September 18, 2008
Mmm, Mmm, Good
Dinner was peanut butter & crackers and microwave popcorn. My poor, neglected children.
September 17, 2008
I'm Pure Nerd
So I took the Nerd, Dork or Geek Test and I'm (Misty, obviously) Pure Nerd. Here's my results, as if you're interested:
So when am I likely to be Purely Successful instead of just Pure Nerd?
Pure Nerd
52 % Nerd, 22% Geek, 43% Dork
For The Record:
A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.
You scored better than half in Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd.
The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendencies associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful.
Congratulations!
So when am I likely to be Purely Successful instead of just Pure Nerd?
September 16, 2008
Cheap Thrills
You may not believe this, but it's true. Yes, yes, I kid you not. People can change and I'm evidence of that. I've become a devout follower of tightwaddery. (Is that a word?) Yes, moi! I loves me a great bargain. And I'm not talking about the sale rack of Nordstroms or Dillard's or Macy's. Noooo. Not even the clearance rack of Target, though I still like to browse that one. Nope. I proudly proclaim that the vast majority of our clothes, shoes and toys come from Goodwill, St. Vincent dePaul, yard sales and various rummage sales. And don't forget Freecycle! (This does not include Jay. His skin's too good for "used" clothes, so he rarely gets any new clothes since they cost too much.) And it's so much fun! It's all about the hunt, baby, and how cheap I got my name-brand ensembles compared to other's, and they paid full retail! Crazy.
Just walk through our little cozy home and I can tell you, though it's tacky and crass, where I got which items and for how little. He he hehehe. (Insert evil witch laugh here.) And even better than cheap is FREE. Case in point, our TVs.
Now the little TV in the kitchen my parents got me in high school. (Pretty sad, but in our house of five growing up, we had 8 TVs and phones in all our rooms.) So that TV still works and keeps me company as I, when the mood strikes, cook or clean in my kitchen; never at the same time or on the same day, of course. TV #2 is the massive, hideous monstrosity in our basement--the 35" Jay bought in his single days when he had money to spend and only himself to spend it on. It's dated and as deep as it is wide but it still works and we enjoy it. And then we've got #3, a FREE TV from some friends that they didn't have room for. (Thanks again, Matt and Angie! We love you!) Now we replaced the remote with a $5 universal one and there's a slight whine but we just turn up the volume to drown that out. Add rabbit ears to all the sets and we're good to go!
So Jay comes home a week or so ago and says that his co-workers claim they get more channels with the HDTV converter box. Say it ain't so?! Alas, in our frugality, we'd eliminated cable TV soon after we moved here for law school, aka livin' and lovin' on student loans. Plus, in case you haven't noticed, there's a lot of trash out there on TV. It was a painful withdrawal from FoodTV and HGTV, but I just get my fix when I'm at Mom's. So more channels? Show me the way!
Jay hooks us up and SCORE! Double the channels and for FREE! It's like cable for cheapies. Looove it. Now instead of 2 PBS stations, we now get 12, yes 12 various PBS stations. AND at least 2 of those are all-day cartoons. Now it's just like we've got Nick Jr. or Disney, but it's free. And, all three old TVs, well at least 2 until we buy another box, have better pictures and sound. That little whine is almost gone. So life's good--it feels like we've got new TVs, new channels and we didn't spend anything. (Besides buying the boxes, duh.) Makes me want to kick Jay for letting them sit in the sack in the basement for 3 months.
Just walk through our little cozy home and I can tell you, though it's tacky and crass, where I got which items and for how little. He he hehehe. (Insert evil witch laugh here.) And even better than cheap is FREE. Case in point, our TVs.
Now the little TV in the kitchen my parents got me in high school. (Pretty sad, but in our house of five growing up, we had 8 TVs and phones in all our rooms.) So that TV still works and keeps me company as I, when the mood strikes, cook or clean in my kitchen; never at the same time or on the same day, of course. TV #2 is the massive, hideous monstrosity in our basement--the 35" Jay bought in his single days when he had money to spend and only himself to spend it on. It's dated and as deep as it is wide but it still works and we enjoy it. And then we've got #3, a FREE TV from some friends that they didn't have room for. (Thanks again, Matt and Angie! We love you!) Now we replaced the remote with a $5 universal one and there's a slight whine but we just turn up the volume to drown that out. Add rabbit ears to all the sets and we're good to go!
So Jay comes home a week or so ago and says that his co-workers claim they get more channels with the HDTV converter box. Say it ain't so?! Alas, in our frugality, we'd eliminated cable TV soon after we moved here for law school, aka livin' and lovin' on student loans. Plus, in case you haven't noticed, there's a lot of trash out there on TV. It was a painful withdrawal from FoodTV and HGTV, but I just get my fix when I'm at Mom's. So more channels? Show me the way!
Jay hooks us up and SCORE! Double the channels and for FREE! It's like cable for cheapies. Looove it. Now instead of 2 PBS stations, we now get 12, yes 12 various PBS stations. AND at least 2 of those are all-day cartoons. Now it's just like we've got Nick Jr. or Disney, but it's free. And, all three old TVs, well at least 2 until we buy another box, have better pictures and sound. That little whine is almost gone. So life's good--it feels like we've got new TVs, new channels and we didn't spend anything. (Besides buying the boxes, duh.) Makes me want to kick Jay for letting them sit in the sack in the basement for 3 months.
