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|Thursday, February 13th, 2014|
Happy Birthday to Eleven! In keeping with our low-key birthday theme this year (and last), we stayed around the Gingerbread House for most of Eleven's birthday. We went to HK88, a Chinese restaurant that is called something slightly different now but I forget the name, to eat our birthday lunch. The Thursday after we got back to California, we had planned to go there. There were dogs barking at the GH and I had moved the HO to a different place in our neighborhood, closer to HK88, which is within walking distance of the GH, I was closing and locking the HO when I heard brakes screeching to a stop. I looked up to see that Eleven had run across the street, not looking, and an SUV with what looked like a mom inside had screeched to a halt. I yelled Eleven's name. He stopped, but if it hadn't been for that woman watching and stopping, Eleven would have been hit. Needless to say, I got everybody back in the car that day and drove somewhere else. I was so upset that my baby had almost been hit and yet so very thankful that he wasn't. And so, we had an especially wonderful birthday with Eleven this year. When we finally made it to the HK88, it was a special celebration indeed, a celebration of my beautiful baby's being alive.
At his actual time of birth, around 3:59 p.m., we were walking along the street, coming back from a fabulous meal at HK88. Eleven wanted to go home after that meal, which we did. At 7 p.m., we went to Burbank for a free magic show. After that, we went to Chevy's, from which we had another birthday coupon. Eleven donned a big Mexican hat and had a special birthday dessert.
The most special part for mommy, however, is that he's here with us. I'm so very thankful for my Eleven!
|Tuesday, February 4th, 2014|
I had written about Eleven's birthday, but when I looked at my journal today to write another entry, I noticed that what I wrote had never been published. I don't know why. Usually, Live Journal asks me if I would like to restore the saved draft, but it didn't this time. So, I'm writing it again. This time, I'm checking it to make sure it posts.
In keeping with our more laidback birthday style these days, Eleven's birthday began with our getting up and doing our usual stuff. Well, sort of. We've been diligent about schoolwork since we returned from North Carolina, and really, we were also doing pretty well in N.C. But we didn't do any work on Eleven's birthday. It turned out to be a holiday--LOL!
We hung out at the Gingerbread House for most of the day. Eleven wanted to eat his birthday lunch at HK88, a Chinese-esque restaurant (they serve sushi, too) close to the GH. We love this place and often get a calendar from there, although they were out when we got there this year. The Thursday after we got back from North Carolina, we had wanted to go there. Normally, we just walk there, but this time, the dogs were barking and our neighbor was yelling at us. Oh, it was a mess. So, I suggested that we get in the HO and go, which we did. We parked on a neighboring street and, as everybody was starving (our usual modus operandi
), everybody got out of the car. I was locking the HO driver door when I heard screeching brakes. I looked up and screamed Eleven's name. A woman, probably a mom, in an SUV-ish vehicle had screeched to a stop, a few feet from where Eleven was standing. If she had not stopped, she would have hit him. He had crossed the road without looking. My emotions were a mixture of fright and thankfulness. I thanked the woman profusely and traffic, which had stopped, went back to its normalness. "Thank You, God!" I said, not at all using the Lord's name in vain, but thanking God that my baby was still alive. I asked everybody to get back in the HO and we went almost to Woodland Hills, to a shopping center, where we got something to eat that day. To think how close Eleven came to being hit by a car . . . oh, the thought still frightens me.
So, eating at HK88 on Eleven's birthday was truly a way of celebrating his birth and his life; as my friend Sara said once, when her now 19-year-old had just turned one: I'm so glad he's still alive!
It is truly a miracle to celebrate your progeny's birthday, every year. No one knows what tomorrow will bring, but when a bunch of tomorrows lead to a day that's your child's birthday, and everybody is still alive and healthy, it is truly a celebration.
It just so happened that Burbank Library had a wonderful magic show scheduled for Eleven's birthday evening. During the final trick, Eleven and Thirteen were able to go on stage and assist. Then, we went to Chevys Fresh Mex, where we got chips, guacamole, a birthday brownie for the birthday boy, and some fabulous entrees. Oh, and yet another "Mexican big hat," as the "Red State Update" guys have said.
It was truly a miraculous day!
|Friday, January 31st, 2014|
|Country Mouse/City Mouse
When Thirteen was just an infant and we stayed at Aunt Joni's when we visited N.C., I remember being so very amazed that I could be sleeping in Joni's house in the morning and by night, we'd be at LAX, one of the largest airports in the country. I grew up near a town of about 3,000 people. Near
the town. That means I grew up in the country
. While I do know girls that can outcountry
me by a country mile, I do know how it is to live in a house with well water. And a septic tank. Deep down, I'm a country girl, too. Therefore, it's a little bit odd for me to have to buy a 2 1/2 gallon jug of water that may taste a little bit "plastic-y" as my N.C. neighbor once called some Trader Joe's water in a bottle. And yes, he's right about that. So, I really miss the water in N.C., being that in L.A., all spigot water smells and tastes like chlorine.
