My Momma is taking me on an adventure today! We're flying to Idaho to see my Grandpa Pat, Gramma Linda, Gramma Shelley, and Poppa Tom. We're also going to see my Great-Grandma Flossie and cousins Abbie, Tyler, and Mahala. Grandpa Pat is turning 60 years old so we're going to help him celebrate, and we need to visit Momma's Uncle Frank who isn't feeling so well. I sure hope we have cake for Grandpa Pat! I love cake...mmmmmmm,gooooooooood.
I am so excited! I promised Momma I'd be a good boy on the big airplane, although I hope she knows there are never any guarantees in life. I saw her sneak some cool new things into the backpack though so as long as she plays with me, I'm sure I'll be a great traveler! I love airplanes, do they have wheels?? You know how much I love anything with wheels....
We will keep you all posted on the trip!
Love,
Brendan
What did I do before this?
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Obama Wins.
*Note the lack of enthusiasm by adding just a period, no exclamation point*
It should be no surprise that I am disappointed, saddened, heated, and even disgusted to the very core. But what might surprise you is that I'm not feeling that way toward the big O himself. I'm feeling that way toward my fellow Americans who actually believe that this man can steer our country. Some of you actually believe that he's capable of doing what he's promised. You're all high if you think you're going to have more money in the end, because that couldn't be further from the truth. And judging by the media coverage and the people they're interviewing, they are lining up right now for the big handout. Ugh....I could go on and on....but I'm too worked up to even think straight.
I can only hope that for my sake and for my family's sake, he doesn't leave me saying "I told you so" in just a couple of years. Although, that would feel really good....
It should be no surprise that I am disappointed, saddened, heated, and even disgusted to the very core. But what might surprise you is that I'm not feeling that way toward the big O himself. I'm feeling that way toward my fellow Americans who actually believe that this man can steer our country. Some of you actually believe that he's capable of doing what he's promised. You're all high if you think you're going to have more money in the end, because that couldn't be further from the truth. And judging by the media coverage and the people they're interviewing, they are lining up right now for the big handout. Ugh....I could go on and on....but I'm too worked up to even think straight.
I can only hope that for my sake and for my family's sake, he doesn't leave me saying "I told you so" in just a couple of years. Although, that would feel really good....
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
I voted!
What a great feeling to live in a country where the people choose! Even if some of us choose opposite me, it's still a poweful feeling. Before I head off into a cleaning spree to keep myself occupied the rest of the day, I'd just like to state that no matter who wins this election, we still live in the best country in the world. Let's stop taking that for granted and live our lives the best way we know how. The President of the United States cannot determine what kind of person you are. YOU determine what kind of person you are, and that should start with being grateful and appreciative for all that we have in this beautiful country.
Go Vote!
Go Vote!
Friday, October 31, 2008
Sums It Up For Me!
Employee Notice Please POST
Important Notice; to All Employees in Complying with the New Liberal
President Campaign Policy
As of November 5, 2008, if Obama is officially elected into office, our
company will instill a few new policies which are in keeping with his new,
inspiring issues of change and fairness:
1.] All salespeople will be pooling their sales and bonuses into a common
pool that will be divided equally between all of you. This will serve to
give those of you who are underachieving a fair shake.
2.] All low level workers will be pooling their wages, including overtime,
into a common pool, dividing it equally amongst yourselves. This will help
those who are too busy for overtime to reap the rewards from those who have
more spare time and can work extra hours.
3.] All top management will now be referred to as the government. We will
not participate in this experience because the law doesn 't app ly to us.
4.] The government will give eloquent speeches to all employees every week,
encouraging its workers to continue to work hard for the good of all.
5.] The employees will be thrilled with these new policies because it's good
to spread the wealth. Those of you who have underachieved will finally get
an opportunity; those of you who have worked hard and had success will feel
more patriotic.
6.] The last few people who were hired should clean out their desks. Don't
feel bad, though, because President Obama will give you free healthcare,
free handouts, free oil for heating your home, free food stamps, and he'll
let you stay in your home for as long as you want even if you can't pay your
mortgage. If you appeal directly to our Democratic Congress, you might even
get a free flat screen TV and a coupon for free haircuts (shouldn't all
Americans be entitled to nice looking hair?) !!!
If for any reason you are not happy with the new employment policies, you
may want to rethink your vote on November 4th.
Thank You,
Important Notice; to All Employees in Complying with the New Liberal
President Campaign Policy
As of November 5, 2008, if Obama is officially elected into office, our
company will instill a few new policies which are in keeping with his new,
inspiring issues of change and fairness:
1.] All salespeople will be pooling their sales and bonuses into a common
pool that will be divided equally between all of you. This will serve to
give those of you who are underachieving a fair shake.
2.] All low level workers will be pooling their wages, including overtime,
into a common pool, dividing it equally amongst yourselves. This will help
those who are too busy for overtime to reap the rewards from those who have
more spare time and can work extra hours.
3.] All top management will now be referred to as the government. We will
not participate in this experience because the law doesn 't app ly to us.
4.] The government will give eloquent speeches to all employees every week,
encouraging its workers to continue to work hard for the good of all.
