If you spend days on mother fucking DAYS on end writing grants you don't have time to, or even feel like, writing posts.
AND if the internets at you HOME decide to never fucking work, well then you can’t post pictures of the white trash 4th of July.
Then your blog produces some near approximation of a death rattle.
And dies. The end.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Grace in Small Things, part 18
- Napping on the boat in the sun
- Aloe to soothe the sunburn acquired while napping on the place you missed with sunscreen
- 4th of July + Fireworks =10 fingers + 10 toes on one and all
- Precious Youngest bringing in, unbidden, the trash can and recycle bin
- Precious Oldest folding, unbidden, MY load of laundry
Thursday, July 2, 2009
SHIT
Every one else seems to be writing full posts and such. Not me. So bullets:
- We celebrated our TWENTY FOURTH wedding anniversary
- We paid off the house we bought in 1996. On a twenty year note. Seven years ahead of schedule.
- We are preparing for the annual white trash fourth of July
- Which my parents will attend for the first time ever
- I love my daughters
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Cash Flow
So last night we shared this with the Precious Daughters.
The Saint got it as a gift for his 40th birthday in 1997.
What would make us break out a very nice bottle of wine on a Monday night in June? It was the mail. We received the title to our house - free and clear - in the mail. Pretty good resaon, no?
The Saint got it as a gift for his 40th birthday in 1997.
What would make us break out a very nice bottle of wine on a Monday night in June? It was the mail. We received the title to our house - free and clear - in the mail. Pretty good resaon, no?
Friday, June 26, 2009
AWOL
People, people, people. I’m in a bit of a hole. My anxiety level has been creeping slowly upwards for weeks. I’m not sure how long ago the creeping began, but it’s been long enough that I’m starting to feel a wee bit fretful.
When I wake up in the morning I have a lump in my throat. A lump that makes it seem I’m trying to swallow something small and hard over.and.over.and.over. By noon my heart feels heavy. Like a slightly larger version of the stone lodged in my throat. By the time I leave the office someasshole buffoon seems intent on trying to squeeze blood out of the aforementioned stone.
When I get home, if I don’t have some really pressing to do’s to keep me occupied, I head straight for a glass of wine. More nights than not, I seem to have polished of an entire bottle before bed.
(Vis a vis of nothing there was an article in the paper this morning about a book featuring six steps to living like a cave man to rid oneself of depression. Nothing new or earth shattering about the list, and shit I already do every damn day, so please don’t send any “healthy living” tips my way kay?)
While I’m not full on panic attacky, I’m not having much fun. And feeling this way is ever so slowly starting to suck the joy out of my life. And people? It is summer damn it! I got through winter pretty much unscathed so this is odd for me.
All this is to say that while I have many thoughts swirling though my head and many stories I’d like to capture here I think my ability to do so has hidden away in my joy’s suitcase and skipped town.
When I wake up in the morning I have a lump in my throat. A lump that makes it seem I’m trying to swallow something small and hard over.and.over.and.over. By noon my heart feels heavy. Like a slightly larger version of the stone lodged in my throat. By the time I leave the office some
When I get home, if I don’t have some really pressing to do’s to keep me occupied, I head straight for a glass of wine. More nights than not, I seem to have polished of an entire bottle before bed.
(Vis a vis of nothing there was an article in the paper this morning about a book featuring six steps to living like a cave man to rid oneself of depression. Nothing new or earth shattering about the list, and shit I already do every damn day, so please don’t send any “healthy living” tips my way kay?)
While I’m not full on panic attacky, I’m not having much fun. And feeling this way is ever so slowly starting to suck the joy out of my life. And people? It is summer damn it! I got through winter pretty much unscathed so this is odd for me.
All this is to say that while I have many thoughts swirling though my head and many stories I’d like to capture here I think my ability to do so has hidden away in my joy’s suitcase and skipped town.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Mommy Meme
We're on our college visit with Precious Youngest. Fortunately, Green Girl in Wisconsin posted this . Which made me remember the Hotfessional tagged me for the Mommy Meme too.
