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Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Breaking Taboo

Well now I know that title has got to have y'all like, "Oh My! What could this be about?" I guarantee you it's probably not what you're thinking.

So it all began for me this last Sunday evening. The watch had actually been on over a week before that. I was almost convinced I was hyper vigilant bordering on paranoid. Three reports from three different sources had actually started to wear on me. What could I be referring to?


I feel so much better just saying it. Why in the world is that such a hard thing to discuss? I mean chances are if you have kids you may have this scare and the actual dealing with it, too. I just occurred to me that the talking about it is perceived more wrong than talking sex. Tell you me didn't start to get major jumpy and itchy just reading the word. The effects are even worse if you say it out loud.

I think we got lucky and my girls only had a light case of it. I mean, I knew what I was looking for and I had to look hard to find it. It's definitely better to find it early. It makes the getting rid of them a lot easier. Sadly, I couldn't save the kids from all the trauma of full on cleaning and tossing out of things. That all going on in the midst of getting Hubs on the phone to tell him and light a fire under him to get home since I had no money. Getting the girls to help strip al our beds and put all our pillows (which actually were due for replacing anyway) in trash bags. Making the harder decision to throw away the pillow pets which I felt couldn't be properly washed or dried, better safe than sorry. The girls were very upset but seemed to understand. When Sean found out he took it even worse. I hated being the cause of it but knew it was just stuff. Just stuff that could be replaced. That didn't make it easier to throw away things they were attached to.  Hubs doesn't even wanna replace the pillow pets. I don't think he gets it. I told them I'd replace them and I will.

In the midst of all that were several phone calls between hubs and me. One to my sister to tell her since we were at my parents place for Thanksgiving. I didn't want to make that call to her but it's way better to give the heads up than to let her girls get lice and wonder where from. They may not get it. I hope not, her oldest little girl that is B's age has super long hair. Her littlest girl has lots of cute curly ringlets. If you can believe it, at the same time I was having a conversation with BIL about where to go and what to get. It seems that after one of Hubs calls he called Nana/Pop and asked them if they could ask Rob to go to the store. You'd think I could've asked him but with BIL you just never know what reaction you are going to get. Having Nana/Pop call BIL and ask makes it more official and less likely that he'd refuse. Complicated, I know. I give him bonus points for being helpful. So he didn't decide on his own to go to the store. Fact is he did go. He also helped hand Bridge a bottle of soap she couldn't reach. I couldn't help her as I already had my hands in Meg's hair making sure not to miss one strand w/the lice shampoo.

Over 3 hours it took. 3 hours is counting from the actual washing stage. I have no idea how long we spent stripping beds and throwing washable stuffed animals in a trash bag and non washable ones in another thrash bag. Forget the mess that met Hubs in the hall and Nana/Pop when they got home. Someone thought to put it all in baskets and stick em in the garage.

Having Meg have to get back in the tub to wash her hair with plain shampoo w/o conditioner. Getting B in the shower and repeating several times to wash her hair with plain shampoo only, no shampoo plus conditioner or any conditioner. The pain staking washing of the girls hair. The smell. The even longer more painful checking and combing of every little strand of hair on their heads. Ever so thankful for the tons of hair clips the girls have. Made sectioning off of the hair much easier. I do wish they had chosen a different video to watch. One can only watch Care Bears so many times. It was short cartoons and not the actual full length movies. Meg was first to sit and she was the hardest actually. She behaved well. It's just that her hair is cut in a bob style making it harder to section off and comb through. Bridge was a bit more restless but then it took over 2 hours to comb through her just below shoulder length hair. Didn't find but a few nits amongst either of them. But of course, the painstaking thoroughness is absolutely necessary.

By then Hubs had made it home. He stopped at the Wal Mart to pick up new pillows, more lice shampoo just in case I had it, and lice spray. That's when the sorting of the mess in the hall began. Hubs and Nana/Pop practically made it home at the same time. That definitely helped to speed up the sorting and taking care of getting kids beds taken care of. Once they were all settled, Nana started the process of checking my hair. My nice long, thick hair. Thankfully, she didn't find anything.

