...what is going on with my banner photo at this moment. Please excuse the yucky-ness of it all until I have a free moment to try to figure it out.
Also, I updated my initial post about BlogHer again. :)
Oh, and yeah! Nablopomo is over! I can resume normal function again! (meaning sleep.)
Only 8 days until Not the Momma is home. And before you get all up in my comments about violations of certain rules about disclosing information. This is not a violation. I am not risking any critical or non-critical mission by leaking information about when a ship is going to return. He's not on a ship remember? He's flying home. On a plane. At least, I hope he'll be coming home in 8 days. He might have changed his mind and decided to stay where the cold 70 degree weather is chilling his bones through instead of coming home where the balmy 43 degrees yesterday had me wondering whether I really needed a coat.
Showing posts with label NaBloPoMo07. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NaBloPoMo07. Show all posts
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
The post that is going to get my.. uh, butt kicked.
I watched a news piece about a family who had two girls, looking to be ages 3 and 5, where Dad worked, Mom stayed home, and they couldn't afford to buy toys for Christmas. So there is a program set up where Police Officers take those children shopping for some toys since they won't be getting any under their tree. The kids they showed picked clothes and shoes, because they needed them more than toys. This put two thoughts into my head. The first was that the kids really felt that they were in need, and were being frugal. That thought made me want to cry. The second was (and here is where you begin hating me) "Why in the world doesn't the mom get a JOB?" I mean, I know I stay home, but most of the time, we can afford that without worries about where our next meal is going to come from, or whether or not the next growth spurt is going to put us in the poor house. (Not the Momma -- Please note I said most of the time. I am fully aware that your child will very soon begin eating food. For real. And when that happens, I'm prepared to start hunting rabbits and squirrels so we don't have to give up TiVo, and so that the baby can wear pants that actually hit his ankle rather than the kind that make you think you should be building an ark in preparation for the big flood.) My initial thoughts were: This lady was accepting charity because she couldn't afford clothing and toys for her kids, but she doesn't have a job? Something seems a bit off about that. I mean, really, surely she can find a job so that they can afford to buy their kids clothing....
My problem is that they don't have enough money to clothe their children, yet the mother chooses to be a Stay at Home Mom. There is something wrong with that. Now, before you go all crazy and start hurling those rotten tomatoes again, remember that I stay home. (I work, but don't make much, my money goes for fun stuff, like my clothing. And shoes. And Starbucks. )Remember, I am a stay at home mom. I understand the need to work to support your family, I am not trying to pick on mothers who work, even if they don't have to. I'm not trying to pick on mothers who stay home when money is tight. I have issues because the family was seemingly having trouble affording to buy clothes for their children and was receiving charity because of a choice the family had made.
I understand that in some cases, it isn't possible for both parents to work, because it isn't cost effective. I know that if the SAH parent could only make minimum wage, and the children have to go to daycare, forget it. You're actually losing money on the deal. I know that. We only have one child, age one. When we starting trying to have kids (oh... almost five years ago now) I spent a lot of time thinking about this issue. I made multiple spreadsheets comparing how much money I would actually make after considering all of the costs associated with working (work clothing, lunches out, daycare, lost time with the baby, gas spent driving to/from work, etc.) I figured out then that I had to make around $10/hour to break even until the baby grew up enough to get past that expensive "baby" phase at daycare.
When I looked at the amount of money I would actually bring home at the end of the month, it didn't seem worth letting someone else raise my child for 50 or so hours per week and giving up all of those hours when the baby was awake. (And now that I am a mommy, I think about the hours and hours of extra sleep I've gotten because when I've needed to I can nap when the baby naps. That makes everyone's life around here just a bit better.) Another thing to consider, my husband is in the military so he's never home. And by never, I mean, NEVER. Not, he works 80 hours per week, like, Next Tuesday he's leaving for six, no wait, eight, no, I take that back, 18 months. Over those 18 months he will often work 100+ hour weeks, 16+ hour days, sometimes 24 hours per day. That kind of Never. Never, like something on the ship broke, and they need it fixed yesterday, so sorry about that birthday party, or anniversary, or planned trip to the amusement park never. Never, like, he's really physically UNABLE to be around to do things like go to doctor appointments, school programs, take care of sick children never. We decided that one of us has to be available to be around for the important moments, and because his career has the health insurance and retirement plan, we picked his over mine. Oops, I'm rambling again. What I was saying is that we weighed the options. He agrees (or at least he used to) that staying home was the best option for our family. However, I know, that if money got so tight that we were tempted to rely on charity to provide things for our children, I would no longer be staying at home. The baby would be going into daycare, and I would be finding a job. At least until things got better.
My problem is that they don't have enough money to clothe their children, yet the mother chooses to be a Stay at Home Mom. There is something wrong with that. Now, before you go all crazy and start hurling those rotten tomatoes again, remember that I stay home. (I work, but don't make much, my money goes for fun stuff, like my clothing. And shoes. And Starbucks. )Remember, I am a stay at home mom. I understand the need to work to support your family, I am not trying to pick on mothers who work, even if they don't have to. I'm not trying to pick on mothers who stay home when money is tight. I have issues because the family was seemingly having trouble affording to buy clothes for their children and was receiving charity because of a choice the family had made.
I understand that in some cases, it isn't possible for both parents to work, because it isn't cost effective. I know that if the SAH parent could only make minimum wage, and the children have to go to daycare, forget it. You're actually losing money on the deal. I know that. We only have one child, age one. When we starting trying to have kids (oh... almost five years ago now) I spent a lot of time thinking about this issue. I made multiple spreadsheets comparing how much money I would actually make after considering all of the costs associated with working (work clothing, lunches out, daycare, lost time with the baby, gas spent driving to/from work, etc.) I figured out then that I had to make around $10/hour to break even until the baby grew up enough to get past that expensive "baby" phase at daycare.
When I looked at the amount of money I would actually bring home at the end of the month, it didn't seem worth letting someone else raise my child for 50 or so hours per week and giving up all of those hours when the baby was awake. (And now that I am a mommy, I think about the hours and hours of extra sleep I've gotten because when I've needed to I can nap when the baby naps. That makes everyone's life around here just a bit better.) Another thing to consider, my husband is in the military so he's never home. And by never, I mean, NEVER. Not, he works 80 hours per week, like, Next Tuesday he's leaving for six, no wait, eight, no, I take that back, 18 months. Over those 18 months he will often work 100+ hour weeks, 16+ hour days, sometimes 24 hours per day. That kind of Never. Never, like something on the ship broke, and they need it fixed yesterday, so sorry about that birthday party, or anniversary, or planned trip to the amusement park never. Never, like, he's really physically UNABLE to be around to do things like go to doctor appointments, school programs, take care of sick children never. We decided that one of us has to be available to be around for the important moments, and because his career has the health insurance and retirement plan, we picked his over mine. Oops, I'm rambling again. What I was saying is that we weighed the options. He agrees (or at least he used to) that staying home was the best option for our family. However, I know, that if money got so tight that we were tempted to rely on charity to provide things for our children, I would no longer be staying at home. The baby would be going into daycare, and I would be finding a job. At least until things got better.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Rants
I thought I finally figured it out... (updated...again.)
(New/edited content in PURPLE) (Even NEWER content is in this color)
I have been trying to figure out the whole BlogHer thing for months. MONTHS! Well, last night, after navigating through the difficult terrain of their website and finally figuring out how to post there, I figured it out. I, then, very stupidly, back-posted for the month of November, not realizing it was actually published so prominently on the front page, not realizing it would be seen as Spam to some members. So, to those members who flagged my content as Spam, I apologize. I certainly did not intend to do so. I didn't realize that my posts even appeared anywhere on the site, until after I had posted all of my entries. My feelings are a bit hurt, but that's only because I'm human, and has nothing to do with the very kind and polite email I recieved from a staff member letting me know they were removing my content.
Now, for those of you who are reading this, and don't use BlogHer, don't sour your opinion based on my first "real" experince. While, I am a person who tends to believe first impressions, I'm going to let this one slide. After all, this wasn't my first impression, it was really my 30th. It was just the first time I'd posted anything. The staff member was very polite in her email and I can definitely understand that I could have irritated some people by making it difficult to get to anyone else's posting efforts. I hate it when people post so much that you find it hard to see any content besides theirs, and, although unknowingly, that is what I did. I spammed their site. ::tear:: But really, it didn't seem like one of those "automated" messages, cold and heartless, the moderater was actually HUMAN, and sounded like it! :) <--Positive thing about BlogHer. BIG BIG positive thing about BlogHer!
