awesome friends

Been going through all my posts, adding titles and gathering some graphics to add to make them more fun ...

And I came across this. 

One of my friends is a yoga chick.  She teaches, and basically makes her body do things that makes my body cringe in horror.

So, naturally, when I saw this picture I thought of her.  And I just kept seeing it in the magazine.  And I realized that the expression on this chick's face was just creepy given that it was a tampon add.

See:

 

 

So, naturally, she sends me this in response ... because she is AWESOME:

 

 

She even threw in a tampon box to make it authentic.

 

Love her.



The draft that has been sitting there for two years, so i decided what the hell ... it's totally outdated and still oddly the same. You're welcome.

I sat outside on the ground the other day for almost 45 minutes, closely examining the grass, dead leaves, clovers, moss, and other things that were there. I did this with my kid, and I was amazed at his curiosity at discovering nature. It was pretty cool.

Of course, the ass of my pants was damp and covered in bits of nature when I got up, and my knees were stiff, but it was worth it. And the Minion was just as happy as can be. He is definitely gonna be an outside Minion, and that is a good thing.
 

I am so tired of hearing about politics. I know I should be paying attention and all that, but I tune it out after about ten seconds. Which is pretty much when all the asshats start chiming in with their two cents. It amazes me that people can believe the stupid shit that they believe. And that they can convince other people that it's true.

Government isn't about the people anymore. It's about big corporations that make campaign donations and lobbyists with special agendas. I would like to see our legislators vote based on what's actually good for the people instead of based on what favors they owe or what side project they are trying to slide through. It just disgusts me, so I tune it out.

POF is fascinated. He flips between Fox News, CNN and HLN to watch the different takes on whatever current event is happening. And it is laughable sometimes. The spin that Fox puts on things can be hilarious, and a little scary.

I didn't check to see, but I hope Rush is packing his bags. He promised he would. It's only right he follow through. Of course, he'd probably end up somewhere like St. Barts or something ridiculous like that.

I've been doing well with the whole treadmill thing. Almost every day for a couple of weeks now. But today I am not feeling it. I am so tired for some reason. I even laid down and took a nap with the Minion this morning. And I could still sleep.

I am ready for Spring. I am not a yard work kind of girl, but I am ready to get out in my back yard and make it pretty again. Maybe we might even do minimal effort in the front. We keep it kinda scraggly up there. POF's theory is that if it looks too nice in front, people will think we have nice stuff and want to break in. Probably another example of his crazy logic, but since I typically loathe yard work, I go with it. And for once, it actually does make sense.

I am tempted to delete this whole post cause it's boring and blah. But I am blah today, so it stands. I will try to think of something funny for next time. The Queen Mother does read this, so I can't tell some stories. She might know about some, but I don't think she needs to know about all my exploits as

Edit:  2/6/14:  See ... I just left right off there with no closing or nothin.  I will add this, because it amuses me:

 

Clean socks, lots of tears, and a touching parental moment

Raising a kid is hard.  Watching them grow and learn is amazing.  It’s also gut-wrenching.

This morning was one of those moments where I questioned my parenting skills, my sanity, The Minion’s sanity, and a found myself in the bathroom, blow drying my hair and crying.

It started with a pair of socks.

The Minion has a thing about socks.  He absolutely refuses to put on a clean pair each day.  He’s small, and not too terribly stinky for the most part, so I usually don’t fight him on it.  He will wear them a couple of days and then be fine with changing.  But not this morning.

Wednesdays are a late night for us.  We go to the Y after work and I walk and then we swim.  Last night we also had to hit the grocery store afterward, so it was after 8 when we got home, close to 9 by the time he inhaled two bowls of gorgonzola chicken pasta.  It was a late night, and I knew he would be tired and cranky today.  I just wasn’t expecting this particular level of rage.

Imagine little (almost) 5 year old Bruce Banner.  Mild-mannered, shy, sweet boy.  Usually busy conducting some sort of experiment that could change the world.  But then, suddenly, something triggers that temper, and he becomes a little green lump of RAGE.

That was my house this morning.  And while The Minion was RAGE, he didn’t exactly understand why.

