Blondecisions
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Why can't it be JUST a phone?
Why must you pay $60 a month for a cell phone PLUS the cost of the phone?
Why can't you just get a PHONE? You know, the ones that you dial a number, talk, hang up and maybe get voice mail from?
Why does a phone need all this ... STUFF?!
games
voice activation
a camera
text messaging
web access
full color display
animation
downloads
scheduler
world clock
alarm clock
voice memo
task list
memo pad
calculator
countdown
gazillion ringtones
3-way calling
call forwarding
key chimes
I just want a PHONE that I can carry with me. No, I don't need a fancy case and belt clip to go with that.
Yes, I do suppose I'll be needing the ear piece to chat in the car.
Can I just get a phone though?
No?
Just a phone, though?
Nope.
Monday, June 28, 2004
Let's get woo-woo!
I've been carrying negative feelings towards the hubster for a couple of weeks now. It's not good. Negativity feeds itself and it snowballs.
Add this to my state of PMS last week and it's even worse.
I forget that even when he's a pain in the ass, I do have a man who can TALK. Sometimes we don't get anywhere, but for the majority, we do. Or we're able to call a truce.
We sat down and chatted about all of these little aspects of our relationship and life that's been bugging us, and the next day was wonderful!
The negativity was gone, I felt like I was on cloud nine!
It's not that I need a man, but rather, I need positive things in the relationships I do have. I have found over the years that I do not do well in negative situations and stressful relationships.
I have walked away from friends and others because of this.
I need partnerships. I need give and take and everyone brings something to the table.
Since our chat, we're doing much better, and doing so with a genuine smile and some cuddles. We've had these times before, and we'll have them again. The difference is, this man can talk. He can listen. And because of his powers in communication, and just plain maturity with age and experience, I've also learned how to settle down, talk and listen.
No more drama! Life with my son is hard enough, I don't extra negative drama too.
It may sound all woo-woo but I truly believe if you surround yourself with positive people and thoughts, you're much healthier and positive yourself.
I've chosen that route after living my entire life in a negative drama. I can literally FEEL the difference this has on my mind, body and soul, and my kids and hubby will prosper too :)
Thursday, June 24, 2004
I still haven't touched it
As I sit here, knowing I need to get this article done, I still haven't touched it. Why?
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Procrastination is Caused by Cookies
I wrote this on the MomWriters group, and thought it to be blogworthy.
I have an article due the first week in July, 6 small interviews for quotes needed and I haven't even attempted to make the contacts yet.
This article will open the doors for more quite nicely.
I am a master procrastinator. I am consciously aware that I am dragging my feet on this thing. I have done that in writing and school work my entire life. What's the correlation between writing assignments and school assignments that make me procrastinate so badly?
I have a gazillion article ideas in my head and on paper and not ONE query has gone out since I netted this assignment in Dec/Jan.
I have a most excellent ratio of query to acceptance. Something like 3 acceptances for every 5 queries so far. My luck will change, but still, why don't I do more?
Cookies. The hubster is going out, just for me, to get me cookies.
Do you think it's the cookies? I eat too many cookies and they sedate my will to do anything on time and without a huge fuss?
Why not? I need something to blame.
Monday, June 21, 2004
Don't be mean to me
I was a wallflower in school and was walked all over by the girls. Bullied. So I bullied some guys to get back at society.
But as an adult I hate being bullied or disrespected or made to feel small by other adults. I have a habit of becoming more and more... intolerant of such acts and tend to out my feelings when I am in just the right mood.
Yesterday was not that time apparently. Dadnabbit.
Service workers - you know who you are - tellers, waiters, janitors, cashiers - I was one of you. And yet I still find your nasty behavior wrong. If you hate your job, leave it. There has to be a gazillion others like it you can score.
PS: If you don't want to be there, don't take it out on my family.
PPS: I am so good to you too! My whole family is.
The hubster and the kids. We go out of our way to ask you how you are today and many many of you smile and say, "Wow, that's the first anyone's asked. Thank you!" We smile, we're polite, we say thank you, we don't hassle you, we don't bitch when your machine isn't working, we don't honk imaginary shopping cart horns at you when your line is painfully slow.
