Just Call Me Selena (I Guess)

Well, okay, maybe not. I’m still Hannah. (In real life.)

 

But, I did it. I took the plunge. I am officially in a role-playing group on Facebook. It’s scary. Intimidating. My stomach starts to hurt when I’m about to post a comment. (I’ve talked about this group before.) But I decided what the hell? It really means a lot to my sister for some reason and she came up with a character that sort of fits me. Her name is Selena and she’s a human (my sister plays a demon) that owns a mystical/tarot card/fortune telling shop in New Orleans. I’m into that in real life so that helps. But now I really have to study up on my herbs and stones and incense because I don’t want to be inaccurate. Like I said in my previous post, the other people in the group know these characters better than I do and my limited knowledge of the mystical and magical will only get me so far.

 

So, I’m taking it slow. I did a little with my sister chatting with me telling me what to write. The next time, I didn’t need as much help from her, but she was on the chat with me to give me encouragement. But today, I think I’m going to try doing it by myself. I’m making cheat sheets of how people are related to me and what herbs and stones and oils are good for what. (I’m such a nerd that way. Research, research, research.) Luckily, I have plenty of books already that will help me and I’ve found some good websites too. I’d better get big time ‘sister points’ for doing this, because it’s outside my comfort zone. Totally.

 

I don’t know if it’s my impending birthday or if it’s you guys here and my blog or what exactly, but I feel like I need to keep pushing myself away from what’s comfortable. Constantly pushing and testing my limits. I can’t forever spend my whole life being a shy timid person. What kind of life is that? If I stay boxed into myself, I’ll end up as the little old lady that never leaves her house. And I don’t want to be that. I want to travel. I want to have fun! The last eleven years haven’t had enough fun in them and I plan on making up for that when my kids move away from home. So I have to start small now and keep stretching and molding myself into someone who doesn’t shy away from challenges and new experiences.

 

 

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It’s kind of like yoga. (Which today was my third class and it’s still nerve-racking, but I am really enjoying it. And someone actually talked to me today! Shocker!) Anyway, you start small and keep stretching yourself and eventually you are able to fully reach a position. Then you move on to a new position that tests you and you keep working at it until you’ve accomplished it. I really feel like I can do this. I’ve already started doing so many little things in my life that even a year ago I never would have done. I’ve started exercising (in public!), started this blog, posted comments to complete strangers and not worried what they thought about me. I’ve even stood up to people in meetings that don’t agree with what I’m saying and I didn’t back down. I didn’t get my way in the end, but at least I voiced my opinion instead of fell into line with everyone else.

 

I’m beginning to realize that I don’t have to be afraid. I’m don’t have to be ashamed. Everyone has made mistakes in their lives. Most people are not going to judge me on my mistakes. And those that choose to look only at my mistakes and not at how I changed and learned from them? Fuck ‘em. I don’t need them. I have plenty of people who love me for who I am today, not who I was 10, 15 years ago.

 

And if someone doesn’t agree with my ideas or choices, that’s okay. I don’t have to let it bother me. I don’t have to have everyone’s approval about everything. As long as the people I care about the most stand with me, I don’t give a shit what some stuck-up, stuffy, elitist bitch thinks.

 

I really had no intention of this becoming a self-affirmation post of any kind, but these things have a way of evolving all on their own. I feel good about myself today. I feel strong. I don’t know what it is. But I’m practically brimming right now.

I’m Having A WTF Moment

First of all, I have to apologize for my small hiatus from the blogging world. I’ve been trying to get used to my new laptop (and get all my software installed) while simultaneously trying to convince my three year old that Mommy’s laptop is not for him to poke at and push buttons and play with. Not an easy task. I’m back to only using it when he’s in bed. Maybe eventually he’ll let me type in peace. I’m also doing something I’ve never done before and that is try to write this while I’m drinking. So who knows if it’ll make sense in the end. Or if I’ll be able to put it out there without mistakes. But, here’s hoping.

 

I’m not completely caught up reading everyone’s blogs, but I’m working at it. Which leads me to my first WTF moment.

 

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What is the point of having “hidden blogs” if they still show up in your reading list? Or am I not doing something right? I can’t get to everyone’s blogs all the time, so I have a few that I put in a hidden list to get to when I have extra time.  I opened up my dashboard tonight planning on doing some reading (because if I’m being perfectly honest, I didn’t have the slightest clue what to write about.) And what’s the first post on my list? One from my hidden list! The whole point of putting them there was so I wouldn’t have to sort through the ones I want to read right away and the ones that can wait awhile. This is fucking up my system!

 

I’m also pissed off at Hubby. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I am a bit of a firecracker. Or, as we call it in our house, a pistolie. (It started off as a pistol and evolved from there. My husband has a funny habit of putting his own spin on words. Christ, even when I’m pissed at him, I can’t help but talk about what I like about him!) But anyway, calling myself a firecracker is putting it nicely. I can be downright bitchy. So maybe I’m overreacting. Or maybe I just expect too much.

 

Last night I had a decent sized paragraph written about what happened, but the light of day has brought some reason and sanity back to me. I’m still pissed, but I’m not really a believer in airing dirty laundry and all that. I’ll just say that marriage is not always sunshine and roses, but sometimes it’s better to forget it and move on. Sometimes, it’s not worth arguing over. I know I’m right about the issue, but there is no convincing him that he’s wrong. So, I’m dropping it (although it would feel really good to hear him say he’s sorry and that he knows he did the wrong thing.) We’re both too damn stubborn though and I hate fighting fights I know I can’t win.

I Just Can’t Focus Today

This seems to be a common affliction today. This lack of focus. My brain just doesn’t seem up to the task of processing anything. I’d like to blame it on lack of sleep, but I know I’ve been getting more sleep than my poor friends Kat (who’s so very sick; go over to her blog and give her some love) and Jewels (who’s been battling her own bouts of insomnia), so it doesn’t really seem right that I complain. But I did have two thoughts that I wanted to throw out there. If for nothing else than to free up the brain power it’s taking to ponder these ideas.

 

My laptop is supposed to be delivered today and according to the tracking information, is on the truck for delivery. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if part of the tracking details gave you an up-to-the minute GPS location? It seems too hard to pull off (from a company’s perspective), but think about it this way. If each truck (or airplane) were equipped with GPS (which I imagine most of them are), then all it would require for this GPS tracking would be one extra scan. They scan the package when it comes and goes from their “terminals” so if they could scan the ID of each vehicle it was going on to, that information could go into the computer system and their websites could show the GPS location of the package. That way you could see how far away the truck is from your home and wouldn’t have to keep looking out your window every 15 minutes to see if you can see the truck coming around the corner. Not like I am, or anything…

 

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My other thought was this: When you see an actor in two different shows playing totally different characters, does it affect how you look at each character? There is an actor that has a small role on Sesame Street’s “Elmo’s World.” His name is Bill Irwin and he plays Mr. Noodle.

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Last year, he took a role on one of my favorite shows, “CSI.” He plays a psychopath serial killer, Nate Haskill. I’m not sure if the character by itself freaks me out or if I’m more freaked out by him because I’ve seen him play this other character. Whichever the case, he’s scary!

 

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The fact that he is also a trained clown may be the reason for my fear. He’s always sort of disturbed me on Sesame Street, too. (I hate clowns! Scary, scary, scary!)

To Me, Summer Is…

I heard a song on the radio yesterday that was meant to lift everyone’s spirits and get us thinking about summer. And since the ground that had almost shed all of it’s snowy blanket is now covered up again, I thought maybe if I started dreaming about summer, it would come that much faster. I started making a list in my head of all the things that said summer to me. (And here’s the song, in case you were curious.)

