Honesty Is Underrated

Six months

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 00:18:00 +0000

Alex my sweet baby girl. You are six months old already. You are nothing at all like your brother was at this age. You are smaller, more delicate some how. Yes you still have those delicious rolls and chubby cheeks that I love to pinch. You have no use for those milestone charts I keep getting in my Inbox. Your brother blew through them. Sitting up, rolling over, crawling, walking all accomplished by 8 months. You have decided to do things in your own time. Not when some damn chart says you should. You are your own woman, my dear. You are laid back and calm, always studying the situation around you. You could care less who holds you and you are quick to grin that amazing toothless smile at anyone that greets you. You fall asleep in my arms with no fuss. You nurse only when you are hungry. You cry when you are overly tired, or wet and for no other reason. So unlike your rambunctious brother.

Yet the two of you adore one another. You will grin at him more quickly then anyone else in the world. You are patient with him as he learns to hold you and as he explores you by poking and prodding. You can tell the the adoration is mutual in the shared looks and cuddles. It's amazing for me to watch.

You have started growling. It's your way of expressing frustration and joy and amusement. It's odd and adorable and wonderful. You are not yet crawling and I am in no hurry for that. You have no teeth but you manage to do you fair share of eating. You love to be held and cuddled and kissed. You love raspberries blown on your tummy and when Daddy tosses you ever so gently in the air. Your are my monkey. With your pale blond peach fuzz for hair and your big deep blue eyes that look in to mine and see me in a way I've never really been seen before.

You are my wish, my hope, my love. You are my everything. You are what taught Daddy and I that love does not divide. It only multiplies. I wish the world for you and I hope that you and your brother continue to appreciate each other, through the inevitable arguments, because together you make up the two halves of my heart. I love you baby girl. Happy 6 month birthday.

Valentines

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 21:06:00 +0000

Mine consisted of an amazing gift of amazing stopping power from my amazing husband. Pics to follow!

Yeah, so I'm alive

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 23:28:00 +0000

Two kids. Wow, does that screw up a routine. I'm alive. Alexis Joyce is wonderful and will be 4 months old next week. Behold the cuteness-

Yeah, so I'll do better.

Thunder Chief?

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 14:28:00 +0000

Do wha?

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh

Dirty Deeds.... DONE. DIRT. CHEAP.

(silly boy)

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 13:37:00 +0000

NOT work friendly. NOT child friendly. If you're offended by the F word don't even hit play. For everyone else, this is effing hilarious-

School, 1958 vs 2008

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 16:40:00 +0000

Scenario: Jack goes quail hunting before school, pulls into school parking lot with shotgun in gun rack.
1957 - Vice Principal comes over, looks at Jack's shotgun, goes to his car and gets his shotgun to show Jack.
2007 - School goes into lock down, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail and never sees his truck or gun again. Counsellors called in for traumatized students and teachers.

Scenario: Johnny and Mark get into a fistfight after school.
1957 - Crowd gathers. Mark wins. Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up buddies.
2007 - Police called, SWAT team arrives, arrests Johnny and Mark. Charge them with assault, both expelled even though Johnny started it.

Scenario: Jeffrey won't be still in class, disrupts other students.
1957 - Jeffrey sent to office and given a good paddling by the Principal. Returns to class, sits still and does not disrupt class again.
2007 - Jeffrey given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie. Tested for ADD. School gets extra money from state because Jeffrey has a disability.

Scenario: Billy breaks a window in his neighbour's car and his Dad gives him a whipping with his belt.
1957 - Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal, goes to college, and becomes a successful businessman.
2007 - Billy's dad is arrested for child abuse. Billy removed to foster care and joins a gang. State psychologist tells Billy's sister that she remembers being abused herself and their dad goes to prison. Billy's mom has affair with psychologist.

Scenario: Mark gets a headache and takes some aspirin to school.
1957 - Mark shares aspirin with Principal out on the smoking dock.
2007 - Police called, Mark expelled from school for drug violations. Car searched for drugs and weapons.

Scenario: Pedro fails high school English.
1957 - Pedro goes to summer school, passes English, goes to college.
2007 - Pedro's cause is taken up by state. Newspaper articles appear nationally explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist. ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system and Pedro's English teacher. English banned from core curriculum. Pedro given diploma anyway but ends up mowing lawns for a living because he cannot speak English.

Scenario: Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from 4th of July, puts them in a model airplane, blows up a red ant bed.
1957 - Ants die.
2007 - BATF, Homeland Security, FBI called. Johnny charged with domestic terrorism, FBI investigates parents, siblings removed from home, computers confiscated, Johnny's Dad goes on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again.

