an ending to a saga

Yesterday Doug and I went on our first date in 8 months. When I mean date, I mean anywhere at all, without the kids. We saw Star Wars. Finally, and thank god. Doug saw it opening day of course. I am a huge fan and have been dying to see it. Growing up, before I had Strawberry Shortcake or Cabbage Patch dolls, I had Star Wars action figures. The neighbor boy down the street always came over to play, and he was Luke Skywalker, and I of course was Princess Leah. I had all the cool star ships, the posters on my wall, and my dad took me to the first showing in L.A. of Return of the Jedi when I was three. (my brother was not born yet, so I served as both son and daughter. I didn't mind) We waited a loooong time, but it was awesome. I think it was the first time I'd ever been the the movies. I thought the actors were real people behind the screen, and we were watching their story. I remember wanting to open the exit door at the front of the theater and watch Luke Skywalker in action. Luke was soooo cool, and I wanted to meet him, and the Ewoks. They were cuddly.

Anyway, what a wonderful ending to the story. I mean...it sucked actually. Not the movie itself, just how it all ended. I mean, I know he's eventually going to be Darth Vadar, obviously. I just really liked the damn character, and I couldn't help hoping he would change his mind at the end, like all good guys do. It really was more emotional then I thought it would be. It's like watching the movie Titanic. You know it's going to sink, even before you sit down to watch it, but damned if you don't feel shitty when it does, you know? All in all, it was wonderful. The story in it's entirety has been told, and I'm quite sad that it's over. But.... Narnia comes out this fall, and it's going to be awesome. From what I've heard, they are doing all the Chronicles of Narnia over several movies. Those were some of my favorite books as a kid. Maybe I'll read the first one this summer again.

In other news, I'm going to see a doctor on Thursday. I'm pretty sure I'm having some post partum issues, or as Doug says, I'm going psycho. I'll see what I can do to remedy that, even if it means taking some "crazy pills". I'll do whatever it takes to be a better mom, and right now, I'm not a very nice one.

bitchfest

I'm stuck in a rut, and I don't know what to write about. Well, except my dad's getting fired. It's a set-up by a crazy bitch, and it sucks. Honestly, if I didn't know it was wrong, I'd love to beat the shit out of her. Okay for all of you out there who are stupidly thinking I'm making a threat, think again. I'm simply stating what I'd LIKE to do, not what I'd actually do. Yeah, I'm upset. I'll write about that more a little later, maybe. Jade's sick today. She's having a hard time nursing. I'm pretty sure it's an ear infection, which means I won't be getting any sleep for the next week or so. These are the days I wish I pulled my head out of my ass when I agreed to have kids.

an e-mail i received today

~ Power of a Woman ~

Her heart is set on making life
As rich as it can be.
She uses all, within her means,
To improve reality.

She tends the beauty of her home
With loving hands that care.
Whether rich or poor, you'll always find
A touch of magic there.

A woman's heart is very strong
And filled with firm resolve
To do her best for those she loves,
Including friends who call.

When hardships threaten to destroy
The things that she holds dear,
She walks right on, with head held high,
And casts aside her fears.

Her heart is sometimes broken,
In valleys of despair.
But, even if she sometimes falls,
She doesn't linger there.

A woman knows that gentleness
Will never make her weak.
It lights the path, along the way,
To find the things she seeks.

Be careful how you judge her.
There is much you may not know.
For, the power of a woman
Is locked deep within her soul.

for penny and kelly

Here are ya'lls questions"

Kelly:
1. Do you believe in aliens?
2. What was the scariest moment of your life?
3.If money were no object, where would you choose to live?
4.What did you REALLY think of me when we first met?
5.If you could say one thing to our Mother-in-Law without hurting her feelings, what would it be? (it has to be something to get off your chest)

Penny:1. What was the happiest moment of your life?
2 Do you regret anything you have done during your life? Why?
3. What is your favorite season? Why?
4.Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
5.What characteristics of yourself do you hope Oee has inherited? Which ones do you hope she hasn't?

Interview

Here are my interview questions from Daphne. Read the instructions at the end of this Q&A session if you want to be interviewed, too.

1. Is there anything in your life you regret doing/not doing? Why?

I regret wasting my time in high school. I still have dreams about my government teacher warning me I won't graduate unless I show up for class the last week. I used to ditch all the time and I never took anything seriously. I don't think I had the confidence to actually apply myself. I've never really finished anything by giving 100 percent. It would have been nice to actually study and get good grades in high school. Maybe then I might have some sense of accomplishment in my life.

