You've Got A Friend In Me

It has been a weird kind of week.  I've been kind of down and depressed and not my normal snarky, sarcastic self at all.  I supposedly "got" the writing gig that I went out for last month, but it is an "as needed" kind of thing, and apparently I have not been needed yet.  Add to that the back-to-school madness, the fund raising insanity, the job hunt to get back closer to Alabama and my funk from a few weeks ago has not dissipated.  It has more like fermented into a grand funk. I've blamed everything from the weather to the absence of the beloved nicotine, but the truth is that whatever the root cause is, I've been off my game.

Last night, I made a Starbucks run around 9:00 because my mother-in-law is here and she love Starbucks and is willing to buy me one too as long as I go and get her one.  While I was there in line, in walks this girl? Woman?  I couldn't really tell which would be appropriate since it appeared that she was wearing the entire Walgreen's cosmetic department on her face, but I could definitely tell that she was female.  Her hair made her appear a good 6 inches taller than her thigh-high black leather pirate boots could on their own, and she was wearing a corset and a very short mini skirt.  Keep in mind, this was Tuesday night, and we were no where near a club of any kind -- we were in the corner shop of a Kroger strip mall.  I looked at her, paid for my coffees and left.  I didn't even raise my eyebrows at her or make any snarky comments in my head like I normally would have like "Excuse me, but your dignity seems to have fallen off somewhere; did you perhaps leave it at home with your self respect?"  Nothing.  So after I got in the car, it struck me that I had not so much shown restraint, as I had just not really had any 'snark' to restrain.  So in an attempt to rectify my apathy, I pulled up Facebook on my phone and typed out a status about her outfit:  "If you're wearing a ton of makeup, a corset top, a mini-skirt, and thigh-high pirate boots at 9:00 on a Tuesday, in Starbucks, I'm just gonna go ahead and assume you're a hooker."

I felt a little better.  So I decided to come home and work on blog stuff.  Let's face it, I have been a major slacker when it comes to my blog lately.  I'm posting once a week or so, and usually its because something has effected me so deeply on an emotional level that I just need to talk about it (ie; 9/11, my friend's son battling cancer, etc.).  When I checked email for the blog I half expected there to be another email from that Tara person from last Spring chastising me for not being funny enough.  There wasn't by the way, just a bunch of "Wow you have a great blog!  Let us advertise on it and we'll pay you 0.0005% of the money we make!" emails, a couple of "Hey could you tell your readers to follow MY blog?" emails, and a request from the awesome ladies at The Third Boob wanting to repost my "Fundraisers SUCK" post.  (Which I gladly agreed to -- I'll let y'all know when that's gonna happen as soon as I know!) 

I also got several emails from people asking me to promote their books, websites, or products. Some of these are things that I think that at least some of you may be interested in, and I may pass them along. Others....not so much.  I have no problem pimping out other blogs, sites, products, etc. if I think that they are worth my time and yours -- either because they are useful, informative, funny or all of the above -- but I will not promote someone just because they are following me.  This isn't middle school. 

So let's establish some guidelines:

Some random person who creeps up on me and says "Hey, I'm following your blog now, so will you tell your readers to come read my blog???!"  Yeah, it probably ain't gonna happen.  Not to mention that these people have usually written 2 posts and the first one was all about how they are going to start blogging.  I will, however, make fun of them.....keep that in mind before you ask me to pimp your blog. 

I do not promote political agendas on my blog unless they are of my own design, so don't ask me to add a link to the Tea Party, the Republican Party, the Democratic Party, or any other party unless it is an ACTUAL party and not a political group.  I am a registered voter -- I am registered as INDEPENDENT -- not as a member of the Independent Party. 

Also, if you are a marketer of products for babies, children, mothers, or families that believes in the whole "Donna Reed" image of what family life is all about, you probably should have read my blog before you asked me to promote your website/blog/book/magazine/product.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the whole "Leave it to Beaver" IDEAL -- but truth is, most families are less "Norman Rockwell" and more "Malcolm in the Middle."  (I channel Lois on a daily basis and am proud to say that I have even been compared to her.)

After checking all those emails, I decided that often times the best way to get out of a funk is to do something nice for someone else.  So today (and possibly tomorrow), my task is going to be to sift through all of these requests and figure out if any of them have merit.  Barring some freak thing that my children may do (and we all know that this is a real possibility) my next post will be all about these other blogs, products, books, and websites that I think you guys might be interested in. 