 

Kenny Chesney–Summertime courtesy of (C) 2005 BMG Music

 

When I think of summer, I think of:

• driving with the car windows down
• cruising around or long trips in the car
• baby calves
• green pastures
• the smell of fresh cut hay
• boat rides
• Mayfest
• grilling out
• ice cold beer
• fireworks
• smores
• camping out
• fireflies
• staying out all night

 

And before I leave you, I wanted to share another song (by a group I love) that gets my summer-dreaming heart thinking we’re that much closer. I think the video’s pretty fun too.

 

Rascal Flatts - Summer Nights courtesy of (C) 2009 Lyric Street Records, Inc.

 

What makes you think of summer?

Beware The Wrath Of The Female Pisces

Do you like to read your horoscope? Do you read it the day before? Do you read it the same day? Or are you like me and don’t read it until months after the day has passed? It’s nothing personal against horoscopes; I like reading what they have to say. And more often than not, it seems like useful advice. (Although, they seem to be getting more and more watered down. Kinda like the fortune inside fortune cookies. “You should be able to undertake and complete anything.” Kinda broad. Or maybe it’s just my luck that gets me vague fortunes.) Anyway, the reason I don’t read them the day before or the day it is supposed to apply to actually has nothing to do with the horoscope itself. It’s actually because I like to do the crossword puzzles that are on the same page in the newspaper and I refuse to look ahead for fear of seeing an answer to a puzzle I haven’t done yet. (I know, pretty weird, right?) Then to make matters worse, I don’t the crosswords every day so I have a huge stack of newspapers patiently waiting for my attention. But I like doing it my way better because I can still glean the information from my horoscope without stressing out about what it could be trying to tell me about my day. And like I said, it’s usually more advice that could apply any day.

One that I clipped out and keep in my jewelry box is one such example.

The roadblocks on the path to romance are not big problems. They’re more like a dozen daily habits that don’t exactly engender closeness or excitement. Seize playful moments and make the most of them.

See? Anyone can use and apply that to their lives. But then over the weekend, I read my horoscope from December 20. (I wasn’t kidding when I told you I had a serious backlog of newspapers.)

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Your sign can change moods as quickly as a chameleon changes colors. But today you’ll be in a state of mind that you want to hang on to for as long as possible. External circumstances cannot change this.

I read this to my husband and he gave me a look that said, “You’re telling me!” Apparently all Pisces have mercurial moods, but in my case, it is amplified by 1,000 when I’m PMSing. A week ago Saturday was one of those days and it was not fun for anyone in this house. I could feel my moods flying all over the place like a really bad rollercoaster ride. And I’m sure my husband wanted to scream, “I want off this ride! This is not what I paid for!” I was bouncing from being fine to pissed off to tears with no real warning as to when or how the next mood would strike. Then after my three year old had gone to bed, I showed a real lack of judgment by adding wine to the mix because, “I needed to relax.”

Normally when I drink, I’m a happy drunk. (Okay, a happy buzzer because I rarely ever get drunk anymore.) I laugh and talk and am generally cheerful. Probably obnoxiously so. You know the type. The one who won’t stop talking long enough to let anyone else get in a word. (I attribute that solely to my lack of conversation any other day of the week.) The one who finds everything super funny and is always laughing and playfully touching everyone. Yeah, that’s pretty much me. (I’m totally ruining my chances of anyone wanting to go have drinks with me now, aren’t I?)

But, as I have learned, a PMSing Pisces that drinks just three glasses of wine (that might have been a bit much), turns into the pathetic, crying drunk. It all started off good because I could feel myself starting to relax and I was chatting with my husband while we watched…(what did we watch? Some form of MMA I think, but now I’m not sure.) Well, whatever was on TV. Then I started telling him I was sorry for being so difficult during the day and that I thought I must be PMSing. I could feel the tears starting to well up and before I knew what happened, I was a blubbering mess. I could have been a walking commercial for why drinking is bad. Or Midol. (Although, I’m not sure if Midol does much to help the mood swings. Does anything?) My poor husband. What he doesn’t have to put up with. Thank goodness that time of the month only comes once a month. And that drinking is not something I often indulge in. And that I married a Scorpio who is somehow fated to put up with my shit.

(As as aside, I was looking at the characteristics of Pisces in that picture. I don’t think they apply during PMS.)

Just A Bunch Of Gobblety-Gook (Plus Yoga!)

I really didn’t know what to write about, so I’m just gonna start talking at random and see where it leads. Fortunately, I’m not on any cold meds right now, so my head is firmly attached to my neck and all body parts feel as they should. In other words, I don’t think there will be any fog-related, incoherent babble. Well, just based on what I’ve written so far, I could be wrong.

 

The first thing I wanted to mention was this really cool bookshelf that is down at the bottom of my blog. All the way down there. Coolest. Thing. Ever. (Thanks Chanel for letting me steal it from you.) I love putting all the books (that I could remember) that I’ve read in there and then ranking and reviewing them. Okay, well, I haven’t actually gotten around to reviewing them, but it’s in the plan to do so. Feel free to peruse my book shelf and see if there’s something there that might tickle your fancy. I’ve even included books that I haven’t liked so much just so I can keep track of how many I’ve read over the course of the year. Maybe you’ll like one that I didn’t. Never hurts to try.

 

Another thing is I have a poll that I started over the weekend. It’s mostly out of curiosity because I really have no intention of changing the way I do things. But I have been wondering how many people go back and read the comments that the blogger may have left for you or the comments that other people read. Sometimes I start asking questions in my replies to comments and I don’t know if you’ll ever see them or not. So, vote if you so choose and if you want to comment on the poll, please feel free. I’d like to think of my blog (as I’m sure many other bloggers do) as an open discussion where we can talk back and forth. It makes life more interesting, doesn’t it?

 

Today my daughter doesn’t has school because of President’s Day and it’s really thrown things out of whack for me. I’m such a creature of habit, any little deviation from my normal day makes me feel all discombobulated the rest of the day. Today also happened to be my first day of yoga class so that’s a whole new element of my daily schedule that I’ll have to get used to. So instead of trying to sleep in and be lazy on my daughter’s day off, I was up at my regular “school day” time and had myself and both kids ready and out the door at 8:30 so they could play at my mother-in-law’s house while I tried out this whole yoga thing.

 

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The class, honestly, went better than I expected. It was bigger than I hoped it would be, but like everything else I’ve experienced at the Y, I’m the youngest in the group by probably ten years, (although the majority of the class had a good 25-35 years on me.) But this time, it worked out in my favor because I’m still quite a bit more flexible than most of them. (Not all I don’t think because there are some freakishly in shape retired people there!) It was the start of a new session, but as the instructor didn’t recognize me, she came over and introduced herself and asked if I had taken any yoga classes before. I said no, but I had done it on the Wii. I laughed when I said it because I didn’t think it was going to make much of a difference, but it really did help. She told me that she would show certain modifications to some of the positions, and I could work at my own pace. But being the superstar that I am (just kidding, I’m actually nowhere close to superstar status,) I didn’t need to do any of the modifications to make it easier. Did I feel it? Oh yeah. Am I going to be sore? I think in some parts of my body I will be, but I really enjoyed it! Even the instructor after the class said I did really well (“I’m a natural” were her exact words) and that the Wii must have helped. (I don’t know why I giggle every time I talk about doing yoga on the Wii. It sounds so kidish. Oh well.)

