Wednesday, April 30, 2008
I still don't know what to think. I've probably watched one too many conspiracy movies, read one too many conspiracy books, and have an overly active imagination. But when Not the Momma and I talked a bit about it the other day, I knew nothing of this whole "North American Union." or the SPP (Security and Prosperity Partnership of North America). I still think there is a lot of fact behind the whole conspiracy theory. The fact that there is a crazy conspiracy theory that is debunking a lot of the real stuff is a bit unsettling, because people will dismiss the whole thing as false, rather than looking into the facts, and the truth.
The SPP is real. It is REAL.
From their Myth/Fact website:
Myth: The SPP is being undertaken without the knowledge of the U.S. Congress.
Fact: U.S. agencies involved with SPP regularly update and consult with members of Congress on our efforts and plans.
So, they talk to congress about what they're doing, but Congress doesn't necessarily help make or change or have authority over the decisions? I mean, just because I "update and consult" with my husband about things I want to do doesn't mean I'm asking permission, or that if he disagrees that I am bound to that decision. It's just a bit eerie. Mostly, because I don't know enough about our government and how it's run. That 9th grade 'government' class was a joke. The teacher was terrible, so full of himself that he could barely speak to us at a 9th grade level, let alone actually teach us about the real government.
Because I value my husband's career, (because he's the one who has one that brings in enough money to -- feed, clothe, house, and keep us in our TVs and Wiis), I will probably make this the last post about governmental conspiracies, and politics. For now.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
And that brings me to an escape. I prayed and asked for help, gave the Lord my troubles. I feel better, and I'm pretty sure, it's because he sent me here:
Because the Lord knows me. And He knows that sometimes I need a mindless escape so that I can put things back into perspective. This is perfect. I love racing against myself. A. Lot. I found how people are cheating and getting 211 wpm (copy and paste, the jerks!), but doesn't matter. I hit 123 wpm.
So, think of that link as last week's edition of Friday Fun. I know, I forgot about it. That's okay though.
I'm still a bit worried, but for now, I'm typeracing away (while praying)... and calming myself down.
I'm still serious about what all of this means. Not the Momma and I discussed it a bit -- and he recalled a TV show that we started watching... Jericho... Now the conspiracy theorist in me wants to know the REAL reason that show was cancelled -- was it because it was a little 'too close to home?' And I'm not talking about the whole 9/11 plot, bombs, whatever. I'm talking about the whole Jennings and Rall thing... MMM HMMM.. That's what I thought...
Oh, and If I suddenly stop posting now, it's because they've found me and have killed me for exposing their secret plan. Ha ha. I'm kidding. Sortof. I think.
Back to http://play.typeracer.com/ *Wayne's world segue starts NOW! doodalee doo doodalee doo*
I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth. I take that back. Not a little... A LOT. A WHOLE LOT!
Did we vote for this? Did Congress? WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE LORD IS GOING ON HERE????
North Carolina's Drivers License is "North American Union Ready!
The first "North American Union" driver's license, complete with a hologram of the continent on the reverse, has been created in North Carolina.
Did we vote on this? Did "we the people" have any say in this? Is this what 'we the people' want? Seriously? We DID!? Is this just some crazy half cocked conspiracy theory?? Here is what I have found out:
The SPP is real. So much for securing borders and solving any tax crisis. Why aren't we talking about this when we are debating who is going to be our next President? Because we're too busy worrying that Hannah Montana has whored herself (not my opinion, just repeating the general consensus I've noticed from the media circus --yes, circus, not circuit) out to Vanity Fair and how bad that looks for Disney.
The North American Union... IS IT HAPPENING? IS IT REAL? WHO IS BEHIND ALL OF THIS, AND WHY ISN'T IT FRONT PAGE HEADLINING NEWS???
executive branches of Canada , the United States , and Mexico conspired to
expand NAFTA behind the backs of their unconvinced populaces, an independent
task force sponsored by the Council on Foreign Relations floated the idea of
deeper integration under the name of the North American Community. Their paper,
published in May of 2005 and financed by Archer Daniels Midland, Merrill Lynch,
and Yves-Andres Istel, was not authored by an underground network of
conspirators against U.S. sovereignty, as NAU critics would have us believe, but
by a staid group made up mostly of former government officials and big business
This group envisioned regional integration as the
creation of a "community" with shared commercial, security, and environmental
purposes. It proposes sacrificing national policy tools to regional goals in
areas such as creation of a common security perimeter, a permanent NAFTA
tribunal to settle disputes, expanding NAFTA to restricted or excluded sectors,
and adopting a joint resource agreement and energy strategy. Indeed, some of
these recommendations could very well present threats to democracy in all three
countries. But the report does not include adopting a common currency or a
single regional government and in fact states that a "union" along the lines of
the European Union is not the right approach for North America .
paper was an academic exercise with pretensions of reaching policymakers. While
some of its recommendations were later taken up in the Security and Prosperity
Partnership talks, particularly suggestions on ways to improve transnational
business, many of them were unanchored by reality and quickly went the way of
the vast majority of policy recommendations.
