Hockey has begun again.
The Captain came off the ice tonight and his eyes were damp - probably from watering because it was so cold. His eyelashes had frost on them. As his eyes watered, it froze on his eyelashes.
Someday, when he's choosing my nursing home, I hope he looks back on his youth and remembers that his mom (who abhors the cold), stood out there every Tuesday and Thursday night supporting him. In the cold. It better be a really nice nursing home.
Don't go through life without goals. ~Hockey Saying
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Momma's Boy
In the car on the way to the barn today, the Diva was talking about horses (as usual!). She was telling us how a colt will just follow it's mother around for several months after it's birth. She said if you need to move the colt and the mother, the colt will never need a lead rope, it will just follow wherever you take it's mom. (I don't know if this is true since she knows WAY more about the horse world than I do - but it sounds reasonable and she usually knows what she is talking about when it comes to horses).
It was quiet for a minute, then the Captain said (in all seriousness) "That's just like me!" It was quite the funny moment coming from my mini-me.
You are my sonshine. ~Author Unknown
It was quiet for a minute, then the Captain said (in all seriousness) "That's just like me!" It was quite the funny moment coming from my mini-me.
You are my sonshine. ~Author Unknown
Monday, January 14, 2008
Deja Vu
Now the Diva has whatever the Captain had a few days ago.
The only difference is there were no dogs in her line of fire.
Keep your fingers crossed that it stops with her and doesn't continue on through the rest of the household.
It is sometimes as dangerous to be run into by a microbe as by a trolley car. ~J.J. Walsh
The only difference is there were no dogs in her line of fire.
Keep your fingers crossed that it stops with her and doesn't continue on through the rest of the household.
It is sometimes as dangerous to be run into by a microbe as by a trolley car. ~J.J. Walsh
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Pre-snow
To the mother in Walmart:
When there is a snow storm coming (again) and there are 10,000 people in Walmart because we might be snowed in for three months, it is probably not a good idea to let your toddler steer your shopping cart through the store.
If you do, however, insist on letting her do this, do NOT throw dirty glances at everyone YOUR toddler runs into with the cart.
Thank you.
When there is a snow storm coming (again) and there are 10,000 people in Walmart because we might be snowed in for three months, it is probably not a good idea to let your toddler steer your shopping cart through the store.
If you do, however, insist on letting her do this, do NOT throw dirty glances at everyone YOUR toddler runs into with the cart.
Thank you.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Y'all ain't gonna believe this shit
I don't know who to attribute that to, but it's the punchline to this joke: How do rednecks start a fairy tale? I've always wanted to use it but never had an opportunity. Until now. Because really - y'all ain't gonna believe this shit.
Disclaimer: This is a story about vomit. It is detailed. If it will make you queasy or light-headed, PLEASE NAVIGATE AWAY FROM THIS PAGE. NOW.
I do not handle vomit well at all. My children's father is some sort of vomit super hero...I have actually witnessed him cupping his hands below our daughter's chin when she has announced she is going to be sick. As if he is going to catch whatever might come up. The mere thought of that makes ME queasy. I would be one of those people who would have navigated away when I read the disclaimer.
As stated in my earlier post, my son stayed home from school today because of an upset tummy. That boy can will himself not to throw up. Honestly, he can. The first time that child threw up was right before Christmas last year. He was 8 years old before that ever happened to him and it affected him in a deep negative manner.
His first wave of nausea came around 7:30 this morning during his shower. He called for me and I went in to the bathroom where I found him kneeling in front of the toilet, heaving. Just the motion - no sound, no vomit. He didn't want to go to school because he was afraid he might be sick there, so he hung out on the couch all day. Occasionally he would go in to the bathroom and call for me and we would repeat the scenario from this morning. He took sips of ginger ale and had a bit of chicken soup for lunch.
Dinner rolled around. We had a yummy mozzarella chicken so I cooked plain noodles to put it over, also knowing he might want something to eat. He said he was hungry so he did indeed have just a small plate of plain noodles. About 2 hours later he wanted some more plain noodles so I got him a small bowl. Then he wanted a fruit ice. No problem...and I'm happy that he wants to try to eat something.
