December Photo Project: Day 25

Yeah, I'm slow again. But I'm crabby. That's my excuse. Work was good today. Few clients came to call so I was actually able to get some things done that have been lying around neglected. The pic is me wearing my new robe from TCO which is nice and fluffy.


December Photo Project: Day 24

Mira and Torrin in front of our "Christmas Tree." I didn't put up the "real but artificial" tree this year. Mira isn't the problem...the cats are. They knocked it fully down three times last year, and I ended up putting it away before Christmas even happened. Maybe next year we'll give it a try again.

December Photo Project: Day 23

Yeah, yeah, I'm running a bit behind. Things get crazy during the holidays...and today is also a certain Special Someone's 21st birthday. :) This is Mira reading with her great grandma.


December Photo Project: Day 22

One view of the Crazy Christmas House at 42nd & Cleveland Avenue


December Photo Project: Day 21

I didn't feel overdressed wearing a leather jacket and light knit gloves. Is 40 degrees fahrenheit (4 degrees celsius) really that warm?


December Photo Project: Day 20

Someone's going to be disappointed on Christmas morning.


December Photo Project: Day 18

So far...$275 for gas station gift cards...$260 at JC Penney for teens' clothing...$130 at Bath and Body Works for gift cards...and $3095 at WalMart for everything from socks and underwear to Fairytopia Barbies and Little Tonkas to microwaves and coffee pots. And don't forget diapers and Christmas trees. The receipt above was for the second run through WalMart. You can only fit so much into a cart at a time, you know.


December Photo Project: Day 17

View of the State Capitol with Sunset Sky this evening from Elliott Elementary as I picked up Torrin from his after school program.


Full blast

Fair warning: This is a vent, cranked up as high as the heat will escape...

Dangerous Driver

It figures that I post about being a 'dangerous driver,' and then the next day I get a ticket. In all fairness, I would like to report that any images captured while driving are always at a stoplight. You know, when the car's not moving. But anyway. Last night TCO and I went to the movie theatre to see a movie that we didn't get to watch because it was sold out. So, Mr. Movie Buff TCO was all aggravated by that, then there we are, minding our business, driving home. In the snow. And ice. The ice that's been coating the ground since Monday/Tuesday, and melting, freezing, and re-freezing ever since. And the snow, some of which had been there before the ice encased it Tuesday early in the morning. It started snowing around 8pm. Big, fluffy, flakes, the kind that make very pretty glittery snow and further disguise the ice. We went to a movie that started at 9:45, so it was pretty late by the time we got out. Snow blowing everywhere. Driving slowly, both for purposes of limited visibility and possible slick spots lurking beneath the surface, I approached an intersection cautiously. I noticed two police cruisers, and stopped until it was safe to cross the road. We get to the other side, and one of the police cars whips around in a parking lot and starts following me. Ummmm. Okay. Keep driving. Three blocks (and stop signs) later, he turns on his lights and aims his spotlight at me.

I got a ticket for failing to obey a traffic device. Apparently at that first intersection I mentioned, there was a sign that said "right turn only." Okay, fine.

I have two bones to pick with this. One, visibility was very poor. It's not like I totally ignored convention. I came to a complete, slow, stop, drove carefully, etc. Two, IF I had seen the sign, I assure you that I wouldn't have disobeyed it in front of TWO police cruisers. Come on. Isn't this a prime opportunity for a warning?

No, I still don't have a lawyer, but I need one.
Basically, all I've determined is that I am legally the custodial parent, but since no formal visitation has been set, I'd have to go to court to get Mira back if Voldemort decided to be a [insert foul swear word here]. I need a lawyer to get anything done. I'm also poor as hell. I may have a professional-sounding job title, and the work I do could be construed as higher-level, but the truth is that I make poverty wages and have zero benefits. I am loathe to trust the over-worked, under-funded prowess of legal aid but I have little choice at this point.
Voldemort actually revealed this evening that he has looked into trying to get full custody of Mira. You know, since I'm a sex-craving, STD-spreading, child-abusing prostitute.

He and his brother (who, coincidentally, is friendly as pie towards me) borrowed Mira this afternoon. When Voldemort brought her home, he noted that my house smelled like pot (marijuana). Then he asked me, "so was your boyfriend smoking pot?" and promptly left.
Uh, no, dipshit. You're the pot smoker. Actually it's been quite lovely having a boyfriend who doesn't smoke. I don't know if he still smokes it, but I know that he was at least through the summer of 2007, and had off and on throughout the five years which I've now known him for. It's been an an ongoing battle between he and his psycho-depressive self, and it's been a means of self-medication. When we went to Chicago in June/July to meet up with a bunch of my Internet Mom Friends? (that's the true IMF, I tell you, far more valuable than the International Monetary Fund). Yeah, one of the times when he left the house he went to find a frisbee golf course and he got high with some guys he met there.

So, in true adolescent form I send him a text a few minutes later which said, "You'd know the smell of pot better than me anyway!" Yeah, I shouldn't have sent it. It just pisses me off how he will totally ignore me when I try to talk to him (about MIRA, mind you, when he's picking her up or dropping her off). Then, when he does talk, it's to wedge in a sneaky jab. As soon as he left (which coincided with his pot comment), Torrin asked, "How come he always asks dumb questions, mom?" Good question, Torrin, good question, but not one I can answer quickly or concisely, beyond "because he's a sad, sad man." Or "mentally-ill," take your pick.

He responds by completely ignoring the marijuana conversation (probably a moot point anyway) and asking, "New TV?" See, there's a cardboard box on the porch by my recycling bins. An empty cardboard box that once housed a nice decent-sized flat LCD TV. It's not mine and it's not in my house. But Voldemort needed to obsess about WHOSE television it is...um...who cares?

Why, oh why, was it Torrin's dad who moved away, and not Mira's?

December Photo Project: Day 15

December Photo Project: Day 14

Yeah, yeah. I'm a dork, and a dangerous dork at that. I like to take pictures while I'm driving, apparently. This is the ornament that hangs from my rear view mirror. It's a medicine wheel beaded thing I made a couple of years ago. It's colorful, which makes me happy. Another thing that makes me happy is lights reflecting off of the surfaces of wet streets. That's been a secret source of joy for me for the past several years. It's the one thing I enjoy about rain and ice on the road.


December Photo Project: Day 13

Today: A Series in Geese. Taken this morning as I was on my way to Wal-Mart to replace a stolen Operation Santa Claus gift.


December Photo Project: Day 12

Yesterday, I didn't even get dressed.
With public schools cancelled, work starting late, Mira's daycare closing early and a sheet of ice covering everything it just
didn't make sense to go through the production of getting everyone presentable. I didn't even go out and get the mail. I did salt the sidewalks and take the recycling to the curb prior to 7am, however. I also cooked breakfast for lunch (scrambled eggs and sausage) and made my first ever pot of chili. An onion, a green pepper, tomatoes, kidney beans, chili seasoning, cumin, red pepper, and oh yeah, hamburger. I don't know that I've ever cooked two kinds of red meat in one day. That's highly atypical in this household.

