Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Upside-Down..er...Rightside-Up
Our sweet #6 is currently sitting rightside up. I know I'm asking for it, but does anyone have any ideas for getting a breech baby to turn around and behave?
Monday, March 30, 2009
Hell: The Inside Look
#1 just finished reading The Screwtape Letters and was told to write a page and a half about what Hell looks like. It was too brilliant not to share.
What happens if you get turned away from the pearly white gates? Who claims you? Where do you go? There is one answer, Hell. Imagine for a moment that you have died. You are falling down through a dark abyss. When you hit the bottom, it’s incredibly hot and dry. You wander around and you see a huge building bigger than any that you have ever seen before. You wander inside to see a Sign-in desk. You walk up and peer over the desk to see a twisted looking person, or is it a person? No, it’s a demon. He grins at you evilly and points down a hall. You mosey on down in that direction fanning yourself, the heat is really getting to you. After a while, you see a door with your name on it. Curious, you walk in. It’s even hotter in here, you turn to leave, but the door is gone. Panicking you turn and see everybody that you have ever wronged is standing there. You ask them why they are there, but they don’t answer the question. Instead, one by one, they recount and describe all of the evils you have done to them, over and over again. It’s scorching hot, and now you have to listen to all of these people, great. Now, this goes on for a long time, but after a while, they leave. Now you are alone in the room. You can hear rhythmic typing. You try to think. Where are you? What’s going on? While you are pondering this however, the typing is getting louder. It slowly tortures you. The typing continues until you are shivering from frustration, then, it stops. It is now so hot that all you want is a drop of water, but there is none. You get up and try to explore the room a bit, bit it is completely empty. You turn around just to see the person who annoyed you the most in your life. So now you have to sit there with your chin resting on your fist, to this annoying jabber-jaw who goes on and on about how the two of you are best friends and that nothing can separate the two of you now. While this is going on, you are thinking to yourself. You still aren’t sure where you are or what is going on. Finally, after what seems to be a millennia, the windy person leaves. You think, at least it can’t get worse from here. But then, in comes a strange person who seems familiar, but you aren’t sure who it could be. The person sits down, but doesn’t speak to you. You thought that the noise was bad, but the silence is even worse. The person stares at you. You can feel the person looking at you, its eyes boring into you. You begin to sweat. The silence is killing you and you finally scream out, “I can’t take this anymore!” The figure disappeared. In his place, you see something so terrible, so evil, that it can’t be anything but Satan himself. He grins at you with a demented looking face. You finally realize where you are, Hell. Your soul is theirs now. You are taken away and your soul is feasted on for eternity.
The End
What happens if you get turned away from the pearly white gates? Who claims you? Where do you go? There is one answer, Hell. Imagine for a moment that you have died. You are falling down through a dark abyss. When you hit the bottom, it’s incredibly hot and dry. You wander around and you see a huge building bigger than any that you have ever seen before. You wander inside to see a Sign-in desk. You walk up and peer over the desk to see a twisted looking person, or is it a person? No, it’s a demon. He grins at you evilly and points down a hall. You mosey on down in that direction fanning yourself, the heat is really getting to you. After a while, you see a door with your name on it. Curious, you walk in. It’s even hotter in here, you turn to leave, but the door is gone. Panicking you turn and see everybody that you have ever wronged is standing there. You ask them why they are there, but they don’t answer the question. Instead, one by one, they recount and describe all of the evils you have done to them, over and over again. It’s scorching hot, and now you have to listen to all of these people, great. Now, this goes on for a long time, but after a while, they leave. Now you are alone in the room. You can hear rhythmic typing. You try to think. Where are you? What’s going on? While you are pondering this however, the typing is getting louder. It slowly tortures you. The typing continues until you are shivering from frustration, then, it stops. It is now so hot that all you want is a drop of water, but there is none. You get up and try to explore the room a bit, bit it is completely empty. You turn around just to see the person who annoyed you the most in your life. So now you have to sit there with your chin resting on your fist, to this annoying jabber-jaw who goes on and on about how the two of you are best friends and that nothing can separate the two of you now. While this is going on, you are thinking to yourself. You still aren’t sure where you are or what is going on. Finally, after what seems to be a millennia, the windy person leaves. You think, at least it can’t get worse from here. But then, in comes a strange person who seems familiar, but you aren’t sure who it could be. The person sits down, but doesn’t speak to you. You thought that the noise was bad, but the silence is even worse. The person stares at you. You can feel the person looking at you, its eyes boring into you. You begin to sweat. The silence is killing you and you finally scream out, “I can’t take this anymore!” The figure disappeared. In his place, you see something so terrible, so evil, that it can’t be anything but Satan himself. He grins at you with a demented looking face. You finally realize where you are, Hell. Your soul is theirs now. You are taken away and your soul is feasted on for eternity.
The End
Hey, Guess what...
We had an ultrasound this morning, and there was no denying what we saw.
The boys are thrilled, the girls are depressed. I told them that they have until August to get over it and then they have to be happy with the baby we've got. I doubt it will take that long.
I'll admit to wishing for a little pink when we first saw the little guy, but then deciding that blue was a nice color, too.
We're nothing if not predictable, I guess. We have a pattern going here "girl, boy, boy, girl, boy, boy." As my eldest pointed out, the next girl makes them a palindrome. I like a kid who plans ahead!
Friday, March 27, 2009
It's Friday...It's a Haiku
Found my Easter dress
complete with clever bonnet
no one else has it
Fashion forward dress
how to look like a model
wear food don't eat it
Thursday, March 26, 2009
He Still Has that New Priest Smell
‘You never know what the Lord has in store,’ says new priest, age 80
Gérard Lafrenière knew 65 years ago that he wanted to be ordained
Awesome story. Go here to read it all.
A tip of the hat to the Curt Jester
Gérard Lafrenière knew 65 years ago that he wanted to be ordained
Awesome story. Go here to read it all.
