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Christmas Day Festivities
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Christmas morning with Brody showing off his Santa gift. Of course, Santa
knows all and was smart enough to bring Brody a ton of 'Spy Gear.' He was
absolu...
Monday, December 21, 2009
Excited Much?
I have a million last minute things to do before Christmas. I don't really want to Christmas shop all that much though. Instead, I've been surfing free samples websites signing up on Huggies & Pampers mailing lists. Oh, and I'm addicted to Craiglist. It's ridiculous. I'm only 9 weeks along and all I want to do is look at baby stuff. Think I'm excited much? LOL
Friday, December 11, 2009
Tis The Season
It was 10 degrees here in Grays Harbor last night. Our lake is frozen most of the way across into a beautiful glasslike crystal sheet of ice (teasing the children to try to ice skate on it although they are FORBIDDEN to attempt that or even go near it.) We're not used to these record lows around here. Car batteries are refusing to cooperate, tons of people's wells are frozen, and the local economy is getting stimulated as people are forced to buy deicer, antifreeze, and long underwear. Oh yeah, and a lady slept in her car outside of my house last night.
I obviously already knew that there were countless homeless people suffering in this weather. I just made a casual comment to the kids about how I was worried about those people without warm shelter just the other day. None of them were in front of my house though (yet.) Everything's always more personal & real when it's right in your own front yard. This morning, when I got up to get the kids off to school, I noticed a car parked outside. Not a big deal. It happens. A little while later though, the hazard lights came on & I realized that there was somebody in that car. So, I sent Dustin out to see if they needed help. He brought back a lady that was shivering violently. Her lips & fingers purplish-blue. She had a small fleece throw, a lightweight jacket, and a cast on her arm. She had let her car run to stay warm until she had run out of gas.
I set her up with a blanket & hot cocoa while Dustin went to town to get gas for her car. She seemed like a really nice lady. She made conversation with the kids as I hurried around getting them ready for school. The part that really hit me hard wasn't so much that she had to sleep in her car, it was the fact that as I got the kids ready, tears came to her eyes as she repeatedly said, "I used to do this with my kids." Tatton was getting all dressed up for his field trip to The Nutcracker & this lady told him about how she also went on a field trip to The Nutcracker in Seattle with her daughter's class years ago. I was reminded once again of just how much I really have to be thankful for that I so often take for granted. My kids were sitting at our dining room table wolfing down cheerios, hats and gloves at the ready for when they would leave the comfort of our 70 degrees home to board the school bus and go off to a day of learning & enrichment. Our needs were met. We were better than okay, great even.
I've caught myself feeling Scrooge-like & cranky several times over the last few weeks with Dustin laid off as the Holidays approach all too quickly. I keep trying to remember to focus on the Holiday traditions that bring family togetherness instead of stressing about getting every little thing on the kids' monstrous gimme-lists. It's easy to get caught up in the cycle of materialism and greed though. This morning, I remembered something: The best part of the Holidays is giving. I suggest that we all find a way to reach out to others this season.
I obviously already knew that there were countless homeless people suffering in this weather. I just made a casual comment to the kids about how I was worried about those people without warm shelter just the other day. None of them were in front of my house though (yet.) Everything's always more personal & real when it's right in your own front yard. This morning, when I got up to get the kids off to school, I noticed a car parked outside. Not a big deal. It happens. A little while later though, the hazard lights came on & I realized that there was somebody in that car. So, I sent Dustin out to see if they needed help. He brought back a lady that was shivering violently. Her lips & fingers purplish-blue. She had a small fleece throw, a lightweight jacket, and a cast on her arm. She had let her car run to stay warm until she had run out of gas.
I set her up with a blanket & hot cocoa while Dustin went to town to get gas for her car. She seemed like a really nice lady. She made conversation with the kids as I hurried around getting them ready for school. The part that really hit me hard wasn't so much that she had to sleep in her car, it was the fact that as I got the kids ready, tears came to her eyes as she repeatedly said, "I used to do this with my kids." Tatton was getting all dressed up for his field trip to The Nutcracker & this lady told him about how she also went on a field trip to The Nutcracker in Seattle with her daughter's class years ago. I was reminded once again of just how much I really have to be thankful for that I so often take for granted. My kids were sitting at our dining room table wolfing down cheerios, hats and gloves at the ready for when they would leave the comfort of our 70 degrees home to board the school bus and go off to a day of learning & enrichment. Our needs were met. We were better than okay, great even.
I've caught myself feeling Scrooge-like & cranky several times over the last few weeks with Dustin laid off as the Holidays approach all too quickly. I keep trying to remember to focus on the Holiday traditions that bring family togetherness instead of stressing about getting every little thing on the kids' monstrous gimme-lists. It's easy to get caught up in the cycle of materialism and greed though. This morning, I remembered something: The best part of the Holidays is giving. I suggest that we all find a way to reach out to others this season.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
When It Just Happens
I love effortless learning. I try to learn that way as often as possible. Who am I kidding? I try to do everything as effortlessly as possible. The shower curtain in my kids' bathroom is a giant world map because when I saw it for sale at Walmart I thought, "Wow- if they're going to be sitting there anyway and they could stare at a map that whole time..." Effortless learning. Today, we were watching the football game. It was the San Francisco 49er's at the Seahawks. Good game too, by the way. The score stayed tied enough of the time to keep me interested. Oh yeah, and the Hawks won. :-) Lane asked, "Why would anyone name a football team something dumb like the 49er's?" Sean said, "They're from San Francisco. You know, like the California Gold Rush." Tatton asked what the name 49er's had to do with the Gold Rush, so I told him to go look it up. A couple of minutes later he said, "Ohh- I get it! 1849. Okay." The beautiful thing is, it didn't end there. Once we had reason to crack open those history books, the domino effect began.
Tatton read aloud about the events of 1849 from Don't Know Much About American History (by Kenneth C. Davis). His eyed were glowing with excitement as he exclaimed, "Oh my gosh! You guys think the economy is bad now! In 1849, there were so many thousands of people flocking to California that their supply & demand was ridiculous! Flour was $800 a barrel, sugar was $400 a barrel, eggs were $3 a piece, and shovels were $100. (This was at a time when skilled workers were making $2 a day!) Hey, guess what? Jeans were invented because a man noticed that miners needed sturdier pants & he invented Levi Strauss. Oh my gosh! Levi's were the first jeans ever invented and I'm wearing a pair of Levi's right now!"
He went on, "Hey guys! Chinatown came about because the Gold Rush brought so many Chinese people across the Pacific to America since there was a war going on over there & lots of people were out of work in China. But life in California, which the Chinese people called "Gold Mountain" wasn't much better than it had been in China. White people who couldn't find gold looked for someone to blame. They often unfairly blamed the Chinese & they were forced to live apart from everyone else & pay extra taxes. They had no rights. Many went home, but those who stayed created "Chinatowns" where they settled. I wonder if we would have Chinese take-out if there hadn't been a Gold Rush in 1849?"
Then he asked Lane this question: "Hey Lane- was the Underground Railroad the first subway system?" Thankfully, Tatton was too excited to allow Lane much time to answer since Lane didn't look like he loved being put on the spot with that question. Tatton answered his own question, "Nope! It sounds like it would be, but it was really a network of houses & other safe places for slaves who were running away to freedom in the northern states & Canada! The California Gold Rush heightened the debate over slavery because so many settlers moved to California so quickly that it had enough people to apply for statehood. The Oregon Territory was considered free, so southerners wanted California to be a slave state. But California's state constitution forbade slavery."
"In the Compromise of 1850, California entered into the Union as a free state. The Compromise also included The Fugitive Slave Law, which made it legal for slave owners to go after & capture runaway slaves who had escaped North. That was the most controversial part of the Compromise. There were people who helped the slaves run away. These people were called 'Conductors.' The most famous 'conductor' of the railroad was Harriet Tubman. $40,000 was offered for her capture! Mom, do you know when Harriet Tubman was born? It has a question mark here for her year of birth."
I remembered that I actually had a Time For Kids Biography called Harriet Tubman A Woman of Courage (by Renee Skelton) on the bookshelf. So, we got it out & started reading about her life. It said that she died in 1913 at the age of 93, so I had the kids do the math & we decided that she must have been born around 1820. We talked about her life being raised as a slave & how good we all have it in comparison. Especially striking were the pictures of the quilts used for code. The kids couldn't believe that it was against the law to teach a slave to read & write. Here we were with 5 books spread in front of us by this point, digging through the written word about people who never had that right. They were ingenious enough to find a way to communicate by sewing patterns into quilts that they would hang out windows or across fences without stirring suspicion though. My kiddos that are all about secret agents & spies thought that was amazing.
By this time, the game was a blood pressure spiking tie at 17 to 17 with only a few minutes left. We had casually covered History, Geography, Civil Rights, done some math and a ton of reading, (with Brooke throwing in synonyms for EVERYTHING due to her new found BFF the Thesaurus- more on that in a future blog) all while noshing on pizza and watching a good ol' Sunday football game. I LOVE days like this. Effortless learning & quality time. That's the stuff.
