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I'm not very good about this blog thing, am I? I should have known that I wouldn't be able to keep up. Like I mentioned in the last post, I tend to run out of words. My work requires a LOT of writing and I may have mentioned that I'm also in school. It's an on-line course that also requires a LOT of writing.  I think we're supposed to be on day 9 now and I've only written 3 blogs. I pulled up my list to see what topics I was supposed to write about and none of them interest me today. If you don't mind, I'm just going to ramble.

I moved away from home when I was 18. I tried college for a while, because that's what you're supposed to do after you graduate high school. Sadly, I was miserably unsuccessful. I lived there (in Wilmington, NC) for three years, but was only enrolled for 1 1/2 years. After that, I moved to Colorado. I picked Colorado because 1. I'd never been to Colorado and 2. a distant cousin offered me a place to stay until I got my feet on the ground.

When I left North Carolina, I was actually running away. I still don't fully understand what I was running away from, but I wish now that I hadn't run so far and so fast. I think that by going so far away, I alienated myself. I will never again belong in North Carolina, but at the same time, I think I will always consider it my home.

I go back to visit from time to time--my family still lives there. One sister lives with me in Colorado and a second sister just moved to Ohio. Everyone else is in North Carolina. (By "everyone" I mean my folks, 8 siblings and their spouses, and 20 nieces and nephews.) I've been gone for 18 years now. That's 18 years worth of holidays, birthdays, "barn raisings", personal achievements, and heartaches that I missed out on. I missed weddings and anniversaries and births and all the celebrations and bonding associated with those events. I wasn't there to help pull the stump or rebuild the deck. When I go back, I am reminded of how much I missed. I am reminded that I no longer belong there. It makes me sad. I am an outsider in my own family. I am a stranger to my nieces and nephews.

But in Colorado, I'm great. People like me and they invite me to holidays, birthdays, and "barn raisings". I help celebrate weddings and anniversaries and births. I volunteer at the school in throughout the community. People recognize me in the grocery store and stop me to say, "hi" and ask about day. I exchange keys with my neighbors and send over warm cookies from every batch. People here know me. I belong here.

That's okay, isn't it? For a long time I didn't think it was. But I've changed my mind. North Carolina is not my home, it's just my home state. Colorado is my home now. It's a pretty cool place to call home.

Slack-ass

I only made it two days into a 30-day challenge. That, my friends, is the story of my life. I’m a total slack ass. It was actually a little after 10PM on Day 3 when I realized I missed the boat. I was in bed trying to go to sleep. That’s when I replay my day and think of all the things I did right, wrong, or—as in this case—didn’t do at all. The next day I saw that I was supposed to write about something I have to forgive myself for and I realized that it was a subconscious mental block. We all have skeletons in our closet—things that we are ashamed of—things we wish we could either re-do or totally erase. In a perfect world, we forgive ourselves of these unspoken crimes. I chose not to. I don’t think I will ever forgive myself, but make no mistake: I spend Every—Single—Day—Of my life trying desperately to write those wrongs. I believe that if I do enough good and bring enough light into the world, then maybe…just maybe I can make up for it. But I don’t expect to ever forgive myself. I knew better.

 Day 04 (yesterday) I was supposed to write about “Something you have to forgive someone for.” I spent the day researching and writing an assignment for school. By the end of the day, I had run out of words. I have writing assignments that I have to do for work today, so I figure I better get caught up on this blog before I run out of words again.

I’ve been told many times by many people that I’m a good writer and I believe it to be true. But it doesn’t come easily for me. I might spend an hour or more writing just one paragraph. I will read and re-read an email half a dozen times, tweaking a word here, adding a comma there. I don’t know that I’ve ever really pleased with my writing as much as I just think it is close enough. I usually just get tired and run out of words.

Back to the blog writing assignment—I don’t think I have anything I need to forgive another person for. I don’t have space in my heart, mind, or life for grudges. Aside from that, I think the world’s been pretty good to me.

Day 5 (today) is the day I write about something I hope to do in my life. I mentioned that in my address to day 3: I truly aspire to make the world a better place and I believe I have the ability to do so—we all do. We make the world a better place with random acts of kindness. When I (or you) smile at a stranger on the street, I (you…we) spread kindness. If I see someone wearing a pretty dress, I tell her and she usually lights up. If I’m in the elevator with a man who smells nice, I tell him and he usually stands a little taller. In both instances, these strangers walk away feeling a little more confident. Chances are, they will pass those compliments along to someone else and slowly, but surely, we bring joy to people’s lives and make the world a better place.  We all want to be acknowledged.

So the next time you’re in the elevator with someone who smells good—tell him or her. I dare you.

