Daimean - General complaint meant to make you feel bad for him.
Isaiah - "I feel bad for poor momma, cause she has to raise us kids. Mom, did you want to have kids?"
Me - "yes, I did."
Isaiah - "well not me!"
Daimean - "why?"
Isaiah - "because I don't want to fork over my money to ungrateful kids."
Daimean - "you're saying you're ungrateful?"
Isaiah - "no, not me. I'm grateful for everything."
Daimean - "really? Cause last week you said you hate your life, remember?"
Isaiah - "oh. Yea. Sorry about that. I was going through a rough time."
Daimean - "rough time!? You're 8....."
Monday, October 22, 2012
Friday, October 12, 2012
Inappropriate Children's Songs
"I don't know how to love him, what to do, how to move him..... And I've had so many men before, in very many ways, he's just one more."
Questionable choice for 7th grade chorus, ya think?
Back in the olden days (1991) no one questioned the junior high kids singing this song. Our school was a small, poor school. We had no music program until 1991, until then, I believed that playing the piano was a necessary skill for teachers. When music came to our school, we all excitedly signed up for every program that was offered. Not only did we sing - proudly! - from Jesus Christ Superstar, but we discussed the meaning of this deep lyric by Bel Biv DeVoe:
Never trust a big but and a smile.
That's all you really need to take away from this post today. Never trust a big butt and a smile, indeed.
Questionable choice for 7th grade chorus, ya think?
Back in the olden days (1991) no one questioned the junior high kids singing this song. Our school was a small, poor school. We had no music program until 1991, until then, I believed that playing the piano was a necessary skill for teachers. When music came to our school, we all excitedly signed up for every program that was offered. Not only did we sing - proudly! - from Jesus Christ Superstar, but we discussed the meaning of this deep lyric by Bel Biv DeVoe:
Never trust a big but and a smile.
That's all you really need to take away from this post today. Never trust a big butt and a smile, indeed.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
The Case of the Missing Eyebrow
Before I share this little gem, I’d just like to plainly state that
next to my own children, those of my family and friends are the most charming
and adorable children in the world. Just like Lake Wobegon. There’s nothing I
wouldn’t do for these above average children.
So when I received a text late last night from one of my dearest
friends, telling me that her eleven year old son shaved off half of his
eyebrows, of course I offered to help. Which is why my bewildered husband found
me in the kitchen this morning, drawing eyebrows on an embarrassed young man.
Ok, not “drawing” per se, as that makes it sound like I was making him into one
of those women who look like they have commas stenciled on their foreheads. No,
I was using my favorite Maybelline brow powder to make it look like he still
had eyebrows. When I asked him what on earth possessed him to do that, he said,
“I don’t know, I thought they were too long.”
I can’t fault the kid. I remember being about his
age when I decided I didn’t like the hair on my upper lip. Now, my mother
wouldn’t allow me to shave my legs, so there’s no way she was going to take me
for a waxing. Before you ask, yes, it was really necessary, as my ethnic
heritage includes both Puerto Rican and Italian, and they’re not known for
their fair, delicate women. Oh no, they’re a hairy bunch. So, adolescent me
looked in the mirror and thought, “I’ll just shave that right off.” Managed to
cut myself right at the top of my lip, and it bled like hell. I was running
around like a chicken with no head (and seemingly bleeding as much as one) and
trying to figure out what to do. Eventually I called my mother at work, and
gave some half assed excuse for how it happened, and told her it wouldn’t stop
bleeding.
Later in life, I made friends with the nice lady at the salon who
handles the waxing.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Updates from the Trenches
Hello? Is this thing on?
*crickets*
Serves me right, I suppose, for ignoring this blog for so long. But I'm doing really important stuff, I swear! Stuff like
1. Planning a birthday party for small child
2. Meeting with teachers because big child still won't do his school work
3. Preparing for an out of town wedding in which I'm standing up
4. Finishing my history degree
5. Showing up at the office every day (actual contributions may vary)
6. Walking my mother through her first home purchase
7. Laundry for 2 children, including school uniforms and spirit week get ups
8. The dog's colitis is acting up again, my life is full of poop and puke and I don't even have babies
9. NOT having a nervous breakdown
(I really screwed those numbers up, but my persistent OCD made me go back and fix them)
I mean, really, when you look at it in nice list form, it's almost amazing that I still walk and talk with some level of normalcy. Add to that some extra strength family stress and you've got a recipe for momma disaster. For the second time in my life, I've considered seeking counseling. But then I ask myself what the heck a counselor can tell me that I haven't already told me, and it kind of seems like a waste of time. I much prefer walking around in a funk and repeating, with the zeal of a convert, "Everything is fine, nothing but good times ahead."
