My god it looks like Daniel

Lately, Dan the man has been saying how much he dislikes school. He would like us to believe he would never go again if we didn't force him. We all know he is smitten with his teacher and this is a total farce in an effort to be a machismo second grader.

But he exclaimed in the car yesterday, "If I was the ruler of everything, I would cancel all the schools."
To which we responded with wide-eyed disbelief, "You don't want children to learn how to READ?! Or count?! Tyrant!"
Dan-the-man countered with, "Weeeelllll, I would cancel all school after the second grade. (disgusted hmmph) Because I already know E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G!"

Shhh... we're huntin ducks

Baby Girl and I went to the park today. We sat on the bridge and tossed our bread chunks to the ducks and squirrels. She whispered things to me like, "Dat duck wikes my bwead." She hugged me and said I was SOOO sweet and beeeyooouuutifull. We held hands and walked the long way back to the car. I love spring.

Proud mama

I may have mentioned a time or twenty that our oldest son is now employed. Over the weekend, I dragged our family and my visiting friend to see the boy in action. I cannot convey how strange it is to see the boy you nursed, changed, sang to, read to, dressed, bathed, snuggled with, and carried on your hip serving up fast food to strangers. I am so proud of him. He made good eye contact, was courteous, at ease, and closed each purchase with a "Y'all have a good day!". Brought a tear to my robotic eye. This is the transition that I could never really prepare for. This person we brought into the world and tried to teach, is now taking all we gave and putting it into practice. We aren't there to whisper from the sidelines if he forgets. He is a good boy. I am so proud of him. We may disagree on so much, but in the end, I must now take him at his face value as a person, not just my son. He will have opinions that will differ from mine, his friends will be foreign to me, his work ethic will be his to control. From all indications, I will be proud to call him friend, when I can no longer claim him as my baby.

little bits

My daughter and I had a lunch date this week. She ordered her own food (PANCAKES) and specified CHOCUT MIK (Aurelia for chocolate milk). The crazy bendy straw gave her fits of giggles as she would open her eyes wide and watch the milk rise and fall in the loops. I told her she is my friend and I wanted to go to lunch with her so we could talk. She feels neglected sometimes when I do alot of phone work (CASA, other moms, school volunteer stuff, family and friends who live far from me), so I wanted to give her a little me time. She didn't bust out any revelations about life or start speaking any clearer or anything. But she proclaimed loudly across the parking lot that she is my friend, my grrrrl, and she is stwong!

Meanwhile, my two boys were both tucked away in various corners of our house. I went to look for both of them at different times and found each of them curled up on their beds, reading a book with a stack of books close by. I don't know about you, but my heart swells to know that as I am reading with my own book/stack of books, my sweet boys are enjoying the world outside ours with mere words. Books rock!

Help me, oh sweet Pete!

My husband is practicing his humor. He has spent the entire evening trying so hard to be good at the schtick that belongs to me (annoying, getting under skin, etc. ) and yet he is no good at it. He starts to feel bad. He starts to feel guilty about his behavior. And I am tempted to tell him it's ok, you're just no good at that, that's my gig. Let him off the hook a little. Then he shows me what he thinks is funny. And be warned this is NOT for the young audience. My husband, the man I chose to marry, had children with, and still have not divorced finds THIS amusing. Somebody explain this to me, (crickets, awkward silence....) yeah, me neither.

Good friends

I love my friends. I was asked why I wouldn't want to move back to our old town. Sure, I miss my old friends, my family, my thirty years of history in that place. But since we moved here, I have been less anxious. More appreciative of the amenities we enjoy. I have developed friendships and working relationships with people who only know my backstory if I share it with them. The kids love their schools, we are closer as a family without all the commute time, I love our house (even though it's old and drafty). Our street is friendly and quiet, our neighbors are kind and thoughtful, our friends are close by and dependable. In the nearly two years we have been here, I have grown in ways I wasn't aware I needed to while I was still in the womb of my hometown. Our family feels fuller, richer, stronger not necessarily because of where we moved, but because we moved and are developing different relationships. So thank you good friends. I dig you.

Censored

If you have wondered past our house this evening, I apologize for the string of expletives that were probably audible outside. A laundry list of annoyances took place this evening, but were topped off with the phone message from my primary doctor's nurse. I had called to make sure they had a referral on file before my appointment in MAY with a rheumatologist. This appointment was made over the summer and I just realized that there was no referral with my insurance company. The lovely young lady who took care of my request called to let me know that my appointment is now in FEBRUARY of 2009. The phone call I make tomorrow will be to verify that this May appointment has been knocked out of the field. Then I will cancel this crazy appointment and self medicate with all the chocolate in the free world. POST EASTER CANDY SALES--- WOOOO HOOOO!

