A Day in History

A day in my history

Our move to Milwaukee from San Diego 8 years ago this August.



Richard couldn't fly out with us, so I had to take the kids by myself. He came out 2 weeks later to help us buy a car, then again for the girls birthdays, and then for Thanksgiving. It wasn't until almost Christmas that he finally was able to move home with us.



What else do you eat for dinner after you move? Especially when you don't have any kitchen supplies or appliances. Our movers were a week late. So even though our rental was nice enough to leave a pasta gift basket, I couldn't even prepare it! We had pizza the first two days, I walked across the street to McDonalds the next, and finally I walked the kids across very busy streets to get easy to eat foods from a grocery store. I called a cab to take us home, only it never came. A very nice lady offered to bring us home since she noticed we were still outside waiting when she was done with her shopping.



The view from our DR Patio. Quite an improvement since before we were in a 2nd floor apartment facing another 2nd floor apartment



This hill was on the side of townhouse. We were an end unit. You would have thought we moved the kids to the country with as happy as they were. In reality, we were in N.W Milwaukee. I will say though, in San Diego we never had deer, rabbits, geese, squirrels, or chipmunks come through our yard before.



How come they never play this nice anymore? I had nightmares about that lake for a long time. It was very close to our Dr and Lr patios. Unlikes most of the units, we didn't have to pay extra for the view though.



Perfect picture for our 'we have moved' letter. Too bad I didn't get this roll developed until last year! Yep, that is right. Can you say procrastination or what?



These big city kids found a little bit of country in Milwaukee. Susie called it 'Mil-you-ack-ee' We moved just when the butterflies were coming in and this little patch here was full of them. Here you can see they are making wishes. 'Come home soon daddy'

Welcome to the World

My friend, Kristen, finally had her baby boy, Brett, this Sunday. I don't know much, just that he's 8lbs 10oz. I had a baby girl that exact weight.

Welcome to this world, little guy. Congrats Kristen, Tom, Abby (4.5) & Lilah (18m).

Psa 127:3 Behold, children are a gift of the LORD, The fruit of the womb is a reward.

The Killers; It's no big thang

No, I'm not gonna rant about evil-doers. There's enough posts about them today out in blogsphere I am sure. Is blogsphere even a word? I don't care if it don't make sense. Frankly, I don't care if that last sentence was bad grammar either. I'm not blogging to improve my grammar skills or impress my prior english teachers, as you can tell.

I'm talking about The Killers. Yes, I'll admit to it. I like them. Guess what, I like some of the bands music and I'm still a born again Christian. Actually, I have tons of Christian and non Christian music in my itunes and CD cabinet. No, this doesn't make me 'of the world' and I'm not backsliding. I'm just a girl that loves music, art, history, movies, and people. I know when something is over the line for me. (Philippians 4:8)

Besides, I never said I meditate to the CD. Can't we see the difference between being human, enjoying human experiences, and meditating on them all day? I don't worship them, I don't worship or idolize any celebrity. I do realize though that some people can go overboard with the, Oh-my- gosh-I-love-you-so-much-you're-everything-to-me-you're-my-idol kind of craziness. Hey, that is not me though. I have that void filled inside my soul. For me, the void was filled in Jesus Christ. If I read a book that is not about God, it doesn't mean anything is wrong. Unless, it was How to Murder Your Ex Wife and Avoid Jail by OJ Simpson or Porn. If I listen to a CD that is not old time hymns, it doesn't mean something is wrong with my spiritual walk. After a period of almost agnosticism, doubt, and study of worldwide religions, I finally surrendered to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in my life. I went through a period of total isolation from anything non Christian related. It was then I realize what it was like to be in an extreme.

Extremes of any kind are usually not good. People can start getting the holier then thou attitudes. I am who I am. I love music, to dream, to dance, to be sensual, to question things around me, analyze, to push the envelope just a little bit more.

These things in and of themselves are not bad. All things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any. 1 Corinthians 6:12

If I am indwelled with the Lord Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, then don't you think I can tell the difference? I am not brought under the power of any.

I can still share in the experiences, artistry, and musical poetry of my fellow human beings. I have to say, that I've gotten a bit fed up with attitudes that in order to be a good Christian, you'll only want to listen to hymns or Christian music. There's even a lot of buzz about how Christians view Christian rock. There's even the consensus that Christian contemporary is wrong. You have to make up your own mind on the issues though.

On certain points I agree with some of my brothers and sisters, but as a whole, with just a tap glance at the subject, I don't share this opinion. (Ok, I realize that some of my money might be going to an unsaved musician that likely has premarital sex or uses drugs. I buy food from the store, that may or may not be grown by an unsaved farmer who might be having an affair.)

So if you want to judge me merely on my musical choices, you can bite me. I say that in sisterly love, of course. ;o)

With a shimmey and a shake.....

Dinner At My House

***Disclaimer*** ~I have nothing against mullets. Please don't hold anything against me or my family. Thank you.


It's impossible. It's not that you have to keep telling the kids to eat. It's because we are always laughing so dang hard food is flying. I don't know what it is, maybe its because it's a long day or a long week. Maybe its because all of our kids are comedians and see humor in everything. Maybe its because it's pretty dern funny that a girl with a mullet has a crush on our 14 y/o and S has two boys named Pharoah and Asia in her class. Don't get us started on the Valentimes Day hoopla. No, that is not a typo. I have decided to start video blogging. No one believes me when I say this family is nutso. That if there was a camera in my diningroom we could contend with America's Funniest Families.

Somtimes, it's rather sick. Like the time my husband asked if I had cheese on my taco. *snicker* Yes, I know. He maintains he meant nothing by it.

"Ewwww, dad you are gross!"