Anyway, all of that hiding-insideithe-house business meant that the Thawing of the Ice Cube that was once My Car was left for this morning. Bright and early. An entire hour from start to finish. I mentioned I missed my garage? Yeah, you could say it's more like mourning sometimes.

But it was a good day. No, a great day. I was voted onto a board. I am now a member of the Board of Directors of the Volunteer Partners. Several families showed up to receive their free Operation Santa Claus gifts. And I got a call from one of our funders. They're giving me (I mean, my program) 7 or 8 grand, in addition to what they've already given. My task? Pick ten needy families and give them a wonderful Christmas.

That's an order I'm glad to take.


December Photo Project: Day 11

I must say that I am continually disappointed by the winter weather photographing opportunities immediately available around my house. Our yard is pretty small in back (and nothing's in it, it's unfenced) and in front it's essentially non-existent. Then the added problem of it being too dark to focus well this morning but flash, as always, washing out detail. The second, somewhat eery facelike image is Torrin's bike covered in snowy ice with some shadows projected by the porch railing.

But, the "good" news is that's there's no school today. That's "good" as opposed to actually good because it means I can't go to work. It wouldn't be so bad to have Torrin tag along with me to work, but it appears that the drive to Mira's daycare and my place of employment would be.

And Happy Birthday to our Auntie Joyce.


December Photo Project: Day 10

Fully underway at the Indian Center! The National Guard delivered presents this morning, so now it's up to me to disseminate them to their proper owners. A few families' gifts did not arrive. A few other families have been or will be adopted by more financially sound ones. And I get to orchestrate the whole thing...



December Photo Project: Day 8

Kitty Sumiko's got it goin' on. He's in the know. Heck, if I could crawl in the dryer and snuggle in warm clothes, I would.

Sumiko is my lesser-liked cat. Actually, The Chosen One hates him. TCO doesn't care for cats, and Sumiko is somewhat passive agressive and a bit socially avoidant. Nothing extreme. He is still a good kitty, very tolerant, and causes little trouble. He is also the prettier of my kitties, with his snowy white fur with beige splotches and icy blue eyes. He's got a bit of that Siamese-almost-cross-eyed-ness going on. He's just the one that you're more likely to trip over when you're in my house.


December Photo Project: Day 7

These pictures were all taken at work this morning. Animal tracks in the snow and the powwow grounds, snow-covered, o'course.


December Photo Project: Day 6, Beware of Naked Baby Bum

Okay, so the picture on the left is the official DPP pic of the day. You'd think with all of the snow that blew around today I'd be able to find something more interesting to photograph than the pine cone wreath on my porch. Well, sorry to disappoint but it is what it is.

Heh. The next picture is here 'cuz I think it's funny. As has been mentioned previously, Mira looooooves Hey-dee Paw-der. Not quite as much as Monsters Inc., but pretty close nonetheless. And c'mon, who doesn't love a bit o' baby bum?

I also love how long her hair is getting. It's not as long in front as the back...I did trim her bangs twice when she was a wee one and I was still afraid of styling her hair. That 'n, you know, gravity, shape of the human head, etc. :D


December Photo Project: Day 5

These are my pretties in my living room. My mother said that they were pussy willows, but really, I don't know. They were a Christmas gift from my favorite auntie two or three years ago, a specific request from Avant Card, which just happens to be my favorite store.

Oh, and we have pneumonia. Me and Mira, anyway. Torrin appears to be fine as of yet. Go figure.


December Photo Project: Day 4

Having to scrape frost and/or ice off of my windshield every morning. For people like me who are always running late, this is a highly unwelcome addition to the agenda. I had a garage once, when Torrin was a baby. Winter is when I miss it the most.

This picture was taken from the inside of the car looking out the front windshield. Sunshine hitting the left side made a nice glare and melted the frost enough to see the tree outside (but not enough to melt beyond the need of the loathsome ice scraper).


December Photo Project: Day 3

That's the sound of me deflating. A sad, limp, empty balloon.

Yeah. So. Anyway. The Boy Who Lived showed up just a bit ago. Started making some food, and I was doing something in the kitchen. Shuffling stuff around but not really getting much cleaning done, the usual.

"So," he says, in a get-down-to-business tone. Then proceeded to ask me if I really wanted to go to Las Vegas with him later this month (it's his birthday). Well, duh, of course I want to. I've never been to Vegas, and I've never really traveled anywhere with non-family sorts before, except for a couple quick jaunts to Kansas City. I'd love to go to Vegas, especially with him, especially to celebrate his birthday...but he pressed on. Wanted to know if I could guarantee that Voldemort wouldn't cause any problems while we were gone.

That's when my heart sank through the heels of my feet and landed somewhere in my downstairs pot-smoking wannabe-rapper neighbor's apartment.

The Chosen One says he's been looking forward to this for so long, doesn't want to worry about Tom Riddle screwing things up. Point taken. I can understand that. But I can't control Voldemort. He may as well have just asked me to stay home.


December Photo Project: Day 2

I'll offer full disclosure at this point that I hate Christmas. It seems only fair to admit this as the DPP swings into gear. My Christmas Hatred has nothing to do with Christ or Christianity; my complaints are entirely separate of those concepts. I hate Santa, I hate the greed, I hate advertising directed at toddlers. Every year I tell Torrin that Santa isn't real. We don't watch television in our house due to my high dislike for marketing to children (that and the underlying oversexualization of everything). It makes me angry when people come in to my office complaining that they can't pay their utility bills, so they'll have to return the $500 worth of video games/video game system that they bought for their child...WTH? Priorities, people?

Anyway, today's picture illustrates what is easily my favorite part of being a mother to two children...seeing them laugh and play together. The kiddos featured above are having a blast playing in my bed, four-and-a-half years' age difference, opposite-gendered, and all. In spite of my ill will towards the Santa Season, I think that these little things are among those contributing to what should be the larger theme of the holidays--family.

Santa brings out the best in children...

Or something like that, LOL! We went to Wal-Mart yesterday (O, let me count the ways I hate thee, bless'ed Wal*Mart..) and the goofy 20-Something-Santa-With-Fake-Beard was sitting there in the girls' clothing for free pictures. Mira's never sat with Santa and it's been a couple years since Torrin did, so I thought "what the heck," and plunked them down for the sans-charge photo op.

This action set Mira off like a car alarm, wailing. "Please, smile for Mama," I pleaded with her, to no avail. Santa called out, "Just snap the picture!" We got the printout, and Mira wanted to see it. "LOOK!" she cried, excitedly, "Mira no smile mama!"

Yeah, I know. I know you didn't smile for Mama, Mira. Thanks for noticing.


December Photo Project: Day 1

This winter tradition comes via The Prairie Box and is a nice way to spice up the December Doldrums (and give new meaning and purpose to writer's-block-ridden-blogs). And so, here I present my first contribution to the project. The picture at right was taken just a half an hour ago at our front steps. My happy lil' lavender flowers made it spunkily through Thanksgiving, standing proudly upright, but their run this year is now officially complete. I look forward to their return next spring; I am especially fond of these little fellas because they were my first successful planting project. We had irises and baby's breath in front of our home when I was a kid but my mother is not a gardener (or a cook, or seamstress, knitter, crafter, etc) and I didn't really learn about growing green things, neither in-home nor in-yard.


