Whoduhthunkit!?

OK so let’s try this ONE MORE FUCKING TIME…

If I click my Favorites bar one more time to go GET a URL and TOTALLY BLOW UP MY POST AGAIN I refuse to try and write this…

*ahem*

So here’s this Thirsday’s Thirteen which is my 13 ultra fave Mommy/Daddy Bloggers that I swear by like a friggin’ daily DRIP of drugs. I heart these people like a crazed stalker strung out on aphrodisiacs maaaaaaan and I want you to VISIT them NOW whilst I pimp these bitches SERIOUSLY and in NO PARTICULAR ORDER.

1.) Cheeky Lotus: I am going to start this list with Lena since Lena is the reason I ever got here in the first place. I bumbled onto her blog who knows how and I was hooked. She’s funny and foxy and that doesn’t seem fair but she’s also human and get’s hurt as well as makes mistakes so I forgive her daily and need her to write all the time.

2.) Green Straw: Welcome to Vi’s site - you can’t have Lena without Vi or Vi without Lena ‘cause they are bestest buds and having TWO hot bitches to read is just doublemint fun. On top of that…Vi is funny no I mean FUNNY. Funny rocks.

3.) Dad Gone Mad: He calls his wife "Hotwife" which is so totally endearing and he’s in awe of the children he fathered which is ALSO totally endearing but that’s beside the point. Ever since his post about the pussy pen at the doctors office I haven’t been able to look away. Furkin’ funny. Go. Visit Him. Now.

4.) Imp’s Playground: Another Daddyblogger who gets MY vote for Funny Father Of The Year as well as a side order of AWWW HE"S SO SWEET ABOUT HIS FAMILY! Getting a chance to see what a man has to say about the family is a great thing.

5.) Not That You Asked: She’s young, X-tremely pregnant (as of the moment but that could change at ANY minute), and so funny I can’t wait to see what her KID comes up with. It started the day she dumped Hambone (the dog) out the window by accident and I’ve been stalking her since…

6.) Jennster: The ’ster…you know she gets like a monthly pimp from me ‘cause anyone this hot and this funny deserves some space in MY writing. If that soon to be husband doesn’t treat her right I’ll marry her myself. Too much woman for one person! We heart the ’ster.

7.) Suburban Turmoil: I think she’s the only woman I know who managed to make a profession out of being ONE HOT MAMA KNOCKED UP AND FUNNY! She’s also a fellow "trophy wife" which I so love… She has her own column as well as her blawg so dig right in.

8.) Woulda Coulda Shoulda: What can I say about Mir that hasn’t already been said like a bagillion times by so many? She’s funny, perky, touching, smart, witty. blawg blawg blawg…but to TOP that she writes REGULARLY so I have a nearly DAILY new dose of Mir which is furkin’ amazing because I can’t be that funny twice in one WEEK and she does it EVERY.STINKING.DAY!

9.) Amalah: I can totally relate to this woman and I love that. If she was my neighbor we’d have burned this neighborhood to the ground (and gotten arrested MANY times for indecent and lewd behavior I am sure) just because I think she’d be that damn funny when drunk. Heck…she makes me pee when she’s sober folks. That says it ALL.

10.) Kitty can Scratch: Since I am a former New Yawkuh myself I lurk on this girl’s site daily and love the fact that I am no LONGER a New Yawkuh because I simply do NOT have her energy. She loves the city in ways that makes me remember only the good stuff though and is a strong woman getting stronger as well as funnier all the time. We do like her bf too and I secretly feel that he is the brother of a good friend of my husband but if he isn’t so what…he’s adorable and he posts WITH her and FOR her which is so…well go see…he/she/they are amazing.

11.) My Pink Shoe: Whoduhthunkit woulda been funny??? But she is and it is and sometimes I just want to squeeze her she’s so adorable. I can remember the days I was just like her and it’s nice to recapture some youth.

