Okay, so maybe thinking I would not be here soon was a little early, but I'm sure the day will come.
I started reviewing the syllabus for the ESL class and apparently the professor will return your paper if there are more than three punctuation or grammar mistakes. He does not tolerate tardiness of any kind. If you are late by 15 minutes to his class, he will count that against you and it is part of your grade. Of course, he was not there on the first day of class for an emergency, so I think he's liable to be graded himself. I thought I might drop his class because he seemed like a bit of a nazi, but then I started checking things through and the class is required for an ESL endorsement. I'm not likely to make tons of diction or punctuation mistakes, but I supposed it's possible. I was late to his first class to discover that indeed class was cancelled, though. I just had had problems getting out the door. I need to leave no later than noon for that class, just in case.
I figure, if I am going to get the ESL endorsement here, then I am stuck taking some of my coursework from him, so I better get used to him. *sigh*
I am so excited to do this. I am worried about the coursework I blew off indiscriminately at the UC 12 years ago. I had expected I would be dropped from all my classes and instead, they expected me to drop all my classes, my damned self. So I definitely have less than a 3.0 average. Yikes! The Uni here said I shouldn't worry, but of course, me being me, I am worrying profusely about it.
Of course, midway through all this, I am applying for scholarships. I keep reviewing the tax return and my finances and there is no doubt about it, we made way too much money last year and I am seriously doubting I am going to get any money given to me if financial need is a criterion. We could just really use the extra boost because we want to buy our house this summer. I could instead take some of Mike's stock option money and pay for grad school that way, but I'd rather buy a house! If I have to make that monthly payment regardless, it would be nice to be able to get credit for it!
On the house buying front, the houses are starting to look very Californian in prices around here. There's a town about a 45 minute drive from Mike's job that has cheap housing, but then it would be a 45 minute drive for him. We really want to live here, but the challenge is going to be a house large enough for our interests that is cheap enough for our budget. I saw an icky manufactured house with all of 1100 sq. feet on 1.3 acres that was $170K. For the same amount in this other town, we could get a brand new 1700 sq. foot house on an acre with really nice fixtures. I saw a slightly run down ranch house on just shy of an acre and they wanted $205K, just down the road from us. It was pretty damned depressing. I talked to the bank and they said that we shouldn't plan to buy anything over $200K and we need to have at least 5%. Mike may have a commute if we buy, that's all.
On the plus (maybe minus) front, I'm starting to lose weight again. I had put some of that winter poundage on, but I've been walking more and eating carefully and I can feel the difference. And in 10 short days, I start the Iditawalk again! Oh, to fit back in my clothes.
And I am giving up the illusion that I will be in a size 10, so I'm selling or donating all the clothes I have, which I have used to berate myself for gaining weight over the years. I'm sick of feeling lousy about myself for no good reason, and lord knows I could use the space. I will lose the weight I am supposed to in God's time and in the interim, I can give myself a damned break.
Friday, January 31, 2003
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Dear Friends,
I'm writing to let you know I'm not dead.
I have had a few days lately when I've been remembering when I wished I was. Suffice it to say, it involved a cattleprod, an hour of paralysis, a lot of fear and a lot of grief -- over something that happened nearly 20 years ago that I'd nearly forgotten. I'm doing okay, though, on this side of it and I've been praying for God to keep me safe and hold me in the light. He's great at doing that. Funny thing. And I'm healing from it just fine -- diabetes doesn't affect healing of the heart, thankfully.
I am not going to be here much for the next few weeks because I am filling out all my stuff for graduate school, scholarships, and the like, in addition to homework. I have a lot of it, too, I might add. It's astounding all in all.
I had my new professor essentially offer to write me a letter of recommendation for my application, which was kind of odd and cool. I said,"But you hardly know me." She said, "All I have to do is see how you write and I should be able to come back with a reasonable sense of how qualified you are to be a graduate student and write you a letter." I told her I think my letters will be enough alongside of my essay. And my son is going to write me a letter of recommendation. She thought that was cool.
What's neat about this is that for the first time in a eight months, I feel really qualified for something and totally on top of my game. I'm exercising again, too, and starting to take off the winter poundage. I feel good like a shiny-faced grad student should.
Pray for me and my aspirations, wouldja? Thanks. Talk to you all soon.
Love,
Ruby
I'm writing to let you know I'm not dead.
I have had a few days lately when I've been remembering when I wished I was. Suffice it to say, it involved a cattleprod, an hour of paralysis, a lot of fear and a lot of grief -- over something that happened nearly 20 years ago that I'd nearly forgotten. I'm doing okay, though, on this side of it and I've been praying for God to keep me safe and hold me in the light. He's great at doing that. Funny thing. And I'm healing from it just fine -- diabetes doesn't affect healing of the heart, thankfully.
I am not going to be here much for the next few weeks because I am filling out all my stuff for graduate school, scholarships, and the like, in addition to homework. I have a lot of it, too, I might add. It's astounding all in all.
I had my new professor essentially offer to write me a letter of recommendation for my application, which was kind of odd and cool. I said,"But you hardly know me." She said, "All I have to do is see how you write and I should be able to come back with a reasonable sense of how qualified you are to be a graduate student and write you a letter." I told her I think my letters will be enough alongside of my essay. And my son is going to write me a letter of recommendation. She thought that was cool.
What's neat about this is that for the first time in a eight months, I feel really qualified for something and totally on top of my game. I'm exercising again, too, and starting to take off the winter poundage. I feel good like a shiny-faced grad student should.
Pray for me and my aspirations, wouldja? Thanks. Talk to you all soon.
Love,
Ruby
Friday, January 24, 2003
I have never seen fog here and it's a complete white out pea soup mess out there this morning. I also have a lot of work to get done that I am avoiding.
The house is an unadulterated pit. I've been trying to run the vacuum for a week and it just hasn't been happening. The bedroom is a freaking health hazard. Mostly just piles of clothes, but ewwwww! And the boy has been mimicking mommy. He's been "cleaning his room" for close to a week. I told him that when I was a child, if I didn't clean my room, my mom went in and took everything out in garbage sacks and threw out whatever she felt like tossing. I told him I was damned close to doing the same thing because it was just too gross.
I guess I should clean my room, and thus, end the hypocrisy.
*sigh*
Examples to set, people to see, places to go.
And we figured out the money thing. Michael can only be at so much negative vacation time and then it becomes unpaid time. So he didn't get paid for 8 hours, which of course, we didn't and if we had, we'd have done something different time off -wise over the holiday.
Oh, shit! Genny's quiet -- gotta fly!
The house is an unadulterated pit. I've been trying to run the vacuum for a week and it just hasn't been happening. The bedroom is a freaking health hazard. Mostly just piles of clothes, but ewwwww! And the boy has been mimicking mommy. He's been "cleaning his room" for close to a week. I told him that when I was a child, if I didn't clean my room, my mom went in and took everything out in garbage sacks and threw out whatever she felt like tossing. I told him I was damned close to doing the same thing because it was just too gross.
I guess I should clean my room, and thus, end the hypocrisy.
*sigh*
Examples to set, people to see, places to go.
And we figured out the money thing. Michael can only be at so much negative vacation time and then it becomes unpaid time. So he didn't get paid for 8 hours, which of course, we didn't and if we had, we'd have done something different time off -wise over the holiday.