So why oh why is it ok for you to be a rude dumbass to us?
Yesterday it was the clean-up crew at the mall food court.
We have a two-year-old
He had juice with a straw
Remember, he's TWO
He hasn't yet learned which way his elbows bend or that he can control that
He's two and he spilled a drink on your precious floor
You know, the floor that you can MOP and leave no trace of juice. Floors like those I have mopped, and worked directly with others who have mopped them.
Please please people, close out those bitter knuckle heads that make you militant and rude to those of us who are nice. Somehow. Go take some yoga or something.
I guess I shouldn't talk - I can't say as I was chipper when I was a cashier. I wasn't RUDE though.
Like the young, prissy bank teller I had at the drive thru the other day. Whatta wench! But I'll save that for nother time...
The cashier at Hannafords this morning was cute, young, AND he was very nice. AND he smiled genuinely when my son knocked over his register's '10 items or less' sign. AND he didn't try to divert his eyes from the fat woman with the kid singing about peanut butter on his underwear.
Course, I think we had the whole store singing it by the time we left. The guy in the soda aisle, the front desk, several customers...
Am I horrible?
I miss my hubster and want him home all day. Then when he's home at night, I am stressed and want him gone. It's because of that time he had away from sun up to 10pm at night working when I got used to being alone in the evenings to MY thoughts, MY shows, MY desire to do whatever I wanna do.
Now I have to share that alone time with him. The one I love and adore. The one who makes me stressed and cray-zee.
I want him to work evenings, that's what. I think he should stay home during the day and then leave at 2pm. I would be so much happier.
Cause when he's home in the evening, he wants me to make dinner , but he doesn't understand how I LOATHE the kitchen after being in it half the day for the kids.
He doesn't understand how I want a BREAK. I literally want to walk away when he walks in, and sometimes I do go into my own world.
I keep telling him we need to hire help. I am so frazzled.
The boys are successfully shorn
Like little sheep, or fluffy dogs, we have shorn the boys. With our Wahl dog grooming kit. The one we used to mutilate the dog. That one. The one that made the dog look like it was tossed into a tornado funnel with a razor.
What could make us so stupid? Well, I'll tell you.
I did it all for the money. That's right, I am cheap (poor). I have just moved, have lots of bills, three boys and a caffeine habit.
It's $10 a head for a little bit of hair, plus tips, making a trip to the barber shop about $36-$40. Two boys are shaved clean and one I am letting grow out a little, so he would have more sculpting, but less hair to remove.
I don't pay someone $10 plus tips to shave my legs and pits, do I? And after the last couple of hack jobs on their precious heads, I thought I COULD do better with a disposable razor or my handy dandy Venus.
So I thought, "Well shoot! I can't shave the dog, I should try to shave the kids!"
I mean, how will I ever learn to shave the dog if I don't practice?
We also knew we could go to the mall and get them fixed up before closing time. So onward and shave upward....
Eldest steps into the bathtub, towel draped around him. Buzzzzz goes the hubster, down goes the hair. Hey! This is pretty good! Get the closer attachment. Buzzzz oh hey! That's goood. Get the sideburns and the back and you've done it. A little short on top, but Taters would be bald if we'd let him, so he's pleased.
And all this time I was thinking, I pay $10 plus tips to let some guy do this to my son while he stands around, his pants belted around his thighs, talking about his mama and her bitchin', while he's nicking my son's neck and dousing him with baby powder.
We left out the powder and told him to deal with it.
On to the next child, and here's where the problems ensued. Still though, all in all, if you don't see the bald spots where I took too much off, I'd say it wasn't so bad.
I've never cut hair like that and I used it all with the magic of different Wahl accessories for different length hair on dogs. Heh.
I used the longest all over, then started sculpting with shorter and finally finishing with his neck and sideburns. It's definitely not a work of art, but as long as no one looks too closely, I won't be arrested.
