Still I Rise.
That is my new moto. My personal mantra. It is a poem by the wonderful Maya Angelou. This is a new poem for me. I'd never heard it until late one night I was Googling and came across it.
This poem spoke to me in a way I didn't realize words could. This poem opened my eyes to the beauty and power that was inside me. The power to be me. The power to be strong. The power to begin again.
It made me realize that no matter what I had been through the last year I could Rise. I realized that no matter what I had felt, the pain, humiliation, anger, I could Rise.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
It's ok to cry
It's ok to cry. I have to tell myself that a lot. Give myself permission to cry.
What I'm going through is grief. I am grieving the loss of my marriage. My partner. My life as I knew it. That has been really hard to accept.
What was harder for me to even try to think about was my children are grieving too. They are suffering the same loss if not worse. In reality they've lost both of their parents. For half of their lives. Instead of spending their entire lives with mom and dad they are now forced to split their time, their lives between mom and dad. Never the two shall meet.
I tried for a long time not to cry in front of my kids. I know I have to be strong for them. I have to be. And that's true. But I also have to be human. I have to be real. And that means I have to grieve for my loss. Because it is my loss. But it's not just my loss. It's theirs too and we share it.
One night, after mediation I was empty. I was completely drained and nothing I could do or say would stop the tears from flowing. I went and picked up my kids from my parents and held them close. I thought I was good. I thought I was ok and wouldn't cry in front of them. But as I watched them take their shoes off and hang up their coats... I lost it. I could no longer keep up the front that I was OK.
The both ran to me and wrapped their arms around me. Asked me what was wrong. K even went and got me a Kleenex. How could I tell them I felt like a failure. I felt like I had let them down. These tiny humans that I gave birth too and love unconditionally... how could I tell them I was sorry I couldn't fix things.
But I didn't have to tell them anything other then "Mommy's having a really hard day. And that's ok. Sometimes, people just have bad days. Sometimes, people just need to cry so they can feel better." All they heard was "Mommy's having a hard day." And that's ok. They hugged me and told me they loved me. They kissed my entire face again and again. K even went up stairs and made my bed - just so I didn't have to.
These tiny humans are suffering too. And they see my suffering even if I try and hide it. By crying, by expressing my grief they know it's ok for them to do the same. I had heard that from several people but didn't believe them. Not until that night. Not until I held my babies close and cried openly for my loss. I hope that by being able to express my grief they can see it and understand it's ok for them to cry too.
It's not over. It's far from over. Grief comes in waves. Sometimes I'll be totally fine, and then suddenly I'm falling and the grief is so overwhelming I can hardly stand. But that's ok. That's normal.
It's ok to cry.
What I'm going through is grief. I am grieving the loss of my marriage. My partner. My life as I knew it. That has been really hard to accept.
What was harder for me to even try to think about was my children are grieving too. They are suffering the same loss if not worse. In reality they've lost both of their parents. For half of their lives. Instead of spending their entire lives with mom and dad they are now forced to split their time, their lives between mom and dad. Never the two shall meet.
I tried for a long time not to cry in front of my kids. I know I have to be strong for them. I have to be. And that's true. But I also have to be human. I have to be real. And that means I have to grieve for my loss. Because it is my loss. But it's not just my loss. It's theirs too and we share it.
One night, after mediation I was empty. I was completely drained and nothing I could do or say would stop the tears from flowing. I went and picked up my kids from my parents and held them close. I thought I was good. I thought I was ok and wouldn't cry in front of them. But as I watched them take their shoes off and hang up their coats... I lost it. I could no longer keep up the front that I was OK.
The both ran to me and wrapped their arms around me. Asked me what was wrong. K even went and got me a Kleenex. How could I tell them I felt like a failure. I felt like I had let them down. These tiny humans that I gave birth too and love unconditionally... how could I tell them I was sorry I couldn't fix things.
But I didn't have to tell them anything other then "Mommy's having a really hard day. And that's ok. Sometimes, people just have bad days. Sometimes, people just need to cry so they can feel better." All they heard was "Mommy's having a hard day." And that's ok. They hugged me and told me they loved me. They kissed my entire face again and again. K even went up stairs and made my bed - just so I didn't have to.
These tiny humans are suffering too. And they see my suffering even if I try and hide it. By crying, by expressing my grief they know it's ok for them to do the same. I had heard that from several people but didn't believe them. Not until that night. Not until I held my babies close and cried openly for my loss. I hope that by being able to express my grief they can see it and understand it's ok for them to cry too.
It's not over. It's far from over. Grief comes in waves. Sometimes I'll be totally fine, and then suddenly I'm falling and the grief is so overwhelming I can hardly stand. But that's ok. That's normal.
It's ok to cry.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
New year
It seems as though 2015 is going to be a big year. A year of change. A year of hope. A year of learning to get over the pain of 2014.
It's been so long since I've written I almost forgot what it was like to sit down and do this. But... a new year means I will do this. My goal is every day. I will use this blog as a way to get over the pain that is in my heart, in my life and in my every waking moment.
You see this is the year my life changes. My life is now just mine. Mine and my kids. My husband and I are getting a divorce. There are a myriad of reasons... all of which I'm sure over time I'll disclose. But for now, for the sake of my kids, I will not air my dirty laundry. Instead I plan on using this platform as a way to heal and to grow. A way to better my life and learn how to move on from this devastating loss.
This is going to be a daily log of things I go through during the year. Things I learn and hopefully things others can learn.
To be clear, I did not want this divorce. I never stopped loving my husband. I fought to save my marriage for over a year. But time has beaten me down. The constant struggle to maintain my normal in the face of the abnormal.... has finally broken me. Finally made me realize at least one thing. My marriage is over.
Marriage is about giving 100%. Each person brings 100% into it, your percentage doesn't just drop to 50% when you get married. That way you go through life with this extra percentage, this ability to count on someone else when you need them. That is the beauty of marriage, you have a partner who has committed themselves to you; and on days when you cannot, CANNOT, give 100%.... they are there to pick up that slack. They are there to add that extra percentage, give you what you cannot fathom possible. Together you are 200%.
Partners can give 200% if needed. They can pick up the entire weight of the marriage, the family, the relationship; but only for a short period of time. They cannot carry it for any duration. We weren't made that way. We were made so that over time that percentage will fluctuate. The ebb and tide will come and go but will ultimately balance itself out at 100% again.
I gave 200% for as long as I could. There were days immediately following our separation, when I could barely manage the 100% that I am required to give for my kids. I know now I can give 100%. Without question, without fail and without any reservations, for my children. Each day can be a struggle, but a struggle I have come realize I am strong enough to handle.
I'm it. I'm the one. The only one. I wasn't sure I could do it at first. Facing raising children alone. But since our separation a year ago the daily grind has become easier and easier. Admitting to myself I'm human and it's ok if I'm upset, has eased the ache in my heart just a bit. Realizing that I no longer need someone next to me... has made facing my new reality easier.
Don't get me wrong. It sucks. It's really hard. I long for the husband I married to come back to me. To love me the way he did the day we got married. To have him look at me the way he did when I first walked down that aisle, or had our first baby, or when he first saw me naked. That is what I have wanted for so long. It's hard to let that go. Hard to realize I have to move on. But I do. I have no choice.
One day I hope to look back at my marriage and know we were happy. To know that things happened for a reason. But the fog of 2014 is still lingering over me and right now... I cannot see that. I just have to have faith that one day I will find happiness again. One Day.
It's been so long since I've written I almost forgot what it was like to sit down and do this. But... a new year means I will do this. My goal is every day. I will use this blog as a way to get over the pain that is in my heart, in my life and in my every waking moment.
You see this is the year my life changes. My life is now just mine. Mine and my kids. My husband and I are getting a divorce. There are a myriad of reasons... all of which I'm sure over time I'll disclose. But for now, for the sake of my kids, I will not air my dirty laundry. Instead I plan on using this platform as a way to heal and to grow. A way to better my life and learn how to move on from this devastating loss.
This is going to be a daily log of things I go through during the year. Things I learn and hopefully things others can learn.
To be clear, I did not want this divorce. I never stopped loving my husband. I fought to save my marriage for over a year. But time has beaten me down. The constant struggle to maintain my normal in the face of the abnormal.... has finally broken me. Finally made me realize at least one thing. My marriage is over.
Marriage is about giving 100%. Each person brings 100% into it, your percentage doesn't just drop to 50% when you get married. That way you go through life with this extra percentage, this ability to count on someone else when you need them. That is the beauty of marriage, you have a partner who has committed themselves to you; and on days when you cannot, CANNOT, give 100%.... they are there to pick up that slack. They are there to add that extra percentage, give you what you cannot fathom possible. Together you are 200%.
Partners can give 200% if needed. They can pick up the entire weight of the marriage, the family, the relationship; but only for a short period of time. They cannot carry it for any duration. We weren't made that way. We were made so that over time that percentage will fluctuate. The ebb and tide will come and go but will ultimately balance itself out at 100% again.
I gave 200% for as long as I could. There were days immediately following our separation, when I could barely manage the 100% that I am required to give for my kids. I know now I can give 100%. Without question, without fail and without any reservations, for my children. Each day can be a struggle, but a struggle I have come realize I am strong enough to handle.
I'm it. I'm the one. The only one. I wasn't sure I could do it at first. Facing raising children alone. But since our separation a year ago the daily grind has become easier and easier. Admitting to myself I'm human and it's ok if I'm upset, has eased the ache in my heart just a bit. Realizing that I no longer need someone next to me... has made facing my new reality easier.
Don't get me wrong. It sucks. It's really hard. I long for the husband I married to come back to me. To love me the way he did the day we got married. To have him look at me the way he did when I first walked down that aisle, or had our first baby, or when he first saw me naked. That is what I have wanted for so long. It's hard to let that go. Hard to realize I have to move on. But I do. I have no choice.
One day I hope to look back at my marriage and know we were happy. To know that things happened for a reason. But the fog of 2014 is still lingering over me and right now... I cannot see that. I just have to have faith that one day I will find happiness again. One Day.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Tadpole fishin' and a lesson for mom
Last night was an amazing night! Well it was pretty awesome anyway. I live in the country and I wouldn't have it any other way. When my husband and I were talking about having a family we talked about where we wanted to raise our kids. We were both raised in the country - me on the outskirts of Eugene and him in a little country town.