Each kid had their say, hysterics went on for minutes as I just sat and embarrassingly looked at the table.

I scolded the kids, "stop laughing, you're going to choke..when I was 11 I was laughing at dinner one night til I started choking on a hard shell. It's all fun and games til someone is choking....."

Then I have flashbacks. There were three adults in the room. My mom, my aunt C, and my aunt M.

My aunt C, "Omg, Omg, she's choking, " as she shoves mountain dew into my mouth, it pours down my shirt.

My mom, "stop it, get out of the way!!" Bang, bang, bang, she beats me on the back. I'm literally thinking, "I'm going to be beaten to death before I choke to death."

"Move it, stop D, you're hurting her. I know what to do!!" (she was a preschool teacher) She gives me some sort of epeleptic-in-a-seizure kind of Heimlich Maneuver.

After I got my stomach to go right side out again, enough to where I could breathe, I sigh in relief. Phew, I'm alive.

So I'm staring off into my own world, I guess the memory was so comical to me, now at least, that Richard says, "what, I didn't mean anything by...."


Another example, our oldest says, "look my sweater is dancing." (as he manipulates a one liter bottle in his lap) Both my husband and my oldest daughter go into hysterics as my son yells, "what?" Looking at me he says, "they are perverts."

Then, I can't help but notice that my veggies from Applebees smell like toilet water. I kid you not! And if there is anything this SAHM knows, sadly, it's the smell of toilet water. So, picture me shoving a piece of brocolli in front of J's face.

"Tell me, does this smell like toilet water!!?"

"Eww, sick mom, no but it smells gross."

I'm on to my husband, who incidentally hates it when I say "This doesn't taste right, it's nasty, take a sip and tell me if it's just me." Yes, I do that all the time.

So I know Richard isn't gonna sniff for me. I fling at carrot at J this time.

"Come on, you're telling me that doesn't smell like toilet water?"

"Agh, stop mom." He flings it towards Richard.

Richard promptly flings it at Mooch who then flings it at S who says, "give it to me! I'll eat it!" Chomp.

"Ew, it doesn't takes like a toilet but I think it's like two days old." I'm rolling my eyes.

By this time, everyone is laughing their a**es off. Not only am I complaining my veggies smell like toilet water, but the carrot has been passed around into everyone's hand, thrown around on the table, and then she still eats it! As everyone is laughing, lil' J (4) is leaning over his chair making puking sounds.

"That's it! You gross, talk to the hand".

Oh, and I never drink anymore during dinner because someone is liable to say just the right thing, at just at the right moment, resulting in my beverage spraying out of my mouth. It's not intentional of course, and most likely this just brings on more hysterics from my crazy dinner partners. Literally last time, it went up my nose, and I had bad memories of being dunked in a pool, to where the water is forced up your nose and burns. Yeah, you remember it.

J goes on to tell us that at lunch he looks back to see who was in line behind him and it's the girl with the mullet. (Richard bursts into laughter again, we know all about the mullet girl) J still can never say it without a look of confusion and pain brought on by suppressed laughter. She and another girl are whispering about him.

His friend R says, "hey dude, mullet girl has a thing for you."

"Nooooooooooo, she likes YOU!!"

I then can't help but saying to Richard that we should get a mullet wig for J to wear to school. Then he can ask her to the "Valentimes Dance." ;o)~

Then there are conversations about the boy at school that has boobs, and how J accidentally bumped into him in the hall. He tried so hard to be nice and say nothing without laughing. We have taught him to be nice and considerate of others.

He succeeds only to hear another guy say, "Sorry we hit your boobs, dude. Wait, you have boobs!??" Poor kid.

Richard can't stop laughing when S (12) tries to tell us about the Valentimes dance at school. J cuts in to tell Richard that S was talking about her faverit ordamit the other day.

J's friend JP kept asking, "What are you talking about? It's Favorite. Say it with us, F-A-V-O-R-I-T-E."

I tell them all to stop laughing and let her finish her story.

"Go on S, tell us about the Valentimes thing at school."

(Insert hysterical laughter again) What? I couldn't help it.

Richard by this time has veins popping out where they shouldn't be, he's actually getting a headache, I can't even remember all of what we laughed about. It's all so dumb. Apparently at dinner time, we act like dumba**es.

Lil J looks over and laughs at his Dad, points, and says, "you laugh like a girl."

(Insert more hysterical laughter here) Dad's been dissed by a 4 y/o. As we try to compose ourselves, someone else giggles and starts up with a story from school. Ok, so S tries to finish her story about how she's running away from Pharoah on the playground.

Richard interrupts, "what!? Pharoah?"

He's got a puzzled look of confusion on his face, like is this another blooper of hers.

I reply, (sigh, can't this poor girl say anything at dinner) "yes, you heard right, Pharoah, she has a Pharoah in her class."

Insert beyond hysterical, again. "PHAROAH!!!?"

Keep in mind there are very small periods of silent chewing before someone bursts out again about something they can't stop thinking about. Like the fact that S is eating her "Violet Fish". Yes, as you can tell S well known for oral 'typos', and flips of the tongue.

"You mean fish FILET!?" Rolling eyes, insert more laughter.

It's quiet. Not for long though. "Who would name their kid Pharoah anyways. Why would you do that?"

Insert crazy laughter. (By this time, I'm thinking, did McDonalds slip some sort of silly gas into the fries? Hmm, so that is how they keep people coming back).

"I don't know, who would let their daughter go to school with a mullet!!?" (hysterics)

It's quiet for a second. Richard's trying to eat, I recognize that look of thinking on his face.

Then with a huge smirk on his face, "C has a mullet." (laughter) C is a neighbor boy of about 9 yrs old.

Mooch says, "Oh my gosh, that's right, and his real dad has one too". (Hysterics)

Then Josh goes on a rant about the underground mullet society on the internet.

