Untitled Rant

This post is intended for me to vent. If you are uninterested in a rant, come back later and I am sure there will be some happy knitting related post or something (actually I can guarantee it b/c I need to put up pictures of the finished shawl).

My brother is "home". That is to say, he is staying at my mom's house. His jaw surgery is scheduled for Tuesday. He is going to stay with her until then and then come to my house after surgery to recover.

I stopped by yesterday to see him. He is looking better. The swelling in his face is going down and he is able to get some good fluids in him. His teeth are his main source of pain right now and even talking (especially those sounds where your tongue has to touch your teeth to make them) hurts a lot.

He gave me all of his discharge papers to read so I would know what was going on, and to help explain to him a little what all of his follow up appts and instructions were for.

Yesterday was his first night out of the hospital. Amazingly, my mom and he listened to me when I said, "Make a chart for his medication(s) and check them off when he takes them." He has multiple medications for pain and infection fighting. Some are every 4 hours, some every 6, etc. They are all in liquid form so he can't use one of those pill-counter box things to keep track. It is very important that he stay on top of his pain so that it does not get out of control. If he is not able to manage the pain, he runs the risk of misusing the medication and possible becoming addicted.

So.......I stopped by yesterday. Then I went grocery shopping and came home. He was looking forward to watching the Packers play last night. I decided to call over there after I got the groceries put away (around 11PM). I just wanted to see how he was and let them know I'd probably come by today after Mass.

My mom's husband answered the phone. He was obviously drunk. She was "out with her friends". JT was sleeping. I endured 15 minutes of his babble, mostly to try and ask about JT. Her husband joked about how he was "babysitting". He also said, "Well, the chart is here and he should have had his medicine an hour ago. But he's been sleeping for hours. I am not waking him up. He is being rejuvenated." I asked him, well kind of tried to convince him, to wake him up. But, of course, in his drunken excellence he knows everything and told me it would just be best to let him sleep as long as he can.

This is a point I really pounded into my mother before she brought him home from the hospital (and one of the reasons I am glad he stayed there as long as he did). Pain management and infection control are VERY IMPORTANT. Important enough to wake someone up for. He needs to take the meds on time, every time.

As you can imagine, I am very frustrated. I cannot believe that it is that hard to stay home with your son and take care of him. I can't imagine anyone NOT wanting to do everything they can for their child (adult child or kid) in this situation. It isn't like she has to go to work, or has any little ones to take care of. Her only "job" really in this caretaker situation is to make sure she wakes him up to take medication if he is sleeping. When he is up, he seems to have a pretty good handle on using the chart and knowing when he needs to take meds. Oh, and maybe she has to throw some milk and carnation instant breakfast in a blender a few times a day.

Is that really so hard? For your son? I just don't get it. I know part of that has to do with the bonds I have developed with my children that she just doesn't have with us (my brother and I). I know that part of it is her history of abandonment with us. I know that she really doesn't know how to relate to anyone, especially her children, in a *normal* situation. It still really bothers me a lot.

This is a situation where it is completely acceptable and appropriate to focus attention and care on your adult child. Unfortunately, she spends so much time giving him inappropriate attention/care that now she feels like it is just "too much". (In the "not hit by a car" life - she enables my brother's addictions and enables him to not have a job/grow-up/be an adult. Most of the time she caters to his every whim, chauffeuring him around and buying him whatever he needs, be it cigarettes, toilet paper, food, clothes, or booze.)

I am just feeling really frustrated and a little helpless right now. I am very angry with my mom. The worst part is, I am sure she was out drinking. So not only did she leave my brother alone with her drunk husband for hours on end, by the time she got home last night, she was probably drunk too and unable to give optimal care to my brother. What a great example to try and help him NOT DRINK while he is recovering, right? Yeah.

But I am sure she convinced herself she "deserved" a night out since she'd been going to the hospital to visit him everyday. Uh-huh. Because when you put time in taking care of someone you (supposedly) love it's just so you can "earn" time to yourself. Right. And take off when they actually need you, when there aren't any nurses or doctors to come in and check on him.

One of *Those* Nights

My children are driving me crazy.

My belly aches. It's heavy. And my ligaments are all being pulled. I feel sore.

I have to pee every 5 minutes. And it's only like a tablespoon. Annoying.

Right now my 2 toddlers are wrestling/arguing over some toy car on the floor in their room. I am completely unmotivated to stop it. She won't let go of his truck, and he won't let go of her.

The dog seems very relaxed. He is laying on the couch. Just kind of grrrred to himself, probably from the noise of the kids.

Just yelled at the Flower to give him the truck and come here.

It didn't work.

Big kid and Dad are playing some racing video game downstairs. It sounds like a big fan is swirling around the house.

Wow, I have never seen the toddlers so angry.

What's it going to be like when I have another??

She finally listened and came here. I told her to play with the stroller and her babies.

What are my kids doing up this late, you ask? Oh, I haven't told you yet?

I don't sleep when I am pregnant. Therefore, my kids don't sleep well either. As much as I try to put them to bed earlier than myself (at a regular time), they just fall into my pattern and stay up with me. They do eventually go to sleep, usually a few hours before me. The bonus of them going to bed at 12 is that they sleep till 11. So if I don't fall asleep until 4 or 6 (or later lots of mornings) I at least get to sleep till 10 or 11 every morning. Not so great when I fall asleep at 7, but at least everybody else is asleep.

Now Lovey has his truck and Flower is crying. Gotta run.

Sorry for the dump. Just had to tell someone. Sometimes it sucks. It will not always be like this, I know. But right now......*sigh*.

