I am currently experiencing something that I have never experienced in my entire life. I view it as a complete blessing from Heavenly Father. I have woman friends.
I was the person in school that never really seemed to have lots of friends. I just didn't make friends easily. I still don't make friends easily but we have been in this house now for 4 years (the longest we have lived in one place in our entire marriage) and I am making friends. Good friends. I have friends I can laugh and cry with, turn to for advice or to vent. I have friends that give me a kick in the butt when I need it. We eat Thai food together.
My DH and I have a good marriage, even a great marriage. He is my beloved best friend. If he is the cake, the woman friends in my life have been the frosting. You can live on cake alone (and enjoy it) but you know that cake is better with frosting-even just a little bit. He is yellow cake-my friends are chocolate fudge frosting-homeade, not from a can.
My woman friends have added a dimension to my life that I didn't realize existed. I am beginning to understand more why women of the past clung to their dear friends so fiercely. I have found "kindred spirits."
Thank you my friends.
Thank you Heavenly Father for putting them in my life.
For those who don't know me and my friends--I have great friends. We are all different. Some of us have lots of children and some none. Some are close and some are far (and we get the long distance package with unlimited minutes and the phone company loses money on us!) The kids are all different ages (but there seems to be lots of boys!). We are all not of the same faith. Some homeschool and some don't. What we eat goes all over the place-vegan, no dairy, no restrictions, no food dyes, white flour, whole grain everything. We got Democrats and Republicans and moderates and conservatives and Independents. The common thread is respect. We respect each other and value each others' experiences.
I have great friends.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Date Night with #3
#3 earned a private date with the parent of his choice. I was the chosen parent. He picked riding his bike to the local ice cream store. Since it was pouring here, DH and I convinced him I could just drive him (versus riding the bike). This is a bit of the conversation:
#3: Mom....you awa a young mudda wight? (you are a young mother right?)
Mama: Well, that sorta depends. (cause I sure ain't no spring chicken anymore-I am a summer chicken)
#3: Weww, you don't hav wumpy fingas. (Well, you don't have lumpy fingers.)
Mama: Oh, you mean on my knuckles? (and I showed him my hand)
#3: Yeah. (he curls my hand into a ball and touches my knuckles) Tommy's mom-she has wumpy fingas AND white haiw. You don't have white haiw or wumpy fingas so you are a young mudda. It is sowta like dandelions-when they are young, they awa aww fuww of yewwow and when they get old-they are aww white. Muddas are wike dat you know.
Mr. Wisdom strikes again.
Parents are like dandelions. When they are young they are full of color. When they are old they get white. Doesn't that just glamourize aging?
After we got home, he thanked me for taking him on a date and gave me a HUGE hug and kiss. sigh
#3: Mom....you awa a young mudda wight? (you are a young mother right?)
Mama: Well, that sorta depends. (cause I sure ain't no spring chicken anymore-I am a summer chicken)
#3: Weww, you don't hav wumpy fingas. (Well, you don't have lumpy fingers.)
Mama: Oh, you mean on my knuckles? (and I showed him my hand)
#3: Yeah. (he curls my hand into a ball and touches my knuckles) Tommy's mom-she has wumpy fingas AND white haiw. You don't have white haiw or wumpy fingas so you are a young mudda. It is sowta like dandelions-when they are young, they awa aww fuww of yewwow and when they get old-they are aww white. Muddas are wike dat you know.
Mr. Wisdom strikes again.
Parents are like dandelions. When they are young they are full of color. When they are old they get white. Doesn't that just glamourize aging?
After we got home, he thanked me for taking him on a date and gave me a HUGE hug and kiss. sigh
Monday, May 8, 2006
Its the Dreadful Day
Today is the bi-annual Dreadful Day. The day of sorting-clothing sorting. The winter clothes are put away, thrown away or donated and the summer clothes are coming out. The laundry is done (or the washers are started) and the attics are being cleared of the clothing boxes.
I might emerge tomorrow. I hope.
I might emerge tomorrow. I hope.
Sunday, May 7, 2006
Proud Mama Moment
#3 bore his testimony during Sacrament Meeting.