Off and on through the day I would ask him how he was feeling and he would say he wasn't feeling too bad but he wasn't feeling great either. He carried a bucket with him everywhere...every trip to the bathroom (just in case he needed it on the way)...it was next to him on the couch, he put it on a chair next to him when he played on the computer for a bit. You get the idea.
Bedtime rolled around. He pulled his trashcan to the edge of his bed and placed the bucket on it so it was RIGHT THERE NEXT TO HIM.
P-Man and I watched some tv then started to get ready for bed ourselves. He headed outside with the dogs, I fed the cats and looked in on the kids who were both sound asleep. I went in to my bathroom and was in the process of washing my face when I heard the first whimper. This was no less than 2 minutes after I verified that both kids were fast asleep. I stopped what I was doing for a moment and said "Captain?" No reply. Thinking the dogs must have made the sound when they came into the bedroom, I ignored it. Then I heard it again and it was the unmistakable sound of my child whimpering. I open the door to see...vomit. Lots of it. On my bedroom floor. It took me a few seconds to realize it was still coming. With no god damned bucket in sight. In my panic to get him to the toilet, the next wave leaves a trail through my bathroom, even in the heating vent. By the time he gets to the toilet, he's done. Fantastic. The kid can actually will himself not to throw up for 14 hours while he is awake. Apparently he has not mastered controlling his will while he is asleep.
I turn on the shower and get him in there since it was, literally, everywhere. As he was in the shower, P-Man and I started the clean up process. (Thank god for him. I can honestly say I do not expect him to help with this part of the step-parenting. I mean, really...cleaning up vomit?)
I think we've done a pretty good job. I don't smell it in the bedroom or the bathroom. My son is again camped out on the couch (with the bucket once again next to him.), and I tell P-Man that I am going to stay out here with him until he's ready for bed. So I bring a quilt out and start to settle in when I smell P-Man's cologne. I assume it means he is trying to cover up a bad smell so I go back into our bedroom to ask him and he says he smelled something when he walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom.
We look all over and don't see anything that might be causing the smell. We've obviously missed something, but neither of us see where.
Until I see this:
.JPG)
That is our Hairless Chinese Crested. Complete with jammies...'cause, well, he's hairless. Except for those few scraggly tufts on his head and ears...and the end of his tail. He looks a bit like a troll doll but that's a post from another time.
Anyway, I see Harry (original, no?) perched proudly on our bed. Except that his hair is...well...sort of wet-ish and slicked down on the side of his head.
"Why is Harry's head all wet?" I ask P-Man. I already know, without a doubt, why.
"What do you mean, his head is wet?" P-Man responds.
In my head: "Oh no, oh no, no no no, oh please NO."
I bend forward to take a sniff as does P-Man. Oh. My. God. The Captain threw up on the dog.
So here we are at 2:00 AM. Clean bedroom, clean bathroom, clean dog. The captain fell asleep quickly on the couch and since I don't want to just leave him out here in the living room, here I am as well.
The fun never ends. But I wouldn't trade it for the world.
I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive. ~Gilda Radner (even when they've been thrown up on)
Disclaimer: This is a story about vomit. It is detailed. If it will make you queasy or light-headed, PLEASE NAVIGATE AWAY FROM THIS PAGE. NOW.
I do not handle vomit well at all. My children's father is some sort of vomit super hero...I have actually witnessed him cupping his hands below our daughter's chin when she has announced she is going to be sick. As if he is going to catch whatever might come up. The mere thought of that makes ME queasy. I would be one of those people who would have navigated away when I read the disclaimer.
As stated in my earlier post, my son stayed home from school today because of an upset tummy. That boy can will himself not to throw up. Honestly, he can. The first time that child threw up was right before Christmas last year. He was 8 years old before that ever happened to him and it affected him in a deep negative manner.
His first wave of nausea came around 7:30 this morning during his shower. He called for me and I went in to the bathroom where I found him kneeling in front of the toilet, heaving. Just the motion - no sound, no vomit. He didn't want to go to school because he was afraid he might be sick there, so he hung out on the couch all day. Occasionally he would go in to the bathroom and call for me and we would repeat the scenario from this morning. He took sips of ginger ale and had a bit of chicken soup for lunch.
