Smile, you're on Candid Camera!

My daughter spent a little time in the basement with her daddy. He's been disassembling the transmission to our vintage VW Bug and she got a spot of transmission fluid on her finger. This is the snapshot that followed. :0)

So while she spends "quality" time with her daddy taking walks, painting, and flipping the bird, I have been reading. I am almost done with the third book in three days. They are all dismal with very little sunshine, but I feel almost like I did when I was little. Like I can't put the books down. I love that feeling.

Night all
Heather

Shed this outer layer and be free

My wish for my next life


If it is possible to have a next life, I wish to come back as something very flexible. Can I come back as wind? No obstacle would stand in my path; I would simply blow around it. How about a ribbon on the end of a child’s stick? I could fly through the air gracefully at the whim of a little one. I wouldn’t mind being clothes hung out to dry. The breeze and the sun on me as I bask in and absorb it all. Water, I could be water, with its fluid movement and the ability to wear down anything in my path given enough time.

Tonight I will dream I am these things. Tonight I will peek into a world with no restrictions, no limitations. Tonight, I fly, I bend, I flow!

Crying over spilled milk

I called birth to three about my daughters speech progress. I was making sure I was doing all I could to get our communication to it's highest level. The other day I was teasing her in the kitchen and telling her to give me "my" spoon. She kept saying 'mine' and then, apparently fed up, shook her head, placed the spoon behind her and said:

Don't take my poon.

Going to sleep last night she rolled over and said (while holding her chin),"MMMmmm, Lesseee."

I think she's coming along.

My son played at his friends house all day. He cried and hid when I came to get him. I even tried to bribe him with McD's. He said, " I wanna go to Toys R Us". Little shit.

So with Fazoli's and McD's in hand, I returned home.

I parceled out food while on the phone with my father-in-law. This entails trying to listen over the squeals and background noise of the poopers. I try to block it out. But the noise that prompted an end to our conversation was a pouring sort of sound. I looked all over the table, nothing. UNDER the table were the entire contents of a McD's regular milk jug.

I AM TIRED. But sleep comes less than two hours from now.

Night all.
Heather

Things Done Wrong Lately

No posts for days.

I labeled all the original Valentine's for the youngest boy with the name's of the recipients in the FROM box.

I bought a purse with Tinkerbell on it. Aurelia has confiscated it.

I bought a wallet to go with the purse. It turned out to be a cigarette case. (Lesson learned: don't shop with a two year old.)

A total lack of checking with truly loved family members.

There are a few things I may have done correctly:

I rebought AND relabeled Valentine's for the boy. He seemed to prefer the newer ones.

CASA volunteering.

Telling the kids I love them EVERYDAY.

Making time for myself.

And there are some decisions that remain to be categorized:

The decision to forego standard dress and try out custom made Indian (East, not Native American) attire. Something tame and modest. And not wedgie-riffic.

Deciding I think a hysterectomy is the most all encompassing solution to my simply annoying female issues.

Thoughts?
Heather

My dad's girlfriend

This is the picture my dad would pull out of his wallet. He would tell all the kids it was his girlfriend just to watch them scrunch their faces. It is actually a picture compiled of different peoples facial features. Notice the eyes are different. Anyway, this picture scared the hell out of me. But my dad was like that.

He hired my aunt to sniff the farts out of the seats of his car when she was little. He used to fart in church and say loudly "Oh Faye!" which never failed to mortify my mother. He is the worlds most notorious pull my finger man. But he came by it honestly.

My grandfather, my dad's father, would tell us we were Shinn kids. (This was an insult mixed occasionally with being a Myers (my mom's maiden name), a Wiseman, or a Bishop.) If we got hurt playing, he would furrow his brow and ask why we had hurt his buddy. But most unforgettable to me was EVERY Saturday night. I always spent Saturday night at their house. My brother had Fridays. Hee Haw was a Saturday night staple and there was a woman who wore rag curlers and a tattered moo-moo. My grandpa would always say my mom had dropped me off at their house to go to work (as the Hee- Haw woman). Now I knew he was pulling my leg, but my brother would get fired up!