However, if you are not an internet genius, and You're seeing this and thinking, Hey, BlogHer, an internet site for women who want to blog! Get a blogger account. Give up doing much with BlogHer. (Unless you're like me and REFUSE, even if it is only stubbornness. Initially, I found it to be a very difficult site to use and navigate. Perhaps I'm just not in the "in" crowd there, and I'm out of some sort of telepathic "loop." I have read the FAQ's, I have done my best, but I am having a hard time figuring out the semantics of it all. Thousands of other women, have figured it out, though, so why can't I? I am NOT an internet genius, but I am most definitely not one of those people who confuse my monitor's power button with my computer's power button either. I work on the computer - I'm a graphic designer (of sorts)! I've worked primarily on a computer for the better part of the last seven years, three of those actually helping idiots learn how to work theirs. I would say I'm above average in terms of my knowledge of how to use a computer. I'm only an average writer, though. I wonder how many above-average writers they are losing because you have to be an internet genius to navigate their site?
I digress. My point was an apology (to those who aren't reading this site)for being a spammer. I hate spam, even the canned kind. I am very embarrassed that I have been labeled a spammer. Hopefully I'll wake up from my BlogHer fog, and realize that I'm a complete idiot (it has happened before on other sites), and realize that I just wasn't looking at the page right, and BlogHer can be navigated by monkeys without thumbs.
Once I really started digging into the site, I found a lot of helpful, informative, inspiring and creative content. I know this post seems to be a bit negative, but I don't want it to be. The more I dig around on BlogHer, the more I like it. The more I feel another internet addiction coming on.
Bring on that internet addiction Baby! Even if my initial (well, 30th) reaction to BlogHer was a negative one, it was my fault. That seemingly "non-automated" email message was an email from a real person, who came here (Hi Denise!) and read my message. She offered even more help. So, if you are thinking about joining BlogHer, and have read my blog and are worried about it don't be. If you have trouble, just use that "Contact" link at the top and email and ask for help. Or use the "community" link and post in the forum. I would be willing to bet that you'll have an email from a friendly LIVE human being to help you out!
Now, if you think this is a blog bashing BlogHer, you should realize that I wouldn't have linked to their site a bazillion times if I hated them. I am not bashing them, nor do I hate them, I am going to try to figure the whole thing out. I am going to do it. Because I am stubborn that way.
I have been trying to figure out the whole BlogHer thing for months. MONTHS! Well, last night, after navigating through the difficult terrain of their website and finally figuring out how to post there, I figured it out. I, then, very stupidly, back-posted for the month of November, not realizing it was actually published so prominently on the front page, not realizing it would be seen as Spam to some members. So, to those members who flagged my content as Spam, I apologize. I certainly did not intend to do so. I didn't realize that my posts even appeared anywhere on the site, until after I had posted all of my entries. My feelings are a bit hurt, but that's only because I'm human, and has nothing to do with the very kind and polite email I recieved from a staff member letting me know they were removing my content.
Now, for those of you who are reading this, and don't use BlogHer, don't sour your opinion based on my first "real" experince. While, I am a person who tends to believe first impressions, I'm going to let this one slide. After all, this wasn't my first impression, it was really my 30th. It was just the first time I'd posted anything. The staff member was very polite in her email and I can definitely understand that I could have irritated some people by making it difficult to get to anyone else's posting efforts. I hate it when people post so much that you find it hard to see any content besides theirs, and, although unknowingly, that is what I did. I spammed their site. ::tear:: But really, it didn't seem like one of those "automated" messages, cold and heartless, the moderater was actually HUMAN, and sounded like it! :) <--Positive thing about BlogHer. BIG BIG positive thing about BlogHer!
I digress. My point was an apology (to those who aren't reading this site)for being a spammer. I hate spam, even the canned kind. I am very embarrassed that I have been labeled a spammer. Hopefully I'll wake up from my BlogHer fog, and realize that I'm a complete idiot (it has happened before on other sites), and realize that I just wasn't looking at the page right, and BlogHer can be navigated by monkeys without thumbs.
Once I really started digging into the site, I found a lot of helpful, informative, inspiring and creative content. I know this post seems to be a bit negative, but I don't want it to be. The more I dig around on BlogHer, the more I like it. The more I feel another internet addiction coming on.
Bring on that internet addiction Baby! Even if my initial (well, 30th) reaction to BlogHer was a negative one, it was my fault. That seemingly "non-automated" email message was an email from a real person, who came here (Hi Denise!) and read my message. She offered even more help. So, if you are thinking about joining BlogHer, and have read my blog and are worried about it don't be. If you have trouble, just use that "Contact" link at the top and email and ask for help. Or use the "community" link and post in the forum. I would be willing to bet that you'll have an email from a friendly LIVE human being to help you out!
Now, if you think this is a blog bashing BlogHer, you should realize that I wouldn't have linked to their site a bazillion times if I hated them. I am not bashing them, nor do I hate them, I am going to try to figure the whole thing out. I am going to do it. Because I am stubborn that way.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Random Rambling
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Funny Searches and Other boring stuff.
I am really copying just about anyone on the internet whose website has been found using a search engine. I do spy on you readers, just a bit. I know when you find me through a search, and where you live. I don't know exactly who all of you are, but I can guess based on your ISP, IP address, and your location. So, the secret is out, you all know. I am flattered that all 20 of you read my webpage. Seriously. There's probably 20 regular readers. So, for you regular readers, would you like to know some searches that have found my page? Only a few of them are funny, some of them are logical, but at least one of them blows my mind.
Search LEAST likely to find my blog, but does:
"fedex -xanax -cialis –pharmacy", in google, under blog searches. That is how someone found my page. I still haven't found it that way, but hey. I have never (before now) talked about my habit of buying prescription drugs on the internet, but hey secret's out now. No, I'm kidding. I have no idea why this search brought up my blog.
Scariest Search ever to find my page:
"he tied me, he raped me" or just simply "he tied me". (I assume it has something to do with this post.
Someone got the wrong idea!
"Dealing with Rotten Family." Never once have I called my family rotten, or talked about how I have to "deal" with how rotten they are. Perhaps it was my "rotten" tomato comment? I don't know, but I thought it was funny, being as this blog is mainly about my family and my life. But, seriously, my family is not rotten, and I don't have to "deal" with them, I live with them and I love them. Really. I do.
Someone got it right!
"Mothball in shoes" That's right. Someone else is married to a man who likes to keep mothballs in his shoes so as to poison his loving wife. yup. I'm not the only one. I can only hope that this person learned about how much better Cedar balls are.
Duh, We know why these brought us here:
"Pregnancy, Muslim" "Baby big chip tooth" "Man who sued God"
and finally.
The longest set of words EVER.
"baby not sleeping because he learned to pull himself up in crib"
It is fun to go back through and "search" using these terms and find my page. I wonder what future searches will find my page. I'm pretty sure some prescription drug abusers will probably stumble upon my blog now that I've used a couple of key terms, but oh well. I will save searches up again and see what crazy things people have found my site using in the future. In other news, I have updated the site a bit.
I've made it a bit more "festive" for the holiday (OH NO, don't let the American Family Association hear me say HOLIDAY instead of CHRISTMAS, they might boycott me). I'm still working on a new working title. "Just the baby and me..." won't work anymore because, well, the husband is coming home. So ideas could be helpful. I have changed the title for now, but I'm not sure I like it. Just be nice, especially if I don't know you, because, remember, I know what city you live in and have a close personal relationship with someone who can cause lots of damage with the accidental push of a button. But I'm not threatening you, or saying that anyone I know would be willing to risk their career for something stupid like that.
Search LEAST likely to find my blog, but does:
"fedex -xanax -cialis –pharmacy", in google, under blog searches. That is how someone found my page. I still haven't found it that way, but hey. I have never (before now) talked about my habit of buying prescription drugs on the internet, but hey secret's out now. No, I'm kidding. I have no idea why this search brought up my blog.
Scariest Search ever to find my page:
"he tied me, he raped me" or just simply "he tied me". (I assume it has something to do with this post.
