About Me

My photo
Married to GI Joe, and the Mother to GI Joe Jr (whom is currently addicted to the Wonderful World of Superheroes), I'm a WV Hillbilly plunked down in a subdivision. I have a backyard garden, crazy neighbors, and a goofy dog that we love on Tuesdays. We love to travel and explore new things, so feel free to browse our life. Sometimes it is exciting, most of the time it is just life. But we are having a good time at it.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

It's 5 o'clock somewhere...

5am that is...

So I crawled out of bed at the butt crack of dawn this morning, donned my one pair of workout pants and my old t shirt. Woke up The Husband to ask where his Ipod was. In my defense...his Ipod has been docked in our surround sound system for a year now. I go to pick it up this morning, and its not there. He had it in his backpack...ohkay...where?

Got the dog harnessed up and out the door.

My goal...20 laps around our cul de sac...almost two miles.

The Cat decided to get in the action to. She's solid black, so I just kept seeing a flitting black shadow running around.

Around lap 5 I realized I wasn't going to make 20 this morning...that was going to require me getting up earlier, and being in better shape.

Lap 6 I had to tie the dog to our mailbox. He couldn't hang with me.

Lap 8 I untied the dog from the mailbox because he had wound himself around it until he couldn't move.

Lap 10...we were done. It was right around a mile...I did thirty minutes of brisk walking...to stupid songs on my Husband's Ipod. I have my own...its a Shuffle. I hate it. He loaded it with stupid songs. One minute you are trotting along to Pour Some Sugar on Me...and then it flips to bagpipe music. Not kidding. I think I want to download some audio books or podcasts or something...I'm not a huge fan of music. Worked in radio a bit too long.

I feel pretty good.

So as of this morning...183 pounds. GOAL...drop 20 pounds off of this butt if it is the last thing I do.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Reading her story...

Five and a half years ago, a former co worker lost his daughter in a back over accident, in his own driveway. She was killed by a contractor, who simply didn't see her.

She was two and a half.

And her mom witnessed it all.

Her webiste is HERE if you want the full story.

All of us at our job were deeply affected. Everyone that knew Annabelle was deeply touched by the incident. We didn't know how much at the time, but we grieved with all of our hearts.

I went to the funeral...I saw that little itty bitty casket up front. I watched her parents walk into the sanctuary. I listened to her dad (my co worker) sob his eulogy. I choked back gallons of tears and my heart broke in two. I heard the EMT's that were at the scene, standing in the back, sniffing and crying. I saw the police officers crying. Everyone in that church grieved with every ounce of their being. And I couldn't imagine for the life of me, how many drugs that mother and father must be on, to get through this.

My husband and I followed that funeral procession to her little grave. And we stood there in silence during the graveside rites. The line of cars wrapped around the cemetary. And I didn't know what to say, to anyone. So I stayed quiet.

And we went home. And I stripped my funeral clothes off, took a shower, crawled into my bed, naked and slept. For hours. I wanted it washed away.

But it never left.

And it changed us forever. Especially after having our son. We don't know the depth of losing our own child, but we know the depth of watching one that we loved, be lost. And I don't want to ever ever ever go through that again.

I've been back to her grave a few times...but today was the first time I took The Toddler with me.

We were up in that part of town, and her birthday was a week ago. So I thought I would stop by. I just needed to. She would have been eight.

She was my 'high five' buddy, and just a joy. I remember her mom giving birth to her a few days after their wedding anniversary (that The Husband and I share with them), and how happy they were. I remember the birth of her little brother, and how she loved him so. I remember seeing her just the day before she was killed. And I remember my co worker coming in and telling us the news. And I looked over in the corner, where the day before she had run to me, and high fived me with her big smile and giggle. She had just been there...she couldn't be gone. Like that.

So I pulled in and got The Toddler out...and took him to her grave. Balloons fluttered from the bouquet of flowers. They had Tweety Bird and other characters on them and said 'Happy Birthday'. My heart just ached.

To The Toddler, a cemetary is full of 'stories'. Some headstones have the open Bible/Book on them with words enscribed. Our family cemetary was full of those types, so he calls them 'stories'. I guess basically, that's what they are.

