Many of you probably have gleaned that I majored in history/political science in college. Well, maybe not. Regardless, I did. But I rarely talk politics on my blog... well, I rarely talk politics beyond my kitchen table for that matter. Why? Well, largely for the same reason that I eschew the topic of religion: chiefly, that I don't really feel like there's a whole lot to be gained from standing on a soap box and orating about anything. People have strong opinions about both religion and politics and I'm certainly not going to change any minds - I'll just rile those people up whose minds are too closed for them to entertain the possibility of disagreement and if people agree with me, then I've wasted my time anyway.
So, my blog is, for the most part, devoid of serious discussion about politics and religion.
Except for today. I'm talking a little politics. Well, maybe mostly history, but a little politics (and no religion!) will make their way into it. It's not a Democrat/Republican kinda thing or a this-guy/that-guy kinda thing... it's just a let's stop and think kinda thing.
I came, recently, across a quote in a newspaper article that I found particularly poignant. It came with a story about President Grover Cleveland (1885-89 & 1893-97) and how he vetoed a bill requiring that tax-payer money be spent to hand out seed to farmers in Texas during a terrible drought. This is what he said in defense of his (seemingly heartless) decision:
"I can find no warrant for such an appropriation in the Constitution, and I do not believe that the power and duty of the general government ought to be extended to the relief of individual suffering which is in no manner properly related to the public service or benefit. A prevalent tendency to disregard the limited mission of this power and duty should, I think, be steadfastly resisted...
The friendliness and charity of our countrymen can always be relied upon to relieve their fellow-citizens in misfortune. This has been repeatedly and quite lately demonstrated. Federal aid in such cases encourages the expectation of paternal care on the part of the government and weakens the sturdiness of our national character, while it prevents the indulgence among our people of that kindly sentiment and conduct which strengthens the bonds of a common brotherhood."
Wow.
See, Cleveland wasn't biased against Texans or farmers. He didn't want to see them struggle and suffer. But he knew that it was not the federal government's responsibility to bail them - or any other ailing group of individuals in America - out of trouble according to the Constitution. It is our responsibility to help one another.
It is not any one person or party at fault for where we are as Americans. It is Americans' fault that we are where we are. We are at fault for expecting government to do for us what we should be doing for one another. It has become an expectation that Washington solve all problems for us, while we resolutely blame that same entity for solutions that do not work. And yet, all the while, while we try to figure out whom should be held responsible, we are derelict in our simple duty of extending helping hands to our struggling neighbors.
I wish that elected officials would scale back their role in our lives, restricting their influence to that which is granted by the Constitution, and I wish that we all would become more proactive in solving our problems as a community in this great nation.
We're good. It's out of my system. I'll be back to talking about poop in my next post - promise!
I was once Melissa, then I became Wife. Soon Wife became Jack's Mommy. Before I knew it, there were 4. I am our Zookeeper; at once Melissa, Wife AND Mom of 4. And these are my thoughts...
Friday, September 24, 2010
Friday's Here!
I tried to stay away. I told myself I'd come up with something original and inspiring for you, but the questions were just irresistible... you'll see! Enjoy!
1. If you could speak with a different accent, what would it be?
I'm not sure I care... I just wish I had SOMETHING. I'm from Colorado and that means I'm essentially a blank slate. I pick up accents everywhere I live and end up sounding like... well, mud. I've got a New York/Charleston/Virginia/Tennessee thing going on and it's not pretty. I'd like just SOMETHING. I'd settle for Tennessee, because, ya know, I live here and it'd make me fit in a little better. I force some "yall"s out when I'm talking to people but it sounds pretty fake when it's on the heels of me talking about some "schmuck", ya know?
2. Can you fall asleep anywhere?
This wasn't a skill I possessed all my life. Sleep deprivation in college helped a LOT - I found I could fall asleep sitting in a chair next to the professor in a 4-person seminar. THAT is skill. Following that, being pregnant with Jack and working at a high-pressure law-firm, I found that the only way to get through a day was to spend my lunch break sleeping in the trunk of my Prius in the parking garage. I don't get enough sleep - ever - so I have adapted to get it when and where I can. It's useful.
3. Do you use public restrooms?
Psh, of course. I aint skrrrrrd. I even sit. I mean, I'll wipe off some pee if it's splattered on the seat, but I figure if my butt cheeks get germy, that's too bad. They go right back in my pants and I put the pants in my washer. Or they put new germs on my toilet seat, but I clean those constantly. I even pee in porta-potties. I hate being full of pee and any grodiness is totally worth it to me to get rid of it. Seriously. I'm also not afraid or ashamed of squatting behind some bushes. I was born, apparently, with some very easy-going buttcheeks.
4. Stuck in an elevator with a celebrity for 24 hours?
I'm wickedly claustrophobic so I'm going to go with that guy that can escape from anything... You know. Him. I'd do just about anything to him to ensure that he'd let me out once he escaped. I'm guessing, though, that's against the spirit of the question, so I'll go with Tina Fey because she is my freaking idol. So funny. So cute. So awesome. But to make me feel better, can we make it a very large elevator?
5. Where did you and your significant other go on your first date?
Aw, ready for some cuteness? I have a story for ya. Once upon a time, there was a Melis and there was a Justin. They were freshman at the same school, in the same Engineering class. Justin was in Navy ROTC and Melis was in Air Force ROTC. She had noticed how handsome Justin was, and, even though she had multiple boyfriends at the time, she couldn't help the fact that Justin took her breath away. Truly. She had been hoping for weeks just to talk to him. They had a ball coming up - the annual Tri-Military ROTC Ball - and Melis had turned down three date offers for the night (knowing that it was mandatory to have a date) hoping and praying that Justin, the guy she'd not spoken to in her life, would ask her. In desperation, Melis called Justin one day, stammering on the phone like an idiot because in her (uncharacteristically un-suave) panic she forgot his name momentarily. She asked him something lame about homework. He replied something smart-assed. It was mortifying but it ended with Justin asking Melis to the ball and Melis doing a crazed happy dance.