Apparently, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I say things to my children (and other people's children) that are clearly in jest. But today my daughter was being evaluated by birth to three. The lady was showing some pictures and getting her to say the names of the pictures. Most responses were some unintelligible generic word and a few clear ones thrown in. Then I heard Aurelia say very clearly and quicly MOMMY. She wasn't looking at a woman's picture. It was a picture of ..............

a clown. That's my girl.

Heather

I think I need a shower

I have been exploring some ways to get a better nights sleep. We replaced the girl's single bed with a queen size mattress (plenty of room for mommy's fat arse.) I have been taking my medication like a good girl. And then I decided to go to the chiropractor. I asked my doctor for a suggestion, alas that one was not in my insurance network. So left to my own devices, I consulted the all knowing phone book.

No X-rays were taken, no real cracking took place. This doctor is a fan of the pretzel adjustment that I despise. She also pulled my ears to check my sinus something or other and knucklerubbed my clavicle. A little odd. Not to mention that her lipstick was noticeably outside the lines of her lips. By a lot.

From her "adjustment room" I was moved to a "massage room". Bobby was the man of the day in his convict scrubs and black steel toed boots. The room was ice cold and Bobby had the unsteady aura in his hands of teenage virgin. I came away smelling like massage lotion and feeling a little soiled. Let's be clear, I love massage therapy. I am totally for chiropractic care, but I am certain that there must be a standard to follow.

And after Friday's surprise vaginal ultrasound I am just a little too violated for any further strangeness.

Heather

Books rock

When I was a little girl, I loved to read. I loved to read in a way that was a little abnormal. No matter where I was, who was there, what was going on I would rather be reading. I didn't read a single type of book. I read anything that I could get my grubby paws on. Many books were beyond me, but I read them anyway. Some would have been snatched from my curious little grip if my mom had found them. Others were an introduction to what the world is really like outside of your comfortable home. One of my early favorites was a book called One Child by Torey Hayden. It was part of a collection of Reader's Digest condensed books at my grandmothers. Even this book was a little sugar coated. A little girl named Sheila was badly abused and in need of special education. Torey was a teacher in special education at that time. One part of the book describes how they read the book The Little Prince byAntoine de Saint Exupery. The taming of the fox was related to the taming of Sheila. I had never read the book, but it seemed a fitting tale.

Fast forward to this past week.

I have been reading a book to Daniel at bedtime. A few chapters a night. It's called The Little Prince. It didn't down on my feeble mind that this was THE book.
Last night we read the chapters that included the taming of the fox. I almost cried.

As I was reading, Daniel said, "Remember his volcanoes. They only come up to his knees." And they tell me he needs to work on comprehension. Pshaw. He needs to love what he is comprehending and he loves mommy time.

Since books work in circles for me, I have now reserved all of Torey Haydens books available through the library here. I plan to have Cory read them. It may also revisit that piece of me that has always wanted to get in the dogfight for kids.

Books used to be like Thanksgiving for me. I would just keep piling it in and never be full. I miss that feeling.

Night all.
Heather

Quotes from sweet babies

In the library today:

Miss Barbara sings: What is your name? My name is..... (laying her hand on little girls head)

Little Girl: FATBOY!

(Mother hides face, holding baby that little girl refers to as FATBOY)


Daniel: Oh, no, you will not put your big fat butt on me! (speaking to me)


During our play date, Miss Eleanor asked her mother: Mommy, can you come in here? Can you waddle around and be a hen?

and Aurelia's new catchphrase, performed with great facial animation and excitement:
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, babee, baaaabeeeeeee(==the last two babies being growled as she inches frighteningly close to my face while rolling her eyes into her head and doing jazz hands!)

Reasons my son cannot use the computer. AT ALL

Lots of people are willing to give you their two cents when it comes to how you are raising your children. I have tried to take most of it with a grain of salt, because how does anyone know how to deal with someone else's childrens quirks. But one rule I have for anyone under 18 in this house seems to garner much more spirited comments than the others (usually from my mother.) I don't allow my children on the computer. At all. I used to, but my oldest proved early on that he simply was not able to control the urge to see what was so great about forbidden content. Now, I don't operate under a constant fear that someone is plotting to steal or abuse my children, but I know that there is a chance it could happen. I know that no matter how much I tell them to be careful there are those out in the world that can convince them to do the exact opposite of what I have asked.