The beauty of our house is we bought property from my family and built our own house. Its exactly what we want. On our property we have a pond. Not a spectacular pond and not a year round pond. More like a hole filled with water in our pasture... but we call it a pond so there ya go.
Well K's teacher sent a request to families to see if anyone could bring in some tadpoles for the class so they could watch them develop. Of course I immediately volunteered our pond and tadpoles for the adventure. K was very excited to go tromp down to the pond and look for the little suckers.
As a child, I fished for tadpoles from this very same pond. I was with my brother and best friend. We each got a bucket and tied a string to it. Then we got a rubber raft and floated out into the middle of the pond. We tossed those buckets into the water and pulled them out for hours. We had a blast! We got soaked! We got sunburns. We did not, however, catch any tadpoles. It's a memory that is still strong in my mind today.
I wanted to create those memories for my son. But I wanted a more successful outing then the one I shared with my brother. So we got our grubby clothes on. Put on our rubber boots. Grabbed our aquarium fish nets and trekked out into the pasture.
There is a creek that goes through the property leading to the pond... so since we were wearing our rubber boots... we walked right through the mud. And got stuck! K got his boots stuck and so did I. So I had to help him out and then try and free myself. We managed to get unstuck without loosing any boots or covering ourselves in mud.
When we got to the pond we started our fishing. It started out rather uneventfully. We would see a tadpole swim and try and catch it. That method sucked! We only caught one little tadpole. The water got muddy and then we couldn't see the tadpoles we were so studiously stalking. So we moved to another part of the pond... same results. Only this time, no tadpoles.
So I thought like a five year old. Who cares if we can see 'em. Who cares if we don't catch any. Let's have fun while we do it. Like throwing the bucket into the water from a raft. So we moved a little farther down the pond to a clear part of the water and just went to town. I told K to just scoop and see what he can get in his net.
And that's exactly what we did. We got mud. We got twigs. We got bugs. We got plants. But most importantly we got Tadpoles. Lots and lots of tadpoles. Probably about twenty of the little buggers in all different sizes. We laughed and laughed and at one point K fell backwards into the water. His little rubber boots were full of water (he was thrilled as we walked back because he could hear his feet squishing in the boots!).
It seems that sometimes when we plan things too studiously we forget why we're there. And although our main goal last night was to catch the tadpoles, it was also to have fun. It was also so my son and I could bond. It was so I could teach him how to be a child and have fun in the country. It was so when he grows up he'll remember this and want to raise his own kids in the country. It's moments like this that reminds me why I wanted to be a mother. So that I could learn how to be a kid again!
The beauty of our house is we bought property from my family and built our own house. Its exactly what we want. On our property we have a pond. Not a spectacular pond and not a year round pond. More like a hole filled with water in our pasture... but we call it a pond so there ya go.
Well K's teacher sent a request to families to see if anyone could bring in some tadpoles for the class so they could watch them develop. Of course I immediately volunteered our pond and tadpoles for the adventure. K was very excited to go tromp down to the pond and look for the little suckers.
As a child, I fished for tadpoles from this very same pond. I was with my brother and best friend. We each got a bucket and tied a string to it. Then we got a rubber raft and floated out into the middle of the pond. We tossed those buckets into the water and pulled them out for hours. We had a blast! We got soaked! We got sunburns. We did not, however, catch any tadpoles. It's a memory that is still strong in my mind today.
I wanted to create those memories for my son. But I wanted a more successful outing then the one I shared with my brother. So we got our grubby clothes on. Put on our rubber boots. Grabbed our aquarium fish nets and trekked out into the pasture.
There is a creek that goes through the property leading to the pond... so since we were wearing our rubber boots... we walked right through the mud. And got stuck! K got his boots stuck and so did I. So I had to help him out and then try and free myself. We managed to get unstuck without loosing any boots or covering ourselves in mud.
When we got to the pond we started our fishing. It started out rather uneventfully. We would see a tadpole swim and try and catch it. That method sucked! We only caught one little tadpole. The water got muddy and then we couldn't see the tadpoles we were so studiously stalking. So we moved to another part of the pond... same results. Only this time, no tadpoles.
So I thought like a five year old. Who cares if we can see 'em. Who cares if we don't catch any. Let's have fun while we do it. Like throwing the bucket into the water from a raft. So we moved a little farther down the pond to a clear part of the water and just went to town. I told K to just scoop and see what he can get in his net.
And that's exactly what we did. We got mud. We got twigs. We got bugs. We got plants. But most importantly we got Tadpoles. Lots and lots of tadpoles. Probably about twenty of the little buggers in all different sizes. We laughed and laughed and at one point K fell backwards into the water. His little rubber boots were full of water (he was thrilled as we walked back because he could hear his feet squishing in the boots!).
It seems that sometimes when we plan things too studiously we forget why we're there. And although our main goal last night was to catch the tadpoles, it was also to have fun. It was also so my son and I could bond. It was so I could teach him how to be a child and have fun in the country. It was so when he grows up he'll remember this and want to raise his own kids in the country. It's moments like this that reminds me why I wanted to be a mother. So that I could learn how to be a kid again!
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Grow the F*@& up? Would ya?
Yeah that's right... I just swore! Now don't get me wrong, I don't swear a lot. OK, so I swear a modicum amount; but that's not the point. I try not to drop the F-Bomb unless I'm truly, TRULY, ticked off. Now this little item I'm about to rant on just frosts my nuts, on a pretty regular basis.
Where I work, I deal with teens trying to become adults. Now, as they try and become adults, there are certain things they have to accomplish to gain that maturity. Enter high school, get their permits, get their license, start dating, have their hearts broken, rebel against their parents... you know, typical teenage achievements.
However, it seems that parents don't want them to gain some of these milestones. I do understand that one! My kids are only 5 and 2 and their achievements scare the crap out of me! For example, my oldest is starting kindergarten in September. How the hell did that happen? My two year old is potty trained and now wants to go to the bathroom by himself! I say again... WTF?!?
So I do understand wanting to keep children being just that, children. But there comes a time when as the parent you have to let go. Like letting C go off to the bathroom by himself. Like letting K ride the school bus to kindergarten.
So here's the thing that pushes my buttons... When parents refuse to let that happen. When they are helping their kids try to become adults, but doing all the work for them. How does that work? How does that teach the child to become an adult? To do things for themselves?
As the child grows there are things you have to teach them. Going poop in the potty, how to speak, how to feed themselves, and these are things you cannot do for them. So why is it that as the child gets older and there are things you teach them you can do for them, some parents just do it! They stop teaching!
If you want your child to be driving a vehicle because they are 15, doesn't that mean they should be filling out their paperwork? Talking to the employee of DMV? They are becoming an adult and will be driving a 4000 pound hunk of metal down the road. They should be able to speak for themselves.
If you want your kids to start dating, doesn't that mean they need to have the ability to speak to the opposite sex? To treat the girls or boys with respect? Parents aren't going to be with their kids 24/7 so if you don't teach them to have a voice, how are they going to communicate with out you?
When they were little you helped your child learn how to speak. You taught them language now give them the skills to use that language. By doing everything for them, you are crippling the man or woman they will become. Stop speaking for them... let them find their voice!
Let them grow up and in the process, you will do the same. It'll make you a better teacher and a better parent.
Where I work, I deal with teens trying to become adults. Now, as they try and become adults, there are certain things they have to accomplish to gain that maturity. Enter high school, get their permits, get their license, start dating, have their hearts broken, rebel against their parents... you know, typical teenage achievements.
However, it seems that parents don't want them to gain some of these milestones. I do understand that one! My kids are only 5 and 2 and their achievements scare the crap out of me! For example, my oldest is starting kindergarten in September. How the hell did that happen? My two year old is potty trained and now wants to go to the bathroom by himself! I say again... WTF?!?
So I do understand wanting to keep children being just that, children. But there comes a time when as the parent you have to let go. Like letting C go off to the bathroom by himself. Like letting K ride the school bus to kindergarten.
So here's the thing that pushes my buttons... When parents refuse to let that happen. When they are helping their kids try to become adults, but doing all the work for them. How does that work? How does that teach the child to become an adult? To do things for themselves?
As the child grows there are things you have to teach them. Going poop in the potty, how to speak, how to feed themselves, and these are things you cannot do for them. So why is it that as the child gets older and there are things you teach them you can do for them, some parents just do it! They stop teaching!
If you want your child to be driving a vehicle because they are 15, doesn't that mean they should be filling out their paperwork? Talking to the employee of DMV? They are becoming an adult and will be driving a 4000 pound hunk of metal down the road. They should be able to speak for themselves.
If you want your kids to start dating, doesn't that mean they need to have the ability to speak to the opposite sex? To treat the girls or boys with respect? Parents aren't going to be with their kids 24/7 so if you don't teach them to have a voice, how are they going to communicate with out you?
When they were little you helped your child learn how to speak. You taught them language now give them the skills to use that language. By doing everything for them, you are crippling the man or woman they will become. Stop speaking for them... let them find their voice!
Let them grow up and in the process, you will do the same. It'll make you a better teacher and a better parent.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Work out, schmerk out!
The gym. Working out. Running. I hate it all.
My brother once said that going to the gym, running, lifting weights or just working out needs to be a priority. A priority for single people or people without little kids... that's what I say. Maybe that's harsh, but I have other priorities.
I like going to the gym and running. It actually makes me feel better when I'm done. I get why it should be important for people to take care of themselves. People should make it a priority. Get healthy, take care of themselves and work out. Frankly if I had more time in the day to actually go to the gym and work out I would. But I don't have that kind of time!
My brother seems to think it's just about "making it a priority" and doing it. OK, I say, sure... but what in my life should take a back seat? My husband? My kids? My house? My job? Let me tell you a typical day for me.
I get up in the morning and take K to school. By the time C and I get home it's 9 o'clock in the morning. I then have to make breakfast and get C to eat it. By the time he's done it's now 10. Depending on who's watching the boys that day I have about an hour to play with C.