On the evening of the Ball, Melis dressed to the nines with a stomach full of butterflies on speed. Justin was in his uniform and beyond handsome. The evening was perfect... And the best part? No kissing. No hand-holding. Just good, old-fashioned chivalry. Total romance. Melis and Justin were growing something incredible and weren't sure what or how but they did not want to rush into anything and instead spent months enjoying those drugged butterflies flitting around in their bellies, delighting in each new step and each new sensation and gave their roots plenty of time to grow deep and entwined.
One of these days, if you ask me nicely, I'll continue the story. It's ADORABLE.
Sigh. Loved that question! Thanks, Mama M.! Head over her way to participate your own self! (See? Working on the "Southern" thing here.)
1. If you could speak with a different accent, what would it be?
I'm not sure I care... I just wish I had SOMETHING. I'm from Colorado and that means I'm essentially a blank slate. I pick up accents everywhere I live and end up sounding like... well, mud. I've got a New York/Charleston/Virginia/Tennessee thing going on and it's not pretty. I'd like just SOMETHING. I'd settle for Tennessee, because, ya know, I live here and it'd make me fit in a little better. I force some "yall"s out when I'm talking to people but it sounds pretty fake when it's on the heels of me talking about some "schmuck", ya know?
2. Can you fall asleep anywhere?
This wasn't a skill I possessed all my life. Sleep deprivation in college helped a LOT - I found I could fall asleep sitting in a chair next to the professor in a 4-person seminar. THAT is skill. Following that, being pregnant with Jack and working at a high-pressure law-firm, I found that the only way to get through a day was to spend my lunch break sleeping in the trunk of my Prius in the parking garage. I don't get enough sleep - ever - so I have adapted to get it when and where I can. It's useful.
3. Do you use public restrooms?
Psh, of course. I aint skrrrrrd. I even sit. I mean, I'll wipe off some pee if it's splattered on the seat, but I figure if my butt cheeks get germy, that's too bad. They go right back in my pants and I put the pants in my washer. Or they put new germs on my toilet seat, but I clean those constantly. I even pee in porta-potties. I hate being full of pee and any grodiness is totally worth it to me to get rid of it. Seriously. I'm also not afraid or ashamed of squatting behind some bushes. I was born, apparently, with some very easy-going buttcheeks.
4. Stuck in an elevator with a celebrity for 24 hours?
I'm wickedly claustrophobic so I'm going to go with that guy that can escape from anything... You know. Him. I'd do just about anything to him to ensure that he'd let me out once he escaped. I'm guessing, though, that's against the spirit of the question, so I'll go with Tina Fey because she is my freaking idol. So funny. So cute. So awesome. But to make me feel better, can we make it a very large elevator?
5. Where did you and your significant other go on your first date?
Aw, ready for some cuteness? I have a story for ya. Once upon a time, there was a Melis and there was a Justin. They were freshman at the same school, in the same Engineering class. Justin was in Navy ROTC and Melis was in Air Force ROTC. She had noticed how handsome Justin was, and, even though she had multiple boyfriends at the time, she couldn't help the fact that Justin took her breath away. Truly. She had been hoping for weeks just to talk to him. They had a ball coming up - the annual Tri-Military ROTC Ball - and Melis had turned down three date offers for the night (knowing that it was mandatory to have a date) hoping and praying that Justin, the guy she'd not spoken to in her life, would ask her. In desperation, Melis called Justin one day, stammering on the phone like an idiot because in her (uncharacteristically un-suave) panic she forgot his name momentarily. She asked him something lame about homework. He replied something smart-assed. It was mortifying but it ended with Justin asking Melis to the ball and Melis doing a crazed happy dance.
On the evening of the Ball, Melis dressed to the nines with a stomach full of butterflies on speed. Justin was in his uniform and beyond handsome. The evening was perfect... And the best part? No kissing. No hand-holding. Just good, old-fashioned chivalry. Total romance. Melis and Justin were growing something incredible and weren't sure what or how but they did not want to rush into anything and instead spent months enjoying those drugged butterflies flitting around in their bellies, delighting in each new step and each new sensation and gave their roots plenty of time to grow deep and entwined.
One of these days, if you ask me nicely, I'll continue the story. It's ADORABLE.
Sigh. Loved that question! Thanks, Mama M.! Head over her way to participate your own self! (See? Working on the "Southern" thing here.)
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Collection of Random Thoughts...
I don't really have the brain power today (any day?) to form a coherent, well-organized post. So you get some random thoughts, brain-vomit-style.
*I can't ever seem to find either of my two hair-ties. I don't ever think to purchase more, so I reuse the same two and if I lose them, I'm toast. In desperation this morning, I resorted to using the twist-tie from my bread bag to tame my hair. That's sad. (But I like how loosely it holds my hair - the result is a very wispy-looking style... hm....)
*I moved the girls into booster seats at the table instead of their high chairs. It's really nice to have all of us sitting at the table for meals.
*Jordan and Addie started talking much earlier than Jack, saying their first words at 9 months, and now at 16 months, they've got quite an adorable vocabulary. Addie's is mostly food-related and Jordan is much more social. She calls everyone in the family by name, including the Baby in my "pat pat" (her word for stomach, thanks to Disney's Little Einsteins TV show). I love listening to them chatter and learn from one another. They also seem to learn from Jack to an absolutely absurd extent. I wonder if having him around doesn't have more to do with their advanced speech (relative to his at the same age) than anything else.
