Cold Be Damned, I Think I See A Blade Of Grass

Oh Readers, I feel like shit. I think I may have finally gotten my dose of flu/cold for the season. I don't know why, maybe my kids brought it home, maybe my body just finally let down it's defenses, or perhaps it was all the romping around in the 30ish degree weather during the Brooklyn Street Winter-Fest this weekend. I have to say though, if it has anything to do with the Winter-Fest, I'll take my punishment because that was just plain good for my mental state of mind. That damn January thaw waited until February and I was about to become a side show with all the different personalities I'd created during my month & a half as a shut-in. I see nothing wrong with celebrating the first sign of a thaw in weeks, who cares about some chills, fever, cough, sore throat, aches, pains and whatever else I may end up with. All worth it because I got to have pork shoulder & a S'more over a bonfire on Saturday night. Added bonus, I feel completely sane again....and that's not just the cold medicine talking. Oh...hacking coughs....too weak to carry on...

PS. Quick note to China and V, who puts the V in VD, my sanity thanks you eternally, probably my family too, for the developing and hosting of the Winter-Fest. I'm bound and determined to believe it was the kick off to spring, I will ignore all snowflakes from this point forward.

New Motto: Avoid The Humorless Like The Plague

I just don't understand it. There are a few people that I've come across here, in the great Dutch home away from the homeland that is Grand Rapids, that don't appear to have any discernible sense of humor. It's been my misfortune to find these ill-fated individuals amongst the antiques dealers, the school employees, and even my acquaintances around the city. This does not impress me. The worst of it is they make me question my own sense of humor. Because they don't understand sarcasm or irony, I wonder if it's me, if I'm simply being obtuse. Sometimes, I'm perhaps too ambiguous with my snappy sarcasm and witty remarks. Well readers, let me assure you, it's not me. Oh no.

I used to get rather embarrassed when I would say something funny, laugh, and they didn't join me. Perhaps I offended? Now, I realize, I shouldn't be embarrassed, they didn't catch on that a joke even was in their presence. They don't realize anything has happened at all as a matter of fact, and they're certainly not going to go around telling people I told a bad joke because they wouldn't know one if it smacked 'em on the ass. I have never in my life had more awkward, stilted, conversations than I have with a truly, humor-less person. I don't recommend it, if it can be avoided. I've been known to literally run the other way to avoid it, this, I do recommend.

Anyway Readers, it's not just the lack of a sense of humor I don't understand, which admittedly is unfathomable, it's that they are alive at all. Humorless = suicide watch. Let's not forget we live in Michigan. Michigan without a sense of humor....Really? Michigan? It's bad enough with the snow and cold, then you have the yearly percentage of sunlight, which is some piddly number of like 18%. Now to top it all off is the highest percentage of unemployed, highest percentage of people moving to other states, in the top 5 of home foreclosures, top 5 highest gasoline prices....you get the picture. You've got to have a sense of humor to live here, otherwise you better flush the prescription meds and start letting the legs and under-arms go au naturel.

Seriously, You Can't Be Serious

My husband has sleep apnea. He stops breathing frequently while he sleeps. He now has a sleep machine because I insisted he go to the doctor because I was afraid it would be the death of him. Mostly because I would spend my nights slapping, elbowing, and punching him in order to make him breath again. The sleep machine is interesting, it shoots out a constant stream of oxygen through these tubes into a little mask that goes over his nose all the way down over his mouth. My BFF and I call it the Darth Vader mask, though really, because of all the tubes I would say it's more of the Tie Fighter mask. You know, the bad guys in Star Wars that flew around the little ships with octagonal wings and had these masks and all the tubes on them...oh forget it. Anyway, it's definitely like Darth in the fact that there is the noise of the oxygen going through it, which really isn't loud, and then when he talks, it's very muffled, very, well, James Earl Jones. Anyhu, it's all very necessary, very life-saving, very un-sexy.

I think my husband needs to be very clear on a couple of things when he is wearing the mask.