2. Who is your favorite author?

That would Tolkien, by far. I'm not too well read, and one book I'd really like to read is Weathering Heights. But for now, Tolkien is my favorite author, hands down. I have recently read James Patterson, and I really enjoyed him as well.

3. If you had to give up one of your five senses, which one would it be?

I'd have to say sense of smell. I mean really, I couldn't very well give up my sight. I looooove food too much to give up taste, and hearing? I'd much rather give up smell.

4. On your deathbed, what is the one thing you would tell each of your children?

I would probably tell them both that I love them, and to be happy in life, along with being responsible. I'd tell them to be open and listen to their hearts. I'd tell them to set goals and work towards them. I'd tell them they are children of god, and they have great worth. I'd tell them I'm proud of them, and that I will be with them. I guess that's more than one thing.

5. What is your favorite dish to cook? To eat?

My favorite dish to cook?? Hmmmmmmm Well my favorite thing to bake is bread because kneading it is so therapeutic. I love how dough squishes between my fingers. It feels awesome. I guess my favorite dinner to make would be meatloaf, for the same reason! I love to squish it between my fingers. Jared likes to help. Myfavorite dish to eat is probably some type of pasta in alfredo sauce with shrimp. Doug's not so much into pasta, otherwise I'd learn how to make it. It's sooooooooo good.


The Official Interview Game Rules

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."

2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.

3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

love

 

I'm craaaaaaaaazy

So tomorrow I'm having company and today was not so much a good day. Not because I'm stressing about having company, but because the mental schedule I've made for myself has been completely shat on. It's kinda freakning me out a bit. We were supposed to go to Walmart YESTERDAY so I could do laundry all day today for Doug's trip tomorrow. I was supposed to get the kitchen floor mopped TODAY, so I wouldn't have to do it tomorrow morning. Something as little as prolonging a trip to walmart is totally stressing me out. Yesterday we had a birthday party for Dou'gs brother, so not much got done. Today we watched all the episodes of Smallville we've missed over the season, so the floor didn't get mopped, and we still haven't gone to walmart. AS I'm explaining all of this freakiness to Doug, I can feel my heart palpitate, and my temper flaring. I feel out of control. If things don't go excatly the way I plan them, I get all psycho. Well, I don't get all CRAZY psycho or anything, I just get a little OCD. Today I walked into Jared's bedroom, and I could feel some sort of panic attack set in as I saw the complete mess he was sitting in. Toys were everywhere, and nothing was organized. I don't know why it freaks me out like that. I've never been this way. Ever. In fact, I've always been spontaneous, and disorganized. For some reason I'm feeling the need to be in control of something, or have a regimented way of life. It's nuts, I know. I don't know what the hell is going on anymore. I have realized I'm fine, as long as I stick to some sort of schedule, or routine every day. Maybe I'm just crazy, after all.

The adventure of the day

Today started out alright, except for the lack of sleep I got last night due to Jade's congestion that kept me up most of the night. I felt better though, after a cup and a half of coffee this morning. The daily routine started out well. Breakfast, then cleaning the kitchen, picking up the living room, and getting the kids dressed. We went out for our daily walk around 11:30, and by that time it was already starting to get hot. We headed back just before noon, and I got the kids upstairs to our apartment. I noticed the house smelled a little foul, so I gathered up the trash, and took it downstairs to the dumpster, which is about 15 or 20 feet away. I left Jade in her infant carrier from our walk, since I was just going to be a few seconds. I left the door open, so Jared could watch me, like he always does.

AS I was heading upstairs, Jared decided step outside, and lock the bottom lock on the door and shut it. We were LOCKED OUT. Jade was in there alone. The maintenance office was right next to the dumpster, and I always see the head maintenance guy go in and out all day long. "No biggie" I thought, I'll just walk on over there, explain what happened, and he will just let us right back in. Nope. The maintenance room was closed and locked, and he was NOWHERE to be found. Sooooo, Jared and I rushed over to the manager's office up front. The door was closed, and locked. A sign was posted out front, they were on their lunchbreak. Shit. I walked around the entire complex, searching for someone in maintenance, or one of the office managers. Everyone was gone, I couldn't find anyone.

