Writing Club

G and I are starting a writing club. Yesterday's post was our first challenge. It was fun...if a bit depressing. I'm supposed to come up with the next challenge as she put forth the first one. If you're interested in joining the writing club, just let me know. Right now, I have to finish a project I started yesterday, so as brief and uninteresting as this post may be, I'm going to cut it short and actually get some work done. Happy Halloween, everybody! TTFN JMS

Literary Challenge

My friend G challenged me to write a short, short story. The parameters were that I had to use Earnest Hemingway's one-line short story "For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn." It had to be no longer than 3 or 4 pages. Here is the result. Warning - It's horribly depressing. G cried. ****** For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn. Call 555-0212. I saw the one-line advertisement in the classifieds one week ago and have not been able to stop thinking about it. Who placed the ad? What could have prompted such a depressing thing; to sell unworn baby shoes? There had to be a story behind it and I was determined to find out. Sleuthing, after all, is what I do. I’m a journalist – and a damned good one, if I do say so myself. I could not, in good conscience, write about this without going through the motions – at least making an attempt at finding out the truth behind the words. Therefore, in my mind, the most logical place to start was at my office; a run-down concrete dump in the middle of the historic downtown district of a city in dire need of a face lift. The department I needed was a conglomeration of classifieds, engagement/wedding announcements, obituaries and other local crap I was usually not the least bit interested in. (Who knows why I even read the classified section this morning over my quickly cooling cup of dark roast?) I called Marilyn the second after I dumped my purse in the bottom drawer of my fourth-hand desk and explained what I was looking for. She told me to come down in twenty minutes, after the daily department meeting was over, and she’d see what she could do. Nineteen minutes and thirty nine seconds later found me waiting, impatiently, at Marilyn’s desk. She was a hulk of a woman, who, in her late-fifties, still presented an intimidating figure to those who didn’t know her. I really didn’t know her, but I knew her well enough to feel comfortable, if irritated, waiting for her to return from her all-important (God, what could they possibly have to discuss for twenty minutes every single morning?) meeting. Five minutes and sixteen seconds later, Marilyn’s imposing figure came through the doorway across room and made its way cautiously through the narrow gaps between the cubicles. “You’re late,” I called to her as she approached, looking sour. “You were early,” she responded, sounding sour. “21 seconds early, to be exact. Are we going to nitpick today?” I asked, flashing a grin which instantly made the sour look on her face dissolve. “Nope. What brings you to the bowels of Hell? You’ve got a window, dearie, I can’t fathom a reason for you to be slumming down here.” Marilyn said in an almost friendly way. In answer, I simply handed her the cut out advertisement from last week’s classifieds. “You expect me to remember every damn ad that comes across my desk? With all the work I do around here, they’re lucky I can keep things straight for the daily pub – forget the weekly shit,” she said, interspersing her brusque response with job lingo. “Sorry,” I responded, not looking or sounding the least bit remorseful. “You know I would never ask unless I thought I could get something good out of it.” I grinned at her again. “Well, as it happens, I do remember this guy. Yes, it was a guy – don’t look at me that way,” she added, when I’d raised an eyebrow at her. “He called late in the game – it was just hours before press time. We’d already done the layout and submitted everything for final proof – that’s why I remember him. He was so adamant that he make that day’s pub. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He even offered to pay triple what the ad would cost and suggested there might be something in it for me if I could push it through on time. Can you believe that shit?” “What did he say? Did he give you a reason? Anything that might clue you in to why he’s selling the shoes?” I queried, in full reporter mode now. “Whoa! Easy girl! What’s with the third degree? No, he didn’t really say anything – he just made it clear that he expected to see the advertisement in the paper the following day and sounded very nearly like he was threatening me. I don’t do that shit, usually, but something about this guy...the sound of his voice, the desperation behind it. Well, I pushed it through, obviously. What a pain in the ass that was. Do you even know what it takes to completely rearrange proof that close to press? What was that, last Wednesday’s paper?” “Yep. I just happened to see it and haven’t been able to get it out of my head. I’m hoping that if I can talk to the guy that he’ll be able to shed some light on the subject,” I responded. “Hang on – let me see here. I haven’t filed crap in a week or so, so the order’s got to be around here somewhere,” she said, shuffling papers around on her overflowing desk. I positioned myself on one corner of her desk and waited, drumming my fingers on my knee while Marilyn searched. “I hate filing. Find things better if they’re on my desk. It’s an organized mess, you know. Ah...here it is!” She said triumphantly, holding aloft one small sheet of pink paper in her overlarge hand. “Ed. His name was Ed. He wouldn’t give his last name. Paid with someone else’s credit card – a Julian Moore?” It sounded like a question. “He simply told me what he wanted, gave me the credit card info (what do I care if it’s not his card?), made his threat, and hung up. Didn’t even thank me or nothing! Jerk.” “Can I make a copy of this?” I asked, taking the undersized pink sheet out of her hand. “Sure thing. I need the original back, though. You know, for when I eventually get around to filing all this shit,” she waved her hand dismissively over her desk to indicate all the papers there. ********** Later that day, I was at my desk staring at the copy of the classified slip I’d gotten from Marilyn. I still had last Wednesday’s copy of the paper on my desk and absently began flipping through it again. What if I’d missed something? Maybe there was some other clue; something that would get me closer to my answer of the shoes. (Why was I even curious?) The credit card had turned out to be a local attorney. He was unhelpful – flatly refusing to speak to me when I asked him if he knew anything about someone named Ed and a pair of baby shoes. He’d stated, “That’s Attorney/Client privilege,” And hung up the phone. I’d called back three times, only to be stymied by a bitchy receptionist. (Mark them off my list of people to use in case of emergencies!) I’d asked my friend at the police station to trace the number in the advertisement, only to be told it was from a pay-as-you-go cell phone and that no other calls had been made to or from that number. Another dead end. As I paged through the paper, I happened upon an obituary that caught my eye.

Madeline Elizabeth Underhill (34) left this life yesterday, October 23 at 2:34 PM; her family by her side. She leaves behind her husband of twelve years, Edward Ellison Underhill. Her parents, Michael and Ella Jamison and two sisters, Mindy & Eileen Jamison, all of Crossville. Funeral services will be held on Friday, October 25 at Crossville Memorial Funeral Home at 7PM. Interment will be Saturday, October 26th at 10AM Rose Foster Gardens. In lieu of flowers, gifts can be made to your local chapter of M.A.D.D.

