OMG Maggie is sooooo wrong!! She feels that toilet paper must go with the flap under. As her mother, I am trying to teach her the correct way of things; and USUALLY she's so smart... However, I am beginning to see that although she gets high honors and all that stuff, she is NOT as smart as I thought. Idiot Savant? Well, not in the classic sense; but she is weird, to say the least.
I will continue teaching her the correct way of toilet paper installation; but hold out little hope....
chat soon.
xoxo
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Who Am I? Where Did The World Come From?
So, I sit here in my quiet house, all alone. I am beginning my semester work trying to get a jump on things while the rest of my family is busy somewhere outside the house.
I look at the first assignment due in my Philosophy class and immediately hit into a brick wall. Two simple questions: Who am I? Where did the world come from? These questions seem quite simple and easy to answer; and, truth be told, I could probably answer each in one small sentence.
Who am I? Why, I'm Tracy, of course!
Where did the world come from? God, of course.
These answers, however, seem to be cheating somewhat. Although my glib answers above are true, they are not complete. I could, if pressed, turn those two simple questions into an essay of multiple pages. I could explore all my thoughts on who I really am and the reasons for my being. I could delve into the creation of Heaven and Earth. Ahhhhh, now I'm philosophizing!
So, here I sit, blogging instead of doing some constructive school work. Maybe that is the area that REALLY needs delving into....
Ok, back to work now. I'll share some answers when I figure them out.
Chat soon.
xoxo
I look at the first assignment due in my Philosophy class and immediately hit into a brick wall. Two simple questions: Who am I? Where did the world come from? These questions seem quite simple and easy to answer; and, truth be told, I could probably answer each in one small sentence.
Who am I? Why, I'm Tracy, of course!
Where did the world come from? God, of course.
These answers, however, seem to be cheating somewhat. Although my glib answers above are true, they are not complete. I could, if pressed, turn those two simple questions into an essay of multiple pages. I could explore all my thoughts on who I really am and the reasons for my being. I could delve into the creation of Heaven and Earth. Ahhhhh, now I'm philosophizing!
So, here I sit, blogging instead of doing some constructive school work. Maybe that is the area that REALLY needs delving into....
Ok, back to work now. I'll share some answers when I figure them out.
Chat soon.
xoxo
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Happy Hour
Andrea and I did happy hour last night. It actually was a happy FEW hours! We went to this classy bar in West Haven. What?!? You don't think that there ARE any classy bars in West Haven? Well, let me prove you wrong!
The place we met at had ambiance. And a cool bartender. Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl... Wait, I am thinking of someone else. Her name was Chachi. She was cool and joined us in downing a couple of grape crush shots (I have only one thing to say about those -- Y U M M Y ! ! !). She was quite skilled in the preparation of this concoction.
Now, Andrea and I chose to sit on the veranda. This veranda had an eclectic array of furnishings. The thing you notice first upon entering the area is the huge garbage can. It had an actual use as well, for garbage!!
The next interesting piece of furniture was the table. There were about 6 or 7 round, wooden tables. They were wobbly, which added a bit of excitement to the evening. Will my drink fall off? Will I be able to balance it? Now to the color of the tables. They were mostly red. It appeared to me that they were first painted yellow, and then painted red. It seems the purpose of this arrangement of paint was to allow patrons to scrape their name (or various expletives) into the table and they will appear bright yellow in contrast to the red.
Now, one might think that this was enough design for the tables; but noooooo! There are also random brush-strokes of yellow all around the edges. At first I thought they were just cleaning the yellow off their brushes using the table I was at to do so; but then I realized it was on all of the tables. THIS WAS INTENTIONAL!
Well, who am I to question the brave designers? The beer was cold, the shots were great, and the company was perfect! I had a great night.
Chat soon
xoxo
The place we met at had ambiance. And a cool bartender. Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl... Wait, I am thinking of someone else. Her name was Chachi. She was cool and joined us in downing a couple of grape crush shots (I have only one thing to say about those -- Y U M M Y ! ! !). She was quite skilled in the preparation of this concoction.
Now, Andrea and I chose to sit on the veranda. This veranda had an eclectic array of furnishings. The thing you notice first upon entering the area is the huge garbage can. It had an actual use as well, for garbage!!
The next interesting piece of furniture was the table. There were about 6 or 7 round, wooden tables. They were wobbly, which added a bit of excitement to the evening. Will my drink fall off? Will I be able to balance it? Now to the color of the tables. They were mostly red. It appeared to me that they were first painted yellow, and then painted red. It seems the purpose of this arrangement of paint was to allow patrons to scrape their name (or various expletives) into the table and they will appear bright yellow in contrast to the red.
Now, one might think that this was enough design for the tables; but noooooo! There are also random brush-strokes of yellow all around the edges. At first I thought they were just cleaning the yellow off their brushes using the table I was at to do so; but then I realized it was on all of the tables. THIS WAS INTENTIONAL!
Well, who am I to question the brave designers? The beer was cold, the shots were great, and the company was perfect! I had a great night.
Chat soon
xoxo
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Philosophy
I am taking a class this semester on Philosophy. It is just an 'introduction to' class and nothing really in depth; but it seemed interesting to me. Well, I got my books last night and began reading (class starts next week). WOW! I'm going to have a lot to say about this!
How interesting. Why? Hmmm. Seems to be the way of Philosophy. Basically, philosophy is the search for truth and reasoning, searching for the foundations of our basic beliefs. The "Why" of it all. This course will look at the metaphysical, logical, ethical, and others that I have yet to discover.
I think this is very interesting; and if I were lucky enough to be able to go to college only taking things that interested me, I would probably pursue philosophy. So the next logical question in my mind is, where does one go with a degree in philosophy? Let's explore that question. Reading between the lines, I'd then make the assumption that the most important reason to study something in college is to gain qualifications for a particular job. By going there, I am philosophizing. I guess I should be going to college just for the personal and intellectual growth obtained; but that is not the case for me.
My college experience has more (all) to do with getting a degree to get a better job to get more money and support my family. There are a few brief moments when I can take a class NOT because it brings me closer to my degree; but because it interests me and for no other reason! That is why I took philosophy. That is also why I took Hispanic-American literature; but I'll address that class in another blog, I'm sure.
I guess women have just recently been getting recognition in this field outside the study of feminism. Women can be philosophers WITHOUT it being about feminism. Sheesh! Makes this subject even more interesting to me.
Just ordered two books online: Eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven by Uta Ranke-Heinemann having to do with Women, Sexuality and the Catholic Church; and When Women were Priests by Karen Jo Torjesen, which has to do with Women's leadership roles in the early Church. I'm looking forward to reading these books and am sure I'll provide a little info in a future blog.
Well, off to work. Chat soon.
xoxo
How interesting. Why? Hmmm. Seems to be the way of Philosophy. Basically, philosophy is the search for truth and reasoning, searching for the foundations of our basic beliefs. The "Why" of it all. This course will look at the metaphysical, logical, ethical, and others that I have yet to discover.