A lady and her son pulled up in a car, seeing I was in distress and offered to drive around to look for somebody. That was sweet of her. She eventually found the security patrol car that patrols the property 24 hours a day. He radioed a few people, and even HE couldn't find the right people to come unlock my damn door. It was getting pretty hot outside, and we had been running all over the place. Jared's face was red, and I could see he was getting short of breath. I picked him up and walked back over to my apartment, where I could hear through the open windows my poor baby screaming. She's been in there alone for about 25-30 minutes now, and I was getting frantic.

I finally knocked on the door of our downstairs neighbor, in hopes of her finding the pager number for maintanence. As soon as she opened the door, I lost it. I broke down and started sobbing. "My poor baby is locked in the apartment and I can't get to her. I can hear her crying, and I need to get in." She didn't know what the hell to do. As she went in the back to look for a number to call, the office manager came walking toward me, keys in hand. "Someone told me you were locked out" she said. Thank god for her. I was so glad to see her, I could have hugged her. I was sobbing hysterically, and Jade was screaming. I have never had such a feeling of complete helplessness. She opened the door, and there was my precious Jadie looking up at me. She immediately stopped crying. I picked her up, and held her and nursed her, and sang to her. She snuggled right up to me and fell asleep. What a day. I'm still shaken, and I will bring the keys next time I take out the trash.

he must have learned it from Doug

This was tonight's conversation:

Jared: "Mommy, Jade says da da daa"
me: "yes, she does. Can you say supercalifragilousdeexpialidosious?"
Jared: "uhh, no, I can't"
me: "oh. Well, what do you say?"
Jared: "Sometimes I say fuck"

great. That's wonderful.

poor jared

Sometimes I feel like a bad parent. I used to spend so much more time with jared before the baby was born. All my time and energy was focused on him every day, all day. We used to play together, read stories all the time, play games, cuddle together, and have conversations about silly things only little kids talk about.

I know I haven't been giving him the attention he's been needing lately. He's been acting out more, trying to get my attention any way he can. He runs around the house acting like a wild banshee in hopes of me acknowledging him. I know part of this is boredom, but I am also splitting my time between him and Jade now. I feel so bad when I'm in the middle of an activity with jared, and the baby gets fussy. I let her fuss for a while, give her a toy or her pacifier, hoping she will hold off until I am done with the game, but of course her whining turns into a poor pathetic, heart wrenching cry I can't ignore. Jared gets upset and jealous, and he doesn't understand why she comes first, or why I will drop everything I'm doing to rush to calm a crying baby. I try to get him involved in soothing Jade when she needs me. He tries, and he means well, but he just wants his mommy. He doesn't want to make goofy faces at his sister who seems to be stealing his only mother.

Tonight during his bath, Jade needed to be nursed, so I left the bathroom to feed her. (no, I'm not careless, the bathroom is right next to the living room, so if anything happened to him, I could hear and see at all times) As I was getting up to leave, jared pleaded with me to stay and play with him. All he wanted to do was play. He deserves that, and he needs it. I wanted to cry when I left to feed Jade. I just felt so badly for him. After his bath, I read to him for a long while and he sat in my lap and played with my hair. I let Jade roll on the floor and chew on her toys, which was just fine with her. When it was time for bed, he didn't want to go, he just wanted to cuddle with me for a while. He missed that, and I did too.

Maybe I need some alone time with my jared monster. Maybe we can have a little outing tomorrow, just the two of us, where I can chase him, and tickle him, and spend a few hours with just him. We can have long un-interrupted conversations again about things only he understands. I miss that.

May 14th

Sorry the picture is off kilter, I can't quite fix it. The scanner is broken.
Junior year was 11 years ago. That's when we first met. Well, actually, it was the summer before junior year. I just came back from summer vacation with my parents and arrived at the annual band camp a few days late. I said my hellos to all the regulars, and nodded my head toward the new freshman. As I was getting my drum out of the band room, I saw the newest addition to the drumline. I had never seen her before, and I was immediately drawn to her. She looked like me, and had the same air about her that I think I do. She looked to be about my age. She looked just a little nervous, but not as much as I would be coming to a new school. I asked the drum captain who she was. "She's the new cymbal player" he said.

Out on the field, we went through our regular warm-ups together as a drumline. 8-on-a-hand was always the first exercise. I noticed her. I saw how proficient she was at playing, and how she seemed to take control of those cymbals, which wasn't an easy task. She defiantly had a knowledge of music, this was no beginner. At the break, we took a walk to the water fountain where I finally introduced myself. She seemed nice, but a little shy. She just moved here from New Mexico where she was in quite a large marching band. I think I asked her how she liked it here, and to my surprise, she said she missed the mountains. My initial thought was "we live in a valley, there are mountains surrounding us, aren't there?".

