25 Things About Me

Th facebook phenomena


1. I am an inherently cheap person
2. If it cost more to be diabetic than it did to be healthy, I'd probably work much harder at it.
3. If the boat was sinking, I would save my children before my husband
4. being fat is comforting
5. I am always waiting to get fired
6. I am not a nice person
7. Most people don't much care for me and that's o.k. cause I don't care for most people
8. Elijah can make me laugh harder than anyone else ever has
9. My children have a bit of magic in them
10. Obama and I have similar moles on the left side of our noses, does that mean we could be related
11. I would rather read a cheesy romance novel than a great work of literature
12. I don't like babies
13. I have never had a boyfriend
14. I don't like clothes very much and would work in pajamas every day if i could
15. I don't like going to church - ever
16. I have a love hate thing going with facebook - it annoys me but that doesn't keep me from signing in each day and wishing it were set up differently somehow.
17. I like to watch bravo reality shows -- and the Hills -
18. I would ove for Spencer Pratt to be caught engaging a male prostitute on sunset blvd
19. I used to dream about Prince when I was very upset
20. I've seen a man get a vasectomy
21. Vasectomies smell a bit like getting your teeth drilled
22. I would love to have a giant, stress free, highly attended birthday party before I die --
23. People think I'm bossy
24. meat is my favorite food
25. i think my eyelashes are growing smaller as I grow older

Party Trauma

This weekend, Elijah was invited to a skating party for a friend of his in class. Her name is Eliza. Much of the year, he's kind of had a crush on her, but not so much of late. Or he's been talkig about her less of late. But they are still friends, and he decided to go and be one of only 2 boys at the party. The issue was that Elijah had never been skating. And compounding that issue is the fact that Elijah is not a small, petite little man. With his skates on, he was as tall as I was and weighs as much as an adult - a skinny short adult, but an adult. So, though the spirit was willing, the body was weak. And like most adults, Elijah suffered from the "Oh my god! it really hurts to fall." When you learn to skate when you're little, you don't have that same problem, but for sure it's an issue when you're older. Jose and I went skating once when we first got married. And by skating i mean we paid for skates and then walked around on the carpet for about 40 minutes, looked at how slick the rink looked and then decide that it wasn't worth the long term disability that would invariably be the result of any real fall. After trying for a bit, and watching all of his friends zip by, and having 2 pretty hard falls where he really wanted to cry but couldn't because there were like 4 gazillion people there (including, in case you forgot Eliza and his friends from school) he decided to take his skates off and sit and watch. And then it happened, the flash back. Suddenly Elijah was me at any and every social event that I had ever attended -- especially the ones in which I had no transportation. And his head got lower and his face longer. So, we left, me with tears in his eyes and Elijah wondering why Eliza wasn't more upset that he was leaving... I mean she wasn't upset at all, did you see that mom? She didn't even say goodbye really. The important part is that he was happier when we were walking out than when he was sitting there. And I so remembered that sense of relief of finally being able to leave a place where I didn't feel like I fit in and was embarrassed or unhappy. And even though it was a little awkward, in the long run, I'd do it every time. And then we invited his friend Riley over to spend the night, and all of it was cast aside and forgotten...by Elijah at least. And Isaiah. He spent most of his time pretending to fall, because when you are only 2 inches off the ground, falling is a bit like riding a roller coaster. Or maybe he was trying to help Elijah feel less awkward. But when he really fell, hard, on his butt, he crawled right on over to me to rub it and was ready to go when we were.

2009 - or whatever

A new year. It's supposed to be a time of resolutions. And here it is, two weeks into the new year and all I can think of is that my blood test for my endocrinologist is in a week and I'm pretty sure that I haven't been closely monitoring either my intake or my blood sugars. And all my kids at school are struggling with writing resolutions. And I think, should I make my own? Sure I should - but what's the point really. A resolution is just me saying this is something that I should do, but probably won't. Why can't my body make it's own resolution and let my brain and all those pain centers check out while it takes care of business. I mean seriously, I think my stomach should say, I resolve to cause uncontrollable nausea everytime chocolate, chips or other unhealthy foods reach me. Or even better, my throat should resolve to close or gag everytime high carb foods reach it. But oh no, there's that damn brain in the way. And it's not a licking the bottom of the boot brain - It's not setting the world on fire -- but it is clever enough to talk circles around the throat and the stomach. In fact, I'm pretty sure that it has the rest of the body under some sort of post hypnotic suggestion in which the mouth, throat and stomach believe that chips, candy and bread are actually broccoli, green beans, and cucumbers (raw not pickled).