Someone got the wrong idea!
"Dealing with Rotten Family." Never once have I called my family rotten, or talked about how I have to "deal" with how rotten they are. Perhaps it was my "rotten" tomato comment? I don't know, but I thought it was funny, being as this blog is mainly about my family and my life. But, seriously, my family is not rotten, and I don't have to "deal" with them, I live with them and I love them. Really. I do.
Someone got it right!
"Mothball in shoes" That's right. Someone else is married to a man who likes to keep mothballs in his shoes so as to poison his loving wife. yup. I'm not the only one. I can only hope that this person learned about how much better Cedar balls are.
Duh, We know why these brought us here:
"Pregnancy, Muslim" "Baby big chip tooth" "Man who sued God"
and finally.
The longest set of words EVER.
"baby not sleeping because he learned to pull himself up in crib"
It is fun to go back through and "search" using these terms and find my page. I wonder what future searches will find my page. I'm pretty sure some prescription drug abusers will probably stumble upon my blog now that I've used a couple of key terms, but oh well. I will save searches up again and see what crazy things people have found my site using in the future. In other news, I have updated the site a bit.
I've made it a bit more "festive" for the holiday (OH NO, don't let the American Family Association hear me say HOLIDAY instead of CHRISTMAS, they might boycott me). I'm still working on a new working title. "Just the baby and me..." won't work anymore because, well, the husband is coming home. So ideas could be helpful. I have changed the title for now, but I'm not sure I like it. Just be nice, especially if I don't know you, because, remember, I know what city you live in and have a close personal relationship with someone who can cause lots of damage with the accidental push of a button. But I'm not threatening you, or saying that anyone I know would be willing to risk their career for something stupid like that.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Random Rambling
TWO DAYS LEFT!!!
There are only two days left of Nabloplomo. I am pretty proud of myself. Even on days when I have been unable to post to the internet, I have written something to post. There has been something each day, and I haven't resorted to photos or one-liners, most of the time.
I must apologize that as soon as Nabloplomo is over, the posting will probably slow down A LOOOOOT. You see, we have movers coming next week, Not the Momma returns home next weekend (not this one, the next one.) We have another week, then we're off to CA. I can only hope that I won't be trapped without internet for too long, but then, who knows?
Oh, and for those of you who are interested: The baby weighed in at a little over 24 pounds, a little over 31 inches, and is doing great. No anemia, etc. yada yada. The shots however? They sucked. DO NOT watch them jam the three inch needles into your baby's thigh. You will think they have scratched the bone. The finger prick and squeeze was the worst. He was traumatized by that. Every time he saw the band-aid on his finger the tears would resume. It has been pathetic.
I must apologize that as soon as Nabloplomo is over, the posting will probably slow down A LOOOOOT. You see, we have movers coming next week, Not the Momma returns home next weekend (not this one, the next one.) We have another week, then we're off to CA. I can only hope that I won't be trapped without internet for too long, but then, who knows?
Oh, and for those of you who are interested: The baby weighed in at a little over 24 pounds, a little over 31 inches, and is doing great. No anemia, etc. yada yada. The shots however? They sucked. DO NOT watch them jam the three inch needles into your baby's thigh. You will think they have scratched the bone. The finger prick and squeeze was the worst. He was traumatized by that. Every time he saw the band-aid on his finger the tears would resume. It has been pathetic.
Labels:
children,
family,
NaBloPoMo07,
parenthood,
Random Rambling
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Why I'm going grey before 30:
Just a few minutes from my day today:
12:20 PM: On the phone with work, trying to work out a design "crisis." Baby is smearing peanut butter all over his hands, but making mmmm sounds because he likes it sooo much.
12:35 PM: Baby is done with lunch, but covered in peanut butter. Start bath water.
12:37 PM: Take down baby gates so as not to kill self/baby while carrying him around.
12:39 PM: Remove tray from high chair and put in sink to rinse contents.
12:40 PM: Get baby out of high chair carefully, so as NOT to get peanut butter all over myself.
12:41 PM: Get baby in bathroom, unsnap top of outfit. Doorbell rings.
12:42 PM: Race stupid dog to the door, kicking him off of the baby and me while trying to figure out who in the world would be so stupid as to show up NOW.
12:43 PM: Watch the FedEX man run away after he left package at door. Set baby down for ONE SECOND to open door and grab box, while trying to beat off the dog who really wants to attack the FedEX man and smother him with kisses.
12:44 PM: FedEX man drives off, dog busts through the door and finds a technician from the city's electric company to bark at while chasing their truck/trailer. Hang up on poor guy from work, pick up baby, because there are NO baby gates up, and the bath water is running. I pick up peanut butter covered baby, run outside screaming like an idiot at the (*&#@^* dog, who instead of going inside when I threaten to send him to Doggy Heaven runs the other way. Continue this for what seems like forever. In my pajamas and slippers, in front of the guys from the electric company, the neighbors, and God. Continue screaming and chasing dog until he realizes that certain death is near if he does not GET BACK INSIDE THE HOUSE YOU STUPID DOG! RIGHT NOW! I MEAN IT! YOU GET BACK INSIDE THIS VERY INSTANT BEFORE I KILL YOU! BUSTER! GET INSIDE NOOOOOOW! INSIDE! INSIDE!INSIDE NOOOOW!
12:53 PM: Finally get stupid dog back inside, shut door and get baby into the bath. Notice the house looks like a herd of tazmanian devils have torn through it. Forget about the mess and bathe the baby.
12:54 PM: Baby decides he is done with the bath and tries to climb out of the tub, but slips and barely misses having his precious head smashed into the floor.
1:10 PM: Baby is washed, cleaned and dressed. I can finally relax. RIIIGHT. I still have to clean up the lunch mess, pick up toys, shower, dress and become presentable, finish up the "design crisis" artwork, call work back (because I hung up on them, remember?), email about 4 other clients back about their design work and go grocery shopping, all before 4:00 so that I can leave to head to in-laws for dinner on time.
That, my friends is the reason for the big grey hair in the middle of my forehead. The one I want to pluck, but am afraid to for fear that seven friends actually will show up to mourn its loss.
12:20 PM: On the phone with work, trying to work out a design "crisis." Baby is smearing peanut butter all over his hands, but making mmmm sounds because he likes it sooo much.
12:35 PM: Baby is done with lunch, but covered in peanut butter. Start bath water.
12:37 PM: Take down baby gates so as not to kill self/baby while carrying him around.
12:39 PM: Remove tray from high chair and put in sink to rinse contents.
12:40 PM: Get baby out of high chair carefully, so as NOT to get peanut butter all over myself.
12:41 PM: Get baby in bathroom, unsnap top of outfit. Doorbell rings.
12:42 PM: Race stupid dog to the door, kicking him off of the baby and me while trying to figure out who in the world would be so stupid as to show up NOW.
12:43 PM: Watch the FedEX man run away after he left package at door. Set baby down for ONE SECOND to open door and grab box, while trying to beat off the dog who really wants to attack the FedEX man and smother him with kisses.
12:44 PM: FedEX man drives off, dog busts through the door and finds a technician from the city's electric company to bark at while chasing their truck/trailer. Hang up on poor guy from work, pick up baby, because there are NO baby gates up, and the bath water is running. I pick up peanut butter covered baby, run outside screaming like an idiot at the (*&#@^* dog, who instead of going inside when I threaten to send him to Doggy Heaven runs the other way. Continue this for what seems like forever. In my pajamas and slippers, in front of the guys from the electric company, the neighbors, and God. Continue screaming and chasing dog until he realizes that certain death is near if he does not GET BACK INSIDE THE HOUSE YOU STUPID DOG! RIGHT NOW! I MEAN IT! YOU GET BACK INSIDE THIS VERY INSTANT BEFORE I KILL YOU! BUSTER! GET INSIDE NOOOOOOW! INSIDE! INSIDE!INSIDE NOOOOW!
12:53 PM: Finally get stupid dog back inside, shut door and get baby into the bath. Notice the house looks like a herd of tazmanian devils have torn through it. Forget about the mess and bathe the baby.
12:54 PM: Baby decides he is done with the bath and tries to climb out of the tub, but slips and barely misses having his precious head smashed into the floor.