12.) Blog Portland: Oh man he’s BAD and yet so GOOD and if I wasn’t totally head over heels in love with and utterly truly deeply married to the BEST man in the world (and THIS guy didn’t have a S.O. of epic qualities as well) I’d consider him a babydaddy candidate. Funny THIS good is BONE DEEP.

13.) Novelist in Training: Because I totally relate to the title - I am one as well, and because I have read her nearly as long as Lena I feel safe putting her at the end of the list because she KNOWS I heart her BIG time. She’s witty, talented, crazy, touching…heck she’s a friggin’ BLOGGESS and if I was a guy I’d want to touch her…

*glances around cautiously* I think I can hit the post button now without smoking myself… Y’all have a GREAT weekend and do visit those links ‘cause if I had 2 minutes to rub together (hard and fast and thus get FOUR minutes) I would post these folks PERMANENTLY as links from here to there. I heart them that much!

Well I haven’t written in like…a week…but I do beg your forgiveness. I don’t like to write unless I have something to say if you know what I mean. I’ve been so flogged with "going’s ons" lately that I’ve been speechless. That and…I have had something on my mind but I wasn’t sure if I should write about it. It’s fairly, well really it’s VERY, controversial. I know it’s not P.C. but heck. I have spoken with a few people about it and it seems that I am not alone in my opinion, humble as it is. So I thought…let me put it out there and if anyone has input I’ll take the hits.

It all started with a trip to the local amusement park. There was a family there, a rather large family, whose children were swimming in jeans and shirts OR their underpants. Yeah SWIMMING as in, water, paddling, splashing…swimming.  ALL of the children did not have swimsuits or even shorts. It hit me then that they might be low income and could not afford the "extra niceties" such as swimsuits or even SHORTS. Now I am not a prig believe me. I have BEEN there in the low income brackets MANY times for LONG periods of time. I DID make sure that my kids had at least SHORTS on to swim but hey…whatever. The thing that BOTHERED me was how the whole thing blew up. The attendants at the park kindly asked the parents to take their children OUT of the water or suit them in shorts at the very least. Jeans held too much water and were a drowning risk in the deeper sections of the wave pool and underwear were…see thru and immodest in this heavily christian land. The mother..she did not speak English - AT.ALL. The father did not either…they were forced to rely on a relative who spoke BROKEN English (broken between Spanish and English) to semi-translate for them. They THEN have the nerve to get ANGRY at the attendant saying that this was discrimination ("You no want us because we Mexicanos! We not have big money! We not get good big money job!") and throw FITS as loud and shrill as they could.

I am sorry but this is where I began my whole thought process on the subject which is now a mental tirade.

IF YOU WANT THE "GOOD BIG MONEY JOB" SPEAK THE FRIGGIN’ LANGUAGE!!!!!

Hey I am ALL for pride in your ethnic background baby but don’t let it CRIPPLE you! You refuse to learn OUR language and instead insist that we cater to yours? You came HERE baby and OUR language is AMERICAN (for those of you who imagine WE speak English please refer to the country that actually DOES which is England). If I left THIS country to go to..say…Italy…it would behoove me to learn the FRIGGIN’ LANGUAGE so I could get along with the NATIVES and not make THEM accomodate ME. No…you come HERE and insist that WE learn SPANISH, post our street signs in SPANISH, write our indications, directions, warnings, and pamphlets in SPANISH…shoot…it’s gotten to the point that those who speak Spanish as a second language are going to get preference for JOBS over those who DON’T and ONLY speak OUR NATIVE TONGUE! I have ZERO problems with bilingual skills, I encourage it in my children but GEEZ folks. This is AMERICA not little Spain or BIG MEXICO.

So they don’t learn the language but they want high paying jobs. High paying jobs require that they be fluent in OUR language but that is DISCRIMNATION and it threatens their cultural identity. Speaking a new language isn’t going to erase who or what you are…it just makes you MORE EDUCATED. Now they have LOW income jobs and LOW income housing and LOW income lifestyles and they want MORE but won’t work for it. They want to get their salaries and NOT pay into Social Security, disability, or the Medicaid system but they damn sure WANT SOME. They are supposed to be able to get all sorts of economic assistance but they take and don’t GIVE while we GIVE and are labeled as discriminatory if we ask that they at LEAST learn the FRIGGIN’ LANGUAGE!