S tries to continue on with her Valentines story, but the poor girl keeps saying "Valentimes". She just can't say it right. She's got to wait though because for some reason we are all cracking up again, it just comes out so dern funny. J throws a french fry at her.

S says, "oh a fry, thank you." *chomp*

So then she tells us how Pharoah is chasing her and she's running away, she turns (she motions right) to look for him , and when she faces foward there he is, on the left, running right next to her.

"How embarassing, I think I'm leaving him in the dust." Yes, insert laughter again. I guess the image of her running along looking to the right, only to find he's running right along side her is hysterical. Then she starts talking about the boy in class named, Asia. Insert more laughter.

"Asia??!! What are with these names.."

Then there's mud. J was in class with a boy that was always in trouble so the teacher, ever so originally, said, "your name name is mud." Comes the day they are fed up with, JD, as we'll call him, "go write your name on the board!"

So he walks up and writes, Mud. *snicker* You gotta love middle school boys. Uhm, or not. So then when the teacher leaves class to go fill out a slip about what a smart alec he is, all the kids take turns putting checks next to naughty boy, Mud.

S goes on about the gross things boys say or do. So its gets around to asking me, "remember, mom, what you were talking about that one time. About how you, Mooch, and other women have texture, and it's a good thing?"

I'm confused, "say,what?? Texture?"

Richard's face is red, he's chewing, squinting at her. J is sitting there with his mouth hanging open, with a what the... kind of look.

"Yeah, you know, (she motions circles with her hands over her body) like your hips, butt, elbows... 'ELBOWS!!???' " Insert Roarting hysterics.

Richard can't stop laughing again, his head is on the table.

"You mean CURVES!?" It's mayhem at the table by now.

I say to Richard, "honey, do you like my nice shapely texture?"

J is cracking up with the girly voice he has as it's changing and I ask him, "are you distracted by the seductive texture of the girl's elbows in glass?" Insert stadium sized laughter.

Oh my goodnits, it doesn't stop there, for an hour it goes on. My side hurts. It's one thing after another, until someone is falling off their chair, (mooch) choking on their drink, (me) or suffering from a laughter induced headache. (Richard) You get the picture.

I leave the table, I can't take it anymore. I can't eat, because I'll end up choking to death. J is not trying to be funny, they all just talk about their daily life at school, and I guess you have to be here, because it just comes out so freakin funny some nights. J goes on to talk about the relentless wedgies the junior high boys get and give. J has made it his mission, (he's at a new school since November) to 'bring wedgies back'. So, some of these poor boys are getting their boxers torn. According to some boys, that's not enough, so they are sticking plastic soda bottles between their cheeks. Ewwww. Lil J once again leans over his chair making puking sounds. I guess Richard is remembering his own school days, as he's literally on the floor now, purple faced. Apparently that is normal behavior for 14 y.o boys. After J is done demonstrating he drops the plastic bottle.

He picks it up, "Eww, sick! Why is it wet!? And it has HAIRS on it, gross!"

Richard just totally loses it, "M, it's wet and it has a hair." More laughter. Apparently I looked at him in such a way, that is even more funny, because all of them are now cracking up. I imagine, my thoughts of, this family is totally insane, show on my face. Oh well, sanity is over rated anyways. Right?

Oh, and this is true. that as I right this, the girls are playing Kelly Clarkson's, A Moment Like This. I hear singin, "so tell me, you don't think my hair is crazy......a mullet like this.....some people wait a lifetime, for a mullet like this."

"Something so tender, I can't explain." (S motions cutting a nice steak)

Yes, that is my family. I still love them though.

Last Nights Dream

Last night I dreamt I was in my grandma Bonnie's house. My mom was there too and we had a nice visit. We were laughing and smiling. I was much more comfortable around her then I ever was before when she was alive. Then we realized she was sick and there was tears, lots of tears. There was more, but I can't remember it all.

So then she dies, and I go with my mom to meet my grandpa, and a few of my aunts at a resturant. There is bread on the table, and some sort of tomato dip. I can't eat. I can't drink. They are all talking and I am paralyzed. I can't stop crying from the very depths of my soul, but nobody notices. My aunt C comes by to the resturant, she comes up and hugs me and hands me two things. I can't make them out at first, it looks like one is an embroidered bag.

Just a note*** C was always my favorite aunt, and I was very close to her growing up. When she moved to MN she lived with my grandparents for awhile. She went to church with them, she was always doing things with grandma. Well, since she announced last year when grandma first became sick that she was a lesbian, and living with a partner, everyone was naturally shocked. She has never ever shown any such signs but she got tired of being lonely she says. She hasn't called me in years, and when I saw her two Novemembers ago, she hugged me, but didn't really talk to me or give me her number. Before grandma died, she was looking at some pictures. This was around when she was starting to have moments of confusion. She mistakenly thought a picture of my grandpa, my uncle M & my aunt C were *after* her telling them about this. She read his expression and it pained her. She thought he looked disgusted or indifferent. Grandpa was just squinting & not smiling in reality though. She cried out that grandpa had to forgive love her unconditionally, and pray for her. That God will handle the rest. It pained her that C should feel any rejection from her dad.***

While sitting there, I am noticing that everyone is doing pretty well, and so I can't realize why I am wanting to fall apart. I am looking at the bag & realizing it's not a bag but a pillow case of some kind. It's a type of blue & white gingham, with butterlies, bees, flowers and other things sewed on, like 3D, so they are more then just a picture, they can be touched. There is something stitched very tiny on it (my grandma was a master at cross stitching), but I can't make out what it says. I flip it over and see it has huge letters with some sort of message, now I can't remember what it said. I realize I am thirsty and everyone else has something to drink but me. Finally, as I am getting up, I look down and realize the other thing C must have given me, turned into a fizzy juice drink in a clear plastic bottle. It doesn't have a lid on it. It's an orange color but not orange flavored. More happens but I can't remember.