 

After my class, I picked my kids up and at my husband’s recommendation, took them to McDonald’s for lunch. That was stupid on top of brain dead. With no school today, the place was packed and the play place was a nightmare come true. Kids were everywhere and adults were scarce. Even my kids were a bit taken aback by the commotion (ah, I’m raising them well) and didn’t feel like staying long. My daughter (much to my amazement) patiently helped her brother through the tunnels and showed him where I was sitting and watching, so they could wave. He was pretty scared so they only went through the thing a handful of times because he was going so…slow…But she was good and only left him sit once while she crawled up and around calling for him to follow her. But I watched in horror as big kids chased little kids trying to scare them and one big sister kept picking up her very small (maybe two year old) sister by the wrists and standing her on one of the play tables, then telling her to jump from the table to the stool to the floor. Um, hello, can we get a parental figure over here please?! We’ve got a big sister trying to maim little sister! (Parents/caregivers should come up with a code system like cops or doctors for situations like that. “We’ve got a 10-16 in progress! Requesting parental authority immediately!” Just a thought.) Maybe I should have been the one to step in and stop it, but frankly, I’ve seen it enough times where a parent goes ape shit on another parent for trying to tell their kids what to do and I just wasn’t prepared to deal with that. If we would have been at the school, yes, I would have been more comfortable stopping the behavior. But McDonald’s? Nope. Sorry. Maybe that makes me less of a good person, but that’s me.

 

That was when I decided it was time to go home (the kids had had enough trying to compete for tunnel space anyway) so I could get my little guy down for his nap and laundry started. It’s way late to be starting laundry (did I mention my whole day goes to shit when my schedule is messed up?), but I’m trying to get through it.

 

Oh yeah, a piece of good news. Remember when I talked about my son always wanting to be on the computer any time I would try to sit down at it? My husband and I ordered a laptop for me over the weekend and I should have it by the end of the week! Do you hear angels singing? Cause I do! I’m so excited because now I’ll be able to relax on the couch and write whatever, any time I get the words flowing in my brain! It’ll be great! No more having to pick between watching TV with Hubby or working on the computer. I’ll be able to do both! And in situation like now, where the neighbor comes over, rings the doorbell to ask if my daughter can come over to play and it wakes up my sleeping son. Goddamn it! Okay, deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Chicken, Fine. High School, What?!

Well, I’m going to pretend my breakdown yesterday didn’t happen and just move forward. But before I do, I think it’s important to review the lessons learned or reinforced from yesterday.

 

1. Drinking too much coffee before running is a really bad idea. (I’m not even going to go into it because I don’t want to relive the horror.)
2. Trying to reason with children of any age will only result in a headache. (This doesn’t really require any explanation. Kids don’t listen. Period.)
3. Read the directions carefully at least twice before making a recipe. (It’s kinda like construction. Measure twice, cut once. Read twice, don’t screw it up. Luckily everything turned out still tasting good.)
4. There are untold treasures waiting to be found under the couch cushions.
5. Denying that you’re sick does not actually make the illness go away faster. (I caught my kids’ cold and have been trying to tell myself that it will go away fast and with little discomfort because I have been downing vitamins, exercising, staying hydrated, etc. I finally concede defeat. I’m sick and I feel like shit.)
6. Moms don’t get to take a sick day.

 

(Your regularly schedule post will now continue.)

 

I’ve debated whether or not to do a post similar to this ever since I learned of the news, but it’s finally reached a point where I feel like I have to speak out. In January, Flavor Flav opened a restaurant specializing in fried chicken in the town where I live. It was a shock when I learned of the news, because this is a relatively small city on the river. If it were New York City or Los Angeles or some other major urban city, it wouldn’t have fazed me at all, but come on, this is Iowa! After getting over the initial shock and hearing all the different reactions, I didn’t really care if Flav or any other celebrity wanted to open a restaurant here. Actually, we should be glad because it’s providing more jobs and generating sales tax (which a portion of our local sales tax is being used to build a new middle school.) So if anything, we should be thanking Flavor Flav for causing such a buzz and drawing people from all around to eat in our town.

 

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And believe me, they came in large numbers. I haven’t been there to eat, but I have driven past a few times during the evening and seen the lines of people waiting to get in. Even in the bitter cold and snow, people would stand outside for an hour or more, just to get inside to order. Probably with the hope of catching a glimpse of Flav himself. (Which he was good about mingling with the customers.) Apparently, the chicken that is made is Flav’s own recipe and that struck me as odd because how many rappers take pride in their own special fried chicken seasoning? There were a number of articles in our local paper leading up to the opening and the week following. In one of those articles I read that Flavor Flav had gone to and graduated “cooking school.” Okay, that answers my question then. (And I’ve heard that the chicken really tastes quite good.)

 

Finally, the articles about the restaurant and Flavor Flav dwindled until they had all but stopped.

 

Until last week.

 

Last Saturday, an article on the front page stated that Flavor Flav had met with the superintendent of our school district about the possibility of doing a reality TV show. A show where Flav would go back to high school and finally get his high school diploma. Excuse me? Say that again? He wants to take cameras into the school (where other children are trying to learn) and film himself getting his high school diploma?

 

What genius thought that scheme up? Who would think that was a good idea? How can anyone expect the other students to not be distracted by that? They said that they would only do the filming after school hours, but then, how is that documenting him getting his high school education? And even if the cameras were not inside during the school day when other students were around, they would still be distracted by him. Just him being there would cause the kids to focus less on the instruction and more on what Flavor Flav was doing or saying. Apparently, the superintendent has already shot down the idea, but that still leaves one question lingering in my mind.

 

How did he get into “cooking school” without a high school degree? According to the article in the paper, he graduated from “cooking school” in 1978 and worked as head cook at numerous places after that. (Side question: Is “cooking school” and “culinary school” the same thing? Or are we talking about two different educations?) But isn’t a high school degree required to attend cooking school? Am I the only one fixated on this one issue? I’ve heard lots of opposition to the idea of his show, but I haven’t heard anyone else talk about this specifically. I just can’t get past it and I can’t figure it out. Hence the post.

 

So, all in all, fried chicken restaurant, fine. Going back to high school, I don’t get it.

Impressions

Is it wrong that I notice people and wonder what their story is? Maybe that’s not the right way of describing it. (I wish there was a website were you could type in your “definition” of a word and it would give you a list of possible matches. If you know of one, let me know!) Maybe what I mean is, is it wrong that I wonder what’s going on behind closed doors? (Not in the sick, voyeuristic way, but in the metaphorical way.)

 

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Let me explain.

 

A couple of weeks ago, I went to my daughter’s D.A.R.E. graduation. (As much as I appreciate what the program is trying to do, I’m so glad it’s over. You can read about why here.) Anyway, toward the end of the little “ceremony” they had, they played a slideshow of photos the kids had taken of each other while eating lunch or during recess. They were cute and sometimes pretty funny because it was just a bunch of kids being kids and being silly. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I have limited patience and a group of kids being wild and silly is not my cup of tea. But these were pictures so I didn’t have to live through it, I just got to enjoy the smiles on their faces. But I happened to spot another mother in the audience during the slideshow and she was expressionless. Practically scowling. I didn’t see her crack a smile, laugh, or even lift one side of her mouth to show she was enjoying the pictures. I don’t really know her all that well, but since her daughter and mine have been in the same school together since Kindergarten, ours paths have crossed. She always seems to be somber, unapproachable, and almost hostile. I have also seen her husband at the school on occasion and he seems very different than her. So then, I can’t help but wonder, Is he cheating on her? How is he able to be happy when he has to be around such a grumpy person? Odds are he’s probably not, and who knows, maybe she’s a wild sex goddess in the bedroom and carefree and fun at home. I don’t know and it’s not really my business, but still that nagging thought is there.

 

Another example. In my subdivision, there is a nice house (and when I say nice, it’s looks nice from the outside. I’ve never been inside.) The family that owns the house just bought it and moved in last summer (I believe.) Yesterday, when I was coming home after dropping my daughter off at school, I saw a For Sale Sign in their yard. Me being who I am, wondered why they were moving so soon. And I proceeded to come up with a list of reasons why someone would sell and move out of a house they had so recently purchased. But, what business is it of mine? Why do I need to speculate their reasons for moving? I don’t. It doesn’t affect me at all.

