Thursday Thirteen: Working my way back
Dec 20th
I think it can pretty much be said without hesitation that I stink at keeping up with a blog. Further more I must apologize to the kind dedicated readers of mine who have sent messages inquiring where I have disappeared to. My only rather sad excuse is that I am currently buried under piles of homework, laundry, dishes and diapers. So, here I am posting now because I have a link to my blog in my signature and removing it to let Party of Five die completely made me sad. My Thursday Thirteen could therefore be dedicated to none other than the 13 ways I intend to redeem myself and beckon back my wonderful readers and blog buddies.
1. I promise to dedicate myself to at least two posts per week.2. Even if I am too distracted to write my own post I commit to reading and commenting on at least two other blogs.
3. Instead of attempting to make every entry perfect and pristine, I will post blurbs sometimes to let my readers know I haven’t dropped out of the blogosphere.
4. I will stop worrying so much about what others think of my thoughts in print, after all, isn’t that the point of having my own blog?
5. If my kids, school, work, or marriage are the only hot topics on hand, then so be it…they shall appear with in these pages.
6. When hubby steals the fun family events for blogging I will post them anyways for those who do not frequent his sight.
7. When my river of thoughts runs dry I shall beg others to guestblog if they feel so inclined.
8. If I get requests (other than from hubby) to update the look of my blog I will indeed look into it.
9. I will cut at least thirty minutes of literati out of my limited schedule just for blogging.
10. I shall seek out a dark secluded place in my house to write undistracted (even if I have to hang out in the closet).
11. Even if I don’t have a bright, bubbly, exciting, or fun subject, I will blog the bummer events sometimes too. (It can always be sunshine and summertime right?)
12. If I know hubby is planning on blogging my best material, I will either stake claim to it first or race him to the finish line.
13. I shall not disappear again without warning
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Christmas Budget
Nov 24th
I am currently trying to work out our December budget, and I must say it isn’t pretty for any month, but even worse is that I have to find a way to squeeze in funds for Christmas. Then all of a sudden this comic appeared on my front page…I’d say it is very relevant.
Silly Pet Peeve
Nov 20th
A few of you may know that I was a single mom for four years. By single mom I mean I raised my son on my own. No government assistance, no handouts from others, no free programs which covered daycare, and no help from another parent. Single by every definition. Therefore the burden fell on me to handle it all. Not just finances, but the whole kit-n-kaboodle. Discipline, morals, entertainment, and transportation. It didn’t leave much room for change in jobs as I had to match schedules and required a specific income.
Now, my point in explaining all of this is not for any pats on the back or otherwise as I have been truly blessed from the beginning with supportive friends and family and have no regrets in how my life has turned out, however recently I have begun to hear the term “single mom” used very loosely. It has turned into an annoying pet peeve of mine to hear a woman with a child (or children) who have separated from their partners calling themselves single moms. Meanwhile they have weekends off, financial assistance, or a simple person to call on when things aren’t going so well. Weather you hate your ex or not, if they are still in the picture and participating, you are not a single parent, it’s called co parenting. I can see that doing it from sepparate house while you are taking on the bulk of the burden may stink, but it is still not single parenting.
Single moms do not get weekends off without finding childcare, and that is a rare event. It isn’t something that happens every week, or even every other week. If you hate your job, you can’t just quit because you are the only source of income. Unless you have exceptional childcare, there is no one to call on when you have unplanned changes in scheduling. If your kid gets hurt, or in trouble, no one else is there to call on for help or to lessen the burden by having another parent to bounce it off. Granted, having a second parent doesn’t mean that all your troubles are solved, as I am certain I was better off raising my son on my own than having his loser father in the picture. I am simply saying if you have a somewhat involved second parent in the picture who cares for his kid(s), then stop calling yourself a single mom and count your blessings that you can come up for air sometimes.
Another day in paradise
Nov 4th
Do you ever feel like you are on a practical joke show? You know, one where so many things are going wrong in such an exaggerated manner that you have to wonder if it could possibly occur outside of rigged television? Well today I had a moment where I wondered as much. See, my van looks as though our entire party of five actually lives in it. Complete with back up outfits that are dirty because they have already been swapped in a crunch, stacks of ads that never made it in from the mailbox, toys for long road trips kept in case of tantrums on the road, and crumbs everywhere. In fact, I even had shelving, a tv, and dvd player that were given to me which had never made it in the house. So I decided it was well past the deadline to clean this mess out. The first step was to bribe the 9 year old with a trip to the movies in an effort to get help. Next I pulled out the center set of seats and removed all unrecognizable fragments of candy stuck to the carpet and drug the vacuum out to finish the task. This is where it went awry.