I led him to her little grave, and he asked 'who is she?' So as I knelt in front of Annabelle's grave, next to the little pond, and cried silent tears...I tried to explain who she was, but my son started reading her 'story' to me.

He told me she had 'pretty yellow flowers, and balloons mom'...and that she was 'with Jesus'. The headstone is simple, with a scene of Jesus with The Children. A passage from 'Goodnight Moon' is enscribed below her name. I remember seeing the proof come over the fax one day as I cleared the papers off of it. How do you pick out your child's headstone? Really...how do you go through that process?

That made my heart get tight and my throat all choked up. Just to see him there, at her headstone, and telling me her 'story'.

The he wanted to show me the water...he was done.

I'll take him back, and remind him again why I am the kind of mom that I am. Holding hands is the only option. I am a helicopter mom...I am on top of him. He is my one and only...the light of my world...and I will do everything I can to never go through that again.

Now that we are all nice and depressed...again.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Out with the old...in with the Chub

Purging the old…ahhhh. The joys of it all...

I spent the weekend purging my closets, and drawers, and sweating profusely.

I hate cleaning out the closets.

I hate cleaning out the drawers in my dresser.

But it needed to be done. Desperately.

They were such a mess. Three years of just cramming crap in there. Shoving stuff back, piling stuff in. Not sorted at all...not anymore.

I couldn't take it anymore.

There were tshirts in there that were size Smalls. I have not been a Small since right after The Toddler was born. Over three years ago.

There were really old pairs of underwear. I threw those away. Some of them were Smalls too…dangit. What happened?

Some mismatched socks. Trash.

Dress pants…size 16 to size 8. I kept the 12’s…cause that’s what I am currently sporting. I refuse to put on a 14 or 16 ever again. I will keep trying on pants in a store until I find a 12 that fits, or we leave.

I did keep one pair of size 8 jeans…just in case. You never know. I may get my tail in gear and lose some weight. So I kept those jeans as motivation. They'll end up in the back of the closet, just where they were before. But I can kid myself for ten minutes.

My skinny jeans…I put them all in the give away bag. My hips are never gonna do that again. I do have some sense of reality.

There were dress shirts that were maternity…heck yes, those went in the giveaway. NOT doing that again.

There were dress shirts post maternity. I didn’t keep any of those. I had either worn them out, didn't like them anymore, or they were Smalls and Mediums. Yeah...I'm a Large.

Pajamas…size Small…goodbye.

Shorts…size 8….goodbye.

Capri pans…the bright blue ones that were so cool…size 8…goodbye. The beige ones that made my butt look like two hams battling it out. Yeah, those are definitely gone. Should have been gone the first time I tried them on. Never wore them.

It’s just time to face facts.

I’m gonna be chunky.

Unless I get my butt in gear and get this weight off. There are no excuses really. I just haven't worked at it. I get up at 6a...go to work all day. Run my errands during lunch. Get off at 530p...scoot home with the Toddler in the backseat. Rush through evening chores. Get the Toddler to bed. Go to bed myself...if I don't end up sleeping part of the night in his bed.

And then start all over again.

Urgh...what happend to my body...the one I had at 18? She looked pretty damn good. 18 freaking years later, not so much. If I had known how things would have turned out, I'd done things a lot different back then...or at least up until now. I want that butt back!

Friday, October 15, 2010

Why do I love Halloween....

Why do I love Halloween...my absolute favorite Holiday of all?

Let's see, shall we?

First: It's fall. I love fall. The stiffling bearing down on you muddy air heat is GONE. Once again, I can breathe without my lungs screaming at me and my nasal passages wanting to close up out of self preservation. When we first moved to Virginia from the cool breezy hills of West Virginia in 2001, I honestly thought I was going to die. It was sooo bloody stinking HOT. HOT when I left for work. HOTTER all day. HOT on the drive home. HOT when it got dark. HOT at 2am. HOT. I hate the heat.

Second: The colors...I guess that falls under 'it's fall'. I miss the mountains back home and the wash of colors this time of the year. I love the piles of pumpkins at stores. I love the gourds, and the haybales. I love the scarecrows and silly Halloween decorations. This weekend, on our drive to West Virginia, someone had taken a roll of hay, some flexible drainage pipe and had made a spider out of it...pretty cool. Then added mannequin legs sticking out of its mouth. Cute!