A tip of the hat to the Curt Jester
Why I hired a tutor
My days were beginning to feel a lot like helping Barney Fife remember the Preamble, a lot of work for not a lot of result. It was time to call in the cavalry. The cavalry at our house comes in the form of a 16 year old high school sophomore who my sons adore.
He shows up every Wednesday afternoon at 3:15 and stays for an hour and a half. Wednesdays are my new favorite day of the week. The living room gets clean because he needs it for teaching space, and I need a reason to get things done. My two eldest sons do their work all week so that they can show their hero what they have learned.
He spent an hour yesterday teaching #2 how to divide decimals. I had beaten my head against that wall all week without making a dent. An hour after the tutor arrived, my son understood about those "little dots", where to put them and how to use them. #3 is writing legibly after being shown how to hold a pencil "the cool way" and the "shortcuts" to making his letters. I showed him those things and he ignored me. The tutor shows them and that's the way it should be done.
Am I upset that they learn from a 16 year old boy better than they do from me? Nope. It's temporary motivation. I am learning that boys need a role model to follow, an example to emulate. I'm just glad I found one who is willing to come and spend an hour with my sons teaching them the things they don't want to learn from me. It's the best money I've ever spent on pampering myself. Peace of mind - priceless.
(The video is dedicated with love to my good friend Peace who lets me call her when the duck is chasing me.)
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
The Game
At our house, the children play a game. I invented it. It's called "For this one moment in time let's pretend that Mom has a clue." It's a fun game and saves lots of time. There really are no rules, but I'll give you an example of how we play it.
me: "The word bus only has one 's' in it."
#3: "Are you sure? Because it sounds like it has two."
me: "I'm sure, just one 's.'"
#3: "Because, Mom, it really sounds like there should be two. Listen 'Busssssssss.'"
me: "Play the game."
#3: (Skeptically) "Okay..." Erases the extra 's.'
Playing the game saves us a lot of arguments. I wish more people would learn how to play it. People like the dentist's office who called this morning to confirm my appointment for next week and mispronounced our last name.
me: "I know our name ends with a 'ch', but you pronounce it like a 'k.'"
her: "Really? That's weird."
me: "I know, but that's how it's said."
her: "Why is that? Why not just spell it with a 'ck' instead?"
me: "Because then it wouldn't be our name."
her: "But it would be easier to say."
If she were my child, I would simply say, "I know, but let's play the game" and that would be the end of it. She would simply shrug and go on instead of debating spelling and pronunciation with me at 8:00 in the morning. I'm not ready to think that hard until at least 10:00.
Think about how much time I would save on inane phone calls and arguments with the lawn guy if only they would "play the game."
I'm really not as dumb as I guess I must look and/or sound. Tired and distracted do not make me a complete idiot. They simply make me sound like one. I can't help that, at least not today.
This is my new mission for the day. I'm going to teach my game to all the parents in the world so that they too can make an end run around their children's arguments. Parents aren't as completely clueless as our children seem to think. Disagree with me? It's time for you to play the game.
me: "The word bus only has one 's' in it."
#3: "Are you sure? Because it sounds like it has two."
me: "I'm sure, just one 's.'"
#3: "Because, Mom, it really sounds like there should be two. Listen 'Busssssssss.'"
me: "Play the game."
#3: (Skeptically) "Okay..." Erases the extra 's.'
Playing the game saves us a lot of arguments. I wish more people would learn how to play it. People like the dentist's office who called this morning to confirm my appointment for next week and mispronounced our last name.
me: "I know our name ends with a 'ch', but you pronounce it like a 'k.'"
her: "Really? That's weird."
me: "I know, but that's how it's said."
her: "Why is that? Why not just spell it with a 'ck' instead?"
me: "Because then it wouldn't be our name."
her: "But it would be easier to say."
If she were my child, I would simply say, "I know, but let's play the game" and that would be the end of it. She would simply shrug and go on instead of debating spelling and pronunciation with me at 8:00 in the morning. I'm not ready to think that hard until at least 10:00.
Think about how much time I would save on inane phone calls and arguments with the lawn guy if only they would "play the game."
I'm really not as dumb as I guess I must look and/or sound. Tired and distracted do not make me a complete idiot. They simply make me sound like one. I can't help that, at least not today.
This is my new mission for the day. I'm going to teach my game to all the parents in the world so that they too can make an end run around their children's arguments. Parents aren't as completely clueless as our children seem to think. Disagree with me? It's time for you to play the game.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Come Again?
We are increasing our life insurance amount from what seems like a lot of money to a lot more money. Let me be honest here. The only way to get someone to take all 6 children is to flat out bribe them.
The lady from State Farm called today to verify my health information. It was going well until she asked me, "Have you ever been treated by a health care professional for a serious neck injury or amputation?"
"Excuse me?"
"Have you ever been treated by a health care professional for a serious neck injury or amputation?"
"How do you live with a neck amputation?"
"What?"
"You asked if I had ever been treated for a neck injury or amputation. I was asking how one would still be living after a neck amputation."
"That's not what the question says."
"My mistake. Read it again."
"Have you ever been treated by a health care professional for a serious neck injury or amputation?" I tried not to laugh. I was not entirely successful.
Thank you State Farm for the English lesson of the day. We have spent the last hour rewriting your question to make it actually say what you intended for it to say. I love home schooling. You can find lessons anywhere.
The lady from State Farm called today to verify my health information. It was going well until she asked me, "Have you ever been treated by a health care professional for a serious neck injury or amputation?"
"Excuse me?"
"Have you ever been treated by a health care professional for a serious neck injury or amputation?"
"How do you live with a neck amputation?"
"What?"
"You asked if I had ever been treated for a neck injury or amputation. I was asking how one would still be living after a neck amputation."
"That's not what the question says."
"My mistake. Read it again."