Bouncing back two weeks ago, the 9 year old was cleaning his room and busted the vacuum. Luckily the next week I was fortunate enough to pick up a used one off of my local freecycler. Unfortunately it was free because it gets clogged and can’t seem to maintain suction. So after dragging it out and rigging it to stretch, it was off to option number two, the free vacuums at the local car wash. Leaving the middle seats in the front yard planning on rushing home, and hoping the sprinklers were not set to turn on, I pull up ready to finish the job. Well the first vacuum was out of order, so I moved to a different stall, where the next one was missing the tip and wouldn’t pick up fuzz, on to the next one which excitedly had the tip and turned on, but wouldn’t work either. Hmmm. Beginning to wonder if someone was out to sabotage my attempt at driving a clean vehicle, and determined not to be taken down, I headed back home.
At this point I am thinking that even though our original vacuum is squealing really loud from what would seem to be a busted fan, it at least still has decent suction, so I drag er’ out to get it all done and wouldn’t you know it, I start smelling a really foul scent similar to burning rubber, or rather burning plastic. Which is precisely what it was. As I turn back to see why it is so strong, I find that the 5th vacuum I have attempted to use to clean out the car, is now on fire. This has got to be bloopers practical jokes right?
Customer Service
Oct 29th
I started working at 16 and was always taught from my parents as well as employers that the customer is always right. In other words if you work a taco stand and a customer says they saw a commercial for $2.99 Ribeyes, you had better be running to a store for them rather than explain that they have the wrong place. Repeat service and advertising by word of mouth was the name of the game. It seems though that this is no longer necessary. In fact my motto in the last couple of years has become “the customer is always right, except when I am the customer”. This would be because no matter where I go, when something goes wrong, I find the finger pointing back at me. Here is an example from my day today.
I have been bounced through multiple appointments and approvals for five months trying to get a tuba ligation. I had finally arrived at the day of my pre-op this morning to rush around dressing little ones, drag them out and about with entertainment and snacks in hand anticipating a long wait, and get settled in a chair in my ob’s office, when an hour into the juggling act and 25 minutes after arriving I am informed the Dr. is not in and I will have to return on a different day. The first offer was to return on Wednesday at 5pm. Uh, sure. I have three kids, with two who will be nagging to go trick-o-treating the second they wake up, but I am certain though they would prefer sitting in a Dr.’s office watching birth videos instead, thanks, but I think I will pass. After many attempts to reschedule we found a day that worked, but not before the unnecessary eye rolling and sigh from the assistant at having to look for something else. The look on my face must have been pure psychosis as I wanted to cross over the counter and take out the scrawny 19 year old who most assuredly has no idea what jumping through these hoops again in the same week with a full schedule means. There was never an apology or explanation offered just a silent “get the hell out” look.
My next stop today was to exchange some pants at Walmart since my son has gone from an 8, to a 10, to a 12 in less than a year and didn’t fit the new pants he needed for his costume. This is where I was ignored by an over worked, bitter, cashier who would apparently rather munch on her donut than acknowledge the guest standing behind her. I presented my receipt and kindly explained them not fitting my fast growing son and received nothing more than a blank stare and my refund slapped down on the counter.
Day not going so good, and over an hour until my son got out of school, I stopped for lunch. Though I suppose I should have anticipated from the empty parking lot a long wait, it would never have occurred to me that a french dip could be mistaken for a grilled chicken sandwich. 45 minutes into remaking the order it finally arrives as the server nudges toward an explanation of “MY” error in ordering being the cause of the mistake. Silly me, I forgot that the word chicken was slang for beef in some social networks. Once again the customer is always right, except when I am the customer.
Chew on this
Oct 26th
About a month ago our littlest family member started drooling and chewing on everything in sight.
Though my first instinct might have been that she was teething, she wasn’t quite 4 months old, so that didn’t really seem likely. So I waited to start any teething aids except supplying the chew toys (yea, I know, now she sounds like a puppy).
