off 15 minutes before weigh in time. Never a dull moment. It's an entertaining looking car anyway. It's painted shiny bright gold. Justin picked shark stickers. The stickers that also had the cool "Silver Shark" label for the hood. So his shiny gold car is called the Silver Shark. Keep 'em guessing. That's our motto.
Race results will be posted tomorrow.

take it back....

when i said bring it on, i shoulda been more specific. By "it" I meant wine (not whine), sunshine, happy comments, a tasty yet fat-free and thus guiltless dessert, something fun, something to make me laugh.... anything but what I got.
What I got? Oh... a teacher that has pegged my son as a problem child. He's a pain in the ass, but not a trouble-maker by any stretch of my (or anyone else's) imagination. I also got a girl child screaming in the middle of the night about her painful (and now goopy and pink) eye. Thanks to the gods of pink eye, our home is infested with whatever creepy-crawly germs cause the dreaded pink eye. **cringe** **hork**
So to whomever I provoked with my former statement "bring it on", I beg of you to TAKE IT BACK!! And next time you bring it on?? Bring more wine. I really needed it to survive this pissy week. Thanks in advance.

bring it on...

it's been one of those days. More like one of those weeks, but I don't like to whine. I could hardly type that with a straight face.
You know how it is when you clean like a crazy woman and then you turn a corner and realize your house is STILL A COMPLETE PIGSTY? Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Oh and, add to that, pink eye. In both my child and the teenage girl who was supposed to babysit tonight during the 8:40 **PM** conference that I must attend with my girl child's teacher. I believe the 2 instances of pink eye to be unrelated but each puts a special and significant kink in my week. Add to THAT the normal day to day splitting up arguments between children who are never, ever wrong, finding socks that were taken off in 2 different rooms (and we wonder why there are no matches) trying desperately to find mittens and gloves that match because this week Mother Nature decided to turn all winter and shit on us, and let's not forget that 8:40 **PM** conference. I was told to list my 3 choices. I listed 2 times around **6** pm and one time that was in the middle of the day tomorrow. Somehow out of those 3 choices, I was given the obvious one. The one that is the last conference of the day. The day where the teacher has been in conferences since 11 **AM**. Oh, yeah. That's going to be an effective conference.
But I don't like to whine. Really, I don't.

my husband is a genius...

he taught me how to link. It is with joy that I can link you back to this post, or this post, or my personal favorite- this post. Or if I want to embarrass myself again I could link to this post.
If you wanted to buy me a Christmas present, you could look here, or anywhere here.
You want my favorite cookie recipe? Right here it is. Although I personally delete the walnuts. I also found using Heath chips is a fabulous substitution for chocolate chips. You're welcome. What about my nightmare? Right here it is. Wanna see the cool artist I found at a craft show yesterday? Here she is!
How fun is this???? If I had asked him a thousand years ago I could have done this way back then. He gave me the "duh...you don't know how to do that?" look when I asked him about it. Whatever, I never claimed to be a computer geek :)

step away from the seeds...

is it wrong that i want to grow a pumpkin patch next year? OK, but is it wrong if I only want to do it so I can hatchet them open and remove their seeds for roasting? Because, I do **so** love me some pumpkin seeds. In fact there is only one downside to the puking punkin' (also stolen from Janet) (notice a pattern?) (feel free to ask me if I have an original idea floating in my head) (I'll have to ask Janet and get back to you)




it is of course the BLATANT waste and misuse of pumpkin seeds. I have an addiction that only gets fed at the end of October every year. And don't EVEN tell me to try to ones in the grocery store. Not even close.



Happy Halloween!!

color my world...

theiving again from janet. I did it just out of curiousity. Not only is it an accurate description of my me-ness, it's also one of my favorite colors! Go figure!

Click on the link at the bottom and try it your ownself!

you are orchid #DA70D6

Your dominant hues are red and blue. You're confident and like showing people new ideas. You play well with others and can be very influential if you want to be. Your saturation level is lower than average - You don't stress out over things and don't understand people who do. Finishing projects may sometimes be a challenge, but you schedule time as you see fit and the important things all happen in the end, even if not everyone sees your grand master plan. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

i no speaka you language...

i had a light bulb moment this weekend. I was at a mommy-type conference that has tons of great workshops on how to parent. I needed it. I lack parenting skills right now. When I signed up for the conference months ago I noticed they also had a workshop of 'Redefining romance after children'. I signed up for it, not because my sex life sucks, but because after 12+ yrs, who can't use a little re-definition? During the workshop she talked about all the different love languages there are (there are 5 different ones) and how if you don't recognize your own and that of your husband, you're in for disappointment. She started talking about one of her daughters being a "gift-giver". Not meaning that so much that she wants to receive gifts in order to feel loved, but that is how she shows her love. This sort of sounds like buying love at first but then she explained it more or less means when she gives a gift it is her way of saying "I was thinking of you while I was out". To her daughter, that is like saying "I love you" and when she doesn't get the same from other people she gets miffed. LIGHT BULBS GOING OFF. That is SO ME! I absolutely love giving gifts. I am always picking up little things here and there for my mom, for my friends, etc. My feelings get hurt easily though if say...my mom buys a super cute coffee mug somewhere and doesn't get me one. Sounds sort of spoiled rotten-ish, but in my mind I am thinking, "geez, I'd have picked her up a mug if I saw it. I can't believe she didn't think of me!" Believe it or not, I never recognized this about myself. I helps to know that everyone in your life has a different language and to know what it is. I got a lot of other stuff out of that particular workshop, but when it was over I made myself sit down and figure out what each of my kids is, and what Matt is. It really shines a light on a lot of things when you look at it like that. Matt is someone who shows love by touch. This is usually a sticking point for us because, when I am dealing with him, touch often = sex. Plus, since I am home all day with my kids many days are spent with one or more chiclets touching me all day. I can say with 100% certainty that my love language is NOT touch. Sometimes Matt will hug me and I just shake him off. Like if one more person touches me, I'm going to blow. Knowing now that he shows love through touch (and not every touch=sex in his brain) I know now that I need to be a lot more forgiving about it.
I know it sort of sounds a lot like new-age bullshit at first but just think about it.
What are you? What is your husband? Your kids? This is from my notes so it is probably explained better elsewhere. I was told that there is a book on these called Love Languages.
- acts of service (doing good deeds for others)
- words of encouragement
- gift giving
- quality time
- physical touch and closeness- not necessarily sexual.