The third child is sad. Oh his hair looks fine, but whenever we get it cut, I lose a piece of myself. He has beautiful blonde curls and they all go away with each snip.
Sunday, June 20, 2004
To hell with my stuff, who needs it?
I just can't seem to get caught up with this HOUSE! I have only half unpacked and am just trying to keep up with the housework and business. Can you believe someone can only HALF unpack and not even notice for over a month? How do you live without your STUFF?
I am SO tempted to just toss everything that's not a seasonal item. Obviously I don't need it all.
I've been thru this before with all of our moves. I don't think in all of my houses/apartments that I have ever been box free. It's about time, eh?
I think I am going to turn over a new leaf. I am going to get rid of all this stuff before the next move. No, really, I swear! I figure I have anywhere from 6 months to 3 years to do it. Better lean on the side of caution and get it done in the next six.
I started the process back in the last place. I went through my office and used trash bag after trash bag, and donated a ton of books. I still have a ton to go and a bunch of magazines to give out to MW's. It's hard to part with magazines and books :(
I am going to start listing them on my template here I think. Brilliant idear :)
I cleaned all of that and still ended up with more than I will ever use. The process is ongoing I guess. I have binder after binder, folder after folder of things from the past that I want to do something with or reference someday.
I did away with anything like magazine articles, magazines and printed materials I can easily research elsewhere and just kept a ton of things from seminars and classes I took in my last couple of jobs in human services.
Still... there's always SO much to write. I should just get rid of everything and start over. Really I should.
In fact, I am going to do it, RIGHT NOW. I need the file cabinet space.
***** Update 4 minutes later *****
I couldn't do it. I opened the file cabinet and yanked things out and just couldn't toss them. So here's the new game plan - I do something with them in 1 year, or they're all gone.
I'm a loser :(
He's going to be FWEE!
He's almost 3. I hate it. I don't want to let go of saying he's 2. I just think it's the perfect age for him.
He's so sassy and adorable. Full of it! He has a speech impediment - one I am sure will go away since I had the same one till I was 7 - Egads! My mother let it go that long!
Anywhooo... not only does he talk cute, but he has this...way.. of dealing with us. He's a brat :) And he can tell you off. You have no idea what he's just said, but you know it's not good.
He went thru a phase a few months ago where everything ended in "uh". I thought I was going to lose my mind! His favorite word in this world is daddy. He says daddy at least 40 times an hour, I kid you not! There's one daddy per minute, and double up on minutes he didn't speak the word at other times. Just sitting here typing this has proven my 40 an hour theory. If daddy is gone to work all day, he has to quadruple up on his daddy's when he gets home. So combine the uber daddy's and the uh's and I was going to buy special reinforced ear-muffs or lose my mind, whichever came first. Then there is the daddy trying to survive all of this, not realizing he is also driving me NUTS :
Daddy-uh, yes Jack? can you get me a dwank-uh? Sure Jack Daddy-uh. Yah? Daddy-uh. Yah?? Daddy-uh, where arwe you-uh? In here, Jack Daddy-uh. Yess? Daddy-uh Yesss? Daddy-uh I want a dwank-uh In a second, Jack, I'm coming Daddy-uh. Daddy-uh. Here's your drink, Jack NO DADDY-UH! I don't want a dwank-uh! *sigh* ok Jack Daddy-uh. Yes Jack Daddy-uh. What Jack?? Daddy-uh poopies in the POTTEEE-uh. That's goood Jack. NO daddy-uh, NOT GOOD. ok Daddy-uh. Mmm? Daddy-uh. MMmm??? What you doing-uh? nothing Jack Daddydaddydaddy-uh. Jackerjackerjacker-uh?? Daddy-uh. Jacker-uh Daddy-uh. Jacker-uh What Daddy-uh? Nothing Jacker-uh Daddy-uh. I want to watch-uh DINUH-taurs Wight NOW-uh Daddy-uh. Right NOW-uh! ok Jack Daddy-uh? Daddy-uh? DADDDDDY-UHHHH! Jacker-uh Daddy-uh Jacker-uh What Daddy-uh? Jacker-uh WHAT Daddy-uh. Daddy-uh Jacker-uh Daddy-uh Jacker-uh Daddy-uh Jacker-uh Daddy-uh Jacker-uh WHAT DADDY-UH???!! Nothin' Jack
His speech is getting better and thank the sweetness of Mother Earth he stopped with the Uh's. He still uses daddy twenty times more than normal children though.
