I Need A Personal Assistant!

That’s it. I need a personal assistant. Like badly. I’m sure I forgot to do something this week that really needs to get done, and I’ll be reminded of it at a REALLY inconvenient time. I can feel it in my bones. When I remember, I’ll make every effort not to freak out, and fail miserably. Oddly enough, I’ll feel better afterwards. A good ole fashioned tantrum sometimes fixes things. Right? RIGHT!? I just need to become “Indifferent Ann” to get through this lovely phase. She’s gotten me through some fun times. She rocks actually. Her name is Sasha. She gets me through my 40 hour work week, and helps me deal with stupid people.

Thanks to those friends that check in on me periodically. I’m still here. Crazy, but here. I couldn’t make it to your shindig, because I probably fell asleep at 7:50pm on that Friday night after breaking up a fight over a box or something. That sent me over the threshold of exhaustion. Thanks for thinking of me, and still being there. I was happy to get the invite. One day soon, I’ll make it by or have you over. If you happen to come over unannounced, I will let you in. I’m aware that every color marker AND crayon is on the wall. I’ll probably bring it to your attention, so you know, that I know it’s there. Stupid little mind thing I do with myself that makes no sense. In some weird way, it makes me feel better because you’ll say, “Oh don’t worry about it!”  Never fails. I have a paint palate strategically placed, so it looks like we’re about to get started painting soon. HA! Whatever.

At some point in time, my little one will want to watch Caillou. Dearest Canada, a lot of cool things have come from your country. Caillou is not one of them.

Peanut Butter

The WonderBra

IMAX

Alex Trebek (Don’t judge me)

Instant Replay

Paint Rollers (that won’t get used by me anytime soon)

The Odometer

Egg Cartons

My husband brought the fact up that someone actually thought up the character of Caillou. THEN get this! Someone else said: “Yeah great idea!” I want to slap the second person actually. The first person was just having a moment of idiocracy. It was the second person’s job to stop all that madness. Thanks Canada. Thanks a lot. The door to the garage sometimes opens on its own. So if you see the door open, please shut it. You have to slam it. There is an opportunistic wild rabbit that realized this and tries to get in the house (of course there is). If you see this little said rabbit in the house, don’t worry. Rudy is harmless, and not rabid. Just grab the hamper, open the front door, and help me shoo him out. No, I don’t know what that Alaska size spot on the rug is from. We’ve stared at it, we’ve tried to clean it. It’s just become a part of the family. Its name is now Ted.

Back to this personal assistant thing. They should be government issued individuals to those in need. Oh that made me smile. I think that would really assist in making a better country, and helping to raise well-adjusted children. Perhaps baskets of socks with no mates wouldn’t exist. That’s huge right there. Please don’t go over the logistics with me on this. You’ll get glared at. Just leave it as is, and smile with me. Please and thank you ; )

Trayvon Martin

I I don’t doubt that GZ was beaten up by Trayvon. If someone comes at me in the dark, with a gun & is hell bent on attacking me, I am going to do what I can to prevent that from happening. I would be scared out of my mind, as I am certain Trayvon was. If that means beat that person up, then so be it. Trayvon was standing HIS ground. GZ should have stayed in his car. If he thought Trayvon was roaming the neighborhood looking for trouble, then GZ should have left that for the police to deal with. Who does he think he is? Why did he feel the need to get out of his car, confront Trayvon with a gun, then shoot him in the heart? Who appointed him judge, jury and executioner??? GZ attacked him, then Trayvon fought back. THEN GZ said it was self defense. GZ created the situation that caused him to say self defense. I am glad Trayvon got a few good licks in before he was murdered. GZ’s deer in the headlights look doesn’t fool me. GZ and GZ alone is responsible for all of this. No one else. If he stayed in his car, Trayvon would have been allowed to just go home like he was trying to do. GZ is beyond guilty and the ultimate bully, and should go to jail. Trayvon is the one that came across a thug that night not GZ. At the end of the day, someone’s son was taken from them. Someone’s son is on trial for murder. If only GZ just stayed in his car . . . .

My Childless Adventure!