“Hmmm...” I thought. “That was somewhat interesting.” I pulled out Thursday’s paper and turned to the Obituary section. I nearly fell off my chair in shock as I read:

Edward Ellison Underhill (36) passed away yesterday, October 24th. Preceding him in death was his wife of 12 years, Madeline Elizabeth Underhill and their unborn daughter. The family of Mr. Underhill will receive friends at Crossville Memorial Funeral Home on Saturday, October 26th at 5:30 PM, funeral to follow at 7PM. Burial will be on Sunday, October 27th at 10AM at Rose Foster Gardens. He will be laid to rest beside his wife and their daughter. In lieu of flowers, gifts can be made to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

On the Planet of Wednesday

Heh. I heard that (the post title) on talk radio this morning from the weather guy - of all people. I thought it was funny and, though it doesn't really describe anything about this post - I considered it a perfect title for one of my random blog attempts. Bear with me, OK? Yesterday (Tuesday) started out just fine, but by the time the afternoon rolled around, the salad I'd eaten for lunch had begun to seriously irritate my innards. I was sick. Oh, man - was I sick. I won't give you any gross visuals to carry with you throughout the rest of your day, but suffice it to say that I went home early. Well, only 15 minutes early. I don't remember the drive home. I was in such pain and so completely exhausted from fighting against trying to be ill that I've mentally pushed the drive into temporary amnesia. (Does that make sense?) I walked into the house, put my stuff down, and said to Hubby, "I'm going to lie down for 30 minutes." Then I took my fully-clothed self into the bedroom and was asleep before I even hit the pillow. I was completely unaware for exactly 30 minutes until Hubby brought Little Bit into the room and she squealed her excitement at seeing me there - which, of course, woke me up. I dragged my sorry backside out of the warm comfort of my bed and Hubby left for work. I made a valiant attempt at a balanced meal for the kids. Hot dogs wrapped in Pillsbury crescent rolls with cheese, green beans (from a can) and mandarin oranges (from a can). They both ate very well and didn't give me any trouble. Little Bit picked all the crescent roll from the hot dog and ate only the hot dog, but she went to town on the green beans and the oranges. Kiddo ate all of his hot dog and crescent roll, beans and oranges and then ate some of Hubby's when he got home, too. After Dora the Explorer and Go Diego Go, both kids went to bed with little to no trouble. Then, I popped The Princess Bride into the DVD player in the bedroom and was asleep before Buttercup was "kidnapped" by Vizzini and his henchmen. This was approximately 8:30PM. I don't remember anything else until Hubby shook me awake at 6:30 this morning. Oh - and it's frikkin' cold this morning. I'm going to have to switch cars with Hubby again and drive the Taurus to work again during the cold months. I would hate for the kids (and Hubby, too, of course) to be riding around in an unheated car; we still haven't gotten the heat fixed on it. Well, I guess that's all for now. We've got Trunk or Treat at church tonight, so the kids get to dress up and have some fun. I hope I'm happier about it this year than I was last year. Of course, my happiness is not the issue here - it's the kids' happiness. TTFN JMS

Kiddo & Little Bit Pictures

Kiddo & Little Bit at the Pumpkin Patch in Corryton, TN (above)

Kiddo & Little Bit with the kitties at Grandma's (Nani's) house (above)

Kiddo & Little Bit in front of Perkin's Restaurant in Dandridge, TN (above) Thought I'd share... TTFN JMS

Winnie-The-Pooh and The Secret Life of Bees

I've been overruled. Yes - the all-important decision of "what is Little Bit going to be for Halloween" has been taken, firmly and swiftly, out of my hands. I borrowed an adorable pumpkin costume from my friend "FuzzFix" and was all ready to get Little Bit excited to wear it. Last weekend, however, my sister-in-law gave me several costumes her now 16 year old son wore when he was Little Bit's age and then some. Included among these wonderful costumes was a Winnie-The-Pooh outfit. I put it on her yesterday so she could play in it for a while. She looked so darn cute that the pumpkin went right out of my head. Out of Hubby's head, too. In fact, his comment to me was, "I like Pooh better than the pumpkin!" And damn if he wasn't right. Little Bit will be too big to wear Pooh next year, so she is now going to be Winnie-The-Pooh for Halloween this year. She will still be able to wear the pumpkin costume next year, so I'll return it to "FuzzFix" and borrow it again another time. Little Bit was so cute running around with big, yellow ears and a red t-shirt. I can't wait to get pictures of her to post here. Good thing Trunk-or-Treat at church is this Wednesday because I'm not sure I can wait until Friday. On another note, I saw "The Secret Life of Bees" last night with my friend DS. Honestly, I have to admit that I'm surprised I enjoyed the movie. I read the book and enjoyed it quite a lot, and I think that, apart from a few things, the movie stayed pretty true to the book. That was unexpected. Also, they've got Queen Latifah playing one of the main characters, and though she did a great job, they should have found someone older to play her part. Either that or they should have aged her a bit. Also, her sisters should have been older, too. In the book, you get the impression that the sisters are in their late fifties or early sixties - in the movie, they're maybe in their late thirties, early forties. It doesn't fit. Dakota Fanning, of course, did a fantastic job - as she always does. She's got darker hair in this movie, and is quite a bit taller and thinner than I've seen her before - but that's because she's growing up. I guess you can't be an adorable blond prodigy your entire life, right? I kind of think of her as the Shirley Temple of the times. Does that make sense? I guess that's all I've got right now. I'm sure I could find many, many more things to write about, but I'm done. I need to go seek out caffeine somewhere... TTFN JMS

I'm sentimental today

My friend G, at work, lost a very good friend to Melanoma last night. She chatted with me about her friend "Hal" for a while this morning, telling me about what a wonderful person she was and how she just couldn't believe that she was gone. The reality of her death has not set in yet. Can I just say, here and now, that I know exactly how that feels? G is probably talking to one of the few people she knows that can truly understand and sympathize with how she's feeling right now. Granted, I have not lost a friend to Cancer, but I have lost beloved family members to the horrible disease. I know what it means to fight it, tooth and nail, every day. I've seen it. G posted a quote on her blog that I thought I would share - mainly because it speaks to me in so many ways.

People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad. ~Marcel Proust

Here's to you, G. May you always remember "Hal" fondly - as she was when she was healthy and happy and sporting the most beautiful smile on the planet. TTFN JMS

A Visit from The Sleep Monster

I finally got some sleep last night. Of course, it was through the over-the-counter wonders of pharmaceuticals, namely Tylenol PM. As my friend, the future Mrs. Myrick says, "I'm all for better living through chemistry!" Legal chemistry, of course. The only problem with my brilliant idea of drugging myself before bedtime is that now I am suffering the after-effects of said medication. Instead of needing to prop my eyelids open with toothpicks because I'm tired (which, of course, I still am) I am fighting the almost overwhelming urge to fall asleep at my desk in a puddle of drool. Now I remember why I never take that stuff. I wonder if, now that my family is back with me, I could have fallen asleep with out assistance? But, considering how exhausted I was, I wasn't taking any chances on going a fourth night with little to no sleep. I do remember getting in to bed last night and opening Brisinger (the new Christopher Paolini book - and the third in the Inheritance Cycle series about Eragon the Dragon Rider) but after reading exactly two words, I closed the book, placed it on my bedside table, snapped off the light and snuggled down under the covers. I was probably taken by sleep almost immediately, because I don't remember hearing or knowing anything until Hubby shook me awake around 6:30 this morning. It was the deep, dreamless sleep of the hopelessly exhausted and drugged. Now, though, I'm a complete zombie. My friend "Tennswede" at the office laughed at me this morning because of how pathetic I look. Frankly, I don't blame him. I do look pathetic. Pale, puffy, narrow-eyed and pathetic. I definitely didn't take offense at his laughter because he's absolutely right... I probably shouldn't even be here right now. I should have called in and stayed at home in bed. I'm feeling a bit better now, though. Probably because I'm working on my third cup of coffee. Maybe I've been "awake" (I use that term loosely) long enough that the effects of my OTC Meds are beginning to wear off? Whatever. I still should have stayed home in bed. On a different note, the dog seems to be doing OK. She was very happy to have the rest of her family at home and even ate some of her food and drank half a bowl of water. My friend SW gave me her expert advice on what might possibly be wrong with the dog - up to and including a possible bladder infection and/or blockage of some kind - but now I wonder if she wasn't just upset about her favorite people (namely Hubby & Kiddo) being gone for an extended period of time. Little Bit and I are probably last on the dog's "favorite people" list - though she'll take us in the absence of anyone better. Lord, please grant me the strength to get me through this day. TTFN JMS

Do I have Insomnia?

