United States of Motherhood: November 2008

Monday, November 24, 2008

Looking For My Mojo

My friends, I am trying to get my mojo on.

We just finished a long two day meet yesterday. The kids did well. I timed for almost five hours straight.

We came home to the neighbors already putting up Christmas lights.

Feck if I don't still have Halloween stuff up inside and tons of Autumnal decor everywhere.

Jeez! Excuse me if I think Christmas lights are obscene before....you know.... ummm... Thanksgiving. Sigh.

Seriously, the neighbors aren't the problem. I, in fact, love those neighbors and applaud their energy. You see, it's me. It's me. I have no energy. Usually, this time of year, Christmas shopping would be done, prepping for the holidays would be in full swing, and I have nothing.

So dispirited. So tired. So in debt and not wanting to pull out credit cards to pay for another gift the kids don't need.

I need inspiration from the spawn:




I need to fight back. Hit those sales hard. Be a creative shopper.

You know. Be one bad-ass mother-effing Sam-u-el Jackson Motha like this:



Oops! I meant this:




Now is anyone else craving a Royale with cheese? Ummm.....numm... Did you notice I've stopped using the f-bomb on this blog? Heh!

Who needs it when you've got Samuel L. Jackson, eh?




Okay, I am feeling energized. I am one mushroom cloud motha!

Blognotes: Thanks for the flickr pic from by jahdakine - painting

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Ground Zero: My Highway to Hell


It's reached it's crescendo.

Yep, we are talking fruit flies again. Eldest mentioned a fruit fly flew off of him in class yesterday.

Two days previous, I plurped open the tupperware of burnt chicken and musty butternut squash soup food packed with love by CG for dinner at the swim club, and two flies buzzed out.

I reclined indolently upstairs last night with my wine glass and saw they had encroached on the marital bed.

This. Was. War.

They had drawn first blood, but I was going to end it. Those fruit flies were my Sheriff Will Teasles.

I went Rambo yesterday. I tied my pink headband around my forehead:



I smashed. I fluttered. I ali-ooped.

I tried pint glasses, demitasses, ramekins, and cereal bowls for traps with cider vinegar, white vinegar, and yes, my beloved wine. I filled root beer bottles. I tried wine bottles. Some had saran wrap on top while other had dish soap. Some had many holes while others were open air.

I put them in the pantry. Near the sink. One actually cleverly positioned in the kitchen garbage.

I windexed those little shisters. I smashed some more.

...And they kept coming.

I emptied the kitchen trash. I wiped and bleached all drains. Their numbers diminished, but they persisted in the pantry. They buzzed around our 9 bottles of vinegars. Yes, nine. Red wine, white wine, cider, generic white, tarragon, balsamic, Japanese Mirin, rice vinegar, and fish sauce.

I looked everywhere. They buzzed. They did arenautical hijinks to evade my flustered swatting.

Then.

I.

Looked.

Down.

No?

No!

It's stainless exterior gleamed evil-ly in the dim pantry light.

I had forgotten the pantry garbage can.

Yes, garbage can in the room where we keep food, but this garbage can is a dry can. It's meant to hold Costco binding materials, wraps, plastic, and cardboard. Open a Costco-sized 12 roll of paper towels? Conveniently throw wrapping material there.

So, this garbage can is so dry that we don't even line it, but use it like a waste paper basket and usually recycle most stuff.

And, it only gets emptied on garbage days when Eldest actually remembers it. No big. It's dry. Still it's been two weeks since the last garbage run, so it had not been opened it in a while.

In an instant.

I open the cans.

The hordes ascended.

A fruit fly swarm.

Botulistic Barnacles!!

I run it to the outside garbage which resides in the garage to prevent critters. I dump it.

You'll remember no bag?

Blister on a beetle, they're still loose. They could get in the doggy door. They could lay eggs in CG's Mini and live off the crumbs on the floor. Worse, they could get to my seasonal decor!

Sugar teats!

I rolled the big garbage can out of the garage on to the side of the house. Who cares about bears and raccoons when you have fruit flies inside? Sorry neighbors. I can't have my middleschooler looking like "Pig Pen."

Can.

You.

Feel.

My.

Hysteria?

With much trepidation, I go back to the garbage liner and look.

There they were.

Their white, glistening bodies writhed like living pearls in the daylight. Fruit fly larvae were everywhere.

There. On the very bottom of my dry garbage can. Someone had put two pieces of dastardly fruit.

I say fruit because they were unidentifiable except for their generally round shape.

They were entirely covered in maggots and white mold.

My friends, my friends, I say this rather brittle-y, if I ever find out who put that fruit in my dry garbage, they will pay, my friends.

So with every wipe of the garbage, I came up with paper towels full of the worms. I 409. I wiped. The garbage liner sparkled. I then took it outside and sprayed it out. I came inside and started the process again. Spray 409. Wipe. Spray bleach. Wipe. Go outside. Hose down. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat......