References:
Don't Know Much About American History, Kenneth C. Davis, 2003
Don't Know Much About The 50 States, Kenneth C. Davis, 2001
National Geographic Our Fifty States, Mark H. Bockenhauer and Stephen F. Cunha, 2004
Building A Nation, Scott Foresman, 2008
Explore and Learn Volume 6 Atlas of the World, The Southwestern Company, 2005
Explore and Learn Volume 4 People in Place and Time, The Southwestern Company, 2005
The California Gold Rush An Interactive History Adventure, Elizabeth Raum, 2008
and of course, Brooke's friend: Webster's New English Language Thesaurus
Tatton read aloud about the events of 1849 from Don't Know Much About American History (by Kenneth C. Davis). His eyed were glowing with excitement as he exclaimed, "Oh my gosh! You guys think the economy is bad now! In 1849, there were so many thousands of people flocking to California that their supply & demand was ridiculous! Flour was $800 a barrel, sugar was $400 a barrel, eggs were $3 a piece, and shovels were $100. (This was at a time when skilled workers were making $2 a day!) Hey, guess what? Jeans were invented because a man noticed that miners needed sturdier pants & he invented Levi Strauss. Oh my gosh! Levi's were the first jeans ever invented and I'm wearing a pair of Levi's right now!"
He went on, "Hey guys! Chinatown came about because the Gold Rush brought so many Chinese people across the Pacific to America since there was a war going on over there & lots of people were out of work in China. But life in California, which the Chinese people called "Gold Mountain" wasn't much better than it had been in China. White people who couldn't find gold looked for someone to blame. They often unfairly blamed the Chinese & they were forced to live apart from everyone else & pay extra taxes. They had no rights. Many went home, but those who stayed created "Chinatowns" where they settled. I wonder if we would have Chinese take-out if there hadn't been a Gold Rush in 1849?"
Then he asked Lane this question: "Hey Lane- was the Underground Railroad the first subway system?" Thankfully, Tatton was too excited to allow Lane much time to answer since Lane didn't look like he loved being put on the spot with that question. Tatton answered his own question, "Nope! It sounds like it would be, but it was really a network of houses & other safe places for slaves who were running away to freedom in the northern states & Canada! The California Gold Rush heightened the debate over slavery because so many settlers moved to California so quickly that it had enough people to apply for statehood. The Oregon Territory was considered free, so southerners wanted California to be a slave state. But California's state constitution forbade slavery."
"In the Compromise of 1850, California entered into the Union as a free state. The Compromise also included The Fugitive Slave Law, which made it legal for slave owners to go after & capture runaway slaves who had escaped North. That was the most controversial part of the Compromise. There were people who helped the slaves run away. These people were called 'Conductors.' The most famous 'conductor' of the railroad was Harriet Tubman. $40,000 was offered for her capture! Mom, do you know when Harriet Tubman was born? It has a question mark here for her year of birth."
I remembered that I actually had a Time For Kids Biography called Harriet Tubman A Woman of Courage (by Renee Skelton) on the bookshelf. So, we got it out & started reading about her life. It said that she died in 1913 at the age of 93, so I had the kids do the math & we decided that she must have been born around 1820. We talked about her life being raised as a slave & how good we all have it in comparison. Especially striking were the pictures of the quilts used for code. The kids couldn't believe that it was against the law to teach a slave to read & write. Here we were with 5 books spread in front of us by this point, digging through the written word about people who never had that right. They were ingenious enough to find a way to communicate by sewing patterns into quilts that they would hang out windows or across fences without stirring suspicion though. My kiddos that are all about secret agents & spies thought that was amazing.
By this time, the game was a blood pressure spiking tie at 17 to 17 with only a few minutes left. We had casually covered History, Geography, Civil Rights, done some math and a ton of reading, (with Brooke throwing in synonyms for EVERYTHING due to her new found BFF the Thesaurus- more on that in a future blog) all while noshing on pizza and watching a good ol' Sunday football game. I LOVE days like this. Effortless learning & quality time. That's the stuff.
References:
Don't Know Much About American History, Kenneth C. Davis, 2003
Don't Know Much About The 50 States, Kenneth C. Davis, 2001
National Geographic Our Fifty States, Mark H. Bockenhauer and Stephen F. Cunha, 2004
Building A Nation, Scott Foresman, 2008
Explore and Learn Volume 6 Atlas of the World, The Southwestern Company, 2005
Explore and Learn Volume 4 People in Place and Time, The Southwestern Company, 2005
The California Gold Rush An Interactive History Adventure, Elizabeth Raum, 2008
and of course, Brooke's friend: Webster's New English Language Thesaurus
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Miss Brooke Teaches Those Boys
Today, the fact that our youngest child is clearly the Alpha became a little more obvious. We've known it since she was 2. There's no denying it. Way back then, she could walk up to Russell who was 4 and say, "I want that swing" (that he was using) and he would silently hop off and give it to her. She's always done this. I've alternated between patting her brothers on the back for being so kind to their little sister and telling them that it's okay to stand up for themselves. Brooke will convince them to do things her way no matter what though.
Several months ago, a box full of educational character building tools arrived in the mail. I had signed up for it on a freebies website. I've been meaning to open it and put it to use all this time. However, it's been on the top of a bookshelf in a hallway instead. Yesterday, Brooke got it down and fell in love with it. She played school in her bedroom most of the evening using the colorful posters and white board. Then, this morning the game took a new turn.
Lane and Tatton were fighting over video games as they're likely to be found doing on a rainy Saturday morning. Miss Brooke (as she insisted we call her) arrived on the scene. She taped up her "visual aids" and used a drumstick for a pointer. It sounded something like this for the next couple of HOURS:
Brooke: "Lane, what are some ways that you can manage conflict?"
Lane (mumbling): "Umm- I dunno."
Brooke: "Tatton, don't you think that looking for a compromise might be a good start?"
Tatton: "Yeah."
Brooke: "Lane, what does compromise mean? Give me an example."
Lane: "To like make a deal."
Brooke: "Good, but that wasn't an example. Now class, I'm going to list some ways that we can manage conflict:"
(pointing with her drumstick)
"First, stay cool. Talk it over. Focus on the problem. Look for a compromise. Know when to walk away. Be a leader. Be a friend. Be reasonable. Be responsible. Practice real courage and put your ego aside. Mom, what's an ego?"
It was seriously cute. I was both laughing (in my head) at how seriously she was taking all of this and sort of shocked and amazed at how good she was at it. She really blew my "Boys knock it off!" out of the water! I also want to say to the boys that I'm very proud of them for what good sports they were and how long they let their sister "play school" with them when I'm sure they had other things they would rather be doing than being lectured by a 7 year old. The only less than nice thing they even said was when Brooke handed Russell a "detention slip" for not following "direkshons" and he said, "Oh! Come on! I have to follow your directions and you don't even know how to spell it right?!"
Several months ago, a box full of educational character building tools arrived in the mail. I had signed up for it on a freebies website. I've been meaning to open it and put it to use all this time. However, it's been on the top of a bookshelf in a hallway instead. Yesterday, Brooke got it down and fell in love with it. She played school in her bedroom most of the evening using the colorful posters and white board. Then, this morning the game took a new turn.
Lane and Tatton were fighting over video games as they're likely to be found doing on a rainy Saturday morning. Miss Brooke (as she insisted we call her) arrived on the scene. She taped up her "visual aids" and used a drumstick for a pointer. It sounded something like this for the next couple of HOURS:
Brooke: "Lane, what are some ways that you can manage conflict?"
Lane (mumbling): "Umm- I dunno."
Brooke: "Tatton, don't you think that looking for a compromise might be a good start?"
Tatton: "Yeah."
Brooke: "Lane, what does compromise mean? Give me an example."
Lane: "To like make a deal."
Brooke: "Good, but that wasn't an example. Now class, I'm going to list some ways that we can manage conflict:"
(pointing with her drumstick)
"First, stay cool. Talk it over. Focus on the problem. Look for a compromise. Know when to walk away. Be a leader. Be a friend. Be reasonable. Be responsible. Practice real courage and put your ego aside. Mom, what's an ego?"
It was seriously cute. I was both laughing (in my head) at how seriously she was taking all of this and sort of shocked and amazed at how good she was at it. She really blew my "Boys knock it off!" out of the water! I also want to say to the boys that I'm very proud of them for what good sports they were and how long they let their sister "play school" with them when I'm sure they had other things they would rather be doing than being lectured by a 7 year old. The only less than nice thing they even said was when Brooke handed Russell a "detention slip" for not following "direkshons" and he said, "Oh! Come on! I have to follow your directions and you don't even know how to spell it right?!"
And So It Begins
I've realized that as the cold and impending gloom of the grey skies have set in, so has my need to write. Funny how that works. There's a reason that Seattle (the entire Pacific Northwest really- but Seattle gets all the love) has turned out so many artists. Well, and coffee shops to be fair. For me, it's a tradition and a survival instinct both. Not unlike the squirrels hoarding food away for winter or the geese flying south, once that cold moisture finds it's way to my bones my brain screams to be creative. Or maybe it's been creative all along but I had plenty of serotonin from long sun filled days of activity to quiet the noise. Who knows?
No matter what the reason, I have to say that I have a love hate relationship with this tradition. I have to say that "creating" words isn't really as productive as say, oh, vacuuming is. And at this time, I'm really forcing myself to go through the motions of day to day life. Things still have to get done. So, I do them with as little effort as possible and then I make a mad dash to the computer to research and type. I don't think it's healthy (but very little about winter feels healthy.) I've wondered more than a few times if I shouldn't get a sun lamp or something.
So, anyway... the blog will probably be getting updated more often. Until spring that is... ;-)
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Being Thankful
Every once in a while the kids say or do something that makes me think that MAYBE I'm getting through to them. That happened this week with Tatton. Shortly after Lane received his Birthday presents, Tatton came down with a case of the woe-is-me-gimmes (go figure...) It went something like this:
"I don't have ANYTHING! EVERYONE has WAY more than me! Why can't I just have ONE single thing that I want for once?"