Number one, I have no illicit fantasties of Darth Vader so don't start rubbing my leg while wearing it, I just can't take you seriously. Don't even get me started on the fact that you look like and ICU patient and all those tubes are hooked to a machine on the bedside table which doesn't exactly make you mobile. Secondly, if you turn to face me wearing the machine, expect me to turn as well, with my back to you. Most obvious reason is, again, because I can't take you seriously. Beyond that though, the amazing, wonderful, life-saving machine blows freezing cold air all over my face. Now, I could be completely alone in this, but I certainly don't have any lewd fantasies of Darth Vader, while having freezing cold air blowing in my face with such force that it gags me and I literally can't take a single breath. That's. Not. Hot. At all.

Suffering Through With Chocolate

For godsakes, I had to work with the dreaded worm mush, brown sugar again yesterday. I don't just pack it in the cup, I pound it like I'm killing it because I really wonder if it is in fact alive. Don't think I don't check for real worms every single time I open that bag. Anyhu, my point in this is that I made homemade chocolate chip cookies yesterday and they were probably the best ones I've ever made, so it was nearly worth working with the detestable brown sugar. I ate like 20....but I don't know if that really counts because only like 4 of them were actual cooked cookies. I'll just have to suffer through making and eating baked goods for the next couple months, whatever it takes to maintain this fat layer. What else can be done, surely I'll freeze if I don't, the high for the day was like 6, and it's so typical, I'm just used to it now. Please, any of you out of staters, don't think I'm joking....hand to God....6.

A Spot Of WHAT?

Oh my aching ass. I have been doing squats and lunges galore for 2 1/2 weeks now. If I'm brushing my teeth, I'm doing squats. If I'm talking on the phone, I'm doing lunges. If I'm watching tv, I'm doing squats and lunges. All because I think I saw a spot of cellulite on my upper left thigh. I was quite disturbed and rushed out of the bathroom to run up and down the stairs 3 times. It was still there when I came back, so now the constant squat/lunge. If you drove by my house when I'm fixing supper, you'd probably see me through the window, cooking at the stove, doing a set of squats. My husband, he doesn't think I have a spot of cellulite, he says I look awesome. I informed him that he needs to actually look at my thigh when he says that, not my ass. Also, I informed him that I feel very distraught by the whole incident and just because he says I look good, I know in fact it's there, and so compliments do not increase his chances of having sex especially when I know they are in fact lies. I will and I must firm up these thighs, I don't want to end up looking like Tara Reid on the cover of the Enquirer....oh horrors.

Keeping Up With The Dramatics

I love this word that my kids have made up (in the spirit of our former president they make up many non-words), it's "dramatical". They love to be dramatical, or to emphasize how the other one is just acting so dramatical in certain tense instances. They love that their grandma teaches people to be more dramatical in her drama classes. Truly, they just don't feel there is enough drama in their world.

I have friends and relatives, even just people I used to know from my town, who fit this word. There is always some type of drama just waiting in the wings for them. I don't know how drama can almost come to life and pick certain people to just hover over. Sometimes I have some drama, we all do I'm sure, but it's nothing compared to these people. I wouldn't say I'm jealous because much of the drama I wouldn't want happening to me, but I do often wonder if I'm missing out on something in my life, is my life just not exciting enough? The thing is, these friends with the lives full of drama, you can't wait to hear all about their lives and what is going on now. I have many minus-the-drama friends, they are great to have conversations with, talk about common interests, kids, humorous stories etc. These dramatical people though, you want to know everything that has happened to them recently because somehow it's unbelieveable that so many exciting, scary, hilarious, disgusting, ridiculous, and sometimes just plain god-awful things can happen to one person. These are the people that you want to have them talk about themselves non-stop, because no other story they have can be as interesting as their own life. Let's do a "for example": This man I used to work with okayed a cell tower to be put on his land, which led to his house being struck by lightning via the tower, which led to it nearly burning down, which led to him living in a repurposed hurricane Katrina trailer, which led to him being unknowingly bitten by a Brown Recluse spider, which led him to nearly losing his arm and could've cost him his life. What? This shit is spellbinding, believe me, I wanted every last detail. And don't even get me started on the story of him & his wife being thrown off a carriage being pulled by a runaway horse. Really, I have no idea what his politics are, what good books he's read, where he shops for groceries, or even who he prefers for the Superbowl. I just want to hear about all the drama in his life, it's far more interesting to me than any show on tv even.