August 20, 2008
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Please tell me it's not just me! I've come to dread Sunday mornings. It's the most awefull, painful and agonizing time of my whole week! I swear we'd stop going to church if I didn't need the chance to repent of all my sins so much. Jay's got 7 AM meetings so he's long gone and not handy when I'm trying to get myself ready (A major feat, let me tell you. Like trying to get this 3-baby-bearing, C-section-scarred, jiggly goo of a gut restrained in pantyhose or my whole-body girdle. Makes me shudder even now.) as well as three monkeys! It's like herding cats, I tell ya.
Parker whining "I don't want to go to church" and staring blankly at his toast. Eat it already! And then wrestling Merritt into her dress--I'm literally down on the floor, holding her down and doing up snaps, buttons, zippers and then shoving her feet into the socks and shoes. "You WILL wear this adorable dress and matching hair bow and you'll be beautiful while you're at it! NO, don't lay down or sit on the couch or roll all around on the floor. You'll wrinkle!" And of course, by now my hair has dried with spikes on the left and limp lumps on the right and then Spencer starts crying. Great! Now I've got to nurse him, make sure I'm not leaking like a faucet, dress him--"Please don't spit up, please don't spit up, please--Dang it! You've spit up all over your adorable romper and cute shoes! Well, you'll just have to look stained and stink like curdled cheese 'cause we're late."
And so I slap some makeup on (Yes, my face does intentionally look like war paint,) slip on my "Mom" church shoes (When did I get so old that I've started picking dressy shoes based on comfort and not style?), strap everyone in (after chasing Merritt around the van 3 times,) back out and hit the truck parked opposite my driveway. "Oh well, I'm in a hurry and any fool would know not to park directly across from a driveway and it's only a little scratch and a ding and a...anyway, I'm leaving." And I floor it.
I kid you not about the dented truck. And this Sunday, during the Indy 500 to church ("We're getting there in time for the sacrament, by golly.") Parker asked me, "Mom, is it fast Sunday?" (Note to self: have a FHE about fasting.) "No, honey, it's not fast Sunday." Before I could launch into a hurried explanation of fasting, while watching out for cops and yellow lights, he said "Then why do you have to drive so fast?"
Hmm, good question. Isn't the point of going to church to feel peaceful and open to the Spirit? How come someone's always crying on the way to church and most likely it's me? Yeah, we might make it in time for the sacrament, slipping in during the last verse of the sacrament hymn, but am I spiritually ready for it? We're all grumpy, with hurt feelings and we're supposed to be ready to be spiritually fed.
So I'm changing my ways (I mean it this time.) I think it's more important that we get to church in an attitude of reverence and peace than make it on time. So we'll drive at a legal pace, cross my fingers that the hymns are long and pray that Jay gets a new calling.
The end.
Parker whining "I don't want to go to church" and staring blankly at his toast. Eat it already! And then wrestling Merritt into her dress--I'm literally down on the floor, holding her down and doing up snaps, buttons, zippers and then shoving her feet into the socks and shoes. "You WILL wear this adorable dress and matching hair bow and you'll be beautiful while you're at it! NO, don't lay down or sit on the couch or roll all around on the floor. You'll wrinkle!" And of course, by now my hair has dried with spikes on the left and limp lumps on the right and then Spencer starts crying. Great! Now I've got to nurse him, make sure I'm not leaking like a faucet, dress him--"Please don't spit up, please don't spit up, please--Dang it! You've spit up all over your adorable romper and cute shoes! Well, you'll just have to look stained and stink like curdled cheese 'cause we're late."
And so I slap some makeup on (Yes, my face does intentionally look like war paint,) slip on my "Mom" church shoes (When did I get so old that I've started picking dressy shoes based on comfort and not style?), strap everyone in (after chasing Merritt around the van 3 times,) back out and hit the truck parked opposite my driveway. "Oh well, I'm in a hurry and any fool would know not to park directly across from a driveway and it's only a little scratch and a ding and a...anyway, I'm leaving." And I floor it.
I kid you not about the dented truck. And this Sunday, during the Indy 500 to church ("We're getting there in time for the sacrament, by golly.") Parker asked me, "Mom, is it fast Sunday?" (Note to self: have a FHE about fasting.) "No, honey, it's not fast Sunday." Before I could launch into a hurried explanation of fasting, while watching out for cops and yellow lights, he said "Then why do you have to drive so fast?"
Hmm, good question. Isn't the point of going to church to feel peaceful and open to the Spirit? How come someone's always crying on the way to church and most likely it's me? Yeah, we might make it in time for the sacrament, slipping in during the last verse of the sacrament hymn, but am I spiritually ready for it? We're all grumpy, with hurt feelings and we're supposed to be ready to be spiritually fed.
