tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38237411607206801022024-03-04T23:52:36.695-06:00Ramblings of a Modern MomCrystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-65491088624551646252015-04-25T23:02:00.000-05:002015-04-25T23:02:37.382-05:00Five Must-Do's for a Carnival Cruise<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hubbs and I went on a cruise to Mexico recently to celebrate my 30th birthday. It was amazing! We had so much fun. We went to Cozumel and Progreso through Carnival. If you're planning a Carnival cruise, I have a few "musts" for you:<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>You MUST get the "seasick patch." We didn't get one, but we had everything else for sea-sickness. Well, our second day (first full day at sea) into the cruise, Hubbs got sick and not just a little. He took Dramamine pills, wore Sea-bands, and even used some essential oils that were supposed to help with nausea/motion sickness. Nothing worked. Long story short, we got a patch from a fellow passenger, and it saved our trip! Even if you don't think you'll need them, get the patch just in case. You'll be glad you did!</li>
<li>If you're prone to motion sickness, book a cabin toward the middle of the ship. We were in the front of the ship, with a porthole view, and it was rocky as hell! We could barely stand or get dressed and wanted to get out of the cabin ASAP. It wasn't so bad when lying down, so sleeping wasn't much of an issue for me (my husband would say otherwise). </li>
<li>If you are a heavy drinker, get the Cheers drinking package once on board. When we averaged it out, we figured to come out ahead, we had to drink approximately 10 drinks each day. They limit you to 15/person/day. We are occasional drinkers (I have maybe a bottle of wine a week, he drinks even more seldom than that), and felt we had to push ourselves to come out ahead. We did end up making it worthwhile and it was certainly nice to have one less thing to worry about, but there were a couple of times we just had way too much to drink in order to do so. If this isn't an issue for you, get the package. Not sure if we'll purchase the Cheers package again, but we sure had fun!</li>
<li>Shop around. It's not necessary to book your excursions through the cruise line. They jack up the price all for the "added security" of getting back to the boat on time. In all honesty, the other guys will get you there, too. They know that one bad review can ruin them, so they want to get you back to your boat on time, and ensure you enjoy yourself during your stay. You give good reviews, they continue to offer decent prices on excursions. The trick is to do your research. Look on cruising websites like Cruise Critic and find Facebook groups for your cruise. You can find reviews on excursions and excursion websites alike. Decide which ones you want to do, and which company is the best one to book through. Sometimes you might actually find it's cheaper to go through the cruise line, but for the excursions we wanted, we discovered that it was best to go another route. </li>
<li>Let loose and have fun! Do something you normally wouldn't do. You're on vacation, so act like it. Belt it out at karaoke. Participate in an audience participation game. Shake your groove thing on the dance floor. It's not like you'll ever see these people again, so what if you make a fool of yourself? You're on vacation!</li>
</ol>
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Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-73117316815886706412014-12-05T22:26:00.001-06:002014-12-05T22:26:14.751-06:00Breaking Out of the Box<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My son is a boy. He's a rough and tumble, kind and gentle, wonderful boy. He likes cars and ninjas and those camo pants that I abhor. He sleeps with his stuffed animals and plays pretend with his sister. He loves to accessorize and has fun painting Mama's nails and fixing Mama's hair. My son is a boy.<br /><br />My daughter's a girl. She loves making bracelets and singing in choir. She plays video games and collects Pokemon cards. She hates brushing her hair, doesn't mind getting dirty, and gets along better with boys than she does other girls. My daughter's a girl.<br /><br />Society keeps telling my kids who to be and what they should wear, play with, and say. My son is only six and yet my husband and I already find ourselves correcting the voices that tell him what boys are "supposed to" do and say and play with and watch on tv. My daughter is only nine, and is struggling with her peers' sneering at her for playing with the boys, reading books, and drawing anime characters on her notebook.<br />
<br />
I hate stereotypes. Those tiny boxes, so small you feel trapped and confined in there. Yet, when someone puts you in, it can be so difficult to find your way out again. People are different. We are, by definition, not cut from the same mold. What works for one, doesn't work for all, and what is pleasant for one, can be despicable to another. My husband likes pickles, and I cannot stand the smell of them, much less their sour taste and slimy interior. If this difference can be accepted, so, too, can the differences in gender roles.<br />
<br />
When women in the U.S. first wanted to wear pants instead of dresses and skirts, we were balked at by men and even other women who considered the choice insane and far too liberal. Now we wear pants, shorts, capris, and everything in-between, and no one bats an eye. My hope is that one day my children and their children will see the same tolerance when it comes to the toys they play with and the people they love.<br />
<br />
Let's break the rules and let children be themselves. Let them be children. Why take away their freedoms simply because they are young? I say, if little Johnny wants to play with a doll and wear fairy wings, then he should be allowed to do so without strangers batting an eye. If Suzy wants to dress up as Spiderman and save the princesses instead of being one, more power to her. Let the children like what they like, and you know what? Perhaps they won't be so screwed up once they reach adulthood.</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-43448409137782458302014-11-09T22:00:00.000-06:002014-12-05T22:34:18.570-06:00Talk it out<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I used to subscribe to the thought that some things are better left unsaid. It was worn like a comfortable jacket. If I encountered a dispute, instead of saying what I wanted to say or expressing my opposition, I would just slip on the jacket of silence. It was easier to suppress those feelings than to hurt someone else or get into an argument. Right?<br />
<br />
Girls are taught from a young age that it's rude to argue. Nice girls keep their heads down and stay out of trouble. Women can't be leaders. It's not <i>natural</i>. It's against <i>God's plan</i>. I was told at a young age that I couldn't become president of our country. Women don't lead men. Women can only lead other women. Men are the <i>natural</i> leaders that <i>God has selected</i> and women are to be silent partners; lead by their [male] spouses and submissive to their guidance. After all, Adam knows best. But, I digress...<br />
<br />
It took years after being grown and married to realize that my emotions are my own. My thoughts are meant to be shared. It's perfectly normal and natural to <i style="font-weight: bold;">feel</i>. If I am angry, I can vent to someone. Better yet, I can actually walk up to the person I have issues with and explain to him that he has made me angry and why! What a concept. And you know what? Most of the time, just doing that - talking - fixes the problem (Whoa).<br />
<br />