So if you WANTED to ask me to pimp for you but haven't gotten up the nerve yet, DO IT.  Do it today. Do it RIGHT NOW.  If it goes well, I may do this type of thing once a month, or once a quarter, or once a year -- whatever works.

“We secure our friends not by accepting favors but by doing them” -- Thucydides

I Will Never Forget

The attacks of September 11, 2001, reshaped not only our physical landscape, but also the face of the nation and the course of history. Our lives and the lives of generations to come -- not just in New York or Washington, D.C. or the United States, but around the globe -- were changed forever.

The date, September 11, (which also happens to be both my husband's and my father's birthdays) will for me, forever evoke recollections of unimaginable tragedy.  The memories from that day conjure unbelievable images of lives callously lost and brutally cut short and of unspeakable horror and sorrow that were seared into the hearts and minds of all Americans.  Many have compared it to Pearl Harbor, and I believe that the effect the events of September 11, 2001 had on us as a nation are very similar -- we wept as a nation united by our love of this great country and ignored the things that had separated us like race, politics, and religion.  We were all Americans.  But there was a glaring difference between the attacks on Pearl Harbor in 1945 and the attacks on 9/11/2001.  Advances in technology, media and communication, meant that we all saw the horror with our own eyes.


Ten years ago, I was a first time mom, pregnant with my oldest, living in Georgia just north of Atlanta, and running late to my ultrasound appointment on that Tuesday morning.  My husband was coming from work and was meeting me there.   At about 10 minutes until 9:00, I was about to get onto I-85, heading towards Atlanta, when my husband called my cell phone and told me to change my radio station from the classic rock that I always listened to and find a news station because a plane had just hit the World Trade Center in New York.  I peppered him with questions as I held the phone with my shoulder, held my coffee in my left hand, fiddled with the radio buttons with my right hand, and drove. 

"Oh my god. Was it on purpose or on accident?!"
"I don't know it just happened."
"Was it a big plane or a little plane?!"
"I don't know.  It literally JUST happened."
"Where on the tower did it hit?  Like, at the top?"
"Sweetie, I am in my car.  I did not see it.  Let me let you go so I can listen."

I later learned that the plane that had hit the North Tower at 8:46 was American Airlines, Flight 11, and had taken off from Boston that morning headed to L.A.  By the time we had signed in at the doctor's office, the second plane, United Flight 175, also out of Boston, and headed for L.A. had hit the South Tower.  We learned while waiting in that office that the planes were not, as was first hoped, small, single engine Cessna, but they were commercial passenger planes full of people.  America was under attack. 

We were still in the doctor's office when the Pentagon was struck by a third plane, that we would later learn was Flight 77 out of Virginia, also bound for L.A.  When that happened, I began frantically trying to call my parents.  I knew that my dad was flying home from Washington, D.C. at some point that week and I couldn't remember when.  I HAD to make sure that my dad was on the ground.  I HAD to know that he was not in Washington.  Most importantly, I HAD to know that he was SAFE.  But the cellular network for the entire country was overloaded.  Calls would not go through.  It was several hours after I got home before I had confirmation that everyone was fine.  But they were.  I was one of the lucky ones who had not lost any friends or family on that day.

But there were other planes missing.

It is important to point out that even though it was apparent that our country was under attack, there were so very many unknown facts.  Add to that the state of shock that everyone was in and you will understand why after my appointment, I went into Atlanta to go to work.  When I reached my office, no one was working.  Everyone was glued to the TV in the conference room, or frantically searching on their computers for information.  The towers had collapsed, Flight 93 out of New Jersey, bound for San Fransisco had crashed into a field in Pennsylvania and the first theories about other possible targets began to emerge.  Atlanta was on several of those lists.  Without permission and without even asking, I gathered my things and left the office.  My house wasn't but about 20 miles north of where I was in Norcross, but it was 20 miles farther from Atlanta than I was now, and I was getting as far away from any possible target as I could.  I went home to my husband and sat for the next 2 days transfixed in front of the TV watching the replay of the attacks as new footage was discovered, listening to politicians and newscasters speculate and pontificate, and crying.  There was a lot of crying.