Um.....

We were late to swimming. I removed at least a quarter inch of that liner through corrosive cleaning.

As for the flies, they are diminishing. My traps are working. The vinegar needs to be refreshed daily. Truth be told, I had the best success with wine over vinegar, less soap, and the wine bottle with no saran wrap. Open bowls with a drop of dish soap and red wine vinegar worked the fastest, but then your house smells like a deli.

Notice red wine, wine bottles, and red wine vinegar?

So, they like wine. I don't blame 'em. Me too. We were a disaster waiting to happen.

Last night was the first night I had a glass of wine after dinner where I didn't have to cover my glass with my napkin.

The fight goes on, but the battle has been won.

I am the victor. I, Scout's Honor, can not be stopped:




I would do that jogging dance, but feck if killing bugs isn't stressful. I think I have PTFFSS. You know, like Rambo, but add fruit flies. Post Traumatic Fruit Fly Stress Syndrome.

I started having flashbacks to my childhood when bull weevils took over my parent's Mormon Food Store Room. Bugs and moths came out whenever we were sent in to get a can of something.

Shiver.

Not in my house. PTFFSS..... Sorry, did I gleck on you? Heh!

I won!

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Fruit Flies From Hell

Such an innocuous bunch of bananas, they were.

Common in fact.

Smooth yellow.

Medium sized.

They weren't designer bananas. Nothing special. Not even organic. Perfect for a morning nosh.

They were put in the pantry shelf with baby tomatoes, sweet potatoes, onion, and citrus fruits.

They were forgotten.

When I went to make banana bread upon remembering them and seeing their now brown exterior, I found they were moving.

Yes, my friends, moving.

I peeled back their leathery skins and found maggots, worms, weevils, what ever in God's name they are.

I threw them out and thought that's that.

They must have matured elsewhere because one week later, they buzz around our breakfast juice.

They love, love, love my Cabernet. I left out my wine last night and found 20 drowned little fly baby carcasses.

I've thrown out tomatoes. Dumped all citrus and still they persist.

Those little fuckers!

Fruit flies are the gift that keep on giving. You know like a bad fart that lingers when your husband wafts the sheets. Oh, better yet the letter that came home, the 2nd this month, that said there are lice in Li'l Man's 1st grade class.

Nice.

My friends, I am about to bring out the big guns. I have never had fruit flies in all my 12 years of domestic married life.

I am thinking napalm.

Suggestions?

I prefer organic home remedies like beer for snails, but they seem to like my Cab and damned if I'm giving them my Cab.

Help!

*****UPDATE:****

I killed all the little fackers. Read how here.
Blognotes: Thanks for the great flickr pics from by mwgoh08's photostream , shioshvili and by -eko-'s photostream.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Husbands that Support Blogging are HAWT

Oh. My. Gott.

My husband CG just wrote a non-geek, non-nerd, non-computerese, nothing to do with productivity post this week about li'l ol' me called Grinning While Blogging.

It's tender. It's personal. It's his take on my blogging.

Yes, as I write in my pajamas on most week-end afternoons, he supports my blogging because it makes me happy.

...And yes, I smile a lot while I write, and scowl, and pick my nose sip on wine while I enjoy reading my friends words. It may not pay the bills, but it enriches my life.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Our Tooth Fairy Sucks. And Yours?

Oops. The tooth fairy read my blog yesterday and suddenly realized that tooth lost on Halloween?

Yep, she had forgotten.

That tooth fairy felt very guilty and grabbed the only $10 out of her wallet and wrote this posthaste:

Dear Li’l Man*,

I know you had lost a tooth, but I couldn’t find it. You mom told me though so, so sorry this is sooo late.

So many kids had their teeth rotted out by Halloween candy that I have been way too busy for words. You guys need to stop eating candy!!!

So here, accept this tooth fairy treasure. Enjoy!

Love,

The Tooth Fairy

*Not his real name, but we do call him that.

Can we say guilty much? Can I screw up any more this year??

Yep, it's been one helluva pinup mommy of the year award year, eh:

Oh, my! It looks like you've lost some teeth, big boy.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Blog Roll Update: Who's In & Nobody's Out

Hey you,

Yeah, you. Guess who just updated her blogroll? Yep, me. Even with tidbits of your latest posts organized by most recent posts.

So check it out on the right of my blog. It's all the good of the internet that's fit to read.

What? What's that? You aren't on there? Well, what are you waiting for? Put a link to your blog in my comments and I'll come ch-ch-ch-check you out.

What's another wonderful blog to devour, when I only have 666 posts left on which to nibble.

Love, Me

P.S.I'm also known to give lots of stumble it love to those I read...just saying...tempting I know.

Candy Quotas & Back-talking Pre-teens


"Is it?"

"Is it?"

"Yes!"

"Yeah!! Yes. Yes!"


