HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL!! I just wanted to say that to everyone who stops here. The Holidays are just as exciting this year as when I was 5. My dad woke us up to "When the red red robin comes bob bob bobbin along" being played on our 1st ever record player. I got a baby doll and a flannel nightgown. This was the first Christmas I recall. Our tree was silver (a fake one) with a turning light on the floor near it that changed the colors on it. Green, red, gold, and blue. My dad was a big fan of Christmas and getting up early. My Mom wanted nothing more than to sleep in late. The record player was red. Not plastic, a wooden case with red fabric on it. I remember him pointing out how cool the record player was. Monotone, no stereo available yet. We had a black and white giant (19") console tv. We watched it every night. There were no programs on during the day in the 50's. The soap powder we used had towels in it and was called DUZ. The washing machine had a wringer on the top and drained with a hose into the sink. The wet clothes had to be hung up to dry as dryers had not been invented yet. My Grandmother's stove was a wood-burning stove and she kept a match safe by it on the wall. I am blessed extremely to not have to hang out clothes to dry today. There were no microwave ovens and toast was made in the broiler pan of the oven, gas oven. No electric oven for us. Quilts did not come from the store, and your mother made most of your clothes. I wore a dress every day to school because it was mandatory for girls. On cold days we wore pants under the dresses. Christmas still means just as much to me today as when I was a little girl. The years have changed the record player to an I Pod, and the night gown into a fleece robe with Spongebob on it. I still feel the same excitement when I look into the faces of my grandchildren on present day, whatever day we celebrate it. And I have gained understanding of the day and now appreciate the greatest gift of all, The Savior of the world.

Today is the day before the day before the day before. We always do Christmas presents on the night of the 24th. This began when the kids were visiting their dad on Christmas morning, court-ordered, so several decades now. You would think my son could remember that for the last 25 or 30 years we have all gathered at my house for a feast & presents on the 24th. This gives my kids a guilt-free "out" on Christmas day with their kids. Mom is done, no gifts at the Mammallamma's, stay home, veg all day, lounge, eat until you nap. You see the wisdom in this tradition I hope.
We started making gingerbread houses and cookies since the grandkids got big enough to participate too. You would think 3 pounds of sprinkles on 2 graham cracker sized cookies would stand out in a person's mind. You would think the 3 trips to the car to haul the booty out, a turkey coma, and 2 of the weirdest looking gingerbread houses ever created would create a little nudge of a memory.
No, he has actually called me to explain that "her" family all want to do Christmas on Christmas Eve. Dakota will be dropped off with my wonder doggies tomorrow morning. Dalton can not come at all. He and Deborah will be by some time on the 24th evening.
Of course being the dutiful grandmother I am, I will do all the party stuff and feast on the 23rd instead. Truth be told I don't care what day we open the presents but I had arranged for Xandra and the boys to be there on the 24th. Now we are scrambling to un-schedule everything. Why can't my son get it?
Other than that we are having a great Holiday and hope you are also!!

The countdown

On the 1st day of Christmas my crap luck gave to me
Brittany locked in the parking lot of UPS with Kale
On the 2nd day of Christmas my crap luck gave to me
Two bounced $800 checks and a trip to save Brittany
On the 3rd day of Christmas my crap luck gave to me
Steering column problems, Ripoff from the landlady, and Kale screaming in the car loudly.
On the 4th day of Christmas my crap luck gave to me
Four bank overdraft fees, Steering column problems, Landlord really sux, and the backseat ripped out to save Brittany.
On the 5th day of Christmas my crap luck gave to me
No food for you, $800 dollar debt, the transmission may be shot, Both checks cashed, and Kale smacked the door into another car hard enough to dent it.
On the 6th day of Christmas my crap luck gave to me
Another bouncing check, Still no food for you, $900 dollar debt, the whole frame quakes when we drive, Landlord won't give back the cash, and Kale peed in the front seat.
This was my week last week. I can not go on with the Christmas Cantata because I am weeping too badly
Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Christmas Shopping

Did you have a merry pre- Christmas sale? On Black Friday we traditionally decorate the trees and the house. So, every year I watch in shock and awe as people scramble to get the best deals ever on everything. You just have to be there at 4 am and then make it to 7 other stores by 6am for these once in a lifetime deals.
Why don't they do this on Christmas Eve when I am inevitably confronted with the random Christmas present problem?
You know how it goes; Some random person gives you a really thoughtful gift and you got them NADA. Now it is 4 am Christmas Eve and you have to be at work by 7am. You need a gift and you need it NOW. Of course there are no great sales on this day. The good stuff was snatched up just after Thanksgiving. What about us schmoes who forgot someone? What about all the men on the planet who wait till 30 minutes before Christmas to shop? This would be why Chia Pets were invented, so there would be something left to buy on Christmas Eve.
This year I resolved to do it correctly long before the day of dread. However, mistakes were made already. I forgot there is a guy at work who always buys all of us office people a gift. Every year. Last year he bought me Starbucks Cocoa. I love Starbucks Cocoa. He pays attention. Last year I bought him a sack full of fruit and bought the boss a bag of candy. Then I had them delivered by the bosses son. He got it backwards so I looked dumb. This year I did not buy him anything yet. He likes beer and skiing. I hate both, don't know anything about either, and can't ask or I'll look stupid. What to do?? I am afraid it is fruit again. He is always eating fruit, not much else. Plus he is the VP, so I feel sort of obligated to reciprocate the gift. What kind of human male doesn't eat candy?
Anyway back to the Christmas Sales. Who in their right mind waits for the month of December to buy stuff? I buy all year long for Christmas however there is one sale I always go to. The Schoolastic Warehouse sale. It is the Mecca. Like IKEA they basically have everything and all of it is 1/2 price or lower. I nearly cry every year when I go through the door. The book shelfs go up to the ceiling. It is like paper heaven. I got nearly every one of my 10 grandkids something this year. Even the older ones. (Can you say teen idol books?) Now for the problem, I let BD go alone. So now we have 1,000 books noone will ever read.
You just can NOT have every book in the place. Only take what you need.
And / Or can read in a life time.