I go home, my house is different. I am really crying now, and I realize a friend is having a baby shower that day. I call some info line about it, and it's not until 7p that night. There's a soothing radio voice giving me detailed instructions about what to expect from the shower, where it's at, what prices the gifts are, where they be bought, and I'm picturing in my head all the women, happy & joyful, and wondering if I should go. Again, there's more but I can't remember just now.

Nothing interesting, just my subconscious mind. I so wish I had chai right now, I'm all out. *sigh*

School Field Trip

Mood: Hopeful
Song: Raspberry Beret


Mooch had a field trip today and my wonderful hubby took the day off so I could go with her. Lil J gets off the bus at 11:30a and the field was from 11:30a to 2pm. I have to admit, at first I wasn't entirely thrilled about going. I just wasn't in the mood for leaving my warm house, driving down to the school, riding the school bus with noisy kids, and doing it all in reverse after it was over. But since I love Mooch so much and this is her last year at MFIS, as she graduates the 5th grade this year, I signed up and she was so happy that I got picked since many times another parent gets to go.

I have to say that I am so glad I went! It was wonderfully refreshing. They went to the MSO and we were treated to music as well as some ballet. The dancers did some different numbers according to the composer. One of them was a skat time dance. The girls giggled at the male dancer. Well, you know how that is, tight tights on a guy. He was, um, not poorly porportioned shall I say. Don't go trying to head down with your flirty face on girls, ya know he's gay. ;o) HA! I pretended to not know what was so funny as I was thinking, so that is what glutes should look like. The female dancer, Candance, was lovely. However, I couldn't help but notice that she was absolutely and completely flat chested. Ok, so maybe when you squinted you could manage to see a crease in her dress where she had nipples. I found myself thinking for a moment, why are women trying to be so thin they lose all the features that make a woman's body so beautiful? She needed some curves. I know, I know, she's a ballet dancer. I did say completely flat chested though right? Hmm, maybe she is just from a family of very small chested woman, we can't all be Anna Nicole Smith. Wait, hers are fake. Moving on....

I wish they gave us a booket of all the pieces they performed because I can't remember them. I can say though, it was a collection of 'dance' composers so we heard one from Russia, a Mexican piece, skat, and my favorite Duke Ellington. If Duke wanted to compose a song that inspires dance, you are going to dance! I don't even think my dance wallflower husband could sit motionless.

It was a great time, I just love music. It can make me happy, sad, excited, inspired, enthusiastic, dreamy....... Think about it, music is a part of just about every human gathering. Birthday's, weddings, funerals, graduations, reunions, religious ceremonies, commerations, even war! Maybe it's just the Irish in me though, I don't know how you can come from the land of scholars and music and not have music be a part of your soul.

Today was just what I needed, my not so little girl leaning her head on my shoulder, some great music to stir my soul, my hopes, and my dreams.

I've already forgotten about having to sit by the very stinky 4th grade boy , sharing jokes like "What kind of plant falls?" I dunno, what kind? "A tumbleweed, get it!? Uh ahahah Uh huhahaha"

Yeah I get it, a heh, a heh.

Who Are You?

.......sliding down off my soapbox now.

I was noticing that I am getting quite a few hits to this blog lately. I've gotten some emails from some of you as well. I guess I am wondering, who are you? I suppose in the beginning I think I'm just rambling on to myself but apparently, apart from my friends, there are other people reading too. Let me take this time to say, excuse the clutter, I am in the process of a format change that I envision, I am just waiting for 25 hrs in the day and it will be done. ;o) Oh, and that I am lazy about grammar and punctuation, so please don't hold it against me. Please take the time to answer a few questions for me, if you would be so kind. Hey, girls from BC, you have to as well! I know where your blogs are! I'll stalk you I swear!

Name:
Age: 31
Occupation: SAHM
Location: Southeast Wisconsin
Your Family: My wonderful husband & HS sweetheart of 15 yrs, 14 y/o ds, 12 y/o dd, 11 y/o dd, 4 y/o ds and 3 male cats, Ash, Garfield & Snowball

What are 3 things about you, that people would be surprised to learn?

1. I secretly think about having another baby.
2. I breastfed by second dd for 2 years & my last ds for 3 1/2.
3. I once lived on my MIL's ranch in Snowflake, Arizona with no running water, phone, or electricity. I had my two oldest and was pregnant with my 3rd. I milked a goat every 6am and 6pm for the kids. I even had to heat up water to give them bathes in the tub. I only lasted almost 6 months as I could see the houses weren't going to be built anytime soon.
   
   Do you have any book recommendations for me?
   How did you find this blog?
   Why do you keep reading it?
   How come you never point out my typos for me? Grrrr
   What would you like to see me blog about?
   
   Ok, I'm waiting.....tap, tap, tap..
   

Grandma's With Jesus

On Friday the 21st, she went to meet Jesus at five minutes before 6pm. I think it has sunk in for me. My mom was the first to notice she wasn't breathing. My two aunts and uncle were there. I am sure they are so glad to have been there. They are in the Twin cities area and were getting quite a bit of snow so it was past midnight by the time my aunt Nancy got to go home. My mom asked if Nancy's husband could come get her and take her home earlier, my mom just wasn't able to wait that long and be there when they took grandma away. Since there was more waiting then usual, I think it's best she left earlier.