(And now she's happy again. Hug from Dad fixes it all.) :)

Progress, and A Complaint

First: Progress. Here is the baby sweater.

I kind of wish I had saved the garter stripe at the top (in the yoke) for under the arms/yoke. But it's still cute. I toyed around with some other ideas, and then a phrase of my husband's crossed my mine. "Keep It Simple, Stupid." Simple really is best. So a stockinette sweater it is. I am currently working on one of the sleeves.

It did end up a little wider/longer than a newborn. Mostly because I convinced myself that it would be better if it was "a little too big".

And now: A complaint.

Can I just sleep already? Wtf is wrong with me? I hate being pregnant. I just want to sleep. I only have to do this for nine more weeks and then I can sleep.

I know what you're thinking: "How are you going to sleep with a newborn? They don't really sleep for long periods of time."

I know. But at least with the newborn in my arms and not my belly I CAN GET COMFORTABLE AND FALL ASLEEP. Even if it's only for 45 minutes. At least I'll be knocked out and in a comfy position.

Ok, rant over. Sorry to dump. I am just soooooo sick of not getting any sleep. It sucks.

I Need A Chick

This is what I told my husband yesterday in the midst of an angry breakdown. I just need a chick to talk to.

It wasn't that he wasn't good enough. He's just not a woman (thank God!). And there was no one to talk to. And I fell apart.

My BFF (ha! I love using "in" language) has breast cancer. Not that that particular problem would keep us from talking, she actually has relatives visiting and I just don't want to bother her. And I have to mention the cancer because I am concerned I will lose her. There. I said it.

My other friend never seems to be able to talk when I call.

My best knitting buddy ever is moving in two weeks 2 1/2 hours north of my house. Craptacular.

We went to Mass at a parish closer to our house this weekend. 20 minutes to the church vs. 1 1/2 hours to our regular parish. It was awful. Let me elaborate:

How many EMC do you need when there are only 100 people in attendance (they had 8!!)?

Why were the EMC's consuming the host at the same time as the priest did (yes, he actually handed it out to them before he consumed it himself)?

Why didn't we sing the "Alleluia" before the Gospel? Or any of the other things we normally sing at a Sunday Mass (all were spoken, like a weekday Mass)?

We were out of there in thirty minutes. 3-0. On The Feast Day of Corpus Christi.

I left wondering if I attended a valid Mass. I also was so very distracted by the lack of reverence that I found myself unable to really participate in the Mass. I prayed afterward, in front of the Tabernacle, and asked Jesus to forgive me for being distracted and to forgive those in the parish for their disrespect. I asked him to help me be closer to him even when I don't "feel" like I am.

And then I had the shittiest day ever.

I got in a big pissing match with my husband over his attention to our biological children vs his biological children. I was very much picking a fight for I-don't-know-why. Then I tried to call somebody to just get it off my chest and there was no one.

My pelvis was heavy and hurting all day. I tried really hard to talk to my husband (when there wasn't any women available) about this and he just said, "Well duh. You're pregnant." I KNOW I"M PREGNANT. HELLO! I just needed to talk to someone (a chick, a mom) who would understand that even though I was very much excited for this new life within me, it still sucks feeling like your insides are going to fall out your bottom all day. It sucks having another human have the hiccups near your butt. Your butt shouldn't be shaking from the inside. Seriously.

I ended up driving into the big city anyway later that evening to get groceries. I calmed down. There was still no one to talk to. I tried calling my husband. And get this, he said "For someone who has so much Faith, maybe you should just let Him take care of it for a while." Can you believe it?! The nerve. Oh wait a minute. He was totally right. So I stopped trying to call every (three people) person I could and just sat in the quiet. It wasn't working. So I put on Relevant Radio (do they have that where you are? Awesome, Catholic radio). That was better.

There are still issues, and for some reason I am not sleeping at night. But the anger is out of me.

And now, to back-track a little, what do I do about the Mass? Do you just go somewhere else (I will)? Am I supposed to say something? Do I call the priest and (respectfully) ask him about my concerns? Do I write him a letter about my experience? Do I write to the Bishop (who is at my regular parish)? As a "young" Catholic, I am a little lost about what would be appropriate. I just thought the whole thing was weird (and distracting) (and irreverent). My husband thought it was just different and thinks I need to let it go.

Sorry not to have a point here.....I just needed to vent and ramble. Thanks. Sometimes I just need a chick. Which is why I have bloggers (ok, I know at least one of you is a guy, my apologies). My husband actually asked me the other night why I have so many blogs bookmarked on my phone. It's because I love you guys. You keep me sane.

LYS Trip

(As I mentioned in the last post) I got to go to a LYS** by myself. It was lovely.

**By LYS, I mean a LYS in the big city, ok a suburb south of the big city, 2 hours from my home. It's just the way the timing of the day worked out.

I got there around 2:30 and they didn't close until 5. Over 2 hours. To shop, knit. Alone. No kids. No nagging husband (love you babe!). It was just wonderful.

I spent a long time walking around just looking at the yarn. My husband said I could buy yarn, but I was convinced I would just fight the urge and look at it. I have enough yarn at home. It was still pretty to look at and feel. They had a huge wall of just sock yarn. It was gorgeous.

After I gazed, and stared at, and felt the yarn for who knows how long, I went to look at buttons. I specifically needed buttons to match this sweater. I found them.

Then, I went back to the yarn. Then I looked at the books. Then back to the yarn. I decided I needed to get away from the yarn if I was going to resist the urge to buy any. I picked up a pattern.....The Wonderful Wallaby....which I have already knit but I had borrowed the patterned from my friend and she is moving (we'll talk about that later). I want to knit it again, so I figured it was worth the money.