 

For a while, I kept telling myself that it wasn’t a big deal that I was doing this. I mean, I don’t usually share my curiosities. And I told myself that most people probably do this. But then I started wondering what people see or think when they see me.

 

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When people see me, do they see a friendly person trying to do good for her family? Would they suspect that I’m actually scared and lonely and at my wit’s end?

 

Do they see a young mother unable to control her kids or do they give me the benefit of the doubt and assume I’m trying as hard as I can?

 

Do they think because I have a nice house and truck that we got an inheritance and spent it all on that? Or would believe my husband worked hard to earn what we have?

 

Do they see a confident young woman with the whole world ahead of her? Would they wonder if I’m actually crying out to be seen?

 

Do they see someone who is modest and a goody two-shoes? Would they ever think that I’m actually craving more sex with my husband, but is too afraid of rejection to go after it?

 

Do they see a young woman? Would they ever guess my actual age and then add on thirty more years for the age I feel?

 

So maybe it’s not such a good idea to try to see what’s under the surface. There are things behind the masks probably better left unseen. Maybe I shouldn’t spend so much time wondering about what’s happening inside other people and just focus on what’s happening inside me.

 

I know this is a little different post than what I normally do and I don’t really know where I’m going with it, but getting it out of my head somehow clarifies my thoughts. Let’s just call it some mental cleansing and leave it at that.

I Feel Like Dancing!

I was honored this week by Chanel and Lonely Suitor who both gave me an award! (Lonely Suitor even called me vivid, sexy and unruly! He knows the way to this mama’s heart!) I have to send a huge thank you to both of them for thinking enough of me to give me this award. Thank you so much! It really means a lot.

 

 

So to follow the rules of the award, I have to tell you all seven things about myself. That’s not an easy thing to do, but I’ll do my best.

 

1. I was a football and basketball cheerleader all through high school, but graduated in the top 10% of my class (of 44).
2. I spent my first semester of college pre-med at the University of Illinois, but dropped out because I found out I was pregnant. I finally finished my two year degree after I got married (and my daughter was in elementary school) through an online program. It’s in Business Management/Accounting.
3. I get mildly claustrophobic in confined places. I’m fine in elevators, but if I’m in the middle of a crowded aisle at Wal-Mart and both ends are blocked, I sometimes start to hyperventilate. If you put a blanket over my head or wrap my legs up too tight, I will freak out!
4. I love when everything is completely silent. I’ll sit and savor the moment. But I would also listen to Trace Adkins talk all day long just because his voice makes me weak in the knees. He could read the dictionary for all I care.
5. I have only flown on an airplane twice in my life. I didn’t hate it, but I would much rather drive. I flew to once to California and another time to Delaware. My husband and I drove down to Disney World with our daughter (when she was six) non-stop. My favorite part was driving through the “mountains” of Tennessee as the sun was coming up. Everyone else was asleep and I almost woke them up, but I decided to let them sleep and enjoy the view on my own.
6. I am obsessed with ghosts. I have been ever since I was a really little kid. I’ve had some small experiences and completely believe they exist. I would like to try going along on an investigation to see if I could be brave to do it or if I would chicken out.
7. I’m not a great cook, as illustrated here, but I love to bake. (And I’m actually pretty good at it too.)

 

Last time, I mentioned that I was a huge Jeff Gordon fan and that I met him (briefly) and had my picture taken with him. (That was seriously one of the most exciting days of my life!) I posted it on my “About Me” if you haven’t seen it yet.

 

Now I am supposed to pass this award on to 10 bloggers. One specified blogs that I recently started following and the other just said blogs that I deem worthy. So it’ll be a little of both.

 

1. The Onion at A Lot of Layers: I just started following her, but she cracks me up! I’m trying to work backwards through her blog and her stories have me doubled over with laughter.
2. Alice X at Guys, Boys & Men: I’m also a new follower to her blog, but I like her take on a lot of subjects and her blog looks like a magazine’s website. I can’t figure out how she did it, but I was amazed the first time I saw it.
3. Julianna at Surviving Boys: I’m pretty new to her blog but she is a super talented woman with great stories about her family. Some are funny, some are touching, and some make you want to join her fights!
4. .end transmission at Get Off My Lawn: I’m super new to his blog, but his poem, “Her” for Average Girl’s Battle of the Blogs won me over. He has a way with words. In his poem and in his blog.
5. Sandra at Absolutely Narcissism: Even though she has hordes of followers and doesn’t need little ‘ol me telling her how awesome she is, I wanted to acknowledge her because well, she’s awesome and her stories are hilarious!
6. Alittlesprite at A little Sprite: I love reading her stories, plus she lives in Australia so it’s fun to “listen” to her talk. (And her birthday is the day after mine!)
7. ms. caboo at Aeracura-A Blossoming Life: We both have the same passion for reading and she’s inspired me to read 100 books this year. Plus, she also enjoys to exercise (while I’m still trying to like it) so she keeps me pumped with her stories of Tai Chi and running.
8. Kat at Tapetum Lucidum: I know that she just got this award not long ago, but I really think she’s awesome. I love her stories, she makes me laugh, and she’s just a person that you feel good being around. I’m lucky to have met her.

 

I guess that’s going to have to be all because I’m tired and my brain hurts from all the thinking and staring at the computer.

 

Thanks again to Chanel and Lonely Suitor for giving me the award and to all my followers and commenters who think what I have to say is worth looking at. I’m so lucky to have you.

Prank Calls, Dreams, and Missed Sleep

Last week I promised Chanel (who’s really great, if you haven’t checked her out, you should) that I would share my “prank phone call” experience after reading one that happened to her. Mine was not as recent, but it still sticks in my memory banks.

 

Let me set the stage.

 

My freshman year of high school, I was dating a senior. (What were my parents thinking allowing me to do that?!) He had a very common name. We’ll call him “John Smith.” He would call my house all the time and sometimes he would do silly stuff when I would pick up, like play a song or something. Now remember, this was before any of us (at least any of us in high school) had cell phones or even caller-id. When you heard the phone ringing, you had to answer and hope that it was someone you wanted to talk to. So one night the phone rang at my house and I answered it.

 

A man on the other end: “Hello. This is John Smith and I’d like to talk with the head of the household.”

Me (laughing because it sounded so serious): “Okay. That’s me.” (Obviously not true as I was only 15.)

John Smith: “You’re the head of the house?”

Me (being the typical teenager): “Yep!”

John Smith: ….

John Smith: “Okay, I’m calling to talk to you about…”

(I don’t remember what exactly it was now, but I continued to play along answering questions.)

Me (growing bored with the game): “Will you stop now and just talk to me?”

John Smith: “Stop what?”

Me: “Stop trying to prank me and just talk to me.”

John Smith: “I don’t understand. I’m from…” (I don’t remember the company name he said.)

Me: “You are not. Knock it off and talk to me!”

John Smith: “I really am. Is this the head of the household?”

Me: “Yes, now just talk to me!”

John Smith (growing very uncomfortable): “Um, are you sure you’re the head of the household?”

Me (finally coming to the realization that this is not my boyfriend): “Oh my God! I thought you were someone else! No, I’m not! Oh my God! I’m sorry!”

And I promptly hung up the phone. That man had probably never been so happy to end a sales call in his life.

 

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Have you ever been woken up so abruptly that you have no idea what’s going on, but spring to action, hoping to resolve the problem and still get back to bed to catch the few remaining minutes of sleep before your alarm goes off? That was me last night. I was in the middle of a dream about all of you, my blogging friends. I don’t really remember what was going on, but Hero was so excited to show off his new hairstyle. It was a mohawk dyed red (think UFC’s Dan Hardy.)