There was also anger.  I vividly remember images of people burning the American flag, dancing in the streets, and celebrating this tragedy.  I remember feeling hatred towards them.  I am not proud of that.  But I could not believe that these people -- men, women, and even children -- hated us so much that they would rejoice in the deaths of thousands of innocent people.  Then as the facts of that day came out, I got more and more angry.  I wanted revenge on the people that had planned this attack, those who had funded it, those who had sent 19 men to kill 2,977 people, all but 55 of them (all military personnel at the Pentagon) were civilians.  The victims ranged in age from 2 to 85, and not one of them deserved to die.  In New York alone, an estimated 91,000 police, firefighters and other first responders helped with the search and rescue efforts in the wake of the attacks that day.  On the morning of the attacks, a total of 411 emergency workers who responded to the scene died as they tried to rescue people and fight fires. The New York City Fire Department lost 341 firefighters and 2 paramedics.  The New York City Police Department lost 23 officers.  The Port Authority Police Department lost 37 officers.  Eight emergency medical technicians and paramedics from private emergency medical services units were killed.  At the pentagon, brave men in uniform ran into literal infernos to pull out victims trapped by the plane and the debris.  Because of these people and their willingness to run into the danger, countless lives were saved.  They were not victims of the attack but rather they chose to risk their lives to save others because it was their job, because they could, because it was simply who they were.  They were heroes.

There were also stories of hope.  Stories of how fate, or circumstances, or divine intervention or pure luck had resulted in survival that the media vigorously reported with the hopes that they could somehow help to counter the sadness that had settled over us as a nation and we seized them and retold them as our own over dinner, over water coolers, over phone lines and emails.  The 18 people who survived in what became known as the miracle of Stairway B, the first responder who survived because he was running late and had to take his 3 year old daughter to pre-school, the chef who was picking up his new glasses instead of prepping his kitchen at the top of the World Trade Center, or  the passengers of Flight 93 who sacrificed themselves and saved countless others at their intended target with 2 little words "Let's roll." 

This morning, when I get on my knees and say my prayers, I will pray for all of those who lost loved ones on that day. I will pray for all of those who still carry the engulfing fear of that deadly day. I will pray for all of us who live our lives in a world that was changed forever.   Everyone should take a few moments of their lives on Sunday to simply remember the tragedy. Whether it is through a moment of silence, prayer or even simply watching the television, all are valid and important in their own way.  And we should  always remember that we were attacked that day ten years ago not for what we do wrong but for what we do right. Remember the spirit of that day -- the day America showed what makes us a great people and a great nation; the day the true character of our nation triumphed over unspeakable evil; the day that freedom and democracy prevailed yet again over oppression and tyranny.

We can never forget 9/11/2001.

Ever.

Fundraisers SUCK

It is fundraising time at my kids' school again.  Crap.  So my kids came in all hyped up from the fundraising kick-off pep rally at school this afternoon ready to take on the world with their little selling kits and product flyers.  I really hated to do it, but I had to crush their little fundraising spirits.  I sat them both down and I taught them something.  The way that the school has represented this fundraiser to my kids, they believe that the world will end if they don't sell at least 10 items and that the prizes are priceless artifacts obtainable only through this contest (when you can buy them by the gross from Oriental Trading Company).  I let them know that at the absolute most, that $12.00 item will earn the school $9.00, that the "rewards" could mostly be bought at the dollar store, and that selling things is VERY hard. (I know, I did it for a living before I had kids.)

Fundraising is absolutely one of the most asinine practices in public schools today in my opinion.  There are 2 flyers -- the first one has food items ranging from the $11.00 Funnel Cake Mix to the $18.00 for 5 Frozen Mini Pizzas.  Then they have plastic cups.  Yes, plastic "tumblers" with regional sports teams on them for $15.00 each.  Then on the front of the fundraising packet is a list, complete with enticing photos, of all of the "rewards" given for selling the items.  If you sell one item you get a plastic lei.  Yep, ONE plastic lei.  If you sell 5 items you get a pair of neon sunglasses AND a plastic lei.  10 items will get you that lei, the sunglasses, AND a plastic LED flying toy.  20 items gets you all of that AND a light-up rubber ring and a rubber digital watch.  It goes on and on like that until you get to the 80 item level where you can get a remote control helicopter (in addition to all of the cheapo plastic crap from the previous levels).  But if you sell 100 items, you get all that AND an electric drum set.  It keeps going up to an iPad.  You have to sell 500 items to get that though.  So just out of curiosity, I did a little research and came up with the following chart and shared it with my kids to get the point across:

If You Sell          Worth A Minimum Of           We'll Give You A Reward Worth A Maximum Of

     1 item                           $11.00                                                                 $0.15
     5 items                         $55.00                                                                 $0.98
   10 items                       $110.00                                                                 $1.46
   20 items                       $220.00                                                                 $2.78
   30 items                       $330.00                                                                 $4.26
   40 items                       $440.00                                                                 $8.97
   50 items                       $550.00                                                                $13.57
   60 items                       $660.00                                                                $19.96
   70 items                       $770.00                                                                $26.33
   80 items                       $880.00                                                                $58.64
  100 items                   $1,100.00                                                               $93.78
  150 items                   $1,650.00                                                               $263.77
  200 items                   $2,200.00                                                               $317.89
  500 items                   $5,500.00                                                               $816.88

Does anyone else see how ridiculous this is??  Even if the cost of the items that they're selling have a profit margin that makes selling them in the first place worth the effort, most people do not want the stuff your kids are selling and will gladly give you a fraction of that cost just to get you to leave them alone. I know I would.  My kids are not going to do it.  I am going to tell them that if they want to raise money for the school, they can collect money and turn it in.  I will call their relatives and say "Hey, it's fundraising time.  Do you want to buy some over-priced crappy food items that you don't really want or give me a $5.00 or $10.00 check per kid made out to the school?"  As far as their "incentive" program, I am going to give my kids $0.15 on the dollar that they raise, and they'll STILL come out better.  And so will the school. 

I get that offering the kids incentives gets them to sell more and that it teaches them that hard work is rewarded, but why don't we give them REAL rewards?  Why don't we sell stuff that people want at prices that make sense AND make money for the school?  I think that teaching the kids the value of a dollar (yes, even at the tender age of 5 or 6), AND letting them raise money for their school would be awesome.  But for now, does anyone want some funnel cake mix for $11.00?

Just PRAY

I have a friend that is losing her son. 

He is 10 years old and was diagnosed with stage 4 neuroblastoma when he was 5.  I cannot imagine facing the death of a child. Staring it down, day after day, watching him get sick, having your hopes raised when he feels better, and feeling his pain right along with him when he gets sick again.  They have been doing this for FIVE years.  Things have been bad before, but now they seem to be going downhill faster than ever.  The cancer is gaining momentum.  The chemo isn't working, the meds aren't working, and he's in so much pain that he can't walk at times.  All she and her husband can do is watch it happen. 

God. Can you imagine? My friend is watching her baby suffer, and although he knows exactly what is happening, he doesn't understand why it is happening to him. And you and your husband can't explain to him or his little brother why it is happening to him because you don't understand it either.  You are all terrified and no one has answers.  You want to fight but you're running out of weapons to use and the doctors are telling you that there isn't anything else that they can do but to "make him comfortable." 

Their lives consist of regular visits to St. Jude's, doses of steroids, side effects, mood swings, chemo, experimental drugs, trial applications and rejections, and loss of function of limbs only to regain them the next day.

Sometimes. 

Sometimes things seem to be going well and you allow yourself to forget the cancer, forget the inevitable that the doctors keep telling you about, and just slip right into a sense of normalcy.  But in the back of your mind....in the back of your mind it it ALWAYS there.  If your child has a pain or an ache you always wonder if it is the cancer.  If his dinner doesn't sit well, you wonder if it is the cancer.  You live in a constant state of fear.  You exist on the edge of panic. 

As a mother, your first thought in the morning is of your kids, and they are your last thoughts as you drift off to sleep at night.  The mother of a child with cancer is no different, but her thoughts are clouded with fear, worry, pain, and uncertainty.  My friend is an amazing woman.  I would have crumbled years ago.  My faith would have been shaken, possibly destroyed.  Not her.  She is literally the STRONGEST person I know.  Her faith in God is unwavering.  She is a woman of prayer.

Please join me in praying for Melissa Thomason, her husband Andy, their son Adam, and their son Evan, who is fighting this horrible disease.  I believe in the power of prayer.  Pray for a miracle.  Pray for strength to deal what comes.  Pray for peace to accept God's will.  Just Pray.  Please.

**Also, if any of you are (or know) State of Alabama teachers, Melissa is going on catastrophic leave as of September 6th. She has used up her leave caring for her old son and could use any and all leave donations. Her job is NOT something she should have to worry about when she is caring for her son.