Note: This is one of my all time biggest pet peeves as a mother. I simply cannot stand putting in my blood, sweat, and tears just to be met with ungrateful whines and pleas that make it so brutally clear that my all will never be quite good enough. That said... I get it. I do. He's only almost 11 and let's face it- a human. Who of us hasn't thought that the grass just MIGHT be greener on the other side of the fence once or twice? So... I held my tongue (this time.) I simply stared at him as he went off about the injustice.
Then, he paused. The saying "I could see the wheels turning in his head" seems exceptionally appropriate as I felt like I could literally watch his brain switch gears. Seeming to be suddenly aware that he sounded like a big ingrate, he tried a new tactic. It went something like this:
"Okay, I know... I know... I have shelter, and food, and clothing, and education. Oh, and health care. But I mean, besides having my basic needs met... I don't have..."
He stumbled around with that for a few minutes more (going on and on about how ALL of the kids in his class have way more modern technology and way funner toys than we do) as I continued to stare at him in silence. Thankfully, he switched gears again. Just as quickly as his tirade had started, he let out a deep sigh of resignation and said, "I think I'm gonna shut up now." and turned around and walked out looking content as the cat that caught the canary.
I love that his thoughts basically came full circle and I never had to even utter a word. It's so interesting to me actually. The thing is, I have a major problem with the way that we as a society are so "gimme" oriented. I remember several years ago when I was a teenage mom and I felt like I had to bend over backwards to try to achieve enough to allow my children to have a "real" life. Of course, my ideals were unrealistic and when they weren't met, we all survived. Not to mention, learned and grew. That's when I first realized my first mistake: I thought that in order to be a "real" happy family we had to be living the "American Dream" which in my mind was a perfect suburban house with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids that were in every extracurricular activity imaginable and were always perfectly dressed. Only:
A. The concept of an "American Dream" didn't actually make all that much sense when I considered that when you break the words down what you're looking at is America (not the whole world or even all of the developed countries but one lone country that isn't all that popular due to it's known greed and corruption) and Dream (which can be defined as a series of mental images and emotions occurring in the mind; "I had a dream about you last night"
imaginative thoughts indulged in while awake; "he lives in a dream that has nothing to do with reality" have a daydream; indulge in a fantasy ;a state of mind characterized by abstraction and release from reality; "he went about his work as if in a dream" ) So, I was stressing myself out about an imaginative thought that is connected to a lifestyle in one country. My real life was still way better than a lot of other people's and as poor as I felt at times I was definitely better off than most of the people in Africa and Afghanistan just to name a couple of places.
And B. Nothing will ever be enough unless we first appreciate what we have. We all do it. We want that new car so badly. Then, after we've had it for a little while we start looking around at all of the other new vehicles on the road and we don't like our car that much anymore. Don't get me started on how many times I've changed my mind on what color I want my kitchen painted alone. And no matter how long ago you bought your cell phone / computer / gaming system you can bet that something newer and better is in on the horizon sooner than you can call your new crack berry a dinosaur. When will we ever be satisfied unless we stop in our tracks and take stock of how much we actually have to be thankful for?
My point is this: I'm so relieved that even though Tatton got greedy for a moment, I'm so relieved that he caught on to his thought error & corrected it on his own. It gives me hope that MAYBE someday my kids will be able to look back on their childhood with fond memories of family togetherness and special traditions and feel like they were blessed. This parenting thing can get a little scary and it's nice to have hope that I'm not just raising materialistic people who don't know how to be thankful for how good life really is. What are you thankful for?
"I don't have ANYTHING! EVERYONE has WAY more than me! Why can't I just have ONE single thing that I want for once?"
Note: This is one of my all time biggest pet peeves as a mother. I simply cannot stand putting in my blood, sweat, and tears just to be met with ungrateful whines and pleas that make it so brutally clear that my all will never be quite good enough. That said... I get it. I do. He's only almost 11 and let's face it- a human. Who of us hasn't thought that the grass just MIGHT be greener on the other side of the fence once or twice? So... I held my tongue (this time.) I simply stared at him as he went off about the injustice.
Then, he paused. The saying "I could see the wheels turning in his head" seems exceptionally appropriate as I felt like I could literally watch his brain switch gears. Seeming to be suddenly aware that he sounded like a big ingrate, he tried a new tactic. It went something like this:
"Okay, I know... I know... I have shelter, and food, and clothing, and education. Oh, and health care. But I mean, besides having my basic needs met... I don't have..."
He stumbled around with that for a few minutes more (going on and on about how ALL of the kids in his class have way more modern technology and way funner toys than we do) as I continued to stare at him in silence. Thankfully, he switched gears again. Just as quickly as his tirade had started, he let out a deep sigh of resignation and said, "I think I'm gonna shut up now." and turned around and walked out looking content as the cat that caught the canary.
I love that his thoughts basically came full circle and I never had to even utter a word. It's so interesting to me actually. The thing is, I have a major problem with the way that we as a society are so "gimme" oriented. I remember several years ago when I was a teenage mom and I felt like I had to bend over backwards to try to achieve enough to allow my children to have a "real" life. Of course, my ideals were unrealistic and when they weren't met, we all survived. Not to mention, learned and grew. That's when I first realized my first mistake: I thought that in order to be a "real" happy family we had to be living the "American Dream" which in my mind was a perfect suburban house with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids that were in every extracurricular activity imaginable and were always perfectly dressed. Only:
A. The concept of an "American Dream" didn't actually make all that much sense when I considered that when you break the words down what you're looking at is America (not the whole world or even all of the developed countries but one lone country that isn't all that popular due to it's known greed and corruption) and Dream (which can be defined as a series of mental images and emotions occurring in the mind; "I had a dream about you last night"
imaginative thoughts indulged in while awake; "he lives in a dream that has nothing to do with reality" have a daydream; indulge in a fantasy ;a state of mind characterized by abstraction and release from reality; "he went about his work as if in a dream" ) So, I was stressing myself out about an imaginative thought that is connected to a lifestyle in one country. My real life was still way better than a lot of other people's and as poor as I felt at times I was definitely better off than most of the people in Africa and Afghanistan just to name a couple of places.
And B. Nothing will ever be enough unless we first appreciate what we have. We all do it. We want that new car so badly. Then, after we've had it for a little while we start looking around at all of the other new vehicles on the road and we don't like our car that much anymore. Don't get me started on how many times I've changed my mind on what color I want my kitchen painted alone. And no matter how long ago you bought your cell phone / computer / gaming system you can bet that something newer and better is in on the horizon sooner than you can call your new crack berry a dinosaur. When will we ever be satisfied unless we stop in our tracks and take stock of how much we actually have to be thankful for?
My point is this: I'm so relieved that even though Tatton got greedy for a moment, I'm so relieved that he caught on to his thought error & corrected it on his own. It gives me hope that MAYBE someday my kids will be able to look back on their childhood with fond memories of family togetherness and special traditions and feel like they were blessed. This parenting thing can get a little scary and it's nice to have hope that I'm not just raising materialistic people who don't know how to be thankful for how good life really is. What are you thankful for?
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
I Wanna Fall In Love
All over again. Our life has just felt so... ordinary lately. Lots of end of the school year activities and events. Brooke's Birthday coming up. Brother-in-law moved in with us. Never-ending laundry & dishes, of course. The park is SLAMMED with people coming to escape the heat with a swim. Fun for them, work for me. I'm ready for our Anniversary. The big One-Three. We usually try to go away for the weekend or something. This year we're talking about going to Victoria, B.C. I can't WAIT! I miss my husband. We feel a little like strangers co-existing in this crazy busy world. I'm dying to just leave the "real world" behind for a couple of days. Only one more month... The count down begins.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
More Real Than I've Ever Been
I'm angry. You have no idea how hard it is for me to say that. It's true though, I'm angry. I saw my dad at the elementary school on Friday (he was there to pick up my little sister and I was there to pick up my oldest son.) This was the first time that I'd talked to him in two years and it was awkward and sad. I haven't been "not talking" to him as some people believe. Stubborn snobbishness isn't really my thing and I would never fully cut off any member of my family no matter what. I'm much more the unconditional love type and I do love him to death. Every thing's just been so messed up and complicated though.
When my parents were going through their divorce, I was torn as they both wanted me to take their side. I told them that I refused to take sides. I didn't testify in court for either one of them, although they both wanted me to testify against the other parent. For a while, they both told me stuff about the other person that was hurtful and confusing. I told myself that I was an adult and I'd handle their divorce like an adult. I'm mature enough to understand that some people are better off apart, that everyone makes mistakes, and that for some couples it's just too much to move on (at least in a healthy manner) after those mistakes. I've never felt angry that they got divorced. What I'm angry about is the way that it all went down (is still going down) and that I feel a little like an orphan whose parents are still alive sometimes.
I have a lot of friends who have lost their parents to death and I feel sympathy for them. Sometimes I selfishly think that they have it easier though. More than likely, if their parents were alive they would be present in their lives. They didn't choose to leave them. I haven't talked to my dad in two years because he chose not to. I don't really even fully understand exactly what happened, because like I said, there wasn't a fight that resulted in us "not speaking" or anything. I just never took any one's side and I think that hurt their feelings. I'm not sure. My mom called me and told me that he doesn't even think I'm his biological daughter. She said that he accused her of saying that I was his when I was really the product of incest. I heard a lot of this kind of stuff as well as had people come up to me and say, "Your dad says, 'My daughter won't even talk to me." Which isn't true. Every time he ever called me or stopped by I was happy to talk to him. I just changed the subject whenever it turned to bashing the other parent and when it started getting really bad I avoided both parents and figured that if they wanted to talk to me they knew where I was. I didn't pursue either of them really. I guess in my mind it seemed like if they really cared and wanted to have a relationship that they would seek me out.
