Tuesday, September 30, 2008
I am feeling increasingly disheartened by the way things are going in our country. That sounds deeper and more meaningful than I even mean it. What I mean is, I'm so tired of bad, even atrocious things happening to people at the hands of Bad People. I'm tired of hearing/seeing suffering. I'm tired of Bad People becoming such because they had crappy home lives with no parents, or no dad, or no mom, or no one who ever cared. Or of people who could have or might have cared, but who brought Bad People into their homes and let their children suffer at their hands. I'm tired of people taking sacred responsibilities lightly as though they are a game anyone can play and no one can win.
I'm tired of being worried about my children's safety at every turn.
I'm tired of feeling like I'm fighting an uphill battle in raising good, tolerant, kind, moral, productive children.
Over the weekend, the daughter of one of J's employees was sitting in her living room when a group of men broke through her front door and beat and rap_d her. Sitting in her living room. Neighbors. 15 years old. SITTING IN HER LIVING ROOM.
Over the weekend I was visiting my sister, with my babies asleep in the other room, I was sitting in her lovely home, laughing at Tina F-ay and Amy Polarbear when 3 doors down a young girl was being stabb_d to death. With her 4 month old baby in the other room. I want to fall on the floor and sob until I have nothing more to give when I think about this. But I have kids who would probably be traumatized if they saw this. And I can't help but think she's so much better off now, than a life where these kinds of horrible things can happen.
I'm tired of people vilifying the opposing candidate. Just shut up and vote. If people are stupid enough to believe the crap other people are saying, do you really want them making the decisions for who runs our country? Promote education. Promote awareness. Shut up with the ridiculous accusations. "He didn't show up. Bad bad bad!" "He didn't say a word. Bad bad bad!" Give me a break. I'm doing my darnedest to teach my children that such behavior is ridiculous, ineffective, and beneath them. Way to go America---prove me right.
And I'm ticked off beyond belief that a man who has a 200 million dollar severance package is partly responsible for the condition of our economy and he's probably having umbrella drinks on his yacht with a mistress, or well, maybe even with his wife of 30 years who manages to look like a young mistress, while there are people panicking, suffering, struggling, and feeling like the end is coming. Thank you Jerkfaces.
Just call me Sunshine.
In other news.
Avery fell 15 feet on Sunday with nary a scratch on her precious little body. I saw my life as a functioning, capable, life-worth-living, human being flash before me as I ran the 20 yards to reach her. Once it was ascertained that she was okay, I saw Bo's life as a living, breathing, talking human being flash before me. "It was her fault, she wouldn't get out of my way."
This incident is proof that inasmuch as possible, children should come from a two-parent home. Bo might not have survived my wrath, if I had had to deal with him. He can thank J that he is still alive today.
Don't think the irony of this is missed on me. But some of you may know, Mama Bear is no respecter of persons. Even if they are adorable, albeit naughty, 5 year old's with love handles.
In other, lighter news:
Bo begs me every day to let him go to the after school program at his school. It makes me laugh every time. I'm certain that 93% of those kids would love to go home everyday and be bossed around by their own moms. He even offered my a nonexistent cookie from his lunch if I'd let him go.
The reason the cookie was nonexistent was because that's all he ate for lunch. Oh yeah, and the chips. Untouched were the two clementines and the pbj sandwich. So, guess what Bo had for dinner last night? A pbj sandwich and two clementines. He thought it was a funny joke when J broke the news to him.
Last night I looked in the fridge and saw half an eaten pbj. The boy is incorrigible. And insanely cute.
Speaking of cute, cuteness is:
A three-year-old asking her 1-year-old brother to give her a HIGH FIVE.
A one-year-old hauling a foot stool as big as him around the house for a better vantage point.
A three-year-old who says "wipe" for the color "white".
Me, not in a bad mood.
Speaking of bad mood, I guess my neighbor got a DUI and can't drive. Her peanut-butter-and- JELLY-making-7-year-old showed up on my doorstep today, 45 minutes before he was supposed to be at school. His mom sent him over because she had an appointment. Uh, did she know if we'd be home? No. Is she smart enough to at least send him somewhere safe? Yes. So little PBJ boy started explaining to my little preshies about DUI's and how it's illegal. "Illegal means it's very very bad."
I'm counting the hours until Bo tells me that having to take naps is illegal.
Speaking of naps...
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Or this general cuteness:
Avee brought me the camera and asked me to take a picture of this pose. It was a pose, of that I am sure. What I'm not clear on is what she was thinking when she deliberately struck this pose. Twice.She came back to review the picture on the camera and she said, "Oh, that's cute. Aw MAN MOM! My showt is rip-DUD, I bettoh go get a new one."
Three cute things about this: 1. This is the same shirt she put on wrong and said, "What's this hole about mom?" a little over a month ago. 2. She called a picture of her backside, holding a chanter all weird, "cute" 3. She's my girl.
My uncle came into town for a short, less than 24 hour visit. My earliest memory in life (around 2-3 years old) is of him coming to visit us. I loved that my children got to enjoy a similar experience. He's delightful and entertaining and all three of my kids loved him almost immediately. Although, Avee was a little skeptical. She thought I said Uncle David is coming and she drew him a picture and everything. She was more than annoyed when J corrected her and said that it wasn't Uncle David coming. Bo told his friends on the way to school this morning, "There's a man at my house that you don't know and he plays the accohdian and he's my gwate uncoh." I love his style of bragging.
He brought his accordian
And his violin
And lots of TLC
A great time was had by all. Except Danyo. A nap was had by him.
In other news: Avee has been driving me batty lately with her complete lack of regard for my authority. AKA, naughty. I know I write a lot about her sassy style and her fiestiness and whatnot, but in general, she is very sweet and mostly eager to please. But every once in a while it gets like this and nothing we say gets her to behave. Nothing. She will stand there and stare at me, completely expressionless. If I wasn't used to it, I could be screaming like a banshee and blue in the face, and she wouldn't blink.
It can be infuriating.