Happy to be home...or am I?

We got back into town around 10:30pm last night. While I am relieved to be home, in my own house, with our own things, our own food, both of my babies, etc., I am not entirely thrilled to be here.
It's all part of the larger frustration mill, churning away. Of course, there's Voldemort. But then, there's other things, too. Like the unpaid internet and natural gas bills. Oh, if only I were a prostitute like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named thinks, I'd have no outstanding debts! (Whatthebleepever). Then there's work. I get paid crap to do crap. On one hand, I really like that at the end of a day I can sit down (yeah right) and think, wow, I helped this-n-that-person, however-many-people today and be able to attach something tangible to that. Two families are getting free packs of diapers, about twenty will get free christmas gifts for their children, two people received vouchers for gasoline. And that's just today, in a few short hours. Then there's also the sadness...the people we couldn't help, or the people we did help but shouldn't. The ungrateful folk. The people who get mad because there's a $17 limit on the free christmas gifts, or the ones who call to say, "don't help so-and-so with their gas bill." Then I think about how I should be done with graduate school by now, instead of not-even-applied yet. How I'm thousands of dollars in debt with both credit and student loans. But I pay for YMCA membership and recycling services? I spent ten bucks on another pair of shoes for the Buffalo Dinner last weekend, but I haven't paid my phone bill? I complain about how I have no time, then I spend hours on the Internet and preoccupy myself with my way-too-cute boyfriend? Really, I don't have time for a boyfriend. But surely the happiness makes it worth it? Then Voldemort swoops in for an attack, complicating things...or at least causing a nuisance.

Sometimes, I think it would be most diplomatic to bow out, to extricate myself from the situation, pack up, and move away.

Would the problems follow? Surely, they would.


Locals: You can watch me on TV!

I forgot to mention this last week. I was asked to read for a series done by our public libraries, this one, the American Indian Heritage Read-in. After much deliberation I opted a speech-of-sorts given by Alfred Gilpin, tribal chairman of the Omaha Tribe in 1954 (at which time the Omahas' sovereignty status was threatened) per the suggestion of my grandfather. Apparently, I'm also related to that guy, but I don't understand precisely how.

I was, of course, mortified. I hate public speaking.

In elementary school, I was once sent to the Principal's office for refusing to speak when called on by the teacher. In fifth grade, when it was my turn to give a presentation, I attempted to hide under my desk. In eighth grade, upon being asked to do a report in front of the class, I first began nervously laugh, uncontrollably. My teacher was just beginning to look really angry when the laughter subsided into sobs and tears.

Okay, so things aren't that bad anymore, but my favorite part is still when it's all over and I'm safely in my seat.

For those of you who are local, you can see me on channel 5 at 6pm and 10:30pm tomorrow, Friday 23 Nov 2007, and 9pm on Saturday. :) Another reader of note in the program is a co-worker, technically my boss of sorts, who also happens the 'brother' of The Boy Who Lived.

All Grown Up

Yesterday afternoon, my son boarded a plane. All by himself. The flight attendant asked him if he wanted me to go with him to get his seat. "Nope. I'm okay," he replied, cool cucumber that he is. He acted in a similarly independent way on his first day of kindergarten. We pulled up at the school, and I turned off the car, ready to walk him to class, take pictures of him, etc. Before I have a chance to gather my things, he took off, slamming the door shut and calling out, "Bye, Mom!"

The plane he flew on was super tiny. Like, even smaller than the last plane I flew on to or from our hometown (our airport is quite little, with only two gates). Nevertheless, he arrived safely at his destination, a few minutes late (what plane isn't these days?). I blithely assumed that ear buds fit all ears. Well, they don't fit childrens' ears. I thanked the powers that be for finding a mysterious $20 in my pocket earlier that afternoon (a huge blessing, as I am soooo broke right now) so that I could spend it on overpriced headphones at the convenience pod nearest his gate. He spent all of today with his dad and will tomorrow as well. His return flight takes off Saturday morning.

Update: Tom Riddle vs. Harry Potter

I'm somewhat chagrined to report that I have not taken any absolute action in respect to Voldemort's prying and pestering, aside from not answering his calls or texts.
On Tuesday afternoon, Torrin, The Chosen One, and I departed from Lincoln. Mira stayed in Lincoln. She was to be staying primarily with Voldemort's mother, known as Merope Gaunt in the HP series. I made no arrangements with Voldemort personally but it was understood that Merope would coordinate the efforts between she, Voldemort, and Tom Riddle Sr. (Voldemort's dad, who is not dead in this story).

So, we're driving through Iowa. Iowa sucks. But, all seemed to be going pretty well. The drive was progressing favorably and The Boy Who Lived was doing an excellent job at initiating and maintaining conversation (not one of my fortés). My phone rang...Santeria by Sublime, which has become (unfortunately for Sublime) Voldemort's anthem. Since Mira could have conceivably been with him, I felt it was fair to answer the call. "Let me talk to your boyfriend," he demanded. I said no and hung up on his dumb a$s.

We stopped in Dubuque for gas, as has become the custom. Torrin was passed out in the backseat by this time. We were just about to leave, when the phone rang again. Morbid curiousity won out over logic, and I answered, taking off for the service station's restroom and ditching The Chosen One as he opened the door to re-enter my car. God, that was rude of me.

But not nearly as rude as what Voldemort had just done. I said hello, and Mr. Riddle replied cooly, "I just got off of the phone with your boyfriend's mom." Then, he said her name. She has a distinctive name. The blood drained from my head and I sought refuge in the bathroom. "How did you do that?" I wanted to know. Voldemort was not satisfied with this reply. I'm not sure how he expected me to react, but he gauged me incorrectly by supposing that I only wanted to know how he found it out so that I can better "hide" my "tracks next time." He considers it a sort of public service that he called The Chosen One's mom to warn her about me. Says he was on the phone with her for half an hour.

Seriously, WHAT THE FÜ(K.

What kind of crazy son of a fool (no offense Merope and Tom Sr.) calls up his ex-GF's mother to make himself feel better.

I'm not even sure how Tom Riddle got that information. I've been pretty careful to not slip any identifying information to him (duh) or his mom. We're pretty sure it must be internet-related, possibly off of the local University's studentfinder via Facebook (to get his name).
At this point one can probably gather that I am definitely p!s$ed off. Come Monday you can be certain that I will verify that there is a document stating that I have legal physical custody of my daughter. Until then, I try to forget that the whole thing happened so that I can enjoy the weekend. That waste of oxygen is not worth my time spent worrying.

One week later

The transfer is now complete. I've copied and pasted all of the posts which appeared on the previous site to this not-so-new but way-updated blogger account.


Giving up on Yahoo! 360.

