tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-203269172024-03-05T15:17:45.544-06:00Just FweetieBIf I had to choose, I'd just read to my kids...thoughts on a better than average existence.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.comBlogger103125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-46188485946180956302011-02-06T10:44:00.001-06:002011-02-06T10:58:53.488-06:00I won a Nook - now in COLOR!<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3pwUe5hpRahSHfx48IYtyp6-reqHVyn49oDt7vS7_f6QGqTJHBPKT3FEmPNQIlCFGqlELeEC8gq69xxZ1SAeUBXtBFehH7xBUnY8vkSPD-5vh77OgiZ2jvktV7qxIlcs2OE6HQ/s1600/Meet_Nook_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3pwUe5hpRahSHfx48IYtyp6-reqHVyn49oDt7vS7_f6QGqTJHBPKT3FEmPNQIlCFGqlELeEC8gq69xxZ1SAeUBXtBFehH7xBUnY8vkSPD-5vh77OgiZ2jvktV7qxIlcs2OE6HQ/s200/Meet_Nook_3.jpg" width="138" /></a>I am way behind in my blog reading. I blame work. And kids. And cleaning. And ALL those books I'm trying to read. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Which I am now going to try reading on the NookColor I won! </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">(Courtesy of Rita at <a href="http://surrenderdorothy.typepad.com/books/">Surrender, Dorothy Reviews</a> and <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/">Barnes & Noble</a>. You rock!)</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I'll be using it for the first time tomorrow - finally heading to Michigan for work. In winter. Surrounded by record-breaking snow falls. Lovely. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Good thing I'll have the Nook to keep me warm. </span>Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-40533401950263604762010-05-20T22:37:00.003-05:002010-05-20T23:16:48.191-05:00Open letter to Stephen KingIt's not you; it's me. <br /><br />Really...I hate to let you go, after all, you were my first author-love. At age 13 I picked up Nightmares and Dreamscapes and I was hooked. You drew me into a completely new world. A dangerous one that I hid from my parents. My first "secrets."<br /><br />As soon as I had the money, I began collecting your books (and I'm embarrassed to say, stealing the older ones in paperback from the library). Over the years I was obsessed with reading everything your pen put to paper. My friends gave me crap about my single-mindedness, but I knew you and I were connected. We had something special they just didn't understand.<br /><br />As in all relationships, we had our ups and downs -- you had some greats (The Stand, The Dead Zone, Hearts in Atlantis) and some serious stinkers (Insomnia, Regulators/Desperation). I didn't let it bother me - I knew that everyone has their faults, and I forgave you.<br /><br />I saw you once in person when I was in college - you drove your Harley onto the stage and I knew what it was to get hot for someone I admired and respected. You did not disappoint. Totally the highlight of my Freshman year. I'll never forget that moment.<br /><br />This is so hard for me to say, but we've grown apart. I'm sure you've noticed it too - how could you not? I've gotten older, found more interests. I've come to realize that death is no laughing matter and we're all too close to it as it is; I just don't want to read about gratuitous violence, no matter how creative and slightly amusing. I no longer carry a vision of my own immortality. I know death can be ugly. I don't need the adjectives from you to draw the pictures for me.<br /><br />We just don't have anything in common! I thought I'd give it one last try and I picked up "Under the Dome." I tried to read it, I swear. I really, really did! But I have to confess, I only made it to into the 70s...I even scanned ahead, hoping to get drawn back in...and I was so disappointed when all I saw was more of the same. (Misunderstood, outsider hero. Large, mean, stupid bad guy, who I assume later is discovered to be just the little bad guy and there is a much worse one in the plot. Oodles of blood...you know. The usual.)<br /><br />I'm sorry, but I just can't do it anymore. I need authors with more meat in their stories than just appendages being cleaved off. I need more emotion than fear, hate and loathing. When you write well, it's a dream come true. I miss the feelings you gave me when I first picked up "Nightmares." Maybe it's not fair of me to put that on you, but it's for the best that I move on.<br /><br />I packed up your things. What I didn't sell or donate, I left in a box in my basement. Feel free to come pick them up.<br /><br />Just call first.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-85042032676282322632010-04-18T00:54:00.002-05:002010-04-18T01:03:30.033-05:00"Gone off blogging"So I logged in to my blogger account today, and saw a comment from a few weeks back...someone sent me well wishes in my real life since "you've gone off blogging" and I thought, Damn, I HAVE gone off blogging. I'm a tweeter now, and I put up a daily Facebook comment. I try to not be particularly trite, which is why this blog is so hellishly outdated. I've been feeling trite lately.