I had the LYS worker hold the buttons and pattern for me and went to the "coffee shop" side of the store to sit and knit. There were 5 other women sitting and knitting. Even though I didn't know any of them I had a blast!! We talked and knit and talked and knit some more. It was so wonderful to just sit and do something I enjoyed and have a conversation with adults without being interrupted.

Really. I should do that more often. The ladies even told me that they are they every Saturday and Sunday if I thought I wanted to stop by again. I love knitters.

At 5 minutes to 5:00pm, I went to pay for my iced tea, buttons, and pattern. I was not buying any yarn. I did not need any Malabrigo Sock Yarn, or Handpainted Mountain Colors Yarn. No, not me. No expensive yarn purchases here.

I decided to get some stitch markers. Can you see what they say? (the pic's a little blurry) One says "SSK" and the other "M1". Cool. Impluse buy. But cool. I wanted some of these the last time I was there.

I also picked up these US size 0 (2mm) 9" circular needles. I am going to try them on some socks. I don't know if I'll like them, or if they will just cramp up my hands.

Wait, w'a's that? Is that a skein of local handpainted yarn? All by itself? No matching skeins? I can't leave it alone, can I? It's so pretty. It's merino. It's worsted. It would make a lovely pair of longies. But it's only one skein. Ha! It's only $14! Handpainted yarn!! 220 yards! Well, maybe something around here will match.....oh look.....Cascade 220.....inexpensive but good wool....this would make a lovely trim for the waistband and legs.....sheesh, could be boy or girl......bet I could dye a shirt to match......only 7 bucks for the Cascade.....yeah I should get it.....hubby said I could buy yarn.....what a great deal.........

And I left the store with this too:

It really is quite lovely. And wasn't expensive. I managed to leave the store and only spend roughly $40-50. That is pretty good. There was sooooo much wonderful wooly, alpaca, cashmere-ness in that store to buy. I am proud of myself. Two skeins. And some needles and buttons. And a pattern (just one). And stitch markers (just two, but functional).

All in all, a lovely day. (Followed by a lovely evening dinner with moms from my homeschool group to celebrate another new life!!)

(*****Oh, and if blogger takes out my formatting, or changes it, or screws it up, I am really sorry. I had paragraphs in here. Reasonably spaced ones at that. It always does this when I upload pictures. Sorry. And it bothers me. A lot. Rant over.*****)

Dear Walgreens,

WTF? What happened to us? We had such a good relationship. You were dependable, always there when I needed you.

For the past year and a half I have enjoyed coming to see you every week, sometimes every two weeks. I thought about you everyday and reached for your trinkets often.

Did you really think you weren't good enough for me? Did you really think I would stray?

I have been faithful to you. I have bragged about your strengths to my friends and talked you up to the other moms every chance I got. I never faultered in my unwaivering devotion to you. I thought we'd be together forever.

But you changed. I used to think of you as reliable. In fact, no one could hold a candle to the place you achieved within my heart. Now the only words I can use to describe you are smelly, saggy, and leaky. You're size has exploded. Even the kids don't want you around anymore.
Your "New and Improved" diapers suck.

Weirdness & Confusion

I read quite a few knitting blogs. (No, this entire post isn't about knitting. If you keep reading, hopefully I'll make a point about some interesting political/religious fare.) I have some over in my sidebar, which desperately needs updating. Even though it is titled "Blogs I Actually Read", there are some over there that I have stopped reading and many more that I read that aren't there.


Quite a few of the blogs I read, I read on my phone. Consequently, when trying to find new material to read, I search out and find new blogs to read usually from other bloggers' side bars. This has worked pretty well to up my knitting reading list from 2-4 blogs to about 20.


I have found some interesting things about knitters and people in general. I believe the knitting population represents a reasonably good sample of the average population. I say this because most of us knitters are your average, normal, trying to be "good" type people with our various (and common) flaws that make us who we are. Most of the knitters I've run into on the blogsphere try not to comment too much politically or religiously, which I also find to be pretty common with the general population.


Of course, there are exceptions.


There are those who lean so far to the extreme one way or another that they feel their views need to penetrate every facet of their life *cough*ahem*cough* (I never do that....). As such, I have run into some, well let's say stimulating posts out there in the knitting world. As I refuse to be a troll on someone else's blog and their opinions, my first reaction when I encounter these blatant refusals to see the world for what it really is (a Battleship with Christ as my Caption which I am aboard) to simply "delete" them from my reading list.


But, since I do have my own blog to voice my own opinions (ain't that nice?), I can at least come here and mention to you some of the weirdness and confusion I have encountered.


Weirdness. Almost every knitting blogger has a cat. Really. WTF? Do I have to get a cat now? They are only good for keeping mice away (and a lot of them can't even do that). Who wants to clean up cat litter? Then again, you don't have to let them outside and they don't need too much of your attention, ever - unless it's time that they "decided" belongs to them. (I do not own a cat, but lived for a few years with an Aunt who had 3. Annoying buggers.) (P.S. I don't think owning a dog is any better, but for different reasons. And yes, we have a dog. Not my idea, thankyouverymuch.)


And then we have confusion. I define confusion as simply not being able to accept Revealed Truths. This can result in major confusion with choices you are presented with in life and also confusion on ordering priorities.