A couple of weeks passed and on top of the drooling, and chewing, was a sad fussy girl who wasn’t getting much sleep looking like this:
Shortly thereafter when mom and dad were completely sleep deprived and exhausted trying to walk with the baby we were believing to be extremely gassy, because no front teeth had still yet appeared, a discovery was made. Not two front bottom teeth like usual, nor the next set in sequential order, instead we found her bottom fang teeth had popped through. Yep, the ones that are not scheduled until around 2 years old. So now this:
and this:
are making much more sense. I suppose when I see her doctor in a couple of weeks and he tells me this is perfectly normal I will feel better, until then I will be dreaming of strange dental procedures like when my son had to have an extra tooth pulled at 4 years old. Maybe spare teeth run in the family.
Modern Art
Oct 24th
I tried thinking of a Thursday Thirteen, but couldn’t, so my next best thought was to share the predicament I found myself in last week when I returned home from school. I came home, got comfy, and realized my two year old was being far too quite upstairs. Though it was ten pm and I should have assumed she was sleeping, I knew better seeing how hubby was in charge (ha ha, sorry hun). So I attempted to sneak up on her only to learn that not only has she mastered the ancient art of door opening, but that she also decided to follow in Picasso’s footsteps. This is the scene I snuck up on.
The Experiment
Oct 20th
A friend of mine and incredible scrapbooker, Nicole, tagged me for this experiment which was originally started by Mary Demuth. “It’s an experiment to see how many degrees we can separate. How many people can one blog potentially reach?”
Here it goes:
10 years ago–1997
This was a big year for me. I was 20, waiting tables at Carrows and translating as a bi-lingual aide at a local school district. I was working 2 jobs for no clear reason, I just loved the income and was taking a brief break from school, so what the heck! I broke up with my first true love and rushed into a relationship with the next Mr. Wonderful. Months later I found out I was pregnant just before learning how NOT wonderful my boyfriend was and got a glimpse at the next adventure coming as a single parent.
20 years ago–1987
I was 10, in 5th grade and had only lived in the Desert for a year so I didn’t have many friends. During the Summers we would always drive a few hours to Kern County to water-ski, fish, swim, and camp for a week. This year in particular we celebrated my Birthday at Lake Isabella. I will never forget the camp site, it wasn’t the place we usually stayed at, but sometimes mom and dad would take us there and we would get so excited because it had a tire swing and jungle gym. I remember getting my 2 favorite outfits that year that I wore until they were rags, 
30 years ago–1977
This is the year I was born so I can’t say much about what I was doing, other than eating, sleeping and pooping. I was the youngest of three, and was born in Torrance, California. I was born the year Elvis died and at the end of the disco era but still learned to appreciate the great music of the times. No pic. for this one, which is probably for the best since I did not photograph well as a baby, lol.
I am tagging Jessica the Rock Chick, and Shelly in an effort to keep this going, but totally understand if you are not interested in participating. Otherwise I look forward to reading yours.
Harry Potter Author Sues Religious Organizers
Oct 11th
According to an article on Yahoo News J.K. Rowling is suing organizers of a religious ceremony in India for replicating her fictional Hogwart’s Castle. Now mind you, this is a papier mache and canvas castle, so it was never intended to be a landmark. Plus the ceremony to be performed within is a non profit event, but J.K. Rowling somehow believes its use entitles her to $50,000. The story doesn’t go to great length to explain if any names or locations were used any where within the project, just that it was modeled after Hogwarts.
I must say I am completely baffled by the ridiculousness of this lawsuit, and sadly I can only assume it will not be over until after the event deadline has passed, but maybe I have missed crucial details which would explain it all clearly. I do wonder however just how many eager trick-or-treaters Rowling will be dragging into court for replicating Harry Potter’s look this Halloween.
Thursday Thirteen:
Oct 11th
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One of the perks of having two kids in a relatively short time frame is that you get to use all of the goodies from the first one. This has come as an extreme advantage since our tiniest one is not so easily subdued most of the time. Therefore this Thursday Thirteen is dedicated to the objects that attempt to entertain little britches through out any given day. Be forewarned the manufacturer of most of these toys are “we suck batteries dry in mere minutes” aka “we keep back ups for our own peace of mind”.
The Snugglie, Guitar and Bath are the big guns that come out when all toys, meals, & means to a nap have been exhausted.