What is it about weddings that brings out the worst in people? A series of unfortunate events led to a break between myself and one of my oldest friends during my wedding planning. It was over FIVE YEARS before we spoke again. We missed out on five years of companionship and kids and crazy because of what? We got mad and stopped talking and just didn't start again. I'm so sad that we lost that time, and so thankful that she stepped up and said THIS IS STUPID let's be friends again. Because really, I missed her and her kids. (I really do love all of my friend's kids)
Now one of my dearest friends is facing something like that, a little thing that turned into a big thing which all revolves around her wedding. It hurts me to see what's happening, and know just what's at stake, and not be able to help stop someone else from losing their friend.
*crickets*
Serves me right, I suppose, for ignoring this blog for so long. But I'm doing really important stuff, I swear! Stuff like
1. Planning a birthday party for small child
2. Meeting with teachers because big child still won't do his school work
3. Preparing for an out of town wedding in which I'm standing up
4. Finishing my history degree
5. Showing up at the office every day (actual contributions may vary)
6. Walking my mother through her first home purchase
7. Laundry for 2 children, including school uniforms and spirit week get ups
8. The dog's colitis is acting up again, my life is full of poop and puke and I don't even have babies
9. NOT having a nervous breakdown
(I really screwed those numbers up, but my persistent OCD made me go back and fix them)
I mean, really, when you look at it in nice list form, it's almost amazing that I still walk and talk with some level of normalcy. Add to that some extra strength family stress and you've got a recipe for momma disaster. For the second time in my life, I've considered seeking counseling. But then I ask myself what the heck a counselor can tell me that I haven't already told me, and it kind of seems like a waste of time. I much prefer walking around in a funk and repeating, with the zeal of a convert, "Everything is fine, nothing but good times ahead."
What is it about weddings that brings out the worst in people? A series of unfortunate events led to a break between myself and one of my oldest friends during my wedding planning. It was over FIVE YEARS before we spoke again. We missed out on five years of companionship and kids and crazy because of what? We got mad and stopped talking and just didn't start again. I'm so sad that we lost that time, and so thankful that she stepped up and said THIS IS STUPID let's be friends again. Because really, I missed her and her kids. (I really do love all of my friend's kids)
Now one of my dearest friends is facing something like that, a little thing that turned into a big thing which all revolves around her wedding. It hurts me to see what's happening, and know just what's at stake, and not be able to help stop someone else from losing their friend.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Cats and iPhones, A Short Play
The setting: 4am, my bedroom
Cast of characters: Ozzie, my iPhone, Cordless House Phone (CHP), CHP's base
Ozzie enters room, glances to the left. He sees some phones that urgently need his attention.
Cordless Home Phone: Clunk
Me: Whaa? Ozzie, go away.
CHP's base: Thunk
Me: Ozzie go! (as Ozzie is repeatedly pushed off of side table where phone once resided)
iPhone: *ding ding* (as Ozzie stands on it and activates the voice control)
Me: Dammit Ozzie!
iPhone: Playing Stone Temple Pilots
Which leads to me wrestling the phone away from Ozzie as Scott Weiland sings Lounge Fly at 4am.
Ozzie triumphantly walks away, into the night.
*end scene*
Cast of characters: Ozzie, my iPhone, Cordless House Phone (CHP), CHP's base
Ozzie enters room, glances to the left. He sees some phones that urgently need his attention.
Cordless Home Phone: Clunk
Me: Whaa? Ozzie, go away.
CHP's base: Thunk
Me: Ozzie go! (as Ozzie is repeatedly pushed off of side table where phone once resided)
iPhone: *ding ding* (as Ozzie stands on it and activates the voice control)
Me: Dammit Ozzie!
iPhone: Playing Stone Temple Pilots
Which leads to me wrestling the phone away from Ozzie as Scott Weiland sings Lounge Fly at 4am.
Ozzie triumphantly walks away, into the night.
*end scene*
Friday, August 10, 2012
Awful News Story of the Day
Man calls police, hysterical because he'd beaten his dog to death.
Do I really need to say that people who hurt animals are soceital scum and just one short step away from hurting humans?
Today's blog is dedicated to my two dogs. Eva came to live with us in early 2006, when she was just 3 months old. She's barky, she pees on the floor, she chews things, and she's deathly afraid of storms and fireworks. Also, I love her. She likes to prance, yes PRANCE, around when she has a rawhide treat, as if she wants to show off to everyone else in the house. It's adorable. She's pretty small, 28lbs at last check, and if you sit on the floor she'll curl up in your lap because she loves to nuzzle and cuddle. She doesn't have a problem with the cats or the bird. She started out a little food aggressive, but for the most part she's been over that for years.
Ilio came to us as a foster dog in the summer of 2008, I think. Could have even been 2007, I just don't remember. He's built like a horse with a big head made of rock. He had scars on his muzzle when he came to us, and I promised him I'd never let anyone else hurt him. He's great with kids, but wary of males that don't live with him. He's sweet and funny, and he chases laser dots just like a cat. I love that dog. He sleeps at the corner of my bed, and is the first being to greet me every day, and the last one I see every night. This cannot be overstated - I love that dog. He chases the cats and is fascinated with the bird. He's a happy guy, that Ilio.
