tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34743888958707033222024-03-14T01:54:36.457-04:00The Rare AmylesaurusTrying not to fall off the face of the earthThe Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.comBlogger183125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-9673001820502717242013-07-11T01:23:00.000-04:002013-07-11T21:29:51.732-04:00Hey! I'm half way to dead...ain't nobody got time for dat"I know you don't read my memo's, so in case you are unaware, I am now a super villian." <br />
- Mosely, The Suite Life<br />
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It's funny how quickly the right things in life become the wrong things....and the wrong things become the right things depending on who you are hanging out with.<br />
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As you get older you think that wisdom through trial and error will grant you the gift of discernment. It doesn't though. I believe discernment is truly a gift from God that not everyone is given. Certainly as adults we love to have the favortism of those that are well liked, cause then we feel well liked. Who doesn't want to be loved and adored by most people? If you say it doesn't matter what people think, then I believe you are a liar...dig deeper, it's there.<br />
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It's those times when folks ask of you to turn a blind eye, wink away certain behavior, or excuse it with immaturity to stay with the well liked group and to "be like everyone else" or "get on board" that we figure out who we really are on our own.<br />
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Drama starts as children, rocks hormones to the foundation as teens, annoy's the hell out of us in our 20's and 30's......and by our 40's, heck we are half way to dead. Do we really want to spend the next 40 years of our God given lives dancing around everyones clearly seen stupidity and bad choices?<br />
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NO! I just want to be all ...REAL TALK IN YOUR FACE... and be done. By the time I speak all the nice words that coddle your ego and make you feel all furry bunnies and rainbows....I'll dang grow a freaking beard and die.<br />
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"Ain't nobody got time for dat"<br />
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The thing is, being a Christian now is hard work for me. It shouldn't be, but it is.<br />
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Like....feeling God's grace and knowing His presence in my everyday and all day comings and goings is as natural as breathing. I'd suffocate literally without this constant hand holding session God has with me.<br />
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Dealing with stupid people = hard work......HARD WORK, intense manual labor. It's funny because these people believe in themselves and their faith is in themselves and the popularity they surround themselves with. So they "are always right." The entourage tells them so because that is what itching ears want to hear. <br />
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This is where the gift of discernment is halted. The things you once knew were right and good and planned to never leave, knowing bad things come from making rash decisions.....have now become the wrong things, and unpopular, and hard.....so they are left as thoughts in the file cabinet of the mind.....<br />
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.....to be picked back up at a later date when humbleness has forced your hand and won.......again. Discernment will not be gained though, for alas, it is a gift.<br />
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If or when you come to the knowledge you haven't been given this gift....surround yourself with the folks who have it. Folks who love the Lord with all their heart, their soul, their strength, and their mind, so that your pathway will be much straighter.<br />
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A lot of times people who do the right things that are deemed wrong by the world or by the popular, unknowing, useful crowd. Then they are made to stand alone until (Warning REAL TALK that won't coddle an ego) life blows up in your face and you want to talk about it....just.... a little bit...... that turns into weeks of chaos of the mind.<br />
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It's pretty sad really.<br />
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I have been thinking a lot about Mulims lately because the beginning of Ramadan was today I think. They are afforded so many rights that we as Christians are not. They are aloud to discriminate and be racist, to celebrate holidays without ridicule and are even celebrated in the media with positivity, they disrespect the role of women in 100 ways, and on and on.....<br />
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The reason people give them the respect they command as a religion is because they stand up for their god boldly and believe in what they are doing with the purpose of serving their god to be looked upon as righteous and good, we may see them as radical or crazy.....but what they are is crazy in love with their god, seeking his approval and blessings for faithfulness.....and so many times Christians just aren't.<br />
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.....and we are losing our people.....by our own self destruction. Worshipping the world and calling it changing with the times...trying to make God more hip and appealing to younger people ...<br />
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.....when the message is already appealing by itself. If we could be as radical and as crazy in love with the ONE TRUE GOD, seeking His approval and boldly standing alone for what is right....just to have Him smile upon us if for no other reason.....because His radical love makes us radical people.<br />
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I am downhearted about what our churches are becoming. Not even that you expect to find a perfect church, cause there are none, but just that you hope to find one where integrity and character mimic that of Christ consistently from the leadership down and not vice versa.<br />
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I am beginning to think America is surely not mentioned in Revelation because we are so incredibly weak in our faith and our knowledge of what God is really capable of.<br />
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There were a lot of things I used to want in a church for my family, but now I long for all Christian churches to put off what we deem as "church" and put on straight up, pure, radical love for Christ, HIS WORD, His adoration and love for one another and our neighbor as ourselves.<br />
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..............cause what we do is play church......My heart weighs full to capacity with confusion and sickness.<br />
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Warning! REAL TALK is fixing to not coddle your ego, look away now: I am afraid to invite people to church. Scary folks, called Christians, live there and they could hurt you.<br />
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They do it all the time, and wink it away.<br />
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The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-43772768544333234712012-10-02T19:33:00.000-04:002012-10-02T19:33:12.164-04:00Don't tell mom okay?......Si Senor....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB- Mesa kims......Messa sims.......Meca sins......oh nevermind.....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A- Well what about it, forget that word...what was your story about? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB- (aggravated with his fist balled up) ABOOOUUUT TACOS AND CHIM CHANGS..... THAT SKY EATS!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A - OOOOH "MEX I CANS" ?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB- YES! (instant relief comes across his face) They have lots of chiwabas(chihuahuas) there, cause on TV they always speak Spanish......(turns and leaves the room)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB is finally starting to use his phonics a little more in curiosity. This signals to me his reading skills are about to take flight. He will tell people he can't read. His siblings tell him he can't read yet....but he can. CB thinks if he isn't reading from his reading book...then...<i>he can't read</i>. Right before all of my other children started to read well, they became curious on their own....trying to figure out what things say before asking me. When I see this I know it's all good. When Cole learns to read well....it's all cake! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This brings me to the laundry room where we all have our own hooks to hang our coats, purses, hats, etc...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Each hook has the first initial of the person it belongs too and they are arranged so as to be in the proper "pecking order."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB on the top rung of a step stool in his underwear at 6 pm on a Saturday - MOM! What do these letters spell?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A- Nothing (cause I know kids...and I have had this conversation before with new readers and teens....and it's always the same...)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - Then why are they here?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A- So we all know what hook is our own hook and no one fights over whose is whose....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - well which one is Liam's? (his neighbor friend)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A - None CB... they are our family's hooks not the dang neighbors coat hooks, why would they have to hang their coats at our house?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">....silence for juuuust a bit....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB- .............MOM?!(hollering to me in the kitchen) Are we the DAM family?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">M with me in the kitchen and D in the living room start laughing immediately.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A- No Cole bear! we are the "Williams Family," those are our first name initials... D - DDDDerrick, A - AAAAmy, M- MMMMaysie and so on</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - Well it says DAMZSC</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">M & D still haven't stopped snickering</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A - Cole it sounds like your are saying "damn" and that is a cuss word, we are not the "Damn Family," we are the "Williams Family." Now don't say that... even if that is the way the letters appear to read.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - Ok, Mom. Well can I have a cookie?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cole is at a friends house down the street. The mother calls and tells D that Cole has pee'd in his pants. That he is wearing a pair of her sons shorts but has on the same underwear, he doesn't want to go commando (which is odd frankly). D is all... well send him home, he can't wear wet underwear he'll get a rash. So CB comes home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D - What happened buddy?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - Liam told a funny joke and it was so funny I pee'd in my pants...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D- You must have held it too long, you gotta go to the bathroom son before that happens.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">....D is cleaning CB up with a warm rag.....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - Daddy....don't tell Mom...ok?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D - Why?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - I don't know just don't</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D - Well it'll cost ya, how much money do you have?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - I don't have any money........</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D - Well I guess yer up the creek then....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - I have the dollar the tooth fairy gave me</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D - Ok... well then I will take that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB - GOSH DAD! The whole dollar?? Can't you just take a quarter?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D pretends to think on it as he finishes getting Cole together.....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D - Ok.... I will take the quarter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">CB- (happy) Ok, now this is just between me and you right?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D - Yep ....me and you....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This blog is dedicated to Amanda Wester </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">who constantly "cheered" me on</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">until life permitted me <i>a single moment <b> </b></i><b>:o)</b></span></div>
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<br />The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-90811327351634682872011-06-13T09:32:00.005-04:002011-06-15T22:08:07.472-04:00Well, well, well.........well???........Yesterday morning I awoke to CB screaming bloody murder at about 6:30 in the morning. He still gets up at the butt crack of dawn. He had went poops and over flowed the toilet. So he was was in sheer panic mode standing in the bathroom naked holding his clothes in his hands. <br />
<br />
For some reason, our toilets just don't flush well. So I only buy the "<a href="http://www.charmin.com/en_US/toilet-paper-basic.php">Charmin Basic</a>" tp. It's soft enough, but breaks down easily. Recently in an attempt to save a little cash and see if our toilets would flush better, I bought some seriously <i>CHEAP</i> tp. Like camping tp in a double roll. I only bought 6 rolls but the stuff has lasted like 6 months. My people are completely frustrated with me because they're saying its like the commercial where the woman throws the roll at her husband. As the roll grazes the side of his head it mows his hair off. They claim its mowing their skin off. I am finally down to the last roll and it flushes no better than the "<a href="http://www.charmin.com/en_US/toilet-paper-basic.php">Basic</a>" so I'll not be buying that anymore.<br />
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So at six something in the morning I am cleaning up overflowed toilet water. While I am on my hands and knees doing this CB is continually asking for some chocolate milk.<br />
<br />
incredulously...A- !<i>CB! Give me a stinkin break ok? I mean good Lord, you have overflowed the toilet here and I am cleaning this up out of a dead sleep... I don't even have my glasses on and my hips are still in the "I'm getting old, locked up position." Can you give me a dang break??? You know... one morning....JUST ONE, I would like it if you would sleep late. Would it be too much to ask you to sleep in your bed till the rest of us got up and got our wits about us before you started with your daily 10 commandments as the sun is scaring away the moon??? I mean, for real Dude, I would like, JUST ONE morning to have ONE cup of coffee before I had to start running around fulfilling all of your daily dreams....JEEEEZ!!</i><br />
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CB, still standing there naked holding his clothes, his tanned little body, white little fanny, messy white blond bedtime hair, and reddened face with panic tears.......<br />
- <i>WELL! How would like if your little boy was sucked down into the toilet??!!!</i><br />
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I start laughing cause he is serious. Maysie, who is supposed to be sleeping in her near by bedroom, starts snickering and so does Sky...<br />
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CB get ticked cause we are all laughing and starts crying. This makes it a bit more deliriously funny. <br />
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All this to say he just woke up and it's 8:00 on the dot. This was a gift from God to me.<br />
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We've had the discussion once at my moms about, "Why is that little boys <b><u>always</u></b> have to take <b><u>ALLLLLL</u></b> of their clothes off to go poops." It was a lively discussion that concluded that its just something that little boys do...<i>my brother added that he still does it. </i> Which led to him revealing that he was just at <i style="text-decoration: underline;">work the other day</i> with all of his clothes piled in the floor taking a poops break. He was just kidding of course but the mental images were great.<br />
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...............................................<br />
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In a nut shell I'm at 180.2 now. I can be 179.4 on a good day but as soon as I start thinking and filling my mind with thoughts of the day I instantly weigh 180 to 182. BUT hitting the 170's number has encouraged me to keep going. 30 pounds lost, 30 more to go...<br />
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I got a part time job as the church custodian working around 20 hours a week. Some weeks more, like last week, because of VBS...grass galore and sloshy, spilled drinks in places people shouldn't be drinking in a church. Some weeks less because getting caught up can be awesome maintenance. It's good pay for something I can be really good at. Cause what mom can't clean up some crap......literally. I feel good when the church is clean. I mean I can stand back and see the fruit of my labor. I feel good to have done something for God's house. To get paid for doing it is a gift. <br />
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D's question now is, "When are you going to clean our house?" The answer from me is, "When are you gonna pay me?" ......tis all just joking and what not but seriously, cleaning my house now doesn't seem such an impossible job.<br />
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I have the whole summer to figure out my time management. I thought I would actually have this figured out by now, by alas I have not. Really, I know if I just get my butt up by 5:00 and put the hours in till about 9 or 10:00 about 3 or 4 days a week & then hit an afternoon before Sunday for a final once over, it's all cake. But I just want to sleep in....or at least till I have to start <i>filling CB's 10 commandments.</i><br />
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It would be easy to say, well I will just send the kids to school. Then I could work out and do the church job. My working out has taken a back seat for sure. I am still squeezing in at least once a week...I am shooting for two this week. I count all my vacuuming and cleaning as aerobic, cause no lie some days my dang arms are sore. I do sweat most days when I clean too.<br />
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Sending the kids to school though...would surely not be God's will. I have not prayed about that at all. I know God would not want me to sacrifice all we have accomplished for the sake of money and for the sake of my self satisfaction. The job and the fitness center are surely things that please me. While I believe God will bless both of those if done in the right spirit, I fully believe He could make those things miserable if done for my self and not to bring him glory. Neglecting the one thing I know He has called me to do would not be a good thing.<br />
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I have been out of the will of God before and it's not fun...AT ALL. So I have to be careful when thinking and tending to my children's education. The outside chatter filling my ears must be shut down and prayed over, not carelessly tossed about as if it were a coat I put on and take off at will.<br />
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Things to cover when CB sleeps late again:<br />
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1. How to stop thumb sucking 101...and the hairy thumb doesn't work, and some other stuff that don't work...but we're trying something knew...<br />
2. Church stuff in general<br />
3. Some funny stuff I have written down that hasn't made the blog<br />
4. Maysie's sinus surgery and the book she is writing for school<br />
5. How to make the most of 24 hours in a day effortlessly :oP<br />
6. Sharpie, Painting, Photography stuff<br />
7. learning to be content 101 :o/<br />
8. girlfriends and such...<br />
9. wasp chasing and bruises....<br />