Around 11 I take them over to my parents house (or leave for the great-grandparents house). I then leave around 11:20 and get K from school. It's only a short drive (about 15 minutes) to his school. I get him from class - and because of the Aurora shooting in December security is tightened (Thank God!) - and take him back to my parents. I drop him off there around noon. I then have to be to work at 12:30.
I work from 12:30 to 4:30. More often then not I have to work after that and don't leave until 5. Here is the prime opportunity to go to the gym. If I go to the gym I leave there around 5:30 - 6 (depending on when I get off work that is). Here however is what really happens...
I get off work and have to go to the grocery store to get food (usually only one night a week but sometimes two). Then two nights a week I have to take K to his swim class, which means if I get off work on time I have maybe an hour to myself or to hit the gym. However, we have to leave the house by 5:45 to get K to the pool before 6:20. Class gets done at 6:50 and by the time we change and get home it's 7:30. Then we eat dinner and get the kids in bed by 9.
So I basically have from 9 until when I go to bed... around midnight, to spend some grown up time with my husband. So that's my day... where do I have time to go to the gym? For a while it was right after work but my parents, in-laws and babysitter really want to be done and free of the kids after watching them for 6 hours or so. And frankly I want to be home with them and spend time with them!
I love my kids. I love my husband. I love my house. I love my dog. I like my job. So which of these things gets sacrificed so I can make working out a priority? Well I can tell you what thing gets sacrificed. The gym. I would rather be home with my family living our very hectic lives then running on a treadmill for an hour. I may not be the fittest or skinniest mom around... but I am around to spend time with my kids!
My brother once said that going to the gym, running, lifting weights or just working out needs to be a priority. A priority for single people or people without little kids... that's what I say. Maybe that's harsh, but I have other priorities.
I like going to the gym and running. It actually makes me feel better when I'm done. I get why it should be important for people to take care of themselves. People should make it a priority. Get healthy, take care of themselves and work out. Frankly if I had more time in the day to actually go to the gym and work out I would. But I don't have that kind of time!
My brother seems to think it's just about "making it a priority" and doing it. OK, I say, sure... but what in my life should take a back seat? My husband? My kids? My house? My job? Let me tell you a typical day for me.
I get up in the morning and take K to school. By the time C and I get home it's 9 o'clock in the morning. I then have to make breakfast and get C to eat it. By the time he's done it's now 10. Depending on who's watching the boys that day I have about an hour to play with C.
Around 11 I take them over to my parents house (or leave for the great-grandparents house). I then leave around 11:20 and get K from school. It's only a short drive (about 15 minutes) to his school. I get him from class - and because of the Aurora shooting in December security is tightened (Thank God!) - and take him back to my parents. I drop him off there around noon. I then have to be to work at 12:30.
I work from 12:30 to 4:30. More often then not I have to work after that and don't leave until 5. Here is the prime opportunity to go to the gym. If I go to the gym I leave there around 5:30 - 6 (depending on when I get off work that is). Here however is what really happens...
I get off work and have to go to the grocery store to get food (usually only one night a week but sometimes two). Then two nights a week I have to take K to his swim class, which means if I get off work on time I have maybe an hour to myself or to hit the gym. However, we have to leave the house by 5:45 to get K to the pool before 6:20. Class gets done at 6:50 and by the time we change and get home it's 7:30. Then we eat dinner and get the kids in bed by 9.
So I basically have from 9 until when I go to bed... around midnight, to spend some grown up time with my husband. So that's my day... where do I have time to go to the gym? For a while it was right after work but my parents, in-laws and babysitter really want to be done and free of the kids after watching them for 6 hours or so. And frankly I want to be home with them and spend time with them!
I love my kids. I love my husband. I love my house. I love my dog. I like my job. So which of these things gets sacrificed so I can make working out a priority? Well I can tell you what thing gets sacrificed. The gym. I would rather be home with my family living our very hectic lives then running on a treadmill for an hour. I may not be the fittest or skinniest mom around... but I am around to spend time with my kids!
Sunday, January 20, 2013
History Colliding
Tomorrow, January 21st 2013, is a very important and memorable day.
Tomorrow we celebrate the life and times of Martin Luther King Jr. We celebrate his life and what he helped this country to become. Some will argue that civil rights haven't come very far. But I disagree. Of course those that disagree might say I'm a privileged white woman, but hey... opinions are like assholes... every one's got one.
MLK Jr was a courageous man in a time of struggle. He was a baptist minister who fought for civil rights with out weapons. He used demonstrations, sit ins, speeches and marches to demonstrate his point. He was one of many leaders of the Montgomery Bus Boycott. This boycott ended racial segregation on buses in Montgomery and Alabama by a Supreme Court Ruling. Until the ruling black men and women were required to give their seats up to white people when they got on the bus. Rosa Parks sparked the boycott by refusing to relinquish her seat when a white person got on the bus. Martin Luther King was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts to end racial inequality with nonviolent means.
Dr. King was a great man. His life was cut short when he was assassinated on April 4th, 1968. He was killed because of his efforts in the civil rights movement. He was shot by a high power rifle. This event prompted riots and calls for peace for days.
Tomorrow we will also celebrate the inauguration of the President of the United States. President Barrack Obama is about to begin his second term as President. He won the election last November against Governor Mitt Romney.
President Obama is a black man. The first black President. Is that important information? To an extent; he's the first but other then that, no. The color of his skin should be irrelevant. But it is because of the work the Dr. King did in the 60's that our President is a black man. And he is also the reason it should be irrelevant. With out the efforts and contributions of Martin Luther King who is to say where our civil liberties would be... for man, woman or child?
Now it seems that President Obama wants to pass legislation regulating gun ownership in our country. Some people feel this is a huge violation of our civil liberties. Some people think this is important to safe guard our families and prevent automatic weapons, high powered rifles and extended magazines being sold to criminals.
What the plan is, is to keep these weapons out of the hands of criminals. To prevent killings in our schools or movie theaters or other public places. It's also to prevent shootings in private I'd guess. My question is how does making those things illegal stop criminals from using them? I mean after all... criminals by definition don't follow the law. So does that mean that the law abiding citizens are the ones that are going to suffer from this law? Is it a violation for our second amendment rights to bear arms? Should the government have the right to tell citizens what kind of guns they can or can't own to protect themselves and their loved ones? Only history can tell us how it'll turn out.
It seems ironic to me that tomorrow we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King who's life was spent trying to up hold civil liberties for all and who's life was taken by a high powered rifle. And we celebrate a Presidents new term in office when he wants to cut civil liberties by taking away high powered rifles. It's something to think about how the histories we celebrate tomorrow are colliding. How one man has come to such great heights because of another mans efforts and death. And how that mans efforts at maintaining civil liberties seems to be being cut short by a man who owes his rise in power to that effort.
Tomorrow we celebrate the life and times of Martin Luther King Jr. We celebrate his life and what he helped this country to become. Some will argue that civil rights haven't come very far. But I disagree. Of course those that disagree might say I'm a privileged white woman, but hey... opinions are like assholes... every one's got one.
MLK Jr was a courageous man in a time of struggle. He was a baptist minister who fought for civil rights with out weapons. He used demonstrations, sit ins, speeches and marches to demonstrate his point. He was one of many leaders of the Montgomery Bus Boycott. This boycott ended racial segregation on buses in Montgomery and Alabama by a Supreme Court Ruling. Until the ruling black men and women were required to give their seats up to white people when they got on the bus. Rosa Parks sparked the boycott by refusing to relinquish her seat when a white person got on the bus. Martin Luther King was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts to end racial inequality with nonviolent means.
Dr. King was a great man. His life was cut short when he was assassinated on April 4th, 1968. He was killed because of his efforts in the civil rights movement. He was shot by a high power rifle. This event prompted riots and calls for peace for days.
Tomorrow we will also celebrate the inauguration of the President of the United States. President Barrack Obama is about to begin his second term as President. He won the election last November against Governor Mitt Romney.
President Obama is a black man. The first black President. Is that important information? To an extent; he's the first but other then that, no. The color of his skin should be irrelevant. But it is because of the work the Dr. King did in the 60's that our President is a black man. And he is also the reason it should be irrelevant. With out the efforts and contributions of Martin Luther King who is to say where our civil liberties would be... for man, woman or child?
Now it seems that President Obama wants to pass legislation regulating gun ownership in our country. Some people feel this is a huge violation of our civil liberties. Some people think this is important to safe guard our families and prevent automatic weapons, high powered rifles and extended magazines being sold to criminals.
What the plan is, is to keep these weapons out of the hands of criminals. To prevent killings in our schools or movie theaters or other public places. It's also to prevent shootings in private I'd guess. My question is how does making those things illegal stop criminals from using them? I mean after all... criminals by definition don't follow the law. So does that mean that the law abiding citizens are the ones that are going to suffer from this law? Is it a violation for our second amendment rights to bear arms? Should the government have the right to tell citizens what kind of guns they can or can't own to protect themselves and their loved ones? Only history can tell us how it'll turn out.
It seems ironic to me that tomorrow we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King who's life was spent trying to up hold civil liberties for all and who's life was taken by a high powered rifle. And we celebrate a Presidents new term in office when he wants to cut civil liberties by taking away high powered rifles. It's something to think about how the histories we celebrate tomorrow are colliding. How one man has come to such great heights because of another mans efforts and death. And how that mans efforts at maintaining civil liberties seems to be being cut short by a man who owes his rise in power to that effort.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
What the FRENCH TOAST!
So this is going to be a vent session... and hopefully a lesson will emerge. Otherwise, at least I won't have a heart attack from the rage!
This is the Holiday Season. This means that people are supposed to reflect on and appreciate what they have. And maybe just maybe give to others. Now what you're supposed to give is any number of things... help, presents, money, friendship, love, etc. You are not supposed to give other people crap!
I understand that what I do for a living isn't important. It's not even something I enjoy doing, but it's a job. I understand that some of the people in my life have jobs that are important - police officer, teacher - and that's wonderful. They can give back to the community every day.
Well let me tell you something... my job may not be important but my career is! My career is being a mom. My career is being here for my sons and taking care of them. Making sure they are safe, loved and know that their mother is here for them.