Update: After a call to the rheumatologist's office, I confirmed that I DO still have an appointment in May. No need to call out the Quaker army Jenny.

News on the homefront

The big boy has survived his first couple of days on the job. I am sure a big portion of that is thanks to the free food that falls in his mouth. He gets along well with the people he works with (even after he was asked to scrub toilets!). We are very proud.

This afternoon, Daniel brought down his little green Bible that has only Psalms and Proverbs. He was indignant that his own name could not be found. I brought out the big Bible and showed him. He wanted to keep it and read it. I said sure. Then neighbor Jenny opened Pandora's box. Read aloud, she says. And he did. Very well.... until he came across "Jesus Christ". Let's just say in Daniel land it is pronounced "Crist". He was also heard to say ,"I have the BIG Bible. Oh yeah, baby!". And Eleanor was the humble recipient of Daniels castoff scripture. Grandma Sheila, beware! I sense much reading aloud in your future!

During these shenanigans, Aurelia was passed out in the recliner on one end of the couch bearing a close resemblance to a passed out hippie. After she woke up, there was much lip pursing and finger wagging. It was a transformation from passed out hippie to bossy old lady. Cory is in for a big treat when I send him as my stand in at her "mommy and me" dance class tomorrow night..... LOL. Oh the laughing, can't, stop, laughing......

Too legit, too legit to quit

So I finally have business cards. That can only mean one thing. It's time to chase Ted around the house and taunt him with my legitimacy. The conversation goes something like this:

Me: Um, do you have business cards?

Ted: No.

Me: Oh, well, can you read the name on this one? I believe it's mine!

Ted: um hum.

Me: (breaking out an MC Hammer move that will certainly land me in traction) I'm too legit, too legit to quit.....

Ted: (shaking head, concerned for my mental health) um hum

Give me a beat

I have realized that I need more music in my life. Last week, Ted and I went out driving around for my birthday and I realize how much I miss it. All the background music in my current life is kid related. I rarely get to hear full blown songs and even then they are not ones that catch me dancing. I love to hear things that make me smile, I love to watch things that make me smile, I love to laugh out loud---especially when it is totally not on purpose. I laugh alot every day. That's what I do, but sometimes I mean it more. Like when there is a mass on my chussetts. ***Grin****

Giggly goodness

The oldest boy Cory/Adam starts working at a local fast food chain this week. He also scored one of the leads in the musical at school. Yippee.



I have a friend who gave me a gift for my birthday. It was vanilla scented and I love it. I am so silky smooth and dewy fresh and smelly good. THANK YOU.



Her children gave me this:



Last night, Daniel couldn't decide what book to read before bedtime. (He is allowed to read until 8) I said "Read the Bible."
"I don't have time to read the whole Bible!"
"Then start with the first page..."
I forgot I said it and he didn't realize it was in jest, because I found him scaling his flimsy bookcase...searching for a Bible.



Aurelia was inspecting a bruise on her leg.
"It's a scwatch."
Me: It's just a bruise
A-dog: No, it gotted me like a lion and we have to wash it OFF!

Ebay goodies

I have been convinced that quilting is no longer for me. My hands just won't take it. So I am cleaning out the supply bin and listing everything on Ebay. If you are inclined to look (our username is worknclassbug) and see anything you are interested in, let me know. I take kindly to you local folk and might could hook you up!

The glorious DNA

This is a story I heard on This American Life over the weekend. It makes me thankful for DNA, ponder how certain I would be in the same circumstances, and sorry for the families that were involved. I know I am nothing but a depressing blogster lately, but I cannot avoid this human condition. It is all that swims in my tiny little head. Join me in being so so thankful for fingerprints, DNA, digital cameras and all the sweet niceties of today that would make this scenario difficult to recreate.

My attempt to be socially relevant

This morning Yahoo News had an article about a woman who lived in the bathroom and her skin grew to her toilet seat. The fire department had to bust the seat off the toilet so it could be transported to the hospital with her. Before I read the whole article, my instinct was to giggle because of the toilet seat. I am juvenile and thus have that kind of humor.

But after reading it, I felt a little sad. Because most people who read it will have that initial reaction.