Just some food for thought :)

new look...

thanks to the almighty and powerful janet...i have a real blog banner!!
How exciting!!!
Back to your regularly scheduled lives.
Oh and **JEN** listen up...
NO CHASING DOGS. SIT DOWN. OR ELSE.

making a dent...

the other day, one of my neighbors made a bizarre comment to me. I had instructed one of my kids to throw their empty pop (soda, whatever) can into the recycle bin in the garage. My neighbor looked at me and asked why we bothered. I'll admit, when we first started recycling, it was because we had to. In Michigan, everyone does it. It isn't like jumping off a bridge because everyone else does it, it's environmentally friendly, and not so hard once you start. And who wants to be the only bozo on the street without a heaping full recycling bin every week? Not me. After spending 6 years in the state up North, we recycle more now out of habit than obligation. Not that we are fantastic about it, but we always fill our collection bin weekly.
Anyway, back to my neighbor. I explained to her that we got into the habit and now it's second-nature for us. I also told her she'd be shocked at how much room it saves in the trash bags. The 4-5 gallons of milk we drink a week take up a lot of space in the trash bags, but crunch down nicely in the recycling bins. She just laughed and said it seems silly. Like my little pile of recyclables are going to make a dent in the overall trash consumption. I was, at that point, almost cross-eyed over her logic but figured there are some people you just can't figure out. Of the 30+ people on our street, we are one of 4 families that recycles. It's sort of sad. We are now the oddballs. Well...in some ways we always have been :) My neighbor asked if we got some kind of discount on our garbage bill because we recycle. Figuring, I guess, that there could be no other reason to do such an ignorant thing. I told her that no, we do not get a discount, but 30 years from now when we are tripping over pop (soda, whatever) cans in the city parks, I'll feel better knowing it isn't MY PERSONAL pop (soda, whatever) can. Mine all got recycled.

fun with global warming....

we are harvesting tomatoes today. Yes, you read that correctly. We are barely a week away from Halloween and we can still grab cherry tomatoes ripe from the vine. Global warming doesn't HAVE to suck. It can be a little fun. I guess.
It will probably be snowing next week for trick-or-treat. And we'll be questioning whether the globe actually is getting warmer or if it's just a big cosmic joke. Welcome to the Midwest.

the girl child turns six...

i cannot wrap my head around the fact that my middle child turned six today. I know I say it every time a child has a milestone in my world, but ACK (!!) where has the time gone???

Hannah is the child who I butt heads with the most. Surprise!! She is my only daughter and my reincarnation (according to my mother). She talks too much. She is dramatic beyond reason. She rolls her eyes at (dramatic eye roll) **EVERYTHING** ( I don't know where she gets it). She is always right. Her brothers are always wrong and always beating her up. You see how abused she is???

And yes, I know, it only gets worse. My mom will tell anyone who will listen that she despised me from age 12 through 19 or so. It's all good. I was an ass. But I could have been worse. I could have acted like my siblings do now. But this is about Hannah, not me and my issues. What issues??

So, the girl child is six, which half way to 12, which is when my own mother officially despised me. I figure we've only got six more good years, and I feel like all we do now is butt heads. This does not bode well for the years of PMS, eh? Hers, not mine (of course- because I am totally normal when I have PMS. I never turn into a raging lunatic. Never.).

She went to bed tonight a bonefide six year old, but not before telling me she was "almost seven". I started to tell her not to wish away her childhood, but then I stopped. It's a waste of breathe, because we all wish away our childhood. We can't wait to hit the next milestone. The double digits of 10, then teenager-hood at 13, then driving at 16, then LEGAL (to do nothing but vote, get married, and serve in the military) at 18, then actual legality at 21. It's all downhill from there. But it's hard to explain that to a six year old. I see so much of myself in her it's almost painful at times. I love her to pieces and I hope she realizes that. Even though I yell a lot. Because I do yell, a lot. I try not to, but I do. It' s hard to parent a child that you know is eventually going to do the same stupid shit that you did. But I always try to remember she is her own person and that she'll do the same stupid shit, and some stupid shit of her own, and she'll also do some really amazing things. She already has.

Happy birthday to my banana. Hope all your wishes come true...

who screwed up my calendar....

how did october creep up so fast? No really, someone at the bus stop said something about Christmas shopping yesterday and it was all I could do to stop myself from plugging my ears and "lalalalalaican'thearyoulalalalala". Because...Christmas shopping???? I don't think I've even completed school clothes shopping yet. I'm so behiiiiiiind. And yes, I'd like some cheese with that whine.
I sat last weekend thinking I had all the time in the world to get Hannah's birthday invites together and then it hit me like a Mack truck that her birthday is a mere 2 weeks away and the invite clock was already ticking. I had to get those suckers in the mail and wait by the phone for RSVPs to start rolling in. Ha. Not that anyone will RSVP. No one does. Not even sure why I put it on the invite. Just for giggles I guess. But really, it turned into October before I was ready for September to be complete. And from previous experience I know that it will be Halloween in approximately 5 minutes, 10 minutes later it is Thanksgiving, then about 2 minutes after that it's Christmas. CHRISTMAS.
Plugging ears, running around in circles, lalalalalalalalaididn'thearthatlalalalalalala.....

me, me, pick me, i can do it!

the last week of my life will forever be known as "the week in which amy-couldn't-stop-raising-her-hand-and-volunteering-for-shit-she'll-never-have-time-for" Did you get all of that?
The third-fourth weeks of school must be the week that the teachers think we have weeded through all of the paperwork they threw at us the first 2 weeks, and so they can begin asking us for spare time.
I volunteered. And I volunteered. And I volunteered. And then because I was bored, I volunteered some more.
I am now doing about 6 jobs for Justin's school PTO throughout the year, volunteering in Hannah's class bi-weekly, am serving on the board for the preschool, am also the assistant/question answerer during the Monday night dance classes. This is a sampling. There's more. We've previously discussed my lack of ability in the saying "no" department. I obviously lack a time management skill somewhere also. I think I have a problem with sitting still. ADHD anyone? If I am continuously volunteering for something, I'm never just sitting on my hands with nothing to do. Sadly, at least once a week I am spinning in circles trying to figure out how I am going to get it all done. And then my head explodes and I have that to clean that mess up. But, boredom? No, not dealing with that much these days.

all in the name...

totally thieving from janet. I saw this and laughed my ass off :)

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car), John Wayne Uplander- sounds all cool Bon Jovi, yes?

2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie), Coffee Oatmeal Chocolate Chip. It's all good, yo. That's how I roll

3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name), A-MOH Hmmm... I gots to think on that one.

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal), Lavender Manatee. That one is going to make it into the next Stephanie Plum story line. I just KNOW it!

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born), Joy Columbus. Not one you'll be seeing on Days Of Our Lives anytime soon methinks

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first), Moham. I believe that makes me one of the desert sand dwellers that wears a hood??