Third: The holiday itself is just fun. Fun to set up for the trick or treaters. Fun for my little one to dress up. He's a cow this year if anyone wants to know. He wants me to be a cow too...I'm ok with not dressing up as a cow. We get loads of trick or treaters, and we have such a good time.

Fourth: And this is my main reason for loving Halloween.


No one exchanges presents at Halloween (except the obligatory handing out of candy to the TOT'rs.) There is no rushing to get all the presents wrapped, and in the car, and under the tree, and in the mail.

There are no guilt trips from ANYONE for not visiting over the Halloween Holiday.

No one is cooking a huge meal, or expecting you to cook a huge meal on the Halloween Holiday. No muss, no fuss, order a pizza!

There is no driving to one person's house for two hours, and another person's house for two hours...and making sure you spend equal time at both houses or you will hear about it for the next stinking year how Person's House #1 got 10 more minutes during the Halloween Holiday.

There are no awkward moments of everyone just sitting around looking at each other when they have run out of presents, food, etc.

The stores stay open.

There are no awkward gifts. Like when your mom buys you an XL sweater and says 'since you seem to keep gaining weight, I went up a size for you'.

There are no phone calls on Halloween morning where someone is complaining that you are not there Halloween Morning, and that they always did (insert some weird special tradition that you don't remember) on Halloween Morning with you and they miss that.

There are no phone calls through Halloween Day with the same above scenario.

There are no obligatory phone calls to be made to relatives you haven't spoken to in months on Halloween Day. Sometimes they join in the 'why aren't you back home Halloween' guilting.

There are cute photos of my kid with a pumpkin bucket and his costume of choice. His nose is running, yes, it's cold outside and my mom will continue to comment that his nose is running in the pictures I sent her for the next two years...but he's having a ball. Or last year, when it was so hot, she had to keep talking about how he was sweating in his raincoat (he was a thrown together fireman since the dinosaur costume suddenly was not his thing)...and how concerned she was for him...days later...after Halloween...she was concerned.

We get to do pumpkin patches to our heart's content for an entire month and let him just run and smack the big ol' pumpkins in the rows. And we buy too many every year. But you can't have too many pumpkins can you?

I didn't get to do Halloween very much as a kid. Our community church had a big party and that was fun. We dressed up, played games, had fun. We were so rural, that trick or treating was not an option. Trick or Get Shot was more like it...and the kids would cut down trees across the road to block the school busses. I remember my driver having a chainsaw on the bus in the few days leading up and after Halloween every year. It was what it was.

I love Trick or Treating, and will even give out candy to the kids that don't dress up. Ask them what they are...they just look at you and hold out their pillowcase. Oh well...here.

I love Halloween...it's the most wonderful time of the year!

Monday, October 4, 2010

Envelope please....

It's Monday and I got the envelope on Saturday.

In all of the hullabaloo of unpacking a sleeping toddler from the car and working on uploading the pics I took at the Birthday Party, I didn't open the mail.

I discovered the letter this morning in the bottom of my 'crap bag' that I lug around with goldfish, random mail, some wipes, a change of clothes for the kiddo, etc. I don't schlep it into places, it just stays in the car and gathers 'crap'.

Oh crap (again, must be my word for the day) I didn't open it.

It's from the hospital where I had my Mammary Mashing (as a reader called it). It's good news right? Otherwise I would have gotten another call from a very sweet soft spoken nurse who thought I was going to freak out on her. She would have gotten a freak out if I had gotten another call.

But then again, they could have called and I missed it. The Husband is not the best at letting me know about phone messages, and I will admit, I scan the caller ID before I check voice mail. Right now our voice mail light is blinking at our house, and has been all weekend. I know it is my mom...she can just wait in digital voice mail land. I've already talked to her about the issue and I don't feel like doing all the button pushing to make that light stop blinking...ya know!

Then again, I received four letters from them telling my first mammogram was abnormal and I needed further tests. FOUR. Yes, FOUR. I got the point folks!

So this could be the follow up letter to the follow up phone call saying I need to come back in.

So I open up the letter and scan it quickly for 'abnormal' 'cancer' 'masectomy' 'you owe us a gazillion dollars' etc.

Nope...my second round of smooshing and squishing came back NORMAL. NORMAL.