And so there it is, I will hug my dogs a little tighter today and hope that maybe some day people will stop abusing their animals and pick on someone their own size.
Do I really need to say that people who hurt animals are soceital scum and just one short step away from hurting humans?
Today's blog is dedicated to my two dogs. Eva came to live with us in early 2006, when she was just 3 months old. She's barky, she pees on the floor, she chews things, and she's deathly afraid of storms and fireworks. Also, I love her. She likes to prance, yes PRANCE, around when she has a rawhide treat, as if she wants to show off to everyone else in the house. It's adorable. She's pretty small, 28lbs at last check, and if you sit on the floor she'll curl up in your lap because she loves to nuzzle and cuddle. She doesn't have a problem with the cats or the bird. She started out a little food aggressive, but for the most part she's been over that for years.
Ilio came to us as a foster dog in the summer of 2008, I think. Could have even been 2007, I just don't remember. He's built like a horse with a big head made of rock. He had scars on his muzzle when he came to us, and I promised him I'd never let anyone else hurt him. He's great with kids, but wary of males that don't live with him. He's sweet and funny, and he chases laser dots just like a cat. I love that dog. He sleeps at the corner of my bed, and is the first being to greet me every day, and the last one I see every night. This cannot be overstated - I love that dog. He chases the cats and is fascinated with the bird. He's a happy guy, that Ilio.
And so there it is, I will hug my dogs a little tighter today and hope that maybe some day people will stop abusing their animals and pick on someone their own size.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Need a Bigger Wine Glass
And for the record, I already use pretty big wine glasses.
Last night, I peek out the window to be a nosy neighbor and investigate some suspicious sounds (um, everyone does that, right?) when I see that our front gate is open. After alerting Hubs, he goes out through the back, and informs me that the side gate is also open, leading us to believe that someone has walked through our yard.
With the back gate being locked, said person would have to either jump a fence or go back out through the front. At this point, we're debating buying a gun, cause really.... when he looks out the window and says, "Mystery solved." Yes, just like we were in a Scooby Doo episode.
I jump up to see my 14 year old child SNEAKING in the front gate. Literally sneaking, doing an exaggerated Pink Panther-esque tip toe. At least he was, until I stuck my head out and let loose with a volley of expletives regarding his ass and where it was SUPPOSED to be at 10:45pm.
It took some major restraint on my part to not break my previous vow to not use corporal punishment on my children. But it leaves me option-less for the moment, because I really don't know where to go from here.
Today I'm toying with the idea of pushing legislation to expand the Safe Haven law, by oh, say, 14 years or so. Is it too late to retroactively change my mind and decide I don't want children? We could be one of those trendy Double-Income-No-Kids couples who travels and buys expensive toys for our dogs.
As a kid, I never understood kids who would run away from home. I mean, you're a kid for shit's sake, you don't have any income and when you get caught - and you will - you're just going to be in trouble. BUT as an adult, I can totally see the appeal. I'm college educated and have marketable skills! So if you see my husband and I in some exotic locale, wearing dark shades and referring to one another as "Boris" and "Natasha", it's because I've decided to run away. The kids can keep the house, the dogs and the last box of Cheerios. I'm moving to a coconut hut where it never snows, and will no longer answer to "Mom"
Last night, I peek out the window to be a nosy neighbor and investigate some suspicious sounds (um, everyone does that, right?) when I see that our front gate is open. After alerting Hubs, he goes out through the back, and informs me that the side gate is also open, leading us to believe that someone has walked through our yard.
With the back gate being locked, said person would have to either jump a fence or go back out through the front. At this point, we're debating buying a gun, cause really.... when he looks out the window and says, "Mystery solved." Yes, just like we were in a Scooby Doo episode.
I jump up to see my 14 year old child SNEAKING in the front gate. Literally sneaking, doing an exaggerated Pink Panther-esque tip toe. At least he was, until I stuck my head out and let loose with a volley of expletives regarding his ass and where it was SUPPOSED to be at 10:45pm.
It took some major restraint on my part to not break my previous vow to not use corporal punishment on my children. But it leaves me option-less for the moment, because I really don't know where to go from here.
Today I'm toying with the idea of pushing legislation to expand the Safe Haven law, by oh, say, 14 years or so. Is it too late to retroactively change my mind and decide I don't want children? We could be one of those trendy Double-Income-No-Kids couples who travels and buys expensive toys for our dogs.
As a kid, I never understood kids who would run away from home. I mean, you're a kid for shit's sake, you don't have any income and when you get caught - and you will - you're just going to be in trouble. BUT as an adult, I can totally see the appeal. I'm college educated and have marketable skills! So if you see my husband and I in some exotic locale, wearing dark shades and referring to one another as "Boris" and "Natasha", it's because I've decided to run away. The kids can keep the house, the dogs and the last box of Cheerios. I'm moving to a coconut hut where it never snows, and will no longer answer to "Mom"
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