So I'm changing my ways (I mean it this time.) I think it's more important that we get to church in an attitude of reverence and peace than make it on time. So we'll drive at a legal pace, cross my fingers that the hymns are long and pray that Jay gets a new calling.
The end.
Go for the Gold, Baby!
OK, call me shallow, judgmental, superficial--I'll do it. I'm shallow, judgmental and superficial but I have an issue with Michael Phelps. It's great that he's won 15 gold medals--wowza! My problem is his head.
Specifically his ears and teeth! The rest of his body: great. But his ears stick out goofily (is that a word?) and it seems-especially when he talks-as if he has way more teeth than will fit comfortably in his mouth. Now I realize he doesn't care one whit what a chumpy (combination of frumpy and chubby) mom like me thinks, but I still think he looks a bit odd. So that's it. Call me un-American if you must.
Specifically his ears and teeth! The rest of his body: great. But his ears stick out goofily (is that a word?) and it seems-especially when he talks-as if he has way more teeth than will fit comfortably in his mouth. Now I realize he doesn't care one whit what a chumpy (combination of frumpy and chubby) mom like me thinks, but I still think he looks a bit odd. So that's it. Call me un-American if you must.
August 16, 2008
My Dad
Have you ever hurt yourself bad before? Like really, really stub your toe or break an arm or even have two C-sections to bring new, scrawny beings into the world? And the pain is so sharp and deep that it steals your breath and you gasp at the shock to your body, how unexpected it is. I mean all you were doing was making the bed or trying to rescue a kitten or fulfill the commandment to go forth and multiply. And then WHACK! You're stumbling, coughing, trying not to lose it and cry like your toddler.
No phone call in the middle of the night is good. Well, it was 6 AM, but I was deep asleep and knew instantly it wasn't good. Mom said "I think Daddy's dead." WHAT? "I think your dad just died." And the denial, packing quick, waking up sleeping babies and the anxious hour-long drive. No, it can't be. And then the call on the road--yep, he's gone. Don't bother going to the hospital, just come straight to Mom's house.
My dad died suddenly on May 30th, 2007. He'd been suffering from a muscle disease and couldn't walk well or hold things well and steps were virtually impossible. But despite the mobility issues, he was in good health. Then he gets up one morning, talking to Mom and he's gone. The doctor signed off as a heart attack, but I truly think it was a blood clot since he got such little exercise and movement.
Man, life is so hard sometimes! It's been a rough year on all of us, especially my mom. The weekends are the worst and she's usually at either my house or my sister's. It's just too quiet and empty at home. She's said that this second year is harder than the first year, and she's right. Sometimes, when I'm in the middle of changing a diaper or wiping a dirty face or tickling a chubby tummy, I think of him and just lose my breath. I miss him.
But I know, without a doubt, that he's in a better place. He can walk freely and feels good. And although it's sad that Parker said he can't remember what Bowen looks like and Merritt won't remember him and Spencer won't even know him, we'll all be reunited one day. And we'll run to each other and hug and talk about all the things that have happened since we were last together. And we'll rejoice that we all made it.
With Spencer being a scheduled c-section, I got to pretty much pick a date. So Spencer was born on my dad's birthday, April 30th, as a gift and tribute to him. And Spencer has Dad's middle name: Thomas.
We love you, Dad. And we miss you a lot.
No phone call in the middle of the night is good. Well, it was 6 AM, but I was deep asleep and knew instantly it wasn't good. Mom said "I think Daddy's dead." WHAT? "I think your dad just died." And the denial, packing quick, waking up sleeping babies and the anxious hour-long drive. No, it can't be. And then the call on the road--yep, he's gone. Don't bother going to the hospital, just come straight to Mom's house.
My dad died suddenly on May 30th, 2007. He'd been suffering from a muscle disease and couldn't walk well or hold things well and steps were virtually impossible. But despite the mobility issues, he was in good health. Then he gets up one morning, talking to Mom and he's gone. The doctor signed off as a heart attack, but I truly think it was a blood clot since he got such little exercise and movement.
Man, life is so hard sometimes! It's been a rough year on all of us, especially my mom. The weekends are the worst and she's usually at either my house or my sister's. It's just too quiet and empty at home. She's said that this second year is harder than the first year, and she's right. Sometimes, when I'm in the middle of changing a diaper or wiping a dirty face or tickling a chubby tummy, I think of him and just lose my breath. I miss him.
But I know, without a doubt, that he's in a better place. He can walk freely and feels good. And although it's sad that Parker said he can't remember what Bowen looks like and Merritt won't remember him and Spencer won't even know him, we'll all be reunited one day. And we'll run to each other and hug and talk about all the things that have happened since we were last together. And we'll rejoice that we all made it.
With Spencer being a scheduled c-section, I got to pretty much pick a date. So Spencer was born on my dad's birthday, April 30th, as a gift and tribute to him. And Spencer has Dad's middle name: Thomas.
We love you, Dad. And we miss you a lot.
Hello? Hello, McFly?
So am I the only one on the planet that hasn't read Stephanie Meyer's books? Honestly, I'm freaked out by the whole vampire thing and just can't read them. I guess I must be missing out, especially on the hoopla for Breaking Dawn.
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