7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink), The Lime Green Margarita. Oh yes...she's my hero.

8. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers), Robert Jack. But I think he'd be Bobby Jack in the Nascar world.

9. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy), Chance Kit Kat. This would also double as my porn star name I do believe.

10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names ), Joy Lynn. You didn't see me here....

11. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter), Hood Houston. Wasn't he in the Anchorman movie? I'm sure he was Vince Vaughn's character's weatherman.

12. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower). Autumn Lilac. Oh yeah...great spy name. It's Lilac, Autumn Lilac. I'll have my margarita on the rocks. Shaken, but not so hard that the ice melts.

13. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”) Apple Pantsie. I think she was in the collection of recalled Chinese made Mattel dolls.

14. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree), Nothing Buckeye. Groovy man, totally groovy.

15. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”), The Scrapping Rain Tour. Makes me want to go stand in line for tickets right now. This one is SURE to sell out quick-like.

holy filth, batman...

i cleaned the van out today. Some scary shit, I tell ya. I did it because I was out with a friend this weekend who was apologizing PROFUSELY for how filthy her van was. Except my van was way filthier than hers. I figured if she was so horrified about the condition of her van, she would die a thousand deaths if she was ever forced to sit in my van. So I guess that means it's time to clean it out.
Here's a small sampling of what I found:
3 empty french fry bags.
2 empty Happy Meal bags
186 (only a small exaggeration) Happy Meal toys
12 french fries
4 chicken nuggets in various states of decomposition (that's for you Jen)
1 realization that we eat too much McDonald's
8 stuffed animals
3 bags to carry stuffed animals to the van and then leave them there
4 water bottles
5 clean pairs of socks (??? do we keep them in the van???))
2 dirty pairs of socks
3 pairs of Ryan's underwear (clean thankyouverymuch)
9 broken crayons
6098 hot wheels
9 million Pokemon cards
8 books
2 empty DVD boxes
5 empty M&M bags- all next to Hannah's seat- can you say chocoholic?
12 pony tail holders- no wonder I can never find them in the house.
enough loose change to make a dent in the national debt-but curiously not our own debt.

And that's just a sample. It was seriously trashed. It's amazing how stuff can pile up. I generally let Hannah have the back row of seats to herself because she's somewhat of a slob and I hate for the boys to have to clear a space to sit down every time among her stuffed animal collection and M&M wrappers. So I tend to let the back row get pretty bad before I notice something has to be done. I think I may have let it go a smidge too long this time :)

only me...

i have never wanted to do pilates or yoga in a class environment. Not because I don't think I can do it. I'm pretty athletic. I'm also pretty stretchy. No, the reason I have always shyed away from doing them in a class environment is because both of these classes cause you to twist like a pretzel and in doing so, I'm pretty sure I'll fart. But me, being the brave soul that I am thought to myself, "self...if you can get through the Winsor pilates video at home without expressing gas, you'll be fine in the class!" Silly girl! And I CAN make it through the video. Well, for the most part. Except for that one part in the advanced video- the rollover- where you lay on your back with your legs straight out in front of you. You pick them up and roll them up and over your head, so that you lying there with your ass straight up in the air and your feet are suspended over your head. While in this position, you have to have enough control to open your legs to a "V" and and then close them and then roll back down so that you're laying flat again. People, I fart EVERY TIME I try it. But, alas, my friend assures me there is nothing that advanced in this class. She assures me. Except today we had a different teacher. Our other teacher doesn't do the Wed. class and we didn't know that having never made it in on a Wed. This new teacher does advanced moves. Ones like say...the rollover. And oh yes, Amy farted. Amy farted LOUD. What else can one do, when one farts obnoxiously loud while one lies ass up in the air? Laugh. Hysterically, until there are tears rolling down thine face.
I don't know if I'll ever be able to show my face in the Wed class again, but I'm going to work on controlling sphincter as well as core muscles while doing the rollover at home until next week.

live vicariously through me...at your own risk...

so yesterday, during my 2 hours of PEACE (!!) and QUIET (!!) while ryan was at school i cleaned. Yes... that's right. I cleaned. A friend of mine, who was at work, called me sometime in the middle to ask what I was doing. She told me she was living vicariously through me. She has to work, I do not. I am ever so lucky. She was disappointed when I told her I had just finished mopping the kitchen floor and was off to clean toilets in a moment. It's a sad statement of my life. But since I'm so lucky and I don't have to work (catch the dripping sarcasm) this is what I do in my "free" time. But really, I got to mop the floor and I got to actually see it all the way clean. Most of the time as I am mopping someone is tracking grass, dirt, mud, etc behind me as I go. Same with the toilets. It was a solid hour before someone peed in them and ruined their pristine clean-ness. It was a thing of beauty, but apparently not worthy of living vicariously and all that madness. She'd rather be at work than cleaning toilets. Who knew? I also cleaned my eldest son's fish tank. The fish thanks me because the algae was thick and he wasn't sure he'd ever see the light of day again. Justin, however, did not notice the clean tank. He instead noticed that I failed to clean the ceramic shark that lives in the tank. Like, it sounded sort of like this...good job mom. It looks pretty good I guess, but next time do it properly and see the job through to completion. Clean the ceramic shark too.
I'm allowing him to live because it will now and forever be his job to clean his fish tank. Ceramic shark and all.

sadness...

You will be so very missed.

and then there were none...

do you hear the hallelujah chorus? Listen closely... no wait a second, what is that again? Oh...it's SILENCE...

Ryan is off to preschool today. I'm a little choked up about it. Not because he's going to school because, please, the silence? Yes...I am enjoying the silence. No, it's more that it seems like it was mere days ago that he was this...

Now he's all light sabers, catching crickets bare-handed, picking boogers, farting bubbles in the bathtub, mouthing off, and this...

At the risk of sounding like a 90 year old granny, where has the time gone???

kindergarten, baby...

so hannah had her first day of kindergarten on friday. Because she is the oft forgotten middle child, and I am 'that mom' I am posting her pictures two days later instead of the day of, like I did for my first born. What can I say? I had to squeeze in two nights of my high school reunion this weekend, and there were margaritas involved, and well Jose and I.... Anyway, I am getting caught up on life today. And sobering up for the coming week. The week in which my youngest offspring goes to PRESCHOOL. My grandma said to me last week that I wouldn't know what to do with myself during those precious hours when all of my children are GONE. AT SCHOOL. But I think a high calorie Starbucks beverage is calling my name this Tuesday morning. A coffee that I can drink in solitude. With no one asking me to put a different movie in the DVD, or asking to do art projects involving scissors, playdoh, or paint.
Anyway...back to Hannah...