I called him on Father's Day and got his voice mail and left a message. Same with his Birthday. He didn't call back and I'm guessing that he was probably screening those calls to begin with. He didn't call me on my Birthday or my kids' or any Holiday for that matter. We live in the same town and somehow we've managed to not see each other for two years. That is, until Friday. When I pulled into the school parking lot and saw him, my heart raced with anxiety. I had no idea what to say / how to say it. Underneath it all, I was thrilled to see him. I just didn't know how to act. I wanted to make sure that he understood that I was happy to see him but I didn't want to act too eager & get rejected either.
I've been thinking about this ever since. I've been wondering if I shouldn't be the grown-up and make the first move and pursue him after all. Should I show up for a visit? leave frequent voice mail messages just so he knows that I do care? Then, part of me realizes that I AM angry. I don't think it's fair that I should have to take on that role. I'm his child. I can't imagine that my kids could ever do anything to make me do this to them. I somewhat expect at least something to come between us through the process of changing from child to adult & as they assert their independence. As a parent, I realize that I won't always get my way. That my kids are their own individuals and we won't always see eye to eye. I'm prepared to love them regardless and to be their to support them along the way. I don't understand how anyone can just not talk to their kids. Not be there for them. I NEED to feel more loved and accepted than I do even though I'm an adult and am capable of rationalizing the reasons behind the void.
Today, I took a quiz on Face book. I believe the title was, "Which Book Of The Bible Are You?" Here's my result:
Hosea
You are in touch with the pain of rejection and this puts you in touch with God. You remain faithful though others do not remain faithful to you. In this way you are like God and it is a benefit to you, though it is painful. Because of this experience you have a message to communicate of God's love - and also of the judgment that will come if we refuse to know God.
This struck a chord because I remembered the day 8 years ago that I felt that same thought in my spirit. We were living in a travel trailer on my in-laws property. I had a 3 year old, a 1 year old, a newborn, and was taking care of my 9 month old little sister. My marriage was in shambles and my parents were separated and both coming to me to vent and to watch my baby sister. I had very few friends because I was a young mother and most of the people I had been friends with before were just leaving for college & once I was married with kids they acted like they didn't know what to do around me. Of course, the fellow parents in my kid's preschool class were more like my parents' age and were clearly uncomfortable around me. They were friendly but it was obvious that they thought of me as a kid more than a peer. I was so incredible lonely and I just kept giving and giving because I felt like if I gave enough that someone would notice and appreciate it and love me. As my mom dropped off my little sister in a hurry one day, I felt a pang of heartache that she didn't stop and talk to me again. I tried to shove that down inside and ignore it, telling myself that it wasn't personal. That life was just busy for both of us.
All of a sudden though, I felt something inside of me say, "This is how I feel about you." and I knew that I was guilty of doing the same thing in my relationship with God. How often had I said a rushed, generic prayer because it was dinner or bedtime? I suddenly felt guilty about all of the times that I had prayed because I needed something and that I rarely prayed just to say thank you. If I truly loved Him, I would take the time to learn about Him. The only time I read my scriptures was to help me fall asleep though. How could I take and take and take and never give back like I had? I knew in my heart that I had a purpose and yet I've always ignored it because I was lazy and didn't want to get out of my comfort zone.
So, between running into my Dad and taking that Facebook quiz, I'm realizing something. I have been rejected and I am angry, but I can't just sit in that anger forever or wait for it to just magically go away. I understand that anger is like taking poison and then waiting for the other person to die. I need to channel it, grow from it, and use it to help other people the way that I was meant to. NOT because I expext some sort of emotional reward or acceptance because of it, but because my Heavenly Father wants me to. And He deserves it, because He's the only Father who will love me unconditionally. I've treated my earthly Father way better than I have treated my Heavenly Father and yet it's Him who keeps seeking me out. And even though I still don't think it's fair to be in this situation, I think I'll pursue my Dad so that he knows that I unconditionally love him. You've gotta be the change you want to see in the world. (Even if it hurts...)
When my parents were going through their divorce, I was torn as they both wanted me to take their side. I told them that I refused to take sides. I didn't testify in court for either one of them, although they both wanted me to testify against the other parent. For a while, they both told me stuff about the other person that was hurtful and confusing. I told myself that I was an adult and I'd handle their divorce like an adult. I'm mature enough to understand that some people are better off apart, that everyone makes mistakes, and that for some couples it's just too much to move on (at least in a healthy manner) after those mistakes. I've never felt angry that they got divorced. What I'm angry about is the way that it all went down (is still going down) and that I feel a little like an orphan whose parents are still alive sometimes.
I have a lot of friends who have lost their parents to death and I feel sympathy for them. Sometimes I selfishly think that they have it easier though. More than likely, if their parents were alive they would be present in their lives. They didn't choose to leave them. I haven't talked to my dad in two years because he chose not to. I don't really even fully understand exactly what happened, because like I said, there wasn't a fight that resulted in us "not speaking" or anything. I just never took any one's side and I think that hurt their feelings. I'm not sure. My mom called me and told me that he doesn't even think I'm his biological daughter. She said that he accused her of saying that I was his when I was really the product of incest. I heard a lot of this kind of stuff as well as had people come up to me and say, "Your dad says, 'My daughter won't even talk to me." Which isn't true. Every time he ever called me or stopped by I was happy to talk to him. I just changed the subject whenever it turned to bashing the other parent and when it started getting really bad I avoided both parents and figured that if they wanted to talk to me they knew where I was. I didn't pursue either of them really. I guess in my mind it seemed like if they really cared and wanted to have a relationship that they would seek me out.
I called him on Father's Day and got his voice mail and left a message. Same with his Birthday. He didn't call back and I'm guessing that he was probably screening those calls to begin with. He didn't call me on my Birthday or my kids' or any Holiday for that matter. We live in the same town and somehow we've managed to not see each other for two years. That is, until Friday. When I pulled into the school parking lot and saw him, my heart raced with anxiety. I had no idea what to say / how to say it. Underneath it all, I was thrilled to see him. I just didn't know how to act. I wanted to make sure that he understood that I was happy to see him but I didn't want to act too eager & get rejected either.
I've been thinking about this ever since. I've been wondering if I shouldn't be the grown-up and make the first move and pursue him after all. Should I show up for a visit? leave frequent voice mail messages just so he knows that I do care? Then, part of me realizes that I AM angry. I don't think it's fair that I should have to take on that role. I'm his child. I can't imagine that my kids could ever do anything to make me do this to them. I somewhat expect at least something to come between us through the process of changing from child to adult & as they assert their independence. As a parent, I realize that I won't always get my way. That my kids are their own individuals and we won't always see eye to eye. I'm prepared to love them regardless and to be their to support them along the way. I don't understand how anyone can just not talk to their kids. Not be there for them. I NEED to feel more loved and accepted than I do even though I'm an adult and am capable of rationalizing the reasons behind the void.
Today, I took a quiz on Face book. I believe the title was, "Which Book Of The Bible Are You?" Here's my result:
Hosea
You are in touch with the pain of rejection and this puts you in touch with God. You remain faithful though others do not remain faithful to you. In this way you are like God and it is a benefit to you, though it is painful. Because of this experience you have a message to communicate of God's love - and also of the judgment that will come if we refuse to know God.
This struck a chord because I remembered the day 8 years ago that I felt that same thought in my spirit. We were living in a travel trailer on my in-laws property. I had a 3 year old, a 1 year old, a newborn, and was taking care of my 9 month old little sister. My marriage was in shambles and my parents were separated and both coming to me to vent and to watch my baby sister. I had very few friends because I was a young mother and most of the people I had been friends with before were just leaving for college & once I was married with kids they acted like they didn't know what to do around me. Of course, the fellow parents in my kid's preschool class were more like my parents' age and were clearly uncomfortable around me. They were friendly but it was obvious that they thought of me as a kid more than a peer. I was so incredible lonely and I just kept giving and giving because I felt like if I gave enough that someone would notice and appreciate it and love me. As my mom dropped off my little sister in a hurry one day, I felt a pang of heartache that she didn't stop and talk to me again. I tried to shove that down inside and ignore it, telling myself that it wasn't personal. That life was just busy for both of us.
All of a sudden though, I felt something inside of me say, "This is how I feel about you." and I knew that I was guilty of doing the same thing in my relationship with God. How often had I said a rushed, generic prayer because it was dinner or bedtime? I suddenly felt guilty about all of the times that I had prayed because I needed something and that I rarely prayed just to say thank you. If I truly loved Him, I would take the time to learn about Him. The only time I read my scriptures was to help me fall asleep though. How could I take and take and take and never give back like I had? I knew in my heart that I had a purpose and yet I've always ignored it because I was lazy and didn't want to get out of my comfort zone.
So, between running into my Dad and taking that Facebook quiz, I'm realizing something. I have been rejected and I am angry, but I can't just sit in that anger forever or wait for it to just magically go away. I understand that anger is like taking poison and then waiting for the other person to die. I need to channel it, grow from it, and use it to help other people the way that I was meant to. NOT because I expext some sort of emotional reward or acceptance because of it, but because my Heavenly Father wants me to. And He deserves it, because He's the only Father who will love me unconditionally. I've treated my earthly Father way better than I have treated my Heavenly Father and yet it's Him who keeps seeking me out. And even though I still don't think it's fair to be in this situation, I think I'll pursue my Dad so that he knows that I unconditionally love him. You've gotta be the change you want to see in the world. (Even if it hurts...)
