I cannot tell a lie...

So I'm pretty much an idiot I've decided. Now, that may come as a big surprise to some of you, but not so much to others. "Why?" you ask. "What is this idiotic thing you've done Spot?". I've forgotten some things. This really isn't all that unusual of an occurrence for me. I forget things alot. Whether it's because of my age, my fibromyalgia, or my general spaciness I couldn't say. But it is the reason I make notes for myself and write a hundred sticky notes a day so I remember things. But the sad fact is that sometimes I still forget.

So this was going to be a post where I gathered up all the sweet stuff people have awarded me in the last couple of months and do the requirements and pass them out. But...I saved the award pictures, but wasn't smart enough to write down where they came from. Brilliant, huh? So I'm looking at the cute award pics going...??? So I will be doing some hunting and figuring that out and doing that post later this week. But I did receive one over the weekend and since I do remember from whence it came, I'll do it today!

I was quite lucky to have Jimmy over at Just My Opinion, decide that I am honest. Thank you very much Jimmy!! Now, those of you who have been reading this blog for some time, know that my biggest pet peeve is honesty and sincerity, or the lack thereof. I believe honesty is always the best policy. It doesn't have to be brutal, but it does have to be honest. And I pull no punches with this blog. I'm honest with you all, but most of all, I'm honest with myself. So without further ado...



The Rules Are:

1. Thank the person giving you the award.
2. Post a link to their blog.
3. Post the award on your blog.
4. Post 7 tidbits you're readers don't know.
5. Hand it out to ten other bloggers.
6. Post links to their blogs.
7. Post a link letting those bloggers know.

Hmmm...7 tidbits you don't know about me yet? That's a toughie...

1. I've recently started doing freelance writing. I'm not going to get rich anytime soon, but apparently 40 is not too old to start a new career. Especially if it's the one you've always wanted. I have Kathryn to thank for that. She has been a mentor, passing on info, pushing me to get my work out there, and answering zillions of dumb questions about finance stuff, contracts and deadlines. She's an amazing woman who not only believes in "paying it forward", she always does it and encourages others to do the same.

2. I've recently started submitting works of fiction again. Okay, this is the honesty award...I submitted one story to one magazine. I got a lovely rejection email (aren't computers great? You can now be rejected ten times faster!). It made my stomach hurt to submit it (seriously, as soon as I pressed "send", I almost vomited). I haven't submitted since. But I will.

3. I've recently come to the conclusion that I suck at writing movie reviews. Thus the failure of What Spot Saw. They are much harder to write than I thought they'd be. I'm going to delete the blog and just pass along movie info here. I really want to do another blog with some fiction on it.

4. I hate waiting. It makes me horribly insecure. Waiting for a potential employer to get back to me, waiting on a rejection/acceptance letter, waiting on a phone call. Really, I start second guessing, and doubting my abilities until I'm convinced that I'm a failure. I know right? So at odds with my personality.

5. I have 3 tattoos. A really awful one on my back right shoulder of a unicorn on a cliff at sunset. Note to self: NEVER let a man who learned how to tattoo in prison give you a tattoo at your kitchen table. Thankfully, I didn't get hepatitis, but I do have a 'not well done' permanent piece of artwork there. I have a beautiful set of three stars (one for each biological child) on my foot. And the word "mother" in Gaelic~ "mathair" on the inside of my right wrist. They were done at an actual tattoo shop by a wonderful artist. I want at least two more. Seriously, they're addicting.

6. I absolutely adore the ocean even though I live no where near it. I try to visit it at least once a year. I love to swim, but even when I can't, just being near the ocean makes me happy. My dream is to live somewhere on the coast eventually. I'm thinking Maine, because I also love mountains and snow.

7. When I'm really really stressed, I get optic migraines. That means I lose vision in one eye and sometimes it doesn't hurt, but other times it's accompanied by sharp shooting pains in the eye. They are relatively rare, happening only about two to three times a year. I've noticed that only two people stress me out enough to actually cause them...Lu and my mother. Go figure.

Whew! That's done. Can I just tell you how hard that was?? Having done these award things before, I feel like there's not much new to tell. Lu called while I was doing this and I told her I was having trouble and she replied "that's because you tell people everything all the time." She's probably right. I feel like readers who've always read this blog already know everything there is to tell. So I hope I didn't repeat myself or bore you! Now to pass on the fun...

1. Dreamfarm Girl~ her blogs are not only honest, they're inspirational. Her writing, much like her quilting, is spectacular. And the way she can liken life to quilt making is truly exceptional.

2. Unabridged Girl~ Mckenzie is nothing if not honest. She's also a brilliantly talented young writer. I never read her blog, that I'm not amazed by the insight she has for someone under 30. This is one writer that I can't wait to see published. (Note to Mckenzie...I'm totally expecting an autographed copy of your first book...)

3. The Dork Side~ this is a young girl who also tells it like it is. I feel like I've come to know her through reading her posts. I know about her ballroom dancing, her creative crafty side, and her writing inspirations. Plus, she's got an adorable blog design. Get to know her!

4. Buggin Word~ Elly is honest. She's also hilarious. If you think I'm funny, you haven't read Elly. But be warned...there are no taboos on Elly's blog so if you are offended don't come running back, pointing fingers. But if you aren't prudish and like to laugh so hard you nearly pee...go, read Elly.

5. Out Numbered Two to One~ she tells it like it is raising four kids from toddler to teen. Another blog I never fail to giggle at.

6. The Grasshopper Tales~ formerly known as Triplets Plus Two Mommy, is sometimes funny, sometimes poignant. She doesn't hold back and that's why I love her blog.

7. The Nerdy Nomad~ C is always honest in her blogs. Sometimes they are about her life, family or friends. Other times they are beautiful photos with vivid descriptions about her travels. Her blog is never boring!! I didn't even know I how beautiful some of those countries were until I visited them via her blog.

8. The Screenplay~ I'm giving this award to Mark, even though he hasn't been able to blog much lately. Because, he's never held back. He's always given us honest emotion. Many times I've read his posts and cried my eyes out. Both in sympathy for him and his family, but also because he reminds me how blessed I am.

9. Platitude Paradise~ Danica never pulls any punches. She gives it to you straight. I know she's been having a rough time lately and not getting to post much. But when she does, she's honest about what she's going through.

10. Murrmurrs~ I'm new to this lady's blog but from what I've seen, she's as honest as they come. And funny too. I've only been reading her blog a short time, but she's down to earth and makes me giggle.

That was soooo hard! There are many more blogs I could pass this too, but most of them already have it and I think that giving it to people who don't gets them some attention they deserve. I also didn't give it to people who don't play. It seems silly to pass it on if the other person won't do the same. I hope nobody got their feelings hurt, because if I read your blog and comment, than you should know that I think you're honest. Simple as that.

Happy Tuesday!
♥Spot

Weekend fun and how Lu isn't cool.

So it's Monday. Again. What is it about Mondays?? But it's okay, because I'm actually making today my Sunday. I had a way busy weekend and of course that means I'm exhausted and my muscles are screaming so I'm taking today easy. Too bad for the rest of my family, who actually have things to do. Why was I busy this weekend? Well...here's my facebook status from Saturday as a hint~

"I'm off to see the wizard! Or at least spend time with my family, which is kind of like 'not being in Kansas anymore Toto' and there is a wicked witch. So yeah, it's basically the same."

Hildi had driven in from Ohio on Friday and Saturday she and my parents came down to see my Grandma. So we all congregated at the nursing home. Sean had gone in with me. Now, I may have mentioned before that my mom is not always a nice person. In fact, she's often bitter and hard to be around. By the time Sean and I made it to the nursing home, my sister was about to climb the walls. She has a much harder time dealing with mom than I do. So after about an hour of sitting around Grandma's room, trying to talk to her (she's very hard of hearing and refuses to wear a hearing aid, thus making us practically scream at her), my mom suggests she take Grandma for a walk (Grandma was in her wheelchair) and she tells Hildi to come with her. I pat Hildi's back in sympathy, but she turns around at the door and flips the rest of us off. We giggle. A few minutes after that, my uncle shows up, he sits with us for a few, but then he decides he can't handle sitting there. (Grandma's roommate at the home is a barely conscious woman who makes these horrible noises when she breathes. Seriously, I wonder every time if it's her last breath). So he sets off to find the others. Well, five minutes later, Hildi comes running into the room. That wheelchair was flying!

Me: What the heck?! Are you and Grandma playing NASCAR?

Hildi: (panting a little) No! I was trying to get away from Mom & Uncle! I thought if I got far enough ahead, no one would realize we were with them!

Me: (giggling) what are they doing now?

Hildi: Spreading the hate. Talking loudly (neither of them has an 'inside voice') about other races.

Poor Hildi! Later, it's just Mom, Sean, Grandma & I sitting around.

Grandma: Do you ever just forget what you're going to say?

Me: Actually, sometimes I do!

Grandma: I seem to forget everything anymore. Somedays I forget where I am.

Sean: I know two other people just like that.

My Mom gave him the stinkeye until he said~

Sean: Uh. I didn't mean you Grandma...

I ended up staying the night at the hotel with them. Hildi didn't want to stay in her room by herself. We went to breakfast the next morning and it was kind of strange to be just the four of us again. Mom, Dad, Hildi & me. I'm so glad that Hildi's fam is coming for Easter next week!

So, I'm going to leave you with a conversation between Lu and myself from Thursday. She was lovely enough to get up that day and clean most of the house. Of course she left me the heinous bits, like the bathrooms and refrigerator. As she was dusting the family room, and I was at the computer~

Me: I need to buy some nose bones. I really want this nose ring out.

