We use to pick blackberries together, her and I.  I didn't like blackberries, but it was fun picking them along the railroad tracks beside our apartment complex.  Our fingers would be stained deep purple, her tongue and lips would match.  I still like rasberries better.

She had chubby cheeks and the sweetest smile.  Made even sweeter by the silver caps in the front.  You never see kids with silver caps anymore... I guess they use something else now?  We weren't suppose to walk by the railroad tracks, but my mom didn't seem to be around much during the day when we were out playing.  As long as we were home by the time the street lights came on, we were free to play at our own pleasure.  (Not something we as parents have the luxury of doing today).

"Mandy, you want to play Barbies with me?"

Sigh.  Faintly I was tempted to go play my favorite game with my little sister, but then again, I was 10 now.  I was too old for Barbies.

"Let's play Flashdance instead"

"No, you always hog the living room floor"

We would bicker back and forth like this all the time.  We didn't really have anyone else to play with, but with five years age difference between us, there was little choice.  We were stuck together.  Most of the time I was annoyed by her constant presence.  Sometimes I was grateful to not be alone.

Especially late at night.  In the dark. 

Or when I came home from school and my mom was crying in a corner.  Overwhelmed by life and betrayal.  I'd take my sister's hand and we would go outside into a world of make believe.  Where we could be anything we wanted and go wherever our imaginations could take us.  Far away from being poor and sad. 

I use to hold her down, pinning her arms under my knees, straddling her and tickling her until she nearly peed her pants.  She would squeal.  I loved the feeling of power and dominance I had.  Sad, but oh so true.  Little did I know she would grow up to be about 5 inches taller than me.  I wouldn't attempt that trick now, I assure you.

But I was fiercly loyal and protective as well.  One day, two little nieghborhood girls yanked my sweet little sister from her big wheel bike by the hair of her head.  I was sitting on the top of the stairs playing when I witnessed this.  I ran down them two at a time and yanked one of the little girls off the bike by her pigtails and grabbed the other one by the hand and told them to never touch my sister or her things again or I'd make them very very sorry they did.

They ran away crying.  Straight to their mom.  About 15 minutes later, a very large woman with over-bleached blond hair and blood-red finger nails grabbed me by the arm and started yelling at me about being a role model and not bullying little babies (ha, her "babies" were the biggest bullies in our apartment complex).  I christened her "Bleachy Mama."

She had the intended effect though.  She scared the crap outta me.  I ran home and told my mother what happened.

The next chain of events will be forever carved into my memory.  My 95 pound (if that) mom grabbed a baseball bat from our toy box and stomped down our stairs towards Bleachy Mama's apartment, with me and my sister following at her tail. 

Banging on the door with the bat (nice one Mom!) she had the fiercest look in her eye (don't mess with a Mama Bear's cubs).  I don't remember my mother's exact words to Bleachy Mama, but it was somewhere along the lines of "don't touch or talk to my daughters again or I'll kick your fat ass".  Actually I am pretty sure those were her exact words. 

The two little girls stood behind there mama with wide eyes.  I am sure we had a similiar look on our faces as this all transpired.  Then Bleachy slammed the door in my mom's face and we went home.

Funny thing is, about 3 months later... we were all best friends, picking blackberries together by the railroad tracks.  I ended up teaching one of those little girls how to dance to my Cyndi Lauper tape I dubbed off the radio.  They never asked to ride my sister's big wheel and I don't ever remember seeing Bleachy Mama again. 

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So... I've been taking these with my cell phone to send to Steve to Afghanistan.   Thought I'd share them here, too!

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I just came across this site. so far I really like it. no lewd pictures (which is a huge annoyance to me!)  and no feminist agenda (which drives me batty!)

I can't tell you how many times i have come across sites that claims to promote "Woman centered birth"...  Where do I begin? first off bringing a newborn child into a family should never be centered around any one family member. YES it comes via the mom, but it is an experience for the whole family (which could be the dad and possibly other siblings and in some cases grandparents and friends..). There is nothing as miraculous as being the mother - birthing a chid out of your own body! what a wonder! it is a joy (and hard work) to bring a child in this world! it should be celebrated and enjoyed! a woman should feel proud to have been able to bring her child into this world having nourishing it through her body for 9 months and then bring it to her breast to nurse it and help it grow into a toddler and soon one day, an adult. bring a new being into this world is beautiful!