How do these dramatical people get chosen to have all the drama? I wonder if they even know that the events of their lives are lopsided in comparison to the non-dramatical people. I don't think anyone but my mom wants to hear about every last detail of my life. Not that I want to be bitten by a Brown Recluse or thrown from a runaway horse just so everyone finds my life incredibly interesting. I'll pass, thank you.

Look Out Below

Please note in pic below that D is giving us all the finger. However unintentional that may be, it just proves what a badass he is while in uniform. He can't even control it. You can practically see the badass-ness of it all just oozing out of him.

Baby Got A Brand New Belt

The young J's, both A & D are now karate green belts. They are amazing. Really. Don't be fooled by the sweet smiles, paired up they can kick any 11 year old's ass. Fair warning.

Someone's Regressing

Well, so much for loving my husband at "35". Lately I feel like I have 3 children. None of them can control their tempers, their outbursts, or their love of the Wii. Meanwhile I've gnawed off my fingernails and pulled out my hair just trying to referee between all their fights. I feel like I'm Ma Ingalls from Little House....having heart to heart talks with everyone to pound some sense into them using my super sweet voice so that we can pull together as a family and bring in the crops. Lord I hate that super sweet voice. It has to be used though to avoid the misguided temper tantrums and basic dickwad attitude....of my husband. What I want to explain to my husband is this. Instead of saying to you, "The kids want to play with you, honey, it's not about the Wii. Surely there's a way that all 3 of you can work it out so they can both feel included and have some time with you." (I think Ma said that in the one where Laura ran away, again, because she didn't think she was Pa's favorite anymore.) What I really want to say is, "Are you fu*king kidding me? I don't have time for your bullshit too. I'd like to see you cook supper, clean the kitchen, complete phone calls, deal with the fights of one parent and two children...and...still have the patience to talk in the sweet voice to you. When do I get my damn temper tantrum? Ass." That's what I really wanted to say to you, honey.

And It Just Gets Easier

DJ is sick. He has a miserable cold. And I'm so glad.

As all of you who stay home with your kids know, when they start school, the years of no illnesses are suddenly gone. My kids were never sick. They never had an ear infection, strep throat, the flu. They were always healthy. I always got them the flu vaccine and I thought that was part of the reason why. Ha. Flu vaccine or no, they get sick when they start school, really sick. When my daughter started school, it was the first time I had to deal with the throw ups and I swear she got them every other week, it's no joke, every other week. I truly suffer post traumatic stress from it. I thought DJ would be okay because he was exposed to her when she was sick. Like with so many other things, I was wrong. Literally his kindergarten teacher told me that maybe we'd see faster improvement on his letter-sounds if we improved his attendance. What? How about get him to his speech class as the law requires, crack-head, that might help with letter-sounds. If that was an offer to clean up his vomit and administer his cough medicine I should've taken her up on it. He was so sick last year, it was pretty typical for him to only go to school 3 or 4 days a week all winter.

This year my kids each got a little cold early in the winter, lasted about 3 days with no fevers. DJ started to get a cold again on Thursday, I kept him home on Friday and now today too, and he's nearly well. I can't believe that an illness can only last 3 or 4 days. It's just like when you bring your baby home from the hospital, you can't see that one day in the future your baby really will sleep for a solid 10 hours at night....by themselves. We've had no serious illnesses this year, I keep waiting for it, preparing for it. Just check out my stock of Children's Tylenol, Delsym, Vitamins, and Campbell's soups. Hell, they'll probably all expire before I could ever use them all up....ahhhh, life is good.

Please No More BS

I nearly forgot I even had a blog! My time has been all wrapped up in the planning of tv events for this week. What with MLK day and Inauguration day being this week....it's a homeschool mom's dream come true. The lessons practically plan themselves. AJ's little head has been crammed with so much knowledge this week that I probably won't have to plan a history or Social Studies lesson for the rest of the year! Don't worry mom...I'm only joking...

