Unplug and Reconnect

I spend way too much time in front of either a computer screen or a tv screen - not really doing anything constructive. Just sitting and zoning out. We don't have the fancy schmancy cable package with hundreds of channels, but the 50 or so channels that we do have don't usually have much on them anyway. Why do I do it? Couldn't my time be better spent doing something else. So that is this week's challenge to myself. To unplug and reconnect. To unplug my fat ace from the chair or the bed and to reconnect with my kids, my husband, or my love of reading. I challenge you to do the same. Get outside and suck up some sunshine ! It will do you a lot more good than watching Jersey Shore - I promise !

When They Grow Up - Part 1

My kids are always telling us about all of the fabulous things that that they are going to do when they grow up. Well Derek and I have been writing a list of all of the fabulous things that we are going to do when they grow up too. The list grew every time we went to use something of ours and it was gone, every time that we went to eat something that we had bought just for us and it was gone, or every time that we found something that the children had torn up and forgot to tell us about. This morning I went to use one of the three pairs of scissors that I keep in the bathroom drawer to cut open one of those little conditioner packets that are impossible to open without scissors and guess what ... there were not any scissors in the drawer. Some evil elves must have broken into the house in the middle of the night and stolen all three pairs of scissors. They are probably the same elves that leave all of the cabinet doors open in the kitchen, leave their shoes in the middle of the hallway, drink the $6 per bottle cranberry juice that I bought just for me, and use my nail polish to paint with. Those damn elves !!

The other day Rachel borrowed the van to drive a few of her friends down to Sonic. When we got in the van to leave the next morning there was pink goo all over the dash, down the side of the door, and ON THE FRONT WINDSHIELD !!! When I pointed it out to Rachel she gave me the usual "who are you and what are those words coming out of that hole in your face" look. "Oh my bad .... Jessica dropped her shake last night and she told me that she would clean it up". She is going to think "my bad" when she gets her first car and her daddy and I drive it down to Sonic for the biggest strawberry shakes on the planet ! I sure hope that we don't drop them all over the car .... oops ! My bad !

So when our kids grow up, we are going to visit them and bring along the evil elves so that they too can experience the joys of:

- somebody running up and down the stairs and screaming like they are on fire at 6 o'clock in the morning .... followed by slamming every door in the house at least twelve times

- using all of the spoons to get rock hard ice cream out so that they bend into lovely origami shapes

- trash thrown in the general direction of the trash can but NEVER actually making it in the can

- using every single cup in the cabinet each and every time you get a drink

- soaking the hand towel so that it is dripping in the floor when somebody wants to dry their hands

- opening bags of chips, boxes of crackers, boxes of cereal, jars of pickles, etc., etc. and leaving them just sitting on the cabinet.

Oh yeah ... me and the elves are going to have some fun !!!

Seeing How I Used to Be

Tonight I have to spend time with a member of my husband's family that is on meds similar to the ones that made me crazy. It is tough for me to be around people who are on meds like that, especially when they act the way that I used to act (and she does). Being around them brings back horrible memories of the way I treated people and the stupid things that I used to say or do. I am trying to be calm about it, but am really dreading it. I am trying to talk myself into seeing it as research for my second book. Maybe I will just sit and babble incoherent things with her and that will make me feel better.

We Love it When They Tell on Themselves

The younger four childrens walked down to the park last night ... we had to force three of them to go actually. If we had told them "no ... you absolutely cannot go to the park" then they would have whined and begged to go, but because we wanted to spend some time alone they decided that they really didn't want to go. Well too bad you are going anyway ... and you are going to run and jump and laugh and play and you will have fun whether you like it or not ... DAMMIT !

After being at the park for about an hour, it started to cloud up and storms were looming. Bryce called the house to tell us that they were walking home, only he couldn't find Riley and wanted to know if he had already come back to the house. He had not. We went straight into panic parent mode. Derek got in the van and drove down to the park. I didn't really have a fear that somebody had grabbed him. I had more of a fear that he was off with his buddies doing something stupid. This is the same kid who broke into the abandoned hotel during his lunch break just for the shits and giggles of it.