I have a dear friend (Christian, of course) who has no other definition for h0m0sexuality other than "confusion". I like this definition, as it seems to hit home rather well. There is some serious confusion going on there and a refusal to accept Revealed Truths - due to same confusion and society's pressure to order priorities as you see or "feel" fit.


Anywho....back to confusion.


I should say here that I do not mind reading posts on knitting blogs that are not about knitting. In fact, I actually like hearing (a little) about the bloggers other going-ons in life, their family, work, etc. I obviously really like getting my fiber fix from these folks, but if you want to tell my about Aunt Nettie's new house, or your teenager's new attitude, by all means....it's your blog. It's nice to know a little bit about the person holding the needles.


Recently I encountered a blog post wherein the author expressed her "outrage" at the treatment, or rather lack-there-of, of animals in zoos in China. She links to an article (didn't bother to read it myself) about animals dying of starvation in Chinese zoos. Then goes on to say that she doesn't know what kind of movement it takes to stop these things from happening, but she's going to find one. I should give her credit (and this I mean in a nice way) for making a fleeting comment about China's human rights record not being so good either.


Um.....confusion.


China's human rights don't exist. In a country where baby girls are aborted and/or left in the road to die more than I could believe is humanly possible, I would say that they do not have a "human rights record". I pretty much disqualify them as a place where human rights matter at all. I don't even like using the words "human rights". It is simply the Right to Life. If you do not respect the Right to Life, you don't respect anything.


What bothers me about this particular post is that her "outrage" is that ANIMALS are dying. Animals. In zoos. Really?? That's what bothers you? It just reminds me of all the "Save the Baby Whales" crap, "Save the Spotted Owl", "Save the Harp Seal". People are seriously confused.


How about you pretend that baby human over there is a harp seal and save her, mmm'kay?? Or pretend she's a tree? Or whatever else effed-up, not-as-important-as-another-human-being thing you'd like to pick to "save" and put that much much effort into saving all the HUMAN lives that are lost each year to abortion. Ok?


So, naturally, I deleted this blog immediately from my reading list.

Another (and this seems a little less important now that I've ranted about saving the whales) post I pulled up recently on a knitting blog also caught my attention and is slated for deletion. In an otherwise normal seeming knitting blog the author, on Easter, or maybe the day after, proudly reports that since neither her or her husband are Christian they are "free to do as they please" on Easter Sunday.

Oh? How nice? As though the rest of us who do believe the Truth are somehow not free to do as we please? Or are somehow being forced to participate in the celebration(s) of Our Lord's Resurrection? Come on. Pu-lease. People act like there is some kind of bondage involved with BELIEVING. Not like you could actually enjoy knowing the Truth. Not like you could willingly show up at Mass (or whichever services you attend) because you want to. Obviously, it's all out of guilt or repression. Yep.

I think I gotta delete her too. Sad.

I think maybe this one does bother me a bit. It seems we've gotten to a place in our society and culture where the only discrimination that is acceptable to (almost) everyone is that against Christians. What is up with that? I guess I should expect it. We are reminded even in Sacred Scripture that we will be persecuted. It just kind of sucks that with all the PC crap about trying not to "offend" any one for any reason (which is silly) that there is somehow an unspoken exception to that rule that says, "unless you're offending someone because they believe in God...that one is still OK *thumbs up*."

I promised a point here, didn't I? Well, maybe I don't exactly have one. I will leave you with a summary instead.

Cats are weird.
Save humans, not animals. Get your priorities straight. If you can rally for a "cause", make sure it's not a tree.
Speak out when someone brags about not being Christian.
Expect persecution.

I can do whatever I want on my blog. Even complain.

Yep. That's right. I am going to complain.

**Disclaimer: I am very happy to be alive. I have many good things in my life - a wonderful and loving husband who has steady and gainful employmebt AND does dishes and laundry, healthy children, heat, a roof over my head, two working vehicles, good friends, faith, etc. By no means am I discrediting any of these and other wonderful aspects of my life. I am thankful for my blessings.**

Carrying on.

This week has sucked. Sucked a big one. I know that really isn't a very creative use of the mass vocabulary I have available to use, but it's all I got left.

Since last Friday:

Boys cutting and splitting wood. Throw wood in back of truck. Teeny, tiny piece of wood makes it through grill protecting back window. Window shatters. More falls off each time we shut the door.

Meeting with Guardian Ad Litem (GAL) in custody case falls through. Because - he is sick but doesn't bother to call and tell anyone. I arrange childcare, in a snow storm, lose control of my car and end up in a ditch, borrow a friend's car, and still manage to make it there on time only to be told, "See, the thing is, Andy's sick." WTF! And you just figured this out 5 minutes ago? What, you lawyer people with secretaries can't pick up the effin' phone??!! What I said outloud was, "Completely Unprofessional."

Nausea is so bad I can't cook, clean, or eat. I don't even want to knit. I know. I lnow.

Yesterday, boys cutting wood. Son gets hand crushed in log splitter. Drive 1/2 hour to hospital. Prayers lead to good ending. Only 1 finger hurt, bone chipped, drill a hole in fingernail (ewww!), bandage up. Leave. Stop for dinner. Boy asks for puppy. Endured "People of Walmart" stares while at hospital and dinner. Left house without getting dressed. No bra. Tie-dyed nightshirt. Too big pants. Hippy shoes and stripey socks. No shoes on little kids, but they did have coats. Hair not brushed. Teeth and breath bad.
Putting chopped onions into a pan with olive oil resulted in a hot drop of oil flying out of the pan INTO MY EYE. I don't know how, but my eyelid shut and I just got a burn on the lid, and not my actiual eyeball.