Twilight the movie

OK SO IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN IT YET, DO NOT READ THIS!!!

There is always a little disappointment whenever a book I have read is made into a movie. I was even a little upset with the Lord of the Rings because they did not do the raising of the Shire. This movie was basically good, but not totally true to the book. That is just not possible in the time allotted for a flick. There were a lot of omissions and changes in the movie.

STOP NOW IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN TWILIGHT

Edward was so cute. The movie gives him a lot more personality than you got in the first book. I think the first book being all from Bella's perspective did that. Edward has a sense of humor in the movie and he is intense too.

Alice killing James was the coolest thing ever. I had read the books and all we got in the book was the sounds of the fight. I loved seeing Alice fight. Stephanie Meyer has a cameo and that was funny. Bella's dad is younger than I imagined but way cooler than in the books.

The fight scene was awesome and so were the running stunts. The part where Edward goes into the sun was superb visually. There were very funny parts and very sad parts. I think you can't possibly be aware of the scope of Bella & Edward's love unless you read all the books, but they did it justice.

Rosalie and Edwards dad were NOT pretty enough, but I wanted Jasper for my own boy toy. . . Badly. He really had a tortured, bad boy look.
Alice was close to perfect and so were most of the other characters. Billy Black was not old enough, but that is probably my fault for interpretation of what I read.

Visually stunning, very believable, too short, and not too true to the book.

Some people never use their blog to rant. They live in some other universe, not the same one as me.



The rest of us have problems, daily problems. Today seems like the grouch day. Everyone I have run into today is in a grouchy mood.

The 3 year old living at my house, aka the Troll, woke up whining. By 6:45am I wanted to drill a hole in my head and siphon out my brain. You can't hear without a brain right? There is a condemned crack house 2 doors down the block with the door kicked in and all the windows broken out. (I sometimes wonder who owns it). I think it would have been more peaceful this morning to live there then at my house.



Where we live you are lucky if you can dodge the bullets on the way from the carport to the house. Mostly no one comes to our house because they are scared to come into the neighborhood. No cute little manicured lawns and bushes around my house, we got weeds!! Lots of weeds in every yard as far as the block extends. Nobody bothers my car because it is the biggest POS on the block, and that is saying something in Montbello. Nobody runs out to meet you when you move in, and nobody sees most of the move outs because they happen at night, or with a sheriff.



But I digress, mostly this rant is about mornings. I am tired of them. In a more civilized world you would wake up to the sun gently warming your face. I wake up to a ranting Chochate Milt 3 year old. I usually can't even think at 5:30am and he can screech loudly. I also have to drive the previously mentioned POS to my job and that is like saying I walked on broken glass barefoot to the store and found out all the chochate milt was gone when I got there.



Work in the mornings is difficult also. You have 12 or so giant grizzly bears with 12 or so giant cranes and trucks trying to get to 12 or so jobs all over Denver. Complaining the whole time to me. One girl in an office of bears with bad morning dispositions, and they want it 10 minutes ago.



On the bright side, I usually wake up around 10 or so and figure out all their problems. Some of them have to solve their own problems if it is a "pre 10-ish" emergency.


Mornings should be soft, quiet, and above all serene. A cup of hot cocoa should magically appear on my dash board when I start the car, and a sausage mcmuffin should float to my desk at 8 or 9 am and wait patiently (& warmly) for me to be ready to eat it. There would be no noise allowed in my mornings, and I would have a better car to drive (basically anything without duct-tape or a bungee cord.


Reality: Loud obnoxious terrible rushing and screeching kids.

This Website is Designed by Tobi

I HEREBY BOW TO THE TOTALLY AWESOMENESS OF TOBI'S BLOG TECHNICALilLITY AND STUFF
If technicality was a sport she would win. If I touch this Blog Spot in any way except to post a blog, it blows up and she spends hours and hours repairing it for me.
I bow to her superior skills with the computer, phones, and Internet.
There is no one who I can rely on more for the resolution of my I T problems (many and varied though they be).
I would post pictures with this post of crazy computers crashing and the black and pink phones on fire, (it will happen, give me time) but I also don't know how to do that.
So here is the post for the technical support queen.... long may she type!!