Oh, shit! Genny's quiet -- gotta fly!
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
I went to my first graduate class on Tuesday. I feel like such a grownup now. Part of the class is that we have to introduce ourselves and I was the only one in there that wasn't currently working in a teaching capacity. It was kind of a bummer, but when I explained my history and who I am more, they were all impressed, even if I still felt lowlier than them.
The first special education teacher in the state is in my class. Gack! I feel so old to be starting this.
But the class rocks, overall. We're doing self-study to see how we learn in order to develop strategies to help other learners. Neat, huh? I guess you had to be there. I think it's neat, but I also love Applejacks, so there's no accounting for taste.
I also have been noticing lately that my foot hurts. I kept thinking it was my shoes and then realized that no, it's the one I sprained. I am temporarily giving up my slide in clog shoes for the less attractive sneaker thang. The fashion police are going to ticket me or reward me for a fashion trend, however, dumpy 30-something women in tennis shoes seems unlikely as a future fashion trend, somehow.
Oh, and you'll notice that blogger finally removed the ads I paid to have removed 2 months ago. Bastards.
Oh, and I discovered how to make the most of my fireplace -- remove the front glass door thingies off. Makes the room toasty. My husband was rather surprised to learn that one can remove that thing and buy a fireplace screen for $30.
And money troubles have reared their ugly heads. I couldn't understand how we could possibly be under at the bank and then reviewed the deposits and Mike's check was short about $170. I asked him about it and surprise, surprise, he didn't put one day of work down there, so now, were Check N Go's biatches. But we don't have to pay until after we get contract money checks in. It just sucks because we are so damned tight after the holidays and wedding expenditures and now, we're even tighter.
*sigh*
In other bad news, Ladawn's husband left her last week. Claimed it was for stupid stuff -- but everything I've seen shows that he's got some kind of online whapadang going on, i.e., keyboarding net sexually and all. He's also screwed with the money badly, and I just am worried to pieces about her. I'm going to start bringing food to her with each paycheck, so she can use it for the daycare. She's not sure how she's going to get through, financially, so our rates may go up, which would suck big time, but would totally be understandable.
For us, it would be cool if I could get some substitute teaching work. I've got to spend $100 on the licensing though and that's going to be rough.
The first special education teacher in the state is in my class. Gack! I feel so old to be starting this.
But the class rocks, overall. We're doing self-study to see how we learn in order to develop strategies to help other learners. Neat, huh? I guess you had to be there. I think it's neat, but I also love Applejacks, so there's no accounting for taste.
I also have been noticing lately that my foot hurts. I kept thinking it was my shoes and then realized that no, it's the one I sprained. I am temporarily giving up my slide in clog shoes for the less attractive sneaker thang. The fashion police are going to ticket me or reward me for a fashion trend, however, dumpy 30-something women in tennis shoes seems unlikely as a future fashion trend, somehow.
Oh, and you'll notice that blogger finally removed the ads I paid to have removed 2 months ago. Bastards.
Oh, and I discovered how to make the most of my fireplace -- remove the front glass door thingies off. Makes the room toasty. My husband was rather surprised to learn that one can remove that thing and buy a fireplace screen for $30.
And money troubles have reared their ugly heads. I couldn't understand how we could possibly be under at the bank and then reviewed the deposits and Mike's check was short about $170. I asked him about it and surprise, surprise, he didn't put one day of work down there, so now, were Check N Go's biatches. But we don't have to pay until after we get contract money checks in. It just sucks because we are so damned tight after the holidays and wedding expenditures and now, we're even tighter.
*sigh*
In other bad news, Ladawn's husband left her last week. Claimed it was for stupid stuff -- but everything I've seen shows that he's got some kind of online whapadang going on, i.e., keyboarding net sexually and all. He's also screwed with the money badly, and I just am worried to pieces about her. I'm going to start bringing food to her with each paycheck, so she can use it for the daycare. She's not sure how she's going to get through, financially, so our rates may go up, which would suck big time, but would totally be understandable.
For us, it would be cool if I could get some substitute teaching work. I've got to spend $100 on the licensing though and that's going to be rough.
Monday, January 20, 2003
The essay saga continues.
I hate the essay. I know what I want to say. I want to say, look, I've been a special ed teacher the hard way for 9 years. I know the ins and outs and the shit no one's thought of in an IEP. I am damned good at knowing what needs to happen to get various services provided to a child. I know a lot of linguistics. I kick some serious ass.
I am not even sure how to explain away the teaching credential fiasco from the first time. I did not want to teach English, but rather English as a Second Language and I could not force myself, no matter how hard I tried to enjoy it. I fucking loathed it. I hated it. I hated lesson plans for it and considered it lower drudgery than cleaning cat vomit. Teaching English to high school kids at a school where gang shootings regularly occurred was terrifying and a totally hideous experience. Student teaching while flat broke and still recovering from a suicidal week in the hospital just 4 short months before was an insane undertaking on my part and is something I should have deferred for a year, at least. In fact, probably more like 12 years, actually.
I was trying to do the right thing, more than anything -- get out of school, get a job, and get on with my life.
However, despite all of these items, the thing I keep coming back to is that I love to teach. I love problem solving teaching. I love teaching English as a second language because I have to figure out how I am going to teach them to form their mouths correctly to utter the sounds they need or even how English might compare to their language and their culture. I love giving writing topics where a kid reveals something cool and interesting about their home life or culture. I love working with special ed because there's a success story at the end of it. There's a kid who has worked their butt off to reach for tangible successes, outlined in an IEP.
My son is a success story. The kid placed in the 90th percentile for math skills in our state. He's got good grades and he views scholastic successes gleefully and most of all, people can understand all the smart things he tells them that he knows, now. He knows what it means to work hard -- to go from severely speech handicapped to mildly handicapped and get somewhere and that is so amazing to me. I helped him. He helped me. We are becoming better people because of each other and I want to take the person I've become because of his hard work and help other people.
I guess *that* should be my essay.
I hate the essay. I know what I want to say. I want to say, look, I've been a special ed teacher the hard way for 9 years. I know the ins and outs and the shit no one's thought of in an IEP. I am damned good at knowing what needs to happen to get various services provided to a child. I know a lot of linguistics. I kick some serious ass.
I am not even sure how to explain away the teaching credential fiasco from the first time. I did not want to teach English, but rather English as a Second Language and I could not force myself, no matter how hard I tried to enjoy it. I fucking loathed it. I hated it. I hated lesson plans for it and considered it lower drudgery than cleaning cat vomit. Teaching English to high school kids at a school where gang shootings regularly occurred was terrifying and a totally hideous experience. Student teaching while flat broke and still recovering from a suicidal week in the hospital just 4 short months before was an insane undertaking on my part and is something I should have deferred for a year, at least. In fact, probably more like 12 years, actually.
I was trying to do the right thing, more than anything -- get out of school, get a job, and get on with my life.
However, despite all of these items, the thing I keep coming back to is that I love to teach. I love problem solving teaching. I love teaching English as a second language because I have to figure out how I am going to teach them to form their mouths correctly to utter the sounds they need or even how English might compare to their language and their culture. I love giving writing topics where a kid reveals something cool and interesting about their home life or culture. I love working with special ed because there's a success story at the end of it. There's a kid who has worked their butt off to reach for tangible successes, outlined in an IEP.