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...and not necessarily in this order.The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-30752216594518621472011-05-10T07:37:00.000-04:002013-06-29T07:42:25.497-04:00medical specialists begged her to abort the pregnancy................<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Alabama Tornadoes - We had our Awana Celebration Service that night. Our church had been wishy washy as to whether to cancel church for the evening due to the weather. We had already canceled so many other nights that could've been in session. In the late afternoon it was determined we would go ahead with the service and cut it short. The kids would leave with their parents early, and that's what we did.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D made it home before I did, because I had an errand in town to run and I also needed to pick up some milk. The errand I went to run showed no fruit as the business closed early this day...due to incoming weather. God opened the flood gates of heaven as we were on our way to get milk. We opted to skip it this night and just head home. I had never driven in rainfall like that with all four kids in the car. The closer we got to home the worse the rain got. All of the kids were very tense and a couple were panicky.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A- It's Ok guys as long as it doesn't start hailing we should get home fine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Z- Why hail? What does that mean?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A- Possibly tornado...</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">um.......hail started pelting the car windshield</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">S & CB - began to cry and Sky literally has a panic attack. Z hollers at her to stop it, cause he is tense and then May hollers at him cause he's hollering....then I holler at all of them cause I am trying to drive and determine whether to park under a tree to protect my car from big hail....or park under a tree and a tree fall on the car....or keep driving and JUST GET FREAKING HOME. We kept driving....people started to text me to see if we were okay, my mom called, D called...then we were home.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The path of the tornado was coming directly through the area in the county in which we live. It was a pretty terrible storm we had. But we had no damage at all, not even D's truck that was sitting in the driveway when all the big hail fell. Lots of folks I know had their windows blown out of their houses, or their houses flooded, or their cars were totaled. We were all completely fine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Got up the next morning to go to the homeschool co-op. As we were leaving I saw what looked like a white envelope in the middle of the yard near a flower bed. We were running late but I told Z to get out go get it, it was littering our yard. He was mad cause we were running late....he brings me back a picture of a young couple.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Z- (in a weird voice) It's a picture.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A- Wow, that's odd...must've blew over from Dogwood Shores (the neighborhood behind ours). I hope someone didn't get their house so damaged it blew their stuff all the way over here, that would be terrible. Maybe they were just some random photos laying around and blew away with the strong wind.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As we drove on down just a few houses we found another picture in the road...this one of an old show car of some sort. Z summoned me to stop no more for pictures cause we were going to be late. I didn't stop, but I did scan as I was driving, but saw no more pics.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next day Z kicks a soccer ball into the field, he finds another pic of two men. The one man in the background with an Alabama T-shirt on. By this time I have a collection of 3 pictures on my fridge. I put them right where I would see them to remember to pray for these people when I passed by them. Didn't know why I had their pictures all over our neighborhood but they blew in from someone's house.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So all my peeps and I know by now the devastating tornadoes that had hit Ringold, TN and Alabama. I saw on the morning news that Facebook had a page up where you could post the photos you had found. Apparently all over the state of TN and as far as Chicago, people had found photos lying in their yards and so forth the morning after the tornadoes.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn't post mine right away cause I was busy, cause I am always busy. </span><b style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> :o/</b><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I did post them though and left for a soccer game out of town. When we got home someone had already responded to me, within like 4 hours or so. I was like...</span><i style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">is this for real?? </i><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I Facebook messaged the person and the Lady messaged me back telling me she went to church with this couple, that he was a minister. She gave me the couples names and told me they lost everything. She told me they lived in Sylvania, Alabama.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was flabbergasted. D and I </span><i style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Google mapped</i><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Sylvania, Alabama to the point where we live. It was, as the crow flies, about 140 miles away. I mean we were like....just....trying to think the unthinkable thought that their picture could be in my yard. It had traveled by tornado and high winds all that way to our yard????!!!!....... I started to look around the Fb website at all the other pics found from all over TN.......all turning up from Alabama the ones being claimed. That day when I posted my pics there were 2800 pics posted. Now there are so many Fb does not show a count.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I messaged Wendy back, the lady who has claimed the picture, and asked her where I should send the picture. She gave me the address and then we chatted back & forth online about this young couple in the picture, her own family and her community. Wendy is a teacher. She was on field trip 20 miles away from her own children...who turned out to be 50 yards away from one of the worst hit areas. She lost no one in her family, but several children that her kids went to school with perished. I learned we are both Christians. Wendy requested that I pray for her family and her community as they got ready to start back school alongside this young couple and the other people hanging on my refrigerator. </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While I was chatting with Wendy another lady hit the photo claiming it. She used the exact names of this young couple that Wendy had used in a private message. This lady was the aunt of the young man in the photograph, her name is Vicki.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Vicki and I have chatted back and forth a bit, both of us so glad to have the photo found. Vicki and I have surely made a connection with one another that is insane to happen over Fb having never met one another. I adore her. She is beautiful and her bright personality comes through the words she writes so clearly. I feel like If I saw her face to face it would be as if we had known one another forever...it's wild and mind blowing when I think of it. I had went from simply praying as I passed the photos to full concentration all day long when I wasn't doing something else. </span><u style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I couldn't <i>not </i>think of them</u><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She has told me this about this one picture.....The young couple's names are Jonathon & Caitlin...</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jonathon plays guitar and Caitlin bought him a beautiful blazing electric guitar to play in church a few yrs ago for his Bday. He cried like a baby when she gave it to him and he's not a crier lol the pic u found is from his Bday cookout that she gave it to him at :) his guitar is the only thing he wanted (and his Bibles) from the rubble. He found it... in 2 pieces :( it can't be fixed to play but I'm having it cleaned and put on brackets to hang on his wall. I wanna have the picture and a small plaque with the date she gave it to him attached to it. Anyway, I feel you finding this pic and praying for them has deep purpose. What I would like is you to sign your name and date found n where to the back of the pic. Then write a prayer like you've been praying for them and put in with this. I hope to put the prayer on back of the guitar :) so maybe on something sturdy. I just feel led to do this. This will be on his wall in his new room then in his new home with Caitlin :) forever :) thank you soooo much!!!!</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> "</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and this......</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There's so much I'd like you to know:) There have been 3 pics found, all 3 in diff parts of TN and all had Jonathon in them. You were the only one that talked about praying for him but it's still a lil odd. My sister had cancer when she was 17. She had just gotten married. There's a long testimony there but long story short she got pregnant while on treatments, the Dr and medical specialists begged her to abort the pregnancy. She didn't :) after his birth, her cancer was healed and her son was perfect. He's now 20, named Jonathon, still perfectly wonderful and has been preaching Gods Word since he was 16:) He's pretty special. Thanks for just being a part of his life now! ;-) we love you... :)"</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All night long after Vicki told me this story, God would wake me up to pray for them. All day long the next day, God would remind me that though I had not met this young man physically his testimony had reached the state of TN through his aunt and then through my own lips as I retold this story to others. The story itself is a testament to God of how he takes the awful things we encounter and turns them to good for His glory. To how He gives us joy in the midst of sorrow. How He unites his children, near and far away from each other, perfectly...so that they may weep together and rejoice together.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My life has been so touched by this one woman, Vicki, whose own mother and sister lost their homes entirely, to the point there was no rubble even...just dirt....whose nephew has lost his home to the point of rubble....while I am doing the best I can to encourage her and pray for her, her family and her community...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am trying to bless her......<i>BUT it is she who blesses me.</i> I feel so undeserving of the blessing and it's hard for me to accept it. </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Gods gifts are so sweet and good when you least expect them and from the people one least expects. While I am unable to go to them in Alabama and throw my arms around her neck or help her get her families lives back together......I can pray. </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">God must think its really important, cause he has been reminding me for two days, all day and all night. He does not leave me to my own thoughts, but fills my head with their faces so I will not neglect to pray for them and I am grateful for His diligence.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My family & I are doing this also........</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"<i>Aid for Alabama - </i></span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="dtstart">Wednesday, May 11 at 8:00am</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;">-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 15px;"><span class="dtend"><span class="value-title" title="2011-05-28T08:00:00"></span>May 28 at 8:00a - Lowe's of Harriman, TN</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: #444444; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> If you live in this area and need information please let me know and I will be more than happy to help you get the info you need.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Isaiah 40:29-31 </span></b><br />
<b style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><sup>29</sup></b><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> He gives strength to the weary</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> and increases the power of the weak.</span><br />
<b style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><sup>30</sup></b><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Even youths grow tired and weary,</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> and young men stumble and fall;</span><br />
<b style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><sup>31</sup></b><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> but those who hope in the LORD</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> will renew their strength.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They will soar on wings like eagles;</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> they will run and not grow weary,</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> they will walk and not be faint.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><sup style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">16</sup><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><sup style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">17</sup><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><sup style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">18</sup><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><sup style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">19</sup><span class="apple-converted-space" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God…..</span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Ephesians 3:16-19 </span><br />
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The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-66334419110590624462011-04-05T09:37:00.006-04:002011-04-05T14:38:26.528-04:00....after I slept off all my evil.....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YEeNemZZwwM/TZsVnl23LAI/AAAAAAAACow/xtGw3DKES40/s1600/evil_scale-238x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YEeNemZZwwM/TZsVnl23LAI/AAAAAAAACow/xtGw3DKES40/s1600/evil_scale-238x300.jpg" /></a></div>I am about to get my life put back together. I hope.<br />
<br />
This is an attempt to catch us all up to speed for the past month. It may take a few blogs though.<br />
<br />
Amy- I have been doing my thing driving all over Hell and creation in auto-pilot as usual for this time of year. Six or seven days a week we are going somewhere at some point during the day. I just try to breathe my way through each day knowing somehow it all gets done. <br />
<br />
I am still exercising my butt off....or should I say <i>my butt on</i>, cause nothing is still happening....on the scale anyway. I have taken about 10 of the 16 Power classes that I need to take at at the gym in order to get the free t-shirt that labels me as a weight lifter...sort of, in my eyes anyway. I am surely getting more muscles. I can see a bulge in my arms where there has never been one before in my life. My butt actually looks round like a butt should look, instead of just fading into my thighs. My stomach is certainly more flat than it was and my pants are fitting much better and some are even a little big or too big.<br />
<br />
The problem here is that my scale is sabotaging me. So I had D hide it so that I could only weigh on Sundays. The first Sunday I weighed 189. D was happy for me cause I was finally in the 180's. I wasn't, cause I knew the moment I ate a piece of ice I would gain 3 pounds. He scolded me for not enjoying that small victory. In my mind I have been this place so many times that I truly am not in the 180's till it is a consistent number.<br />
<br />
I was not too discouraged however. I gave myself a year to do this right and I have been sticking to it. I rarely cheat and I exercise 5 to 6 days a week 40 minutes or more. So this past Sunday I was excited to weigh because I ate especially well chosen foods that week. I knew I had pushed myself doing the exercise and I was hoping for a 187 minimum.<br />
<br />
The scale said 190. I became so angry inside that I thought I might grow some devil horns that would surely expel a blazing fury so hot they'd burn the roof off my house. I controlled it though the best I could. I left the bathroom, went to make coffee and get the kids moving.........and then the evil tidal wave of death and destruction that likes to throw stuff when I am infuriated hit me.<br />
<br />
So I marched right back to the bathroom where D was blowing his hair dry, picked up the scale, stomped back to the front door, stepped out onto my front stoop, and I launched that scale as far as I could with my new arm muscles "<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">that weigh more than fat</span></b></i>." I meant for it to bounce on the ground and bust every spring and gear inside of it. On the first bounce as it hit the ground I felt a minuscule amount of satisfaction. I wanted to throw it one more time but I refrained cause I knew I was going to church in a couple hours and I needed to get rid of this evil in me before I could praise the Lord properly <u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">for the good things</span></u> in my life.<br />
<br />
The kids get up. D comes out of the bathroom to eat breakfast.<br />
<br />
D- Where's the scale?<br />
<br />
CB & Sky - She threw it in the front yard.<br />
<br />
M- <i>You threw the scale in the front yard?</i><br />
<br />
CB- Yeah she did! It went way over there <i>see?!</i><br />
<br />
D- (looking out the breakfast nook window) Nice distance.<br />
<br />
A- I threw it into the front yard. Yes I did. If anybody brings that scale back into this house I swear bad things will happen to you. I don't know what they are, but don't test me.<br />
<br />
When I left for church the idiot scale was in the front yard. When I came home from church the idiot scale was in the front yard. When I came home from the gym the idiot scale was not in the front yard. I was so mentally exhausted from my emotional torture of weighing that morning, only to find all my good eating and exercise had been in vain....months and months of not eating delicious morsels of goodness, shin splints that wake me up in the middle of the night, sweating, sweating, sweating, pushing, pushing, pushing....only to still weigh 190....I took a bath and went to bed at 6:30pm and didn't get up till 7:00 am the next morning.<br />
<br />
BUT, not BUTT, but.....BUT, during the Power class at the gym I had likened myself to this fairly big woman in the class, like we were equals in weight. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror at the gym and I noticed that I didn't look her size at all. I mean I was still bigger than I need to be of course, but I wasn't as big as I perceived myself to be by the number on the scale. The scale doesn't change the fact that I can feel and see a muscle in my arm that has never been there before. It doesn't change the fact that some of my pants are too big now, not all of them, but some of them. Those are my small victories, that I should thank God for. <br />
<br />
<u>I am going to choose</u> to dwell on those things. So I can be thankful in all things to God for giving me endurance and patience to persevere when my flesh wants to quit, the spirit in me is still willing to keep my temple, in which Jesus resides, clean and healthy.<br />
<br />
I am not going to weigh anymore. My sister in Christ, Sarah, told me I should pick out a pair of pants I want to get into and use those as a gage for my success. I think that is the better way to go for me.....for my family too.<br />
<br />
I found this note hanging out of my drawer where I keep my exercise wear in my closet the morning after I slept off my evil. ( you can click on this pic to get a better view if need be)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nBYCREGYpEY/TZsT6CsN0uI/AAAAAAAACos/6NoAWWkLVk4/s1600/img_3536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nBYCREGYpEY/TZsT6CsN0uI/AAAAAAAACos/6NoAWWkLVk4/s400/img_3536.jpg" width="325" /></a></div><br />
My heart overflowed and spilled all over the place with love for this oldest son of mine. <br />
<br />
<u>I CAN DO</u> all things through Christ who strengthens me...... Philippians 4:13<br />
<br />
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*The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-89172295014390234982011-03-16T11:31:00.003-04:002011-03-16T14:50:09.113-04:00Random thought of the day......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-m6stRwfY3hE/TYDVuaKevFI/AAAAAAAACoc/3-aGJ_0zhic/s1600/IMG_0436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-m6stRwfY3hE/TYDVuaKevFI/AAAAAAAACoc/3-aGJ_0zhic/s200/IMG_0436.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iqovuyy00HE/TYDWHCO62GI/AAAAAAAACok/6fuRPmo7zTA/s1600/IMG_0429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iqovuyy00HE/TYDWHCO62GI/AAAAAAAACok/6fuRPmo7zTA/s200/IMG_0429.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-YoFv9AxPnFQ/TYDV7Fo3SGI/AAAAAAAACog/oQJFfpiUxRo/s1600/IMG_0419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-YoFv9AxPnFQ/TYDV7Fo3SGI/AAAAAAAACog/oQJFfpiUxRo/s200/IMG_0419.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div>These jellyfish have no idea who I am.</div><div>They have no idea that they are the wallpaper on my desk top...</div><div><br />
</div><div>......for that matter, they don't even know what a desk top is. </div><div><br />
</div><div> It's an unthinkable jellyfish thing.</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-15077390872026521932011-02-26T10:51:00.005-05:002011-02-26T10:59:20.611-05:00Do these pants look too tight?.........I have been exercising my butt off lately. I determined myself to a years worth of healthy eating and exercise to see if I could really change myself, as a whole, by the time I am 41. I am not "dieting" per say, cause that don't freaking work, just being more aware of what I put into my body and at what quantity.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>So for over 5 weeks now I have been exercising about 40 minutes a day. Mostly treadmill and elliptical. In this time I have managed to shave 16 minutes off my 2 mile run. so I went from 40 minutes to get to 2 miles on the treadmill to 24 minutes to get to 2 miles on the treadmill. Which sounds pretty good to me. I should be seeing some weight come off right?</div><div><br />