*I haven't been feeling too terrible lately, thanks to that awesome 2nd trimester. The only thing I'm dealing with is a weird symptom - heart palpitations that make my heart race and beat irregularly to where I get short of breath and slightly dizzy. It's pretty disquieting, but I'm dealing with it. This pregnancy is so funny to me; with Jack, I couldn't WAIT to start showing and move into maternity clothes and I was so bummed that even at 6 months, I wasn't really looking pregnant (just "fat" as my MIL delicately put it). With the twins, I resisted maternity clothes as long as possible, wearing Bella Bands and yoga pants and maxi-dresses as long as humanly possible, even to the point of discomfort. With this one, I threw my hands up in the air around 11 weeks when my pants started - started! - to feel tight and moved into mostly maternity stuff, even though it's much too big. At this point in my life, comfort is so much more important than being able to tell myself I'm still wearing my size 4 Lucky's (albeit unbuttoned and glued to my body by an elastic sleeve) or feeling like it's any kind of victory to do so. Shoot.
*Yesterday, when I picked Jack up from school, his classmate's mom was there with her 10 day old infant. I was chatting with her when big brother came out and proudly showed off his new baby brother to Jack - it was so adorable! Jack regarded the new baby and turned to me and smacked my stomach and said to his friend, "Here's MY baby brother!" (We have no idea if it's a boy/girl.) and stormed off. Later in the car, he asked if we could take the baby out to show his friends. When I told him that he could show off Addie and Jordan, he said, "They're not babies anymore. They're big now." My eyes overflowed because he's right.
*Jordan is a total dare-devil. She jumped off my bed the other night and smashed her face on the floor, giving herself rug burn on her nose. She scales chairs and cabinets and has figured out to cart Jack's step-stool around to reach more stuff. The other day, I visited the bathroom and came out to find that she had put the stool ON the sofa and was standing on it, getting ready to dive over the arm of the couch. Luckily I caught her, but all she did was giggle. She got a bloody nose by chasing after Jack and losing her footing. It's not uncommon to find her swinging from door knobs or pouncing on her siblings (and Daddy!) like a rabid cat.
*Addison is sweet and calm unless there's any kind of music involved and then she starts to sing and dance. Its too funny to see her wiggling her hips or shimmying her shoulders to a hymn during Mass. She'll break it down in the grocery store or bop her head around in her car seat. I love it - she is so adorable with it. If she wants to dance and there's no music around, she'll make up a little song and sing to herself so she can dance. I love her.
*Jack loves his "big white school" - and I couldn't be more thrilled that he's fitting in so well at his new place. I'm a little bummed that we're going to be moving farther away from it, but we'll keep going, even if it's a longer drive. He is super excited about the idea of building a house; he never really got attached to this one. In all the houses we've looked at, Jack has been sure to pick out his bedroom and where the train table will go, as well as where the babies and the new baby will sleep. I try not to get too offended when he picks a closet for Mommy and Daddy's room... He loves to look at floor plans and he delights in exploring construction sites. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to making a place that is truly ours - and giving him a place of his very own where he can pick out a color for his room and where he can feel ownership over every bit of his home. I think it's going to be a fabulous adventure for all of us, but for him, I can't even count all the benefits.
*The littles are up and rambunctious so I'm going to go color and play hide and seek!
*I can't ever seem to find either of my two hair-ties. I don't ever think to purchase more, so I reuse the same two and if I lose them, I'm toast. In desperation this morning, I resorted to using the twist-tie from my bread bag to tame my hair. That's sad. (But I like how loosely it holds my hair - the result is a very wispy-looking style... hm....)
*I moved the girls into booster seats at the table instead of their high chairs. It's really nice to have all of us sitting at the table for meals.
*Jordan and Addie started talking much earlier than Jack, saying their first words at 9 months, and now at 16 months, they've got quite an adorable vocabulary. Addie's is mostly food-related and Jordan is much more social. She calls everyone in the family by name, including the Baby in my "pat pat" (her word for stomach, thanks to Disney's Little Einsteins TV show). I love listening to them chatter and learn from one another. They also seem to learn from Jack to an absolutely absurd extent. I wonder if having him around doesn't have more to do with their advanced speech (relative to his at the same age) than anything else.
*I haven't been feeling too terrible lately, thanks to that awesome 2nd trimester. The only thing I'm dealing with is a weird symptom - heart palpitations that make my heart race and beat irregularly to where I get short of breath and slightly dizzy. It's pretty disquieting, but I'm dealing with it. This pregnancy is so funny to me; with Jack, I couldn't WAIT to start showing and move into maternity clothes and I was so bummed that even at 6 months, I wasn't really looking pregnant (just "fat" as my MIL delicately put it). With the twins, I resisted maternity clothes as long as possible, wearing Bella Bands and yoga pants and maxi-dresses as long as humanly possible, even to the point of discomfort. With this one, I threw my hands up in the air around 11 weeks when my pants started - started! - to feel tight and moved into mostly maternity stuff, even though it's much too big. At this point in my life, comfort is so much more important than being able to tell myself I'm still wearing my size 4 Lucky's (albeit unbuttoned and glued to my body by an elastic sleeve) or feeling like it's any kind of victory to do so. Shoot.
*Yesterday, when I picked Jack up from school, his classmate's mom was there with her 10 day old infant. I was chatting with her when big brother came out and proudly showed off his new baby brother to Jack - it was so adorable! Jack regarded the new baby and turned to me and smacked my stomach and said to his friend, "Here's MY baby brother!" (We have no idea if it's a boy/girl.) and stormed off. Later in the car, he asked if we could take the baby out to show his friends. When I told him that he could show off Addie and Jordan, he said, "They're not babies anymore. They're big now." My eyes overflowed because he's right.