1:10 PM: Baby is washed, cleaned and dressed. I can finally relax. RIIIGHT. I still have to clean up the lunch mess, pick up toys, shower, dress and become presentable, finish up the "design crisis" artwork, call work back (because I hung up on them, remember?), email about 4 other clients back about their design work and go grocery shopping, all before 4:00 so that I can leave to head to in-laws for dinner on time.
That, my friends is the reason for the big grey hair in the middle of my forehead. The one I want to pluck, but am afraid to for fear that seven friends actually will show up to mourn its loss.
Labels:
children,
family,
NaBloPoMo07,
parenthood
Monday, November 26, 2007
What could be more fun than...
...having my fingernails ripped out one at a time, followed by my toenails?** (DISCLAIMER: Please excuse any overuse of capital letters and exclamation points. I believe I have been poisoned.)
Unpacking boxes jammed with mothballs. I hate the things. They smell disgusting, are incredibly toxic, and did I mention the smell? The stench they produce is so strong, I swear it overpowers fresh skunk spray.
If I hate the things, why would I be unpacking boxes filled with them? I don't exactly know WHY. Some would say because "they" want to make sure the bugs are dead. I'm not exactly who "they" is, but that is why there are mothballs in the boxes. I opened the boxes yesterday. Since then I've had headaches, nausea, dizzy spells, etc. I have had no clue why. But perhaps, JUST MAYBE someone is trying to POISON me with MOTHBALLS. Mothballs in shoes, every stinkin' bag of shoes. All 10 of them. Mothballs buried in the bottom of boxes, mothballs hidden in folds of clothing, in shoes. in all of the damned shoes. Blasted shoes. Shoes that CANNOT be washed in the washer, so the smell CANNOT be rinsed out of them. SHOES made out of suede and leather. HOW IN THE WORLD DO YOU GET MOTHBALL SCENT OUT OF COWBOY BOOTS?!
After spending an hour digging through all of the clothing, while trying to keep the baby from helping, (so as not to let him DIE from MOTHBALL POISONING), I think I finally got rid of the last one. I thought that once I had gotten rid of the things, that the smell would go away. Maybe the smell is just BURNED into my nose FOREVER. Maybe it has soaked into the carpet that the stinky mothball infested clothing was sitting on. All I know, is that the smell, it's still here. It hasn't gone away, and I have a headache, and I feel like throwing up again. Good thing I'm not pregnant. My fetus would be crying right now.
Just some things to consider in the future if you ever wanted to use mothballs:
1)MOTHBALLS ARE TOXIC. TOXIC means DEADLY to BABIES and PETS. Babies and pets who accidentally ingest mothballs, mistaking them for, oh, the candy they resemble, suffer from the following symptoms before DYING: eye, nose, throat irritation, respiratory problems, vertigo*, confusion, headache*, nausea*, vomiting, and/or fatigue*, convulsions, hemolytic anemia, and in long-term exposures, dementia and cancer. (* denotes symptoms I have had in the past 24 hours.)
2) MOTHBALL alternatives include: CEDAR, a natural pest repellent, smells nice. Is sold in balls, blocks and disks. Re-usable, and just as easy to use as mothballs. Leftover Soap slivers can also be used. They smell MUCH nicer and will repel pests just as well. Simply put them in a vented bag. Sachets full of things such as rosemary, lavender, lemon peel, and rose petals. They repel bugs as well, and smell very nice.
I swear that if I find ONE more mothball, I am going to find a way to get to where they originated and, well, I don't know what I'd do. But it might not be pretty. And then when that is over, I could commence to re-arranging some furniture, especially bedroom furniture. Please, for the love of GOD tell me that there are no more mothballs. I hate mothballs. Did I mention that I hate mothballs? I think the dementia is starting to kick in.
Unpacking boxes jammed with mothballs. I hate the things. They smell disgusting, are incredibly toxic, and did I mention the smell? The stench they produce is so strong, I swear it overpowers fresh skunk spray.
If I hate the things, why would I be unpacking boxes filled with them? I don't exactly know WHY. Some would say because "they" want to make sure the bugs are dead. I'm not exactly who "they" is, but that is why there are mothballs in the boxes. I opened the boxes yesterday. Since then I've had headaches, nausea, dizzy spells, etc. I have had no clue why. But perhaps, JUST MAYBE someone is trying to POISON me with MOTHBALLS. Mothballs in shoes, every stinkin' bag of shoes. All 10 of them. Mothballs buried in the bottom of boxes, mothballs hidden in folds of clothing, in shoes. in all of the damned shoes. Blasted shoes. Shoes that CANNOT be washed in the washer, so the smell CANNOT be rinsed out of them. SHOES made out of suede and leather. HOW IN THE WORLD DO YOU GET MOTHBALL SCENT OUT OF COWBOY BOOTS?!
After spending an hour digging through all of the clothing, while trying to keep the baby from helping, (so as not to let him DIE from MOTHBALL POISONING), I think I finally got rid of the last one. I thought that once I had gotten rid of the things, that the smell would go away. Maybe the smell is just BURNED into my nose FOREVER. Maybe it has soaked into the carpet that the stinky mothball infested clothing was sitting on. All I know, is that the smell, it's still here. It hasn't gone away, and I have a headache, and I feel like throwing up again. Good thing I'm not pregnant. My fetus would be crying right now.
Just some things to consider in the future if you ever wanted to use mothballs:
1)MOTHBALLS ARE TOXIC. TOXIC means DEADLY to BABIES and PETS. Babies and pets who accidentally ingest mothballs, mistaking them for, oh, the candy they resemble, suffer from the following symptoms before DYING: eye, nose, throat irritation, respiratory problems, vertigo*, confusion, headache*, nausea*, vomiting, and/or fatigue*, convulsions, hemolytic anemia, and in long-term exposures, dementia and cancer. (* denotes symptoms I have had in the past 24 hours.)
2) MOTHBALL alternatives include: CEDAR, a natural pest repellent, smells nice. Is sold in balls, blocks and disks. Re-usable, and just as easy to use as mothballs. Leftover Soap slivers can also be used. They smell MUCH nicer and will repel pests just as well. Simply put them in a vented bag. Sachets full of things such as rosemary, lavender, lemon peel, and rose petals. They repel bugs as well, and smell very nice.
I swear that if I find ONE more mothball, I am going to find a way to get to where they originated and, well, I don't know what I'd do. But it might not be pretty. And then when that is over, I could commence to re-arranging some furniture, especially bedroom furniture. Please, for the love of GOD tell me that there are no more mothballs. I hate mothballs. Did I mention that I hate mothballs? I think the dementia is starting to kick in.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Random Rambling
Sunday, November 25, 2007
But Polygamy would have been so much fun...
A long time ago in a land far away, my friend, also known as “glitters” and I made a pact. We had discussed what would happen if we didn’t meet someone to marry. Neither of us liked the idea of living alone so we decided that when we turned 40 (because when you’re in high school 40 is practically dead) if we hadn’t married, we would “marry” each other, buy a house, and live together. We spent the summers she was home from college running around together having a good time. People often thought that Glitters and I were sisters, because we look alike, dark hair, freckles, etc. The best “sister” incident was when we were approached by the manager of “The Night Before,” who apparently thought adding sister act to the club’s repertoire would be good for business.
While Glitters was off at school, I met this guy. 10 months later, we were married, and getting ready to move to Rhode Island. Glitters, graduated from college, was getting ready to head to Australia for her next stage of schooling, but wanted to meet some friends on the east cost before taking off for the land down-under. Because when you move for the military, they don’t move your vehicles for you, my husband and I had to drive separately Glitters came along for the ride, so I wouldn’t go crazy in the car all that way by myself.
While on this trip, our pact came up. I had ruined it for poor Glitters, who was now destined to live alone when shegot old turned 40. My husband, overheard our conversation, and being the generous man that he is, offered to become a polygamist when Glitters got old turned 40 if she hadn’t found a mate. (Ha-ha, no pun intended.) That would allow her to marry into our family, so that I could stay married to my husband, and honor the pact I’d made with her. For the week that she stayed with us, he had a good time pretending to be married to two women.
