It's official, at least for today. Fall has arrived!
Today we awoke to beautiful clear skies and crisp 60 degree weather. Gorgeous! And, of course, all three of my kids complaining that they'll need pants, sweaters and parkas. I sometimes wonder if we're even related.
I love it! I love it so much, I turned off my a/c and cracked open every window in the house.
Hello, Fall!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Not So Well
Today is not off to a great start.
For one, my girls got up before I did and decided to host a party in my room. I wasn't invited, and neither were they, but that didn't stop them. They are both the only morning people in the whole house and have obscene amounts of energy, even for the very young.
Following that I got a paper cut from our peanut butter jar. I didn't event think that was possible, but it must be, because it happened.
I got another gazillion bug bites walking the kids to school and now I've got errands to run, but because our new couch already has a rip in the cushion, sometime between 9am and 1pm today, I can expect the repair guru.
Plus, I haven't had coffee yet.
And, because it makes me laugh, enjoy my favorite space pilot cowboy, Alan Tudyk, in something crazy from Funny or Die
For one, my girls got up before I did and decided to host a party in my room. I wasn't invited, and neither were they, but that didn't stop them. They are both the only morning people in the whole house and have obscene amounts of energy, even for the very young.
Following that I got a paper cut from our peanut butter jar. I didn't event think that was possible, but it must be, because it happened.
I got another gazillion bug bites walking the kids to school and now I've got errands to run, but because our new couch already has a rip in the cushion, sometime between 9am and 1pm today, I can expect the repair guru.
Plus, I haven't had coffee yet.
And, because it makes me laugh, enjoy my favorite space pilot cowboy, Alan Tudyk, in something crazy from Funny or Die
Monday, September 21, 2009
New Neighbors
So, what's the protocol with new neighbors?
We've got two now, and I'm probably more excited than I need to be. A new family moved in right next door to us last week, and this week the other vacant house beside us is getting a new couple as well. And, because I'm socially inept, I don't know what to do.
Do people still give out gifts to their neighbors?
My parents never did, but they weren't social people. Sure, my mom kept up with what was happening... via police scanner... so, yeah.
I don't want to come off as needy. Just because we live next door to them doesn't automatically make them my new BFFs. But, I don't want to be mean. When we moved in people were nice to us, the older lady across the street even baked us a cake.
Should I make a cake?
Oh man, it's like I've been living in a cave.
My husband suggested a nice bottle of wine, and then I immediately freaked out with, "what if they're teetotallers" and my husband came back at me with, "stop reading Little Women," and, yes we fought.
Maybe a plant? A card? A polite hello?
...
I'm never making friends.
We've got two now, and I'm probably more excited than I need to be. A new family moved in right next door to us last week, and this week the other vacant house beside us is getting a new couple as well. And, because I'm socially inept, I don't know what to do.
Do people still give out gifts to their neighbors?
My parents never did, but they weren't social people. Sure, my mom kept up with what was happening... via police scanner... so, yeah.
I don't want to come off as needy. Just because we live next door to them doesn't automatically make them my new BFFs. But, I don't want to be mean. When we moved in people were nice to us, the older lady across the street even baked us a cake.
Should I make a cake?
Oh man, it's like I've been living in a cave.
My husband suggested a nice bottle of wine, and then I immediately freaked out with, "what if they're teetotallers" and my husband came back at me with, "stop reading Little Women," and, yes we fought.
Maybe a plant? A card? A polite hello?
...
I'm never making friends.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
When I Grow Up
On the way to school this morning, the three kids and I were having a nice little chat about growing up. The downside of being a military family, is that we move a lot, so my son naturally wanted to know how long we'd be staying in Florida.
I told him that this was it; we were living here, probably until the Diva, the youngest, got finished with college.
"Where will we move after that?" he asked.
"Um... your dad and I might not move anywhere. I don't know where you and your sisters will be living."
...
"Once you're done with college, you're getting your own place," I informed him.
...
"Diva is going to live with me," the Artist proclaimed. "I'll take care of her and make her corn dogs."
"I want hot dogs," Diva piped in.
"Hot dogs," the Artist echoed.
"And fries."
"And fries," the Artist agreed.
...
So, it seems my son is planning on never leaving home, and my daughters are going to live together forever, and probably collect cats.
Excellent.
...
I forgot about the link of the week, and it's only week two. That bodes well.
Anyway, here's a little site I love and use to bore my friends with useless information.
Trivial Trivia
Don't laugh, I've won contests.
I told him that this was it; we were living here, probably until the Diva, the youngest, got finished with college.
"Where will we move after that?" he asked.
"Um... your dad and I might not move anywhere. I don't know where you and your sisters will be living."
...
"Once you're done with college, you're getting your own place," I informed him.