Lu: What did you call them?

Me: Nose bones. You know, the straight ones.

Lu: That's what I thought you meant. Is that what they're called?

Me: Duh. Haven't you heard them called that at FADZ (our piercing place).

Lu: Yeah, but I thought maybe they made that up. You know, like your Canadian friends and "stabby".

Me: Ugh! Would you get off of it! They actually say "stabby" in Canada. Like when I say "I'm going to get stabby on you". So really, it's like I'm speaking another language and you should be impressed.

Lu: I'm not. I hate it when you say that. "Stabby" is not a word.

Me: Would you please stop taking the fact that you aren't cool out on me?

Lu: That's right Mom, I'm not cool. I'm just a loser.

Me: I did not say you were a loser. You just aren't urban hip like me. It's okay, I still like you.

Lu: Well, that makes my day right there.

Me: You're welcome!

I hope everyone survives Monday. ;]

♥Spot

M

Eek! More Aliens!

So after two people mentioned it in their comments, and my Dad told me about it on the phone, Lu rented "The Fourth Kind" on DVD for us last night. She, Sean & I stayed up past my bedtime late last night to watch it. The phone call with my Dad had gone something like this~

Dad: So you really don't want to move to Alaska.

Me: Oh but I do! Because Sean and I watched this program on Animal Planet called "Killer Aliens" and it's all about the exotic pets that people are having shipped in and then they get loose or people just set them free. And they are destroying Florida's natural ecosystem. Did you know they actually have a bounty on Burmese pythons?? And they have a monitor lizard problem. I am absolutely not getting eaten by something like that. So it's a move to the frozen north for me!

Dad: *laughing at me* But not to Alaska. There's bad shit there. There's a movie you need to see.

Me: You mean "30 Days of Night"?! Best vampire movie ever! But I'm not moving to Barrow, so it's cool.

Dad: Well you don't want to move to Nome either! I was talking about "The Fourth Kind".

Me: Oh!! Did you see that? Sean and I have been wanting to see it forever! Was it good?!

Dad: I thought it was. Very creepy. Your mom fell asleep (no surprise there). Did you know the FBI has visited there over 2000 times since the 60's?

Me: Wow. That's creepy. Sean and I were just discussing aliens & anal probes the other day.

Dad: Why doesn't this surprise me?

Me: Because you know us?? Anyway, it's cool. I've decided to move to Maine. I've decided I can handle creepy killer clowns and black bears.

Then last night, we were watching the movie, and it is very good! Kind of hard to get used to at first, because they incorporated actual audio and video from the true story. That's right peeps, this is a true story. Which makes it even freakier. Anyway, several people claim to have seen a white owl outside their window. So they show a very creepy white owl. And~



Me: Maybe it's not aliens. That owl looks like a demon to me. Look look! It's head is spinning. Definitely a demon!

Lu: Owls can turn their heads all the way around.

Me: Um. Duh. Because they're demons! OMG! Has no one but me made this correlation?? You're welcome people. Problem solved. Owls are demons in disguise.

So now I'm afraid of owls. Fabulous. And alien abduction. Lu actually asked to sleep with me. When I pointed out that it wouldn't matter, they seem to take people out of bed even when someone is sleeping right next to them, we decided to leave the outside lights on instead. Although, my real plan was that if the aliens came I'd tell them to take hubby. It's not like he'd even wake up anyway. And his short term memory is pretty shot, so I doubt he'd even know on any level that the abduction happened. And besides, he deserves it for this conversation before we watched the movie~

Me: I'm totally going to wake up with butt pain and think the aliens got me.

Sean: Why the H would you wake up with butt pain?? Who does that?

Me: Um. Me. Duh. Fibromyalgia. I have weird pains all the time. It's why I take muscle relaxers.

Hubby: (passing through on his way to bed) Yeah, but don't worry, the butt pain is not aliens, it's just me.

Me: Eeeew! Did you really just say that?? You freak.

Lu: Wow Mom, those muscle relaxers must really knock you out.

Sean: But there's some muscles even they can't relax!

Anyway, see the movie. It's creepy good. And you might want to learn ancient sumerarian. You know, just in case. Have a good weekend! Watch out for aliens and owls! You know I will!

♥Spot

Aliens & anal probes = reality TV

Thank you all so much for your "get-well" wishes and your prayers for my Grandmother. I'm finally fever free so I'm going to visit her at the hospital today. We should get the results of the needle biopsy of her liver and have a more informative prognosis.

So, the last few posts have been distinctly "un"funny. But as those of you who've been reading this blog for awhile know, things are rarely serious for long at our house. It's just not how we roll. So for today, here's a conversation Sean and I had while watching a program on alien sightings~

Sean: Why are people always claiming that aliens anal-probed them? Seriously, do you think aliens would be that fascinated with our butts? They have the technology to build spaceships and travel through the galaxy and the best their medical team can come up with is an anal-probe? I think not.

Me: Well it's a little known fact that aliens don't have butts. That's why they want to study ours.

Sean: The hell?! Why would you think aliens don't have butts?

Me: Have you seen the drawings people do of aliens? Have you ever once seen one with a butt?? And not once in any sci-fi movie have you ever heard "There's definitely alien life on this planet!", "Why's that Bob?", "Because I just stepped in a big pile of alien sh*t!". Nope. Not once. Therefore, one can only can conclude that they don't have butts.

Sean: That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard.

Me: Really?! The most ludicrous thing you've ever heard?

Sean: Okay. Not the most. But it ranks right up there.

Me: Maybe they do the anal probe because they think it's the fastest way to our brains. I mean, if I was intelligent life watching this planet, I'd definitely think most people have their heads up their butts.

Sean: Now see, that theory makes sense. Or...maybe they're micro chipping us.

Me: Ooohh! You mean like they do dogs?

Sean: Exactly. Or like the way Ducks Unlimited bands ducks. They're tracking our migratory patterns.

Me: Maybe we're just like pets to them. Or maybe we're just one super reality TV show.

So what's your theory?
♥Spot

And sometimes bad things happen...

So this last week has been rough. I say rough instead of sucked the proverbial monkey balls because things could have been worse. The feeling at my house is "if the police didn't come and nobody died" it really wasn't that bad. Being sick has sucked but it's not that unusual for me. I wasn't life or death sick, just sick enough to be listless and irritable. Then on Thursday, Sean had an accident on his way to his Civil Air Patrol meeting.

It's an hour's drive from our house to where the meetings are held. He stops in the town half an hour away to either meet or ride with his friends. Sometimes the one guys dad drives, or the guy drives, sometimes Sean drives. Well, this time Sean was driving. And he was driving my car because it gets better gas mileage than his truck. The exit he takes comes down into a double left turn lane. He pulled into the farthest left lane and stopped at the light. A semi driver, with a double trailer, pulled into the lane next to him. He was on his cell phone. The semi driver changed lanes in the middle of the intersection. Sean managed to slow, but was forced into oncoming traffic. Luckily, he didn't collide with the oncoming traffic. However, the last set of tires on the last trailer of the semi clipped the front of my car. The semi driver did not even get out of his cab or get off his phone. He yelled and asked if Sean and the other boy were alright. Then he drove off!! It being Sean's first accident, he wasn't thinking clearly enough to get the guys license plate number or name of the trucking company. Or insist that they call the police. But luckily, he and his friend were unharmed and the car is driveable. There is some body damage though. But all in all, it could have been way worse. And the damage to my kid would have been far worse than any damage to my vehicle.

The second bit of not-good-ness happened Sunday/Monday. Sean has been my company/getter of everything I need while I've been ill. He's watched a massive amount of weird TV shows with me. Made many many glasses of something to drink. Fetched everything from my book, to tissues, to my favorite blanket. He started coughing Sunday. At first, I thought it was just his asthma acting up because he forgot to get one of his meds refilled. Yesterday, he woke up with a fever and a headache and a worse cough. Did I mention he gets pneumonia at least as often as I do? Luckily, because I went to the doctor already (oh yeah, the dr. says I have pneumonia, color me surprised!) and because of his history with it, they just went ahead and called his meds in so we don't have to go back. So now we're sickies together. Talk about your quality time...it's a wonder we haven't killed each other yet...

But all of this is small beans compared to what comes next. On Friday night I got a call from my aunt. She said that grandma had been admitted to the hospital because her red blood count was low and they were giving her transfusions. She gave me some values for the count but that was really all she knew. She hadn't been able to get ahold of my folks. So I said I would call them. They were at Hildi's in Ohio. I called and talked to my dad. I said that the values she gave me didn't make sense for your red blood count (I'm familiar with blood count values thanks to Lu's disorder). But my aunt has untreated fibromyalgia and can be a little spacey. My mom called my uncle, but well, mom can be kind of spacey too and all she got out of the conversation was that grandma was in stable condition. The next morning I called my SIL, who's an RN. She said that they must mean her hemoglobin was low and yes, they would transfuse at that value. Now the doctors would have to find out where she was losing the blood from or what was causing the drop. Grandma had been diagnosed with chronic leukemia several months ago and so we thought maybe it had to do with that. My SIL gave me strict orders not to visit the hospital with my pneumonia and if I was running a temp bc my grandma's immunity is shot. So I stayed home.