The SPP, on the other hand,
established working groups, rules, recommendations, and agreements that have had
a huge and largely unknown impact on rules and policies. It is a complex web of
negotiators who work without congressional oversight, public right-to-know, or
civil society participation. The corporate world, however, has ample
representation; the SPP advisory body called the "North American Competitiveness
Council" reads like a "Who's Who" of the largest transnationals based on the
Please read part of that again...
"It is a complex web of negotiators who work without congressional oversight,
public right-to-know, or civil society participation. The corporate world,
however, has ample representation; the SPP advisory body called the "North
American Competitiveness Council" reads like a "Who's Who" of the largest
transnationals based on the continent."
Please, if someone knows more information about this, maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing, but this sounds an AWFUL LOT like BIG BUSINESS is getting ready to take over the continent of the US... without any of us knowing, behind our backs. Sounds just a bit sneaky to me. I will definitely be spending some time praying about this.
How is that for inspiration? Folks... We REALLY need to start taking a more active BOLD role in the way our country is run, otherwise, we won't have to worry about having any kind of role in our government or the decisions that are made. We won't have to worry, because we will have no say.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Playing Tennis, Golf, and Bowling. All in the confines of the play room.
Yes. We got a Wii. And it is Dangerous! I'm waiting for the day we have to explain at the ER that NO my husband is NOT beating me, the Wii remote is embedded in my head, because we were in the middle of a particularly rousing game of tennis.
Hopefully this whole video game will not be sitting around collecting dust. It is something fun for the two of us to do after Little Monster goes to bed, that almost requires active conversation.
We'll see. But it is fun.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Why do they call it BABY proofing? I mean, seriously... BABIES do not need any sort of proofing or protection from much. They are slow and dumb. Babies lay in their little seats looking scrumptiously cute, cooing and waving their hands around. They also sleep. In reality, they are tricking you to fall so much in love with them, that all they need to do is smile, or puff out that lower lip in just that way when they hit that 'toddler' stage and begin to destroy every. thing. you. own. I think we should stop calling it BABY proofing, and start calling it
demon seed Toddler proofing.
This morning we are camping somewhere in the central valley of California because my genius husband had the idea that he needed an auxiliary gas tank for his truck -- because when we tow our fifth wheel, we only get 13 to 14 mpg as opposed to the 20 that he normally gets on the highway. (Eat that Hemi Owners! Cummins diesel engines get BETTER gas mileage towing 15,000 pounds than your truck would if you were a 100 pound sissy girl!) At any rate, he's worried that if we go East, we might run into some uninhabited areas that have never heard of such a thing as diesel, or indoor plumbing, or McDonald's. You know, places like Utah, Nevada, Wyoming. Those places where you leave the gas station because they only had REGULAR Pepsi. So you're happy to wait until you can get to the gas station that sells DIET Pepsi, only to find that you have to drive another 300 miles before you see another car, 500 miles before you find a Gas Station that sells Diet Pepsi, and 2700 miles before you hit civilization again.
Where was I? Oh yeah. We're camping in the central valley of California. My husband is visiting STARBUCKS while they work on the truck. Meanwhile, I'm stuck at the campsite. With Little Monster. And Two hyper dogs. So, while I'm sitting here drinking my (badly) brewed coffee, He's sitting at Starbucks, looking at his Internet without interruptions. And now we're back to baby proofing, and the things I have to 'baby' proof, that I didn't have to baby proof in January when people didn't look at me crazy for calling the kid a 'baby.'
- Locks. As in - the lock to the front door. The lock to the door that he knows how to open, that when it does open has three sharp edged metal stairs (just waiting to crack and break his precious perfect little skull) down to the rocky ground below. Traditional baby gates won't work. We have to buy one that will cost upwards of $100 for that door. So we haven't yet.
- The DVD player, which he knows how to open. Usually opening of said DVD player is immediately followed by throwing DVDs across the room.
