Nothing Personal, I Hate Everyone.

Imagine being only 29 inches tall and weighing 22 pounds.  You sit in a little basket on wheels as your mom pushes you around a very boring store.  You are minding your business eating your Honey Bees and drinking water.  Then out of nowhere comes this huge face.  A face with a psycho’s smile and high pitched voice.  You scream, because it is all you have right now, but it only intrigues this face, more.  The face keeps coming at you with a bunch of words you don’t understand and the more you scream the more the face pursues you.  What does the face want?  Why is it hell bent on spewing crap from it’s gaping hole about 6 inches from your face?  You keep screaming and start kicking your legs.  All you want is for the face to go away, so you can get back to your snack and get the hell out of the store.  Finally, your mother steps in and tells the face to back off, although in a nice way.  However, you wonder why your mother is constantly blaming you (“You are so cranky”), instead of punching the face and running away?  Maybe because she is just as confused about the face as you. 

Once again, someone tried to talk to Sam and he welcomed them with a kick to the groin and a blood curdling scream.  The problem is that it is really starting to annoy me.  I fear that one day I am going to kick and scream at someone myself.  I try to be nice.  I feel bad for putting the blame on Sam.  The problem is that I know that people love babies, want to talk to them and want a reaction.  I like that my kids draw people to them, but it has to be on their terms.  Amber is fine with talking to people; she has been since she was a baby.  Sam is more of a, this is my personal space, “DO NOT ENTER” type person.  Both are fine, but it is hard to explain to every young uterus, grandma, old man filled with advice about hats and cold weather that your adorable little boy is just not a people kind of person.  I guess they will get the picture once his legs get a little longer.  Or maybe I will just get a shirt that says: “Approach at your own risk.  I have rabies and not afraid to bite.” 

Note:  Yeah, it is the last day of NaOGoBloYoSelf.  It wasn’t as much fun as last year and I don’t think I got out of it what I was suppose to.  Okay, what other people said it was suppose to be about.  Maybe next year.  I find I do better when I write on my own timeline, not under the pressure of a clock. 

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I Like to Call it, Normal.

Kind of Crunchy Mama tagged me for a Weird Meme and since we have 2 days left in NaBloPoorMe, I am going to do it.  Hey, I made it this far and only bored you most of the time.  So here it goes 8 weird things about me, but I call normal.  It has been proven that I am sane; it is the rest of the world that is batshit nuts.

1.  I cook things that I don’t like.  Just recently, I made sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, and green bean casserole all of which I won’t eat.  I did eat the green bean casserole, because those was so much cheese on top that I couldn’t resist.  It turns out I like it, but not enough to eat all the leftovers.  I can wait until next Thanksgiving.  Now, my husband is requesting either stuffed mirlitons or mirliton casserole.  I have heard of  mirlitons, but never saw one or ate one before I met my husband.  I think I tried it while we were out once, but didn’t care for it. I have seen them at the grocery store, because I was looking for them.  It is weird when you look for stuff you tend to find it.  This Christmas I will grant my husband’s request and make him something with mirliton in it.   

2.  I like to really ham up my New Orleans accent, which don’t believe I have on a normal basis, when I am out and, especially, when I am discipling my kids.  I get a kick out of it; it leads a type of “taking you out to the wood shed” kind of tone without actually taking someone to the wood shed.

3.  This is hard, because truly I don’t think I do anything weird.  Sure I say weird things, like when Amber cried because I forgot her in the car while we ran in to hurry up and change, I told her to dry it up, “It wasn’t like I left you at the mall”.  Or when Amber wouldn’t stop bugging me that she felt hungry, after we had just eaten a brunch that would have had a hippo rolling around on the ground and looking for a nap, I told her that feelings do go away.  Really, others tell me these are weird or laugh, but I am saying them because they are true.  Amber should be happy that I am not so wrapped up in the process of shopping that she was forgotten in the mall parking lot or, worse, at the mall to live life at a kiosk.  And feelings do go away, but what I forgot to add is that they are usually replaced with other feelings.  Just ask me when my husband leaves his shoes on the counter.

4.  I have found that I am more regiment than I would like to admit.  When my laptop was not connecting to the Internet, because some little Gremlin had come in at night to mess with me, I couldn’t read my blogs while on my husband’s laptop. They were not in the order in which I am acustom to reading them.  I tried to read them from my blogroll, on my blog, but I just couldn’t do it.  This is not how I read them everyday and it made me increasingly frustrated that I had to close the computer.  This goes for most what I do on a daily basis, if the routine changes my world starts to crumble.