Wisdom of the aged

For my birthday this year I decided to regress. I am now 50 years old. Congrats to me on being a half century old! Again! There is a little wisdom in being this old that needs to be passed on.
So, here it is. My top 10 list of things I have learned from being this blessed old.
# 1 There is no limit to the number of things that can go wrong with an old human body. There is actually a "downward slide scale". All old people seem to accept all this deterioration as normal!
# 2 Smile, everyone needs one now and then and it costs you nothing to give one away
# 3 You can tell a lot about a person by how they react to a traffic jam.
# 4 There is no suckage like teen-age suckage
# 5 Never, I repeat, never let your butt get above your head after 40. It's not a pretty sight. It could be harmful. Above all stay off the trampoline.
# 6 Where you live is not half as important as how you live.
# 7 There is a sub-structure below Hell, they call it a p.m.s., below that is pregnancy, in the vast bottomless pit is MENOPAUSE
# 8 Children are like chocolate: Best when you first get them, messy, fattening, and you will miss them when they're gone
# 9 Let the oven warm up, the water come to a complete boil, and the kids make mistakes. Be patient and forgive. This is good for YOU.
# 10 Love, a good relationship with God, family, chocolate, and a place to call home. This is all you really need.

For Halloween I was a gay crane operator. I had a huge butt and leopard t-back underwear on it. I had a very hairy chest and armpit hair. Britt and the kids helped by dragging my shirt through the garden. I love it.
Every day one of these 6"5" guys I work with comes in and whines about something. But yesterday they took up a collection and repairs were made to my 1992 car and paid for by them.
You can't get any better than that.
Happy Halloween

baby got crack

I work with these guys

neurological sub atomic warfare

Kale has declared war on my spine. It starts the second he wakes up. A sonic resonance designed to affect my nervous system like spikes driven slowly under the nail beds on all my fingers and toes at once. I could be more specific on the nature of the pain induced by the sounds he makes if I were capable of rational thought or speech during one of his fits. All I can think is "Please, make it stop".


There is no rationalizing with a 3 year old. He wakes up pissed off, or in pain, or in need of something, and he begins to make a noise like all the cats and dogs chained to hells gates have been presented with an ambulance, a fire truck, and intruders to chase.


I can NOT think, or breathe, or move fast enough to satisfy whatever monster inside this child creates the need to make this noise. And it is not just me either, his brother quiets, & his mother and I scramble to do his will immediately.


All the Chochate Nilt sippy cups on the planet align and form a perfect eclipse of happy Chochate Nilt rainbows and sippy cup fountains, and still that noise continues.


I strip the beds in the house and place all the pillows and blankets at the feet of the beast. Remove any and every potentially offensive object from his area, remote control every big screen and surround sound in the place until it is playing his favorite Sponge Bob episode, quiet every other noise in the house, and snap on every light ever created by man all at the speed of Sonic the Hedgehog on "super fast" so that the time I am tortured will be shorter, and still he makes that noise. Toys appear as if teleported by magic to make his royal highness stop, still it goes on. I have run down to his bedroom to find a plastic weed whacker and goggles in his bed because I believed that he would quit if he just had those toys back.

Luckily for me he only does it about 3 times a day. Most of the fits could be stopped if I could figure out how to intimidate him into being more scared of me than Goosebumps, or whatever he is shrill about at the moment.

Phoenix and he have been taking turns making that noise all weekend.

What good is 2 days off of work if you don't get to rest or recreate during them? Kale keeps me prisoner every morning with that noise so he won't have to walk in the cold to take Phoenix to school


Meanwhile his noise is doing permanent damage to my neurological system. When the torture is over I find myself laying down to attempt to recover. My limbs shake and my vision blurs with the tears of relief. By the time it is over, I am ready to sell him to passing gypsies.

Then he comes over and kisses me and tells me he loves me. I'm always scared during these times. The noise could come out if he perceives some wrong or problem in the universe he must shrilly lament.

You will be able to tell the doctors with absolute certainty what happened to me now at least.

What Halloween is all about

Scary things come in many sizes, shapes, and colors. I have compiled a list of the things we have done on this holiday which scared me the most, and all of them seem to center around children. Basically the scariest moments of my life have been my own fault because I looked away, lost concentration, believed in the goodness of the child, or just plain screwed up. Constant vigilance could have saved me many harrowing scares and screaming. Most of the time we are scared enough at Halloween by the costumes and movies to pay attention to weird and dangerous things. The normal things are much more dangerous.
Below are dire warnings which will keep you safe from ghoul's and gross consequences at Halloween.