I think this is very interesting; and if I were lucky enough to be able to go to college only taking things that interested me, I would probably pursue philosophy. So the next logical question in my mind is, where does one go with a degree in philosophy? Let's explore that question. Reading between the lines, I'd then make the assumption that the most important reason to study something in college is to gain qualifications for a particular job. By going there, I am philosophizing. I guess I should be going to college just for the personal and intellectual growth obtained; but that is not the case for me.
My college experience has more (all) to do with getting a degree to get a better job to get more money and support my family. There are a few brief moments when I can take a class NOT because it brings me closer to my degree; but because it interests me and for no other reason! That is why I took philosophy. That is also why I took Hispanic-American literature; but I'll address that class in another blog, I'm sure.
I guess women have just recently been getting recognition in this field outside the study of feminism. Women can be philosophers WITHOUT it being about feminism. Sheesh! Makes this subject even more interesting to me.
Just ordered two books online: Eunuchs for the Kingdom of Heaven by Uta Ranke-Heinemann having to do with Women, Sexuality and the Catholic Church; and When Women were Priests by Karen Jo Torjesen, which has to do with Women's leadership roles in the early Church. I'm looking forward to reading these books and am sure I'll provide a little info in a future blog.
Well, off to work. Chat soon.
xoxo
Monday, August 22, 2005
Big Fly
Sometimes I see something interesting in the world around me and I feel the need to share it with others I may encounter along my way. Today, for example, I was standing outside my office soaking up the nice sunshine when I noticed something pretty unusual as far as I was concerned. It was a fly. Not just any fly, mind you, I'm not a complete moron. Anyway, this fly was about one inch long. I am not exaggerating! It was huge. It's eyes, ugh, those horrible slimy round knobules at the end of it's face. Icky!!
It was gray in color, dark gray, and just hung there on the door. Hey, lady who walked out after me: I was trying to show you something interesting, not mug you. No need to glance at me over your shoulder while walking swiftly away. Honest. Some people just don't appreciate nature.
So I got to thinking what the heck that fly was. Of course, I googled it. I found this great website called www.whatsthatbug.com. What a neat place to surf around. Very interesting. If you're ever bored, check it out.
Bottom line, I think it was the Western Black Horsefly. Chicks are much bigger than the dudes and they bite and draw blood! They're not being mean, they need the blood to make eggs. Ugh. Glad I didn't get bitten today!
chat soon.
xoxo
It was gray in color, dark gray, and just hung there on the door. Hey, lady who walked out after me: I was trying to show you something interesting, not mug you. No need to glance at me over your shoulder while walking swiftly away. Honest. Some people just don't appreciate nature.
So I got to thinking what the heck that fly was. Of course, I googled it. I found this great website called www.whatsthatbug.com. What a neat place to surf around. Very interesting. If you're ever bored, check it out.
Bottom line, I think it was the Western Black Horsefly. Chicks are much bigger than the dudes and they bite and draw blood! They're not being mean, they need the blood to make eggs. Ugh. Glad I didn't get bitten today!
chat soon.
xoxo
Friday, August 19, 2005
Differences between men and women
I got to thinking, after my last post, about the differences between men and women. You know, just recently scientists decoding the human genome found that there are just 78 genes separating men from women. Wow, just 78!!!
There are many differences beyond the actual physical. Some are serious, some are jokes. Somehow, though, a few of the joking ones are pretty darn close to the truth.... dontcha think? Well, I thought of a few things myself:
At weddings, women cry then get drunk. Men get drunk, then cry.
Men need a round of applause when they do any housework.
Women could never invent weapons that kill, only ones that make you feel really bad and guilty until you surrender
Women pee together. Men do not acknowledge, let alone speak, to each other when peeing.
Women parallel process, men parallel park.
A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he wants. A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item she doesn't want.
Only women can understand other women.
Women can use sex to get what they want. Men cannot, since sex is what they want.
Women do not get turned on at the thought of two men together.
The best way to understand a woman is to love her. Then it isn't necessary to understand her.
A woman has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
I guess that's all for now. Gotta go do my summer reading.. chat soon.
xoxo
There are many differences beyond the actual physical. Some are serious, some are jokes. Somehow, though, a few of the joking ones are pretty darn close to the truth.... dontcha think? Well, I thought of a few things myself:
At weddings, women cry then get drunk. Men get drunk, then cry.
Men need a round of applause when they do any housework.
Women could never invent weapons that kill, only ones that make you feel really bad and guilty until you surrender
Women pee together. Men do not acknowledge, let alone speak, to each other when peeing.
Women parallel process, men parallel park.
A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he wants. A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item she doesn't want.
Only women can understand other women.
Women can use sex to get what they want. Men cannot, since sex is what they want.
Women do not get turned on at the thought of two men together.
The best way to understand a woman is to love her. Then it isn't necessary to understand her.
A woman has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
I guess that's all for now. Gotta go do my summer reading.. chat soon.
xoxo
I Want a Wife
This afternoon while I was working I began thinking. This may seem an odd thing to do in the middle of work; but I was doing kind of mindless analytical work and my thoughts had 'room to wander'.
I began thinking about the different lives that men and women live. It's amazing, really. I would LOVE to go to work and come home. Nothing more. I often dream of it. My responsibility would end there. Work. Home. I can handle it.
My life, however, is somewhat (completely) different. I work. Fulltime. I go to school. Fulltime. I am responsible for my kids. The dog. My husband. I pay the bills and clean the pool. I clean the house (hehe) and do laundry.
It's not all bad and I don't mean to imply that. Or that my husband does nothing; because he does -- Oops! I didn't mean that! Of course he does noth-- uh -- something. Just kidding, honey!! I have time for friends. I have time to do this (blog) and I get time to be alone with myself... :-)
It's just that sometimes when things are really stressful for me, I begin to think of how much easier my family has it BECAUSE of me. Hmmmm...... not quite fair enough.
I read this story once, titled, "Why I want a wife". It was written by Judy Syfers in 1971 and I hope I'm not breaking any laws; but I copied it here:
Why I Want a Wife by Judy Syfers (1971)
(Editors Note: This classic piece of feminist humor appeared in the premier issue of Ms. Magazine and was widely circulated in the women's movement.)
I belong to that classification of people known as wives. I am A Wife.
And, not altogether incidentally, I am a mother. Not too long ago a male friend of mine appeared on the scene fresh from a recent divorce. He had one child, who is, of course, with his ex-wife. He is looking for another wife. As I thought about him while I was ironing one evening, it suddenly occurred to me that I too, would like to have a wife. Why do I want a wife?
I would like to go back to school so that I can become economically independent, support myself, and if need be, support those dependent upon me. I want a wife who will work and send me to school. And while I am going to school I want a wife to take care of my children. I want a wife a wife to keep track of the children's doctor and dentist appointments. And to keep track of mine, too. I want a wife to make sure my children eat properly and are kept clean. I want a wife who will wash the children's clothes and keep them mended. I want a wife who is a good nurturing attendant to my children, who arranges for their schooling, makes sure that they have an adequate social life with their peers, takes them to the park, the zoo, etc. I want a wife who takes care of the children when they are sick, a wife who arranges to be around when the children need special care, because, of course, I cannot miss classes at school. My wife must arrange to lose time at work and not lose the job. It may mean a small cut in my wife's income from time to time, but I guess I can tolerate that. Needless to say, my wife will arrange and pay for the care of the children while my wife is working.