<br /><br />I'm enjoying reading my friends' blogs, which are much more interesting than I thought possible (sorry). But really, the biggest thing lately is that life is busy, I'm traveling or have dinner mtngs for work several times a month, when I'm hom ein the evenings I want to be HOME and not in computer-land. Plus, Chee is on the home computer a LOT in the evenings, which means my time here is limited. (I'm hoping to add a laptop to our little family soon.) Basically, I have all the excuses in the world to not write in this little diary to the Internets.<br /><br />I feel I'm at a fork in the road...this blog lacks focus. If I could reign it in and concentrate on one thing (work? family? books? news I find interesting? link sharing?) maybe I could keep it better updated.<br /><br />But really, let me just think on that one.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-31274081429111239022009-12-29T21:56:00.004-06:002009-12-29T22:12:05.186-06:00a new year lurks...Life has been getting the best of me.<br /><br />I should be cleaning. Doing laundry. Picking up the new toys/clothes/books. But where am I? Lost in the Internets. My dear Chee is down with a temporary injury, my girls are sleeping soundly, and I've had more than enough time to play with my big gift of the holidays, a Motorola Droid (which is totally a kick-ass cousin to the iPhone). And I'm in the office, accomplishing nothing. SO, on that note, a quick, guilt-free post...<br /><br />What has 2009 brought us? Chee's near completion of the next great American novel; the decision that our fine city isn't the pit I used to think it was and we'll stay for awhile, thanks; the belief that I am getting old (and wrinkly) and if I don't take better care of me, I'm seriously screwed; our house is much too small, and purging is no longer the answer; jobs is jobs is jobs - I'm glad to have mine, but dream of better; we're so thankful for our families, friends and those who are both, that I could just cry; and two smart, sassy little girls is exactly what we needed to complete our family .<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTAyS9z6jn6ZLqBnhGzseiVWovEXnLqXFs-lIUyrLcslgvzCAik5euV78jmaMAg_gWp5fnRXGbAY3imTZUuttoOl22GmMJqtc1Iojinyoo01v5sEaGLP4mu-oQIZ2OuYR0Jia4A/s1600-h/Fall+2009+095.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420876382295474610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTAyS9z6jn6ZLqBnhGzseiVWovEXnLqXFs-lIUyrLcslgvzCAik5euV78jmaMAg_gWp5fnRXGbAY3imTZUuttoOl22GmMJqtc1Iojinyoo01v5sEaGLP4mu-oQIZ2OuYR0Jia4A/s200/Fall+2009+095.jpg" /></a><br /><br />'Nuff said.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-25040250701772148402009-09-22T21:22:00.003-05:002009-09-22T21:38:54.632-05:00Facebook deep thoughts...what an oxymoron...I have become a lurker. I watch. And I read. I rarely post. Why, you may ask? I've come to the conclusion that there are few things I would say that would not annoy me, if I were on the receiving end. No one cares about my overnight business trips, or what I'm having for dinner. Close friends/family would like to hear about my girls' escapades, and when I'm planning on going back the boonies to visit the fam. But really, my life is pretty much the same, all the time.<br /><br />Maybe I'm just sick of Facebook. I count on the same few people for entertaining statuses, or links. I love to hear news like engagements, visits abroad and new family members. But truth be told, I'm "hiding" more people's comments than viewing them. "For shame!" you may say, "why did you bother to 'friend' them in the first place?"<br /><br />Answer - i thought i might be surprised and find out i know lots of really interesting people with much cooler lives than mine. And if i'm really truthful with myself, i do know some great, nice people. some have very happy lives and they want to share the minutae with the masses. I used to be in that group. Lately, i've decided to move on. i only read the interesting ones. no more reading about other people's trips to the park with their kids....again.<br /><br />But if you're K.C. (who takes fabulous trips to CO and writes religiously on her blog), or J&K, (who have a new baby I'm dying to meet), or Kathleen (who has hella interesting opinions on everything from the environment to Gallic badasses like her hubbie), or Steve (who I used to work with and is HI-larious), or Adam (my dear ex-roomie who has gone from drama 24x7 to settled and happy as heck), I'm ALL ears.<br /><br />Basically, if you know you've got something interesting going on, I'm still tuning in. Not that you really care either, but it was on my mind.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-67080114832673705022009-08-16T21:49:00.002-05:002009-08-16T21:58:46.545-05:00Big KindergartenerI've been seeing many posts on kids starting school. I can't really dread Monkee going to school - she's been in daycare since she was an itty bitty. I am nervous for her, though. New school. New faces. She may or may not have anyone in her class she knows. And she'll be dealing with all that, plus a new language. Immersion schools are like that; they immerse in the language of choice.<br /><br />Once she learns an additional language, it should be easier for her to learn others, should she feel the need to do so. And in this ever-shrinking world, can we afford to have kids who speak one language? Sure, English-speakers are almost everywhere, but how can anyone really get a feel for a culture not your own unless you attempt to learn the language?