"Have you ever been treated by a health care professional for a serious neck injury or amputation?" I tried not to laugh. I was not entirely successful.
Thank you State Farm for the English lesson of the day. We have spent the last hour rewriting your question to make it actually say what you intended for it to say. I love home schooling. You can find lessons anywhere.
Stop the Scandal
From Fr. Longenecker's blog Standing on My Head
The good Padre writes it much better than I could this morning, so I've copied him. I hope he doesn't mind. If he does, I hope he forgives me.
The campaign to stop Obama speaking at Notre Dame commencement is gathering pace. Tonight over 45,000 people have signed the petition asking ND to disinvite this most pro abortion President from speaking and receiving an honorary degree.
We invite you to sign the petition here. I would also ask you, if you are a blogger, to link to this site and encourage your readers to sign. At this site you will also be given email and postal addresses for your involvement.
If you are a non-Catholic reading this blog, network this through to our separated brothers and sisters who share with us the horror at the crime of abortion in our land. Please ask them to sign the petition and voice their own views.
If I were not a Catholic Christian I would get involved and write to Fr Jenkins thus: "Dear Fr Jenkins, I am not a Catholic, but I respect and agree with the Catholic Church's courageous stance against the crime of abortion. I am surprised and disappointed that the premier Catholic college in America should honor the most pro abortion politician ever elected to high office by inviting him to be your commencement speaker and to receive an honorary doctorate. Sir, stand up for your own church and its teachings before it is too late!"
The good Padre writes it much better than I could this morning, so I've copied him. I hope he doesn't mind. If he does, I hope he forgives me.
Quote for Today
As political and economic freedom diminishes, sexual freedom tends compensatingly to increase. And the dictator will do well to encourage that freedom. In conjunction with the freedom to daydream under the influence of dope and movies and the radio, it will help to reconcile his subjects to the servitude which is their fate.-Aldous Huxley, novelist
Monday, March 23, 2009
Que Sera Sera
We find out the baby's sex a week from today. I don't care. I genuinely don't, which is very strange for me. Usually at this point of pregnancy I am a lunatic waiting to find out pink or blue. People keep saying, "You want a girl so your numbers are even, 3 boys and 3 girls, right?" I shrug my shoulders and say, "eh."
This puts me right up there for Mother of the Year, I just know it. Absolutely no curiosity about our sweet #6. I don't wonder about eye color or hair color. I do hope it has my nose, mine is much cuter than the Computer Guy's German one, but I don't need to know if he/she does.
Pregnancy has become routine for me. I've done it so many times that I keep looking for the new. No matter how exciting the end is, it's hard to get excited about a routine. It's also hard to explain indifference and not sound as if I'm heartless. I want the ultrasound guy to tell us the baby is healthy. I do care about that. I just don't give a fig for the rest of it.
Our baby will come in August, and we will adore him or her. I have no doubt about that because the little booger is already well loved. We will count fingers and toes and look to see if the "plumbing" is indoor (girl) or outdoor (boy). We will snuggle and coo and think that that first cry is one of the greatest things we ever heard.
I know these things will be true. It's just a little routine now. I said to the Computer Guy and the Little Kids, "Let's change things up and be surprised this time. Wouldn't it be fun to be surprised?" #1 looked at me raised an eyebrow and replied, "I'm not sure that all the crack you're smoking is good for the baby."
I'll take that as a no, and where did that sarcasm come from? She must get it from her father.
Monday. Boy or Girl. I'm taking bets now.
This puts me right up there for Mother of the Year, I just know it. Absolutely no curiosity about our sweet #6. I don't wonder about eye color or hair color. I do hope it has my nose, mine is much cuter than the Computer Guy's German one, but I don't need to know if he/she does.
Pregnancy has become routine for me. I've done it so many times that I keep looking for the new. No matter how exciting the end is, it's hard to get excited about a routine. It's also hard to explain indifference and not sound as if I'm heartless. I want the ultrasound guy to tell us the baby is healthy. I do care about that. I just don't give a fig for the rest of it.
Our baby will come in August, and we will adore him or her. I have no doubt about that because the little booger is already well loved. We will count fingers and toes and look to see if the "plumbing" is indoor (girl) or outdoor (boy). We will snuggle and coo and think that that first cry is one of the greatest things we ever heard.
I know these things will be true. It's just a little routine now. I said to the Computer Guy and the Little Kids, "Let's change things up and be surprised this time. Wouldn't it be fun to be surprised?" #1 looked at me raised an eyebrow and replied, "I'm not sure that all the crack you're smoking is good for the baby."
I'll take that as a no, and where did that sarcasm come from? She must get it from her father.
Monday. Boy or Girl. I'm taking bets now.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Hey, Man....I Think We Need a Haiku
Spring Break's last hurrah
studies and to-do lists gone
all back tomorrow
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Oh, the Humanity
I had my monthly OB appointment yesterday with my midwife. This time, I took the 4 youngest Little Kids with me. The eldest was off doing some kind of Irish dance performance or something with her two best friends. She missed seeing #6. We didn't. Lucky us!
#5 freaked out a bit in the exam room. He doesn't like "new", and was on the verge of tears the entire time. I tried to explain that she was the nice lady who delivered him, and that it would be okay. He's 23 months old and didn't seem to care. I finally sat him up on the exam table next to me and he calmed down a bit.
The office nurse came in and reminded me that now that I'm old I should think about getting blood tests to check for birth defects while I'm not too far along and we still have options. I politely informed her that there are no "options" as this is our baby and we look forward to meeting him/her. I'm a bit of a puzzle to her. She said, "But you have other children to think about."
I smiled and said, "I have all of them to think about." She shook her head and walked out of the room.
Then came the midwife with the ultrasound machine. (Hooray!) The children all piled around me to get their first peek at our littlest one.
It was clearly sleeping. Nestled in peacefully and curled up in the fetal position. Then the machine beeped and #5 screamed.
