Whoduhthunkit!?

The husband got home Sunday night after over a year’s worth of deployment to "the Sandbox".

Now…before you get that impish grin on and start thinking kinky sick thoughts (which, trust me, aren’t thoughts people normally associate with me), I am NOT exhausted because of all the SEX folks.

It’s the snoring.

FUCK that man snores!

I do NOT know what happened but he lays there all night alternately very nearly choking on the back of his own throat and/or blowing air through his lips wihle they sort of PRP open and closed.

GAH!

I try to get 8 hours in every night because I have to watch other people’s children all day. Any good parent would not want to leave their precious kiddie with someone who is either hallucinating from lack of sleep or gone savage due to same. I am on the second night of less than 4 hours of sleep. I am thinking of hiring a hit man…to shoot ME.

How do you tell someone that the little gift they brought back for you from the desert is killing you slowly?

I am DELIGHTED to have him back but this snoring…Oh he used to snore a BIT which I was quite accustomed to but THIS? I lay there as the back of his throat collapses and wait for him to realize (in his sleep) that he is asphyxiating. I know it’s going to happen with a good RIPPING SNKGGGGGGGGKKKGGGGGGGGG but I ALSO know that if it doesn’t I am left collecting insufficient life insurance and living the rest of my life without laughter and great conversation. So I lay there…waiting…to see if he needs CPR or if he is going to suck the PJs off of me finally with a massive indrawn snore.

This is killing me.

One should not have to grit one’s teeth to climb into bed with one’s beloved spouse should one? I mean…he could trade this new skill set in for perhaps a good solid dutch oven each and every night. I’d deal…I’d even pull the covers over my head and really appreciate the flavor and bouquet JUST FOR HIM…but this snoring.

I am going to die from lack fo sleep…

I don’t want sex…I want SLEEP.

How sad is this? He’s home and he’s alive and hale and all I want is sleep LOL.

Keep your eyes on the headlines - I may show up as the chick who microwaves her cell phone and burns down the block.

I’m drugging us both on Friday night LOL.

You know I always, in a sort of humble but self acknowledging kind of way, thought that I was informed, open minded, and intelligient. I felt I was one of those that are deeply sensitive and capable of seeing the deeper beauty of people despite what the outer shell is showing.

Oh how wrong I was.

Someone more beautiful on the inside and outside than myself has educated me in a soul searing and life altering way. This beautiful woman found some knowledge and shared it with the world and then, she showed her deep and abiding love, an ability to love that goes above and beyond any I know. She shared her child with us.

I am always the type to hop on a soapbox and beat my chest about whatever moves me but I think I am going to simply say this. I have been blessed by being emotionally touched by this woman. I have been enlightened and enriched. I have been changed.

I will let HER post do the talking in HER blog. Join me. I BEG you to watch BOTH of the videos (one rather long) ALLLLLL the way through. If you don’t you are cheating yourself of a chance to truly SEE the world as it was meant to be.

http://www.especiallyheather.com/2007/01/30/i-have-something-to-say/

Go there. Do it now.

I have several bloggers that I like to read on a daily basis. They keep me in touch with other real people and they make me laugh as well as reminding me that I am not alone in this incredible circus of life. I always appreciate the ones that make me laugh and sometimes I appreciate the ones that make me cry. I read one this morning however that made me MAD so I thought that I would put my thoughts about the subject here in case there are other Mom’s out there and they share the viewpoint…and maybe we can stand up in support of this fabulous woman/Mom/blogger who was thrown to the lions at NBC.

To first read what caused me to gripe in the following paragraphs please go head on over to Melissa at Suburban Bliss and show her the love. Girl *smacks a high five and then snatches a hug* I am HERE for you.

So…do YOU drink around your kids? One drink? Two? Do you get sloshed? Are you a puritan parent who believes that every SUCCESS your child has is YOUR CREDIT and every failure YOUR FAULT? Me? I drink in front of my kids. SOCIALLY. I am an example of how to drink SOCIALLY. I go to BBQs and I tip back a beer or two and I have laughs and I CONTROL MYSELF and my children watch me (or not - I am not the sole focus of thier attention) but they DO hear me say "No more thanks - I am AT MY LIMIT." and they see me walk straight and sober home to our house (I do NOT drink and drive but that’s mostly because I also know that I have CHILDREN to transport and they are at my mercy when they are strapped in so no…not even ONE drink when I have to drive.). My children have learned that it is COOL to cover your glass with your hand or shake a finger no-no and say "No more thanks" because OTHER adults respect that, nod, and we continue to HAVE FUN WITHOUT ALCOHOL. ‘Cause we can. We know our limits and respect the limits of others.