</div><div>W R O N G!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! For 4 weeks I was exercising commited, eating properly and NOTHING!!!!!!!!! Pull my hair out strand by strand with a pair of freaking tweezers people!!!!!!!!!!!</div><div><br />
</div><div>My pants are surely fitting much better, but that flippin scale in my bathroom is SATAN.</div><div><br />
</div><div>My sister told me that I shouldn't count on the scale to show that I am growing more fit, to be patient, that if my clothes were fitting better something was happening......I should focus on that. She also said that I needed to add some sort of weight resistance to my routine. That would help burn calories.</div><div><br />
</div><div>So I did.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Last Friday, not yesterday but the one before it, I lamented to Derrick that when I got on the scale that morning....if it didn't show I had lost some weight I was was going to pick it up and throw it into the front yard and if he brought it back into the house I would kill him with it.</div><div><br />
</div><div>So I stood on the scale.....it read 195. I was some what satisfied. I know most of you are like <i>WHAT</i>? She was happy with that number??? She needs to lose some weight! Well, duh. </div><div><br />
</div><div>But let me tell you this, when a fat girl commits to exercise and eating seriously healthy and really tries hard for 4 weeks and doesn't shed a single dag gone pound and some days even gains 4 pounds from breakfast to lunch (and Maysie is my witness on this) that is discouraging as shizzle. I mean I felt like I lost 28 hours of my life in vain. I don't want to be a muscular & fit 200 pound girl. I want to be a reasonable weight fit girl.</div><div><br />
</div><div>So I saw the 195 number, this meant the scale had moved down 5 pounds.</div><div><br />
</div><div>D- Well....what does it say?</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- 195...</div><div><br />
</div><div>D- (breathing sigh of relief for me, cause he knows my temper these days is not controlled easily) Oh thank God....</div><div><br />
</div><div>....but this was the day I gained 4 pounds by lunch and ate the exact same thing D ate for breakfast that was a "healthy breakfast."</div><div><br />
</div><div>I tried not to think of though. I kept on with the idiot treadmill and adding the idiot weights to my routine. </div><div><br />
</div><div>This morning when I weighed, I weighed 193. I think it is surely the weights that is helping. So that was really good advice my sister gave me.......for <i>my body</i> anyway.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I have gotten to the point that the exercise is becoming something I feel like I need to do everyday...<b><i><u>not want</u></i></b> to do everyday, <u style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">but need</u>.....and if I don't, I feel like I have cheated myself. <b style="font-style: italic;">Who said that? </b></div><div><br />
</div><div><b style="font-style: italic;"></b> In what parallel universe would I have ever spoke those words. Cause forever it seemed to me that while I was wasting time on a treadmill things weren't getting done in my house somewhere else.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Yesterday Zac had soccer practice and I decided to go a little early and try to "jog" around the track. I wanted to go before everyone else got there so if I looked like an elephant being stung in the butt while skinning a tight rope no one would see it but me and Z. Z is the best encourager for me. He constantly pushes me telling me at least I am trying. He doesn't want me to be unhealthy, over weight and die an early death because I didn't at least try. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I said to him, "Do these exercise pants look too tight?"</div><div><br />
Z- Who cares they are exercise pants mom, they are supposed to be tight.</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- Yeah but, you know, your friend's parents will see me and all...</div><div><br />
</div><div>Z- So what, at least you are trying. They look fine, they look good in fact. I don't think of you looking fat that way. You always look nice to me.</div><div><br />
</div><div>My heart felt really good.</div><div><br />
</div><div>...the very first time we went to the gym together, I was feeling nervous and intimidated and relayed this to him.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Z- Mom it's a gym, all kinds of people go to a gym. Not just body builders. There will be old people, young people, fat people, and skinny people....you are in the middle of all of those. Just suck it up we are going in.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Which we did and had a pretty good time. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Back to the track.....I believed that if I could run 2 miles in 24 minutes on a treadmill I should surely be able to run a minimum of 1 mile on the track.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Um, wrong. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Running on a surface that does not give tried to make me pee in my pants. I walked the first lap to warm up, then ran 1 lap holding my bladder by sheer power of the mind, walked it off 1/4 of the 3rd lap & ran 3/4 of the rest of it, walked 1/2 of the 4th lap & ran 1/2 of it....then my walking buddy showed up and we walked about another mile and quit.</div><div><br />
</div><div>My mind thought running at the track was not fun at all. I don't desire to do it ever again. I will walk that track from now on. I can't say why, but the treadmill with all its faults is so much easier to do. My brother-in-law runs the marathons and he's in the running clubs, my sister she runs the 8 miles and she is fixin to run some big run and all....I don't know how they do it, I really don't.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I guess I will just keep on keepin on till I get somewhere that is satisfactory for me. I still have 10 months or so to get to my one year goal and assess what has become of this commitment.</div><div><br />
</div><div>We are getting 2 truck loads of mulch today.......hopefully this will appease my need to fill a space in the day with exercise.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I don't want to wear skinny jeans. I just want to feel satisfied when I look in the mirror, whatever weight that is.................as long as it's below 150. I could be satisfied with 150 and fit. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I think.</div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-10996730739455551962011-02-19T13:00:00.001-05:002011-02-19T19:23:11.884-05:00I am just not feeling your flow............<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bg5WqVxHygM/TWAFAyO99YI/AAAAAAAACoQ/jfrEmdmXgcU/s1600/hanging+by+a+thread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Bg5WqVxHygM/TWAFAyO99YI/AAAAAAAACoQ/jfrEmdmXgcU/s320/hanging+by+a+thread.jpg" width="233" /></a></div>um.............I been busy.<br />
<br />
Looks like this:<br />
<br />
Monday - school, treadmill for two miles, shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people, clogging studio, soccer field, clogging studio, home @ 10:30 P freaking M.<br />
<br />
Tuesday - school, treadmill for two miles, shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people, this is appt afternoon and errands on this side of town, or maybe some yard work, and hopefully dinner with the fam if no one knocks their teeth out or needs stitches.<br />
<br />
Wednesday - school, treadmill for two miles, shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people, orthodontist, church<br />
<br />
Thursday - school, shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people at 5:50am, pack a cooler full of food and drinks, head for the home school co-op at the butt crack of dawn, to the gym, grocery store, home and rest for a couple hours, then to soccer field for two 1/2 hours sometimes.<br />
<br />
Friday - school, hate on the treadmill and curse it... cause for 5 weeks I been hittin the thing and have lost a whopping TWO pounds (I know right? Don't say <i>push away from the table Amy</i>...CAUSE I AM!), shove some kind of nutrition down the throats of all my people, and hope for some yard work that wasn't done Tuesday to get done, then dinner with the fam if no one knocks their teeth out or needs stitches.<br />
<br />
Saturday - treadmill for two miles, D shoves a real nutritious breakfast down all of our throats(this morning - amazing Belgian waffles with bananas on top for me with a tad of syrup for taste and turkey bacon...even dairy free ones for Sky), soccer and the to the gym.<br />
<br />
Sunday - sheer chaos getting ready for church, church, cook, clean it up, decompress for the rest of the day .....cause guess what? Monday always is the next day, it never fails.<br />
<br />
Not that any of this is relevant to anyone butt me...but I can remember when one of my best girlfriends, Cindi & I swore we would NEVER be on this type of schedule. Both her schedule and mine are so crowded now with our children getting older and into activities that we NEVER see one another. This is such a loss to me. It feels like one of my arms is missing or something. Like I am always looking for something and never find it.<br />
<br />
This is something I HATE......when I catch myself saying, "I'm sorry we haven't _______(fill in the blank) but, we've just been so busy."<br />
<br />
This says to me......<i>I am busy and I don't have time for <u>you</u>.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
While it may be true that we are busy and I completely understand when folks say it to me, <u>it's just not how I want to be. </u><br />
<br />
I bumped into Sarah at the community center the other night signing CB up for soccer (I am surely a dang glutton for punishment) and D to coach his team.....cause CB said he would play and D did not have to be coerced into coaching, cause he actually enjoyed it last year much to his surprise.<br />
<br />
Okay...I bumped into Sarah, who is my next door neighbor and also one of my best girlfriends ......I hadn't spent any time with her in weeks.....so strange to casually pass each other and cram small talk and important talk into 15 to 20 minutes of <b><i>go</i></b> time.<br />
<br />
I also ran into another neighbor at the community center. He tried to get me to sign up for a <i>learn about the constitution</i> class that lasts all day on a Saturday. <b>He told me</b> that <b>he would just come by my house on Friday and tell me</b> all about his business at the community center. When I explained to him I was busy on Friday, he pressed he would come <i>Saturday</i>....<br />
<br />
Sorry, busy.<br />
<br />
<i>Sunday then</i>.....church....<br />
<br />
<i>Okay then Monday</i>....um, how about NO!<br />
<br />
Sorry busy all day.....which is the truth. He seemed to be kinda put off that I didn't jump on this opportunity.<br />
<br />
In my mind I'm all, <i>Dude, I am here to sign up for soccer, I don't really care about your class, I am super sure you are a well meaning, cool fellow, but I am just not feeling your flow, you know what I mean.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
I'm not speaking for Sarah, but <i>I am kinda</i>....I don't think she was feeling his flow 100% either. We were both exhausted for different reasons and trying to cram a months worth of missed conversation into 15 minutes of paper work and walking to the car.<br />
<br />
Besides, May took a constitution class ALL DANG YEAR last year and I do not want to sit through another constitution class <u>on a Saturday</u>.....at least not until Obama isn't president anymore.....<br />
<br />
.....whatever, don't be a hater Obama lovers.<br />
<br />
Sooooooo......at one time Cindi & I had decided to move to the compound and just combine our families and divide up chores, cooking, and schooling....she was going to be to light blue dress family and I the beige dress family....I have another friend who wants to move to the compound with us I told her she would have to be the lavender dress family cause blue was already taken. <br />
<br />
On the compound, all the outside stuff that contaminates and takes up all our time is a mute point. I can have my own chickens and some goats like other good little home school families. I won't have to pay ridiculous amounts for gas every week cause I don't have to go anywhere. We can all just get on our compound bus and drive together....well I don't know.... that would be to many kids at the grocery store, that's a not desirable thought. They would have to stay home and knit or something.....let me shake that thought off.<br />
<br />
There is much to said for the simple life.<br />
<br />
In fact when we have our community yard sale, I'm going to go nuts getting rid of every dang thing in my house that I have to dust or keep track of. What I don't sell I am thinking of just putting a free sign on it and letting the scavengers have at it......I swear.<br />
<br />
Okay, gotta go, the clock is chasing me around the house reminding me that he comes first....and now D has fixed the kids lunch and he fixed Sky the most delicious smelling dairy free pizza. He's awesome, I love him so much.<br />
<br />
I so gotta tell you about May's research paper for biology. She did it on <i>Genetically Modified Foods</i>, it has me completely wigged out. You know how I was all on "the government is trying to kill us" conspiracy thing? This paper didn't help that runaway train.The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-45945395563869636802011-02-09T11:00:00.006-05:002011-02-26T09:41:57.427-05:00an egg- laying sea turtle & was hit by a gas-guzzling S.U.V........Dear Blog,<br />
<br />
The other day I saw a bumper sticker that said, "Nuke a Gay Whales for Jesus"<br />
<br />
Which goes right along with the Bizarro cartoon in the paper..." A quadruple environmental tragedy today here, Brian, as a whale, tangled in a tune net full of dolphins, beached itself on top of an egg- laying sea turtle & was hit by a gas-guzzling S.U.V."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TVKlphfvv0I/AAAAAAAACoE/UNiFSxguDoc/s1600/Bizarro+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TVKlphfvv0I/AAAAAAAACoE/UNiFSxguDoc/s400/Bizarro+002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Then there was this article I read in Parade some time ago that told me....<br />
<br />
...it was time for back to school <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;"><i>when, for many families, the ABC's meet ADHD</i>...<i>according to the CDC 4.5 million children have been diagnosed</i>, but "experts" <i>don't know what causes it. New research points to pesticides particularly organophosphate- a man made toxin originally developed for chemical warfare and now used extensively in agriculture. Scientists in the journal <b>Environmental Health Perspectives </b>write that children exposed to this in the womb have a higher chance of developing attention problems by age 5.</i></span><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
the article goes on and on and then states<i> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">that possibly one million children are misdiagnosed. That some children just may be inattentive or behave poorly because they are 5....</span></i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
but to be better safe than sorry <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">always wash your fruit and vegetables first.......</span></i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>..... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">and take your child's age into consideration before getting an evaluation</span>........</i>um really? This tid bit of info goes right along with do not put your hands flatly on an eye of the stove if it is cherry red, you may burn your freaking skin off moron.<br />
<br />
At the risk of sounding completely judgmental and governmental conspiracy driven......this is my take on some things that make me want to poke my own eyeballs out or give someone a paper cut on purpose.<br />
<br />
If your child spends most of his/her time in the house, on the computer, playing hand held games and watching TV and eating crap food and he/ she is getting on your nerves....that child does not have ADD or ADHD.<br />
<br />
That child has PDD, Parental Disengagement Disorder. Some parents need to get off their butts and cut the flipping TV off, get off the internet, and parent their children properly.<br />
<br />
Do I believe some children respond better when taking medication? Absolutely.<br />
<br />
Some kids need it and they need their parents to administer it to them properly...they need to freaking give the kid the medication themselves, make sure the kid freaking swallows it, and makes sure it given every day at the same dag gone time....I know a kid in 3rd grade, whose parent tells him to take his medication which, he says he does, then he spits it out, his mother does not make him take it regularly nor does she refill his scripts when he's out. That kind of parenting should be a dang crime. She is doing her child a severe injustice in life.....and it affects all the children and adults this child comes in contact with....all day long.<br />
<br />
On the medication as prescribed, the child is a different child altogether.<br />
<br />
Some of the kids though, are just drugged up and therefore more quiet and sedentary...and more pleasing to the parent who wants to do what the heck they want to do with minimal parenting.<br />
<br />
How is it that 4.5 million children come to be diagnosed with ADHD?? It is absurd.<br />
<br />
In the extreme sarcastic corners of my mind I see a woman with a colic baby and the doc's saying, "<i>Here, just put some Ritalin in the bottle, this child has ADHD. Better yet, you take the medication yourself and then breast feed, it's more naturally administered that way and won't damage his self esteem as he becomes an adult."</i><br />
<br />
I swear some mornings while we are trying to school I vow with my hands raised to the ceiling, to put Cole on the yellow bus and never homeschool him...cause he gets on my nerves some days. He behaves disorderly, disruptive, inattentive, and certainly hyper.......why?<br />
<br />
Because I am schooling the other three, and he wants me to sit in the floor and play cars, read to him, color with him, watch a movie with him, he wants Zac to wrestle with him, or Maysie to shoot video's with him....does he have ADHD? No! I could totally take him to the doctor explain his behavior and I swear I believe I could acquire medication. However, the minute one of us switches our time to him to <u><b>engage</b></u>, the behavior immediately changes. <br />
<br />
I don't mean we watch a movie with him or something surely quiet...I mean engage in an activity. It may be playing cars, walking the dog, putting up laundry together or making beds together...his behavior changes instantly.<br />
<br />
I do believe they put entirely to much crap in our food. God did not make our food to have a longer lasting shelf life or more nutrients and vitamins than He put into them Himself, certain small chickens aren't supposed to be unnaturally plump for our consumption.<br />
<br />
For sure some children are reacting to be over chemical-ed.....and certainly any one of my children could be one of them. I mean for pete's sake we deal with OCD issues constantly in two children, two children have digestion issues & even I have been have had some issues with food lately & stomach pains, two of the children could be considered "hyper" by some......I mean pick a child, any child, any where....allergies galore these days, environmental and FOOD allergies more now than ever! Autism, through the roof. Cancer, through the roof. Alzheimers......Why???<br />
<br />
Cause in the name of the almighty dollar our food is genetically modified and chemical-ed, if that is even a word.<br />
<br />
I hate to sound manic, but gee wiz folks, I need some people to give me a break from being inundated with politically correct bullcrap. I am bored with that and unaffected.<br />
<br />
I need some parents to quit excusing their children with ADHD and dag gone do some parenting that includes showing respect and discipline.<br />
<br />
I need to be detoxed from all the chemicals.<br />
<br />
I need some Midol & Lindor chocolate truffles probably too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