- EVERY. SINGLE. CABINET. They aren't normal cabinets. You have to pull HARD to open these doors and drawers, because they're built to withstand being dragged down the road at excessively high speeds. But, an 18 month old can get them open. And take everything out. Pitchers, toasters, coffee pots, plates, bowls, silverware, sharp knives (the only drawers for that stuff are at knee level), cereal, animal cookies, peanut butter, dog treats, coffee filters -- have you gotten the idea yet? No? Okay. The dog food. The canister that has 34,238 pea sized bits of dog food.
- The Water Heater Switch. In our fifth wheel, in the kitchen, there are two switches that turn the power on to the water heater. One turns it on using electricity, one turns it on using propane. Guess where they are? Right within reach!
- The propane leak detector. Did you know that thing makes a VERY shrill sound when you push the button? Yeah? Neither did I. Until this morning.
- The Dog Kennels. They're kept in a closet at home unless we need them, but here, we need them often. Little Monster likes to get into the kennels, then shut the door on himself. And then get REALLY. REALLY. MAD. because he can't get out. Not normal mad. Head spinning around, speaking in tongues, vomiting green stuff, exorcist kind of mad.
- The dogs. They now need protection from an over excited child who thinks it is GREAT fun to chase them around giggling trying to grab their tails. Or, when they think they are safe, sleeping in their bed, someone thinks it's fun and games to jump on them and try to wrestle. Just like Daddy taught him.
It isn't all that bad. It isn't like he found some mystery thing in the dog kennel and then shoved it in his mouth, only to pretend to take whatever it was out when I asked him to show me what he was eating, only to swallow said item when I asked him to give it to me. It isn't like he's trying to crawl into the storage bench right now, and I'm thinking about letting him because then I might get 30 seconds where I didn't have to say STOP THAT! NO! NO! DON'T EAT THAT! THAT'S NOT SAFE! LITTLE MONSTER! NO! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! NO! LEAVE THE DOGS ALONE! THAT'S NOT SAFE! THAT GROWL MEANS NO! STOP! STOP!
Where are his toys you ask? He doesn't have any. We left them ALL at home. Except his tricycle, his tool box, 400 books, 300 blocks, an echo microphone, the entire car collection, the entire dinosaur collection, his stuffed dogs, his stuffed bear, his Lego's, his toy train, his sesame street figurines, his stacking cup collection, seven or eight giant stuffed blocks, a few happy meal toys, and....
Two cases of diet soda. Those blasted drawers! He's gotten them open again and now we're playing 24 can pick up. I think It's time for a walk. Maybe this place has a playground.
P.S. I DO NOT really think Babies are dumb. I love love love babies. They are sweet, cute, and lovable. BUT they haven't learned much yet, including how to move around, and how to get into things. THAT's why I called them dumb. They are only dumb in comparison, to say an 18 month old, or a fully grown adult. And that comparison, it isn't really fair.
P.S.S. I am a sissy girl, so I can say stuff like that!
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
My house is often a mess. Toys (as in baby toys, dog bones, computers, etc.), shoes and old mail are often scattered about the downstairs living area. My dogs shed a lot, so there is often three or four more dog’s worth on the couches and floors as well. The kitchen sometimes has remnants of whatever the last meal (or five) was on the counter, dirty dishes aren’t in the dishwasher because it hasn’t been emptied of the clean dishes. Our furniture is mismatched and well-loved. In some cases, it barely qualifies as furniture. Fancy, I am not.
The food we eat is just that: Food. If we are lucky, we’re eating at home. If we are even luckier, I’ve had a wonderful day and have been able to prepare a great meal for all of us to enjoy together. On not-so-good days, we eat out. But we have food. We don’t always eat the healthiest, but when we do eat at home, we generally try to have a protein and vegetables in each meal. The other day I tried to prepare a spritz-type peanut butter cookie, and instead of ending up with about 3 dozen cookies the size of my palm, I ended up with about 120 cookies the size of jellybeans. I guess that chocolate drizzle won’t look so appetizing on those. Fancy, I am not.
If you were to visit our house at 10:00 in the morning, most days you would find me, my hair still a mess, in my pajamas. The little Monster would be in his pajamas too, hopefully with a clean diaper, running around in his room playing noisily, reading, or watching some PBS show. On a better day, I might be wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and Little Monster might be dressed. Fancy, I am not.
I have to remind myself that Fancy is out of reach for me. Not because, I’m not good enough, but because in my mind, to be fancy is to be ‘perfect.’ So, Fancy, I am not, because perfect I am not. And that is okay.