... but this idea of woman centered birth is just plain ridiculous. it's downright selfish. we fight so hard to have "equal rights", and now we just keep on going. we don't want equal rights - we want better! b/c we are mothers! *eyeroll*  I'm actually quite sick of this ideal! and it's just a false notion of what one wishes would be. truth is God designed it that we need others during pregnancy, labour, delivery and birth. sometimes, it's our husbands. sometimes our children, and sometimes it's just between a mother and God. but we are never the only one there.

What an insult it must be to God to create this child and put it in a womb and have a mother take all the glory!  God gives us these children to raise and grow. how hurt He must feel when we take all the glory for creating these beautiful little human beings.

not to mention how it must feel to the dad... has anyone said to these dad's how they myst feel victim to they're child's "woman centered birth"? I can't imagine how hurt i would feel how degraded and unimportant... and uninvolved i would feel to have my spouse claim the birth of our child was all about them. this sets a dangerous tone for the beginning of parenting.

I don't think any woman claims to want or promotes "woman centered birth" for the purpose of excluding other or making the dad feel unwanted. I assume they get to wrapped up in themselves, their feelings, and their needs they honestly don't think much about the dad's. I don't think it's a problem of bad intentions, but more a problem of inexperience at best and selfishness at worse. these blogs i read talking about it often say "of course there is also a place for dad, but..."  always followed by a  "but". as if to say "yes I recognize this is his child too... but it's more mine"
ugh.

the most beautiful births I have ever been to (including a very good friend of mine) where family centered births. the woman was knowledgeable, and the dad was right there experiencing the awe and wonder of the birthing process alongside the mom. It was a journey they took together; both with different but important roles. and it is BEAUTIFUL!  of course births can be different, sometimes the couple decide the father should take a bigger role than others at certain parts. some dads are "get in there and get your hands dirty" kinda guys, and some just stand by and smile - emotionally and spiritually supporting the mother. every couple is different and has different needs and desires. this sets a high functioning tone to start our parenting. these are the couples that raise their children together. that communicate and are happy.

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For the record, my kid is a good kid in general. Outside of the home that is. He gets good grades, he says please and thank you, he's invited back to other people's homes. Yay for everyone else. At home, he's an ass. And now he's started to be an ass to me in front of friends. But he's also 14, which should explain a lot.

I think I am raising a spoiled brat. Being around Rude Mom's kid isn't helping. Since Rude Mom likes to copy all of our activities, Rude Mom's kid is in the same program as mine, so they have been spending a lot of time together the past couple of weeks. (Background: Rude Mom = Rude Kid, aka juvenile delinquent in training.)

Today was the last straw. I'm not even going to get into it. Just typical disrespectful crap that Rude Mom's kid doles out to his mother, so my kid thinks it's okay to dole out to me. The difference is, Rude Mom has earned that disrespect by default, I have not. I parent; she sleeps til noon and stays out til 3 in the morning. (It must be nice. Grrr.) I will note that my kid doesn't pull this crap when Rude Mom's kid is not around.

Telling my kid I don't deserve his bullshit has to be used sparingly. While very true, I don't want to be a broken record. And reading off a littany of all the crap I've done for him is useless. Besides, considering I am the only adult figure, day in and day out, I am easy to ignore. But I expect a certain amount of decorum, no matter what. This sort of decorum was doable in my childhood household, so I think it's achievable in my home as the parent. I don't care if he agrees or even feels sincere about it. He just needs to shut up and check the attitude once in a while. When it's a big deal issue, he can get as pissy as he wants and we can fight it out. Stupid crap? No. I don't tolerate that. Behave or shut the fuck up or go outside. That's my solution.

I guess I don't have much tolerance for this stuff, do I? Adolescence will be the death of me.

I could take away TV and xbox and computer, but he doesn't use those much. Seriously. I could take away the phone? Take away Rude Mom's kid?