5.  I have a theme song to my life.  It changes, constantly, and right now I don’t have one.  I am hoping that something pops up soon, because I need that track playing in my head.

6.  I don’t like outside.  I use to play outside all the time as a kid.  Now, I would much prefer to look at outside through a nice clean window from my clean living room that remains a comfortable temperature.  Nature is not for me, so don’t ask me to go camping or any place where my comfort zone will be compromised.  I did that kind of stuff while in college, I am an adult and my world must be orderly and comfortable.  My dream would be to own a horse ranch, where I do none of the work, never go outside, but watch the horses from inside my climate controlled home.  Maybe, my dream is to live next to a horse ranch?

7.  I think I would move back to New Orleans even if it was underwater.  During Katrina, I kept thinking we could still live there, it would be just like a bunch of little islands.  And instead of my SUV, I would just use a pirogue.  Then I wondered how do you get kids to sit still in a pirogue and if I could still use the carseats.  This is how most of my thought processes go.  I, usually, keep this kind of stuff to myself.

8.  I fear I have disappointed you with this list, because really it isn’t all that weird.  So, I will leave you with this scary tidbit:  I still think there is some scary serial killer living in my attic and it doesn’t help that I am watching episodes of Dexter back to back.

Still want to be friends?

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In My Opinion: Healthcare

This seems to be the hot topic of our upcoming Presidental election, but it seems a lot of people are missing a few points.

I have expressed my hate for Michael Moore, before, but damn if this movie (that I haven’t seen) making waves.  I would urge you all to find and watch the show 20/20 did on the topic of universal healthcare.  I think they gave a pretty fair and balanced overview of the topic.  They even talk to Michael Moore and I think they brought up some very interesting points, like maybe if he dropped a few hundred pounds he, too, could live a little longer like the Canadians he keeps comparing us to. 

I have nothing against Canada or it’s people, but I don’t think that their healthcare or universal healthcare is the right choice for America.  First, we broke away from England because we were ruled in everything we did by a country an ocean away.  We wanted to have the freedom to practice our religion, develop a government that would not tax us to death and be involved in every aspect of our lives.  I know there is more to the American Revolution than that statement, but what I hear most is that Americans what the government out of their lives, but then they expect the government to take care of them.  You can’t have it both ways.

This brings me to my second point, the creation of the welfare state.  When it was started the purpose was to help Americans, currently living through the Depression, get back on their feet.  At presence, the system is now worked until it is bled dry and many believe it is their right to get money to their lives from the government.  Again, I have nothing against people on welfare or food stamps.  Food stamps helped us, and many others in the Katrina affected area, in those months shortly after the storm.  I believe that these programs should be a stepping stone to people supporting themselves, but we have generations of people happy to stay on the program with no end in sight.  

America has become a nation of spenders instead of savers.  We have learned from a couple of experiences, Katrina being one, that this is not a smart way to live your life.  We feel that there will be no problem  and the government will take care of us.  The problem is that the government has a big say in how they take care of us.  My problem with this is that the government took 5 days to get water to the Superdome.  After the debacle that was FEMA during Katrina, I don’t think I am comfortable with having the government telling me how they will be taking care of my medical issues. 

I want the control in my and my family’s healthcare.  I haven’t always felt this way.  I use to be happy with having my employer taking out my taxes and paying for my healthcare, then I married a self-employed man and learned that when you are paying you have more control.  I like that.  We currently have a high deductible insurance plan.  We have had a high premium plan, that costed us, as family of 3, over $1000 a month.  We were still responsible for dental, vision and prescriptions, but we were able to see the doctor for only $20 a visit.  Now, we have a much lower premium a month and a health savings account where we can draw out money for medical expenses.  Sure we have to pay for full doctor visits, prescriptions, dental, and vision until we meet our deductible, but once it is met we go to a 80/20 split.  Still it is not the best plan, because I do have to deal with the insurance company, and I hate dealing with the insurance company.

In my view, the best plan would be to take all those premimums I pay every month (and I am talking, car, home, fire, flood, medical etc)and put them in a Moneymarket account.  Our money could earn money and when we need it,  there would be no fighting anyone to get it.  In no way am I for the insurance companies and I have had my fair share of arguments with them.  At least once a year, for 4 years when my premimums would go up about a $100 a month, until I just accepted they were going to bleed us dry without a clear possiblity that they will ever pay out if needed.  The point being that if I had saved those premimums when the time came I could take my money, fix whatever and move on with my life.  I wouldn’t have to spend precious time standing in lines, waiting on hold and trying to figure out, obivious mumbo jumbo that was meant to confuse us.