I want a wife who will take care of my physical needs. I want a wife who will keep my house clean. A wife who will pick up after my children, a wife who will pick up after me. I want a wife who will keep my clothes clean, ironed, mended, replaced when need be, and who will see to it that my personal things are kept in their proper place so that I can find what I need the minute I need it. I want a wife who cooks the meals, a wife who is a good cook. I want a wife who will plan the menus, do the necessary grocery shopping, prepare the meals,serve them pleasantly, and then do the cleaning up while I do my studying. I want a wife who will care for me when I am sick and sympathize with my pain and loss of time from school. I want a wife to go along when our family takes a vacation so that someone can continue care for me and my when I need a rest and change of scene. I want a wife who will not bother me with rambling complaints about a wife's duties. But I want a wife who will listen to me when I feel the need to explain a rather difficult point I have come across in my course of studies. And I want a wife who will type my papers for me when I have written them.
I want a wife who will take care of the details of my social life. When my wife and I are invited out by my friends, I want a wife who take care of the baby-sitting arrangements. When I meet people at school that I like and want to entertain, I want a wife who will have the house clean, will prepare a special meal, serve it to me and my friends, and not interrupt when I talk about things that interest me and my friends. I want a wife who will have arranged that the children are fed and ready for bed before my guests arrive so that the children do not bother us. I want a wife who takes care of the needs of my quests so that they feel comfortable, who makes sure that they have an ashtray, that they are passed the hors d'oeuvres, that they are offered a second helping of the food, that their wine glasses are replenished when necessary, that their coffee is served to them as they like it. And I want a wife who knows that sometimes I need a night out by myself.
I want a wife who is sensitive to my sexual needs, a wife who makes love passionately and eagerly when I feel like it, a wife who makes sure that I am satisfied. And, of course, I want a wife who will not demand sexual attention when I am not in the mood for it. I want a wife who assumes the complete responsibility for birth control, because I do not want more children. I want a wife who will remain sexually faithful to me so that I do not have to clutter up my intellectual life with jealousies. And I want a wife who understands that my sexual needs may entail more than strict adherence to monogamy. I must, after all, be able to relate to people as fully as possible.
If, by chance, I find another person more suitable as a wife than the wife I already have, I want the liberty to replace my present wife with another one. Naturally, I will expect a fresh, new life; my wife will take the children and be solely responsible for them so that I am left free.
When I am through with school and have a job, I want my wife to quit working and remain at home so that my wife can more fully and completely take care of a wife's duties.
My God, who wouldn't want a wife?
__________________________________________
I WANT A WIFE!!!!!
Chat soon. xoxo
I began thinking about the different lives that men and women live. It's amazing, really. I would LOVE to go to work and come home. Nothing more. I often dream of it. My responsibility would end there. Work. Home. I can handle it.
My life, however, is somewhat (completely) different. I work. Fulltime. I go to school. Fulltime. I am responsible for my kids. The dog. My husband. I pay the bills and clean the pool. I clean the house (hehe) and do laundry.
It's not all bad and I don't mean to imply that. Or that my husband does nothing; because he does -- Oops! I didn't mean that! Of course he does noth-- uh -- something. Just kidding, honey!! I have time for friends. I have time to do this (blog) and I get time to be alone with myself... :-)
It's just that sometimes when things are really stressful for me, I begin to think of how much easier my family has it BECAUSE of me. Hmmmm...... not quite fair enough.
I read this story once, titled, "Why I want a wife". It was written by Judy Syfers in 1971 and I hope I'm not breaking any laws; but I copied it here:
Why I Want a Wife by Judy Syfers (1971)
(Editors Note: This classic piece of feminist humor appeared in the premier issue of Ms. Magazine and was widely circulated in the women's movement.)
I belong to that classification of people known as wives. I am A Wife.
And, not altogether incidentally, I am a mother. Not too long ago a male friend of mine appeared on the scene fresh from a recent divorce. He had one child, who is, of course, with his ex-wife. He is looking for another wife. As I thought about him while I was ironing one evening, it suddenly occurred to me that I too, would like to have a wife. Why do I want a wife?
I would like to go back to school so that I can become economically independent, support myself, and if need be, support those dependent upon me. I want a wife who will work and send me to school. And while I am going to school I want a wife to take care of my children. I want a wife a wife to keep track of the children's doctor and dentist appointments. And to keep track of mine, too. I want a wife to make sure my children eat properly and are kept clean. I want a wife who will wash the children's clothes and keep them mended. I want a wife who is a good nurturing attendant to my children, who arranges for their schooling, makes sure that they have an adequate social life with their peers, takes them to the park, the zoo, etc. I want a wife who takes care of the children when they are sick, a wife who arranges to be around when the children need special care, because, of course, I cannot miss classes at school. My wife must arrange to lose time at work and not lose the job. It may mean a small cut in my wife's income from time to time, but I guess I can tolerate that. Needless to say, my wife will arrange and pay for the care of the children while my wife is working.
I want a wife who will take care of my physical needs. I want a wife who will keep my house clean. A wife who will pick up after my children, a wife who will pick up after me. I want a wife who will keep my clothes clean, ironed, mended, replaced when need be, and who will see to it that my personal things are kept in their proper place so that I can find what I need the minute I need it. I want a wife who cooks the meals, a wife who is a good cook. I want a wife who will plan the menus, do the necessary grocery shopping, prepare the meals,serve them pleasantly, and then do the cleaning up while I do my studying. I want a wife who will care for me when I am sick and sympathize with my pain and loss of time from school. I want a wife to go along when our family takes a vacation so that someone can continue care for me and my when I need a rest and change of scene. I want a wife who will not bother me with rambling complaints about a wife's duties. But I want a wife who will listen to me when I feel the need to explain a rather difficult point I have come across in my course of studies. And I want a wife who will type my papers for me when I have written them.
I want a wife who will take care of the details of my social life. When my wife and I are invited out by my friends, I want a wife who take care of the baby-sitting arrangements. When I meet people at school that I like and want to entertain, I want a wife who will have the house clean, will prepare a special meal, serve it to me and my friends, and not interrupt when I talk about things that interest me and my friends. I want a wife who will have arranged that the children are fed and ready for bed before my guests arrive so that the children do not bother us. I want a wife who takes care of the needs of my quests so that they feel comfortable, who makes sure that they have an ashtray, that they are passed the hors d'oeuvres, that they are offered a second helping of the food, that their wine glasses are replenished when necessary, that their coffee is served to them as they like it. And I want a wife who knows that sometimes I need a night out by myself.
I want a wife who is sensitive to my sexual needs, a wife who makes love passionately and eagerly when I feel like it, a wife who makes sure that I am satisfied. And, of course, I want a wife who will not demand sexual attention when I am not in the mood for it. I want a wife who assumes the complete responsibility for birth control, because I do not want more children. I want a wife who will remain sexually faithful to me so that I do not have to clutter up my intellectual life with jealousies. And I want a wife who understands that my sexual needs may entail more than strict adherence to monogamy. I must, after all, be able to relate to people as fully as possible.