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Can't A Girl Get A Little Privacy?
This evening I got yelled at in the grocery store by a dermatologist. I've been painting the family business for the last couple of days (and wearing sunblock!) and I've got a lobster-ish look going. My eight year old and I were on the pudding aisle breaking down the cost of buying pudding cups in bulk vs. buying the mix and milk and making it ourselves. This man came along and smiled at me. I thought, "Oh- he thinks it's funny that I'm talking about the cost of pudding at length with a child." Then, he opened his mouth. Turns out I read his expression wrong. His smile was more like a smirk and that smirk was more like a look of disdain (the same look that people have when they feel awkwardly sorry for the homeless person begging for change on the corner and don't know how to react. Or maybe on second thought, the look that they get when the bumbling fool working the drive-thru window at the local fast food restaurant just can't seem to get their order right repeatedly.) He berated me for allowing myself to get burnt and warned me of the evils of UV rays. As usual, I attempted to lighten the situation with humor and joked that I was planning on going to The Relay For Life tonight but might get kicked out by the skin cancer group. He didn't laugh with me though.
The thing is, I'm getting really sick of people sticking their noses where they don't belong. Yes, I get that he was well meaning. He's not the first person this week or even today to be annoying though. Yesterday, I took my son to his bi-weekly therapy session. Interestingly enough, I ran into my long lost aunt that I hadn't seen in a decade. Since there's apparently not much else to do in waiting rooms, she filled me in on the soap opera of the the years of her life that I had missed. Her poor daughter (my sons age) was there for a counseling appointment due to (well, let's say a series of unfortunate events) and had to sit there as her mother told me all the bloody details on her daughter's problems (in front of her.) Then, she turned the table and said, "So, why does he have to see the therapist?" As if I was gonna sit there and spill my child's issues out for everyone in the waiting room. (I only do that sort of embarrassing gossiping on my blog because as we all know blogging is different. ;-)
I realize that I probably make people uncomfortable at times too. It's funny how it's okay for me to dish out TMI, but I get offended by other people's "openness". Let's face it though, nobody likes a dermatologist who brings his work with him to the grocery store or a fellow waiting room attendee who says, "So what are you in for?"
The thing is, I'm getting really sick of people sticking their noses where they don't belong. Yes, I get that he was well meaning. He's not the first person this week or even today to be annoying though. Yesterday, I took my son to his bi-weekly therapy session. Interestingly enough, I ran into my long lost aunt that I hadn't seen in a decade. Since there's apparently not much else to do in waiting rooms, she filled me in on the soap opera of the the years of her life that I had missed. Her poor daughter (my sons age) was there for a counseling appointment due to (well, let's say a series of unfortunate events) and had to sit there as her mother told me all the bloody details on her daughter's problems (in front of her.) Then, she turned the table and said, "So, why does he have to see the therapist?" As if I was gonna sit there and spill my child's issues out for everyone in the waiting room. (I only do that sort of embarrassing gossiping on my blog because as we all know blogging is different. ;-)
I realize that I probably make people uncomfortable at times too. It's funny how it's okay for me to dish out TMI, but I get offended by other people's "openness". Let's face it though, nobody likes a dermatologist who brings his work with him to the grocery store or a fellow waiting room attendee who says, "So what are you in for?"
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Things I'll Do For $$$- (not for the weak of stomach)
I don't work 9-to-5. That's not the way I make my livin'. Nope, I clean public park bathrooms & empty 42 garbage cans whenever they need it. It's much like mothering. You can't help it if your baby's diaper needs changing at 2 AM. You just power through it. So it is with backed up toilets and vandalism. It doesn't matter if I'm wearing my best high heels and shiny red lipstick to go out on the town with my man. If the bathroom is in trouble, I must come to the rescue. It's sort of hilarious, because I do have a decent head on my shoulders and yet I REALLY, really like this nasty, manual labor stuff. I could have been a doctor... or a lawyer... or a, well anything I set my mind to. I'm scrubbing toilets though. And most days, it suits me.
Of course, there are the occasional times that I really, really, REALLY hate my job. For the first two weeks straight after we opened up the bathrooms for the season (they're locked during the months that freeze to prevent busted pipes) someone was "decorating" the bathrooms with their feces. Yes, feces. They started off small by wiping it all over the toilet seat and wiping with a pair of thermal wool socks then shoving those socks down into the toilet so that it flooded over on to the floor when flushed. That was pretty. Stuff like that happens though, so I just put on some rubber boots and latex gloves and cleaned it up. No big. The next day, they skipped the toilet and left a steaming pile on the floor in front of the toilet though. I was not impressed. Keep in mind that this was back when I had just discovered that I was pregnant.
As the days went on, there were more piles. Always in the same spot. My ten year old son commented, "Whoa! What? Are they taking the All-Bran 10 day challenge or something?!" Unfortunately, it went on like this. Until one day, this person had written "Hi" with their stool sample on the bathroom wall. It totally creeped me out that they were leaving these "presents" for us and now "communicating". Later that night, we went to lock the bathrooms up for the night and there was a 5 gallon bucket in the same spot that the piles had been in filled with a toxic mix of vomit and poop. Poor Dustin had to carry it. We had to figure out what in the heck to even do with it. If it weren't so late at night, I probably would have called the health department for advice on how to dispose of toxic waste. My hubby & I laughed at the absurdity of the things that we have had conversations about since taking this job.
When I found yet another present the next day, I called the Sheriff's department to see what could be done. I was desperately wishing real life played out like CSI and they could just DNA test it. He was intrigued, but he didn't really have a whole lot of advice. He basically said that if it were him, he would just lock the bathrooms up and put a sign on the door saying, "Closed due to ongoing vandalism." We wavered between doing that and leaving them open so that we could finally catch who was doing it. My kids would ask me (eyes sparkling), "Mom? If you walked in on him doing it, would you beat him up?!" They REALLY loved the idea of me (total non-fighter) opening a can on the "bad guy". I told them that I wasn't going to start a fight with a guy who was in the middle of a BM, but that I would totally lock the bathroom gate so that he couldn't get out and call 911. They didn't think that sounded nearly as exciting.
Fortunately, it just stopped as suddenly as it started. I'm not sure why, but I'm thankful. I'm not going to pretend that aside from that issue the job is pretty. Believe me, you don't want to empty 42 garbage cans that have been fermenting in the heat. When I'm done with this job, I may be ready to become some sort of Maggot Specialist (they have those, right?) I bet you that I could qualify as an expert on maggot life stages. Don't get me started on how many people that I have witnessed in the throws of extra marital affairs. I've lived in this SMALL town my entire life. WHY on earth do these people insist on coming to my backyard for this? And why is the average time of day for cheating in a car without tinted windows right when the school bus drives by? I've lost count of how many used condoms and hypodermic needles I've had to pick up & dispose of. And they call parks family places. Ha!
So, why do I do it you ask? Simple. We get paid to live in our house and it allows me to be a stay at home mom a little longer. Not to mention, what would I have had to blog about today and gross you out with otherwise?
Of course, there are the occasional times that I really, really, REALLY hate my job. For the first two weeks straight after we opened up the bathrooms for the season (they're locked during the months that freeze to prevent busted pipes) someone was "decorating" the bathrooms with their feces. Yes, feces. They started off small by wiping it all over the toilet seat and wiping with a pair of thermal wool socks then shoving those socks down into the toilet so that it flooded over on to the floor when flushed. That was pretty. Stuff like that happens though, so I just put on some rubber boots and latex gloves and cleaned it up. No big. The next day, they skipped the toilet and left a steaming pile on the floor in front of the toilet though. I was not impressed. Keep in mind that this was back when I had just discovered that I was pregnant.
As the days went on, there were more piles. Always in the same spot. My ten year old son commented, "Whoa! What? Are they taking the All-Bran 10 day challenge or something?!" Unfortunately, it went on like this. Until one day, this person had written "Hi" with their stool sample on the bathroom wall. It totally creeped me out that they were leaving these "presents" for us and now "communicating". Later that night, we went to lock the bathrooms up for the night and there was a 5 gallon bucket in the same spot that the piles had been in filled with a toxic mix of vomit and poop. Poor Dustin had to carry it. We had to figure out what in the heck to even do with it. If it weren't so late at night, I probably would have called the health department for advice on how to dispose of toxic waste. My hubby & I laughed at the absurdity of the things that we have had conversations about since taking this job.
When I found yet another present the next day, I called the Sheriff's department to see what could be done. I was desperately wishing real life played out like CSI and they could just DNA test it. He was intrigued, but he didn't really have a whole lot of advice. He basically said that if it were him, he would just lock the bathrooms up and put a sign on the door saying, "Closed due to ongoing vandalism." We wavered between doing that and leaving them open so that we could finally catch who was doing it. My kids would ask me (eyes sparkling), "Mom? If you walked in on him doing it, would you beat him up?!" They REALLY loved the idea of me (total non-fighter) opening a can on the "bad guy". I told them that I wasn't going to start a fight with a guy who was in the middle of a BM, but that I would totally lock the bathroom gate so that he couldn't get out and call 911. They didn't think that sounded nearly as exciting.