I can also be happy and proud of who I am. If I accomplish something - small or great - it's ok to be proud of it. I no longer have qualms about sharing my accomplishments or the goals I've met. I also have come to realize that I can't rely on someone else to make me feel happy. I create my own happiness. It comes from within <i>and </i>from without. I have to focus on what makes me happy and go after it. Nothing can stand in my way but me. That said, I no longer allow anyone to downplay my happiness or to tell me that sharing it is in any way harmful to them or to someone else. No. My accomplishments are about me. They don't say anything about you, unless you're directly involved.<br />
<br />
Some things are better left spoken.<br />
<br />
I disagree with your point.<br />
<div>
I have something great happening in my life.<br />
I am frustrated. Hurt. Sad.<br />
I am concerned. Excited. Overwhelmed.<br />
I am bisexual. Gay. Questioning.<br />
I'm not that person you think I am.<br />
<br />
Hang up that jacket. Hang it up for good. It's good to talk about things you're going through. It's cathartic. It's therapeutic. It's wonderful. And if more people would feel comfortable talking about the good and the bad in their lives, I'm convinced there would be fewer suicides in this world. I'm convinced that mankind would be nicer as a whole. Bullies might become something of the past. Depression would become a distant illness.<br />
<br />
Of course, in order for the whole talking thing to work out, we need someone who's willing to listen.</div>
</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-36794140534765403932014-10-14T20:43:00.000-05:002014-10-14T20:43:16.138-05:00"Do Your Research"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ah, the vaccines vs autism argument. I wish I could leave it alone, but I can't. Some people will continue to believe what they want to believe, no matter what evidence they are shown to the contrary.<br />
<br />
Today, I overheard as a first-time dad was told by a stranger that he needed to "watch out for that MMR vaccine" with his newborn. I looked over at the guy and said nonchalantly, "Nah, you're ok. Get the vaccine." Apparently the antivaxxer didn't like that much. She proceeded to tell him that he needed to do his "research" (because she's obviously done hers) and that it affects about one in fifty. "Actually," I informed her, "Studies have shown that autism may be linked to other factors (<a href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/gut-bacteria-may-play-a-role-in-autism/">such as gut bacteria</a>). There's no real evidence to prove that the MMR vaccine or any other vaccines cause autism." She went back and forth with me a bit, as I countered each of her points calmly and with a smile, then turned to the new dad and warned him once again to do his own research, to which he responded, "I'm pretty sure my wife has done all of the research she can." I can only hope that by that he meant, <i>So we're going to guard our kid against these fatal diseases, thank you very much. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
A friend of mine put it perfectly when she said, "Even if I didn't know better, I'd rather take my chances with vaccines causing autism than to have my kid die of polio. Autism I can handle. A dead child, not so much." So many parents fail to realize how terrible these diseases of the not-so-distant past really were. With the rise of misinformation and scare tactics, we're starting to see once eradicated diseases making a comeback in the U.S. <a href="http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs286/en/">Measles</a>, <a href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/mumps.html">mumps</a>, and <a href="http://www.webmd.com/children/tc/rubella-german-measles-topic-overview">rubella</a> are nothing to laugh at. They are serious diseases with serious consequences. As are <a href="http://www.cdc.gov/polio/about/index.htm">polio</a>, <a href="http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/diphtheria/basics/definition/con-20022303">diphtheria</a>, and the like. It's true that some of these illnesses are treatable, but the chances for serious complication or death is too great and the victims suffer through awful symptoms. Why anyone would risk contracting any of these is beyond me. I certainly couldn't fathom watching my child suffer through them.<br />
<br />
We need to continue to vaccinate our children for sake of <a href="http://www.vaccines.gov/basics/protection/">herd immunity</a>. Infants, chemotherapy patients, and others with weak immune systems need the safety of herd immunity since their bodies cannot fight illness as easily as ours can.<br /><br />If you are reading this and you still aren't convinced, please, do your own research. Read results from reliable sources and then determine your stance on this issue. In fact, here are a few to get you started:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.autismspeaks.org/science/policy-statements/information-about-vaccines-and-autism">Autism Speaks</a><br />
<a href="http://www.cdc.gov/vaccinesafety/concerns/autism/">Center for Disease Control and Prevention</a><br />
<a href="http://www.autismsciencefoundation.org/autismandvaccines.html">Autism Science Foundation</a></div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-47689396814060428452014-10-02T22:16:00.001-05:002014-10-03T00:20:45.674-05:00It Gets Better<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I used to be that mom. The one in denial. The mom that looked at other moms with contempt and whispered, "Do you see her? Seriously, what is she thinking?" I couldn't see that she was me. I didn't want to believe that her struggles were the same as mine. The truth is, we've all been "there" at one point or another as parents. I say "parents" because moms aren't the only ones who have a hard time. Dads don't often get the credit they deserve for putting up with the amount of crap they do.<br />
<br />
My kids are older now. Old enough to know better. Old enough to not throw tantrums anymore. Old enough to pour their own cereal and tie their own shoes. My kids are not perfect, oh no. Not by any means. But they are no longer the toddlers they once were.<br />
<br />
I saw myself the other day in the checkout line. T-shirt and dirty jeans. Hair in a messy half-up, half-fallen down pony. Exhausted but still smiling. She had one child riding in the cart and the other "helping" her push the cart. The older one was whining, "Pleeeeease, Mommy! Can I have...?" The toddler in the basket was crying, blankie in hand, sippy cup on the floor. And I thought, <i>Hang in there, Momma. It gets better.</i><br />
Then I heard it: the not-so-quiet whisper.<br />
<br />
-"Someone can't <i>control</i> her kids."<br />
-"Mmhmm. Wonder where their daddy is?"<br />
-"I dunno, but those kids need a firm hand, that's for sure."<br />
<br />
Mmm.<br />
<br />
Wow.<br />
<br />
I can't tell you how many times I've heard the same lines over and over. Older generations, younger generations. Everyone does it. Everyone knows the "best" way to care for a child, discipline a child, soothe a child. What we fail to recognize is how different each child can be. What works for yours might not work for mine and vice versa. If you have children, you know how exhausting life can be when you're at wit's end and down to your last package of diapers. Does anyone <i>want</i> to go shopping with a young child in tow? Lord, no. But it becomes a necessary evil in those moments. So, we drag ourselves away from the piles of laundry and hunt down our car keys, then rush to the store, thinking, <i>We'll only be a few minutes. I just need to pick up some x, y, z. </i>And we almost always end up at home afterwards, collapsing onto the couch after carefully setting down the sleeping baby in the car seat, and remember, <i>Crap. We're nearly out of baby wipes. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