Commence loud cheering and giggles immediately after a large breakfast of pancakes, bacon, sausage, juice, cantalope and blackberries. Emphasis is on large.

Yes, my friends, it was Halloween candy time. Five minutes ago they were too full to drink their milk, but it is the witching hour.

After Halloween, I limited the kids to five pieces a day. Over two weeks later, it persists.

Well... Three pieces for Eldest to the right because he kept trying to negotiate and when you try to negotiate without leverage as a child? You lose in this family.


Keep talking my attitude-infested 12 year old. Every, "but mom..." removes one piece from your quota. What's that? Eh? Ah, silence!

So kids would try to eat said candy immediately upon rising from their wee beds which bothered my rules centered husband. Hence CG implemented a 11 o'clock AM rule.

Now we have a daily countdown.

"10:58?"

"Not yet"

"10:59.36, .37, .38, .39"

No worries, I ate a truck load of their candy yesterday so their candy supplies have dwindled. I think we have maybe a 30-day supply left. Heh!

And if not, I am sure their teeth will fall out soon. Look at this beauty that fell out on Halloween night no less:



So my friends, spread the word to your kids. Eat too much candy and your eyes will bug out and your smile will look like this:


Filthy Husband

My husband roasted some butternut squash over three weeks ago and then threw it in a large gallon ziploc.

Scrounging for food last night on a fend for yourself, 'cause I'm not making dinner, still feeling sick and now I have cramps and a cold sore day, he seriously asked me:

"Do you think this squash is still good?"

WTF?

Without hesitation, I yell, "As always, what would your mother do? When you figure it out, do the opposite."

My Polish mother in-law has some of the worst food handling habits on Earth.

Back to my husband: My friends? I posit that this is why I think I have been so sick. Seriously. the man picks dropped food off the floor and puts it in the pot. He eats rotten food.

He never takes his dirty shoes off in our white carpeted house and spreads filth and vermin. A little over the top, you think? I saw a story on the news a few days ago that said one's vacuum beater bar has more germs, bacteria, e coli and feces than a public toilet. Nice, eh? They said the way to combat it is to take off one's shoes in one's home. He refuses.

See he spreads vermin and disease. What's worse?

He has crabs.

Yes, you heard me, crabs.

Need proof?

See:




Saturday, November 15, 2008

I Hate Myself as a Mother Right Now

He's lucky to have a big brother looking after him because his mother is useless...

I thought he had him. He thought I had him.

Turns out he was sleeping in unusually late.

He was left by himself in an empty house for 45 minutes this morning. I didn't realize until 20 minutes into the commute to get my eldest to swim practice that I wasn't sure who had him.

CG had taken PB to her early morning practice before we woke up. I called him in a panic and confirmed my fantastically huge error.

Yes, I am a fucktard mom. It's official. I could claim lack of sleep with an average of 3 hours a night this week. I could talk about being sick, but they are all excuses for something unexcusable.

I called home in a panic, hoping he'd pick up the phone, but no one answered. I tried over and over.

I hoped he'd still be asleep when I arrived home, but before I could get my keys out on the front porch, the lock clicked and the door opened.

Two teary, wounded blue eyes looked up at me in betrayal and then he crumpled into me. His little pudgy arms encircled my legs like they would never let go.

He made gaspy breaths.

His chest shuddered.

"Mommy, I was scared. I looked in every room for you."

My heart crushed. Yes, I left my little six year old boy entirely by himself while both CG and I were over 20 miles away.

My stomach churns as I think what could have happened. Fire. Burgulars. Accidents. Injuries.

I hate myself as a mother right now.

I live for my kids and, right now, I could just die for what I did. The guilt consumes me.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Accident Prone Again or Bad Karma or Genetic Common Sense Deficiency?

My kids are accident prone. Luckily, they tend to be accident prone when we as parents are not around...heh!

Testament to our protective parenting or defense from Child Protective Services? Both.

So the latest was when my 12 year old decided to kick an eight pound medicine ball like it was a soccer ball at swim practice two weeks ago. Um, ouch? Maybe common sense might be lacking as well? They come by it honestly from CG's side of the family.

So he kept complaining it hurt and my response for the last two weeks was, "Duh, you won't do that again."

So he said it hurt, but continued school and swim practice and he seemed fine to wiggle crazily around on his Ripstik skate board. He only mentioned it hurt when it came to swim practice, so I was a bit skeptical.

Then he had this big meet coming up. 1650 meters. Yes, 66 lengths my friend. An approximately 20 minute race. Suddenly, it became much more painful especially in the arch when he wore shoes which he leaves untied. Uh, right! common sense?

Sick of it, I made an appointment to dispel his whines once and for all.

They x-rayed and the doctor saw nothing. She diagnosed it as a pulled ligament, gave us a boot for weight-bearing activity and said swimming was alright as long as it "didn't hurt." I glared at Eldest to prevent any malingering.