I've actually started a new Social Studies series called Learning History Through Cooking. It's really fun and AJ loves to get a new book so that she can see all the recipes in it. We've finished the Civil War: Union book, and the Civil War: Confederacy book. Now we're working in Southern Plantations. Next up...Lewis and Clark. We do the lesson during the week, then on Friday we do the recipes that we've picked out. Now here is my important point in all of this.....an apple Peeler/Corer/Slicer machine is nothing short of a miracle. There is nothing more amazing in my kitchen. One little simple contraption and it makes pies, applesauce, cobbler, and the like so much easier. This "PCS" does everything but put the apple on the prongs, I swear it belongs on the Jetsons or something. Here is my second point in the whole cooking thing. Could brown sugar be any grosser? I hate working with it. That "BS" is alive, a whole little cup of moving worms. Brown sugar = stuff of nightmares.

Overall it's been a good week. I've been so busy I haven't really had the time to look outside, which is clearly a good thing. For some reason all this white stuff out there is absolutely refusing to melt. Someone needs to send a note to the weathermen that Christmas is over and there is no longer any need for all of this s-n-o-w.

Yet Another Song Lost To Translation

I remember as a kid finding out the real words to a popular song and them being nothing like the words that I had heard and had been singing all along. The good thing was, I was very shy and never sang loudly, I only sang with the song and very quietly. Not so with my son. He sings loudly and he sings all the time. Listen to me, I said all the time. He truly doesn't realize he's even singing.....all the time. What makes his singing the most interesting of all is the words that he's hearing and he's certainly not shy about singing them regardless if he's correct or not. Even, as an example, a little school song he heard. They were singing See Saw Margery Daw. He sings "See saw marching downnn." I corrected him on this and he told me that he really didn't care, he wants to sing it his way because he likes it better. So I've quit correcting him on songs.

What I really love is in some songs, he hears the words so that they suit his own personal needs like, "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough" by Michael Jackson. The chorus of this song in DJ's world is "Don't stop at the Post Office, don't stop at the Post Office." He hates when I go to the Post Office, hates it. So this is currently his favorite Michael Jackson song, he sings it at the top of his lungs in his room, I'm sure he thinks it was made to be his own personal anthem. He probably thanks Michael daily for being able to read his thoughts and create a song that fits his life so perfectly.

Recently I had to do a quick revision on my no correction policy. DJ was singing Queen's popular sporting event song. Here is his rendition: "You've got mud on your face, a big disgrace, wiping your butt all over this place, we will, we will, rock you!" I quickly cut him off in the middle of the chorus, I can't have him running around talking about wiping butts. I can just hear the angry parents calling the school now...."Yeah, that little DJ kid was telling my son he was going to wipe his butt up with a rock." Trust me Readers, I've had far too many conniption fits at that school....I'm sure the principal would love having to call me in to correct a problem they're having with me and my kid.

Innocence Lost

Thanks Grand Rapids, thanks a lot. My children used to be innocent and full of wonder. Much like they believe in Santa Claus, they believed in the glorious magic of a snow day. But no more Grand Rapids, no more, you've failed them one too many times. They are becoming bitter and angry at the world. How wonderful it was to see their little faces, full of awe on a snowy morning after being told school was cancelled for the day. The last good thing about this cruel winter was the hope of a snow day and yet you continue to dash those hopes until they don't even exist anymore. What is a little child to think, what is the point of the winter, they've had as many snow days in Arizona as we've had here, yet Arizona is 70 and sunny, and we're...so not. For godsakes GR, give these poor kids a snow day before the magic in their lives is lost...and they become compulsive liars because they are forced to fake sick every week.

After School Conversation

DJ: Mommy, will we still visit Grand Rapids after we move to Arizona?
Me: Probably honey. Is there anything that you're really really going to miss? Do you want to talk about how you feel about moving?
DJ: Well, it is pretty here. Not right now, but sometimes.
Me: Yes, I know. Is there anything you're really going to miss though. Something that is going to be too upsetting for you to leave behind?
DJ: Yes, well...Mommy...I really... Do they have that really good macaroni and cheese that I love in Arizona? I would really miss it.

I think we're clear for the move.