Thank you so much for all of your cyber hugs, kind words, positive thoughts and prayers. I really appreciate it, I know how hard it can be to find the right words. The memorial service will be either on the 12th or 19th of Feburary at her church which she loved so much. During the Thanksgiving week of 2003 I went out there to visit as my aunts from California were flying out too. It wasn't looking good as far as a surgery to remove the tumor or treatments.

We had a service at her church and I still can see in my mind her standing up with her hands towards heaven, eyes closed, and a look of praise, reverance, joy and peace. That is how I will remember my grandma Bonnie. A woman of faith, with deep love for her God, regardless of the possibility of a near death due to cancer.

In trying to find a poem I remember seeing about what cancer can't do, I found this website instead. It's about Josiah, a little boy struggling with cancer. He is four years old, same as my Lil' J. He loves spiderman, same as my little J. In honor of grandma Bonnie, I will be ordering their bracelets for my whole family to remind us to pray for him, because even though God chose to not heal grandma, we still BELIEVE he can and does heal.

Grandma is Gone

I was listening to my Irish Christmas CD, as I was thinking of her. I was suppose to call my mom today so I did. Grandpa answered and told me she had just died. They are trying to get a hold of the hospital. I just had her in my heart and mind, at the time she left this earth. Strange how these things can work sometimes. Thanks for all your kinds words, prayers, and thoughts over this year. I know I haven't spoken of it much. I can only imagine the joy and peace she has right now, we will be sad, but for a Christian, death is not the end. We await the resurrection.

It's day 3 already

S has been home for 3 days now. Poor girl. We will definately make an appt for that salon next week.

I got two notices from two different schools saying that the immunization records for M & J are needed by, such and such date, or I will be fined $25 per day. Um, hello, M has been there since K4, and I'm not aware of any office fire, so if they don't have this info, it's their fault not mine. She's been up to date for years, including the chicken pox shot. *Sigh* Then J's new school also sent me a curt threatening letter. All that info was given to the main enrollment office, not my problem that they didn't forward it, and the school itself never asked or doubled checked on his first official day. I guess they were too busy tallying up the $170 in fees they wanted from us.

Whatever happened to a letter saying, "oops, we seem to not have their records on file, can you please get it to us asap, thank you," Instead they are getting all ninja on me. So, I get to go copy the info again, stuff it an envelope and pray the kids don't forget to turn it in for weeks like they do with everything else. The office loves me. I'm always calling and bugging them. Especially now that M's school has her passport on file. It wasn't signed yet and I sent it along so they could verify she had it and write the # down. I knew we'd give it to them about a month before the trip. Well they have kept it so I called and told them it's not signed yet, make sure she goes to the office and signs it. They still haven't had her sign it, it's in their school safe. I can just see it not happening and being neglected until mins before it's stamped and there being some issue.

The schwans guy is coming tonight and normally I don't care, but I'm looking foward to my over priced strawberry crunch ice cream bars. Mmm...nothing like ice cream on a cold day. Oh wait, I wonder if it's too late to ask for the berry cobbler? It's probably no where near as good as mine, but it's winter, I feel the need to fatten up a bit.

Any Day Now

This is a copy of an email I sent out on the 17th:

My mom called last night, it's any day now. She's been dying of a rare stomach cancer now for awhile. She was first diagnosed last year, (around summer of 2003) I just saw her this August after a surgery to unblock her intestines. She was looking better, in great spirits, if a little thin. I was going to go back later on but she took a turn for the worse very quickly and I didn't want to see her that way. I didn't go in December.

In some ways, I regret not going, as I know she wanted to give me a gift she got for me, with help from my mom. She also washed four of her quilts for the kids. But all of my aunts were going and it got tense and strained as I knew it would be. My mom says it's probably best that I didn't go. But, then I didn't go later on either, as I just couldn't handle seeing her that way I guess. Part of me was in denial. I got to hug her and talk to her in August and enjoy some time at her house. But seeing her all yellow, thin, and out of it wasn't how I wanted to remember her.

She's not eating now, not opening her eyes, she's bed ridden in a hospital bed in the livingroom. She can't swallow, so they inject liguid pain medication, and everyone hopes it's actually relieving her pain, since she can't speak. My mom puts a little water in her mouth, because she can tell her mouth is so dry. Her face is sunken and hallowed, and when my mom put the phone up to her, her breathing is slow and labored. Actually, I wasn't thrilled she did that as I haven't heard something that haunting before, it was reality though. It almost sounds like she's on a machine but she's not. Sometimes her breathing is fast and she stops short. Everyone is just waiting, and a bit angry that God is allowing her to hang on like this. To be a shell of a person, urinating in her own bed. ( Even if there's a catheder)

Grandpa is already talking about when he "goes home to the Lord". I knew he would start with that, why would a man who spent 50 years with the love of his life, and for all her oddities he does love her tremendously, want to stay around? He gets up, checks on her, hugs her, kisses her, and prayers over her. Every day and night as he has done all these years. He always has prayed with her every morning and every night. I think in some ways, God allowed me to help my mom get to MN so she could be with her mother in the end, show love to her in a way she didn't even know she could , and be near while she died. Just in July my mom had to come live with us as she had no where to go. Then just two months ago my aunt offered to let my mom stay with her. Every free time my mom has is spent at grandma's house. She's the only one my grandma would allow to bathe her. She would sit naked at the end of the bed, just talking about things that made no sense to anyone else. Saying names of people not known to us. My mom reassured her it was OK, grandma took care of and bathed all of her eight kids, and now it's her turn to help her.

One of the times that she was having a good day, and able to really follow a conversation, she hugged my mom, clung to her as she left for my aunts and told her she didn't want her to go. She didn't want it to end. Although, a person can believe in their heart they possess eternal life it's not natural to leave your loved ones, no matter how much death is a part of life. It just confirms that death is not meant to be, it's a curse of sin. I guess the service is being planned for two weeks after she passes to give all my aunts time to fly out there. I am only six hours away, so I will drive and stay at least a night. Her church will hold the service. She hadn't been to church in months and was best friends with the pastors wife. She wanted to be cremated; I am surprised by that.