...
"Diva is going to live with me," the Artist proclaimed. "I'll take care of her and make her corn dogs."
"I want hot dogs," Diva piped in.
"Hot dogs," the Artist echoed.
"And fries."
"And fries," the Artist agreed.
...
So, it seems my son is planning on never leaving home, and my daughters are going to live together forever, and probably collect cats.
Excellent.
...
I forgot about the link of the week, and it's only week two. That bodes well.
Anyway, here's a little site I love and use to bore my friends with useless information.
Trivial Trivia
Don't laugh, I've won contests.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The Up Side
Even job loss has it's up side.
I'm really enjoying spending more time with my kids. The Diva and I are becoming of one mind, although I'm not sure yet if that is a good thing, or a bad thing. I'm getting a better grasp on what my two older kids are doing in school. And, bonus, we went to the pool today.
The Scientist staid home from school yesterday. I'm a horrible judge of when a child is faking, which, he was. All I know is the one time I pushed the issue and sent him to school, he threw up. Since then, I'm as plyable as play-doh.
I did have him watch the President, if only because I thought the arguements against this kind of, oh, I don't know, making our children resposnible for their own actions, were beyond absurd. It was short, and nothing he hadn't heard from his father and I before. The Artist watched it with her class, but I'm afraid, at six, it mostly went over her head.
I'm working on the second half of my life story, which I'm certain the not knowing is keeping people up at night. That was sarcasm. However, I also want to regularly, say on Wednesdays, put up a link to something I find on the web. I know! It's never been done before! That was also sarcasm.
So, I present: Kingdom of Loathing
It's a point-and-click, stick figure, turn based, well... adventure? I'm not sure how to describe it, but I've been playing for years and can't get enough.
Enjoy!
I'm really enjoying spending more time with my kids. The Diva and I are becoming of one mind, although I'm not sure yet if that is a good thing, or a bad thing. I'm getting a better grasp on what my two older kids are doing in school. And, bonus, we went to the pool today.
The Scientist staid home from school yesterday. I'm a horrible judge of when a child is faking, which, he was. All I know is the one time I pushed the issue and sent him to school, he threw up. Since then, I'm as plyable as play-doh.
I did have him watch the President, if only because I thought the arguements against this kind of, oh, I don't know, making our children resposnible for their own actions, were beyond absurd. It was short, and nothing he hadn't heard from his father and I before. The Artist watched it with her class, but I'm afraid, at six, it mostly went over her head.
I'm working on the second half of my life story, which I'm certain the not knowing is keeping people up at night. That was sarcasm. However, I also want to regularly, say on Wednesdays, put up a link to something I find on the web. I know! It's never been done before! That was also sarcasm.
So, I present: Kingdom of Loathing
It's a point-and-click, stick figure, turn based, well... adventure? I'm not sure how to describe it, but I've been playing for years and can't get enough.
Enjoy!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Green Beads
I have three children, I'm sure I've mentioned them before. My oldest, and only son, is the Scientist. My middle child, and oldest daughter, is the Artist. And that leaves the youngest girl, the Diva.
My ebola has cleared up, some, but Diva is still a little snotty-in-the-nose. While on a family outting yesterday, in a vain attempt to purchase even more furniture for the house that really does seem too big, we had this exchange:
"I need a tissue."
"I don't have any on me. When we get there we'll go to restroom and wipe your nose."
"I have green in my nose."
"I know, honey."
"It's green."
I sigh, the van finally stops, and I hop out to see what the fuss is about. Diva's nose is running, but it's definately not green (thank goodness).
"Tip your head up, let me see."
"No!"
"Let me see your nose."
Finally, she does, and I stare in mute horror.
"What?" my husband asks.
"Not green; bead. She has a bead in her nose!"
...
I guess it doesn't need saying that we did not go shopping, but instead went straight to urgent care.
The bead was not green. We'll be studying our colors this week.
My ebola has cleared up, some, but Diva is still a little snotty-in-the-nose. While on a family outting yesterday, in a vain attempt to purchase even more furniture for the house that really does seem too big, we had this exchange:
"I need a tissue."
"I don't have any on me. When we get there we'll go to restroom and wipe your nose."
"I have green in my nose."
"I know, honey."
"It's green."
I sigh, the van finally stops, and I hop out to see what the fuss is about. Diva's nose is running, but it's definately not green (thank goodness).
"Tip your head up, let me see."
"No!"
"Let me see your nose."
Finally, she does, and I stare in mute horror.
"What?" my husband asks.
"Not green; bead. She has a bead in her nose!"
...
I guess it doesn't need saying that we did not go shopping, but instead went straight to urgent care.
The bead was not green. We'll be studying our colors this week.