Fortunately, it just stopped as suddenly as it started. I'm not sure why, but I'm thankful. I'm not going to pretend that aside from that issue the job is pretty. Believe me, you don't want to empty 42 garbage cans that have been fermenting in the heat. When I'm done with this job, I may be ready to become some sort of Maggot Specialist (they have those, right?) I bet you that I could qualify as an expert on maggot life stages. Don't get me started on how many people that I have witnessed in the throws of extra marital affairs. I've lived in this SMALL town my entire life. WHY on earth do these people insist on coming to my backyard for this? And why is the average time of day for cheating in a car without tinted windows right when the school bus drives by? I've lost count of how many used condoms and hypodermic needles I've had to pick up & dispose of. And they call parks family places. Ha!
So, why do I do it you ask? Simple. We get paid to live in our house and it allows me to be a stay at home mom a little longer. Not to mention, what would I have had to blog about today and gross you out with otherwise?
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Marriage Mania
Being married is a terrifying venture when you really open your eyes and look around. I feel like I am so happily married and at the same time sometimes I feel like I'm ready to just throw in the towel. Truth be told, there's absolutely no way that I would still be married if I weren't so bloody stubborn about not failing.
It's not his fault. Like I said, I'm happily married. I think we really fit together and balance each other out beautifully. None of the things that bother me about him are deal breakers. He says he feels likewise about my flaws. So, what is my problem?
I'll tell you: I'm scared to death of wasting my time and getting my heart broken. My parents were married for 25 LONG years before they got divorced. I see a lot of that actually. Every time that I hear about another couple who had made it a couple of decades before "spontaneously" combusting my heart begins to race and I break out in a cold sweat. Most of them seemed so happy. Meant for each other. Content.
Further complicating my fears is that I have NO idea how to prevent this. I mean, we go out of our way to spend quality time together. We try hard to respect one another. Two people both caring enough to make an effort to keep the romance alive is a solid start, right? That said, most of the other couples that I've referred to seemed to be doing the same. So, what happened to them?
I just can't stand the thought of investing so much of myself for so many years of my life just to have him come to me 10 or 15 years done the road to say, "I'm done." I honestly don't know how anyone can succesfully move on from that. I look at my mom as she struggles with being alone (even though she did want to get divorced) and I just think, "What would I do?" Dustin & I are so used to being together and we have so many habits, routines, and traditions. I can't imagine having to rebuild a new life with someone else when I'm so commited to this life that it feels as natural as breathing.
I was watching the Elizabeth Edwards interview on Oprah the other day. Here they are, this couple that has been married since 1977. They share 4 children (two of which they went through fertility treatments to conceive.) They've weathered the storms of losing a child and her battle with cancer. You can see the love they share just looking at them. And yet he cheated on her.
When asked about why she's still with him Elizabeth said, "He [John] has provided for us. He has -- you know, his fathering has been nearly perfect. His caring for me, with this really big painful exception, has been extraordinary, through Wade's death, through the cancer ... You have to say, is that -- is this piece, this piece which is so painful, so big, that it obscures all of those other things. And did I think about that? I did think about that. But in the end I decided it did not ... My forgiving him has allowed me to let go of a lot of the pain."
Which makes me wonder how I would handle that pain. I think I would (like a lot of these couples) fight to the death to save my marriage. I try to imagine something so big that it would make me okay with walking away from my husband forever & all I can think is that I wish I could be tough. I wish I could be such an independent woman that I could just see everything as black & white instead of this emotional rainbow mess that I see through my rose colored glasses. Sometimes I romanticize this tough, I-don't-need-a-man mama so well that I wonder why I don't just run now before my love grows even more (threatening any chance that I ever have of not having my heart broken.)
Luckily, I know that this is ridiculous. I realize that my fear itself is probably the biggest threat to my happiness and I have no intention of giving it any more power than I already have. I still really wish that more couples stuck it out though so I didn't have to worry at all. And I'm going to really enjoy our date night tonight. I'm not taking anything for granted.
It's not his fault. Like I said, I'm happily married. I think we really fit together and balance each other out beautifully. None of the things that bother me about him are deal breakers. He says he feels likewise about my flaws. So, what is my problem?
I'll tell you: I'm scared to death of wasting my time and getting my heart broken. My parents were married for 25 LONG years before they got divorced. I see a lot of that actually. Every time that I hear about another couple who had made it a couple of decades before "spontaneously" combusting my heart begins to race and I break out in a cold sweat. Most of them seemed so happy. Meant for each other. Content.
Further complicating my fears is that I have NO idea how to prevent this. I mean, we go out of our way to spend quality time together. We try hard to respect one another. Two people both caring enough to make an effort to keep the romance alive is a solid start, right? That said, most of the other couples that I've referred to seemed to be doing the same. So, what happened to them?
I just can't stand the thought of investing so much of myself for so many years of my life just to have him come to me 10 or 15 years done the road to say, "I'm done." I honestly don't know how anyone can succesfully move on from that. I look at my mom as she struggles with being alone (even though she did want to get divorced) and I just think, "What would I do?" Dustin & I are so used to being together and we have so many habits, routines, and traditions. I can't imagine having to rebuild a new life with someone else when I'm so commited to this life that it feels as natural as breathing.
I was watching the Elizabeth Edwards interview on Oprah the other day. Here they are, this couple that has been married since 1977. They share 4 children (two of which they went through fertility treatments to conceive.) They've weathered the storms of losing a child and her battle with cancer. You can see the love they share just looking at them. And yet he cheated on her.
When asked about why she's still with him Elizabeth said, "He [John] has provided for us. He has -- you know, his fathering has been nearly perfect. His caring for me, with this really big painful exception, has been extraordinary, through Wade's death, through the cancer ... You have to say, is that -- is this piece, this piece which is so painful, so big, that it obscures all of those other things. And did I think about that? I did think about that. But in the end I decided it did not ... My forgiving him has allowed me to let go of a lot of the pain."
Which makes me wonder how I would handle that pain. I think I would (like a lot of these couples) fight to the death to save my marriage. I try to imagine something so big that it would make me okay with walking away from my husband forever & all I can think is that I wish I could be tough. I wish I could be such an independent woman that I could just see everything as black & white instead of this emotional rainbow mess that I see through my rose colored glasses. Sometimes I romanticize this tough, I-don't-need-a-man mama so well that I wonder why I don't just run now before my love grows even more (threatening any chance that I ever have of not having my heart broken.)
Luckily, I know that this is ridiculous. I realize that my fear itself is probably the biggest threat to my happiness and I have no intention of giving it any more power than I already have. I still really wish that more couples stuck it out though so I didn't have to worry at all. And I'm going to really enjoy our date night tonight. I'm not taking anything for granted.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Summer Lovin'
At the risk of sounding completely mental, I'm gonna say that I'm really looking forward to summer. Yes, I realize that summer = kids 24/7 and that it wasn't all that long ago that I blogged about spring break killing me. Before that, I blogged about school closures for snow & floods driving me mad. I'm aware of the irony. I'm just so ready to chill out a bit schedule wise though. Take tonight for instance: I began getting the kids into bed at 8:00 PM. At 9:00 PM they were all still awake and whining about the injustice of going to sleep while it was still daylight out. To which the only decent reply that I could come up with was that I'm a horrible, monstrous ogre of a mother that doesn't want them to fall asleep in class. If it were summer vacation, we could have built a fire and roasted some marshmallows for smores instead and just slept in in the morning. At 10:00 PM, the boys had all finally fallen asleep but Brooke had gotten over tired to the point that instead of resting she was bawling that she missed her slide bed. Apparently, it was "the only bed I ever loved." (For those of you not in the know, her slide bed was a loft bed with a metal slide on it that she had outgrown and it took up 75% of her bedroom. We sold it on craiglist to get her a "big girl bed" over a year ago.) Now, it's the bed that got away.
OKay, off subject, I just clicked spellcheck and it's telling me that smores isn't a word. Neither is Craigslist. Is that true? I mean, smores... come on... Well, anyway, I want to go camping. I'd really like to go on a good hike. Washington summers are often gorgeous, 70 degree affairs just perfect for getting out in nature and taking in the insane amount of beautiful green-ness (Now that I know is not a word. No spell check required.) I'm psyched to see the kids run their lemonade stand some more. People are so good. Did you know that they almost always get tipped? I would have never have thought to tip at a lemonade stand. Heck, I'm sort of grossed out at the thought of drinking lemonade that was possibly made by children and would most likely never stop at a random lemonade stand & actually drink the stuff anyway. (Don't drink the Kool-Aid!!!) Hmm... I'm curious if spell check likes the word Kool-Aid or not. Let me see...
Nope. It would take Aid but not Kool. Interesting. Oh, okay... It will accept Koolaid. I could have sworn it was hyphenated.
There are only 24 days of school left. Which means that there are only 26 days until my baby girl turns seven years old. It's hard to believe that my YOUNGEST child is a shoe tying, fluent reading, teeth missing, real life first grader turning second grader. I'm actually kind of not okay with it, but just like all things I tell her not to do, she just keeps getting older even though I tell her to stop. One good thing about having older kids is that our summer vacation IS admittedly less complicated when we can go to the beach and not worry that any of our children will eat the sand or stick random objects up their nose. Having everyone potty trained helps too. My friend Chelsea & I were talking earlier about the logistics of going hiking with an infant. Kelty backpacks are fabulous, but where are you supposed to dispose of diapers when you're in the middle of nowhere? I mean, do you seriously have to pack it in pack it out? Yuck. I don't think we're missing out on anything there.
So, there you have it: the random ramblings of my sleepy mind. I'm dieting & exercising again. My brain is always a little, um, quirky on a diet. Hmm... maybe that's where the jonesing for smores thing came in... So, what are your summer plans?