My son is a success story. The kid placed in the 90th percentile for math skills in our state. He's got good grades and he views scholastic successes gleefully and most of all, people can understand all the smart things he tells them that he knows, now. He knows what it means to work hard -- to go from severely speech handicapped to mildly handicapped and get somewhere and that is so amazing to me. I helped him. He helped me. We are becoming better people because of each other and I want to take the person I've become because of his hard work and help other people.
I guess *that* should be my essay.
Thursday, January 16, 2003
What kind of raving lunatic am I? Yeesh, I forgot how much of a gigantic pain in the ass applying for graduate school is. I've been to a grand sum total of 5 schools -- two community colleges just to take a few classes since I graduated, which means I have 5 sets of 2 transcripts each to order and pay for. UC is making me request my undergrad and grad transcripts separately and pay for them! Each school has its own peculiar ritual for getting transcripts, too. There ought to be a Discovery Channel show on the bizarre and unusual weirdnesses associated with each school's transcripts procurement process.
I sent off 3 out of 5 transcript requests with accompanying checks today. I started tearing apart boxes to find my CBEST score and instead, I found old transcripts. That's good though because now I can fill out my graduate application which requests that I figure out my cumulative GPA, and now, I don't have to pay to get transcripts sent to me. The only transcript I don't think I can get my hands on is my graduate transcript, so I may have to fax them my visa for it. I didn't find my CBest, but I did find the form I filled out for the CBest to take the damned test originally, so at least I have a date. I downloaded the necessary form for a copy of my test score to be sent to me and filled it out and then discovered that they require a money order or cashier's check. Much cussing ensued upon reading that, but I'll live.
I started my essay today. You know the essay. It's the one that all students historically torture themselves over until their hair falls out in clumps. I have 2 pages in which to explain the last 12 years of my life and it hardly seems sufficient or right. I guess if I have 12 years to cover, I feel like I should be able to use a page a year, you know? Mostly, I am writing about my experience in raising Russell. I explain that I was drummed out of the credential program. I am debating how much to tell. I don't want to go the TMI (too much information) route, but I also don't want to omit that I was hospitalized only a few months before I started the credential program in a credential area I did not want to teach in (in order to get to teach in the area that I did) and that I was student teaching in a school that had regular gang shootings.
I have the option of using my editor when I get the thing to a semi-finished place and making him help me make it pretty. I got one reference letter asked today and a message to the other person I had in mind. I am unsure about the other person because she was Russell's teacher, but she was with me at several IEP meetings over two years and she supported me in getting him the help I sought for him, so I think she has a good idea of my capacities and willingness to go to the mat for a kid. Ladawn would also write me a letter if I asked. I've been thinking about asking Russell, too. He knows more about my abilities as a teacher and my knowledge of special ed probably than anyone short of Mike, of course, asking my kid might be considered a cheap shot, too. I don't know.
I walked for about 45 minutes today. I plopped Genny in the stroller after lunch and then hauled my big fat butt all over the hillside behind our house. I found a new route and it had a lot of uphill and at the end, it had a blessed, albeit small downhill. Genny fell asleep in the stroller about 10 minutes from home and I unraveled her from her jacket, dolly, and sneakers and plopped her in her bed. Tomorrow, I have her all day, but I think in the morning, we'll be going to Costco and laying in supplies and then I'll stick her in bed and unpack all that crap, do some more quilting and probably take a snooze. I've got hill butt tonight, but I feel pretty good, so I don't really care. I was bummed at how huffin' and puffin' I was, but it's a start and I'll take that.
There's other stuff, too, but Genny keeps wanting "Uppy," so I'm off to find a comfortable chair for my baby girl with the runny nose, who got her flu shot yesterday, until Daddy and Bear get back from Cubscouts.
I sent off 3 out of 5 transcript requests with accompanying checks today. I started tearing apart boxes to find my CBEST score and instead, I found old transcripts. That's good though because now I can fill out my graduate application which requests that I figure out my cumulative GPA, and now, I don't have to pay to get transcripts sent to me. The only transcript I don't think I can get my hands on is my graduate transcript, so I may have to fax them my visa for it. I didn't find my CBest, but I did find the form I filled out for the CBest to take the damned test originally, so at least I have a date. I downloaded the necessary form for a copy of my test score to be sent to me and filled it out and then discovered that they require a money order or cashier's check. Much cussing ensued upon reading that, but I'll live.
I started my essay today. You know the essay. It's the one that all students historically torture themselves over until their hair falls out in clumps. I have 2 pages in which to explain the last 12 years of my life and it hardly seems sufficient or right. I guess if I have 12 years to cover, I feel like I should be able to use a page a year, you know? Mostly, I am writing about my experience in raising Russell. I explain that I was drummed out of the credential program. I am debating how much to tell. I don't want to go the TMI (too much information) route, but I also don't want to omit that I was hospitalized only a few months before I started the credential program in a credential area I did not want to teach in (in order to get to teach in the area that I did) and that I was student teaching in a school that had regular gang shootings.
I have the option of using my editor when I get the thing to a semi-finished place and making him help me make it pretty. I got one reference letter asked today and a message to the other person I had in mind. I am unsure about the other person because she was Russell's teacher, but she was with me at several IEP meetings over two years and she supported me in getting him the help I sought for him, so I think she has a good idea of my capacities and willingness to go to the mat for a kid. Ladawn would also write me a letter if I asked. I've been thinking about asking Russell, too. He knows more about my abilities as a teacher and my knowledge of special ed probably than anyone short of Mike, of course, asking my kid might be considered a cheap shot, too. I don't know.
I walked for about 45 minutes today. I plopped Genny in the stroller after lunch and then hauled my big fat butt all over the hillside behind our house. I found a new route and it had a lot of uphill and at the end, it had a blessed, albeit small downhill. Genny fell asleep in the stroller about 10 minutes from home and I unraveled her from her jacket, dolly, and sneakers and plopped her in her bed. Tomorrow, I have her all day, but I think in the morning, we'll be going to Costco and laying in supplies and then I'll stick her in bed and unpack all that crap, do some more quilting and probably take a snooze. I've got hill butt tonight, but I feel pretty good, so I don't really care. I was bummed at how huffin' and puffin' I was, but it's a start and I'll take that.
There's other stuff, too, but Genny keeps wanting "Uppy," so I'm off to find a comfortable chair for my baby girl with the runny nose, who got her flu shot yesterday, until Daddy and Bear get back from Cubscouts.
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
Yesterday, I went to the university to officially gain admission and see about registering for classes. I was pissed off about how old I felt while I was there. All of these petite young things and super young guys. Several times, the phrase,"I'm old enough to be your mother came to mind." I found that disconcerting and uncomfortable. People were nice though, so it was not that bad, but it makes me nervous for my classes. Does age make you a better student? I remember being somewhat intimidated by the older students because they were smarter than everyone else and me. Am I going to have to live up to a lot?
I am also looking into what will it take to get non-income contingent financial aid. I know that there are several scholarships available and I am pretty sure I can write a bitchin' application letter for said scholarship applications, too. It would just be nice to not be entirely self-funded. While the tuition isn't bad, the ability to not have to pay $500/semester for it, would be a welcome financial relief, especially next fall when I won't be working and we won't have contract money, etc. We can get by, but just getting by will suck.