5.] The employees will be thrilled with these new policies because it's good
to spread the wealth. Those of you who have underachieved will finally get
an opportunity; those of you who have worked hard and had success will feel
more patriotic.
6.] The last few people who were hired should clean out their desks. Don't
feel bad, though, because President Obama will give you free healthcare,
free handouts, free oil for heating your home, free food stamps, and he'll
let you stay in your home for as long as you want even if you can't pay your
mortgage. If you appeal directly to our Democratic Congress, you might even
get a free flat screen TV and a coupon for free haircuts (shouldn't all
Americans be entitled to nice looking hair?) !!!
If for any reason you are not happy with the new employment policies, you
may want to rethink your vote on November 4th.
Thank You,
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Invisible Mom
*I get the following email from time to time, but it never really touched me as much as it did today.*
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen
again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.
It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're going to love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Brendan is going through a "Momma" phase, and he kicked it into high gear today. I took him to weekly playgroup this morning and practically wore him as an extra pant leg the entire time. He was stuck to my side for 2.5 hours. Well actually, that's a lie. I did manage to make a potty run without him, but even then, I could hear his voice echo down the hallway..."Momma? Momma? MOMMA!"
We came home, I put a video on, and ordered him to sit on the couch for approximately 30 minutes so that I could unwind from the playgroup "Momma!" drama. Why is he suddenly like this? It used to be that I could set him on the floor and let him loose while I sat, sipped coffee, and gossiped. Humph! It was all I could do today just to drink my coffee without batting his hand away while snapping "No! HOT! Mommy's juice! MOMMY'S JUICE I SAY!"
So as I said, I was beyond frustrated until I sat down and read this email. It hit me like a slap across the face. One day, not so many years from now, I'll wish he was kneeling at my feet with his arms stretched up, waiting for me to hold him. I'll wish he was the happiest kid alive just to have my undivided attention for 15 minutes. I'll wish we were hanging out in the family room, playing with all of his "caws" until bedtime. I'll wish his heart was breaking as I disappear for a quick potty break.
One day, I'll wish for all of this. I'll wish that I wasn't so invisible.
Bring on some more of this "Momma!" phase.
I get the point.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen
again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.
It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're going to love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Brendan is going through a "Momma" phase, and he kicked it into high gear today. I took him to weekly playgroup this morning and practically wore him as an extra pant leg the entire time. He was stuck to my side for 2.5 hours. Well actually, that's a lie. I did manage to make a potty run without him, but even then, I could hear his voice echo down the hallway..."Momma? Momma? MOMMA!"
We came home, I put a video on, and ordered him to sit on the couch for approximately 30 minutes so that I could unwind from the playgroup "Momma!" drama. Why is he suddenly like this? It used to be that I could set him on the floor and let him loose while I sat, sipped coffee, and gossiped. Humph! It was all I could do today just to drink my coffee without batting his hand away while snapping "No! HOT! Mommy's juice! MOMMY'S JUICE I SAY!"
So as I said, I was beyond frustrated until I sat down and read this email. It hit me like a slap across the face. One day, not so many years from now, I'll wish he was kneeling at my feet with his arms stretched up, waiting for me to hold him. I'll wish he was the happiest kid alive just to have my undivided attention for 15 minutes. I'll wish we were hanging out in the family room, playing with all of his "caws" until bedtime. I'll wish his heart was breaking as I disappear for a quick potty break.
One day, I'll wish for all of this. I'll wish that I wasn't so invisible.
Bring on some more of this "Momma!" phase.
I get the point.
Monday, October 27, 2008
It Never Freakin' Ends.
Fellow blogger Tracey inspired me to rant this morning, she's having a rough day. I'm hoping it will make me feel better. (I hope she's feeling better now too!)
Why do I hate Mondays? Why do they always totally suck, leaving me to absolutely dread the rest of the week? Every Monday just sucks! I don't know why, nothing explains it, but I am always in the absolute worst mood on Mondays.
Our lovely computer here has been the victim of a brutal attack by spyware. Damn that spyware! Damn it all to hell! It's still working, obviously- since I'm blogging at the moment, but what you don't see is me fighting numerous pop-ups and swearing at all the alerts that keep hogging the screen. I KNOW IT'S INFECTED A-HOLES. ONE ALERT IS ALL I NEED THANK YOU VERY MUCH. NOW LET ME GET ON WITH MY F--KING BLOGGING. o-KAY???
Brendan is STILL SICK which normally wouldn't be a big deal, but considering he's now in a My Gym class, I'm pissed since there is a gigantic friendly reminder bannered across the place that reads "NO SICK KIDS IN THE GYM. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION." So if he has this runny nose and cough come Thursday, you can bet I'll be scheduling a make-up class. What a pain in the ass. And why am I the only one that follows those rules anyway?? Why do I seem to be the only considerate one who keeps her damn kid home when he's sick? Why is it always okay for other moms to chase their kids around with tissues at these places, but I'm too scared to break the rules? Does that make me a loser who doesn't take enough risks in life? Should I be more loosey goosey? Should I be more of a rebel and just show up with a sick child, just to see what they say? I fear I'll be reprimanded in front of the whole group and be sent home with my tail between my legs, while the other moms watch and laugh and use their sleeves to wipe their rugrats disgusting nose. Bottom line, if he's still sick come Thursday, we'll be sitting at home, bored out of our minds, because I'm a loser.