I offer a pictorial of her bus stop experience...

Before leaving the house... pose...Ms. Diva First-Day-of-School-Girl

At the bus stop...telling all of the other kids to BACK OFF, because this is my 'get on the bus moment' and didn't anyone tell you to get in a line and wait your turn? I already know how to do EVERYTHING the right way, because I already know how to do EVERYTHING. I probably don't even NEED to go to school today because, really, what can they teach me that I don't ALREADY KNOW??...

On the bus...pose again...did you get that shot mom? Bus driver do NOT roll your eyes at me. I need this documented in my scrapbook.

I had another shot of the bus pulling away but blogger won't let me upload more than 3 pictures and really there is no way to illustrate the silence that surrounded us all when my sweet little know-it-all got on the bus finally and the driver closed the door. I won't lie. I was a little misty eyed. Which is more than I thought I would be. I was worried I would look like the only heart-less, cold parent standing at the bus stop not boo-hooing over my child heading off to kindergarten. I love Hannah, but you know how silence is golden at the movie theaters? It's platinum at this house. And because Hannah likes to see how many words she can squeeze into every day, there is not much platinum around here. Now there are 3 solid hours of platinum every weekday morning. Ryan doesn't quite have the need to fill every moment with words the way his sister does.

Next up...Ryan first day of school pictures and then it will back to posts filled with toilet cleaning stories and musings on my love of swiffer.

it's all good....

for the first time in justin's school career, there were no tears on the first day. The only waterworks we saw was the pouring rain that threatened to ruin any chance of good bus stop pictures. No more jitters. Like, WHATEVER mom. It's not a big deal. Put the camera away already. There was much eyerolling at the bus stop when I whipped out my camera. Because GAWD....you're so embarrassing mom! I guess that means you won't kiss me good bye then? He's a grown up. No need for the kiss and hugs and definitely no need for the ol' good luck on your first day sweetie!!

Geez mom....

a year of nonsense...

so i just realized i've been at this blog thing for a year now. Happy Blog-iversary to me :) Most of what I have written over the last year is boring, ho-hum, just life in general stuff. I'm still glad I've kept it up regardless of how many times I've written something truly yawn inducing. I never keep up with the real-life journaling thing, for some reason this is easier to me. I can still go back and look at, and laugh at some of the stuff my family has done over the last year. Things I may have forgotten about already. In the end it's good to get a comment now and then about something I write that says "hey...yeah...me too!" Or have Matt come home from work and tell me he laughed at whatever I wrote that day. So I'll keep on sharing the ho-hum. At least for now!

trading spaces challenged.....

there are people in this world who should be blocked from having TLC or DIY networks on their TVs. The woman who is the former owner of this house, Nimrod*, was a lover of these channels. I don't know that for a fact, but as we delve deeper into living in this house day-to-day, it is the only rational explanation for the things we find. I think she spent her days watching episodes of Trading Spaces on the DVR and thinking to herself, "hey, I can do THAT! I'm going to try it right now!" I wish I could've shouted at her then. "NOOOO! STOP!" The designers on Trading Spaces are DESIGNERS. Not stay at home moms who are bored, but have a spare paint roller in the basement and money to burn on the Home Depot credit card. She was a huge fan of 'decorative' painting styles. She talked at our closing last year about being so sad to leave all of her hard work in tastefully painted rooms behind. I wish I could've gift wrapped her warped sense of painting style and sent it Priority Mail to her new home. Because for a year I have been looking at the walls and cursing them. Knowing what a huge pain in the ass it was going to be to try to fix what Nimrod had done. Every wall needing new paint has to be primed. Why? Because she favors HIGH GLOSS ENAMEL. Favors it, but doesn't think to prime between the layers and layers of different colors of high gloss on the walls. End result? Peeling chunks of paints in fabulous shades of neon pink, urine yellow, and army green. And that's just Hannah's room. Her room is the worst so we're starting there. Why anyone puts high gloss on their walls is beyond me. Maybe she wanted to be able to see her reflection when she walked in the room and couldn't afford a mirror. I'm not sure.
Just add it to the list of reasons why I can't look them in the face anymore when they come and visit their friends in the old 'hood. I wave and quickly walk in the house to avoid eye contact. I fear should I ever be forced to speak to either of the former owners, I'll start spewing venom. In reality I just want to tell her that she is neither Hildi, Doug, Or Laurie, and that Frank would cry if he could see what she's done to the walls of this house. Because the next walls I will tackle involve CRACKLE FINISH. Seriously. It's on the walls. Isn't crackle finish for furniture only? Or is that just what I've heard? I think I want to invite Frank over just so I can see him roll his eyes. And then he can personally tell her that she should child lock TLC on her cable box.

*Not her real name. I wanted to protect her true identity so that the 3 people who read this blog don't know the asshat's real name.

so this is normal...

you just have to laugh. When someone calls you to chat and starts talking about how psycho her kids have been lately. So you pepper her stories with some of your own psycho kid babble. And then you both share an Oprah style lightbulb moment. Wait...so it's normal? The stuff my psycho kids are doing is NORMAL? Hmmm.... I'll save that thought for later when I'm ready to list Hannah on e-bay.

at least she's honest...

hannah just came trooping into the house with another girl from her collection of 5 year old friends. Not the same one from the other day. A different one whom I've discussed before (see: "hate to say I told ya so") (Oh how I wish I knew how to link to previous posts). This is the one from her collection who makes me twitch the most when I see her heading in the direction of my home. She's a little too Eddie Haskell for my taste. Did I just age myself or what?
Anyway, as they were coming through the door I told Hannah that whichever portion of the house that they should choose to destroy today, she should keep somewhere in the forefront of her brain that it would have to be cleaned up when they were done. She looked at her little friend and asked if she would help her clean it up and her friend looked right at her and said no. And then walked upstairs.
All I can say to Hannah is, "don't say she didn't warn you"

christmas in august...