*Jordan is a total dare-devil. She jumped off my bed the other night and smashed her face on the floor, giving herself rug burn on her nose. She scales chairs and cabinets and has figured out to cart Jack's step-stool around to reach more stuff. The other day, I visited the bathroom and came out to find that she had put the stool ON the sofa and was standing on it, getting ready to dive over the arm of the couch. Luckily I caught her, but all she did was giggle. She got a bloody nose by chasing after Jack and losing her footing. It's not uncommon to find her swinging from door knobs or pouncing on her siblings (and Daddy!) like a rabid cat.
*Addison is sweet and calm unless there's any kind of music involved and then she starts to sing and dance. Its too funny to see her wiggling her hips or shimmying her shoulders to a hymn during Mass. She'll break it down in the grocery store or bop her head around in her car seat. I love it - she is so adorable with it. If she wants to dance and there's no music around, she'll make up a little song and sing to herself so she can dance. I love her.
*Jack loves his "big white school" - and I couldn't be more thrilled that he's fitting in so well at his new place. I'm a little bummed that we're going to be moving farther away from it, but we'll keep going, even if it's a longer drive. He is super excited about the idea of building a house; he never really got attached to this one. In all the houses we've looked at, Jack has been sure to pick out his bedroom and where the train table will go, as well as where the babies and the new baby will sleep. I try not to get too offended when he picks a closet for Mommy and Daddy's room... He loves to look at floor plans and he delights in exploring construction sites. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to making a place that is truly ours - and giving him a place of his very own where he can pick out a color for his room and where he can feel ownership over every bit of his home. I think it's going to be a fabulous adventure for all of us, but for him, I can't even count all the benefits.
*The littles are up and rambunctious so I'm going to go color and play hide and seek!
Friday, September 17, 2010
Five Question Friday
Sick babies and a migraine yesterday derailed my Back2Blogging crap because I ended up going Back2Bed thanks to some Benedryl (for the kids). So, instead of continuing on to the last day, which requires too much thought and insight, I'm opting for Mama M.'s Five Question Friday instead. I just wanted a lighter, easier morning of blogging.
So, here we go:
1. What is the 1st nightmare you remember?
Easy. Peasy. It still haunts me. I was probably about 5 and I had a fever from some kind of illness and I remember dreaming that the basement level of our house had become Hell - complete with fire and eerie laughter and pitchfork carrying... Cabbage Patch Dolls? Yes. My Cabbage Patch Dolls had become demonic rulers of Hell and I was, for some reason, incapable of stopping myself from descending the stairs straight into their firey clutches. I think I woke up shortly before they actually grabbed me, or my mom woke me up because I was screaming, but I vividly recall the way the fever made me feel hot and how it made the dream seem more real - I also remember feeling my body throb and it seeming like the devilish music the Dolls were swaying to was actually something I could hear. Ugh - it was terrible. I HATE fever dreams and I will NEVER own or allow another Cabbage Patch Doll into my house.
2. Favorite sport to play or watch?
Okay, I don't really *play* sports. I'll flop around like a moron on some court or another or on a field or something, but it's really just a bad imitation of coordination so I avoid that like the plague. However, I am a die-hard football fan. College, pro, doesn't matter. I love football season, I love football food, I love football culture, I love, love, love it. I love the random dings and chimes associated with network football coverage, and the cadence of the game soothes me, I love the way the announcers' voices sound and the entire experience can always put me at ease. Unless it's a Notre Dame game, in which case I don't relax until it's over.
3. Once piece of trendy fashion I could pull off?
Well, I don't mind leggings and I wear those only because I wear them with shirts long enough to hide the badonkadonk and I rather like stuffing leggings into clunky fuzzy boots because the bigness of the boots makes my legs look skinnier by comparison. And I don't like jeggings (ew, childhood bad memories of the 80's) so I don't give a hoot about them. I think I wish I could do skinny jeans, but that's just because I wish my badonk weren't so squishy and melty-looking and if I had a sweet little tush, I wouldn't care what I'd be putting it into, pants-wise, because I'd be so happy to have a hot hiney. I do wish I could pull off hats, though. I feel like they can totally make an outfit and they look good on me, but I am always afraid I'll look like I'm trying too hard. Does that make sense? Like, look, I built this whole outfit around a hat. How lame am I for trying so hard to look cool? Because I'd totally have to build an outfit around a hat and I'd be desperately trying to look cool. I think I'm NOT a fashionista at all.
4. Did you make good grades in school?
Oh boy, I was a total over achiever. My high school GPA was like a 4.78 or something absurd like that because I am a complete and total geek. In college, uh, that slipped a little because I over extended myself with trying to do chemical engineering and biochemistry as a double major plus Air Force ROTC and enjoy college life. So I eeked it out of freshman year with the first D in my life (some sort of crazy calculus course) that was a huge relief to get because I passed the class... and got a C in physics and decided that was all for the birds and switched to Political Science and History (blech, in retrospect, blech) and promptly resumed my over-achieving (and desperate attempts to resurrect my GPA from the damage dealt during my frosh year...). Yeah, I was kinda obnoxious.
5. What magazines do you subscribe to?
Well, none. None by choice, but I somehow get American Baby sent to me ALL the time for free. It's like the magazine gods know that I'm perpetually pregnant so they just keep my house constantly stocked with baby mags. It's a little irksome because I'm not really sure, at this point, how many "Your Total Newborn Care How-To Guide"s I really need... or how many "Breast or Bottle, Which Is Right For You" articles I can read in the bathroom anymore. I generally just give them to the girls who love to look at other babies and call it a day.
Head over to Mama M.'s blog to play along, or leave your answers as a comment! I'd love to know what you're up to!