EDIT:

I found the following couple of paragraphs that I wrote about Melissa a little more than a year ago for a class I taught at church, and I thought I'd share it here.

"She handles all of this with such an immense beauty of faith and strength -- I am in awe of her resolve and the persistence that she musters daily to be diligent in her walk with God while being EVERYTHING to Evan. She is his chauffeur, his nurse, his activities coordinator, and his mom. She never puts him in harm's way and she never lets him make excuses. She always has the knowledge of what is going on inside his little body in the back of her mind, and yet she still allows him to be a kid and she ENJOYS him. As a mother, I cannot imagine being able to do that -- I would want to keep him safe even if that meant never letting him go. She is someone that I have known for over 20 years and ever since I was 14, there were talents and traits that she had that I WISH I did, and the way that she handles her child in the face of this awful disease has revealed more of her amazing character, and made me want to be more like her than I did as an adolescent. 

Faith is something that I strive for in my own life and when I struggle with the day to day, and I remember what her day to day is like, I am humbled by her faith and her strength.  I hope that she knows that regardless of how we have moved on in our lives from the intimate friends that we once were, I think of her and Evan every day. I pray for God to heal him, to keep him happy, and to comfort him when he faces all of the things that no child should have to deal with. I pray for her -- I pray for her peace of mind, for her strength, and for her faith to continue to sustain her. And I give God thanks -- I thank Him that Evan has been able to have the quality of life that he has so far, that the disease has been so slow to progress, and that he has her and Andy as parents to help him through this."

(Sigh) More Voting (Sorry!)

So you may have noticed these new little badge things over there on the right above the "Vote For Me On Top Mommy Blogs!" button.  They do not in anyway negate the "Top Mommy Blog" ranking thing, by the way, so go ahead and get THAT voting over with please.

Apparently, I have been nominated for 3 Blogger's Choice Awards. Yay me!  I'm moving up in the world!  Who knew that after the sneaky hate spiral yesterday that all I needed was to be nominated for some sort of an award to make me feel better?  Voting is a hassle though, so I am a little bit worried about the results. I am up to 8 whole votes in each of the categories but 1 of those 8 votes is mine & 1 is from my husband.  So that means that I am solely responsible for 1/4 of my current votes.  I do not have any idea what if any prize is involved in this contest, and as much as I think it would be cool to win, it would be even cooler to not suck and be embarrassed.  Unlike the "Top Mommy Blog" thing that is a vote every day kind of deal, this is (from what I can tell) a one and done thing.  However, to vote, you have to go here: http://bloggerschoiceawards.com/ and register to get a user name, and then you have to find me in each of the 3 categories that I am nominated in: Best Parenting Blog, Best Humor Blog, and...um...er, Hottest Mommy Blogger. (Hangs head in embarrassment)  With 8 whole votes, I am just about 280 off the lead in humor, 200 off the lead in parenting, and 205 off the lead in the "Hottest Mommy Blogger" category.   And since I do not know if there ARE 200+ of you guys reading this since I know some of you follow by email and some follow anonymously, please ask your friends to vote too. 

Now, see I really kind of wish that I hadn't known about these nominations because now there is all of this pressure to be funny about parenting and to look "hot" while doing it.  I am not even sure that is possible.  I haven't shaved my legs in a week....can you be "hot" with prickly legs??!  Should I go put on some make-up?  Maybe I'll at least comb my hair or something.  And really, my kids have not done anything "blog-worthy" in the past 2 days.  They have done some funny things, but nothing to make an entire post out of.  I feel like when I used to get hiccups in Sunday School and the teacher made me stand in front of the class and commanded me to hiccup.  I couldn't do it.  I feel the same way now -- like I am incapable of being funny. 

The husband says that it is because I am trying to force a post.  Usually when I write a post it is because I have something funny to tell and it just happens.  I rattle it of like I am talking to my friends.  And now that I WANT to be funny, I cannot make it happen.  He's probably right.  (He usually is, but don't tell him.)  So this is not really a post as it is a "How To Vote" tutorial.  Seriously, go and vote.  All you need is an email address and I REALLY don't want to be near the bottom of the list.  And who knows, maybe by tomorrow my kids will have peed on something or flashed a neighbor or volunteered me to be their room mom and I'll have something funny to write about.