Day 2: Something you love about yourself

I love to live! I have an almost unquenchable thirst for life. I’m almost always up for an adventure—whether it’s a cross-country road trip or a newly discovered park in an adjacent neighborhood; a lick of my daughter’s sour candy or an exotic new ethnic food; I want to taste it, smell it, hear it, see it and feel it. I want to fill a pool with it and bathe in it—wallow around like a pig in slop and cover my entire physical being with life!
I think the greatest testament to my love of life is that my love is unconditional. I may not “like” all things about my life or my life experiences, but I accept and love them as my own. My willingness to open my eyes and my heart to the inevitableness of discomfort has allowed me to live life even harder.

I offer you this as a lighthearted example: I was cleaning my house on Sunday and sweating profusely. It was HOT and I don’t have central air conditioning. I was already crabby because—as I mentioned yesterday—I do NOT like to clean. That it was so hot was only making me more crabby. At one point, I flopped down in a chair and took a long drink of water. As I drank the water, I could feel the sweat beading on my head and running down my face, neck, and back. It struck me as amazing that I could actually feel my body sweating. As the droplet of perspiration swelled on my forehead, I resisted the urge to wipe it away. My patience was rewarded as I soon experienced the sensation of several small droplets joining into a gentle cascade down the contour of my face, leaving behind a trail of damp, cool skin. Twenty seconds ago, I was hot and sweaty and pissed off. Now I’m marveling at the mechanisms of the human body to cool itself. I look around my small house. I’m almost 40 years old and my furniture is still mostly a collection of cast offs from friends and relatives. No matter how much I clean and straighten, my home retains its cluttered, somewhat shabby, “lived-in” look and feel. But it’s mine. It represents who I am and what I stand for. And I love it just as much as I love the feel of that cold water rushing down my throat, into my stomach, and throughout my body. If I keep cleaning house, I might get to feel that same swig of water dampen my hairline.

30-Day Blog Challenge: Day 1

The 30-day blog challenge suggests that I spend Day 1 writing about what I hate about myself. Well, for one thing, I don’t hate anything about myself. Fact is I’m pretty awesome. Secondly, why would I start a blog by talking about bad things? I don’t want to write about bad things any more than you want to read them! Of course, no one is perfect. I have nothing to fear or hide, so how about I introduce you to some of my characteristics that might be somewhat less than desirable during certain situations. As you read, please understand that I embrace these idiosyncrasies as part of what makes me so awesome.

1. I cry when I’m happy or excited. No joke. Like, really cry…tears, snot, hic-ups…I go all out. Have you ever been to the Football Hall of Fame in Canton, OH? We were there 14 or 15 years ago—the summer after the Denver Broncos won their first Super Bowl. We watched highlights of the Bronco’s season in some super fancy theater. When it was all over, I was clapping feverishly and sobbing like a baby, “GO BRONCOS!!” I still don’t think my then 10-year-old stepson has forgiven me. He was so embarrassed; he practically crawled out of the theater on his hands and knees.

My husband and I played hooky from work one day and drove up to Georgetown, CO to ride the steam train. After we loaded the train, the conductor blew the whistle and yelled, “All Aboard!” I burst into tears. I may have frightened some of the small children.

I cried at the rodeo, too. It was right at the very start, the lights went out and the coliseum was almost completely black. The “Beef—it’s what’s for dinner” song started blaring, lasers were everywhere and about two dozen people came into the arena on horses—both people and horses had lights all over them. It was one of the coolest things I have ever seen and I showed my appreciation with a flood of tears. We were about four contestants into the bull riding before I pulled myself together again. My husband won’t go to rodeos with me anymore.

2. I always have to be planning something. I scour the internet for free family activities I can do on weekends with my daughter. I am always thinking of what needs to be done to the house next. I spend almost an entire week planning the next week’s menu. I can’t go into a store without a list. I will spend months planning a vacation. The last vacation we took, we met my husband’s family in Missouri. I got everyone to agree on a date and location and I made all the arrangements. His sister drove from TN, his brother and dad came from NE and we drove from CO. It took about 3 months to make all the arrangements, including planning meals and what to pack. I spent half of the ride to the vacation planning the next vacation. My husband said, “PLEASE—one at a time!”

3. The only thing I dislike more than cleaning my house is a dirty house. That’s right—read it again.

4. I do not like being wet. I’m the freak at the swimming pool walking around with my hands sticking up out of the water. I can’t be in the water for more than about 10 minutes at a time. It freaks me out. Of course, there are few things that I enjoy more than the feel of clean skin. So much so, that I often take two showers a day.

I think that’s about it. Not bad, eh? I told you I was awesome.

Last night, I finally made good on that 2-year-old threat to move my alarm clock across the room. Then at 5:10 this morning, my husband was very conveniently returning from the bathroom at the exact time the alarm clock went off. "Hey, Babe. Be a saint and push that snooze button for me, would ya?" Unfortunately, when the alarm sounded again at 5:19, he was snug as a bug in bed with me. UGH!