So I walked over to the mom in the checkout line, handed her the dropped sippy cup, smiled and said, "What beautiful kids! You're doing a great job. Keep it up." She mouthed a thank-you, and smiled back as if my non-judgment meant the world to her. </div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-51238270493720454722014-10-02T00:01:00.000-05:002014-10-03T00:11:13.951-05:00It's Been Awhile<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's been a few years since my last blog post. So many things have changed, yet so many things have stayed the same. It's been a wild and bumpy ride to where we are, but I'm loving my life and finally feel like writing again. In the past few years, we've moved, changed our views on lots of things, and grown physically and psychologically. I'm working for the first time since we've been married, Hubbs is working <i>less</i>, and our kids are both in school. I'm so much more alive now than I was before. I am happier and more outgoing. I am less worried about things and more "let's see what happens!" So...? Let's see what happens! </div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-91099431756624962952011-06-04T10:27:00.000-05:002011-09-23T12:47:27.634-05:00Ten things I've learned from my kids<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">My kids have taught me a lot about life and how to deal with certain situations. My guess is, even those of you without kids will enjoy these jewels of wisdom!<br />
<br />
1. It's never too early for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.<br />
2. Spill your drink on the table? No problem.. that's what straws are for.<br />
3. Don't sweat the small stuff. Lose a sock in the McDonald's play place? Eh, at least we still have our shoes this time.<br />
4. Adopt a new mantra: "Dirt washes off. Dirt washes off."<br />
5. When life gives you lemons, hit them with a big green bat!<br />
6. Be prepared for anything. (A few items I make sure to have in my purse at all times: pens, paper, band-aids, Hotwheels cars, small toys, gum or candy, hand sanitizer, tissues, coins... My purse is not my own.)<br />
7. Coffee is a <i>must </i>for a tired Mom.<br />
8. Coffee + two year olds, not so great.<br />
9. When someone steals something from you, the best thing to do is scream your head off.<br />
10. If all is quiet, either someone is asleep or someone is making a mess.<br />
<br />
</div>Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-35474136034153215162011-05-15T12:26:00.000-05:002011-09-23T12:48:00.726-05:00The Dirty Truth About Getting Clean<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Bath time is always the same for a two year old.<br />
<br />
It starts with the water (of course).<br />
"That's not enough water!"<br />
"It's too hot!"<br />
"Now it's too cold!"<br />
<br />
Next, the toys are added. As I'm tossing in the last few, I usually hear, "Where are the bubbles? Can I have bubbles?" Of course. Now that I've filled the tub to your specifications, you want bubbles. <i>We're out of bubbles right now, Sweetie. Maybe next time, ok? Here. Have another toy.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
After a few minutes of playtime, there's a splash or two and my jeans are wet. *Sigh.*<br />
<br />
Mumbling something about keeping the water inside, I draw the curtains closed in hopes of minimizing the mess, which halfway works. It keeps the far half of the bathroom dry.<br />
<br />
Then comes the most awful, terrifying, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! part:<br />
<br />
The Washing.<br />
<br />
Hair always comes first. I squeeze a small amount of shampoo onto his head. "NOOOO!!!!!" is the only sound audible for the next two minutes, as I chase him around the tub with my hands, scrubbing here and there whenever I catch him. But that's not the worst part.<br />
<br />
Then we rinse.<br />
<br />
I grab the nearest cup or empty squirt toy and fill it with water. He retaliates with a splash, but I'm quick! I shield with my left and squirt with my right, and - <i>GOTCHA!</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
He screams.<br />
"It's in my eye!<br />
I need a towel!!<br />
Hurry!<br />
I need a towel for my eye!"<br />
<br />
Oh my. Must hurry. The acidic water is going to eat through his eyes and into his brain (!). I know you can sense the worry I'm feeling.<br />
<br />
After three or four rounds of this, it is now time to bathe my child. One might ask, "Why? What's the point? With all of the shampoo and water flying around, certainly the rest of him is clean!" But oh, no, my friend. I will not give in. I am going to win this battle! - Nay, this WAR!<br />
<br />
More screaming ensues. Armed with a washcloth full of kids' body wash, I wrestle with my son until I grab an appendage - sometimes an arm, sometimes a leg - and scrub as quickly as I can, switching to a different appendage or body part faster than Superman can fly. YES! It's over. Of course, there's no real need to rinse due to all of the thrashing about in the tub.<br />
<br />
He practices his "swimming" while I towel myself off.<br />
<br />
I look at myself in the mirror. My bottom half is soaked and my top half looks as though I've just been through a windstorm. How glamorous.<br />
<br />
I just <i>love </i>the feeling of wet jeans. Don't you?</div>Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-67912962068714543542011-03-08T16:12:00.000-06:002014-10-02T22:45:41.207-05:00Blurring the Lines Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As we all know, last month was Black History month. It was also a month filled with learning for my kindergartener. She learned about several presidents, including our current one (and his dog). I am very proud that she's learning so much about our country and the people who have made this land great. But one thing concerns me.<br />
<br />
Before February, my daughter was colorblind. I don't mean in the literal "she can't tell the difference between orange and green" colorblindness. I mean racially colorblind. She knew that people have different skin colors and we've taught her that everyone is unique. But we have never discussed race in our house. And hadn't planned on it. <br />
<br />
One day my five year old came home and said, "Mom, I'm glad I'm white." <br />
<br />
<strong><em>WHAT?!?!</em></strong><br />
<br />
Of course, this facilitated a (calm) discussion in which she proceeded to tell me that they learned about Martin Luther King, Jr and how he was shot "because he was black." She then told me that she looked around at the students in her class and "felt sorry for the black ones." I explained to her in the best way I could about the way things were and the way things are now. I also explained to her that it's ok to be proud of who you are, but that she needs to also realize that we are all equal, no matter if we are brown, black, blue, or green. She seemed to understand.<br />
<br />
We've had a couple of conversations since, and each time I have reminded her about equality and loving others.<br />
<br />
I just hope she continues to see everyone as equal. As things are right now, she still plays with all kids of all races, genders and abilities. Please let her continue this way of thinking all of her life, blurring the lines and breaking the social boundaries that have been set up by our predecessors. I would hate for her heart to be changed by the views of people she meets. </div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-49811173323328499032011-02-19T18:03:00.000-06:002011-02-19T18:03:06.967-06:00Ode to a Chin Hair<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Thick. Black. Ominous. <br />