i know you're all on the edge of your seats wondering if hannah cleaned up her messes yesterday. She did. As soon as her friend left, I pointed her in the direction of the basement. There was MUCH foot stomping, teeth gnashing, and groaning about how completely unfair her life was. I told her she was right, it was unfair, but such is life. I know. My compassion overwhelms. I stood at the top of the stairs and listened for what I knew was coming next. The flopping of her (clearly) abused self on the floor and commencing of waterworks. It took a few minutes for it to take full bloom, but when it did, I stood at the top of the stairs and informed her that she wasn't coming up until the basement looked like it did when she went down. If that meant she needed to continue crying for several hours and then get it done, so be it. I can wait it out. I got the standard comeback, " I just can't DOOOO it. It's too much for me all by myself!" I stifled a smile (I know, again, I lack compassion) and told her that if it felt like too much she should think about that next time she has a friend over and they decide to get every single toy out. I also told her that I wasn't budging on the original plan of not letting her leave until it was finished. Then because it's the kind of mom I am, I reminded her that she also had a bedroom to clean up and if she wanted to be able to leave the house again this week, she had better get on it.
There was more grumbling. But 1/2 hr later she staggered up the stairs (she's all about the drama) and said I could look. I did my inspection and gave her a few more things to do before it was done. She finished those things and then to my surprise came up the stairs smiling and PROUD of herself for getting it done. Then she went off to tackle her bedroom. She also managed to get it presentable again. Without turning on the tears for full-effect again. I was astounded. It worked. With a little screaming (from me and her) and a little perseverance, I got her to clean up after herself.
It's a Christmas miracle. God bless us, every one.

help me with this one...

why are 5 year old girls so much more dangerous than 5 year old boys? Or is it just MY particular 5 year old girl? I don't think so. Now knowing my fair share of 5 year old girls, I find them all to be similar in temperament. Meaning bratty, selfish, know-it-all, etc. Or is it just mine? Really, be honest. I spent the better part of the morning cleaning up after my little darling whirlwind. She spent the night with a friend so she was gone this morning. Meaning I can clean up her mess without her destroying it in my wake. It lasted a total of 10 minutes after she entered our residence. 10 solid minutes. I walked into her room a mere few minutes after she came home and her room looked like world war III. Again. I also spent an hour putting the basement back together this morning. She and her friend completely. trashed. it. It looks like it hasn't been cleaned in months and I just. did. it. this. morning. ***sighing heavily***
My experience with my boys is similar, but decidedly different. They can trash a room in 5 minutes flat also, but if you ask them to pick it up, they will. Without the hormonal outbursts so common with their sister. I told her that she was responsible for basement clean up. I know that it won't get done without tears. I don't know how to fix this issue. Same with her room.
I have these apparent choices...
1. continue to clean it up. I then run the risk of ending up cleaning her nasty bedroom well into her teen years (example: my mother)
2. make her clean up her disaster. I then run the risk of having to listen to her screeching about the unfairness of life in general. At the top of her lungs. This is especially problematic because I also run the risk of the neighbors calling child services because she is OBVIOUSLY being abused.
3. take all of her toys away. I tried this and it NEVER WORKS. I just removed all of her Barbies a few weeks ago because I was tired of vacuuming their shoes and having to pick their little blonde selves up. When she found out I thought the screeching would ensue. Nope. She just shrugged her shoulders and played with something else. Yes, she is spoiled. Yes, she has too many toys.
4. Let her live in her own filth like a pig and hope she grows out of it. Close the door if we have guests.

Not sure which of these options is most viable. All have their own merits and all have obvious set backs as well.
Maybe I'll just sell her to the gypsies for a nickel.

not very blog-worthy...

so much going on and at the same time, not a whole lot. My parents (scratch that- MY WHOLE FAMILY EXCEPT ME) (but I'm not bitter) were on vacation for 11 days and I was stationed as dog watcher at their house. Suffice it to say it was not the best run I have ever had over there and I've had some bad ones. I got the flu over the last 3 days that I was there and it was just sort of the rancid icing on a really stale cake. Not fun. But I'm not bitter. Once they came home I had 1 day to prepare for Carol and Scott's arrival. I didn't care that I was rushed and not feeling well. I knew we would have fun, so I just kept my focus there. And we did have a total blast at the lake. I just love that house. I also just love those people. The 4 of us had about a million and 1/2 laughs all wrapped into 3 wonderful days. They left on Sunday and Justin had his adenoid/tonsillectomy scheduled for Monday. That has gone off without a hitch thus far. He is healing and not hardly whiny at all. I love that boy.
More on the surgery... there is nothing more heart-wrenching than to watch your child be wheeled away for surgery. Any surgery. He was very, VERY loopy from the excellent drugs they gave him. Like his mama, excellent drugs=emotional train wreck. He was all dopey and grinning until the nurse came to wheel him off then he looked at me with these begging, watery eyes as if to say "don't let them take me away mama". It was all I could do not to dissolve into a puddle of mommy goo on the floor. In the end it was all OK, but yeeks, I hated that part.
Now, because my parents are plotting to drive me to the brink of insanity, tomorrow they leave for a dog show and I'll be stationed at their house until Sunday. Praying that this whole recovery thing continues as is. Although since MY WHOLE FAMILY won't be at the dog show, like they were in Florida, at least I'll have help.

hate to say i told ya so...

everyone on this street (well almost everyone) knows i got poison ivy and where i got it. Right in my front flower bed. I got it and still have it. It's a breed of poison ivy that apparently doesn't like to just go away. However, I have made it clear to parents and children alike that our front flower bed may not be a good spot to play in. Not that it ever was, but don't say I didn't warn you.
As a side note, one of the little girls who plays here on a regular basis has a nasty habit. If she needs to potty, she does so anywhere. Like in my back yard, next to the swing set, in my flower beds, etc. She doesn't bother to find a bush, she just drops trow and goes. I understand the need to do this on the emergency basis, however we have more than one working toilet in this house and I have urged her to either come in and use one. She doesn't. She prefers wide open spaces apparently. She even does it when we have guests over. I have had to step over many the dropped jaw of my friends who were over for dinner and had to witness her bare-assed in the middle of my yard, urinating.
Do you see where the side note is coming full circle? I told her not to do it. More than once, but she peed in my front flower bed one day and now her little tush is covered in poison ivy. A breed of poison ivy that doesn't go away all quick like. It sticks around for a good, long time.
I told you not to do it. Maybe it will be a lesson learned?

cardio...morning style...

i am not a lover of the morning. Not even a smidge, do I love it. A friend has been egging me to workout with her in the mornings and for weeks I have rolled my eyes at her and ignored, to the best of my ability, her ignorant morning workout plan. Because seriously? Me... the morning...we don't get along. However, I have been trying and failing to get to the gym in the evening for over a week now. I think my foot is healed enough to take a pounding. I NEEEEEEED to take a pounding myself. So my brain starts with this dialog. "maybe if you went in the morning, you'd actually go" "you'd be done before the kids even wake up" "think of all the energy you'd have" "if she is picking you up, you have to get out of bed"
My brain is saying all this and I am wrinkling my nose and throwing a face because, me...the morning... not so much. I also knew I shouldn't say outloud what my brain is saying because that might seem like I was agreeing and I WAS NOT because, me... the morning... have we already been over this??
She mentioned it again last Friday and I finally said "ALRIGHT ALREADY! I'll get with your ignorant morning fitness plan. Pick me up at 6:30 on Monday." Both her husband and my own looked at each other, looked at us, and then laughed. Because...well we don't DO mornings.
But we did. We bitched the entire way to the gym. Seriously, the entire way. We both looked like hell on a bad day. But we did it anyway. We survived. And it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. And I can't believe I just said that. Not only did we survive... brace yourself for this... have a seat if you are weak in the knees... we are going to do it AGAIN TOMORROW.
You know why? Because we both said we would. The beauty is, my house is on the way to the gym for her, so she said she'd pick me up. That means if she doesn't feel like getting up, she has to because she said she would pick me up. Same goes for me. I told her I'd be waiting at the door, so I have to be.
I can't believe I actually did it.

step away from the chocolate and no one gets hurt...