I try really hard not to pick up my kids and remove all choice from them. Plus, I'm lazy, so that works out for me in the whole, "I believe in letting a child choose" I espouse. But it seems that sometimes that is the only recourse I have. And that of course results in hysteria of the arm flapping, leg flailing variety. Another thing I like to avoid.
Tonight J got home and I had had enough of fighting with her on every.little.thing. But I don't say anything to J because he tends to pick up where my patience let off, and then it gets crazy really fast. So I just started repeating myself every 45 seconds or so. "Go brush your teeth (45 seconds) Go brush your teeth (45 seconds) Go brush your teeth (45 seconds)" and so on and so forth. She did not brush her teeth. She did however stand 7 inches away from me the entire time with a blank expression. Every once in a while she'd cast a pathetic little victim look my way, but in general, blank.
Methinks my husband grew weary of the broken record approach and so he finally chimed in. "Okay Avee, last chance, 5... 4... 3... 2... 1!"
There was silence.
Avee didn't move.
J didn't move.
No one said a word.
I turned to look at J, watching George Dubya telling us we should bail out the rich corporations with our seven fitty an hour jobs, and he is completely not even paying attention to Avee.
Avee's watching me. I'm watching J. Nothing is happening.
So I say, "Um hi. Uhhh, what happens at 1?"
J looks over with his really cute smile and shrugs his very tired shoulders and says, "I dunno."
Pretty much, um----we couldn't even use that experience to pretend we were teaching her to count, cuz he counted backwards.
And there's your shining example of superior parenting. From our home, to yours.
Lastly, the neighbor boy (son of aforementioned neighbor lady in post below):
My friend's kids come over and play a lot and usually she calls for them to come home right around 5:30-6 every night. It saves me a lot of trouble of being the bad guy. They have to go home, so my kids naturally assume they need to come in and get ready to eat. It works great.
Well tonight, our dinner was ready first. So I said to my friend's kids, "Hey guys, it's about dinner time, you should probably go home."
They did look at me like I was an alien.
Right then, I noticed the neighbor (with the "doting" mother) looking at me, and I saw the wheel's a'turning in his head.
A few minutes later Bo was inquiring where Neighbor Boy had gone. Brother replied, "He's gone to find some dinner."
10 minutes later, he came out with a sandwich. I kept my composure because on one hand, it's really really sad, and on the other hand, I don't want my children laughing at people the way that I do. I do have some standards.
We call this beauty, "DINNER".
The picture doesn't quite do it justice, there was somewhere close to a cup or more of jelly on his little sandwich. I said, "Holy Moly Neighbor Boy!" and he giggled and said, "Me and my brother like jelly."
Monday, September 22, 2008
Warning: This may not interest you past the second sentence (except you mom), but it was my day, and well, nobody called today.
I told J last night to wake me up when he gets up or when he leaves. Whichever is closest to 7am.
I had big dreams of getting things done and being ready to walk out the door at 8:30 am with Bo entirely prepared for school, with myself and the other two entirely prepared to go to the Y immediately after dropping him off.
I was even going to make steel cut oatmeal. I never have time to make it.
Instead I remembered that I wanted to try only fruit before noon and then I accidentally sat down at the computer to pay a bill and uh....ended up chatting with a friend.
Then I yelled for the kids to hurry up and get pants on and hurry up and eat their ever-so-healthy breakfast that they prepared for themselves. In the microwave. For 30 seconds.
I rushed out the door with a cereal bar for Danyo, him barely hanging on by the chin, my tennis shoes in hand, two plums in the diaper bag for me, and barking orders at the other two to stop always making me late with their nutritional neediness and short legs.
As I was pulling out onto the street, waiting for cars to clear, a car slowed down so.painfully.slow I thought I was going to die. But I didn't. And I sat on my free hand to avoid waving my special bird at the bird-watchin'-instead-of-driving driver.
I zipped off to school, watched the Cute Little Kindergartener make his way up to the school and kinda wish I could run after him and give him one last kiss and squidge. Because he's adorable.
Off to the Y. Where Danyo finished his cereal bar in the parking lot and I put on my shoes.
We all three toddled into the Y.
I went to boot camp.
Where my boot camp friend said, "I saw you pulling out onto _______ street, I drove really slow to say hi, but I don't think you saw me!"
Errr, right. I barely noticed. Sorry friend.
And then, half an hour into boot camp the red plums kicked in.
I had to
You don't need to know any more than that on this matter.
I made my way back out just in time for bootcamp to be over.
I stayed on the track and started my "running regimen". Or as J likes to say, my running regime.
It was very nice and I'm excited to continue it.
I walked back up to the building, pretty worn out by now. I was locked out. So I went all the way around the building, only to find a very tall fence. With a lock on it. I stared at it for two minutes. It stayed lock. I saw a couple of my friends from bootcamp getting in their cars to leave.
I pressed my face up against fence and yelled, "How do I get out of this place!?"
Nobody knew. I mean---no one. Even I didn't know.
My friend (slow driving friend) said, "Why don't you hop the fence?"
She may have been joking.
I hopped it. If you could call what I did "hopping". I'm not sure there is a word for, realizing my shoe was too big to fit in one of the holes, taking it off, moving down 7 feet to a part of the fence that had a bar, hefting myself up on it, getting stuck, straddling the fence, ever so mindful that I do want more children, hefting one leg over, dangling precariously---precariously enough that both friends started yelling, "hold on, I'll come help!" Actually, I think one friend came and helped and the other got out her camera.
A lot of work for a four foot high fence. Heh, just kidding. I think it was 8 feet. I have no ability to gauge distances or heights. There's "bigger'n me" and "smaller'n me" for height and there's "I'd walk it" and "get in the car kids" for distance.
I went and got my kids where I was informed Danyo was being a stinker. And I was secretly glad they had to put up with it for nearly 2 hours and not me.
We loaded in the car and drove across town to the hospital. There I took Danyo and Avee in to the human resources office where I thought I was picking up papers to fill out at home.