I had an important job once. A job that saved lives. I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher. I loved that job. I could have retired at that job. However, I had to make a choice. Family or job. This is a choice a lot of women have to make. Some choose not to have a family. Some choose both. In my case I couldn't stay at the dispatch center and have a family. I never saw my husband - he worked days with weekends off and I worked graves with weekdays off. Not seeing him makes it pretty hard to have kids.
So I made the choice to leave a job that was "important" for one that certainly wasn't. But my job gave me the opportunity to have the two wonderful boys I have now and begin the career of being their mother.
Does that mean that what I do every day is less important then the rest of my family? Does that mean because I left a job that was important I am less important in the lives of my family? Sometimes I feel that's exactly what that means.
You see, maybe I shouldn't have been hurt by this, but I was. Someone posted on Facebook about how they received a tree for free for Christmas (in honor of the 26 kids in Connecticut). They went on to say how and I quote "one of my kids is a first responder, one is helping buddies put a roof on the house of a family in need and we have an elementary school teacher in the family. You get the picture."
Now there are four kids in the family and only three are mentioned. What does that say to the one left out? It tells me what I do isn't important. What I do in respect to this world is unimportant. That angers me. What I do is teach my boys whats important in life. I teach them to respect others, to care about others and to give to others when we can in any way we can.
I don't advertise when I do something for other people. It's not about the recognition. It's not about the thank yous or the kudos or the job well done. It's about teaching my children right and wrong. Teaching them to be caring individuals. But I will give you an example of what I taught them this year.
This year we donated toys to the children's pediatric unit at our local hospital. I took both boys down to the store and they got to pick out several toys they thought would be fun. We then went down and donated them. We left them at the Bank that was collecting them. The boys had fun. I had fun. It was an important lesson for them to learn. There were no kudos, props or adda boys. It is because I only work part time and can spend the rest of my time with them, that I am able to teach them these kinds of lessons.
Isn't that what this season is all about?
This is the Holiday Season. This means that people are supposed to reflect on and appreciate what they have. And maybe just maybe give to others. Now what you're supposed to give is any number of things... help, presents, money, friendship, love, etc. You are not supposed to give other people crap!
I understand that what I do for a living isn't important. It's not even something I enjoy doing, but it's a job. I understand that some of the people in my life have jobs that are important - police officer, teacher - and that's wonderful. They can give back to the community every day.
Well let me tell you something... my job may not be important but my career is! My career is being a mom. My career is being here for my sons and taking care of them. Making sure they are safe, loved and know that their mother is here for them.
I had an important job once. A job that saved lives. I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher. I loved that job. I could have retired at that job. However, I had to make a choice. Family or job. This is a choice a lot of women have to make. Some choose not to have a family. Some choose both. In my case I couldn't stay at the dispatch center and have a family. I never saw my husband - he worked days with weekends off and I worked graves with weekdays off. Not seeing him makes it pretty hard to have kids.
So I made the choice to leave a job that was "important" for one that certainly wasn't. But my job gave me the opportunity to have the two wonderful boys I have now and begin the career of being their mother.
Does that mean that what I do every day is less important then the rest of my family? Does that mean because I left a job that was important I am less important in the lives of my family? Sometimes I feel that's exactly what that means.
You see, maybe I shouldn't have been hurt by this, but I was. Someone posted on Facebook about how they received a tree for free for Christmas (in honor of the 26 kids in Connecticut). They went on to say how and I quote "one of my kids is a first responder, one is helping buddies put a roof on the house of a family in need and we have an elementary school teacher in the family. You get the picture."
Now there are four kids in the family and only three are mentioned. What does that say to the one left out? It tells me what I do isn't important. What I do in respect to this world is unimportant. That angers me. What I do is teach my boys whats important in life. I teach them to respect others, to care about others and to give to others when we can in any way we can.
I don't advertise when I do something for other people. It's not about the recognition. It's not about the thank yous or the kudos or the job well done. It's about teaching my children right and wrong. Teaching them to be caring individuals. But I will give you an example of what I taught them this year.
This year we donated toys to the children's pediatric unit at our local hospital. I took both boys down to the store and they got to pick out several toys they thought would be fun. We then went down and donated them. We left them at the Bank that was collecting them. The boys had fun. I had fun. It was an important lesson for them to learn. There were no kudos, props or adda boys. It is because I only work part time and can spend the rest of my time with them, that I am able to teach them these kinds of lessons.
Isn't that what this season is all about?
Friday, December 7, 2012
The Season of Giving
I have recently been confronted by my brother about the amount of "stuff" we give each other. And by each other he means all of us (mom, dad, hubby, K, C, bro, his fiance, etc.). He thinks that we should donate the money we would spend on "stuff". That instead of buying for ourselves we should give the money to a good cause like Susan G. Komen or Dive For a Cure or even our local humane society or animal shelter. I think these are all great ideas. In fact we donate to CASA every year and I'm more then happy to do that.
And while I understand his point, do we really need more stuff? I have a different point...
I don't CARE! I love Christmas. I love giving gifts to my family. I love looking for the perfect gifts for my husband and kids. The perfect gifts for my parents and brother. I LOVE it. I like to go shopping looking for the perfect gifts that I know they will love. It has nothing to do with reciprocation. It has to with my joy at going out and doing that. The hunt for the perfect gifts. I also will not deprive my children of a joyful holiday.
And please note I did say gifts. I don't give just one. I can't. This time of year is about me being able to spread joy and happiness to those around me. I find things for people and I only get to do this once a year. I'm going to enjoy it.
Of course, as I type this I realize I may sound superficial. I mean after all who needs all those "things". But I donate old things that I don't use or wear to St. Vincent de Paul. I have a rule in my house. If I get a new t-shirt, an old one gets put in the PJ drawer and one of those goes to the donation pile. I try and do the same with the boys toys.
I am going to start something new this year. I'm going to take the boys and buy gifts from the Giving Tree. I want them to experience buying gifts for others. Knowing that by giving these gifts they are giving someone who's in need and may not get a gift otherwise. I'm excited for this new tradition to start in our family.
I guess my point is this. Now while I understand and support his point, it's not for me. I will still donate money to any number of charities, but I will not stop buying presents for my family. The Christmas season is about giving and that's exactly what I love about it!
And while I understand his point, do we really need more stuff? I have a different point...
I don't CARE! I love Christmas. I love giving gifts to my family. I love looking for the perfect gifts for my husband and kids. The perfect gifts for my parents and brother. I LOVE it. I like to go shopping looking for the perfect gifts that I know they will love. It has nothing to do with reciprocation. It has to with my joy at going out and doing that. The hunt for the perfect gifts. I also will not deprive my children of a joyful holiday.
And please note I did say gifts. I don't give just one. I can't. This time of year is about me being able to spread joy and happiness to those around me. I find things for people and I only get to do this once a year. I'm going to enjoy it.
Of course, as I type this I realize I may sound superficial. I mean after all who needs all those "things". But I donate old things that I don't use or wear to St. Vincent de Paul. I have a rule in my house. If I get a new t-shirt, an old one gets put in the PJ drawer and one of those goes to the donation pile. I try and do the same with the boys toys.
I am going to start something new this year. I'm going to take the boys and buy gifts from the Giving Tree. I want them to experience buying gifts for others. Knowing that by giving these gifts they are giving someone who's in need and may not get a gift otherwise. I'm excited for this new tradition to start in our family.
I guess my point is this. Now while I understand and support his point, it's not for me. I will still donate money to any number of charities, but I will not stop buying presents for my family. The Christmas season is about giving and that's exactly what I love about it!
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Get out and VOTE!
Today is a very important day. It's about getting out and voting. Tonight this country - well divided I might add - got to vote for the next President of The United States. As we sat around the dinner table tonight and the TV played in the background we talked about the local elections as well. However, this countries most important job, Commander in Chief is what I was really interested in.
Now I'm sitting here watching the acceptance speech. It doesn't matter anymore if you voted for President Obama or if you voted for Governor Romney. It's been decided the people have spoken. President Obama has been reelected.
It doesn't matter how I voted. In fact I don't share how I voted with people. That is one of the beautiful things about America... the secret ballot. You don't have to advertise who you voted for. I'm proud I voted. I did it. My voice made a difference!
I do wish Oregon still went to the voting booths like other states. Here, everyone votes by mail. I voted weeks ago. Even if you have to wait in line 3 hours to get your voice heard or, like me, you got your voice heard 3 weeks in advance... it's worth it. It's important. It's your civic duty.
How did the local folks do? Peter DeFazio was reelected. Kate Brown remains our Secretary of State. Looks like Betty Taylor got reelected as Eugene city councilor.
Local measures? Bethel School District got their money. Springfield Public Safety got their money. Oregonians said no to a Private Casino in Portland. See I paid attention to more then just the Presidential election. Voting is about more then just the CEO of the country. It's about the little city councilors too.
After dinner we were sitting on the couch watching the results come in and I called K over to me. I felt so blessed to be able to talk to him about what was going on. How important this evening was in American history. We elected the 44th President of The United States. To be honest, I don't think he got it... he's only 4. But it's never to early to talk about how voting is an essential American right. He looked at me like I was crazy, but he asked questions and said it was cool.
And you know what, he's right. It IS cool! I voted. I hope you did too. It's downright American! This is the Greatest Nation on Earth. God Bless these United States!
Now I'm sitting here watching the acceptance speech. It doesn't matter anymore if you voted for President Obama or if you voted for Governor Romney. It's been decided the people have spoken. President Obama has been reelected.
It doesn't matter how I voted. In fact I don't share how I voted with people. That is one of the beautiful things about America... the secret ballot. You don't have to advertise who you voted for. I'm proud I voted. I did it. My voice made a difference!
I do wish Oregon still went to the voting booths like other states. Here, everyone votes by mail. I voted weeks ago. Even if you have to wait in line 3 hours to get your voice heard or, like me, you got your voice heard 3 weeks in advance... it's worth it. It's important. It's your civic duty.
How did the local folks do? Peter DeFazio was reelected. Kate Brown remains our Secretary of State. Looks like Betty Taylor got reelected as Eugene city councilor.
Local measures? Bethel School District got their money. Springfield Public Safety got their money. Oregonians said no to a Private Casino in Portland. See I paid attention to more then just the Presidential election. Voting is about more then just the CEO of the country. It's about the little city councilors too.