So here it is my official NEVER DO on Halloween list:
#1 Never go anywhere in a car with children for longer than 2 hours.
cross country + kids + unlimited sugar - mobility = disaster
#2 Never let yourself be talked into the costume a pre-teenager wants.
11 year old + skimpy outfit + outdoors + boys = bigger disaster
#3 There truly is NO SUCH thing as a fool-proof contraceptive. (that one scared ya didn't it?)
#4 Never put me or Tobi in charge of which direction you go in any vehicle, no matter where or when.
Mom + one car + no clue where we are = lost half the night (see #1)
#5 There is not a limit on the # of pounds of icing and decorations any child can pile on pumpkin sugar cookies, do not try to compete with them at it, I have pictures.
kids + unlimited icing of varying colors + 5,000,000 sprinkles = hours of cleaning for mom
#6 You can keep trick or treating forever if you let the kids decide.
1 pillow case + Joshua + his best friend = 11:30pm & mom searching for them in the car (lost again)
#7 Never let a baby hold anything you think he or she can not swallow or hurt him or herself with or fit into his or her nose.
Tobi + beads + nose = emergency room visit
#8 Never leave the car, house, bathroom, (whatever) alone with a sugared up child for "just a second". Believe me it would be easier to just pack it all up and take it with you than clean it up or explain it to the police /doctor later.
see # 7
#9 Do not run through the house in the dark with a smoke machine on.
See #7 again
#10 Never move just before Halloween. Just put in a change of address and let the mail try to find you again. If you are crazed enough to want to move just box up everything in your house. Do not label any of the boxes with whats in them, just number them. Put all the boxes with an even number on them out on the curb and let the trick or treat-ers take them away forever. Now unpack the rest. Same results as moving, no truck involved.
moving + strangers in and out of the house all night = half your stuff gone

To my dummy of a son who forgot Phoenix's birthday, again.

A son a son a dummy for a son
It's bad enough you huff and puff to make a kingdom run.
Why should I be forced to satisfy a witless, wonder, dunder, blunder, dummy of a son?
So come someone and take away my son. My enemies attach and tease until the kingdom's done.
But worse, I curse, the wretched universe that brought a witless, dunder, blunder, dummy of a son.
My son, my son, you're stupid as they come. I taught you all that I recall, so how come you're so dumb?
I cry good-bye, I'll probably go and hide. But always here behind my rear I see my stupid son.

Phoenix is turning 6!!

So the S P E W was not well received. I should have known better.
Sunday is Phoenix's birthday. So far we have planned squat. I guess it is time to start. I bought him a video game last week and he is going to play Indiana Jones and the whatever all weekend but first we must endure Chuck E Cheese or some such horrible spot for a few hours. OK so I did not go buy the game myself, but I paid for it. Last night Kale spilled the beans on the "Jin Jan Jones Yego game". Therefore, I goofed.
I really hate to do it but I guess we need to buy a cake too. Yes, Virginia there is a bakery at Albertsons. I'm too old and have 2 jobs; Therefore we buy cake. The baking of the cakes is officially over.
Xandra has put in her request early this year for a pair of thigh high converse boots at the mall. $70.00. If you ask me, we got off easy. Phoenix's game cost $50.00 and the trip to Chucky will be another $50.00 easy. Xandra will eat strawberry shortcake, tomato's, and chicken salad all weekend at home for her birthday. She doesn't like birthday cake and unless I have to buy her a movie and nacho's, we should be done. Pray another Cheetah girls or Bratz movie does NOT come out in the next 2 months.
Anyway, Happy EARAAALY Birthday Phoenix. Many many many more too!!

a few things to spew

What can I say?
every once in a while I sneak over to a certain persons blog attached to my daughters blog and read some of the stuff there.
I'm always hoping to read something regarding any one of the 4 children or the 10 grand kids we have genetically in common.
Instead I get rambling about his life and how wonderful it is to para sail
or whatever it is called.
People reading his blog must think "Wow how interesting this guy's life is" but all I can say is "Wow, how self centered can one man be"?
Nothing in his writings about all the brilliant accomplishments of these kids/grand kids? Nothing about the births of his present wife's grand kids?
Nothing about how Phoenix goes to a school for gifted children, about how Xandra's temperament is just about the best on the planet? No comments for the accomplishments of Alex, or the cuteness of Cora? What in the world are we here for if not to revel and delight in the miracle of life??
10 Grand kids: Amberlee 17, Dakota 12, Xandra 9, Ian 6, Phoenix 5, Alec 5, Dalton 5, Kale 3, Cora 3, Justin 2.
Know it, Learn it, Love it. Life just doesn't get any more interesting than listening to the "potty tales" of Justin or the Jedi fixation of Ian.
There is no subject upon which I can ramble for hours and hours like the wonderfulness of these ten kids.
No accomplishment, entertainment, riches, life altering fun, or thrill seeking moment can make up for the fact that you don’t know squat about your own offspring, or their offspring.
Nothing you have now will go anywhere with you when you face your old age alone. Nothing you have done will attend your funeral and cry, no one will care.
So yes, I am obsessed with my grandchildren and their trivial little triumphs. Yes, I love them more than myself and always want to see and talk to them. I believe they are worth more than all the fun and riches in the world.
I hereby proclaim for all to read: kids and grand kids, you are the very most important thing to me and you always will be.

The room of Pink EMU

We are well under way now with Xandra's room. She wants pink and black with skulls and crossbones. I also threw in animal prints because she loves animals. We have everything done except the tulle hangings over the bed, painting the walls, making the bedspread, painting the tv stand, and the ceiling fan. I have black and pink tulle on a frame to hang from the ceiling above her bed. The curtains are posing a small problem as I am painting the room black with great splotches of pink all over the walls. The room will be incredibly dark if I do this so we will need super bright curtains in the room. Also, I can NOT find pink fabric with black skulls to make the bedspread from. I am considering just buying this pink faux fur stuff (which happens to be on sale) and stamping on my own black skulls. The tv cabinet is going to be just vertical stripes (black and pink). The ceiling fan is white with faeries on it now so I'm just painting the area where the faerie is not on each blade black. Because you have been sooooooooooooo patient with my stone aged techno skills for so long...here are some pix:::

ode to tobi

This blog is for my darling daughter Tobi. Thank you dear for all the blog comments and the ever-entertaining blogs you post.