I spent all of yesterday washing every single scrap of bedding we use. Sheets and pillow cases put through the sanitary cycle on the washer and two dryer cycles. Blankets and comforters that could stand it went through hot was cycle and 2 dryer cycles. Everything else, 2 warm was cycles and 2 dryer cycles. I set the dryer each time for the max length of time it can be set. Overkill? Who knows. I tend to lean towards better safe than sorry. Once all the bedding was done it was time for the coats. Chances probably aren't high anything was on em, but they were due for washing and again, better safe than sorry.

I may have been lonely at times over the long weekend being the only one home with the girls but now I am super glad they weren't all here. Nana/Pop was left Wed evening to go out of town to visit family. BIL spends more time w/his girlfriend than here. Lucky for me he was here to lend a hand on Sunday. Hubs left Friday night with Sean for a one day coin show. He decided late Saturday afternoon to meet up with Nana/Pop. I don't think any of us are really out of the clear just yet but our odds are pretty good.

That brings me back to the taboo of it all. I think lice is a damn nuisance but it's not like leprosy. Though if you get it/have to deal with it you feel like you might as well be a leper. So, why? Maybe because it's wrongly associated with being dirty. I really think that's the major thing making it taboo. It matters little if you are OCD clean or "dirty" you stand equal chance of getting lice. Though, lice do seem to prefer nice clean heads. Direct head to head contact is the most likely way it it is transferred. From my research, lice prefer to stay on a live host and can't live for long without a host. That doesn't mean it's not impossible to get it from a hat or coat. I mean really, do I have to say it again? Better safe than sorry.

If you google lice myths and facts your will find out opinions vary. But most constantly you'll find that every article of bedding and clothing an infected person touched needs to be washed properly. It's really no different than say if someone in your house got a cold or the flu. You'd take the same measures to clean and disinfect.

Or does the taboo come from the fear of getting it? For me it was nearly utter panic. Causing me to be super observant of my kids and checking their heads every day. They never once scratched their heads in a suspicious way that I saw. Even my sister said she didn't see them doing it at Thanksgiving. She didn't even know we were on the watch for it but definitely major head scratching is a dead give away. Of course, excessive head scratching could also be from dandruff or in a few unlucky individuals psoriasis.

One thing that I noticed is that my Bridge already knew about the not sharing brushes and things with people. She also had a basic understanding of what lice were. She says from a cartoon video the school showed. From the school districts web site I found helpful tips. One was adding some orange oil into shampoo. It helps prevent lice or so they say. Probably couldn't hurt but I'm still researching that. Sounds better than the tea tree oil shampoo mixture I read about on another sight. That is apparently really smell and can only be used like once a week or it can lead to dandruff.

For what it's worth, I feel better getting this out there. For me, I feel like I'm breaking a taboo. But like any sickness we can get or kids/people with special needs, we should feel free to talk about it. To understand it and share our experiences.

Saturday, November 26, 2011


I've been a little MIA. Sorry bout that but I've had bit of writer's block. I attempted several blog topics only to have them sound forced.

Anyways, I have something to say today. YAY!

Yesterday afternoon Hubs and Sean left for Pasadena. That's Pasadena Tx y'all. Hubs is doing a one day coin show and at the last minute decided to take Sean. It is kind of problematic to take Sean. I mean, he does get bored easily and likes to ask a bazillion questions/tell you something at the wrong times. Hubs was a bit concerned how it'd be having Sean with him at the table but braved it anyway.

As I type this I have no idea how it's going just yet. I hope well.  I know that the drive down went well and they had a really good dinner last night. Hubs and I didn't chat to much last night as it was late and well he has to work today. After I told him how things had been here, really pretty good all things considered. Then I told him bout my accident with the falling can food on my toe. He told me to be more careful as he's not here to rush me to the ER. But that's not the point I wanted to make. Pardon my Oooo Shiny Moment.

What I am hoping that this Road Trip with just the two of them does is give them some major Father Son Bonding time. It's a 5 hour(ish) drive there and back. Road trips are really great for bonding. Also, if Sean behaves at the table he just may learn something. Plus, he'll have a better idea of what it is Hubs does. With that kind of information he may think less that Hubs is forever leaving us and more like hey that's how he's earning money for us right now.

It's not an official job like any of are used to Hubs having. At times it really does suck. (Like all the weekends away.) I know there are plenty of families doing without one half of there team. We're just not used to it. The last time Hubs had a job that kept him away for long periods of time Sean was a toddler and Bridge was a baby. But that's not my point either.