Unfortunately, North Carolina--with its 6.75% sales tax, newly-added "movie ticket tax," and a new tax on anything bought by N.C. residents on the Internet--is not exactly a tax haven. Actually, it's sounding more and more, taxwise, like California each day. When we stopped in Asheville at the TCBY (excellent yogurt, btw!), I noticed a special Asheville city tax on our bill. N.C. legislators are not going to miss out on tax money any more than California's assembly members.
So, I am a bit of a country mouse. I miss the boys' being able to walk to the store and get some milk, as we so desperately need this morning. I miss good tasting water. I miss my two acres. Having said that, it's great to be back in the land of pot stores. Taxes may be high, but the government doesn't interfere so much with your right to ingest marijuana. I'm not at all saying there aren't other stupid laws in California, though. I'm a bit of a city mouse, too, though. I totally dig being ten minutes away from TJ's and Whole Foods. And of course, navigating L.A.'s freeways makes me feel like a Nascar driver.
I'm not sure how long this bi-coastal thing will last, but for the moment, I am extremely thankful to be experiencing it. And I am very thankful that my children and I can drive each other crazy, with animals, in the HO.
|Wednesday, January 29th, 2014|
|Back in L.A., Where It's Sunny and 75 Much of the Time
But I'm missing the snow in N.C. Thirteen said he knew it would snow as soon as we left, and it did. It took us 71 hours to drive across the country. Part of the time I had three sons with me; some of the time, only one. We always had at least three animals with us. It was a stressful trip and I'm thankful, very very thankful, that we made it back safely.
|Thursday, December 26th, 2013|
|Boxing Day Blues
There's a lot to be thankful for this Christmas, mostly that I'm alive and that my boys and alive and healthy. The living room is filled with presents; therefore, I'm guessing that we've had enough of that kind of thing, although I'm pretty sure there are more coming in. SF got here last Monday and is staying with us at V.V. It's a little bit sad that there's no Christmas tree at the Gingerbread House this year. But then again, spending Christmas in L.A. is kinda lonely. Not that there was no loneliness in N.C., of course. I'd like to say that things with SF are improving. It's not that they're getting a lot worse, but the communication thing still is not there. It may never be. And that's sad.
I'm trying, of course, to analyze everything and figure out why, oh why, I'm in my second marriage and I seem to be no better with relationships than when I was eleven. Ugh. So, I'm trying to figure it all out. Why do I need somebody who'll talk to me in a way that I understand? Why do I seem to need to trust and befriend someone on a very intimate level? And why isn't that someone SF?
Oh, I don't have any answers. That's for sure. At this point, I'm just trying to figure out the right questions to ask. One thing seems pretty certain, though; if I don't get that intimate friendship that I so desire, I go looking outside the marriage for it. And if you think this wasn't a problem in marriage numero uno, you're wrong. Yes, I am having the same issues come up, which leads me to believe that I shouldn't at all be married. But I am married. I really like being married, but I guess I don't like the commitment that comes with it. Or somehow that commitment thing just isn't working with the guys I try to do it with. Now, why is that? Maybe 2014 will give me some answers.
|Wednesday, December 18th, 2013|
|It's Almost Christmas, Already?!?
This happens every year, my thinking that it's almost Christmas and I've done nothing to prepare. Fortunately, we were able to buy a tree and a couple of wreaths last weekend and so, the boys have added much to those three things by decorating V.V. They are very good at decorating for Christmas, which I am thankful for. Maybe watching HGTV while breastfeeding was not such a bad idea.
We've had a lot of interesting and cool things happen lately, some not so cool. There was the SF-is-not-getting-a-bonus this year scare, followed by the SF-is-getting-a-bonus-but-it's-not-going-t
o-be-until-after-Christmas reality. I'm certainly thankful for the latter. We are trying to drag ourselves out of the miry financial pit that we've been in for the past few years. Fortunately, SF has a job. And I might have some proposal work coming up. Financial stuff is pretty much all that SF and I talk about these days, it seems.