I'm picking up my family this afternoon - YAY! I have to drive an hour and a half to get to where I'm going, but at least I don't have to drive three and a half hours as I would if I were going all the way to GM's house in VA. They're meeting me half-way at a Perkin's restaurant in Dandridge, TN. I'm very, very excited about having them back. I've missed them terribly. Though the quiet time at home has been nice, it has also been very busy, and also very frustrating. I'm still not sleeping well; I think I got maybe 4 hours in last night. I was still up and going strong at 11:30 PM. It was about 12:30 AM when I finally decided I'd had enough, gave up the ghost and crawled in to bed. I tried to concentrate on the fingers of my right hand, attempting to make them "go away". This has worked for me in the past, kind of like counting sheep or relaxing each part of your body in turn. It did nothing this time. My mind was distracted with thoughts of nothing in particular. I couldn't grab on to one single thought. I figured that if I could concentrate on just one thing that my mind would eventually shut down from boredom. This continued until nearly 2AM. I eventually succumbed, but I'm honestly not sure what time it was. I'd given up watching the clock because it did nothing except serve to frustrate me. Minutes were like hours. My alarm went off this morning and, though I must have hit the snooze button, I don't really remember doing so, and it was 6:30 AM before I dragged my tired butt out of bed. I have to leave my house at 7AM to get to work on time. Then, about thirty seconds away from my house, I remembered that I had a car full of stuff my sister-in-law had given us for Kiddo. I couldn't exactly keep going because when I pick up my family this afternoon they're going to have a bunch of stuff that needs to be brought back with them. With a trunk full of stuff, there was no room to add anything else. So I had to turn around, go back to the house, unload all the crap from my car, and then head to work again. I had intended to get all the stuff out of my car last night, but I forgot. I got busy cleaning Kiddo's and Little Bit's rooms. So I guess that's it. I'm hoping I'll sleep better once my family is home. Right now, I'm doing everything I can to stay awake - short of tracking down a couple of toothpicks to prop my eyelids open with. Oh - and I think our dog is sick. TTFN JMS

Not sleeping well

I thought that with my family being gone that the quiet would be so restful I would want to spend most of my alone time asleep. Well, though I have wanted to, I have not been able to. I think in the last two nights I've gotten maybe 6 hours of sleep. I don't know what it is. Last night I watched a really bad movie (Sweeney Todd) and, though I was tired, it was kind of like seeing a train wreck - I couldn't stop looking. I had hoped that it would put me to sleep, but it did not. I tossed and turned and couldn't get comfortable. My legs felt goofy, like they were about to jump out of their skin, and so I spent almost 2 hours laying in bed, thrashing around like a fish out of water. At around 1AM, I must have just succumbed to my exhaustion because the next thing I knew, it was 2AM and the dog was waking me up to go outside. She NEVER does this, so I thought she wasn't feeling well and immediately got up and took her out. She peed, did her happy dance, and then came right back inside. The deed done, she went back into Kiddo's room and promptly fell asleep again. I could not. Finally, around 5:30 AM (when I should be getting up) I fell asleep again. This was stupid. I should have just gotten out of bed, showered, and headed to work but exhaustion overwhelmed me and I was deeply asleep for about an hour and a half. If my alarm went off before 7AM, I didn't hear it, nor do I remember hitting the snooze button. But at 7AM I woke up and realized, "Oh! I should be leaving for work right now and I'm not even dressed!" I called and left a message for my boss, "Hey, it's me. I'm running late. I just woke up! I'll be there as soon as I can!" Of course, I was there before he was anyway, so it didn't really make any difference. Now I just have to struggle to stay awake and get through my day. Then I can go home. I'm not watching TV. I'm not going to do anything other than make Kiddo's bed (I washed his sheets and blankets yesterday). I'm going to make sure the dog has completely emptied her bladder, and has the appropriate amount of food and water. Then I'm going to crash. If I don't answer the phone, I'm not actually dead, just dead to the world! TTFN JMS

I'm all alone!

My family has temporarily abandoned me. I feel very alone. Of course, I've still got the dog for company - but it's not the same as hearing my kids squeal with delight when I walk in the door after 9 hours at work. Hubby took Kiddo and Little Bit up to his mother's house in Virginia for a few days. The kids are on Fall Break from school, so Hubby, understandably, wanted to spend some quality time with his mother (GM). This meant he had to bring the kids with him - not that his mother minds. I'm absolutely positive that she's thrilled to have her grandchildren there to spoil. GM has 6 cats (1 adult, 2 teenagers, and 3 kittens) and 2 dogs. The kids are, from what I hear, having a blast with the kittens. (I can only hope that Hubby will see fit to relieve her of one of them, but I know that's not going to happen.) The kittens aren't used to kids and therefore Little Bit, at least, has taken to chasing them around. I'm positive one of them will turn on her before she leaves GM's house on Wednesday. Her first kitty scratch - such a badge of honor. The whole family went up to upper East TN on Saturday so that I could attend my niece's baby shower. I had a wonderful time and, though she was visibly exhausted by the time the party was over, I think she had a good time. She got lots and lots of wonderful stuff! (I posted a couple of pictures of the diaper cake I made for her at the end...she's seen it now, so I can share it without ruining the surprise!) I tried to help out where I could, but other than becoming the official party photographer, there really wasn't much to do. Her mother and aunt had pretty much gotten everything under control by the time GM and I arrived. It was a very lovely party. Then Hubby and the kids put everything in GM's car and they headed up to VA and I took the dog and headed back home. Sunday was a wash. Really - I mean that. I spent the entire day doing laundry. I turned the TV on to a station that was playing decent movies all day and in between laundry cycles, I vegged out on the couch. But, I did manage to get all of the laundry caught up, folded and put away - so it's not like I was completely useless. Of course, I woke up at 7AM yesterday and could not, for the life of me, get back to sleep. So I figured rather than be totally lazy and lounge around in bed hoping that sleep would overtake me again, I got up and started the laundry. When I get home tonight, I am going to clean both kid's rooms. They're messy. I'm going to change the sheets (more laundry...ugh...) and put away the toys. Then run the vacuum over the tiny carpets and under the beds. I'm fighting the Dust Rhinoceri (bigger and more vicious than Dust Bunnies) and a lack of places to put all the damn toys. But I'm sure I can figure it out. My goal is to have the entire house sparkling clean by the time I pick the family up on Wednesday afternoon. Do you think I can do it? Or, will my essential laziness take over and prevent me from accomplishing my goals? Only time will tell! TTFN JMS