 

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Anyway, I was sound asleep and dreaming when suddenly I heard my son make a loud noise in his room. I jumped out of bed, ran across my room and into the hallway where I met him coming out of his room. I’m thinking there’s very little time before my alarm is set to go off and I want him to go back to bed so I can get those last few precious minutes. I herded him back into his room and helped him into his bed. He started whining that he wanted his bouncy ball to sleep with, so I told him I’d get it for him and, (for the love of God!) stay in bed. I rushed out to the living room and after a moment or two of looking, couldn’t find it. I grabbed his MP3 player and took it in to him. I got him tucked in and I staggered back to my bed and looked at my clock as I came around to my side of the bed. 12:38 am. Normally, that would have been great because I’d still have a good long stretch to sleep. Last night however, not so great because I couldn’t fall back to sleep. I tossed and turned and counted in my head. Nothing. I thought about getting up to start writing, but I knew I’d really never get back to sleep if I did that. I started getting pissed because I could hear my husband’s deep breathing next to me and knew that he wasn’t fazed in the least by our son’s awakening. The last time I remember looking at the clock was around 1:20 am. Until 3:30 am when I heard my bedroom door open and my son start talking. I sat bolt upright in bed and shouted, “No!” That finally got my husband’s attention and I think he took our son back to bed. I can’t really remember.

 

Needless to say, hearing the alarm go off this morning was not a happy moment for me. (Not that it is any other day, but today it was exceptionally unwelcome.) To make matters worse, today I had to take my daughter in early for band rehearsal. (Which means leaving an hour early.) It’s not at her school, but at another elementary school in town, so I had to make sure my brain was functioning at a high enough level to go the right way. (I have been known to miss my turn and keep heading to her school when I was supposed to go to this other school for rehearsal. What? It’s not part of the routine to turn for the other school.) She apparently didn’t sleep well either because she was a real peach this morning.

 

I need a nap.

Friday Was A “Pleasurable” Night Indeed

If you embarrass easily, feel uncomfortable watching R rated sex scenes, or have small children in the room, this may not be for you. Come back tomorrow and I’ll have something much more PG-13 (at least it’s PG in my head. Things could change as I start writing.) But wait! Before you go, I want to say hello to my new followers (somehow I even snagged Simple Dude)! Go figure that the one time I get chosen for a “selected comment” by Simple Dude, it’s about bathroom business! But welcome and I hope you enjoy yourselves! And also thank you to all my followers! I’m amazed that I’ve hit 25. I’ve found some really great people out there and I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate your comments and the time you take to read my blog.

 

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So Friday I told you that I was going to a “hostess” party that a friend from high school was having at her house. What I didn’t tell you was that it was a “Pleasure Surprise Party” and was for women only! (I’d seen them in movies, but I didn’t know they happened in real life!) Now, I’ve been to plenty of hostess parties: Mary Kay, Pampered Chef, you name it. But this was my first “naughty” party. Yes, for one night, I was a virgin again. I even got a sticker.

 

 

So because this was my first time, I was a little nervous, but it’s not like I’d never seen a vibrator before, so that part didn’t bother me. I was, however, very intimidated because aside from my friend that invited me, the house was full of complete strangers! And I don’t handle strange very well. I turn into a mouse. (I even stood in the corner. Ha!) And some of these strangers were loud. And not in the funny loud way. The obnoxious loud way. (Even before the gallons of alcohol were consumed.) But, that’s okay because they all knew each other and they were just having fun. I know I would have been the same way if it would have been ten women I knew well. I did find one familiar face in the crowd about 15 minutes after I arrived. A high school friend of my sister’s (who is 12 years older than me) so that was kinda funny to hang out and inspect sex toys with someone who hadn’t seen me since I was probably six.

 

Finally the party started and with our product lists and penis erasers, we got to look at, taste, touch, and smell a wide variety of creams, powders, oils, candles, chocolate pens, lingerie, and vibrators. (And before you ask, no you don’t taste everything! Only the edibles!) I can honestly say, I didn’t know there were so many different vibrators in existence! Who knew the wide assortment of shapes, styles, colors, and functions! It was like a candy store of female pleasure. The shopping part was done in a separate room for privacy (who wants to know what crazy shit some random chick is buying. I certainly don’t need to know.) So…I took pictures.

 

 

 

 

While I won’t share what I purchased, I will say that I tried on a corset! It was too big so I’m going to have to order one, but I was thrilled to get one step closer to my very own! (Kat, you would have been so proud!) And I’ve decided that I’m going to host a party of my own so that I can help finance the corset, cause damn they’re expensive! But the Pleasure Parties, hands down, beats any makeup, kitchen gadget, or jewelry party you could ever hope to have. I don’t think I stopped laughing the whole time I was there.

This Girl Just Wants To Have Fun

I started working on a different post, but I just couldn’t get through it. I’m all sorts of agitated right now and that frame of mind doesn’t work well for a more serious post.

 

What’s bothering me, you may be wondering. Or maybe not. I don’t know how much you care, but I’ll tell you anyway! Assuming, of course, that you are still reading by the end.

 

Aside from the everyday nonsense of keeping everyone happy (and the kids away from the dog toys) and laundry and dishes, I have extra chores to do to get things ready for “feeding night.”  (Yes, I’m still working on my snake page, but having a hell of a time getting my pictures to go where I want them to. I got so frustrated yesterday, I deleted the whole thing and will start over. Hopefully today.) Anyway, because we feed snakes tonight, there is preparation that has to be done and since I am home during the day and my husband is not, I’m the lucky one who gets to do it.

 

Then, I’m going out tonight. YAY! One of my best friends from high school is having a “hostess” party (where you go and buy stuff) and I’m super excited to get out of the house without kids or husband. Can you say freedom? I’ve haven’t gone out drinking with friends since last March and even then I was home by ten. (That sounds even worse when it’s down in black and white. You’d think I was 70 with statements like that.) It’s going to be a blast and I won’t go into details now, but I will next week. The problem is what to wear. (Sorry guys. Feel free to tune out now.) I want something fun and sorta sexy without freezing my ass off, but do you think I can find anything in my closet that matches that description? Hell no. I tried on probably half a dozen tops (which I know isn’t very many, but my complete wardrobe is pretty small.) Either they weren’t sexy or they no longer fit right! (I blame my kids for ruining my body. Well, I guess that’s not fair. They didn’t ask to be born. I guess I’ll have to blame my cheap ass for not buying new clothes.) And curse my small feet because I don’t have cute black shoes, limiting my choices even more. So after throwing a mini temper tantrum, I settled on a v-neck hoodie with a knit tee underneath. Not real sexy, but functional. I guess that’s all I can ask for anymore.

 

 

So, I don’t know. Is it acceptable? At least I’m not going to be bar hopping or anything like that because this outfit probably wouldn’t work then, but for sitting at a friend’s house, sipping cocktails (of some sort) and perusing “items,” it’s the best I could come up with. (And thanks Kat, for showing me the flattering way to pose for pictures. I took some straight on and nearly threw up.)

 

I suppose I should also mention that tomorrow marks the beginning of the NASCAR season. Are you excited yet? Yeah, me neither. I’m definitely going to watch, but part of me wants to boycott just to stick it to Brian France. It’s such a joke anymore (unless you’re a Jimmie Johnson fan) that the fun and excitement is completely gone for me. They have made some changes to the cars this year so we’ll see how that plays out. But really, until the last ten races stop being at Jimmie Johnson’s favorite tracks, can we ever expect a different outcome?  Last year I didn’t wear my “lucky” Jeff Gordon shirt because I was afraid it had turned unlucky. Maybe I’ll have to throw it on again this year and see if it helps. (Yes, I know I don’t in any way, shape, or form, affect a sporting event by what I wear, but I’m superstitious like that.)