He had no help and it was his own choice.
He had no help and it was his own choice.
Saturday, May 6, 2006
Overheard
Tonight #3, 4 and 5 were all in the library (living room). DH put #5 down to bed and #3 and 4 were reading books. #2 came in and read a book to #4. #3 read a book to #4. He then went to the shelf and pulled off a new book to read.
"Mama-let's wead 'Hideous Geowge and the Chocwat Factowy'."
Yep, that is right. It is no longer Curious George-it is Hideous George. I had to walk away so I didn't laugh in his face. I
brought him to DH and had him tell Daddy what the name of his book was.
"Hideous Geowge and the Chocwat Factowy"
snicker
Later, during a quiet moment I told him that the name wasn't actually Hideous George-it was Curious George.
#3: What does cuwious mean?
Mama: The monkey asks lots of questions about everything and loves to explore--just like you.
He got a very cute little smile on his face and was very happy.
"Mama-let's wead 'Hideous Geowge and the Chocwat Factowy'."
Yep, that is right. It is no longer Curious George-it is Hideous George. I had to walk away so I didn't laugh in his face. I
brought him to DH and had him tell Daddy what the name of his book was.
"Hideous Geowge and the Chocwat Factowy"
snicker
Later, during a quiet moment I told him that the name wasn't actually Hideous George-it was Curious George.
#3: What does cuwious mean?
Mama: The monkey asks lots of questions about everything and loves to explore--just like you.
He got a very cute little smile on his face and was very happy.
Wednesday, May 3, 2006
Popcorn Ceiling
I think Cindy is right. I am allergic to the popcorn ceiling in the basement. My hives were virtually gone this morning. I went downstairs and swept and worked and they are red again. I called DH. This is the conversation:
Me: I think we need to paint the ceiling.
DH: Oh, why?
Me: To close up whatever it is that I am allergic to and so when the boys (notice that was when-not if) horse around down there and knock some off the ceiling I won't immediately have lips that puff up. (Yes, Angelina Jolie lips.)
DH: You think they are going to goof off down there? When there is a nice couch down there?
My dear husband-did you eat this morning? Were your cinnamon raisin bagels spiked with some sort of anti-memory drug? Remember the children? your children? The same ones that have been in our house for the last 10 1/2 years? They draw comic strips about the Kingdom of Fartalot and can't clear the dinner table without going into goofy laughing convulsions or a wrestling match?
You know, the children that have attempted to go out second story windows, climb the kitchen shelves, the library shelves, onto and into the washer and dryer, the little ones that still think they are part monkey and make those cute little, "ooo, eeee" noises? The little one that lays across the back of the couch so he can pounce on an older brother when he is least aware? Is your memory coming back now??
Those children will be using the downstairs room.
What makes you think a couch is going to change their behavior? It seems that you and I (their parents) can't change their behavior.
I will have it painted before you get home from work.
Me: I think we need to paint the ceiling.
DH: Oh, why?
Me: To close up whatever it is that I am allergic to and so when the boys (notice that was when-not if) horse around down there and knock some off the ceiling I won't immediately have lips that puff up. (Yes, Angelina Jolie lips.)
DH: You think they are going to goof off down there? When there is a nice couch down there?
My dear husband-did you eat this morning? Were your cinnamon raisin bagels spiked with some sort of anti-memory drug? Remember the children? your children? The same ones that have been in our house for the last 10 1/2 years? They draw comic strips about the Kingdom of Fartalot and can't clear the dinner table without going into goofy laughing convulsions or a wrestling match?
You know, the children that have attempted to go out second story windows, climb the kitchen shelves, the library shelves, onto and into the washer and dryer, the little ones that still think they are part monkey and make those cute little, "ooo, eeee" noises? The little one that lays across the back of the couch so he can pounce on an older brother when he is least aware? Is your memory coming back now??
Those children will be using the downstairs room.
What makes you think a couch is going to change their behavior? It seems that you and I (their parents) can't change their behavior.
I will have it painted before you get home from work.
Monday, May 1, 2006
Anyone have any cheese and crackers to go with my WHINE?
If you want you may have wine but I just gotta whine...
