All mine

This is my place to be honest, to be the real me, to have anonymity. A place to drink too much coffee or wine depending on the time of day. This is my outlet. It is mine and unlike everything else in my life, it doesn't have to be perfect, but it's mine.

Pride

Pride is a weird thing. When you are young you can be proud of yourself. You congratulate others but do not understand the act of being proud of someone else. That type of pride only comes from being a parent.
This past weekend was a pride filled weekend. It was also stressful but we made it through with only one screaming episode, and a couple big bruises. The screaming episode was me at other parents who were so utterly and blatantly rude I could not contain my disdain any longer. The bruises are from motocross, though I secretly wished they were the eyes of a Dad I could have brawled with. That was at a cup stacking tournament.
Sport stacking is the actual term for the art of quickly stacking expensive, brightly colored plastic cups. There are clubs and National competitions. There are world records. There are mats, rings, timers, bags and stems. Our school team has a logo and shirts. Child #2 and Child #3 are now competitive sport stackers. Child #2 went before the Judge and beat her own time on the cycle by 3 seconds. I thought she might get nervous and fumble but she did great. Child #3 had only gotten his cups in the mail 2 weeks prior. He refused to stack with his sister’s hot pink cups. He did doubles with another 4 year old, the parent/child doubles, and everything else but the relay. They did not win anything or break any world records but they went, did their best, and were polite the entire day. They followed the rules, beat their own best times and had fun. Child #2 did made it through qualifying but not the finals. It was exciting to see her name on the wall in 7th place. They only take the top 5 but we were still proud. All of the other kids had been stacking for at least 2 years, so making the wall on year 1 was fantastic.
Last season Child #1 started racing motocross. His 1st race was worse than I had imagined. I guess I thought that so many things came so naturally to him, how would this be any different? Well, it was. He was getting lapped, and wasn’t making it a whole lap without falling. His times were roughly 5 minutes each.
The start of this season was quite a bit different. He went out there, was 3rd to the hole shot and finished 8th out of 25 kids. He doesn’t have the latest and greatest bike and he almost takes pride in that. He doesn’t need to have the latest and greatest and he had a great start to the season. The bike doesn’t matter, the dedication matters. The love for the sport matters. Knowing he tried his hardest matters. His lap times were a minute and a half better than last year. He was riding faster, jumping higher, and owning the track more than ever before. Dad must have been proud because he dropped $60 on new goggles. Pride can be expensive.
Pride is happy. Pride is belonging. Pride is self esteem. Pride is awesome to share with your family. This proud mom just asked two kids to get their cups off the dining room table for dinner, and a proud dad is teaching the other how to power wash his own bike.
If you are better today than you were yesterday, you are winning, and you should be proud.

Okay. So I had a whole blog typed up and with one bad swipe of a finger it was gone. Just like that. Magic I tell you! Or wine but I am pretty sure it was magic.I think because my fingers were wet from switching laundry. What else would I do after having a couple glasses of wine. I will tell you what else. Thanking spell check. That’s what. And saying things that are thoughts but that your mouth says. Like how a guy parts looks like a sea anemone floating around when in the bath tub. And then I pretend to have guy parts and swirling them with some fancy hip motions and then back to laundry. And how I wonder what the nib means on the coffee bag where it says cocoa nib.  And that I should probably look on EBay. I feel good stuff being listed. And then I remember why I should only drink with friends. I get into too much trouble on my own. I wish I had a treadmill.

Okay. So I had a whole blog typed up and with one bad swipe of a finger it was gone. Just like that. Magic I tell you! Or wine but I am pretty sure it was magic.I think because my fingers were wet from switching laundry. What else would I do after having a couple glasses of wine. I will tell you what else. Thanking spell check. That’s what. And saying things that are thoughts but that your mouth says. Like how a guy parts looks like a sea anemone floating around when in the bath tub. And then I pretend to have guy parts and swirling them with some fancy hip motions and then back to laundry. And how I wonder what the nib means on the coffee bag where it says cocoa nib.  And that I should probably look on EBay. I feel good stuff being listed. And then I remember why I should only drink with friends. I get into too much trouble on my own. I wish I had a treadmill.