So, it started with socks.  And then came the temper tantrum.  The yelling, the crying, the refusal to get dressed.  The demanding that I go away, not to even be in the same room with him.  He was so MAD AT ME.  But he didn’t know why.  Not really.

And this is where it gets hard.  Because (almost) 5 year olds have a LOT going on.  They are learning and developing and exploring all kinds of new feelings and emotions.  And while they might be starting to understand what some of the more complex emotions look like, they really don’t have a handle on what they feel like when they happen.  So, we basically operate on happy and mad.  Considering his father pretty much existed on these two emotions for his first 30 years, I am at least fairly well equipped to deal.

But he’s so small.  And so upset.  And it breaks my little black heart into a million pieces.  And usually, I cry.  I try to go in another room and have a few tears and be done, because it does upset him when I am upset.  But today, I cried.  I sat there on the edge of his bed, while he was smooshed into the corner farthest away from me, screaming at me to LEAVE HIM ALONE. 

I told him I couldn’t.  He knew what was coming and said he did NOT want me to hold him.  Didn’t even want me in the room.  Demanded I leave.  So, I asked if he would get dressed if I left.  And when he said no, I told him that if he wasn’t getting dressed, then I had no reason to leave.  And he screeched at me.  And I cried.  Because he was just so tortured in that moment.  All anger and not knowing exactly why.

I had already popped his butt once for throwing his clothes at me with a screamed no, so I decided to try a different tactic. I waited a minute, and I asked him if he was still mad at me.  He said yes.  So I asked why.  At first he couldn’t answer.  Then he finally said that it was because he didn’t’ get enough sleep.  So I clarified and said, “So, you really aren’t mad at me, you are just tired and cranky and don’t know how else to show it?”  And he said yes.

I asked him if screaming made him feel better.  He didn’t answer.  But he did make eye contact.  So I told him to go ahead, scream the mad out.  Nothing.  So I asked again if he felt better after yelling.  He shook his head no.  I asked him what he thought might make him feel better if yelling didn’t help.  He was looking down, silent.  Then, very quietly, he said, “You have to tickle me.  That will make me feel better.”

And let me tell you, in that moment, I cried big huge tears.  And he patted my head and I tickled him, first in just one spot.  Then, at his insistence, all over just to be sure it worked.  And it was all better.  Just like that.

I told him I had to finish getting ready and asked if he was ready to get dressed.  He nodded. I left to go brush my teeth and dry my hair.  And that’s how I ended up sobbing into my hair dryer at 8 AM.  But they were tears of relief.  I made it through.  It was an emotionally tense half hour.  My nerves were a bit frayed.  But I was able to help him work it out, to help him recognize his feeling and talk them through so that he felt better.  I felt like I’d just won the Super Bowl.

Two minutes later, he’s racing into the bathroom fully dressed, shoes on, frantically chewing his waffle.  And asking if he could play a game on the tablet in the car on the way to school.  Like nothing happened.  The Tiny Hulk of Rage was gone, and there was my sweet boy once again.

I know it will happen again in the future.  I know I will be frustrated and exasperated and aggravated.  But I also know that we can work through it.  Maybe next time I will be able to watch with a little more wonder and a little less anxiety.  Because seeing that little brain that I had a hand in creating actually make connections and figure stuff out is pretty damn amazing.  Stressful on this mama’s heart, but amazing to behold.

The trials and tribulations of Motherhood ...aka, is my kid already too screwed up, or am I actually doing this right?

I had a beautiful blog entry in my head this morning as I showered, and now I have no idea what it was going to be.  So, here's what popped out instead.


The Minion will latch onto something and be pretty much obsessed for days, possibly a couple of weeks.  It can be a TV show or a food, it varies.  Currently he's obsessed with hot dogs.  He wants them for every meal.  I do not allow that, of course, but I will admit to a larger than normal hot dog consumption for the past couple of weeks.  I am hoping the phase passes soon, and saw a glimmer of hope this morning when he again requested a boiled egg.

I do have to limit him, even on the healthy stuff.  Four bananas in one day is just too many bananas for anyone, much less a pre-schooler.  But he's off bananas for the moment and on to other things.  Like boiled eggs ... which, were does he even get that from?  I like boiled eggs, but it's not something that I cook a lot of, unless I am making egg salad or potato salad or something like that.  Odd.