Why do you taunt me <br />
With your regeneration?<br />
Oh evil blade of filth,<br />
You disgust me.<br />
All alone you stand<br />
Proud and tall<br />
But you are an army of one<br />
Against my forceps of steel.<br />
You cannot survive.<br />
Yet, even as I defeat you,<br />
I can hear your dreadful reply:<br />
"I'll be back."</div>Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-88341773851328236072011-02-19T12:08:00.001-06:002014-10-02T22:53:10.350-05:00What's Your Policy? (or: "Bathroom Business")<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was sifting through my blog reading list, and <a href="http://www.nataliessentiments.com/2011/02/closed-doors.html">one particular post</a> inspired me. In it, the blogger states that she and her hubbs have a strictly "closed door" policy when it comes to bathroom business. You know, they don't see each other shaving, pulling up the panty hose, etc., in hopes of keeping the mystery and romance alive. It got me thinking.. <br />
<br />
I grew up in a very open-door, "Hey, who dealt that one?!" kind of household (Except for number 2's. Please keep the door closed for that. Really. No one wants to smell that!). For awhile there, we had five people sharing one small bathroom. We all knew each other's business. So, I never really thought twice about it after marrying my best friend and high school sweetheart. I figured, hey, no big deal. Everybody poops! If I have tummy troubles, he knows about it. He's seen me shave, blow my nose, pluck my brows. If I really have to fart, I fart. Even if he's sitting right next to me on the couch. Hey, what better way to feel close to your partner? <br />
<br />
My hubby, on the other hand, didn't fart around me at all until about 2-3 yrs into our marriage. Not sure why? Now, he does it all the time. Especially since we have a son. They have contests and fart wars. My son will pass gas and tell you it smells like "white berries" (whatever the heck that is?!). Ahh, the world of bodily functions. It took me awhile to get my daughter (almost 6 yrs now) to stay out of the bathroom when I have certain movements. Still no luck with the boy. He doesn't care what you're doing in there, if the door's unlocked, he's coming in!<br />
<br />
So, I say all of that to let you know, the hubbs and I have been married for 5 and a half yrs now, dated for 4 yrs before that. We have an open door policy, and are doing just fine in the romance department. What's your bathroom policy? Do you keep things under wraps? Has your partner seen the "real" you?</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-23981155420203817512010-12-21T20:47:00.000-06:002014-10-02T23:12:30.631-05:00Infected.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm sick. Ugh. No matter how many sanitary precautions I take, all efforts become futile when my sickly toddler snots on my face and says, "Love you, Mommy." How could I possibly turn him away when he lifts up his arms, pokes out his bottom lip, and says, "I hold you, peas?" <br />
<br />
As everyone knows, when Mom gets sick, it's every man for himself. Those dirty dishes from dinner? Yeah, you know where the sink is. Need a new shirt? There's probably one in the dryer, your dresser, or in the closet. Hungry? Hotdogs are in that drawer in the fridge. Not that one. The other one. With the cheese and the lunch meat. Good job.<br />
<br />
I'm not neglectful (is that a word?) of my kids or anything. I love those guys. I get them drinks and I feed them meals and I change diapers. They're big enough to do some things on their own, though. Snacks are on the bottom shelf of the pantry for a reason. <br />
<br />
Of course, eventually throughout the day I get little spurts of feeling better (or at least where my head doesn't feel like it'll explode as easily). During these moments I throw a load of towels in the wash or empty the dishwasher. So my house isn't a total wreck yet. But who knows what tomorrow will hold? <br />
<br />
I'm hoping this "cold" is indeed just a cold and not some mutant virus with plans to take over my family. So far, so good, but I've seen it happen before. One of us gets the sniffles and by the time the last person gets sick, it's pneumonia. Well, ok, maybe not <em>pneumonia</em>, but close. I'm only the second one sick. Hubby has a feeling he'll get the pneumonia. And certainly on Christmas. Why? Because that's the way it happens in our household. <br />
<br />
OK, so I'm rambling on now.. Gonna get off here and spend some time with the hubbs before I lapse into my benadryl coma. Goodnight, folks!</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-26899104836213773122010-12-19T09:09:00.000-06:002014-10-02T23:19:14.204-05:00My Stepmother and Friend<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Four weeks ago today, my father unexpectedly lost his best friend, my stepmother, Debbie. I've hesitated to write about it, not knowing what to say or if I <em>should</em> write about it. But now as I'm typing, I can feel a calm coming over me. Debbie came into our lives about seven years ago laughing and making jokes within minutes of our meeting her. She was such a loving person, full of laughter and life. She has two children whom I am proud to call my siblings: Dena and Trey. She has one grandbaby by blood, and three others that she loved as if they were her own. We became good friends over the past few years and my sisters and I believed we could come to her and confide in her with any situation. Her death was sudden and painless: an aneurysm. We are all grateful that she didn't suffer. <br />
<br />
My dad is holding up relatively well. Some moments are harder than others (waking up without her there, going to sleep without her there, Sunday afternoons). But that is to be expected. He takes comfort, as we all do, in knowing that she is walking with her Savior now. Of course, that doesn't completely take away the pain of her not being here. <br />
<br />
Dena and Trey are grieving in their own ways. My heart goes out to my step-siblings. I cannot imagine losing my mother so suddenly. My step brother was celebrating his birthday with her when she collapsed. Again, I can't imagine... Dena had to travel eight hours before she could see her mother for the last time. What a drive that must have been. I've tried to remind them often that we love them and are here for them, even if we are hundreds of miles away. <br />
<br />
My biggest fear in all of this is that my family is torn apart due to little spats. Everyone is grieving and anger and frustration are a big part of the grieving process. I just pray that any little arguments that arise will be resolved quickly and without hurt feelings. Debbie wouldn't want any animosity to rise up among us.<br />
<br />
I feel so helpless being this far away. Most days it just doesn't seem real to me that she's gone. I <em>know</em> she's not here, but every now and then I'll get a thought (<em>I wonder how Dad and Debbie are celebrating Christmas this year?</em>) and almost immediately am reminded that Dad is alone now. I wish I could be there to help with something. Although, I'm not sure exactly what I could do. I also realize that I have to trust in God to deal with the things I cannot and to comfort those whom I am not able to physically comfort.<br />
<br />