We accidentally got to ride a boat in the local Town of Bocephus Christmas parade. I was extremely happy about that. There was freezing rain and such that day and we were searching for Thirteen's karate school float. That float didn't happen. Neither did Ten's football team float. A couple of floats, already paid for, had no one to ride on them. The parade director told us to find a float and ride on it. I was thrilled but the boys were not. Until they found out that they could throw out candy. That changed things tremendously.
In the past month, I've done a lot of traveling, but I'm thankful to be in North Carolina for Christmas. I was telling my insurance agent and his admin about how weird L.A. is at Christmas. It is fabulous to be able to go to the beach on Christmas day, of course, but L.A. is a city full of lonely people who miss/hate/are missing their families. Having kinfolk in SoCal is a rare thing indeed. Most people have either moved from somewhere else or have the good sense to move from L.A, after their idiot parents moved there. Wait, maybe I'm talking about my own kids here. But really, lots of SoCal-raised kids seem to want to move to another state.
Anyway, all of that lack-of-family-ties that L.A. has sure does produce a lot of t.v. shows, and some movies, too.
|Wednesday, December 4th, 2013|
|Sliding Across The Country A Couple Of Times, Or So
So, in this past month, just over one month since my birthday, we have traveled by car across the United States, going west, then east. We are back at Villa Villekula now. Oh, I also might mention that Thirteen and I flew to N.C. from SoCal last weekend, for some stuff, including a funeral. And no, we are not made of money. In fact, I'm hoping to get more proposal work and pay off some of this travel. Most has been financed by cash, btw, which I am trying to use more and more often these days.
I am tired. Exhausted. I slept maybe two hours or so last night and have been up all day today. Driving across the country with three children, three puppies, a mama dog, can be exhausted for this tired mama.
I really need to write, though. I am so very thankful for two angelic things that happened, in addition to God's protection for us, for which I am very thankful, the entire trip. One is that in the midst of this particular bitch's first meltdown during this trip, before we ever left California (regarding the other bitch's poop, or that of her pups, landing on a computer case in the HO, resulting in a more thorough coverage with plastic and puppy pads for the HO), a kind angel gave us a cat carrier. This particular angel's caring nature-=-as she saw that I was yelling and cleaning up dog poop and yet trying so hard not to lose it in the Mojave deser--calmed me immensely; her dog had also had three puppies that she was hauling to Missouri. She gave me, taking no money for it, a cat carrier, which became a real Godsend during the trip.
The next morning, we were trying to figure out where to eat in Flagstaff. Just a few days previously, we had gone to a McDonald's in Flagstaff while I edited an SBIR proposal. We were around the same McDonald's (where we had stayed for over three hours while I worked) and I wanted to go to McDonald's, not for the food per se
, but for the quickness. Thirteen wanted to eat at some country buffet place. I didn't feel much like it, but we went anyway. There, a big extended family sat beside us and I was freaking out; they were in our space as well as theirs. I went to the bathroom. When I returned, another smaller family sat beside us. Angel Woman had two sons, or so it seemed. There was another woman with her and eventually, her husband came and sat down. At one point, our eyes met briefly and then, we both went on about our business. As I was putting a tip on the table and getting ready to go, she told me that she wanted to pay for our breakfast. And she did. It was a bit disconcerting at first, simply because of the surprise of this action from a total stranger. She accompanied me to the cash register and paid my bill, wishing me a "Merry Christmas." It changed everything about the trip. I could feel that God and the angels were protecting me, or so it certainly seemed.
I am so very thankful for these two angels in my life.
|Monday, November 18th, 2013|
|Happy Birthday to Nine!
This is the last year that my youngest will be in the single digits. After this year, it's double digits for birthdays.
Nine wanted me to wake him at 5 a.m. so that he would be awake at the actual time of his birth, which was closer to 6 a.m., which is when I actually woke him. He might have stayed awake, but I didn't. Yesterday, the day before Nine's birthday, we celebrated at Chevy's in Ontario, when we went to pick up the new HO. Nine also got a mint chocolate chip birthday cake at B-R.
|Thursday, November 14th, 2013|
|Twelve Becomes Thirteen
Thirteen years ago, and that's hard to believe, I was in labor with my firstborn. A couple of days ago, as we were driving East to West across the country, he lost his last baby tooth at a Braum's in Oklahoma. He was hoping to wait until his birthday to lose it, but being that we were traveling, tonight's the first night he's had a proper pillow and bed. And so, the Tooth Fairy is contemplating that last toothy letter to my new teenager.
We have so much to be thankful for in coming across the country safely. Also, I've had a little bit of proposal work this week, for which I am very thankful.