Hopefully, Mike's bonuses will continue to be really good and will help us get through. I also have to get that substitute credential thing going, too. I have to download the forms for that and pull money out of our asses so I can pay for it all. It'll be $200, so it probably won't be until next month. For whatever reason, next month, we have money. *shrug*
I think it's because I blew every extra penny we had on my ungrateful in-laws. No, I'm not bitter.
I am also looking into what will it take to get non-income contingent financial aid. I know that there are several scholarships available and I am pretty sure I can write a bitchin' application letter for said scholarship applications, too. It would just be nice to not be entirely self-funded. While the tuition isn't bad, the ability to not have to pay $500/semester for it, would be a welcome financial relief, especially next fall when I won't be working and we won't have contract money, etc. We can get by, but just getting by will suck.
Hopefully, Mike's bonuses will continue to be really good and will help us get through. I also have to get that substitute credential thing going, too. I have to download the forms for that and pull money out of our asses so I can pay for it all. It'll be $200, so it probably won't be until next month. For whatever reason, next month, we have money. *shrug*
I think it's because I blew every extra penny we had on my ungrateful in-laws. No, I'm not bitter.
Sunday, January 12, 2003
I've been doing a lot of handquilting. I know I could run it on the machine, but I like hand quilting and I like who I'm making it for, so it's a labor of love. (CS) I am sending out a care package for CS this week because I love her and because she needs some post-partum TLC. I've gotten a lot of the quilting done and I'm having the best time inventing my own designs and quilting them in there. I wish I had some more design stencils to play with, but I starting inventing things with the stencils I have and I invented some stuff just for fun. I think I understand the whole fun of quilting thing now and it's not the piecing, which is what I suspected to begin with.
You know you're turning redneck when...
You drag your poor unsuspecting family to the auto show.
Well, Mike is so damned tall at 6'7" that finding a car that he can fit into comfortably is a big challenge, usually involving much whining and several car lots and a lot of bitching by all. So we dragged him through a buttload of cars with kids testing out the leg room behind. Genny was stumbling tired behind us working feverishly to put herself into the other side of every car we tried, which meant of course, that I was circling around different ends of the car, trying to keep track of her and ask Mike his opinion of the car he was in, simultaneously. We narrowed it down to a Honda Odyssey, a Chevy Tahoe, a Chevy Malibu, and a Saturn Vue. The problem that we ran into with most of these cars is that most of them have a center island, due to the bucket seat thing, so we'll actually have to go to a dealership and see if we can get rid of that feature and fit him in there. A Taurus wagon also fit Mike really well, but the legroom behind him was pretty rugged on kids.
The other thing we were looking at was gas mileage because Mike is going to use this car as a commuting vehicle, so whatever we get ought to get reasonable gas mileage for that commute. Of course, Mike's solution was that we should move really close to his work (the housing there is REALLY expensive) and then we could skip buying a second car and just get a nice house. But then we'd be living in a town I'd rather not live in because the schools suck for the kids.
We've been eyeing over this house down the road from us which we could totally afford -- mostly because it needs a lot of work. The actual buying of it is months off, though and the asking price is steep for what you get, so I need to see if I can do some title searching and figure out how much the guy paid for the place and offer him something reasonable between his super high asking price and what he paid for it. No one has bought it and everyone I've talked to has said he's asking way the hell too much for it. It needs a lot of TLC -- serious redecorating inside -- it has a room that is bright purple and orange because of a previous Phoenix Suns fan, another room that is black and white stripes with a mirrored closet that looks like a prison and a kitchen that has been painted two pale shades of pink, mint green, and then the faces on the drawers were left as their natural wood color. And no, I don't understand what possessed who. There's also the front room, which would have to have the half wall ripped down that separates the dining area from the livingroom area because it breaks up an already limited and small space. Of course the dining area is carpeted, so I'd have to pull that out, eventually and the carpet in the family room area is truly horrid, and would also need to be pulled. The family room area has a fireplace and adjoins the kitchen, so I'd probably just put down a tile floor in there to keep it cool in the summer and the drop an area rug for winter, with the idea that if we run the fireplace, the stone floor will retain heat. I would also initially either repaint/refinish the cupboards in the kitchen or I'd replace them with something nice.
The yard of this place is also thrashed. The deck out back needs to be treated or painted or something. It's all wood and just basically stripped. The yard front and back has marginal landscaping, so yes, when I got through with it, it wouldn't know what hit it. The house is close to a busy road, so I'd have to put up some bushes and trees for screening out street noise and I'd have to make sure the house was well-insulated, so we weren't feeling like trucks were driving through the house. Apple trees grow well here, as long as we don't have late freezes and they're short enough to where they'd soak up the noise, provide a screen and add value. I took Mike by this house yesterday and he could see the possibilities with me and while it's not my first choice in a house and and not even like the brand spanking new ones of the area we look at a few months ago, it'd keep Russell in the same school district, we'd retain our neighbors and friends, and we'd still have the same astounding view. The house would gain equity quickly because of the area we are in and would allow me to pay off my student loans in short order, which would allow us to consider buying a much more expensive house in a couple years, and I'd have my loans paid off that much faster. And with the loans, because so much of them is interest, at some point, I'd get an amazing tax break because of all of the interest that we'd pay off.
And ultimately, I'd have a lot of fun working on this house. I have enjoyed living in each of the houses we've rented because each house has allowed me to fix things up and add a lot and come into my own in each room. Genny's room has a Winnie-The-Pooh theme going -- I even made her curtains. I've still got some Beatrix Potter stuff, but I'm slowly phasing that out for Pooh, which Genny loves. Russell has a space theme working in his room. He's got a combination of Star Wars and Harry Potter, so we've got stars and moons and planets in his room, including on curtains he picked out fabric for and I've got a HP quilt I'll be working on for him this summer, probably for his birthday. The kitchen is a chile pepper haven -- chiles of all kinds adorn it and the dining area is kind of ethnic, and our livingroom is as always, stars and moons. I bought different carpets for the livingroom and I made curtains, pillow and futon covers that reflect the stars and moons, and I have a lot of star wars stuff in there, too. We've got our cardboard cutout of Bobafet, a framed mosaic poster of yoda & Darth, and soon we'll have Mike's old star wars poster framed up. Our bedroom is kind of the nature palace. I've got Moose stuff for Mike, wild bird curtains, wildflower posters, moose bed spread and sheets, and something that may not entirely fit, but that we both like a small poster of Gustav Klimt's, "The Kiss." I'd seen it on someone else's website and loved it and Mike knew how much I liked it and saw the poster at a student union poster show at school and brought it home for me. It has a natural feel to it, however, so it works for me. It also symbolizes how I feel when I'm with Mike, I guess...protected, cherished and always always kissed. In our house, it hangs appropriately, over our bed.
You know you're turning redneck when...
You drag your poor unsuspecting family to the auto show.