After dinner we were sitting on the couch watching the results come in and I called K over to me. I felt so blessed to be able to talk to him about what was going on. How important this evening was in American history. We elected the 44th President of The United States. To be honest, I don't think he got it... he's only 4. But it's never to early to talk about how voting is an essential American right. He looked at me like I was crazy, but he asked questions and said it was cool.
And you know what, he's right. It IS cool! I voted. I hope you did too. It's downright American! This is the Greatest Nation on Earth. God Bless these United States!
Friday, November 2, 2012
Older then dirt... ok, not really but come on...
Today is my birthday. Am I happy about it? No, not really. Frankly, I'm a bit indifferent. It seems as we age things seem to matter less. You know, like aging. Of course I know I'm not old. I'm only 35, but I feel older then dirt. My kids are 4 and 2 and that makes me feel older then my years.
I think about celebrating my birthday and all I want to do is curl up in bed and not get out. Sleep all day, drink a mocha and watch movies. I, frankly, don't like celebrating my birthday. I would rather the day go by without notice. Maybe that's because my brother (younger by 18 months) teases me that I'm older then dirt. I just would rather not even recognize it.
For my 30th birthday my parents and husband wanted to throw me a huge party. I however, just wanted to ignore it. Seems no one would let me do that - and they still don't. So I told my mother NO PARTIES! I didn't want some big who ha. If they had a party for me I was leaving. I wouldn't be staying around for anything like that. In fact I was hoping to go to go to Las Vegas with my husband and some friends. Just hang out and have some grown up time. Of course this was before I had kids. My mother told me if I was pregnant she wouldn't throw me a 30th birthday party. I just laughed at her. I shouldn't have. Turns out I was 8 months pregnant for my 30th birthday. No party and No Vegas. But it was low key at home instead. It wasn't too shabby.
But if no one noticed my birthday and if no one said "Happy Birthday" that would make me sad. I woke up this morning and had half a dozen texts wishing me happy birthday and got another half dozen before the night was out. I also spent an hour reading Facebook messages that my friends and family had left for me on my timeline. Gotta be honest, other then the spaghetti dinner, those were the highlight of my day.
I know I'm a contradiction in terms. In one breath saying I'd rather it go unnoticed and in the next saying how much I enjoyed being acknowledged. It just goes to show how important birthdays really are. I guess if I'm going to leave a message about birthdays to my kids it's this:
You may feel older then dirt, but when the dust settles, the family and friends around you who celebrate with you are what keep you young. So celebrate, enjoy the day and know age is only a number. How you choose to live your life is a lot more telling then how many years you've been on this earth!
I think about celebrating my birthday and all I want to do is curl up in bed and not get out. Sleep all day, drink a mocha and watch movies. I, frankly, don't like celebrating my birthday. I would rather the day go by without notice. Maybe that's because my brother (younger by 18 months) teases me that I'm older then dirt. I just would rather not even recognize it.
For my 30th birthday my parents and husband wanted to throw me a huge party. I however, just wanted to ignore it. Seems no one would let me do that - and they still don't. So I told my mother NO PARTIES! I didn't want some big who ha. If they had a party for me I was leaving. I wouldn't be staying around for anything like that. In fact I was hoping to go to go to Las Vegas with my husband and some friends. Just hang out and have some grown up time. Of course this was before I had kids. My mother told me if I was pregnant she wouldn't throw me a 30th birthday party. I just laughed at her. I shouldn't have. Turns out I was 8 months pregnant for my 30th birthday. No party and No Vegas. But it was low key at home instead. It wasn't too shabby.
But if no one noticed my birthday and if no one said "Happy Birthday" that would make me sad. I woke up this morning and had half a dozen texts wishing me happy birthday and got another half dozen before the night was out. I also spent an hour reading Facebook messages that my friends and family had left for me on my timeline. Gotta be honest, other then the spaghetti dinner, those were the highlight of my day.
I know I'm a contradiction in terms. In one breath saying I'd rather it go unnoticed and in the next saying how much I enjoyed being acknowledged. It just goes to show how important birthdays really are. I guess if I'm going to leave a message about birthdays to my kids it's this:
You may feel older then dirt, but when the dust settles, the family and friends around you who celebrate with you are what keep you young. So celebrate, enjoy the day and know age is only a number. How you choose to live your life is a lot more telling then how many years you've been on this earth!
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Trick-or-Treat whore? I think not.
That's right. Tonight is Halloween. It's a wonderful night and I love dressing up like a crazy Bronco fan and taking the kiddos out. However, if when my kids get bigger, if they act or dress the way some of those kids did tonight... I will kill them. No ifs, ands or butts. I will kill them.
I'm talking about the young girls that dress up like hookers. The young boys who don't even put effort into dressing up. The kids who are old enough to drive door to door. The kids that when you open the door say, "Give me some candy!"
First of all, lets address the clothing. Today my kids dressed as astronauts. They were so cute with their little orange jump suits. Every house we went to, the people knew exactly what my kids were dressed as. There was NO question. Last year, they were dragons. These are costumes that kids should wear on Halloween.
As we left my brothers house we saw to young girls walking down the street. They were wearing fish net stalkings and their skirts were so high you could see their cheekers. That's right, their butt cheeks. REALLY?!? Just because it's Halloween and you can dress up, at least wear some clothes. Now don't get me wrong. I own fishnet stalkings and I wear them to work. But I wear them with skirts to my knee and boots. Not 6 inch heels and boy shorts. PLEASE!
My kids saw them and K said "they're not scary at all... What are they supposed to be anyway?"
I was stymied. What do I say, hookers? How do I explain that to a 4 year old? My husband - ever the one with quick wit - replied "college girls..."
K just said, "ah... ok..."
That's what I'm talking about. Really? Since when does hooker clothes equal a Halloween costume? Apparently, I'm too old for this.
Second let's talk about the demand for candy. That's right... Demand. Since when is it your right to come to my house and have me give you candy. Isn't it something I'm choosing to do for you? Something that I'm doing for you as a kindness?
If I hear one more kid going up, ringing the bell - over and over again until someone answers, or banging on the door repeatedly then demand candy when the door opens I'm gonna pop them upside the head. I know if some teen had come up to my door and demanded candy they would have got the... "I'm sorry you're too old to be trick-or-treating and I'm out of candy..." Really?!?
Also just a side note, but if you can drive to the neighborhood you're going trick-or-treating in... YOU ARE TOO OLD! Go to a party with your friends. Have friends over and play games. Go to a friends house and watch some old school horror movies. But for the love of GOD, don't go out and ask people for candy. Trick-or-treating is for small kids, not you. Get a job and go buy yourself some candy!
I guess its all a matter of youthful teenage stupidity. But God help my children if I find out when they are teens that they act this stupid. They will be one hot mess when I'm done with them. I'm just sayin.
I'm talking about the young girls that dress up like hookers. The young boys who don't even put effort into dressing up. The kids who are old enough to drive door to door. The kids that when you open the door say, "Give me some candy!"
First of all, lets address the clothing. Today my kids dressed as astronauts. They were so cute with their little orange jump suits. Every house we went to, the people knew exactly what my kids were dressed as. There was NO question. Last year, they were dragons. These are costumes that kids should wear on Halloween.
As we left my brothers house we saw to young girls walking down the street. They were wearing fish net stalkings and their skirts were so high you could see their cheekers. That's right, their butt cheeks. REALLY?!? Just because it's Halloween and you can dress up, at least wear some clothes. Now don't get me wrong. I own fishnet stalkings and I wear them to work. But I wear them with skirts to my knee and boots. Not 6 inch heels and boy shorts. PLEASE!
My kids saw them and K said "they're not scary at all... What are they supposed to be anyway?"
I was stymied. What do I say, hookers? How do I explain that to a 4 year old? My husband - ever the one with quick wit - replied "college girls..."
K just said, "ah... ok..."
That's what I'm talking about. Really? Since when does hooker clothes equal a Halloween costume? Apparently, I'm too old for this.
Second let's talk about the demand for candy. That's right... Demand. Since when is it your right to come to my house and have me give you candy. Isn't it something I'm choosing to do for you? Something that I'm doing for you as a kindness?
If I hear one more kid going up, ringing the bell - over and over again until someone answers, or banging on the door repeatedly then demand candy when the door opens I'm gonna pop them upside the head. I know if some teen had come up to my door and demanded candy they would have got the... "I'm sorry you're too old to be trick-or-treating and I'm out of candy..." Really?!?
Also just a side note, but if you can drive to the neighborhood you're going trick-or-treating in... YOU ARE TOO OLD! Go to a party with your friends. Have friends over and play games. Go to a friends house and watch some old school horror movies. But for the love of GOD, don't go out and ask people for candy. Trick-or-treating is for small kids, not you. Get a job and go buy yourself some candy!
I guess its all a matter of youthful teenage stupidity. But God help my children if I find out when they are teens that they act this stupid. They will be one hot mess when I'm done with them. I'm just sayin.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Say HELLO! I'm bat shit crazy!
I started this blog a while ago. As kind of a way to keep track of things I think that are important for my kids to know in the future. A way for me to tell them things, just in case I'm not here to tell them later. You never know what could happen to you tomorrow. So I decided to reach out and say "HELLO!" to the world.
Will my blog be read? I dunno. Will it matter to me if the only ones that ever read this are my kids? Yeah. I want this to be helpful to more then just my kids. I want this to be helpful to others as well. Will I tell my kids, family and friends I'm writing this? Not yet. I don't know how I'll do. I'm not sure I'm going to keep this up. But then again, I just might. At that point I'll tell them. For now, it's just me and the millions of people out there that read blogs. Or then again, back to the first question, maybe just me.
I don't get to write this blog every day. I'm a busy mother of two toddlers and a pain in the butt dog and I have a husband I have to help along the way. I love my family, my mother and father live near by, as do my in laws. My brother just moved home from Alaska. My whole family is here and it's incredible. I love them all. It makes my life fuller.
It seems to me, as I sit here late at night writing, that my life is pretty awesome. My kids are fantastic, even when they're driving me bat shit crazy. My husband loves me, doesn't cheat on me and provides for our family, even when he's driving me bat shit crazy. My parents and brother are alive and well... even when they too drive me bat shit crazy. It makes me wonder if there are perfect families out there. I doubt it. Those that think they are are full of crap! No life is perfect. Awesome yes, but perfect no.