The next day, he wore the boot at school and then swam that 1650. It was the first time he swam it and got a PNS time and a 1/2 second off from a sectional time. Woot! His coaches were excited to find a new event at which he excelled. We were excited to see how he would do next time without the "pulled ligament."

So imagine my surprise when I get an urgent call from the pediatrician. It seems they had a radiologist double check and they had found a break. Not in the arch/mid foot area where the pain was, but the big toe. Unfortunately, it's in a complicated area of the toe--the joint of the toe--and he needs to be seen soon by a orthopedist.

WTF!WTF!WTF!WTF!WTF!WTF!WTF! Can we say dejavu? Remember the last time I thought he was fine and I wrote this in August 2007:

"So, to add insult to injury, a certain Mom to remain nameless thought Eldest might have been exaggerating his injury and had him swim an excruciating 200 IM and 100 Back before he got out of the pool in tears at the Seattle Age Group Open. So, let's just assume this Mom feels very, very, very guilty. This seems to be a constant state in her life. Oh, the guilt. This is certainly a weakness to allow Eldest to work it."

Yep, he had a broken wrist then.

Okay, this is the universe telling me that I need to become an alarmist mother to my very clutzy kids, right?

Time for a worst pinup mother of the year award, my friends:


"Woe is me. I never know when things are broke. Sigh..."

Just Another Day

Okay, this story on the Today Show of bringing home the wounded brought me to tears, but the song sung at the end by the very hot and very talented Broadway performer Aaron Lazar had me weeping. Yep, still emotional today.

Enjoy and don't forget tissues:

Disappointed on Veteran's Day


See this gorgeous face? It's looking pretty disappointed right now as is mine. She's been working on a choir concert for the Veterans' Assembly at school for months.

I always go to said assembly with my husband and sit front and center on the stage. At some point they ask the veterans to identify family members at the school. All speeches and essays are directed at us. All songs are sung to us. My kids beam with pride. The kids always come home with ideas from peers that CG and I are "war heroes." For the record, I am always the only woman on the stage.

So today? Not going. So sick. There's no way I'd last 5 minutes on that stage before making a mad dash. Yep, that would not make my kids proud. So for the first time in three years, I won't be there on stage, but I'll be there in spirit.

I mentioned on Shana's Veteran's Day post entitled "A Little Tribute to My Heroes...," how much I look forward to this assembly, but always get way over-emotional. So here I am today, sick, disappointed, and still over-emotional. Sigh.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Disturbing: This LAND is OUR land

"This land is my land, this land's not your land
I've got a shot gun, and you don't got one
I've got an army, all you've got is Barbies
I've got cheerleaders, but you've got boo-leaders
This land's made for me, not you."


This gem was sung to me by my six year old recently. So not happy. Ironically, guess who taught it to him? A 2nd generation Chinese immigrant. Is this what assimilation means?

This disturbs me on many levels, but then I wonder if I am being too sensitive since the next verse out of his mouth was a variation of Jingle Bells:

"Jingle Bells, Batman smells
Robin laid an gun
Shot a tree
Made it pee
in nineteen-eiiiighty-three-ee"


Dude. 1983? I was eleven. That wasn't so long ago was it?!

Come Out, Come Out Where Ever You are

Can you tell I'm in a snit? Not so positive as yesterday. Nope. Why?

Google Analytics says in the last TWO weeks, my blog has had:


Except, only short handfuls of comments. Sigh. I need feedback, my friends. Give it to me if I'm wrong, or even if you agree.

I know it's partially my fault. I am not good at responding to the lovely comments you do give me. I'm working on it. Scout's Honor!

Maybe you're just "not that into me..." Sniffle. What do I need to do? More bad mothering stories, evil daughter posts, haughty wife blogs, coffee addiction, republican politicking, or sloppy drunk cocktailing, eh?? Let me know. Which are your favorites?

Still Thinking of Those Children, Damn It and We've Got a Long Way To Go!


So, I am dragging an oldy-but-goody from the Scouty archives. It was one of my first posts written almost two years ago, but it sadly is still very relevant today:

Saturday, December 2, 2006

Think of the Children, Damn it!

Hi, I’m a Republican and I believe in gay marriage. (gasp)

Beyond all the normal religious reasons, people often use the fact that gay couples can’t procreate as the reason why gay marriage is wrong or not natural. I have to admit, years ago, I might have been in that camp. However, some experiences have made me a vehement believer that gay marriage is the right thing:

First off, having had many friends with infertility issues which did not allow them to conceive, the same logic would hold that these couples, who adopted or remained childless would also be not worthy of marriage. What rubbish! Children make a family, but they don’t make a marriage. Marriage, however, will protect that family.