What else can I do to make his life miserable in order to show him that he has to at least pretend to respect me, in my home, in my car, in front of his friends, etc, etc, etc? Let me emphasize, I don't expect him to feel it, but I expect him to go thru the motions until he's mature enough to have it sink into his head.

So how does one do that? My mother's trump card was "I'm going to tell your father" or "Wait until your father gets home". Obviously that isn't going to work here. This is yet another reason I think fathers (present and involved) are important. They provide that deep voice to back up a mother, the voice that somehow makes children instantaneously compliant.

WTF do I use to get him to cutout the asswipe behavior?

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Moonpie didn't go poop yesterday but once in the morning.  I knew that when he finally went it was going to be big.  Well, he waited over night.  Nothing.  At about 10:30 this morning he had just finished a boob and was laying on a pillow in my lap.  All sweet, smiley, cooing.  So nice.  Then SPLAT!  GREEN POOP EXPLOSION!  It was so forceful that it came out the side of his diaper in a big wave and went all over him, the pillow, and then right down into my lap.  NICE!

I couldn't do anything but laugh as I stripped both of us down and got his bath ready.  It was probably the first bath where he was actually visibly dirty and needed to be cleaned!  GROSS!  But kind of funny. 

I almost grabbed the camera but then decided that it was not a moment that he would like for me to preserve for posterity.  I kind of regret that decision.

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What Our Kids Are Exposed To - Want to Add to the List? Can You Top These Cultural Icons and Influences?  Add to It in Comments and I'll Add to List:

Time to do something...

Role Models

Lindsey Lohan Rehab
Mary-Kate Rehab
Britney Basketcase
Hero "Role Model" Athletes:  any who use drugs, steroids, rape women, drive drunk, carry guns, sleep around and it makes the news.
Paris Hilton - a waste of space.  Cruel, self-centered and contributes nothing to the world.
Naomi Campbell - I'm rich so I can beat my maids and then go on SNL and make money parodying myself.

Favorite Shows
-Cribs - lifestyles of the rich and famous - up and coming "talent"
-My Super Sweet 16 - you want to see the most overindulged, nasty, ungrateful, snotty girls (and guys) get $200K "Sweet 16 Parties - complete with car from daddy (Mercedes, oh and watch Daddy pull out of the trunk of the 16 year old's new Benz, the surprise diamond Rolex in front of all her friends) after a whole show of kids trashing mom and dad for everything they do.  Sometimes they even have guys line up bare chested to choose who comes to the party.  Now isn't that SWEET?
-Tila Tequila For Love - Reality TV's Bisexual Bachelorette -  guys and gals vie for her AND prove  love by tatooing her name on themselves (one episode). Her reason for landing this show:  Had the most "friends" collected ever on MySpace.
-Jackass - need I say more?
-Date My Mom - boys take Moms out for dates hoping the boy will choose their daughter sight unseen (uhh, is this pimp my daughter?)
-Meet My Folks - parents and loser boyfriend/girlfriend watch while parents get a date for daughter son (and then watch daughter (mostly) on date making out while loser boyfriend and parents make nasty comments at each other.  Wholesome family fun.
-Swing town - Isn't that sweet?  Couple swapping drama in the disco '70's on prime time TV.  The ads make me sick.

Fun Things For Teens To Do:
-Steal prescription drugs from parents or buy them and mix them with alcohol and "regular recreational drugs"
-Shoplift - "everyone does it."
-Boys going up to girl classmates or guests they don't know and grinding them from behind at school dances - (14 year old boys, with chaperones and parents present and clergy!).
-Young teen version of "Hooking Up" - making out with a random guy (or a few) at a party
-Graffiti on nature's rock walls is still alive and well as is at trains, signs, etc,
-Huffing

Now here's the icing on the cake, a few of my "favorite" songs - the teens love.    Yes folks, our culture. 