My husband drinks around our children too and they have heard HIM say both the "No more thanks." and the "I can’t, have to drive." and they learned that MEN as well have limits and that it us up to both a man and a woman to ENFORCE their limits and that parents CAN do this all on thier own without a "Professional" such as a psychologist telling them about HEALTHY ways to relieve stress. Our children have learned that stress exists and sometimes people YELL and sometimes they pout and sometimes…sometimes…they find relief in a  few laughs with great friends over good food and a couple of frosty beers…and that PART of the stress relief is having fun watching our kids have fun with our friends’ kids while WE have fun. Good times, memories, family outings, and nights playing flashlight tag while the grownups sit around the fire-pit laughing (and NOT accidentally charring the children because they had a beer).

Have my children seen either my husband or I inebriated? Yes. The weekend we buried my father in law my husband got drunk and they learned that Daddy definitely did NOT like being drunk and Daddy told them that drinking did not make the pain go away no matter how hard he had tried. Were they scared of Daddy? No. Did Daddy "parent" while he was inebriated? No. I did. Did Daddy EXPLAIN what he had learned to his sons? YES. And they will REMEMBER it when they are tempted to drink to forget. Maybe. Because what kid remembers EVERYTHING they are taught and frankly my husband wasn’t so frighteningly drunk that it would leave a mark. He was drunk enough to cry in front of his sons. That was enough. Have I gotten inebriated in front of my kids? Yes. When my sister was there the weekend after my husband deployed because I was scared and mildly hysterical and I had family around me and frineds who could BE the BABYSITTERS because I am not a babysitter no matter WHAT anyone else says. Did I explain it to them? Yes. Did I show them it didn’t work? Yes. Did I parent while I was inebriated? No. Because I know my limits - penis or not.

So Melissa my dear I have a drink or two in front of my kids and I do not get drunk and I parent and my kids learn that one CAN drink socially AND be responsible and be COOL enough to say NO and that Mommies and Daddies can SOCIALIZE and be HUMAN after the children are born and AROUND their children. I stand with you and whenever you wish I’ll share a big old Momtini with you - stirred not shaken, because I think those jackholes at NBC shook you up enough. I believe we can manage to not dip our kids in chocolate and sell them on Ebay DESPITE our one drink apiece don’t you?

Well I’m figuring that since I told y’all that I was going camping, you might want to know how this All Indoor Girl did. Allow me first to say that if you do NOT have a cup of something hot to drink and a bit of time to kill don’t read ahead ‘cause in a history of long-ass posts this is a LONG-ASS POST!

Allow me ALSO to say that you need not invest in Coleman stocks ‘cause I aint buyin’ yet but…well judge for yourself:

Friday -

We arrive at the campsite in the dark, first stop is the WRONG spot (right troop - wrong den) but someone from OUR den spots us and trots over to guide us and our vehicle with a lantern to the RIGHT spot. We get there and unload and ALL the kind souls there in our den help us set up our very first tent. We heart our den members. I get the interior of the tent paved with air mattresses and 2 dozen or so (it seems - relax) quilts and sleeping bags. Also, DVD player, CD player, MP3 player, books, clothes, medicine kit (we are herbalists not allopathists so I have to have my own "stuff"), and my tea supplies (cause bears aren’t the ONLY scary things in the woods if I don’t have my tea). I put the car back in the lot where it belongs, hike back to camp, and then realize that I have to undress and PJ up my 5 year old, in 40 degree weather…he finds this immensely amusing and without complaint allows it and then snuggles up inside his sleeping bag and under the huge comforter I brought along. DVD player on and he’s happy. Well sort of…even the DVD player thought it was too cold and it ran VERY slowly…loading was a long project and then it skipped and hesitated all over the place. Cubscout himself also got dressed, shivering and giggling the whole time, and since he weighs about 60 lbs whilst soaking wet with rocks in his pockets I figure he’s going to have a hard time staying warm. No complaints from him either and he’s back OUT of the tent and around the fire with the other cubbies roasting marshmallows (actually they were setting them afire and running around shrieking with laughter but I digress….) whilst I boil a pot of water and make some tea for me. I have to fortify myself see…’cause I TOO have to get undressed and in PJ’s….*shudder*.