Well, Mike is so damned tall at 6'7" that finding a car that he can fit into comfortably is a big challenge, usually involving much whining and several car lots and a lot of bitching by all. So we dragged him through a buttload of cars with kids testing out the leg room behind. Genny was stumbling tired behind us working feverishly to put herself into the other side of every car we tried, which meant of course, that I was circling around different ends of the car, trying to keep track of her and ask Mike his opinion of the car he was in, simultaneously. We narrowed it down to a Honda Odyssey, a Chevy Tahoe, a Chevy Malibu, and a Saturn Vue. The problem that we ran into with most of these cars is that most of them have a center island, due to the bucket seat thing, so we'll actually have to go to a dealership and see if we can get rid of that feature and fit him in there. A Taurus wagon also fit Mike really well, but the legroom behind him was pretty rugged on kids.
The other thing we were looking at was gas mileage because Mike is going to use this car as a commuting vehicle, so whatever we get ought to get reasonable gas mileage for that commute. Of course, Mike's solution was that we should move really close to his work (the housing there is REALLY expensive) and then we could skip buying a second car and just get a nice house. But then we'd be living in a town I'd rather not live in because the schools suck for the kids.
We've been eyeing over this house down the road from us which we could totally afford -- mostly because it needs a lot of work. The actual buying of it is months off, though and the asking price is steep for what you get, so I need to see if I can do some title searching and figure out how much the guy paid for the place and offer him something reasonable between his super high asking price and what he paid for it. No one has bought it and everyone I've talked to has said he's asking way the hell too much for it. It needs a lot of TLC -- serious redecorating inside -- it has a room that is bright purple and orange because of a previous Phoenix Suns fan, another room that is black and white stripes with a mirrored closet that looks like a prison and a kitchen that has been painted two pale shades of pink, mint green, and then the faces on the drawers were left as their natural wood color. And no, I don't understand what possessed who. There's also the front room, which would have to have the half wall ripped down that separates the dining area from the livingroom area because it breaks up an already limited and small space. Of course the dining area is carpeted, so I'd have to pull that out, eventually and the carpet in the family room area is truly horrid, and would also need to be pulled. The family room area has a fireplace and adjoins the kitchen, so I'd probably just put down a tile floor in there to keep it cool in the summer and the drop an area rug for winter, with the idea that if we run the fireplace, the stone floor will retain heat. I would also initially either repaint/refinish the cupboards in the kitchen or I'd replace them with something nice.
The yard of this place is also thrashed. The deck out back needs to be treated or painted or something. It's all wood and just basically stripped. The yard front and back has marginal landscaping, so yes, when I got through with it, it wouldn't know what hit it. The house is close to a busy road, so I'd have to put up some bushes and trees for screening out street noise and I'd have to make sure the house was well-insulated, so we weren't feeling like trucks were driving through the house. Apple trees grow well here, as long as we don't have late freezes and they're short enough to where they'd soak up the noise, provide a screen and add value. I took Mike by this house yesterday and he could see the possibilities with me and while it's not my first choice in a house and and not even like the brand spanking new ones of the area we look at a few months ago, it'd keep Russell in the same school district, we'd retain our neighbors and friends, and we'd still have the same astounding view. The house would gain equity quickly because of the area we are in and would allow me to pay off my student loans in short order, which would allow us to consider buying a much more expensive house in a couple years, and I'd have my loans paid off that much faster. And with the loans, because so much of them is interest, at some point, I'd get an amazing tax break because of all of the interest that we'd pay off.
And ultimately, I'd have a lot of fun working on this house. I have enjoyed living in each of the houses we've rented because each house has allowed me to fix things up and add a lot and come into my own in each room. Genny's room has a Winnie-The-Pooh theme going -- I even made her curtains. I've still got some Beatrix Potter stuff, but I'm slowly phasing that out for Pooh, which Genny loves. Russell has a space theme working in his room. He's got a combination of Star Wars and Harry Potter, so we've got stars and moons and planets in his room, including on curtains he picked out fabric for and I've got a HP quilt I'll be working on for him this summer, probably for his birthday. The kitchen is a chile pepper haven -- chiles of all kinds adorn it and the dining area is kind of ethnic, and our livingroom is as always, stars and moons. I bought different carpets for the livingroom and I made curtains, pillow and futon covers that reflect the stars and moons, and I have a lot of star wars stuff in there, too. We've got our cardboard cutout of Bobafet, a framed mosaic poster of yoda & Darth, and soon we'll have Mike's old star wars poster framed up. Our bedroom is kind of the nature palace. I've got Moose stuff for Mike, wild bird curtains, wildflower posters, moose bed spread and sheets, and something that may not entirely fit, but that we both like a small poster of Gustav Klimt's, "The Kiss." I'd seen it on someone else's website and loved it and Mike knew how much I liked it and saw the poster at a student union poster show at school and brought it home for me. It has a natural feel to it, however, so it works for me. It also symbolizes how I feel when I'm with Mike, I guess...protected, cherished and always always kissed. In our house, it hangs appropriately, over our bed.
Thursday, January 09, 2003
Lately, my arthritis about kills me. My hands feel like they're burning up. You'd think that would feel comforting, but it so limits my range of motion in my fingers that it's rather debilitating instead. I find grabbing a needle for quilting requires several tries and a lot of concentration.
Today was a good day overall. I had Genny all day today and it was pretty good. She's so self-contained. She plays with her dollies and we talk while she does that. She tells me stuff and asks for help with things, but I kind of do my stuff in parallel with her play. I periodically pull the bathroom addict out of her favorite room to play in, where she jubilantly yells down the hall to me things that instill fear like,"Soap!" and "Towel!" I scurry down the hall to find her and remove her from her beloved bathroom and put the soap where it's harder to reach and use the towel to dry her off from her latest foray into wet play.
I took her shopping today and she was smacking bags of chips as we went down the aisle, yelling,"CHIPS!" I would move her an extra inch or so away and tried to pick my tortillas out quickly and bolt. That only made her try harder to smack the chips. Nonetheless, if you find broken chips in your bag and you pulled your bag from the front of the rack, it was probably because my daughter or another little kid smacked them and broke them for the satisfying sound it made.
I made a list of crap I should get done. It's formidable, and I don't know that I'll get it all done, but having the list was rather satisfying because as I worked on things around the house today, I realized that I was getting to some of the junk on my list. I actually got all the Christmas stuff done, but then realize that there's still a substantial string of lights on the sagebrush out front and then I found a half dozen little things I missed. I hate it when that happens.
I did weird things today like trim all the box tops coupon things for the school. It was kind of anal retentive and I hesitate to mention it, but it seems like an infernal waste of money if it give someone else money to take a chunk of cardboard off something you already buy NOT to cut the damned things out and trim them. It also seems like a ridiculous thing to have to do. I'm almost tempted to start sending in $10 a semester as donation because it'd probably amount to more than the stupid box tops. I remember saving box tops for things like a square record. Hell, if I could find that stupid square record, I'd probably be a freakin' millionaire.
I had my friend and long-time editor today tell me I should write about my travels and adventures and life adventures in memoir format. I kind of cringed at the thought because it seems so self-indulgent that someone so ordinary should write memoirs. I was thinking of Ruby fun facts though and thought, maybe I could start with that because those seem less ordinary.
Fun fact #1: I traveled all over the west and slept with a lot of strangers out of boredom/loneliness, while camping out of my truck. I carried nice clothes and an iron for working, so I could work in an office. I used to wash my hair and clean up in gas station restrooms.