It's great to be back in L.A. We left North Carolina around 8:30 a.m. on Sunday morning and got into L.A. around 4:30 a.m. Wednesday morning. Tonight, I was on Goodnight Universe, with Cole Young and Chris Ramirez. Ramirez actually has a studio attached to his house, which is extremely cool. I felt as though I was back in radio. And in fact, Ramirez taped a couple of promos from me.
Twelve wants a visit to the Lego store in Glendale for his birthday, and he wants to go out and eat. I'm glad that he and Eight will be spending their birthday with their daddy, being that they did not last year. Last night, before Goodnight Universe, I actually got to blow out candles on my own birthday cake. That was a lot of fun and the boys and I enjoyed the cake. SF got a piece of cake as well.
Cole gave me a bag of pot brownie mix. No kidding. I'm looking forward to make those, sometime when the kids are asleep. It's fabulous to be back in California. Oh yes, it is.
Happy Birthday to Thirteen, who will officially turn that number (and be able to get his own Facebook account) around 6:18 p.m. tonight.
|Sunday, November 3rd, 2013|
|Happy Birthday to Me!
Sometimes, I put a lot of pressure on myself about this whole birthday thing. Today, I just decided to let things flow. Yesterday was fabulous. We went to a neighbor's chicken stew and then, to a weiner roast on the next ridge. We came home full, and with some extra chicken stew. Today, we were going to eat that stew after church and then, Angie and her family decided to go to an Italian restaurant and the boys and I decided to go with them. Turns out, the preacher and his wife were there as well. So, we had a big ol' table at the Italian place. And we saw our former preacher, P.K. Some of you might remember that he chided me for "The Dildo Song." But all seemed to be forgotten today, when he led the birthday band of restaurant waiters over to sing "Happy Birthday" to me. And I got ice cream. And some cake, most of which went to my progeny, who never seem to get enough to eat.
That festivity lasted until almost 4 p.m. and then we took Twelve to sell Boy Scout popcorn, which is what I was doing at my actual time of birth, 5:22 p.m.
We came back to Villa Villekula and built a fire. I've been chillin' ever since.
Oh, btw, I got texted birthday wishes from J., E., and my ex-husband. I appreciate all of those. But there were no birthday wishes from my current husband. It looks as though it wouldn't have killed him to text "Happy Birthday" to me, but maybe it would have, in which case, I'm glad he didn't text it. I am happy to say that his father sent me a card, as did his aunt.
Nobody really wants to leave N.C. for a couple of weeks to go back to California, but we need to do that soon. We are having loads of fun here.
The church sang "Happy Birthday" to me also today. And when R.M., choir director and husband of my friend, A. (yes, he went to the Italian restaurant today as well) had all of us with birthdays this week to stand up, he said that we should sing "Happy Birthday" and the congregation should listen. Well, hahaha. Turns out, M.C. (we share the same birthday, but he is one year older) and I were singing in the choir today and the other person with a birthday sings in a bluegrass band. So, I guess it would have been fun if we'd sung it to ourselves. But it was nice to have others sing it to me as well.
I'm feeling pretty loved and happy now, not so much by SF, but by lots of others. Maybe he just has a different way of showing things. Or maybe he just doesn't like me. Whatever the case, I have three wonderful sons who seek okay with me most of the time. And for those sweet little guys, I am extremely thankful.
|Friday, November 1st, 2013|
|The Veil Between the Living and the Dead
Here we are, at that time of the year again, the time when the veil between the living and the dead is thinnest. Or at least, that's what I read a couple of years ago. Somewhere. Maybe in the Almanac?!? That's what Halloween, and its afterday, All Souls Day on November 1st, is all about. Last year, I remember having a dream about my adoptive cousin, J., who'd died when I was a teenager. This past Thursday, I was talking with a neighbor and friend who started listening to a song that he said his uncle played on the radio when he was alive. I guess we are in that season of the year when we can most easily think about and perhaps communicate with the dead.
Speaking of the dead, last Sunday, after church and before we headed to the State Fair in Raleigh, we stopped by Greensboro for my adoptive great uncle's funeral. He was the youngest of his nine or so siblings and now, they are all dead. His sister was my beloved adoptive grandmother, Grandma C. I remember reunions that we went to when I was a child. All of the siblings, except the one who died in World War II, were alive and well and I remember one photograph with them all in it, taken at Grandma C.'s brother's house in Virginia. The uncle who died last week lived in Greensboro. He'd been sick for a few years and his daughter, wife, and grandchildren had been taking care of him. I got lost in Greensboro (who knew there were two
High Point Roads?!?) and missed the funeral. But we got there just in time for the burial, with "full military honors." It was nice for my boys to see a funeral with guns and soldiers and a folded flag given to the widow. I'm sure that Uncle Calvin would have loved the educational experience that he provided. But it's sad that he's gone. It's always sad when someone dies, especially when that someone is a lovely person who was always kind and generous, as Uncle Calvin was.