He had such a good time pretending, that for the past five years, he has counted down to the day that he would get to marry Glitters. At least once a year, he’d bring up how many years he had left “Only 14 more years until I marry Glitters.” I had to break some sad news to him the other day. We got a wedding invitation from Glitters and her fiancé. Glitters is getting married; so my husband doesn’t get to be married to two women. I’m sure he would have regretted that decision eventually anyway. After all, once you’ve been married to one woman for a few years, you learn one is plenty, especially when she has a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day and threatens to move to Australia.
While Glitters was off at school, I met this guy. 10 months later, we were married, and getting ready to move to Rhode Island. Glitters, graduated from college, was getting ready to head to Australia for her next stage of schooling, but wanted to meet some friends on the east cost before taking off for the land down-under. Because when you move for the military, they don’t move your vehicles for you, my husband and I had to drive separately Glitters came along for the ride, so I wouldn’t go crazy in the car all that way by myself.
While on this trip, our pact came up. I had ruined it for poor Glitters, who was now destined to live alone when she
He had such a good time pretending, that for the past five years, he has counted down to the day that he would get to marry Glitters. At least once a year, he’d bring up how many years he had left “Only 14 more years until I marry Glitters.” I had to break some sad news to him the other day. We got a wedding invitation from Glitters and her fiancé. Glitters is getting married; so my husband doesn’t get to be married to two women. I’m sure he would have regretted that decision eventually anyway. After all, once you’ve been married to one woman for a few years, you learn one is plenty, especially when she has a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day and threatens to move to Australia.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Random Rambling
Not the Momma for the last time:(
I know I know you all are thinking "what is Not the Momma blogging about now" well... not much. I am just trying to fill a spot during a day so DW can get her quota in for the month.
OK... So here DH is walking to work wearing a long sleeve shirt because the temperature dropped to a brisk 75 degrees today. Yes, DH knows a long sleeve shirt in 75 degree weather is insane DH promises DH will wear a jacket next time because DH almost froze to death while walking. DH's hands and feet were a little chilly.
Anyways DH was going to pick up some movies for himself and gifts for the family. While DH was walking to the store DH seen the most interesting sight DH has ever seen.
Before I get two far into the story I need to remind you that DH is in a Muslim country we will call the Island.
In front of the store there is a court yard and in this court yard is something that didn't belong. DH is in the desert and to date the only plant life he has seen is some shrubs the "Tree of Life", I know you can look up where DH is in google, and some palm trees that were Planted by DH's work. So any ways as DH is is walking and there taller than all the buildings is a 30 foot pine tree.
DH knows that Christmas is coming because while at work DH watched all the people try to kill each other to get the black Friday deals on FOX News. DH does a lot of TV watching and Internet surfing while at work, DW hates him for it but that is a blog for future DH.
DH walking by this tree starts to chuckle. You see all the Dirty Jobs done around where DH works are done by TCN, third country nationals, in other words Muslims. You see there must have been twenty TCN's working to put up this tree. Adding lights, ornaments and all that Christmasy stuff to the tree. The best part is, DH is thinking, that half of the people putting up the tree does not even know what Christmas is and the other half only know that Christmas is the time of year when DH's coworkers spend more money in 40 days then they earn in a year. And still they are the ones being forced to put up the Christmas tree for minimum wage.
Now do not get DH wrong he was not laughing at the people putting up the tree he was laughing at the world that would place these people in the position to have to put up the tree. Yes DH knows you have all seen the flicker pictures and are thinking DH am one to talk... but living here has really opened DH's eyes to the haves and the have nots. On the Island you either have it all or you have nothing. Back in home the lines are a little more blurred. DH will save the hole political speech for DH's own blog if he decides to write one.
So DW should be back to posting full time later today. I hope you all liked reading my posts. This is Not the Momma signing off until next time.
OK... So here DH is walking to work wearing a long sleeve shirt because the temperature dropped to a brisk 75 degrees today. Yes, DH knows a long sleeve shirt in 75 degree weather is insane DH promises DH will wear a jacket next time because DH almost froze to death while walking. DH's hands and feet were a little chilly.
Anyways DH was going to pick up some movies for himself and gifts for the family. While DH was walking to the store DH seen the most interesting sight DH has ever seen.
Before I get two far into the story I need to remind you that DH is in a Muslim country we will call the Island.
In front of the store there is a court yard and in this court yard is something that didn't belong. DH is in the desert and to date the only plant life he has seen is some shrubs the "Tree of Life", I know you can look up where DH is in google, and some palm trees that were Planted by DH's work. So any ways as DH is is walking and there taller than all the buildings is a 30 foot pine tree.
DH knows that Christmas is coming because while at work DH watched all the people try to kill each other to get the black Friday deals on FOX News. DH does a lot of TV watching and Internet surfing while at work, DW hates him for it but that is a blog for future DH.
DH walking by this tree starts to chuckle. You see all the Dirty Jobs done around where DH works are done by TCN, third country nationals, in other words Muslims. You see there must have been twenty TCN's working to put up this tree. Adding lights, ornaments and all that Christmasy stuff to the tree. The best part is, DH is thinking, that half of the people putting up the tree does not even know what Christmas is and the other half only know that Christmas is the time of year when DH's coworkers spend more money in 40 days then they earn in a year. And still they are the ones being forced to put up the Christmas tree for minimum wage.
Now do not get DH wrong he was not laughing at the people putting up the tree he was laughing at the world that would place these people in the position to have to put up the tree. Yes DH knows you have all seen the flicker pictures and are thinking DH am one to talk... but living here has really opened DH's eyes to the haves and the have nots. On the Island you either have it all or you have nothing. Back in home the lines are a little more blurred. DH will save the hole political speech for DH's own blog if he decides to write one.
So DW should be back to posting full time later today. I hope you all liked reading my posts. This is Not the Momma signing off until next time.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Not the Momma
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Black Friday.
On the way to breakfast on the day after Thanksgiving:
My Grandpa: Just don’t order the 8 egg omelet.
My Dad: Unless you want to fondue it. With three or four forks.
Me: You mean share it?
Dad. Yah, that’s what I meant.
My Grandpa: Just don’t order the 8 egg omelet.
My Dad: Unless you want to fondue it. With three or four forks.
Me: You mean share it?
Dad. Yah, that’s what I meant.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Random Rambling
Because today is Thanksgiving…
Thanksgiving was always a special holiday growing up. If my mom had found out that someone was spending the holiday alone, they’d be invited over. She was big on that. No one should ever spend the holiday alone, eating some lame TV dinner. When it was time for dinner, we’d all sit down. Before we were allowed to eat, we would have to say one thing that we were most thankful for. When I was a kid, that was easy. I was usually thankful for friends and family, and those sweet potatoes with their marshmallow topping, crunch and gooey at the same time; pure magic that dish. As I got older, though, I learned a bit more about how cruel the world can be, and learned how grateful I really ought to be that I had a warm home, great family, and was never short of food to eat.
This year, will be the hardest yet, not because I can’t think of something to be thankful for, but because I have been blessed in so many ways. I have too much to be thankful for to put it into one short and sweet little comment. This year, I have learned to be thankful for every day. All of the little things that I usually take for granted. The fact that I wake up every morning, have food to eat. I am thankful that I live in a country where I am free to wear what I choose (without being stoned to death), where I can leave my house and go anywhere I please (without a male escort, because my one year old son can go out without an escort, but some women aren’t allowed out without a man).
I am thankful that I have a wonderful, loving husband who has given up so much and worked so hard to provide the life that we have been able to live. He works more hours in one week than most people do in a month. I take him for granted every day. Everyone says to me “oh, it must be hard having your husband gone.” The truth is, that he has it harder than we do. I am thankful that he will be home soon, that we can restart our lives together after eighteen months apart. I am thankful that his career, while some may not agree, has allowed us to have all that we do, our rights, our privileges, and firstly, our freedom.
I am thankful for my beautiful, healthy baby boy. He is alive, with 10 fingers, 10 toes, says Moma and means it. He blows kisses, says good girl and gives GREAT snuggly hugs. I am thankful that he is able to remove all of my books from the cabinet, unfold an entire basket of laundry, dump a glass of water and try to eat a battery all in 30 seconds, because, while it may be aggravating, it means he is healthy, with full use of his body. The baby is thankful that he has learned where his nose is, and that it contains two holes just big enough for his finger. He finds those holes with his fingers often, and usually makes a honk sound to let us know exactly what he is doing.