.The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-65768804473375794022011-01-25T10:32:00.006-05:002011-01-25T10:51:31.977-05:00Yo!.................<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TT7k4N7kPRI/AAAAAAAACn4/D-SnNjqxTR0/s1600/yo-mtv-raps-20th-annv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="143" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TT7k4N7kPRI/AAAAAAAACn4/D-SnNjqxTR0/s200/yo-mtv-raps-20th-annv.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">In the car on the way to the home school co-op on Thursdays we listen to 102.3 in the morning. Its one of the pop stations here. The DJ's are pretty clean in the morning and funny. One them is "type A" I think and with all the OCD stuff we got going on, we find some of his stuff pretty funny. Two of the DJ's give the type A guy a hard time but, as I see it, he handles them well. In the afternoon though, the music is pretty dang iffy. We end up having to turn the channel.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">I remember when my mom would have a conniption fit if she saw us watching MTV when it first came on. My brother and I would watch it while she was at work, after school. That's also when rap music was getting a foot in the door. Remember "Yo! MTV Raps" with Ed Lover & Doctor Dre? So dang funny....</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">Anyway, we got in the car after their classes to head on home. The radio station was still on 102.3 and this song was playing with a pretty good beat, that sort of made you want to dance and get day rolling, so we left it there. Feeling pretty good heading for Game Stop to return some stuff, getting hair cuts, and then going to the gym.....feeeeeeeling gooooood.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">Almost through the week and heading for the weekend. thump thump thumpin, dancin in the car, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Sippin sizzurp in my ride, like Three 6</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Now I’m feelin so fly like a G6</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Like a G6, Like a G6</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Now I’m feelin so fly like a G6</span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><b><i>What?</i></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">We always listen to the words in the songs...cause OCD..... God forbid someone hears something that causes bad thoughts, has a cuss word, something that provokes bad thoughts to go wild and confessions nonstop for days. We are all usually very careful about what goes into the minds of people in my house..........CAUSE IT WREAKS HAVOC...AAAAAAHHHHHH</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">This day though it took a while for us to catch up with the song cause we were all so happy to be done with classes and heading back towards the casa.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">(song going on)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">"Poppin bottles in the ice, like a blizzard</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">When we drink we do it right gettin slizzard</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Sippin sizzurp in my ride, like Three 6</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Now I’m feelin so fly like a G6</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Like a G6, Like a G6</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Now I’m feelin so fly like a G6</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Gimme that Mo-Moet</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Gimme that Cry-Crystal</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Ladies love my style, at my table gettin wild</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Get them bottles poppin, we get that drip and that drop</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Now give me 2 more bottles cuz you know it don’t stop</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">(808) Hell Yeaa</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Drink it up, drink-drink it up,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">When sober girls around me, they be actin like they drunk"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;"><b>......um Z & I fighting to flip the station quickly.</b></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">um, yeah, that song is.........<i> not good</i>.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">So Z is all, "What is a G6?"</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A- I think its a plane or jet or something, maybe that's why she feels "fly."</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">S- She said she was sipping scissors, getting DRUNK!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><i>Oh gosh, here we go.....</i></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A- Sky, nobody drinks scissors and gets drunk, thats retarded. I don't know what she said, who cares about that girl anyway, she's gross.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">distraction, distraction, distraction till we get focused on something else and she has forgotten it.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A couple days later Z and I were looking up some songs for our MP3's and decided to look up the words to that song.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">Z- What is slizzard?</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A- I don't know, look it up. (we google <i>what is slizzard</i>)</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">Urban Dictionary tells us it is a "slutty lizzard."</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A- Well that makes no sense. She is getting <i>slutty lizzard</i>? </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">We giggle a little. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">We redo the search and it tells us this is the urban word for <i>getting drunk.</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Z- So she is getting drunk on sizzurp. Well what is that?</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">So we google... <i>What is sizzurp?</i></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">OOOOOOkay. Sizzurp is a "<a href="http://blogs.findlaw.com/blotter/2010/09/what-is-sizzurp-and-why-is-it-illegal.html">purple drank</a>" (this is a link BTW if you want to read for your self) made out of cough syrup, codeine, and some fizzy beverage from the grocery store....mostly grape.</span></span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A G6 is in fact a fancy jet in the extreme price zone.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">Z- Well this song is certainly full of furry bunnies and rainbows now isn't it.....</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">We cut up a little more, then determine that this song belongs in the bottomless trash pit along with anything <i>Ke$ha</i> sings. Cause she is a complete moron who offers ZERO to young females that is positive.</span></span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">So this whole song that young people listen to, sing and dance too....is about a girl/guy using a homemade illegal concoction to get drunk at the club. She is feeling like a G6 because she is high...</span><i style="line-height: 15px;">not fly.</i></span><br />
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</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">I am serious, I hate to sound freaking old and all but the songs that filter through our young peoples minds are contamination at its fullest. The gal Ke$ha tells young people she brushes her teeth with Jack Daniels and tries to get tipsy, she sings she wears ripped up stockings looking sexy with Jesus hanging on her neck, the whole time she's cussing it up during the song. (I looked this song up after seeing her on Dick Clark's New Years thing acting like, lets see....<i>an idiot</i>) They have actually made her music into the Kids Bop crap they sell on TV.....I am just astounded.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">I know we had Guns and Roses in our time and rap music was getting popular back when my mom was conniption fitting. But I swear music gets more and more bold promoting things that are not good for our bodies in every way.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">Music is huge in teen life. The things we filter into them is exactly what we are going to get out of them. Its sad to me that this is quality we are serving on platinum, diamond crusted platters for our young people to aspire too. </span></span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">There is a gaping hole of no hope in getting slizzard or brushing ones teeth with Jack Daniels.</span></span><br />
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</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">I don't expect young people to listen only to Christian music, cause that isn't all I listen to. I enjoy all kinds of music from Pavarotti, Hank Williams, Jr, and Dougie Fresh to Yiruma, James Taylor, & Third Day. But gosh, it troubles me terribly the stuff so boldly flying out of the mouths of celebrities and media that bring no good to those who hear.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">It seems like a more and more impossible task to compete with the world for young peoples attention for Jesus.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">All the while diligent Christ lovers are looking to turn young people onto Him and they view Christianity as hypocritical, constrictive, and old school. Constantly being bombarded by famous people telling them "Heaven seems like a boring place, maybe they can a have room there and vacation in Hell a few days a year."</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">That scares the crap out of me. When I hear music like this, celebrities spouting off their careless words, and the media in general, including gaming geared towards kids who love things their parents hate......I have to pray hard for Christ to give me peace that he is in control. That His victory will be so in the end. More specifically that I am equipped to witness properly to young people who seek my attention. So that I may fully understand what it takes for me to show them that Jesus Christ is more than "boring," He's my everything and no happiness in my body exist without him.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">I have to be ready. I hope every time I talk with a young person they seek the thing in me which is different from that which they get from the world. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: tahoma, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">The ability to see beyond the now and aspire to the things that matter eternally.</span></span><br />
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</span></span></div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-44932132407693424522011-01-18T09:54:00.001-05:002011-01-18T09:56:18.317-05:00there were those two grasshoppers on top of a mushroom......This past Christmas we were all at the breakfast table eating cereal one morning. One of the kids noticed the Trix box had the theme of Christmas Halloween or Halloween Christmas. I hadn't noticed it before. It was absurd and it put me off severely. I haven't bought a box of Trix since.<br /><br />...but May on the other hand ran with the theme in another absurd direction that was funny to the rest of us...<br /><br />M (insert creepy Vincent Price type voice) - And then baby Jesus was born (insert evil villain laugh). A ghost in the night told the wise men to "<i>fear not</i>" and led them to the manger. There they dressed baby Jesus in a bumble bee costume and took him trick or treating.<br /><br />.................................................................<br /><br />One day I had served chicken and stars soup, minus the soup so it was just the stars mostly, for lunch to Cole. The kids began to discuss how he wasn't even chewing the stars, just swallowing hole mouthfuls. The discussion then led to any foods that went <i>in your attic</i> and came <i>out of your basement</i> in the same shape, just isn't good and right....like corn for example.<br /><br />M- I suppose those stars will come out as stars then?<br /><br />Z- yes<br /><br />M imitates CB on the pot - Oh look, stars!! I get to make a wish now! I wish I could go to Dollywood (insert flushing sound) I wish Netflix was free! (flush, flush)<br /><br />....and so on in this manner....<br /><br />(insert <i>When You Wish Upon a Star</i> song)<br />When you wish your poop goodbye, down the toilet it will flyyyy...<br /><br />B.o.B. song while staring into the toilet<br />"like airplanes in the night sky, like shooting stars.....I could really use a wish right now"<br /><br />grunting and pushing noises.....Wow!! I got a lot of wishes this time!!<br /><br />flush, flush..."It's like the Milky Way!"<br /><br />"That tasted <i>out of this world</i>. I am so full, I feel like I <i>ate the universe</i>."<br /><br />(Steve C. I put this one in here for you :oD )<br />.........................................<br /><br />Doing biology one day with May, Z overhears a conversation about mushrooms being asexual....<br /><br />Z- It's just awkward....mushroom sex<br /><br />M- Yeah, well, just be glad you don't have to have "<i>the mushroom sex talk." </i>Once while down at the dock, I saw two mushrooms getting a little too heavy on the top end, i<i>f you know what I mean</i>...<br /><br />A- MAY! That's enough...<br /><br />M- (serious voice) <i>I'm just sayin</i>....I said to them "G<i>et a <u>shroom </u>, why don't ya?!</i>".....I mean they have to consider the baby birds for petes sake.<br /><br />We laugh a little..<br /><br />Z- There are those penis mushrooms that sprout in our flower bed with the mulch.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TTWitFnvF1I/AAAAAAAACn0/8RFBjzq0FD0/s1600/IMG_1257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TTWitFnvF1I/AAAAAAAACn0/8RFBjzq0FD0/s200/IMG_1257.JPG" width="150" /></a><br /><br />A- OOOkay, that's stinkhorn, we are done with this conversation. I am uncomfortable with mushroom sex talk.<br /><br />M- One time these two dragon flies landed on Sky and she was all, " Hey May, look at the two dragonflies on me...they are stuck together. Should I try to pull them apart?"<br /><br />Z & A snicker a little<br /><br />M- I was, "No!" then I swatted them away saying, <i>not in front of the children!</i><br /><i><br /></i><br />A<i>- </i>May....<br /><br />M- Just sayin....<i>some bonds weren't made to be broken...</i><br /><i><br /></i><br />Z laughs, cause he always laughs at her jokes.<br /><br />A- May.....<br /><br />M- ...there were those two grasshoppers <i>on top of a mushroom</i> that time too. I swear it's like Sodom and Gomorrah around here.<br /><br />Z still chuckling though trying not to pay attention to her.<br /><br />A- May, yer done.<br /><br />M- I'm just sayin....<br /><br /><i><br /></i><br /><i><br /></i>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-53270395950030388732011-01-15T20:41:00.003-05:002011-01-15T20:50:11.789-05:00wear the charm instead...........sometime ago stuff cause I need to play catch up.......<div><br /></div><div>I had taken Sky to her orthopedic doctor and Maysie tagged along. So happened that day that Derrick flew in from a conference in Florida. He came straight from the airport to the Dr.'s office as a surprise. The office was full of old folks getting their toenails clipped and new shoes and what not. When D came in the girls were so glad to see him that they jumped up and made a fuss right in the office. The old folks liked the ruckus. D settled into a chair next to a much older than us lady. We began to discuss the weather as it was looking VERY stormy that afternoon.</div><div><br /></div><div>A- It's getting dark toward Oak Ridge...</div><div><br /></div><div>Old Lady - You should try living in Michigan!</div><div><br /></div><div>A- Why's that? Is it darker there than here? (not being fresh with her, just curious)</div><div><br /></div><div>Old Lady - (cricket, cricket...Me, D, & May catching each others eyes)</div><div><br /></div><div>A- Well, I don't think I 'd like it in Michigan...it's so cold there huh?</div><div><br /></div><div>Old Lady- Oh...I don't know. I don't remember, But I do remember my brother had the whooping cough at a week old.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am like...what the heck does that have to do with the price of gold in China??</div><div><br /></div><div>So all 4 of us squeeze into the room designated for our visit with the doctor. I was unsure whether we had seen this doctor in the practice before so I was giving Sky the run down of things not to do <i><b>as usual</b></i>. In all ways Sky is brutally honest. The OCD makes her say the truth in the most detailed way so as not to tell a lie.</div><div>When she gets nervous she will blurt out random facts....true things that could be embarrassing if I were so inclined to be. I used to be, but now I am used to it and know to expect random facts that cause cringing.</div><div><br /></div><div>So the regular speech goes like this...</div><div><br /></div><div>A- Look, I don't know which doctor you are seeing today. Please keep your random blurting to yourself. Hold it, HOLD it, HOLD IT! Do not say things that I have to explain and side track our visit. Do not say, "I farted" or "Mom broke a wooden spoon on a book cause Zac didn't understand math averages" or "Your breath stinks." If it comes into your brain, HOLD IT! </div><div><br /></div><div>May- Sky, for real, don't act like a freak. DO NOT FART, this room is small.</div><div><br /></div><div>D- Yeah, this room is small.</div><div><br /></div><div>All of these things have happened more than once. Her gastro doc thinks she is so cute and funny he is often sidetracked. He gets so silly with her whacked out comments that she has him so giddy he neglects to see the seriousness of my worries. Then two weeks later we have to come back cause we were dismissed casually....."cause she appeared healthy" and I appeared <i>like a stick in the mud, </i>as usual, and overzealous. The second visit usually gets some stuff done.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyone who knows Sky...knows her digestive system, mostly her bowels are not right. Our children's pastor can call it if she has let it go...even silently, it's that distinct. My mom can testify to the foul things that must be inside of her...and so could my dad <i>God love him</i>.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I tell her..."<i>Instead</i> focus on the charm. You know how to do that. Put it on and <u>wear that</u> instead of the OCD. I can't do OCD today Sky, I mean it. Show daddy how you charm the doctors. He hasn't seen this before.</div><div><br /></div><div>M- <i>Oh Lord </i>Mom really??</div><div><br /></div><div>.....the doc comes in, one we have seen before. Smiles, smiles, smiles, handshaking, explain what the situation is, he starts checking Sky's feet. She turns the charm up about 5 notches. Longest eyelashes in the world batting slowly, I think her eyes became bluer or something on command, talking really nice, and doing just what he says to the tee, smiling at him like she is in love with him, manners galore, big words and intelligence spewing from her mouth to engage in his conversation....he calls her sweetheart & cutie pie, he smiles showing all his teeth. The doc says amazing things about her this and her that, has her walk up and down the halls for the nurses as if she is <i>"on the catwalk"</i> they ooooh and aaaah and tell her she is the bomb basically. I mean I really expected a mirror ball to descend the from the ceiling and someone to give her a scepter & cloak</div><div><br /></div><div>The doctor gushes a bit more while finishing off THOROUGHLY and excuses himself to get some stuff. </div><div><br /></div><div>The door shuts.</div><div><br /></div><div>S - ...aaaaaand <b><i><u>that's</u></i></b> how it's done people. (grinning from ear to ear) </div><div><br /></div><div>D - Oh Lord. We're in trouble.</div><div><br /></div><div>May- Sky, jeez....better <i><b>that</b></i> than Turrets Syndrome, at least it's pleasant.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-3773681861781963292011-01-04T21:41:00.001-05:002011-01-05T08:37:42.784-05:00it's good the cuss word cop doesn't have a billy stick........This morning CB was taking a bath while I was getting Skylar ready to go for her dental appointment for sealants. He was going over things that made "Jesus cry"......or rain fall from the sky, Jesus' tears.<br />
<br />
I relayed that I always thought that rain was Jesus overflowing his bath water.<br />
<br />
To this Sky responded that my thinking could not be right because Jesus was perfect in every way. He wouldn't be dirty and surely not forgetful in turning off His bath water.<br />
<br />
CB tells us when people use "t words" it makes Jesus cry.<br />
<br />
A- Well, what are "t words?"<br />
<br />
CB- Like cuss words or saying "Oh my God" instead of saying "gosh."<br />
<br />
S- Cole you always say <i>Oh my God.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
CB- No I don't Sky!<br />
<br />
S- yes you do liar<br />
<br />
A- Sky! Really?!<br />
<br />
S- Well he is a liar and he does use God's name in vain.<br />
<br />
.......backtracking in my mind a bit......<br />
<br />
Over the holidays we were at a neighbors house for a get together. Sky called another adult out for using a cuss word...like, <i>damn</i> or something.<br />
<br />
Sky is the cuss word cop. She is violent too...if she had a billy stick it would be bad. The cuss word cop comes from part of her OCD stuff that makes me want to pull my hair out strand by strand with a pair of tweezers some days. She hears a cuss word then thinks bad thoughts, then spends all day to a couple of days confessing that she has been thinking about the foul word EVERY TIME IT CROSSES HER MIND! Her medication ramps up her OCD issues at times and the confessing constantly is tedious. I'll save this rant for another day.<br />
<br />
So when the cuss word cop called out the offending adult. I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed a little because it came across as my child is calling out an adult on their behavior. It appeared disrespectful in the whole of the situation...especially in another persons house.<br />
<br />
But the truth be told... why do adults need to swear in front of children?....or at all?<br />
<br />
A Methodist pastor friend of ours said to me over a <i>couples</i> dinner many years before both couples had children, I may have been pregnant...when haven't I been pregnant....he said, "I always felt like people used cuss words when they couldn't think of a more clever word to use."<br />
<br />
That really stuck with me. I have conveyed that sentiment to my own children. With so many wonderful words to choose from, why use the bad ones?<br />
<br />
...but alas I still use them sometimes. I use them most when I want to put a redneck, big, fat, exclamation point on a thought that conveys I mean business. <br />
<br />