So, things are always changing, whether we want them to or not. People are always dying, whether we want them to or not.
Here I am, currently in North Carolina, wondering what I'm going to do with a marriage that's less than fulfilling, but better than nothing. Here I am, trying to make my children into the rednecks that they really should be, with the lineage of my natural family, and really, with that of my adoptive family as well. We are listening to lots of country music and a neighbor is having a chicken stew tomorrow night. And so, we will do what we can to keep the boys from being city slickers, even though they were born smack dab in the middle of Los Angeles (way too close to the border of Beverly Hills).
Lord help me, I sure do miss the pot stores of L.A. A neighbor here told me of a friend of his that got arrested for pot seeds
in his car. Having said that, I sure do hope I've vacuumed the HO well since I got to North Carolina. I did get pulled the other night, btw, and the officer was awesome, letting me go without even running my California driver's license.
So, I'm drinking alcohol and really missing pot. I'm missing the Gingerbread House, too. But I must say that here, at church and most other places, I'm really feeling loved. Oh, there is the occasional thing, such as whoever turned in the HO to the N.C. DMV for having California license plates (evidently, that's a sin in N.C.). But overall, things are really nice here in N.C. C.C. the Wonder Dog has had three puppies and the cats are loving the grass and trees. So are the boys.
And for the bitches--forgive me if I'm wrong on guessing who did this, but I'm pretty sure it was two bitches who want me out o' state--who turned in the HO, well, I'm trying to forgive and forget. But if they do anything else, I hope they remember that I have some pretty funky $hit on them as well.
Oh, and no, I did not go to the WKNC-FM reunion tonight at the Player's Retreat in Raleigh. We've been to Raleigh and back twice this week, once for the fair and once for a dentist visit (no cavities for any of us!). And so, I was more than happy to go to a football game that my alma mater actually won
tonight. But we are planning to go to the chicken stew tomorrow night, followed by a weiner roast, followed by a costume party where Twelve (way too soon to be 13) takes karate. And so, it ain't like we're bored here in the sticks.
Happy Thin Veil to You and Yours, Whether Living or Dead!
|Thursday, October 10th, 2013|
|Latest V.V. Stuff
Since I last wrote, the boys and I have been ziplining with the youth group at church. Fortunately, Eight was able to attend his soccer game before the trip, and Ten attended his football game afterwards. Everything worked out beautifully, including that nobody fell off the zipline.
In not so great news, Don's wife, Peggy, fell and has been in the hospital. Some of you might remember that Don's store has been my refuge since I was an infant. It used to belong to his daddy, but now, he runs it pretty much by himself, with his wife's help. It was closed for a whole week and now, it's back in business. Thank goodness. I was going crazy when it was closed. There was a whole different vibe in the 'hood and it wasn't a good one.
In a couple of days, SF and I will have our 16th wedding anniversary. Celebrating it might be an odd choice of words, considering that we'll be 2,400 miles apart. And considering that we're not that close in thought or deed. So, I'm not sure what's happening with the marriage, but we still are legally married. Perhaps that in and of itself is cause for celebration.
Please pray for Don's family as Peggy heals.
And as always, the boys and I would appreciate any good vibes or prayers you send our way.
|Wednesday, September 25th, 2013|
|Trying Hard Not to Drink
"Mom, you have a negative effect on the universe
," said Ten. I'd like to laugh at that or ignore it or something. After eleven years of therapy, I'd like to think that comments like that roll off me like water off a duck's back. But they don't. Or as I told SF when I briefly talked with him before a few more trying moments with the boys, "Imagine if [SF's boss] told you that every morning." I've worked at some pretty $hitty jobs before, but I've never really had anybody (except boyfriends) talk with me in that way. And you can kinda understand the boyfriend thing, right?!?
But by somebody I gave birth to?!?
I have only had two days of relative sobriety, but I really am trying to deal with my problems in a way besides drinking wine. I've been drinking way too much of it lately. It's expensive. And not healthy in large doses.
After Ten heard me talking with his daddy on the phone, he said he was sorry, that he didn't mean the comment. I wish I could derive some kind of mommy wisdom from all this, some cute little quip that would put it in somewhat of an Erma-Bombeck-ish perspective. But right now, I'm too busy hurting and wondering if I should just allow my children to live like wild wolf cubs instead of making them follow rules and guidelines.