We had a kiwi kick a couple of weeks ago, and it was kiwi for just about every meal.  Before that it was Colby-Jack cheese and red grapes.  Now he no longer likes red grapes, only green.  It's hard to keep up sometimes.  He will eat a block of cheese all day long, but won't touch a grilled cheese sandwich.  He loves chili but would rather gnaw off his own arm than eat a helping of pinto beans (or any other bean for that matter, besides green beans).

I made a pot of 15 Bean Stew over the weekend.  LOTS of beans, mixed veggies, tomatoes, diced onion and turkey smoked sausage.  Any of these things alone would get an outright refusal.  But he ate a bowl and liked it.  Even asked for it for lunch today.  It baffles me.

He's also obsessed with The Power Rangers and wants to watch it ALL THE TIME.  I can deal with an episode or two, but then I need a break.  It never fails though, if he gets TV time, and you ask him what he wants to watch, he's gonna say Power Rangers.  Not only that, but he wants specific episodes.  On Demand is a beautiful thing ... until they take an episode down.  Then all hell breaks loose.

This morning, he randomly recited the entire Pledge of Allegiance.  I had no idea he even knew it existed, and here he is, reeling it off like it's old hat.  A few weeks ago, we were at the store and he pointed out some book or package (I don't remember exactly what it was) that had a silhouette of the Statue of Liberty on it and said, "Look, Mama, it's the Statue of Liberty!"  I am pretty sure that I had no idea it even existed when I was his age.  He alternately impresses me and terrifies me with all the things he knows.  One morning on the way to school he lectured me about cumulonimbus clouds.  WTF?  I still don't know what that is.  He knows more about Star Wars than I do.  Yet he still confuses tomato and potato, and has trouble with yesterday and tomorrow.  It's a strange age.

Some days he will dress himself alone and be so well coordinated it's frightening.  Other times he will insist on fixing himself his own food and somehow manage to have a pretty well balanced meal, even taking into consideration that it involves some sort of gummy or chocolate.  He desperately wants to slice fruits and veggies and help me cook.  He is fascinated by the task of doing laundry.  Then, the next day he suddenly can't possibly get dressed without my help.  Can't even put on a shoe.  This mix of being so grown up and yet still so much the baby is a constant source of anxiety for me.  Because I want him to be independent and self-sufficient, yet I still just can't quite let go of my baby that I want to cuddle and dress and rock and all that.  Obviously he is struggling with the transition as well, and it's a huge learning curve to master.

Often, I just watch him and can't believe that this little person who is so well defined and so ... precise ... came from me.  He has gestures that are 100% his daddy and they must be ingrained on his DNA or something.  The stuff he says and does just blows me away.  He is the coolest kid ever.

And then other days I watch him and wonder, is that normal?  Is he TOO obsessive about that?  Is
it typical for a kid his age to say or do that particular thing?  I worry that there is something going on that I am dismissing, and conversely, nothing there at all that I am trying to turn into an issue.  Everyone is so quick to label a kid with some sort of disorder these days.  There are times when I can't decide if I am just being too paranoid and a product of that tendency to label everything that we seem to have in today's society.  Can a kid just be kinda hyper sometimes, or does he have to have some sort of ADHD disorder?  If I am missing something, will he suffer later in life?  If I am trying to over diagnose normal behavior and make it a problem, will that screw him up too?  It's a constant struggle that I try to keep to myself.

Added to that, he loves me most.  He practically lives attached to my hip.  If I am walking, he's right up under me.  If I am sitting, he's right on top of me.  He sleeps with me.  He wants me in his sight at all times.  When I do something without him, some alone time, he just cannot stand it.  He does not want me to have alone time.  He wants me to have Minion time.  It's the sweetest thing ever, and it makes me crazy.