My oldest son is a strapping young lad. I can only give him a hug or get a kiss from him if he wants me to. I don't fear that someone will be able to overpower him. It just isn't likely. But they could outwit him. They could entice him.

So after watching the latest To Catch a Predator show from Dateline NBC, I will say again: My kids are not allowed on the computer. I know where the library is when assignments require encyclopedias and research. And should they be required to use the internet for some reason beyond my control, you had better bet your sweet patootie that I will be right over their shoulder and checking their cookies.

I mean for the love of Pete, you can buy these:

http://www.truck-nuts.com/index.html

What has the world come to?

Frankly

I have to be quite frank. Lately, I have been annoying myself. There has been an overuse of the word frankly in my vocabulary. I find my self saying things like:

Frankly, my dear Aurelia, I don't give a damn.
or
Daniel, I frankly cannot listen to another joke.
or
Cory I refuse to pick up your dirty underwear without a hazmat suit and a stick. Frankly.

Also, there has been an increase in Heather's need to reference herself in the third person.
When unable to make intelligible conversation, Heather points out that she is falling off of a mental cliff for lack of consistent sleep.

Frankly, Heather would like to know what you suggest she do about this problem!

A Better World

Last night I began training for a program called CASA. For those unfamiliar with it, CASA stands for court appointed special advocate. Volunteers are trained and appointed by a judge to represent the best interests of the child(ren) in abuse and neglect cases.

One of the most daunting statistics we learned last night is the sheer number of cases. There are too many cases in too many counties to give each one a volunteer. They just do not have enough to go around. While the children will have counsel to represent their interests, the system is overloaded. Social workers have 30-80 cases each. In a given month, they may be able to spend only two hours on a single case. They need the assistance to help find the best solutions for children that may otherwise slip through the cracks.

My social work studies are what brought me to know about this program. I know none of us really has "spare" time. But if you think you would like to make a difference I am going to link CASA's website on my sidebar.

My children drive me nuts, but at the end of the day I want them to know they are loved. I don't ever foresee my own children will experience anything close to the experiences of the children I will meet. But I would like to think that if they were in those circumstances there would be someone looking out for them.

Night all.
Heather

Oh that crazy uterus

I went to the doctor today. We agreed that many of my aches and pains may not improve until my sweet little monkey daughter gets older and tires of my constant presence. But we did discuss this pain that seems to come monthly and is enough to lift me out of my seat. Endimetriosis and fibroids are the suspected culprits. He suggested I talk to an OB/GYN about my options which spell out to this:

A) Take birth control pills that will cease the periods from coming.

Problem: My hair falls out on the pill last took and my husband would likely divorce me. I have been described as less than gentle and loving with those things in my system.

B) I could become pregnant.

Problem(s): Temporary solution with a long term result. I was just the other day saying if by some crazy way I had become pregnant, THEY (we do not know who they are) could not MAKE me keep it. I would just give it to Jenny. I clearly made the right decision when Ted got clipped.

C) I could have a hysterectomy.

Problem: Um, it's surgery. It's permanent (although the above solution was not a keeper either.) And my grandmother has had to have her innards jacked up and stitched THREE times since her hysterectomy. I dunno.

D) I could grin and bear it. (This option looks better and better.)


So I will go talk to this doctor and have this ultrasound and see what sounds the most reasonable. But I will feel better for the rest of the day knowing I apparently am better off in the health department than 90% of the people in the waiting room.

High School Meme

Fill this out about your YEARS of high school! The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be.
Who was your best friend?
There wasn't a best friend. I had a collection of friends that seemed like a single unit. Ah, the illusions of youth.

What kind of car did you drive?
I actually didn't try to get my license until I was 18.

It’s Friday night. Where were you?
Gail's, babysitting, or at home.

Were you a party animal?
Not by your standard party animal definition.


Were you considered a flirt?
My unfortunate nickname was "ho". :0(

Ever skip school?
Yes.

Were you a nerd?
By whose definition? I was certainly nerdy, but there were nerdier than I.

Did you get suspended/expelled?No.