Fun fact #2: I have worked for ski resorts on both coasts as a lift operator, soley for the purpose of being a ski bum with income.
Fun fact #3: I worked on a Wilderness Crew one year in Oregon, where I restored lakeside trails and habitat. We had to get special permission to use a wheelbarrow.
Fun fact #4: I learned Microsoft Word when it was a DOS program and no one had heard of it.
Fun fact #5: I had a horse when I was kid named Bay Mar. She slipped the saddle the first time I rode her and then gingerly stepped over my prone body.
Fun fact #6: When I was 19 and cute, I tried out for amature night at a stripper club because the winning purse was $100 and I needed the money. I got $10 stuck in my underwear and thought I'd done okay. (Side note: Band-aids suck for pasties.)
I think I need to start reading Tom Robbins again -- Still Life with Woodpecker, etc. And I think I might need a road trip.
Today was a good day overall. I had Genny all day today and it was pretty good. She's so self-contained. She plays with her dollies and we talk while she does that. She tells me stuff and asks for help with things, but I kind of do my stuff in parallel with her play. I periodically pull the bathroom addict out of her favorite room to play in, where she jubilantly yells down the hall to me things that instill fear like,"Soap!" and "Towel!" I scurry down the hall to find her and remove her from her beloved bathroom and put the soap where it's harder to reach and use the towel to dry her off from her latest foray into wet play.
I took her shopping today and she was smacking bags of chips as we went down the aisle, yelling,"CHIPS!" I would move her an extra inch or so away and tried to pick my tortillas out quickly and bolt. That only made her try harder to smack the chips. Nonetheless, if you find broken chips in your bag and you pulled your bag from the front of the rack, it was probably because my daughter or another little kid smacked them and broke them for the satisfying sound it made.
I made a list of crap I should get done. It's formidable, and I don't know that I'll get it all done, but having the list was rather satisfying because as I worked on things around the house today, I realized that I was getting to some of the junk on my list. I actually got all the Christmas stuff done, but then realize that there's still a substantial string of lights on the sagebrush out front and then I found a half dozen little things I missed. I hate it when that happens.
I did weird things today like trim all the box tops coupon things for the school. It was kind of anal retentive and I hesitate to mention it, but it seems like an infernal waste of money if it give someone else money to take a chunk of cardboard off something you already buy NOT to cut the damned things out and trim them. It also seems like a ridiculous thing to have to do. I'm almost tempted to start sending in $10 a semester as donation because it'd probably amount to more than the stupid box tops. I remember saving box tops for things like a square record. Hell, if I could find that stupid square record, I'd probably be a freakin' millionaire.
I had my friend and long-time editor today tell me I should write about my travels and adventures and life adventures in memoir format. I kind of cringed at the thought because it seems so self-indulgent that someone so ordinary should write memoirs. I was thinking of Ruby fun facts though and thought, maybe I could start with that because those seem less ordinary.
Fun fact #1: I traveled all over the west and slept with a lot of strangers out of boredom/loneliness, while camping out of my truck. I carried nice clothes and an iron for working, so I could work in an office. I used to wash my hair and clean up in gas station restrooms.
Fun fact #2: I have worked for ski resorts on both coasts as a lift operator, soley for the purpose of being a ski bum with income.
Fun fact #3: I worked on a Wilderness Crew one year in Oregon, where I restored lakeside trails and habitat. We had to get special permission to use a wheelbarrow.
Fun fact #4: I learned Microsoft Word when it was a DOS program and no one had heard of it.
Fun fact #5: I had a horse when I was kid named Bay Mar. She slipped the saddle the first time I rode her and then gingerly stepped over my prone body.
Fun fact #6: When I was 19 and cute, I tried out for amature night at a stripper club because the winning purse was $100 and I needed the money. I got $10 stuck in my underwear and thought I'd done okay. (Side note: Band-aids suck for pasties.)
I think I need to start reading Tom Robbins again -- Still Life with Woodpecker, etc. And I think I might need a road trip.
Wednesday, January 08, 2003
I've been getting a lot of housework done. I'm still up to my ass in quilts to finish, but this too shall pass. A quilt that Mike's mom had started for Genevieve and never finished was given to me to finish. It's one of those quilts I should have done by the time Genny is 18 because it's a gigantic pain in the ass. I figure if I can get the center of it done and then add strips around it, it should be a nice bed quilt for her later. I've got to finish the two I'm still working on, but I'm dangerously close to mailing CS's out for Katen because it's getting there so well.
I've had Genny at daycare for the past few days while I get caught up on stuff from the trip, like laundry, dishes, Christmas put-away, and stuff like that. We were sweeping the carpet last night to get the worst of the needles up, so I won't choke the vacuum today. I've actually made paths in our bedroom, so we can get around the damned bed and I've got most of the bags unpacked and put away. I also called my husband and invited him home for a nooner. I was told I should extend that invitation more often.
Oh, afternoon delight.
I'm feeling overwhelmed by the amount of crud I've got in this house in stacks here and there and God, I need a calendar. I'm getting that Mom's Family Calendar by S. Boynton because honestly, it saved our familial butts last year knowing who was going where and when.
And because Ladawn told me it's a good idea to pray for the people who piss you off, I've prayed for my parents-in-law. I've also prayed for the wisdom to handle the situation appropriately and for serenity regarding all things.
My ankle was pretty healed yesterday. I did a lot and it didn't swell a bit, so I think that day of laying around with my feet up on Monday was a very good thing. I just have to figure out what to do with the moon boot and the barely used crutches. I've been doing quite a bit of work on my contract stuff, with the idea that I might actually get paid for it and be able to pay for the classes I want to take at the university. Right now, I'm making a casserole in my crockpot because the crockpot recipe book came from Amazon today. (Thanks, CS!)
Today is a beautiful day with light all around us and blue sky everywhere I look, though the clouds for the coming storm are a-comin'. I start walking tomorrow in order to prep for the IditaWalk2003 starting February 10.
I've had Genny at daycare for the past few days while I get caught up on stuff from the trip, like laundry, dishes, Christmas put-away, and stuff like that. We were sweeping the carpet last night to get the worst of the needles up, so I won't choke the vacuum today. I've actually made paths in our bedroom, so we can get around the damned bed and I've got most of the bags unpacked and put away. I also called my husband and invited him home for a nooner. I was told I should extend that invitation more often.
Oh, afternoon delight.
I'm feeling overwhelmed by the amount of crud I've got in this house in stacks here and there and God, I need a calendar. I'm getting that Mom's Family Calendar by S. Boynton because honestly, it saved our familial butts last year knowing who was going where and when.
And because Ladawn told me it's a good idea to pray for the people who piss you off, I've prayed for my parents-in-law. I've also prayed for the wisdom to handle the situation appropriately and for serenity regarding all things.
My ankle was pretty healed yesterday. I did a lot and it didn't swell a bit, so I think that day of laying around with my feet up on Monday was a very good thing. I just have to figure out what to do with the moon boot and the barely used crutches. I've been doing quite a bit of work on my contract stuff, with the idea that I might actually get paid for it and be able to pay for the classes I want to take at the university. Right now, I'm making a casserole in my crockpot because the crockpot recipe book came from Amazon today. (Thanks, CS!)