Songs:

I Kissed A Girl - Katy Perry   (THE NEWEST BIG FAVORITE:  All the girls think it is a cool song.  I have no doubt guys love it.  Bisexual "fun"  I actually heard on radio, loved music and then heard lyrics.  Searched lyrics to post and saw video - looks like a singer in a bordello. OFFENSIVE.)
I kissed a girl and I liked it
The taste of her cherry chap stick
I kissed a girl just to try it
I hope my boyfriend don't mind it
It felt so wrong
It felt so right
Don't mean I'm in love tonight
I kissed a girl and I liked it
I liked it

No, I don't even know your name
It doesn't matter
You're my experimental game
Just human nature
It's not what, good girls do
Not how they should behave
My head gets so confused
Hard to obey

Baby Got Back - Sir Mix-a-Lot - been around a while, but played at chaperoned school dances
A few choice lyrics:
[Sir Mix-a-Lot]
I like 'em round, and big
And when I'm throwin' a gig
I just can't help myself, I'm actin' like an animal
Now here's my scandal
I wanna get you home
And ugh, double-up, ugh, ugh
I ain't talkin' bout Playboy
'Cause silicone parts are made for toys
I want 'em real thick and juicy
So find that juicy double
Mix-a-Lot's in trouble
Beggin' for a piece of that bubble
So I'm lookin' at rock videos
Knock-kneeded bimbos walkin' like hoes
You can have them bimbos
I'll keep my women like Flo Jo
A word to the thick soul sisters, I wanna get with ya
I won't cuss or hit ya
But I gotta be straight when I say I wanna *fuck*
Till the break of dawn
Baby got it goin' on
A lot of simps won't like this song
'Cause them punks like to hit it and quit it
And I'd rather stay and play
'Cause I'm long, and I'm strong
And I'm down to get the friction on
So, ladies! {Yeah!} Ladies! {Yeah}
If you wanna roll in my Mercedes {Yeah!}
Then turn around! Stick it out!
Even white boys got to shout
Baby got back!

And here's a real song of hope:

You Know Me - 2 Pistols

...Somethin serious ...Shorty you know wat it is

(Ray J) chrous
I know you shorty, you know me and you know I can't leave these streets, cause I mean its in my veins shorty wish I could stay but for now just pray for me.
I know you shorty, you know me so hard for me to leave these blocks got my head tied in a knot always runnin from the cops prayin that I don't get caught.

2 Pistols
You know I push it to the limit sun up, sun down, baby I got to get it, gotta get it..I gotta get it (repeat 1x)

(verse)
Baby girl, you know my situation. I know sometime you get impatient. I be on tha grind. You be at tha house, probably think Im at another broad house. Shorty I'm gettin money more than I've ever seen. True Religion jeans, I know you like those. Thats why I buy'em for ya
smile for me. You can't believe them hatin B**ches, they be lyin on me. Keep a nine on me, you know they plottin on me, you just keep that pu**y tight. I'm comin home early. I gotta get it, get it. I can't leave the streets. I did'nt choose tha hustle, tha hustle chose me.

(Ray J) chrous
I know you shorty, you know me and you know I can't leave these streets, cause I mean its in my veins shorty wish I could stay but for now just pray for me.
I know you shorty, you know me, so hard for me to leave these blocks got my head tied in a knot always runnin from the cops prayin that I don't get caught.

2 Pistols
You know I push it to the limit sun up, sun down, baby I got to get it, gotta get it..I gotta get it (repeat 1x)
(Ray J singing) Pray for me pray for me

Streets keep callin, the block keep on watchin. You're my shorty, hope'n you stay down be with me win or lose. Girl my heart is always with you, don't get confused. Just hold me down, I promise that we'll make it through.

(VERSE 2) 2 Pistols
I'm gettin money 24/7 life as a hustler, they wanna throw away the key and lock a ni**a up, I remember when they put me in handcuffs. I look you in tha eye "Shawty what u cryin for?" I'll be out in the morning, baby post bail. Get your hair done cause I'm comin straight over there. I trust her with tha money, shorty so real. I put them diamonds on her,
just to show I care. You stuck with a ni**a, in and out of jail. I know you love me baby, I put you through hell.
I gotta get it, get it. I can't leave the streets. I did'nt choose tha hustle, tha hustle chose me

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I'm a relatively mellow person these days. Moving away from the drama and cutting off various people who simply suck the life out of you will do that. My days are relatively simple. I play with my kids, I read, I knit, I indulge in my internet whoredom, I clean the house, I cook the meals.