I often remind myself that it’s okay for my house to be a mess – because the mess means that we are living in here. The mess means, no I didn’t vacuum today. But I sat down with my child and read EVERY. SINGLE. BOOK. on his bookshelf. It means that we spent some quality time together. I am not always dressed to impress because I have an 18 month old. Who likes to wipe his snot on my shirt. And my pants. And, I don’t like to do laundry. More nice clothing means more laundry. The messy kitchen means that we are rich enough to have food on our plates, and it means that Not the Momma has distracted me from the dishes. Which is fine. It’s FINE that the dishes didn’t get done. Not the Momma is HOME. So, spend some time with him today. Let the dishes wait for tomorrow when he is deployed, or busy at work.
Even after all of those reminders, I still, in the back of my mind strive for that perfection. Most of the things I desire to be ‘perfect’ are not important. I am not going to think back when I’m 80 and wonder why in the world I didn’t vacuum or dust that one week. I am going to wonder why in the world I didn’t spend more time with my friends and family, making memories. I don’t want people to think of me when I’m gone and think “Wow! She had such furniture.” Or “She was always well dressed.” I want them to remember me for being a good person – a good friend, a good Mother and a good Wife.
I also strive to be someone who others see and recognize as a (but more importantly BE a better) Christian. Someone who is so filled with the Spirit that you can see It in me. That is not an easy walk, though. The things of this world call often and they easily distract me. I am not perfect, I am not the perfect Christian. In fact, I am FAR from it. I need to remind myself that this home is temporary – and I’m not talking about my street address. I want to be the kind of person who will be welcomed into Heaven and remembered for the good things I’ve done. I’m not where I’d like to be, and the going is slower than it should be, but I’m working on it. Why? *Because He’s gone ahead of us to prepare us a place in His Father’s house, where there are mansions everywhere. Fancy, I am not. But Our Lord is, and so is His House. And the furniture, Pottery Barn has nothing on it.
*John 14:2-6, summarized just a bit.
MUAH! Thanks for the Love Ladies!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Today was a Nonsense Poem. I, however, am not very good at nonsense of the nonsensical kind. Dr. Suess has not worries of competition from me. But, here is what I got in my 10 minutes.
Two dogs went for a walk one day.
Over the hills and far away.
On their way they met a mole.
A mole wearing a hat and digging a hole.
They helped that mole dig his hole
and into the ground the went.
Dug and Dug and Dug did they
Until they were mostly spent.
Then they heard their owner call.
Ruckles Shuckles, Let's play ball.
So, the dogs went home as fast as they could.
Running fater than they probably should.
Then they tripped on a truck.
And the day was over. They were stuck.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Thanks you sweetie!!
P.S. -- This post fulfills my obligations in the thanking department and does not imply consent to any under the cover 'snuggle' time. I'b sthiiiiiick, remember? :) I will however give you a rain check.
P.P.S. And by 'you' I mean Not the Momma. It does not apply to anyone who is reading this blog who is NOT Not the Momma.
My throat is sore, I'm exhausted, and I generally just don't feel good. I thought the whole sicky sick flu thing should hit in Jan. OH wait! It did!! I was terribly terribly sick as we moved into our new home.
Perhaps its these things called 'allergies.' Not the Momma has been complaining about his 'allergies' (sore throat, plugged head) for months... and I've been fine. Funny thing is, I'm the allergic one in this family. So, he's been taking Claritin, and whining every now and again. I've been bragging it up. Maybe it's just Karma come to kick me in the butt for being so infantile about the whole situation. I mean, if YOU were the one who normally had allergies, and were married to someone who poo-pooed it all the time, wouldn't you want to stick your thumbs in your ears, waggle your fingers, cross your eyes and say "neener neener BOO BOO" as loud as you possible could?
I actually hope this is a cold, because if this is allergies, I'm saying to heck with this, and moving to Illinois, where I only have earthquakes to worry about.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Not the Momma took this test first. Ladies, I suggest you make your prospective husband/boyfriend take this test. You might learn some things you never wanted to know!
The fact that he's thinking about going all veg and doesn't eat what he calls 'slabs O meat' are really hurting him in this arena, but dude, if you're with him, and there's a blizzard. You'd better stop and get some snickers, otherwise YOU might be on the menu!!
Here's what MY score was:
I suspect that if my husband ate sushi, or any kind of red meat, he'd be a lot higher, or if I would go all veg, like he wants, I'd be a lot lower...
I would go veg.. but I like my meat. That, and the whole tofu thing. It seriously makes me queasy if I eat too much.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I appreciate the fact that you have suddenly decided to need me to help you fall asleep? I really truly did miss the fact that I used to have you all to myself for 10 minutes every night. I missed that you NEEDED me to rock you to sleep every night. I missed it. For about a week. And then there are those fleeting moments when I want to rock you again. Those moments when you are still and your smile lights up on your face. Those moments when I am kissing your cheeks and my lips sink softly into your pillowy gushy fat baby 'nursing muscles.' That's when I think I could hold you and rock you forever.