Admit that ONE thing you feel awful about involving being a mom. Get it off your shoulders. Once you’ve written it down, you are NO LONGER allowed to feel bad. It’s over with, it’s in the past. Remember, you’re a good mom!
Many years ago when Precious Oldest was in Kindergarten she was a Daisy Scout. Now when I was a girl, Girl Scouts started in first grade with Brownies. What ever time marches on, things change, so on and so forth.
ANYWAY. It was Girl Scout Sunday and Precious Oldest was part of the color guard that was processing up the aisle before Mass. I was her troop leader AND in charge of running to Girl Scout headquarters to pick up the official Girl Scout flag for the ceremony as our school troops had not yet purchased one. Precious Oldest had to be spiffed up, in uniform, and to church early.
As we do any Sunday morning, or did back then with a 3 and 5 year old, we were rushing around like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off and I barked at the Saint to get the flag to church STAT and the children too while he was at it. (Sweet baby jesus why do I have to do EVERYTHING!)
I finished getting dressed, hopped in the car, raced to church and slid into the pew beside the Saint. I knelt to say a quick prayer and with head bowed over folded hands made a sidelong glance and hissed to the Saint "WHERE is Precious Youngest". He blinked a few times and said through clenched teeth, "I thought YOU were bringing her".
I left my baby at home! Alone! Probably with the house going up in flames! I flew back home at warp speed running red lights and stop signs alike.
I went running through the house shouting her name like a crazed person. She was fine. She was playing in her room. She didn't even know she'd been left home alone.
I have a MILLION of these stories. Seriously. If you EVER feel bad about your parenting skills e-mail me. We'll talk. I'll buy the wine.
To remind yourself that you ARE a good mom, list SEVEN things you love about your kids, you love doing with your kids, or that your kids love about you. These are the things to remind yourself of EVERY DAY that you rock!
1. My girls are smart. I don't mean creepy smart, I mean top of their class, Dean's List, admitted to the J School as a freshman, academic scholarship smart. And they don't care WHO knows it.
2. They make me laugh. They have a finely honed wit and a sarcastic streak a mile wide. I have no idea where they get it.
3. They are kind and caring young women. They have friendships that stretch back years with wonderful young people who are like family to us. Their ex-boyfriends NEVER LEAVE. They don't have the heart to have "bad break ups" and so they remain friends.
4. Their were some rocky times in the 13 to 17 year old years, but they never went off the deep end. Between them they had two detentions in high school. Both for uniform violations. There is no smoking or drug use. Except for an occasional glass of wine at home they don't drink. (Well, if they're in a country where it's LEGAL for them to drink they may imbibe.) For those of you smugly sitting there thinking "That she KNOWS of", trust me. I know.
5. They enjoy each others company. They do things together. On purpose. Think back to when you were a teen and the relationship you had with your siblings. I'm just sayin'.
6. They hold hands with me and kiss me in PUBLIC. Like even when their friends are around.
7. They go their own way. As similar as my girls are in many ways, they have vastly different interests. They know they can love and support one another without being in the other's back pocket,
Send this to FIVE other Moms of the Year that deserve forgiveness and a reminder that they, too, are the best moms they can be! Remember to send them a note to let them know you’ve selected them, and add a link to the person who nominated you!
Jen - Whose young daughters remind me very much of my girls at that age.
Jenn - Who is my parenting doppelganger.
Leann - Our neighbor to the north who makes me smile.
Shelley - Who just moved to Denver and had to leave her precious oldest daughter behind so she could stay for her senior year of high school.
Vanessa - Whose children are canine but adorable.
Admit that ONE thing you feel awful about involving being a mom. Get it off your shoulders. Once you’ve written it down, you are NO LONGER allowed to feel bad. It’s over with, it’s in the past. Remember, you’re a good mom!
Many years ago when Precious Oldest was in Kindergarten she was a Daisy Scout. Now when I was a girl, Girl Scouts started in first grade with Brownies. What ever time marches on, things change, so on and so forth.