Almost everything you post on your site is wonderful to me. You have always been such fun and a really great daughter. (I could have lived without the teen-age years, but you do seem so much more wonderful now that I wonder if that is part of the Divine plan).

Reading what is going on in your life (on the Internet) is always fun. Even when it is not all that good you keep a good outlook. I am proud of you for being able to cope with life and look on the bright side. It is a very lucky mother indeed who has a kid that will actually leave a comment on her blog spot.
Thank you also for the IT support. If I had to do this on my own, I would be chiseling it out on a stone tablet. You are great!!

Dirty Laundry

The life I have chosen to lead is a (fairly) normal, honest one. The family comes first. Mainly the kids and grand kids. Then the church, then the mundane like work, bills, food, etc... However, everyone has their habits. Dirty little guilty pleasures that we believe if the world knew about, they would not like us as much as they do. Fearing being judged, we hide these things and pretend like no one else on the earth knows about or has ever done them. The belief that you are the only one guilty of this (whatever ) is crazy. Everyone has done something wrong or bad. Otherwise they would float off the planet.


My grand and very public confession is not forthcoming. I guess I am about the most boring human on the planet but the worst I could come up with is swearing and being selfish.


Both are not especially hard to detect, my room is set up like a permanent residence in and of itself. TV, Stereo, DVD player, VCR, Hundreds of my favorite shows to watch, Cable, etc... And I swear out loud when I do it.

Because my room is comfortable, that means I like to be in that room a lot. I want to lounge in my own section doing what I like best, does this mean I should feel guilty about it when I do?

I work 2 jobs, baby sit the grand kids, clean, cook (or buy it ), and pay the bills. I never steal on purpose (pens gravitate into my purse from everywhere). I am not out to take over the world or force anyone to do what I want them to. Never held anyone hostage, unless you count teenagers who wanted to stay out all night, and never killed anyone or anything for pleasure. I have very little interaction with the out-of-doors because I hate bugs and the sun makes me hot. But all this makes me selfish without hurting anyone else.

Everyone does something selfish or "wrong" now and then. I have made a lifestyle of selfish while avoiding the majority of "wrong". Compared to some people that is a big deal. Compared to others, not so big a deal.

So, who is worse? The people out there stealing, cheating, robbing, killing, or whatever? Or me sitting in my room with a good movie?

To me the answer is that this life is a journey of discovery of self. What will we do when we think no one is looking? I won't rob a bank or an old lady or steal from WalMart no matter who is looking. Is that because I fear reprisals though? If you knew you could get away Scott free from it, would you take something that is not yours? If there were no victim involved? Would you take advantage of a rich man? Is it his fault you have less?

Where we draw the line in our discovery of self is part of this journey. How honest is honest? How good is good? Most especially when you know it is wrong or bad and you really feel it, will you do it anyway if the circumstances are right?

Wherever you draw the line, try to draw a line you can live with. And I will try to expand my line and be less selfish with my time.

Chocolate

Nothing on the earth was ever created which is so creamy, versatile, desirable, or satisfying as chocolate. It can be made into drinks, cakes, cookies, pies, breads, and candy. Though I have not tried it yet they say it comes in a (corn) chip now too.
Chocolate calms the mind and soothes the soul. No PMS anywhere can defeat it's effect completely. It makes most of the problems in life seem just a little less irritating. When I eat a really good chocolate I am transported to my special place where it's quiet and all is right with the world.
Love is a fleeting thing on earth. Men may or may not be there tomorrow. Youth and beauty are illusions which fade. Your weight changes, lines appear on your skin, everything on your body heads south. Health is a gift which can be taken away with a single germ or genetic flaw. But as long as trees grow, there will be some lovely man somewhere with a spoon making me a nosh. And.. as long as I draw breath, I'll eat chocolate.
So, Tobi doesn't like Meercats, Brittany wants to listen to icky music, and Sarah doesn't like the color pink. Everyone likes chocolate. Everyone who counts to me anyway.

The back of the brown shorts

The back of the pink shorts

This is my favorite

Ha I figured it out

Xandra is back!!!

Yay!! Xandra is back. We are going to pick her up tomorrow!! I bought her a couple of outfits for school and here they are..maybe if I can attach them.
Ha and double Ha!! I did it. Not well, but done.

School is in Hurrah Hurrah!!

Today school started. Yay!!! The first thing I'm going to do is throw a back-to-school party. Just me and my pillow, well maybe the cat too. No kids, no incessant requests for food and drink, no complaints of being bored, no Wii, no playstation games, ahhhhhhhh. Nobody in my house will be allowed to watch anything with Spongebob's name in the title for several hours. There will be no "Chochat milt". And above all NO ONE is going to break wind and tell me how cool it sounded. (Can you tell we have 2 boys living with us?)
These are the moments I live for. If I could, I would throw rose petals at the bus wheels. Let the solitude begin.