Are there things in life I would change? Sure, who wouldn't change things in their life for the better. But as I sit here tonight, my husband snoring peacefully on the couch beside me, I realize I love my life and I wouldn't change the choices I've made along the way for anything. Those choices, good and bad, made me who I am. Those choices are the reason I have the husband I do and the kiddos I do. Even though they make me bat shit crazy on a daily basis. I just have to figure out how to clean up the guano and move to the next day... And shout "HELLO!" to the world!
Will my blog be read? I dunno. Will it matter to me if the only ones that ever read this are my kids? Yeah. I want this to be helpful to more then just my kids. I want this to be helpful to others as well. Will I tell my kids, family and friends I'm writing this? Not yet. I don't know how I'll do. I'm not sure I'm going to keep this up. But then again, I just might. At that point I'll tell them. For now, it's just me and the millions of people out there that read blogs. Or then again, back to the first question, maybe just me.
I don't get to write this blog every day. I'm a busy mother of two toddlers and a pain in the butt dog and I have a husband I have to help along the way. I love my family, my mother and father live near by, as do my in laws. My brother just moved home from Alaska. My whole family is here and it's incredible. I love them all. It makes my life fuller.
It seems to me, as I sit here late at night writing, that my life is pretty awesome. My kids are fantastic, even when they're driving me bat shit crazy. My husband loves me, doesn't cheat on me and provides for our family, even when he's driving me bat shit crazy. My parents and brother are alive and well... even when they too drive me bat shit crazy. It makes me wonder if there are perfect families out there. I doubt it. Those that think they are are full of crap! No life is perfect. Awesome yes, but perfect no.
Are there things in life I would change? Sure, who wouldn't change things in their life for the better. But as I sit here tonight, my husband snoring peacefully on the couch beside me, I realize I love my life and I wouldn't change the choices I've made along the way for anything. Those choices, good and bad, made me who I am. Those choices are the reason I have the husband I do and the kiddos I do. Even though they make me bat shit crazy on a daily basis. I just have to figure out how to clean up the guano and move to the next day... And shout "HELLO!" to the world!
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Loved ones...
I know it's been a while, I've been busy. But recently I've discovered exactly what "Loved Ones" means. Now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, brother, sister, mom, dad, aunt, uncle, grandparents, etc. However, our dogs are also our Loved Ones.
My lovely dog Mulder is 11 years old. She is my first baby and my only girl. When she dies I will be the only girl in a family full of boys. She has some medical issues and it seems she is deteriorating fast. She has spondilosis of the spine and degenerative nerve disorder of the spine. She is having trouble walking. Trouble standing. Trouble being a dog.
Tonight we went and bought her a wheelchair. We are going to put it on her tomorrow and see how she does with it. This is going to change her life and her routines and it's going to change our lives and how we treat her. I'm not sure yet how, but I know it.
Now we bought this wheelchair used and cheap compared to its new price. Don't get me wrong. I would have paid twice it's value if I knew for sure it would work for her. I just don't know yet. Only time will tell. It's like when the vet told me she could have this degenerative nerve disorder. The only way to know for sure is by a very expensive test (thousands of dollars). Sure I'd pay it, but would it make a difference for her? The answer was a resounding NO! If she has it (and I'm sure she does) there is nothing they could do for her knowing or not. So why on earth would I pay that money. If I knew there was a surgery out there that would fix her and give her a longer life, I'd do it despite the cost.
That's what we do for our Loved Ones. We love them and do anything for them. My dog, my Mulder-Roo is one of the most important people in my lives. She's kept me sane. She's comforted me when I was sad. She's comforted my children when they were sick. I remember when we brought her home. I remember staying up worried about her because I thought she had a fever and she was just a puppy sleeping and being warm. I remember my fun loving, gregarious puppy and now I have my old and loving dog who would still do anything for me.
Now I recognize that dogs are not our kids. I know that dogs are not people and there are only certain extents we can go to for them. But I would do anything for my baby girl. Just like I would do anything for my baby boys. I just hope that I can help her feel better with this wheelchair and her meds.
Because that's what we do for Loved Ones. Anything we can. Be it man or beast we love.
My lovely dog Mulder is 11 years old. She is my first baby and my only girl. When she dies I will be the only girl in a family full of boys. She has some medical issues and it seems she is deteriorating fast. She has spondilosis of the spine and degenerative nerve disorder of the spine. She is having trouble walking. Trouble standing. Trouble being a dog.
Tonight we went and bought her a wheelchair. We are going to put it on her tomorrow and see how she does with it. This is going to change her life and her routines and it's going to change our lives and how we treat her. I'm not sure yet how, but I know it.
Now we bought this wheelchair used and cheap compared to its new price. Don't get me wrong. I would have paid twice it's value if I knew for sure it would work for her. I just don't know yet. Only time will tell. It's like when the vet told me she could have this degenerative nerve disorder. The only way to know for sure is by a very expensive test (thousands of dollars). Sure I'd pay it, but would it make a difference for her? The answer was a resounding NO! If she has it (and I'm sure she does) there is nothing they could do for her knowing or not. So why on earth would I pay that money. If I knew there was a surgery out there that would fix her and give her a longer life, I'd do it despite the cost.
That's what we do for our Loved Ones. We love them and do anything for them. My dog, my Mulder-Roo is one of the most important people in my lives. She's kept me sane. She's comforted me when I was sad. She's comforted my children when they were sick. I remember when we brought her home. I remember staying up worried about her because I thought she had a fever and she was just a puppy sleeping and being warm. I remember my fun loving, gregarious puppy and now I have my old and loving dog who would still do anything for me.
Now I recognize that dogs are not our kids. I know that dogs are not people and there are only certain extents we can go to for them. But I would do anything for my baby girl. Just like I would do anything for my baby boys. I just hope that I can help her feel better with this wheelchair and her meds.
Because that's what we do for Loved Ones. Anything we can. Be it man or beast we love.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Babysitters
Babysitters. A necessity. An unfortunate necessity that I have finally come to realize I need. Not that babysitters are bad. Not at all. I was a babysitter. But I now understand the parents wanting me to answer the phone, have Red Cross training and be punctual.
Today was a first in our house. A babysitter. Not that my kids were only watched by family up until this point. They had their favorite Nanny Amie to keep them company last summer. She was wonderful and was actually one of the kids I babysat. Life certainly does come around full circle. But Nanny Amie graduated college and figured out what she wanted to be when she grew up - and it was not a full time Nanny. So that left me with a conundrum and find a new sitter.
I didn't want to put them in day care so I needed to find someone to come to my house and watch my two angels (or demons depending on their moods). Well the worry wart in me was freaking out. How do I find someone? Well, I did. I found someone.
Today was the trial run. Erin came over to my house (after a rave recommendation from a friend of mine). I snuck out of the house so C didn't freak out and collapse on the ground in tears. I was so worried all day. How were my babies doing. I tried calling and no one answered. I was worried. But like I said, this was a trial run. My mom was right next door in case of emergency. And about 20 minutes later I called back, and got an answer. It was a relief.
When I got home I asked both kids if they had fun and if they wanted Erin to come back and play with them. They both answered with a resounding "YES". So I guess that is also a glowing recommendation and Erin will be coming back.
The only problem I had was my own unease. I know, I have no doubt, things will be just fine this August when my parents are gone. I have no doubt the boys will be fine and safe in my house with Erin. I also have no doubt I will worry the whole time they are out of my supervision with her - or anyone. That unfortunately, is the nature of being a mother. You worry and no one will take better care of your children then you. NO ONE.
Today was a first in our house. A babysitter. Not that my kids were only watched by family up until this point. They had their favorite Nanny Amie to keep them company last summer. She was wonderful and was actually one of the kids I babysat. Life certainly does come around full circle. But Nanny Amie graduated college and figured out what she wanted to be when she grew up - and it was not a full time Nanny. So that left me with a conundrum and find a new sitter.
I didn't want to put them in day care so I needed to find someone to come to my house and watch my two angels (or demons depending on their moods). Well the worry wart in me was freaking out. How do I find someone? Well, I did. I found someone.
Today was the trial run. Erin came over to my house (after a rave recommendation from a friend of mine). I snuck out of the house so C didn't freak out and collapse on the ground in tears. I was so worried all day. How were my babies doing. I tried calling and no one answered. I was worried. But like I said, this was a trial run. My mom was right next door in case of emergency. And about 20 minutes later I called back, and got an answer. It was a relief.
When I got home I asked both kids if they had fun and if they wanted Erin to come back and play with them. They both answered with a resounding "YES". So I guess that is also a glowing recommendation and Erin will be coming back.
The only problem I had was my own unease. I know, I have no doubt, things will be just fine this August when my parents are gone. I have no doubt the boys will be fine and safe in my house with Erin. I also have no doubt I will worry the whole time they are out of my supervision with her - or anyone. That unfortunately, is the nature of being a mother. You worry and no one will take better care of your children then you. NO ONE.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Preschool pain
So when I took K to preschool for the first time in September I wasn't sure who would suffer more. Him or me. Turns out, me. Not that I'm too surprised by that fact. I was expecting to suffer more then he did, I just didn't expect his reaction. AT ALL!
When we went to school that first day I was expecting tears. I was expecting a little boy to clutch my leg and beg me not to go. I was expecting to have to stay in the parking lot for the four hours he was there, just in case he needed me. Boy was I wrong. There were no tears. There was no errant clutching of my leg and certainly no begging. I didn't have to stay in the parking lot all morning wondering if he needed me. I did however have to stay in the parking lot and wait until the tears flowing down my cheeks stopped.
I wasn't crying because I was said. I wasn't crying because I'd left him the caring hands of Miss Rebekah. I wasn't crying because K hadn't cried. I was crying because I was relieved he was so secure being there. I was crying because I knew he was safe. I was crying because I had raised him secure enough in himself that he was ok in a strange environment.
Does that sound strange. It shouldn't. Ultimately I was crying because he didn't need me. I felt utterly un-needed by my almost four year old boy that I couldn't help but cry. I was so proud of him. So proud that he was able to be in that room with kids his own age and learn. My heart was singing his praise as I pulled out of that parking lot.