Who knew?

So I announced to The Husband...'Hey, I'm benign!' Cause I didn't think telling him I was 'normal' would suffice. I'm clearly NOT normal in the slightest.

But who is? I mean ...there is always Wheezy's family to aspire to.

So whew...I'm benign. The mole is benign, the boobs are benign. I think I need a haircut.

Oh yeah, and I sported my 'Fight Like a Girl' breast cancer awareness sweatshirt all day yesterday. October is Breast Cancer Awareness month...go get friendly with a machine girls!

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Birthdays...how many kids are October babies!

In the realm of Three Year Olds...apparently this is the magic age that we, as parents, have to start throwing these big whoo doo birthday parties.

We threw our required birthday party back in August for his Big Three. I won't be doing a Frightening Four next year...the thought of doing all of that again gives me hives. I will wait until the Fairly Far Away Five, before I put ourselves through that again.

It's just when we do a birthday, we have to do a BIRTHDAY EVENT since both sets of grandparents live so far away, and the neighbors are close, and we have friends. I called it Birthday PaloozaFest. We had the morning birthday party at a site for his friends and daycare class. Then nap...(intermission)...then a backyard cookout and such for the neighbors, adult friends and both sets of grandparents. I was EXHAUSTED by the time we got him to bed at nearly midnight and DONE with Birthday PaloozaFest.

But now we have started the cycle of all of his little friends having their own BirthdayPaloozaFests.

Here's the deal...we did a non-present party. It was great. No presents, no fighting, no arguing, no tears. No parents having to find SOMETHING noisy for me to drag home and deal with. It was too eeeeassssy.

The trend has stuck. I didn't start it, so please don't name the trend after me. I mean you can try...I won't stop you. But I will have to give credit where it is due. It was my boss and her kids. I saw how well it worked for them and jumped all over that bandwagon. Believe me...I am riding that puppy as long as I can.

We have been to one Present Party since, and it was a nightmare. The kids didn't understand why they had to leave what they had brought. My son kept telling the Birthday Boy "You have to share!" And then he proceeded to attempt to carry out some of Birthday Boys random toys to take home. I guess it was a trading situation in Three Year Old Land.

Today was another birthday shindig. At a nice local park. Would have been really nice if the Birthday Parents had bothered to give an indication as to WHICH shelter they would be at. I didn't know their car. I didn't know their friends. And there were TWELVE shelters at this park...and I swear TEN of them were sporting children's balloons and party decorations. I narrowed it down to non-princess balloons, but I still had no clue. I didn't even think to ask when I RSVP'd, thinking they would have it MARKED.

No...I circled that place three times and really regretted not getting her cell phone number off of the email. I finally saw Birthday Boy and figured I was in the right general area. Then I spotted his mom, and we were good. Then I called two parents that I had already talked to, that were having the same trouble, and gave them the scoop. Guess I was the scout.

The party went well. It was a 'no-present, only your prescence' bonanza, and the kids had a blast. There was a huge playground nearby and the kids did what kids do. Went nuts.

The Birthday Boy absolutely beamed as everyone sang Happy Birthday and presented his cake. The Other Kids salivated and demanded certain pieces of the cake. My own child got in on the action and wanted the 'blue part'. Note: The cake was mostly blue. He loves Birthday Cake.

We used it as a potty training aide to get him going. If he pee peed in the potty at daycare, we had birthday cake the next night at dinner. Any cake is birthday cake for him. When he went a whole week of pee pee ing in the potty at daycare, we had a birthday cake with a candle and sang 'Happy Potty to you!' We did. I have it on memory card...can't say film anymore can we?

And once again, I got to drag out my new wonderful super gorgeous camera and get some awesome pictures of the Birthday Boy having fun. There were some great cake eating photos included. I took some of my kid too, but he wasn't being cooperative today. Birthday Boy's photos turned out great, and I just showed The Husband who pronounced them "Oh WOW".

Sometimes I think I need to start charging $25 an hour to attend your childs birthday. You supply the memory card. I snap pics, hand you the card, and leave. That way you don't have to. Wonder if anyone would pay for that?

Another birthday party next weekend, two the following weekend, and one at the end of the month. Then we should be done for a while...all these folks that conceived over the Holidays...gee thanks!

Popular Posts