Before it is gone

Today is the first day of the rest of your life. That sentence has always bugged me until today.
Sometimes we think our lives are full of cruel and unusual punishments. Sometimes I have felt I was dealt a less-than-fair hand in life.
I have a co-worker who was hit by a car 2 months ago. He has not even made it into a wheel chair yet. Today he told my boss that he is losing his house and everything else he owns. His motorcycle insurance had $25,000 on it for medical. The person who hit him had $25,000 for medical. His medical bills so far are $700,000+. He is still in the hospital and has a staph infection in one of his surgery sites. How can this be happening? This guy did nothing wrong. He got hit by someone who ran the light. And not some monster either, just a guy who did not see Terry in the sunset on his motorcycle and ran him over.
It has made me feel extremely grateful for all my blessings.
Yes, we are poor. Yes, I drive a P.O.S. Yes, we live in a terrible neighborhood. But we have many blessings and can still enjoy life. I have 2 jobs and am able to work them. My children and grandchildren are fed. We have a home.
Sometimes we forget to be thankful for our lives and the things we have.
My income to expense ratio is terrible. I look at poor Terry and think, "Wow, it could be a lot worse."
Be thankful for everything you have and everything you don't have . . . before it is gone.

COMMENTS ON LIFE

Yesterday Sarah announced she is not coming to visit me after all. Why would anyone NOT want to come to colorful Colorado? So I don't have A.C., and I live in the demilitarized zone, and there was a knifing 2 doors down 2 days ago, and we all have no money to do anything fun; What's wrong with that? Who doesn't want to listen to the sound of the tuba, a cow bell, and an accordion over a really bad amp all night? Who doesn't want to swelter in 100+ degrees with a box fan? Then there is the neighbors! Ha Ha
But seriously, why fight the pull of the ultimate vacation?
I've personally never been on a real vacation. You know, one where you do nothing but sight see and lounge. Well maybe that is not true, maybe going to visit the relatives counts? No, that is more like a working road trip. 4 kids, one huge dog, a Toyota, and a cooler across 5 states: NOW THAT IS FUN!! (and probably how I became incurably insane)
Actually there is an element of fun to it but I never got to the fun part since I was driving. At least you get your own seat if you drive. Now a days kids have t.v. and Ipods and video games in the car. Back in the day when my kids were small, I would have killed for that kind of entertainment in the car. I got sing a longs and "are we there yet".
Who wants to see the damn relatives bad enough for that?

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!!!

Tomorrow is the 4th of July. Whoop De Doo. Being American all my life and very patriotic doesn't mean I get into the whole fireworks thing. Colorado (and most states) have a huge ban on fireworks. So either you pay to go see the "legal" fireworks or you do a lame sit on the roof and cheat thing. When I was a child you went down to the local fireworks stand and for less than $5.00 you could play with fire all night. Then I had kids. If there is ANY way for 4 kids to get hurt mine could find it. Now what on earth would make me think that I could turn them loose in our back yard with matches and a stick that sparks? I kept urging the 6 year old to grow up before next 4th of July and learn to light a match correctly. Every year someone got hurt. It became the 4th of July curse to spend at least half the night in the E.R. This year, like every year since I turned my last child free I will be watching tv.... alone.... fire free... not in any hospital.... with no matches, lighters, or punks.

time flies

Was it only 5 years ago I was waiting in Utah for my grandson to be born? I remember counting to 10 over and over while Tobi pushed. I kept rushing the count because she had to hold her breath and I did not want her to over-do it. Then Joel took over, he was too slow on the count and somebody screeched at him to hurry that count. I should not have been so worried about her, but my baby was giving birth to a baby. Happy 5 Alec.
These grandkids have a way of getting under your skin. He was blue and floppy. I never saw a cuter baby boy. When you see them you think, "Oh boy are they in trouble now." or "She thought pregnancy was miserable, this is where the real misery starts." But then you notice how this one smiles like his dad, or that one has a temper like her mom and it hits you with the whole circle-of-life thing. These children of your children are a part of you and whether you want to or not, you fall in love with the little critters.
Today especially, I remember what it was like when Alec's life started. How fragile and small Alec seemed to me, even though he was larger than any of mine were at birth. How I was mad at Joel for weeks and weeks afterward for putting my baby through that. How Joel looked at his son like he was a treasure. And he is.

Air or green?

Whatever happened to good old air conditioning? Now we have to be "green" and go without or suffer the wrath of the earth. I have a clue for all you greenies: There are those of us who have never had a/c in the house or car or anywhere except at work. The boss at my work keeps the thermostat on the mid to high 70's all the time. He is expense conscious, not green.

The bug population at my home runs, flies, or slithers outside for cooler temperatures. The animals on the block all run past the sauna I call home with no shady trees around it. Visitors always suggest we go somewhere else and cool off. Sensible occupants go downstairs or on the patio.

I figure if I ever reach the level of income that I can afford a swamp cooler or (a slight shiver here) central air, I'll be a little old lady who is cold all the time and doesn't want it on. "Cut the thing off Brittany, I am too cold!!"