Let me preface this by saying I love my kids. HOWEVER ; ) I had a wonderful time on my lunch break walking through Menards looking at patio furniture without wondering: “Where did she go!” or hearing “Mommy can I have this?” No . . . you don’t need a power drill. “But mom whyyyy!!!!!!!!” Just me, myself, and my Icee. Good Times at Menards – Good Times : )

My 8 year old self would be so very disappointed that this type of adventure brings me so much joy/elation. The Icee topped it off though. If I slurped it right, it kind of tasted like a very loaded Pina Colada.  It was almost the equivalent of this Nebraska girl sitting on a beach. I don’t get to partake in these types of childless wanderings very often. I almost felt like it was illegal. It was like an etheral deam sequence from an 80’s movie. Seeing the red patio set made me it all that much more illegal. I can’t justify buying it, but I plan on doing just that. It’s cute. I think my 8 year old self would actually like it!

Night in an old house . . .

Old houses. Old haunted houses especially. I get a kick out of watching television shows about them. They scare me half witless. I then find comfort in knowing I can turn off the television, and feel safe again. Safe in my new house with only the history I have created with my growing brood. One would think that with all of the ghost shows I watch that I would jump at the chance to go stay in one of those grande old beauties. Ummm . . . Not so much. I mean part of me revels at the idea. The other part wants to tuck tail and say thanks but not thanks.I like that it’s over there and I’m over here. I want to look through that window or door, but I don’t really want to walk through it.

So as I write this I am sitting in a bed and breakfast in Nebraska City. A  house that was built in 1878. Yes, 1878. I am feeling a bit eek-ish. I moved from the parlor, to write this in the den where I felt just a tad bit less stared at. What the heck is staring at me? I can’t click off the television show I am in, so here I sit. Kind of cold. Don’t you feel kind of cold when a ghost is around? Yes . . . yes you do. I of all people know that. I am certain a lot went on here. The energy I feel is actually indifferent though. The inn keeper seems chipper. Not drained of all her energy like she’s trying to ward off something that says REDRUM all the time. I assumed that if she lives here and she seems pretty stable then all is well.

How did I get here? My mom received a B&B gift card for a one nights stay for her, and my dad. My dad would rather shoot someone in the foot, and go to jail for it than do the B&B thing. Just not his style. The look on his face when she opened her gift was priceless. I think I heard him say “Cripes” under his breath. Growing up he would say that instead of the “S” word to protect our virgin ears I guess. To me “Cripes” IS a curse word. So pops said Say La Vie (happily I might add) as my mom, sister, and my two kiddo’s took off on a drive about an hour away from home.

Ok, so it’s a little after midnight right now. You may be wondering if anyone has said “boo” yet. NO – Thank God!!! I just hadn’t blogged in awhile and felt the need to write because I kind of feel uneasy right now and everyone is sleep. I can’t sleep. This is turning out to be more of a diary entry lol.

Call me old fashioned, but I was under the impression that you couldn’t ask for snacks while in time-out. Granted, she’s two and maybe doesn’t know the rules yet. However, I would think that asking for a tasty morsel would be an obvious “no no”. I mean, she was in trouble for having one her epic tantrums. I think. She’s always in trouble for something, that I sometimes don’t know why I am carrying her upstairs to her place of exile. 

So I place her in her crib. Legs flailing, and shrieking as though I’m about to drop her into a dark hole. It’s a pretty pink and white crib for goodness sake. I’d trade places with her in heart beat if I didn’t think the thing would break. The perfect place for a nap. She sits there Indian style screaming to get out, while her hands are gripped tightly around the bars. She did that on purpose to try and make her mother feel bad for putting her youngest in a jail like setting. I did not feel a twinge of remorse. I left the door open and went about my business of doing laundry, and whatever else I could think of during this time when I didn’t have her under foot. About 5 minutes go by, and she’s still freaking out. Then I hear silence. I pop my head in, and she’s staring at me as though she is really thinking hard about something. Trying to find just the right words. As our eyes meet, I tilt my head to the side, and feel in the air that this child isn’t done. The look in her eyes was one of pure confidence. I secretly admired that. I swear I heard that old west music when tumble weeds go by, and town folk are closing their shutters before the two men in black have a shoot out.