 

I know this is kinda short, but my nerves are fried (trying clothes on is so stressful for me) and my dog keeps barking (frying my nerves even more) so before I throw my keyboard at him, I’ll  stop my rambling and just wish everyone a safe and fun weekend.

A Doll? Really?

I love the royal family. And I don’t live in the UK. Never even visited. (It’s definitely on my list of places I want to go before I die, though!) But I find the British royal family fascinating! I haven’t always been interested, but I think the death of Princess Di sparked my interest and made me aware of the royals. Especially because when I told my sister (I was the first in family to hear about Diana’s death), she was genuinely sad and affected by the news. She had watched Prince Charles and Princess Di’s wedding. (I, of course, did not as I was only about four months old. I might have been in the room though.) So, I started paying attention to what was happening with the royal family. Not obsessively or anything like that, but if I saw a headline, I would read it.

 

I started reading historical fiction about the royals. Especially King Henry VIII and all his wives. Queen Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots. The War of the Roses. I devoured novels written by Philippa Gregory, Alison Weir, and R. Garcia y Robertson. I couldn’t get enough, to the point I began wondering if maybe I had lived a past life during the reign of King Henry VIII. *shrugs* It’s fun to imagine, I guess.

 

Naturally, (or maybe it’s not natural, I don’t know) I formed a crush on Prince William. Watched the boys go from poor children who had lost their mother to the men they are today. Cringed at Prince Harry’s antics. Was proud of their military service. So when Prince William started dating and then finally got engaged to Kate Middleton, I was excited. Another royal wedding! And one I might actually get to watch! So, yes, I’ve been interested in Kate’s ring and what her dress might look like. And what the whole event will look like. But I found the below ad (I feel like The Simple Dude doing one of his catalog “Half-Assed Weekend Posts”!) and couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it’s gone too far.

 

 

A doll? Sold by the Danbury Mint? This is America right? We’re not under the British rule anymore are we? I mean, even though I love the royal family and am excited for the wedding, would not buy this. I wonder how many people are ordering it. And then if you’ll notice, you don’t even know what the dress will look like on your doll because Kate’s real dress hasn’t been revealed.

 

 

So whoever’s ordering will send in their “Advance Reservation Application” and then wait for the wedding day to arrive, wait some more for the seamstresses to create the replica gown, and wait even more for the whole doll to be assembled and sent to them. I don’t know about you, but that seems like an awful lot of waiting with a pretty hefty price tag attached to it. Is it really worth all that? I guess you really have to love the royal family. Or maybe think it’s an investment and will be worth even more someday. But what do I know?

 

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Switching subjects, I just wanted to throw a thank you out there. When I took my daughter into school this morning, the outside temperature shown on my truck read a chilly –14^o F and the school crossing guards were out braving the cold. I think they sometimes go unrecognized and are underappreciated for all that they do. I know that the crossing guards at my daughter’s school won’t see this, but those of you who are reading might remember it the next time you see someone helping others, even in uncomfortable conditions. And maybe you’ll stop and say thank you. I think I’ll make them something and leave it for them at the school. Because even though they’re not helping my child, they’re helping someone’s child, and that’s what matters.

Who Watches This Crap?

This may not be a very popular post depending on if your favorite shows turn up here, but I feel the urge to say it. So with no offense meant and hopefully a good-natured spirit, I will proceed.

Maybe a better title would be, “Why do I even let this shit bother me?” *raises hand* I may be able to answer that. I have so few things that are exciting in my life, that I love watching TV and escaping the monotony that is my everyday life. And repeatedly, I have been the victim (okay, maybe that’s too strong a word) of thoroughly enjoying a show and look forward to watching it every week, only to have to pulled off the air. With little or no warning.

I’ve got four words for you.

“Lipstick Jungle” and “the forgotten.”

I mean, hello? We’re talking about a show that has actors the likes of Brooke Shields (“Lipstick Jungle”) and Christian Slater (“the forgotten.”) Who cancels a show starring Christian effing Slater for crying out loud? And it’s not like it was a fluff show (which, I can admit “Lipstick Jungle” kind of was.) It was drama, serious, and more importantly had real life meaning to it. I can say, unashamed, I bawled after watching the first episode. The story lines throughout the show were focused on a group of volunteers who took on John and Jane Doe murder cases in order to discover the identity of the victim. Which, in turn, helped solve the cold case. The line at the end that really got me was no one should be buried without their name. It actually made me want to join a group like that. I went online and explored the website that was referred to at the end (www.namus.gov for those interested.) Then after maybe 10 or 12 episodes, it was gone. I was pissed.

Now, “Lipstick Jungle” was a special favorite of mine because I became so absorbed in the characters and everything they were going through. (Not all that unusual, however. I can get really wrapped up in books too.) But, it was a story that I had never experienced before. Big City, big careers, but most of all, close friends. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a small town, back woods farm girl. Oh wait, yes I am. Scratch that. Well, I have worked, but it’s never been a career before and to put myself into the shoes of a big movie exec or fashion designer, wow, that’s heady stuff. And yes, I have friends. But I lost the close, pick up the phone for any reason, knows my life story kind of girlfriends that these women were. (that story here.) So, as sad as it sounds, I felt a part of something when I watched. Plus I loved the scandalously gorgeous men in the show. One in particular, but I’ve already talked about that, so I won’t repeat myself.

But, I suppose good things must come to and end and I’ve had some favorites that did live long, fruitful lives. (Friends, CSI, Ghost Hunters to name the best.) I think what makes a show cancellation harder to take is the garbage that replaces it. Or just the garbage that’s on in general. It is sort of shocking all the crappy shows that are on the air and how even with a shitload of channels, you cannot find a single good thing to watch. There is a show that if I remember correctly, is in the timeslot that my beloved “the forgotten” used to occupy. And it’s the one that should have been cancelled in my opinion. But, with my head hung in shame, I will admit that it is on in my house every week because my husband likes it. So who watches this crap? Yeah, I do too. Anyway, the show is “V.” And while it was okay for a while, now it just bugs me. “Get on with it already!” (That’s me screaming at the TV.) Have the aliens attack or eat everyone or whatever they are planning to do, but just do it already. All this leading up to whatever has gotten old. (Note to self : See if the first season of “V” is on DVD for Hubby’s valentine gift.)

Then there is a show on Nick Jr that terrifies me and I cannot for the life of me understand who is watching it and why! It’s “Yo Gabba Gabba” and as soon as I see it’s going to be on, I quickly change the channel. I’ve had to sit through it only a few times, but they were eye-gougingly bad. I’m scared by clowns and this show just gets too close to that I think. For a time, I didn’t like “The Fresh Beat Band” either, but as we’ve watched it more and more, I actually think it’s pretty okay. The acting is still too over the top, but hey, it’s for kids. But the songs are great and I’ll even sing and dance along. *giggle*

But not all is lost in my TV viewing life. Because tonight a new season of “Justified” comes back on FX tonight! *cheering, clapping* So for the love of God, people, please watch it. I don’t want to have another show get cancelled. Oh AND, I saw a couple of weeks ago that the first season of Justified is out on DVD. (If only a little birdie would whisper that in my husband’s ear so that I might get it for Valentine’s Day…who am I kidding? That birdie doesn’t stand a chance. Ha-ha.)

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Now, if you’ve managed to stick around this long, what shows (still on the air; Hubby and I need some new shows to watch) do you love that you would recommend and what shows would you rather catch rats with your bare hands (or other unpalatable activity) than watch?

The Three-Way

Ha-ha. I thought that might get your attention.