But I did it. I dragged my happy ass out of bed and I stayed up! I have always said that the hardest part of my day is the part when I have to get out of bed. Once I'm up, I'm up. I brushed my teeth, pulled on a t-shirt and shorts, laced up my sneakers and was out on the trail by 5:32.

I love being outside at the crack of dawn. It's a fresh day, and the possibilities are endless. Everything feels crisp and clean and in Colorado, even August mornings are brisk. And the trail I walk is right across the street from me. The area is full of wildlife. I always see deer and today, I saw a big ole fat raccoon. Sometimes I see coyote, fox, rabbits, and there are hundreds of birds. I'm also amazed at how busy the trail is at 5:30 in the morning. It's quite obvious that I am not the only one who enjoys this time of day.

So anyway--I got in two miles. Now, let's see if I can keep it up. My goal is to average 7,500 steps a day. That may not sound like much, but if you consider that I sit on my butt for 9-hours a day, 7,500 steps is a LOT!

Long time no write

Wow...It's been awhile since I blogged, huh? My first reaction is to claim that not much has happened, but we all know that's not true.

My husband lost his job in March 2009 and we have since decided to start our own business. It's named, "Mark Made It". Mark (my husband) builds bird houses, bird feeders, bird baths, and butterfly houses. We have a Web site (www.Markmadeit.com) and are at the Parker Farmers Market part-time this summer.

So this bird thing has really started to consume us. I have a crabapple tree outside of my kitchen window. Its a beautiful tree and we filled the tree with whimsical nick knacks and a variety of bird feeders. We've started sitting at the kitchen table longer and longer every night to watch the birds. Then, after a few weeks and a couple hundred arguments over what type of bird is feeding, we bought a couple bird books.

I can honestly say that since March, bird watching from my kitchen table has all but consumed the entire family. We have a pair of binoculars, two bird books, a camera and tripod on the table at ALL times. We almost wet out pants the first day we saw a grosbeak. Then a few days later, I swear I saw an oriole. Seriously--that window gets more attention than the television.

So, anyway. Go check out my Web site and order a feeder. Meanwhile, I'll think of something funny to write about.

...a snip it from my mind...

My husband has his grandfather's kitchen table and buffet. He's has it in storage for years. He finally decided to get rid of it, so he packed it all up and hauled it to a furniture consignment shop. The owner of the shop cleaned the hell out of this furniture. It didn't even look the like the same stuff. It was amazing. So the furniture sat in the shop for 3 plus months and didn't sell, so we brought it home and stashed it in the garage until we could figure out what to do with it.

This furniture is really pretty. The buffet is in good shape, but the table is fragile. I mean, it's a hundred years old and it wasn't the sturdiest table to begin with. So anyway, we completely fell in love with the polished up pieces and shortly after getting the Christmas decorations down, we decided to re-arrange the front room so we could accommodate it. The plan was that we would get rid of the book case and move the couch to where the book case was. We'd set the table under the front window and keep a picture puzzle on it all the time. The buffet would replace the hutch.

I emptied the dang-blasted six-foot book case (that was packed to full capacity) and hutch (where I kept everything that I didn't know where to keep), hauled the "old" stuff to the garage, swept, moped and dusted, then we hauled the "new" stuff in. It didn't fit. Not even close. I mean, we measured everything before we moved it, and it fit, but it didn't "fit"...know what I mean? The wood was too dark, the table stuck out into the room too far, the balance was all wrong...it just didn't work. It looked like crap.

We hemmed and hawed and bickered, then hauled the "new" stuff BACK into the garage and the "old" stuff BACK inside. I busted my butt all afternoon, cleaning and moving and I have nothing to show for it. We did end up moving the couch and the chairs around a little bit, so it does look different, but it isn't what I expected. And those dust monsters that resided under the couch have been evicted. And my floors are moped. And my hutch and bookcase are clean. Aside from that...

But let me tell you something, people. I scored BIG brownie points. How many women would re-arrange her main room (which is 1/3 of my entire house) to accommodate her husband's grandfather's cheap, old furniture? Unfortunately, these days, my brownie points are worth about as much as a Zimbabwe dollar. (For those of you who may not know, earlier this week Zimbabwe released a new 50 BILLION dollar note--it's worth $1.25USD.)

Meanwhile, I have a substantial pile of "stuff" next to my bed that needs a home.

Where does all this "stuff" come from? And why do I have so much of it? I just don't know what to do with it! Do I keep it, do I throw it out? What if I throw it away, but then find out that I need it?

Side A: NO! No. I don't need it. "When in doubt, throw it out!" That's what I always say! Why do I need a 10-year-old map of Washington DC? If I go to Washington DC, I'll get a new map. Dang-blasted things are free for crying out loud.