If, by chance, I find another person more suitable as a wife than the wife I already have, I want the liberty to replace my present wife with another one. Naturally, I will expect a fresh, new life; my wife will take the children and be solely responsible for them so that I am left free.
When I am through with school and have a job, I want my wife to quit working and remain at home so that my wife can more fully and completely take care of a wife's duties.
My God, who wouldn't want a wife?
__________________________________________
I WANT A WIFE!!!!!
Chat soon. xoxo
Friday, August 12, 2005
My Friend Ray
I met Ray a few years ago through my daughter Jaime. She joined our Church youth group and she kept talking about some dude named Ray. The first thing she said was that he looked young, but wasn’t!! She said he was great and was such an inspiration to her. All she talked about is how I had to meet him because he was 'cool'. Well, I'm not sure about that as I don't think I'm a good judge of ones 'coolness'; but, I can totally agree with Jaime now: Ray is great!
Ray and I became friends when I began helping out with the youth group. I have found his insight and presence within the group to be an inspiration to all who know him. There was one kid who talked often of Ray’s backside; but I probably shouldn't mention that now......
Our friendship has been a blessing in my life. I know that I can turn to him with any problem, and he will lend an ear or a shoulder - whichever is needed (sometimes both). I enjoy hanging out with him. Whether it's out for dinner and a beer, or off to see a movie, I know we will have fun. My kids sometimes get upset if I go out with Ray and they are not included. Oh well, such is life.
Ray inspires me too. I have learned so much from him. The way he interacts with the teens, dedication to his faith and his honesty are all motivating. The teens all are drawn to him for advice, prayer, or entertainment. He has taught me new ways to relate to the group that have helped in my interactions. I see so many of the teens emulating Ray. That is the best compliment one can receive.
And if there is any practical joke going on, you can be pretty sure Ray had something to do with it. As a matter fact, there have been a couple of times when I have gotten “The Look” from Sister because of Ray. There was the time when he called my cell phone during prayer….. Thanks, Ray! And who can forget the moo box?
Even better than his motivation of all who know him is his dedication to live his faith. The way he inspires those around him is not by preaching; but by living it.
Ray is now devoting his life to entering the Priesthood. I am amazed and full of wonder. One of the neatest things he did is to make the announcement of joining the seminary to the Youth Group during our talk on Vocations. He was so excited in the weeks coming up to that talk. He told me his decision; but wanted to wait to tell the kids until it fit into our reflection that particular night. That's just how he is.
Ok, enough of that. I'm done praising this guy. He's great. There. I said it. I wish everyone had a "Ray" in their life.
xoxo
Ray and I became friends when I began helping out with the youth group. I have found his insight and presence within the group to be an inspiration to all who know him. There was one kid who talked often of Ray’s backside; but I probably shouldn't mention that now......
Our friendship has been a blessing in my life. I know that I can turn to him with any problem, and he will lend an ear or a shoulder - whichever is needed (sometimes both). I enjoy hanging out with him. Whether it's out for dinner and a beer, or off to see a movie, I know we will have fun. My kids sometimes get upset if I go out with Ray and they are not included. Oh well, such is life.
Ray inspires me too. I have learned so much from him. The way he interacts with the teens, dedication to his faith and his honesty are all motivating. The teens all are drawn to him for advice, prayer, or entertainment. He has taught me new ways to relate to the group that have helped in my interactions. I see so many of the teens emulating Ray. That is the best compliment one can receive.
And if there is any practical joke going on, you can be pretty sure Ray had something to do with it. As a matter fact, there have been a couple of times when I have gotten “The Look” from Sister because of Ray. There was the time when he called my cell phone during prayer….. Thanks, Ray! And who can forget the moo box?
Even better than his motivation of all who know him is his dedication to live his faith. The way he inspires those around him is not by preaching; but by living it.
Ray is now devoting his life to entering the Priesthood. I am amazed and full of wonder. One of the neatest things he did is to make the announcement of joining the seminary to the Youth Group during our talk on Vocations. He was so excited in the weeks coming up to that talk. He told me his decision; but wanted to wait to tell the kids until it fit into our reflection that particular night. That's just how he is.
Ok, enough of that. I'm done praising this guy. He's great. There. I said it. I wish everyone had a "Ray" in their life.
xoxo
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
The Kitchen God's Wife
I just finished the book. What a good book! I highly recommend it to everyone! Now I have to go back and re-read The Joy Luck Club.
If you're interested, go back and read my posts titled Nine Bad Things and Two Ways to Look at Things.
xoxo
If you're interested, go back and read my posts titled Nine Bad Things and Two Ways to Look at Things.
xoxo
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
My Niece Trisha
My niece Trisha is to blame for me blogging. It is wholly her fault. You see, she has a blog. Trisha is a sweet, kind-hearted, talented young woman; she's in college, and she blogs. I love to read her blogs. I don't get to spend as much time as I'd like with her; and therefore, reading her blogs keeps me abreast (hehe, funny word) of what goes on in her head. Well, not really. I'm sure she has much more that goes on in her head than what she blogs. I mean, sometimes it's been MONTHS in between postings. Obviously there are things happening in her head during those times. In any event, I have never found myself bored while reading her stories. Maybe she'll be a writer when she's done with college...... Doubt it, but she sure would succeed!
I am sure that she doesn't post all of her personal feelings there either; but what she does post is always entertaining. She is a very intelligent person. She is one of the smartest people I know. I have always loved watching (or hearing about) her accomplishments. I just know that she's going places in this world and she will make a difference.
Recently I went to see Trisha in a play. One of my favorites, as a matter of fact (not that I have much experience; but .... ) - Guys & Dolls. She played a Hot Box girl and was fantastic! Loved the wig! She can dance, she can sing, she's beautiful AND she is smart! The girl has it all.
I saw what she does with her online journal and I was impressed. Hmmmm, I guess my wanting to blog is my way of honoring Trisha. Ok, it was lame; but I do love her!!
xoxo
I am sure that she doesn't post all of her personal feelings there either; but what she does post is always entertaining. She is a very intelligent person. She is one of the smartest people I know. I have always loved watching (or hearing about) her accomplishments. I just know that she's going places in this world and she will make a difference.
Recently I went to see Trisha in a play. One of my favorites, as a matter of fact (not that I have much experience; but .... ) - Guys & Dolls. She played a Hot Box girl and was fantastic! Loved the wig! She can dance, she can sing, she's beautiful AND she is smart! The girl has it all.
I saw what she does with her online journal and I was impressed. Hmmmm, I guess my wanting to blog is my way of honoring Trisha. Ok, it was lame; but I do love her!!
xoxo
Pile of Crap
I was over my friend Andrea's house on Sunday. We got together for a little beer and pizza during the Friends marathon - the last 12 episodes in a row! My first complaint is that Andrea didn't wear a bra. Ok, not really, but I know she'll love seeing her boobs in print. Well, not her boobs, but mention of them. Usually they are nothing to talk about.... hehe
Anywhoooo, I digress. So we were sitting there, drinking and watching Friends, and of course lots and lots of commercials. These commercials repeated themselves over and over throughout the four hours we sat there. There was this stupid one for K of C chicken where some dude was being abducted by some 'bad guys' and they stuck his feet in a bucket of cement, apparently to keep him from talking about how good the chicken was at K of C. It was stupid and in very poor taste, if you ask me.