Many will say that it is easy to save when you make a lot of money.  Well, first no matter how much money you make you are never safe from a finiancial disaster.  Second, no matter how much money you make you can save, but when you save you give up other immediate graftication items.  I am not sure Americans are ready to make that scarfice.  And let’s face it, most people are not so unlucky that tradegy strikes them all the time.  The last major hurricane to hit our area, before Katrina, was over 40 years ago.  Imagine the amount of money people could have saved during that time, in case of a major hurricane.  Sure we never know when a disaster will strike, but as we have witnessed even with insurance and government help we are still left broken and dissatisfied.  I think we should do more to take care of ourselves and if the government happens to help than we can count it as lagniappe. 

And if anyone still believes, even after the California wildfires, that the government can handle a major natural, or otherwise, disaster I think you should come down and talk to a few people who have gone through the system and are still living in a little tin box that the government so thoughtfully gave them, but we, now, think might make them sick.  Not to mention, that they are still not in their homes, have schools, or other public works 2 years after the storm.   Just a thought.

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Disconnected and Pissed

Sorry, not much content today.  Again, my laptop has declared mutiny against the Internet.  Someone remind why technology is so great? I am assuming that it is great for those that can fix such problems, but we are not such people.  We did have someone to do this for us, but since he has decided to become the biggest JACKASS this side of the Mississippi, we will have to figure it out ourselves.

Currently, I am on my husband’s laptop, which is having some of the same issues.  We can connect to the outside world through the Sprint broadband card.  His computer is so small I feel like a giant.  How is that even possible?  Besides, it has none of my stuff on it.  I am in pure hell. 

Oddly enough, I have found that I get the same amount of stuff done without the Internet that I do when I am not cursing the day the Internet was born.  So there goes my husband’s theory that I am always on the computer and not getting anything done.  I guess I can ignore the kids with or without the Internet.   

I must go, now.  Evidentally, I have sausages for fingers, because I keep hitting the wrong keys.

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The Rule of School Holidays

When there is a week of no school, children will wake up at the crack of dawn and full of energy leaving their parents in a tired rumpled heap.

When school starts, again, children will sleep in, even those that don’t go to school.  They will move at a snail’s pace causing their mother to yell, “MOVE, what do you have molasses in your butt?” 

The only thing that remains the same is that the parents will be left in a tired, rumpled heap.

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Weather Forecast: Feet

Today was one of the nastiest days I can remember.  Okay, my memory is going due to old age (Who am I again and what am I doing in this life?), but it was a really gross day.  Everywhere we went smelled like feet, felt like sweaty feet and was just a feety kind of day.  While yesterday was in the mid 50′s, quite cold for us (Shut up, the Great White North), today was musty. 

When we left the house at 930am, late for church again, you could feel the nasty moving in.  It was in the low 70′s, but heavy on the humidity.  The rain was moving it, but it wouldn’t be a cleansing rain more of a make you feel even dirtier rain.  We sat in the quiet room, which oddly isn’t quiet with 6 kids in it, where it was stuffy and smelled of feet that have been in some dirty old man’s shoes for about a month.  Our church has been on a one mass schedule since the summer.  I think it is because the priest likes to see the church packed and wants to get home early to watch the Saints game.  However, they have not adjusted the a/c; it kicked in just in time for mass to end.

We decide to have brunch in the mall, so we could race down and be first in line for Santa.  You know you want to beat that rush, so your son can scream and punch Santa in private.  While it was funky outside, it was nice in the mall.  See the mall is truly heaven, told ya.  I guess it doesn’t matter that I chose a mall that has been very light on the people, but they have the best Santa set up in the city, in my opinion.  The more popular mall has a skinny, fake bearded Santa.  Our Santa has a real beard and real belly shaking like jelly.  Sam screamed and kicked and did his best to show that even Santa couldn’t win him over.  I assured him that Santa would bring him gifts and understood.  However, the old woman taking the picture was hell bent on a perfect shot.  I told her several times to just snap the picture and stop with all the games.  The more she tried to get him to smile the more he fought.  It was a losing battle, for her, Sam was willingly to play it out.  Hey, that boy has broken me in a long time ago.  I never expect perfect smiling pictures from Sam, but I take them as proof of the hell he has put me through with his tantrums and someday we will either laugh about it or I will bring them to his hearing to prove that it has been encoded in his DNA.

I am sure you don’t want to hear about the rest of our day.  It, basically, can be described as BIG, NASTY, SMELLY, FEET! 