Playing Sims

How to play Sims…
1. Create people. Typically your first people will be the “real you”, though maybe thinner, crazier clothes or something you are to scared to do with your real hair.
2. Build your house. It will only cost $160 for an addition. If you don’t like the carpet it’s just a couple clicks and a couple hundred to change it.
3. Buy a pet. I suggest a dog. The cats tend to meow a lot and it gets annoying if you have the sound on.
4. Create neighbors. These may end up being like your friends. You could even name them after your friends or family but that gets weird if the goal the game gives you is to be romantic with a neighbor and it’s between your father-in-law or your brother. Creating fake friends makes it less weird.
5. You can name them anything you want. One of my guys is Lex Luther because I was running out of rockstars and other names I really liked.
6. Get everyone jobs. They can’t be bums forever. Furniture costs money.
7. Get everyone a hobby. It can be as boring as fishing or as exciting as ghost hunting. Though in Sim-land it is all pretty boring to watch.

Reasons Sims are fun…
1. You get to tell everyone what to do and for the most part they do it.
2. Pets do not need vet visits, daily food, and don’t poop. They also find money.
3. Your Sim can Be Romantic with a Sim next door. Some Sims work on different schedules and they don’t seem to mind someone else being romantic or making Woo-Hoo. That is unless it is in front of the TV and they are trying to watch.
4. If your Sim doesn’t have a car or a toilet or whatever you can just go to another house, walk in and use theirs. With a few clicks, that toilet can be moved to your house. And a few more clicks, so can the neighbor.

Then, I forget to play or don’t have time and I go back to people who haven’t bathed, virtual pee puddles everywhere and a dirty pool.

Getting old

I know I am getting older but at the same time I don’t feel old. The kids who race in the college boy class are in the mid-late teens. Yes, I called them kids.

The other day I lied about my age. I lied that I was 4 years younger and not even because I wanted to fool someone, but at that moment in time I really felt 4 years younger.

I was taking a survey because, well, I enjoy a good survey and realized that my age was the last age in that category. In March I will be ‘leveling up’ so to speak.

I just hope that the time doesn’t ever come that I say my age, right or wrong, and the person thinks it’s a lie.

On the plus side to getting older, I am more than halfway to getting my senior citizen discounts. And also on the plus side, maybe getting older isn’t so bad. I obviously feel younger than I am, or I am already going senile. Either way it’s a win win.

Canada

Every year I have my kids do a survey. This is the second year that Canada has been listed as the place to visit. My thoughts were Canada? Really??? What does Canada have that would be new and exciting? Big warm hats, a lot of people who say Eh, some weird TV shows, and the other side of the Niagara Falls. Is that really worth the 11 hours to drive there?
Maybe they are channeling past relatives, as our last name is very French Canadian, as I am told. Maybe up there they would pronounce it correctly, but then I wouldn’t know when telemarketers were calling.
I went to Canada once. I was about 22. Back then you didn’t need a passport. We just drove up. Guys came up to ask if we were basically smuggling anything in and we said no because even if we were we wouldn’t admit it right there at the border.
We couldn’t find any speed limit signs. I was so worried I’d get some crazy ticket in French. The Canadian cop would ask me questions in french and I would just keep saying oi.
Cop- Do you know how fast you were going (in French)?
Me -Oi.
Cop- do you understand(in French)?
Me- Oi…oi…oi…oi.
It would be like when Mexicans come to the U.S. and they just keep saying yes, even though they have no clue what you are saying.
Then came the thought that America is Canada’s Mexico.
I bet that is already a coined phrase in the upper North Americas. Those people know who they are.
On my questionnaire I need to put learn to speak fluent French.