 

Have you ever had an IM going with more than one person at a time? It’s tricky. Hell, it’s tricky chatting with one person because you can both be typing at the same time and one of you could be continuing the conversation while the other person has switched subjects. Imagine doing that face to face. You’d both be talking at the same time and then only after you were finished talking would you stop and think about what the other person had said. Doesn’t work so good.

 

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Well, I had an experience a while back of someone I’m almost positive was chatting with me and someone else at the same time.

 

I was on Facebook and a dear person to me came online and a chat window popped up. Someone from my high school days. I won’t even try to explain what our relationship was because I can’t even figure it out. But suffice it to say, I still think he’s great so I don’t hold any of this against him. (And if he’s reading this, I hope he won’t hold this against me.)

 

We were chatting and I asked what his plans were for the weekend. He told me he had his son so they might try to catch a movie. I said I thought that sounded fun. I asked what he was thinking about seeing. He replied he hadn’t looked to see what was playing and that he’d better do that if they were going to go. I say something incredibly witty (not really, but it’s fun to pretend!) about how he’d hate to show up at the theater with his kid (who’s like five or six) and not have there be anything age appropriate. Time passes and he doesn’t say anything. Okay, no biggie. (I guess.) I continue playing my game.

 

Then he types something along the lines of if he were free to do anything tonight, but it cut off mid-thought. I looked at it for a while and wasn’t sure how to respond. I quickly came to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t meant for me, but that he was talking to someone else. More time passes and he doesn’t say anything so I start getting paranoid that maybe it was said to me and I’m being rude for not responding. Finally, he types something kinda like what he had started saying, but morphed it into even if he could do anything tonight, he wouldn’t know what to do. I could just picture him, seeing what he typed on my chat window and frantically trying to cover his tracks. You know, trying to play it cool and make it seem like he’s only talking to me.

 

But I saw through the act. And I laughed. All he would have had to do was say, "’Oops! I meant to say that to Steve or Justin or Mark (or whoever!) Sorry.’ and it wouldn’t have turned into this story. That’s what I would have done. Laughed at my stupidity and carried on. Doesn’t that make more sense? Isn’t that what you would have done? But instead, he tried to make it seem like I was the only thing he was focused on. But I’ve never been the only thing he focused on. Why would it be any different now when our lives have gone in such different directions?

 

But, honestly, how many of us focus on only one thing anymore? I know I don’t. Not even when it comes to my kids. There’s just too much happening everyday to give everything your undivided attention. While I’m writing this, I’ve been answering about a hundred emails from people because I have a meeting tonight and we’re all trying to get ready for it. I’m also putting together my report for said meeting, I have laundry that needs to go into the dryer and clothes that need to come out of the dryer to be folded. And grrr, another load that needs to go in the washer. Piss. Thank God the little guy is sleeping right now or I would be tearing my hair out. And then my husband would get mad because, for some reason, he likes my long hair. And he would blame my blog for taking up so much of my time. Well, my blog and PTA for taking up so much of my time. But he wouldn’t care that I lost a bunch of time this morning at the Y working out. Nope. Because the Y is his “insurance policy” that I stay thin. He actually called it that once. I don’t mind I guess, because in some way he’s right. (It did sting a little at first, but  I’m over it now. I like going to the Y. So far.)

 

Whoa, that went farther off track than I thought. I think I’ve had enough coffee for today, thanks.

 

I’ll just leave it at this. Three-ways can be a tough act to pull off. Even if it’s just online.

 

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Conversations With A Three Year Old

Talking with any child can produce any number of wild things coming out of their mouths, but depending on age and speech skills it can be especially frustrating entertaining. I am lucky (or unlucky depending on how you look at it) to have two children that have possessed good speech and good vocabulary from a very young age. That does not mean sometimes there are language barriers than pop up from time to time.

 

Case in point: Bedtime for my three year old.

 

For over a year (maybe closer to two), we have played a CD for my son to fall asleep to because he has always been a light sleeper and we hoped that the music would cover up any noises coming from the rest of the house. (We also used to turn a fan on, but with it being winter, we don’t want him to get too cold.) He’s in a “big boy bed” now, so sometimes getting him to stay in bed at night is a challenge. Okay, I’m lying. It’s always a challenge. But one night last week, we tucked him in, read his book, and turned his music on. We said goodnight and walked out of his room. After a number of times of him running out and me taking him back into his bed, he comes running out telling me that his music shut off. I ask, “Did you turn the music off?” He says no. Okay, then, back into bed. Music back on. Not long later, he comes out again telling me his music turned off. And again I ask, “Did you turn your music off.” (Now I’m running out of patience.) He says yes so I tell him no more music. (My husband finds this whole scenario hilarious because he sees it as our son conning me into more awake-time. It’s also funny to him because he gets to watch it play out instead of living it, but I’ll just leave that alone.) The little man finally falls asleep and the music stays off.

 

The next day at naptime, I didn’t even bother with the music, but that evening, I turned it on in hopes that I could get some things done before having to pretend to go to sleep (which so far has been the only surefire way of getting him to go to sleep because he thinks everyone else is sleeping too.) No luck; he came out telling me the music was off. Well, I wasn’t going to fall for his tricks and the CD player stayed off. The next day at naptime, however, he really wanted his music playing, so geez, okay we’ll turn it on. I hear him come barreling out of his room so I stop him in the hallway and tell him to get back in bed.

 

3 year old: Music turned off!

Me: Did you turn it off?

3 year old: No.

Me: How did it turn off?

3 year old: I don’t know. (He says this really cute too, so it’s hard to keep a straight face.)

Me: Did you turn it off?

3 year old: No, he did.

Me (alarmed): Who did?

3 year old: Music.

Me: I know your music turned off. Did you turn it off?

3 year old: No, he did.

Me: …

Me (really starting to have internal panic attacks but also feeling like I’m in the middle of a “Who’s on first?” joke): Who did?! Who’s he? 

 

Now, let me interrupt briefly to explain that I don’t have any reason to believe our house is actually haunted or anything like that. On occasion I will think I see something out of the corner of my eye, but it’s usually just a stray piece of hair that’s either not doing what it is supposed to do (by laying flat and pretty) or it got stuck on my glasses (on those days I can’t work up the motivation to put my contacts in) and is messing with my peripheral vision. My father-in-law did pass away six months before my husband and I got married, but I doubt he’s taken up residence here. And to top it off, our house is new and we’ve been the only ones living here. (I do think it would be cool to have a haunted house. I used to live in a haunted house, but that’s a different story altogether.)

 

3 year old: Music.

Me (doing deep breathing exercises to keep from showing my irritation): Did you turn your music off.

3 year old: I don’t know. Just turned off.

 

So, while still kinda freaked out, I kept thinking it was probably just him turning it off. We left it off and I tucked him back in bed.

 

I had pretty much decided we were going to be done with the music until my son again insisted that he wanted it on. We turned it on and I was in and out of his room about a million times because he really did not want to take a nap. One of the times I was trying to get him to lay down and close his eyes, the music stopped. I take the disc out thinking there is a scratch or something on it. So I examine it, wipe it off (even though I don’t see anything on it) and try it again. No good. Stops again. Hmmm….I removed the entire CD player from his room so I could look at it later.  Still, he wasn’t going to sleep and I was at my wit’s end. My husband (who was still at home during all of this because of the weather and road conditions) said to me, “If you turn his music on, it might help him fall asleep faster.” I practically bit his head off telling him it turned off while I was in there and I brought it out to look at as soon as he gives me five solid minutes to finish working on what I was doing. (Which was writing this…took way more than the five minutes I asked for. *giggle*) My husband messed around with the CD player for a minute and took it back into my son’s room.

 

Now it seems fine. I hate when he makes it look easy.