I know that as a family we all struggle in understanding/dealing with Sean. For me, it's a nice break. The kind of break I used to get when we lived in our own house and Nana would let him stay the night. Sometimes it turned into a whole weekend. Sometimes she'd take the girls and then it was just us and Sean. Sean by himself is not so bad. For some reason when he hits a mood Sean and the girls are just an explosion of no fun. Definite downside of living with Nana/Pop, no breaks. It's not like people are begging me to let them stay the night. Or that I am asking if they can. Honestly, there's not many choices for such a thing available.

So this time away allows the girls a break, too. More Sister Bonding and more Mother Daughter Bonding, though we really aren't doing much. I really hope it is the same for Hubs and Sean. I know it means a lot to Sean that he got to go. There's not much Hubs and Sean have in common. Sean has a way of instantly frustrating Hubs. Me? I have a slower longer burning frustration fuse, most days. So when Hubs makes the effort to have just Guy Time it's great! Usually it's just a day out and about town, That this Guy Time is a Road Trip makes it all the better. Who knows what it could lead to. For Sean, memories that will last a lifetime. For Hubs, the knowledge he didn't let this short time of our kids lives pass him by. The girls are not quite old enough for such a trip. Maybe when they are, Hubs will consider taking one of them. Or maybe someday we can make it a family affair. Even Hubs works a show and I take the kids exploring around whatever town/city we are in.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

That FB Bullying Post

This may come out in a rambling mess. It may seem to be all over the place. I am not what you might call poetic or real good with words. What I am is real. The way it comes out really doesn't matte so long as the point is made, correct?

While in the shower (isn't that where we all do our best thinking?) I got to thinking about the following Facebook post:

The girl you just called fat?... She is overdosing on diet pills.
The girl you just called ugly?... She spends hours putting makeup on hoping people will like her.
The boy you just tripped?... He is abused enough at home.
See that man with the ugly scars?... He fought for his country.
That guy you just made fun of for crying?... His mother is dying.
Put this as you're status if you're against bullying. I bet 95% of you wont re-post, but I'm sure the people with a heart will 

Now, you've probably all seen this if you have your own personal FB. You may, like me, have re-posted it. You may have also felt inclined to comment. I did.

You kmow what? I was never the popular kid, or called pretty, or felt like I fitted in BUT I had and still have some AWESOME friends! Most importantly, I'm happy with who I am and that I am just where and who God intended. BTW, you could also say I was like the tripped boy. So,

Sometimes you just gotta remember the Golden Rule, the one hardley taught anymore, Treat others as you want to be treated. Simple as that.

I left the spelling alone. I sometimes miss spelling mistakes and auto correct sometimes does, too. Those are the actual comments I made on my on re-post of this.

It took me a whole day to let it sink in. The wheels started churning. Why? When was it ever okay to make another feel bad about who they are? Never. Why then do we all do this? Yes, I have been mean to others in my youth. I used to join in teasing my youngest step sister cause she was not thin. Her nickname, Shamu. I wish I could say that was the meanest thing I ever said. It's not. I once worked with a girl who had couple kids and wasn't married. She was the brunt of jokes in the office. I barely in my 20s, maybe. I joined in. I once put a note on her desk that she had the devils baby. That, that is likely the worst thing I have ever said. Or at least the one that sticks out in my brain that I am most ashamed of. I know we all are aware of the psychology of the way this works. Those that are ridiculed feel horrible. They even sometimes ridicule others just to part of the crowd or make themselves feel better. Doesn't in anyway make it right. Maybe it just makes us human.

I hated school. I really truly did. I was picked on as far back as I can remember. I didn't have the "in" clothes. Once and only once I convinced my Daddy to buy me a pair of Guess jeans. I never ever felt like I belonged anywhere. I had some really awesome friends. I did. Very few of them ever knew what it was like at my house. How I had a single Daddy doing the very best he could and no clue how to do it. I mean, even today, what do men know about girls? Not a lot. You want a man to be uncomfortable, give him a daughter. I guarantee you it scares, pardon my language, the shit out of them. I cannot count how many times my Daddy said he knew what boys were like and what they wanted and that I shouldn't let em. I didn't have a Mom to tell me these things. The Step Mom I had could've cared less that I was prepared for life as a young lady. We had our issues, plenty of em. BUT Thank the Good Lord and Baby Jesus she was their for montly period time. I know well my Daddy did not handle training bra shopping. I am ever so grateful he didn't have to go actual bra shopping with/for me and instruct me on proper period stuff. It may be why he over looked for so very long the truth of what was going on. 