I wasn't wearing my glasses because my one-year had seriously smudged then in the previous hour while I tried to get him to sleep. My efforts were fruitless. He ended up biting me on the inside of my thigh.

Today, same child got a hold of a can of soda and threw it. It exploded and spewed all over my living room and kitchen.

Ok. I'm done.

If you want to read a real blog post, go visit Candy over at Candy Rant (see sidebar, can't get a link right now). She had a good one about embarrassment. I left a comment that I could have made a post about - but I didn't. Said week has been too sucky.

Come back next time for something more cheery.

Quiet Here

I realize it's been a better part of a week and I have not posted, despite my continuing promises of knitting pictures and a conversion story.

I am still here, just not getting to the real internet with a real computer.

In fact, I am typing this post at a wayside on a back highway road, with my blackberry (sorry for those typos), waiting for my husband's ex-wife to show up with our daughter.

I am a bit angry, irritated, and mad. I do not know why I let this sorry excuse for a mother bother me. But I do. I try to be grqcious. I think, "I should pray for her.". I do sometimes. But I still feel like killing thing everytime I have to interact with her.

It's as though all the puppies have lost their cuteness. Her stupidity has sucked all the sparkles out of the rainbow -they've deflated to little dried up pieces of fruit snacks, the generic ones where they all have they same crappy flavor even though they're all different shades of yuk.

Not to mention that she's late and she thinks she's doing us a favor.

She is a piece of mashed up kid chewed pig guts.

Can you tell I don't like her?

Oh! Here she is. Yeah.

In which mean girls exist beyond junior high

Yes. That's right. You can be almost 30 (I am almost 30) and still have Mean Girls around every corner.

Recently, this was brought to my attention in a rather unexpected way. I had forgotten all about "girl world". I had lived through all sorts of hard stuff in my personal life, my marriage, my friendships.

But I never thought a group of homeschooling women would be a threat.

I was wrong.

It's been over a week, and I am still bothered enough that I steam through a shower thinking of the things I would like to say to this woman's face if I ever bother to see it again.

Women are mean. In particular, you can think that you have a very close, secure, and loyal friendship only to find out that it is shallow and meaningless at best.

The details are too much to hash out, although I know some of you would be darned interested in hearing them. If I could muster the strength at this point, I would.

I managed to "turn the other cheek" for an entire week before I blew up at the leadership team of this particular homeschool group. And when I say blew up - I mean it. Verbal vomit. I didn't swear, but I think that's just because it's not as much fun to do that through email (which was how they contacted me).

I am not a fan of email for important communications. It's a very passive-aggressive way of communicating that allows people to combine words and tone that would never happen in real life: "We are so sorry if you're offended. We are not singling you out. We love you. By the way, don't come to Mass. Have a wonderful Christmas!!"

Really?! Can we be a little more 5th grade?

Ugh.

Well, I promise things should be shaping up here around the new year. I am looking into getting a modem for my laptop from my cell phone company. That should spiff things up and get me back to blogging.

For now......you just get random, when I have time kinda stuff.

Sorry.

I Have A Blog??

Surely you jest.

This cannot be my blog. Surely not - for there is emphasis on the my. We all know I cannot do that.

Oh, but wait. I am on actual internet. Internet that does not require me to *star* and CAPITALIZE things I want to accentuate.

I thank my dear friend, laurazim, for the use of her PC.

Now......for the important stuff.

I am hopefully going to update my sidebar as soon as I am done with this post. There are many a wonderful, entertaining, informative blog I have added to my bookmarks on the crackberry that I would like to add here.

An update was requested, I believe by fellow blogger linked above in a comment on my last post.

~~Rural living is very special.

• My gas and electric bill are now separate
• In fact, I have to order the gas, AND it's propane
• The people who work at the propane place are rather dense
• I have a septic system requiring me to call and have our waste pumped away
• Weird
• Garbage must be driven in to "town" on Saturdays, they do not pick it up
• $2 per bag! But "recycle" is free
• We are now recycling for the first time ever
• When the wind blows and you live in the middle of nowhere.....will anyone hear you scream?
• It's nice when you have a cop on hand to escort you into the house in the middle of the night with his 9mm when there are rabid horses stalking you from the neighboring field
• Wind storms can knock the electricity out for hours at a time in the middle of the night
• Not so great when your husband needs electricity to run his CPAP machine so he can rest

Other than that all is well.

Ok, maybe not.

~~A devastating tragedy has afflicted our family over the last few months. One of my step-daughters has been the victim of a sexual assault. It has waged a spiritual battle in our family. Not only has it caused much stress for her, but my husband is beside himself with grief, guilt, and sadness.

Trying to deal with the consequences of the circumstances has caused even more hardship in our family. We are fighting tooth and nail to gain primary physical placement of our daughter. Her mother obviously opposes this. We have shared placement of both the girls equally for 7 years. However, with the assault having taken place in the township (less than 3000 people) where her mother lives, and under her mother's care, we have decided she would be physically and emotionally safer under or care and OUT of that school district.

The hardship of having to travel back and forth to the courthouse and lawyer's office with my babies in the car has begun to drive me to the brink of insanity. Not to mention the constant vigil answering the phone calls between the police, lawyer, social workers, counselor, school officials, and her mother. I can't even stand it.

Unfortunately for our daughter, her mother doesn't really see the "problem". Some comments we have gotten from her (and I am not exaggerating or joking here):

"We should just put her on birth control."

"I don't know why you feel so sorry for [her], she wanted this to happen."

"No one will talk about it. They'll be over it soon."

"If you tell the cops it will just cause everyone a lot more trauma."