Yet he listens to nothing I say or ask.  I realize that's not a big deal really, not now.  I guess I should really say that he listens to me fine most of the time, just not when I really want it to.  I mean, it's not like he's running out into traffic or anything like that.  It's mainly when we are in a situation where I just really want him to be the bestest boy, the perfect sweet angel.  One of those, please don't let the general public, or this specific person, see what a crazy heathen he can be.  He spends time with my Mom and he is a complete angel.  I walk in the door and he turns into psycho child, bouncing off the walls, not listening, being crazy wild.  I think he does it just to make my mom nuts because he knows that it bothers her.  I go between wanting to crack down and be militaristic mom to just saying screw it and letting him go.  I have yet to find a happy medium.  Which probably doesn't help the situation.

I alternate between two states:

Wanting to have him involved in ten different activities so that he is active and involved and a part of something.  So that he grows up doing stuff and trying new things and just having a fun adventurous childhood

Wanting to spend every spare moment cuddled on the couch watching a movie and reading a book and watching him play with his Star Wars figures.  Keeping him mine, all mine, for as long as I can, just being amazed at him and all his cuteness.

Some days I feel like I balance it pretty well.  Other times I feel like I am failing miserably.  I want him to grow up and go out on his own and experience the world.  But I want him to stay with me forever and always need his Mama.  I suppose every parent feels that.  I would assume.  How could you not?

Now it's time to get ready to register for kindergarten, to prepare to send him to the big school with the big kids and the big work.  And I am just not ready.  I can't wait to see what he does when he gets there.  New friends, new skills.  But wow.  I can't even type this without crying.  I used to laugh at those silly women who cried when talking about first days of school, first milestones, first events.  And now, I am one.  Now it's not so silly.  Now it's monumental and overwhelming and I want to freeze time here for just a little bit longer.

Minion art:

Not sure what the black and red blobs are ... possibly the knife and dripping blood from the latest enemy I have skewered.  Also, he says the other small thing is a baby ... wishful thinking on his part, though we are trying.

yep, liberal roots still showing. other than that, there's stuff. some might even be interesting to others

Now that I am all on FB and being fancy, I feel pressure to write something amusing, to entertain the Internets.

And I am failing miserably.  I have nothing to say.  Total blank.  This does not please me.

I could go all political and launch another tirade about legalizing pot or same sex marriage or stupid wingnut politicians ... been there, done that.  It's pretty safe to say, you know my stance.  Just to clarify though:

Legalize and tax that shit = solving debt problems, support munchie food production.  Also, pretty sure alcohol causes much more damage daily, and it's still legal, so get over it already.

If gay people are ruining the sanctity of marriage, then I fully expect no more divorces, ever.  No cheating scandals.  No domestic violence.  Nothing but marital freaking bliss around the globe.  Because people are shitty everywhere.  Marriages are trashed daily.  Man, woman, doesn't matter.  Love is love and all that crap.  Also, since a lot of the people that were around when the Bible was written had multiple wives and slaves and shit, I really don't think you can go with that whole "one man and one woman" nonsense.

And let's not get me started on politics.  Just thinking of it makes my eye twitch.  Separation of church and state.  and I will leave it at that.

So, yeah.  That's me. Still the same.  Imagine that.

I am trying to be more healthy and work exercise back into my life.  My clothes just keep getting smaller and at this rate I will be forced to just go buy bolts of fabric and drape it around me like some sort of mu-mu if I don't get more proactive.

It's been over a year that our house has been dog free.  I miss those little buggers like you can't believe.  But it has been so nice, after 15 years, to have freedom to go and do - and not have to worry about rushing home to take care of a pet.  I want a critter.  The Minion wants a critter.  Even POF wants a critter.  But with our work schedules right now, it just wouldn't be fair.  I can't bring a new pet into our family and leave it alone for 10-12 hours a day.  It's just not right.  So, for now, no pets.  I am both sad and relieved.

My mother is having her house remodeled.  She told me in passing, several weeks ago, that she dreamed that after her work was done, she just sent the contractor down and had him do mine.  Oh, if only.  Now, it's in my head.  I find myself regularly making mental lists of all the things I would do if I could.  The most important, the must haves, the wishful thinking.  And now, after years of not being able to imagine it at all, I can see it.  I can see the vision clearly in my head of what I would have, what I would want.  And it is killing me.  Because it's not going to happen.  At least not anytime soon. 