I am thankful for my family; my wonderful family who has been there for the baby and I over the last year. Without you all, I don’t know if we would have made it through the separation from the husband. You have made the past eighteen months go by more quickly than I could have imagined. I am thankful for all of you, Mom, Dad, Mom R, Dad R, close family friends, brothers, sisters, Waterski Family, friends, and internet buddies. Family to me isn’t defined by marriage or blood, but rather who is important to you. I have learned in the last year that I have a much larger family than I ever imagined.
I am thankful for so much that my heart swells and feels like it is going to burst. I simply cannot list everything that I have to be thankful for, because I have SO MUCH. I am so privileged that my life has become more than I had imagined it would be.
This year, will be the hardest yet, not because I can’t think of something to be thankful for, but because I have been blessed in so many ways. I have too much to be thankful for to put it into one short and sweet little comment. This year, I have learned to be thankful for every day. All of the little things that I usually take for granted. The fact that I wake up every morning, have food to eat. I am thankful that I live in a country where I am free to wear what I choose (without being stoned to death), where I can leave my house and go anywhere I please (without a male escort, because my one year old son can go out without an escort, but some women aren’t allowed out without a man).
I am thankful that I have a wonderful, loving husband who has given up so much and worked so hard to provide the life that we have been able to live. He works more hours in one week than most people do in a month. I take him for granted every day. Everyone says to me “oh, it must be hard having your husband gone.” The truth is, that he has it harder than we do. I am thankful that he will be home soon, that we can restart our lives together after eighteen months apart. I am thankful that his career, while some may not agree, has allowed us to have all that we do, our rights, our privileges, and firstly, our freedom.
I am thankful for my beautiful, healthy baby boy. He is alive, with 10 fingers, 10 toes, says Moma and means it. He blows kisses, says good girl and gives GREAT snuggly hugs. I am thankful that he is able to remove all of my books from the cabinet, unfold an entire basket of laundry, dump a glass of water and try to eat a battery all in 30 seconds, because, while it may be aggravating, it means he is healthy, with full use of his body. The baby is thankful that he has learned where his nose is, and that it contains two holes just big enough for his finger. He finds those holes with his fingers often, and usually makes a honk sound to let us know exactly what he is doing.
I am thankful for my family; my wonderful family who has been there for the baby and I over the last year. Without you all, I don’t know if we would have made it through the separation from the husband. You have made the past eighteen months go by more quickly than I could have imagined. I am thankful for all of you, Mom, Dad, Mom R, Dad R, close family friends, brothers, sisters, Waterski Family, friends, and internet buddies. Family to me isn’t defined by marriage or blood, but rather who is important to you. I have learned in the last year that I have a much larger family than I ever imagined.
I am thankful for so much that my heart swells and feels like it is going to burst. I simply cannot list everything that I have to be thankful for, because I have SO MUCH. I am so privileged that my life has become more than I had imagined it would be.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07
Posts from the weekend.
I hope you all are enjoying the posts my DH is providing you with. I think he should post again one more time. Maybe. We'll see. My posts are not nearly as funny as his, however, they are the posts I wrote this weekend while I was away.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07
What the DW is Thankful for!
Hello all it is me Not the Momma again with another days blog for the DW while she travels. Today we will see what the DW is thankful for this Holiday season.
This year the DW is thankful to be alive after her visit to DH. You see DH lives in a far away land where everyone speaks a funny language... No not California someplace farther and a lot friendlier. Yes, I know that is anywhere else other than California, by the way be nice the DW was born there the only thing she has going for her is that you can't choose where you were born, but the very, very, very, did I say very sunny and very, very, one more very HOT place we will call the Island. Some of you might think oh this is DH making up places, just like in his comic books, but I swear to you that this place does exist in the world today. Imagine a land so baron that you can see where the earth curves to meet the sky. This country is also so small that it is the size of Rhode Island.
But I digress we were talking about DW and her wonderful trip to visit DH. Well one day DH comes home and says well I promised you cheep GOLD and today is the day we are going to the souk, (سوق, also sook, souq, or suq) is a highly fashioned caravan. In the modern Arabic the term refers to markets, to find it.
So the DW, DH and Kid load up the car and head out to find the Gold Souk in their rented car. The thing about the Island is that no one follows the driving suggestions. Thats right the DW and myself believe the Island cops just pull people over at what ever time they like. So after driving like a crazed man for about an hour DH believes he has found the right street.
Now you need to understand the map that DH was using was an artists rendition of the streets of the Island. The actual streets were once one lane Camel paths between buildings that someone paved over. And the Islanders, since there are no rules, park on both sides of the road meant to walk Camel carts down. So this leaves inches on each side of DH's rented car. DH is also driving like the locals, remember there are no rules, so he is doing about 60kph down this road where there are inches of room. By the way DH is going to have fun back in the states driving his big blue truck, so if you see a big blue truck you might want to move or DH might pass you on the shoulder doing 80mph.
Ok, DH is driving down this road looking for his turn to take him to the Gold Souk when all of a sudden the street gets smaller and smaller and then out of the blue there is an opening, with a Mosque with about 10 black flags flying around it. Now you see a little explanation needs to happen now. The Island is split into two parts the for US part and the Not for US part. The Not for US part is partitioned with black flags and if you look like you are from the US then you really shouldn't be there especially in the center where the Mosque was located. At this time DH swears silently under his breath knowing that he most likely just killed DW, seeing as DH believes that even carrying Kid he can still out run DW, since she would be over ran by the crowd while DH and Kid got away. Hearing DH swear DW stops looking at all the buildings from "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" you know the part where they are running down the street with the girl in the basket, and starts looking at where they are. DH being the dumb@$$ that he is told DW all about the Black flag places and what they represented. Well DW starts saying "that person was staring at me" and "that person was flipping me off". To this day DH does not know how DW seen all these things since everyone was covered head to toe with vales over their eyes.
Any how DH finds the road that will take them from this area and starts driving away at an even faster clip. Finally once clear DH starts making his way back towards the roads that will take them back to the Gold Souk to try again because DH is sure that he knows where he missed his turn. Well that turned out to be just as bad the roads they ended up on this time were even smaller than before and did ninety degree turns around tight corners. By this time DH looks over at DW and sees that she is trying to pull her shirt over face and pull her arms into her shirt. DH laughing asks what she is trying to do an the responce is "I feel naked and these people are judging me because of it"
Once again DH finds his way to a road that looks familiar and starts the long trek back to the road that will take them back to the Souk. DW realizing this states "We do not need to go to the Souk! I am so nervous that my palms are sweating". DH realizing DW is probably right heeds her advice and starts the trek home.
So that is the story about how DW is thankful to be alive.
What did we learn from this? DW learned while in a distant land to have accurate road maps before getting in the car with DH. DH learned that if you want to get out of buying expensive Jewelery for DW drive through the ghetto to get there.
Good night everyone. I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving and did not get Malled on black Friday.
This is Not the Momma singing off. DW should be back tomorrow to write about her trip.
This year the DW is thankful to be alive after her visit to DH. You see DH lives in a far away land where everyone speaks a funny language... No not California someplace farther and a lot friendlier. Yes, I know that is anywhere else other than California, by the way be nice the DW was born there the only thing she has going for her is that you can't choose where you were born, but the very, very, very, did I say very sunny and very, very, one more very HOT place we will call the Island. Some of you might think oh this is DH making up places, just like in his comic books, but I swear to you that this place does exist in the world today. Imagine a land so baron that you can see where the earth curves to meet the sky. This country is also so small that it is the size of Rhode Island.
But I digress we were talking about DW and her wonderful trip to visit DH. Well one day DH comes home and says well I promised you cheep GOLD and today is the day we are going to the souk, (سوق, also sook, souq, or suq) is a highly fashioned caravan. In the modern Arabic the term refers to markets, to find it.
So the DW, DH and Kid load up the car and head out to find the Gold Souk in their rented car. The thing about the Island is that no one follows the driving suggestions. Thats right the DW and myself believe the Island cops just pull people over at what ever time they like. So after driving like a crazed man for about an hour DH believes he has found the right street.