I'm not sure he ever knew what Elementary School was like. How I was called how kinds of ridiculous names and pushed around. It didn't end in Jr High or High School. It only got worse. By Jr High my Step Mom and I were visably at war. She rarely hit me. I think I was slapped in the face a few times. Never a mark that anyone could see. But oh how she liked to demean me in even the smallest way. She made me feel bad about being part of the National Junior Honor Society. I gave it up. She constantly wondered why I was such a bad girl at home but an angel at school. The meanest things she ever said to me still have the power to make me shake and cry and now, angry. Like how dare she say those things. Who gave her the right to speak like that? I don't think having 4 daughters and a previous marriage gave her that right. 

What two things did she say to me that I vividly recall? I'll tell you.

  • I hope you end up just like your Mother! 

As most of you are aware my Mother commited suicide when I was 5mos old way back in 1978. Compared to what is known today about the abuse cycle, Postpartum Depression, and Post Postpartum Psychosis they knew nothing. She was a casuality of it all. Her story is not mine to tell publicly. Let's just say, I know why she met that end. How she could get to the place where that was what she thought she had to do. 
  • If you weren't such an awful girl that would never have happened to you. Don't tell your Daddy. No one deserves to die for what is only your fault.
This has to really be the worst. As what this refers to is the fact I finally stood up to her. Told her my life away in the children's home was not all sunshine and rainbows nor was the months I spent living with the pastor of our church at the time. God help me and him if I ever see him. I wish I had listened to those friends who told me to tell someone that he sexually abused me. I still have never told my Daddy. As sick as he is and has been I know what he thinks of men, if you can call em that, like that and what he'd do. I cannot tell you how many more years it took me to tell another soul about that or to be able to say it is not and was not my fault. I was 14 for crying out loud! I was a very dumb, naive 14 year old. It took me even longer to be comfortable and happy with who I am. For years, I wondered why it happened and why no one seemed to care what happened to me. I know my Daddy did. As the other sick thing my Step Mom did was make my Daddy think I was heading down the same road as my Mom. That right there has got to be the most evil. I never once considered that path. Maybe briefly but then I knew what losing Mom had done. I knew my Daddy wouldn't survive another such incident. I know that when she died she apologized to my Daddy for it all. I wish she had to me but I could barely stand to visit my Daddy after I left home.

I can say that all this made me stronger. Probably even allows me to parent Sean and understand a bit his mind set. I may never fully get what it's like to be him and have compulsions to do or say things you don't understand and others understand less. To try not to be that parent who makes it worse in any way. To tell my kids when I am sorry for yelling at them for no good reason other than I am irritated. Some thing that's going a bit far. I see it as teaching my kids we are all imperfect beings and it's okay to admit it when you're wrong.

That FB post? It got me to thinking about this. How we may never really know what is going on in another's life. We don't really need to unless they are our friends and family and need to talk or just need someone to listen.

I am happy bullying is taken so seriously. A kid should be able to tell someone that another is bullying them without being told not to tattle. A kid, even a HS kid, should not have to feel like they have no where to turn or that they have to fight all their own battles. Schools should be safe places. Everyone their should just be able to get along and learn. Treat others as they want to be treated.

Which brings me back to why do kids feel like they need to be mean to others? Who taught them that? I sometimes wonder how those people who felt the need to torment me are doing now. Did they get over it and are super nice people now? Do they feel bad for all the hurt they caused, knowingly or unknowingly? OR do they still retain all that meanness and then some and have passed it on to a new generation? Often I think, from no actual experiences, that bullies are likely being bullied by an adult and bullying others is how they feel in control. 

I don't have a happy extended family. I was not a part of my family for long. I know my younger cousins and have happy memories. But, I really do not know who they are now. Hell, when I went to my Grandma B's funeral, I had no idea how to act. What to say or do. I want so badly to be a part of that family but do not know how. The two sides of my family have seemingly to me been at war. Neither really has a good word to say about the other. I sometimes do not think they even care it is me they may say these things to. The one caught in the middle. The one that ties the two sides together, no matter how frayed that tie is.