Throughout all of this, I have been reminded that family and friends are most important, after my relationship with my Heavenly Father. It's such a peaceful feeling to know that He is in control and that I don't need to worry. Debbie is and will be greatly missed on this earth, but in the end we will see her again and hear her infectious laughter. I'm thankful for that.</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-24896404146178582212010-11-04T10:15:00.000-05:002014-10-02T23:22:47.444-05:00I Smell Holidays Around the Corner!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Is it November already?? I can't believe it's nearing holiday season again! I love the holidays, everything about them. But this year will be different. We're not so sure yet if we will be able to spend Thanksgiving or Christmas with our family in Memphis. It definitely depends on how things are going for us then and what days Hubby might be able to get off from work. Christmas seems a bit more hopeful than Thanksgiving, though. <br />
<br />
I've started to make other plans for our holiday time. Plans that include our friends here and intimate family dinners. H has already asked if she can start making Thanksgiving decorations to put up in the living room (The ones she made for Halloween are just now slowly coming down). So, since this turkey day could possibly be the <em>first</em> one I/we spend without family, I'm trying to psych myself into this reality by thinking positively. We can start our own traditions. We could have dinner with our good friends and their kids. We could serve at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving Day. We could make our own turkey dinner and tell each other things we are thankful for. There are definitely a few possibilities out there. <br />
<br />
Halloween was fun. We ended up going trick-or-treating around the neighborhood behind hubby's work. H was a "candy corn witch," C was a baseball player, and I was a gangster/mobster chick. I already had the pinstriped pants/vest combo, so when I found the matching fedora I knew it was fate. Or something like that. We were running a bit late on our way out of the house that night, so I brought the camera along to take pics later. Got to hubby's work and whaddya know? The battery was dead. Ugh. I've threatened to dress the kids up again to take pics for family, but Hubbs says that would be mean. Hey, it's not like I would promise them more trick-or-treating time or anything...<br />
<br />
In other news, I've been following a fun blog called <a href="http://www.nataliessentiments.com/2010/11/miraclebody-jeans-giveaway.html">Natalie's Sentiments</a> lately. The blog owner regularly hosts these online giveaways that I always forget to enter (of course). But this time, I actually caught the new post in time to sign up for it. She's giving away a pair of jeans! I love jeans.. Like, really. And seeing that all of my favorite comfy jeans are either falling off or have holes big enough for Alice to fall through, I'd say it's time for a new pair! Of course, I don't expect to win, but it would be a nice holiday surprise!<br />
<br />
Well, my lovelies, I've rambled on enough for today. May your day be lovely and your jeans fit you well!</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-12290433829792752202010-10-29T18:49:00.000-05:002010-11-21T11:50:29.917-06:00Addicted to FacebookRecently, I've noticed some addictive behaviors in my life. No, I don't do drugs. I do... Facebook. So, I've decided to make a list of such behaviors in order that others might recognize the addiction in their own lives before it's too late. <br />
<br />
You know you're spending too much time on facebook when...<br />
<ul><li>You're reading a blog and think "Ha! I like that! Where's the 'like' button?" </li>
<li>You feel the urge to hit the "report spam" button when an ad comes in your (actual) mailbox.</li>
<li>You take a picture and the first thing you think is, "That one's going to be my profile pic!"</li>
<li>You haven't gone out with your friends in weeks, yet you know every detail of their lives.</li>
<li>Someone tells you a joke at work and you respond by shouting "LOL!"</li>
<li>The logo on your milk jug makes you wonder if your "Farmville" crops have come in yet.</li>
<li>You stamp "remove from friends" on the forehead of that annoying chick in the next cubicle.</li>
<li>You go to the bathroom in the middle of your date to post a status update: "Rocking this! I see a second date coming soon."</li>
<li>You start to receive emails offering you a position in support tech.</li>
<li>The only way you talk to your partner is by commenting on his/her wall.</li>
<li>You're considering starting up a second profile for your dog.</li>
<li>You would rather post youtube videos than watch that movie you rented.</li>
<li>Your Warcraft friends have joined facebook to see what all the hype is about.</li>
<li>Your friends recommend going to a local chapter of Facebookers Anonymous.</li>
<li>You just googled Facebookers Anonymous.</li>
<li>You're offended by any of the above.</li>
</ul>If you or anyone you know suffers from a facebook addiction, please seek help immediately.Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-91866126031941207842010-10-07T12:39:00.000-05:002014-10-02T23:24:00.157-05:00The Changing Season<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ahh, fall.. How I love it; the changing leaves, the breezy days, the hustle and bustle... I especially love the memories fall brings. I remember roasting marshmallows in our back yard. I remember jumping into huge piles of leaves, not worrying about the dirt or bugs inside. I remember the excitement of picking out a Halloween costume and going to fall festivals and, of course, trick-or-treating. When I was a kid, the span between Halloween and Christmas seemed to last forever. But now that I have my own kids, I find myself thinking, "Halloween is in a couple of weeks, and Christmas is just two months away!! AAAHHH!!"<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, I love it. The short weeks from now till New Year's are my absolute favorite time of the year. I love the scarves and sweaters. I love the sounds and the smells. One of my favorite smells is burning leaves. It signals change and warmth and fellowship to me. I can't wait to take my kids camping or to build a bonfire and roast marshmallows with them. Last year we had a fireplace so we were able to roast marshmallows over the fire in our apartment. We made s'mores. Need I say more? Fun! But not the same. Strange though it may seem, I also love the busy feel that lies in the months ahead. I enjoy the rush and the excitement of visiting family and friends, trying to find that perfect gift for someone, and asking yourself, "Does this sweater match these boots?" about a hundred times. *Sigh*<br />
<br />
In many ways, the past year has flown by. It was just last fall that I started this blog. In the past year, I have laughed, I have cried, I have learned, and I have grown (and so have my children, albeit differently). We have experienced many changes and many blessings, as well as uncertainty at times. The days seemed to stretch on and on during the hard times. But these hard times are what have made us stronger, as we trust in the Lord who lead us here. As with the new season, change is on the horizon for us. The new steps my husband is taking in his job are leading us onward and upward, and we can't wait to see what God has planned for us next. I love the Changing Season. I can't wait to dive headfirst into the excitement that lies ahead. Change is a good thing!</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-47269327744140867582010-10-01T11:53:00.001-05:002014-10-02T23:28:39.149-05:00Inspiration (or: "Music of My Own")<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When inspiration hits, you can truly be anywhere - in the shower, in the kitchen, seconds before you fall asleep. Inspiration hit me in the face today while sitting on my couch drinking my morning cup of coffee. Thankful to have my pen and notebook handy, I began to write... and write... and scratch that out.. and write some more. It just seemed to pour out of me: a praise song. Usually when I write, poems pour out. But recently songs have been coming to me, seemingly out of nowhere. This is where I wish I had stuck with those video taped keyboard lessons as a kid, because it's not just the lyrics that come to me, but the music as well. Of course, without recording myself singing it I will forget the tune within a few hours. Which sucks. But I guess I can always come up with a (better?) tune later as long as I have the lyrics written down. <br />