My folks hightailed it home from Hildi's on Saturday. They said they would be at the hospital on Sunday. I asked them to call me from there and let me know what was up. I was still running a fever. All I got Sunday was a text from my mom saying that grandma looked pretty much the same as she had been and they didn't have any new info. I relaxed. Yesterday, Hildi texted me and asked if I knew where the heck Mom & Dad were. She'd called their house and gotten no answer and they weren't answering their phones. None of that is unusual. I said no, but I was a little miffed that I couldn't get a phone call from them the day before while they were at the hospital. She said she'd requested one as well. She didn't even get the text. We were texting back and forth when she stopped texting. Again, not unusual because she has small children. Then the phone rang and I saw my Dad's cell number. I thought he was calling to check on me. (Selfish, no?) But the tone of my Dad's voice put me on instant alert. They were at the hospital. They'd found tumors in my grandmother's pancreas, gallbladder and liver. She is not a candidate for surgery due to health concerns. They are doing a liver biopsy (needle) today to be absolutely certain, but they are 95% sure the type and aggressiveness of the cancer. The recommendation is hospice care. No prolonging measures. The prognosis is for weeks, maybe months. But the goal is only to make her comfortable and pain free.

This is my mother's mother. My father's mother passed away when I was thirteen. Breast cancer. But my father and mother have been married for 43 years. He loves my grandmother like he did his own. He was in tears. I've only seen my big strong Daddy cry twice. Once, when his mother died. And the night my sister got married. (Of course, he was way drunk then). I cried too. My grandmother and I have been very close. I was the first grandchild. But I immediately asked if he talked to Hildi yet. He had. But she was home alone with the kids, her hubby at work. I called her immediately. She was doing okay. She'd called her hubby and he came home from work. The girls were patting her back and stroking her hair. But she was frantically trying to figure out whether she should come right away or wait. And if she came, how would she manage it. Her oldest daughter can't miss any more school. What would she do with the youngest if she brought her? We figured most of it out, but she's waiting for the needle biopsy results that we'll have on Wednesday to make a final decision. My father implored me to stay home one more day and give my meds time to work. So I won't be going to the hospital until tomorrow.

The only bright spot in all of this, is that my grandma has dementia. She's not really lucid a lot of the time and I have to think this is a blessing. She doesn't comprehend that she's got cancer. She continually asks why she's in the hospital. And so she doesn't know what she's in for. I can't help that think that's a good thing. You can't fear the reaper if you don't know he's coming.

I'm sorry this has been such a downer post. But it's been a downer week...

♥Spot

Happy *cough cough* Spring???

First, have I told you peeps how much you mean to mean?? Well consider yourself hugged. And notified. So many get well wishes! And funny comments. And Elly's outrageous comment. Those made me laugh so hard I'm gasping for air. Which is why I kept ineffectually punching Sean in the leg yesterday. Because he'd make me laugh. And then I'd try to sock him one while going "*cough cough* Stop *cough* making me *cough* laugh! *cough cough* I can't *cough* breathe!". So yeah, I'm still sick. Okay Angelia, I hear what you're thinking girl. You sound just like my sister Hildi. "Go to the damn doctor". Um...it's Sunday. So that means I either fight the ER waiting room/docs or go tomorrow to see my doctor. And the ER docs? Not so bright. I've had pneumonia at least once and sometimes twice every winter for the last 20 years. I've been hospitalized for it 6 times and once I had to go to the doctors every day to get IVs, because I begged him not to put me in the hospital (the children were toddlers and I didn't want to leave them). These last few years I end up in the hospital because I've managed to develop allergies to all but a handful of oral antibiotics. So if those don't work, I'm stuck in there on IVs. I hate that.

In those years, I've grown to know my foe. I know how he feels in my lungs. I know how he sounds. I'm pretty sure I can pinpoint the exact moment that his little friends invaded my chest. (Of course it was the middle of the night and I had a fever, so I could just have been trippin). I also know roughly how sick I have to be for the ER doc to get the diagnosis right. If I go to soon he diagnoses a sinus infection, a respiratory virus, the flu, a bladder infection (no joke. true story), an allergic reaction. Three days later, I'm in the hospital because I have pneumonia but the doctor didn't listen. He didn't hear any rales in my chest (because it solidifies in my lungs and you can't hear anything). Did you know that chest x-rays actually lag behind two days?? That the picture they get of your chest is how it looked two days ago. Weird huh? The crazy shit you learn in the hospital!!

So, even though Hildi's yelling. And Lu and Sean are saying, "c'mon mom, let us take you in". My hubby, says "you're mother's right. she's been through this before. She'll know when to go". It's a sad fact. So until then, I'm laying on the couch, watching really weird TV shows and Sean is my caretaker while the others work. He's damn good at his job. Except for not leaving me alone. (Stop watching me sleep kid, you're creeping me out. I promise to keep breathing.) And trying to make me eat. Pneumonia makes me not hungry. (It's the only thing that ever does!!)

So keep your fingers crossed that tomorrow the doctor says "wow. you have pneumonia" and gives me the kick ass drugs so I can get off the damn couch!! Although, I'm not sure why I want to. This is what spring is looking like at my house~





Those are pics Sean snapped for me yesterday. It snowed all day long. We ended up with about 3 inches. (Another reason I didn't want to go to town yesterday). Spring, wherefore art thou??!

♥Spot

I'm pretty sure I'm not making alot of sense...

Gah!! My husband just brought one of his bosses into my house to use the bathroom!!! I may in fact die of mortification now. Because, I'm sick. And so my already-needed-to-be-cleaned-desperately-house looks like a tornado hit it. Because that's what happens when I'm sick. No one cleans up. To give Lu credit, she's been working 8 hour days and Dexter is here so cleaning the house has not been high on her priority list. Also, they left yesterday to go to his folks house for the night. Sean also hasn't been feeling well, but he will run the vacuum if I beg. And hubby? Well, let's just say he's so busy with work that he left me for two hours with a 102 degree fever and didn't check on me. Although, right before that he did bring me a fountain coke.

So I guess if the fever doesn't kill me, the embarrassment will. I hate for people to see my house when it's dirty. It makes me feel like a failure (and I'm pretty sure in Martha Stewart's book I get no gold star today). I know, you're thinking "Spot, your house doesn't have to be clean". But it does. I feel better when it is. I hate cleaning, but I love a clean house. The way it smells. The way it feels. (Happier and well loved). And I know that the feminists are going to get me but it's my job. Now that I don't work outside the home, taking care of the house is my job. It's only fair, since hubby works outside the home and supports us. I know that's uber traditional thinking but it's how I was raised and it's what I believe. But that doesn't mean I don't take help when I can get it!!

Anyway, Lu just texted and said that they were coming home right after the memorial service they had to attend and she would marshal the boys into cleaning up the house. Bless her little organizing soul. I'm saved. So after rambling here, and leaving several inane and rambling comments on other's blogs, I'm going back to bed. I have to keep that infection in my head and not let it escape to my chest!! (Because then I end up in the hospital). So happy Friday!! And hopefully, I will be well by Monday, and funnier...and make more sense....

♥Spot

May your troubles be less, may your blessings be more...

My eye is still trying to migrate somewhere south of it's socket. I think I've got enough mucous in my head to lube a small engine. And my throat is a flaming barren desert. And when one of my family asks me a question I kind of just want to curl up in a ball and cry. Welcome to day two of "the sinus siege". I'm not sure who my opponent is but he's going down (I hope).

Hopped up on cold meds I did manage to get my corned beef & cabbage cooked yesterday. And I made Irish soda bread. Not the fake kind with raisins and sugar. (hello, they didn't have raisins in Ireland when they started making soda bread). And dinner was Delicious. I even had a Killian's. And kicked ass at one game of Wii bowling. Then I went back to bed.

My Dad's side of the family has always been proud of it's Irish heritage. My maiden name was Day but we found that it used to be O'Day. My parents always said if they had a boy they would name him Sean Patrick. But since I don't have any brothers, I stole the name for my son. Hildi has what people call the "Irish look". Her hair is auburn, fair skin and blue eyes. But whether that's from my dad's Irish side or my mother's scotch ancestors, who can say? But Lu definitely gets her looks from there as well.


Hildi and Lu

I've been told I have the look of the "black Irish" (and no, that's not a racial slur), they have dark hair, dark eyes and fewer freckles. I don't really know whether that's true or whether my coloring come from the American Indian ancestors. At any rate, our Irish ancestry was always a source of pride. And now that Lu has found herself an Irish boy to marry, I guess it will carry on.


Dexter & Lu. Last name Flanagan. Won't my grandkids be adorable?!

One day while we were in Myrtle Beach, shopping at the outlet mall, we decided to get lunch. We ordered and as the cashier was ringing us up, she asked "Are you guys Irish?" Huh?! I'd never been asked that before. I'd been asked if I was Italian. I'd been asked if I was Latino. What would have made her think 'Irish'? Maybe it was Lu's reddish hair and blue eyes? Maybe it was our wrist tattoos? (because everyone recognizes Gaelic, right?) So I said "well, yes, we are". Turns out it was our rings. I wear a claddaugh ring on my left hand instead of my wedding set sometimes. And Lu's pre-engagement ring is a claddaugh. Hildi's wedding ring is a claddaugh. The cashier said she'd done a paper on claddaugh rings for a class. They are a traditional Irish wedding ring dating back from the 17th century. For love we wear the heart, for friendship we wear the hands, and for loyalty and lasting fidelity we wear the crown. I'm even getting a new one in honor of our twentieth anniversary. I just haven't been shopping yet!

I hope that everyone enjoyed their green beer last night. Or their corned beef and cabbage. Or however it is you celebrate St. Patrick's Day. We sure showed the wearing o'the green. And well, around my house, there's plenty of blarney every single day. I hope you all had a Beannachtam na Feile Padraig!

A traditional Irish blessing for you:




♥Spot

My Irish Eyes are NOT Smilin'...