PMS is a bitch. A bitch that is only sweetened with chocolate. Lots of it. What can I say? I must feed the monster...

i *heart* the 4th of july...

i always have been a big fan. It's always been high on my list of favorite holidays. I love the cookouts and all of the stuff that goes along with it. When I was a kid, my parents always had a huge bash on the 4th. All of the kids in attendance would take off somewhere in the middle and go to the carnival that was a few blocks from our house. We'd eat fair food until we were vomit-ous and then park ourselves on the street somewhere that was blocked off and watch the fireworks. Then we'd hike back to my house where our parents were all in good moods enhanced by Budweiser so we could get away with more. In this day and age we'd never be allowed to go to the carnival by ourselves. One or two of the parents who drew the short straws would have to leave the party and watch the kids and we wouldn't have had anywhere near as much fun. We were probably 12 the first time they let us go to that carnival alone. Like I said, it would NEVER happen now. But, gawd, it was so much fun.
This year we spent the 3rd out at Buckeye Lake. Matt's sister and her husband bought a house out there last summer that I am currently in love with. It is the perfect little lake house and Buckeye Lake is a blast. They bought a pontoon boat towards the end of the summer last year and it sealed the deal for me. I love to pontoon :) The fireworks over the lake were awesome! Made even better by the fact that we were full of fabulous food while we watched. The plans we had for the 4th had to get a last minute shift because one of our friends had sick kids. We ended up going to my family's house for a cookout, then came home. Our neighbor was having a huge party and all of the neighbors were there, so we put Ryan to bed and walked next door to chat while Justin and Hannah ran with the kids until they fell over from exhaustion. They spent the better part of the evening catching fireflies. And they had a fabulous time. All of us parents marveled at how we used to do the very same thing. And then poke holes in the jars so we could keep them forever to light our rooms. Only to find them dead in the jar in the morning. Justin found the same thing to be the case. I think it is a rite of childhood passage to catch fireflies.
All in all it was a really fun holiday. No carnival, so no elephant ears, but also no nasty toothless carnies leering at my 5 year old daughter. Times they do change, and so does my idea of fun!

irrational...

when hannah was small (er) we marveled at how fearless she was. Justin was the total opposite. He would try things slowly. I never had to worry about him jumping or climbing on things that were too high, he was my little chicken man. Hannah was a different breed. She climbed to the tallest rocks and jumped off. She was always hanging like a monkey off of furniture. She'd try anything once. Sometime in the last month she switched a gear and I can't un-switch it. I noticed it the first time in her gymnastics class. They wanted her to hang from a bar and she flat out refused. Bizarre. Then she was swinging from the rings on our swingset and I tried to show her how to let go upside down. She went apeshit, screaming no at me. My sister and I shared a puzzled look. Any other time she'd have been begging me to show her. It has gotten progressively worse. Now it's about water. She won't go in the pool. We started swimming lessons this week and Mon. it was a joke. Tues was a little better. We missed Wed. because of dentist appts and today she was back to clinging to the side of the pool and refusing to FLOAT ON HER BACK WITH THE INSTRUCTORS HELP. That's right. In 3'6" of water she is afraid to attempt a float with someone holding onto her. This is my fearless-wonder child. Even at the dentist yesterday she said she was afraid. She's been before and actually enjoyed it, so I don't get it. She got a haircut today. Before we walked in she whispered to me, "mom...what if it hurts?" WHAT!!??!! I'm trying to be patient but it's infuriating to me. She is acting like a complete chicken over everything and it's just not normal for her. Plus...no one else can have fun at the pool because she is terrified. Clinging to the edge of the pool. In 3'6" of water. That she can TOTALLY stand up in. I'm sure it's a phase. At least that's what everyone keeps saying, but God help me if she doesn't work through it quick like I'm going to lose my rocks. I found my self screaming at her this morning to get it together. At the top of my voice I'm screeching at her "you will go to swimming lessons, because it's fun and you will eventually enjoy it!" Yeah mom, that's helpful. I wanted to eat my words or at least the tone in which I screamed them at her as soon as they left my mouth. I hate that I yelled at her and I hate that I lost my patience. It just seems like very piece of our life now is covered by "but what if it's scary?" I have no answers. Sometimes life is scary. Hell, I'm scared to open my mailbox and look at the ever mounting stack of bills every day. This swimming thing just baffles me. She's had lessons before. We didn't do much swimming last summer because of the chaos that was our life in the summer of '06, but should that have turned her into a total chicken?
Any words of wisdom on chicken children and working through this not-so-fun phase of childhood would be greatly appreciated.

fun was had by all...

we had a blast. We knew we would. Our friends always take glorious care of us. Although... even just an evening in the backyard with the kids playing and all of us eating, chatting, drinking... really it couldn't be any better than that. Oh and IKEA. I sing the praises of Ikea once again. Where else can you buy an end table that is living room worthy (in our home anyways!!) for $12.99. No, seriously. It was $12.99. I remember going there the first time with Janet and being absolutely floored by the cheap-ness of it all. I bought end tables then and thought to myself "self... for under $15 even if these tables only last for one year it was worth it." I am now replacing that same table with one in a different color. 5 years later. I'd say we got our full $12.99 out of them. And really? It's wonderful because I don't have to be one of those people who twitch if you don't put a coaster under your drink.
So we're back 'down south' again. We miss our Northern friends, but not our old neighborhood. We drove past the old house and the new owners don't seem to be giving it much love. It isn't horrifying, just sad. We saw our old neighbors. Our kids loved them, we did not. They haven't changed a bit. The kids were happy to see them so that was nice. We just drove away shaking our heads and being thankful to be out of the neighborhood. The house across the street is still for sale. Has been for 2 years now. We were lucky to escape when we did. It was a nice awakening though. With all the quirks that our new neighborhood and set of neighbors has to offer, we are MUCH happier in our new surroundings. If it wasn't such a long drive to visit friends, it would be perfection. Though still, even though we have been separated by so many miles and months, we fell back into laughing, chatting, whining about our kids and husbands, etc...just like the old days. It was a good weekend indeed.