So, here we go:
1. What is the 1st nightmare you remember?
Easy. Peasy. It still haunts me. I was probably about 5 and I had a fever from some kind of illness and I remember dreaming that the basement level of our house had become Hell - complete with fire and eerie laughter and pitchfork carrying... Cabbage Patch Dolls? Yes. My Cabbage Patch Dolls had become demonic rulers of Hell and I was, for some reason, incapable of stopping myself from descending the stairs straight into their firey clutches. I think I woke up shortly before they actually grabbed me, or my mom woke me up because I was screaming, but I vividly recall the way the fever made me feel hot and how it made the dream seem more real - I also remember feeling my body throb and it seeming like the devilish music the Dolls were swaying to was actually something I could hear. Ugh - it was terrible. I HATE fever dreams and I will NEVER own or allow another Cabbage Patch Doll into my house.
2. Favorite sport to play or watch?
Okay, I don't really *play* sports. I'll flop around like a moron on some court or another or on a field or something, but it's really just a bad imitation of coordination so I avoid that like the plague. However, I am a die-hard football fan. College, pro, doesn't matter. I love football season, I love football food, I love football culture, I love, love, love it. I love the random dings and chimes associated with network football coverage, and the cadence of the game soothes me, I love the way the announcers' voices sound and the entire experience can always put me at ease. Unless it's a Notre Dame game, in which case I don't relax until it's over.
3. Once piece of trendy fashion I could pull off?
Well, I don't mind leggings and I wear those only because I wear them with shirts long enough to hide the badonkadonk and I rather like stuffing leggings into clunky fuzzy boots because the bigness of the boots makes my legs look skinnier by comparison. And I don't like jeggings (ew, childhood bad memories of the 80's) so I don't give a hoot about them. I think I wish I could do skinny jeans, but that's just because I wish my badonk weren't so squishy and melty-looking and if I had a sweet little tush, I wouldn't care what I'd be putting it into, pants-wise, because I'd be so happy to have a hot hiney. I do wish I could pull off hats, though. I feel like they can totally make an outfit and they look good on me, but I am always afraid I'll look like I'm trying too hard. Does that make sense? Like, look, I built this whole outfit around a hat. How lame am I for trying so hard to look cool? Because I'd totally have to build an outfit around a hat and I'd be desperately trying to look cool. I think I'm NOT a fashionista at all.
4. Did you make good grades in school?
Oh boy, I was a total over achiever. My high school GPA was like a 4.78 or something absurd like that because I am a complete and total geek. In college, uh, that slipped a little because I over extended myself with trying to do chemical engineering and biochemistry as a double major plus Air Force ROTC and enjoy college life. So I eeked it out of freshman year with the first D in my life (some sort of crazy calculus course) that was a huge relief to get because I passed the class... and got a C in physics and decided that was all for the birds and switched to Political Science and History (blech, in retrospect, blech) and promptly resumed my over-achieving (and desperate attempts to resurrect my GPA from the damage dealt during my frosh year...). Yeah, I was kinda obnoxious.
5. What magazines do you subscribe to?
Well, none. None by choice, but I somehow get American Baby sent to me ALL the time for free. It's like the magazine gods know that I'm perpetually pregnant so they just keep my house constantly stocked with baby mags. It's a little irksome because I'm not really sure, at this point, how many "Your Total Newborn Care How-To Guide"s I really need... or how many "Breast or Bottle, Which Is Right For You" articles I can read in the bathroom anymore. I generally just give them to the girls who love to look at other babies and call it a day.
Head over to Mama M.'s blog to play along, or leave your answers as a comment! I'd love to know what you're up to!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Through Your Eyes (Back2Blogging Day 3)
It's the 3rd day of the Back2Blogging challenge with the SITS Girls and I've found a post with a title I particularly like to share with you. It's not that the title is clever, or that it's catchy or has an awesome search engine ranking... it's that it's addressed directly to my son. This blog is as much about being MY outlet as it is about journaling my path through motherhood, and one day, I'd love for my kiddos to be able to read about it. This post is for Jack and for me, probably more than it was for my readers, and I'm proud of myself for creating this post the way I did. Does any of that make sense? Gah, probably not!
My dearest Jack, I had no idea, when you found my old digital camera, that you would figure out how to use it. Nor had I any idea that when you brought it to me and asked me to "lookit pitchers" on the "commuter" that I would find on its memory stick a treasure of the rarest kind: insight into how you look at the world. I found, among the pixels, another clue into who you are - into what is most important to you and into what you see through your eyes.
When you were very little, before you could crawl and roll, I read in a magazine that parents should crawl around their house and "look at things from the child's perspective" in order to help baby-proof the home. I did that, and I picked up nick-knacks and I plugged outlets and wound up cords... but there is no way I really "saw" what you see. I didn't realize how wonderfully interesting that plastic "pukkin" in its basket of leaves can be to a toddler just discovering the fact that seasons change and holidays are special occasions replete with their own adornments that set them apart from every other day. The pukkin that I take for granted as a routine decoration that just goes along with the drop in temperature is so much more to you - it's strange and different and out-of-place and therefore worthy of capturing with your pitcher taker. It's fodder for deep discussions about the color orange and the fact that leaves do grow on trees which are very tall and sometimes hide the birds making all that noise. So that these things now sit on the floor in your living room is astonishing and interesting, and I never grasped that until now.
Your toys are important to you in the same way that my cell phone is important to me. The way my wallet and keys and credit cards are... Those things are essential to me getting through the day and they are the tools I use to conduct myself in this world. Your toys are your tools for interacting with your world. They are how you express yourself and how you learn, and they are as integral to your day and to your life as my phone and internet are to mine. So it is perfectly natural that you would capture your "dackter" in the camera's memory - though I cast it aside as an annoying nuisance to trip over and put away each night, it is so much more than that to you.