Now to the reason for my post - there was one particular stinky commercial for RidX - some junk you put in your septic tank to eat the crap. Basically, the commercial was saying use RidX and don't think about your septic tank or else your yard will be a big mushy stinky pile of crap.
Never having had a septic system, I began to wonder how they worked. Andrea, in her infinite wisdom, said that you had to have the tanks pumped out every 10 years or so to get the crap out. I was like, "Whoa! 10 years of crap?!?" I mean, c'mon, it just sits there for 10 years?? So I decided to investigate the situation and report back to Andrea.
She is apparently not too busy at work because she keeps bugging me for the Crap Report. Or the Septi-Blog. Or maybe the Shit-Journal. Whatever. Here it is.
In polite societies, people don't call it sewage, it is called wastewater. Of course, Andrea and I just called it crap. There appears to be three main reasons why 'wastewater' (or the stuff we flush down our toilets) needs to be treated and not just dumped into the ground:
1. It stinks (duh)
2. Bacteria - Human crap (waste) contains E-coli and other bacteria that can cause disease. Don't want to cause a health hazard...
3. It has suspended solids and chemicals that affect the environment: Wastewater has
a. nitrogen and phosphates that encourage the growth of algae. This excessive algae growth can block the sunlight and foul the water.
b. organic materials that bacteria in the environment will start decomposing (crap). When this happens the bacteria consumes oxygen from the water. The lack of oxygen that results will kill fish.
c. floating crap (suspended solids) makes water look murky and can affect the ability of fish to breathe and see.
No one wants to live in a place that stinks, is full of deadly bacteria and cannot support life. Icky!
Now that we know WHY we need a septic or sewer system, lets get back to the 'how does it work' regarding the tank-o-crap. Basically, the septic tank is just a huge concrete or steel tank buried in your yard. It can hold up to 1,000 gallons of water. The wastewater (from toilet, sink, tub/shower, etc) flows into the tank at one end and heads out at the other.
The heavy stuff settles to the bottom (the sludge layer), the floaters will rise to the top (the scum layer) and everything else is sort of suspended in the middle. This middle layer is kinda clear but has all kinds of bacteria and chemicals. The bacteria will break down the organic stuff (crap) and cause gas. Now, you may be surprised to hear this; but, the gas does not smell good.
Now when some new water comes into the septic tank, it pushes out some of the old water. This old water goes into the ground into something called a drain field. This drain field is made of perforated pipes buried in trenches filled with gravel. The plan is that the water is slowly absorbed and filtered by the ground.
So that is pretty much how they work. What did I learn? That if a septic system is put in correctly, they should pretty much be self functioning and in no need of maintenance. If you are foolish, however, and flush your tampons and stuff, they you may be in trouble. Get some RidX!!
I feel so enlightened and must thank my friend Andrea for making me do this research.
Next Blog: What happens when your crap backs up?
xoxo
Anywhoooo, I digress. So we were sitting there, drinking and watching Friends, and of course lots and lots of commercials. These commercials repeated themselves over and over throughout the four hours we sat there. There was this stupid one for K of C chicken where some dude was being abducted by some 'bad guys' and they stuck his feet in a bucket of cement, apparently to keep him from talking about how good the chicken was at K of C. It was stupid and in very poor taste, if you ask me.
Now to the reason for my post - there was one particular stinky commercial for RidX - some junk you put in your septic tank to eat the crap. Basically, the commercial was saying use RidX and don't think about your septic tank or else your yard will be a big mushy stinky pile of crap.
Never having had a septic system, I began to wonder how they worked. Andrea, in her infinite wisdom, said that you had to have the tanks pumped out every 10 years or so to get the crap out. I was like, "Whoa! 10 years of crap?!?" I mean, c'mon, it just sits there for 10 years?? So I decided to investigate the situation and report back to Andrea.
She is apparently not too busy at work because she keeps bugging me for the Crap Report. Or the Septi-Blog. Or maybe the Shit-Journal. Whatever. Here it is.
In polite societies, people don't call it sewage, it is called wastewater. Of course, Andrea and I just called it crap. There appears to be three main reasons why 'wastewater' (or the stuff we flush down our toilets) needs to be treated and not just dumped into the ground:
1. It stinks (duh)
2. Bacteria - Human crap (waste) contains E-coli and other bacteria that can cause disease. Don't want to cause a health hazard...
3. It has suspended solids and chemicals that affect the environment: Wastewater has
a. nitrogen and phosphates that encourage the growth of algae. This excessive algae growth can block the sunlight and foul the water.
b. organic materials that bacteria in the environment will start decomposing (crap). When this happens the bacteria consumes oxygen from the water. The lack of oxygen that results will kill fish.
c. floating crap (suspended solids) makes water look murky and can affect the ability of fish to breathe and see.
No one wants to live in a place that stinks, is full of deadly bacteria and cannot support life. Icky!
Now that we know WHY we need a septic or sewer system, lets get back to the 'how does it work' regarding the tank-o-crap. Basically, the septic tank is just a huge concrete or steel tank buried in your yard. It can hold up to 1,000 gallons of water. The wastewater (from toilet, sink, tub/shower, etc) flows into the tank at one end and heads out at the other.
The heavy stuff settles to the bottom (the sludge layer), the floaters will rise to the top (the scum layer) and everything else is sort of suspended in the middle. This middle layer is kinda clear but has all kinds of bacteria and chemicals. The bacteria will break down the organic stuff (crap) and cause gas. Now, you may be surprised to hear this; but, the gas does not smell good.
Now when some new water comes into the septic tank, it pushes out some of the old water. This old water goes into the ground into something called a drain field. This drain field is made of perforated pipes buried in trenches filled with gravel. The plan is that the water is slowly absorbed and filtered by the ground.
So that is pretty much how they work. What did I learn? That if a septic system is put in correctly, they should pretty much be self functioning and in no need of maintenance. If you are foolish, however, and flush your tampons and stuff, they you may be in trouble. Get some RidX!!
I feel so enlightened and must thank my friend Andrea for making me do this research.
Next Blog: What happens when your crap backs up?
xoxo
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Vacation
My kids left early this morning for vacation. Off they went to Myrtle Beach with their dad and step-mom. They look forward to this trip each year and I am so glad for them. Mark will golf with his dad and grandfather, and the girls will sunbathe and shop. I think Mags will golf as well; but probably not as much as Mark. Jaime is anxious to get the vacation done, get home, get back to school, and go to college so she can start on her life. I read that in her away message yesterday. Who knows if it's how she feels all the time. Could just have been PMS.