<i>Really? </i>Do I mean business or <i>just sound like a red neck?</i><br />
<br />
Like, one day I was putting on a new shower head. I was up and down the ladder cause the dang thing would not loosen. I had to keep switching tools and getting plumbers tape and this and that & oh yeah what about this tool....up and down, up and down, on and on...every time I came down the ladder Zachary and Maysie were right under my feet, for crying out loud, I was stepping all over them...Why were they UNDER MY STINKING FEET in the shower??<br />
<br />
So.......I am coming down the ladder and I step on Zac's feet......<br />
<br />
A- Will you <b><i>please</i></b> move your <i>ASS??</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
Zac and May are shocked and look at each other but did not move. Zac and I are face to face now in the shower.<br />
<br />
Zac looks at Maysie then at me and says - Now you apologize to Maysie. (insinuating May is his ass)<br />
<br />
We all start laughing and forget about it....except for Sky<br />
<br />
She reminds me at the lunch table that she heard me say a cuss word in the shower and that I could<i> surely have picked a more clever word, and did I ask God to forgive me?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
I had been having an eventful morning. One of those days when things happen that shouldn't. Each thing you fix leads to something else that needs attention immediately and before you know it 4 hours has gotten by and what really needed to be accomplished hasn't happened yet and still needs to happen...only now your eating into the schedule 4 hours which puts you going to bed 4 hours later.<br />
<br />
So Sky called me out and though she was correct, I lost my sanity in front of all my children at the lunch table and said<br />
<br />
A- ASS, ass, ass, ass, ASS, ASS, ass, hell, hell, hell, damn and one more time for good measure, ASS!!<br />
<br />
.......cricket, cricket.........<br />
<br />
Zac busted out laughing.<br />
<br />
May is hands over her mouth <i>speak no evil </i>and Sky is hands over her ears <i>hear no evil.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
Cole wants to know if he can have 3 cookies cause he finished all his lunch.<br />
<br />
I am like, <i>gosh where'd that come from? </i>It was quite therapeutic...for about a minute or so.<br />
<br />
M- Well now, that was quite pleasant. I'm so glad we don't go to public school to learn language like that. I feel smarter already.<br />
...................................................<br />
<br />
So we're back in the bathroom with Sky calling out CB's ability to become a professional liar.<br />
<br />
A- Skylie, Babe, you know you are absolutely correct to say we shouldn't use cuss words or lie or whatever. But when you call people out on their sin in front of others two things happen. First, they get embarrassed and second they want to look for a fault in you to call out, so they can show others you sin too. Not that they want to hurt your feelings, but they are human and don't want to feel displaced. Is the behavior right? No, but drawing a room full of people's attention to another person's sin isn't right either.<br />
<br />
I reminded her of the incident at the neighbors house calling out the adult and that this was not the first instance of that either, that it came across as disrespectful more than trying to keep her mind clean. Which all of us fully understand and outsiders don't.<br />
<br />
I reminded her of the Bible story of the women who had been found with another man, like a boyfriend, while she was married. She was going to be stoned to death for this act. The men brought her to Jesus to see what he would say about it. Jesus wrote some words in the sand. Some say each man with a stone, ready to cast at the woman, viewed the words written by Jesus as his own secret sin...then Jesus stood and said, "Those without sin should cast the first stones." When the girl looked up, there was not one man there waiting to stone her, for they all knew they were sinners, the same as she. Jesus told her to go and sin no more.<br />
<br />
I asked Sky if she was she perfect? Would she be able to cast the first stone? Did she have a secret sin that only she ...and maybe me & Jesus knew about?<br />
<br />
Sky expressed that she was glad the girl was not stoned to death and was able to live. Sky affirmed that she knew she too, was a sinner. She knew she did some things that <i>surely made Jesus unhappy. </i>She understood that she had been casting stones casually and carelessly for her own sake.<br />
<br />
I was so moved by her ability to understand this concept and readily accept this correction. I thought of how good God is to give us these moments with our children to teach in them in the way they should go. To be able to trust Him to know and understand what he has to teach our children through us as parents using the wisdom He gives us in His Book. It takes my breath away, how good and right God is everyday and never failing.<br />
<br />
I made a New Years resolution today to try really hard not to cast a bunch of stones casually and carelessly for the sake of myself. I can't count the times Christ wrote my sins in the sand this past year and I kicked my foot over it so I wouldn't have to read it. <br />
<br />
I'm done with that.<br />
<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-54383119914743678022010-12-29T10:32:00.015-05:002010-12-29T21:20:07.857-05:00Gift giving wisdom?..............<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Responsive reading - </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me- Hello. </span><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me- I am Amy.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Me- I am a recovering blog neglecter.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You - HeeeellllllllO AAAAAAAAAmmyyy</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">......................................................</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are some things I shouldn't talk about. Sometimes though situations end like this "....." instead of </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">like this " <b>.</b> " </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's uncomfortable.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So this is what I shouldn't talk about, but I will so it can have a " <b>.</b> "</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">D posted this on his FB: "C<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">hristmas lesson #1: Never buy your wife something she says she doesn't want. Odds are she will not like it!"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This statement is true. Men should surely heed this Christmas lesson lest they get their feelings hurt a bit... or is it their pride. I guess it depends on the man. You know, whether he is in touch with his feminine side or not.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">feelings = in touch</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">pride = not in touch</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At Christmas, when you ask a woman what she wants for Christmas and she tells you point blank. That is the gift she would appreciate or her heart truly wants. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If she <i>hem haws</i> around and doesn't give you a direct answer... then she gets, what she gets. If she doesn't like her gift because she neglected to tell you a certain thing, it's her fault, not the males.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have learned over the past 5 years </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">particularly, that you must be direct with the male species. One must say exactly what they want or need. No matter how harsh it sounds to the female or other females. It has come to me that males need to have specific directions and spoken out loud. They need the female to say exactly what she wants or needs so they can do it. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">I have learned that hoping that the male will understand what I mean without saying it so as not to be harsh or direct...DOES NOT work. This is not just with my husband, but with my son, my brother, salesmen, men on the phone.... all males in general that I deal with.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">I have learned that <u>generally</u> they do not perceive this as rude. They see it as helpful (or maybe understandable) even if they are annoyed by the action required.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">This Christmas I was asked what I wanted, point blank. I would normally </span><i style="line-height: 14px;">hem haw</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"> around and then get whatever. Usually whatever is fine. But since I am being a tad more money conscious these days, I thought better to get something that would truly be used by me or others and would bring everyday pleasure. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Because even when I say, "Don't get me anything." I still get something.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">So I stated a <a href="http://barninthesticks.com/contents/en-us/p53_Window_Bird_House.html">bird house</a> or the <a href="http://www.toms.com/womens/glitters/pink-women-s-glitters">new pink glitter TOMS</a>. My alpha male, believes these to be <i>not good</i> gift ideas and buys the thing I repeatedly said I did not want.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">When I opened <a href="http://www.shopnbc.com/Invicta_Women_s_Baby_Lupah_Quartz_Mother_of_Pearl_Rubber_Strap_Watch_w_Set_of_Five_Straps/J179813.aspx?storeid=1&cm_re=SearchList-_-N-_-N&prop=Watches|229&prop=Invicta|483&prop=Women's%20Watches|473">the gift</a> that I already knew what it was because he loves this particular gift himself (which is a fine gift for him)...I had an extremely unpleasant battle inside my body to control my emotions and make sure they came out grateful.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">I did not do a good job. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">I failed.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">My face, eyes and lips spoke not gratitude in a very uncomfortable way. I know it was uncomfortable cause my mom chastised me later and D didn't talk to me for almost 2 days even though I apologized several times. I had it coming though so I just gave him some space to work it out. <span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">He loves me again now,</span> <b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">which is always good.</span></i></b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">I would like to blame it on some random hormonal madness, but truly I think it was just me, showing me. I get weary trying hard to be <i>just the right person</i> to all people. I unleashed my emotions on purpose. I didn't hold back the furrowed brow or fake smile or comments that should have been held for a private conversation.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">I didn't spew venom or anything or get mad...I just didn't shoot fireworks out my butt on purpose. I didn't pretend to love the item or even like it....cause my insides didn't want this. I would have rather had <i>the nothing</i> than to have had to go through opening the thing I didn't want at all, faking gratitude, and then sending it back, which I have done already.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">My mind was chain linking thoughts of, "Why ask if you don't want to know what I really want? Why waste money <u><i>just to buy</i> <i>something?</i></u> Why do I have to open it while everyone is looking at me? Don't take my picture."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">Please understand I am not being rude or ugly when I write these words. I am just stating....that sometimes giving the gift is more fun to me than receiving one. Not in a cliche way either...I mean <u style="font-weight: bold;">for real</u>.</span></span></div><div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">I learned this about myself this Christmas. <b>For real</b>, believe these words....</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e; line-height: 14px;"><b>I don't like to receive gifts. It embarrasses me. </b></span></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">It makes me feel uneasy and anxious. The gift turns into a show of emotions that I may not be capable of living up to in truth. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3; line-height: 14px;">I honestly feel like the true gifts people give me are shown to me in their actions...wrapped up in the sincerity of their eyes <b>as it is done in love or wanting to please.</b></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These are gifts that I feel the most thankful for and gratitude is freely and truthfully given. My heart has no boundaries for gifts given to me like this.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On my 40th b-day D gave me peace and quiet to read while he earnestly did the thing I didn't want to do...cook and clean up a delicious meal full of things that I adore. The thought he put into my b-day was a true gift. My sister gave me a day at the spa (which I haven't used yet). I loved this gift too, the reason being, she knows I never do things like this for myself. She gave it to me because she loves personal gift giving. She sent it to me in the mail, so I was able to open it in private. No one was staring at me waiting for my gratitude and fireworks. I was able to express my gratitude in words shared between only her and I. Both of those gifts meant a lot to me.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mom cashed in her credit cards points to this year and got me a $50 <a href="http://www.starbucks.com/menu/drinks/tazo-tea/chai-latte?foodZone=9999">Starbucks</a> gift card out of them. I loved that too. After the present swapping was done and everyone was on their on later that morning, s</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">he gave it to me in private</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. I was grateful. When I hugged her it wasn't for show, I loved her and it was a gift she knew I would use.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #45818e;"><b>Receiving gifts is hard for me</b></span> and I generally do not prefer to receive gifts. </span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I would much rather pick a personal gift and give it randomly out of gratitude than to buy a gift....just to buy one. I hate that. Pondering what to get someone to the point it becomes a chore, sucks. It's not longer a gift of thought & love, but a thing to fulfill the obligation. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In this instance it is better to receive <i><b>the nothing</b></i> and watch the happiness of others......at least, to me anyway. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">I ended up buying myself the </span><a href="http://www.toms.com/womens/glitters/pink-women-s-glitters" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">pink glitter TOMS</a><span class="Apple-style-span"> with Christmas money from my mom. D's mom and dad also gave me money. Later that that afternoon, after receiving the money, my car battery FINALLY put itself (and me) out of its miserable existence by dying permanently. The cost of the new battery was just a little over the amount of Christmas money that D's parents had given to me. I felt I no longer had to worry about spending the money on groceries, sports or extracurricular activities...<i>misusing the money so to speak</i>. I had used it on myself in a really useful way. I felt satisfied.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These words are one of my truths. I don't feel ashamed of them. I hope you will not find fault in me when my face is in your presence. </span></div><div><br /></div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-6624653244961902182010-12-14T09:29:00.003-05:002010-12-22T11:22:45.202-05:00just squeezed as hard as I could..............Looking back a bit...........<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Early one morning after we had just gotten our tree up, before all the lights starting acting like morons....</div><div><br />
</div><div>CB jerks away from the tree as I walk into the living room, he looks guilty.</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- CB, what are you doing over there?</div><div><br />
</div><div>CB- Nothing</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- Are you sure? Cause your eyes tell me another story? I won't get mad just tell me. I promise I won't get on to you if you tell the truth. (we are now face to face- eye to eye)</div><div><br />
</div><div>CB- I broke something. (points to the tree)</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- Well where is it so I can see, cause I don't see anything Cole.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Cole heads off towards his room and I follow him. He gets underneath his train table and brings out a hand full of broken elongated glass Christmas ornament. I rush over...</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- Cole, baby, you can't have broken glass under your train table, give me that. You could have cut your hands. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Cole holds out his other hand which he has in fact cut, something like a long paper cut. I am astounded that he has cut himself and not told me and also that he hid the broken glass under the train table in his room.</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- CB, why did you hide this glass under your table? Why didn't you throw it into the garbage can, or tell me?</div><div><br />
</div><div>CB- I didn't want to get in trouble.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I am now under the train table myself picking up tiny pieces of broken ornament out of his carpet. I head back to the Christmas tree to look for more glass within the tree and on the floor around. I ask him how the ornament got broke, assuming he picked it off the tree and dropped it. um, no....he thought it "<i>fit perfectly</i>" into his baby grip, so he just <i>squeezed it as hard as he could. </i>It busted in his grip.</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- Cole! Gosh Son, that is madness. Look at your hand. Do not do that ever again. </div><div><br />
</div><div>CB- Well....I broke some more stuff too. </div><div><br />
</div><div>....heading back to his room and under the other side of his train table that I had paid no attention to before. I am like <i>Oh Lord, what else God, what else?</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div>Cole drags out a birage of broken crap toys(Happy Meal type toys and the likes) that he has taken apart and not been able to put back together. </div><div><br />
</div><div>He has always taken apart his stuff....and ours too. Like our air purifier...he totally took it apart when he had just turned three, filled it full of hot wheels and then put it back together. When I went to move it one day, I noticed it was heavy as all get out. I could hear stuff moving around inside but it wasn't in the area that you would change the filters, which perplexed me. He had filled a section that I didn't even know existed or even came apart.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I swear when he was little if I would 've given him a fork he'd have pried my baseboards off with it.</div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">A- Wow CB. I can't fix this stuff, just throw it in the garbage.</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">CB- Are you mad Momma?</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">A- No cause I said I wouldn't get upset if you told the truth. Plus, now I get to throw some stuff that I hate to step on in the garbage (which I am happy about secretly). CB stop taking all this stuff apart, do you understand? Next time I find a pile of treasure hidden like this </span><u>I will</u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> be upset. </span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></i></div><div>Later that morning as all the other kids are getting motivated, CB is feeling good about himself telling the truth.</div><div>He starts to spill his honesty all over the breakfast table.</div><div><br />
</div><div>CB - Zachary, I am sorry I broke your Easter Egg. Maysie I am sorry I broke your swirl pen.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Maysie and Zac looking at each other - "What?!"</div><div><br />
</div><div>CB- I broke your stuff but Mom said it's okay today. I threw my pile of treasure in the garbage. I didn't get in trouble for breaking the glass cause I told the truth.</div><div><br />
</div><div>M & Z - What???! MOM!</div><div>............................................................</div><div><br />
</div><div>I am pumping gas at the shell station, the same gas station that my car battery quit working for no apparent reason and the one legged man wanted me to <i>show him some love. </i>They dang have TV's to watch while you pump gas. It's idiotic and yet entertaining at the same time. I mean for real, are we so in need of entertainment 24/7 that one has to watch freaking TV while pumping dang gas.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Television is everywhere. On it's mission to contaminate our minds and destroy what shred of decency our minds have left in some tiny corner. Let the brainwashing saturate us...even whilest thou pumpeth the freaking gas.</div><div><br />
</div><div>sidetracked...sorry.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Dig on this...this white dude hippie with dreds that have food and other unknown pieces of white crap in them, pulls up in his car with his girlfriend, a couple pumps down. He gets out, PUMPS THE GAS, THEN starts asking people around him, including me, if we have a dollar we can spare for him to get gas. I am like, you idiot, NO! No money hippie = no gas. you shouldn't have pumped till you could pay for it. </div><div><br />