Apparently, this lady was beaten as a child. Her mother passed away early in her life and whoever "raised" her kept her inside the majority of the time. Although she was living with her boyfriend of 16 years, this 35 year old woman decided the bathroom was a "safe place". That she would just hang out in there and continue her life from there for two years. The boyfriend said he tried to coax her out everyday and they continued to converse and carry on like normal, except in the bathroom.

There are so many reasons why we as people don't notice these things. We have busy lives. We have committments and deadlines and kids and jobs. But at some point this woman was an abused child. And it was allowed to go on. And no one stepped in and got her to a safe place. She had to create one in her bathroom at age 35. And it was an illusion. One that may have caused her to have an infection in her legs that damaged nerves that will cause her to be in a wheelchair.

This is what I would ask of us. Be aware. If you have a funny feeling about something, perk up and pay attention. And don't be reluctant to REPORT behavior and treatment that could cause a child to grow up and need a "safe place". The people who mistreat children in so many varied ways COUNT on people being disinterested, distracted, reluctant, and nervous about interfering. It's the only way they can continue to behave that way without fear of consequence.

In that vein, but with no pressure, there is a new class for potential volunteers in the CASA program that is set to begin March 25th. If you are interested in finding out more about the program or would like to participate, I will be happy to give you any information you need.

*clears throat and leaps off of soapbox*

Every day I wake up is a great day

Yesterday was my 33rd birthday and I thank all of you for the calls, cards, and general good vibes. I was able to spend the whole day driving around with my hubby having grownup conversations and pretending to be childfree. Dinner was wonderful and shared with two of the most decent, sweet, funny, loving, yet wily people I know. Thank you! They even told me I was beautiful last night, which I believed for the whole evening, most likely due to the daquiri I had with dinner. LOL. March is a big month for birthdays in my extended family and friend set, so a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to: Penny (kiss, kiss!), Robin, Dot (my little muffin), my brother, Shannon, and a kiss and hug to the big party in the sky for my Grandpa Charlie.

Internet Hijinx

Alrighty peeps. Here is a tale of the most bizarre thing I have ever had happen to me personally.

You may have recently seen my post about my childhood friend, Laura. I was excited because she was coming to town and I was going to see her again after a number of years. The time came and passed that she was to be in town. The dates she had sent me that she would be able to meet with me arrived and the phone never rang. I was concerned, but knew she was supposed to be visiting family and probably got tied up. I also figured she was a grownup who wasn't in any danger and didn't need me to track her down like a loon. So I sent her message and said I was sorry she hadn't had time to see me, that I missed her, but I understood. No response. I thought "Maybe she isn't back home yet. Maybe she will still call." But then the week passed. Her Myspace profile suddenly had shrunken type. She had logged on several times and I had sent a couple of messages, but she wasn't responding. I started to think I had misread something in our communications. Maybe I was supposed to pick her up and didn't. Maybe she was mad. Maybe she was a raving crackhead (the only excuse/reason I could come up with for a totally uncharacteristic behavior like this). Some tears were shed when I came to believe I had been blocked from her Myspace account. What had I done? What could be wrong?

So fast forward to today. I had recently registered on another networking site at the invitation of another friend and I got a message from guess who.... LAURA. Not just one, but several. None of them referenced the trip, my messages, anything. So I sent her a message explaining what I was confused about. And discovered the Myspace profile wasn't even her! She hadn't come to town to see family (which I had suspected, because she doesn't have any here).

I am left to wonder who would create a pseudo Laura site, contact two other friends from high school, fake a trip to town with flight info, and then give me the cold shoulder. Who would do that? More importantly, why would someone do that? I believe that whoever it was reads my blog. Some of the references wouldn't have been found on myspace (kids being ill and that sort of thing). And I don't link to this blog from there nor do I blog on myspace. SOOOOO....below is an open letter to the person who played this ridiculous prank:

Dear Poo-poo head,

You have way too much time on your hands. I am not sure what satisfaction this has given you, but I hope it has brightened your dim little life. Laura is aware of the fabrication now and I will be alerting the other friends who were fooled. If I had such immense time as yours to waste, I would try to figure out who you were so that I might beat you about the head and neck with a wet noodle. But I have a life to live. A real sweet humdinger of a life. One that keeps me busy and fulfilled and happy. So I will just write this off. Enjoy your jollies, but may I suggest you do it elsewhere. Thanks ever so much.

Adios gross,
Heather (the sane, based in reality, totally hip chickie you wish you could be ).

What I am reading...