#6 threw its arms wide in the classic infant startle. Then, the little hands flew instinctively up to cover the ears from a big brother's offensive racket.
The little face turned towards the direction of the crying brother, and it's mouth opened slightly. Then, its chin began to quiver. Clearly, obviously crying.
Awakened from a nap, scared, and disturbed, our sweet #6 cried. Undeniably sobbed while holding hands tightly over tiny ears.
We all laughed at the sweet humanity of the moment which only made my two babies cry harder. 17 weeks into pregnancy. Barely 4 months. Hearing. Responding. Displaying emotion. Reacting logically. A blob of tissue? Product of conception? No. Thinking, feeling, emoting. Human.
#5 freaked out a bit in the exam room. He doesn't like "new", and was on the verge of tears the entire time. I tried to explain that she was the nice lady who delivered him, and that it would be okay. He's 23 months old and didn't seem to care. I finally sat him up on the exam table next to me and he calmed down a bit.
The office nurse came in and reminded me that now that I'm old I should think about getting blood tests to check for birth defects while I'm not too far along and we still have options. I politely informed her that there are no "options" as this is our baby and we look forward to meeting him/her. I'm a bit of a puzzle to her. She said, "But you have other children to think about."
I smiled and said, "I have all of them to think about." She shook her head and walked out of the room.
Then came the midwife with the ultrasound machine. (Hooray!) The children all piled around me to get their first peek at our littlest one.
It was clearly sleeping. Nestled in peacefully and curled up in the fetal position. Then the machine beeped and #5 screamed.
#6 threw its arms wide in the classic infant startle. Then, the little hands flew instinctively up to cover the ears from a big brother's offensive racket.
The little face turned towards the direction of the crying brother, and it's mouth opened slightly. Then, its chin began to quiver. Clearly, obviously crying.
Awakened from a nap, scared, and disturbed, our sweet #6 cried. Undeniably sobbed while holding hands tightly over tiny ears.
We all laughed at the sweet humanity of the moment which only made my two babies cry harder. 17 weeks into pregnancy. Barely 4 months. Hearing. Responding. Displaying emotion. Reacting logically. A blob of tissue? Product of conception? No. Thinking, feeling, emoting. Human.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
How to speak Irish
Borrowed from June. Thank you June. Now don't come hittin' me with that shelaighle just cuz I ripped ya off. Beep.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Do you know your mom?
So I was roaming around the internet yesterday and I came across this adorable post. And I stole it. And administered it to my children and then answered the questions myself. If you like idea this then steal it too!
The interviewees:
#4 is 4
#3 is 7
#2 is 9
#1 is 12
1. What is something mom always says to you?
#4 - I don't know
#3 - Do your schoolwork
#2 - Do your school
#1 - Go clean your room.
the Mom - Why did you do that?
2. What makes mom happy?
#4 - A clean house
#3 - The new baby
#2 - Love
#1 - A clean house
the Mom - sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. Oh and nachos. Mmmmmmm...nachos
3. What makes mom sad?
#4 -
#3 - Not having a new baby. When we don't have one
#2 - Scaring her
#1 - When the boys lie
the Mom - the thought of my children growing up and moving out. Seriously
4. What does your mom do to make you laugh?
#4 - Tickles me
#3 - Sings Bohemian Rhapsody
#2 - I don't know
#1 - Tells jokes
the Mom - I make faces at them while I'm filling up the car with gas and sing Bohemian Rhapsody.
5. What was your mom like as a child?
#4 - I don't know. I wasn't there
#3 - I can't really decide
#2 - Very beautiful and smart
#1 - Clever
the Mom - Pretty much like now, but shorter and not as smart.
6. How old is your mom?
#4 - 7
#3 - 90
#2 - thirty-three?
#1 - (Mumbles something)
the Mom - #1 is right.
7. How tall is your mom?
#4 - I can't measure
#3 - 40 inches
#2 - 3 yards high
#1 - 5' 4"
the Mom - #1 has it! The others need to learn to measure.
8. What is her favorite thing to do?
#4 - Spank bad children
#3 - Go out and eat lunch with somebody with her children
#2 - Have a clean house
#1 - Talk to people
the Mom - Hang out with my friends and talk politics. We could solve the world's problems if only they would listen to us.
9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
#4 -
$3 - Buys stuff
#2 - Lay in bed almost all day
#1 - Clean the house
the Mom - sleep and read a good book and then sleep some more
10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
#4 - I don't know. What's famous
#3 - Making stuff, all kinds of stuff, I don't know.
#2 - Being an actress
#1 - Like a speaker at conferences or something. Talking.
the Mom - Probably some really heinous crime. One day I just won't be able to take the whining any more and I'll snap.
11. What is your mom really good at?
#4 - Cleaning the house
#3 - driving
#2 - Keeping us all happy
#1 - Zumba dancing
the Mom - I totally rock at Zumba. These hips can move, baby.
12. What is your mom not very good at?
#4 -
#3 - Starting up a fire
#2 - Playing an XBox 360
#1 - Keeping plants alive
the Mom - Feigning interest in video games.
13. What does your mom do for her job?
#4 - Taking care of Mr. B
#3 - Takes car of Mr B.
#2 - Takes care of Mr B.
#1 - taking care of the children when Dad is not here
the Mom - They're all right.
14. What is your mom's favorite food?
#4 - Mexican food
#3 - Shrek swamp soup (split pea soup)
#2 - Fettuccine Alfredo
#1 - Red Beans and Rice
the Mom - Mexican food when it's the real stuff with the orange grease....
15. What makes you proud of your mom?
#4 - The new baby
#3 - The baby
#2 - Being her child
#1 - She's not afraid of looking silly in front of other people
the Mom - The fact that I haven't killed anyone yet.