Ok, I thought, as I turned away. Then clear as a bell I hear . . . “Rice Krispy Treat and Juice?”. Stopped me in my tracks cold. Did she just ask for a snack while in time-out? Really? The concept was foreign to me. Who does that? Did she just ask in a sweet cute little voice, as though she was in a park with the family flying a kite? Really? I came to the conclusion that she knew exactly what she was doing. She calmed herself down before asking. She thought that would aid in her quest to jimmy this out of me. Of course I would say no if she’s screaming at me freaking out. Then, during said tantrum, ask for a snack? She knew. Oh she knew. Prior to her time-out, she just had lunch and about 8 gallons of milk, so she was good to go.

I turned back to look at her. By now she’s standing up and looking at me as if to say . . . . “I’m quiet and I’m CUTE! Now gimme a snack while I languish in this purgatory.” Perhaps bread, and a tiny bit of water would have been more fitting in this instance. There was no way I could say yes to her request. (She’s had this quiet lull in past time outs. It’s a way to be set free and resume the badness. So I let the calm settle for a bit.) Let’s get this over with. “No”. I didn’t yell it. I simply said; “No”. Well . . . You would have thought I threw down some snapping rabid alligators, trailed by angry pit bulls and one rotweiller for good measure into her deep dark time-out abyss. Oh and throw in a cat. It doesn’t even have a be a tiger or anything.  A regular cute cuddly house cat will suffice. She hates cats.

She threw her little arms up, and flung herself back as though her life was over. She let out a scream that I have never heard from her before, or since actually. In her world, there was no hope for anything else ever again. I am quite certain she got an ab workout during that tantrum. I had to shut her door for this one. After about 15 minutes pass, I hear silence – Again. Half scared, I check in on her. She’s sound asleep. Thank God!!! It is sooooo tiring being bad.

My Mudroom Fascination

I am not sure when it started, but I seem to have a love of mudrooms. Something about them that just says “home”. Yeah, that may sound corny, but they really do! I know they are supposed to be drop off/pass through points. But they make me just want to linger.

Below are some of my faves that I have come across:

This one is simple, and to the point. Reminds me of a mudroom in a 1940’s house. No pish posh is added here, which I kinda like. Need an umbrella? It’s on the knobs.

This one below caught my eye because of the black table and black hardware. Ok, the pretty flowers and candle caught my eye, too. For some reason it reminds me of coming in from an awful snowstorm, and “Thank God we’re home!”

This one gave me a-grandmother-in-the-woods, and my grand-daughter, Little-Red-Riding-Hood-is-about-to-come-in-with-my- snacks type feel. However, something tells me that kids don’t live here. Very pretty though.

The Pet Friendly Mudroom: This one made me smile. Until I saw the dog in the cage. I’m hoping he’s being held there for his visit to the vet because he runs away type thing. At any rate, I really like this one. Mostly because I’ve never come across a doggie mudroom before, and it’s just so darn cute.

To me this one invokes an image of the school house on Little House on the Prairie. I have no idea why. I’m just going with LHOTP. Ahhhh . . . maybe it’s because there are so many hooks, and storage places – duh. Gives you that school feel.

 This one says: “I’m in an apartment in NYC.” Maybe your saying “HUH” to that. But, that’s the image I have – utilization of a small space. Mudrooms don’t have to be this grandeous thing that you have to spend tons of money on. I bought that same shoe rack at Wal-Mart for about $15.00. Voila!!! Instant shoe station! The bench is just adorable. The chalkboard with the white frame and the pink baskets set it off : )

This stairwell mudroom is the bomb.com. How can you NOT love this one? You can turn the corner and OMG there’s more!

STOP THE PRESS! Are you kidding me?! This one makes me want to shut the door and put up a sign that reads “Go Away”.  There’s really no place to lounge. I don’t know what I would do in there. Climb the ladder maybe? Who thinks of that? I’m pretty sure this one is in a mansion that was built in 1902. The Astor descendants perhaps? Who cares. Love love love this! Not one, but TWO chandeliers!

The accidental mudroom: I like this one because something tells me they didn’t plan it. Bet it’s on a farm in Surry, England. It works. I have those same hunter boots that live in my mudroom just so I can get this effect. Thanks to my sis in CA for that awesome Christmas gift! Big, black-black boots always make a mudroom. 🙂

For some reason, I picture the owner of this mudroom being a seasoned newpaper editor. Looks like it might have been here for awhile and this person has all their ducks lined up. I didn’t like it at first, but, I kept coming back to it. It was probably the dog staring at me. He’s cute. This one can work.