Dinner rolled around. We had a yummy mozzarella chicken so I cooked plain noodles to put it over, also knowing he might want something to eat. He said he was hungry so he did indeed have just a small plate of plain noodles. About 2 hours later he wanted some more plain noodles so I got him a small bowl. Then he wanted a fruit ice. No problem...and I'm happy that he wants to try to eat something.
Off and on through the day I would ask him how he was feeling and he would say he wasn't feeling too bad but he wasn't feeling great either. He carried a bucket with him everywhere...every trip to the bathroom (just in case he needed it on the way)...it was next to him on the couch, he put it on a chair next to him when he played on the computer for a bit. You get the idea.
Bedtime rolled around. He pulled his trashcan to the edge of his bed and placed the bucket on it so it was RIGHT THERE NEXT TO HIM.
P-Man and I watched some tv then started to get ready for bed ourselves. He headed outside with the dogs, I fed the cats and looked in on the kids who were both sound asleep. I went in to my bathroom and was in the process of washing my face when I heard the first whimper. This was no less than 2 minutes after I verified that both kids were fast asleep. I stopped what I was doing for a moment and said "Captain?" No reply. Thinking the dogs must have made the sound when they came into the bedroom, I ignored it. Then I heard it again and it was the unmistakable sound of my child whimpering. I open the door to see...vomit. Lots of it. On my bedroom floor. It took me a few seconds to realize it was still coming. With no god damned bucket in sight. In my panic to get him to the toilet, the next wave leaves a trail through my bathroom, even in the heating vent. By the time he gets to the toilet, he's done. Fantastic. The kid can actually will himself not to throw up for 14 hours while he is awake. Apparently he has not mastered controlling his will while he is asleep.
I turn on the shower and get him in there since it was, literally, everywhere. As he was in the shower, P-Man and I started the clean up process. (Thank god for him. I can honestly say I do not expect him to help with this part of the step-parenting. I mean, really...cleaning up vomit?)
I think we've done a pretty good job. I don't smell it in the bedroom or the bathroom. My son is again camped out on the couch (with the bucket once again next to him.), and I tell P-Man that I am going to stay out here with him until he's ready for bed. So I bring a quilt out and start to settle in when I smell P-Man's cologne. I assume it means he is trying to cover up a bad smell so I go back into our bedroom to ask him and he says he smelled something when he walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom.
We look all over and don't see anything that might be causing the smell. We've obviously missed something, but neither of us see where.
Until I see this:
.JPG)
That is our Hairless Chinese Crested. Complete with jammies...'cause, well, he's hairless. Except for those few scraggly tufts on his head and ears...and the end of his tail. He looks a bit like a troll doll but that's a post from another time.
Anyway, I see Harry (original, no?) perched proudly on our bed. Except that his hair is...well...sort of wet-ish and slicked down on the side of his head.
"Why is Harry's head all wet?" I ask P-Man. I already know, without a doubt, why.
"What do you mean, his head is wet?" P-Man responds.
In my head: "Oh no, oh no, no no no, oh please NO."
I bend forward to take a sniff as does P-Man. Oh. My. God. The Captain threw up on the dog.
So here we are at 2:00 AM. Clean bedroom, clean bathroom, clean dog. The captain fell asleep quickly on the couch and since I don't want to just leave him out here in the living room, here I am as well.
The fun never ends. But I wouldn't trade it for the world.
I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive. ~Gilda Radner (even when they've been thrown up on)
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Is this a problem?
My son is home with me today - an upset tummy kept him home.
He was settled on the couch playing with some matchbox cars when he said "Mom, do you know what all the rescue vehicles are doing?" When I replied that I did not, he informed me that they were boxing in all the photographers so Britney could get away.
I swear I don't know how he knows about all of that. Are the 3rd graders passing around copies of The Star and The National Enquirer at recess?
We can't quite decide if the world is growing worse, or if the reporters are just working harder. ~The Houghton Line, November 1965
He was settled on the couch playing with some matchbox cars when he said "Mom, do you know what all the rescue vehicles are doing?" When I replied that I did not, he informed me that they were boxing in all the photographers so Britney could get away.