Can you sing the fight song?
I can hum it.

Who was your favorite teacher?
Mr. Humphrey's

Favorite class?Mr. Humphrey's Algebra class


What was your school’s full name?
Herber Hoover High
School mascot?A pillager of sorts

Did you go to Prom?
Oh yes. And the dancing was grand.

If you could go back and do it over, would you?
No. I like who I am and where I have been. Even when it was wrong, rough, or painful, it's my life and you can't have it.

What do you remember most about graduation?
All the students stood and prayed because it had been forbidden by someone somewhere.

Who was your high school sweetheart?
Larry Eugene White, Jr.

Where were you on senior skip day?Sigh. In class.

Did you have a job your Senior year?
No.

Where did you go most often for lunch?The cafeteria. It was a closed campus.

Have you gained weight since then?
I weighed around 100lbs. then. I have had three children. There was no avoiding it.

What did you do after graduation?
Went to a hotel with my boyfriend/high school sweetheart. Sleeping was the only thing on the agenda though. Really. I swear.

When did you graduate?1993

Who was your Senior prom date?
Larry Eugene White, Jr.


Are you going to your 10yr class reunion?
I didn't go to any of the keggers described as reunion. I don't foresee that I will feel the need before I die either.

Who was your home room teacher?
Sweet Lord, I don't rememeber. EEEK

Who will repost this after you?
Dunno.

Crazy Kids

We had a snow day yesterday. Ted proclaimed it to be ridiculous (for our children yes, not so much for outlying schools). It gave me the chance to take some pictures and wonder at my children.

The style of the baby is to die for! She picked up her six year old brothers

silky green basketball shorts and put them on. They touch her ankles when she stands up. She added a lovely sweater and her new Alaskan looking houseboots to the mix. My daughter has apparently been watching episodes of Punky Brewster when I am not around!

Her thoughts on this --------->

Daniel has a very loose tooth. The new tooth is coming in behind it and pushing it forward. SO it just hangs there. He can shut his jaw and that tooth sits in front of the upper ones. It is very amusing! I believe we will have a visit from a certain dental fairy this week.

I have been watching the weather. I think tomorrow is safe for them to return to school. Yippee!

I hope those with the flu feel better soon and I really hope those without the flu don't get it. But either way keep those funky germs to yourself!! LOL

Night all

Heather

Angels Aplenty

These are my sweet little devils. The finished product after the picture date from hell. Believe it or not, this is the first and BEST picture the poor lady was able to capture before sliding off the table and nose picking commenced. Enjoy. It will be a full cycle round the sun before we attempt this again.

Mothering 101

To those of you unfamiliar with my parenting style, lets just call it unconventional. I believe in doing whatever seems like it will work in the moment. It may not be consistent long term, but it keeps the little trolls on their toes.

The oldest was reported absent to us by the automated system in his school. He claimed to have been ill during English. After an email exchange with said teacher it was discovered that he spent 18 minutes in the nurses office. Her class is 41 minutes long. HMMM.

She also shared that his grade for this six weeks is a startling 62%. Six missing assignments, no signed midterms (for points).

So I waited. He came home and was prepared for the standard disappointed look and lecture. But I made him sit on the floor and forbade him to use any term that was similar to "I don't know." He was going to be active in the conversation whether he liked it or not.

I laid out for him how his poor choices had kept him from some pretty cool stuff. I also added that if he thought for a single second that I was out of ideas to worsen his creature comfort level he was sadly mistaken. I would get him a weekly crew cut. I would throw out all his long socks and force him to wear the ultra low cut sports socks. I would give away all his marginally cool clothes and dress him in pink corduroy (he hates corduroy more than pink) and salmon shirts. There would only be secondhand shoes. Eating fast food would no longer be availabe to him (even if the family was having pizza).

On the flip side, I tried to highlight the many good things that could be accomplished by his smallest of efforts. He would be allowed out into the sun, to have friends over, to go to friends houses, attend functions, have a job, a learner's permit, dates. ETC ETC.

So the moral he should walk away with is this:\

Mommy loves you. Mommy wants good things for you. Mommy will help you anytime. But Mommy is not afraid to make the world she brought you into a place destitute of fun. Don't tempt Mommy. Mommy knows all.