I met a wonderful father, part of a committed homosexual couple who has been together longer than CG and I. This house husband has lovingly adopted children from a straining Bay Area foster system; one child adopted has physical defects, but is perfect in his fathers’ eyes and another child of a different race born with drugs in her system, but loved and wanted from the very first moment they saw her. They had already lost another daughter before the adoption was legal because their first daughter's drug addict parents had cleaned themselves up. Yet, this couple tried again and received this beautiful baby girl.

To me, they form a wonderful, caring family unit. Nothing could make me believe these children would be better off any other place than where they were. This really hit home because my two youngest were the same age of these children and one had the same name as my child. We shared play groups, birthday parties, Christmas parties, and parent on-line groups. I kept thinking, what if they were my kids, what if something were to happen to me and the law didn’t protect my family and put my kids with grandparents or the foster system rather than with their only other parent?

Sometimes, one father’s amazing love and concern made me feel less as a mother in comparison to his patience, humor, and touching concern for his kids. Yet, when this couple married at San Francisco City Hall when the flood gates were left open by Mayor Gavin Newsom, it was eventually ruled non-existent by the courts. I don’t think Mayor Newsom was right--he had no legal standing to do so; the backlash by the country probably set back Gay Marriage as a movement for years. In the end, I felt then and still feel that Mayor Newsom is a fool politician who pulled this stunt to get attention and name recognition.

However, the principle behind it all was rock solid. Gay people are not second hand citizens. How is it that Britney Spears can marry on drunken whim and later annul, but life partners of decades cannot just because they are of the same sex? Why is it that both Pam Anderson and Renée Zellweger are allowed their ill-thought out marriages of 4 months, yet families together for years with children cannot be afforded the same protection? The love of Pamela Anderson and Kid Rock is NOT more holy than life partners of twenty years. So why would their marriage be an abomination, yet strung out rock start just need an ticket to Vegas? Is their love any less? In my opinion, sometimes it is much more and no one can tell me the government and bureaucracies should be regulating and legislating love. People, why does it hurt anyone to let another family legally exist? why does it hurt your marriage and family values if a different kind of family exists? If you marriage is so weak that you think it will be damaged if another type of marriage --a marriage of two souls with the same parts but with the same love that you feel for your husband/wife--will be harmed, then perhaps, sweathearts, your marriage is suspect.

Please people, if nothing else let’s think of the children involved. Let’s help preserve their rights. The thought that comes to mind is a couple I heard about in the Bay Area. They broke up and one mother, the surrogate of the children, took the children and moved to the East Coast. The other mother, the egg donor, I guess the biological mother if you will, was left for years with no legal standing and years without being allowed to see her children, even once. The fact is that both of these women were mothers, but the law only protected the one who actually gave birth. Never would we think to say a father has no rights because he didn’t pop that baby out!

As a Republican, I want less taxes, less government, and hence why should I think we should regulate someone’s happiness or the ability to legal share custody, have right of survivorship on homes shared, rights to social security and medical benefits? Just because God made you a little different, does not mean he loves you any less.

If anything, if your mind is still closed to homosexuality, at least try to think of these people as parents and people. First and foremost, though, let's think of the children!

People, we as bloggers can be so influential. I've seen it happen with Obama's victory. I may not agree with the man, but he was genius with using technology. We need to use this same technology to educate, sway, and defeat those who would like to strip the rights of people who only want to love.

So, use this technology. Be vocal on every blog that touches on gay marriage. Speak up. Every blog I've found on the subject has received a comment.

Stumble those you like (Hint! Hint!) See that "Stumble it!" button down there? Click it. See that bookmark button, redditt this post, digg it, do something to get it out there. Please.

Leave me a comment saying you've posted a view on gay marriage or Prop. 8 and I will definitely Stumble you back.

We've got to say no more. Religious beliefs and rights cannot trump civil liberties. My gay friends have every right to pursue their happiness and protect their assets and children as any of us do. I believe the religious and gay citizens can coexist. We must educate others that it is possible. I know we can do it.

We must create a national momentum against propositions like prop. 8. History has shown where California goes, the rest of the nation follows.




Hold the line, my friends. Hold the line and fight back!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Who Doesn't Love Dr. Suess

I've been looking for positivity lately. The rain, the election, my body image, my disappointments, my friends' divorces and ugly custody battles, my family's politics can all get a girl down. So here's something to lighten the mix:

61105
"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."
Dr. Seuss

I am finding I can apply Dr. Suess to a million different happinesses in my life. And you? Try it Mikey, you might like it. Think of something positive that has happened in your life and now is gone. Savor the feeling. Enjoy the memory. Then understand that while you no longer have that memory, feeling, intangible...it still can be enjoyed.

And no, I'm not in my cups. It's noon thirty here and there's not a cocktail within reach. I know. I know. You are used to Scouty being snarky, bitter, sarcastic, and ironic. Today she's feeling like trying for the positive and looking for rainbows.

I heard you snicker. Shut the fuck up and be positive, you asshats. Heh!