Side B: But it's a souvenir from our two-week, cross country road trip. I could put it in a scrap book along with the 8 rolls of 36-exposure film that we got double prints of. And those pictures are stored in those boxes along with every other picture I ever took over the last 14 years.

Side A: Okay, then fine...keep the map. But what the hell are you going to DO with it?!?!

Side B: You're right. I'll throw it away.

Side A: NO! WAIT--you could decoupage the back of that bookcase with it!

Scared Stiff

I work in a suite (office) with only one other woman. The suite (office) across the hall from us is also very small (4 people at maximum capacity, but throughout the day to share food, borrow coffee creamer, or just to chat--whatever. So, late Friday afternoon, my friend Sharon comes into the suite. I can't see the door to my suite from my office, but I know it's her because no one ever comes into our office except the girls across the hall. When I sit at my desk, there is a very large window into the suite on my left and a window to the outside on my right. So I don't get up from my seat, but I turn to look out my window into the suite. Sharon is standing RIGHT at the window wearing a stupid paper old-lady mask.

Now folks, let me tell you, I was all arms, legs, and lungs. You'd have thought someone plugged my ass in. She scared me so badly that I screamed so loud, that I scared her so badly, that she screamed. Then I started laughing. We laughed until we cried. When it was all over and our heart rates returned to normal, I congratulated her with a, "THAT WAS AWESOME!!!"

That incident is definitely rated in the top 5 of my all time greatest scares. My only regret is that we didn't catch it on video.

Happy New Year!

Psst...is it over yet? Whew--that was a close one! There for a while, I wasn't sure I was going to make it out live. On one hand, it seems like October was just yesterday. On the other hand, it feels like two years has past (at warp speed) since October.I'm just glad it's over. Don't get me wrong--it was fun. Crazy, but fun.


And now it's January 2009. I'm ready for 2009. I only have one new year's resolution: "Be happy."

That's the short answer. The long version includes:
I am going to be a better wife and mother.
I'm going to get in shape (I only gained 3 pounds over the holidays!) and I'm taking my daughter with me (she needs to get in shape, too). And we're going to have fun doing it.
I'm going to give more (time and talent as well as money) to charity.
I'm going to go to church regularly.

And I'm going to learn Fair Isle.

I have a pair of socks I need to finish (the ones I started in October). I stepped on the bag and broke the needles. I ordered more needles and got word that they shipped today. Aside from that, the only project I have going right now is a dress-up shawl for my daughter and a victory scarf for my sister (she deployed today with Air Force).

So...wish me luck and I'll keep you posted.

OMG--speaking of keeping you posted...I need to update you on the child whose mother was in jail. Mom got out of jail. I met her just after Thanksgiving. She gave me a HUGE hug, looked me in the eye and said, "I can't thank you enough for taking care of my baby while I was gone. She talked about you every time she came to visit and I just can't tell you how much you meant to her." I told her it was no problem, that her daughter, "...is a delightful child and we enjoy having her." This child has been to our house several times over the last month and I've chatted with her mother on as many occasions. I still have not gotten up the courage to ask about her rap sheet. Until I do, that child will have to play at my house.

Holiday Fun

OMG--has it really been 7 weeks since I posted? Wow...


I think you knew I went to Phoenix for business. I left late Sunday afternoon. Monday morning my dad called. My aunt (who lives in Denver) is dying and my mom and dad are coming to Denver. Can they stay with me. "Sure!" I tell him, "Except that I'm in Phoenix." I owe my husband BIG time for that one. Not only did he host my folks while I was gone, but he had to give them our bed because our spare bed furniture was in the garage. I got back to Denver Friday night and my folks were around through the weekend. It is always so good to have them. I just love it.


November just flew by. I don't know what happened to November. I do know that Thanksgiving Day was a pajama day at my house. We watched movies and napped and ate turkey all day. It was GREAT! So great, in fact, that we stayed in our pajamas practically all weekend. And like icing on the cake, the weather was even crappy, so I didn't feel guilty about it!


So December is almost gone. My co-worker just hollered "Christmas is NEXT WEEK!" I choked on my tea. I always think I'm ready, but I'm never really ready.


Saturday was the carriage parade in Parker. It was an incredibly beautiful day with highs near 60, so I planned to take my daughter. I called V's mom and asked if V could come with us. Meanwhile D came over to play, then L. They both wanted to go, too! How do I get myself into these situations?


Oh well--we got an excellent, sunny spot to watch the parade with the wind at our backs...POI-FECT! Only I soon realized it was maybe too perfect...like not-even-on-the-parade-route-perfect.

So we moved to a spot in front of the speakers. While we waited for the parade to start, the girls entertained themselves (and all those around us) by dancing jigs...