<br /><br />I'm monolingual. And hate it. I want to give my daughter the world. What better way than to open up other cultures to her? Plus, the teachers at this school are international. What a great way to teach her about all the places she hasn't been - yet.<br /><br />This first step to the big K is just the first new place to go. I'm so excited for her.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-1592163777483493342009-08-05T21:52:00.005-05:002009-08-05T22:44:43.819-05:00toddlers or trainwrecks?I started typing up a story about winning a massage. But that's about it - I won a massage.<br /><br />So while I sit here, mentally preparing to get some real work done, I watched Toddlers&Tiaras.I think I'm past offended. I am, however, concerned that we (especially in the South, where these things always seem to go down) are raising a generation of bimbos.<br /><br />For every girl on these shows who looks to be sincerely enjoying the flaunting and primping, there are 5 who are crying because they hate makeup, would rather be playing, have a wig that hurts, or glitter in their eyes. The moms say "they love it." In most cases, the kids do not look like they love it, at all. And that's what keeps us watching those damn shows...the clash between what we see and what we hear.<br /><br />Ridiculous. The moms they highlight are almost always severely overweight, and I know I'm stereotyping, but I can't help but think they are the epitome of living through your children, forcing them to do something they never could.<br /><br />I just hope those little kids are given time away from the fakery to get muddy, go to museums, read books and ride bikes. I hope their lives have many more dimensions to them than what we're shown.<br /><br />I find it sad that so many moms think validation by crowning is necessary, in any form. How many of those girls might have grown up to be scientists? Or something that has nothing to do with how they look? I can only hope they see the light as they get older and realize fluff and glitter can only get you so far...then you're paying for plastic boobs and botox.<br /><br />My girls are smart. And beautiful. They'll figure it out without pagentry.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-15387629951095425942009-07-23T21:40:00.002-05:002009-07-23T21:46:29.002-05:00Travelling man...or WOman, as the case is.<br /><br />I went on my first business trip this week. It was fine.<br /><br />It was to LA. I stayed at a fancy hotel. Ate fancy food on the rooftop of a fancy club. Slept in a big, fancy bed, all to myself. Saw lots of super-fancy cars and people who thought they were fancy (store-bought boobs do NOT a person of class make).<br /><br />And I missed my messy little family. And my cluttered little house. And a crowded bed at 6am. And my very, very not fancy car.<br /><br />It was an overnight trip - technically, around 36 hours. Lord - if I ever have to leave for a week I'll be a basket-case.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-20168702238983280992009-07-09T22:32:00.003-05:002009-07-09T22:50:54.015-05:00Social Media StagnationI'm trying really hard to stay enthused about Social Media.<br /><br />To me, now that my job doesn't technically require me to keep up on it all, that means logging into Twitter a few times a week, reading a few blogs (work and non) weekly, checking in on Facebook every 4 days or so, and making sure my LinkedIn account is still living.<br /><br />I must have jumped in on it all at a good time, but frankly, I'm just hella burned out. I know all the rules ('if you use it right, it can do wonders for you!'), but they just seem like a drain on my oh-so-precious time. Blogging included. I'm forcing this post (can you tell?) and allotting all of 15 min. I was up for several hours last night with Little. My lack of REM sleep is dragging my already dragging butt even lower.<br /><br />So I've decided to use my time more wisely and with less stress. Blog when I feel like it, no underlying guilt (it certainly hasn't been working thus far). Facebook as necessary (and is it ever REALLY necessary?), and Twittering when I actually have something to say. I plan on sticking to sponging up what other people are writing, saving noteworthy pieces to my delicious account, and living in the real world for awhile.<br /><br />Remember that place?Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-52246866411244407072009-06-09T21:21:00.005-05:002009-06-09T21:42:41.958-05:00RIP<em>a sunny lawn spot<br /></em><div><em>she was a good dog back then</em></div><div><em>rest in peace Gracie</em><br /></div><div></div><br /><div>*sigh and sniff*</div><br /><div>We got her at five years old, already mildly damaged, but such a good, loyal dogster. Obedient, loving, lick-ist. Let the kid pull her ears and sit on her. Loved us. And we loved her back. She was one of us...We had her for seven years.