And I am quite sure I am losing my FREAKIN' MIND.

I clean? I cook?

Cookbooks and a phone book.

I am not a housewife. I do not float around singing praises while I dust. I don't know neat little tricks to remove stains. I buy Tide Coldwater because I'm too lazy to change the water settings between loads. I have a neat little line of cookbooks that I never use because I'd rather improvise. I put pots and pans in the dishwasher on the high setting because I'd rather not was them by hand. Need I say more?

And yet, I was in Wal-Mart recently, going down the cleaning aisle and decided I needed a new pair of cleaning gloves. I'm not a fan of playing with scrubbing bubbles without rubber on my hands. And lo and behold, I found pink gloves with polka dots on them! They were a

These are exactly them.

That night, after the kids went to bed, I decided I needed to clean their bathroom. So I happily put on my new pink gloves and skipped into the bathroom. Guess what? They contain no happy super powers. They don't magically make a colorful cocktail to enjoy. They don't magically get rid of toothpaste spots on the sink or that questionable funk under the toilet seat. They work the exact same as the yellow ones. They're just pink. And I now hate them.

My hubby (God bless his little heart) recently came home and said something to the effect of:

So I guess once school starts my house won't be this clean.

I'll take one, please.

He knew when he married me that he wasn't getting Alice from The Brady Bunch. I am as much a housewife as he is Clive Owen. But for at least two months out the year, he gets a peek into a parallel universe and it makes him stupid enough to make asinine statements like the ones above. Once September gets here, he will quickly remember that he married me because I'm super smart and incredibly nerdy. And he will walk into the house and find fish sticks in the oven with me at the table, hair pulled up with chewed pencils, glasses in place, mumbling as I read some book and furiously jot down notes.

He'll go into mourning for a while. And then one glorious day, the angels will sing and he will wash the damn dishes himself. I kinda hope he wears the pink gloves.

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The original article can be found here: http://www.workitmom.com/article-4554-want_some_me_time_get_your_hubby_a_hobby

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This is in our new tent. He actually sleeps in it better then at home. Probably because in the tent he's right in the middle of us :)

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Tomorrow is going to be a huge day for me at work...that is, if I can make it to work.

I'm leading off the first "Lean Event" under the new guidelines I pushed so hard to get through. Then in the middle of the first day I'm doing a training for our executive and Steering Committee (select middle management) on our new program that I'm rolling out to keep our office people organized and learn accountability. It's one of those days I've planned for months to be executed perfectly. Some may say this is the type of day where people can shine of fail...in front of the president of the company I made sure I would shine. I've been going over the motions over and over and I have to say, I'm ready for tomorrow.

However, Nathan is now sick. Mike is still gone to Michigan and not due back until tomorrow at 4 p.m.. That's not going to cut it. I don't have anyone who can take Nathan sick. I'm a mess just thinking about having to call in and cancel all these meetings because it will be a pain in the ass to get anything back together again. Especially when the president of the company is involved. (I feel so bad for the little guy! I'm thinking it's either a chest cold or strep or both. I got the fever down but he's still unable to really lie down anywhere for a long time or he starts coughing and aggrivating the sore throat again.)

I know family comes first. I know what I will HAVE to do but it's not going to be good for my job. Why is Mike always gone when something big I'm supposed to do comes up? Not to mention he hasn't called home in 4 days. This concerns me. I asked him to call when he got to their destination (he's kayaking 7 miles out into Lake Michigan to an island for camping) and when he got back onto land. Now, I can't get too upset because he might not get signal right? (Tell that to the nightmares I've been having) He's supposed to be coming back in tonight since he's catching the early morning ferry tomorrow. I better get a call from him or I'm going to start freaking out. No more camping where he can't be reached! I know he wants his space but his family needs to be able to get a hold of him when crap happens. 

::goes and freaks out somewhere else:: 

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