The parade was full of horses of all shapes and sizes, but our favorite were the miniatures. This little fella's name is "Tiny". We love "Tiny" so much, in fact, that we got into a fight over who "called" Tiny first.

And then there was "Buster". Buster is anything but tiny! Can you see that Buster has antlers on his head?
Well, of course he wore antlers...he was pulling none other than the big guy himself! The girls were SO excited because, "Did you see that? Mrs. Clause WAVED to ME!" "I know, I know" another one screamed, "She waved to ME, TOO!"

I agreed to treat the girls to ice cream, so on our way to the ice cream parlor, we found a saddle and a step stool next to the horse statue. How could I say no?? Each girl got to climb aboard for her picture. This little one is mine.

And then we stopped to pet the reindeer.

By the time we got ice cream, I was totally over it all. The girls wined and complained the whole time, "How come I got my ice cream last?" "Why does M get to hold your hand?" "I wanted to sit on the top step!" "How come SHE got a bowl and a spoon?" Over and over and over they cried, "That's not fair!"

I always say "I'm never doing THAT again!" But I will. I always do.

Miscellaneous

(Deep sigh) Is it Friday yet?

Saturday was cold and wet in Denver. So was Sunday. And Monday. Tuesday started out nice enough (cold, but sunny), but now it's yucky again. This weather just makes me want to curl up in a soft, dark, quiet place.

I've been testing out some lace patterns. I think I mentioned that I found a website that suggested I begin knitting lace washcloths. The first one was feather and fan and it turned out nicely. Well, except for the fact that three quarters of the way through, I knit one row twice and it reversed the pattern. It still looks nice and really--it's a washcloth.

Based on my success at the feather and fan, I opted to skip "level two" and dive into the snowflake pattern. I knit the 5th row six times before I got it right. I'm still only 10 rows into it, but I'm not sure I like it. I figure I need to repeat at least three times before I judge.

Meanwhile, I dropped by the library last night and picked up a book about lace, one about cables (hats and scarves), one about knitting two socks at a time, and a couple cookbooks.

I'm still dieting. It sucks, but it's working. I topped out at 184 at the end of August and have managed to whittle myself down to 172. It has not been easy--under any stretch of the imagination. I get up at 4:45AM so I can workout for 40 minutes before work. In case any of you were wondering...it is REALLY dark at 4:45AM...and cold. Cold and dark.

I've started eating more whole grains. More specifically, flax seed meal. I add it to my oatmeal and it's dee-lish! It says you can use it to replace eggs in recipes. I decided to try it out last weekend by replacing one of the three eggs in a muffin recipe. I soaked the flax meal as instructed, then cracked the other two eggs into the batter, then realized that the recipe only called for two eggs. Oh well--we'll try again this weekend.

I also bought some wheat germ and wheat bulgur. You're supposed to be able to replace 25% of flour in a recipe with wheat germ. That's why I bought it, but I haven't tried it yet. My dad used to put wheat germ on damn-near everything he ate. It tastes great on cold cereal, yogurt, peanut butter sandwiches, blah, blah, blah. As for the bulgur--It's one of the main ingredients in the cabbage rolls I'm making for dinner tonight. Don't tell my husband.

FOs and WIPs

Okay--the fact that I started these in April, I think, only makes this FO that much sweeter. I just finished these beauties on Monday. I'm not sure if they fit my daughter's feet anymore, but I wasn't ambitious enough to make them any larger than I did. Behold my first ever pair of socks! I also crocheted a hat and blanket for my stepson's mother, who is expecting a baby in November. I started this project in August and finished it the day of the baby shower (September 13).

And I crocheted this hat in August for the baby's Christmas gift--matching boots to follow.
This furry stuff on the hat was a joke. I couldn't see squat, so I just kinda made it up and put "stitches" where I thought they should be. To the non-crocheter/knitter, it looks fantastic. People who know...know it's jacked up. Fortunately, I'm a "good enough" kind of person and I think it's great.

I'm working on this scarf for my daughter. I think it's too wide, but am not bothered by it enough to rip it out. I think it will be just fine. I also expect to make her a hat to match.

Meanwhile, I'm working on the traveling scarves as they arrive. I have to say, these scarves are starting to look pretty crazy! It's getting more and more challenging to find colors to "match".

I expect to cast on a pair of socks for my mother, but am nervous about getting them finished in time for Christmas. At the speed I knit, I'll be lucky to get those socks finished by Christmas 2009. So I thought maybe I'd knit her a lacy shawl instead. Based on the reaction this statement has gotten from some experienced knitters, that ain't gonna happen either.

I'm slow and I'm really very green (meaning inexperienced). The only thing I have going for me is that I'm fearless...and I'm a "good enough" kind of person. I don't care if I screw up, it's not like anything will be ruined...Just take it out, right? What could go wrong? But my mom is a life-long knitter, so I want her gift to be perfect. I think I can do it. I've got 2 and a half months...I think I can do it.