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not judging ALL of our immigrant friends, many are solid people who are my pleasure to call friends. They work HARD, go to school at night, raise respectable and hard working children just as I do, and look for a better life for their families JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. They don’t want a handout, they don’t want special consideration, and they are PROUD to be working on becoming American Citizens. The folks I am talking about HERE are the ones that expect US to mold to what THEY want and give nothing in return…nothing…not effort, not kindness, not even the respect to speak our native freakin’ language!

But hey this is America and we are all about freedom so you are FREE to speak whatever language you want, hold on to your identity with all ten claws, and refuse to become a part of our country…and WE are FREE to NOT CATER TO YOUR EVERY DEMAND and be ourselves…and we just happen to SPEAK THE FREAKIN’ LANGUAGE. We also are free to tell you that we don’t like that you refuse to speak it and that WE refuse to speak yours.

Roll THAT in your burrito and smoke it.

1.) 39 years ago today, very nearly to the hour as well, my mother became a mother for the first time. I wonder if she was as awestruck as I was on MY first day…
2.) 39 years ago, these shoulders that crack when I put on my t-shirt and all my OTHER parts were brand.spankin’.NEW.
3.) 39 years ago, I didn’t have a care in the world. It was all someone else’s problem. I did not value that properly.
4.) 39 years ago my husband’s wife was born and he was ALREADY out of line…
5.) 39 years ago I was in PERFECT health, not a mar on my body, nor even a stretchmark.
6.) 39 years ago there weren’t blogs nor personal computers to write out blogs. Heck there wasn’t even an internet yet.
7.) 39 years ago Billie Gentry sang Ode to Billie Joe. I still wonder where the heck the Tallahachee Bridge is…
8.) 39 years ago I entered the world so I could share the day with J.R.R. Tolkien, significantly OLDER than I am but we share a birthday - hey great minds and all…
9.) 39 year ago I entered the world on a very SPECIAL day - today night and day are of equal length. Thus began the reign of OCD in MY life…
10.) 39 years ago Faith Hill and Tyler Stewart (Barenaked Ladies) decided to join the world so they could share MY birthday.
11.) 39 years ago the average new car cost $2,425, gas was $0.33/gal, a new home was $24,600 (give or take), the average annual income was $8,801/yr, and minimum wage was $1.40/hr.
12.) 39 years ago, once again seeking to begin an illustrious relationship with the OCD fairy I was born when there were EXACTLY 100 days left in the year.
13.) 39 years ago today…this also converts to:
2035 weeks (rounded down)
14,246 days
341,904 hours
20,514,240 minutes
or
1,230,854,400 seconds

We celebrate my birthday AND the anniversary of OCD’s newest member of the club…oh and my husband says he can feel every moment of the last 5,493,600 minutes.

Happy Birthday To Me and to all the other September 22 people out there. And on a rather disturbed note…we ALL know what our parents were doing on the Christmas PRIOR to this day *raises eyebrow*
I wonder if my mother got pine needles stuck to her butt…

Me: I love you Goobernut

Goobernut: I love you to Mama.

Me: Oh yeah? Well I love YOU the MOST of anyone who loves you!

Goobernut: Me too but I love you more than you loves me.

Me: Oh REALLY…and how much exactly is MORE?

Goobernut: Eleventy Twelve.

Me: …

Goobernut: You ok Mama?

Me: Oh yeah son, I’ve never been better than right now.

When you ask WHY you "put up with the shennanigans"…that’s why.

Yeah it’s that time of year again. Normally I keep the fact that my birthday is just ’round the corner a very very tight secret but I have decided to embrace it this year and let people celebrate me. No really…normally I do SUCH a good job even family forget that it’s my birthday. This is a self effacing thing and not really good for the soul since I end up resenting everyone for forgetting (which is precisely what I had tried to get them to do - an evil circle if you will).