"Kids will be kids."

Seriously. She's 13. The "offender", as the District Attorney is calling him, is 18. Yep. And her mother sees no problem. Didn't want us to go to the police. Obviously, getting a predator off the streets would be the last thing on our mind. Yeah, especially since my husband, her father, is a COP. That is the last thing we'd do. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

Oh, and the fact that we weren't told about it as soon as she (the mother) found out - that doesn't bother us at all. No really, it's totally fine for you to wait 10 days to tell us. And then only tell us because our daughter was "supposed to tell" us, but didn't. Of course you should leave it up to a 13 year old victim of a crime to inform her father of the crime. You shouldn't bother picking up the phone, being the adult, and telling him yourself. Nope. You acted like a completely competent, normal, sane parent.

Oh wait. There's more. When he confessed, which he did do after we took our daughter to the police to tell her story, he also confessed to doing this to no less than 3 other girls. Three. Other. Girls. Age of consent in the state I reside in is 16. This miscreant, this fiend, wasn't in a relationship with any of these girls. Not that status would make the act of his addiction OK - but it would explain more. This creep was preying on young girls that were friends of his little sister. Genius. Or scary. Take your pick.

There are more details than I care to recall. And anyway, this is not the appropriate medium for those details. If you know me, ask me sometime about how eye opening it was to read the police report. I still have not shared it with my husband. He knows we have it, but feels it prudent not to lay his eyes upon it.

This is the real reason I haven't blogged much. Well, that and the stubbornness on my part to take the time to blog from my blackberry.

Anything else (other than my very long rant)?

~~Oh yes. I have been knitting - a sweater and a pair of socks. The former for my husband. The latter for the Boy. Did you know that when you are knitting a circumference of 59" a skein of yarn only makes 4" of height? So even though I've been knitting my butt off, the sweater remains a mere 7" in depth. It will be at least 20" to the armpits, then there are two sleeves, and the yoke/shoulders. I only have 7 skeins of yarn. I'm going to need more yarn. That translates to, "I get to visit the knitting store again soon!" Woot-woot for me!

The socks will probably be done first. :P

~~Flower is the cutest 3 year old ever. She says super cute things and does super cute things.

She is constantly putting all her "babies" to sleep all over the house. She covers them with whatever is handy: a washcloth, a baby wipe, a clean pair of underwear from the laundry basket. You know, whatever looks like a blanket. Her "babies" can also be whatever's handy: a remote, a hairbrush, her "duke", a shoe.

When she wants to be picked up she says, "I want to pick YOU uppie." I ask, "You want to pick ME uppie?" "Yesh," is her answer. Really.

~~Lovey can walk. And run. He has an opinion. He is sick of his sister beating him up. He has a love for steps and a fear for NOTHING. He has a set of curls across the nape of his neck that I could just eat up.

~~If you do not care to hear of fertility issues GO TO THE NEXT SECTION.

I am fertile again. How do I know this? I got my period. For. Ten. Days. 10. T-E-N. It was looooong.

It wasn't that unpleasant, just never ending.

I had to wash pads 4 times.

Yes, I use cloth menstrual pads. No, it's not gross. Yes, I wash them in my washing machine where all my other laundry is done. No, it doesn't bother me. I've used cloth diapers extensively. They feel better against my skin. They are pretty and soft. They make me feel happy and lovely at a time when most likely I would be feeling icky and run down. Organic bamboo velour - look it up.

~~I have been asked (and I may have said something about this already, so forgive me) to be the Confirmation Sponsor for a dear friend's daughter! It was the daughter's Guardian Angel (she tells me) that thought of me. I guess I never expected that I would ever be considered for such an honor as a Sponsor or a Godparent, etc., being that I am myself a new convert.

It's very cool. I am a little nervous as to my exact role and what things I should be doing for her. For now, I pray. I know I can do that. My sponsor was really awesome about answering questions about the Faith, bringing me little presents at important ceremonies throughout the year leading up to my confirmation, sending me cards here and there in the mail with inspirational messages, etc. I hope I can live up to the call.

~~Lawyers are EXPENSIVE. Really. I wish I could charge $200/hour on the phone and $300/hour in person. Although he is very good. But it would be awful expensive for my children to have a mother if I charged those kind of rates. Can you imagine - "Mom, can I ask you a question?" "I don't know, you got 10 bucks?"

~~Cops don't make a lot of money. It's been a year at this cop's salary and we have finally exhausted our savings. It's down to $5. We are praying for a miracle.

~~I am very much looking forward to Mass tomorrow. All Saint's Day beats out Halloween any day in my book.

Blackberry Blogging vs Normal Blogging

Normal: have access to a full keyboard and typing speed of 80 words per minute; thumbs responsible for space bar only

Blackberry: must type entire post with thumbs, requiring more brain power and agility than thumbs are comfortable with and thus reducing my wpm speed to 20

Normal: able to view internet in it's entirety - all links, photos, videos available in an "easy to read" format, making sense

Blackberry: links lost in cyberspace, photos upload in minutes rather than seconds (if at all) and all videos become the word "Flash" with techno babble typed after it

Normal: able to link to other bloggers and websites in an aesthetically pleasing way in my posts

Blackberry: must paste the entire link, if I can even figure out how to produce it on this ¤#*!, thus reducing my blogger savvy points to nil

Normal: can produce italics or even bold font to enhance my readers' understanding of my posts and easily distinguish between sarcasm and normal "speech"

Blackberry: browser is truncated and blogger functions with no buttons leaving me to *star* items of interest or CAPITALIZE ENTIRE PHRASES AS THOUGH I AM YELLING to make my point

Normal: can easily add photographs from the internet or my own collection to supplement the viewing experience of this blog

Blackberry: huh?