Please Advise

My daughter has become good friends with a child we’ll call A. A is delightful, well mannered little girl with a vivid imagination. She is well dressed, clean, and healthy little girl. On Sunday, we took this child on a hike with us. Her father sent her over with a hoodie (in case it got cold), a bottle of water, an apple, and a banana all carefully placed in a backpack. A also handed me a piece of paper with her father’s cell phone number, “in case of an emergency.”

Sounds responsible, yes? I certainly thought so. Which is why I was so surprised to hear my daughter’s answer to my question, “Are A’s mother and father home?” My daughter tells me that A “…doesn’t have a mother. Her mother is in jail.”

WTF?!? JAIL??? “What (in my head: in the *$@%*&$@ name of all that is good and holy) is her mother in jail for? My daughter tells me she doesn’t know, “She (A) doesn’t like to talk about it because it makes her sad.”

Wow. My daughter’s friend’s mother is in jail. That makes me uncomfortable.

Fast forward two days. I’m walking my daughter to school this morning and she says, “A is excited because her brother got out of jail yesterday.”

I screamed so loud, only the dogs could hear it: BROTHER????? Then in a normal tone I say to my child, “I didn’t know A had a brother.” My child tells me, “Yup…and he just got out of jail.” Then, before I could regain my senses, she continues, “You know what is weird?” I’m thinking I could write a book on weird right now, but decide to humor her. “What’s weird?” She tells me, “A’s mom is in jail and J’s (I haven’t met “J”, but apparently he is A’s next door neighbor.) dad is in jail.

O-M-G--WHAT KIND OF NEIGHBORHOOD AN I LIVING IN?!?!

Folks—I could go on about this for a really long time, but let’s cut to the chase…Do I have a right to know why A’s mom is in jail? Can I just walk down there and ask Dad, “Why is Mom in jail?” And what about Brother? I’m even more concerned about Brother because he’s OUT!” Is he living with them?

Help me. What do I say? What do I do?

Parenting 101

My daughter has not been feeling well (she has a cold). When she isn't happy, she makes DAMN sure everyone around her is as unhappy as she is. I swear, it was about the longest weekend of my life. She gave me a hard time from the minute she woke up Saturday morning, to the minute she fell asleep Sunday night.

I finally got her into the bath tub at 7:30 Sunday night. This is good news for me because bath time means we are only 3 steps away from bed time. She wasn't even in the tub for 5 minutes before the door bell rings. My daughter hears the door bell and yells from the tub, "WHO IS IT?" I told her, "Veronica and Devon."

My daughter starts to scream and cry, "I WANTED TO PLAY WITH THEM!!" Never mind that she's been playing with them since 11AM. Never mind Devon JUST left our house not 20 minutes earlier. My child starts thrashing and screaming and carrying on. I had to pull her out of the tub because #1, she was flooding my bathroom, #2, she's going to drown, and #3, it was Sunday night and I had had ENOUGH!

I wish I had video taped it. As angry as I was with her, I can't help but see the humor in it (NOW--after the fact). You know how slippery kids are when they're wet, right? My daughter weighs 75 pounds and she did NOT want to get out of the tub ('cause she KNEW she was in trouble). It was like wrestling a 300-pound tuna out of the tub and up two flights of stairs. Consider too that the bathroom floor is wet and I am barefoot. Now just close your eyes and use your imagination.

Uh huh...That little confrontation damn-near killed me.

Lesson learned: Next time, just drain the tub.

6 Random things

Ruth tagged me with the "6 Random Things" meme.

Here are the rules:
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post.
5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know your entry is up.

Alright, here we go...

1. I prefer to drink lukewarm water (as opposed to cold). If I'm at a restaurant, I order water without ice. At the water cooler, I top off every refill with a splash of scalding hot water.

2. I've had the same cell phone for two years and I still don't know the number.


3. My sneezes come out like machine gun fire. The most I've ever sneezed in one "fit" is 13, but my average 5-7.


4. I LOVE to mix up my food. I stir my corn into my mashed potatoes, then dip my pork chops into it. I crumble pastries and add them to my cereal. I mix potato salad with baked beans and spoon it onto my hamburgers. I rip up grilled cheese sandwiches and float them in my tomato soup. I even line my peanut butter sandwiches with potato chips. In fact, I had a fajita salad for lunch to day. First thing I did was dump the black beans on top, then added a couple heaping spoonfuls of salsa and a dollop of sour cream. Then I stirred it all up. I LOVE to mix up my food!


5. I don't wear antiperspirant. I think there is too much unknown about what that stuff does to a person. And besides, it's just not natural to stop your body from sweating. However, for the sake of those around me (including myself!), I DO wear deodorant.