Scenario: Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee. He is found crying by his teacher, Mary. Mary hugs him to comfort him.
1957 - In a short time, Johnny feels better and goes on playing.
2007 - Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job. She faces 3 years in State Prison. Johnny undergoes 5 years of therapy.

Obama's speach (or Would You Like Fries With That?)

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 20:52:00 +0000

What you read below is a transcript, typed as it was spoken. So it isn't as fluid a read as one might hope. It helps if you know how Genn Beck speaks. If you don't shame on you because his show is one of the most balanced I've heard in a long time.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Glenn Beck: Obama's Speech
Audio Available:

August 29, 2008 - 13:15 ET

GLENN: Let's go ahead and, shall we play Cut 1 and just roll through it? Cut 1.

OBAMA: Let me spell out exactly what that change would mean if I'm President.

GLENN: There you go. Now see, listen to the crowd.

OBAMA: Means a tax code that doesn't reward the lobbyists who wrote it but the American workers and small businesses who deserve it.
[ Cheers and Applause ]

GLENN: Okay, stop for a second. I want you to know the man is for cap and trade. So is John McCain, for cap and trade. Are you for cap and trade? It is the largest tax scam on the planet. I want you to know who the leaders of cap and trade were. Who were the what, what group wanted cap and trade, what group did more to pressure congress to move into cap and trade than anybody else? It was Enron. Enron. Cap and trade is a giant scam the likes of Enron. They want cap and trade because they know the big companies will profit on it. The little companies, the common person, the person that is trying just to start their own business, you will be crushed by cap and trade. And both John McCain and Barack Obama are for it and it is the biggest special interest scam on the planet. So don't talk to me about special interests, how you're going to chase them out of Washington, and it's not going to be written for them. It's going to be written for the little guy. Cap and trade will crush the little guy. Go ahead.

OBAMA: Unlike John McCain, I will stop giving tax breaks to companies that ship jobs overseas and I will start giving them to companies that create good jobs right here in America.

GLENN: Okay, stop just a second. What he's talking about, and this should run a chill down your spine, especially if you've read anything on the books that I've been telling you about on Woodrow Wilson. When he talks about these, when he says I'm going to stop giving tax breaks to companies that ship jobs overseas, John McCain is not suggesting that we give tax breaks to companies that ship jobs overseas. He's saying, I'm going to give tax breaks to all companies. Why? Please think through this logically with me for a second. Why would you want to give a corporation tax breaks? Because we have the highest corporate tax rate in the world. I have said this if I've said it once, I've said it in a million times. I'm tired of companies that look at this country as a market. We're not a market. Do you know why these television stations don't wear a flag lapel pin, why these TV networks don't do it? Because they're global networks. America is a market. Why doesn't CNN refer to us and them? Instead it's the United States. Because we're a market. They have a global reach.

Now, if you keep jacking up the cost to do business and you look, and your company is a global company and you just can't root your company here. You can put it in Jakarta, you can put it in England, you can put it some place elsewhere you're not getting raped by the government. You're going to because you have a responsibility to the shareholders, who also only care about money. And remember, before you throw the shareholders down the stairs, Barack Obama, I'm guessing you're a shareholder. I'm guessing your grandmother is a shareholder. Because if she has a 401(k), if she has a retirement account, it is invested in these companies. Most of them, the big ones, are global in nature. So when you give a tax cut to companies, you are giving them the incentive to stay in America and not go away.

By the way, again if you've read any of the books that I've been telling you about on Woodrow Wilson, the scariest thing about Barack Obama that he didn't say last night on this subject, I'm going to can you play back what he said? He said, "I am going to do." "I'm not going to give the tax breaks to the companies that ship jobs overseas." What I am going to do is what?

OBAMA: Start giving that to companies that create good jobs right here in America.

GLENN: Okay, stop. These are patriotic companies this is, I believe the actual official term that he labels them is patriot tax breaks, patriot companies. Really? Can you imagine if I would say that Boeing was a patriot company? McDonnell Douglas was a patriot company because they were making missile defense systems, because they were helping us build planes that were flying over Afghanistan, that's a patriot company, so I'm going to give that patriot company... the left would never accept it. The left says, don't tell me I'm patriotic and the other guy isn't. And we'll get to that at the end of his speech. They say it over and over and over again, "Don't tell me what patriotism is." But Barack Obama is about to relabel the tax code, so you know exactly, through what you are charged, what you are fined and how you can get relief. He's about to tell you exactly how patriotic you are, through the tax code, with an actual label of patriotism.