We are still trying to get ourselves back on track.  Pay off bills and dig ourselves out of credit card and student load debt.  A remodel is not in the cards.  I want it.  Desperately.  But the fact is, if someone handed me $50k tomorrow and said, "Go! Remodel!".  I would probably take that money and turn it right around and pay off the credit card and student loans.  And then, with the little bit that was left, I would pay a chunk of the principal on our existing mortgage.  Cause I am crazy like that.

I keep waiting for that long lost rich relative to die and leave me millions.  Or for that Powerball number to come up in my favor.  But ... I have no secret rich relatives (Ancestry.com has seen to that), and I have to play to win.  To date, I have never purchased a Powerball ticket.  Sigh.  And honestly, I don't want to be rich.  I just want my bills paid and enough money that if I need a new A/C unit, or a new fridge, or something like that, I can get it.  Without having to worry that it will bankrupt me. 

I know I am not alone in those thoughts.  And I also know that I am so very fortunate to have so much more than so many others.  So I try to keep my thoughts in check, my dreams in perspective, my wants under control.  I have a roof over my head, a car to drive, a job to go to, food on my table, healthy family.  I am blessed.

I am also pissed off that I am not a descendant of the Vanderbilt family.  Seriously.  Have you seen Biltmore?  I want to live there.  Just in the library.

Also, POF is very anti cat.  To amuse myself, I occasionally mention that maybe we should get a cat.  The trauma this creates amuses me to no end.  He will shudder.  And retch.  And cringe.  It fills my little black heart with evil glee to do it.  I know I am kidding.  I am not sure that he knows I am kidding.  You think by now he would realize I just say it to get a rise out of him.  If I REALLY want to make him crazy, after mentioning cats, I suggest we get a bird.  Heh.  Chaos ensues. 

See?  Nothing to say, and plenty said.  I amaze myself.  Also, I should be working.  This is quality abuse of company time, right here.  Shhhhhhh ... don't tell.  (Not that it would matter.  I will end up ratting myself out to the boss, like I usually do.  I have Catholic guilt.  And I am not even Catholic)

Time to earn my pay.

QoE has invaded FB ... gird your loins!

https://www.facebook.com/?ref=tn_tnmn

so, because I am basically technologically ignorant, here's me.  on facebook.  all fancy and shit.  like it.  share it. 

maybe I will even write something new soon so it actually serves a purpose.

Workplace Shenanigans

I generally try to avoid putting much stuff about work on here, because, let's face it, we try to present some sort of almost professional façade to the people we deal with.  If they knew the truth about the ridiculous things that happen here, we'd be screwed.  But, this little email exchange with one of the guy's wives was just too awesome not to share.

Said co-worker has been complaining about this hideous place on his back for weeks now.  It could be nothing, it could be life threatening ... he's taking the ignore it and hope it goes away approach.  But he always mentions it when he thinks about it.  Thus the following email exchange took place this morning:

 
Me:     Your husband has a festering wound on his right shoulder blade area.  Possibly a
           spider bite.  It's been there for like 3 weeks now, and it's not going away.  He
           forgets to say something to you every day, but is now harboring resentment that
           you haven't somehow magically cured it.  Because he's an idiot.

           So, if you think about it this weekend, take a look at it, possibly poke at it with

           something sharp and pain causing, and then slap some Neosporin on that bad boy. 

           Otherwise I might have to resort to office surgery … and I have been dying to try

           that for YEARS.

Co-Worker's Wife:     Ha! Feel free to perform sugery.

Me:     Best news I've had all week! I have been begging for someone to allow me to
          perform home surgery for over a decade.

          And when someone complains of any type of pain or sickness, I've always offered
          to kick them in the knee to make them forget about it ... I've had no takers there
          either.

          This is exciting.  I figure years of hospital and serial killer shows should have me
          well prepared for any procedure necessary.


Co-Worker's Wife:     nice! friday afternoon in house surgery - i love it. let me know if i
                                should bring whiskey to ease the pain before you operate.



This was followed by a message to my co-worker on our interoffice messenger program:

(10:12) Me: your wife just volunteered to bring whiskey to use as anesthesia for surgery this afternoon.  i like her.
(10:18) Co-Worker: tell her not to use my stash

Seriously, most entertaining workplace ever. Happy Friday!