Monday, November 10, 2008

Two Guesses Which Kid Became A Windy Agnostic Republican


Yes, the Partridge girl looking one with the white pleather go-go boots , medallion, page boy cut, and ruffled bohemian collar.

Go ahead click on it to get a closer look. I'll wait. This pic I found between pages of a high school yearbook brings back memories...

This was taken in the years when my family fostered in the 70's . The little boy on the far left next to my brother is Jimmy.

Jimmy. Sigh...

I understand we tried to adopt him. Social services said we had a fine amount of kids to foster, but too many to adopt.

I understand he was severely abused by his mother (starved, locked in closets abuse) and after living with us for two years, was finally placed in a "suitable" home with a Contra Costa sheriff who might not have been the best choice. This is at least what I've been told.

My mom told me that he came to see her and called her "Mom." Sadly, I wasn't around to see him.

Jimmy was a great older brother and I loved him so much. People said we looked alike. He was blond and fair like me in a family of dark hair and olive skin.

It crushed me when he left...

Yes, this is the same brother I wrote about in posts before:

"Maybe, after our gorgeous duck that my brother and foster brother naively tried to make fly with clipped wings, had it's legs cruelly and compound-ly fractured, there was some effect. My sister compassionately gave the poor thing Popsicle stick splints. In the end, said brothers were forced to slaughter said pet duck with ax as punishment, but 7 year-olds don't do a very good job and only tortured the duck so much more. Yep, forced to eat said protein. "
Yep, maybe there were other reasons that Jimmy couldn't be adopted by us...

In my mother's arms is Kevin. My mother had him from two days old until 18 months. He'd been abandoned. He was her baby, but we weren't the right color to adopt him even though it was the only home he'd ever had.

They placed him in another home--a black home. It seemed a good home (two Berkeley professors) and my mother was allowed to visit Kevin a few months later.

Kevin immediately screamed, "Mama," and my mother was never allowed visitation of her baby again. Kevin was my baby too.

My little brother...

Overall, my parents fostered over 26 kids, most with histories of physical, emotional, or sexual abuse. It was a time in my parents' life when they wanted to have the big Mormon family and seemed destined to have only four.

These kids were broken and came with a cacophony of need and behavior problems that overwhelmed any needs of the existing kids. Near the end of fostering, my two youngest sisters were born and the fostering ended with a show down between my older sisters and my parents.

And that cute dog? Strawberry? One of many dogs I became attached to that eventually became inconvenient dumped...

I am just coming to the realization what a roller coaster by early childhood was. I realize how much loss I felt.

The later years where I rejected my family's religion, most of their values, and joined the Army to pay my way through school because Berkeley wasn't good enough--only BYU would do--were pretty bad, but the early one's had their own set of tragedies as well.


Friday, November 7, 2008

Rice Crispie Bubbles and Muddy Paw Prints

So, in a another brilliant parenting coup, CG allowed Li'l Man a questionable liquid on his breakfast Rice Crispies today.

Need some background?

Some brilliant Mom took the last half gallon of milk in the house to the kids' swim practice the other day. Flavored with chocolate milk, the kids drank it all. It didn't hurt that they know Michael Phelps drank chocolate milk to recover between events at the Olympics. Alllll gone.

Since then, I haven't had a chance to go to the store.

So, yesterday, in desperation, I let Li'l Man use fat-free half-n-half on his cereal. He didn't like it and very little was eaten. I thought it was good. Heh!

Today, CG one-upped me and PB told on him. Why?

Only because he told Li'l Man that it was okay to put root beer on his cereal!!

Hey Honey, why not add some crack to that son? Need some more sugar? Have some sprinkles, but oh wait, your Daddy already taught you to put sugary sprinkles on your farking Mac-n-Cheese when we go to buffets like Zoopa.

Sigh.

This is not an auspicious sign for the beginning of the day.

On top of the six year old high on sugar, I've found muddy footprints entirely surrounding the white carpet in the dining room and the farking white carpet in the living room and yes, my friends, the one carpet in the family room.

So, prior owners to my house in the Northwest? You suck rotten eggs for putting in white carpet.

And Seb, you asshat of a dog, I know it was you...Those are big paws and I can could tell it was you running in circles in my dining room.

Dog, you are lucky you're not on a pike. How you managed to keep that much mud on your feet while traveling through the garage, the kitchen, the hallways , the butler's pantry, and then all those rooms, I will never know.

You think you're cute with your heavy head on my barefoot as I type? Little do you know the evil thoughts flitting in my mind...Seb soup? Baked Seb? Cajun Seb strips?

I know. I know.

It's not all your fault. The rain flooding Seattle as we speak was mostly at fault, but goddammit dog, learn to wipe your feet.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

We're Watching....We'rrrrreee Alwayyyys Watching

Heh, I just had a visitor come to my blog with the key words, "How to deal with over-achieving moms."

Heh!

How'd they find me???

More importantly, how'd I know? (Eyebrows raised)

Heheh... Did you get the creeps?