Around 9:30 or so 5 year old announces (little voice from the tent) that he is very tired now and could Mama "please come and snuggle me warm so I can go night night". Cubscout agrees too and we all zip ourselves in, the boys cover their heads while I change, and we get deep in the covers to watch the end of "Cars" and drift off to sleep. I have a really good sleeping bag so I am quite warm but my face is warning me that it will get COLDER and I will pay for this with some SERIOUSLY dried out skin. At about 10:30 5 year old informs me that he is not really warm enough and could he please get in the sleeping bag with me. I agree and we drift off. At 1:15 in the morning I wake up to…cold…zombies’ tit in a brass bra cold…and a smell…and a 5 year old informing me that he smells "nasty chicken soup". One side of me is soaked, as is 5 year old. I learn (from Cubscout) that 5 year old downed 2 large cups of hot cocoa while I was setting up our camp and then hiking back from the parking lot. Now I am wearing at least half of it while 5 year old is wearing the other half. RIGHT through his pull up. We change AGAIN in even COLDER temps than the first time and then, tossing aside the wet sleeping bag we hunker down under what remains and pull the covers over our heads. It takes about 30 minutes but I finally stop shuddering and begin to feel my fingertips and toes again. Now I have to pee. BADLY. I wish the 5 year old well, leave the tent (after putting on shoes and jacket), and "hit the head" which is about a block away (if one were on a road) and there is FROST on the FUCKING TOILET SEAT!!!!! It’s not that I am going to SIT on a public toilet seat but SHIT…FROST…who camps in this weather!? Me that’s who….so I hover and head back. Under the covers again and 45 minutes later…guess what? I gotta pee…AGAIN…WTF?  I’ll cut it short and tell you that these nocturnal toity hikes caused numbness and a rousing game of "stay awake" from 1:30 am until 7:30 am. All the while between pot hopping I lay shivering and wishing I had the brass set it required to walk to the lot, get the minivan, and drive thru all of the sleeping people to get the kids (and myself) warm inside a running vehicle.

Saturday:

At 7:45 after a little giggling and snuggling to try and pick the day up, I gave up, got up, got *shudder* dressed, and got some hot coffee (feh) into me. Another Den Mom assisted by keeping Cubscout with her whilst I took 5 year old HOME, bathed us BOTH, and laundered my sleeping bag. It took 3 hours to launder and dry the sleeping bag but by then I had defrosted and was ready for a new day. The weather had warmed up enough and by the time we got there it was LOVELY. The rest of the day was SO lovely in fact that I looked forward to the WARMER night in the tent and a REALISTIC camping experience.

Until we discovered that Yahoo Weather predicted a wind and rain storm that had a possible 1 inch or more accumulation.

Tents don’t stand up to that type of treatment.

Neither do I.

We decamped in RECORD time and went HOME (which is so much more LUXURIOUS now that I have had time and reason to consider it). I was still shivering most of Saturday night in my own bed but by Sunday morning (which dawned without ANY rain thank you very much) I was warm and recovered enough to unload the minivan.

If camping was more like Saturday during the DAY I would enjoy it. Time with the kids, hiking in a beautiful forest, adults to talk to, and enough of a clearing to let the kids run hog wild and wear themselves out without endangering themselves. It was nice. Winter camping however…this is not for the faint of heart or thin of skin or parent of a child with a small bladder.

We will try ONE more time in better weather and see how we fare. I survived it and am richer for the experience.