<br />
From the day H was born I've been making up songs. Songs about cleaning up. Songs about washing our hands. Songs about going to bed. They're just silly little songs that usually follow a familiar tune (Twinkle Twinkle, London Bridge, Mary Had a Little Lamb), and my kids love them. But up till now I've never written any songs down, nor have I written a song more serious than going pee pee in the potty. It's definitely piquing my interest a bit, and I can't wait for more inspiration to flow. I'm not secretly wishing to become a songwriter for famous singers or anything (cause who would want that??), just enjoying the music. <br />
<br />
I've always been a musical person. My grandmother used to pick me up from "school" (daycare?) when I was little, and we would sing all the way back to her house. I was in children's choir by 2nd grade. I was in the competitive chorus group in high school. Every year at Christmas, my (other) grandmother "asks" (it's really not optional) me and/or my sister to sing in front of the family. Yet, somehow the thought of singing my own songs to other people scares the crap outta me. Here's the hitch, though: I <em>genuinely want</em> to get over this fear. It's a bit ridiculous, don't you think? Ok, so I may not be the next American Idol or anything, but I have a decent voice. Why should I be nervous? Maybe one day I'll get over my shyness and share my songs with the world. Until then, (ba-da-da-da-da!) <em>I'm lovin' it!</em></div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-8280565077278537942010-09-28T10:46:00.002-05:002010-09-28T10:55:06.930-05:00The Great Ant War (part 2)We've been ambushed. I woke up this morning to an army of ants on the kitchen counter, pilfering (of all things) my toaster. Apparently little toasted crumbles of goodness are what ant armies crave at 0630 in the morning. NOT my favorite way to start the day. My first thought was "What can I use to get rid of these things quickly, and without poisoning my family?" So out came the Lysol - Or rather, our generic brand Lysol equivalent (Who can afford to spend 5 bucks on name brand cleaner every month?!). I felt like I was in one of those gun-slinging western movies, armed with my spray bottle and ready to fight back. I didn't even give them the count of three before I blasted every one of them away. Of course, as I sprayed, more of their friends came out of the woodwork to fend me off. They were no match for the fat drops of antibacterial spray and the power of citrus. I laughed my evil laugh and holstered my weapon after half an hour (yes, half an hour!) of shooting. As the smoke cleared, my skin began to crawl as my imagination told me "That one on the far left is moving! I swear it is!" Of course it wasn't.. but I sprayed it again anyway. <br />
<br />
I hate ants (Have I mentioned this before?). I am convinced they are remnants of one of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plagues_of_Egypt">the plagues</a>. A plague of ants would have definitely changed my mind about letting God's people go. I would have been like, "OK! Take them! Would you like some gold, too? Some food? Water? Anything else?" I'm sure ants have a wonderful role in nature and all that, but when they enter my house it's a different story. And mostly I despise them because they are so hard to get rid of. Sure, it's easy when they're outside. Use some heavy duty spray or pest dust and... Voila! No ants for 3-6 months. But when it comes to the indoors, you just don't want to use that kind of stuff in certain places. <em>Especially</em> the kitchen. Can you imagine? "Sorry you're so sick, Timmy. Mom had to kill the ants on the counter again. Oh, you made your sandwich on the counter? Well.. Now we know better, don't we?"<br />
<br />
As I've stated before, and as experience has taught me, ants typically disappear (both inside and out) when the cold weather arrives. So bring on the cold weather! We're ready. We can handle it. Besides, that gives me a great excuse to get out my cute sweaters and wear my booties!Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-64074337779670107182010-09-23T13:25:00.000-05:002010-09-23T13:25:07.778-05:00Random RamblingsEvery now and then (OK, more often than not), I get these random thoughts or ideas. So, I write this stuff down (if I remember to) and look it up later. Right now, for instance, I'm googling "biggest McDonald's play place" in another tab. Having small kids, I thought it might be a cool thing to check out. FYI, it's just south of Orlando, FL. It has an elevator leading up to a kids' treehouse themed area, the usual tubes and slides, a toddler area, and - get this - an arcade. Whoa! <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.mcfun.com/img/restaurants/Small-Sand-Lake-With-Backgr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" px="true" src="http://www.mcfun.com/img/restaurants/Small-Sand-Lake-With-Backgr.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(I did not take this picture, and claim no rights to it, whatsoever.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
In a separate tab, I'm googling pics of something altogether different.. "icebox early 1900s." I know, random, right? I was thinking yesterday(ish?) that I don't think I've ever seen a real one. I mean, I've seen plenty of refrigerators, come on! But an icebox? Like my great-grandmother used? Nope. Can't say that I have. Apparently there are lots of different sizes of these, and they were made from different types of materials. Like any type of furniture, you could buy the icebox of your liking, or simply whichever type you could afford. For those of you (if any) who may not know what I'm talking about, an icebox is not just a type of <a href="http://www.food.com/recipe/miss-daisys-lemon-icebox-pie-113137">pie</a>. It is (was) the prelude to our present-day refrigerator. Our grandmothers and great-grandmothers would buy a block of ice and store it in one compartment of the icebox. Then perishable items such as milk and meat would be kept in a separate compartment, to be kept cold. Of course, the problem with this is that once the ice would melt, Granny had to replace it and clean out the water or empty the tray that caught the water. And I can imagine the icebox didn't keep things too cold for too long. Thank goodness for current technology!<br />
<br />
The fourth tab I have open right now is a search for a <a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.onefrugalfoodie.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/applesaute2.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.onefrugalfoodie.com/2009/04/22/sinful-cinnamon-apple-saute-breakfast-or-dessert/&usg=__rW0Ezj9V3-iqXzU3D6JJ_oCRfF8=&h=357&w=430&sz=29&hl=en&start=3&sig2=50DVwrNfuq8-whld2Be46A&zoom=1&itbs=1&tbnid=SOeWpylcTqS4uM:&tbnh=105&tbnw=126&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dcinnamon%2Bapples%26hl%3Den%26gbv%3D2%26tbs%3Disch:1&ei=x5mbTO_rA4G88gbN_6XuDw">cinnamon apples</a> recipe. Yum. Fall is the perfect time for these. Hubbs and I love cinnamon apples, and, having discovered some decently priced manzanas here, I thought I might try to make some. Maybe. If I'm feeling creative enough.<br />