Now you need to understand the map that DH was using was an artists rendition of the streets of the Island. The actual streets were once one lane Camel paths between buildings that someone paved over. And the Islanders, since there are no rules, park on both sides of the road meant to walk Camel carts down. So this leaves inches on each side of DH's rented car. DH is also driving like the locals, remember there are no rules, so he is doing about 60kph down this road where there are inches of room. By the way DH is going to have fun back in the states driving his big blue truck, so if you see a big blue truck you might want to move or DH might pass you on the shoulder doing 80mph.
Ok, DH is driving down this road looking for his turn to take him to the Gold Souk when all of a sudden the street gets smaller and smaller and then out of the blue there is an opening, with a Mosque with about 10 black flags flying around it. Now you see a little explanation needs to happen now. The Island is split into two parts the for US part and the Not for US part. The Not for US part is partitioned with black flags and if you look like you are from the US then you really shouldn't be there especially in the center where the Mosque was located. At this time DH swears silently under his breath knowing that he most likely just killed DW, seeing as DH believes that even carrying Kid he can still out run DW, since she would be over ran by the crowd while DH and Kid got away. Hearing DH swear DW stops looking at all the buildings from "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" you know the part where they are running down the street with the girl in the basket, and starts looking at where they are. DH being the dumb@$$ that he is told DW all about the Black flag places and what they represented. Well DW starts saying "that person was staring at me" and "that person was flipping me off". To this day DH does not know how DW seen all these things since everyone was covered head to toe with vales over their eyes.
Any how DH finds the road that will take them from this area and starts driving away at an even faster clip. Finally once clear DH starts making his way back towards the roads that will take them back to the Gold Souk to try again because DH is sure that he knows where he missed his turn. Well that turned out to be just as bad the roads they ended up on this time were even smaller than before and did ninety degree turns around tight corners. By this time DH looks over at DW and sees that she is trying to pull her shirt over face and pull her arms into her shirt. DH laughing asks what she is trying to do an the responce is "I feel naked and these people are judging me because of it"
Once again DH finds his way to a road that looks familiar and starts the long trek back to the road that will take them back to the Souk. DW realizing this states "We do not need to go to the Souk! I am so nervous that my palms are sweating". DH realizing DW is probably right heeds her advice and starts the trek home.
So that is the story about how DW is thankful to be alive.
What did we learn from this? DW learned while in a distant land to have accurate road maps before getting in the car with DH. DH learned that if you want to get out of buying expensive Jewelery for DW drive through the ghetto to get there.
Good night everyone. I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving and did not get Malled on black Friday.
This is Not the Momma singing off. DW should be back tomorrow to write about her trip.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Not the Momma
Friday, November 23, 2007
A real Time for Thanks!!!
Hello all it is me Not the Momma again. The DW informed me that I needed to tell you all what I was thankful for So...
There once was this guy, we will call him DH for now, who had this big meeting with his boss, and if you knew DH's profession you would know this was a big meeting. Well to prepare for this meeting DH took his Uniform over to the Dry Cleaners. A couple of days later, the morning of the meeting to be precise, DH returned to the cleaners to pick up his Uniform. He paid the clerk and when to his office space to change.
DH has the same routine, comes from a mundane job, of showing up 10min before he needs to be there. This gives DH just enough time to get dressed and make it to where he is going without waisting any valuable "DH" time.
So there DH was in the Head, the restroom in sea jargon, changing his clothes. DH hangs up his uniform fresh from the cleaner and removes the protective plastic bag they put on it. Then removes the uniform from the hangers and lays it out on the bench. First DH pulls off his Civies then adorns the uniform completing his transformation to his work persona. Except that day DH notices that his pants look a little smaller while holding them up. DH thinks to himself that this must be an illusion and commences donning the pants. DH soon learns that the pants not only look smaller but they are smaller... considerably smaller. Now you already know that the clock is ticking down from 10min. At this point DH starts to panic. DH has two options 1) try to explain to his 8 bosses, yes "I have eight bosses Bob", that his pants shrunk in the cleaners seeing that this is a pair he has never warn before, and try to reschedule with the big boss. or 2) wear the pants as is looking like he sprayed the pants on and he plans to trek through the a swamp, a reference to how high the pants road up.
Well being in partly the Work mode DH decides to suck it up and wear the pants chalking up the experience to ensure that he will always be early from now on... at least on days where important meetings are being conducted.
Now you are all probably wondering what this has to do with being thankful... Well you see DH took a big blow to his ego. His job has always said he was fat being 6'5" at 250lbs. This and the ribbing DH took from his peers really crushed him.
Then a few days later DH gets an email that says "DH my name is HD and I believe I have a pair of your pants". DH rushed home to check the name on his pants. And there it was as big as day a spelling of DH's name but spelled HD. DH realizes then that these are not his fat pants and he actually fit into pants two sizes smaller than what he normally wears. This was like a weight lifted off DH's shoulders. DH had thought those were his skiny pants from a time long lost.
So you see there is something for DH to be thankful for this Holiday season. Thats right DH does not have spend $'s on new pants.
Happy Thanksgiving from Not the Momma, DW and Kid
There once was this guy, we will call him DH for now, who had this big meeting with his boss, and if you knew DH's profession you would know this was a big meeting. Well to prepare for this meeting DH took his Uniform over to the Dry Cleaners. A couple of days later, the morning of the meeting to be precise, DH returned to the cleaners to pick up his Uniform. He paid the clerk and when to his office space to change.
DH has the same routine, comes from a mundane job, of showing up 10min before he needs to be there. This gives DH just enough time to get dressed and make it to where he is going without waisting any valuable "DH" time.
So there DH was in the Head, the restroom in sea jargon, changing his clothes. DH hangs up his uniform fresh from the cleaner and removes the protective plastic bag they put on it. Then removes the uniform from the hangers and lays it out on the bench. First DH pulls off his Civies then adorns the uniform completing his transformation to his work persona. Except that day DH notices that his pants look a little smaller while holding them up. DH thinks to himself that this must be an illusion and commences donning the pants. DH soon learns that the pants not only look smaller but they are smaller... considerably smaller. Now you already know that the clock is ticking down from 10min. At this point DH starts to panic. DH has two options 1) try to explain to his 8 bosses, yes "I have eight bosses Bob", that his pants shrunk in the cleaners seeing that this is a pair he has never warn before, and try to reschedule with the big boss. or 2) wear the pants as is looking like he sprayed the pants on and he plans to trek through the a swamp, a reference to how high the pants road up.
Well being in partly the Work mode DH decides to suck it up and wear the pants chalking up the experience to ensure that he will always be early from now on... at least on days where important meetings are being conducted.
Now you are all probably wondering what this has to do with being thankful... Well you see DH took a big blow to his ego. His job has always said he was fat being 6'5" at 250lbs. This and the ribbing DH took from his peers really crushed him.
Then a few days later DH gets an email that says "DH my name is HD and I believe I have a pair of your pants". DH rushed home to check the name on his pants. And there it was as big as day a spelling of DH's name but spelled HD. DH realizes then that these are not his fat pants and he actually fit into pants two sizes smaller than what he normally wears. This was like a weight lifted off DH's shoulders. DH had thought those were his skiny pants from a time long lost.
So you see there is something for DH to be thankful for this Holiday season. Thats right DH does not have spend $'s on new pants.
Happy Thanksgiving from Not the Momma, DW and Kid
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Not the Momma
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Not the Momma filling in again:)
Hello all. Yes it is me Not the Momma once again. While the DW is on vacation I am filling in. Before I forget Happy Thanksgiving! And do not worry about me they had turkey at the food court and people also brought turkey to work. Buy the end of the watch everyone was so hopped up on triptiphan (sorry about the spelling) that all anyone could do was sit in their chairs and moan and pray that our reliefs came soon.
Well I need to go to work. Happy Thanksgiving all!
Not the Momma away!
Well I need to go to work. Happy Thanksgiving all!
Not the Momma away!
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
Not the Momma
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
From the Road.
Have I told you how much I love Hampton Inns? For the price of a Holiday Inn, you get so much more. And nice big fluffly beds and duvets. mmmmm duuuuveeeeettts.
I apologize if the post yesterday sounded so serious that some of you are thinking that I need help. My mom read the post and within seconds was on the phone, calling me to see if I was okay. I feel bad about that. She thought that, perhaps, I was trying to be funny. In no way, shape, or form was that meant to be funny. It was meant to be the dead truth, but it wasn't meant to cause alarm. These episodes don't happen often, just more often when I'm stressed. Stressed? Am I stressed? Why would I have reason to be stressed?