At least I have a GREAT story to tell 5 year old’s fiance *evil grin* when he least expects it…

Main Entry: mi·cro·scop·ic
Pronunciation: "mI-kr&-’skä-pik
Variant(s): also mi·cro·scop·i·cal /-pi-k&l/
Function: adjective
1 : resembling a microscope especially in perception
2 a : invisible or indistinguishable without the use of a microscope b : very small or fine or precise
3 : of, relating to, or conducted with the microscope or microscopy

ORRRR

"The amount of joy I am experiencing concerning my upcoming (within hours) weekend camping trip in the woods in January."…it will be 30 tonight - ’nuff said

Main Entry: eter·ni·ty
Pronunciation: i-’t&r-n&-tE
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -ties
Etymology: Middle English eternite, from Middle French eternité, from Latin aeternitat-, aeternitas, from aeternus
1 : the quality or state of being eternal
2 : infinite time <lasting throughout eternity>
3 plural : AGE 3b
4 : the state after death : IMMORTALITY
5 : a seemingly endless or immeasurable time <an eternity of delays>

ORRRR…

"How long I will spend in jail after being arrested for using the corpse of the den-leader to thaw out my five year old."

See also - "How long each and every moment is going to last during this weekend camping trip."

That’s right folks, yours truly, the Original Indoor Girl Extraordinaire, is going camping. With boys. In the woods. In temperatures I wouldn’t leave my dog outside in. Without internet access. 

I’ve never camped before. To me, roughing it is washing my delicates in the sink. I don’t even wait on long lines to get concert tickets or purchase a Wii. I’m sure that much fresh air will put my system into overdrive or shock or something. Oh I garden (in floral gloves with a large floppy hat, a very LARGE iced tea, a soft gardening seat, and loads of lotion on) and I go for "nature walks" (with almost as much equipment except for maybe the seat and if I could hire someone to carry it that would come along too), but sleep outside? With bugs? *shudder*

My inner child is having a temper tantrum.

Oh and the showering facilities? I was warned that there is only a 60 gallon hot water tank "so timing is everything." TIMING?? Who times their showers and what is EVERYONE else going to bathe with because if I am going to have to spend THAT much time outside around testosterone it darn well better groom itself.

Oh and I am going to dine on interesting things like "eggs in a bag" and a fruit sort of baked…thing…made in a homemade OVEN (not the DESSERT…the OVEN was made in someone’s home. A box lined with foil over a fire or something.). Someone mentioned letting the kids cook too….I’m already cramping…

This calls for something I don’t usually insist on but if I am going to expose any of me to extended weather and…outdoorsness…there will be vast quantities of

Main Entry: ap·pre·ci·a·tion
Pronunciation: &-"prE-shE-’A-sh&n, -"pri- also -"prE-sE-
Function: noun
1 a : JUDGMENT, EVALUATION; especially : a favorable critical estimate b : sensitive awareness; especially : recognition of aesthetic values c : an expression of admiration, approval, or gratitude
2 : increase in value

and snuggles…and chocolate.

‘Cause camping…not my bag….

Ok so in the spirit of a good "Let it all hang out" kind of day I figured ya’ll might want to know a few things about me (random) that most people don’t already know. Not that you care, I just feel like hammered horseshit today between the whole "moon-phase" thing and a roaring two day sinus headache (despite taking even OTC allopathic meds *gah*) I’m feeling a little odd.

1) I am an aspiring writer - of Fantasy/Sci-Fi and historical romance (ok stop laughing…here…put your head down between your knees it’ll pass). I have two Sci-Fi/Fantasy type books floating around in my head and one historical romance that begs to be put BACK on paper. I had the romance 27 chapters into production and guess who’s drive blew up…and the backup CD was friggin’ fried…yep…and now I can’t find the heart to do it again which is said. It’s a good piece if I do say so myself. I’d read it.

2) I had to explain the facts of life last week. To my 9 year old male-child. The GIRL facts. Now before you calll CPS on me - The Cubscouts are making me go camping (again for those who don’t know me well - I MAY be a gardener and herbalist but I am also very much an indoor kind of girl if you get my drift). I am going to be forced into a tent, with things like camping stoves and lanterns, and sleeping bags….and bugs. Facts of Life kind of hooks into this because this is all supposed to go down when my cycle "peaks" and far away from showering facilities and a good tampon disposal is the LAST place I am going to wish to be…ahem. I don’t want the lad to think I am looking for any excuses to NOT take his beloved butt camping (what sane woman CAMPS??? MEN can go days without showering…women?…feh…) so I had to explain that if our great Mother of The Moon Phases was good to his Mama we’d be able to go but if not and things panned out as I thought it might…it’s a no go. I sweated thru the whole thing and he turned grey and looked ill. At least (God Bless his little heart) he doesn’t ask me every.stinking.day. "Didja get it yet?"