Last year, I wrote my resolutions down and kept them by the computer. And I accidentally read them about 3 times when I was searching for some piece of paper that I was looking for. And I didn't reach any of those - didn't even come close - and they were soo easy - just needed a little will power - brain power really - to get them through.

So my resolution this year is to win the lottery and then hire someone to walk around behind me and slap me on the back of the head anytime i have bad food (no matter how good it tastes) in my hand and approaching my mouth. I mean 24 / 7. And if that same person could strap me to some excerise equipment and force my limbs to move as well then that would be good. I'm pretty sure that I'd be a bit healthier after that.

In the mean time, my resolution is to not make a resolution that I can't keep. Therefore, I'm probably not making any resolutions.

Christmas Joys

I have decided there are few moments of bliss that are less wonderful than watching your child open any present and have them be so excited and just, well, happy. And there is a petty part of me that gets jealous of Santa - who gave the really cool gift. "Really mom? a tee shirt. Thanks." is not nearly as cool as "WOW!!! MOM MOM MOM LOOK WHAT SANTA GOT ME!!!!" Doesn't matter that we're the same. And hopefully will be perceived as 2 different people for years to come. Though, I must take the time to write a note to my science teachers of the past who have enabled me to create a believable fiction of how and why Santa is able to perform his duties -- and only having to rely on a because God made him that way as a last resort. It was the polar express year, and fortunately, Elijah can still hear the bell for which I am so glad.

Even for Franklin, my savvy 18 year old - being able to suprise him with the gift that he wanted and there was no way that we couldh've afforded if I didn't happen to be one of the savviest coupon finders on the internet that I know (acknowledging openly that I only know a handful of people who shop on the internet and they all have more free cash and don't care to pay full price). There is just such a wonderful amount of joy and pride in finding that gift and knowing that it is something they wanted and like -- EVEN if they are going to flip the XBOX 360 the wrong way and forever mar the game so that it can't be played anymore.... there was 2 weeks of being the best mom ever -- or knowing that SANTA rocks because he knew exactly what to get!

I sort of wish there was a way to garner that sort of praise for my everyday kind of stuff. Don't think it's going to happen any time soon.

Being a Grown Up at Christmas

Another Christmas come and gone and I've finally emerged this holiday as an adult - officially. You know how when you're younger - and even when you're older -- you open a gift with a bit of anticipation wrapped around unadulterated excitement. You just know, without a doubt that the next gift you open will be the absolutely perfect gift. There will be no better gift at all in the world -- NONE!!!! And, I'm hoping that for some of you, that gift turned into a reality. And if it has, then I'm a little bit envious. But to my recollection, I have never really had said gift opening experience. And, on top of that, I do not do a very good job of faking a pleased reaction. If I like someone or something, then you know it. But if I don't like something or someone, you know that too. I try to say the polite thing, but I can't seem to get my face and physical reaction to match the words that I say. So, opening presents is a bit of an endeavor in anxiety for me. Because I don't want to hurt someone's feelings, I really don't. So, getting me a gift, has also developed into a bit of an anxiety ridden experience. Coupled by the fact that because I know that no one will get me the gift that I want, I go ahead and buy what I want for myself when I can afford it - which limits even more possibilities for gifts that could be received and enjoyed at the same time. And as I am in the middle of my 39th year, I have finally realized that I can be happy that someone just cared enough to get me something. Of course, that may also come with the fact that I have 3 different groups of gifting (work, Jose's family, and my family and friends) so I can easily regift items without fear of hurting someone's feelings - and then I feel like the gift that I didnt' really want is actually money that can purchase something that I really do want - and then just enjoy the thought behind it. But, I will admit that when we were playing dirty santa at my dad's house this Christmas and I opened the oven mitt I was so very very very grateful that I got last pick because there was no way that I wanted that thing and am pretty sure that my sister stole it from me because she didn't care - or maybe she really wanted it, but who can figure wanting that. And it has taken me 39 years to tamp down my optimistic hope that I will open the perfect gift. THough I'm less hopeful. And Jose, god love him, isn't not a shopper. And when I thanked him in November for buying me the sketchers that I wanted (and specifically told him that I wanted when he asked and requested black and showed him my generic version of the shoe) and then refused to open it until after Christmas because I didn't want to waste my suprise present from Santa on a gift that I already knew what was... he responded .. you don't know what they look like (he was a bit discouraged that I saw the charge on the bank statement to which point I encouraged him to use cash if he didn't want me to know what he bought me). And he was right. I didn't know what they looked like and I did like them and was suprised. But how much nicer would it have been for him to know (after only 11 1/2 years of marriage) what I wanted without asking and I could have been totall suprised -- of course who are we kidding -- I'd probably be disappointed anyway -- really, it's my very own catch 22.