Very humble don't you agree.:0)

Night all
Heather

Fire Prevention

There have been a number of fires in the past few months near our city. I would like to ask each of you that read my blog to take a couple of minutes to check the batteries in your smoke detectors, make sure you have enough of them, know where your fire extinguishers are in your home (and how to use them). I would also like you to think of escape routes and any difficulties you might encounter. I have small children and we will be purchasing some of the ladders that can be rolled up and stored (hopefully never to be used.)

Anyway, just as a favor to dear old me, take a few minutes out of your busy day to check you house out. I would also suggest that those with little ones try to get some of the decals from the fire departments that alert them which rooms the children are in. They just stick to the window. Easy breezy!

Thanks
heather

I dunno

I haven't the energy to give you my own thoughts, except to quote them from others.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, The courage to change the things I can, And the wisdom to know the difference."

Dear Lord, It's such a hectic day,
With little time to stop and pray,
For Life's been anything but calm,
Since You called me to be a Mom,
Running errands, matching socks,
Building dreams with matching blocks,
Cooking, cleaning, finding shoes,
And other stuff that children lose,
Fitting lids on bottled bugs,
Wiping tears and giving hugs,
A stack of last week's mail to read,
So where's the quiet time I need?
Yet, when I steal a moment, Lord,
Just at the sink or ironing board,
To ask the blessings of Your grace,
I see them, in my small one's face,
That you have blessed me
All the while --
And I stoop to kiss
That precious smile.
~~ Author Unknown ~~


When I look at a patch of dandelions, I see a bunch of weeds that are going to take over my yard.
My kids see flowers for Mom and blowing white fluff you can wish on.
When I look at an old drunk and he smiles at me, I see a smelly, dirty person who probably wants money and I look away.
My kids see someone smiling at them and they smile back.
When I hear music I love, I know I can't carry a tune and don't have much rhythm so I sit self consciously and listen.
My kids feel the beat and move to it. They sing out the words. If they don't know them, they make up their own.
When I feel wind on my face, I brace myself against it. I feel it messing up my hair and pulling me back when I walk.
My kids close their eyes, spread their arms and fly with it until they fall to the ground laughing.
When I pray I say Thee and Thou and grant me this, give me that.
My kids say, "Hi God!!! Thanks for my toys and my friends. Please keep the bad dreams away tonight. Sorry, I don't want to go to Heaven yet. I would miss my Mommy and Daddy."
When I see a mud puddle, I step around it. I see muddy shoes and clothes and dirty carpets.
My kids sit in it. They see dams to build, rivers to cross and worms to play with.
I wonder if we are given kids to teach or to learn from?
~~ Author Unknown ~~


The house is untidy from window to door, Marks on the walls and food on the floor.
The washing's unwashed and the dishes are too, There's scum in the bathroom And fat on the stew.
There are toys in the passage And under our feet; The garden's a jungle When seen from the street.
So what have I done, thenTo earn my repose? To just look around me You'd say no-one knows!
I've held a small hand As her first steps she took.
I've made animal noises As we read a book.
I've built a mud pie And admired a snail.
I've rescued the cat From a grip on her tail.
I've wiped away tears, And I've listened to tales.
I've used mediation To get smiles from wails.
So I guess what I've done Isn't easy to see -
It won't clean the house And it won't cook the tea.
But if I have helped make a child feel good, know that she's loved and that she's understood, then I know that my work, though not easy to see, is just as important as any could be.
~~ Author Unknown ~~

Come in, but don't expect to find All dishes done, all floors ashine.
Observe the crumgs and toys galore. The smudgy prints upon the door.
The little ones we shelter here Don't thrive on a spotless atmosphere.
They're more inclined to disarray And carefree even messy play.
Their needs are great, their patience small. All day I'm at their beck and call.
It's Mommy come! Mommy see! Wiggly worms and red scraped knees.
Painted pictures, blocks piled high. My floors unshined, the days go by.
Some future day they'll flee this nest, And I at last will have a rest!
Now you tell me which matters more, A happy child or a polished floor?
~~ Author Unknown ~~