Well, them going on vacation got me to thinking about vacations in general. There are your classic vacations, where you go away from your home, stay in a hotel and do something relatively fun and/or relaxing. Then there are the vacations that you take from work when you aren't really going on vacation. That is a vacation as well, but just one from work. You stay at home and do all those things you have been putting off for so long. Then there is the vacation I have this week. It is the vacation from my kids. Now, some people like this vacation; and I have to admit to some relaxing myself. However, I miss them when they are gone and would not want this to be a permanant thing.
There are benefits, though; and I will list them for you:
1. When I clean my house, IT STAYS THAT WAY. Well, mostly. I still have a dog and husband.
2. There is no one sleeping on my couch (Stephenie)! I regain my living room!
3. Dishes that are washed usually stay that way.
4. I don't have to cook dinner.
5. I don't have to worry about switching cars in the driveway.
6. I don't have to worry about Mark being out late at night.
7. I don't have to drive anyone anywhere!
In spite of all that, I hate it when my kids go away. I miss them and feel as if someone has cut off my right arm and the whole world expects me to act normally. All in all, I would rather they stay home.
Coming up in a couple of weeks is college dorm move-in. I'll be losing Stephenie and Mark to that demon. There are benefits, some mentioned above; but there are still two 'little ones' at home. Two high-school girls! Jaime is working on getting her license, so that will be another worry. She has a standard shift car, so I don't expect her to be driving anytime soon.
Maggie will be starting as a sophomore at Sacred Heart Academy and she is so excited! Jaime will be a SENIOR!! We have college visits and applications to get through. Not to mention THE NEW SATs! Well, all prayers for the upcoming months will be greatly appreciated.
xoxo
Well, them going on vacation got me to thinking about vacations in general. There are your classic vacations, where you go away from your home, stay in a hotel and do something relatively fun and/or relaxing. Then there are the vacations that you take from work when you aren't really going on vacation. That is a vacation as well, but just one from work. You stay at home and do all those things you have been putting off for so long. Then there is the vacation I have this week. It is the vacation from my kids. Now, some people like this vacation; and I have to admit to some relaxing myself. However, I miss them when they are gone and would not want this to be a permanant thing.
There are benefits, though; and I will list them for you:
1. When I clean my house, IT STAYS THAT WAY. Well, mostly. I still have a dog and husband.
2. There is no one sleeping on my couch (Stephenie)! I regain my living room!
3. Dishes that are washed usually stay that way.
4. I don't have to cook dinner.
5. I don't have to worry about switching cars in the driveway.
6. I don't have to worry about Mark being out late at night.
7. I don't have to drive anyone anywhere!
In spite of all that, I hate it when my kids go away. I miss them and feel as if someone has cut off my right arm and the whole world expects me to act normally. All in all, I would rather they stay home.
Coming up in a couple of weeks is college dorm move-in. I'll be losing Stephenie and Mark to that demon. There are benefits, some mentioned above; but there are still two 'little ones' at home. Two high-school girls! Jaime is working on getting her license, so that will be another worry. She has a standard shift car, so I don't expect her to be driving anytime soon.
Maggie will be starting as a sophomore at Sacred Heart Academy and she is so excited! Jaime will be a SENIOR!! We have college visits and applications to get through. Not to mention THE NEW SATs! Well, all prayers for the upcoming months will be greatly appreciated.
xoxo
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Stephenie
Stephenie Christine. My first baby. My most special blessing. My life was forever changed when I went from being a normal, boring person to being a MOTHER. My most favorite job!! I remember so much how it felt - from the day we made the decision to have a baby, until a hundred years later when I actually got pregnant (well, only 4 months; but it SEEMED like a hundred years).
Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up to be a wife and mother. That was it. No dreams of a career or traveling or anything like that. I just wanted to be a wife and mother. So when we were trying to get pregnant, and the months started passing, it was very hard for me. As a matter of fact, when it did happen I almost didn't believe it - well, I didn't believe it!
This was before the days of accurate home pregnancy tests. There was one home test out there - EPT - and it was not very accurate. You had a test tube and a little stand. There was this bottle of chemicals and a little cup to catch your peepee (ewwwww - messy!). First, you put water and the chemicals in the test tube and place it in the stand. You had to be careful to place it in a level place that would remain undisturbed during the test. Then you pee in the cup (and all over your hand), take a little dropper-full of peepee, and put two or three drops into the test tube. Then you had to leave it alone for 30 minutes. 30 MINUTES!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??
Anyway, at the end of the test, if a little circle appeared at the bottom of the test tube - like a ring around the bottom - then the test was positive. If not, then you weren't. Back in the olden days, a woman had to wait until her period was 2 weeks late before she could take the test or it wasn't accurate. And even if a home test was positive, the doctor didn't believe it and sent you for a blood test to be sure. The damn blood test took 24 hours to get the results.
So here I was, two weeks late for my period and VERY EXCITED!!! I ran out to the store and got a home pregnancy test. Performed the whole piss-on-the-hand thing, drop the piss in the chemicals and then wait the seventy-five hours (30 minutes) before I could go check the test. No ring. Damn! Another month gone! I moved the test into the other room to show my husband. I put it down on the counter, and we went out for the night. When I got home, there was a ring at the bottom of the test tube. I figured it was because I moved the damn test around. I didn't even mention it to anyone, just threw it away. It was a Friday.
When Monday rolled along and still no appearance of the period, I called the doctor. He sent me for a blood pregnancy test. Now I had to wait 24 hours for the results. I called Tuesday afternoon to check the results. I remember clearly how the woman on the phone sounded. She asked my name, asked me to spell it and then hummed a little tune while she looked down the list. She said "Positive" but said it with a little pause after the first syllable, like Poooooooooooooosative. I was soooo excited! I ran into the other room and told my husband. Then, the worst thing happened.
I started to think I imagined the whole thing. She must have said NEGATIVE and I just heard POSITIVE because I wanted to be preggers so badly. Then I did a silly thing. I called back. I tell the chickie I am checking on the status of a pregnancy test and give her my name. She says to me, "didn't you just call?" and, of course, I lie. No, I tell her, I didn't and who did you give my results to???? She shut up about me calling before and confirmed that I WAS PREGNANT!!!!
Every minute of the pregnancy was a wonder for me. I loved being the host for such a magical thing. A new life was growing inside my body. I felt like I was the only person in the whole wide world who had ever taken part in the miracle of life. No one had before me and no one would after. I relished every part, every pound, every stretch mark and gas pain. There was nothing I did not welcome. The outcome was worth all that and much much more.
I remember so clearly going to the doctor on my birthday of June 28th. It was my 22nd birthday and I had an appointment. My mother-in-law, God rest her soul, had to drive me. I was due on July 16th and had toxemia. I couldn't drive. Anyway, she drove me and as I was walking up the stairs into the office, I tripped. I fell flat on my face/stomach. I mean, I SLAMMED down!! The first thing I did was to hop up and check if anyone saw me. They didn't. I went into the office and they called me in right away. That never happens! I sit and the nurse took my blood pressure. Of course it was through the roof. She gets into a panic and calls the doctor. He comes in and says I have to go directly to the hospital. I had to admit to them that I had just fallen directly on my face not two minutes before. They calmed down some and had me rest for a few minutes. The nurse took my pressure again, and although it was elevated, it wasn't alarming.