At the first football game of the season, we hit it off right away. She was the funniest person I had met in a very long time, and we had a blast. One of the cheers we, as the fans used to chant was "M-V-H-S FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!!!" Well, being the rebels we were back then, we changed the words to "M-V-H-S BITE MY BUTT!!! Of course it was our inside joke, and no one even heard us yelling our rude little cheer. We always had the best times at football games. She and David would fight like cats and dogs, and both of their faces would turn red as beets. It was all I could do to keep a straight face during those ridiculously funny fights.

Over the course of the rest of the year, we became wonderful friends. She had these bellbottoms, (before they were popular again) with flowers painted on the bottom of them. She used to spray those flowers with rose perfume and have me smell them. I've never known anyone to spray their pants like that. That's her. She's always doing funny, cute little things like that.

She had a make-up bag filled with every kind of lipgloss you can imagine. Every time we met up, I used a different kind. I think her favorite was the bees-wax. That was kinda strange to me back then...beeswax lip balm. She taught me to wipe my finger covered in gloss (from those messy pots) on the inside of my sock if I didn't have a tissue handy. That way, I wouldn't get it on my clothes. She always thought of things like that, that just made plain old sense.

Senior year came and went, and by the time we graduated, we were still very close. We went to grad nite together at Disneyland and danced the night away. We went clubbing together when I got my first car, we were quite the hotties back then. (at least I think so) When she moved down to San Diego for school, I went to visit her about twice a month. We'd go down to Tijuana for the evening to dance, and guys would buy us drinks just to watch us shake our asses to "The Rump Shaker", and various Beasty Boys songs. We were the shit and we knew it. Oh yes, we were.

When she became pregnant with her first child, I was elated for her, I just didn't quite know how a baby would fit into the equation once she came. To this day, I feel guitly about how little I was there for her during that time in her life. I missed so much of the early months of her baby's life. I was afraid to hold her, and play with her. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with a baby anyway? She can't talk back, or even understand what I'm saying. (or so I stupidly thought back then)

We fell out of touch for a year or so, and during that time all I could think about was how to get her back. I missed my best fried terribly, and I would have dreams of seeing her again. I hated waking up from those dreams. I felt a part of me was gone, and it was.

When we "got back together", it was like we never lost touch. It seemed like all was almost immediately forgiven, because we mean that much to each other. Friendship like this doesn't come along very often in life, and we both knew that.

I can tell her anything, I can be me, who I am to the core, and she still loves me. She accepts me for who I am, for all my faults, and she sees things in me others don't. She has been there for me in every way possible, and I know she would do anything for me. She's that kind of person. I am so glad to have her in my life. Those memories we made so long ago are some of the fondest I have, and I will hang on to them forever.

Thank you poopyhead, for your friendship, and the good times. Happy Birthday, I love ya. 

Tagged

Daphne tagged me.

The rules are simple when you're tagged.
Choose 5 items from the list to write about.
Tag 3 other individuals when you're done.

If I could be a scientist
If I could be a farmer

If I could be a doctor I would be an OB/GYN. Although I'd have to look at vaginas all day long, I'd love to bring precious babies into this world. It's such a special, spiritual, beautiful moment when a baby takes his first breath of life.If I could be a painter

If I could be a gardener, I'd grow roses. Tons of them. Everywhere.

If I could be a missionary

If I could be a chef, I would cook delicious, succulent dinners every single night and have friends and family over all the time. My specialty would be steak and shrimp, and Doug would brag to his work buddies about how great I am in the kitchen. Damn, I really wish I were a chef.

If I could be an architect
If I could be a linguist

If I could be a psychologist, I'd have my own practice and help people with debilitating mental illnesses. The mind is soooo interesting to me, I'd love to learn more.

If I could be a librarian
If I could be an athlete
If I could be a lawyer
If I could be an innkeeper
If I could be a professor

If I could be a writer, I'd write children's books and win those cool awards like the Newbury(I think it's called.) Then, I'd have lots of money and buy a huge cabin up in the woods of Washington. That would be nice.

If I could be a llama rider
If I could be a bonnie pirate

If I could be an astronaut,that means I'd be super smart. I'm cool with that.