From now on find me here (instead of the previous site, http://www.geocitie.com/toiledelanuit/index.html).
I've given up. I didn't want to move to one of the other blogging websites but this one gives me so many errors that it hardly makes to keep updating here. The two posts directly preceding this one will be accompanied by the as-promised-pics when the posts are copied n pasted to Blogspot you'll be able to see them.
Saturday November 17, 2007 - 01:36am (PST)
Hell to the yeah. If only so I can more easily stalk you. YEAH! :) And holy crap on a plane? By himself? GAH! JUST GAH!!! That's very grown behavior! How will you stand it!--M
Sunday November 18, 2007 - 06:14pm (PST)

Author: anonymous

did it eat my f-ing comment?--M
Sunday November 18, 2007 - 06:15pm (PST)


My baby!

The transaction is complete...my baby is boarding a plane and flying solo to see his dad next week!
Six years old, and his first plane ride will be alone! I'm mortified but relieved and proud! It's been rough for Torrin without his dad around. He used to go to his dad's house every day after school. It hasn't been quite a whole month yet since his father moved, but three and a half weeks feels a lot longer when you're six and bored without your papa and best buddy (Torrin's friend, Aaron, 7 moved along with Torrin's dad). Fourteen hours, without stopping, is how long it takes to drive to Torrin's daddy's new locale. I'm not entirely opposed to making the drive, but coordinating the effort with other schedules and such makes it more difficult. Further muddying the visitation waters is the fact that there are no direct flights from Lincoln, Omaha, OR Kansas City to either of the airports within about an hour from Torrin's dad. Torrin will be flying from a state which neighbors his dad's, from a city about 2 hours from my Thanksgiving destination.

Friday November 16, 2007 - 10:46pm (PST)

Wow! I am sure everything will go well.--amber
Tuesday November 20, 2007 - 06:18pm (PST)

The sun has gone to bed and so must I.

The Sound of Music, stuck on repeat in my head. Ahh joy. I think it's about time Torrin saw that movie, come to think of it. Anyway.
The picture at left is my youngest sister, Sophia. She and I have the same father, and she's 19.5 years younger than I. I'm just hoping that she is the last. Now that my mom's had a histerectomy (due to a dermoid cyst), I don't have to worry about her procreating anymore. After I had Torrin she had fancied having another child herself. I suppose she feels robbed of her motherhood. I took off at 13 and her sons, two of my brothers, went to their father's custody shortly before that at the ages of 3 and 8. They are now 14 and 19, the oldest of my siblings. The rest are my father's progeny; a sister, age 12, brother, age 8, sister, also age 8, and the aforementioned 4-year-old. Three of those four have the same mother and live with their grandmother a couple hours away from here. They are all great kids in one way or another. The 12-year-old sister is a standout. She's one who may end up being well-known for her talents in the future, and I can't call her 'little' anymore because at last comparison she was at least as tall as I, and she's likely to end up much taller.

My kids have a great time playing with their aunts and uncles. Mira is especially fond of all three of her aunts, and Torrin likewise loves his uncles, although the youngest, the 8-year-old, is his closest comrade in terms of interests and play.


Harry Potter and the Loud TV

Mira says lots of 'new' words all of the time now (it's actually rather alarming and startling considering that Torrin was only using about 5 words at the same age), but my new favorite as of yesterday is this little gem:
"Hey-dee PAWder!" (Translation: "Harry Potter," with a British accent).
It's also alarming how she has suddenly turned into a little couch potato. She loves watching movies. As soon as we get home in the evening, she asks to "Ah wash Mon-Sink, Mommeeeee!" ("I watch Monsters Inc., Mommeeee"). And, let's be honest, it's waaaay easier to cook when she's absorbed by the Boob Tube instead of screaming, hanging on my leg, like she used to. Torrin wasn't such a media mogul at this age, but then, he was an only child then, and didn't have the Big Sib influence deal going on.
We went to see Bee Movie yesterday. It was all right. Cute, somewhat contrived, but all right. I think I don't like Reneé Zellweger, though. Can't tell you why. It must be the voice. And Mira behaved for nearly the entire duration of the film. She didn't try to run away until we were less than 5 minutes from the end credits. She referred to the theatre as "big TV" and "loud TV."
Today we went to the YMCA, as we always do on Mondays. Well, the theatre we visited just yesterday is across the street. As we skirted by that disastrous corner, Mira cried, "Ah loud TV!" And when I said, "No, Mira, we can't go see a movie today," she responded with, "PWEEEEZE!" She's learned that whining-repetitive-please thing. Not cool.


I did what? (Fri 09 Nov 2007)

What exactly am I doing? I'm always busy, rushed, have no free time. I haven't sat down a drawn a picture, painted, beaded, scrapbooked, nada, in probably a year. Something like that. I know for a fact I haven't done any scrapbooking since before Mira was born. But what exactly am I doing? My house doesn't stay clean. I do cook dinner every night, but it's nothing special. Yesterday evening, for example, I didn't finish writing letters, send thank yous, wash the dishes, or fold laundry. The only thing I accomplished was catching up on the past four days of newspapers, since for some reason or another I haven't had time lately for that either. I feel terribly out-of-the-loop and uninformed when I don't read the newspaper. Gotta keep up with who's getting married, having babies, going to jail, and writing ill-informed letters to the Editor.

Friday November 9, 2007 - 09:26am (PST)

If you can figure out what you are doing...pass it onto me. Except, um, honey, you have an out of the house JOB that counts for time spent. WTF is my problem? ;)--M
Saturday November 10, 2007 - 08:18am (PST)


Go ahead, laugh at me. (Tue 06 Nov 2007)

I bought Britney Spears' new CD.Well, no, wait, edit that statement. I didn't 'buy' it, I 'got' it. With a Best Buy Rewards certificate. Yes, I think the girl has lost her mind (if she ever had one to begin with, that is. Hey, that might be the problem. If she never had a brain how could she be expected to behave rationally?). I definitely wouldn't want her to be my mom and I don't want to watch her lip sync or wiggle through a music video. But I'll listen. I do enjoy occasional fluff.

Tuesday November 6, 2007 - 01:11pm (PST)

And, worse, I like it! Teeheehee. There's one song on it that drives me batty but is also creepily catchy. I seriously feel like slapping her when I hear it though. (It's call "Piece of Me.")
Monday November 12, 2007 - 06:24pm (PST)


Lemme catch m'breath (Sun 04 Nov 2007)

First off, I'm gonna whine.
I am so sick of being treated like sh*t at work. I am fed up with people being mad at me for not paying their bills, or worse, being mad that we only pay a portion. Yeah, right, if we paid everyone's $700 utility bill or $3000 of past due rent we'd be able to help, oh, right, just those two people for the whole year. Honestly I have no idea how the electric or gas company can even allow such bills to accrue. On Thursday I became acquainted with the account of a woman whose electric bill tops $2200. How does that happen? Especially here, where our electric rates are supposedly among the best in the nation.

Waaaaay too much candy.
For Halloween (which may go down in history as the highest-grossing production ever), Torrin was Davy Jones, the be-tentacled, ghostly gross Pirates of the Caribbean character; Mira was a little pirate girl; I was a nun and The Boy Who Lived was a priest. No, I was not a "naughty nun" as Mira's punka$s dad suggested. "Do I look like a naughty nun?" I asked following his accusal, to which he replied, "No, but you...nevermind." About a week ago he sent me an e-mail which asserted, among other things, that he was considering telling my family that I am/was a "sex worker." Are you kidding me? WTH.