The doctor was still concerned about my toxemia, though, and told me that on Monday, July 1, 1985 I should go to the hospital and he was going to induce my labor. I was so excited! Monday came and off we went. We sat and sat and sat. Apparently there was a drop in barometric pressure or something; but a bunch of women came in that day in active labor. My inducement was pushed off and off until it was too late to do it that day. The doc decided to keep me in the hospital overnight because of the toxemia.
God decided that Tuesday the second was the day for me. I began labor on my own that night at 2 am. I stayed up all night embracing each gentle pain as it guided my baby into the world. I was like, "Oh, another contraction!!" It was a beautiful time for me and my baby. It was just the two of us and no one was around. When morning came and I informed the nurses that my labor had started, everything was rush rush - get into a labor room, stick in an IV, get me into a johnny coat, take off the panties, stick fingers up me to see how far along I was, and all that good stuff. Apparently it was not going fast enough for the doctor; because he started me on pitocin (a drug to induce or speed up labor). Then he broke my water.
Let me tell you something. The contractions that I was embracing were gone. What replaced them were piercing pains that began in my back and crawled slowly around to peak at my navel. I was sure I was bleeding all over the bed because I felt as if I was being stabbed across my abdomen. That was not happening, of course; but it felt like it was to me. I began to think that there was no way I could handle this intense pain. I was going to die. Panic set in. All of a sudden, it didn't seem like such a good idea, this 'being a parent' thing. I changed my mind and didn't want to do it anymore. So I pulled out the IV (blood squirting all over) and got up to leave. The next thing I remember is the nurses pushing me back into bed, a sharp pain in my thigh, a prick in my back (isn't that what got me into that situation??) and then all went black.
The next thing I remember is the nurse waking me up telling me it was time to push. I slept!!! Now pushing was no picnic either; but at least when I was pushing I wasn't in pain. It took over 2 hours to push this skinny, scrawny chicken out of my body.
She was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She was pink and her little eyes were blinking up at me and I never knew I could love someone so much. She was placed on my stomach right after she came out and I remember not even caring if she was a boy or a girl. It just didn't matter. Here was this perfect, precious life that we created wriggling and crying on my belly. She had my heart. All I wanted to do was hold her forever. I was the happiest woman in the world.
Even to this day, Stephenie continues to bless my life. 20 years later, and I am still madly in love with her. I thank God every day for placing her in my care and just pray that I am doing his gift justice.
Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up to be a wife and mother. That was it. No dreams of a career or traveling or anything like that. I just wanted to be a wife and mother. So when we were trying to get pregnant, and the months started passing, it was very hard for me. As a matter of fact, when it did happen I almost didn't believe it - well, I didn't believe it!
This was before the days of accurate home pregnancy tests. There was one home test out there - EPT - and it was not very accurate. You had a test tube and a little stand. There was this bottle of chemicals and a little cup to catch your peepee (ewwwww - messy!). First, you put water and the chemicals in the test tube and place it in the stand. You had to be careful to place it in a level place that would remain undisturbed during the test. Then you pee in the cup (and all over your hand), take a little dropper-full of peepee, and put two or three drops into the test tube. Then you had to leave it alone for 30 minutes. 30 MINUTES!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??
Anyway, at the end of the test, if a little circle appeared at the bottom of the test tube - like a ring around the bottom - then the test was positive. If not, then you weren't. Back in the olden days, a woman had to wait until her period was 2 weeks late before she could take the test or it wasn't accurate. And even if a home test was positive, the doctor didn't believe it and sent you for a blood test to be sure. The damn blood test took 24 hours to get the results.
So here I was, two weeks late for my period and VERY EXCITED!!! I ran out to the store and got a home pregnancy test. Performed the whole piss-on-the-hand thing, drop the piss in the chemicals and then wait the seventy-five hours (30 minutes) before I could go check the test. No ring. Damn! Another month gone! I moved the test into the other room to show my husband. I put it down on the counter, and we went out for the night. When I got home, there was a ring at the bottom of the test tube. I figured it was because I moved the damn test around. I didn't even mention it to anyone, just threw it away. It was a Friday.
When Monday rolled along and still no appearance of the period, I called the doctor. He sent me for a blood pregnancy test. Now I had to wait 24 hours for the results. I called Tuesday afternoon to check the results. I remember clearly how the woman on the phone sounded. She asked my name, asked me to spell it and then hummed a little tune while she looked down the list. She said "Positive" but said it with a little pause after the first syllable, like Poooooooooooooosative. I was soooo excited! I ran into the other room and told my husband. Then, the worst thing happened.
I started to think I imagined the whole thing. She must have said NEGATIVE and I just heard POSITIVE because I wanted to be preggers so badly. Then I did a silly thing. I called back. I tell the chickie I am checking on the status of a pregnancy test and give her my name. She says to me, "didn't you just call?" and, of course, I lie. No, I tell her, I didn't and who did you give my results to???? She shut up about me calling before and confirmed that I WAS PREGNANT!!!!
Every minute of the pregnancy was a wonder for me. I loved being the host for such a magical thing. A new life was growing inside my body. I felt like I was the only person in the whole wide world who had ever taken part in the miracle of life. No one had before me and no one would after. I relished every part, every pound, every stretch mark and gas pain. There was nothing I did not welcome. The outcome was worth all that and much much more.
I remember so clearly going to the doctor on my birthday of June 28th. It was my 22nd birthday and I had an appointment. My mother-in-law, God rest her soul, had to drive me. I was due on July 16th and had toxemia. I couldn't drive. Anyway, she drove me and as I was walking up the stairs into the office, I tripped. I fell flat on my face/stomach. I mean, I SLAMMED down!! The first thing I did was to hop up and check if anyone saw me. They didn't. I went into the office and they called me in right away. That never happens! I sit and the nurse took my blood pressure. Of course it was through the roof. She gets into a panic and calls the doctor. He comes in and says I have to go directly to the hospital. I had to admit to them that I had just fallen directly on my face not two minutes before. They calmed down some and had me rest for a few minutes. The nurse took my pressure again, and although it was elevated, it wasn't alarming.
The doctor was still concerned about my toxemia, though, and told me that on Monday, July 1, 1985 I should go to the hospital and he was going to induce my labor. I was so excited! Monday came and off we went. We sat and sat and sat. Apparently there was a drop in barometric pressure or something; but a bunch of women came in that day in active labor. My inducement was pushed off and off until it was too late to do it that day. The doc decided to keep me in the hospital overnight because of the toxemia.
God decided that Tuesday the second was the day for me. I began labor on my own that night at 2 am. I stayed up all night embracing each gentle pain as it guided my baby into the world. I was like, "Oh, another contraction!!" It was a beautiful time for me and my baby. It was just the two of us and no one was around. When morning came and I informed the nurses that my labor had started, everything was rush rush - get into a labor room, stick in an IV, get me into a johnny coat, take off the panties, stick fingers up me to see how far along I was, and all that good stuff. Apparently it was not going fast enough for the doctor; because he started me on pitocin (a drug to induce or speed up labor). Then he broke my water.