My grandma had many issues but we love her and I know she loved us. I hate the way God is taking her home, but I know that even though the process in which she is dying is terrifying, that something so totally amazing is about to happen to her. She's going to meet Jesus at last. And she always believed that with all her heart. There's a song called I Can Only Imagine that just brings this reality home. It's by Mercy Me you have to hear this song, to really feel the impact though.

Cold, Cranky and Complaining

Yes, what a news flash for those of you that know it's Winter. If not, come on over and I'll give you a dose of a what a real Winter is like. This sounds odd coming for a San Diego native I'm sure.

But alas, I have been here six years now. It's official, I am a wisconsite now. And with that comes complaining. I don't even know how cold it is right at this moment and I don't care to check. I prefer to live in denial at this point. I'm Sparky in Christmas vacation, looking outside at four inches of ice in my yard, imagining a sunny poolside, frosty drinks with colorful umbrellas and Brad Pitt....er I mean my sexy husband splashing around.

Wait, no, this can't be right, what is that? I'm abruptly snapped out of my dream world when I notice my window is cracked from top to bottom. Yes, frigid weather can do that to glass. It can do other things that aren't so nice. Just think of George on Seinfeld. Does the term, like a frightened turtle come to mind?

So, what did I do all weekend you ask? (Let's just pretend that you did) Well, absolutely nothing. Unless you considering doing load after load of laundry something worth mentioning. Then there was the constant vacuuming. Oh, how about a few games of pool and uploading of pictures? Maybe bleaching the toilets out can count as weekend hoopla? Sorting through endless piles of paperwork and junkmail? How about actually cooking a meal? (I was lucky enough to have breakfast made for me by my fabulous husband and he even made pizza for dinner too)

What I really would have liked to have done is:

• See Meet the Fockers.
• Shop for new shoes and make up
• Taking some scenic pictures outdoors, in Hawaii of course.
• Getting a massage and facial
• Test driving the Chrysler crossfire
• Spend time with my mom

But if what I really did counts as something , then I had a swell time this weekend. Let's do it again! (not) Why am I vaccuming like crazy again? Bleaching things?

Yes, you might have guessed. If you've been following. Snoo (12) has her "little friends" visiting again. I suspect they never left. Aww, joy. This poor kid is in full on meltdown mode. Wanna know why? (Maybe you don't, but I'm gonna tell you anyways.) Besides the constant crying of, "why me?" and "I just had this last month", there's the endless piles of tissues in her room from crying, nonstop rambling of how unfair it is, and everything she's worried about. (How she fears we'll be mad at her, late work, missing school, my having to clean non stop, staying in her room most of the day.) Bless hear heart.

Then there's the booklet she made entitled "Does God love me?" complete with illustrations of why God might not love her as he keeps choosing her to have intestinal parasites. Nevermind that she still bites at her nails and touches everything she can. Or the fact she's very fond of sliding her hands down every railing and wall in her school building and doesn't wash her hands enough. She does have a side illustrating all the reasons why she thinks God does love her. So, I guess this is turning into a spiritual pilgrimage for her. Who would have thought?

On other note, Mooch doesn't have school today. Since she's in the MPS school district, they have MLK's day off. However, apparently the almost all white suburb we live in feels it's unnesscary to adhere to the traditon of no school on MLK. So, as usual J is up at 6am and Richard is hollaring at him to get his butt moving. I am standing out at the bus stop with Lil' J at 7:35am, praying it's not late again less we freeze to death. All this while Mooch is all snuggled on the warm couch. (What, you didn't think she'd actually sleep in her room, shared by her sister, did you? I might never get her back in there again!) Snoo gets to stay home by default.

Actually any minute her school will be calling me saying, "We are just calling and checking why Snoo is not at school today". She will phrase it just like that, and I'll want to respond with, "because, you continue to fail to alert the parents of when another student is carrying a highly contagious parasitic worm, and she's gotten it AGAIN!" But, this time I won't. I'm too nice. I will tell her why of course, and then her response will be, "oh, we're sorry she won't be here today. We'll look for her tomorrow." Oh. My. God. Are they deaf?

Did you not hear me lady? You really want her back to school tomorrow? If they even so much as see lint in a kids hair, there's all these letters coming home, "your child has been exposed to lice." No such common courtesy for pinworms. Even though, it's 10 times more contagious, and can be a lot harder to get rid of. We have learned this since she's gotten them again!

I am going to call though and complain that there isn't ever any warning. She's picking it up from school obviously and I find it hard to believe that none of the other children have missed school because of this, or they don't know. Unless some dumbass parent is rude enough to just send their kid anyways? In that case, when I find them, I'm going to kick their butt. Seriously. I know that doesn't sound Christ like but then maybe you haven't had them yourself or had to go through your child having them three times!!! Besides, as you can see, I am still human and subject to nice so nice urges.

Subject change. *scratches head* I guess today Mooch and I are supposed to have our 'girl time' and watch a movie and eat popcorn. I feel bad though, cause that will be leaving Snoo out. I think I can hear her crying upstairs even now! Nevermind, that was her singing. Good thing they have those gift certificates for pedicures and manicures at the Kids Salon. When this is all over (please tell me it will be) we'll go have lunch and a spa day. I can hear Ash the cat, trying to dig into the Sponge Bob Square Pants Cheez-it box, he's actually licking it now. Fun, fun, fun. I'm off.

In the mean time, I'm gonna go drink very hot chai and dream of far away germ free, warm places.