</div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div>We kept her as long as we could. Hearing got bad. Then worse. Thunder, heck, even sprinkles of rain, made her crazy. She bit the kid in the face (4 stitches), became aggressive with adults, chewed chunks of wood from the kitchen and office doors (while on doggie-prozac) during rain storms. We tried medication, and separation from the youngsters. We thought "farm dog" - we'll just keep her outside. But then she gouged huge pieces of siding off the garage (again, while on a mild sedative which didn't work), throwing up wood pulp and chunks of her own stomach. She escaped from the yard time and again, hurting herself in the process... miserable and unable to be part of the family.</div><br /><div>It was just time. But damn, I miss her. </div><div></div><div>RIP - we'll remember the good times, sweet ol' dog. Enjoy the sunny spots.</div><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkiHDuUidzo6AgwxMfMQvCCHmIUdwOLZpffaHutYRp36dDMUx9meB_zaO6RGfKkTvFr0NwXTMTcHFhEbx_IWZCfmuW7AZbn0H1hHcuMwrigwEbYY0lHDtkAy7pJQlm4zUAEyXEQ/s1600-h/grace2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345520244642562674" style="WIDTH: 164px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkiHDuUidzo6AgwxMfMQvCCHmIUdwOLZpffaHutYRp36dDMUx9meB_zaO6RGfKkTvFr0NwXTMTcHFhEbx_IWZCfmuW7AZbn0H1hHcuMwrigwEbYY0lHDtkAy7pJQlm4zUAEyXEQ/s200/grace2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-5189938111821648052009-05-04T22:57:00.006-05:002009-05-04T23:18:51.472-05:00Crawlin' FoolFor you aunties and g-mas....<br />List of recent baby accomplishments:<br /><ul><li>7 months old last week and crawling after the cat</li><br /><li>pulling herself up and standing in her crib</li><br /><li>sitting like a champ</li><br /><li>trying (unsuccessfully) to hurl herself out of the arms of whoever is holding her</li><br /><li>4 teeth</li><br /><li>eating solids</li><br /><li>feeding herself "puffs"</li><br /><li>holding her own bottle</li><br /><li>trying out a sippy cup</li><br /><li>lifting arms to be picked up</li><br /><li>yelling after mommy when she leaves the room (which just breaks my heart)</li></ul>*sigh* She's not supposed to be doing all this yet. I'm not ready.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty1we8TfaD2EPMNvK-RUY6_NMhOfp-oK-OmQr8V5dWkmqcEGkMJ1FnHVhqswOqQEXbV05wwB1kEJSmHygKEoj6dO4_veKjE9bzTPdwRisuZGnc34dpfZB0OyRih5pK441ERMe2A/s1600-h/E+on+mat_2+0309.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332189356697487474" style="WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty1we8TfaD2EPMNvK-RUY6_NMhOfp-oK-OmQr8V5dWkmqcEGkMJ1FnHVhqswOqQEXbV05wwB1kEJSmHygKEoj6dO4_veKjE9bzTPdwRisuZGnc34dpfZB0OyRih5pK441ERMe2A/s200/E+on+mat_2+0309.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7CkdDT65Zzw0cGCnCet8GpSB_eTiewzh27G8JKxHIxqkLJScIXx1lE7kKdFEUIfhMer2FiWBTiCGZt2XKLtLZUVgzGoXUraomMaQ9iQaQIq-tlSiU0kFqC5vUW60qGnNxkni0Xw/s1600-h/EandMommy.jpg"></a>Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-50318807522825618822009-05-04T22:40:00.002-05:002009-05-04T22:57:33.151-05:00Work, Life and the BalanceJust imagine, after suffering through daily hell (I'd say more, but legally, i can't)...I am in heaven.<br /><br />I am now in a place where you're allowed basic schedule flexibility. Where everyone respects one another's skills and there are no staff meeting "call-outs' meant to demean (and demoralize in the process). Where people are treated like professionals. Where collaboration is vital. Where it really IS about the client. And where respect for one another is absolutely key.<br /><br />People, it's all up from here.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-2892748907463144992009-04-27T09:53:00.007-05:002009-04-27T10:22:05.400-05:00What do you send to Camp Victory?<div><div><div>If you had a friend in Iraq, in the Red Zone at Camp Victory, what would you send?</div><br /><div>He said since it's like a small city there, he doesn't need anything. I don't buy it. I don't want him to miss home more...so sentimental crap is out. He is a huge reader and movie watcher. Movies he has in abundance. Books, I know he has access to (just not sure how). </div><br /><div>He has a very wry and offbeat sense of humor...a former teacher and IT geek, he's simply one of the best guys our family knows, and Chee has known him forever. <span style="font-size:85%;">(If we could only find him a nice single girl...)</span></div><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujdZz7z_EKCJCaUsFbowTw6LzEhcxsWRDGyXg3Qt5-y8pmG4v5jLyRQZg4v07yIIeYCi0vm6VEtC5WPMw9U85T79t5YxOJw7e42wdfkVgf7Zd7ftMIMus4LQsELnmfKkg_besXw/s1600-h/mikey.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329390415552891938" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujdZz7z_EKCJCaUsFbowTw6LzEhcxsWRDGyXg3Qt5-y8pmG4v5jLyRQZg4v07yIIeYCi0vm6VEtC5WPMw9U85T79t5YxOJw7e42wdfkVgf7Zd7ftMIMus4LQsELnmfKkg_besXw/s200/mikey.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Any ideas?</div><br /><div>*Mikey - if you're reading this, and you better be, comment and let me know what to pack up for you! </div><div>We miss you terribly. Monkee says thanks for the Camel. She has yet to name him, but took him to school today to show off. I'll send a pic soon.<br /></div><div>In the meantime, these carrots are for you...</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkZmeLsCqicKmzo61K4YHBaylJ97jGLTgCVL45iqjRk4HCunhwbQq_VULubDk1lvfDFPG-bEibr8pEb9g7wxuHbSMLzJodHiIpAiSOXzZs8AaXzzx7YetmjgP8EcGlUNDBEXehA/s1600-h/Ecarrots.