Something different

Okay...I previously had an entire post worked out.  However, it was a little on the downer side, and I'm tired of being down.  Too many down things in life suck and I'm tired of dwelling.  I'm more willing to focus on the good stuff, cause that's what's important.  My heart goes out to those that are having a hard time right now.  I think in life we mainly learn from our hardships, but it really sucks going through them.  And I have often wished we could just skip that part, all together.  Too bad I'm not in charge, right?

So anyway, I'm just going to tell you a couple of things we've been up to, lately.  And surprisingly, it's been quite a bit....life is getting a lot busier all of a sudden.  A couple weeks ago I babysat for my sister-in-law.  This was fun for me, actually.  I mean, with Jeff's family being so large, it seems like there are a lot of other choices for babysitters.  And, my kids are kind of in that in between phase.  While there are cousins that are quite a bit older, and then cousins that are quite a bit younger, and it seems like because they just aren't that close to most of their cousins in age, my taking care of the nieces or nephews doesn't happen that often.  And I'm not saying that in an angry way at all...just fyi.  I'm just stating it how it is.  Anyhoo, I got to watch Axel.  He's Kory and Amy's little boy, and he's pretty adorable.  I guess he wasn't feeling very well the day that he came over, and he fell asleep on the way to my house, so he woke up in a strange place, and I wasn't sure about his routine, so he was a little homesick.  (Anyway, this is what I've been telling myself.  It could just be that there IS another reason I never babysit kids...and that's because they hate me).  

I tried to get a lot of pictures while he was here, but he didn't like me putting him down to take them.  And so when I tried to "get one real quick", he'd start to cry like I abandoned him.  Thinking that maybe he was just sick of being in a strange place, I figured maybe he would like to go on a bike ride with me and Syd.  And I was wrong, yet again:

Before the ride:

I was a little concerned that maybe I had entirely the wrong idea, but they actually calmed down while we were traveling. (And Axel didn't let that little Domo doll go the entire time he was here, which I thought was cute). But  as they rode in the bike cart, Syd decided that she liked to put her leg right on Axel's lap.  And he hated that.  So when I got to the halfway spot, I decided to take another picture.  Just to see if I could come up with something to send to Amy so she wouldn't worry about Axel not having a good time:

And as you can see I failed, again.  Sydney had just kicked the Domo out of Axel's hands, and he was back to hating life, while Syd was just being her usual bratty self.  At that point I decided to hurry home as fast as possible.  It kind of puts a damper on your enjoyment of physical activities when you have two screamers protesting every inch.  

When we drove into my driveway, they were basically quiet.  And they just were staring ahead and Sydney wasn't being mean, and Axel wasn't crying, so I whipped my phone out to capture their looks of boredom, in order to have proof that they didn't hate every second:

And when I looked at them, they remembered what a terrible time they were having.  So I have no proof whatsoever that they enjoyed any of my hard work and sweat stains.  

When we went inside the house, we encountered more drama.  I think it was snack time, because both of them were hot and hungry.  I fixed them some snacks of crackers and cheese and juice and they still weren't having it.  Now I know that this is Syd's normal stuff, so I think she was just crying because she refused to be outdone by Axel--who is not only smaller, but also a boy.  
Like he usually does, Elmo saved the day.  And like I usually do, I didn't get a picture of both of them being happy for an hour or so.  Or of me snuggling with Axel, as he's a boy that likes to lie right beside you and touch you, or have you touch him.  It reminded me of Cole when he was a baby and though it was nice, it was also sad at the same time...because that age is such a fleeting moment.  And all kids are different.  There is NO way Syd would let me just hold her hand or tickle her arms while watching Elmo--her need to dance and sing and kiss the TV is just too strong. So Amy? Enjoy that he's a snuggler for as long as it lasts.  Because unfortunately, it never does.  And thanks for letting me watch him.  If you need someone again, you know my number.  
Okay all, I know this was a short post after such a long silence from me....and I KNOW you missed my quick wit and charm.  But don't worry.  I've still got a lot to enlighten you with, I'm just taking my time.  Later Dudes. 