That was not the case and I juggled Danyo on my left hip and filled out paperwork with my right hand. All the while Avee is trying to push a chair over to a door so she can swing from the large hinge. And all the while I talk to her, trying to make people believe that I always say things like, "Oh sweetie, no no---let's put our feet on the ground, let's not stand on furniture, we don't stand on furniture now do we? I need you to put your listening ears on Precious, yes, yes I do. Does mommy need to take away a privilege?" And honestly, that crap only came to me because I'm writing. In the moment I was like, "How do you say, 'Get the hell down from there before I beat you!' in Public-ese?"
Then a lady rescued me and gave them both suckers. And Danyo charmed them all with his double dimpled cheek and head bobbing in response to any question. And I got slimed. 42 times before we left the office.
I got in the car again and had the chance then to go home. But I am ambitious. And decided to get the drug test (for employment---this one was not for my P.O.) done. So Danyo's covered in sucker, Avee's face is blue, and I am wearing my workout clothes. They say I can do it with kids. I really wanted to say, "But aren't you afraid I'll try to use my daughter's urine?" But I didn't want to shoot myself in the foot, so I didn't. But I did see that on Judging Amy once.
We left there without much incident. If you can call looking like a 3-ring circus every two steps "without incident".
Where I headed to the local health food store to get my water refills.
Inside, the water dispenser wasn't working. I tried and tried and finally got help. I was not leaving that store without my water. A nice employee came and said "It's been acting up, you have to go tap tap BAM, like that."
Oh, I can hit things.
I put Danyo in one of those itty bitty kid carts (so cute) and let Avee push him back and forth. It worked great and it would have gone fast, but the whole tap, tap, BAM business was exhausting and time consuming.
Finally I was done.
But I forgot my wallet.
I went to the car to get it.
It wasn't there.
I went back in and headed for the nice employee to try and bum 8 gallons of water off her. I'm shameless.
As I'm approaching her, a nice man walks up to me and says, pointing at my fresh, beautiful, nice smelling shirt, "BYU-IDAHO, did that used to be Ricks College?"
"Yes! It sure did!"
-When did they change the name?
--Oh, I think about 5 or 6 years ago.
-Yeah, I figured it must have been Ricks because I went to the one in Provo and I thought it was the only one nearby.
--Oh, you went to BYU?
-Yes, one year. I played football there.
--Oh that's cool, when did you play there?
-LaVell Edward's last year.
(me, to myself: I have no idea when that was---just nod)
We continued to talk. He is from LA but lives here now because his wife is from here. He teaches 8th grade. Then somehow I said something about the jr high in our area and then he said he used to live by there and they'd just moved and then I said I live right by __________ and he said he used to live right by there too and then he said where he lived and I said that's right where I live and then we laughed and then we realized he used to live RIGHT ACROSS FROM US.
Then I realized I knew his wife. And his two daughters. From the Y. Then I was like, "You know, you're good looking, I'm good looking, you're an adult, I'm an adult...
Could I borrow four bucks for my water?"
We probably could have kept chatting but I suddenly realized that I had two kids and only one of them was in my arms. At least, I think he was, now I can't remember. I looked down toward the produce section and Avee had filled her teeny tiny grocery cart with apples. She had about 43 apples in her cart. I'm not joking. It was filled to the brim.
I laughed out loud and said, "Uh, she's mine, I better go."
He laughed. But he got to leave.
I went over to Avee and told her that we had to put the apples back. She layed across them and started howling, "NOOOOOOOO MY APPLES!! DESE AW MYYYYYYYYYY APPLES!" I started with the Public-ese and then realized a)it wasn't working and b)there was no one within 10 feet of me. I grabbed her arms and put her face up to mine and said, "If you don't get off these apples and starting gently putting them back on the shelf I will never ever let you come to the store with me again, I will call Daddy and let him have a word with you, and you will go home and take a nap right now!"
She got off the apples. And got on the floor. And the wailing continued. Clutching Danyo with one arm, I practice my boot camp exercise and did squats to get the apples out of the cart and put them back. Danyo is batting at the apples, "Muh, muh, muh! Hiiiiiiiiiii!" Avee is screaming about every apple injustice known to the oppressed 3-year-old across the nation.
I'm sweating. My heart rate monitor (from the running regime) starts beeping. I have exceeded the higher target range.
I start swearing in my mind.
I still haven't even tried to bum the water off the employee yet.
I get the apples put away, pick up the cart and carry it back to the other carts. Leaving Avee on the floor by the apples. I'm saying over and over in my head, "Please don't let her chuck an apple at me, please don't let her chuck an apple at me" because I know it's just miliseconds from her mind if it isn't already in it.
I approach the employee with sweat beads glistening along my forehead and upper lip, Danyo is smacking me with a sticky sucker hand because I didn't give him an apple, and my heart rate monitor is beeping incessantly,
"Hi. I don't have any money. Can I ummm....can I just like, call you from home and give you my card number?"
"Or you could just take the water, you come in here enough."
"Yeah no, I'd feel really sheepish doing that. Can I call?"
"Sure. Or you could just take the water. I mean, we're talking like, $2.80 here, right?"
"Yeah, but I'd really feel better about paying for it. I just need to make sure doing it over the phone is possible."
"Yes, it is but really--"
"Thank you, I'll call you in 12 minutes."
I turned back and saw Avee slithering like a snake on the floor. I threw up a little in my mouth but I left quickly so I didn't have to hear the employee say, "Hey crazy lady, could you just take the water and not call me. And not come back either?"
The good news:
--Avee and Danyo are still intact
--I did not ask the nice ex-football player "How was it being the only black man in Utah Valley" because I really really wanted to.
--my 8 gallons of water are now paid for
--It only took me an hour to write this post
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
But I did make myself laugh when I thought of this post title yesterday.
I even scored some Sweet Pea hand soap out of that post. Thanks MH! That was awesome. I showed it to J and he said, "What, they were out of Vanilla Fluffy Fluff?" He thinks he's so funny.
So, it's correspondence time!
Dear Road Crew Working On Our Street:
I'm totally stoked that you are widening the street. It makes me not be annoyed with the hassle of coming and going. However. I need you to know--when I'm looking at you in your little tractors or diggers and I look like I'm talking to you or making eyes at you, I am actually talking to my children in the backseats.