Fancy Footwork
Anyway, for reasons including the above, The Chosen One waited at a bookstore while we stopped at Mira's dad's house. He waited in the car while we went in to his mother's house. And narrowly avoided him as he picked up Mira for his first solo overnight visit ever on Friday night. I hate, hate, hate that I'm still playing Hide-The-Boy whenever Mira's dad is entering the equation but I am just not ready to deal with the corresponding fallout.

We had a "talk."
We, as in, me and The Boy Who Lived. Yes, he's still living, and he's still the chosen one. He walked out of my house Saturday morning without telling me that he was leaving. Tired, shoulder-aching, young, frustrated, non-parent that he is, try as he may, he was fed up. Drained of patience. Mira had been gone for the night, so I thought, no problem, I can find someone to watch Torrin so we can go see a movie. American Gangster came out on Friday and he's a movie enthusiast. Since he's been with me, he hasn't seen many movies at all. Mira, and to a lesser degree, Torrin, rather impede that particular activity. Well, the departure of Torrin's dad really puts a damper on sitter availability. I couldn't find one, so we couldn't go.
Unfortunately, we haven't gone out without children since before the last trip to his home state. That may not seem like a long time, but one must remember that the Chosen One isn't an old fogey parent-type like me. I feel like I'm depriving him the spontaneity of youth, limiting his opportunities; domesticating him, taming a wild animal. He feels that he is being selfish. I feel like I'm being selfish. Last night, I had hoped to avenge the previous night's disappointment. At the last minute I found someone to watch the kids while we went to a movie (and it wasn't easy in the slightest to do). We got there fifteen minutes before showtime and the movie was sold out. The Assasination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford was playing at the same time so we went to that instead and it was sooooo slow-moving. They should have played the thing in fast-forward. I don't know why I didn't fall asleep. And to make matters worse Casey Affleck reminds me of Mira's butthead dad Mason. Freaking figures.
I'd sent The Boy Who Lived a text message a couple of hours following his quiet disappearance saying that he should break up with me. I kind of regretted sending it but it did seem that something needed to be said. Unfortunately, I'm probably the one girl who can't talk when it comes time for a Talk. I don't know what to say, or I have something, but it just waits there in my throat for a good fifteen minutes before it escapes, generally against its will. I hate discussions. I hate being put on the spot and I hate answering questions (in person, that is. I'll answer anything if I can type or write it out). In any case we're still highly enamored of each other. That 'love' word runs through my thoughts (uninvited) often but logic gauges the predicament at "deep infatuation."

Sunday November 4, 2007 - 01:51pm (PST)

talks are a good thing-and i know u kno that. if u have to say how u feel on paper, do it! but just get it out there. u guys r so good 2gether, so don't lose him just because u can't find your voice. don't feel bad for him either. he can go out whenever he wants-tell him that so he doesn't feel guilty. U kno his situation and yours....but does he realize that u kno that? I've often felt like mine should break up with me cuz I'm just too crazy and psycologically messed up to maintain a "normal" relationship....and I've said that he should just break up with me or why does he stay with me etc. Guess what? This is pretty normal! And he's not messed up like some of the others have been....he's too good to be true, right? You have to wake up sometime, right? All normal feelings, but the reality if very different. It's hard for me to not feel this way, too. So you're not alone. But u do need 2 talk, as difficult as it may seem. Once I even "talked" on paper to Oskar. I felt kind of stupid, but the situation warranted it and it worked. So whatever u feel for him or whatever your opinion on the situation, if it's going to work, there has to be communication, even if it's in the form of a stupid note! Email me if you need to talk. I check up on you on here, u kno! U do have ppl to talk to...even if it is email. I'd like to know what happens because I care about u. BESOS! --Flamenco dancer
Saturday November 10, 2007 - 04:19am (PST)


Oh, yes, and I forgot to mention... (Sat 27 Oct 2007)

I got pulled over. Less than an hour into our 13-hour jaunt home on Tuesday (though that did include a two-hour stop to see the previously mentioned Mom friend). Late morning, sun glaring into my eyes from the east as I attempted to shield my eyes and greet the state trooper.

"Where're ya headed this morning?" he asked.

"Nebraska," I responded, pointedly, hoping that the Nebraska license plates would help the situation.

"You were going well over 50 mph in a 35 zone," he informed me, explaining further that it dropped down to 25 at some particular street name I'd never heard of before.

"Oh, it was 35 there?" I played stupid. I knew full well that I'd been speeding. He asked to see my driver's license and ID from my passenger. Hmmm. I stayed as calm as possible, silently dreading the possibility of a ticket. I got a speeding ticket in, what, 2004 or so? Did a STOP class for that. Followed by a 'wreckless driving' ticket in 2005, which caused a spike in my insurance rate. Yeah, not something I wanted to go through again.

I got a warning.

"Make sure to be aware of your surroundings in an unfamilar place," the trooper advised.

Yeah, sure I will. Or something like that.

Saturday October 27, 2007 - 01:10pm (PST)

Breaking the law, breaking the law! Now I KNOW that nun get-up was a fake!--Amber
Tuesday November 6, 2007 - 03:41pm (PST)


C'était jolie, la.

Wherever we were...it was pretty. Not as cold as we had anticipated it may have been, either.

Most mortifying moment: When The Boy Who Lived's mom looked squarely at me, as I sat on the couch next to her son, and asked, "So, how serious is this relationship we have going on here?" (My eyes grew wide and I didn't respond). (!)

Randomness: Skittlejerky. Strangely satisfying...beef jerky + skittles, in the same mouthful.

Cool how: With little or no notice a troop of boys/young men about 18 strong organized a game of football. Entertaining to watch too.

Kids had fun: playing in the leaves. We have neither expansive lawnscape nor a rake to create this sort of Fall excitement at home.

Also noteworthy: We met another one of my Internet Mommy friends. Great fun. She was a sweetie and Mira had a blast with her son. Torrin had a blast with her older son's Game Boy. Unfortunately her older children were not home for him to play with but he had fun anyway.


Le Fromage (Sat 20 Oct 2007)

Alive in the Land of Cheese, that is we. Arrived via a Cheese through a Cake Factory which itself purports to be of cheese, drizzling cheese from each dish. America's Dairyland, it is now. And in between those two momentous locales was a vast expanse so desolate it could be referred to as the mold on the cheese. Still fuzzy and green, too, in mid-October.


I thought Voldemort died in the end. (Thu 18 Oct 2007)

Is the end near yet?

I don't know what to do. It seems like I can't win. Not that I want to win, per se. I'm looking more for a draw, where neither wins and neither loses. If I answer his questions, I'll be giving him information he doesn't need to know. If I remain quiet, he assumes the worst and badgers me from there. He doesn't care if Torrin and Mira are there; he's totally comfortable making statements like "Quit spreadin' your legs, Jacinda," and "Would he still spend time with you if you weren't spreading your legs for him?" in full listening range of a six-year-old (and a two-year-old, for that matter). When I won't answer his question ("So is he good, or is he trash?") he tries to get information from Torrin ("So, do you think your mom's new boyfriend is going to be a good dad for you and Mira?").