Today is a beautiful day with light all around us and blue sky everywhere I look, though the clouds for the coming storm are a-comin'. I start walking tomorrow in order to prep for the IditaWalk2003 starting February 10.
Tuesday, January 07, 2003
Mike drove us to his parents' house, so we could get the kids and head back to the hotel, where I would be permitted to doze off in a vicodan-wrapped slumber with my swollen ankle elevated upon numerous pillows.
We got there and the house had everyone -- all of Mike's brothers, one brother's girlfriend, my MIL's friend, plus us and the kids. Whereupon, I was laid into because I didn't watch Genny sufficiently and she overflowed the toilet. I was told that because it was Mike's mom's wedding that I was supposed to be the only parent watching children and that it was entirely my fault. I said,"Mike and I are a team and we watch the children together, and we lost track of her. I am not the only adult responsible for the children." I said,"We really need to leave." Whereupon, I was told that I am " an uninvolved parent." I said,"I have never ever felt welcome in your home and this is simply the last time I'll be here. I am sick of having my parenting critiqued, being insulted regularly, and feeling like I'm walking on eggshells around this family. I'm sick of not being treated with respect. You have gone out of your way to make sure I am not made to feel welcome, and I simply won't put up with this crap any more. You are more than welcome in our home, but obviously, I am not welcome here and I won't be back." As I said this, it dawned on me how much of an audience this idiot had done this in front of and I was horrified that I had simply not left before I uttered what I did. I also Mike's oldest brother pipe up that respect is returned or something like that, to which I responded," I don't respect them, huh? I guess spending all of this money to make sure we could come, pay for our own room and car, so as to not impose on anyone and pay for your ticket because I knew how damned much it meant to your mom is disrespectful? WhatEver! I'd rather eat glass than come here, but I knew what it meant to your mom and Mike asked me to, so we did." I kept trying for the door, but crutches are just so damned difficult to make a quick exit with.
Somewhere in there, one of Mike's brothers said that the way that this dufus was doing this was not okay and that he would not be a party to it and he left the room. I apologized and attempted to leave and was told something like we were always welcome, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, that's what yo mouf sez! I said,"Well, I don't *feel* welcome, and we're leaving."
Mind you, all this is going on in FRONT OF MY CHILDREN. And I kept trying to leave.
Finally, I limped to the front door on my crutches, pointed children out the door and got into the car. Whereupon, I had Mike's oldest brother physically place himself in the doorway of the car, so that I couldn't shut the fucking door. He told me I should learn to take constructive criticism. Constructive criticisim, typically is constructive, not destructive and is done in a loving manner, but I was tired and I just kept asking him to let me leave. I had to repeatedly ask him to get out of the door, so that we could leave because I simply wanted to go home and go to bed. Mike's youngest brother came out and tried to get him to leave off and Mike finally looked at him and said,"For Christ's sake, Chris, let me take her home!"
And a "oh duh" look came over his face and he stepped away and we went home.
We haven't spoken with Mike's mom and stepdad yet. And Mike has assured me that we won't visit them until they apologize. Two of Mike's brothers said that they were really sad. I simply think to myself, "GOOD!" They should be sad. After all the years of grief and sadness they've put me through, they deserve some sadness.
We got there and the house had everyone -- all of Mike's brothers, one brother's girlfriend, my MIL's friend, plus us and the kids. Whereupon, I was laid into because I didn't watch Genny sufficiently and she overflowed the toilet. I was told that because it was Mike's mom's wedding that I was supposed to be the only parent watching children and that it was entirely my fault. I said,"Mike and I are a team and we watch the children together, and we lost track of her. I am not the only adult responsible for the children." I said,"We really need to leave." Whereupon, I was told that I am " an uninvolved parent." I said,"I have never ever felt welcome in your home and this is simply the last time I'll be here. I am sick of having my parenting critiqued, being insulted regularly, and feeling like I'm walking on eggshells around this family. I'm sick of not being treated with respect. You have gone out of your way to make sure I am not made to feel welcome, and I simply won't put up with this crap any more. You are more than welcome in our home, but obviously, I am not welcome here and I won't be back." As I said this, it dawned on me how much of an audience this idiot had done this in front of and I was horrified that I had simply not left before I uttered what I did. I also Mike's oldest brother pipe up that respect is returned or something like that, to which I responded," I don't respect them, huh? I guess spending all of this money to make sure we could come, pay for our own room and car, so as to not impose on anyone and pay for your ticket because I knew how damned much it meant to your mom is disrespectful? WhatEver! I'd rather eat glass than come here, but I knew what it meant to your mom and Mike asked me to, so we did." I kept trying for the door, but crutches are just so damned difficult to make a quick exit with.
Somewhere in there, one of Mike's brothers said that the way that this dufus was doing this was not okay and that he would not be a party to it and he left the room. I apologized and attempted to leave and was told something like we were always welcome, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, that's what yo mouf sez! I said,"Well, I don't *feel* welcome, and we're leaving."
Mind you, all this is going on in FRONT OF MY CHILDREN. And I kept trying to leave.
Finally, I limped to the front door on my crutches, pointed children out the door and got into the car. Whereupon, I had Mike's oldest brother physically place himself in the doorway of the car, so that I couldn't shut the fucking door. He told me I should learn to take constructive criticism. Constructive criticisim, typically is constructive, not destructive and is done in a loving manner, but I was tired and I just kept asking him to let me leave. I had to repeatedly ask him to get out of the door, so that we could leave because I simply wanted to go home and go to bed. Mike's youngest brother came out and tried to get him to leave off and Mike finally looked at him and said,"For Christ's sake, Chris, let me take her home!"
And a "oh duh" look came over his face and he stepped away and we went home.
We haven't spoken with Mike's mom and stepdad yet. And Mike has assured me that we won't visit them until they apologize. Two of Mike's brothers said that they were really sad. I simply think to myself, "GOOD!" They should be sad. After all the years of grief and sadness they've put me through, they deserve some sadness.
Monday, January 06, 2003
My test results came back NORMAL!!!! I had a HBa1c of 5.7, when normal is 4-6, so diabetics out there may envy me and normal people should shrug! Whee! I also had good ratios on my cholesterols and all that, though my cholesterol is up, but I have been eating more red meat this year, so deservedly so.
We went to MIL's wedding.
I know I should stop at that. I went to the enemy's den and I know those you faithful readers who know all the implications thereof, are clutching your children and wringing your hands, saying,"For God's sake, why?!"
I went because my husband wanted me to. I bought the non-refundable tickets and then he asked me if I wanted to go, to which I replied, "No, I can't think of anything I'd rather not do." I made sure that we rented a hotel room and a car, so we wouldn't impose on anyone, though it was expensive and the money probably better spent elsewhere, but I wanted to do things the "right" way. I didn't want them to have anything they could bitch about.
So they bitched about the kids.
They had stark white carpet in their house -- even in their bathrooms, which to me is a sure sign of insanity, because only the insane would have a carpeted bathroom, but okay. We had to remove our shoes upon entry, but okay.