Heartbreak

I'm sure that many of you know I don't watch the news.  I refuse.  It massively depresses me, and though I'm aware that bad things happen, I don't like to dwell on them.  I don't like for my brain to automatically hit replay on all the sick and cruel and terrible things of the world.  And it will.  And it drives me crazy when it does.  When a person will agonize for the next week over every single thing she said the one night she actually went outside of her home, worrying whether or not she's offended someone or whether she's possibly made enemies out of previous friends, well, that person really has no business watching the news.  Obviously, she can't handle it.  Anyway, that may or may not have made sense to you, but I know what I'm talking about.  Honest.
So, no news-watching.  However, I do check my Facebook news regularly, (if you can call it that), and things that are posted there, if I sense they aren't overly terrible, I'll quench my curiosity, and check them out.  I did this last week with a message from funny woman, Ellen.  I knew it would be serious, but I thought it would be a "serious with a silver-lining", you know? Well, it wasn't.  It was Ellen pleading to the watching audience to teach their children to be respectful of others.  And by that, I mean simple lessons.  Like, "Be nice".  And "Be tolerant".  And "Be civil to people that you don't understand, or agree with".  
Essentially a college student was recorded while with his lover, who was also male.  He was recorded by his roommates without his knowledge, as he wasn't open to sharing that particular part of his life with everyone.  And they posted it on the internet, and it destroyed him, and he took his life.  For those of you that have already heard this story and a bazillion like it, it may just be another sad story for you.  But it hit me really hard.  
I've had terrible, and really mean things said or done to me in my lifetime.  And a lot of us look back on our childhood or teen years and wonder how we made it through.  So many feelings and so many attempts to adjust to life.  To learn how to get by; preferably unnoticed a lot of the time.  But you know what's a million times worse?  Having terrible things said or done to our children.  I can't imagine what those parents are thinking.  How broken they are about their son thinking that there was nothing he could do to take back that incident.  To go unnoticed again, or to face others, thinking that he would be hated and judged.  And for those of you that don't have any kids?  Imagine your nieces or nephews.  Or imagine your favorite animal, being teased by those mean kids that hurt it for no reason, other than to see what it would do.  And tell me it doesn't make you sick to your stomach.  Tell me it doesn't make you want to strangle each and every one of them.  Because they're just being terrible.  Or because they just want to see someone feel uncomfortable, and laugh about it.  
The sad fact is, kids are mean.  I don't think there's a kid out there that hasn't said or done something horrible to someone else out of self-loathing or retribution or whatever.  I remember how hard it was to be made fun of, and how, for some reason, doing the same thing to others made sense to me.  I don't get it now, but I know that it happened.  And I regret it.  There are a lot of kids out there that I was really awful to.  John Strandwitz?  David Iverson? And I have no one blame for it, but myself.  
However, as parents?  We still have a responsibility to teach our kids to be respectful of others.  I'm not talking about the "just because they're old, they need to be listened to" type of respect.  I'm talking about the fact that because it is another life form...vegetable, animal, and most definitely human, they deserve to be treated in a respectful way.  It doesn't matter if they are Gay. Or Mexican.  Or Israeli, or African American or Native American.  It doesn't matter if you've had Asian roommates that were weird and stinky...(yeah, that's a personal experience).  You teach your children that these others are individuals.  And just because they live differently than we might, that's their decision and they still deserve our respect.  And are still worthy of friendship.  
I've been around people in which the things they say about others are honestly terrible and cruel.  And they say these things around their children.  I don't know if it's because they just don't care and are hateful enough to pass that on through their kids, or if they assume that their kids are stupid, and aren't picking up and believing the awful things they're saying about others.  In fact, the sad truth is that there are quite a few family members of mine that I won't be around with my kids. Just because of the words that are casually tossed around during every conversation.  I feel that my children are hurt when they're in that type of environment.  Or worse, that they will think it's okay to hurt someone else. 
Anyway, that's that.  Teach your children that there are still a lot of places that being kind and nice and respectful will get you.  And places those attributes will help you avoid. Like jail.  Or hate crime lawsuits.  