I have been fighting a sore throat for 6 weeks now. It comes and it goes. I did a round of antibiotics. After that didn't work I did a round of herbals. Now, after that not working I have broken out in hives from head to toe. Yes, head to toe. I thought I could be a big kid and not have to see the doctor but yesterday after my palms were itching (haven't heard about itchy palms since high school, eh?) and my lips started swelling, I headed to Bon Secours ER. (I could have stopped for Sunday breakfast Carin!)
If you want really good service at an ER just telling them allergic reaction and swelling lips. I beat out the guy that was losing feeling in his hand, had a huge bag of pills and brought every family member including the second cousins twice removed and the hoochie mama girlfriend. In the Detroit area going to the ER is a party event, bring the whole darn family. That way Grampa can have a heart attack from all the complaining he is doing because, "Them doctors ain't seeing his boy." That is, of course, if the doctors can understand him because he didn't put his dentures in.
The nurse talks to me and brings me back to triage. She does all the vitals, I fall in love with their scale that says I have lost almost 30 pounds since the beginning of the year instead of mine at home that says a measley 22. She takes me back to a room, the blood lady comes, the doctor comes, the blood lady blows out my vein after I told her not to use my hand, the doc starts rambling off drugs they are going to give me, I nod and they both leave. The nurse comes back gives me the drugs intravenously. Now we just wait to see if any of the angry bright red welts are changing. After 1 1/2 hours and a nap, the doc says I am getting better. He can see a change and I think I don't have Angelina Jolie lips anymore. I am discharged. At that time he gives me instructions that conflict with the instructions that are written down that the nurse has me sign. And those blood vials that were sitting on the table that I have this wonderful bruise for are thrown away.
I have pink hives today. After some research on the net, I have discovered that we will probably never know what causes this. It could be a viral infection (that sore throat) or an allergic reaction. I got steroids, a medicine to keep the steroids from giving me an ulcer and benadryl to keep me woosie. I also found out that prednisone can give you mood swings. Just what my sons want! An itchy, unpredictable mother!
Off to my primary care doctor today...
I have been fighting a sore throat for 6 weeks now. It comes and it goes. I did a round of antibiotics. After that didn't work I did a round of herbals. Now, after that not working I have broken out in hives from head to toe. Yes, head to toe. I thought I could be a big kid and not have to see the doctor but yesterday after my palms were itching (haven't heard about itchy palms since high school, eh?) and my lips started swelling, I headed to Bon Secours ER. (I could have stopped for Sunday breakfast Carin!)
If you want really good service at an ER just telling them allergic reaction and swelling lips. I beat out the guy that was losing feeling in his hand, had a huge bag of pills and brought every family member including the second cousins twice removed and the hoochie mama girlfriend. In the Detroit area going to the ER is a party event, bring the whole darn family. That way Grampa can have a heart attack from all the complaining he is doing because, "Them doctors ain't seeing his boy." That is, of course, if the doctors can understand him because he didn't put his dentures in.
The nurse talks to me and brings me back to triage. She does all the vitals, I fall in love with their scale that says I have lost almost 30 pounds since the beginning of the year instead of mine at home that says a measley 22. She takes me back to a room, the blood lady comes, the doctor comes, the blood lady blows out my vein after I told her not to use my hand, the doc starts rambling off drugs they are going to give me, I nod and they both leave. The nurse comes back gives me the drugs intravenously. Now we just wait to see if any of the angry bright red welts are changing. After 1 1/2 hours and a nap, the doc says I am getting better. He can see a change and I think I don't have Angelina Jolie lips anymore. I am discharged. At that time he gives me instructions that conflict with the instructions that are written down that the nurse has me sign. And those blood vials that were sitting on the table that I have this wonderful bruise for are thrown away.
I have pink hives today. After some research on the net, I have discovered that we will probably never know what causes this. It could be a viral infection (that sore throat) or an allergic reaction. I got steroids, a medicine to keep the steroids from giving me an ulcer and benadryl to keep me woosie. I also found out that prednisone can give you mood swings. Just what my sons want! An itchy, unpredictable mother!
Off to my primary care doctor today...
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