I know the windows are tinted and you can't see them, but I assure you, I am talking to them, I am not mouthing the words, "You're hot" or "Can I get your number?"
This is the truth.
What may look like, "I think your tractor is sexy" is actually me saying, "It may well be a backhoe Bo and not a 'baby tractor', but you shouldn't tell grownups they don't know anything."
And to be fair, "Avee, stop screaming, I see the man inside the net on the widdo lellow tractoh" could easily look like, "Take me, take me now." That's the only reason I can explain the leering and the winking and the...oh, this is a PG blog. Mostly.
Besides, I haven't showered since Sunday and that was just because I had to go to church. If I shower begrudgingly for church, just imagine how much less I will do for you, Mr Widdo Lellow Tracto Drivoh!
Frumpy In The Minivan
It is not polite to tell your mommy she doesn't know anything. I know you passed me ages ago in the smarts department, but it is your duty, still being under 4 feet tall, and as my child to keep that to yourself.
And also--I explained to you what Fast Food was because I thought you'd like to know that little bit of information. I definitely didn't think you'd use the information to yell out the window at the paaaaiiiiinnnnnnfully slow Taco Bell employees, "This isn't fast food, this is the slowest food ever! Slow food! Slow food!"
That is rude.
True, but still rude. As your mother, it is my duty to teach you the difference between rude--but needs to be said, and rude--but shouldn't be said. I will teach you because your father, bless his honest little heart, still hasn't quite gotten the knack for it.
Your future wife will thank me.
Dear Cute Little Town Right Down The Road From Us:
Why didn't I know you existed until today? I'm so disappointed. While I love our current location in this city, I think I would have loved spending my days in Mayberry. If only I had known how close you were.
Dear Sarah Who Just Had A Baby Boy:
I am lame for not saying this sooner, but thank you for the awesome book for Bo's cards.
He doesn't know how lucky he is, but I do and I think you are very kind and thoughtful.
Dear Y Pump Instructor:
Next time just yell, "Yo Nobody! Straighten yer arms ya heffer!" I'd actually prefer that to you stopping your instructing, making everyone wait, and you straitening my arms yourself.
I thought you were sweet, and I know you were trying to avoid hurt feelings, but having 20 people stare at me balancing my opposite-of-petite body on an amazingly-petite-once-I-lay-on-it ball AND have crooked arms, is prolly worse. Yeah, it is. If you want, you can leave off the "heffer" part. That way, it will be a compromise.
Sore To The Core,
Working The Muscle Incorrectly
p.s. Sorry I leaned against the wall that has a nice big sign that says "PLEASE DO NOT LEAN ON THIS WALL!" I saw it after class when I was rolling up my mat.
Maybe sometime when you are feeling sweet and affectionate, you could tell me that you love me and that I'm your best friend without continuing on to tell me that so is Grandma, Uncle David, Ella, Christian, Nyah, Tippany, and Daddy. Methinks perhaps the term "best" is lost on you.
Aw, it's okay. It's too doggone adorable to complain about.
However, please do keep in mind that the cookies on top of the refrigerator are there so you won't get into them. Not there to challenge you to greater heights or so you can tell me that you did it "without bweaking yo' leg".
Your Mom Who Doesn't Need The ER Interrogation Again
p.s. Please keep in mind, while you are standing in the living room, hitting me in the arm with your popsicle, to get my attention so you can nark on Bo for being in the living room with a popsicle, that you are in fact, standing in the living room, hitting me in the arm with your popsicle.
Dear Elementary School Who Thinks I Can't Raise My Own Child:
Did you know that Bo weighed over 9 lbs at birth? No, you did not? Ohhhhh. Well that would be because you didn't give birth to him!
He is not your pride and joy. In a way that you have never felt pride and joy before.
His smile does not melt your heart.
You have never stayed up all night with him when he is sick.
His inability to say his R's does not make you smile every time you hear it.
You don't worry about his future so much sometimes that you can't sleep at night.
His happiness and success in life is not one of the single most important motivations in your life.
You didn't even know he was locked outside in the rain when he was left in your care.
And you didn't have to mend the broken heart that came with that experience.
With a broken heart of your own.
You don't know why he cries before he's crying.
You don't know exactly what he's going to say sometimes, before he says it.
You haven't spent hours on end answering his questions because you want him to know every little thing he wants to know.
Except for how the baby got in my tummy.
His laugh doesn't fill your heart with happiness.
He doesn't have your red hair.
I am an imperfect mother, and by most standards, a novice. But I can assure you that my best intentions as a mother, will far exceed your "procedure" any day.
I just want you to know that when my son is sick, and I have the courtesy of calling and letting you know, I may just tell you that he's sick of you and that's why he's staying home. And if you insist that I give you TWO SYMPTOMS before it's considered okay by you that I keep my own child home, let me be clear right now--what those two reasons will be:
1. Your mom
2. Goes to college
And should I ever need to take my child out of school for an appointment of any kind, and you ask me to bring a note verifying from another person that I have done what I said I would do---I will. Every time. And every time, it will be a note from our dealer, letting you know just how much hoot we bought to smoke before I brought him back.
You are welcome.
I appreciate the services you offer.
But please remember: Before anything else, I am his mother. I reserve the right to maintain that position at whatever cost. Should you feel inclined to encroach on that sacred role, I will smash you. Way more fiercely than Tyra on a good day.
Ever So Sincerely,
The Mama Bear
It will never cease to amaze me how you can be the most uninvolved and seemingly negligent parent around, and still have two of the most well-behaved children in the neighborhood.
It makes me want to let the neighborhood raise my children. I could let the neighbors take my kids in when they are locked out after school --regularly-- and I am nowhere to be found. Neighbors could take them to school because I will send them out in the rain and others can feed them breakfast because I can't be bothered. The will be outside moments after waking up and won't go in until long after a reasonable bed time.
And maybe in turn, they will be polite and kind to others and respectful every time you are around them.