Sometimes, I'm really tempted by the wolf cub method.
|Tuesday, September 24th, 2013|
|Happy Birthday, Aunt Joni!
Well, she's not actually the boys' aunt and she's not actually my sister, but sometimes I forget. She's been there for me since I was a wee thing and I'm very thankful that she is in my life. Tonight, when I texted a Happy Birthday to her, she texted back and said that her husband Greg took her to a special birthday dinner. I'm so glad that she is having a fabulous birthday. She deserves it!
p.s. I also found out tonight that SF's uncle's birthday is today. That's the boys' natural great uncle. I didn't know that he shared a birthday with Joni, but that is very cool. Happy Birthday, Uncle Gene in Nebraska!
|Tuesday, September 17th, 2013|
|Eight Gets Saved
A few years ago, Twelve got saved during Vacation Bible School (VBS) and when he told this news to his paternal grandfather (PG), PG replied by saying, "Saved from what?"
That reply reminded me just how far I'd gotten from my Southern roots. You see, the one thing that I could never quite find in Raleigh, and have yet to find in L.A., is a church. There are lots of churches, churches all over the place in both cities, but nothing quite like I find around here. Frankly, I love the church I grew up in. I love the people. I love the church building. I love the fellowship hall.
It was pretty cool this past Sunday, during the invitation, when Eight whispered and asked me if it was okay for him to go up to the altar. If you're reading this and you are not Baptist, you may have no idea what the whole getting saved thing and/or the whole invitation thing is all about.
But it's a really neat thing in that through getting saved, you invite Jesus into your heart. It saves you from hell. And it makes you a Christian. It's really hard for atheists, et al., I'm guessing, to understand all of this. It probably seems like so much bull$hit to them. But to me and other Christians, it's a really important thing. It's something that you decide by faith. One thing I really like about being saved in the Baptist church is that you come to the decision on your own, not as a result of some class or some such.
So, I was pretty proud of and pleasantly surprised that Eight went up to the altar. It was especially cool that it was church homecoming and that the preacher that day happened to be the one who baptized me.
We had been unsure of whether to go to last Saturday's Dodgers game with Cub Scouts in California or not. Partly due to finances and also due to time constraints, we decided not to go. Seeing that Eight got saved last Sunday, I'd say we made the right decision.
|Friday, September 13th, 2013|
|Whore or Skank?!?
Before I get into this whole debate, I would like to thank M., a homeschooling mom, for her inspiration on getting my a$$ in gear and writing another journal entry. I've been pretty lazy, partly due to my appearances on Goodnight Universe (GU). I do love being on that show, or perhaps I'm just addicted to it. If the latter is the case, I'd put it close to my addiction to taking classes at NCSU. That addiction lasted for years. I had to move to the West Coast just to get away from it. But I haven't been writing much on my blog. That's where M. comes in--she told me today that a few nights ago, she had insomnia. She woke up at 3 a.m. and "caught up on reading" my blog, as she put it. Evidently, the Comic Mom blog is great for insomniacs. Maybe that's why I'm writing this at almost 6 a.m., being that I went to sleep beside Eight, per his request, and planned to be up in 30 minutes or so, but ended up sleeping for, oh, about five hours. Maybe writing all this will put me back to sleep before the sun comes up. Maybe.
Five nights a week or so, I either set my cell phone clock to wake me at 1:30 a.m. or so; or I just stay up. When we're at the Gingerbread House (GH), I am usually walking around the GH 'hood between 10 and 11 p.m., talking while SF supervises baths. Yes, I realize that my kids have late bedtimes. Nonetheless, on the East Coast, talking on GU is quite an excursion. I am so thankful for it. It gives me a much needed mental vacation from all the crap that's going on in the Villa Villekula (VV) 'hood.
Well, you know, with my neighbor and such. And by that, I mean the female neighbor who calls me a whore every chance she gets. I've provided a link to this definition and I can tell you right now that the first meaning does not at all do me justice. If I were indeed a "woman who engages in sexual acts for money," well then, I'd have more money. I'd also be having sex. Or so one would assume. I guess you could say that all stay-at-home moms are whores because we all pretty much have sex with our husband for money. I mean, I guess that counts. And so, in that respect, I certainly am a whore.
But I'm not a very good whore. I really need to market myself better. And have sex from time to time. Oh, and I guess it needs to be with someone besides my husband. But then again, that would require time and energy that I don't seem to have right now. Or as the Erma Bombeck book I'm reading now is titled, A Marriage Made in Heaven or Too Tired for An Affair.