He's got great little made up word for things too. Like the GamePuter. heh
Lordy he's a talker! We'll be out somewhere and someone will ask him a question and here's his response. (Get out your decoder ring)
Wellllll, my brudder wote me up dis MOAN-ing
and den he wen down da STAYwrs
an-dye wen down da STAYwrs
an-dye was down da staywrs
an-dye came down da staywrs
an-dye came down da staywrs
an-dye got some toes
an-dye pooT budd-airw on my toes
an my brudder Oddy had budd-airw on HIS toes too
an den my mama had budd-airw on whoo toes
an my brudder Tay-tay had budd-airw on hid toes
and my daddy no toes
an you have toes for bretfast too?
yahhh toes is goooood
Did you get all the way through? I can decode it for you if you like :)
I Bwoke my SHOLL-duh
Anna reminded me that I hadn't told anyone how my baby broke his shoulder. I had revealed this break a couple of posts down in the "I Bwoke My Peenie" post. My son is adrable!
So anywhoo, he was out on the playground with his brothers and daddy. He just learned how to hold onto the sides of a swing so he can swing the big kid swings (makes me hella nervous! I see head trauma stamped on his forhead when he swings) and he decided to jump off the swing and ran straight into his brother's path.
Alex isn't... quick... about things. He didn't try to stop or move his legs, just kicked him - very hard - and Jack flew.
Jack hit the ground with his left shoulder. How he didn't hit his head is a miracle because he hit his shoulder with such force, his clavicle broke. We didn't know it yet.
The hubster held Whacker while he cried for a few minutes, then brought him into me. He said it was unusual for Jack to cry so long. He was right - the kid's a maniacal bull dog! While I was holding him he was saying, "Ouch! Mommy you HOOTing my SHOLL-duh."
That's how he talks *giggle*. Everything with two syllables has emphasis on the first syllable, especially when he has attitude.
Anywhoo again, he was just laying uncomfortably in my arms and I thought at that point I should be like more of an EMT (I was one, you know, as if that makes any difference) and figure out what was going on. I'd already asked about head trauma and there was none, so I sat him at the table and looked him over.
Sure enough, his shoulder was a little off and when he tried to raise his hand to meet mine he cried out in pain. I thought he'd dislocated his shoulder or broken something and with his pain, I was crying my eyes out and running around grabbing things so we could go to the ER.
While there, they said he hadn't broken the bone, but the x-ray showed it was "bowed out". Well how ridiculous is that? You can BOW something unless there is some damage or something holding it in place. It would snap back into position otherwise.
I was thinking, please tell me these ER people are not morons. I looked at the x-rays they sent us home with the next morning on our way to the orthopedic doctor and guess what I could see. A broken clavicle and the "bowing" coming from the break.
*sigh*
It wasn't like a twig snapping. It's just a hairline or something like that. He won't keep his sling on. It's been two weeks and he still can't raise his arm. We go back to the docs soon and he was a pompous jackass. Can't wait.
Friday, June 11, 2004
He's got nads the size of oranges
"I don't want to complain, but we need a hamper downstairs. Having dirty clothes on the floor down there is just.. no way. I don't want that."
How DARE he even say anthing to ME about housework! I am seeing red... I haven't wanted to chew someone's head off like that in a very long time.
Say another word and I'll chew the head off a squirrel.
I think I handled it well too.. a cold stare and an, "Oh really? That's niiiiice (with a drawn out snake-like essss hiss on that word).
Since he's started working so far away in the last few months, he's forgotten what it's like doing the domestic thing.