</div><div>A- Dude...didn't you<i> already</i><b> </b>pump yer gas??</div><div><br />
</div><div>Hippie -(distant far away look like he may be missing his time spent in rainbow & glitter Never, Never Land) uh, no.</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- Yer lying...</div><div><br />
</div><div>Hippie - (not affected by my calling him out, almost as if he has not heard me at all) - Do you have a dollar I could use to buy some gas.</div><div><br />
</div><div>A- No, all I have is my card. (Which is true, I may have had a quarter and dime stuck in my seats somewhere visiting with the stale, hard french fries) </div><div><br />
</div><div>The hippie continues on to ask some others, that also tell him "No." Hippie is in dilemma now and confers with his girlfriend in secrecy.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I finish pumping and rotting my brain with the gas station television and pull off. I have no idea how they paid for that gas or even <i>if they did pay</i>. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Those kinds of folks agitate my well being intensely in about 100 different ways. While one side argues I should have pity, feel for those in need, and help, help, help, give, give, give, do, do, do.......it's these exact folks that make me feel like this....</div><div><br />
</div><div><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CZt68ZK2tQY?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CZt68ZK2tQY?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />
<br />
I think this is a sure sign I am getting older and less tolerant. The thing is I don't even feel guilty about it anymore either.<br />
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</div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-81424066384384748392010-12-07T09:42:00.002-05:002010-12-07T09:55:35.080-05:00I totally gave her permission to kick me square in the butt ...........Last Monday, not yesterday, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Kacka</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Lacky</span>, TN had our annual Christmas parade. I had agreed to walk with the girls in the parade because the gal who owns the clogging studio where they take lessons needed some adult chaperone's. It was cold, which was to be expected. The clogging studio got a super position in the parade sort of near the front of the line. The girls got lined up...the truck with Christmas clogging music screaming out the back of the truck bed, the "pro-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">cloggers</span>" to clog all the way through the parade, the girls with the banner saying who we were, and then all the girls walking and throwing out candy...in that order.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TP5D7eQFUmI/AAAAAAAACnM/D2xvvAUsntI/s1600/IMG_9084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TP5D7eQFUmI/AAAAAAAACnM/D2xvvAUsntI/s320/IMG_9084.JPG" width="320" /></a>It started to rain just as we were about get the show on the road.<br /><br />.......that and the truck battery with the blaring music was dead.<br /><br />Immediately the gal who owns the studio runs over to me and Ms. P and asks us if we have jumper cables. Which we don't cause she wrecked her vehicle hitting a deer and she had a rental car and I am just generally unprepared and in constant need of supervision when in the presence of any vehicles.<br /><br />It has started to pour down rain now and we have lost our position. Our bags that have all the candy to throw out have gotten wet on the bottom and the bottoms literally start to fall out of the bags, spilling candy all over the streets where we stand in the pouring rain.....it's 40 degrees.<br /><br />I had pathetically persuaded Ms. P into walking in the parade with me so I wouldn't have to walk all by myself not knowing anyone. um, yeah....I totally gave her permission to kick me square in the butt right in front of God and everybody.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TP5EAA_ggVI/AAAAAAAACnQ/Lv57zmCxDsc/s1600/IMG_9086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TP5EAA_ggVI/AAAAAAAACnQ/Lv57zmCxDsc/s320/IMG_9086.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />The truck did get jumped off and despite losing our spot we ended up slap in the middle of the line in the parade. The <a href="http://www.secccloggers.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">SECC</span> </a>pro girls did clog all the way through the parade in the pouring rain. We did get sopping wet beyond all wetness in 40 degree weather. It was insane. In the end, it was a night I would surely remember as a sacrifice for my girls. Not only that, but even in the pouring rain <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kacka</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Lacky</span> town folks STAYED for the parade. I would have totally bailed if we had not been in the parade. But piles of folks lined the streets with their kids waiting to grab as much candy as possible. Our girls had a ball. I can actually say I had a pretty good time too. <br /><br />D had the biggest umbrella known to man with Cole and Z waiting on us to come around. They got three full gallon sized <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ziploc</span> bags of water-logged candy that night. Most of which hit the garbage the next morning for failure to dry in a manner that was eatable.<br /><br />Ms. P's husband should have been in the parade he was waving us on bigger than the wavers in the parade. He was clearly excited and it made me happy to see his excitement. Her two boys, not quite as excited.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TP5ECtLOkCI/AAAAAAAACnU/OsBxSemVM1s/s1600/IMG_9088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TP5ECtLOkCI/AAAAAAAACnU/OsBxSemVM1s/s320/IMG_9088.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />Meg and I agreed if we could get one of our kids to marry the other and have some children... some day...we could gab on about this night when we are older and grayer than we are now....cause it was surely <i><b>epic</b></i>.<br /><br />We had to walk back to our cars at the end of the parade. Most of the mom's and a few teens could have passed for Alice Cooper.<br /><br />It was till pouring down when we decided to just stop walking and call D to come pick us 6 drowned girls up under the shelter of the local car wash. He did.<br /><br />My car smelled like wet vermin for like two days after that. I despise <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Febreeze</span> cause it kills my sinuses, but it works so I used way too much of it.<br /><br />We all got home, took hot baths, and put on warm fuzzy pajamas with slippers. It was an awesome way to end an unthinkable parade situation.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TP5D3zGYapI/AAAAAAAACnI/m7RhPuvt2wQ/s1600/IMG_9089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TP5D3zGYapI/AAAAAAAACnI/m7RhPuvt2wQ/s320/IMG_9089.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />..........................<br />Quotes from parade night:<br /><br />.....the Baptist church handing out cookies and hot chocolate earlier in the night before the parade.<br /><br />D - CB, do you want some hot chocolate?<br /><br />CB- No it's too hot, I don't like it too hot.<br /><br />D- CB, do you want a chocolate chip cookie?<br /><br />CB- No, I don't like chocolate chip cookies?<br /><br />D- Well of course you don't. These are made with goodness and love by kind Christians, you probably want <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><i>devils</i></span> food cake.<br />____________<br /><br />CB in the car on the way home...<br /><br />CB- Yeah and then Zachary pushed me down in the street and my hat got <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">grinched</span>. <i>(drenched)</i><br /><i><br /></i><br /><i>____________</i><br /><i><br /></i><br />This<b><i><u> is not </u></i></b>our city parade, but gosh, it's funny....and worthy of parade catastrophe mention for sure. Listen to the folks distress when Rudolph meets his fate.<br /><br /><object height="283" width="460"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/v_j-0mpap38?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/v_j-0mpap38?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="460" height="283"></embed></object><br /><div><br /></div><i style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); ">"You're tearing Rudolph!!!"</i><span class="Apple-style-span" >....oh man...it's just ...a little funny.</span><div><br />This goes back to my previous blog about why do we do abnormal things at this time of year?<br /><br />....like striding in pouring down rain in 40 degree weather to the equivalent of a Christmas version of Cotton-Eyed Joe....and pulling an extremely over-sized baby deer with a birth defect on an under thought out parade path that tortures town folks and little children into night terrors about it's death by gouging of an over zealous stop light.<br /><br />...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">anyhoo</span>, Happy Tuesday.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-87767458261937573682010-12-05T21:16:00.005-05:002010-12-06T08:04:59.603-05:00um, stupid..........The holidays are always full of stuff aren't they? It's that time of year when you do stuff that isn't yer everyday activity and then get frustrated and wonder why you do these activities at all....like put lights on yer slumbering bushes and stuff.<br /><br />I totally had lights on my house before Thanksgiving to get ahead of the game this season. I didn't cut them on till Thanksgiving though.<br /><br />The kids were playing flashlight hide and seek with neighborhood kids one night. The next day my lights were not working, the wiring was broken slap into two separate strands going from one bush to a Christmas tree shaped evergreen bush thingy. so I blamed it on the kids hiding behind my bushes and told them not to hide there anymore this season. I restrung the lights on the Christmas tree shaped evergreen, it actually looked better than before I thought.<br /><br />Hide and go seek again....the lights aren't working again. I am like, <i>really</i>?? Some kids are gonna lose a body part for this. I get all CSI trying to figure out which child to convict and sentence. Then it dawns on me the second break is in the exact location of the first. An animal has chewed my lights in half. I do apologize to my children for interrogating them and then relay to D my situation.<br /><br />Because he can fix everything, literally... he fixes the lights using some cool gadgets he has gotten at this convention in Florida. He does this immediately so I will leave him alone, so that he can watch football on his new 46" TV that everyone in my family practically worships. It's as if they never had TV. If I hear the words "high def" one more time, my eyes are going to pop out of their sockets.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-Phgn7II/AAAAAAAACmk/wIz5CSAxytY/s1600/IMG_9054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-Phgn7II/AAAAAAAACmk/wIz5CSAxytY/s320/IMG_9054.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-LdYb7QI/AAAAAAAACmg/-arQdh1mSMY/s1600/IMG_9049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-LdYb7QI/AAAAAAAACmg/-arQdh1mSMY/s320/IMG_9049.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br />So my lights are working. Here's a picture of CB with "<i>his boyz</i>" as he fondly called his over lit frozen pals.<br /><br />Then for no apparent reason the lights in the middle of my pre-lit tree that I purchased trying to be "<i>green," </i>went out. May and I replaced about 25 bulbs, on dang quest I tell ya.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPxFtTufkPI/AAAAAAAACnE/2OCVCgHK7Wo/s1600/IMG_9069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPxFtTufkPI/AAAAAAAACnE/2OCVCgHK7Wo/s320/IMG_9069.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />Then D replaced 25 more bulbs and checked his meter thing for fuse issues, nothing, the fuses were good. So I made the executive decision to unstrand the lights on the pre-lit tree and re-string them.<br /><br />um, stupid.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-dznaLJI/AAAAAAAACm0/q770c6E5qNA/s1600/img_9080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-dznaLJI/AAAAAAAACm0/q770c6E5qNA/s320/img_9080.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>The lights were wrapped onto my tree by an uneducated individual in some random pattern that made no sense to God or anyone in this world even remotely close to adequate. It took entirely too long to unstrand those lights and I am 100% convinced they need to offer college level courses on how to unstrand a pre-lit tree. I grew a beard and died twice while taking those lights off.<br /><br />That job <b><i>sucked</i></b> and I have to use that awful word cause that's how awful that job was.<br /><br />The lights were, no lie, stung by the longest strand of lights in the whole universe. Each bulb was almost 9" from the next bulb. I have never seen anything like it before in my life. I was thinking, <i>for some folks trying to promote going freaking green</i>...<i>that's a total waste of product.</i><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-ilhexNI/AAAAAAAACm4/6UAJt7gj0tM/s1600/IMG_9081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-ilhexNI/AAAAAAAACm4/6UAJt7gj0tM/s320/IMG_9081.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-lgp82FI/AAAAAAAACm8/uCcvKDjY84g/s1600/IMG_9083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="154" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-lgp82FI/AAAAAAAACm8/uCcvKDjY84g/s320/IMG_9083.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I had to take off two strands.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-pxQRvqI/AAAAAAAACnA/K8VaHVTbFec/s1600/img_9095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-pxQRvqI/AAAAAAAACnA/K8VaHVTbFec/s320/img_9095.jpg" width="204" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now it looks okay though. I feel satisfied.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-ZVd5GRI/AAAAAAAACmw/yqoUIoSMg5w/s1600/IMG_9061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPw-ZVd5GRI/AAAAAAAACmw/yqoUIoSMg5w/s320/IMG_9061.JPG" width="320" /></a>I went to upload these photos from my camera and found that at some point CB had taken some video of himself talking smack that is <i><b>so crazy, I can't even put it on my blog</b></i>. Not one video of himself talking smack, but 3! ....and this photograph. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-34768804968822046312010-12-01T15:38:00.005-05:002010-12-01T21:37:18.205-05:00going all the way around yer elbow........I am in the bathroom....as usual.<br /><br />I keep smelling what I think is pee. Because I have had a kid in potty training perpetually for 14 years it seems, I have learned to keep Clorox wipes in the bathroom.<br /><br />I am ticked a bit and start looking for a shot of pee that was miss aimed at the toilet by a male in my house. I find it behind the toilet. I severely aggravated clean this mess up. I plan to tell them this better not happen again, but forget.<br /><br />I remember when I smell what smells like pee again a few days later. I am about to grow horns while I am remembering this clean up just a couple days ago as I begin to search again. I find my little piddle present in the same spot. This time I do not forget. I march into the living room where every male in the house is and go on a tanget about...<br /><br />**I am not the janitor in the house.<br /><br />**I am not the one who can't hit the toilet.<br /><br />**I won't clean this up again.<br /><br />**Whoever does this next time will feel my wrath at full strength....including Cole.<br /><br />D & Z adamantly blame Cole. Cole looks afraid, for real. I mean for him to be. Because cleaning up someone's pee cause they are too lazy to hit the target is detestable.<br /><br />I began to go behind each male secretly after they leave the bathroom to catch them. I miss a few chances.<br />Then one night after Cole has left the bathroom I spy another mess. I go off on Cole like no man's business but I give him one more chance...cause he's 4 and he looks innocent in his eyes. I know in my heart he is <i>Little Larry Lies a Lot</i>, but something in his eyes convinces me chewing him up once side and down the other is good enough. I clean this particular mess up again and make him watch so he can do it himself next time. Cause I <u><b>will not</b></u> do this detestable thing ever again.<br /><br />When I wake up the next morning.....it is there again.<br /><br />Jenny! She has been sleeping in my closet at night. I know for sure no one was in that bathroom except me and her all night. SHE DID IT! It has been HER the whole time! So I grab Jenny out of my closet, show her this "piddle" behind my toilet, and ask her if she she did this horrible act. She tucks her tail between her legs, like she is guilty. I put her outside and say ugly doggy words to her let her know I mean business.<br /><br />.....back into the bathroom to clean this up AGAIN!!<br /><br />So D is getting ready for work now and is taking his morning bath like he does every morning. I am spouting off about Jenny this and Jenny that and Clorox wiping and fussing, washing my hands and huffing and puffing till I blow my own house down.<br /><br />D relays to me I owe him, Z and CB an apology. Z hollers down from his upstairs bedroom, at 6:30 in the morning to "Amen" this.<br /><br />I go get Jenny from outdoors. She scurries in with her tail between her legs and hides under my bed.<br /><br />I go back into the bathroom and what do I see? A really small dribblet of what I would normally call pee behind my just scrubbed up toilet area?<br /><br />D from the tub- Do you think the toilet is leaking?<br /><br />I check around and notice some water under the baseboard. CRAP!<br /><br />A- Yes that's it. Water is coming from somewhere. I see some wetness under the baseboards, let me dry this and see what happens.<br /><br />Then I see nothing but dryness, it's perplexing. After much debate and checking we determine roughly it is coming from an elbow behind the toilet INSIDE the flippin wall.<br /><br />Long story growing short quickly.<br /><br />D and I have discussion throughout the day what needs to happen to repair the leak in the wall that evening when he gets home from work. We make a plan. He comes home and we begin to carry it out.<br /><br />D is totally the most thorough man I know. He never overreacts and makes rash decisions. He always has his work plan well formulated on big jobs. They usually have very few glitches and he fixes them, then the whole world is furry bunnies and rainbows.<br /><br />On this plan D left his body and did not come back. He opted to not check the toilet itself well before cutting the wall. I tried to get him back on track, but his mind had been made, he was sure it was in the wall and he cut the wall, despite my urging him in a panic to check the toilet well first.<br /><br />When he got into the wall, through the insulation, the whole area was perfectly dry. The look on his face read, "W<i>hy did I do this? I just screwed up.</i>.."<br /><br />I swear, I can't remember a time when I ever saw that look before.<br /><br />A- You shoulda just paused a second and checked the toilet.....<br /><br />D- Oh man, this sucks, I just created a pile of extra work.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />We both shuffle into the bathroom and he starts going over the toilet. D quickly finds a little nut under the holding tank that needs to be tightened......and all is furry bunnies and rainbows. The toilet is fixed, just like that.<br /><br />That is seriously going all the way around yer elbow just to get to yer butt hole.<br /><br />The wall....just got finished last night.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPax6zKRy7I/AAAAAAAACmc/6Oe-jf1Jnp8/s1600/IMG_9091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TPax6zKRy7I/AAAAAAAACmc/6Oe-jf1Jnp8/s200/IMG_9091.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />I guess I can hand off my title as <i>Susie Hardway</i> now.The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-10116088689303931172010-11-16T10:22:00.008-05:002010-11-17T16:32:09.036-05:00with a stop sign shaped tool................Mondays......<br />
<br />
Last night I totally took the girls to clogging practice. No lie, Ms.P left me hanging for a business venture possibly, so I was own my own with 5 girls for the night. I wondered what the heck I would do with myself at first cause Monday is gab yer head to the point of complete and utter emptiness.<br />
<br />
I thought to myself, "Self....you could finish yer book tonight. Except yer eReader light is out of batteries and it isn't back lit...forget turning on yer car lights and draining the battery again. What to do???" In my mind flashed Z's DS game <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rhythm-Heaven-Nintendo-DS/dp/B001P1ZE68">Rhythm Heaven</a>....I would play his game FINALLY, in peace. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime;"><b>THEN</b></span> I was super excited to be on my own.<br />
<br />
Nothing is ever as it seems though. When <i>Smalls</i> and her trusty side kick <i>Spunky </i>finished their class, the 5 girls headed off the McD's like we always do for some not nourishment. I had to get some gas first though.<br />
<br />
**I got out<br />
<br />
**I pumped the gas to full tank.....without my <a href="http://www.kroger.com/Pages/default.aspx">Kroger card</a> which was deplorable.<br />
<br />
**I got into the car.<br />
<br />
**The flippin car WOULD NOT crank.<br />
<br />
tick, tick, tick. tick, tick ,tick<br />
<br />