1) We are traveling in the winter time for Thanksgiving, NORTH to Idaho.
2) My husband is coming home. To live with us. non-stop. For 2 years. No matter how much I love him, and how much I am waiting for that day, there is stress involved with that. I haven't lived with him for more than a few weeks for a years.
3) We are getting ready to move half way across the country.
4) We are going to be traveling with a fifth wheel, in the WINTER for about 2000 miles.
5) My husband is going to be pulling a fifth wheel.
6) We are moving.
Yeah, stress? that's not even all of it. So yeah.. and to top it off, we drove in the snow last night through part of Wyoming. That was fun... NOT.
I apologize if the post yesterday sounded so serious that some of you are thinking that I need help. My mom read the post and within seconds was on the phone, calling me to see if I was okay. I feel bad about that. She thought that, perhaps, I was trying to be funny. In no way, shape, or form was that meant to be funny. It was meant to be the dead truth, but it wasn't meant to cause alarm. These episodes don't happen often, just more often when I'm stressed. Stressed? Am I stressed? Why would I have reason to be stressed?
1) We are traveling in the winter time for Thanksgiving, NORTH to Idaho.
2) My husband is coming home. To live with us. non-stop. For 2 years. No matter how much I love him, and how much I am waiting for that day, there is stress involved with that. I haven't lived with him for more than a few weeks for a years.
3) We are getting ready to move half way across the country.
4) We are going to be traveling with a fifth wheel, in the WINTER for about 2000 miles.
5) My husband is going to be pulling a fifth wheel.
6) We are moving.
Yeah, stress? that's not even all of it. So yeah.. and to top it off, we drove in the snow last night through part of Wyoming. That was fun... NOT.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07,
travel
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Panic Attacks
Lately, I've been a big ball of stress just ready to explode. We saw that the other day, when I went crazy and tried to organize the pantry. It is odd to feel the panic bubbling up inside. Your heart races, you start sweating. That, I can deal with. The worst part is when your mind goes so fast through so many things that you can't concentrate on anything. When I get like this, I'll start on one task, and get partly finished, when I'll think of something else, and maniacally decide I have to move on to the next. This sometimes helps me to get the house clean, but usually not, because when I'm in this mode, I tend to clean like a tornado. I'll get some of the mess clean, I'll get started but move on to the next before I've finished.
I don't know the best way to describe the feeling, and maybe I'm the only whack job who gets this way. Imagine my body is a glass jar. I can feel the stress start in my feet, and as things get worse, it bubbles up, like a boiling liquid. I start to panic when it gets to my stomach. If I don't do something to release the stress, or get some time to relax, it bubbles up to my chest and into my neck. When it gets to that point, I start doing crazy things, like re-organizing closets and losing my cool. That is how I let off steam. If I don't do something, It reaches my brain and I explode. Really, I do. I start crying and can't stop until I fall asleep.
I suppose some would say this is ADD, or some crazy form of manic depression, some might say I'm just crazy. I don't know what it is, but I've been dealing with it sufficiently enough for the last 27 years. But lately, this has been happening more often. I can't say that it isn't without reason. The holidays are fast approaching, I have a giant move to coordinate, along with the return of my husband after 18 months of living apart. He isn't returning to the skinny wife he left, but a chubbier version, who is ruled by the one-year-old in the family. Work has also been busier. I have been working close to 40 hours per week designing, WHILE tyring to keep the child entertained. That in itself, isn't easy. Right now, we are at about belly-button level on my stress-o-meter. Hopefully by the time we leave for Idaho today, I'll be back down into my knees, even if it is only until Monday.
I don't know the best way to describe the feeling, and maybe I'm the only whack job who gets this way. Imagine my body is a glass jar. I can feel the stress start in my feet, and as things get worse, it bubbles up, like a boiling liquid. I start to panic when it gets to my stomach. If I don't do something to release the stress, or get some time to relax, it bubbles up to my chest and into my neck. When it gets to that point, I start doing crazy things, like re-organizing closets and losing my cool. That is how I let off steam. If I don't do something, It reaches my brain and I explode. Really, I do. I start crying and can't stop until I fall asleep.
I suppose some would say this is ADD, or some crazy form of manic depression, some might say I'm just crazy. I don't know what it is, but I've been dealing with it sufficiently enough for the last 27 years. But lately, this has been happening more often. I can't say that it isn't without reason. The holidays are fast approaching, I have a giant move to coordinate, along with the return of my husband after 18 months of living apart. He isn't returning to the skinny wife he left, but a chubbier version, who is ruled by the one-year-old in the family. Work has also been busier. I have been working close to 40 hours per week designing, WHILE tyring to keep the child entertained. That in itself, isn't easy. Right now, we are at about belly-button level on my stress-o-meter. Hopefully by the time we leave for Idaho today, I'll be back down into my knees, even if it is only until Monday.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07
Monday, November 19, 2007
iGo a No-Go, but Radio Shack.. yeah.
After the great computer disaster of 2007 (the power cord going kaput in Bahrain), I got home and bought an iGo power cord. It was about 30 bucks more than buying the actual cord from Dell, but the iGo was better. The Dell cord was 80 bucks, and it was only the converter, the power cord that goes from the wall to the converter was not included. The Dell took several days to ship. The Dell only worked in a regular plug. The iGo, I can buy that at Radio Shack. I could have it NOW, it had both cord pieces, AND it came with a handy-dandy plug for the car as well. This morning I got up picked up my computer and noticed that the plug for the computer was busted. How in the world that happened I have no clue. I figured it was no big deal, they sell those tips, I should be able to go to Radio Shack, pick up a new tip for about ten bucks. Smart person that I am, I called them first. I explained my situation, how I was going to cry, because I do all of my work from the laptop, yadda yadda. He looked up where I could buy tip 103 for the iGo. Apparently tip 103 for the iGo, is a NO-Go. You can ONLY buy that tip with the cord. The one I bought. The most expensive cord set they sell. Great. Nice. Wonderful. After my sob story to the clerk, he said that I should bring in the "faulty" set, and he would exchange it for me. That is something they aren't supposed to do. But really, I'd only had the thing a week. Guess I need to be more careful with my cords. I love the new iGo. It will be great on car trips, but those tips. They need to be sold seperately.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Ugh.
We're back to typing out a post, deleting it, starting a new one, deleting it, etc. I really should carry a notepad around with me so that I can write down my sudden epiphanies and thoughts. I can't count the number of times, I've thought "I'm going to write about that tonight." Then, "tonight" comes, and my thoughts are gone. I had three seperate "blog thoughts" today.
And now, the baby wakes, and I must leave you. I will write more tomorrow. Hopefully. If the baby doesn't eat my notepad.
And now, the baby wakes, and I must leave you. I will write more tomorrow. Hopefully. If the baby doesn't eat my notepad.
Labels:
NaBloPoMo07
Saturday, November 17, 2007
YOU pick the Topics!!
Someone suggested that I let you, my friends, pick the topics that I will write about. After writing three seperate entries for today, and trashing them all for various reasons (including but not limited to: 1) no one cares that the generator tipped over in my car and leaked gas all over the back, eating the rubber backing on the mat. 2) no one cares that I bought a generator. 3) I can't really write about the baby again, because while he is terribly cute, I can only write mushy things SO many times before people think I'm a total dork and 4) If my husband finds out the generator tipped over and spilled gas in the car, he might have a heart attack, and that might kill him, so then he wouldn't come home, and that would suck, and 5) I can't remember the funny conversation my parents had this morning. I can tell you it was similar to the "fart" conversation from the other night) , I have decided that letting YOU pick the topics is one HECK of a GOOD idea! Of course, I'm not going to be mean to anyone (except Ernie Chambers), I won't divulge anything too personal, and if it involves my family, I will have to get permission before I share anything with the world. Here goes.
The first hmmm.. I don't know.. TEN people to comment with their request will be the winners. Of course, if you request something unreasonable, I'll move on to the next person. I'll post the winners when there are ten requests, well, as soon as I have ten reasonable requests.
The first hmmm.. I don't know.. TEN people to comment with their request will be the winners. Of course, if you request something unreasonable, I'll move on to the next person. I'll post the winners when there are ten requests, well, as soon as I have ten reasonable requests.
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