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329391268298655170" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkZmeLsCqicKmzo61K4YHBaylJ97jGLTgCVL45iqjRk4HCunhwbQq_VULubDk1lvfDFPG-bEibr8pEb9g7wxuHbSMLzJodHiIpAiSOXzZs8AaXzzx7YetmjgP8EcGlUNDBEXehA/s200/Ecarrots.JPG" border="0" /></a></div></div>Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-91374673723854121732009-04-18T19:43:00.003-05:002009-04-18T20:11:26.338-05:00When all you can do is bitch about everything...(...and for you gestapo-types, I am not talking about anything work-related.) I'm talking about a frustrated 6-month old. All she wants to do is crawl, walk, run, already! Oh, and feed herself with a spoon (she has her pincher-grasp down already), turn on faucets, open cabinets, wash her own feet, be like her sister! etc... But what she can mainly do is tell everyone how annoyed she is by her lack of mobility - rolling is just not doing it for her.<br /><br />Poor baby. I feel for her. But at this rate, that child is going to be crawling by 7-months and walking by 10 (or earlier). In the meantime, our household has learned to tell the difference between "I'm hungry","I'm sleepy", and "I'm pissed off because I can't do what I want, when I want!" Along with this goes the ever-present, "carry me, carry me, carry me", which is always a favorite. And her pick-me-up arms are coming along nicely.<br /><br />In the meantime, Monkee is not complaining about her sister's squawks (thank god), and has turned my old Scientific Calculator (Texas Instruments) into a walkie-talkie. Only calls out and ordering invisible friends around, people and animals.<br />"Michael Catlink, Michael Catlink, you're on the move...your cat bath is ready." "John Lenzo, you're on the move - time for play gym." "Maddie, Maddie, John Lenzo needs you." "John Stewart, time for play gym." (you think she'd heard us talking about The Daily Show?)<br />"John Dorfin, Joh Dorfin, are you there? John Dorfin is not here, move him off the list."<br /><br />I am loving listening to this. It reminds me so much of that Blackberry Curve <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyIjF3-IhBQ">commercial</a> (which I always think is a FedEx ad). Poor Callahan. In our case here, poor John Dorfin - whoever he is, he didn't make her "list". Welcome to Saturday night at our house.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-83251681469456951352009-04-16T19:57:00.003-05:002009-04-16T20:17:39.517-05:00Moving on...So lots of news...lost a job, but looking like I'll be gaining a much better one soon.<br /><br />Today I completely enjoyed a quiet day without hurry, or anything else detrimental to my good mood. Checked facebook, ran errands, did a bit of laundry. Picked up Monkee from school and got ice cream. Went home and took both kids for a walk. Pretty much perfect. And did I mention, no hurrying? Ah yes, that. No phone calls or email waiting for me at home. Bliss.<br /><br />So, on with my adventures. I have several interviews set up...the main one I'm planning for is tomorrow - it's the last of several, so here's hoping it goes uber-well. Also meeting with recruiters, and have another interesting interview opp. later this month. That's IF this meeting tomorrow doesn't run like it should. So we'll see.<br /><br />I just feel blessed to have the meetings I've had -- the same week one door closed (with so much finality it made my ears ring), another, prettier door with bright, shiny, stable hinges has swung open wide. Ah, progress.<br /><br />On other fronts, Little is 6 1/2 months, trying to crawl like crazy, grabbing everything within her reach and eating her first solids with her three little teeth. So big already - makes me want to cry. Monkee is still an excellent big sis - we try to give her individual attention on a regular basis. She's a smart one...she is always a step ahead of us, so we're good. She turns 5 in May. Agh. Now that seems crazy. Seeing Little with all Monkee's old toys reminds us daily of when Monkee was a wee one. She loves stories of "when she was a baby." Not much jealousy - she's just resigned to having to share her space and us.<br /><br />We've decided to switch her school, again. Poor kid. We're just not happy with the place she is now...every school has its issues, it has just come down to what issues we, as parents, have some control over. So we're moving her again. It took months to get her used to the new school. I'm dreading the change, but its what's best.<br /><br />Cross your fingers and toes for me - I need to get the job thing settled.<br />In the meantime, here's hoping for more sunny days I can spend outside with the kiddlings.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-83527624553486418812009-03-24T21:34:00.001-05:002009-03-24T21:36:47.846-05:00We have a winner!I asked my darling daughter (the one old enough to talk) to pick a number between one and three. She picked....one. Adam, the tickets are yours.<br /><br />I'll leave your name at will call and will email you the details.<br /><br />Thanks for playing!Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-65758987628448947422009-03-14T07:54:00.004-05:002009-03-14T12:36:17.586-05:00Disney on Ice - ticket GIVEAWAYCan you believe it? I have an actual, bona-fide giveaway!<br /><div></div><div>I have a family 4-pack of tickets for the Kansas City Disney on Ice event - <a href="http://disney.go.com/disneyonice/magicaljourney/index.html">Mickey & Minnie's Magical Journey.