I swear I don't know how he knows about all of that. Are the 3rd graders passing around copies of The Star and The National Enquirer at recess?
We can't quite decide if the world is growing worse, or if the reporters are just working harder. ~The Houghton Line, November 1965
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Are these really necessary?
Maybe it's because she's becoming more aware of her surroundings, or maybe it's because she is now 12 and thus allowed to sit in the front seat of the car. Probably a combination of the two. Anyway, the other day, The Diva spotted these on a big ol' 4x4 truck in front of us.
Her: "What is that hanging off that truck?"
Me: (having already spotted them and begun praying she doesn't ask what they are) *blink* *blink* "What?"
Her: "That thing hanging off the back of that guys truck. That! That hangy thingy!"
Me: "Look! The lights are still on the tree in the town square!"
Her: "Mom."
Me: "Okay, okay...it is supposed to be a scrotum. Do you know what a scrotum is?"
Her: "Yes. Why does he need that on his truck?"
Me: "Good question."
So now I ask...are these really necessary? Maybe I should design some sort of breast that I can put over the headlights on my little SUV.
I'm no prude, but I guess I have a problem with having to explain to my 12 year old why someone would want that hanging off the back of their vehicle. I tried to not use words like Redneck, I really did.
Don't worry, it only seems kinky the first time. ~Author Unknown
Her: "What is that hanging off that truck?"
Me: (having already spotted them and begun praying she doesn't ask what they are) *blink* *blink* "What?"
Her: "That thing hanging off the back of that guys truck. That! That hangy thingy!"
Me: "Look! The lights are still on the tree in the town square!"
Her: "Mom."
Me: "Okay, okay...it is supposed to be a scrotum. Do you know what a scrotum is?"
Her: "Yes. Why does he need that on his truck?"
Me: "Good question."
So now I ask...are these really necessary? Maybe I should design some sort of breast that I can put over the headlights on my little SUV.
I'm no prude, but I guess I have a problem with having to explain to my 12 year old why someone would want that hanging off the back of their vehicle. I tried to not use words like Redneck, I really did.
Don't worry, it only seems kinky the first time. ~Author Unknown
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Balance
I have been reading on quite a few blogs about the concept of choosing a word to focus on through the year.
Although I am a couple of days late posting this, I have decided on my word.
I want to achieve balance in many areas of my life, but mostly between work and home life.
Working from home actually makes this hard. The line between work and home is quite often blurred. Sometimes too much time is spent working just because "I can". It is not the same as leaving the office at 4:00PM with your work left on your desk to welcome you the next morning. My work is all right here, accessible at any time - day or night.
So, BALANCE it is.
Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right. ~Oprah Winfrey
Although I am a couple of days late posting this, I have decided on my word.
BALANCE
I want to achieve balance in many areas of my life, but mostly between work and home life.
Working from home actually makes this hard. The line between work and home is quite often blurred. Sometimes too much time is spent working just because "I can". It is not the same as leaving the office at 4:00PM with your work left on your desk to welcome you the next morning. My work is all right here, accessible at any time - day or night.
Internal balance as well. Working to become more centered and balanced is important to me.
So, BALANCE it is.
Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right. ~Oprah Winfrey
Dude. Seriously.
Um, yeah. It snowed again yesterday. Like 15 inches or some such shit. (For those of you who have read 100 things about Tekfan...I wasn't kidding when I said I do not enjoy snow after Christmas).
The kiddos didn't have school today...and after we dug out and the weather cleared, we took a trip to WalMart for another tote to store Christmas decorations in. (Side note: Just how did we collect that much more Christmas stuff this year that warrants another whole tote - that is almost fully filled?!). Anyway, at intersections, I couldn't see past the ginormous snow banks to look for oncoming traffic. Much more of this and we will be tunneling to the grocery store until March or April.
So now all the decorations are packed away and the long winter months loom ahead. I need to make me some cash so I can spend weekends here:
That's actually P-Town, on the cape - which is no better weather wise than where I am, but it will have to do as an example of what warm weather looks like. And where I'd like to be.
Winter is nature's way of saying, "Up yours." ~Robert Byrne
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