Girl Scouts Cause Headaches

So, tonight is my turn to come and help with S's troop. (5th graders) I used to come like every meeting but after getting a migraine once a month, coincidentally on the same Wednesdsay of the month, I got a clue and decided I'm allergic to GS meetings. My hats go off to the leaders (and my medicine cabinet is open) because listening to those girls gossip, cry, shout, sream, laugh, sing, and squeal, for 2 hrs is enough to make you want to gouge your own ears out. Seriously! One year, I helped out at daycamp, and oh my gosh, the bus ride. It was like nothing you have ever seen and ever want to again. Imagine, 10 different troops of girls, ages 7 to 16, on a 1 hr bus ride , each troop being about 20 girls. I am not easily phased, however, I was checking out the escape route in case I felt the need to dive out of the bus for sanity's sake. Then there's the cat fights, and arguments. The divas going at each other, while the hyper ones (my dd included) run all over bouncing into the walls, flinging things at each other. They have been in school for 6+ hrs, so they are more bonkers then normal.

Tonight is my turn to bring a snack.. Wheeeeeeeeee joy for me. I love being a mom, and this stuff is just a drop in the bucket, but it ain't always fun. Can I give them some sleepy herbs in brownies? Is that illegal?

If you never hear from me again, you will know I didn't survive. XOXO

You Might Be Liberal If...

Courtesy of my friend, Kathy

Don't you all go getting your undies in a bunch, just poking a little fun. *poke poke* I'm a political mutt, so I can laugh at all of it objectively.

[As a public service, and with apologies to Jeff Foxworthy, here are
the early warning signs that reveal if you, or someone you care
about, just might be a liberal.]

* You think that protestors outside nuclear power plants are
dedicated activists, but protestors outside abortion clinics are
dangerous zealots interfering with a legal activity.

* You believe that more federal regulations will make your life
better.

* You believe that even though the top 20 percent of taxpayers pay
80 percent of income taxes, that the rich are not paying their "fair
share."

* You think that Rush Limbaugh's listeners are
mindless "dittoheads," but you have never doubted anything that you
heard from Michael Moore.

* You believe that the network news is a better indicator of
what "real" news is than talk radio, Internet news sites, and blogs.

* You believe that there was never, ever a problem with biased news
coverage until Fox News went on the air.

* You believe that Mikhail Gorbachev deserves more credit for losing
the Cold War than Ronald Reagan deserves for winning it.

* You mentally subtract 100 points from someone's IQ if the person
speaks with a Southern accent.

* You think that Dan Rather got a raw deal.

* You think that the phrase "separation of church and state" is in
the Constitution.

* You pride yourself on your global awareness, global sensitivity
and global outlook, but can't name your state legislator or school
board representative.

* You are dedicated to helping the poor, the downtrodden and the
less fortunate, but you have never given blood.

* You believe that a woman should make it on her own, without
depending on her husband (except for Hillary Clinton).

* You believe that professional, working women should never be
judged on their appearance (except for Katherine Harris).

* You believe that rich people should not be allowed to contribute
so much money to candidates for office (except for George Soros).

* You feel a deep sense of common cause with oppressed groups, such
as Hispanic immigrants (except for Cuban Americans fleeing Castro).

* You believe that a mother's wishes for her child, especially a
mother's last, dying wish for her child, should outweigh the wishes
of a father who had long before deserted his family (unless the
child is named Elian Gonzalez).

* You have no problem with Hollywood movie stars flying around in
private jets to give speeches on the evils of SUVs.

* You think that raising taxes will reduce the budget deficit.

* You are more concerned, more often, with the rights of convicted
felons than you are with the rights of small business owners.

* You uphold a woman's right to choose, unless a woman chooses
adoption, chooses to be a stay-at-home mom, chooses to homeschool,
or chooses to start a business.

* You are more concerned with Vice President Cheney's links to
Halliburton than with Saddam Hussein's links to international
terrorism.

* You have used the phrase, "in Europe, the government pays for
health care and vacation," without irony.

* You are worried about how the French view Americans.

* You believe that nativity scenes should be banned from public
view, but that anyone objecting to pornography "only has to look the
other way".

* And finally, you are almost certainly a liberal if you refuse to
admit that you're a liberal, and accuse anyone of calling you a neo-
con.

Gratitude at a glance

This week I'm thankful for:

1. A Faithful husband that adores me
2. That there was only one snow day last week.
3. Tivo
4. Chocolate
5. Fast metabolism
6. Dental Floss and Sonic toothbrushes.
7. Chai tea
8. Good friends
9. Soft lips
10. My family
11. Answering machine screening
12. Neutrogena Sesame Body oil
13. Dreams
14. Vacuum cleaner
15. Door to door bus drop off
16. Passion
17. Ice Mountain water delivered to my door
18. Hope
19. Music
20. Good health
21. Hearing from a childhood friend through classmates
22. Digital cameras
23. Black and white photography
24. Magazines like Shape, BHG, and InStyle
25. Non seasonal fruit at the grocery store
26. Imagination
27. Amy's Black Bean Vegetable Enchilada
28. Headphones
29. Sex
30. Birth control
31. Pine trees in winter
32. Stain remover
33. Helpful neighbors
34. Healthy kids
35. Yesterday and tomorrow

I Got Off My Butt & Lived

Mood- Sleepy *yawn*
Music- Alien Ant Farm- Courage

So last night, I got off my butt. Not saying I'm always on it or anything, but this time I ran.



Yep, finally starting using the treadmill and afterwards I felt like I was high, not that I'd know the feeling of being high. It was a very strange feeling, not your normal runners high. I used to get that when I was in track and for school. I'd feel like I was floating and could run and run. This time, even my head felt strange, and it was this whole equilibrium thing going on.