Right Now.... The Used World by Haven Kimmel

Up Next... The Solace of Leaving Early by Haven Kimmel
The Next Big Thing by Johanna Edwards
The Garden Angel by Mindy Friddle
The Bitch Posse by Martha O'Connor

My dad's girlfriends celebrity twins

For those of you who do not remember, this picture was carried by my dad and he would show it to us and tell us it was his girlfriend when we were young. Talk about emotional scars. Anyway, I ran her (I use that pronoun so loosely) through the celebrity twin finder. These are the oh so startling results.

Here's what's shakin'

Really good news this week:

Cory got the lead in the musical he auditioned for.
Cory got the job he interviewed for.

Decent news:

I made cookies today.
Aurelia showed me a pretty picture she stenciled at school.
Daniel had Afterschool Enrichment this week.

Funny news:

When told the roof to their two story rental house was leaking, my mother inquired, "Downstairs?" (don't worry, I don't think she reads the blog, and if you are reading this, dear mother, it is funny!)

Ted had to help teach a pack full of second graders how to use and read a compass. Daniel apparently regarded the compass as a mystical object sent from space and the Holy Grail. He was riveted.

A day with Social Security

I have been trying for several weeks now to obtain a replacement card for my oldest son. He's ready to take his driver's exam and get a job and all that lovely stuff that takes ID. I had sent the application and what I thought would be the necessary information, only to have it returned not once, not twice, but SIX times for lack o' correctness.

So I gathered up all the things I needed, prepared to sign the child out of school, called the 800# at 8 :17 this morning (because the local office is only open from 9-4, very convenient for working people). I asked if the things I had would be acceptable. I was told they were. Traveled to the local office, took a number, had a seat.

Now we all know Aurelia a shy little thing (Heavy Sarcasm Alert). She announced that the woman she laid eyes on first was her "gwammmaw". She chatted it up with just about every person she saw. Then she turned to the woman she had been pestering for ten solid minutes, made a face, held her nose, and said ever so loudly, "Eww, you stink!" Why do I not think to carry the Duct Tape?

Our number was called, the info was reviewd and rejected out of hand. Almost as if that is standard procedure. It's amusing to me what they will accept as id and what they will turn away. I had his birth certificate and adoption decree... no go. But bring us his medical records or school records in a sealed envelope and we'll do the happy dance. So we traveled to the school. The gracious, kind lady at the desk had already printed off what I needed and highlighted his info. She handed them to me and I was forced to ask for an official seal and a sealed envelope. Again, she graciously complied.

Back to the SS office and take another number. This time Aurelia decides to comment on some younger men. "He's a monster". No volume control. Then a long diatribe on the poor elderly man in a wheelchair and why he needs to have wheels on his chair. When our number was finally called (and I should add we had a fairly short wait) the same woman who sent us away the first time was the one behind the window. I gave her the envelope and begged her to tell me this was the golden ticket. Pretty please. With sugar. Thanks.

So now I have a receipt! Yippee. And the card will come in 2-6 weeks. And it goes toward his lifetime limit of ten replacement cards. Surprised? Well this little adventure did enlighten me to the limit of three per year and a lifetime limit of ten! So find your card and stick it in a fireproof, thief resistant, waterless place and never, ever, ever misplace it. Or else.

Life is good.

Daniel had his friend Carter over today. This little boy has a little sister the same age as Aurelia and she came to play too. It was so entertaining to watch the boys sit six inches from each other and giggle as they "instant messaged" each other on their DS's. They messaged words like fart and poop and then fell into heaps of uncontrollable laughter.

Cory had an interview at a local fast food store. He was asked back for a second interview this weekend. Fingers crossed.

Aurelia did something very funny/disturbing that is never to be shared. (HI Jelly-filled, I will contribute to the therapy bill).

American Idol comes on tonight. What more can a girl want? (Besides the lovely dessert that I will eat whilst watching)

Night all.

The sweetness that is my Aurelia

When asked by her preschool teachers what she wanted to be when she grows up, Aurelia-Bedelia answered: "A mommy."

Following up at home, I asked her again.
Again, she responded: "A mommy."
I asked her, "What do mommies do?"
Aurelia: "They take care of we girls."
Me: "And what do I do for you?"
Aurelia: "Oatmeal!"

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We have been heavily emphasizing the "if it is not yours, don't bother it" philosophy lately. She must be catching on, because when I was caught red-handed using her brown crayon to make a shopping note for Ted I was told:

"WHAT you doin' wif my cwayon? Is it yours? Nooooooo. It bewongs to me. Now put it back."

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Upon learning that her preschool teacher was out ill, she told me a very detailed story about how poor Miss Polly has a leaf in her throat. For Miss Polly's sake, I hope this is not true.

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