I don't know how you do it.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
I knew I couldn't come up with 200 things about me. I love myself, and even I would die of boredom. You'd think after that statement, I would have spared you. But I have not.
I pushed it to 140. Made J write 20, and then I wrote 10 things about the rest of the family.
That equals 200.
It reminds me of how I did Algebra in high school. I was determined to do it and finish it, but I did not take the quickest or most efficient route to do so. It was also often very wrong.
At least I'm consistent.
If you want, you can keep score of the 140 things I wrote and note how many of those things you already knew. I might build you a cake or something if you are the one who knows the most.
20 Things about Nobody, By J:
1. If Nobody gets her way, and we get rich/I stop being cheap, we'll go to one Broadway musical each month, and a cruise twice a year.
2. She is a travel agent for all her friends and family including my parents
3. She is a living, breathing database for phone numbers and birthdays. To all my friends - if you ever hear from me on or around your birthday, it's because of Nobody
4. Country music is the default radio station in her car.
5. Her mom was once offered 5000 camels for her when they were in Egypt.
6. When playing Settlers of Catan, she will always squander her resources on a usually futile quest to get the longest road.
7. She introduced me to the awesome world of Vietnamese pho and sushi.
8. She does a pretty good job of not putting me through the whole 'I'm a woman, you need to read my mind' torture.
9. She does not sing in the shower.
10. She has not watched the original Star Wars Trilogy (New Hope, Empire, Jedi) and thus totally misses out on all cultural references to the movies. ---- By the way I think everyone should gang up on her and pressure her to watch the original Star Wars. Omar. NCS. Talking to you here. I've done all I can. Do it for the children. FOR THE CHILDREN.
11. She doesn't like the Twilight series as much as you do.
12. Take a moment in your mind and pinpoint exactly how much you enjoy watching smutty reality tv. She likes it more.
13. If you're less than 3 feet tall, have speech impediments, strawberry blonde hair, and you creep into her bed in the middle of the night, she is a total pushover and will let you stay.
14. The smell of sweet pea, cucumber melon, juniper berry, or vanilla fluffy fluff will put her into a trance and she will give you all the money in her wallet.
15. Whatever you may be thinking, do not buy her a Barry White CD for her birthday.
16. She has a great ability to pick out cool gifts for people. One year for my birthday she got me the book Ice By Ice from which I still quote to this day.
17. Will dethroned Harrison as 'Hottest' when Harrison dumped his wife and started wearing an earring. Matthew Mconaughey is hot, but Nobody needs brains and hotness.
18. People warm to her faster than they warm to me.
19. She has no care or need for scented candles when there is not a 500 pound smelly man living in the apartment below us. So don't buy her a 5 pound candle for Christmas.
20. One of her talents is putting other people at ease. I think this is because she's confident enough with herself that she can easily let other people be who they are.
1. If I get the giggles at the wrong time, I cannot regain control. Simply, canNOT.
2. I do not like roller coasters.
3. I don't like most amusement park rides.
4. Tilt-a-whirl does me in.
5. I can't dance.
6. At all.
7. I truly love my life.
8. There are things I could do without, but they pale in comparison to the things I have, but couldn't live without.
9. I moved to St. Louis when I was 25, didn't know anyone, didn't have a job, and lived alone for a year.
10. I loved it.
11. A couple of weeks before I turned 21 I biked 400 miles down the pacific coast with 3 friends.
12. I have never been fired.
13. I was a bad breaker-upper.
14. I have always liked my name.
15. When I was born my parents named me Suzanne.
16. My mom changed it to Nobody when I was a few weeks old. Maybe months. Honestly, I can't remember. :)
17. I used to hallucinate when I was sick.I often had the same hallucination of large "people" with tiny limbs that weren't strong enough to support their bodies. I'd always get in a panic wanting to help them not break and stuff.
18. I am afraid of spiders, snakes, rodents, and fish. I don't ever want to touch any of them or any of them to ever touch me. Ever.
19. I don't hold grudges.
20. However, if you are a pig, I will stop associating with you, without holding a grudge.
21. I was voted Most Congenial in 6th grade.
22. I also won "best girl athlete" but my teacher asked me if I'd be willing to let someone else have that award so other people could win stuff.
23. Of course I agreed, that's why I was Most Congenial.
24. I didn't know what that word meant when I won the award.
25. I had recently learned the word "congenital" so you can imagine my confusion at why this was an award.
26. I got a mood necklace from J on my 31st birthday. He bought it in the airport, moments before he came outside and got in the car where I was waiting.
27. I wish I could sing well.
28. It is very hard to personally offend me.
29. That is different from me finding someone/something offensive.
30. I saw Reba in Annie Get Your Gun on Broadway in New York. I LOVED it.
31. I played the cello from 11 years old until I was about 16.
32. I stopped because I hated the first chair in my orchestra class.
33. Dumb dumb dumb.
34. I've never tried caviar but I really want to try it.
35. I was Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz when I was 11 years old.
36. I got the part because my fake cry was the most convincing.
37. I was terribly embarrassed when Glinda the Good Witch had to kiss me on my forehead.
38. I've always wanted to go in a hot air balloon, but never have.
39. I'm also mildly afraid of heights, so its probably better that I don't.
40. I went to Egypt and Israel when I was 17.
41. I have never been in a haunted house.
42. I have no desire to ever go in one.
43. I can juggle.
44. I am not a good boss.
45. I have only been called to jury duty once.
46. I was the foreperson on said jury.
47. It was a lame and unexciting case about a H0me Dep0t ladder injury.
48. I used to write a lot of poetry when I was younger. Something about teen angst made me poetic.
49. Some of it was pretty good.
50. I have a very good memory for dates and names.
51. I have never been to Arizona.
52. I have never been in a limousine.
53. I have never donated blood. Everytime I've gone to there has been some random thing preventing me.
54. I do not like camping.
55. I have never had an allergic reaction to anything.
56. Although, I did OD on vitamin C when I was about 7. My mom's fault. She didn't keep white sugar in the house. I was desperate for a fix.