I have to see the dentist tomorrow. That's NEVER fun. One of my front teeth that recently had a root canal is bothering me. It doesn't hurt a lot just yet, but I fear it's headed in that direction. The really bad news is that it shouldn't hurt at all, considering a root canal was done, right? Right. I really wish my parents had been more strict with us brushing our teeth while growing up. Or if they were strict, then I was obviously very sneaky because my teeth are horrible. I am always so jealous of people with perfect teeth. If there is ONE THING our kids WILL do EVERY DAY in this house, it is BRUSH THEIR FREAKIN' TEETH. NO EXCUSES. It's just not worth it to hit your 30's and start to wonder if dentures would be all that bad.
I need to find a place to store all of B's sippy cups. Right now, they're in a drawer that he has access to, 24/7. And where does he like to play, 24/7? In that damn drawer. If I walk into the kitchen one more time and see 25 cups and 25 lids all over the damn place, I just might lose it. So tonight after the little devil goes to bed, those cups are relocating to a new home called "the upper cabinets." I'll show him. I'd post a picture of the sty he creates in my kitchen but since the computer has been sleeping around and has a filthy virus, I can't download any photos.
Ugh. All this whining has me wanting to burn some energy. Think I'll go rake some leaves while the monster is resting. Knowing my luck, I'll attract deer ticks and get lyme disease.
*update- B just woke up from a ONE HOUR NAP. The rest of the day should be interesting! Bring on the temper tantrums, the whining, the biting, the screaming, the throwing food, the spilling juice, the flying coasters, the messy kitchen....."
Why do I hate Mondays? Why do they always totally suck, leaving me to absolutely dread the rest of the week? Every Monday just sucks! I don't know why, nothing explains it, but I am always in the absolute worst mood on Mondays.
Our lovely computer here has been the victim of a brutal attack by spyware. Damn that spyware! Damn it all to hell! It's still working, obviously- since I'm blogging at the moment, but what you don't see is me fighting numerous pop-ups and swearing at all the alerts that keep hogging the screen. I KNOW IT'S INFECTED A-HOLES. ONE ALERT IS ALL I NEED THANK YOU VERY MUCH. NOW LET ME GET ON WITH MY F--KING BLOGGING. o-KAY???
Brendan is STILL SICK which normally wouldn't be a big deal, but considering he's now in a My Gym class, I'm pissed since there is a gigantic friendly reminder bannered across the place that reads "NO SICK KIDS IN THE GYM. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION." So if he has this runny nose and cough come Thursday, you can bet I'll be scheduling a make-up class. What a pain in the ass. And why am I the only one that follows those rules anyway?? Why do I seem to be the only considerate one who keeps her damn kid home when he's sick? Why is it always okay for other moms to chase their kids around with tissues at these places, but I'm too scared to break the rules? Does that make me a loser who doesn't take enough risks in life? Should I be more loosey goosey? Should I be more of a rebel and just show up with a sick child, just to see what they say? I fear I'll be reprimanded in front of the whole group and be sent home with my tail between my legs, while the other moms watch and laugh and use their sleeves to wipe their rugrats disgusting nose. Bottom line, if he's still sick come Thursday, we'll be sitting at home, bored out of our minds, because I'm a loser.
I have to see the dentist tomorrow. That's NEVER fun. One of my front teeth that recently had a root canal is bothering me. It doesn't hurt a lot just yet, but I fear it's headed in that direction. The really bad news is that it shouldn't hurt at all, considering a root canal was done, right? Right. I really wish my parents had been more strict with us brushing our teeth while growing up. Or if they were strict, then I was obviously very sneaky because my teeth are horrible. I am always so jealous of people with perfect teeth. If there is ONE THING our kids WILL do EVERY DAY in this house, it is BRUSH THEIR FREAKIN' TEETH. NO EXCUSES. It's just not worth it to hit your 30's and start to wonder if dentures would be all that bad.
I need to find a place to store all of B's sippy cups. Right now, they're in a drawer that he has access to, 24/7. And where does he like to play, 24/7? In that damn drawer. If I walk into the kitchen one more time and see 25 cups and 25 lids all over the damn place, I just might lose it. So tonight after the little devil goes to bed, those cups are relocating to a new home called "the upper cabinets." I'll show him. I'd post a picture of the sty he creates in my kitchen but since the computer has been sleeping around and has a filthy virus, I can't download any photos.
Ugh. All this whining has me wanting to burn some energy. Think I'll go rake some leaves while the monster is resting. Knowing my luck, I'll attract deer ticks and get lyme disease.
*update- B just woke up from a ONE HOUR NAP. The rest of the day should be interesting! Bring on the temper tantrums, the whining, the biting, the screaming, the throwing food, the spilling juice, the flying coasters, the messy kitchen....."
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