Monday, May 4, 2009
My Eggo Was Preggo
So... it's been a while. I feel a little like we're strangers. And yet, I'm about to get very personal because, well, blogging is my therapy. So, here goes:
Even though I had my tubes tied 7 years ago AND was on birth control for my slew of female problems, I somehow managed to conceive. To quote my husband, "Future President, a real go-getter!" However, on Saturday, I miscarried (cutting the Future Prez's life short even by Presidential standards. Hey, even JFK made it to an untimely 46 years.) I was trying to prepare myself for a possible tubal pregnancy and was trying REALLY hard not to get my hopes up until my doctor appointment on Wednesday (when I would find out the status.) I don't think I actually did that great of a job of preparing myself for disappointment though, because I am REALLY disappointed. I keep looking at Dustin and wanting to just kick him in the side of the head. Don't worry, I've been controlling myself and sticking solely to verbal abuse.
On Saturday when it happened, I was fairly busy. Having a miscarriage didn't really fit into my schedule. Dustin was at work. Tatton had two soccer games. Someone vandalized the bathrooms at the park with feces (again). More on that in a future blog... I had 12 loads of laundry to do and the kids all had extra homework that they needed help with. All I could think as I sat there on the sidelines at T's soccer game was, "Wow, I'm such a phony. I'm sitting here having a miscarriage and acting like every thing's fine. If I don't even have time to slow down & have a miscarriage, who was I fooling thinking I had time for another baby?" Over the last couple of days, I've told my self stuff like that over & over.
"It's for the best this way."
"I probably lost it because there was something wrong with it."
"I didn't want to start a pregnancy off at this weight anyway. This gives me time to lose weight before I try again."
"I wasn't even taking prenatal vitamins yet..."
"The economy is horrible. I can't even afford another kid."
"At least my morning sickness is gone."
You name it, I've been fibbing to myself about it to try to feel better. Then, I walk through Target and start bawling. It seemed like everywhere I turned there were diapers, cute onesies, maternity clothes, little baby sandals, mothers pushing carts with cooing, bald headed little people in them. I began to wonder if the entire retail industry revolves entirely around young mothers and their spawn. Suddenly, I had a horrible case of the gimme's and I desperately wanted to buy everything in site. Thank goodness I only carry cash. A credit card would have been a nightmare in my current state or mind. And I realize: I get Nadya Suleman (the Octo-Mom.) Why can't I just be happy with the 4 wonderful kids I've already been blessed with? Am I crazy to want more? To go into a wierd denial meets depression meets greed meets spousal abuse funk just because I lost a baby after I'd already voluntarily tied my tubes?
So, whatever you do: feel sorry for my husband because I've found my anger has to be directed somewhere and it's better him than the children.
Even though I had my tubes tied 7 years ago AND was on birth control for my slew of female problems, I somehow managed to conceive. To quote my husband, "Future President, a real go-getter!" However, on Saturday, I miscarried (cutting the Future Prez's life short even by Presidential standards. Hey, even JFK made it to an untimely 46 years.) I was trying to prepare myself for a possible tubal pregnancy and was trying REALLY hard not to get my hopes up until my doctor appointment on Wednesday (when I would find out the status.) I don't think I actually did that great of a job of preparing myself for disappointment though, because I am REALLY disappointed. I keep looking at Dustin and wanting to just kick him in the side of the head. Don't worry, I've been controlling myself and sticking solely to verbal abuse.
On Saturday when it happened, I was fairly busy. Having a miscarriage didn't really fit into my schedule. Dustin was at work. Tatton had two soccer games. Someone vandalized the bathrooms at the park with feces (again). More on that in a future blog... I had 12 loads of laundry to do and the kids all had extra homework that they needed help with. All I could think as I sat there on the sidelines at T's soccer game was, "Wow, I'm such a phony. I'm sitting here having a miscarriage and acting like every thing's fine. If I don't even have time to slow down & have a miscarriage, who was I fooling thinking I had time for another baby?" Over the last couple of days, I've told my self stuff like that over & over.
"It's for the best this way."
"I probably lost it because there was something wrong with it."
"I didn't want to start a pregnancy off at this weight anyway. This gives me time to lose weight before I try again."
"I wasn't even taking prenatal vitamins yet..."
"The economy is horrible. I can't even afford another kid."
"At least my morning sickness is gone."
You name it, I've been fibbing to myself about it to try to feel better. Then, I walk through Target and start bawling. It seemed like everywhere I turned there were diapers, cute onesies, maternity clothes, little baby sandals, mothers pushing carts with cooing, bald headed little people in them. I began to wonder if the entire retail industry revolves entirely around young mothers and their spawn. Suddenly, I had a horrible case of the gimme's and I desperately wanted to buy everything in site. Thank goodness I only carry cash. A credit card would have been a nightmare in my current state or mind. And I realize: I get Nadya Suleman (the Octo-Mom.) Why can't I just be happy with the 4 wonderful kids I've already been blessed with? Am I crazy to want more? To go into a wierd denial meets depression meets greed meets spousal abuse funk just because I lost a baby after I'd already voluntarily tied my tubes?
So, whatever you do: feel sorry for my husband because I've found my anger has to be directed somewhere and it's better him than the children.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Fairytale Rom-Action
My daughter is going through a medieval phase. Her new favorite hairstyle is to french braid it the night before so that it gets all wavy and then wear it half down with two intertwining braids on the top half. She wears her hair like this with whatever shirt she can find with the puffiest cap sleeves. I think she's trying to channel her inner Gwinevere. The other day we were driving to her 6 month check-up for her ear tubes. Our ENT is over an hour drive away. Brooke talked about fairy tales the whole time.
She announced from the back seat,"When I grow up I am going to be a princess."
She said it just as certainly as if she had said, "I want to be a teacher" or "I want to be a veterinarian."
Boring, logistical grown-up that I am, I responded, "Oh really? Are you going to marry a prince or something?"
Boy, that put a burr under her saddle! "NO!!! I'm NOT going to marry a prince, Mom! I'm just going to grow up to be a princess. A SINGLE princess!" She sat there, arms folded, face scowling.
Perhaps it's the result of having three older brothers, but to Brooke, the mention of her getting married when she grows up always elicits anger. How dare mean mom mention that nasty word!
This all got me thinking about why my mind instantly goes to prince when I think of princess. Maybe my daughter had a good point. Why should she have to have a prince to make her a princess? Was I stereotyping? Being sexist? Why couldn't a girl consider herself a princess without a Prince Charming? After all, it's us princesses that have to kiss the frogs to turn them into princes. Not the other way around.
I realized that in my own (REAL) life, I often think that I need my husband to confirm that I am in fact his queen before I see myself that way. I wondered, "If it weren't for that confirmation, would I still feel worthy?" I thought of the many different ways that we women count on the men in our lives for validation. Would I bother dressing up if I didn't want him to tell me that he thinks I'm pretty? Would my goals be the same if I didn't always have it in the back of my mind that I am HALF of a couple? Where along the line did we decide that we needed someone to "complete" us? (Thanks Jerry McGuire!)
Just this last Valentine's Day, Dustin brought home a rose & a box of Sweethearts for Brooke. This bothered me at first because she was the only one out of our four kids that he brought something home for. When I told him that I was afraid that he would hurt the boys' feelings, he told me that they need to learn that Valentine's is about men pampering women. Just like Brooke needs to learn that as a female, she deserves to be treated a certain way. If little girls grow up to marry men like their daddies, then he wants to treat her like a princess & set the bar high.
As a woman, this made me feel both lucky to have a husband that values women and equally terrified that we would create a monster. I don't want my daughter to have entitlement issues or to just expect to always have a man to take care of her. After all, life is what happens while you're busy planning for other things (John Lennon). We have no idea how her story will play out. I desperately want her to be strong enough to handle whatever comes her way as a SINGLE princess (as she put it.) If she ends up with a fabulous prince charming, then that's just gravy.
Following this line of thought, I got scared that I had been a horrible role model to her. While I still solidly believe that the greatest gift a father can give his children is to truly love their mother, had I somehow (by being a stay-at-home mom that could possibly be a little spoiled by my husband) have communicated to my kids that women NEED to be spoiled? I suddenly felt the urge to prove to them all just how strong I really was. I wanted them to know once and for all that their daddy and I treat each other the way we do because we enjoy being nice to each other, not because we think the other person is weak or incapable of taking care of them self. Sure, I'd RATHER bake cookies while he changes the oil on the car, but do I really want my daughter to think that she doesn't need to know how to do "guy stuff" since her mom never did?
My mind went on like this for a while. Then, I realized something else. Dustin & I haven't always been this nice to each other. Even though we've been married for so long now that it seems like forever ago, the reality is that the first several years of our marriage were TOUGH and we had to learn to treat each other with love and respect. We got married when Dustin was 19 and I was 17. Nineteen year old boys aren't necessarily ready to be good husbands yet. Seventeen year old girls aren't mature enough to be great wives. Dustin doesn't go out of his way to take care of me because that's the way it's always been. It's a dynamic that we created & grew into. Suddenly, I didn't feel so worried anymore, because looking at it from that perspective, I felt more like I'd EARNED my crown as Queen.
Our relationship isn't a fairytale full of romance and white horses. It's maybe 20% romance and more like 80% action to keep the romance alive. I was scared that we were setting our kids up for disappointment by letting them think that there was such a thing as happily ever after in this modern day & age. I'm glad that what they're actually seeing is that you have to work REALLY hard at whatever you do, including love. And I'm okay with letting my daughter think that she can grow up to be a princess (as long as that means she believes that she deserves true happiness and understands that she has the power to slay whatever fire breathing dragons stand in her way by herself.)