</a></div><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgctGCeUGm26-_Zg8zIcW2hyphenhyphenmvj5aT8wi3P5apPB-OEeuYwz2WG1THp-_O_7MGHa52f94AKTBZCetj8-6TcH50B1oKHn7hhc_4NLUSE26SbOqiwbVc2aQHY0fTptdS0fn7NFaFuuw/s1600-h/7832a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313029399254128098" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgctGCeUGm26-_Zg8zIcW2hyphenhyphenmvj5aT8wi3P5apPB-OEeuYwz2WG1THp-_O_7MGHa52f94AKTBZCetj8-6TcH50B1oKHn7hhc_4NLUSE26SbOqiwbVc2aQHY0fTptdS0fn7NFaFuuw/s200/7832a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The tickets will only be good for the first two nights of the show (April 1st and 2nd). Show is at Kemper Arena at 7pm. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>If you win, the tickets will be placed at will call by the company providing them for the giveaway.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>All you need to do, is comment. I'll randomly choose a winner.</div><div> </div><div>ps - contest open until the 21st (next Saturday).</div><br /><div></div>Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-92047304131234837392009-02-25T21:38:00.005-06:002009-02-25T21:55:34.792-06:00Ok, you can hate me now...I had my dear Chee drag up the "pre-pregnancy pants" tub from the basement last night. And joy of all joys, I can fit into the majority of those things.<br /><br />My dear friend <a href="http://www.surrenderdorothyblog.com/">Rita</a> lent me several pair of jeans I have been dutifully wearing ever since prego pants sagged on me. When those jeans started to sag, I had a nightmarish vision of having to come up with the cash to buy new britches. Then, my post-pregnancy, sleep-deprived brain remembered - the "tubs in the basement." Where all pre-preggers clothes supposedly went to die. I just knew I'd never fit into my "pre" clothes. After all, everyone says that after the second, their bodies never went back.<br /><br />Here's the kicker - I haven't worked out once and I eat everything I get my hands on. And I'm still back into the pre pants, and Little is only 5 months old this weekend.<br /><br />I know breastfeeding is a big part of the equation. I'm sure that once I stop, if I keep eating like I am now, the preggers pants may have to make a comeback. Ugh.<br /><br />But I am here to tell you, internets - my genetics are freakin' awesome. (Thanks, mom.)<br /><br />So when you see me in my "skinny" jeans, feel free to hate me. And my genes.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-78602162532195799772009-02-11T22:10:00.002-06:002009-02-11T22:23:09.343-06:00Exhaustion reignsHave you ever been so tired that you look at spilled water (or juice or milk) on the floor and catch yourself thinking "it can wait until morning?"<br /><br />I'm ashamed to admit it, but I have done this more than once the last several weeks. Little is still not sleeping through the night - she can get a good 5 hours in. She's so tired when she gets home from school (way too much stimulation) that she sleeps from 6:30 or so until 11. I take her up to bed, and she wakes up for food. Then sleeps until 3-ish, then until 6. We're missing that quality cereal-eating time that would (hopefully) fill her up to help her sleep better. I'm not sure how to handle it...i don't want to wake her up to eat (that would so piss her off), but she digs on her cereal...i suppose it's all guesswork right now.<br /><br />And i'm working a lot. This was my first week of a new, 34 hr-wk schedule. But there is so much going on this week, that I'll be way over (which means, technically, I won't get paid for those hours over 34). I am complaining, but not loudly. I'm thrilled to have a job and be busy. So I'll suck it up - it's not like I'm the only one at my job who is working over my "allotted" hours right now. It's part of the gig.<br /><br />Once the schedule is really set, I'm hoping I'll have more time to get stuff done around the homestead. This place is a pit (maybe becuase of spilt milk?). I'm about ready to spring clean the shit out of this place. Give me a babysitter and a warm weekend -- the kids and Chee are getting kicked out and I'm throwing out most things that aren't nailed down. I'm tired of walking over and around things constantly. I think just the thought of what I'm not getting done at home is making me more tired...And since there is no new house in sight for us right now, purging is the next best thing. Wish me luck. Garage Sale, anyone?Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-72451328876524939232009-02-05T20:04:00.000-06:002009-02-05T20:06:35.467-06:00Pixies with AttitudeEspecially my monkee. Check it, yo!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXOvbWEngDPE02oLbyUJHtm4so9ocY_Z4_z1hPUwZO5p4TydNOrKEswXX3G8d7yEFkjkAanL-sXuKWnrQQSLaL3rvUCU7F7suGCmXJpLrnq44JUJXWg18pnnm_TMiC0LhZ8tH-A/s1600-h/pixiesw.attitude.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299499758147250962" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXOvbWEngDPE02oLbyUJHtm4so9ocY_Z4_z1hPUwZO5p4TydNOrKEswXX3G8d7yEFkjkAanL-sXuKWnrQQSLaL3rvUCU7F7suGCmXJpLrnq44JUJXWg18pnnm_TMiC0LhZ8tH-A/s200/pixiesw.attitude.JPG" border="0" /></a>Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-59214401424772832822009-02-05T19:50:00.002-06:002009-02-05T19:58:47.482-06:00Searching for a schoolSo Little is 4 months now, and her first tooth just came in. I forgot how soggy babies are...not just diaper, but drooly! And I'm pleasantly surprised that I don't mind one bit. Monkee is a little grossed out by it, but doesn't really mind.