3) I really REALLY want to own a large plot of land. Not because I want to resell it and make a chunkachange. I want to own it and live on it with a 5 acre buffer on all 4 sides bewteen me and…anything…I have this overwhelming feeling that we as a species are running out of time and unless we have the wherewithal to be self sufficient - we are in trouble. I figure a good chunk of land should enable us to grow our own groceries and have enough trees for firewood eh? I know…as if the government would allow us to keep it if things get that dire.

4) My husband and I, along with a couple of friends, once bumped into Kevin Dillon in a Dunkin’ Donuts whilst driving back from his best budd’s wedding in Penssylvania. We were in some podunk backwoods upstatey kinda smalltown and he walked in. You could tell he’d (a) been there before and the locals were comfortable enough to treat him like anyone else off the street and (b) was UNcomfortable at being in there with people he did NOT know. We ALL recognized him from the movie "Platoon" but all elected to act like we bumped into actors every day. We all looked at him, nodded casually and ordered our coffee and doughballs. For some reason he seemed to leave in a foul mood even though he had acted like he wanted to be left alone and we left him alone. Ah well….

5) My father once told me that (a) everything he had ever done he did for me (explain please how molesting your daughter was something you did "for her"…) and (b) I would never ever amount to anything because everything I was, I was because of HIM and when I left I would be a failure for sure without him. Up your ass daddy-oh. I am everything I am without you and I like me SOOO much better this way. And so does everyone else.

OK so if I was allowed to add a 6th one it would be that I REALLY wish I had another daughter because this part time daughter stuff is very painful…a full time female I could torture into pink dresses would be quite nice and round out my little world beautifully but…I wouldn’t trade my male babies for anything.

How about you? Up to talking about yourself? What is ONE thing you are brave enough to "put out there" for those of us who want to know?

After a couple of days of enjoying the umm…*raises eyebrow* stimulating reactions to the post formerly known as God Bless MLK, I decided I should branch out and maybe read the news since I was *yawn* y’know…done with the whole subject…suffice it to say nobody should make any assumptions over the education or color of those they are writing to online. One would think that a University Educated Personage would know that a set of "   " was used to "QUOTE" what OTHERS might have "SAID". As in "YOU PEOPLE" out there who are "educating me" (I quote your email dear since you were so eloquent in it - notice the "quotes" which indicate I am "quoting" you.) I for one have never called any one person or group "you people" but Al Sharpton has and HIM…psh…please…I’d rather snake my septic system with my tongue than discuss his past actions…Tawanna Brawley ‘n all….AA, anglo, purple or green…he has in the past been nothing but a troublemaker. End of OPINION to which I am entitled. Whatever my color. Oh and just so that those who wish to teach me about Black History DON’T get their britches in a bunch - I ALSO don’t wish to discuss Jeffrey Dahmer, Fidel Castro, or the Khmer Rouge. I am an equal opprotunity eye roller and subject hater. Everyone should celebrate their differences but stop shoving them up my ass and trying to EDUCATE me on the wrongness of MY differences.

/of dignifying the ranters.

Right. Sooooo I decided to read up on the news today and passed this gem which made me sit for a moment…brain in "stutter" mode:

Teenagers do grow more materialistic: study

Who decided we needed a study on this and how much did they pay????!!!! Are they KIDDING!?!?!? Since the dawn of time when Ock wanted a rounder rock teenagers have become more acquisitive as they aged…we needed to STUDY this!? What half-wit parent decided (or government official) that they needed some sort of Official Nod that their suspicions were correct???

This is even less useful than the study on the impact of Goose and Duck Turds on Local Lakes….

At least THERE they were trying to justify hunting certain populations of geese.

What’s next? Measuring Bovine Methane Emissions and It’s Impact on the Ozone?