All right. Roll it.

OBAMA: I'll eliminate capital gains taxes for the small businesses and startups that will create the higher wage, high tech jobs of tomorrow.

GLENN: Okay. He said he's going to eliminate the capital gains tax for small businesses. Is he really now? So in other words, the capital gains tax, if I invest, I can get that. However, he wants to raise the capital gains tax and double the capital gains tax for everybody else. Again, take out the take out the game that he's playing here of, "I want to cut the capital gains tax for the small business." Grandma gets a capital gains tax if she has a 401(k). Grandma gets one. You get one. If you have a retirement fund, you will pay a capital gains tax. It is one of the leading, one of the leading incentives on reinvestment is the capital gains tax being low. He wants to jack it up for really anybody I think now except for small businesses. I'd like to know how he defines small businesses. Roll it again.

OBAMA: I will listen now. I will cut taxes, cut taxes for 95% of all working families.

GLENN: Stop. I want to cut taxes for and he says listen now. So he's saying it's important. And boy, is it ever. I will cut taxes for 95% of all working families. Great. Seeing that, 50% of America doesn't pay taxes and 49% of America gets more money back. What he's really saying is I'm going to sock it to the top 5%.

Now remember, he's going to tell you that everybody pays taxes, because I've already heard him say it. When confronted with the bottom 50% of this country, pays no tax, the bottom 50%. So that means the upper 50% pays all of the taxes. Are you telling me just imagine, imagine your workplace and just say that your workplace is all of America. Are you telling me that in this country, your workplace with all the people who work there, that half of the people in your business, in your workplace, half should carry the load for the other half? Are you telling me that half of this country, 1/2 of the United States of America should carry the load for the just think about your day. Think about all the people that you see. Think about all the people that you encounter all day. Think about the people because he'll tell you, you know there are people that are struggling, there are people that are struggling, they are struggling to make ends meet, and that is true. But it is also true that you do pull yourself up by the bootstraps. So he will have you focus on those, you know, that farmworker. "There's that farmworker that I met, Sally Muckenfutch and boy, she... Sally Muckenfutch's husband was run over by a plow and his one Clydesdale that had emphysema." And he will tell you that story.

I want you to reframe this in your own head, please. 50% of America does not pay taxes. Think about that in your everyday life. You think about, you can look at that person who is handing you fast food tonight. On your way home or your way to lunch, you look at that person and you think, they don't pay taxes. You know what, because they're struggling. Do you also follow that up with, "I know why they're struggling." "I said a chocolate shake!" "What? I gave you onion rings." There's a reason some of these people are struggling, because they don't give a flying crap. Why don't they give a flying crap? Because somebody like Obama will run in and save the day for them. You don't have to work. You don't have to do it right. You don't have to struggle. You don't have to get the fries and the onion rings and the milkshake right. And you are going to you are destined to lead that life of misery for the rest of your life because no one has ever said to you you're fired. We expect a higher quality here. You're fired. And when they are fired, they don't care because they'll get it from the government. They will be able to find some victim support group that caused them to have all of these problems so 50% can carry the other 50% on their back. And by the way, the top 1% carries most of the top 50%. The top 5% carries almost all of the top 50%. You want to talk about a country of fairness, that ain't it. You want to talk about a country of hope, that ain't it. You want to talk about a country that used to understand you know what? You know what? We're going to bust our ass, and I'm going to get out of poverty. I'm going to make something of myself. A country that would understand Barack Obama's story in context. Look at this man. He came from nothing. He went to Harvard. His wife went to Princeton. God bless America they could do it and he would stand on the stage and say I could do it and you could do it, too, and you could do it without anybody's help. That's America.

Things I don't need to hear

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 17:37:00 +0000

I am 33 weeks pregnant. Eight months people. Anyone who tells you pregnancy is 9 months long is excruciatingly bad at math and should be struck down with some flesh eating parasitic disease. Pregnancy is FORTY WEEKS. That means you COMPLETE your nine months and, if you have a fetus who particularly enjoys the constant 98.6 degree hot tub and the all day buffet, you quite potentially go into your TENTH month of being pregnant.

With that a list of things I don't need to hear

~ I am not a first time mom. I have been through labor (and a c section.) I do not need to hear your horror stories. I do not care about your cousin's best friend's daughter's 36 hour labor.