Well not THIS year baby! This year I embraced the girl in me and asked for (and received oh thank you Gods of The Shiny Things!) this watch:

 

This was from my Hunny (the Gunny) He rocks. We were just at the jewelers to get my rings resized since I had lost a lot of weight and WHAMO…there was this pretty thing which almost very nearly kinda matches the Seiko that I had bought HIM for HIS birthday. I said "HEY! LOOKIT! MATCHIES!" - just because I AM older doesn’t mean I ACT older…

After a few struggles he got me to admit that I liked it and coveted it like a crow after aluminum foil so he bought it. We do like the Gunny as much as we love him…

BUt that’s not really the STORY here. I wanted to share with you the flip side of age…the patheticness that becomes you…the suckage of what excites you…how you become obsessed with…

CLEAN

I really wish I could get that word to blink and sparkle…

Anyway.

I also asked for (and received oh happy day!) a carpet steamer. Nevermind that I own a Kirby which is one step below the VERY model that Mother Mary uses to keep Heaven up to snuff…which also comes with all the bells, whistles, attachments, and options that make it the machine of the century and will cause your kids to contest your WILL. I mean this thing vacuums AND shampoos and will even GROOM YOUR FRIGGIN’ DOG….but never mind that I have that. Shampooed is simply not clean enough for a carpet that MY precious piddies traipse across. Oh no…I need…

CLEAN

I really think there should be a booming male voice to go with that…

I asked for a carpet steamer because much like the crow and aluminum foil again…I COVET clean. Now initially I was drooling over the idea of a Roomba - for those not clean-tech savvy this is a robot that SELF vacuums your floors. One of my online faves; Mir, posts about it here and she’s why I was heading in that direction (all YOUR fault Mir!). But when I read the reviews and noticed that MOST users, while happy with it’s performance stated two important things

(1) It will not take the place of ALL your vacuuming needs - which for me is basically NEVER having to do it myself again. EVER.

and

(2) The hopper that collects the debris is really kinda small - which is a PROBLEM for me I have 2 dogs, a cat, a rabbit, guinea pig, 4 kids, husband, and run a DAYCARE up in this piece…I need a hopper the size of my GARAGE.

Now why I expected even for a moment that the hopper on piece of equipment the size of a wheelbarrow tire would actually do it for me is till a mystery but I am no longer hallucinating about a robotic clean.

No I had to have a carpet STEAMER. A gal pal of mine had one sitting in her garage when I went to visit and the antennae went UP and I said…"HEY! How does that thing work for you?" She rolled her eyes and started with the GUSHAGE about how she SWEARS by it and it is a LIFESAVER and it totally ROCKS etc etc ad cleaneum. Now the goose bumps start…she is the High Priestess of Clean this pal. I go to her house NOT just for the company and laughs (or to visit with her great kids), I like to stand there and feel the CLEANNESS of the molecules in the air brush against my skin like the caress of a whispered promise. You get the picture now - I am obsessed with clean (relax I wasn’t going with the CLEAN thing again).

I had to have one. That very one very right now.

I made sure I announced it to the Gunny, canceled my wishing for the Roomba out loud, showed reviews for the NEW obsession all around. Told the kids, renamed the cat, posted pictures on my desktop…Oh I was SUBTLE.

Then I dragged them all to the store - Wal-y-world HOH! We shopped and compared, discussed (until eyes were glazing over all around me) the various merits of each and EH-VUH-REE piece…and then I heard it….the three magic words…

"So buy it."

Now not being one to jump in haste I did give Gunny 48 hours to repent - the model I wanted was 2 bills, but he stuck with it and I rationlized agreement in the form of - "OK…so it’s $50 per kid a gift from all four kids for my birthday."

So I picked it up this weekend. Oh this is a solid piece of equipment and it will suck the shell off of a turtle crawling past your house a block away….