I teach my kids that any name calling is wrong and hurtful. I ask them how would they feel if someone said or did that to them. They slip as we all do but they are good kids and try their best. One of the worst things I think ever is being ashamed my kid called my BFF fat. Which is funny to me now cause his Daddy is no light weight and he wants to be just like his Daddy. He and I had a chat and he did apologize to my BFF. He may not get it now but someday he will. 

It made me remember teasing my Step Sister. I had no right to tease her. I think the only reason I did and the only reason we are not close is that poking at her was my way of getting at her Mom. Not right, I know. I don't understand my youngest Step Sister and do not approve of the way she's been going through life. But it is her life. If she is a bit rough and takes offense easily, really life has made her that way and she doesn't feel inclined to be better. Or something like that. That's not to say we don't have good memories, we do. Just not many. I'm not a real relation of hers and have no place telling her what is what. I do keep things civil these days. Neither of us had an easy life and part of hers was worse than mine. 

I know my BFF is one of the bestest people ever! Boy have we ever been through some storms. I know she's struggled with her weight forever. We both joke about how thin I am and how she isn't. Good naturedly, of course. Thing is, I think I am not thin. Shocking, no? I just tell her that good jeans and tee shirts can hide a lot. I know she worries about her daughter. She is not dainty. But God love that little girl she is so comfortable with who she is. I pray it may always be so.

I felt like that ugly girl. The one never called pretty. The one who desperately did all she could to fit in. Try this style or that. Do my hair this way or that. OH GOD! Daddy won't let me dye my hair! I have grey at's over? Why oh Why do I have all this darned hair in places it doesn't belong and he won't let me do anything about it! If he would let me call boys or even date, I could be more liked! I thought those were the worst things ever. But then it was only a drop in the bucket compared to other things I lived and saw. Now, now I know there are way worse things in life than a strict parent.

Another form of bullying in my book, silence and rewriting the past to suit you. I've never lied to anyone about my past. I hope telling my story helps someone somewhere. I could not even fathom making this crap up and enough people saw it to testify that I speak true. Others, just want to sleep better at night and forget the ugliness ever happened. It did happen. My Mom killed herself. She did so for reasons I only vaguely understand. I was abused emotionally and verbally by my 2nd Step Mom for years. Abused sexually by a pastor of our church. It's a freaking miracle I am alive to say so. It's also a miracle it didn't break me and make me a shadow of myself.

I don't know if knowing any of this would've made people think twice about being mean to me. I really hope that those kids who tormented me turned out to be better people in the end. I hope they are not teaching their kids to continue being bullies of any sort. We are all different and have different roads through life. Some of us even have to travel rough roads all through the school years. I do feel bad for the mean things I said and did to people and they may never know it. I hope I am a better example to my kids. That I am teaching them to be nice even when it's hard. To stand up for themselves by telling someone rather than fighting with the one bothering you. 

I think I got it all out. I hope it makes a difference to someone somewhere who thinks their life is worthless. No life is worthless. Not one single one. It matters to someone. Who you are and what you do makes impressions you cannot even begin to see or understand. 

Early Musings on my Zumba

I had another idea but it went bye bye as soon as I decided to type. I have no actual idea why I thought y'all should know. I guess I'm just the sharing type.

So, a couple of weeks ago I started Zumba. It's only 2 nights a week  (Tues/Thurs) for an hour. My thought process was something like this:

  • Well I'd like to move a bit more. 
  • I like the idea of getting out of my house for an hr in the evening twice a week.
  • It's almost as good as a Girls Night Out.
  • Okay, maybe not as good as a GNO but it's certainly up there. HELLO! I'm getting out of the house! Always a plus!
  • Is it Zum like Sum or Zum like Zoom? 
  • Why is it called Zumba?
  • WHO CARES! I'll be getting out of the house! I will be doing a good thing for my body!

So I went not really knowing what to expect but that I had nothing to lose as the first class was complimentary. What I discovered is that I had a good time even though I was lost and all over the place. Or, maybe I wasn't and I'm being overly critical of myself. It helped that the class is new and small. That I was put at ease by being told if I get lost just keep moving and fake it til ya get back in sync, or something like that. I thought that first class was never gonna end. When the last song played and it was some mix up of (I've Had the) Time of My Life from Dirty Dancing I thought what kind of sick joke is that? Really I was only half trying as I was desperately trying to keep up. After class my old High School friend that talked bout the class on FB was like the 2nd class is easier. Really?! How can that possibly be so.