Here is a follow up, because I hate being left hanging: 

Dollhouse:  We got it in and it sucked.  The box was mangled and the delivery guy didn’t even ring the door bell.  We found them sitting on our porch when we went out to put up Christmas lights.  I can only guess that he knew we wouldn’t have accepted that box and didn’t want to haul it back to packaging hell.  So, now I have to haul it to UPS and offer up my first born to ship the house, which was damaged, and the furniture back.  The moral of this story, don’t order large items in the mail it will suck the life out of you.  After my hernia operation, from carrying this crap into the store, I will go out and buy a dollhouse from a toy store like Santa knew she should have done in the first place.

I would like to add that I am not faulting eToys.com.  I don’t think they purposely sent me a mangled dollhouse and I am sure they would have given me an exchange, if that is what I wanted.  I do blame the dillhole that deliver the mangled box to my door.  I am talking to you DHL.  And I blame myself, because I knew better and was trying to do things on the cheap.  Well, I just cost myself more in shipping.  DUH!!!

2006 and 2007
Still cranky after all these months.
Still not knowing what to do with her hands.

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My Appliances are Out to Get Me

The dryer and oven lights have gone out at the same time.  The fridge is demanding a new filter.  And my laptop will only get the Internet when the moon is high, I stand on one leg, bark at the moon and dance a little jig. 

I had a real post for today, but WordPress didn’t save it all.  I am too tired to try and remember how it ended, so this what you get. 

One bright spot, all the Christmas lights worked that we hung up.  Of course, I am sure they will go out one by one causing me to go on a killing spree against anything with a cord.

May the Internet be with you, but moreso me.

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Thanksgiving Day 2007

You always need a little something to nosh on while waiting for the dinner to cook.
I will remember this when George, finally, came in from his office and asked, “Do we have anything to eat?”
And no, we didn’t eat all that dip in one day. I simply forgot to buy more.

COME AND GET IT!
I decided to use our wedding china, because it never sees the light of day. 
Hell, why not?  It isn’t like there is anyone here that might break something or anything.
I was smart enough not to give the boy any fine china.  He would dine on the very durable and plastic Dora.
Nice spread, eh? (Just thinking of the google searches that will bring people here.)

Just look at how happy and thankful they all look. 
I think this was around the time that Amber realized the injustice of her father getting 2 dinner rolls and her getting only one.
A screaming and full meltdown will occur, because MY GOD HOW DARE YOU ONLY GIVE ME ONE DINNER ROLL!
Also, this is where she will declare that the green bean casserole and sweet potatoes were just GROSS!
You know we are trying to poision her, don’t cha?

Frowns would be turned upside down when she realizes that, hey, I can make mom’s heart stop by just drinking milk.
Yes, I jumped everytime she picked up one of my crystal glasses to drink. 
I would completely die of a heartache when she demanded that we toast and clink glasses throughout dinner.
I am beginning to seriously worry about this school she is going to. 
It appears they all talk about how sexy they are and toast each other during lunch.
Maybe we accidentally sent her to how to be a raging, spoiled, young, hollywood starlet school.

Sam decided that he had to sit at the regular table.  
No highchair for him.
Although, this position was better suited for feeding the dog under the table.
Sam ate mashed potatoes and bread for dinner.
Fully CARBED and ready to go.

After we (the adults) cleaned up and took a 30 second nap, it was time for dessert.
At this time my mother showed up to spend a little turkey time with us.
If you remember, I made the pumpkin just for Amber.  She said it was good, because it tasted just like school, the day before.
Which is what I strive for with all my meals.
Amber changed her mind and decided that this pumpkin pie was CRAP!  
Sam on the other hand, decided he liked pumpkin pie so much that he ate 3 pieces (well, 3 baby pieces).
It would be the only veggie he would ingest all day.

  

My mother just got a new cell phone, because the other one blew up, so she needed to get pictures of her grandkids.
After 30 minutes, I wanted to scream: THIS IS AS GOOD AS IT GETS.  JUST MOVE ON WITH YOUR LIFE.

Oh yeah, here are the pies.  That pecan and chocolate pie was to die for.  I would love to just swim around in it until I drowned in pure heaven.
I don’t eat pumpkin pie, but I will make it.  My mom said it tasted good, but no one else would give me feedback on it. 
Well, there was Amber’s review of rolling around on the floor dying, because somehow from the night before to the next afternoon the pie had changed from delicious to purely disgusting.

And this would end our night.  Even though, I have been cooking healthy, delicious meals since my daughter could put a spoon in her mouth, she much prefers the frozen, boxed and school made stuff way better. 
She had pizza; we had wonderful, sleep inducing leftovers sandwiched between bread.