Then reality slaps me. In the form of an arm that has fallen asleep. And your sweat. dripping down my arm. There's also the whole issue of your daddy being outside, watching a fire burn by himself. I can't hold you all night. It just isn't realisitic, baby. You really should be going to sleep before 10pm. And you really should be sleeping in your bed, not in my arms. Because, someday, you're going to be older, and your girlfriends are going to think it's a bit creepy that you need to crawl into Momma's lap in the rocker before you can fall asleep, or that if Mommy isn't around that they need to drive you around the block 4,139 times then carry you into your bed.
Please. Little Monster? Can you hear me? 10PM is NOT the time that little boys should go to bed. We can't go on a 30 mile car ride every night after an hour and a half of rocking and loving, then sleeping, and drowsing, followed by screaming when your little head touches the crib. We can't do that every night.
So, tomorrow. I'm going to put you to bed earlier. And you're going to sleep. And I will love you. Tonight, tomorrow and forever.
Friday, April 11, 2008
You have some people to thank for the fact that this is a 3 column layout now. First Thanks to Biz Whiz. That is where you got some of your initial ideas. BUT a BIG, the BIGGEST thanks goes to this post. Without it, you'd be dead -- or rather, your blog would be. THANK YOU Random Bytes!!!!! Then, you have to thank your computer teacher from way back in high school. Because that's when you first started digging into language stuffs. Without that foundation, the blog would still be broken. Oh, and thanks to Colleen for sending you the 'luck' you needed. The blog got fixed right as she commented.
It isn't completely fixed, though. I hope you are aware that the colors are awful, (eveb if they did help you figure out programming labels). Your widgets and whoozits and whatzits are missing and some cannot be recovered.
I know it's all HER fault for having such a FABULOUS page-- well, technically it's her fault for making the site soo purdy. You got jealous, and decided to give your blog a makeover as well.
I hope you've learned your lesson MommaMary! You're knee deep in code, and your page is only *barely* fixed. Adding a column is NOT a minor change. Remember that time you decided to create nested tables on your angelfire site? This was almost worse than that. Remember to check your back-ups, and for HEAVEN'S SAKE.. Don't start this project at 10:30 at night.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
- Many of you are searching for information about Bohn's Nodules and Epstein Pearls. Here is a picture of Bohn's Nodules. Here is some information about both Bohn's Nodules and Epstein's Pearls. Apparently, they are similar, but as with many things, location is everything. Neither is serious, or something to worry about. Seriously, your child is fine.
- Baby Hates Formula.... Yeah? Mine did too. Want to know what I did? Promise not to tell? You have to promise. Pinky Swear. Did you? Okay. Because this is serious stuff. People will threaten to hurt me when they read what I did. I (are you sure??) gave the baby whole milk. I wasn't satisfying the monster, I was ready to wean, he didn't want formula. Don't care what the doctor said, I wasn't going to 'starve' my baby until he decided to eat, I gave him whole milk. He drank it. And liked it. End of story. (This in no way shape or form is meant to be medical advice, or advice to NOT listen to your child's pediatrician.)
- How to wean baby at X months old (<--see what I did there? I typed X. With a KEY. I'll get over it eventually.) I gradually stopped nursing. Little Monster was eating more food, so I offered water with food at meals. I quit nursing him before his AM nap, then before his afternoon nap, then the post-PM nap nursing went away... then his first thing in the AM nursing went away. For a while, we did just before bed... and gradually.. OOOH SOOO GRADUALLY I weaned him from that. I have a lullaby CD that he sleeps to every night. I started nursing until he fell asleep, and every few nights or so, I'd stop nursing a little earlier.. The first time I shortened it to 4 songs.. After 2 or 3 successful nights, it was 3 songs.. and so on, until he didn't even notice. :) It worked. Mostly. There were a few kinks, but he's normal and happy and healthy despite them all. (At least we think he is.)
- I want to start break dancing. Yeah? Me too. Problem is the type of 'break dancing' I would be doing, would probably send me to the hospital, and would only qualify as break dancing because I'd be breaking things. And hopefully by 'things' I wouldn't mean bones.
- Mothballs -- what are they good for? Absolutely nothing. Except stinking. And being nasty. and toxic. I don't think you're harming your fetus (but again, I'm not a doctor, and have NO idea!) if you accidentally smell your grandma's mothball saturated attic for a few minutes, but like all toxic substances -- probably shouldn't be around them if you're pregnant. DEFINITELY do NOT let your small babies around them. I'd give Poison Control a call (1-800-222-1222) if you think that your child has ingested one. Or, 911. Or maybe take a short visit to the ER?