~ On a related note I do not need to hear about how the epidural wore off halfway through labor. About how their blood pressure dropped and they passed out. Or about the blood transfusion they needed to keep from dying OH MY GOD

~ Yes I plan to nurse. I nursed my son for 35 months (yes you read that right.) So I know all about sore nipples, and nursing strikes, and bleeding and cracking and how I'll never be able to leave my baby. Most of that listed is complete bullshit.

~Yes, we plan on cosleeping with the new baby just as we did with my son. If you think sex can only be had in the bed, at night, I have a book you need to read.

~ I am 8 months pregnant. DO NOT EVER say to a pregnant woman (or ANY female) "Oh you're getting SO big!" Because then I want to point out you're kind of a fat ass yourself. Yes I know it's "mostly baby" but I also know that doesn't mean the entire 35 lbs I've gained is going to disappear as soon as I finish gestating. So back off.

~ I don't grab your crotch so don't touch my belly. Normal manners still apply to pregnant women. If you wouldn't feel comfortable touching my stomach when it isn't housing a baby don't touch it when it is. It's creepy.

~ NO it's not twins and YES that is rude

~ Yes I look like I'm about to "pop." That's becasue you're used to seeing pregnant women on TV. Normal women don't look like that. Angelina Jolie's weight at 9 months is my goal weight a year from now.

Bill of NON Rights

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 15:36:00 +0000

NEW AMENDMENT TO THE CONSTITUTION

'We the sensible people of the United States, in an attempt to help everyone get along, restore some semblance of justice, avoid more riots, keep our nation safe, promote positive behavior, and secure the blessings of debt-free liberty to ourselves and our great-great-great-grandchildren, hereby try one more time to ordain and establish some common sense guidelines for the terminally whiny, guilt ridden, delusional, and other liberal bed-wetters. We hold these truths to be self evident: that a whole lot of people are confused by the Bill of Rights and are so dim they require a Bill of NON-Rights.

ARTICLE I: You do not have the right to a new car, big screen TV, or any other form of wealth. More power to you if you can legally acquire them, but no one is guaranteeing anything.

ARTICLE II: You do not have the right to never be offended. This country is based on freedom, and that means freedom for everyone -- not just you! You may leave the room, turn the channel, express a different opinion, etc.; but the world is full of idiots, and probably always will be.

ARTICLE III: You do not have the right to be free from harm. If you stick a screwdriver in your eye, learn to be more careful; do not expect the tool manufacturer to make you and all your relatives independently wealthy.

ARTICLE IV: You do not have the right to free food and housing. Americans are the most charitable people to be found, and will gladly help anyone in need, but we are quickly growing weary of subsidizing generation after generation of professional couch potatoes who achieve nothing more than the creation of another generation of professional couch potatoes. (This one is my pet peeve...get an education and go to work....don't expect everyone else to take care of you!)

ARTICLE V: You do not have the right to free health care. That would be nice, but from the looks of public housing, we're just not interested in public health care.

ARTICLE VI: You do not have the right to physically harm other people. If you kidnap, rape, intentionally maim, or kill someone, don't be surprised if the rest of us want to see you fry in the electric chair, sniff the gas chamber, swing from the gallows, or take it in the vein!!

ARTICLE VII: You do not have the right to the possessions of others. If you rob, cheat, or coerce away the goods or services of other citizens, don't be surprised if the rest of us get together and lock you away in a place where you still won't have the right to a big screen color TV or a life of leisure.

ARTICLE VIII: You do not have the right to a job. All of us sure want you to have a job, and will gladly help you along in hard times, but we expect you to take advantage of the opportunities of education and vocational training laid before you to make yourself useful.

ARTICLE IX: You do not have the right to happiness. Being an American means that you have the right to PURSUE happiness, which by the way, is a lot easier if you are unencumbered by an over abundance of idiotic laws created by those of you who were confused by the Bill of Rights.

ARTICLE X: This is an English speaking country. We don't care where you are from, English is our language. Learn it or go back to wherever you came from!

ARTICLE XI: You do not have the right to change our country's history or heritage. This country was founded on the belief in one true God. And yet, you are given the freedom to believe in any religion, any faith, or no faith at all; with no fear of persecution. The phrase IN GOD WE TRUST is part of our heritage and history, and if you are uncomfortable with it, TOUGH!