Friday, September 4, 2009
One Fine Day
Well, I'm sick. I've got some kind of crappy cough, coupled with a headache and a runny nose. The paranoid side of me immediately jumps from common cold, to swine flu, to bubonic plague. The reasonable side just assumes it's ebola.
Also, I've already ruined a budding friendship with one neighbor, by 1) being too ditzy to figure out who was one the phone, and 2) being too sick to pick up the phone and give a reasonable excuse. I still feel like feet today, but I'm going to give her a call back and try and explain myself proper. I'm sure it will be a disaster. What can I say; it's a gift.
The only bright spot of this morning, and actually of the past few days, has been this video clip my friend April sent me.
Enjoy the awesomeness of Daughtry. Finally, I can understand the words to that damn song!
Also, I've already ruined a budding friendship with one neighbor, by 1) being too ditzy to figure out who was one the phone, and 2) being too sick to pick up the phone and give a reasonable excuse. I still feel like feet today, but I'm going to give her a call back and try and explain myself proper. I'm sure it will be a disaster. What can I say; it's a gift.
The only bright spot of this morning, and actually of the past few days, has been this video clip my friend April sent me.
Enjoy the awesomeness of Daughtry. Finally, I can understand the words to that damn song!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
A Brief History of My Life, Part 1
Since I'm doing this, I might as well do it right.
I grew up in a small town in the San Joaquin Valley in California. You may have heard of it. Growing up, my life was fairly uneventful and I left as soon as I legally could, having joined the Air Force at eighteen.
I didn't really know what I wanted out of life, but community college (all we could afford), wasn't it. The Air Force, as it turned out, wasn't really it either, but the four years I spent in service were good ones and helped shape who I am today. It's also where I met my husband, who will be retiring from the Air Force in another three to four years.
Life has been pretty good, if not unexpectedly so.
Let me explain.
I never thought I'd have kids. Or, if I did think about it, it was in a vague sort of way that kids come with marriage. As a girl I never planned out how many children I'd have, what sex they'd be, and what I'd name them. I never had make-believe weddings, either. No, that just wasn't me.
But it is now.
I have three children, and I sometimes can hardly believe how different the life I'd planned for myself is from the one I'm actually living. In a lot of ways, it's better; way better. And sometimes the pressure of raising three children into functioning, society-contributing, good and healthy adults is frightening. There are no tangible rewards to it. Sure, there's Mother's Day, but as I've learned, that just means I plan everything out (not just for myself, but for my own mother and my mother-in-law) and hope it gets executed in some reasonable fashion, and yes, on occasion, I get the heart-strewn drawing from my middle daughter (the sensitive one); but mostly it's a never ending series of battles, big and small, piles of laundry that never get done, and endless trips to the bathroom. Each day is more challenging then the last, and it's just the kind of job you never master.
And it's great.
So, I may complain about my kids. I may get frustrated and upset and come here ranting and raving; but I love them. I love them so much, and I wouldn't change a single thing about them. They were never apart of my grand plans for a grand life, they are my life.
John Lennon said it best, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
I grew up in a small town in the San Joaquin Valley in California. You may have heard of it. Growing up, my life was fairly uneventful and I left as soon as I legally could, having joined the Air Force at eighteen.
I didn't really know what I wanted out of life, but community college (all we could afford), wasn't it. The Air Force, as it turned out, wasn't really it either, but the four years I spent in service were good ones and helped shape who I am today. It's also where I met my husband, who will be retiring from the Air Force in another three to four years.
Life has been pretty good, if not unexpectedly so.
Let me explain.
I never thought I'd have kids. Or, if I did think about it, it was in a vague sort of way that kids come with marriage. As a girl I never planned out how many children I'd have, what sex they'd be, and what I'd name them. I never had make-believe weddings, either. No, that just wasn't me.
But it is now.
I have three children, and I sometimes can hardly believe how different the life I'd planned for myself is from the one I'm actually living. In a lot of ways, it's better; way better. And sometimes the pressure of raising three children into functioning, society-contributing, good and healthy adults is frightening. There are no tangible rewards to it. Sure, there's Mother's Day, but as I've learned, that just means I plan everything out (not just for myself, but for my own mother and my mother-in-law) and hope it gets executed in some reasonable fashion, and yes, on occasion, I get the heart-strewn drawing from my middle daughter (the sensitive one); but mostly it's a never ending series of battles, big and small, piles of laundry that never get done, and endless trips to the bathroom. Each day is more challenging then the last, and it's just the kind of job you never master.
And it's great.
So, I may complain about my kids. I may get frustrated and upset and come here ranting and raving; but I love them. I love them so much, and I wouldn't change a single thing about them. They were never apart of my grand plans for a grand life, they are my life.
John Lennon said it best, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
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