Not a Good Day

This was not the post I intended to share today, but the one I was working on isn't finished and I am not in the mood to do it.  I have the mother of all "sneaky-hate-spirals" going on today so this post fits my mood a little better.  I will return to my normal hilarity next time -- I have some emails from people that NEED to be discussed, some need to be ridiculed, but not today.  Today I am in a pissy mood.

Did you ever feel like the world is against you?  See, I knew that I wasn't the only one.  Don't get me wrong, in general I have an awesome life -- I have a husband who loves me and would do just about anything for me, 4 healthy and happy kids, most months we can pay all of our bills and have a little left over for an occasional treat.  But lately....I dunno, the little things have been piling up and making me feel annoyed....like a sneaky-hate-spiral snowball effect.

In case you're new here, let me re-cap a few accepted facts for you:  My husband works a job with crap hours where they (in my opinion) treat him like a second class citizen even though he is awesome at his job.  The money is good, but that is about the only positive aspect of his job -- horrible hours, poor morale, and sub-par benefits.  We live in a rented house in Texas 13 1/2 hours from our closest relatives in Alabama.  We get to go "home" twice a year -- once at Christmas for about 2 weeks and once in the Summer for about 2 months.  We really miss Alabama.  We hate Texas.  Our kids are in a nutshell awesome little deviants who keep things interesting.  I am a stay-at-home mom who wants to get paid to write, but so far all I do is write this blog and an occasional children's story and I have had zero luck getting published.  I spend my days cleaning up half-eaten Pop Tarts and refereeing fights over who called who a "poophead" and making meals that prompt at least one kid to ask for peanut butter and jelly.  Because of the husband's work hours (10-12 hours a day, 5-7 days a week) I do a lot of the household stuff on my own.  I am constantly trolling job sites for a "better" job for him that is closer to our families.  This last fact is one of the things that has me feeling like nothing is going our way.

My husband works in manufacturing.  Specifically, he works in Food and Beverage Manufacturing.  His official job title is "Packaging Team Lead III" which is just another way of saying "Packaging Supervisor."  This is the first problem.  In this industry, there is no standard for job titles or duties.  What is a supervisor at this company is a manager at another and something completely different at another.  These positions may all sound the same but they all pay drastically different salaries.  This makes it a little difficult when searching for a new job.  With 4 kids and a wife that wants to stay home and write in her PJ's, there is a certain level of income that has to be maintained.  A $40,000 difference in salary isn't workable regardless of the difference in cost of living.  Also frustrating is some employers insistence upon certain degrees -- my husband has a bachelor's degree, but it is in Spanish and not manufacturing.  He is very good at his job and has been doing it for nearly 13 years.  Before that, he owned his own business.  He is smart, hard working, and dependable and he's willing to relocate to anywhere within a 200 mile radius of North Alabama.  Finding another job closer to our families should NOT be this difficult.  I get frustrated with requirements like "MUST have industry specific experience."  I mean, I get it.  It is ideal to have a manager who is familiar with your industry.  But isn't it better to have a GREAT manager and spend a couple of weeks familiarizing him with your industry than to get a mediocre manager who knows a lot about your industry?  After all, before working at his last company my husband knew nothing about sausage and before working at his current company he knew noting about beer.  He can learn the product -- he knows people.  He is an excellent manager who can accomplish what his superiors want done without pissing off his crews.  When he left his last job, his crew pitched in their own money to get him a going away present.  They collected enough money to buy him a very nice leather jacket and gloves.  This was a crew of less than 20 guys who were not wealthy by any one's standards -- many of them were immigrants.  That is how well my husband was liked and respected.  So one thing that has me down of late is the job hunt.

Another thing that is annoying to me is our inability to accomplish some fairly simple financial goals.  We are debt free.  We own our cars outright and we rent our house here in Texas.  But the cars that we own outright are falling apart and despite setting aside money every month we have not been able to save up enough to replace them.  I do not want a NEW van, just a newER van.  But it is a constant dance of two steps forward and three steps back.  We will save up a good $3-4,000 and then have a repair bill of $1,500.  Or the husband will get kidney stones, or one of the kids needs tubes in their ears, or SOMEHTHING that we hadn't planned on will happen and we will have to dip into that money to take care of it.  It's great that we are able to take care of those things without incurring debt, but my van is going to need a new transmission soon and I'd really like to replace it before that happens.  Just this Summer, I had to spend about $1,000 on tires and other repairs on my van.  And we will have to replace the husband's 1997 Buick soon as well.  Good times....