But this is not the Lameness that is Me which you are surely waiting for yes? THIS is it - Gunny and the Kadiddles were out there celebrating the GLORY of my birthday coming soon (by which I mean they did NOT forget and heaped gifts at my feet causing extreme siezures of happiness in me and thereby they avoided the dark roiling cloud of discontent that results from not having remembered my birthday) and the BEAUTY of our world and me? The cleanaholic in me got this:

So while THEY were outside doing THIS:

and THIS:

I was INSIDE doing THIS:

and THIS:

While taking pictures of THIS which I got out of the machine and consequently out of the carpet:

Oh I gloried as I cleaned and I celebrated and I laughed…

like Renfield…

I’m so lame.

But my carpet. She is

CLEAN

Meal in a Loaf Stromboli

Ingredients:
1 Tbsp butter or margarine
1 cup sliced mushrooms
1/2 cup chopped green peppers
1/2 cup diced yellow onion
1 lb frozen bread dough - defrosted
1/4 lb thinly sliced ham
1/4 lb thinly sliced salami
1/4 ln sliced provolone
1 1/2 oz. sliced pepperoni
oregano
parmesan cheese

In a large skillet melt butter or margarine and saute vegetables until they are tender but the peppers are not mushy. Drain the veggies and set aside (the juices will make your stromboli soggy if you don’t drain them). Line a large baking sheet with heavy duty aluminum foil. Place dough in center of lined sheet and using your fingers pat and press it out until it is a 14" square. Layer the meats and cheese down the center of the square. Top with the sauteed veggies. Using a sharp knife, cut 8 cuts into the dough from the outer edge in towards the center within 1 1/2"of the filling (see diagram) so that there is a "fringe" of dough strips to either side of the stack of filling running down the center. Alternately fold the strips, overlapping them, in towards the center to cover the filling and make a "braided log". Cover and let rise in a warm, draft free place for 1 to 1 1/2 hours (until the roll has doubled in bulk). Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Uncover the stromboli and bake for 45 minutes or until it is
uniformly golden brown. While it is still piping hot out of the oven sprinkle with parmesan cheese and oregano if desired.

I do apologize for the long absence…my husband is home on leave for two weeks and since I haven’t seen him in 8 months…well you know…

To offer a sort of "suck-up so you don’t hate me anymore" I have some favorite passed down recipes to share since I have been COOKING up a storm (why is it that we women are convinced that NOBODY can feed our family like we can even if they seem reasonably fit and trim after an extended absence?).

First, in THIS post, my Grannies Everything Cookies. These are holiday cookies and the ONE dough makes three different types of holiday cookies.

Grandma’s "Everything" Cookie Recipe
*makes thumbrints, crescents, and snowballs*

2 cups flour
1 cup cornstarch
1 cup confectioners sugar
3 sticks margarine (softened)
*finely chopped walnuts, pecans, or other choice of soft nutmeat* - for crescents and snowballs
fruit PRESERVES (NOT JELLY!)

Mash all of the above ingredients with a fork until a coarse mealy tecture is rreached. Finish dough mixing by using the back of a spoon to smoosh together (pressing against the bottom of the bowl) until the dough sticks together. Seperate into 3 seperate bowls and mix the nuts with 2 of the 3 bowls. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes. Working with one bowl at a time (from kneading to shaping and baking), remove dough from fridge and knead dough for a few minutes to soften. Follow directions below for each individual type of cookie.

Thumbprints:
Roll dough into 1′ balls and flatten slightly with the palm of your hand. In the center, press in with your thumb to form a slight "bowl". Fill the "bowl" with preserves of your choice (MY faves are strawberry, blueberry, and reaspberry). Place on cookie sheet 1 inch apart (these cookies do not spread out as they bake). Bake in a preheated oven at 300 degrees for 20-25 minutes or untl golden around the edges.

Crescents:
Roll dough into 1′ balls and flatten slightly with the palm of your hand. Gently, using your fingers, shape the flattened balls into banana shapes that are sort of flat. Place on cookie sheet 1" apart and bake in preheated oven at 300 degrees for 20-25 minutes or until golden. Cool COMPLETELY before dredging the crescents in confectioners sugar and placing on a plate.