One last thing.  And this is just ME saying how I feel.  So, I'm not necessarily including anyone else in my personal opinions.  But, I need to say this.  Here in Utah, there are a lot of individuals that back their own rants and ravings with "God's word".  And in reality, it's not the word of God, it's their own spin on a somewhat ambiguous scripture.  Unfortunately, it happens that many really terrible things are said and justified because people here are told by someone that they respect that it's "God's word".  
Well, I'd like to remind everyone that no where in any scripture that I've ever read, did it say it's acceptable to make someone feel bad about themselves.  Or to tell someone that they're "sick" or "wrong" or, for a better example, "faggy".  In fact, I think while a lot of us "search for deeper meaning", we forget the basics that were dutifully instilled in each Primary hour: Choose the Right, Treat others how you would like to be treated, LOVE ONE ANOTHER, Compassion is the pure love of Christ.  I honestly can say that no scripture I've ever read, and I have read all of my scriptures, fyi, does it give anyone the right to be a Douche Bag. So don't be.  And don't let your kids, either.  

Fyi....

I'm working on a rant, and it's taking me a while.  By the time I finish it will probably be "old news", but unfortunately, I'm sure will still apply.  I know I've been sucking on posts as of late...but I've had a lot on my plate...like breeding and selling frogs on my iphone Pocket Frogs game, which is so addictive I just might end up neglecting my children, husband, and household duties.  It's like gambling; but interesting.  So I'll post in a few days, hopefully, after I've finished what I need to say. Until then..if any of you play pocket frogs?  Hook me up, Homies.

Stuff Cole's friend says:

(Just so you know, you may want to skip this post.  I'm writing it down for future reference, and to me, it's funny.  But I can see how others would label it as "boring").


So a few days ago we set up a "playdate" for Cole.  Now playdates with new kids are a bit on the tricky side.  First I like to establish some sort of communication with the friend's parent or parents.  With Riley, we've slowly worked up to a passable system.  With Cole, however, we are starting all over again.  This wasn't as obvious to me until recent events occurred.  One day at school Cole's friend gave him his phone number.  And when Cole got home, he asked if he could call him.  The following conversation went like this:


Cole:  (as he's calling his friend), "Mom, the phone is ringing".


Me:  "Okay, well wait until someone says hello..."


Cole:  "Jacob? Jacob?  I need to talk to Jacob".


Me: (Whispering), "Cole, you need to say hello to the person, say who you are, and then ask for Jacob..."


Cole: (Nodding at me),  "I said I need to talk to JACOB!"


Pause


Me:  "Okay when your friend gets on the phone..."


Cole:  "Um, can you come over?"  "I said, CAN.  YOU.  COME.  OVER".


Me: (Whispering), "Cole, you introduce yourself, you say who you are and then..."


Cole:  "This is Cole.  Anderson."


Cole:  "Okay, ask her.  My mom said yes".  '


Me:  "Ask if his mom would like to speak with..."


Cole:  "Okay.  Tomorrow?  Okay.  Bye."


I then asked Cole what was said, and he told me that "Jacob can't come over today." I asked what that part about tomorrow was, and he goes, "oh, he'll just come over tomorrow".  I figured that we'd talk about it after school the next day, I'd get a hold of his mom or dad, and then we'd see what would come out of that.  I let Cole go outside and ride his bike.
The next day I went out to lunch with two friends from Kelvin Grove.  (The place we used to live).  Afterward I went to Walmart because Jeff was out of Fast Break candy bars.  Yeah.  For reals.  As I was checking out of the store, I got a text from Jeff saying, "Did you tell Cole that he could have a friend over?"
Upon calling him back, I found out that when the kids got home from school Riley and Cole and JACOB, came into our house, followed by Jacob's mother, who after following the kids home in her mini van, came by to introduce herself to one of Cole's parents.  Fyi:  this didn't go over well with Jeff.  And he reminded me that I was lucky he had showered and was wearing regular pants, rather than pajamas.  (Note that I was lucky).
So when I got home, I got to meet Jacob.  I was a little worried about what his friend would think of our family...or more precisely, Cole around his family.
But about two seconds after I got home, I found I didn't have to worry.