16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
#4 -
#3 - Whatever you want to be
#2 - The lady who takes care of Tom on Tom and Jerry
#1 - Perry the Platypus
the Mom - I so want to be Kim Possible.
17. What do you and your mom do together?
#4 - We eat dinner
#3 - Go to the store
#2 - Go see movies on my birthday
#1 - Watch trash TV (We love Mark and Olly)
the Mom - Yes.
18. How are you and your mom the same?
#4 - Because we watch Little Bear
#3 - We have the same eyebrows
#2 - We both have 2 brothers
#1 - We have the same sense of humor
the Mom - We all have the same last name and love the Computer Guy.
19. How are you and your mom different?
#4 - I'm shorter
#3 - I watch kid shows and you watch grown up shows
#2 - I have a big family and you don't
#1 - I don't have as much patience
the Mom - I'm better looking.
20. How do you know your mom loves you?
#4 - You tell me that a lot
#3 - I just know
#2 - Almost everything you do
#1 - You work so hard to take of me
the Mom - Have you noticed what a suck up #2 is?
21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
#4 - Logan's for lunch
#3 - Wal Mart because you can buy a lot of stuff there
#2 - to the movie theater
#1 - Texas
the Mom - Pfeiffer Beach. Alone. Without the naked hippies who live there.
The interviewees:
#4 is 4
#3 is 7
#2 is 9
#1 is 12
1. What is something mom always says to you?
#4 - I don't know
#3 - Do your schoolwork
#2 - Do your school
#1 - Go clean your room.
the Mom - Why did you do that?
2. What makes mom happy?
#4 - A clean house
#3 - The new baby
#2 - Love
#1 - A clean house
the Mom - sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. Oh and nachos. Mmmmmmm...nachos
3. What makes mom sad?
#4 -
#3 - Not having a new baby. When we don't have one
#2 - Scaring her
#1 - When the boys lie
the Mom - the thought of my children growing up and moving out. Seriously
4. What does your mom do to make you laugh?
#4 - Tickles me
#3 - Sings Bohemian Rhapsody
#2 - I don't know
#1 - Tells jokes
the Mom - I make faces at them while I'm filling up the car with gas and sing Bohemian Rhapsody.
5. What was your mom like as a child?
#4 - I don't know. I wasn't there
#3 - I can't really decide
#2 - Very beautiful and smart
#1 - Clever
the Mom - Pretty much like now, but shorter and not as smart.
6. How old is your mom?
#4 - 7
#3 - 90
#2 - thirty-three?
#1 - (Mumbles something)
the Mom - #1 is right.
7. How tall is your mom?
#4 - I can't measure
#3 - 40 inches
#2 - 3 yards high
#1 - 5' 4"
the Mom - #1 has it! The others need to learn to measure.
8. What is her favorite thing to do?
#4 - Spank bad children
#3 - Go out and eat lunch with somebody with her children
#2 - Have a clean house
#1 - Talk to people
the Mom - Hang out with my friends and talk politics. We could solve the world's problems if only they would listen to us.
9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
#4 -
$3 - Buys stuff
#2 - Lay in bed almost all day
#1 - Clean the house
the Mom - sleep and read a good book and then sleep some more
10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
#4 - I don't know. What's famous
#3 - Making stuff, all kinds of stuff, I don't know.
#2 - Being an actress
#1 - Like a speaker at conferences or something. Talking.
the Mom - Probably some really heinous crime. One day I just won't be able to take the whining any more and I'll snap.
11. What is your mom really good at?
#4 - Cleaning the house
#3 - driving
#2 - Keeping us all happy
#1 - Zumba dancing
the Mom - I totally rock at Zumba. These hips can move, baby.
12. What is your mom not very good at?
#4 -
#3 - Starting up a fire
#2 - Playing an XBox 360
#1 - Keeping plants alive
the Mom - Feigning interest in video games.
13. What does your mom do for her job?
#4 - Taking care of Mr. B
#3 - Takes car of Mr B.
#2 - Takes care of Mr B.
#1 - taking care of the children when Dad is not here
the Mom - They're all right.
14. What is your mom's favorite food?
#4 - Mexican food
#3 - Shrek swamp soup (split pea soup)
#2 - Fettuccine Alfredo
#1 - Red Beans and Rice
the Mom - Mexican food when it's the real stuff with the orange grease....
15. What makes you proud of your mom?
#4 - The new baby
#3 - The baby
#2 - Being her child
#1 - She's not afraid of looking silly in front of other people
the Mom - The fact that I haven't killed anyone yet.
16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
#4 -
#3 - Whatever you want to be
#2 - The lady who takes care of Tom on Tom and Jerry
#1 - Perry the Platypus
the Mom - I so want to be Kim Possible.
17. What do you and your mom do together?
#4 - We eat dinner
#3 - Go to the store
#2 - Go see movies on my birthday
#1 - Watch trash TV (We love Mark and Olly)
the Mom - Yes.
18. How are you and your mom the same?
#4 - Because we watch Little Bear
#3 - We have the same eyebrows
#2 - We both have 2 brothers
#1 - We have the same sense of humor
the Mom - We all have the same last name and love the Computer Guy.
19. How are you and your mom different?
#4 - I'm shorter
#3 - I watch kid shows and you watch grown up shows
#2 - I have a big family and you don't
#1 - I don't have as much patience
the Mom - I'm better looking.
20. How do you know your mom loves you?
#4 - You tell me that a lot
#3 - I just know
#2 - Almost everything you do
#1 - You work so hard to take of me
the Mom - Have you noticed what a suck up #2 is?
21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
#4 - Logan's for lunch
#3 - Wal Mart because you can buy a lot of stuff there
#2 - to the movie theater
#1 - Texas
the Mom - Pfeiffer Beach. Alone. Without the naked hippies who live there.