So it's St. Paddy's Day! And normally, I would be way happy today. Because I love this holiday. But today? Not so much. I finally caught the cold that's been running around my house for the last 3 weeks. Remember the one that had hubby sniffling non-stop? Well Sean and I are both sneezing our heads off today. And when I woke up, I was pretty sure my right eye was trying to forcibly leave my head. It feels as though it might pop out at any second. So I stumbled to the kitchen, holding my hand over the side of my face (I mean, I can't just let my eye leave, without a fight). Hubby asked if I was alright and I said "um. No. I'm currently at war with the right side of my head. Give me your hand." I placed his hand firmly on that side. And he said "The whole side of your face is throbbing." and made a disgusted face. Yes, even my teeth hurt.

Why Universe, why??! One day a year I make corned beef and cabbage and I had to get sick today?? I loooovvveee Corned beef and cabbage. And Guinness. Universe? You suck. So I'm probably going back to bed soon. But hopefully my head will stop trying to detach itself and run from my neck so I can get my Irish on.

I was going to tell you an a funny story about my fam being Irish. It'll hold til tomorrow. I gotta go lay down...

sniffles & sinus headaches,
♥Spot

Respect. Or the lack thereof...

Respect. It's a funny thing isn't it? Except when you're not getting any. Is it just me or is today's generation even more disrespectful than usual? I mean on the whole. It seems to me that every generation thinks it re-invented the wheel, but this one thinks it invented everything. Okay, this isn't really meant to be a rant, just a frank discussion about the nature of respect.

I taught my children to be respectful of other people. Not just older people, but all people. At least I tried. My children (especially Sean) seem to have scarily accurate bullshit detectors and if you're feeding them crap, you're gonna get served right back to you with garnish. And that I'm fine with. And I know certain people *cough cough* my folks *cough* would say that my kids are disrespectful to me. And looking at Sean & I's argument from yesterday's blog, I can see how that might be thought. But the difference is that Sean and I were playing. And when we're playing, trash talking, blowing each other crap it's cool for him to talk to me like that. But they all know the difference. They know if they disrespect out of anger or when we're having a serious discussion that there will be hell to pay. My own private little brand of hell. Lol.

So what's prompting this discussion? Three incidents from the last few weeks have brought it into focus. The first happened a couple of weeks ago. Lu and the hippie, who will now be called Dexter, went to a wedding of one of his friends in his hometown. Since they would be out late they stayed the night as his parents house. It was a Saturday night. The next morning, his dad attempted to rouse Dexter and his sister for church. They are catholic. Dexter doesn't live at home and doesn't go to church. His sister is younger and still lives at home. His father and mother went to church alone, but were quite upset about it. After church an argument ensued and I gather harsh words were spoken. The culmination was his father declaring "if you sleep here on a Saturday night, you go to church on Sunday." When Lu and I discussed it later, I told her well if they wanted to avoid church not to stay on Saturday. And while I would never try to force religion on someone, it was obvious his father had strong feelings on the subject and since it was his house he had every right to make that a rule. That if you are accepting someone's hospitality then you had to follow their rules. If they're paying for everything and welcoming you into their home than respect that hospitality and play by the rules.

The second incident happened last weekend. Now I have a half bath off the master bedroom which has a toilet and a sink. It is MY bathroom. It is the only female bastion in my entire house. The one place that boys are not allowed. Oh, they can come in to get Q-tips, borrow toothpaste, ect., but they are absolutely forbidden to potty in there. We have two other toilets in the house (that I don't use). The only exception is CJ and I'm not gonna try to stop him from using it if it's closest, that would be a recipe for disaster. Nobody but me cleans my bathroom so what I say goes. My guys are very good about adhering to this rule. Lu, of course, has bathroom privileges there. So last weekend, Dexter was down (as he is every weekend) and Lu was getting ready to go to work. Dexter got up to take her to work since they were seeing a movie after she got off. Lu was in my bathroom brushing her teeth. I saw Dexter go into the bathroom and then I heard the clink of the toilet lid/seat against the tank. I hollered "he better not be using my toilet!!" and Lu said that he had come in to brush his teeth. Well, then I heard it. The unmistakable sound of guy pee. I was pissed. As soon as the toilet flushed I descended like a banshee (and seeing as how it was morning, I may have looked like one). "WTF Lu??!! WTF?!" To which she responded "I told him to stop!! He said it was too late". I then explained to Dexter that he had won himself the job of cleaning that toilet. And he agreed to do the job. They left and he didn't come back for hours. He said he was scared to return. (I'm apparently very scary. Or he just knows I get stabby sometimes.) Turns out he'd seen hubby and several of our guy friends in town. He explained his transgression and the replies were~

Hubby: well you must not have taken a dump because your head is still attached to your body! She'll kill you for that.

C: What? You guys have a third bathroom? I've never even seen it!

E: Stacey's freakin scary. Never piss her off when she's cooking and has a wooden spoon in her hand either. I almost cried and she wasn't even yelling at me.

HA! See, I teach respect. Or fear. Or well, a healthy dose of both. Dexter later told Lu that I had given him "that look" and that's why he was scared. At dinner the other night I asked him exactly what look I'd given him and one of the other boys said "well I wasn't there, but I'm gonna guess it's the same look you're giving him now." Anyway, I explained that it tied in with the "respecting hospitality" rule. The guys might think it's a silly rule, but it's my house, so it's my rules. He swears he didn't know, Lu swears he did. But I'm damn sure he won't use that bathroom again.

The third incident was that I got sucked into an argument with a teenager on FB. I know, not well done of me, but he pushed my buttons. It started with a comment on one of the guys we know's status. It said "Into the Wild read it". And Dexter commented "or watch it. definitely." Have you seen it?? This movie was so boring, two hours of my life I will never get back. So I commented "No way. Ten hours of my life down the drain." which was an obvious joke, because the movie is not ten hours long. Well this teenager comes back about how I must not of grasped the concept and be all about materialism. Scuse me??! You don't even know me! I responded that I got the concept, I just thought it had been done better and that he shouldn't attack people he didn't know. And that we could continue the discussion in twenty years when he had some life experience. To which he replied that I lived in small town, what did I know? So I told him I hadn't lived there all my life, I was well travelled, had he ever been out of the Midwest?? And he asked who made me the supreme being? I replied with a "what? you didn't get the memo??" and told him that I could respect his enthusiasm for his opinion if not his technique of arguing and called a truce. To which he readily agreed and admitted he was out of ammo. So it ended well. But he's not the first teenager I've talked to that thinks their generation invented a disdain for material possessions and a laid back attitude and desire to return to nature. Ever heard of the sixties, dude?? What about Henry David Thoreau? I mean really? It's all been done before kids. You're not that original.

You all know I respect the non-conformist. But if you're just conforming to your idea of a non-conformist doesn't that just make you a cheerio of a different brand? You may look different from the regular cheerios, but deep down you're made of the same stuff. You are NOT a fruit loop. I guess what bothers me most is that their disdain for materialism is not really born out of a desire to reform society's ills, but out of their own laziness. "I'm not going to get a job because I'd rather lay around all day and contemplate the fur in my belly button, but I'm going to claim it's because I don't need any of the creature comforts. However, when mom & dad are footing the bills, I really like food in the fridge, cable TV, and a comfy bed". The hell, kids?? The hell?? Get a job, you wanna be hippie slacker!!

Hmmm...I seem to have gone off on a tangent. Sorry bout that. But the original idea is still there. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. And what it means to me. What do you think?? Seriously, I want to know....

deep thoughts for a Tuesday,
♥Spot

Breakfast should be "self-serve"

Sean and I were arguing this morning. Well, not arguing really, because our arguing involves raised voices and glares. So let's just say we were "discussing vigorously". Discussing what, you might ask. Breakfast of course, and who's turn it was to make it. You see we have this kind of loose agreement to trade days with the breakfast making. I say loose because sometimes we observe it and sometimes we don't. And sometimes we get lucky and someone else throws breakfast our way. So he came into the family room at 10 am this morning and announced~

Sean: Do you know why I'm here?

Me: To find out what I'm making for breakfast?

Sean: Bingo.

Me: Nothing. Can't we just have cereal this morning?

Sean: Sure, if you make it.

Me: You seriously want me to get up and go to the kitchen and pour your cereal and milk into a bowl for you? You were just in the kitchen!

Sean: yes, but now I'm in here. And it's your turn.

Me: You're ridiculous.

Sean: That's how the arrangement works. I made you breakfast yesterday.

Me: Um. Yes, because I'm actually doing something in the mornings. I thought we agreed Sunday was everyone for themselves anyway??

Sean: No. We did not. You tried to get me to agree to that.

Me: Well I'm not doing it today. I don't know why breakfast isn't your job anyway. I make you lunch and dinner everyday.

Sean: Yes, because you're the mom. It's your job. I'm cutting you slack with breakfast.

Me: Do you know how many mothers make their 16 yr olds breakfast, lunch and dinner? Oh wait...NONE.

Sean: Of course they do...you've seen "Wife Swap". Some of those mothers wait on their kids hand and foot.

Me: Um. Yes. But then the other mother comes in and says how ridiculous that is! C'mon, I'm waiting for you to come up with some nugget of brilliance to convince me that I should do this.

Sean: Nugget of brilliance?? You still wouldn't give in.

Me: I might. I respect the brilliance. I just think you should use it for good instead of being so self serving.

Sean: But I'm not "self serving", that's the whole reason we're having this argument. I can't even argue with you if you're going to be like this. Try to stay focused next time. *and he leaves. And I'm still giggling*

Oh and btw, I totally caved to peer pressure...I started to Twitter. Please find me on there so I can follow you. I put a link in the sidebar. Because it's easier to stalk you that way...

Have a restful Sunday,
♥Spot

And the culprit was...