Insert the whole jaw dropping syndrome again with all peeps great and small seated in my car.<br />
<br />
A- WHAT??! REALLY??!<br />
<br />
SB, May, Smalls, & Spunky - Oh no! I can't believe this!(etc, etc, etc)<br />
<br />
I get out and this fellow and his wife that were filling the 2 cars they own and every single gas can from here to the TN border with their Kroger gas card at .40 off a gallon.....were in disbelief also. They were pumping when I pulled in. The husband tells me he doesn't have cables and we discuss for not more than 40 seconds how insane this situation is. I am gabbing with him and making the call to D......again, to come and rescue me.<br />
<br />
It's cold and rainy...he isn't feeling my vibe and we are disgruntled with one another cause he is asking me questions I feel are inconsequential and he thinks I am not listening again...<i>and I feel like not listening </i>cause his questions are not helpful. I want him to say, " <i>I am on my way</i>," and he wants me to say "O<i>h never mind, the car cranked false alarm,</i>" or something of that nature.<br />
<br />
While I am trying not to get frustrated with his tone of voice at my situation that is completely not my fault, Gas Can Husband has located an Old Navy Truck Man with jumper cables.<br />
<br />
EXCITEMENT! I try to hang up with D so I can help this fellow make sure <i>both ends do not touch, </i>in the cold flippin rain<i>,</i> and show my gratitude....but D will not quit lamenting to me on the phone. I want him to be quiet and hang up now and he wants to know what's going on.<br />
<br />
I HATE talking on a cell phone, can't stand it....even when not in dire situations. It just bugs the crap out of me.<br />
<br />
D- CALL ME WHEN you get the CAR CRANKED! BYE! (D loves his cell phone, even though at this point he was on our home phone. Both D & my mom...the two of them, would lose all consciousness without their cell phones.)<br />
<br />
Gas Can Husband connects the cables up completely different than Mr. P has told Ms. P and I.<br />
<br />
Gas Can Husband connects the cables up completely different than D has told Ms. P and I.<br />
<br />
Three men connecting cables in three different sequences...all telling me with confidence their way is the right way......and at what point the battery could spew rabid, clothes melting, flesh eating, acid onto your face......<u>all three different.</u><br />
<br />
The six of us females have concurred on this: At birth, males are given the knowledge of how to hook jumper cables up. I don't care what order they do it in, they do it with confidence and authority.<br />
<br />
My car cranks right up.<br />
<br />
Rejoicing!! Not near what it was when Ms. P & I did <a href="http://therareamylesaurus.blogspot.com/2010/11/now-that-were-men.html">the man deed</a>. But it did feel good to be rescued and rather quickly in the cold rain.<br />
<br />
So I walk over to tell Old Navy Truck thank you for letting us use his cables and how grateful I am that he hadn't left the gas station yet. <br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Cause it's the south, he wants a hug. I gladly give him one. I am grateful.<br />
<br />
Gas Can Husband is bringing the cables over and telling Old Navy Truck Man some man words about my car, that I don't care about. Gas Can Husband is happy cause I am happy....plus he's getting .40 a gallon off every piece of equipment he owns that will hold gas.<br />
<br />
I pat his back and tell him "<i>Thank You</i>" and he squeezes my shoulders as in a half hug, cause he's glad to help a car full of gals. Gas Can Wife is happy too, cause her husband is the super hero who saved the day.....plus she's getting .40 a gallon off every piece of equipment he owns that will hold gas.<br />
<br />
Well....Old Navy Truck has been talking to a One Legged Man, who makes BBQ sauce, while we are having Monday night drama at the Shell. One Legged Man, one legs it on over to my car and discovers that my battery cables are loose and this is why my completely fine battery has repeatedly acted incompetent.<br />
<br />
The three men agree that One Leg has discovered the answer to all of the worlds problems. They all shake their heads in a concurring manner....I do this also. It feels like the right thing I am supposed to do.<br />
<br />
One Legged Man tightens the cable best he can till I can get home for D to tightened it properly with a stop sign shaped tool.<br />
<br />
Then he declares the car good for another 100,000 miles.<br />
<br />
One Leg informs me that he saw me give the other two dudes a hug and he wants one too. After all, he is "<i>the one who discovered the loose battery cables.</i>"<br />
<br />
We all cackle a bit, I hug him and he reminds me that the Shell gas station sells his BBQ sauce inside and for me to go and buy some. The three males shake hands. They are heroes who have saved 5 females and they have been hugged properly for it......plus Gas Can Husband has gotten .40 a gallon off every piece of equipment he owns that will hold gas.<br />
<br />
After that, food was gotten at the drive thru.... Smalls & Spunky played in my car <b><i><u>with it running,</u></i></b> while I played Rhythm Heaven on Z's DS....and SB & May made it to their class on time.<br />
<br />
Furry Bunnies and Rainbows........</div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-26561157567100539872010-11-12T23:14:00.001-05:002010-11-12T23:19:08.294-05:00crickets marinated in camel spit on a stick or something...........<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One afternoon while I was having problems with the perpetual hemorrhoid(that I am now over thank you) I had decided to take a bath. I had found my jar of <a href="http://www.littlemoonessentials.com/bathing/bath-salts/tired-old-ass-soak.html">TOA(Tired Old Donkey) </a>hiding in my cabinet. TOA is mostly epsom salt. This excited me more than it should have. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I poured almost the whole jar into the tub and put the water on entirely too hot. I know the water was too hot because the parts of my skin that were submerged in the tub water were a sun burned red color. The parts of my skin that were outside of the water were a tannish brown.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Relaxing……….relaxing………………….relaxing…………………<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><b>!!!!!!!BUST THE DOOR OPEN!!!!!!</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">S- (with her <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Diary-Wimpy-Kid-Yourself-Book/dp/0810979772">Diary of a Wimpy Kid book</a>) HEY MOM! Will you help me fill this book out please?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A- No<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">S- Mom, please…<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A- No I am soaking my butt. Lock the door please.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">!!!!!!!!!!BUST THE DOOR OPEN!!!!!!!!!!</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />CB- Mom can I get in?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A- No CB! I am burning my skin off…on purpose. Look at my legs. You see how red they are? You don’t want to burn your legs off do you???<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">CB- Mom…you can just put some cold water in, then I can get in with you. Besides I already heard you tell Sky you were soaking your butt off not your legs. <i>(I wish it were really that easy to rid myself of excess buttocks.)<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cole is rolling his Hot Wheels up and down the side of the tub making this horrible, unpleasant, not relaxing noise.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">S- <i>So. What is the worst thing I ever ate?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At Easter, instead of an <i>Easter Egg Hunt </i>I do a scavenger hunt. Sort of a like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Amazing_Race_(U.S._TV_series)">The Amazing Race on TV</a> with “Detours” (where the 4 siblings have to complete a challenge together before they can get the next clue) and “Road Blocks” (where they select one of the 4 siblings to complete a challenging task before they can receive the next clue).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will try to blog on this stuff later…. if I can remember.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What is The Amazing Race without an <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #7f6000;"><b>eat something yucky</b></span></i> food challenge? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before Sky was really old enough to do the hunt fully, Zac had to eat 2 pieces of Kibbles and Bits dog food. I can feel you thinking, <i>why would a parent ask their child to do this awful deed</i>…..but hey, they don’t go to school where kids can subject them to this kind of atmosphere. Somebody <u>has</u> to complete the daunting task of making them "normal.".....after all, this goes under the category of "<i>it tastes like chicken</i>," right? </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I mean for real, once this kid told me tree bark <i>tasted like chicken</i>. So I took a rock and scraped some tree bark off of an idiot tree and ate the flippin stuff. I really believed the dang tree tasted like freaking chicken. I liked it so much sometimes I still eat it.......fried......<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">just kiddin</span>.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...side tracked, sorry.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sky is an eating machine. She loves all food… meat, veggies, tuna, sushi…if I eat it, she will too. She adores eating all creatures great and small from the sea, unlike me in this way<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(cause you know I like to eat tree bark....just kiddin, sidetracked, sorry)</span>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two years ago the food challenge was eating a ¼ of a peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(I actually like to eat this sandwich about once a year.)</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">May and Zac totally bugged out of the challenge and refused to eat the sandwich. I mean it was ¼ for petes sake. It wasn’t even like I asked them to eat crickets marinated in camel spit on a stick or something<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(or tree bark)</span>. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.....so they zoned in on “Mikey.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sky said she would not eat it either. I told them that the game was finished then. They would not get the next clue until the challenge was completed. Now…most parents would have given in and gave them the next clue, but I swear I’m just hard that way. This way when I need them to know I will stick to my word, good or bad…they know it’s true.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The beauty of this too is... they all want their perspective prizes. The clues have been set. They can’t get to one without the other. So it was over……no prizes. Life is like that you know. You don’t <u>always</u> get what you want without some sacrifice. People don’t cave in and give you what you want without getting something in return <i>all the dang time.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Somebody had to eat ¼ of the peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sky did it. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maysie and Zac worshipped her for a full day. Whatever she wanted that day, they gave her…..because they were grateful that they didn’t have to eat the sandwich.<o:p></o:p></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">..........Back to the bathroom taking my bath……<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">S- <i>So. What is the worst thing I ever ate?<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A- Well, let’s see...........Think back to Easter a couple years ago….what did I make you eat that was really gross?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then she says….<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">S- <b><i>I don’t know, Mom.</i></b><i><b> </b> You’ve cooked lots of gross food before.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A- Sky, get out of this bathroom with that retarded book <u>right now</u>.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">CB- Mom? <i>When yer done soaking your butt off </i>will you play UNO with me?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is there really no rest for the weary....<i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">ever</span></b></i><b><i>?</i></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-32410596605393527622010-11-08T05:00:00.002-05:002010-11-08T05:00:09.368-05:00Somebody's duck is out of line here...but it isn't mine......<div class="MsoNormal">I was on this rant about how kids appear to be generally ungrateful these days …not my kids of course……..or yours……you know other people’s kids are generally ungrateful is what I was saying.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I was discussing a particular situation to a friend of mine who happens to run another Awana program in Knoxville with her husband. This woman completely encouraged me. She and her Awana youth group are planning to go to some Awana shindig in <a href="http://www.24-7ministries.org/summit.htm">St. Charles, Illinois</a>.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">She was telling me that the youth literally have to do x, y, z amount of community service in the name of the Lord or work for the church in some way to go on the trip and/or obtain church funding for the trip if they do not have the funds to go. In other words, the church does not just hand them over the cash to go, even if they can’t afford to go. The kids who want to go actually have to show initiative and <i>do something </i>for it.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This year, in order for the 13 youth who want to attend this event, to go to the shindig... they participated in the “Duck-out-of-line” at the <a href="http://www.dkdkgoose.com/knoxville/main.html">Duck, Duck Goose consignment</a> event in Knoxville.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This event is a huge consignment sale in an old K-Mart building. It is a 4 or 5 day event (including a private shopping day for consignors) that supposedly rocks all consignment sales to the very foundation of the earth in these parts of town. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am told during this conversation that the line goes all the way around the building and then some to get inside….then to pay is another line all the way around the other side of the building.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A “<a href="http://www.dkdkgoose.com/knoxville/whats_new.html#Duck-out-of-Line">Duck-out-of-line</a>” is a person who gets paid $10 to stand in line for you and hold your spot while you shop. So that when your shopping has been completed, you can get in line where your “duck” is. If your duck is already past the paying counter, then guess what? NO WAITING at all! You get immediate ups and no waiting in line at all!!! All of the money earned by the people who volunteer for this (churches and local charities) get 100% of the money!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The ladies that I am conversating with tell me the <i>D</i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">uck out of line</i> is well worth the $10, as a wait in line to pay for merchandise can be up to an hour or more.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I decided to go and check out this consignment sale for myself after our co-op classes and as sure as a dog sniffs another dogs butt – the line to get in the place was as long a line as I had ever seen. The <i>D</i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ucks out of line</i> were busy with their clip boards signing people up. I swear if I had been determined to go into the place I would have paid someone $20 to stand in line for me. Instead I opted to go to Old Navy and by M & Z new coats. I just tried to let go of my unearth friendly guilt for not recycling....<i>it didn't take too long</i>. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am just gonna say… Maysie's unearth friendly coat.... it’s tha dang the bomb. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, Ms. Awana Co-Commander ….. yeah, she took her 13 Awana youth teens down there to be <i>D</i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ucks out of line</i>.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On the Wednesday preview sale for the people who are consigning clothes and other special designated folks….the teens made $1300…….towards their trips to the Awana event. That’s $100 bucks a piece minimum for each kid towards their trip for one day of service.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I thought that was SUPER COOL!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The following week I see Ms. Awana Co-Commander and asked her what her finally tally was for the kids towards their trips…….<i>Did they meet their goals?</i><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Uummm YES! Those teens made $4000 dollars towards their trip in 3 days’ worth of work!!!!!!! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So they stood in line for folks repeatedly at a consignment sale at $10 bucks a pop and worked off the entire cost of their trip. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This says a minimum of 6 things to me:<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">**These teens are motivated to go on a Jesus trip that is important to them.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">**These teens take pride in seeing their goals completed.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">**These teens are being rewarded for diligence.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">**These teens parents don’t have to come up with $300 randomly when the economy is not optimal….AND during the holidays<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">**These teens parents must be proud of their child for doing something not fun like standing in line for three days to help pay for their trips and possibly the trips of those who could not afford to pay for the trip themselves.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">**This Awana Leader did something right and good here.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am just going to say, I love it when a child is able to stand back and look at good work completed and be amazed that they were a part of something bigger than THEMSELVES. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As an adult I enjoy this feeling myself when I accomplish a big task. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Being a child or a teenager would only magnify this good feeling of accomplishment because the world is so big and so much has yet to still be discovered.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It is my personal opinion that enabling a child to appreciate his/her situation more by digging in deep and hard sometimes……..is good for their self-esteem, not bad.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I am over handing out stuff to kids for free because they expect it. This is the type of adult we are breeding, a society where they believe themselves to deserve to be given stuff that isn't theirs to take. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sometimes it feels to me... youth, generally speaking, know nothing about how to be humble. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">However, I am proud of at least 13 who do.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">HAVE AN OUTSTANDING TRIP AWANA TEENS!<o:p></o:p></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">YOU’VE EARNED IT!!!!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-18724422193200922022010-11-04T05:00:00.006-04:002010-11-04T13:06:07.007-04:00to tuck or not to tuck, the epic ending. Praise God..........<div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TNBcutNW2QI/AAAAAAAACl8/h0TlrJkS9jw/s1600/IMG_8845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TNBcutNW2QI/AAAAAAAACl8/h0TlrJkS9jw/s400/IMG_8845.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The soccer season is almost over. One more game and the fall school start up chaos is completed….mostly.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">We finally got CB playing soccer <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">with his shirt tucked in</i>. It would seem that with me as his safe haven for hiding from his fear of kids running together in a cluster and being overwhelmed….it was too easy to quit, show his butt, and sit on the sidelines. No matter that he has ran with other kids in a cluster in our backyard a billion times. It wasn’t the same. D and I came to the conclusion for him to play I would need to be perceived as not being at the field. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TNBc67HIloI/AAAAAAAACmI/cGK14AKOHQA/s1600/img_8818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TNBc67HIloI/AAAAAAAACmI/cGK14AKOHQA/s320/img_8818.jpg" width="225" /></a>These are the steps to getting a 4 ¾ year old child to play a sport that you paid money for and don’t want him to quit (When you have accidentally volunteered his dad to be the coach).<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">1. When the child sasses you about how he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">doesn’t want to play soccer anyway</i>….yank his cleats off, his shin guards, and his jersey then throw them as far as you can into the yard. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">2. Eat <a href="http://www.lindtusa.com/category-exec/category_id/18/nm/Lindor_Truffles">Lindor chocolate balls</a> 3 at a time, until the bad mommy feelings inside you go far, far away.