There is a small pile in front of the basement door because I didn't have time to do laundry today and had intended to. I often throw a little boy's discarded shirt there or the MAN'S SOCKS from the living room when I am cleaning EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE.
Don't like it? Take the frickin clothes downstairs YOURSELF!
I only run up and down those basement steps four times every day, then upstairs and down putting clothes away.
I do all the dishes all the time.
I vacuum every day almost.
I shampoo stains on the rug every week.
I pick up the papers, toys, clothes, and other items everyone else discards.
I make the breakfast, lunch and dinners 98% of the time.
I clean up the bathrooms every day.
I mow the lawn and water the flowers.
I sweep and mop constantly.
I clean up your cooking and other messes.
I clean up the clothes from the floor that were on the bed when you were too lazy to put them away.
I go to all of the appointments, and do all of the errands.
I deal with Taylor's rages and the other two when they're naughty, loud and destructive all day.
I have work to do and a business to run.
I deal with the dog in the garden and tracking dirt all over the house and barking at the neighbors.
I have to ask you twice to empty YOUR cat's litter box because apparently you have no sense of smell - and furthermore, I have to deal with the blasted cat trampling my head when I sleep, laying on my pillow (and my son's) and giving us allergies, and yowling constantly.
I have to take your hair out of everything! The brush, the rug, the tub, the counters and floors.
Shall I keep going? No, I think I will actually go fill you in on all of these little details you've forgotten along the way.
I Bwoke My Peenie
My almost three-year-old just broke his shoulder on Sunday, so everything to him that's wrong is now "bwoke". He's got a cute little lisp and puts w's in everywhere.
Like, he bangs his head and says "I bwoke my bwain, mom!"
Anywhoo, he just stripped (again) and after apparently checking out his anatomy, he ran up to me and showed me the tip of his penis with the greatest concern on his face and says in a whine, "Mom, it's bwoke. I bwoke my peenie"
"No, sweetie, that's where you pee from. It's not broken."
"No MOM! I bwoke my peenith when I pee!"
Thursday, June 10, 2004
I hate honkers
I realized this morning that I am having a stress reaction to honking horns.
I now live in an area that's thick with traffic, on those very busy and very dangerous roads that are crawling with ambulances and police because people drive like maniacs.
There are a couple of commercials on the radio with honking horns and I hardly pay attention to commercials, so when I hear a horn, I think it's real. It causes me to panic - a true stress reaction. My heart races, my eyes dart around, searching for danger or other drivers.
Why must people act like morons in traffic?
I rarely ever honk at anyone - until I moved here that is. Now, I wanna beep at the slightest provocation. I suppose that's better than what I did the other day....
My husband was driving out of my son's gymnastics class. Like playing Frogger, we had to go over two lanes of heavy, fast traffic (no traffic light) to get to the other side and then wait to step on the gas and get into the flow of the same kind of traffic on the other side.
Unfortunately we were then stuck in the middle in one of those situations where there was an SUV on the other side trying to do the same thing. We couldn't see past them to see if the road was clear, they couldn't see past us.
So I told my husband to inch up and let me look. Mind you, I said INCH. He steps on the gas and we lurch a foot ahead, just in time to see a small car coming at us. She still had plenty of room around us and didn't even have to swerve. Though I assume we scared her a bit, she's honking like crazy and shaking her fist or something.
Well what do I do? I have a stress reaction. And just like all of the other honkers get, I flipped her the bird.
We all went down the road on our merry way, and pulled into the left lane at a stop light where we get to wait twenty minutes for a green arrow.
I was talking shrubs and perennials when the receiver of my bird from up the road pulled up next to us after her light turned green, stopping traffic, so she could put her full arm out the window and flip ME off while yelling obscenities.
I blinked. No, I think I laughed really loud.
"She has serious road rage"
"You had nothing to do with that?" (Men. They're clueless, huh?)
"No. SHE caused MY poor reaction because of her blessed honking in the first place.... And furthermore, she'll probably go down the road and kill someone cause she's in a mood."
What's the moral of this story? Don't be a honker. The end.