She announced from the back seat,"When I grow up I am going to be a princess."
She said it just as certainly as if she had said, "I want to be a teacher" or "I want to be a veterinarian."
Boring, logistical grown-up that I am, I responded, "Oh really? Are you going to marry a prince or something?"
Boy, that put a burr under her saddle! "NO!!! I'm NOT going to marry a prince, Mom! I'm just going to grow up to be a princess. A SINGLE princess!" She sat there, arms folded, face scowling.
Perhaps it's the result of having three older brothers, but to Brooke, the mention of her getting married when she grows up always elicits anger. How dare mean mom mention that nasty word!
This all got me thinking about why my mind instantly goes to prince when I think of princess. Maybe my daughter had a good point. Why should she have to have a prince to make her a princess? Was I stereotyping? Being sexist? Why couldn't a girl consider herself a princess without a Prince Charming? After all, it's us princesses that have to kiss the frogs to turn them into princes. Not the other way around.
I realized that in my own (REAL) life, I often think that I need my husband to confirm that I am in fact his queen before I see myself that way. I wondered, "If it weren't for that confirmation, would I still feel worthy?" I thought of the many different ways that we women count on the men in our lives for validation. Would I bother dressing up if I didn't want him to tell me that he thinks I'm pretty? Would my goals be the same if I didn't always have it in the back of my mind that I am HALF of a couple? Where along the line did we decide that we needed someone to "complete" us? (Thanks Jerry McGuire!)
Just this last Valentine's Day, Dustin brought home a rose & a box of Sweethearts for Brooke. This bothered me at first because she was the only one out of our four kids that he brought something home for. When I told him that I was afraid that he would hurt the boys' feelings, he told me that they need to learn that Valentine's is about men pampering women. Just like Brooke needs to learn that as a female, she deserves to be treated a certain way. If little girls grow up to marry men like their daddies, then he wants to treat her like a princess & set the bar high.
As a woman, this made me feel both lucky to have a husband that values women and equally terrified that we would create a monster. I don't want my daughter to have entitlement issues or to just expect to always have a man to take care of her. After all, life is what happens while you're busy planning for other things (John Lennon). We have no idea how her story will play out. I desperately want her to be strong enough to handle whatever comes her way as a SINGLE princess (as she put it.) If she ends up with a fabulous prince charming, then that's just gravy.
Following this line of thought, I got scared that I had been a horrible role model to her. While I still solidly believe that the greatest gift a father can give his children is to truly love their mother, had I somehow (by being a stay-at-home mom that could possibly be a little spoiled by my husband) have communicated to my kids that women NEED to be spoiled? I suddenly felt the urge to prove to them all just how strong I really was. I wanted them to know once and for all that their daddy and I treat each other the way we do because we enjoy being nice to each other, not because we think the other person is weak or incapable of taking care of them self. Sure, I'd RATHER bake cookies while he changes the oil on the car, but do I really want my daughter to think that she doesn't need to know how to do "guy stuff" since her mom never did?
My mind went on like this for a while. Then, I realized something else. Dustin & I haven't always been this nice to each other. Even though we've been married for so long now that it seems like forever ago, the reality is that the first several years of our marriage were TOUGH and we had to learn to treat each other with love and respect. We got married when Dustin was 19 and I was 17. Nineteen year old boys aren't necessarily ready to be good husbands yet. Seventeen year old girls aren't mature enough to be great wives. Dustin doesn't go out of his way to take care of me because that's the way it's always been. It's a dynamic that we created & grew into. Suddenly, I didn't feel so worried anymore, because looking at it from that perspective, I felt more like I'd EARNED my crown as Queen.
Our relationship isn't a fairytale full of romance and white horses. It's maybe 20% romance and more like 80% action to keep the romance alive. I was scared that we were setting our kids up for disappointment by letting them think that there was such a thing as happily ever after in this modern day & age. I'm glad that what they're actually seeing is that you have to work REALLY hard at whatever you do, including love. And I'm okay with letting my daughter think that she can grow up to be a princess (as long as that means she believes that she deserves true happiness and understands that she has the power to slay whatever fire breathing dragons stand in her way by herself.)
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Spring Break
Worst. Spring break. EVER.
It should NEVER snow on spring break! There should not be hailstorms. Or high wind warnings. My yard should not be so engorged with water that when I step on the spongy grass, I sink in and am douched with mud and water above my ankles. Spring break should be about trading in winter boots for cute, strappy sandals. My kids should be running around outside & picking daffodils. After they spent 10 minutes outside, I had to make them all hot cocoa. This is not right.
I know that I have officially entered "mom zone" because what I was most excited about going into spring break was organizing stuff. I made this handy dandy chart in which the plan to spring clean something each day was layed out. It was a thing of beauty. Some of it has gotten done. Some more of it has not. My poor, poor children. Here they are on spring break, the weather stinks and the conditions indoors (with mom nagging them to clean out their closet) aren't much better. They don't sound too disappointed when we talk about school starting back up on Monday.
Last night Dustin was flipping through the channels and he paused on a reality show with hundreds of bikini clad college kids partying on some tropical beach. I asked him, "Why does their spring break look funner than ours?" Maybe it's because it's WARM where they are. It's 33 degrees here right now. Brrr-
It should NEVER snow on spring break! There should not be hailstorms. Or high wind warnings. My yard should not be so engorged with water that when I step on the spongy grass, I sink in and am douched with mud and water above my ankles. Spring break should be about trading in winter boots for cute, strappy sandals. My kids should be running around outside & picking daffodils. After they spent 10 minutes outside, I had to make them all hot cocoa. This is not right.
I know that I have officially entered "mom zone" because what I was most excited about going into spring break was organizing stuff. I made this handy dandy chart in which the plan to spring clean something each day was layed out. It was a thing of beauty. Some of it has gotten done. Some more of it has not. My poor, poor children. Here they are on spring break, the weather stinks and the conditions indoors (with mom nagging them to clean out their closet) aren't much better. They don't sound too disappointed when we talk about school starting back up on Monday.
Last night Dustin was flipping through the channels and he paused on a reality show with hundreds of bikini clad college kids partying on some tropical beach. I asked him, "Why does their spring break look funner than ours?" Maybe it's because it's WARM where they are. It's 33 degrees here right now. Brrr-
Monday, March 30, 2009
Out Of The Mouth Of Babes
My friend forwarded me this little gem:
1stgrade school teacher had twenty-six students in her class. She presented each child in her classroom the 1st half of a well-known proverb and asked them to come up with the remainder of the proverb. It's hard to believe these were actually done by first graders. Their insight may surprise you. While reading, keep in mind that these are first-graders, 6-year-olds, because the last one is a classic!
1.
Don't change horses
until they stop running.
2.
Strike while the
bug is close.
3.
It's always darkest before
Daylight Saving Time.
4.
Never underestimate the power of
termites.
5..
You can lead a horse to water but
How?
6.
Don't bite the hand that
looks dirty.
7.
No news is
impossible
8.
A miss is as good as a
Mr.
9.
You can't teach an old dog new
Math
10.
If you lie down with dogs, you'll
stink in the morning.
11.
Love all, trust
Me.
12.
The pen is mightier than the
pigs.
13.
An idle mind is
the best way to relax.
14..
Where there's smoke there's
pollution.
15.
Happy the bride who
gets all the presents.
16.
A penny saved is
not much.
17.
Two's company, three's
the Musketeers.
18.
Don't put off till tomorrow what
you put on to go to bed.
19.
Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and
You have to blow your nose.
20.
There are none so blind as
Stevie Wonder.
21.
Children should be seen and not
spanked or grounded.
22.
If at first you don't succeed
get new batteries.
23.
You get out of something only what you
See in the picture on the box
24..
When the blind lead the blind
get out of the way.
25.
A bird in the hand
is going to poop on you.
And the WINNER and last one!
26
Better late than
Pregnant
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1stgrade school teacher had twenty-six students in her class. She presented each child in her classroom the 1st half of a well-known proverb and asked them to come up with the remainder of the proverb. It's hard to believe these were actually done by first graders. Their insight may surprise you. While reading, keep in mind that these are first-graders, 6-year-olds, because the last one is a classic!
1.
Don't change horses
until they stop running.
2.
Strike while the
bug is close.
3.
It's always darkest before
Daylight Saving Time.
4.
Never underestimate the power of
termites.
5..
You can lead a horse to water but
How?
6.
Don't bite the hand that
looks dirty.
7.
No news is
impossible
8.
A miss is as good as a
Mr.
9.
You can't teach an old dog new
Math
10.
If you lie down with dogs, you'll
stink in the morning.
11.
Love all, trust
Me.
12.
The pen is mightier than the
pigs.
13.
An idle mind is
the best way to relax.
14..
Where there's smoke there's
pollution.
15.
Happy the bride who
gets all the presents.
16.
A penny saved is
not much.
17.
Two's company, three's
the Musketeers.
18.
Don't put off till tomorrow what
you put on to go to bed.
19.
Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and
You have to blow your nose.
20.
There are none so blind as
Stevie Wonder.
21.
Children should be seen and not
spanked or grounded.
22.
If at first you don't succeed
get new batteries.
23.
You get out of something only what you
See in the picture on the box
24..
When the blind lead the blind
get out of the way.
25.
A bird in the hand
is going to poop on you.
And the WINNER and last one!
26
Better late than
Pregnant
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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