We have planted mint and several small shrubs in our rental home yard. If I own a house (ever) there will be large shady trees every place they can possibly go to block the evil sun. Shrubs or fences will guard my property from roving stray dogs and children. Big lilac bushes will send scented air wafting into my lovely open windows and keep all those crazed granny peepers away from my lovely silhouette. Also, I will have a swamp cooler or central air conditioning. I'm old, I deserve not to sweat. Anyway who wants to see a little old sweaty lady? NOBODY Not even me.

Messed up mess

Did you ever have one of those days when everything that could go wrong, already went wrong yesterday? Yea, I'm on a rant again. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Now the insurance company which has been dinking me around for over a year on the 31st of this month has been changed by the union to a new company. I almost lost it when the bosses handed me the envelope for the change. Then I thought "Well, maybe this will be easier with this insurance company." WRONG O. This insurance company has a no pay policy. So they don't allow bariatric surgery at all. Now I have to go back on to the first insurance while I fight them to do the surgery.
Maybe people who go postal have this kind of luck or something?? Luckily, I can only go up from here. There is no more down left.

me in the mornings

I finally found a picture of me I am willing to share.

Ah.. The natural woman. Why do men wake up looking exactly like they did when they went to sleep? Women have to work on a look worthy of the world. Damn the world, this is me, as I truly am. I have come out at last!!

Really though don't you think I look like a cross between an ompa loompa and spocks mother on crack?

Childish revenge

It occurred to me last night that by today's standards, I had abused my children horribly when they were young. I made them eat salads prepared on the same wooden cutting board which I had cut up the meat on. I let them crawl on the floors and outside on the ground and never once applied hand sanitizer when they were done. In fact we did not have antibiotic-al soap of any kind anywhere in our house. They cut their teeth on my car keys and though I never did set my purse down on the bathroom floor at the store and then on our kitchen counter, I did set them down on the bathroom stall floor. In my defense: you try to answer natures call with a baby, a toddler, a preschooler, and an angry 10 year old. There were NO baby seats or changing tables in the 1980's. I felt lucky to find a handicapped stall so we would all fit.
Looking back now this may have been the reason my children developed the retaliatory system that has been employed by millions of children ever since. There was some sort of adult proof alarm installed on all bathroom and bedroom doors in my house. I could not hear it, but it is the only answer to how they KNEW.
I would look over the situation in the tv room and think to myself "Ah... The children have been subdued by the Disney movie on the tv. I can retire to the bathroom now."
3 seconds after the bathroom door closed, an alarm not unlike a fire truck klaxon would go off, the tv screen would change to a flashing red light, and a voice would issue from the walls making a "toilet zone" alert announcement which I imagine sounded something like this: "All children get up, go make messes, your mother is in the bathroom. Can't you see that there are possible poisonous combinations available in the kitchen? The lotion is only 36" off the floor on the shelf. Quick, get that drooling sister of yours out of baby jail and point her at the nearest electrical outlet. You there, older child, why are all 3 of your sisters staring blankly at the tv? Do you want them to be happy for this long? Hurry, hit one of them or take her toy away. You, young child with the complete mobility and entertainment unit wrapped around you, can't you get out of that yet? OK then roll it over to that spindly table with the glass stuff on it and ram it. You have between 3 and 15 minutes to destroy this place. MOVE IT".
5 minutes later I would open the door to complete devastation. The baby would be standing up holding onto the lamp cord with her nice drool covered hands. The 2 year old hanging half in and half out of the walker under the table where everything which was on it has fallen is screaming like a banshee. The four year old is trying to get to the lotion bottle with all the cans, pots, pans, and knives from the kitchen she created a ladder out of. Meanwhile the oldest one is using one of the smaller one's dolls to stir whatever horrible concoction he has created in the koolaid pitcher.
About 3 or four years into this drill, I figured out there must be some sort of electronic device I could not see or hear at work since this sequence of events had been repeated with varying degrees of devastation each and every time I left the area where the children were. Later in life they learned to create wide-spread havoc by going to the old create a diversion and let one of the others go do the damage routine.
Now I live for the moment when one of my kids calls and tells me of the latest atomic bomb dropped into their livingroom by the little darlings. It seems when you get older, you can not hear the klaxon anymore but your kids can. Behind those angelic looks and too cute antics are demonic little destroyers just waiting for you to relax your guard. All is right in the universe!
Clean your houses little bunrammits, the children are plotting!!

Frustration

Why is it that nothing ever is as easy as it seems? And why is it that if it seems too easy, it was? Nothing ever happens really fast that is worth having happen, yet I find myself extremely frustrated with waiting and having to figure out stuff through trial and error (and error.. and error). I am trying to have a bypass surgery. I have been trying for over a year. If I went into the completely long boring story it would probably put you to sleep. Let's go to the super quick version: Went to a doctor. Doctor said "Hey did you want better health? Go to this surgeon and get a bypass. Your diabetes will go away". Went to surgeon. Surgeon said "OK". Insurance company said "OK". 3 days before surgery was scheduled, insurance company said "opps, my bad. I meant no". Went through 6 months of bull sugar weight loss doctor bull sugar. Of course the insurance company would not pay for this either. Found out original surgeon stopped doing bypass while I was fulfilling the requirements of the insurance company. Found new surgeon. New surgeon said "OK". Insurance said "NO. We don't allow you to have that surgery at that hospital with that doctor now". Does anyone else have this quality of bad luck?
I feel like my world was set up for someone else right now. There simply is NO way this was made for me.
The resolution:
There are little stickers in my back yard called Goats Heads. These little stickers are my heros today. I have decided to become like the goats heads. I am going to stick into the Cigna peoples feet, legs, butts, and any other anatomical parts I can and hurt like only a sticker can until these people do what I want them to.
E fricken nough! I want the dratted surgery. I have jumped through all your stupid hoops. (and I might add looked pretty silly doing so) I want the darn surgery NOW>