57. I made a pair of pants when I was 14. Then wore them to school. I dreamt the entire night before I wore them that a seam unraveled and they fell off me at school.
58. I remember very little about my childhood.
59. I volunteered at a soup kitchen in Berkeley.
60. I cannot say things I don't mean.
61. I cannot tolerate insincerity.
62. If I think someone is insincere, I can't get away from him or her fast enough.
63. There are few things I love more than being made to laugh really hard.
64. And a good massage.
65. When I was in 8th grade I was one of four 8th graders that got to welcome Michael Dukakis to our town for his rally.
66. I have to deliberately avoid the cleaning supplies aisle at the store because I want to buy everything.
67. I have never broken a bone.
68. I don't collect anything, even though I think it would be cool to.
69. When I was in Oregon last month I decided I would start collecting magnets for places I've been.
70. I have one crab magnet from Cannon Beach Oregon.
71. A few weeks later I went to a touristy place in Iowa and was not willing to shell out the $3.78 for a pig magnet that said "Iowa".
72. Thus effectively ending my venture to collect magnets.
73. I have way more patience for my third child than I did for my first when he was this age.
74. I don't feel guilty about that.
75. I believe in doing the best you can and doing better when you know better.
76. My children make me laugh at least once a day.
77. I mean really laugh, not just "ah, haha! that's cute!"
78. Yestoday Avee yelled, "Rocket on DUDE!" after winning a boxing match on the Wii.
79. It totally made me laugh.
80. I don't correct my children when they say something improperly.
81. I think it ought to be a crime to do so.
82. That is why my 5 year old calls fruit cocktail "fruit cock"
83. I did not start public schools until I was in 2nd grade.
84. I was waaaaay smarter than the average 7 year old when I started.
85. But with school procedures, I was totally retarded.
86. Negative people annoy me.
87. Your mom goes to college
88. Whenever my kids are misbehaving or act like deaf mutes on crack, I am convinced I'm doing something wrong.
89. I may or may not be right about that.
90. Being corrected does not bother me.
91. If the person doing the correcting isn't being a know-it-all jerk.
92. Some days I wish my children would stop growing.
93. If I could choose any woman in the world to be my mom, I'd choose my mom a thousand times over.
94. I do not get jealous.
95. Sometimes I'll say "oooh, I'm jealous"
96. But really that means, "If I felt jealousy, I bet I would be jealous now."
97. I think the nickname "Red" for redheads is the stupidest most unclever nickname in the world.
98. Well, "Tiny" for big men might be more stupid.
99. I do not like to be scared. At. All.
100. I used to fake coughing fits in junior high to get out of class.
101. I love to read.
102. I think my husband is one of the kindest men I know.
103. If I was a guy, I'd totally have a crush on Meryl Streep and Supernanny Jo.
104. I have a tendency to make fun of other people's stupidity.
105. It isn't nice, but I kind of can't help it.
106. I have been blogging since March of 2006 and I have never gotten a rude comment. This surprises me sometimes.
107. I think anonymous trolls must know how big I am.
108. I have never smoked a cigarette.
109. However. When I am pregnant, I crave cigarettes.
110. I do not know.
111. I do not enjoy the newborn stage. At. all.
112. I tried to change Danyo's name every day for the first 9 months of his life.
113. Jay would not let me.
115. When I am sick or in pain, I want attention.
116. When I am sad or angry, I don't.
117. I love plums.
118. I don't care for any kind of dessert unless it's chocolate.
119. In day to day life I am not competitive, but when I play sports I get possessed and become crazy competitive.
120. It's unfortunate because I'm not very good at most sports.
121. I have never thought I am better than some one else.
122. Except maybe Oprah.
123. Because I am.
124. I have very little will power.
125. I used to tell people I was dating Steve Young.
126. I always thought people knew I was joking, but one day a group of people believed me.
127. And I felt awful so I quit telling that particular lie.
128. I love rain.
129. I have six brothers.
130. I hate bananas.
131. I am perfectly aware that my children are not the smartest, cutest, most amazing children ever created, but I do like to pretend like I don't know that.
132. I am not necessarily hyper-patriotic or anything but I get emotional anytime the military or War Veterans are honored.
133. I can't imagine being willing to sacrifice myself for a cause or for other people like that.
134. I like the idea of parades, but I have been to so few that are actually enjoyable.
134. The 4th of July one here would probably top the list of most disappointing.
135. I have never been on TV
136. I have been on the radio several times.
137. Don't read too much into that.
138. I was born in Oklahoma
139. In real life, I don't cry very easily.
140. Just when I watch things on tv like, people being reunited, or kicking a drug addiction,
10 Things about Jay:
1. Sometimes when he's really trying to be funny, it's a total flop. Other times when he doesn't think he's that funny or when he's not even trying, he can be hilarious.
2. He makes me feel smart and likable.
3. He's one of the smartest people I know.
4. He doesn't act like a smartypants but he is, and I love that about him.
5. He likes my friends.
6. He thinks his friends are the greatest friends in the entire universe ever. I find that completely endearing.
7. If something or someone makes him laugh, he will laugh about it for days. Probably even weeks. Everytime like it's the first time he's laughed.
8. He is a good provider.
9. The one thing that deterred me from being interested in him the first time we met, is one of the things I love most about him now. He's very confident.
10. He's a great cook.
10 Things About Bo:
1. He is almost compulsively obedient. Sometimes I think "now is the time to rebel boy!" and he just can't.
2. He has a sharp sense of humor.
3. He does and says wildly inappropriate things without the slightest inkling that they are inappropriate.
4. He has an incredible memory.
5. It is very hard for him to be around people and not touch someone.
6. He will laugh hysterically at J quoting Family Guy.
7. He's a borderline pessimist.
8. He is my heart.
9. He is very Smith, in that he thinks he's funny when he's not. And persists in being unfunny even with plentiful evidence that he is not funny.