- Why we're ALL going grey: it's our kids' fault. I swear. image borrowed from http://firstpartners.net/blog/category/technology/uncategorized/
- What happened to Scrubs/JD's Baby? Um. I dunno? I think I heard that they were going to have a new episode on Thursday. Don't kill me if I'm wrong. As for what happened to JD's Baby, that's why we're waiting for the new episodes.
- How many Calories are in a Lindor Chocolate, Ghirardelli Chocolate, etc. etc. It's good Chocolate. It doesn't count. Just don't eat the ENTIRE basket at once. G was right. I really SHOULDN'T have calculated all of that. But I still have a little left. and it is STILL good! But if you really want to know the calorie value, I'd try this place. Or better yet, read the package? Or go to the company's website? Just a thought here.
- I-GO accessories -- You don't want them. Just deal with the multiple cords and adapters and get over it. This is an overpriced waste of money -- no matter HOW hard they try to tell you that it's 'convenient.' It isn't. Their tips break. Period.
- Baby Temper Tantrums come a LOT earlier than you'd expect. I say, we'd better hunker down and get used to them, because they probably aren't going anywhere... Except they soon won't be BABY temper tantrums, but KID temper tantrums, so WATCH OUT!
AND the BEST! SEARCH! EVER! TO HAVE FOUND MY BLOG:
Someone in Kuwait wants to know "How to be a good wife to an irritating husband." That, my friends, is something all women want to know. Seriously I'm joking about that. I don't know what it's like to have an irritating husband. (He's always been underway until recently.) Right about now, Not the Momma is thinking that they got the words husband and wife transposed in that sentence, as I jab him with my pokey elbows for the 40 billionth time to read him this blog to make sure it isn't too stupid. In all seriousness, if something about your husband is irritating you, have a calm talk with him about it when neither of you is upset. Try not to use words like "you always" or "you never," instead use words like "I feel ----, when," etc. It works sometimes.
What fun searches will find my blog next? Who knows? I have a feeling that since I have my X back, the searches could get eXtremely funny... Or, the same searches could continue to find me... Maybe YOU could be the neXt person to find my blog with a crazy search string (Do I see a contest coming on? Oh yeah Baby!)
225 posts people. That's amazing!
225 years ago it was 1783. That was the year the Treaty of Paris was signed. If you think about it, that's a big deal. The Treaty of Paris was the document that, for all intensive purposes ended the Revolutionary War. So, while we all celebrate July 4, 1776 as the birth of our nation, Britain still had some sort of claim on the US territories until 1783 (technically until 1784 when they ratified, but for MY purposes, we're saying 1783, because that is when OUR congress signed it.) Thank you US History 101, eh?
225 Months ago it was July in 1989. I was 8. I didn't care about what was going on, other than I was between the third and fourth grade, and I was having a good time. I was busy playing with my Nintendo, running through sprinklers and playing barbies with my BFF (well, the second F is debatable now) Nikki. I was having fun playing around. Not the Momma turned 14 that year. Because of that he thinks he robbed the cradle.
225 Days ago it was 8/28/2007. This is what I had to say that day. Nice, huh? Not so important now, unless you say expect when you say except, or use the word "you're" or "its" wrong. It was also the day that this article came out on CNN about Senator Larry Craig. Nice, huh?
225 minutes ago, we were getting ready for dinner; 225 seconds ago, I was talking to Not the Momma about auxiliary fuel tanks for his Truck.
225. What a fun number.
Stay tuned! I'm also celebrating this milestone with answers to the questions that internetters ask Google, that apparently I have the answer to.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
I got my X back. Yes sirree BOB! After losing my X during a 'routine laptop cleaning' (HA!), I lost it. I looked. I looked under and in and around the chair where said cleaning took place. I looked everywhere. I even ripped apart a vacuum bag (Yes, Nessa, I looked IN the vacuum!) and dumped its contents onto the floor looking for that X. X. Was gone. Not to be found.
Wait. Didn't I write this post last week? Today Parts-People.com came through. FedEx came while I was in the shower (I am sooo glad Not the Momma was home to intercept!) and dropped off my NEW keyboard. It was so new and un-shiny. No doggy hairs or baby drools or milk stuck under the keys. It was so new and wonderful, that rather than replacing just the X, I replaced the whole keyboard. I took my precious laptop apart and put the new keyboard on.