Last, but most certainly, not least – The pink and green mudroom ; ) Just pretty to look at. You can ONLY have pink and green items in it though.

Thanks for taking a LOOK at my mudroom world! : )

Two year old monster.

We just witnessed the worst 2 yr old tantrum EVER! After about 45 minutes we (her dad, sister and I ) were secretly impressed. She was not giving up. We do plan on honing that. At any rate, the little Crutcher monster is now sleeping “all that bad” off. I have to remember – she’s one of our two little blessings : )

Meeting white people

I like when I meet a white person, and I realize that they have other black friends. I hate when I am a white person’s only black friend. I don’t mind white people as friends but as far as their world goes, it’s like uncharted territory and you aren’t sure how everyone in their circle will react. But when you see another black person, it’s like territory already charted. “Oh they went to your home and no one lynched em, cool”. I know I’m exaggerating and I’m pulling in Mississippi circa 1952.  The most I would probably get would be overhearing . . . “Um, you’re friends with HER?” Good Lord, I’m out! But even that might be extreme. It’s more along the lines of quick glances and a fake smile from across the room. Strategically across the room.

Also, when you go into a new town and see only white people you feel unsafe until you see a black person for some reason. Well me anyway. When you finally do see one, you look them over to make sure they look right, and they don’t look scared like someone is chasing them. If all looks well, then I know I’m safe.

My journal entries from 9-11-2001 and after . . .

September 11, 2011

After the events of 9-11-2001, I felt the need to take pen to paper and write down my thoughts in my journal. It may sound disjointed in parts, because I was of course numb and confused  by what was taking place. I didn’t put a whole lot of thought into it like I do with my other writings. It was just “at that moment”. So I’m not putting this out to be some kind of great writing. It wasn’t something I thought about in terms of “This needs to be great”,  but just my thoughts from that time and the sadness I felt.Also, I felt the need to quote what I was hearing.  What I didn’t note, because I heard about it after these writings, was one of the youngest victims was a two year old little girl who was on one of the planes. The same age as my Emmy.I shudder to think what the parents were feeling.  God Bless those that lost their lives and those that felt the impact of their loved ones gone.

September 11, 2001 at 12:20pm

It’s a horrible day in American history. It’s going on now as I write. This morning a small plan crashed into the World Trade Center in NYC. Everyone thought maybe it was an accident. But then while we were watching the smoke coming from the building, a bigger jet liner crashes into the other WTC. They were hi-jacked. Then a plan crashed into the pentagon in DC and part of it is gone.

It’s all so bad. Jet liners were hi-jacked. Four total. NYC looks like a war zone. All planes in the United States have been grounded. The WTC has collapsed. A plane crashed into the ground in Pennsylvania. They think it may have been en route to the white house.

20,000 or more people are thought to have been in the WTC when the planes hit. People were trapped inside when it collapsed. Fires are burning all throughout the city. It’s like a horrible war zone. I want it to stop. It’s so sad. A lot of people have died. Federal buildings across America are shut down.

My dad’s office is near the base hospital and someone emailed a threat to them (hospital) about a bomb. So we closed the office. I’m scared. Disney World and Disney Land are closed down. We don’t know if it’s over. I hope so. My nephew is on a field trip in San Francisco at some park. The Golden Gate Bridge is closed so Kathy can’t get to him. The middle east is behind this. They’re so crazy. What’s going on? I’m stunned and shocked.

“4 planed were hi-jacked and used and guided missiles today” Tom Brokaw

“It’s not the U.S against terrorism it’s the democratic nations against terrorism and we need to stop this evil, and stand by our American brother’s and sister’s. ” Tony Blair, British Prime Minister

Why is this world so bad? Huge plumes of smoke ripped through the streets in lower Manhattan. Osama Bin Laden was/is upset about the friendly relationship between the U.S. and Israel. I hope the attacks are over. This has been called the second Pearl Harbor. I feel so bad. People are walking on the Manhattan bridge by the thousands walking home to Brooklyn and surrounding areas, because that’s the only way to get home.