So I guess I will keep running cause I want to:

1. Get into better shape and drop a few pounds
2. Just to say I actually got on the thing
3. Hear the funny sounds it makes (like someone is working a mattress ;-)
4. Or get a cheap high

Welcome 2005, bring me closer to my Savior, a house, more sex, more muscle ( for good health), but not more bills, sick relatives, or cats. Oh, another car would be nice.

Come Play Pool With Me

I'm back playing pool again, love it, and found a great league to goof with. They in Sweet Melissa, where else would I play? See ya there!!

Ode to Adri

I forgot to thank my friend Adri for the things I steal borrow from her blog. Like the blogger pet I added. Or I should say Richard added. Like I have time to mess with HTML code. Yeah, right.

I'm not sure why I need it or what it does, but I like accessories, so bring on the blog bling!

I wonder though, why does it have to be a white cat. It's obvious I'm a copy cat, pun intended. And frankly it reminds me of my white evil pansy cat that insists on pissing by the front door. I think we need more choices, like maybe a water buffalo. Or a potomus.

A panda bear would be cute, but if I do say so myself, I must have a butterfly pet.

Check out the artwork Adri has up of the mom nursing her babe with the wee ones close by. It's too divine. I think that print would make a good gift for our breastfeeding Nazi friend, Kris. Her words, not mine.

Hairy Cake

Nothing says yummy like hairy cake! So, I thought I was done posting for the day. I just decided to sample my slice of lemon layer cake from the pick n save deli in Germantown and discovered a very long hair. For once it wasn't mine.

Ew. Gross! Don't they wear hair nets anymore? Thank God I didn't actually eat that bite or I'd be going postal right about now. To me, one of the nastiest things in the world is the feeling of hair in my mouth. I'm not talking about the short curly ones either! That's even nastier. Guess I didn't need the sugar and fat anyways, I think I'm getting a butthigh.

Mooch's Passport Arrived

France, here she comes.

I can't believe how fast time has flown. Here she is, a 5th grader already, and it's almost time for her to take her first overseas trip. A trip we only faintly imagined years ago when we first enrolled her in school. It's becoming very real and I'm getting nervous. Two days before Christmas I stood in line at the post office to apply for her passport to be express shipped. This alone cost us $120. The school has to have their passport information now when sending over all paperwork ahead.

She's been in the French immersion school since K4, and we always knew, Lord willing, we'd send her on the school trip once she was in 5th grade. Actually most of these kids have known each other since K4, and they do not accept new students if they are past the 1st grade so it's a pretty tight group of kids going this year. I am sure there are many different reasons why the other 5th graders aren't going, but the kids that will be will be thinking of them.

The passport came on Monday, and the reality of it hit us. Our eleven year old daughter is going to get a stamp in her passport before us. Nevermind that, we don't even have a passport!!! In the last few years the 5th graders haven't gone. First with 911, the kids obviously stayed home. With each year since the committee determines in early Fall if they will be allowed to travel, even though they don't depart until Spring. With the terroism going on around this world, it's a scary thing. We are taking a chance on a few levels.

For one, it's both exciting and nerve wrecking to see our children go off into a foreign country, with just two school chaperones. They are staying in the home of a family we have never met. Virtually, they are strangers except for a few weeks worth of letters and phone calls we'll soon be receiving.

Secondly, they are just 5th graders after all and it's a very long flight, over the water, without their parents. You can believe I'll be on my knees almost the whole day until l hear she's landed safely.

Thirdly, it's a financial gamble. Once the tickets are bought, deposits on field trips and busses are made, if this trip is cancelled, we won't see a penny of that money. We had to make a deposit in early September to determine how many parents were really serious about sending their kids. Since then there has been two other $200 installments. Incredibly, we learned that we were getting an awesome deal with Air France and the airfare dropped to around $600. I think once spending money is factored in, and whatever wasn't covered by fundraising for field trips, they will travel at just over $800. It's an amazing, once in a lifetime opportunity for most of these kids! So on March 10th they will arrive in Salon De Province, fully fluent in the language, partaking in a huge taste of freedom and autonomy like they have never experienced before.

Bon voyage!


Now, I'm off to search for colorful, lightweight & easy to carry luggage.

Perverts at Taco Bell?

Or maybe it's just me. Taco Bell has clever little sayings on their sauce packets now.

Richard's was: Nice palm, I read a great deal of pleasure in your future

Maybe my friend is right. She's always telling me for a born again Christian, I'm a perv. Heh.

Photos

Technology is grand but I am getting sick of trying to decide where to host pictures. I find Hello to not be very user friendly and so far, only helpful for putting a few pictures up here and there. I have photos in Yahoo photo albums but it's a pain in the ass and very slow. It keeps switching to default so it won't let you all see the pictures. I have some at shutterfly for friends and family to view or print, but I get a million sales emails and "hurry and buy your pictures before we delete them forever" messages. Should I try pbase? Do it myelf?

I started uploading at picture trail but it was like watching grass grow. It reminded me of the days when we used dial up. Then after waiting for what seemed like an eternity it would give me an error message where I would promptly hear the word F*** flying out of my mouth, sometimes over and over! I'm not given to crash words or swearing like some buddies of mine. It was rather startling for Richard.

He said yes. I didn't find it so cute at the moment, I had just "browsed" through hundreds of images to wait like 20 minutes for nothing! But that don't matter to him, he gets turned on when I'm mad. I just want to upload my pictures. Grrr.

We can't have me cursing at the computer monitor so I decided to try Flickr. I put up like 15 pictures and I have already reached my monthly limit. How amusing considering I have literally like 5,000 photos.

Face of a Blogger

Profile Pic

My New Years Resolution

In the year 2005 I resolve to: Become anti-social. Get your resolution here