Ah...back to Craig's List I go

What is it with me and random, stupid accidents? Now, before you panic and think something happened to me, it did...sort of...but indirectly. And no BODY was hurt. I have been searching Craig's List for curtains for our bedroom for about a month now. Kind of on a mission to do something, anything, with our room rather than leave it like it is. My HGTV sensibility is being overwhelmed and I need to help not only the room, but myself. So I found a set of curtains (for 2 windows) that I really liked and made arrangements with the owner to come get and pay for them. Today (Wednesday) I called the woman at her office and said, "I'm on my way! I'll be there in about 10 minutes!" She was thrilled and said she'd go out to her car and get them so they would be ready when I got there. So, in the 10 minutes it took me to get from my office to hers, she'd gotten the curtains out of her car, brought them into her office, draped them over the copier to keep them out of the way (she works in a dental office...) and one edge of one of the drapes got caught in the automatic paper shredder. Needless to say, I did not wind up buying the curtains from her. Although, I am extremely disappointed (because they were gorgeous, and hand-made, and came with the rods) I understand completely how these things happen. Still sucks, though! Thought I'd share. TTFN JMS

Out of the mouths of babes

I had to post this lest I forget it. On Tuesday night, I got home from work and immediately went into Kiddo's room to hang out with him for a while and talk about our days. I plopped my still-work-dressed self down onto his bed, got comfortable, and we began chatting about various subjects appropriate to a 4-year-old. He was playing with his Matchbox cars. He'd set up a really great ramp and track and was showing me how each one of his hundreds of cars went down the track. Which one was faster; which one veered off the track; which one didn't work at all, etc... After a little while, he brought over the old model of a 1909 Opal and asked me how old the car was. Usually, Matchbox cars (and Hot Wheels) have a date stamped on the bottom of the car to indicate the year it was made. After examining this car for a minute, I said, "Well, bud...it doesn't have a date on the bottom, but I would guess it was probably made back in the 1970's." (I was pretty sure he wouldn't really understand the time-reference.) With a serious face, he said, "Oh, back in the olden days?" I suppressed a smile and said, "Yes. I guess so. Except, you know that Mommy was born in 1973, right?" He looked at me, wide-eyed, and said, "Where was I?" "You weren't even a thought at that time, bud. I was a baby then," I said to him. "But I could feel you!" he exclaimed, looking a little wistful. "You could feel me?" I asked, a little confused. He says, "Yes, I could feel you in my heart." Wow. The things that come out of his mouth sometimes surprise me. Well, they almost always surprise me. I had to struggle not to cry because it was so sweet, and I told him that was probably the nicest thing I'd ever heard. He immediately launched himself onto the bed, draped himself across me, and hugged me as tightly as he could. Then, he pushed away, gave me a quick peck on the cheek and said, "I love you, Mom." Sigh. TTFN JMS

Yes - I got dressed in the dark...

...what's it to you? I am typing this on Tuesday but won't post it until Wednesday because I didn't want to send any more "Blog Updated" emails to you than absolutely necessary! I woke up this morning, got ready for work, and decided to wear a pair of regular shoes today. I have a pair of nice, low-heeled, loafer-type shoes that are well worn in and comfortable. I figured they would be a good segue from the sneakers I've been wearing since The Foot Incident. I have two pairs of these shoes. One is black, black, black, and the other is brown, brown, brown. (The triple wording is simply to describe how dark the blacks and browns are - they're hard to tell apart....you see where I'm going with this?) I felt around in the shoe bin under my bed and found one pair, brought them into the bathroom, closed the door, flipped the light on, and determined that the pair I was holding was brown. I wanted black. Back to the bin under the bed, I located the other pair, and, not bothering with the whole charade of the bathroom color inspection, I put them on and left the house about three minutes later. I had been at work for almost an hour, when my friend K who works up in IT came down and we began talking about the phone manual she'd left on a new employee's desk. I was facing her. Her back was toward my window. The light hit my shoes and I saw something that caught my eye. The color was wrong. I examined my feet more closely and was horrified to discover that I was wearing one black shoe on my left foot and one brown shoe on my right foot. Same shoe...same style...different color. I must have looked as horrified as I felt, because K asked, "What's the matter? Are you OK?" Much to my embarrassment, she noticed almost right away exactly what the matter was and began to laugh. It almost ticked me off, until she said, "Ha! I've done something like that, too!" So laugh it up. Go ahead. I can take it. At least I have some comfort knowing that I am not the only one who can make a royal fashion mistake when she gets dressed in the dark! TTFN JMS PS: Shoulda stuck with the sneakers. For more reasons than I can count! I should take advantage of the perk of being able to wear sneakers to work, when they would otherwise be against dress-code policy, for as long as I can!

Grouchy Children, Grouchy Parents

Sigh. The kids were both quite difficult last night. Hubby and I were at a loss as to what to do with them, so we did the best we could with what we had. Kiddo flatly refused to eat; he wanted to play. We told him he had two options: A) eat his dinner and get to hang out with us in the living room, or B) not eat and go to his room where he could play until bedtime, but he was not going to be allowed to ask for anything else until the next day. He chose option B. Of course we would never actually not feed him. He played quietly in his room for nearly 2 hours. When it was 8PM, he decided he was hungry, so we let him have his dinner and then ushered him off to bed by 8:30PM. He complained a little, but otherwise washed his hands and brushed his teeth without issue. Little Bit ate some, but then decided her food was better off on the floor. She started off just tossing small bits and pieces of her dinner over the side of her high-chair, but then decided her entire plate should be upside-down on the hardwood. She picked her plate up, and with a gleam in her eye and a wicked 19-month-old grin (you know, the one that says, "I'm getting ready to do something I know you're not going to be happy with but I'm going to do it anyway...") held it out in mid-air. I'm lucky I was paying attention because I caught the plate full of food just as she dropped it. Well, you would have thought that I was trying to kill her with the way she screamed when I intercepted her plate-dropping fun. She squirmed and strained and hollered to be set free of the confines of her chair and was even more irritated when I refused to let her down. I tried, in vain, to get her to eat more, but it was over. It was also only 6:30PM at this point. I decided, since she was being so difficult, I would make a valiant attempt to put her to bed early. She seemed like she could really use the sleep; she was acting very tired. I asked her, "Would you like to go to bed now?" She responded with a whimpering, "Yesh." I released her from her "prison" and she virtually leaped into my arms, snuggled her little wet face in the crook of my neck, tossed her arms over my shoulders and squeezed. (Ah...how can I resist the strength of a baby's hug?) I squeezed back, patted her backside gently and said, "Bedtime, sweetie." She didn't argue. In fact, she didn't really argue at all, even when she realized I intended to abandon her in her bed for the evening. She fell asleep rather quickly, woke up once around 10PM, and then was asleep for the rest of the night. (I assume she was asleep for the rest of the night, only because if she did wake up, I certainly didn't hear her.) So both kids, I think, were just over-tired. That, and they're both struggling to fight a cold or something. Today is picture day at school. I labored for an hour or more last night trying to find the perfect outfits for Little Bit and Kiddo. I hope, when their turn in front of the camera comes, that they'll be as adorable as I intended them to be. I guess that's all. TTFN JMS