Snowballs:
Roll dough into 1" balls and DO NOT FLATTEN. Place gently (so as not to SQUISH them) on a cookie tray 1" apart. Bake in preheated oven at 300 degrees for 20 - 25 minutes until golden and the one cookie you are willing to sacrifice to the ART is cooked through when you break it open with a fork.. Allow cookies to cool COMPLETELY before you dredge them in powdered sugar and place on a plate.

 

Enjoy the praise.

Another week, another list. I am feeling kinda frisky - may be because the spouse will be in the house in two days…who knows…but here’s a decidedly ADULT list.

13 things that SOUND dirty but aren’t…really.

1.) "Packing my ‘chute" - I’ve heard this more than once because I live near an Airforce base…it makes me crack up every time.
2.) "I jigged around at the Beaver Farm" - I shit you not…here: http://freespace.virgin.net/r.spencer/Venues/Surrey/beaver.htm
3.) "My ‘member broke" - as in what my 4 year old told me when he FORGET something (as in "My rememberer broke" - easy kiddo)
4.) "Mama lookit my chubbie!" - As in what the 3 year old next door said out loud when someone gave him a teletubby toy for his birthday.
5.) "A bird in the hand…" - Is a guy who knows how to "fly solo".
6.) "Trimming my bush" - as in what my mother in law’s answer was when the surgeon who was stitching up her hand asked what she had been DOING to slice the webbing between thumb and forefinger so deeply. In this case it WAS merely gardening. The surgeon nearly sewed her hand to his table.
7.) "Buzzing the tower" - An old male type friend once commented on a young lady who would hum while she had a certain something in her mouth…
8.) "Stuffing the bird." - Sorry but I remember what bird was slang for…
9.) "Grouting the crack". I don’t think I need to explain this one to the adults do I?
10.) "Pussyfoot" - OK ewwww.
11.) "Tooting my own horn." - Some guy who does NOT need companionship of any sort.
12.) "Snaking the line" - Let’s THINK now…
13.) "Greasing his tool" - as in what my 10 year old told me when I asked what Daddy was doing hunched over the hood of his car with a can of 4 in 1 oil.

Oh can’t the two of you ever stop fighting!? It seems that all day long at every opportunity one of you is saying something cutting and cruel to the other in the most venomous and sarcastic tone of voice. Can’t either one of you remember how it was in the beginning? You seemed to live to spend moments together. From the moment one of you awoke, there was a mad dash until you could find and then spend time with the other one. It was love and like. No two brothers were closer.

Big E you would announce to anyone that would take a moment to admire Brinie that he was "your baby".

"Das MY baby!"

"What’s his name?"

"Buy-uhn. He’s MY baby."

You would lay on the floor on your side, torso curled protectively around one side of him as he lay there on his back. You’d hum, talk to him (or yourself), and play, the whole while forming a human shell between him and the world. I’d catch you, many times, just staring at him; his face, his hands while he grasped things. You seemed fascinated in the process of him discovering the world. You’d even bring him a small pile of your things and then curl around to watch as he lifted and explored each one. If I put him on his back with the "jungle gym" over him, you’d crawl under there with him and lay side by side on your back to bat at, talk about, and demonstrate the use of, each of the dangling articles.

You were his biggest fan.

When he sat up you cheered and taught him how to clap. He in turn rewarded you with his rare but truly genuine toothless grins. When he used his own legs to support himself in the walker/saucer you jumped up and down and yelled for him. In turn, he would use those sturdy legs to attempt to "jump" by alternately stiffening up and then collapsing, every time he saw you enter a room. When he learned to feed himself you made a spectacle of yourself as you darted in to make silly faces at him and then hooted with laughter and darted away. He learned how to make goofy faces from you and would "sniffy face" whenever you were silly for him. He’d collapse in a giggling heap as you would zip around carolling at the top of your lungs as he attempted to crawl and follow you. The best laugh we have ever heard out of him was the day you tried to roller skate and your dad held him to watch you. As your legs were shooting out in all directions and you attempted  stand, a genuine hilarious belly laugh came rolling out of your baby brother…and everyone around us laughed along.