Happy freaking birthday

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 19:36:00 +0000

My birthday is tomorrow. I have plans to eat at the Melting Pot with my SIL and invited my mother to go (God knows why.) The first thing out of her mouth was "How late are we going to be there?" She calls today to ask if she can take me to lunch. I remind her my dad is driving up, an hour and a half, to take me to lunch and to look at washers and dryers (for him, his 1970's models finally gave in.) I'm also going to see if I can find something nice to wear to dinner since I've been living in yoga pants and t shirts. Maternity clothes are either expensive or ugly. This is when my mother chooses to have a tantrum. I remind her the deal was that I was going to lunch with Dad and to dinner with her. She says her and her husband need to go mow my grandmothers lawn. Fine. Go mow the damn grass. Never mind that my worthless cousin lives next door and shares the same grass. Lord forbid she have to mow it. Really, I could care less if my mother shows up. I invited her only b/c listening to her bitch about not being invited is somewhat more painful than having flaming toothpicks shoved in my ears. Now she's upset b/c I refuse to change my reservations to an earlier time. I tried to explain that after lunch and shopping that I'd like to come home and shower and get ready before going out to eat. I hate rushing almost as much as I hate being late. Besides, it's my birthday. Then she points out I didn't call her in her birthday last year. I did call. Five times. She never picked up and never called me back. Aside from that she is the mother, I am the child. At some point she stopped caring about that. Every conversation I have with her remindsme how selfish and narcissistic she is. I keep blaming her. Question is, when am I going to learn that I cannot control anyone's actions but my own. I have to find a way to stop caring so much that she doesn't care. I'm having a new baby and raising a very sweet little boy, as well as nurturing a marriage to a wonderful man. I don't need toxic people in my life.

Perfect day

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 20:03:00 +0000

This morning my adorable 3 year old boy slept in until 8:30! We got up, had waffles and milk. He watched a show while I showered and dressed and we headed out to JumpZone, a local play place with these humongous imflateable bouncers. We played for an hour and a half! Yes, my almost 7 month pregnant self was bouncing right along with him. My son was polite and shared well the entire time. We left there and walked around the shopping center to Pizza Hut where he ate all of his spaghetti and didn't make a mess. For that we walked next door and had ourselves some yummy Marble Slab ice cream. Chocolate with rainbow sprinkles for him and peach with granola mixed in for me. After that we headed home so he could rest since tonight is a church night. On top of that it's a 4 day week! How much better does it get?

Perfect love

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Wed, 21 May 2008 00:05:00 +0000

Is when your three year old boy brings you in the most impossibly small purple flower, gives you a kiss, and says "I love you Mommy!" Life is good.

Mixed Religions

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Mon, 12 May 2008 19:37:00 +0000

was raised Catholic. I was also raised to respect other's views and have, through out my life, formed varying opinions on organized religion. I still go to mass (though we go on Sat nights) and Remi was Christened in a Catholic church.

A few weeks ago MIL took Remi to her church on Wed evening. He's been several times since, and I've always let him go if she asks to take him. I do want him to be exposed to other religions.

Yesterday, for Mother's Day she asked us to go to church with her. I agreed (though DH refused.) It was Mother's Day. The leader (they don't give them titles for some reason) could have spoken about Mary. He could have chosen a topic about a Mother's love, the role of Mother's in raising children. ANY number of topics about Mom's. He chose, instead, to do a sermon about how all of the churches that call themselves non denominational (except of course for their's) is misleading and essentially wrong in all of their beliefs. He referred to the Bible for ONE verse in which James refers to the gathering as The Church and the rest was essentially his opinion. He also spoke about how those who attended churches that proclaimed a certain denomination (mentioning specifically Methodist and Baptist) were "misled" and "misconstruing the word of Christ."

Now, as I said, I don't think any one religion is right or wrong (though I have my issues with some of the more extreme) but I was just appalled at this sermon. I certainly don't want my child going to a church who is telling him his mother is going to h*ll b/c she's Catholic. I don't want to alienate MIL since DH and FIL own a business together and MIL keeps Remi for 2 hours in the morning while I work. I also have very strong feelings on letting him go back to this church. I have no idea how to handle this!

This could be why I'm so screwed up....

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Tue, 06 May 2008 16:00:00 +0000

nar·cis·sism[nahr-suh-siz-em]
–noun 1. inordinate fascination with oneself; excessive self-love; vanity.
2. Psychoanalysis. erotic gratification derived from admiration of one's own physical or mental attributes, being a normal condition at the infantile level of personality development.

I need to get this out. I may not be able to do it all in one post but I need to deal with this in a fashion that doesn't involve bias. In a way that allows me to form cohesive thoughts and not be burdened by the finality of speech.