Pretty typical weekend...and sick babies

Ah, the weekend. A time when one gets to wind down from, and then prepare again for, the work week. Two days is never long enough. There are kids to entertain and feed and clean and change and generally keep happy and healthy, laundry to do (my never-ending cycle...once it's done, I just have to start all over again), food to acquire, fix and serve, and projects to work on. We're just going to assume that the laundry was in progress all frikkin' weekend, OK? Then I don't have to mention it again...although I probably will, knowing me. Saturday, Kiddo, Little Bit and I went to IHOP for breakfast. Kiddo suggested we go there, so we went. (I'm a sucker for kids who want eggs and pancakes, what can I say?) The experience was actually decent! There was no screaming or arguing and both kids ate very well. The only mishap occurred when Little Bit purposefully dribbled orange juice down the front of her shirt, looked at me and said, "Mess!" Of course, there wasn't much I could do at that point except whip out the baby wipes and make a half-hearted attempt at cleaning her up. She really didn't think much of it and seemed satisfied with my work so she continued stabbing at her eggs with her spoon. She's getting much better at feeding herself. That hand-eye coordination thing is starting to come... Then we went over to Babies-R-Us to look for some Boudreaux's Butt Paste for a "diaper cake" I was working on...but...if you can believe it...they were completely out! I never thought Babies-R-Us would be out of Butt Paste! I could have gotten something else, because they had many other brands to choose from, but the person for whom I made the "cake" specifically wanted the Butt Paste...so who am I to try to change her mind. Not only that, but we use it, too, and it is the best stuff. Then we headed back home. On the way, we called Hubby to find out if he was done working for the morning. He was, and he said he was going to head over to Downtown Hardware to partake of the hot dogs they were serving in celebration of their 53rd anniversary in business. We met him there and hung out for about 30 minutes while he checked on the status of his broken lawn mower, got a couple of keys made, and had a hot dog. Then I took the kids home and they both went down for a nap. They both actually slept, too, which gave me some quiet time to work on my weekend project - the "Diaper Cake." The Diaper Cake was a lot of work, but well worth it. I'm very pleased with the way it came out. I won't post a picture of it here, just in case the person for whom it's meant happens to look at my blog. I don't want to ruin all of the surprise! But if you don't know what a Diaper Cake is, CLICK HERE for edification purposes. It was a lot of fun. I don't really remember what we did on Saturday evening. I know that Hubby and I watched You Don't Mess With The Zohan after the kids went to bed. Interesting movie. Almost funny. Slightly embarrassing in parts. But it was Adam Sandler so I couldn't resist. Sunday was an early day because I had to teach Sunday School and I hadn't prepared and I didn't know where my leader's guide was. This brought me to the church at 9AM to locate my leader's guide, plan the lesson, make the necessary copies and preparations, and be ready for Sunday School by 10AM. Somehow, I managed. The kids were as unruly as ever, and no one really wanted to pay attention to the lesson I slaved over for an hour. I couldn't exactly yell at them, but neither did I just let them do whatever they wanted. It was a tall order to keep them all under control - and there were 9 of them all between the ages of 5 & 7. Then church from 11-12:15. Our pastor announced that he's having bypass surgery on Thursday, 10/16 (my birthday). He'll be out until sometime in November or until his wife determines that he's well enough to come back...whichever comes first. Please keep him in your prayers for us - we're all very worried about him. He also mentioned Chinese food, so of course I had to have Chinese food after church. I took Little Bit home, who was supremely unhappy because she was tired and, I believe, beginning to not feel well. She went down for a long nap and I did laundry. (I said I was probably going to mention it again, didn't I?) Hubby and Kiddo ran errands so they didn't get home until shortly after LB woke up from her nap. Then the serious cleaning began. I really don't know what Hubby did in the kitchen, but he was busy for hours cleaning, scrubbing and organizing. While he was doing that, I folded and washed and picked up and cleaned. It was a productive afternoon. We had tacos for dinner (do you really care?) and then had just a regular, quiet evening. LB threw up around 1AM and cried pitifully. I came and got her, cleaned her up as best I could without actually dumping her in the bathtub, changed her sheets, got her some water, and put her back in bed. She fussed for a few minutes, but was otherwise quiet and slept the rest of the night. Hubby says she's doing fine this morning - but I worry. Is she getting sick? Is her little system rebelling because she had unusual foods on Sunday? Remember, she ate both Chinese food and Tacos. She's so used to our standard fare of chicken, pork & fish, along with beans, corn or carrots, some fruit, and a few other relatively bland foods...I'm pretty sure she just had trouble digesting all the strange things she'd eaten that day. Anyway - now that you've had a rundown of our ENTIRE weekend, I'll quit. If I keep going, I'm sure I'm going to lose you all...if I haven't already. Hope everyone had a wonderful weekend! TTFN JMS

Halloween Excitement

I'm excited about Halloween this year. OK...I know it's still 21 days away, but I wish it was tomorrow. Kiddo and I went out, just the two of us, on Monday night this week to look for his costume. Initially, he said he wanted to be an Army guy - you know, with the camouflage and boots and helmet - but when we got to our retail destination, and he laid eyes on the muscled Spiderman costume, it was all over. So Kiddo is going to be Spiderman for Halloween. I'm going to see if I can borrow the pumpkin costume my friend "FuzzFix" has that her son wore a couple years ago for Little Bit. I know it fits her because she's already tried it on and it's very cute. Plus, since I spent a bit more than I had intended to on Kiddo's costume, I can't bring myself to spend more on another costume for Little Bit when I am 99% sure I can borrow one that will work just fine. I am going to be a vampire. Heh...big surprise. I would be a vampire every year if I could. I guess it won't surprise anyone to hear that I'm going to be one of the vamps from the "Twilight" series...? That's all I'm going to say right now, though. 21 days and counting...can I make it until then? Is it strange to be nearly 35 years old and excited about Halloween? Excited for my own purposes, rather than my kids? Of course, I AM excited about the kids dressing up, but I get to dress up at work and pretend to be something and someone that I'm not for 8 hours! Ah...good grief. Will I ever grow up? TTFN JMS

"What in the name of potatoes?"