On Names and Godparents
Is there anything guaranteed to kick off a quarrel in an otherwise harmonious household faster than naming a new baby and picking godparents? The only hotter topic around here was whether or not to circumcise #2. (I won. They're all the way God made them.) Fortunately, the circumcision argument was a one time thing. So what if it lasted 3 months? The name and godparent thing comes up every time.
I have declared my love of a girl name that happens to be both the name of my favorite aunt (you know who you are) and a saint for whom I have great affection. Family connection and a great saint, it should be the end of the story, and I thought it was. Until my sweet Computer Guy fell in love with a name that is "cute." Seriously? That's his reasoning, "it's so cute." Who wants a girl with a cute name? No. We want strong, proud names that can carry them through life and not seem ridiculous when they're 90.
I'm dangerously close to the point of pulling rank here. I know he's the head of the household, but one of us has to push the little darling out of her hoo-hah and the other one has to be in the room. I think that gives me the upper hand in this whole baby naming debate. Let she who has to birth the little dear name the sweet thing. If he wants naming control, then he can birth the next one.
Then there's the whole godparent debate....Who do we pick? Will it hurt the feelings of some other friend or relative that they weren't the chosen one? Probably. I hate hurting feelings, but we're at the point of it being inevitable here. People have started saying things like, "Okay. This is the sixth one and I thought we were pretty good friends. Do I ever get to be one of your children's godparent?" Never mind that the close friend is a Buddhist who spends his weekends as his alter ego "Lady Mandarin" and looks better in a dress than I do. Perhaps I should just post a bulletin that anyone who's hotter than me is not going to be a godparent because I want to be the cute one in the pictures. That would remove the whole thorny "You're not a Catholic. You're going to Hell and you're not taking my baby with you" argument. They can just take pride in their hotness and I can still go to family reunions without fearing that the chocolate cake is poisoned.
People take this whole name and godparent thing and make it about them. If I name the baby your name, it may be about you or it may be a coincidence. Don't ask unless you can take the truth without hating me. If I don't ask you to take responsibility for my child's eternal well-being, it's not that I don't love you or like you...well, it may be...but chances are that I've prayed about it and God led me to someone else. Or it could be that I'm not taking pictures next to a guy who looks better than me in a dress. Whatever.
I have declared my love of a girl name that happens to be both the name of my favorite aunt (you know who you are) and a saint for whom I have great affection. Family connection and a great saint, it should be the end of the story, and I thought it was. Until my sweet Computer Guy fell in love with a name that is "cute." Seriously? That's his reasoning, "it's so cute." Who wants a girl with a cute name? No. We want strong, proud names that can carry them through life and not seem ridiculous when they're 90.
I'm dangerously close to the point of pulling rank here. I know he's the head of the household, but one of us has to push the little darling out of her hoo-hah and the other one has to be in the room. I think that gives me the upper hand in this whole baby naming debate. Let she who has to birth the little dear name the sweet thing. If he wants naming control, then he can birth the next one.
Then there's the whole godparent debate....Who do we pick? Will it hurt the feelings of some other friend or relative that they weren't the chosen one? Probably. I hate hurting feelings, but we're at the point of it being inevitable here. People have started saying things like, "Okay. This is the sixth one and I thought we were pretty good friends. Do I ever get to be one of your children's godparent?" Never mind that the close friend is a Buddhist who spends his weekends as his alter ego "Lady Mandarin" and looks better in a dress than I do. Perhaps I should just post a bulletin that anyone who's hotter than me is not going to be a godparent because I want to be the cute one in the pictures. That would remove the whole thorny "You're not a Catholic. You're going to Hell and you're not taking my baby with you" argument. They can just take pride in their hotness and I can still go to family reunions without fearing that the chocolate cake is poisoned.
People take this whole name and godparent thing and make it about them. If I name the baby your name, it may be about you or it may be a coincidence. Don't ask unless you can take the truth without hating me. If I don't ask you to take responsibility for my child's eternal well-being, it's not that I don't love you or like you...well, it may be...but chances are that I've prayed about it and God led me to someone else. Or it could be that I'm not taking pictures next to a guy who looks better than me in a dress. Whatever.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Flippin' Baby #6
Unlike its creepy avatar in my sidebar, Little Kid #6 likes to move. There's not a lot of passive floating around and sleeping going on in there. From what I can observe, there's a disco in there and #6 is doin' the Hustle. It's either that or advanced acrobatics. Either way this kid is in trouble because there's no way I gave permission for that kind of activity.
To the other children's disappointment, #6 isn't big enough to be felt by anyone but me. Yet. I'm okay with that. I like this part of pregnancy where I get to know the newbie without having to share him (or, please God, her) with the world quite yet. It is just the two of us, sharing this body an this space. We're like the dude on Alien but with a happier outcome. It's similar though since I too will have a 6 pound screaming creature come pushing its way out of my lower abdomen. So, yeah, similar but better because I get drugs. Mmmmmm...epidurals.....If I could just get one of those for the last 6 weeks or so, man..I'd so do that!
I'm at that point where the baby moving feels like sweet little bubbles and the need for maternity clothes depends on how comfortable I want to be. I'm getting the wondering looks from people in stores as they try and figure out if I really am crazy enough to have a sixth. I seem like such a nice person; surely lunatics wear signs or something. In a few weeks, there will no longer be any doubt, and the quizzical glances will become shocked stares of disbelief.
Until now, the main proof that a baby was coming has been in the copious amounts of pumpkin seeds I've been eating. Man, those things are good. The way I'm eating them you'd think they grow on plants or something. Wouldn't that be awesome? If pumpkin seeds grew on plants? And you could just go and pick them instead of having to clean off the shelf at the grocery store? Dude, what a wonderful, crazy world that would be.