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.onefrugalfoodie.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/applesaute2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" px="true" src="http://www.onefrugalfoodie.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/applesaute2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Again, this photo is not mine. I claim absolutely no rights to it, yadda yadda.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
I'm not sure why I'm telling the world these things, but it does make me happy to think that perhaps someone else out there was wondering "Hey, am I the only one who has intruding random thoughts?" No, Dear Someone. You are not alone.Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-7650964933294791602010-09-22T12:21:00.000-05:002010-09-22T12:21:48.714-05:00The Great Ant WarAnts ants everywhere, and not a place to sit!<br />
<br />
Or, something like that! All summer long we have battled ants outside our home, and over the past few weeks they have been trying to break in. Luckily, my fabulous hubby bought some spray that we can use both inside and out, which seems to be keeping them at bay (Hooray!). Well, a week or so went by with no sign of ants in the house... until a few days ago. <br />
<br />
Needing to wash my hands, I turned the knob on the bathroom sink and lo and behold, ants came pouring out of the faucet! They weren't with the flow of water, but rather hidden in the millimeter space around the spout. Now, sometime before this I had watched a few minutes of a documentary about a man who worked with and studied ants. He found that they leave a scent trail behind them so that other ants will be able to follow them and find food or whatnot. So, armed with this new information, I smashed each ant I saw (which is very gratifying when you have had ant problems such as we have) and promptly scrubbed the surface of the sink, countertop, faucet, etc, in hopes that any remaining ants would not be tempted to come out. Then, following my husband's instructions, removed the towels from the cabinet under the sink and sprayed liberally inside. Again, this was done as a deterrant. <br />
<br />
I am quite proud to say that I think we may have won this battle, as I have yet to see more than one or two ants since. However, the war won't completely be over until the cold weather sets in. Only then will we truly have our house back. To those of you who are currently fighting the good fight, stand tall! We will divide and conquer!Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-48191624971578503462010-07-31T16:09:00.000-05:002010-11-21T11:51:32.316-06:00Forgetfulness Do you ever wake up and think to yourself, "OK, today I need to do X, Y, and Z..." only to find when the day is over that you completely forgot about one or all of those things? Welcome to my life. It doesn't happen to me every day, but I do forget things often. So often do I forget, that I learned a few years ago to start writing things down. I have gone through countless notebooks, notepads and sticky notes reminding myself to do the simplest things: "Do laundry. Take out the trash. Call Mom. Blog." <br />
<br />
Not only do I forget things I need to accomplish, but I often forget words I am wanting to say - mid sentence. Especially if I'm tired or upset. I'll find myself asking my daughter to pick up her - and I forget the name for the toy. She reminds me, "Barbie, Mom." <em>Yes. That's it. Thank you. </em>It's quite embarrassing to have your five year old complete your sentence for you in the grocery store when you say, "Can you hand me one of those cans of..." and she says, "corn?" as you point to the object and draw a blank. But, alas! This is me. It's very frustrating. <br />
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I wish I knew why I forget things so much and why, in contrast, my thoughts always seem to come so easily when I'm typing or writing them down. It makes me worry, of course, that by the time I'm a grandmother I will have early stages of Alzheimer's or another form of dementia. There's a history of dementia in my family. Is it inherited? Not sure. Some believe it's hereditary, while others rely on the all-too-familiar "it hasn't yet been proven." I have seen how people treat Alzheimer patients, and I don't want to be treated that way - like an outcast, or less than a person. It's definitely a frightening thought, and perhaps I'm reaching a bit. But I do fear these things. It sucks to forget. I want to remember and be remembered.Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-91929043094092235982010-05-15T14:51:00.000-05:002014-10-02T22:48:32.849-05:00The Play-doh Saga<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm a mommy. I play peek-a-boo games with my son and dress-up with my daughter. It's hard to do these things on days when Mommy is sick or not feeling well. Today has been one of those days. Every now and then, for some unknown reason, I have a spell of vertigo. I get dizzy and nauseated at even the slightest movement. Today it started at 10am and finally stopped after I decided to take a nap with the kids. When I woke up at 2pm I wasn't dizzy or nauseated anymore (thankfully), but had instead (and still have) a headache and heart palpitations. Nice. Insert my daughter, H.<br />
<br />
H has been asking me all day if she can play with play-doh. Play-doh for me is one of the worst kids toy inventions ever. I have a plastic drop cloth that the kids are supposed to sit on while they play with it. They sit and play on the drop cloth for about five minutes, and then slowly the play-doh makes its way across the carpet (which is/was shag carpeting in our new place). The play-doh then gets stepped on and sat on and squashed into the carpet and all over socks, pants, and - yes - hair. Today of all days I do not feel like cleaning up this stuff.<br />
<br />
So I tried to break it to her gently the first time she asked me today. "Mommy isn't feeling well, Sweetie. Maybe we can play with the play-doh tomorrow." Not good enough. About an hour later, I got the same question, followed by a promise to help clean up the mess. A valiant offer, indeed. But unfortunately, her clean-up efforts always fall a bit short, leaving Mom to pick through the carpet. <br />
<br />
Nap time came and left, and I had briefly forgotten about the play-doh. H hadn't. Once again, she pleaded with me. "Mom, can I <em>please</em> play with play-doh <em>now</em>? I'll be good, and I'll vacuum after. I love to vacuum!" <br />
<br />
<em>Sigh.</em><br />
<br />
I felt sorry for her, really. But I was not about to give in on this one. "Not today. I still don't feel well, Bug. I'm sorry. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel better and we can play with it then." Apparently three no's to a five year old means "Ask me again later. I might say yes." So she waited a few minutes and angrily bombarded me with questions of "Why" and "Why not?". Instead of answering her questions, I asked her a question of my own. "Don't you care that Mommy doesn't feel well?" And she answered completely opposite from what I expected to hear. "Well, no. I don't." WHAT?! How is it possible that my sweet little angel doesn't care about my well-being? She doesn't <em>care</em>?<br />
<br />
<br />
After a little talk about feelings ("Well, how would you feel if So-and-so was sick?"), I realized that my daughter <em>can</em> empathize with others, she was just upset with <em>me</em>. And after her outlash of anger on me, I decided she wouldn't be playing with play-doh for a week. She cried for about two minutes, then began playing with her zhu-zhu pets. <br />
<br />