Who gets to capture the cow farts?

I grew up in a predominantly "white" (I don’t know…whenever someone refers to a person as white I see a bunch of paste colored people LOL) neighborhood. I don’t imagine that this is a choice my parents made, it just happened. They didn’t seem to be the sort that screened neighborhoods or schools…they kind of fell into a housing situation with the first house they owned (someone in the family couldn’t afford the mortgage anymore so my father assumed it). It was more or less an accident. There was one African American girl in my entire school career from kindergarten through the eleventh grade and then she was only in the neighborhood for one year. I never really thought about it much until I saw my collection of earlier year books and I had no idea who this girl was. It stuck out. Not because she was African American but because my SENIOR year of high school was in a much different location. I had moved out of my biological father’s house to love with my biological mother for my final year of school before moving out on my own. SHE lived in a very diverse neighborhood. It was like living on a diet of Peek Freanes and then suddenly being given a one day all inclusive free for all pass to a German Bakery. FLAVUH!

I loved it.

After having been an oddball (not very popular book wormish imaginative sort with a free spirit and an "I could really care less what YOU wear it ain’t my BAG to follow the herd baaaaaahhhh." attitude.) I was just one fish among many and we swam as we wished. Goldfish, guppies, minnows, tetras, you name it. ALL SORTS. And I had a blast. I acted out, I partied, I danced and sang on street corners. I lived.

My wish for everyone is to experience that. To dig their teeth in and taste life in big bites. To savor everything that other cultures mixed in with yours in a hodge podge of life can bring you. Eat Thai food, wear a sari, put your hair in braids, sit in a lotus position, and celebrate Kwanzaa! My good Lord what we miss when we "stick to our own" as if our own are a BREED of people. I want to walk around and wear a t-shirt that states boldly "Not black, Not white, nor yellow or red…

HUMAN!"

‘Cause shit…who only opens the GREEN wrapped packages under the KwanzaChanuukah Tree? You open ALL of them ‘cause the wrapper aint the thing baby, it’s the CONTENTS.

May you have family of diverse ethnic background as well. This way you learn to live in and on and among kin and truly understand there are no differences that can not be celebrated. Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations - I read that somewhere and I mean it. I have two baby sisters. One a Heinz 57 of Russian, English, German, Scottish blah blah blah and one East Indian, African American, and Anglo. They are GORGEOUS women on the inside. Their wrappers are very different from mine (one is adopted and one shares a biological mother with me) but we are SISTERS regardless. We look nothing alike yet if you look deeper it’s hard to tell where one begins and the other ends.

To our dear departed Martin Luther King Jr. - May ALL your dreams come true as this one appears to be more and more every year. It started with the Little Rock Nine, Rosa Parks, and a few other souls who refused to be told "what they were"…and moved on to three little girls like my sisters and I. May the tide continue!

To the folks heading up "All Black Colleges" and "United Negro College Funds"…you have some thinking to do ‘cause if Anglos did the same you’d be all up in their grills…so long as you hold onto the idea that this stuff is needed because otherwise "your people" won’t get into college, the belief that there are differences will continue. Look around and see if "your people" aren’t fostering this sort of behavior by continuing to point out the "differences". Stop saying "It’s because he’s BLACK" and start asking if it’s because his grade point average didn’t make muster and that my friend has NOTHING to do with his or her color. African Americans study the same way Anglos do…by cracking the books. And no mere skin color will change that. We do things the same and I don’t know ANYONE who keeps tallies on their friends and families anymore. There are a lot more people who have no idea anymore what the "count" is on their coworkers and friends because it’s simply not noticed. THAT’S where YOU need to go.

And I’ll be there waiting for you to catch up to me and MLK baby.

Otherwise known as some random thoughts cluttering my brain pan. I figure if I get it OUT I can move on with my day…

1) Remember that post awhile back? The one about homemade soap from scratch? We used that soap now for the past week and all I have to say is DAAAMMMNNNN. This is the most luxurious, sweetly scented, richly lathering AMAZING soap I have ever used. Go ahead…ask me if I am ever going to BUY soap again..g’head…ask.