So yesterday? Not my best day. Couldn't figure out the funk. Couldn't figure out why I kept bursting into tears over nothing. Couldn't blame hormones, wrong week. My family? Not really behaving any worse than usual. The weather? Yucky, but hell, I like rain. So I did what I said I was going to do. I shut off the computer. Made my bed, took a shower, got a sandwich and a soda and settled on my couch. I texted Hildi because I knew she'd cheer me up or at least agree with me that life just doesn't live up to your expectations some days. Then I watched some twilight zone. And then I feel asleep. When I woke up, I figured it out. Fever and a sore throat and a headache. Me coming down with something = blue funk. Me with a fever = tears.

As I've said before, I have a wacked out weird body and fibromyalgia. Both my sister and I have normally low body temperatures. So by the time I have what the doctors consider a fever (100+), I've feeling the effects of a higher fever. And for some reason, they always make me cry. Hildi and Lu are the same way. So I took some ibuprofen and curled back up on the couch and watched a totally ridiculous movie on Lifetime about this little girl who was reincarnated from a murder victim. The idea was actually good, the acting, plot, dialogue, not so much. Then Sean came in and said he had a really bad headache and his arm rash itched. I blamed my illness on him. He felt so bad for me that he made his own lunch. (I know! Shocking, right?!)

Hubby stuck his head in the door and checked on me. Then he actually brought clothes up from the dryer (of course, he didn't fold or put away, but I can't ask for miracles), put the ones from the washer in the dryer, and started a load with the muddy clothes he'd just taken off. Will wonders never cease???! Maybe I should cry more often?! After the movie, I got up and made supper. Sean had actually asked for fish sticks, box mac-n-cheese & peas. I know. I'm still scratching my head over that one too. But both my children told me last grocery list that they missed the foods from their younger years (fish sticks, pigs-n-blankets, chicken nuggets). I stared at them. I cook from scratch nearly every night and these are the things they want?? So every so often I've been working a "young & poor" meal into the menu. Weirdos.

After watching a movie on TV with the fam, I headed off to my room. Got on my pj's and settled onto my bed with the files of my fiction work from my file cabinet. I wanted to see how many completed stories I had, how many needed editing, how many were ready for submission. I ended up reading my old rejection letters. (Yes, I kept them. Apparently I'm a masochist. Who knew??) But as I read through them, and out loud to Sean, who'd come into my room to talk, I realized they weren't totally rejection slips. Many of them had said I had talent and even though they couldn't use that story to keep submitting. One editor even took the time to edit the first half of a story and show me my mistakes. And tell me to resubmit after corrections. Unfortunately, the editor had a death in the family and the anthology never got published. But I was this close. And it renewed my ambition.

Then Sean left and I started watching a really bad movie on the Chiller channel. But Lu's hippie had arrived, along with a friend of his (and ours) and they plus Lu piled into the room. (Are we beginning to see how Spot has no privacy? I mean these kids are in my bedroom.) We all talked for about an hour until hubby came in and announced he was going to sleep and kicked them out.

Today, I still have a stupid sore throat. And a headache. But I'm keeping the fever at bay so no tears. And I feel better, indeed. Mentally anyway. Which is the most important part. I'm psyched again about my writing. And life is good...

Have a fantastic Saturday,
♥Spot

Even Spot gets "the blues" as my Grandpa used to say...

Yeah. That's pretty much me today. I can't figure it out. I have every reason to have motivation. I just can't dredge any up. I've been sitting here for 3 hours now and I can't believe that I haven't accomplished more. But no, I've answered some emails, commented on a few FB statuses, read and commented some blogs, checked out some recent blogs of note (for real, blogger?? for real??) and contemplated my universe. And yet, I remain absolutely uninspired. The hell, me??! The hell?!

Maybe it's the muddy, grey, wet mess that is my little corner of the world currently. The sky is grey, the trees have yet to bud, and everything is a non-solid, squishy, muddy mess. Yuck.

My house is a disaster. Well, okay, at first glance it's only slightly messy. But I know it needs a good deep down cleaning. And that my fur babies are not helping. In fact, I'm pretty sure that there's at least one large ball of cat fur on the basement stairs that is in fact very close to taking on a life of it's own. And yet, my repeated pleas to Sean to sweep the basement (his room) and the stairs go unanswered. And frankly, I lack the energy to yell.

I've come to realize in the past few days that my family seems to think "my" time is "their" time. And I'm supposed to be available 24/7. But the time they spend with me should be scheduled at their convenience. Case in point, I was watching a movie last night (yes, it was a totally ridiculous SyFy movie that not only made no sense and lacked a cohesive plot, but the acting was well practically non-existent. But that my friends, is not the point!) and Lu came home from work. She'd had dinner with her cousin and her friend after work and felt the need to tell me all about it. She complained that of course both the other girls said they weren't hungry and then proceeded to eat half of Lu's plate of nachos. (She'd gotten that order because she knew they would). She said they were loads of fun and tons of laughs, but... And here I supplied what she was thinking... irresponsible? party girls? silly? and then I resisted the "told you so". Then I was regaled with the entirety of her day at work. By this time, my movie had ended. I have no idea what took place the last half hour. She asked what I was going to do and I said I needed to go back online and do some more work. She said "but I'm home. Can't you spend time with me?" I told her didn't I just spend time listening to her tell her stories even though I'd actually been watching that movie? And why was our spending time always at her convenience? She completely didn't get it.

But on the flip side, I do understand and fully appreciate my blessings. I have teenagers who want to talk to me. Okay, so it cuts into my work time, my reading time, my tv viewing time, my sleeping time. But I can do all those things when they move away. I should just be grateful, that unlike a lot of teenagers, they like to spend time with me, and I know what's going on in their lives.

I'm also blessed in that we are not currently in a bad financial situation. Don't get me wrong, we aren't rich or even middle class. We're still the working poor, but it has finally come to the point where I have enough for all the bills and a pittance left over. Which is better than the paycheck to paycheck, who gets paid this month lottery we used to play. We have working vehicles, access to medical care, plenty of food and a house. I know that puts us in a better position than many people these days.

I'm blessed that I get to do what I like to do, IE: write. No, I'm not currently making more than $5 a month at it, but I still get to do it. I may never make a living at it, but for now, just the fact that I'm doing it makes me happy.

I'm blessed that even though my husband is a workaholic who frequently drives me crazy, he loves me. And I love him. And we can manage to spend time together without bloodshed. And he gets up early and makes me coffee. Everyday.

I'm blessed that I have such wonderful friends, both in real life and blogland. That support me and encourage me.

I'm blessed that I have fabulous people in my family (even if they sometimes drive me crazy also) who return my love and support. I'm blessed that my kids are turning out well.

Let's face it. My life is pretty damn good currently. I don't know what this funk is about. Listing my blessings has helped. I do feel better. But I think I'm turning the computer off now and taking a mental health day. I'll hole up on the couch with a silly movie or good book and lose myself in them. (Oh, and there will probably be chocolate involved as well) And that way, I can come back tomorrow and make you laugh.

Have a good weekend,
♥Spot

For the love of Bob, make your own damn dinner!!

So, last night I got an email from Kathryn at From The Inside...Out. It's okay, go check her out, I'll wait. *tapping foot, counting to ten* Back? Awesome. Moving on...anyway, it said to call her because she had too much to say to type or text. So I headed in to hubby's office to use his phone. I figured Kathryn was calling for one of three things...a.) Medical advice. Because I've got those mad diagnostician skills I told you about. or b.) Parenting advice. Because I'm radically good at parenting. Everyone knows that. Again because I told them. Or c.) A good quote. Because I've become distinctly quotable thanks to Suzicate and unabridged girl. In truth, it was none of the above. It was more in the way of opportunity and information because she's become a mentor to me. Which I appreciate to no end. And yeah, we also just chatted because, hey, we're girls, that's how we roll.

Anyway, it ended up being a long conversation because, much like my blog, I tend to go off on tangents and wacky sidebars. Hubby came in and stood by his desk for a minute or two, until I shooed him away (yes, I shooed him out of his office. I gave him my "I'm very busy and your way close to me yelling" glare). And then Sean drifted in and I turned my back to him in my best "I'm very busy and so I'm ignoring you" signal. He left. Then Lu got home from work. Late. But she brought donuts so that was cool. The thing is...it was past dinnertime. Way past dinnertime. And since it had been before dinnertime when I started talking, my natives were getting restless. I overheard this conversation in the kitchen, outside the office door.

Lu: where's dinner?

Sean: She hasn't made it. She's been on that phone for like 3 hours!*as if! It was more like 1 & 1/2!*

Lu: Who's she talking to?

Sean: We don't even know but we're starving!!

How is it that it never occurred to anyone that they could start dinner on their own?? Lu was brave and came into the office. Since I'd overheard the convo, I started talking before she even opened her mouth~

Me: I'm talking to Kathryn from New York. It's about blog stuff. It's important. Can you just make some Spaghettio's or something? Please?

And off Lu went. About the same time, Kathryn's son Taylor came to her looking for dinner. My gosh, do they have an internal timer or something?? So we agreed to end our convo for the night. I made it into the kitchen in time to take over the grilled cheese sandwich making that was accompanying said Spaghettios. As this situation arose because I cook dinner every night, I'm pretty sure that my family is spoiled.

Anyway, one of the questions Kathryn asked me really made me think. Like all night long. Even though it was GhostHunter's night and I was busy watching Jason & Grant hunt ghosts, it was in the back of my head. The question was easy..."what do I want out of my blog"? But the answer is more difficult.