Normal: can type and edit numerous posts in one kid-free hour at night and set then up to post automatically throughout the week

Blackberry: must painstakingly type slowly and rack my brain to stay committed to each and every post for no less than 1/2 hour and still have no italics, bold face, links, or photos to show for it all the while listening to my kids try and tear each other apart (which is happening right now) causing me to truncate my post(s)

-H

Just what I wanted to hear.....

I have been out of commission for a few days....ok, maybe like a week or more.

I have managed to get mastitis, again. It is so bad that I actually asked my husband to stay home from work and help out with the kids......AND HE SAID YES. Really.

When he called his boss he told him why he was staying home. As in, "I really hate to call in because I LOVE MY JOB (he totally does), but the wife is really sick and needs my help." Blah, blah, blah from his boss (obviously I can't hear him). My husband says, "Well, she's sick. She has mastitis....where her breast is really red and tender and she has a fever and kind of feels like she has the flu." More from the boss that I can't hear. Then my husband says, laughing, "Yes, cows do get mastitis. People do too."

When he gets off the phone, he explains to me that his boss wasn't aware that people could get mastitis. He sends his condolences because he knows it seems to really be bad in the cows and can't imagine what it would be like for me.

Nice.

Even better is on day 2 of antibiotics for said "cow disease" My Lovey, who has had a fever for almost 4 days, is not getting any better. My boss calls to see how I'm doing with the "cow disease". I tell her OK and give her an update on Lovey. She says his behavior and symptoms sound like and ear infection.....fever, not wanting to lay down, not nursing well (probably how I got cow disease), overall crankiness, etc.

So I decide, "Hey, let's try and get him an appointment to see somebody." Yah. It's only 1pm on Friday afternoon. Should be plenty of openings.

Um, not so much.

First clinic I called didn't have anything available. But they could see us tomorrow. No thank you.

The next clinic had a *lovely* (because I've been told if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all) receptionist who said, "We've got two doctors in. Who does he normally see?" Nobody. Do you have an appointment or not? "Well, it has to go through his Primary." He doesn't have one. "Well, I could take a message and have the triage nurse call you back." Look lady, I just need to see someone who can prescribe antibiotics, m'kay????!!!!

Ok, I didn't say that last part, I just hung up.

We decided just to go to the Urgent Care/ER. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

What I found out during that visit was:

A) He's fine
B) I just lost $60 to find that out
C) Apparently, I'm an idiot, because he's going to die from a childhood illness if I continue to not vaccinate him

The doc says, "Why aren't you vaccinating?" We've chosen not to.

"You know that more kids die from childhood illness every year than from vaccinations?!"

You got evidence to prove that? No? Ok, well we have chosen not to vaccinate.

Reminds me of a friend of mine recently who learned at her daughter's 3 year check up that if another child at the playground bites her she'll probably die. (They've done limited vaccinations.)

Really.

There actually sent someone chasing after me when I got sick of them waiting to come back to my room with "Discharge Instructions".

Probably because I'm such an idiot.

I Did It

I joined Facebook.

I said I wouldn't, but now I have. It's all my husband's fault. And hers.

Sociopath Strikes Again

The woman is mad. She is demented, deranged, illogical, unbalanced, unhinged, non compos mentis.

She does not have touch with reality, but rather her reality. The game....I am not playing. She has now had her "secretary" contact me regarding a previous "issue" wondering if I had received communication about it or not. Consequently, another contact has been made regarding a separate, but just as important, issue.

Words have been chosen carefully, deliberately, cunningly, and shewdly for these contacts.

I will have to decide if recourse is worth my time and talent. Aptitude for dealing with the sociopath, I have much. Patience to make them writhe in their skin....I am learning.

Wish me luck.

It's Official. He's the Obamassiah

Someone finally decided that Barack Obama is God.

I'm glad we got that out of the way. I was a little confused there for a while.

I can't embed the video for whatever reason, so you'll have to click on this link.

Apparently the Hairy-Legged Monster Works for Blogger

So, I just spent 10 minutes uploading my knitting "in the works" onto blogger. Guess what I got? Not pictures of my knitting. I got pictures of some bras I sold online. Argh. I also got this really cute picture of my now 6 month old Lovey.

Isn't he beautiful. So all is not lost. I am just a little irriated that my pictures didn't load up. In fact, I can't even find them AT ALL on the ScanDisk.

But that little face just melts my world.

It's Cold

Yesterday, my family and I braved the cold to go to Mass. Not that we need a medal or anything. I didn't even know how cold it was until we started loading kids in the car. I may have decided to keep everyone home if I had checked the weather beforehand. Ergo the point of this post.

When I did get home and was able to check the weather, it was -4 degrees outside. Negative. Four. The "high" for the day was -3. The low was -10. (Fahrenheit people - I live in America.)

Do we even need these numbers at this point? Can the weather man and The Weather Channel and the internet sites just say, "It's *^!*ing cold out! Stay inside!" Or, a more family friendly way to put that might be, "It's cold beyond all reason. Don't leave the house!"

I mean really, do the numbers mean anything at all once you get to, say, 0? That's already 32 degrees below freezing. The freezer compartment of my refrigeration unit is set at -1. If it's colder than my freezer outside maybe the news stations could say, "If you'd like to warm up after coming in from the #*!%ing cold take a tour of your freezer - 'cause it's warmer in there."