Listening to my whore-calling neighbor, however, it seems as though I do nothing but have men in and out of VV all night. I could go into all kinds of analyses about my neighbor. And btw, I'm not the only person who notices that she acts a little crazed from time to time. I'm guessing she doesn't have that great of a relationship with her husband, NMHH. Or I'll put it this way, most people I know in Bocephus County and the surrounding areas seem to have good marriages. Ironically, or maybe not, they don't take time to stand on my property line and call me a whore for several minutes. Perhaps that's merely a coincidence, but I'm thinking that part of a good marriage (as if I would know anything about that) is spending more time talking with your husband and less time calling any neighbors names. Well, that's just a guess, though.
So, I'm talking about this woman on GU, of course, and her physical assault on me and her harrassment of me and my children, and of course, Ramirez was envisioning me with her husband. I have known her husband, btw, since he started school. We used to ride the bus together, in fact. So, it's not as though talking to him is some newfangled thing. I do like talking to him and we have talked a lot. According to Merriam-Webster, this act does not make me a whore. Well, unless maybe you count me as a "venal and unscrupulous person," the third definition. I had to look up "venal," and I can tell you that I'm really not that either. I'm far far from perfection, but I would say I was at all unscrupulous. I try very hard to be scrupulous. So, I may not be the whore that she thinks I am.
However, in talking on GU the other night, I looked at their chat board and saw that somebody, thinking, I guess, that Ramirez's fantasies about NMHH and me (and believe me, they are his fantasies) are actual fact. That person, Guest 115, called me "skanky." Now, when I think of that word, I can't help but to think of BtL's wife. I think that anyone who'd steal $$$$ from me, and from her own family, could certainly be called "repugnantly filthy or squalid" or "of low or sleazy character." But someone who talks to a neighbor she went to school with?!? Maybe that's what passes for skanky these days. This same Guest 115, btw, also said that I sound as though I weigh "500 lbs." When I asked Ten what that would even sound like, he started talking as if he were out of breath. I'm thinking he's right. That would certainly be the case, probably. Do I sound out of breath?!? I am thankful to say that I weigh less than half of this and so, I couldn't help but wonder if my whore-calling neighbor (WCN) was listening to the GU show and commenting on the chat board. Oh, probably not, but still . . .
So, am I a whore or a skank?!?
Whichever one I am, if I am either, I certainly would like to get back asleep before the sun comes up.
|Tuesday, August 27th, 2013|
|Not Back to School, Again
So far, so good on the homeschooling thing. I am very thankful that we are still able to do this. I gave Twelve the option of playing football this year, but unfortunately, that option required that he attend the local county--let's call it "Bocephus" county--school. He had really been looking forward to football, to improving himself, et al. But the seventh and eighth grade community teams have now been taken over by the Bocephus County school system and by golly, they want to make sure that all football players follow the rigors and zero tolerance of the Common Core Curriculum. Even private Christian school students cannot step on the hallowed football ground as a player if they do not adhere to the North Carolina Nazis. In Florida, a friend tells me, homeschoolers can participate in any extracurricular activity. Not in North Carolina, however, where the pressure to conform to increasing governmental standards makes it even more difficult to be a non-conformist. Or as one of the coaches told me: What if ten black kids wanted to play on the football team, but they just don't go to school.
And people call me
racist?!? I'd say that those ten black kids will have parents that will have to take responsibility for their a$$e$. But who believes in individual responsibility anymore?!? Certainly not the Bocephus County school system. Or any other school system in N.C.
Twelve could have gone to school. His daddy and I would have supported him in that. I told him that he could. But when we got to thinking about how he'd be in school from about 7:30 a.m. to after 3 p.m., and then would have football practice until 6 p.m., we all got to wondering just how he was going to do anything else; his beloved guitar would have to take a back seat. The fifth and sixth grades are still, for the moment, under community control. And so, Ten is playing football this year. Eight is doing soccer. Twelve has substituted karate for football. We're all surviving just fine. Oh, and did I say that when I tried to call the Bocephus County school superintendent, who I bet hasn't taught an actual class to students in years, he was too busy and self-important to return my phone call, even though I graduated with him and his wife. Oh, and did I tell you that I've paid over $12,000 in taxes in the past few years, much of which has gone, no doubt, to him and his predecessors. He makes over $150,000 per year. Per f'-in' year
. So, I do think I deserve at least a phone call from him.