10. He loves deviled eggs, which he calls "doubled eggs".
10 Things About Avee:
1. She has enchanted us since the day she was born and she is entirely sweet and tender-hearted.
2. This gets overlooked when her stubborn and sassy seem so much more glaringly present.
3. There is nothing she loves more in life than being chased.
4. She notices everything.
5. She has never liked my singing, since she was born.
6. She was born self-assured.
7. She loves pink and purple, so she says, but has always gravitated toward the color yellow, even before she could talk.
8. She loves her Uncle David in a way that defies time and distance.
9. She is brilliant at outwitting me.
10. Her smile melts my heart.
10 Things About Danyo:
1. He can't talk but he tells jokes. And laughs at them.
2. He is very set on things being a certain way (doors closed, chairs in particular places, etc)
3. He smiles about 85% of the day.
4. If he's not smiling, he's screaming, and I'm losing my mind.
5. There is a sweetness about him that words cannot describe.
6. He loves riding in the car.
7. He is the biggest ball of sweet snuggle bum foofyface loviecakes I have ever seen.
8. He imitates things very well, and is always quite proud when he does.
9. He loves music.
10. He likes to be held by people he doesn't know.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
This is my 199th post. On this blog. I think if you combine past blogs, this is like my four thousandth post. Not sure I'm interested in doing a "Four Thousand Things About Nobody" post. Not sure you're interested, actually.
Right now my life is full of repetitive things that are almost immediately undone. Seeing 198, 199 and eventually 200 is just gratifying. It says, "You can do eet Nobody!" It says, "Good heavens you can write a lot about very little!" It says, "Your mom goes to college." And to all of that I say, "That's so true!"
I also wanted to bring up a past milestone. My SIL Cyndi was my 30 thousandth visitor to my blog. Yessiree, that's thirty thousand. Congratulations Cyndi. You will get nothing more than the satisfaction of happening to visit right in between 29,999 and 30,001. But thank you for visiting.
Cyndi is married to my oldest brother Garrett who just had surgery to remove cancer.
Maybe if you are reading this and feel like you want to wish Garrett well, you can leave him a note. Or a joke. He's one of the best story/joke tellers I know. Sometimes you hate yourself after listening to a 20 minute story about fictitious middle eastern characters, just for his totally made up punchline. But you will not begrudge the dude's ability to captivate you. Love you Garrett, hope your recovery continues to go well and quickly.
There have been so many times I have sat at my computer with the intent to post to my blog, with absolutely nothing to write. In case you haven't noticed by now, this is one of those times. To quote J, "I'm sorry for thinking I'm funny when I'm not. And I'm sorry for any future times I will do the same thing."
That's why I married him. He's super funny when he isn't trying. When he's trying, well....
I think I'll end with some Avee randomness.
Avee (at the side of my bed): Mom! Mom!
Mom: Whuuuuuuuu....huh? What's wrong Avee?
Avee: Mom. I felled out of my bed. I felled.out.
Mom: Oh sweetie, I'm sorry, are you okay?
Mom: Okay, go back to bed then.
Avee: Okay Mom. Thanks. Thanks Mom.
(I guess you should also know, her bed is like 8 inches off the ground. And she's always half on half off)
TWICE This Week
A: Here's an apple.
M(I take a bite out of it to break the skin for her because that's what I do when she hands me an apple---we have a very symbiotic relationship when it comes to fruit): Here you go Avee
A: (a look of surprise) I don't want it.
M: Wha? Why did you give it to me.
A: Because I didn't want it.
M: That doesn't make any sense Avee.
Bo: Yeah, it really doesn't Avee.
A: Oops! I just peed in my underwear. Hahaha. Sorry mom. It just came straight down, on the flo. Not the carpet. It's okay. You need to clean it up.
What is with these kids?
Friday, September 5, 2008
I'm probably going to remove this post because I would like for this blog to be a journal-ish type thing for us over the years, and I'm thinking perhaps one particular person won't really be interested in this being preserved.
Although, from the looks of it now, it would seem, there are far worse things that could happen to him.
I take my friend's kids to school in the morning, and she picks them up in the afternoon.
I pretty much don't want Bo walking home, even with older kids because he's like me and a very slow walker and kind of doesn't have a lot of sense when it comes to talking to strangers, not running out into the street, etc. Maybe when he's older. But for now, I reserve the right to be overprotective. And he doesn't like it.
So my friend stopped in after dropping off Bo and said that she thought Bo wasn't too happy about not being allowed to walk home. As she is telling me this, he calls to me from the bathroom. I'm pretty sure he's looking for a "wipe check" as in, "did I get it all" (Yes the perks of this motherhood gig are never ending.)
I stick my head in the bathroom to give the quick, "looks great Bo!" and my face is smacked back by the stench that comes flying out the barely cracked open door.
"Whoa, what did you eat to---"
"It's Sarah's fault!"
"How could this have anything to do with Sarah?"
"She took too long getting in the car after school!"
It's everywhere people.
I readily excuse myself from the stench and the scene and go back and tell the others to clear the vicinity. I tell my friend it wasn't having to walk, it was having to crap that put Bo in a foul mood. Okay, I didn't say crap. Crap's a totally vulgar word. I try not to say crap.
I'll spare you the specifics....no I won't. He had to be hosed down. His shorts had to be hosed down outside. His shoes have been hosed down. If I could have hosed down the bathroom I would have. Instead I used half a roll of paper towels, and 27 Clorox wipes. Spidey briefs will not be salvaged. I had to secure my nostrils in order to complete the task, and I have to say, I am quite skilled at cleaning, while simultaneously spraying Lysol air freshener. I think I might actually be high on Lysol right now.
Mr. I-Can't-Bear-The-Shame-Of-Wearing-Jeans-On-A-Cold-Rainy-Day-If-No-One-Else-Is-But-I-Can-Unload-All-Over-The-Bathroom-And-Not-Bat-An-Eye just went about his merry way as though this wasn't the most disgusting thing I have ever had to deal with in the 5 years since he was born. And possibly in the 27 years before that.
Before I could tackle it, I called J so that he could be VERY clear on what kind of...STUFF I have to deal with at home. He said, "Don't worry! I'll be right home, I'm just the man for this job!"