Don't get me wrong. I like to be informed of important upcoming changes in the weather. It's nice to know when a blizzard is coming (like last week and this weekend). But I'm really not sure that I'm getting any more "informed" by knowing that today it's -3 and tomorrow it's going to drop to -15. Am I going to feel a difference? Probably not. I'm just going to say, "#$%* It's COLD!"

~H

Ramblings from the busy Mom....

I just need to ramble a few things today. Bear with me.

Diaper pins. Hate them. I am soooo glad I don't have to use them on a regular basis. As of this moment, I have only had to use them twice (counting right now).

My Lovey is currently wearing not a "diaper" but a flannel receiving blanket. These cannot be secured by my ever-trusty Snappi. No, my friends, flannel cannot be Snappied. You must revert to diaper pins.

Why I am using a receiving blanket? Because I am currently running low on diapers that are the correct size for my ever-growing, very brawny and stout not-so-little baby. He's a giant, for Pete's sake. We all love a good giant around here. He has outgrown all but 9 of the diapers I own. I have traded some items in my home for some new "fluff". But the new fluff has yet to arrive on my doorstep. Right now, I am washing my 9 diapers and waiting it out in a blanket (not me, him).

Back to the diaper pins. They are horrible. How did the previous generations survive? No wonder disposable diapers were such a wonderful relief (aside from the whole not-having-to-wash-them thing). I do know there are some "pin-loving" mamas out there - and I mean no offense to you ladies. But it is very difficult with my squirming baby, what with his constant kicking during changes and all, to push those pins through the fabric without stabbing him and especially ME. (Can you tell that maybe I've stabbed myself once or twice, or everytime!!!?) I can't imagine using this form of fastening for every diaper. I love my Snappie. And I also love, love, love my diapers that have snaps to fasten them, like these and these.

Moving on.....

I got the Jesse Tree up. I, unfortunately, did not get any ornaments on it until the 13th day of Advent. Since then, no more ornaments up either. Part of the problem I am having is that I have a slight OCD issue with having to read the scripture that goes with the ornament. I can't just put the ornament up each day unless we read the reading. And I don't have time to do the readings everyday, and then they build up and we have a bunch to read....and then I'm overwhelmed and nothing happens for days and days. Yep. That's just how it goes.

We also have no Christmas tree yet, and no Christmas decorations. We are hoping to get out this weekend to cut down our Christmas tree but there is a huge storm headed our way for Friday, so we'll just have to see.

We also have been "Church" shopping. My husband has a diversion to the "big city" near us where we've been attending Mass so we are seeking out our options to find a place that fits us better. We do really like the fact that our Bishop presides frequently at the parish in the "big city", but we need to do what's best for us as a family and staying out of the city is a big priority right now. Unfortunately the parish in our own small town is, well, "spiritually lacking" is the term I would use. It leaves one very thirsty for a deeper experience.

I pray you all enjoy this season and are able to celebrate it for what it is! God Bless!

~H

Not "Enough"

Lately, I have been tempted to feel not "enough".

Sometimes, it's not Catholic enough. Others, not "crafty" enough. And there's always the not blogging "enough". Not a good mama enough. Not a good enough cook (ok, well, really I am a good enough cook, I take that one back). Not thin enough. Not pretty enough. Not able to keep up with everything enough.

Why do we allow ourselves to feel this way?

As women, I think it is easy enough not to feel enough ALL THE TIME. Look at mainstream society. We are bombarded with images of "adults" looking like preteen, super skinny, airbrushed, "perfect" creatures. It takes a true turn to look at what God intended for us to realize how fake indeed that idea of beauty is.

Women were designed to have families. Families prevent us from being perfect in society's eyes, but not God's. When I look at myself in the mirror, I *try* (very hard) to see not an imperfect body, but what my body shows I have done for my family.

My soft, round middle is the purple heart for the three glorious children I have bore, without the need for drugs, thankyouverymuch. My overspilling (yes, they overspill) breasts are proof positive that I have nourished my children in the divine manner that God gave me. My short hair is end product of being able to keep my baby near me at all times, even when I shower. My jeans are snug fitting because instead of taking time for Pilates or Yoga, I surrender myself to attachment parenting and know that my children are receiving the best care I can offer them. Period. My clothes aren't the most fashionable, because my money and time are better spent caring for my home than for my wardrobe.

As far as those other "enough"s are concerned:

I try not to take things others do too seriously. Sometimes when I am out in the bloggy world it is too easy to get caught up thinking, "How come they have so much time to write such inspiring things? Why does their blog look so cool? How come I'm not making people want to read my blog?" I realize that these are temptations of satan himself trying to make me feel inadequate and lure me away from my true responsibility, that of sole care-provider for my home and family.

Sometimes, at Mass, I am tempted to feel not Catholic enough. Is there such a thing? Or is this yet another hit the devil takes at me to make me feel lacking and unqualified?

I see other families with perfectly behaved children, Mom and Dad in their Sunday best, no snacks, no one distracted. But my children are children. They act like regular kids. They don't always pay attention and we could never make it through Mass without a bottle of water and some cheerios.

Are jeans really that horrible? My husband has been away from the Church for the majority of his life. I thing God is pretty darn happy that he shows up at all, jeans or no.

And when my kids are sick, or I am 2 weeks post-partum, I have to believe that God understands that I can't make it if I am to fulfill his request that I tend to my vocation as mother and care for my children. Sometimes also, it's just too cold to take the little ones out of the house.

And so, I will try to feel instead of "not enough" that I am in fact doing just as He intended for me to do. Enough.

~H