 

A second example:

 

Me: Okay buddy, time to put the game away and go night night.

3 year old: No.

Me: Yep. Here we go. (as I pick him up and carry him on my hip to where his game charger is plugged in.)

Me: Did you go pee-pee in your unders?

3 year old: No.

Me: Why do they feel warm?

3 year old: I don’t know.

Me: Okay.

 

We put the game on the charger and I carry him back to his room to get him into his “nighttime” diaper. I lay him down and look at my shirt.

It’s wet.

 

Me: You went pee-pee in your unders!

3 year old: Yeah. (In a tone of voice like ‘you hadn’t figured that out by now?’)

Me: That’s naughty! My shirt’s all wet now.

3 year old: It’s wet?

Me: Yes! With pee-pee! That’s yucky!

 

Now today, I just finished 30 minutes of playing “puppy” with my son.

 

3 year old: Fetch it mommy puppy!

I go get it and bring it back to him.

3 year old: In your mouth mommy.

Me: Mommy’s not putting that in her mouth, honey.

 

*sigh* What we don’t do for our kids.

Snakes On A Plane…No, Not Like The Movie!

I promised that I would do a post explaining more about our family’s snakes. I know some of you are probably freaked out that we have them. I get that all the time. My mother-in-law is actually horrified. (That almost makes me like them more!) I’ve had a lot of people, in jest (or not; it’s sometimes hard to tell because they want it to sound like they’re kidding when they’re not. I know I’ve read a blog post about that.) Okay. Sorry. I get sidetracked a lot. Anyway, I’ve had a lot of people tell me, ‘Whoa, I don’t think I’m coming to your house anymore!’ It’s okay. (I don’t like having visitors that much anyway. No! I’m just kidding!) I understand your fears. I was pretty terrified and grossed out by them before we got them. And truthfully, even after we got the first few.

 

I’ll back up a little to explain how we got started. Before I met my husband, he shared an apartment with some guy that had a snake (or snakes, plural, I’m not sure which.) Hubby thought they were cool so he got some. Lots of different ones. He had your standard ball pythons, but he also had boa constrictors, blood pythons, a sand boa and borneos. (His mother has many horror stories of his snakes from the apartment, but I finally learned that she never went into his apartment after he got them, so I think she’s just trying to scare me. I’d heard the actual course of events from Hubby before her renditions.) When he built his first house and moved into it, he sold his snake collection.

 

About three years ago we started having trouble with our daughter’s behavior. She was talking too much in class and not being a good listener here at home for us. It was going downhill in a hurry. The summer in between her 2nd and 3rd grade years, Hubby suggested we find a family hobby. Something we can all do together and have fun with. And naturally, he already had snakes in mind. At first I said no way, snakes are gross. He continued talking about it and telling me all the different color and pattern morphs, or genetic differences, among ball pythons. He talked about how people buy and sell them all over the world, sometimes for a a lot of money.

 

I came around and we started with two ball pythons that were 100% het albino. (Meaning they carried the gene for albino.) I’ll never forget the night Hubby brought them home. He had gone to a breeder in a neighboring state and bought them. He got one out of the container it was in to show me before he put it in it’s cage. He kept walking closer to me and I kept walking backwards until he had me pressed up against the cabinets and I couldn’t go back any further. He held it there in front of me and while I didn’t touch it, I could see it wasn’t going to jump on me and try to eat me.

 

After a while of being around them and watching them and finally handling them, I gave Hubby the go ahead to get more. And it exploded from there. Now we’re hovering right around 60, although we have been up as high as 70-75. We go to a reptile show in a suburb of Chicago every year and have had snakes shipped to us (they get overnighted on planes and delivered FedEx or UPS) from different parts of the country. (Although we get the majority from breeders within driving distance, even if that means driving 7 hours one way.)

 

We still have just ball pythons, but Hubby has made noises about wanting different species. I’m not ready for that though. Oh, and Kat mentioned what they eat. Yes, most of them eat rats, but we have a few picky ones that will only eat mice. We try to have our snakes eat rats that have been frozen (which we then warm up to an appropriate temperature), but again there are some that are just too finicky and will only eat live. So, we do have a few small cages with live rats or mice too. That’s probably the worst part about having the snakes.

 

I no longer worry about them hurting me or anything like that. They have teeth similar to fish; like bumpy cartilage or something. Hubby has gotten bit a few times, but wears it almost like a badge of honor. I think he feels more manly when it happens or something. The bigger ones of course, pack a little more power when they bite, but I don’t think they would ever do serious damage. About the worst time was one of our bigger females mistook Hubby’s hand for a rat and tagged him. He had some blood run down his arm, but the next day, you could barely see where the marks had been. The big ones don’t bite very often though. The little ones can be pretty nippy, but they’re so small, you hardly notice. I got bit once by a hatchling and I actually asked the snake, “Did you just bite me?!” because it happened so fast, I wasn’t sure.

 

We hatch whatever eggs we get each year in incubators and sell the babies once they have hatched. Sometimes we sell through forums and our website and other times we sell to other breeders we know. Occasionally, we will sell the less valuable ones to pet stores, but we try to sell to the customer directly. I’ve included some pictures of a few in our collection.

 

Piebald

 

Bumblebee

 

Genetic Stripe

 

Lesser

An Award That Has Turned Into It’s Own Post

First, I must start off by saying thank you, thank you, thank you to Kat at Tapetum Lucidum for giving me an award! My first award! I’m speechless! She’s an amazing woman who deserves to get this award right back!

 

 

It’s quite frankly amazing that I am able to put two coherent thoughts together amidst the constant calls of “Mama!” and the chaos that is my household. But even more amazing to me is that other people enjoy reading what I have to say!

 

So the rules of the award say that I am supposed to:

 

1. Thank and link back to the person who awarded you this award
2. Share 7 things about yourself
3. Award 10 recently discovered great bloggers
4. Contact these bloggers and tell them about the award!

 

I don’t know what 7 things to share because I don’t know what’s interesting or different about me and well, I don’t want to bore you. So I’ll list a few and if there is anything else you’d like to know, just ask in the comments section and I’ll do my best to answer. Sound cool?

 

1. I am a huge Jeff Gordon and NASCAR fan and have been since 1993. I even got to meet him as an 8th grade graduation present from my sister’s father-in-law.
2. I love watching the UFC.
3. I am the youngest of 4 kids by ten years. (I was a surprise, not an accident as my mom once told me.) So it was kinda like being an only child with two dads and three moms.
4. My husband and I have a snake breeding facility.
5. You can find more info about me here and here. If you’re still wanting to know more about me, feel free to ask away.

 

I haven’t been blogging very long, but I have found some really great blogs that I love reading. I’m sure they’ve all been handed awards before, but they deserve it again!

 

Jewels at Turning 30: A Journey of Self Exploration She was my first follower and I love reading her funny stories. And she’s been sick so stop over and give her some blog love.

 

Paul at "I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference" He’s a great guy who helps me look at the positive side of life. He also shares great stories about his life or that he’s written.

 

Kev D at Highway 10 Revisited He’s got a cool looking blog filled with great writing, humor and life.

 

SherilinR at laughing my abs off She’s a mom who has great mom stories and keeps me laughing about the things that kids (and husbands) do.

 

Mrs. Hyde at A Bitch Called Mom She tells it like it is and makes me bust out laughing every time! (I mean, we’re talking tears rolling down my face laughing!)

 

Megan at Loving the little things Another sweet mom who loves to share recipes, pictures of her family and fun stories about her days.

 

I know that’s not 10, but hey, I’m still new here.

 

I was planning on writing more, but this has already taken much of my morning and I’ve got a husband, son, dog, dishes and laundry that are all calling out for my undivided attention. I wonder how I’m gonna make that work???