If you know what J's job is, that's really funny. If you don't know---it's only kind of funny. If you are stuck on the fact that I just blogged about poop all over a bathroom, you probably don't think any of this is funny.
Hope we can still be friends.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
If this was a text I was sending, I would undoubtedly be filling your inbox with zillions of ROTFL and whatnot.
Yo Jamie baby, there's a 15 year old girl I know who had a baby in May. 15. Not-a-ONE designer burp cloth to ease her "suffering". Poor thing. If only it was on every news channel every hour of every day. If only.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
We are well acquainted with croup.
Avee got it when she was 9 months old. I was at my parent's house and she was alseep in a port-a-crib at the foot of my bed. The wheezing and seal barking commenced at about 6 am and I just about died from heart failure. Tiny little 14-15 pound Avee. I called my nursing student sister and frantically begged for her to come and "get the toy out of my baby's throat."
After about 15 minutes of unsucessful fishing, S suggested perhaps she was sick, and didn't actually have something in her throat.
It was December, in Missouri. I threw a coat on her and rushed her to the ER. Because I had no idea what was happening to her.
Funny thing is, by the time we got to the hospital, the wheezing had stopped and her fever had dropped like 2-3 degrees.
That's what cold air does to croup and a fever.
The next time Avee got croup, she was 18 months. I knew what it was, so I didn't worry. One disadvantage though, we lived in Texas, and it was early October. No cold air to be found anywhere. But I wasn't worried.
Then she slept until noon and when she finally woke up her poor little tiny chest was heaving and working so hard to get air in and out. I called the pediatrician's office and they said to bring her in right away, based on the respirations/minute I reported. In the pedi's office, he immediately gave her a steroid shot and when 20-30 minutes later when she still didn't have her oxygen level up high enough, he sent me to the ER. It was then that I got a little worried. It all worked out, obviously. But let's just say, I'm no stranger to croup, and I have Avee to thank for that. It also needs to be noted---Bo was not ever involved in any of this.
So last night he's wheezing and coughing funny and immediately gets hysterical. I'm not sure if I have ever revealed this in its entirity on this blog---but he can work himself up to utter and complete hysteria in less than o.3 seconds. It's insane. And super annoying for me. Most of what is annoying to me is, I don't know how to deal with it. Nothing I say or do seems to help. Although, I am smart enough to know that saying, "I'm seriously about to throw you out that window Bo" isn't entirely effective in the "calming down" department. But he gets so crazy, I kind of lose my mind too. Just so you're clear, we're talking SUPER crazy.
Like the time he had to get a throat swab on his 5th birthday and after screaming hysterically for 15 minutes, I had to ask the doctor, PA, nurse, and medical assistant to all please leave us alone for a few minutes so I could reclaim my son's soul. HOLY SWAB!
And a couple of months ago he got the tiniest microscopic glass shard in this foot (I love the word shard) and couldn't walk. So I told him we needed to get it out. I fought/wrestled/reasoned/bribed/threatened, did everything I knew to do for at least half an hour. I walked out on him 6 times. He was resigned to going to bed for the day at 3 pm. It wouldn't have hurt getting the glass out, but J made the mistake of telling him it might. All of my efforts never even got me CLOSE to his foot.
I was sweating and furious when I went downstairs and threw the tweezers at J and said I was done, or one of us was going to end up in serious trouble.
J went upstairs, I hear brief objections and then nothing more.
J was up there at least 15 minutes but I never heard a peep. Finally J came down and said, "It's just too small, I can't see it." So I had to go back up and help. J worked his subduing magic and I worked my microscopic-shard-finding magic and we managed to get it out of his foot.
Later I asked J how he got Bo to be so quiet. "Oh, I just told him I would sit on him if he didn't hold still." I shook my head in disbelief, "But I threatened nonstop and got no results!"
"Well, he didn't sit still. So I sat on him."
This is a lot of background just for a measly middle of the night story---but I feel it's important that you have all the history and the facts. The facts according to Nobody.
So of course, last night, Bo got hysterical right away. Part of what caused this was being mildly incoherent and part was knowing that whatever was wrong with him was a big enough deal that both mom and dad were awake.
I just talked very quietly and calmly, hoping my example would rub off on him.
"You're totally okay Bo, it's just a cough that's called croup, crying will make it feel worse, screaming definitely won't help, here, take some small sips of water, there you go, oh, wait, no screaming, we don't need the baby waking up, easy there, okay, heeeeeeeeeeey, why are you screaming?!"
J, still laying down says, "Bo, look buddy, you're fine. If you really couldn't breath, you would have died like, an hour ago." And then starts laughing
Now, you need to know. My husband is awesome. Sometimes he says or does things with the kids that are exactly what is necessary or called for and I kind of stand back in awe that he knew how to handle it so perfectly.
And sometimes, he doesn't.
Bo started howling after hearing he would have died an hour ago and hearing his dad laughing "at him". As much as I wanted to laugh about how terribly wrong it all went in a matter of seconds, I bucked up and dealt with it and made J take Bo outside to get cold air.
They came back, Bo snuggled in with us and all was quiet until 7:30.
This morning I asked J, "What did you do with Bo when you took him outside?"
"Oh, I just told him how he'd had croup before and it was no big deal and (blah blah blah)."
"You do know he's never had it, right? It was Avee both times."
"Yeah I know. But it totally calmed him and he doesn't know that it was Avee and not him."
Just a little bit ago I heard Bo telling his friend, "Yeah, I had the funky cough last night. It just sounds funky and it's hawd to get a good bweath but I had it befo' and you just have to go outside in the cold a-yoh to help it go away and crying and screaming makes it wohse."
"What's it called?" his friend asks.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Where else are you going to find such a sweet combination of hammer pants, cagefighting, and LaFawnduh loving?
Where else can you find tot stashing, grapefruit throwing, infinity of boondoggles, sweet tetherball skills, and brown polyester?
I dare you to find puffier sleeves, better basement glamour shots, or a skinnier girl drinking 1% when she could totally drink whole.