The above quote is from a cartoon farmer who was questioning what was happening in his barnyard in the middle of the night...I thought it was appropriate to this post because, really, I'm not sure what's going on here. A run-down of last night: Little Bit and Kiddo played in LB's room quietly and happily for almost 40 minutes while I cleaned, separated laundry and generally fussed around the house and Hubby made dinner. They Might Be Giants album Flood playing jauntily in the background, both kids would occasionally stop what they were doing to dance disjointedly in the ways of the very young and uncoordinated. This was, what I now refer to as, "The Calm Before The Storm." Kiddo spent a good 10 minutes helping me sort laundry. He was so excited to be able to help and I was very happy to have the help. He was my little runner. I'd pick up a piece of laundry and say, "Daddy's pile!" or "[Kiddo's] pile!" and he'd duck around the corner into the hallway to deposit said article of clothing on the appropriate pile. He even said to Hubby, "Daddy! Watch me! I'm helping Mom!" Hubby made pancakes and bacon for dinner - at my suggestion - because we didn't want to go out and spend money and neither of us had any other inspiration for food. Kiddo ate well, but Little Bit flatly refused to eat. She spent the 30 minutes stabbing at her food with one fat little finger and screaming to get down. Finally, when Kiddo decided he had to take a shower (by himself) to get the sticky syrup off of his arm, I allowed LB her freedom. She screamed some more when she realized Kiddo was in the shower and she was not being allowed to join him. Kiddo did very well taking his first solo shower, but I had to keep reminding him that showers were for washing, not slopping around in the water at the base of the tub. After Kiddo's shower, Little Bit got a bath. She was sitting in the shallow water, confused, asking me, "Cha-ee go?" (This means, "Where is [Kiddo]?" or "Where did [Kiddo] go?") I explained to her, with perfect parent logic, that he'd already taken a shower and she had the bath tub all to herself. Her immediate response to this was a very loud, "NO!!!" and a double-handed slap of the water, which splashed me head to torso. Yay. Both kids clean, they sat and watched Noggin (ugh) for about 60 minutes. This was more quiet time in which I was able to get the laundry moving again, and was also able to go through a basket of "stuff" (a nice euphemism for something harsher that means "things that should go in the garbage" or "what the barnacles is this doing here?"). Then Little Bit went to bed and the anticipated screaming began. She cried for 40 minutes! I tried to go in there and soothe her two or three times, but every time I would think she was asleep and then put her in her bed, she'd immediately wake up and start the ear-piercing vocalizations again. Sheesh! I finally decided that enough was enough, told her in my best authoritative voice, "No. It's time to sleep now. Close your eyes and hush!" and resolved myself to listening to her until she cried herself to sleep. I hate doing that, but sometimes you gotta. Kiddo went to bed easily, wearing his knitted cap that my step-sister made for him when he was very small. (Thanks M!) He wears it occasionally like an extension of himself. I'm glad it still fits! You're probably wondering where my, "What in the name of potatoes?" comment comes from? Well, Little Bit began to cough. A deep, mucus-rattling, hoarse sound that worried me. She was tossing and turning and trying not to cough so her chest was hitching and she was obviously uncomfortable. I know exactly how that feels and know, also, that it is times like that when I need to sleep sitting up. So I scooped her up out of her crib, blankies and all, carried her with me into my bed, propped myself up, and settled her onto my chest. She seemed soothed, until Daddy came to bed. Then she perked up and transferred herself to Daddy's chest - but this only lasted for less than one minute. She eventually wound up sleeping soundly (and sweatily) between us for most of the night. I felt better having her there because I knew any breathing troubles on her part would wake me up. She had a couple coughing fits, but otherwise slept pretty well. I, on the other hand, did not sleep well. I cannot speak for Hubby, but I'm guessing he didn't sleep any better than I did. Yep - both kids are mucus factories right now - and it's so lovely, let me tell you. Neither of them have a fever, and neither of them seem particularly bothered by their state of wellness (or lack of), but we're watching them closely...just in case a visit to the doctor is necessary. It probably doesn't seem like last evening was too bad, but it was very frustrating from my stand point. Even if I did manage to get several loads of laundry done - I accomplished something, can you believe it? TTFN JMS PS: Oh yeah. I forgot to mention that in one of LB's fits of rage last night (man, she was a whirlwind) she smacked her head, twice, into mine. Hard. The first time she got me on the eye brow just above and to the outside of my right eye. No visible bruise, but I sure can feel it. The second time she smashed her head into my upper lip. This one really hurts because the impact made my teeth cut open the underside of my lip. My tooth should be loose! Again, no visible brusing, but my lip is swollen and sore. Good gravy...what next?

Kiddo Whispers

I was getting ready for work this morning, trying to tiptoe around the house so as not to wake anyone unnecessarily, when I heard a raspy cough and then a quiet, but somewhat strangled, "Mommy!" I headed toward the sound even before I was beckoned, so I was almost to the door of Kiddo's room when he called for me. The dog, having been completely asleep, was startled by my sudden appearance and scrambled out of the way as I made a bee-line for Kiddo's bed, wrapped snugly in my soft, pink bathrobe. (Hate the color, love the robe.) He says pitifully, "I lost my voice, Mom!" and then begins to cry silent tears. I said, "Hey buddy...how many times have you heard Mommy lose her voice?" He whispers, "A lot." I ask, "And how many times has my voice come back?" He responds quietly, "Every time." I say, "So are you afraid your voice won't come back?" He says, "Not anymore," and then adds, "Can I have some medicine?" I tell him that there really isn't any medicine I can give him for a lost voice, but I can give him his vitamin and a cup of water. He agrees to this readily. While I hustle around the kitchen, trying to be quick and silent at the same time, I hear him trying to clear his throat. Poor kid. He chews his vitamin, drinks his water and then says, "I think this is going to help, Mom." I can't help but chuckle a bit. He asks me to tell Daddy that his voice is gone, which I do. Then he whispers that he loves me as I head out the door to work. At times like this, I want SO badly to stay home with him. I know he's not really sick, though. He doesn't have a fever and there are no other symptoms except some slight congestion. I think his voice was affected by post-nasal drip - which happens to me more often than I care to admit. I know exactly how he feels. It's a somewhat helpless feeling to not be able to talk above a whisper, especially when you feel pretty much OK otherwise. We'll keep an eye on him to see if he is getting sick, but I think he'll be fine. Little Bit is fighting something, too, though...she's really congested and has a little bit (tee hee) of a cough. I'm sure this is nothing more than a change-of-season cold, which I get every year between Summer and Fall and then again from Winter to Spring. It's no fun, but it could be worse. Wish us luck! TTFN JMS

Easy Evening at Home

I got home from work last night, and Hubby was chasing the kids around the house playing a mangled version of Hide-and-Seek mixed with Tag. There was lots of excited squealing, screaming and giggles. It was nice to come home to a happy house. I cooked dinner. Yes, you heard that right. I...me...myself...and I! I cooked dinner. Please, I caution you not to fall off your chair in a state of shock. You know by now, I'm sure, that, though I can cook...I hate to cook. I made chicken breasts, a salad, bread (store-bought and warmed) and gave the kids a piece of fruit. Little Bit gorged herself on cucumbers and Kiddo ate salad - and asked for more. They both almost totally neglected the wonderful chicken that I slaved over for all of 15 minutes. (The oven did the hard part.) But I'm not going to complain if they prefer fruits and veggies over meat. I'm a little bit pleased with myself that the chicken came out so perfectly. Can someone please reach out and pat me on the back? Ah...the pleasure I get out of little things. Then both kids got a bath. This was one of those "I hate bath time" baths where I got soaked and irritated. Both kids got clean, but I was the one who really needed the towel afterwards. They probably could have drip-dried faster than I could have toweled off! Sheesh! Bedtime was mostly a non-issue - thank goodness. Little Bit cried for a time, but eventually settled down and introduced herself to Slumberland. I read Kiddo his new book. He and Little Bit are both signed up for Dolly Parton's Imagination Library where they each get a new book monthly until they are five years old. It's been a great program and the books are wonderful. Anyway, we read "The Legend of the Indian Paintbrush" which was very sweet, and we tucked him in and he was out in less than 20 minutes. I like easy nights. I like when I'm mentally capable of handling multiple things at once - especially at home. I multi-task like a champ at work, but for some reason, when I get home, it all goes to you-know-where in a hand-basket. I'm lucky if I can pick myself up off the couch long enough to be an active participant in the family. Ugh. But last night was easy. I want every night to be easy like that. It makes me feel like I'm a good, capable parent. TTFN JMS

I'm glad it's Monday!