And just in case you are planning your trip to the big C, when there are no signs it is assumed that you go a certain speed, which I can’t remember but it was almost the equivalent to 25 mph. I am pretty sure it was 40, but check your gauge cluster for that bit of info.

Warning: Anything non-pc may or may not be the opinion of the writer, and I heard you need a passport now. But the high here today was 31, so it probably sucks in Canada right now and you probably would want to wait until summer.

15lbs of canine glory

Things you say to or about your pet that you hopefully never have to say to or about your kid (or someone else’s).

1.  Stop sniffing that poop.

2.  You ate too much grass that’s why you puked all over the living room.

3.  Get in your kennel.

4.  Stop licking your butt.

5.  That kitty is going to beat you up. 

6.  Stop growling.

7.  Why do you smell like old Cheetos?

8.  The doorbell was on TV.  Don’t get yourself all worked up.

9.  If you eat another rubber duck, or crayon, or cat turd I may choke you!

10.  He doesn’t bite.

11.  That’s just the way he looks.  Yeah, he has some jacked up teeth but we think it gives him character.

12.  Why would you roll around on a dead frog?

Ten

Dear Son number 1,
Nine years ago I was putting you to bed and on that night I wrote you a letter. I cried and I wrote. I went to brush your one curl behind your ear but earlier that day we had taken you for your first haircut and it was no longer there. It was sitting nicely in a bag on your dresser with a ‘my first haircut’ card.
I do not remember what I wrote or where that letter ended up. I am sure it is here somewhere and when you are moved out and doing your own thing I will find that letter and read it and cry all over again.
This letter may end up very much the same. You are just a bigger, smarter, smellier version of you as a one year old. You still push every boundary, always pick the hardest route possible, and want to be the greatest at everything. You still climb, run and ride as fast as you can possibly go. You are non-stop from the time you wake up until you fall asleep. You are very particular about certain things.
Sometimes you don’t care if the bus is already pulling up and you will still give me a quick kiss before climbing on. Sometimes you will save me the last tic-tac or M&M out of your pack for me. You smile without smiling a little bit more when you see my in the audience at school. Everyone thinks you are serious but they just don’t know you like I do.
You by far, have been the most expensive kid and on those days I can’t wait for you to be eighteen. Just kidding. The time has already flown by. In six short years you can have a car, and a job, and possibly *gasp* a girlfriend. You will not need me as much but I hope that even when your girlfriend pulls up, you will still have a second to give me a quick kiss before you go. I am sure the tic-tac will go to her. That is okay.
Just remember who washed all those muddy clothes, who surprised you with scavenger hunts after school, and who will love you more than anyone else in the whole world. That’s right. And I will be waiting right here for you when you need me.

Mom

"All these things will mean more when I’m gone. Just be good until then." -B.W.

Donations

The other day I heard that a higher percentage of people in the lower income brackets give back than those in the higher income brackets.
I am no where near the upper income that they were talking about. I work 3 part time jobs. I actually don’t even know what my yearly income is. I do know that paying bills is hard. Having to skip a bill and pay the next week is a way of life sometimes.
Last week when a family lost there house and everything that didn’t leave with them that Thursday morning was gone. This was 6 days before Christmas. I could not imagine not giving anything. So we donated a small amount of money. They were able to buy pajamas that night.
I also worked in a soup kitchen. I volunteered at the school. It was my mission to do at least one good turn every day before Christmas. I was successful and I felt awesome.
One day I hope a big pile of money falls in my lap so I can give it to those who need it more. Then I can be exactly where I am now, accept maybe with a motorhome parked outside.
So, if anyone is feeling gracious and has a motorhome that is no longer being used, I know of a family that would be willing to take it off your hands. I could barter for cheese cake

Stop! Dammit!

I had a conversation 2 mornings ago. And of course I sit here wondering if I should have said what I did. I am pretty sure who I was talking to agreed and seriously though, Bitch is crazy! Just for the record, I said it in nicer words than that.