I told him to give me Mira, and he could leave. I told him I wasn't going to answer his questions. He wouldn't give her to me (of course) and I can't physically make him give her to me. But I'll be damned if I want him taking her if he's going to act like that.I wanted to call the police, but for what? Since he's her father, they can't take her from him. There's no formal custody arrangement, but I am her custodial parent. But even if there were an arrangement, I still don't think he could be prevented from taking her.

He damn well should be. What did he have to say of Mira during this particular exchange? "This is my illegitimate child." How dignifying. WTF. Can't even treat his own daughter with respect.

Thursday October 18, 2007 - 05:25pm (PST)

Ugh. That just sucks. You would think he could be at least a little dignified in the presence of your children. And at least a little respectful of their mother. As for the visitation... no, they probably couldn't physically take her away from him, at least during a visitation that you agreed to; but, likewise, in the future, if you deny visitation, he would have to go to court to get it because you are the custodial parent and you make the decisions at this point. Would he be that motivated? PS: Happy belated birthday, Mira!!!--julie
Saturday October 20, 2007 - 02:30pm (PST)

I'm calling you. This is bullshit and we need to talk. Fuck him. Don't let him even come over anymore-this is not only detrimental to you, but your children. You all deserve better. Who knows what he fills her head with when you're NOT there.--Flamenco dancer
Thursday October 25, 2007 - 12:51am (PST)


Tomorrow, I lose my baby... (Sun 14 Oct 2007)

Because she turns TWO and is totally and officially a toddler, beyond the realm of babyhood. We had her birthday party yesterday, it was a last-minute effort, postponed by half an hour a half an hour before it was supposed to start because I couldn't get everything together as planned. Mira didn't take a nap after lunch as she normally does, and that was the principle time period during which I had planned to get everything done. Then, I go to put in the last ingredient I needed to make her cupcakes, and realize there's only one egg in the refrigerator and I need three. Yeah. So. It happened, anyway, and the house didn't look nearly as bad as it should have. I'll post pics from her birthday party some other time; I haven't downloaded them from my camera yet.

BUT, in honor of her birthday tomorrow, I'd like to share this: it is her uncle wishing her happy birthday from Germany. Fast forward about 50 seconds into the clip, the first part is of little interest to an outsider. :)

Sunday October 14, 2007 - 07:59pm (PST)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIRA! I know she probably does not know who I am, but let her know? Just name recognition at 2 would be pretty impressive!--Spanish señorita
Thursday October 25, 2007 - 01:28am (PST)


My daughter is insane. (Fri 12 Oct 2007)

Behold, above, the remnants of her handiwork. What, exactly, is that evidence of?

Observe, Exhibit A: Scribbled-Sharpie-Marker paper. This is what a practically-two-year-old is capable of getting ahold of and doing within the window of time in which it takes her mother to brush her teeth. Amazingly, she didn't scribble outside the boundaries of the paper even though she did manage to cover a decent amount of the paper expanse in that short time.

Next, witness Exhibit B: Cat food in a child's dish, much of it spilling out onto the coffee table. My daughter likes cat food. She likes it so much, in fact, that I have given up trying to stop her from eating it. She retrieves a bowl and spoon from the kitchen drawer that contains her utensils and such, marches off to the pantry where the cats' food is, and fill her bowl. Then, she proceeds to eat it with a spoon. Chews it. Swallows it. Smiles, then eats more.Whatever. She seems healthy, anyway...

Friday October 12, 2007 - 08:15pm (PST)


That's crazy.She should at least pour some milk over the top of it.--Josh
Friday October 12, 2007 - 08:37pm (PST)


First Fight

If you know what I'm talking about or are curious to learn, click here.
Monday October 8, 2007 - 09:58pm (PST)

I am both fascinated and disturbed by boxing. The thought of someone that I know being a boxer and getting beat up would be wierd to cheer for. --Amber the Great
Tuesday October 9, 2007 - 11:23am (PST)

I still have no idea what it was I was watching but indeed I did watch. Then it cut off at the final round. Like someone pulled the final chapter of pages out of the book!--M
Thursday October 11, 2007 - 09:39am (PST)

Sorry about that, I have no idea why it did that. I fixed the link though, at least, I thought. It should be full-length now. What you were watching was The Boy Who Lived (in yellow) at his first boxing match. He didn't win but he did well.
Friday October 12, 2007 - 07:57pm (PST)

Mourning the loss of Harry (Mon 08 Oct 2007)

Ever since I finished reading the last Harry Potter novel, I can't help but feel that there is something missing from life. There's no plotting ways to steal minutes from each day to read; no more guilty bets being made on who dies. I know everything, and it's unsatisfying. It's like there's nothing left to live for...my only hope is that the movies continue their burgeoning excellence. :)


Mira's First Mania (Sun 07 Oct 07)

Despite my angst-ridden feelings towards The Television and its evil-ness, particular relative to child viewers, my daughter has developed her first show-infatuation. No, we still don't watch (any) TV in our house, but I have always allowed movies, within reason. They don't contain those god-awful, child-seducing marketing ploys dished out in regular seven minute intervals (or whatever it is) in the form of commercials. That's my biggest bone with TV, the next biggest bone being the oversexualization of pretty much everything. Whenever I happen to catch a glimpse of television it is both mortifying and disgusting. But anyway.Mira loves Monsters Inc. We think she rather fancies that Boo is an animated version of herself. Morning, noon and night she wanders around the house, asking, "Mon-sink, peez. Mon-sink peez," at varying levels of whine. At any rate, there are much worse things she could have developed an affinity for, so I'm trying to embrace her Monsters Inc. love as a minor toddler attachment.

Sunday October 7, 2007 - 09:03pm (PST)

Oh at least she's got good taste in movies! That one rocks!!!--M
Monday October 8, 2007 - 08:09am (PST)

We rode in a Monsters, Inc. ride at Disney's California Adventure! We got to ride in little taxicabs all through Monster-ville (or whatever that monster town is) and look for Boo. It was awesome. At the end of the ride, Roz told me she liked my glasses!--Amber


Proud Mama Moment! (Tue 02 Oct 07)

Yesterday was yet another busy day, with the afternoon capped off by a conference with Torrin's teacher. Miss Powell, first grade. As a brief sidenote, just after the school year had begun, my aunt Joyce asked Torrin if there were any pretty girls in his class. He said no, but his teacher was pretty cute. Starting on that older woman trend a bit early! But anyway.

Torrin's been kinda pissy lately. I don't know if it's some kind of resentment towards the Boy Who Lived, frustration with his sister's constant pestering, a combination of the two or neither of the preceding factors. Soooooo, it was kind of nice to go to the conference with his teacher and hear about what a great kid he is. "He is by far the best reader in my class," she gushed, before correcting herself and adding diplomatically, "well there is one other little girl who is almost as advanced in reading as he is." Torrin and that little girl, Ashley, get to go to the library when the rest of the class is working on reading because their skill level significantly surpassesthat of what their class is doing. They can work on reading chapter books or get 'challenge' assignments.