... Your airplanes are classified into two kinds: "Airplanes," and "Brrrrrm-brrrrrm"'s, which Daddy is forever trying to convince you are actually called "propeller aircraft" but I keep telling him is an obnoxiously specific name and using the sound it makes is not only more efficient but more practical. We have long discussions about airplanes; we talk about the sounds they make, the "boom booms" they carry and cause things to go "bouf", their speed, where they go, whether or not we can see them "high up in sky" or if "there too mannay clouds"... Maybe one day you'll be an aerospace engineer like your Dad, or maybe you'll make your desire to "fly up in space to look at stars" come to fruition...
I had no idea, Little Man, that when we bought our house in Georgia near the railroad tracks we were buying into a life-long love of all things train. I don't know if it was that twice-daily visit from the St. Mary's Railroad engine that imparted your love of locomotives, cars, tracks, bridges, tunnels and cargo, or if you were born hard-wired to be fascinated by the rails, but I do know that, even though we don't have a train that rocks past our house every day, our lives are full of "hoot-hoot"-ing and "chug-chug"-ing just as often anyway and I would not want it any other way. Your train-o-philia is so much a part of your personality, I am not in the least surprised to see frame after frame of photographs of your collection - the tracks, the table, the engines and cars... Jack, I love your enthusiasm and focus so much.
This photo is so bittersweet to me. I don't think I have any other pictures of me nursing any of you kids. Jack, you captured, in such a respectful and innocent way, one of the most intimate moments I get as a Mommy. It makes me sad, to an extent, that this is what you see from me so often - me, on the sofa, baby on lap... but it makes me so happy that you're there with me, sharing the experience. Even though you're over two and a half years old, Jack, and even though those chunky pink legs belong to your little sister Addie, they just as easily could have belonged to you; it wasn't that long ago that I was holding you on that Boppy, on my lap, on that sofa. I never would have seen myself this way if you hadn't given me this photograph. Thanks, Buddy... it means so much.
My first inclination when I saw this last one was to holler at you to stop flashing yourself because it will hurt your eyes, but it's too late, and I should just hush and enjoy looking at how blond your hair is and how blue your eyes are and how long your lashes are. So here I am, marveling at how bright you are in so many ways, Kiddo... and at how awesome it is that you've given me the chance to step behind those bright blue eyes and look out from your windows and see your world... It's fascinating and heart-warming and funny all at once.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
A Post I Wish More People Read...
Continuing on with the SITS Girls and Back2Blogging week, I'm re-posting a very old post that I wish more people had read.
I don't wish more people had read it because it was insightful or beautifully-written or touching... It's just funny. But more than that, it's one of those mom-ments (get it?) when we realize that moms aren't perfect. We make mistakes. And our harshest critics are ourselves. But at the end of the day, we're still doing the best we can and everything we do is out of love and devotion to our families... so long as we don't take ourselves too seriously, even our doofiest mistakes can help us grow - both in what we've learned and in our sense of humor that makes all the stress of motherhood a little easier to handle.
I was utterly furious when I wrote this post - furious and dejected and frustrated... but the entire situation ended up being hilarious and it's my best example of how I keep from being overwhelmed by those annoying "life" bumps that come along... just by laughing at the absurdity of the adventures of being a mommy. (Be warned: there are a couple of "f-bombs" embedded in this particular post!)
Titled "About A Moron" from May of 2008:
So today I did what I consider to be basically the stupedest (yes, I am going to use it as if it were a legitimate word) thing I have probably ever done in my life.
Let me preface this whole story with one fact that you must always, ALWAYS keep in mind while reading it: I am a BRICK. Educated, yes, intelligent, fairly, but underneath it all, a big, giant, unthinking BRICK.
I had to drop something off on base at the off-crew office today at a certain time. I showed up with Jack two hours before the deadline and was very proud of myself for being on time. As I was depositing my stuff, someone came up to me and told me that I had missed the window of opportunity and that I would have to collect my things and take them with me. I was so upset! I nearly cried right there because I was also dropping things off for Amber and I promised her I'd have it there on time. I asked what he was talking about because no one had told me the time had changed and he replied, "Yeah, well, it was 30 minutes ago... sorry... they tried to get the word out so I guess you missed the message." Well, I know very well that I would have known about any time changes since I'm one of the people that PUTS the word out about such things. So, dejectedly, I left with my stuff, hoping that things might work out next time and feeling like a huge turd because I was letting people down.
So I got back to the car and started strapping Jack into his car seat. I had my bag slung over my shoulder and my car keys in one hand and he was struggling to pull them out of my hand and pushing random buttons and beeps were going crazy and it was annoying so I chucked the keys in the driver's seat and put my bag on the ground to use both hands to wrestle him into his seat. Finally situated, I gave him some smarties and some nuggets and shut the door. I picked up my bag to toss it on the passenger's seat and head to the playgr.... FUCK the door was locked. LOCKED. All of the doors were locked. The keys were on the driver's seat. I was looking at them. Jack was in his car seat. I was looking at him.
I lost it. I wailed, "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" and just put my forehead on the window and started saying, "no no no no no" and sobbing.
This was not my car. This was Matt's car. I was driving Matt's fucking car and my child was sitting inside and my keys were in there with him. And there were lots and lots of dudes looking at me like I belonged in an institution (I do.) or something.
Someone came up to me and asked what was going on and I explained the situation and he said he'd call dispatch and base security would come help me out.
I was very grateful.
But then it turns out that base security entailed several trucks, fire truck, ambulance and patrol cars. With lights and sirens.
As if my humiliation wasn't at it's pinnacle, now I'm a spectacle in addition to a shit-show.