The feeling I get from typing on this new keyboard is one of pure X-stacy.
X-stacy. Get it? ecstasy? My X was missing, but now that it's been found i'm in X-stacy.. okay FOR! GET! IT!
I love the new click in my keys. It makes me happy.
Friday, April 04, 2008
I am Legend. A movie about a virus that wiped out the human race.. well, sort of. It killed most, very few were immune.. and the rest, turned into zombie-like mutants.
Resident Evil three. For the synopsis, see above.
For the first movie, I actually tried to watch. Not. A. Good. Idea. I hate scary movies. I don't deal well. So I was panicking(Not the Momma says that should read HYPERVENTILATING), and we actually had to stop the movie at one point during the show.
Tonight, I'm just glad I went out with the girls and had a few sangrias before the move (which was a ton of fun by the way)... and he's letting me read my internets while the movie goes on. So, when it gets a bit too intense, I can just look down and see Ashlee's little boy watching Thundercats and all is right with the world.
The reason for posting this now, and not next week? We're seriously dying. I think I'm going to get rid of dinner. Why? In Section 3, when they asked "How would you feel about the fact that you're fighting a bunch of kids? " Not the Momma said: I would be using the kids as clubs!! " Then, he read the next question, and we almost died. Seriously, take the test and read the last two questions. Then you'll know why we're both on our way to the hospital with hernias from laughing so hard.
Not the Momma's Score:
That's about right for me. I think Not the Momma could take a few more than that... But yeah. I took on at least that many preschoolers daily a few years ago. But they were tackling me with hugs, so I guess that's a little different!
Thursday, April 03, 2008
I'm warning you. It is terrible!
Well, if you insist upon reading, I can't stop you.
After putting Little Monster down for a nap, I checked my email. I noticed a dog hair (stupid dogs) between the keys of my laptop. So I got out the air can. Reasonable? Yes. As I was blowing and blowing and blowing trying to get the damn sticky dog hair from between my keys, I saw it. There was a RAT living in my keyboard!!
Okay, so it wasn't really a rat. It was a bunny. Actually a lot of them. There were dust bunnies under my keys. The air can was just blowing them around though. they weren't coming out. That, is when I had the best. idea. ever.
If having two rambunctious dogs and a crazy monster of a toddler has taught me anything, it is how to reattach keys onto laptops. So, what the hey. I know how to do it without damaging the laptop. No big deal. Right? (Here is where it begins to get scary folks!)
So. I took my keys off. I felt a little sick looking at my laptop all naked and vulnerable like that. I only took off the letters. So I got the air can out again and started blowing the dust bunnies out. Only they were sticking. If only I had something that would SUCK the dust bunnies and dog hair out of my keyboard.
I remember this one time my mom made me use this thing that cleaned stuff. It was called a.... Vaccum. That's it. After an hour of digging in the closet (do we own a vaccuum?), I found it! It even has attachments! I got out the brushy attachment and started sucking away. Yeah! Guess what. Clean laptop.
I began putting the keys back on. That's when I noticed something else. The bottom row seemed a bit, well, short. Hmm, it's a short row anyway.
After putting the top two rows on compltely, I realized that the bottom row did look a little short. I thought I was missing something so I thought out the bottom row. Z, X, C, V. WAIT! Again. Z. X. C. V. WHERE IS THE X? THE X IS MISSING!
Folks, My X is gone. I am missing my X. Gone forever. Not the Momma helped me look. The conversation was quite funny:
Me: I lost my X
NTM: You lost your What?
Me: My X. For my keyboard.
*we looked and looked and looked for missing X.*
Me: It's okay. I don't need an X
NTM: Yes you do. You need X.
Me: Nah, I'm a girl. We don't need the X. Only Men need X.
NTM: What are you going to tell Little Monster?
Me: That X is bad, and I'll tell him about the costs of playing with X.
It went downhill from there.
So, now I sit here. X-less. Not the Momma half joking suggested that perhaps I did it to get a new laptop. No. I don't want a new laptop complete with Microsoft Vista POS. (note. Piece OF S***, not Operating System). I want my old laptop. Even if it is missing an X.
the parts-people.com have old refurbished laptop keboards. So, for just a few dollars (and then quite a few more for speedy delivery), I will soon have my X back. Nice to know, huh? Just because you lose your X doesn't mean it's gone for good!
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
I have been watching you. I have become one of you recently, and sometimes I think I need to talk to all of you about some things that I see happening. One thing that scares the heck out of me is how much we ‘protect’ our kids. I understand and empathize with the fact that we don’t want our children to be disappointed. It hurts us as parents to see our children become sad and down when things don’t go their way. But what I’d like to say to you is that disappointment is part of life, and part of learning how to be a decent human being.