2) The pre-pubescent/verging on pubescence type of behavior (compounded by low self esteem and a very QUICK boiling point) of my eldest son has been succesfully "cushioned" by the judicious application of a therapeutic dose of St.John’s-wort tincture. He is happier, though he still gets angry and angsty, because he doesn’t chew himself to bits over issues and the little ant hill troubles aren’t Mt. Fuji anymore. He’s glad he took the option and is doing better in school because he isn’t sabotaging his own efforts.

3) Fat Asshole Cat is still with us. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just ditch the cat even if it is a no kill shelter. I felt like giving up on finding a way we could all just live together in peace was like giving up on a kid. I’m a total sap. Well Cleo (fatcat) now spends all day (weather providing) outside and comes in during inclement weather or at night and has staked out ThingTwo’s bedroom as HER turf. No other animal can get up into the top bunk of his bunkbed so that’s HER spot and she darn well will make sure she hisses down ANYTHING else that walks through the door (other than ThingTwo whom she has adopted as HER boy). I think we have a match made in heaven. Hyper Boy and Nutcase the Cat.

4) ThingTwo, who at some point decided that he will be an air fern (not requiring food or water for maintenance or growth) suddenly ate meat the other day…red meat…a whole lot of it. A very kind neighbor who’s son shot and killed his first deer gave us a large roast of the finest cut (backstrap) which I cut into small steaks, wrapped in bacon, and marinated in my famous "Camp Sauce" (ask if you want the recipe I totally rock at this). Normally one bite would be a struggle with this boy but he not only ate that bite, he went on to devour an entire steak…about 8 bites. His eldest brother ate 4 steaks (yes I said steaks, not bites…STEAKS) and his littlest brother had a good solid portion as well. NIIIIICE and now Gunny has to learn how to hunt LOL.

5) It still, at the MARRIED and nearly 40 stage, feels AWESOME when a male stops, stares, and says "WHoa..I almost didn’t recognize you, you look AMAZING!" I lost nearly 80 lbs and cut my hair when Gunny deployed and a friend of his was floored when we bumped into eachother in the store. Yeah…I still got it…oh yeah…

6) What’s the relationship here…Your husband’s cousin’s daughter. That’s been eating me alive mentally for some reason…second cousin?

7) To sell or not to sell…my husband says I should market my salves, lotions, and oils (I’m an herbalist). I admit I have fun making them and I admit that I make a LOT and feel bored when I can’t make any because I made all the STUFF we need…but sell? Turn something I love into WORK? I dunno…I did that with Website Design and now I don’t even do it for fun because I grew to LOATHE it.

8) If a family agrees to split the cost of a Xmas gift…shouldn’t ALL members that agreed pony up the ducats? Family branches a,b, & C all agreed to split the cost of a set of plane tickets for beloved Mum in Law so she could go spend the holidays with her newest grandbaby. Branches a & b paid…branch C never did. They DID however buy a brand new car…..second vehicle for a family of 2 (no kids)…am I wrong to be a bit shriveled about that?

9) ThingThree’s ear surgery is a success as far as I am concerned. The amount of ungodly high pitched shrieking has dramatically decreased and he is now capable of WHISPERING (which he does at the ODDEST moments). I still wish that I had been educated about the fluid in the ears and antibiotics but I am now and will share THAT info as much as I can.

10) There is NO finer way to be awakened early on a Sunday morning than by a warm gigglish and snugglish 5 year old who smells like homemade soap.

After putting myself, or at least 5 points of me, out there like that I got to thinking. There’s a lot of "old tape" that I’ve, well, not forgotten, but surpressed to the point that I am no longer sure that it effects my every day life. I certainly spent enough time and money on therapy so I could talk it out with a professional and learn some skillz that assured that. I didn’t want those two sick twisted people that raised me to have any more power over my life than the amount they originally got when I was a child and had nowhere to go. Some of this was fixed by therapy, a lot was fixed by the love of a good husband and his family, and the rest…*shrug* I deal. What I did gain for sure though was the ability to live day to day without dwelling on the past.

And then one of my kids asks me a question and it all comes pouring back.