Torrin is also part of a group that goes with the gifted math instructor twice per week. In kindergarten they went once weekly, so that's an increase. His academic achievement burgeons in comparison to behavior concerns. He's far from perfect, and he's got an attitude, some selective listening, plus a whiny voice to prove it. But getting a glowing school report sure helps in the face of a pouty, tantrum-throwing six-year-old.

Tuesday October 2, 2007 - 08:06pm (PST)


Heh. Torrin has the same shirt as me.--Josh
Tuesday October 2, 2007 - 09:14pm (PST)

Awesome! Do you throw temper tantrums too? :) --Jacinda
Wednesday October 3, 2007 - 06:36am (PST)


It's beeen a crappy week. (And as promised, pics...) (Fri 28 Sep 07)

I'm not going to go into the details of why the week has been crappy. But believe me, it has been, and it's been quite busy as well. So it was nice when the following was received as a surprise from The Boy Who Lived:

Then to make things better, we made good on our plans to make a pizza (his idea!). As in, actually make one, not just bake it. Neither of us had even done that before. And truthfully, he put forth 90% of the effort. All I did was chop up red pepper, some onion, and cook the sausages. We did cheat by not making the crust or tomato sauce; I'm willing to tackle the crust and he's more than willing to make a sauce next time. Here is the final product of Pizza No. 1 (Pizza No. 2 is waiting in the refrigerator to be baked tomorrow):

And now for a couple of pictures from last weekend...these are both motorcycle-related pics; the motorcycle belongs to The Chosen One's mother. We went for a nice ride. It's the beginning of fall, but still warm, so there was a beautiful selection of colors painted in the so-alive-it's-breathing scenery. First, me with Mira; then me with The Boy Who Lived on the bike:

Friday September 28, 2007 - 08:48pm (PST)
Helloooo, Leather Girl! ;)--julie
Saturday September 29, 2007 - 04:28pm (PST)

You are the epitome of bike chic! My week was awful, too. French feast and Omaha trip were great, it just wasn;t quite enough to steal the thunder from the craptastic events (and exes) of my life. I bought us some flowers for cheer, and my cat ate half of them. Your fleurs, on the otherhand, look lovely.--Amber,non-blogger extraordinaire


I promise to post pictures next time! :) (Tue 25 Sep 07)

Good news and bad news to report.

Bad news first:

We didn't get to go to the football game as planned. Someone was a scammer. But, rest assured, we are fairly certain that said person is now safely incarcerated. :)

Good news:

-Mira was actually pretty good in the car, even without her brother to entertain her, and without the aid of media in the form of a travel DVD player I didn't borrow from my mom. BUT she wouldn't stay asleep in the car, which was unfortunate given that most of our driving (12 hours there and 11 hrs back) was done at night. It's not 'supposed' to take quite that long to get there but we ran into traffic coming both to and fro and had to make several stops, given that we had a small child in our midst.

-I liked The Boy Who Lived's friends and family.-If possible, I like the Boy Who Lived even more. But as previously stated, I'm not sure that that's even a plausible concept.

-Mira behaved herself remarkably well (in relation to typical or probable Mira behavior based on prior experience). Although I might add it was somewhat peculiar to see The Chosen One's mom doing her hair, giving her a bath, taking her places, etc., especially given that I'd never met her before. It's all good, though, of course.

-I liked The Boy Who Lived's friends and family. (Oh wait, I already said that).

-If possible, I like the Boy Who Lived even more. (Oh wait, I already said that too).

Tuesday September 25, 2007 - 10:56pm (PST)

Rats...you missed the chance to sit in the freezing cold and watch guys run around and hit each other with a ball. But still, the cheering and the hot dogs would be fun! And beer!--Amber
Wednesday September 26, 2007 - 10:21am (PST)

That's a long damn drive for no game! Sucky. But I'm sure glad you can see the positives... and what good positives they are! :)--julie
Wednesday September 26, 2007 - 06:00pm (PST)

hey hey amber...there was no freezing cold! it was beautiful!
Friday September 28, 2007 - 08:27pm (PST)


This is a bit sudden, isn't it? (Fri 21 Sep 2007)

We're driving to WHOOPS-NEVERMIND today. Yeah, um, we'll just say, hop-skipping a state or two or three or whatever-who-cares over, a ten hour drive, and yes Miss Mira will be in the vehicle. We're going to meet the Boy Who Lived's family, as well as go to a professional football game...I'd say the team, but that'd give me away, wouldn't it? There's actually a pretty good story that goes along with how this all came about but...shoot, I need to be packing. And don't bother about the itty-bitty detail that I have to go to work, too.

Unfortunately, we have to turn around and come back immediately following the game because I have a training to attend in Omaha on Monday morning. Positive Parenting or some other possible BS, possible valuable information...for its sake and my own, it had better be the latter as opposed to the former.

Friday September 21, 2007 - 12:32am (PST)

Have a fun trip! I hope the drive is... quiet. :)--julie
Friday September 21, 2007 - 10:03am (PST)

Wooo! Have fun! Good oluck with the drive! Enjoy yourself! (GIVE DETAILS when you're back! ;) )--M
Saturday September 22, 2007 - 11:54am (PST)


Damn. Pumpkin. (Tue 18 Sep 07)

My big toe hurts.
Left foot rammed into a pumpkin as I innocuously perused produce at the grocery store about half an hour ago. Oh, whoops, stubbed my toe. Uttered a curse of some sort and went about my...OW!Why does it still hurt so much? I looked down, and saw blood trickling from under my toenail. Great, I've cracked my toe nail on a flippin' pumpkin? Feeling like an idiot, I bend over beside my cart to more closely inspect my bleeding toe. The nail's not cracked. So it's bleeding...why? And it's still throbbing with agony...why? There's pumpkin bits jammed under my toenail. WTF. My toe nail is neither particularly long nor sharp. But apparently it sliced right into that pumpkin at just the right angle...Feeling even more moronic, I bend back over, and start to pick at my bleeding toe nail...in the grocery store produce section...digging out pieces of pure-evil-pumpkin. Worse still, I'm now home and unable to determine if there's any pumpkin left under there (because damn it still aches...actually, though, getting kinda numb now) and heaven-be-damned if I'm gonna seek treatment for Pumpkined Toenail. Gross. And stupid.