Second class comes round. I'm still not looking anything like the instructor who makes it all look effortless BUT I am following along a bit better. I'm astounded by the confidence I feel. Like hey, they were right it does get easier. And after the class I noticed I was a little more sore and was sweating more. Yeah! I might actually be doing some good. And even though my legs feel like jelly I totally feel like I could take on the world. On the way home I'm thinking, OMG! This class could totally end up being HS Reunion like. I found out about this class from an old HS friend who talked bout it on FB. This night another girl we went to school with was there. (she will only be at Thurs class but still)

Third class comes around. I am back to being lost. Thinking to myself WTF happened? I had this last class. Instructor is talking bout how well we are doing and one of the, is it dances or routines?, she thinks we can add in the 2nd half. SAY WHAT?! And then we'll take this or that out and add this. I am totally smiling and nodding like I live for these things. Inside I'm freaking out cause I know I don't have it. I don't know the steps we are doing now. This class for some reason my arms and legs refused to work together. Meaning, I could do the arm movements or the leg/steps but not both at the same time. Then I was totally concerned with the way my body wasn't moving. I know I am over thinking this and I wish I knew how to deactivate it.

Then it occurred to me that next week the studio is closed for Thanksgiving. Class 5 is gonna be a hoot! I mean I have a whole week for lose everything I think I've learned and for my body to forget what it feels like during and after a class. I am just now adjusting to it and coming out of the it's totally kicking my rear feeling.

That makes me realize that I wish I knew how to shake it like the instructor does without looking like a spaz. (No I have no idea when the last time I used that word is, maybe in Jr High.) I have no butt to speak of so I am pretty sure that is why it doesn't shake independently of the rest of me. Also, my breasts, pretty sure they are meant to stay confined. Otherwise someone could get hurt. Aside from being able to shake it which I am not certain is necessary for the class I wish I could get the steps down. I have no dancing ability in me at all.

I was talking to MIL who is of Latin descent (look at me being all PC) and telling her she'd love this class and would probably excel at it as she has the rhythm I lack. Out dancing, I am that girl with a drink in her hand/has downed at least 2 drinks totally faking it. I really lived for the slow dances, wink wink. OR so it was once upon a long time ago before I had kids. MIL then proceeds to tell me that her butt isn't shaking it's the way she's moving that makes it seem so. Then there was something about the knees. This was after telling her I get confused when the instructor says things like salsa. I know she's doing it and saying it and we are supposed to follow. My brain tells me this. The problem is my brain is also busy trying to process what is salsa step? Instead of just following along.

After class, like I said my legs are like jelly. The next day I am sore almost all over. Does this mean I am doing something right or am I doing it all wrong and hurting unnecessarily?

I am no expert on Zumba, I know. I also know that 3 classes will not make me so. Tomorrow is my 4th class. I am sure I will once again be like Oh I got this, even though we are learning new things we will forget over Thanksgiving. I'm also pretty sure that soon I will not even know what class number I am on. By then, I hope to be able to say I can follow along with the best of em. Also, I will sooner rather than later move from over thinking it to just go with it. Once I can get my brain to disengage from that I am pretty sure I find that I will find the class is more fun and I will be doing better. It's not rocket science for crying out loud.

Hopefully the next time I decide to blog on this it will be better. Better how? I'm not sure.

Monday, November 7, 2011

A Laugh at Coco's Expense

I don't know if this is blog worthy or not but I found it funny and thought I'd share. It could be the utter lack of sleep I had last night, who knows.

So, something like 2 weeks ago new wood like laminate flooring was installed in the house. The new flooring is in the Office, the Dining Area, the Living Room, and the Hallway. It's nice and pretty. Doesn't show dirt & hold odor like carpets. All good things.

We humans love the new flooring. Coco, Nana's dog, not so much. She can no longer jump on a chair or sofa easily. In fact, I'm not sure I've seen her do so. I've seen her make valiant attempts but then one of us humans gives her a hand up. No longer does she run to the living room, jump on a chair or sofa, and bark madly when Nana comes home, so that Nana will scoop her up. Nope, now she pretty much runs in place barking madly waiting for Nana to scoop her up.