<br /><br />We moved Monkee into a new school - Montessori. While i like the teaching method, and her teacher, the asst. teacher is a loud, seemingly worthless lump. Who, i ask you, in a teaching environment (especially Montessori) yells at 4 yr olds? Anyway, Monkee seems to be doing well in the classroom. We're not convinced that she will be there into Kindergarten. We're really just testing the waters. I'm not thrilled with the atmosphere beyond the the classroom. After-care sucks, and the summer program is a little too unknown (meaning no one seems to be able to tell me really what goes on) for our comfort level. We may just take her back to her old Preschool for the summer.<br /><br />We have two other potential Kindergarten options. One a charter, one a private. Both excellent options and both have things about them that make us uncomfortable. It's incredibly important to make the right decision, since Little will be going wherever her sister goes. And some of our options require the child to be a kindergartener to enroll (no one over the age of 5 can apply).<br /><br />The drama of trying to find a decent education that won't milk us dry, in a city with a horrible public school system. Such fun.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-80149464182895618962008-12-09T22:55:00.005-06:002008-12-09T23:02:20.197-06:00Just a bit of pressure reliefI've heard from several friends lately that they are keeping up with me by reading this blog.<br /><div> </div><div>So - I suck.</div><br /><div>I have been meaning to write once a week, and failed miserably. Instead of kicking myself, I'll just post cute kid pix and be forgiven, right?<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2EfrHLYNuGAHQ6nDUqsefcMBKZ-eMh6inyJPc6sCGp9EJomjwmkittMFwK7UyUQaL1J7j6R8x9AF3bBpPbioHl4mUjPPAnoqXetgqhu2xSWARsQoVIgKXhafODFUPlci7ulJNw/s1600-h/S&E+12.9.08+005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278021265034854482" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2EfrHLYNuGAHQ6nDUqsefcMBKZ-eMh6inyJPc6sCGp9EJomjwmkittMFwK7UyUQaL1J7j6R8x9AF3bBpPbioHl4mUjPPAnoqXetgqhu2xSWARsQoVIgKXhafODFUPlci7ulJNw/s200/S&E+12.9.08+005.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div>*check out the killer double chin - like you could miss it. Chee and I laughed our asses off at this photo. Our little cuties...and i'm sure Little will leave the Winston Churchill stage soon.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Now THIS is how to wear a tutu.</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJ8OC65Nq76hfqkJOvcN6UuQlEtkN8K4rELq8Mm2wcjhxpDOR_SjoIiCnaquCDThn4TQro6diV9nnJsGOorXBekzkCw9LU5Enh6Ig2vxsX3lz7tWzAjevSNi7AiCL9sIm4RnCSA/s1600-h/S+tutu+5+1208.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278021786623024498" style="WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJ8OC65Nq76hfqkJOvcN6UuQlEtkN8K4rELq8Mm2wcjhxpDOR_SjoIiCnaquCDThn4TQro6diV9nnJsGOorXBekzkCw9LU5Enh6Ig2vxsX3lz7tWzAjevSNi7AiCL9sIm4RnCSA/s200/S+tutu+5+1208.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div>Who says she's a girly girl?<br /></div><br /><div></div>Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-72018167098907312652008-11-15T14:33:00.005-06:002008-11-15T14:59:28.513-06:00Starting anewIt's a quiet Saturday - cold enough outside for snow, and it looks like we could get some any minute. We're snug inside - Chee and Monkee crashed for a nap and Little is in her swing, slowly falling asleep. And I should be catching up on my zzzzs as well, but found compelled to write up something. I told myself I start posting again at least once a week.<br /><br />A crazy few months here, acclimating to having one more human and two less pets around. The baby arrived on Sept. 29. We had planned on inducing, but she came without any needed - four hours and she came hollering into the world. She's a good baby - our main issue is that she feels compelled to cry herself to sleep. Nothing we do helps. She gets tired, and it makes her madder than hell. But at almost 7 weeks, she's looking at us (instead of through us), smiling and "playing." She loves to look at her big sister, who complies by being as silly as possible for entertainment purposes only, of course.<br /><br />This picture is the first one we took at home of the girls. Note the exhausted mom in the red shirt. That couch was my sanctuary for two weeks before I started feeling like myself again.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1rwXepxY3zsM2YZIFmQ5hNTu3yfwcXH3At3oSeuQqOPiBz4xMIkbdGBPPLQ9E-pVO784flCWe2mCOR7JsyZ9-UBTr6AgIOV1VLUyXePN_p9aa2FhVTjxZshuSA8M9_Gr6dqR4bw/s1600-h/SandE1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268987049745597026" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1rwXepxY3zsM2YZIFmQ5hNTu3yfwcXH3At3oSeuQqOPiBz4xMIkbdGBPPLQ9E-pVO784flCWe2mCOR7JsyZ9-UBTr6AgIOV1VLUyXePN_p9aa2FhVTjxZshuSA8M9_Gr6dqR4bw/s200/SandE1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I had (and still am having) an episode here and there of post-partum D. Nothing like I did with Monkee, but it lingers. The panic attacks are coming around once or twice a week. Deep breaths, settle myself and stop thinking for a minute and they relax a bit. I hate them and how they make me feel, like nothing in my life is solid. Like everything would just float away if it could and I'm powerless to stop it. But it's getting less. I know it would creep in again once I go back to work, which is coming up more quickly than I thought possible.