Love is scaring away monsters in the middle of the night, then again at 1:00 a.m., 2:00 a.m., 3:00 a.m.
Love is putting peanut butter on anything as long as they'll eat it!
Love is knowing how to disguise vegetables 30 different ways.
Love is reading the same bedtime story for the 999th time.
Love is a hug around the knees.
Love is watching Mr. Rogers instead of All My Children.
Love is cutting off the crusts.
Love is a refrigerator covered with creative works of art.
Love is not grimacing through the dirtiest of diapers.
Love is trading in the Camero for a station wagon.
Love is the magic kiss that heals all owies.
Love is a cuddly kid in a blanket sleeper.
Love is the first kick, first smile, first laugh, first step, first anything.
Love is your child pointing to a picture of Christie Brinkley and saying "mama".
Love is your child sound asleep, any child sound asleep.
Love is a macaroni necklace.
Love is wearing the macaroni necklace to church with pride.
Love is a peanut butter kiss, a syrup kiss, a chocolate kiss, any kind of kiss.
Love is when Bert & Ernie replace Robert Redford & Tom Selleck as your most admired men.
Love is not worrying about those few extra pounds cuz they make you more cuddly.
Love is knowing how to get out amoxicillin stains.
Love is a bouquet of dandelions.
Love is the smell of a baby's neck.
Love is saying no at the right times when it is easier to say yes.
Love is saying yes at the right times when it's easier to say no.
~~ Author Unknown

and my personal favorite today

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray that my sanity to keep;
For if some peace I do not find, I'm pretty sure I'll lose my mind.
I pray I find a little quiet Far from the daily family riot;
May I lie back ... not have to think About what they're stuffing down the sink,
Or who they're with, or where they're at, And what they're doing to the cat.
I pray for time all to myself (Did something just fall off a shelf?)
To cuddle in my nice, soft bed (Oh no! Another goldfish ... dead!)
Some silent moments for goodness sake (Did I just hear a window break?)
And that I need not cook or clean ... (Well heck! I've got the right to dream!)
Yes, now I lay me down to sleep, I pray my wits about me keep;
But as I look around I know ... I must have lost them long ago!
~~ Author Unknown ~~

Stranger Danger

I will not beat the dead horse that is my daughters refusal to sleep. I will not speak of it again until I have fixed the problem.

In happier news, the boys that were found in MO made me very happy. Although they may have endured vile things at the hands of this man, they are now home with the families that loved and prayed for them every day they were gone. My mind keeps going back to the kid whose life was made into that movie "I know my first name is Stephen". His life ended tragically because of so much sadness, but he was a hero to the little boy that was taken when they decided to escape. His brother ended up killing women in the park where he worked. I hope these families are able to help the boys and shield them from prying eyes and insensitive media. None of us need to know what happened to them. They need to be allowed to deal with it and put it behind them.

I will certainly be updating my kids ID cards, fingerprints, photos and all my instructions on NEVER going with strangers and how to defend themselves.

Night all
Heather

To the victor go the spoils

This past week I have engaged in a full out war to get my sweet darling little girl to sleep by herself. I have cajoled, begged, bribed, threatened, ignored, and given serious thought to drugging her. I have purchased the inflatable sleeping bag bed because I felt like a horrible mother letting her sleep on the floor where she passed out. But the truth is, I concede victory to a 40 pound terrorist who just happens to live across the hall.

I will lie down with her. I will sleep in her bed. She can smell my hair. I will hang off the edge of a dangerously short twin bed (for a six foot plus mommy). If doing all of this means that I will in exchange be able to close my eyes, not hear her screaming, and even (dare I say it?) sleep for a precious few hours, then consider it done.

I am hoping that in the days, months, years to come her speech will develop and I will be more able to reason with her. Logic will become my friend. I will even welcome the day when I fall out of her favor for a friend or beloved toy. But I say that now, when I am sleep deprived and cranky.

Years from now, in the retirement home, I will reminisce about the sweet smell of her baby breath, her need to be close to her mommy, and how pretty they were when they were unconscious. All I can hope for is that I will get regular calls from the children I have given up my sanity for. That's all I'm askin kids, just call your mama.
Just don't call me when I am snoozin! :o)

Night all
Heather P.