Uh, no?

Whatever.

Anyway, it's because I belong to the Super Secret Society of Roz:




This society is especially good to belong to when you need to have the requisite eyes in the back of your head to catch your kids sneaking too much Halloween candy.

And if you've been following my Twitters about eating the self-same candy? Lies, lies, lies. Perpetrated by political enemies or over over-achieving mothers grasping at my glory.

My Daughter's PTSA Reflections Art Contest Submission: Dream


Pretty trippy, eh?

My daughter used my camera and took a picture of some lilies in the front flower bed. That's me watering the landscaping in the background. She futzed around with Photoshop and called it" Dreams." The theme was "Wow" in the competition and she said this photo was colorful like her dreams that "wow" her.

Not too shabby for a just turned nine year that did everything entirely by herself, I think, but I might be biased.

Wow!

Update: I just added this into the Greeblemonkey contest this month.





Funny Sign

This Republican's Thoughts on Gay Marriage and Prop. 8

A favorite blogger of mine, Avitable, posed this question on his blog:

I'm looking for a few bad Republicans

"Should a gay couple be allowed the same rights as a straight married couple?
Should a gay couple be allowed to marry?

If you would, in any way, answer no to either of these questions, I'd like you to explain your rationale. Why do you feel this way? I'm asking honestly - I need to know what train of thought leads to voting to ban the rights of anyone. I need to understand it, because without any type of rational explanation from someone who actually feels that way, all I can think is that we are a hateful, prejudicial nation that has turned its back on the reason it was created in the first place.

So, if you say no to those two questions, please, tell me why."


You know what's coming, right? Yep, my friends, it's a windy, windy, windy douchehole time. Heh! My comments:

"Sigh. Not me. I'm a good witch...errr...Republican.

Prop 8 passing made me want to vomit. I just had a couple friends get married there and now I guess their marriages never were?

So those so called "bad Republicans" (edited)you're asking about? That's my almost entire farking family. They're Mormon and the top of the church told them they needed to have 30 people from each ward work on the election 4 hours weekly. Imagine that manpower harnessed. (edited)

At it's most elemental, they believe their rights are being attacked. They believed if they didn't resist, they would have law suits forcing them to marry homosexuals in their temples or face discrimination law suits and loss of their non-profit status.

Yes, yes, this sounds like fear mongering. No way it would happen right? Make a US bishop marry two lesbians in his cathedral? Have two gay men marry in their temple? Then it spreading to classrooms...

Then Edited) I read this NPR:

When Gay Rights and Religious Liberties Clash
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=91486191

NPR is pretty reputable. I see their point. They kinda were right. They can be sued and forced to go against their religious beliefs. Gay rights shouldn't trump any religious rights (no matter how you or I view those repugnant freedoms). Can't they coexist?

Then, I said wait a minute. If it's about not getting sued and their rights, why didn't they delineate their religious rights and protect their rights in prop 8 instead of trying to take away someone else's rights in the form of outright banning gay marriage?

Then, still thinking, really, much less then half of the American populace is even religious, but they get quite a tax benefit for church contributions. Maybe churches and church members, who arguably get a benefit from their donations, should not get a tax benefit as well. Besides, we all know churches are industries with their large corporate offices, huge real estate holdings, etc.

Think of those billions of tax dollars for our economy. No think of all those churches no longer being forced to bend to discrimination laws. Then think of all those gay couples being allowed to marry and pursue happiness like us all.

Win. win. Win.

Okay, now that I've written a post on your comments, I think I'll post this at my blog too. If you haven't heard from me in a few days, come see if I've been stabbed in the heart with a cross, eh?

Comments by Scout's Honor

comment by Scout's Honor Thursday, November 6, 2008 @ 10:16 am

  • oh, and one more thing, I think it's stinky fingers are being pointed at Republicans.

    Have you seen the exit polls? Look at the percentage of black Californians that voted yes. The people who have arguably been most discriminated against in a year where we voted in a black president, voted to discriminate against gays.

    SF Chronicle

    http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/11/05/MNH413UTUS.DTL :

    "While Obama publicly backed the "No on Prop. 8" effort, African American voters had no trouble voting overwhelmingly for the man who will be the nation's first black president and then voting 70 percent in favor of Prop. 8."

    And Catholics?

    "59 percent of Catholics backed Democratic President-elect Barack Obama, they turned around and voted for Prop. 8 by 64 percent."

    A CNN poll I found also said 51% of Latin men voted yes as well.

    See Democrats can and are bigots too. There aren't that many Republicans, much less black or Catholic or Latin Republicans in California. I should know. I used to be one of the few Republicans period in California.

    So, let's call a bigot a bigot and not blame a political party.