Until this morning, I thought Coco had adjusted fairly well to the floors. But I just watched her try to jump into the laundry basket in the hallway. (this is mostly where she likes to hangout when Nana is gone) She just couldn't do it. I can only imagine what's running through her head or how it feels to no longer have the grip on the floor you once had. I thought maybe Coco would just come hop on my bed, she's rather fond of my leopard plush blanket. In fact, I'm convinced she thinks that blanket is hers. She's been known to not sit with Nana on Family Movie Night if I have that blanket out.

But I digress.

I watched Coco try to figure out a way to get into the laundry basket. When she decided she couldn't do it she barked. A signal for a human to take pity on her and put her in the basket of dirty clothes. Instead of helping her into the basket I just died laughing. Coco just sat there staring at the basket. She did take a moment to give me a "You Suck!" look before she trotted off to where ever she is gonna hide out today. Who knows, she may yet deign to come lay on my bed.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

10 Minutes

So what can you do in 10 minutes?

Watch 1/4 of a 30 minute TV show? Get dressed? Have a quickie? Think about it.

What can't you do in 10 minutes?

Labor/Delivery of a child? Grocery Shop? Satisfy your partner? (but that's another post but not from me, k)

Why do I pose this question?

Because as short a time span as 10 Minutes seems it sometimes is excruciating slow. Sooooo very, very sloooow.

So now that I got you thinking about 10 Minutes, think about Modern Conveniences.

Modern Conveniences like: Internet, Lap Tops, 24 Hour Pharmacies....

Gas Stations on every corner!

Come to think of it, 24 Hour Pharmacies are on practically every corner. But that's besides the point...what ever that means...

Back to the point

Except for the 10 minute stretch of FM Road a bit of a way from my house.

Picture this. A nice dinner at a restaurant about 35 minutes from my house. Hubs and I met up after Sean's appointment and had a family dinner. Afterwards, Sean rode home with him and the girls rode home with me. Now picture me on that stretch of FM Road with 1 glass and a half of water and one very larger margarita hitting my system.

Do you begin to see it in your head?

Me desperately wishing I was closer to a Gas Station. Thinking of anything but the fact I need to go so bad that I can't recall the last time I had to go that bad except maybe when I was pregnant...Beating on the steering wheel...clean language cursing at the stop lights...the girls joining in at yelling "Green! Green! Green! TURN GREEN! PLEASE GOD IN HEAVEN GREEN!

FINALLY! Back to civilization! Appropriate places that a gal can stop and pee!

I didn't find the girls yelling "RUN! RUN! RUN!" funny at the time I was practically sprinting to the back of the Wal Greens to the restrooms.

The rest of the drive home I thought, any other day, anybody else, and this would be funny. After that thought I was like, MAN! Do I ever take modern conveniences for granted.

At least my girls didn't say, "You should've gone before we left."

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

I used to really loathe Halloween BUT...

It may come as a shock to some but I'm not the biggest fan of Halloween. Never really have been as far as I can recall. That said, I really did enjoy it last night.

Why? What changed? Maybe just my attitude or the fact I actually participated in 1 kids costume hunt and had a hand in helping dress them up? Was it the humor of my dressing up? Let's explore.

Fact: I was a tad traumatized as a little kid. When in 1st or 2nd grade (could've been 3rd) my then Step Mom came dressed as a hobo clown thing in full dress and make up. Walked up to me gave me big hug in the cafeteria. Me? I screamed and cried bloody murder. I had no idea who the thing hugging me was as she didn't say hi or anything. Same lady took me to a haunted house where people popping out of coffins had me nearly peeing my pants.

Fact: Then there was the time I was in 5th or 6th grade and went to Haunted House with 2 of my new sisters (at least their Mom and my Dad may have been married at the time, possible they were still dating). The oldest sister and her boyfriend drove us. I remember calling him by the wrong name on accident and then on purpose just for the reaction. We made it through most of the Haunted House before I freaked out. Literally. We were at the end and someone fired up a chain saw. All I heard was that chain saw and saw evil looking faces. We were the last in our group at the back of the crowd. When the exit door opened I ran for my very life screaming and crying. I was the first person out and I ran clear to the next parking lot before my sisters and the boyfriend caught up to me.