I do, at this point, need to reassure everyone that it was only 68 degrees outside instead of the 95 degrees it has been for the last week. So at least God thought I deserved SOME kind of break. I would have broken a window within 30 seconds if it were any hotter outside.
Jack was just chilling in there the whole time, smiling at the 50 or so people that stopped to say any number of things along the lines of, "wow, that sucks!" or "gosh what a nice car - I hope they don't have to break a door off!" or "wow, this is going to take awhile" or "what will her husband say?" etc.
Meanwhile, someone has just informed me that the deadline I thought I had missed hadn't been missed after all and they were wrong and I can go ahead and drop my stuff off. So apparently Fate had a shitty way of keeping me there so I could get everything turned in before I got home and had to turn around. Oh, because I forgot to add that I have no cell phone because it is on the coffee table so I couldn't call anyone to ask what the hell was going on until I got back here.
Anyway, back to the car that has my keys and my baby inside...
So after a bunch of guys assess the situation as being beyond hope, one of the security guys shows up and has a slim-jim to pop the locks (which are electronic so the old methods don't work) and I had to explain to him how important it was that they try really really hard to get this fixed without hurting the car at all because it's um, well, not my f-ing car. (And boy, oh boy, the looks I got when I explained that I was tooling around in my husband's best friend's car while they're out to sea...) I got chewed out for giving more of a shit about the car than my kid, which stung, but I know where my priorities were and I knew I'd buy Matt a new car before I let Jack sit in there for more than another 20 minutes, but I had to at least try to make sure they were as careful as possible.
They did, after a couple minutes, get it open and I doled out some massive hugs to the guys and scooped Jack out of his carseat and just held him for like 10 minutes while people thinned out and shook their heads at my idiocy. He was totally fine. He actually ate more food than he has in a week while he was sitting there, so I was pretty happy about that. The car is fine. I, however, not so much. I am a brick. No question about it. I'm embarrassed, I'm ashamed, I was scared, and now I'm writing about it because I'm a glutton for punishment.
Thank God it wasn't too hot out. Thank God Jack is too young to remember my negligent parenting. Thank God that He watches out for drunks and fools because I am the latter and would LOVE to be the former to forget about all of this nonsense.
At least I met the deadline. So really, the only person I let down today was me.
ROCK on.
I don't wish more people had read it because it was insightful or beautifully-written or touching... It's just funny. But more than that, it's one of those mom-ments (get it?) when we realize that moms aren't perfect. We make mistakes. And our harshest critics are ourselves. But at the end of the day, we're still doing the best we can and everything we do is out of love and devotion to our families... so long as we don't take ourselves too seriously, even our doofiest mistakes can help us grow - both in what we've learned and in our sense of humor that makes all the stress of motherhood a little easier to handle.
I was utterly furious when I wrote this post - furious and dejected and frustrated... but the entire situation ended up being hilarious and it's my best example of how I keep from being overwhelmed by those annoying "life" bumps that come along... just by laughing at the absurdity of the adventures of being a mommy. (Be warned: there are a couple of "f-bombs" embedded in this particular post!)
Titled "About A Moron" from May of 2008:
So today I did what I consider to be basically the stupedest (yes, I am going to use it as if it were a legitimate word) thing I have probably ever done in my life.
Let me preface this whole story with one fact that you must always, ALWAYS keep in mind while reading it: I am a BRICK. Educated, yes, intelligent, fairly, but underneath it all, a big, giant, unthinking BRICK.
I had to drop something off on base at the off-crew office today at a certain time. I showed up with Jack two hours before the deadline and was very proud of myself for being on time. As I was depositing my stuff, someone came up to me and told me that I had missed the window of opportunity and that I would have to collect my things and take them with me. I was so upset! I nearly cried right there because I was also dropping things off for Amber and I promised her I'd have it there on time. I asked what he was talking about because no one had told me the time had changed and he replied, "Yeah, well, it was 30 minutes ago... sorry... they tried to get the word out so I guess you missed the message." Well, I know very well that I would have known about any time changes since I'm one of the people that PUTS the word out about such things. So, dejectedly, I left with my stuff, hoping that things might work out next time and feeling like a huge turd because I was letting people down.
So I got back to the car and started strapping Jack into his car seat. I had my bag slung over my shoulder and my car keys in one hand and he was struggling to pull them out of my hand and pushing random buttons and beeps were going crazy and it was annoying so I chucked the keys in the driver's seat and put my bag on the ground to use both hands to wrestle him into his seat. Finally situated, I gave him some smarties and some nuggets and shut the door. I picked up my bag to toss it on the passenger's seat and head to the playgr.... FUCK the door was locked. LOCKED. All of the doors were locked. The keys were on the driver's seat. I was looking at them. Jack was in his car seat. I was looking at him.
I lost it. I wailed, "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" and just put my forehead on the window and started saying, "no no no no no" and sobbing.
This was not my car. This was Matt's car. I was driving Matt's fucking car and my child was sitting inside and my keys were in there with him. And there were lots and lots of dudes looking at me like I belonged in an institution (I do.) or something.
Someone came up to me and asked what was going on and I explained the situation and he said he'd call dispatch and base security would come help me out.
I was very grateful.
But then it turns out that base security entailed several trucks, fire truck, ambulance and patrol cars. With lights and sirens.
As if my humiliation wasn't at it's pinnacle, now I'm a spectacle in addition to a shit-show.
I do, at this point, need to reassure everyone that it was only 68 degrees outside instead of the 95 degrees it has been for the last week. So at least God thought I deserved SOME kind of break. I would have broken a window within 30 seconds if it were any hotter outside.