If I could be a world famous blogger
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world,

I tag Penny, Kelly, and Ape

the visit

I went to see my longtime friend Cyndi yesterday. It was really great seeing her again and we had a great time. Even the kids were good. Let me tell you, this girl can do it all. She scrapbooks, AND sews her ass off, AND decorates cakes, AND makes bracelets, AND to top it all off, she has the most perfect teeth I've ever seen. Bitch. No really, she's great and I love her. I'm hopefully going back to see her sometime soon, and this time I'll bring my pictures from 7th grade that haven't seen the light of day in years. Fun times. 

hey all you Star Wars fans, check this out!

Doug got a kick out of this.

Warning: this is a birth story

What to write about? Hmmm. I feel the need to blog, but I don't have much to say. I hate when that happens. My life isn't all that exciting, you know. Yes, a housewife has many jobs and responsibilities, but most of her day is dull and drab, with the occasional funny "something" her kids might say out of the blue. Jared says funny things all the time, but I don't ever remember them when it's time to blog. Hmmm, wanna know my birth story with Jade? C'mon, you KNOW you do!

So there I was, hugely pregnant at 4 days overdue. At my last checkup I was not dilated, not effaced, or anything. Just shut, and tight. (my cervix that is. I told you men, you don't wanna read this!) She was due on the 10th. So on the 14th, which is April's b-day, I woke up and noticed my mucus plug had come out, and thought nothing of it. Well, actually I thought I might go into labor the next day. A couple hours later, as I was cooking breakfast, I noticed some contractions that were becoming a bit painful. No biggie I thought. After all, I was in labor for days with Jared. As I was doing the dishes, I noticed they were becoming a bit stronger, to the point I'd have to stop what I was doing and breathe deep to get through them. I watched the clock and noticed they were still irregular and about 15-17 minutes apart. I don't know why I was dumb enough to get on my hands and knees to scrub the kitchen floor, but I did. As I was scrubbing like a freaking madwoman, they became painful enough that I realized I needed to stop what I was doing, and sit my ass down before I fell over from the pain. They were still 15 minutes apart at this point, and I didn't want to go into the hospital too early, only to tell me to go home. This happened several times with my Jared.

I decided a nice warm shower was in order. It would help me relax, and maybe I would have this baby early tomorrow. (or so I thought) In the shower my contractions were comming about every 8 minutes or so, and I was in so much pain, I was climbing the walls. (okay, not REALLY, but you get the picture) I was moaning, and groaning, and cursing, and digging my nails into Doug's poor arm, and he didn't mind one bit.

After getting out of the shower, I decided we should probably make arrangements for Jared to spend the night at my in-laws, and get my laboring ass to the hospital. (the contractions, to my surprise 3 minutes apart and getting stronger by the minute)

So, we scrambled to get our things together, and at this point I'm in so much pain I'm making some pretty loud noises. Finally we all piled in the car, and raced over to Doug's parents house. I stayed in the car, and Doug quickly dropped him off. The hospital is only a few miles away, and thank god for that because at this point I'm yelling obscenities, and clawing the interior in the car.

When we arrive, they immediately put me in triage and told me to pee in a cup. I couldn't do it, and I didn't care. I was yelling and cursing, and pacing, and moaning, and this is WAY more intense then my first labor. "well no wonder you're hollering so much, you are almost dilated to an 8". What?? "Roll her into delivery, and get a bed ready now".

So in the delivery room I'm having one contraction after another, and each one feels like my bowels are being tied in knots, and my asshole is going to rip open any second. (it feels like you have to poop, only it's the biggest dump you can imagine)
I was screaming at this point because I had to push. The nurse told me I wasn't ready, and the doc was delivering another baby. I think I SCREAMED I have to effing push NOW!!!!

So in about 5 minutes a doctor comes in, throws some gloves on, and sits down right in front of my vagina. The baby is crowing at this point, and as I'm pushing, I feel this burning sensation like my vagina is being ripped apart. "What the eff is that?" I scream. "That's the baby's head". Holy freaking cow. The pain. Ohhh, the pain, people. All I could do was scream. That's it. Just scream. Scream for the love of god to get me through this, and get this damn kid out.