“Each generation faces a challenge. This is the Pearl Harbor of our day” Sen Chuck Hagel (R) Nebraska

President Bush is here in Bellevue at Offutt AFB. They have a really good communications network and an underground shelter. I’m not sure where the Vice President is.  

“It’s among the most secure military headquarters in the world” Tom Brokaw.

I am glad I’m home with my parent’s. Winnie,Tertia, and Kathy are all in California. Sacramento and Sunnyvale. I’ve talked to them. I just want Justin to come back from his camping trip. Randall is going to stay here tonight.

September 11, 2001 at 10:47pm

I took a nap & for a second when I woke up none of this happened. Then I looked at the footage of the jet liner crashing into the World Trade Center. It’s like a surreal dream, or blockbuster movie. You’re so happy that you feel safe and it was just a movie. Only this is real, and in a terribly tragic way. We don’t know if it’s over, or if there’s more. I’m afraid to go to sleep, because of what I might see in the morning.

I feel like this is all so close to me. Like something could happen to my family. I feel invaded as though it’s not safe in the U.S. You watch TV and flip through the channels and see that Tel Aviv got bombed for example. But is so far away and sadly that doesn’t register. But this does. I’m scared. I hope God helps us.

September 12, 2001 @ 7:36am

That awful horrible day is over but now we’re a different nation. I hope God comes closer to us. Nothing else has happened. The whole rest of the world condemns this. Even Fidel Castro in Cuba and he’s a crazy dictator. Iraq even condemns it. I just hope we can get through this. People (some) called their relatives from the hi-jacked planes to tell them was what happening : ( Some of the Arabs that condone and did this are horrible people. Why? I pray that is world will some day be a better place. How can something created by God be so awful?

September 15, 2001 – Saturday. Sometime after 2am.

I wish it were all a bad dream. I fear the anti-christ may be here. His name is Osama Bin Laden, and he’s from the middle east. I pray to God and Jesus, Archangel Michael and all the angels to protect us from this evil.

September 16, 2001 – Sunday 5am or so.

An odd but nice sense of calm has come over me. I know God is here with us, and he hears all the cries. The people that died are in heaven now. Osama Bin Laden will one day meet his maker. He will have to answer to this terror. He doesn’t understand that all that hate & evil is pointless. We may not know where he is, but the Lord is watching him. One day he will look into the eyes of God and be cast down to eternal terror. Good always prevails.

My little one is the bitee

I read an article on one of those mom blogs that really made me think about the other side of the bite world. From a perspective of – Ok maybe their parent’s aren’t ghouls like I made them out to be. However, your mind does what it needs to do to protect your little one from those chompers in the daycare.

This Too Shall Pass by Sarah Hood of  “musings of motherhood”

http://www.sarahmcow.com/my_weblog/2011/04/this-too-shall-pass.html

Here is my reply that I posted, with some random tweeks that I added to make it more bloggy : )

I’m the mom of a bitee. Your article mused and informed me. I unrealistically thought of the other side of moms and dads being like – ehhhh whatever. I know that isn’t the case and always knew that, but looking at that bite bruise on 4 separate bite occasions makes me say aaargh! – do they have biting practice at night before they go to bed! Yeah I know you don’t : ) – – But like you said, that “mama bear” comes out and you make the other side out to be a 1 eyed gremlin just going around chomping everyone. This being learned from their 1 eyed gremlin parents. Again, I know deep down that isn’t the case but that tiny sized baby bite packs a powerful punch.

One day out of the blue my daughter said who bit her. The earth stopped. This was the evidence I needed! I don’t know why. It’s not like I’m going to do anything with this information. Maybe I felt like I got over cause as you know they won’t disclose that tidbit. So you’re left to scan the room and wonder which one is the the little pint sized vampire. At any rate, I just really wanted to look at this little girl with new found bite eyes. I half expected to see a little baby monster with sharp teeth. What I saw was the usual little cutie pie that stares at me every morning and says hi in her cute little two year old voice.

Though, signing the accident report just breaks my heart. I look at my little one and want to quit my job, scoop and run for the hills and live off the land. Yes, it’s normal behavior and I suppose my heartache from it is too. Sorry to be so dramatic. So I am waiting patiently/impatiently for my “This Too Shall Pass.”

Hang in there mama – as will I : ) Thanks for the article