I started the blog for me. Kind of an online diary. I kept it secret at first from friends and family. I had the blog with my sister that they all read. This one, I wanted to be more about me. I wanted to be able to say what I felt without the possibility of hurting anyone's feelings or worrying anyone. I wanted to be able to break down, if that's what I needed to do. But somewhere along the way it became more for entertainment. I discovered that I liked being funny more than being serious. Oh, I know, every so often I still throw in serious, because you can't be funny 24/7. Not and be sincere as well. Because sometimes, life just isn't funny. As I gained readers and commenters and started following other blogs, I became part of a community. I began to care very much about my fellow bloggers. I even call many of them friends. And the blog became me talking to those friends. Sharing the insanity I call my life, and also anything I need to get off my mind.

And the other purpose that serves is that I'm writing. Everyday. Because writing is my passion. And my husband pointed out that I spend way more time writing my blog and commenting others than I do on my fiction writing. And he's right. The blog comes first and it takes roughly 4 hours a day to write, edit, post and then read & comment others. Four hours I could be writing fiction. (Or cleaning my house. Hahaha. Just kidding. That's not happening!!) But it doesn't matter. The truth is I do need to put more time and effort into the fiction writing, because maybe someday, that will help pay the bills. But the blog will still be. Why? Because it's gratifying. It's validating. It's what gives me the courage to write the fiction. And hopefully it will give me the courage to start submitting. And it gives me practice at writing. And practice makes perfect, or at least better.

So, what do I want from my blog? I want to entertain. I want to connect. I want to touch other people (no, not in an inappropriate way!). If I can make some money off of it? Well, hell yeah! Who doesn't need some extra cash nowdays?? But I don't expect it to make me famous. And if, at some wondrous magical point in the future, I get famous? This blog is still going to happen. Because this blog is the first thing I've done in a long time, that's just for me. It's my vice. And it's a good vice. Because it's cheap and not illegal. And I don't feel hungover in the morning. So, in essence, I'll keep writing if you keep reading. Okay, so we both know, that I'd probably keep writing even if you stopped reading, but it would be a hell of lot less fun!! And I'd probably get all depressed and start writing poetry about death and NO ONE wants me to go there...

air kisses to the people who help keep me going,
♥Spot

What do you want from your blog?

If you don't stop sniffling...drastic measures will be taken.

So my cold is better. And hubby's is somewhat better as well. Sean still has mystery rash but it's getting better. I was wondering today at the difference between my hubby and I when there's a sickness.

I mean, when I'm the one who's sick, I can be running a fever, red eyed, snot nosed and coughing and he'll still call me his "cootie girl" and want to snuggle. When he's sick? Especially when he's congested or coughing...I want to stand at least 3 feet from him and throw things at him. Like tissues (so he'll blow his damn nose instead of sniffling) and cold medicine (just take it already so we can both get some sleep!) and orange juice (my god, would you put something healthy in your body for a change?!). I feel kind of bad about it. I know it doesn't mean he loves me more.

I think it's because A. I use/used all my taking care of sick people patience and energy on the kids. I mean, I'm really good to them when their sick. And B. I just get annoyed because he won't take care of himself. No sick days for him. Nope he's got to be out there working. Without rest you don't get better. Plus he hates medicine and orange juice (or anything remotely resembling something healthy you might put into your body). Why is it so hard for men to take care of themselves?? And why am I not more sympathetic?

Don't get me wrong. I don't neglect him or anything. I mean, I'm the one who forced him to go get those suspicious moles looked at and removed. I rushed him to the hospital that summer he had the 105 fever. Tick bite, occupational hazard. I made the 3am trip to the ER with him when his gallbladder tried to explode. And then I was there all day every day the three days he was hospitalized. I've held his hand through stitches, metal shards in his eye, and finding out his heart valve will have to be replaced sometime in his fifties. I worry constantly about his health. And maybe that's the crux of my unsympatheticness (yeah, I made that word up. So what?) for the little things. It's his blatant refusal to take care of his health.

So men, my question for you is~ Do you take care of your health? If not, why???

And ladies~ how do you take care of your men? How do you get them to care about taking care of themselves?

Is every couple having this battle? Or is it unique to our situation? What say you?

shaking my head in consternation,
♥Spot

I should have been a doctor, or at least played one on TV

This post is probably going to ramble and make no sense, I'm just warning you ahead of time. I'm having trouble stringing together cohesive thoughts because I'm high on cold medicine because a cold virus has invaded our house. I'm pretty sure Bobby brought it home because he was sick last week. I told everyone not to kiss him or drink after him but hubby thought he'd be all funny when I said that and pretend to kiss him. He didn't kiss him but he did put his hand over his mouth and he probably got germs on it and then didn't wash it. So basically I blame them both. Because now hubby has it, I have it and Sean has a freaky rash on his arm. I don't even know what that's about but I'm hoping it's not contagious too. Because if I have to add an anti-itch pill I'll probably pass out and wake up next week sometime.

Anyway, I've decided that I missed my calling and I should totally have been a doctor. Really, it doesn't even matter that I hated Biology, I've got mad diagnostician skills that could have been put to use saving humanity. And I know this because last night Lu and I were watching "Mystery Diagnosis" on Discovery Health (yeah, that channel again). And the lady was having horrible pain and her legs kept turning black. It was gross. And it made my legs feel all squirmy and I got kind of nauseous. But I persevered and when I looked at her legs I said~

Me: You know, those kind of look like petechiae that you get Lu.

Lu: I've never had that many of them and they don't turn purple or black.

Me: Yeah, but they can. They can join together and make bigger spots called purpurae. I read about it. That's what those look like. I bet Dr. House would put her butt on steroids. That's always a good first call.

Lu: You know Dr. House isn't real right?

Me: Please don't disturb my fantasies with your reality. It annoys me.

Then on TV the Doctor says the purpurae were appearing right before their eyes.

Me: Oh! Who called it?! That's right! Me!

Lu:*rolling her eyes* Lucky guess.

Then they decided she had cryptoimmunoanemia. Or something else equally hard to pronounce. But it was because of some crazy antibodies.

Me: AHA!! It was an immune system dysfunction. And giving her steroids would have helped because it would have shut down those antibodies. I should totally be a doctor!!

Lu: I think it might be a little late for that kind of career change.

Me: *shrugs* whatever.

Then I got up to Facebook a friend to set up lunch for today and Lu kept watching the show. But then she got mad.

Lu: OMG! Remember how she forced her husband to leave her because she felt unloveable? Well when she got all better she found a new guy instead of going back to the old one. What a hussy! I'm not watching this anymore!

And she turned off the TV and left. But I was absorbed in FB by then so it didn't matter. I was excited because Mckenzie at unabridgedgirl had found me and friended me. I told Lu that I'd adopted Mckenzie now and she was my new daughter and Lu was very jealous. She's kind of like that. And then I realized that I have like 153 FB friends. That must mean I'm very popular, yo. So if I became a doctor, I'd have tons of patients. You'd all come see me, right??

There's a new post up at G & H to check out. And if at all possible, there will be a new review at What Spot Saw as well!

Have a fabulous Tuesday,
♥Spot

I'm not lazy, I'm radical

So it turns out I'm a radical parent. Who knew? I thought I was just weird. But then I saw an advertisement for this show "Radical Parenting" on one of my favorite channels, Discovery Health. And yes, the fact that it's one of my favorite channels probably qualifies me as weird. The fact that Sean is addicted to it as well, and we've managed to suck Lu in a few times, probably doubles the qualification. Well I managed to DVR it and Sean and I watched it on Friday afternoon.

The program showed three different families with "radical" parenting styles. The first family were unschoolers. Unschoolers are homeschoolers who don't follow any kind of set curriculum. The let the kids learn through experience and set the tone for what they want to learn. I'd done some research on unschooling when we first decided to homeschool. I even knew a family in the area who "unschooled" their children. They came into the bookstore where I worked frequently and all three of their children were bright and inquisitive. A little lacking maybe in the social skills department, but um, the parents were a bit off kilter there as well. What we ended up doing was a mix of homeschooling and unschooling approaches. I didn't buy any set curriculum's, although there are a plethora of them to choose from. It just always seemed to me to defeat the purpose of why we were homeschooling to follow a set curriculum. I would still be trying to make my kids fit their thinking into a box. So I made up my own curriculum and we adjusted our schedule to fit the mood of the day. I won't call that unschooling because while the kids had a definite say, I still made the bulk of decisions and we still used some workbooks and had assignments. When we homeschooled for high school though, it was a large step closer to unschooling. Mostly because they'd already proved they were a step ahead of the norm and they were (are) inquisitive and motivated learners. If I had lazy students it would have been a different story. But it worked for us. I never thought of it as radical.

The people on the show let their kids make decisions about everything. When they went to bed, what and when they ate, what they wear. And I guess in some ways, we've run our house like that too. My kids have pretty much always dictated their bed times. Sean is an early to bed, early riser. And Lu has always been a night owl who thinks getting up before noon is "early". I stepped in and enforced an earlier bedtime only when they had to get up the next day. I think everyone's body rhythms are different so not everyone can keep the same schedule. Luckily, homeschooling allowed me to be accommodating. I have often let them pick their own meals, though not the time. We all eat together. That's just our family time. Sean and I now joke about who's turn it is to make breakfast and if I don't make it he'll say I'm "lazy". So when we watched the show and saw the kids getting their own breakfast I told him "Look! I'm not lazy. I'm radical. Which is way cooler. You're so lucky to have me."