Derek found him at one of his friend's houses that lives right across the street from the park. Riley swore that Bryce knew that he was over there. Bryce swore that he did not ... and logic tells me that if he had known where his brother was then he wouldn't have called the house to ask if he was there ... um ... duh ! So I proceeded to yell and scream at Riley about trust, and responsibility, and dope smoking (oh yes ... I was on a tangent). Riley proceeded to loudly declare "I go over there every time that we go to the park" to which I replied "well then you are a dumb ass for telling on yourself". Yes - I called my fourteen year old son a dumb ass .... why? .... because he was being a DUMB ASS !!! Not only was he not where he was supposed to be (which is a big thing with us), but he proceeded to tell us that he was not where he was supposed to be EVERY time that he went to the park ! DUMB ASS !

Like the time that Bryce snuck away from the house and broke his arm while skateboarding at the park .... he lied about where he was and Rachel lied for him to help cover it up. Until I got a call from the principal at school telling me that the rumor going around school was that Bryce had broken his arm at the park, so I asked Rachel "do your know where your brother was when he broke his arm?" to which she replied "I didn't even know that he was at the skatepark." Derek and I busted out laughing. "I didn't even mention the skatepark". I just love it when they tell on themselves.

We Are All Hypocrital Crackheads

After watching coverage this weekend of the BP oil spill and the outrage over it, I began to wonder if maybe we aren't all just a little bit responsible ourselves. Isn't the demand for oil what drove those execs to demand that drilling continue even under dangerous conditions? If we didn't demand so much of it, would the conditions have been safer?

It's as if we are all addicted to crack and must have our daily fix, but when the crack house that we normally buy our stash from suddenly explodes and spreads chemicals into the air we are angry. We e-mail politicians. We march with signs outside headquarters. We hold town hall meetings. Then we turn right back around and search out a new crack house. We are the very example of hypocrites. Damn you oil companies and your unsafe practices ... oh wait ... let's drive the car 1,000 miles for vacation this summer. We are addicted to oil ... plain and simple and until we stop that addiction then the crack houses (oil companies) are going to keep supplying our stash to us at all costs.

Do we have the right to be angry or should maybe some of that anger be directed at ourselves? For the past few weeks, I have been trying my hardest to stay home on the weekends. I drive to work every day, but maybe the not driving on the weekends will help cure my own addiction to oil in some small way. It's a baby step .... but if we all did it could it make a huge difference?

Confessions of a Grilling Virgin

Derek and I had been planning on cooking out Ranch Burgers pretty much all week, but with his dad being in the hospital our cook-out plans kept getting pushed back. The meat was slowly browning in the refrigerator and I didn't want to let $16 of hamburger go to waste so I decided that me and the kids could figure this out (with a phone-a-friend option). I mixed the ranch salad dressing mix, meat, and cheese together (Derek normally adds bacon bits too, but I forgot). I made little patties for the first time ever and proceeded to try to figure out how to turn the damn grill on. I confess that I have never mowed a lawn, vacuumed a room, or grilled anything, but I a woman "hear me roar" so by gosh I was going to figure this out. I turned the tank on ... heard the little clicks ... turned the main dial on .... stuck the lit Aim N Flame down in the grill .... NOTHING .... turned the main off and back on ... stuck the lit Aim N Flame back down in the grill ... NOTHING ... turned the tank back off ... turned it back on ... stuck the lit Aim N Flame back down in the grill ... NOTHING. Proceeded to call Derek, who by this time was driving his dad home from the hospital. HE LAUGHED AT ME !!! Sure I wanted him to come show me how to light the damn thing, but he didn't have to get such perverse enjoyment out of the fact that I couldn't figure it out. What an ass !!! An ass that can light the grill on the first try.

Riley pretty much took over the grilling after we finally got it lit and flaming. He loved it, so who was I to step in and take away his enjoyment. I just walked outside every few minutes to make sure that he hadn't burned his eyebrows off. "Hey mom ... check this out ... if you squish the burgers and let the grease run down into the fire then the flames can almost reach my face."

"STEP AWAY FROM THE GRILL" ... wait rethink that .... if I don't let him grill then I have to do it myself. "JUST TRY NOT TO SINGE OFF ANYTHING IMPORTANT" Sometimes you just have to let them make their own mistakes.

Collecting Stones

An amazing story about how passion, love, and patience can turn the most simple of things (a stone) into something beautiful.


http://www.theparistraveler.com/2008/07/ferdinand-cheval-and-his-palais-ideal/


(thanks for the link Amity)