Tuesday September 18, 2007 - 06:54pm (PST)

Oh. my. ow. eww. yuck. EEEEEEEP!!!Maybe you, uh, SHOULD have it looked at? Just in case? Can you imagine pumpkin rot infection in your wounded toe? SICK! (Of course wtf would they do? Look at it, shrug, and say come back if it gets worse most likely.)BTW the character left limit on here makes me amused. I mean, I could probably never meet it I just like watching it tick down super fast as I cruise along.I am way too easily amused. And off topic.Your toe. I feel for it. I'm so so sorry.--M
Wednesday September 19, 2007 - 07:08pm (PST)

I felt like such a whiny b*tch posting this but damn it was true, it DID hurt, and guess what, I DO think it's infected...great. I'll see how it feels in the morning...wait, it is morning...okay, later this morning when I'm SUPPOSED to be awake...Glad the character limit is amusing you. I must admit I kinda like it too. :)
Friday September 21, 2007 - 12:25am (PST)

I've never heard of a pumpkin infection before. Just clean it out really good and slap on Neosporin? And go yell at the idiot who put the pumpkin there in the first place!--julie
Friday September 21, 2007 - 10:05am (PST)


I had a good birthday, thanks :) (Sat 15 Sep 2007)

Thanks to the many MySpace well-wishers (and the few I did see in person too). I had a good day. It started off in usual business form, with a meeting at 9am where my agency got totally bashed and reprimanded and followed by a person who was an hour late to her appointment after practically yelling at me over the phone the day before because I couldn't pay for her grandchild's birth certificate at that very moment. But she was polite when she did arrive, and thankfully was pleasant enough throughout the rest of the ordeal. Actually, even though I was hella busy at work on my birthday ('twas Thursday, the 13th--next year will be a Friday again! Yay), everyone was at least cordial. If you don't know, I work at a Native American community cultural center as Executive Assistant and also help with family services, which is what truly encompasses most f my time spent there. I was busy all day long doing intakes, giving diapers and personal hygiene items to families and other sorts of things, but not a one of those people was rude or overly demanding, which is often the case. :)
The wand and halo were a gift from a beloved co-worker. You know, one of the few I don't feel like strangling on a regular basis. In the evening, we went to play Laser Tag with my son, my son's dad, my son's friend, two of my younger brothers, and The Boy Who Lived. It was fun, and I screamed a lot. Because, I scream, that's my thing. I don't mean to do it, I just do.
At night, we went with my friend Edie, and again, The Chosen One. Had fun. Drank a bit. Stayed out too late, but not to the point where I had a hangover or couldn't get to work in the morning.


Heaven Help Us All (Mon 10 Sep 2007)

I'm really coming to the end of my rope in terms of Voldemort. I refuse to share with him the identity of the Boy Who Lived. Absolutely refuse. No matter who he threatens to call in attempt to harvest information, despite the many insults he slings my way. Interestingly, there is a source of information right under his nose. Thankfully, that source has remained mysteriously silent. I don't understand why or how this is possible, but I am grateful for this tiny bit of censorship (because it certainly has nothing to do with any allegiance towards me).


Too Cute for Her Own Good (Fri 07 Sep 2007)

Who would believe that this child is a tyrant? And it gets worse...she's developing her speech skills at an alarming rate, finally...just try to say no to this cute little face after its corresponding cute little voice asks for "moooore peeeze" of something. Or try to deny her being picked up when she asks for "hug, peeeze."
On the other hand, she is getting very good about going to her time-out spot, and coming out of said time-out spot better behaved.
Friday September 7, 2007 - 10:45am (PST)


The time out spot is the next step here. I have serious doubts that she'll stay. But you're right... tyrant is the perfect word to describe it.--julie
Friday September 7, 2007 - 09:57pm (PST)

OMG tyrant is so unbelievable because what a doll she is. She always looks so grown up. Though time out spot? I am SUPER jealous that works! WOOT for effective punishment!--M

Saturday September 8, 2007 - 07:19am (PST)


Mama Heart Attack! (Mon 03 Sep 2007)

It's Labor Day. La-dee-freakin' da, but hey, cool, we get to stay home 'n chill. Or something like that.

So, there I was, nonchalantly cooking a gourmet lunch of macaroni and cheese and green beans. Waiting for the water to boil. Torrin and Mira had been permitted to go outside, but only on the porch. The silence on the porch was a dead giveaway to the lack of instruction-following, so I paraded on outside, slightly nervous at what may be transpiring on the perimeter of my house. Of course, they're not on the porch. Look down the west side of the house, towards the back, where we park our car and there's a ton of gravel. Mira loves to throw rocks. No sign of the two.

Okay, starting to feel a bit panicked. I yell, "Tooooooooorrin!" No response.

Back to the front of the house, look down the block to the east and up toward the west. Nothing, at first, except it looks like the neighbors a few buildings away are having another garage sale.

Wait a second! There's Torrin on his bike, coming toward the house, down the hill. He gets going pretty fast on that hill sometimes...

Where's Mira?

Oh, sh*t! She's on the bike too!

Yeah, no training wheels...they've been absent for over a year now. I guess Torrin is a pretty steady rider after all...and that four-and-a-half year age difference is seeming to not interfere much with sibling scheming...

Monday September 3, 2007 - 02:09pm (PST)

OMG I would've freaking died.

That said? That pic is unreasonably cute and Mira is really sobworthy old now!--M
Monday September 3, 2007 - 04:18pm (PST)

Makes for a great picture, though!--Amber
Monday September 3, 2007 - 06:33pm (PST)


Like, OMG, Becky, her butt is soooo big. (Sat 01 Sep 2007)

Thursday, I went to my local friendly slightly ghetto downtown YMCA. This is nothing unusual; we go there a couple of times per week. I did my typical 20 minutes on the elliptical. At one point I looked up from my book long enough to turn my head and see a little, blonde, fakely-orange tanned girl totally scrutinizing her rear end in the mirror in full view of everyone in the room, including one or maybe two men. Ummmokay. Whatever. Back to Harry Potter.

Next I set out to do my weight training circuit which is on the same floor adjacent to the cardio machines. Again, nothing unusual. In fact, since we had gone later than we normally do in the evening, it was actually less crowded and I was able to go through the first six machines without interruption or having to wait for someone to get off of something. Now, on the seventh machine, an inner thigh deal, The Blonde Butt-Checking Girl was sitting. And had been sitting. In fact, she hadn't used the machine at all in the past five minutes that she'd been sitting on it. She was doing her makeup. And text messaging on her phone.

Now this is all fine and dandy but it was pretty obvious that I was going to want to use that machine. I was utilizing the circuit, doing 1 or 2 sets of 10-20 reps on each machine, in order. And it's annoying to go out of order because they're set up in a way that you won't do two different leg or arm machines consecutively; that is, there'll be a leg machine followed by something for the arms following by another kind of leg thing and then something for your abs or back. Or whatever. Anyway, she was in my way and she was either oblivious or didn't care. So, I skipped around her, grudgingly, screwing up my sequence. I'm next to her, using an upper arm machine, as she continues to waste space (and oxygen) on herself, sitting on the inner thigh machine, not using it or anything. She gets up. I'm excited, thinking she's finally going to move. Nooooo. She just stands there, directly adjacent to the machine, in such a way that she's in the way and she has to know it by now. So what does she do? Calls up her friend. "Heeeey! I was just wondering if you wanted to go with me tomorrow to get our nails done? Or do you work? I need to get my nails done!"

You're freakin' kidding me. Thank god, she left after that.

Saturday September 1, 2007 - 10:12am (PST)


If you can't take the heat, get yo a$s out da kitchen. (Tue 28 Aug 2007)

Actually I think that maybe I'm the one who can't take the heat. Strange, too, that this should happen when I've been feeling happier. Not that I was depressed before...I haven't had that problem since well before Mira was born, and since a good deal before I got pregnant too. But nonetheless, I am happier lately. So why am I so stressed out? Yeah, sure, I could elaborate...I have some ideas. But...maybe in the future, I'll get into it.