Let me tell you something. The contractions that I was embracing were gone. What replaced them were piercing pains that began in my back and crawled slowly around to peak at my navel. I was sure I was bleeding all over the bed because I felt as if I was being stabbed across my abdomen. That was not happening, of course; but it felt like it was to me. I began to think that there was no way I could handle this intense pain. I was going to die. Panic set in. All of a sudden, it didn't seem like such a good idea, this 'being a parent' thing. I changed my mind and didn't want to do it anymore. So I pulled out the IV (blood squirting all over) and got up to leave. The next thing I remember is the nurses pushing me back into bed, a sharp pain in my thigh, a prick in my back (isn't that what got me into that situation??) and then all went black.
The next thing I remember is the nurse waking me up telling me it was time to push. I slept!!! Now pushing was no picnic either; but at least when I was pushing I wasn't in pain. It took over 2 hours to push this skinny, scrawny chicken out of my body.
She was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She was pink and her little eyes were blinking up at me and I never knew I could love someone so much. She was placed on my stomach right after she came out and I remember not even caring if she was a boy or a girl. It just didn't matter. Here was this perfect, precious life that we created wriggling and crying on my belly. She had my heart. All I wanted to do was hold her forever. I was the happiest woman in the world.
Even to this day, Stephenie continues to bless my life. 20 years later, and I am still madly in love with her. I thank God every day for placing her in my care and just pray that I am doing his gift justice.
Monday, August 01, 2005
TURKEYS!!!!!
I have this funny story. You know how sometimes something happens that makes you and those with you laugh? And then it keeps popping up at other times to make you laugh again? And those who are around you then have no idea what the hell you are talking/laughing about? Ya, well that happened with me.
I was driving somewhere, can't remember where (probably WalMart) with my daughters. Jaime was telling me something when off the side of the road I saw a (group? gaggle?) whole bunch of turkeys!! Now this sight might not be amazing to all reading this; but for us, well ME at least, it was. We have been seeing more and more turkeys in our area over the past two or three years and I'm still excited when I see them.
So, here we are driving and Jaime was talking. I was listening, honest I was. Then I saw the turkeys. I interrupted Jaime and said, "Look! Turkeys!!". She shut up and turned away. Now, Jaime is sensitive and I hurt her feelings. I didn't mean to, I really didn't; but nonetheless, I did. So I apologized and she continued and that was it. Or so I thought.....
Now, whenever I do something similar (or don't pay 100% attention) I get one of my kids saying, "Look! Turkeys", or sometimes just "turkeys". They don't say it with the same enthusiasm I did; but it makes us all laugh.
When it's said in the company of others, the whole story has to be told again. So if you happen to be around me and my girls and hear the word "turkey", you'll know what's going on!!!!
xoxo
I was driving somewhere, can't remember where (probably WalMart) with my daughters. Jaime was telling me something when off the side of the road I saw a (group? gaggle?) whole bunch of turkeys!! Now this sight might not be amazing to all reading this; but for us, well ME at least, it was. We have been seeing more and more turkeys in our area over the past two or three years and I'm still excited when I see them.
So, here we are driving and Jaime was talking. I was listening, honest I was. Then I saw the turkeys. I interrupted Jaime and said, "Look! Turkeys!!". She shut up and turned away. Now, Jaime is sensitive and I hurt her feelings. I didn't mean to, I really didn't; but nonetheless, I did. So I apologized and she continued and that was it. Or so I thought.....
Now, whenever I do something similar (or don't pay 100% attention) I get one of my kids saying, "Look! Turkeys", or sometimes just "turkeys". They don't say it with the same enthusiasm I did; but it makes us all laugh.
When it's said in the company of others, the whole story has to be told again. So if you happen to be around me and my girls and hear the word "turkey", you'll know what's going on!!!!
xoxo
Poor Choices
So we all know about poor choices. We've all made them - and I'm sure we will make them again. It is when you are at that place in your life when you are contemplating doing something that you KNOW is stupid - wrong - immoral - illegal - and yet you do it anyway. You go into the situation knowing full well that what you are doing will probably get you into trouble, yet do it anyway.
I won't beat a dead horse here because I'm sure you all know what I mean. What is it that causes us to go ahead with these poor choices?
Who knows.... human nature? Recently, there have been people in my life who have made mistakes. Some of them major mistakes; and some just stupid but not life threatening. I have seen some have trouble getting over the fact that they have made these poor choices. They are feeling stupid and embarassed. Reminds me of Grandma's Duck:
There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. And he was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target.
Getting a little discouraged; he headed back to dinner. As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck. Just on an impulse, he took aim with the slingshot, and let fly. The small rock hit the duck square in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved.
In a panic, he hid the dead duck behind the wood pile, only to see his sister watching. Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.
After lunch that day Grandma said, "Sally, let's wash the dishes."
But Sally said, "Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen." Then she whispered to her bother, "Remember the duck?"
So Johnny did the dishes.
Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing, but Grandma said, "I'm sorry but I need Sally to help make supper."
Sally just smiled and said, "Well that's all right because Johnny told me he wanted to help you." She whispered again, "Remember the duck?"
So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.
After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally's, he finally couldn't stand it any longer. He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck.
Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug, and said, "Sweetheart, I know. You see I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing. But because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you."
I wonder if it's that way in our lives. We make poor (stupid) choices and cannot get over them to move ahead. I have some tips that may help:
--Learn from your mistakes and the mistakes of others
--Do what you know to be right without reservation
--Be thankful that the mistakes you made have taught you the importance of making the right decision
Well, folks, that's all for now. I have to go 'clean up' from a few mistakes of my own.
xoxo
I won't beat a dead horse here because I'm sure you all know what I mean. What is it that causes us to go ahead with these poor choices?
Who knows.... human nature? Recently, there have been people in my life who have made mistakes. Some of them major mistakes; and some just stupid but not life threatening. I have seen some have trouble getting over the fact that they have made these poor choices. They are feeling stupid and embarassed. Reminds me of Grandma's Duck:
There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. And he was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target.
Getting a little discouraged; he headed back to dinner. As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck. Just on an impulse, he took aim with the slingshot, and let fly. The small rock hit the duck square in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved.
In a panic, he hid the dead duck behind the wood pile, only to see his sister watching. Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.
After lunch that day Grandma said, "Sally, let's wash the dishes."
But Sally said, "Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen." Then she whispered to her bother, "Remember the duck?"
So Johnny did the dishes.
Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing, but Grandma said, "I'm sorry but I need Sally to help make supper."
Sally just smiled and said, "Well that's all right because Johnny told me he wanted to help you." She whispered again, "Remember the duck?"
So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.
After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally's, he finally couldn't stand it any longer. He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck.
Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug, and said, "Sweetheart, I know. You see I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing. But because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you."
I wonder if it's that way in our lives. We make poor (stupid) choices and cannot get over them to move ahead. I have some tips that may help:
--Learn from your mistakes and the mistakes of others
--Do what you know to be right without reservation
--Be thankful that the mistakes you made have taught you the importance of making the right decision
Well, folks, that's all for now. I have to go 'clean up' from a few mistakes of my own.
xoxo
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