Once the head came out, I had to get the shoulders through. That was a bit quicker. I looked down, and saw the full head of hair and a squished face that was my daughter. At the doctor's prompting, I reached down under her arms and pulled my beautiful Jadie out and held her on my stomach. That was such a beautiful moment. I fell in love with her right there and then. She was so warm, and perfect, and all the screaming and pushing, and complete hell that I had just gone through was all worth it. I would do it all again, just for that one moment, where no one was in that room but us. She was mine, forever. Thank you god, for that.

fun times and POOP

today we had some fun. Jared went out on his usual bike ride, and actually pedaled the entire way. He usually stops in the middle of the sidewalk to "look for clues", whatever that means. They are both napping now, after a playful morning. As we were going back to our apartment upstairs, I noticed a nasty pile of poop in the planter at the foot of our stairwell. It wasn't cat poop. It was either dog, or human. I know you are all disappointed i don't have a picture of THAT! I wasn't about to pick that nasty crap up, so I called the front office and told them to do it. Poop. Yuck.  

she loves this saucer 

cutie-pants 

a little tidbid about mom

In honor of Mother's Day, I've decided to write a post about my own mother. This was inspired by Daphne's post about Phoebe.

My mother has the voice of an angel when she sings. She's a classical pianist, and she plays the guitar. Before I was born, she and my father used to sing Janis Joplin songs around the campfire at the beach.

When I was younger, she taught me how to sew, even though I had no patience for it. I often spent more time ripping seams out then actually sewing. I gave that up out of frustration. When I was seven, I wanted to play piano as beautifully as she did. I spent many hours dancing like a ballerina to Chopin or Mozart that was played in the evenings. She had quite a knack for Chopin, it was her favorite, and probably still is.

I took piano lessons in hopes of one day being able to play as beautifully as her. I tried to quit several times, once again out of frustration. She wouldn't let me quit until I was 18, and of course I did. But, at that time, I was able to teach others, so it worked out well.

She taught me high morals and standards, and to be kind to others. She's one of the kindest people I know. Every night before I went to bed, she kissed me and told me she loved me. She's not judgmental, not proud, or boastful, or jealous. She's genuine, loving, giving, thoughtful, and has integrity beyond anyone I have ever met. She works with kids every day after school teaching them to read. She gardens, she cooks, she scrapbooks, and she reads her scriptures every day. She plans activities and lessons for the church youth group every week. She is the chorister for the church congregation, and leads them in song every Sunday. She sings in the choir as one of the lead sopranos.

She loves her children, even though we didn't grow up and follow the path she wanted us to in life. She has never held it against us, or condemned us, or told us we are bad children for falling away from the church. She loves her grandchildren, and they love her. She reads to Jared every visit. She runs with him outside with the dogs, she helps him pick fruit off her trees, and eat it without washing it first. She is the epitome of a good mother, and I hope I treat my kids with as much respect as she treats me. I love her dearly, and I realize how lucky I am to have her. The other week, she gave me the biggest compliment of my life. She said I'm the best mom she knows. Well, she's the best I know, and I'm glad she's mine.

impending doom?

I had another water dream last night. I don't have much to blog about these days, so I thought I'd share my dream. It was quite a bit different then the last time.

Doug, the kids and I were visiting my parents who live about 90 miles away, probably for Mother's Day. After dinner, Doug and my father went into the garage to look at something. While they were out there, it started to rain. The rain started out light, and became heavier and heavier. Pretty soon it was pouring, and you could hear the rain so loudly on the roof, you had to raise your voice just to be heard. My mom and I were looking out the window, and we were worried because we were planning to leave within the hour. In a matter of minutes, the ground was saturated and the streets were beginning to flood. Water was rushing quickly down the street, and it started to churn at the intersection by my parents house. My mother and I could hear the clap of thunder off in the distance, and we both knew I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Just then, the street on the side of their house upheavled, and the sidewalk was completely covered in mud and debris. Muddy water was rushing down the street, and huge twigs were stuck in the gaping cracks made by the flood. Water was churning and swirling like a whirlpool, and it would suck down anything that came rushing by.

Doug and my dad came back into the house from the garage. Doug asked if I was ready to go. I looked at him like he was crazy, and told him to look outside. As he did so, the sun was shining, and the sky was beautiful. The streets were still flooded though, and I told him we would be staying there for the night.