Jack was just chilling in there the whole time, smiling at the 50 or so people that stopped to say any number of things along the lines of, "wow, that sucks!" or "gosh what a nice car - I hope they don't have to break a door off!" or "wow, this is going to take awhile" or "what will her husband say?" etc.
Meanwhile, someone has just informed me that the deadline I thought I had missed hadn't been missed after all and they were wrong and I can go ahead and drop my stuff off. So apparently Fate had a shitty way of keeping me there so I could get everything turned in before I got home and had to turn around. Oh, because I forgot to add that I have no cell phone because it is on the coffee table so I couldn't call anyone to ask what the hell was going on until I got back here.
Anyway, back to the car that has my keys and my baby inside...
So after a bunch of guys assess the situation as being beyond hope, one of the security guys shows up and has a slim-jim to pop the locks (which are electronic so the old methods don't work) and I had to explain to him how important it was that they try really really hard to get this fixed without hurting the car at all because it's um, well, not my f-ing car. (And boy, oh boy, the looks I got when I explained that I was tooling around in my husband's best friend's car while they're out to sea...) I got chewed out for giving more of a shit about the car than my kid, which stung, but I know where my priorities were and I knew I'd buy Matt a new car before I let Jack sit in there for more than another 20 minutes, but I had to at least try to make sure they were as careful as possible.
They did, after a couple minutes, get it open and I doled out some massive hugs to the guys and scooped Jack out of his carseat and just held him for like 10 minutes while people thinned out and shook their heads at my idiocy. He was totally fine. He actually ate more food than he has in a week while he was sitting there, so I was pretty happy about that. The car is fine. I, however, not so much. I am a brick. No question about it. I'm embarrassed, I'm ashamed, I was scared, and now I'm writing about it because I'm a glutton for punishment.
Thank God it wasn't too hot out. Thank God Jack is too young to remember my negligent parenting. Thank God that He watches out for drunks and fools because I am the latter and would LOVE to be the former to forget about all of this nonsense.
At least I met the deadline. So really, the only person I let down today was me.
ROCK on.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Back2Blogging #1 - My First Blog Post
It's not really that I've been away... really... it's just that I've been distracted and tired and barfy... but, ya know... I could use some inspiration here and there. So, I'm joining the STIS Girls in their blog challenge - Back2Blogging.
Today, we're re-posting our first post... with possible changes, re-writes, etc... as well as what we like about it.
Here it is: "As If You Don't Waste Enough Time Online Already"
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I suppose I'm doing myself no favors by creating yet another avenue of keeping up with our lives. I'm injecting another method for wasting what little free time I have and thereby making it hard to complain without people rolling their eyes when I say, "gosh, I'm just so busy/tired." What's more, is that I'm sure it's no secret, but I'm a pretty big doufus 90% of the time and a blog is basically guaranteeing that I'll be exposing myself to ridicule and criticism every time I pull a stunt like letting Jack take a grand dump on my cell phone after his bath.
Oh well.
I know most of you are avid readers of the baby page, or at least avid lookers-at-pictures-but-not-leavers-of-comments, but this blog will probably have a little more of the adult (*gasp* but not "adult" as in, wouldn't want to let a priest read it) and a little less of the "oh look how cute my baby is." But, let's be serious, my baby is damn cute, and I'll probably talk about him at least 50% of the time because my life consists of little else.
Distilled down, I just said this page is going to be really boring. That being the case, read at your own risk. Enjoy if you can. And welcome.
Best,
Melissa
****
I began my blog when my husband was deployed and I was lonely - reaching out to a few friends and family who read and followed my life with little Jack when it was just the 3 of us. I don't think I'd change anything about the post, and I'm pretty glad that I've not waived from my original intent. I did a brief foray into the world of AdSense, but realized that I'm not about trying to keep up with the likes of MckMama, so I took them down and intend to just plain keep it real (note: there is nothing wrong with ads and using a blog as a source of income; I'm just not there right now) as an outlet for my passions and creativity, my venue for venting and gushing, and as a way of connecting to friends all over the world. And for me, that's just fine. What do you think?
Today, we're re-posting our first post... with possible changes, re-writes, etc... as well as what we like about it.
Here it is: "As If You Don't Waste Enough Time Online Already"
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I suppose I'm doing myself no favors by creating yet another avenue of keeping up with our lives. I'm injecting another method for wasting what little free time I have and thereby making it hard to complain without people rolling their eyes when I say, "gosh, I'm just so busy/tired." What's more, is that I'm sure it's no secret, but I'm a pretty big doufus 90% of the time and a blog is basically guaranteeing that I'll be exposing myself to ridicule and criticism every time I pull a stunt like letting Jack take a grand dump on my cell phone after his bath.
Oh well.
I know most of you are avid readers of the baby page, or at least avid lookers-at-pictures-but-not-leavers-of-comments, but this blog will probably have a little more of the adult (*gasp* but not "adult" as in, wouldn't want to let a priest read it) and a little less of the "oh look how cute my baby is." But, let's be serious, my baby is damn cute, and I'll probably talk about him at least 50% of the time because my life consists of little else.
Distilled down, I just said this page is going to be really boring. That being the case, read at your own risk. Enjoy if you can. And welcome.
Best,
Melissa
****
I began my blog when my husband was deployed and I was lonely - reaching out to a few friends and family who read and followed my life with little Jack when it was just the 3 of us. I don't think I'd change anything about the post, and I'm pretty glad that I've not waived from my original intent. I did a brief foray into the world of AdSense, but realized that I'm not about trying to keep up with the likes of MckMama, so I took them down and intend to just plain keep it real (note: there is nothing wrong with ads and using a blog as a source of income; I'm just not there right now) as an outlet for my passions and creativity, my venue for venting and gushing, and as a way of connecting to friends all over the world. And for me, that's just fine. What do you think?
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