I rediscovered that feeling of pride and overwhelming sadness this week when I dropped him off at summer camp. He was going to be there all day. His first all day at being away from home. I was scared stiff! I had my cell phone on me the whole day and kept checking it, just to be sure if the school called I could get to him immediately!
But that call never came. That call was never made. K had a blast. He had so much fun in fact... he didn't want to leave when I came to pick him up. He started crying - no sobbing is the more accurate word - and yelling that he wanted to stay. That he didn't want to go. He curled up on the floor totally distraught.
I was thrilled that he had had such a good time. I was tickled pink he hadn't needed me. I was beyond excited to know that he could have such a wonderful time and not want to end that time.
I wasn't sure who hurt more on either of those days. I know he wasn't traumatized by the experience, but I can't say the same for me. I just hope when C starts preschool I'll be a little less traumatized. But... I doubt it!
When we went to school that first day I was expecting tears. I was expecting a little boy to clutch my leg and beg me not to go. I was expecting to have to stay in the parking lot for the four hours he was there, just in case he needed me. Boy was I wrong. There were no tears. There was no errant clutching of my leg and certainly no begging. I didn't have to stay in the parking lot all morning wondering if he needed me. I did however have to stay in the parking lot and wait until the tears flowing down my cheeks stopped.
I wasn't crying because I was said. I wasn't crying because I'd left him the caring hands of Miss Rebekah. I wasn't crying because K hadn't cried. I was crying because I was relieved he was so secure being there. I was crying because I knew he was safe. I was crying because I had raised him secure enough in himself that he was ok in a strange environment.
Does that sound strange. It shouldn't. Ultimately I was crying because he didn't need me. I felt utterly un-needed by my almost four year old boy that I couldn't help but cry. I was so proud of him. So proud that he was able to be in that room with kids his own age and learn. My heart was singing his praise as I pulled out of that parking lot.
I rediscovered that feeling of pride and overwhelming sadness this week when I dropped him off at summer camp. He was going to be there all day. His first all day at being away from home. I was scared stiff! I had my cell phone on me the whole day and kept checking it, just to be sure if the school called I could get to him immediately!
But that call never came. That call was never made. K had a blast. He had so much fun in fact... he didn't want to leave when I came to pick him up. He started crying - no sobbing is the more accurate word - and yelling that he wanted to stay. That he didn't want to go. He curled up on the floor totally distraught.
I was thrilled that he had had such a good time. I was tickled pink he hadn't needed me. I was beyond excited to know that he could have such a wonderful time and not want to end that time.
I wasn't sure who hurt more on either of those days. I know he wasn't traumatized by the experience, but I can't say the same for me. I just hope when C starts preschool I'll be a little less traumatized. But... I doubt it!
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Reflection
For whatever reason I find myself reflecting on the past. Reflecting on things that were. Things that could have been. Things that never were. Things... People... Places... It's amazing how time can change the way you perceive things. Change how you remember people.
Although there are times in life when I reflect on the things that I wish had happened and the people I wished they'd happened with, I am always brought back to the present. To the life I have. To the life I chose.
I ask myself often, if the boyfriend I had in college were the man I married how would my life have been different. It would have been very different. I wouldn't have the house I love, the property I love, the children I adore or the husband who loves me. I know if I married him I wouldn't have any of those things. I wouldn't have a husband I could trust, or even my own children. And although I think of him often and even still love him, I'm not IN love with him. I miss him. And sometimes I wonder if that's wrong. I wonder if that's an affront to my husband. But it truly makes me love my own husband more. How strange is that!?!
Now what if I married the boy in high school? The boy who at the time I couldn't imagine being without. The boy who I cried many nights over because we'd broken up. Well I tell you what... I would most definitely not be here. He's a meth tweeker now so I KNOW I wouldn't be with him anymore.
It seems to me the reason we reflect on life and what we gave up is not so we can wonder what we lost. What we never had. What or who we'll never have again. It's so we can look at what we do have and know it's right where we're supposed to be.
Although there are times in life when I reflect on the things that I wish had happened and the people I wished they'd happened with, I am always brought back to the present. To the life I have. To the life I chose.
I ask myself often, if the boyfriend I had in college were the man I married how would my life have been different. It would have been very different. I wouldn't have the house I love, the property I love, the children I adore or the husband who loves me. I know if I married him I wouldn't have any of those things. I wouldn't have a husband I could trust, or even my own children. And although I think of him often and even still love him, I'm not IN love with him. I miss him. And sometimes I wonder if that's wrong. I wonder if that's an affront to my husband. But it truly makes me love my own husband more. How strange is that!?!
Now what if I married the boy in high school? The boy who at the time I couldn't imagine being without. The boy who I cried many nights over because we'd broken up. Well I tell you what... I would most definitely not be here. He's a meth tweeker now so I KNOW I wouldn't be with him anymore.
It seems to me the reason we reflect on life and what we gave up is not so we can wonder what we lost. What we never had. What or who we'll never have again. It's so we can look at what we do have and know it's right where we're supposed to be.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Baby names
Why you might ask am I writing about baby names? That is simple...
When I was pregnant it was very important to me that my children have names that meant something. I did not however want everyone and their brothers input. What I'm talking about is the "what about...." or "I don't like that name..." or "That doesn't sound right, how 'bout...." or "You know that doesn't flow right with your last name." or "did you think about what those initials will spell?" and on and on and on. Or even better... the look. You know the look that says "wow, you're really thinking of THAT name?!?" Or how about the laugh followed by "oh... you were serious?!?"
You see I have friends that are currently going through this very problem now. They aren't sure what they are going to name their daughter so they constantly get name ideas. You gotta love when people through their two cents in.
So because we didn't tell anyone what we were going to name our sons before they were born we had the "two centers" throwing names in left and right. Turns out everyone we knew had a different name for our kids before they were born. They had to call them something because BD1 and BD2 were just not acceptable things to refer to our babies as.
With K, he was our first so people were overly helpful with him. He ended up with several names. My dad called him Ishkabible. I don't know why and I'm pretty sure he made that name up. Being a huge Bronco fan that I am the name Elway came up. The Hubz uncle decided to throw out Magwheel. Of course to be fair he pitched that idea to every baby that has been born in the family (even C).
With C my dad didn't really give him a name. My mother called him Elam (the homage to the Broncos again). The Hubz went out of town for a bit when I was nearing my due date with C and I warned him that if I had that baby before he got back I'd call him John Elway or Bono The Edge. As you might guess another Bronco reference and even better a showing of my love for the best band ever... U2. Turns out he made it back in plenty of time. Just to throw people off I called him Seamus (which I really do Love!!!) Seamus however got "the look" from a lot of people. A friend of mine at work called him Aaron.
So you see... people come up with names for kids all the time even if the kids don't belong to 'em.
Names are important. As a parent it's the first gift you give your child. And hopefully, you've chosen correctly. Sometimes you don't. But more often then not, they grow into the name you pick. What is also important, if it's not your kid... BUTT OUT! If the parent asks for an idea and you share it but they don't take it... Fine, no biggie... have your own kid and use the name. No biggie! I guess my point is you're the one having the kid. You're the one that's going to be up all night. You're the one - or more appropriately the kid - that has to live with your choice. So make it. Embrace it. Love it. And don't let others change your mind. That's the beauty of being a parent. That's one of the main reasons you get on this ride.
When I was pregnant it was very important to me that my children have names that meant something. I did not however want everyone and their brothers input. What I'm talking about is the "what about...." or "I don't like that name..." or "That doesn't sound right, how 'bout...." or "You know that doesn't flow right with your last name." or "did you think about what those initials will spell?" and on and on and on. Or even better... the look. You know the look that says "wow, you're really thinking of THAT name?!?" Or how about the laugh followed by "oh... you were serious?!?"
You see I have friends that are currently going through this very problem now. They aren't sure what they are going to name their daughter so they constantly get name ideas. You gotta love when people through their two cents in.
So because we didn't tell anyone what we were going to name our sons before they were born we had the "two centers" throwing names in left and right. Turns out everyone we knew had a different name for our kids before they were born. They had to call them something because BD1 and BD2 were just not acceptable things to refer to our babies as.
With K, he was our first so people were overly helpful with him. He ended up with several names. My dad called him Ishkabible. I don't know why and I'm pretty sure he made that name up. Being a huge Bronco fan that I am the name Elway came up. The Hubz uncle decided to throw out Magwheel. Of course to be fair he pitched that idea to every baby that has been born in the family (even C).
With C my dad didn't really give him a name. My mother called him Elam (the homage to the Broncos again). The Hubz went out of town for a bit when I was nearing my due date with C and I warned him that if I had that baby before he got back I'd call him John Elway or Bono The Edge. As you might guess another Bronco reference and even better a showing of my love for the best band ever... U2. Turns out he made it back in plenty of time. Just to throw people off I called him Seamus (which I really do Love!!!) Seamus however got "the look" from a lot of people. A friend of mine at work called him Aaron.
So you see... people come up with names for kids all the time even if the kids don't belong to 'em.
Names are important. As a parent it's the first gift you give your child. And hopefully, you've chosen correctly. Sometimes you don't. But more often then not, they grow into the name you pick. What is also important, if it's not your kid... BUTT OUT! If the parent asks for an idea and you share it but they don't take it... Fine, no biggie... have your own kid and use the name. No biggie! I guess my point is you're the one having the kid. You're the one that's going to be up all night. You're the one - or more appropriately the kid - that has to live with your choice. So make it. Embrace it. Love it. And don't let others change your mind. That's the beauty of being a parent. That's one of the main reasons you get on this ride.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Oral filter
It is true what they say.... kids say the darnedest things. But let's face reality. If an adult said the things the kids did it wouldn't be hilarious, we'd just comment about the fact that they had no oral filter. That doesn't make what the kids say any less funny, just an ironic point I thought I'd make.
Speaking of darnedest things, my kids crack me up. Now while C can't say much yet - in fact the only words he's ever spoken are mom, dad and no - he still points and says "Ah" with conviction. We definitely know what he wants when he wants it. But K... now he's a funny little one that's for sure!
Where do I start? It seems so many funny things come out of his mouth so often I can hardly keep up.