We were sitting and doing math this afternoon and as I was explaining a concept to Twelve, I noticed how very deep his voice is getting. He's becoming, slowly, slowly, a man. Quickly, quickly, if the truth be known. A proverbial light bulb turned on in his brain. I was so glad I could witness this event. It's late and I need to go to bed, but I am very thankful that Twelve chose himself and what he does over the forced Bocephus school system. I just wish he hadn't had to make that choice this year.
|Saturday, August 17th, 2013|
|Homeschooling Versus Football
So, after two weeks of football practice for Twelve, he was informed yesterday that he cannot play on the team. Because, even though he's in the school district, he is homeschooled. He must be enrolled in the middle school to play football there. We're not talking high school, folks, but seventh and eighth grade
. I told him that I was willing to register him, if he wanted me to. But we got to thinking about it and he'd pretty much have to give up guitar if he was in school from 8 a.m. to after 3 p.m., with fooball practice from 3:30 until around 5:30 p.m. But if that's what he wants, I'll do it.
He decided this morning that he didn't want to do it. It wasn't worth it to go to school right now, just to play football. It's a real loss to think that in middle school, things have become so very strict. Then again, it shows me one more reason to loathe the government schools. J., a homeschooling mama friend, told me that in Florida, homeschool students can participate in any
extracurricular activity. But the proverbial reins are tightening in North Carolina. Why, oh, why?!? Last year, Twelve could have played as a homeschooler in seventh grade, but this year, he cannot. His coach and the principal really wanted him to register for school. He's got the weekend to make a final decision, and I'll support him in whatever he decides. However, I will say that I'm quite proud of the decision he's made so far. With Common Core hitting the tracks soon, in every school, he will be wise to stay far away from government schools. It's a damn shame that they make football in N.C. dependent on attending a certain school. Even private Christian school students cannot play. I'm still so very thankful that we homeschool. I'm thankful that Twelve shows signs of a thinker, not a herd follower.
|Thursday, July 18th, 2013|
|A Gecko Dildo?!? Thank You, Goodnight Universe
Since I've been on the East Coast, I've been calling Goodnight Universe
, the Chris Ramirez and Cole Young show that's sweeping the country, one dusty laptop at a time. Then again, maybe that should be dusting
the country. I called when we were at the Gingerbread House as well, but it was much earlier in the evening, i.e. at 10 p.m., when, I think, the Good Lord intended for Goodnight Universe to be on. But between 1 a.m. and 2 a.m., there's just way too much sleepiness in the Comic Mom head and I come up with things like a gecko dildo.
You see, Twelve is keeping a gecko for three or so months so that he can get his amphibians and reptiles merit badge. And when I started talking with GU about it, I realized that this poor gecko has only mammals surrounding him or her. Let's say her. It's an ugly beast to me, but perhaps, to another gecko, it would be not so very bad. Or perhaps it would be hot
. And so, while we are depriving this beast of other reptile company, why not allow it some physical pleasure. A gecko dildo would do the trick. I guess. I don't even like having this lizard thing in Villa Villekula, but then again, I don't want it to be lonely.
In more mammalian news, the boys have been to two Vacation Bible Schools since we got here. I have made an executive decision, with which SF agrees, to take a break from sports. We just finished soccer and we've had weeks on end of scout camp. And so, we're taking a break from sports for July and trying to figure out what we want to do. Well, that is, I'm
trying to figure out stuff. Nobody seems to be suffering from lack of organized sports activity for this month and I'm enjoying the relative lack of activities. On the other hand, we have room for stuff that pops up, such as this week's VBS.
I am so very thankful for a successful and safe trip across the country. Lots of people helped make this happen and for all their efforts and prayers, I am so grateful.
|Monday, July 8th, 2013|
|Carowinds and VBS
Our pediatrician, Dr. Paul Fleiss, is a wonderful doctor, but a Southerner he is not. When the boys got their physicals last month, Ten happened to be wearing a VBS t-shirt from a couple of years ago. He was wearing it, in fact, the day that he and his brothers were taped for the Conan O'Brien show. Dr. Fleiss, bless his non-Southern heart, asked Ten about this and of course, my son said "Vacation Bible School." Still a bit new to the concept, Dr. Fleiss asked Ten if he learned a lot. And Ten said that he did. So very true, that statement is. Tonight, the boys are attending VBS. They all were so thrilled with last night's VBS that they wanted to leave Carowinds early today to get back for things tonight. And get back they did. Ten came home last night quoting a Bible verse and Twelve saw a really cool chalk artist who illustrated a Bible story for the teen group.
So, yes, they have been learning a lot. And I've been having a little chill time for Mommy.
This morning, I followed the church bus (not the VBS church, but the church I grew up in) to Charlotte. The bus driver (B.D.) was not slow, which I totally appreciated. We got down there pretty darn quickly. And nobody got a ticket.