We were supposed to eat dinner there. The first night they had tacos, which aren't known for being neat eating and when I suggested that the kids might be better over the hardwood floor in the kitchen, I was informed that under no circumstances were chairs to be put on the hardwood floor, for fear of scratching the floor. So my children, for whom I usually have to use a snow shovel after each meal, had to eat tacos over the dreaded carpet. My son was told he wasn't to spill or he'd be in big trouble, which is pretty stressful for him because this is a child that can't tell that he has crap smeared from one end of his face to the other unless he sees it in a mirror. He lacks the sensitivity around his mouth for that because of all the speech problems, but he did okay. I was told I should hold Genny on my lap and feed her. I said,"I can't eat neatly myself, much less feed a child neatly whose face I can't really see." Grandma decided she'd feed her.
The wedding was only worse.
For the wedding, I made sure that we all wore similar clothing. Everyone had something purple on. Genny and I wore purple velour dresses, Mike wore a lavendar shirt with matching tie, and Russell wore a tie with some purple in it. I got Russell one of those little clip-ons because it was what there was at all the stores I went to. We all looked fantastic. I curled Genny's hair and bought special ties for her, so we could fancy her up. Genny screamed and squirmed through the whole thing, but she was cute as a button and you could tell she thought so, too. In the pictures of the wedding party, however, pictures were taken of my husband, my children, but not me at all. I thought it was kind of rude, but what else is new?
Genny flitted from place to place as children will do at a wedding. This was a small wedding and mostly family, so Genny seemed to be okay flitting from lap to lap. Unfortunately, Genny came and got Mike because the toilet had overflowed. She never plays with the toilet at home and I don't think she'd start, so we don't know if she came in, peed, and then flushed against someone else's plug or if she actually plugged it. She's two, so we can't ask her, but of course, she was blamed. Mike shut off the water, got the groom -- to get towels, and things seemed okay.
The next day, we left Russell with his uncles to play and we took Mike's brother and girlfriend with us and Genny to a local beer factory. While in the parking lot, I twisted my ankle on my way to buy batteries. It seemed okay, so I didn't say much and we did the factory tour. After sitting at the tasting table, when I got up my ankle was stiff and I was limping a little. We went to the gift shop and then back out to the car and we drove and got some food on the way home. I called to check on Russell, his uncles said he was fine, and I noticed that my ankle was throbbing. After we ate, we drove back to get Russell. My ankle had started to throb and I was hobbling badly to get back into the car and had slipped off my shoe to drive. I realized about 10 minutes from the hotel that I was shakey and starting to go into shock. I told Mike I was going to stop at the hotel and go to bed because it was pretty bad. When I got out of the car and tried to stand, when I put weight on the ankle I had to stop myself from screaming, so we got directions at the hotel to the nearest emergency room, while Mike's brother and girlfriend took Genny upstairs to their room.
When I got to the hospital, I was fully going into shock. I started to get the shakes and I was beginning to feel detached from myself. They wrapped me in a blanket and got me on a bed and elevated my foot. Then, they got me vicodan and x-rayed my foot.
It was not broken was the verdict, though obviously very sprained. They gave me a moon boot and crutches and sent me on my way. Exhausted, I crutched up to the house with Michael after phone calls were made to get kids, cringing at having had to leave them with family (Genny had been taken to her grandparents without a childseat!). This was when the fun began.
We went to MIL's wedding.
I know I should stop at that. I went to the enemy's den and I know those you faithful readers who know all the implications thereof, are clutching your children and wringing your hands, saying,"For God's sake, why?!"
I went because my husband wanted me to. I bought the non-refundable tickets and then he asked me if I wanted to go, to which I replied, "No, I can't think of anything I'd rather not do." I made sure that we rented a hotel room and a car, so we wouldn't impose on anyone, though it was expensive and the money probably better spent elsewhere, but I wanted to do things the "right" way. I didn't want them to have anything they could bitch about.
So they bitched about the kids.
They had stark white carpet in their house -- even in their bathrooms, which to me is a sure sign of insanity, because only the insane would have a carpeted bathroom, but okay. We had to remove our shoes upon entry, but okay.
We were supposed to eat dinner there. The first night they had tacos, which aren't known for being neat eating and when I suggested that the kids might be better over the hardwood floor in the kitchen, I was informed that under no circumstances were chairs to be put on the hardwood floor, for fear of scratching the floor. So my children, for whom I usually have to use a snow shovel after each meal, had to eat tacos over the dreaded carpet. My son was told he wasn't to spill or he'd be in big trouble, which is pretty stressful for him because this is a child that can't tell that he has crap smeared from one end of his face to the other unless he sees it in a mirror. He lacks the sensitivity around his mouth for that because of all the speech problems, but he did okay. I was told I should hold Genny on my lap and feed her. I said,"I can't eat neatly myself, much less feed a child neatly whose face I can't really see." Grandma decided she'd feed her.
The wedding was only worse.
For the wedding, I made sure that we all wore similar clothing. Everyone had something purple on. Genny and I wore purple velour dresses, Mike wore a lavendar shirt with matching tie, and Russell wore a tie with some purple in it. I got Russell one of those little clip-ons because it was what there was at all the stores I went to. We all looked fantastic. I curled Genny's hair and bought special ties for her, so we could fancy her up. Genny screamed and squirmed through the whole thing, but she was cute as a button and you could tell she thought so, too. In the pictures of the wedding party, however, pictures were taken of my husband, my children, but not me at all. I thought it was kind of rude, but what else is new?
Genny flitted from place to place as children will do at a wedding. This was a small wedding and mostly family, so Genny seemed to be okay flitting from lap to lap. Unfortunately, Genny came and got Mike because the toilet had overflowed. She never plays with the toilet at home and I don't think she'd start, so we don't know if she came in, peed, and then flushed against someone else's plug or if she actually plugged it. She's two, so we can't ask her, but of course, she was blamed. Mike shut off the water, got the groom -- to get towels, and things seemed okay.
The next day, we left Russell with his uncles to play and we took Mike's brother and girlfriend with us and Genny to a local beer factory. While in the parking lot, I twisted my ankle on my way to buy batteries. It seemed okay, so I didn't say much and we did the factory tour. After sitting at the tasting table, when I got up my ankle was stiff and I was limping a little. We went to the gift shop and then back out to the car and we drove and got some food on the way home. I called to check on Russell, his uncles said he was fine, and I noticed that my ankle was throbbing. After we ate, we drove back to get Russell. My ankle had started to throb and I was hobbling badly to get back into the car and had slipped off my shoe to drive. I realized about 10 minutes from the hotel that I was shakey and starting to go into shock. I told Mike I was going to stop at the hotel and go to bed because it was pretty bad. When I got out of the car and tried to stand, when I put weight on the ankle I had to stop myself from screaming, so we got directions at the hotel to the nearest emergency room, while Mike's brother and girlfriend took Genny upstairs to their room.
When I got to the hospital, I was fully going into shock. I started to get the shakes and I was beginning to feel detached from myself. They wrapped me in a blanket and got me on a bed and elevated my foot. Then, they got me vicodan and x-rayed my foot.
It was not broken was the verdict, though obviously very sprained. They gave me a moon boot and crutches and sent me on my way. Exhausted, I crutched up to the house with Michael after phone calls were made to get kids, cringing at having had to leave them with family (Genny had been taken to her grandparents without a childseat!). This was when the fun began.
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