To the other children's disappointment, #6 isn't big enough to be felt by anyone but me. Yet. I'm okay with that. I like this part of pregnancy where I get to know the newbie without having to share him (or, please God, her) with the world quite yet. It is just the two of us, sharing this body an this space. We're like the dude on Alien but with a happier outcome. It's similar though since I too will have a 6 pound screaming creature come pushing its way out of my lower abdomen. So, yeah, similar but better because I get drugs. Mmmmmm...epidurals.....If I could just get one of those for the last 6 weeks or so, man..I'd so do that!
I'm at that point where the baby moving feels like sweet little bubbles and the need for maternity clothes depends on how comfortable I want to be. I'm getting the wondering looks from people in stores as they try and figure out if I really am crazy enough to have a sixth. I seem like such a nice person; surely lunatics wear signs or something. In a few weeks, there will no longer be any doubt, and the quizzical glances will become shocked stares of disbelief.
Until now, the main proof that a baby was coming has been in the copious amounts of pumpkin seeds I've been eating. Man, those things are good. The way I'm eating them you'd think they grow on plants or something. Wouldn't that be awesome? If pumpkin seeds grew on plants? And you could just go and pick them instead of having to clean off the shelf at the grocery store? Dude, what a wonderful, crazy world that would be.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
That's News to Me!
I'm a liberated woman! That's right, alert the media, call the gang at NOW and tell them that freedom has come to the backwards-thinking, homeschooling, stay-at-home mom, have a bunch of kids and be monogamous crowd. I'm not burning my bra, I kind of need that thing, but I'll think of something to do in celebration.
When did it happen? According to the Vatican, it happened with the invention of the washing machine. That's right. Someone at the Holy See can see the truth and knows that the washing machine is far more liberating than the Pill. I totally agree. Of course, I don't think the Pill was liberating at all. I think it fundamentally changed the dynamic of relationships between men and women and lowered our worth from one of partner to one of an object of sexual gratification. I'm a bit one-sided on this debate.
I'm thankful for the freedom afforded by my washing machine, I would also like to thank my dishwasher and my vacuum cleaner. They have made me the woman I am today. Without these wonders of the 20th century, how much time would I and my fellow women spend on things like laundry, dishes and cleaning the floors? How much time would it take to wash the clothes of my medium to large family in a tub in the back yard with only a bar of lye soap and a washboard? There's a reason that closets in old houses are small. Women didn't want to do that much laundry. We still don't.
We walk around complaining about the mountains of work that have to be done, and never stop to think that those mountains are made just a little smaller by the technology we take for granted. It is that technology which allows us the freedom and the time for fun things like blogs and reality TV and also for the important things like homeschooling. Where would my family be today without the washing machine? In school. I wouldn't have time for all of them and their laundry.
I think the Vatican got it right. The washing machine is the liberator of woman and her mind. Without it there wouldn't even be time to complain about the housework. We take these things for granted, but they have made possible the freedom of many hours in the lives of women and yet they go largely ignored. Thank you to the makes of appliances who have freed my mind and thanks to the Vatican for pointing it out!
When did it happen? According to the Vatican, it happened with the invention of the washing machine. That's right. Someone at the Holy See can see the truth and knows that the washing machine is far more liberating than the Pill. I totally agree. Of course, I don't think the Pill was liberating at all. I think it fundamentally changed the dynamic of relationships between men and women and lowered our worth from one of partner to one of an object of sexual gratification. I'm a bit one-sided on this debate.
I'm thankful for the freedom afforded by my washing machine, I would also like to thank my dishwasher and my vacuum cleaner. They have made me the woman I am today. Without these wonders of the 20th century, how much time would I and my fellow women spend on things like laundry, dishes and cleaning the floors? How much time would it take to wash the clothes of my medium to large family in a tub in the back yard with only a bar of lye soap and a washboard? There's a reason that closets in old houses are small. Women didn't want to do that much laundry. We still don't.
We walk around complaining about the mountains of work that have to be done, and never stop to think that those mountains are made just a little smaller by the technology we take for granted. It is that technology which allows us the freedom and the time for fun things like blogs and reality TV and also for the important things like homeschooling. Where would my family be today without the washing machine? In school. I wouldn't have time for all of them and their laundry.
I think the Vatican got it right. The washing machine is the liberator of woman and her mind. Without it there wouldn't even be time to complain about the housework. We take these things for granted, but they have made possible the freedom of many hours in the lives of women and yet they go largely ignored. Thank you to the makes of appliances who have freed my mind and thanks to the Vatican for pointing it out!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Sundays
We've had the flu for the last week, all of us except for #1. I don't know how she escapes these things, maybe it's because she hides in her room doing Algebra and listening to whiny teeny-bopper music.
Sunday morning we were better, marginally. Better enough that we could have made it to Mass and sniffled our way through it. A few years ago, we would have dragged ourselves from bed and forced ourselves to go. We no longer do. It is much harder to stay home.
We could have gone, but didn't. The older I get, the more sure I become that going to Mass while ill is sinful. All the coughing, sniffling, hacking that I would do would spread my germs to rest of the congregation. There was a time in history when we didn't know how diseases spread, and everybody who was physically capable of going was required to meet their Sunday obligation of attendance. We know how the flu is spread. My presence there would expose the 100+ in attendance at the 8AM Mass. To attend would, it seems to me, to be an act of selfishness.
It is not that I wished to stay curled up in bed. I ache for the True Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. My whole week, all the effort and the prayer, leads to what JP II rightly called the "source and summit of our faith." Sunday Mass is the fuel that gets me through my stressful and hectic week. That one hour restores the calm of my soul.
In this case, it is either a sin to go or a sin to stay home. I am no theologian, therefore, I will do what any good Catholic girl would do. I will go to Confession and let God sort it out.
Sunday morning we were better, marginally. Better enough that we could have made it to Mass and sniffled our way through it. A few years ago, we would have dragged ourselves from bed and forced ourselves to go. We no longer do. It is much harder to stay home.