headed north...

we are off to visit michigan this weekend. Since my beloved trip to Canada had to be sidelined this year, we had a blank weekend on the calendar. No such thing as a 'do-nothing' weekend in this family so we decided to fill our blank weekend with a trip to visit Michigan buddies. To say the kids are psyched is an extreme understatement. I don't think anyone will ever replace their Michigan friends in their heads. They have friends here now, but they still look at the pictures of their Michigan buddies with longing and talk about them constantly. Hannah still has a bulletin board in her room full of pictures of herself, Dana, & Kaitlyn. And who am I kidding? I miss them all too! Matt had to be prodded into the trip, because he (unlike myself) is all about an empty space on the calendar. Don't get me wrong, I love me some unscheduled time, but this weekend was just perfect for an escape. I figured the best way to spend it doing whatever we wanted, was to go somewhere else and GET AWAY. Now that's it's all planned and set up, Matt is really psyched about it too. We always have a blast when we all get together and our kids play incredibly well together.
So, now I have to spend today getting everything set up here at home. Making feeding instructions for the pets and getting their cages/tanks/litterbox/whatever else cleaned so the my sister doesn't have to deal with anything icky. Plus getting laundry together, packing, and getting all the kids stuff together. The list is never-ending, but I'm just so excited to go!! I don't even care!! Plus...there is the possibility of a trip to IKEA!! Did I mention IKEA??!!
So we're off for the weekend. Hope the weekend is wonderful in your spot too!

the grind...

as a mom who stays home, like has no job, is "just a mom", occasionally i get in a funk. One of those those I-never-get-to-do-anything-for-myself-my-sole-purpose-is-to-serve-others kind of funks. It doesn't help that with my right foot being down, I haven't driven in 2 1/2 weeks (until Monday when I was forced to because I had to drive to the Dr to get a shot in my ass because I had poison ivy, but I digress) It still is painful to drive because having my foot at the angle that one needs to push the gas pedal, is just not comfy yet. But tolerable. Anyhow... yesterday I was supposed to get my haircut. I am so looking forward to this for many reasons. Most of them because my hair looks like crap right now, but also? I wanted some "me time". Selfish? Probably. But I've only been out of the house ALONE (meaning without a child attached to me) to go to weight watchers in the past 2 1/2 wks. and I really wanted to be ALONE for say, an hour. The appt. was at 7, so I just had to have a husband in place to take over my job by 6:30. And 6:30 was pushing it so I asked if he could shoot for 6:20 to give me plenty of time. No problem he says. Then he shows up at 6:40 sputtering excuses about traffic. I'm sure it was traffic involved, but being that there was no WAY I could make it there in 20 min, I had to cancel my appt. And I was not a happy mama. In fact I didn't speak (nicely) to him for the rest of the evening. Selfish? Probably. But damn. I just wanted a haircut. Now it's going to be another week or so before I can do it again. The only other thing she had in the evening this week was a 6:30 appt and let's face it, if he couldn't get home in time for a 7:00 appt odds aren't good that I'll make it there a 1/2 hr earlier.
And so...last night I was evil. And angry. And feeling like my whole purpose on this earth is to serve others and does anyone care about me?? So the children and husband steered clear of me and the black cloud hanging over my head. I went to bed early and feel marginally better about my lot in life today. I do love my "just a mom" position. I just wish I had a provision in my contract for personal time. Personal time that didn't always have to involve Dr appts. I'd like personal time that involved me ALONE for say... 1 hour. And a professional with a pair of scissors that can make me look like Reese Witherspoon in Sweet Home Alabama. I know I'm asking a lot.

bring it on...

so we're off with a bang. Never a dull moment 'round these parts. We spent the weekend tearing out bushes, because I am not a big evergreen bush fan. Can't say why, but I just am not a fan. So now they're gone and I have a big empty flower bed to plan. Most of it won't get done until the fall now when I can split hostas and daylilies, so I have time to look at stuff and plan. While we were tearing out bushes we came across a vine that was growing up and through 2 of the bushes. I saw it a month ago and tore some of it out. This weekend I tore the rest of it out. All the men, who were helping tear out the bushes, jumped away as if it were a deadly snake. It was just a vine. Of poison ivy. The shit doesn't scare me. **I** am not allergic to it. I tried to get out of staying at a heinous camp one summer by rolling in it to no avail. I just got really dirty, not a blister at all. I have torn it out of places my whole life, never a blister. As I mentioned earlier, I took some of it out just a month ago. Again, no blister. Because **I** am not allergic to it. Except...now apparently I am. I look like Will Smith from the movie Hitch. It isn't anywhere on me except my face. My eye is swollen, my upper lip looks like I got Angelina Jolie lip injections. Just my upper lip mind you, not the lower one. Oh Yeah. It's sexy. I went to the Dr. this afternoon and was informed it is also in my ears and throat. But...I'm not allergic!!! Why did this happen? It's this little thing called "your 30s". Never had acne? Now you do! Like a teenager! Never had allergies? Now you do! You lucky bitch! Along with these fun things you also get raging hormones that are out of control. Suh-weet! I just can't wait for peri-menopause in my 40s!!!
And so to recap the summer so far...
-sprained ligaments in the foot
-poison ivy all over the face requiring a cortisone injection

what next???

On the bright side all the kids are playing well with all the other neighboring kids and everyone seems content with the summer so far. No one has gotten too booooooooored yet.

ho hum....

really...there is so little going on i don't have much to blog about. I got poked and prodded for a fun update, but there is nothing fun here. I hurt my foot a week and 1/2 ago. Fun! It's in one of those menacing looking black boots now and everyone gasps at it and asks me what I did. Then they wait. Expecting some really cool thing I was doing when I hurt it. Well...I was walking. And then my ankle gave out and I wasn't walking anymore. There was lots of popping, cracking, tearing, etc. Now I can't walk on it. The end. Then they say, "Seriously? You were just walking?" So I ask, am I the only one who has that freak, ankle-not-working-suddenly- and-turning-underneath-me-thing? Because it happens to me all the time, but maybe I am alone. Maybe I have weak ankles? Maybe I'm just a klutz? Either way, it was a boring accident, just me being klutzy. Now I just have to wait until I can put weight on it again without screaming in agony. Because, really? I don't have time for crutches.
So there's my glowing update. Wasn't it fun?

someone remind me....