6. I can't stand to have my hands wet. I HATE to have my hands wet. I can't stay in the swimming pool for more than 15 minutes before I start to panic.

Now, the rules say that I'm supposed to "tag" six people, but I'm going to skip that part. However, if you choose to play along, let me know.

Ouch!

My daughter fell out of bed Wednesday night. She sleeps in a regular twin bed, so it wasn't that bad of a fall...not like falling out of the top bunk of a triple bunk bed (and I would know). Thursday morning, we told her what happened and she had no recollection of it at all. But we had proof... OUCH!! That had to hurt. How can she not remember it?

It started raining about 7:30 last night and it hasn't stopped. It's the really nice, soft rain that makes you want to stay up all night and listen. Today is very gray and wet. It's the kind of day that makes me want to stay in bed with a book. I just (last night) finished Seven Days to the Sea: An Epic Novel of the Exodus by Rebecca Kohn. I don't think I liked it. Ms. Kohn made Yehveh (God) a very angry and unforgiving God. Moses was not "blessed", but rather punished by being chosen, almost to the point where one might consider it torture. It is unfortunate that she made Him so aweful, but the real story was about the relationship between Moses' sister (Miryam) and his wife (Tzipporah). That aspect of the story was really very lovely.

Up next, Mirror Mirror by Gregory Maguire. I've read several of Gregory Maguire's books: Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister is the story of Cinderella as told by one of the wicked stepsisters and Wicked is the story of the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz. (I also read Son of a Witch, but that one just confused me.) Mirror Mirror is, of course, the story of Snow White. I'm excited to get started on the book. Gregory Maguire is, in my opinion, a brilliant author.

I'm one of THEM!

OMG--I did it. Last night, at 11:32 PM, I crossed the line. I became one of "THEM"...one of "those moms". The kind of mom that stirs the pot...throws fuel on the fire. The kind of mom whose name makes teachers and principals moan and twitch. And I didn't even know what I was doing until I was done.

I emailed the principal of my daughter's elementary school at 11:32 PM to demand an investigation of another mother's actions. (I can't believe I'm saying this out loud.) It gets worse...I emailed the mother of whom I am demanding an investigation at 6:28AM and asked that she explain her actions. Then I forwarded her reply to the principal. At 9:50AM, the principal called me at work and said, "I am in receipt of all three of your emails."

I'm a trouble maker...a snitch...a whistle blower...I'm a--a--a--a tattle tale.

Here's what happened. The PTO meeting ends and four of us moms pull to the side and are scrambling to finalize some last minute details regarding the Fall Festival before one mom leaves town. The offender is standing at the edge of our circle saying, "Call me before you buy candy. I have gift cards. Make sure you call me first. You can use my gift cards. I have gift cards that you can use to buy the candy. Make sure you call me. Promise you'll call me." After several minutes of this, we recognized that the offender is not falling for the "ignore her and she'll go away" tactic, so I turn to her and say, "What gift cards? What are you talking about?"

Offender: "I have gift cards at Wal-Mart that you can use to buy candy and stuff."
Me: "Where did you get the gift card?"
Offender: "I asked for it. I go to stores and give them a letter asking for donations and they give me gift cards. It's what I do, Rachel. I raise money."

I turned away and continued to ignore her. The woman would not leave us alone. In fact, she walking out with us.

I was so fired up after I got home that I couldn't sleep. The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. Under whose authority was this woman soliciting funds? Who is keeping tabs on her? How much money has she collected on "behalf of" the school? And what is she spending the money on? Does the principal of the school even know what she's doing? So I fire off an email to the principal and ask, in short, "WTF?"

At 6:30 this morning, I'm just as upset as I was last night, so I fire off another email, this time I send the email to the offender and cc the principal. I ask the offender, on whose behalf is she collecting the money (school or school organization)? I ask for a copy of the letter used, for a list of organizations from whom offender has solicited funds, a list of who has donated, how much was donated, for what purpose were the funds solicited, and what has been purchased with the funds? I tell her that what I want to see is a checks and balance system. I want to know that someone (besides the offender) is monitoring those efforts. Then I say, "I'm concerned that there are are ethical and legal ramifications to what you are doing." Ka-POW-yow!

Okay, in all fairness, I really don't think this lady would do anything unethical with the money she collects on behalf of the school. But at this point, I'm not sure that she could prove that she hasn't. And I just can't believe that no one is monitoring her! You can't just go willy-nilly around town asking for donations to an organization without that organization's blessing. The school is responsible for every penny this woman collects and NO ONE IS WATCHING HER!!

...at least not until now. Like I said at the top, I threw fuel on the fire. I was told by the principal that he had a meeting with Ms. Offender in his office in 10 minutes. He is going to "reign her in" and get a full account of all activities up to this point, and will monitor her moving forward.