Yesterday I went to our local dive shop (Eugene Skin Divers) to pick up some stuff. Well I had K with me. We went inside, he promptly decided to start playing hide and seek in the dry suits while I got what I needed. Then we left. I got him in the car and put him in his car seat and started looking over the stuff I'd ordered (cuz frankly I'd forgotten one of the items and was rediscovering my excitement over it!). Then my cell phone rang - damn obnoxious thing that it is in life. I got in the driver seat, got off the phone then looked at K and said "Ready to go buddy?" His reply, "No mom. We can't go anywhere! I don't have my seat belt on!!" Sure enough in my excitement at my new goodies, I'd forgotten to buckle him into his car seat. Way to go K for reminding me!
Then the other night my wonderful son was building with his Mega Bloks. He loves those things. This particular time he was building robots. He even gave each one a job. There was the Cupcake Robot, Ice Cream/Otter Pop Robot, Coffee Robot and Crane Robot. Each one made or did exactly what he said it did. Then he turns and looks at me and hubs and says, "you guys wanna see a show?"
"Sure," we reply.
"Ok then. Lay down on the couch first." So of course we do, because he rules our house with an iron fist. Then he says, "now I need a curtain." He grabs one of his blankets and holds it up blocking our view of the robots. "Can you see 'em?"
"No baby, we can't," I replied.
"Ok Robots, Go!" he said and pulled the 'curtain' away with a flourish. Then he ducked behind the couch.
Now, not wanting K to think we weren't paying attention, and because there was no sound at all in the family room we started making the obligatory "ah", "wow!", "ooooo" to the show. That's when he jumps up and runs around to me. "You guys have to be quiet! None of the ooooo's. You see that sign over there?" Pointing to nothing in particular "it says no ooooooo's. You can only talk quietly, no ooooo's."
Guess we got a show after all.
One day K and I are driving home from his Nana's house. He's busily talking on his 'phone', you know the thumb and finger of his hand. "Who you talking to baby?"
"Uncle K3. You wanna talk to him?"
"Sure, hand me the phone." So in an act of pure yoga bendiness, I reach behind me and grab his 'phone' and start talking to my brother. "Hey there Uncle K3, how are you? Yeah, I'm good..." I look in the mirror at my son and see him giving me the stink eye and he's holding out his hand - like he wants his phone back. "What's wrong baby?"
"You're not talking on the phone."
"What do you mean, you handed it to me."
"No," with a tone that says 'you're a retard mom!', "I still have the phone in my hand."
"But you handed it to me."
Again with the retard tone, "no. I didn't. Here."
So you see what I mean. If an adult had said these things we wouldn't find them hilarious. In fact anyone other then my husband and I may not find them that funny, but by God I'm so glad his oral filter hasn't grown in yet. That kid keeps me in stitches!
Speaking of darnedest things, my kids crack me up. Now while C can't say much yet - in fact the only words he's ever spoken are mom, dad and no - he still points and says "Ah" with conviction. We definitely know what he wants when he wants it. But K... now he's a funny little one that's for sure!
Where do I start? It seems so many funny things come out of his mouth so often I can hardly keep up.
Yesterday I went to our local dive shop (Eugene Skin Divers) to pick up some stuff. Well I had K with me. We went inside, he promptly decided to start playing hide and seek in the dry suits while I got what I needed. Then we left. I got him in the car and put him in his car seat and started looking over the stuff I'd ordered (cuz frankly I'd forgotten one of the items and was rediscovering my excitement over it!). Then my cell phone rang - damn obnoxious thing that it is in life. I got in the driver seat, got off the phone then looked at K and said "Ready to go buddy?" His reply, "No mom. We can't go anywhere! I don't have my seat belt on!!" Sure enough in my excitement at my new goodies, I'd forgotten to buckle him into his car seat. Way to go K for reminding me!
Then the other night my wonderful son was building with his Mega Bloks. He loves those things. This particular time he was building robots. He even gave each one a job. There was the Cupcake Robot, Ice Cream/Otter Pop Robot, Coffee Robot and Crane Robot. Each one made or did exactly what he said it did. Then he turns and looks at me and hubs and says, "you guys wanna see a show?"
"Sure," we reply.
"Ok then. Lay down on the couch first." So of course we do, because he rules our house with an iron fist. Then he says, "now I need a curtain." He grabs one of his blankets and holds it up blocking our view of the robots. "Can you see 'em?"
"No baby, we can't," I replied.
"Ok Robots, Go!" he said and pulled the 'curtain' away with a flourish. Then he ducked behind the couch.
Now, not wanting K to think we weren't paying attention, and because there was no sound at all in the family room we started making the obligatory "ah", "wow!", "ooooo" to the show. That's when he jumps up and runs around to me. "You guys have to be quiet! None of the ooooo's. You see that sign over there?" Pointing to nothing in particular "it says no ooooooo's. You can only talk quietly, no ooooo's."
Guess we got a show after all.
One day K and I are driving home from his Nana's house. He's busily talking on his 'phone', you know the thumb and finger of his hand. "Who you talking to baby?"
"Uncle K3. You wanna talk to him?"
"Sure, hand me the phone." So in an act of pure yoga bendiness, I reach behind me and grab his 'phone' and start talking to my brother. "Hey there Uncle K3, how are you? Yeah, I'm good..." I look in the mirror at my son and see him giving me the stink eye and he's holding out his hand - like he wants his phone back. "What's wrong baby?"
"You're not talking on the phone."
"What do you mean, you handed it to me."
"No," with a tone that says 'you're a retard mom!', "I still have the phone in my hand."
"But you handed it to me."
Again with the retard tone, "no. I didn't. Here."
So you see what I mean. If an adult had said these things we wouldn't find them hilarious. In fact anyone other then my husband and I may not find them that funny, but by God I'm so glad his oral filter hasn't grown in yet. That kid keeps me in stitches!
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Underwater Haven
So this weekend is Memorial Day. I've always understood what this weekend represents. I've always honored Vets - on any day - but particularly this weekend. I think it's important to remember the men and women that serve in the armed forces and that what they do gives us our freedom. Their sacrifice provides us the opportunity to spend our weekends any way we see fit. To honor their sacrifice, this weekend, I'm going diving.
Diving. Underwater Haven. There is just something about being able to spend an hour underwater, breathing and watching all of the creatures that live in that world. I want to be able to teach my children not to be afraid of things. To enjoy the world around them and to save the world. I hope that one day, the worlds oceans will be a sanctuary that people, who respect the earth, can escape to on a regular basis. I know that is what happens now for me and my friends. It's a remarkable experience to be underwater. To swim with the fish, catch crab and lobster and be stalked by baracuda's.
My sons will one day embrace this world. They too will be able to swim with the sharks and turtles. I wonder sometimes what this hobby will mean to them. I wonder if I will push them into doing something they don't want to do. Isn't that the fear of every parent. To let their children grow into the people they are meant to be and not push them into something they aren't?
K wants to be a diver. I don't think he truly grasps what that means though. Because he DOES NOT want to take swim lessons. It'll be very hard to dive if he won't learn to swim. I think it's cute, but he insists when he's 10 he'll learn to dive. Ok honey, good luck with that without knowing how to swim! =)
I know that I had visions of my children playing football and winning the Super Bowl. I never had visions of my children underwater for an hour. Now I know how safe diving can be if you know what you're doing and you do it right. I also know there is no way my husband will let the boys dive without knowing exactly how to do it right. I also know I want them to learn - for all the above stated reasons and more - but what I know most of all... It SCARES the HELL out of me!
That's right. It scares me! I know logically they will be fine, but the mere thought of them with tanks strapped to their backs and regs shoved in their mouths and that is the only thing keeping them alive?!?! Scary, SCARY, SCARY, SCARY!!!!
But that's what makes being a parent so... scary. This is an adventure I want my children to enjoy and learn to love. But the thought of them in my Underwater Haven... makes my hair turn gray! Being torn between these two very conflicting emotions... is as natural as the sharks swimming in the ocean. I know that, but it doesn't stop the illogical thoughts from forming.
So I guess what I'm saying is this. Enjoy the paradise that is underwater. Just don't be surprised if I tether myself to your torso and never let you out of my sight when you're there!!!
Diving. Underwater Haven. There is just something about being able to spend an hour underwater, breathing and watching all of the creatures that live in that world. I want to be able to teach my children not to be afraid of things. To enjoy the world around them and to save the world. I hope that one day, the worlds oceans will be a sanctuary that people, who respect the earth, can escape to on a regular basis. I know that is what happens now for me and my friends. It's a remarkable experience to be underwater. To swim with the fish, catch crab and lobster and be stalked by baracuda's.
My sons will one day embrace this world. They too will be able to swim with the sharks and turtles. I wonder sometimes what this hobby will mean to them. I wonder if I will push them into doing something they don't want to do. Isn't that the fear of every parent. To let their children grow into the people they are meant to be and not push them into something they aren't?
K wants to be a diver. I don't think he truly grasps what that means though. Because he DOES NOT want to take swim lessons. It'll be very hard to dive if he won't learn to swim. I think it's cute, but he insists when he's 10 he'll learn to dive. Ok honey, good luck with that without knowing how to swim! =)
I know that I had visions of my children playing football and winning the Super Bowl. I never had visions of my children underwater for an hour. Now I know how safe diving can be if you know what you're doing and you do it right. I also know there is no way my husband will let the boys dive without knowing exactly how to do it right. I also know I want them to learn - for all the above stated reasons and more - but what I know most of all... It SCARES the HELL out of me!
That's right. It scares me! I know logically they will be fine, but the mere thought of them with tanks strapped to their backs and regs shoved in their mouths and that is the only thing keeping them alive?!?! Scary, SCARY, SCARY, SCARY!!!!
But that's what makes being a parent so... scary. This is an adventure I want my children to enjoy and learn to love. But the thought of them in my Underwater Haven... makes my hair turn gray! Being torn between these two very conflicting emotions... is as natural as the sharks swimming in the ocean. I know that, but it doesn't stop the illogical thoughts from forming.
So I guess what I'm saying is this. Enjoy the paradise that is underwater. Just don't be surprised if I tether myself to your torso and never let you out of my sight when you're there!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)