My mother is an RN. When I was 11 she took a job she didn't (financially) need to take in a town 2 hours away from my father and I. My dad made enough money without her income to support us. She worked b/c she wanted to. She was gone Monday thru Friday and came home regularly on the weekends for a while. After a few months the weekends home become more sporadic and she would want me to come visit her. At some point she quit that job and returned home.

When I was 14 my mother allowed my 16 year old cousin and I to borrow her car (along with a carton of cigarettes she'd bought us)and drive an hour and a half into the city by ourselves to go to a water park.

Soon after I started my freshman year of high school she convinced my father to extend my curfew to 12:30 and I started hanging out with last years seniors (now college freshmen.)

At 15, the weekend before Christmas, she told me she was leaving my father. And made me promise not to tell him. She finally told him on New Year's Eve, the night before she left.

I spent the summer with her at her new condo. That's when I realized that for 3+ years she'd been cheating on my father with the man she'd hired to be my grandmother's physical therapist after her stroke.

She would leave me home alone with my boyfriend while she went to "work out" with the girls from work. She would come home with hickeys. At some point I remember asking her how long she was going to lie to me.

I decided to spend my Junior year with her since my new school would allow me to take college classes during the day. At this point, with a father working to afford alimony and child support, a mother who spent most of her time with her boyfriend and a credit card of my own (I was never made to work and my car was bought for me, along with insurance) I began to find other ways to get attention. Thankfully I never have been a drinker or done drugs. I just became a slut. My grades didn't suffer and I always made it to school on time so there weren't any "red flags." I wasn't a stupid girl either so I made sure birth control was covered.

My mom met a guy in a bar shortly after my dad filed for divorce. She would leave me alone, with what ever friend, male or female that was there, and spend the night with the new man. I'd spend 3-4 nights a week alone. I always went to my dad's on the weekend. After six months of listening to my mother moan about how stupid she was to leave my dad and how if she had it all to do over again...... she got engaged. In a bar. I was there b/c she's found a way to get me in and had been letting me go out with her. I was 17.

My senior year I moved back in with my dad. My mom moved in with her new husband and his two male roommates. When I would visit, I got to sleep on the couch.

My dad isn't totally in the clear. He should have worked less and stood up to her more. But she was always really good at hiding things from him.

My mother never does anything she doesn't want to. She doesn't think her decisions through and is now married to an alcoholic who doesn't want to sleep with her. She's never ever on time for anything and may or may do what she's promised. I spent 5 years after high school trying to make her love me the way I always thought a mother should. Then I had Remi.

We told her from day one of my pregnancy that as long as she smoked she would not keep my child. See on top of everything I've just told you, my mother is addicted to prescription drugs. Oh now she doesn't think she has a problem. She's had 3 back surgeries and has a "prescription" from a doctor she drives almost 2 hours to see b/c no other medical professional in his or her right mind would give her the meds she has now. Daily (sometimes two or three times) my mother takes morphine, oxy contin, Tylox, Loritab, Soma, Xanax, blood pressure meds, and Percocet. She falls asleep while she's talking. When I stopped taking my Percocet 3 days after my C section, she offered to buy them from me. Oh and on top of all of that she has "fibromyalgia." Yeah, that's a woman I'm going to let keep my child.

After his third birthday this year I told her she could come get him for a few hours the next weekend (my aunt would be with her.) She never showed up. Not even a phone call. At that point whatever inside me was still making excuses for her broke as I watched my 3 year old stand by the door waiting for Gammy.

I didn't talk to her for 2 months. When I finally answered her calls she told me it was time to "let go" of all of "that stuff." She had "paid her dues" and I needed to let it go. That she hadn't done anything wrong. That I just didn't have any respect for her

She doesn't understand why I feel the way I do. She doesn't think anything she did could have hurt me. I realized recently I don't hate her anymore. I'm not angry, or hurt. I'm indifferent. I used to say I loved her b/c she was my mother. At some point in the last few months I realised I felt nothing anymore. I just want her to go away. I used to feel badly for Remi. Then I realized that he has a wonderful, amazing grandmother in my MIL. I can't let my mother hurt him the way she hurt me. I didn't have anyone to protect me but I can protect my son.

My husband doesn't understand. My dad feels horrible about not doing something but hind sight is 20/20. I'm not sure what to do from here. I have no idea how to deal with this. She really and truely doesn't understand what she's done and until she can admit to something I can't have a relationship with her. I feel lost. How do you tell your own mother you don't want to speak to her any more?