    Oh, and Obama? While he was against prop 8 (although he said little during the campaign), check out this quote from Lesbian Life:

    http://lesbianlife.about.com/od/lesbianactivism/p/BarackObama.htm

    Barack Obama and Gay Marriage/ Civil Unions:


    Although Barack Obama has said that he supports civil unions, he is against gay marriage. In an interview with the Chicago Daily Tribune, Obama said, "I'm a Christian. And so, although I try not to have my religious beliefs dominate or determine my political views on this issue, I do believe that tradition, and my religious beliefs say that marriage is something sanctified between a man and a woman."

  • Just saying...
  • Okay, my friends, seriously, if you haven't heard from me in a while, please check for my cold, stiff body. I'm sure to rile some zealots with this post. Heh!

    **Update:

    RW: Ckeck out my blog. You're preaching to the choir. I am all for the religious right getting the fuck out of my party and I've blogged about it too many times to count. That said, this issue can not just be put on Republicans.

    I know Democrats hate to do some belly-button gazing, but Obama, as the president elect and arguably the head of the Democratic party, is AGAINST GAY MARRIAGE. Hmmm...

    How about the Democratic SENATE MAJORITY leader Harry Reid who is vocal is his opposition to gay marriage and did vote FOR the Defense of MArriage Act.

    DEM-O-CRATs can and ARE bigots too. Again, this bigotry graces both sides of the aisle.

    2nd Update:

    Okay, RW, for argument's sake let's say I WILL CONCEDE that the Republican religious right elites made anti-gay marriage positions as "their masthead" and let's say I ALSO AGREE TO YOUR PREMISE that we ignore the "petty, pandering, expedient kind the Democrats have" such as PRESIDENT ELECT BARACK OBAMA and SENATE MAJORITY LEADER HARRY REID, then who is to blame?

    A small bunch of elitist, religious members of the Republican party who have little voice in California politics or the millions and millions of DEMOCRATS that actually voted for Prop. 8?

    So we discount the hatred in those wee Democratic hearts? Sigh.

    All I am trying to say is the blame goes both ways.

    What's worse? The "institutionalized bigotry?" Or the silent bigotry in the hearts of many so-called liberals that voted in those booths to take away a human being's fundamental right? Bradley effect much?

    The in-your-face bigotry or the silent-insidious-hypocritical bigotry? I would rather know my enemy than not realize who they really are? I would rather know that a friend/champion like Obama will bring change and hope in one breath and have that very same bigotry that "a marriage is between one man and one woman" is his heart.

    Yes, Faiga, it's semantics. Whether he supports a constitutional ban, the bigotry is in his heart nonetheless.

    Comments by Scout's Honor

    comment by Scout's Honor Thursday, November 6, 2008 @ 12:27 pm

    Tuesday, November 4, 2008

    Magic Eight Ball: Will I be a graceful loser?


    Magic 8 Ball
    Question: Will McCain and Palin take the election?

    ________________________________


    No Way!

    Sigh. Yep, I'm resigned although I did vote over 3 weeks ago absentee. I voted before the Voter's Pamphlet came out. So my question is, why oh why would you stand in these three hour lines like I am seeing on the Today Show. Can anyone tell me why a stamp less than a 1/2 dollar is worth more than THREE or more hours of your time...much less braving storms and paying gas and missing work??

    So, I am thinking Obama for at least four years. Hold onto your wallets, my friends, it's going to be a rough ride.

    I don't even want to think of Iraq and Afganistan...

    Okay, I am really hoping it all turns out. I am afraid, but clinging to hope.

    Asshat Gardners and Over-achieving Moms


    Tap. Tap. Tap.

    Ahem.

    Yes, It's been almost a week since my last post. I'm recuperating. Working four days straight in the classroom starting with an art docent free-for-all with acrylic paint, sand, glue, sequins, water colors, oil pastels... Then moving on to reading to 4th graders. Let's not forget three hours with 1st graders again. Followed by heading up the 1st grade party with little help. Then there was carving pumpkins before Halloween night. Then trick of treating went pretty late on Friday. Then a 9 AM birthday party for PB requiring a 45 minute round trip followed by her birthday party at the Seattle Humane society Saturday night with TWENTY-SEVEN farking guests (not counting rabbits, dogs, and cats petted). Then let's get up early Sunday for a brunch with college friends. Then swimming. Always swimming.

    So, end result, I had Halloween crap, Halloween party crap, Birthday party crap, half-carved pumpkin crap, and Art floating on every surface in my house. Today, I can see the kitchen island? How? I moved it all to the floor.

    Sigh. It's progress.

    Speaking of progress in the great leafy Northwest, I've almost got ever leaf off the front lawn which is saying something since my neighbors' asshole gardeners blow the leaves into my yard so they don't have to pick it up. I finally caught one in the act last week. I had spent three hours (no blower) cleaning up leaves and came out to see my lawn covered and the guy blowing it in to my yard.

    I gave him a piece of my mind and he cleaned most of it up.

    Note to self, be there every Thursday to catch asshat gardners.

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