You were his hero. He wanted to look like you, dress like you, do everything you did, and say everything you said.

And then I guess he had the audactiy to do something uniquely him and you didn’t approve…or even notice. It was as if your disciple had gone astray. He could never have hoped to be as physical as you, he’s too small and frankly you are kidzilla. He turned instead to things of the mind; science, numbers, OCD’ish organizing and categorizing. You lost interest in him. He would happily have included you in the new world he was discovering but you are more interested in things like skateboarding, football, jumping ramps on your bike, general mayhem. He can’t hope to follow unless he spends ten times as much time doing it then you do. You are gifted physically, him, mentally. He’s also frankly not interested in doing an ollie. He’d rather catch a bug and exmine the veins in it’s wings and feathering of it’s antennae under a microscope. You will look once and then can’t be bothered. Bugs is bugs. He wants to categorize them by examining each one.

So you are vastly different yet in all the ways that really count you are the same. You are blood, you have history, you are male. You were there when he came into our lives and aside from your father and I you know him best. I know for a fact that when he sleeps over Nana’s house you miss him like a lost limb. I’ve seen the lost look in your eyes and have sensed that you are unusually bored and out of sorts. Why can’t you see that or remember it when he returns?

Why must you fight so much?

Now when he does something you either correct him with acid in your tone or tell him it is "nothing" and how you could do it better. All he wants is for you to do what you used to; praise him for his accomplishments. He wants you to notice him and be proud of him. He used to get excited over your approval. He’s learning to pretend he doesn’t care anymore and he’s learning to talk nastily back to you. He knows he disappoints you because he can’t do the things you can but he praises you and admires you for what YOU can do…even if you are completely and utterly disinterested in and criticize what he does.

Why can’t you hear and see what you are destroying?

He is now all of the big brother you are not to the youngest son. He is admiring, encouraging, and supportive. He has a playmate and a helper and they are as different as you and he are. The youngest is totally physical as you are but he is interested also in what Brinie does so he learns the mental as well. Brinie in turn is becoming more physical and more daring. Had you given him the time, those boring and lonely days you expereince when none of your friends are home would not happen. You could join your brothers. They have their own little world now and frankly they find your intrusions upsetting. You are too rough, too loud, too controlling…and they were peacefully enjoying themselves before you jumped in and started hurting them and trying to make them perform. You are not as welcome as you once would have been if you were willing to allow their differences and not demand that they do as you do instead of as they can.

You are losing them both and you can’t see what your part in it is. It’s all what jerks they are being in your eyes. You can not see or hear how you contributed.

If only you would read what your mother writes and learn. You are lonely and left behind, and it’s all someone else’s fault. Your best built in allies in life are alienated and you are going to be left all alone when your parents are gone.

Why must you fight?

So I am scurrying to make sure I have the yard looking good. My husband is coming home on leave very soon and it’s been WAAAYYY to hot and muggy to work outside OR it’s been raining. We have this "scheduled" rain thing at this time of year. The very MOMENT the last Daycare kid goes home it rains. Yes Southern Georgia it’s MY fault. I want to do yard work or vacuum the pool so it’s raining on YOU.

Anyway, the scope of work I had to face two weeks ago was fairly daunting but we are down to mere normal now except for the mushrooms. When it is very hot and very muggy and very rainy we get mushrooms…FIELDS of them. Of course this being Southern Georgia (the one wherein every freakin’ venomous spider known to man and two or more that nobody has seen before lives) we don’t do even the MUSHROOM thing without adding a little style to it. You have to be here to understand it. we have bugs that science is defied to describe and we do things LARGE here. Let me show you large…

Here’s a mushroom we found growing in my backyard this week. It was next to the wooden playset..

Oh I can do better than that! It doesn’t give you ANY idea how big that sucker was…how about THIS?

There’s Marty the Shroom and there’s a kid and his head…any questions?

I’ll be riding the mower today and carrying a big stick. Who knows what’s happened to the bugs…