sometime mid-late July, when I am screaming about how long the summer is. Someone tap me on the shoulder. Tap me and remind me about how much I despise school mornings. Remind me that I definitely despise school mornings MORE than I despise long summer days full of angry children who hate breathing the same air as their siblings. Even those days when I hear someone say for the 1000 billionth time that day "I'm so bored!" or "This house is so boring" or "we never do anything fun" or any combination of those 3.
Because trying to get out the door and to the bus without killing one of my children is by far worse than any long, horrible summer day. Long, horrible summer days are easily fixed by a margarita or a beer, or both.

conquer this...

laundry sucks my will to live. No really. It does. There is ALWAYS laundry to be done. I have done laundry all day today. Washed it, dried it, folded it, found closet or drawer space for it. All fuh-reaking day. Now there is a small pile of laundry in the laundry room that is too small to be washed. Our drawers and closets are bursting with freshly laundered clothes. There is a serious lack of hangers. This should give me a feeling of accomplishment, right? It doesn't, because it's one of those chores that always regenerates itself in the blink of an eye. Tomorrow morning there will magically be a pile of laundry to be washed that resembles Mt. Vesuvius. Dirty clothes are like bunnies. You blink and where once there was 1 dirty sock, now there are 47. Not 48 because that would mean all the socks had matches. Not a possibility.

glowing....

i was almost embarrassed of myself last night. I was glowing, bouncing, etc. just acting like a fool. In front of people. I hit my goal at weight watchers last night. Go ahead with the applause, I'll wait :) ...................................


I thought I could remain calm and cool about it, but I acted like a 3 year old. This is something I have worked toward since I gave birth to Justin. I got really close to goal before I got pregnant with Ryan, but then after I had him, my body chose to hang on to the weight awhile. And I helped it out a little. Or a lot. But I finally got to the point this past winter where I couldn't take it anymore, so I put my foot down. And damn... it was hard. Cut out all the food I love. Cut out alcohol. Exercise more. None of this was easy. But I did it. I can now go to the Dr's office and be weighed and not wince. Also? they don't have to slide that menacing 150 lb marker across the bar before they can even start to gauge my weight. That was always a pet peeve of mine. I hate that 150 lb bar. And now I can engage in a little beer and not have it ruin a whole week for me.
I still have few pounds to get off before I am completely happy. Plus I have to make it through 6 wks of "maintenance" with weight watchers before I get my lifetime member status. But in the meantime, I can see myself in a new light. I catch glimpses of myself in store windows and doors and think I don't look 1/2 bad instead of gagging and thinking that can't be me. It's a good feeling. Even if I did make a total dork out of myself at weight watchers last night. It's all good.

update already...

for real. Not much in the way of excitement going on here. I have started and deleted at least 10 posts because, yawn, who cares???
We've just been busy with all of the stuff we're always busy with. For some reason everything on the planet gets scheduled in May & June. Not sure why that is, but ask any mom with school age kids and she'll say the same thing. This month is CRAMMED and it doesn't stop until mid-June when all the graduation parties cease to happen. I am looking forward to the lazy days of summer. Not that they will be lazy by any stretch since every neighborhood child will be at my house ('cause it's the fun house don't ya know?) but at least we won't be doing the morning rush to get ready for school.
You still with me? Told ya it's boring here. Go ahead and yawn. I'll wait....
Let's see, I got the info for my 15 yr class reunion in the mail yesterday. I know, who has a 15 yr reunion? I've been asked that every time I've mentioned it. I think it's because we had a blast at the 10 yr. No really, we did. Or maybe just I did? Whatever, they scheduled a 15 yr too. I hopped onto classmates.com to see what was up on the message board that was set up for the reunion stuff. Nothing was up, but I did find all the info on my very best friend in the world while I was growing up. I shot her an e-mail and hoped the e-mail address on classmates was right. We lived across the street from each other and were best friends all through elementary school and Junior High. She got shipped off to a private school for the first year of HS and we grew apart. Freshman year of HS is a tough time to be separated and we were doing different things with different people. Then my family moved to a new house and we just lost touch. I haven't seen her in probably 12 yrs now, but we spent last night e-mailing back and forth. She lives about 5 miles from me and we probably shop the same Target. Small world! I'm excited to get back together with her.
Other than that.... hmmm.... there's been soccer, dance, gymnastics, baseball, karate....a lot of spinning in circles and drawing straws to see who got to drag Ryan along to what. Poor Ry. Sucks to be the short straw. OH! we had Justin's root canal last week. What else???? HEY!! are you yawning?? I warned you it's been boring.
I'll post some cute dance recital pictures next week. Maybe that will liven things up around here?

to all my favorite moms out there...

in gearing up for mother's day, this one made me laugh out loud. Most of these answers sound like they came straight from my house!

Why God Made Moms

Answers given by 2nd grade school children (8 year olds) to the following questions:

Why did God make mothers?
1. She's the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.

How did God make mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my Mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.


What ingredients are mothers made of?
1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men's bones. Then they mostly use string, I think.


Why did God give you Your mother & not some other mom?
1. We're related!
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people's moms like me.


What kind of little girl was your mom?
1. My Mom has always been my Mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don't know because I wasn't there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.


What did Mom need to know about dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer? Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?


Why did your Mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world and my Mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that Mom didn't have her thinking cap on.


Who's the boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because dad's such a goofball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.


What's the difference between Moms & dads?
1. Moms work at work and work at home & dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller & stronger, but Moms have all the real power 'cause that's who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend's.
4. Moms have magic; they make you feel better without medicine.

What does your Mom do in her spare time?
1. Mothers don't do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.


What would it take to make your Mom perfect?
1. On the inside she's already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know her hair. I'd diet, maybe blue.

If you could change one thing about your Mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I'd get rid of that.
2. I'd make my Mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head.

the good part...

the good part about having a to-do list as long as my arm, is the aftermath. When I cross a chunk of the items off and I feel tremendous accomplishment. Or when I get something done and can sit back and marvel at my own crafty-ness. Or someone else marvels at my crafty-ness and says to me, "you MADE this??" I will admit to a little head swelling when someone can't believe how unbelievably cool something is that I made with my own 2 hands. Or when my very good friend tells me what a huge weight I have lifted off of her shoulders by helping her with something. She's busier than I am, but would help me at a moment's notice if she could. It feels good that I can do the same for her. Even if by lifting her burden, I gave myself some burden. I think somewhere, somehow it all evens out.
I am a helper by nature. Do I allow people to use me sometimes? Yes. It's just the way I am. I've said before I don't know how to say no. But sometimes I get a really great end result feeling because I said yes, and helped out with something. I think that makes my stress level even out and makes me feel like a good person.