Obsessed With The 'Sauce

Ah Readers. I need my mom to hurry up and retire. There are so so many good reasons for it, but let's talk about the newest and currently most pressing reason I need her to retire. I need her to teach me, and then help me can....applesauce. DJ and AJ are obsessed with homemade applesauce, they never took to the store bought kind, but they love some mommy-made. DJ in particular will sit and eat 3 full bowls in one sitting. He'll be completely stuffed full and continue to ask for more because he loves it so much. Six pounds of apples made up into applesauce at my house lasts all of 12 hours. DJ just doesn't realize that when he eats so much, he's literally "eating it up" and so when the applesauce is gone after one nightime snack, and one breakfast, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Well, perhaps he does. It goes a lot like this. Yelling, screaming, crying, throwing couch cushions, throwing himself down stairs, throwing himself on the floor, throwing his head back and screaming, "Why me, why me?" There are much dramatics in my house when the applesauce is gone. How handy it would be to go calmly to the pantry and open up a freshly canned jar when we run out. Of course, maybe I shouldn't complain, it's nice to know my cooking is appreciated. Perhaps a part of me will miss the wild hysteria that ensues when the applesauce is gone, but I think it would be a very teeny part of me. I'm even guessing a thank you and a smile might suffice.

Isn't The Snow Punishment Enough?

It would seem, as I sit, confined in my house, huddled under blankets and constantly turning up the heat "just a little bit more", that this is all I can handle right now. The winter, it's enough for anyone to have to deal with in a 5 month period. And yet, this smell began to drift up from my basement. It wasn't pleasant. Then I noticed the rug was wet in the laundry room, not a good sign. By the time I got the Sewer Man here, there was stuff coming back up the basement toilet and the floor drain in my laundry room. A nice mixture of shit, toilet tissue, and odd bits of orange & apple peel from the disposal. Pretty. The Sewer Man had a bit of a time getting everything to go back down the laundry room floor drain, but he did a great job. He even helped clean up the floor. Then he left me, a homebound, obsessive compulsive with a stinking, contaminated basement. I'm sure the germs were everywhere, I could feel them. I took my bleach, my Lysol, a bottle of 409, my Swiffer mop, and a pile of rags down to the basement. I knew I wouldn't emerge from the basement the same person as when I went down. It's amazing how a backload of shit and sludge from the disposal can change your view of the world. There were no big chunks of anything for me to deal with, it was all pretty much contained in the drains or toilet. Mostly just germ invested water was everywhere. Let me try to explain how difficult it is to clean in a timely manner when I have to spray with 409, clean a section, get the Lysol, spray my shoes with it, spray the newly cleaned part of the floor, spray and clean another section with 409, spray Lysol on my shoes, spray Lysol on the cleaned floor, etc., until a large enough section gets done that I can then get my Swiffer mop and reclean the floor, spray my shoes with Lysol and respray the floor with Lysol. Oh, it's a process. In fact, I believe when I was finished, the clean scent that was emanating from the basement was actually more toxic than the initial shit smell. Oh well, at least I spent most of my day in the basement and couldn't see the snow that started coming down...intent on making me a prisoner in my own home. A very cold prisoner with a basement floor so clean it borders on toxic.

The Most Vile of the 4 Letter Words

It's snowing.
Again.
And much more to come.
I can't write more, I have to get my mind to my Happy Place.

A Cacophony You Say?

The holidays are over and as you may have guessed, my life as a shut in has commenced. Admittedly, I have gone to the library to get some books to help entertain myself. However, I'm going to need to take out nearly the whole library to do this shut in thing properly because I'm reading about a book a day. Of course that is in part because I haven't been able to sleep at night since I also became ill, just in time for the New Year. Ideal.

What I've been wondering of late, is if there is a whole set of words for conversations and speaking and an additional set of words for writing. Let's take for example the word cacophony. I've read this word at least once in the last 8 of 10 books I've read. I'm well aware of what it means, however, I've never heard this word spoken in real conversation before. The only time I've ever used it in conversation was to my sister when I said, "Is the word cacophony only for novels because I've never heard it spoken aloud before." She thought I could be right. I think we should change this, start using these never spoken words to spice up our vocabulary. No longer will we say, "I took the kids to the playland and it was complete madness, I wanted to slit my wrists." Now we say, "I took the kids to the playland and there was such a cacophony, I wanted to slit my wrists." See how much more sophisticated that sounds? Clearly, I'm all about the sophistication.