Last weekend we went to the local discount movie theater - you know, $.99 per person for a matinee (This goes somewhere I promise). We saw Open Season which I distinctly kept feeling would have been funnier if Ashton wasn’t one of the character voices in it. The casting could have gone better there…I love me some Martin but Ashton pshh…anyway. We enjoyed the movie and the plan was to drop off some bags of old toys as we passed by the Goodwill drop on the way home. As we walked out of the theater (this is where the theater has some relevance), my eldest stated that he had to go through HIS bag quickly because he had accidentally stuffed his "Benny Bunny" in it thinking that THIS particular bag would "go up in the attic for HIS kids when he had them". Yes, sometimes I save some of their more memorable stuff for thier children but old toys aren’t some of them…it’s more of a "security blanket, first Tonka truck" kind of thing. For the record - Benny Bunny is the name of his "security animal" that he cuddled as a baby. It was a gift from my mother in law who had heard about MY Benny Bunny when I was very little and wanted my son to have the same. Well one thing led to another and not only did the boy get his Benny back but he also asked me about MY Benny and after answering some silly questions (like "What if this is YOUR Benny Bunny come back to life?") I was brought around to telling them the whole story. To cut a long story short, this toy which I was VERY attached to had been a gift to me from my mother, basically all I had of her after my parents divorced and she disappeared for  quite a long time. My father remarried and my step mother was well aware that I (a) missed my birthmother and was not happy that stepmom had arrived to try and "take her place" (b) missed my Nana as well, I had been placed with her for a time while custody was being decided by the judge, and (c) was VERY VERY attached to this little ragged stuffed animal. Despite these things, one day in a  moment of anger (I had trespassed on HER stuff by trying to play dress up with her clothes), she made me take my own Benny outside, walk it to the dumpster, and throw it away. I can remember begging and pleading, promising that I was so sorry and that I would never touch her things again.

I was 5.

I can personally guaruntee that my mother in law didn’t know about the dumpster part of Benny’s existence. I never got that Bunny back and since my birth father had told her the story about Benny to suggest a gift idea that would touch MY heart (he did a lot of things to try and impress people and he knew that remembering tender things from his daughter’s childhood would make him look a LOT better and make ME look unreasonable for being distant with him even if I had tried to forgive him), he would skip that bit.

So here I am now at the other end of this story as the adult now. I look back and think what a horrid sick twisted person she had to be to force a child to do that. How she must have actually looked for a way to deliberately HURT a child by doing that. Only a heartless person would make a child throw out their last remaining link to their mother in retaliation for…what… "You touched my STUFF!?" I had damaged NOTHING. Not only was she completely insensitive to her stepchild, she was cruel.

And then it hit me.

As a stepmother I had always proceeded slowly and with respect when it came to forming a relationship with my own stepdaughter. My daughter’s mother had not disappeared but that didn’t mean she didn’t love her Mommy and wouldn’t feel loyalty to her. Sometimes a stepchild feels like accepting a new parental unit would be betraying their birth parent. As a former stepchild I understood that.

I also, even before I felt the tremendous love and devotion for this little girl, made sure I was always LOVING in my manners and attentive to her needs both physical and mental. There was no way that this little girl was ever going to think that she was any different from a birthchild. She would always be a child I was devoted to from the very moment she became a part of my life.

Now I know why I was so darn careful in the beginning of my relationship with her.

I had remembered without realizing it.

So in this way, however small, I take back some of the power that the stepmother had taken from me as a child. Her painful actions became a lesson and  strength for me. I learned and lived from her mistakes. One way of looking at it is "I win".

Now if only I could let go of the PAIN of that memory, that walk I still take to the dumpster, weeping, in my mind.

Always remember…the things you do and say can not be erased once they are committed. Try to never do things that will leave lasting impressions of BAD. A child’s mind is like a blank slate - what you write on it will never completely disappear - it leaves traces and will be replayed again and again.

And if at all possible, if YOU were that child, take those harsh lessons and turn them around into something you can DO something about. I learned what NOT to be as a stepparent I suppose, how to proceed in a loving, non threatening, and respectful way. I have a GREAT relationship with my daughter who is now a teenager, lives over 1,000 miles away and calls me HERSELF at least once a week. For a teenage girl to take time out of her day to call someone like that…

I’m a very lucky Mom!