No, really - I am actually glad that it's Monday! While this weekend was very, very nice - it was mentally and physically exhausting. I took Kiddo and Little Bit with me up to my Sister-in-Law's house on Friday night. We went to bed shortly after we arrived because it was late and the kids were already tired. We slept, the three of us, in one bed - which actually worked out quite well. I brought the bed-rail with me to make sure no one fell out of bed. Kiddo slept on one side (by the bed rail), Little Bit slept in the middle, and I slept on the other side. Other than Little Bit smacking one or both of us multiple times during the night, we all slept rather well. On Saturday morning, we got up and had a lovely breakfast (eggs, bacon, and biscuits) and set about having our fill of fun. Kiddo spent a good portion of the entire weekend in SIL's basement playing with the multitude of toys she's kept from when her son was small. He was happy as a pig in mud. Little Bit spent the entire time (the whole, entire weekend) screaming for me. She would not let me out of her sight and rarely let me put her down. The following is a list of words she screamed to anyone who would listen...and that was everyone, because she's really loud!: "No!" "Mommy!" "Wait!" "Me, too!" "Up!" "Down!" These were repeated over, and over, and over again the whole weekend. You can also mix them up and use them together. "No, Mommy! Wait!" or "Me, too, Mommy!" By the time Hubby and I got her to bed on Sunday night, I was ready to crawl under a rock and hide. She clung to me like a monkey clings to a tree. I know, now, what it means to have a monkey on my back...in the most literal sense. She wanted up, then she wanted down. When I put her down, she screamed to be picked up again. When I turned my back, even for the smallest portion of a second, she screamed bloody murder - like I was going to leave and never come back. I couldn't go to the bathroom unattended. I was, by some miracle, able to get in a shower this weekend - but I'm not sure how I managed that. It was extremely frustrating. Frustrating as it was, however, there's just something about being needed by your children, however irrational or desperate that need may be, that you cannot say, "No" to. I hugged and held her more this weekend than I have, I think, since she was born! Well, it seems that way, anyway. It tore at my heart to hear her screaming for me like that - like I was going to abandon her. I wanted so badly to just let her know that I would be right back - I told her this over and over again - but she's really still to young to understand that. I take it for granted, sometimes, that my kids seem to be hyper-aware. They have both understood things well before all the "experts" say they should. I forget that, while she understands a good portion of what I say to her, she still doesn't really grasp the actual meanings of things like, "I'll be right back." She knows that if she tells me, "Wait!" that I stop and wait for her. She knows if she says, "Blankie," that someone will go find her blanket. She knows that if she says, "Eat," that someone will feed her. But the less literal things, like "I'll be right back," still are too far out of her realm of understanding. She'll get there - probably sooner than later - but right now, it's very hard. It just was easier to pick her up and bring her with me rather than listen to her scream, or to subject anyone else to listening to her scream. My other SIL took me outside on Saturday to show me her new car and I don't think we were gone for 2 minutes before my BIL brought both kids out to see where we were. He said, somewhat sheepishly, "She was screaming at the door for you, so I brought her out." So much for my 5 minutes of quiet time. I feel sorry for everyone else who had to listen to her this weekend. Kiddo was never like this. I don't remember a single time that he screamed and cried for one or the other of us. Is it just because she's a girl? Is she more needy than he was at her age? Is it the fact that she's cutting three teeth at once? Is she getting sick? So many questions...so few actual answers. TTFN JMS

Guess what? It's fall! My favorite time of year!

I'm so excited about the cooler weather, the crisp breezes, the slightly-frosty mornings, the ever-changing leaves, and sleeping with the windows open that I can hardly stand it! This is the time of year when I get to put out my brass pumpkin jack-o-lanterns and plan the kids Halloween costumes! (Little Bit will most likely be a pumpkin this year and who knows what Kiddo will want to be...the speculation on what his four-year-old brain will come up with is nearly as exciting as opening presents on Christmas morning!) The scent in the air is special, too. It reminds me of being young and living in Connecticut. As the leaves begin to show their full spectrum of color and then eventually make their way to the ground, I get geared up. This weather, this time of year, this season is absolutely my favorite. It's walking weather, too! Now that my foot is healing (nicely, I might add...though still quite sore), I will be taking the kids out as often as possible to enjoy the cool evenings. Last night, we went to Sonic for dinner, just the three of us. Then we hit Wally-World for a few items. Then, we went to the playground down the street from our house for about 30 minutes of climbing, swinging, running and fun. Kiddo went down one of the huge slides and as he came off the end he tumbled head-over-heals. He bumped his head, got covered in wood-chips, and was probably more scared than hurt, but he cried his eyes out and then said, "I'm OK now - can I do that again?" Kids...gotta love 'em! So tonight I am going to pack up the car for the trip to my Sister-in-Law's house. It's about a 2 hour drive, so it shouldn't be terrible. We're headed up for my niece's birthday dinner tomorrow night. Hubby is going to stay home for some much-needed alone time. This is my gift to him...as small as it may be. Anyway - got a busy weekend ahead of us. Hope everyone is doing well! TTFN JMS

I'm standing, really, really high, up on my soapbox...