I looked up flood online, and this is what it said. Weird. I've been under a lot of stress lately, ALOT. I'm wondering if I need to take some meds for anxiety or stress or something. I don't think I'm depressed, I'm just mad all the time, and I'm turning into a royal bitch, especially when it comes to Jared. Poor little guy, I feel badly when I'm mean to him, but he's in that very defiant independent stage right now, and it drives me nuts. Dealing with that is stressful. I think I'll make an appointment to get a massage next week. I need a cleansing. I hope that helps.


By the way, I think it's going to rain today.

You know why I hate those "chirp" cell phones?

Becuase last night some self-centered, ignorant jack ass was yelling into one right under our bedroom window at 1:45am, that's why. He was talking to his stupid loud-mouth girlfriend, who was aparently yelling LOUDER into hers. I could see this vision in my head of me getting up out of bed and storming downstairs, throwing Jared's ball right at his head. When he turns to see what the hell just beamed him in the nose, I yank his over-priced blinged-out phone from his shaking hand,(he's shaking because he's scared) and throw it into the parking lot. THEN, I jump in my car, put it in drive, and run over the damn thing.

Don't mess with my sleep people, or my food.

bone to pick

I'm a bit ignorant when it comes to government and politics. But I will tell you one thing that really upsets me. The middle class of people of this country get the shaft, plain and simple.

Why is it I can't afford to put Jared in preschool because it will cost us an extra $400 a month? (just for part time). Four hundred freaking dollars a month for 3 days a week, three hours a day. THAT, is incredibly ridiculous. We don't have 400 extra bucks a month just laying around so Jared can learn repetitive annoying songs and make new friends. After calling around for an hour in hopes of finding SOMETHING affordable, I came across the add for Headstart. It's a preschool program that's completely FREE!! After speaking with the receptionist for about 15 minutes, she finally drops the bomb on me. You have to QUALIFY. And, lo and behold just because it's my dumb ass luck, we don't, and headstart is only for those on gov assistance.

Sooooo, if you sit on your ass all day picking your nose, you get free food, free health care, free preschool, and monthly checks to buy all the crack, uh I mean necessities you need. BUT, if you get your ass up every day and make an honest living, you cant afford shit. (unless you happen to make an assload of money of course)

Look, I have been on government assistance before people. Doug was unemployed for a freaking year, during which time I got pregnant. Yes, I had free health care, and yes, we received unemployment checks from the government twice a month. Thank god for that. I'm not an ungrateful bitch. All I'm saying is, to me it just doesn't make sense.

Why does the middle class get the short end of the stick? I'm all for the government helping those in need, IF needed. But, why are child and health care so costly? Why hasn't anyone fixed this yet?

Just to let you all know who may be curious, I did find a preschool for Jared. My sister in law has a friend who does it in her home for $85 a month. Can't beat it. We are going to check it out this week.

teaching little sis the ways of the Jedi 

I'm allowed to poke fun.

There's a Mormon
By Jeff Foxworthy

This is to all of you that may be a Mormon, that may know a
Mormon, that may live in Utah, that may have lived in Utah, or have
heard about Mormons.

If all your dishes have your name written on them with masking tape...>
You might be a Mormon.

If you postdate your checks while shopping on Sunday... You
might be a Mormon.

If you believe Heck is the place for people who do not believe
in gosh... You might be a Mormon.

If your Mom was pregnant at your sister's wedding reception...
You might be a Mormon.

If you pray that your food might "nourish and strengthen your
body" before eating doughnuts...
You might be a Mormon.

If you think Jell-O is one of the basic food groups...
You might be a Mormon

If at least one of your salad bowls is at a neighbor's house...
You might be a Mormon.

If you've ever written a "Dear-John" to more than two
missionaries on the same day....
You might be a Mormon.

If you were frustrated when your son "only" got accepted
to Harvard...
You might be a Mormon.

If you have one kid in diapers and one on a mission...
You might be a Mormon.

If you have never arrived at a meeting on time...
You might be a Mormon.

If you have more wheat stored in your basement than most third world
countries... you might be a Mormon.

If you've already got your order in for volume 50 of "The
Work and The Glory...
You might be a Mormon.

If you think it is all right to watch football on Sundays
as long as a direct descendant of Brigham Young is playing...
You might be a Mormon.

If you have to guess more than five times the name of the
child you're disciplining...
You might be Mormon.

If you automatically assume that BYOB means, Bring Your Own
Burgers...
You might be Mormon.

If you go to a party and someone spikes the punch with Pepsi...
You might be a Mormon.

If you arrive to an activity an hour late and are the first person
there...
You might be a Mormon.