I brought Jeff's candy bars inside and Cole's grapes and some of my sodas.  Suddenly both boys ran into the kitchen, and Jacob began talking...and just didn't stop.  Until he went home.  So I think they are a match made in a place where kids get along, while driving everyone else that is around them, nutso.  However, there were a few things that I found somewhat humorous.  First things where Jacob's questions.


"Why are all your chairs on the floor?" (Because Sydney climbs on everything).
"Do you have something to eat?" (We have some toast).
"Grapes!!"  (As he's leaning over Jeff, grabbing them and stuffing them in his face),
"I mean, can I have some of those?" (He's pointing to the Sour-Patch Kids on the counter). (Yes).
"Can I have a soda?" (Yes.)
"Does this have sugar in it?"  (Um...nope, Splenda).
"Good because sometimes I get sugar rush.  And go crazy".


After shoving as many Sour Patch Kids as possible in a plastic baggy, he followed Cole down to his room, except two seconds later he came back into the kitchen and asked me, "Do you allow your son to litter in your house?"  I told him no, and asked why he mentioned it.  He goes:  "Well, your son threw that piece of plastic on the floor..."
Cole came around the corner, looking pitiful, and I asked him if he did it.  He said yes, and I told him to go pick it up right then, and that he knew better than to throw stuff on the floor.  As Cole was running the plastic to the garbage can, Jacob said:  "You're a nice mom."  I asked him, "Isn't your mom nice?"  And he goes: "No.  She's really mean".
So Boom.  I am an awesome mom.  I've been telling everyone this, but they just haven't been listening.


And it went on and on, people.  


"Why does your baby keep saying that?"  ("Bob-bob, Bob-bob, Bob-bob")


"Why do you just drink that green soda?"


"Why do you have so much candy? Can I have some more of those?"


"What else do you have to eat?"


Three entire hours of this kid.  Right before his mom came to pick him up, he had grabbed one of my hair clips, squeezed it a couple times, and goes:  "Why is everything in your house so weird?"  I just looked at him, and then asked, "Like what, exactly?"  Jacob goes: "well, my mom has one of these, (a hair clip, go figure), and it's straight.  But this one is...like this."  (Curved).  I conceded that he had a point and told him:  "Well, I guess it's because we are a weird family...and everything we have and do is weird.  The only person in our family that is normal, is Cole".  Jacob looked at me very seriously and said:  "Cole is NOT normal".  And to his credit, Cole chose that moment to pretend he was bashing his head into the hallway wall.  So there wasn't very much room to argue. 


And that was Cole's very first official playdate.  Though it didn't go the way I thought it would, I can't say I'm overly surprised at the events that occurred.  I've always said my Bubbers was "special".  ;)  I guess the biggest relief that I have is that there are kids that are just like him, and now I won't be as worried to let him go over to other people's homes without a lot of explaining, first.  

So things are good here.  I'm assuming somewhat normal, as well...despite my and my family's weirdness.  I'm hoping that you all will have a super week.  And just for funsies, here's a preview of my Bubby's Halloween costume.  (Still in the beginning stages).

Um...because?

Do you ever have a certain hatred toward something or someone just because?  There's really no reason or cause so it means that you're just going on your personal gut feeling.  And so here's a gut feeling of mine:  I hate Justin Beiber.  No, I don't know what he's from or who he is...if he started out on the Disney channel, or if he was just an overnight success...but I hate him.  I hate his bowl cut.  I hate that he sounds like a girl, and I hate that he's loved for a song that really sucks.  Maybe even more songs, but I've only heard one, and it was way more than enough.  I hate that his face is staring at me from every t-shirt in every store in their girl department.  How's that gut feeling for you?  Where does this anger come from?  Any ideas?

Still Kicking

A few personal observations.  


1.  The weather is getting cooler and I'm getting that "rejuvenated" feeling.  Like, you know when you wake up in the middle of the night?  To pee or something?  And then you get back into bed and it's waaaay too hot, and you toss and turn and try to get back to sleep, but it's impossible because you can't get comfortable?  
Well, these past two nights, that HASN'T happened.  It's been cool outside of my covers, and snuggling up and getting comfortable only takes like, eight seconds rather than an eternity.  I've actually gotten some sleep.  And this makes me happy.  