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TNBcyKVxbJI/AAAAAAAACmA/E5SXynV37hY/s1600/img_8738.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TNBcyKVxbJI/AAAAAAAACmA/E5SXynV37hY/s200/img_8738.jpg" width="148" /></a>3. Make a deal with the child about tucking his shirt in that will surely be broken.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">4. Send him to the soccer field with his dad and tell him you are not able to come to his game. Plan to show up and hide behind a tree to watch him play.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TNBc3Ks_rkI/AAAAAAAACmE/yIL_EJT9nV0/s1600/img_8754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TNBc3Ks_rkI/AAAAAAAACmE/yIL_EJT9nV0/s200/img_8754.jpg" width="150" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">5. In the last quarter, after you have watched him have a great time, score a goal, smile really big all <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">with his idiot shirt tucked in</i>…. reveal yourself as being there the whole time. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is when your child <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">will reveal to you</i> that he saw you drive up and get out of the car. That he saw you hiding behind all of the trees. He will want to know why you didn’t just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sit in a chair like all of the other moms and dads.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is when you will need to eat some more Lindor chocolate balls 3 at a time, until the bad mommy feelings inside you go far, far away. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-57207279721541305192010-11-02T07:46:00.011-04:002010-11-16T10:47:30.559-05:00Now that we're men......Last night, in my eyes, I did this totally amazing thing along side Ms. P.<br /><br />At the clogging studio we were in deep girl, God, and geek gab ....not necessarily in that order. When I say deep, it was almost an hour past the time we were supposed to have left the studio to head home. The class had ended around 9:00pm and our girls were still gabbing, so we continued to gab.<br /><br />Hear this! Because we were totally gabbing incessantly for two hours barely stopping for breath.....in my car.....with the interior lights on the whole time.......at 10:00pm... my interior lights suddenly went dim.<br /><br />I say to myself, "Self....I bet your battery is getting weak." I crank my car up, uumm, no I don't cause it won't crank.<br /><br />tick, tick, tick, tick. tick,<br /><br />try again<br /><br />tick, tick, tick, tick<br /><br />My jaw drops, Ms. P's jaw drops, our teen girls in the other vehicle show us that our jaw dropping syndrome has contaminated them also.<br /><br />A- D is going to kill me....he is packing for a trip to Orlando in the morning.<br /><br />Ms. P - I think I have jumper cables<br /><br />A- (furry bunnies and rainbows....in terror. Cause somebody had to hook them thangs up)<br /><br />Ms. P can't find them, she calls her husband, they discuss at length how to hook the cables up while I read the directions on the packaging.<br /><br />Ms. P's husband is at home in one direction far from the studio and D is at home far away in the opposite direction from the studio, and we are out too late anyway....it just wasn't optimal.<br /><br />Ms. P relays that Mr. P has said we should hook up red, black, black, red (or vice versa or something). We shouldn't let them touch... insert some more directions and technical stuff that I am starting to tune out because I'm afraid to hook the jab-O's up. All my life I have heard that some somebody's car blew up, somebody got venom spewed in their face and their face burned off, acid melted their clothes off and onto their skin and falalala la lala la la.<br /><div><br /></div><div>When I come to my senses Ms. P is standing in front of me with a red and a black in her hands and I with a red and black in my hands and we aren't letting them touch.....staring at each other.<br /><br />The thing is we haven't even moved our vehicles yet and our vehicles are turned off.<br /><br />A- Can you do this?<br /><br />Ms. P - I think so...<br /><br />Frick and Frack...the two willies decide first we should move the vehicles into proper position. After all the cables were touching each other in the bag right?<br /><br />Move the vehicles. We are on the right track. We've done step one according to her package instructions. The vehicles are nose to nose without touching each other....<br /><br />It is clear we are both leery of hooking the exploding battery acid face eating machine cables up. I feel extreme anxiety rising within as she and I are looking for exact locations at which to position these 4 pincher's.<br /><br />I make the decision to call D<i> finally</i>.<br /><br />A- (sweet) Helllllooo.<br /><br />D- Where are you?<br /><br />A- At the studio, my battery is dead.<br /><br />D- Does Meg have cables?<br /><br />A- funny thing.....yes, but Babe, I am afraid to hook them up and so is she, can you just come here and do it?<br /><br />D- Really, Amy? I mean you can do this. Just put the positive on the positive and the negatasdkl lksjdji kjshdjhiuh nasjdhk <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">and</span></b> jhh yuy xernhg uyg.....<br /><br />I don't hear him anymore he's speaking Japanese to me cause I am afraid.<br /><br />So I put him on speaker phone for directions as I am using the cell phone for a flash light. Ms. P doesn't have a cell phone so this is it.<br /><br />It is clear to him I am not listening well and about to panic which equals buggin out. D determines that I am going to do this. He determines he is not driving across the Untied States at 10pm...when I am "this close" the fix myself.<br /><br />D- (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">on speaker phone....and BTW Ms. P is a deacons wife...not that it should matter it's just an ironic situation, that caused me to snicker a little in the after thoughts when I got home.) </span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Put the </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >"</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" >not the dam that beavers build</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" >"</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" > red cable on the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" > </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >"<i>not the dam that beavers build</i>"</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" > positive bolt, Amy, Now!</span></span><br /><br />A & Ms. P(we laugh a little) - Easy Tiger, yer on speaker phone.<br /><br />D - I don't care hook up the red cable and then do the black one, now, DO IT.<br /><br />I totally hooked'em up. I was half way there. Ms. P is standing close beside with her 2 cables <i><u>not touching</u></i>. Like surgeons with special tools I take one from her hand and D tells me where to hook it on my car. Then the last one is placed on the black negative on my battery. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>Not the optimal place I learned cause that is the crisis point at which a battery could explode with my face next to it.</i> When I read the directions though it said not to hook it next to this fuel line and that cable and x,y,z...so I was afraid again cause I have a Hyundai and I don't know which line is which. I recognized the windshield washer fluid and so did Ms. P <i>and all that was plastic</i>. One is supposed to connect the last black one to a metal bolt or something. I was supposed to look away, but I forgot....cause I was having an anxiety attack in my mind.<br /><br />So the moment of truth has arrived. The connections have been made. D relays Ms. P should start her vehicle and slowly rev the engine.<br /><br />A- Okay go start your car and give it some gas.<br /><br />D- No.. I said slowly give it some gas (Ms. P is revving up to start a Nascar race). Tell her to stop that.<br /><br />I don't listen and go get in my car and crank it right up.<br /><br />......insert redneck hooting and hollering in downtown, at night, behind some random building, with no lights on and 6 girls jumping up and down totally being girls.<br /><br />D- Come home. ... and be careful, the deer are out tonight.<br /><br />Insert some more jumping up and down and girly screaming cause BY GOLLY!! WE ARE WOMEN HEAR US ROAR FOR PETES SAKE!!!!!!<br /><br />I know D helped talk us through that and he used some man words to do it......but I swear in my mind I felt like we did it all by ourselves. I mean really, we were nervous, but we seriously overcame it and just totally did the freaking man deed.<br /><br />Ms. P calls her husband and relays to him we have done the deed. He asks her if<i> we unhooked the cables</i>. I told her you should have told him, "No, that's their leash, the whole clan need to be on a leash."<br /><br />Even Ms. P's daughter and May told us they were proud of us. We had a big, 6 female, jumpy, girly group hug put our hands in the center and "Go Ladies" on three...1, 2, 3...GO LADIES!<br /><br />I smiled myself to sleep last night cause I rocked my own world for a change.<br /><br />I love hanging out on Monday's with Ms. P. It makes me feel strong and mighty in every way.<br /><br />I dedicate this song to you Ms. P. We "passed the test and finished the quest!"<br />Hope you have an awesome Tuesday!!!!!<br /><br /><object height="193" width="225"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MGn6COvYeGg?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MGn6COvYeGg?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="225" height="193"></embed></object></div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-16068644928181241802010-10-20T09:50:00.007-04:002010-10-20T10:10:03.756-04:00If Tim & Joe are at the mall, how old is Betty?.............Oh gosh yesterday I had a day where my mind would not work. Like I was helping May with her Algebra and suddenly I just couldn't do it.<br />
<br />
So I looked at the answer and tried to work the thing backwards. I could not do it. The problem was by far not the hardest problem we have ever done. It was an age problem that should have been fairly easy once we plugged the numbers in the right spots.<br />
<br />
COULD NOT DO IT<br />
<br />
I am like why can't I get this freakin answer right?? May was completely frustrated with me, then Zac interrupted with another easy question from his math. By this time my brain was completely and utterly fried and I couldn't even do Zac's math. It was like he was speaking French to me or something and I just couldn't hear him right or understand what he was asking me. Zac got frustrated with me.<br />
<br />
I'm all, "LOOK!! I can only do one math problem at a time and right now I can't even do one. EVERYBODY go to your rooms and do a different subject while I figure this idiot problem out before I just die twice and grow a dang beard or something!"<br />
<br />
That's what they did. I sat at the kitchen table well past lunch trying to figure out what the heck I was missing. It just was not that complicated of a problem. I called D at work to just get him to do it, didn't answer his phone. So I called my girlfriend Ms. SWAT so she could just give me the answer, she didn't answer. However, her 16 or 17 year old kid that has already graduated from high school and is now in college answered the phone.<br />
<br />
A- Look, I need you to give me the answer to this math problem. Can you do this for me without judging me.<br />
<br />
.... cricket, cricket.....no answer on the other end<br />
<br />
A- Does this mean yer going to judge me?<br />
<br />
Ms. SWAT's son - I don't know yet.<br />
<br />
So I give him the problem he comes up with the same answer May and I have gotten. I felt validated. Then he takes a pause while I read it to him again and he spouts off the answer with no problem.<br />
<div><br />
I get him to explain it to me like I am a kindergärtner. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Everything in my universe suddenly lines up properly....furry bunnies start hopping across the bedroom floor and rainbows color themselves across my ceiling...pink hearts & glittering stars rain down around me while all the angels in heaven sing.<br />
<br />
I end our conversation with gratitude and adoring love that he absolutely would not take from me in person.</div><div><br />
I put aside my parental shame and general lameness at not being able to do the idiot math problem. Since my mind has clicked back on "Go" mode, I quickly call Zac down to explain his math problem to him. His universe lines up properly & he celebrates by declaring he is done for the day and popping a bag of Doritos open.<br />
<br />
We are all pretty delirious. My house looks like a bomb went off in it.<br />
<br />
Mays says to Zac - Who thinks these math problems up anyway?? I mean they are like:<br />
<ul><li>If Tim & Joe are at the mall, how old is Betty?.........45</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>The lake is 400 square miles. Four Tuesday's ago they drained it, next year it will be 6 times the size it is today? How many trees are in the forest?..........3</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>Two years ago Betty planted a tree but before she finished planting the tree, she buried her train set underneath it. When she digs the train up in 40 years how fast will the wheels move?.........35mph</li>
</ul><div><br />
</div><ul><li>If the cookie jar holds 37 cookies and Jack is 37 years old, how much lemonade did his mother make?</li>
</ul><br />
<br />
Z- NETFLIX! It's free!<br />
<br />
.......we all start laughing, we are truly done with school for the day.<br />
<br />
...............................................<br />
<br />
I was fixing May a microwavable noodle dish of some sort for lunch last week.<br />
<br />
Obviously the meal is hot when it comes out of the microwave.<br />
<br />
I put it on the counter top "to sit for 2 minutes."<br />
<br />
I peeled back the clear packaging to let it vent a bit and stir it a little.<br />
<br />
One cheesy noodle came out and landed half on the counter top and half on the meal container.<br />
<br />
I thought I would flip the hot noodle back into the dish. The blasted noodle stuck to my finger and was burning my fingertips off. So I slung in a panic downward motion to get it off.<br />
<br />
The flippin scalding cheese defied my panic and went in the upward position onto MY FACE....... AND BURNED MY FACE! Can you believe that?<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TL7ya27zsbI/AAAAAAAACl4/L4XJOeoOekg/s1600/img_8859+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TL7ya27zsbI/AAAAAAAACl4/L4XJOeoOekg/s320/img_8859+(2).jpg" width="209" /></a><br />
Dig on this now, one little dot of cheese hit the one mole or beauty mark, which I prefer, under my nose....... AND BURNED A HOLE IN MY "BEAUTY MARK!"<br />
<br />
If you have ever scratched a mole or done something that causes a mole harm, you know they bleed horrible and take forever to heal. It looks like a big zit under my nose.<br />
<br />
I didn't get the mole on this pic but who cares.<br />
<br />
I mean for real....I do have the flippin "<a href="http://www.wimpykid.com/">cheese touch</a>."</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>*</div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3474388895870703322.post-65946488342797900802010-10-19T09:13:00.001-04:002010-10-19T09:17:16.646-04:00Do you want some of my whoop, whoop?.......D got a facebook. He is addicted to it, though he claims he is not. He was conflicted about what exactly it meant to add "friends" to your list. We had this long overdrawn out discussion about "friends." Then like, one of his first status updates was some business about about how I said his "<i>friends</i>" weren't his "<i>real friends</i>" and <i>can he get a "whoop, whoop" if you are his friend</i> and fa lala lala la la la la.<br /><br />I am like, slow yer roll dude, that is not what I said at all. But as is common practice I gave him a mulligan and let him have his FB fun. Cause you know how it is when you first get on FB...it's a time eating machine that you think about incessantly.<br /><br />Well of course all of his friends are going to "whoop, whoop" him, for crying out loud. No amount of explaining I do is going to take back that inaccurate status update.<br /><br />So all day long his phone is dinging to show someone else has given him a whoop, whoop. He appended a certain high pitched voice to the <i>whoop whoop</i> as the day progressed. By the end of this particular day D has a <i>whoop whoop</i> dance to go with it.<br /><br />He is feeling very FB encouraged and asks me if I would like to have some of his <i>whoop whoop</i>.<br /><br />I am like, "I don't know man, if it's anything like yer <i><b>couscous</b></i> I need to think about it."<br /><br />....he is still getting <i>whoop whoops</i> and he still does the dance, even after nearly two weeks.<br /><br />.........................................................<br /><br /><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">A- Cole what would like for dinner?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">CB- uuuuummm......I think I would like to have some chips with some tater tots. (he's serious)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">A- uuuuummmm.....Let me see......hoooooww about, no. Try again.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">..............................................................................</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">We had this awful bout with chiggers a couple weeks ago. They were awful. Zac, May, and I all had bites all over our legs. They were rampant at the soccer fields apparently and lots of folks I had spoken with had bites on their legs also. I was Google-ing endlessly one day to find a source of termination for the incessant itching on our legs......f<i>ingernail polish worked great for us</i>.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">A link for <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/">Urban Dictionary</a> came up. It read something to the effect of</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"></span></span></div><h3 class="r" style="display: inline; font-size: medium; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><em style="font-style: normal; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chiggers - Chegroes - </span></span></em></h3><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px;">Politically-correct name for biting insects; ie chiggers.</span><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;">This caused me to snicker a little, but not too much cause I didn't want to get <i>honkey guilt</i>.....</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">Warning:</span> <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/">Urban dictionary</a> can be mind contaminate, but some of the new phrases and meanings, are pretty witty.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;">........................................................................</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">I took Cole to the <a href="http://www.kroger.com/Pages/default.aspx">Kroger Deli</a> so as not to feed his addiction to the sight of <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f1c232;"><b>Golden Arches</b></span></i>.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">I swear if you take a child to McD's one time it is a permanent life addiction until they reach 40.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TL2VenBrKWI/AAAAAAAACl0/2PlpsOpgkLs/s1600/McDonalds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="264" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_7tuZzNDH0LE/TL2VenBrKWI/AAAAAAAACl0/2PlpsOpgkLs/s320/McDonalds.jpg" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">When it suddenly catches up with them and then they have to take a probiotic and some <a href="http://www.drnatura.com/">Colonix</a> to regain some sense well being and decontamination.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">Anyhoo....</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">CB- I don't want to eat at the Deli</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A- I don't care CB. There is no way I am going in McD's today, the smell makes me gag.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">CB - You can just hold yer nose Momma, that's what I do when it stinks.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A- No, CB ...you'll like this stuff I promise. Little, tiny chicken legs and green beans, it'll be good trust me.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">CB does love the 5 little chicken legs he has picked out and the beans. He is smacking his lips in the back seat on the way home.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">CB- mmm......mmmmmmm.......mmm...Mom I love these chickens. I am gonna save these two for Skylar and Zac.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A- Sky can't eat those Babe, go ahead and eat them. I will buy Zac some legs later okay?</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">CB- Mom what's this stuff say on the top? (he's holding the lid up pointing to the ingredients list)</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">A- That's the ingredients. It tells what they make the chicken flavoring from.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;">CB - Well.......I love these ingredients.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;">...........................................................................</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span></div>The Rare Amylesaurushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18099879511518720761noreply@blogger.com0