 

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Thankful

The house is dark, I am in shorts and a t-shirt, the kids are parked in front of the TV, the husband is in his office getting dressed (it has his very special, completely his own shower) and the turkey is in the oven.  It is cold and gray here in the suburbs of New Orleans and feels like we are all alone.  Not that I am totally alarmed by that, besides I am sure that many of our neighbors have decided to stay home seeing that there is an oil fire still going on a main stretch of highway.

Our lives have changed a lot in 3 months.  I can’t say that we didn’t expect it, but it is always a shock when it actually happens.  I know that this change, no matter how big, will bring us to a much better position in the coming months and years.  Things will be our own and we will answer to no one.  I won’t even say that it has been hard, because to be really honest our lives have not changed much.  Our bills are paid on time, just not as much as we would like, we still get to have date nights, just on a budget and Christmas shopping is a little stressful because of said budget, but in all fairness we have it a lot better than others.  George is working hard and we are learning from the mistakes of our carelessness. 

My mind has been focused on traditions, because that is what people do on holidays.  I have struggled with this since having children, because we have no hard and fast traditions, but we have wonderful memories.  Like the time we couldn’t make it to my dad’s house, because it snowed.  Oh yes, it snowed in New Orleans on CHRISTMAS.  A day that started out sad, became great when we ate dinner with our friends and had a snow fight.  There were the last Thanksgivings with my grandparents.  The Christmas grandpa got a Saints blanket and I swiped his huge bag of M&M’s and Edward Scissorhands movie.  He wouldn’t have liked them, anyway.  Then there were the first holidays without them that were bitter sweet. And the first Thanksgiving and Christmas after the devastation of Katrina, which made us way more thankful than any year before.   

I had many traditions when I was a kid and I did look forward to them, but who is to say that things must go the same every year.  Sometimes we need a break from the travelling and the huge gatherings and then other times that is all we want.  Today, our DVD player is filled with Home Alone, Home Alone 2, ELF,  and A Christmas story; we will watch TV til our eyes fall out.  The kids will run around either in pjs or get dressed, frankly it is up to them and we will enjoy a meal that was prepared by George and I.  Tomorrow, we will witness snow (Yes, in New Orleans.  Why doesn’t anyone believe me?) and explore the Chrismtas decorations at the Fairmont hotel and Harrah’s casino.  Will we do that again next year, who knows?  Traditions are nice, but memories are better.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone, hope your day is filled with great food, good friends, fun family and the best memories a lifetime can offer. 

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Why are Women so Crazy?

When a man asks this he better duck, because there will be some woman somewhere that will hear him and throw something.  However, I have an answer to all those men that come to my site looking for the answer to this question, although, it is usually in the form of “why is my wife such a bitch”.  One answer, MEN!  Oh you heard me.  Men are the cause for all the craziness in the world, although I will give about 40% of the credit to hormones, too, but mostly MEN.

I have a confession, I listen to Dr. Laura every afternoon, while picking up Amber.  I use to listen and get ideas.  I was a bitter, resentful, angry woman.  Then I started listening for fun, especially like when she gets people who obiviously never listen to her.  I settle in and wait for the sparks to fly.  Dr. Laura’s way never worked for me.  Her answer to any problem with your man is give him sex.  While, you know what, I got stuff to do and I can’t be flat on my back all day.  Funny, those kids don’t take care of themselves.  Funny, I haven’t recieved my magically clean the house fairies that I ordered 5 years ago.  I am hopeful.  More miraclously, my husband still does the same insane stuff that makes me go all wiggy on his ass from time to time.  You see the sex makes the blood run from his head and he can’t think,  then he forgets what the problem was and we are right back where we started.  

Why am I telling you all this, because while I love my husband I think he must be insane to do some of the things he does.  You see I would think that countertops were made for food and other kitchen items.  Sure we have one counter, between the dining room and kitchen, where we put unkitchen related items.  However, I would think that a sane person would realize that shoes that were stomping around the French Quarter, in all it’s disease infested wonder,  DO NOT BELONG ON THE COUNTERTOP.  Especially, MY COUNTERTOP.  I know I am just being a crazy woman, here, and Dr. Laura would tell me to meet my husband with a big kiss at the door and then take him to heaven.  My plan, would be to take that shoe and leave a nice little reminder on his ass to not put them on the counter.  But that is just me in all my craziness.

 
I guess that gun, in the shoe, could be a kitchen utensil.
I can’t tell you how many times I have had to go out and shoot me some wild boar to cook up for dinner.
Although, the French Quarter is filled with spice, I don’t want any of it on my counter.
BAM!  Shoe up your ass!

 

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