We could have gone, but didn't. The older I get, the more sure I become that going to Mass while ill is sinful. All the coughing, sniffling, hacking that I would do would spread my germs to rest of the congregation. There was a time in history when we didn't know how diseases spread, and everybody who was physically capable of going was required to meet their Sunday obligation of attendance. We know how the flu is spread. My presence there would expose the 100+ in attendance at the 8AM Mass. To attend would, it seems to me, to be an act of selfishness.
It is not that I wished to stay curled up in bed. I ache for the True Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. My whole week, all the effort and the prayer, leads to what JP II rightly called the "source and summit of our faith." Sunday Mass is the fuel that gets me through my stressful and hectic week. That one hour restores the calm of my soul.
In this case, it is either a sin to go or a sin to stay home. I am no theologian, therefore, I will do what any good Catholic girl would do. I will go to Confession and let God sort it out.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Global Warming..or.. Is It Hot Out Here?
I admit it. I'm a global warming skeptic. I think Al Gore is, pardon the pun, full of hot air. It's not that I think that climates don't change, I just doubt my car has had that much to do with it. I think some really big parts of it are man-induced. I just don't think we're blaming the right people.
I blame FDR, his New Deal, and his socialist agenda with its make work projects. I think liberalism caused climate change. Before you think I've gone off the deep end a little further than usual, let me explain.
I started talking to old people. People who have lived in one place long enough to notice a change, if one exists. It's not scientific, but strangely it seems to be a new approach. "Do you think the climate is different from when you were a child? When did it change?" Most of the people I've spoken with are relatives in Oklahoma and Texas, but from both our families, so they don't know each other at all.
Yes, things have changes since they were children in the early parts of the 20th century. It doesn't snow as much in the winter, and the summers last longer but aren't as dry. There are more droughts in Texas, but when it rains it floods more. Those drying dustbowl winds don't sweep across the land, and the tumbleweeds and the horny toads have disappeared. Different plants grow in Oklahoma, and the growing seasons are longer. The climate has changed.
It started in 1934/1935 when the Army Corps of Engineers and the WPA got here, or so I'm told. They showed up and started digging lakes in our Oklahoma prairie, a land that previously had no lakes, and planting trees in a state where trees were a rarity. The landscape changed and so did the climate. Okies began discovering what humidity was for the first time.
My husband's sweet grandmother lived through the dustbowl days and the Great Depression. She scoffs at the idea of a modern cause for the changes we see. She says they all started when FDR began looking for things for people to do and decided that Oklahoma needed more water to help with irrigation and more trees to help keep the soil in place. Perhaps he was right and we did need those things, but they have begun a chain reaction of environmental consequences that people are still watching today.
Th earth doesn't usually experience such quick changes to a landscape without cataclysmic reasons. In the case of the 1930's, the catastrophe was an economic one, not just in our state but in our whole country. The response of the government was to build lakes, dam rivers, plant forests where no trees had previously grown, change the course of rivers, and mow down trees where they were inconvenient.
The tree huggers haven't look back far enough to see what changes the New Deal brought about in our physical world. They see change now and figure that the reason must be happening now, but I don't think so. I think it was a little engineering on the part of a president who was looking for things for people to do. To combat the resulting environmental changes, we can either fill in the lakes and chop down the "new" forests, or we can accept that the definition of normal has changes and get on with it.
I blame FDR, his New Deal, and his socialist agenda with its make work projects. I think liberalism caused climate change. Before you think I've gone off the deep end a little further than usual, let me explain.
I started talking to old people. People who have lived in one place long enough to notice a change, if one exists. It's not scientific, but strangely it seems to be a new approach. "Do you think the climate is different from when you were a child? When did it change?" Most of the people I've spoken with are relatives in Oklahoma and Texas, but from both our families, so they don't know each other at all.
Yes, things have changes since they were children in the early parts of the 20th century. It doesn't snow as much in the winter, and the summers last longer but aren't as dry. There are more droughts in Texas, but when it rains it floods more. Those drying dustbowl winds don't sweep across the land, and the tumbleweeds and the horny toads have disappeared. Different plants grow in Oklahoma, and the growing seasons are longer. The climate has changed.
It started in 1934/1935 when the Army Corps of Engineers and the WPA got here, or so I'm told. They showed up and started digging lakes in our Oklahoma prairie, a land that previously had no lakes, and planting trees in a state where trees were a rarity. The landscape changed and so did the climate. Okies began discovering what humidity was for the first time.
My husband's sweet grandmother lived through the dustbowl days and the Great Depression. She scoffs at the idea of a modern cause for the changes we see. She says they all started when FDR began looking for things for people to do and decided that Oklahoma needed more water to help with irrigation and more trees to help keep the soil in place. Perhaps he was right and we did need those things, but they have begun a chain reaction of environmental consequences that people are still watching today.
Th earth doesn't usually experience such quick changes to a landscape without cataclysmic reasons. In the case of the 1930's, the catastrophe was an economic one, not just in our state but in our whole country. The response of the government was to build lakes, dam rivers, plant forests where no trees had previously grown, change the course of rivers, and mow down trees where they were inconvenient.
The tree huggers haven't look back far enough to see what changes the New Deal brought about in our physical world. They see change now and figure that the reason must be happening now, but I don't think so. I think it was a little engineering on the part of a president who was looking for things for people to do. To combat the resulting environmental changes, we can either fill in the lakes and chop down the "new" forests, or we can accept that the definition of normal has changes and get on with it.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Yeah Guys, We Miss Him Too
I promise that videos aren't all I'm about now. I'm working on a thing about global warming or climate change or whatever you want to call it. Come back and look for it tomorrow.
A tip of the hat and a big thank you to the Cavemen.
Monday, March 2, 2009
I'm Married to This Guy
Or one just like him. Has your husband (or have you, if you're the dad) ever played Pretty, Pretty Princess and worn the earrings and the tiara? If so, then he's (you're) this guy, too, and God bless him/you for it!
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