Aren’t we as parents, setting our kids up for disaster by shielding them from everything that could hurt their feelings? Aren’t we harming them by sending them into the world unprepared to deal with rejection?
How are our children ever going to deal with not being admitted to the college of their choice, not being offered an interview or a job, or being turned down for a date? Have you ever considered the fact that by requiring that all children in a class be invited to a party, to keep kids from being left out, and to make all things fair, we’re setting up a false sense of what reality is for our children?
Our children aren’t going to be allowed admission to college because it’s not fair to only let a few people in. They are going to be allowed admission because they fulfilled the entrance requirements. Companies don’t hire people because they filled out an application. They hire people because they are qualified for a position and the best fit for the company. People don’t go on dates because it’s fair, they go out on dates because there is an attraction. Our children are going to be denied admission to colleges, turned down for jobs, and refused dates. How are they, as adults, going to deal with the sadness and disappointment that goes along with these forms of rejection unless they have been allowed to suffer a little bit as children – if they haven’t learned how to cope with small disappointments, how much is a big one going to impact them?
We can’t have birthday parties anymore without inviting the entire class, because some kids might be left out, and then they’ll be sad. Emabee is just one person who has written about the frustration that goes along with having a birthday party and trying to deal with the school’s rules.
I found a note from her teacher in her notebook. It said something to the effect that if we were going to invite just a few kids from her class, I needed to find a way to do it outside of school as it was school policy for invitations to be given to every kid in class.
Same thing happened her first grade year. Different school, different state. Same story.
What if I couldn’t afford to have a party for all those kids? What if she hated some of the kids in her class? What if I prepared (or bought) a bunch of food and trinkets for the goody bag and games and drinks, etc….and only 3 people showed up?
It doesn’t end at birthday parties, though. Kids are let onto sports teams, whether or not they are good enough to play the sport. They can’t even “fail” in school, because it might hurt their self esteem to know they didn’t pass a class. How is this going to help them when they go to take the Bar, the MCATs, SAT, ACT and any professional qualification tests? It isn’t. Not. At. All.
We as people learn from our experiences and our mistakes. So, if we rarely feel disappointment, we don’t know how to deal with it. Is this why our teens and college students are lashing out and killing their peers? They don’t know how to deal with the stress of being disappointed. They don’t know how to deal with a bit of failure now and then (because we all fail sometimes).
I could go on forever about this: I could go on about how we give in to every little whim and desire of our children far too often, how we don’t give our children limits by saying no, how we, as a society are failing our children in many many ways.
Parents, caregivers and teachers (or more likely their administrations) need to understand that disappointments are part of what shape is into empathetic, sympathetic, decent human beings. If we don’t know what it feels like to be disappointed, we can’t help others, or feel for others, or desire to help others. If we don’t know what it feels like to be let down, we don’t know how important it is to not let others down.
I’m not sure how to end this letter, but I hope that together we can all give this some serious thought. Try not to disappoint your children through broken promises. Shield your child from some of the hurts and tragedies that are involved in life, but for their sakes, please don’t shield them from everything. It isn’t helping them. It’s hurting them.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
After spending so much time away from you, I forgot how nice it is to go to sleep with someone. Snuggled closely under warm covers. I forgot about those nice conversations you have just before you fall asleep. Unfortunately, I've reverted back to my childhood days and cannot shut up. This is a problem for you because you actually have to be to work at a specific time in the morning. I, on the other hand, show up to work whenever Little Monster wakes up.
Our days are so busy that we don't get a lot of actual 'talking' in sometimes. You go to work, and I'm at home working. Working on housework, talking to clients and working with my "real job". I run the errands and take care of Little Monster. Then, when you come home, our evenings are pretty full. We try to fit in a family walk or bike ride, dinner comes, then it's bath and bed time for Little Monster. After bath time, you work on your homework and I generally,
I guess I'm still that little girl who just can't shut up. You knew I had verbal dysentery (as my mother calls it) when you married me, so you are stuck with it. I know you love me anyway. I'll try to fall asleep, but remember that whole boy/girl difference thing? You can fall asleep in about 30 seconds. I, however, take a few (read: between 30 and 90) minutes. So, humor me every once in a while and just train yourself to grunt whenever I finish a sentence. That way I can talk until I fall asleep and you can sleep while I talk. Will that work? That's what I thought. Fine, then. NO more Frappuccino's in the afternoons!
So, stay tuned. I will re-submit my previous entry later. Just in case you cared.