Yes, my friends, we can chalk this up as another victory for Team Justice. My work here is done.



You know what the ugliest part about it all is? By retelling this story, I've become one of the gossip moms, too. Every time I tell the story, I contribute to the "drama" of PTO. I further strengthen the perception that PTO is a bunch of gossipy, catty, moms. THAT's the part that makes me the most uncomfortable. The entire time I type this up, I have this mental image of a glass house haunting me. I think this little episode will force me to take a closer look at myself, at what I say and how I behave.

Umm...FOOD

I took this idea from Rocks Waves Beach. I think of myself as an adventurous eater. There are few things I don't like and I've never been offered a food I won't try, so I was surprised at how poorly I "scored" on this exercise.

The list is from Very Good Taste on the 100 foods any self respecting omnivore should try at least once. Like to play along?
1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here athttp://www.verygoodtaste.co.uk/ linking to your results. The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:
(note that items with an * indicate foods that I had to look up.)
1. Venison
2. Nettle tea (no, but my daughter got "stung" by nettles once)
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding* (at first, I thought it meant chocolate-it means 'blood' pudding)
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush* (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi *
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns * (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese (I would probably have a hard time eating this if I knew what it was)
26. Raw Scotch bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche* (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda * (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
31. Wasabi peas (LOVE 'EM!!)
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi*
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea * (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects (I really think I'd have a hard time with this.)
43. Phaal*
44. Goat’s milk (but I like goat cheese)
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more (oh, baby!)
46. Fugu*
47. Chicken Tikka Masala * (but based on what I read, I think I'd like it!)
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi *
53. Abalone
54. Paneer * (based on the amount of Indian food I eat, surely I've eaten this, but I can't be positive)
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine *
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin* (I looked this up and it's clay. Do you think it means those clay pancakes that people in really poor countries eat when they don't have food?)
64. Currywurst
65. Durian * (um--based on what I read, I'm not sure I could get passed the smell)
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette * (ewwwwww!!!)
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe (I just read an article about this in the paper a few weeks ago and it's apparently making a come back.)
74. Gjetost, or brunost * (sounds good!)
75. Roadkill (Whether I ever eat it would depend on what it was and how long ago it was killed)
76. Baijiu *
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong *
80. Bellini * (sounds fantastic!!)
81. Tom yum (or as I like to call it, "Tom yum yum yum")
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky *
84. Tasting menu at a 3-Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse (I just don't see it ever happening)
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa *
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor * (sounds fantastic!!)
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

Pranksters raise pranksters

I love a good prank and this prank was GOOD!

My brother leaves for work just about the same time the sun comes up. So, night before last, after he went to bed, his 17-year-old son, J and a few of J's buddies brought "Buffalo Billy" over and got him all sat up in the passenger seat of my brother's van.

Rumor has it Ol' Buffalo Billy startled my brother right good. My brother is a good sport and this is what he had to say about it:

"My first instinct was to protect the family. I dove head first into the van, couple quick chops to its neck to stun him, then drug him out in the yard where I could really go to work on him. Actually, he gave me a pretty good start. Doctor said the burns from the coffee I spilled on my hand should heal nicely with little to no scarring. I gotta admit, I got a little teary when I found out J**** was behind it. Makes a Dad proud to see his son pull one off like that!"

I couldn't agree with you more, bro...I couldn't agree with you more.

My daughter scared me the other day. I went to daycare to pick her up and she was in the bathroom. I hid against the wall and was going to scare her when she came out of the bathroom. Little did I know, she knew I was there and she was on the other side of the wall waiting to scare me. She poked her little head around the corner and very softly said, "Boo".

I almost wet my pants. I screamed out loud and did what I like to call my hallelujah dance--I fall to my knees with my arms waving in the air. I do this dance more than I care to admit, but on this particular day, I did the dance in front of about 30 elementary school children, half a dozen parents and teachers, including the childcare director--who was on the phone.

She got me GOOD! I was so proud.

Oh no she din-nt!

I home today with a new plumber. This one comes very highly recommended by a man that my husband has worked with for a dozen years. He just showed up a few minutes ago and I like him already.

So the plumber is down in the crawl space dinkering around with the hot water heater. I make myself comfortable on the couch and cozy up with my traveling scarf. As I start to knit, my needles keep snagging on the yarn...what the hell? I can't knit. The damn yarn keeps sticking--yes, sticking--to the bamboo needles. Upon closer inspection, it appears that someone--I assume it was a 6-and-three-quarters-year-old girl, but I'm just guessing--tried to "sharpen" my bamboo knitting needles with the pencil sharpener.

I'm not real sure how I feel about that yet. I must admit that I am ever so slightly amused. (Think eensy weensy teeny tiny amusement.)

Anyone else had their needles sharpened for them?