Another family was "attachment parenting". This meant that they carried their baby in a sling or backpack everywhere. And let the kids sleep with them. Again, I didn't even know I was being radical. I never used a sling or a backpack, but I sure as heck lugged them babies everywhere. Especially Lu. That kid used to scream bloody murder when you set her down. I just carried her so she'd shut the heck up. I didn't know I was "attachment" parenting. But it may explain why, even now, when she's sick, she thinks I should be with her 24/7. Is there such a thing as too attached? And yes, our kids slept with us forever. It started because CJ hates to sleep alone. And of course, if one is there, you can't tell the others no. So no matter where they started out, their own beds, a pallet on the floor of our room, by 2 am we'd been invaded. And they slept mostly on top of me. I remember one night, when we had no air conditioning and all three toddlers were sprawled on top of me, looking over at hubby sleeping peacefully without even a chubby baby leg on him and thought "wow. I'm just going to melt into a puddle of sweat and no one will ever know what became of me. how is this fair??". Again, no idea I was radical. I just wanted to sleep through the night.

These parents also practiced "elimination communication". Say that three times fast! I dare you! Which essentially means no diapers. (eeewwww...) They pay attention to their babies cues that they need to potty. I'm drawing the line here. Especially if I'm lugging that kid around. I can only take being peed on so many times in one day, you know? But more power to you if you can do it.

The third parenting style was "gender neutral" parenting. This is where the parents let their kids play with anything. They let their boys wear mommies heels and have dollhouses. Is this radical, really? Sean and CJ both wore my heels from time to time. They both wore Lu's dress ups too. Sean and Lu played barbies together. Although, Sean's guy was always a GI Joe badass. Lu ran around with the neighborhood boys and played baseball and war. She went hunting with her dad and brothers. I never restricted the kids toys to gender appropriateness. Was I really being radical? Damn, I'm quite the rebel!

I can't wait to see what other radical parenting techniques I used! I'm pretty sure letting my kids run wild through the timber, play in creeks, climb trees and come back by dark is going to qualify me for "free-range" parenting. And the fact that I let my teenagers make a lot of their own decisions (and thus their own mistakes) is going to get me the "unparenting" badge. And maybe I can slide in on the "unconditional" parenting award since my kids didn't get bribes or routine punishments. And they know that I love them even when they screw up.

It's funny, because I thought I was just doing what felt right. And now I find out I was using all these radical techniques. Wow. I'm a pioneer in the field of parenting. Thank goodness my kids seem to be turning out well!! Can you imagine the criticism these movements would be getting if I'd raised a serial killer?? Or a teen mom? Everyone would be gunning for me..."gee thanks Spot. Way to ruin a whole movement." I guess the proof will be in their adulthood though. Check with me in ten years. Make sure the kids have made good lives for themselves. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed...

Are you a radical parent too?

♥Spot

Oh yeah. I've hit the big time now...

So this blogging thing is really something else isn't it? I remember when I got 10 followers and I was all excited because that was double digits. Woot to the Hoo! And then the number just kept going. And now it's nearly 50. So I'm going to do a giveaway to celebrate. The 50th follower will recieve...NOT! I'm just kidding. You know I don't roll that way. I would never bribe people to follow me. Although I am thinking of doing a contest. But that's because there's something I want that I can't figure out how to do for myself. And if someone else does it, I want to give them something in return and because contests are just fun! But more on that mid-week.

Anyway, then I got excited when I started getting more than 5 comments a day. Because feedback rocks my universe. Now people were not only reading my ramblings they were discussing them. Oh happy joyful day! I felt validated. Something about my writing made people want to read it, think about it, and comment on it. Isn't that every writer's goal?

Then along came the Kindle dealio. Remember how I didn't think anything would come of that? I was ecstatic to learn that I was wrong. Oh, don't get excited, it's not like I'll make a living off my Kindle subscriptions, but I do have subscriptions. Which translated to "someone is actually paying money (okay so it's a pittance, but still) to read my incessant ramblings". Oh My Stars! (As Lu & Hildi would say). To me that was the big time.

But what happened yesterday, takes the cake. And really? I don't think anything short of publication will top it. Like ever. What was this amazing phenomenon?? I was QUOTED. For real. Quoted. And everyone knows that only really wise and famous people get quoted (well...um...okay so Paris Hilton sometimes gets quoted, but that's only to make fun of her and this was so not like that at all so stop throwing that in my face. Geez).

So, basically I know that I've reallly made the big time now because unabridged girl wrote this post. With my quote at the beginning and attributed to yours truly. And I didn't even have to bribe her. And she didn't ask for this plug but I'm giving it to her anyway because the girl is talented. With a capital "T". So thank you for making my day dear. Really, I'm pretty sure I gave a little scream. Because Sean came in and said~

Sean~ What the h*ll are you screaming for?

Me~ I. Got. Quoted.

Sean~ for real? Which totally weird thing that you said did someone choose to repeat?

Me~ "It's a world full of Cheerios- be a Fruit Loop." *And I did air quotes because now that it's an official quote I'm pretty sure you have to. Or the quote police come after you. And then I showed him the blog.*

Sean~ you're right. That's pretty awesome. People might be walking around saying "And Spot said..." It's awesome and very scary all at the same time.

Me~ but mostly awesome.

Sean~ yeah. Oh, by the way, I'm totally stealing that qoute. But I'm going to say it while doing the Captain Morgan pose. You know, just for effect. *and here he demonstrates by placing his foot on the couch and his hand on his thigh and repeating the quote*

Me~ You're totally right. That does give it more emphasis.

Sean~ and Mom? You don't have to worry. You're not a Fruit Loop. You're not even a box of Fruit Loops. You are like the whole damn pallet of boxes.

I'm pretty sure that was a huge compliment. I took it that way anyway. Later I told hubby about being quoted. He always seems slightly shocked that my blog is doing well. I'm pretty sure it's because he doesn't get me. But then, his sense of humor is totally whacked. Lu was excited.

So there you have it. Why I'm now on the very peak of being famous. And to think you knew me when I was just some crazy chick with a blog. Oh wait. I'll always be the crazy chick with the blog. Just famouser.

♥Spot

A trip to St. Louie....

So yesterday was the big day. Lu and I drove the two and a half hours to St. Louis for her appointment at Children's Hospital. We had to get up early and get ready and leave. Neither of us is good with early. Oh yeah, there was an emergency stop at Starbucks in our future. Because just in the half hour drive to the nearest town? I found myself creatively naming the other drivers and resisting the obscene urge to flip off absolutely everyone I happened to see. Convo~

Me: WTH?! Is today national drive-for-shit day and I missed the memo?

Lu: You didn't get that email?

Me: Damn spam filters! I miss all the good stuff.

But after fortifying myself with a Venti Caramel Frappachino, I was feeling a bit better. Oh, other people were still driving for shit, especially as we got into the city, but I was coping better. And then I was forced to whip out in front of a truck. Truly sorry, I hollered my apology~

Me: Sorry Mr. Truck Driver. It's national drive-for-shit day! Just doing my part!

I doubt he heard me. But thankfully he did not run us over.

We got to the hospital on time, found a spot in the parking garage and headed to the lab. We were done in minutes and Lu only squinched up her face a little bit when they took her blood. Then we proceeded to the ninth floor where her appointment was. Apparently every hospital pairs hematology with oncology. Because there was a waiting room full of kids waiting for chemo treatments. Yeah, I said kids.

We've gotten used to the waiting room at our cancer center, but it's very rare to see kids there. Sitting in a waiting room with children with cancer sucks the joy right out of your soul. As always, I look around feeling equal parts blessed (because my own children are cancer free) and guilty (because my own children are cancer free). And while Lu's disorder is serious enough, she's not dying. And she's not going through chemo. And she's getting to live her life, pretty much without restrictions. And it doesn't seem fair. And I know that life is rarely fair. But there just seems something cosmically wrong about small bald children in surgical masks stoically awaiting chemo. And while Lu sat with her nose stuck in her book (denial is that girl's best friend), I sat silently offering my many thanks to the powers that be that we are indeed fortunate and blessed in our daily life.

I know that one of the comments I received on my post about Lu's ITP said that they liked how I never seemed to ask "why us?". Well the credit for that has to go to Hubby. When we got CJ's autism diagnosis 17 years ago we were both still very young ourselves (22 & 20). And during one of my crying jags and our discussions I said exactly that. "Why US??! I did everything right for my pregnancy. I did everything I could to ensure a healthy baby! Why us?". My husband looked me right in the eye and said~

Husband: Baby, don't you think everyone who has something bad happen asks that same question? Do you think someone who's in an accident and is paralyzed looks up and says "well thanks God. I totally deserved that." Do you think parents of children who die think "you're right God. I needed to be taken down a peg or two." No, honey, they don't. It's not fair. Life isn't fair. But there's no use in asking "why?" because the only answer is "because". The question is "what are we going to do about it?". Because really that's all we can control.

That he had that attitude at 20 never ceases to amaze me. It was the last time I ever questioned why something happened. You get dealt your hand in life and the only thing you can control is how you play it.

As for Lu's appointment, they sure do things different in the world of pediatrics than they do in adult medicine. We had a female doctor come in, take the case history, and talk to us. She said they really don't treat kids unless their counts drop to 10,000. The hell? That seems scary to me. What if you need an emergency appendectomy? They won't even operate unless your count is 70,000. We discussed Lu's age at onset, the fact that she's moving in 6 months, and the fact that she is in those childbearing years. That Doctor left and brought in the head doctor (who I refer to now as Dr. McHottie. Because, well, wow.). He discussed some options and really made sure Lu understood the basics of her disease. The game plan? They are going to monitor her platelet counts for the next four months. If they stay above 100,000 and level off on their own it's okay to not treat. If they continue to drop or crash and get below 50,000 then we will look into a treatment called Rituxin. It would mean a weekly trip to St. Louis for a several hour infusion for four weeks. After that, she may be susceptible to colds and viruses for another 9 months, but then? Immune system back to normal, possibly cured for life!! Very few side effects. Me? I was like why can't we just do that, if it might cure it? Apparently the drug is not FDA approved for the treatment of ITP even though it's also used for that purpose. So most insurances don't cover it and it's very very expensive. Apparently, they don't understand that I will do whatever it takes (sell a kidney, sleep with a millionaire, humiliate myself in public, anything) to get her a cure. But for now, we wait.