Ah, kids.</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-2552137598763226772010-05-11T14:25:00.002-05:002014-10-02T23:35:52.853-05:00What happens next?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm sitting here with my almost-two-year-old, who just woke up from his nap. He almost always wakes up before his sister, which allows us to enjoy a few minutes of mom and son time in the afternoons. Today, he asked for some "choo-choos" (fruit chews), and as he shoved the first one in his mouth he said "I wan Me-Mouse, Mom." Firstly, I'd like to note how big he sounds to me when he calls me "Mom" instead of "Mama" or "Mommy." I rarely get called those last two any more - unless someone's hurt or there's something wrong. Secondly, for those who may not know, "Me-Mouse" is "Mickey Mouse" in toddler speak. C has been talking a lot about his Mickey Mouse movie over the past few days. So, I put in the dvd and he asks, "What's that, Mom?" I show him the case. "Me-Mouse?! I rike that, Mom!" (as if he didn't just ask me to put it in.) As soon as the menu screen shows up with Mickey and his pals, I hear him say "Yay! Me-Mouse!" (again, as if he expected something else?) and he is instantly sucked into tv land. Apparently the sound of Mickey and his friends has lured H out of her room now, because I hear her behind me, trying to "surprise" me. Of course, I already heard her not only open the bedroom door but tiptoe down the creaky hallway. I turn around. "Boo! Ha.. I scared you, didn't I?" she says. I nod. "YES, you got me." <br />
<br />
I love spending this time with my kids. They say and do things that both astonish and amuse me every day. But I've been thinking lately about my future in terms of my career. What do I want to do? What do <em>I</em> want to do when the kids start school? When they get older? When they go off to college? So far, I'm not 100% sure of that answer. I used to have (and a large part of me still does have) the drive to be a nurse, and nothing but a nurse. Not just <em>a</em> nurse, but an <em>OR </em>(operating room) nurse. I've spent a pretty fair chunk of my and my parents' money (sorry, Mom and Dad!) and numerous semesters and course hours toward this goal. It's something I could definitely see myself doing later in life. But right now, I don't think I'm disciplined enough to be a nurse. I don't think I'm quite ready for the long hours and the physical and emotional stress involved. I do long to help people, and I want to do something in the medical field. But what? I've thought about getting certified to be a CNA (nurse's aid) after the kids go to school. It would allow me to work in a hospital setting while getting one-on-one interaction with patients, minus the long hours and with less stress. I've also thought about just staying at home for a while longer so my kids don't have to come home to an empty house or a babysitter. That is, of course, if my husband's patience lasts and if our financial situation remains stable on on one income. I'm not entirely sure what I want to do just yet. But I'm sure as time goes on and as our lives change and grow, what I'm supposed to do will become more clear to me. Until then I'm just praying and breathing and reminding myself to enjoy these sweet moments with my kids. After all, one day soon they won't be so little anymore.</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-52303176781004007502010-04-02T18:31:00.000-05:002014-10-02T23:37:03.295-05:00Sea Monkeys: Part Deux<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ok.. <em>Maybe</em> I overreacted a bit about the whole sea monkey thing. After we put the eggs in the "tank" we placed them on the window sill and went outside to play. About an hour later the cat knocked the tank <em>off</em> the window sill. H was devastated. So, daddy bought her a new kit and we started over. The eggs hatched successfully yesterday (yay!) and our little guys are swimming safely in their tank on the kitchen counter. I know I said I would post pics of these things, and honestly, I tried to get a good one! I discovered a <a href="http://www.2giftshop.com/popup_image.php?pID=5132&invis=0&osCsid=2bc6b63e152a42b65da444d4a1083f98">Fujifilm A360</a> is probably not the best camera to try this with! LOL. Find a ballpoint pen. Find one? Ok, see the very tip there? No, the end you write with. Yep. Right now the "baby fishies," as C calls them, are about that size. With tails. Oh, yeah, and they're white. So I'm sure you can understand my dilemma! Maybe this sea monkey thing won't be so bad after all! Well, I'm off to settle another kiddy dispute! Au revoir!</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3823741160720680102.post-56511347940209009912010-03-24T12:28:00.001-05:002014-10-02T23:39:42.862-05:00Spring Goals<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dear Spring,<br />
Welcome! I hope you treat us well. Please do not allow your fresh pollen to attack our sinuses this year. Do note, however, that if you decide to attack us we will be prepared, for we are armed with Claritin and Sudafed and plenty of tissues. We do invite you to bring plenty of warm, happy, sunshine-filled days to play in. We eagerly await the buzzing of bees and blossoming of flowers. And when the occasional rains fall, we will be grateful to the Rainmaker, for from that rain comes life. Also, Lady Spring, please do remember that it is now your time to shine. Do not let Old Man Winter bully you into bringing more snow! He has had his turn. <br />
<br />
Respectfully Yours,<br />
Crystal & Family<br />
<br />
That was fun! :) I do hope to reach these goals this spring:<br />
<br />
*to find a church<br />
*to make some spring/Easter crafts with my kids<br />
*to plant and grow some kind of veggie<br />
*to do something for myself<br />
*to have a date night (or day) with my hubby<br />
<br />
I met most of my goals for winter:<br />
<strong>*<strike>If we get enough snow, make a snowman with my kids</strike></strong><br />
H and I made three snowmen this year, and for the first time ever, Hubbs was able to make one with her! Very exciting! C just ate the snow.<br />
<strong>*<strike>Take more pictures</strike></strong><br />
I felt like I took a fair amount of pictures. :) Will most likely continue this goal.<br />
<strong>*<strike>Have a date night with my husband</strike></strong><br />
We had a fun night out together! I just wish I could have relaxed and enjoyed it more.<br />
<br />
Now for the goals I didn't quite reach:<br />
<strong>*Give to someone else on my birthday</strong><br />
I attempted (during moving time chaos) to assemble a blanket drive shortly before my birthday, and it didn't quite come together. So when the Haiti earthquake hit, I decided to send info about another drive to the few who were interested. Moving is not an excuse, and I guess I got discouraged when so few responded to my initial attempts. I foresee another attempt in my near future.<br />
<strong>*Get a tattoo for my birthday</strong><br />
Again, with moving expenses, etc, I was unable to reach this goal. I have an idea of what I want, and now we have only to save up the money for it and to find a reputable place around here. Or, we might just wait for a return trip home, so that we might go with what (who) we know.<br />
<br />
So, that's how I fared for winter 2010. How did your goals go? Did you meet them all? Some? Forget about them altogether? Well, if you fall into the latter group, the good news is that spring is here! - a time for new growth and a fresh start. So what are you waiting for? Make a goal list. I promise it'll make you feel great to cross them off as you meet them!</div>
Crystalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09793896530574977133noreply@blogger.com3