<br /><br />I'll have more pictures to post soon. Little's hair is getting thinner - she has that grandpa hair - none on top, but a ring on bottom. And it's dark brown. Her eyes are still a dark blue - they may stay that way. The girls need at least one of my attributes, seeing as they look so much like their daddy. I just tell him that he looks like a Toddler. Makes me feel better.<br /><br />As for the pet situation - we had to put one of the cats down. She was so ill with GI issues and no medicine or food changes were helping. We had to keep her in the basement. It was no way for her to live, and the GI stuff was just getting worse as she got older.<br /><br />And we had an incident with the dog and Monkee. Monkee was innocent (I was there when it happened), but suffice it to say that the dog can't be around children. We're looking hard for a new home for the dog (she's basically a great dog and we'd keep her if it weren't for this episode) but aren't succeeding yet. A friend is "fostering" her for a few weeks. We might keep her around in the back through the holiday. I don't know. I just hate the thought of having to put her down after almost 6 years. Makes me sick to my stomach. But not as sick as thinking of what happened to Monkee (who is fine now, but scared of dogs). We have to keep the girls in mind first.<br /><br />Something that makes me feel better all-around - the state of our presidency. Hallelujah.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-57375124942979158262008-11-07T11:35:00.000-06:002008-11-07T11:36:30.338-06:00Iconic wordsRumored to be posted in the Obama headquarters are these profound words:<br /><br />Rosa Sat So Martin Could Walk<br />Martin Walked So Obama Could Run<br />Obama Ran So Our Children Can Fly<br /><br />...and that goes for ALL children.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20326917.post-42605809924351164322008-09-22T22:24:00.004-05:002008-09-22T22:47:28.553-05:00Morass from the PastOne week to go, hopefully.<br /><br />I've been thinking about the past lately. My sister called this weekend - she calls every other day, checking to see if I've popped yet. (I keep telling her she'll be one of the first to know, but she obviously either thinks I'm full of shit, or is just doing it to annoy me). She went to an auction in the vicinity of my hometown (auctions are the main social events out there - everyone goes to see what everyone else is up to and selling. You can tell a lot from what people are getting rid of.) Seems she bought a set of dishes from my high school-Junior-year-summer-boyfriend's mom. Got that?<br /><br />The mom thought my sis was me...and was corrected. Then my sis heard an earful about how I was so great and her son really screwed up by letting me get away, etc, etc. I have to say, that was pleasant to hear, and to have my baby sis hear. You see, I was that "good" kid - no partying, basically got along with my parents, good grades, varsity athlete, blah blah blah. That summer's boyfriend was an interesting partier that intrigued me (the guys I really enjoyed dating in HS were completely different from me...its what made them worth spending time with - I was rarely bored). He stopped partying that summer because I didn't. His parents freakin' LOVED me. Then school started, and we went back to our respective schools and lives - kept in touch, though. He got involved in some nasty stuff...I was glad to have moved on. Nothing but bad news there; supposedly he's doing fine now. SO...<br /><br />An old acquaintance (lets call him "H") and friend of said summer b-friend found me through Facebook, which led to me to connecting with a girl I knew well who married a guy in my class. She is a year younger than me, with two kids under seven and she has breast cancer. Her gorgeous, thick hair is gone (for now) and she's heading into some sort of surgery situation, which is still an unknown for her. I can't help but think how I would feel in that situation, and then I can't help but feel so incredibly grateful that I have dodged that bullet so far. And hopefully, dodged it completely.<br /><br />Having H dig me up also led to a finding a recent pix on his Facebook account of an old flame of mine - quite the epic, that relationship. Seems he lives 3 hours from H. Looks so much like I remember his dad looking that it's scary. Sounds like he's happy...and what better thing to wish on someone from your past whom you bear no grudge against.<br /><br />All this morass from the past in about 24 hours. I'm so glad to hear the good about those people whom I haven't thought about in years, and so sad to hear of my old friend's illness. There has to be a reason I found out now. Prayers to her and her family.Fweetiebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11576082276230922695noreply@blogger.com0