So three hours later, we left the hospital. And then we hit the Galleria Mall. Three stories of shopping bliss, because why waste a trip to St. Louis? And the best part? She didn't even make me go into Aeropostle or Hollister. We did hit some awesome stores though. Victoria's Secret, Hot Topic and a funky little boutique called Francesca's. She also took me into Heritage 1981/Forever 21. Because somehow she ended up with a gift card to there. And this was the conversation:

Lu: C'mon let's go into Heritage 1981 and you can look at all the clothes you wish I'd wear.

Me: Huh?

Lu: You'll see. *she pulled me in and we started perusing the racks. finally she found me again* Did you find anything I might wear?

Me: No. But I found loads of stuff I'd wear if I was thinner. Look at these combat boots and this awesome skirt!!

Lu: Did you pull that out of your closet circa 1986?

Me: Yeah. I used my "hot tub time machine" to go back and get it.

She did end up with a dress, a shirt, a jacket and we both got necklaces. I only hope she has the guts to wear the dress because she looked amazing. =]

Have a wild & wonderful weekend,
♥Spot

Dear Blockbuster...we are over!

How could you do this to me? Really? Really?!! I can't believe you even tried to play this game with me. We've been down this road before and it ended badly. But I gave you a second chance. I put the past behind me and we started anew. I thought you'd changed. I really believed in happy endings. I believed in you. And yet, it's come to this. Words cannot express how much you've let me down.

Wasn't I a faithful lover? You know I was. I visited you every time I was in town. Every. Damn. Time. Why? Because I loved you. I spent hours with you...walking up and down the aisles...caressing you shelves, lovingly touching the movies, reading aloud the synopsis. Remember that time, in the horror aisle, when I shouted in unadulterated joy at finding a copy of an obscure horror classic? Remember "Dead and Breakfast"? I guess at least, we'll always have that...

And yes, I know sometimes I left your embrace to visit Library. But it wasn't the same. My love for the two of you is so different. One could not possibly detract from the other. In fact, my love for Library only enhanced my love for you. You shared so many of the same stories.

What really gets me, what cuts me to the very core of my being, is that I introduced you to my children! And they too fell for you. But you've been changing lately, and I could see the writing on the wall. But yet, I persisted in believing in you. I turned away from the lure of the Red Box and stayed true to you. And then this!! How dare you impose a dollar a day fee for every day I'm late bringing back a rental?? WTH?? You know I live far from you. You know I don't intentionally keep the movies longer. You know me!! I thought our relationship was built on trust? But now you've thrown it all away! And for what??! Greed?? Love of the green backed whore??

Well this is it buster. I won't take it!! I'm not going to melt into a hott mess. No. I'm leaving you. Keep your "four nights for four dollars" attitude and play that game with someone else! And an extra dollar for every day over charged to my credit card? Puh-lease! No one else treats me that badly.

I'll get over you. Don't you worry about me. Red Box has been calling my name for months now. And Netflix? Oh yeah I've had my eye on him too. Don't you worry baby, I'll bounce back. But will you??

Take your new rental policy and shove it.

Love, Me

Let your freak flag fly...

So, things have been interesting at my house lately. I know. Things are always interesting at my house. So you can imagine what it's been like lately. The cause of all this um...interestingness? Me. Yep. This time I'm the culprit. And all because I want to be me again.

See life is a funny thing. You start out one way then something happens and you end up walking in a different direction. Then a tree falls in the road and you have to detour. Everyone always talks about the path they're on like it's some kind of straight shot. Well if you got the easy straight path...good for you. Personally? My path has had more twists than a spiral staircase. And you change and adapt to fit the new country you're walking through.

I've had so many roles in the last twenty years. Young (oh god, like baby young) wife, young mother, support group coordinator, advocate, lobbyist, mentor, lecturer, full time mom, daycare provider, homeschool teacher, chief cook & bottle washer, housekeeper, laundry fairy, best friend, biggest fan, country girl (and that took some getting used to!), partner, helpmate, secretary, mingler, home redecorator, sister, daughter, mother, love, friend. Whew! The list goes on. And so many of those roles were all at the same time. I remember in the early years wondering who I was that day? It was overwhelming trying to be everything to everyone. And somewhere along the way, I lost the girl inside.

I won't go through the journey I took to stop being such a people pleaser and start being me again. It was long and arduous and involves a brief drop into a very dark hole. But in the end, I won. I found my "me" again. It's been about ten years since we reconnected. And in those ten years I've played a bunch of different roles, but they never took over again. I was still "me" while doing those things too. (I'm not sure if this is making sense to anyone but me) Everything I did was done with my personality. I was the same person, regardless of the situation. Meeting at CJ's school? Me. Working at the bookstore? Me. Dinner for Hubby's work? Me. All me all the time. You either like me, or you don't. I won't change to suit you.

My friend J says that I have the most self esteem of any person she knows. This is probably quite true. I worked hard for it though. But then I came to terms with myself and if I like "me", then that's all that counts. It doesn't mean that I don't want other people to like me, I do! But if they don't? Well that's ok too. I'm not going to keep trying to win them over like I would've before. And that sense of self esteem goes for everything. Looks, intelligence, talent, skills.

I've tried to teach my kids self esteem, but I'm not sure it can be taught. I think it has to come from an agreement within yourself. My daughter is beautiful, smart, funny and talented. Her self esteem though falls somewhere in the middle. She doesn't think she's beautiful or smart. She won't leave the house without looking like a million bucks. Unless she's very sick. She feels like everyone grades her appearance. And no matter how I try I can't seem to get her past that. The hippie is working on it as well and there has been progress. She asks me how I can not think about my appearance? And I tell her. I get ready, maybe I change a few times, but finally I look in the mirror and think "well, that's the best it's gonna get". And that's the last time I think about it. Why spend more time worrying about it? And why the heck would you care what other people thought? I want people to like me for me. My wit, my sarcasm, my complete ridiculousness. My smile. Not my fashion sense. Not my hairstyle. I dress to please me. To convey my "me-ness", not to reflect my conformity.

And maybe that's the crux of the thing. I'm an individual. I don't care to fit in. I'm not really rebelling. I just don't care to conform. I dress in clothes that I like, whether they're "in" or "out". Sometimes I like what's in fashion and I wear it. Other times I like what used to be in fashion. So I wear that. I mean, within reason. There are limits. I wouldn't wear jeans to a dressy event. But I might wear a purple dress and an armful of bangles. But nothing too outlandish. The roles still had to be somewhat respected.

So the problem? I'm finally free of most of the roles. I'm still a daughter, sister, wife, mother, friend. Those will never change. But I work from home now. The kids are almost grown. And over the last year, I've realized that life is too short to worry about what others think anyway. So I've started making even more changes in appearance that reflect my personality. It started with a pair of purple sneakers. Then it moved on to some rather loud shirts. And one that Sean dubbed "the hippie grandma shirt". I adore that shirt. Then it was shopping in Myrtle Beach, where I loved the funky stores and my children went into Aeoropostle. "Really?" I asked. "Aeropostle? You want to look like everyone else?". They saw nothing wrong with that. Sometimes I wonder if they're really mine at all.

I mean, they have their small individualities. Lu has four tattoos, a nose piercing, 4 ear lobe piercings, a cartilage piercing, an ear tab piercing, and an industrial. But all of those can be easily covered. She absolutely will not do anything weird with her hair. And Sean? Well except for the tattoo on his wrist he's very straight with his appearance. No piercings. Preppy clothes. Decent haircut. Lol.

Sean asked if I was having a midlife crisis. I informed him that A) I planned on living past 80, therefore I was not midlife and B) nope. I've always been weird. Just subdued it for a time. We finally had to ask hubby for back up. He assured Sean that I had always been unique and that was what he fell in love with. When we met I had a funny accent and a different way of looking at everything. That I had streaks of blue through my hair and wore combat boots with my bubble skirts. And he'd never met anyone like me.

So I got my nose pierced last week. It's funny. I've wanted to for a long time but just hadn't done it yet. Now that I have, Lu says it's like it's been there all the time. It just seems so me. I'm considering purple hair. For real. Hubby says go for it. And actually, both kids are behind it too. What do you think?

Last, I'll leave you with an illustration of today's points. We went to a movie while we were in Myrtle Beach. We saw "The Wolfman". The theatre was huge and packed. During the previews there was a funny preview and I laughed. Loudly.

Lu: Omigod. That was the loudest laugh ever. I'm pretty sure the whole theatre heard you!

Me: (giving her my surprised eyes and covering my mouth with my hand) oh no! What will people think?! (then I lowered my hand and rolled my eyes) oh. wait. that's right. I didn't care.

Lu rolled her eyes at me.

Me: It was funny!! Why would I care if these people thought I laughed too loud or didn't think it was funny? I don't even know anyone in this theatre and I'll probably never see them again. Wait!! Maybe someone in here reads my blog! Maybe I should stand up and shout "I'm Spot"! What if someone was like "omigod! Spot!"

Lu: Don't you dare!!

I didn't. But she kept eyeing me the whole time.

It's a world full of Cheerios. Be a Fruit-Loop. =]
♥Spot