Lesser of Two Evils

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Sun, 04 May 2008 16:51:00 +0000

Thankfully for me I live in a fairly gun friendly state. However once I got my CCL a few years ago I, of course, became noticeably more aware of the No Weapons signs on local business' doors. Now as a rule, if at all possible, I just avoid these stores. However being that I live in a small town occasionally this just isn't feasible. So once I found out that your first offense for carrying a weapon where it is prohibited is a misdemeanor with a $300 fine I decided to basically ignore the posted sign and carry anyway. With the exception of government buildings. I'm rebellious, not stupid.

My friend was appalled at this until I pointed out that the business owners would never know and that if for some reason they DID find out it would be in the unlikely event that I felt pressed to defend a life (mine or someone else's.) So I guess I've just decided that being able to protect my self regardless of some corporation's political views is more important to me than a misdemeanor charge and a few hundred bucks. I think my life, and those of my family, is worth $300 don't you?

Food? Maybe?

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 20:44:00 +0000

I am slowly crawling out of the depths of first trimester hell. The first go round with Remington was a breeze. Ten days of slightly ill feeling and then nothing but excited first time pregnancy bliss. This time? Not so much. I just spent almost 4 months doing nothing but gagging, trying not to puke, not eating, eating everything thing in sight and sleeping ALL THE DAMN TIME. Suck.

Now I'm only occasionally gagging (OK like every time I brush my teeth and occasionally when my blood sugar gets low, a dozen times a day.) I'm only tired like 48% of the time now. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Now I just wait on the swelling, heartburn, and muscle aches. Why did I want to do this again?

Oh. Yeah. I guess asking Ed to carry this one would have landed us on Oprah huh? I remember being all excited about getting the tummy and buying maternity clothes last time. I am SO over that and have vowed to live in maternity jeans and Ed's t-shirts. I want the baby. I so ready for tiny clothes ans cute cloth diapers and seeing Remi be a big brother. I just wish there was an easier way to get it here. Something that doesn't require me to gain 30 lbs and end 9 months of uncomfortableness with 20 staples in my stomach.

Really, I'm thrilled though.

Me too

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 20:02:00 +0000

We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse. For my grandchildren, I'd like better.

I'd really like for them to know about hand me down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches. I really would.

I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and that you learn honesty by being cheated.

I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn and wash the car.
And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you are sixteen.

It will be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.

I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in.

I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother. And it's all right if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room,but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he's scared, I hope you let him.

When you want to see a movie and your little sister wants to tag along, I hope you'll let her.

I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely.
On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks away so you won't be seen riding with someone as uncool as your Mom.

If you want a slingshot, I hope your Dad teaches you how to make one instead of buying one.

I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books.

When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn to add and subtract in your head.

I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush on a boy/girl, and when you talk back to your mother that you learn what ivory soap tastes like.

May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your hand on a stove and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole.

I don't care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don't like it.. And if a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you realize he is not your friend.

I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your Grandma/Grandpa and go fishing with your Uncle.

May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays.

I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through your neighbor's window and that she hugs you and kisses you at Hannukah/Christmas time when you give her a plaster mold of your hand.

*The above is from an email and is credited to Paul Harvey

Yep

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Wed, 12 Mar 2008 13:49:00 +0000

I am a: Glock Model 22 in 40 cal

What kind of handgun are YOU?

Daddy's Rules for Dating

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Fri, 22 Feb 2008 15:47:00 +0000

My dad sent this to me in an email. Ahh flashbacks to high school.....

Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them..

Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a 'Barrier method' of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: 'early.'

Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge . Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual themes are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi . When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

Meme

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 21:13:00 +0000

From AD-

What do you think when I say:

1. Beer: Tecate, lime and salt
2. Anorexic: Olsen twins
3. Relationships: Wonderful
4. Purple: Bear
5. Power Rangers:Evil
6. Weed:Vomiting
7. Steroids:Baseball
8. Cartoons:Courage
9. The President: Downhill slide
10. Tupperware: Multiplies like bunnies
11. Best vacation:Island
12. Santa Claus: Lies. All lies.
13. Halloween: New baby
14. Bon Jovi: I'll Be There For You
15. Grammar: Endangered
16. Facebook: Over it.
17. Worst fear: Something happening to my family
18. Marriage:Amazing
19. Paris Hilton: Why?
21. Redhead: My neices
22. Blonde: Me
23. Pass the time: Reading
24. One night stands: No thanks
25. Donald Trump:See Bad hair
26. Neverland: Peter Pan
27. Pixie dust: Tinker Bell
28. Vanilla ice cream: Stawberries.
29. High School: Zcarrici jeans and cole hans with no socks
30. Work: Wondering how they'll tak me bing pregnant
31. Pajamas: Flannel
32. Woods: Peaceful.
33. Wet Sock: Cna't stand it
34. Alcohol: Moderation
35. Love: my husband and son (and the peanut.)