2.  I might be swayed into doing something I swore I never would. 
I'm so embarrassed about this, that I can't bring myself to admit what it is...but just know that I'm aware of my being a hypocrite.  (However, I will say that it is nothing politically related.  And I am still an avid hater of the waste of space that is Glenn Beck). 


3.  I'm pretty sure that my neighbors here are OCD about their yards.  I don't know if this is because they're older, or if this is how they've always been, but mowing twice a week?  And watering every day?  This not only boarders on the absurd, but is also a bit on the wasteful side.  Hands down, they have the best yards I've ever seen; even by people that don't do it themselves, and hire landscapers.  But I think there's a line that must be drawn.  And I start drawing it at the notion of mowing more than once a week.  I have a life, people.  

4.  Number three being said, I'd much rather have OCD neighbors than possible meth producing, dog abusing, dirt-bike adoring neighbors.  Because, despite making me look bad, their yard DOES look a bazillion times better.

5.  My TV shows are starting.  I just watched the first episode of Sons of Anarchy.  And next week It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia will start.  And then Big Bang Theory, and then Fringe, and Dexter, and so on, and so forth.  I really love my life, but I sure do enjoy being a voyeur into other, more chaotic lives that seem to have really pretty and charismatic people in them.  


6.  I'm getting older.  And I'm okay with it.  Which is weird to me, because I can't tell if I've just given up, or made peace.  And whether or not there's a difference.  But I'm kind of liking it.  I just don't want to develop jowls. I had a nightmare about it.  And it was ugly.

7.  I've made more peace with the fact that my baby is more like a pet, rather than a, well, miniature human.  As I would look at kids the same size--well, age, I should say, and see them really try to say actual words and interact with those around them, I worried that something was wrong with Syd.  Now I look at Sydney and how she can act out every action on SpongeBob episodes seconds before they happen, or how she will demand to be picked up for her fifteen minutes of pure snuggling at least three times a day, or run to the fridge as soon as she hears it opening, because she knows that I'll let her have some of the whipped cream from the spray can on the top shelf, and I see how she is playing everyone. 

She knows what she's doing.  She refuses to do anything that sounds remotely dull to her, and should she need something, she just will do something cute...or give you extra love.  It's like having a puppy that doesn't shed or ever have an accident on the carpet.  She'll lick you just because, or she'll stick her head in your crotch, and just stay there.  And for some reason, I let her, because I'm besotted with her cuteness. The only difference between her and having a puppy is that when you get angry with her, she doesn't even pretend to be sorry.  She knows that you're pissed, and she knows that you'll get over it.  Cause look what she can do--she can cover her eyes and then peek out at you and say, "aboo".  Or she can hold your hand and say, "eeee" which is I'm pretty sure is her way of copying Jeff and my saying of "One, Two, Three", that we say right before we swing her between us, as that's her favorite game right now.  She may not be a talker, but she's a thinker.  And for now?  I'm just fine with that.  


8.  My husband keeps surprising me.  I know I say stuff like, "he's my best friend", and "he always figures stuff out and can fix anything", and so on and so forth, but where do his endearing qualities end?  

Lately he's been using some brick that his father gave us, and making our yard extra pretty.  I wish I would have taken some "before" pics, but he just surprised me and did this stuff without telling me he was going to do it.  

I'm always amazed at how much work this yard is...we still have a lot more to do, but we need to pace ourselves.  However, it seems like I've been more willing to pace myself, than Jeff has.  I'd be lying if I said that bugged me. This is just another one of the reasons I love him.  Sometimes he knows just what to do make me extra happy. 


Okay....I need to be getting to bed. I have a feeling that this week will be kind of hard.  But I'll make it through.  I have two beautiful daughters, a handsome son, and my best friend to help me remember the good stuff.  And there's a lot of good stuff to be happy about. 
Especially the not having jowls part.  Just yet, anyway.       