Japan is starting to measure waist-lines of folks between the ages of 40 and 74 who come in for their annual physical. According to the article ("Caught in THE Middle") I read this morning in the Knoxville News Sentinel, the waist-line limit for men is 33.5 inches and 35.4 inches for women. Then, should the individual need assistance (read: "mandatory weight loss") they will be given 3 months to lose the weight, and, if after that time they are still not meeting the guidelines, they may be allowed up to 6 months of dietary advice from their doctors. My friend "G" called this brief article to my attention, and it intrigued me - it started me thinking (scary!). (Please remember that everything I write here is only MY thoughts and opinions - I am not trying to make them yours...) In today's society (speaking here mostly of America, but the weight-issue is definitely a world-wide problem) obesity is sort of the norm now. I don't know statistics, but I know that there are many, many more people the world over who suffer from being overweight, either slightly, or morbidly. If a corporation, or a local government, or whatever, decided to include such guidelines (as Japan has) in their health care options, I think it would be a good idea - to an extent. I don't think that anyone (government, corporate entity etc...) should say, "Everyone should weigh this much...and if you go over it, you lose whatever health care benefits you have until your weight is back within limits." I do think that if "they" gave more strict guidelines, or just guided folks toward more healthy living in the first place... Well - basically I think that most folks who struggle with their weight just need someone to help them. Someone to ask questions to, someone to provide a shoulder to cry on when they slip up and then help them get back on their feet, someone to actually give a rat's backside about that individual person rather than their entire clientele as a whole - the money factor. I know that I struggle. I know how many times I've tried and failed, and how bad I feel about myself mentally and physically after that failure. It's tough to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again (la de dah). I'm not making light of it. I may not be morbidly obese, but I know I am overweight (according to my doctor and according to all the research I've done on Body Mass Indexes and Total Body Fat) and I know how badly I just want to feel comfortable in my clothes again. How many overweight folks actually get the care they need, physically, mentally and emotionally, to deal with their weight? Probably very few. Then there are the obese children. This is really what scares me. Parents raising children who they KNOW are overweight, but really do nothing to change it. They KNOW they should be feeding their kids healthier food, making them get up off their butts and go to that wonderful place called "Outside" or "Backyard." These parents KNOW their kids are struggling physically, but can they grasp how their children are struggling emotionally? That the other kids at school probably tease their child mercilessly? That their child probably feels like no one is doing ANYTHING to help? Can those overweight children really make their own decisions about dieting and healthy living? Maybe some can, but in general, I'd wager they cannot. Do the parents of these poor, obese children, make the right choices for themselves? Again, probably not; and this is the reason why their kids are overweight, too. Children are witnessing their parents eating habits and simply copying them. I know as a parent I cannot imagine letting my Kiddo or Little Bit fall into the overweight or obese categories before they're old enough to make the right dietary decisions for themselves. This is why they don't get candy, they don't eat constantly all day, they snack on healthy things (OK...are Goldfish really healthy?), they don't drink soda, they get some juice, but it's always watered down so to reduce the sugar. They brush their teeth. They get their baths, and their vitamins. I know Hubby and I try very, very hard to make sure that our kids are healthy. I cannot imaging doing nothing for my kids while they are still too young to make their own decisions. I don't think that some parents even know or realize that their kids are struggling because these parents are so used to the overweight lifestyle, they don't see it the same way a "healthy" parent sees is. Their overweight child is just an extension of themselves... OK - I'm absolutely positive that there are many parents who know all about the weight their young children are struggling with and are also very actively trying to help them. I know that there are parents who have done absolutely everything in their power to not only lose the weight themselves, but set a good example for their children. I certainly don't think that it's just laziness. But, what if there were a bigger, stronger motivating factor to keep yourself within a healthy weight range? There are statistics that say "if you are so tall than your healthy weight should be such and such..." Right? Bear with me. What if you risked losing your job or your health care or some other necessary thing if your weight went above your individual healthy limit? What kind of motivation would that be for you. If you knew that your income would stop if you went over 180lbs (just a number I grabbed out of thin air) would you pay more attention to your diet? Would you exercise more? What would you do? How would your life change? How would you change the lives of those around you...and specifically your children? Has anyone seen Wall-E - the animated movie? If so, you'll know what I mean when I say that we certainly don't want to end up like that in 700 years. 'Nuff Said. Stepping down now. Thanks for bearing with me. I think, maybe, I've gotten this out of my system. Sheesh! Where did THAT all come from? Thanks "G!" TTFN JMS

Ice Pack Trick, Foot Progress, Diaper Rash

Sorry - I'm just totally uninspired right now. **** We have a cafeteria at work, but I've not purchased anything from it in almost 2 weeks. I'm sick of it. It never changes. When it's good, it's OK and when it's bad, it's terrible. We have lost two good cooks in the last three weeks and are now stuck with someone who, while he's got good intentions, cannot cook to save his life. I can't even bring myself to sample the food he cooks. Therefore, I'm not patronizing the cafeteria at work, I am bringing my lunch. I also have, yet again, put myself on a restricted intake of food. (I refuse to call it a diet. That's a four-letter word, you know...) I'm trying VERY hard to lose at least 1 full size in 6 months. I'm taking it slowly, so 1 size in 6 months shouldn't be too terribly hard. Except it is. So by April '09, I should be a very comfortable size 12. That's my goal. I will absolutely be horrified with myself if I fail at this one simple task. I fail at so much these days, it seems. Anyway - since I am now bringing my lunch to work on a very regular basis, I have devised an ingenious way to cool my lunch bag without using a standard ice-pack. I am absolutely positive that I am not the first one to come up with this, however, but I did think of it myself - no one put the idea in my head. (This pleases me for some reason.) I simply freeze a 16- or 20-oz bottle of water and put it in my lunch bag along with all my other allowable foods. It's melted enough by the time I need/want to drink it that I've got some nice, cold, ice water to sip on for the rest of the day. I think it's brilliant. Silly...right? **** My foot is healing nicely. Still uncomfortable and still ugly-looking, but healing well. I'm in the waiting-for-the-dead-skin-on-the-callous-to-fall-off stage of healing. It's still uncomfortable, but I can - almost - walk on it without pain. Standing, putting pressure on it, is OK. Walking, actually moving that joint under my big toe, is slightly more difficult and hurts when the wounded area stretches. I ditched the walking boot and ace bandage combo yesterday and wore my sneakers instead. It was the first day I had worn a real shoe on my right foot since before The Foot Incident at the beach. I put a large bandage over the wound, a sock over my foot and a shoe over the whole thing. It was probably too soon. My foot ached like the dickens by the time I got home. I wrapped it up again in the ace bandage, but by the time I was settling in with Hubby to watch Iron Man, my foot was restless and uncomfortable again. I took the bandage off and didn't put anything back on it until after my shower this morning. I'm in a regular bandage and a sneaker again. I'm hoping that with use, my foot - that joint - will loosen up and not be as painful when I walk. **** Kiddo and Little Bit are doing well. Little Bit has a terrible diaper rash - one that actually causes her pain. I researched ointments online yesterday and found that Triple Paste seems to be the number one treatment for this kind of rash. After that, Boudreaux's Butt Paste. (Funny, eh?) They're both good. We use BBP, usually, but this rash of hers needs something...um...more. Poor thing. I bathed them last night and actually managed to get through an entire bath without getting completely soaked or having to raise my voice once. Both kids got scrubbed until they were pink and shiny. Then, they (with my help, of course) got out of the tub, dried, teeth brushed, hair dried (hair dryers are funny, apparently) and then they played...naked...for about 15 minutes. I let them play this way mainly for Little Bit's benefit. All the research I did yesterday on diaper rash said that getting them good and clean and then letting them run around naked for a while will help the rash heal. Hubby said this morning that her backside seems redder, but the redness is smaller. Does that make sense? It's only been 1 day...so hopefully she'll start feeling better soon. **** Well, for being uninspired today - I seem to have written quite a lot, huh? I guess that's what happens to me when I don't write for a couple of days. All this "stuff" gets backed up in my brain and then comes out in a mad rush of typing. My fingers aren't tired yet, but my brain is. I'm gonna go, now. Have a great day! TTFN JMS