Hallucinations

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 19:41:00 +0000

I, to the surprise of no one, frequent a few message boards. One for women with children Remi's age and one for women TTC their second child. Here is my confession- When I would read about women having sore boobs, nausea and fatigue before they were even six weeks long I would secretly think, "Woman, you've lost your damn mind." Karma ia making me swallow my words. I'm all of 12 days past ovulation and I'm already sore and hoping profusely that if I do throw up I"m at home and not in the middle of Target. The nausea seems to hit about 1 pm and last for a few hours. Who in the hell gets afternoon sickness at 4 weeks?! I never got sick with Remi. For a few weeks atarting in my second month I would feel ill but I never really got sick. this is a whole new ball gmae for me.

Knocked up

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Sat, 09 Feb 2008 16:06:00 +0000

And it only took us four months this time instead of 18! I would have sworn I was getting whatever God awful stomach bug all the men at work have had. Turns out I was getting a baby instead! Ed is thrilled (though a little nervous) and Remi... well, Remi's three. I think I should buy a book that will help explain it to him. Yay!!!!

It's the small things

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 19:09:00 +0000

I've been curious about cranberry farming since I saw the flooded fields in whatever that juice commercial is. Every time I see it I tell my husband I wish I knew how they DO that. Today I come home and on the TiVo I see an episode of Dirty Jobs. In it mike Rowe is making bricks and.... farming cranberries. No amount of flowers or candy in the world makes me feel more special than knowing that not only does my husband listen and rememeber the seemingly insignificant things I tell him, he cares enough to act on it. He doesn't even WATCH Dirty Jobs. TiVo'd cranberry farming... that's true love.

Is there enough room?

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 18:32:00 +0000

See those boys up there? They are my life. I woke up this morning snuggled between my husband and my son and I thought, "Could this get any more perfect?" And then I starting wondering about the decision we've made to have another. Would there be room? Everything is so perfect. Will another baby double that joy? Or create havoc?

I'm an only child. I have no idea what it's like to have a sibling or to raise two children. The relationship between siblings is an enigma to me. I see how close my cousins are and how close Ed's and his brother are but the depth of that relationship elludes me.

I don't want Remi to be an only child. But part of me wonders if I'm ever going to be able to understand. Will I love Number Two as much as I do Remi? Will Remi accept a new baby? Will they be best friends or enemies?

The love I have for my son takes my breath away. There is nothing I wouldn't do to keep him safe and happy. My world would end with out him. I would be a worthless shell of a person. Is it possible that, with another child, that love will double? Or will it some how take away from my sweet boy?

I never imagined that the love of my life would wear safty goggles and a cape. I certainly hope that when I do get pregnant that he'll be as excited as we will be. And that we all learn that there is no capacity limit of love.

Broken filter

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsey) — Sat, 02 Feb 2008 20:50:00 +0000

My dad has always told me that God forgot to install the filter bewtween my brain and my mouth. My internal filter is beyond repair. You wnat butt pats you've coem to the wrong palce. Which means if you come to me whining for advice I will give it to you, uncensored and unrrated. If you then shoot down Every. Single. Suggestion I make with some lame excuse be prepared. I will tell you that it isn't your husband's fault your marriage is in the shitter. The man TOLD you exactly what he needed and you continued to ignore him. You made excuses about conflicting schedules and kids that get "upset" about going to bed early and about how you don't want to go outside and do things becasue its cooooooooooold. Guess what? We he leaves your whining excuses to find a woman that will LISTEN to him, you will get no sympathy from me. Men are simple. If you've already had sex, make him a damn sandwich. Put the kid to bed early no matter how pissed she gets. Better to have a slighty mad 2 year old than to be a single mother. You have a husband who cares enough to tell you what he needs changed (and has reasonable requests) and didn't just immediatly try to replace your bitchy ass (I wouldn't have blamed him.)

It comes down to one thing- The best gift you can give your child is to love her father. He is not there only to pay bills and make sperm donations. He has needs and feelings and he's TRYING for God's sake. Try with him!!! And stop whinign to me. I ran out of cheese ages ago.