The 411

So I need to say that I'm still really happy.  I mean, despite my last post, I'm grateful for where I am right now--where my family is.  I feel like where Jeff and I are at is what I saw when I imagined us "making it".  Never not having obligations or occasional worries, but being at a place where we can breathe and not have to worry every second.  Being at this point took a while, and it wasn't easy to get here.  But we are, and I wake up realizing how much our little family has, and being so overwhelmed with happiness.  I just wish my dad could have seen where we are now.  Because I know he would have been excited for us.

I've still been having pretty rotten dreams.  Really vivid and disturbing and keeping me from sleeping juuuust enough to make my naturally dark circles under my eyes unnaturally dark and obvious.  Even with makeup.  So yeah, it could be worse, I know.  But all joking aside?  My heart still hurts.  And my heart hurts for my siblings.  And my Stepmom.  
Last year at this time I was what my dad would call "babysitting" him.  Sometimes Teresa would need to go to work-she'd take as much time off as she could-but sometimes she HAD to be there.  So, I'd take advantage of Jeff's work-at-home schedule and go over and just hang out with Dad.  Most of the time he was cognizant, but he was having more and more trouble with eating or drinking anything.  And he needed someone there, just to make sure he didn't choke on something.  He'd get really scared about that.  And I remember thinking about how uncomfortable that was, for me.  How seeing him like that was scary and wrong and despite all the other times I'd see him display scary and wrong behavior, that was the worst.  It was pretty selfish of me.  But I know he appreciated me being there, and I appreciated the time I had with him, even though he was so embarrassed about me seeing what I saw.  I wish I would have known how sick he was at that point, because he had still been keeping a lot of what he was feeling from me.  And Teresa had thought that he'd shared a lot more than he did.  It was very soon after that everything just sort of came all at once.
I have so many vivid memories of my dad.  And as I type some of them out, I get teary-eyed, because my life turned out how he said it would.  I was a melancholy kid...surprise, right?  And that was hard for him to see.  But he had patience with me.  I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but I remember lying on my bed, wondering why life hated me, and he'd knock and come sit by me.  He'd ask me what it was, and I didn't even know where to begin.  Why was I so unhappy?  Why did I feel so disconnected?  When would it end?  
I guess only now do I understand why he'd look so heartbroken while I lay there.  At the time, I wondered why he looked sad, when I was the one that was in anguish.  And yeah, I realize that's a strong word to be using, but, remember what high school was like?  Like, when you were having a bad day it was nothing less than wretched.  Everything was at least 50% more...just more.  I think about the possibility of me in that situation with one of my kids.  My heart would just ache for them.      I remember he'd tell me that one day he knew I'd find someone that would see how great I was, (that he thought I was), and that all the unhappiness I was having at that time would seem far away. My main comfort was when he'd tell me, "This too, shall pass".  Then he'd say that nothing lasts forever and we have to try to appreciate all that we have.  At the time, that last part didn't sound nearly as helpful.  
Dad honestly tried to understand me.  As confusing and futile as it was, he tried.  And I will always love him for that.  
This past weekend was kind of nice.  I got a lot more caught up on sleep than I've been in a long time.  And things seem to be looking up.  The problem with me and not enough sleep is not only the lack of sleep, but also the fact that things just seem more dreary.  And I feel weepy and mopey.  But I'm not so deprived anymore, and now I feel a bit more refreshed and grounded.
This brings me to my family.  Moriah commented on my last post that maybe this missing my father and seeing Teresa being lonely would make me appreciate Jeff more.  And honestly, it does.  I've had a couple dreams in which Jeff isn't my husband.  Or he's gone.  Or I never knew him.  And I wake up so grateful that it was just a dream.  Or nightmare, I guess.  I do know I couldn't be without him, and I take a few minutes to say a quick prayer that I won't ever have to be.  
The same with my daughters and my son.  I've just gotten way too attached to them, you know?  Call me sentimental.  
Despite all this month reminds me of, I am taking something that Dad said to heart.  Nothing lasts forever.  This too, shall pass.  I need to be grateful for all that I've been blessed with...and I've really been blessed with a lot.  Have a good week, everyone.  And take time to tell those you love, that you love them.  Because it's never a bad thing to hear.