ANYWAY. It was Girl Scout Sunday and Precious Oldest was part of the color guard that was processing up the aisle before Mass. I was her troop leader AND in charge of running to Girl Scout headquarters to pick up the official Girl Scout flag for the ceremony as our school troops had not yet purchased one. Precious Oldest had to be spiffed up, in uniform, and to church early.
As we do any Sunday morning, or did back then with a 3 and 5 year old, we were rushing around like the proverbial chicken with its head cut off and I barked at the Saint to get the flag to church STAT and the children too while he was at it. (Sweet baby jesus why do I have to do EVERYTHING!)
I finished getting dressed, hopped in the car, raced to church and slid into the pew beside the Saint. I knelt to say a quick prayer and with head bowed over folded hands made a sidelong glance and hissed to the Saint "WHERE is Precious Youngest". He blinked a few times and said through clenched teeth, "I thought YOU were bringing her".
I left my baby at home! Alone! Probably with the house going up in flames! I flew back home at warp speed running red lights and stop signs alike.
I went running through the house shouting her name like a crazed person. She was fine. She was playing in her room. She didn't even know she'd been left home alone.
I have a MILLION of these stories. Seriously. If you EVER feel bad about your parenting skills e-mail me. We'll talk. I'll buy the wine.
To remind yourself that you ARE a good mom, list SEVEN things you love about your kids, you love doing with your kids, or that your kids love about you. These are the things to remind yourself of EVERY DAY that you rock!
1. My girls are smart. I don't mean creepy smart, I mean top of their class, Dean's List, admitted to the J School as a freshman, academic scholarship smart. And they don't care WHO knows it.
2. They make me laugh. They have a finely honed wit and a sarcastic streak a mile wide. I have no idea where they get it.
3. They are kind and caring young women. They have friendships that stretch back years with wonderful young people who are like family to us. Their ex-boyfriends NEVER LEAVE. They don't have the heart to have "bad break ups" and so they remain friends.
4. Their were some rocky times in the 13 to 17 year old years, but they never went off the deep end. Between them they had two detentions in high school. Both for uniform violations. There is no smoking or drug use. Except for an occasional glass of wine at home they don't drink. (Well, if they're in a country where it's LEGAL for them to drink they may imbibe.) For those of you smugly sitting there thinking "That she KNOWS of", trust me. I know.
5. They enjoy each others company. They do things together. On purpose. Think back to when you were a teen and the relationship you had with your siblings. I'm just sayin'.
6. They hold hands with me and kiss me in PUBLIC. Like even when their friends are around.
7. They go their own way. As similar as my girls are in many ways, they have vastly different interests. They know they can love and support one another without being in the other's back pocket,
Send this to FIVE other Moms of the Year that deserve forgiveness and a reminder that they, too, are the best moms they can be! Remember to send them a note to let them know you’ve selected them, and add a link to the person who nominated you!
Jen - Whose young daughters remind me very much of my girls at that age.
Jenn - Who is my parenting doppelganger.
Leann - Our neighbor to the north who makes me smile.
Shelley - Who just moved to Denver and had to leave her precious oldest daughter behind so she could stay for her senior year of high school.
Vanessa - Whose children are canine but adorable.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Phew!
Phew! They are back! Plane landed at 11:00 PM last night. They looked wonderful and had the best experience. (With the exception of their Garmin GPS being boosted in Paris. From a backpack in a locked room. Likely staff. Asshole.)
Now that they are safely back we are SO glad we said YES. I will not lie, we were very anxious but they handled themselves, and any problems that cropped up along the way, beautifully.
I imagine Precious Oldest will sleep quite a bit of the day, but I hope to share stories and pictures soon. And as an added note, thanks for all your good wishes and support. Parenting is a team sport and having my bleeps on my side means the world!
Now that they are safely back we are SO glad we said YES. I will not lie, we were very anxious but they handled themselves, and any problems that cropped up along the way, beautifully.
I imagine Precious Oldest will sleep quite a bit of the day, but I hope to share stories and pictures soon. And as an added note, thanks for all your good wishes and support. Parenting is a team sport and having my bleeps on my side means the world!
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