I also wish we had more family time -- more time and more money to do things together.  We have never been on a vacation as a family except for when our parents have taken us somewhere.  We wanted to take the kids to San Antonio for a long weekend, but we don't know when we will have the money or when the husband will be able to get the time off.  We'd like to do things like take our kids bowling, or to play laser tag, or putt-putt  but the same problems apply -- when can dad go with us and how much is it going to cost?  It is a good week when we can go to church together, so finding time for extra activities is very difficult.  I feel like our kids miss out on a lot of the fun of childhood because we cannot afford it and because dad is constantly working to afford the basics.  I know that there are many things that we can do that don't cost anything, and we do try to do some of those things, but it is difficult for ME to do those things with the kids alone.  Also, many of the things that are free and fun are outside activities and when it is 112 degrees, you just can't be outside in that very long.  Frustrating isn't an adequate word.

So, yeah, I'm in a pretty bad mood.  I know I have a lot to be thankful for.  I know that I am very blessed.  I get that.  But I am just ready for something to go our way.  If I played the lottery, I'd say its time for my numbers to hit.  I promise to work on getting over this funk and post something more light and comical tomorrow.  Today I will wallow in my self-pity.  And maybe take a nap.

Guess What?

You'd be amazed how often I'm wrong when people say guess what.
And by people, I mean my kids.  I have been in a death-match battle with a nasty virus for the last few days.  This is always a great time for my kids to play the "Guess What?" game with me.  I have spent the past several days lying in my bed (I had to be within a certain number of steps from the bathroom to avoid hurling all over the place).  Since Thursday night, I have had some very interesting "Guess What?" moments with my kids and while I can't share them all, I thought I'd share one per kid that sort of defines them -- and it is a nice little in-between post while I am working on the one for tomorrow.

The William moment:
"Hey mom, Guess What?"
"I dunno, what?"
"I was watching Star Wars: The Clone Wars on the DVR, and blah, blah, blah. And then Gues What? General Grievious blah, blah, blah.  And on the next episode, blah, blah, blah...."
He recounted 3 whole episodes.  I lay there all clammy and pale listening to him until I had to jump up at one point, push past him, and hurl.  At which point he looked at me and said "Hey, are you sick or something?" 
As I brushed my teeth and stared at him in disbelief, he went back to recounting the Star Wars show.  I have no idea what he was talking about.  But his compassion was overwhelming. 

The Bella moment:
"Hey mom?  Guess What?"
"I dunno know, what?"
"Cooper threw up upsatairs and I am NOT cleaning that up.  Do you and him have the same thing?"
This was of course followed by me dragging my butt upstairs to clean up dog puke that seemed to be a result of the dog eating Lucky Charms cereal that someone no doubt spilt onto the floor.  While the act of cleaning this up made me sick in a way that had nothing to do with my virus, I was at least able to take comfort in knowing that I would not have to clean up the spilled Lucky Charms since Cooper had obviously already handled that.  Again, the concern that my kids have for their mother really touches your heart.

The Lorelei moment:
"Hey mom!  Guess What?"
"I dunno know, what?"
"I am a big girl now because I sleep in underwear without pee-peeing in it and I can climb the door all the way to the ceiling and I'm not tired did you know that mom? I'm sorry your sick, mom.  But Guess What?  I'm not sick am I mom?  Nope, 'cause big girls don't get sick do they mom?  Just mom's get sick.  When I grow up I hope I don't get sick like you mom, 'cause I don't like being sick. Do you like being sick mom?  Well, at least you get to sleep a lot huh. mom?  Can I see the shots in your butt, mom?  I HATE shots.  Don't you hate shots, mom?  Why did you let them give you shots mom?  When I get big I'm never getting shots anymore.  I'm gonna lay down with you mom, okay?  Do you like it when I lay down with you?  Just don't get me sick, okay mom?...."  Occasionally she'd stop for breath, but she rarely let me answer any of her thousand and twelve questions.  Still, she was trying to keep me company....

The Jackson moment:
"Mom, Guess What?"
"I dunno know, what?"
"You're sick."
Well, thank you Captain Obvious.  But he did follow up this profound statement by laying down to cuddle with me and he promptly fell asleep.