Reading

Lately I have been reading my 3 daughters blogs. I love to hear what's on their minds, even if I don't agree or approve. The children I gave life to are the center of my world here on earth. Yes, I believe there is another world to go to. Hopefully Opera and turnips will be outlawed in my little corner of that world. Not so much by marshall law, but just the "restricted in this area" kind of rule. But I digress... on to the reading. You can tell a lot about a person by what they read. There are levels to my reading.
Level one is total entertainment. You know, keep it light and fun, nothing serious, just fiction.
Level two is educational. This is a very small part of my reading and usually only happens when I HAVE to know something. You know, like what is diabetes?
Level three is necessary. The Scriptures. I do want that spot in Heaven some day. Want to know about your Heavenly Father? Read his book!
In order to be better entertained, educated, or elevated I read.

you can't fail if you don't try.. and other reverse wit

Tobi my blogger daughter who has mastered the art of blog fu, myspace fu, decorate your space doe, and the manly art of email has asked me to put a picture of myself on this blog spot. One small problem, I can't find a picture of me. Truth be told I don't want one either and would never save any pix of myself unless one of my 10 grandkids was captured in the same frame doing something priceless. I just don't have one, so I leave you with these words of comfort.......
Ancient Chinese secret: There is no photo in the small black box? Grasshopper, no one can give you that which you desire if they do not have it?
You can teach an old woman to blog, but you can't make her face appear on line without cooperation of a digital camera?

FINALLY

Today, FINALLY the nurse/scheduler at my bariatric surgeon answered her phone and told me she submitted my file to my insurance company for approval. This makes the total process just under 1 year to start. I went to a bariatric surgeon at my doctors recomendation on May 31, 2007 for the first visit. They submitted all my info to my insurance. It was accepted. 3 days before my surgery was scheduled, the insurance company rejected it all. (opps, our bad ?$^*@) I had to go to a weight control class for 6 months and pay for it myself, so I did. When I went back to my bariatric surgeon, guess what?? He doesn't do this surgery anymore. So he recomended another surgeon. It took me 3 weeks to get in. Then it has taken the nurse/scheduler 5 weeks to type up my notes and submit it to my insurance company. I would say this is reasonable, but they are in the same physicians group. Today she told me that she doesn't know how much time it will take the insurance to reply, but they haven't rejected any of my stuff.
What does a woman have to do to get rid of diabetes? Evidently, you gotta jump through a LOT of hoops. If you are considering this surgery know this... it ain't easy, it ain't quick, and it ain't simple. I have been to nutritionists, weight doctors, psychiatrists, surgeons, counselors, and meetings, meetings, meetings. Most of this was on my dime. Everyone wants a slice of the pie. All I want is to feel better. I don't even qualify on the basis of weight. Only on my "co-morbid" complications. Maybe this is the only answer for those of us who can not lose enough weight to be healthy or maybe the only way to feel better is to be beaten this low with all this crap in the first place? By the time I get the surgery I'll feel grateful for the pain?
There is a bright side to this though, the end of the 15+ pills a day I take. The medicine alone is killing me in copays. Hopefully soon I will be able to post a blog which says I am not having to take all this medicine every day.

The wonder of Tobi's blogspot

If you want to see Beautiful, go see Tobi's new blogspot. The flower is gorgeous!! And... so is my little cowbong grandson. Ok, I am predisposed to love all pix of grandkids. But seriously, you never appreciate kids as much when you are a parent as you WILL as a grandparent. The sweetest sound on the planet that I know of so far in life is the teakettle like scream of the grandkids over the phone as their parents struggle to give them whatever they are screaming for and answer my banal questions. It is sweet because I am past all that and able to appreciate the quite healthy lungs on that child. And it is sweet because at moments like that I KNOW there is a mothers curse, and it works!!

Ok, I am slow

So last night all excited I told Tobi I had a blog spot now and she tried to get me to tell her the address. Opps, I forgot it. Luckily the computer remembered it and as you can see she helped me pimp the bunrammit spot. Now I have leaped into the new year and actually put it on my favorites!!

Bunrammits

Ok, even though I am not exceptional because nobody invited me to have a blog spot... Pity party there for a sec. I wanted to have a blog spot to leave stuff of interest to only those who can call themselves my bunrammitts. A VERY long time ago my children discovered a movie called "the bunny's picnic" done by the muppet master himself. The daddy rabbit calls his kids bunrammits. Ever since then, all my kids have been "my little bunrammit" (s). I still treasure this movie, and Emmet Otter's Jug Band Christmas. When watching either movie I think of my kids and the wonder of all their lives when they were small. Ok, everyone go out and get a copy of these movies now. Also, Sarah, I need a copy of Convincing John from Fraggle Rock.