Fact: Once I became a parent with a kid who was old enough to Trick or Treat I practically loathed Halloween. Tons of candy for a little one but not all holds barred to marathon eat the loot. Kind of a downer for the kid and a headache for the parents. Few years later and it's candy buckets filled to the brim times 3. With the inevitable he/she stole my candy or he/she got more than me. UGH!

Given all the above is it any wonder Halloween is my least favorite time? I mean the candy is nice and all but the rest...Yeah I can do without it.

I cannot recall ever being a part of the costume hunt for any of my kids or helping to fix them up. Nana loves to do that. I let her. I was a fuddy duddy cause I put limits on appropriateness of costumes. Espcially Sean's. He was already too obsessed with violent things and I didn't want him dressing up as an axe murder or anything. No characters from movies he wasn't allowed to watch. You get the idea. I was told it was a natural boy thing and not many seemed to think like I did. You'd have to know Sean like I know him to know how extreme he could take his rough boy games. Be it Cowboys and Indians or Transformers he went way over the top. It seemed more times than not he couldn't play nice and always had to be rough and mean. Several times kids have chosen not to play with him. Anyways...

Last year I had fun doing up the girls hair in their punk rocker wannabe dress up. Ratted out pony tails and bangs with multicolored hair spray and sparkles. Sean dressed as a viking. I have always grudingly taken them around the neighborhood but never really got caught up in their excitement.

This year, I did get caught up in it all. Nana came home with the girls costumes. They were on cloud 9 over their dresses. A good witch for Bridge and Queen for Meg. She gave me money to get Sean a costume. Sean was spouting grotesque things he wanted to be and I said age appropriate. Nana said I'm paying he gets what he wants. I said ok to her but in the car told Sean whatever he wants within reason. Meaning I had the last say, I was after all taking him. He wanted to be a ninja. No ninja things to be found. So then he nicely begged to have the skeleton with the blood costume. I shrugged and said alright. It was not as bad as some other things he looked at. And for a first time scary costume thing, not too far off my limit mark.

We had all ready but for hair stuff. So, after dinner on Sunday I begged hubs to take us to Wal Mart so I could get a few things. He wanted me to go the next day but  I knew I wouldn't have time and the stores would be crazy on Halloween to boot. So we went. Boring stuff like allergy and cold meds for the kids, shampoo & conditioner for the girls, etc... Then came the fun part. I got to pick the colored hair spray! White for Sean and Bridge. I just knew Sean's hair had to be all white and B would be the perfect witch with a touch of white hair. Then multicolored glitter hair spray for the girls.

I loved the mad rush to get everyone dressed and fixed up. Spraying all that white spray in Sean's hair was fun and we both had a fit of laughter at the result. Doing up Bridge hair was something else. She knew just how she wanted it an by golly I provided. Meg, well it was little tougher for her to not fidget whilst I was trying to coerce her hair into braids. Spraying Meg's hair was much simpler since we were aiming for an over sparkled effect. Make up was fun too! I never buy special make up, just use mine. The girls love it! It's one of the few times I allow a full (or my version of it anyway) make up look.

For the first time in years I decided to "dress up". Though the kids didn't get the humor in my "costume", they loved I participated. I may have to do it again next year. The "dressing up" thing.

In the background of all the madness, Hocus Pocus was playing in the living room and Halloween music was on in my room. Hubs was grilling fajita meat for quick and easy tacos. It was crazy but fun.

After a quick dinner we all went Trick or Treating! For the first time ever hubs joined in. Walking around the neighborhood with our kids together was fantastic! They were running as far ahead as they could. We were hand in hand or arm in arm behind them. Hubs snapping pictures. Yet another reason I could totally get into this Halloween thing next year. Maybe I can even convince hubs to "dress up".

So maybe just maybe I'm coming round to liking this Halloween thing. Thanks for reading this crazy post! Enjoy our Halloween Pics below! (in no particular order)

HRM Meghan

Adorkable Me

Candy Corn the Good Witch

Sean as the Grim Reaper

Strike a Pose and She'll let us go Trick or Treating!

The Blood Works

Not too shabby for Adorkable

We want to run ahead NOT stay with Mama

This house actually scared Meg. She recovered quickly though.

Nice Hair!

Wands Away!

We Are Not Impressed!

The Loot!

Almost everyone wants to pose w/Mama

B Just had to have pics of her hair

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